Grissom's hand was pressed to his forehead, the flashlights blurring in his vision. He heard voices but couldn't hear, saw faces but didn't register. People were speaking to him, but he wouldn't answer.

He was watching the plants flicker softly under the fan from the heater in the greenhouse and,

…thinking.

Where had he missed something? His brain went back to the beginning. Putting Nick in charge of collecting from Mrs. DeMonte was a mistake. He got the distinct feeling they had stepped in the middle of something, and someone grabbed the opportunity to enlist an outside pawn. Someone incredibly adept at reading personalities, and manipulating them for their own needs.

He'd played Nick right into someone's hands, and he knew exactly whom that was.

Sara's eyes had fresh tears in them as she panned her light, illuminating a bright blue spatter pattern on the cement floor in front of the potter's table.

"I was really hoping that wasn't blood," Catherine said quietly, swallowing. "Please tell me that's not Nick."

Ecklie's face was also dark, his presence on the scene signaling the enormity of the situation. He'd accompanied them in silence since Grissom told them of Nick's cryptic findings.

They exchanged looks.

"I got something," Warrick said sharply as he walked into the greenhouse with determined strides. "I found this in the house," he said, handing Nick's ID to Grissom. "It was laying on Mrs. DeMonte's pillow," he annunciated sharply. "No prints except Nick's."

Gil ran his gloved thumb over it thoughtfully, looking around the greenhouse, to the potter's table that was now missing a drawer and its contents, to the splatter of blood on the floor.

"Grissom?" Sara asked.

"Gris?" Warrick echoed.

"I'm thinking," he suddenly quipped, his eyes distant. He was pacing over the scene, shining his flashlight around over and over. "In survival courses, they tell you during an attempted abduction to always fight, claw, kick and scream because once you are taken to the second location, you will almost never walk away alive."

Sara's face scrunched, the back of her hand on her lips as if she was about to throw up.

"Usually the second location is where the real crime takes place, then they kill the victim to hide the crime. My question is, what benefit would our criminal get by taking Nick to a second location?"

"You think he's still alive?" Warrick asked.

"Why kill someone and then leave his ID badge in plain sight? He's alive. He was taken for a reason. He presented an opportunity for someone to get what they wanted, and I played him right into it."

"You can't be serious," Catherine said softly to him, her hands on her hips as she turned to him. "You can't think this is your fault."

"There has to be something here," Sara said, sniffling slightly and shining her flashlight around the room again.

"There isn't," Grissom said calmly. "We won't find anything here, we're stuck between people that don't exist. They walk next to us everyday and never blip on our radar because they have an agenda that doesn't include us."

"Until we're on their doorstep," Warrick said.

"Or in their foyer," Sara finished.

Grissom cleared his throat, "Nick is bait. His ID is a message, and I know exactly who it's intended for."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The knock at the door was insistent; she finished rubbing her elbow and stood up. This was her ride. She was waiting patiently for her clearance to 'witness protection'. Ecklie was signing off, closing all records to his employees. Several more moments and she would be out of these people's lives forever, soon she'd be just a closed case and they'd move on to another. She finished pulling on her clothes, jeans and small black tee shirt, her hair into a ponytail and slid a bobby pin over both ears to hold back scarlet locks that had already sprung loose. Her hand rested on her sore shoulder as she looked up to see the uniform opening it to Grissom.

They were arguing quietly.

"I don't care about protocol, I need to see Kara… I need to see Mrs. DeMonte."

"Do you have clearance?"

"He doesn't need clearance," Ecklie said quietly, stepping behind Grissom.

"Ma'am," the uniform nodded to her, opening the door to let them in.

"Nick's missing," was all Grissom said as he stepped in. "And this was on your pillow at the mansion." He held up the badge.

She frowned, fingers unconsciously rubbing on her elbow.

"I assumed you'd understand," his voice was terse. "Does your elbow hurt, Mrs. DeMonte?"

She met his eyes. Grissom's were dark, he was angry, scared, and asking someone he didn't know if he could trust to save a dear friend's life. Her eyes offered no comfort; they were cold, calculated and unforgiving.

Picking up an ace bandage from the side chair, she expertly wrapped her elbow in a crosshatch pattern as she watched him the entire time; unspoken answer to his question, unspoken answer to his suspicion. He had picked up on her musings, and he was disgusted by it.

"A moment please," she glared at Ecklie and the uniform.

Grissom nodded to them, and they left, closing the door softly.

"Did you intentionally draw Nick into this?" Grissom asked almost immediately.

She pressed her lips together, letting him vent.

"Or did you just use him because you knew he would help you and he was convenient?"

They stared at each other.

"We both have jobs to do, we do what we can within our power in order to do them," she pulled on a pair of black boots and yanked her jean cuffs down over them.

"I don't believe you," he said softly.

Her jaw set. She crossed her arms.

"You feel guilty about what happened to Nick." He noted her crossed arms. "People cross their arms when they're defensive. This didn't go exactly according to plan for you did it?"

"Nothing ever does," she whispered, a sarcastic half smile taught on her lip.

"You have to bring him back," his face was unreadable.

"That's the plan," she nodded once, understanding the consequences. Grissom didn't know what he was asking, and she didn't have the heart to tell him. She would accept the penalty of her failure.

"I need your truck," she said gently, sliding on a coat. She knocked twice on the door.

It opened.

Ecklie nodded to Grissom, curt features set in a permanent scowl. Ecklie sighed sharply, motioning for Grissom to move. He replaced Grissom at the door; a hard look down his nose.

"I don't like feds screwing up in our vicinity," he said succinctly, loud enough for only her to hear. "It looks bad on us."

Warrick and Sara were watching from the end of the hall..

"She's getting an earful," Warrick said under his breath. "No one is immune from him."

"Wait…" Sara said softly. "Look at her body language. She creeps me out… she looks like she could tear Ecklie's head off."

"I think I said something like that to Nick," Warrick commented.

Kara's face was sharp as she stared at Ecklie, standing in his personal space, their noses almost touching.. "Is that so," she said, irritated. A curt smile was burned into her features.

"You knowingly endangered members of my team. My report to your superiors will reflect your failure to protect them," Ecklie finished harshly.

"Ecklie, this isn't the time," Grissom said. "She needs a vehicle, she is responding to the goad from the people who have Nick. She's bringing him back."

"No… let him… he has something to say," she answered his threat, voice barely detectable. "But it doesn't matter," she mouthed to Ecklie, holding his eyes long enough to make her point. "Because I don't exist…"

She stepped back.

"What do we do to help you?" Grissom asked.

She looked at Ecklie, "Give me two hours, do a GPS on Grissom's Denali and send the police. I need to leave, now. Are you done…?" she lifted his ID slightly off his lapel to find out whom she was speaking to, "Ecklie?"

Ecklie nodded again. He led her down the hallway, dark eyes from the rest of the team scouring against her skin. Sara turned slightly as she passed, trying to keep her composure.

She moved down the steps, Grissom handing her the keys and opening the door. Ecklie's face was unreadable as he stepped back, waiting on the curb impatiently.

"Who are you?" Grissom said under his breath as she put on her seat belt.

He had asked that question before.

She smiled slowly.

"Desdemona," she said plainly.

The smile wasn't visible, but he understood.

"You have no weapon," he reached for his to give to her. Against protocol, but…

She shook her head, turning over the engine and adjusting the mirror.

Once again the chill prickled at his neck. She didn't want one and he suddenly didn't want to understand why.

Her eyes flicked to Grissom, softness tightening around the edges. There was a true smile there, a tender smile, peaceful. His head tilted to one side faintly, watching the mask disappear and as it did, it made her entire face seem sad. Melancholy was embedded deeper than he almost certainly could ever imagine.

"Good bye Gil Grissom," she said gently, closing the door, turning in her seat to back out of the space and pull out of the parking lot.

((OOC- I can't seem to respond to reviews for some reason, and know I shouldn't OOC but wanted to thank you all so much for all your fantastic reviews. Definitely more to come! You are all greatly appreciated!))