Previous part of part of The Day Before You.

***

Chapter 25: New Beginnings

"Stop!" Greg raced to the front door of the house and blocked it with his body.

"Outta my way, honey." Nick motioned for his partner to step aside.

"Are you crazy, Cletus? You can't storm off to the station like this. You're still on probation from flipping out when that little girl was murdered by her father. If you show up piss drunk and pissed off, you'll lose your job."

"I'm not drunk," Nick assured his partner as he snatched his keys from their entryway hook.

"You had to leave your truck at The Watering Hole and take a cab home, because you downed five shots of tequila and who knows how many beers."

Nick stared at the keys in his hand. "I forgot about that."

"A sober person wouldn't forget they rode home in a cab," Greg scolded in frustration. "If you're still skeptical, think about this…if you were sober, would you have volunteered to munch my bare ass in bed?"

When Jan gasped, the bickering couple remembered they weren't alone and responded by cringing in unison.

"I can't believe you're engaging in unprotected oral contact in that region!" Jan marched forward shaking her finger. "Do the words hepatitis, parasites, and E-coli mean anything horrific to you? They should!"

Since he doubted his mother would hear anything he said, Greg made the time out sign to get her attention. "Mom!"

"You know I wasn't thrilled when I heard you stopped using condoms, but in my heart I believe you won't cheat on each other, so I can sleep at night, but now that I know you're…"

"Mom!" Greg shouted above her ranting. "I didn't let him do it!" When she stopped rambling, he added, "He was trashed and not thinking clearly. I promise we've never been careless about it and never will be, so you can relax."

His cheeks flushing to a bright red, Nick nodded at Jan without making eye contact.

"Fine," Jan huffed, "but don't be surprised to find a year's supply of dental dams in your nightstand drawers when you come home tomorrow."

"It wouldn't surprise me at all." Greg made a mental note to put a padlock on the outside of the master bedroom door. "Now can we please stop discussing my ass and focus on the asshole at the station?" When his mother nodded, he breathed out in relief. "Thank you."

"I need you to drive me there, G." Nick grabbed his partner's hand. "Now."

"Not if you're going to lose your temper with your brother when we get there."

"I promise I won't."

"Don't believe him, Gregory!" Jan met Nick's eyes when he turned to face her. "I'm sorry, honey, but I'm not sure you're capable of controlling yourself while intoxicated. That holier-than-thou brother of yours is a moron. If Ghandi were alive, he'd deck the bastard and it's already been established that alcohol is impairing your judgment tonight." Reaching for her cell phone, she smiled, "But I know exactly how to keep you in line."

"How?" Nick asked while biting his tongue not to tell his future mother-in-law to stop meddling.

"By having Dave at the station with you. You're so desperate for his approval, you won't do anything inappropriate with him around."

"It's true." Greg nodded. "You have daddy issues."

---

"You really want to be a father?" Sara quietly asked, breaking the silence of the car ride home from the hospital.

Sensing Sara was not in agreement, he downplayed the significance, "It was a knee-jerk reaction to thinking I lost a child."

"But during a crisis the truth often comes out."

"What makes you think that?"

"You. It's exactly what you said after Nick's kidnapping and right before you told me you loved me."

"Oh." Grissom anxiously cleared his throat. "I forgot about that."

"You forgot one of the most significant moments of our relationship?" she said with more than a hint of irritation.

"No, what I meant was…I'm just…I've had a rough morning, Sara."

Confused and emotional, they once again opted for silence.

---

"Would you please stop crying," Officer Penny Batista snapped at the overly emotional blonde. "I'm not taking you to Booking."

Tawny lowered the ice pack from her face. "You're not?"

"As of right now, we have no evidence that money was exchanged for sexual favors."

"So, I'm free to go?"

The officer smiled and shook her head. "No. There still may be a disturbing the peace charge if you can't pay the hotel for damages and you have unpaid parking tickets and an unpaid speeding ticket."

"I was just about to pay those!"

"All 17 of them?"

Thinking it was 20, Tawny breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I have the check at home. I just didn't have a stamp to mail it."

"I'm sure." The cop pointed to the bench. "Sit there and wait for Sanders. Quietly. If I see another crocodile tear I'm putting you behind bars for wasting water in the desert."

Wiping her face, Tawny sat as directed. "I promise I'll be good." Returning the ice pack to her bruises, she pondered her options.

---

"I think I should head into the Lab," Grissom announced once Sara was settled on the couch. "I want to make sure Mrs. Vartann's charges aren't swept under the rug as a department courtesy."

"You mean like my DUI was?"

"You didn't hurt anyone, Sara. That woman almost killed you."

"I could have killed someone with my car," she countered, "I was just lucky I got pulled over before I did."

"Are you saying you don't want Connie Vartann to be charged for what she did to you?"

"She was out of her head," Sara shifted her eyes to the floor. "Because she found out her scum of a husband has been lying to her and cheating on her. I don't want him walking around a free man while that mentally abused and betrayed woman sits behind bars."

"As morally offensive as his actions are, Tony didn't commit a crime. We spend our days making sure victims get justice and now here you are an innocent victim of a violent crime and you want the perpetrator to walk. That's confusing."

Sara returned her gaze to her husband's "It wouldn't be confusing if you grew up watching your mother change into an obedient zombie, then a drunk, and finally a killer, thanks to her abusive husband."

"Is your gut telling you that Tony abused his wife physically?"

"It's telling me there's more to the story, and I'd rather see her get help than get time." Her voice trembling, she said, "Please don't make another decision for me, because one was already too much."

Grissom nodded. "I'll call you when I find out more and you can tell me what you want to do."

When her husband wrapped his hand around the doorknob, Sara said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied as he left.

---

When Carrie Blake stepped into the hallway from Interrogation Room B and saw a young woman with a busted lip sitting on a bench in the station, a familiar knot formed in her stomach. "Excuse me." Dedicated to helping abused women and children get justice, she took a seat next to the emotionally distraught girl who looked like a battered beauty queen. "My name is Carrie Blake. I'm with the DA's office and I specialize in prosecuting child and spousal abuse cases. I want to commend you for being brave enough to come down here and report your abuser. If more women had your courage…"

"I didn't come down here to report anything. They threw me in the back of a cop car and forced me here. The truth is…I'm really scared and I just want to go home."

Pitying the young woman, Carrie whispered, "Are you afraid of retaliation if you testify against your man?"

"No, I'm afraid the cops are gonna lock me up if I can't pay for my 17 outstanding parking tickets."

"17 outstanding tickets?" The concept was unfathomable to the overly responsible and organized attorney.

"Do you mind not judging me while I'm in pain?" Tawny pointed to her busted face. "I'm kind of preoccupied."

"Who hit you?"

"My asshole customer shoved me into a wall when I wouldn't give him a freebie the morning after."

"A freebie?" Carrie clarified, "A freebie sexual encounter?"

"Private dance," Tawny lied. "I'm an Exotic Dancer at Tweeters, but I do private gigs on the side. I met the jerk at a party and then he paid me for a dance back at his hotel room."

"Do you know how dangerous it is to go off with strangers behind closed doors?"

Tawny pointed to her busted face. "Duh." Rolling her eyes, she returned the ice pack to her growing bruise. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice, well-meaning person, but you're annoying the crap out of me when I already have a headache, so maybe instead of trying to save little old me, you can go rescue a kitten from a tree or something. I don't need any help."

"Tawny!" Greg called out when he saw her sitting on a bench.

"Chuckles!" Knowing the guy was a softie with deep pockets, she pushed out her busted boo-boo lip. "I could really use a hug and some help." And some cash!

Always jealous of Nick playing the dashing prince to female victims over the years, Greg embraced the savior role. "Don't worry, I'll help you, Princess."

Carrie rolled her eyes at the pathetic display. "I thought you didn't need any help?" She knew the type…a lost little girl who bounces from man to man looking to be saved from her sad reality.

"Who's the crabby chick?" Greg queried while hugging his damsel tight.

Watching his boy comforting the pretty young thing, Dave Sanders felt guilty for wishing for a moment that Tawny was his son's fiancée.

Meanwhile Nick hurried to the station desk. "Carlos!" he called out to his Sergeant buddy. "Hey man, I just found out that you brought my brother in on battery charges – Charles Stokes."

"Yeah, we gave you a courtesy call a while ago," Carlos told his pal "Where were you? We had to take him to Booking without ya. He's not handling it well. He keeps yelling about his big political career back in Dallas and your family's reputation. Your daddy's a judge on the Supreme Court, right?"

"Of Texas, not the Supreme Court of the United States."

"Don't even think about asking for a favor!" Carrie jumped to her feet and stomped to the desk as fast as her bargain-rack pumps would let her. "Just because you're LVPD and your daddy wears a judicial robe doesn't mean you and your family members have carte blanche around here. Women weren't put on this Earth to perform for men. We're not circus poodles for crying out loud!" Staring down the good 'ol boy CSI in front of her she snapped, "I suppose a big time ladies man like you finds that hard to believe."

"Excuse me?" Nick's alcohol infused emotions flared as he gawked at the petite spitfire whose dark brown eyes were glaring at him. "Have we slept together?" he quietly asked, concerned that he had forgotten another drunken tumble from his distant past.

"God, no!" Carrie shivered at the thought.

"Who are you then?"

"I'm ADA Carrie Blake and I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last available person on Earth."

"Hey now, what's with the attitude, Missy?" Nick snipped, "I'm one of the good guys."

"It's ADA Blake to you, and yes, I've heard all about how good you are, CSI Stokes, my first day on the job in the DA's Office as a matter of fact. I had the honorof listening to Tessa Clark sharing the details of your quality time with her in the County broom closet during a court recess. Her exact words were 'I needed a briefing on the evidence CSI Stokes was about to present and I was horny from staring at his hot bod in a fitted suit all morning, so I offered to go down while he gave me a run down, then he turned me around and had me screaming his name in record time. That cowboy can lasso me anytime.'" She placed a hand over her heart. "The part about you offering to dispose of the used condom so she would have more time to fix her hair sounded soooooo romantic. I bet the sweet cowboy routine really makes the little ladies swoon, huh?" She feigned an adoring smile. "Tell me…did you keep her panties as a souvenir or just add another notch to your bedpost?"

"Well I don't rightly recall ma'am," he snarked in his best hick accent. "Hmm, wait a sec, now that I'm thinkin' about it, she wasn't wearin' any of them there panties y'all like to buy from Victoria's Dirty Little Secret, so sadly no, I didn't git to keep any. Since I sleep in a barn with the other animals, I don't have a bed post, but don't you worry your purty little head, I put a big 'ol notch on my rodeo belt instead." After the joke was over, he snapped, "So Tessa and I had consensual safe sex to release some pent up courtroom tension, you should know that's not a crime, ADA Blake." He stuffed his hands on his hips. "Jeeeeez. What's your deal, sweetheart? Are ya jealous?"

"Hell, no, I'm not jealous! And don't you dare call me sweetheart!"

Nick winked and flashed his classic cowboy smile, "Okay, honey, I won't."

At times like these, Dave Sanders struggled to believe Nick was really gay. "We're not supposed to be making a scene here, Nick, remember?" Or making time.

"I'm not." Nick pointed at the crazy lady. "She is. She's one of those whackjob man-hating feminists who think all men are created equally scummy, believe me, I know the type. My sister Marcia is the Club President."

While Greg's protective father was preoccupied with the stud and the Femanazi psycho, Tawny whispered, "Chuckles, do you think you could spot me some cash? I have a few unpaid parking tickets and they won't let me go until I pay them."

"Sure, how much do you need? Two, three hundred?"

Officer Batista had perfect timing. "Ms. Cooper, with late fees you're up to $2,327."

"Doh!" Greg exclaimed. "You're waaaay too expensive for me, girly. You must be confusing me with Richie Rich. I'm a poor County employee with a mortgage, not a Sugar Daddy or a Country Club kid with a trust fund."

"How about we deduct it from my future surrogate fee?" she asked with a hopeful lilt.

Greg laughed, "That's my crazy mother asking you to do the surrogacy thing. Nick and I haven't really started thinking about when or how we'd want to have a baby."

"Pleeeeeeease, I don't want to go to jail, Chuckles." Real tears started forming. "Do you know what happens to girls like me in the County lock-up? The guards and the lezzies will take turns doing me and the straight chicks will beat me to a pulp for being Barbie-esque!"

Always a sucker for a pretty girl with big boobs, Greg relented, "Okay, okay, I'm sure we can work something out. Maybe Cletus can split the loan with me and you can be our maid to pay us back."

"A maid? Are you kidding? I'd ruin my nails cleaning," Tawny lamented before cozying up. "I could provide other services though. You're Bi, right?"

"The duality of my sexuality aside, there is the legality of keeping a sex slave to consider," Greg laughed, "and Cletus and I have a 'no threesomes' policy in our relationship."

"If I service you separately," she bubbled, "we can avoid the 'threesome clause' no problem!"

"Hey, Nick!" The Sergeant pointed. "Here comes your brother."

Carrie huffed at the cocky stud, "Even though your brother abused a woman tonight, you're coming to his rescue?"

"Not exactly."

"Nicky!" Chuck yelled. "Thank God you're here, Bro!"

"Pig bastard!" Tawny screamed at her abuser while leaping out of Greg's arms. "I hope you rot in jail! And to make it worse, I hope you get some big time butt love from your cell mate!"

When he reached Nick's side, Greg snickered in his ear. "Is it my imagination, or is she talking about butt love like it's a bad thing?"

Still buzzing from the booze he had consumed, Nick burst into laughter.

"Hey." Dave scolded them with a look. "This is a serious situation."

"Sorry, Sir," they chimed like naughty schoolboys.

One look at Chuck Stokes's smug expression had Tawny winding up her purse for a swing at the jerk.

"You people are crazy," Carrie muttered, but as she turned to leave, she got clipped in the head by Tawny's heavy purse and knocked off her feet.

"Whoa!" Nick caught the ADA just as she was about to slam into the floor.

"Sorry! I didn't mean it!" Tawny panicked when she realized she had decked the lady from the DA's office. "Does it count as assault if I meant to hit him instead of her, but missed him? I mean he totally deserves to be hit for what he did to my face, doncha think?"

"Just stay still," Greg directed while pulling the wacky stripper back into his arms. "You're trouble with a capital T, Tawny." Knowing her sad personal history of abuse and abandonment, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her even when she was causing problems and scheming for cash. "Don't say or do anything else."

Seeing the guys with women in their arms had Dave smiling. I feel bad for thinking it, but this looks so right to me. Nick and Carrie look great together and Jan is correct, Tawny and Greg's little Scandinavian babies would be beautiful.

Nick swept the ADA up into his arms and brought her to a bench. "Miss, are you okay?"

"Mmm." Rubbing her head, Carrie slowly opened her eyes. "What happened?"

"Tawny accidentally bonked you in the noggin with her purse. It has lots of chains and clunky rhinestones on it, so it took ya down fast." With his fingertips, he gently inspected her head. "You're not bleedin', but you'll probably have some nasty bruising."

"Why are you holding me?" she asked as she wiggled out of the cowboy's arms.

"Because I caught you before you slammed into the floor and you're still out of it." Smiling, Nick assured her, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna take advantage of ya. The reputation you know of is a little out dated. When I fooled around with Tessa Clark in the closet, I really was in the closet. I'm gay. I've only been out for a few months, even to myself. Greg over there is my partner."

"You just figured out you're gay?" she remarked with surprise while sitting up on her own.

"Yeah, it's a long story. Let's just say I had some childhood drama that left me confused for a long time. I don't really like to talk about it though."

"It's okay, you don't have to explain. We are strangers after all."

Wanting to start over, he extended his hand. "Nick Stokes, CSI."

"Carrie Blake, ADA." She accepted the handshake with a smile.

"Now we're not strangers," Nick sweetly informed his newest acquaintance.

Feeling bad for blasting the guy who really did seem very gentlemanly in hindsight, she said, "Thank you for catching me."

"Hey, I'm a cowboy, so helpin' purty little ladies in distress is part of the job description." Laughing, he asked, "Be honest…are ya swoonin'?"

"Sorry, Tex," she chuckled, "but in all fairness to you, I'm a lesbian."

"I suspected as much."

"The feminist rhetoric?"

"Your totally butch pumps."

"Only a guy with queer eyes would notice my shoes instead of my boobs."

"No offense, but your Bs don't stand out in this city full of silicone Ds, and I've always been more of an ass man."

"That really should have been your first gay hint."

After a mutual laugh, he said, "Hey, if you're okay, I'm gonna get back to blasting my brother."

"By all means."

After leaving Carrie's side, Nick walked over to confront his brother. "Chuck, did you honestly think I came here to bail you out of this mess?"

"Think of your nieces and nephew, Nicky." The older brother pleaded, "If I'm in jail I can't pay the bills. Melanie's not worked a day in her life. She's a stay-at-home mom, that's all she's ever wanted to be. She's pregnant with number four right now. She can't go out and get a job. Can't you help me make this go away?"

"I could." Nick smiled. "But I won't."

Tawny screeched, "You slept with me while your wife is pregnant? Oh my god! You're an even bigger prick than I thought."

"I thought you didn't have sex with him," the Officer droned.

"Dammit!" Tawny hung her head. "I'm such a blurter."

Greg sneered at the cad, "I can't believe you're going to be my brother-in-law, Stokes."

"I'm not gonna be your brother-in-law, you friggin' faggot!" Chuck barked at the wuss, "you and Nicky can call what you're doin' a wedding, but it's not gonna be a legal marriage and that means I won't be anything to you after you say 'I do'. Don't you get it? Your life is a big fucking farce. You can call a goose a cow, but at the end of the day, it's not gonna give you milk."

Tawny retorted, "You mean like how you can wear an Armani suit and call yourself a gentleman, but underneath the designer duds you're still swine?"

"Like the opinion of an uneducated whore matters to me," Chuck callously replied. "You make trailer trash look high class, ya big slut."

"Hey!" Greg got in the bastard's face. "Mind your manners in front of the lady."

"Lady? Ha!" Chuck laughed, "She had sex with me for 500 bucks, so forgive me if I think whore is more accurate."

"Did everyone hear that confession?" Greg asked with a smirk. "Mr. Stokes just admitted to paying Miss Cooper $500 in exchange for sex. That's a misdemeanor, Officer. Book him!"

"Nice work, G!" Nick slapped his partner on the back. "You've obviously been payin' attention to me in the interrogation room."

Dave Sanders beamed with pride. "Way to go, Gregory."

"Shit! I can't believe you got me to say that!" Chuck shot daggers at his brother's lover. "You son of a bitch! You wouldn't say boo to me if I weren't in cuffs." He puffed out his chest. "Isn't that right, pretty boy? I can't believe my brother lets you give to him." He turned to the cops in the room. "You guys know that, right? Big tough Nick Stokes, your local hero who survived bein' buried alive, is bendin' over for pansy little Greggy here on a regular basis. Uh oh, I think I just outed the flaming fairies."

"Nah, you're about 12 hours too late, them being gay is old news already," Carlos, a devout family man, snapped, "and if you think for a minute that it's more embarrassing to be gay than to cheat on your pregnant wife, pay for sex, and batter a young woman because she wouldn't give you a free hummer, you couldn't be more wrong. Take him back to holding, Jonesy! I'm gettin' sick just lookin' at him."

"But, if he's in trouble for soliciting, that means I'm in trouble!" Tawny jumped in front of the officer. "I don't won't to go to jail!"

"At least you're not looking at an assault charge, you lyin' bitch!" Chuck yelled at the girl he wished he never met.

"Wait! It's up to me to press charges for the assault, right? Well, I have about $2400 in fines to pay plus the hotel wants to put me in jail if I can't pay the room damages. If the pig is willing to cover all of that, then I won't press assault charges…and if you can look the other way on the solicitation as a professional courtesy to CSI Stokes, then we're really save the taxpayers a lot of money, don't ya think? I promise I'll never do it again." She batted her eyes for effect.

"Deal!" Chuck declared. "Did you hear that? Uncuff me, she's not pressin' charges. Where do I write the check?"

"It's not your deal to make!" Carrie yelled from the bench where she was still woozy. "A crime was committed."

Carlos looked to Nick for an opinion.

"I personally want him to rot, but you know how cases like this work. His legal team will end up gettin' him out and Tawny will pay the price for it all, so if it's better for her…"

"It is!" the exotic dancer assured the group.

"No, it's not." Carrie shook her head. "You just put a price tag on knocking you around, Tawny. For $2400 you're saying it's okay he busted your face. That just propagates the myth that women are currency and it obliterates your self-worth. Don't you think your life is worth more than $2400?"

"My face will heal in less than a week, but if I don't pay those fines, I'll be in jail for months, and I'll probably get another busted face while I'm there, not to mention raped. I've already been raped twice, and I'm real confident the third time won't be a charm." Tawny nodded at the police officer. "No charges."

"So typical," Carrie sighed, "and so sad."

Chuck winked at his miffed little brother, "Money talks. How many times have I told you that, Nicky? But I know you don't mind makin' peanuts because you're all about playin' Jesus Christ and helpin' the disenfranchised. Isn't it a little hypocritical that you're blastin' me for sleepin' with a whore for hire when you did it yourself. Kristy was her name, right?"

In a pre-emptive strike, Dave grabbed his future son-in-law. "Don't bite."

Though he couldn't pounce, Nick barked, "Kristy was a friend. I never paid her a dime, and I didn't have a pregnant wife at home waitin' on me, so I could sleep wherever I wanted! You ever mention Kristy's name again and I'll…" Dave's hand covered his mouth before he could finish the sentence.

"Come on, he's tweaking you on purpose, Nicky," the father scolded, "use your head and let it go."

The Sergeant anxiously said, "With a member of the DA's office standing in front of me, I'm not comfortable with anything but protocol. The assault charge is up to Ms. Cooper, but I heard a confession of solicitation, and I have to follow through."

"I understand, Carlos." Nick nodded at his brother. "Good luck with that, Bro."

"Good luck?" Chuck couldn't believe he wasn't going to hear more. "That's it?"

"That's it." Nick walked over to Carrie. "Could I speak to you outside for a moment?" He extended his hand to help her to her feet.

"Sure."

"Thanks."

While Nick walked out of the room with Carrie, Greg and Dave exchanged puzzled glances.

---

"Do you see what I see?" Archie asked Grissom. Pointing to the enhancement of the photo Mrs. Vartann had used to confront her husband, he said, "That's an Adam's Apple."

"So Vartann wasn't cheating on his wife with a woman."

The AV Tech snickered, "That adds a layer of intrigue, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Grissom removed his glasses. "Especially if you're Connie Vartann. It's one thing finding out your husband is cheating, but quite another to hear it was with a man."

"No kidding, I thought that chick Chloe was going to kill Nick in the hallway when she found out she slept with a gay guy." Returning to work on the photo, Archie said, "I'm really starting to like my boring love life."

"To say it's boring implies that you have one," Hodges snarked from the doorway. "I think the term you were looking for is 'non-existent'. Or did you hook up with a Klingon Princess at the convention last weekend?"

Archie glanced up at the boss, "Why do you keep him around?"

"Because he figured out Nick's coffin was rigged before it killed me."

Hodges grinned with pride. "Saving the boss from disintegration is the ultimate 'get out of jail free' card."

---

"I don't want to see Tawny behind bars." Alone in a conference room with the ADA, Nick confided, "I know prostitution is illegal in Clark County, but..."

"A little time behind bars can be a wake up call for a young girl caught up in the sex trade."

"Yeah, and sometimes it makes them take a turn for the worse."

"If she keeps soliciting, she'll end up in jail or dead, either from a violent crime or a drug overdose." Carrie somberly said, "Pretty Woman was Hollywood fiction, prostitutes never get whisked away by nice guys to live happily ever after. No disrespect intended here, but you have to know I'm right. Death at the hands of a pimp was the tragic outcome for your friend, Kristy, if I overheard Tessa correctly."

Stuffing his arms across his chest, Nick huffed, "Exactly how many stories about me have you heard?"

"Maybe a dozen…or two." Smiling to cut the tension, Carrie explained, "We work long hours at the court house and some of my coworkers get gossipy when they're hyped up on vending machine chocolate at 2am going over briefs."

"Apparently so." It was hard to hear the painful truth.

"They weren't all bad," she confirmed, while compulsively tucking her wavy brunette hair behind her ears. "I was very impressed with your mental fortitude in the buried alive story, and the one about you and Cassie McBride really touched my heart. Honestly I was skeptical that a Broom Closet Casanova could be so compassionate, but now that we've spent a little time together, I realize I was wrong. Is it true that you also found a home for her, or is that where the story turns Urban Legend?"

"It's true," Nick proudly replied. "I approached Greg's parents about adopting her. That was actually Cassie's new Daddy out there in the lobby - my future father-in-law." He ruffled, "Unless you believe my asshole brother and think my union with Greg is all a big farce, then Dave Sanders is nothin' to me."

The lobbyist for gay marriage huffed, "My partner Jean and I consider ourselves very much married even though the state says we're nothing to one another. It's all about what's in your heart, not on a paper. Look at your brother's legal marriage, his commitment is quite obviously meaningless to him."

"You're right about that." His voice softened, "You were right about the circumstances of Kristy's demise too. I thought I was helping her make a fresh start, I really did." He flustered, "Not by sleepin' with her, that was…that was me needin' a little escape from reality myself. She had a history I could empathize with and it gave us an instant connection. I don't tell a lot of people this, but I was sexually abused as a little boy…by a female babysitter. Kristy was raped by a neighbor when she was fourteen. She got pregnant, her parents kicked her out of the house and even when she lost the baby, they wouldn't take her back because they thought she had an abortion. Tawny was a straight A student and teenage beauty queen, but then her father died and her life turned upside down. Her mother's boyfriend raped her and when she cried out, her mother accused her of coming onto the pig and kicked her out at 16."

"I have a lot of sympathy for sexual abuse victims, Nick," Carrie explained, "I narrowly escaped being one myself and my best friend wasn't so lucky. But I also know how empathy can cloud a kindhearted person's judgment. Enabling someone is abusive in itself. If Tawny flits out of here tonight, she's going to be back out there tomorrow looking for another guy to pay her bills and he may be a bigger jerk than your brother. He may even be a killer."

"I know. I know." He slid down the wall and sat on the floor to think. "A few days ago she told me that she applied to work at The Bunny Ranch, at least that would be legal and as safe as prostitution can be."

"Ugh, don't get me started on that vile place."

"Prostitution's been around forever, it's not goin' away."

"Not unless guys stop wanting to get laid 24/7, but fat chance of that happening."

"Watch it now…I spend a good portion of my 24 hours a day solvin' crimes, Missy, so when I go home I think I've earned the right to decompress with some outrageously passionate love makin'." He laughed at himself. "And sometimes, on really stressful days, I don't have time to make it home, so I make it in a Broom Closet."

"How can you even think about sex after working a sex crime or testifying at a rape trial?"

"I don't think about sex, that's the point." He smiled at the puzzled woman. "I'm a guy. When the sex starts, the thinking stops. That's what makes it the perfect activity after a really bad day. It's an hour of guaranteed time off from thinkin' about the horrific stuff I've had to deal with during my shift."

"An hour, huh?" She shyly returned his laughter.

"At home, yeah. My record in a Broom Closet is only 15 minutes though, because usually I had to hold the woman against the wall the whole time and my arms got tired."

"I figured you had good stamina, because I saw your medical records tacked to the wall in the PD breakroom earlier and you're in perfect health." Trying to keep a straight face, she said, "Besides you being HIV negative, I was particularly impressed with your cholesterol levels. High cholesterol runs in my family and I have to be really careful about what I eat, because I'm genetically cursed."

"Yeah, I'm real lucky, my family history doesn't have anything bad," he grinned, "except 'asshole-ism', my brother and father are terribly afflicted."

"Ha!" Carrie hopped up on the conference table as she continued to laugh. "I needed that laugh."

"You really did. I've seen springs less tightly wound than you, sweetheart."

"Maybe I should start having sex in the Broom Closet on court breaks." She sighed, "Of course my partner is a workaholic like me, so the odds of getting her to meet me for a nooner are slim to none."

"I'm sure Tawny would oblige you for 500 bucks…or less if her rent was due."

"That's not funny," the uber-feminist snapped.

"A guy doesn't survive bein' buried alive half a day with a loaded gun unless he has a pretty wicked sense of humor."

"What was the worst part of that ordeal?" Carrie asked with morbid curiosity. "The claustrophobia? The ants?"

"Neither." Shaking his head, Nick answered, "Thinkin' I was gonna die with so much left to do. I'm a family guy. I love kids, always wanted a bunch. The hardest part was realizin' that I would never get to fall in love and be happily married."

---

"I hate marriage," Sara confessed as she sat on the couch with her knees pulled into her chest. "I always knew I'd hate marriage and here I am…hating it. How can I love Gil, but hate being married to him?" She touched the bandage on her head. "Look what marriage does to a happy couple after a decade. Husbands start screwing around, wives go after mistresses with baseball bats." Her voice grew distant, "Then one day, when they reach the breaking point, the fed up wife picks up a butcher knife and puts an end to the misery once and for all."

Dr. Sylvia Myers, a 50 year old, well-respected Psychiatrist who had counseled Sara after a workplace incident two years earlier, said, "I'm glad you called and asked to come in. It's been too long. You were supposed to come visit me every three months, remember?"

"I thought I was fine."

"Life's stresses have a way of sneaking up on us."

"My mother said he had it coming," Sara robotically stated while fixing her eyes on a patch of carpet. "She said she was tired of him controlling her every move. She told the cops that she wanted her freedom and he wasn't willing to let her go. His exact words were 'Bitch, I'll kill you before I divorce you.' When I visited her in the mental hospital, she said she did it for me too…did it so I would have a chance at a normal life and a healthy relationship." Flicking tears from her cheeks, she said, "I think my mother was too late, because I've never felt normal, and I'm not capable of having a healthy relationship. All I think about when the going gets tough in my marriage is the cast off on the walls, my dead father's lifeless body on the floor, and my mother's smile as she stood over him clutching the bloody knife."

"That was a lot for a little girl to see," the doctor conceded, "but what you saw is in the past, it wasn't a vision of your future. Just because your mother and father's marriage failed in the most horrific of ways, doesn't mean yours is doomed. You need to leave the negativity in the past and look at your marriage as a new, independent endeavor, full of hope for happiness and longevity. Stop worrying about becoming your mother and being the kind of wife she was and ask yourself who you want to be and what you want out of your marriage."

"I don't want it to end with one or both of us in the morgue or in cuffs."

"What suddenly made you believe your marriage is on that path?" the doctor queried.

"So Gil and I wouldn't be breaking Department Policy, the Assistant Lab Director suggested I move to Day shift or my other option was that I start reporting to him. Gil chose for me without consulting me."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Powerless."

"And that scared you."

Sara nodded. "That and I found out he was lying to me."

"About what?"

"He told me he didn't want kids, but when I was in the ER there was a mix up, and he was mistakenly told I was pregnant. When the doctor clarified that I really wasn't, Gil admitted he was disappointed. I should have figured it out, because he balked at getting a vasectomy when he was about to get snipped. He rescheduled the appointment for June 17th, but since he was lying…"

"Was he lying?" Dr. Myers quietly asked, "Is there a chance that he really didn't know how he felt until that defining moment?"

"I think maybe he had convinced himself he didn't want kids because he thought I didn't want any."

The doctor cocked her head. "Do you want a child, Sara?"

Drilling a hole into the carpet with her intense stare, Sara replied, "I never imagined wanting to be a mother, but in the last year I've had these moments and done some odd things."

"Would you give me an example?"

"Uh…okay, well, I signed up for this Big Sister mentoring program."

"What was Gil's reaction to you volunteering to be a Big Sister?"

Sara glanced up. "I haven't told him yet."

"Why not?"

"I was afraid he'd think I did it because I wanted a child when we agreed that we didn't want kids."

"But now you know he wants a child." The doctor smiled, "Maybe the only problem in your marriage right now is that you're each doing things based on what he or she believes the other wants and you're not being honest about your desires. Making decisions that you truly believe will make your spouse happier isn't controlling behavior, Sara, it's ineffective communication and good intentions gone wrong."

"Ineffective communication and good intentions gone wrong are two things Gil and I have always done well. They're part of our comfort zone."

Dr. Myers presented her famous candy dish full of tasty choices and gregariously shared a personal story, "A long time ago, I had this t-shirt from Acapulco. I loved the shirt to pieces, literally. One day my husband plucked it from the laundry basket and tossed it in the trash saying, "It's an insult to keep that schmata in the same closet with your Channel suits. You won't need it anymore.' Then he excitedly announced, 'Because I'm taking you to Acapulco over the holidays and I'm going to buy you a new souvenir t-shirt!' By the way, schmata is Yiddish for a hideous piece of clothing."

"Ah."

"What he didn't know was that t-shirt was from the first trip I paid for with my own money after college. You see I grew up with nothing and endured years of listening to kids return to school with exotic tales of expensive vacations, so a fancy resort stay was the first thing I wanted to treat myself to when I had the cash. That shirt represented my independence, financial and otherwise. My husband thought I was insane when I flew into a rage over an old faded t-shirt, and an ungrateful bitch for not being excited over his vacation announcement." Thinking of the memory, she sighed, "In my mind, he had just thrown away my self-worth and freedom to choose."

"Exactly," Sara nodded, "it was infuriating."

"The moral of the story is…marriage is a minefield and even the most loving of spouses triggers an unexpected explosion now and then. Try to stop your damaged psyche from making assumptions and jumping to the worst conclusions."

"We haven't taken a honeymoon." The sparkle returning to Sara's eyes she said, "Maybe I should surprise him with two plane tickets to Acapulco and an apology."

---

"I'm not sorry that my brother's in deep shit." Climbing into bed, Nick cheerily said, "Even though I know it's wrong to be happy about it, I can't help it, I'm lovin' every second of it!"

"Me too!" Greg gleefully replied while kicking off his Sketchers and plopping onto the comforter. "I don't know about you, but I'm totally wired from the day's drama." He couldn't imagine sleeping even though they needed to get some rest. "Vigorous sex might mellow us out."

"Great horny minds think alike." His shirt flying through the air, Nick said, "It'll help with my tension too. I was disappointed that Chuck didn't get charged with felony assault, because it would have made up for him getting away with beatin' up that kid in high school. Poetic justice, y'know?"

"Yeah, but look at the bright side, a misdemeanor for solicitation will at least keep him out of office for good."

"Yeah."

"One less Neo-Con Republican in office is always a good thing." Greg rubbed his palms together. "Maybe we should crack open some bubbly to celebrate."

"We still have a bottle or two left over from your birthday party." Nick considered leaving the bed to fetch the champagne, but decided he was too comfortable to move. "Now that I think about it, it seems a little wrong to celebrate when my sister-in-law's life is in shambles. When I was on the phone with Melanie, she was tryin' to be tough, but I could tell she was gonna fall apart as soon as we hung up. Hearin' the painful truth from me now is better than bein' lied to and cheated on for years to come though."

"Totally. And your mom was going over there to be with her, right?"

"Yeah, my mom's been like a mother to her since they met. Melanie's parents both died a few years back and she's an only child. That's what she loved about marryin' into the Stokes clan…she got an instant family. My parents are so ticked at Chuck, they'll make sure Melanie's okay financially and that she has a good lawyer if she wants to divorce instead of givin' my lyin' sack of shit brother a second chance like she said she might for the sake of the kids."

"I'm pretty sure I'd want a divorce if my husband cheated on me while I was pregnant."

"Thankfully you'll never get a chance to find out, 'cause you can't get knocked up and I'll never be unfaithful." Resting his hand on Greg's hip, Nick slid closer until their grins met for a tender kiss. "Mmm."

Greg wondered why the kiss tasted like Cuervo, but decided to mention it.

Caressing his partner's cheek afterwards, Nick softly said, "This whole nasty incident has me feelin' stupid all over again about gettin' angry with you last night. If the worst thing you ever do to betray me is overshare details of our love life because you're excited about our relationship, then I'll consider myself a real lucky guy."

"Hey, I feel lucky too. Dealing with Tawny made me grateful I'm in a happy, monogamous relationship with a guy I can trust. That babe was totally playing me and the old, desperate Greggy would have absolutely fallen head over heels for her Double D charms."

"Yep, then a few weeks after sleepin' with her, she'd call and tell ya that you're gonna be a daddy for the low, low price of two-grand a month in child support."

"I'm really glad I dodged that bullet."

"Are you wafflin' again on bein' a daddy?" Nick remarked with more disappointment than intended. "Sorry, I don't want to pressure..."

"No, no, what I meant was I want to have a baby with you, not some gold digger who doesn't love me." Greg's sweetest laughter filled the room. "I realize my lack of a uterus complicates matters, but I want to go on record saying, that if I had the right equipment for the job, I'd totally have your baby, Cletus." Gazing into his eyes, he chuckled, "I'm so insanely in love with you right now, if you asked, I'd absolutely spread 'em and let you knock me up."

It was a classic freaky Greg moment and Nick couldn't suppress his laughter. "Wow….that's a really sweet and extremely odd thing to hear, G. Thanks."

"You're welcome." The suddenly amorous partner snickered, "Are you up for a romp? Because oddly enough, all this baby-making talk has ironically put me in the mood for some really intense non-reproductive sex."

Nick replied by grazing his crotch over his lover's thigh and working open Greg's jeans. "What the…did you really go to the station without underwear on?"

"I was preoccupied and in a rush! Thankfully it's not a crime to walk into the police station without drawers."

"Yeah, because Cath would be under arrest every night."

"There's a visual I didn't need."

"Here, let me replace it with another one." Nick tossed his clothes and posed. "How's this workin' for ya, Baby?"

Upon seeing his mate ridiculously trying to pose like a porn star, Greg burst into laughter. "I think you're still a little drunk, Cletus."

"While you were busy takin' a dump, I was in the kitchen knockin' back shots to celebrate my brother's downfall."

"Thankfully the booze hasn't reached your extremities yet." When his body was blanketed by his eager lover's and his tongue captured in an aggressive kiss, Greg knew he wouldn't be in lead today. "Someone's gone from incapacitated to in charge."

"Sorry, G, do you want to…"

"Nope." Gripping Nick's bare shoulders, he beamed in anticipation. "You're exactly where I want you, Romeo." Running his hands over the muscles flexing before him, he purred. "I think there's a bottle still under my pillow." The lunge for lube allowed him to peruse another side of the perfect body. "Were you working in the yard without a shirt on? You're three shades lighter below the belt."

"Maybe I should start doin' yardwork naked."

"No, you might weed whack your wiener off."

"As opposed to you in college…whacking off your wiener while smokin' weed."

"Yep, then I'd roll over and order a pizza to satisfy my pot and post-masturbation munchies." Greg reached to caress his favorite toy. "Life wouldn't be the same without Nick Junior." Making it bob up and down, he joked, "See, he's nodding in agreement."

"No's he's sayin' stop talkin' and use your mouth for a higher purpose."

Greg jumped at the chance.

"You don't have to…" Nick pawed at his partner's tousled hair. "I totally don't deserve this after treatin' you like shit at the lab." Watching and loving every move, he pleaded, "But don't stop." Thirty seconds later, he screeched, "Stop!"

"Problem?"

"Yeah, it felt too damn good." Nick planted his lips above Greg's belly button and slowly made his way north, alternating kisses with swirls of his tongue.

"That's nice." Greg chomped on his bottom lip as shivers of delight came in waves. "I know we haven't gone a day without some sort of sexual activity, but it feels like it's been a long time since we've taken our time."

"I was just thinkin' the same thing."

The feel of Nick blowing on his wet nipple drove Greg wild.

Instead of keeping his observations to himself, Nick spoke with tequila honesty, "You're such a girl when it comes to your little titties, G."

"What?" Greg covered his flushing face with his hands.

"You know it's true, baby."

"How long have you known?"

"Hell, since you held that sparkly shirt over your chest in the lab."

"You mean the time you copped a sneaky feel?"

"Maybe subconsciously. Anyway, my suspicions about you were confirmed the first time we made love." Nick teased, "Be honest, have ever dreamed of gettin' a sex change, so you could have real ones."

"No way, I'm very happy with my A minus chest, because I love my penis too much and it would suck to pee sitting down." Greg tapped his left side. "Could you…"

"Don't worry, if there's one thing I've learned it's that both sides need equal time."

"Are you sure you love me?" Greg sweetly asked as he watched his dream man trace circles with his tongue. "Because I really am a freak in about 50 different ways."

"I'm sure." Nick winked and caressed both sides of his quirky boyfriend's chest. "I love you and the girls." He let his right hand wander south. "And the boys, who I think are feelin' pretty neglected, so if you'll excuse me."

"I was just about to suggest we discuss the Kramer case over coffee, but if you'd rather blow me," Greg shrugged, "I guess I can roll with that."

"See, that's why I love you." Nick stole a kiss before returning to his downward course. "You can make me laugh on the shittiest of days and let me get my rocks off. Life doesn't get sweeter than that."

"Don't forget, I cook too."

"Yeah, but that's a wash, because it's what makes me overlook your constant talking." After a teasing lick, the cowboy winked, "I'll hope you'll forgive me for cuttin' our chat short."

Greg gasped upon being wholly consumed. "Forgiven."

---

"I'm sorry," Sara told her husband's voicemail as she strolled through Walgreens. "I just left Dr. Myers and I have a whole new perspective on things. I'll be home waiting for you…in bed," she added before smiling. "Love you."

After returning her phone to its clip, she reached out and plucked an ovulation predictor kit from the shelf. We're Lab Rats, going scientific is what comes natural to us. The plan was to put the kit in a gift bag and surprise Gil with it before they made love. I can't wait to see the look on his face. He's going to be so happy.

---

This should make Sara happy, Gil thought as he parked in front of his Urologist's office. A vasectomy will take away any doubts and fears that I'm going to leave her for a woman who wants a child.

Checking his watch, he hurried into the building, certain he was finally doing something right.

---

"Nothing's wrong," Greg panted. With his fingers entwined in his partner's hair, he gently tugged. "I don't want to finish before…"

"Before what?" Bumping parts, Nick teased, "What makes you think I want to do something else?"

"The swordfight was my first clue."

Glancing down in unison, they enjoyed watching each bump of their eager anatomy.

"Sorry," Greg laughed, "I lost my train of thought. What were we talking about?"

"Who cares?" Nick ravaged his partner's eager mouth with a fiery kiss, and kicked off a steamy grind.

Greg mindlessly kneaded his lover's muscles in between gulps of oxygen, "Wanna finish like this?"

"No." Nick caught the bottle tossed his way. "I can take a hint."

"Cold!" The temperature of the liquid startling him, Greg said, "I swear you keep that stuff on an ice just to make me jump."

An explanation for the chill came in between heated kisses, "Roy turned down the air conditioning real low…I'm gonna tell him not to touch it...I don't want our electric bill to skyrocket."

"Speaking of temperature…mine's on the rise."

Bringing their grins together, Nick teased his bisexual mate, "Do you think bodacious Tawny could rock your world like I do?"

"Like I'd let those talons she calls fingernails anywhere near my prostate."

"Ha!" Having a great time in bed with his jokester lover, Nick snatched a kiss.

The pleasure building, Greg closed his eyes and moaned, "That feels so good." It was the perfect start to what he knew would be outrageously passionate love-making. "Mmmm."

"Yeah, no one knows your body as well as I do, baby." Too excited and enticed to wait any longer, Nick opted to hastily prep his body and moved on.

"Hey!" Greg's eyes flew open. "Slow down, cowboy!" He placed his palms on his impatient lover's chest to keep him at bay. "Almost ripping me in two kinda ruins that 'no one knows your body as well as I do' vibe, y'know?"

"Sorry, G." With puppy dog eyes, Nick confessed, "I had a feeling I was rushin' things." He used kisses and caresses to make up for his faux pas. "You're just so irresistible."

Greg laughed, "Did that bullshit line work with the ladies after you cheated them out of some foreplay?"

"Almost every time."

"As you were, Casanova."

"You sure?" Nick asked in a sexy rasp, but didn't wait for an answer.

"Yes, by the way."

"I figured it was rhetorical."

"And here I…"

"Are we gonna keep talking?" Nick asked, desperate to lose himself in the loving. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so…"

"It's okay." Grinning wide, Greg watched his lover's stress melt away a little more with every thrust.

"Hey, G..." Adjusting their bodies, Nick winked, "Positive reinforcement is still welcome." Slipping his hand around the back of his partner's neck, he pulled him close for a kiss. "Wait…why does it seem easier to kiss you in this position than it was the last time?"

"While you're in the gym pumping iron, I've been in my office doing yoga and Pilates." In between throbs of pleasure, Greg proudly declared, "I think I've almost doubled my flexibility."

"I think my love of you just doubled." Nick whispered before closing his eyes and retreating into the safety of physical ecstasy. "Love you, G." The day's stress faded with each stroke and soon he was lost in the intensifying passion. "You feel so good."

Bodies and eyes locked, the two men only exchanged sounds and looks of approval as they moved and rolled from position to position. In the end they were sitting in the middle of the bed, facing each other and moving in perfect harmony. The symbolism wasn't lost on Greg. They had started the relationship uneven and over time, the balance had shifted. Their life together was now like their love making…unpredictable, but no matter what, they knew they'd ride things out until their last breath and be extremely satisfied with what they had in the end.

"Yes!" Greg exclaimed, answering his own thoughts as much as Nick's question. "I'm…" As usual, he didn't finish the statement.

"Aww, G," Nick breathlessly scolded as he teetered on the edge, "you were supposed to wait for me."

"Honeymoon," the sated lover panted, "I thought it could be the new thing we try. Our first mutual…"

"OH!"

"…during sex."

---

"Try not to focus on reproduction during sex," Sara read out loud from the Ovulation Kit's instruction manual. "Keep it fun and romantic, don't make it seem like work."

---

"I can't believe you called me down to your workplace for sex!" Jean giggled like a naughty school girl as Carrie searched for her shoes in the courthouse broom closet. "Where did this idea come from?" She fixed her pixie cut red hair and tucked in her blouse while waiting for an answer.

"The future father of our child," Carrie laughed, feeling unstressed for the first time in months.

"Excuse me?" The stunned partner couldn't believe her insanely picky mate had finally found the right donor after almost a year of nonstop searching.

"He's perfect!" Slipping into her pumps, Carrie enthused, "He's heroic and compassionate, incredibly handsome, a hard worker, and he loves children, but most importantly, he has outrageously low cholesterol levels! I saw his medical records, he's totally healthy."

"Wow." Jean hadn't seen her lover this animated in a long time. "You're not going to leave him for me, are you?"

"He's gay."

"Ooh! That's the best kind of donor." Her enthusiasm mounting, Jean asked, "I want to meet him before I use his swimmers to impregnate you. And we'll have to draw up paperwork. Wait…you didn't do all that without me, did you?"

"No, of course not!" Carrie straightened her lover's collar smiling, "I haven't even asked him yet."

"What's his name?"

---

"Stokes!" Greg yelled from the kitchen where he was searching the fridge in his birthday suit. "We need eggs!"

"So much for me makin' you my post booty call omelet." Circling his arms around his partner, he peered into the fridge. "I could make ya Grilled Cheese."

"Carbs after sex will make me good and sleepy."

"My thoughts exactly." After a lingering kiss, Nick whispered, "You get the low fat cheese and fake butter, and I'll get the whole grain bread."

"When you say it like that it sounds totally healthy and completely unappetizing."

"Wanna go out instead?"

Greg shook his head. "A big part of the appeal was eating naked in bed together."

Like two stoned buddies they yelled, "Pizza delivery!"

---

"I'm home with food, Sara!" Gil announced as he tossed his briefcase and carried the brown shopping bag to the kitchen.

"Bedroom!"

Hoping his wife wasn't busy packing to leave him, Gil somberly strolled into the master suite. "I've got something for you, honey," he began, holding out a small paisley gift bag.

"I have something for you too," Sara pointed to the silver foil gift bag on the bed.

Seeing his wife in La Perla lingerie for the first time commanded the 50 year old's full attention and he missed the gift bag entirely. "I love it!"

"The gift isn't me in lingerie," she grabbed the bag and handed it to him. "It's in here."

"Oh." Gil couldn't imagine what could be better than his sexy wife in naughty lingerie, but being a curious scientist, he opened the bag.

"What did you get me?" Sara queried while lunging for the little bag in her husband's hand.

Staring at the ovulation predictor kit as his wife read his Urology appointment card for a vasectomy next week, Gil deadpanned, "Typical."

"For us to be out of sync?"

"Yeah."

Grinning, Sara ripped the appointment card in half. "Better?"

***

Chapter 26: Real Men - Part 1

"Hey! Did I just hear you say Stokes is a fag?" Officer Jack Markson couldn't believe his ears as he sat drinking coffee on the patio of Kelly's Café, a popular breakfast spot for Clark County's finest. "You better watch your mouth, Diaz," the 37 year old fitness-obsessed cop warned the rookie who was sitting at the next table, "Stokes is a good friend of mine. We've worked out at the same gym for years, and since I've seen him with his tongue down a woman's throat in the parking lot of Fitness World, I can assure you he's not a fag." He shook his head at his co-workers, Carl and Phil, sitting across from him. "Can you believe that idiot?"

"Yeah, actually, I can." Tearing open a packet of sugar, Carl Watson filled in his buddy who had just returned from vacation, "Stokes went public two nights ago. And not only is he queer, he's shacking up with that geek CSI…"

"That narrows it down to 20 guys," Phil Holloway snarked.

"Greg Sanders," Rookie Eddie Diaz announced from the next table. "I told you I wasn't lying, Markson." He laughed, "And yeah, I've seen you and Stokes together at Fitness World. Was him spotting you his idea or yours? Wait…was it spotting or cuddling?"

"Fuck off, Diaz."

Content with one good jab, the young cop grabbed his coffee and left while he was ahead.

"I can't believe this." But Jack knew his best friends wouldn't lie to him. "I showered and changed my clothes in front of Stokes for years. How god damn sick is that?"

"You think he was checking out your ass while you were lifting?" Phil sniggered into his coffee mug. "He was probably scoping out your junk in the shower too. Did he ever drop the soap?"

"Shut up."

"Wow." Carl glanced over at his fitness-crazed friend with pity in his eyes. "If it's true and he was checking you out all this time, it's kind of insulting that he picked Sanders over your muscle-bound body, doncha think?"

"You're a sick pup, Watson. I'm a married churchgoing man!" Jack found no humor in the situation. "Stokes hasn't been around the gym for the last few months, but before that, we worked out together all the time. What are the guys at the gym gonna say when they hear about this, huh?"

Leaning in, Phil whispered, "You don't have anything to worry about unless Diaz was right. Did Stokes really volunteer to stand behind you and spot you a lot?"

Carl added, "Yeah, did he ever bump his junk against your ass and pretend it was an accident or not acknowledge it?"

"Son of a bitch! He was totally coming onto me and I was clueless. " Jack pushed away his full breakfast platter. "Jesus Christ, I feel nauseous. I can't eat."

---

"What are you doin', G?" Nick had followed the heavenly smell of chicken fajita burritos to the kitchen. "I was comin' down here to cook for you." He adjusted the grey pullover he had just thrown on. "It's my turn, remember?"

"Yeah, but that wake up call you gave me put me in the mood to spoil you." Greg produced a bottle of Cholula from behind his back, "I even have your favorite condiment." Grinning, he said, "If someone had asked me a year ago if I ever thought I'd be waking up to Nick Stokes throwing himself at me all prepped and ready to go, I would have laughed loud enough to wake every corpse in the morgue."

"Honestly, I still can't believe I did that…at least not sober."

"Where did you get the idea? And how did you…no, actually, I don't want to know the answer to the second question, it'll ruin the mystique."

"To answer your first question, when you were workin' on your book yesterday, I was watchin' some of your porn on my lap top to learn new moves."

"The guy who used to mock my porn is stealing it?"

"It's not like I can ask my big brother for advice like I did when I started sleepin' with girls. Anyway, maybe mocking your porn was a cover," Nick playfully confessed, "maybe I was secretly longing for it, like I was secretly longing for you." He breathed deeply through his nose, "And your burritos." Licking his lips, he reached for a plate. "I can already tell this is gonna be a great night." He joked, "Except for walkin' funny."

"Sorry, Cletus, but you know dominating you goes to both of my heads." Greg grabbed his abandoned mug of java. "Now stop talking and eat that burrito, because I slaved over a hot stove to make it and I don't want it to get cold."

"Whatever you say, Master."

"Ha!" Handing over the hot sauce, Greg said, "Since I'm such a natural Dom, maybe I should get a part-time gig at Lady Heather's, that way when I max out on OT, I can still make extra cash for our honeymoon. Ooh! Speaking of sex slaves, my mom called and said Tawny declined the job at The Bunny Ranch and agreed to move into my parents' new home today. She totally bought it when I said she needed to be a pure vessel if she's going to gestate our spawn. My mom also used her PFLAG connections to get Tawny a better job at The Cheesecake Factory."

"That's great," Nick replied with a mouth full of burrito. "I had a feeling she'd take the offer." It had been Greg's suggestion that Tawny be told she could only be a surrogate mother if she agreed to live under his parents' roof and follow a strict health, fitness, academic, and sexless lifestyle for six months to clean up her act. The hope was that after six months of normal living, the lost girl wouldn't want to return to the sex industry and would stay a clean course, choosing to live a better life for herself. "Tawny was scared shitless about goin' to jail and when Carrie found a way out for her, that Tough Love speech she gave her had that girl shakin' like a leaf in a tornado."

"Do leaves really shake during a tornado? Aren't they just stripped off when the tree is ripped from the ground and sucked into the vortex of doom?"

"It's just a saying, Mr. Wizard." After another bite of burrito, Nick asked, "Jan's cool with the possibility that Tawny might decline bein' a surrogate at the end of the six months, right? We agreed we're not forcin' her to do anything. I hope your mom made it clear that the offer was charity, not bribery."

"Jan wants to be a grandma, but she also gets a rush from helping lost girls, so she'll be cool with saving another wounded soul and set off to find us another uterus for hire."

"'Uterus for hire' sounds really weird."

"No stranger than 'lesbians shopping for spunk'." While Nick choked on burrito, Greg took a seat at the counter to eat his breakfast. "Speaking of lesbians, we got a message from that Carrie chick inviting us to her house for dinner with her partner on Sunday. ADA Blake said she's dying to pick our CSI brains and discuss casefiles."

"I don't know. Remember the last double date we went on with women?"

"No," Greg shivered at the memory of their night with Dumb and Dumber. "I blocked everything about those bimbos, but I vividly remember you being totally in love with me when you were helping me hurl in the bathroom."

"Totally in denial is more like it." Thinking back to that night, Nick exploded into a smile. "I left two naked women in bed to rush home and see you, that was a huge clue right there. I told myself I was doin' it because I was a good friend. I can't believe I believed my own bullshit. It was all about wantin' to be with you. I remember desperately thinking of ways not to say good night and then frantically justifyin' that it was just me being concerned about you."

"That explains why you were begging me to go to IHOP with you when I was still green from puking."

"You musta thought I was nuts."

"I'll tell you exactly what I was thinking." Getting nostalgic, Greg placed both hands on Nick's thighs and leaned close. "After fantasizing about you forever, it felt insane to have your hands dipping under my shirt and sliding over my skin. Every touch had me reeling." He brushed kisses over his lover's lips as he spoke, "When you popped open my jeans to get me undressed for a shower, my heart skipped three beats, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to kiss you…just…like…this." When their lips parted, he chuckled, "Knowing I had vomit breath factored heavily into my decision, well that and the fear of you being straight and kicking my ass for coming on to you."

"Maybe I wouldn't have kicked your ass." Nick slid his hands around his partner's waist. "Sometimes I think if maybe you had pushed the issue one of those times when we were on the couch two inches away from each other, I would have been overwhelmed and gone with the flow."

"I really doubt that."

"It's water under the bridge anyway. We're front page news." Their foreheads pressed together, Nick whispered, "It's been brutal these last two days since goin' public…the pissed off women, the stupid jokes, the disgusted looks, the homophobic guys talkin' behind my back. It sucks. I hate it as much as I thought I would. On top of that, two of my sisters are denyin' my existence, another one is talkin' to me but totally freaked, and my dad's only bein' nice to me so my mother won't leave him. I hate that too, and I dread the drama at my parents' anniversary party this summer. For us to have a baby in the future, we're talkin' about buyin' an egg and leasin' a uterus, and even if all that works out, we'll be gettin' some funky looks at the school PTO meetings when our kid has two daddies on Back to School night. Marryin' you is gonna be hard, G, much harder than if I was marryin' a woman."

"Uh…are you trying to depress me or break up with me, Cletus?" His partner's odd behavior was starting to worry him. "That wasn't goodbye love we just made, was it?"

"What? No." Nick snatched a kiss and smiled, "I was gonna say that life with you is worth all that bullshit."

Greg resumed breathing. "I would have figured that out if I had that second cup of coffee in me."

"MmmHmm." Nick handed over his partner's coffee mug laughing, "Bottoms up, baby."

"Literally?" Greg snickered, "Because I kind of need my coffee before that too."

"Figuratively, Romeo."

Gazing into his partner's emotional eyes, Greg quietly asked, "What's going on, Cletus? What was that wake up call and the post-coital cuddling about? I know I'm not that good in the sack."

"Stop sellin' yourself short." Taking his partner's hand, Nick said, "Even though I've had the bottom spot a few times now, mentally I've never been able to let go and not be in charge."

"Trust me, I've noticed." Greg sweetly chuckled.

"It's weird, but I've never believed mental submission could be a good thing. When we were workin' a case at Lady Heather's once, Catherine told me she was into some of that stuff, not the crazy shit, but she said she loved bein' tied up and blindfolded while her lover ordered her around. She said it was relaxing not to be in charge for a while. I thought she was nuts, because bein' tied up and out of control would make me feel nothin' but tense. And this was before I was' kidnapped and bound." Giving Greg's hand a squeeze, he shook his head, "But now I totally understand where Cath was comin' from and..."

"You want me to tie you up and blindfold you? Cool! I'll stop at Erotica Boutique for supplies on the way home."

"No, really, that's okay," Nick laughed at the idea. "What I'm sayin' is, it's exhausting being a tough guy at work all night, and now I have the added pressure of tryin' to prove to half the police force that I'm not some big wimpy queer. So, when I woke up I thought it might be relaxin' to radiate a little feminine energy and just be your girl…with a penis."

"Uh oh, you're starting to sound as crazy as me."

"Well, they say livin' together makes people alike." Nick burst into a smile. "God help me."

"You think you're screwed? I'm cohabitating with a country music fan!" Greg confessed, "I caught myself humming along with Rascal Flatts last night. I'm doomed. I'm not even gonna fight it anymore."

"I'll get you a Stetson for Christmas, Slim."

"Black or white?"

"Black of course. How else will you play bad boy to my purty little lady with a penis?"

"Black it is." Greg blurted, "I love you, Cletus. Whatever it was, whatever your motivation, I loved what we shared earlier."

"Me too, that's why I didn't want it to end, why I asked you to spoon me. It felt nice to be protected and off guard for a change."

The statement was shocking. "You felt safe in the arms of a guy who got his ass kicked while sitting in a two ton truck?"

"Yeah." Nick brushed his thumb across his lover's cheek. "I really did."

Feeling overwhelmed by the quiet moment, Greg whispered, "Wanna call in sick and spend the whole night in each other's arms?"

"I've never played hooky in my life."

"I'm not the least bit surprised, Mr. Responsibility."

"Look on the bright side," Nick picked up his burrito, "if you don't go to work, how will you stop at Erotica Boutique on the way home from work?" He took a bite, grinning.

"Seriously?"

"No freaky shit," the hungry lover answered after swallowing, "and no blindfold. Just the scarves. And another jar of that honey dust, I love that stuff."

"You got it." After a kiss, Greg grabbed the morning paper from the counter and stood. "Java's kicking in." On his way to the bathroom, he pointed to the fridge. "Hey, Carrie's number is right here under this Catalina Island magnet. I'm okay double dating with the lezzies if you are, because they're brainiacs, not bimbos."

"Carrie reminds me of a little terrier dog - barky and sassy, but sweet and fun to be around, so yeah, I'll call and say we'll be there." Sprinkling another dose of Cholula, Nick said, "And we can always use another friend in the DA's office."

"Cool."

---

"You're hot," Sara showed her husband the thermometer as they stood in their bathroom getting ready for their shift. "102.5. No field work for you tonight."

"All that reproductive sex must have worn me down."

"The hazards of loving an old man," Sara sighed. "You probably caught something when you were processing that playground. Those places are hot beds for germs."

"I guess our child has no chance of playing on the monkey bars."

"With the geek genes our kid will inherit, he or she won't be coordinated enough anyway." Sara grabbed her ID badge and clipped it on. "I'm looking forward to show and tell though. I want to see the girly girls freak out when our kid brings in his prize-winning Madagascar Hissing Cockroach."

"We can always put the roach on a gilded leash to impress the girly girls."

"They really sell those?"

"There's a booth of them at every Entomology conference."

She coughed 'freak' into her fist.

"They sell rhinestone ones too."

"Okay, Bug Man, stop talking before I regret my decision to create a life with you."

"Can you check my throat?" Gil handed his wife a flashlight. "It hurts to swallow."

Peering into her husband's mouth Sara nodded, "Mmm, pus, I'm glad I didn't kiss you upon waking. I bet it's Strep. It couldn't be from the playground - it's not a long enough incubation period."

"I bet someone at the Lab has it and is infecting the place."

"It's not Nick," Sara joked, "I saw his medical records tacked on the Break Room wall and he's in great health."

The boss rolled his eyes. "I still can't believe he did that. I made him take it down."

"He hung a copy up at PD too." Sara continued getting dressed for work. "I think it was a good Time Management move. It would have taken days to verbally convince every past lover he was clean."

"A picture is worth a million words, but printed HIV test results are priceless."

"The cops at the scene last night were making Nick's life miserable. Not to his face, but it was obvious they were snickering and cracking gay jokes behind his back. I was ticked off and wanted to say something, but he said his therapist told him not to be confrontational. If someone cracks a joke in front of him, he can return the favor and try to maintain his position as one of the guys or give a reply that shows he's not ruffled. If someone slams Greg, he's supposed to answer back with a wife or girlfriend joke just like the other guys would if their loved one was a target."

"That won't get him punched in the face?"

"According to his gay therapist, it works more often than not, but yeah, it could." Tossing her hair brush on the counter, Sara said, "All that jock cop BS drives me crazy. I've learned to block it over the years, but sometimes they trigger my inner mean girl, like when they were mocking the obese women waiting in the interrogation room, I wanted to kick every one of them in the nuts. Greg and Nick are like my brothers, so when I hear cops picking on them, it triggers my inner mean girl big sister."

"Maybe pregnancy will mellow you out," Gil optimistically replied.

"Really?" She smirked, "I've been worried that pregnancy hormones will bring out my inner bitch. Kind of like when I pull a double with Catherine."

---

"Willows!" Detective Cavaliere shouted from the crime tape. "What the hell took so long to get a CSI out here?"

"Check your watch!" Catherine yelled before shutting the passenger door on the Denali, "You called it in 30 minutes before shift change, no one from Swing was gonna touch it." She walked around the truck to meet Nick and grab her kit. "I love how these guys think we're all sitting by a Bat Phone waiting to leap into action."

"I was hopin' for Jim or Vega."

"Is Chris giving you a hard time?"

"When doesn't he?" Nick grabbed his kit. "Now he just has a new reason to hate me. He was already callin' me a bleedin' heart pansy before, I can only imagine what he's sayin' now that I'm out."

"Your buddy Officer Markson is working the tape at least."

They started walking toward the house.

"One friendly face at least." Nick could feel the tension in his body rising with each step. "I haven't been workin' out at the gym with Jack since I hooked up with Greg."

"Why?"

"I felt weird about goin' there pretendin' to be straight. I was worried what the guys would think if word got out I wasn't."

"Is that why you put that tricked-out home gym in the new house?"

"Yeah." Nick readied for confrontation. "Guys don't mind bein' naked together in the locker room until they know there's a queer in the group."

"Everyone will get used to it and calm down." Securing her camera on her shoulder, Catherine said, "You're still the same great guy and anyone who thinks differently isn't worth your time or energy."

"Hey, Jack," Nick greeted his friend. "How was Disneyland? Did the kids love it?"

Scowling at his ex-workout buddy, Officer Markson snipped, "It was great. You should go. I saw an advertisement for Disneyland Gay Day, it's in October. You can take your little boyfriend there to flit around with Tinkerbell."

Catherine felt a chill even though the air temperature was 84 degrees.

Pretending not to notice the agitation in his friend's eyes and voice, Nick replied through a smile, "Thanks for the heads up, but we already have a little Disney trip planned in a few weeks actually. We're takin' Greg's little sisters there now that school's out. Jenni, the girl from the bus crash you worked, Greg's folks adopted her, and they just adopted Cassie, the little girl I found out at the lake; you remember that case, right? Yeah, they've both never been to Disneyland, so it should be a lot of fun."

Nick's normal, unemotional response to the personal slam threw Jack off balance and he didn't know how to respond.

"DB's not getting any fresher!" Cavaliere yelled from the doorway. "Let's go, ladies!"

"Good seein ya, Jack. Tell your wife I said hi." The anxious CSI turned for the door and huffed out some tension.

"Nice job, Nicky." Catherine knew she would have reacted differently. "I would have told him to go to hell, but that's me. You've always been better at diplomacy."

Cavaliere ignored Stokes and spoke directly to Catherine, "The vic is Debbie Lester, age 27. She's only lived here a few months. The neighbor said she had a little boy, but he was sent to live with his grandmother in LA."

Glancing up at the suburban home, Nick said, "Nice house."

"It's a little messy inside the master bedroom." Cavaliere waved the CSIs to follow. "There wasn't a man in the picture. Ms. Lester told the neighbor that her husband died shortly after she gave birth, and she's been moving around trying to find a place to heal and start a new life that wasn't filled with memories of her husband."

Removing her sunglasses, Catherine sighed, "Sounds like a typical bullshit story told to pacify a nosy neighbor. Considering how the story ended for her, I'd guess she was running from a live husband, not a ghost."

"People lie about their personal lives all the time," Cavaliere glanced over at Nick, "isn't that right, Stokes?"

"Like when you say you're goin' home to your wife, but really drivin' to Pahrump to work out a little tension at The Chicken Ranch?" Since it was the truth, Nick didn't expect the detective to protest. "I'll call the lab and have someone research, maybe find the kid's birth certificate. Maybe she listed a daddy."

---

"Of course I want the baby to have my last name," Henry informed his girlfriend as he stood in the breakroom holding an empty coffee mug. "Either alone or hyphenated with yours. Baby Andrews or Baby Webster-Andrews."

"Why not Baby Andrews-Webster?" the Fingerprint Tech asked while twisting open a bottle of juice.

"Because it doesn't flow as well."

"I think it flows better actually." Seeing the Breakroom Informational Wall, Mandy got an idea. "We'll poll our coworkers." She grabbed a black marker and a blank sheet of paper from the supply table." I'll write it up and hang it in the empty spot where Nick's medical records were."

"Don't you think we should ask friends, not coworkers?"

"Do you have any friends who aren't coworkers?"

"No."

"Ditto." Mandy resumed drafting the poll.

"Don't you think we have to know what the baby's first name will be in order to decide which version of the last name sounds better?"

"Good point." After a sip of juice, she shared her favorites, "I like Skye for a girl and Dakota for a boy."

Upon hearing the non-traditional names, the conservative Toxicologist knew a disagreement was inevitable. "I kind of like Victoria and Leo."

"Seriously?" Mandy wrinkled her nose, "I think those are really old fashioned and boring. What made you think of those boring, stuffy names?"

"My grandparents…Victoria and Leo Andrews."

"Oh." Mandy grabbed a second piece of paper. "I'll make a poll about first names too."

---

"The dad's name is Keith Buckley." Greg had been helping out with DNA backlog when Nick called him to do a background check. "The fingerprint from the woman belongs to Kelly Buckley, that's how I tracked the birth record."

"Can you do me a favor and run this Buckley guy? The vic told the neighbor he died right after their son was born."

"Done." Greg chuckled as he grabbed the next paper.

"You already did it?"

"Who knows how to take care of you in more ways than one?"

"Another reason to spoil you on the mystery date."

"That's what I was counting on," Greg chuckled. "Okay, back to business…Keith Buckley is alive and well. He used his Visa card to get a room at The Restin Hotel and Casino at 7pm…a VIP suite. This morning he used it to buy a plane ticket from Nashville to Vegas. In other news, he owns two very successful country western dance clubs in Nashville and graduated at the top of his class from…brace yourself, Cletus."

"No."

"Texas A&M, class of 89."

"I guess even the best places have a few bad apples." Nick's voice hardened, "So Buckley rolls into town, finds his wife, stabs her a dozen times, and then decides to check into The Restin for a little R&R."

"Yeah, you'll really hate this next part," Greg warned. "At The Restin, he ordered the 'I killed my bitch of a wife' celebration package – champagne and strawberries from Room Service. Probably found a girl to share it with too."

"I seriously hate people a little more every night."

Suddenly worried about his hot-headed partner, Greg anxiously said, "Promise me you won't kill the guy when you confront him at The Restin. Don't play superhero either, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'd much rather see him sufferin' in prison than dead."

"Just the same, call me when he's alive and in cuffs."

"I promise, G," Nick replied in a warmer tone.

"Maybe the political focus shouldn't be on banning Gay Marriage," Greg remarked as he stood to return to the DNA Lab. "Maybe it should be on banning all marriage. Vartann cheats on his wife and then she nails Sara with a baseball bat, your brother cheats on his wife and destroys his family, I just found out that Danielle in Records is getting a divorce because she found out her husband spent their vacation money on a threesome at Sheri's Ranch, and now this case of love gone wrong."

"Don't get cold feet on me, G."

Greg smiled into the cell phone. "We're really happy right now, I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that happiness. If moving our rings to our left hands and saying 'I do' in front of our families is going to make us wield meat cleavers one day and chop each other to itty bitty pieces…I'm just saying."

"Now why would I ever come after you with a meat cleaver when I have a perfectly good gun collection? So stop your worryin', buttercup."

"I feel much better now, Tex, thanks." Greg laughed as he entered the DNA lab. "Okay, I have to get back to my pile of semen stains, which reminds me…I was in such a rush to cook your breakfast, I forgot to toss the sheets in the washer. Me bad."

"I bet you'll be happy when Wendy's back from her trip home for her sister's baby shower."

"For once, I don't mind being stuck in here." Prepping a slide, Greg said, "My plan is to hide in the DNA Lab until us being gay is old news."

---

"Look at Stokes all giddy on the phone with his fag boyfriend." Markson shoved a stick of gum in his mouth and offered the pack to Cavaliere.

Grabbing a piece of gum, the detective said, "I heard through the grapevine that they're planning one of those fake marriages."

"I don't wanna hear shit about it. I'm still having a hard time believing Stokes is queer. Sanders, yeah, that guy always seemed fruity to me, but Stokes…it makes me think any guy could be secretly queer and that makes me sick. I can't believe I'm the only one standing around in shock."

"Believe me, if you were in town the first night the news hit, you would have been in good company."

Feeling nauseated again, Jack Markson said, "Remember that 419 we worked at that gay spa last year? I still can't get what I saw there out of my head. Especially those big hairy guys having an orgy." He shivered.

"I love how they call it a spa," Cavaliere grumbled, "it's a friggin' screw club."

"And a popular one. I drive by there on the way home, the parking lot is always packed."

"Packed with fudge packers," the detective cracked, pleased with his own sense of humor.

Overhearing the conversation, Catherine cleared her throat and said, "Give me a break, gentlemen. If there were legal clubs filled with horny women waiting to have sex with strangers for free and you were single guys, are you telling me you wouldn't join in the fun? Don't waste your breath saying no," she laughed. "Straight guys resent the fact that they have to drop a ton of cash at a brothel if they can't find a women willing to give away the milk for free, while gay men can rent a locker at the spa for twenty bucks, get clean towels, complimentary condoms, and have fun all night. Face it, they have a better system, and that makes you jealous."

"I'm not jealous," Cavaliere countered, "I don't support queers, because two guys getting it on is unnatural and sacrilegious. I was raised a good Catholic boy, Willows, trust me when I say your buddy Stokes will be condemned to hell one day."

"Inside that house there's a mother on the floor stabbed 27 times and down the road Sara is at the hospital collecting an SAE kit on a 7 year old girl," Catherine shook her head. "We're already in hell, Chris, open your eyes. Nick figured that out when he had all that quality time in a coffin, so he's carving out a little unconventional happiness for himself and doesn't give a damn who knows it. More power to him." She started walking to the Denali for supplies, "Unlike you, he has a healthy set of balls and isn't afraid to use them."

---

Feeling like a Fertility god, Grissom strolled the halls of the lab with a glorious smile on his face. After three days of trying to inseminate his wife, the Biologist knew that two gametes could be fusing, or if it happened on the first attempt, a zygote could already be dividing for the second, third or fourth time. By the weekend, a 16-cell ball could be dropping into Sara's uterus where it would divide to create placenta and baby.

Baby…the word was both daunting and extraordinary, just like the word, father.

---

"Nick said yes," Carrie excitedly informed her partner as she clutched her cell phone and rocked in her office chair.

"To being a donor daddy?"

"No, to dinner on Sunday night."

"Ah." Jean laughed, "I thought that was a little fast. What should I make?"

"Something that will make Nick think that his child would be loved and well nourished. He's from Texas, maybe it would be best to make some southern comfort food. But he's real health-conscious, so nothing bad. Maybe you could take some southern classics and create healthy versions."

"How about I just drug him during cocktails and milk him for sperm? That would spare us a hell of a lot of dishes and paperwork."

"Very funny." Carrie smiled into the phone. "But if I just wanted sperm, I'd make a withdrawal from the local bank."

"I know, I know. You want a daddy for your baby. Someone very special with low cholesterol, who can play sports, and leap over tall buildings in a single bound. Just your every day saturated-fat-avoiding jock superhero."

---

"Stokes!" Cavaliere shouted when he saw the CSI rushing to catch The Restin hotel elevator. "Take the next one." He hurried to press the 'close door' button, but Nick's boot prevented the doors from shutting.

"I don't feel like waitin'." The CSI stepped inside, joining the hotel manager, the detective, and Officers Barker, Molia, and Winslow. "Security is pullin' the video feed." He nodded at the fifty-something, impeccably dressed business man. "Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Gallo."

"Just promise me you won't make a mess of the room." Smoothing his hands over his Armani suit, Brian Gallo inserted the manager's key into the elevator and pressed '21' for the VIP floor. "Every time LVPD comes here to question a guest, something ends up broken."

"Maybe you should screen your clientele better," Cavaliere grumbled, "it's not our fault that you let scumbags have rooms."

"It's because I don't want to get sued. I only got this job because the previous manager caused a legal nightmare when he refused a room to a Saudi family because he thought they were a terrorist cell. If a person has the means to acquire a room and isn't violating any policies, I give them one, regardless of gender, race, religion, ethnicity or sexual preference."

"Did you hear that, Stokes?" Officer Josh Winslow, a 24 year old hot shot who looked more like a surfer than a cop, joked, "It's a gay-friendly establishment, so maybe you and Sanders can honeymoon here."

"Yeah." Cavaliere couldn't resist joining in, "My wife and I went to San Diego, but Sin City sounds like a better perfect place for two guys to honeymoon."

"Enough with the gay jokes already," Officer Steve Barker, a 35 year old senior officer, shook his head. "Working with the two of you is like being back in fucking middle school."

"Amen," groaned rookie Officer Teresa Molia. "If I wanted to hang around immature losers all day, I'd be at home with my brothers."

"Mo, come on," Winslow teased the 22 year old newbie who he thought looked like a petite, flat-chested Jennifer Lopez, "you love hanging out with us and you know it."

"Maui," Nick said with a smile. "I'm goin' to Maui on my honeymoon and stayin' in a private house right on the beach. Greg's folks own it. They have a boat there too. When we're not in bed workin' overtime to secure our place in hell, we're gonna snorkel, hike, and go on one of those helicopter rides over a volcano. I can't wait." Grinning at Cavaliere, he said, "Don't worry, I'll bring you back a souvenir shirt that says 'my co-workers went to Maui and all they got me was this lousy t-shirt, because I'm a raging asshole."

The cops burst out laughing.

Unable to think of a good comeback, Chris checked his watch.

"So you're marrying up, huh, Stokes?" Barker teased as the elevator doors opened.

"Definitely." Nick pulled his gun from its holster. "Greg graduated at the top of his class at Stanford and has traveled to Egypt and Paris. He's a renaissance man who writes papers and books, I'm a simple boy from the ranch who likes to watch ESPN and play Xbox. The furthest I've ever been is Cancun."

"Opposites attract," Barker said as they readied in the hall, "my wife and I are nothing alike. I'm a cop, she's the artistic director at Nevada Ballet. It took a while, but we worked everything out. We trade off picking movies and vacations. I'd never admit it to her, but I'm actually starting to like Broadway musicals. We saw Wicked last time, that was actually pretty awesome."

"I like dating my opposite too," Winslow joked, "I don't have tits, but I like my dates to have big ones."

"Ugh." Teresa silently prayed for her transfer to the Evidence Department to come through.

"What's with the guns?" the hotel manager nervously asked. "Guns cause damage."

"Especially to people," Cavaliere replied while drawing his weapon, "so stay here holding the elevator and wait for us to return with the suspect." He grabbed his radio to confirm that all officers were in position. "Let's go." Since the suspect had stabbed his ex-wife with a butcher knife from her own kitchen, he expected the man to be dangerous, but not armed. "Hotel management, Mr. Buckley," he called out after knocking. "I need to talk to you, Sir." Standing directly in front of the peephole he knew the guy would only be able to see him from the shoulders up.

As the door opened, Keith Buckley growled, "It says 'do not disturb' right on the…"

"LVPD!" Cavaliere shouted while pointing his gun at the man's chest. "Hands up where I can see them."

Slowly lifting his hands, Buckley shook his head. "Chill out, man. You have the wrong guy. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm in town on business and..."

"Shut up!" The detective said, "He'll tell you who we think you are."

"Mr. Buckley, I'm CSI Nick Stokes from the LVPD Crime Lab." After stowing his weapon, he stepped forward with a cheery photograph of the vic. "Recognize her?"

"Oh my god." Buckley gulped as he stared at the photo of wife. "Did you find my wife? Did you find Kelly? Where is she? How does she look?"

"She was going by the name Debbie Lester." Cavaliere huffed, "And yeah, we found her, right where you left her after you stabbed her two dozen times."

"Wh…what?"

"Keep your hands up!" Officer Winslow barked while moving forward to check the guy for weapons.

"Here's what your wife looks like now." Nick held up a crime scene photo. "You wanna tell us what happened to her, Mr. Buckley? She was stabbed over two dozen times, that tells me it wasn't a random murder, her killer was makin' it personal. What happened?"

Keith looked to the officer. "That woman is covered in blood, how would you know it's Kelly? It's not her. K…Kelly had a birthmark, above her left hip…it looked like Minnie Mouse, that's why I called her Minnie. Did this woman have that? Did you see it? If it's not there, it's not Kelly."

"You mean this birthmark?" Nick held up another photo and pointed. "It's Kelly."

"No!" the husband burst into tears. "Why are you doing this to me? How did you even know I was here?"

Cavaliere rolled his eyes, "This is an Oscar worthy performance you're turning out, but the facts are, your wife was hiding in Vegas and we know you showed up here this morning, and then she ended up dead. Can you see why we're a little reluctant to believe your innocence?"

"Why was she hiding from you, man?" Nick stared at the sobbing guy. "Did she cheat on you and piss you off?"

"No! She wasn't hiding, she disappeared!" Buckley cried, "She was taken. Check the police report I filed two years ago. She's a missing person!"

"That case was closed, the detective told you it seemed like she walked off. Right?"

"She didn't leave me," Buckley cried harder. "We were happy. We were trying to have a baby. I told the detective…I told him. He didn't believe me."

"What about your wife's mother? Have you talked to her recently?"

"My wife's parents died in a car wreck when she was ten. She was raised by her Aunt Lilly. She died of breast cancer before I even met my wife."

The sound of the bedroom door opening had the cops and Nick whirling around to see who emerged. All were relieved to see a thirty-something woman with wet blonde hair wearing only a towel.

"What's going on?" the woman shrilled.

"Who's she?" Cavaliere asked before radioing to the other officers to stand down.

"My…" On the floor on his knees, Buckley choked out, "my business partner, Jessie Lantana. Her father owns fifty percent of my clubs, but doesn't get involved, he has Jessie be his eyes and ears."

"Looks like you two do a little more than business," Nick handed the woman a hotel robe from the bathroom. "Here you go, ma'am. I'm Nick Stokes from the LVPD Crime Lab. Mind tellin' us why you're here?"

Buckley cried as he stared at the bloody photo. "Her shower wasn't working, so she used mine. She has the room across the hall."

"It's five o'clock in the morning."

"We have an early flight back to Nashville," Jessie explained.

"Maybe the birthmark is the same, but it's a different woman." Buckley turned to the Crime Lab guy, "How can be sure it's Kelly?"

"It's simple really." Nick stared at the man, "Unlike people, fingerprints don't lie. And if we find your fingerprints at the crime scene, or on the knife, then we'll know you're lying."

"Would someone tell me what's going on already?" the woman nervously asked, cinching her bathrobe. "What the hell is going on?"

"Mr. Buckley's wife was found murdered across town this morning and we're here to bring him into the station for questioning. We'll need to talk to you too, ma'am, so you'll want to get dressed and…"

"Oh my god," the woman covered her mouth. "You're not saying he…but his wife's been gone for years and he…" She glanced over at her business partner. "Keith? We're here for a Bar Owners convention. Oh my god." Shaking like a leaf, she asked, "Do you really think he killed her?"

Before Nick could answer, his cell phone rang. "Excuse me, I'm gonna take this call and grab my kit from my truck."

"My stuff is in my room across the hall," Jessie told the officers. "I'll be right back."

"Officer Barker will accompany you across the hall, ma'am." When they were gone, Cavaliere instructed Winslow and Molia, "Take Mr. Buckley to the station. We'll meet you there with the woman."

After Stokes walked by, Winslow yanked the suspect to his feet. "Officer Molia will read your rights in the elevator."

After calling in an update, Chris walked across the hall to hurry things along. "What's taking her so long, Barker?"

"You know women."

Chris huffed over to the bedroom door and knocked, "Ma'am, we have to go."

"Ready." Clutching her purse, Jessie asked, "Just tell me where the police station is and…"

"We'll drive you."

"I don't want to look like a criminal," she snapped. "This is already embarrassing enough."

"Hey, Chris," Nick jogged into the room. "I just got off the phone with Greg and I have reason to believe that Buckley wasn't alone in the…"

"Move and he dies!" Jessie yelled after grabbing the detective's gun and pointing it at his head. "Hands in the air where I can see them." When the cop and the CSI complied, she said, "Kick the hotel door closed with your foot, CSI Stokes." While he did as asked, she removed the detective's radio and phone, stuffing it in her waist band.

"Jessie," Nick tried to reason with her, "there's cops all over and no way out but the front door."

"Not true," she countered, "I heard him order a stand down and tell the other two he'd meet them at the station. We're alone."

Nick shook his head, "There's no way you'll get away with anything here, so how about you stop while things aren't too bad?"

"Turn on your friend," Cavaliere said, trying not to panic. "Cut a deal, sell him out. I promise the DA will give you a good deal if you…"

"I was the one turning out the Oscar worthy performance, Detective. Keith was telling the truth. Okay, gentlemen, guns, radios, and phones on the floor and then kick them past me."

"Ma'am…" Nick calmly began, "one murder is a whole lot different than four. You don't want to…"

"Now do you believe me?" Jessie screamed after shooting the uniformed officer twice in the chest. "Give me your gun, radio and phone, or the detective is next!"

"Barker!" Nick yelled as he watched his co-worker hit the floor.

"Do what she says, Stokes!" The detective's heart rate soared.

"Okay! Okay! Here it comes." Trying to steady his breathing, Nick kicked everything over and stood with his hands in the air. "Can I help Officer Barker now?"

"Help yourself to his gun, you mean? No."

Nick tried to reason, "Someone probably heard that gunshot, Jessie."

"Are you kidding? You can't hear shit in this place. This is the VIP floor and the walls are thick to protect the privacy of the guests. I tested the theory myself." Tossing the detective's handcuffs on the table in front of her, she ordered, "You can cuff this guy to a chair and gag him, or you can watch him die."

Knowing blood was pouring out of the unconscious cop, Nick rushed to do as asked, "After this, will you get Barker's gun and let me stop the bleeding?"

"You got it half right." Stuffing Barker's gun, radio, and phone in her tote bag, Jessie answered, "Now sit your ass in the other chair and let me cuff and gag you." She yanked the phone cord out of the wall on her way to the table.

"Then what are you gonna do, Jessie?" Nick asked, as he took a seat. "If you manage to get out of the hotel, you'll get twenty minutes lead time at most, and then you'll be running."

Opening Barker's cuffs, she replied, "Luckily I was on the track team once upon a time."

"You go to A&M like Keith?"

"No, I went to a little school called Harvard, ever hear of it?"

"Smart girl, huh?"

"Obviously, since I fooled LVPD's finest." Holding up the open cuffs, she said, "Put your hands behind the back of the chair."

"I think someone's by the door." When the woman momentarily looked away, Nick gripped the seat of the chair and jumped backwards, using the chair and his body weight to knock the woman to the ground. When the gun slipped out of her hands, he dove for it.

Scrambling to her feet, Jessie lunged for her tote bag, hoping to get Barker's gun out before the CSI could turn around.

"Don't move!" Nick breathlessly yelled as the woman stood holding the open tote bag. "Drop the bag. Drop it or I'll shoot you!" When she did, he said, "Good choice, Jessie, now kick it this way and have a seat in that chair you wanted me in." Crouching down, he grabbed the radio to call for help.

She spat at the detective, "should have killed all of you when I had the chance."

"Why'd you kill Kelly?" Nick asked after tossing the radio and using the handcuff keys to free the detective.

"Bitch!" Cavaliere snarled as soon as he was ungagged. Snatching the cuffs that had been used to restrain him, he snapped them on the killer.

"Barker!" Nick raced over to the cop after grabbing towels from the bathroom. "Barker, can you hear me?" He checked for a pulse.

"Yeah," the cop whispered, "I was…pretending to be unconscious. How bad is it?"

Relieved to see the bullets had actually hit the upper right quadrant of the man's chest, and not his heart or belly, the smiling CSI said, "There's a lot of blood, but it didn't hit any major organs, so it looks worse than it is. You're definitely gonna live to see another musical." He pressed a clean towel to the wound. "I know this hurts, but I gotta apply lots of pressure." Trying to distract the cop, he asked, "Hey, what's the next musical your wife's makin' you see?"

"Jersey Boys," the cop panted. "August…for her birthday. My chest hurts."

"What's Jersey Boys about?" Nick asked, trying to sound as cheery as possible. "Besides boys from Jersey."

"Frankie Valli and the…Four Seasons."

"Hey, Greg loves listenin' to them when he's workin' on this Vegas book, 'cause the book is about the 60s. He sings Oh What a Night all the time. Our dog howls with him and between you and me…the dog sounds better."

"What kind of dog?" the cop asked, trying not to panic at the sight of his blood soaking the hotel towel. "

"Yellow Lab."

"My wife picked a Westie. I hate it." Fear finally catching up, the cop's eyes filled with tears. "I fought with my wife before I left for work. Over redoing the kitchen…tile. I didn't want to spend the money. Would you tell her I'm sorry if I don't…"

"You're gonna be okay, man. Really." Nick spoke with conviction as he straddled the cop's thighs and applied more force to the bullet holes. "Ambulance is probably pullin' in right now. You'll get first dibs in the ER and be patched up in no time. Soon you'll be hearin' your Westie yap and arguin' about kitchen tile."

"I didn't kiss her goodbye. I always kiss her goodbye. Today, I didn't…" Tears fell on the cop's cheeks as chills raced through his body. "C…cold."

"Toss me a blanket, Chris!" Nick yelled, "He's startin' to shake. Probably shock."

"As cops burst into the suite, the detective rushed over with a comforter. "Here. EMTs are in the elevator."

"I hope you're not homophobic like Cavaliere here." Nick joked as the blanket went over them, "'Cause we've had to get cozy waitin' on the EMTs."

"I…I could kiss you," Barker shivered. "You saved my life."

Nick glanced up at Cavaliere, "Hey, how about that? The fairy saved the day while the macho man let his guard down and got himself held prisoner and his man shot."

---

"There was a shooting at the scene?" Greg asked Grissom. "Who was shot?" His entire body tensed as he stood in the middle of the DNA Lab. "Is Nick…"

"He's fine, Greg." Grissom took a step closer. "Nick disarmed the suspect after she took Detective Cavaliere's gun and shot an officer."

"Disarmed the suspect." His knees weak, Greg moved to sit on a stool. "As in like what…tackling him and fighting for the gun?"

"Something like that, yes. I didn't get all the details in the call, but…"

Gripping his head, Greg screamed, "I specifically told him not to play hero! Why does he keep doing this shit? He may think he's Superman, but he's not made of steel! If he's not chasing down child killers, he's talking suicidals out of their weapons, and now he's…what's next, rushing into a burning building or…"

"Greg!" Grissom yelled to get his attention. "Nick's fine and we don't know the whole story. Maybe he risked his life because he believed he would have died otherwise. Let's reserve judgment."

Greg peeled off his gloves and threw them towards the trash. "It's…" His emotions bubbling up, he said, "I used to think it sucked to leave for work every day and not have someone to kiss goodbye, but now I have someone to kiss goodbye and…" He forced oxygen through his nose. "Life may have been boring, but it was a lot less stressful before someone loved me."

"Tell me about it."

"We had this really special time before coming to work and…" Greg's voice trembled, "Our kiss goodbye today, really could have been a kiss goodbye."

"Greg…"

"If you quote Shakespeare or say some other philosophical bullshit, I might kill you!" Greg sucked in a jagged breath. "Sorry. I'm a little tweaked."

Deciding not to cite Shakespeare as planned, Grissom said, "I was going to say, Nick's at the hospital waiting to relay a message to Officer Barker's wife when she arrives. Wanna ride?"

"Yeah." Greg stood and tossed his lab coat. "Thanks."

"I really do know how you feel." Grissom opened the door of the DNA Lab. "It's not easy letting the woman I love walk out of here into potential danger every night. I just have to have faith she'll walk back through the door in the morning."

"And what would you do if she didn't come back one day, Griss?"

"I…" The man who waited his whole life to fall in love, pondered the question for a moment, and said, "I don't know."

***

Chapter 27: Real Men – Part 2

Standing in the bustling hallway of the Desert Palms ER, Greg watched his partner talking to Officer Barker's wife. They were standing in a treatment cubicle, partially obscured by a hospital curtain, and as the minutes passed, it became apparent that Nick was even more extraordinary than he thought. He was an action hero, a counselor, a teacher, a lover and Greg had no doubt that he'd be a perfect husband. He felt lucky to have him, terrified of losing him, and pathetic for not being half the man he was.

"Greg," Grissom tapped his employee on the shoulder. "If you're okay, I'm going to head up to Pediatrics on the third floor. Sara's up there waiting for…"

"I'm fine. You don't need to stay." The rattled CSI leaned against the wall. "I'm just waiting for Nick to get done talking to Barker's wife before I tell him I'm here. She looks pretty upset, so I don't want to interrupt."

Grissom started walking. "Hey…tell Nick I said good job."

"Good? The guy took on a woman with a loaded gun and then stopped a cop from bleeding out. That sounds like a great job to me." Wearing his love and admiration on his sleeve, Greg said, "Now that I think about it, great doesn't cut it either."

"You're absolutely right." Grissom smiled. "Tell Nicky I said fantastic job."

"I will." When Greg turned around, he was thrilled to see Mrs. Barker walking out of the ER cubicle with a nurse. "My turn." He hurried over and peered around the curtain. "Fear not, your goofy sidekick is here, Superman. Do you need your cape taken to the cleaners?"

The sight of his partner smiling at him soothed Nick's shattered nerves. "They called you?"

"Nah, on paper, I'm nothing to you. They called Grissom because he's your boss." Greg slipped behind the curtain and pulled it closed. "I came here the second I heard." He placed his palm on Nick's cheek. "Look at you, not even a scratch. I bet you weren't even scared."

"You'd be losin' that bet." His emotions blindsiding him, the hero's eyes welled. "I was scared shitless when she grabbed Cavaliere's gun, but when she shot Barker in cold blood I was friggin' terrified. She was gonna kill all of us, G."

Greg pulled him close. "You're shaking." He never would have guessed from looking at him.

Closing his eyes, Nick clung to his partner. "Thanks for comin' down here."

Mindlessly running his fingers through Nick's hair, he whispered, "When Grissom walked into the lab and said there was a shooting, I thought he meant you. For a split second I thought, if it had to happen, I was glad it happened today and not last week when we were fighting about stupid stuff because we were overworked and overstressed."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"Let's make a deal that we never walk out the door pissed off at each other. Some people don't go to bed mad, I don't care about that, we can sleep mad at each other, but let's never walk out of our house or the Lab or anywhere without things being right." When their foreheads and noses were touching, he whispered, "We can fight in the house, and if we're not home, we can agree to postpone the argument until we get there. How's that for an incredibly ridiculous plan that I absolutely need you to agree to if you're going to keep playing superhero?"

Cupping Greg's face, Nick said, "I just spent the last ten minutes telling Jolie Barker all the things her husband needed her to hear in case he dies in the OR. I don't want a cop to have to tell you I'm sorry for calling you an ungrateful bitch because you're never satisfied with what we have or the size of my paycheck and I don't want a stranger tellin' you that I don't blame you for hating our kitchen tile, it sucks."

"I love our kitchen tile," Greg chuckled, happy for a reason to laugh.

"No you don't. You don't even like the house, G. You wanted a massive warehouse apartment with giant skylights, huge windows, and a spiral staircase leading to a bitchen loft bedroom."

"My dad told you that."

"Yeah, a few weeks ago, he said those were your exact words. Why did he have to tell me what you really wanted? I don't want a sidekick, G, I want a partner. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because what I wanted in 1994 seemed irrelevant in 2007. In 1994 I thought using words like 'bitchen' made me cool. I wanted a Porsche, a million bucks, a D-cup babe on each arm, and a boy toy at my beck and call. Hello? I was an immature idiot. A 20 year old virgin with punk hair and a Habitrail in his bedroom doesn't have a clue about living happily ever after as a grown up and I'm really ticked at my dad for not putting the comment in context."

"You had a Habitrail in your bedroom when you were 20?"

"Kind of solves the virginity mystery, doesn't it?"

"Definitely." While the world around him remained invisible, Nick said, "If you don't want kids, you know you can tell me, right? I promise I won't go anywhere."

"I don't know if I want kids," Greg answered, "I promise I'm not lying to string you along because I'm afraid you'll leave. I really just don't know. I don't know if I can handle it. I can barely handle the idea that you might go to work one night and die, leaving me alone. I can't imagine how it would feel to also have a kid to raise on my own if that happened. I don't know how or when I'll know for sure, but when it comes to me, you won't have to hear it from my dad."

"After what almost happened, I just want to make sure everything's out in the open between us, y'know? There's compromise in marriage and then there's livin' for someone else. I don't want to find out in the eleventh hour that you gave up your dreams for me, because whether you believe it or not, I'm not worth any more than you are and either are my dreams. You have a track record of sellin' yourself short, so it's not always easy to believe you."

"And you have a track record of lying to make me feel better about myself, so it's not always easy to believe you."

"What?"

"Like tonight when you said I was great in bed."

Nick stuffed his hands on his hips. "Honey, I watched four hours of porn the other night just so I could be a better lover. If I thought my skills were vastly superior, why would I go through the trouble of improving on them? Hmm? Ever think of that? Those words and moans were 100 percent real." He winked, "I also meant it when I said your burrito was damn good."

Greg laughed, releasing a little more tension. "Okay, okay, I'll believe I'm a burrito and sex god, if you'll believe I'm happy with our kitchen tile and lack of a bitchen loft."

"Deal."

"So we're good?"

"No, we're fantastic."

Nick took a cleansing breath. "Alright then, if we get hit by a bus walkin' out of the hospital, we'll die knowing we loved each other. Now kiss me before we step out from behind the curtain and have to pretend we're not crazy about each other."

Lost in a lip lock, the two CSIs didn't immediately notice their protective curtain being tugged aside by a nurse.

"Sorry!" Nurse Suzi Weaver felt terrible for exposing the kissing men to the ER waiting area full of cops. "I should have asked if anyone was behind here. It's only my second week. We have two ambulances coming in and I was told to prep this cubicle, sorry."

"It's okay," Nick assured the rambling red-head. "No harm done." Though from the looks on Markson and Winslow's faces, he doubted his statement was true. "We'll get out of your way." He released Greg's hand and stepped into the hall. "You hungry, G?"

Greg could feel every police officer's stare burning into his flesh. "Uh…" Proud of his partner and tired of dirty looks, he pointed at Nick and informed LVPD's finest, "Yeah, that's my boyfriend. The hero thing totally makes up for him loving country music and ESPN. We have a house in the 'burbs, a yellow lab named Chico, and dream of having kids one day. We're just your average boring suburban queers. We're monogamous, neither one of us has ever been to a bathhouse, we're both HIV negative, and Nick's never seen an episode of Queer as Folk. I know you were probably thinking our life was pretty scandalous, but it's not, so, move along, nothing to stare at here."

"Sorry," Teresa Molia, the token female cop in the group, nervously said, "I…I didn't mean to stare. I've just never seen two guys…you know…kissing. Well, except for Tom Selleck and Kevin Kline in that movie In and Out and that was on TV and it was a repeat on Lifetime so I'm sure they couldn't use tongues, not that I'm saying you were! Not that I'm saying you shouldn't!" Feeling all eyes on her, she frantically tried to explain, "I'm not close-minded, really, I'm not, it's just…I'm the only girl in a family of seven and we're Catholic, like really Catholic, like my mom has a whole closet full of Jesus candles and I've never even watched Sex in the City. It was kind of like 'wow, two hot guys are kissing, I've never seen that', so I couldn't stop watching, even after you were done. " She covered her face. "I'm just digging the hole deeper, aren't I?"

Winslow, the 24 year old hot shot laughed at his co-worker, "Any deeper and you'll have a front row seat for the Olympics in Beijing."

"You think I'm hot?" Greg asked the cop who looked like a mini J Lo.

"G." Nick shot his partner a look.

"Didn't she say 'two hot guys kissing'?" Greg informed his partner, "You hear that all the time, but for me it's a novelty. Let me have my moment in the sun, dude."

"Mr. Stokes!" Jolie Barker came bounding over to her husband's rescuer. "I just spoke with the nurse and she said they already have the bullets out and are patching up. He's going to be weak from the blood loss and the trauma, but no serious damage."

"That's great, Jolie." Nick filled with relief and joy. "I told you he wasn't ready to quit."

"If it wasn't for you stopping the bleeding, it wouldn't have been a happy ending." Flicking her tears, she whispered, "Steve doesn't know yet, but I'm pregnant. I was planning to surprise him with the news this weekend." Tossing her arms around the man, she cried, "Thank you for keeping my baby's daddy alive."

"Yep, that's my boyfriend," Greg sighed and turned to the cops. "My parents totally approve."

Teresa burst out laughing, "I'm sure they do. If I brought him home, my father would light cigars and my mother would start knitting booties."

Still reeling from the shock of his former workout buddy being gay, Markson felt obligated to provide a reality check. "Stokes saving the day doesn't change what he is or the fact he's been lying about what he is!"

"Hey." From the corner of the waiting area, Cavaliere spoke for the first time since arriving. "Not the time or place, Jack."

"You're not the one Stokes was working out with, Chris!" Markson pointed at the liar. "I never would have let him spot me or hit the showers with me if I knew he was queer! He knew that, so he lied to my face and put his hands on me every chance he got."

Hoping to joke away the tension, Nick stepped forward and said, "I wasn't lying, I was in the closet, and I wasn't hittin' on you. You're not even my type, man. Look at who I'm marryin'. I like brainy guys." When Markson's fist connected with his cheek, Nick realized joking was a bad choice in this instance. And when he was thrown against a hospital wall, he knew Markson actually believed he had been groped. "I swear I wasn't…"

"Markson!" Cavaliere and Winslow yelled at their fellow officer as Nick's head hit the edge of the wall and his body crashed to the floor.

"Oh my God he's bleeding!" Jolie Barker shrieked when she saw blood on Nick's face. It all seemed to happen in a split second. "We need a doctor!" She ran down the hall. "Help!"

"Get up, Stokes!" Markson screamed as he shoved away Winslow and kicked the CSI. "Get up, you homo piece of shit!"

Instinct taking over, Greg charged at the raging cop. "Leave him alone!"

"Stay out of it!" The outraged cop pushed Sanders into a chair.

"Don't touch him!" Greg had been forced to take a comprehensive self-defense and combat course after getting beaten on the job, but he never imagined using the moves, especially not against another member of LVPD. "Don't touch him!" Much to his surprise, the combat techniques actually worked as promised, even against a much bigger guy. "Stop it!" The hospital suddenly changed to an alleyway and Markson morphed into a gang member, instead of a cop. "Get off me!" He knew he had to fight to live. "Get off me!"

"Sanders!" Cavaliere worked with Winslow and Molia to restrain the CSI. "He's out! Stop!"

Looking down, Greg saw blood spatter on his shirt.

"He was knocked out when you slammed his head into the supply cart." Panting from the struggle, Winslow said, "He's out, he's not hurting you!"

"G!" While three cops and a hospital security guard restrained his partner, Nick stepped in front of him and cupped his face. "G, it's okay. I'm okay. G! Look at me! It's just a little blood."

"Nick?" The darkness of the alley was suddenly replaced by the sights and sounds of a bright white hospital. "Am I gonna die?" Greg asked, thinking he was on a stretcher. "How bad is it? Where's Sara? She said she'd stay. I can't move. Am I paralyzed? You're bleeding. They got you too?"

"You're fine. We're both okay. You can't move because three cops and a security guard are holding your arms and legs." Nick put his hands on his partner's shoulders. "Let him go, I've got him."

"No way!" Winslow didn't think letting go was a good idea. "Did you see what he did to Markson's nose?"

Knowing Sanders's background, Cavaliere said, "You think it's PTSD, Stokes?"

"Yeah, I have a little experience with it myself." Nick took his partner by the wrists. "It really messes with your head, makes things seem real. You're fine, G. You don't have a scratch on you."

"Wh…what happened?" Greg asked, the haze starting to lift. "He punched you." Seeing Officer Markson's bloody face as he moaned on the floor, he asked, "Did you do that?"

"No," Nick replied, "you did."

Glancing down at his hands, Greg saw blood and started trembling. "I…"

"We need to treat your laceration, sir." The nurse motioned for the CSI to follow her. "You can't stand in the middle of the hall dripping blood. Exam room 4, please."

"I did that?" Greg let Nick lead him down the hall by the wrist. "I did that?"

---

"The neighbor did it," Sara lifelessly told her husband as they sat on a bench in the hospital courtyard. "The eleven year old neighbor. We have a seven year old victim and an eleven year old rapist who among other things, used an action figure."

"Sara…"

"I can't do this anymore."

"Honey…"

"Don't." Holding an empty Styrofoam cup in her trembling hand, the distraught CSI said, "I've tried so hard to be like you. I've watched you and listened to you, but here I am…still not you. I can't not feel this." Tears loading in her eyes, her mouth quivered, "Because if I don't feel this…it's like there's a line in the sand and if I cross it, I know there's no coming back. I have to feel this and say I can't take it anymore, because if I don't, I think I'll either lose my mind, or stop being human and I don't want either to happen."

"What are you saying" Gil softly asked, unsure if he should take his wife's hand.

"I'm saying…" She let the tears flow without wiping them. "I'm saying that I want to kill an eleven year old boy for what he did to a sweet, innocent seven year old girl and that in itself isn't healthy. But if I did kill him, I wouldn't feel bad, and that's not just unhealthy, it's…I don't even know what it is. I have murder on my mind, not solving one, committing one."

"I think you're just traumatized by what you saw, Sara."

"You think?" She jumped to her feet. "I can't believe you're excited about bringing a child into this world! Eleven year old rapists? He tied her up with a pink princess jump rope! Do you think she's still dreaming of castles and princes today?"

Gil stood to reason with her. "Sara…"

"Don't touch me!"

He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't be tempted. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"For starters you could actually listen to what I'm saying and hear me!"

"Okay, okay, I'm listening. Look at me, Sara. Talk to me." Fearing for their future, Gil pleaded with his eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

"I..." It was impossible to instruct him since she didn't know herself. "I need you to um..." Suddenly it became crystal clear. "Here's what you can do for me." Taking a deep breath, she unclipped her ID badge from her shirt. "I need you to take that in and tell them I quit. Can you do that for me?"

"I…" His gut told him that if he protested or encouraged her to rethink the decision, she'd walk out the door and keep going. "I'll do it right now."

"Thank you." She handed over her gun and her pager. "I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He hoped she meant the hospital.

"I'm going home to take Bruno for a nice long walk and then I'm going to climb into bed and mindlessly watch stupid TV shows and pretend that I don't know what's happening all around me."

"Call me if there's anything you need."

Sara nodded and started down the path and away from the line in the sand. "I'll see you at home."

---

"Honey, I'm home and I'm not alone," Dave Sanders announced as he walked into his house with his son. "3, 2, 1…"

"Gregory!" Jan came charging into the living room, the strings of her apron flying behind her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom." He returned her hug and smiled at his father who had bet him twenty bucks that Jan would be suffocating him before he made it out of the foyer.

"Twenty bucks." Dave tossed his keys on the entry table and rescued his son from the choking embrace. "He says he's not hungry, but Nick told me he hasn't eaten since 9 o'clock last night, so he needs to eat something. Maybe some breakfast." Nick had called and asked him to pick up Greg and keep an eye on him until he was done giving statements about what happened at the crime scene and the hospital.

"Waffles and bacon?" the doting mother asked. "Or pigs in a blanket?"

"Toast will be fine, thanks."

"You need more than toast if you haven't…" When Jan saw her husband give her the 'don't push' stare, she backed off. "Toast and juice it is." She scurried ahead. "I'll make some eggs just in case."

"Thanks." Greg followed his parents to the kitchen. "Smells like fresh paint. I thought you had everything done before you moved in?"

"We did," Jan explained, 'the girls are painting Tawny's room. She's going to stay in the guest suite. I told you that, right?"

"I'm sure you did."

Dave reminded his wife, "He's a little preoccupied, honey."

To alleviate her own stress, Jan kept yammering. "We put the old guest room furniture in there and then we gave her a budget of $500 to fix it up anyway she'd like, bedding, paint, whatever. Considering her wardrobe was centered around animal prints, black leather, and hot pink, her decorating choices pleasantly surprised me. I never would have guessed she was a floral girl at heart."

"Dad, can I borrow a shirt?" Underneath his zippered sweat shirt, Greg was still wearing a tee covered in Markson's blood spatter.

"We spilled paint, Dad!" Jenni's voice called out from down the hall. "Can you help?"

"Sure, pick anything in my closet, son." Dave darted down the hall yelling, "Don't smear it into the carpet, girls! Let me do it!"

"Be right back, Mom." Greg returned to the living room and hurried upstairs to his parents' huge master bedroom suite.

---

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sara stared at her shoes and wondered what she might want to do for the rest of her life. "You think I'd make a good dog walker, Bruno?"

Sensing something was wrong, the boxer padded over and sat at his owner's feet.

Believing the dog was smiling at her, she scratched his head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

The dog rested his head on his owner's knee.

"You wanna watch TV with me?" When the dog jumped on the bed, Sara crawled under the covers. "I don't know when I'll come out."

---

Knowing the blood stains would never come out of his favorite t-shirt, Greg shoved it in a plastic garbage bag that he had snagged from the linen closet. After tying a knot with the handles, he tossed it in the trash and moved to the sink to wash his chest, which was stained from the blood soaking through his shirt.

Once he was done drying his body, he opened his mother's medicine cabinet and looked for Diazepam. "2, 5 and 10 mg bottles. I knew I could count on you, Jan." He popped two 5mg pills in his mouth and downed them with a handful of water. "20 minutes and I'll be snoozin' soundly." So he'd have some at home, he dumped a bunch of pills in a small Ziploc bag that he had taken from the linen closet.

"This brings back memories," Dave remarked while shutting the bathroom door behind him. "None of them good."

Shit. Turning to face his father, Greg explained, "If I go to my regular doctor or get something filled at the pharmacy, it'll be on my insurance and the department will know and think I have a problem."

"And stealing pills and sneaking them home in a Ziploc bag is supposed to make me think you don't have a problem?"

Greg tossed the baggie on the counter. "Whatever. Keep 'em."

"Have you forgotten that you told me the reason Nick was controlling with you is that he caught you abusing painkillers and has to watch you closely?" Dave poured the pills into the correct bottle and shut the medicine cabinet. "Your mother was there too, so don't bother denying it."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"Yes, in your kitchen, right after getting pissed at me for accusing you of lying and right before you told me that Nick bruised you during sex because he was a panicky virgin, which I didn't buy for a second."

"I really suck at lying, don't I?" While his father nodded, Greg slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. "Yeah, I was serving you a big plate of bullshit that day in the kitchen. I was tired of defending Nick and was desperate to get you off his case, so I threw myself under the bus to save him some grief. Not that you're going to believe anything I say now, since it's been established I'm a thief and liar."

"Try me." Dave took a seat next to his. "Tell me how the bruise really happened."

Pulling his knees to his chest, Greg wrapped his arms around them. "I was being an immature idiot, driving Nick insane and hurting his feelings. I didn't mean to be a smart ass when he was pouring his heart out to me, it was just a nervous reaction. The only other person who ever told me they loved was Lacey, and that didn't end well, so the more emotionally intense Nick got, the more my subconscious tried to undermine him. I kept cracking jokes and he kept asking me to stop and listen to what he had to say, because it was really important, and after I promised for the fourth time only to crack a joke right as he was saying he wanted to spend the rest of his life me, he screamed 'forget it' and shoved me out of his way so he could bolt. He didn't mean to shove me so hard, but he was pumped with adrenaline, and I really do bruise easily."

"Has anything like that happened since?"

"No. I swear. Nick felt horrible when he saw the bruise, but ultimately the argument got us to say what we both needed to say and we ended up much closer to one another. It also changed the dynamics of our love life in a really positive and equalizing way if you catch my drift."

"Got it."

Greg glanced over at his father. "Mom told me she chucked a toaster at your head the day before your wedding. She said Nana Olaf had to cover your bruise with makeup so it wouldn't show up in the photos."

"I had forgotten all about that." Dave smiled at the memory. "Your mother was going crazy over wedding details and I made some smart ass remark about napkins and she lost it. Honestly, she was justified in tossing a toaster my way, because she had worked tirelessly to make our wedding the best day of our lives and what I said made it seem like her efforts weren't appreciated. The truth was, the size of the event and the preparations had me terrified and the smart ass remark was my nerves coming to a head. I guess you and I are more alike than we thought."

"I guess so." After a moment of silence, Greg quietly said, "I don't have a drug problem, Dad. I'm just having a rough day and I know what happened today is going to bring my nightmares back and then I won't be able to sleep. I wanted to chill today and then I wanted to have some pills on hand in case I couldn't sleep. I have plenty of Vicodin at home, but that makes me hyper, not mellow. If I go to the doctor asking for anxiety meds, they'll have me back in counseling and flag my file. I don't want that to happen, because this is a temporary thing I'm going through and I know I'll be better in a few days."

Without a word, Dave rose to his feet and walked over to the medicine cabinet. "Here." He tossed the 5mg bottle at his son. "Now you don't look like a drug dealer."

"You're giving me the bottle?" Greg stood and stared in confusion.

"If I had the night you had, or the year you've had, I don't imagine I'd be sleeping well either. I'd rather give you pills and know you're sleeping, than have you at crime scenes exhausted and distracted. It's a judgment call. Time will tell if it's the wrong call." He dropped his hands on his son's shoulders. "I trust you. Now give me a hug."

"Thanks, Dad."

"What's really on your mind?"

Feeling safe in his father's arms, Greg whispered, "Today I remembered why I didn't get close to anyone since Lacey. You can't lose someone if you don't have someone. A part of me wishes I never said 'I love you', a part of me wants to take off my ring and run, because what are the odds of a happy ending? The city is filled with psychos and if they don't kill you, there's like a dozen fatal traffic accidents a day to get you. Nick survived a gun being pointed at him only to get pounded by some hate-filled homophobic jock. It's only a matter of time until I'm alone again and the wait is eating me alive."

Wiping his son's tears, Dave said, "You may as well have died in that alley if you're not going to live."

Another round of tears flowed. "It's just hard, Dad. The not knowing how it's going to end is torture."

"Then let me solve the mystery for you." Dave rested his hands on his son's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "There are three possibilities - you die first and Nick misses you, or Nick dies first and you miss him, or you die together. That's how it's going to happen. There's no way of knowing when. You may get forty more years together, you may get forty more days, or a meteor could hit this house forty seconds from now. How do you get over not caring about when? You ask yourself, does anyone die thinking 'I wish I had spent my life alone and safe in a padded room instead of loving someone' or 'if only I hadn't loved my spouse so much for the last 20 years, dying would be so much easier'? I really doubt it."

Greg stepped back and nodded. "I know you're right in theory."

"Greg, do you have any idea how hard it was for your mother and me to try for a third child after grieving for two stillborn babies?"

"No, I don't know how you did it."

"We said it would be more painful to give up our dream than to suffer a loss for a third time. We lived in fear for nine months and then you were born and every second of suffering that we had endured up until that moment disappeared, and all we felt was joy. That's what I think death will be like. I think in those final moments, all the bad I've endured will slip away and all that will be left is the joy I've experienced. Then the joy will consume me and I'll feel overwhelmed and content with how my life turned out. If you don't live, what's going to be there at the end when the bad slips away? Nothing."

Greg sniffled and reached for a tissue. "When did you become a philosopher, Dad?"

"When every man does," the 61 year old chuckled, "on my 60th birthday. You suddenly have this overwhelming need to make sense of your life and ensure that you're leaving something worthwhile behind."

"Is that why you're trying so hard to make me someone you can be proud of?"

"How much Valium did you take, son?"

"10 mg."

"Exhausted and on an empty stomach?"

"Of course. Diazepam starts to metabolize in 15 minutes under those conditions." Greg took a moment to lecture his father, "Now that you have three young ladies with emotional problems living in the house, I'd recommend keeping all prescription meds locked up. Just in case."

"Good point. C'mon." Dave guided his son out of the bathroom and over to the bed. "Sit while I get you a shirt."

Greg used the time to ponder his father's words. "You're right, Dad. I'm going to seize the day. Carpe diem!"

"That's the spirit." Dave tugged a white t-shirt over his son's head followed by a Stanford sweatshirt. "Comfy?"

"Thanks, Daddy," he joked.

Smiling, Dave pulled back the covers and helped him get situated. "Two pillows enough?"

"This is a really comfortable bed."

"It's a sleep number bed. I'm a 30, your mother's a 70."

"I guess that makes me a 50. Wait…are the sheets clean?" Greg cringed. "I'll be totally squicked if I'm sleeping on parental sex remnants."

Dave burst out laughing. "They're fresh out of the laundry."

Greg sighed, "I'm going to get some rest, and then I'm going to go home and carpe diem with Nick, two, maybe three times, because you never know when the last time will be the last time."

"Did you swipe some of my Levitra too?"

"Nah," Greg giggled, "I got my own bottle at home. Every once in a while we like to have a marathon."

"I wish that stuff had been around when your mother was in her 30s. I felt like an exhausted stud horse every time she had a hormonal surge."

"That's what's great about living with a guy…no hormonal fluctuation."

"After sex I bet you don't have to worry about staying awake, right? You're both guys, you probably both pass out."

"That's a huuuuuge perk."

"Does Nick ever say he has a headache and cut you off?"

"Of course not, he's a guy. We're perfectly equally horny when we're not exhausted."

"But are you perfectly equally happy?"

"Yeah," Greg replied in a groggy voice. "Today I woke up to the feel of Nick's warm hands gliding over my body while he whispered, 'I need you'. A year ago I was waking up to the sound of my annoying alarm clock and the highlight of my day was jacking off in the shower. You're right, Dad, I'm glad I took a chance on love, because I don't want to be thinking fondly of my right hand when I die."

"You better stop talking before you say something even more embarrassing."

"Are you still bummed I'm gay?"

"Yes," Dave ran his fingers through his son's hair, "because you're living in an intolerant world. Nick has seven stitches in his head just because he's gay. That bums me out, Greg. But I love you, and I'm thrilled that you know what it feels like to be loved by someone. I'm happy that you got to experience what it's like to wake up to someone begging you to make love to them, and I'm relieved that you won't be thinking fondly of your right hand on the day you die. It doesn't matter to me that the someone is a guy, but I'm bummed that you're gay in an intolerant world. Is that a good answer?"

"No," Greg shook his head, "it's a fantastic answer."

Dave nostalgically placed a kiss on his son's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too Dad," Greg whispered, sleep coming on strong. "Thanks for having the balls to go for a third kid after watching two die." He gave up trying to keep his eyes open. "Right after I sleep off this stolen Valium, I promise I'm gonna cowboy up and start living my life in a way that makes you proud. I think I may even grow a set and have a kid one day."

"I'm sure you will." Reclining against the pillows, Dave decided to spend a little time watching his son breathe and counting his blessings.

---

"I'm pregnant," Mandy confessed to her parents through the safety of her telephone. "And in true Afterschool Special fashion, it happened because we were both drunk and careless. Don't worry though, he's a very healthy, intelligent, responsible guy. His name is Henry Andrews, he's the lead Toxicologist at the lab. We're dating right now, but it's too soon to tell if we'll be ready to make a bigger commitment. We're taking it one day at a time." She braced for her conservative parents' reaction.

"Does this mean you're not a lesbian?" Pauline Webster asked with optimism in her voice.

"What?" Mandy gaped at the phone. "No, Ma, I'm not a lesbian."

"She's not a lesbian, Harold!"

"I tell you I'm single and pregnant and all you do is rejoice that I'm not a lesbian?"

"We've been worried and wondering for years, dear. Especially after you cut your hair recently. Why do you think we tried to fix you up with men so many times?"

"I just thought you were into torturing me." She rolled her eyes. "If I had known getting knocked up would end the blind dates from hell, I would have wantonly spread my legs years ago."

"Enough with the potty mouth, Mandy-Lynn, you have an impressionable baby in your belly."

---

"How was your sister's baby shower, Simms?" Hodges shifted the phone to his left ear and reclined on his couch.

"As sappy as I thought it would be."

"I knew you'd miss me and call."

"It's Greg I miss. He's supposed to be covering for me, but he's not answering or returning my calls. I was expecting some results from DC and he was supposed to call me this morning."

"Sanders was too busy kicking ass to call you."

"What?" Wendy laughed. "Greg's a lover not a fighter, what are you talking about?"

"You shouldn't leave town, Simms. All hell breaks loose when you're gone." And I miss you. Settling against the cushions, the lonely scientist spoke slowly to maximize his time with his dream girl. "A suspect grabbed Detective Cavaliere's gun and held it to his head after using it to shoot a cop. Nick, in true superhero form, managed to disarm the suspect, free the detective, and save the cop from bleeding out."

"Whoa."

"Don't waste your time getting hot and bothered, Simms, he likes boys remember? And everyone knows cerebral men make the best lovers. Case in point, Sara didn't smile until Grissom boned her, did she?"

"You're a pig."

"Hey! You're the one who called me looking for phone sex."

"I'm hanging up now."

"But I didn't tell you about Sanders!"

"I'll call someone else."

The harsh sound of a dial tone came as a surprise. "I thought she was bluffing." Sighing, he clicked off the phone and tossed it on the coffee table between his Dukes of Hazzard Box Set and an empty bag of Salsa Verde Doritos. "I guess she's still determined to play hard to get."

---

"It's easy, Stokes." Ecklie took a seat on the edge of his desk. "All you have to do is press charges and Markson is off the force."

"I'm not going to press charges." Shifting uncomfortably in the guest chair, the exhausted CSI cleared his throat.

"It was a hate-based crime, Nick. If he wasn't a cop you would press charges. Are you afraid of retaliation? Trouble on the job?"

"He didn't punch me because I'm gay. He punched because he believed I lied and took advantage of him. He really believes I was coppin' feels and checkin' him out in the shower."

"Were you?" Ecklie asked, his eyes narrowed on the cowboy of his deepest fantasies.

Not expecting the invasive question, Nick fell silent.

"What does silence in the interrogation room mean, Stokes?" Ecklie slid into the chair next to the CSI. "Everyone has fantasies, a secret crush or two. Maybe you feel guilty because you were attracted to Markson."

Remembering Greg's theory that Ecklie was secretly lusting after some Texas ass, Nick shifted away as far as his chair would allow. "It is guilt that's makin' me not press charges, guilt over misrepresenting myself to Markson even if it was because I couldn't be truthful with myself. If I was in his shoes, I'd feel betrayed. I don't like betrayal much myself. It makes me angry too."

"Anger's fine, but he was violent. He crossed the line."

Nick shrugged. "Where I come from, guys tend to settle things with punches, not words. Markson kicked my ass for bein' a liar, then Greg kicked Markson's ass for touching his man. If I don't press charges, Markson will feel things are settled between us. More importantly, if I don't press charges, Greg has the last word. He defended me and he proved that he can kick someone's ass when he needs to. It allows both Markson and Greg to feel like men."

"And what about you, Nick? What will it look like for you?" Puzzled, intrigued and enamored by the man, Ecklie sat waiting for an answer.

"I'll look like one of the boys for letting things be settled and not ruining Markson's career. More importantly, unlike my Bible-thumping sisters, I'll be practicing what I learned in Sunday School – some good 'ol fashion Christian forgiveness. So, bottom line, it's a win-win for everyone, it lets all of us go back to doin' our jobs and it doesn't ruin life for Markson's wife and three kids."

Wishing he could be half the man that Stokes was, Ecklie's admiration doubled. "It's awfully generous of you to be concerned about another man's family."

At peace with his decision, Nick serenely replied, "I'm a family guy."

---

"Stokes let his own brother rot in jail," Jack Markson told his wife as she handed him a fresh ice pack for his broken nose, "so I don't think he's going to do me any favors. I heard he had to get 7 stitches in his head, that's 7 great reasons to want me behind bars." Fear consuming him, the cop clutched his throbbing head. "His father is on the Supreme Court of Texas, so I'm sure a civil suit will follow the criminal charges." Sitting in his favorite recliner, the tough as nails police officer began to cry. "I'm sorry, honey." He couldn't imagine telling his retired police officer father the news. "I'm so sorry."

"It's too late for sorry, Jack." The frantic mother of three paced the living room, obsessively tucking her bobbed blonde hair behind her eyes. "We have two hundred dollars left in our savings account after the Disney trip. We can't afford a good lawyer. We're going to lose our house. We're going to lose everything! How could you do this to us?" She stood in front of her husband crying. "The guy had just saved a fellow officer's life and you decide to beat the crap out of him because you think he pressed his crotch into your ass at the gym? For that I'm going to lose my home? For that your kids aren't going to eat?"

"I don't know why I…" The ring of the house phone startled him. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Like I do?" Tears streaming down her cheeks, the distraught wife walked towards the kitchen to answer the phone.

Alone in the living room, Markson stared at the family photos on the mantle and wished he could rewind the last 24 hours.

"Stokes isn't pressing charges."

"What?" Markson gaped at his wife. "Who…"

"That was your boss, you get to keep your job." Tears of relief poured from her eyes. "You're suspended for two weeks without pay, have to do community service, and take a sensitivity training course."

---

"I'm sorry, Simms." Hodges decided to leave a groveling message on his co-worker's voice mail. "I was joking, but as usual, my jokes weren't very funny." He glanced at his Felix the Cat clock. "It's noon, I'm going to grab some sleep, but if there's anything you need me to check on for you, leave a message on my cell and I'll go in early to handle it. Anyway, that's it. I'll be here if you need me." Ending the call, he dreamily sighed, "Oh how I wish you needed me." When he saw a green light on top of his phone receiver he realized he hadn't disconnected the call and scrambled to cover the admission, "Needed me to um…uh…check on other things for you. So I could make up for being so insensitive earlier. Okay then. Bye."

After making sure the phone was off, he tossed it onto the bed and collapsed against the pillows. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

---

"I thought you were kidding when you said Greg is a genius," Tawny remarked as she sat at the kitchen island reading his published science paper. "But since I can't even say some of the words in the article, I'm guessing you weren't kidding."

"No, dear, I wasn't." Jan carefully removed a blender full of raspberry fruit smoothie and filled three glasses. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Staring at the purple smoothie with a perfect dollop of Cool Whip and a raspberry on top, Tawny smiled. "Greg must have loved growing up with you for a mom. I bet you made toll house cookies for all the neighborhood kids and were the hit of every bake sale."

"My cakes were always the first selected at the school carnival cake walk."

"No doubt."

"But you know what I never got to do that I always wanted to do?" Jan plunked raspberries on two more smoothies. "Be a Girl Scout Leader."

"My mom was one for like two weeks. She sucked at it, because she was always drunk, so the other moms told her they didn't need her help." Taking a sip of smoothie, Tawny said, "My dad took me to the father-daughter dance every year. That was fun. Cassie's still young enough to be a scout, maybe she'll sign up and let you live your dream." Grinning she added, "And maybe I'll pop out a girl baby and you can be a kickass grandma Girl Scout Leader."

"You really think you could be a surrogate, Tawny? You just turned 20, how can be sure?"

After sampling her smoothie, Tawny replied, "I know what it's like to want something really bad and not be able to have it. I know you do too, Jan. Greg told me about his sisters that didn't make it. That's why you're sad about not being a Girl Scout Leader, right?"

"I didn't know he told you about that."

"I was 15 when my dad died and every night I prayed for him to come back. Obviously I wasn't going to get my dad back, but that didn't stop me from asking. Then when my mom's boyfriend started touching me, I prayed for him to go away, but I didn't get that either."

Seeing tears in the girl's eyes, Jan moved around the counter and took a seat next to her.

"Four years ago, when my mom kicked me out, I started praying for a safe home. By 2005, I realized I had to get a little more practical, so I stopped praying and started using my body to find a guy who would pull a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman and rescue me. I really believed a guy would show up at a strip club one night and see me for more than a piece of ass. The best offer I ever got was five grand for two weeks at The Mirage with this five foot tall Japanese businessman who smelled funky and had a foot fetish, but didn't want to have sex. My rent was due, so..." Clutching her smoothie glass, Tawny said, "Last week I was living in a studio apartment wondering what or who I'd have to do to pay my bills and look at me now…I'm living in a safe house with a great family. It feels like I won the lottery."

"Oh, honey." She handed over a napkin and took one for herself.

"Apparently God had a really big prayer backlog, but you guys were worth the wait." Wiping her tears in sync with Jan, she shared, "My mom said I'd never amount to anything, that I was nothing but a worthless tramp. She said I would never do anything good or important in my entire life. Until now, she's been right, but everything's about to change. I'm going to have two babies and get a college degree. I'm going to make you, Mr. S, Greg, and Nick happy, like you deserve to be. Then I'm going to use the college degree to make something of myself. When all is said and done, I'm gonna buy a real classy business suit and fly to Kansas. The next morning, I'm gonna track down that nasty bitch to say 'you were wrong about me, Mama. Go to hell.'."

"That's the stuff country songs are made of," Nick remarked from his position in the doorway.

"Nicky." Jan burst into a smile. "How did you get in?"

"Dave's out front waitin' on the girls to get back from the mailbox, so he let me in. He told me Greg's gonna be sleepin' for hours."

"Yeah, he downed 10mg of Valium on an empty stomach, so I don't expect to see him up and about until at least 6pm." Jan jumped into motherly action. "Have a seat, I'll make you a snack. I have the blender out, would you like a protein shake?"

"That'd be great, yeah."

"How's your head?"

"It's still numb from the stuff they injected me with to get the stitches. I have pain meds for later if it hurts." Feeling bad for intruding, he said, "Sorry for eavesdroppin', Tawny, but I didn't want to interrupt and I couldn't walk away mid-story."

"Don't sweat it," she replied after blowing her nose for the third time. "If I'm going to let you shoot me up with sperm in the future, I think it's safe to say I'm comfortable around you."

"I guess so, yeah." Chuckling, Nick took a seat at the counter. "We did a real thorough background check on you, but isn't it a little scary just puttin' your trust in all of us?"

Pushing her long blonde hair behind her ears, Tawny giggled, "Yeah, I kind of panicked a little at first. I thought maybe you guys were devil worshippers bringing me here to be some kind of sacrifice, but then I looked up devil worship on the Internet and read that the sacrificed girls have to be virgins, so I knew I was safe."

After laughing with her, Nick said, "Actually, you do look really young and innocent now."

Jan proudly informed her future son-in-law, "I chiseled off her makeup, took her to be declawed at my nail salon, and then we went shopping for some slightly more modest clothing."

Grinning, Tawny glanced over at Nick. "In other words, she de-slutified me."

The joyous screams of a young girl tearing through the house made everyone in the kitchen jump.

"I won! I won! I won!" Cassie shrieked as she raced into the kitchen waving an envelope and a piece of paper. "I won!" When she saw Nick sitting in front of her, she couldn't believe her luck. "I won!"

"Won what, sweetie?" Nick loved the look of pure joy in the girl's eyes.

"My hero essay! The one I wrote about you!" She grabbed his hand and yanked him off the stool. "I won! I get to read it out loud and then give you a medal in front of the governor! Look!" She handed him the letter. "See!"

Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Jan rushed over to read it for herself. "She really won."

"Cool beans, little sis." Tawny gave a thumbs up. "Way to go."

Nick picked her up in his arms, squeezing her tight. "I'm so honored that you wrote about me, honey."

Grinning wide, Jan asked Nick and Cassie, "Now that you've won the Hero Essay Contest, what are you going to do?"

---

"I've never been to Disneyland." Curled up in bed with her husband, Sara was listing the things she never had the time or opportunity to do. "My parents only liked to vacation where there was lots of cheap booze."

"My father took me to Disneyland twice a year, on my birthday and on father's day." Mindlessly stroking his wife's hair, Gil said, "My mom offered to take me the year after he died, but I said I didn't want to go, and I never went back. Frontierland was my favorite part of the park. I loved westerns and I vividly remember begging my father for a coonskin cap on our last trip there."

"No surprise there." Sara's lips curved into a smile. "You have eclectic taste when it comes to hats. Did he buy it for you?"

"No, because he had already bought me a bow and arrow set. He told me to ask Santa for it. I ended up asking for a microscope instead."

"Sold out your cowboy dreams to be a geek?"

"Yes." Gil snuggled closer. "Nick seems to balance the two pretty well, maybe I should have tried."

"Maybe you should start a list of things you've never done."

"And then we can compare the two and do all things mutual."

"I like that idea," she whispered in the candlelit room.

"Are you okay, Sara?" He had been afraid to ask.

"Not yet." She closed her eyes and burrowed into her loving husband's chest. "But I will be."

"I was afraid you were going to walk away today and not look back."

"I thought about doing that," she confessed, "but then I realized running wouldn't solve anything. The problems I have, the ghosts that haunt me…I realized I can deal with them here, and when I need a break from dealing with them, the best part is, I can curl up in the arms of the only person who has ever truly loved me, and get some rest."

---

"You've been sleeping for ten hours," Nick whispered when he finally saw his partner's eyes pop open.

"Where am I?" Greg rubbed his eyes and glanced around.

"Your parents' bed."

"Right, right."

"I came up here to bring you home, but you weren't budging, so your mom told me to sleep here. She's makin' dinner for us."

After clearing the sleep from his voice with a couple of coughs, Greg reached out and touched his lover's bandaged forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm great." Nick leaned in for a kiss. "Thanks to you. If you didn't take down Markson when you did, who knows how beat up I'd be. Thanks for protectin' me."

"I protected you," Greg half stated, half questioned.

With a steady gaze, Nick assured his often skeptical partner, "Yeah, Slugger, you did."

"I didn't think I had it in me."

Lips grazing, the grateful lover answered, "I knew you did."

"Dinner's ready!" Tawny cheerily announced from the doorway. "Jan sent me to get you guys. Or should I say, chow's on, Tex! Come and git it!"

Greg threw a pillow in her direction. "We were having a moment!" He laughed, "Tex was bringin' the romance! I was totally swooning."

"Save all your swoonin' for Saturday, G." Nick sat up. "I'm starving."

"We need to get one of these sleep number beds, Cletus." Greg didn't budge. "It's so comfortable."

"Ooh! I've always wanted to try one of those." Tawny bounded over and jumped on the king-size bed. "I hear they cost mega bucks."

"That side is a 70," Greg pointed, "this side is 30."

"This is way too hard for me," Tawny remarked after trying the 70 side. "Move over Nick."

"This is…odd." Nick laughed and scooted over to let her by. "I told you we have a no threesomes rule, but as long as no one takes their clothes off, I guess we're okay."

"Too soft." She gravitated back to the middle. "When we go for it in six months or a year, how are we going to do it?"

Greg immediately reminded her, "We haven't agreed to go for it, Tawny."

"I passed all the medical tests with flying colors."

"When did you have medical tests?" Nick queried, feeling like he had stepped into the Twilight Zone.

"Jan took me to the doctor and paid to have everything expedited. Let's hear it for a relatively drug-free lifestyle and protected sex! I was clean as whistle."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I guess she didn't think we needed to be consulted. Unbelievable."

"Okay, okay, let's talk hypothetically," Tawny said, fully believing it would really happen. "How would we do it since sex is off the table?"

"It's easy," the DNA expert replied, "Nick and I make deposits in a jar, then we load a syringe and give it to you to do the honors."

Nick added, "It's real important that she lay with her hips on pillow and stay like that for an hour." When Greg shot him a look, he confessed, "Okay, yeah, I looked it up one day when you were busy workin' on your book. The website I checked said that the woman getting inseminated shouldn't be the one doin' it though. It has to be done at the right angle and extremely slow. The little guys are real fragile."

"I'm sure Jan would volunteer to do the honors," Greg droned.

"That's gross, G. Your mom can't do it." Propping up on his elbow to face Tawny and Greg, Nick confessed, "Honestly, if it wouldn't too weird for you, Tawny, I would kinda like to do it. I just think it be almost like I was…"

"In there?" Greg cracked up. "Haven't you been inside enough girls in your lifetime, Romeo?"

"Shut up." Nick threw a pillow at the jokester. "You know what I meant! It would be like I was there at the moment of conception. Don't you want to be there?"

With a mischievous grin, Greg nodded. "Before I met you, I can safely say I would have wanted to be there as much and as often as possible."

"You guys are hilarious." Tawny simultaneously patted their thighs. "I just spent the last two years letting total strangers see my body for cash. Trust me, I'm not shy. I can handle both of you being there. You can each do half a syringe. And since I have to hang out for an hour, maybe while the little swimmers are battling upstream, we can watch a movie together."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Nick tried not to show his discomfort or anticipation.

"What would we watch?" Greg asked, chuckling. "It has to be something good, because if we're going to tell the kid the story one day, we don't want to say we watched Dodgeball or soft core."

"The Wizard of Oz!" Tawny clapped her hands. "It's the ultimate family movie. It was the first movie I watched with my dad."

"Yeah," Greg nodded, "and I heard Dorothy ended up being a surrogate for the Tin Man and The Scarecrow, so it's poignant. They didn't use a syringe though. They got drunk and did it the old fashioned way. The lion videotaped the whole thing and put it up on YouTube."

"Hey!" Nick shot a warning glance. "I watched that movie with my grandpa. Don't you dare dirty it up for me, G."

"Hey, I watched it with my grandpa too." Greg stopped joking and got nostalgic.

Nick told the 20 year old, "Tawny, you're too young to remember this, but before VCRs were in every home, the Wizard of Oz only played on TV once a year."

"Yeah," Greg jubilantly shared, "my Papa Olaf would make a huge bowl of popcorn and we'd have a campout in the family room."

"See, it's perfect. It's a movie that's sentimental for all of us." Tawny slipped one hand in Nick's and the other in Greg's. "We'll hold hands and watch The Wizard of Oz, and by the time the movie's done, there will be a Stokes or Sanders bun cooking in my oven."

The sweetly crazy idea was a little much for a newly outted boy from the ranch. "What do you think about that plan, G?"

"Uh…" Staring at the ceiling and into the future, Greg whimsically asked, "How does 2009 work for everyone?" After saying it out loud, he panicked. "December 2009." He took a deep breath and really thought about the statement. "You know hamsters are fun too."

***

Chapter 28: Who Loves You?

"What the hell are you singin' in the shower, G?" Standing in the master bathroom, Nick stopped sipping coffee to laugh his ass off at his partner.

"Tonight! Tonight! Won't be just any night…"

"I'll give you props for coming up with the lyrics."

"Dude!" Greg opened the shower door an inch. "I'm not making this up, it's a classic from West Side Story."

"Never seen it."

"Seriously?"

"If I watched musicals growin' up, people woulda called me queer."

"Talk about delaying the inevitable." Tense from the anticipation of his mystery date, Greg snapped the shower door shut. "At least I sing for you. You only sing for Mandy or when you're alone."

"I only sing for Mandy when I need test results ASAP, and I don't sing in front of you because my voice sucks."

"That's not what Mannnndy says. She swoons when you sing to her. Be honest, how many women have you won over with a song, Cletus? Three, four dozen?"

"I'll sing to you on our wedding night, G, that'll be our somethin' new."

"Not a country song."

"Aww, and I was all excited to croon Stars Over Texas for ya. That's what I always imagined usin' for my wedding song." Grinning behind his coffee cup, Nick said, "Why haven't you asked me to join you in the shower?" He chuckled, "Are you doin' somethin' special for our big date?"

"Nope. I already did that at the salon."

After choking on his coffee, the concerned lover asked, "Don't tell me you listened to Roy and got one of those sadistic sac n' crack waxes." When the shower door flew open, he jumped back, spilling his coffee.

"Roy told me you got one for our big date, so I did!" From the look on his partner's face, Greg knew he had been misled. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt?"

"I don't even want to imagine it, no, but I wanna see the results." Dying of curiosity, Nick lurched forward, but his lover retreated and slammed the door before he got there. "I wanna see!"

"No!" While holding the door shut, Greg sang his reply, "Tonight! Tonight! You'll see my bod tonight! Right after I kill your cousin Roy!"

"Now I know why you've been holding out on me for days."

"No, I wanted to abstain from everything to make our date night extra hot. I think we should go without anything for two weeks before the honeymoon."

"I'll have to move out if you want me to keep my hands off you for two weeks."

"When you say it like that, one week sounds long enough."

"Seriously, how bad was the waxing?" Nick asked, afraid to even imagine the extent of the torture.

"Pluck one hair from your arm and multiple that pain by – oh – I don't know – infinity!"

Grinning, Nick knocked on the shower door. "I'm off to get things ready for the big date. See ya later, balllllldy."

"If you call and I'm not here, I'm dissolving Roy's body in acid in the high desert."

"I think you'll forgive him by the stroke of midnight."

"I'll have to take your word for it," Greg huffed.

"I'll bet my half of the house on it. Oh, and here's a preview of our date and my singing voice." Nick strolled out of the room badly crooning at the top of his lungs, "Thank God I'm a country boy! Yee haw!"

While staring at his hairless junk, Greg muttered, "I can honestly say I'd rather have my nuts waxed than two-step, but that's what I get for fallin' for a redneck."

---

"This is what I get for loving a man having a mid-life crisis." Locked in the bathroom staring at an unopened pregnancy test, Sara desperately tried to work up enough courage to tear open the box.

Two weeks ago, when she was in the hospital staring into her husband's disappointed eyes, she decided to give him something she wasn't sure she wanted. Knowing he would never leave her, and believing he wanted a child, she went against her better judgment and consented to create a baby together. A week later she did a one-eighty, but after feeling some odd sensations this morning, she suspected her change of heart came too late.

Since Grissom was at the Lab with Warrick, working the backlog her abrupt departure had created, she knew she had hours to delay the inevitable. It made no sense to put it off, but she took a seat on the bathroom floor to continue her staring contest with the box.

---

"Have you spoken with Sara?" Catherine asked as she walked into The Tangiers with Nick. "She's not returning my calls."

"Mine either." Nick sighed, "Greg's takin' it the hardest. I was real surprised she wouldn't even talk to him."

"Gil told me she knows we're thinking about her."

Remembering how he didn't want to talk for a while after his trauma, Nick said, "When she's ready to talk to us, she will."

"Oh God, here comes my mother." Catherine pointed down the hall. "What the hell is she wearing?"

---

"Your threads for this evening, Mr. Sanders." Edward, a British limo driver and close friend of Lily Flynn, smiled as he stood in the doorway and presented a large white box tied with a gold ribbon.

"My threads? Cool!" The 60's buff loved hearing 'threads' instead of clothes. "Thanks, Daddy-O."

"Mr. Stokes requested that you read the card before opening the box."

Greg chuckled, "Mr. Stokes knows I'm an impulsive boy."

"I'll return at 11:30 pm to drive you to your destination."

"Ninety minutes?" Greg couldn't imagine waiting ninety seconds longer. "No way."

Smirking, Edward regally replied, "Haven't you heard…good things come to those who wait."

---

After staring at the pregnancy test box for the better part of an hour, Sara grasped it with a shaky hand. Open it. Come on, open it.

Too excited to follow instructions, Greg flipped open the giant box. "Ha!" A note taped to the gold tissue paper read 'Didn't your Mama teach you to open the card first?'

Ripping the paper, he laughed an apology, "Sorry, but my fear of cowboy boots is making me..."

The sight of a vintage 60's dark teal sharkskin suit, matching narrow silk tie, and a crisp white shirt took his breath away.

After a second deep breath in, Sara tore open the test box and started wishing for something that she had never in her life wished for…to fail a test.

"I'm such a dope." A smile spread over Greg's face as he ran his fingertips over the shiny lapels of the suit. "I never saw this coming." He realized now that Catherine's supposed 'slip' about line dancing on Friday had been a red herring. I bet he asked Cath to help him find this, that's why she's in on it. But where are we going? His excitement mounting, he lunged for the card.

Hey genius –

Did you really think I'd take you country dancing when I want to prove how much I love you? Duh.

I know you think I tune you out on occasion and you'd be right – like when I'm lounging on the couch watching Sports Center and you're bouncing off the walls around me. But it has nothing to do with me not loving you. Time and place, dude. Time and place. I switched teams, I didn't give up sports.

I know you believe I've denied you things you really want and you'd be right about that too. Sometimes it's because I feel silly doing it, or because I'm nervous. I've come a long way in a very short time, but you gotta remember, I'm still wading through uncharted waters every day. We also both know that sometimes I deny you, because you need to be told no.

I know I've hurt you more than once, but it's never been intentional. I'm sorry just the same. Tonight's all about me proving that no matter what I've done or how I've hurt you, I love you with all my heart. I'm gonna show you that I've been listening to you and loving you every step of the way. I'm jumping out of my comfort zone for you – way out. I'm going to give you the things you've asked for and surprise you with things you've only fantasized about. And no, I have NEVER done even 10 percent as much for a girl. And I think we both know I'm not doing any of this to get laid, because you're a sure thing, my little perv.

You may swoon tonight, you may laugh your ass off at me – I'm hoping for both actually. So put on that suit and be ready at 11:30pm for the date of your life. I'm taking you somewhere that you've been a thousand times – in your mind. 'Oh What a Night' I have planned. The whole time I'll be thinking 'I Can't Take My Eyes off You'.

'Who Loves You'?

"You do," Greg whispered as he carefully returned the card to its envelope. But Jersey Boys isn't coming back here until August. With three Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons songs mentioned at the end of the letter, he guessed they would be seeing a Vegas impersonation act. He knew there were several casino lounges with impersonators of the group who attracted old timers to the dance floor.

Grabbing the suit box, Greg darted for the stairs singing one of his favorite Four Seasons songs at the top of his lungs, "Who loves you, pretty baby?"

---

"I think I'm in love," Catherine sighed as she stood in the middle of her favorite VIP suite at the Tangiers fixing her friend's bow tie. "You really wear a vintage tux well, Nicky. Are you sure you're gay? Have you had any doubts since…"

"Yeah, I've had doubts. The first few days after talking to Greg about it, I was real skeptical. I thought maybe it was just the need for companionship with someone who really understood me."

While straightening his jacket lapels, she asked, "What changed your mind?"

"Sorry," he winked, "I don't have the hottest sex of my life and tell."

"Ah." Laughing, she reached for the champagne bottle they were splitting while Roy and Lily took care of last minute details. "What's the appeal? Less talking?"

"Less talking? Hell, not with Greg in bed." Nick raised his glass of bubbly. "I can't thank you enough for helpin' me pull this off."

"Hey, I did the least. My mother and your cousin are the real heroes." Catherine snickered into her glass. "In the last week, my mother officially became the oldest Fag Hag on the planet. This morning she actually said she'll miss hanging around 'her gays' next week. She's the geriatric version of Kathy Griffin."

"If your mother wasn't independently wealthy, I'd say she and Roy should open a business together, because what they managed to pull together in a week is blowin' my mind." Noticing the time, he tapped his watch. "You better head downstairs and tell your mom it's time."

---

"Three minutes," Sara breathed out after setting the test stick on the bathroom counter. Three minutes. She knew it would be the longest three minutes of her life.

---

Time was standing still for Greg as he wandered the house. "Come on Edward, get your polite British ass back here!"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doorbell rang. "Yes!" He plunked his glass on the kitchen counter and ran for door, sliding the last ten feet to the knob. "It's about time, you…Lily?" The sight of his friend dressed to the nines in outrageous 60's wear threw him for a loop.

"Were you expecting someone else?" she teased, slipping her arm around the young man's. "Come with me, honey."

"Uh…okay." Greg shut the door behind him and let Lily escort him to a vintage car. "Where is the car taking us?" He smiled at Edward who was holding open the back door.

"That isn't a car, sweetie." Lily gave a hint, "It's a time machine."

Nick's written words echoed in Greg's mind 'I'm taking you somewhere you've been a thousand times.' "The 1960s," he guessed out loud. "Is that where we're going?"

"We're already there." Once they were inside the car, Lily picked up two martini glasses. "Here are you are, Mr. Sanders." Playing her part she presented a drink to her excited and confused guest. "It's not every day that a VIP at The Rampart invites a new arrival to one of his private parties, but when you were in The Coconut Lounge last night, you must have done something to catch Mr. Stokes's eye. When Sam asked if there was anything he could do to make his stay at The Rampart more enjoyable, Nick replied – see the guy in the cheap suit ordering a drink in the lounge? I think he would make my stay significantly more enjoyable'."

Recalling the pictures of The Coconut Lounge when it opened in 1965, Greg slipped right into the fantasy. "But all I did was order a dirty martini and drink it leaning against a palm tree."

She gave a naughty smirk. "Well…maybe it was the way you handled the stem of the glass or how smoothly you swallowed its contents."

Like mother like daughter. "You are a naughty little minx, Ms. Flynn."

"You don't know the half of it." She sipped her cocktail with flair.

Keeping things real for 1965, Greg said, "I didn't think Sam Braun and his cronies would be interested in indulging such an unconventional request. Guys like me, and apparently Mr. Stokes, usually aren't welcome by tough guys."

"Money is all that matters in this town, Mr. Sanders. When a high roller wants to be indulged, Sam doesn't care what the man's vice is, he indulges him to the fullest extent with the utmost discretion."

"I see." This is so much better than line dancing! He was almost too excited to stay in character. "I wonder where the night will lead."

"When you're invited to The Rampart as a special guest, there's only one kind of night to be had, Mr. Sanders." Wearing her classic showgirl smile, Lily raised her glass, "A very memorable one."

"Okay then." Skyrocketing to Cloud 9, Greg tapped his glass to Lily's. "To a very memorable night."

---

"You realize your weddin' night's gonna be a let down after this." Standing in the lush marble bathroom of the VIP suite, Roy handed his cousin a jar of pomade.

"No shit." Nick snatched the jar with a shaky hand. "You and Lily took my idea and kicked it up ten notches. I'm freakin' out here!"

"Breathe, Cousin, breathe."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one puttin' himself in the spotlight."

"Clearly we didn't do enough shots yet." Roy handed over a full shot glass. "The goal is to be sober enough to do what you gotta do, but drunk enough to have the guts to do it."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Spoken like the wise twenty year old that you are."

"I'm 22 according to my ID."

"Shut up about your fake ID, when I'm LVPD."

Roy scoffed at his preachy cousin. "Like you didn't have a fake ID when you were 17 and makin' monthly visits to see your sister and her friends at college."

"No comment." After downing the shot in a gulp, Nick slammed the glass on the marble counter. "Greg would have been thrilled with much less than this."

"Yeah, but we're Texans, we do everything big. Cowboy up, Stokes!" Roy squeezed his cousin's shoulders to relieve tension. "And let's be serious, this mega date can't be more stressful than playin' in a bowl game."

"I'd be way more comfortable on the field, man. A year ago I couldn't even step foot in a gay club or stand next to a drag queen without freakin' out. This is a huge deal for me."

"Cuz…" Roy shook his head, "all this bitchin' is killin' that hero vibe from earlier in the week."

"Sorry." Nick quit yammering and refilled his shot glass.

"Hey, would you be crushed if I got my degree in Hotel and Hospitality Management instead of Chemistry?" Buzzing with excitement, Roy explained, "I've honestly never enjoyed anything as much as pulling this night together and working in this hotel all week."

"If working in the Lab isn't your thing, I'd rather have you find out now than after you graduate college with a Chemistry degree. Not everybody can handle the monotony of Lab work, and after livin' with you for a little while, I've had my suspicions that it wasn't a good choice for you." Nick twisted open the jar of pomade. "I'll support whatever you want to do as long as long as it's legal, you do it well, and it pays your bills."

"Cool! I'm going to switch my major on Monday." Roy cautioned, "Easy on the gel, Cuz. You're not a greaser, you're a high rollin' VIP."

---

"The secret kitchen entrance? No way!" Greg exclaimed with the enthusiasm of a giddy little boy. "With bodyguards? I feel like Jimmy 'Big Mouth' Malone!"

You're as loud as him too. Lily patted Greg's arm and whispered, "Try to play it cool, honey. You're supposed to be a decked out hep cat, not a spaz."

"Right, right." He sucked in some air. "Are we taking the private elevator to a tricked out VIP suite?" Walking with his entourage he hurried by the curious kitchen staff, feeling like a celebrity. "This is how they used to sneak The Rat Pack into The Sands."

Lily snickered, "It's also how they used to sneak the girls out when someone's wife showed up unexpectedly."

"Right this way, Mr. Sanders." Hugo, the largest of the burly bodyguards opened a secret door and radioed, "The Special Delivery is in the corridor."

Lily opened her gold bag and popped open a tin of breath mints. "Here you go, honey."

"Thanks." He took two and crunched to burn some nervous energy. "Where does this hall lead to?"

"The private party room."

Remembering a phrase that Lily had shared with him during one of their meetings, Greg snickered, "The private party room…where the girls were wild and the men were wilder."

"That's right." When they stopped in front of the gilded double doors, Lily planted a kiss on her youngest friend's cheek. "You're on your own now, kid, this is the end of the line for me." She winked, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

From the risqué stories his book consultant had shared during their dinner meetings, Greg knew his options were wide open. "I promise."

Thinking of Sam, Lily cracked a bittersweet smile, "Take my word for it when I say…any guy who puts forth this much effort to show someone a good time is a keeper." She waved as she walked backwards. "1965 was one hell of a year." It was the code for the bodyguards to open the double doors.

"I bet it…" Greg whirled around and saw a Tangiers party room had been turned into The Rampart Secret Room down to the last detail including white and gold linen tables, a bar, palm trees, a stage, a band, and a roomful of…." He looked closer. Gay boys and drag queens perfectly outfitted in vintage wear. "I don't believe this."

The Tangiers' Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons impersonators started with 'Who Loves You' just as they had been directed.

"I thought he was taking me to an old fart's lounge to hear 60's music," Greg excitedly told Hugo, "holy shit!" He gripped his hair in disbelief. "This is all for me?"

"It sure as hell isn't for me," Hugo replied, before remembering he was getting paid extra not to crack gay jokes. "How about you go inside so we can shut the doors and stand guard like we're supposed to?"

Mesmerized by the music and staggering disbelief that Nick had put this together and pulled it off, Greg entered the room in a zombie state. "I even smell coconut in the air." Overwhelmed, he took in the sights and sounds of the 60's, and let his senses transport him back in time. "It's like I'm really there."

Roy gave the signal for the dancers to part like the Red Sea and slowly make way for the guest of honor.

"This is like being in a movie!" Greg couldn't believe there was staging on top of décor. Where did he find all the queers? When he saw Roy grinning on the edge of the dance floor, he figured out that the guy who had tapped into the entire Vegas gay scene within 48 hours of arriving in town had probably been assigned the task of rounding up hot gay boys and drag queens. Nick's right, I totally forgive you about the waxing, Roy.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sanders." Tom, a 36 year old waiter/unemployed actor playing the part of the party manager, motioned for the guest of honor to follow him. "Mr. Stokes has invited you to share his table tonight."

"Where is Mr. Stokes?" Greg queried, dying to see his soul mate.

"He's attending to some important business and is expected to arrive shortly." Tom pulled out the man's chair. "What would you like from the bar while you wait?"

Taking a seat and reveling in the fantasy, Greg beamed a smile at the man. "A dirty martini would be great, thanks."

Once he saw the guest of honor was seated, Faux Frankie Valli began singing directly to him as rehearsed. "Who loves ya, pretty baby? Who's gonna help you through the night? Who loves you, Mr. Sanders? Who's always there to make things right?"

Greg forced himself to play it cool. Holy shit! This is awesome! It was so phenomenal, that the history buff didn't even care that The Four Seasons were singing a song in 1965 that they didn't record until 1975.

"Who's gonna love you, love you? Who's gonna love you…"

When Greg saw the four singers slide to the side and heard the band transition into the instrumental lead-in for 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', his hand flew to his mouth. No, he is not going to…oh my god he is!

After slipping through a side door, Nick climbed the three steps onto the stage. I can't believe I'm gonna do this. With a stomach full of butterflies, he grabbed the microphone and leapt fifty miles outside of his comfort zone. "You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you."

"Yessssssss!" Greg cheered, thrilled to finally be on the receiving end of a real song.

Hearing his partner's excitement, Nick worked up the nerve to actually make the eye contact he was singing about. "You'd be like heaven to touch." Seeing Greg's happiness was all it took to loosen up. "I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you."

"I have my own personal rock star," Greg announced as he accepted the martini glass the bartender was offering him. "Thanks, Jeeves." Like a player, he tucked a twenty in the man's pocket. "In 1965 that was a great tip."

Roy motioned for Nick to start walking down the stairs like they had rehearsed.

Pulling the microphone off its stand, Nick continued with renewed strength, "Pardon the way that I stare. There's nothing else to compare." He started down the stairs. "The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak."

"Sing it, baby!" Greg, along with the crowd of strangers, cheered on his man and the band. "I'm swooning! I'm definitely swooning!"

Watching a smile explode on Greg's face, Nick's courage doubled and he belted out the chorus, "I love you, baby! And if it's quite alright, I need you baby…to warm the lonely night, I love you baby." He stood directly in front of his partner and went for it. "Oh pretty baby! Don't bring me down I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I found you…stay…stay and let me love you, baby, let me love you…" As rehearsed, he handed off the microphone to Roy who whizzed by right on cue. "Feel like dancin'?" He reached for Greg's hand. "It's a rhetorical question."

Greg leapt from his chair as the Faux Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons took over the song. "I'd love to dance with you." Still shaking from the shock of it all, he cupped Nick's face. "I'll do anything with you, for you, to you. I can't believe you did all this for me."

"I can't take all the credit," Nick admitted, whisking his partner to the center of the dance floor so they could hide among the other couples. "I came up with the theme and the songs, but then Roy, Lily and Catherine went nuts and somehow 50 people ended up on the date with us." Leading a gentle sway, he realized it was their first dance. "I love ya, G." He choked up when he saw tears in Greg's eyes. "I wanted to do something to show you how much."

"Mission accomplished." Greg spoke directly into his lover's ear, "This is without a doubt, the most spectacular thing anyone has ever done for me."

"That means you've been underappreciated for far too long." Grabbing his partner by the tie, Nick returned to his character - a lovestruck tough guy. "Now shut up and kiss me like nobody's watchin'."

---

"They're gonna smooch!" Catherine yelled to her mother, who was fixing herself a cocktail at Sam's old office bar. "I told Nicky the security desk didn't monitor the private party room."

"They don't," Lilly confirmed.

"Yeah, but I neglected to tell him that it could be monitored from Sam's old office." Enjoying the show, Catherine reclined in her father's old chair. "I figure there's no way he can get pissed at me after we gave him a tricked out party room and a VIP suite."

"You are your father's daughter." Grinning, Lily handed over a flute of champagne. "Let's toast the old man, shall we?"

Catherine alternately lifted and lowered her glass, "Wherever you are, Dad. I know you're having a blast."

---

When Nick left to use the restroom, Greg egged on the trio of drag queens belting out their take on Frankie Valli's 'Big Girls Don't Cry'. "Sing it ladies!"

"Are you having a good time, Sir?" the head waiter asked, while refilling the guest of honor's champagne flute.

Greg raised his glass. "Time of my life, Jeeves."

---

"Great party, Mr. Stokes." Jesse, one of the dancers, held open the men's room door for his host.

"Thanks." Nick returned the young man's smile before continuing inside. Holyshit. There were two couples getting friendly in every corner and both stalls were occupied by at least two people. I think he was talkin' about the party in here, not the one out there. Needing to pee like a racehorse, he blocked everything and headed for urinals.

"Hey," Carlos, a 21 year old perfectly sculpted showboy, smiled at the big spender who was bankrolling the event. "I'll party with you anytime."

Just as Nick was about to relieve himself, he realized he had never peed in a room full of gay guys. Oh shit, he's not zippin' up. A nasty case of stage fright reared its ugly head. I hope he doesn't think I'm not peeing because I'm interested in something else. As the guy inched closer, Nick blurted, "Sorry for any confusion, but…no thanks, man."

"Nick?" Roy called out when he hear his cousin's panicky voice.

"Roy?" Nick glanced around, but didn't see his cousin until one of the stalls quickly opened and shut. "What the…"

"Hold that thought." Roy escorted his cousin into the hall. "Why aren't you using the VIP bathroom?"

"There was a bunch of drag queens in it." Nick whispered, "They make me nervous." He pointed to the men's room. "So did that. And what the hell were you doin' in a stall with two other guys?"

"Playing monopoly," the party boy rolled his eyes. "Come on. I know you love Greg, but you're not blind. I filled this place with every showboy wannabe, studly unemployed actor, desperate model and all-around hottie that I could find. They're all working the party for a free meal, two drinks, and a Tangiers gig on their resumes. I'm their boss for the night, but I'm working for free." He chuckled, "Lucky for me, certain perks go along with being the guy in charge."

---

"I'm done, boss," Warrick announced, standing in his boss's door.

"Already?"

"It's almost two am."

Worried about the backlog, Grissom pushed, "Are you maxed out on OT?"

"No, I got someplace to be."

"Two hours ago you said you had nothing to do and wanted to work a full shift."

His frustration building, Warrick snipped, "I know what I said, but…look, I was planning on staying, but I realized I have something else I need to do."

---

"Sorry," Nick apologized as he returned to the VIP table. Placing his hands on Greg's shoulders, he spoke over the band. "The bathrooms were packed, so I had to take a hike to take a leak."

Realizing there were only fifteen minutes left to the party, Greg jumped to his feet and grabbed Nick's hand. "Hey, Frankie!" He shouted to the lead singer, "I don't care if it's from 1978, I want to hear Oh What a Night!"

"You got it, Mr. Sanders." Faux Frankie huddled with his band to get set.

"I didn't think to look up the years of the songs." The perfectionist couldn't believe he hadn't thought of being historically accurate with the music. "I messed up, didn't I?"

"Are you kidding?" Greg laughed at the statement. "Tonight couldn't be any more perfect. Who gives a shit about musical timelines, you threw me a theme party! That's like a hundred notches above making me a mix tape."

"I made mix tapes for girls," Nick laughed.

"Come on, I want one fast and one slow dance before the party's over."

---

"Ten more minutes, boys." Alone in her father's old office, Catherine emptied the last of the champagne into her flute and returned to the black leather couch. "Even my own mother ditches me on Saturday night. It doesn't get more pathetic than that."

Since Lindsay was sleeping over at a friend's house, she planned on crashing at the hotel. Maybe there's a billionaire hunk playing craps downstairs who is dying to find a forty-something red head instead of a twenty-something blonde bimbo. Yeah, and tomorrow the crime rate will drop to zero and Ecklie will grow hair. Watching her friends having the time of their life, she groaned into her bubbly, "God, my life sucks."

Just as her self-loathing was reaching its peak, a rude knock on the door interrupted. "I don't need anything, thanks!"

"I need something," a deep voice replied through the crack in the door.

Catherine rose to her feet muttering, "Now I know I've had too much to drink." But when she opened the door, it really was Warrick standing there. "You…" Her anger surged. "You need something? Whatever it is, it can wait until you see me at work on Monday. How did you know I was here anyway?"

"I'd tell ya, but I wouldn't want you to be pissed at Nick." He pointed into the room. "Can I…"

"No." Catherine postured, "Whatever it is you can say it from where you're standing."

With every inch of him screaming to retreat, he forced his feet to stay planted and said, "I need to tell you I'm sorry, that I made a mistake." He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes. "I need you."

---

"Need some help?" Hodges casually asked the woman of his dreams when he saw her toiling in the layout room. "Looks like you have six more bags to…"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're worried." He pointed at her face. "I'm an observant guy, Simms. You wrinkle your nose when you're stumped."

"Ugh." Snapping off her latex gloves, Wendy barked, "I don't need you making fun of me while I'm trying to pass my first CSI proficiency! I'm working through my weekend off to get this done, it's that important to me."

"I'm…"

"Admit it, you want me to fail."

"I want you to fail," he responded without missing a beat.

"Bastard!" She threw her gloves in the direction of the trash and marched for the door. "I can't believe you want me to fail!" Halfway out the door, she screamed, "What have I ever done to you to make you want me to fail?" Releasing the door, she marched for the break room and a fresh cup of coffee.

"Hey," Bobby D hurried to catch up to his co-worker. "I heard you yellin'. What's wrong?"

"Hodges!" Happy to see a friendly face, she vented, "He admitted he wants me to fail my CSI proficiency. He said it to my face." Huffing over to the coffee pot, she grumbled, "His arrogance has no bounds."

"You really think it's arrogance that made him say that?" Smiling, Bobby reached for the pot and poured a cup for his shaken co-worker.

"Why do you think she said it?" She took the cup in her hand. "Overall evilness? Sociopathic tendencies?"

"No, ma'am." Chuckling, he filled a cup for himself. "I'm not a CSI, but I've been here long enough to pick up on how they think."

"Hodges isn't a CSI."

"Let me finish now." He slipped closer. "When you become a CSI, you can't jump to obvious conclusions like you did just now. You need to step back, consider all the evidence, and analyze what it all means. You need to see the forest, not the trees, Simms. Do that and you'll be a great CSI."

"I've been working fourteen hours, Yoda, I don't know what you're trying to say, but…"

"Here's what we know. Hodges doesn't want you to pass your proficiencies. If you pass your proficiencies you'll become a CSI and work in the field. Field work can be very dangerous, look at what's happened to Greg, Nick, and Sara. Hell, Nick almost died six days ago. Now re-ask yourself the question – why does Hodges really want you to fail?" Bobby lifted his mug. "Seein' the forest yet, Simms? He doesn't want you to be in danger, because he's crazy about you."

"How…"

"The way he looks at you when you don't know he's lookin'."

---

"My eyes adored you," Nick sang into his lover's ear as they danced to the last song of the night. "Though I never laid a hand on you, my eyes adored you."

His eyes closed, Greg swayed in his partner's arms, fulfilling the prom moment he always wanted but never had.

"Like a million miles away from me you couldn't see how I adored you. So close, so close and yet so far."

"Story of our first seven years." Opening his eyes, Greg gushed a grateful smile. "But you were so worth the wait."

"The feeling's mutual."

Taking in the atmosphere one last time, Greg sighed, "It's gonna be hard going back to reality in a few minutes when this is over."

"Who said it was over?" With the confidence of a high roller, Nick plucked a VIP access card from his tux and tucked it into Greg's jacket pocket. "Suite 4. Be there in exactly ten minutes."

"And if I'm not?" Greg replied, suavely returning to his role.

"You will be."

Watching Nick confidently stroll off the dance floor and out of the room, it took all of Greg's willpower not to chase him down.

---

Rushing down the hall after his ex-lover, Warrick pleaded, "Five minutes. Just hear me out!"

"No! I'm tired, I'm drunk, and I'm still highly pissed off!" She pushed every elevator button and willed them to open pronto. "Leave me alone."

"Please."

"I'm Sam Braun's daughter under this roof," Catherine snarled, "one call to security and you're out of here!"

"Make the call." He stood his ground. "I'll say what I have to say while they're draggin' me out back door to kick my ass."

"Give it up!" Her blood boiling, she stomped into the first elevator that opened.

---

Stepping out of the VIP elevator, Greg tried to stop grinning like a giddy school boy and get in character. Number 4, there it is. Be cool. He took deep breaths while slowly inserting the key card and opening the door. Don't geek out. "Whoa! This place is awesome!" Shit! I geeked out.

Holding up a premium bottle of Scotch, Nick struggled not to laugh. "How do you like it, Sanders?"

Mesmerized by the sight of his partner with his tux jacket off, three shirt buttons open, and his bow tie undone, Greg didn't answer.

"I said, how do you…"

"Two fingers straight up."

Nick turned to pour two fingers worth of scotch into a snifter and used the opportunity to chuckle quietly. "Here you go." Eyeing his lover like prey, he presented the drink.

"Thanks." Greg raised the glass. "For the whisky and the invitation." He nonchalantly tossed the card key on the coffee table while bringing the glass to his lips for a sip. "Do you mind if I take my jacket off?"

"I'd mind if you didn't." Stepping behind his guest, the well-mannered host helped free him from his jacket and then tossed it aside. "You like the suit?"

"Love it." His body tingling from the sensations of hot breath and strong hands on his body, Greg couldn't contain the moan fighting to get out.

"I'm barely touching you."

"That's the problem."

"Luckily, it's a very fixable problem." Curling his fingers around the skinny teal tie, Nick led his revved guest to the couch. "Have a seat." After reclaiming the Scotch glass he had presented earlier, he gently pushed his playmate onto the leather. "Make yourself at home."

While kicking off his shoes, Greg loosened his tie and popped his top button.

"Why stop there?" He polished off the scotch and set the empty glass on the coffee table.

His eyes locked on the sexy man looming over him, Greg teasingly worked open his shirt and tie. "See something you like?" When he got a grin and a nod in return, he slid his fingers to his belt. I know, I know, you want to see the salon results. After lowering his zipper, he stopped. "Sorry, that's as far as I go on my own." Sitting in the corner of the couch with one foot on the floor, he encouraged him with his eyes. In a matter of seconds he was sliding onto his back and watching his pants and briefs sail through the air.

Eyes locked on the salon handiwork, Nick was momentarily caught off guard by his partner's lusty kiss.

"If I only wanted a drink, I would have stayed downstairs at the bar."

"Be careful what you wish for." Taking over the lead, Nick pinned down the heated body beneath him and showered it with slow, wet kisses until he arrived at his ultimate destination.

Already heated to an extreme, Greg pawed at his lover's hair. If I had known you'd pay this much extra attention to the boys, I would have gone to the salon months ago! The sound of a lid popping snapped him back to the moment. "So prepared, I bet you were a really good boy scout."

"Yeah."

Squirming from his lover's teasing touches, Greg choked out, "Me too."

"You're pretty jumpy for an experienced guy."

"The stuff was cold."

"Right."

After two hours of mental foreplay and ten minutes of physical prodding, Greg struggled to maintain control of his body.

While hastily paving the way to the next level, Nick turned up the heat with ever kiss. "Scout, I think you're ready to earn the 'I made it in a Vegas VIP suite' badge."

The banter as rousing as his lover's handiwork, Greg panted, "How do you know I don't already have that one?" Watching Nick undo his tux pants with one hand made him quiver with anticipation.

"I know because you were a spaz walkin' in here and when I touched you, your whole body was shaking."

"It was cold in the elevator."

"Well, you're hot as hell now," with a devious glint in his eye, Nick asked, "so why are you still shakin', tough guy?" He timed things so he'd get a few minutes of noise instead of words.

With two perfect fantasies merging in Greg's mind, it was almost too much to bear.

Gripping his lover's shoulders, Nick gruffly asked, "What was a nice boy like you doin' in The Coconut Lounge on a Friday night anyway?"

Greg panted, "I'm on Spring Break from Yale…the lounge was on the tour map."

"And right now you're learnin' why your scout leader always said 'never leave the marked trail'." Watching and listening to his partner's pleasure threw Nick into overdrive. "I just earned a badge too," he rasped, "the 'I got me some Ivy League ass' badge."

Making the time out sign, Greg burst into a smile, "I have to tell you this, because it's too good for you not to know. Every time you were in the locker room wearing your court suit, I'd have the hottest fantasy about you having your way with me with your white dress shirt unbuttoned and your pants just below your hips, so you're scoring double fantasy points here."

"Is that why you always lost your train of thought as I pulled off my tie in the locker room?"

Greg gave a guilty nod. "And forget about it if it was a tough day in court and you were agitated, ripping off your clothes while you bitched to release tension."

"Too bad I didn't think of a better way to work out my tension back then." Teasing his lover's eager body, Nick playfully asked, "So…are we goin' back to 1965 or did I just return from testifying from a really rough trial?"

Gripping both sides of Nick's white shirt, Greg yanked him close. "How about we just stop talking and do it until we're spent?"

"Yes!" Resuming with renewed vigor, Nick rejoiced, "Hearin' you say that has been one of my biggest unfulfilled fantasies."

"Are you plotting a body farm?" Sara queried as she approached her husband in their small backyard. "Plotting a body farm by moonlight is extra creepy."

---

"I already have a body farm," he replied with great pride. "I wasn't sure if you were sleeping and I was restless, so I decided to get some fresh air before going inside." He shrugged. "We need to do something with the yard. I'm tired of looking at dirt."

"Well, before you get too many radical ideas, I need to tell you something." It was comforting to see the 'ol Grissom blank stare. She could almost hear him thinking 'oh shit, what have I done now'. "You're not in trouble." Her body tensed. "I am."

"What did you do?" he asked thinking inside the box. "You've barely left the house this week."

"It happened over a week ago, but I didn't realize how much trouble I was in until today."

Taking her hand, Gil soothed, "Whatever it is, we can handle it, Sara."

"I'm glad you think so." Ending the suspense, she revealed a pregnancy test stick. "Plus means pregnant. Does that look like a plus sign to you?"

The genius had to stop and think what a plus sign looked like. "Uh…" He popped on his glasses just to be sure. "Yes, yes that's definitely a plus sign."

"Then there's definitely a little geek on the way."

"I…um…" Gil squeezed her hand as he tensed. "You said you changed your mind. On the day you quit, you said we'd be crazy to bring a child into this world and you asked me to go through with the vasectomy."

"Yeah, so I guess that God you believe in really does have a wicked sense of humor." She bit back her tears.

"What are we going to do?" he anxiously asked, fearing the worst.

After a lengthy stare into her husband's eyes, Sara made her decision. "We'll plant grass. I hear kids like to run on it."

The man who believed he'd never even have a girlfriend had somehow ended up with a wife and a baby on the way. "You're sure you can..."

"I'm sure." She forced a smile. "I just don't know how we're going to raise a baby since we have about an hour of experience between us."

"Research, my dear." He stroked her hair as tears welled in his eyes. "That's how we scientists figure everything out."

---

"Cletus, all that movie watching you did on the sly really paid off." Leaning in the doorway of the opulent VIP suite bathroom, Greg re-cinched his bath towel while cracking a grin. "I'm still buzzin' from the lovin'."

"See, there are perks to havin' a hyper-perfectionist partner." Nick patted the bed. "You thought your parents' bed was plush, wait 'til you try this mattress."

"I'm starving," Greg announced as he bopped over.

"I ordered a bunch of stuff from Room Service, so you should be able to find happiness shortly."

Snuggling close, Greg cooed, "I found happiness hours ago." He grazed his lips over Nick's. "Months ago." After a smoldering kiss, he whispered, "Thank you for everything you did to make tonight special, fun, romantic, and hot as hell. In one evening, you managed to purge the last doubts, worries, or insecurities I had about myself, you, and us. I don't care how many people helped you pull this off, it was all about you putting yourself a million miles out of your comfort zone just to make me feel loved. I've honestly never been happier in my entire life."

Thrilled that he had accomplished everything he had set out to do and more, Nick caressed his partner's cheek. "Roy was laughin' at me earlier, sayin' that by doin' all this, our wedding night would be a let down, but I kinda see our ceremony and reception as bein' a family affair with your mother orchestratin' every detail and me sweatin' bullets over my family bein' there. Don't get me wrong, I think it's gonna be great, but it's not gonna be like tonight. It's not gonna be just about us, so as nervous as I was about tonight, I'm really glad I did this so we could have a special time all to ourselves."

"Me too." Greg smiled, "All that and you fulfilled like six major fantasies of mine in a span of hours."

"I'm just glad I lived to fulfill 'em." Swamped by the memory of almost dying earlier in the week, Nick tensed. "Thinkin' about havin' that gun on me and almost not bein' here makes me think of….you know where my mind goes."

Six feet under in a box full of bugs. "Don't go there." The happier the moment, the bigger the crash. I should have seen this coming.

"I almost missed so much."

"But you didn't."

"I was sleepwalking through life for years, G. There's still so much more I need to do."

"And you will." Greg kept forcing an optimistic tone. "Clearly we've both had our fair share of near-misses, so we're prime for years of safe living."

"You'd think so, but shit keeps happening. I'm startin' to feel like I cheated death and it keeps comin' for me."

"This is why I told you not to watch Final Destination when you found it surfing through channels the other night."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Frustrated that he was ruining the fun, Nick took a deep breath and tried to snap out of his funk.

"Okay, Cletus, here's the deal." Grinning wide, Greg said, "Name one thing you absolutely want to live to do and we'll do it. I don't care what it is, I'll make it happen somehow. That African safari you want might be difficult to accomplish during our 48 hours off, but with a little imagination, I can make it work at Wild Animal Park in San Diego by tomorrow morning."

"I don't need to go anywhere to fulfill my biggest fantasies," Nick confessed with tears in his eyes. "My top two are marriage and family and no matter how much you love me or want to, we can't pull off either tonight."

"Sure we can." Greg lunged for his cell phone from the nightstand. "I'm sure Jan has a Cambodian orphan waiting in the wings, so I can do the family one no problem." When he saw Nick's dumbfounded expression, he chuckled sweetly. "That was a joke, Cletus, it's the other fantasy I'm going to fulfill." He tossed his cell phone on the bed and took his partner's right hand, sliding off his ring. "I can't imagine feeling more committed to you than I do right now, so let's make it official."

"What?"

"Thanks to my father's lawyers, we have our legal domestic partnership in California, right? Unless laws change, we're not going to get more official than that."

"Yeah, but…"

Greg held up his cell again. "I could call any one of the half dozen chapels in this city who do commitment ceremonies, but do we really need a drunk Elvis impersonating pseudo minister telling us what we already know and feel?" In his best Elvis voice, he answered his own question, "No, thank you. No thank you very much."

Appreciating the sentiment, Nick lovingly replied, "I love what you're trying to do, but we can't have a wedding without other people."

"Very true," the genius nodded, "but you didn't say wedding, you said marriage. Remember when we worked that case at Cupid's Kiss?"

"You mean the time my truck got nabbed, I unknowingly gave a murderess my coat, didn't sleep for 27 hours, found out my truck got trashed, and then got blasted by IAB and the Sheriff?"

Greg chuckled at the eye roll he was getting. "Oddly enough that's not the stuff I was going to talk about."

"Thanks."

"In the glorious moments before we realized your truck was gone, we were at the diner talking about the case. Sara was mocking weddings and you said, and I quote, 'a wedding is a public declaration of love between two people'. A wedding is what we're having in July."

"Okay, yeah, but I don't see what…"

"Your fantasy was about marriage, not a wedding. Do you remember your definition of marriage, Cletus? I do! It's a union between two people who love each other and agree to spend the rest of their lives together."

"What's your point, genius?"

"The divorce rate is sky high in this town because a lot of couples have weddings without marriage. The two concepts have grown more and more mutually exclusive and for the most part, not in a good way. That's what Sara was trying to tell you when we were working Cupid's Kiss. She's anti-meaningless wedding, but she's pro-marriage. Coincidentally, she's also married, but never had a wedding."

"She told me she went to a chapel."

"Only because they needed to make it legal. We however, aren't constitutionally burdened with that kind of pressure in the morally conservative state of Nevada, home of Sin City and legalized prostitution, so we don't have to go anywhere." Holding Nick's ring between his thumb and index finger, Greg's voice softened, "Let's have a marriage tonight and a wedding in July."

"Your mom will flip out if we do this."

"Don't worry, Jan has plenty of Valium."

"G…"

"You know what one of my biggest unfulfilled fantasies is?" Greg wished he was joking, "To have one of the biggest moments of my life not involve my mother. Seriously, she's been involved in every one of them. Even when you took my ass cherry, we were on her boat using supplies she bought, and we did it on a bed that she's slept in!" Half laughing, half crying, he pleaded, "Do it, Cletus. Agree to marry me right here, right now, in this non-Jan-tainted environment."

"I'm in love with a lunatic," Nick declared as he slipped the ring off his partner's right index finger.

"But will you love this lunatic forever?" Greg whispered, lining up the ring. "Will you be able to put up with him for the rest of your life?"

Eyes locked on each other, Nick confidently answered, "Yes, without a doubt, yes." The feel of a wedding band sliding down his left ring finger brought tears to Nick's eyes for a second time that night. "Will you spend the rest of your life with me, lovin' me deeply and drivin' me crazy?"

"Most definitely yes." Beaming with excitement, Greg watched his ring slip into place. "You may now kiss your best friend, life partner, husband, and soulmate."

They gravitated closer until their lips met in a tender kiss as their bodies intertwined.

"I love you," Nick breathed out when their mouths finally parted. "Thank you for makin' my biggest fantasy come true on a night that was supposed to be all about you."

Just as Greg was about to reply, there was a loud knock on the front door of the suite. "If that's my mother ruining this for me, I'll…"

"I'm sure it's room service."

Repetitively banging his head into a pillow, Greg disagreed, "I bet she has our rings on GPS and was instantly alerted that we moved them to the left."

"It's room service." Nick stole a quick kiss before reluctantly sliding out of bed. "I'll have the waiter leave everything out in the living room, then I'll wheel it in here."

"Ashamed of the little woman, are you?"

"No," Nick chuckled, "I'm worried it really is your mom and I love my husband too much to have him behind bars for murder." He winked, "No, really it's because you're only wearin' a towel and that would be weird." When he reached the bedroom door, he joked, "Hey, do you think I look too gay in this robe?"

"Compared to when you were ravenously consuming six and a half inches of my body, you're lookin' pretty straight to me right now." Listening to Nick's carefree laughter, Greg's heart soared. "Second knock, you better answer before Jan kicks down the door."

"Be right there!"

When Nick hustled out of the room, Greg rolled out of bed to fetch his complimentary bathrobe and hurried to join him. "Sorry, the suspense was killing me," he announced, bounding into the main room. The sight of food brought great relief.

"Told ya." After shutting the door, Nick walked over to the cart. "Cath must have sent up the bottle of Dom with the order, because I didn't ask for it." He plucked the card from the bottle, read it and immediately tucked it in his robe pocket.

Greg screeched, "It's from my mother, isn't it?"

"No."

"Give me the card."

"Let's just eat." Trying not to laugh, Nick grabbed a plate of cheesecake. "Mmm, your favorite."

"Card! Now!" Greg lunged for his spouse's robe pocket. "Or we'll tie Britney Spears for shortest Vegas marriage."

Shaking with laughter, Nick handed it over.

To the lovebirds in Suite 4:

Oh what a night!
Good thing the walls are soundproof.
Enjoy the bubbly, boys!

From your neighbors in Suite 5
(aka Catherine and Warrick)

"Gotcha!" Nick clapped his hands. "The look on your face."

"But they're not together. They don't even speak to each other unless it's work-related."

"Yeah, well…" Grinning, Nick poured two glasses of champagne. "Maybe Cupid, aka me, helped them out a bit." Handing over a glass, he toasted, "To our happy, healthy, and lengthy marriage."

"I'll toast to that." They tapped glasses. "And I'll drink to that." They sipped. "I'll also kiss to that." Running his left hand through Nick's hair, Greg grazed his mouth over his husband's. "Sweet," he commented, smacking his champagne-tinged lips.

"Yeah," Nick agreed while staring at the ring on his left hand, "as terrifying as my week started out, it's ending sweeter than I ever imagined."

***

Chapter 29: Family Business – Part 1

It was just after 8am when Nick pulled his truck into the Sanders's driveway. "G, I saw you get choked up listenin' to Skin. Admit it, you're a Rascal Flatts fanboy."

"It had nothing to do with Rascal Flatts. The song is about an innocent teenage girl with cancer whose boyfriend shows up bald on prom night so she'll go even though she doesn't have hair."

"The boyfriend shavin' his head is the best part."

Greg muttered, "I got choked up because the sad storyline caught me off guard."

"Uh huh." Nick yanked the keys out of the ignition while coughing 'fanboy'.

Rolling his eyes, Greg opened his door. "Dude, I listen to music to chill out." He waited for Nick to join him in front of the truck. "Thinking about cancer-stricken little girls makes me sad. Why would I want to listen to music that makes me depressed?" He stood with his arms folded across his chest. "I have to cope with enough depressing crap on the job."

"Aww, you missed the point of the song, honey." Still buzzing from exchanging rings twenty-eight hours earlier, the romantic placed his hand over his heart and educated his spouse, "It's about unconditional love. Sara Beth is afraid she'll die without knowin' what it's like to fall in love and experience life with someone special. I felt just like her when I was six feet under."

Suddenly feeling like the Grinch, Greg stopped protesting.

"Sara Beth's stittin' home at rock bottom when her prom date shows up, but then she finds out that he doesn't care what she looks like on the outside, because he loves her for her inner beauty. Later, in his arms at the prom, she's so happy, she even stops bein' scared. I can relate to that too, because I was alone and scared before you came along and made everything okay."

The sentiment melted Greg's disdain for hillbilly tunes.

"That's why I love country music, it's about life and the words and the emotions in the songs are relatable. There are dozens of songs that remind me about us." Nick pointed at his now-smiling partner, "I'm gonna make you a mix tape to show you what I mean."

"I've always wanted someone to make me a mix tape." When he saw Nick's smile fade, he said, "What's wrong?"

"I just realized we don't have a tape player or recorder."

"No one's ever made me a mix-CD either, so you're good, Cletus."

"I feel so married," Nick remarked, both thrilled and surprised by the revelation.

"Me too." Greg snickered, "And I can't wait to break the news to Jan, so let's…"

"Hello there!" Suzie Perkins cheerily yelled as she trotted from her front yard across the street.

"Who's she?" Nick asked.

"A neighbor I guess." Greg waved at the approaching stranger. "She looks like Bree Van de Kamp from Desperate Housewives but ten years older and twenty pounds plumper, doesn't she?"

Nick snarked, "Like I've ever wasted my time watchin' that stupid ass show."

"Hi, I'm Suzie Perkins, I live across the street." Eyeing the handsome dark-haired stranger, she extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Nick returned the handshake.

"Is everything alright?" she whispered. "The people that live here just moved in and they haven't been very social. I'm hoping you Forensics boys aren't responding to something grisly."

Greg pointed to his partner. "Forensics is on the back of your sweatshirt."

"Ah." Nick flashed a disarming smile. "We're LVPD Forensics guys, but we're off duty."

Extending his hand, Greg smiled, "I'm Greg Sanders, aka the son of the new people who live here and haven't been very social."

"Oh my gosh." Suzie covered her mouth. "Forgive me, I was worried and I wasn't thinking before I spoke. My husband says I do that all the time, maybe he's right."

"Don't worry," Greg assured the woman, "my mom has been really busy with moving and getting my sisters settled, but once she has a little free time on her hands, I guarantee she'll be social."

"I'll have to invite her to join our Book Club. We mostly eat and gossip, but eventually we mention the book."

Greg assured the sunny homemaker, "My mother loves reading, cooking, and meddling, so she will be a great addition to your club."

"Aren't you funny." She chuckled with the guys before asking, "So, are you two partners?"

"Is it that obvious?" Nick blurted, surprised that their love was suddenly apparent to total strangers.

"See, marriage agrees with us, Cletus." Greg tossed his arm around his spouse and told the open-minded neighbor, "We only tied the knot on Saturday night. We haven't even told…" When he saw Suzie gasp and cover her mouth he removed his arm. "You meant police partners, didn't you?"

Thinking of his own nasty neighbor, Nick defensively informed the woman, "Don't worry, we don't live here."

"No, it's okay," Suzie smoothly recovered, "I love gays. Tim Gunn is my favorite one. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's a great guy," Greg enthusiastically replied, "I sat next to him at last month's gay meeting."

Nick choked on his laughter.

"Hey, boys!" Tawny came bounding down the front walk. "Good thing you're here, because Jan's inside cursing you for being late for breakfast. She made strata."

"Strata, it's not even Christmas!" Greg whooped. "She must have sensed it was a special occasion."

While slipping one arm around each guy, Tawny smiled at the silent stranger. "Are you hitting on my boys?"

Suzie was too mesmerized by the petite woman's DD boobs to hear.

"She's staring at the girls." Tawny sighed, "Now do you see why I'm getting the reduction next week even though I won't need to make breast milk for our babies for a while? No one will take me seriously until I have my B's back."

"Babies?" Suzie uttered.

"I'm not one of the adopted girls, I'm living here to go to college and be the surrogate mommy for these guys."

Nick wished he had thought to cover her mouth. "We've probably given Mrs. Perkins more than enough to mull over for the morning." He motioned for Greg and Tawny to start walking. "It was lovely meetin' you, ma'am. Have a good day."

"You too," Suzie robotically replied while trying to decide which of her neighbors should hear the gossip first.

"Sorry," Tawny apologized as they walked into the house. "I shouldn't have talked about boobs and babies."

"No," Nick gently scolded, "we don't want to make things difficult for Cassie and Jenni, we want them to fit into the neighborhood."

"There you are!" Jan exclaimed as she hurried into the living room wiping her hands on her floral apron.

Watching his mother's apron strings flapping in the breeze as she bitched, Greg lifted his left hand and waved. "Hi, Mom, sorry we're late, but your neighbor cornered us."

Tawny scurried out of the room before they could say she blurted private information.

"Greg!" Shaking her head, Jan grabbed her son's left hand. "You put your ring on the wrong finger after washing up."

Nick shot a warning look at his spouse to remind him that they agreed he would handle the reveal maturely.

"No, it's on the right hand."

Jan laughed in her son's face, "Some genius you are, you can't even tell your right from your left."

"I meant it's on the correct hand." Smiling uncontrollably, Greg shared, "We were so in love and sure about the future on Saturday night, we got married in the privacy of our hotel suite."

Seeing Jan's shock, Nick assured her, "We're still gonna have the wedding ceremony, that's not changed."

"What?" The disappointed mother lashed out, "How can there be a ceremony to exchange rings when you've already exchanged them?"

Greg calmly replied, "We're going to hold hands and have the minister bless our rings at the ceremony while confirming our commitment to one another in front of our families and God. It'll be great, trust me. Nick came up with everything. He'll tell you the details over breakfast."

Pissed that her plans were changing, Jan huffed, "What makes you think you're still invited to breakfast?"

"Mom…" After a calming breath, Greg pleaded, "Please just be happy for me, because I've honestly never been happier. Nick went above and beyond to take me on the best date of my life. I can't wait to tell you guys about it." He snickered, "I'll give you the PG version since there will be minors present."

"Still not enthused," the frustrated mother grumbled.

"Jan, maybe this will help." Taking Greg's hand, the anxious son-in-law explained, "Havin' that gun pulled on me at the scene last week was a wake up call for us. It's the reason we worked with your husband's lawyers to finalize the Domestic Partnership in California ahead of schedule, so we're set in case something bad happens." Glancing at his partner, Nick sweetly said, "On Saturday night we decided we wanted a little more than pieces of paper, we wanted to be married in our hearts too." He met his mother-in-law's eyes. "I waited decades to find love, Jan, and even though it seems silly that I couldn't wait another seven weeks after all that time, I couldn't, I'm sorry. I just love your son that much."

Greg laughed to himself. Once a ladies man, always a ladies man.

Tearing up over the sentiment, Jan replied, "When you put it like that, Nicky."

"Congratulations," Dave merrily declared from his position in the living room doorway. "That was very touching, Nick." His love and acceptance of the man doubled. "My son's a lucky guy."

"Hey, Nick's lucky too," Jan added in defense of her son. "My boy's a great catch."

---

After listening to Mandy dreamily recount the details of her romantic Saturday night with Henry for twenty minutes, Wendy couldn't wait to grab her stuff and bolt from the locker room. "I'm really happy for you," she sincerely told her pal before breaking into a colossal yawn. "Sorry, I'm coming off ten exhausting hours and I still haven't solved my case."

"The first one's always the toughest," Mandy laughed, "except for Greg, he did great with his first two and almost blew it because he couldn't get number three."

"Thanks for planting that in my head." Sighing, Wendy popped open her locker. "What's this?" she curiously remarked when she saw a brown envelope with the words 'READ ME' on it in black marker.

"Ooh, mystery envelope. Someone must have slid it inside." Mandy motioned for her friend to open it. "I hope it's not nude photos of you that an old boyfriend is trying to use to blackmail you."

"Since I can't remember the last time I was nude with a boyfriend, I don't think so."

Mandy teased, "Okay then, nude photos of you that a one-night stand is using to blackmail you."

"Keep going and your murder will be real easy for me to solve." Opening the envelope she saw a note. "Photo 141, evidence bag 62, put it together and follow the clue."

"Ooh!"

"Hodges."

"You think so?"

Wendy's reply was a smile.

"Give me everything." Mandy carefully snatched it. "I'll dust it and see if we can bust him."

---

"You have to eat a waffle, you carb-fearing freak." Greg pulled his latest one from the waffle iron and placed it in front of his spouse. "Nana Olaf's waffles are legendary. They were the only reason I could get kids to come over my house for play dates."

"Aww," the girls sang as a trio.

"Sad but true, ladies," Greg looked at his mother. "You should show them my dorktastic 3rd grade photo to erase their doubts."

"I wanna see," Nick announced, already picturing the snapshot in his mind.

"If you eat the waffle," Jan snickered.

With the entire family razzing him, Nick succumbed to the pressure. "Okay, okay, I'll eat it, but only 'cause we just got married and the waffle looks romantic with the five little hearts."

Jan educated her son-in-law, "If it's not shaped like that, it's not an authentic Norwegian waffle."

Sitting at the head of the table, Dave quietly took in the family scene. It was hard to believe that his empty nest had become fuller than it had ever been. His wife was happier than she had been in the ten years since her parents' deaths and Greg moving out of state. Some women were born to be doctors and lawyers, but the only thing Jan ever wanted to be was a nurturer and a mother. Intense and controlling as she was, he knew it was never for nefarious purposes. Her heart was full of love and her actions were always rooted in good intentions. Jan had felt compelled to overlove Greg, because he was underloved by the world, but now that Nick was loving him just right, he could tell she was stepping back as much as she could. At 33, Greg was a saint for still putting up with her antics, but like father like son, the boy knew the truth and couldn't deny the one person who had always unconditionally loved him during the hardest of times and on the saddest of occasions.

"What are you grinning about down there?" Jan asked her husband from across the table.

"My family," Dave replied, smiling at all of them. "I'm crazy about every dysfunctional one of you and I'm hoping that if you take a bunch of dysfunctional people and make a family out of them, you get a functional family, as opposed to a family that starts out under normal conditions and becomes horribly dysfunctional."

"Like my family," Nick remarked while scraping his last piece of waffle in a pool of syrup and melted butter. "I like that theory, Dave, and I love bein' part of this family, assuming you were including me."

"Absolutely." Dave teased his son-in-law, "What would a family of dysfunctionals be without an uptight, gay, jock control freak with PTSD, OCD, and Daddy issues? We need you for balance, son."

"Yeah," Tawny jumped to agree, "you balance out my Mommy issues, low self-esteem, child of an alcoholic, and abandonment issues real well."

"Ditto." Jenni raised her glass of OJ. "But it's good to have things in common too. Like Greg knowing what it feels like to have people hate you for something you didn't cause, but to the outside world, you're the one to blame. My mom caused the bus crash, but everyone said it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't missed the bus, but I wouldn't have missed the bus if my mother hadn't been drunk and breaking the law. All I was trying to do was get to school. Greg was just trying to do his job when Demetrius James broke the law and did something wrong." She breathed and smiled at her progress, "My therapist told me last week that we shouldn't feel guilty because of wrong things other people did."

"Easier said than done," Greg replied, still trying to do the same, "but in theory I know your therapist is right."

"How's the firearms certification going, son?" Dave would rest easier once he knew his boy wasn't unarmed in the field.

"Oh, um…" When Nick patted his thigh, Greg confessed, "I was doing pretty good at the range with Nick, but after my actions at the hospital last week, my request for certification was put on hold until I undergo a Psych Eval. Something about not wanting to give a loaded gun to a guy seemingly still loaded with rage."

At odds with LVPD policy since the lab explosion, Dave snapped, "What about the cop who put stitches in Nick's head? I sure as hell hope they're taking away his gun too."

Nick answered. "He's suspended through next week, but then he's on desk duty for six months while he completes community service, anger management, and sensitivity training obligations."

"But you guys are so backlogged that Greg has to keep going out in the field unarmed." Dave rolled his eyes.

Greg warned his sisters, "This is usually when I get the 'you should tell them to shove it and take a corporate research job paying you six-figures' speech."

"No, I'm not going to say it." Dave pushed past his urge to spew some tough love. "You're 33 and married now, son, your life is not mine to meddle in anymore." He shut up and ranted in silence. If you want to be underpaid, underappreciated and repeatedly shit on by the County that's your prerogative, but I'll be here if you need me to pay for a quality plastic surgeon a third time. "I love you and support your decision to hang tough."

"Thanks, Dad." Greg knew his father was silently ranting. "Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. Save your strength for protecting the youngsters."

---

"I'm sure you see the problems with parading around a homo-hero." The Governor's PR rep grimaced at the Mayor and the Sheriff. "It would have been nice for one of you to mention Stokes was gay before our office selected Cassie McBride's essay as the winner. We would have picked the boy who wrote about his mother's heroic battle with cancer."

"We didn't know at the time," the Sheriff droned. "I thought we were going to get a shitload of positive PR out of Stokes being picked, not a fucking political nightmare."

"You mean like the racial uprising one of your CSIs caused?" The mayor snapped at the Sheriff, "I'm still getting hate mail over Sanders and the Demetrius James bullshit. As if it wasn't bad enough that the gangster lowlife piece of shit cost us two million, he's been dead for eight months, but his ghost is haunting my re-election campaign on a daily basis."

The Sheriff decided to let the other shoe drop. "There's something else you need to know." He tensed in his chair, "Stokes is partners with Sanders."

"Since when do you partner up your CSIs?" the Mayor quizzed. "I thought they were assigned to shift teams."

"Not that kind of partner."

"You mean they're romantically involved?" the Mayor asked in shock.

"I don't find the idea of two guys screwing each other romantic, but for the sake of brevity, I'll say yes. They have matching rings and are having a commitment ceremony next month."

"Son of a bitch!" The mayor paced the room like a caged tiger. "We're honoring the gay lover of the CSI who caused a frigging race war? So not only will the homo-haters protest, we'll have every pissed off black in the city screaming injustice."

"Gentlemen, I have an idea." The PR Rep calmly stated, "I'm sure they can't afford a decent honeymoon on the pissant salary you pay them, so how about we change the award format to a monetary prize instead of presentation and a reception. To placate the girl, give her scholarship money and just to be safe, a gift card to the mall – tweens love that shit."

"Buy them off?" the Sheriff clarified. "Like we haven't paid off enough people to shut up in the last year."

"Stokes and the orphan aren't greedy bastards like Mrs. James; one's a working class hero and the other is a messed up foster. Give them five grand each and they'll be ecstatic." The PR Rep smiled. "End of problem."

---

"I solved it," Wendy sweetly announced as she snuck up behind Hodges in the Break Room.

"Solved what?" The confused Trace Tech asked, trying desperately not to offend his dream girl with one of his customary snarky replies.

"You not taking immediate credit for something?" She burst out laughing. "Cats and dogs must be frolicking in the streets."

"Sorry, I'm exhausted from putting in an extra ten hours."

"Come on, Davey, fess up." She gave him a playful nudge. "I came here all prepared to be sincere and thank you for being my friend, even though you're not in favor of me becoming a CSI."

"Friend," he stated, surprised to hear her use the word. "You think of me as a friend?"

"After what you did," she grinned, "I'll even go as far as to say you're on your way to becoming a good friend."

"Really?" His spirits soared. "H…how good? Like having coffee and chit-chat together kind of good friends, or going out to dinner together good friends, or…"

"Stop there before you say something that kills the mood."

As Wendy stepped closer, Hodges took her advice and clamped his lips shut.

"How about I take you to dinner to thank you for being a nice guy?" Immensely grateful for his silent devotion, she leaned against the countertop and stared into his eyes. "I've been pretty harsh with you and while some of it…a lot of it, was justified, I'm ready to give a dinner date a chance."

"Date?" he blurted.

"Let's not advertise, okay? Not that I don't want people to know, but you know how the gossip goes around this place. They'll have me pregnant after one date."

"Mandy really did get pregnant after one date."

"Yeah, well, I won't be getting pregnant on our date, because unlike Mandy, I won't be getting drunk or naked." When she saw him wince, she backpedaled, "Not that I'm saying that a woman has to be drunk to sleep with you."

"Actually, aside from the ones I've paid, they all have been drunk." After thinking about his statement, he said, "The hookers were probably wasted too now that I think about it." When Wendy covered his mouth with her palm, he took the hint and shut up again.

"Will tonight work for you?"

Hodges tried not to squeal with excitement while nodding.

"Nine o'clock at Sakura sound good?"

Since Burger King with Wendy would have been heavenly, he happily nodded.

"I'll meet you in the bar at nine then." Just as she turned to leave, she saw Mandy rushing in waving a piece of paper. "What's wrong with you?"

When Hodges strolled by her whistling a happy tune, Mandy knew that Wendy had gone ahead and asked him out as a thank you. "I have the information you were supposed to wait for." She handed it over rolling her eyes. "Your print results, Ms. Intuitive CSI."

Grinning, Wendy glanced down to confirm what she already knew. "What? Greg sent the note?"

"Good thing you won't be allowed to guess whodunit when you're a CSI."

"You're sure?"

"His prints were all over the tape used to seal the envelope."

"But I already asked out Hodges," the DNA Tech lamented.

"And what would Freud say about that?" Mandy pushed up her glasses. "Maybe there was a reason you didn't wait."

---

"Sorry to eat and run," Jan announced while saying goodbye to Nick and Greg in the kitchen. "But I'm sure two CSIs will be great at cleaning up the scene." She was taking the girls shopping to keep Cassie's mind off the end of year school party she opted not to attend because it was being held at the lake.

"We have it covered, Mom." Greg pecked her cheek. "Thanks for not getting pissed about re-doing the ceremony."

"For the record, if you had come here to say you were cancelling it, I would have disowned you." Smiling, she patted his cheek. "Your father is in his office on a conference call, don't forget to say goodbye to him before you leave."

"We won't," Nick assured her while bringing plates to the sink.

As soon as his mother was gone, Greg flipped on the countertop radio. "I'm feeling generous, so I'll put on your favorite hillbilly station, Cletus."

"Aww, that was Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy that just ended." Nick winked, "I'd love to sing that one to ya…in bed."

"Don't make me think dirty thoughts under my parents' new roof." Opening the dishwasher, Greg snickered, "I spent a decade spanking the monkey under their other roof and I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

When Nick heard Keith Urban's Making Memories of Us start playing, he burst into a smile, "This is one of the songs I planned on puttin' on your mix tape."

"I'll actually listen to it now that I know it's mix tape worthy."

"Good, because the words in this song are exactly how I feel."

Rinsing dishes, Greg pondered the opening lyrics I'm gonna be here for ya, baby. I'll be a man of my word – speak the language in a voice that you have never heard. I want to sleep with you forever and I want to die in your arms in a cabin by a meadow where the wild bees swarm. "Dying in a meadow full of bees sounds like Grissom's ideal death scenario, doesn't it?"

"Ha! I thought that the first time I heard the song."

"Great minds think alike."

"I'm flattered you put my mind in the same league as yours, genius." Setting another pile of plates on the counter, Nick sang the chorus, "And I'm gonna love you, like nobody loves you. And I'll earn your trust making memories of us."

"Reminds me of Saturday night," Greg said with a smile.

"Exactly." Nick wrapped his arms around his partner from behind and tenderly continued to croon, "I wanna honor your mother, and I wanna learn from your pa." He growled the next line while swaying their bodies, "I wanna steal your attention like a bad outlaw."

Greg shivered with pleasure when a juicy kiss landed squarely on his neck. "That move will always get you my full attention."

"I wanna stand out in a crowd for you, a man among men." Feeling the sentiment, Nick snuggled up close, "I wanna make your world better than it's ever been."

"The job's all yours, Cletus."

Standing at the end of the hallway, Dave watched the romantic moment play out. After worrying about Nick's controlling behavior, the tenderness brought sweet relief. It was also undeniably nice to see that the physical relationship wasn't only about sex. I'm appreciating you a little more every hour, Nicky. Just as he was about to back away, he saw his son-in-law initiate a slow dance. Curiosity getting the best of him, he continued to watch.

"My hands are wet and soapy."

"I don't care." Nick winked, "We'll follow the rainbow, wherever the four winds blow…"

"A country song with gay subtext? I didn't see that coming." Greg chuckled as Nick subtly tried to give him dancing lessons.

Completely in love with the man in his arms, Nick softly sang as they swayed in perfect harmony, "I'm gonna be here for ya from now on, this you know somehow." He caressed his partner's cheek. "You've been stretched to the limits, but it's alright now."

Hopelessly swooning, Greg whispered, "My life is much, much more than alright now."

It was exactly the response Nick was hoping for, so he continued his musical vows, "I'm gonna make you a promise…if there's life after this, I'm gonna be there to meet you with a warm wet kiss."

"Give me a preview," Greg urged.

Nick filled the request by caressing his lover's lips with a slow, burning kiss that quickly took a passionate turn.

As uncomfortable as it was to watch his son share a torrid kiss with a man, it was nice to know his boy was finally seeing some quality action after many lean years.

Breaking the kiss, Nick resumed the dance, belting out the last chorus, "And I'm gonna love you, like nobody loves you…"

When Greg heard his dance partner's cell phone obnoxiously interrupt the perfect moment, he grumbled, "Don't they know we're on our honeymoon?"

"You better answer that," Dave announced upon approach. "I have a feeling it's the Sheriff's office."

Feeling awkward about dancing in the kitchen in front of his father-in-law, Nick jumped back and grabbed his cell. "How did you know…"

"Because Mama Evelyn just called me to say that the Sheriff called her in regards to Cassie's hero essay and the award presentation. He wanted to know if she could meet with him today. Evelyn was Cassie's guardian at the time the essay was written and I guess they haven't heard she was adopted."

---

"That dress is perfect for the ceremony, Cassie." Savoring every motherly moment, Jan smoothed her hand over the girl's hair. "What do you think, Sweetie?"

"I feel like I could be in a fashion magazine," the 12 year old honestly replied while looking at her reflection in the trendy coral and white dot-print charmeuse dress. "Do you think Nick will like it?"

"Totally," Tawny confidently answered, "because it has Southern charm."

---

"Did you fart again, Cletus?" Greg rolled down the truck's window and stuck his head out of it like a dog enjoying the breeze.

"You made me eat that damn waffle."

"Nice try, but waffles don't make people fart."

"They do if you're not used to eatin' one."

"Uh huh."

Pulling into the driveway, Nick chuckled, "Hey, if you have a problem with my ass's behavior, then you don't have to come near it ever again."

"Fortunately I'm a very forgiving person."

"I figured you would be." Nick grabbed his keys from the ignition and hopped out of the truck. "Do you want to come with me to this meeting?"

"To hang with the Sheriff who said things would have been so much simpler and economical if I had died after killing Demetrius James?" While walking to the front door, Greg pretended to ponder the idea. "It's tempting, but I think I'll get a double root canal without Novocain instead."

"I figured you'd say somethin' like that." When Nick opened the door and heard the distinct sounds of Cowboy Troy's I Play Chicken with the Train blasting through the house, he cringed.

"I hope this song isn't going to be on my mix tape."

"No." After tossing his keys on the entry table, Nick started for the family room to turn the music down. "I hope the windows aren't open or we'll be hearin' from Mrs. Kravitz again."

"Yeah, and then she'll…oh shit." Smack in the middle of the family room floor was Roy, who was wearing a black cowboy hat and a grimace of ecstasy as Bobby Dawson thrilled him. "How about we just tip toe out of here and they'll never know we…" When he saw his partner's blood boiling, he knew that wasn't an acceptable option.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nick's voice boomed over the blaring music, startling the lovers whose eyes had been clamped shut.

Bobby gasped when he saw that they were busted. As much as he couldn't imagine staying where he was, he couldn't imagine disengaging in front of spectators, especially one who was probably going to kill him. Luckily Roy had his wits about him and tossed a nearby blanket over them, so they could have a little privacy as they parted ways.

"It's not what it looks like," Roy explained to his seething cousin.

Bobby knew that answer wasn't going to fly.

"Really?" Nick fired back, "It looks like you're havin' sex with my co-worker in my house when I've made it clear that you're not allowed to bring people here. Which part do I have wrong?"

"You said I couldn't bring strangers home," Roy quickly clarified. "Bobby's not a stranger, he's your friend."

"That's up for debate now," Nick narrowed his gaze on the Ballistics Tech. "I guess I know why my cousin rushed me out of the bathroom at the Tangiers the other night. He didn't want me to find out you were one of the guys in the stall."

"I um…" Bobby gulped the lump in his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about.

Greg calmly whispered to his partner, "Don't jump to conclusions, let Roy explain."

"He wasn't at The Tangiers," Roy stated, reminding himself that his cousin wasn't very worldly. "That was me partyin'. This is different."

"Did you hustle my co-worker?" Nick replied, suddenly feeling nauseous. "Or did he approach you?" If it was Bobby's idea, he feared what he'd do.

"Please, stop." Greg stepped in front of Nick. "We're not at work, this isn't an interrogation. Let Roy explain without interrupting him, please." He whispered, "You're reminding me why I used to get so pissed off at my father when he'd misinterpret a situation and blast me without hearing anything I had to say."

"Okay, fine." Nick stuffed his hands on his hips. "Start talkin'."

"Bobby and I met at Greg's birthday party and hit it off. We're together."

"Except when you're at The Tangiers," Nick interjected much to his partner's dismay. "So I guess Bobby just found out you cheated on him? And you," he scowled at his co-worker, "you didn't think I might have a problem with you sleepin' with my 20 year old cousin?"

"Nick, come on, it's not like he took my cherry," Roy couldn't stop the chuckle rising. "Bobby knows I party with whoever I want, but I only have sex with him. We're really happy with the arrangement and each other."

"Huh?" Nick couldn't get his head around the concept. "What exactly are you getting in return for letting a guy almost twice your age have unlimited access to your ass?"

"How about we give you guys five minutes to pull yourselves together?" Greg took his partner by the arm and led him down the hall. "We'll be back."

"I can't believe this," Nick huffed as he marched into the home office. "I don't know which of 'em I'm more pissed at."

"Neither would be a good choice." Greg shut the door and then leaned against it. "Is this how we're going to parent? Me asking you to calm down and listen and you managing it for thirty seconds? Because I'd like to remind you that neither of us had good relationships with our dads, so how can we expect our kids to have good relationships with us if we act just like either of our fathers?"

"So I'm just supposed to condone that shit under my own roof?" Nick stood his ground. "Sorry, that's my little cousin out there with a guy older than me."

"Roy isn't little anymore, he's twenty and he's already more worldly than I'll ever be." Greg cut to the heart of the matter, "How many chicks had you slept with by the time you were Roy's age?"

"G…"

"Admit it, if Roy was straight and we had come home and found him with a 37 year old babe, the old Nick would have said atta boy and given him a cigar."

"Hey!" Nick's frustration soared, "He said he was sick of bein' nothin' more than a piece of ass in San Francisco, so I gave him a safe place to live and paid for his college tuition, so he could have a normal life again."

"And what's so abnormal about horny Texas college boys looking for as much action as possible?" As Nick paced the room, Greg calmly said, "Roy not wanting to be exploited and Roy not fooling around aren't the same thing. I think you just want Roy to have the same type of relationship you and me do, but he's not that kind of guy, at least not yet. It took you until thirty-five to be that kind of guy."

"So you think I'm a hypocrite."

"No, I think you're worried about your cousin and want him to find happiness like you have." Greg walked over and slipped his arms around his partner's waist. "And like any good parent, you don't want him to make the same mistakes you made."

"Yeah, that's definitely part of it," Nick confessed. "Sleepin' around for years didn't do much for my peace of mind."

"Roy's on the fence. He wants stability, so he's in relationship with Bobby, but he's not ready to stop partying, because he's young, used to the lifestyle, and meeting hot guys all the time."

"Wait a sec." Nick's investigator sixth-sense finally caught up with him. "You're talkin' like you knew about their relationship."

"Yeah. I told them that they had to come clean with you, but they've been putting it off." Smiling, Greg said, "But since I didn't want to keep a secret from my husband, I called Roy yesterday and said they had to tell you when we returned from The Tangiers or I would tell you. I'm guessing that's why Bobby was here…among other reasons. I told them we'd be back two hours from now, so they weren't expecting to get caught in the act."

After a couple of deep breaths, Nick said, "I think you're gonna be a better dad than me. I'm gonna be the hothead whose kids hate him."

"I'm gonna be the geek dad who can't coach football, or baseball, or any sport."

"You'll teach 'em chess."

"Won't that make me supercool."

The sound of his partner's geeky laugh finally brought the smile back to Nick's face.

"You okay with everything?"

"Yeah," Nick whispered, "It was a little weird for me to see two guys goin' at it who aren't in a movie. Even weirder because I'm related to one of them."

"At least you didn't find your grandparents doing it in the kitchen."

"No, really?"

Greg shivered at the thought of the trauma. "Twice."

---

"I can't believe I got pregnant on the first try," Sara remarked as she lazed on the couch flipping through the first of six pregnancy books Gil had brought home for her. "That's only supposed to happen to virginal teens."

"And Mandy according to the watercooler set." Washing strawberries in the kitchen, Gil said, "Want to hear about the break we may have in a cold case?"

"It would be a violation of department policy to discuss case details with a civilian."

"I'm willing to trust that you won't gossip since you rarely leave the house."

"I walk Bruno twice a day."

"I stand corrected," he politely replied. "Your friends keep asking me when you're going to return their calls."

"I should be taking vitamins."

Gil took the shift of subject as a hint. "Yes, you should be taking vitamins."

"Can you pick some up for me on the way home tomorrow?"

"No."

Sara glanced over the top of the book.

"If you're not going to talk to your friends, I want you to at least make human contact with the sales clerk at Hi-Health."

"I talk to people when I walk the dog." When her husband shot her a look, she relented, "Okay, okay, I'll buy the damn vitamins, so your kid isn't born with three arms."

"I'm sure our child will thank you for that."

---

"Thank you for clearing your schedules to meet with me," the Sheriff robotically remarked as he glanced up from his paperwork. "Nick, I…where is Evelyn?"

"She's no longer Cassie's foster mother, because my wife and I legally adopted Cassie a couple of weeks ago. I have the paperwork with me if you need proof." Dave didn't offer a handshake. "You might remember me from when we encountered each other outside my son's hospital room. Dave Sanders."

"Right." Shit! "It's good to see you under better circumstances."

"I wish I could say the same," Dave grumbled as he took a seat in a guest chair next to Nick.

Deciding to stick to the agreed upon plan, the Sheriff popped on his politician's smile and forged ahead. "Congratulations, Nick, the department was very excited to learn that your heroics were the subject of an award winning essay from a schoolgirl."

"Thanks," Nick humbly replied. "I was just doin' my job and what other people did for me when I went missing. I don't need any more recognition than I already got with the commendation ceremony last year, but I'm real psyched for Cassie's sake that she won the contest. She's been lookin' for a way to pay me back since I found her, so she's finally at peace."

"I think she'll be more than at peace when you hear what I have to say." The Sheriff held up a $5,000 check and a $500 gift card for the mall. "We were able to acquire some donations and are going to give her this scholarship check and a little shopping spree."

The aroma of bureaucratic bullshit filling his nose, Dave remained silent.

"That's great!" Nick whooped. "She'll be over the moon."

"And there's more," the Sheriff merrily assured the easily pacified worker bee. "You're getting a $5,000 bonus and you're getting promoted to 'Senior Forensics Specialist'."

"What does that get him?" Dave queried while Nick beamed with pride. My guess is 'a nifty title, extra responsibility, and no pay increase'.

"Besides the prestigious title, which he'll be the first in LVPD history to have, he'll be Grissom's go-to guy and supervisory backup."

Dave nudged his son-in-law, "Aren't you going to ask him what the pay increase is?"

"I didn't even think about that," Nick chuckled, "it just felt nice to have my efforts finally recognized."

Dave smiled and nodded, That's what the manipulative asshole is counting on, Nicky.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Stokes." The Sheriff grinned at the dedicated sap. "After the bonus, there wasn't any room in the budget to give you much of a raise this year, but next year…"

"I understand," Nick didn't want to seem ungrateful for the promotion. "I appreciate you callin' me down here to tell me in person too. Between this and the award ceremony, I'm gonna get a swelled head."

While he was certain his politically tone deaf son-in-law didn't think there was more, Dave, a seasoned businessman used to dealing with government blowhards, was waiting to hear the real reason they had been called there.

"About the award ceremony, gentlemen." The Sheriff relaxed in his premium leather desk chair. "There are some insurmountable logistics and scheduling issues with the Governor and Mayor's schedule, so we've had to change things a bit. We're going to have a very nice ceremony at a lovely restaurant where your families and guests can attend and enjoy a delicious dinner with me. Better than having tea and cookies with the Governor, don't you think?"

Before Nick could agree that it sounded swell, Dave said, "Here's exactly what I think. The Governor and Mayor didn't know Nick was gay when they picked Cassie's essay and the idea of lauding a gay hero gave all of you a case of the 'Re-election Shivers', so you called us down here to buy your way out of the mess." He enjoyed watching Nick's shock and the two-faced bastard's aggravation build. "Am I close, Sheriff?"

"Look, if this is about what happened to your son…"

"No, it's not about my son, it's about my daughter." Dave stood and loomed over the man. "Trust me, if I was the kind of man who interfered in his adult son's life, I would have told you to fuck off long ago." He pointed to Nick. "If he wants to take your offer and skip out of here whistling a happy tune, that's none of my business, but as a tax-paying citizen, I feel compelled to ask why a guy who keeps the streets a little safer and just saved two of LVPD's finest is only worth five grand and a bullshit promotion, when the mother of a coldblooded killer got 2.4 million dollars to get out of your hair!"

Nick wondered why it didn't dawn on him to ask that question.

"There's no reason to shout, Mr. Sanders."

"Right, I'll follow your example." Dave pulled out his key ring and yanked off two gold keys. "Here you go, Nick. Those are the keys to The Freyja. You can either take the five grand and bullshit promotion or you can have The Freyja." He grinned at the Sheriff, "The Freyja is my 40 foot Sunray sport yacht. It's valued at $475,000."

His head spinning, Nick stared at the keys that represented 8 years of take-home pay.

"Right, right, it's Vegas, you think I'm bluffing, don't you, Sheriff?" Dave gave an edgy chuckle, "Just because my son is an underpaid city employee, doesn't mean I am. I'm more of the self-made millionaire type. My company deals heavily in government contracts, that's why I was able to recognize your sleazy politician moves so easily." He tapped the jerk's computer screen. "Google my name and seismic retrofitting."

"Let's cut through the bullshit, shall we? We both know it will be a media circus if word gets out that we're honoring a gay hero, so what do you want from me, Sanders?"

"Hold up a minute." Though he felt increasingly foolish for falling for the Sheriff's con, Nick pushed beyond his ego and said, "The only thing that matters to me is Cassie's happiness, so I'd like to have some time alone with Dave to discuss her needs."

Grateful for the break, the Sheriff stood and pointed to his office door. "Go, I'll be here when you're done chatting."

---

"Nick barely said two words to me before he left." Roy therapeutically ran his finger's through Chico's coat as he sat on the family room floor talking to Greg. "Bobby's totally freaked. He's probably at home thinking I'm not worth this BS."

"I really doubt that," Greg countered while stretching out on the couch and yawning. "You really care about him that much?"

"Yeah." Roy smiled at the dog. "Bobby is my front porch swing."

"Your front porch swing?"

"Whenever life would get too crazy or stressful back home, I'd head out to the front porch and sit on the swing. I'd stay there until I chilled out."

---

"I thought the fresh air might do us both some good," Dave commented as he led the way across the street to the city park. "Do you want a bottle of water?" He pointed. "There's a vendor."

"No, thanks." Nick's stomach knotted as memories of agonizing lectures from his father surfaced.

"How's this bench?" It was in a semi-private spot.

Nick answered by taking a seat and beating Dave to the punch. "I realize I looked like a clueless idiot in there, so you don't have to bother pointin' it out. I missed every ounce of bullshit he was serving and you must think I'm the least intuitive CSI on the planet at this point. I fell for it all, and I bet you're wonderin' how your genius son is even compatible with a guy that slow on the uptake or how he could be content with someone who will never afford the stuff he grew up with."

"Is that what your father would be telling you right now?"

"No, the judge would have used a hell of a lot less words to make the same point."

"Look at me, Nick," Dave waited until he made eye contact. "You got conned by the Sheriff because you don't think like a self-centered prick. In the business world, I wouldn't hire you for that reason, but as far as son-in-law's go, I'd rather my boy be married to someone with a Texas-sized heart, not ego." Patting him on the back, he smiled, "If it weren't for you, and the work you do, we wouldn't have to discuss what's best for Cassie, because she would be dead. Yeah, I'm wealthy, but I'd argue your life is richer than mine in a lot of ways. Okay?"

"I…" Nick momentarily lost his words. "Wow, you looked out for me in the meeting and you didn't rip me to shreds for bein' dense. Thank you, that's more than I ever got from my own father, who would have sympathized with the Sheriff for having to deal with an unwanted gay issue."

"Anytime you need a father's opinion, help, love, money, anything, please know you can come to me."

His eyes welling, Nick glanced at the grass. "Thank you, I really appreciate it." The mention of money reminded him that he still had the keys to The Freyja. "Before I forget." He dangled the keys.

"Hold onto them, it's your wedding gift. I just didn't bother to mention that detail earlier."

"What?" Nick looked up. "I can't accept a half-million dollar boat as a gift. That's too much, way too much."

"We don't need it. Cassie is never going on it, not after what she's been through on a boat on a lake. She wouldn't even go to the big party her classmate's family is having at the lake today. It's not like it's leaving the family if I give it to you and Greg." Dave smiled, "And The Freyja is a sentimental place for the two of you since it was the location of your first time…" he winked, "on vacation together."

"Yeah," Nick glanced away chuckling, "I'll never forget that first vacation."

"That's one thing settled, but what are we going to do about Cassie and the ceremony?"

"I don't want Cassie to miss out on what she was promised, but I also don't want the whole thing to turn into a political circus, because I know from dealin' with my sister that things can turn ugly when you incite her kind. Greg and I have made some real progress at work since the incident at the hospital, I don't need it to get uncomfortable for us again."

"Those are all very good points."

"Yeah, but that thing you said about the payoff to the James family compared to 5,000 bucks for riskin' my life, that really hit home. That payoff did so much damage to Greg's peace of mind, so it really pissed me off when you put it all in perspective. Kind of like today when you said they won't let Greg take his firearms test, but they'll let him keep going into the field even though he's supposedly dangerous. We are underpaid, overworked fools, and that's hard to reconcile, even though I love my job and don't want to stop givin' a voice to victims like Cassie. Maybe you're right, maybe Greg and I should quit and get better, safer jobs."

"You don't have to do that," Dave counseled. "If you love what you do, you're not going to be happy working in a corporate lab for money-hungry CEOs like me. What I'd like to suggest is this...knowing you have me as a financial safety net, don't be afraid to speak up and get demanding. If they fire you, which they won't, because the last thing those people want is a discrimination lawsuit, you know you have a soft place to land. You've never had that before, now you do."

---

"I'm new to this," Sara told the health store sales clerk, Belinda, after several agonizing minutes. "And while the graphic details of your childbirth experiences, including the average number of episiotomy stitches you endured, are very informative, they're a little more than this newbie can handle right now. So, if you could just give me a bottle of pre-natal vitamins and take my money, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks."

"OH! I get it." Tucking her bouncy blonde hair behind her ears, Belinda smiled at the squeamish woman. "You get nervous around blood, huh?

"Yes," Sara lied, "I've been known to faint at the sight of a paper cut."

Walking to the appropriate shelf, the clerk tried to allay the woman's fears. "Don't worry, they'll put a sheet over you and you don't have to watch. I asked for a big mirror because I wanted to enjoy the miracle of my child's birth right along with my husband. Is your husband squeamish too? Or will he be up to snapping pictures of the whole thing?"

"No, snapping photos of blood and guts isn't really my husband's thing." Hoping to avoid the bubbly baby goddess in the future, Sara handed over her Visa card. "Give me enough vitamins to last the entire pregnancy."

***

Chapter 30: Family Business – Part 2

"The Sheriff called you to his office to personally promote you?" Since the man hated him, Greg felt both excited for his partner and a little jealous.

"No." Still aggravated, Nick twisted open a cold bottle of water and threw the cap on the kitchen counter. "The bastard called us down there to inform us there wouldn't be an award ceremony for Cassie's essay. He tried to buy us off with a gift card and scholarship money for Cass, and a lame title-only promotion for me and a bonus of five grand."

"Why no ceremony?"

"They found out I'm gay and suddenly their PR wet dream turned into a political nightmare." Seeing his cousin working in the backyard, Nick walked to the sliding glass door.

"Cassie's going to be crushed."

"I'm goin' over to your parents' house in an hour to discuss it with her." Nick pointed out back. "Did you tell him to do yard work to suck up to me?"

"No, I was asleep on the couch until you came through the front door."

"Whenever us kids got in trouble at home, we always did yard work to get on my Dad's good side." Facing his partner, Nick sighed, "In my last therapy session, Dr. Henry explained that we did that because we knew my father's love was conditional, not unconditional. We had to be in his good graces for him to love us. I don't want my kids thinkin' I'll only love 'em if they're perfect."

"Luckily you have a little time to practice your parenting skills on the guinea pig in the backyard."

"I thought you said Roy was too old for me to parent?"

"After talking to him, I realized I was wrong. He's looking for a Daddy in all the wrong places."

"So my thinking was right, but my approach sucked, and your thinking was wrong, but you had a good approach?" Nick chuckled, "So, alone neither of us make the best dad, but together we'll be great."

"Yep." Greg opened the backdoor. "Now go talk to him…calmly."

---

"I wanted to strangle the bastard, Jan!" Dave shouted as he paced the kitchen, "This is the third god damn time he's screwing with my family and it's far from a charm!"

"Now I know why you wanted Tawny to take the girls to the store." Outraged by the news that the award ceremony was canceled, the PFLAG warrior wasn't about to stay silent. "We can't let them get away with this."

"Nick doesn't want Cassie caught in the middle of a political drama. He says there's a group in Vegas that spends all their spare time protesting everything gay. He thinks they'll use the event to cause problems for everyone involved."

"I think Cassie's innocence is long gone. She already knows mean people exist and the world is a very unfair place, so I don't see the point of sheltering her from it now, especially when it comes at her expense. And do we really want to teach her that gay heroes aren't worthy of public recognition, only private thank-yous?"

"Do we really want to put her through more stress?"

"Like she isn't going to be upset when she finds out she won the contest, but isn't entitled to the prize?"

"I know, I know." Gripping the counter, he shook his head, "But she specifically said she wanted to go to a new school where no one looked at her funny. We moved her across town for a fresh start. If she becomes 'the girl with the gay hero' whose face is plastered on every newspaper and TV for a day, she'll be the kid that people look at funny again."

"I think there's a difference between being looked at funny for something tragic and beyond your control and being looked at funny for standing up for your rights and the rights of your hero and your brother."

"Nick's coming over in an hour to talk it through with her. He said she hates being babied and wouldn't appreciate us making a decision for her."

"What's there to decide if the Mayor and Governor still won't hold the ceremony?"

"We still have the option of telling the Sheriff that we're taking things public if Cassie is denied what she was promised."

"Wouldn't that cause problems for Nick and Greg at work?"

"Yeah, that's why my balls feel like they're in a vice. Either Cassie gets hurt to protect Nick and Greg, or the boys get hurt to get Cassie what she earned." The frustrated father sighed, "Nick and Greg may think they were each other's first times, but the truth is they've both been bending over and getting royally screwed by the Sheriff's Office for years."

Flooding with anger, Jan vented, "I guess our children need to gang up and kill innocent people before they get any sympathy in this town. Unbelievable! Sweet little Cassie isn't entitled to tea and cookies with the Governor, but Mrs. James has 2.4 mil in her bank account for her boy's evil deeds. Am I supposed to believe that Nicky is more of an embarrassment to this County than Demetrius James?" Shaking with anger, she vowed, "There's no way in hell that I'm going to sit idly by and let this happen."

---

"I'm really sorry about what happened," Roy contritely apologized to his cousin without making eye contact. Standing in the backyard holding a hedge clipper, he said, "It was really disrespectful to break the rules and then try to get off on a technicality. Yeah, Bobby is your friend, but when you said you didn't want me bringin' people you didn't know home, it meant that you expected to know who I was hangin' out with under your roof. It won't happen again, I promise." He continued groveling as Nick remained silent. "I mowed the lawn, did the edges, and now I'm trimmin' up the trees and bushes for ya. And hey…if ya want me to find my own place, all you have to do is say the word and I'll…"

"You're not movin' anywhere." Nick removed the hedge clippers from his cousin's hand.

Roy joked, "You're not like gonna chop me up and dispose of my body in a way only a CSI can, are ya?"

"No," Nick tossed the clippers on the ground, "I wanted to hug ya and say I love you and I always will, no matter what you do." He gave him a bear hug. "My love is unconditional, but that doesn't mean I'll always approve of what you're doing or that you get a free pass to do whatever the hell you want."

Relieved to know he was still welcome, the knot in Roy's stomach started to unwind.

"Let's sit by the pool and have a little talk." Nick led the way and took a seat at the patio table. "I'm sorry that I didn't let you explain things earlier. I was upset for several reasons and I honestly didn't get what you were sayin' about bein' in a relationship with Bobby, but hittin' the restroom stall scene whenever you like. I'm old fashioned," he smiled, poking fun at himself, "I was raised believin' guys either choose to get into a relationship, or they devote themselves to gettin' as much action as possible with no strings attached. I have a hard time wrappin' my head around doin' both simultaneously."

"I'm hardly the only guy with that type of arrangement."

"That doesn't mean it's good for you," Nick countered while leaning into the conversation. "I know this may sound hypocritical, but gettin' it on with virtual strangers didn't bring me anything but instant gratification. I know now that you can't fill the emptiness in your life with meaningless sex and expect to feel less alone."

"With all due respect, Cuz, I'm 20, not 35. You can't compare yourself to me now, think back to when you were my age."

"You know I've been thinkin' about that kind of question a lot actually, because I'm lookin' to have kids and I'll be havin' this kind of talk with them someday." Trying to find the right words, Nick said, "Keepin' it real I'm gonna say that I don't think it's wise to marry too young, but I can't imagine not gettin' intimate with someone if I was gonna wait until after 25 to get married."

"So what would you do?"

"I'd test the waters and fool around with people I was interested in, but I'd wait to have sex until I was in a relationship with someone I totally trusted and honestly loved, because sex with a personal connection is much better."

"Are you honestly sayin' sex can't be spectacular without love? Because I'd argue that until you got with Greg you were a repressed gay man havin' sex with girls, so of course it felt like somethin' was missin'." A former High School Debate Club President who was raised among politicians, Roy skillfully retorted, "The only guy you've slept with is Greg, so how can you tell if it's the love or the fact you're finally sleepin' with someone you're actually hardwired to enjoy?"

Thrown off balance by the rebuttal, Nick quickly changed the subject, "Did you ask to change your major to Hospitality Management because it's your passion, or because you liked workin' at a resort full of hot guys?"

"I'll honestly answer that question right after you honestly answer the one I asked you."

Nick cleared his throat before replying, "Speakin' as a Scientist, no, I can't technically prove that it's love or being with a guy, because both changes occurred simultaneously, but I can confidently say that being monogamous enhances the sexual experience over time because you get to know your partner and build on your knowledge of each other as you go along. A one night stand is what it is and then it's over."

"Okay." Roy nodded, "The hot guys and unlimited access to hotel rooms were a factor when I asked to switch my major."

"Do you have any idea how vicious casino management is around here? I don't think you do, because you had Lily shelterin' you from the greedy bastards."

"True."

"How about you stay put as a science major until you can pick a major with your brain instead of your pecker?"

"Okay," Roy laughed.

"Now help me understand what's goin' on with Bobby."

"Bobby's a great guy. I can relax and be my old self around him, and he makes a great BBQ."

"But…"

"But he works nights Monday through Friday plus overtime and he's not always up for stuff." Glancing at the pool, Roy quietly said, "But I really like hangin' out with him, especially at his place, because it feels like bein' back home…without the judgmental bullshit of course. You shouldn't be pissed at him, he takes really good care of me."

"Is there a chance he's fillin' the void from you bein' kicked out at home and in return for him takin' really good care of you, you're feelin' obligated to give him somethin' back…in the middle of my family room among other places?"

"It's not like that."

"But…" Nick patiently waited for the next blank to be filled.

"But then I started goin' out when he was workin'," the young man confessed, "and then last week at The Tangiers I went through a bartender, a couple of waiters, a dancer on tour with some D-list diva…and two guys from the cast of The Boys from Down Under. The content country boy kinda got carried away and fell back into his old habits."

"The same habits you tearfully told me you were tired of when you first got here."

"Yeah."

"Did you use when you were workin' at the Tangiers?"

After gulping the rising lump in his throat, Roy answered, "Twice, because it was shoved in my face and I was too caught up in the scene to think about what I was doin'."

Nick reminded himself to stay calm. "Here's an idea, how about you swear off the party scene, break things off with Bobby since you know he's not givin' you everything you need, and then focus on goin' to school and meetin' a guy you're compatible with who gives you that down home feel and sense of security while keepin' up with you and your schedule?"

"Hell, if I had that guy's phone number I'd call him, believe me, but I'm not sure he exists except in theory. You have no idea what it's like out there."

"No, but I feel confident saying you won't find your dream guy hangin' out in a bathroom stall at The Tangiers." Nick held out his palm. "If you want to stay here, I you need to hand over your fake ID and if you have more than one, I want all of 'em. And until these months roll by and you turn 21, you're not drinkin' in this house. I'm not even gonna keep beer in the kitchen fridge."

Silently appreciative of the tough love, Roy grabbed his wallet from his jeans. "I only have one fake ID."

"Do you need to go to rehab?"

"No, definitely not." Roy adamantly shook his head. "It's just a stupid club habit. I swear. You can test me anytime goin' forward."

"Okay." Nick stood up and opened his arms. "Now I'm gonna give ya a hug and let you get back to work, because you were doin' a great job. I'm happy that you feel like part of the family to the point where you jump at the chance to pitch in and take care of your home without me even askin' you."

---

"Do you know where the step ladder is?" Sara asked her husband who was about to nod off in bed reading a magazine. "UPS just delivered the curtains I ordered online last week and I want to hang them up."

Tossing back the comforter, Gil said, "You and the UPS delivery guy must be best friends by now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Has a day gone by without a delivery?"

"I realized I had been neglecting my catalog shopping habit for over a year now, so I'm making up for lost time." Smirking, she appealed to her husband's baby obsession, "They refer to it as nesting in the pregnancy books."

"Exactly how are curtains, pens, organic shampoo, gourmet dog biscuits, and a robe helping you prepare the baby's nest?"

"Is this about the money?" she queried, knowing it wasn't.

"No, Sara, it's about you not having a life beyond Bruno, me, and these walls. I thought you were quitting the lab, not life." Frustrated and worried, he counseled, "Didn't your therapist suggest you find something productive to do with your time? She specifically said she didn't want you trapped in the house."

"Being a CSI, a hermit, and your significant other are the only things I've done in the last decade." Her vulnerability peering through, she quietly said, "I'm just doing what I know until I know what to do."

Realizing he had pushed enough for the day, Gil pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I miss you at the lab. I still get up from my desk to go look for you." Caressing her hair, he whispered, "Honey, I just never imagined us not working together."

---

"I don't want you to get in trouble at work." Sitting under a shade tree in her backyard, Cassie told her hero, "I wrote the letter so everyone would know how great you are, I never thought it would cause problems."

"And you haven't caused me any problems. I'm not in trouble, they just don't want the publicity."

"What about you? Are you afraid of everyone finding out you're gay if you get an award at City Hall?"

"No," Nick answered, unsure if he believed himself. "I just don't want to cause you or Greg any extra grief. There's this group here in town that shows up protestin' all things gay. They even show up at funerals of gay people if they're bein' held in a church. One time it was the funeral of a military hero, a guy who did way more heroic things than me."

After a moment of silence, Cassie confidently said, "I don't know about Greg, but I'm tough. If a reporter or protestor says something bad at City Hall, I'll handle it just fine."

"I'm sure you would, honey." Taking her hand, Nick quietly said, "But do we really want to have the moment ruined by a bunch of people lookin' for a heated debated or a way to make the Mayor or Governor look bad?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"When I was pissed at my dad and brother, I told Greg I wanted to go public in Dallas and get married at this gay church there to make a political statement. He disagreed and said he didn't want our special day to become a politically charged public event. He was totally right, and that's how I feel about the hero essay. I don't want to see somethin' so special be ruined and tainted with bad memories. You and I have enough bad memories in our minds already, why go lookin' for more, right?"

Cassie nodded as she pondered.

"And you know what, I am a little afraid," Nick confessed, "but not about people findin' out I'm gay. I'm afraid to put myself or you in the spotlight, because it will make us targets. Like you, I can handle bein' a target of bad words. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words aren't gonna hurt me. What I'm worried about is some whackjob really comin' out of the woodwork and really hurtin' one of us. One time I was written up in this newsletter and a total stranger became obsessed with me. I don't want to scare you, but I know you don't want to be babied."

"That's right." She desperately tried not to cry.

"We've both been kidnapped and left for dead, and Greg's been beaten within an inch of his life already. I just don't think it's wise to put ourselves in a position of controversy. Greg hasn't even stopped looking over his shoulder from the last time his face was on TV. There are people who still blame him and hate him for killin' Demetrius James." Tearing up with her, he sadly shared, "I know that life shouldn't be this way and maybe I'm bein' paranoid because of what's happened to us in the past, but my gut is tellin' me life is great for all of us right now and we shouldn't take a chance. It's the same gut that told me you were alive and waitin' for me to find you, so I'm inclined to listen to it."

"Me too."

He pulled her close. "You won that contest fair and square, honey, so you shouldn't feel like you failed in any way. This is about us choosing not to be used as pawns in a political game that could end up hurtin' us. Instead we're gonna stay focused on what's really important – the bond we formed that night at the lake and every day since." Smiling as his eyes got glassy, Nick sweetly said, "And why would I want the Governor givin' me a medal when I can have you puttin' it around my neck? The Governor means nothin' to me, but you mean the world."

"You're right." She tried to toughen up. "We don't need a bunch of jerks ruining a good thing."

"There you go."

"Do you still want me to read the essay to you?"

"Absolutely."

"When?"

Feeling the timing was right, Nick began, "I know you missed a classmate's big party today. Dave also shared that you don't ever want to go on a boat or in the ocean."

"What does that have to do with my essay?" she asked, her emotions building once again.

"It makes me sad to think of you fearin' water for the rest of your life. You're missin' out on fun with friends today, and you'll be missin' out on a ton in the future – swimmin' in the waves, goin' to Catalina island on The Freyja, takin' a cruise. You used to be on the swim team, I know you'd love to boogie board in the ocean with me and Greg this summer." He glanced over and saw her desperately trying not to cry. "The lake isn't a bad place, Cass. The people who took you there were bad. The water isn't something to fear, it's meant to be enjoyed. Do you really want to let bad people keep you away from the water for the rest of your life? Bad people who already took way too much from you."

"No," she sniffled, "but I'm not ready."

"Sweetie, it's already been almost two years, and the longer you wait, the worse it's gonna get. Come on, don't give those guys another day of power over you."

"I can't."

He tried a different approach, "Remember when I told you a babysitter did somethin' real bad to me when I was little?"

She nodded as her tears flowed.

"I didn't tell you any details, but I'll tell you this one thing – it happened in my treehouse. I loved that treehouse, but I let what happened there ruin it for me." Picturing his backyard, he said, "I told my folks that I decided I was too big for it, and they thought I was just tryin' to act like my big brother, so they never suspected a thing. One day, about three years later, I got the nerve to climb up there again. I thought I would feel scared when I got to the top of the ladder and looked inside, but I didn't."

"How did you feel?" she asked, accepting the tissues being offered from Nick's shirt pocket.

"Angry at myself for stayin' away from my favorite place for so long. Yeah, one terrible thing happened to me there, but what about all the great times?" He smiled at the memory of his grandfather squeezing in the little doorway to hang out with him. "My grandpa and I had a ball up there. You woulda loved him, he told the best stories and we'd read Spiderman comics together." He wiped his tears.

"My family used to go on picnics at the lake."

"One of the best ways to honor their memory is to go on livin' and doin' the things they'd want you to do. They'd be sad if they knew you were missin' out on fun because of what those bad people did. They loved watchin' you swim, Cass. I know because your mom took a ton of pictures of you in the water. Right?"

"Yeah, she choked up, "she would watch me for hours."

"You once said we could accomplish anything together, well…I think we can face this together and handle it." Pulling her close, he whispered, "The medal and a copy of your essay is on the backseat of my truck in a big white envelope. How about we drive out to the lake, you read it to me there, and we take back somethin' those guys took from you? Do you think you can do that?"

"With you," Cassie threw her arms around him, "yes."

---

"No, I really don't mind," Greg assured Roy while pulling a 12-pack of beer from the fridge. "Nick and I are trying to drink less anyway, so not having booze in the house will make that easier." He snickered, "We'll decompress from work in more creative ways."

The chime of the doorbell made both men jump.

Assuming it was the neighbor complaining, Greg turned to Roy, "Dude, did you have music blasting out of the patio speakers when you were working in the yard?"

"No, I had your MP3 player on."

They both hurried to the front door.

"It's only Mandy," Greg announced upon peering through the peephole. "I wonder why she's here." He opened the door. "Hey, Little Momma."

"CSI Sanders, just who I was looking for." Mandy smiled at her coworker and then waved at Roy. "Good to see you again too." She had fallen platonically in love with him at Greg's birthday party.

"Yeah, same here." Roy returned the wave. "Are ya gonna treat us to another heart-felt karaoke performance?" Her drunken solo at Greg's birthday party had left him in stitches.

"I'm never singing in public again, unless there's a gun to my head." Mandy shook her head at the brawny and beautiful young man before her. "Do you ever have a bad hair day, handsome?"

"Just about never," the appearance-conscious guy replied with a wink. "Okay, I'll let the two of you talk shop while I do laundry."

Mandy yelled after the stud, "I hope you have to wash the fitted t-shirt you're wearing and don't have a spare!"

"Thanks for remindin' me," Roy laughed as he tugged the shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly bronzed chest and six pack. "That's better."

"I'll say," Mandy giggled.

"Enough with the flirting," Greg shook his finger at his housemate. "She's with child, and you're a solid 6 on the Kinsey scale, it's a waste of time and energy for both of you."

"We'll always have this foyer, Roy!" Mandy fanned herself as the stud sauntered down the hall laughing.

"What brings you here at this hour, ya big hussy?" Greg informed his co-worker, "I'd be sleeping if we didn't have the night off."

"Same here." The weekend shift had asked to swap one Monday for a Saturday every quarter and this was the week. "I came here to tell you I caught you red handed, Sanders." She pulled the dusted envelope from her purse. "You left prints, genius."

"I knew you'd print it." Waving her to follow him, he laughed, "Which one of us geeks wouldn't use science to find out who sent a mystery envelope?"

"Wendy." Mandy tossed her purse and keys on the oak entry table. "She assumed it was Hodges and asked him out to dinner tonight to thank him." She batted her eyelashes. "She's at home with the phones turned off getting the maximum amount of beauty rest right."

Walking into the kitchen, Greg shared his theory, "She probably just wants to be rested so she can deal with him without ripping her hair out."

"Are you guys having a party?" Beer and liquor bottles were cluttering the counter.

"Already did," he fibbed, not wanting to explain the real reason for the display, "but don't feel left out, it was queers only. Nothing kinky though."

"Surrrre." Sighing, she plopped down on a stool, "Right now Henry is flying to Florida to spend some quality time with his mommy and break the news about the pregnancy to his grandmother."

"That sounds like fun…not." Greg realized he wasn't being a good host. "Want something to drink? I have juice, ice water, lowfat milk and…actually that's all I have that's decaf and non-alcoholic."

"Ice water would be great. It's hot out there." She slid off the stool. "But I need to use your powder room before I gulp a cold glass of liquid."

"Remember where it is?"

"Yep, be right back."

"Wait!" Greg cracked his joke when she turned around. "I just remembered that we're using the sink to sterilize all the sex toys from party night, so…" Failing to keep a straight face, he broke out laughing. "Is that disappointment I see in your eyes, Mandy Lynn?"

"Oh please, I doubt there's a toy made that I haven't dusted for prints." She resumed walking. "After working in Sin City, nothing shocks me."

While his friend hurried to the bathroom, Greg rushed to tidy up the area.

"Hey, Greg!" In need of more laundry soap, Roy walked into the kitchen holding an empty Tide bottle. "Do we have any more of this stuff?"

"Yeah, in the hall closet next to the bathroom."

"Cool."

As Roy zipped out of the room, Greg checked the time and wondered if Nick was at the lake yet. No matter how good or bad the plan went, he knew Nick would be coming home emotionally spent. "What now?" he asked when his housemate rushed back into the room.

"Dude, when I was grabbing the soap from the closet I could hear Mandy was upset in the bathroom and right when I was gonna ask if she was okay, I heard a thud. She's not answering."

"Are you serious?" Greg raced out of the room. "Mandy?" When he reached the bathroom door, he knocked on it with his fist. "Mandy? Are you okay?"

"I told ya." Roy asked, "Do you think she's jokin' with us?"

"Not about something like this." Greg grabbed the skeleton key from atop the hall closet frame. "Mandy, I'm opening the door and if this is a prank, it's totally not funny." When the door opened, he saw his friend on the floor. "What the..." She was unresponsive on the floor and blood was pouring from her right temple. "Call 911!"

"I'm on it!"

Grabbing a hand towel, Greg rushed to her side. "Mandy, can you hear me?" After checking her breathing, he applied pressure to the wound. "Mandy! It's Greg, can you hear me?"

Roy returned with the cordless phone to his ear. "I've got 911. They want to know if she's breathing."

"Yes, and her pulse is strong and steady. I'm pretty sure it's just a deep gash, not a skull fracture, but we can't take any chances."

After relaying the information, Roy asked, "How pregnant is she?"

"Uh…" Trying to think clearly under pressure, Greg answered, "She got pregnant about three weeks before my birthday, which is May 7th and it's June…just tell them she conceived around the middle of April and let them do the math. And tell them she's LVPD!" Kicking into CSI mode, Greg frantically scanned the bathroom until he found the source of impact. "She hit her head on the corner of the towel rack. Do you remember anything she said when you overheard her? Was she cursing like she hit the towel rack and then…"

"No, she was kinda cryin' and breathin' hard and then I heard her say 'oh God' and then 'no, please, don't' right before the thud."

Suddenly panicked that someone was hiding behind the shower curtain, Greg waved Roy to take over applying pressure." Don't move her at all, especially her head or neck." After a deep breath, he jumped to his feet and yanked the curtain back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Roy yelled.

"I thought maybe someone was in here threatening her!" But the window was locked and thankfully the shower was empty. "Why would she say 'no, please don't?" Now that he was standing up and looking down at Mandy's body, he got his answer. "Look." He pointed to her khaki trousers. "There's blood on the crotch of her pants. I'd guess she realized she was bleeding when she went to the bathroom and started to panic, then she fainted and hit her head on the towel rack on the way down." He knelt down beside her and gently took over for Roy. "Go out front and wait for the cops and the ambulance."

"You got it."

When he saw Mandy's eyes fluttering open, Greg warned, "Stay still. You fainted and hit your head in the bathroom."

Scared and confused, she reached out. "I'm…I…"

"Shhh." Hiding his concern, Greg smiled and soothed, "It'll be okay."

---

"No," Cassie answered while staring at the lake from the safety of Nick's truck. "I'm not ready, but I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Alright then." Nick opened his door, stepped out, and scanned the remote area while walking to open the passenger door. "I picked this spot, because it's real pretty and there's usually no one here." He took her hand as she jumped out. "I've come here a lot over the years, whenever I needed to clear my head or remind myself there's still some beauty left in this ugly world."

Nervously scanning the intimidating boulders, swaying trees, and tall grass, Cassie worked up the nerve to take even a baby step toward the water's edge.

"Want me to show you my favorite spot?" Nick sweetly asked. "It's an easy walk on those flat rocks over there."

After jumping from the sound of a hawk's overhead shrill, she nodded. "Just don't let go."

I'm still here!" Greg yelled when Mandy lost sight of him as she was loaded into the ambulance. Following protocol for a head trauma and a fall, the EMTs had her in a neck brace and secured to a back board. "I'm coming with you, don't worry." He knew all too well how scary it was to be bleeding, confused, and restrained in the back of an ambulance. "Try to stay calm."

"I got your keys!" Roy held them out and turned around to make sure he shut the front door.

"They said I could ride with her, so follow us and meet me there."

"Should I call Nick?"

"No, definitely not." In case Cassie was in the middle of an emotional breakthrough, he didn't want to interrupt.

---

You're doin' great, honey." Sitting across from her on a smooth, flat rock at the water's edge, he grabbed the wad of tissues he had stuffed in his pocket.

"I'm not crying," Cassie stated, trying to prove she could face her fears without falling apart.

"I know, they're for me." Smiling he handed over the envelope with her essay. "Honey, you know I wear my heart on my sleeve, so what are the odds of me makin' it through you reading that without a tear?" Especially since, unbeknownst to her, he had a chance to preview it when his father showed him the copy she'd sent him.

"Good point." The smile that popped up on her face surprised her. "I'm smiling by the lake. I never thought that would happen again."

"When we come back the next time with the whole family, we'll stop and rent jet skis. That's a guaranteed great time. I'll take you for a wild ride and have you laughing like crazy. And sittin' on the back of a jet ski is somethin' Jenni can do really well even without all her leg strength back." He appealed to Cassie's competitive spirit, "We'll race her and Greg."

"You mean we'll leave them in our wake."

"Now we're talkin'!" He raised his palm for a high-five while laughing with her.

"Okay, I'm ready to read my essay." She slipped it out of the envelope. "Got your tissues, Tex?"

Holding up the Kleenex, he smiled, "Go for it."

With shaky hands, Cassie held the lined paper. "When my teacher, Ms. Martin, announced in class that the Governor was looking for the biggest hero in Nevada, I instantly knew who it was. His name is Nick Stokes and he works as a CSI for the Las Vegas Police Department and I first saw him when I opened my eyes in the back of an ambulance. While the EMTs gave me oxygen and warmed me up, Nick was holding my hand and telling me I was going to be okay. I didn't know who he was, but looking into his eyes, I believed him."

Closing his eyes, Nick thought back to the moment being described.

"You're probably wondering how I ended up in the ambulance, so I'll tell you, even though it's really hard for me to think about it."

---

"Think positive, Mandy." Holding her hand in the back of the ambulance, Greg tried to bolster his panicked friend's confidence. "Lots of women have spotting or bleeding during the first trimester and don't lose their babies."

"What would you know about women's bodies," she cried, "you're gay!"

When Kevin, the uber-jock EMT, stopped watching Mandy's vitals to gape at him, Greg said, "Talk about a textbook awkward moment, huh?"

"Yeah," the EMT replied through a smile, "Wanna give me your phone number?"

Stunned by the question, Greg replied, "Dude, did you just ask for my digits while rendering aid?" He couldn't decide if he was more shocked about the guy's unprofessionalism or that he got hit on by a Greek god in an EMT uniform.

"Sorry." The EMT refocused on his patient. "That was tacky. I should have waited to ask him until we got to the hospital, but he seems like a really nice guy and I'm tired of dating self absorbed jerks who only want me for my perfect body."

Floored by the reply, Mandy snapped, "And calling your body perfect and thinking of your own love life while you're supposed to be taking care of me isn't self-absorbed?" She couldn't wait to break the jock's bubble. "Anyway, he's taken, and his partner is the greatest guy."

---

"If you think I believe Nick is a hero because of everything I just described about my rescue, you're wrong." Cassie glanced up and smiled when she saw her hero was already on his second tissue. "When I was in the hospital recovering, I thought he was a hero for saving my life, but when Nick came to visit, he explained that trying to solve the mystery of my family's disappearance and finding me was just him doing his job."

"I love it, honey." Nick encouraged her with a nod.

"I'm just getting to the most important part." Cassie excitedly resumed, "In movies, when superheroes show up and rescue a person from a bad guy, they usually place the person somewhere safe and then disappear to fight crime somewhere else. The same thing is true about lots police officers and firefighters, they save someone and then get back into their cars or trucks to help the next person. Nick is my hero, because after he saved my life and caught the bad guys who killed my family, he did something even more amazing – he didn't disappear, he stayed in my life and saved me all over again."

Even though Nick knew that it was best for Cassie to be living with two experienced parents and a girl close to her age, sitting there listening to the love in her words and voice, he couldn't help but feel some regret for not adopting her himself.

"When I was alone and scared in the hospital, he held my hand and opened up his heart. He told me he understood just how I felt, because like me, he had been kidnapped and almost died before being found. Because we shared something terrible in common, he knew it was easiest for me to talk to him, so he told my social workers that he would come whenever they called. He went to my family's funeral and held me as I cried." Choking up from the painful memory, she paused.

"If it's too difficult to…"

"No." She took a breath and continued, determined to honor her savior, "When I was placed in foster care, Nick came by to visit and make sure it was a safe place for me to be. And when I didn't have a parent left to come to school on career day, Nick showed up with all his cool CSI stuff and made me feel special for the first time since losing my family and my home. That probably seems like enough good deeds for one hero, but Nick didn't stop there. He took me to the father-daughter Girl Scout dance, volunteered in my classroom once a month, and took me out for some fun, he even taught me how to ride a horse! (He's from Texas, so he's a cowboy and rides really well). And just when I thought he had done more than enough, he did something miraculous – he found a family to adopt me so I wouldn't have to spend six more years in foster care."

Nick's regret over not adopting her faded, as she spoke happily about her new home and family.

"The day I disappeared, Nick Stokes was a CSI. When he found me, he became a local hero, but when he stayed and cared about me when no one else did, he became MY hero. If there were more guys like Nick in the world, I have no doubt it would be a much better place. I think he should win your contest hands down, but if he doesn't, he'll always be my biggest hero, and knowing Nick, he'd say that's all that matters. Thank you for reading my essay. Sincerely, Cassie McBride."

With tears in her eyes, Cassie pulled the hero medal from the envelope and placed it over Nick's head. "Thank you for saving me ten times over. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie." Hugging her tight, he whispered, "The medal is cool, but my biggest reward is gettin' to see you doin' a little better every day."

"And now that we're family, we'll always be a part of each others lives." Smiling as she wiped the dampness from her face, she said, "It's kind of funny to think I'm your sister-in-law, because it's felt like you were my dad for a while."

"I've felt that way too," he replied, regret edging into his voice.

"When you and Greg become parents, your kid will have two fathers in its life, so I think I can have two father-figures in mine."

Watching Cassie stare at the lake, Nick's smile rivaled the afternoon sun's intensity. "I'm so proud of you for comin' out here and facin' your fear head on."

"It's beautiful here." Turning to face her hero, she said, "You were right, I was letting them win."

"It's hard not to when someone's terrified you. I almost quit my job a dozen times before I realized that would be letting my kidnapper have the last laugh."

"If you had quit, I wouldn't be here."

"I believe everything happens for a reason, even bad stuff."

"I don't know about that."

Watching a bird swoop down over the water, Nick said, "After my grandma died in a car wreck, my grandpa told me 'It's hard to make sense of the bad stuff, but only because we're not privy to the bigger picture. We're all here for divine reasons, never stop believin' that.' Now, my grandma was the ultimate homemaker, right down to winning blue ribbons for her pies, and I loved her to pieces, but at fifteen years old, I couldn't think of any divine accomplishments she had made. So I asked my grandpa what he thought her divine work was, because even though her pies were delicious, I couldn't imagine bakin' would be God's work. He gave me an answer that didn't make sense when I was a teenager, but later on in life, it did. He said, 'Your grandmother has touched so many lives, we will never know all the great things happening now and in the future because of her time on Earth'."

She wanted to say she understood, but since she didn't, she kept quiet.

"It was my grandpa's voice keepin' me in the game when I was ready to quit. Because I didn't quit, I was around to save you, so my grandpa had a hand in you bein' saved too. And who knows what you'll accomplish in this lifetime, Cassie, but when you do, you won't be doin' it alone, everyone who has made an impact in your life, like your mom, dad, and brother, will be right there with you." Grabbing a stone, he skipped it across the water. "One action sets off a bunch, just like that stone made all those ripples. You gotta keep things goin', you gotta keep living. Your family lives through you now."

"I like that. I like that idea a lot." Watching the water move, a contented smile found her lips. "It reminds me of The Lion King."

"The Circle of Life."

"Weren't you a little old for that movie when it came out?"

"Are your forgettin' I'm an uncle sixteen times over? Every time I've been home that movie has been on." Nick gave her a playful shove. "Hakuna Matata."

She decided to test him, "And what does that mean?"

"It's a problem-free philosophy." Grinning, Nick lunged for another stone to skip. "No worries, everything's okay here'."

"Yeah." Cassie reached for a stone and launched across the water. "Hakuna Matata."

---

"Nobody around here seems to care about my baby." Mandy looked to Greg who was standing in the corner of her ER room. "Can you please tell him to care about my baby or find someone who does?"

The doctor continued focusing on the CT results he had just pulled up on the computer screen.

"He's a neurologist, not an OB." Realizing that she refused to absorb what the nurses had told her thus far, Greg gently tried to reason with her. "When we got here they explained that in the first trimester there is nothing they can do to stop a miscarriage if it's happening, so their first order of business is to make sure your head is okay, to rule out any bleeding under the skull that could be life threatening." Taking her hand, he squeezed it. "Okay?"

"No, Greg, it's not okay." Her eyes flooding, she pleaded with him, "I'm a scientist just like you, and I want a definitive answer. Am I or am I not losing my baby? That's all I want to know and then they can do whatever the hell they want to me."

"Okay, I'll go see if I can get someone else in here and I'll call your sister's cell phone again." He had already left two messages for her and two for Wendy, who he knew would probably be sleeping for at least another six hours.

"Thank you."

After patting Mandy's shoulder, Greg walked out of the room hoping to find someone who could give his friend good news. "Excuse me, nurse!" He hurried over to the petite brunette's side. "Hi, you helped Mandy get settled earlier. Well, we're still waiting for someone to check on the baby."

When Nurse Carly Adams saw the Neurologist exiting the patient's room, she informed the nervous father-to-be, "As soon as the ER doctor consults with Neuro she'll do the pelvic. She can't take a chance in moving or upsetting a patient with head trauma until the Neuro findings are conclusive. I know the wait is difficult, but it's for the best."

His rational mind telling him the answer was sound, Greg nodded, "Okay, thanks." When the nurse walked off he pulled out his cell to try Mandy's sister again, but struck out a third time. "Great, I didn't accomplish anything she wanted me to." Snapping the phone shut, he returned to the room with no news. "Sorry, they said you have to wait for the Neuro guy to tell the ER doc it's okay to move you. I know that answer sucks, but honestly, it is logical."

"I'm not really in a logical mood." Her frustration mounting, Mandy vented, "You're such a guy, Sanders."

"Sorry." Desperate to accomplish something, he reached for the TV remote. "Wanna watch something to take your mind off…"

"There isn't a show on TV that could possibly make me stop thinking of my baby."

"Right." He returned the remote to the bed. "Maybe I should drive over and wake up Wendy."

"And leave me alone?" she whimpered, "I can't be alone. My sister isn't answering her cell, Henry doesn't land for another two hours, and I don't want to deal with my mother."

"I don't want to leave, I just thought that it would be better if…"

"Finally!" Mandy exclaimed when she saw a nurse and another doctor. "Please tell me you're here to check on my baby."

"Yes, and to tell you that your CT was fine."

While the nurse proceeded to free the patient from a neck brace, the affable Indian doctor extended her hand to the anxious looking man in the room. "I'm Dr. Sonal Patel, not to be confused with two other Dr. Patels working here, also known as my father and brother."

"Greg Sanders, nice to meet you." He pointed to the bed. "I'm a friend of Mandy's." When he saw the doctor clock his wedding band, he said, "The baby's father has no idea this is going on, because the poor guy boarded a plane for Florida an hour ago, so I'm here filling in as the well meaning but unhelpful male in the room."

"She's all set for you, doctor," the nurse announced once the patient's feet were in the stirrups.

"I should go." Greg pointed to the door. "You don't want me here for this part, right, Mandy?"

"But don't go far, stay right outside."

"You got it." Grateful for the reprieve, he bolted and scanned the hall for Roy. "Hey!" He waved when he saw him at the coffee station.

"Any news?" Roy asked walking to meet him halfway.

"Her head's fine, but no news on the baby yet."

"Dude, I finally know exactly what I want to do with my life!"

"You wouldn't be the first person to have an epiphany in the hospital, I had several both times I was here, not that I ever did anything to follow through."

"Emergency medicine!" Roy excitedly explained, "See, I love science, but bein' trapped in a lab is way too monotonous for me."

"Tell me about it, I did it for years." Rubbing his temples, Greg yawned.

"But seein' those EMTs and then all the docs here, I got such a rush." The young man chuckled, "And a lot of the EMTs and doctors I've seen in this place are hot."

"I see you haven't totally lost sight of your physical priorities." Trying to take his mind off the crisis, Greg pointed to EMT Kevin who happened to be strolling down the hall with a Red Bull in hand. "He's gay and single."

"How do you know?"

Greg proudly declared, "He asked for my digits in the back of the ambulance. He said he was lookin' for a nice guy for a change of pace."

"Yeah," Roy laughed, "that's what every queer says right after gettin' dumped for someone younger, richer, and/or hotter."

"Mr. Sanders…"

When Greg turned around he knew from the somber look on the previously cheery doctor's face that the news wasn't good.

"Mandy is asking for you."

"Did she lose the baby?" He tensed after saying it out loud.

"Doctor/Patient confidentiality prohibits me from answering that question, so you'll have to ask her." She nodded while walking away. "Take care, Mr. Sanders."

Roy read between the lines, "She lost the baby."

"Yeah." Running his fingers through his hair, Greg worked up the nerve to return to his friend's side. "I don't know how long I'll be."

"Take your time, I'll be busy planning my future career."

"Nick will be psyched." His stomach churning, Greg walked across the hall and opened the door. "It's me." When he only got sobs in return he knew his suspicions were right. "I'm really sorry." Shutting the door behind him, he went to her side. "Can I get you anything? Do you need a blanket?" She was curled up under the sheets. "There's a blanket right over there." His nervous habit of overtalking kicked in. "When I was in the hospital, it was always freezing. The nice nurses would bring me blankets from the warmer, the nasty ones threw cold ones at me." He gently tucked the blanket around her. "How about some juice? When you spend quality time at the hospital you learn the nurses' station has a stash and you can get all the juice, applesauce, cookies, and crackers you want. I could go get…"

"Just stay here." She slipped her hand out from under the blanket and was relieved when he took it and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's hard to believe it's really happening, but then I can feel it happening and…"

Watching tears streaming out of his usually perky co-worker's eyes, a lump formed in Greg's throat. "I know this won't help you feel better right now, but about twenty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. I could go into all the genetic stuff, but I'm sure you're not in the mood for me in DNA geek mode, so I'll just say that what's happening now doesn't mean you can't have kids in the future, it was most likely a genetic fluke that occurred at fertilization and won't happen next time. My mom had miscarriages before she had me, so I'm living proof of the theory."

"Yeah, I know, the doctor already gave me that speech, but thanks for trying to make me feel better." Mandy wiped her eyes with the blanket to make room for fresh tears. "Now I know why my sister said I shouldn't have told anyone until I was twelve weeks. She had a miscarriage at seven weeks."

Grasping for something optimistic, Greg whispered, "Maybe the purpose of this pregnancy was to bring you and Henry together, so you can live happily ever after and have future babies together." When Mandy went from crying to bawling her eyes out, he realized his philosophical outlook didn't help.

"What if the baby was the only reason Henry wanted to be with me and he breaks up with me when he finds out?"

"No way," Greg assured her, "that guy has been pining after you for years. If anything, he'll probably panic that you were only with him because of the baby and think you're gonna dump him."

"But I love him."

"And he loves you, which is why everything will be okay."

"You think?"

"I know." Greg gently swiped her tear-soaked hair from her face. "You'll help each other through this and your love will grow twice as strong in the process."

---

Driving home from the lake with the wind from the open window blowing her hair, Cassie said, "I thought I was going to feel bad after this trip, but I feel so much better."

"Good." Nick turned down the music in case she wanted to keep talking. "Sometimes all it takes to help somebody is a little push in the right direction."

---

When Sara saw a stack of casefiles on the dining room table, she felt an instinctive pull to read them. "No." She proceeded to the bedroom, where she discovered her husband was already sleep and lightly snoring. "I guess he decided we could talk later after all," she informed Bruno before returning to the living room to resume reading the novel she had started that morning.

The casefiles catching her eye once more, she paused in front of them. Just one. She figured it would only renew her resolve to stay as far away from the lab and society as possible.

A snapshot of a vibrant young African American girl made her smile, until she searched further and discovered the child's body had been dumped in a canal. "Dammit!" She slammed the file shut and marched to her book, a frivolous tale of love and lust in the tropics. But try as she might to read about a young woman's adventures in paradise, she couldn't forget the little girl in the photo who had been put through hell.

Staring at the book in her hand, she thought of her husband who had been pulling doubles and walking through the door like a zombie. She thought of her friends, who had stopped leaving messages. But love them as she did, it wasn't them who made her feet walk toward the dining room and the casefile, it was the thought of the baby growing inside her, and how she would feel if her child had been killed and nobody cared.

Running her fingers over the stack of casefiles, her heart beat faster. Was it fear? Or was her pulse notching a sign of life? It seemed odd that the dead could make her feel more alive, but opening little Anika Wilson's file, she felt her doubts subside. Everyone had a purpose in life, some people wrote escapist beach books for the masses, and others, like her and the amazing man snoring from exhaustion in the next room, lived to give victims a voice.

Staring at the files, she knew escaping wasn't going to heal her. The only cure for what ailed her was to keep going, because even though she knew they would never win the war, they could make a difference, one case at a time.

***

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