Title: Appliances
Author: Escargoat
Rating: FRT (PG-13 for those still using that system)
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Summary: Nick tells his parents about his relationship with Grissom.
Author's Note/Warnings: Season 8. Set after “You Kill Me
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to CBS and all those fine people that created it. I'm obviously not making any money off of this, nor would I want to.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
“Hey, Cisco, uh what are you doing home?” Nick winced as he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.
“Well, son, even judges take days off occasionally,” the elder Stokes chuckled,
“Right. Sorry. I just was expecting Mom to answer.”
“Your mother is in the kitchen making coffee. Apparently my taste buds have been murdered by the courthouse coffee, and the stuff I made was nothing more than colored water. Say Pancho, you think that there is any forensic evidence for proving that it was the courthouse coffee? I personally think a better suspect is your mother's oyster stew. That stuff could make any tongue curl up and die.”
“I heard that!” Nick heard his mother protest in the background.
“I don't think that it's your sense of taste. Strictly speaking, it would be your sense of sight for measuring or maybe your sense of smell for the freshness of the grounds,” Nick replied distractedly.
“That was a joke, son. What're you so tense about?”
Nick swallowed. Damn, sometimes he forgot what it was like to have two lawyers for parents.
“I'm not tense. I'm just nervous.”
“Hold on, your mother wants me to put you on the speaker phone.”
Nick forced himself to breathe deeply while he listened to his father mess around with the phone system. This was not at all how he had practiced this conversation. His father wasn't even supposed to be at home. Nick certainly hadn't planned on telling both of his parents at the same time.
“Now then, what is my boy so tense about?” Nick's mother questioned.
“He's not tense, just nervous,” his father corrected her.
“They're the same thing, and you know it.”
“Are you calling my son a liar?”
“No, I'm calling my son a prevaricator.”
“Mom?” Nick forced himself to interrupt the light hearted squabbling.
“Yes dear?”
“If you do something that you swore you'd never do, does that make you open minded or a hypocrite?”
A short silence echoed, and Nick felt the earlier good humor evaporate.
“You haven't done anything illegal have you?” Judge Stokes' voice was the one to come over the line.
“No!”
“Unethical?”
“Not in the strictest sense,” Nick hedged.
“Pancho,” the voice hardened on the other end becoming the father tone that demanded he admit to putting his baseball through his grandmother's china cabinet.
“I'm sleeping with my boss,” Nick blurted out instantly wishing that he could take the sentence back and rephrase it.
“Nicholas what are you thinking? I mean, I know you've always fancied redheads, but she's older than you and has a daughter. Have you thought about what this could do to her and her child? Let alone what could happen to you,” his mother ranted.
Nick felt the tears begin to form at the corners of his eyes.
“Now settle down dear. Our son is a good man. He wouldn't be doing this is he didn't have some strong feelings for Ms Willows, and she seemed to be nice enough when we met her.”
Nick felt his stomach tighten as his father tried to soothe his mother. He was going to be sick; he knew it.
“Pancho? Look, I'm not saying that I understand this, but your mother and I love you. And we want to understand. This is all, it's a bit sudden. You didn't give any indication that this was happening. You didn't even tell us that she was your boss again. Why don't you give us a little background here?”
Nick felt his fingers begin to shake as his father spoke. He couldn't do this, yet he had to do it.
The first time he opened his mouth, he had to swallow back down the bile that automatically rose. He had not been able to eat since the beginning of his shift the previous day. He supposed that he should be glad for the nervous butterflies in his stomach. Without them he'd have been hurling his last meal into his kitchen sink.
“Pancho? You still there?”
“I'm, I'm still here,” Nick whispered.
“Good, now you just take a deep breath and tell us how this whole thing started.”
“Dad,” Nick struggled over the title. It didn't seem appropriate to use their special nicknames for each other right now.
“Dad, I think you and Mom are confused,” he managed to force out.
“Confused? How?” Mrs. Stokes' voice seemed lighter with the hope of a misunderstanding.
“You've got the wrong boss,” Nick managed to choke out the words through his lips.
“Wha...”
“I'm with Grissom,” Nick cut off his mother, “I, we, I love him Momma.”
“Oh God, oh God,” Nick's mother dissolved into tears.
Nick forcefully pulled the phone away from his ear unable to listen to the sobs coming from the other end of the line.
“Nicholas,” his father's voice rasped.
“Yes?” Nick replied as he brought the receiver back to his ear.
“I, this is a bit of a shock. I think that your mother needs to go rest for a bit.”
“I understand. I'm sorry that I ruined your day off.”
A dry laugh answered him. “You sound so much like that little boy who used to bring home stray animals hoping you could keep them.”
“Sorry,” Nick apologized simply because he didn't know what else to do.
“I know you are. I'll talk to you later,” his father said before he hung up the phone.
Nick's kitchen suddenly seemed so very quiet without the sound of his mother's wails coming through the phone. He hadn't felt this terrible, well, ever. Even when he'd been locked inside of that coffin he had known that his parents loved him and were proud of him. The only person he'd been afraid of letting down was Grissom. Now the tables were turned.
Nick hated irony.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Gil rubbed his eyes tiredly as he forced his key into the lock. He loved his job, but he hated it when defense attorneys made a point of making his life hell. Exactly how many times could they rephrase and recycle a question anyway?
Maybe he should call Nick, his tired brain mused. After all, Gil hadn't had the chance to pass on the good news that Ecklie wasn't going to fire either of them for being together. Of course, he would also have to break the news that Ecklie didn't want them announcing their partnership to the rest of the team yet. Still, Gil figured he could probably put that off until after they were done making up.
It was a good thought. Too bad his body was so adamant about sleeping. On the other hand, maybe sleep was a good idea. Telling Nick had already waited a few days due to the evils of crime in Las Vegas. A little more time wouldn't make that big of a difference.
Deciding that sleep was indeed the better course of action, Gil tossed his jacket up on its hook, locked the door and began his way towards his bedroom. He huffed in annoyance when he noticed the door was ajar.
Nick had promised to walk Hank for him. His lover hadn't mentioned anything letting the dog sleep on Gil's bed, yet the dog hadn't greeted Gil at the door. That had to mean he was too busy getting dog drool on the new pillows.
“Hank, down,” Gil commanded as he burst into his room.
Two sleepy pairs of blinking brown eyes stared at him.
“Nicky, what are you doing here?” Gil's tone softened.
“I didn't want to be alone,” Nick mumbled as he stared down at the comforter.
Gil frowned. He might be sleep deprived, but he could still see the red circles around his lover's eyes.
“Do you want to…”
“No,” Nick immediately replied.
“You don't even know what I was going to ask,” Gil chided gently as he pushed Hank off of the bed so that he could sit down next to Nick.
A pair of arms slid around Gil's neck as Nick pushed himself into a seated position on the bed. Nick's lips ghosted against Gil's.
“Nicky, what's wrong?”
“Do you love me?” Nick asked bluntly.
Gil tilted his head to the side. His worry was starting to grow. “Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
Nick shrugged in response, his arms still wound around Gil's neck. “You've never said if you do or not. I love you, you know. I don't think I ever told you that before.”
“You didn't,” Gil responded softly.
“Yeah, well I can really mess stuff up sometimes.”
“Nick, what happened? Did you have a fight with Warrick?”
“No.”
“Greg?”
“No.”
“Did Ecklie talk to you? Because that thing with Catherine was entirely his idea.”
“What? No. What thing with Catherine?”
“Don't worry about it right now. Tell me what's wrong.”
The arms slid away as Nick covered his face in his hands.
“I talked to my parents today,” he mumbled.
Gil digested that bit of news. Nick had been so adamant about wanting to tell his family about them. It had never occurred to Gil that the Stokes would not be happy for their son. Why would Nick have been so eager to tell them otherwise?
“It didn't go well?” Gil finally asked when it became evident that Nick was not going to be supplying further details.
“Mom was in hysterical tears. I can't believe I talked myself into believing that they'd be happy for me. I should've known better. I mean, look how long it took me to screw up the courage to tell them. I knew on some level that they wouldn't be offering to go out and buy us a blender.”
Gil bit his lip as he pondered the state of affairs. He wasn't good at dealing with these types of situations. It was one of the reasons his relationship with Sara had come to the end it had.
Gently, Gil tugged Nick's hands away from his face. “Nick, you can't blame yourself for their reactions. You've done nothing wrong.”
“I'm sleeping with my boss. I'm lying to my friends. I just broke my mother's heart. How is that doing nothing wrong?”
“You aren't sleeping with your boss. You're sleeping with your boyfriend.”
“And I probably shouldn't even be doing that,” Nick commented miserably.
“You know that isn't true,” Gil managed to bite out while struggling to keep his frustration in check.
“Isn't it? I don't have any place doing this. I'm not flag carrying queer here now am I?” Nick said with no small amount of self loathing.
Nick's own view of his sexuality was odd. He did not have a problem with other men being gay. He did, however, keep revisiting an odd belief that he was some sort of hypocrite and liar because he had never been predisposed to homosexual activity before Gil.
“Nicky, we've had this discussion before, and I still don't recall asking to see your membership card to the gay men's association.”
“I just,” Nick paused when Gil put placed his fingertips against his mouth.
“Do you like to think about me naked?” Gil asked when he was certain Nick was silenced.
Nick blushed, “Yeah.”
“Do you still occasionally like to think about women naked?”
Nick's expression turned to one of embarrassment, “Yeah.”
“Have you ever thought about another man?”
“Maybe a couple times, but that was… and I never even, I mean I didn't want to do the things I do with you, I…”
“Your feelings towards women are much more accepted by society. Given that your body had a definite liking for the female form, you were hardly hiding in the closet by not exploring other avenues. Now, can we quit having this discussion? I'm tired. You are emotionally exhausted, and we both have to work tonight.”
Nick nodded in acquiescence and watched as Gil stripped out of the suit he had worn to court and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and an old tee shirt.
“If I wasn't so exhausted, I'd ravage you right now,” Gil commented lightly as he plopped down next to Nick.
“And whose fault is it that I haven't been here lately?” Nick asked in the same light tone.
“Las Vegas criminals, they keep killing people,” Gil groused.
“They always do, but that never stopped you from doing something before. Although, given how my parents reacted, maybe you shouldn't tell Ecklie,” Nick mused.
“Well, it is a bit too late for that. I told him. Apparently I'm a horny idiot that needs to quit molesting my employees. Because of that, Catherine is going to be taking over some of my supervisory duties, but he doesn't want to make it look like it is because of our relationship, so he wants us to keep quiet about this for a while.”
Nick sighed, “I'm kinda okay with that. I don't need to have everybody at work looking at me funny right now. Catherine's gonna have a fit when she finds out though. There isn't any way that she won't know what the responsibility shift was all about.”
“I know,” Gil replied heavily as he reached around Nick to turn off the bedside lamp.
Silence reigned for a few minutes while both men tried to go to sleep.
“Nicky, you asleep?” Gil finally whispered.
“My breathing pattern sound like I'm asleep?”
“I was just wondering, a blender?”
Nick chuckled softly, “Family tradition, every kid gets one when they get engaged. It's supposed to represent their soon to be coming future.”
“Their lives being chopped up into tiny pieces and hopelessly mangled into baby food?”
“No, two lives being blended together by the power of the one force of love. It is kind of the family's vote of confidence in your choice of partner. I know it's corny, but I want it.”
“Well in the strictest sense we can't even get engaged because we can't get married, so you wouldn't be getting one anyway.”
Nick rolled his eyes even though the light was not strong enough for Gil to see the movement. “That isn't the point. The point is that if my family thought you were the one, they'd accept us and try to support our relationship like we were going to get married.”
“Maybe they just don't know enough. You were surprised that you wanted this. It would only stand to reason that your family would be as well.”
“You're right. I mean, I'm probably jumping the gun anyway.”
Gil frowned. “How so?”
“It's nothing. Forget about it,” Nick muttered as he rolled onto his side effectively putting his back to Gil.
“Nicky…”
“I'm tired. Can we just go to sleep?”
“I do love you,” Gil said helplessly.
“I know you do. Just go to sleep,” Nick replied in a sad yet firm voice.
Not knowing what else to do, Gil rolled over and fell into a fitful rest.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Cranky did not begin to describe Grissom when he returned home from work. Ecklie had decided to spring the “good news” of Catherine's new responsibilities on her at the beginning of the shift.
Catherine had been happy for about an hour. That was about how long it took for everybody to notice that Nick was about as far from happy as he ever was. Given the fact that Nick's poor attitude came immediately on the heels of Catherine's “advancement,” it had not taken long for the office to come to the conclusion that Nick was unhappy about her having more responsibility over him.
They might be trained investigators, but even professionals easily slide into obvious assumptions when not put on the right track.
Gil did have the right track though. Unfortunately, that did not mean he knew what to do about it. His relationship with Nick was different on so many levels. Given the fact that Gil wasn't good at relationships in the first place, it was a miracle that he hadn't completely ruined his current one.
A sharp rap at the door jarred Grissom from his musings.
“Can I help you?” the sharp question came out of his mouth before he even looked to see who was on the other side. Truth be told, the only person that he would have tempered his tone to would have been Nick.
“No, I don't think you can Mr. Grissom,” a very stern voice answered him.
Gil unconsciously stiffened his spine to the tone even as his mind matched the face and voice to his memories.
“Mrs. Stokes,” he said in a tone so neutral that if it were a color, could have applied to be the new beige.
She ignored him and walked through his doorway, not asking for permission.
“What will it take for you to leave him alone?” her voice bit out, all business.
Gil felt his pulse quicken. “Excuse me?”
Brown eyes bored into him in response stating very clearly that she knew he had heard her, and she was certainly not going to repeat herself. A small part of Gil's brain noted that Nick had been known to have that exact same stare, and he usually used it on people who committed crimes against children. Of course, that made sense in a slightly twisted way. Nick was her child after all.
“My son has practically worshipped you since the moment he laid eyes on one of your forensic papers. It's why he took his godforsaken job out here.”
“I'm not sure how you think that is supposed to dissuade me from bestowing my affections on him,” Gil answered evenly.
“You're taking advantage of him. Nick has always been the most emotional of all my children. He feels everything too deeply. He wouldn't tell you 'no' even if he wanted to, and you know that.”
Gil frowned at her. “I don't think that is true. Nick is a very strong individual. He certainly isn't a weak minded child who can be swayed by a case of hero worship.”
“What Nick is, Dr. Grissom, is too invested to quit. He's committed himself to you for years, and now that you're in real danger of becoming a lonely, old man, you've grabbed onto him. Nick's hopes and dreams involved falling in love with a woman and having children. Did you know that?”
“I know that projecting your own desires onto your son is unhealthy,” Gil bit out letting his frustration get the better of him.
“My desires? Have you ever stopped to talk to my son? Did you ever think that a man his age might want children? Don't try to pretend to me that you would let him. He's complained about you often enough. You're about as emotionally accessible as that picture mounted on the wall over there.”
“You have no right to judge me, Mrs. Stokes. You don't even know me.”
“You're right. I don't know you. But I do know that the only possible reason that my youngest would be parting his legs for another man would be because of his emotions. And I know that he would do just about anything to please you. I just never thought he'd go so far as to go against his own preferences to do it.”
“I understand that you are upset, and if you wish to insult my character, that is one thing. But I will not allow you to insult your own son in my home. Nick is one of the most generous, hardworking and dedicated men that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You do him a great disservice in believing that he would allow himself to be manipulated into a relationship that he does not want,” Gil finally grit out, not caring that it was Nick's beloved mother he was snapping at.
“Either you truly have no shame, or you've truly deceived yourself into believing that,” she responded with a tone of disdain clearly pitched to get a reaction.
“I have no intention of further discussing my relationship with your son with you. Get out.”
To her credit, Mrs. Stokes did not try to continue the argument. Perhaps it was because she had said her piece, or perhaps it was because she was a lawyer and knew it would be considered trespassing to continue to stay. Grissom would have placed his bet on the latter.
In either case, she said nothing as she left, closing the door behind her quietly as if they had just participated in a much more genial conversation.
Gil sighed as he pulled his glasses off of his face and headed towards his phone. He needed to call Nick. It was a safe bet that his mother was heading to see him next. If Grissom couldn't convince Nick to run safely to Gil's apartment, he could at least warn Nick about the impending doom coming his way.
Gil's doorbell rang again.
Angrily, he grit his teeth and went to go answer it. Obviously the woman had not given up.
“What?” he snapped as he yanked open his door.
Judge Stokes rocked back on his heels and smiled.
“You ever in a good mood Dr. Grissom?”
“If you're looking for your wife, she just left,” Gil wearily replied.
“Oh, no, I'm not. She doesn't even know I'm in town. Kinda been on the outs with the Missus lately.”
Gil squinted at the older man. Dear God, was Nick going to start talking like that when he got older?
“Look, can I come in?”
Sighing, Gil motioned him in.
“I assure you that your wife has already lodged your complaints about my relationship with Nick, so let me spare you. I have absolutely no intention of stopping my 'corruption' of your son. He is a fully emancipated adult capable of making his own choices.”
“I know that,” Judge Stokes responded easily as he took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair.
Confusion swam over Grissom's features.
“Don't look at me like that. Just because I've been married for years, it doesn't mean that I have everything in common with my wife. It would be boring if I did.”
“So you're saying that you don't have a problem with my relationship with Nick?”
“Oh, I have problems with it, but then again, I've had problems with all the people that my kids have dragged home. I'd be a bad father if I didn't. You're older than Pancho. You're a man, and from what I've heard, you can be a pretty big bastard towards my boy,” Judge Stokes ticked off his points on his right hand as he talked.
“I'm not sure I understand,” Gil admitted.
“Look, I have issues with you, but I also remember that you didn't give up on finding him when he was buried in that coffin. You don't strike me as the type of man who lets go once he's got a good grip, and you've got a damn tight grip on my son.”
“I'm not sure that I know how to take that.”
“Take it to mean that I know better than to try to break the two of you apart,” the elder Stokes paused a moment before speaking again, “Dr. Grissom, if you ever hurt my youngest, I will personally drag you behind my truck and scatter your parts across all of Texas.”
“Dragging a gay man to death is a bit stereotypical,” Grissom commented.
“Who said it had anything to do with you being gay? Gave the same threat to each and every one of the men that my girls have brought home. Besides, I thought you were, what's the word, bisexual?”
Gil sat down heavily. “This is all a bit surreal,” he confessed ruefully.
A bark of laughter answered him. “Dr. Grissom, I don't think you know what surreal means until your son, who has a reputation of being a ladies man, calls you up and announces his love for his male boss. A boss that was just recently involved with one of said son's female friends.”
“I imagine it was quite disconcerting.”
“You could say that. Look, I'm not here because I agree with or even understand Pancho's choice. But I am here because I love that boy. My wife and I raised him right, and if he thinks you're worth it, then I have to believe him. Besides, it'll be nice to have more men than women in the family. Best I ever hoped for was a tie once all my kids got married.”
Gil didn't know how to respond to that, so he kept quiet. Finally the Judge pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his discarded jacket.
“Best go find the missus and let her know that I followed her out here,” he said as he started walking towards the door.
Gil moved to his feet and showed him to the door.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Gil Grissom walked into his lab with trepidation. He had not been able to reach Nick all day. Well, whatever all day was when a person works graveyard anyway. Given that both of Nick's parents had paid him visits, it was a good bet that they had also gifted their son with their presence.
Lab techs from the previous shift bustled along in the hallways, anxious to get home. Warrick was chatting amiably with Greg. Catherine was scowling at Hodges. Gil didn't see Nick anywhere.
Forcing down the feeling of dread that was building, Gil pushed the door to his office open and glanced at his desk. Alongside the pile of reports was a box wrapped in newspaper. Gil automatically pulled on a pair of gloves before touching the box. His suspicion and excitement died a quick death when he saw Nick's printing on the wrapping.
“Aren't you going to open it?” Nick's familiar voice interrupted Gil's inspection of the package.
“Nine times out of ten, receiving an unexpected, poorly wrapped present at work is a bad sign,” Gil responded with a tinge of amusement in his tone.
“Hey, it isn't poorly wrapped. The edges are neat. My boss just doesn't pay me enough for me to afford real wrapping paper.”
Gil smiled slightly at that and methodically pulled the paper away from the box.
“A food processor?”
“Well, my folks came to see me, and I realized that I can't be living my life based on what other people think. I'm going to go after what I want. But I figure I can move on and still leave the door open to them at the same time.”
“So you bought me a food processor,” Gil stated slowly.
“Yup,” Nick responded easily.
“Nicky…”
“Look, Gil, that whole me going after what I want despite what other people think? That includes you.”
“Nicky…”
“I mean it. Just because I'm the 'nice guy' doesn't mean I'm not tenacious.”
“Nicky…”
“Would you at least give me a chance here? You don't have to be all stubborn right off the ba…”
“NICK!”
Nick stopped and stared at Gil.
“Would you quit talking for a moment and let me thank you for the gift?”
“Really, you mean that?” Nick asked in a surprised tone.
“I do,” Gil replied as his lips twisted into a slight smile.
Nick beamed back at Gil even as a blush began to creep up his neck and into his face.
Gil felt his smile grow wider against his own will, “Tenacious but not entirely sure of yourself?”
Nick tried to give him a half-hearted glare, but his grin won out over it.
After a little bit, it became obvious to them both that they were standing in the middle of the supervisor's office grinning at each other like loons.
“I, uh, have to go talk to Hodges about those fibers I sent to trace,” Nick mumbled as he hurried out the door, nearly colliding with Catherine on his way out.
Catherine paused and watched Nick's quickly retreating back for a moment before entering Gil's office. Confused, she eyed the food processor sitting on Grissom's desk.
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” she asked.
“No, but I'll tell you someday,” was all the response that Gil gave.
- Main CSI page
- The new stories
- Gil/Greg stories
- Gil/Nick stories
- Gil/Warrick stories
- Nick/Greg stories
- Nick/Warrick stories
- Greg/Warrick stories
- Nick/Bobby stories
- Jim Brass stories
- David Hodges stories
- CSI: New York stories
- CSI: Miami stories
- Other pairings & threesomes
- Gen CSI stories
- CSI: Crime Scene Investigation - The Eighth Season
