CSI: Gost: Chapter 8

A/N: I'm glad you're all enjoying this, it makes me very happy to read your wonderful reviews, so keep 'em coming and keep enjoying this and I'll keep writing! Thanks guys and gals!

Nick saw the heavy storm clouds brewing in the distance but he really didn't care. Nor did he really know where he was. He'd left home for a long walk to be able to think things through a while ago, and hadn't paid much attention to where he was going. Now, he was on some street he'd never seen before, though in his neighborhood they all looked the same anyway, and a storm was brewing. He stared at the ground as he walked, knowing that the kids in the yard across the street were probably pointing at him and asking questions of their parents.

He and Greg had gone through the older, unsolved cases the night before and couldn't really make heads or tails of them. The same guns had been used in all of them as had been used in their two recent cases but that was the only real connection they had. Only some of them could be connected to Tony Biggs, but even those connections weren't strong.

The case was at a dead end, and he was afraid other things would turn into one too if they didn't get resolved. Namely he was thinking about Greg. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but it felt like Greg was starting to become distant. It wasn't like he hadn't had these feelings before. There were other times in the past when Greg had seemed distant but they'd all been short periods of time. This time, he felt like the situation was different somehow, like a storm was brewing, and it would get huge before it was over. Larger than anything either of them had weathered together before. Of course he still loved Greg. He always had and he always would. He just wished Greg would talk to him, tell him exactly what was going on. Nick knew it was more than just their private lives mixing with their professional lives. He just didn't know what it was and he couldn't help Greg when he didn't know what was really wrong.

He remembered seeing him with the cigarette, watching him watch the smoke curling up into the night sky. It had seemed eerie the way he was cool and calm about smoking, as if he'd done it his whole life. And he had. When he was in the gang. Nick shuddered at the thought. He wished he knew more about the gang. Sure it was in Greg's past, but sometimes the past came back to bite you in the future. The gang could still have an affect on him even today, similar to the way his babysitter did. But Greg wouldn't talk about it.

Without warning the sky opened up and rain pelted down without mercy. Nick stopped walking and lifted his face up to the sky, almost wondering why it had suddenly started to rain, as if he'd forgotten about the storm nature was brewing. He looked around him, he still wasn't ready to go home, and he supposed it didn't matter anyway because he still didn't know what street he was on. Already he was soaked through to his skin and he felt chills running up and down his spine as he continued to walk, head hanging down. A burst of thunder pounded over head and was followed just a few seconds later by a streak of lightning across the sky. He really needed to get out of this weather if he wanted to make it home to Greg.

He just wanted to understand what Greg was thinking, that was all. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like his husband was trying to distance himself from him. He didn't want things to end between them, and he was sure Greg felt the same way. Didn't he? He had to since he'd always denied bad things were coming between then. Nick wanted to believe him. He really did. And maybe Greg was right. Maybe it was just his overactive imagination trying to find something, anything to prove things were going down hill just because they weren't. He knew so many people who's marriages were on the rocks by the end of the first year, that he was confused as to how theirs had lasted for five already. Everything was perfect between them, he was just making excuses, looking for the minutest of evidence which didn't mean a damned thing. They were fine, he told himself, and he had to believe it.

Another burst of thunder clapped and a streak of lightning followed close behind, with more thunder and more lightning mere seconds away. Now he just had to concentrate on getting home. Home, where he belonged.

A loud car horn beeped behind him, making him jump a mile out of his skin. And then he saw Greg's little Jetta driving carefully around him and coming to a complete stop. He didn't wait for an express invitation but hurried around to the passenger side and got in.

"You have no idea how long it took me to find you!" Greg exclaimed when he shut the door and they were on their way. "As soon as I saw the storm coming, I knew you'd gotten lost again."

It was true. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten lost on a long walk. He hung his head, feeling bad about it. He really should have been more careful.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry about it. That's what I'm here for. To come find you when you need me to," Greg smiled his usual goofy smile and Nick returned it.

They were still cool.

Geoff Baker strolled through the department store like he owned the place. Sure he had a perfectly suitable suit, but he'd had it for a few years and it was time for an upgrade. A grand upgrade. He wanted his next target to think he was a swank millionaire at dinner. He smiled his usual grand toothy grin and watched all the ladies swoon after him as he passed. He was a handsome man when he wanted to be and he knew it.

Cruising into the suit department he met the tailor just finishing up with someone.

"Hello sir and what can I do for you today?" the elder man asked in a friendly manner.

"I'm looking for a suit. Obviously, since I'm here. I want one that shows I've got money to spend, because I do, and I'm willing to give top dollar for your best!"

"Well, then come right on over here and I'll show you what we've got."

The man walked him over to a rack and turned, sizing him up, before he pulled a few suits off the rack. Why don't you go ahead and try these on. The dressing room is right over there, and remember all of these can be taken in or let out if need be."

"Thank you," Geoff said, taking the hangers he was offered.

Inside the dressing room he surveyed what the man had chosen. He was pleased. All of them were styles he would wear. But the one he liked the best was a black pinstripe. It looked fitting for the occasion and the lie he would be weaving all throughout dinner. He tried it on, making sure the ring on the silver chain was tucked carefully underneath the black dress shirt, and found that it fit pretty good. Looking in the mirror all he needed now was a pair of dress shoes, and a fedora to match. He grinned. This was going to be fun.

"Oh, that looks good on you!" the elder man commented when he emerged with the suit on. "It just looks a little long on the leg, but we can fix that real easily."

"I'll need it done by tomorrow morning. Will that be a problem?"

"None at all! Come, stand up here, face the mirror and I can get these pinned up."

Geoff did as instructed. Now, standing in a three way mirror he found he could really enjoy the look of himself in the suit. Remembering the job he was to do after dinner the following night he imagined blood spatter covering his brand new suit and wondered how good it would look. Maybe he'd save it as a souvenir in his apartment, hang it up on the wall as his only form of art.

Lately, it seemed as if his boss had many jobs for him. Usually there were only about four in a whole year, spread apart by months. This netted him roughly eighty thousand dollars a year, which was a pretty good deal, especially since he hardly went out on shopping sprees and his apartment was on the grungier side. He was loaded. And his boss hardly knew just how loaded he was. The only thing he spent money on was his Dodge Viper, which was kept in top condition. If he wasn't under contract he'd definitely opt out of the assassin business. He could live off the rest of his life doing whatever he pleased and he wasn't even forty yet. Ah, life could be good. Could be. But that contract always managed to get in the way of things. Kept him secured in his job. There was no way he could break it, no matter how much he might have wanted to.

Sure he enjoyed his job, the freedom he had to do what law abiding citizens couldn't do, but it wasn't all fun and games. He had to be careful. He always had to make sure he wouldn't get caught. Getting out of the job would ease his mind a little bit, help him relax, something he'd forgotten how to do a long time ago, even if he made it look different in his outward appearance.

So, his boss had ramped up the ammo, against those he didn't like lately. Either that, or he suddenly had more people turning on him. Well, these people weren't under contract from a previous crime boss, like he was. Hell, he was an assassin, he could just as easily wipe out the problem slick as a whistle and not have to kill another living soul again, live free and clear for the rest of his life, just like he had always wanted.

But there was a problem with that thought. The Devil was a huge crime boss. One of the biggest in the whole country. If someone were to take him out, people would notice. Sure he was good at what he did and could hide the evidence so no one suspected a thing, but this wasn't something one took lightly. Things could come around to him. Slick as a whistle it would be, but that didn't make it any easier. In fact, it would be his most difficult job to date with all the security and personnel The Devil had with him at his mansion. The place was huge. He'd have to take out everyone. Including the innocent maid who knew nothing and didn't even speak an ounce of English. With a job like that, it was possible some evidence could be left behind.

No, he was stuck in the job until The Devil determined he was a big enough crime boss that no one would turn on him. He sighed, hoping the days when fewer jobs would return. Maybe he would go somewhere, to a spa and get a massage, attempt to learn to relax, spend a little of his hard earned cash..

"Ok, you're all set, sir," the tailor said, standing up. "If you'll go change back, we can finish up here."

Looking back up at himself in the three way mirror Geoff saw the blood spattered across the lapels of the suit. It would look beautiful when he was done.

"Nick? You ok?" Catherine asked when she saw him in the break room huddled around a warm cup of coffee.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just got caught in that down pour earlier and I'm suffering some after affects, I guess."

"Yeah, Greg told me about that."

"Great. He did?"

"Yeah, said you went out for a walk, got lost, again, and he found you just as the storm really started to kick in."

"It's all true."

"So, this isn't the first time it's happened?"

Nick sighed. "No." Truth was the best option right now, he figured, as chills ran up his spine. If only Greg didn't have a fear of their lives coming together he'd be there right then with his arms around him, helping to keep him warm. "I like to go on walks to think. I don't pay attention to where I'm going sometimes. That's all."

"Well, I'll say you sure are lucky to have Greg around then. Otherwise we'd be scraping your charred remains off the pavement."

"Thanks for the image, Cath. It really helps."

"You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"What makes you say that?" Nick looked up, startled by her words.

"Well, this is usually what happens when problems come up. I mean, so far, your marriage has been perfect, right?"

"Mostly, yeah."

"But it can't always be."

"Cath, can we not be talking about this right now. I'd rather not. I don't want to think of problems coming between us. At all. I'll be honest, the thought scares the shit out of me. So, leave it alone."

"Of course it does. It scares the shit out of everyone, Nicky."

The door opened just then and Warrick entered the room, sitting down heavily in a chair.

"So, I just talked to Sanders, since we're probably about to start working on your case with you. Wanted to get caught up."

"Ok."

"He hasn't been out in the field tonight, has he?"

"What makes you ask that?" Nick wondered.

"I thought I smelled cigarette smoke on him, and I know he doesn't smoke, so I got confused."

Nick felt hope sliding away from him like a bucket of water upturned on his head ending in a puddle at his feet, the way the down pour had done earlier. He rested his head in his hands. "Shit," he whispered.

"Nicky?"

"It's nothing. Nothing."

"It's not nothing, dude. What's going on? Come on, I'm your best friend, you can tell me."

"It's an old habit from when he was younger," Nick admitted. "I thought he said he threw away the rest of the pack."

A/N: Expect wild action and some angst next chapter. I say this only because there's been a lot of thinking going on in seven and eight and I don't want you to worry that the action is over. It's not. Not by a long shot. This is where the story starts getting really good!