Title: Cheating Hearts
Author: Esynnaj
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Gil/Warrick
Rating: FRAO
Email: vebesahchalarc@sbcglobal.net
Warnings: None really, except the usual slash
Summary: Grissom has an affair.
Disclaimer: CSI and all characters from it belong to CBS Productions, Touchstone Television, Alliance Atlantis Communications and Jerry Bruckheimer Films.
Appreciation Proclamation: Based on challenge from Kaelleigh and sorry for it being so late. Due to unpreventable and very irritating illness.

CHEATING HEARTS

As far as Gil Grissom was concerned, there were two things about being a forensic criminalist for the LVPD for which his tolerance level was very low, that being relentlessly and simultaneously ignorant and arrogant superiors and reports he didn't want to do in the first place with due dates he had to meet. As frequently or much as he wished otherwise, he hadn't found a realistic way to file the sheriff, mayor and Conrad Ecklie away in some dark, dingy dungeon where he would not be forced to look on them again. As frequently and as much as he wished otherwise, reports were never were done, no matter how many of them he completed. More of the insufferable paperwork always insistently reappeared to be dealt with. Therefore, he had come in before the three days he would be gone from the lab to take care of a huge backlog of boring matters having to do with the informational and statistical data the departmental bureaucrats were in love with, always insisting on making him hand over to them, and that he had been studiously attempting to ignore.

He was planning on attending the Cock & Bull Cockroach Races to take place at the same time as a weekend of Earth Day celebrations in Denver, Colorado. This was to include such entertaining activities as a classic turtle versus rabbit contest and workshops being held on the University of Denver campus about the recent discoveries of unknown species of insects found in Africa, Asia and South America. Organizers of the celebrations, having heard much of Grissom's expertise in the field of entomology, had extending an invitation for him to speak at a workshop on the subject and he had gleefully accepted. That had been partially because of his avowed and avid interest in such subjects, but mainly because he wanted the opportunity to race his cockroaches. Such events weren't as popular in the United States as they were overseas. He went to the few presented every chance he got.

He had immediately requested personal leave, much to Ecklie's irritation. But since Grissom had too much seniority, so could not be denied, all Ecklie could do was cantankerously demand he not leave while still so far behind in his paperwork. If he did, he'd have to face the distinct possibility of certain shift alterations he'd demanded and gotten by adamantly threatening to go over Ecklie's head if they weren't approved in a timely manner, not being in place when he got back.

Currently, it was in the works for Grissom's midnight shift to come back together like it had been before Ecklie had ripped it apart. Not wanting to give Ecklie the slightest opportunity to prevent Warrick, Nick and Catherine from returning to midnights, Grissom was more than willing to burn the candle at both ends for as long as it took to satisfy the man. That was the only reason why he was where he was at the time that he was and had arrived near an end of the soon to be disbanded swing shift in time to see an incident he had rather not have seen.

Coming in the break room, he had seen Catherine leaning familiarly on Warrick, her chin resting on his head with her hands clasped loosely on his chest, smiling as he flipped through a Victoria's Secret catalogue. They were completely comfortably with each other while exchanging humorous comments about the lingerie pictures. This was not the first time he had been unnerved at the ease shown by Catherine and Warrick when they were together. Being extremely attractive, extremely sensual and extremely intelligent, both were consequently charismatically, coolly and confidently aware of that attractiveness and sensuality, which resulted in them naturally being flirtatious with others and therefore, with one another. They'd always had a very basic and special understanding of life's working that had tightly bonded them. Theirs was exactly the sort of connection Grissom had not yet obtained with Warrick although he wanted the same and was positive he had he tried to get it. He had a bond with Warrick, that was true, but one that was forming far differently.

For a number of years, long before he had allowed himself and Warrick to finally unite as lovers, Grissom had wondered if Catherine and Warrick had ever had a relationship, sexual or otherwise, closer than just that of co-workers. He still wondered but, afraid to receive an answer he wouldn't want to hear, had never dared ask. After he and Warrick had moved into the condominium, at the housewarming, he had come across Catherine perched familiarly in Warrick's lap while watching a football game in the crowded living room, Warrick's arm about her waist, Catherine's arm about his shoulder. They had been laughing and conversing in such a personal and friendly manner that, despite the fact of numerous others having been in the room with them at that same time, Grissom had never been able to shake the sensation he had intruded on a very private event.

It was the same feeling he had as he came upon them in the break room. Catherine looked up at him and completely oblivious to the hot flush of jealousy he was experiencing, said to him, "Gil Grissom, I swear you're gonna drive yourself nuts or right to a stroke or heart attack. You got to stop this always coming in to play catch up as soon as you finally get a day off." She'd kept both hands on Warrick's shoulders, squeezing and messaging them as she added playfully, "Warrick, you're in love with the man and supposed to be talking him outa detrimental workaholic behavior that'll lead 'em into an early grave."

"Hey, I've BEEN trying. But whenever I do, first he gives me all kinds of stupid reasons why he's just absolutely gotta do whatever he says he's got to do, then he starts wandering away, acting like he doesn't hear me, which instantly pisses me right the hell off. That's when I stop trying. Cause I have this real disinclination for wasting my breath or my time."

Because they were sounding sarcastic and humorous, calm and collected, like nothing was wrong, Grissom gamely attempted to respond in kind. "I thank you both for your concern, but Ecklie's on my back. I have got to get every report due this month turned into him before I leave tomorrow or he intends to put a hold on me getting my shift back together like I want it. He says, if I can't keep up on my paperwork, that would be an indication, supervising a full shift might be too much work for me. So, you see, I really have no choice about this."

Catherine gave Gil the sweetest, sexiest smile that still managed to be motherly as she said, while, to his great distress, still idly kneading Warrick's shoulders, "Ah, well, screw Ecklie. He's nothing in the scheme of things. It's you we care about and you've got to take it easy, Gil. Honestly, you're starting to look really tired and stressed out. Tell you what. Why don't you let me run through that stack of shit while you're in Denver. Ecklie's already got me set up to cover midnight anyway and have Warrick supervise the last few nights of swing for me. That way, we'll kill two or three birds with one stone."

As annoyed as he was by Catherine's having her hands all over his man, Grissom wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Well… if you wouldn't mind…"

Warrick stood up and came over to grab Grissom's hand, saying, "She doesn't mind. She wouldn't have said it if she did. C'mon, man. We're outa here. You comin', Cath?"

"Hm, yeah. You're still going over to the game, right?"

"Yep."

"I'll meet you over there then."

There were few on the job co-workers who were aware of Warrick and Gil's relationship outside the one with whom they had a close friendship. Due to regulations against personal relationships between employees and their direct supervisors, Grissom intended to keep matters that way. At one point, suspicious something might be up between Grissom and Warrick when he had found out they had purchased a condominium together, had tried to call them on it as they were leaving one morning after a midnight shift when Warrick had worked overtime and they were leaving to have breakfast together. Before Grissom could calmly respond as Ecklie had confronted them and deal with the situation in a professional manner, Warrick had snarled with that forthright honesty of his that always got him into trouble, "Yeah, Ecklie, you heard right. We've bought a place and we're living together now. Saves money and that sorta thing. You got a problem with that?"

"Well, I'd have to say there will be a problem if you and Gil buying an expensive condo together reveals you've got more than budgetary concerns in common."

"Well, I'd have to say all that woolgathering you do in your office's clogging up a clear path to the synapses in whatever brain cells you got left. Unless you can clarify what you're getting at, I'd also have to say I don't see what you're gettin' at."

"What I am getting at is that, as both of you well know, it's against departmental regulations for a supervisor and employee under his or her supervision to engage in any interpersonal liaison. That would result in severe disciplinary measures for both parties, up and including removal from their positions of employment with the LVPD."

"Okay. Got that. Since you've seen to it Gil's not my supervisor anymore, what's your point?"

Realizing that, Ecklie had paused. Then, resuming, he had blustered, "Just want to make sure you know if Grissom ever does become your supervisor again, whatever you've got going on, if there is anything, it'll have to come to an immediate halt. Otherwise you could lose your careers, not to mention your jobs."

"Message received, Conrad. Now excuse us. We've got breakfast waiting for us." Warrick moved forward to brush by Ecklie and had walked on, bristling and muttering under his breath, "Let's get the hell outa here before I obey this sudden urge I've got to murder the messenger."

Grissom had also received the message. Compliance with that was his style anyway. Although he might allow minor contact between himself and Warrick before Catherine or Nick or others who were personal friends or frequent visitors to their home, it made him very uncomfortable in public or the work place. Knowing this, Warrick released him as soon they were in the hallway, but kept prodding him toward an exit to prevent any effort leading back into his office. Whenever Grissom tried to go around him, explaining he needed to go back there, Warrick cut him off while ignoring any explanations. Finally Grissom protested, telling him, "Rick, I have got to go straighten up my desk. I left everything scattered over the place. Catherine won't be able make heads or tails of it if I leave all of that in the mess that it's in right now."

"Gil, Catherine's got organizational skills that're way better than either yours or mine. Guarantee ya, she'll go in there, wade right in. What would've taken you three months, she will have cleared away in three days. One thing I have learned from working with her on swing, that lady thinks on her feet. She gets done whatever needs to be done and don't take no shit."

"I thought you knew that already."

Warrick glanced at Gil with a grin. "I did. Just while we were working together, she proved it to me a little bit more." As they walked outside, Warrick asked, "For real, how tired are you?"

Grissom smiled as he inquired in return, "Why do you ask? You have something in mind to send me off to Denver in a happy frame of mind?"

Catching the edge of a lusty leer in Grissom's voice, Warrick grinned as he said, "I do. But what I'm talkin' about now is there's a little shirt and skins midnight game scheduled to go down at the Bella Vista Park basketball court near the fire department. It's a competition between a few of us working days, afternoon or swing. Some of us here at the lab and a few fire house guys are going up against some of the guys in blue. Brass's got the night off and he's gonna come watch us. Nick and him are riding in together and should be there already. So I thought maybe you would wanna come and watch the game on the bleachers with Brass."

"Are you going to play?"

"Oh, hell yeah, absolutely."

The multitude of fluorescent lamps lighting up the basketball court were so bright, it was as if it was daylight. Grissom walked down the bleachers to sit down next to Brass while Warrick went onto the middle of the court where the teams were beginning to form. Along with him and Brass, there were several older police officers and firehouse personnel camped out on the bleachers and he smiled. "Well. I guess this shows what separates us from the young bloods."

Brass grinned back at him. "I'd say so. No way can I go running up and down a basketball court anymore. Exercise is all about the golf course for me now. Still…" Brass pointed a stubby finger out onto the court. "Not all us old guys are on the sidelines. Fromansky still thinks he can get out there and show these youngsters a thing or two."

Staring at the man, icy fingers of dread clenched around Grissom's heart as he saw Fromansky had lined up against Nick and Warrick's team. Seeing Grissom on the sideline, Fromansky shot him a steely glare to let him know, although during both incidents when their paths had crossed had resulted in Fromansky being cleared of any wrongdoing, his hatred for Grissom had not yet lessened over time. The man had the flat stare of a rattlesnake and Grissom simply never would be able to trust him. To think he might do something to Nick or Warrick just because they were employed in the forensic lab with Grissom was an entirely believable supposition to Grissom.

He was distracted from worrying about Fromansky when Nick and Warrick pulled off their shirts, as they were evidently on the skins teams. He was musing about how very pleasant that was when Catherine bounced onto the bleachers beside him to breezily announce, "Ohhhh, yeah, I can really get into this. Skins and shirts, huh? Too bad it can't be skins waist down as well as waist up. Now, that'd really, really be one very vast improvement, wouldn't it, guys?"

"It might be, Cath," Brass drawled, "if it wasn't for the fact that would be illegal, even in the very liberal minded city of Las Vegas."

The game started out friendly enough, but law enforcement people were an aggressive bunch with the fire department personnel not far behind them in that competitive spirit. Even the females had that machismo, which was firing them up as well. Because they started hanging so tough with the men, pretty soon the men realized, if they did not give back what they were getting and stop being such gentlemen, they would lose the game. Still, the game was all in fun until Fromansky crashed hard into Nick's shoulder from his blind side after his successful completion of an easy lay up and send him from his feet to smash headlong into the pole holding up the basketball hoop. With Nick going down from such intentional foul, even Formansky's own teammates ragged on him about it.

Grissom was on his feet when Nick didn't immediately rise to his, with everybody but Fromansky rushing to his assistance. Nick was helped up and led to the side, already grinning and claiming to be all right even as shaky as he obviously was. Warrick was instantly right by him, putting a hand comfortingly on his arm, talking to him while gazing thoughtfully at Fromansky.

Cognizant of how unwaveringly protective Warrick was about those he cared about, Grissom was concerned immediately about what his wayward reaction might be. He had often been thoughtless and misguided in the past in his actions when someone he cared about had been hurt carelessly or deliberately in some way and Grissom had been the only one who could talk him down.

But when the game resumed, Nick sitting it out for awhile, Warrick started skinning and grinning with his teammates and opponents as if he hadn't a care in the world. However, it rapidly became increasingly noticeable no matter what move Fromansky made, that was the wrong one. He was a determined and scrappy player, but suddenly he could do nothing right. Whenever he managed to get the ball, Warrick was suddenly there to steal it from him. Whenever he went for a lay up, that tall, dark form was in his face to make him miss and grab the rebound. If he was on defense, he'd fight to take the ball from Warrick, think he had it, find he had a hand on nothing but thin air then was embarrassingly falling flat on his face as Warrick flew around him to go up for the dunk.

Grissom watched, with increasing pride, as his graceful lover became a thing of furious beauty on that basketball court. Those musical rhythms encoded on Warrick's soul were visible in each and every line of that lean, lithe, now lethal, physique, as he taught a specific lesson of life to the blue coats of Las Vegas PD in the general, and Fromansky in particular. Nick was family. And to hurt one of Warrick Brown's own was just not the thing to do.

The game ended with Warrick rising above everyone and everything for the final slam. Gil zoned out, focusing on nothing else as he saw, in seeming slow motion, Warrick with both legs pumping as he stair stepped to heaven under the sparkling fluorescent lights to stuff the ball into that basket with his left hand and land lightly as a black panther.

With fists clenched, flowering with laughter that had glittering edges of ferocious glee, he twirled to feed Fromansky a triumphant stare down. Then he strutted like a peacock to join his teammates while they joyfully traded high fives and patted each other's butts, congratulating themselves on a job well done before lining up to slap flesh with the more somber losing side.

Grissom felt left out with Nick and Warrick giggling like adolescent boys as they walked back to their vehicles and verbally replayed the game almost minute-by-minute as if it was still going on. He openly flinched and frowned when Nick playfully palmed Warrick's rear end right before they parted, but neither of the younger men noticed that. On their short drive back to the lab to pick up Grissom's Denali, he was too strangely quiet. Warrick asked several times if anything was wrong. After getting a negative response every times, Warrick merely shrugged, then dropped the matter. In becoming accustomed to Gil's moods, he had learned it was best to let things go. If he stressed himself about whatever was going on in the other man's head, he'd end up with a set of ulcers and that wouldn't do either one of them any good. Some of the shit running around in Gil's mind, he'd just have to work out for himself.

Grissom got in his SUV and peeled out so fast, Warrick hoped he wouldn't get a ticket on the way home. He was already there and parked in the garage by the time Warrick got there and pulled his Tahoe into the garage next to Grissom's Denali. He was surprised to find Grissom was a shadowy figure still standing inside the dim garage. The only lights were coming from the open door which connected the garage to steps leading up to the laundry room near the condominium's kitchen.

Warrick looked at Grissom then looked away as Grissom slowly hit the remote to shut the garage door. "Hey. What's up with you tonight, Gris? You're acting kinda weird."

As an answer, Grissom said in a low voice, "I had never seen you like you were out there tonight, Ricky. You were beautiful and breathtaking. You touched the sky while everybody watched. And that should be a privilege only I should have. They all wanted you, Ricky, I know they did. But, I can't stand that. You're mine. You belong to me. All of you must belong to me. You don't seem to recognize that yet. I need for you to know that. I need for all of you to be mine. That is necessary for me. This won't work for me if you can't understand that."

Very cautiously, because he was unable to see Grissom's face, Warrick walked toward him. That partial view was very unnerving. Stillness was very much part Grissom's persona. Everything ran deep in him, so it was always difficult to figure him out. He was a master at concealing emotions. Therefore, you needed every possible input to understand the man, including his facial expression and body language. Coming closer, very quietly, Warrick said, "Gil, I'm confused. I'm not sure if I understand what you're trying to tell me from what you're saying. If I've done something, you've gotta be more clear about what it was, so I can fix it. You sayin' I touched the sky doesn't do it for me. You've got to bring it down to something real that I can get my hands on, all right? I've gotta be able to figure out what you mean, all right?"

Grissom burst from the darkness so fast, it surprised Warrick into backpedaling to get away from him. He came forth with desperation written all over his face, reaching for the other man as if he was a life preserver. All the while, he was anxiously talking, "I'm not certain what I mean. What I know is I'm sure I'm losing you and I can't stand that. Everyone touches you, everyone wants bits of you and you're mine. But they can't have you. You're giving yourself to them when you should be all mine. I let you into my life as I've never let anyone in and I can't share you. I'm afraid to let go of you now. Oh, Ricky, please, please. Give yourself to me. Let me have you. Be mine. Be all mine. I love you. You've got to be all mine."

Warrick was attempting to do just that, tell Grissom exactly that, reassure him of that, but he was unable to get the words out because Grissom was on him like white on rice, turning him around to face the Tahoe and pushing him forward over the hood of it. Still wearing the sweaty clothes he'd played basketball in, figuring he'd shower and change after he got home, Grissom had gotten busy taking them off him. Warrick would've laughed, if the situation hadn't been so serious to Grissom. Instead, he kept quiet as he lifted a foot then the other, making the task of getting him naked from the waist down an easier one for his still breathlessly babbling lover.

Grissom had apparently arrived home soon enough before him to grab the lubrication, for he had already it in hand to quickly applied it to himself and Warrick before again putting one hand atop Warrick's head to him shove onto the warm hood of his SUV while spreading his feet wide apart with one of his own feet. Then, without undressing, only pulling his cock out, he moved between Warrick's legs to mount him without any additional forewarning.

The penetration was abrupt and painful enough that Warrick was startled and grimaced, clinching before he was able to take a deep breath and force himself to relax. This was nothing how he and Grissom usually were with each other and had no resemblance to their usual style of lovemaking. It was bewildering in its suddenness and lack of foreplay. However Warrick was much more of a streetwise man than Grissom. His worldliness was far more extensive. He had been born in a Las Vegas milieu and it was the lifestyle he knew best. While he might not understand whatever was going on with his lover, it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Whatever had Grissom going was pushing him hard. Once he had given only a few deep thrusts, he gave a tremendous grunt, slamming in tight as he ejaculated, pinching Warrick's shoulders and keening aloud a series of high pitched shrieks. Then he collapsed on Warrick's back, panting and trying to catch his breath.

For several long minutes, neither man said anything or moved away. Then Grissom lifted himself from Warrick and said softly in the humblest of voices, "I'm so sorry. I honestly don't know what came over me," before fleeing back into their house.

Not nearly as disturbed by the episode as Gil obviously was, Warrick stood up, silently observing that hasty retreat, smiled, picked up his clothes then walked into the condo in only his shirt, socks and gym shoes. He put a pot of decaffeinated coffee on and went to take a leisurely shower. Once he had put on a pair of silky boxer shorts, he wandered back into the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee and added some of the sweet chocolate liqueur Grissom loved into his plus a dollop of rum into both cups, then carried them into Grissom's bedroom. Gil was standing at the window staring out at the manmade lake that was part of the condominium complex.

Grinning, Warrick walked to stand near him, handed him his cup of coffee. Because it was a habit with them, automatically, Grissom reached for it then frowned because he was not ready for them to reestablish any kind of equilibrium. He took it anyway as he said quietly, "I apologize for what I did to you. It was completely unjustified, unforgivable and will never happen again."

"There's nothing to apologize for. You didn't hurt me. Shocked the shit outa me, yeah. But didn't hurt me. Fact was, it was sorta interesting. You showed me a side of you I hadn't seen before and I could get into that, man. So don't say it won't happen again. It may and I can't say I won't like it. I really mean it when I say that, Gil," Warrick said, still grinning as he sipped his coffee.

"You don't need to pacify me, Warrick. I'll understand if you're angry with me."

"Hey, quick as you went, it was still pretty close to startin' to feel good when you up and left me high and dry. If I'm mad about anything, that's it. I'm good with everything else."

They say nothing for a time, drinking their coffee in companionable silence. Then Grissom had to ask, sounding as sad as he felt, "Why do you love me, Warrick?"

And Warrick answered readily, "Cause you love me despite all my defects and my temper and all the shit I do that gets on your nerves. I love you cause every goddamned time I catch sight of you at work, it makes me happy without me knowing or caring why. I love you cause of the way your ass feels good in my hands when I fuck you. I love you cause you're the smartest guy I know, and you know this too, but you still ain't got the big head. I love you cause of how you make me dizzy and hot as hell when you go down on me. I love you cause of how you can see the most beautiful things in the damnedest places and make me see 'em too. I love you cause of when I see you stare at me while you're talking to someone else and you keep doing it on purpose just to make my dick get hard. I love you cause you are never, ever dull. You're gonna keep me curious about whatever the fuck's going on with you until the day we both croak. I love you, man, just cause I do."

Then, tenderly and very lovingly, Warrick bumped a shoulder into Grissom's. "I can go on. Want me to? Got me a list of why I love you that's two miles long?"

Reluctantly, Grissom smiled. " I wish I could express my love for you as well. That was quite the wordy answer to my question and more than sufficient."

"Yeah, it was. Let it suffice that I do love you, Gil. You are the one I want. I don't want anybody else but you." Warrick turned to wrap his arms around Gil, folding him up in tenderness and that loving warmth he craved. "You listen to me. I love a lot of people, but I won't ever love anybody the way I love you. We have chosen each other for life, Gil Grissom. From the second we signed the mortgage on this place, we made a forever commitment and I intend to hold both of us to it."

With an almost inaudible sigh, Grissom melted into Warrick's embrace and they stood silently to share each other, never noticing the time passing by. It was a mutual decision, a short while later, to part so Gil could undress. Some nights, they slept in their own beds, as Grissom was too often discomfited by the restlessness exhibited by Warrick when he slept, simply could not get used to having that long length in his bed on a regular basis. Plus Grissom snored. That arrhythmic noise was an annoyance Warrick just as equally refused to tolerate at times. But this night, they wanted to be with each other. So when Grissom astonishingly suggested they sleep in Warrick's bedroom for a change, he got no argument whatever. Soon afterward, both slipped under the thick, colorful quilt Warrick's mother had started for him then his grandmother and aunt had finished for them to lie talking for a time in each other's arms before falling asleep, still tucked in spooning position.

Early the next morning, Warrick was awakened by pulsing waves of hot sexual tension that were throbbing through him as if someone had rounded up a collection of the most intense wet dreams he had ever had and put them in his head all at once. He opened his eyes to hear himself moaning and rose on his elbows to see Grissom's head rising and falling between his legs.

Trying to speak, he couldn't manage a single, solitary word, just was able to garble unintelligible nonsense, when Grissom had the audacity to roll his testicles in his hand like they were a pair of fleshy dice. Laughing weakly he fell back onto the bed and let it ride.

There are some people who do fellatio because it's one sexual act that can't be done wrong unless you apply teeth and cause pain. Then, there are others who raise it to such a fine art their partners would rather forego intercourse. Still, it had never reached that point with Warrick and Grissom. But if Warrick was ever forced to choose between Grissom's ass and Grissom's mouth, the choice would be an extremely difficult one and he'd have to say the mouth if that answer had to be given quick. Being on the receiving end of oral sex with Grissom was that good.

Soon all kinds of passionate sensations began rolling over him. Only Grissom holding him down kept him still on the bed. Locking his hands under the edge of the headboard and holding on tight, his body arching upward as he climaxed then poured his essence into his lover, Warrick yelled at the ceiling, "Awww, fuck!!! Jesus!!! Jesus H. Christ!! Fuck, Gil!! Man!!! Man, I love how you do that to me!!! You do that shit so muthafuckin' good!!" Breathing hard and relaxing while Grissom swallowed him down, he inhaled through pursed lips and said, "This's one helluva wonderful way to be woke up in the morning."

Grissom leaned up to smile at him, said as he moved upward to lay on Warrick and kiss him so he tasted himself on Gil's lips, "It's the least I could do after leaving you, as you claim I did, high and dry last night."

Warrick turned his head to squint at the clock. "What time is it?"

"We don't have time for anything else, if that's why you ask. My plane's leaving in less than three hours and I want to be at the airport with at least an hour to spare. I only have time to shower and get dressed and us to have a cup of coffee together before you take me to the airport."

It wasn't until they were sitting together at the kitchen table with Grissom going over his checklist to make sure he had packed everything he was going to need at the conference a thought occurred to Warrick and he burst out laughing. Gil glanced at him and asked, "What's funny?"

"You're a hard man to figure out, but I just now learned something new about you. Whenever you plan to go down on me, that's when you wanna use my bed."

"Oh, really? What makes you say that?"

"You don't mind me grabbin' your head when we're standing up. Then, you can control how much pressure I apply. When we're in my bed, I grab the headboard and leave your head alone. But you don't have a headboard and if we're laying down with you caught up between my legs then when I get hold of your head. That's when you get a suffocating feeling. You don't like that and fix things so you don't haveta deal with that. You make sure we're always in my bed beforehand. Your mind doesn't ever get to be turned off, does it? You don't ever stop thinking, do you?"

"No. I don't."

"But… don't you wanna.. shut down sometimes. I mean… doesn't always mapping out every little thing you do get… tiresome?"

"No. Because it's the way I've always operated," Gil said, peering over his glasses into Warrick's eyes. "It's the only way I know how to survive."

Warrick grinned. This wasn't discussion he wanted to get into with Grissom, because there wasn't never any conclusive point to it. There was never a winner. Whenever it came to arguments on an intellectual level, Grissom was going to win, hands down. But when it came to relationship issues that had to be resolved, Warrick tended to understand them so much better than Gil did, which the both of them knew, neither wanted to get deep into them because hurt feelings too frequently was the result. So all Warrick said was, "Finish your list, man. I'll go load your bags into the truck."

Warrick didn't stay long after he drove Grissom over to the airport. Sitting around there would've bored him and they would've soon run out of things to say to each other. Grissom had brought his pile of scientific magazines to read which kept him occupied during his wait, during his flight and during his limo ride to his hotel. After giving his name to the terminally cheerful young woman at the check-in desk and settling into his hotel room, Grissom had lunch at one the hotel's restaurant, then decided to take one of the hotel shuttles out to the University of Denver campus.

At an auditorium there, tracks for the cockroach races had been set up. Grissom stood a moment, looking about happily, as attending the cockroach tournament was the only reason he'd agreed to speak at the entomology workshop in first place.

Grissom liked attending the competitions, was one of few things he did strictly for the pleasure. It certainly wasn't monetary, as the rewards for the winners were trophies, congratulations and write ups in newsletters and magazines devoted to those with similar interests in bugs and other aspects of nature. Because none of the activities were scheduled to begin until the following morning, the spacious auditorium was crowded with wares for the coming events but fairly empty of personnel when he entered it. Only after questioning a few of those who were there, did he locate the area of cockroach track.

Wandering over to examine its layout, Grissom was so deeply involved in doing that, it was quite some time before he noticed that somebody was examining him then looked up, blushing red that he had been concentrating to the exclusion of everything else. Such was a habit with him, but one that often that discomfited those who did not know him well, particularly if he was concentrating on something that made no sense to the other person.

But this woman only kept that bit of a smile she had on her face already as she strode over to him with her hand held out for a surprisingly firm handshake. Then she said in an equally surprisingly deep, warm smooth and sweetly husky Australian accented voice , "You have got to be the brand new course certifier I requested or one of the racers. No one else would be giving our tracks such a close going over and that's a fact."

"I'm, um, a racer. I'm Gil Grissom and have a team scheduled to start at 11:00 am tomorrow."

"Well, that is very good. Because if someone like that last ass had been coming in to inspect my course again, that surely would have put me into more of a thoroughly snarky mood. If the rules made allowances for such a thing, I might have strangled him with his own bloody tape measure cause of all his unnecessary, blasted, continued interference."

The humor of her own remark made her giggle merrily and clap one hand over Grissom's that she was still holding with the first hand. Then, quite on impulse and without any restraint whatsoever, she brought his up to her mouth, turning it to kiss the back of it tenderly before releasing him, still laughing with vivacious almond eyes sparkling up at him. That action admittedly startled him, but an intimate contact from a complete stranger did not unnerve and alarm him as it generally should have. Instead, the woman was intriguing for an unknown reason. There was something amazingly familiar about her and he instinctively initiated a discovery process to find out what that was.

Cocking his head slightly, he told her, "I'm Gil Grissom. And you are?"

"I am Matilda Brookshire from Sydney, Australia. Roach racing is bigger over there and almost as much in Europe and Russia. My Dad oversees a lot of 'em. I'm his course creator and manager of the track set ups many of his events. This's a life work for me and my Dad that I do well and find it wearisome that I must do it to others' specifications. But, that's a concern that is not yours and I won't worry you with my burden. Is there information about track ramification that you'd like me to share with you? I always like to offer the racers and their owners what assistance I can."

"Oh, no. I'm not seeking any inside information," Grissom said with a smile, "I prefer we're all on an equal footing. I'm not here to interfere with your work or anything. I just wanted to look about a little, if I could."

"Surely. Go right ahead. Take your time. I'm nearly done for the night anyway." As Matilda went on about her track preparation, Grissom continued with his examination of the narrow lines of the roach pathways, trying to snatch glances at her without her noticing that he was doing so. Despite the firmness of her handshake, as soon as he had taken her hand, he had immediately lightened up his grip. Hers had doubled over and collapsed under his touch, possessed a delicate bone structure he had not come into contact with since he had held Terri Miller's hand. It was unlike the strength of Catherine, who always gave as good as she got, or Sara, for whom any handshake with anyone meant an automatic test of competitive wills. This woman, while eager to step up to the plate, was possibly too fragile to play the game.

Still, there was no certainty of that. This inference might be incorrect. Women's physical fragility frequently did not translate into emotional weakness or mental instability. It certainly hadn't been the case with Terri. If anything, she had not been willing to contend with his emotional insecurity and distance. Her abrupt withdrawal had had nothing to do with anything inward to herself, just a resistance to spending the time it would take for him to work out his own problems. Being forced to acknowledge this about Terri forced him to draw back then reassess what he was feeling about this new woman.

Terri's cool, blonde beauty had very much appealed to him and Matilda's complexion was similar, although not nearly as pale. Her flaxen locks were less straight and far longer, almost to her waist, while her eyes were dark brown rather than glacial blue. But they were of the same self-confident and self-contained personality type. Matilda struck him as a woman willing and able to reach out to another, but unwilling to stand around waiting if rejection was in the air, just as Terri had been. It occurred to Grissom, in a scattered, unthinking sort of way, that he should pursue this matter, to see if he rectify the mistake he had made the first time around by leaving a woman he had desired swinging in the wind.

From the start with Matilda, he had been given pause by her boisterousness. But that unexpected kiss, which had been followed up by nothing else untoward had peaking Grissom's curiosity. Her previous liveliness notwithstanding, after speaking to him, she had gone about her duties with all seriousness, totally ignoring him while finishing up whatever else had to be done. Once he'd seen her packing in seeming preparation of taking leave, it became his turn to impulsively behave.

Approaching her hesitantly, he said, "Forgive me for the further intrusion and I will understand if you refuse since you don't know anything about me. But… would you have a cup of coffee or tea with me? I'd very much enjoy that. It's not often that I meet anyone, especially a woman, who has a positive interest in roaches."

"Is that so?" She inquired, tilting her head up to turn a dark gaze to his eyes, laughter crinkling a set of life lines that indicated she was not as young as her svelte physique and demeanor had first indicated. "What's to make you think I'd believe you've such a positive interest in roaches? Am I to think it just by watching you gallop about my track the time or two?"

Both charmed and slightly nonplused by her questioning attitude, Grissom said, "Well, let's see if I can reassure you of my interest. In the 11 AM race, I've entered Timothy. He is a Neostylopyga rhombifolia. Very quick moving and was very easy to train. He has been several races before and will do well. In the 3:00 PM race, Petra and Stephen are scheduled for the race. Stephen's been at this awhile. He's a Eurycotis decipiens, my Zebra. Petra's my Porcelain, a Gyna lurida, and it's her first race. She's a bit nervous, but I've used calmer nymphs to assist her in getting used to running in groups. I'm sure she'll do just fine. Have you any other questions? I'm sure I can answer them."

This set her laughing. She continued laughing as she slung her backpack over one arm and linked her other with his. "Of course I do. I have many. But you can answer them while you buy me that promised cuppa tea."

Matilda and Gil enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon and evening roving about the streets during the goings-on of the Denver Earth Day festivals. They visited the booths set up outside the stores and inside the galleries, malls, hotels and conference centers, had homemade taffy and ice cream, was photographed by several itinerant and independent cameramen, one of whom gave them prints, as they had conversations of the most eclectic kind about anything and everything and under the sun. That had to be what was most enthralling to Grissom about Matilda. He could talk with her about whatever came to mind and not feel judged about the subject matter or, worse, himself. More than that, she appeared to approve of him in general and not just a show to win approval. Although she spoke her viewpoint without hesitation, and offered constructive criticism, she did so humorously and with droll commentary on her own shortcomings at the same time to soften the blow.

Matilda had more than a few similarities to Terri, when it came to this. Terri had also always been truthful when she had dealt with him, saying whatever she had to say with an undercurrent of dry, droll, sarcastic wit that was like his own, therefore too well understood by him. Matilda's sense of humor was not dry but warm and earthy, different enough from his own for him to feel a personal connection with her that was not an invasion of his personal space while their conversation stayed on an intellectual and interesting plane. It was a unique sensation for him and resulted in his being taken with her very satisfying companionship. By the time it came for them to part, the only thing he felt was disappointment and a strange sense of budding loneliness that had its beginnings even before she left his side.

He wanted to invite her to stay at with him for the night but wasn't sure how that would go over, a man saying such a thing to a woman he had known for just a few hours. Everything about Matilda pleased him, the silkiness of her conservative calf length dress with its billowing sleeves and how sweet smelling she was. He enjoyed how warm her whole body was to the touch and how she had leaned her head against his shoulder as they had strolled along in the fresh night air, embraced his arm as if she was becoming dependent on his strength and was glad to do so. Walking beneath the twinkling lights of the city, Grissom had begun to feel as if she and he was a couple who could be of immense importance, who could work magic together.

There had never been any difficult or embarrassing lapses in their conversation. Even the silences had been companionable. She had been interested in subjects that would have turned others off at the first mention of them, such as discussions of a walk through on the body farm or grisly nature of autopsies. But Matilda had grown up, rough and tumble, on a large ranch with several brothers who had been tough on her to the point of outright cruelty and a father who'd been so determined not to overprotect her that he had basically not looked out for her safety at all. Her mother had so hated life on the ranch, she'd isolated herself from it and her children by burying herself in books, then the chat rooms of the Web once the Internet reached the backlands of Australia. As Grissom had, Matilda had become an insular person who'd learned to depend on no one other than herself for her emotional needs. The difference was, she had no longer wished to stay that self-contained person she had become. She had found somebody she thought could meet her needs that she was not able to do for herself, so wanted to keep him in her life.

Unaware of the abrupt, life changing alteration in her mindset, Grissom was taking much pleasure in Matilda's company. He liked hearing about the difference in her Australian lifestyle. But, most of all, his enjoyment had come from Matilda listening to him talk about Warrick and her seeming to understand his viewpoint about the ups and downs of the relationship. It wasn't Grissom's way to make a big deal of it, so he spoke of it lightly, batting down the heartache and joy being which being Warrick gave him whenever that intensity threatened to rise in his voice. Their discussions centered on Warrick's apparent reluctance to exclusively focus all his attentions on Gil as a lover, as Gil wanted him to do and Matilda was properly sympathetic. However, because Grissom never expressed how deeply he was affected by the changes he had gone through, Matilda responded in kind, unaware his mindset was never exclusively on her.

He went to bed that night thinking of her. He awakened the next morning wondering what could have possibly been on his mind the previous night. He forgot all about her the next moment with only thoughts of Warrick going through his head. Feeling uncertain of his standing with Warrick, he reached for the telephone to dial Warrick's cell, not caring if sleep, because Nevada was three hours behind Colorado. All Grissom knew was he glad as hell to hear a familiar impatient growl of, "Brown here," as Warrick distractedly answered his phone.

"Hi, Rick. This is Gil," Grissom said as evenly as he could. "I need to talk to you."

Warrick paused for a moment before he asked, sounding hurried and harried, "Does it have to be right this minute, man? They called me in for midnights on a triple homicide and I'm at the crime scene. The sheriff's trotted his useless ass out here, which's got Catherine mad as shit and barking orders like a goddamned drill sergeant. If what you got can wait, I'll call you back soon's I got my pictures and my evidence's been bagged, tagged and it's in the lab. Can you hold on 'til then?"

Very softly, Grissom said, "Sure. I can hold on until then. I'll be waiting for your call." As he laid the receiver down, he whispered to himself, "I'm the one who always has to wait for you. I am the one who's always last on your list to receive your love."

His workshop presentation entitled "The Determination of Time of Death by The Examination of Larvae or Maggot Infestations of the Corpse" was scheduled for 8:00 AM, so he had to let go of the concerns of his private life to get on with his professional life. He and an assistant were busy setting up his charts and computer graphics when he looked up and saw Matilda had come in the lecture hall where he was to speak. She looked breezily old fashioned in her flowery and colorful, calf length silken dress and her long, loose, corn stalk yellow hair, although her brown purse and matching leather boots were thoroughly modern. So was a directness in almond shaded eyes that were exotically almond shaped. The sight of her approach was oddly pleasing to him. It was nice to see someone familiar, knowing she was there primarily for him.

Smiling at her, he stepped down from the platform to meet her as she came toward him, tilting his head to the side with a birdlike motion as he said lightly, "Surely you're not going to say you have come here just to hear my spiel?"

"Of course that's why I'm here," she said cheerfully, turning to link her arm with his as if she had been comfortably doing it for years. "For what other reason would I get up to come over so early in the morning? I had a very nice time, spending a day with you yesterday, and might like to do it again, if that would be suitable to you."

"It would suit me very much. But you may think differently after you hear me talk. I'm afraid the material will be rather dry and boring and likely a bit distasteful, except to those of us who are in the forensic field and in need of such information to aid in solving cases."

"Well, I am afraid you underestimate your verbal persuasiveness, Gilbert Grissom. You're a most talented orator. I pleasantly gathered that from listening to you yesterday. To explain further, you have a wealth of knowledge on an extensive variety of subject matters at your disposal and you're an educator who obviously enjoys imparting what he has learned to others. You do also that in an interesting manner. I can't imagine a circumstance in which you would possibly be boring. Please don't make the mistake of thinking I'm saying this just to give you sympathy strokes because I am not a woman who exaggerates either my compliments or my corrections."

Such a flat out comment from a straight talking woman could not help but do wonders for a man's ego and subconsciously, Grissom preened on hearing it. After a few more exchanges, he took her to a seat near the front and took his place behind the podium on the platform as the room began to crowd with attendees. His presentation was information filled but concise. A fifteen question and answer period at the finish went over its allotted time slot when his fellow professionals peppered him for additional information.

He was in his element as he responded to these requests that picked his brain to get knowledge of insects and the bugs of the world, a branch of learning so close to his heart, in relationship to how they acted on a dead body, when they would commit what action and what could be learned from such a study. Matilda glowed while listening to him. She clearly loved watching him teach others about something he was enthusiastic about, was beginning to wish him to become as enthusiastic about her.

They spent the entire day and night together this time. She maintained her distance from him only at the cockroach races and that was only because she was professionally involved with them. But he saw her disappointment when one of his entries came in third in his first event while the other couldn't finish and her elation when his came in first and second in the eighth event was apparent. Other than on that occasion, neither was more a few feet from the other during the rest of the day. Although they had brunch, lunch and dinner together, then closed down a jazz club, they still did want to leave each other, so had not. However, Grissom didn't have to go through any adolescent should he or should he not invite her back to his hotel this time. Matilda extended the invitation to herself and rode up the elevator to his room, clinging to his arm all the way.

Dawn had arrived before they were talked out, ate out, drank out then finally decided it was time to make love. They had a glorious view of the shimmering sunrise coming up over the mountains outside Grissom's hotel room when Matilda stretched out leisurely beneath him, turning pink and rosy, inhaling deep and softly, her mouth rounding into a delicate "Ohhhh" of pleasure. Watching her, he was thrilled that he was giving her this ecstasy, felt rather masculine when both her hands flutteringly rode up and down his broad back while her small feet strummed against his calves as she climaxed. Still…

He was not… rewarded as much he might have otherwise wished. Once it was over and she had seemed satisfied, he was too well bred and too much of a gentlemen to continue seeking his own satisfaction. He'd moved away and been glad to do so although he hadn't reached orgasm himself. She had not seemed to notice that but happily settled down to curl up and cuddle with him, which mildly annoyed him. Warrick would never have left him in such a condition, as he never could've have done it to Warrick. But he said nothing, just laid next to her, talking until she fell asleep.

He was distinctly uncomfortable with her now, felt she was too small and fragile and missing the much greater weight and length of Warrick. During their last night together, he had gone to sleep tucked into a tender embrace of Warrick's arms, curled up with one of Warrick's legs thrown over his. He had wakened with Warrick stretched out on his back and himself on his side with his head lying on Warrick's shoulder. He couldn't imagine either scenario with Matilda. Spooning with her behind him? His bulk would make that ridiculously impossible. He would feel silly cuddling with her, his head on her small shoulder. Even now, he was unable to sleep as she laid next to him. She was so tiny, he feared he might roll onto her in his sleep and smother or injure her. Like a shallow man who had had all he wanted from his one night stand, he urgently wished her gone so he could be alone but could see no way of gracefully bringing that about.

Far too much polite to ever just say wake up and leave, he sighed and tried to rest even if he could not sleep. He spent that time trying to formulate what words he could use to tell her thank you for two outstanding days and nights. All he wanted to say to her now was have a wonderful life. You go back to yours while I go back to mine. Everything he came up with sounded heartless and trite. So he concluded he would just have to wait until she woke and fly by the seat of his pants, hoping it all worked out. Matilda had come off as an intelligent lady, the type of woman who saw reason. She would understand. She'd have to. She'd have no other choice.

But when he asked her what she planned to do after leaving Denver, she said, "Well, let's try this on for size. Why don't I go back to Las Vegas with you for a bit? I took a week off from work to come out here to set up the tracks for Dad. I don't have to be back in Sydney until Wednesday. I'd like to see the what's what of this American Sin City we hear so much about down under."

Grissom paused in taking a bit of his omelet and immediately said as he laid his fork down, "That won't be possible," as evenly and calmly as he could.

Gazing at him, Matilda arched an eyebrow as she asked, "Why ever not?"

"Because," he explained, "there's somebody already in my life who's very important to me. If you recall, we've talked about him. I live with him and I love him."

She stared at him as if she did not quite understand the words he was saying to her. "But… he's a man. I do know the flippety trippety things guys play with each others. Most my brothers did 'em too. Then they settled down and got married. You couldn't've made love to me like you did if you really loved him. This guy of yours, he's just a bit of fun while you find the woman who's the one you really want and that might be me, Gil, if you give us a chance. I'm not saying what we've got is love at first sight, but it comes close. It's good and we shouldn't let it pass by. We are simpatico and you know it. We have been working on the same great vibe since the moment we met and we need to pursue it to the end. The end isn't today, Gil. It can't be. Please don't let it be."

"Matilda, it has to be. You are a lovely and gracious woman, but I do love Warrick. I could never have talked about him with you as much as I did if I didn't love him."

"You talked about him, Gil, as if he was a friend and not much more. This friend with whom you admittedly have great sex with, but a friend who shares too much of himself with others and who is a friend with whom you aren't sure of your standing."

Gil stiffened. "I never said anything like that."

"Of course you did. You did repeatedly. Without seeming to realizing it, you did. But you'd never have to endure that uncertainty with me. You'd always know where you stand with me. I could be never anything less than totally honest and above board with you. I'd spend all my life reinforcing your good opinion of yourself and making you feel good about yourself. Everything I'd do would be to benefit you. I wouldn't ever do anything for myself."

Hearing her say that disturbed him. "Don't say that. No relationship should be based on either one making that kind of sacrifice."

"Of course it should," Matilda said merrily. "That's the way it is with my Mum and Dad and they get along like peas in a pod. I know wouldn't ever want to do anything for myself, if I had a man like you. See, I've never wanted to live for myself. I think that's incredibly selfish. I'd live just like you'd live for only me. We'd design a world to include nobody other than ourselves. Can't you see how beautiful of a life that could be for you and me both?"

For a moment, Grissom could think of nothing to say to that. When he did not speak, she reached out to him, laid her hand on his then leaned forward to say, "You and I are so much alike, Gil. It's obvious to me that we're made for each other. We're two of a kind, like Mum and Dad, peas from the same pod. If we don't take advantage of that, we'll be making the most serious mistakes of our lives. Listen to me. I'm positive I'm right about this. Last night should have revealed this to you as well. Us coming together was wonderful. That had to be the most perfect love making I have ever experienced. I know you felt it, too. Gil, please don't deny us. No man can ever mean to you what I can. Don't miss out on what we'll be to each other. It may not be love yet, but it surely will be."

Matilda didn't know it, but she had lost him with the peas from the same pod remark because that was too similar to the irritating line Sara had tried to feed him for years and convince him that she and he should be together. All that did was highlight the dullness and grayness that could come to a life spent with someone just like you were. He needed and wanted someone to brighten life, not walk lockstep with him and turn it colorless. He had to have someone who would add sparkle and zest, fire and ice, leather and lace, to his existence. Matilda had totally missed out on what he had felt during the sex they'd had. There had been no completion for him. His erection merely petered out awhile later, had irritatingly faded away, leaving him feeling itchy and restless, a sensation he never remembered ever having had afterward with Warrick.

He turned his hand over under Matilda's to gently grip hers. "Matilda. If I've misled you, I deeply and sincerely apologize. But, I'm not missing out on anything with anyone. Everything that I have ever wanted in another person is already waiting for me in back Las Vegas. I shouldn't've brought my complaints about him to you. That was wrong of me. And I shouldn't've done with you what I did this morning. As fantastic as it was, it was also wrong. It's just I was having so much fun with you, I really didn't think about the consequences of my actions. It never occurred to me you might think I intended for us to have any long term emotional involvement."

Matilda sat up very straight as she said quietly, "Do you mean to say everything we had together was merely physical?"

"No. Of course not. But…," Grissom smiled, hoping he looked warm and affable. "You know the friendship with sex you mentioned which you thought I had with Warrick? I'm afraid it was more like that than anything else with us and much, much more with him."

She whitened on hearing that, turning so pale he worried that she was on the verge of fainting for a moment. However she did not. Instead she smiled back at him and rallied, regained her color as she breathed in deeply and said, "I believe I see now. It was a misunderstanding on my part and I have a clearer picture, since you've explained it all to me. You're not to blame for any of this. It is I who should apologize, not you. I'd be most appreciative if you'd accept mine."

"Apologies aren't necessaries. Both of us made mistakes and it's good that we're adult enough to acknowledge them and talk them out. I'd still like for us to be friends, though. I really did have a good time with you. One thing Warrick may be right about is the real value of friendship outside a more intimate relationship. If I've learned anything from this weekend with you, that's it."

"Then let us become friends, since we can't be anything else at this time. Perhaps a friendship can grow into something more precious in future."

"While I don't want to lose your friendship, I'd never promise that. My love for Warrick is strong and I wouldn't want to ever jeopardize what we have together."

Smiling, Matilda tightened her hold on Grissom's hand as she said, "It's admirable that you are so loyal to a man who hasn't returned your loyalty."

"No. I never said he didn't. He is loyal to me. What I said was…"

"Shush. You don't have to explain any further. You don't need to defend him to me anymore. I've seen your kindness and know you 're not to blame for any of this. What I'd really like to do, if you wouldn't mind, is for us to exchange numbers so we can keep in contact. Can we do that at least?"

Gil smiled back at her, returning the pressure of her hand. "Yes, we can. I don't want to lose your friendship any more than you want to lose mine. I thank you for being so understanding."

He didn't feel that way for long. They parted pleasantly enough but even before he left the airport in Denver, Matilda had called him then called his cell twice more while he was flying home. That she wanted to have long, leisurely conversations each time annoyed him, so he cut her off short in the last call, saying the airplane was landing and he had to disembark. Over the next few weeks, it got worse. She began calling him regularly three or more times a day, even after she had returned to Australia, which he knew had to be running up a tremendous phone bill for her. It became such a nuisance, he requested a new number for his cell phone.

But that didn't stop her because she got his work number and began calling him there. When that started being an interference on the job, he began having all his calls routed through the secretary and gave her a list of those from whom he'd take a direct call with the order that any others had to leave a message. Although two avenues had been closed to her, she somehow managed to acquire Grissom's home phone number to call him there, always hanging up whenever Warrick happened to answer. This occurred so much Warrick began to be curious about the hang ups, so Gil decided it was about time to tell him the truth before circumstances did that for him.

He certainly didn't want to. Life had been beautiful since his return. That afternoon he had gotten back, Warrick had picked him up at the airport and they'd had an extravagant lunch at one of Las Vegas' most exclusive and expensive restaurants. Then, they had spent the day together at a local aquarium and gone to one of the local museums before heading out to the mountains to spend the evening under a breathtaking sunset. But that had not been all. With Gil having another night off, Warrick had also arranged to have the same night off and had brought everything needed to camp out, which included a spacious tent and an inflatable, queen sized mattress. He also brought along every accruement necessary for long, leisurely sessions of lovemaking and private togetherness.

And that lovemaking had been fabulous. There had been no restrictions on what they could do to each other, the sounds they could make, movements that were possible. Completely naked for all hours of that night with only a full moon looking down on them and stars as their coverlet, they'd explored the other's body as if it was all virgin territory, like it was their first time and neither had ever been with anyone else. Most importantly, every bit of Warrick's attention had been turned on Gil and nobody and nothing else, which Grissom had found highly inflammatory and satisfactory.

Whatever Gil had wanted to do, they had done and not anything else. He had not once had to tell Warrick what he wished with Warrick seeming to sense it without him having to ask. There under the wide open sky, sinking into the warmth of Warrick's willing and waiting body, riding him and hearing him moan and cry for more, Grissom had felt he was home and home would always have to be wherever Warrick was. But the passion and beauty from that night had not ceased after they had gotten back into the more mundane and regular rhythm of everyday life. Despite Grissom not thinking that he had, Warrick apparently had heard him when he had expressed his concern about how he didn't feel he took up big enough space in Warrick's scheme of things. However, only that one night served as a reversal of that opinion and was plenty for them to build on the strength of a relationship that had always had more strong points than weak ones.

In addition, the nodule of knowledge Gil learned from his companionable time spent with Matilda had taught him more about the value of the friendships Warrick carried on with others. Suddenly, he was able to watch his competitive playfulness with Nick or his flirtatious ways with Catherine with a more fatherly and magnanimous air. Much of it was due to Warrick, still unaware of what had transpired with him while he had been in Denver, idly saying as they had been discussing the matter, "I don't understand why it ever bothered you. I ain't going home with anybody except you, don't sleep with nobody except you, and don't want to either. I love you, Gil Grissom, and always will, from the looks of things. I sure haven't ever felt this way about anybody else."

With a grin on his face and his green eyes sparkling in that way which always melted Grissom's spine and other unmentionable body parts into a passionate puddle of lust, Warrick had risen up to lie on Grissom and say, "Man, I love you so much, I can't even see a future without you now. Most the time, I feel like I'd die without you, Gil. While all the other times I feel like I wouldn't want to live without you. And close your mouth. Don't you go telling me they're the same thing, cause, see, there is a goddamn difference. Anything happen to you, man, they might as well put me down in the hole with you, cause life won't be worth living if you're gone. But if we were to split up or something stupid like that, I'd keep going, but everything in me would dry up. I'd just as well turn into dust and blow away, if you ever decided you didn't want me anymore.

"Yeah, I have other friends and always will. But you, man? Gil, you're my life. There can't be any me without you. You're my flesh and blood. You are my heart and soul and I want you to always remember that whenever you wanna go out on some stupid tangent, that hasn't, may I remind you, got anything to do with reality, about whether or not I care about you more'n I do other people."

Because that next month or so was so perfect between them, Grissom decided not to tell Warrick about Matilda even after both of them had begun to be upset about a growing number of hang ups Warrick was getting at home. There were also increasing calls Warrick had noticed Grissom was answering but had begun to hang up on himself after a wearisome couple of weeks of whispered conversations always ended abruptly. There was also the pile of messages at work from a woman to whom Grissom had begun to refuse to respond. This was worrisome to Warrick and became all the more worrisome when he was lifting fingerprints beneath the overhang of a balcony at a crime scene on which Brass and Grissom were standing and overheard them discussing the issue.

"She's threatening to file a complaint with the department saying you sexually harassed until she felt obligated to have sex with you while you were in Denver, Gil. The sheriff's already called me into his office to ask if I thought what she's claiming has any merit and I told him I don't. I've got your back on this. But, it still has to be investigated and you should start thinking about what you need to do cover your back."

"Jim, I shouldn't have to. What we did was a mistake, but it was consensual. In fact, she was the one who suggested she wanted to come up to my room and she said it was so we could have some privacy to talk. I never indicated to her, not once, that I wanted anything else from her and I most certainly did not pressure or force myself on her. I thought everything was fine between us when I left Denver, but she's been calling me on my cell, at work and at home at least four or five times a day and sometimes more since we parted."

"Then first thing you have got to do is request a copy of your calls from the telephone company to prove that. You got anything else to show she's been after you since you left her in Denver?"

"Several messages from when she's called me at work. I told the secretary not to put her through, but just take a message. I'd been throwing them away, but I'm sure some must still be someplace on my desk."

"Good. Pull those together. I'm not sure who the sheriff will assign to investigate this, but I asked him not to turn it over to Ecklie until we had more information and was certain of its validity. The letter came all the way from Australia from some woman we don't know a thing about. But we do know you and tricking anyone into having sex isn't your style, especially when you've got a hunk like Warrick at home who can do it all night long."

Warrick, already in shock at what he had heard, didn't wait to hear more. He did not want to hear anymore. In a turmoil of confusion, he closed his ears to it, bent down and went back to work. All he wanted to do was go home and forget about what he had just heard. He definitely did not want to know more about it. After all they had been working through, Grissom had cheated on him and he simply could not believe that, he really could not…

The next morning, while Grissom and Warrick ate breakfast together, Gil sensed a remoteness in Warrick that made him aware their short period of perfection was over. Most of the time, Warrick was a very easy read. Very seldom did he put that poker face on to keep Gil from walking into his head. It was only when Gil made a concerted effort to look into him and Warrick realized it when he was not in the mood for such analysis, therefore shut down to prevent it, that it became next to impossible for Grissom to figure out what he might be thinking. Presently, he was staring down at the table lightly tapping his fingers on it in a slow rhythm. After a while of silence, he took a deep breath then said slowly, "Hey, Gil, is there anything you should be tellin' me about?"

And, Gil froze. By those very words, he knew Warrick knew and he'd likely made a serious error by not telling him about Denver and Matilda sooner. Watching his own hand push his coffee cup away to give himself time to formulate a response, he finally said, "By the way you say that, all I can assume is you already know there is. All those, ah, strange phone calls we have been getting? They' come a woman named Matilda Brookshire that I met while I was in Denver. It seems she's under the mistaken impression there was more to our… time together than there actually was and she has started the process of filing a departmental complaint of sexual harassment against me. It may possibly escalate into something worse than that."

"Really?" Warrick said, still not looking up at him. "Why?"

Unconsciously gripping the edge of the table with both hands, eyes on Warrick so intensely, they had begun to water, he whispered, "There was… intercourse. But, it all was a mistake, Warrick, a terrible mistake. I never meant for it to end up like that."

Warrick smiled a little, the look of it filled with bitterness, his head never coming up so Gil could look into his eyes. "What? Did she force herself on you or something?" Warrick's voice was very soft but had an edge to it. "Was she some big, strong bodybuilding type who threw you down and had her way with you?"

Ignoring the cool sarcasm, Grissom said, "It was a mutual decision. Neither of us did anything we didn't want to do. That morning, I told her it was a mistake, that I loved you and there could never be anything else between us. But, I guess she didn't believe me. She thought she could change my mind and kept calling towards that effort. I'm pretty sure it's her who's been hanging up whenever you answer the phone. She seems to be have been convinced she could get me to replace you with her and put the complaint in only after I made it clear that could never happen."

Warrick finally lifted his head to stare into Grissom's eyes, still tapping his fingers on the table, a sound and action so suddenly irritating to Grissom, he would have waspishly snapped at Warrick to stop it if the circumstances had been different. But they definitely were not so kept silent when Warrick said, with a strange amusement, "So you had actually had sex with somebody in Denver, huh? After all that flack you'd been giving me about being too close to friends, you went and had sex with somebody else."

Grissom opened his mouth to deny that. He wanted to deny that. He wished with all his heart that he could say he had met and innocently slept with another person not said he'd had sex with some other person. He desperately wanted them to go by that supposition, whether or not it was true. It was more than he could stand to think he had been the one to betray Warrick after all the times he had come close to accusing Warrick of committing the betrayal. But Warrick wouldn't go for that. He had the bad habit of breaking things down to the basics. Looking behind the words and getting right down to the heart of the matter was Warrick's forte, which was always difficult for Grissom to do. But to say he hadn't had sex with Matilda would be a lie, so all he said calmly was, "Yes."

Very softly, Warrick asked bitingly, "Did you enjoy it?"

And Grissom slammed his hands down on the table so hard, the dishes on it rattled, then stood up, abruptly furious without having the slightest idea why. "That is not the issue here!! The issue here is whether this relationship's worth continuing. If both of us can't be true to each other, maybe we shouldn't be with each other!! I certainly can't be with you, if you want to be with others, and all I can assume is you feel the same way about me!!"

Stunned, Warrick stared at Grissom from where he sat. "What the hell are you talking about?!!"

"I am talking about how you are always more emotionally involved with everybody else than you are with me!! You laugh and talk with everybody more than you do with me!!! They always have their hands all over you!!! But you don't even care how much that bothers me!!!! Everybody goes around feeling on you all the goddamn time, Warrick!! Everybody gets pieces of you that I don't!! They get more from you than I am!!! Hell, from what I know, you're fuckin' all of them!!"

Now, Warrick was on his feet. "I'm doing WHAT with all of them?!!"

"At least I'm making an honest attempt to be up front with you about what I've done!!"

"The fuck you are!! That happened over a month ago and I'm just now finding out about it!!"

"That's still not the point!! I'm not the only bad guy in this!! I'm not doing shit behind your back!! I'm not being a hypocrite about what I've done!! I'm going to be honest with you and with myself and you should do the same!!"

"I have been doing the same!! I haven't lied to you about anything. Damnit, don't go trying to turn this around and make it look like I've done something when I haven't!!"

"You have done something and know exactly what you did and I don't see why we have to put up with each other if this's how things are going to be between us!!"

"Well, hell, maybe you're right!! Maybe I really don't get how things are with us!! You've put me through changes just cause I have friends, then go off and find somebody to fuck behind my back who you've still been talking to and have the nerve to get mad at me!!!"

"I haven't been talking to her!! She's the one who's been calling me!!! I'm not pursuing her!! She's the one pursuing me!! I want you, not her!! But I refuse to be with you feeling like I'm always the one who's always wrong!!!" .

Leaning his fists on the table, Warrick demanded, "Grissom!! Do you have any idea how nuts you sound right now?!! Are you even hearing yourself right now?!! You are sounding crazy!!"

Grissom drew back, folded his arms over his chest to stare at Warrick for a long time in a furious silence. They gazed at each other, eye to eye, until Grissom said quietly, "I am not crazy. In fact, I'm saner than perhaps I've been in quite awhile and have finally arrived to a pertinent realization. It's you that make me crazy, Warrick. And that's become a problem for me that I don't think I can handle anymore."

At those words, a startled expression crossed Warrick's face. Then it faded as Warrick said, "You know what, Gil? Maybe you're right. Maybe you can't. Maybe you've ducked life so long, it's got to pass you by. Well, I'm not into that, I really am not. I'll see ya later, all right?"

After grabbing his keys, Warrick went out to the garage. When Grissom heard the garage opening then heard the Tahoe pulling out and the door closing, the tightness in his chest threatened to shut down and squeeze all life from his body. The episode had not turned anything like he'd believed it would. His hypothesis had been, when he had found the right time to inform Warrick of what had gone down in Denver, the honesty of his self-effacing confession would naturally lead to him and Warrick having a quiet, civilized conversation. They would place an agreed upon, permanent end to any mutual dalliances, kiss and make up and go out to spend a pleasant day together. He hadn't expected Warrick to assume he was the totally wronged party and storm out. Such a thing had not occurred to him. It was not the scenario Grissom had planned to have as a conclusion and he was very unprepared to deal with it.

After turning about uncertainly for a moment, he decided he would go about his day as if it was a normal one while waiting for Warrick to come to his senses. What he had done with Matilda was admittedly wide of the mark, it was no wider from it what Warrick had been doing. Warrick had ignored his frequently expressed insecurities about his many other relationships and how much of his time he spent elsewhere involved with other people. For Warrick to leave him swinging in the breeze to go off, having fun with others, hadn't been fair or right. There hadn't been a good reason for that. Grissom was sure he wasn't the only bad guy in this…. was he?

Other than at work, Grissom did not see Warrick over the next six days because he had decided to spend them at Nick's apartment. Both were professional and reserved on the job, making no effort to resolve any of the issues facing them. Grissom had fast found coming home to an empty house unappealing in every way possible, but wished for it on the seventh morning of Warrick's absence as he drove up to discover Matilda standing at the front entrance of the condo waiting for him. He was even more alarmed to see the front doors behind her was open enough for him to see into the vestibule, which meant she had been inside his house.

On catching sight of him, Matilda waved gaily as she started toward his Denali. Not wishing to be trapped in it by her, he climbed from it and walked away around it as she neared him, demanding while he did so, "What're you doing here? You really shouldn't be here," and while he frantically tried to arrive at any measure that would immediately get rid of her.

"Oh, sure I should," said Matilda airily. "Remember how I told you we were made for each other? Oh, Gil, shouldn't that young man of yours leaving because of me have convinced you of that? He has been gone for almost a week, hasn't he?"

Gil stopped walked. "How do you know about Warrick being gone?"

"Gilbert Grissom, I thought from all the conversations we had that you knew me better than that. I love you and I've been keeping tabs on you. That was hard from home, so I came to Las Vegas so I can do it close up, you might say. I've found out everything important there's to know about you and him, more than you'd ever think a layperson like me could find out. Maybe I'll join the police department after we're married. Wouldn't that be lovely? We'd work together as a team. I'm smart and would eventually make detective and you'd do what you do and we'd gain famous as husband and wife crime solvers. Oh, just THINK how lovely that would be."

She was coming at him again and Grissom resumed his careful retreat. "Matilda, you're not seeing things at they are here. I've made it as clear as I know how that you and I will never be together. I am not available and you have to know this by now. How can you think any different after telling my superiors I sexually harassed you when you and I both know I didn't."

"Oh, that was just to keep your mind on me because I couldn't get in touch with you by any other means. But, that's all in the past now. I'd never let you lose your job. You're too good at it, I'd bet. What I'll do is talk to your sheriff and clarify everything. Most important, Warrick Brown's wiped clean from our life now. I promise you won't have to worry about that. I fixed things so you won't ever want him anymore. That'll make it easier for you and me to be together."

Once more, Gil stopped. "What are you talking about? How have you fixed things?"

"Well, see, Gilbert, I've been watching your place and hadn't seen your little boyfriend coming in and out. A good thing, of course. But, he showed up this morning and went in and, Gil, I couldn't let him think he was just going to up and waltz back into your life after he'd used and abused you like he had been doing. So, I went in and, I, I shot him in the head." Upon hearing her saying that, Grissom's heart lurched in his chest and he felt as if he was about to either pass out or throw up. It was a moment that to the end of his days, he would never want to relive again. The very notion of Warrick dying had never occurred to him, but it did right then and he never wanted to feel such a violent emptiness ever.

At the same time, the weirdest look of saddened dismay crossed Matilda's face, one indicating she had not quite believed what she had said herself. And that was when Grissom finally realized that she had severe, possibly undiagnosed mental problems and while she might not be responsible for her actions, he had to do whatever was necessary to minimize whatever damage she had done and had to do it quickly for Warrick's sake.

Speaking quietly and walked toward Matilda now, Grissom asked, "Where's Warrick, Matilda? Is he in the house?"

At Gil speaking to her, Matilda regained her perky smile. "Um, yes. Yes, he is, as a matter of fact. I tied him to the bed and we talked awhile, he and I did. He's quite the nice person, actually. I was a tinny bit upset at that. I truly didn't want him to be so nice. It would've been easier getting rid of him if he hadn't been."

After cautiously looking Matilda over and noting she was unarmed, that there wasn't any place on her for her to have concealed a weapon, Grissom neared her to gently take her elbow. "Why don't you take me to Warrick," he suggested gently, "so we can be together as we tell him what's going to happen now?" While he guided her into the condominium, he reached into the opposite pocket of his jacket where his cell phone was to dial Brass' number. Then as he steadily kept talking with Matilda, he raised his voice. He wouldn't be able to respond when Brass answered his call but had hopes he would listen in, understand an emergency was in progress and assistance was needed.

Matilda had bound Warrick's wrists and ankles to his own bed with his own ties and Gil instantly breathed easier upon entering to see Warrick turn his face very slowly toward them, and doing so without moving any other part of his body. Both his eyes were horribly swollen and watery, fluid from leaking onto the pillow under his head. They'd puffed up so, both his eyelids seemed closed, only allowing a slit enough for him to see the blurs of the two of them and say in a voice rimmed with prayerful exhaustion, "Gris?"

"Yeah, it's me, Warrick. How're you doing?"

"He's doing fine," Matilda snapped. "If he hadn't come back here, he would be doing much better. Even so, I tucked him in, nice and comfy, while we talked. We had to do that quite seriously. He's got no business coming around here no more and I've told him this. I also told him in no uncertain terms, let me tell you, he's got to promise to stay out our lives forever. I will have to put him from us permanently, if he doesn't. And I believe he understands how much I really mean that."

Keeping in mind she had said she had shot Warrick, Gil kept Matilda by his side as he went to the bed to get as close a look at Warrick as possible without releasing her. But there were no signs of any spreading blood on Warrick or the quilt covering him and he didn't seem to be in severe pain despite the condition of his eyes. Grissom asked of him again, "How are you doing?"

But once more, becoming a bit more upset, Matilda snapped, "I TOLD you he's fine. I don't want him to talk. He talks too pretty. If he says one more thing, I might have to... I'll have to make sure he never talks again, that's what I'll have to do…" Her head dropped oddly as she began wringing her hands and muttering to herself with a distressed frown, "Now what did I do with my gun…?"

She was becoming more and more agitated and Gil sought to calm her by saying, "Why don't you tell me what you've done to him if you don't want to hear him say anything?"

His speaking directly to her caused Matilda to instantly perk up. "Oh, sure. Let's do that. I can do that. That would be much better. Well, sorry to say, I did have to mace him several times when he woke up after I put him in bed and I saw where you got that notion you were in love with him. It's in those eyes of his. They've got that sparkly emerald thing going and, you know what? Emerald's my very favorite jewel, too. I was born May 1 and it's my birth stone. So see, Gil? You and I have one more thing in common. But we can't have that in common with him, so I had to make him not look at me with those eyes that had made you erroneously believe you were in love with him. Oh, Gil, it's been so hard to do what I knew had to be done."

She put her weight on his arm as she had in Denver, squeezing while lying her head against him. "But I had to do this for our love. I did what I had to do."

"What else have you done to him?"

"Wellll…," she drawled and giggled, placing a ladylike little hand over her mouth. "I'm a little bit embarrassed to tell you about this. I was really kind of mad when I saw how good looking he is. I wanted him to look at least average and would've preferred him to be downright ugly. His looking up at me and being so handsome and talking so pretty… was really an annoyance. I was going to shoot him again, but couldn't figure out where I'd laid my gun. So I went into the other room over there and saw all your spiders. Oh, Gilbert, let me show you how much I've learned about spiders. I did this just for you."

She released him and locked her hands behind her back to recite for him like she was a first grade student proud of newfound knowledge, "I picked this tarantula, specifically the Theraphoidae of the order Arrareae, suborder Mygalomorrha. Some theraphosids deliver painful bites. Harpactira lightfooti, a baboon spider from parts of Africa, is aggressive and people are sometimes bitten and that's the one I put under the quilt with Warrick. It is a tarantula; which, I add for your edification, isn't a spider by the way; that produces a neurotoxic venom.

"But the bites are never fatal. So you see? I'm not nearly bad as everybody seems to think. I made sure to pick one of the spiders that wouldn't kill him. I merely taught him a lesson so he'll know to never, ever bother us again."

Anxiously holding his breath, Grissom asked, "The tarantula you picked, Matilda? Where is it?"

"Oh," she answered, with an inhalation of air, rising and falling on her tiptoes. "There were two of 'em in the cage and I dumped 'em into the bed." She giggled, waving negligently at Warrick's bed as she added, "They're both still under the quilt with your former friend."

Eyes widening, Grissom understood with fearful consternation why Warrick was so still and why he was so sweaty. Two of Grissom's tarantula's were beneath the quilt crawling on him and along the sides of his body. Maybe they weren't killers, as Matilda had said, but Grissom knew they had the capacity to still be deadly. A healthy adult who had bitten would survive but suffer such serious symptoms as vomiting, paleness, difficulty walking and shock. Grissom could not know if Warrick had been bitten or, if he had, how many times he had been bitten. Multiple bites could be life threatening if he didn't receive proper medical care in a timely manner.

As he was considering simply tackling Matilda and rendering her unconscious so he could rescue Warrick, the doorbell rang. Without giving the manner any thought, Grissom said, "Matilda. Can you answer that for me? I'd really appreciate it."

Glowing brightly because Gil had asked her to do something for him, Matilda patted his arm and said brightly, "Why, of course. I'll be right back."

He instantly rushed to the bed to snatch the quilt back from Warrick, catch both tarantulas as they skittered to safety and put them back into the cage Matilda had dropped onto the floor. After he'd done this, Grissom begin undoing the ties with which Warrick was bound, but freezing a moment later, head turning sharply about as he heard an unearthly scream come from the living room. His hands went back to freeing Warrick, but his attention remained on whatever was happening in the living room even as he asked of Warrick, "Are you all right? Have you been bitten?"

Warrick shook his head as he watched Grissom hurried try to loosen his bounds. "I don't think so. At least, nothing hurts like I figure getting bit by a tarantula would."

"You definitely would know if you'd been bitten. It would've been very painful. She said she shot you. Where's that at?"

Again, Warrick shook his head. "She didn't shoot me. She shot AT me but never hit me. It's only my eyes that she mostly got."

Having ascertained that Warrick was pretty much safe from serious peril, Grissom was relieved and far more relieved when Brass entered the room with his gun held in both hands but pointing at the floor, demanding as he came in, "Is everything okay in here?"

Grissom nodded, standing up to go around the bed to loosen Warrick's other arm. "We're both just fine. You've taken care of Matilda?"

Brass holstered his gun and moved to undo one of Warrick's ankles. "Yeah. She went nutso on us, but she's in custody." Grinning, he looked up at Warrick's face to ask, "Mind telling me what this is all about, Warrick? Since she claims Grissom had his devious way with her, is this tying you up so she could screw you without interference about getting payback for that?"

"Go to hell, Brass," Warrick recommended. "She never touched me. All she really did was mace me about a dozen times and go on and on about how wonderful Grissom is and how I should let him go. Mostly she talked about was wishing me away so she could take my place and have him all to herself." He turned his head to look at Grissom. "I gathered you're a lot like her father and her father and mother have what she thinks is this prefect marriage. Guess she thought she could have the same thing with you if I was out of the way."

It wasn't until they were in an ambulance that Brass called for and on the way to the hospital that Grissom decided thing has calmed down enough for him to ask of Warrick, "Ricky, how DID she get you tied down to the bed? I'm sure you didn't just walk in there and lay down for her. You had to have been unconscious for her to do that."

"I was and it's really stupid. That little gun of hers was just some sorta starter pistol with blanks or BB's or birdshot or something. I was ducking and dodging when I saw it was barely penetrating the wall when she fired it at me. She's a bad shot and was way off the mark each time, but I didn't know that then. What knocked me out was tripping over your goddamned ottoman and hitting my head on that glass table by the couch. When I woke up, your girlfriend back there had dragged me into my room and tied me to the bed. She's little, but gotta be strong to have done it with me bein' big as I am. Too bad she's nuts too, cause you've gotta admire a woman with the kinda dedication and determination she showed. And you know the weirdest thing about 'er, Gris? Even after she'd tied me up, sprayed me with alla that mace and dumped those spiders on me, she never talked like she was crazy. She talked to me was completely cool until you got home. That's when she started losing it. How she started acting after she came in my room with you, all lovey-dovey and vague? Man, that was scarier than anything she'd done up to then."

Warrick had no acute damages other than his eyes being painful, reddened and swollen from that enormous amount of mace Matilda had sprayed into them and the small cuts and big bump on the back of his head from falling over the ottoman. After his head had been stitched and his eyes had rinsed out, his doctor, wanting to have the nursing staff verify he suffer no repercussions from his head wound, recommended Warrick spend a night in the hospital for observation. Although not at all thrilled by that thought, waking up and finding Grissom stretched out on a cot by his bed made it very worthwhile.

With a smile, he leaned up on his elbow to silently gaze at Gil and the love he felt for the sleeping man who'd liberated him and not willingly left his side since he'd come into the hospital was most tremendous. Just because of Grissom had he made a 180 degree change in his lifestyle, one that'd easy for him to do. He'd always had the greatest respect for the man, always had fervently tried to do that which most made Grissom proud of him and could take professional reprimands from him in a manner he could not with anyone else. They sometimes angered him but that anger dissipated quickly, for he was unable to stay mad with Grissom.

Figuring Grissom out and making him happy had become a very enjoyable endeavor for Warrick, one that he'd missed after he had left that last morning. During the time he had spent at Nick's, he and Nick had discussed his and Grissom's falling out until he had come to the final understanding that Grissom's calm and collected demeanor concealed a massive bundle of insecurities. Allowing his innermost fears to build up until they had to be, somehow, released and not always in the most positive manner was not how Grissom consciously or intentionally meant to deal with the familiar downsides of a relationship. But he was human so apt to make mistakes and Warrick had so much admiration for him, it was difficult for him to accept this about Grissom. Those mentoring aspects of their professional relationship sometimes spilled over into their personal relationship and, as he looked down on his lover, Warrick knew he'd have to be the one to give more than that customary fifty percent if he wanted this thing to work out. And that, he very much did. A final realization of that was all it took for Warrick to realize he could no more endure any further separation from Gil than he could stop his lungs from taking in oxygen.

With a sigh and a grin, he turned onto his side so he could see his lover through the lessened haze revealing his throbbing eyes were healing whenever he opened them. Going back home to be with his man was all that was on his mind as he drifted back to sleep.

With Warrick doing well, Grissom went to work the next morning, intending to do more catch up on that persistent pile of paperwork, go home to change clothes and return to the hospital with the hope Warrick would be released by then. But when he entered their condo, the first thing he heard was music coming from a room where Warrick's instruments including an electric piano had been set up. Because it was a love song Warrick had written expressively for him, Grissom knew what he was hearing was live and meant Warrick was also there. Standing stock still to listen to sounds from Warrick's musical heart caused his legs to so weaken, he thought he would have to sit down. It was causing his own heart to softly blossom with so much love even while other portions of his body hardened that he wondered how anyone could feel so full of airy passion and not float away into the ozone.

Their home had been cold, so very, very cold since Warrick had been gone and the lovely warmth Grissom felt in merely knowing he had returned was positively thrilling. He became so excited on hearing the jazzy sound flowing from the music room, he was barely able to prevent himself from rushing in to throw himself in Warrick's arms and camp there forever.

Instinctively realizing that would be the completely wrong move to make, he stilled, took several deep breaths without moving from where he stood. As impatient as he was to be with Warrick as they once had been, he knew better than to rush him. That could ruin everything and permanently turn Warrick away. He had to let nature take its course and let Warrick continue to come back at

He turned about in a silly circle, unsure what to do with himself if he couldn't go to where he had heard the sweet sound of Warrick coming from. Feeling ridiculously elated, but at the same while feeling stupidly confused, he finally decided to go to the kitchen and gather himself together. He had to calm down and think rationally before he lost all control of himself. He walked toward the kitchen, trying to detach himself from the emotions that were roiling about inside his head.

Thinking in third person, he sternly reminded himself it had been Grissom who had been the one to lose trust and believe a person could never have enough love to wholeheartedly share that with others and still remain true to a lover chosen for life. Grissom had been one who had committed a heartbreaking betrayal that had driven Warrick away. Grissom was the one not to understand how the physical act of sexual intercourse was not always the worst of sort of betrayal. It had been the symptom of his uncertainty about and distrust of Warrick's loyalty in this case. Conversation with Brass had shown him that. Additional introspection had painfully taught him he'd told Warrick of his dalliance with Matilda only after he had no choice and to ease his guilty conscience. It'd been also a wayward attempt at forcing Warrick to see how hurtful his bonds with Catherine, Nick and others were to their relationship. However, awareness of that revelation really had very little to do with honesty.

The gist of the matter was he simply didn't want Warrick to need or want anyone in his life other than Grissom. He had wanted Warrick to smother himself in Grissom's controlling love and still allow Grissom to retain whatever emotional distance he chose to maintain. But Warrick had been blind to his reactionary desire, so had done no such thing. He was able to love Gil unconditionally while still loving his close friends and family equally with the entirely different sort of love on an equal basis that Gil had not understood. That totally unselfish extension of agape love would have to be what Grissom had to give Warrick if he wanted him back again. This meant it had to be just Warrick to determine how, when or if their relationship could be put back together.

To be sure of making enough noise so Warrick would know he was there, Grissom went into their kitchen and used the blender to mix up a few of the icy margaritas as he sometimes did after they had gotten home from work. After several long minutes, Grissom was elated to see Warrick come out the music room to sit down on the one of the stools on the other side of the counter. Although the counter was between them, at least he was where Grissom could see him. Dipping the edge of a glass into a bowl of salt, Grissom turned it over to fill it with the margarita and pushed it over to Warrick then poured one for himself, slowly walked around and slid onto the stool next to him as he asked casually, "When did you get home?"

"About an hour ago. Catherine and Nick came by after work to see me and Dr. Jessup said I could leave. So, they brought me home. They also told me that Matilda's parents arrived from Australia to take her back home and sent their appreciation to me for us not pressing charges against her."

Grissom nodded at that. "Yes, he did. I met them and they're very nice, decent people. Her father told me she'd been diagnosed as schizophrenic about fifteen years ago while she'd been in college but had been taking her medication and had been doing well for the last few years until her fiancé called off their marriage about six months ago. He'd hoped the trip to set up the tracks in Denver, by getting her away from home where she had to see her boyfriend with his new girlfriend every day, would take her mind from her troubles. However, she fixated on me, which made everything get worse instead of better."

Warrick's beautiful eyes were still terribly red. It was from Matilda repeatedly spraying him with mace but also, Grissom suspected, from tears and weariness born of trying to figure out a man he loved very much but continued to defy his understanding. They showed physical exhaustion that was the result of recovering from wounds dealt him at the hands of a maniac who'd equated love with ownership, which was, unfortunately, a failing of Grissom's as well. His reluctance to share Warrick with others and refusal to see a relationship, including his own with Warrick, for what it really was, had taken him into Matilda's arms and body in the first place. That it had to have been Warrick who had been harmed because of his lifelong struggles to achieve emotional health broke Grissom's heart.

His guilty conscience was ordering him to walk away. By leaving Warrick in peace, he'd be doing him a kindness. It was the best thing he could do for him after all the hurt he had piled on him and the pain he had caused him. But that, he could not do. At no time, had he considered this. Calmly, he realized he could not envision this. Living without Warrick was unimaginable. During the two days with Matilda, he had never once thought life with her did not include Warrick, although he'd not given the slightest consideration to what form this might take. Looking back on it now, he had to marvel on how strange the mind worked. Even while wanting the qualities Matilda had offered, everything in him had known he needed Warrick much more.

When he had been making love to Matilda, he had stood outside himself as an analytical observer of the process. He had watched her reactions and been charmed by them, had been puffed up as a man when he had fulfilled her. But he was never able to maintain such distance with Warrick and that troubled him. Sexual interactions with Warrick had fulfilled him instead, as if he was the one who'd had an emptiness and neediness. Even if he had been the one to enter Warrick, he had been still the one with a greater sense of completion and fulfillment after they made love. Warrick had never attached such a quality to their relationship. He didn't crave Grissom to feel complete. He'd always felt whole within himself without the necessary requirement of anybody in his life to give him a sense of wholeness. However, he still felt his life was greatly improved by having a variety of loved ones in it.

Grissom had never loved anyone like that. He could never be the friendly social creature Warrick was and did not want to be. Warrick had accepted him as he was but he had not accepted Warrick was as he was. He had not reasoned out why this was, but was putting his mind to an examination of this unreasonable situation, particularly during the past lonely days he'd been without Warrick. He didn't understand himself why he just did not accept what Warrick had offered him. Whenever they were together, Warrick was always totally with him. During the specific time of their sexual interaction, they were completely connected. That connection was so all consuming, Grissom was unable to think of anything else, want anything else or wish for anything else other than the touch and taste of the man in his life.

He couldn't remember a single occasion when he could retain enough clarity to watch Warrick, as he had Matilda. He always remembered listening Warrick, of course. He wasn't much of a verbal lover. But Warrick brought a wickedly, loving laughter to sex and vocalized what he was feeling. Additionally, Warrick always enveloped him in such tender protectiveness and warmth, Grissom had finally been able to step outside himself to give all he had to another. It was the formula he'd needed to feel life to its fullest. He had never been able to do that not under any other conditions and could not still.

After they made love, and were lying in each others' arms, there was always that wonderful sense of togetherness and relaxation which gave him a sensation of safety like none he had ever known. Grissom compared this to what it must have felt to be curled inside a mother's womb, secure from all harm without being aware of any need for security. That was how he felt with Warrick. To put it simply, Warrick was as necessary to him as food to eat, air to breathe, water to drink.

Warrick was a need. Not a want.

And, finally, Grissom knew he would take him on whatever terms he could get him. Sitting close to him but not daring to make physical contact with him, Grissom could not prevent himself from asking, "Are you… here to stay?"

At first, Warrick only nodded numbly, as if answering in the affirmative was not what he wanted to do. Then he whispered after a soft sigh as he swiped a slow hand over his face, "I guess I am. I had come home to tell you that when stupid from the outback showed up with gun in hand to do a woman scorned number. It seems like… I just can't stay away from you, man…"

He could not have said anything that would've filled Grissom with more joy. Lifting a hand, he let it hover tentatively in the air just above Warrick's shoulder as he said quietly, in the most gracious and grateful voice, "May I touch you?"

Warrick made a quiet, humph sound of amusement as he grinned. "Sure. Go right ahead." For a time, he did not do anything after Grissom gently laid his hand on him, simply sat and sipped his margarita. But then, he said "Love means a lot of things, Gil. Means I can still love a lot of other people, but I'll always love you best. It means I might look at other men and women, think they're sexy as hell, even tell you I think so. But that still doesn't mean I wanna fuck 'em or leave you for 'em. And you'd better start gettin' with that or what we had… we'd better not start again. Cause it won't work."

It was Grissom's turn to nod now in an acknowledgement of the discovery process of self. "I have been doing a bit of reading about the historical definition of love. Surprisingly enough, Brass was the one who insisted I do so, if I wanted you back. There are three primary categories, Eros, Philo and Agape. Eros is simply infatuation, generally based on first impressions and frequently on just the physical. Philo is social love, what interconnects us as a people. Agape is the most mature. It's unconditional and completely unselfish. That is what you possess, what I lack and what I have not understood about you. I had always thought you were too temperamental, incapable of controlling your emotions. I was wrong about that. Maybe you do speak your mind to the wrong people at the wrong time, but no more than I have. You tend to do it louder and more in the face. However, I've a nerve to judge you for what I've done myself and that is exactly what I have done. I was envious of the closeness you had with Nick, Catherine and a few others because I've never had friendships like that. I was never able to understand them. It was my belief any such relationships had to have a sexual component."

Warrick grinned wickedly, peering into the margarita glass. "They DO have a sexual component, Gris. That's a given when you've got somebody's as sexy as Nick and Catherine are. But that still doesn't mean a sexual component has to be acted upon."

Grissom ducked his head, rather like a mischievous child who was ashamed of a deed done that he or she had been specifically told not to do as he confessed, "That's a lesson that I have had to learn in a most painful manner. I nearly lost you because I hadn't learned that."

"Well, there're two more components you should learn in case we ever run across a situation like this again. Number one. If you're stupid enough to act on it, please don't the fuck tell me about it after the point of no return. Cause no way I wanna know about it. It's got to be your own personal guilt trip. I know you. You really aren't a man built for cheating, so I doubt you'll ever do it again. But, if you do, leave me out of it, okay? Please do me the favor of keeping it and your paramours to your goddamned self. I won't wanna hear about it. This shit ripped you up more than it did me, but you going through changes put me through changes. So if there's a next time, leave me out of it. I don't want to go through the changes you put yourself through and made me go through with you, I really, really don't.

"Number two, we're opposites, Gil. It's part of probably what attracted us to each other in the first place. I take things in, work 'em around and let 'em right back out. You take em in, hold on to 'em tight and never let 'em see the light of day again. We gotta accept that about each other. We gotta live with that about each other. I gotta live with the fact you've got a stick up your ass that's there for life. Going around emoting ain't your style. You are a loner who won't ever be that socializing type. I've got that now. You have got to live with the fact I'm gonna always like people around me and I ain't gonna change. I'll try to keep the aggravation it causes you to a minimum, but, man, it's still got to be a part of our lives you've got to live with, all right?"

"It's extremely all right. From dealing with women like Sara and Matilda that're too much like me than I care to admit, I learned something important about myself. Trying to change who you love into someone else usually means you're trying to change them into yourself. That generally means you're trying to put qualities on them you didn't like about yourself, then won't like about them, if they choose to adopt them. If that wasn't the case, I would have fallen in love with Sara instead of you and it might've been love at first sight with Matilda, as she wanted it to be with us, but wasn't and wouldn't ever have been."

Gil squeezed Warrick's shoulder, giving it that familiar pressure he and Warrick both knew meant he wanted to make love. "Ricky, are you tired?" he asked. "You look like you need some rest. I'd like to give you a massage. It'd help you relax."

But Warrick shook his head. "Not right now. Right now, I wanna talk and have another margarita. We have gotta work this shit out, Gil. We're in this for the long haul and don't need the confusion or misunderstandings that usually mess a relationship up." Very tenderly and lightly, he laid a fist against Gil's temple. "I wanna be with you for life, Gris, and I want our lives together to be happy right down to the day they put both of us in the ground. I love you and you love me, but it's gonna take a helluva lot of work for us to get to that kinda happiness."

Grissom leaned into Warrick's hand, melted as it opened to cup his face. "Then, all I can suggest," he said, "is we begin that work, because living without you isn't a possibility. I love you too much to ever let you go again, even if it's only for a few days."

"Yeah, it's like the same way for me too." As Warrick kissed Gil gently, he whispered, leaning to the side to flick his tongue into Grissom's ear, "Gimme another margarita. Get me drunk enough, maybe bed and a massage will be what I want. It isn't right now, but might be pretty soon."

Grissom smiled and stood up. "Your wish is my command. One more margarita coming up."

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