Fight or Flight

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: CSI is not mine.

Rating: T

Summary: Grissom life gets mixed up by a murder suspect and he's forced to make several life changing decisions. GSR

As he approached the house, a middle aged man sat on the front porch being guarded by officers. He wore expensive looking clothes that were covered in blood. The man stared back at Grissom and smirked. Intrigued, Grissom just pursed his lips and continued up the steps.

"Even if you can prove I did it, I'm not going to jail and your life will be miserable from that point on."

Grissom stopped and turned to the man. "If you did it, I will prove it and you will go to jail. If your innocent, I will prove it." He turned to enter the house.

He was the only one available at this short of notice. Everyone else was busy and the scene was out of the way for any of them. When he walked through the house, he noticed all of the expensive decor. Paintings that appeared to be originals hung on every wall, and several pieces of the furniture were antiques.

"Ok, the vic's name is Jane Mason, 30years old, husband is Rick Mason, he's on the porch. The 911 was called in by a neighbor, apparently not the cops first visit. Every month officers are called out by the neighbors. Domestic disturbance every time, but she never pressed charges. I guess she was too scared."

"And this time he took it to the next level."

The woman's body was beaten severely. Traces of blood went from room to room as she struggled to get away from her attacker. Grissom processed the inside and proceeded to process the husband. Brass brought him in and sat him in a chair as Grissom took samples. Rick just continued to smirk. At times he even let out a giggle or two. Finding nothing funny about any of this Grissom spoke up.

"I guess I'm not seeing the humor in this. Your wife is dead. And you're a suspect."

"She deserved it. The bitch would never listen. All she did was sit out by the pool, order dumb expensive shit online, and complain about the climate. And if you had any idea with whom you are dealing with, you might be laughing too."

"And why's that?"

Just at that very moment several men in suits entered through the front door.

"Stop what you are doing right now."

"Identify yourselves." Brass said sternly.

"I'm Captain Jake Taylor and this is Lt. Tom Holmes, we're from the U.S. Marshals office. Rick here is in witness protection until he testifies."

Grissom and Brass couldn't believe it.

"Well, I don't care. He killed his wife, I'm going to prove it, then he can testify for what ever while he's in prison."

"I'm sorry it doesn't work like that. Rick we'll get you some clean clothes then you will have to come with us for a while. The trial starts in three days and we will need to move you now."

"Just who is he testifying against." Brass was pissed off about the whole situation unfolding before them.

"That's classified. Mr. Lucarelli, we need to go."

Rick smiled and held out his bound hands. Brass never made an attempt to remove the cuffs.

"Mr. Brass, remove the cuffs please."

Brass sighed and took off the hand cuffs. The agents escorted Rick upstairs leaving Grissom and Brass to helplessly watch.

Several hours later Grissom sat in his office joined by Brass. After the night they just had they needed a well deserved drink.

"How can they just let the guy walk for killing his wife just because he's in witness protection?"

"I don't know Gil. It's all a load of crap to me too."

The quiet knock was loud enough to get their attention, and as they looked towards the door the familiar pale faced brunette stood with her gapped tooth smile.

"I heard about your case. Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. Unfortunately there is nothing we can do. It's clear that he killed her, but because he's in the program, I can't arrest him." Grissom took another drink.

"I'm heading out, night Grissom. Good night Brass." She turned and walked down the hall. The four eyes watched her walk til she was out of sight.

"Damn Gil. That woman is head over heels for you and you just sit here and watch her leave day after day. What's wrong with you?"

"Don't start with me Jim. Catherine gives me this little speech several times a month about her. I don't need one from you also."

"Well if I was in your position I would have tapped that a long time ago." Clearly the alcohol was talking for Brass now.

Grissom looked across his desk at his intoxicated friend stunned. His mouth hung agape as he stared at Brass who smile a cheesy smile at him.

"I think we've had enough. Come on I'll drive you home."

They entered the parking lot and walked towards Grissoms Denali. Unlike Brass he knew he was still lucid enough to get them home. When they were about fifty feet from the truck it exploded into a fireball. The concussion from the blast knocked them both to the ground.

The two laid there as people began rushing out of the building to see what had happened. Catherine kneeled next to them.

"Hey, are you guys ok?"

"Did my truck just blow up?"

"Yes. Luckily you weren't in it."

Brass rolled over. Grissom looked at him and nodded.

"Face it Gil, the man's valuable enough to be in witness protection, his last name is Lucarelli, and did you hear his accent?"

"Yeah. He's from back east."

"I think you just fucked with the mob."