A/N: Sorry for the little delay, my beta thought there was something that needed a small re-do and because she was right, I asked her to help me out, which she did, so Big Thanks to TangledPencils who added a little angst for our hero Nicky and for all of you Nicky whumpers:-

Thanks also to those who keep on reading and reviewing, lol. Enjoy the chapter.

Fire and Water

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 25

Time seemed to freeze, as Nick strained his eyes in the gloom in an effort to see and identify whoever he'd bumped into. His heart was pounding with adrenaline and he was afraid it might be heard by the other person, giving away his position it was that loud in his own ears. Seconds ticked by, neither men moving until suddenly, the tableau was broken by a swishing noise, and the barely felt movement in the air was the only other warning he received.

Instinctively Nick's gun hand went up in defense, but apparently his attacker was closer than he'd thought, and all he managed to do was deflect the blow and fire sliced down his forearm, while the gun was knocked out of his hold, clattering onto the floor.

Nick grunted in pain, stumbling backwards into the wall and dropping his flashlight as his other hand moved to grip his wounded arm.

He sucked in a breath as blood dripped between his fingers and down to the floor. His fingers twitched in an involuntary spasm, and he bit his tongue to keep from crying out aloud, pain mixing with frustration.

His opponent got a knife and Nick just dropped his gun!

'Good one Stokes, way to go.'

He suddenly tensed as the sound of harsh breathing that wasn't his own broke through his senses.

Nick shook his head to clear it, aware of the renewed ache of pulled stitches in his side, and stared in the direction the sounds were coming from, vainly trying to pierce the darkness to see the knife wielder.

The scraping sound of a foot being moved on the wooden floor alerted him that the other man was jockeying for a better position, and Nick pushed aside the pain from his arm and side, and dropped into a defensive crouch. He knew that this time it wouldn't be so easy to counter the blow, he was slowed down by his wounds and his opponent knew he'd got in a lucky strike with the knife.

Suddenly, the clouds that had been obscuring the quarter moon thinned, weak moonlight moved into the hall through the small window atop the stairs, and Nick realized he could make out the shape of a man before him. That's how he saw the coming blow, the reflection of the moonlight caught on the edge of the knife as it headed for Nick's torso.

Nick jumped to the right, closer to his attacker, but out of the weapon's reach and in one smooth move sent the man sprawling on his back by a strong left uppercut to the jaw. Hissing as the contact broke the skin on his knuckles, he shook his hand. The man on the floor was quiet, maybe unconscious, maybe just planning another attack, Nick didn't know. Maybe he was just waiting for his partner in crime to show up and finish Nick off. Either way, he wasn't about to just stand around and wait. Nick went to move and his foot came in contact with something that had him groping around trying to find it. Feeling the flashlight under his hand, Nick turned it on, aiming the beam of light straight to his attackers face.

For a moment he squinted, the sudden brightness just too painful for his sight, but he quickly recovered and took a good look at the guy. Nick's eyebrow went up in surprise when he saw the young face, scrunched up, one hand grasping at the already swelling jaw, the other desperately trying to shade his eyes. This wasn't the Masterhe feared, this was the pup. Jonah was still trying to get his bearings when Nick spotted the knife lying only a few inches from the kid's hand. He quickly leaned over and forced his twitching fingers to grab it, wincing as the move sent pain searing down his arm and pulled on the stitches in his side. Once he had the knife, he put it into his belt and swept the beam of light around, trying to also find his gun, feeling suddenly lucky when he spotted it not far away. He flashed the light back to Jonah's face and went for the gun, letting out a sigh as he closed his hand around it, holding it as securely as he could. But it was only a false sense of security and he knew it.

"Where is the other guy, the 'Master'?" Nick asked in hushed voice, trying to sound as threatening as possible, though the thick Texas accent that crept back when he was stressed didn't help much.

He was surprised then at Jonah's relieved look, not understanding that what the boy feared the most was that he was fighting with his Master and had lost. If it had really been the Master pointing the gun at him, Jonah knew he'd have been dead two minutes ago, so surely this was a cop! Even if the cop looked threatening, it was nothing against the knowledge that the Master was still lurking around.

"Where is the Master?" Nick repeated the question and wasn't prepared for the cocky grin and the spit of blood in the reply.

"Go to hell, cop!" Jonah hissed, then gave a laugh. "You're already dead man."

"Only if Brass gets to me first," Nick muttered and cocked his gun. "Okay, another question. This one you better answer, or I swear I will shoot you right here."

"You can't do that, you're a cop, and I'm unarmed," Jonah quipped with that annoyingly calm grin on his face that Nick longed to erase.

"I wouldn't bet on that, Jonah. You said it yourself, I'm a dead man. And if I happen to make it out alive, who's to say you were unarmed? I still have your knife." Nick felt a momentary triumph when he saw the grin vanish, being replaced by a nervous frown. It was a good thing that Jonah didn't know him, because if he did, he would know right away that Nick was bluffing. No way could he shoot the kid unarmed, not even in this situation. But thankfully, Jonah didn't know it.

"So, I am asking you now," Nick started, pointing the gun at Jonah's head, while the flashlight was shining right into his eyes. "Where is the victim? Where is Kyle Anders?"

-xXxXx-

The ride in the ambulance was uneventful and the EMT was glad when his patient seemed to accept that he was going to be checked out at Desert Palms. It wasn't an actual emergency now, so the sirens were turned off, a fact that Jim Brass was eternally grateful for, because every sound he heard made his headache worse. It was then with a pained grunt that he took notice of the shrilling phone vibrating in his pocket. Casting a remorseful look at the EMT, he reached for the thing, hoping that it would be good news. The EMT couldn't do more than glare at the cell phone...not daring to take it away from Brass, even though he regretted the fact as soon as he saw the grimace and heard the cursing.

"Everything all right?" he asked blandly, which earned him a disgruntled snort in reply.

"No, everything's not all right!" Brass snarled and dialed another number.

"Uhm, you should really try to rest, Detective," the EMT ventured, and reached for the cell, but was quickly discouraged by the glare.

"Don't you try it kid," Brass threatenedand the EMT pulled back his hand as if scalded. He wasn't easily scared, after all, he dealt with angry drunks and other individuals on a daily basis and he could handle them, but this guy wasn't a drunk, he was a cop…a very annoyed armed cop with a headache. Clearing his throat, the EMT sat back on his seat and opted to listen.

"Grissom? Yeah, it's me. Listen, I just got a call from dispatch and-" but the detective was interrupted by the voice on the other end and his frown deepened.

"Yeah, I know that Nick was following our vic. Yeah, I think he was following that jerk Travis when he called me, but his cell went out. Now he's called 9-1-1 and asked for support. He gave an address downtown where the master took Kyle Anders-" the EMT listened as the detective gave out the address along with some more facts, but he perked up when he heard the last sentence. "I'm heading there now." With that the detective ended the call and looked at the EMT.

"You heard the address. Now tell your friend behind the wheel to turn it."

"Now wait just a moment, this isn't a damn taxi!" the EMT objected fiercely but pulled back startled, when the detective reached into his pocket.

"See this?" Brass shovedthe badge right under the EMT's nose. "It says police officer. Now if I remember correctly, you're supposed to react to any emergency call. We have a cop in a possible deadly situation, a hostage who's supposed to be burned alive and two dangerous killers... all in one place. If that isn't an emergency, I don't know what is."

"I still can't just turn the ambulance with a patient already on board and go downtown. That's not even our district," the EMT protested meekly.

"I don't care whose district it is!" Brass barked and when he saw the EMT flinch, he continued in a less threatening tone. "And if my being the patient is the problem, I will sign the AMA papers."

He saw the hesitation in the EMT's eyes, so he tried one final time.

"Look, if I'm right and that thick headed Texan went in, then my head will be the least of your worries," Brass said and with one last pointed look at his badge, the EMT turned and spoke to his partnerOnce the ambulance had turned around and the driver had flicked the siren on, the EMT picked up the microphone and informed the hospital of their new destination. By that time, Jim Brass was holding on with all his might, trying to keep down his lunch as the ambulance sped up toward the trouble.

-xXxXx-

Someone else was in the building, he was sure of that. But when he turned on the flashlight in the hall, it was empty. Making his way down the stairs, he froze for a second, feelinglike he was being watched, but there was no sound, no motion, so he continued down the stairs. He knew that leaving Jonah alone was a risk, but sending him to check out the origin of the noise was a bigger one. Not because he would be easily overpowered by the police, 'if' it was the police and not just some vagrant trying to find a place to sleep off the night. Jonah posed a flight risk. The Master realized it earlier at the warehouse, sensing Jonah's attempt to stay calm. He knew the kid was just pretending compliance; that was one of the reasons he gave him the dose of crystal-meth, knowing that it wouldkeep him on the job a little while longer. But the Master also knew that given the slightest chance, Jonah would run.

He was walking down in the lounge, when a movement to his right caught his attention. Spinning around, the beam of the flashlight reflected on two eyes and the Master cringed in disgust. The rat was big and it chittered threateningly toward the human, before turning and scooting away through a hole in the wall. The Mastersnorted and shook his head, thinking that maybe it was just the rat making the noise. Still, he checked out the hall and the lounge, shining the light into every corner, before he turned toward the entry door and frowned. He knew for sure he'dclosed it, yet now it was slightly ajar, letting in the warm breeze. Covering the distance to the door in two quick steps, the Master peeked outside. No movement and definitely no police cars. The street looked just as dead as when they came, yet something was different. There, just at the corner of the street was a parked car. It wasn't there before and it surely didn't belong.

So the rat didn't make the noise after all, someone else did. It wasn't a vagrant and as the car wasn't a squad car, he didn't think it was a cop either. That reminded him of his earlier encounter with the two men in the desert and he growled, the wound on his arm still throbbing. Their car hadn't been a squad car either, but he was sure that they were cops: they'd acted just like it. He'd made a mistake then: he should have finished what he'd started. Frowning fiercely, he turned and headed back toward the stairs, swearing he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

-xXxXx-

"Kyle Anders?" Nick asked in a low voice when he saw the man tied to the chair.He was fighting with his bonds but went deathly still when the beam of the flashlight hit him. Nick didn't get a reply, but it didn't ruffle him. He nodded at Jonah who'd led him to the room, and with a pointed look sent him to stand in the far corner of the room, away from Kyle and himself.

"I'm Nick Stokes, CSI. The police are on their way." Saying this, Nick made his way to the man, and with trembling fingers, removed the tape from his mouth.

"Thank God," Kyle croaked, then cleared his throat and spat, once again fighting the urge to retch. "Get me out of here," he pleaded and Nick nodded. He looked down at the tape holding Kyle in the chair and frowned. He needed to hold the flashlight, preferably trainedat Jonah, along with his gun, yet he also needed to cut the tape. He just didn't have enough hands to do it, let alone uninjured hands. His right arm was already screaming at him from the strain of holding the gun, he just couldn't manage the flashlight as well.

"Okay, here we go," he muttered and put the flashlight into his mouth, then with his free hand pulled out the knife and started cutting off the tapes holding Kyle's left arm, all the while looking at Jonah, the gun aimed at him. It was a tedious job and almost impossible to do without cutting Kyle in the process.

"Ouch!" Kyle yelped when Nick's knife nicked his skin. The startled criminalist instinctively lost his concentration and looked down to see the damage.

It was the chance Jonah had been waiting for.

He'd snuck the lighter from his pocket and hidden it in his palm when they entered the room. Since then he'd been waiting for the right moment when the cop was distracted. Because the man didn't trust him to go near Kyle with a knife in his hand and cut him free, he'dhad to do it himself. Now that the man was looking down, the flashlight aimed at Kyle and the gun slightly lowered, Jonah flicked on the lighter and threw it towards the open gas can that was lying on the floor.

Nick registered the motion and looked up, but all he saw was a small light flying toward them. He watched it fall as if in slow motion, saw the flame from the lighter jump to the puddle on the floor, the flame erupting, consuming the gasoline that had soaked into the boards and spreading to the dry timber of the floor. Nick didn't have the time to shoot at Jonah, who was already half way out of the door. He could only watch as the fire spread and as it made its way to their feet. It was only Kyle's panicked scream that broke through his paralysis and made Nick realize he had to do something, or they would both die.

TBC

Hmm, just what's gonna happen now?