***This is another Warrick and Sophia story. For those of you that don't know Sophia, she is a new CSI, with a big, dark secret. More on Sophia in 'Oddessy' and 'Hurt' And as always, your reviews make my day*** Twisted Rainbows

Amber swirled in his glass, and through it the lights and shapes contorted, blending into a twisted rainbow.

Warrick set down his glass.

Another sip would kill him.

But he didn't care. As the liquid fire slid down his throat, Warrick tried to forget all of it.

Lately he didn't see the point any more.

Didn't see the reason.

Why the fuck solve all these crimes?

They always keep com'in, each one worse than the last.

Maybe is made a difference to one person, or ten, but it didn't bring the victim back from the dead.

Didn't help the helpless.

Didn't find a cure.

Warick watched the pole-dancers, the strippers, down below.

They swayed and danced, each one crying out a silent hope…love me, love me.

Warrick set the empty glass down.

There wasn't any love in Las Vegas.

There were those who had it, and those who were trying desperately to get it.

Did he have it? Did he even want it?

He felt like he was two different people.

There was CSI Brown, solving the crimes, finding the facts, trusting nothing but the evidence.

At work, his friends were his co-workers, he knew them all, inside and out.

Grissom, Catherine, Nick, Sara, Greg, Sophia. Especially Sophia.

  "Another one, down here,"

The bartender poured him some more poison.

 But did they know him?

 No.

They didn't see him after work, when he morphed into Warrick, the guy whose best friend the Strip.

 Warrick could walk into any club, any bar, any restaurant, and know at least five people there.

 He was a man of the city. He could walk through the Executive Lounge at Mandalay Bay just as easily the Penny Slot Court at O'Dell's.

 It was all the same town to him.

Did Sophia know the real him?

Probably not.

Although they had been through a lot of shit together, beyond their chat in the car, they knew nothing of each other.

 Warrick needed to get away from this, all of this noise and lights and people.

 He needed to get away from women, so he wouldn't have to see Sophia's face on every single one of them.

Warrick threw some bills on the bar and descended on of the many spiral staircases into the main level.

 He strode swiftly between the tables, each one with some skanky girl dancing on top.

 He made his way past the last bachelor party and out into the humid street. It was almost one a.m., but things were just starting up on the Strip.

 For a minute Warrick just stood in the sidewalk, letting the flow of tourists move around him.

He could go home, get even more drunk, and go into work with a bad hang over.

 He could go to another bar and get his hang over from there.

 Or maybe he could just go to that new café –what was the name?–Andromeda?

His friend owned it.

He could just go have some free coffee and hope he hadn't drunk too much already.

The atmosphere inside Andromeda wasn't the most cheerful.

 The place was dim, with small black, wooden tables scattered about infront of the small stage.

 Warrick sat down at one of the tables in the back, hoping no one noticed him.

 The guy on stage was a small, overweight, balding man, who was trying to sing some Nirvana song.

 No such luck.

 Soon enough the guy took a hint and got off stage.

 Warrick didn't even look at the next singer who got up on stage. There was no introduction.

 Just a voice…rippling and resonation through out the tiny café, a single high note, rising and dipping like a seagull on an ocean gale.

Piano filtered into the back round.

The voice continued.

 Take a look at my body…look at my hands,

There's so much here that I don't understand…

Your face saving promises – whispered like prayers,

I don't need them…

Cause I've been treated wrong,

I've been treated so long,

As if I'm becoming untouchable…

Well, contempt loves the silence,

It thrives in the dark,

Fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart,

Your face saving promises,

 Sweet tender blooms,

I don't need them,

No – I don't need them,

I've been treated so wrong,

I've been treated so long,

As if I'm becoming untouchable…

Warrick didn't want to look. He knew what he would see…

I'm a slow dying flower,

I'm the frost killing hour,

Sweet turning sour – and  untouchable…

Oh I need - the darkness, the sweetness, the sadness, the weakness,

Oh I need this-

I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, angel – sweet love of my life…

Oh, I need this…

He knew that voice. Sophia.

He had come here to get away from her.

 And here she was.

Warrick had no idea Sophia could sing, she had never mentioned it.

 But still, this was the last place he had expected to see her.

Was she singing about him? What he had done to her?

No – he hadn't done anything, anything wrong.

Warrick got up and turned to the doors.

Your face saving promises,

 whispered like prayers…

I don't need them…

Warrick stopped.

Had she seen him?

He turned back around.

He had nothing to hide, nothing to run from.

Warrick turned back around

Sophia sat at a piano, farther back on the stage.

She was playing, singing at the same time, eyes closed, just feeling the music.

 Under the bright stage lights she looked like something ethereal, like those strangely beautiful twisted rainbows on the bottom of your whiskey glass.

You'd better shut your mouth,

Hold your breath,

Kiss me now – and catch your death…

Oh, I mean this…

On and on she played, the music creeping into Warrick. Holding him there.

"She's great, isn't she?"

One of the waitresses was standing next to him, watching  Sophia along with him.

"She's here every week, never wants any money, just ta sing,"

Warrick didn't say anything. Sophia had told him she could play piano, but never sing.

Sing like this.

The waitress smiled at a stunned Warrick.

"She's always at the bar afterward, if ya want a autograph,"

Sophia finished playing the last chords, to a standing ovation.

 Well, as big as an ovation as you could get from ten customers. She was defenetly the best one there.

Sophia stood up from the piano, blowing a kiss as she walked off stage.

 A now nervous middle - aged man appeared with a saxophone.

 How could you follow and act like that?

Sure enough, Sophia was at the bar.

  "Hey Danny, could I get some water? Thanks,"

She was gulping it down when she heard Warrick Brown behind her.

  "Maybe we should start calling you Jennifer instead of Sophia,"

It took a lot to keep from spitting out her water.

She spun around to see him less than six inches from her.

  "Did you see…have you been here the whole time?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

 She was a little embarrassed, but she wasn't gonna let Warrick see that. It wasn't like her and Warrick had anything.

 He'd held her in the locker room, been there for her when she needed him, that was all. They weren't involved.

 So why did she feel like she was talking to her ex. every time they met?

 "Yeah, I was here for it all, including the horrible guitar that went before you. You were a little better," Warrick smiled.

Sophia blushed.

She looked so cute when she was embarrassed.

  "You are just full of surprises,"

  "So I've heard," Sophia remarked.

Warrick wasn't sure why he had come up to here.

Wasn't he trying to get away from her?

But now that he was with her, Warrick couldn't remember why he was trying to get away in the first place.

  "Hey, do you wanna get out of here? We could go to the fountains at the Bellagio, there's hardly anyone here this time of night," Warrick blurted out.

Why the hell did I say that?

The offer was tempting…very, very tempting, but Sophia knew better than to say yes.

She didn't want to get involved with Warrick, it was way too…risky.

  "I'll have to take a rain check. My shift at the lab starts in two hours, and I need to go home and pretend to sleep,"

  "Yeah, I should probably get home too," he said softly.

Sophia hated to leave like this, but she needed to go.

  "Bye' Warrick,"

  "Bye'" he called after her.

There he was again. Alone, with only thoughts of Sophia drifting around his head. Only thoughts.

She wouldn't leave him alone.

  "Hey, bartender, whiskey…straight,"

He needed to see a twisted rainbow.

***Was that a bit too much play on the title? Well, even if it was I still love it blindly. Please read and review!***