Disclaimer: I wish I would, but I don't own them. Although season one to four on DVD is mine and MINE only.

Author's note: This piece hasn't been betaed yet. So I apologize for wrong wording, typos or grammar. Please RR, it's my first fan fic and I'm not a native speaker. Go ahead, teach me.

Summary: Ecklie enjoys paltering with the team. Now Cath rules, literally. Grissom and Sara get to investigate two dead bodies found in a landslide near Jackpot; concentrating on GSR and team re-bonding. COMPLETE

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Post Unbearable. Definitely Jackpot, but probably a bit of all seasons.

Default Chapter – Lot's Brothers

Built in a narrow picturesque canyon the old mining town of Jackpot could have had all premises of a thriving tourist centre. But somehow they missed that train. Investors failed to discover the beauty of the wilderness and the charm of its surrounding forests and mountains. Just a few tourists on a drive-thu stopping by for food and gas, never for lodging, some hikers and free climb geeks in Summer, that's about it.

Sheriff Alan Brooks liked it though. He did not appreciate much the disturbance and interference of what he called – the outside world – caused by people who did not belong here. He did not like strangers of any kind. Brooks had already enough issues with the locals, kids driving drunk or on drugs, domestic violence, poaching all year round. And dealing with an every year's cutback on budget. He definitely had no need of city slickers loitering.

Brooks normally worked on his own, just supported by two part-time deputies, Eric who worked for his dad in the General Store off duty and Barry, who also functioned as local taxi driver. Both not really smart, but hell, good enough to do their job and he wouldn't have too much of a choice anyway, would he. The younger smart-asses were leaving town to study in Vegas or even going farther headed to L.A. or San Francisco. Attracted by the sun fun shown on TV. They would return later, older, frustrated and disillusioned, ill-guided by false promises, blaming bad fate and "the others", never themselves though. The "I told you so"s from the elderly would drive them mad, no job perspective and an unwillingly pregnant girlfriend, all of the above a perfect mix for all kind of aggressive outburst in a small-town like this.

It had been quiet for a while though, as far as quiet can go in a town of approximately thousand inhabitants and an unemployment rate far above county average. A break and enter in the gas station at last. He smirked. Marty Cooperman would have never allowed him to investigate the matter, anyhow. Case closed. They have been enemies forever. Well, probably not forever but definitely the greater part of their adult life.

Lost in his thoughts Brooks watched the pouring rain. It had been like this for days now. Down south they are desperately waiting for the rain to come and up hear we have so much to spare, he mused. It seemed that all colours had drained out of the picture, a swirling grey in grey expression. Although in the middle of the day traffic were slow. A few trucks driving by with head lights on. One car stopping at the Diner, a guy jumping out to escape the wet encounter. "I think I should Gloria pay a visit", Brooks said to himself, "it's right about time for pie and coffee." He picked up his hat and a dark blue rain jacket with printed "Nevada County Police" on the back.

Brooks was just leaving his office when he heard a dark and threatening rumbling coming from earth itself. The ground began to vibrate. A weird feeling of irritation mixed with simple primal fear overcame the Sheriff. I better run for cover even if I loose my dignity as representative of law enforcement, crossed his mind. But he stood paralized. Hell, I am not going to freak out here. Shivers ran down his back and all his senses were alert, reduced to pure instinct. An earthquake up here? He shook his head, not possible, never happened before. Then it was gone. His pulse still high and visibly shaken he entered the diner. A quick look around showed everything seemed to be normal, some semi-drunk guys shouting at each other, making a bet over a girl they wanted to conquer. Football on TV and some Bruce Springsteen song blaring from the music box in the background. Was it just me or did anyone else recognize this event? Brooks shook his head.

Gloria gave him a concerned look. "Hi Alan, what's up? Encounter with a ghost or a dumped girlfriend from the past? Well, there was just a heck of a heavy load truck passing by, glasses and dishes started dancing on the shelves, did you see it?"

"Nope, not a truck, piece of nature!" he answered.

"Aw, come on, don't go bullshitting on me!" Gloria prompted. "So, what's you want? I can get you coffee and fresh apple pie." The sheriff nodded.

"Yeah, Glory, make it a take-out. I have got to follow a hunch, you know. Something happened around, have to make sure that everything is alright." Without further explanation Brooks picked up his order and left.

His primary white police SUV were parked in front of his office. It had gotten pretty dirty in the last days and he hadn't got it cleaned since this bad weather was not due to change in the next time. Saves time and money, Brooks smirked. Good for the budget, bad for the car though. He entered the unlocked Explorer, nobody would dare to steal the sheriff's vehicle anyway, and drove northbound out of town. He merely followed his instincts when he followed a logging road uphill. The area had already been cleared, mutilated, ripped apart. Although he did not like what 'tree harvesting' did to their environment he had to admit that they were the pretty much the only few job opportunities left in this area.

Brooks shifted into four-wheel drive when the road started to get rougher. The never-ending rain had totally washed out the gravel road, leaving lots of pot holes. They were filled with water, which made it nearly impossible to estimate their depth. But he was used to driving in difficult road conditions and had no problems to deal with it. They did not have much of road maintenance anyway, also an unwelcome effect of several government cut backs.

With a sudden urge Brooks hit the breaks hard and came to a sliding stop, killing the engine. The road was gone, and so was the hill. It seemed that the complete surrounding had been rearranged by some frantic terra formers. He grabbed his binoculars and looked up to what was left from above. Rain and erosion did their worst to the uncovered soil. A raging stream of mud and debris must have headed downwards the north slope, dragging, drowning and quenching every living being crossing its deadly path.

Nevada State Geological Survey would have to be informed. I so love my paperwork, he sighed. Definitely something we do not need up here, another wise guy science nerd. He smirked when he recalled his experience with the meticulous crime lab specialist who worked with him on the severed head case. The case involved two of his family members but had been handled low profile thanks to the courtesy and discretion of that guy. His older brother finally learned to cope with his personal issues and now did his best to support his son, visiting him as often as possible in jail. He sighed, 'We all do the best we can but sometime it is just not enough.'

Carefully he turned the SUV and headed downhill. The rain was still pouring and the wipers had a hard job to fight back the wet flood forced against the windshield by an upcoming strong westerly wind. Brooks hit a small country road from which he thought it might lead him to the end of the landslide. He couldn't quite believe what he saw, wiped his eyes and used the binoculars as if to prove his senses wrong.

But the scene did not change. Between rock and debris there were two human beings standing, no not standing, they seemed somehow stuck in the soil like tin soldiers. Obviously grabbed by the rage of the muddy avalanche, probably hopefully instantly killed by suffocation. Then the bodies must have moved upwards by accident, finally released by the powers of this downhill stream. Alan Brooks had seen a lot, but human beings heavily mutilated by force of nature, was a first. He took a deep breath. They look like pillars in salt, Brooks frowned. Although being an atheist, this bible reference crossed his mind. I'm going to love this, he mumbled to himself when moving closer. Brooks identified two males but that was it. Mud and severe broken bones seemed to make it impossible to find any familiarities with people he knew. Then he stood thunderstruck again. From what he could see this head wound had not been caused by natural effect. This was definitely caused by human involvement. For certain that particular guy had been killed by gun shot. Ok, cancel the reference to Lot, we might have to look out for Kain and Abel. That would be a heck of a report, Brooks shook his head and left the scene to head back to the office and make some phone calls.