Prettier and Younger But Not Any Better Off (7/8)

[jettblack0110.livejournal.com]

 I'm SO sorry for my laziness, but I finally got the conclusion to my story written!

Title: Prettier and Younger But Not Any Better Off
Author: jettblack0110
Rating: R for violence
Summary: Nick and Greg deal with the bad guys
Spoilers: All episodes to the current season, just to be safe

 

“When this case is over, you both will take a one week suspension. I can’t believe you kept this from me!” Grissom exclaimed, his voice high with disbelief and disappointment. He was sitting behind his cluttered desk, glaring at the doorway to his office. Standing opposite him were two men, their heads bowed in shame. “And then when you get back, there will have to be an IAB investigation into how you handled the case as a result of your relationship. Nick! How could you keep this from me? You could be considered an accomplice to abduction for not reporting the crime! Not to mention the fact that you two have had a relationship for who knows how long. You’ve already experienced how relationships can affect the job, even with people outside the lab.”

“I’m sorry, Griss. I never thought that the fact that me and Greg were together would ever affect our work. They were…they had a gun to his head and I acted like an idiot,” Nick lifted his head in his rebuttal, swallowing down the jibe about Kristy. Greg lifted his as well, turning his head to look at Nick with hooded eyes. Nick glanced at him quickly before turning his gaze back to Grissom. “Can we talk about this later? Those guys are still out there,” he extended an arm, pointing nowhere in particular.

Grissom stared at both of them for a long moment, his eyes darting from the injured lab tech to the sheepish Texan. The moment was incredibly tense; Nick and Greg instinctively shifted closer to each other as Grissom stared them down. They could almost see the cogs turning in under his grey hair and the simmering embers in his eyes under the thin wire frames of his glasses as he decided what to do with them. He could very well send them home right now, they had violated lab protocol and kept the superior member of the case out of the loop concerning developments that could lead to an arrest. Grissom had a right to be angry, Nick and Greg knew that. Finally the deafening silence was broken. “I found something on one of the cars I was examining. Greg, you remember the purple poker chip you found in that car vent?”

Greg’s head snapped up, a surprised look painted across his features. He was sure that Grissom would just send them home. But now he was carrying on as if nothing had happened. “Yeah, it was the white sedan, right?”

“Right. I fumed the whole car. We don’t have a database for the print I found.”

“What are you saying?” Nick chimed in.

“I found a full body print across the hood of the car.” Silence fell over the three men. Nick took the picture from Grissom’s hand. Sure enough, in the eerie white color of fumed oil, water, and proteins was a torso shaped pattern horizontal across the hood of the car. Greg leaned over Nick’s shoulder and eyed the picture with a look of disgust.

“That’s where they raped him,” Greg said in a quiet voice. “Did you find any other prints?”

Grissom frowned and then pursed his lips together. “No,” he said grimly, hating to admit defeat. “These guys cleaned up well. They must have known that their DNA wasn’t in CODIS, though, because they left enough of that evidence behind.”

“They probably had informants in the police department or something, they’re stories were pretty believable,” said Nick bitterly. “What I want to know is how they leeched into our law enforcement without having to do a print card and DNA sample.”

“Right now, I wouldn’t put anything past them.” Grissom rose from his swivel chair clutching the case description in his hand. Nick and Greg looked at each other questioningly as their boss passed between them through the maze of shelves. He stopped in front of a bulletin board shaped like a fish and pinned the case file securely to the cork.

“You’re giving up?” Nick all but yelled. It was the Ones Who Got Away board where the case file had found a new home; they had nothing that would lead them to Harper and Rounds.

“Nick, we have nothing. Unless you gathered some evidence I don’t know about, you two better go home,” Grissom replied. Nick turned to Greg, who was staring at the floor with large, frightened eyes.

“Can we just go through what we have one more time? If we all work together, finally, we might be able to come up with something,” Nick begged, hoping he would never again have to see the fear he saw in Greg’s eyes right now. Grissom sighed and scratched his head.

“Meet me in the conference room in ten minutes, and we’ll go over all the evidence. I’m going to go pull the evidence from the other assaults for comparison.”

“Thank you, Grissom. We’ll be there.” The supervisor nodded before walking out of his office. Nick let out a steadying breath and turned toward Greg. His partner swayed slowly where he stood, catching himself before leaning too far. Nick furrowed his brow and wrapped his arms around the young man. “G, are you okay? Is it your arm?” Nick tunneled his fingers through the wilted spikes as Greg exhaled slowly and shakily into his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt grew instantly warm with Greg’s slow breaths, the slight trembling betraying just how close to tears Greg was.

“We have to get them, Nick,” Greg said quietly but resolutely. “If we don’t stop them, they’re just going to keep attacking people.”

Nick pressed his lips to Greg’s temple before murmuring, “I know, G. I’m so sorry this is how things are going, it shouldn’t be like this. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, just a little sore. The Percocet they gave me is working a little too well. I don’t think I’ve felt this loopy since I got out of the hospital after the beating,” Greg said, tipping his face up to look at Nick, a lopsided, wry smile on his lips. Nick hugged him closer and pressed their lips together. Greg relaxed into Nick’s embrace, yielding to the slow kiss with a sigh. The kiss lasted for minutes, days, years: neither man knew. They were lost in each other’s presence, if only for a moment. Nick tightened his grip around his lover, never wanting to let go. He had almost lost Greg because of his stupidity. Nick could not understand; after his kidnapping, he spent a week in the hospital and another two in his bed, refusing to face the world. But the man he held in his arms had not only survived the murder attempt, he also was ready, just hours later, to use his skills to catch the bad guys. That was the difference between him and Greg: Nick tended to dwell and ask why, while Greg moved on and asked why not. Nick was slowly spiraling out of control as the kiss continued. It felt as though he was soaking up Greg’s life force, the incandescent energy, the glowing light that had attracted him to Greg in the first place. Greg was the perfect triangle of yellow flame, and Nick was the hopeless moth. Nick wanted to stay like this forever. But a loud noise sounded from just outside the office, and the two men broke apart, blushes spreading. Standing in the doorway with a pile of case files at his feet was David Hodges.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see the Do Not Disturb sign on the door,” Hodges snarked. “Does Grissom know that you’re besmirching his office?”

“Did you have something for us, Hodges?” Nick asked as Greg backed away and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“You only recovered biological and fingerprint evidence.”

“So what are you still doing here?” The Trace Lab Tech was quiet for a moment as he considered what Nick said.

“I’m avoiding what will momentarily be a heartbroken Mandy and a smarmy Ballistics Tech who will no doubt seek me out to say ‘I told you so.’”

“What are you on about, Hodges?” Greg chimed in.

“It’s common knowledge that Mandy has been after Nick from the beginning, she’ll be devastated to learn that another lab rat beat her out. Bobby Dawson has been saying it for years that you two have a thing. He’s not a modest winner.”

“You guys talk about us?” Nick asked incredulously.

“Greg should know, when the CSI’s are away the lab rats will play. Gossiping about your lives, however pathetic they are, is how we pass the day,” Hodges whined in his slightly nasally, tired voice. Nick looked at Greg, and Greg gave a slight shrug.

“It’s true. When I was still in the DNA lab, gossip about Cath and Warrick, and Griss and Sara was our bread and butter. I guess the second you step out of the lab you become a victim to the lab rat gossip column.” The last sentence was directed towards Hodges with a hint of accusation.

“Don’t look at me. It was your choice to leave the lab and get your ass kicked.”

“Get lost, Hodges,” Greg said menacingly, his mood changing instantaneously. Hodges quirked his humorless, cold smile before scooping up his files and scurrying off to no doubt tell the newest gossip to the other lab techs. “Come on, Nick. Grissom probably has already solved the case,” Greg muttered. He began to walk out of the office, but Nick grabbed his hand and pulled him back.

“Hey now, what’s this?” Nick asked holding Greg’s hands in his own. Greg sighed and avoided Nick’s eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing. What just happened?”

Greg was silent for a moment. Nick watched as the muscles in his jaw bunched and relaxed. “Maybe I just didn’t want to hear the truth from Hodges.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why did Grissom pass me?”

Nick knew where this was going. “He passed you, G, because you’re a good CSI.”

“A good CSI,” Greg echoed. “But not a great CSI. I haven’t solved a case. I got my ass kicked. I took a life to save a life. The department threw me under the bus to cover its ass.”

“That’s bullshit, Greg, and you know it. What about the Lois O’Neil case? You blew that PanAm heist right out of the water—“

“I had help—“

“And the casino Indian—“

“Only because I knew some history—“

“And before you even became a CSI, that case where we sent you to find a soda bottle and you came back with the cop uniform—“

“Yeah but you guys—“

“Shut up, Greg,” Nick snapped. Greg’s mouth hung open in mid-speech. “Grissom wouldn’t have passed you if you weren’t worth something to this team. You are part of our family now, and nothing will change that. If I ever hear you say something like this again, I will lock you in a room with Hodges. Make you appreciate what you are a little more. Now let’s go see what Grissom is up to.”

Nick led a stunned Greg by the hand through the glass labyrinth of the lab to the conference room where Grissom had set up the case files. Photographs were methodically organized in sequential order, and each case had a corresponding colored thumb tack pinned on a map of the Strip indicating where the victim had been found. Grissom looked up as they walked in and removed his glasses.

“What’s the matter, Greg?” he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Greg, who had been drug along in a state of shock, snapped his mouth shut. “Long night,” he grunted in reply before turning to stare at the man who had metaphorically hit him over the head with a ton of bricks. Nick stared steadily back with a small smile before turning to the table and examining the photographs.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Nick said. “Peter Bourgalt, attacked two weeks ago. Found in a garage three blocks from the Monte Carlo. His assault consisted of battery and object rape. No biological evidence, but we did find a print on his belt buckle.”

“Well that doesn’t get us anywhere,” Grissom began. “I assume nothing came up in AFIS.” Nick shook his head. “Who’s next?”

“Patrick Greene, attacked a week ago found in a different parking garage, this one six blocks from the Monte Carlo. He was beaten and sexually assaulted, but just barely penetrated. The perpetrator left no prints, but there were some hairs.”

“Have we matched the hair to the saliva we found?”

“I’ll have Wendy process it now. Okay, Eric Brown, found five days ago in the same parking garage as the first victim. We found both biological and fingerprint evidence, but nothing conclusive. His condition was the same as Greene’s.”

“So far the only thing that is linking these crimes is the location,” Grissom sighed. “Nick, I’m not seeing anything new.”

“I don’t know, Griss. I feel like we’re missing something.”

“Greg, you’re quiet. Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

Greg’s head snapped up in surprise. He had been staring at the pictures of the victims in the hospital as well as the map of the Strip. “Nick, do you know which bar the last victim went to?” Nick shook his head. “I think they all went to the same bar. Do you know any details about the bar?”

“Yeah, he said it was a gay bar, not far from the Monte Carlo.”

“That’s it then. The bar must be where Harper finds the victims. Look,” Greg said, laying the four case photos in a row, “Each victim has a black stamp on his hand. That must be a stamp to get into the bar. We just have to find which bar uses this stamp, which gay bar not far from the Monte Carlo uses this stamp, and we might find them.” Nick and Grissom crowded around Greg to stare at the photos. Sure enough, each victim bore a large black smudge on the backside of a hand.

“What is it shaped as?” Grissom wondered aloud. Nick picked up the nearest picture and held it closer to his face, squinting slightly.

“It looks like a crown to me,” Nick said, “Here, take a look, this one is less smeared.” He handed the photo to Grissom, who confirmed Nick’s conclusion.

“Do you think the crown relates to the name of the bar?” Grissom asked. Both Nick and Greg shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out. Greg, bring up all the bars within a ten block radius around the Monte Carlo.” Greg pecked in the specifications as Grissom recited them, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard of the laptop.

“There are almost forty bars, Griss.”

“Okay, now eliminate all the bars that aren’t gay bars.” Greg nodded and typed in the new data.

“Were down to five, all within six blocks of the Monte Carlo.”

“Do any have the word ‘crown’ in their names?” Greg shook his head.

“No, just really cliché names: Midnight, Blackout, Ray’s, Velvet, and Alexander’s. We’re going to have to go to each of them and see what stamp they use for admission,” Greg sighed, resting his head in his hand.

“No we won’t,” Nick said suddenly.

“Nick, none of the names suggest that a crown stamp is used, this is the next best thing,” Greg replied insistently, lifting his head to look at his lover. Nick was staring at the laptop screen with a gleam of triumph in his eyes.

“Greg, you didn’t mention that one of the titles was in Spanish.”

“What now? None of the names were Spanish.”

“Yes,” Nick said, pointing. “Rey’s. It’s spelled with an ‘e’, not an ‘a’. Rey means ‘king’ in Spanish. And what does a king wear?” Greg opened his mouth slowly, but said nothing. Grissom smiled with satisfaction and flipped his phone open.

“Brass, we need backup at Rey’s bar. Yeah, that’s the one, near the Monte Carlo. Suspects should be considered armed and dangerous. We’ll meet you there.” Grissom hung up the phone and turned to his case partners. “Greg, I need you to stay here and inform Ecklie of our whereabouts. Nick, let’s go.” With this order, Greg leapt out of his chair, wrenching his wound a bit.

“Grissom! I’m not staying here!” he yelled. “I need to see these guys put away!”

“Greg, you’re injured. You’ve done enough for this case, you can do nothing more.” Greg received the comment like a physical blow. It was confirmation of the fear that had been growing at the back of his mind. His supervisor had realized that all Greg was good for was getting beat up, and now Greg would never be allowed to leave the lab again. Greg turned his back on the two others, willing himself not to cry in front of Nick.

“Grissom, I’m injured too,” Nick’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere unexpectedly. Greg stopped walking and lifted his head a little, listening hard.

“You’re injured? Where?”

“Harper kicked me. I’m pretty sure he cracked a rib.” Greg turned around, surprise writ plainly on his face.

“You hid it from me,” Greg said grimly. “I didn’t know—“

“I didn’t want you to. I was more concerned about you, and this case,” Nick replied. “I had some Vicodin,” he added as an afterthought.

“Where did you get it?”

“Leftovers, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not in pain, and I’m going. Greg is going too,” he said to Grissom. The supervisor looked from one CSI to the other hesitantly, so Nick began speaking again. “Grissom, no one else is acquainted with this case. Both Greg and I have spoken to the perps. What if I let them think I’ve gotten them off, get a confession for the assault cases? They won’t take it from anyone but me. And Greg has the right to nab these guys, he’s done more than either of us.” The Texan had taken a step toward his supervisor, using his height and brawn to loom over the older man. Grissom was unyielding as he looked into blazing brown eyes. He sighed and waved his hand acquiescently.

“Alright, Nicky. But you talk to them, Greg stays with Brass. I don’t want to compromise his injury.” Nick let out a puff of air he did not realize he was holding, and nodded his head tersely. “Meet you both at the car in five minutes.” Grissom stalked out of the room shaking his head, leaving Nick looking to Greg, whose expression was akin to a deer in the headlights.

“Nick, I—“ Greg stammered, “You—not necessary—injured—“

“Greg, you have just as much right as I do to see these guys arrested, I wasn’t about to let Grissom forget that.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I know I can’t do anything to help.”

“What did I say about that attitude?” Nick asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Greg looked at him with doleful eyes. “Sorry. Come on, Grissom is probably waiting for us.” He walked away forlornly, hand rubbing the back of his neck and eyes glued to the floor. Nick was about to call after him, but thought better of it, figuring he would talk to Greg after they caught the bad guys. Nick walked after the man he loved and readied himself to interact calmly with two people he would rather dismember.

------

Greg drew in a deep breath as he and Nick stood in a dark parking lot next to the Denali. Several plainclothes cop cars were parked next to them, and roughly ten burly police officers were receiving orders from Captain Brass. All were armed with their 9 mm pistols, bulletproof vests, and stony expressions as Brass explained the nature of the case they were currently assigned. When Brass finished, he turned to Nick, Greg, and Grissom.

“Bouncer says a man with a bump on the head and a man with a bandaged nose rented out the private room of the club. He said they had a friend when they went in there, so I’m treating this as a hostage situation as of now. The room is straight back from the front door,” he directed to Nick. “Did you get hooked up?”

Nick nodded and lifted his shirt to reveal a miniscule microphone taped across his abdomen.

“Nick, you don’t have to do this, we have negotiators on hand,” Brass said.

“No, Jim, it’s something I need to do. If we can get the victim out and get a confession to the other assaults, we’ll have enough with Greg’s kidnapping to put these guys away for life.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. My guys will be right outside the room if something should go wrong. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I just need a second,” Nick said, putting on a brave smile. Brass and Grissom walked away, arguing about where the police officers would be placed. Nick turned to Greg. He was at a loss for words, gauging the unpredictability of how the current stint would play out.

“Greg, I—“ Nick began, but his mouth was stopped by Greg’s, as the younger man kissed him forcefully.

“If you get killed, Nick Stokes, I’ll kill you,” Greg said grimly. “Please, baby, be careful. Harper has a short temper, and that Rounds guy is huge.” Nick was taken aback. He slid his fingers through the bleached hair like silk. Looking to lighten the mood a little, he replied.

“I won’t let them do anything to me. You owe me a blowjob, remember? No way would I miss out on that. Don’t worry.” He cupped Greg’s chin and pulled him into another kiss, thankful for the shelter of the Denali that was currently shielding them from view. Greg’s hand balled Nick’s shirt and he pulled him closer, and Nick held Greg closer.

“Nick!” Brass’ voice cut through the air. “We’re ready.” Nick pulled away from Greg’s lips, letting his thumb wander from the round chin to the full bottom lip of his lover. Nothing more was said, and with a small peck, Nick was gone, leaving Greg sick with fear.

-------

“You’re tellin’ me that there ain’t any cops waitin’ to arrest us? We’re home free?” Clark Harper asked Nick skeptically.

“Not even a post-it note with a list of your crimes survives,” Nick replied stiffly, watching the blonde man nervously. The second he walked into the private room of the club, he was met with the brute strength of Ted Rounds holding him against the wall as he took Nick’s gun. He was then marched to a chair where he was now sitting, Rounds’s large hands pinning his shoulders against the back of the chair. Harper had not moved from his spot on the sofa as all this transpired, although his eyes constantly flicked to a corner of the room. At Nick’s first glance, he thought someone had just passed out from alcohol, but Nick realized that this was a new victim. Drinking did not give one bruises the size of cantaloupes or a gruesome pool of blood. No, they were too late to prevent another beating; Nick only hoped they had held off on the rape at this point. He turned back to the conversation.

“Like I said, you’re free, I did what I promised. You will not even be connected to the assaults of Aaron Jones, Peter Bourgalt, Patrick Greene, and Eric Brown,” Nick droned.

A smile grew on Harper’s face. “We taught those boys the errors of their sinful ways.”

Inside, Nick wanted to scream with happiness. He had gotten the confession to put these guys away forever. But on the outside, his face remained expressionless. “Whatever, man. Just letting you know. I’m going back to the lab now, maybe you should get out of Vegas.” He moved to rise from the chair, but Rounds pushed him back down promptly.

“Not so fast, Stokes. I have a little bone to pick with you.”

“What more could you possibly want?”

“Like I told little Greggo, you’re one of them.” Nick bristled slightly when Harper used the familiar, lovable nickname.

“It’s not your place to punish us, Harper,” Nick growled. He tried to rise again, and this time Rounds ground his fist into Nick’s broken ribs. Nick gasped and sat heavily in the chair.

“Teddy, find somethin’ to block the door. I have a feelin’ Stokes wasn’t bein’ as truthful as he said.” Rounds left Nick heaving in the chair and flipped a heavy chrome table to its side before placing it in front of the door. Nick blinked the tears out of his eyes and looked up at Harper. He was staring down the barrel of a gun. Though it was not the first time, the fear was always breathtaking. The years before, he only feared for his life. When the guilt-crazed wife held him at gunpoint, when Nigel Crane threatened him, he was afraid of dying. But now it was so much more. It was the fear that he would die, yes, but also that he would leave the one thing he cared about more than his own life. The one person. He could not bear to leave Greg.

So Nick relaxed into the chair and took a deep, shuddering breath. And that was when a skylight shattered and admitted a body into the room, falling to the floor with a thud and a curse. Immediately Rounds lifted the form up, thrusting it into the light. Nick knew, though, even before he saw the face, that it was Greg.

“Well isn’t this nice,” Harper drawled, “One big happy family.” The man finally rose from his sitting position, keeping his gun trained on Nick as he eyed Greg struggling in Rounds’s grip. Nick turned to look as well, catching Greg’s eye. In the chocolate orbs he saw embarrassment but also a blazing wrath, hatred so deep that Nick swore he could feel the heat rolling of Greg in waves. Harper walked over to Greg slowly. He looked to Nick threateningly before lowering the gun. Instead of pointing it at Nick, he pressed it under Greg’s chin to lift his head up. “Miss me, Greggo?” he asked mockingly.

Nick stood quickly, his anger flaring violently. Harper glared. “I could just shoot him, you know. It would be far worse than the punishment I have planned.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Nick said. And then he turned to the door. “Now, Brass!” he bellowed. A split second later there was pounding at the door as the police officers tried to get in. Harper and Rounds looked over, and that was when Nick pounced. He rammed his shoulder into Harper’s side, sending the gun flying and both men to the floor. Greg threw his elbow into the solar plexus behind him, relishing the grunt of pain he earned. His arms were freed and he turned around to face his captor.

Nick and Harper rolled on the floor, fists flying as fast as the curses, as the police battered at the door. Greg dodged swift uppercuts and hooks from his huge assailant, using his nimbleness to outrun the behemoth. Nick got a lucky shot on Harper’s broken nose, allowing him to gain the advantage. But then Harper slammed his fist into Nick’s ribs. They rolled again and Harper was on top. He swung his fist, and Nick caught his wrist, holding it tightly. The same happened with the other, and the men were locked in a measure of strength. It seemed an eternity that they stayed matched with each other, but soon Harper began to push Nick’s arms downward. Feeling he was about to overcome Nick, Harper leaned down. “I’m going to take that boy with me, and he’ll wish he’d never been born,” he growled sadistically in Nick’s ear.

The hatred grew to such an intensity in that moment that Nick felt he was going to explode. With unknown strength, Nick crashed the crown of his head into Harper’s temple. Harper fell to the side, unconscious. Nick lay on the floor for a moment, gasping in painful breaths as his cracked ribs screamed painfully. He then remembered he was not the only one engaging in hand to hand combat and leapt up. Greg was trapped in a corner, breathing hard, as Rounds closed in on him.

“Hey!” Nick yelled, distracting the man so Greg could get away. Instead of running, Greg threw a massive roundhouse kick, catching Rounds right on the chin. The giant man crashed to the floor, down for the count. Nick gaped at Greg, his Greg, who had just kicked a beast into submission.

Greg looked a little embarrassed but also a little pleased. “I guess the kickboxing lessons did come in handy,” he said with a small shrug. “Is the victim okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said, walking over to the prostrate form of the new victim. Greg joined him as he pressed his fingers to the carotid artery of the man, relieved that there was a pulse. “We need to get the paramedics in here. See if you can elevate his head, I’m going to unblock that door.” Nick watched as Greg took his jacket off and balled it under the unconscious man’s head. He walked to the table blocking the door, and carefully threw his weight against it.

“We’re not finished here, Stokes,” came a crazed voice. Harper, it seemed was not fully unconscious as they believed. He was standing in the middle of the room, his shaking hands clutching the discarded gun. It was pointed right at Nick’s heart. “You’re a walkin’ sin, you and your filthy lover. I will punish you!” Nick watched helplessly as Harper squeezed the trigger, watched as the pistol recoiled. He also saw that Harper fell out of sight. He felt a sharp pain in his torso, and he was on the ground, something heavy resting against him.

Greg laid back against Nick, gasping raggedly, Nick’s gun laying limply in his hand and a crimson stain spreading quickly on the right side of his shirt. Nick’s throat constricted as he realized Greg had been shot in the chest.

Comments

[seether-79.livejournal.com]

O My God!!!! Poor Greggo. I hope he is okay. A really wonderful chapter lovely, I was so happy to see this up-date :)Great as always.

[irishjeeper.livejournal.com]

No! Poor Greg can't get a break from the abuse can he?

Can't wait for the next chapter!

Amazing story!

[(Anonymous)]

I absolutely love your story, I started reading it yesterday and was thrilled to see that you updated! But what a cliffhanger! You almost gave me a heartattack.
Hope you update soon and please don't be too hard to the boys they need each other and I need them too ;-)

[nodense.livejournal.com]

Phwah!
This is a really good story. I hope you update soon! :D