This is just a bit of silliness, don't expect anything serious from this fic! Enjoy anyway if you dicide to read.
It had been a slow night and all the CSI's seemed to either be piecing together the last parts of their investigation or writing up case reports somewhere quiet in the lab. One lab rat in particular was seriously bored.
There was only a few hundred times Greg could spin on his swivel chair without starting to experience the 'dizziness effect'.
Tapping his pen on one of the microscopes, he let out a sigh. He was just so fed up. Due to the lack of cases, Greg had only analysed one piece of evidence all night and when he went to give Grissom the results, Grissom had already known the answer and had the guy waiting in police custody while Brass set up the interrogation room. This had seriously pissed Greg off as his knowledge and expertises hadn't been needed or even acknowledged in this instance. In a mood, Greg has already annoyed Hodges, read two old 'Sand and Surf' magazines, listened to his favourite rock songs (at a very loud volume), re-stocked the lab, annoyed Hodges some more and even tried to read a Sherlock Holmes novel he found in the break room (he only got to page three before giving up)!
Yep, for Greg Sanders, this was a very boring shift. He crossed his arms on top of the counter and lay his head down on his arms. Another heavy sigh escaped him.
As Greg was about to dose off from apathy – the idea suddenly hit him – THE ULTIMATE QUESTION! He jumped up quickly, almost making his swivel chair fall to the floor as he ran out of his lab. He just HAD to know the answer to his question.
I promise to update soon, as you will find out what Greg's ultimate question is in the next chapter.