Author's Note: Okay, Chapter 6 is Brass vs. Grissom (interaction), 3rd person with thoughts mixed in. As always, please R&R.

Important: Sentences in italics are thoughts.

What Lies Beneath, pt 6

Hurricane Brass rapidly approached the office of one, Gil Grissom. Currently a Category 5, he blew into town before any evacuation procedures could be implemented. All residents were thoroughly surprised.

"Jim…" Grissom looked up sharply from his paperwork.

Brass tempered both his expression and his voice. "Don't you say a word Gil, you listen to me right now. Listen well."

Grissom adjusted his glasses, lowering them down his nose a bit to give him the 'authoritative scientist' look. "I'm listening."

"I just came from talking to Sara," Brass started, watching the shadow of pain the mention of her name brought him. "What you did was just plain wrong. So she snapped at you! You know she's upset, that she has been upset since the lab blew up. She feels vulnerable and alone and she thinks that working is the only thing she can do to make a difference around here. I know that you tried to show your concern but as soon as it went bad, as soon as there was a misunderstanding, you bottled up again. And this time, when you bottled up, you killed her dammit. You might as well have pulled the trigger!" He slammed his hand down on Grissom's desk, sending papers (along with himself) flying over the edge.

Brass could see his friend's wheels turning. He could see the light bulb flickering to life over his head.

"You told her that if she could take care of herself, she should, so that you wouldn't have to. Dammit Grissom, she needs you to take care of her, now more than ever, and you've just told her that her need is her weakness! She needs you. Ultimately, you're the only person she would truly let in. I would care for her till the day I died, but I would never be The Great Grissom." He gesticulated madly, grimacing. "Now all she can think about is that her Grissom doesn't want to take care of her. Her Great Grissom knows she needs help and he is cold, disgusted by that need."

The carefully maintained mask had shattered through the course of the monologue. Brass wore the rage of the bull, his verbal ferocity punctuated by stamping of feet and pounding of fists. Grissom was overshadowed by a great cloud. He wore the dark element like a cloak around his shoulders, the shocking weight of Brass's words pinning him down.

I'm not cold. If I was cold, it wouldn't hurt this bad, would it? "I'm only disgusted by myself Jim. You know that. You know how I work, obviously." Grissom snorted, surprised that this had gone so far. He felt almost betrayed knowing that Sara had turned Brass, one of his oldest friends, against him. He wanted to stab at him, knowing that Brass had challenged him despite their mutual understanding of the situation.

Brass sat down heavily in the spare chair, his rage gone, replaced by regretful sadness. The wooden chair creaked heavily as he forced it to support him fully. "Yeah Gil, I know how you work. That's why, for your sake and hers, I had to intervene. You are sick with yourself. You think you broke it off for her good, 'cause you keep thinking that she deserves better, but you better wise up soon. You better straighten up or she'll leave you forever. Leave everyone and everything, for that matter. Right now it's you or nothing and I do mean nothing. I don't think you really understand that."

Grissom looked up bleakly, idly toying with his Newton's cradle, now uncovered by Brass's rampage. "Understand what? That Sara would contemplate death because, without me, she feels she has nothing left? It's unthinkable. It's beyond comprehension. What could I possibly… What could she see in me?" His quizzical expression proved that he actually didn't know.

Brass leaned forward, frustrated. "Why do you bother analyzing? What will that get you? You two have been flirting and dancing around for years. Years! Just… get it over with dammit, and let's move on!" Brass shook his head slowly and lowered his voice back to normal. "Let's review. Boy meets girl. Boy clams up, runs away. Girl chases after, giving up everything for Boy. Boy acts like an ass, Girl forgives. How much is it gonna take to get you two to the happily-ever-after part of the story?" One corner of his mouth quirked up to lighten the blow. Please Griss, help me out here. All it takes is some optimism, some selfless spontaneity on your part…

"At this point… a lot." A heavy silence ensued, punctuated by the tick-tick-tick of the Newton's spheres. "I've really messed this up, haven't I?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely. Thing is, you're a scientist. You analyze. You can't understand that the variables are different, they don't add up. In life… nothing really adds up. In life, you can get something for nothing. It's called love. That's the equation you can never solve predictably or repeat-ably. There is no structured experiment; there is no control group, not even a basis for comparison."

Grissom set the cradle in motion again. "Jim… I love her. I know it."

A whole spectrum of emotions ran past Brass's face, though he settled on frustration. "Then what's the problem?"

"Me." The frustration was a good choice. "Look at me. I'm a middle-aged man, years her senior. I'm a graying scientist with no life. My best friends are bugs. I'm—"

"You're wallowing in self-pity is what you are. You think she doesn't know all that stuff? She knows! Miraculously, she still loves you on top of all that. What more could you possibly ask of her? While you're in here with your self-pity, she's up to her neck in desperation. Now you tell me. What is the right thing to do?" Brass waved off Grissom's attempt to explain.

"No, not right now, later, after you've thought on it a while." He paused. "In fact, tell her. When you figure out the right thing, do it and you'll soon know if it's right or not."

Grissom made one last soft jab at his friend, honestly curious about the source of his expertise. "Jim… If you're so wise about relationships, then uh, how did your marriage…?" He trailed off. What am I supposed to say? How did your marriage shatter in a thousand pieces? How did your marriage implode, leaving you all the way across the continent from your wife and child?

"Oh, how'd it go down the drain? It was a long spiral and, when I thought I'd found 'the right thing to do', I found out it was wrong. Very wrong. Where do you think I got all this personal insight from, my friend?" He shifted in the chair nervously, watching the silver spheres endlessly impact each other. "Only one who's been through that hell can help someone else around it. Don't lose Sara like I lost my wife and daughter. Know that she is worth fighting the world for. I know you fear losing yourself but that's part of love, the combining of two souls. You can't combine if you won't give any part of yourself up to the mixture. She's feeling that aching hole where you should be."

Piercing blue eyes settled on his brown. "The same aching hole you feel where your wife and Ellie should be?"

Oh God, Gil, that hurt. Brass cleared his throat and steadied his voice, ignoring the sharp pang around his heart. "Yes. I feel it everyday. Don't you dare force that pain on her."

The Newton's cradle stopped suddenly, the inertia no longer enough to force the opposite sphere into motion. The resulting stillness filled with conflicting emotions. The air was thick with hopes and fears.

After a minute or so, the detective stood up and straightened his jacket, taking ginger steps towards the door. "I'll leave you to think. You've got all shift. I'll give you the same ultimatum you gave her. By 7 AM you have an answer or, so help me, I'll take her away from you so that she doesn't have to make that choice herself."

No! You can't take her from me!!! His grip on the arms of his chair tightened till his knuckles turned white. "Ok. Thank you, Jim. Thank you for your concern and your… candor."

"Hey, don't mention it. I'm from Jersey, we can be brutal sometimes." And so can you Gil, when threatened.

With that he was gone, closing the door gently behind him and leaving his best friend to his demons. Both of them felt a twinge of loss, knowing their friendship had been knocked down a few notches by their mutual jabs.

Brass walked back past Investigation Room 3. Sara was no longer there and neither were the bags of evidence. He checked the room, but she left no note. Taking this as a sign that she didn't want any more company, he went back to his car and climbed inside.

The crestfallen detective roughly turned the key, snatching the car into gear and tearing off, pawing at the tears in the corners of his eye. Despite his excellent investigative skills, he couldn't tell how this case would turn out, and that scared him. The last time he'd felt like this was… when Ellie… He stuffed down the panic and pain-filled memory.

One way, he would lose his best friend. The other way, he would lose the girl he'd cared for. Brass cursed through gritted teeth, weaving through traffic to respond to a call.

Dammit. Either way, I lose. I always do.

TBC…

Author's Note: Hmmm… ::checks notebook:: Yes, according to my systems analysis notebook, we are right on schedule! Check back for Chappy 7 and leave me reviews pleez :) Chapter 7 is like intermission. We're halfway there!