Hi guys. Thanks again for the reviews. It does mean a lot to know that
people are reading the story. Sorry I couldn't get this chapter up sooner,
but I'm getting over some minor writer's block. Plus, I found out this guy
I really like got engaged, so that's a bummer. Oh well, enough of my
personal angst. Let's get back to CSI angst. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
I promise to post the next installment by Friday at the latest. I'm
pretty sure it will be sooner.
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Charlie was quickly losing patience with Gil Grissom. Worries clouded in and easily swamped his drug addled brain. The damn cop hadn't called back and he needed another fix. Fuck him, Charlie thought, I ain't waiting to shoot up for nobody. Everything was happening too fast. His ex was the bitch from hell, and he imagined her leading the cops to him. The fucking speed was making him edgy. All this hostage stuff hadn't even figured in the plan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Charlie twitched his shoulders as he tried to keep himself focused on any sounds from the hallway while attempting to deal with the increasingly demanding Gil Grissom.
"Her breathing's fine," Charlie muttered again.
Grissom turned to Charlie, then focused on Sara. "Her breathing is labored and could be indicative of a collapsed lung. I'm trying to make this easier on all of us." Willing himself to relax and not become overly emotional, Grissom breathed deeply and rubbed Sara's arm.
"You're pushing your luck, Grissom. Worry more about your own ass. That's your fucking problem. If you hadn't given testimony against me, then you and your friend wouldn't be here, would ya? Must suck for you, knowing you caused all this shit."
"I'm trying to get us all out of here alive, Charlie."
"Fuckin' good guy, huh? Well, she's almost done," he tilted his head toward Sara.
Ignoring him, Grissom spoke. "You know, I don't care what your situation was or why you feel the need to do this. The only, and I emphasize only, thing I care about right know is helping Sara Sidle. The cops want to know that your hostages are alive. If that benefits you then so be it. I would think that you'd be looking for every break you can get."
Charlie glared at Grissom, then backtracked to settle into the chair. "Go ahead, waist your fuckin' time. I don't give a shit. Not like you'll be cuddlin' with her anytime soon."
Grissom turned his full attention to Sara. Her eyes met his. "Sara, I'm going to lift your shirt to check your ribs. Please don't hit me." She smiled at his joke and he raised her shirt carefully, revealing severe bruising along her right side.
"Oooh, take it all off," Charlie catcalled.
Grissom's fingers barely touched her skin and she whimpered in pain. "I know it hurts, Sara. I'm sorry. He ran his fingers lightly over her ribcage and felt a nauseating crunchiness toward the bottom. Fear creased Grissom's brow and he watched as Sara bit her lip to cut off the cry that came from her throat. His own throat constricted and again the depth of pain he felt shook him to the core. He lowered her shirt and brought his hands to the uninjured side of her face, stroking her skin gently. Grissom's own face cleared of everything except a small grin for her. He didn't need Sara to see worry in his eyes. He knew it was an exercise in futility, though. She was the most perceptive person he'd ever met.
"Sara, for now, don't take deep breaths and try not to move. I don't think your lung is punctured, but you have two crushed ribs, at least." She nodded and her eyelids began to droop. His hands moved to her forehead and he quickly checked each of her pupils. Finding them equal, but unusually small from the heroin, Grissom sighed and laid his fingers alongside her cheek.
"Sara, honey, I know you want to sleep, but I really need you to stay awake, ok? Please, try to keep your eyes open." She nodded at him. Grissom scanned the rest of her body and noted the patch of blood on her jeans. He turned his attention there.
Sara's eyes sprung open and she peered at him curiously as his hands rested on her thigh. "Not now, Griss. I've got a headache."
Startled, he moved his hands and looked at her. She managed to twitch the corner of her mouth slightly at him and he relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"He jabbed the needle there when he took me," she frowned.
"I know."
"Of course, if you want to leave your hands there, I'm sure it would help me stay awake."
Grissom almost choked as he felt the laughter erupt from his belly. God it felt good to laugh, even in these circumstances, he thought. "Well, considering the circumstances, let's try talking, ok?"
"Ok," she smiled. "I'll be waiting for good circumstances, though."
Charlie was no longer amused. He quickly crossed to Grissom and hit the kneeling CSI in the face with the handle of the .38. "Get the fuck away from her!" he screamed.
Sara reached to support Grissom's head as he crumpled forward. "Leave him alone, you goddamn lunatic. Griss, can you hear me? Grissom?"
********************
Brass rolled a pencil between his fingers as he listened to the first ring. Catherine and Warrick gave him a confident nod, while Nick and Greg, eyes focused on the console, seemed intent on the impending conversation. Brass pulled the pencil into his fist and tensed it to the breaking point. The line was picked-up and it crackled loudly over the speaker.
"Yeah?"
"Charlie? This is Jim Brass."
"My cop buddy. So what you got to tell me, man? Where's my car?"
"I'm working on that. Just ironing out the arrangements, Charlie. How are CSI's Grissom and Sidle?"
"Well, your boy here's a little pushy," Charlie sneered.
"I need to know how they are? Can I speak to Sara Sidle?"
"What the fuck have you given me!? Huh? You don't talk to nobody until you come through with a solid plan, motherfucker! I want a car and cash. You get me both, then call back!"
"Charlie, you need to listen to me."
"No, I don't! I got the gun and the hostages. You try anything an' they'll both be dead before you get near me. Understand?"
The line clicked as Charlie cut off the connection.
"Damnitt!" Brass spat. "I'll strangle the stupid SOB myself!"
"Get in line, Jim," Catherine sighed.
Warrick rested his hands on Catherine's shoulders as he addressed Brass. "Doesn't sound like he's leaving us much choice."
"Brass, will the department actually give him a car?" Nick asked
"The department will make a show of giving him the car and money, drawing it out as long as possible. Hell, they'll even park the damn thing in front of the building, but Dunn's not going anywhere."
Catherine yawned and leaned her head back toward Warrick. "SWAT will take him out before he gets ten feet from the building."
"Yeah, well,' Greg sputtered, "as long as he doesn't take out Sara and Grissom. Shouldn't they be the primary concern, Brass?"
"They are, Greg."
"Maybe with you, Jim. It's SWAT that I'm worried about jumping the gun, so to speak," Catherine said rubbing her eyes.
Warrick leaned over her shoulder. "Why don't you grab a nap, Cath. You've been going non-stop."
"So has everyone else," she retorted.
Brass gave her a long look. "You're exhausted, Catherine. Go grab an hour in one of the Tahoes. We'll wake you if anything breaks."
"No offense, Jim, but you've looked better yourself. I'll go along while you brief SWAT."
"Jeez, and we call Sara stubborn," Nick laughed.
"Well, if I've learned anything working with you, Catherine, it's how damned headstrong you are," Brass smirked. "Let's go."
TBC
***************************************
Charlie was quickly losing patience with Gil Grissom. Worries clouded in and easily swamped his drug addled brain. The damn cop hadn't called back and he needed another fix. Fuck him, Charlie thought, I ain't waiting to shoot up for nobody. Everything was happening too fast. His ex was the bitch from hell, and he imagined her leading the cops to him. The fucking speed was making him edgy. All this hostage stuff hadn't even figured in the plan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Charlie twitched his shoulders as he tried to keep himself focused on any sounds from the hallway while attempting to deal with the increasingly demanding Gil Grissom.
"Her breathing's fine," Charlie muttered again.
Grissom turned to Charlie, then focused on Sara. "Her breathing is labored and could be indicative of a collapsed lung. I'm trying to make this easier on all of us." Willing himself to relax and not become overly emotional, Grissom breathed deeply and rubbed Sara's arm.
"You're pushing your luck, Grissom. Worry more about your own ass. That's your fucking problem. If you hadn't given testimony against me, then you and your friend wouldn't be here, would ya? Must suck for you, knowing you caused all this shit."
"I'm trying to get us all out of here alive, Charlie."
"Fuckin' good guy, huh? Well, she's almost done," he tilted his head toward Sara.
Ignoring him, Grissom spoke. "You know, I don't care what your situation was or why you feel the need to do this. The only, and I emphasize only, thing I care about right know is helping Sara Sidle. The cops want to know that your hostages are alive. If that benefits you then so be it. I would think that you'd be looking for every break you can get."
Charlie glared at Grissom, then backtracked to settle into the chair. "Go ahead, waist your fuckin' time. I don't give a shit. Not like you'll be cuddlin' with her anytime soon."
Grissom turned his full attention to Sara. Her eyes met his. "Sara, I'm going to lift your shirt to check your ribs. Please don't hit me." She smiled at his joke and he raised her shirt carefully, revealing severe bruising along her right side.
"Oooh, take it all off," Charlie catcalled.
Grissom's fingers barely touched her skin and she whimpered in pain. "I know it hurts, Sara. I'm sorry. He ran his fingers lightly over her ribcage and felt a nauseating crunchiness toward the bottom. Fear creased Grissom's brow and he watched as Sara bit her lip to cut off the cry that came from her throat. His own throat constricted and again the depth of pain he felt shook him to the core. He lowered her shirt and brought his hands to the uninjured side of her face, stroking her skin gently. Grissom's own face cleared of everything except a small grin for her. He didn't need Sara to see worry in his eyes. He knew it was an exercise in futility, though. She was the most perceptive person he'd ever met.
"Sara, for now, don't take deep breaths and try not to move. I don't think your lung is punctured, but you have two crushed ribs, at least." She nodded and her eyelids began to droop. His hands moved to her forehead and he quickly checked each of her pupils. Finding them equal, but unusually small from the heroin, Grissom sighed and laid his fingers alongside her cheek.
"Sara, honey, I know you want to sleep, but I really need you to stay awake, ok? Please, try to keep your eyes open." She nodded at him. Grissom scanned the rest of her body and noted the patch of blood on her jeans. He turned his attention there.
Sara's eyes sprung open and she peered at him curiously as his hands rested on her thigh. "Not now, Griss. I've got a headache."
Startled, he moved his hands and looked at her. She managed to twitch the corner of her mouth slightly at him and he relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"He jabbed the needle there when he took me," she frowned.
"I know."
"Of course, if you want to leave your hands there, I'm sure it would help me stay awake."
Grissom almost choked as he felt the laughter erupt from his belly. God it felt good to laugh, even in these circumstances, he thought. "Well, considering the circumstances, let's try talking, ok?"
"Ok," she smiled. "I'll be waiting for good circumstances, though."
Charlie was no longer amused. He quickly crossed to Grissom and hit the kneeling CSI in the face with the handle of the .38. "Get the fuck away from her!" he screamed.
Sara reached to support Grissom's head as he crumpled forward. "Leave him alone, you goddamn lunatic. Griss, can you hear me? Grissom?"
********************
Brass rolled a pencil between his fingers as he listened to the first ring. Catherine and Warrick gave him a confident nod, while Nick and Greg, eyes focused on the console, seemed intent on the impending conversation. Brass pulled the pencil into his fist and tensed it to the breaking point. The line was picked-up and it crackled loudly over the speaker.
"Yeah?"
"Charlie? This is Jim Brass."
"My cop buddy. So what you got to tell me, man? Where's my car?"
"I'm working on that. Just ironing out the arrangements, Charlie. How are CSI's Grissom and Sidle?"
"Well, your boy here's a little pushy," Charlie sneered.
"I need to know how they are? Can I speak to Sara Sidle?"
"What the fuck have you given me!? Huh? You don't talk to nobody until you come through with a solid plan, motherfucker! I want a car and cash. You get me both, then call back!"
"Charlie, you need to listen to me."
"No, I don't! I got the gun and the hostages. You try anything an' they'll both be dead before you get near me. Understand?"
The line clicked as Charlie cut off the connection.
"Damnitt!" Brass spat. "I'll strangle the stupid SOB myself!"
"Get in line, Jim," Catherine sighed.
Warrick rested his hands on Catherine's shoulders as he addressed Brass. "Doesn't sound like he's leaving us much choice."
"Brass, will the department actually give him a car?" Nick asked
"The department will make a show of giving him the car and money, drawing it out as long as possible. Hell, they'll even park the damn thing in front of the building, but Dunn's not going anywhere."
Catherine yawned and leaned her head back toward Warrick. "SWAT will take him out before he gets ten feet from the building."
"Yeah, well,' Greg sputtered, "as long as he doesn't take out Sara and Grissom. Shouldn't they be the primary concern, Brass?"
"They are, Greg."
"Maybe with you, Jim. It's SWAT that I'm worried about jumping the gun, so to speak," Catherine said rubbing her eyes.
Warrick leaned over her shoulder. "Why don't you grab a nap, Cath. You've been going non-stop."
"So has everyone else," she retorted.
Brass gave her a long look. "You're exhausted, Catherine. Go grab an hour in one of the Tahoes. We'll wake you if anything breaks."
"No offense, Jim, but you've looked better yourself. I'll go along while you brief SWAT."
"Jeez, and we call Sara stubborn," Nick laughed.
"Well, if I've learned anything working with you, Catherine, it's how damned headstrong you are," Brass smirked. "Let's go."
TBC