Work Text:
Possessions
By Karen /s
It was the six used shower curtains that did it. Nick slowly lifted the neatly folded plastic and shook his head. The vic was an 88 year old male, a possible murder, but it was next to impossible to tell if anything had been taken. The small house was floor to ceiling and wall to wall withâ€"well, everything.
The house wasn't dirty, in fact, it was obvious that someone had painstakingly made sure that the contents were clean, dusted, and neatly stacked.
It was just that the contents were *everywhere*.
It had been obvious from the first that it would take more than one person to go through the home, even more so once the man's caretakerâ€"a woman who was close in age to the victim, began a running commentary on their attempts to neatly process the site.
After perhaps fifteen minutes of shrill berating over the amount of fingerprint dust they were leaving behind, Jim Brass gently but firmly escorted the little woman out the front door and into his car.
"I don't begrudge Brass that trip."
Nick looked up and grinned at Catherine. From a dozen feet away Warrick could be heard chuckling.
"We could have Greggo follow us with a dust buster..." The man's comment resulted in a blond head popping up from behind a rather large stack of magazines.
"I think I'd prefer that to sorting through theseâ€"shit!"
"Greg?!" Catherine's concern waned as she watched the young man frantically but futilely try to stop the avalanche of Time, People, and US magazines as they headed for the floor.
~*~
Ten hours later, both the swing and grave shifts were slouched around a small sea of Chinese take-out boxes. The autopsy had concluded natural causes due to a myocardial infarction some time before they had managed to finish their portion of the investigation. Case closed, their comments had moved from serious to amused.
"Why would anyone keep the pop tops from dishwashing detergent bottles?" Greg looked genuinely interested in an answer.
"It's generally believed that many of those born before or during the Great Depression tend to regard possessions in a much more permanent manner than the younger generations. We've become a wasteful society and our households reflect that with disposable mops, paper towels, recyclable containersâ€""
"Plastic roach traps." Nick's comment was met with a look of silent shock from the older man.
Warrick choked. "Remind me not to eat at your place."
"I wasn't speaking from personal experience. I was just agreeing with Gris," Nick returned with a grin.
Gil shut his mouth with a snap. Looking slightly scornful at the
thought of murdering *harmless* insects, he continued. "As I was saying, it's believed that many elderly find a sort of security in the saving of various items."
"Grissom, the man had half a dozen used shower curtains. I mean, even supposing that he might reuse them at some later date-- *six* old shower curtains?"
Greg sighed. "I still want to know why he saved the pop tops. It wasn't even the entire lid, just the little pop up part."
Sara patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Have a spring roll."
The incongruity and the way Greg silently obeyed made them all smile.
~*~
"Please tell me you'd never actually use a roach trap."
Nick pulled the damp towel from his head and looked amused. "I'm more a spray man, myself."
"Nicky..."
Tossing the towel in the general direction of the tub, Nick exited the bathroom and crossed over to the bed. Crawling lightly up to lie against his lover, he sighed.
"Grissom, not everyone is as in love with bugs as you are. I have in the past used different means to get rid of the suckers when they invaded my territory. However, I promise that any I find in your house will be considered as possibly legitimate tenants." He grinned against the older man's shoulder. "I'm not making any promises about my place, however."
"Point taken...but if I'm there, call me before you put them out of your misery? There are some truly rare species for this region that I've found purely by chance."
The photo of a fire ant came to both men's minds.
Nick sighed and gently ran his hands up to the other man's shoulders before settling his head against Gil's chest.
"Yeah, I have to admit I owe at least one of the little beggars a big thank you."
end