By: phantombabe
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own any of the characters of CSI. No matter how much I wish I owned Warrick Brown… oops! Did I just say that? ssshhh don't tell nobody.
Rating: PG (for some violence and language)
Comments: I'm taking a pole on everyone's favorite CSI show. Example: CSI: Miami, CSI: New York etc. Let me know. Luv to all my fans.
Roses are Red
"Greg do you have those saliva results I asked you for?" Grissom asked as he came in the room like he always does. His glasses on, staring down at some unknown paper that must be really interesting, because he doesn't even look up.
"Yeah there right here." Greg rolled his chair over to the Xerox printer on the opposite counter.
"It's a definite match to Michael Edwards's DNA." "Thanks Greg. Now it's time to go put that son-of-bitch in jail for pedophilia. I owe you one." Grissom said as he started to walk out of the room. Greg suddenly jumped out of his chair.
"Yeah about that. Do you think I could get next week off?" Greg winked at the rather attractive woman in the next lab.
"I don't know Greg. I mean, you're the best we've got and no one really gets along with the other guy." Grissom said with a kind of a jerk of his head toward a man in the other lab that appeared to be examining the hairs in his nose with one of the magnifying glasses and a mirror.
"I know but it'll only be three days. What could possibly go wrong in three days?"
Warrick Brownwas a CSI level three. He had spent his whole career finding bodies. He would have never dreamed that someone would be trying to find his.
The last thing he could remember was putting his bag in his car and someone coming up behind him and hitting him over the head, rendering him unconscious. Then the next thing he knew, he was in (or appeared to be in) an old abandoned warehouse. The first thing he noticed was his head hurt… a lot. The next thing he noticed was a rather large cut on his upper forearm. The only good thing was it had already closed up.
He tried to move his arms to stand up but felt that they were tied with some type of crude rope, around a pole. He blinked his eyes trying to clear them, so that he could see where exactly he was. It seemed that no matter how many times he blinked them he couldn't clear them. The blow he received must havegiven him a concussion. After trying that for about five minutes, he gave up. He tried twisting he arms, attempting to break free from the bonds. All he achieved from that was warm liquid flowing down his wrists. Wonderful. He thought. If whoever put me down here doesn't kill me, infection will. Even though he couldn't see, he could smell, and this place smelled like shit.
'Come on Grissom. Get me out of this hellhole.'
"Come on people! He's been gone for 48 hours. There's no telling what's happened to him." Grissom yelled while wondering through the halls checking on everyone. Making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to. Itwas hard enough, since Greg would be gone until tomorrow.
48 hours ago he had received a letter on his desk, with a red rose, it was written in Warrick's blood saying…
Grissom,
Let my brother, Michael Edwards, go free and you may see your CSI again. You have exactly 52 hours to return my brother, unharmed, or I will bleed him out. I'm sure you already know which one I have, because this letter is written in his blood. Trust me, if you attempt a rescue, I will kill him. Or if you attempt to arrest me, I will send you his head in a box. I expect you to drop my brother off at St. Johns airport and for you to buy him a ticket to wherever he wants to go. If everything goes according to plan, I will call you with the location of your CSI.
Trust me Grissom. I'm not the type of person you want to cross.
Grissom had the blood tested, and sure enough, it was Warrick's blood. He had been working for two days straight trying to find another way to get Warrick out of there, without having to let that monster out of jail. So far he hadn't found anything. And they only had 4 hours left. "Grissom we're out of time. We have to take Michael Edwards to the airport now or we won't make it." Said Sara walking up to Grissom. She had loved Warrick ever since she had first laid eyes on him. But she had never had the courage to tell him. The whole time she kept thinking to herself… 'God, please let him be alright. I couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to him.'
"Alright. Fine. Go get him." Grissom said walking to his office to get his coat.
Warrick didn't know how long he had been there. All he knew was it felt like forever. He was still trying to twist his hands out of the ropes. Just when he had almost gotten one of his bloody hands free he heard a door slam.
"Well, well, well. You're a feisty one aren't you?" Said a man who seemed to be directly in front of him. Or as far as Warrick could tell because his vision had only begun to clear.
"Where am I?" He asked.
"Shut-up! I'm the one who's asking thequestions here." The man said as he kicked Warrick violently in the ribs.
Warrick couldn't prevent a cry of pain from escaping his lips, as he felt at least three of his ribs break.
The man watched in delight as the slightly smaller man hunched over to one side. But his joy was short lived because as soon as the man sat up, he spat blood onto his brand new white silk shirt.
"Oh you're gonna pay for that you punk!" He said as he pulled out a gun from behind his back.
All Warrick felt was a sharp burning pain in his left shoulder before he fell unconscious…again.
"I still think that this is a bad idea." Said Grissom as he stared straight out through the front of Sara's windshield.
"We had no other choice Grissom. He has Warrick. As soon as we get him back we can go after Michael and his brother." Sara said trying to encourage her partner that they had done the right thing.
"I still can't help thinking that maybe there was another way." "If there was, I'm sure you would have thought of it." Sara said with a small smile toward Grissom.
"We're here." She said.
Grissom got out of the car, trying to keep his poker face on even though he was scared to death. When he had first met Warrick, he had thought that he was just an arrogant punk who didn't have a clue what he was doing. But once he had gotten to know Warrick, he realized that he was really a very self-less person who was extraordinarily good at what he did. And he had come to think of Warrick as a, dare he say, friend.
He glanced over to Sara. "Show time."
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