A/N: Many thanks for the reviews. I was in two minds to post this chapter. My Muse has taken this in a direction that I wasn't quite expecting. Clearly my Muse has a plan and she's determined that I follow it. Many thanks as always to piccolina789 for the beta, and giving me the confidence to write this.

Everything seemed to happen all at once.

Grissom stumbled backwards, only stopping when his back connected with the wall with a jarring thud that sent a shockwave of pain through his nose. With a muffled cry, he slid down the wall, his hands covering his bleeding nose.

Brass instinctively stepped in front of Sara, his back to her protectively, his gun drawn, as his fellow officers tackled Garrett to the ground.

"Gil!"

Sara's only concern was for Grissom, and she pushed against Brass' back in order to kneel down beside the stricken Grissom.

Grissom's glasses hung askew. The bridge of his glasses was bent and one lens was cracked. Blood trickled through the gap of his fingers as his hands covered his nose.

Sara gently removed his glasses, noting with relief that the lens, though cracked, had not completely shattered.

As Sara checked him over, Brass glanced down at them briefly, before he dug into his trouser pocket, brought out a clean hankie and passed it to Sara.

Grissom gingerly placed the hankerchief over his nose, before pinching the soft part of his nose and leaning forward slightly with his head tipped forward.

Meanwhile, Garrett continued to struggle against his captors. His hate-filled gaze was still deadlocked on Grissom, with a gleam of satisfaction.

"This isn't over, Grissom!" Garrett warned, as he was hauled to his feet. "You'll pay for this, ya hear me? I'll get you for this!"

"Get him outta here!" Brass ordered before turning his attention to the couple.

He knelt down beside Grissom, putting his hand on Grissom's shoulder. Sara carefully examined Grissom's nose, which had thankfully stopped bleeding. She could already see signs of slight swelling over the bridge of his nose and a bruise starting to form underneath his eyes.

"We'd better get Doc Robbins to check you over," said Brass. "Just to make sure that Garrett didn't break your nose."

"I'm fine," Grissom insisted as Brass helped him to his feet, his attention on Sara. "What about you, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but Jim's right, we should get Robbins to check you over, just in case. It'll make me feel better," she added as he was about to protest again.

Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't hear the end of it until they were both satisfied, Grissom reluctantly agreed. As the three of them headed toward autopsy, they were unaware that the whole thing had been witnessed. They didn't see a tall figure step back into the shadows as they passed by.

With an unsympathetic smile, the observer reached for their phone and quickly dialed.

The call was answered on the fourth ring.

"Get yourself down to the Crime Lab. I need access to a prisoner without causing too much suspicion. Meet me in the day supervisor's office."

Al Robbins made a thorough check of Grissom's nose. Grissom winced as the coroner manipulated his nose. Robbins apologised repeatedly as he continued his examination.

"You're not my bitch," Grissom muttered, unaware that he'd voiced his thoughts aloud as he tried to take his mind off the pain.

"I know that, Baby," Sara reassured him, now too concerned for his well-being to remain professional.

Al and Jim shared a look. Any other time, they might tease her for using a pet name in front of them. In this case, however, they silently agreed to let it go.

"Well, you're damn lucky that this is only a non-displaced fracture," concluded Robbins, finally finished with his exam of Grissom. "From what you've told me, this could have been a lot worse. All I can suggest is put some more ice on that, when you get home, and take it easy, in case your nose starts bleeding again. You're going to have a lovely pair of black eyes tomorrow."

In the floor above the morgue, the scheduled meeting in the day supervisor's office had taken a tense tone.

"You're skating on thin ice, and you know it! You're damn lucky that you walked away last time."

"Which is why I hired you. You owe me."

"And you're not going to let me forget it, are you? You're not untouchable you know. One day, you'll go too far and it'll end with both of our careers down the toilet."

"It'll never happen. He'll make the perfect scrape goat. From what I saw, he won't take much persuading. Trust me."

"It was trusting you that got me into this mess."

"I said I'd look after you and I have. But remember this, if I go down, I take you with me. Get me into see Garrett. I don't care how you do it."

Garrett watched as four police officers and the driver of the prison transport bus exited the vehicle and headed back into PD, leaving him alone on the bus. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a satisfied smirk on his face, happy at the apparent delay in whatever it was he was waiting for.

"You seem pleased with yourself, and rightly so."

Garrett's eyes flew open at the unexpected voice.

"Who the fuck are you?" Garrett demanded, not appreciating the fact someone had sneaked up on him. He glared at the shadowed figure that stood several feet from him.

"I think you'd appreciate 'business associate' much better than 'friend'. I've read your record."

Garrett laughed derisively.

"Then you know damn well I don't make deals with cops. They tend to screw you over, so don't waste your breath or my time."

"I saw what you did to Grissom and I was very impressed," the shadowed voice continued, hoping to appeal to Garrett's vanity. "He must have really pissed you off. You certainly took that smug look off his face."

Garrett's eyes narrowed, his smirk returning as he nodded at the memory.

"The son-of-a-bitch is trying to set me up. I set him straight."

"Let's say… if another… opportunity arose, would you take it?"

Garrett snorted laughter again. He held up his handcuffed hands and stretched out his shackled feet. They were taking every precaution this time.

"You're as dumb as that son of a bitch that put me back in here. I told you, I don't do deals with cops."

The figure laughed.

"For someone smart enough to bring Grissom down a peg or two, you're pretty dumb. By now, it should be pretty obvious that I'm not your average cop. I don't worship the ground Grissom walks on. I see him for the conniving bastard he is, just like you do. I'm sure he's quite capable of setting you up if he put his mind to it. I wouldn't put it past him. He needs to be taught a lesson he'll not forget in a hurry. And I think you're just the man to do it."

Garrett was silent for a few minutes as he considered the proposal. It did sound tempting. Having a rogue cop on side could only be an advantage.

"What would I get out of this?" Garrett wanted to know.

"My protection. And Gil Grissom on a silver plate."

Again, Garrett remained silent as he considered his options.

"Okay, I'm in," he replied eventually. "What do I have to do?"

"Right now, nothing. He'll likely be expecting you to attack him at the next chance you get, so he will surround himself with protection like the coward he is," the shadowed figure said, continuing to manipulate Garrett. "You do what I say and I can protect you. If not… I'll throw you to the sharks. I'll be in touch. Until then, there should be no need to tell you that this conversation never happened."

Garrett grinned as the figure exited the prison bus.

It was open season on Gil Grissom.