fandomhigh | Sociology (End of Semester)

Last business, first. At the end of the day, Grissom posts all Sociology students grades. He will stay after Sociology of Deviance and hold special late office hours if any students would like to discuss their grades.

[Please, double-check this list. If I missed you, I will add you. If you want to change the grade, come IC to late office hours and we'll see what we can do.]

Criminology

whitedeathpod - A+

cameronmitchell - A+

maias_notebook - A

chasingangela - A/A-

chloe_sullivan - B+

Death and Dying

oatmanspatient - A

harried_potter - B+

chosenslayer_ - A-

psycho_barbie - A

conathon - A-

banikslaveboy - A

susan_death - A

allie_cameron - A-

marianne_d - A-

actingltcrumpet - B+

Sociology of Deviance

notstakedyet - B+

demonbelthazor - A

suzotchka - C+

other_logan - B+

Death and Dying

Grissom is there to chat with, preparing grades ~~and catching up giving out gifts from last class ASAP~~. Attendance not required, but he does have corn chips.

Sociology of Deviance

"Today, you present your finals projects. Grades will be made available after class. I also have a gift for each of you, after your presentation. Feel free to ask your fellow ~~remaining~~ students questions about their projects, if you wish.

I enjoyed having all of you in class ~~even Angel, although I don't suppose you'd ask for my dating advice anymore - My Bad~~ and I hope to see you all again next semester."

[OOC: I'm so sad! You guys were really, really awesome this semester, and I had fun playing with all of you, I truly mean that. *clings* Thank you for your participation - it meant a lot to me ~~shaddup, I'm a sap~~, and it was a great time all around. Happy Holidays!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If you want, one of my students gave me these (http://www.livejournal.com/community/fandomhigh/477983.html?thread=21844255#t21844255)," he says with a wide smirk.

"I haven't finished the chocolate covered pretzels Nick sent," she says with a slight grin. "We can save those."

"He didn't send me any snacks," Grissom says as he gives Sara a stare complete with raised eyebrows. "I wonder why that is?... hmmmmm..."

"Probably because you never write to him," she says calmly, fighting a smirk.

"And probably because I asked him to."

"I wrote him... I think. Once, maybe. And I never thought to bribe my former subordinates for candy... well, the ones not named Sara anyway."

An amused look. "If you were to ask Nick for candy, I'd wonder if the old rumors were true." She nimbly ducks a swat, crunching on some corn chips.

"And those old rumors would be...?"

"When I first came out to Vegas, Ecklie was swearing you, Greg, and 'Rick were knocking boots. Apparently that was the only way to explain the night shift solve rates." Smirkity smirk.

"Well, Warrick is a very attractive man," Grissom says with a stone-cold face, deadpan. "But Greg's not really my type."

"Nick would be more your speed," she says with an agreeable nod. "Of course, that means Catherine and I would have to entertain ourselves and for some reason, I don't picture that ending well."

He, shockingly, know better than to say he has no problem picturing it.

"It doesn't surprise me that Conrad would jump to any conclusion he saw fit. He knows his science, but he's a politician at heart. One has to wonder what the current bets running at the lab are, however..."

He saved himself from the wrath of two women, for Sara would have told Catherine about it. Never let it be said she doesn't know when to set aside grudges.

A slight shrug. "Greg's apparently rubbing his winning bet in everyone's faces. As for new ones..." she thinks for a minute. "Only one I've heard of is a bet on how long it will take me to trap you into marriage by letting myself get knocked up." She shakes her head.

Grissom just rolls his eyes. The invasion of privacy nags him on some level, but it is too distant a problem now to really upset him.

"Well, first of all, if I did knock you up, I'd immediately open a full-blown scientific inquiry, all things considered. And at least we know Warrick and Nick's money is safe in that pool. They know better than that," he says quietly.

"Does it bother you? I don't mean to put you in these positions, I could, ahhhh..."

He's not quite good enough with people to know how to properly handle this, now that he can't threaten their jobs.

He might not be able to threaten their jobs, but he could certainly threaten their peace of mind.

"People will believe what they want to believe, regardless of empirical evidence," she says with a sigh. "Though feel free to chew out anyone you hear saying such."

"You can bet on that," he says rather coldly considering the pun.

"We know the truth, though. And that's what matters. And the people we care about, we'll share it with them too."

It's kind of big for him to say something like that, but that fact is mostly washed over by the determination in his voice.

That means more to her than she could honestly say. But she is mindful of the open door and decides to save her appreciation for a more private location.

Squeezing his hand, "Greg wanted to know what you wanted for Christmas. He was thinking about trapping roaches."

"Where, his apartment?" he chuckles. "Maybe nothing that's alive if he can help it, actually. Shipping bugs back to Fandom is difficult, and Judy isn't a fan of my dead insect collections. I doubt she'd agree to play babysitter."

"He'll probably give you a bug mug. Can never have too many of those." Despite her earlier words, a hand is reaching for the chocolate.

"Oh yes, what I need is more possessions covered in depictions of bugs." He laughs. "Or maybe rollercoasters."

"What are we getting Greg, by the way? Did we do that?"

[ooc: *Is so cursing you and

trollprincess. Will give in and sign up for the zombie fic-a-thon.*]

A pause.

"Shit. I didn't think about him or the others."

[BOOYA ZOMBIES PWN YOU!]

"I didn't either. I got Catherine and Lindsey something... but I get them the same thing every year. I didn't even think. How about...

Crap."

"We have to go shopping." Said in a mournful tone.

"Well, it's quite late now. Why don't you head back to campus, get ready for bed? I'll stick around here for a little while longer in case any of my students still need to come by, no longer than a half an hour, and then we can discuss it over some dinner, okay?"

He hands her his key card, as an afterthought.

"We need to get your key reprogrammed," he mutters.

"It'd probably be a good idea." Brushing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you there."

Sociology (End of Semester)

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