heya, new chapter
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just playing with the characters
A/N: In the last chapter I called the coffee 'blue mountain' and its not called that, its 'blue jamican'...I have crossed the 1500 hits lineso yay(!) so thanks to those people and thank you to bene xxxsarasbutterflyxxx and dybdahl for reviewing. Next chapter should be up next weekend... I have to start revising because I have exams in four weeks (ugh) so chapters will be coming up once every one week probably, but keep reading.
Have a great easter unless you dont celebrate easter then just have a good weekend.
x
Nick and Greg were in the boss's office, Warrick's office Warrick was sat behind his desk while the two other CSI's sat in front with blankets wrapped around them, hands clutching to the lusciously warm coffee. The shivers seemed to have passed.
It had been a cold and grey night. The torrential rain had been bulletining the outside surfaces. Now the clouds were not black but a golden pink billow of foam with plum rotting at the centre of them. The golden burning sun was rising and soon it would rise majestically above the panoply of clouds.
The three men were like phoenixes. Nick and Greg had just been reborn from the ashes while Warrick felt old and tired and longed for the flames. Nick's potent, undeniable charm and lovable aura radiated while Greg's ferocious sprit, excitement, interest in other peoples interesting was on a high. They sat around the desk, which was more central and cluttered than what it had been. There was a cold, foam cup of tea laced with sugar and milk. Several books, case files splayed open. Warrick's footnotes had footnotes.
Ecklie had stalked them out, demanding to know why he was here when he should have been in a meeting with the sheriff, seeking social supremacy. Greg had muttered "comic relief. He hadn't muttered quietly enough and Conrad had glowered at him, and warned him. Warrick and Nick had had to keep pensive and stoic faced. When Ecklie left, after talking about 'his lab', Warrick and Nick bursting in to smiles, warning Greg that he would get in to trouble.
"Are you okay?" Warrick smiled thinly, thinking that perhaps there was a curse of being head of nightshift at CSI: Las Vegas.
"Other than scared for life-" Greg began, with a cheesy smile.
"We're fine." Nick cut him off. He scratched his chin.
"If you don't count being trapped for hours with about 20 DB's," added Greg, amiably. With the emphasis on the word 'hours', Warrick would have thought Nick and Greg had been trapped for twenty-four hours. It had only been four.
Warrick shuck his head, smiling, and listened to them blame each other about who's fault it was that the got locked in the large freezer. Both of them were intelligent beings and a newly installed door had beaten them.
"Are you sure you are okay?" Warrick asked gravely.
"Yeah, can't wait for the next time."
"Glad that you can retain some optimism," Warrick complimented him.
"Gee," he said blinking and nodding his head slightly, "thanks."
"Well, I am gonna go take my little girl to school."
"Later, Nick."
"See ya…so just you and me, Warrick…I hear that Grissom saw Sara a few days ago…shame we can't see if he has been seeing things…or you know actually saw her…I think that maybe-."
With a sigh and a shake of his, Warrick said, "Greg, I think that maybe you should just stop right there."
"How can you not be the tiniest bit curious?"
"'Curiosity kills that cat.'"
"I'm not a cat. But if we could just look at security tapes from that area, just to know if she is alive…"
"No."
Greg seemed to deflate; he couldn't even summon up the energy to protest.
"And if you go behind my back," he paused very briefly, jaw set, "I'll suspend you."
Greg's eyebrows shot up but he still respected Warrick on his decision. He just wanted to know.
Greg loved Sara, like he loved all his friends; they meant more to him than he could ever explain to them in his fractured version of English. He left and couldn't wait to crawl in to the shower and stumble in to bed, though perhaps not in that order.
Warrick looked at the framed photo of him and Catherine while he was waiting. Catherine was wearing that short black gleaming satin number with several sequins scattered randomly, with straps, the one with the hem above the knees. Catherine's flowing gold hair was twirled in a complicated manor made her a daring beauty. It emphasized her cheekbones. Warrick was wearing a black butter-silk shirt; he could see the damp patch of wetness. Warrick remembered how his shoulders shaking with laughter. They both were holding a glass of gaudy, pale yellow champagne and they had tried linking arms and drinking the liquid. It didn't work.
The shrill ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. He cleared his throat slightly before answering.
"Brown…Yes I did…Okay…Thank you."
After finishing the quick, blunt and brief call, he dialled Catherine's cell phone.
"Hey Cath, I am gonna be late. Only a few hours, but I just wanted let you know. See you soon."
Warrick had been in to the Audio/ Visual Lab just over forty minuets and his spider like hands had been kept over the keyboard and mouse the entire time and eyes fixed on the screen. The reason he didn't want Greg looking at the tapes is because if Greg got caught using resources, it would probably piss off Ecklie enough so Warrick would have pressure to fire Sanders, something he would never do.
His eyebrows were slender and automatically met in the middle His cheekbones suddenly became prominent and beads of sweat were trickling down the back of his neck, his swathed like a spider's web. It was so warm. He double clicked on the right side of the mouse and he zoomed in. He replayed it twice, not blinking and the tears that were making his eyelids swell finally spilled out. His lips were full and half-open as if they had broken away just a moment before from a long, passionate kiss and were not yet sated. Air was tickling the saliva on his lips. He didn't know what feeling he felt, it was like pleasant fatigue or delicate waves flowing through his body.
He watched Grissom talk to a brunette wearing a red jacket on the screen. At leastGil wasn't hallucinating. He watched how Gil reacted when he turned around to see the person he had been talking to had gone. Warrick followed the women and he noticed how she was extremely weak, how she walked limped and how she kept her face down. He could understand how Grissom would have scared her. Warrick watched the tapes over and over, looking for a glimpse of the girl's face in semi-profile, something that showed that this was his missing colleague, missing friend.
But he couldn't prove or disprove this ghost of a women was Sara Sidle.
He gave up and went home.
thank you for reading x