I do not own CSI.

Rated: M for suggestive themes.

See what a little positive reinforcement does?

You got me writing again...and so I updated within hours. Sweeeet!

This long chapter is about what happens once that exit door flings open.

Warrick has found her...and so the fallout out ensues...

Keep reviewing and I promise...I'll keep on writing!

When the door swung open it startled Jared as he was just getting his zipper down. His body jerked back a bit and he looked at Warrick agitated.

"Busy out here, man, try again later," he told him with his hand still on his opened zipper.

Warrick's mouth fell open and he looked at Trista slumped against the wall.

"TRISTA!" he yelled again.

Trista let her head roll toward Warrick slowly. She stared at him before her head bobbed and weaved. She wasn't sure she should tell him to help her or tell him to leave her alone…to just let her be stupid and let her not care anymore.

"Warrrrick?" she slurred. It was the only thing she managed to get out of her mouth.

Jared looked shocked when he heard Trista say Warrick's name. He could barely get her to talk a minute ago and here she was recognizing the voice of a stranger. And then he realized, at that minute, by the look on Warrick's face, that not only did this girl know this guy but… this guy was horrified and enraged.

He stood frozen with his hand still on his zipper just staring at Warrick.

Warrick stormed out of the club into the alley; he pushed Jared with all his might causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground away from Trista.

"Dude! What the fuck! She wanted it! She's been all over me, man!" Jared yelled from the ground.

Warrick looked down at him, "You know she is fucking wasted!" he screamed.

He looked over and saw Trista slide down the wall and fall to the ground and onto her butt.

"You all right, Trist?" he asked her unsure.

Trista looked up at him and just stared. She was unable to speak but her thoughts were going full speed ahead.

Warrick couldn't hear her thoughts…. If he could he would hear her telling him that she was sorry. Telling him that she is self destructing in order to make her not feel anything for him. She didn't want to ruin her relationship with Jules, Emma or Nick. She didn't want to lose him either. She needed to punish herself for feeling this way…for even considering jeopardizing things. How dare she be so selfish? How dare she think she loved him like this? She is so stupid.

If Warrick could have heard her thoughts, he would also have heard her begging him to rescue her from herself, but instead he heard her voice instead.

"I'm fine, Warrick, what's your problem?" her head bobbed and she tried to get up.

"LOOK AT YOU!" he yelled.

"Leave her alone, Dude, she is fine!" Jared said to Warrick. "Krista, tell him you and I are together here.

Warrick shot him a look. He didn't even bother to correct him that her name is not even Krista. He simply ignored him and walked over to Trista.

"Here, I can help you, come on," he told her and held her arm.

She tried hard to get up but was failing miserably so she allowed Warrick to hold her arm for a minute.

"Hey, Pal, how about you go find your own girl?" Jared said also getting up from the ground. "Do you know how long she and I have been out here?" he said annoyed that he hadn't banged this broad yet. "Krista! Tell him! Tell him you wanted to come out here!"

"Hey dirt bag, how about you get yourself up and get the fuck out of here before I beat you senseless?" he yelled at him.

Warrick's loud voice made her head hurt.

"Warrick, just stop…"

"Look at me, Trist, look at me," he said trying to look in her eyes.

Warrick was trying to check to see how dilated her pupils were. He was getting concerned by the way she could hardly stand or communicate.

Trista opened and closed her eyes slowly a few times trying to get her focus back.

"Listen, the chick is with me," Jared insisted.

"HEY SCUM BAG! I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE…DON'T YOU FUCKING GET IT?" Warrick said losing his patience with Jared so much so that he let go of her arm.

Trista leaned against the bricks to hold herself up.

Warrick walked over to Jared and grabbed the front of his shirt.

"WARRICK! Stop it…" she slurred and pushed off against the bricks.

She tripped a few times as she came closer. She held her hand out and used the brick wall to help hold her up again.

Looking over at Warrick, she heard the words she didn't mean come out of her mouth, "I don't want to be with you…I'm with him," she yelled her statement although she was not sure why…it wasn't true…but even at her drunkest she was sure she had to push him away.

Warrick spun around and glared at her, "I DON'T CARE IF YOU WANT TO BE WITH ME OR NOT! BUT RIGHT NOW, TRISTA, YOU ARE COMING WITH ME!"

"Hey, didn't you hear what she said? She is with ME, get over it, man! YOU LOST!" Jared continued to press Warrick's buttons.

Warrick had enough of this little punk trying to get a piece.

"Listen you little bastard, you are trying to take advantage of a drunk girl…you are a low life piece of shit…but I am gonna give you one last chance to walk out of this alley or else I will call my buddies at the LVPD and make your life a living hell!"

"War…rrrrick!" Trista slurred before she slid down the bricks and onto her butt hard.

Warrick didn't help her up yet, instead he turned and pushed Jared hard, egging him on.

"Warrick!" Trista yelled from her seat on the ground. "Ohhhhh biiiiig baaaaad, Warrick…No, wait, I'm sorry, no, I mean…CSI Brown…yeah, LVPD's finest! Saves the worrrrlllld!" she slurred before breaking out into the Mighty Mouse theme song, "Here he comes to save the day!"

Jared was about to push Warrick back, even though he wasn't all that sure he could take this tall man, but then he heard the words coming from the drunken girl's mouth. He stood still and stared at Warrick, then looked at Trista and back to Warrick.

"You're a cop? Oh FUCK THIS SHIT!" he yelled shaking his head. "YOU can have the tramp…" he said and took off fast out of the alley.

Warrick was seething mad that the little yuppie punk called Trista a tramp but he let it go.

He instead turned back to Trista.

Warrick crouched down next to her and grabbed her from under her armpit lifting her up with ease. He had her on her feet just as she pulled her arm out of his grip and pushed him.

"Fuck you, Warrick! You coming there for followin' me now? Come all here and shit" she yelled not exactly making sense.

"Come on, Honey, I am gonna get you…"

"I'M NOT YOUR HONEY!" she screamed at him.

Those words seem to wake Trista right up. It was as if Warrick hit a trip wire and a bomb went off.

"Whoa, I just meant…"

"NO! NO! YOU THINK I'M YOUR HONEY…YOU THINK THAT BECAUSE YOU FUCKED ME…AND YOU WANT TO AGAIN…I'M NOT YOUR …I CAN'T BE YOUR ANYTHING…NOT ANYTHING…FUCK WITH MY HEAD…IN IT…YOU CAN'T BE IN IT!" she jumbled some of her words.

"Trista, stop it!" he said quietly trying to get her to lower her voice.

"Don't tell me what to do! Not listening anything to you! You…you don't own me…you don't know what and that's what…yeah!"

"WHATTTT? Trist, you don't even know what you are saying," he sighed loudly.

"I do to! I know, Warrick…I know that you can't make me love you because it ain't gonna happen!" she pointed at him.

Warrick felt the jab in his heart but he shook it off.

"That's fine, Hon…Trista," he corrected himself fast, "That's fine…don't love me…just come with me so I can get you home," he spoke softer, "You don't love me…I get it, but let me still take you home."

"Damn right I don't! I don't love you! I fucking don't love you, I said!" she protested.

"I got it…I got it…I'm sorry you are so upset…I'm sorry I let you see how much I love…" Warrick stopped short of finishing his sentence.

He nearly chocked on his own spit. Was he about to tell her he loved her? His body froze in shock and he could only stare at her with his mouth hanging open.

As drunk as Trista was, she heard him. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head slowly as if she was sizing him up, trying to understand if she heard him right.

"NO! NO! NO!" she shook her head. "You are a liar! You are a player and have been all your life, Warrick…you forget? I know you! You forget? I known you since we were teenagers… I know you! You don't love anybody but yourself…and your Baby Girl and your Tiny! You can't fool me, Warrick! You can't," she stumbled in her heated rant.

Warrick caught her as she tripped and she stiffened up.

He had a lump in his throat and he wasn't sure exactly why. Was it because he just realized how much he loved her? Was it because it broke his heart to see her in such an emotional state that she drank herself into a bad situation. She could have gotten hurt if he hadn't found her when he did. It made him sick to think of that prick's hands all over her. It hurt him that she was so hurt by his feelings for her…he didn't understand why it tore her up so much. But, he assumed it was because he made her so uncomfortable... because she didn't feel the same.

"Trista, I…I…."

"No! None of this 'I…I…I,' Warrick!" she mocked him. "I am not ice cream…"

"What?" Warrick said and furrowed up his face confused by her comment. "WHAT are you talking about?"

"You know it's true…you go through women like they are flavors of the week! I am just…I don't need this…I don't need to feel anything for you! I don't want to feel it when I see you…that feeling that makes me scared inside….I don't…and I DON'T! I WON'T…nope…I don't and no! no! no!"

"You don't have to, Trista…you don't have to…it's okay…" he whispered and she let him hold on to her to keep her steady.

"I need them! I need Emma in my life!" she jerked back and yelled letting tears fall down her cheeks now. "Don't take that from me just because you want to try me out and then leave me!

"Emma? What does my niece have to do with this?"

"OUR niece…I AM ANN TESTA! ME! I AM ANN TESTA! I need that little girl in my life!"

"You are not making sense, Trista, come on, let me get you to my truck."

"I AM! I am making sense! You'd hurt me...wouldn't work...Jules...she...YOU...How could I be around YOU again? How much pain it would cause…if you…just like Danny…my father…all of them…"

So many thoughts raced through Warrick's brain and they didn't stop until he realized he was just standing still staring at her.

"Trist, I…" he shook his head and took a deep breathe to clear his head, "I am gonna get you home and you are gonna be okay…you'll forget all about this."

Warrick hadn't seen Trista cry in years and seeing her so torn up pulled his heart apart. He knew she was drunk. Her sentences were all over the place but he was good at puzzles. He knew what it was she was saying.

"I don't want to go with you, Warrick! I am gonna go back inside and I am gonna dance. When I dance…I don't have to feel…No, wait, no…I am gonna go back inside, get another drink and then dance…" she re-thought her first plan and added some alcohol to her second one.

"Yeah? Well, hate to break it to ya, Sweetheart, but that door right there," he pointed and she turned her head to look, "…it's locked."

Trista scrunched up her face; she knew he was right.

"Well, to the other side then I will walk !" she mumbled before leaning down to pick up her purse that had long since been strewn all over the asphalt.

As she crouched down and began throwing her lipstick, her compact, and a few crumpled up receipts back into her purse, she wobbled and fell on to her knees. She felt the sting of the gravel and debris tear through her skin, but she didn't care. She continued to stay on her knees, allowing the tiny rocks and shards of broken bottles to grind themselves deeper through her skin. She would rather feel the hurt of the pavement than the pain in her heart.

Warrick bent down and picked up her wallet, a tiny sample bottle of perfume, one of Emma's hair bows, two crumpled up ten dollar bill, and her keys and threw them back in her purse. As he closed her purse for her their eyes meet and lock. He wanted to touch her face and kiss her but he wouldn't dare do that to her anymore. He wouldn't make her hurt by feeling so pressured like he did before. He upset her enough. And so, he swallowed his feelings, and stood back up.

Trista looked up from her purse and her stare met his green eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek but her arms were too numb. She wanted to feel his amazing kiss again but the pain in her knees did exactly what she was hoping it would do…it made her focus on the pain of the gravel and broken glass digging into her skin instead of the pain of her feelings digging into her heart. And so, she swallowed her feelings and went to stand up…but instead…she fell over.

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Warrick said grabbing her.

He didn't even noticed that her knees were scrapped, gashed, and bleeding. He just managed to grab her under her arms and pull her to her feet. Once he got her on her feet, she began her tirade again and he smiled softly at her.

"Why are you smiling, Dumbass?" she yelled. "Is this funny to you? Move, I am walking to the front of this place."

"Trista, you can't even stand, never mind walk!"

"Shut up…you don't know shit, Asshole," she told him.

She tried to move but she tripped out of her sandals, nearly falling flat on her face.

Warrick shook his head and did what he should have done twenty minutes ago. He grabbed her waist, threw her up over his shoulder and let her dangle behind him. She was too drunk to protest anymore. He held her with his one arm and reached up and pulled her dress down over her butt to keep it from showing as he walked with her. He reached down, grabbed her sandals and took her with him back to his truck. His only worry at that point was to get her back to his truck without someone thinking he was a rapist or kidnapper.

He sighed loudly at that thought, "Trista, you are really making me pay for my sins here, Girl," he shook his head nervously but continued walking out of the ally.

Trista didn't make a sound even when he leaned her softly against his truck, opened the door, and placed her gently on the seat. He threw her purse and sandals onto the floor in front of her and closed the door. As he got into the driver's side of his truck he blew out a sigh of relief. Maybe he was just being paranoid from all the crimes he has looked over, but he couldn't help but think he was lucky that no one was around to see him put a barely conscious young lady into his vehicle.

"You're gonna get me locked up, Trist," he whispered as he looked over at her.

He smiled softly at her sleeping face, reached over and let the back of his index finger stroke the side of her cheek.

"…your just lucky I love you."

He stared at her, knowing it was the first time in many, many years that he said those words.

He loved her.

He admitted it.

And he looked at her and shook his head and whispered….

…."There…I said it...and it's true."