Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. I wish I did, but alas it is not to be. Please don't sue.

Chapter 1

She came back around and poured him another cup of coffee. He took the time to look up at her name tag before smiling at her. "Thanks…Jessica?" He was awarded with a shy smile before she blushed and turned away. He felt confident. He had her name and he received a smile. He grinned. "Jessica?" She turned around and faced him. He gave her his biggest smile. "Hi, I'm Nick."

Nick held out his hand. She took it and shook it. "Hi, Nick."

Nick grinned again and began to talk to her. His attention was so focused on the beautiful redhead, he almost never heard the gunshots coming from the alley.

But, he did hear them and so did every cop in the diner. Time slowed as he watched the cops instinctively stand, draw their weapons and head for the door, asking the customers to get down. He was about to get down with the other customers and let the officers do their job when a feeling of dread passed over him. He felt sick. He looked to the redhead, then to door. He sprinted out the door with the cops. When he rounded the corner, he saw Warrick's car and stopped dead in his tracks. "Warrick!"

Nick sprinted towards the car, passing the cops on his way by. He ignored the glass from the shattered window, focusing only on the body leaning against the door. He threw open the drivers side door and caught Warrick's limp body as it fell into his arms. Quickly, he checked for a pulse. When he couldn't find one, he could only cry. "God, Warrick, no…no."

Blood seeped down onto his shirt as he held his friend in his arms. He didn't see any of the activity going on around him. He never saw the police fan out in a search for the shooter. He never heard the police radio the shooting in. He only stirred when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. "Come on Nick."

He choked back his tears and shook his head. "Go find who did this."

"Everybody else is looking. I stayed to watch the scene, Nick. You have to let him go."

Nick continued to shake his head vigorously. "Come on Nick. The CSI's will be here soon. They'll need to process him when they arrive." Nick sighed and looked up at the officer. "We'll find him Nick."

He was reluctant as he let go of Warrick. He stood up and watched as Warrick's body dangled out of the car. He turned around and walked up to the back of the one of the buildings. Releasing his anger, he punched the building, instantly feeling his hand breaking. "Fuck!" He held his hand to his body. Blood began seeping from his hand to his clothing where it mixed with Warrick's blood. He turned around and slowly slid down the building until he was sitting, knee bent, on the ground. He looked from his hand to Warrick and continued to cry.

He wasn't aware of how long he sat there and cried. He cried until he ran out of tears. He watched as emergency personnel arrived on the scene. He looked up when he saw Ecklie approach. "Nick, I need your shirt."

Nick nodded. He began to undo the buttons, wincing in pain as the fingers of his broken hand maneuvered the buttons through the holes. He handed his shirt to Ecklie. Ecklie bagged the shirt and looked down at Nick, sympathetically. "I'm sorry Nick."

New tears began to form in his eyes. He nodded as he looked up at Ecklie. "Has anyone called Grissom yet?"

Ecklie shook his head. "Not yet. I was about to."

"Let me do it?"

Ecklie nodded. "I'll leave you alone to make your call."

"Ecklie?" He watched Ecklie look back down. He looked Ecklie in the eye. "Thanks."

Ecklie nodded before walking away.

Nick sat for a few moments before taking a deep breath and pulling his cell from his pocket with his good hand. He flipped it open and hit the speed dial.

Grissom opened his door and was greeted by an enthusiastic boxer. "Hey Hank." He patted the dog on the way to the couch.

He grabbed the portable phone as he sat down. He turned it on and hit the speed dial. He smiled when she answered on the first ring. "Hello beautiful."

He grinned as he told her Warrick had been released. As he talked, he allowed himself to let out all the emotions he had been harboring over the past couple of days. He felt relief as the weight fell off his shoulders. He told her he missed her and smiled when she repeated the sentiment. He was about to ask her how she was doing when the ringing of his cell phone interrupted their conversation. He looked down at the call display. "Sara, Nick's calling my cell. I'll have to call you back." He smiled as they both hung up reluctantly. He flipped open his cell. "Grissom." His smile and all the color dropped from his face as he listened to Nick's shaky voice on the other end. When Nick was finished speaking, he struggled to find his voice. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll be right there."

Grissom pulled up to the diner and noticed the flurry of activity. The dayshift coroner was examining Warrick's body as it hung out of the car. The driver's side window was shattered, the passenger side, wide open. The Under Sheriff was barking orders, Ecklie was processing the scene and Nick was sitting bare-chested with his back leaning on the building. Then, he noticed was the detective. The detective on the scene was the same detective that had been assigned to the Gedda case.

Grissom stormed over to Ecklie. "Conrad, I want a different detective on this case."

Ecklie looked up at Grissom in shock. "He was only doing his job, Gil."

"I don't care, I want another detective."

Ecklie nodded. "I'll see what I can do. I'm really sorry Gil. The department will do everything we can."

Grissom looked down at Warrick before looking back to Ecklie. He shook his head slowly. "Thanks Conrad."

Grissom looked towards Nick and moved towards him, but was intercepted by the Under Sheriff. "Grissom, you can't process. You're too close. Dayshift will process."

"I'm not here to process."

"You shouldn't be here. Stokes already disturbed the scene by opening Brown's car door and holding his body. We don't need any more renegade CSI's making things even harder."

He wanted to yell, blow up at the Under Sheriff, but a quiet resignation took over. He shot the Under Sheriff a quick look before turning to see Nick talking to one of the dayshift CSIs. He headed over and crouched down beside Nick, listening to the young man describe to the CSI how he originally found Warrick's body. The CSI took notes before sympathetically looking over at Grissom and leaving the two men alone.

"Grissom, I'm sorry. I should've left with him."

"This isn't your fault Nick."

"I disturbed the scene."

"You were worried about Warrick."

"This isn't fair."

Grissom placed his hand on Nick's shoulder. "No, it isn't."

Grissom watched as Nick raised his hands up to his forehead. He noticed the dried up blood, caked on Nick's swollen hand. "Nick, what happened?"

"I punched a brick wall."

He gently took Nick's arm, examining the hand. "You need to get that checked out. It looks broken."

Nick sniffled and nodded. "I can't really feel it right now, you know?"

He nodded. He looked up and saw Ecklie standing over them. "Nick, I got you a shirt."

"Thanks."

Grissom stood up and helped Nick up along with him. "Nick, I want you to go to the hospital and get that hand checked out. I'll handle everything here okay? Get one of the officers here to drive you."

Nick nodded and headed towards one of the officers. Grissom turned back to Ecklie. "Can you tell me what you know so far?"

"So far we have no eye witnesses. Dark alley, first on the scene were Nick and a bunch of cops all eating at the diner. They ran out when they heard the shots."

"This place is surrounded by police and nobody could find the shooter? We suspect there was another mole in the department. It could be anybody here."

"There are cops going in and out of PD and the diner all the time. If the shooter is part of the department, he could have easily slipped into one of them without arousing suspicion."

"What about checking all of the firearms?"

Ecklie shook his head. "Who ever shot Warrick, dropped a gun on the passenger's seat. It was in a bag and it doesn't look department issued. The shooter would have been smart enough not to use a department issued weapon. We believe the gun on the seat was the gun used to shoot Warrick. We'll confirm with ballistics."

"Gun was probably wiped clean too?"

"Most likely. It hasn't been printed yet."

"Have you tested all of the officers for GSR?"

"Yes, everyone who was first on the scene. The only person with GSR on them was Stokes."

"Transfer?"

"Most likely. Witnesses all say that Stokes was at the diner when the shots were fired. He ran out and grabbed Warrick's body. We have no reason to believe otherwise."

Grissom ran his hand through his hair. "Anything else?" He watched Ecklie shake his head.

"That's all we know so far. We'll know more when we get the evidence back to the lab."

"Thanks Conrad."

Ecklie nodded. "Sure. You'll let the rest of your team know?"

He nodded and looked around. He saw Brass talking to one of the officers. "Looks like Jim already knows."

Jim looked at the scene and shuttered. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought back to a few hours before when he had told Warrick to remember how lucky he was. Not so lucky anymore. But Warrick had been lucky. He had been with the Crime Lab for eleven years. He should have been fired eight years ago, but Grissom and the team stood behind him and kept standing behind him right through to today. Everything had caught up with him, though and he was shot. Brass looked down at Warrick's body. "If only you hadn't been so intense, so self destructive. Sara moved past it; why couldn't you?" He had grown to respect Warrick over the years. Brass was so lost in his thoughts he never noticed Grissom approach. The sound of his name caused his head to snap up. "Jim."

"Gil."

"Jim, I need a favor." I need to let the team know what happened. I'm going to Catherine's. Greg is heading to LA to meet with an editor. I don't think he's flown out yet. I need you to try to get a hold of him. If he's in the terminal, he might have his cell off, so you'll need to go to the airport, stop him from getting on the plane, and give him the news."

Brass examined the weary face of the night shift supervisor. "Sure."

"Thanks."

He took a deep breath, unsure of how his next question would go over. "Gil, what about Sara?"

He was relieved when Grissom only sighed and swallowed before answering, "I'll call her when I get back from Catherine's."

"Do you want me to tell Catherine so you can call Sara right away?"

"No, I should tell Catherine. Besides, I need you to handle Greg."

"Shouldn't he hear it from you also?"

"Yes, but he's at or on his way to the airport and I don't have time to do both. Catherine should hear it first."

"Okay." He nodded and turned towards his car, pulling out his cell as he walked. After receiving no answer on Greg's cell, he called the airport, asking the manager to check all the airlines for Greg's reservation. When he found out the airline, he called them and asked them to stop Greg from boarding. He headed out to the airport.

Catherine was busy getting ready to drive Lindsay to school. When they were finally ready to go, Catherine walked to the front door and opened it. She was shocked to find Grissom standing outside getting ready to knock. She watched Lindsay slide past them. "I'll wait in the car."

"Yeah." She turned to Grissom. "Hey Gil, what are you doing here?" She looked at his pale face. "Grissom?"

"Cath, it's Warrick…"

The breath left her body. "What?"

"He was shot."

Catherine shook her head in disbelief. "No. What do you mean? We only left him a couple of hours ago."

She stood there while Grissom's hand came up and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "He was shot while seated in his car behind the diner."

She struggled to remain in control. At Grissom's next words, she lost it. "He's dead Catherine."

She stared at him before bursting into tears. She began to pound on his chest, forcefully at first, but gradually her punches lost their power. She felt his grab her wrists and pull her into a hug. She sobbed into his shoulder and he held her in the doorway.

When Greg was in the lab explosion, she felt guilty. When Nick was kidnapped, she realized the team was more important than her aspirations. When Brass was shot, she was terrified. When Sara was taken, she was too concerned about Grissom to feel what was happening. When Keppler died, it hurt. Warrick's death was killing her. She was in shock. She couldn't believe it. It couldn't be real. Her friend, the one-time subject of her fantasies, was killed. She burrowed further into Grissom until she felt Lindsay's hand on her back. "Mom?"

Catherine pulled herself from Grissom's arms and gathered Lindsay up in her own.

"Mom, what happened?"

She struggled to speak. Her throat was dry. Grissom spoke for her. "Lindsay, it's Warrick. He was killed this morning."

"Oh God." Lindsay wrapped her arms around her grieving mother. "Mom, I'm not going to school today. I'm going to stay home with you okay?" Catherine nodded and tightened her grip on her daughter.

"Mom, I'm also going to call grandma." She felt Lindsay pull from her grip. She released her daughter and fell back into Grissom's embrace. They stood there until Lindsay returned and grasped her hand. "Thanks uncle Gil, I'll take it from here."

Catherine barely registered Grissom's nod. She followed as Lindsay led her back into the house. Lindsay pulled her to the couch. She sat down and cried out her remaining tears in her daughter's embrace.

At first Greg was annoyed when the airline asked him not to board the plane. He grew worried when they led him to the manager's office and asked him to take a seat. When Brass walked in, looking distressed, Greg moved from worried to terrified.

"Brass, what's the meaning of this? Why did you stop them from boarding me? I have a meeting with my editor."

He watched Brass take a seat next to him. "Greg, Warrick was shot and killed this morning."

Greg jumped up in disbelief. "What? No. We just saw him." He watched Brass hang his head. His voice grew quiet. "When?"

"About two hours ago, as he was leaving the diner."

Greg sat back down and rested his head in his hands. "Who?"

"We don't know."

"No." He shook his head. "Everybody else survived when something bad happened to them. You, me, Nick, Sara. Why couldn't he?" He stood up again letting the anger rise in him. "Being framed wasn't enough? They had to kill him too?"

He paced around the room until Brass's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Greg, if you get mad and hold onto this, you'll end up going down the same road as Warrick did."

Greg looked over at Brass and let the detective's fatherly wisdom calm him. "It's not right."

"Greg, when it is ever right?"

Sara was laying on her bed, flipping through a magazine when her cell phone rang. She looked down at the call display and smiled widely. She rolled onto her stomach as she answered the phone. "Gilbert, what took you so long? I've been waiting for you to call back." She grinned. "What happened? Did you get called to a crime scene?" When her questions met with silence, Sara sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. "Griss?" The silence disturbed her. "Gil? Gil, is something wrong?"

Her name. She finally got an answer. His voice quietly choked out her name. She closed her eyes and reopened them. "Tough case? Do you want to talk about it?" She heard him take a deep breath on the other end. No words accompanied it. She stood up. "Gil, you're scaring me." Then she heard it. His resigned voice. Sara, Warrick died this morning.

"What?" She dropped the phone. She grew dizzy and found her legs couldn't support her any longer. She dropped to the floor, stopping her fall only by catching the bed and dresser with her hands on the way down. She steadied herself and picked up the phone. "How?"

She sat on the edge of the bed and listened as Grissom told her that someone walked up to Warrick's car and shot him point blank. She only felt minor relief at discovering that Warrick had died instantly.

Tears filled Sara's eyes as she listened to Grissom's account. She pulled her feet up onto the bed and grabbed a pillow, holding it to her chest and clutching her phone in the other hand. She never noticed when Grissom stopped talking. Her attention was drawn back to the phone after hearing him repeatedly call out her name.

"Sorry." She paused. "I was trying to process this." When he told her that he understood, she could almost picture him nodding. She tried to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath. "Gil, I'm coming home."

His voice grew concerned on the other end. He asked her if she was ready. She sighed and admitted that she wasn't. "I don't have much of a choice. I need to be there." She smiled softly as he reluctantly agreed. She knew he was conflicted between wanting her in Vegas with him and wanting her to finish doing what she needed to do. "Look, I'll book the first flight out and call you with the details."

When he agreed, Sara whispered her goodbyes, promising to call him later. She closed the phone and wished she could have spoken to him longer, despite the trouble she was having trying to find something to say. She laid down and clutched her pillow, allowing the tears to spill from her eyes. She wished Grissom was with her, holding her, comforting her. The thought caused her tears to increase in their intensity. She allowed herself a good cry before sitting back up, flipping open her phone and calling the airline.