A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far...I really appreciate the encouragement! There's somewhat stronger language in this chapter, so just a head's up. As always, I don't own CSI, nor do I own the movie 'Turner and Hooch'.

Previously: All color drained from Nick's face. "That's my address."

Forgetting the casebox, Nick raced down the hall to the stairwell, taking the stairs to the parking garage. Dimly he heard Grissom behind him, yelling for the rest of the team as he clattered down the stairs. Reaching the Tahoe, Nick quickly started it and pulled out of the garage, passing the team as he drove out.

The drive to his home wasn't long, but to Nick it seemed like forever before he squealed to a stop. Patrol cars surrounded the building; officers were scattered all over, all with their guns drawn. Brass hurried over as Nick got out of the Tahoe. "What's happened?" Nick demanded.

"Nick, you're not on the case…" Brass began, but Nick cut him off.

"I'm not asking about the case, damn it! Is Johanna in there?" Nick wanted to grasp Brass by his suit coat and shake the information out of him, but he knew that wouldn't get him anywhere…except maybe into the back of a patrol car. Looking around, he spotted a dusty green truck. "She's here," he said lowly, fear washing over him. "That's her truck." It was in the same space as it had been when he left earlier that evening.

Brass turned towards where he was looking. "Yes it is. I was on the phone with one of the deputies when the shots were fired. I got here as soon as I could." The rest of the CSI team had shown up on-scene, and Brass quickly filled them in as they headed towards the building. "We're waiting on a negotiator, but my men haven't seen much movement in there. When the officers knocked, they said there was barking from inside, and that's when the shots were fired."

"Do they have a sharpshooter called in?" Warrick questioned.

"He's setting up now," Brass confirmed.

The next few moments were tense as the team waited for a word, any word. Finally Brass's radio crackled to life. "Sharpshooter in place."

"10-4. Take a look around," Brass instructed.

After a moment the voice came on the radio again. "It looks like we're going to need a bus, sir, possibly two. Two people on the floor…one's been shot. Looks like our hostage, sir." Nick cursed as Brass called for an ambulance.

"Can you see the perp?" Brass questioned.

"Affirmative. Well, at least his legs. He's not moving, but it's unknown if he is still in possession of the gun."

Nick waited with bated breath as Brass weighed the options available. Finally he spoke into his radio. "Unit one, get into position." When the unit leader relayed that they were in position, Brass gave the command to infiltrate. Nick heard the sound of his door being kicked open, a snarling bark, then a shout.

"Someone get Animal Control! I don't want to shoot this dog!"

Brass turned to Nick. "You want to take care of this?"

With a glance at Grissom who nodded, Nick cautiously entered his home, Brass right behind him. Immediately he took in the sight: Officers had their guns trained on Max Greene, who was prostrate on the living room floor. Zorro had his jaws clamped firmly around Greene's neck; the terror in the man's eyes was unmistakable. Three feet away, Amigo was standing over the handgun. He growled at anyone who came too close. Behind him, partially in the kitchen, lay Johanna's motionless form in a slowly growing pool of blood. Averting his eyes, Nick carefully approached the rumbling dog. "Amigo," he said, his voice low. Seeing his ears perk up, he continued. "Amigo, buddy. You're a good boy, aren't you, guarding that gun. Can I pick it up, buddy?" As he was talking, Nick was slowly moving forward, easing his hand out to pick up the gun. Amigo whined softly as Nick picked up the gun and held it out for a nearby officer to take. "Stay here, buddy," he said as he moved to Johanna's side. Pulling a dishtowel off the counter, he pressed it to the bleeding wound on her chest. "Johanna?" he whispered. "Honey, can you hear me?"

"Good job, Nick," Brass said. "Can you do something about the other one?"

"I'll try, Brass." Nick looked towards his dog. The usually docile Zorro was hunkered low, his large jaws around the man's neck. It reminded Nick so much of a few scenes in Turner & Hooch that he would have laughed if the situation wasn't so tense. "Zorro…let him go. Release. Drop it. Umm…leave it." Nick racked his brain for a command to make the dog release the perpetrator. Zorro didn't move. Nick sighed, frustrated. The paramedics couldn't come in and attend to Johanna until Greene was in custody. "C'mon, Zorro, give it up already!" Instantly the dog released the man's neck and the officers swooped in, flipping him over and slapping the cuffs on him. Nick heard Brass radio for the paramedics to be sent in, and they soon bustled in. Nick obediently backed away and let the professionals do their job. Johanna's skin was grayish-white from blood loss, and the paramedics quickly got her onto a stretcher and whisked her out of the building to the waiting ambulance.

"Nick." Grissom set a hand on his shoulders. "I'll understand if you want to go to the hospital with her."

Nick didn't look up; instead he studied the pattern of Johanna's blood on his hands. "I want to go," he said finally, "but first I want to hear that bastard's reason for going after someone like my Johanna." He hadn't meant to say 'my Johanna', it had just slipped out. Grissom nodded, gently propelling Nick towards the door. The sky was lightening as the dawn approached, but Nick barely noticed. He could still hear the mournful wail of the ambulance's siren as it headed to the hospital.

Catherine approached the two men. "Nick," she said, almost hesitantly, "I'll go to the hospital, so you can get cleaned up and take those two to the lab." She pointed to Zorro and Amigo, who had followed Nick outside and were now sitting forlornly at his feet.

Nick nodded. "Thanks, Cath." He watched Sara and Warrick collect their crime kits and head into his home before he mechanically loaded the dogs into the Tahoe.

Grissom stopped him from opening the driver's side door. "Let me drive, Nicky," he said simply. Nick didn't say anything; he just walked to the other side of the vehicle and climbed in. The drive to the crime lab was short, and by the time Nick had dropped the dogs off with an unhappy Hodges in Trace and scrubbed his hands clean, Brass had Max Greene in Interrogation. Having waived his rights to an attorney, the man was ready to talk.

TBC...

Please don't tar and feather me!