A/N: Sorry, sorry to all for the late update, but RL got in the way. Thanks for the great reviews you folks sent me, I loved each of them, once again sorry if I hadn't replied to it. Thanks also to my beta TangledPencils for her great job.

Now go on and read the story

Fire and water

by Nicol Leoraine

Chapter 9

The blinds on the windows threw the break room into semi-darkness, even if outside was a hot and sunny day. Several people walked in, only to see the hunched form sleeping on the couch. Some of them grabbed something from the fridge and took a moment to enjoy the quietness of the room while the halls were buzzing with people. Others simply closed the door and left the sleeping form alone. Nick never stirred.

He'd been working in the conference room, losing the fight with sleepHe'd been trying to cover his yawning more and more, without success as the two other men threw him annoyed looks but stayed silent, knowing that they were getting closer to the killer and that every minute could count. They desperately wanted to stop Jonah before another person died. So they worked, waiting for the results of several tests, while trying to discern where Jonah could've been hiding and just who was the other man, the professional behind the murders.

They'd just finished lunch in the conference room when Ecklie simply kicked them out, stating that he had a meeting to attend and that they were taking his place. Grissom just then realised how much time had run by and with a sigh the three men gathered their files and evidence. But none of them thought of going home. Grissom closed himself off in his own office while Brass left for the station, trying to dig up some information and maybe convince the judge to let them see Jonah's juvenile records.

Once the two men went their respective ways, Nick changed his path towards the elevators and instead headed to the break room. He was too tired to drive himself home and one look at his watch told him it would be futile, anyhow. He had four hours to the start of his shift and he would probably spend two of them in traffic just on the way home and then back to work. He could get two hours sleep just as well on the couch in the break room than on his own. Knowing how ridden was the day shift by Ecklie, he sincerely doubted they would use the room.

He got exactly two hours and ten minutes of sleep, when the ringing of his cell phone startled him from a rather pleasant dream. He growled and grabbed for the offending phone that was still shrilling oppressively.

"Stokes" he barked, once he managed to open the thing.

"Nick, it's me, Travis. I think you should come."

The tone in which it was said made Nick frown, and he rubbed at his eyes, trying to drive away the last vestiges of sleep.

"What's going on, Trav?" he asked a little more lucidly.

"I found him."

"Found who?" Nick asked, feeling something roll in his stomach. He didn't like the tone of Travis' voice. It was distant and cold.

"The killer. You better come."

xxxxxx

Nick scrambled off the couch, almost falling when his leg got caught in the corner. With a curse he get off the thing and quickly straightened his clothes, the thought of sleep long gone. He managed to get an address from Travis, but nothing else when the man simply hung up on him. Nick didn't have a clue how the man could've found the killer when the police hadn't managed itbut he wasn't about to sit there and ask idle questions. It might be the real killer, and in that case Travis was in danger. If it wasn't, well then Travis could get into some pretty big trouble. By the tone of his voice Nick assumed that his friend wasn't planning on just sitting around and waiting for the cops to arrest the criminal. He wanted revenge first.

So Nick headed for the locker room and took out his gun. He rarely wore it if he was in the lab, so for most of the time, the gun rested in the locker. He checked it was loaded and put on a holster. He didn't really like to wear it when it was so hot outside, because he couldn't put on his jacket and nothing hid the gun from prying eyes.

When he was ready to leave, the car keys already dangling from his fingers, he heard a slight cough as if someone was clearing his throat. Startled, he turned and clenched his jaw to muffle the curse.

"Grissom," he acknowledged the older man and stood, waiting. There was no way Grissom would overlook his attire.

"I thought you went home."

"Yeah well, I grabbed some shut eye on the couch. Saw no sense in going home." Nick said a little annoyed and looked at his watch nervously.

"Going somewhere?" Grissom asked, moving his head in question.

Nick took in the pose, the one that was often reserved for the interrogation room and let out a sigh. Did he really want to deal with this alone?

"Travis called me. He said he knew where the killer is. Gave me an address so I thought I would head there."

Now Grissom frowned, for once looking angry.

"Alone?" he asked and Nick clenched his jaw, knowing there would be a reprimand coming. He wasn't mistaken.

"What the hell are you thinking, Nick? You shouldn't even talk with Travis Andrews and now you're going after him hot headed with a gun, prepared to nail his wife's killer? Are you crazy?"

"Damn it, I don't want to nail anyone!" Nick shouted and shook his head in frustration. "Look, we're losing timehere. We can argue in the car just the same, but I want to get going. I doubt Travis found the real killer, and I definitely don't want him to lash out at some innocent guy."

Grissom was silent for a moment and Nick was ready to just push around him and leave, when the criminalist nodded.

"Let me get my own gun," he said and turned away, throwing over his shoulder, "Get the car Nick and wait for me there. And call Jim."

Nick was left in the locker room, for a moment unable to move. Then he blinked and the surprise was gone, leaving him with the need to get moving and find out just what Travis had been doing in the last twenty-four hours. He walked out of the room and headed for the parking lot to get the car. Only in the elevator did he realise what Grissom said last and he couldn't suppress the groan that escaped. He still had to call Brass. Perfect.

ooOOoo

Travis was getting nervous. It was more then twenty minutes ago that he called Nick and the man wasn't here yet.

He was starting to loose his patience. Travis wasn't even sure why he called Nick. Maybe he was scared. He thought the criminalist was more his friend than a cop and that maybe they could make the killer pay before giving him to the cops. And what if Travis wanted to beat the crap out of the scum that killed his wife? It was justice.

The only problem with that was that Travis still wasn't sure the young guy that he followed from downtown had anything to do with Jamie's deathHe'd been more than surprised when the other man entered the building. So he called, maybe hoping to get some assurance that it was the right guy. Or he just felt a sudden rush of fear and didn't want to deal with it alone. Either way, Nick was late and Travis bit down hard on his lip, his fist hitting the wheel. He threw one last glance at the clock in the control panel.

Shaking his head in frustration, he opened the door and reached for the baseball bat that lay on the backseat. Without backup, he would find out who killed Jamie. He made it as far as two steps from the car, when the front door opened and two men exited the building. Scowling in the harsh daylight it took him a second to realise it was 'them' and that they were heading towards the older guy's car. There was no way he could get to them before they reached it, so Travis quickly returned to his black Landrover, shut the door and waited. When he saw the other car was moving out, he started the engine and followed it.

ooOOoo

Something was wrong. He knew it even before he entered the apartment. Seeing Jonah pacing across the room, hands nervously twitching, he knew that something was very wrong.

"I told you not to leave this building," he spoke as soon as Jonah sensed his presence. The youth's eyes went wide and he took few faltering steps toward his Master, hands raised in surrender.

"I-I'm sorry, Master," Jonah stuttered and hung his head, his whole body shaking with fear.

The man that caused this reaction let out a frustrated hiss and the muscles on his face twitched, but Jonah didn't see that, because he was currently paying great attention to the carpeting.

"Jonah." The single word was uttered in a half whisper, but Jonah's head shot up as if it was shouted on top of his lungs.

"M-Master?"

"What – happened?" the Master asked, each word precisely formulated as if he was speaking to a child and not surprisingly, Jonah reacted just like a child scowled at by his parents. His body shrunk and he hastily, half stuttering, relayed the events to his Master. Then he waited. And waited. Finally, when the silence became unbearable, he looked up and cringed at the angry look on the Master's face. But surprisingly, there was also something else and for a second Jonah sawa glint of fear and doubt in his Master's eyesIt was only there for a second and Jonah's mind was still clouded by the effects of the crystal meth he'd taken a few hours ago, so he dismissed the reaction as an illusion.

"Why did you defy my order?"

"I-I just t-thought-" Jonah started, but stopped when the Master growled, clearly not interested in the reply.

"You lied to me!" the man bellowed and took two steps toward the boy, raising his hand, ready to hit, but he stopped in mid motion and instead shook his head, looking disgusted and disappointed. In that moment, Jonah wanted to be hit. He wanted the Master to beat him senseless if that could wipe away that disappointment. He whimpered and took a step toward the man, hoping to redeem himself.

"I'm sorry, Master. Tell me what should I do to make it all right, please, and I will do it. Anything. Just don't..."

"Do not what, Jonah?" the Master looked at him questioningly. "What should I not do?" he pressed.

"Don't leave. Don't be disappointed. I couldn't take it, Master." Jonah said in a whisper, than hung his head, unable to look into his Master's eyes. He heard a sigh and footsteps, then the sound of the drapes being moved and looked up, curious. The other man was standing by the window, his face frowning with concentration.

"Did someone follow you, Jonah?" the sudden question surprised him and he silently shook his head, then replied.

"No, Master. I made sure that no police car was behind me. I don't think they even realised I was there."

"I wasn't talking about the cops, Jonah. Come here. Take a look at those cars and then tell me which one you haven't seen parked on this street before."

Jonah walked to the window and changed places with his Master, carefully moving the drapes so that he wouldn't be seen but so he could take a good look at the street below. It took him a minute, but his eyes finally rested on the black Landrover with tinted windows and with a shrinking feeling in his stomach he realised that he'd seenthe car earlier that day. He'd noticed it because of the dark glass that wasn't usual. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he pulled back from the window and nodded at his Master.

"The black Landrover. I've seen it before."

"Where?" the Master asked, even though he already suspectedthe answer.

"At my parent's building, when I jumped down the fire escape. It was parked at the end of the street."

The master threw him another look that made it clear what he thought about Jonah's actions and Jonah ran his hand through his hair, pulling at it nervously.

"D-do you think they're cops?"

"No," the master replied, this time lost in his own thoughts. "I don't think so. For one reason. The cops aren't using that kind of car and they would've been already busting through this door. No, this is someone else."

"What are we going to do?" Jonah asked anxiously and this time the Master answered him with a smile that sent shivers through his spine.

"Grab your bag. We're going to take care of some business."

TBC

Okay, next chapter will come sooner and will bring some much awaited action, so stay tuned,

and drop a line if you feel like it, lol.