Title: Sniper

Author: Cropper

Pairing: GSR

Rating: Mature for Profanity, Graphic Imagery, Adult Situations

Disclaimer: I do not own them but I wish I did. I mean no harm or infringement and will return everyone to their rightful owners when I finish, I promise.

Summary: A Sniper has returned from prison seeking vengeance on those responsible for his incarceration.

A/N: I had lots of help with this story so this might take a couple of minutes. Thank you, idreamedmusic, for the beautiful banner. The hefeweizen is still on me. Smacky30, Cincoflex, Domo Arigato and anyone else who might have done a beta read on this for me? You ladies are all awesome and I am deeply appreciative of your efforts. LosingInTranslation provided invaluable assistance with the medical terminology and is responsible for the wound track diagrams. And finally, a huge thanks to Cheryl, Lisa, Cindy, Michelle, Muriel and Kaye. They are my constants.

PROLOGUE

Out there on the street
You can hear them mumble
Stumble on their feet
They are all the desperate men
Out there on the road

You see them on the highway
Everywhere you go
They are all the desperate men

Grissom glanced at his watch and sighed. It was eight o'clock. She was not going to show up. He slowly covered the remains of a celebratory feast that would never be eaten and slid the dishes into the refrigerator. He snuffed out the candles, and sniffled once, allowing himself a brief moment of pity, a minute condolence for a silly wish never meant to be. He considered returning the china and crystal to the hutch but decided to leave them on the table. They were beautiful and quietly elegant, just like her, silent reminders of what might have been once upon a time. He stared wistfully at the small black box on her plate before slipping it into his pocket. He caressed the crushed velvet longingly before removing his hand to swipe at a single tear sliding down his cheek. He grabbed his jacket and pulled out his phone as he headed for the door. He would be available to work this evening after all.

Right there in your bed
Tossing and turning
On the pillow by your head
All the desperate men
Right there in your arms
You can hear him crying
Sounding the alarm

All the desperate men

The Sniper polished the stock with a soft, oiled cloth, carefully removing the smudged friction ridges. Granted, fingerprints could not be seen on the black matte finish of the military issue rifle, but he knew they were there and he detested all mess and chaos not caused by deadened spits launching from the barrel of his weapon. He raised the gun to his cheek, nestling it in the curve of his shoulder like an old lover. He looked through the scope and grinned with delight when the stocky figure passed before the cross hairs. Bullseye. His smile widened as his finger carefully exerted pressure, easing the bullet from the magazine. A brief expulsion of air was all that was heard.

All the desperate men
Singing, "Will I ever
Will I ever love again?"
All the desperate men

"All the Desperate Men" Words and Music by John Stewart

TO BE CONTINUED...