Grissom was too engrossed with the wall of weird to pay much attention to the one sided conversation. His head whipped around when he heard Catherine raise her voice several octaves in anger.

"What do you mean you and Nick are heading over to Gold's Gym? What the hell is going on, Warrick?" echoed in the room.

Pissed off, she flipped it shut, shaking her head. She looked at her boss. "You are so not gonna to believe this," she seethed, obviously worried.


Nick absently flipped through channels on his television. He stopped on a basketball game and watched it without much interest. He sipped on a bottle of water, mulling over the idea of going back to bed. He was eager to hear about what was transpiring at Fulton's, but he kept himself from calling Catherine to get any kind of progress report.

Feeling restless, he got up and headed towards his dining room table, where the box of files still lay taunting him. He pulled out a file when he heard his cell phone ring. "Stokes."

"Mr. Stokes?"

The criminalist didn't recognize the female voice. "Yeah. Who's this?"

"It's Michelle...Michelle Wilson," a frightened voice responded.

Confused and caught off guard, Nick dropped the file. "Ms. Wilson? What's going on? Is there a problem?"

"I-I had your number and didn't know who else to call."

Perplexed, Nick continued. "What's the matter?"

"Something is going on between Roger and Bob and I don't know what to do."

Nick started to pace. "Where are you?"

"I'm driving back to the Gym. Roger got a call from Bob and he started screaming at him over the phone. I... I don't know what's going on."

"Roger is meeting Bob Fulton at the gym. Do you know why?" Nick had a bad feeling.

"Mr. Stokes...Nick... I don't know what's happening. I don't even know why I'm calling you. But I'm afraid for Bob. He's a decent guy... he got Roger all riled up and I'm afraid what he'll do to him."

Nick didn't want to tell the woman that he felt it might be the other way around, and that Roger Sikes was the one possibly in a lot of danger. Nick wasn't sure what to do; Michelle had proven to be manipulative before. "Maybe you should call the police."

"Look, Nick, I know I can come off as an egotist, or brash, but that's the job. I live in a man's world. However, I know what kind of trouble Roger's been in with you guys. I don't want him to go to jail. Is that so hard to understand? Roger is a wonderful man deep inside; he's just doesn't control his emotions very well, and I'm really afraid he's going to hurt Bob."

Nick closed his eyes; he couldn't believe his own words. "Don't go inside, Michelle. I'm on my way. You got it?"

There was a pause. "I'll wait for you outside. I've still got my key."

"Good. Don't do anything. I should be there in about fifteen minutes." Nick hung up and stared at his phone. He hadn't heard back from Catherine and for all they knew, she was on another goose chase. Nick's instincts told him that even though he'd made a mistake about Sikes, things definitely did not feel right about Fulton.

Nick debated over calling Brass. He worried that this might turn out to be nothing but another baseless hunch. If things didn't look good when he arrived, he'd call the police to handle things. He went to his bedroom and carefuly changed out of his sweatpants into some worn out jeans. Nick returned to his foyer and gathered up a few things. He put his cell on the clip of his belt. He went to his end table and pulled out his back up Glock, checked for ammunition and scooped up the holster. Then he carefully slid his leather jacket on, trying not to jar his shoulder. He took his keys from the drawer and headed outside.

Nick was almost at his truck when a familiar car pulled up next to him. A very surprised Warrick got out of the car and gave him a suspicious glare. "Where you think you're goin?"

Nick didn't want to argue. "Don't have time to explain."

Warrick stood in front of his friend. The taller man eyed his partner and noted the gun under his jacket. His eyes went wide in surprise. "What are you packing heat for, man?" Alarm bells went off in his head. "What the hell's goin' on?"

Impatient and not feeling like being second-guessed, Nick brushed past his partner. "You can come with me if you want, but I'm leaving."

"You've been out of the hospital for one day. Don't you think you're pushing it a bit much?" Warrick said, exasperated.

"Sometimes we have to follow our instincts, bro. No matter how unreasonable they seem."

Warrick could sense the seriousness of the situation. He knew that tone. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the man's keys. "Fine. I'm driving. You shouldn't be behind the wheel." Warrick wasn't about to argue with Nick, since he recognized the expression on his face. When Nick Stokes got something in his head, there was no way of arguing with the man. Warrick felt whatever the situation was, then he'd have his friend's back.

Satisfied that there would be no further arguments for now at least, Nick climbed into the passenger side of his truck. He wasn't about to protest about driving. He hadn't taken his pain meds since he'd come home. His adrenaline starting to kick into overdrive, Nick chose his words wisely. He explained to Warrick their current destination as they drove off towards a confrontation they would soon not forget.


Warrick pulled into Gold Gym's parking lot and turned off the engine. Michelle Wilson was coming towards them at a panicked speed. Both men got out of the truck. The distraught woman was talking a mile a minute, her hands wildly animating with every word.

Nick tried to calm her down. He gently put his hands on each of her shoulders, trying to get her to focus on him. "Ms. Wilson... Ms. Wilson... Calm down."

Warrick stood next to the frantic woman, warily scanning the building for any signs of a disturbance. His eyes darted back and forth between his partner and their surroundings.

Michelle took a deep breath and ran a hand through her frazzled hair. " I don't know where they are. That crime tape is still on the front entrance."

"Tell me about the conversation between your boyfriend and Bob," Nick said, trying to gather more detailed information about the situation.

The hotheaded side of her personality began to seep through, her tone becoming more annoyed and hostile. "I told you. Roger got a phone call, and after a few minutes he started to get really pissed off, screaming at Bob." Michelle explained, stealing a glance towards the building.

Nick nodded, trying to encourage her to go on. "All right. So he got upset over the phone. Why the panic?"

"Yes, damn it! Roger was cursing and kept screaming Bob's name." Michelle wrung her hands in an attempt to compose herself. "Roger kept threatening him over the phone about some secret. Then when he hung up, Roger wouldn't talk to me. Told me to mind my own business and that Bob wanted to meet him. Roger said he was going to take care of things once and for all."

Warrick kept quiet, letting the woman rattle on about the phone conversation. The CSI was debating about calling the Cavalry now. Nick had shared his suspicions about Bob Fulton on their way over in the truck. Bob Fulton was a man that should be dealt with very carefully. The CSI pulled his parnter aside to speak to him.

Nick looked at his partner. "If they didn't go through the front entrance, then they must have gone towards the back so they wouldn't draw much attention."

Warrick took a deep breath. "Yeah. That'd be a good guess. I really think we should call Brass about this. Have them drive over. This isn't our gig, man."

Nick looked like he was actually be considering the notion when Michelle stalked over. Her frantic disposition quickly morphed into her usual temperamental self. "I called you guys to help. If you can't..."

All three flinched when the sound of gunfire pierced the evening air. Nick and Warrick instinctively pulled out their weapons as they searched for the sound of the shot.

Warrick looked at a shocked Michelle. "Get behind the truck!" he commanded. He whipped out his cell phone, quickly communicating the need for police assistance and the address of the Gym.

Michelle Wilson hid behind the vehicle as Nick trained his weapon towards the open area of the building. He kept his gun in his right hand, his left one grasping it to keep it steady. Alll trace of pain seemed to have magically vanished when his pulse shot up in response to the shot. He glanced over at his partner. "That sounded like it came from the back of the building."

Warrick squinted in the darkness as he strained to hear any other signs of a commotion. "I called it in, police are on the way."

Warrick locked eyes with the other criminalist, knowing exactly what was running through his friend's mind. Even though they were not cops, it was their duty to contain the scene. They were part of law enforcement.

Warrick shook his head. "This isn't about guilt, man. It's not our thing."

Nick inched his way onto the sidewalk. "If a citizen is in danger, we should do something about it. No matter how much of a jackass he is."

"We should wait." Warrick knew that Roger Sikes was a complete asshole, but his partner was torn between guilt and the need to see this case to a conclusion.

"Come on, man. I don't want to be the one who could've done something and didn't while a crime was being committed." Nick tilted his head towards the building.

"Can you really do this? You got to be able to aim, Nick," Warrick warned.

"I can do this."

Warrick exhaled heavily. "All right, let's go around the back. I'll lead the way."

Nick looked over his shoulder. "Stay put Ms. Wilson, till the police get here. Tell them what's going on when they arrive."

Both CSI's headed towards the back of Gold's Gym.

It seemed like forever, but in reality it had only been two or three minutes at the most before both criminalists had reached the back entrance of the gym. Warrick noticed that the crime scene tape had been stripped away. Warrick placed his back against the brick wall and swung open the door. He could hear some muffled voices, but nothing that he could understand.

He quickly poked his head into the hallway before entering the corridor. Nick held steady behind him, and both men took flanking positions around the door that led to the Olympic sized swimming pool. From the small hall, both CSI's could hear Bob Fulton's loud, raging voice.

Nick's heart was pounding and sweat began to trickle down his forehead, prickling his skin. His right shoulder was screaming at him. Torn muscles and ligaments were being taxed beyond their means. Despite the pain, he kept his arms steady, his gun trained in front of him. His side was a different story; it felt like a sharp knife was stabbing him constantly, but he ignored it as much as he could. He glanced at Warrick. Silently they communicated with each other. Warrick would slowly open the door to see where the subjects were. Based on those positions, and the immediate danger of the victim, they would move in.

Warrick twisted the door knob with his left hand while using his right foot to slowly push it ajar.

"Every day you made my life into a living nightmare. It was your goal to mock me...to belittle me. Why? Huh? To prove you were the big man on campus. ... Couldn't take that I had the attention of your girl?... Look at you now... how does it feel to be under the mercy of someone else? To be under the mercy of... me!" Fulton sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

Warrick saw Roger Sikes in a fetal position on the floor with blood streaming from his leg. He was clutching his knee, his face scrunched in agony. Fulton was aiming the gun at the prone man, pacing back and forth beside him.

"Answer me!" Fulton kicked the injured man in the leg, causing Sikes to scream.

"Stop it!" Roger begged, his voice cracking.

Warrick and Nick burst through the door, their weapons aimed at the physical therapist.

"Drop your weapon and put your hands up!" Warrick commanded.

The CSI's moved in as close as they dared, taking positions about three feet from the two men. Fulton was sneering in glee over his victim as Roger lay near the edge of the pool. He looked up weakly at the criminalists as they rushed in, his face etched in pain.

Fulton looked up in shock, but kept his weapon pointed at his hostage. His face flushed, he shouted. "Get out of here! This has nothing to do with you!'

"Lower you weapon, Fulton," Nick ordered this time.

Fulton smiled coldly. "I knew you'd side with him. All of you sports jocks stick together."

Warrick held the suspect in his sights. "Mr. Fulton..."

"No! No talking me down. I've been under the boot of these people my whole life. Their... their egos... their pretensions. Always better than everyone and boy did they let you know." Fulton shook his head violently, but his gun never wavered from its target.

"All those years in high school, all I ever wanted was to be left alone. I never could get through a single damn day without being pushed around or shoved into my locker, by the likes of him." Fulton stared at Sikes with an expression of revulsion.

Nick's arms began to tremble from the strain. He adjusted his grip on his weapon. "Bob, we can talk about this. But you have to drop that gun and step away from Sikes."

Fulton looked at Nick, the veins popping along his face. "You were one of them. You never had to endure the humiliation, the trauma of going to school in fear. But I knew what I had to do. Become one of you, embrace that lifestyle so I could enter your world."

Nick looked over at Warrick. Bob Fulton was definitely not rooted in reality any more. He had to do something to keep him talking while they waited for the police to arrive. "Our world?" Nick asked, hoping to keep the man's attention on him.

"Your world!" Fulton shouted. "Full of vanity, full of pointless competition. It's all you people think about. So, I used it to my advantage. Started on an aggressive routine. Bulked myself up so that Roger and the others would accept me. It didn't matter how many pills I took, or how many sits ups I endured."

Fulton peered down at his victim, and then back at Nick. "Roger was so full of himself. Just like the others, it was pretty easy to surprise him." He looked at the injured man. "Got you real good, eh? Shot you in the knee," Fulton laughed. "Looks like you won't be using that leg for a while. Or anything else," Fulton said, his voice trailing off.

Warrick inched slightly closer. This situation was becoming more volatile by the second. He noticed Nick's gun falter ever so slightly. It was taking everything in the CSI's power to keep his arms straight in front of him for so long. His legs were shaking, obviously straining to keep him upright. This had to be ended soon, before Nick collapsed. Which could easily set Fulton off, too.

"Just put your gun down, Bob. You got your revenge. I mean what would Michelle think of all this?" Nick was pretty sure the therapist thought of the attractive woman in a different light.

Fulton was becoming more unstable, shouting at Nick. "Shut up! Don't talk about her! You're one of them. I heard Roger talking about you, another damn football player. How many lives did you ruin every day? Who did you pick on the most?"

Nick kept his voice calm, every minute they spoke was another one that kept Roger Sikes alive. "I was actually a science major. I played football, but I also studied very hard every day," he tried to reason with the man. The criminalist wanted to make Fulton see him as something other than the stereotype he was being pegged for.

"I want you two to lower your own weapons." Fulton had contained himself briefly and looked at the criminalists. "If you don't, then I'll kill him," Fulton nodded to an almost unconscious Sikes on the floor.

"We can't do that," Warrick calmly stated. The investigator knew it was two against one. Those were never good odds to go against, even an insane person could figure that out.

"What the Hell is going on!"

Both CSI's saw Michelle Wilson at the other side of the pool. She must have entered through the front entrance. The woman took one look at her boyfriend and covered her mouth in shock. Her fear quickly turned to fury as she ran over to tend to Sikes.

"Michelle, Stop!" Nick shouted.

It was too late; Fulton grabbed her by the neck and roughly pulled her in front of him. He aimed his gun at her temple, digging it hard into her skull. "You know what? I changed my mind. You want Roger so bad... then you can have him."

With strong arms, Fulton kept an iron grip around Michelle, and kicked a semi-conscious Sikes into the pool.

Bob began to back up with the gym owner as his shield. "Protect and serve, guys," he mocked as he made his way out of the room.

Nick moved forward, his Glock still trained on the retreating man. Warrick got to the edge of the pool as Roger Sikes began to struggle in the water. Sikes weakly stayed afloat as Warrick grabbed a hold of his hand.

Nick followed Fulton until the therapist had exited the pool area. Nick paused at the door and glanced back to see if his partner needed help with the injured body builder. With a lot of effort, Warrick had managed to pull the mammoth man out of the water. Roger Sikes collapsed back onto the floor as Warrick pulled out his cell to call for medical assistance.

Nick did not know when back up was going to arrive. He knew every minute that passed meant that Michelle Wilson was in danger, and Bob Fulton was closer to getting away with his crimes. "I'm going after them," he called behind him.

Breathing hard from pulling the large man out of the pool, Warrick screamed, "Nick!... Damn it, wait!"

It was too late and his partner was off to look for the physical therapist. Warrick had a critically injured man and tried his best to attend to him. In his gut he knew that Nick was doing his job, following an armed suspect who was holding a hostage. However, Warrick was filled with fear. Bob Fulton was dangerous, Nick was in no shape to take that nut job on. The CSI didn't know how much longer it would be till help arrived, which would free him up to go find Nick and back him up.

TBC...


Author's notes: How's that for a set up for the weekend? You wanted tension, and you got it.

Designation:

Sikes is just an asshole, but in the end he got what was coming to him, even maybe more than he deserved. Nick hasn't lost it, he's just wants to see this case solved, and feels somewhat responsible for whats happening, since his insticts were incorrect about the suspect.

csifan:

Here you go. Lots of action in the next chapter.

Tanquay:

Here you go another cliffhanger. Not too many more i'm afriad as this is the climax of the story...it has to end soon.

Auntypasta:

Hehe, aww the shower scene. sighs I don't wind down, I just wind tighter:-)

mudhousejunki:

Thanks for all your contiuned support! When did you suspect Fulton?

PLWynter:

Nick's a good old fasioned gentelmen, he doesn't like extra attention. Glad you are still here, thought you went away.

msquirrl:

I hope you tip toes don't hurt too much! Glad you're enjoying everything.

a.remains:

Thanks sweetie! Hope everything is all right with your computer. Hoped you liked this one smirk ducks away now before I get things thrown at me.

staresp4cat:

Yeah, I'm a bit scared for Nick now as well. I would imagine Catherine is not going to be very happy at all about this whole messs.

witchsword:

Nick and Warrick the trouble making duo. I adore both of them.

c1:

Its great to see you again, I wondered where you disappeared to. Glad you've been able to catch up.

Beth:

Thanks for your support.