Disclaimer: Still don't own!
A/N: Hey. I thought I'd be nice and update quickly again. I've got a really important science test next week so I have to study for that and also I've got course work, so the next chapter may take a little longer. Sorry. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: The Madhatter, PITAchic, MissyJane, Galxychld, pdhtgal, cRaZyPiXiE, A Bloom and ArodLoverus2001. Thank you so much and please keep them coming. Well on with the plot; the whole gang's in this chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex
Warrick was enjoying being away from work and for once sleeping the night hours like normal people. But his peaceful sleep was disturbed by the phone blaring into life. He shifted stiffly as he rose, wiping his blurred eyes with his hand and fumbling with his other hand for the irritating phone.
"Hello?" He answered groggily.
"Warrick?"
The fear in the familiar voice on the other end made his systems jolt into fully alert.
"Hey, is everything ok?" He asked concerned.
"Can...can you come over?" The voice pleaded.
"Sure. I'll be there in less then 15 minutes," He promised, "Ok?"
"Ok."
He hung up the phone and hurriedly pulled on some clothes, driven by the worry in his heart.
~*~*~*~*~
Sara hated it when they couldn't solve a case. It raged her that someone had gotten away with, so far, four murders; this time leaving two kids orphans. But it was her hatred for the preps that drove her and forced her to do her best. Only her best was ever good enough. But right now she was grateful that Gris had told her that she could go.
She continued the walk from the locker room to the lab where Nick was working on the dress. A dress free from evidence she bet.
She let out a sigh. She didn't know what was up with him lately. He'd been a bit distant and cut off, always avoiding her eye when he repeated his lame reassurance when she asked what was wrong. At first she thought it might be the case, but now she wasn't so sure. She had tried to talk to Warrick to see if he knew anything, but he'd unconvincingly denied knowing anything. Sara had known them both long enough to know that something was up.
'Damn you Hank for screwing up my relationship radar,' She cursed him silently.
She paused at the door, watching Nick as he finished analysing the dress, totally oblivious to her presences. Quietly, she walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist.
"Hey cowboy," She whispered softly, planting a kiss on his neck.
"Hey."
Did she imagine it or did he stiffen uncomfortably when he realised that it was her?
'It was probably your mind playing tricks on you,' a voice hissed. 'Get a grip Sidle.'
"Found anything?"
"Nope," He replied blankly.
Just like every dress before.
"Well Gris is letting me go early, so I can always warm up the bed for you," She told him playfully.
"Yeah," was his simple reply, sliding out of her arms and backing away.
She couldn't suppress her sigh of frustration even if she wanted to. He hadn't once yet looked straight at her, let alone made eye contact.
"Nick, what's going on?" She demanded, any ideas of tact flying out the window.
"I don't know wha..."
"Bullshit Nick," She cut across annoyed at him for keeping her at arm's length. "You've been distant and avoiding me. And you're awkward when I'm around. Don't think I haven't noticed; I'm a level 3 for a reason. So tell me what the hell's going on?"
Nick shuffled uncomfortably, fixing his eyes on the floor and away from her questioning glare. He'd out this off as long as he could, worried about how she might react. Worried that she would be upset like she was now.
"You remember Michelle Evans?" He began.
"Yeah," Sara replied. How could she forget her? She was one of Nick's exs. Not only that, but they had also been engaged once. She swallowed; "What about her?"
"She's coming to Las Vegas."
"When?"
He now dared to slowly meet her gaze.
"Tomorrow."
There was a pause as he waited for Sara's reaction.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me before?" She shouted at him.
"Because...I don't know how you'd react. I didn't want you getting pissed off with me," He stated, "Like you are now."
"How'd you expect me to react? I'm pissed cos you didn't tell me before. Where you ever gonna tell me?"
He stayed silent, dropping his gaze again, ashamed at causing this fight, at not telling her before.
"Great!" She muttered angrily, turning away from him. "This is just perfect!" She spun back, "Why the hell did you even have the need to keep this from me?"
"Because..." He stuttered, all the reasons he had before now sounded very stupid. "Because...I'm an idiot ok. I shouldn't have done it. She's just a friend now Sara, but I was scared that you would take it badly. I know it was stupid of me. That's the only reason I swear."
"Yeah right," She muttered bitterly.
Nick didn't like the look on her face. A look he'd seen before when she talked about a man they both despised.
"Sara, we're just friends. Nothing else is going on," He promised, but the look remained. It both upset and angered him to see her looking at him like that. "Don't you dare start comparing me to Hank. I'm not him. I'm nothing like him. Sara you know I wouldn't do anyth..."
"Nick?"
Grissom's voice travelled down the corridor, cutting Nick off in mid sentence. It was followed a few seconds later by the owner. He walked in, but stopped when he saw the faces mixed with pain and anger.
"Am I interrupting something?" He asked cautiously.
Nick was about to answer, but Sara got there first.
"No," She responded coolly.
Grissom had a feeling that her tone was directed more at Nick then himself. It was obvious that they'd been fighting, a serious argument at that, but he didn't know what about. Two of his CSIs falling out was the last thing he needed right now.
'But Nick and Sara will sort it out,' He assured himself. 'They always do.'
He decided to ignore the thick tension in the room and get to his point.
"Found anything Nick?" He asked, a small gleam of hope staining his voice.
"No. Sorry Gris," He answered, but his tone lacked any sympathy.
Gris sorely wanted to have a go at them for letting their personal lives effect their professional, but he knew it was the last thing any of them needed.
"Well, Al's finished the autopsy," Grissom informed him.
"Ok, I'll meet you there in a moment," Nick replied, but his eyes remained on Sara, who didn't look back.
"Ok," Grissom said and took his cue to leave.
"I'm going home," Sara announced icily after Grissom had left.
Nick grabbed her arm to stop her, forcing her to look at him. He swallowed hard; hating the stony glare she was giving him.
"Look Sara, can we talk about this?" He asked in a pleading tone. "I'll come by your place after wor..."
"I'm exhausted," She lied, cutting him off, "I'm just gonna crash."
And with that, she freed herself from his grasp and walked to her car. She turned on the ignition and started her journey home; to a bed that held nothing for her than coldness and insomnia.
~*~*~*~*~
It was a miracle that Warrick received no speeding tickets as his car flashed along the road. Now he hurried on foot down the small corridor to the single door, completing his journey. Quickly, he rapped on the door. His anxious anticipation gripped him tightly.
He knew that she was checking who it was through the peephole, before he heard the slid of the locks being undone. The door opened to reveal the figure behind it.
She was dressed in pj bottoms and a grey tank top, her hair still ruffled from restless sleep and her face exhausted. But that wasn't what worried him. The fear and vulnerability that clung to her eyes along with unshed tears was what made Warrick concerned. She stepped aside letting him enter, then quickly re-bolted the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you..." She began but he cut her off.
"It doesn't matter," He assured, his voice revealing his concern along with his look. "Jenny what's wrong? Is everything ok? Is Melissa alright?"
"She fine," Jenny chocked back a tear, "It's just...just..."
She felt her strength fail her and her knees buckle underneath her. Warrick caught her in his strong arms, pulling her into a secure embrace as she cried into his chest. He tried to sooth her as he led her the couch, sitting them both down.
"It's ok Jen," He promised softly. "Everything's ok."
He continued to hold her close to him, trying to fight away her fears by his embrace. After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiping her eyes and running a hand through her hair.
"God, I'm sorry Warrick," She apologised sheepishly.
"It's ok. Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"
"It's so stupid..." She mumbled turning away.
"It's not if it's got you worked up like this," He stated, squeezing her arm gently.
She turned back and stared into his understanding eyes.
"I had that dream again Warrick. Oh god," She paused to fight away another rush of tears. "It starts like the one when my dad dies, except I run outside to him after he's stabbed. Then suddenly he wakes up and takes my hand, but I'm no longer 12, I'm like I am now. He leads me to my old house and points to a window. I look in and see Ethan about to drink the poisoned bourbon....I'm screaming, god I scream, but he doesn't hear me and I'm forced to watch him die. Then my father whispers to me: 'You couldn't save me. You couldn't him. How do you expect to save her?' But it's not his voice, it's Julian's and I turn around to see him standing over Melissa's cot with a knife..."
Her voice trailed off as her tears managed to break free. Warrick wrapped his arm around her, wiping away her tears with his hand.
"Shhhh. It's alright Jen. Julian can't ever hurt you ok. And I'm never going to let anything happen to you or Melissa, I promise," He reassured her.
She wiped her face and let out a forced chuckle.
"God I'm being so stupid. And I've got you all wet."
"It's really ok. I've told you before if you need me then I'll be there. Anyway, you needed someone to cheer you up. You don't look quite so beautiful with blotchy eyes."
She chuckled lightly, which was the sweetest sound to Warrick's ears. They held each other's gaze, mesmerised as something passed between them. As much as he denied it to everyone, and even himself, he'd fallen completely in love with her. He loved her more then anything else and cared for Melissa as if she was his own daughter. But Jenny Sinclair's heart still belonged to her husband; the pain of his death still killed her softly inside.
He broke the gaze before he did something he'd regret. She failed to stifle a yawn and he smiled.
"You need to get some sleep," He pointed out.
"I don't think I can," She admitted quietly. "I'm scared I'll have that nightmare again if I do and I can't take any sleeping tablets because of Melissa."
"Ok, how about we watch a film for a bit?" He suggested.
"Sure," She nodded.
"What do you want to what?"
"Mmmm.....how about Breakfast At Tiffany's?"
"How many times have you seen that film?" He teased.
She laughed, "So many times I've lost count. I used to watch it constantly when I was pregnant and now if I sing Melissa 'Moon River' she's out like a light."
He laughed as well, "Breakfast At Tiff's it is."
He got off the couch, turned on the TV and slid the DVD into the player. He settled back down on the couch beside her. Jenny curled up next to him with her head resting on his shoulder, and he wrapped a protective arm around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
It didn't take long for her tiredness to catch up with her. Her eyelids drooped as she fell asleep, ending up with her head resting comfortably on Warrick's lap. He smiled at the gorgeous woman's sleeping form. He began to reluctantly stand up- so he could carry her into her room- but a hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. He looked down at Jenny, who still had her eyes tightly clasped shut.
"Please don't leave me," She pleaded semiconsciously, her voice so vulnerable.
"I'm not going anywhere," He assured her softly, stroking her hair tenderly.
She let go and shifted slightly in her sleep. Warrick looked around and spotted a throw rug on the other seat. Careful not to wake her, he leaned over, clasping it in his fingertips, then gently covering her body with it.
He allowed himself the guilty pleasure of watching her sleep, her face peaceful in her deep slumber. Keeping an arm around her, he lent down and kissed her softly on the forehead. The action caused the corners of her lips to turn upwards in a small smile making his heart soar. He continued to watch over her until sleep claimed him as well.
~*~*~*~*~
Grissom waited for Nick outside the doors leading to the morgue. He saw Nick's troubled face, but before he could ask what was wrong, the younger CSI had brushed past him through the doors. Gris followed him to be greeted by Portia Hrubeck's naked body lying on the slab, covered by a sheet.
He gazed sadly at her, his guilt clouding his mind again. Gris broke his gaze and instead fixed it on Al Robbins.
"What can you tell us?" Grissom asked, deciding to cut straight to the chase. "Is it the same as the other victims?"
Al gave a curt nod, "Miss Hrubeck had 5 litres of water in her lungs, a blue tint around her mouth from loss of oxygen and bruising on the back of her neck from when she was held under. Also, like the other victims, she's got bruising round her wrists from the restraint he kept her in and she was starved."
He pointed to the bruising as he talked so they could see.
"Was she raped?" Nick asked the question Grissom couldn't bring himself to do.
"Yes, but this is the only way she differs from the others. He raped her twice."
"Twice," Grissom repeated sickened.
Once again Al nodded.
"I've collected a semen sample like before," He informed them, "But we already know that he's not on the data base."
"Anything else?" Grissom pleaded more then asked.
Al shook his head grimly; "I wish there was Gil, but there isn't. He scrapped under her nails, washed her hair and skin, even scrapped her inside her nose. I can't give you something I don't have."
Grissom felt like he was sinking again.
"Nick give the semen sample to Greg. Then you can go home," He ordered.
Before anyone else could speak, he turned around and walked out. Away from Portia's haunting figure - reminding him that he'd fail someone else yet again.
~*~*~*~*~
He sat in his office staring in frustration at the case files in front of him. Grissom looked at each victim in turn: First, Faith Water- prostitute, then Leyna Yashin- prostitute, Joanna Holm- stripper, and now Portia Hrubeck- stripper.
4 women. 4 white dresses. 4 identical abductions and deaths. 4 secondary crime scenes. And not a single clue or lead closer to their killer.
Gris let out a heavy sigh and shoved the pictures back into their folders. He yanked opened his desk draw and pulled out the small black box that lay inside. Sitting perfectly still, he turned it in his hands and placed it down on his desk. He stared at it. It had been in his draw for a while now. 3 weeks to be exact. 3 weeks since he'd been thinking about it, then this caught his eye like some sort of sign. Now all he needed was the perfect moment to give it to her. But now was not the time. It never was the time.
He placed it away, hitting the lights off as he left the deserted labs and started the dreaded journey he'd put off as long as he could from making. He paused under the light outside his front door. Moments like these pass so slowly with the grim knowledge of what came next, that it began to slowly tear a man's sole apart.
'The nature of bad news infects the teller,' He remembered the Shakespeare quote bleakly.
He turned the key in the lock and walked in. She sat on the couch, staring at the door, waiting apprehensively for his return. For the news she knew she didn't want, but had to hear. One look at his face confirmed her fears. That night the peaceful townhouse was filled with Catherine's sobs of anguish and Grissom's whispers of soothing words, as he held her securely in his arms, trying to rid her of her sorrow.
A/N: What do you think? I'm in for a very busy and boring weekend this week, so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. :o)
A/N: Hey. I thought I'd be nice and update quickly again. I've got a really important science test next week so I have to study for that and also I've got course work, so the next chapter may take a little longer. Sorry. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: The Madhatter, PITAchic, MissyJane, Galxychld, pdhtgal, cRaZyPiXiE, A Bloom and ArodLoverus2001. Thank you so much and please keep them coming. Well on with the plot; the whole gang's in this chapter. R&R and ENJOY!!! - Bex
Warrick was enjoying being away from work and for once sleeping the night hours like normal people. But his peaceful sleep was disturbed by the phone blaring into life. He shifted stiffly as he rose, wiping his blurred eyes with his hand and fumbling with his other hand for the irritating phone.
"Hello?" He answered groggily.
"Warrick?"
The fear in the familiar voice on the other end made his systems jolt into fully alert.
"Hey, is everything ok?" He asked concerned.
"Can...can you come over?" The voice pleaded.
"Sure. I'll be there in less then 15 minutes," He promised, "Ok?"
"Ok."
He hung up the phone and hurriedly pulled on some clothes, driven by the worry in his heart.
~*~*~*~*~
Sara hated it when they couldn't solve a case. It raged her that someone had gotten away with, so far, four murders; this time leaving two kids orphans. But it was her hatred for the preps that drove her and forced her to do her best. Only her best was ever good enough. But right now she was grateful that Gris had told her that she could go.
She continued the walk from the locker room to the lab where Nick was working on the dress. A dress free from evidence she bet.
She let out a sigh. She didn't know what was up with him lately. He'd been a bit distant and cut off, always avoiding her eye when he repeated his lame reassurance when she asked what was wrong. At first she thought it might be the case, but now she wasn't so sure. She had tried to talk to Warrick to see if he knew anything, but he'd unconvincingly denied knowing anything. Sara had known them both long enough to know that something was up.
'Damn you Hank for screwing up my relationship radar,' She cursed him silently.
She paused at the door, watching Nick as he finished analysing the dress, totally oblivious to her presences. Quietly, she walked up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist.
"Hey cowboy," She whispered softly, planting a kiss on his neck.
"Hey."
Did she imagine it or did he stiffen uncomfortably when he realised that it was her?
'It was probably your mind playing tricks on you,' a voice hissed. 'Get a grip Sidle.'
"Found anything?"
"Nope," He replied blankly.
Just like every dress before.
"Well Gris is letting me go early, so I can always warm up the bed for you," She told him playfully.
"Yeah," was his simple reply, sliding out of her arms and backing away.
She couldn't suppress her sigh of frustration even if she wanted to. He hadn't once yet looked straight at her, let alone made eye contact.
"Nick, what's going on?" She demanded, any ideas of tact flying out the window.
"I don't know wha..."
"Bullshit Nick," She cut across annoyed at him for keeping her at arm's length. "You've been distant and avoiding me. And you're awkward when I'm around. Don't think I haven't noticed; I'm a level 3 for a reason. So tell me what the hell's going on?"
Nick shuffled uncomfortably, fixing his eyes on the floor and away from her questioning glare. He'd out this off as long as he could, worried about how she might react. Worried that she would be upset like she was now.
"You remember Michelle Evans?" He began.
"Yeah," Sara replied. How could she forget her? She was one of Nick's exs. Not only that, but they had also been engaged once. She swallowed; "What about her?"
"She's coming to Las Vegas."
"When?"
He now dared to slowly meet her gaze.
"Tomorrow."
There was a pause as he waited for Sara's reaction.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me before?" She shouted at him.
"Because...I don't know how you'd react. I didn't want you getting pissed off with me," He stated, "Like you are now."
"How'd you expect me to react? I'm pissed cos you didn't tell me before. Where you ever gonna tell me?"
He stayed silent, dropping his gaze again, ashamed at causing this fight, at not telling her before.
"Great!" She muttered angrily, turning away from him. "This is just perfect!" She spun back, "Why the hell did you even have the need to keep this from me?"
"Because..." He stuttered, all the reasons he had before now sounded very stupid. "Because...I'm an idiot ok. I shouldn't have done it. She's just a friend now Sara, but I was scared that you would take it badly. I know it was stupid of me. That's the only reason I swear."
"Yeah right," She muttered bitterly.
Nick didn't like the look on her face. A look he'd seen before when she talked about a man they both despised.
"Sara, we're just friends. Nothing else is going on," He promised, but the look remained. It both upset and angered him to see her looking at him like that. "Don't you dare start comparing me to Hank. I'm not him. I'm nothing like him. Sara you know I wouldn't do anyth..."
"Nick?"
Grissom's voice travelled down the corridor, cutting Nick off in mid sentence. It was followed a few seconds later by the owner. He walked in, but stopped when he saw the faces mixed with pain and anger.
"Am I interrupting something?" He asked cautiously.
Nick was about to answer, but Sara got there first.
"No," She responded coolly.
Grissom had a feeling that her tone was directed more at Nick then himself. It was obvious that they'd been fighting, a serious argument at that, but he didn't know what about. Two of his CSIs falling out was the last thing he needed right now.
'But Nick and Sara will sort it out,' He assured himself. 'They always do.'
He decided to ignore the thick tension in the room and get to his point.
"Found anything Nick?" He asked, a small gleam of hope staining his voice.
"No. Sorry Gris," He answered, but his tone lacked any sympathy.
Gris sorely wanted to have a go at them for letting their personal lives effect their professional, but he knew it was the last thing any of them needed.
"Well, Al's finished the autopsy," Grissom informed him.
"Ok, I'll meet you there in a moment," Nick replied, but his eyes remained on Sara, who didn't look back.
"Ok," Grissom said and took his cue to leave.
"I'm going home," Sara announced icily after Grissom had left.
Nick grabbed her arm to stop her, forcing her to look at him. He swallowed hard; hating the stony glare she was giving him.
"Look Sara, can we talk about this?" He asked in a pleading tone. "I'll come by your place after wor..."
"I'm exhausted," She lied, cutting him off, "I'm just gonna crash."
And with that, she freed herself from his grasp and walked to her car. She turned on the ignition and started her journey home; to a bed that held nothing for her than coldness and insomnia.
~*~*~*~*~
It was a miracle that Warrick received no speeding tickets as his car flashed along the road. Now he hurried on foot down the small corridor to the single door, completing his journey. Quickly, he rapped on the door. His anxious anticipation gripped him tightly.
He knew that she was checking who it was through the peephole, before he heard the slid of the locks being undone. The door opened to reveal the figure behind it.
She was dressed in pj bottoms and a grey tank top, her hair still ruffled from restless sleep and her face exhausted. But that wasn't what worried him. The fear and vulnerability that clung to her eyes along with unshed tears was what made Warrick concerned. She stepped aside letting him enter, then quickly re-bolted the door.
"I'm sorry for waking you..." She began but he cut her off.
"It doesn't matter," He assured, his voice revealing his concern along with his look. "Jenny what's wrong? Is everything ok? Is Melissa alright?"
"She fine," Jenny chocked back a tear, "It's just...just..."
She felt her strength fail her and her knees buckle underneath her. Warrick caught her in his strong arms, pulling her into a secure embrace as she cried into his chest. He tried to sooth her as he led her the couch, sitting them both down.
"It's ok Jen," He promised softly. "Everything's ok."
He continued to hold her close to him, trying to fight away her fears by his embrace. After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiping her eyes and running a hand through her hair.
"God, I'm sorry Warrick," She apologised sheepishly.
"It's ok. Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"
"It's so stupid..." She mumbled turning away.
"It's not if it's got you worked up like this," He stated, squeezing her arm gently.
She turned back and stared into his understanding eyes.
"I had that dream again Warrick. Oh god," She paused to fight away another rush of tears. "It starts like the one when my dad dies, except I run outside to him after he's stabbed. Then suddenly he wakes up and takes my hand, but I'm no longer 12, I'm like I am now. He leads me to my old house and points to a window. I look in and see Ethan about to drink the poisoned bourbon....I'm screaming, god I scream, but he doesn't hear me and I'm forced to watch him die. Then my father whispers to me: 'You couldn't save me. You couldn't him. How do you expect to save her?' But it's not his voice, it's Julian's and I turn around to see him standing over Melissa's cot with a knife..."
Her voice trailed off as her tears managed to break free. Warrick wrapped his arm around her, wiping away her tears with his hand.
"Shhhh. It's alright Jen. Julian can't ever hurt you ok. And I'm never going to let anything happen to you or Melissa, I promise," He reassured her.
She wiped her face and let out a forced chuckle.
"God I'm being so stupid. And I've got you all wet."
"It's really ok. I've told you before if you need me then I'll be there. Anyway, you needed someone to cheer you up. You don't look quite so beautiful with blotchy eyes."
She chuckled lightly, which was the sweetest sound to Warrick's ears. They held each other's gaze, mesmerised as something passed between them. As much as he denied it to everyone, and even himself, he'd fallen completely in love with her. He loved her more then anything else and cared for Melissa as if she was his own daughter. But Jenny Sinclair's heart still belonged to her husband; the pain of his death still killed her softly inside.
He broke the gaze before he did something he'd regret. She failed to stifle a yawn and he smiled.
"You need to get some sleep," He pointed out.
"I don't think I can," She admitted quietly. "I'm scared I'll have that nightmare again if I do and I can't take any sleeping tablets because of Melissa."
"Ok, how about we watch a film for a bit?" He suggested.
"Sure," She nodded.
"What do you want to what?"
"Mmmm.....how about Breakfast At Tiffany's?"
"How many times have you seen that film?" He teased.
She laughed, "So many times I've lost count. I used to watch it constantly when I was pregnant and now if I sing Melissa 'Moon River' she's out like a light."
He laughed as well, "Breakfast At Tiff's it is."
He got off the couch, turned on the TV and slid the DVD into the player. He settled back down on the couch beside her. Jenny curled up next to him with her head resting on his shoulder, and he wrapped a protective arm around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
It didn't take long for her tiredness to catch up with her. Her eyelids drooped as she fell asleep, ending up with her head resting comfortably on Warrick's lap. He smiled at the gorgeous woman's sleeping form. He began to reluctantly stand up- so he could carry her into her room- but a hand grasped his wrist, stopping him. He looked down at Jenny, who still had her eyes tightly clasped shut.
"Please don't leave me," She pleaded semiconsciously, her voice so vulnerable.
"I'm not going anywhere," He assured her softly, stroking her hair tenderly.
She let go and shifted slightly in her sleep. Warrick looked around and spotted a throw rug on the other seat. Careful not to wake her, he leaned over, clasping it in his fingertips, then gently covering her body with it.
He allowed himself the guilty pleasure of watching her sleep, her face peaceful in her deep slumber. Keeping an arm around her, he lent down and kissed her softly on the forehead. The action caused the corners of her lips to turn upwards in a small smile making his heart soar. He continued to watch over her until sleep claimed him as well.
~*~*~*~*~
Grissom waited for Nick outside the doors leading to the morgue. He saw Nick's troubled face, but before he could ask what was wrong, the younger CSI had brushed past him through the doors. Gris followed him to be greeted by Portia Hrubeck's naked body lying on the slab, covered by a sheet.
He gazed sadly at her, his guilt clouding his mind again. Gris broke his gaze and instead fixed it on Al Robbins.
"What can you tell us?" Grissom asked, deciding to cut straight to the chase. "Is it the same as the other victims?"
Al gave a curt nod, "Miss Hrubeck had 5 litres of water in her lungs, a blue tint around her mouth from loss of oxygen and bruising on the back of her neck from when she was held under. Also, like the other victims, she's got bruising round her wrists from the restraint he kept her in and she was starved."
He pointed to the bruising as he talked so they could see.
"Was she raped?" Nick asked the question Grissom couldn't bring himself to do.
"Yes, but this is the only way she differs from the others. He raped her twice."
"Twice," Grissom repeated sickened.
Once again Al nodded.
"I've collected a semen sample like before," He informed them, "But we already know that he's not on the data base."
"Anything else?" Grissom pleaded more then asked.
Al shook his head grimly; "I wish there was Gil, but there isn't. He scrapped under her nails, washed her hair and skin, even scrapped her inside her nose. I can't give you something I don't have."
Grissom felt like he was sinking again.
"Nick give the semen sample to Greg. Then you can go home," He ordered.
Before anyone else could speak, he turned around and walked out. Away from Portia's haunting figure - reminding him that he'd fail someone else yet again.
~*~*~*~*~
He sat in his office staring in frustration at the case files in front of him. Grissom looked at each victim in turn: First, Faith Water- prostitute, then Leyna Yashin- prostitute, Joanna Holm- stripper, and now Portia Hrubeck- stripper.
4 women. 4 white dresses. 4 identical abductions and deaths. 4 secondary crime scenes. And not a single clue or lead closer to their killer.
Gris let out a heavy sigh and shoved the pictures back into their folders. He yanked opened his desk draw and pulled out the small black box that lay inside. Sitting perfectly still, he turned it in his hands and placed it down on his desk. He stared at it. It had been in his draw for a while now. 3 weeks to be exact. 3 weeks since he'd been thinking about it, then this caught his eye like some sort of sign. Now all he needed was the perfect moment to give it to her. But now was not the time. It never was the time.
He placed it away, hitting the lights off as he left the deserted labs and started the dreaded journey he'd put off as long as he could from making. He paused under the light outside his front door. Moments like these pass so slowly with the grim knowledge of what came next, that it began to slowly tear a man's sole apart.
'The nature of bad news infects the teller,' He remembered the Shakespeare quote bleakly.
He turned the key in the lock and walked in. She sat on the couch, staring at the door, waiting apprehensively for his return. For the news she knew she didn't want, but had to hear. One look at his face confirmed her fears. That night the peaceful townhouse was filled with Catherine's sobs of anguish and Grissom's whispers of soothing words, as he held her securely in his arms, trying to rid her of her sorrow.
A/N: What do you think? I'm in for a very busy and boring weekend this week, so please leave a review and give me something to smile about. :o)