Author's Note: Yay! I finally got this chapter done! I'm sorry guys for the lack of updating lately. I really hate being a high school senior right now--It sucks being so busy! Gar! Anyways, back to the story thingy. Just to warn you, I do pick on Linds. No worries though, she gets treated a lot better soon enough, and realizes her mistakes. I had to make Linds a foil for my character Max somehow! So, I based her on some bigoted girl that goes to my school. That way, she'd really get on my Character's nerves, and everybody elses! Greg gets picked on a little too, but that's only because he's Greg. lol. Also, the first part of the Chapter--just the first paragraph--is in the POV of the Killer, but I had a good feeling you knew that already. You readers are smart cookies, I think, so you'll be able to figure this one out. But in future chapters there will be some nice twists and turns!
Rated T for language, gruesomeness, a lovely bit of sandle and grillows, and recycled liquid bat poop---think greg and you're good, people!
Disclaimer: I'll never own CSI, but if I did, boy, would the show be awesome, because all the episodes would be written by you guys! Fanfics are the best!
Chapter 4: Research and Outcomes
I mentioned to him my work the other day. He told me that it was exceptional that I should be interested in such things. What a brilliant man, to praise me! I will take him to see my masterpiece. But not yet, it is not finished, but when he comes the finale shall be prepared. I shall research about him; to know him is to love him, but to love him is to mold and use him. What beauty shall be unleashed when I open the doors to his life? What secrets wait to be unearthed from the crevices of his mind?
Two women sat in the elegant warmth of a nineteenth-century tea-room and its crackling fireplace. The dimly lit room smelled of a time long past and its walls were adorned with Victorian paintings. Both sitting on an elegant sofa, they chatted animatedly whilst sipping tea from antique china.
"This tea is excellent, Madame; pray, what kind is it?" the younger of the two asked.
"Earl Grey," the hostess replied, " I'm surprised you're quite fond of it; Most Americans find it absolutely dreadful."
The younger one smiled, " If you think that is unusual, you'll find my tastes in cuisine absolutely bizarre."
" I find nothing bizarre anymore; In my old line of profession, bizarre was the norm. Although, I must say, you are definitely one of the most interesting people I've ever met."
" 'One?' What about the others?"
"Well," A hint of blush came to the older woman's cheeks, " There was only one other..."
"Doctor Gilbert Grissom, a renowned entomologist."
"Really?" the young woman's face was shadowed with a feline mischief, "Do tell."
Lindsay Willows sat in the rather uncomfortable chair in her new supervisor's office. She felt as if she were in some kinky librarian's office; classic literature and writings of Janet Fitch, Ken Kesey, Tom Wolfe, Jim Morrison and other eclectic artists surrounded the walls of Max Gundersohn's office. Almost none of which Lindsay knew; the only book she recognized in this literary prison was Jewel's A Night Without Armor -----she had read it for a high school book report. Posters of the Ramones, Pretenders, The Eagles, The Clash, and The Kinks -----whoever the hell they were, maybe her mom knew, she'd ask later-----hung all over where there wasn't a shelf filled with books.
Humming some awkward tune from the radio, she was filled with an adolescent confidence that should've dissipated in college. She wore a skin-tight red shirt and even tighter pants with heels, that if caught on any other young woman, would not even be considered a person of such an esteemed career. She pulled it off quite well though, having her mother's voluptuous body.
She played with a ring on her pinky finger, and chewed gum obnoxiously; as far as she knew, Gundersohn was off blabbing with Nick or something. She didn't care about being here; this Max was just another guy she could flirt with to get another raise. Maybe he was cute...oooh...she'd have fun with that; Lindsay loved flirting with Geraldo, maybe she could tease them both, cause a little trouble.
"Could you please stop that damned chewing?"
Lindsay jumped from her seat at the voice, "Oh My God! What the hell was that?!"
The chair from behind Gundersohn's desk spinned around, facing her. Max sat in the luxuriously padded, black Dr. Evil Chair -----you know, the one in Austin Powers that was shaped like a hollowed out egg?----- with a really big book, and I mean a really big book, in her hands, " 'That' would be me, Ms. Willows."
"You shouldn't be in the new guy's chair or even in his office; You'll probably get fired."
"I am 'the new guy', Willows," said Max, dressed in a vintage Rolling Stones T-Shirt and faded jeans, her hair pinned up in the usual bun, "And I called you into my office to discuss something with you."
Lindsay took a deep breath; she was going to be in deep trouble. How was she supposed to know the short-girl was the new boss? New bosses were hardly ever friendly or didn't seem that way, "Sorry, about that. I..um...just thought you were another Level One CSI like me; I mean, you're really young, and well I just couldn't see you as supervisor that day."
"That's quite all right," she grinned, "Now, I am here to talk to you about the other day when we were at the crime scene together."
"Do I get a raise?"
"No, this about some evidence you collected."
Lindsay jumped from her seat excitedly, her face beamed with recognition," Did I break the case?!"
"Well, what is it then?!" she snapped.
Max's smile was reminiscent of Hannibal Lecter's, her voice was cool and creepily calm, "If you'd let me finish, I'll tell you." she paused for a moment waiting for Lindsay to interject, then continued, " Three of your prints were found on a soda bottle you sent to Hodges. Those prints place you at the murder; you wanna explain that to me?"
Lindsay's eyes welled up with tears, her voice a faint and shaky whisper, " I didn't do it...I...I..."
"Then why are your prints there? Surely, you can tell me."
"I ...I didn't wear my gloves..." she started to choke up. Oh God, she was gonna be fired and her mother would be so disappointed, Oh God.
"Now is not the time to cry and win sympathy points, Willows. You made a mistake; it happens. What I don't understand is why you didn't wear your gloves; all the evidence that you've collected has been compromised. Which is a complete waste now; we really could've used it against the killer," her voice softened, "Would you mind telling me why you didn't wear your gloves?"
Lindsay wiped her eyes and sniffed, "You're gonna find this really stupid..."
Max laughed, "As long as it's plausible, I don't mind stupid excuses. Stupid happens everyday, even the smart ones get stupid sometimes. You're not stupid, just your excuse."
" I forgot to use them, " she sighed, "I was so preoccupied, thinking about..."
"Geraldo?" her supervisor finished, "Why is it the men that always ruin it for us? Willows, you're Level One CSI, no longer a sorority girl; I expect more from you. Don't do this again."
"Okay." Lindsay turned to go.
"I'm not done speaking with you." she warned, "As punishment for your absentmindedness, I'm taking you off the field and putting you in paper work for three weeks. Also, for your snide comment earlier, I'm adding on an extra week of paper work."
"Aww, come on...!"
"Would you like unpaid suspension as well?"
"Then go. Grave's got a meeting about the case in a fifteen minutes and I need to prepare for it. It'd best if you went off and did a little paperwork 'till then."
His outmost attention was on that yellow tulip. It lay in a turquoise vase he had bought her earlier that week. He could still remember the look on her face when he presented it to her; her robin's egg eyes brightened and a soft sigh could be heard from her lips. Like the flower, her beauty had never seemed to diminish in the over thirty years that he had known her, the last seven of which they had been married.
While he was preoccupied, Catherine stood outside her office door, talking with her daughter Lindsay, or more like scolding her. After a few minutes of bickering, Lindsay left, leaving Catherine to enter her office grumbling.
"God! I can't believe Lindsay; a 3.5 GPA in college and you'd think she'd at least act like she had one at work," she waited for a response form her husband, but silence was all she received.
Sitting down at her desk, she turned to him, "Gil, are you even listening to me? Gil?!"
He looked up from his tulip gazing, "What?"
She shook her head in dismay, " Linds is complaining about Gundersohn, because she gave her four weeks of paperwork for mishandling evidence. I honestly don't know what to do with that girl!"
She gaped at him, "Excuse me? Just what the hell are talking about, Gil?"
"I don't like her, Cath; she's got this creepiness factor about her."
"She creeps you out? Oh dear God, how could that woman creep you out?!! She's nice, friendly and as far as I can tell a more than competent co-supervisor and CSI."
"Yeah, but," he counteracted, " She's overly nice, like Doris Day, and Doris Day creeps me out."
"She's nothing like Doris Day!" Catherine muffled a disgruntled moan through her hands.
Gil rolled his eyes at her, "Well, did Lindsay tell you she was creepy?"
"Only when she asked her things about the crime scene or evidence. Said that Gundersohn reminder her of Anthony Hopkins or something. But, that's besides the point. Supervisors need to instill superiority into their employees, even if it is a little weird. Personally, I'd like to see her do the Tony Hopkins imitation."
Gil sat silently for a moment, contemplating his next move. He smiled at her, " Max Gundersohn is too young and too inexperienced to keep her job here."
"Like hell she is!"
"Cath, " he tried to reason, "She's only been a CSI for approximately five years and you hired her as co-supervisor to Nick!"
"Fourteen, Gil, she's been a CSI for fourteen years, since she was sixteen."
"How is that possible? Did you check her background? Confirm that all her past employments were valid and...?!"
"YES, Gil" she sighed, " I did everything I was supposed to do. She is more than qualified to work here. I also pulled a helluva lot of strings to get her to work here! New York and Miami were practically on the edge of kidnapping her, she is that important to the world of forensics. Forensics Monthly has an article on her every month. Did you know that?"
He thought hard on this one, trying to come up with a decent excuse to give her, "...no...I've been too busy teaching at the university, remember?"
She smiled with sweet victory, "Right, sure you were, Gil. Got anymore opinions about my newbie?"
"Umm...She's too strict and she's a threat to the male workers here."
Catherine laughed, "I'll start worrying about her disciplinary actions when she gets the whip out, okay? And unless she forms some kind of harem involving more than just the male lab techs, then I'll set her straight. Is that good enough for you, Mr. Worrypants?"
"No, it's not! I saw Nick stare at her chest the other day, how's that for you, Catherine? Did I mention Greg told me that she showed him her 'tattoo'?"
"It's a tattoo not her panties. I've seen it, it's on her back. As for Nicky, I'm pretty sure he's gay."
"Gay? Nicky gay? My dear, your gaydar is off by hundreds of miles. Nick is not gay, merely going through a decade-long drypatch."
"Gil, the man solely chooses his own wardrobe from what he watches on 'What Not To Wear' with those Clinton and Stacy people. Did I mention he plucks his own eyebrows AND has his chest waxed? I wouldn't be surprised in the least if he got facials!"
He shook his head, "All I'm saying, honey, is that I don't like that Gundersohn girl. I have this gut feeling about her."
"Well, if you just took some Metamucil, I'm sure any negative 'gut feelings' towards her will go away, " she smirked.
His cell went off, picking it up, he replied, "Dr. Grissom. Audrey? Hi! No, I'm not busy. I'll come right over. See you there."
Catherine's eyebrow raised, " 'Audrey'?"
"A student of mine."
"That's funny; you've never called any of your students by their first names." she said suspiciously.
"That's because she's...special. Listen, I gotta go sweetie, 'kay?" he kissed her softly on the lips and headed out the door.
Closing her eyes tightly, she exhaled deeply, Oh shit, I hope this isn't what I think this is.
Sara, Greg, Geraldo Rivera-Ortega ---a CSI Level One that looked as if he could be Ricky Martin's little brother, so yes, he was hot---, and Lindsay all sat together at the meeting room table.
"What is taking them so long?" whined Lindsay, her manicured red nails drummed loudly against the table top.
"Linds, " Greg said, " It's not even been five minutes. Besides, aren't you supposed to be doing paperwork?"
"Not during a meeting I don't have to," she smirked.
Sara leaned back towards the doorway, intent on listening, "Guys, shush! I think I hear Max." Silence covered the room as all four CSIs leaned back in their chairs, trying to discern the conversation Max was having down along the hallway;
"No, sweetie, that's not a good idea. Well, because you've had enough already. I know it's addicting, but you need to know there is a limit. You can distribute and sell the rest, okay? Talk to you later, bye Duke."
" I knew it!" Greg proclaimed, "Duke's a Colombian druglord dragqueen!"
The others stared in perplexity at their friend, "I worry about you, Greg. Really, I do, " his girlfriend frowned.
"I'm serious, Sar, " he replied, " How else does it explain the funny accent and phonesex in some foreign language?"
Sara's brow furrowed deep in frustration, "Greg, how do you know it's phone sex?"
"Easy, she giggles a lot on the phone, And I hear high-pitched noises on the other end of it"
Geraldo snickered at this, "Dude, you need to stop drinking so much coffee; the caffiene's going to your head."
"Well, " said Lindsay, "I think she's a lesbian."
Sara shot her a disconcerting glance, "Why is it that whenever you don't like someone, you declare them gay or a lesbian? That's very mean and depreciating of you."
"I'm not being mean, " she protested, "Think of it this way; if she is gay, she and Stokes can hang out together."
"Lindsay! I can't believe you...God...I'm so glad Max took you off the field. The less you offend people, the better," the other woman retorted.
The young woman's face began to turn crimson, but Geraldo intervened;
"You know what's so great about you staying in the crimelab, babe?'
Lindsay's tiny fists unfurled, "What's that, Geraldo?"
"You and me get to be to together more, " he whispered in her ear, causing her to lessen her crimson visage to a blushing pink.
"Gee, I never thought of that, " she giggled, sliding her thin arm about his waist as they slid closer together.
Sara leaned towards Greg and whispered nonchalantly in his ear, "I'm so glad were not that obvious about our relationship."
"I dunno, Sara," he grinned roguishly, "This whole whispering thing is turning me on." Placing his hand on her thigh, he purred gently into her ear.
Sara turned pink and slapped his offending hand lightly, "Stop that, Nick's coming, and you know how emotional he gets when he sees couple-like behavior!"
" 'Couple-like behavior?' " his voice overly dreamy, "Does that mean no snuggling, no holding hands nor kissing? No making sweet, sweet love in your office until the break of dawn...Gasp! My heart doth breaketh, sweetums!"
Her cheeks were now the color of a maraschino cherry as he started to nibble on her ear. Lindsay and Geraldo glanced towards them, their eyes in horror.
"Old people are so gross!" Lindsay shrilled.
"Tell me about it. I hope I die before I get old," he complied.
"Ah, youth; immaturity and lack of wisdom at its best, " Nick walked in grumbling with a large mug of coffee in his hands. Dressed in worn out blue jeans and an olive hooded sweatshirt, he blew off the steam rising from his mug gently in one hand, and ran the other through his salt and pepper hair.Looking up from his cup of coffee to the sight of a blushing Sara and a cavalier Greg, he frowned, "You know Greggo, I was going to tell you how awesome your coffee was today, but seeing you like this has caused me to want to regurgitate my last meal.
The forementioned cavalier stopped dead still, and looked up to his friend with doe-like eyes, "Huh? I didn't make coffee today, man. "
Nick's eyes widened in curiousity, "You, Gregor Sanders, did not make this most scrumptious cup of caffiene? Wow. That's kinda scary."
"No, he didn't, but I did." a familiar voice rang into the room. Max came in with a large pile of papers in one arm and coffee thermos in another. She waved and smiled at Greg and Sara, nodded at Geraldo and Lindsay. Turning to Nick, she said, "Are you disapointed by my barista like skills?"
"No, actually, I'm impressed. What kind is it?" he asked.
"Ethiopian Harrar; I don't like the idea of sipping on recycled Hawaiian bat poop. I like my coffee with some body to it, withouth ripping my stomach to pieces."
Greg frowned at this, "Are you saying you don't like my coffee?"
She put the large pile of papers on the table, and took a satisfactory gulp out of her thermos, "To put it quite simply; Yes. But that doesn't mean I don't like you, I like you very much, Sanders. Does that make you feel better?"
He crossed his arms, "Kinda." he looked to Sara, "Honey, do you like my coffee?"
Sara's eyes darted across the room uneasily, "Ummm...I'm gonna hafta plead the fifth on this one."
"C'mon! Grissom always liked my coffee!"
Nick smirked, "Greg, Grissom doesn't work here now, so we don't have to pretend to like your coffee anymore, okay?"
Greg simpered,"You guys suck."
"Sanders," asked Max, "Why are you here during a meeting?"
"I'm on the case now, my silly Scottish friend; Nick and I finished the B and E yesterday."
She looked flustered, " Again, I simply don't understand how they get things done so fast here in Vegas. It's puzzling, really," Max looked around the room briefly, " Where's Catherine?"
Nick perked up, "Oh yeah, I was supposed to tell you that Catherine's still on hold with your guys back in Britain on sending the evidence and reports from your old case back there. Also, your old boss told you not to divulge anything from the old case yet; it's against protocol."
"Did Catherine say when the stuff would come in the mail?"
"A couple days."
She sighed, "Dammit...Oh well, we'll have the meeting some other time then. Sara, are you still coming with me to see the identified victim's parents?"
"No, I've got some evidence still to process from the crimescene. Greg and Nick'll be there with you though. Sorry, Max."
"That's quite alright," Max nodded, then turned to address Lindsay, "Willows?"
"Yeah?" the young woman looked up dreamy-like from Geraldo.
"Do you see that pile of papers on the other end of the table?"
"That's for you to fill out."
Lindsay whimpered under her breath, " I hate you...Maximus Bitchimus!"
"What was that, Willows?"
"It better be nothing," Max looked at Nick, "Are we ready to head over to the crimescene, then?"
"I'm ready when you are," He replied, "Greg?"
Greg was no longer in his seat but by the coffee percalator, filling his own cup up with Gundersohn's brew, "Man, this shit better be good or I'm gonna be so pissed off..."
So what do ya think? Isn't that Audrey girl a little suspicious sounding? Ooohhh! The drama! Please read and review!