A/N: Well, I see the last chapter was a dead beat. Maybe this chapter will stir some of you sitting corpses sitting in your computer chairs? C'mon, I've already got up to chapter 24 done now! But at any rate, I'm still happy about getting reviews at any rate, so I'm gonna sitting at home moaning and complaining. Nervous biting of the nails? Yes. Complaining? No.

Disclaimer: Pfft. I can hardly say I own much, so how can I actually own these wonderful characters?

Chapter 18: Tournament Pt. 2

Sara's POV:

"Sara?" A voice called to me, in the distance. "Sara!" The voice came closer. "SARA!"

"Huh?" I turned in the stool I sat in, still holding a photo from the crime scene Nick had presented to me. I still couldn't believe the resemblance.

"You've been staring at that same picture for over ten minutes..." Nick stated with that brotherly concern he had for everyone in this lab. Well, almost everyone, I decided when an image of Hodges invaded my mind. "Is everything all right?"

"Y-yeah... I'm fine." I stuttered at first. "It's just... you said this is still a John Doe, right?"

Nick hummed a yes, that look still in his eyes. "Do you know the vic?"

"I think I might, but I'm not sure." A lump formed in my throat at the very thought of it being him. "We've been best friends since I was about eight... But I haven't seen him since I was about sixteen or seventeen." That face, the cold dead baby blue eyes that stared up at me through the picture... It looked exactly like him. "Teague James, but we used to call him Taj."

I think I just began to believe in the Doppleganger theory. I thought to myself, hoping the man in the picture was not one of my life long best friends.

On the vic, the white T-shirt was ripped to expose a well-defined torso that spoke of countless hours of toning at the gym and then some. Between the time out in the sun and his African American heritage, the man in the picture had a semi-dark skin color and complexion to him. A short Caesar cut sculpted the jet black hair on top of his head and a very light mustache on his upper lip told of his young age – an adult but yet still an adolescent. Electric blue eyes that were glazed over with the look of death in them as they sat in a baby face that was identical to Taj's, from what I remember of him now.

For my sake, as well as Brooke's, I wished with every square inch of my heart that this man wasn't Teague James. If it was, my heart wouldn't be the only one that would be broken by the news. Growing up, even though Brooke would never admit to it, she was in love with the guy. There wasn't a girl in Brooklyn that wasn't in love with him. I was one of his best friends, and even I thought he was hot. It was something about those eyes of his and his baby face that attracted all the women, young and old. Taj was the kind of kid who had the looks at eleven to make a newly turned eighteen-year-old woman cry at the fact that she was now an adult instead of a minor. And even at the age of five, Brooke was sucked into the large group of "Teague James" groupies.

There was only one definitive way to determine whether or not this man was in fact Teague James, or just a lookalike. The tattoo on his hip. Our group's symbol.

Shooting up from my seat, I exited the layout room without warning, leaving a baffled Nick behind to stare after me as I made my way to Doc. Robbin's domain. I received several looks of interest as I navigated the halls at a pace in between a power walk and a jog. The familiar and cold hallway I entered in a matter of minutes announced that I was close to the coronary office, and as I turned left down the next hallway, I saw the familiar double doors that provided entrance to the office.

Peering ahead to ensure Doc. Robbins wasn't already with one of my co-workers, I saw him filling out paperwork at his small desk, a look of boredom written clearly across his face. Just like everyone else in this building, just the mention of paperwork already had one yawning in boredom – Dr. Robbins was no different.

Might as well give him a minute's rest while I get the answer's I need.

"Doc?" I announced my presence as I pushed the doors open.

Turning in his chair, he sent a pleasant smile my way and seemed grateful for the temporary distraction from his paperwork. "Sara, what can I do for you?"

"The John Doe on Nick's case, did you notice a particular tattoo on his right hip during your prelim?" I questioned with an eagerness in my voice.

Shuffling through a mass of papers on his desk, Doc. Robbins retrieved a folder in the midst of it all and flipped it opened. Inside it revealed his notes on the DB and several photographs of defensive wounds, the heavy bruising around the face and torso, as well as several identifying tattoos on various parts of his body such as the shoulders and forearms. Though there was none of a small tattoo on his right hip, which would have made it easy for me to distinguish whether it was my friend or not.

I released a sigh of relief I hadn't even known I was holding until now, and looked down at Doc. Robbins who had been observing me since he pulled out the file. "You all right now?"

"I'm fine. Thanks Doc." I said as I left him to return to his paperwork.

"Sure thing Sara." He mumbled back.

With a less urgent expression in my steps, it took a little longer to get back to the layout room than it did for me to arrive at the morgue. I was met with an expectant Nick Stokes still where I last saw him. "So, is it your friend?"

"No, it's not." I replied as I reclaimed my vacated seat. "Just a lookalike."

"That's good." A genuine smile crossed his lips as he continued to examine more evidence he'd removed from the evidence vault. "Wouldn't want to put you on desk duty because of Conflict of Interest on a case. Which I'm surprised Grissom didn't say no when I offered. I'm telling you, that guy is an enigma beyond reason."

"He was just in a good mood tonight I guess." I was careful not to reveal anything in my tone. "There's nothing wrong with that."

After this afternoon, it would be a miracle if either one of us were in a bad mood. I thought privately to myself.

As I looked over now, I saw Nick staring at me with that knowing gaze that Catherine had sported earlier. "Uh huh..."

"What?" I asked, practically challenging him to find something wrong with my previous statement.

After a moment or two, Nick shook his head with a smirk. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Ignoring his behavior, I turned back to my work, not wanting to weigh out the possibilities that my and Grissom's good moods had surfaced any suspicions among our co-workers. It was too soon, and we hadn't even discussed when we were going to announce our relationship, if we were going to. Virtually, nothing was definitive in this relationship just yet.

A sudden chill over came me, and I shook in my seat silently. In it's aftermath, it left me with an uneasy feeling as if something was right or as if something bad was about to happen. Claiming myself crazy, I continued my work pushing the feeling to the far back reaches of my mind.

Brooke's POV:

Twisting out of my captor's death tight embrace, I ran across the ring to where my opponent's partner had Taj pinned down in a painful leg submission, a look on Taj's face saying that he was half considering submitting. Appearing to make it just in time, I landed a solid blow to the man's side, knocking him off of Taj temporarily.

Leaving Taj to tend to the other opponent, I charged after "House" as he was dubbed, the man I'd just kicked down. Snatching him by his plaid hillbilly shirt, I forced him to his feet before I pulled him into a hard grapple, but getting no further than that. He was too heavy to throw over my shoulder or anything like that, and if I wasn't careful, he could reverse the grapple so that he could throw me over his shoulder. Instead, I opted to lead him running into the metal bars that lined the ring while he was still in a dazed and hurt state. House's midsection collided with the cold steel as he leaned over it helplessly, prompting me to run up behind him while his back was still to me and jackhammer my feet into his back to ram him even further into the bar.

For his sake, he better hope his stomach is just on that bar.

Front flipping a foot away from him, my feet landed square in the middle of his back and I used his back as a platform to jump back into a backflip to land again. I was satisfied when I heard him groan in pain just before throwing up whatever food or drink he had before this match.

I bet you feel a hundred pounds lighter, don't you Big Boy?

Walking up beside him, I turned to the crowd as I fisted a clump of his dirty blonde hair in my fist and riled them up even further than they were before, lifting House's head just slightly above the metal bar. When the cheering became overwhelmingly loud, I smashed his forehead down into the bar, knocking him out. There was a deafening wave of cheers as House fell to the floor. But I soon found out that it wasn't me they were cheering for – or at least not entirely for.

Twirling around now, I saw Taj pulling out one move after another on Jitz, a wrestler and submissioner. I was momentarily caught in awe by Taj and how he gradually took down the oversized wrestler with ease. The way he evaded Jitz's grapples by backflipping and then retaliating with a round house to the face. As Jitz stumbled backwards, I saw the perfect opening for our signature closing move.

Whistling and then calling out Taj's name, we only managed a quick look at each other before I sprinted toward him. Taj lowered to the ground in a crouching position so that when I approached him, I stepped up on his shoulders as he launched me up into the air as he jumped up into the air. On my flight up, I managed to make contact with Jitz's chin with my bent knee, front flipping before I touched the floor. From there and while Taj was already preparing another round house for Jitz, I swung my legs around in a break dancing style to trip Jitz backwards before pulling my body backwards into a backroll to escape Jitz toppling on me as he fell back, unconscious.

Getting to my feet, Taj and I stared down at the wrestler's still body with disgust before walking out of the ring.

"Whoo! Hello? Anyone alive in there? Guess not." The announce said with a laugh over the loudspeaker.

"Not bad, Brooke." Taj complimented as we entered the bathroom once more, washing off the blood from our faces.

"Thanks, but I already know I'm good." I replied, still in a sour mood toward him.

Splashing water over my face, I washed the spilling blood from my lip and a minor scratch just below my eye in one swipe. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Taj's reflection behind me leaning up against a stall door with a smirk on his lips. The same lips I'd kissed just twenty minutes before.

Don't even go there, Waters. You're supposed to hate him right now, not love him.

But that didn't change the fact that he was looking cute standing there with his arms across his chest and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and seduction. But that wouldn't work under no circumstances. Never. Not now, not ever.

"You weren't bad yourself out there. I see you can still hold your own, somewhat." I allowed to slip out, diverting my eyes from his in Taj's reflection.

"I always have been able to hold my own." He remarked, pushing off from his spot and moved up next to me. "I've also been able to hold down a lot more than myself too."

Pivoting toward him, I placed my hand against his chest and pushed him back. "You've pushed it once, and now you're pushing it again. Don't make me have to turn you into my next opponent, Taj. You will get hurt."

"Listen Brooke. Why can't we just try it out again? Last time, I was an idiot." Taj took my hand with his.

"You've got that damn straight." I said as I yanked my hand away from him. "And there won't be an 'again' for us. There's not even an 'us'. There's just me and you. That's the way its always been, is now, and will be forever more." I made my trek for the door. "So, you better wise up to that fact boy, because you need to start living in reality."

The door closed and I suddenly regretted it all.

Sara's POV:

"Hey Sara." Catherine greeted me in the hallway on the similar track toward the breakroom.

"Hey Cath." I returned the polite gesture.

"So..." This was her classic line opener anytime she wanted to get something off her chest. "You and Grissom sure came in with good moods. What's been going on in your life since the Police Ball incident?"

"Nothing much." I kept my cool under the blonde's scrutiny that she usually only reserved for the hardcore criminals. "Just the usual. I caught an episode of Forensic Files on Court TV last night for the first time in a while." It wasn't entirely far from the truth. I had watched Forensic Files last night. Just not by myself like I normally did.

"Uh huh. That's good. Did you watch it alone or did you have company?" Catherine probed without getting exactly to the question she and I both knew she wanted to ask.

"Catherine, please don't run this game. Ask what you really wanna ask." I said, stopping in the middle of the hallway and facing the older woman.

"Are you and Gil seeing each other now?" Would that have been so difficult to ask without the mind games she was trying to play?

"No." I lied steadily. "We're friends and colleagues, Catherine. Nothing more and nothing less."

"Hmm... What a shame. And I was about to congratulate you with an 'about damn time'." Catherine said with a still knowing tone. She wasn't convinced.

"I guess you'll just have to reserve that for someone else." I replied before continuing on my trek toward the breakroom. But there was just a certain look on Catherine's face after I began to turn that caused me to stop mid-turn. It was a look of guilt now. Her confident facade had fallen off the face of the Earth and was replaced with its polar opposite cousin. "What is it Catherine?"

"Umm..." Hesitation didn't reassure me of what was bothering her would be a necessarily good thing in my regard. "You may run into a few people that may be congratulating you now..."

After that moment, everything I'd previously been thinking of – Nick's coffee order as well as mine – was washed away like sand in the undertow from the waves back in California. I didn't want to stand around long enough to get a definitive answer on what exactly she meant. As a matter of fact, I just wanted to forget what she'd just said completely.

Not even two full days into our relationship and rumors are already being spread off of assumptions. Just great.

Thoughts swarmed in and out of my head as I followed the routine path to the breakroom. What about when word gets to Ecklie? What about our jobs? Will one of us have to transfer just to continue our relationship or will we be forced to end it?

All of the thoughts that Grissom most likely had thought up and was cautious about before we established our relationship swarmed through my head like a hive of bees who's nest had been disturbed. The thought was rather unsettling, to tell the truth. I suddenly began to understand Grissom's hesitation in the beginning. I loved my job too, and I could easily choose Grissom over it, but still. It's the fact. That reputation of "sleeping with the boss" would stick with me no matter what, no matter what lab I went to next.

Damn you Catherine. Damn you and your gossip.

I stopped myself mid-stride and forced myself to lean against the wall just around the corner from my destination. Calm down Sidle. Word hasn't even reached Ecklie yet and you're already taking this to the extreme extent.

Part of me wanted to call Grissom right now and inform him of the latest piece of gossip running through the Rumor Mill of the lab, and most likely the PD by now. And then the other part of me said that it could wait and that he didn't need to be stressed out by this rumor like I was right now. And then the final part of me just wanted to just go around to every person in this building and say that anything they'd heard in regards to Grissom and myself was completely and absolutely false.

But then again, that wouldn't be the most sane course of action, now would it? I would come off as paranoid and that would only enforce they're thoughts that Grissom's relationship with me was factual.

Just let tonight be over with already, please... I begged as I got up from my spot on the wall and continued into the breakroom. Black, no sugar. Cream and sugar. Black, no sugar. Cream and sugar. Black, no sugar... The mantra repeated in my head like a bad nursery rhyme.

Midway through the second cup, Nicky's cup, Bobby Dawson took the liberty of entering the breakroom that had until then only been occupied by me. He sent me a kind smile as he approached the coffee machine, my own makeshift smile being sent back in return.

"So, Sara? I heard you and Grissom finally got together, huh?" His southern voice quickly asked as he took his first sip.

"That's a complete rumor Bobby. Please tell me you didn't join the Rumor Mill and spread that around." I had already expected Bobby to say his piece before he even said it.

A sheepish look crossed his face as he set his cup down and ran his hand through his overly curly hair. "I may have contributed to it, but it was only to Archie. He can be trusted, right?"

I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought of how far the rumor had gotten now. With no offense intended to the audio/visual technician, he had as big a motor mouth as Catherine when he wanted to and would only refrain if someone of higher authority told him not to say a word. And I could say confidently that someone of a higher power had come around to tell him not to say a word, and Bobby hardly qualified as a higher authority.

Exiting the breakroom, it suddenly occurred to me about Nick's look and why it had replicated Catherine's from when shift first started. Word must've also gotten to him.

Nick wouldn't dare spread a rumor without consulting with the person in question first. I thought with a reassurance to myself as I made my way back toward the layout room.

"Nick... Please tell me you haven't heard that rumor yet about Grissom and me." Was my greeting to the Texan as I entered the room again.

Looking up from a picture he was examining under a magnifying glass, now observing me under the glass. Lowering the magnifier from his eye, he put on one of those smiles that spoke all the words he couldn't.

"You didn't spread it, did you?" I asked with a pleading look in my eyes now.

"Of course not, Sar! I would never do that before finding out if it was true or not first." Nick was quick to defend himself. Then a disconcerted expression crossed his looks. "So is it true?"

For some odd reason, I couldn't lie right away. Not with Nick. Blame it on his look of innocence or the fact that we were on a level of friendship that touched base with a sibling type one, but I couldn't lie to the man. Or at least, not right away. "No, it's not."

Now a look of disbelief replaced the almost bashful expression. "C'mon Sar... Everyone has known since you showed up that you and the boss have had a thing for each other." A smile lit up his face when he caught the slight blush I gave away on accident. "I, for one, would be happy for you two. If anyone deserves a chance at happiness, it's you two."

"You mean you wouldn't judge us if we were?" I questioned as I sat next to him, handing him his coffee.

"What right would I have to judge your relationship? Of course, if Grissom was acting up and not treating you anything other than a princess, then I might just have to step in..." We shared a laugh between each other. "So it is true then?"

Reluctantly, I gave a nod of my head, deciding that if I was going to be truthful with anyone, it would be Nick. "Yeah... Promise not to tell anyone?"

"I wouldn't even dream of it." A victorious smile rounded its way onto his lips now. "But why would you think that I, or anyone, would judge you for your relationship with Grissom?"

"Isn't that obvious?" I awaited his reply, which was a shake of his head. "People would get the wrong impression if they knew only the basic facts: I'm sleeping with the boss."

"Well of course when you put it like that, it's gonna sound wrong. But it's nothing like that." Nicky shook his head vehemently. "Anyone with eyes can see that it's not like that."

His words seemed to almost lifted a weight that'd placed itself on my shoulders, comforting me with his thoughts. "Thanks Nick." I said sincerely.

"Anytime, Sar. Oh, and by the way..." I turned to him when he left the sentence in the air. "I already told Archie not to spread the rumor around... No worries about this reaching Ecklie."

Sometimes, the people I work with are godsends.

Brooke's POV:

Swinging my arms back and forth with balled up fists attached at the end, I laid haymaker after haymaker punches into my opponent's face. It was the only thing I could do to keep alive at this moment. I've had my hands tied since Taj mysteriously dropped out of this match. It was a two-on-one fight and they weren't willing to even set me up with another partner.

I'm getting my ass beat.

I had things under control at the moment, but these matches are never predicable. They always are changing tides. And my change of tide had only occurred when I picked up a baseball bat someone had thrown inside the ring and I momentarily knocked my current opponent's partner unconscious. I could sense the downed man, Stix, already stirring back to life behind me as I laid punch after punch into Mack.

And while it looked like I had this match under my belt already, I was one step away from passing out. This was the third match I'd gone through, and the second match I'd gone through by myself. The last match, Taj resigned and left me to fight on my own. This fact, all on its own, pissed me off and fueled my adrenaline to keep going, but one could only go on for so long.

Mack made a miraculous come by as I was about to pull a knock out move on him by reaching out and clenching my fist into his rather large hands. A wave of sharp pain ran up and down my arm and shoulder as he practically crushed my hand by squeezing it. It was a little bit like playing Mercy with a professional body builder, I figured as he forced me to my knees. The haziness took the liberty to settle in, causing me to give up faster than I would've originally.

The rumble in the ground as I felt the approach of Stix, Mack's partner, did nothing to reassure I had a victory under my belt. The moment I felt the boulders for arms the man had wrap under my left arm and neck like a seatbelt, I knew this match was going to them unless I pulled something out of my ass like magic.

Please Taj... Help me. I thought hopelessly as I felt Stix hoist me into the air in the position he had me in, and Mack took a hold of my legs to stretch me out. Please help me.

The stretch of my body had me writhing in pain, but when Stix actually tossed me toward Mack while Mack was still holding onto my legs, my stomach became queasy at the thought of what their combo was. It became oblivious clear as went flying into the ground from him slamming my body into it as if I were a pick being used to mine gold. From that position, he swung me around in a circular formation and released so that I rammed into his partner, who was obviously expecting it as he latched onto my shirt and whirled me around his body as if I were a basketball and released me to go flying into the metal bar sidings.

My back collided with the bars as I dropped to the floor, barely moving. I made feeble attempts to cling to the bars to hoist myself back up at least into a sitting position. Each one failed miserably, leaving me still as a pile of worthless meat. A pile of worthless, useless, and unsuccessful human.

I felt the two men looming over me, watching for anymore movements from me. If I moved, they'd kill me and if I didn't, I'd be giving up. The pride in me wouldn't settle for just giving up and yet getting killed wasn't such a great option either. Up the creek without a paddle.

"Do you give up yet, bitch?" Stix questioned with a snarl as he bent down to my level, snatch me upwards by the collar of my shirt.

"Fuck you, puta." I whispered hoarsely before spitting blood into his face.

Snatching me up and forcing me on my feet, he placed the back of my neck against the top bar of the three sets of metal bars, pressing his protruding forearm firmly against my throat, cutting off my airway. The more I struggled, the more he applied pressure. Mack assisted his partner by pinning my arms along the metal bar I was pinned against.

"Give up now or I will snap your neck like a pretzel stick." He threatened, pulling out a taser from his backpocket and pressing it into my stomach.

"Turn it up all the way, bitch! Turn it up!" I yelled at him, rising up against his forearm.

The electrifying waves coursed through my entire body when he pulled it up to one-hundred volts and pulled the trigger on the stun gun. All of my muscles contracted as I took every wave of electricity without a cry of pain. Frustration was written clear as day across Stix's face at the fact that I wasn't succumbing to the pain I was obviously feeling. Tears formed in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. A scream of pain nestled into the back of my throat, but I made sure that's where it stayed.

I don't know how much more I can take.

When Stix dropped the stun gun and fell to the floor, Mack soon joining him on the floor next to him, I didn't fully register who was to thank for saving me. Black lines raced across my eyes blurring and obscuring my vision, but I soon discovered that it had been an observer who had driven a screwdriver through both of their ankles.

For a moment in time, I was afraid I would actually join them on the floor and it would be a tie, so to speak. I was in between a conscious state and unconscious. Too many blows to the head had left me barely able to see an inch in front of my face, if able to see at all. This was the most vulnerable state I had possibly been in my entire life. I was like a newborn left to fend for itself with no help at all. You might as well have slapped a diaper on my ass and shoved a bottle in my mouth and told me to suck at this point. But somehow, I still managed to pull myself up to lean against the railing in a better position than my slumping one had been. And though I couldn't see a damn thing, I still looked out into the crowd, pumping them up for the event.

"And it looks like we have our winner! Just barely though." The announcer spoke into the microphone as I stumbled out of the ring.

Last fight... Against Rai and his partner. Great. I'm gonna get killed.

TBC...

A/N2: So there you go... Please, review? Please? I'm not asking you to commit federal offenses for me here, or confess an undying love for me! Just a simple review! Please?

Peace out, one love,
MC New York