TITLE: Blindsided 1/1

PAIRING: none

RATING: PG-13 for swearing

SPOILERS: none

GENRE: gen, snippet

DISCLAIMER: CSI characters are the sole property of CBS Broadcasting

Inc. and Alliance-Atlantis Comm. No copyright infringement intended.

Playing in someone elses sandbox. I promise to leave all the toys

where I found them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, well, I have written fanfiction before, but I've never posted on First time for everything, right? I claim no great skill at writing just a bizarre need to share my random internal ideas. All mistakes, typos and corpse sized plot holes are the sole responsibility of the author.

Gil hadn't meant to do it, hadn't meant to leave Nick blind and

vulnerable in the middle of a crime scene. He had intended to bring

Nick to Catherine's house. But the call had come in and for Gil work

trumped everything. An officer showed them into one of the cookie

cutter houses explaining who had found the body and answering the

obligatory CSI question as to whether anyone had touched anything.

Why he hadn't left Nick in the car he'd never be able explain, but

finally as they neared the actual crime scene, Gil realized that he

couldn't lead the younger man around by the arm and do the necessary

evidence processing.

"Nick, go back to the car.'" That's what he had said, just go back to

the car. It was half an hour into his collection of evidence that

Brass had come up behind him and in a voice that was far from friendly

said, "Meet me out front in ten minutes and I don't give a shit if

you're done here or not."

He had turned to tell the cop that it was his job to "give a shit"

about the evidence, but the man's quickly receding back wasn't

interested. The truth was that he was pretty much done with what he

needed to do at the scene. Warrick was on his was to take care of the

rest of the house and Gil needed to get back for the autopsy. So with

a little trepidation he headed outside to see what the hell was wrong

with Detective Brass.

The man in question was pacing in the house's front yard and obviously

had been doing a lot of it by the look of the trampled grass.

"What's up Jim?"

"I'll tell you what's up Grissom. I've always defended you to people

who thought they knew you. People who said you were a machine, a

robot, all science and no feelings. I told them they didn't know what

the hell they were talking about. Told them different people handle

things different ways. And I told them your way put scum behind bars,

gave families and victims something to hold on to. Hell I told them

at least with Gil Grissom I always knew what I was getting - the

truth. So yeah I defended you, told em all to mind their own busines

and do their jobs cause that's what you were doing." Brass was

talking, almost shouting, in one constant stream. If Grissom had had

anything to say he wasn't going to get the chance. "I told them that

when it really came down to it you were as much a cop as any of us.

You might be a scientist, but you were one of us. Well I was wrong

cause a cop would never do to one of their own what you did to Nick

tonight and I'm sick about it."

"Did to Nick? What are you talking about Jim? I'm sorry he had to

wait so long. I'll drop him by Catherine's on the way back to the

lab. I think Doc Robbins can wait."

"You think?" Brass's voice dripped with contempt.

"Listen Jim why don't you just tell me what's bothering so we can get

on with our jobs."

"Dammit Grissom, he might be blind, but he's still a CSI. What gets

drilled into every CSI's head above all else...Don't contaminate the

crime scene. Jesus, you left him standing there, the smell of death

everywhere, with what? Just an order to go back to the car." He could

see from the way Gil's head was leaning to the right and his mouth was

pulled tight that the man was catching on to what had happened, but he

wanted the satisfaction of rubbing it in. "That's what he tells me when I find him, like it's the most reasonable thing in the world. I don't understand it, but I'd swear these people would follow you off a cliff. So you leave him there to fend for himself and he figures that's what he's gotta do . One problem, though. He can't see!" Brass shouted the last loud enough to get the attention of a beat cop or two. He quickly reined in his anger and voice ever so slightly before continuing. "So the kid just stood there, no idea where the door was other than somewhere behind him. No gloves on so he couldn't feel around. He wasn't going to contaminate the scene. And there was no one to help him! And so he just stood there."

"How long?" There wasn't enough air in Grissom's lungs for anything more.

"I don't know, fifteen minutes at least." The stricken look on the

CSI's face had instantly taken the air out of Brass's indignation.

Grissom cared just as much as anyone, he just couldn't help being

Grissom. "Look, I know you didn't mean it and other than being

embarrassed and I think a little overwhelmed by this whole thing with

his eyes, Nick's fine. I was the one who was mad. Listen, I'm sorry I

came down on you so hard, I just... I just, well I'm taking Nick with

me to the station. He doesn't need Catherine to babysit him. He needs

a friend and right now that's gonna be me." He turned to go to the

car, but realized he had to get something else off his chest and now

was the time. "Gil you're the head of CSI now, but I still care about

those people and I'm gonna make sure you take care of them."

Grissom was left with so much to think about that it made his head

hurt. Fifteen minutes. He thought back to his hearing loss; to the periods where he could hear nothing at all. He above most others knew what Nick was going through and he had been the least understanding.

He looked into the car where Brass had just climbed into the

driver's seat. The detective said something to his passenger and for

the first time since the accident that had left him temporarily blind,

Nick smiled. He was jealous. Grissom had made Nick scared and

embarrassed. Brass had comforted him, made him smile. Brass could be

a friend and it was high time Gil learned that particular skill.

Years later he would tell Nick that he was glad the accident had

happened. It taught him a lesson. Yes science mattered, evidence

mattered, but most of all people mattered.

The End

Okay, well, I have written fanfiction before, but I've never posted on First time for