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Members 9.10 Episode re-write

Jim Brass "So you won't be leaving just yet, Gil"

Grissom sighed heavily as he rubbed a hand over his tired face "No, looks that way." There was a pause. Then, "I need to make a call, can you call the coroner for me Jim?"

"Sure. Do you want me to wait until David gets here?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go to the Denali and make my call," Gil sighed, as he closed his kit and stood up. "Looks like double and triple shifts until we have this latest sicko behind bars," he grumbled.

Grissom walked off towards the vehicle shouting over his shoulder, "I'll call the rest of the team out, too".

Brass flipped open his cell and hit speed dial #1 for the coroner's office.

Grissom started the engine to the Denali and turned on the A/C to escape the hot Vegas sun. He reached for his cell phone to call the rest of his team, and noticed he had one missed call.

His heart started to race as he realized the missed call was from Sara, so he moved to start dialing her number when suddenly his phone began to ring.

Seeing the unknown number displayed on his screen, Grissom tentatively answered with his usual businesslike tone.

"Grissom."

"Yeah, Raymond Langston. Did you manage to find anything from Haskell's details?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. A skeleton that has been buried for some years, and a male body with eleven stab wounds," Grissom replied.

A blip heard across Raymond's reply alerted Grissom to another incoming call. His heart skipped a beat as he hoped it would be Sara attempting another contact.

"I-I-I'll, uh, have to call you right back," Gil's voice choked out as he felt as if his anxiety was stifling his ability to breathe.

Without waiting for a response, he ended the call with an animated click before switching to the party line call waiting had kept connected.

"Grissom," was all he could weakly force out.

"Dr Gilbert Grissom?" a deep male English voice responded in question.

"Yes! Speaking" Grissom replied a little testily.

"Ah, at last! Hello, I'm Dr Spencer Frost, a fellow entomologist, who has been trying to reach you on behalf of the International Entomology Research and study foundation," Dr Frost replied tentatively.

"Oh? And why is that exactly, may I ask?" Grissom replied nonplussed, he was always getting these type of calls, and quite frankly he just wanted to end the call in case Sara called again.

"Dr. Grissom, I'll get right to the point. Your latest monograph on the correlation of environmental pollution to colony collapse disorder among Hymenoptera has the research community here humming...if you'll pardon the pun," the casual tone of the elder man's words easing some of Grissom's irritation.

With a short chuckle at the insider's joke, Gil responded easily, "Thanks, but it was just a ramble of documentations and observations - truly not worthy of much recognition," referring to his past scholarly postings that had earned him the elevated status he currently enjoyed in this branch of academia.

"Well, be that as it may, you probably also keep up with the latest entomological news too, so I'll get down to what I'm calling about. There are 3 new neotropical flower flies 'Diptera: Syrphidae that have been discovered in Costa Rica recently, and it's an exciting find by one of our colleagues," Dr. Frost spoke excitedly.

"Problem is we have no one of the caliber needed to research them who would be available for the next six months. They're all taken up with other research commitments. So basically we need some one sooner rather than later, to get right on with the study of them."

Spencer Frost cleared his throat slightly before adding, "Is there any possibility at all, Dr. Grissom, that you could undertake this research in the next month or so?" he asked almost breathlessly, crossing his fingers. It would be a major plus to get the famous Dr. Grissom on board this project.

Not wanting to appear rude, Grissom sighed.

"Look, Dr. Frost…could I get back to you? I'm at a crime scene right now, and I'm really unable to discuss this with you at the moment."

In truth, on any other given day, the possibility of doing field research in a rainforest area would send Gil's heart racing. Today, however, his heart was totally focused on the hope of a pretty young brunette trying once more to contact him.

"Yes, yes of course. Perhaps you'd like me to forward you the proposed prospectus for your review? Although time is of the essence, a few days would give you the opportunity to decide. We could make all the travel arrangements, visas, etc." Frost added hastily, hoping to make the proposition hard to resist.

Just then, a beep crossed the airwaves causing Gil to almost drop the device.

Acting quickly, Grissom spoke in a rush. "Okay, please do that. I'm terribly sorry, but I really must go now, I have an incoming call I need to answer. Goodbye." he said. With that, Gil found himself disconnecting the call right away without speaking further, or giving the man a chance to reply.

Flicking his thumb quickly to the button to answer the other call with a much softer, "Hey, I've been trying to get in touch with you" after he saw who the call was from on the caller display.

The sound of his voice momentarily erased the tiredness that had threatened to overwhelm her as it did her last few weeks as an active CSI.

Her hectic schedule of the last few weeks had been intensified by the rush to conclude their research in this tropical island rainforest before the approaching tropical storm erased the habitat of the endangered species of wildlife they were studying.

"Hi, this is gonna have to be quick. I'm sorry Gil, looks like we'll be out of touch for a while.. nothing to worry about" she hastened to add. "It's just we've a tropical storm heading our way and communication is the first to go," she laughed a little unsteadily.

"Robert assures me we'll be safe...as happy as clams in a clam bed," the snort of genuine amusement that accompanied this made him smile and he almost missed her next words.

"…I told him the only "Gill" I was interested in having with me in bed was you," her voice had dropped to that smoky tone that made his heart flip over. "Sorry, I'm babbling…" she said, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Sara," he breathed in response, hoping he could convey with words how he missed her as well.

Without warning, the connection started to crackle and threaten to cut out.

"Sara!.....You still there? Sara? Honey, can you hear me?" Gil called out, raising his voice anxiously.

A broken-"Gil...Yeah I'm still here, but for how much longer I don't know..."-came across the line in the usual intimate tone she shared with him alone.

"They're trying to work on the telecommunication and internet connection stuff, to secure them better before the storm hits," Sara said by way of explaining the cell line disruption.

"Honey, we think we have a complicated serial case on our hands at the lab. I'm not going to......." Gil's voice trailed off as he heard the phone connection signal a dead tone, indicating the line was now dead.

"Damn!" Gil seethed, looking at the now blank screen, before flipping it closed and throwing it angrily on to his dashboard, and sighing heavily.

He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, fighting the pressure building behind his eyes that usually triggered the onset of a migraine.

I've got to focus on breathing - slowly in, slowly out - he thought, a slight smile forming as he remembered how Sara would hold his hand while she'd coach him into the relaxing relief from the mind-numbing pain.

He recalled how she had searched the Internet for hours while he suffered during one particularly disabling episode.

His thoughts continued to ramble over that image of her triumphant smile which he'd caught as he winced painfully when the bedroom door opened admitting the brief harshness of afternoon sunlight.

If Sara were here, she'd massage my neck and work out these tension knots...she'd make it better...With a sigh, his head drooped mournfully. She'd make it all better...

A tap tap on the glass had him lifting his head "They're waiting for you."

Brass watched him as he continued to sit there for another moment, noting the strain around his eyes, obviously from the lack of sleep.

"You okay?" he asked and found Gil turning his head slowly in response.

"Yeah," he got out of the car slowly, "bit of a headache," he added as he headed out, slanting him a wry grin.

"You coming?" he asked playfully, eliciting a chuckle from his friend as he moved to join him.

Silently marveling that Grissom had actually admitted to a headache, Brass caught up with him, shaking his head slightly. Just when he thought he had this puzzle of a man all figured out, he'd always throw him a curve ball.

David had arrived, and after a brief look they had agreed to send the body back to the morgue for Al to further examine.

Grissom let a small sigh escape as he accompanied the body, leaving Nick in charge of the collecting of evidence at the scene...it was going to be a long day.

Walking into the morgue followed by Catherine, Gil could already see Al had carried out most of the autopsy as Gerald Toliver's chest cavity laid cracked wide open.

"You got a COD for us, Al?" Gil asked without greeting, eager to get on with the case at hand.

"Catherine, Gil," Al addressed them both, picking up a small broken bone to show them.

"Broken hyoid bone, classic strangulation. The ten deep penetrative stab wounds, as you suspected, were postmortem - no bleeding occurred," Al said putting the bone back down again.

"I hear your not leaving us quite yet, Gil," the doctor continued with a smirk in the entomologist's direction.

Grissom's head snapped up to pin the doctor with a cool stare.

Squaring his shoulders, he leaned over the body asking tersely, "Anything else?"

Gil's body language was screaming, "Let's just get this over with."

Al chanced a glance in Catherine's direction. Her eyes darted towards Grissom and then back to the doctor, her eyebrows raised in silent confusion as she shrugged.

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