A/N: Sorry this wasn't posted last night. I wasn't in the land of the living yesterday. Woke up in time to watch CSI. Why did Warrick only show up to sniff the DB's shorts? sigh

Here's chapter 17, thanks for sticking with me. My betas are trying to convince me that I need to make a 30th chapter for this fic...thinking about it. Still doing rewrites for the chapters I have.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, Warrick would actually get some screentime!

Nick sat up with a yawn. His internal clock was still set on graveyard shift time and he knew that he was late, had he been going to work today. The place was oddly quiet, except for Greg's snoring. His fellow CSI as obviously one that relied on an actual alarm clock, he didn't look to be stirring anytime soon.

Looking around, he saw Richie and Mac on the couch. Richie was sprawled out, sleeping with a book open on his chest. Mac had actually been reading a book, except that he was now looking over at Nick with interest. His dark eyes were studying him intently, as if he were able to assess how he was feeling.

"Feeling better?" He asked softly.

"Yeah. Where is everyone?" Nick asked, grunting as he levered himself out of the bed.

"Methos took Joe to meet with the other Watcher." Mac answered, before pointing out the obvious. "The meeting you arranged."

"Yeah." Nick nodded. "Why do you call him Methos, while the others call him Adam?"

"We call him as we see him. For a while, the others didn't know him as Methos, just Adam. They still see him as the Watcher-Scholar, Adam. I see him as the old Immortal he is…….I see him as Methos." Mac explained carefully. "It's all about how you look at him. Never look at an Immortal by what he shows you. You have to look deeper, see the man inside the Immortal."

"Speaking of Immortal men, where's Warrick?" Nick frowned, realizing his friend was still unaccounted for.

"Up on the roof." Mac answered. He watched as Nick staggered towards the hidden opening that led to the roof. "Don't sneak up on him. He's got his sword. Let him know you're there."

Nick didn't think he could sneak up on a deaf man as he climbed the short flight of stairs that led to the roof. His breathing was harsh and heavy. Every step hurt and he had no ability to remain quiet about it. He seemed to grunt and groan with every step. At the top, he stopped and leaned against a cement block. He made sure that he was well out of the way, but could still see and be seen by his wayward friend.

Warrick, clad only in a pair of green boxer shorts, did indeed have his sword with him. Although the Las Vegas evening was growing cool, he was dripping with sweat as he swung his sword. Nick was awed by the way Warrick handled the sword, fighting some unseen foe. It was almost poetic, the way Warrick moved. It would have been, if not for the fierce look on his face. Warrick looked nothing like the Warrick Brown Nick knew. This Warrick was enraged. This Warrick was savage. He was battling as if he were trying to kill whoever or whatever he was seeing.

"You need to heal up so we can work on your fighting skills." Warrick suddenly spoke up; the only indication that he knew Nick was near. With a final swing of his sword, he ended the pretend battle. "You sneak as well as a heard of buffalo."

"Since I've already been used like a pincushion this week, I figured sneaking up on a man with a sharp sword wouldn't be the best idea." Nick chuckled. "So I wasn't trying to sneak."

"Good thinking." Warrick nodded, lowering his sword as he padded over to Nick. "How ya feeling?"

"Not bad, considering I thought I was as good as dead a couple of days ago." Only with Warrick could Nick admit his feelings. His words spoke volumes to his astute friend.

"Well, I'm real glad that you're not dead." Warrick grinned.

"What are you doing up here in nothing but your skivvies?" Nick frowned, looking down at the bare brown feet before him. "Doesn't the roof make your feet hurt?"

"Hell yeah! But, it's called conditioning. You have to be able to fight, no matter what. You have to overcome the pain you feel. Your opponent won't allow you to stop if you stub your toe."

"This doesn't seem real." Nick out a heavy sigh.

"It will." Warrick promised. "but I'll try to make sure it doesn't have to be real to you for a while yet."

"How? How can you do that?" Keep me locked up in your tower so the evils of the world can't get to me?" Nick scoffed, immediately irritated at the thought of being coddled and babied.

"No, just this one evil. I'm going after that bastard. I'm going to kill him before he gets near you again." Warrick guaranteed with a fear-provoking growl and a swipe of his sword. "I'm going head-hunting."

Nick stared at the sword with a look of sadness that he made no attempt to hide from his best friend. Warrick immediately felt contrite. Nick had had a lot to deal with the last couple of days and Warrick hadn't taken the time to help him cope. "You okay?"

"What?" Nick looked up into the concerned green eyes, he saw the guilt in Warrick's eyes and tried to give him a grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a little sore, but I've had worse."

"I'm not asking about the physical stuff. Are YOU okay? I know this is a lot to take in."

Nick leaned again the cement wall and shrugged. "This immortal stuff? Yeah, it's hard to swallow. I'm not too fond of the idea, but….I'll deal with it like I deal with everything else……one step at a time."

"And the fact that we are all foundlings? You don't have a problem with that?" Warrick's gaze narrowed. "The fact that we can't have children?"

"The parents went to a lot of trouble to hide the fact that I was adopted….they'll be disappointed about me not having kids."

"You knew?"

"Yeah, found the papers when I was sixteen. I figured they would tell me when they felt it necessary. I guess they haven't yet." Nick answered with a slight shrug. "I'm happy with my life as Nick Stokes, I have no desire to search out my real parents."

"Good thing." Warrick chuckled. "There has never been an Immortal who has been able to find their birth parents. You were lucky, having a set of good parents to raise you."

"I know."

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8

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"Well, Al? What have we got?" Gil Grissom called out as he entered the morgue. He was pulling on gloves as he crossed to the other man. "Any news on who our victims are?"

"Yes. As soon as I got your call, I requested the dental records of Cyndi Lamarax. I put a rush on the impressions. It came back positive. This is indeed, Ms. Lamarax."

"And the child?" Grissom looked over at the boy on the next slab.

"No dental records. I'm guessing that the boy is one of her missing sons, but I can't give you a definite answer yet. I drew blood from both of them and sent time to the DNA lab. I requested that they be the top priority."

"Thanks Al." Grissom grimaced as he looked down at the boy. "Did he die first or last?"

"Far as I can tell, he died about half an hour after she did." Al Robbins answered, his attention still on the remains of the woman.

"So this sicko….mutilates the woman while the child watches. Then he simply stabs the boy?"

"Well…." The mortician frowned up at the CSI. "This is one of your more curious cases. It's very curious."

"What's so curious about it?" Catherine calls out as she stalks into the room. Both men look up at her, but with different expressions on their faces. Al, although married, feels the need to appreciate the beauty of her female form. He gives her a smile of welcoming.

"What are you doing in here?" Gil is giving her a look of disapproval that she promptly shrugs off.

"You made me come in on my day off. You called me to the party, so I'm here." Catherine looks at him with challenge blazing in her eyes. Al's attention is torn from the body before him to watch the pair before him. It was fun to see the sparks fly between the two. Catherine's emotions were written clearly on her face. It was obvious that she wouldn't back down. Gil's face was, as usual, expressionless. He was studying her intensely, without a change in his face. Finally, he gives her a curt nod.

"Doc? You were saying?" Dismissing Catherine's unwanted appearance, Gil turned his full attention back to the mortician and the bodies.

"Well, have a look." Doc moved closer to the mutilated woman. "Perhaps you'll understand my meaning. This was a very sadistic torture. Professionally done. I'd guess that this wasn't the first person he's done this to."

"It's mutilation. How can you say it's professionally done?" Catherine scowled in disgust as she looked down at the remains.

"There are no hesitation marks. Each swipe of the knife removed the skin perfectly, without going too deep. He made her bleed profusely and….most likely….she was conscious while it was happening to her." Al pointed out various places that proved his point. "These stabbings were precise. He knew exactly where to stab her and not kill her. I'm thinking you might have another medical expert on your hands."

The mortician stepped back as the two CSI's crowded close to examine the punctures he mentioned. "Each stab was the exact depth and the exact angle needed to avoid immediate death. He wanted her to hurt and to bleed before he snapped the neck to kill her."

"So, you think this might be the work of a serial killer?" Grissom questioned, his eyes never leaving the body.

"It's nothing that's ever came through this morgue." Al admitted. "If I were in charge of this case, I'd wonder if this man has been doing this somewhere else."

"I'll check." Catherine took the hint.

Satisfied that his judgment was being considered, Al turned and moved over to the child's body. "It looks completely different over here. Catherine? Care to tell the class what's different about this one?"

Catherine frowned at the older man. She moved around to the next slab, trying not to look at the child's face. A dead child always affected her more than anything else did. It affected everyone on the team, but she and Nicky always reacted the worst. "No mutilation, just punctures." She stated the obvious before looking closer. "They're…..haphazard. They don't look very professional or precise at all."

"Exactly!" Al nodded pointing to one puncture on the boy's just. "This one here was the one that killed him, but he was already dying form the previous strikes. What seems oddest to me are the depths of these strikes. It's as if he wasn't really trying. This one here only went in half an inch, in fact, most are like that. There is no precision in the strikes, not in the depths and not in the angles. On the woman, everything was done with a reason and intended to cause as much pain and suffering as possible."

"So, our killer wasn't using his full strength?" Grissom's brow puckered in concentration as he puzzled over this new information.

"Or there was a second killer. One did the woman while the other watched and then vise-versa?" Catherine suggested. "It's been done before."

"Or, this could be someone with a split personality." Gil countered.

"I'm just a mortician, not a psychiatrist." Al told them dryly. "My job is to examine the body. It's your job to figure this out.

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8

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"I think Archie Johnson knows something about where Warrick and the others are." David Hodges told Sara as she came into the Trace Lab.

"Did you have the results for me, or did you just call me in her to talk about others behind their backs?" Sara snapped, stopping in the doorway.

"Of course, I have your results." Hodges rolled his eyes as he handed over the printout. "I just thought you might be interested to know. The guys are all in deep trouble with Dr. Grissom for their disappearing trick. Johnson got a weird phone call during lunch while we were in the break room. He went and hid himself in the bathroom to talk. When he came out, he clocked himself out, claiming he had a doctor's appointment."

"And you think this has to do with the guys……how?" Sara was determined not to sound excited.

"From what I could hear, it sounded like he was talking to Nick Stokes." Hodges smirked at the fact that he had her complete attention. "Strange that he gets a call from Stokes, then takes off. He's done a disappearing trick just like the others."

"You have no actual proof that it was Nick, nor do you know that Archie is not at a doctor's office." Sara glared at the man. He got on her nerves. "I would suggest you keep this to yourself until you find yourself some solid evidence to back you up. You know that Grissom does not like false accusations, nor does he like backstabbing."

Having said this, Sara spun on her heel and left the lab. It shocked her that she was actually irritated at the man for doing the exact thing that she had considered. She worried that Hodges would ignore her advice and tell Grissom. Would this interfere with whatever Warrick was doing to protect Nick and Greg? Would Archie be able to remain quiet if Grissom questioned him?

She had to find Archie and warn him. If she could not find Archie, then she would go to Warrick himself and warn him that his secret was about to be uncovered. Looking at the results of the sample she had taken from her last crime scene, she realized that her case was as good as solved. She would worry about the guys as soon as she got a detective to make an arrest for her.

tbc...