Title: How It All Begins
By: Caster
Pairing: Nick/David
Rating: PG
A/T: Wow. I mean, I'm not sure what I was thinking when I signed up for the fanfic100 challenge. I think I was being spontaneous, even though I've been told that I couldn't be spontaneous if I tried. And now? Now I'm going to write 100 Nick Stokes/David Hodges fics. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my spontaneity, which I most certainly have. :D Some entries have already been posted here and some need to be written, but in the end, there will be 100 fics of a Nick/David nature. Insanity, I say!
Spoilers for this episode are from 4x4. Remember Nick's kid-in-the-dryer case? And pre-school parties being "off the hook"? That's where this fic stems from; you can read it without having seen the episode, but it helps.
Disclaimer: Whew. With 100 fics comes 100 disclaimers, but they'll all read the same: I don't own anything related to CSI. Please don't sue!
Summary: It's okay to make mistakes... as long as you can fix them.

***

Part 1: Look Away

"How did it turn out?"

Nick doesn't recognize the voice although, in his defense, his mind isn't exactly serving him at the moment. All he's really aware of is the fact that he's sitting in the driver seat of his truck, door open, keys in his hand, staring out the windshield as if perhaps the pane of glass held the answers to his numerous questions. He's not moving anywhere; he's still parked in the same space, having been sitting there for at least ten minutes, aware that he should probably start driving home sometime before shift starts again in fourteen hours.

But he can't seem to make himself move. His memory keeps replaying the way Andy Jones had puked on the table, the gravity of what he did hitting him like a sack of rocks. He can't think of anything else except that a prostitute had found Chase Ryan on a bench, thrown away like trash. He can't remember why he had wanted to move to Las Vegas in the first place.

He's not in the mood to make small talk, especially about a case he just wants to forget. What he's in the mood for is a hot shower and some shuteye; whoever's talking to him can take a long walk off of a short pier for all he cares. Was it Greg? Warrick? Grissom? Hell, it didn't matter. It could be the President and Nick wouldn't even notice until after a good day of sleep and a few cups of coffee.

But he finds himself turning his head anyway, wondering who would be stupid enough to try and approach a CSI after such a shitty day.

What surprises him is that it's David Hodges, his head tilted slightly to the right, as if he's trying to analyze Nick. It's weird, actually, to see him out of a lab coat or, better yet, out of the lab in general. Nick's not sure how to respond, but his body still relaxes for some reason and he merely sighs before shaking his head and jingling his keys with his hand.

"How did what turn out, Hodges?"

"The case with the kid. Alcohol and pre-school? I still say that four-year-olds will be living wild in a decade or two."

Nick has to smile at that. He remembers their conversation from earlier, and how Hodges' "off the hook" gave away his age. Off the hook? Wasn't that phrase big in the eighties?

He forgets it, though, as he feels Hodges observe him from behind watchful blue eyes. Nick shifts, uncomfortable at the gaze; he just wants to go home.

"We solved it," he replies. "Kid's best friend stuck him a dryer."

"Talk about lack of common sense."

"Kids being kids."

"Not that I've ever been big on empathy, but may-''

"Look, a kid's dead because of sheer stupidity. I'm tired and in some inevitable stage of mourning, not that you would understand the meaning of the word. Can we save this for later?"

Hodges blinks at the scathing remark and Nick can almost see the wheels of his mind turning, trying to formulate an appropriate response. The look of surprise on his face is almost satisfying, because Hodges is never surprised about anything. Nick can only imagine what everyone would say if they were to discover that Nick had told him off, had made him speechless.

For one fleeting moment, Nick feels good.

But the sarcastic, cutthroat barb that Hodges is supposed to retort with never comes. He's still wearing that look, although some of the confusion has melted away in favor of emptiness, and Nick's satisfaction begins to disappear. Hodges certainly deserves it, right? The insults he so often sends Nick's way surely justifies the comment, right?

Right?

Nick suddenly hates himself. The technician had been tolerable that night, going out of his way to make Nick's case as easy as possible. He had made conversation like a normal human being would, had cracked a few jokes that made Nick laugh. It was kind of nice, actually, and Nick tries to fight off his shame. He knows that Hodges doesn't deserve to be his verbal punching bag and he turns towards the other man, opening his mouth to retract his words.

However, Hodges merely shrugs and tries to smile. "It's been a hard night. I get it."

"Hodges, I didn't… I'm sorry."

"I know. Go get some sleep, huh? Another day of paradise tomorrow."

Nick's mouth dries and he has this sickening feeling that he's done something horribly wrong, only he doesn't know what it is or what the repercussions will be.

"Okay."

Hodges nods, turns, and walks away. Nick watches him. He can't help it, can't seem to look anywhere else. David Hodges is a man too many people seem to overlook, but there's something strangely odd and special and different about him. Nick knows Hodges never makes small talk for the hell of it and he knows he just blew him off with words that not even Hodges deserves. They were cruel, and Nick's never cruel.

Nick tries to erase the conversation from his mind, but can't.

***

Part 2: Look Through

"So whatcha' going to wear?"

Nick knows this voice; then again, he's much more awake than he had been the morning before. In addition, he's sipping some coffee and has eaten and showered since the end of his last shift, so he feels like he can have a conversation with someone without falling asleep in the middle of it.

Nick raises his eyebrows at the question as Greg plops onto the seat across from him. Greg's off the wall and everything, but Nick honestly has no idea what the younger man is talking about.

"What am I going to wear?" he echoes. "Besides what I'm wearing now?"

Greg rolls his eyes. "No offense, Nicky, but I can't let you wear that on a date."

"Since when are we dating?"

"You're not dating me, genius. I meant what are you going to wear with Hodges?"

Nick stares, truly lost in the wake of Greg's excited question. Date? Hodges? Was Greg high on something?

"Hodges?" he repeats, his voice betraying his puzzlement. In front of him, Greg shakes his head and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval.

"There's no need to play dumb with me, Nicky. Hodges told me all about his plan yesterday. Of course, it took a lot of pestering and some threats on my life, but I finally got the details."

Nick continues to stare, his expression one of confusion, and Greg begins to think that maybe he should crack a joke to break the tension. He knows that Nick isn't completely "out" or anything, but it was just a date with Hodges. Doesn't Nick know that he never needs to hide this stuff from him? Greg's in the same boat, after all. His boyfriend just happens to live in Miami.

As the seconds fly by, the two men silent, Greg's energized grin slowly fades until it's practically a grimace. They've been having a conversation, but they haven't been talking about the same thing.

"I just… I thought that you would say…" Greg trails off, looking uneasy, a rare expression for such a bright man. "Sorry, Nicky. I didn't know you said no."

"Said no to what, Greg?"

"He didn't ask you yesterday morning?"

"Who?"

"Hodges. He was finally going to ask you to dinner."

"Greg, I wrapped up a case and headed home. He just stopped by to ask how…"

It's Nick's turn to trail off and he nearly stops breathing. That's it, isn't it? The unspoken words Hodges wanted to say the morning before, but hadn't been given the opportunity.

"He wanted to ask me to dinner?"

"He likes you," Greg replies. When the blonde sees Nick's blank expression, he continues on with, "He likes you. Get it?"

Nick usually wouldn't understand something like this. The thought of Hodges being someone more than just a trace tech is nearly incomprehensible, but the thought of him liking Nick –really liking Nick- is… is… well, it isn't half bad. Odd? Maybe. Surprising? Oh, definitely. But bad? Not at all.

"Please don't tell him I said anything," Greg says, looking at his hands. "He'll kill me. He'll never trust me again." Nick's never seen Greg like this: silent and uncomfortable, as if he has said something wrong. What shocks him even more is the friendship that Greg obviously doesn't want to lose. When did that happen?

Nick merely smiles at his best friend before rising from his seat. Of course he won't say anything; Greg had every right to believe Nick accepted the offer. It was his personality; that is, not wanting to hurt people. He wonders if he still has the chance.

He wanders the hallways, not quite as tired as he was yesterday. He's not sure where his feet are leading him, but he finds himself walking towards the trace lab, his mind more or less on autopilot due to an unhealthy amount of astonishment.

He leans against the glass. Hodges looks tired, his usual façade vanishing in the absence of his co-workers. Nick wonders how long he could stand here and simply watch before Hodges catches onto his little voyeurism antic. He stands there for a moment or two before the other man glances up and their eyes meet through the glass walls. Nick has never noticed (although he's never had a reason to) the way Hodges has blue eyes or the way he smiles, albeit very rarely. When he does, it's genuine, it's bright. Nick likes it.

But Hodges isn't smiling. He's looking at Nick, his expression closed off, as if yesterday morning didn't even happen.

I'm tired and in some inevitable stage of mourning, not that you would understand the meaning of the word.

Suddenly, Nick's very regretful.

***

Part 3: Look Now

He thinks this is déjà-vu, only the roles have been reversed. It's Nick's turn to trek through the parking lot, his nerves on the fritz and his stomach filled with butterflies that are high on sugar and zooming around as though caught in a tornado. Nick thinks that's what his emotions actually are at the moment: a whirlwind. He never knew that he wanted David Hodges' attention, his interest, but he can't help but feel thrilled at the mere thought. Views are altered, people change, and now Nick Stokes desperately wants to rewind back to the morning before, where Hodges had somehow mustered the courage it took to even think of asking Nick on a date.

Nick wants that courage now. No, he needs that courage. Why? Because he's trailing Hodges past a kingdom of parked cars, intent on catching him before he drives away. He's not sure what in the world he's thinking or how he's going to go about asking him to dinner, but it's not as if he had the time to plan it out and even if he did, he probably couldn't think of anything particularly bright to say. He figures it's best to take the Greg Sanders approach: off the handle, winging it, making it up as you go along. In simple terms? Spontaneous words. He isn't very talented in that department, but he knows if he thinks too hard about it then he'll chicken out, and that's the last thing he wants.

He watches as Hodges stops at a silver car; it's a little beat up, but obviously in the midst of repairs. Nick can't help but remember hearing that he likes working on cars and was a bit of a mechanical genius. What other things did Nick not know about this man? He shakes his head at himself; for a CSI, he could be so oblivious as to what kind of people were around him.

He watches as Hodges unlocks the driver's door and throws it open. He tosses in his backpack and makes a move to get inside. Nick takes a deep breath. They were alone, which is rare, and he's feeling brave, which is even more atypical. He's screaming at himself to approach the damn vehicle before Hodges drives off and it's a good thing that his body is listening, because his mind isn't. Even as his feet take him to where Hodges is sitting, fiddling with the rearview mirror, Nick's mind is telling him that there isn't a snowball's chance in Hell that this is going to pan out.

He tells his mind to go screw itself.

"Can I talk to you?"

The words are out faster that he believes possible. His mouth is obviously taking sides with his body, because neither is listening to his common sense. When he should have run, he approached and when he should of shut-up, he talked. It makes no sense, but this is a weird situation anyway and he's in no state to try and figure it out.

Hodges glances up; if he's alarmed by Nick's presence, he doesn't show it. However, his eyes portray his wariness and he still appears nervous, so it's clear Nick caught him by surprise.

"About what?" he asks, ever calm. "If it's about the Smithson results, you're going to have to get someone else to rerun them or wait until tomorrow."

Nick wonders what it's like to feel that no one needs you. Is that what Hodges thought? That he was only useful to his work and nothing else? Or that the only reason anyone would want to talk to him was because of trace results? It was rather disheartening. Nick can't imagine living that sort of life.

"It's not about work, Hodges. It's about yesterday."

The technician blinkes and rises from his seat, standing so he's at least eye-to-eye with the CSI, crossing his arms and leaning against the car behind him.

"What about yesterday?"

Nick takes a deep, shuddering breath. No guts, no glory. That's what his high school football coach used to say when they made last ditch efforts to win a game. Granted, this wasn't football, but his panic was still the same.

"Greg told me."

David straightens at these words and Nick mentally slaps himself, because he wasn't supposed to say that. Now Greg's going to hate him. This can't get any worse.

"Sanders told you what?" Hodges asks, his voice hard and his blue eyes flashing with contempt. "Whatever he said was a lie. He's just running that big mouth of his."

He's clearly upset and, for once, was doing a poor job of hiding it. He turns back towards his car, his movements jerky, and Nick reaches out his hand to stop the technician from trying to escape.

"David, wait."

Hodges all but freezes at this name and Nick's rather surprised himself. But what's he supposed to do? Can you really ask someone out using their last name? No. That's just… well, it's uncouth, not that Nick's doing a spectacular job of sweeping Hodges off his feet or anything.

"You're really pissing me off, Stokes," Hodges remarks, his irritation clear as he jerks himself away from Nick's grasp. Nick hates being called by his last name, especially by a man who always calls him by his first. It shows him wanting to distance himself, and Nick feels his heart drop at the thought.

"Listen, I was out of line yesterday. It's just that kid cases always get to me and you sort of caught me at a bad time, but I was thinking that if there was anything particular you wanted to say then we could talk about it."

"No, thanks. I th-''

"Go out to dinner with me," Nick says, his words rushed. He inwardly winces, because interrupting someone isn't the highest form of flattery, but he can already hear Hodges declining his invitation and he has to get the offer out before he loses his nerve.

Hodges is absolutely still. He opens his mouth to speak, probably sarcastic and cutting words, before his voice dies once more. He doesn't have anything to say. Nick smiles at the notion.

"What?" Hodges asks, his suspicion apparent. "Look, I know Sanders told you, but you don't have to go around playing hero. Feigning affection is almost as bad as the rejection itself."

"I'm not feigning anything," Nick replies, hope tinting his words. "I'm interested. I just didn't think you felt the same way."

"You're a shitty liar, Stokes."

"David, please listen. I had no idea you ever wanted to- I mean, you never said anything or gave any indication, so I just assumed…"

He trails off, unsure on how to continue. He's never been so nervous and he suddenly remembers Greg. What had it taken for Greg to convince Ryan that he was really attracted? He had put down his cards, willing to sacrifice, baring his truths. Hodges just doesn't want to be taken advantage of or deceived or jerked around. Nick can't blame him, because he doesn't want that either. He just has to calm his nerves and breathe deep.

Hodges has no desire for a poetical romance or someone groveling at his feet.

He simply wants the truth.

Nick's pretty good at that.

"David, I'm asking you because I want to. I think we could definitely try it and see where it goes." At the technician's doubtful silence, Nick continues. "This isn't a trick, David. You're funny and intelligent. I think those are great qualities."

"It's not a trick," David echoes, his body relaxing ever so slightly. Nick is silent, because no one should have to believe that every relationship was based on deceit and pain. Maybe Nick can change David's views. Maybe he can make him happier. "If Sanders put you up to this…"

He trails off, but the warning is clear. However, Nick knows it isn't necessary.

"All I need is a chance," Nick says. David uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands in his pockets. A quiet moment passes before he smiles, and Nick is startled by how handsome he really is.

"Fine," he agrees. "One chance."

Nick is elated.

FIN.