Title: Commitment
By: Rhysenn
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The best laid plans of (lab) mice and men... go oft awry. Grissom and Nick's commitment ceremony does not go as planned.

***

The bungalow was nestled on the fringes of Las Vegas; far enough from the casinos to be decent and quiet, but not so close to the side of town clearly marked, "One square foot costs what you earn in a month, so don't even bother." Nick had chanced across it one morning while driving back from a solo crime scene - the house was vacant and had a "For Rent" sign out front, along with a number to call.

This, Nick had thought when he first set admiring eyes on the stately, quaint house, with a long meandering driveway leading in from the main road and a small Chinese-looking pagoda in the middle of the garden - this was where he wanted to marry Gil Grissom.

Of course, he would never say that out loud - sometimes he could barely even think it, or imagine what Gil would say if Gil knew. Nick spent long enough agonizing over just how to breach the topic - and when he eventually did, one evening just before they were due at the lab, it was clumsy and he talked too fast about how he once attended a commitment ceremony of a college pal and his partner of five years and it was, you know, nice and all, and Nick had rambled on until Gil finally put down his Journal of Medical Entomology and peered at him over the rim of his glasses.

"Is that what you want, Nick?" Gil's voice was even, and gave nothing away.

"Well," Nick bit his lip. "I guess... kind of."

An arched eyebrow. "Kind of?"

Nick took a deep breath, and looked Gil in the eyes.

"Yeah," he finally said. "It is."

Nick still wasn't quite sure why this meant so much to him. He and Gil had been together two and a half years now - but as he explained to Gil in great length (even though Gil never asked), he wasn't looking to register a civil union, or go to Massachusetts to get married. He just wanted a commitment ceremony.

Gil had regarded him with a tilted head and a thoughtful look.

"All right, then," he said, and then gave Nick a smile.

And at that moment, sitting in their kitchen - well, technically it was Gil's kitchen, but they'd been living together for over a year - Nick looked at Gil, and saw exactly why he wanted this.

"Okay." He couldn't suppress a radiant smile back. "Cool."


* * *



The day of the commitment ceremony started unraveling as soon as it began. In fact, it even clocked in early the night before in the form of a double homicide (a five year old girl and her teenage cousin), a hit-and-run and a dead hooker in a swimming pool. The lab was swamped and Nick was called back to work on what had originally been his Friday night off.

Probably the only stroke of good fortune was that his and Greg's hit-and-run turned out to be relatively easier than the other two cases. They managed to finish up by half past nine on Saturday morning, and Nick figured he had just about enough time to head back home for a quick shower before rushing to the bungalow. The caterers would be there at half past eleven, as would the florist, and then his parents. His siblings had arrived the day before, and Nick was thankful that his sisters Gina and Claire were already at the house, helping to get the decorations done. They were running a pretty tight schedule - the invitation card had said one o'clock sharp, although the earliest guests would probably start trickling in around half past twelve.

He was grabbing his stuff from his locker when Greg appeared at the doorway to tell Nick that he'd just come from the parking lot, and Nick's car was definitely sporting an oddly lopsided look owing to a flat front tire.

"Great," Nick groaned, slamming his locker shut. "That is just great."

"Hey, I'll drive you," Greg offered. "If Grissom's not leaving yet, that is, which is likely the case as they've only got two dozen suspects left to run through."

Nick readily accepted Greg's offer, told him he'd meet him out front and then went to look for Gil. Predictably, Nick found him in his office, with Catherine looking over his shoulder as they analyzed some reports together.

"Hey," Nick leaned into Grissom's office, "I'm heading off now, I really need to get things organized. Oh, and I blew a tire, so Greg's gonna drive me."

Grissom glanced up; he looked stressed and tired. "Right. You go on ahead."

"You need me to pick up anything at home?" Nick asked. "Because if not, I think I'm gonna go straight to the house."

"Sure," Grissom answered, his already attention diverted back to the DNA printouts in front of him. "That's fine."

"Uh, okay," Nick hesitated. "So, um, any idea when you're leaving?"

"I don't know, Nick." Grissom looked up, a sharp twitch of irritation on the edge of his words. "As much as I'd like to, I can't control how fast this case progresses."

Nick stared at Grissom, stung; he seemed unsure of what to say next, which was when Catherine swiftly intercepted.

"We'll leave the lab as soon as we can, Nicky," she said reassuringly. "Don't worry. You and Greg head off first, Warrick should be back any moment and he'll probably join you there."

Catherine's words steadied Nick, and he quickly regained some of his confidence; he gave her a strained but grateful smile.

"Okay, then," he said, stealing another wary glance at Gil as he backed out the doorway. "My, uh, my parents will be arriving at eleven."

"We'll be there," Catherine nodded; Nick turned away, and before the door clicked close Grissom was absorbed in the DNA reports once again.

Catherine resolutely walked around the table and planted herself directly across him.

"Well," she remarked archly, "nothing says 'I do' better than that."

Grissom looked up at her.

"It's not a wedding, Catherine, it's a commitment ceremony," he said curtly. "And secondly, what was I supposed to say? He told me that he's leaving first, and I acknowledged that."

"Just a friendly little tip, Gil," Catherine retorted. "It isn't necessary to make up for having a relationship with someone at work by going out of the way to treat them badly on the job." She halted. "And especially not on a day like today."

"That," Grissom held up a finger towards the closed glass door, "was not considered bad treatment."

"Well, then you're lucky Nick's a lot more understanding than I am, because I would've thrown a fit."

Grissom fixed his gaze on Catherine, who didn't back down. After a few moments, he finally relented; he took off his glasses and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

"It's just that these results don't make any sense," he said, rubbing his forehead and glowering at the reports, evidence analyses and crime scene photos of grotesquely dead youngsters scattered across his table. "And this case... it's important."

Catherine nodded down the corridor at Nick's retreating figure. "So's that."


* * *



"Uh-oh," Greg said, "Grissom said something just now, didn't he."

They'd been driving for five minutes, during which Nick did nothing but stare moodily out of the window.

Nick shifted in his seat.

"Yeah, kinda," he admitted reluctantly.

"Figured. You came out looking like someone just stomped on your pet hamster or something." Greg took a left when Nick signaled that he should turn. "So, what did he say?"

"Well, it's more like what he didn't say," Nick answered. "He... it was like he didn't even really care about this whole ceremony thing, you know? He was just too engrossed in his friggin' case."

"Nick," Greg said, "I don't even need to be sleeping with him to know that Grissom? Unsolved case? You do not come between those two, man. Under no circumstances."

"You know," Nick said softly, almost to himself, "I'm starting to wonder if this is a good idea after all."

Greg took his eyes off the road to gawk at Nick.

"You can't be serious," Greg said. "You're kidding, right?"

"It's just... planning this whole thing, it's been pretty stressful, you know?" Nick sat back in his seat; frustration underlined every word. "There's always a decision to make - sunflowers or roses? Tuna or ham and cheese? And Grissom, he always just says, 'Whatever you want, Nick.' "

"We-ell," Greg piped up, trying to be light-hearted, "I know of a certain few people who'd positively kill to hear Grissom say that to them."

Nick didn't smile, and Greg quickly sobered. It had started to drizzle outside, adding to the Nick-induced gloom, and Greg exhaled dolefully as he flicked on the wipers.

"This is Grissom we're talking about here, Nick," he explained, as patiently as he could. "He doesn't function on the same level as us mortals. I mean, look, I found out I was his favorite lab rat when he infected me with mildew."

"Greg, that was because you're Norwegian."

"Whatever, okay? You're missing the point here, which is, Grissom's into some serious tough lovin'. And considering you have a more extensive and not to mention practical knowledge of his proclivities than most of us do, you should be fully aware of this bit of Grissom-trivia by now."

By the time they pulled into the driveway of the bungalow, rain was falling steadily; they could see Nick's sisters hurrying to throw a white canvas over the chairs that had already been arranged in neat rows on the grass.

Nick sighed, and snapped open his seatbelt with more force than necessary.

"And it just keeps getting better," he muttered darkly.


* * *



Catherine bumped into Warrick in the locker room. Warrick's floating hooker case had wrapped in good time, considering he was working solo since Sara had been roped into Catherine and Grissom's double murder case.

"Hey, Cath," Warrick greeted, as he zipped up his backpack. "You're still here. Oh yeah, you must be covering for Grissom?"

Catherine leaned against the doorway. "Nope, Grissom's also still here."

"What?" Warrick checked his watch. "It's already eleven. Doesn't he get married in two hours' time? Where's Nick?"

"Nick's gone to get things ready at the bungalow." Catherine replied. "And apparently, this isn't a wedding, it's just a," she gestured the inverted commas for emphasis, "commitment ceremony. Big difference, according to Grissom."

"Ahh," Warrick gave a wry smile as he closed his locker. "Think he's getting cold feet?"

"You mean, besides the fact that he nibbled Nick's head off when Nick came in this morning to ask what time he's clearing out of the lab?"

"Ouch." Warrick winced. "How'd Nick take that?"

"You know Nick. Like a soldier." Catherine paused. "But I could see it hit a raw spot. Poor Nicky."

"Can't say I'm entirely surprised, though." Warrick clicked his lock shut and turned to face Catherine, who was eyeing him questioningly. "About Grissom, I mean. Oh come on, stop looking at me like that, don't tell me you ever imagined we'd be attending Grissom's wedding - commitment ceremony - whatever?"

"Wait a minute," Catherine said with a small frown, "so you think he got together with Nick like, what, as a default or something? Because it happened so soon after he saved Nick's life?"

"Nah, that's not it," Warrick shook his head. "I mean, I'm not denying what happened to Nick changed Grissom on a fundamental level, even though he'd never admit that. But it's just... the guy's programmed to function autonomously. It's like he feeds off his own independence, his own space, his own damn universe."

"Well," Catherine regarded Warrick with an arched eyebrow, "obviously Nick should've consulted you before asking Gil to marry - commit - whatever him."

"Wait, so Nick asked Grissom?" Warrick perked up. "And you know this for a fact, how?"

"Trust me," Catherine said, with a roll of her eyes. "The one that starts freaking out first, popped the question."

"Then shouldn't it mean Grissom's the one who asked Nick?"

"Don't think we've quite caught Grissom in full freak-out mode," Catherine said portentously. "Not yet, anyway."

"So," Warrick clarified, "Nick's already freaking out?"

"I'd say ten bucks and a beer says yes," Catherine said, with a parting look. "But, you know. You get the picture."


* * *



"What?" Nick said incredulously into the phone. "You've got what? - when did this happen? This morning. Right. - Right, yes, I understand, doctor's instructions. I suppose it can't be helped then. Hey, do you by any chance have a buddy who's free to cover for you, or something...? Yes. Okay. Well, if you can get someone, call me. Okay. Thanks."

Nick snapped his phone shut. "Dammit!"

Greg peeked up. "What? What now?"

"The minister that's supposed to be here - he just developed sore eyes this morning. Apparently he caught it from his nephew who got it when he wore some reused 3-D glasses at a movie." Nick flopped down in a chair and swore again under his breath.

Greg eyed him carefully. "So what are you going to do? Does he have like a backup, or a trainee minister Level-1 or something?"

"He's checking to see if anyone's available on short notice, but it's pretty slim chances." Nick flipped open his phone and was about to make a call when a taxi appeared around the bend of the driveway and his sister Claire yelled for him to get on over.

Greg followed Nick just as Mrs. Jillian Stokes elegantly stepped out of the taxi, a small overnight bag in tow. Nick quickly took the bag from her and put it on the ground; they embraced, and Jillian kissed her son on his cheek.

"Mom," Nick said as he pulled back, "where's Dad?"

"Oh, Nicky." Jillian Stokes looked genuinely sorrowful. "Believe me, your father would've loved to be here... but there was this case, it was urgent and he couldn't - he really wanted to come."

Her words hung uncomfortably in the air; Claire and Gina exchanged uncertain looks, and Nick's expression darkened.

"No he didn't." Nick bit out the words, and his voice was filled with hurt and thinly controlled anger. "He didn't come because he just couldn't bear to see his youngest son being with another man."

"No!" Jillian exclaimed, looking more distraught. "No, honey, that's not true, your father thinks very highly of Gil, he has ever since -"

"You don't have to explain for him, Mom," Nick cut her off brusquely. "It's fine, I get it. Look, let's forget it, all right? I'm just glad you're here."

"Oh, Nick..." She looked as if she wanted to say more, but seemed to decide against it at the last moment and settled for just hugging Nick again instead. "Where's Gil?"

Nick looked away.

"Guess Dad's not the only one with an urgent case for an excuse," he said bitterly.

"What?"

"Gil's still at the lab, Mom. He's still working."


* * *



Catherine waited until the clock struck exactly twelve before striding with deliberate intent into Grissom's office.

"All right," she declared. "That's it. Right now."

Grissom blinked up at her. "What?"

"Grissom, " Catherine looked at him, chagrined. "Hello? Ceremony? One o'clock? Any of this ringing a bell? And by the way, you left your cell phone -" she dropped Grissom's phone on the table, "in the break room."

Grissom looked at his cell phone, which was vibrating in silent mode with a soft brr-brr, as if it were an alien object. "Oh. I didn't realize."

Catherine nodded towards the other phone on Grissom's table, half-buried under pages of paper. "Did you also not realize that your office line's off the hook?"

"I need to finish this case, Catherine. I work best when I'm not disturbed."

"What you need to do," Catherine said firmly. "is get your butt off that chair, into your car and to your commitment ceremony. Right now."

Grissom set down his notes, took off his glasses and looked at Catherine. His expression was inscrutable; but he didn't move, nor show any signs of intending to. Catherine picked Gil's phone off the table, looked at the missed calls, made an infuriated sound and decided that she had just about run out of patience.

"What is the matter with you, Grissom?" She used the tone she reserved for Lindsay's most petulant of moods. "Remember Nick? The guy you live with? The one you promised to -"

"I can't."

Catherine stared at Grissom, who held her gaze levelly, a barely perceptible shimmer in his eyes.

"No," Catherine said, horror dawning in her voice, "No no no no no, Grissom, you are not doing this to him, not now -"

"I can't," Grissom repeated, "I can't figure out what he wants from me, Catherine. And without what, I can't get to why."

Catherine looked at him, aghast.

"Gil," she said, switching to her I'm-trying-to-be-rational-here-but-you'd-better-listen-up voice, "just so you know, this is a really bad time to start figuring something like that out."

Grissom dropped his gaze.

"This was all Nick's idea," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Catherine shot back, "I kinda figured. You know, with him arranging everything and all. And oh, not forgetting the part where he's about to be stranded at a commitment ceremony in front of a hundred people, with only one half of the commitment part."

Grissom's head snapped up.

"There's going to be a hundred people?" he echoed, almost faintly.

"Seemed so from the guest list Nick showed me." Catherine narrowed her eyes. "Didn't you sign the invitation cards?"

Grissom had the decency to look abashed. "Only for those people I know. Nick signed the rest for me."

Gil took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. The look on his face was weary, unhappy.

"Truth is, Catherine," he said, and it was the plain, brutal honesty in his voice that shocked Catherine the most, "I don't want a commitment ceremony. I never wanted any of this."


* * *



"Maybe he's stuck in traffic?" Greg suggested.

"Greg, it's Saturday afternoon heading out of Vegas. What traffic?"

Nick flung his cell phone onto the dresser table after dialing Gil's number for what seemed like the millionth time. His tie was looped untied around his neck, his hair ruffled; and Greg would've mused on the cute tousled-casual look that did good on Nick, except for the murderous look in Nick's eyes as he glared at around the room.

"What the hell is WRONG with him?" Nick snarled. "Why isn't he picking up his goddamn fucking phone!"

Greg was alarmed; because when Nick Stokes started swearing like Warrick at a roulette table, something very bad was definitely going down and Greg, being the most convenient target, did not quite enjoy his current position. And it really wasn't fair on him because this was all Grissom's fault.

But in the name of being a good friend, Greg tried to say something.

"Nick, please, let's not overreact here -"

Nick spun on him; and the anger that he saw in Nick's usually smiling eyes was enough to make Greg flinch inside and realize, too late, that right now saying nothing would probably help the most.

"First I get called back on my night off, when I really needed the time to get things ready for this. Then when I finally get off a killer shift, my car won't start. The caterers deliver the wrong menu, and then, the minister gets sore eyes and can't officiate. Then my father decides not to turn up because he can't stand the thought that I'm taking vows to be with another man. And now, the guy I'm supposed to be taking those vows to? Isn't here, is completely uncontactable and is nowhere to be found. GREG, I THINK I HAVE EARNED MY RIGHT TO OVERREACT!"

"Okay, okay!" Greg tried to placate him. "Point - all right, points, taken. But you really need to try and calm down..." one glance at Nick's expression sent Greg hurriedly backtracking, "okay, I know, you've earned your right. Sorry. But hey, it's still only half past twelve. I'm sure there's probably a perfectly logical reason why he's not here yet."

"And I'm sure it's the same perfectly logical reason why he's not answering my calls," Nick seethed, "because he's not coming."

Greg hopped to his feet. "Be right back," he said, ducked outside, ambushed Warrick and told him to watch Nick while he scurried off to a corner to make a phone call.


* * *



"Hey, Catherine." It was Greg, and he sounded nervous.

Catherine held the phone to her ear and stared across the table at Gil. "Greg, I can't talk right now."

"Yeah, but this is really important. Do you know where Grissom is? Because he's not here at the house, he's not answering his phone, and since Nick's dad and the minister are already a no-show, Nick's starting to -"

Catherine gritted her teeth. "Uh-huh."

"What do you mean - are you saying - wait, you're with Grissom, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, where the hell are you guys? Nick is going to have a major meltdown if he doesn't speak to Grissom, like, right now."

Catherine took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I'll sort it out," she told Greg shortly, and hung up.

"Let me guess," Grissom said, with a weird not-quite-smile twisting his mouth. "That was about me."

"Yeah, it was," Catherine told him. "And unless you get some perverse, egotistical pleasure out of all of this, I can't quite see what's so funny."

Grissom tilted his head pensively.

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves, by each let this be heard," he intoned; off Catherine's look, he explained, "Oscar Wilde. The Ballad Of Reading Gaol."

Catherine glared at him. "And your point is?"

Gil looked away, and in that split moment Catherine saw a vulnerable, conflicted side of him that she had never seen before. And the fact that Nick could make Gil this way, could change him enough to break through that little Gil-universe and unsettle it enough to precipitate something like this - Gil Grissom not knowing what to say, what to do - this, Catherine realized, this was worth fighting for. Worth saving.

"You know, Lindsay's gonna be there," Catherine leaned forward, and there was a new intensity in her eyes as she waited for Gil to meet her gaze. "Nick told me that he'd understand if I didn't want her to attend - but I wanted her to come, got a neighbor to drive her there. She thought it was a little weird at first, that two guys were getting married -"

Grissom didn't react, but there was a stiffening in his jaw at Catherine's words.

"But you know what I told her?" Catherine continued. "I said, honey, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if they're two guys or two girls or one guy and one girl - what matters is that they care enough about each other to make a promise. That's all that counts. And now she's at the house, waiting for the ceremony where Nick is going to promise to be with you for as long as he can keep that promise, and knowing Nick? It's gonna be a helluva long time."

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that," Gil said slowly.

"Gil," Catherine said impatiently, "do you love him or not?"

The question hung in the stillness for what seemed like forever. Gil looked at her; and something altered in his eyes, but Catherine couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Yes," Grissom finally said, very softly. "I do."

Catherine strode forward, grabbed him by the arm and forcibly yanked him to his feet.

"Then stop reciting poetry and moping around feeling sorry for yourself," she ordered, "and get the hell over there and tell Nick just that."

She reached over, and snatched the car keys off Gil's table. "And I'm driving."


* * *



They barreled up the driveway at five minutes to one, Catherine having driven close to breaking the sound barrier and probably having used up a year's worth of get-out-of-speeding-tickets-free cards. The garden was already filled with guests as she and Gil got out of the car, and ran towards the house.

Catherine collided into Warrick at the front doorway; Gil was several steps behind her.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Warrick said, catching her and steadying her.

"Where's Nick?" Catherine demanded breathlessly.

Warrick pointed up the stairs, and Gil shouldered past them both inside the house. Warrick and Catherine exchanged looks.

"You owe me ten bucks and a beer," Warrick said grimly.

They followed as Gil reached the top of the stairs and entered the first room on the right. The ensuing explosion of voices - actually, just Nick's - was enough to send them hurrying up two steps at a time. And the scene inside the room that greeted them made Catherine wish that she never had to witness something like this. Not between Gil and Nick.

"Where the FUCK have you been?" Nick was yelling; Greg hovered awkwardly behind him, as if preparing to restrain Nick if he did something stupid, like maybe killing Grissom with his bare hands. "Why won't you answer my calls? Do you have any idea -"

"Nick -"

"Is this some kind of game to you, Grissom?" Nick was shaking from rage; he looked utterly undone, and his eyes were wild with anger, hurt, and something else. "Is that it? Are you doing this like some, some duty to me, or are you just doing this out of pity? Because if you never wanted to in the first place, all you had to do was -"

"Nick," Gil raised his voice, in that forceful calm way that always made everyone shut the hell up and listen. "Look. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been this late. But I'm here now, and I think there's a ceremony out there waiting for us."

Gil paused, and a flicker of sadness crossed his face.

"That is," he finished contritely, "if you'd still like to do this together."

Nick stared at him; the anger drained from his face as quickly as it had arisen, and was replaced by sheer exhaustion.

"Grissom," Nick finally said, his voice choking with emotion, "when have I ever given you the impression that I didn't?"

Gil reached out and pulled Nick towards him. Nick resisted at first; but Gil firmly took him in his arms, holding him close. Gil was whispering something, his lips moving almost soundlessly against Nick's ear - and before long Nick's trembling hands went around Gil's back, and he was clinging to him, hugging him back fiercely, his face streaked with tears of emotions chafed raw.

Next to Catherine, Warrick exhaled in a slow sigh of relief. Greg looked as if he was ready to collapse.

When Nick finally pulled back, he was smiling tearfully at Grissom.

"If you haven't prepared your vows," he warned, between a laugh and wet eyes, "I swear, I'm gonna..."

Gil smiled.

"No," he said. "I've got them."

They stood there gazing at each other for a long moment; which was nice, Catherine thought, except that there was a garden full of guests waiting downstairs and it was already one o'clock.

"Uh," she said, clearing her throat. "Sorry to break this up, people, but we really need to get moving here. Grissom, you go get changed. Warrick, mind checking to make sure everything downstairs is ready to go? And announce that the ceremony is starting shortly. Greg, tell Nick's family that everything's fine, it's all going as planned and there's nothing to worry about."

And suddenly it was like just another busy night at the lab, and everyone immediately scurried off to their tasks. Catherine caught a brief smile on Gil's face as he turned away and hurried off to change into his tux. Nick was dabbing his face with tissues, trying to pat down the puffy rings under his eyes.

"Hey, Nicky," Catherine said, going over to him and helping him to dust off his suit, straighten his tie. "Greg tells me that your minister couldn't be here. It's perfectly fine to go ahead as it is, but if the two of you'd like to have someone to say a few words before you exchange your vows, I'm happy to do it. No pressure, no obligation. Just here if you need me."

Nick looked at her, stunned; and then he broke into such a big, spontaneous smile that Catherine would've felt a real twinge in her heart for him if he wasn't already spoken for.

"You know what, Catherine," Nick said, his voice still a little choked up, "I would really, really love that. Both of us would."

"Great," Catherine patted him on the arm. "I'll see you two downstairs, then."


* * *



The ceremony began at quarter past one. Gil finally appeared downstairs, looking a little flushed but very smart in his tux. Catherine was sure the bow tie was done by Nick; and that in itself had a very sweet, endearing quality. Nick, as usual, looked handsome in his black suit-and-tie ensemble - and with the broad, genuine smile on his face, anyone would miss the faint shadows under his eyes unless they looked really closely.

Center stage was the little pagoda in the middle of the garden, and once Gil and Nick were seated in the front row, Catherine stepped up onto the raised podium.

"Thank you all for your patience, and we apologize for the slight delay," she said, smiling at the audience - she caught sight of Lindsay sitting next to Sara in the second row. "On behalf of Gil and Nick, I'd like to warmly welcome you to this special occasion. I'm hardly ordained to do this, but I'll do my best and Gil can try to get me fired afterwards."

There was a titter of laughter in response; Catherine drew a breath, and sobered.

"I've known both Gil and Nick for almost eight years," she said. "We started off as colleagues, then became friends, and soon they were just like family to me. And you couldn't find a more dedicated, unwavering and strong person than Gil, or someone as compassionate, kind and selfless as Nick. Anyone who knows them would know exactly what I mean - and I'm sure either of them, or both, has been there for us at one time or another.

"And we're gathered here today because they've decided to make a promise, in front of all their friends and loved ones, to be there for each other. In rough times and good, through anything life throws our way. And you know something?" Catherine paused, and looked at Gil and Nick. "They don't really need to make this promise. Because they've already kept it. Many times over, and in ways that most of us only wish we'd be able to do, if we were in the same situation."

She halted, and smiled down at them.

"So now, I'd like to invite Gil and Nick up here to exchange their vows."


* * *



It was surreal, Nick thought, as Catherine finished her speech and he got to his feet with the sound of applause in his ears. Then Gil's hand closed around his, and suddenly everything flooded back, the realness of here and now, and Nick had to will himself not to get emotional all over again. His vision was slightly blurry as he stepped up to the pagoda, and his grip on Gil's hand tightened. Gil squeezed back - warm, strong, always there.

It was an unspoken understanding between them that Nick would go first, and Nick was glad for that, because he didn't think his composure could hold up too long. They stood next to each other; Nick took a deep breath, and began.

"When I first came to Vegas, I was looking for independence," he said, and was surprised at how steady his own voice was. "I wanted to prove what I could do, how I could make a difference and, above all, be my own person."

Nick glanced at the expectant faces in the audience; then he looked at Gil, standing opposite him, ever calm with a serene smile on the edges of his lips, and everything else just seemed to fade into the periphery.

"Then I met you," he said to Gil. "And you gave me a chance to do all that, and a whole lot more. You taught me how to face my fears, face the darkness, but you were always there to make sure it never touched me deep enough to change me. And really, the one thing that's always kept me grounded," Nick gave a self-deprecating laugh, which elicited some smiles in the audience, "the only thing that's kept me sane through some of the craziest things that've happened in my life - is you, Gil."

Nick dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew the box holding the ring.

"You've shown me that it's possible to give a part my life to someone without having to give up the rest of it along with that," Nick continued; with slightly trembling hands he opened the box and took out the ring. "And that's what I want to do, Gil. I want to be with you. For as long as you'll be with me."

He reached for Gil's left hand; and Nick could feel Gil's gaze on him, following his every move as he very carefully slid the ring onto Gil's fourth finger. Then Nick pulled back, and he felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched Gil's reaction.

Gil was staring down at his hand, as if curiously surprised by the way he wore the ring on his finger. A thrill of anticipation ran through Nick, and he waited for Gil to take his turn.

Gil didn't move for several long moments; then he reached inside his tux, and took out a ring from the inner pocket. He barely glanced up as he reached for Nick's hand, and slid the ring onto Nick's finger; all the while, he said nothing.

Nick blinked, confused. Oh no, he thought, he forgot he's supposed to say his vows first. A low murmur from the audience echoed his sentiments.

But when Gil let go of Nick's hand and finally met his gaze, Nick saw there was nothing forgetful or accidental about this. Gil's eyes were filled with raw, plain, truthful intensity; and there was such tenderness, like nothing Nick had ever seen before.

"Nick," Gil said simply, "I love you."

Then he leaned forward, took Nick's face in his hands and kissed him.

Nick's eyes fell closed the moment Gil's lips touched his - and he could barely react, barely think amidst the sweet painful explosion in his chest, breaking him, sending a rush of warmth and emotion that made tears spill from his closed eyes and made him ache so exquisitely that he thought he would pass out, then and there, with Gil Grissom kissing him as if he was the only one in this world that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, Nick opened his eyes, dazed, to the sound of rapturous applause all around them. Gil was smiling at him, and as he turned his face, Nick saw that everyone in the garden was on their feet, clapping and smiling.

In the front row Catherine was wiping the sides of her eyes, Greg was grinning and Warrick was making catcalls. Behind them, Brass' usual deadpan look couldn't quite hide an indulgent smile; and Doc Robbins, leaning on his walking stick, had his other hand cupped over his mouth and was whooping loudly. Next to them, standing next to Lindsay, Sara was blinking rapidly and trying her very best to smile.

Nick turned back to Gil and kissed him quickly again, on the side of his mouth. Gil opened his arms and Nick immediately found his place in their embrace - he closed his eyes, linking his hands around Gil's back. And the laughter and tears and sound of applause, the unfamiliar cool weight now wrapped around his fourth finger and the wonderful scent of being so close to Gil, all coalesced in Nick's mind into a single, brilliant, unforgettable memory.


* * *



The garden party was a fascinating hodge-podge of people - about half were from the lab or employed in some other form of law enforcement in Las Vegas. Nick's immediate family and other friends and relatives made up another chunk, which promptly pounced on Nick as soon as he and Gil stepped off the pagoda.

Gil graciously backed away to let a five-sisters-and-a-mother shaped pile-up bury Nick under teary hugs and kisses. He stood nearby, shook hands and chatted with Nick's older brother and his fiancée, a postgraduate from Harvard planning to write a research paper on forensic medicine.

Everyone was so occupied that no one noticed until the gruff voice spoke loudly from behind them.

"Pancho."

Gil glanced up just in time to see Nick spin around, stunned. Judge Bill Stokes was standing there, smartly dressed in a navy suit, a lopsided smile on his face as he took in the sight of his son surrounded by the rest of his family.

"Dad?" Nick stared at him incredulously. "What are you - I thought - I thought you were busy with a case."

"Is that really what you thought?" Bill Stokes asked deliberately; but there was no rancor in his voice, and off Nick's guilty look, he shook his head and continued, "There was an urgent case, but nothing so important that I was going to let ol' Pancho think Cisco bailed on him."

Bill caught sight of Grissom; the two men stepped forward and shook hands, somewhat solemnly. By then, Jillian Stokes had found her way to her husband's side, and Nick had extricated himself from the others to come over to stand next to Gil.

"I missed the first part of your vows," Bill said to Nick, and then spoke to Grissom, "but I caught all of yours."

Bill glanced at his wife, who nodded.

"Jillian and I will always be grateful for what you did for our boy," Bill told him. "You saved his life, and I can't think of a better reason for the two of you to make things work together."

Gil smiled; he took Nick's hand in his own, and felt Nick's fingers immediately closing around his.

"Thank you very much," he told Nick's parents. "Your presence here today means a great deal to Nick and me."

Gil paused, and met Bill Stokes' gaze.

"But with all due respect, sir," he continued in a clear voice, "that's not the reason I'm still here. Or why I've chosen to be with your son."

Next to him, Gil felt Nick freeze. For a moment the surprise on Bill and Jillian's faces seemed to darken; but then the brief tension flickered and dissipated, and Bill Stokes' stern demeanor crinkled in a smile that silently articulated a newly acknowledged respect.

"Of course," he rumbled, giving Gil a warm pat on the back. "I wouldn't have expected anything less. Not just of you," he added, "but for Nick."


* * *



"Everyone's gotta let go sometime, I guess," Greg said.

Sara looked at him. "What?"

Greg gave her an oh-come-on look, and cocked his head towards Gil and Nick, who were speaking to Mr. And Mrs. Stokes in the distance.

"What, Grissom?" Sara gave a laugh that was just a little too quick and a pitch too high. "That was years ago, Greg, and he's been with Nick forever since then."

"I know," Greg said. "Doesn't really change things, though, does it? I like Nick - yeah, in that way - and it wasn't easy when he got together with Grissom because hey, how could I ever compete with that, right?"

"Never could," Sara agreed, and they both knew she wasn't just talking about Greg.

"Glad they're happy, though," Greg mused, watching as Nick's father patted Grissom genially on the back. "I mean, god knows they deserve it."

Sara didn't respond directly to that, and Greg didn't blame her. Her reason for coming to Las Vegas was Grissom. It had to hurt, seeing Grissom choose to be with someone else in the end.

"I guess we'll have to wait our turn," Sara said quietly. "To find the right one."

"Yeah," Greg said, glancing at her, and then over at Nick and Grissom. "We'll just wait our turn."


* * *



"You got off real easy, you know that?"

Catherine sat back on the sofa, and shot Gil a pointed look over her glass of punch.

"Yes," Gil agreed. "I'm quite aware of it."

They had retreated inside the living room away from the other guests for long enough to have a chat, just the two of them.

"Nicky, Nicky," Catherine shook her head with an almost disbelieving laugh. "Only Nicky can find a way to forgive something like what you did in time to save the day." She paused. "But I guess that's just who he is, isn't it? Always seeing the good in people. That's how he brings out the best in them."

"And that's what makes him special," Gil said, softly. He tilted his head to look at her. "Thanks, Catherine."

"No problem." Catherine gave a shrug and a smile. "You know me - I just looove stealing a bit of the limelight."

"Not just that, for... before. Back at the office. I needed to hear some of those things you said."

"Oh, Gil." Catherine set down her glass, reached over and hugged him affectionately. "We all take the people we love for granted sometimes, start forgetting how much we really care about them." She looked through the open window at Nick, who was out in the garden, laughing and taking photos with his family. "What's important is, we don't forget to remember again."

She glanced back to see Gil looking out the window, as well. His gaze lingered on Nick; and Catherine could see the expression of sheer contentment on Gil's face.

"You got something good here, Gil," Catherine said, "same goes for Nick. Don't let what you two have slip away too easily."

Gil got to his feet.

"I won't," he said, and Catherine could hear the quiet, steel determination in his voice. "That I can assure you."


* * *



Gil left Catherine lounging inside the house and headed outside, straight towards Nick, who was taking photos with his sisters on either side of him. As he approached (with some measure of trepidation), Gil was instantly roped into the picture-taking whirlpool, despite feeble protests - he lost count of how many times the shutter clicked and flashlights went off before the photo session was finally declared over.

As the guests crowded around the digital cameras jostling to see the pictures just taken, Gil tapped Nick lightly on the shoulder.

"Care to take a walk with me?" he said, gesturing down the long driveway to a distance away, where they could have a little privacy.

Nick smiled. "Sure."

They started walking together, and somehow the people they passed by just nodded at them and didn't interrupt to chat. They walked along the grassy edge of the driveway, until they were out of earshot of everyone else.

"So," Nick said. "What's up?"

Gil halted, and turned to Nick.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said quietly, looking straight into Nick's eyes. "For what happened before. I was selfish, and thoughtless, and I should never have made you upset like that."

Nick tilted his head wryly.

"Yeah," he said, but there was no accusation in his voice, "I was kinda wondering about that. So, what happened?"

It was a good question, and Gil thought Nick deserved an honest answer. He paused, and gave it some serious thought.

"I don't know," Gil finally said; and that was the truth.

Nick looked at him for a moment.

"Okay, then," he said. "Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," Nick said with a shrug. "It's all right if you don't know. Because if you did, then I'd actually have something to worry about."

Gil couldn't suppress his amusement. "That is the strangest, most non-scientific approach I have ever heard of, Nick."

Nick dropped his gaze, somewhat bashfully, and Gil never could resist Nick whenever he did that. He had experienced it enough times in the lab, felt the sharp tug of yearning every single time.

"What are you thinking?" Gil asked, a small smile on the edges of his lips.

Nick raised his eyes to Gil's again.

"Actually," he answered with a grin, "I was kinda thinking about you and me sneaking off for a few minutes to make out."

"Really." Gil quirked an eyebrow, and then, "just for a few minutes?"

Nick let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

"Gil, there are guests around, you know," he said, although without as much conviction in his voice as stirring arousal. "A lot of 'em."

"Wonderful thing about so many guests," Gil replied, smiling, "is they tend to mingle and interact and find ways to keep each other entertained. It's almost exothermic."

"Is this your idea of a scientific approach?"

"That depends. Are you convinced?"

"Well," Nick considered, and it didn't take very long. "Hey, the bedroom door locks properly from the inside. How about it?"


* * *



"Whoa there," Catherine said, stepping out of the bathroom downstairs just in time to see Gil and Nick heading so intently towards the stairs that they didn't even see her. "What's the hurry, boys?"

"Uh, hey Cath," Nick hastily turned around, and made as if he was heading to the kitchen. "Just going to, uh, get some ice."

Catherine looked from Nick to Gil and then back again.

"Yeah, sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're going to get some all right, but I'm pretty sure it's not ice."

Nick blushed. Next to him, Gil laughed out loud.

"If anyone asks," Gil told Catherine, as he took Nick's hand and tugged him along up the stairs, "you didn't see us."

As they left Catherine standing at the staircase landing, shaking her head with her arms crossed over her chest, Nick realized - yeah, so everything today didn't go as planned. His car was still at the lab with a flat tire, and he's still pretty sure the guests would've liked the ham and cheese sandwiches better. But then, so what? Catherine had covered for the absent minister, and Nick thought she did a far better job of it than he could ever have; and his father made it for the ceremony after all.

And Gil. Nothing more needed to be said.

Yeah, Nick thought, everything had worked out, after all; at least, in the best way that anyone could hope for.




- fin -

***