Title: Black Gold and Crimson Steel
Author: Esynnaj
Author Email: vebesahchalarc@sbcglobal.net
Category: Death, Drama, Established Relationship
Rating: FRAO
Pairing: Warrick/Gil
Status of Story: Complete
Note: Is the 6th story in the "Round Table Discussion" series
Summary: How far will you go to protect those you love?
Warnings: violence
Story Notes: It's Karen's fault Lolita Avondale has expanded to full life in my mind. She happens to be the one who put the idea of finding out what she'd been doing through the years.

Riding together from work should have been more unpleasant. Mostly done in pensive thoughtfulness, any mutual disquiet began draining away during the drive and was gone by the time they reached home. Grissom very infrequently lost it as he had this evening at work, but Warrick was the only one who able to infuriate him so that he did. With anybody else, supervisors, co-workers, those under his authority, suspects or victims, Grissom expressed himself forcefully and sternly but calmly and evenly under the most difficult circumstances. Usually, that is. Many thought him incapable of strong emotions. But it was not like that with Warrick, though. It was never like that with Warrick. When there was enough of a time span between whatever incidents might have set Warrick off and Grissom having to reprimand him, he could do so fairly unflappably. But throughout this night's shift, Warrick had patherishly stalked the corridors of the lab like a black thundercloud threatening to burst its boundaries and rain down fury, keeping everyone on an edgy tenterhook, nervously jockeying about him on tiptoe, waiting for that inevitable detonation. It finally came as dayshift had come in, passing by midnights as they got off and Conrad Ecklie had made an unfortunately snide comment to Warrick about how he was busily increasing the world population while currently seeming to have nothing to do with women, which was unlike the reputation he had developed and honed to perfection in former years.

Hearing Warrick's rising voice, Gil had hurried to where he was backpedaling Ecklie to a wall, then wedged himself between them, turning and slamming Warrick to the wall instead while shouting into his face that he was going too far and had to stop. Although Warrick had continued to glare at Ecklie over Gil's shoulder, he had obediently shut his mouth and let Gil's low, soothing words soak in. Ecklie, knowing what he'd said had been incorrect, apologized for uncalled for his references to Warrick's children as a passel of brats and his inference Warrick was living an unconventional lifestyle. His apology led to Warrick doing the same for allowing mere words to get under his skin. Both men were aware of their individual wrongdoing and preferred the incident be forgotten, so it pointedly had been. Ecklie hadn't any intentions of writing Warrick up for a confrontation in which his own actions might be called into question. Ecklie was too much of a budding politician with too high expectations for a glorious, career climbing future to take that chance.

One of the first rules Warrick and Gil had instituted after establishing their relationship was nothing that happened at work was never to come home with them. They had done well at keeping the professional and the personal separate. By the time Gil had parked his Denali in their garage and was walking into the condo, he could say without reservation, "You shouldn't do things like that at work, Ricky. It not only causes both of us to engage in inappropriate behavior, shoving you around like that got me hot as hell and getting a visible boner the size of New Hampshire while it's your presumed lover whom you're attempting to properly supervise does call one's professionalism and objectivity into question. I'd really rather not have you making that happen on me, Ricky, I really would not. It just gives Ecklie additional ammunition against us."

Wanly, Warrick turned a slight smile on Grissom as he held the side door open for Gil to pass by him into the condo and said, "Conrad's a dick with his head up his ass. Whatever he might suspect, the asshole can't prove. That cocksucker couldn't find his nose on his own face even if somebody drew 'em a map to it. You're too smart for 'em manage that."

"Thank you for the compliment but don't be overconfident about Conrad's obtuseness. He's dogged and determined when it comes to digging up dirt and he'd loved to dig up some on me and, consequently, on you, if that would injure me in any way.So, Ricky, as much as you possible can, please do not let him upset you again. Whatever he may say, it really can't do you any harm. Because, you see, I've got more dirt on him than he does on me. We can handle exposure easier than he can. Ecklie wants to go places that you and I don't, so he can't afford to have his name negatively pasted around. I'd be more than willing to arrange that, if he pushes an envelope that he shouldn't. I can handle him. So close your ears to the noise he makes, walk away and let him be."

"Gotcha, Gil."

They had been together long enough for any restlessness in one to be catching for the other. Whenever one couldn't sleep, automatically, neither could the other. Gil had already lain for more than an hour listening to Warrick's too even breathing, an indication he was still wide awake. Gil had no need to ask questions. He already knew what was worrying him. He was much more concerned with reducing the tension that had been stressing Warrick out for the past three days. Even at the best times, Warrick was moody. Whenever he was wound up, that always uncertain, explosive temper of his, although he was, with Gil's assistance, gaining more control over it as he matured, was still prone to unexpected outbursts. While they had been on a crime scene on the previous shift, he had snarled at Greg, which had ended with Greg snarling right back, a sign Greg was coming into his own as a CSI. A few years ago, he would've just stood humbly while Warrick yelled at him. Now, he had been a CSI long enough and was confident enough in his skills not to just bow his head and take it if he thought he was being unjustifiably accused of a mistake. Two nights before that happened, as he'd passed them by, Gil had heard Catherine dressing Warrick down for bringing a victim's mother to tears for sneaking back into the house and removing evidence of her daughter's rape and murder by the mother's boyfriend after she'd been told not to touch anything. The mother had been wrong, but Grissom realized Warrick would not have come down on her so hard if he had not had so many pressing personal issues on his mind to interfere with his professional duties. After having spent a goodly amount of time prearranging what he meant to do and say, Grissom turned over toward Warrick where he sprawled on his back, used a finger to tilt his face and kissed him lightly while running an arm and leg down his body.

In the artificially manufactured darkness of their bedroom outside which a bright, hot Las Vegas sunshine was beating down on the rooftops, Gil heard but could not see him say tiredly, "Gil, man, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do this right now..."

"I beg to differ," Gil murmured, beginning certain familiar administrations always guaranteed to get an unavoidable and irreversible, biological reaction from his lover. "I'm convinced that, of course you can." He was correct. Within a few moments, Warrick was humming his pleasure. A few moments after that, he was arching into Grissom's agile hand, mercifully being given a release that shook him to the core and allowed him to fully, physically relax for the first time in nearly a week. Then Gil began to kiss him, deeply and tenderly, completing that relaxation. Warrick was almost asleep when Grissom propped himself up on an elbow, leaned over him and patted him on the belly as he said to him, "We need to talk, Warrick."

Laughing drowsily, Warrick nuzzled his head into Gil's shoulder to nibble at his underarm as he mumbled, "No we don't."

"Yes we do," Gil said, pushing his head out of where it was burrowing. "So stop that."

"But, I really should be fair and do unto you as you just did unto me."

"I'd like that, but only after we've talked. You weren't concerned about fairness until I mentioned talking."

"Awww, shit, Gil, what's there to talk about? Loki comes to town and says Jason's sent in hired guns to bring Lola and Juny back to New York. Then Brass tells us some New York types hit Vegas a few days ago and been seen lurking around asking questions about her, but nobody can make a move on them unless they make a move first. Still, Lola's acting like everything's just peachy keen. So what's there to talk about? She's not letting us do anything to help her."

"Well, she has to, if it concerns her or June's safety. To put it briefly, I have been considering whether you might think it's a good idea to let Lolita and Juny stay with us awhile. That'd put another barrier between any of Thatcher's men finding them."

"Uh-uh. That's not a good idea. First place they're looking for her is wherever I'm at, since all Jason knows is she came back out here to find me. She's much better off away from me and with Loki. Both of 'em know how to take care of themselves and look after Juny."

"Perhaps, but I talked with Brass and he'd be willing to put a 24 hour watch on our house if they moved in with us. The area where Lolita's staying isn't the best and her neighbors would recognize an unmarked police car as if it had a neon sign. We live in a gated community with its own guards patrolling and we're also living with neighbors who keep to themselves and mind their own business. I really think they'd be safer here."

"Thanks for the suggestion, but adding Lola to our mix would like piling gunpowder on it. That wouldn't work, Gil. I don't want her here."

"Are you worried you can't resist her?"

"Hell no, I'm not." Warrick grinned. "In fact, I'm worried it's you who can't resist her. You seem to get a helluva of kick outa being around little Lolita."

"I will admit she fascinates me. It's like watching a volcano bubble and wondering when it's going to erupt and which way it's going to flow. You two are very much alike, so very likely to explode. I'm always surprised you stayed together as long as you did. Why did you?"

Laughing, Warrick said, "That isn't the most intelligent question you've ever asked, Gil. Just from the little you know about her, imagine how interesting it'd be having a woman like Lola being in love with you and you being in love with her at a time in your life when balancing on a live high wire and trying not to fall off was the most fun you'd could ever think of having. That's how it was with her and me. By the time I met you, I was getting older and wiser, losing both the taste and the knack for our balancing acts. Lola's wild con games had gotten too many people after us and my gambling was sending me deeper and deeper into debt. Lola and I'd become a no win proposition. I was getting too tired and old to walk the line with her like I can with you. I fell to the wayside and let her go on how she had to go. We were still working for her, but not for me anymore."

"You don't think that fever you had for her could be renewed?"

"Not a chance. I love you too much. The fever I've got for you burns higher, brighter, deeper and truer than the one I had for her ever did."

Grissom smiled, the last little doubt he'd had about Lolita and Warrick fading into nonexistence. "But she's still the mother of your son and you're obviously worried about her."

"Not enough that I want her living here. She'll be okay as long as Loki stays around and has his eye on her. He keeps her in check better than anyone else can. He's always been good at that."

"Then why have you been stomping about the place like a bear driven out of hibernation early for almost the whole week, if you honestly feel like that? It appears to me, it's because you've been concerned about Lolita and Juny that you let Ecklie get to you as you did and been growling at everyone crossing your path for the last few days. You can't do that, Warrick, especially not on the job."

Warrick was silence for a time then sighed and said in acknowledgement, "I know. I'm sorry. I'll do better."

"I believe you'll try, but promises of doing better are always difficult for you as long as someone you care about is in trouble. I think it'd be better if we..."

But Warrick suddenly rolled over and pinned Gil to the bed, saying as he did so, "I think it'd be better if we drop this and you let me do unto you awhile. Whatever we plan to do about Lolita and Juny, we can start doing later on in the morning."

And that was what they did, for Warrick went for that one particular spot which always instantly short circuited Gil's thinking processes and Grissom was gone, with no more command over his bodily functions than if he had been paralyzed. Warrick took over, Gil let him and Lolita was completely, temporarily, forgotten.

But not forgotten for very long. A few hours later, Warrick was dragged from a sound sleep by the telephone, its ringing sounding urgent. He fumbled for it, found it and growled into it, "Brown here."

"Warrick, this's Loki. Lola and Juny are gone."

Warrick achieved immediate wakefulness and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he demanded, "What the hell do you mean, she's gone?"

"What I said. She left me this note and she's gone."

Warrick sat up straight with a frown then sighed and slumped forward, asking with relief, "Did you say she left a note?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"What's the note say, Loki?"

"That she and Nick are riding out to a bed-and-breakfast with June for the weekend in some little town called Lakewood and won't be coming back to Vegas until Monday morning."

"They're with Nick? Then they'll be all right. He'll take care of 'em. It might even be good for them to get outa town, put some distance between Thatcher's men and themselves."

"Rick, you don't know these guys. They've probably had Lola staked out for days, waiting for a chance like this. They're probably on her tail right now and will pick her up along the way or whenever they get where they going and we won't be there to help."

"But you said you hadn't seen any sign of anybody stalking or trailing her."

"That doesn't mean they're not there. I'm not a cop, Ricky, I'm a lawyer. I don't get with the bad guys until after they've been caught, which usually means I get with the dumbest ones. Maybe it's the smart ones who're after Lola and I'm just not seeing them."

"Man, you're the one that's been telling me not to worry about Lola, that she can take care of herself and Juny."

"Yeah, I was saying that as long as she was where I could see the both of 'em. Now I can't, so now I'm worried."

"Have you tried to call 'er on her cell?"

There was a pause. Then Loki said reluctantly, "No."

"Then do that and call me right back."

"Okay. I'll do that."

As Warrick hung up the phone, Grissom mumbled from behind him, "Was that Loki?"

"Yeah, it was. He said Lola's gone outa town with Nick and Juny for the weekend. He's worried about her."

"Oh. Like you are, hmm?"

"He sounds as if more than I have been. He's gonna call her and call me right back."

But Loki never did that. Upon realizing he didn't know his sister's cell phone number, he went searching for it in her bedroom and discovered her cell phone lying on the night stand next to her bed. Highly exasperated, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out the apartment, heading for Catherine's apartment building that was about two miles away. When he arrived there, after Lindsey opened the door and invited him in, he greeted her as patiently as he could and asked to speak to her mother. Catherine came out and immediately recognized his anxiety as Warrick had not and demanded, "What's wrong?"

"Lola and Nick's left to someplace called Lakewood for the weekend and taken June with 'em. I just don't think it's a good idea for 'em to be that far away from me and wanna ask a favor of you. Can I borrow your car to go after them?"

"You're going all the way to Lakewood by yourself?"

"It's not that far away. I looked it up on Mapquest. It's a straight shot out the interstate, only about a two hour drive. I'll be back with 'em long before it'll be time for you to go to work. I'd rent a car, but I'll even need somebody to take me to do that. If you can't let me have your car, I'd appreciate it if you'd just take me to a car rental place. I've got to go find my sister and nephew. They need me."

"Have you tried to call her?"

"I can't." He held up Lolita's cell phone, saying, "She didn't take it with her. She left a number to the place where she'll be, but I called and they hadn't got there yet. I can't wait. I have got to get to her. I've got to."

Loki was nervously pacing back and forth, practically vibrating with apprehension and adrenalin. His two mile walk that had been more of a trot under the hot Las Vegas sun had him so sweaty, he was dripping with perspiration and wet wisps ofhis burgundy colored hair was plastered to his tanned face, just as his thin shirt was plastered to a lean, rangy body. Catherine was mildly embarrassed that she was noticing how nicely his complexion went with the hazel eyes that were exactly just like his sister's when he seemed so troubled. Shaking her head to get it off her loins, she said, "Sure, you can borrow my car. In fact, I'll go with you, since my car's feeling a little finicky right now. I was going to put it in the shop on my next day off. I'll know how to baby it down the road better than you would. Give me a minute or two to get dressed and clear things with Lindsey so she'll know what she can and can't do while I'm gone and we're outa here. But you had better get me back here in time for work. Otherwise, it'll be you who'll need to be going into the shop."

An hour later, because Loki hadn't called, Warrick was climbing the walls. Sipping a cup of coffee while watching him prowling the living room, pounding a hole into the carpet while muttering furiously under his breath to no one other than himself, Gil picked up the phone when it rang and said a quiet, "Hello?"

"Grissom, it's Brass. We've got trouble, personal interdepartmental trouble. Locals down in Lakewood contacted LVPD about a call they rolled on at a local motel about shots fired. They found a couple of DBs in a room there. It looked like a professional hit on professional killers, bullet through the head then their throats were cut. One of 'em had been sliced all to shit all over his body, like he's been tortured before he died. How it's all connected to us is there was a typed out note pinned onto one of the bodies saying a little boy had been left at this bed and breakfast a mile or so down the road. When they got there, they found Nick locked in his car trunk and gone on the nut, trying to smash his way out. While the local cops were trying to get him out, Warrick's son came out from behind a building and told 'em who he was. He also had a key to the trunk and the locals used that to let Nick out."

Still with his eyes on Warrick, Gil froze where he stood, unable to speak for a moment. Then he asked as quietly as possible, trying to prevent Warrick from hearing any anxiety rising in his voice, "Are they all right?"

"Nick was freaked, as you might expect after what happened to him with Walter Gordon and all. He was rightfully shook up but already coming around and getting madder than hell, which's all to the good, far as I'm concerned. Better mad than sad, I say. As for the little boy, he couldn't be better. He's taking everything in stride better than a lot of adults I know."

"How's the woman who was with them?"

There was a puzzled pause then Brass inquired, "What woman?"

"Never mind that, it's not important. We're on our way."

"Good. Hurry up before the scene gets fucked up. These yahoos down here don't know their dicks from their assholes."

By instinct, Warrick seemed to know the conversation had something to do with him and had come to a full stop, staring stonily straight into Gil's eyes. As soon as Grissom put the phone down, he demanded, "What was that, Gris?"

He'd called him Gris, not Gil. The situation might be personal, but Warrick was going into professional mode to handle it. "That was Brass. He's in Lakewood."

"Isn't that where Loki said Lola and Nick went with Juny?"

"Yes. It is."

Warrick moved, going for his jacket, his badge and his gun even as he asked. "Is everybody all right? What's up with Juny and Nick?"

"They're with Brass and both are okay."

"Where's Lola?"

He had asked where she was at, not what was up with her or how she was doing. Warrick knew his former girlfriend well. He had already headed out the door and Gil halted him, saying, "We need to stop by the lab and pick up our gear. Brass wants us to work the scene and it looks like there might be two." While grabbing his jacket and other things, including his cell, he told Warrick, "You drive. I'll call Catherine and Sara while we're on the way. We're going to need everybody."

****************************************************************************

After Catherine's car had overheated and she had called for road service, she and he had stayed in the car to wait although the idea of waiting had seemed to be the one notion bound to drive Loki around the bend. But she had finally convinced him walking the twelve miles it would take to reach Lakewood beneath a desert sun and without water was not advisable. However, after getting Grissom's call, she became as antsy as he was and agreed to set out with him, hoping a stray car might come by and pick them up. Loki squinted at the heated waves rising from the miles of flat road they still had ahead of them and said, "Since it looks like we've got a long walk ahead of us, why don't you tell me about yourself while we doing it."

"There's not much to tell. I work for a living and I have a daughter to help grow up. That's about it."

"Oh, you have got to be lying."

"What makes you say that?"

"Any woman who looks like you must've led a helluva life."

"Well, I thank you for the compliment."

"It's not really a compliment. It's a truth. So tell me about yourself."

"It's pretty boring."

"I still wanna hear it."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Since it seems like we've got time for it, from the beginning."

"Well, I grew up on a ranch in Montana until my Mom and Dad divorced. Then my Mom had this hankering to move to Las Vegas. I was really still a little girl at the time, so I spent most of my childhood here. Mom hooked up with Sam Braun, a casino owner out here. They never married, but he was more of a father to me than my own Dad for years and we still kinda get along."

"I've heard of him. He's... got a well known reputation that extends all the way back into New York."

"I'll bet it does," Catherine said with a smirk. "He's more like a hardcore New Yorker than a true blood denizen of Vegas in a lot of ways."

"So are you, Catherine. You've had to use your looks to survive, haven't you?"

Catherine smiled. "In a manner of speaking, I suppose I have. I was a stripper for years, an exotic dancer in the polite parlance we working girls preferred to use. It was how I put myself through college. As soon as I graduated, I joined CSI and been a forensics scientist ever since. I love my career and I haven't wanted to ever do anything else. I've been doing it for a long time and I'm good at it. I don't regret being a stripper either. I'm not exactly proud of it but I'm not ashamed of it. The only thing I've ever regretted in my life was marrying a man who wasn't right for me. Being a stripper was just a job, but this's a career, like becoming a lawyer must be a career for you."

"Yeah, being a lawyer is a career for me. But it's not one I especially enjoy. It's how I Lola got me mixed up with Thatcher's crew in New York. I had moved from Vegas after my divorce and was working as a public defender in D.C. and going rapidly broke when she called me to ask me to defend one of Thatcher's men who had been accused of murder. Needing the money, I took her up on the offer and went to New York. Next thing I know, I'm taking murder cases where I knew the guys were guilty and still getting them off. I started to not feel very great about myself. But Thatcher's not easy to walk away from once you get mixed up with him. I was angling how to do that, when Lola left me there by myself and came back here out to Vegas to find Rick. I had decided to follow anyway when the word went out on what Thatcher was planning to do to her and I rushed out to tell her. "

"She must've gotten the word herself. That must be why she left June with Nick and headed in another direction. She wanted to take the heat off him. Leaving him with Nick and giving Nick instructions to get him back to Warrick must've been what she thought was the best thing for her to do."

"That's the logic I'm assuming. My sister's smart. I'm pretty sure she's safe, wherever she is, and figures Juny's safer with Rick than he'd be with her. That's why she came back to Vegas in the first place. I'd lay odds she intended to leave Juny with him, sooner or later, and go her way like she always has."

"Do you really think she had anything to do with the deaths of the two goons from New York?"

"I wouldn't put it past her. She carries a 22 and I taught her how to use it myself. Mom taught her how to use the razor. That's to make sure they're dead after you shoot 'em."

"It's the way Grissom said the local cops told Brass they were found, with a 22 slug in the brain and their throats cut with a very sharp object."

"That would've Lola's style. It wouldn't be the first time she's taken out somebody about to do her harm. If she was protecting Juny, she wouldn't have thought twice about doin' it. My Mom was the same way about us. They've both got a murderously maternal gene."

"My God, it must've been a helluva of a family you grew up in."

"It was. If I hadn't become a lawyer, I probably would've ended up in prison."

Catherine giggled a little. "You know, I happened to see on one of your cards that your real name's Aloysius. How in hell did anybody get Loki outa that?"

"It was my Mom's idea. She started calling me that when I was two years old and it stuck. It got to be what all my family or close friends called me. Only ones who call me Al are people I work with or acquaintances I've just met or something. Even then, if they ever heard anybody call me that, they'd think it was cute and pick up on it themselves."

"But where'd your mother get that particular nickname?"

"Well, see, it was like this. My Mom's told me that once when my Dad came to visit us before he took off for good, he thought there was something wrong with me. Guess he figured a two year old boy should up ripping and running around. But Mom said that wasn't me even then, and tried to explain I was a laidback kinda kid, kinda low key. But my Dad's well educated but still a few cards short in his deck and gets easily confused. He figured she was talking about Loki, a Norse god. My Mom liked the sound of it. She read up on Norse mythology and decided the name fit me. Loki was known as the god of mischief. He was a trickster god, a master of guile and deception, a god whose greatest weapon was a gift of gap. He was a fast talker who caused trouble then had to talk even faster to get himself out of it. Mom thought this was cool because we're a family of con artists from way back. To keep marks from knowing what you're really trying to get out of 'em, you have gotta out talk 'em and Mom was hot for me and Lola to get the knack of that. She loved Loki's personality and kinda pushed me into assuming a similar one. In that same way, she saw the first movie based on the Vladimir Nabokov novel and named my sister after that character, loving how a little girl was seducing a grown man just as much as he'd been trying to seduce her then took over his mind and drove him nuts."

"Oh yeah, that's definitely an apt description of our little Lolita. Does your name suit you as well?"

Loki grinned and shrugged. "Guess you could say it does. I don't think I make as trouble for folks as the god did, but I have caused my share of undercover trouble. I'll do that especially when someone messes with my family. I never liked doing a straight out con, but I did used to like putting people's asses in a sling if they came across at me as both ignorant and arrogant. It's a combination I hate. Please don't go getting all bodacious with me when you don't know what in fuck you're talking about. Even with what I've turned into, a dyed-in-the-wool, upwardly mobile, thoroughly materialistic buppie, whenever anybody's stupid enough to go the I'm-the-one-in control-and-you-are-dust-under-my-feet- for-me-to-grind-down route on me, I swear it'll take my back to my roots . Makes me wanna pull out every single con game on 'em that Mom ever taught me. When I was growing up, there were too many times I'd had to talk hard and fast to get Mom, me and Lola outa trouble after they'd ran their cons on somebody who got heated afterward. I was good as hell at that. Going to college and getting away from Mom and Lola, living around people with a different attitude and lifestyle got me outa that life, but seems like nuthin' can completely get that life outa me. There's much more of the trickster god in me than I'm comfortable with, but it's come in handy too many times for me to say I'm not glad it's there and a permanent part of me."

"Did you help Lolita teach any of your trickster godhood snick to Warrick? I know he's mentioned about running a few cons with her. Did he ever with you?"

"It was never like that with me and him. In fact, Rick never actually got into con games. When I first knew him, he was still dealing with his gambling fever and it was his primary interest. Any cons Lola was able to talk him into came about cause he was low on cash and had to feed the man. Even then, he was always as reluctant to do 'em as I was. Him and me, we were friends, running buddies. We spent most of our time going after or talkin' about women, tryin' get paid in various ways I'd rather not go into so we could keep body and soul together and, whether you wanna believe it or not, helping each other study, so we could get good grades. What we did most for each other was provide support while we tried to get clear of that lifestyle we were both still into. It was a quagmire that nearly drowned both of us. Rick got lucky when Dr. Grissom came along and helped him get out of it."

"Yeah, Gil did do that. Even just a few years ago before him and Warrick got together, when the gambling addiction was about to drag Warrick in again, Gil saved him from it after one of our own, a new CSI, got killed because Warrick was placing a bet for this crooked judge instead of covering her back. What or who was it that helped you get outa that life?"

"Mainly, I fell in love and got married. My wife Sherrie was a Delta on campus and wanted to do the white picket fence, garage and two kids in the burbs thing. We had the house and kids, but she was a buppie through and through, never understood how my family lived and never would get it through her head, although I got to be a lawyer making good money, I could never be the traditional husband she wanted to have."

"Whatdaya mean by that?"

"She wanted a nine-to-five husband who came home and settled in after dinner to cuddle and watch TV every night. That wasn't me. Never could be. For awhile, it worked with us, cause I loved her so much. Then she found the man who would do it just like she wanted. So I let 'er go. She and the kids are happier with him and I'm happier like I am."

"You're happier by yourself?"

"Uh-uh. Not that. I'm happier without the responsibility of having to make somebody else happy."

"I can get with that. I spent a lot of years trying to make somebody else happy and only ended up making myself miserable, especially after I realized he thought my happiness was based on his level of happiness. My ex-husband, bless his soul, thought I'd automatically be happy if he was and never understood the two were not tied together. You called yourself and your ex-wife buppies. Should I take that to mean you think of yourself as a member of the black race more than the white?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not your classic yuppie. Never have got to live the white bread suburban life most of them had. My dad was white, an Irish and German, but Mom's father was black and her mother was Navaho. My grandma actually grew up on a reservation in Arizona. If it hadn't been for them, no way could Lola and I have turned out as well as we have. They're really the ones who raised us. Mom was almost as much of a flake as our father. She'd always get itchy feet, get tired of being Mom for us and drop off to them for months, once or twice years at a time. They were living in a cheap mobile home park just outside Vegas and we grew up running the streets here, were blinded by the lights of the Strip just like Warrick was. Guess that's why I always felt him and me had so much in common. Both of us were goin' wrong and we both got onto a better path with a little help from righteous friends. Do you know I met him before Lola did? Warrick and I went to LVU at the same time. Lola met him through me."

Loki sighed, shook his head and grinned. "With all the problems we've brought to his life over the years, I'm surprised he's not just leaving us to suffer whatever fate throws at us."

"Hmm, no, Warrick wouldn't see it like that. He's not that kind of man and he's got Juny from the deal. Cause of that, I don't think he'd change anything that's going down, except for wanting to kick your sister's ass for getting herself so mixed up with Jason Thatcher."

*****************************************************************

Grissom and Warrick were loading up one of the department's Denali's when Sara arrived in Tina's car. Warrick's ex-wife, at the wheel, screeched to a quick, neat halt next to the SUV. Sara leaned over to give her a fast kiss in a manner that made Warrick and Gil mildly envious, for they could never have dared do the same as publicly with potentially prying eyes of co-workers about. Regulations against interdepartmental romances, especially between a supervisor and a subordinate, were too strictly frowned upon and would have led to disciplinary measures that might've gladdened Ecklie's heart and saddened theirs. There was very little conversation as Sara jumped from Tina's car and climbed into the other vehicle. Grissom got under the wheel then drove with sirens blaring and whirling lights flashing all the way out to Lakewood, so they could get there as swiftly as possible, passing Catherine's car on the way. They didn't even slow down, since he had talked to Catherine, who had told him that Loki and she had already gotten a ride into Lakewood and would meet them at the motel.

They reached the bed and breakfast first, but found only three of the local police, three county sheriffs and a couple of LVPD uniforms without Brass on the scene. After assuring everything was secured there and knowing everyone was too anxious to know about Nick and Juny's well being to work the scene comfortably, they headed for the small motel where the two dead bodies had been discovered. Brass was there, snarling at the local cops who were wandering aimlessly about, in his estimation, while doing nothing more than getting in the way. Warrick was out the Denali and walking toward him before it came to a full stop, Sara catching up with him to match him stride for stride as he neared Brass and demanded to know, "Where's my son?"

Brass eyed him. His day had not gone well and he was irritated. But being the father of a child, as wayward and hardheaded as that child was, he knew exactly how Warrick was feeling. He would never add to another father's understandable anxiety by reminding him that his tone of voice left much to be desired. "He's doing just fine, Warrick. He's with a social worker."

"What?!"

"Calm down, Warrick. It was best. The locals must've called her. She came and took him about an hour ago. She thought it was better to get him away from..."

"Took him where, Brass?!!"

With Brass losing patience, beginning to frown and cut an eye askance at Warrick, Sara squeezed Warrick's arm and said to Brass, "He is worried, Brass, and he's got good reason to be. So just tell us where we need to go, all right?"

"What about the crime scenes? Who's gonna work them?"

"We all will. I'll stay here and start, if that's okay with Grissom. Just let the Gil and Warrick see about his son. Then they'll be back."

After Grass had given them directions, Sara pulled her equipment from the back of the SUV while letting Grissom know what was happening. Once he agreed to it, he drove into town, parking at the police department and following Warrick inside, where Juny was nowhere to be found, where Juny had not set foot all day long. Warrick exploded, not a good thing to do when you're a black man, even one with a badge, in a small town where all the other police officers are white. Grissom's efforts to lead him back outside were only successful after tremendous exertion on his part and reassuring Warrick that Juny had to be safe was a lost cause. After finally getting Warrick back into the Denali, he was still trying to do that as they sat there. He was also trying to prevent Warrick from stalking back inside to further rail at the cops about their incompetence while he figured out their next move, having gotten several telephone numbers to the nearest branch of the Child Protective Services for which the social worker's official ID and plastic card indicated she worked. He was about to dial one of them when his cell phone rang.

A quiet, unruffled voice said, "Gil, it's me, Tina. Please don't say anything that'll add to Warrick's aggravation, but Thatcher has Juny. The woman who came to take him from the police works for him and the identification she had was stolen earlier today from the real social worker. Please listen to me closely and trust me now, if you never do again. Don't ask me how I know, just believe me when I say I know. Take the 15 back toward Vegas. About thirty miles out, get off on a road called Hoover. Follow it for a mile. There'll only be one building there, the house on a deserted ranch. That's where Thatcher has June."

Gil had said nothing, but just like before, Warrick's paternal instincts kicked in and he just knew what the call was about. Without hesitation, he pulled it away from Gil's ear and insisted he be spoken to. He listened as Tina spoke, got out the Denali while listening with his head bowed down to walk around the Denali and open Gil's door. Clicking the phone shut, he handed it back to Grissom and said simply, "I'm driving."

Seeing how determined Warrick was, Gil slid over, saying, "I'm calling Brass to let him know. We are not cops, Warrick. I'm not saying you shouldn't go after Juny, but we'll need some back-up out there. What we really should do is wait for..."

"Call whoever you've got to, Gil. Stay here and wait for 'em if you want to. Do whatever you gotta do, but I'm going after my son and I'm doin' it now."

Still, despite Grissom's attempt to intercede with Warrick's determination to seek his son, it never once occurred to him not to accompany him what was certain to become a dangerous venture. It was as if he, like Warrick, was being driven by a purpose superseding any sense of self-survival. At the same time, he had a sense of safety, felt strangely secure that no harm could come to him or those he loved.

Arriving in the area where Tina had said the house was, more than a mile from it, they pulled up next to Tina's car. Warrick cut the Denali's lights and motor, gazing at it as he got out the SUV, he muttered, "Damn. Why is Tina here? What the hell is it she thinks she's doing?"

"The same thing you are, rescuing Juny," said Sara's quiet voice as she came from the evening shadows that were growing into nighttime darkness. "She showed up at the motel and nothing I could say would stop her from coming out here. So, here I am, because no way in hell was I gonna let her come without me."

"It was a protectiveness that's deeply appreciated but was not required." Smiling, Tina stepped from another section of the darkness. "It's good you've come. Now we're ready to go get your son back, Warrick." Then she stepped back as she had stepped forward and seemed to disappear into nothingness.

After ascertaining he and Sara were armed, but Gil wasn't, with the same eerie calm that he was still feeling, Warrick and Sara moved before him as one toward the house in the distance where several cars were parked with their lights on and a number of people were walking about with large, heavy duty flashlights. Surprisingly, there was still electricity in the house, but as they neared it, its lights began to flicker and they heard voices raised in sudden alarm as that began to happen. Keeping to the shadows, avoiding the guards who were surely carrying weapons, they saw candles being lit in downstairs rooms where the lights had gone out and not come back on. Soon, flickering candles were providing most of the house's indoor illumination. Then, through the gloom, they saw Tina stride purposefully and directly up to the battered front door and knock on it.

Hissing, "Shit!!" in fear and fury, Warrick bent low, holding his gun in a two handed grip, and ran for the house, hot on Sara's heels, for she had taken off as soon as she had seen Tina going for the door.

All was chaos for a time. They could hear the pop of gun fire, but it sounded like a ridiculous noise that had nothing to do with them as they raced toward the house, their sense of invincibility totally at odds with reality. As they circled to stay out the cleared area in front of the house, Sara saw the amazing sight of Catherine's fiery red hair whipping her face as she shot at one of Thatcher's guards, dropping him in his tracks before fading back around the corner of the house from which she had come. Loki appeared from around the opposite side of the house, grapping another guard, a female, most likely the one who had pretended to be the social worker and had kidnapped Juny. They saw him neatly snap her neck then step out to join them, eyes flat and hard. Upon hearing a grunt, they turned to see Nick smashing the barrel of his department issued weapon down on the head of another man, putting every ounce of strength he had into the motion. The final guard standing watch outside the house, decided desertion was the better part of valor and took off with Nick in close pursuit. Thatcher's men had never had a chance. The last thing they had ever expected was for a bunch of armed figures to come out the night at them in the middle of the desert, each one primarily resolved to protect and deliver the others. They went down like dominos.

All of this had to be noticed in a span of mere seconds, because Loki had moved Tina to the side, kicked the door in and rushed in before her. Expecting gunshots, there were none as Warrick and Sara went in after them due to the bewilderment of the four men within having their eyes and ears seared by small globes that Tina threw on the floor which exploded, releasing a scorching bright light and ferocious noise. Then she opened her hands and blow a powder onto them which set them sneezing. Having done that, she moved away, vanished from the front room into the back part of the house and no one could take the time to watch while she flitted away. All their eyes zeroed in on Juny being held, dangling from his feet, in the arm of a young man with a frightening sharpness to his feature that was not whatever negated by his current confusion.

Without any hesitation, snarling wildly while he ran, Warrick barreled toward the man, ignoring the other three who were milling about him in befuddlement, crashed into him to knock him from his feet and snatch Juny from him. As he did that, Sara came forward, face set and stoic, long jean clad legs stepping over Warrick and his son as they rolled toward her. Leveling her gun, she fired at the first of Thatcher's men who seemed to be rallying, hitting him in the shoulder, spinning him about and sending him to the dirty floor. Cradling Juny, Warrick fired at one of the other men from where he had flung himself into a corner on the floor. One of the bullets slammed into his guts and he caved to his knees then toppled over, grabbing at his belly while screeching like an operatic first soprano holding a note.

As he went down from being shot by Sara, the third of Thatcher's underlings rallied and pointed his gun at Sara. But, as he did so however, Tina appeared from the rear of the house, coming between him and Sara covered with an unearthly glow that rattled his rally. Hissing at him, "You shall not!!!" she opened a hand and blew a widening puff of blue powder into his face that instantly set him sneezing and wheezing even as he whirled to face her, firing at the same time. Tina, making a sound of breathless shock, flew off her feet and crumpled to the floor. Loki, tackling the third man, went careening with him from sight into the dimness beyond and nothing came from that corner after Loki stood up other than an awful, bloody, muffled gurgling.Catherine was coming sideways through the door, her back to the door as she pointed her gun at the ceiling, held it at attention with her fists wrapped so tightly around it, her knuckles were white, although the weapon was empty. While she checked the scene, she shivered as her eyes passed over Loki and she saw him casually fold up and tuck away into his pocket a switchblade glistening with dripping red. They exchanged steady looks but said nothing. All was immediately understood. Loki was his mother's son and his sister's brother, whether he wanted to be or not, and could do whatever became necessary, according to his family's traditions, to protect and defend those he loved. Catherine managed the slightest smile. She had always liked her men with an edge.

The third of Thatcher's men going down left only one standing that was not there to bring Juny back to where he rightfully belonged. With eyes gone diamond hard and glowing like black ice, with a thin, psychotic smile on his face, Jason Thatcher whispered while he slowly lifting his AK-47, although both Sara's Browning and Warrick's Glock were pointing right at him, "Nobody gets my boy except me. You can't have him. I'll spill his blood and yours first. I'll spill the blood of everybody who's in this place, including his, before I'll let you take him from me."

Protectively pulling Juny tighter against his side and into an arm as he got to his knees, his own eyes beginning to snap cold, glacier green, Warrick snarled, "June's blood of my blood, man, blood of my blood, not yours, never yours, and I will kill you where you stand before I let you hurt or put another hand on him."

Everything started to seem like it was moving in slow motion as Sara and Warrick threw themselves to the side, both making frantic attempts to place themselves in the path of the bullets they were certain was about to come their way, put their bodies between Juny and the harm the insane man who had come to Las Vegas and claim him was about to bring down on them. Sara rolled rammed into Gil's legs to bring him down and out from the expecting passage of bullets, slamming him hard onto the floor, so he was stunned and left breathless. But Thatcher never got off a single shot. For suddenly, he jerked around as gouts of brains and blood spewed from the back side of his head, then his upper left side. There was this look of complete amazement and fatalistic comprehension on his face just before he dropped down onto the floor. The man's last words were a shocked and whispered, "Daddy, don't."

Then he folded up and went down like a rag doll, dying on his feet and dead before he hit the carpet.

Everybody was stunned into silence, their ears ringing from the sound of a double barrel shotgun having been fired in such a confined area. That silence was such, all eyes turned to stare as they heard slow, heavy, powerful footfalls of an extremely large, extremely black, barrel bellied middle-aged man coming purposefully from a darkened area beyond the living room. He walked from the shadows of the dark kitchen, came into the dimly lit room, stood over his son to look down on the body as the blood pumped from a hole that had torn off a portion of his left shoulder and arm and another which had sliced away the right side of his face and head. Then, his eyes already hollowing out in grief, Paul Richardson raised his eyes to Warrick and said in a mild, conversational tone, "I loved the boy. I came out here with him to save him from himself, if I had to. He knows I loved him and knows I did what was best. He'd never survive going back inside again. Jason never had the kind of strength for that. He's a strong man with a weak heart. Jason never learned how to be true to himself or anyone else. Even as a criminal, a man has got to know how to do that. Even as a criminal, a man has got to know who to stand with. A man has got to have friends. We've all got to have somebody. Everybody needs to have somebody to believe in them and trust them. Jason never knew how to get that from anyone. Jason knew he never knew how to do that. He was only good at using people and he did know that. Jason's mind hadn't got so tangled up he didn't know that.

"That's why he wanted June to come back to New York with him so bad. He thought having a son to take care of and love him would save him. He knew nobody's ever had loved him or would ever love him enough to help him save him himself. I didn't. I didn't until now. But I've proved that I love him now; he's in a good place now. God will know my boy never had anybody who took the time to teach him proper. God will do right by him. Jason's better off now."

Seeing that Sara and Warrick were the only ones with a weapon drawn but that Warrick had his out with his other arm around Juny, he walked over to Sara to give the shotgun to her. "Take this. I don't want to ever hold a gun in my hand again." After that, he turned toward Warrick, stared at Juny and said, "Take him home and raise that boy of yours right, Mr. Brown. Maybe he's not kin of my blood, but he's still my grandson and I'll always love him." Very gently, he touched Juny's cheek, smiling sadly when the child flinched away from him and clung tighter to Warrick. "Do better by your son than I did by mine."

Then the big black man went over to sink wearily into a chair near his dead son, lower his head so all he saw was Jason then went very still while he gazed down on the only seed that had ever come to life from him, his one child, his boy whom he had just murdered, whom he had just shot in the back and killed.

With the deafening silence still coating them, Warrick and Sara got to their feet. Warrick also handed his gun to Sara, too impatient to see to his son to holster it, as he should have. When he anxiously reached down his hands to Juny, Juny leaped into his arms, wrapped his arms about his father's neck, both legs about his waist, while burying his head under Warrick's chin. Sara stalked over toward Thatcher, cautiously circling him wide, tucked the shotgun under the arm that was still holding her gun pointed at the dead man as she flipped open her cell phone to call for the police and ambulances that were already on their way, previously sent for by Loki at Catherine's order and by Gil. While Sara did that, Warrick did nothing except hold tight to and comfort his son, hurrying with him from a house of death, carrying him into the warm air under the starry, Nevada desert sky outside.

Loki helped Grissom to his feet while Catherine rushed to Tina, ripping off own her shirt and using it to staunch a heavy flow of blood pouring from Tina's right side. Sara, who hadn't realized until then that Tina had been shot, as the others had not except for Catherine, yelled to them, desperation in her voice, "Is she all right?"

Glancing into Tina's eyes to seeing Tina smiling and wearing the pain well, Catherine smiled back and called back to Sara, "She will be. Don't worry about her. I've got 'er. Do what you've gotta do over there."

Loki was asking Gil, "Are you okay, Dr. Grissom?"

Gil nodded with his eyes wide as he gazed at Tina, and said in bewilderment, "I'm fine. Somehow, all of the bullets missed me. Somehow and in some highly unusual way, because of her, they missed me. Did you see how shiny she was in there, what she did to them? She didn't even look human."

"Yeah, I saw that. She's a helluva strange lady."

"She's a helluva of a wonderful lady. I owe her my life. We all do."

Outside, Nick had dragged together the man he had knocked out and the one he had ran down, had them both handcuffed together and stood nearby holding a gun on them when he saw Warrick coming out the house. Vast relief crossed his face and he walked toward Warrick, cautiously glancing back in order to keep his eyes on his prisoners while he asked, "Is everybody all right?"

"Everybody that should be is. Catherine got one, Loki, Sara and me took out three others and Thatcher's father killed him before he could do anything to us."

"Good," Nick snarled. "I hope they all die. I hope these two I got die of a heart attack or stroke or something worse happens to 'em while they're in jail, like maybe they'll get jacked up or fucked by the other prisoners. Couple of the assholes locked me in the trunk of my own car but all of the shit went down so fuckin' fast, I'm not sure which ones they were. So, I just hope all of 'em die. I'd kick the bastards, if Mom and Dad hadn't raised me to be better mannered than that." Nick sent an infuriated glare at the two men he had handcuffed to the handles on one of their own cars. Then managing to finally turn his attention back to Warrick again, recalling what had just been said to him, he asked, "The man killed his own son?"

"For the sake of his grandson, he did precisely that."

With his voice muffled from still being pressed in Warrick's neck, Juny asked, "Grandpa did that for me?"

Still worriedly rocking Juny, Warrick said, his eyes closed, "Yeah, he did that for you."

Pulling up to look Warrick in the face, his own face wet with tears of fright and anxiety, Juny said, "Mama always said that Papa wasn't quite right in the head and I would meet who was my real Dad. She said I couldn't ever tell Papa he wasn't my real Dad cause he'd get mad and hurt us, but told me I'd get to meet you one day and know you were really my real Dad and I did and she was right."

"Yeah, baby, she was right. Your Mama was right."

"She told me to always remember that, if it ever happened that she couldn't be around anymore. She said that you'd be there to take care of me. And you are. And you always will be, won't you, Dad? Huh? Won't you? You won't leave me, too, will you? You're not gonna get dead or go away too, are you?"

"No, baby, no. No, baby, never. I'll never, ever do anything like that to you." Sensing that his son was suffering from mild shock, Warrick was rocking and shushing his boy as he heard multiple sirens coming in the distance, was doing the same when they arrived, continued to do the same as the scene crowded with cops and the paramedics who were accompanying them. At first, he refused to let anyone touch Juny. It was only after Catherine came out to gently tell him how it'd be better for him to let the paramedics examine Juny that he released his son to them. Only then was he able to turn his attention elsewhere and he went straight to Grissom.

Walking over to the gurney on which his lover and supervisor lay with an oxygen mask over his face, Warrick squeezed his arm and asked, "How you doing?"

Pulling the mask to the side with a deep sigh, Gil said, "Much better now."

"Yeah, I agree. We all are."

"How's June doing?"

"He's doing okay. He shouldn't've had to go through what he just did, but he'll come through all right. I'm gonna see to that."

"We," Gil corrected with a quiet smile, "are going to see to that."

Warrick smiled wanly. "Yeah, that's what I meant." Reaching for the mask, he put it back on Grissom's face. "You rest. I'll be right back." Going over to the gurney where the paramedics were working on Tina, he eased to a clear spot, leaned as near her as he could get and whispered, "You are a phenomenon. Thanks for what you did in there."

Touching his cheek tenderly, she told him, "I owed you that much. You took me in and saved me when I had nothing and no one. I have this family of truth because of you. Don't thank me. It's I who should be thanking you."

"How'd you do what you did? Are you really some kinda voodoo queen or something?"

Tina laughed softly. "Oh no, I'm nothing of the kind. I admit to having a touch of the second sight like my mother and grandmother had, but most of it was just sleight of hand and chemical combinations. The glow I had on me was florescent dust and how I made the lights flicker on and off was simply a bit of electrical tampering I learned from my father. I did that to the fuse box that was in a little room off the back of the house. All it took was a penny laid in the right places to short things out. What blinded and confused them was simply very tiny firecrackers and what I blew into their faces was very strong itching powder that had just a bit of a fast acting herbal hallucinogenic that my grandmother had taught me how to make when I was a child, nothing special."

"Oh, it was definitely special. You saved all of our lives."

"We did that together. As much as I hate guns, if you, Catherine and Sara hadn't had yours, we would've still been dead."

"Still, how'd you know where Juny was, Tina?"

"That was really the easy part. Lolita called and told me. But she didn't want me to tell anyone that, especially not you or Juny. She doesn't want you looking for her and she probably won't be back, Ricky. She told me, as much as she loves all of you, she's a complication neither you or Juny or Loki needs in your lives. But, your Lola planned much of this. She knew the only way to make sure Juny would be safe was for Thatcher to be dead. She knew that had to happen before she left and made it happen. It was all planned out by her, right from the start. She got herself, Nick and Juny out of town to protect the rest of us, knowing all the while the men Thatcher had sent would come after them. She knew how Thatcher's men operated, know they had orders not to hurt anybody and ran with Juny when they closed in, was hidden and watching when they locked Nick in the trunk of his car. She handed Juny a set of Nick's car keys that she'd made when they stopped at a dollar store along the way, told him to stay hidden and only come out when it was safe, to come out to Nick, get him out and stay close to him until he could get him back to you. Then she sashayed out. Lolita stole Thatcher's men's car right from under their noses. She'd shown me once, when I locked my keys in my car, how fast she can break into any car and get it started, so I should imagine it only took Lolita less than a minute. They stole another car parked at the bed and breakfast and went after her under the erroneous assumption she had Juny with her. You can probably guess the rest. They caught up with her. Or rather I should say she allowed them to catch up with her at that motel. She finished with them there. After quite cruelly, I presume, convincing one of them to tell her where Thatcher had holed up.

"What messed up her plan was Thatcher kidnapping your son. Her original intention was to go there and kill him herself so Juny could always be safe from him, then disappear from Nevada, leaving Juny with you. But she stuck around and as one of the inquisitive spectators watching great violence uncommon to this area, pieced together from idle comments she heard from eavesdropping on dumb officials at the motel who, very fortunately, talked when they shouldn't have been, learned that a black social worker from Children Services had taken Juny away. That was when she realized Thatcher must have had him. It was unlikely a black woman would be working in a place this far from an urban area.

"That was when she contacted me, knowing we'd come to his rescue. She knew we would complete what she had started and we'd get Juny back safe."

Lifting a hand, Tina gently stroked Warrick's arm as Sara huffily but silently looked on with suspicion in her eagle eyes. "It's better this way. Lola's a star going nova, Ricky. She's crimson steel burning white hot and too wide to stay here with us. She knows what her path is and has got to follow it. Just as you've chosen yours and must also follow it. You are black gold, Warrick. You have your darkness but still possess a brilliance that flares too quickly and hastily. We are all thankful that Gil has the talent and wisdom to find the cool in you when you grow too hot the touch. As black gold, you are grounded. As with gold, your value to Gil, to Juny and to the rest of us is great. Find solace in that. Find more solace in knowing Lolita's left a portion of her crimson steel to strengthen that gold in you. It comes for us in the sweet foundation of your son. It's the most precious gift she could have possibly left you, left all of us, and we must always be grateful for that. Lolita's sacrifices will be the cause of Juny's destiny being to become a better man than he otherwise could have been with his mother. Always think of that, when you think of her."

They would've said more, but the busy paramedics indicated Warrick was in the way and he had to move. Smiling and waving at her, he stepped back as they lifted her into the ambulance then turned away to head for the one that would carry Juny to the hospital. He wavered between riding with Juny or Grissom, but, thankfully, saw Catherine climbing in with him and Sara going with Tina so went with his son, leaving Nick and Loki with the responsibility of getting their various vehicles back to their proper places.

At the hospital, with Tina resting comfortably in the emergency room and Juny released to Warrick, Gil noticed Loki coming toward him with his open cell phone in hand. Loki handed it to him, saying simply, "It's Lola."

Gil took it and asked, "Where are you?"

"I'm in a safe place, just like all of you finally are."

"How are you able to know this?"

"You know what, Dr. Grissom? Let's just say I've got my ways. I'm no psychic like Tina is, but I've got my ways."

"We've all been worried about you. You need to come back. Thatcher and his men are dead or hurt too badly and under arrest. If there're any others, I'm sure they have gone back to New York and have no further reason to bother you or Juny. Even if they haven't, which wouldn't be very smart, they'll be rounded up and have much less reason to bother you anymore. They'll be too busy trying to get their asses out of the sling they've got themselves in. So you can come home now."

"Hmm, no, that wouldn't be such a good idea. As much as I liked being with all of you, I don't belong. Warrick's too completely yours and he's the one reason I had for coming back. If he can't be mine, I can't be there. But I'm warning you, if things ever change, if you and him ever get on the outs, I will be back to take 'em from you. I really mean that. Does hearin' me say that make your pit of your stomach get all nervous and fluttery with butterflies?"

Smiling, Gil said, "No, Lolita, it doesn't. You're part of the family, just as Tina told you, and I'll fairly certain you're not into incest."

His smiled broadened as he listened to the brilliance of Lolita Avondale's joyful, tinkling, giggly, life affirming laughter, accepting that she was still be a swindling and cheating, possibly murderous and assuredly conniving bitch of a very beautiful female as she deftly switched gears and said gravely, "Dr. Grissom, believe me, what dirt and evil I'm capable of committing sometimes amazes me. Nope, I don't belong with yall. I'm way better off myself. Think I'm happier that way, too. As much I love Junebug, sometimes having to see after him was a major pain in the ass. Don't tell anybody I'm saying this, but I'm not a good Mama. I hit 'em sometimes and I shouldn't've done that. That was a bad thing, a real bad thing, Dr. Grissom. He'll do so much better with Warrick and you. You don't mind that, do you? You'll be a good second daddy for my baby, won't you?"

"Lola, honey, you have my word that I'll do my best by him."

"Promise you'll become his godfather like you did for Niki and Cat? And get all the legal papers signed so you can become his legal guardian if anything happens to Ricky. I'm out the picture now. I'm sure you adopting him shouldn't be hard to do, since the courts will see me as a deserting parent and, and all."

Hearing that painful catch in Lolita's voice, Gil felt his own heart catch. "Lolita, hear me and hear me well. Whenever you decide to come back, you'll be welcomed. This will always be your home and this will always be your family and June will always be your son. Warrick and I will see to it he's going to be raised to remember you in the very best possible light and understand why you left him with us the way you did. Whatever you do and wherever you go, remember that. Call us and call him whenever you can. We'll always be here for you."

"Thanks for saying that, Dr. Grissom," she said in a low voice. "I needed to hear and will always remember that. Is Ricky there? Can I speak to him for a minute?"

"Sure you can, but only if you call me Gil. You never have and I want to hear you say it at least once."

He could hear her smiling as she said, "Ahhhh, not a problem, Gil. Hey, do me a favor. Fantasize about me the next time you're screwing Ricky into the wall."

Gil was laughing in quiet amusement as he walked over and handed the phone to Warrick. "It's Lolita. She wants to talk to you."

Gazing at him quizzically, Warrick took the phone and said, "Hello?"

"I'm throwing you a kiss, baby. Didja get it?"

"Where are you? Thatcher's dead. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Let us come get you."

"Umm, no. That won't work. You know I can't come back, don't you? Junebug belongs there, but I don't. I wish I did, but I just don't."

Warrick leaned on the wall behind him and asked, "Why not, Lola? Why can't you belong here?"

"It's too difficult for me, man. You remember when we broke up and you told me it was because you were ready to make a change and I wasn't? Well, I'm still not. I still like the life I lead. I've got too much of my mother in me. I've got too much of my mother in me and I'm too much of a ditz like my father. I got too much of the wanderlust in me. I'm not ready to settle down and you've been doin' just that for years. You're good for Juny and I'm not. Take my baby and raise 'em right. Make sure you do that for me."

"You know I will, Lola. But listen..."

"You and Dr. Grissom make sure to tell Junebug every single day how much I love him and that I left him with his real Daddy for his own good."

"Lola..."

"Tell Loki I love him too. Thank him for trying to look out after for me all these years. Tell him I'll always be proud of 'em for what he's made of his life. And tell 'em to stop representing the big time bad guys. There're too many good people with lots of money doin' less bad things whose cases he can take. Tell 'em my one regret is I've never lived up to his expectations. That goes for you too. I'm sorry about always giving you guys such a hard time."

"Lola, wait a second...."

"Uh-uh. I can't talk to you no more. It hurts too bad. I love you too much to talk to you anymore. Let Warrick Jr. know wonderful Warrick Sr. is. Bye-bye, baby. You be good and take care. Remember the good times we had and not any of the bad ones. Love you much and always will."

The phone went dead with Warrick's mouth still open trying to find the words to convince Lolita not to hang up. For almost a minute, he did not move. Then slowly, he pulled the phone from his ear to stare at it for nearly another minute as if he could will her to be back on it. Gently, Gil took it from his hand and gave it to Loki as Lolita's brother came over to them and Catherine joined them, slipping an arm about Warrick's waist to comfortingly pat him. "Wherever she's at, wherever she gets to," she told him, "she'll do fine. I'm more apprehensive for the ones who cross her path. Lolita Avondale's nobody I would wanna mess with."

"Yeah," Loki agreed, "And knowing my sister, she'll probably pop up again when we least expect it."

"When we least expect it?" Catherine said, cocking a questioning eyebrow up at him. "Are you planning on sticking around?"

"I might," he said, giving her a grin. ""I'm kinda taken with the excellent Las Vegas scenery."

Sara loped over now to tell them, "They're about to take Tina to a bed upstairs. The doctor said she's doing pretty good but they want to keep her for an overnight observation. What're you guys talking about?"

"That was Lolita on the phone," Catherine said to her. "She's good, but said she won't be coming back this way for awhile."

Noting the distant look on Warrick's face, how Gil was talking to him in a low tone of voice and how Warrick was inclining his head toward him to listen, Sara said, very tentatively, not wishing for her dislike of Lolita to incite anyone else's negative reaction, "Is...that... what we want or... not what we want?"

Loki grinned. "From what I've been told about you, it probably is. For most of the rest of us, it's not. But Ricky, man, it's still nothing for you to be worried about. You know and I know, my little sister's nothing if not one helluva survivor. Come the holocaust, it'll be Lola and the roaches left. We'll all be dead and she'll be the start of the world's next civilization, cause if there's anything male around, she'll find 'em and rule 'em." Lightly and playfully, he slapped Warrick on a shoulder with the back of his hand as he added, "That includes the roaches."

That made Warrick grin back. Catherine liked that seeing that and gave him a squeeze, "You got that right. Besides, she's a mama and Juny's got a solid grip on her umbilical cord. All he'll have to give a good yank and she'll come spinning back this way, whether she wants to or not."

Smiling in thanks for their reassurance, Warrick turned that smile onto Gil and said, to reassure him, "She's like my sister now, Gil. That's all she is."

"No," Gil told him, squeezing the hand he had covertly taken into his own. "She's more than that. She's the mother of your son. She's tied to us forever and I accept that. Just don't let me catch her kissing you without my permission first. Only then, will there be hell to pay. Now, let's go see about Tina. It looks like they're getting ready to move her and June's having a problem with that."

As the adults came toward him, Juny held out his hands to them and said complainingly to Warrick and Gil, "Dad!! Papa!! They're trying to take Tina away from us and said I can't go where she's going!! You're not gonna let 'em get away with that, are you?"

Hearing Juny unconsciously refer to Grissom as Papa made Warrick and Gil exchange a brief glance. Without any hesitation whatever, Gil took the boy by his arm and led him to a waiting area, saying, "Come with me, June, and let me explain why you can't go with Tina. Maybe you and I can go into the gift shop if it's open or down to the cafeteria until everyone else returns."

Loki smiled as the two walked away and murmured, "One thing about being the fourth generation of a family of con artists, he's flexible. His transference's gonna be so easy for him."

Catherine asked, looking up at him, "Did you say... fourth generation?"

Loki slung a casual arm about her shoulder as he said, "I didn't tell you about my grandmother on my Dad's side of the family, did I? She's the one who first taught Mom the ins and outs of the game. Let's grab a cup of coffee while I do that. Tina doesn't need all of us going up with her. Warrick and Sara will be enough, don't cha think?"

"I certainly do. Coffee sounds real good about now. Since you managed to get my car going, how 'bout you giving me a ride to work afterward? My shift starts in a few hours from now. If you've got the car, you can run by my house, check on Lindsey and pick me up in the morning when I get off. You mind doin' that?"

"Not even a little bit," he told her very sincerely as they walked toward the emergency room exit.

Catherine grabbed Tina's toe and wriggled it as they bypassed her bed, said, "We'll see you tomorrow, lady."

Tina smiled. "Have fun."

"I plan to," was Catherine's wickedly smiling response.

A week later, the gang was back at the restaurant for breakfast, Loki having replaced Lolita, Sara competently having arrived with both twins in her arms while Tina with her arm in a sling, walked before her, ordering Warrick and Nick out to their van to bring in the baby paraphernalia then going to supervise the setting up of the tables. Once again as Lindsey and Juny took off for the buffet, the adults arranged seating for themselves and the children as Sara discovered something to complain about. Catching Catherine and Loki involved in a deep kiss under one of Lolita's invisible mistletoe, she heaved an irritated sigh and hollered, "Oh, please!! Give me a break, will you?!! Am I the only one with any moral character around here?!! Do that in private!! This is a public place!! There are children here!! So, have some respect!! Stop it!! Just stop it!! I hope your lips lock permanently!! It'd serve you right!! Juny, close your eyes right now!! Lindsey, stop giggling!! Oh, I have simply got to kill your mother, I really do."

As Sara's harangue went on, Warrick grinned and said, "Some things never change."

As Tina serenely oversaw the gathering of her little but growing tribe, she said, "Under these circumstances, I'd certainly hope not." Reaching out, she tapped Loki's hand to draw his reluctant attention away from Catherine. "I have a little something for you. There's a weariness of spirit and uncertainty in you which I so very much wish to see soon relieved."

That was when she handed him his first tea bag, making Loki Avondale an official member of the CSI family.