Privacy by SLynn

Disclaimer: It's all mine, because yeah, this is what I'd do with my free time if I actually owned these characters.

Chapter 30: Point of View

"It all happened after Jensen left…"

With Nick's help Greg removed the evidence from their victim's mouth. The whole thing had caught him off guard. The body, fall or not, still looked posed to him. That coupled with the obvious strangulation and now this, Greg couldn't but be reminded of Fenton.

"Damn it," Nick muttered, looking down at his now dying flashlight. "Batteries are wasted."

"Take mine," Greg offered, switching with him, "I'll get some out of the truck."

"You sure?"

"It's no problem. I figure I owe you that much for the stunt with Amy earlier."

Nick laughed and nodded before reminding him to be careful as he headed back up the hill.

"Yes mom," Greg called back down good naturedly, relieved to be laughing off some of the tension.

As he fumbled to find the extra batteries he knew were kept in the SUVs, a set of headlights lit the scene. Greg, aware that they were without a police escort, paused long enough to get a good look at the car. Recognizing it as a detective's, he turned his back and continued looking for what he needed.

He heard the footsteps approaching but again thought nothing of it. Of course the detective assigned was going to come up to him and start asking questions. It was nothing new. Greg's reception however was new.

As he turned to greet them, whoever they might be, he was met with a fierce slap across his mouth. The surprise of it alone took him back a step. He could taste blood in his mouth, they'd hit him that hard.

Before he could ask any questions he looked up to see Diane Ortega, gun drawn, pointed at him. She looked like hell. Her eye was swollen and her lip was bruised.

"Have to make this look real," she said in a strangely calm voice. "Like I fought back some."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your gun," she said ignoring his question, "Hand it to me. By the barrel, slowly."

Greg hesitated but only until she cocked her own weapon. As slowly as he could he undid his service revolver and as instructed handed it over.

"Good, you can listen," she said and then laughed abruptly, "I still can't believe they let you come back. After everything you've done and everything said they let you have your job back. You must have dirt on Ecklie. Something good I bet."

Greg said nothing, just took it in. He watched as she put her own gun down and kicked it under the SUV, pointing his own at him now instead.

"Well, that will change after tonight."

She was less then six feet from him. He knew if he caught her off guard he might have a chance, but he needed her to be distracted first.

Just as he thought it, a distraction was provided.

"Sanders, did you get lost?"

Nick was coming up after him. He'd been gone too long to still be searching for batteries. Greg missed his moment though; he'd looked over just as Ortega had. They'd both been taken by surprise.

Nick made it to the top and saw them both only as hazy outlines. The headlights to Ortega's vehicle were still on blinding him to the fact that she had a gun pointed at Greg.

Feeling time slip away from him, Greg knew he had to do something. Before he could move he watched as Nick brought up his hand, shielding his eyes for a better view.

"Greg?" he heard him say, but it sounded distant.

"Hey Stokes," Ortega called out, looking once at Greg with an odd smile, before turning towards him. "I've got something for you."

Greg dug in his heals and lunged towards her but not soon enough. He heard the gun go off but didn't see the bullets impact his friend. The force of his momentum knocked them both to the ground and Greg struggled to get his hands around hers. To keep the gun pointed away from them both.

Ortega was not a big woman, but she was athletic. She had strength and adrenaline and even though Greg had both the advantages of height and weight, she fought hard. He was on top of her, straddling her, still trying to pry the guns out of her hands when he heard a familiar voice calling out for him to freeze.

Greg did so instinctively and was floored when Ortega, who had been moments ago using every curse word known, began to cry. She wept and crawled out from under him, running to Jensen who looked the worst of the three. He had no idea what he was walking in on.

"Thank God," she kept saying over and over.

Greg ignored her, remembered the gun shot. Remembering that Nick was bleeding somewhere in need of help. He turned to go where he'd seen him last when he heard that all too familiar click.

"Sanders," Jensen warned, "I said freeze."

Twice in one night he had a gun leveled at him.

"Eric, Nick's been shot. She shot him. You've got…"

"He was trying to help me," Ortega cut in, loud and persistent. "You shot him. I watched you. It was your gun."

"Call for an ambulance," Greg yelled as loud as he could over her voice.

"Both of you stop," Jensen demanded, loud and authoritative like he'd been trained.

Ignoring Ortega for the moment he concentrated on Greg. Saw real worry causing him to look once around. Stokes couldn't be seen, but he knew the man better then to believe he'd leave a scene early. He quickly picked up his radio and got dispatch to send additional forces and paramedics.

Ortega was still crying, although calmer now. Jensen asked her to wait by the car before he approached Greg. He was holstering his gun as he neared him but getting out his handcuffs.

"Don't do it," Greg said, shaking his head.

"I've got too after what I saw."

Jensen was already turning him around and putting them on and Greg just continued to shake his head.

"I'm just putting you in custody," he continued, "I'm not arresting you."

Greg said nothing as he led him to the back of the squad car.

"Where was he?" Jensen asked. "Where was Nick at when he got shot?"

"Top of the incline."

Jensen nodded and shut the door, hurrying now to where Greg had indicated. He watched feeling oddly detached. Jensen didn't come back up and Greg hoped that was a good sign. He looked once at where Ortega stood to find her staring back at him with a smile. After that the paramedics arrived.

"And then I was taken here."

Greg had finished his version of events. Brass and Grissom had let him tell it without interruption. It was a lot of information to take in.

"You believe me, right?" Greg asked.

Neither of them said a word. They weren't accustomed to telling suspects what they believed.

Greg shut his eyes and put his head back into his hands. A knock at the door drew Grissom away. It was Catherine and Sophia. Shutting it and stepping outside with them he asked what they had.

"Ortega's gun was under the SUV. Unfired, her prints only. I took Archie along and we found our bug."

Grissom smiled faintly at the news.

"Bug?" Sophia asked.

"We believed one or more of the SUV's in the garage was wired with a listening device," he explained briefly, "That's how she'd have known where their scene was. Brass said she wasn't supposed to be on tonight. Came in late offering to help with the extra work load then left unexpectedly. Did you get anything off of her?"

"Nothing," Sophia answered. "She showered at the hospital. Thoroughly. No skin under her nails, all the usual tells destroyed."

"Did she lose a nail?" Catherine asked.

"Actually, she did. I photographed it and noted it. Greg had a pretty vicious scratch on his cheek."

"Good, Travis came in for Amy and is running the blood found under the nail I picked up at the scene. My guess is that it's Greg's."

"What about her injuries?" Grissom asked.

"They look fresh," Sophia conceded, "The black eye looks like it was a left swing. The bruising starts just on the right side of her nose."

"Greg's right handed," Catherine added.

Sophia nodded; she'd remembered that and gotten extra photos to prove her point later.

"And her hands are worse then his."

"Like someone tried to pry something out of them?" Grissom asked.

"Exactly. He's got some scratches, but no bruising. If he hit her, made those marks, he'd of at least scrapped his knuckles but I saw no sign of that."

"Have an officer escort her here as soon as she's released," Grissom said to Sophia.

Sophia left, eager to wrap this up.

"How's Nick?" Catherine asked, hoping he'd have more information then she did.

"Haven't heard."

Catherine nodded and then looked back at the door.

"Greg?"

"Shaken, understandably."

Catherine's phone rang, cutting off her next question.

"Yeah," she said into it.

Grissom looked at her, hoping it was good news.

"Really? That's new."

He thought he caught a faint smile, but wasn't sure.

"I'll pass it along."

Now she did laugh.

"We'll see about that Travis. Thanks."

Grissom waited for her to enlighten him.

"Travis got a match on the unknown male from the break in. It belongs to Danny Foster."

"Didn't he work here?"

"He did six months ago. He and Ortega were married then. Apparently when they split up he quit and because of that…"

"He was removed from the lab database and Amy couldn't match him."

Catherine nodded and smiled.

"Travis reloaded a backup of the database from eight months prior and up popped Foster."

"Bring him in too," Grissom instructed, "I'm sure the two of them have a lot to tell us."