Brian's apartment

[briguy4588]

Brian wearily checked his watch as he entered his house.
Yep, two in the morning, as usual. He kicked off his shoes, removed his tie, and took out his belt before falling face-first into his pillow.

His first case in New York was very odd -- and he thought Los Angeles was weird! At least it ended well. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of all the unpacked boxes littering his apartment.

"Tomorrow," he thought. He'll always do it tomorrow.

[briguy4588]

The taxi pulled up, and Brian stepped out. It was a bright day in New York, and Brian squinted, despite his dark sunglasses. He hadn't been outside in days, and the sunlight stung. He slowly walked to his door, and was greeted by a pile of old newspapers. He sighed, looked around, and tossed them onto his neighbor's front step. After fumbling with his keys, he went inside, and looked around.
There were some whithering plants, and he still had some boxes lying around. The toast he had made for breakfast earlier that week was now moldy, and the place in his living room where he fought off the masked men was still in disarray. Brian rolled his eyes. He immediately went to his computer and turned it on. A smile crept onto his face as the familiar Windows chimes played out, but it quickly turned to a frown as the computer reported that he had 134 unread emails.
Instead of reading them, he put on some heavy metal, and began cleaning up his apartment.
The sun was setting by the time he had finished. He had even unpacked the last of his boxes. It was finally starting to feel like home. But...

Brian smacked his head. He never got cable, and he didn't have time to sit and wait for the cable guy this week. The new season of his favorite show was going to be on in a few days. Hopefully someone from work would invite him over to watch it.


Ah, back to his ordinary chaos. He changed out to his pajamas and climbed into bed. He fell asleep staring out the window at the stars. Tomorrow was going to be a good day...

[briguy4588]

Like it did every morning, Brian's alarm clock began its banshee wail at seven. Unlike he did every morning, Brian rolled over, and promptly smashed the clock. He rolled over and went back to sleep. He hadn't had a good dream in a long time, and he didn't want the feeling to go away. She was so beautiful...


"God bless New York," he mumbled, falling asleep to hang on to his dream.

[briguy4588]

Brian was just filling out evidence reports from home when he head mail being slid under the door. It had been about a week since Luke's resignation, so they were operating under the interim supervision of one of the homicide detectives.

Brian rubbed his eyes and pried himself away from the computer screen. He walked over and picked up the envelope. He noticed right away it had the Crime Lab's seal on it. Curious, he opened it up, and unfolded the letter within.

It read:

"Mr. Shefkowitz,
In light of recent events around the crime lab, your status has been promoted to CSI - II, effective immediately. However, as a disciplinary action for the way in which you had acted outside the Standard Operation Procedures, you will not receive the pay raise for two months.
Also, you are eligible to become the new supervisor of the Crime Lab. Whether or not you want the position, you must fill out the form attatched to this letter and mail it back to city hall, human resources.
Congratulations, and keep up the good work.

Sincerely,
Captain Hazeman
"


Brian sat down and stared at it. A promotion, a punishment, and candidacy for supervisor... all in one letter. He looked at the form that was stapled to the letter. They wanted an update on his attributes, skills, and experience. Sighing, he slowly filled it out, and put it back in the envelope to mail back on his way to work in the morning.

Brian looked out the window. Winter was here.
"This is when bodies start getting cold," he muttered darkly.

[briguy4588]

Brian didn't plan on this being a bad evening. In fact, he had been having a great day off up until now. He kept the phone pressed against his ear, despite his desire to slam it violently to the floor and stomp on it until it didn't exist. The voice on the other end was younger, more uncertain, but just about as angry as Brian was.

"Listen, Brian," the voice whined, "We are going to the captain with this, and there is nothing you can do about it. You have no right to get angry with us! You're just protecting her because she was your hand-picked replacement!"
"Of course I'm angry," Brian snapped back on the phone. "I picked her nearly half a year ago when I left Los Angeles because she was brilliant and hard-working. Now you're telling me you want her fired just because your best buddy doesn't get along with her. Well, I got news for you: Your best buddy is an immature dick."
"Brian, that's not it! She slows everything down and treats everyone as if they were inferior to her!"
"Chris, why don't you all grow up and get over your personality quirks? You know damn well that she's working as hard as she possibly can over there. And your accusations --"
"No, Brian! She wants us all to bow down to her and treat her like the Queen of the Crime Lab!"
"Damnit, Chris, that's total bull and you know it!"
"Face it Brian, she's getting kicked out, whether you like it or not."
"F*** you, Chris."

Brian hung up, surprised he was able to do it nonviolently. Things were not going well back in the Crime Lab in Los Angeles. Apparently nobody liked his replacement. Brian knew she was working hard and working WELL... the other CSI's just feel intimidated and threatened. And now they're going to team up and make enough false accusations against her to get her kicked out of the lab, and Brian couldn't do anything about it. He requested the transfer because he was having personal problems with the same people.

But his replacement was in no position to request a transfer. She had only been there for half a year, whereas the other CSIs had been doing this for five, ten years. There was nothing he could do. Furious, Brian went to sleep.

****
Four days later, Brian received a phone call. He knew the instant he picked up that phone, nothing but bad news would come out of it. And bad happened to be the understatement of the century in this case. His replacement, being fired on false accusations and having nowhere to turn in a department that was biased against her, had attempted suicide. She was currently recovering at the hospital in Los Angeles. He spoke to her for several hours, but before she hung up, she left him with some parting words that got him thinking...

"Don't be a CSI, Brian. All that job does is hurt us."
"I know what you mean, Kristen," he replied. "I know exactly what you mean."

He didn't need to tell her about the most recent case... there were so many bodies, he was still doing the paperwork for it. But a light went on in Brian's head. There was a way to continue exacting justice from the grave, and not be a CSI, a way out that Brian had been thinking of for a long time.

Brian called Rhia.

"Hey Rhia, how do you feel about my being a homicide detective?" Brian asked when she picked up.