Updated by popular demand. I'd better get some damned good reviews for this, people! You'd better love me!
"This is horrifying." Henry exclaimed, storming over to the circle of gathering men. Greg remained bolted to his perch under the table, but had stuck his head out far enough that he could be part of the conversation.
"Can't you just give us the day off?" Nick asked Grissom. He shook his head.
"And leave two CSIs to work five cases? Ecklie'd have my ass."
"Then send us on the cases!" Warrick exclaimed.
"That won't do anything for us!" Archie yelled.
"Y'know, I've always wanted to be on the field." Hodges said, thoughtfully. Nick punched the stumpy man in the arm. The men erupted in hushed argument. Only Greg noticed the six women gather in their own circle and begin to talk, faces growing redder with each word. His stomach fell.
"Guys." He said, standing. The men ignored him, while the women looked their way in unison. "Guys…" Greg's voice had become urgent, yet nobody glanced. They were walking towards them now. "The crow flies at midnight!" It was a final attempt of getting attention before they came any closer.
Seeing the zilch hope their was of making himself known, Greg saw no other option but to retreat, leaving his fellow man behind.
As he circled the corner, the young man heard the distinct yelps of realization, the bitter chat of anger and The Time of the Month One Must Never Utter For Fear of Being Slapped.
He set himself down onto a swivel chair and set to work on a random pile of evidence.
--
"We were born for this…" Greg sang along to the rapid music of the Paramore song playing in his head, giving him a work soundtrack.
Hours after the horrid introduction of terror, Greg's mind had drifted off to various subjects that to the average soul would be mind numbing and meaningless, but to his special Greg-mind were fascinating. And so he was content to dangling his feet on the table top, bopping to the music and drifting to wonders of whales and chinchillas.
His peace had been interrupted by a shrill scream.
"GREG!"
The young man tensed, clenching his teeth together for fear he would let a lighthearted comment escape and land him on death row.
Enter Catherine, heels clacking against the linoleum tiles.
Dear lord.
She wasn't alone.
Following her was Ronnie and Sara. And Mandy and Wendy.
God forbid, add Sofia and…
"Shit…" Greg mumbled, scrambling out of his comfortable position and making for the quickest exit.
Which was the door the ladies chose as well.
"Sit down, Sanders!" Sara hissed, kicking--yes, kicking--the poor boy back onto his chair, forcing him into a cyclone across the room, only stopped by the thick glass of the opposite wall.
He couldn't help but whimper as they stalked towards him.
"C-can I help you?" He stuttered, Converse sneakers tapping nervously. Catherine snorted.
"Like hell! Where's Warrick?"
"And Grissom." Sara added, tilting her hip.
"And Henry." Mandy crossed her arms.
"Hodges!" Mandy growled.
"Nick." Sofia's single word was soft and poisonous. She was the most feared of the six. She had a license to kill.
"I d-d-d-d-d-d-d--" Greg chattered, unable to answer. Catherine dug her heel into his shoe, the very same as before. Greg yelped.
"Spit it out, Spike!" She yelled.
"I don't know!" He screamed, dogging a grabbing hand in hast to escape the tightly formed circle around him.
Luck had no intentions of turning the tables to his favor, as Sara smacked him smartly on the head while Sofia stuck out her foot. He toppled to the ground, face-down, with a pained grunt.
Hands clawed him to his feet before the daze could fade, shoving him against the wall. Now 'twas Sara in his face, so close her nose nudged his.
"Listen, squirt," I could take offense to that, Greg thought simultaneously, "We know their around here somewhere. They're hiding like a bunch of fat-ass babies and we know you know where the hell they freaking are!" Every other word was spat onto him, making the spiked young man flinch and shake his head.
"I haven't seen them in hours! I swear on my hamster's grave!" He told her, wriggling out of her grasp and landing outside of the circle. For all of two seconds. Before they turned around and made another one.
"Liar!" Ronnie yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at him. The woman gave their agreements.
"Why you wanna see them at all?" Greg asked. Catherine's eyes bugged.
"They're avoiding us! We wanna give them a piece of our minds!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the hair. From the corner of his eye, Greg saw his salvation scurry past the window.
"There's Henry! I'd recognize those Dumbos anywhere!" He yelled, wildly gesturing for the hallway the tech had just entered. Without another glance the women of the nightshift dashed away, out the door.
With a sigh, Greg slid down the wall, onto his ass. He glanced up into the unseen heavens.
He's not a merciful God, is he?
A\N-Would I dare keep this going a final chapter? What, dear readers, do you think I should do?