-1Rough Cut

DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI, nor do I own a lot of other things mentioned in here. Angel Dean belongs to Angel Dean but I DO own Camille. Eh.

Story Idea/Summary: Greg and Camille investigate a 419 in the desert. Based on case from "3 Dimensions of murder" game. It will probably remained unfinished though, so sad.

Chapter One

Wearing as lighted magnifying system that closely resembled a pair of inferred goggles, Gil Grissom carefully placed a red beetle into the collection frame. Gently he pushed a pin through its center, trying hard not to press more than necessary as not to destroy the bug in anyway. Once finished, he picked up the glass cover, locking it into its place.

Picking it up in his hands, he examined it closely. He was definitely satisfied with this specimen. It had been crawling over a rock in front of his home this morning. He had found it on his way to his vehicle knew immediately that he had to have it. Now to find its rightful place on the wall.

After a few minutes of examining his collection he found the perfect spot. Right under the desert rose tarantula and next the Red-spotted Purple butterfly that Angel had brought back for him from her trip back to Florida to be with her sister the year before. Hanging it up, he took a step back putting his hands on his hips, looking much like an art critique viewing a new painting.

Perfect.

As he turned around, pulling out his chair from the desk, there was a knock at the door causing him to pause half way. He looked up and saw standing in the door way none other than Greg Sanders. His outfit consisted of a pair of khaki colored cargo pants, a black long turtle neck underneath a black blazer. At least it was a step up from what he used to wear; Grissom cringed just at the thought of it. Wildly colored Hawaiian and disco type shirts? What an eye sore.

Sitting back in his chair, he merely looked at Greg expectantly knowing he was there to talk to him. A grin came upon his face as the young CSI entered the room.

"What up, G?"
Just the sound of that made Gil laugh, it sounded so ridiculous. But that was just Greg, and it was good hearing him talk like his old self once again. He gestured for him to come in, pulling out a piece of paper from the notebook on his desk.

"Got something for me?" Greg asked, taking the piece of paper from him.

Grissom nodded. "419, in the middle of no where."

"In the middle of nowhere?" Greg started, looking down at the paper in his hand. "Are you trying to get rid of me Grissom?" He wasn't kidding; it really was in the middle of no where. It was barely in their jurisdiction.

"Since it's a remote area you'll be taking the Mobile Analysis Unit."

"Okay…" That part was cool, this would be the first time he was able to use it on a case. And he was aching to try it. "What's the catch?" He asked, there had to be a catch, why else would he be entrusting him with that. Grissom never trusted him with expensive equipment where he could not be supervised. Use that said equipment one or two times for personal things and you're branded for life.

Grissom shrugged and sat back in his chair, folding his hands in front of his chest. He shook his head. "No catch. More like I'm trusting you with responsibilities." He studied him for a moment, seeing the shocked look on Greg's face he smiled and continued.

"You'll be taking the new girl with you."

Greg's eyes widened even more than they had with the previous shock. "Ne-new girl?" He stammered, "You mean Camille Dean?" He finally chocked out.

An amused smirk crept across Grissom's face. "No, I meant Warrick Brown." He was proud of his joke; he thought it was rather clever. "Yes, I mean Camille."

"Okay, good. Because for one Warrick's not new, and he's not a girl. Believe me; we tested his DNA to make sure of it." Greg replied with a shrug, typical Sanders remark.

As the time went on, the trail was growing colder and Grissom knew that they really didn't have much more time to waste. "It'll hopefully be her second to last efficiency, so I want to you to observe her and make sure everything is done thorough. She has done field work before, but Las Vegas is a lot different than Miami."

All Greg could really do was nod in agreement; as he listened to everything he was being told. He finally was able to speak, "Will do." He grinned. "Thanks G!"

Grissom shook his head watching the younger man run out of the room excitedly. He chuckled, turning his chair around to look back at his new masterpiece on the wall.