CSI: Las Vegas ll General Series ll I've Got a Bad Feeling About This.
Title: I've Got a Bad Feeling About This.
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas.
Characters: Gil Grissom, brief mention of Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows, extra un-named character.
Prompt: 002. Bad.
Word Count: 508.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Grissom is investigating an old crime scene when something goes horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: --
Grissom was working on an a large stack of paper work when his cell phone rang.
"Grissom." Catherine Willows was handing him a report when she noticed the strange look on Gil's face. She watched him, her brows slightly furrowed. "Alright. I'll be right there." He hung up his phone, glanced over at her, but didn't say anything.
"Well?" she said more than asked.
"New evidence has been discovered at the crime scene of the Robinson case. They need me to go out there." He paused, removing his glasses from his face. "They were vague about the details, but said they had found some insect larvae that needed me to analyzing." He folded his glasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He fixed the papers that were on his desk, tapped them on the table to make them even, and then slid them over to the side.
"Oh," Catherine replied, placing the rest of her paper work on the stack Grissom had just moved. "Guess you'd better get out there, then." She raised her brows briefly, turned around, and walked out of the office. Grissom got his gear together and headed out to the crime scene.
When he got there, something wasn't quite right. The scene looked the same. To Grissom, that was the problem. Nothing looked new or fresh. Curious, he walked over to an area of flattened grass. He squatted down, pulling out his flash light. There weren't any bug larvae, even after carefully searching through the blades, and a weird feeling overcame Grissom. He raised his flashlight to look around at the field surrounding him. Unable to shake the feeling from his skin, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed Catherine.
"Willows," she answered.
"Cath? You were the one who worked on the Robinson case, right?"
"Yeah." A pause. "Why?"
"I'm out at the scene, and everything seems to be the same. No bug larvae, nothing." Grissom really had no reason to call Catherine, but he figured hearing someone's familiar voice would calm his nerves. He didn't know why he felt so uneasy, but he did, and it was bothering him.
"Gil, you alright? You sound .. off."
"I'm fine," Grissom replied, his voice hesitant. "I've just got a bad feeling about--" and the phone went dead.
"Hello? Gil? Hello! GIL?" Catherine hung up and tried dialing his number again. It went straight to his voicemail. 'Maybe his battery ran out? No, that's unlikely. He always has a fully charged phone, all the time,' she thought to herself. She tried dialing his phone once again, but the same thing happened. Worried, she went to find Nick.
Back at the field, when Grissom was talking to Catherine on the phone, he had heard someone approach from behind. As he stood to turn around, he felt a hand curl around the front of his face, pressing a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. 'Chloroform!' he thought to himself in the few brief seconds he was conscious. He collapsed to the ground, flashlight still in hand.
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas.
Characters: Gil Grissom, brief mention of Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows, extra un-named character.
Prompt: 002. Bad.
Word Count: 508.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Grissom is investigating an old crime scene when something goes horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: --
Grissom was working on an a large stack of paper work when his cell phone rang.
"Grissom." Catherine Willows was handing him a report when she noticed the strange look on Gil's face. She watched him, her brows slightly furrowed. "Alright. I'll be right there." He hung up his phone, glanced over at her, but didn't say anything.
"Well?" she said more than asked.
"New evidence has been discovered at the crime scene of the Robinson case. They need me to go out there." He paused, removing his glasses from his face. "They were vague about the details, but said they had found some insect larvae that needed me to analyzing." He folded his glasses and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He fixed the papers that were on his desk, tapped them on the table to make them even, and then slid them over to the side.
"Oh," Catherine replied, placing the rest of her paper work on the stack Grissom had just moved. "Guess you'd better get out there, then." She raised her brows briefly, turned around, and walked out of the office. Grissom got his gear together and headed out to the crime scene.
When he got there, something wasn't quite right. The scene looked the same. To Grissom, that was the problem. Nothing looked new or fresh. Curious, he walked over to an area of flattened grass. He squatted down, pulling out his flash light. There weren't any bug larvae, even after carefully searching through the blades, and a weird feeling overcame Grissom. He raised his flashlight to look around at the field surrounding him. Unable to shake the feeling from his skin, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed Catherine.
"Willows," she answered.
"Cath? You were the one who worked on the Robinson case, right?"
"Yeah." A pause. "Why?"
"I'm out at the scene, and everything seems to be the same. No bug larvae, nothing." Grissom really had no reason to call Catherine, but he figured hearing someone's familiar voice would calm his nerves. He didn't know why he felt so uneasy, but he did, and it was bothering him.
"Gil, you alright? You sound .. off."
"I'm fine," Grissom replied, his voice hesitant. "I've just got a bad feeling about--" and the phone went dead.
"Hello? Gil? Hello! GIL?" Catherine hung up and tried dialing his number again. It went straight to his voicemail. 'Maybe his battery ran out? No, that's unlikely. He always has a fully charged phone, all the time,' she thought to herself. She tried dialing his phone once again, but the same thing happened. Worried, she went to find Nick.
Back at the field, when Grissom was talking to Catherine on the phone, he had heard someone approach from behind. As he stood to turn around, he felt a hand curl around the front of his face, pressing a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. 'Chloroform!' he thought to himself in the few brief seconds he was conscious. He collapsed to the ground, flashlight still in hand.