Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT

Chapter 97: Getting It Back – Part 8

August 26, 2005 (Day 126)
Catherine's House
8:32 a.m.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Warrick folded his arms tightly across his chest and stared down Catherine. "I don't like talking about it, because I'm not cool with it and you know that."

Incensed, Catherine snapped, "You promised me that you wouldn't give me shit about this."

"I'm not giving you shit. I'm just not into talking about it." Getting irritated he snipped, "You're a smart woman, you should be able to notice the difference between the two."

Not satisfied, Catherine paced the kitchen floor. "You have to have some underlying issue about this that you're not telling me."

"No…I don't." Massaging his forehead he explained his position for what he was sure was the thirteenth time. "I don't think you need plastic surgery. Therefore, I think it's an unnecessary medical risk which, because you have a daughter who needs her mother, seems self absorbed…but the whole damn thing is self absorbed, not that it surprises me that you're self absorbed because it's always been your specialty."

"Go to hell." She turned on a dime and stormed out of the room.

"Nice!"

"Thank you!"

"Slam the bedroom door now!" A second later when it flew closed he clapped. "Give it up for the Diva of Dupont Lane!"

Lindsay came through the backdoor just in time. "Did I miss the show?"

"Linds, you know your mom and me…" He hated when she caught them getting snippy. The girl had more than enough drama in her thirteen years, she didn't need extra. "It's nothing. We had a rough shift and we're tired, that's all."

Opening the fridge Lindsay asked her burning question. "Why aren't you excited she's getting her boobs and butt lifted? Guys always want bigger and perkier parts. If it wasn't for the audio evidence coming from the bedroom I'd think you were gay." Grabbing an apple and a bottle of water she shut the door. "And don't tell me I'm wrong. The Strip advertises T&A night and day and all the guys at school drool over Summer Reston because she already wears a C cup."

Warrick remained silent thinking…how the hell am I going to tackle this one?

As Lindsay washed her apple she continued pondering. "And I see the way all you guys peep at Tawny's bod! You have to force yourself to peel your eyes away from her D's. Hodges walked into a wall yesterday because Tawny bent over and he couldn't stop gaping. You're probably all standing there willing your eyes to move by chanting…look at her face, not her boobs, look at her face!" Knowing he was squirming she ranted on. "At the church picnic last week, no one was tripping over Nick's fiancée's barely B's, but if Tawny ever comes to church, the men will be clapping in praise of more than the Lord."

Warrick glanced down at his pager, willing it to beep and rescue him from the awkward conversation.

After swallowing her first bite of apple Lindsay prodded, "I think you're standing there imitating a tree because you know I'm right and you can't think of anything to say. I bet you're feeling a little less self-righteous too."

Finally he settled upon deflection. "So, you're okay with your mother getting half her body sliced into, sucked out or injected?"

"Totally," She answered after her second bite of apple. "When I'm old and flabby I plan on doing the same thing. And what choice does she have? You're thirty-six and she's forty-two. She's already six years older than you, which makes it shocking you even want her. In this town, every guy wants a younger woman. Look no further than Grissom. Sara's fifteen years younger than him. Oh, and mom just told me that Sam's latest hottie is twenty three years younger than him…he's so gross, I can't believe I'm related. Ugh." When she shook off the ickiness Lindsay remarked, "Even Sanders scored a babe that's eight years younger. You're the exception, Pops."

That's when Warrick realized he could actually feel more uncomfortable than he already was.

Suddenly vulnerable, Lindsay lost the edge in her voice. "That's why I'm always worried you'll hit the road. I'm sure that's why my mom's worried too. You keep saying my mom is having surgery because she's self-centered. Have you ever considered the possibility that she's having surgery to look better, so it's more likely you'll stick around like I want you to? Maybe she's really doing this for me."

He let his thoughts slip unchecked. "And do you and your mother ever think that all this talk about me walking out the door for superficial reasons makes me feel like you don't trust me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Throwing his arms up in frustration he explained, "I'm not here for the T&A. If that's all I was interested in trust me, I could find it nightly elsewhere and without the strings of living with a moody woman and her equally moody teenage daughter. I'm here because I love your mother and I want to be the father you don't have. Isn't that why we're buying a new house together? To be a family? Why are the two of you so sure I'm gonna do what my father did, and bolt?" Raw with emotion he pleaded, "I'm not my father, Lindsay, but obviously my word isn't good enough around here." Taking a deep breath he sighed, "I'm sorry…I honestly don't know what else I can do to prove that I'm gonna stick around."

Her blurt was heartfelt. "You could marry my mom."

"Linds…" Lowering his head Warrick huffed a sigh of frustration. "Your parents were married and it didn't help them, did it? Sixty percent of marriages end in divorce. And your mom made it clear that she never wants to be married again." Glancing over he saw the girl's eyes welling up. "Come here…" He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you both. I'm staying." Kissing the top of her head he whispered, "I need you to have a little faith. Can you do that?"

She nodded as she savored the embrace. "I promise."

"Thanks." Releasing her he said, "Now uh...I need to go talk to your mother because she was actually right about one thing…as shocking as that may seem to you since you're always telling her she's wrong."

"Okay." Wiping her eyes, she watched him slowly walk out of the room. "Hey, Pops."

"Yeah."

Feeling better she teased as she ran down the hall, "I'll be in my room listening to my I-Pod with the volume turned up so you and mom don't have to worry about volume control when you're fighting or making up!"

At the bedroom door Warrick announced, "I'm coming in so grab whatever you want to throw and get ready." When he didn't hear a snarky reply he opened the door. "What the hell are you wearing?" He asked before bursting out laughing. There she was lying on top of the bed wearing the most unattractive garment he'd ever seen.

"It's a grandma flannel nightgown," She casually responded while turning up the volume on The Price Is Right. "Bid lower! Lower!" Rolling her eyes she groaned, "Kids today…they don't know the price of anything. They're too spoiled. When I was going to the little school on the prairie back in the late 1800's, my teacher Ms. Beetle taught me…"

"Enough!" He held up his hand. "I get the message…you feel antiquated."

Clicking the TV to mute she told him, "I'm not going under the knife to get bigger, better stuff. I just want my old stuff back in the right places."

After shutting the door he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Are you up for five minutes of brutal honesty?" It was a gimmick they used.

"Go."

Setting his watch for five minutes he said, "You look like hell wearing that thing."

"It's symbolic." She smoothed her hands over the flannel. "When I walk down the street I feel like I'm wearing this."

"You were right, I have an issue."

"I knew I was."

"You want this surgery because you think it will keep me around. That pisses me off because it makes me think you don't trust me to stay."

"I don't."

"Why?"

"Because what man in my life ever has?" Exasperated she said, "The last guy in my life traded me in for a younger model, so did every guy before him, including the father of my child. Is it that hard to understand why I have trust issues?"

"I understand why you wouldn't trust them." Leaning in he lowered his voice to a soulful whisper. "But I'm having a hard time understanding why you don't trust me. Have I ever done anything to make you suspicious?"

"No."

"What is this then? Stereotyping? Is that the basis for all this? I'm a man…therefore I'm a lying cheating bastard. Is that what's going on? Is it worse because I'm a black man so the odds of me bolting are statistically higher? Or are you worried my apple didn't fall far enough from my old man's tree?" His ire building again he snapped, "Is it really stereotyping or is it just me? Do you think Grissom, Nick and Greg are all going beat it out the door?"

Looking him straight in the eyes she soberly replied, "You know the odds…half won't make it. If you were still a gambling man how would rank the four couples? Which is the sure thing? Which has a good chance? Which is questionable? Which is most likely to fail?"

Not up for the debate he groaned, "You're cynical."

"I'm trained to look at the evidence." She checked his watch for the time. "There's only one couple from solid homes, who have no bad relationship baggage…Nick and Carrie. And they have a special bond…whatever…it's indisputable. Nick once told me there has never been a divorce in his family's history, dating back as far as they have record. And, he's played the field enough to know he's really ready to settle down. Any bookie would declare them the odds on favorite for happily ever after. Of course, they'll both keel over from self-imposed stress in their prime, but when they croak they'll have been faithful to each other."

Not enjoying her analysis, Warrick shook his head. "I'm pulling for everybody."

Ignoring him she forged on. "Next I'd pick Grissom and Sara…both from broken homes, no failed marriages, they stabilized their relationship before starting a family and most importantly they'll never have financial issues. Plus…they both have a fatalistic attitude that no one else in the world would ever understand them…that desperation will keep them together."

"I don't suppose we're third?"

"I think it's a tie for last place." She shrugged. "Greg and Tawny have no idea what's about to hit them after the babies are born and they were brought together by an unplanned pregnancy. Chuckles won't be laughing when he's been up all night listening to babies wail after giving twelve hours to the County, or when he's driving his mom's Camry to the store to buy diapers every day, mourning the loss of his sports car and the lifestyle he was just acquiring when he blew it. He's hyper by nature…he'll get restless and unlike Nick, Greg only sowed a few oats before he was forced to settle down."

Taking her hand he quietly remarked, "There's one way to beat the odds."

"How's that?"

"You stop gambling. You go with a sure thing." Reaching out he caressed her cheek. "You're my sure thing, Baby." His watch alarm beeped, signaling the five minutes of brutal honesty was up but he kept going. "You know what happened when I stopped gambling my money? I stopped losing it."

Placing her hand over his she asked in a whisper, "How can you think I'm a sure thing when I've been everybody's nothing special?"

"Because you've been a pain in my ass since the day I met you." Cracking a smile he explained, "See…these other guys they didn't know what they were in for…I did. Years before we ever kissed, I saw you at your bitchy worst. If any of those other guys knew what you were really like…they wouldn't have bought you a free drink."

Matching his smile she nodded. "Very true."

"That's right." His grin expanded with hers. "This soldier wasn't drafted or tricked into this hazardous duty assignment…no…he volunteered. That's how you should know this is the real deal."

When they were both laughing he pulled her close. "I love you, Cath…the way you are, and no matter what you do or don't do to your body."

"I love you too," She admitted while gripping him tight. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"I'm still getting the surgery."

"I never doubted that." He smoothed his hands over the back of the flannel nightgown. "I want you to feel healthy and vibrant. If surgery will give you that, then I'm supportive but, if you're doing this out of fear then no way."

"Honestly…I was doing it for both, but now after this conversation, I'm doing it solely because I want to jiggle less and look as young as I feel."

"You look ninety in this granny flannel." He shook his head staring at the bold yellow flowers on it.

"Then you better rid me of it." She backed out of his arms and fell against the sheets.

"Seriously…I can't, you need to toss it." Laughing he confessed, "My grandma used to wear those and it's freaking me out."

"Understood." In a flash she tossed it to reveal that was all she was wearing. "Since I don't have issues with your attire, I'll remove it." The shirt was the first to go and the rest soon followed. "I'm going to take a few minutes to worship your abs so one day, when you're an old man, and the six-pack has morphed into a un-pack, I'll have beautiful memories."

As her eager mouth deftly explored his midsection he acknowledged her comment. "Is Ms. Cynical insinuating we'll be growing old together? That's some heavy duty optimism considering you had us in last place."

"I just remembered my competitive nature…" Snaking up his body she grinned. "…I've never been one to settle for last place."

The Grissoms
8:43 a.m.

Sitting at the kitchen table eating the pancakes and vegetarian sausage her husband had made her Sara asked, "What's the first thing you want to do after breakfast?"

As he carried his empty plate to the sink Gil replied, "Since I've already had two workouts this morning…one in the home gym and one in the bedroom, I'd like to spend a little time…" The ring of the house phone abruptly ended his thought.

Bringing her empty plate to the sink, Sara informed him, "I'll be in my office checking to see if Wendy e-mailed our photos yet." Straightening her pink cashmere robe she trotted down the hall looking forward to seeing herself and her husband caught on film.

To set the mood, she lit her favorite White Barn candle, Vanilla Malted, which she had on her desk to entice her husband when he was busy at work in his office across the hall.

You've Got Mail

The automated greeting was music to her ears and she clicked on the mailbox to retrieve her prize. "Excellent." Among the other miscellaneous e-mails, there were three that caught her eye, one from Mom2Blake4, one from PryncessT22 and a sale notification from Victoria's Secret. She picked Wendy's first.

Morning Sara,

Sorry I couldn't get these to you last night. Paul surprised me by coming home at ten just as I was settling down at the computer. He wasn't supposed to arrive until this afternoon. We had some catching up to do after the kids went to bed ;)

The attached file has all the photos I took. I didn't have time to separate them because we decided to leave early for a family outing since Paul isn't going into the office today. So, I hope you don't mind that I sent yours to Tawny as well.

I'll call you later,

Wendy

Anxious to see the pictures Sara clicked open the attachment. After zipping by twenty sickeningly sweet photos of Tawny and Greg, she saw the first of her and Gil. "We look so good together!" She blurted in excitement. "Not syrupy at all." With Gil wearing his hiking clothes, she thought he looked rugged-sexy standing there holding her.

Gil appeared in the doorway covering the phone. "Honey…Jim's on the phone and he needs to talk to you."

"Check out our three pictures while I talk." Standing up she moved away from the desk so he could have a seat.

"Mmm…my favorite candle," He mused before handing the phone over.

"I was setting the mood so you wouldn't be as inclined to freak about having our love captured in photos." She kissed his cheek then took the phone. "Morning, Jim." Putting their residual awkwardness aside she asked, "How are things going with Ellie? Tawny said you were working to get her into rehab. I really hope it works this time."

"Thanks, Sara. She's staying at Desert Springs until noon tomorrow, and then I'm driving her out to a place in Flag. It's supposed to be the best in the area. That's why I'm calling. Since I'll be gone tomorrow, I won't be able to keep our lunch date. I really do want to clear the air between us though, so maybe we can meet for an early breakfast?"

Sitting in her guest chair she sighed, "In light of everything that's gone on recently it seems inconsequential…even petty."

"Nah…it's legit. I handled it badly."

"I don't want to rush things over breakfast before you're heading out of town." She glanced over at Gil. "Jim…what about dinner tonight after visiting hours?" When she saw her husband nod she smiled. "Would that work?"

"Uh…I'm supposed to have dinner with Heather after visiting hours with Ellie at seven-thirty. I could call her and…"

"Wait…um." Sara took a deep breath and remembered what she overheard Tawny say about Ellie…It was a really good plan. It was Heather's plan. "Jim…why don't the four of us go out to dinner? You and Heather, Gil and me."

"Excuse me? I know I heard that wrong." Brass laughed for the first time in days.

Stunned, Gil removed his glasses and stared at his wife. "I thought I was awake, but apparently I'm asleep having a very odd dream."

"I'm serious," She informed both men. "We're all adults. We need to bury the hatchet."

Brass laughed once more. "But do you plan on burying it in Heather, that's my concern."

"Stop." She took another cleansing breath. "Obviously, if Heather is helping you with your deepest personal matters, she is important to you, Jim…and she can't be as horrible as I think she is. I don't want you going places without her if I'm going to be there just to appease me. That will make me feel like a spoiled brat getting my way. Since I'm rather sure Greg and Tawny will be getting married in the near future, let's do this now so you don't have to bring Roxie to the wedding as your faux date."

After a pause Brass remarked, "You're really serious."

"Yes." Sara felt her husband staring at her. "How about eight o'clock? I'll make a reservation some place dignified and quiet to set the right mood."

"I'll run it by Heather to make sure and call you back although I'm sure she'll say yes because if she doesn't, she'll look weaker than you and what are the odds of her taking that position."

"Exactly! Bye Jim."

"Bye."

When she hung up Gil blurted, "We're having dinner tonight with Jim and Lady Heather!"

"Most likely."

In shock he kept gaping. "Okay, this odd dream has gone on long enough. Wake me up now, please."

Little America Hotel
9:32 a.m.

Carrie was still fast asleep as Nick leaned over her in bed and whispered, "Sweetheart…" When there was no reply he gently shook her. "Carrie…"

"Mmmm…" She swatted at him like a pesky fly.

"You need to wake up, Darlin'."

"Why?" She moaned while keeping her eyes slammed shut. "Didn't we just go to bed an hour ago?"

Turning her from her side to her back Nick informed her, "Uh no…you've had a full eight hours and that's not including the two you slept on the car ride home from Phoenix last night. I've been awake for over an hour watching ESPN…not that I'm complaining."

"Mmmm…" Stretching, she finally opened her eyes. "Morning." He was looming over her dressed only in gray boxer briefs and his hair was damp from recently showering. "You look chipper."

"I am." Day three of their vacation and he felt fantastic. Everything about the previous day left him happier and more relaxed…hiking, ravaging, bonding, ballgame watching…it was an awesome day and he was looking forward to this one being equally wonderful if not better.

"Is there a particular reason you couldn't wait to wake me as soon as you knew I got in eight hours of sleep?"

"Absolutely." Covering her with his body he murmured, "I have plans…big plans."

"Oh really." Placing her hands on his shoulders she sighed, "Care to give me a hint?"

"You want to know my grand plan?" Bringing his mouth to her shoulder, he slid the spaghetti strap of her pajama top and dropped butterfly kisses as he spoke. "I want to do something with you…it's one word…it ends in 'ing'…"

"Hmm…" Apparently now that he knew he could, he wanted to get in a little more ravaging.

"It's quite a workout, and when we're done we'll be…hot…sweaty…and exhausted. I want it so bad I can't waste another minute talking about it." With that he bolted out of bed. "Hiking! So get your cute little butt out of bed and get a move on. The Grand Canyon is losing a little of its grandeur every minute." Her stunned expression made him laugh. "What? Did you expect to be ravaged this morning, Darlin? Sorry…never a good idea to ravage before a big football game or a big hike." A second later a pillow slammed him in the face. "Is that some kind of foreplay?"

Marching towards the bathroom she teased, "You better watch your smart ass, Tex."

When she stepped into the bathroom he quipped, "Roxie, I think we both know you prefer to watch my ass."

"That's it!" Rushing from the bathroom she plowed into him using her full body to complete the surprise tackle.

"Nice sack, Sweetheart!" He chortled when he hit the mattress and she straddled him. "Hey! I know what's going on here…you're trying to incite me to ravage!" Laughing, he locked his arms around her and flipped her on her back, claiming the top spot. "It's working."

"Are we wrestling or ravaging?" She taunted before reversing their positions again. "You're doing your old 'gotta be on top' thing again."

"Sorry…how about this?" He rocked their bodies so they were on their sides facing each other. "Number five."

In a sultry tone she announced, "There are two things I want to do first."

"Really?" He eyed her curiously, ready for anything. "What?"

Continuing her seduction she purred, "They end in 'ing' …I'll feel so good afterwards…but you'll have to lie there while I do them without you."

"Without me?" He continued staring. She was clearly determined to prove she had no inhibitions remaining, and suddenly he wondered if she had gone shopping for more than western wear the other day. He knew there was at least one adult store in Flagstaff. "Um…okay. Do you just want me to watch or…"

"No way!" Jumping out of bed she started laughing hysterically. "Because I'll be brushing and peeing in the bathroom. HA! Gotcha! I'm not sure I even know what you thought I was about to do." A moment later a pillow smacked her in the back of the head. "Oh, that's original." With that she shut the bathroom door.

"When you finish in there, Sweetheart…" Nick yelled as he rolled off the bed. "…you'll find me out here dressing for hiking."

Opening the door she informed him. "In that case, I'll be showering too."

As soon as she shut the door Nick grabbed his cell phone and rapidly punched in a number. Three rings later he bellowed, "Do ya miss me?"

"Slick!" Warrick answered enthusiastically. "Where are you calling from! I hope it's not the psych ward."

"Very funny." Nick glanced in the full length mirror on the closet door to see if he still looked as relaxed as the previous night.

"Seriously, are you chillin?"

"I'm in the zone, Man! This honeymoon practice is really agreeing with me." With a spring in his step he headed for the bed. "And last night Carrie surprised me with second row seats to the Diamondbacks – Mets game. Did you catch the score?"

"I wish." Warrick released a labored sigh. "Nah, since I came home I've been too busy dealing with the estrogen manufacturers living under this roof."

"Since I grew up drowning in a house full of estrogen, forgive me for not breaking out my violin. And I didn't have a choice, Man…I was born into a house full of monthly broom-riders. You signed up for the torture, so stop complaining."

"Hold up! I'm putting Cath on the phone and you need to tell her what you just told me."

"What?" Nick stared at his cell and waited.

"Hey, Cowboy," Catherine snickered. "Have you lassoed any little ladies lately?"

He couldn't resist joking. "Two actually…Carrie, of course, and this really hot co-ed named Missy, who coincidentally looked a lot like Carrie. Things got really weird though when this stripper named, Sapphire, tried to join in the party. She decked me because I wouldn't sleep with her too. I don't know about you, but I draw the line at threesomes because, four in a bed makes things far too complicated."

"Right, Mr. Monogamy." She cracked up. "Is this why Warrick made me get on the phone? Because I was just saying you and Carrie had the best shot of living happily ever after? We don't have any money riding on it so…"

"Hey, thanks for that vote of confidence." Smiling he said, "No, he wanted me…a guy forced to live with five sisters, to tell you that no man in his right mind would live with two overly-hormonal women when he could be out playing the field, unless he had a really good reason for living in Estrogen Alley…I can't speak for his reason though."

"Point taken. Here's your buddy back."

Pleased Nick propped his argument Warrick cheerily greeted, "Thanks, Pal. So, tell me about the ballgame."

Crashing against the rumpled sheets Nick reported, "The Mets pulled it out in the eleventh with a squeeze play and the win moved them into first place. It was sweet. The whole day was great."

"You sound as happy as a freshman at his first Spring Break wet t-shirt contest."

Recalling Carrie in her wet t-shirt he exclaimed, "I am!" When he saw the bathroom door was still shut he quietly joked, "Here's what I've learned on my summer vacation…if instead of working everyday, I could lounge around in my skivvies, watch ESPN, drink beer, and fornicate with my woman, I wouldn't have a stress problem."

"Why the hell do you think the lottery is so successful? Every guy wants to live out that dream."

"Arizona is a Powerball state and it's up to 155 million for this Saturday…" He chuckled. "I'm buying a bunch of tickets so when I win, I can continue to live the lifestyle I've grown accustomed to in the last forty-eight hours."

"In case you don't win, let me clue you in. Why the hell do you think Cath and me take those three-day vacations every couple of months? All we do is check into one of the resorts and lose ourselves for a few days. There's nothing wrong with you, Man. You just needed a break and some quality time with your woman."

He appreciated the vote of confidence and sobered. "Thanks Man. There's a little more to it than that but…this is helping a lot and I'll have my shit together soon."

"Tell me…did Carrie break out the little surprise Cath gave her yet?"

"What surprise?" He sat up and glanced around the room wondering what it could be. "No. What is it?"

"I'm not telling." Laughing hard he said, "You'll know it when you see it, Chief."

"Fine…you know me, I love surprises." Nick quickly shifted gears so he wouldn't obsess over trying to guess. "Let's talk about why I really called. How's Greggo doing? I want to check in with him later, but I'd rather know the score first. Is he okay?"

Desert Springs Hospital
Surgical Recovery Ward
9:33 a.m.

As Brass walked down the hospital corridor with Greg he asked in a concerned tone, "Are you sure you're up for this, Greg? This isn't a job requirement. You can say no."

"I'm cool," Greg replied as he waited outside Debra Hughes' room. "If it were my mom looking for some peace of mind, I'd want her to get it. Mrs. Hughes has to be suffering knowing Tucker raped and killed Brittany Thomas and put that police officer into a coma. Wanting to see that I'm okay is understandable. And, she tried to save me…both literally and spiritually. She's a good person. If this will help her, I want to do it."

Before forging ahead Brass took a minute to assess Greg. "How are you feeling? How's your back?" He lowered his voice. "How's your head?"

"My back is feeling much better today, thanks. My head…it's a work in progress." Greg ran his fingers through his uncharacteristically tame hair. "I have a mental health recovery plan. I can't have my supervisor authorize it though, because he's out on leave getting himself back together." Concerned he inquired, "Have you heard from Nick? Is he doing okay? I wanted to call him yesterday, but didn't want to disturb him if he was relaxing." Greg smiled. "Sometimes I make him a little tense."

"Shocking!" Brass returned the smile thinking a little levity was good before they got a heavy dose of angst from Mrs. Hughes. "Come to think of it, Nick was fine until you started working for him a few weeks ago. What the hell did you do to him?"

Greg appreciated the calm before the emotional storm awaiting him in Mrs. Hughes' room. "Very funny."

"It's no secret I'm a funny guy." Patting Greg on the back he said, "Hey, if you really want to see me in rare form come by Macaluso's Restaurant tonight at seven-thirty. Heather and I will be dining there with Mr. and Mrs. Grissom."

"Now that's shocking!"

"Tell me about it." He shook his head, still wondering if he should have declined. "Okay, now that we've released a little tension, let's replenish it." Brass knocked on the patient's door then cracked it slightly. "Mrs. Hughes? Jim Brass again, I have Greg Sanders with me now. Is this still a good time?"

"Yes," She weakly replied from her bed. "Please."

Greg grabbed Brass's arm. "You're coming with me right?"

"You bet."

"Okay." After a deep breath Greg entered the room. "Hello, Mrs. Hughes." She was hooked up to several monitors. Brass had told him she had surgery to repair the damage done by the two bullets Tucker shot into her back. "How are you feeling?"

The heartbroken woman lifted her shaky hand. "Come closer…let me see you're really okay."

"I really am." With Brass only a step behind Greg went to the edge of the bed.

"And your wife and future babies?" Tears spilled from her eyes. "The stress of this didn't…"

"They're fine. You know what…" Reaching into his back pocket he produced the photo of himself and Tawny that they printed off the computer that morning. "This was taken yesterday. See…she's okay. She's a really strong person. Much stronger than me actually."

"She's a beautiful girl." Mrs. Hughes held the picture in one hand and wiped her tears with the other. "Your mother must be so proud of you. You're such a responsible young man…working for the police department, married and with two babies on the way. Where did I go wrong with my Tucker? Why won't he have this life?" Handing the photo back she sniffled. "He needs help. If he gets help…if he gets his medicine...maybe in prison he'll be able to…" Overcome with emotion she sobbed, "Thank you for not killing my boy, Mr. Sanders. Thank you for showing him mercy. I know you said you weren't a religious man, but you are living The Word."

Even though he was highly uncomfortable, Greg stuck it out. Reaching for the tissue box on the table nearby, he offered it to the weeping woman. "Here…uh…do you want some water too?"

Brass stepped over and filled a cup. As bad as things were with Ellie at least she had only been harming herself all this time, not innocent people. He couldn't imagine how horrible it must feel to know your child is a cold blooded killer. "Here you are, Mrs. Hughes."

"Mrs. Hughes…" Greg wrestled with his conscience. "There's something you should know. I…uh…I lied to you about something the other day. I'm not married…well, not yet. I will be soon. Tawny is having my babies, but it wasn't planned…we weren't even in a relationship at the time they were conceived, it happened the first day I met her. I lied because I knew you were a religious woman and I didn't want to offend you, and honestly...I was really tired that day and didn't want a lifestyle lecture."

Brass stared at Greg, wondering why he felt compelled to tell the woman the truth now.

Greg nervously shifted at the side of the woman's bed. "My mom…she's a school teacher, and a really good person. She raised me to know the difference between right and wrong and she loves me…but that didn't prevent me from making mistakes in life. I'm responsible for my actions, not my mom. Like she did with me, you did the best you could with Tucker and everything you did was out of love. You're not responsible for what Tucker did, and you can't solve what's wrong with him. He's sick and he needs professional help."

Jim Brass stared at Greg in silence, absorbing his words and feeling a little less guilty over Ellie's situation and a bit more reassured over his actions over the past couple of days.

"Thank you, Mr. Sanders." Mrs. Hughes reached out and grabbed his hand. "You're a compassionate man. And your mother should still be proud of you. Most kids today would opt for an abortion in your situation. It's good to know there are still young people who don't only think of themselves and take the easy way out. Even though my son would like me to believe it, you weren't spared in my basement because you were unchurched. No…you were spared because you have a good heart." Squeezing Greg's hand she whispered, "You were so scared that day, Mr. Sanders and I know why. The question is, will you be the next time you hear death calling your name?"

Greg swallowed the lump in his throat. It was as if she was reading his deepest fear, that death was coming for him. "Uh…I…what exactly do you mean?"

Seeing the weight of Mrs. Hughes emotions on Greg's shoulders Brass interjected, "You should really get some rest, now Mrs. Hughes. The nurse said we should only stay five minutes tops."

Mrs. Hughes nodded. "I'll be praying for you, your future wife and your unborn babies."

Desert Springs Hospital
Psych Ward
9:51 a.m.

Sitting up in bed Ellie watched Tawny exiting the bathroom from her latest round of morning sickness. "Why didn't you have an abortion? I had one. I was fine the next day."

"Greg brought it up the day we found out, but told him I couldn't do it." Grabbing her water bottle she gingerly sipped. "Then…when I realized what a nice guy Greg was, and saw how freaked he was getting about having a baby, I told him I would do it if he drove me to the clinic and paid for it." Smiling she caressed the teeny bulge in her abdomen. "Thank God he said no and promised to stand by me and the babies. Since then we fell in love, and soon we'll be a real family. Everything is working out."

"Sounds way too fairytale to me." Slipping down in the bed Ellie groaned, "Damn…I'd kill for a cigarette."

"Rub the nicotine patch. That's what my friend at Tweeters, Dominique did when she was trying to quit. It seemed to help."

Ellie did as told. "Dad says they'll let me smoke at rehab. They don't take everything away…just the drugs and the booze." Staring at Tawny looking radiant in her yellow halter and white shorts she asked, "You ever have a habit?"

"I was heavy into E for a while." She took a seat in the chair next to the bed. "Stopped after the rape because I wanted to be a little more aware of what was going on around me."

"Greg doesn't care you slept with a ton of guys, stripped for a living, popped E and got raped because you were too wasted to know the guy was a bastard?"

Tawny bristled from the truth. "He cares, but not enough to let it get in the way of loving me."

"Because you're pregnant with his kid." Ellie rubbed the patch again. "If it weren't for that do you really think he'd be planning a future with a girl like you? No offense, but come on." Chuckling she stated, "I guess my only hope of finding Prince Charming is to get knocked up by him and trap him."

"Hey! Greg knew we were flying without a net and I didn't trick him into sleeping with me. He begged me to let him after I said no. And just because I wouldn't have an abortion doesn't mean I trapped him! It means I wanted my baby no matter what the circumstances were!" Tawny sat up straight. "It wasn't like that."

"What did his parents say when they found out he got you pregnant? Are they happy about a girl like you joining the family tree?"

"His mom and I get along great." Tawny simmered down a bit. "She even told me to call her Mom."

"And what about Dad?"

"He doesn't know yet." Tawny shifted nervously in the chair.

"Why not?" Ellie grabbed the bag of chips on her side table and started munching.

"Greg's waiting for the right time to tell his dad," She anxiously explained. "We're going out to California next week. He's going to play golf with his dad at their country club and afterwards take him out for a drink and break the news."

"Girlfriend…that smells like trouble to me." She took a moment to chomp. "I live in LA…country club daddies don't like it when their sons knock up girls from the wrong side of the tracks. You know what those daddies have?"

"What?" Tawny listened while knowing she shouldn't.

"The power of veto."

"Not gonna happen," Tawny replied confidently. "Greg and his dad never see eye to eye on things. It's his mother that pulls his strings and she's already on board. She's dying to be a grandma."

"This is the stuff movies are made of!" Ellie sat up and said with concern, "I saw one where this pregnant girl was at her rich boyfriend's ranch. They went out riding horses one morning and the dad secretly startled the horse so the girl would fall off and lose the baby. As soon as the baby was gone, the boyfriend dumped the girl and went out with his old flame…some hot, rich chick with a big time career. The poor girl was so depressed and because she was too embarrassed to return to her old town and life, she became a hooker. On the night of his bachelor party, the guy who dumped her went out with his buddies and he saw her walking the streets!"

"What happened?" Tawny asked, ready for a happy ending.

"Her old boyfriend felt bad and took her to the hospital because she was sick. But it was too late…she was dying. He said he was sorry, but married the other chick the next weekend. While the wedding ceremony was going on, the dumped chick died in the hospital." She rolled her eyes. "Any wonder it tanked at the box office? People don't want to watch reality. They like happy Hollywood endings."

"Well that's what I'm getting! A happy ending!" Having heard enough she stood up. "I know your type! You're trying to scare me!"

"Sorry! Seriously…I didn't mean to piss you off. You asked me about the movie. And I'm just saying what's in my head and, well…I'm a real cynical bitch. I'm sure you're right and Greg is a special guy. He'd never dump you for his old flame like the asshole in the movie." She feigned enthusiasm. "Nice guys have to exist! In a really small proportion. I'm sure they do! And Greg's one of them." When she saw Tawny chill, Ellie joked, "Hey…does he have a brother?"

Ely State Prison
10:00 a.m.

Holding his Bible, Mike Rodgers sat at the conference table across from his brother and new lawyer, Don Schultz. "Don't bullshit me. Tell me yes or no…do you think you can help me?"

Don sat back in his uncomfortable chair and smiled brightly. "The story you told me intrigued me. I did some checking. I think I could help you…for the right price."

Ben Rodgers looked across the table at his brother. "I set everything up overseas like you told me to Mike."

Mike nodded and glanced over at Mr. Schultz. "Name your price." Over the years, he had parlayed the one million dollar insurance policy from his deceased wife into two million. Until now he hadn't spent much. Being a savvy guy, he knew it wasn't a good idea to flaunt insurance money immediately after your beloved's untimely demise. So he did what he did best…waited.

Intelligence and patience are a dangerous combination. Mike had both in spades. As a cop, he learned early on that most criminals are caught because they are impatient. They don't spend enough time thinking up a good plan. They cut corners when they execute their supposedly foolproof idea. And when they're committing their crime, they panic. Consequently, they get sloppy, leaving fingerprints, DNA, tire marks, cigarette butts…and then they get caught.

If it weren't for Gil Grissom, an overzealous and jealous investigator; a bitter whore named Wendy Hatcher Blake; and Nick Stokes, an infuriated ex-buddy with a grudge, Mike knew he would still have a perfect track record and wouldn't be in prison for Samantha Hatcher's death. Twenty four years ago Forensic Scientists weren't called in for hiking accidents, blood spatter pattern analysis sounded as foreign to a jury as witchcraft, and DNA technology didn't exist.

Mike never planned on getting caught. So much time had passed he was stunned when he was arrested for Samantha's murder. He would have forgotten the decades-old crime entirely if it weren't for the memory giving him a rise. He loved reliving it…the feeling of control as he lifted the rock over Samantha's unsuspecting head, the excitement watching the blood drip down her face, the beauty of her careening over the side of the cliff like a bird in flight, and the delicious thud of her lifeless body hitting the ground. One moment she was a potential obstacle, and the next she was history.

The simplicity of it astounded him.

The power he felt afterwards thrilled him.

God wasn't walking the streets determining who lived or died but after that day, but Mike Rodgers was. Because after Samantha's death, he knew exactly how easy it was to take a life…and he couldn't wait to do it again.

After a while though, murder, like any other hobby got boring. One day, Mike decided he needed to make it more challenging, and more lucrative. Therefore he planned to marry his next victim and earn some insurance money. So, he began planning what he figured would take three years to complete from first date to his wife's last breath. His anticipation was so high, the next day, he set out combing the streets for the future dead Mrs. Mike Rodgers. It only took him a month to find her.

Three years later, once Gemma Rodgers was gone and her insurance money was in the bank, the same empty feeing returned. Mike knew he needed a new fix…a new victim…and a new twist.

Feeling a bit nostalgic about his first kill, he moved back to Vegas after being gone for twenty years. Using his gift for patience, Mike went about his business, working, making friends, blending in, and building his reputation as a stellar guy. All the while of course, he was watching, learning, researching and plotting.

It had been nearly a year, when the right girl was suddenly served up on a silver platter…

It was almost midnight when Mike saw Nick Stokes, his favorite drinking and lifting buddy of late, checking the cars in the parking lot of The Flying Aces. Just the other night they had knocked back beers at The San Remo before hooking up with a couple of dancers from Diamond J's for a wild night on the town. The next shift when he saw Nick they swapped war stories, comparing conquests like frat brothers and made plans to carouse again soon.

What Nick didn't know was, he was part of the grand plan. He would be playing the role of the good pal, just like Hal Swanson had in Dallas, and Steve Zamora did in Colorado Springs. In Vegas, Nick would be the friend who would jump to say 'Mike Rodgers is a great guy and a fantastic cop, he'd never hurt anyone!' He specifically selected Nick because he had that close call with a hooker name Kristy some years back.

Mike knew everything about Nick, because he did his research. It was the first rule of excellent planning…always know who you're dealing with and what they have hiding in their closets. Because of the hooker debacle, Nick would know exactly how easy it was for a good guy to be falsely accused, should the scenario arise. The Texas do-gooder was perfect for the role. He grew up in the shadow of a big brother and would love having an older buddy treat him like an equal. They had a lot in common…traditional Midwest upbringings, football, college, lifting, and careers in law enforcement. And Mike knew he'd look great with an honorable guy like Stokes, the son of a Texas Supreme Court Judge, standing at his side. "Hey, Nick!"

"Hey, what's going on?" Nick flashed a smile. "I didn't know you were working this scene."

Mike leaned against the nearest car happy the buddy rapport was firmly in place. "So tell me what happened with your co-worker and my rookie. Whatever she said, the kid is messed up. He wants to turn in his badge to go work security at the mall."

"Sara will be happy to know that." Nick chuckled. "Your guy screwed up on the wrong night with the wrong CSI. There she is. Sara Sidle." He pointed across the parking lot. "She's a great girl but she doesn't have much tolerance for procedural slip-ups; especially not tonight."

With raised eyebrows he watched her working the scene. He immediately wondered, would she be the one? As usual, he did some probing. "Nice looking. Married? Has a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Lesbian?"

Choking on his own laughter Nick replied, "No!"

"Then what's her story, man?" He knew he'd dish because they were buds who bonded over beer and broads. Nick didn't disappoint.

"Sara is…she's really into her work. She doesn't allow herself much time for fun. Today is her birthday and she's just got some stuff on her mind. You know women; they always have to analyze their life on their birthdays. She's hurting a little because she was waiting for a Hallmark greeting that didn't pan out, you know what I mean? Why? Are you thinking of asking her out?"

Mike hid his excitement and sold himself short, knowing it would make his good buddy all the more willing to introduce him to the potential deceased Mike Rodgers II. "I…oh…I have to have ten years on her, do you think…"

Nick chuckled at the moment of insecurity. "Trust me. She likes older guys." Cupping his mouth with his hands he shouted, "Hey, Sara, over here."

He eyed the brown-haired beauty trudging over to Nick.

"What?" Sara barked.

Mike was instantly smitten by her gruff demeanor.

"I want to introduce you to Lt. Mike Rodgers, a friend of mine and…Officer Barnes', supervisor."

Sara ignited. "I hope you got that punk's badge. No one messes with my crime scene!"

In that moment Mike knew it had to be her. He couldn't ask for a better scenario. Sara oozed desperation just like Nick had hinted, and the honorable Mr. Stokes was the matchmaker. Surely he'd never set up his close friend with a bad guy. And what could be more challenging than getting away with murder when surrounded by forensic scientists who dedicate their lives to catching even the most crafty killers! The game was afoot. He knew it would be one hell of a ride, and suddenly Mike was fighting off a visible rise in his trousers.

In the sincerest voice he could muster Mike said, "Ms. Sidle, I completely understand your frustration and Officer Barnes will be reprimanded. We'll put him back behind a desk until he can comprehend the serious nature of your work." Smiling he laid it on thicker. "I on the other hand do understand the importance of your job and thank you for your dedication. Without people like you nailing the bad guys, there would be a lot more creeps out there."

One look at her eyes and he knew the lonely birthday girl bought his bullshit and was hooked. He glanced over at Nick, and saw his pal smiling too. Instantly he knew his buddy would help the relationship bloom, because it was clear, Good Guy Nick wanted Sadsack Sara to meet a nice guy and get over the idiot who ruined her birthday. And when it came to being a nice guy…Mike knew no one played the part better than him. That night, the stars shone a little brighter and Mike breathed a sigh of relief. The players were finalized, the waiting was over. Now the fun could begin.

As Mike drifted back from the memory he thought…It was perfect. Then Gil Grissom ruined everything.

"Mike?" Don knocked on the table to snap the man out of his trance.

"Sorry…thank you, Mr. Schultz," Mike nodded. "I trust you'll earn every penny of that money trying to get me my life back."

"Count on it." He snapped his briefcase closed. "I love a challenge…and I love one even more when I'm being paid handsomely to overcome it. This will take time, so you'll need to be patient."

"Not a problem."

With the monetary arrangements made, papers signed, and hands shook, Don Schultz stood. "I'll be in touch, Mike." Thrilled with the retainer negotiated, he whistled as he walked out of the conference room.

Before his brother would be asked to leave Mike leaned in and asked, "Did you mail the cards?"

"Yeah…" Ben whispered, "And I did like you said…made sure there were no fingerprints or DNA traces of any kind."

"Thanks, Bro." Mike stood when he saw the guard enter and lifted his Bible. "Now if you'll excuse me…it's time for me to pray for a miracle."

Author's Notes:

For those of you that read Gravity, in case the flashback sounded familiar, it has the same dialogue as Chapter 1, but now it was told from Mike's POV. Some snippets from Gravity in case you're fuzzy (or never read it) here's how good Mike was at picking the right people for the right reasons…

Chapter 1 (N to S after Mike leaves The Flying Aces parking lot) – "Hey Sara, Mike may not be a genius but from what I can tell he seems like a good guy; someone who could appreciate you. Hell, it's just coffee. See where it goes. And if he turns out to be an ass you can blame me for introducing you."

Chapter 3 – Catherine waited until Sara was down the hall. "Nicky playing Cupid…very cute."

Chapter 5 (Sara thinking about 'nice guy' Mike) - Standing over her flowers Sara released a heavy sigh. The flowers were pretty and they were the first flowers she had received since…good grief had it really been a decade? So Mike couldn't talk quantum theory. Like Catherine said, they had other things in common and as time went on they would probably find more to share. As for Grissom, he didn't even bat an eye over the flowers. Yes, as hard as it was, it was definitely time to move on.

Chapter 15 – (Nick being told by Grissom and Cath that they suspect Mike killed his wife and Samantha) "Whoa! Whoa! Wait a minute!" Incredulous, Nick asked, "Are you saying you think Mike killed them? Sometimes you have to look beyond coincidences and consider the character of the man, Catherine. Isn't that what you did once, when it looked bad for me? Mike's a good cop and a great guy."

(And then…) Catherine left the bench and stood next to Grissom. "I know you're upset but this isn't helping. Nick isn't to blame; he's just another victim of Mike's deception. He cares about Sara. He never would have set her up if he thought Mike was anything but a great guy."

His voice cracking, Nick said, "I pushed her to go out with him. I can't believe…"

Chapter 19 – (Sara afterwards) - Minutes later, Sara's fear turned to humiliation. "I feel so stupid. Here I am trained to put creeps like him away and I don't even see it coming when it's happening to me."

Next Chapter: Getting It Back - Part 9

Posting: Late Wednesday

Teaser: It's time to have some fun.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for reading and commenting.

Maggs