Laws of Motion – Book 1
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT

Chapter 4

August 29, 2005
Crime Lab
4:58 a.m.

Standing next to Grissom, Nick and Carrie stared at the enhanced image of the greeting card. Finally Grissom said, "Honestly, I'm shocked he waited this long to do something."

"How does he know so much about you?" Carrie posited in reference to the coffee and roaches. "Does he have someone watching you? Or does he still have a friend on the force here?"

Nick set her straight. "Rodgers researches everyone when he's sizing up targets. In hindsight I realized he knew everything about me."

Grissom added, "Manipulation is much easier when you know your prey…especially their likes and vulnerabilities."

"Yeah." For the second time that night Carrie was reminded of her childhood trauma. "The pedophile who abused me had a lot of patience. He got to know everything about me and my family before ever making a move and when he did…I fell for it all." When she felt Nick's arm slip around her waist Carrie sighed, "I just remembered, your mom is an early riser, Nicky. She'll be worried if we're not home when she wakes up and she needs to know what happened to you."

Before Nick could answer, Vartann rushed into the lab. "Hey, I got something on your attacker, Glen Montana. You know that 419 at Conley Park?"

Grissom clarified, "The scene Nina and Trey are processing?"

"Yeah." Vartann leaned against the wall. "The DB was robbed and then shot at close range with a Glock. A homeless guy sleeping in the bushes saw the whole thing play out. His initial description of the perp sounded a lot like Glen Montana. We hauled him in, offering to give him a meal and some new duds. When we showed him photos…he picked out Montana. Trey's on the way in with the bullet for ballistics to see if they came from the same Glock." Vartann held up his cell. "I'm on my way out. I'll call you if I hear anything and vice versa."

Nick felt awful about being optimistic when a civilian was dead but, he couldn't hold back. "So what happened to us could have been a random act of violence? And maybe this greeting card is just a scare tactic around the anniversary and not the beginning of something more."

Grissom threw him a cautious look. "I want that to be true as much as you but…let's wait for the evidence before getting our hopes up."

"Sure, Gris. Sorry." Nick nodded. "When it's personal it's a little harder to remember that."

Grissom knew the feeling all too well. "Uh…since you're not allowed to work, Nick, you should go home and get some rest. I promise I'll call as information comes in."

"He's right." Carrie took his hand. "You really do need to go home. The doctor said to take it easy for a day." Her statement had little to do with him getting rest and everything to do with seeing his mother. "It's time."

Warrick's Tahoe
5:12 a.m.

"You have to be beat, Sara," Warrick stated while waiting in the Java Jungle drive-thru. "I know I am."

"Nope…just starving." Glancing out the window she remarked, "It has to be the baby making me hungry, because normally when I'm stressed I don't eat."

Now that the car in front had advanced, Warrick pulled up to the speaker. "I'll have a jumbo of your brew of the day…cream no sugar and a blueberry muffin. The lady will have…" He motioned for Sara to shout out her order.

"A jumbo decaf vanilla frappucino, a large orange juice, a carrot muffin, a fruit cup and a yogurt parfait. That's all."

"That's all?" Warrick laughed. "You're definitely buying, Mrs. Grissom, because your husband is loaded and I ain't responsible for feeding his kid."

The Townhouse
5:21 a.m.

When Greg emerged from the bedroom dressed in colorful boxers and a grey t-shirt, the first thing he saw was Tawny curled up on the couch reading her poetry textbook. "Couldn't go back to sleep?" He found her incredibly cute wearing one of his t-shirts as a nightshirt and with her hair in a floppy ponytail. "I stirred and realized you weren't there so I came out to check."

"Yeah…" Lowering the book she glanced in the direction of his voice. "I couldn't sleep, but the good news is I'm ahead of my assignments now."

Plopping down on the couch next to her he peeked at the poem she was reading. "Ahhh, Frost…The Road Not Taken…a classic."

"Yeah." Sighing she leaned against his chest. "I have to interpret each stanza and then cite a personal example from my life that mirrors the symbolic nature of the poem."

"That should be easy enough."

"Yeah…my life has been full of forks in the road." She rolled her eyes. "Until now I've always made the stupid choice."

"Well, you're in good company, having made a few stupid ones myself." He tossed his arm around her. "How about I read you the lines, while you write down the interpretations?" Snuggling her closer he confessed, "I always wanted to read poetry to a girl."

Loving his reason, she let him take the book from her hands and readied her pen and notebook.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler…long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth." Lowering the book he asked, "What's your interpretation?"

"He comes to a fork in the road and has to decide which one to take, so he looks down each trying to see which one looks better."

"That's the literal interpretation, now you have to interpret it symbolically." He cringed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so professorial and freak you out again."

Remembering how she snapped at him hours ago Tawny apologized, "Sorry I was so crabby earlier when you offered to help." She wished she had the guts to show him the note from Becca. "Symbolic interpretation, huh?" She pondered the question for a moment and said, "He has two choices in life and is trying to figure out which one would be the best."

"Right."

Suddenly she had an idea, a way to feel him out about the Becca situation. Patting her belly she inquired, "Greg…remember the day I came over and offered to terminate the pregnancy for you. That is a great example of two roads, don't you think?"

"Definitely, but do you really want to put something so personal in a college paper?"

Turning to face him she studied his eyes. "When you were considering the two choices, were you looking down the roads trying to predict the future, like the guy in the poem?"

"Yeah, of course. But now that we're so happy and excited about the babies I feel really guilty that I even considered…"

Cutting him off she asked, "What if you had looked down the roads and saw that in the near future, Becca was going to contact you and say she was in love with you…that she had been for years, and she wanted to get together and live happily ever after with you? Would you have chosen the same road? Or do you think you would have opted to terminate the pregnancy and end our relationship?"

"You're missing the point of the poem," he replied, hoping she'd drop the question. "When he looks down the roads, he can't see very far ahead and has to make a decision based on what's in front of him without knowing where either path will really lead."

Annoyed that he avoided the question she countered, "Seriously…your answer will help clarify something for me…about my assignment. You said you wanted to help."

Closing the book he sighed, "Your question doesn't have anything to do with your assignment, but everything to do with our trip to California and you finding out Becca will be there."

"Why won't you answer it?"

"Because it's a ridiculous and complicated question on multiple levels," he protested.

"It's not complicated, Greg," she pushed. "If ten minutes before I had shown up that day making my offer, Becca called confessing her love for you and the only obstacle in the way of life with your original dream girl was pregnant me, would you have picked the easier path and taken me up on my offer, that's all I'm asking?"

"Fine. Since you're obviously not going to drop it…" Frustrated he sank lower into the couch. "On that day, when I barely knew you…when I was scared to death about being a dad and unsure if we could be happy together because I was positive you'd end up being bored to tears with me…" Squirming, he rubbed his temples. "Is this really necessary?"

"Not anymore." Sadly she whispered, "Because now your answer is obvious."

"It's also honest, which I think is important too." He was quick to point out, "And I still don't know that I would have picked the opposite path, I'm just saying the Becca phone call would have been a strong factor. But not because she's better than you, but because we have a history and therefore she would have been a seemingly safer choice."

She wanted to say, safer compared to a stripper with no education that your dad would think isn't the best addition to the family…but she held her tongue.

Picking up the book he said, "But again…you're missing the point of the poem." Opening to the dog-eared page, he read the last lines, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I…I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference."

"But what kind of difference? A positive difference or a negative one." She pointed to the text. "It says he's saying it with a sigh but it doesn't say what kind of sigh…a sad one full of regret or a happy one as he looks back on the past?"

"The tenor of Robert Frost's sigh in an old poem has no bearing on our lives." Finally losing his patience he snipped, "No matter how I answer these hypothetical questions you're not going to be happy. And Tawny…why are you still asking these questions? Haven't I been crystal clear about my feelings for you and the babies? For cryin' out loud…you know I have a ring in California and a special plan to give it to you. We have a new place together. Every day I tell you how much I love you and how happy I am we're together. Just yesterday we sat at the kitchen counter reading the note I wrote to Gris and Sara and agreed that we're so grateful he introduced us and how happy we are about the babies and…ugh! You're driving me crazy!" Aggravated, he tossed the book on the coffee table and headed for the bathroom. "I'm starting to think I'm having a nightmare."

"Me too," she muttered under her breath.

"Here's a hypothetical for you," he announced a little too loudly from the doorway. "If on that day you found out you were pregnant, you also found out that other guy you slept with in July…the hunky player with the big job and tons of cash who wined and dined you and promised you the moon, wasn't married after all, who would you really have been wishing was the daddy?" When he saw her wince he lowered his voice and said, "See…these hypothetical questions aren't very fun, are they? You can't go back in time, change major elements of the situation and expect the same answer. Time changes everything, and in our case it made all the difference like the damn poem said! A positive difference."

"I'm sorry."

"For what specifically?" He raced his fingers through his hair. "Not believing that I'm happy with my choice and making me feel like you don't trust me? For knowing you would have picked the jock over the geek? Or for pissing me off first thing in the morning when all I wanted to do was snuggle and help you with your damn homework? What?"

Bringing her knees to her chest she quietly answered, "All of the above."

"Apology accepted." Exasperated he puffed out a breath and said, "I'm uh…gonna grab a shower."

"Okay." Once he was gone she smoothed her hand over her belly. "Now we know if Becca had IM'd a month earlier you wouldn't be alive and I'd be living my old life." Sniffling she thought…he says he's content with his choice but the question is….will he still be happy when he finds out Becca is waiting for him just down the road?

Crime Lab
5:32 a.m.

Sitting in her husband's office, Sara picked at the remnants of her breakfast.

Deciding there would be no right time to say it, Gil blurted, "I'm leaving for Ely at six."

Sara stopped in mid-chew and swallowed the piece of pineapple. "I knew you were going to…"

"I'll have a better idea what he's up to if I can see his eyes."

Crashing back against the leather of his guest chair Sara shook her head. "It took you weeks to shake off the tension when you went to see him after the trial."

"I'm in a different place now than I was then."

"So is he." Sara exhaled sharply. "That's what scares me. He's had nothing but time. Time and a brilliant, evil mind are a dangerous combo." She caught her husband's eyes. "He loves playing with your head. I know you hate to admit it but…there are a few people in this world who have been able to successfully mess with your mind. He's one of them."

"I'll tread cautiously." Reaching across his desk he extended his hand in an uncharacteristic show of affection in the workplace.

"I know you're worried if you're going to touch me in the lab."

They shared nervous smiles.

"Be careful," Sara warned as she slipped her hand into his open palm. "What if the whole reason he did this was to get you to come see him?"

"I've considered that possibility." Closing his fingers around her hers he nodded. "That's when I decided I had no choice but to confront him. He may escalate if I don't."

"He may escalate if you do."

In silence they continued the standoff.

Nick and Carrie's Apartment
6:15 a.m.

After waiting twenty minutes for Carrie's car to be released from evidence, the mentally and physically exhausted couple drove home.

Now, standing outside the apartment door, Nick vacillated about going inside. "Maybe you should go in first and see how she's doing this morning?" He suggested. "What if sleeping on it made her…" When he saw Carrie stick her key in the lock he bristled. "Don't you think it would be better if we…" Watching her step inside he tensed. "Apparently you think I should just get in there and stop pussyfooting around." He leaned against the outside wall to pull it together.

After standing outside for a while running through things he could say to his mother, Nick heard her shout...

"What! Thank God you're okay!"

Instinctually Nick flew through the open door. Once inside, his gaze fell upon his mother's horrified expression. "Uh…I guess Carrie told you what happened in the park. Please don't worry…we're both fine."

One look at her boy, who was wounded mentally and physically from confrontations in the last twenty-four hours, Jillian rushed over and threw her arms around his neck. "You don't need to say anything, Nicky. Just let me hold you." Her eyes shut as her embrace tightened. "I just want to hold my baby boy."

Over his mother's shoulder Nick looked at Carrie and when she pointed to the bedroom and mouthed, I'll be showering, he gave a slight nod. He knew she had to get to work that morning for an important meeting with an abused child and his family and she had already done enough counseling his mother the previous night.

Jillian whispered through her sniffles, "I love you, Sweetheart. I'm so sorry I let you down that night and that I didn't figure it out afterwards. I never would have imagined…even now it's hard to fathom."

He gripped her tighter and spoke softly. "I'm sorry I was so nasty to you…I had a plan on how to break it to you but…I haven't been real good about keeping my emotions in check lately and…I love you, Mama." Feeling her hot tears against his cheek he pulled back to wipe them. "Please don't…" The sadness in her eyes killed him. "You've been the best mother and this one thing doesn't change any of that. Being scared about everything changing was one of the main reasons I never told. I didn't want my family looking at me differently. I want the same thing now…I don't want your pity or your guilt. I don't want anything to change between us."

"It's hard to…"

"The only reason I told you was so I could pursue an investigation of her…and so you could understand some of my past actions a little better." Stepping back he admitted, "This is all really uncomfortable for me. What I need you to do is not make it harder for me by getting overly emotional or treating me different." He gave her hands a squeeze. "I need you to snap into that tough as nails courtroom mode."

"Okay." She promptly bit back her tears. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, Nicky."

"Here's one thing." After forcing a smile he warned, "Don't start walking on eggshells around me, because I still need you to kick my ass when I deserve it. What happened in my childhood didn't make it right to sneak off at Wendy's and make loud love to my fiancée in the closet. I deserved your lecture and I intend to follow your advice. Okay?" He drilled his point home with his eyes. "I really want us to just go back to the way things were as quickly as possible."

Clearing her throat she said, "In spite of how much it hurt to hear about what happened to you that night…I'm glad you told me. As a mother, I pride myself on understanding what makes my children tick. Now that you've filled in that blank, the mysteries about your behavior are gone and suddenly everything over the years makes sense…even why you felt compelled to get that matching Rising Phoenix tattoo with Carrie."

"Check it out." Chuckling, he removed his black t-shirt. "The tattoo was temporary…Carrie and I were trying it out for size to see if we wanted real ones. It came off in the hospital when they were cleaning me up. "

Her eyes were drawn to the bandage rather than his un-inked chest. Instinctively she reached out and placed her palm over his wounded arm. "Another few inches that bullet would have hit very close to your heart."

"I think the tattoo deflected it."

"I take it that means you'll be getting a real one?"

"Now more than ever," he proudly informed her. "Finding a reputable place and making appointments for us is on my 'to do' list today."

Attempting to keep her promise not to treat him differently she groaned, "I'm still not pleased."

"Good." Leaning over he kissed her tear-stained cheek. "Because that would take half the fun out of it when I show it off to the family at Thanksgiving. Since it's not a Presidential election year, we'll need a heated topic for the dinner table."

"I know I'm not supposed to treat you different but I'm going to have to ask for clemency when it comes to hugs." She opened her arms. "I'm gonna need a few more than usual for a little while."

"I'll make an exception for hugs." He tossed his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. "In exchange though, I'm going to ask you for something."

"Anything, Honey." She sighed peacefully in his loving embrace and willed herself to return to the normalcy he craved.

"Can you show me how to make French Toast? I want to make it for Carrie before she leaves for work this morning to make up for something stupid that came out at the party yesterday."

Pulling back she glanced up at her son. "I'm sure I'll love this story."

"No you won't." Taking her hand he led her to the kitchen. "I can't wait to tell you so it will feel like old times."

"Does your arm hurt much?" She stood in the middle of the kitchen watching him stare at the open and barren fridge.

"It's still a little numb from the stuff they gave me." He turned and smiled. "Uh…we don't have any eggs, milk, butter or bread."

"I'm afraid that's going to impact the quality of your French Toast, Honey." Shaking her head she teased, "This is what happens when two non-domestic workaholics move in together."

"I'll run to the market on the corner." He darted out of the room.

"Nicky!"

He dashed back into the kitchen.

"How are you fixed for syrup, powdered sugar, vanilla and cinnamon?"

"Uh…" He glanced at the cabinets wondering where those items would be or if he had ever seen them. "I'll get those too."

"Also pick up some orange juice and pecans." Seeing the dazed look in his eyes she offered, "How about I make you a list? If you're anything like your daddy, once I tell him to pick up four things he's overwhelmed."

"He's on the Supreme Court of Texas, Mama."

"That makes him good at remembering legal precedent." Jillian laughed as she grabbed a pen and paper from the counter. "But he's still a man and y'all are hardwired to forget stuff at the store…and to leave your skivvies on the floor."

In the doorway Nick breathed a sigh of relief that the banter and the jokes were still there. "I'm going to check on Carrie while you write that up."

"She's due at work and I'm starving," she announced in a curt tone. "You've got two minutes to get back out here…" Jillian rolled her eyes. "…even you shouldn't be able to accomplish much in that amount of time."

Appreciating her effort he cracked a huge grin. "Yes, ma'am…and thanks for the normalcy."

Crime Lab
6:33 a.m.

With Nina at his side, Warrick strolled into Ballistics. "Yo, Bobby…let's talk."

"You have perfect timing."

"That was fast." Nina exchanged pleased expressions with Warrick.

Bobby grabbed his report. "Hey, let the record show, when the Master Criminalist says ID those bullets ASAP…I'm there." He handed over the file. "Striation patterns never lie. The bullet that hit Nick and the bullet found in the vic at Conley Park were fired from the same unregistered Glock 17."

"Two random acts of violence committed by the same guy." Warrick skimmed the report. "That's good news."

Nina scolded, "Tell that to Mr. Nunez's widow." She glanced over at Bobby. "Nunez is the Conley Park vic. He was on his way home from work…had to walk because he and his wife couldn't afford a car. The wife is seven months pregnant with their first. She's over at County in pre-term labor brought on by the shock."

Feeling bad, Warrick apologized. "Sorry. I meant it was good news in that Montana was a random psycho and now that he is dead it's the end of the line and other folks will be spared." Grabbing his phone he headed out the door. "Thanks, Bobby."

In the hallway Warrick punched in Gris's code and waited.

"Grissom."

"I was hoping to catch you before your plane took off. I just left Ballistics…Vartann was right, the two park incidents were connected."

"Tell me everything you know."

Entering the breakroom he made a beeline for the coffee pot. "Here's how we've pieced it together so far…Montana and his girlfriend get into an argument because it's been two months since she had his kid and he thinks she should be back turning tricks." While filling his mug, Warrick continued, "After knocking her around he took the last of her welfare money to score some crank. Then he comes back, goes a round with the girlfriend and heads out…first to Conley where he robbed Mr. Nunez and then onto to Stevenson two hours later where he attacked Nick and Carrie. We don't know where he was for the two hours in between but we'll figure it out. Thoughts?"

"I'm still not ruling out Rodgers."

The statement stopped Warrick in mid-sip. "What?"

"Like you said, we don't know where Montana was for the two hours prior to surprising Nick and Carrie. What if he was stalking Carrie or Nick?"

"He didn't have a car so…"

"He made them think he didn't have a car."

"I'm just giving you the initial findings." Warrick leaned against the wall. "We still have work to do."

"And so do I."

The Townhouse
6:46 a.m.

After drying her hair and slipping into a denim skirt and a lemon yellow chemise, Tawny went to find Greg. They hadn't exchanged two words since their tense ones earlier that morning and she was anxious to end the silence.

When she didn't find him in the living room or kitchen she continued down the hall. Suddenly realizing he was most likely in the office, fear shot through her body as she took off. "Greg!" she called out in the doorway when she saw the AOL screen. "What are you…"

"Don't freak out…please."

Her hands raced to her head. "What were you looking at? Why did you close the screen when you saw me?"

Busted, he confessed, "I was surfing for information on pregnancy-induced anxiety because I'm worried about these 180's you're having…one minute you believe me and the next you don't." Standing up he reached for her hand. "You're scaring me and I'm worried."

"I'm scaring…pregnancy-induced anxiety?" She took a moment to be thrilled that he hadn't been IM'ing with Becca and then she let her irritation show. "Maybe I wouldn't be quite as anxious if you weren't taking me to California and making me lie to your dad's face…or meet a bunch of new people that out class me…or if I didn't have to worry about impressing your friends, including your original dream girl. Did you ever think of that?" Stuffing her hands on her hips she pointed out, "I'm anxious because I'm about to be thrust into an anxiety-causing situation." Of course, there was a little more to it but she couldn't tell him until after she spoke to Dr. Myers about how to handle it. "I'm not losing my mind, Greg. I'm just an overly hormonal woman dealing with a lot of heavy stuff."

"I didn't think you were losing your…wait…you know what I think…" He released her hand and a labored sigh. "Neither of us has been working and we've spent an extraordinary amount of time together this past week…the most time we've ever spent together. Add to that all the stress we're under and…we're getting cranky." Nodding he added, "I'm an only child and a guy who lived on his own until last month. I'm used to having a space. It's just a little cabin fever."

"I'm smothering you?"

"We're smothering each other."

This latest tidbit only fueled her insecurity. "Good thing we have a four-hour drive to California and seven days of vacation to look forward to...I'm sure all that quality time will help the smothering issue."

More conflicted than ever he quietly asked, "Are you saying I shouldn't ask for space when I need it?"

"No, I'm not saying…" Holding her head she stared at the floor. "I'm sorry…again. Uh…if you need space, you could go for a walk before your appointment with Dr. Myers at eight." Stepping forward she slipped her arms around his neck. "I promise I won't follow you and badger you with hypotheticals…and I promise when you see me after my appointment with Dr. Myers later today that I'll be able to clear some stuff up once and for all."

Gently placing his forehead against hers he whispered, "Everything will change in California. Think of this tension between us as the storm before the calm." He sweetly kissed her forehead. "Now, I'm going to take that walk before my appointment and I'll probably stay out for a while after my session."

"Take all the time you need." She didn't mind because she needed space too.

Nick and Carrie's Apartment
7:09 a.m.

"Wow." Carrie removed her napkin from its place on her lap and smiled at Nick. "I don't know if it was the near-death experience last night or what but…that was without a doubt the best French Toast I've ever had." Unable to resist the tease she added, "Way better than the mornin' after the lovin' omelet…even the special version that you make me…the one with stuff chopped up in it and cheese not just on top for show."

Winking at his mother Nick said, "Looks like Grandma McGregor's Maple Pecan French Toast recipe did the trick."

Carrie giggled, and restrained herself from pointing out that his feminine side was shining through again.

"I had my doubts about this breakfast." Jillian laughed as she stood to clear the dishes. "Well only in your ability to cook it, Nicky, not in the recipe itself."

Under the table Carrie placed her hand on Nick's knee and smiled, proud of him for making it through another difficult part of confronting his past. "Thanks for the delicious breakfast, Honey." Leaning in she covered his mouth with a maple syrup flavored kiss. "I'm going to gather my things and get ready to head to the office."

"I'm driving you."

From the tone of his definitive statement Carrie knew there was no arguing. "Great, I'll pick a CD for the ride." She waved at Jillian. "Thanks for giving Nicky the cooking lesson. My favorite dinner is Chicken Cordon Bleu, maybe if you have a recipe you could leave it lying around and he'd go for it."

Carrie's smile stayed with her as she walked into the bedroom. Although she knew Jillian was still hurting, she was doing an excellent job of presenting the status-quo façade her son needed and Carrie felt the ordeal was going better than predicted. Of course, she also knew Nick was temporarily seeking refuge on this oasis of forced normalcy before taking the next big step.

He had asked his mom not to share the news with his father just yet because he needed a little more time. Although Jillian agreed, Carrie knew fulfilling the request was difficult for her. Not only did the woman find it uncomfortable to keep something so serious from her husband, she needed a soft place to fall and let out the emotion she was trapping inside for Nick's benefit.

As Carrie picked up her papers from her desk, she remembered they hadn't sifted through any of the mail they'd grabbed from the box after arriving home from their trip. Looking at the pile, she decided to sort it quickly and bring hers to work to read if she had a free minute. Although, without any sleep logged, she imagined any extra time would be spent powernapping at her desk.

Sifting through the letters, magazines and junk mail, a pink envelope caught her eye. It appeared to be a greeting card and the post mark was from Seattle, Washington. At the seal was a sticker of a bride and groom and the words, 'Congratulations! I just heard the news!' were scrawled over the back of the envelope in lavender ink. She had sent her friend Darlene a copy of the engagement notice a couple of weeks ago. Carrie's smile widened at the thought of her engagement news spreading around her old office.

"Ready?" Nick asked from the doorway.

"Yep." Carrie snatched her pile from the hastily sorted mail, stuffed it into her briefcase and then slung it over her shoulder. "Ready!"

Dr. Myers Office
8:01 a.m.

When the doctor's door opened Greg jumped up from his position on the plush waiting room couch. "Thank god!"

In the doorway of her office Dr. Myers smiled. "Well now…we've come a long way since your first visit when you didn't want to talk to me." She headed for her desk. "I take it you have something weighing heavily on your mind?"

"I brought a new book with me and my own candy." He tossed his newly purchased copy of The Poetry of Robert Frost on her desk and then held up the two bars…an Almond Joy and a Mounds.

"Let me guess." The doctor relaxed in her chair and sang the familiar candy jingle. "Almond Joy's got nuts, Mounds don't, because…sometimes you feel like a nut…and sometimes you don't."

He waved the Almond Joy. "Tawny is driving me crazy!" Then he thrust the Mounds forward. "Tawny keeps me sane!" Plopping into a guest chair he groaned, "I think we're both schizophrenic and until now we were just lucky that our mutually agreeable personalities have always shown up on the same day."

"Take a deep breath for me, Greg." The doctor picked up the book. "Since the dawn of time, every guy in a new relationship has had that feeling."

"I had my worst nightmare yet." He bit into the Almond Joy and voraciously chewed.

Dr. Myers grabbed her whiteboard markers. "Want to work it out on the whiteboard? That seemed to work well for you last time."

After stuffing the last of the candy bar in his mouth he took the pack of pens. "Okay…get ready for the freak show that is my subconscious life."

Ely State Prison
8:07 a.m.

After signing the visitor log, Gil clipped on his visitor badge.

"It'll be about ten minutes, Dr. Grissom," the uniformed woman behind the desk informed him. "Take a seat in the waiting area and I'll call you when it's time to escort you back."

"Thank you." Gil did as asked and sat in the nearest uncomfortable metal chair. Normally when visiting a prisoner to elicit information he'd run through the list of predictable questions and scenarios, but he knew that would be an exercise in futility today. If there was only one thing he could be certain of when it came to Mike Rodgers, it was his unpredictability, because his mind was a complex and frightening place.

Dr. Myers Office
8:14 a.m.

Staring at the lists Greg had rapidly written on her white board she reached for her intercom button. "Marge?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Did you fill that nine o'clock opening?" Gil Grissom had left a message earlier that morning canceling his session.

"No luck yet."

"Don't. Greg needs a double." Releasing the button she sighed, "That's a lot of subtext for one nightmare."

Capping the markers he chuckled, "Apparently I'm gifted not only in math, science, music and impregnation, but nightmares too."

"Which part do you want to tackle first?"

"The Becca part," he answered without hesitation. "Because suddenly, ever since she found out Becca would be at the club, Tawny is really worried about meeting her."

"Do you think Tawny is worried about meeting Becca or do you think she's worried about you seeing Becca? And if so, is her concern valid?" While Greg pondered, Dr. Myers said, "A few things in this nightmare made me ask those questions. In the nightmare, after you hear Becca say she can't wait to see you, you hurry to shut the door so Tawny doesn't hear."

"Because even though it's an innocent conversation, she'll get jealous," he responded. "I wanted to spare her."

"Still…you're hiding something from her and secrets in a relationship aren't healthy…we've covered that when discussing your parents marriage."

"Fair enough." He settled into the comfy chair and listened.

"Next Becca reiterates how much she needs you like old times and you call her on it, reminding her that in the past, every time you healed her she turned to another guy."

"She was brutal!" Greg explained, "I can vividly remember several occasions where I was positive it was going to happen between us and she backed out at the last second. I mean her body pressed to mine and only a breath away from kissing, she'd pull away."

"In your nightmare she has an explanation for that…she believed you were gay and didn't want to embarrass herself by kissing you."

"And in the nightmare I tell her I'm not…that I even tested my theory." He laughed at the idea. "Maybe I should have Hodges sign an affidavit of my squicked-ness after kissing him so I can show it to her when I'm out there."

"Hmm…why do you care if she believes you about your sexuality if you don't want her to think of you sexually?"

"Huh?" He didn't want to understand where she was coming from, but did.

The doctor leaned into the conversation. "Maybe Tawny is sensing that you need to prove something to Becca when you're out there. You told me your mom took Tawny shopping so she'd look as beautiful as possible on your arm. You bought Tawny diamond earrings so she'd fit in at the club. Tell me, Greg…have you imagined the look on Becca's face when you show up with beautiful, bodacious Tawny at your side?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean…ugh…" He slouched a little lower in the chair and droned, "But if it's motivated by a desire to make Becca jealous, then it means that I still care what she thinks, which of course makes Tawny believe I still...ugh…yeah…I get the picture." He covered his face with his hands. "And then I go and honestly answer that hypothetical question this morning and now she really must think…" He slapped his forehead. "Sometimes, for a genius, I'm really stupid."

"No, you'rereally human." The doctor leaned back in her chair again. "What do you think will happen if Becca sees you with Tawny, realizes that you are interested in girls and suddenly sees you in a whole new light? What would you do if she cozied up to you in California…bringing up all those sweet memories you shared over the years and activating that longing you still have inside you?"

"It's not still inside me."

"So, you're telling me fifteen years of deeply rooted desire just evaporated two months ago when you met Tawny?"

After gulping he replied, "Yes."

"Then why is Becca haunting you in your sleep? Why is your new fantasy that she wants you so much she demands you leave Tawny? Why in the nightmare is she so sure she'll get her way?" The doctor kept needling, "And why did you shut that bedroom door so Tawny wouldn't find out what you were doing in bed secretly with Becca…even though it was just talking?"

"Look…it's not my fault Tawny planted the thought in my subconscious by stressing about Becca right before I fell asleep." Getting testy Greg snipped, "I don't care if Becca shows up, tears off her clothes and throws herself at me, I wouldn't cheat on Tawny if that's what you're insinuating. Yes, she was my old fantasy, but now I'm with Tawny and I'm content."

"Ooh." The doctor stood and rounded her desk to take a seat next to Greg. "Two things scare me there, Greg…your defensiveness and the use of the word 'content'. Do you know the Webster's definition of the word content? It's…to be happy with one's lot. I think that's what scaring Tawny…the feeling that you've accepted your lot and are making the best of it but, she's afraid while visiting home, you'll be reminded of what you used to want and perhaps lose that contented feeling."

"I'm just gonna cancel the trip."

"Oh!" Dr. Myers brought her hands to her heart. "Avoidance, Greg? Avoidance! Are you trying to break my heart?"

Even though he didn't want to, he chuckled.

"If you think Tawny is paranoid about you seeing Becca…if you cancel the trip to avoid seeing her, Tawny will really panic."

Downtrodden, he asked, "I don't suppose I could go into the witness-protection program without being accused of avoidance again, huh?"

"How about using the trip to California to break the fifteen year old spell?"

"Um…" Uncertain of what she meant exactly he asked, "Could you um…expound on that point?"

"Certainly. Here's what could happen if you don't confront this hold she has on you right now" Switching to a maternal tone the doctor counseled, "It's a year from now…you and Tawny are dog-tired from dealing with newborn twins and wondering when the last time you had sex or a conversation was. You run into Becca…Becca with the intellectual job, fabulous body, salon-perfect hair…and all she fawns over you. That spell she has on you is going to be a formidable enemy to your marriage. You'll look at carefree Becca whose shirt isn't covered in baby drool and think wow…I remember when Tawny used to be that relaxed, sexy, and into me. You'll look at her with the weary eyes of a husband who has been working his ass off to provide for his family, a husband who hasn't slept well in months and just got an earful from his stressed-out wife about the trash or the bills and you'll say…"

Greg averted his eyes.

"Well…we don'tknow what you would say in that situation but…" Dr. Myers grabbed the Frost poetry book off the desk and tapped it. "That's a fork in the road many married men face. Considering the divorce rate in this country due to infidelity, I think we both know which road they're taking half the time…and with whom did some of those men escape the monotony?"

"Tawny." The sobering reality check appreciated, Greg nodded. "So, while I may find it hard to believe, she doesn't."

"She watched them leer at her nightly, Greg."

"Yeah…and some of them lied to her about being married and having kids. They took her out and wined, dined and bedded her without guilt." Reconnecting with his therapist's eyes he nodded. "I get it, thanks."

"Good." Her eyes moved to the whiteboard. "What nightmare element do you want to discuss next…Mom, Dad, Tucker Mifflin or death?"

"Actually, I'd like to talk about my childhood comfort item for a minute. Do you think there's anything wrong with a boy having a stuffed donkey named Mr. Peebles?"

"No."

"Do you think there's anything wrong about the boy's mom keeping it in a custom-made plexiglass box in the family room now that he's grown?"

"Yes, I think your mother has transferred her feelings for you onto Mr. Peebles and is doing with him what she wishes she could do with you…keep you locked away and under her control."

"That's so screwed up."

"You can unscrew it."

"Yeah…but can I do it without screwing my mom?"

"Uh…"

"Oh!" Realizing what he just said Greg clarified, "I meant without screwing up my mom…as in breaking her heart and ruining her happiness. It was so not a Freudian slip or a…hey! Stop staring at me like that! I'm messed up but I'm not a freak."

"Okay, Hamlet." Dr. Myers broke into laughter. "Just kidding."

"You had me going."

"It's the poker face…I won a huge pot over the weekend at Caesar's."

Ely State Prison
8:24 a.m.

Gil sat at the table channeling every ounce of strength in his being to appear calm, cool and collected even though he was rioting with panic on the inside. How would he look? How would he react? The game was pointless but he played it to pass the time.

The cold, gray room in which they were to meet brought no comfort…it matched his uneasy mood like a glove. Breathe, he reminded himself…deep, cleansing breaths. Don't let him see you sweat. Don't show fear in your eyes. It's like a poker, he thought…and he knew his opponent was already an excellent reader of his tells.

The buzzer startled him and Gil jumped to his feet, anxious to see his foe's initial reaction.

"Gil…" Mike greeted him with a brotherly smile. "This is such a surprise." As always, he wasted no time moving in for the kill. "How are you? How's the job? How's your pregnant wife?" It was a hunch but he quickly found confirmation in Gil's eyes. "Are you hoping for a boy or a girl…or are you one of those people who hope it's just born alive and well?" While the guard shackled him to the chair, Mike beamed with satisfaction because even though only forty two seconds had passed, Gil was already squirming and wishing the visit was over. Locking eyes with the rattled man Mike puckishly inquired, "Did you miss me?"

Author's Notes:

Teaser for chapters 5-9: It's a new day and there will be plenty of action by the stroke of midnight! In chapter 5 specifically, you'll see the entire Gris/Mike visit along with Tawny's visit to Dr. Myers and a few surprises…

Next chapter posting: Sunday morning 8/28

As always, thanks to everyone for reading!

MistyJ thanks for your comments on the last chapter. I'm glad you are enjoying the story. :-)

Maggs