The doors closed behind them, with the sound of a pad lock click echoing in the cramped storage building. Both criminalists stood there while they acclimated to the low lighting. Sunlight filtered through the space from a row of filthy, open, little windows that dotted the top of the walls. The room smelled like a strange mix of chemicals and old motor oil.

A few crates were stacked in a corner. An old tire iron were leaning against what appeared to be an old tool box. Besides those few objects, the space was vacant and seemed to hold in and magnify the heat from the day.

Nick wandered over towards the door, listening at the sounds outside. He tried to see anything through the small cracks in the heavy wooden door, but he couldn't discern anything. He wiped his hand over his brow, as the sweat was already soaking his hair. He untucked his chocolate colored T-shirt from his dark blue jeans. Sighing, he wandered back over to his boss who had been scanning the interior.

"I don't think there's anyone watching us outside. They're all probably hanging low inside that other building," Nick suggested.

Grissom tilted his head slightly, and rested his hands on his hips. "What the hell do you think you were doing, Nick?"

The younger man matched his supervisor's posture. Nick didn't expect the first words out of Grissom' mouth to be so harsh considering the circumstances. He held his hand out in the air. "I was playing a hunch."

Grissom's eyes narrowed. "I told you to go back to the lab and process that shirt. What about that sentence did you not understand?"

"I did what you asked. I dropped it off at trace. I went looking for you; since no one knew where you went. I decided to go back to that pharmacy..."

"With an officer escort?" Grissom interrupted.

Nick could feel the red seeping into his cheeks; he had screwed up, and big time. He looked down at the floor and not back at his boss. "No."

Grissom shut his eyes in exasperation. When he opened them, Nick knew he was in for more that just a lecture. He'd seen the supervisor lose his cool and release the clamp on his more explosive emotions before.

Grissom's tone was angry and laced with disappointment. "You're a crime scene analyst, not a detective. Our jobs are to collect evidence and decipher its meaning. We have procedures, Nicky. Running off to a scene, without the presence of an officer, is reckless and stupid. You could have gotten yourself killed."

Nick didn't visibly flinch from the tirade, but he felt his temperature rise from the chastisement, and it wasn't from the stifling heat from the warehouse. "I should have brought someone along, I was wrong. However, I had no clue where you were, and you didn't answer your cell. Maybe I wasn't the only one playing a hunch and not telling anyone where I was goin."

Grissom worked his jaw: the younger man did have a point. "Did you tell anyone at the lab about visiting the Botanica?" he asked hopefully.

Nick didn't know if there was anything left to stare at on the floor. "No. I didn't," he replied in a low voice.

Knowing there would be time to discuss the ramifications of alerting fellow coworkers about plans and rash decisions, Grissom decided to drop the lecture for now. "So, no one knows where either of us was going. I'd also venture a guess, unless they find our notes on my desk. No one has a clue even where to begin looking for us, once it's discovered we're missing," he summarized, somewhat resigned.

Nick finally dragged his gaze up and looked his boss in the eyes. "Yeah. We're on our own."

Grissom arched an eyebrow, staring past the doors. "No, we're not."

Both criminalists had regulated themselves to the floor, as the aggressive temperature inside the small building was a bit more manageable sitting down. Each CSI had been contemplating the odds that the rest of the team might stumble upon where they were being held. Neither CSI could recall this property on any records they had gathered on the priest. Which meant it belonged to one of his followers and it would take hours to track that kind of paper trail.

Grissom absently rubbed his hand through his hair, it was damp with perspiration. His blue eyes drifted over to his colleague who was obviously lost in his own musings. "If you voice your thoughts, maybe I can help."

Nick glanced up. "Huh? Oh, just was thinking about that ritual from earlier. How Jorge's people can swallow all that nonsense."

The older man looked thoughtful. "Maybe because he's a true believer in his faith."

Nick rolled his eyes. "His religion involves animal sacrifice, consulting oracles, worshiping some divine being... the... ah... Olodumare." The younger man enunciated in a perfect accent. He didn't hide his obvious distaste for what he viewed as attributes of a cult.

Grissom slid off his glasses and tapped the end of the lens to the corner of his mouth. "You obviously know about the religion, but you happened to skip everything about its roots in Catholicism and African culture. Santeria was brought here through the Caribbean Islands. It's a form of white magic, and has spread along Miami and the Hispanic culture here."

"I saw a lot these so called priests back in Dallas, when my parents dealt with them through the court systems. Santeria attracts people who are facing some sort of crisis. The poor who have health, job, or family problems are attracted to its magical and spiritual dimensions. Then they get sucked into crime that surrounds the hiacrhy of the so called "churches"." Nick did not conceal his contempt.

"Its an accepted third-world religion," The older man countered.

Nick shook his head. "It's voodoo Gris, no matter how much you try to legitimize it."

"Santeria branched off from the worship and view of saints in the Catholic religion," Grissom reasoned.

Nick gave his supervisor a coy smile. "They lure in the poor and the misguided. Much of the so-called churches are funded by drug trafficking."

"Our friend the priest uses his faith in his daily life, Nick. He has a strong passion for it."

Nick snorted. "Well, he uses it to con his own cronies. They talked about how he consults his 'oracle' before making any drug runs."

Grissom gave the younger man a perplexed look. "They told you that?"

The younger CSI grinned somewhat devilishly. " Nah. They talked about a recent mission in the truck on our little ride here."

Grissom still stared in confusion.

"I can speak Spanish. Growing up in Dallas, it came in handy," Nick explained.

The other man matched his coworker's smile. "That's something I didn't know about you."

Nick shrugged. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

The supervisor was going to retort, sensing an odd underlying tone. However, he never voiced his thoughts when both men turned towards the sound of a lock being undone.

The criminalists stood and flanked each other. They tensed up, anxious about what might happen. Grissom glanced over at his younger colleague and chewed on his lower lip. Nick was understandably frightened, but he was putting on a brave front. The supervisor wished Nick didn't feel like he had to impress him. Grissom shook his head; he hoped the younger man would learn that he didn't need to spend so much time worrying what the supervisor thought of him.

Jorge Carlos walked in with his entourage. Four Latino men carried their guns casually. It was obvious that they didn't view the scientists as a viable threat. The priest went toe to toe with the supervisor.

"I've done a lot of praying and much consulting on the matter of the two of you." The priest extended a finger at each criminalist. He gazed into the older man's eyes, as if waiting for some kind of reaction. "Your blood tells me that you have very few weaknesses and that you are a very pure man."

Jorge tilted his head and looked unfavorably at the younger CSI. "You, gringo. I sought council with a Cuanderismo about the unbalances in your soul."

Nick gave the priest a lopsided grin. "My 'imbalances'? You consulted a witch doctor?"

"No, gringo, not a witch doctor. A holy man." Jorge pulled out a feather stained with the blood of one of them. He stroked the bristled ends of it over his palm. "I'm not an evil man. I will let each of you go in the morning."

Grissom cocked his head, sensing something was off kilter. "We'll be released tomorrow? You'll just... let us go?"

Jorge smiled with two rows of uneven teeth. "I don't wish harm towards the worthy. Both of you must prove that you are indeed innocents. Just missing parts of a flock who accidentally wandered into my culture, unaware of what you're intervening with."

Nick shared an uneasy look with Grissom. The supervisor sent him a message quite clearly with the look in his eyes, so he kept his thoughts to himself, letting his boss take the lead.

"Fine. We'll just wait here. We could use some water, since it's very hot in here." Grissom looked around when some of the men in the warehouse chuckled to themselves.

One seething look from the priest silenced his men. Jorge looked back at Grissom. "I give respect who give it to me in return," his words were spoken in a more icy tone.

The priest snapped his fingers, his men reacting quickly and efficiently. Two of the older looking of the posse unshouldered their shotguns and aimed then at the supervisor. Nick moved to stand in front of the older CSI, but he was quickly yanked away by the two other men.

"Hey!" The Texan protested as both his arms were secured behind his back and he was roughly shoved a few feet away.

Grissom held his hand out and stepped after the men, but froze when both shotguns were cocked, the sound of shells being loaded into the barrels, and aimed point blank at him. He looked at the priest, his eyes filling with anger. "What's going on? Let him go!" he demanded.

The priest rubbed the feather across his lips, slightly licking it with his tongue. Grissom didn't hide his distaste at the gesture.

"I'm a man of my word. However, I must know for sure if his imbalances are within the realm of the light or the dark. Only one way to tell." Jorge stuffed the feather into the pocket of his vest.

Nick struggled with his captors, but they held him firmly in place. Their boss strode over to him and studied the younger man. "It'll only hurt if you fight it too much." The priest pulled out a syringe and a small vial. He injected the needle into the mixture, and studied the amount he pulled out.

Nick's eyes widened in fear, and he bucked against the hands restraining him. One of the men's grip loosened, and Nick jabbed his shoulder into the man's chest and wiggled out of his grasp. The other goon dug his fingers into Nick's arm as he struggled to keep the CSI under his control.

"Enough!" Jorge shouted. "You cause any more trouble and your boss dies!' he threatened.

The other two cronies, whose weapons were aimed at the entomologist, edged closer to Grissom to make their point.

Nick quit his struggles, and was quickly restrained by the man he had successfully knocked aside.

Jorge looked at his men. "Get him on his knees," he ordered.

The man Nick had thrown off took the butt of his gun and slammed the handle into the criminalist's gut. The CSI grunted and crashed down to his knees.

The priest locked eyes with one of his followers. The goon released Nick's right arm and Jorge grabbed it, studying the blood vessels there. The priest squeezed hard on Nick's forearm. "You have nice veins," he commented.

Nick wanted nothing more than to take his chances and tackle the leader before he went through with his plans. The priest's iron-clad grip had a lot of strength behind it. The CSI could feel the blood circulation being slowed down, and a slight tingle snaked down his arm. Nick's breathing increased in tandem with his fear as the other man poised the needle right above a vein that was bulging just below the crook in his right arm.

"Please, don't do this," he pleaded in a strained voice. Nick wanted to bolt; he glanced over at Grissom, his superior and mentor. He saw the guns pointed at the older man, and the Texan knew the consequences if he didn't let this madman inject him with God only knew what.

His adrenaline pumped wildly through him; he wanted to fight, and it wasn't like him to play the victim. But he had responsibilities to his coworker and friend. Nick locked eyes with the priest, and voicelessly begged with him to halt his actions, hoping he connected with any sense of humanity within the cold-blooded man. Nick's breath hitched in his chest as he tried to suppress a shiver.

Grissom, who rarely experienced panic, felt his heart race. "Stop it! Don't do this!" he shouted.

The two thugs held Nick in position with his left arm pinned behind his back. One of the thugs had snaked an arm around the CSI's chest to keep him still as he leaned his weight on him.

Jorge Carlos looked somewhat sympathetic. "This is a journey you must take, young man." He plunged the needle into Nick's vein and pushed down on the plunger. He slid the syringe out just as quickly as he had issued the injection.

Nick bit his lip as he felt a sting, then a burning sensation began to flood his arm. He cradled his bicep after it was released, rubbing at the injection mark and looked up at the face of his captor with disdain and shock.

The priest snapped his fingers. His men released the CSI as Nick grappled with the reality of what had just transpired.

The two other goons lowered their weapons and backed away, flanking their boss as they exited the building.

Grissom bolted towards Nick and knelt down with him. He removed the criminalist's hand to inspect the injection site, noting the red swelling around the tiny little hole. Furious, he stood abruptly and stalked towards the priest, despite the warning glare the followers gave him. Grissom got right into the other man's face.

"What did you give him? What dosage?" he asked in rapid-fire succession.

The priest didn't answer him and the supervisor's faced flushed red with barely restrained fury. "Answer me, you bastard!" he seethed.

"I gave him the truth," Jorge cryptically announced and turned his back on the scientist. His four followers followed behind, keeping wary eyes on both criminalists.

The five men exited and closed the door, allowing the small enclosure to be cast in gloom once again. After the door was slammed shut, it was locked and secured. Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose at a loss of what to do. Knowing he had to formulate a plan, he quickly made his way back to his CSI while he contemplated the next course of action.

TBC...

Notes: This is the last calm chapter. The rest of this story will be...well ...rough. Again this is a character study set during Season 2. I hope everyone enjoys it.

rozzy-

My faithful friend. I think you'll find this story to your tastes, it delves deep and dark. Thank you again for all of your wonderful support for everything!

MS2-

Hope I keep your attention throughout. Off to read you work here a bit later.

Crutchjoy-

Why thank you for such beautifully words. I try to take the reader on a ride, one that is exciting as well as emotional. No matter what I do, there will always be a solid ending. Thank you again and hope you like this new one.

PL Wynter-

Good to see you again. Always good to hear from you. Yes, I've been glued to the finale promos. I think I'll need a drink for Thursday night.

Brigitta-

I always continue! I'll never leave a reader hanging too long. Glad to see a new face and thanks for the support.

Miss Anonymous HP-

I finally get to say thank you for all of your feedback of my stories. I have read all your comments as you went through my little collection. Thanks for taking the time to read and to respond.

Designation-

Jorge is a complicated person and not one to take lightly. However the focus of most of the chapters will be between Grissom and Nick. The rest of the story becomes one full blown roller coaster ride and presented the self challenge I wanted to take. Hope you enjoy it and always nice hearing from you. As for the title, man what a goof on my part. Sigh, I'll have to fix it sometime. Thanks for catching it!

Wolfwood-

Hehe. I 'm sure you have a ton of questions now! Not sure if I will be able to answer them, but its fun to make people anxious!

Shacky-

My buddy. You'll just have to wait and see. But I most defend myself, I'm nice to Nick...sometimes! I hope I'm not a predictable author.

Lament-

Thank you. With all the discussion about Grissom and Nick's views of each other, I find it ironic the timing of this story. I began working on it a while ago so I guess this will fit well.

Brady Layne-

Thanks again! Hope you enjoy the new adventure!

amarawind-

Missy! Hehe, well I decided to update sooner. A lot of things fell into place at once, so I'll be to update a bit more frequently then originally planned.

c1-

Glad to see you again. Hope you enjoy!

A.Reamains-

Thank you. This has been one of my favorites to write! Damn pain in the ass, but fun!

Amy-

Thanks. I like friendship stories, to me they have more meaning. However, I like reading most anything as long as the characters ring true.