Title: Trip to Reaffirmation
Author: Esynnaj
Email: Vebesahshalarc@sbcglobal.com
Disclaimers: no ownership rights and no money made
Pairing: Warrick/Grissom
Rating: FRAO
Spoilers: Yes, for last show of current season and, prayerfully, yes to a whole bunch for the firstc show of next season, when I hope to see Grissom's entire team finally back together
Summary: Grissom seeks to undo the hurt he's put on Warrick.
Appreciation Proclamation: This goes to Kaelleigh for her kind permission in allowing me to post my version of how Grissom and Warrick got it together after the heartbreaking events in Trip to Disillusion, which she wrote, and why it all fell apart in the first place. She has my gratitude for her willingness to share.

TRIP TO REAFFIRMATION

Grissom was perfectly aware he had royally messed up at the Sacramento conference he and Warrick had attended together and it had not been until they were at another in Miami that he was finally able to achieve any real hope of remedying the terrible damage he had done to the man.

Although he had convinced Warrick to remain in Las Vegas rather than take the Reno job offer, which would've been a great career move, he was no longer sure how much that had to do with him. It was probably more due to Warrick electing to stick around and see Nick through the aftermath of being buried alive than his wanting to have anything to do with Grissom. It did seem that way, because Warrick had definitely been keeping his distance from Grissom after having agreed to stay on as a LVPD criminalist.

Whenever he thought back to the ISCC (International Society of Criminalists and Criminologists) conference, there were four series of separate recollections in Grissom's compartmentalized mind that disturbingly popped up, none of which had anything to do with the official reason he and Warrick had been there.

The first, of course, was their highly eventful sexual intercourse. He was too rational of a man to call it lovemaking. Upon his recovery of memories he had initially pushed into the deepest recesses of his mind, it had obtained a rarified lucidity. He'd had Warrick in every imaginable position and in every imaginable place in his hotel room, standing up, sitting down, bent over and humped upon tables. Warrick had refused him nothing. Then he had ruined everything.

In the beginning, he had been able to claim he did not even remember going into Warrick's room under the pretext of going over his presentation. But since Warrick had forced him to recall the incidents of that night, they had been constantly running through his head. Now, he remembered too well admiring Warrick's eyes and how, as soon as he had, cautious shadings had come into them. It had been Warrick, not him, who had said, when Grissom's words had become suggestive, that they should finish up and turn in, each going to his separate bed in his separate room. But it had been him, not Warrick, who had insisted the sexual encounter take place. Warrick had tried several times to convince Grissom this was something they shouldn't do but he had refused to listen, had actually manhandled Warrick into submission.

The second horror was remembering what he'd said afterward to Warrick and Grissom's very soul withered each time he recalled the horrifying accusations that, sober and in the cooler light of day, he had thrown upon Warrick's head. Warrick had tried to save him from himself, but Grissom had not allowed that. He had been the aggressively seductive one, the sexual predator, not Warrick, and it was awful, it was shameful that he had indicted Warrick for conduct he had done himself. He had come as close to referring to him as a rapist as it was possible to do without outright accusing him of the crime. Rather than admit to himself doctored drinks had loosened him so much he had let another person get close to him, he had sought to blame the victim.

Thirdly, there was the memory of the mottled mess he had made of Warrick's body. Until his dying day, he'd never forget seeing the bruises, scrapes and scratches that had been on Warrick's upper body. One day, after they had gotten back to Las Vegas, Grissom had been sitting at his desk studying evidence from a difficult case when a recovered memory from the conference had struck him so suddenly and vividly that he had stopped breathing.

Filling his mind as if it had been currently happening, he had seen himself guiding Warrick to a low, circular the a table in his hotel room then ordering him to sit on it and slide forward while grasping his own thighs behind his knees and resting his feet on the table with his legs wide spread wide. Then Grissom had rammed into him without any preparation, shoved him onto his back and elbows to begin violently thrusting while cruelly digging his fingernails into Warrick's hips until he had drawn blood. Those wounds had to have been among the ones on Warrick's lower body that he had not been shown.

Hard on the heels of that imagery had come another was of standing in the bathtub with shower water running over them while pinching and twisting Warrick's nipples until they bled, the red joining the water to flow in rivulets down Warrick's chest. Hardly conscious of what he had been about, Grissom had been voluptuously enthralled by the flickering waves of agony that had darted across Warrick's emerald gaze. Grissom honestly could not remember all he had done to so badly injure Warrick, but had to acknowledge having attached no reservation or reluctance to having used him in any and every manner striking his fancy. That Warrick had let him do those things to him then been subjected to Grissom's invalid verbal acidity made an awful situation all the worse.

The fourth, final and worst memory had been watching an angry and heart sick Warrick climb from the broken down Denali to walk away from him through the shimmering heat of an empty, desert road while they had been leaving Sacramento and driving back to Las Vegas. He had never thought seeing someone's back shrink as it retreated into the distance could be so devastating. And that memory was, as yet, unresolved and seemed to have no ending, for Warrick despised him and was still, figuratively if not literally, walking away from him.

That day while they had been on the road waiting for a tow truck, Warrick had left after Grissom had self-righteously hammered at him to admit doing what he had not. However, he had only succeeded in forcing Warrick to hotly deny any wrongdoing and bring everything that had really occurred out for Grissom into blinding clarity. That had been quite enough to convince Grissom that Warrick had done no wrong. Grissom had been responsible for any wrongdoing. He was the one who had taken advantage. He was the supervisor who had placed a less senior person under his authority in a disadvantageous and compromising position. Warrick was the one whose body had been ferociously invaded and mutilated. Grissom cringed upon recalling he had actually threatened to potentially press charges against Warrick when it was Warrick who could positively press charges against him.

But Warrick hadn't. Grissom doubted if doing such a thing had or ever could occur to Warrick as it had to him. Warrick wasn't built that way. During these weeks since the conference, Warrick had simply taken to doing his job as efficiently as ever and avoiding Grissom whenever he could, becoming remote and self-contained in his presence.

Since Ecklie had finally given in and let his regular CSI team rejoin, much to his satisfaction, Grissom had Warrick, along with Catherine and Nick, back on midnights. That could have been great if he had not ruined a longstanding friendship, not to mention possibly destroying any opportunity for a wonderful and warm more personal relationship. As it was, Warrick had quietly reverted to only an employment basis with him as a CSI III and Grissom as his supervisor but nothing else. In fact, they were just barely co-workers. If anyone suggested going out to eat after work and the invitation included Grissom, Warrick always begged off without giving any reason. But the others knew him and Warrick well enough to be conscious something negative was going on between them and be curious as to what it was.

The only visible result of the evening when he had gone to Warrick's to admit how wrong he had been, hoping to resolve matters, had been Warrick saying he'd remain in Las Vegas. That evening, as he had held Warrick after he had broken down and cried, Grissom had prayed it would lead to reconciliation, a healing between them. It had not. In order to protect himself from further damage, Warrick had shown he was quite as capable of an emotional detachment similar to that for which Grissom was famed.

The upshot of this was the more and more Warrick had drawn away from him, the more and more desirable he had become to Grissom. In this case, the adage absence had made the heart grow fonder was certainly true, although that absence was emotional rather than physical. Grissom had lost an important metaphysical link to Warrick he hadn't even realized he had.

Presently, Warrick was always somber and businesslike in his supervisor's presence and Grissom missed the quicksilver nature of the man, his laughter, his intensity and volatility, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, so often could not contain a rapid fire temperament or deeply felt despondencies. Grissom knew these qualities of Warrick's were still a vibrant and flamboyant part of his personality, but they were no longer available for his perusal on any level. That privilege had been lost to him and Grissom was determined to get it back, whether or not Warrick was willing to give it back.

Neither he or Warrick had told anyone what had gone on at the Sacramento conference, but those closest to both at CSI knew something must have occurred because their behavior toward each other had become too off key and a tad too formal. Both Catherine and Nick had been querying Warrick about what was going on between them and Catherine had been questioning Grissom as Nick didn't have the nerve to approach him about such a personal matter. Grissom knew he had to get things settled with Warrick for the sake of his rejoined shift's stability, for the sake of his own peace of mind and for the possible sake of Warrick's sanity, for younger man's depression was not lifting. He'd been putting himself through so much stress, a visible loss of weight he could not afford was apparent on his lean, lithe frame.

Not quite sure how he was going to go about the regaining of Warrick's good graces, Grissom had discovered Warrick was not about to let himself be trapped into a face-to-face confrontation. He had, thus far, managed to duck every attempt Grissom had made to catch him for a private talk. So Grissom resulted to a more devious method. Upon coming to work one day and checking his box, Warrick found a memo saying Grissom had selected him to attend a conference in Miami being held by the National Forensics Society. It was a conference at which it had been previously made known Grissom would be making a presentation. With his eyebrows drawn together to form a thundercloud of his glittering green eyes, he had gone storming into Grissom's office and, waving the packet of papers, had roared, "Grissom, what the fuck is this?!!!"

Grissom had glanced up at him, glanced at the papers in Warrick's hand then looked back down at what he had been doing as if that was vitally important and had to be done immediately, which it did not. "I'll be needing an assistant while I'm in Florida and I've chosen you for that duty."

"I'm not going anywhere where I haveta be alone with you, not ever again!!"

"Yes, you are."

Warrick slammed his hands down on Grissom's desk hard enough for it to shake, briefly startling the older man and making him jump. "Grissom, I'm not going!!!"

Keeping his composure as always, Grissom told him, "As I said, yes you are. If you like your job and want to keep it, yes you are."

"What, are you trying to blackmail me into going by threatening to fire me if I don't?"

Grissom coolly told him. "Of course not, Warrick. I'm simply doing what's in your best interests. Attending these conferences is a simple means for a career CSI to earn credits toward their educational upgrades, which is a job requirement. This is your last opportunity to go to another this year. Think of it as a necessary fulfillment for any promotion you might hope to obtain in the future. I'd seriously advise you not to refuse it."

When Warrick did not move but remained hovering over Grissom, breathing furiously, sounding as if he was about to choke on his anger, Grissom finally looked up at him. "Let me make this easier for you, Warrick. You are going. That is what I've decided. And my decision is not up for discussion. Please regard the subject as closed and taken out of your hands."

Grissom went back to work and was heartily relieved that Warrick finally spun on his heel to stalk out just as angrily as he had arrived. Sighing, Grissom pushed the books and files he had been looking at away to squeeze the bridge of his nose, which did nothing to ease the massive headache that had started as soon as he had heard Warrick and Sara's voices drifting by as they had walked past his office upon arrival for their shift.

Generally, he was glad if it was Sara that Warrick was talking to, for she was the only one of the other three investigators on his team Grissom didn't have to be concerned about being around Warrick. The relationship between Sara and Warrick had become tumultuous and tenuous soon after she had joined the Las Vegas CSI team and been assigned by Grissom to investigate Warrick for possible casino gambling on a requested personal leave when he should have been at work. Sara had stubbornly refused to back down from her insistence that Warrick be disciplined until learning he'd been at the casino for a different reason altogether. Even then, she had given rationalizations for her actions rather than apologize for preferring to believe the worst of Warrick. In return, he had never quite forgiven or forgotten she had not come to him and asked directly what he had been doing at the casino. Instead, she had snuck around behind his back to verify his presence there without ever trying to discover what his true purpose had been. That incident had laid the framework of a mutual dislike.

Therefore, she and he were just beginning to come to a state of being able to stand each other. Many, with a leer and a snigger, put that down to her infatuation with Grissom and a resultant jealousy of Warrick being, as Grissom had refused to deny when Sara had demandingly questioned him, his favorite CSI. Grissom newly suspected it was also due to Sara's intuition informing her of Grissom's love for Warrick that had been long unstated and Warrick's love for Grissom that had been long hidden until Grissom had broken it wide and torn it to pieces. But since Grissom did not care for Sara romantically and Warrick care for her not at all, she did not really worry Grissom. It was Nick and Catherine who did.

Warrick and Catherine had a streetwise way of thinking that provided for an understanding between them. Their acceptance of each other was greater than between any other pair of CSIs. In addition, the sparkle of sexual tension between them was almost visible and its crackle almost audible. Both were excessively flirtatious and their sensuous enjoyment of each other's passionate nature was obvious to all. Many had no doubt whatsoever they were having sex on the side. The grapevine had it that they had been seen more than once slipping away for an on-the-job quickie, which added the exciting fillip of possible discovery to their easy-going liaison.

The empathic connection Warrick had established with Nick was of even more concern because of the gravity attached to it. As a younger child in a large, bustling family, he'd been spoiled, which had resulted in Nick reacting to personal distress in an appealingly vulnerable manner that invited others to over protect him as his parents and siblings had. But Nick, as a CSI, had been dealt a bad hand several times too often.

He'd had a murderous wife shockingly shove a gun in his face, which had caused him to be brought near to tears after Grissom had drawn his own weapon to talk her down and rescue him from her. Awhile later, he'd had a crazy man named Crane become infatuated with him to the point of imagining he had a bond with him that did not exist. Crane had twice attacked him, leaving him so distraught, Warrick had moved in with him to aid his recovery from the physical injuries and emotional distress.

Then Warrick had moved in with Nick again after a second fanatic, this one grieving over his daughter's imprisonment, had nearly killed Nick by entombing him in an underground fiber glass vault that had cracked, admitting fire ants which had added to his claustrophobic torment before the CSI team had located and freed him. This time, Warrick was showing no sign of leaving Nick. Indeed, Warrick had slowly been moving more and more of his belongings from his place to Nick's while Nick seemed to be increasingly and constantly needing his immediate presence.

On one occasion at the end of the midnight shift when the building had been mostly deserted, Grissom had been walking by when he had heard strange, frantic muffled noises coming from the locker room. Upon his entry, he had sniffed a heated, funky odor as Warrick had walked from between a row of lockers, glancing back while adjusting his clothing. Coming over to block Grissom's path, strangely, since he had been avoiding talking to Grissom, he had begun a casual conversation about nothing much. A few moments later, Nick had stepped out from the same row of locker, barefoot and in just jeans, slipping a shirt over his head, looking flushed and unusually happy. That had been when Grissom had first realized Warrick and Nick had become more than just best friends and he'd better do something quick or lose Warrick altogether.

Fading back into detached mode after the outburst when he had protested going, Warrick hadn't put forth any more arguments about accompanying him to Miami. Called into Grissom's office a few days later, he'd respectfully and patiently listened the travel arrangements and what Grissom expected him to do to assist with his presentation after they were there. When Catherine had driven them to the airport, Grissom had ached for Warrick to be as relaxed and friendly with him as he was with her, but had realized that was still too much to yet ask of Warrick. On the flight out to Florida, Warrick had maintained the formality of that distance, sitting next to Grissom but pointedly wearing his headphones to forestall any attempts at conversation. Playing jazz on them during the entire trip while idly flipping through a multitude of magazines, no matter how boring, he had pointedly ignored Grissom as much as possible.

It was not until they had landed and after they had registered for the conference at their hotel that Grissom, as Warrick interacted with fellow attendees known to him through previous work and other associations, had seen renewed signs of his engaging personality. Otherwise, in Grissom's presence, Warrick had become completely businesslike, offering nothing more.

It was a three-day conference and Grissom's presentation was scheduled for the third day, which meant they had to find something to do with themselves for the first two days. Much to Warrick's incredulous exasperation, Grissom, claiming the sheriff department was on a budget-tightening streak, had booked them into a double room together. Mostly in silence, they had chosen their beds, hung up their clothes, set out their personal items in the bathroom and put away their luggage. Then, as soon as Grissom had left to check out the small auditorium where he would be presenting, Warrick had stomped about all alone, flinging his arms about and muttering to the empty room to get his frustration out about the fix in which he had, once again, found himself.

For the next couple of days, Warrick shunned Grissom whenever he could, attending only those workshops he was fairly certain with which Grissom had no interest. Whenever Grissom entered their room, almost immediately, he left and seldom returned unless he was sure Grissom had gone elsewhere. Neither of the first two nights did he sleep there, returning the day after the first night smelling of expensive feminine perfume and smelling of expensive masculine cologne not his own the morning after their second night. Grissom, his sense of smell incrementally increased during the time of his loss of hearing, had enviously and sadly caught the lingering scents of Warrick's restless sexual adventuring with unknowns on the nighttime streets of Miami each time before he had taken showers to wash them away.

On the morning of Grissom's presentation, Warrick had gone down early to supervise the final set up of the equipment Grissom would be using. The afternoon before, he had gone over the main points of Grissom's lecture with him, both recalling how a similar occasion in Sacramento had ended up but neither making any reference to it. Upon reaching the last third of his discourse, Grissom had decided he was tired and wanted to quit without continuing to the finish. He had not let Warrick neither hear nor read it to the end. Warrick had been curious as to why not, but he'd had no inclination to inquire about the reason as to that. Instead, he had just done whatever Grissom told him to do in regards to his duties as an aide. He was behaving like the consummate professional on the job, but had been passing the time and getting his vexation out by having sex with absolute strangers.

During Grissom's presentation, Warrick had been seated near the center of the room, clicking over his Microsoft PowerPoint slides, scenes, charts and graphs in a timely manner for him. Only listening with half an ear, he had suddenly perked up upon hearing Grissom mention the negative scenarios possible if forensic evidence was not properly maintained in a sterile environment and contaminated, corrupted, misidentified, improperly catalogued, incomplete, mishandled or misrepresented. Grissom's expounding on how incorrect hypotheses or conclusions based on such misinformation could lead to a guilty suspect being freed or an innocent one being wrongly convicted had tightened the knot Warrick had been miserably carrying around in his chest. Grissom had refused to let him hear this portion of the presentation the previous afternoon. As Warrick had listened, he had become suddenly fearful about what he was hearing.

When Grissom had progressed into an antidotal reminiscing of an occasion when he had let his own personal agenda and partial knowledge of the evidence lead him into condemning an innocent man, his words had begun to sound terribly familiar. They had taken on the declaratory feel of his relating a powerfully personal experience. The more he had heard, the more Warrick had been certain the parable had everything to do with the Sacramento conference and he had become equally certain he wouldn't be able to stand that.

Suffering from an uncontrollable sense of suffocation, Warrick had found himself on his feet and moving forward without thinking about what he meant to do. Striding from his seat to the front of the room, he had grabbed Grissom's arm before he could flip to the next page of his notes and said, "Gris, your cell must be turned off. A call's come in for you on mine. It's important and you have to take it right now."

Startled, Grissom said, "Warrick, it'll have to wait until I…"

"It can't wait. You've got to take it now."

Much to Grissom's, everyone else's and his own astonishment, Warrick had dragged Grissom away from the podium and onto the glassed in walkway outside the conference room, barely giving Grissom time to excuse himself. Once there, he had released Grissom, stalked a distance away, put his back to a wall and crossed his arms over his chest so tightly, it looked as if that was the only way he could keep himself from falling apart.

When Grissom asked quietly, "There was no call, was there?" Warrick could not speak, but only violently shake his head, staring at the ceiling in exasperation as if he could find the answers to his own strange behavior there. Grissom held his breath a moment then slowly let it out. Going as near Warrick as he dared, he inquired, "Can you… tell me what this is about, Warrick?"

"Don't know," Warrick mumbled, jerking his head down to stare out at a twinkling, early evening city skyline. "All I know is I couldn't let you do what you were fixin' to do."

"What is it you thought I was… fixing to do?"

"Tell how easy it is to fuck shit up when you think you've got all the evidence in but don't, then give an example of when you made a mistake that almost ruined somebody else's life."

"What mistake are you referring to?"

"Don't be crackin' wise on me, Grissom, I'm not in the muthafuckin' mood, man. You know what I'm talkin' about."

Grissom had to smile a little. "I'm sorry. You're right. I do know the specific incident and mistake you're referring to. I would've changed some of the facts and not used our names, but yes, I was going to use that to show how anyone, including myself, a dedicated scientist, can believe one has objectively examined the evidence, come to what is assumed to be a correct hypothesis, but still jump to a conclusion that is totally wrong."

Grissom took a couple steps closer to gently touch Warrick's arm and it tore at him to feel how desperately the younger man was trying to keep from visibly trembling. "Warrick, wait here. Please do that for me. I'll be right back. Everyone's likely waiting for me to come back. I've got to make my apologies so they can leave. I'm begging you not to do the same."

Grissom hurried back to the workshop to inform the attendees he had to respond to an emergency call and would have to reschedule his presentation while distractedly hoping Warrick wouldn't do a disappearing act on him. While talking, he was squeezing the podium hard and kept glancing toward where he had left Warrick, wishing the wall dividing them was invisible so he could see if he had stayed or not. He was monumentally relieved upon his return to find Warrick still there, had slid down the wall as if he had become too exhausted to remain on his feet. He was sitting on the floor with his knees upraised, his arms resting on them with both hands and head limply hanging down like he was unable to lift them. Every line of his lengthy frame looked heartbroken and dejected. Grissom's own heart twisted and lurched to see that.

He went to his knees next to him and would have touched him if he hadn't seen the now familiar flinch he got whenever he attempted to get close to Warrick. So, he merely laid his hands on his thighs and said quietly, "For the past few weeks, I've been trying so hard to get you into a place, mentally and physically, where I could talk to you about this. You haven't let me and I certainly don't blame you for that. If I'd been in your shoes, I would've done the same thing. But… can we… now? You wouldn't've done what you did back there if you weren't starting to feel less antagonistic toward me."

"I was never antagonistic toward you, Grissom," Warrick growled, bridling suddenly as was his habit. "You started this shit, not me. Any antagonism that's come up between us has always been on your part, not mine."

Grissom was silent for a moment, not about to make any denial of that comment. Every cruel accusation that had been made, he had made them. Anything Warrick had said had always been the truth. Any forthcoming forgiveness had to be Warrick's to give, "I acknowledge that. I only ask now that you allow a dialogue to begin and stop avoiding me." He touched Warrick's arm very lightly and very briefly as he asked, "Can we go up to the room and do that?"

At that suggestion, Warrick negatively and aggressively shook his head, rose up on the palms of his hands and stretched out a leg as if he meant to get up and run. But Grissom automatically caught his arm to prevent his escape. Seeming as if he had been goaded beyond reason by merely coming into contact with Grissom, Warrick's eyes instantly rounded on him, green highlights in them furiously sparking. But Grissom had had enough.

Suddenly as angry as Warrick, he snapped in his best managerial voice, using the tone Warrick had come to instinctively react to it as an employee with less seniority to a highly respected and authoritarian supervisor, "Warrick, we've both had enough of this, especially you. You're getting sick, actually losing weight, with all the pressure you've been piling on yourself because of an issue you've got to let go of, not for my benefit, but yours. I've admitted to the terrible wrong I've done you over and over again. I will spend my life seeking absolution from you as often as you wish if that's what you want. I mean to do that as many times as necessary until I have your forgiveness, realizing that can't and won't be any time soon. But, it's time for you to start listening to me, really… really… listen. I know how much I owe you. I know I've got a lot to pay for. But I can't possibly begin to do that until you talk to me. Or at least until you sit down and let me talk to you. Now. If you refuse to go upstairs with me; and I can completely understand that; what we're going to do is go into the lounge in the lobby and have that talk. Can we at least do that?"

The strategy worked. Grissom had not used that preemptory administrative timbre with Warrick since the ISCC conference and the ultimate result of its unexpectedness had the heated anger in Warrick's eyes irresistibly fading. Gazing at Grissom in surprise, for the first time in almost two months, Warrick felt a reconnection to the man he had known and loved for years rather than the unfamiliar one who'd so unfairly and incredulously railed at him that unbearable morning after their marvelous night during the conference.

"Yeah," Warrick whispered.

Upon hearing the affirmative answer and seeing the budding signs of Warrick's weakening in the face of Grissom's determination, Grissom wilted slightly and had to firmly resolve not to waver anymore than that. Just as sometimes you had to look at the evidence with new eyes in order to reconcile it with the facts, he recognized it had taken a change in methodology to get through to Warrick. It was his enduring patience and customary dominance that had worn Warrick down and won him over, not explanations, apologies or pleas for exoneration. He'd have to remember that in the future relationship he hoped to rebuild and reestablish with Warrick.

He stood up to grip Warrick's arm and pull him to his feet, ignoring the shying away, smiled with ease in light of the still cautious expression on Warrick's face as he said, "Come on. Let's go have a little conversation and a drink or two. It's on me."

Grissom led Warrick to the most private booth he could find in the lounge and sat down across from him, watching Warrick slide all the way in to put his back against the high wooden side of the booth, stretch his long legs out on the seat and wearily close his eyes as he rested his head. Grissom went to the bar and ordered their drinks, placed one in front of Warrick and another before himself.

Warrick opened his eyes long enough to reach for his, pick it up and begin to sip on it in silence. Grissom watched him awhile before asked gravely, "Warrick, do you still love me?"

The question so surprised Warrick, it forced laughter from him and choke on his drink. That set him sputtering and laughing even harder. He held the glass up and away from himself as liquid dribbled down his chin and onto his clothes. While wiping it away with a napkin, he glanced over Grissom with a return of the old twinkle in his eyes. "Damn, Gil. Don't go askin' a man something like that out the blue when he's got a full glass up to his mouth. Shit."

Warrick's reaction was not what Grissom had expected but it remarkably warmed him. Warrick had not familiarly called him Gil in weeks and hearing his name said in those dark, sensual, liquid tones went straight to his groin and caused such a heated physical reaction, he was glad for the concealment of the table, so Warrick and no one else could see his sudden erection. Smiling, he repeated his question, "I still want an answer. Do you still love me?"

For a time, Warrick concentrated on drying himself off and not answering. Then, still without looking at Grissom, he finally said in a low and reluctant voice that still had an edgy humor to it, "Yeah, I do. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here with your crazy ass. I'd be the hell and gone from Vegas and working a way better job in Reno."

"Thank you for sharing that. You're much the better man than I, because I realize how difficult it must've been for you to tell me that. I could never have admitted it, if I were you, particularly in consideration of certain past events well known to both of us. Also in light of the fact I've yet to say I love you." Grissom abruptly tilted his head in that curiously and charmingly innocent manner he had and asked, "You already know that I do, don't you? Love you, that is?"

"Grissom, I don't know anything about how you feel about me in any kinda way. I used to think I might and was waiting for to you get clear to how you felt, but then…" Warrick just shrugged, aware he didn't have to complete the sentence.

"Yes, I know there's an unpleasant point we have to work from. I'm just glad you're willing to allow that point of reference to exist." Grissom gave a deep sigh then said, "While I've been trying to resume a personal connection with you, I've also been doing a lot of thinking about us, more than I've ever done about anyone. It's thinking I should've been doing years before now and wouldn't allow myself to do." Grissom gave him the smallest, sweetest smile. "So, let me be as honest with you as I can. From the first moment that I first saw you, I wanted you, Ricky. I was positive of that. You were, in every possible way, above any man or woman I've ever known, the one person I wanted in my life forever. But, from the very beginning, I've refused to admit to myself that I had any ulterior motives for inviting you to join CSI."

The smile widened even as it became slightly sadder. "Know what? You're not only the kind of person I've wanted in my life all my life. You are exactly the kind of man I need to have in my life. I arrived at that conclusion in college as soon as my sexual orientation became obvious to me. That was when I fell in love with a fellow student very much like you in appearance. Unfortunately, while he was nearly as charismatic as you are, he had too many other unpleasant personality traits to equalize that charisma, which is not the case with you."

Warrick grinned. "You did that? You fell in love with somebody like me?"

"If you're trying to find out in that roundabout way if, even back in the olden days of my youth, the man I fell in love with was black, yes I did and yes he was," Grissom said. "But that's a story I'm not ready to tell just yet. What I'm trying to say is, from the second I laid eyes on you, it was a case of love at first sight and I knew I had to find some way to keep you around. Since I wasn't courageous enough to pursue you as a lover, I decided to pursue you as an employee."

He took another deep breath. "Oh, it has been… perfection, seeing you every day, even when you were involved in relationships with other people. You have no idea how often I fantasized it was me with you. I'd get the most vicarious thrill from my voyeuristic observations of your various flirtations, wishing you and I were engaging in them together." Leaning over the table toward him, Grissom said, "Warrick, for years now, you've filled my dreams, day and night. Even before Sacramento, because I'd made love to you so much in my imagination, I felt I knew every inch of your body. You could say that I really did. I used to find excuses that the beginning or end of a shift to come down to the locker room to discuss cases with you. The entire time, I'd be watching you change while desperately praying you never realized what I was doing."

Warrick shook his head in wonderment. "I didn't, not at all. I never realized."

"That wasn't all you haven't realized. After Sacramento, when you got the Reno job offer, you don't know how afraid I became that I had lost the best thing I'd ever had going for me, which was you. It wasn't until you agreed to stay but kept pulling away from me that I finally grasp I was still losing you. After idiot Ecklie broke up my team and I had to stand by and watch while you got close to others romantically, specifically Nick and Catherine, you have no idea how badly that affected me. It made me feel inconceivably despondent and off-kilter. For the first time ever, I began to understand why there are those who truly seem to love life suffer from and often do not survive suicidal impulses when they're confronted by an extreme loss. Several times, I wished to die solely because of your decision to continuously avoid me on the job, much less have anything personal to do with me."

Staring at him, Warrick whispered, "God, Gris, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. It was nothing I could tell you or anyone else about until now. Please don't think suicide was anything I ever seriously contemplated. I just began to understand others' contemplation of it under similar circumstances." Grissom reached out to touch Warrick's hand, achingly pleased when he made an effort not to flinch away. "You're that important to me, Ricky. I'm aware losing you would be the death of me. I wouldn't have to kill myself. Not having you around would be enough to do that for me."

Warrick was silent awhile, at a momentary loss on how to respond to Grissom's revelation. Then he finally sighed and said, "Grissom, man, you make the shit hard. You'd spent years keeping all of yourself away from me and I got used to that. Then we get a little bit close and you verbally rip me a new asshole in order to back away from what was happening. Now you put it out how you did a bout of suicidal thinkin' over almost losing me when it your own words that drove me away. You're as confusing as hell. I can't get my bearings with you. What you just said… I can't process just yet. It's messing with me too much for me to feel like talking about it and I'd rather not do it right now, all right?"

"Of course. I completely understand. We can talk about anything else you want, as long as we are talking. That's all I ask of you."

Glad of that, Warrick was smiling as he redirected the conversation to, "So, you thought me and Catherine had something going, huh?"

Grissom went with the shift. "Did you. Or, do you?"

Warrick cocked his head. "Not really. But we've both been through a lot of shit that we could only talk about to the other and know the other one wouldn't come off like some armchair referee. We've come to this special arrangement. Catherine's one helluva sexy, strong willed woman, just like I like 'em. We've got mutual desires that often need a friendly, nonexclusive, nonjudgmental outlet. We take care of that for each other sometimes. But it's no more'n that and we've discussed how we'll cut it out as soon as either of us gets into anything serious with anybody else. It's been mainly about sex, so it's no big thing."

"Then there's no love between the two of you?"

"There's a hell of a lot of love, but not the kind you're talking about. We're friends that fuck, her words, not mine. It's the way she wants it. Leaving it that way hasn't much bothered me and I don't think letting go of it would much bother her."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Going up against Catherine has always been difficult for me. I wasn't looking forward to a battle with her over you. That would've be a war I'm not sure I could have won." After admitting that, Grissom kept his eyes on his glass, running a finger around its rim as he curiously inquired, "I know what I'm about to ask is none of my business, anymore than questioning about Catherine was, but I like to be sure of myself. Is anything important going on between you and Nick that I should know about?"

Eyes steady on him, Warrick asked, "Will what I say make a difference?"

Grissom lifted his head. "Only to the smallest degree. You got Nick on his feet after the Crane incident and you've done it again after Gordon's vicious vindictiveness. But after Crane, he didn't react to you as he does now. You became close friends after that, but that doesn't seem to be all there is to your relationship now. Nick's eyes follow you all the time. He's visibly disappointed if you and he aren't assigned together. Whenever he finishes up and returns to the office before you, he on pins and needles while waiting for you to come back. He'll be prowling the halls like a junkie dying for a fix. If you're in first, he rushes around looking for you and can't settle down to do or think about much of anything else until he finds you. I'd like to be clear on whether there's a personal reason for all of that."

"You said what I say will only make a difference to the smallest degree. Why?"

"For two reasons. All of us wanted Nick back on an even keel and you've been the one best able to get him there. He doesn't need a father, mother or protector. He needs a friend and you're the one he's let in, physically and emotionally. I wouldn't interfere with that for anything in the world, not if that's the requirement for him to regain stability. Secondly, in consideration of what went on between us in Sacramento and how I wrecked it, I don't have the right to presume I can place any limitations on anything you've been doing since then, especially if it's been helpful to Nick. And I gather that it was."

Warrick sighed. "It was. He said he had this… emptiness inside. He needed to fill it and only I could help him do that. I'd been feelin' empty myself, so I guess we've been helping fill each other up. He couldn't be alone and I didn't want to be alone. It worked out that we got together at the right time and served each other's purpose. While there's no big love thing going on with us, we are good friends who do more than fuck. He still needs me and I'd never point blank stop with him. Can't drop him back down that black hole he's literally just climbing out of one only cause you've decided to try and get things to back to normal with us."

"I don't expect you to do that to him and wouldn't respect you if you did. I simply want to clear the air on what's going on between you two. Why I said it'd make a difference only to the smallest degree is we can put that on hold while we deal with what's going on between you and I. When we're back in Las Vegas, I guess I'll have to be the one to step back and breathe through whatever happens then. But now, all I want is to get in the running." Grissom smiled. "I'm merely attempting, I suppose, to get a picture on what my most serious competition looks like."

"Nick's not competition. He's my best friend and always will be. Sorry Gris, but for the time being, whatever he needs from me and whenever he needs it, he's got to get."

"Which is why I realize Nick's my biggest rival for your affections. You'd never leave him or anyone else in a lurch. One thing I've always known about you, you don't have and have never had the capacity to turn your back on a friend, no matter what they've done. If that were the case, you wouldn't've stopped me from revealing the happenstance of the worst mistake in my life. I know what Nick means to you. I'm prepared to deal with the possibility of fighting it out with him for you and wouldn't blame you, if I have to do that."

"It's not like that, though. All I'm saying is I can't go back to Nicky and all of a sudden say to him, man, I've got to move out cause me and Gris have got together. Maybe if things had turned out different with you and me, I could say different. But they didn't, so I can't."

"I'm not asking you to say different. I've only asked you to take the first step to reconnect with me and you have. I'm grateful you've been as honest with me as you have. Now. We're done with any discussion of the past for a while." Grissom reached across the table to touch Warrick's hand that was wrapped around his glass and was gratified when he did not recoil this time. "Let's talk about our possible future, if you don't mind."

They talked and drank enough hours for Grissom to finally wear down Warrick's disinclination about going up to the room. With both of them pleasantly buzzed this time, falling lustfully all over each other as soon as the door was closed and locked was a given. Grissom was the dominant force, as before, with Warrick consciously and contentedly submissive, despite that not being his usual nature. He let Grissom do whatever he pleased simply because he respected and loved the man that much. He was willing to forgive him anything.

Almost.

However, in the light of day, Warrick awakened with the icy chills of deja vu riding up and down his spine. Grissom was sitting up and staring at him with the same look of horror and disbelief that had been on his face the morning after in Sacramento. But this time, as soon as Warrick's eyes opened, rather than cold-bloodedly ripping him apart with words, Grissom scrambled from the bed to run for the bathroom where he immediately and vehemently vomited up the remnants of the expensive dinner they had ordered up to the room and so much enjoyed together. Feeling numb, Warrick fell back on the bed, closing his eyes, recognizing deep inside that he could not continue to go through the emotional turmoil he had endured the previous two months.

But even as he was formulating that idea in his head, Grissom came wobbling back to drop onto his knees by the side of his bed, grab feverishly at his hand as he said hoarsely and sternly, "Whatever you've thinking, stop it. This has nothing to do with you. It's all me. I…"

Before he could complete his sentence, nausea rose, forcing Grissom to stagger up and race back into the bathroom. Listening to him gagging, Warrick leaned up on his elbows, wondering what more Grissom had meant to say to him. Then he got up and went where Grissom was kneeling with his head hanging over the toilet bowl as he heaved his guts out, having nothing left to throw up except thin, nasty tasting bile.

Recognizing this as a physical reaction to an intense emotional upset, Warrick dampened a washcloth and knelt by him, patiently waited until he finished and rested his head on his arm, panting exhaustedly. Then he slid a hand under Grissom's chin to lift his head and very tenderly wipe his face and mouth with the warm cloth, smiling but saying nothing as he did so.

Anxiously staring up into solemn green eyes, Grissom clutched Warrick's wrist as he gasped, "Warrick, I'm so sorry, so very, very sorry, but you've got let me explain. You've got to listen and understand. This is unintentional. I didn't want this. I don't want this. I tried and tried not to do it. I sat there looking at you and loving you for what seemed like hours fighting this, but I couldn't help it. But this is better, Warrick. It's better than what happened before."

"Yeah?" said Warrick, speaking quietly with guarded humor, "So waking up next to me in the morning made you sick to your stomach this time instead of making you think I'd raped you, huh? Man, Gris, I don't know if that's an improvement or not."

"It is, believe me it is." Grissom slid his hands up Warrick's arms, holding on as if he feared Warrick was about to walk down some hot, deserted road again and be gone forever this time. "Before you, there'd been only one other occasion in my entire life when I woke up with another person who'd been in bed with me the night before. I loved him nearly as much as I love you. But, I couldn't stand him the next morning. That time was also after I had drunk too much. He'd been the one who forced the alcohol on me, Warrick. I've never been a big drinker, but tried to become one for him. He'd he told me that, if I loved him, I'd drink with him, drink whatever he gave me. I did because I loved him so much and wanted so badly to please him.

"But, he did me wrong, Warrick. After I was drunk, our time together turned into a date rape. That badly hurt me, but he had captivated me, just as you have. When he begged me to forgive him, I did. But the very next time we got together, this man who had said he loved me did me even worse. Then, he let the surety of another date rape, which would've been terrible enough, turn into a gang rape."

Hearing that, Warrick suddenly sat back hard on his heels, eyes widening then squinting as he stared at Grissom, demanding sharply, "What? What'd you say?"

Grissom gave a quivering sigh, then the words rushed out. "I was a sophomore in college and he was a senior on the football team, a wide receiver built tall and strong like you, one of the most popular guys on campus in one of most popular fraternities. I was tutoring him in biology. I was so young, so young and stupid. I decisively believed I understood everything about my sexuality, myself and about him. I know now he was shallow and selfish, but I could only see then that he was handsome, charming and popular. He was interested in me for undetermined and unfathomable reasons and I never thought to question that. I was too much in love to question anything he did. I'd never had anal sex before and didn't want to, but was willing to do anything he asked of me. So, he was my first but didn't care if the sex was good for me, which it never was, only that it was good for him.

"Then came the night he got me drunk or possibly drugged me in order to do unwanted things to me when I couldn't defend myself. The most awful thing about it was, later on, a few months later, he got me drunk and let a few of his fraternity brothers and some other good buddies from the football team use me too. It was your classic gangbang, Warrick. In the morning, I woke up with a ferocious headache and him shaking me. He was telling me I had to get out of his room. He had to get ready for practice. I was aching all over. Blood was oozing from my rectum and I could feel how I was all torn up inside. I had internal injuries, Warrick, and he was LAUGHING at me. He didn't care about me at all. He just wanted me gone. With daylight and everybody sober, he was embarrassed to have me there.

"Feeling lower than dirt, I gathered my clothes and got out as quickly as I could. Some of his those who had, unbeknownst to me, taken part in the gangbang, were lying about his room. I felt their eyes on me, saw them sneak peeks at me, knew deep in my heart their body fluids were still inside me. I heard them snickering when I left. Oh Ricky, it was the worst experience of my life and I swore I'd never let anything like that happen to me again."

Grissom was clinging to Warrick like he was a life preserver and staring at the opposite wall but not really seeing it as he recalled the agonizing event. He whispered, "You're the first person I'm ever telling about it. I never told the police or my parents or anyone. I could barely walk when I left there, but I never went to anywhere to get checked out. I was so embarrassed and so stupid then. I didn't even know a man could be raped and was too humiliated to let anybody know it had happened to me. I just eased around until I'd healed up then went on like nothing had happened. If you can believe this, my self-esteem was so low that I kept tutoring him. Although I never took a drink from him, I did let him talk me into having sex twice more before he graduated. That was just because it felt so good to be desired by a guy everybody thought was so great when I was just some weird, fuddy duddy nerd nobody wanted or ever even noticed."

Finally beginning to calm, no longer on the edge of going to pieces, Grissom sighed again and said gravely, "What he did warped me, Warrick. It started the process of me freezing up and turning inside myself. Since then, I've never been able to trust anyone enough to form the weakest sort of personal relationship. You've seen how I distance people from me. Everyone complains about it, but I'd rather hurt others before they hurt me. You aren't the first, but you are the one I've hurt the most and the one I regret hurting the most.

"Do you know the biggest reason I reacted as I did in Sacramento? Everything seemed the same as that morning Tim shook me awake. That was his name, by the way, Tim Englewood. Waking up next to you, I felt as I had with him, that he was special and I was… nothing. I couldn't imagine someone like him actually wanting someone like me. When I woke up with you lying there looking brown and beautiful with me all old and white and dumpy, everything hit me the same way, like the big man on campus had looked to have a little cruel fun by bedding down with the lab rat dweeb all over again and been humiliatingly successful."

Somehow, as Grissom had talked, Warrick had maneuvered them without his knowledge so he had ended up sitting between Warrick's legs with Warrick's arms around him and, amazingly, he was feeling safer and more secure than he had in decades being held by another person who wasn't his mother, particularly after his voice finally trailed off and Warrick said quietly to him, sounding uncommonly detached, unemotional and scientific, which was exceedingly comforting for Grissom, "Gris, while you've been talking, I've come up with three things. First, outside the death of a loved one, what happened to you is one of the worst things a person can live through. From talking to Catherine and Sara, especially Sara, I've come to understand rape is an invasion of the soul as well as the body. Women don't get over it easy. Some have nightmares for years. It's almost impossible for me, as a man, to wrap my mind around the torment a man getting raped must go through. Then, if he has to deal with publicly taking it through the legal system… man. That's what we're supposed to do, since gettin' raped is a criminal act. But, I couldn't've done that either, if I'd been in your shoes. I would've done exactly what you did, keep it to myself. I'd lay a thousand to one odds on that's what most men do. No man wants to admit another man's done that to 'em. Right or wrong, it's a matter of male pride. But that means you've never worked your shit out from going through that and I think it's about time you did."

"Second thing is, you've made another bad assumption about me. This Tim character? He's not me by any stretch of the imagination. I was never a big man on campus. When I was in college, I started out as what my Grams calls a long, tall, thin drink of water. I was a skinny, four-eyed bookworm trying to find my way off the streets and didn't bulk up 'til I ran outa money and had to go back on the streets. It wasn't 'til then I figured out some muscle kept folks from fuckin' with me and started working out. In college, I didn't party or get into frats or athletics, except for running a little track, or any shit like that. So, don't go comparing me to that bastard. I ain't him."

"I know that," Grissom said with another little sigh, tiredly laying his head back on Warrick's shoulder. "While I sat there watching you sleep, trying not to have a panic attack, I knew that. But my subconscious refused to listen to what reason had to say. You looked too… perfect, which made my glaring imperfections all the more apparent to me. That, consequently, made any love or attraction you'd said you had for me seem all the more ridiculous and implausible."

"God. You don't give yourself any credit at all, do you? I'm a CSI because of you. You brought me into the field and made me love it. You're the most intelligent and creative person I know. I respect the hell outa you. Do you wanna know the real reason I couldn't go to Reno? Your weak apology didn't really have all that goddamned much to do with it, Gris. Real reason is, even after what you said to me, the thought of not being able to see you every day was tearing me up inside. I tried hating you, but couldn't manage it to save my muthafuckin' life. Man, despite myself, I come close to worshipping the ground you walk on and I'll rip your lungs out and make you eat the fuckers if you ever tell anybody I said that. But, to get to the heart of the matter, you're also the most magnificent person I know and no matter how much either of us has tried to work it different, we love each other. That's the bottom line to everything we've both been putting ourselves through."

Warrick's arms tightened around Grissom. He'd been nuzzling Grissom as he talked, the action pleasant without being sexual, his lips warm and consoling. "I love you too much, Gil Grissom, to ever leave you, which's the third thing I conclusively came up with while you were telling me about the dipshit that worked you over in college. Like Nick told you, I've loved you for years and that's been the roughest part of these past weeks. I tried but couldn't stop loving you. That's what makes whatever you say or do to me not matter. I can't get over loving you, can't get over gettin' hard every time I see you and can't get over wanting to do this to you…"

Warrick's arms slid over Grissom's naked thighs to get a two handed grip on his cock and slowly and firmly begin a smooth sliding, squeeze and release motion that soon had Grissom arching up into his arms, grabbing at his knees, breathlessly panting and all of this was very sexual as Warrick whispered in his ear. "It's impossible for me not to want and love you. I've given up on trying not to. Why the hell do you think it was so easy for you to get me to stay in Vegas when that was worst thing I could've done after what you'd accused me of was still tearing me apart? I should've been long gone. But nothing in me really wanted to leave you. I was already lookin' for reasons to stay. Then you came over to my house while I was packing to say what you said. Then, a few days later, what happened to Nicky went down and that gave me an excellent reason to stay put. So, here I still am and here it looks like I'm gonna stay…"

There was more to what Warrick was saying, but Grissom heard very little of it as he floated along on the reassuring sound of that velvety, soothing voice to finally roll through a wonderfully languid orgasm that left him peaceful and drowsy. With his hips helplessly rising from the floor, his head pressing into Warrick's shoulder, he spilled onto Warrick's hands, lying his own over them as he stilled and Warrick began tenderly stroking him near but no longer on his genitals, aware of the sensitivity to touch a man has in the aftermath of climax.

Grissom hummed softly with a bit of a smile as he fidgeted about to settle back and get comfortable on Warrick right there on the bathroom floor, drifting away on the rhythm of Warrick's voice and heartbeat. Moments later, he was dead to the world with his head cradled in the groove of Warrick's shoulder and surrounding arm. Warrick grinned, looking down on him. Resting his head on the wall behind him, Warrick closed his eyes and, chuckling very softly so as not to wake Grissom up, muttered to himself, "Well, this sure as shit hasn't worked out like I thought it would."

Grissom awakened after several hours of restful sleep to find he was back in his own bed, feeling very relaxed. He had been cleaned up and sweet smelling lotion had been massaged into him without his having any memory of undergoing such an assuredly agreeable experience. He must have been thoroughly exhausted not to recall that any more than he remembered how or when he'd been put to bed. He looked over, expecting to see Warrick lying either next to him or in his own bed and was disappointed not to find him nowhere about, an emotional reaction that surprised and elated him because he had never known it before under similar circumstances. Then, before he could begin be concerned about where Warrick might be, he heard whistling coming from the bathroom and smiled.

Getting up and strolling into the bathroom, he saw the quite appealing sight of Warrick standing in the mirror shaving, shirtless and wearing only boxers. But before he could begin to enjoy that, his eyes widened as he took in the multitude of mottled bruises and scabbed over long scratches adorning Warrick's shoulders, torso and disappearing into his shorts. Warrick wouldn't have to remind him of what had occurred this time. He hadn't been drunk this time, only slightly inebriated. He knew well how those injuries had gotten there. Everything he had done to Warrick the previous night came rushing back so fast, marching across his eyes with perfect precision, appearing to him so brilliantly, that he was dizzied and momentarily thrown from the present.

What he mostly recalled was the shuddering ecstasy of what he had done. Once again, he had been given the privilege of having that beautiful body put at his complete disposal to do with whatever he wished and he'd done exactly that. Totally unconcerned with the soul and spirit contained within that body, he had taken his pleasure at will. He had pushed Warrick onto the bed to willy-nilly strip his clothes away before impatiently and anxiously mounting him, committing him to immediate, face front, anal intercourse without any preparation or foreplay. He wouldn't even have taken the time out to provide for lubrication if Warrick had not insisted on at least that.

Unfortunately, Warrick hadn't insisted he wear a condom or anything else and the most horrendous guilt flashed through him when he remembered being given such trust. Horrifyingly and lovingly, Warrick had allowed Grissom to do whatever his heart and body had desired, precisely as he had done in Sacramento and for Grissom, if not for Warrick, everything had been wonderful.

Grissom remembered every single moment without prompting, including several hours after that first violent assault when he had dragged a sleeping, stumbling Warrick from the bed and forced him to bend forward over the desk for a second course of the same. Grimacing and grunting wildly he had pummeled Warrick's hips, thighs, torso and sides with his fists, even leaned in to slap his face a few times as he had vigorously churning into him.

If he hadn't been such an intrinsically honest man and unable to lie to himself, he might have tried to claim that brutality had been committed in the throes of passion, therefore inadvertent. But Grissom remembered too clearly how viciously he'd pounded Warrick, internally and externally. He had heard Warrick's continuous cursing while he had been wearily clinging to the desk's outer edge and enduring the merciless thrusts that must have been causing him a massive amount of pain. If Grissom had been rational enough to hear his curses, he should have been rational to stop doing what had been causing the cursing and the pain.

But, he had not. He had not attempted once to do that.

He'd never consciously meant to have sex with Warrick, although doing it again had, admittedly, lustfully and robustly, been at the back of his mind since Sacramento. His every stated intention had simply been to reconnect with him. Even once Warrick had shown himself more than willing to commit to a sexual encounter, Grissom had still intended for their lovemaking to be gently erotic and as fulfilling for Warrick as it would be for him. He was disgusted that he had, once again, lost control of himself and treated Warrick as badly as he had at the ISCC conference.

"Oh god," he whispered, "Oh my god, I've done it again," before blindly turning and going back toward into the bedroom with disjointed visions of Warrick ripping up his shirt when they had been sitting by the side of the road in the broken down Denali layering onto his reality. He began frantically hunting for his clothes, wanting only to escape, rushing about while mumbling in anxious distraction, "I am the only monster around here. I'm the monster."

But, Warrick heard his distraught moans from the bathroom and was suddenly there to halt him, snatching his clothes from him as soon as he grabbed them to toss them away. Then he bodily picked Grissom up, threw him on the bed and sat on him, locking his hands above his head and kissing him, laughing aloud so hard as he did so that he could barely maintain the lip lock he was trying to create. "Gris, you can put yourself through changes if you wanna, but you're not gonna do it on my time. It's like you said before; we've both had enough of that shit. Whatever you did to me, I let you do, this time and the first time. It wasn't anything you did to me that fucked me up. It was what you said afterward and it's been way different this time."

"But I keep hurting you," Grissom pointed out worriedly, "I keep…"

He broke off, alarmed as he noticed several discolorations on both sides of Warrick's mouth and small cuts on the left side of his lips. Grabbing Warrick's chin mouth gently and turning his head slowly to see the harm he had done to him, a flashing memory seared Grissom's eyes of pushing Warrick to his knees, putting his thumbs in either side of his mouth to harshly widen it as he had gripped his cheeks with his knuckles, then pumping his cock down his throat until Warrick had repeatedly gagged and nearly passed out due to a lack of oxygen. Even after Warrick had gone limp, it had not been until Grissom had finally ejaculated that he had been able to make himself stop and let Warrick breathe.

The frightening recollection forced him to try to struggle from Warrick's muscular arms, crying out, "Don't you see, Warrick, don't you see? I'm attempting to get back at Tim by hurting you. What I'm doing to you is worse than what he did to me. It's what I've dreamed about doing to him all these years and that has nothing to do with you. You're an innocent bystander who was barely in the world when all of that happened. I have no right to take my anger out on you. I'm…"

"Grissom, it doesn't matter, I don't care. We'll work it out. What that bastard did to you is ancient history and this's here and now. We, you and me, will work it out."

"Don't treat me like Nick. I'm not Nick. This is a completely different situation. I won't be condescended to or sympathized with or pitied. I'm not going to let you…"

"Man, I'm not doing anything with you like I do with Nick. You're stronger than he is. Or maybe, you're just strong in another sorta way. I do know you're nothing like he is and I'd never treat you like I do him. You keep shit bottled all up and he sure as hell doesn't do that. He doesn't even know how to do that. He wasn't brought up that way. Nicky let's everything hang right on out there, never has and never does hold anything in reserve. I also know what we've got is different and that we've got to get a grip on it different."

"But Warrick, there's something wrong with me. How could I've done this to you once, much less twice? It's abuse. What I did to you, what I'm doing to you, is sexual abuse."

"No, it's not, no, it's not, and don't you fuckin' call it that. I'm a grown man, bigger and probably stronger than you are. I could've stopped you any time I wanted to."

"But you didn't Warrick, you didn't. And, I…"

"Gris, I didn't want to. I really didn't want to. I was into it as much as you were."

"No, you weren't. You couldn't've been. I hurt you. I kept hurting you. I keep hurting you. No one can like that, no one normal, and you're normal, Warrick."

"Well, maybe I'm not, cause I swear before God, I didn't want you to stop. I'm a little sore now, but at the time, I really didn't feel the pain."

"Warrick, that's wrong, too. Just because we seem to both have some sort of… symbiotic emotional aberration that's meshing with the other's version of a sadomasochist sickness doesn't make what happened right."

"Okay. I hear and agree. But we work on it, all right? Together, we'll work on whatever the hell's going on with us. Just don't go backing off from me right from the start just cause where we're trying to get to with each other isn't perfect yet."

"But, maybe you're not safe with me. Maybe we shouldn't…"

"Shut-up, Grissom. Just shut-up." And Warrick stopped Grissom's mouth in best way he knew how, in the most efficient manner possible. He held him down to kiss him thoroughly and hotly until Grissom could do nothing other than relent, participate and reciprocate.

After awhile, he was calm and tranquil enough for Warrick to slide off and lie on his side next to him, putting an elbow on the bed so he could prop his head up on his hand, cuddling close with a long brown leg thrown protectively over Grissom while holding his hand. Grissom lifted their interlocked ebony and ivory digits to peacefully peer at them as he noted, his contentment having been deliciously reinstated, "You are my completion, Warrick Brown. You now know the worst about me and still want me. That is remarkable."

"Not really. You've always known the worst about me and accepted it, Gris. You helped me with the gambling and never gave up on me even when I kept falling off the wagon. You knew what my lifestyle was about when you brought me into the department and still thought I was worthy to become part of your team. You knew I had and still got the streets running in my blood, but you've help me work with that and become the professional I am. You knew how my temper was, how it still is, but you've been helping me deal with it. Difference now is you've finally let the helping thing be a two-way proposition. I get to help you like you've always helped me, and man, I thank you for that, I really do. You've let me in a little bit and you couldn't've given me any greater honor than that."

Grissom had to smile at Warrick's unique take on his allowing him to begin the process of tearing down walls of emotional detachment that had undergoing construction since Grissom's young adulthood. "Oh, I see. So you regard my informing you of my most secret and horrid weaknesses as an honor then?"

"Yeah, Gil, I do. Is that anything you've ever trusted anybody else enough to do for 'em?"

After a long silence, Grissom said, "No."

"Then, there ya go."

"Am I to assume you want this sort of thing to continue?"

"Absolutely, but not today. It's time to lighten up. We are muthafuckin' done with soul-searching discussions and traumatic revelations for today."

"Then you've got to promise me one thing. You'll never, ever, under any circumstances, for any reason, at any time, whatever our future together is going to be, let me become so engrossed or carried away that you allow me to again do this… awful thing I've now twice done to you. I can't tolerate even the idea of you being in this condition a third time and me being the cause of it. I wouldn't be able to handle it if someone else had beaten you like this. I most certainly can't or won't, knowing I'm the one who's done it."

Warrick grimaced at hearing Grissom say that, then protested, "You didn't beat me, man."

"Whatever you want to call it, it was too close to a beating for comfort. If I was on the job and came across a vic looking the way you do right now, I'd do whatever it took to put the perpetrator behind bars for a good long time. If you want us to still try to work out anything between us, I'm swearing an oath to myself I'll never do this to you again and you got to swear an oath to me you won't let it happen again with you and me or with anyone else. Otherwise, I can't allow us to ever be together. I refuse to become abusive toward you and refuse to let you become an enabler for me. That would make for an extremely unhealthy relationship between us and the resultant pain would be too much to bear in too many different ways."

"In that case, I'll swear an oath to that and anything else you want. You got your promise. Now that I've finally got you where I want cha, I'm not about to give ya up."

Warrick rolled onto his stomach to gaze so wickedly into Grissom's eyes that his whole groin seemed to instantly tighten up as his penis hardened. "However, there's one more thing I gotta say and get it out the way. You can take it any way you want. I just think you should know. Last night, I wanted to be in you so goddamn bad but didn't go for it cause of how you reacted before to me fingering your ass just a little bit. It won't be today and might not be any time soon, but I'm gonna get you, Grissom. That's another promise I'm making to you. Eventually, I've got to know what it feels like to be inside you. But, about some things, I can be patient and we'll wait 'til you're ready. I want you prepared to enjoy it as much as I know I will. It won't be any fun for me if it's not for you."

He kissed Grissom again then immediately rolled out the bed, not giving the older man any time to respond to his guarantee of the change in sexual positioning due to occur later in their lives together. "Now it's time to get your clothes on, man. We're going downstairs to eat. Room service takes too long and I'm starving."

They got dressed and walked to the elevator, rode down to the lobby having companionable, casual conversation. During the elevator ride, it was just the two of them and Grissom reached for Warrick's hand. As they walked out into the lobby, much to Warrick's shock, he was never released. Circumspectly, he tried to pull away, but Grissom locked down, squeezed his hand with a fond smile and refused to let go. When their fellow conference attendees' mouths dropped open in amazement at the sight of the two men strolling along with their fingers interlocked, Grissom just pleasantly and blandly greeted each one as they stared, giving a slight, courtly and gentlemanly bow of the head to a few as he serenely bypassed them.

Warrick, knowing Grissom's passion for privacy and keeping his personal life separate from his professional life, was just about certain he had entered some parallel dimension straight out the twilight zone as he asked of him, "Man, you really know what you're doing here? Sure you haven't got hold of some more of that shit they gave you when we were in Sacramento?"

"Warrick, I am stone cold sober, very clear headed and know exactly what I'm doing," Grissom told him as he headed into the restaurant. Still smiling, he glanced over into Warrick's face to say, "As I said before, you're not the only one who's been doing a lot of mental processing over these past weeks. I've hurt you in so many ways. I left terrible marks on your body and your heart that I'll be a long time forgetting about and forgiving myself for, which has nothing to do with the forgiveness you insist you've already given me. I still intend to spend many years making up to you for what I've done to you and doing it very pleasantly, I might add."

Warrick frowned, impatiently distracted by a perky hostess asking whether they wanted smoking or nonsmoking and a table for two. Grissom answered her quietly as he listened to Warrick say, "Grissom, my style's to put bad shit behind me, try to forget about it and move on. So, I wish we could stop talking about this."

"No. Not yet. Soon, we will, but not yet. The scars I put here…" Grissom carefully and gingerly stroked Warrick's side through his shirt while they trailed the hostess, "The first ones are gone, the new ones soon will be and I'm going to take care there won't be anymore. However, it'll take much longer for the ones I put inside your head to go away, if they ever do. When I convinced you stay in Las Vegas and not take a job that would've been an extremely advantageous career move for you, I also tried to convince you and myself the words that I had said to you that had hurt you so much were simple and careless. I was in serious denial then. Those were trivializing adjectives I tried to use as a diversionary tactic in an attempt to minimize the verbal, physical and emotional damage I had done to you.

"What I had succeeded in doing was making you ashamed of the beautiful love you had for me when you're a man anyone would be delighted to say they were in love with. Or, most especially, that he was in love with them. That was actually an extreme failure on my part and it took me quite some time to realize this very basic fact. Now that you've let me back into your life, I insist on revealing to one and all how very appreciative, how very respectful and extraordinarily proud I am to have a man like you to call my own."

"Yeah, but that's no reason to jeopardize both our careers and doin' this…" Warrick held up their joined hands, "out in the open in this nosy crowd is damned sure bound to do that. Somehow and in someway, it'll get back to the Ecklie and everybody else in the sheriff's department."

"So? I've never hidden my homosexual proclivities from anyone nor made a big deal of them. Is it because we're men that you're ashamed to let people know we're together?"

"Hell no. I'm never been one to be ashamed of anything I've made up my mind to do, man, whatever that might be. You should know that about me by now. But still, there you go again, makin' assumptions without waiting for all the evidence to come in. The only problem I see is I work for you, Gris. You're my direct supervisor. You know better'n me what we're doing can get us into all kinds of trouble. It's against regulations."

"Yes, I'm very well aware of that," Grissom said cheerfully. "And, it'll still be against regulations the next time we do it. If this presents a problem once we get home, we'll deal with that together, if and when that time comes." Playfully and not very discreetly, Grissom bumped against Warrick's shoulder as he tightened his grip on his hand. "Right now, I'm enjoying myself too much. It's not every day a young blood like you tells his best friend how much he wants an old man like me then proves it so very thoroughly by letting that old man take his pleasure without insisting on getting any of his own."

"Gris, first, you're not an old man. Second, I'm gettin' my pleasure. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here with you. Thirdly, I didn't tell Nick how much I wanted you. I told 'em how much I loved you and that's way more important. Don't forget about that."

"I'm not forgetting about that. I've been thinking about that quite a bit. In fact, just this morning, while I was sitting on the bathroom floor and sleeping in your arms, I had the strangest dream about you, me, Nick and Catherine. I dreamed you couldn't work up the nerve to tell him about us, so I went to his apartment to do it for you. While I was there with him, Catherine knocked on the door. She had come over to check on you because of the way you'd been acting so out of sorts. The three of us sat down and I told them very truthfully everything that had occurred between us, starting with the Sacramento conference and how what I'd done had been negatively affecting you. The upshot of our conversation was that, because we all loved you and you addressed particular needs we all had, we agreed to share you."

Having reached the restaurant and ordered coffee after being seated by a hostess, laughter bubbled up in Warrick as he looked across the table at Grissom. "Say what?!!"

"Oh, it was a most remarkable and extravagant dream," Grissom coolly said. "Also sexy as hell, I might add. It ended up with you having the hottest sex with Catherine then making the sweetest love to Nick, which was also very hot, while I had the distinct pleasure of watching."

"Damn, Grissom!!" Warrick sputtered, completely shocked as he stared into his supervisor's calmly twinkling eyes. "Jesus Christ!!"

"Are you bothered by that? You shouldn't be. I'm definitely not. In a different reality, the four of us together could make for a perfect situation. We all love each other in different ways and we'd be a complimentary quartet. You're a highly sexed individual; as I've previously noted and seen more of than I wanted since we've been here in Miami; as is Catherine. I can see plainly how you both might strenuously and athletically address needs the other has all night long. You've already expressed an interest in me… bottoming for you is, I believe is the correct terminology. I assume that's something you'd enjoy. While it isn't anything I believe I can do for you just yet, I'm sure it's what Nick does for you, as I can't imagine a reverse scenario with you two. In my dream, there certainly was not."

"Yeah, well…" Warrick stumbled uncertainly, not sure what he should be saying to the revelatory and extraordinary conversation but was much too unnerved by it and too much of a gentleman to disclose what he'd really had been doing with Nick. But Grissom's dream had come amazingly close to the truth.

Grissom continued with, "After I woke up, the dream still as vivid to me as you are right now. I began to not only fantasize about you, me, Catherine and Nick, but also consider how we could include Sara in our little circle so she wouldn't become suspicious and envious of the closeness the rest of us had with each other, as she's wont to do. I found myself wondering how we might comfortably turn the quartet into a quintet. After all, she is a necessary part of us and I wouldn't want to leave her out. You do have to admit she'd add an interesting dynamic."

"Grissom, man… this is… incredible. I'm hearing what you're saying, but I'm having a helluva hard time believing it. In fact, if it wasn't for me hardly believing anything that's been happening since yesterday, I'd say you've gone completely around the bend and went nuts on me."

"Well, believe. While I may be the emotional cripple with a barren personal life Catherine claims I am, I've always had a rich and varied fantasy life. And it's time you knew you've been the focal point of my daydreams for a number of years. I'm not embarrassed to admit you have, in my fevered imagination, shared my bed many a lonely night and assisted me in finding what little relief was available to me. When the gossip hit about you and Catherine then about you and Nick, I added them into my fantasies and was content. Now, I just don't think it'd be quite fair if I didn't find a place for Sara in them."

"Uh-huh, yep, you've gone nuts on me."

Grissom slightly cocked his head to the side with a small grin as he said, "There's something else connected to this theme, since we're on it, that I'd like to mention. Do you remember a few weeks ago when I came into the locker room and almost caught you and Nick having a go at it?"

Shocked, Warrick's mouth dropped open, as he was about to automatically dissent. But Grissom shook his head and smiled while saying, "Please don't deny it. There's no reason for you to do that. This isn't about me reprimanding you for having sex on the job. It's about how you tried to protect Nick by distracting me from seeing him while he got dressed and how cheerful he looked when he came out behind you. I knew exactly what you two had been up to without either of you saying a word because he had such a sated and satisfied after sex glow. I've never experienced that and it's agony for me to have to admit that. I'd love to know how what Nick felt feels like. I think the closest I've ever come to that was when I woke up this afternoon after you'd cleaned me up and put me to bed. The gist of what I'm attempting to say here is, after seeing that, along with my observation of his enjoyment while you were taking him in my dream, has definitely lessened any apprehension I had about you doing the same for me."

That last comment put a halt to the thoughts Warrick had been formulating in his mind to turn Grissom from this discomfiting topic of conversation to another. Expressing renewed interest, all he said was, "Oh yeah?"

Grissom's observation of a telling and predictably lusty glint in Warrick's eyes made him add hastily, "What I'm saying here is all the stuff of a fantasy, Warrick. Not even remotely, can I imagine any of it ever really happening. Besides, we're just now beginning to come together as a twosome and I wouldn't want to complicate that by adding others to the mix. I also can't deny I'm a… bit disturbed by the thought of sharing you. So, for the time being, I need to keep separate what you have with anyone else from what you have with me. I may dream about you with others and imagine watching you while you're with them. But in reality, I want you to be all mine. I want us to belong only to each other."

"So," Warrick inquired softly. "You sayin' you'd rather what we're getting to becomes exclusive?"

Grissom merely looked at him steadily for a time before saying. "As nervous as that makes me, yes, I suppose so. However, we should take our time with any assumption of exclusivity. Because what we're doing is already making me nervous, I don't want to rush into anything."

"Nope, neither do I," Warrick said, stretching a little, "'specially if us as one makes you nervous. Can't do with you flipping out so you get defensive then turn tail and run back into your deep, dark, shell on me. Cause I give you my word, Gil, there's not a chance in hell of me ever again lettin' you put me through shit like you did before. Ain't gonna do it. Don't get me wrong. Come hell or high water, as Grams says, I'm in this for the long haul. But you rub me raw a second time, man, and I'm permanently gone. I give you my word on this. And don't go thinkin' it'll be about sex or any of the other physical stuff. I can handle that. I can deal with everything else. But fuck with my heart again and there won't be any turning back from that."

"That's fair enough and very understandable. It gives us both room enough to maneuver until we get this thing right." Grissom leaned back to affectionately gaze upon the man whom he was already beginning to, only daring to do so in his own mind without Warrick's knowledge, tentatively think of as his lover. He was finding that to be a very pleasant notion. "Do you remember saying I seemed to enjoy it when you, hmm, indulged yourself in a little finger play involving my anal region when we were at the Sacramento conference?"

"Oh, hell yeah, I definitely do. You did, I swear you did. You haven't remembered that part yet?"

"I wish I could, but can't say I have. Therefore, just to test your theory that I did enjoy it, perhaps we can… give that bit another try after we finish eating. I'm not sure how much of it I'll be able to take, but I honestly think we should do a little research on the matter."

"You do, huh?" Warrick said suspiciously.

Smiling, Grissom affirmed, "I guess it's the scientist coming out in me. You never know what's really out there until you conduct a thorough experiment based on a given hypothesis and make a final determination as to what the correct conclusion is. Even without that, I can conclusively state, Warrick, my present hypothesis is, because of the innate benevolence of your nature, any commission of anal intercourse and its associated acts will surely be much more enjoyable for me than I've made them for you."

"You're not just sayin' you'll try it just cause you feel guilty, are you?"

His smile widening and a dreamy expression coming over his face, Grissom slowly slid his hand across the table toward Warrick and was extremely gratified when Warrick's met his more than half way, picked it up and lightly cradled it. "There is that aspect but don't be concerned about it. You need to understand, under these circumstances, I'll welcome the forthcoming penetration of my person because I expect it to assuage much of my guilt."

Unwilling to let go of Warrick's hand, Grissom raised his other to stop him from speaking. "Don't object. I truly wish to do this. Nothing you can say or do will change my mind about it. In fact, let it add a fillip of revengeful anticipation to your pleasure. That'll aid in me making up for the immense amount of emotional and physical pain I've been responsible for causing you. There's much I've still got to do to earn the forgiveness you've already given me and this begins it."

Tightening his grip as Warrick obstinately shook his head, Grissom said to him, "Do it for the love I bear you that's growing by leaps and bounds even as we sit here. I may have my dilemmas with interpersonal relationships, but even I'm aware love has to be built on a solid foundation. Only by equalizing and rectifying every facet of our budding relationship can we have that."

Warrick sighed as he turned Grissom's hand over to begin stroking its palm with his thumb in a casual manner that sent anticipatory hot thrills coursing throughout the other man. "Grissom, I know how you like to keep turning things over and over in your head until they make sense to you, but I've really had it with us constantly discussing this. Let's just say we've got love for each other, got shit we need to work out and let it go for a while. All I really wanna do right now is eat lunch and discuss something else. No insult intended, man, but I'm really starting to get all talked out with this one."

"As you wish," Grissom murmured, staring at Warrick as if intending to burn his image on his corneas forever, which he most assuredly did. "As you wish, whatever you wish, whenever, however and wherever you wish it." Unable and unwilling to stop smiling, he slightly inclined his head. "Your wish is my command, my chocolate complected and green eyed prince. I'd say do with me as you will, if I, for one second, thought you'd take me up on that. Since you doubtlessly won't, we'll do what you seem to prefer, acknowledge we love each other and work on the rest. We've reached enough of an understanding for me to truly believe we now have an excellent opportunity to end the heartbreak of the past and walk into a brighter future. We can ask no more of each other than that."

"Yeah. That's it then, that's all there is to it, that's enough." Uncaring of whoever might be watching, Warrick leaned over the table toward Grissom to gently cup his cheek with a large, warm, brown hand. "That's more than enough."

Grissom leaned his head over to catch that hand between the side of his face and shoulder as he whispered, "I love you, Warrick Brown."

"Yeah, Gris, I love you too," said Warrick, withdrawing and grinning as he sat back to reach for his fork. "Now shut-up and eat."

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