Title: A Sophisticated Walk on the Wild Side
By: Esynnaj
Pairing: Gil/Warrick
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Grissom holds his personal business close to the vest. But he also holds Warrick there and invites Warrick to walk with him to explore the secrets he has.

Gilbert Grissom was convinced that, if freshly made, bubbling hot, creamy smooth, pure chocolate fudge could be given life, it would walk, talk, look like Warrick Brown and be just as edible and delectable. It was early afternoon, seven hours into the dayshift, and Grissom was still at his desk wading through mounds of paperwork after working three crime scenes on the midnight shift when he had first heard Warrick. Instantly, the making love to chocolate imagery began flitting through his head. Pausing in administrative tasks that were always an annoyance to better concentrate on Warrick speaking to someone in the hallway, he cocked his head to the side, piercing blue eyes sightlessly staring at the opposite wall of his office. Over the years, he had gotten accustomed that soft, sensuous sound drifting from the corridor outside his office but never been bored by it. There had even been numerous times when he had used it to make sense of his world when nothing else would or could.

Idly picking up a stack of papers without caring what they really were but needing something in his hand to make it seem he was busy with work, not being burnt with fantasies of a taut, chocolate complected body, he rose, seemingly on impulse, and walked out into the hallway. There was nothing impulsive about his action. He had actually waited until hearing Warrick walk away from the other voice, heading in the opposite direction. Maintaining enough distance to keep Warrick from noticing his stalking, Grissom trailed him until he entered the locker room. Waiting a beat, Grissom went in behind him, silently padded up and down at the front of the aisles until he was certain no one was in the locker room except him and Warrick, then used his manager's key to lock the door. After that, he wandered to where Warrick was as if his being there at the same time was coincidental.

As he neared Warrick, he asked with a slight smile, "And, how's my favorite CSI doing today?"

Grinning, Warrick turned his head to give Grissom a glance and said, "Don't let Sara hear you call me that. She'd rip you a new asshole."

"Perhaps. But the fact remains, you ARE my favorite CSI for reasons well known to both of us."

Hearing lust rippling all through Grissom's voice, he glanced toward the door and asked, green eyes beginning to sparkle, "You've locked us in again, haven't you?"

"I have," Grissom agreed gravely, sauntering closer to him. "Does that present a problem?"

"None at all, Grissom, ma man," Warrick said cheerfully, reached a long arm out to gather a bunch of the material of his supervisor's shirt in his hand and roughly, strongly and possessively pulled Grissom to himself. "None whatsoever."

Grissom held back a little, thoughtfully fingering the label of the inexpensive suit Warrick was wearing. He was one of the few men Grissom knew who looked good in everything and anything he wore, even cheap stuff. Even better, he looked outstanding in the nude, a condition Grissom dearly loved seeing on him. "There was a time when you wouldn't've been caught dead in something like this."

Surprised by the remark, Warrick just studied Grissom with a slight frown as he said, "Yeah, well that was a different time and I had a different life."

Grissom's head came up to gaze expressionless into his eyes. "There are occasions when I regret being the one responsible for taking you from it."

"Don't. It was all about cash and flash, no substance, a feast or famine kinda lifestyle. I'm better off out of it." Besides," Warrick added with a grin. "Now I can go to Grams and not be lyin' to her about what I'm really doing. She was proud of me before but without reason, most of the time. Now, she's got real reasons to be proud."

"No, you misunderstood me. My regret isn't bringing you into CSI. That was one of the best moves I've ever made. What I regret is removing you from an alternative lifestyle when I haven't given up the one I have myself."

"I only regret it when you won't shut-up about it," Warrick said, hauling Grissom in without any acceptance of resistance this time.

Welcoming the contact, Grissom locked his hands on behind Warrick's head to tug him down into a hot, searing kiss that brought the enlargement of growing erections onto both men. Breaking it, Grissom gasp, "Do you remember what we did the first time we connected?"

"We've had two occasions of first connection, Gris, one physical, the other emotional."

"The physical one. We're still straightening out our emotional entanglement. I only want to talk about the one I'm secure in dealing with."

"Okay then, that one. Yeah, I remember. Not easy to forget. You gave me a hand job that blew the top of my head clean off."

"I want you to do the same for me."

"Grissom, I do that for you all the time."

Grissom pressed closer, peering up as him as he told him, "Yes, you have. But, you've never done it for me in the locker room."

That got Warrick to laughing. He kept laughing, just a little, as he leaned back on the lockers behind him and spread his legs to keep his balance during the ensuing activities. Grissom was not a noisy lover, but he definitely was a vigorous one. More than once, when they had been upright and making love, he had nearly knocked Warrick from his feet with his abandoned and energetic movements during orgasm. After assuring himself Gil wouldn't easily be able to send the both of them tumbling to the floor, Warrick encircled his waist with a long arm, bringing Grissom as close to him as possible and holding his eye as he loosened the other man's trousers to slide a hand inside his shorts. Grissom leaned trustingly against him, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, eyes wide open and already beginning to pant and squirm in anticipation.

It was a leisurely masturbation. Warrick did all kinds of things to the cock he had in his hand. He massaged it, pulled and pushed it, squeezed and released it, played with the balls beneath, bent slightly, lowering a shoulder to run his fingers as far as he could along Grissom's perineum. His stroke was firm, sure and steady, a rhythm that soon had Grissom keening aloud as he split Warrick's legs with one of his own and humped against the one between his.

Warrick used his fingers to spread Grissom's pre-cum over the head of his circumcised cock. Then he began to gently pinch the rounded end with his thumb and forefinger nails, mixing that with the messaging, stroking, pulling and pushing, squeezing and releasing. Grissom wrapped one of his legs behind Warrick's knees to further increase the friction, grunting and rubbing up and down so tough against Warrick's pant legs, Warrick was sure he had to be hurting himself. He definitely was not.

When Warrick dropped the end of Grissom's dick into the palm of his hand to curl up and ease the knuckle of his middle finger into the small opening, circling it gently, Grissom gave off with a loud 'humph' noise and a hitching gasp. Then, after a moment of anxious twisting, he suddenly put a shoulder into Warrick's chest and began to lunge at him as he gave a series of low, open mouthed shrill screams. The animated lunges, each of which was accompanied by Grissom shooting a copious amount of sperm all over Warrick's hand, hit Warrick hard, loudly bouncing him off the lockers behind him. Warrick said nothing during Grissom's orgasm but as soon as he was still, supported by Warrick's arms as he tried to figure out how to breathe again, Warrick told him, "Gris, there's a helluva lot more people on day shift than there is on midnights. You're taking a mighty big chance with us doing this in the daytime."

"It was an opportunity I couldn't resist," Grissom mumbled into his chest. "I knew you had to be in court this morning after you got off work and had to come back to change. I couldn't resist. I just had to take advantage of that. I had to wait for you."

Warrick was just sliding his hand out of Grissom's slacks and Grissom grabbed it. With firm authority, he pushed it toward Warrick's face. Knowing what was wanted of him, Warrick opened his mouth to take one side of his own hand into his mouth, tasting the substance of Gil Grissom on it while Gil, eyes closed, began sucking on the other side to taste himself as the pair of them licked Warrick's hand clean, digits and all. Then Grissom kissed the palm, released Warrick's hand, opened his eyes and stepped back, readjusting his clothes and recovering his aplomb as he inquired, "Is anything showing that shouldn't?"

Warrick shot a look below Grissom's waistline. "Nope. You're good." He grinned. "Must be some thick tighty whities you've got on there, man. I gotta find a way to get you outa those things and into some more up-to-date apparel."

"Warrick, I know how you feel about my lack of interest in fashion. It's a been beaten to death subject. So, let's not start up with that again. There're other matters I want to discuss with you. Do you remember when your evaluation consisted of taking a roller coaster ride with me?"

"Yeah, I do. That's another thing that keeps Sara pissed with you about me."

"That is completely immaterial."

"Not to me it isn't. She's had it out for me since the thing with her mistake about me gambling at the casino. She'd bring me down if she could. Or," Warrick changed up with a grin, "she'd bring you down if she could, in a completely different context. Reason she stays so bothered by me is cause I got you and she don't."

"As I said, none of that applies to the current topic of conversation. Sara can be that another day. Today, I just want to talk about us. Ricky, the roller coaster ride was for a reason, you know."

"Yeah, I do know. You've told me enough." Warrick chanted in Grissom's rhythm of speech, "Coaster riding's like a declaration of the constant cycles of life necessary for continuance that won't quit going round and round. It's frightening, but too tempting to step away from. Riding a coaster is one of few times you feel freed from the cruel, mundane and emotionally wringing aspects of your life. Hey, I really do be listening when you're psychoanalyzing yourself."

"Then, you know how important it is to me. Warrick, you do the same thing for me. You free me. Even before we were together, your importance to me was immeasurable. Before I had my surgery, back when I was missing nearly a quarter of what was being said to me, I used to seek you out so I could focus on your lips to relax, which would always keep me from panicking."

Grinning, Warrick said, "You've focused on them for different reasons than that."

"Hush. I'm being serious. I mention this because... you know how I've been trying so long to beat you at chess because I fail most of the time?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You stunned me the first time you beat me, Warrick. I'm a good chess player and hadn't thought you'd be able to do that. It's made me reevaluate how I think of you, take more into consideration what you are, rather than what you do for me."

"Gris, I was taught chess by the best. Those bums down at the park got the game down pat. They'd give Bobby Fischer a run for his money."

"Warrick, that's beside the point. Now, please be quiet and listen to me. I seldom give you enough credit for your intellectual and analytical abilities outside the job. As I said, I never expected you to beat me that first time or any of the many times since until I began to get a bit of understanding of the dynamic causing my disbelief. I, like many others, think of chess as a game for masters. It's not to be taken lightly. Even now, despite your friends in the park, most people regard chess as an elitist game. You don't. You treated the matter of your first win over me so casually, just walked out while I sat there and resisted the idea that you had actually won, even though you obviously had. That has caused me to reevaluate how I've been thinking about you. Recently, I've been rightfully enthralled by your physical prowess and emotional strength. But I've been wrong in letting that take priority over you being one highly intelligent and very systematic young man who can also be very pragmatic whenever you're not allowing your emotions to get in the way."

"What? You mean you thought I was dumb and disorganized?"

"Of course not and take your hand away from there, Warrick. You're not going to distract me. My growing awareness of your more indefinable gifts has progressively brought me to the realization I and others need to see you in another light. By living life full out in acceptance of whatever it may offer as you have, you've found a comfort level I could never achieve.

"You navigate differing lifestyles with the ease of crossing a deserted country road. You can hunker down, as Nick might say, to have comfortable, entertaining and informative conversations with a wino or crack head then ease into one with the head of a multi-million dollar corporation. That's one of your greatest talents, the ability to comfortably traverse societal barriers. You're usually not aware you're doing it. You may not care for all of humanity, but you easily interact and engage with all of it, sometimes angrily I must admit, without the slightest qualm. I've often wished I could do the same. You're the only person I know with that kind of verve and classiness. You move from the dregs of society to the heights of sophistication without breaking stride. You are never fazed by that and I'm about to put that quality of yours to use."

"Gris, you know what? I... don't think I understand what you're talking about here."

Grissom sighed. "Of course you don't. I'm going around in circles and burying my true subject in obscurity. The gist of it is, since both of us have the weekend off, we're going out tonight. I'm taking you to a very special place to do very special things and I'm making a thorough mess of trying to prepare you for it without telling you what it is. So here's the bottom line. I want you to go home and get as much sleep as you can, so you'll be well rested."

"Why don't you come home with me," Warrick suggested, a glint in his eyes, reaching out for Grissom again. "We can..."

"No. Stop that. Quit trying to redirect me."

"Aw, com'mon, Gil. You're not being fair." He parted Grissom's leg with his knee to rub against him a hardening length that was a result of his having not gotten the gratification Grissom had obtained. With his mouth close to Grissom's ear, he growled, "I need you, man..."

That made quivers shoot through Grissom, but he determinedly told Warrick, "Well, at this particular moment, you're not going to get me. I have too much to do to get ready for tonight. So, save this for me," Grissom squeezed Warrick gently through his suit trousers which made him groan and laugh at the same time, "until later. Now go home. Go to sleep for awhile. I'll be picking you up at approximately ten o'clock tonight."

"Isn't that kinda late for us to be going out?" Warrick called after Grissom as he walked away.

"Not for where we'll be going," Grissom returned without looking back. "Where we're going, they don't even get started until the midnight hour's already struck."

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

Warrick was stretched out on his couch with soft jazz playing when he heard a key turn in his lock and knew his partner in the commission of numerous sexual crimes illegal for homosexual and heterosexual couples in various parts of the country had arrived. Earlier, he had finished off a blunt in the bathroom, leaving the window open so Grissom, who, as yet, refused to establish any kind of comfort level with any kind of drug use, no matter how mild, wouldn't catch a whiff of its odor. He had lit incense to cover whatever odor remained. Between the intoxicating marijuana that had been given to him by downtown Jamaican friends and three beers, the third of which he still had in his hand, he had a nice buzz going and was thoroughly mellowed out. But he came to wide awake attention at his first glimpse of Grissom.

The man was in a tux. And, it was no off the rack tuxedo. Obviously expensive, black with a pale gray vest edged by two lines of thin, red satin strips on the label, Grissom was wearing it to such perfection, Warrick's expert eye said it had to have been specially fitted to him by a very experienced tailor. Recognizing it as from the Lord West collection, Warrick speculated someone else must have dressed Grissom for this evening out. The silvery silk of the vest was beautifully coordinated to the silvery silkiness of his hair, highlighting Grissom's intelligent and expressive blue eyes while complimenting his lightly tanned complexion. Having never seen Grissom, who had, to Warrick's regret shown any interest in stylish attire, had never let Warrick see him in much less buy him anything approaching this elegance, Warrick was sure he hadn't put himself in that tux. Even the red bowtie at his throat was flawlessly arranged and no way could have a man like Grissom have done that for himself.

Rising to his feet in surprise as Grissom ambled in with a very self-satisfied smile, confidently swinging a garment bag over his left shoulder, Warrick grinned and said, "Damn, Gil, what the fuck is this? You look good enough for me to wanna eat cha up alive."

"We'll have to wait until later on this evening for you to do that." Grissom swung the garment around, unzipped it with a flourish and removed, not a tux, but the even more formal wear of a formal tie and tails ensemble, the entire outfit all white. After carefully lying it on the sofa, he reached into the bottom of the bag and took out a gleaming white top hat. As he smartly popped it out, he said to Warrick, "Right now, you have to get dressed."

Warrick's mouth dropped open. "I'm wearing that? Gris, where the hell is that we're going?"

"Get dressed and you'll find out."

Their attire wasn't Warrick's only surprise of the evening and would soon prove to be minor among the surprises that were to rapidly pile upon him. As they stepped outside, Warrick came to an abrupt halt, because waiting for them was a sparkling clean, brand new, all white stretch limousine, chauffeur included. As their black suited driver opened the passenger side door for them, Warrick turned his head to stare at Grissom who actually had the audacity to smirk as he gently shoved Warrick to force him forward again. "Get a move on, son. We haven't got all night. We've got a very important place to go and very important things to do when we get there."

Warrick never sufficiently recovered from his shock enough to be prepared for the next when they pulled up to a brightly lit mansion on the most discreet and wealthiest side of Las Vegas. As the chauffeur opened the door for them and he climbed out, he said in complete astonishment, "We're at Pete Breckinridge's place."

"Yes we are. Do you know him?"

"Hell no. I've never run in his kinda circle. But who doesn't know about the man? I don't know him, but Nick does. He's told me how he used to hang out with some of Breckinridge's sons back home. Breckinridge is a good friend of Nick's father and owns about a quarter of the oil fields in Texas. Even before Nick told me about him, I'd heard how he owns most the land in Nevada and half of Manhattan."

"Well, tonight, you'll do more than hear about him. You're going to meet him in person."

When they reached the double doors of the mansion, one of them was swung open by a butler in black tails himself before Grissom could even knock. As they stepped through, Warrick started to hand his top hat to the butler but Grissom stopped him. "No. You're going to need that tonight. In fact, I want you to keep it on. This is one night where wearing a hat indoors is going to be quite acceptable. At least, it will be for you."

As they entered the expansive foyer that led to a set of marble steps down below which were the gathering quarters of the mansion, the butler preceded them and halted at the top of the steps to loudly announce, "Mr. Gilbert Grissom and Mr. Warrick Brown." Then he stepped away.

To provide Warrick with another shock, every face in the place turned to watch as they came down the steps into the glittering, formally attired assembly. There were murmurs of admiration as the two men joined a crowd that was, mysteriously, quite open about expressing their opinion of the attractiveness of Warrick's appearance to Grissom although not to him as they opened a lane to allow Grissom and Warrick in. Grissom quietly and calmly accepted every compliment as his due, as if they had been aimed at him and did not concern Warrick. It was most unaccustomed behavior for him in Warrick's estimation. Grissom was more relaxed in this company than Warrick had ever seen him be before when in public. He'd never seen anything like it happen to him and Grissom unless they were home alone, had never seen such a large group of strangers who were all so bold and sexually suggestive in the comments they were making. Therefore, he was having quite a bit of trouble believing this was actually happening. "Grissom, what the hell is going on?" he asked in a taken aback, low voice.

"Take it easy, Warrick. You'll find out soon enough. For now, let's just mingle."

They had been there less than half an hour when an amazingly lovely young black woman also dressed formally, but in a slit, sequined red gown so lacking in material, Warrick worried that very important and very private parts of her would soon come tumbling out, came sashaying up to him. She ran a hand down his left arm, saying softly, "Well, Warrick. It's about time you got here. I'm sick and tired of being the only black face in the place."

"Leona? What're you doing here?" Tilting her head, she just smiled all the more up at him without answering his question. Thinking she might think his query rude, too personal, an assumption of impropriety and none of his business, he laughed uneasily and corrected himself. "Hey, sorry if I'm overstepping. I don't know what I'M doing here."

Looking very amused, her eyes slid over to Grissom. "Do you mean to tell me he doesn't know why he's here?"

"No," was Grissom's ready answer. "If I'd told him, he likely wouldn't've come."

"Oh. That's understandable. Well, Warrick, you're not overstepping. Although you're not here for the same purpose I am, you should be, the way you're wearing the hell outa your white tie and tails. Once upon a time, when we were running the Strip together, you would've been. Now, however, your chosen employment path is getting you the glory, if not the money."

Cocking his head slightly, he squinted down at her to ask in mild complaint, "Why's everybody talkin' in riddles tonight and not making any sense?"

She smiled and patted his arm. "It'll all make sense sooner than you'll probably want it to. Just know for now, being on the arm of the man you came with is what got you in here, just like it did with me. Just like you're here with Mr. Grissom, I'm here with him," she said, nodding back at the man who was approaching them.

Pete Breckinridge, a tall, handsome white man a bit older than Grissom with distinguished gray patches at his temples in contrast to his black hair came up to slip a familiar arm about Leona Patrick's waist while shaking Grissom then Warrick's hand with the other. "So glad you could make it, Gil. We were afraid you might back out. We all know how difficult it was to talk you into this. Thanks for bringing Mr. Brown." Cool gray eyes raked Warrick as if he was a side of prime beef and the man behind them were speculating on his worth. "Now that I finally get to meet him in person, I see he'll make an excellent addition to our little gatherings. Too bad he's not coming among us in the customary role of a member's companion. I'd prefer the simplification of getting to know him better by only having to ask your permission for his companionship."

Shocks on top of shocks. "What?!!" Warrick snapped, not caring at all for the inference of that remark and beginning to get hot under the collar, as was his habit, as a result.

Grissom stilled Warrick by the application of tighter pressure and a warning squeezing to his hand before he could further speak his mind, saying quietly, "I told you to take it easy, Warrick."

Warrick's outburst didn't seem to bother Breckinridge whatsoever. He just grinned at Warrick then said to Grissom, "Spirited buck, isn't he?"

When Warrick's, "WHAT?!!" was even louder this time, Grissom murmured, "Pete, give him a break. Let him get accustomed to things before you start making remarks like that."

Breckenridge laughed and said, "You're quite right. Mr. Brown, I apologize. But it's not every day we have such a handsome man as yourself on the premises. Leona, why don't you go dance with Mr. Brown? That should help him relieve some the stress I've unfortunately raised in him with my big mouth. Help him to exercise it out."

Immediately, Leona reached out to grasp Warrick's free hand in both of hers. "Come on, Warrick. Let's show these arrhythmic folks of the Caucasian persuasion how it's done."

Warrick looked at Grissom, a perfect study of bewilderment. It was only when Grissom said, "Go dance and enjoy yourself. I know you love to and I love to look at you while you dance."

With great reluctance, Warrick submitted to Leona's tugging and went with her to join the gyrating bodies on the huge dance floor in the far side of the ballroom where a five piece band was playing. Grissom and Breckinridge stood together in silent appreciation of the striking couple as they walked away. Then Breckinridge said to Grissom, "Well, I guess Helena's instincts were on the nose again. She's been pushing for this and I had been one of the ones telling her to use due caution. Looks like I was wrong. Your Warrick just might be the new blood we need to liven up this place. The last few times we've gotten together, it's been as dead as dirt."

Taking a deep breath, he added, his eyes still on Warrick, "That man's a thoroughbred, Grissom, a fine tuned thoroughbred. If I had a stallion like that, I wouldn't waste time gelding him for the track. You don't neuter an animal with the blood lines and goods he's got. He's got too much fire. I'd put him out to stud. I'd want to get as many foals out of him as quick as I could. He'd be more valuable covering my mares to produce colts with the potential to be just like him than running races for me."

Grissom smiled, imagining how furious Warrick would have been if he had heard that. "You're the money man, Pete. I wouldn't know anything about that. Excuse me. I'd like to concentrate on nothing but him while he's on the dance floor. It'll be quite a sight, I promise you that."

"Oh, yeah, I could get into that myself. He walks like a living streak of sex, so I'd guess seeing him dance will be an improvement. Let me ask you this. Is he as good in bed as he's been reported to be?"

"He's better," Grissom murmured without looking as the man as he moved to a spot where he could get a better view of Warrick on the dance floor.

The ebb and flow of music was the one thing, other than making love to Grissom, that could make Warrick forget everything else. He had the physique for it and could have been a professional dancer if he had so desired. He certainly had the moves and they came natural to him. Smiling faintly while watching Warrick and Leona smoothly burn up the dance floor, Grissom gradually noticed he was not the only who had eyes for them. Being as tall as he was and the only one who had been specifically dressed all in glistening white while all the other men were in more somber formal attire, he was instantly noticeable. He was also the only black man not superficially and specifically there as a companion to the rich and/or famous or a server with a drink tray moving through the crowd, attending to the buffet tables, bartending or in the band.

It was mildly worrisome for Grissom to see all the attention Warrick was attracting. Once upon a time, these had been the sorts of people who had given him provided Warrick with much of his financial support. They were women and men in a far wealthier tax bracket than Grissom and more than willing to flash enough monetary wherewithal to dazzle and blind attractive, youthful men and women to the more valuable and less tangible things in life, wealthy women and men with whom Warrick had easily intermingled at an earlier stage of his life.

Grissom felt a mild dismay when the first of them cut in on Leona and she politely stepped back to let him take her place with Warrick. Warrick showed a bit of hesitation for a moment, because it was a man requesting a dance with him. Then, after noting there were quite a few other same sex couples on the floor, he shrugged his shoulders and simply accepted the situation. He had that capacity Grissom envied so much to just go with the flow.

After the first man cut in, there came a series of other men and women doing the same. They were practically lining up to get a dance with Warrick, which instantly brought them positive notice. Warrick was the kind of dancer who made his partner good, no matter how inept their own skills at moving about the floor might be. If such a thing as a dance card had ever been utilized at these events, Warrick's would have already been filled.

That did nothing to lessen Grissom's uneasiness. These people were power hungry movers and shakers ranging from corporate executives responsible for billion dollar businesses to attorneys heading up law firms used by those same executives or numerous other well known businessmen and celebrities. Another of the men who had been in Warrick's arms on a slow dance was a former surgeon nationally famed for his discovery and utilization of life saving techniques and now was the administrator of a university connected teaching hospital. A woman who was the multi-talented star of both movies and stage and had just released a CD that had gone platinum plastered herself to Warrick so tightly, Grissom wondered if the Jaws of Life might have to be applied to separate them. To his budding alarm, all of them were angling to get their hands on the man who had come as his date.

Upon his return to Grissom's side, Warrick was still electrifying, still fired up from moving to the sensual beat of the music that was in his blood. Grissom felt an inordinate pride that it was to him and only him that Warrick belonged. As he came back to Grissom, crackling with adrenalin, before he could speak, a woman close to Grissom's age slid between them. She was a well preserved, former showgirl who had been married to a mob connected casino owner. He had arrived in the late sixties to make his first million and several thereafter in Las Vegas, but died violently and left a very rich young widow. That man was dead now, but she clearly was not, as she had by the hand a slender, very handsome if not very tall young man who tiptoed to peer curiously over her shoulder, which his hand now possessively clasp, at Warrick, both of them eyeing him like he had no clothes on.

"My, my, my, my," she breathed, eyes flickering lustfully over Warrick but addressing her words to Grissom, "Gilbert Grissom, you dog, you. After all these years of flying solo and seldom availing yourself of the talent we have here, you finally show up with the most delicious looking piece of merchandise. Who in the world is this beautiful creature?"

Grissom felt tension rising in Warrick at being called a piece of merchandise and a creature in a single breath, but stealthily gripped his elbow to keep him quiet. "Warrick, I'd like you to meet Ms. Theresa Barges. She's..."

"I've heard of the lady," Warrick cut in, still with a smile, but one that now had an edginess to it. "Most everybody has in Vegas. She owns the New Jack Casino and above a 30 % interest in a couple more. Having lived here all my life, I'd be embarrassed if I had to say I hadn't heard of you, Ms. Barges. Your casinos once helped to provide me with the money I needed to keep body and soul together. You have my appreciation for that."

"Why, thank you. I'm always glad when I've been of benefit to someone's life. But Gil, you should've been introducing us to your friend a while back since he's been around so long. Where on earth did a man like you find such a lovely young thing and why on earth have you been keeping him under wraps? You should never hide an artistic piece of work like this. You always polish it up and show it off, so that others may admire it as well."

Slightly jarred by being so casually referred to as an "it," Warrick still managed to charmingly grin at her and say, "It wasn't that he was hiding me. Gil's just not a man who likes the attention that goes along with being seen with an artistic piece of work like me. He mostly likes to do all of his polishing up in private. So do I." He added with a distinct sexual sparkle in his eyes, "And, ma'am, we both polish extremely well."

The implicit insinuation in what he had said and the cheeky manner in which he'd said it brought a rosy blush to her face and caused her companion's hand to visibly tighten on her shoulder. But she ignored that to say, "Somehow, Mr. Brown, I should imagine your polishing skills are indeed, very extensive and very remarkable. But, did I hear you say my casinos once assisted you financially? They don't any longer? I'd have guessed you would have kept them up, since being a civil servant doesn't pay quite as well as anything else a man like you could find to do out on the strip."

"Got to where, with gambling, the negatives outweighed the positives and I had to give it up."

"How unfortunate," she purred as she laid her free hand on Warrick's arm, suggestively squeezing it. "Actually, I haven't been as forthcoming as I should be. I've heard of you also, Mr. Brown. There aren't enough African-Americans here in town for one with the unique reputation you used to have for one to go unnoticed. I remember you well from frequently seeing you at the poker or blackjack tables a number of years back. I've always wondered what happened that you just dropped out of sight. I'm glad to see that you've come back among us, particularly in this very special forum."

While still undressing Warrick with her eyes, she reached up to grip the hand of the young man standing behind her as it rested on her shoulder without releasing the other to pull him tighter against her back as she said to Grissom. "Gil. My friend Eric here has expressed an interest in the four of us getting together to, hmmm, have lunch or dinner some time in the near future. We've got a rather interesting proposal we'd like for you to hear. Would that be agreeable to you?"

Grissom politely tilted his head to her and said, "Theresa, I'm always agreeable to spending time in your company." He shot a brief look at her "friend" as he added, "Eric's also. But, I'm a working man with a schedule to keep and unfortunately, not being independently wealthy, don't have the leisure time that you do. I'd have to check my calendar first."

Hearing Grissom's reluctance and assuming the basis for it was jealousy, she flashed Grissom the falsity of a wide, brittle smile. Her voice took on a brittle tone as she said flatly. "Wonderful. You do that. But, I know how absentminded you are about such matters. If you haven't called me before the week's out, I'll call you."

With arrogance and malice aforethought, she freed a hand to cup Warrick's right check, boldly caressing it with her fingertips. "I absolutely refuse to let you keep this superb, black and proud young thing under wraps any longer. If your schedule proves to be too busy, perhaps I'll give Mr. Brown a call myself." To Warrick, she said straight out, "You don't have to give me your number. I really have nothing to write it down on. However, my people should have no problem looking it up for me. Ta-ta for now, gentlemen. Have a pleasant evening. I hope to see you again very, very soon, Mr. Brown, under less public circumstances. I give you my word, you'd find the evening most profitable and agreeable. Oh, and the invite includes you too, Gil, if you're so inclined."

Warrick stared after her for a speechless moment as she and Eric went back to their mingling. Then he said, "Hey, ah, Grissom, I'm starting not to believe any of this."

Also watching the floating retreat of a rival for Warrick's affections and talents which he had yet to indulge himself this evening, Grissom muttered, "Yeah, me too. The woman's nasty, Warrick. I advise you not to have anything to do with her. She has the bad reputation of ruining the lives of the young men she's involved with, once she's through with them and especially if they put her down first. I'm surprised she just didn't rip your clothes off where you stand and rape you. Or sit down to watch while she paid you to do it to her sweet as sugar little buddy. Everyone knows how prone she is to doing such things."

Warrick looked at Grissom and grinned, the other man's sarcastic remark returning his good humor. "Well, damn, Gris. I didn't think she was as bad as all that."

"She's worse. You don't know her like I do." Grissom sighed. "Come on. Let's go get a breath of fresh air before the entertainment starts. I've had a long day and got to get off my feet.. These shoes are killing me."

As he followed Grissom, looking around at a crowd mainly comprising extremely well heeled women and men from the local and national upper crust accompanied by extremely attractive, often much younger women and men, Warrick asked, "Grissom, really. What is all of this? Who are all these people and what are they really doing here?"

"It's a club, Warrick, a very exclusive, very private club. About half of them are among the five percent with enough money to control this country. The others are people without money who are drawn to that money and have something non-monetary to offer in return, usually sex."

"Uh-huh. Since you don't fit into either of those categories, what're you doin' here?"

Grissom smiled. "What? You think I'm not drawn to the money? Or can offer sex?"

"Nope," Warrick said without hesitation. "That's not you, no way, no how. Man, you don't like social situations and I've seen you getting up in the face of rich folks and tellin' 'em off too often to believe you're here for the money. So why are you? Really?"

"Oh, they invite a few of us more well known working stiffs to join whom they hope will give the club an open-minded and intellectual sheen. To their advantage, it makes for good publicity. To our advantage, they tend to be very charitable to the companies or agencies we're employed by. It's because of donations from a few of the people here that we have an as up-to-date lab as we do. If it had been left up to the department to uncover funding for us, I can guarantee you, we'd be doing our job out of a basement somewhere and using sticks and torches to acquire evidence."

"Okay. That's a good reason for you to have gotten an invitation, but that doesn't answer my question as to why you're here. You haven't got a fundraising bone in your body and you don't care about those who do or those with cash to give. So I reiterate. Why are you here?"

Grissom sighed. "Warrick, there's a lot you don't know about me. Sometimes, even I have to..."

Before Grissom could finish his sentence, he was startled by a hand coming out of thin air to grab his in a grip that nearly cut off its blood supply. "Gil Grissom!! Long time no see!! It's good to see you out and about for a change!! How the hell have you been doing?!! Aw, come on, man, don't be so standoffish!! We're all friends here!! C'mere and give us a kiss!!"

Looking highly offended, Grissom tried to yank his hand back to his side and regain his personal space which was being so rudely invaded. The man pumping his hand was taller than Warrick and nearly half again as wide without being fat just solid, the type of hale and hearty fellow with a carnivorous grin constantly pasted to his face who enjoy claiming they'd never met a man they didn't like. He had an unpleasant, piggish face and even on an initial acquaintance, did not seem to be a likeable person.

Consequently, as most did, Warrick took an instant dislike to him, especially with Grissom starting to appear panicked, attempting to withdraw as he always did whenever anyone got nearer to him than he wished. Instinctively and automatically protective of those he most cared about, without thinking about what he was doing, Warrick put a hand on the newcomer's and Grissom wrists as the two men as they rocked back and forth to twist and yank their hands apart. Then, glaring fearlessly up at the much bigger man, too angry to feel any fear, he said in a voice gone soft and steely, "He wants you to let go of him."

But Warrick was ignored as if he had said and done nothing. The huge man leaned in, reached an amazingly long arm around him to hook Grissom around the head and pull, forcing Grissom to stagger past Warrick, bumping into him. This caused both to suffer a loss of equilibrium neither was able to correct in a timely manner as, merrily shouting, "Don't fight it, Grissom!! You owe me this!!" the newcomer gave Grissom a loud, wet, sloppy, smacking kiss dead on the mouth.

Warrick couldn't handle that. With Grissom grimacing and jerking away, he stepped between the two, his face set and determined. Letting go of Grissom, but keeping his grip on the other's wrist, Warrick put a shoulder to the other's chest, shoving him back like an all star lineman while pressing a thumb into the soft artery on his wrist. Then Warrick stepped forward, snapped the man's arm up and over so it straightened from the elbow with the under part of his wrist facing up as he clapped a hand to his shoulder and heavily took him to his knees. That did the trick. Warrick hadn't forgotten any of the take down techniques life on the streets and belonging to the LVPD had taught him. Grissom was freed.

Others were looking on but did not seem to be unduly disturbed by the incident. A businesslike man in a well fitted suit that looked costly but was not quite formal or as dressy as what everyone one was wearing came quick stepping toward them. He rounded on the heavily breathing man kneeling on the floor to put a finger in his face and say critically, but as if he was addressing a child, "Now, Mr. Dickson, you know better than to act like this."

Afterward, glancing up at Warrick without moving from his position facing the larger man, he said, "Please. You can let go of him now, Mr. Brown. He won't do anything else. He's really very harmless." Then he looked over at Grissom disapprovingly. "Mr. Grissom, you know how Mr. Dickson is. You should have told that to Mr. Brown before matters escalated into this."

Grissom put a shaky hand on Warrick's arm, an indication he should do as he had been bidden. Warrick released the man he had carried to his knees and stepped back, still with a belligerent and threatening frown on his face. Grissom said, his breathing pattern still irregular, "I'm sorry. Yes, I should have. But... Paul, uhm, surprised me. He's never been this aggressive before."

Having been so strongly taken down and physically restrained did not seem to bother the blustery newcomer at all. He got to his feet with Warrick still suspiciously eyeing him, laughing like everything was perfect in his world. Then, he wrapped Warrick in a bear hug that heaved him up until he was dangling in the air, yelling out, "Hey, Grissom, helluva man you got for yourself!!! Good looking, too!! I want him to be my friend, too!!"

Now more indignant than angry, Warrick slid his hands upward inside the other man's arms until his elbow touched the bottom of them then sharply pushed out to regain his independence, feet dropping back onto the floor. As soon as he was grounded again, he moved to stand just before and to Grissom's side with a shielding hand placed on Grissom's elbow to push him back as he also stepped back and put more distance between them and their attacker.

The man in the suit was standing in front of the ham fisted, far larger, far too loud, far too socially incompetent man and speaking quietly to him. Then, the suited man glanced forward at two men in professional white jackets paired with black slacks who came upon his silent command, took Grissom's assailant by an arm on either side and led him away. As soon as they did so, a very handsome, dark skinned Latino went after them, smiling and strolling as if he had not a care in the world but disappearing as soon as the other three men did and never returning.

The man who had approached and alleviated the situation turned to Warrick said patiently, "As much as it may seem impossible to you in light of his current actions, Mr. Dickson is really quite harmless, Mr. Brown."

"Yeah, right, and pigs fly," Warrick growled to that.

"Then they must, because Mr. Dickson's never hurt anyone who hadn't, in his mind, hurt him or a loved one first. You should be able to understand that. You have an extensive reputation for being the same way yourself, Mr. Brown."

Warrick muttered in a monotone snarl, "That may be, but it won't be me who'll be getting hurt if that asshole puts his fuckin' hands on me or Gil again."

The man sighed and tipped his head toward Grissom, saying, "He's admittedly very pretty, Mr. Grissom, but you might want to put this bulldog on a leash." He smiled coldly and thinly as he added, "I mean that literally. If you haven't already tried it, then you really should. From the looks of him, that might rather be fun."

Warrick starting striding forward, leaning with his chin as he rapidly walked upon the other man. But Grissom, whose rattled nerves had finally begun to settle down, caught his arm and swung him back to his side, saying wearily, "Warrick, stop."

When Warrick did without any hesitation, the cold, thin smile widened. "Excellent. I see you've trained him well. You are to be congratulated."

Totally astonished by the man's conjecture, an increasingly enraged Warrick began an aggressive, "Why you ignorant motherfucker. If you don't..."

And the man actually had the audacity to step to the black man who was at least four inches taller, much more muscular, apparently streetwise and obviously not one to back down from a fight. "Calling me names nor threats of a beating will get you nowhere, young man," Something about the iciness in his voice and a sudden deadliness rising in a flat, unemotional gaze halted a startled Warrick in his tracks for the moment.

He would have stopped even if Grissom had not reached to grab the tails of his tux to hold him back as the man continued, his voice snapping like an icy wind, "You can't frighten or intimidate me. Don't think for a second I'm your usual kind of man. I'm not a wealthy elitist as are most of those here, but I am unique and belong here as much as Mr. Grissom and Mr. Dickson do. So, understand me well. I've thrashed men larger that you who had attitude problems such as yours. Some, I've been forced to bring within an inch of life and been forced to send others over that boundary if they had given enough reason for that finalization. I've also been on the receiving end of thrashings. Most did not, but a few have given me a vast amount of pleasure. Violence is the lot of the business I'm in as well the focus of some of my more pleasurable activities." His eyes arrogantly raked up and down Warrick. "It's not traditional behavior with me, but I believe you might be someone with whom I'd very much enjoy taking on a submissive role."

Grissom eyed Warrick, apprehensively waiting for his reaction. But Warrick had finally been stunned into silent inaction. Removing them from his suit pocket, the cold eyed man flipped out two cards so quickly and efficiently, it was as if they had appeared from thin air, and handed them to Gil. "My cards, Mr. Grissom. Consider yourself privileged. I only give these to a select few. You may give one to Mr. Brown, if you wish. You'd have my appreciation, if you did. They have my home and cell numbers and you know where I work. It is my contention your young man here is in need of my... expertise to become the man he should. I'd like to assist you in that endeavor. Call me when you're ready to set up a time for us to get together."

With Warrick surging forward once more, Grissom said sternly, "I said for you to stop, Warrick." To the other man, he said, "Excuse us, please. It's time I got a drink for him, so he can cool off." Then to Warrick as they walked away, he said. "It's also time that I gave you an explanation as to what's really going on here."

Stalking after Grissom, but hanging back to send a potent glare at the man with whom they had just been speaking, Warrick growled, "You're damned straight it is."

They threaded the crowd flashing speculative glances at them although no one had once moved to interfere during the previous confrontation. Neither man spoke until they reached a candlelit balcony which was otherwise shrouded in the evening's darkness. Sliding the glass door to the balcony open, Grissom told Warrick, "Have a seat out there and calm down, Ricky. I'll be right back. I'm going to get us something to drink."

Warrick stood a moment, green eyes with the golden flecks still firing heat as he gazed down on Grissom. Then, he obediently stepped outside. Restlessly, he wandered awhile, trying to shake off the bewilderment and fury that yet seethed inside him. Knowing it wasn't proper or the right time, he jerked the first button of his high collar loose and unfastened his jacket. He was glad to be out of the air conditioning and away from the strange mixture of people inside the mansion, wanting privacy and down time, but it was warm outside. He needed to cool down, not get heated up. Although no one could have recognized, he felt perplexed and exasperated, unsure of exactly what was going on.

Outwardly, his look was still one of the rangy, laidback cool he had established as his persona in his gambling days, so his apprehension and confusion was not showing on him. But he did not quite have his emotions under control and hated when he let his temper get away from him, which happened far more than he liked. His grandmother and Grissom's patience with him over the years had enabled him to, most of the time, recognize the signs of his temperament's build up so he could rein it in before it got him into serious trouble. However, for the life of him, he simply would never be able to obtain the calm authority Gil had and which he so much admired. That was absolutely beyond him.

Eventually, he stopped pacing and sat down, his anger easing into a simmer as he stretched out with a sigh and gazed at the stars, finally relaxing under a summery breeze. He was able to look at Grissom with a small smile as he came out with the two drinks in his hand and say, while accepting his drink, "Sorry for almost losing it in there."

Grissom returned the small smile as he sat down. "Your reaction was reasonable. I should've given you an idea of what to expect here. That was Jeff Atherton that we were last talking to. He's a partner with Bryant, Collier and Atherton."

"The law firm that keeps the casino owners from getting into messes?"

"The very one. But that's not all they do. Their clients include a number of underworld figures, celebrities, politicians and corporations. Their main function is the application of preventive measures that keep their clients' various peccadilloes from landing them in the newspapers or the legal system. Paul Dickson is the half-brother son of Isaac Jessup, one of their wealthiest clients."

"Yeah? I've heard of this Isaac Jessup. He owns T-Bolt International, the company that builds tanks and shit like that for the military."

"That would be him. He has Bryant, Collier and Atherton on a permanent retainer and one of their primary duties is to keep Paul out of trouble. Jeff's assigned to follow him about whenever he's in public to smooth over and alleviate problems arising from Paul's childish behavior that always causes altercations such as ensued with us. That's why he's in a suit, rather than formal wear. He's here to work, not for pleasure, even as much as he pressured you to get with him later."

"Hey, no way. The dude is one very scary sonafabitch. Did you see his eyes when he was talking to me? He looked like he could've cut me every which but loose, then wiped the knife off and used it to slice up whatever he was having for dinner without a second thought."

"You're quite right in that. Jeff's a dangerous man. He was once a Navy Seal and in the CIA. He has a reputation for being able to handle himself. He's a man who can and will, upon the receipt of violence, return it tenfold. That's why he was selected to permanently baby sit Paul. Jeff is a lawyer, thanks to his military service helping to pay for his education. He wasn't born into money like a lot of the people here. He's worked himself up, earned all he has and still isn't one of the truly wealthy. Only recently has he gotten into a position where he can move among this class of people and I don't think he thinks of himself as one of them anymore than I do. But, it's opened doors for him. Now, his main job is to negotiate with whomever Paul's antagonized, so they won't sue or return his... gusto with hostility."

"Well, hell, Grissom, maybe they should keep the idiot under lock and chain if he can't control himself any better than that."

"That wouldn't be fair. The way he is isn't his fault. He was badly wounded during Desert Storm, Warrick, which was a war he didn't have to go into. His father's money could have kept him out of it, but Paul's a patriot who thought he had an obligation to serve his country. He's never fully recovered from the head injuries he received, as you can see. Before the war, as the oldest son, he was in line to become the CEO of T-Bolt Industries. Now, he has trouble tying his own shoes. This is a man who was once discussed as someone who might run for president one day. Now he has the mental capacity and emotional maturity of a low achieving seven year old, Warrick. And that's on his good days, which come far and few between."

"Jesus," Warrick murmured.

"What is more, he's a hero twice over. When he served in Vietnam, he received a Bronze Star for bravery over and beyond the call of duty. Then in Desert Storm, he stormed an enemy stronghold where several American soldiers were being held captive." Grissom took a sip of his drink before adding, "One of those soldiers was his lover, Warrick, the man he's proven beyond any shadow of a doubt to love more than life itself. His lover is here with him. In fact, the majority of everyone here has a lover with them. Some are married couples, but most are not."

Warrick said nothing but turned his head to look at Grissom as he felt a chill go down his spine and an abrupt, budding glimmer of understanding. Grissom continued, saying, "You probably never noticed him, but Carlos Ortega was standing nearby the entire time we were with Paul and Jeff. That's Paul's lover. Carlos, who was also wounded serious enough at the same time to end a promising military career, has never left Paul's side since they were hurt. He can never intervene if Paul's out of control, however. Past attempts haven't turned out well. Paul only truly becomes violent if he feels Carlos is in danger. So, Carlos has to stay to the side, as much as it pains him, while others safely remove Paul from whatever fix he's again gotten himself into. However, he immediately goes to Paul as soon as he can."

Warrick nodded his head in wonderment. "Know what? I did see him. He left right after the white jackets came and took Paul away."

"Indeed he did and always does. He still loves Paul, even in the terrible condition that he's in, as much as Paul loves him, as much as he ever did. It's in an arena like this that such love can be expressed and thought of as perfectly normal. There're many who don't understand how any normal person could continue to love someone like Paul, both emotionally and physically, like Carlos does. But here, no ones questions that because it's no one else's business."

"Okay, you've got to give me more'n that. Cause this is weird, this is all very weird. So, you really need to tell me what the fuck is going on and tell me fast."

Grissom took another sip of his drink then said, "The Coalition Club had its beginnings in the late seventies, during the time when so-called free love was prevalent, although differently expressed than it had been in the sixties. It was started by a man named Duncan Worthington, whose family owns more corporations in this country and abroad than I care to count. Paul Dickson was one of its founding members, which is why he's always included in any of its events although he can't participate as fully as he once did. He's not allowed any access to the business end, which I'm told he resents, since he doesn't have a clear understanding of his limitations. But, with proper supervision, he's always been welcomed at all evenings of entertainment. He is, after all, a hero and from a very wealthy family. Being wealthy, connected, discreet and interested or involved in an alternative lifestyle is the main requirement for club membership."

"That a fact? Well, you might have the last three covered, but you sure as hell ain't wealthy. How'd you manage to get in? I mean, for real."

"Well, as I told you before, the members with less financial resources are invited because they have something special to offer and make the club seem less elitist. You have to come highly recommended and pass a rigorous initiation procedure. Duncan was my sponsor and Pete was my mentor. They recommended me for membership. I only met Pete through Duncan about fifteen years ago, but Duncan and I went to college together. He was a science nerd, like me and unlike any of his family. In addition, he had... particular proclivities similar to my own. His money, while he thoroughly enjoys it, has never defined him and my lack of money meant nothing to him. We became and have remained very good friends. I wish you could meet him, but he had business overseas and couldn't be here tonight. He's a good man to know."

Grissom paused, anxiously waiting for Warrick to say something. When he did not, Grissom continued. "He started the club for a certain group of very highly placed VIPs who couldn't tolerate media exposure into certain portions of their lives. However, they still wished for a safe and secure haven in which to exercise their sexual identities and proclivities, whatever those might have been or entailed, far from the public eye. This club provides that environment."

There was a long silence.

When Warrick still did not speak, Grissom asked without looking at him, "Do you understand what it is I'm trying to explain to you, Warrick?"

To Grissom's surprise, overriding the trepidation that was beginning to make his heart beat faster, Warrick began grinning as he said, "I'll be damned. I will be damned. This is a fuckin' sex club. We're in a muthafuckin' sex club." Then he broke wide to laugh aloud, leaning back and throwing his head back before he sat up and said, still laughing, "I am in a high class, rich people sex club. Man, this is fuckin' unbelievable. I just cannot believe this shit. Never would've thought it, but Grissom, you've finally found a new one on me. You've brought me to a fuckin' sex club."

Grissom's anxiety quickly faded as the realization hit him that Warrick might be shocked but was not disgusted. He even seemed to be regarding the situation with great humor. "I suppose you might say that, but I prefer not to put it as baldly as that. Nothing causing permanently harm to anyone or anything that is illegal in the state of Nevada is allowed. We are simply adults who get together to enjoy each others' like companionship on a level we all understand and acknowledge."

"Yeah, right, uh-huh, sure," Warrick said, unable to stop giggling, his amusement very evident. "What yall really do is get together to get fucked, don'tcha?"

Grissom sighed, "Warrick, for such an intelligent man, you sometimes word things in a very crass manner. There is the sexual aspect, but that's not all there is to the Coalition Club. We often have the most stimulating, informative and intellectual discussions about a variety of topics. There are also several charity organizations that are completely or partially funded by club members, the money funneled via avenues that allow the existence of the club to remain undiscovered. Not only that, we've frequently... Warrick, if you don't stop laughing, I'm going to go inside and lock you out. I don't see what's so funny about this."

"What's funny is I never thought of you having anything to do with something like this. I mean, hell, Grissom, you've spent your whole life looking like you were boxing yourself out from most of civilized society, just focusing on your damned bugs. For years, all you did was learn how to show no emotions and avoid relationships with other people. But here you are, belonging to a club where everybody fucks everybody else."

"Everybody does NOT fuck everybody else. The majority of the couples here are very loving and exclusive. Now, that's not to say they don't sometimes bring others into their relationship, but that's always only done with everything being agreed upon by both parties beforehand. If either is uncomfortable, then it's simply not done. I'll have you know we very seldom have orgies here, except on very special occasions, if that's what you're meaning to imply."

Unable to stop laughing, Warrick said, "Nope, that wasn't what I meant to imply, cause no way can I get with that sorta shit. I like to know a little bit about who I'm in bed with. Everything else, I'm sayin' outright. Maybe you don't, but most of yall come here to get fucked."

"Well, that's a possibility. Some of us don't, however, necessarily do anything with anyone other than a selected companion. There're a high number of committed gay and lesbian couples here plus heterosexual couples who like to experiment. In fact, there are gay and lesbian couples who like to experiment outside their own sex and this is the one place where they can do that without anyone interfering or being judgmental about whatever they do. I'm sure you know how I feel about people who try to judge me."

Warrick willed himself to tone his laughter down to a series of irrepressible chuckles. "Yeah Gris, I do, and I hope you don't think that's what I'm trying to do. Cause, man, this is great. I really mean that, now that I know what's going on. It's really great. This is the closest I've come to the life I used to live in a long time."

Very seriously, Grissom asked, "Do you miss the life you used to live?"

Warrick sighed and looked at him, his eyes sparkling so much, Grissom was briefly afraid he was about to get lost in them, "I do. Yeah, sometimes I do. It was always exciting. I felt alive, especially when I was gambling and taking chances, even if it wasn't always my money I was taking chances with. But, I loved that. We black folks don't much go for the bungee jumping and sky diving sort of shit. We don't like to take our lives in our hands like that. We do it in other ways. But hanging out on the Strip with people who were into the same lifestyle I was and not watching the world going by but getting down right in the thick of things, yeah. Sometimes I really do miss that. Guess that's why being a CSI turns me on so much. Maybe it is about death and shit, but you're still getting down into the middle of everything. You're not sitting on the sidelines and molting away."

"Is that what you used to think I was doing, molting away?"

"Hell no. I just used to think you were into shit, but kept it bottled up in your head and never let it out. I was scared you WOULD start molting away if you didn't get up and get out some. Figured out you'd been doing that on the sly, though, when I caught you at Lady Heather's that time and it got to feel so right for both of us to be there. This's just another turn of the screw that locks me down to you, Gil. You got a wild side and I'm glad you're finally inviting me to walk it with you."

"I'm doing more than that, Warrick. I've brought you here because some of the club members expressed their wish that I inform you of an invitation you've received to become a member."

Warrick's grin grew bigger. "You're shitting me? You recommended me for membership?"

"Oh, it wasn't me, Warrick. I'm not exactly sure how everything came about. Once the decision was made to extend an invitation to you, things moved faster than I'm accustomed to in my personal life. The most I can say is, since I've been a member, I've certainly talked about you enough to make the idea palpable to and worth pursuing for certain members. But, I'm not the one who recommended you. My membership isn't the sort that allows for that. You have to be on a much higher level than I am to bring someone in for prospective membership. Before anyone came to me and asked that I bring you this evening, you had received two recommendations."

"I did? From who?"

"Well, let's go back inside. They're both here. Why don't we go find them." After they had stood up, Grissom frowned at him. "No, Warrick. You're definitely not about to go back in there in this sloppy condition. Come here and let me fix you up."

Warrick stood still, smiling down on Grissom as he busily buttoned Warrick's shirt and jacket. On impulse, he put the side of his forefinger under Grissom's chin and lifted his head to tenderly kiss, him at first, the kiss acquiring passion and heat as it was sustained. Lying his hands on Warrick's chest, Grissom leaned into him to further take pleasure from it. Then, as Warrick slowly and reluctantly released him, he asked, "What was that for?"

Warrick grinned as he kissed him again, a light, playful peck. "That was for love, Gil. It was for nuthin' but love." He tapped Grissom. "That's what I got for ya, man, nuthin' but love." He added, knowing how alarming unexpected revelations of devotion were to Grissom. "Everything else is secondary, although the sex is damned good. I can't get enough of that. I'll never be able to get enough of that with you."

Grissom was still staring up at him, confusion and fear showing in his eyes as they always did whenever Warrick become too emotional with him. Warrick intuitively knew he had to get rid of that, so he kissed him again and said quietly. "Don't look so worried. I'm not asking you to say it back. I know how tough that is for you. I know you love me back. I don't need the words, cause you say it otherwise in all the ways that're important to me. All the time, every day, you pour everything you've got into telling me you love me. You say it with your body, your soul and your heart. It's in your eyes and you can't get it out. So all I got to do is look at you to see it. I see and feel it every single day, even when you're reaming my ass about some shit I've done wrong on the job. I don't need the words. I don't need 'em at all. Just keep looking at me the way you do and that'll tell me all I need to know."

Grissom took a deep breath, held it and finally exhaled. He was shaking his head as he indulged an overwhelming compulsion to have skin-to-skin contact with his lover by caressing Warrick's face. "Warrick. Oh, Warrick," he whispered. "I still don't know... quite what I'm going to do with you. The things you say, the things you do to me ... the things you make me feel. They're often too much for me."

"Aw, Gris, listen man. I'm not trying to..."

"No." Grissom put a finger over his lips to silence him. "No. What you said was perfect. It shows you know me so well, possibly better than I know myself." He shook his head, smiling, but with a bit of sadness touching his voice now. "Ah Warrick, the things you've done to me. You've taken me out my comfort zone and I can't seem to go back, as much as a craving for that is on me. It's unimaginable now to consider not having you in my life as you are. You've done the impossible. You make me want to become more, become better than I've ever been. You make me want to be more complete. I can't think in your presence and I can't think when I'm out of your presence. I don't want to do either anymore. It's amazes me that I'm still able to function. It's only by sheer willpower that I get through a day at work without having my concentration shattered by thoughts of you. You have become the joyful center of my entire life. Most of all and most importantly, there's the fact you make me... become undone and never want to be what I was again."

While Grissom had been talking, Warrick's arms had wound about him to pull him close. Warrick was smiling at him, tenderness, love, admiration and respect written all over his face. "Know what?" he said as Grissom dropped his head onto his shoulder, the effort of revealing his love to Warrick in the best way he knew how having exhausted him, "For a man who has all the trouble you claim you do at telling a body you love 'em, you do it goddamn well, Gil Grissom."

As they stood there, before they could say anything else, a woman in a business suit slid the balcony door open and said, "Mr. Grissom? Mr. Brown? The initiation ceremony is going to be part of the entertainment tonight and Mrs. Portland would like to speak with you, Mr. Brown, before it begins."

That jiggled Warrick's memory. "Portland?" he repeated, looking at Grissom as they separated from each other with dismay on his face.

"Portland," Grissom assured him with a smile. "Warrick, you're about to be reacquainted with the very unique lady who is going to be your sponsor."

"Awww, Grissom, come on. You know how it was with me and that woman." Grissom smiled as Warrick petulantly went through a comical routine of closing his eyes, wringing his head on his neck in exasperation then heaving a deep sigh and looking down to stare at the floor with his hands on his hips, "She's a pain in the ass. I don't want to..."

"Too late. You're already here. But, it won't be so bad. Everyone who comes into the club has to have a recommendation and someone who'll also mentor them, show them the ropes. You have to be a charter or first tier member to be a sponsor or mentor. Duncan Worthington arranged both for me. However, while Mrs. Portland is a charter member and chose not to make arrangements for your mentor. Says that would've taken up too much of her time and is too tedious. So one of the first tier members spoke up and said she'd do that. Your mentor's going to be the other person who recommended you and I'm sure you're not going to mind spending time with her."

Walking back inside with Grissom, Warrick inquired, "Hey Gris, tell me something. What'd that lady mean by the initiation's gonna be part of the entertainment? Are we gonna haveta be doing anything here tonight that we haven't done before?"

"I'm not but you are." Smiling, he glanced back at Warrick as he took his hand to lead him all the way across the ballroom, Grissom said, "Here's hoping you're up for it."

Once inside, Grissom took him to before a woman much older than most of the crowd. She had to be in her seventies, but was elegantly slim, perfectly coiffed and made up, expensively attired and had the attractive remnants of a fragile beauty that must have astonishing in her youth. She was sitting on a satin sofa, graciously holding court over approximately ten people thronged about her, all seeming part of a worshipful entourage. Warrick recognized her immediately, came to a halt and moaned, "Oh no, oh, no, oh no. This's all going too quick.""

Evidently having heard him, her voice issued forth from her encampment on a raised platform as she leaned forward with her arms extravagantly spread out while she called to him, proving she had excellent hearing, "No, Warrick, you darling, darling child, this is actually not going quick enough. Please don't look so put out at me being here. It's me, myself and I and it's simply loverly to be seeing you again."

Helena Portland was the fifth richest woman in the whole country, having married a succession of elderly multi-millionaires or billionaires whom she had eventually divorced or had conveniently died. "It is I, dear boy, the errant one who so erroneously threatened to have you fired until I fell in love with those remarkable eyes of your, that sexy walk of yours and that voice of yours that can make a woman cream her pants. Come on over here and give us a kiss, you sweet thing, you."

Shaking his head the whole time, Warrick moved to obey.

As soon as she had gotten her kiss, Mrs. Portland clasped her hands in delight and spread her arms wide, giving Warrick the brightest smile. Then she waved hugely for him to come from behind to the front of her little throne area as she gaily cried out to her followers, "Oh, my good people, this is the young man I've been telling you so much about!! He's the one who deliciously dressed me down on an occasion when I had forgotten my manners and attempted to toss my name and money around to get what I wanted. Even knowing exactly who and what I thought I was; and really am, may I add; he absolutely was not having it. Forthrightly reminding me of my true station in this world, which may be atop a monetary heap but nowhere else in the scheme of what's really important, he did what nobody had done to me since childhood. He shut me up. As all of you well know, it takes a very special person to come close to doing that to me. I allow no one to put me in my place except myself. However, Warrick did that and did it with impressive style. I have totally adored him ever since."

"The fact that he's as handsome as an Ethiopian god, said to have exceptional skills in the boudoir and is built like a brick shit house only serves to increase my adoration." She rose and gave Warrick a perfect curtsey. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Warrick Brown, hopefully a brand new, shiny penny addition to our little gatherings." She curved her arms outward, spreading them to include everyone in the ballroom. "Mr. Warrick Brown, we welcome you among us."

Smile growing by the second, she reseated herself and industriously gave a twinkling dismissal to those closest to her with fluttering fingers, saying while studiously peering about herself, "Breathing room, we must have breathing room." As soon as a satisfactory area had been cleared out, she held out a hand to Warrick and told him to, "Come sit with me, Warrick, as I tell of our coming together." Feeling mildly embarrassed but with Grissom giving him a slight push forward, Warrick slowly climbed the dais to sit next to the queen bee. Saying in apparent opposition to her just shooing everyone away, "Gather around, my good people, while I give you a most glorious, once upon a time tale," she patted Warrick's hand, sat delightfully straight up and began like a fifth grader reciting a lesson.

"Everyone must remember the sad occasion of my grandson's kidnapping about a year and a half ago, I'm sure. It had me quite beside myself. At the start, we paid the kidnappers what they asked, but it was not enough. Rather than give my grandson back, they asked for more money. It was then we went to the police. The first thing they did, rather than offering sympathy, was to inform myself and my family of the awful mistake we had made by trying to bargain with the kidnappers ourselves rather than calling them in from the start. That, of course, got my back up against everyone from the department. Whether they were in uniform or not. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. But, I had to. I was in despair about my grandson. Someone had to get him back for me and I had to depend only these people tramping about my home to do that for me."

Sending a very frisky smile at Grissom, she said, "When your fine young criminalist here came out to my house, Gil, which was the crime scene, I was unpardonably rude to him. He patiently tolerated my discourteous behavior as long as he could, then told me off in no uncertain terms. To this day, although the circumstances were still in a possibly tragic stage at the time, my children laugh at how none of them had ever seen anyone silence me as effectively and quickly as your Warrick Brown did that day. Now, you can't go reprimanding him about this, for he came back later and apologized. That was after he had all the information he could gain, a task my badgering him had been effectively preventing him from doing, not to mention compromising the crime scene every time I stepped foot in it, as he explained to me when he returned."

She put a hand to her lips, becoming graver as she recalled the days when her grandson had been missing. "By then, I... had cracked under the strain and burst into tears while he was apologizing. It had brought out all the chickenhearted sobs and anxiety I'd been able to hold back until then. Warrick let me cry on his shoulder, soak it with an ocean of tears. He calmed and comforted me, then listened to me rant and vent for hours about my entire life without complaint while giving excellent advice about certain matters which will remain private between the two of us.

"But, ladies and gentlemen, the most incredibly astounding thing is, he let me curl up and go to sleep in his arms as I hadn't done with anyone since my third husband's unfortunate demise. When I next awakened, it was late morning and he had sat there the whole time just holding me, keeping me safe. What's more when I, aching for human contact, spontaneously kissed him, he unreservedly kissed me back as if I was young, beautiful and vibrant again. He made me feel like a complete woman, a sexual being as I had not in many a year. It was as if we had been longtime lovers, as now I very dearly wish we had been and still were.

"What made it almost perfect was I'd been awakened by the telephone. My indispensable and faithful Conchita excitedly arrived at a most inopportune moment. That prevented Warrick from providing me with any additional comfort, which I had been very much looking forward to, let me tell you. But she came to inform me it was the FBI calling to tell me my grandson had been found healthy and alive. I later learned it had because of evidence Warrick had collected that he was saved. Because of all of that, this man has my heart, ladies and gentlemen, he absolutely has my entire heart," she concluded, dramatically closing her eyes and squeezing Warrick's hand while gently banging her other fist against her own breast.

When she opened her eyes, there was steel in them as she added, "Therefore, as his sponsor, I now nominate him for membership into our fine organization. I am aware of the standards for membership, since I was there when they were established and helped write them. I'm also aware this invitation being extended to Warrick, coming to us as he is as the partner of a current member, is unique in our history. He doesn't possess the professional standing or wealth of other members. Still, I have no qualm in saying Warrick, despite his youth, past history as a gambler and living a less than traditional lifestyle unfamiliar to the majority of us and lack of financial resources will make all of that immaterial. That also applies to his currently being a lowly paid civil servant and his status as the first African-American to receive an invitation from us. Strike and disregard all of the above, because he has the promising capacity to achieve each and every one of our standards of membership. With Mr. Grissom and his mentor's instructive guidance, I have every assurance he will learn and abide by them.

"That said, I include the guarantee of I shall brook no opposition on my decision to sponsor him. Those wishing to oppose me will feel my wrath, which will include kicking their lily white ass all the way to Clifton, Mississippi, my hometown. Thereupon, rest assured, as soon as your ass has arrived there, I'll be waiting to kick it all the way back to Las Vegas. I shall also put all my extensive monetary means to the mission of breaking the financial back of any shithead with the impudence to disagree with me. In conclusion, let us all hope I have made my unambiguous and irreversible position clear on this matter."

Never one to bring a party down for long, Helena Portland then laughed prettily, purposely lightening the mood. She sent her perky smile at Grissom once more but with still with that steel in her eye as she said to him, "Honestly, Gil, your Warrick Brown is just that gorgeous. If I were thirty years younger, I'd take him from you, I swear I would. You'd best watch out, for I might, nevertheless, make the attempt, irregardless of the difference in our ages."

Her spiel completed, she stood to delicately step down the steps of the dais, a path being silently cleared for her. Continuing to hold onto to Warrick's hand, she walked him back to Grissom, saying as she went, "Now I shall cede to the evening's entertainment. Its beginning shall provide us with the pleasure of Warrick as its centerpiece."

Smiling as she reached for Grissom's hand and transferred Warrick's into it, she said to Warrick, "I now turn you over to your mentor, who will supervise your initiation." Turning gracefully and abruptly on her six inch high spike heels to face a heavy red curtain behind which was a stage, she clapped her hands sharply and cried, "Let the entertainment begin!!!"

Immediately, every light in the ballroom was turned off to leave it in candlelit semi-darkness as the curtain began to open. There was the ominous crack of a whip as a female voice familiar to both Grissom and Warrick snapped commandingly, "Gilbert Grissom!! Warrick Brown!! You have entered my dominion!! Come forth and attend you to the mistress of your destiny!!"

"What the hell?" Warrick said wonderingly, looking at the stage as the curtains parted to reveal Lady Heather, in full leather and lace dominatrix gear, standing in a shimmering spotlight with the aforementioned whip in her hand.

Wreathed by the silvery mist of a fog rising from unknown quarters, she strolled sinuously to the edge of the stage, knelt and leaned forward, lending much confident exposure to the lushness of a creamy chest, smiling while holding out a hand to the two men and purring, "Come to me, gentlemen. Take your place up here in submission to my every wish and be in compliance to them for your, mine and all of our lovely friends' great pleasure."

Warrick was rooted to the spot and Grissom had to tug on his hand to make him walk forward. In obedience to the tug, Warrick followed him to the stage, too stunned to worry about what might be forthcoming. Backing up and curving her hand to indicate they should come further onto the stage, as soon as she stopped and they reached her, Lady Heather used the handle of her whip to tap each man on the shoulder and order, "Kneel to me in supplication."

After the two well dressed men had gone onto their knees, as they customarily did when so commanded by her, Lady Heather bent over each, lifted their chin with the whip's butt to gently kiss them in turn. Then she began to stride powerfully cross the stage, her heels clicking, saying to the now highly attentive crowd, "I appear before you who have been chosen to receive the honor of my attendance among you. Know you well, my personal attentions are an honor given to only a select few. Think you not that you will be so honored again anytime in the near future. I come before you due to friendship with Gilbert Grissom and Warrick Brown. I come as the mentor of Warrick Brown. He has learned much under my tutelage. I find him acceptable to learn much more."

She turned slowly and speared Warrick with cold eyes that were in chilling competition with her warm smile. "I come tonight to make him acceptable to you." Having said that, she began striding back and forth over the small, circular stage again. "Warrick Brown has exceptional talents, some of which I hope he will be willing, in time, to share with you in privacy or, as I'd prefer, before all of us. I have known him for over ten years and had the immense gratification of experiencing them for myself on numerous occasions, although not so often, I'm quite sure, as Gilbert Grissom has. This night, he will share a portion of those talents with you."

Alarmed by her words, Warrick, he and Grissom keeping theirs heads bowed as Lady Heather had taught them during more private sessions, whispered to Grissom with a note of panic in his voice, "What the fuck is she going to make me do, Gil?"

"Nothing you can't handle," Grissom whispered back.

"Warrick, my friends," Lady Heather was saying, "is a man with music in his soul. He writes, sings and plays that which is in his heart. Tonight, he shall reveal that to us." Halting, she napped her whip and called stage right, "Bring forth the seat of honor and the call to arms."

Two barefooted men wearing only a g-string and leather straps crisscrossing their upper bodies came out carrying a tall, large, red satin wingback chair which they set in the middle of the stage. A third gave her a cordless microphone. Then all three men backed off the stage, bowing to Lady Heather as they retreated. Another spotlight came up to focus on the chair. Lady Heather's spotlight followed her as she moved to stand before Gil, tap him on the head with the whip and tell him to, "Rise, Gilbert Grissom, and take the seat of honor."

After Grissom had obeyed her, she walked to stand in front of Warrick and say, "You may rise as well, Warrick Brown." As he stood up, Warrick, hearing the formally dressed band that was all in black and which had been playing for the crowd all evening, strike up notes he knew very well. They were from a song he had written himself and once played for Lady Heather on a keyboard as both had been relaxing in the nude in her bedroom. His glance toward the band earned him a none-too-gentle whack on the shoulder with the whip's handle as Lady Heather hissed, "It is only to ME that your eyes will turn, Warrick Brown, without previously given permission. Have I not trained you better?"

Warrick dropped his head and said quietly, "Forgive me, mistress. I forgot myself."

She rapped him a second time and snapped, "Do not do so again." Circling him, she said to him, voice conversational again, "Now, for the edification, education and entertainment of those who are courteously welcoming you among them, you will now sing to your lover, Warrick Brown. You will do it well. You will do it from your heart. You will make me proud." After saying that, she closed in on him rapidly and, peering up into his face, delivered the soft, deadly purr of, "If you do not, greater than you can possibly imagine, will the punishment given unto you."

Then she faced the audience. "At your signal and with your permission, Madame Portland, shall we begin this evening's entertainment."

Helena Portland promptly stood and cried, "Sing for us, Warrick!! Sing for your lover!! Show us what you're made of!!"

Lady Heather left the stage, leaving Warrick and Grissom alone on it. Gazing down on Gil, holding his eyes with love in his own, Warrick began smiling, swaying to the dark, jazzy beat while he waited for his cue to begin singing. He hit the first note perfectly, beginning softly but becoming louder as he gained confidence. Much to Grissom's surprise, having never really heard him sing outside of the shower or when he was doodling on his keyboard, he had a smooth baritone dripping with sensuality. His movements, as he began to circle Grissom's chair, leaning down to whisper in his ear, ruffle his hair, caress his face or kneel to run his hands possessively over Grissom, were wholly sexual, the long, lean, lithe body seeming to be incapable of making a less than graceful motion.

Warrick and Grissom, increasingly and lustfully entranced by each other's nearness, totally forgot about the invisible crowd beyond their spotlight. But all of them were soon on their feet, moving forward as a unit to get a better look at the action on the stage. They had also begun swaying in time to the lust inspiring sensuousness of the original song, many beginning to sing along in a murmur with Warrick as they picked up on its chorus.

Lady Heather stood to the side smiling, piercing eyes taking in everything, very pleased with the preliminaries of the artful musical diversion she had arranged for the club's entertainment. Just before Warrick came to the end of his song, she came back onto the stage accompanied by two men and two women dressed as skimpily as the men were, breasts fully revealed, all of them moving only in obedience to the crack of her whip and voice.

Warrick finished, but the music continued, Warrick's song in his voice now coming from unseen speakers as Lady Heather took the microphone from him. A rectangular frame approximately eight feet in height and six feet in width with leather cuffs dangling from the upper side of the frame was being brought onto the stage. That considerably racked up Warrick's level of apprehension. Then, as the women began taking Warrick's clothes off him, startling him into resistance, Lady Heather stepped close, gently stuck his cheek with the handle of her whip before biting lightly on the lobe of his left ear and restating in a whisper, "Make me proud."

After glancing down at Grissom to see him smiling reassuringly from where he still sat, Warrick swallowed the protest he had been about to make and allowed the women to strip him down to silk boxers. They even removed his socks and shoes. After finishing, they walked him to the frame and lifted his arms so two of the men could put Warrick's wrists and ankles in the thickly padded cuffs. Then the women came back to coat him from head to foot, playing close attention to the fully revealed six pack of his torso, with the warmth of a sweet smelling oil. Even sliding their hands down into and up into his boxers, the women left no inch of him uncovered.

As the women massaged the oil into Warrick, Lady Heather told him, "No more shall you speak until you have received that permission from me." She looked down at Grissom. "Nor shall you." Then lifting her eyes back to Warrick's face, she said "If either of you speak or move during the reminder of the initiation, you fail me and fail yourselves. Gil Grissom, proof of my disapproval shall be great. So it shall also be with you, Warrick Brown. You shall also be shown the door and never allowed to return among us. Am I clearly understood?"

Both men merely said, "Yes, mistress."

After the women were done highlighting Warrick's slim physique, they and the men left the stage, preceding Lady Heather off it as she bid them, backing away and prostrating themselves before her. With Lady Heather and her employees departure, Grissom and Warrick were, once again, alone on the circular, marble stage. But only momentarily so, because the crowd was beginning to come up on it from both sides.

Warrick kept his eyes connected to Gil's, with Grissom's boring back into his, as only charter and first tier members of the club, not their companions for whom this was not allowed, surrounded him. Softly murmuring in admiration, they began to touch him, gently caressing and stroking him, some with colorful peacock feathers Warrick was hard put not to jerk away from as they tickled him. The most garish, sexual commentary and observations were being made openly about his taut muscularity. Those, along with bold remarks about the commendable size of his genital packaging, completely shocked him. At first, he had thought he would be too nervous to become sexually excited. That was proving not to be the case. With Grissom's nearness, which always now got to him, and the sexual desires of the crowd pressing down on him, burgeoning evidence of his own arousal was visibly and proudly tenting his silk shorts.

That was causing several of those about him to express curiosity about how he might handle such a marvelous genetic endowment in the bed chambers. Others were expressing their interest in becoming a personal recipient of his likely skills. They were inquiring as to whether he might be willing to give them an example of his much discussed proficiency at sexual intercourse. These were questions to which he could not respond, since Lady Heather had instructed him not to speak. That was a fact that had his gratitude.

The hands on inspection and inquisition went on for a quarter of an hour before Lady Heather came back onto the stage and, smiling at Warrick, said for only his ears. "You did well. The both of you have pleased me. Upon our next private gathering, I will show you how much." Turning from him to Grissom, she added, "Gil, have no further doubt of Warrick's acceptance. Helena and I are members of the Coalition Club whose opinions are sought and wishes are readily obeyed. Because we've told them of our desire for their approval of Warrick's membership and the penalty if it is not given, rest assured, it shall be given. All here know they'd do well not to cross either of us. Such a move would not be in their best interest."

She turned away from them, snapped her whip and four of her guys and girls, two from each side, came onto the stage. As they released Warrick from the frame, Lady Heather announced, "the public portion of Warrick Brown's initiation is now complete and successful. For the reminder, he will have the honor and privilege of receiving instructions from me within my private dominion. You may now return to your seats. At the sign from Madame Portland, the matter of Warrick Brown's membership will be put to a vote."

With those words, the crowd retired from the stage. Helena skipped onto the stage to stand next to Warrick with a wide smile on her face while waiting for all of them to sit back down. "You were wonderful," she excitedly whispered to Warrick as she hit Gil on a shoulder. "Grissom, Grissom, Grissom. You've got some kind of man here. Hope you'll do me the honor of letting me get a piece of 'em some time in the near future. I'll make it worth your while." Then, she winked at Grissom and moved front stage to breathlessly hurry the others into their seats.

Although his wrists weren't hurting from the padded cuffs in which he had been placed for such a short time, Warrick was rubbing them, the strangeness of being so bound, outside Lady Heather's Box, still a wonderment to him. Lady Heather said in her professional voice, "Warrick Brown, Gil Grissom, continue to maintain yourselves and your silence as you have been commanded. Gil, you may rise and take your proper place next to your lover."

Once again, she walked down from the stage. Left alone in the center of the spotlight, Grissom and Warrick stood together in silence, side-by-side, to discover the final verdict on Warrick's membership in the Coalition Club.

Helena Portland shouted. "Ladies and gentlemen!! Put this thing to a vote!!"

All of the companions were now milling at the rear of the seated crowd. Those sitting were the definitely rich and possibly famous, charter and first tier members who were only ones allowed to vote. Words were not spoken, but hands were raised. Helena Portland's eagle eyes ripped over the crowd, prepared to fatally nail any member not addressing her previously articulated request for approval. None had the nerve to deny her. Warrick's acceptance was unanimous. Clapping her hands in elation, just as if she had not expected the assured result she had gotten, Helena Portland whirled and ran to Warrick. Bussing first him then a stiffening Grissom on the cheek, she happily yelled out to all under the sound of her voice, "Approval has been given!! Warrick Brown, you are now one of us!! Gil Grissom, take your man to the initiation suite and fuck his brains out!!"

The lights came back on, blinding Warrick and Grissom with their brilliance. The crowd burst into loud applause as a collection of Lady Heather's guys and girls now returned to usher them from the stage. As if it were the olden days of wedding when the first placing of a couple in the marriage bed was a public event, everyone surrounded them to guide them to the initiation suite. That proved to an elegant bedroom in which the hub was a canopied, feather, king sized bed rising on a pedestal. The large, thickly carpeted room had been supplied with a fully stocked bar, an overflowing basket of fruit and other snacks. A small blaze was going in the gas fireplace, candles had been lit, incense was burning and smooth jazz could be heard coming from wall speakers. It was the perfect arena to spend a night making slow love.

Warrick never noticed any of it. The first thing he did after they had been left in privacy was to slam Grissom against a wall and start ripping his clothes from him, crying out almost as if he was in considerable pain, "You're ready for me, right? Please, PLEASE say you're ready for me."

Grissom only smiled indulgently as he watched buttons from his clothing popping off. "I'm ready. I made sure I'd be when I went to get our drinks. Believe me, I knew exactly what the finish of this evening's entertainment was going to be for you and me."

"Outstanding," Warrick whispered hoarsely. Having got Grissom down to just his socks, he turned him to slam him back into the wall, face front. Unable to contain himself another second longer, moaning continuously, he shoved steadily inside Grissom, surging as deep into him as it was possible for him to go. Feeling Grissom flinch at the speed and roughness of the impalement, he tried to slow down and gentle his actions, but could not. So he let it ride, saying softly, pleadingly, ""I'm sorry, Gil, I'm so sorry. I'll make this up to you. But I can't wait, oh Christ Jesus, I just can't wait."

Grissom would have assured him everything was all right and tried to joke about his size if Warrick had not brushed against his prostate, providing concentrated fulfillment to his partner even when he couldn't take the time to do it right. Grissom's hands went spastic on the wall and his previously soft cock sprang to instant attention. Left passionately speechless, he began nearly climbing the wall as Warrick heatedly and rhythmically pounded into him. Thrusting hard, Warrick suddenly cried, "Oh, shit, oh fuck, no, not yet, goddamnit. Please!! Not yet!!"

But, there was no stopping that particular biological urge of his, which was demanding a fast and immediate completion. His arms wrapped around Grissom and he curved his body, plastering it as close to Grissom as he could, shouting out his pleasure, crying out the entirety of Grissom's first name over and over as he never otherwise did as repeated shudders coursed through him and he repeatedly poured all of himself into the man before him.

Sensing that the intensity of his orgasm had brought Warrick to the edge of collapse, Grissom quickly turned and supported him on the way down as he sank to his knees. Whispering as he restlessly caressed Warrick wherever he could reach, "The same thing that's on you is on me. I need you, Warrick. I've got to be in you like you were in me. I know you're tired, but can I? Tell me that I can. I regret my impatience, but my current need is as great as yours was."

Barely able to move, Warrick wearily nodded his head. "Whatever you want, man, whatever you want... It's yours, man. Everything in me is yours whenever and wherever you want it."

"Get on your hands and knees," Grissom urged him. "Can you do that for me?"

That, Warrick could do. Up on all fours, his head hanging down, Warrick shivered as Grissom inserted fingers well coated with the thickness of a special lubricant which had been introduced to them by Lady Heather and that both now preferred. It was sweet smelling, warmed on contact and caused a mild, peppery itch that increased excitement and ardor. Grissom determinedly worked Warrick until he had all four fingers inside him, massaging his prostate to excite him again. Only once he had did he mount Warrick, groaning lingeringly and pleasurably as he easily slid into the younger man.

Grissom had not the sexual experience Warrick had, although Warrick was doing all he could to help him catch up, but he had the wisdom of maturity and a personality built on holding his emotions under a tight rein. Straight up on his knees behind Warrick with his eyes closed, he rode the other man with tenderness, seeking his satisfaction but wishing to length the period of time before reaching it. Rocking quietly and peacefully, he joyously awaited his culmination.

When it came, it came to Grissom without sound, unlike it was with Warrick, who was a verbal lover and could never keep his climaxing silent. Warrick had learned, by the tempo of certain undulations quivering through Grissom's whole body, the exact moment of his achieving all that physical love provided and laughed quietly. As exhausted as he was, he loved being the cause of that. Grissom's gratification always elated him.

Grissom's exhaustion, as soon as he was done, exceeded Warrick's and he collapsed onto the strong back beneath him, kissing whatever part of Warrick his mouth could reach, stroking the firm smoothness of rounded buttocks as the same time as he murmured, "You have a beautiful ass, Warrick. I can't get enough of touching it. I thank God every day that they and you belong to me. If I only," he said wistfully as he squeezed the mounds, "had the endurance to stay inside you for hours and hours and hours, I'd never let you get out of bed."

Afterward, too tired to make it to the bed, they settled down where they were to cuddle and recover with Grissom lying back on Warrick's chest between long legs that were crossed over his lap while Warrick enfolded him in loving arms and laid kisses on his face and ears. Laughing and nipping at Grissom's neck, Warrick said, "Man, I can't get over how long you can last when you put your mind to it. Not for all the money that's up in this joint, can I do that, once I reach a certain point and can't think of anything else except gettin' off."

"Self-control, Warrick. That's only one of the advantages of age you'll learn as time goes on."

"Lookin' forward to it, Gris, lookin' forward to it, cause I'm as embarrassed as hell at how I jumped ya as soon as we got in the room."

"That wasn't entirely your fault. In fact, it wasn't your fault at all. That mist on the stage that Heather uses? It has a definite aphrodesiac quality. I didn't use to believe in such things until I came here, saw how others were affected by it and was affected by it myself. It also provides a sense of relaxation, a loosening up of inhibitions. You might have noticed that."

"Hell, yeah, I did. That is some potent shit. She's never shown it to me before."

Stroking Warrick's arms, Grissom explained, "Oh, she doesn't use it in her private sessions. Apparently, she likes for her clients and friends to have full awareness of every move she makes whenever she's with them on a personal basis. They can't do that if they're too frenzied."

Laughing still, Warrick said, "I can see that. I swear to God, I can see that. Way I was a second ago, if you hadn't been here and they'd told me to get naked and get ready to get fucked orgy style, I would've done it." He began to nip Grissom's ear and lave his tongue into it as he asked, "Did you have an initiation anything like mine?"

"Oh, I was initiated, but not like you were. The initiations play to our strengths. I was given an actual piece of old forensic evidence from a long ago solved case to analyze. It was a partial wall with blood splatter on it from a gunshot victim. I was stripped down to my underwear and ordered by Heather to examine it then give the crowd my hypothesis of the crime and relevant information as to the position of the shooter while three of her ladies were at me with feathers and their hands. Believe me, that made it very difficult to achieve any sort of concentration."

"God," Warrick said, laughing. "Wish I could've been here to see that. So. Whatdaya think of my initiation? Did I do it like you wanted me to do it?"

"You did it to perfection, Warrick. After the inspired remarks I, Heather and Helena, had been making about you, quite a few of the members had begun telling me I should bring you in. That's not to mention several others, Leona included, who've apparently had previously had benefit of your sexual experience."

"Yeahhhh, me and Leona went at it hot and heavy for awhile a few years ago. She's a lady of the night who knows her stuff and has plied her profession well."

"She's a former lady of the night," Grissom corrected. "She and Pete have been one-on-one and living together for about three years now. She was one reason he divorced his wife despite how much that cost him. But their divorce was amiable. She's a Coalition member. I saw her talking to Pete and Leona tonight. She's here with two of the many interchangeable young women and men that live with her and attend LVU with her footing the bill in return for certain sexual services. I have no doubt she'll be another one who'll soon be seeking you for the same. Her hand was one of the first to fly up when they were voting you into the membership."

Warrick grinned, hearing the waspish quality of Grissom's condemnation of any such prospect. "Not a problem, Gris. She won't get a thang unless you've said she can first."

"Then, she likely never will. I'm sure I'll never be up to sharing you with these people. There're too many that might try to take you from me. You don't need to reassure me that'll never happen. I have no doubt about that. But their impatience to get you after everyone had been told your various talents, has never been as great with any other prospective member. The charter members did a background check on you and informed the rest about what they had found, whereupon I was immediately told of the invitation the full membership was extending to you. I'm told that had never happened with such expedience."

"Oh, so that's why so many of 'em knew my name before you even introduced me."

"Precisely. There were a number of members who had never met you but remembered you as a frequent resident of the Strip and the casinos before you joined CSI, so had been previously impressed. Actually, with Heather and Helena backing you, your acceptance from the general membership was a given from the moment you walked through the door. Too many of them are terrified of Helena's steel magnolia ways. That woman looks all flowery, but she's hell on wheel. Helena's known to have run roughshod over some of the most powerful CEO's in the country with never a backward glance. As for Heather, no one wants to be banned from the dominion of the Box. Your sexy singing and the time you spent on the rack was simply the icing on a cake that had already been pretty much baked."

"Well, Gris, thanks for finally letting me in on your secret life."

"I was glad to. It's the only part of my life I hadn't involved you in as yet. I'm relieved I won't have to hide it from you anymore." Grissom stirred, sitting on the floor finally beginning to become uncomfortable for him. "Are you ready to move this to the bed?" he asked. "I may have a bit of excess padding back there, but the floor's still starting to get to my butt."

"Sure." Warrick waited until Grissom had gotten up off him then got to his own feet. "How long do we have the room for? Do we have to be out tonight?"

"No. It's ours for the weekend. It's Friday and these little events last until Sunday evening." He added, arching his eyebrow with the accompaniment of a Machiavellian smile. "Tonight, as the ones being initiated and his partner, we're special, you know. Helena really did mean it when she said I should fuck your brains out and I fully intend to do so."

"I got no problem with that. What will everybody else be doing while we're in here?"

"Oh, they were affected by Heather's mist as much as we were, so are probably having the orgy you said you didn't want to have any part of."

"Oh yeah?" Warrick gave Grissom a wicked grin. "Suppose I'm changing my mind about that?"

Grissom returned a sidelong glance as they walked to the bed. "If you do, make sure you don't do anything with anyone else without my approval and permission. That's one of the unbreakable rules we have for established couples." As he climbed into the bed, he added thoughtfully. "Of course, you and I are in a different situation. You're the first to be admitted to membership without meeting all the usual background criteria but with the potential to acquire it, if an opening is available, which it generally is not. Eventually, you'll be able to refuse to let anyone be with me as much as I can refuse to let them be with you. You're also the first African-American they've ever accepted for full membership."

"Yeah? See there? Affirmative action does work. How else could I have gotten this opportunity?"

Grissom smiled. "I suppose that's one take you could put on it. The majority of couples who are both members had to have individually met every membership criteria before receiving their invitation. For those like you and I who aren't charter or first tier, none of the companions have ever come close to acceptance. They may be very loved, but are still usually here as only a partner, trophy decoration or to provide little more than a sexual connection."

"Then, I appreciate they thought enough of me not to put me in the gold digging, gigolo category. That would've been a bit much. I was starting to get real ticked off at the ones who seemed to be doing that anyway."

"Be complimented, Warrick. I'd never seen anyone come in here who got as much attention, right off the bat, as you did. I've always known I had something special in you and now am going to have to watch out for all the others who know it too." As Warrick joined him and they slipped under the satin comforter to make themselves at home, Grissom asked, "So what do you think of things here, Warrick?"

"Well, it isn't what I expected, but it sure as hell has exceeded my expectations. But that's no big deal," he added as he kissed the side of Grissom's face and they cuddled together to get some sleep. "You do that to me all the fuckin' time."

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