A/N: Sorry Elena, I'm late again getting this posted. sigh Allergies kicked up again and allergy meds put me to sleep. I slept until time for CSI last night.

We're on chapter 21 out of 29 unless I decide to write that 30th chapter I've been told I should...we'll see.

Disclaimer: U know what's what.

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Grissom looked up from the patch of lawn he was examining as the vehicle approached. He recognized the driver and occupants immediately. He let his cool gaze smooth over the four younger CSI's who climbed out. His gaze hardened as it landed rested on the tallest of his wayward team. "Nice of you to honor us with your presence." He quipped, but his tone was anything but amused.

"We're here to help." Warrick snapped back, ignoring the churlish tone his boss carried. He avoided looking at the unwelcoming look on Grissom's face too. "What do we know? Let's find Cath before we deal with this."

"Something attracted her attention away from the door when she pulled up." Grissom told him, acknowledging that their argument could wait until later. He studied Warrick's face while he took in the scene. "What is it, Warrick? Something you see? Something you know?"

"I don't see anything you don't, Boss." Warrick sighed. He was quietly mourning the life he had here. He knew that if he survived this challenge, his life as a CSI would be over. Gil would have too many questions. He would never accept anything other then putting Coy Morgan in prison. That couldn't happen. There was no way that both could come out of the battle alive.

Warrick knew that he had to kill Morgan. It was kill or be killed. Although they didn't like the idea, he had to protect Nick and Greg. He had made Duncan promise to go after Morgan if he should fail but, right now it was up to him to get Morgan off of their trail.

Either way, Warrick Brown, the CSI would be gone. He couldn't leave a headless body behind for Grissom to dwell over.

"Warrick." Grissom cut into his mental anguish. "Is there something you're not telling me? Is this somehow about you? Is it your gambling again? Is it the Mob?"

"Grissom, I haven't been at the tables. As far as I know, this has nothing to do with the Mob. I've been clean, I don't gamble anymore." Warrick looked at Grissom, the pain of the accusations shining brightly in his eyes. "I'll get Cath back. I'll get her back, or die trying."

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"I cannot be the one this time." Richie argued. "I'll be a dead man here in the states! I'm already dead in Paris! Where the hell would I go then?"

"There are more places in the world than France and the United States." Adam answered dryly, his only answer was a go-to-hell look aimed at him from Richie.

"I won't do it." Richie shook his head stubbornly.

"You're not very good with the sneaking of bodies out of the morgue, so you have to be the dead one." Duncan shook his head. "You die; I sneak you out while Methos goes with Warrick to protect the mortals."

"Why don't you jump off the freaking building? Since I'm so inept, Adam can get your stinking body out of the morgue and I'll go with Warrick." Richie snarled.

"Richie, can't you for once, just go along with the plan?" Duncan questioned, frustrated. "When you were mortal, you never did as you were told. You were constantly putting yourself in danger. You haven't outgrown that, even after becoming immortal."

"Just because you have a few centuries on me, doesn't mean that you are automatically allowed to boss me around. I've done the jumping off the building crap. I don't like it. I'm not doing it!" Richie insisted.

Duncan sighed, looking over at Adam for help. "Methos, can you please talk some sense into him?"

"Truthfully, he's too young to be a viable serial killer. He's too green behind the ears to pull it off believably. You're right that he's not good at sneaking bodies out of the morgue. I'll be the killer, you rescue me and Rich can go with Warrick."

Duncan looked at his friend in shock. He hadn't been expecting him to side with the kid. "Fine, I'll be the killer." He muttered belligerently.

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Archie approached the break room nervously. Through the glass, he could see Greg was in there with Warrick. Perhaps this wasn't the time to attempt to come near Warrick, but Archie wanted it out in the open. He didn't want to live in fear of repercussions. He didn't want to jump at every little noise, thinking it was an irate Immortal set to beat the stuffing out of him. He liked all his stuffing exactly where it was.

Both men looked up from the file they were examining as he entered. Greg gave him an easygoing smile of welcoming which Archie didn't feel capable of returning. He was too nervous. He was too scared. He was scared at the black man who was glaring at him thunderously. Swallowing his fear, he stepped closer.

"Don't Archie." Warrick warned, a low growl in his voice. It was the type of growl that could send pure dread through the bravest of men. Archie Johnson was not the bravest of men. He froze, like a dear in the headlights.

"I think you need more coffee, my friend." Greg tried to draw Warrick's attention to himself as he rose. "I myself made this coffee, so we all know it's worth its weight in gold." Taking Warrick's cup, he made a big production of refilling the mug.

"I don't want coffee." Warrick roared, causing the video tech to retreat a few steps. "And I don't want YOU anywhere near me right now. I'm not in the mood for being stabbed in the back!"

"I never backstabbed you, Warrick." Archie was indignant. "I have never done or said anything that would cause you harm."

"What do you think spying on me is? Telling others private things about my life is not causing harm?" Warrick rumbled, rising out of the chair like a wraith looming out of a shadow. Archie had never seen Warrick in such a black rage, and he was truly frightened. His eyes, trained for details, looked Warrick over, no sign of a sword. Even without a weapon, the damage the man alone could cause was terrifying. "In my book that's called backstabbing! You might as well get the freakin knife and use it!"

"I-it's m-my job, Warrick!" Archie stuttered, retreating another step. If he were to take another step, he'd be back in the hall. He didn't want to have to flee, but he knew he would if Warrick made the move to attack. He didn't want that. He didn't want any of this. He didn't want to lose Warrick's friendship. It was too rare, too special.

"It's my job, Warrick!" Warrick mimicked snottily. With a snort, he added gruffly. "Yeah, it's your job to pretend to be my friend. It's your job to betray someone who considers you a friend. You were my friend, Archie. I would have laid down my life for you. Now…….I don't think I can handle looking at you."

Archie stood there in shock, as Warrick flew past him. He turned to watch the retreating CSI disappear down the corridor. Turning back, he met the sad eyes of Greg Sanders.

"Sorry, Arch." Was all Greg said.

"It wasn't all a lie. I am his friend too." Archie whispered, before turning around to slowly head back to his lab. He didn't want to dwell on this. He was crushed. He had, indeed, just lost one of the best friends he had ever had. Things were better in the lab. As Grissom said, evidence was just that, evidence. It was what it was. It didn't lie. It didn't hurt. From now on, Archie Johnson would stick to what he knew, computers. Friendship was too much work. It hurt too much when you lost it.

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Everything was in place. The trap was set. He had the bait. He had the perfect place. Over the years, he had found the old abandoned factories made the best fighting grounds. It had big open places and many things to use against his enemy.

He knew the place by heart. He had the home court advantage. Warrick Brown would be lost in here. He would be able to sneak up on the Immortal with no problem. He was ready. All he had to do was let Warrick know where to come. Coy looked over at the boy playing with the gun he had just gotten him. The boy was a shocking surprise. Parker was moldable. The boy was a quick learner and had a taste for killing. He had seemed to enjoy killing his own brother. Coy had never imagined that he would want to be a father, but this kid was a gem. He had a lot to teach him. It would be good to have a partner in his pursuits. Perhaps if he had had a partner when this quest began, it wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

Coy shook himself, trying to rid himself of his self-loathing. What was done was done. No matter what, he had no way of changing the past. He could learn from it, so not to make the same mistake again. He nodded to himself. Yes, he would clear up this mistake and no one would be the wiser. Tonight, Warrick would come here to lose his head. Later, he would slowly pick off the others. Wait until they were least expecting it and then take their heads. Clean up done! No one would know how many mistakes he had made with this one. No one would know that he had lost his quarry more than once! No one would know anything!

Now, to make the call that would get Warrick here. The sooner he made the call, the sooner he could take Warrick's head. He could almost taste the blood. Nothing was a good as an Immortals blood, except perhaps, the blood of a pre-Immortal. Soon, he would have his fill of both!