Work Text:
Untitled CSI
by Buffy
Langston settled near his host in a quiet corner, "I have to admit, Dr. Grissom, I'm surprised at your holiday decorations." He hadn't had a chance to speak with the man he was indirectly replacing, though he'd come to believe that he would like the man, from what the others said about him.
"Surprised that I decorate at all, that there are no insects involved, or that I decorate for Kwanzaa as well as Christmas?"
Langston smiled and nodded, acknowledging the challenge, "Honestly, the first and third reasons. You're quite the legend around the lab, you know. But your holiday spirit is hardly a part of that legend."
Grissom gave him a look that several lab techs had described: his head tilted, one eyebrow raised, a slight question in his expression, "But if I decorate for Christmas, then surely it wouldn't be as surprising that I also decorate for Kwanzaa, to celebrate my partner's heritage."
"I have to agree with something Jim said about you. There'd been some uniforms mouthing off in my first days, I asked Jim to get the facts about you. He said that if he had to state your religion and sexual orientation, he would say 'scientific.' You experiment until you have an answer, and then the answer might as well go into a textbook, you have no feelings of shame or guilt about it. Now, I haven't worked with Warrick, since he stayed on swing shift, but the others talk about him a great deal, and obviously we've met in passing at the lab. Neither of you strike me as the Kwanzaa type."
"What do you mean?" Langston hadn't noticed Warrick approaching until he spoke.
Langston sat back as Warrick moved to lean comfortably against his lover. Despite all the differences in age, race, and so many other surface classifications, they looked comfortable together. "Well, because Kwanzaa doesn't have the strong traditional roots that Christmas does. Not all African-Americans embrace a holiday that was created so recently."
Warrick grinned, "You're right. My Grams didn't hold with it, thought it was foolishness. I didn't really care either way, Gil's the one that got me into celebrating it."
By now Nick and Catherine had also wandered over. "Ok, explain to the white boy from Texas who barely knows what Kwanzaa is, why Gil celebrates Kwanzaa?"
Gil stroked a beard that he'd shaved off just after halloween, when a small boy in the grocery store had asked him why Santa was in Las Vegas in November. "The candles correspond to the seven days, like Hanukkah. Each day is a celebration of a different principle. Unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity, and faith."
Langston could see what Greg had meant about Grissom, this was a man born to pass knowledge on to others. Be he a CSI, a teacher, or a traveling consultant, he'd still be doing what he was meant to do. "A friend of mine in California invited me to celebrate with him and his family, and taught me about it. I've found that those same principles are the foundation of good police work. We work to maintain the unity of the community, but we must be able to define and speak for ourselves to know our place in that unity. We must work together with the officers, judges, prosecutors, and witnesses to create justice. The purpose of the laws we enforce is to protect the businesses and profits thereof. We do it to build the community to fulfill its greatest potential, and we sometimes must stretch our creativity to find the evidence to make a case. And despite the darkness and pettiness we see day in and day out in our jobs, we must have faith that there is something worth protecting in our community."
Warrick held up his cup, "Amen, Gil, amen."
end ficlet