Title: Out of the Depths
Author: VicXntric
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Warrick/Nick
Category: h/c, angst
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: "Grave Danger"
Summary: Any long road is going to have a lot of bumps in it.
Disclaimer: So not mine. Will put them back tired but happy.
Author's Notes: This is the godzilla of plotbunnies. I have no idea where it's headed, or how long it will be, I'm just trying to hang on.

Moving day was full of surprises.

The biggest surprise was that Nick was moving at all. No one had wondered why Nick moved after the mess with Nigel Crane, but this was completely unexpected.

After they freed Nick from his would-be grave, he spent his first twenty-four hours in the hospital shaking from head to toe with tears leaking from his eyes in a constant stream. The doctors made several allowances for such an extreme case, foregoing any restraints they might have used and even leaving the side bars on the bed down. Instead, there was always someone on either side of Nick's bed to grasp the trembling hands and quietly reassure him that he was safe.

There was never a lack of volunteers for the duty, as people from the lab and police department jostled quietly outside the ICU for the honor. There was usually only one hand to jostle for, however, because Jillian Stokes was holding onto Nick's left hand and not even a Superior Court Judge was going to budge her--husband or not. Judge Stokes gave up trying after the first few hours, obviously knowing from years of experience when he wasn't going to win a contest of wills.

Unlike his mother, Nick's father was not a man that could sit and murmur quiet comfort to his suffering son. Even though he was focused on Nick, Warrick could tell it was killing the stoic man not to be able to simply fix it. Consequently, Judge Stokes was often driven out of the room by his own helplessness but was unable to stay away for long.

Because he'd been in the ambulance, Warrick had the first shift at Nick's side, and only gave up his post to Gil after several hours and much prompting. It might have been torture to listen to Nick whimper and choke incoherently, but it was infinitely better than being anywhere else. Warrick went back in every chance he got, no matter how briefly.

On the second day, Judge Stokes--obviously relieved to have something to do--arranged for a large private room for Nick. Warrick, some part of him wondering at his nerve, promptly planted himself in a chair in the corner of that room and didn't budge, despite some pointed hints from the Judge. Mrs. Stokes oh-so-politely told her husband to leave him alone and much to Warrick's surprise, the man did. So two days later when she oh-so-politely suggested that he get something to eat and a change of clothes, Warrick did so without argument. He knew an iron fist when he saw one, no matter how soft the velvet glove.

Once outside Nick's room, Warrick suddenly recalled he actually had a job he'd abandoned for several days and hustled himself over to the lab after a much-needed shower. Catherine hustled him right back out, telling him she already had him down for another week of vacation and someone would call him when he needed to come back. Warrick stayed only long enough to see that the entire department was in some sort of upheaval before returning to the hospital, not even bothering to wonder what was going on. His job was the least of his concerns--his only concern was about to be discharged in another few days.

Physically, Nick was recovering very nicely. He'd escaped with only the mildest infection from the ant bites and his shock and dehydration had also been solved with little difficulty. That he rarely went an hour without a fit of trembling or that his eyes could still fill with tears at any given moment was apparently not reason enough to keep him in.

Nick's parents didn't agree and had Nick moved to a private care facility instead. This had the added advantage of stricter control over Nick's visitors. At the hospital Nick had a steady stream of visitors--nearly all of them in law enforcement. Most were genuinely concerned for Nick, but some were morbidly curious and a few more were looking for saleable information. In the private Avalon Springs, Nick's visits were cut drastically to swing and graveyard shift CSIs, a handful of colleagues from the lab and a few detectives.

Nearly all of Nick's colleagues visited daily--with varying results. Catherine and Brass were the best at keeping Nick on an even keel, while Greg was sometimes too jovial and Sara sometimes too forceful. Grissom visited every day, but Nick seemed acutely embarrassed in his presence, they were usually well into the visit before Nick was able to meet Grissom's eyes. Bobby Dawson had been away during the disaster, but now he returned, and his solid, cheerful presence was inexplicably comforting to Warrick as well as Nick. Warrick had been leery of Hodges' first visit, but after that looked forward to them for Nick's sake. Hodges didn't require any conversation from Nick--which Nick was usually in no shape to give--and would just come in and complain about life in that sarcastic, snarky way of his for twenty minutes. This apparently amused Nick no end, because there were rarely shakes or tears following Hodges' visits.

Doctor Robbins and David Phillips did not have the same luck. Nick was a wreck upon waking to see Al Robbins by his bedside and the same thing happened on David's first visit. Both men took it in stride, Robbins going so far as to say that no one wants to see a coroner in their hospital room and David, although obviously hurt, was calm and understanding. Their second visits were better.

Nick didn't comment on Warrick's near-constant presence, he merely accepted it. Whenever Nick did get upset--and it still happened more times a day than Warrick could track--he would hold onto his parents, or to his mother with both hands, but his eyes always searched the room for Warrick. Warrick would get up and move toward him if one hand was free, and if not, he would just hold that gaze and nod slowly until Nick began to nod as well. There were surprisingly few nightmares, but no one was kidding themselves about why–-Nick was still on sedatives to help him sleep, although the dosage was slowly being reduced. The nightmares he did have were calmed by his mother's arm around him, his father's hand on his forehead or Warrick's voice repeating quietly-- "We gotcha, buddy, we gotcha."

"It's very good of you to stay here with him, Mr. Brown," Jillian said after Nick had fallen into a fitful sleep after one such episode.

"Call me Warrick," Warrick replied, because he wasn't sure what else to say.

"He's mentioned you often," Jillian continued. "It sounds like you're one of his best friends here in Las Vegas."

Warrick smiled as though they weren't headed into dangerous territory that he was still too scared to examine. He managed to maintain his "concerned best friend" facade, but feared the true depth of his feelings would begin to bleed through before long. "Yeah, we're pretty tight," he said, and left it at that.

Much to Warrick's relief, Jillian accepted his "man of few words" stance without question.

Once Nick had been settled at Avalon Springs, Judge Stokes grew restless again until an offhand comment from Nick gave him something else to do.

It was only a brief comment--all of Nick's comments were brief. As if he was ashamed of a voice that still quivered and broke randomly, Nick spoke as little as possible. At this point, "I'm not sure I'll be able to handle living there," was practically a speech from him. Warrick knew what he was talking about, because he recalled when Nick moved after Nigel Crane was put away. Even then Nick had commented on how so many small rooms were odd for a house in the desert, but had called the place "cozy" and been there ever since. Warrick could easily see how cozy would now become stifling.

Nick's parents overheard and immediately wanted to know what the problem was--Warrick could practically see them planning to fix it was in record time. Nick was unable to give any specific reason, so Warrick tentatively mentioned the layout.

Judge Stokes had studied his son's face for several minutes, then said, "I'll make some calls," and left the room.

Nick blinked, looking somewhat bewildered, but Jillian patted his hand. "Let him go, honey. You know your daddy lives to make calls. Better than having him hover, isn't it?"

That got a smile out of Nick and Warrick felt his own lips twitch.

Although Warrick now went home to shower and change daily, the majority of his time was still spent at Avalon Springs. The Stokes were so used to his continued presence by now that the Judge didn't even bat an eye to find him there when he walked two days later in with a sheaf of papers in his hand and a satisfied expression on his face. "Well, I've got it narrowed down to six places for you, Pancho. Jill, honey, I'll need you to take a look at them."

"Bill," Jillian frowned. "Do you at least have floor plans for Nick to look at?"

Warrick, who had missed the conversation about the Judge finding Nick a new place, turned to Nick. Nick's stunned expression indicated he had missed that conversation as well. After a few moments, shock transformed into a resigned but fond look.

"I've got them here," Judge Stokes said and to Warrick's amazement, handed the plans not to his son, but his wife. "And I spoke to James Delmett--they weren't able to push the Lowrey trial back any further."

Jillian sighed sadly, "We're lucky we managed to get this much time." She turned to Nick, "Honey, I'm so sorry, but the Lowrey trial is--well, we'll have to be back by the fourth so I can prepare."

"I didn't expect you to move here. It's okay."

Jillian looked doubtful.

"You mentioned the Lowrey trial. It's important."

Warrick could tell Nick was working hard to make sure no random tremor crept into his voice--he wanted to reassure his parents.

The Judge, predictably, was all business about the situation. "We'd better hustle if we're going to get the boy moved before we go back, Jillian." He turned to Nick, who had been about to speak, and continued-- "The layouts for these places were recommended by Dr. Mertens. She's one of the best shrinks in the state and she specializes in post-traumatic stress. You'll be starting with her when you leave here, and she'll be able to recommend a home care worker for you."

Warrick bit his tongue and looked to see how Nick was taking this.

"I...I've been seeing Dr. Kane--he's with the department," Nick protested weakly, as though he didn't quite believe everything he'd heard. "And I don't need a nurse."

"Dr. Kane seems like a good man," Judge Stokes agreed. "But Dr. Mertens is the best there is, and this isn't a nurse we're talking about, Pancho, more like a housekeeper."

"I don't need a housekeeper," Nick clarified.

"It would be a relief knowing you're all taken care of before we have to go back home, honey," Jillian added quietly.

Nick sighed helplessly and Warrick was close enough to note that his breathing had quickened. "I know...I know that's what you want, but--"

"Dr. Mertens can be here tomorrow for your first session."

"No," Nick returned, stopping his father in his tracks. "Cisco, I don't want to see anyone new. I've known Dr. Kane for years, and he's already helped." Warrick heard the first tiny quiver and knew this wasn't going to end well. "And I don't want...I can't have...a--a stranger in my house...watching me and..." Nick's throat closed and tears spilled over his cheeks, "Dammit..." he choked.

Jillian immediately abandoned the floor plans to grasp Nick's fingers, while the Judge made a quick movement toward the bed, then changed his mind and stayed where he was. For several long minutes, the only sounds in the room were Nick's harsh breathing, Jillian's murmurs and Judge Stokes' uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

Desperate to break the tension, Warrick ventured, "Nick has plenty of people here to do for him--anything he needs." The grateful look Nick shot him through his tears was almost enough for him to choke up as well.

"All right, Pancho," Judge Stokes said quietly, reluctantly. "No home care worker and no Dr. Mertens, if you're sure that's what you want."

It was about five minutes before Nick regained some semblance of control, but it seemed like much longer for everyone concerned. "S-sorry," he finally said. "I can't h-help it...sorry, Cisco."

"Don't apologize, honey," Jillian soothed.

"It's not because of what he said," Nick swiped at his eyes. "It's not that. You know I j-just..."

"It's fine, Pancho," Judge Stokes said gruffly. Warrick knew the man wouldn't be able to do soothing if his life depended on it.

Nick was still trying hard to maintain. Both his hands were clenched into fists and on impulse, Warrick reached over and bumped knuckles with him. Nick blinked then managed the tiniest smile. Eventually, he was calm enough to meet his father's eyes briefly. "Can I have a look at some of those floor plans?"

When Warrick arrived in Nick's room the next day, both of Nick's parents rose at once.

"There you are," Judge Stokes pulled on his jacket. "Now we can get a move on."

Warrick blinked, not sure how to reply or if one was even required.

"We're going to look at a few places for Nick," Jillian explained. "We wanted to wait until there was someone here to stay with him."

Still not sure what to say, Warrick merely nodded and watched the couple leave. He waited a few minutes, then went and sat in the chair next to Nick's bed. "How'd you ever get to Vegas, pal?"

Nick looked as though he wasn't certain how to take that. "That's...they...it's their way of showing...that they--they love..."

Warrick quickly reassured him. "Hey, anyone can see how much they love you. I'm just sayin'--they'd wrap you in cotton wool to keep you safe if they could."

Nick let out a startled laugh, and as usual, tears were quick to follow. With a choked sound of pure frustration, Nick pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"Don't fight it, Nicky," Warrick took Nick's wrists and gently pulled his hands away. "It'll pass faster if you just let go."

With a relieved sigh, Nick leaned back against his pillow--Jillian had already raised his bed for the day before she left. "It freaks them out to see me like this," he said with a half-hearted swipe at the tears on his cheeks. "Especially when I can't explain why it's happening--most of the time I don't even know why its happening..." Nick paused briefly when he choked up again. "I hate what it does to them..."

"We know why its happening," Warrick said quietly.

Nick's pupils dilated until his eyes were impossibly dark, and his breathing began to hitch.

Warrick realized he had stumbled into the worst possible subject and frantically backtracked. "They just started reducing the dosage of your meds a couple of days ago, didn't they? That's gonna mess anyone up."

Once he realized Warrick wasn't going to force him into the verböten, Nick was able to regain his composure. "I guess...I don't want to be on medication any longer than I have to, so if this is part of it..."

Casting about for a safer subject, Warrick began talking about who had mentioned stopping in that day and the chances of sneaking in a pizza. He didn't know whether it was good or bad for Nick to avoid the subject this way, but it had only been a week and a day since it happened. Personally, Warrick thought that Nick deserved a lot of leeway to deal with it however he wanted to. Warrick knew that his mind instinctively shied away from the memories, and he didn't want to know what it was like for Nick. If bringing up those twenty-two hours still caused Nick blind terror a month from now, then it would be time to worry.

Besides, this was the first time he'd been alone with Nick for any length of time since the rescue, and he wasn't going to ruin it by sending the man back into a nightmare. So if that plexiglass coffin was something that couldn't be mentioned, Warrick would just add it too all the other things he wasn't going to say to Nick, no matter how much he wanted to.

It also meant that Warrick couldn't say that although he'd always considered Nick a good CSI, a good friend and a good person, he now felt somewhat awed by him. Despite Catherine's reassurances to the contrary, Warrick still doubted that he wouldn't have given in to the temptation of cold steel under his chin. That Nick managed to lie still as much as he did, that he hadn't broken several bones in an insane, berserker fit, that he could actually speak a few words the day after, these were all things that shook Warrick to his core.

They were also things that had forced Warrick to take a good hard look at his feelings towards Nick Stokes, especially during those rare times when Nick was sleeping peacefully and his room was dim and quiet. If Warrick was attracted to both men and women, that had never been a problem--Warrick knew when to keep his encounters with men on the DL around people who didn't need to know. If Warrick had been attracted to Nick from the moment they'd met, that had never been a problem--Warrick knew how to keep his libido under control with his co-workers. If Warrick's feelings towards Nick had deepened over the years, that had never been a problem--Warrick knew how to weigh a solid friendship against the risk of a relationship and live with the balance. If Warrick had to face the possibility of life without Nick Stokes.

That was a problem.

But it was his problem, certainly not Nick's. The last thing Nick needed now was to discover that his bisexual friend--who'd rarely let on that he was bisexual--was painfully in love with him. Considering that Nick had never given the slightest hint at being interested in men and often seemed uncomfortable with the subject, Warrick didn't think pouring out his soul would do their friendship any good.

If Nick could deal with certain death for twenty two hours, Warrick decided, he should be able to deal with this.

Sam Vega was Nick's first visitor for the day, stopping in on his way to court. It was a hearing for Juanito Concha and Nick was eager to hear about it. Warrick allowed himself to relax whenever Sam visited, unlike the other detectives. None ever meant to upset Nick, but Vartann could be too abrupt and O'Riley was sometimes thoughtless. Sam's laid-back manner when he wasn't working made his visits easy on Nick.

No matter how easy the visits, though, Nick still found them tiring and as usual he fell into a light doze after his mid-morning medication. He was still asleep when Catherine arrived just before lunch. She stopped to smooth Nick's hair back gently before taking a chair next to Warrick. "Where are his folks?"

"House hunting," Warrick replied.

Catherine's eyes widened, "They're moving here?"

Warrick had to stifle his laughter. "It wouldn't be that surprising, would it? No, they're looking for a new place for Nick."

"Really?"

"Someplace bigger. More open."

Catherine nodded her understanding. "Sounds like a trend. I'm moving, too. So are you, for that matter."

"Yeah, I know," Warrick assured. "I'm back at work the day after tomorrow."

"No, you're not. You're off for another two weeks leave. Paid."

"Paid?" Warrick wasn't sure he'd heard right. "How the hell did you get Ecklie to agree to that?"

"He's on rampage," Catherine replied, then grinned at Warrick's confused look. "He went to all this trouble to cut expenses to raise Nick's ransom, and the Sheriff just shot him down without even considering. He's pissed, so he's spending it. You know how he always wants to come in well under budget?"

Warrick sour expression was answer enough.

"Well, not this year. Day and graveyard shift are going up to four CSIs plus supervisor, and swing gets three."

"So there'll be someone new when we get back," Warrick nodded.

"There'll be a whole new swing shift," Catherine corrected, sobering a bit. "Sofia has swing now. Conrad offered me day shift. I'll have two vets and two trainees working for me."

Warrick studied Catherine's expression for some clue how to take the news. Finally, he went with a tentative--"Congratulations."

"It was a really hard decision," Catherine's smile was tinged with sadness. "But how could I turn it down? I'll be working while Linz is at school and home when she's home. I can't pass that up."

"You'd be crazy to," Warrick agreed quietly.

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss my two favorite guys though."

Not certain he heard correctly, Warrick said, "I thought you had two vets."

"I do. Hal Westbrook and Valerie Hammond. You and Nicky are going back to graveyard, unless of course, either of you have a problem with that."

"Jeez, Cath, just clock me with a two-by-four and be done with it."

"You think this is tough for you?" Catherine's smile got mistier. "I was spoiled with you and Nicky, now I'll actually have to work. But, hey, at least now graveyard and day shift should get along a little better. When you need some things checked out during business hours, we'll be able to lend a hand once in a while."

Warrick nodded slowly, trying to remember a time when day and graveyard shifts co-operated as they were supposed to, but coming up blank.

"There is one stipulation before you come back to work," Catherine finished. "A last one from me, although Gil agrees."

Not liking the sound of that, Warrick merely waited.

"You're to have at least four sessions with Dr. Kane."

Warrick snorted, "Picture that."

"We're serious Warrick. A lot of people from the lab have had at least one session after what's happened. Myself included. You've still got this guilt pressing down on you, and I think you were more shook up than anyone expected--even you."

Warrick was trying to find some way to escape this very uncomfortable turn of events when Nick began to show signs of awakening. He turned Catherine's attention to the figure on the bed by saying, "Hey, just in time, man. You've got another visitor."

Catherine shot Warrick a this-isn't-over look before turning to Nick. "Hey, Nicky. What's this I hear about you getting a new place?"

"My folks are looking into it," Nick admitted with a drowsy smile.

Warrick breathed an inward sigh of relief when Catherine began teasing Nick about decorating and a house-warming party. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of visiting Dr. Kane, but he wasn't about to start discussing things that he was also trying to shove back into the far corners of his mind.

***

Judge and Mrs. Stokes were not people to waste time once they had set a course for themselves. By the end of a single day of house-hunting, Jillian had narrowed Nick's choices down to three and brought him dozens of photographs of each place. Nick chose a moderately-sized townhouse and the next day, his father laid out the deposit and several months rent. Nick's had objected soundly to that part, but this time his protests fell on deaf ears.

The Stokes' were due to return to Dallas in three days, and Jillian was obviously determined that Nick's new home be ready and waiting for him when he finally left Avalon Springs. Although arrangements had been made for Nick to spend another two weeks at the facility, Warrick suspected that Nick would be checking himself out after his parents were safely back in Texas.

Right now, his parents were out looking for a moving company that would meet their standards--an all day job if Warrick ever heard one. Nick was lost in thought, as he had been all day. Warrick watched him carefully, trying to find some clue to what was on his mind.

Lord knows he's got enough shit to think about.

Nick didn't look terribly haunted by whatever was occupying his thoughts, but something was definitely making him uncomfortable. Warrick didn't want to push, but after an hour of stilted conversation, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"What's up, Nick?"

Nick's gaze flicked over his room before coming to rest on Warrick. "I...uh...I need to ask you a favor."

"Nah, man, you just gotta name it," Warrick returned, then blinked in surprise when Nick flushed slightly.

"I appreciate that," Nick said, then took a deep breath. "Do you still have the keys to my place? From when I went to that New Orleans seminar last month?"

"Yeah," Warrick shook his head, surprised to hear that was the subject. "Yeah, I do. I'll bring them by tomorrow."

"I was..." The color in Nick's cheeks was becoming more pronounced. "I was kind of hoping you...er, you could stop by my place tonight."

Warrick shrugged, nonplused. "Sure. If you want me to, but your mom is going to start packing tomorrow--"

"I know," Nick said quickly, his face getting redder all the time. "That's why I want you to go tonight." He stared at Warrick pointedly, then let out a frustrated sigh when he didn't get the response he wanted. "There's some things a guy doesn't exactly want his mom packing up, y'know?"

That was so unexpected Warrick let out a startled bark of laughter.

"Warrick..." Nick frowned.

The sound of Nick drawing out his name in annoyance only made Warrick laugh again, this time out of the pure pleasure of hearing it. It seemed like years since he'd heard that familiar tone. He didn't want to offend Nick, though, so after a struggle, he managed to stifle his laughter. "Sorry, man. Sorry." A wayward chuckle escaped. "That's just not what I expected to hear."

Even Nick's ears were red now, but he was keeping his composure. "I'm not crazy about anyone going through any of my stuff."

The reminder of Nick's need for privacy sobered Warrick further. "I know, Nick. I'm sorry."

He must have still looked somewhat amused, though, because Nick scowled at him. "How would you like your Gramma going through everything in your bedroom?"

That worked. Warrick felt a little queasy.

It obviously showed. "Exactly."

"Point taken," Warrick acknowledged.

Then they made the mistake of meeting each other's eyes and they both started laughing. It wasn't long before tears appeared in Nick's eyes, and Warrick felt choked up himself. It was just a brief glimpse of their normal craziness that now seemed impossibly out of reach, and Warrick couldn't stand the ache of not knowing when things would be like that again.

"This is stupid," Nick wiped at his eyes, alternating between chuckles and sobs. He wasn't shaking, though, which Warrick took as a very good sign.

"S'okay, Nick." It hadn't taken Warrick long to realize that Nick could recover from the smaller jags sooner if things kept moving along as though nothing unusual was happening. If everything else stopped, Nick felt the pressure to control himself, which only led to more stress. So Warrick did his best to act as though things were normal. "So where do I find the Nicky Stokes porn collection?"

Nick shot him a deadly look, although the effect was somewhat diminished by damp eyes and spiky lashes.

"Sorry," Warrick said yet again. He clamped down on the hysterical laughter still thrumming through him. "Just tell me where it is and I'll clear it out for you."

After another suspicious look, Nick said, "There's some things in the bottom of my entertainment unit and...oh god...this is..."

"And..?" Warrick prompted. When he saw Nick was moving from embarrassment to distress, all traces of humor vanished, although he couldn't help a twinge of curiosity. "C'mon, Nick. You know I'm not gonna judge." When that didn't get any response, he added, "Nick, it's either me or your folks."

Nick took a deep breath, "In my bedroom...the nightstand and...the taller dresser--at the bottom of the top drawer..."

"That it?" Warrick asked, and was even more curious that Nick had to think about that briefly.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," Nick finally said.

"Consider it done," Warrick said.

"Then...there's no need to mention it again," Nick warned.

Despite a herioc effort, Warrick's grin got away from him again.

***

Damn, Nicky, haven't you learned anything living in Vegas?

Warrick shook his head in resignation. The "porn collection" in the entertainment center barely qualified as far as he was concerned. Three video cassettes, at least five years old, and about as vanilla as porn could get and still be considered porn. Dutifully, Warrick dropped them in the bag he'd brought along.

Moving on to Nick's bedroom and its Shaker furniture, Warrick opened the drawer to the nightstand and took out the expected condoms and lube. Nothing odd there except that the box was almost full. He certainly wasn't going fault Nick for dry patch with the ladies.

Vaguely disappointed, Warrick walked to the dresser and opened the top drawer, lifting Nick's clothes with the expectations of finding some equally vanilla magazines.

The realistic-looking dildo came as a bit of a surprise.

However, it wasn't nearly as big a surprise as the book Warrick pulled out next.

Men Loving Men.

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch," Warrick boggled out loud.

Walking into Avalon Springs the next morning, Warrick met up with the Stokes' at the entrance to Nick's wing. Jillian gave him a relieved smile, but Judge Stokes frowned. "We waited as long as we could. Didn't want to leave the boy alone, but we have to meet the movers."

Warrick nearly apologized on pure reflex, but Jillian didn't give him the chance. "Bill, for heaven's sake, don't you think he has a life of his own? He doesn't have to follow your schedule--or any schedule." She turned to Warrick with a placating smile, "Don't mind him. Nick's been out of sorts this morning--and last night, come to think of it--we had some worries about leaving him by himself."

Although he felt the slightest twinge of guilt at the news, Warrick had been living with the feeling for so long now that it barely registered. "Well, some days are bound to be worse than others," he replied, glad that his voice sounded so neutral.

"Exactly," Jillian smiled. "We have to fly, though, so we'll see you later tonight."

Warrick watched the couple walk purposefully toward the exit before continuing down the hall to Nick's room. He'd had his doubts the night before about going straight home instead of returning to the hospital, but he wanted the time to let his discovery sink in. He didn't want to be considering the ramifications of it while Nick was in the same room, and definitely not when Nick's parents were in the same room. Instead he went home and saw to everything he'd been neglecting, returned some overdue movies, paid a few bills, threw out some spoiled food and got some of his clothes ready for the cleaners.

He'd listened to and dismissed most of the messages on his answering machine, even the increasingly angry ones from Tina. The last one was her breaking it off with him, which didn't particularly surprise or pain him. Warrick had quite simply forgotten she existed, and only felt somewhat relieved that he wouldn't have to go to the trouble of breaking it off with her. Dr. Kane left some messages about calling to make an appointment, but Warrick ignored those as well.

Then Warrick laid awake in his bed for most of the night, running through every possible angle and implication of his errand. That Nick maybe hadn't caught on that he was bisexual. Otherwise wouldn't he have brought up the subject? Maybe not, if Nick had problems admitting his own preferences. But wouldn't the book indicate he was leaning toward acceptance? Maybe Nick had no problem admitting it and merely wanted to keep that side of his sex life anonymous and separate. Warrick dismissed that notion almost immediately--it just didn't fit in with what else he knew about Nick Stokes. So what was he left with? Someone either very new to this preference or someone who didn't actually want to deal with it. Neither scenario was encouraging for Warrick to bring the subject up.

So he wouldn't.

That do-not-discuss corner of his mind was getting awfully crowded, but Warrick had no trouble tucking this inside. In some ways, it was easier to deal with his feelings toward Nick now. He had gone from never being able to tell Nick how he felt to knowing that he could eventually broach the subject one day. Eventually. That was something Warrick could handle--it was the never that was so painful.

That left today, but Warrick decided to just follow Nick's lead. When he walked into the room, however, he found that Nick wasn't in shape to lead anything. Although he was dressed and sitting in the room's recliner, Nick looked like he really shouldn't have been out of bed at all. That he was out of bed was enough to give Warrick pause--although he was nearly healed physically, Nick still seemed to tire easily and rarely got dressed before noon. He didn't get out of bed often, leaving the recliner for his parents' use and ignoring the fact that it had been provided for him.

Right now, Nick looked as though he wanted to disappear into the depths of the recliner, and his eyes were bright with trepidation when he looked at Warrick.

This time the twinge of guilt was deeper and much more noticeable. What had he been thinking by not coming back last night to reassure Nick? "Ah, hell, Nicky. I'm sorry."

It came out before Warrick thought, and it was exactly the wrong thing to say, judging by the way the dark eyes widened in alarm.

Barely resisting the urge to smack himself in the mouth, Warrick merely shook his head. "That I didn't stop in last night. I went home after to--" Think about what sort of men you might like. Wonder what my chances were now. Hope I didn't come across like a lovesick moron the next time I saw you. "--crash."

"Oh." Nick didn't look reassured.

Change the subject, change the subject. Big change--completely distract him. "So what are you doing today? You going outside?"

"Outside?" Nick asked as though this were a completely new concept. Nick often seemed reluctant to leave the safety of his room, even though he was physically able to take a stroll around the grounds. Warrick would have thought Nick had enough of staying in one spot, but just the opposite seemed to be true.

"Yeah. Outside. Clear the hospital smell out of your nose."

"Outside," Nick said again.

"I can go grab a wheelchair and--"

"I don't need a wheelchair," Nick said immediately, just as Warrick knew he would.

"Well, I'm just sayin'. You been lazing around that bed for over a week. I wouldn't want you keeling over," Warrick said, and waited.

It took a few minutes--it had been awhile--but eventually Nick realized he was being baited, much in the way Warrick usually did on cases they worked together. Most of the tension left his body, but the relief brought fresh tears to his eyes. "Oh damn..." he sighed in disgust and tried to wipe them with fingers that shook. "Damn."

"Wait it out, Nicky," Warrick said, moving his chair closer to the recliner. "It's no rush. There's all day to go out."

"I d-didn't say...I was g-going out..." Nick reminded him.

"You gonna stay in and watch Animal Planet all day?" Warrick continued to tease as though Nick wasn't trembling and didn't have tears running down his cheeks. "How many bird shows can they run?" He continued with his gentle ribbing until Nick regained control.

"Okay, but don't tell Mom. She nearly had a fit because I wanted to move to the recliner this early in the morning."

Warrick snorted, "That crazy I am not."

* * *

Warrick visited Nick's new townhouse when Jillian announced that it was all ready. All he could think was that the place was--not Nick. Of course, he said nothing of the sort when Nick asked his opinion, though. He tried to formulate a decent reply while inwardly thanking God Nick had the good sense to ask while his parents were out of the room.

Finally, not wanting to say–I know it's meant to be light and airy, but it's cold and sterile, he settled for something about Nick personalizing it once he moved in.

Nick nodded his understanding, then asked, "She try to make it southwestern?"

Warrick blinked in surprise, "Kinda, yeah. But not much of your stuff works that way."

With a rueful smile Nick shook his head. "Yeah, that's Mom. Southwestern is all she really knows. She's a great public defender, but my sisters used to give her hell about her decorating. Everything in our house was southwestern until Meredith finally snapped and redid the place when she was eighteen." He shrugged, "I'll just give away the cactus once I get there."

"Cacti," Warrick corrected with a laugh.

* * *

"Hey," Catherine looked surprised find Warrick in the hall outside of Nick's room. "What's going on?"

Warrick stepped away from the wall where he'd been leaning. "I figured I'd give them some time alone with Nick before they left."

Catherine nodded, "We can't wait too much longer, though." She pushed open the door and walked in.

"Ms. Willows," Jillian said in the same dread-filled tone most people used to say "root canal."

Catherine didn't take offense, she just smiled her understanding. "We've got just under an hour before your plane leaves. I don't mean to rush you, but--"

Judge Stokes nodded and looked at his wife. "Jill--"

Jillian nodded, causing some of the tears in her eyes to spill over.

"Mom--" Nick said helplessly. He wasn't crying, but Warrick suspected the effort would cost him later.

"You phone every day," Jillian insisted, smoothing the short, dark hair. "Even if no one answers--you leave a message so we know how you are."

"I will," Nick promised, closing his eyes when his mother hugged him.

Jillian stepped away from the bed and her husband moved in. "Pancho, anything you need, you just let me know."

"I will, Cisco," Nick nodded.

"All right, then." The businesslike tone with which he spoke made him seem distant, but Warrick was close enough to see how tightly he embraced Nick. Then he turned and held his hand out to Warrick, "Mr. Brown."

Warrick immediately shook it, "Your Honor."

"I'll be by to see you later," Catherine told Nick.

Putting an arm around his wife, Judge Stokes ushered her toward the door. Jillian patted Warrick's arm as she went by, then stopped to blow Nick a kiss from the door. Nick managed a fairly convincing smile for them.

Then they were gone.

Warrick glanced at Nick who was staring blankly at the empty doorway, taking slow, deep breaths. Within minutes, though, his breathing had shortened and shallowed.

"Nick?"

Nick let out a long, shuddering sigh.

Unsure how exactly to interpret the sound, Warrick asked carefully, "Nick, are you upset that they're leaving or...relieved?"

"Yes," Nick choked and dropped his face into his hands.

Moving close to the bed, Warrick dropped a comforting hand onto Nick's shoulder. He could feel serious tremors wracking Nick's body and squeezed gently.

"I just...I just..." Nick's breath was coming in short gasping sobs.

"Don't, Nicky," Warrick said. The sounds made his own chest hurt. "You don't have to talk right now, okay? Stop trying to fight it and it will pass sooner." He thought Nick would have realized that by now, but if he had to talk him through it every time, so be it. He moved his hand to Nick's back, rubbing in gentle circles and keeping up a constant flow of soothing words.

"This is horrible..." Nick finally croaked, falling back against his pillow in obvious exhaustion.

"What is? You're going to have to give me a little more than that to go on." Warrick had moved his hand just in time to avoid it being trapped behind Nick's back and now rested it on his shoulder again.

"That I'm..." Nick took in several gulps of air. "...that I feel...not..." He began to calm down enough to speak. "That I somehow feel less pressure now."

Warrick nodded and gave Nick's shoulder another squeeze, "I can see that." He grabbed the pitcher of ice water and poured Nick a glass, making a mental note to keep it full now that Jillian wasn't around to do it.

Nick had to hold the glass with both hands and he drank about a third of it before continuing. "I know...I know they love me. And I know they want me to be well and sane and happy...but..." His hands started to shake again and Warrick quickly took the water away. "I c-can't be that right now...I want to...I want to at least be able to--to act like I am, but I can't do th-that either..."

"You don't have to do that, Nick," Warrick assured him.

"Right up until you and Cath came in, they were making suggestions about me going back to Texas," Nick shook his head and swiped uselessly at his cheeks. "I can't--it would be like going backwards and then I'd never..." He closed his eyes and fell silent. Just when Warrick was beginning to think he may have dozed off, he spoke again. "I was on the Dallas PD for three years without drawing my gun, without a single arrest, with barely any patrol under my belt. Do you know why, Rick?"

Warrick nodded slowly, "Because Judge Stokes has a long reach?"

"DA Stokes at the time, but yeah," Nick still hadn't opened his eyes. "I'm the youngest by almost eight years, and I know that's part of it, but...I don't like it, but how do you tell them?"

Warrick knew a rhetorical question when he heard one.

"And part--part of me wants to go back," Nick whispered this admission as if ashamed.

"Who can blame you?" Warrick agreed. It was easy for him to say so now, because Nick obviously wasn't going anywhere. He was glad he hadn't known that Nick's parents tried to convince him to go back to Texas, or he would have had a much harder time being friendly with them. "Nick, you don't have to feel guilty over anything you're thinking, okay?"

"Rick, I'm so messed up."

Those words, that helpless tone, the small voice robbed Warrick of speech. He pulled Nick into a hard hug and finally managed a few words. "I know, Nicky. I know." But you're alive. You're here. Thank god you're here. Warrick didn't dare say that aloud, and instead settled for the less-satisfying, "We're gonna help you get through this, buddy. No matter how long it takes."

Nick leaned into the embrace, but was too exhausted to really return it.

Warrick knew now he'd made the right decision in keeping quiet about his discovery at Nick's old place and what that might mean for them both. The last thing Nick needed was a prospective lover or someone carrying a torch for him. Nick needed the solid friendship that had always existed between them behind the competition and one-upmanship. But Warrick would have given anything to have the right to press kisses in the dark hair, wipe the tears away with his own fingers or crawl into the bed and cradle Nick against him.

He had to content himself with--"Don't you worry about a thing, bro. Your mom said that recliner is pretty comfortable and I'm gonna be here for you 24/7."

It was actually more like 21/7, but no one seemed to pay much attention to those few hours Warrick was at home to shower, change and occasionally eat--least of all Warrick.

Although in many ways Nick seemed more relaxed once his parents were back in Texas, some of the changes were not so reassuring. His bouts of tears or tremors were becoming more frequent and less predictable. Now Nick could be sitting silently and Warrick would glance over to find tears rolling down his cheeks or his shoulders shaking. Since Nick still fared best when the situation remained the same, Warrick tried not to throw him off too much. If it happened during a conversation, Warrick just kept talking. If the jag started when Nick was quiet, Warrick didn't speak either. He'd lay a hand on Nick's arm or shoulder and keep on watching television.

It was usually the latter scenario, because unless there were visitors, Nick didn't seem to have much to say. He didn't have much to say when there were visitors either, but he did make more of an effort.

Warrick didn't mind the long stretches of silence, but he did mind that Nick seemed to be making up for it by becoming much more vocal in his sleep. Warrick was beginning to dread Nick falling asleep, but stubbornly refused to leave the room despite suggestions from the nurses.

The first time he witnessed one of these "new" nightmares, the anguish pierced his heart and each subsequent dream made it bleed a little more. Unlike before, there was now no question what the nightmares were about. Sometimes Nick sang about a waitress, sometimes he just kept repeating "I'm here" or "I promise" and sometimes he cursed at the ants swarming over him--Warrick could handle all of those. It wasn't easy, but it was possible.

Then he had awakened one night to Nick choking and whimpering. "Nooo...don't go...I promise, I promise...don't--don't leave me here...War--rick...please, I p-promise..."

Warrick knew exactly what Nick was reliving, and the pain of it actually kept him from moving. For so many endless minutes, all Warrick could do was listen to that broken, pleading voice, his mind having stuttered to a halt. When he could finally move again, he pulled Nick up and into his arms, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere," in a voice almost as choked as Nick's.

Nick had awakened to find Warrick near tears and had been horrified. "What happened?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, Nicky," Warrick assured him, although he voice wasn't exactly steady either. "You had a bad dream."

"But you're--you're--" Nick looked disbelieving. "I'm sorry..."

It came out the exact same way as "I promise" had and Warrick had to bow his head as fresh tears filled his eyes. Not wanting Nick to see them, he drew the slighter man close again.

Trembling and bewildered but ultimately trusting, Nick rested silently in the circle of his friend's arms.

Warrick held him until Nick fell asleep again. From then on he was determined that no matter how bad Nick's nightmares got, Nick would never have to deal with anything but reassurance from him.

* * *

Warrick could usually tell how bad Nick's nightmares were going to be based on the visitors he had that day. One of his thrice-weekly sessions with Dr. Kane was sure to give Nick a restless sleep, whereas if Catherine or--this still baffled Warrick--Hodges were his last visitors of the day, Nick had an easier night. Everyone else could vary depending on how the visit went--except one.

A visit from Grissom late in the day was a guarantee of numerous and horrendous nightmares. Warrick was often tempted to ask Grissom to limit his visits to the mornings, but then his supervisor would want to know why and Warrick knew he couldn't bring himself to explain.

To most people, it appeared that Gil Grissom had slipped easily back into his routine, but those closest to him--his graveyard shift--knew differently. Grissom had been badly shaken by Nick's ordeal, and his intense effort in hiding that was just another sign of how deeply he was affected. If Nick had been himself, he would have seen it as well, but Nick was so far from himself right now that he may as well have been a different person where Grissom was concerned.

Grissom just didn't possess the social skills to tread the fine line Nick required right now. As much as Warrick knew he wanted to, Grissom was rarely able to achieve more than a stilted conversation about work, and simply could not interpret the fleeting changes of expression or breathing that were alarms for Warrick.

For reasons Warrick still couldn't fathom, Nick remained practically mute and intensely uncomfortable during these visits, which only made Grissom more wooden and reserved. Warrick had no idea what to say to either man, so he remained silent on the subject. Instead, he began prodding Nick to be more active during the day in the hopes that Nick's sleep would be deeper.

To that end, Warrick tried to coax Nick outside for a walk around the well-tended grounds at least once a day. Nick was reluctant at first, but soon was going out several times a day, with dusk actually being his favorite time. This didn't surprise Warrick, because Nick had suddenly developed an aversion to extremes in lights. The moment he was coherent enough to ask, Nick requested that the overhead fluorescent lights be kept off. It was an odd request, but not troublesome, so the low nightlight was used once the sun went down and the window was no longer a source of light. Warrick realized the implications of this at once, and wondered if complete darkness would be equally unsettling, although they hadn't had to deal with that at either Desert Palms or Avalon Springs.

Nick's favorite spot was a patch of grass at the edge of the grounds that most people avoided because in was unshaded and devoid of benches, fountains or any other sort of landscaping. Warrick suspected those were the exact reasons Nick liked it so much.

About five days after Judge and Mrs. Stokes had returned to Texas, Nick and Warrick were enjoying the early evening air from this spot when Nick suddenly broke the companionable silence.

"I saw them open me up."

Warrick started at the flat statement. "What?"

"Doc Robbins and Super Dave." Both Nick's voice and his gaze were alarmingly distant. "They used a chainsaw...so of course there was blood everywhere..."

Unable to speak, Warrick nodded blankly, but Nick wasn't looking at him.

"My dad was there...and he was talking to Doc Robbins about...then--then I woke up and I couldn't breathe..." Nick's voice was so calm, so cool, so not Nick that it scared Warrick. "I couldn't breathe and I knew it would take...longer to die that way than if I just..."

"Nicky..." Warrick breathed, then caught himself. He knew it was a good sign that Nick finally brought up his hellish experience, but Warrick dreaded having to hear what it was like for him.

"I lined up my gun and gave myself a count..." Nick frowned, "But I didn't do it on three...I--I couldn't somehow...and then there were lights and I thought it was the light, y'know?"

Warrick nodded again, even though Nick's eyes were still fixed on the far-off horizon.

"I thought it was strange that the light would be...flashing, and really weird that I didn't even remember pulling the trigger...but then..." A tremor finally wavered through the controlled voice. "Then I heard...I heard you, and you kept saying..."

"Put that down," Warrick's voice was barely a whisper.

Nick nodded, "Put that down. So I did. And then..." Nick swallowed hard and turned to Warrick, "Do you--you suppose that even counts as a near-death experience? I've heard a lot of people call it that when they thought I couldn't hear. But the lights were just flashlights."

Warrick didn't trust his voice, so he merely shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't think it counts," Nick sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "Technically, it wasn't a near-death anything."

Warrick gritted his teeth, "It was close enough."

Nick jumped, startled by the vehement tone.

Warrick felt it, but couldn't bring himself to look at Nick. "Sorry."

After another deep breath, Nick spoke again. "Dr. Kane says I'm in denial about it, but I don't buy that. I mean, hell, I was there..." his voice broke momentarily, but he regained control. "How am I going to deny that?" He frowned when Warrick didn't reply. "It was just a day...it wasn't--the marks from the ant bites are almost gone and...really, do I need to be in a hospital? Jesus, haven't my folks spent enough of their money on this fiasco? I don't know what a week in this place runs, but it can't be cheap. I'd do just as well at home as I do here."

Torn between wanting to be supportive and truthful, Warrick chose his words carefully. "If you're starting to get really restless here, then yeah, you'd be better off in your own place. But I don't think your folks care about the money." He didn't comment on Nick referring to his ordeal as "just a day" and a "fiasco" because he still couldn't believe he'd heard it. "It's up to you, though," he finished lamely.

Nick shot him a quick look that indicated he knew Warrick was copping out, although his eyes were suspiciously bright.

"What did Kane say?"

"That being in the hospital might be beginning to have ‘an adverse effect on my recovery.'"

Warrick's eyes widened, "Hell, Nick. Then check out."

Nick nodded, plucking at a few blades of dry grass. "I've been wanting out for a while now, but...well, I made myself a bargain..." Another deep, shaky breath, "Once I could make myself talk about it, I could go--go home."

Warrick closed his eyes and revised his opinion that discussing this was good for Nick. It was no wonder he sounded like someone else when he talked about it. Make yourself..? It was so like Nick to punish or reward himself for recovering or not recovering as quickly as he thought he should, but Warrick didn't know how to convince him it would do more harm than good. Warrick was tempted to make an appointment with Phillip Kane to talk about what would be the best way to handle these things with Nick, but he was too worried that it would shift into a discussion about him. Since the bottom line was that he wanted Nick home as much as Nick wanted to be there, Warrick concentrated on that. "Well, you'd better get all the forms you need. This place is going to want an okay from both your doctors, and it's going to take at least another day to get that."

"Ah hell," Nick choked up a little.

"Come on," Warrick stood and held out his hand for Nick. "The sooner we get the ball rolling, the sooner you're home."

Nick took his hand and allowed Warrick to help him up. As they walked back to the hospital, Warrick wondered what his chances were of catching a quick nap while Nick went over his forms. He had a feeling he'd need it.

He was right. Nick's nightmares were the most severe Warrick had ever seen, and when he did wake up, he just kept pleading, "Don't tell anyone...I'm trying to be quiet. Don't tell anyone, Rick."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Warrick assured him quietly. "Even if your doctors want you to stay, they can't make you. If you want out, you can get out."

"I can get out," Nick murmured the words like a mantra.

It may have soothed Nick, but the implication made Warrick's blood run cold.

* * *

With the paperwork and notice required, Nick did have to spend one more day at Avalon Springs, but once he was assured he would definitely be leaving, he was able to spend it calmly. The morning of his release, Nick alternated between eagerness and apprehension as he and Warrick packed up all the gifts Nick had received during his stay. There were three fair-sized boxes full--mostly books and DVDs along with a few more plants. Nick seemed embarrassed by the amount, which amused Warrick no end.

Warrick wasn't quite as amused on the ride to Nick's new townhouse. Although there was nothing resembling one of Nick's panicked jags, Warrick found his fascination with the window disturbing--especially the way he kept one had splayed against the glass for the entire ride.

It was a relief to pull up to the townhouse, but as Warrick got out and walked around to grab one of the boxes, he noticed Nick hadn't moved. The dark eyes were fastened on the building as though it held the secrets of the ages.

"You have the keys?" Warrick asked quietly.

Nick blinked several times, "Yeah." Moments later, he was unlocking the door. He only took a few steps inside before stopping and staring again.

Warrick entered behind him and looked also, trying to see it from a first-time point of view. The living, kitchen and dining areas were all in one great room with dark wooden beams crossing the high ceiling. Stark white walls seemed to ruin the effect of the warm hardwood floor which would have gone with Nick's leather furniture if the back drop was a warmer color. The windows were higher up than average, and Nick gave a tiny nod when he noted them.

"Go check the rest of it out," Warrick urged him. "I'll get the other boxes."

"Thanks," Nick said absently, and wandered toward the door at the far end of the room.

When Warrick came back in with the last load, he found Nick in the great room again, looking utterly lost. "Nicky?" he said tentatively, setting the box on the dining table.

"I like it," Nick said blankly. "I just--" He turned slowly to take the room in again, "It's, um, it doesn't feel quite real. Like I'm not here."

Warrick felt the blood drain from his face a pool somewhere in the pit of his stomach.

Nick noticed his expression. "Not like that, Rick," he assured his friend quickly. "Just...well, you know what it feels like when you walk into your own place, yeah?"

Warrick nodded.

"I was expecting that, which is stupid, considering...so it's like--if not here, then where? And then I realized that until I get used to this place...well, right now there's nowhere in Vegas that's mine, y'know?" Nick's shoulders twitched uncomfortably. "I thought when I left the hospital, I'd have...oh no..." he sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit."

"Sit down, Nick." Warrick never thought he'd be glad to see the signs one of Nick's jags, but the detached, hollow manner Nick had been displaying more and more scared the hell out of him.

Nick dropped into his favorite spot on his sofa, and the familiarity it made him close his eyes with a deep sigh that ended in a choked sob.

"S'okay, Nicky," Warrick sat down beside him. He was glad Nick's couch was a comfortable one, because he suspected it would be doubling as his bed for quite some time.

"Hey, how's Nick?"

Warrick shook his head with a rueful grin. He was only twenty minutes into his shift and he'd already been asked that question a dozen times. He gave Jacqui the standard answer--"He's settling into the new place all right."

Jacqui was about to ask something else, but Grissom beckoned from his office doorway, "Warrick."

Giving Jacqui a quick smile, Warrick walked into Grissom's office, automatically closing the door behind him. "Hey, Gris," he said, taking a seat opposite his supervisor.

"Welcome back," Grissom said. "I've got a case for you, but first I have a question."

"How's Nick?" Warrick chuckled.

"When are you scheduled to see Dr. Kane?"

Taken aback, Warrick quickly scrambled his thoughts together. "Well, Nick's got Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. We don't want to over book the doc. What day do you go?"

Grissom blinked, then his lips twitched into a tiny smile. "Touché. But I'm not spending every hour of the day with Nick."

"Neither am I--anymore."

"As of today," Grissom clarified.

Warrick really didn't want to get into this with Grissom--or anyone, for that matter. "Are you going to keep me off the job ‘til I do?"

"No," Grissom admitted. "But I'll be keeping an eye on you."

Warrick gave him a half-smile. "Big surprise."

"Let's get you back to work, then," Grissom handed him an assignment slip. "There's a 419 out at the Lucky Seven. Vega's already there."

"I'm on it," Warrick took the slip and got up.

Grissom's voice stopped him before he opened the door. "You want to help Nick, don't you?"

Warrick spun back, "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"You won't be able to if your own stress begins clouding your judgement," Grissom pointed out, letting the statement hang in the silence.

"I hate it when you do that," Warrick scowled.

"I know," Grissom replied amiably. He looked at Warrick over the top of his glasses, "Just think about it, okay?"

Warrick nodded and made his escape. He had to answer the "how's Nick?" question a few more times on his way out, but eventually reached his Tahoe. As he buckled in and started the engine, he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, feeling himself begin to relax for the first time since--well, since.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was a relief to know exactly what he was going to deal with for the next several hours. The who, the what, the how and the why might all be mysteries, but he already knew exactly how he had to proceed without even knowing any details. It was a huge change from the Nick Stokes minefield he'd been trying to navigate for nearly a month. What Warrick found odd was that things had somehow become more difficult in the week since Nick had left Avalon Springs rather than easier.

Difficult enough that Warrick had spent the week on Nick's couch rather than in his own home and had no idea when he would feel comfortable enough to leave Nick alone for any length of time. He'd even considered using up another week's vacation but worried that would send up a red flag about him among management.

On the surface, Nick seemed to be improving. The jags had all but disappeared, and sleeping in his own bed also seemed to have cut down on Nick's nightmares. There were some days, though, when Nick would appear with red eyes and drawn features as evidence that they hadn't disappeared completely. That worried Warrick a great deal, because it indicated that all that had really changed was that Warrick could no longer hear the nightmares from the living room. It also left him wondering if that was also the case with the jags--it would be just like Nick to go into the bathroom or bedroom rather than "subject" Warrick to them any longer.

One bright spot was that Nick had indeed settled contentedly into his new home. Once Nick unpacked the rest of his things and rearranged the place to his satisfaction, a lot of townhouse's coldness seemed to disappear. Other than that, though, there really wasn't a great deal to be happy about.

Nick was much harder to talk to now--the subject of his burial had been sent back to things verböten almost the moment he'd stepped inside the townhouse. In fact, Nick seemed to be growing more distant every day. Part of Warrick thought it could simply be that Nick was out of things to say to him at the moment, which was understandable considering the time they spent together. That part of Warrick insisted going back to work could be helpful in giving them a break from one another's company. After all, they had been spending an extraordinary amount of time together, even for such good friends--Warrick stoically refused to consider any other sort of relationship at this point. There was another part of him, though, that worried spending time alone might only make Nick draw further into himself. That was also the part that poked at Warrick and said he was staying because of what he wanted, not because it was best for Nick.

As he pulled up next to Vega's Taurus outside the Lucky Seven, Warrick resigned himself to the idea that he would have to see Dr. Phillip Kane at some point, if only to stop the warring voices of his conscience.

Climbing out of the Tahoe, Warrick grabbed his kit from the back and forcibly cleared his mind of everything except the case in front of him.

"Hey, welcome back," Vega greeted him. "How's Nick?"

Warrick made enough progress on his first case that Grissom handed him a second one. As he moved from to prints to trace to DNA, he felt his mood improving. He was so involved in his cases that he kept at them until well past the end of shift. When he finally did notice the time, he decided to go straight to Nick's rather than home first.

Several blocks away from his destination, Warrick found himself two cars behind a familiar truck that--as far as he knew--should be in Nick's driveway. As he got closer to Nick's, Warrick realized something must be going on, because it definitely was Nick's truck and Nick hadn't gone anywhere except Dr. Kane's office since leaving Avalon Springs. He had told Nick to call him if anything came up, so why hadn't he?

As he pulled up behind Nick, Warrick didn't know whether to be worried or pissed off, although he was leaning toward the latter. Then Nick got out of the driver's side and threw a smile back at Warrick. It wasn't one of those 500-watt dazzlers Nick used to toss around so easily, but it was better than anything Warrick had seen from him in a while.

Warrick quickly got out and joined him. "What the hell, Nick?"

"Kind of a dumb thing to be happy about, huh?" Nick grabbed a bag of groceries from the truck.

Now that he was closer, Warrick could see the fine sheen of sweat on Nick's face that had nothing to do with the weather. That, and a smile that looked painful rather than happy set off a myriad of alarm bells. "You went to the store?"

"Big deal, right?" Nick continued as they walked into the house. "But Dr. Kane seems to think it is. He keeps asking where I went and how often and why wasn't I going anywhere..."

"And?"

"I don't know why," Nick said with another smile. This one didn't get any closer to his eyes than the last one had. "But I have another session tomorrow, so I figured I wanted to have something positive to talk about--progress, yeah?"

Warrick decided not to comment on Nick's definition of progress. "Was it tough?"

A shrug. "I did it, that's the main thing."

"I'm not following."

"In two weeks I have an evaluation to go back to work."

Warrick needed extra time to process that sentence. Finally he asked, "You're not taking more time?"

"Not if I can help it," Nick laughed.

Today the part of Nick Stokes will be played by Nick Stokes.

"So what was it like to be back?" Nick asked.

Although he desperately wanted to, Warrick knew that both of them lying through their teeth wasn't going to help anything. "Good. Everyone asked about you."

Nick nodded and started putting groceries away, flashing Warrick another smile first.

The more he saw that smile, the more it reminded Warrick of rictus. Don't you dare run, you asshole. Just because things are starting to get freaky is no reason to turn tail. "So...if I go home for a few hours to crash, you'll be okay?"

"Of course," Nick said. "Jeez, Rick, you must be so sick of babysitting me." Then he gave a chuckle that knotted Warrick's insides more.

"I'll be by around four or so--before I go to work," Warrick promised, then fled.

* * *

When Catherine cornered him in the break room several days later, it was actually something of a relief. "Who does he think he's fooling?" were the first words out of her mouth.

Warrick didn't even pause in pouring his coffee. "Himself?"

Catherine held out her cup. "Then he's the only one." She grabbed a pack of sweetener and shook it as he filled her cup as well, "Do you know he's planned to come back to work in a couple of weeks?"

"I know," Warrick slumped into a chair at the table.

"You don't think Kane is going to clear him for work, do you?"

Warrick shook his head, "I don't know."

"Stop with the tiny little answers, Warrick," Catherine scowled as she sat down opposite him.

"Just let me get my shit together, Cath," Warrick returned. "I'm just glad to find out I'm not the only one seeing it."

"Oh, don't worry, you're not. Sara came to talk to me about it, she's really worried. And apparently Greg's spooked."

Warrick nodded to say he wasn't really surprised to hear it. With each passing day, the shell of Nick Stokes seemed to harden around the real man more and more. There was nothing mean or threatening about this new persona, and it held many of the qualities of the man they'd fought so hard to save, but it was almost as if--"We never actually got him out."

"Don't say that!"

Snapped back to the break room, Warrick met fierce blue eyes. "Sorry."

"What does Grissom have to say about it?"

"I haven't actually discussed it with him," Warrick admitted. "Grissom still visits nearly every day, but Nick's not like that with him."

"What's he like with Grissom?"

"Same as always. Seems embarrassed. Doesn't say much. I still don't know what that's about."

Catherine stared into her coffee cup for answers. "Kane's not actually going to clear him for work. I just can't see it."

"I--" Warrick sighed. "To a lot of people, he seems to be doing okay. When you look at it technically, there's nothing wrong with his behavior."

Catherine stared at him in disbelief.

"I think he probably could pass an evaluation," Warrick said reluctantly.

"Good god."

"Maybe this is...who he is now."

"Then you're right," Catherine whispered. "We didn't get him out."

* * *

Warrick continued to go to Nick's every day after his shift ended, and a few hours before each shift began. As E-day--Nick's term for his evaluation--approached, though, Warrick found himself less and less able to endure the sham pretending to be the man he'd fallen in love with and his visits grew shorter. If Nick noticed, he certainly didn't show it, and continued to shower Warrick with that ghastly sunniness of his.

For his part, Warrick did his best to just maintain and keep from grabbing Nick and shaking him. "So what are you up to today?" he asked, just as he did after every post-shift visit.

"Doctor's appointment in a few hours--medical, that is. Got to pass the physical before I can get anywhere else." Nick offered Warrick the coffee pot, but Warrick shook his head. "Right, you're going home to sleep. Man, I'm gonna have to start switching up my sleeping patterns soon."

Warrick attempted what he hoped was a smile. He knew it was a miserable attempt. Stifles the gag reflex be damned. His stomach didn't think much of this new Nick, either.

"Then...uh...oh hell." Nick snapped his fingers, "Stanley. Y'know, Stanley from Personnel? He's coming by with a bunch of forms for me to fill out. Get my paperwork all in order."

"He's coming here?"

Nick grinned--

Oh god help us, that's even worse than when he tries to smile...

--and nodded. "I told him I could go in, but he said he'd like the excuse to get out of the office."

Warrick quickly went over that information in his head. Stanley Powers was a middle-aged paper pusher who loved to hear CSI and cop stories. He never displayed the slightest desire to go anywhere near the field himself, but liked to feel he was part of things nonetheless. Annoying at times, but easily set back in his place, Warrick knew Stanley would accept this new Nick hook, line and sinker--if he noticed a "new" Nick at all.

"After that, I've got to make another grocery run. Or if I get the okay from my doctor, maybe the gym."

Please don't let him get an okay--from any doc. "I'll see you tonight before work then," Warrick said and made his escape.

He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

Warrick was tempted to blow off his usual visit to Nick's before work. He didn't care to hear how good old Stanley had everything lined up for Nick's return. He decided instead to visit just before six. Then he wasn't shirking any responsibility, but he would have time to shake the visit off before going in to work. He knocked on the door and walked in, as had become his habit. Today, though, he found himself in the dark--literally. Every shade was drawn and once Warrick closed the door behind him, only the barest light peeked in the windows.

Oh shit.

"Nick?" he called.

"How did you find me?"

Warrick jumped and turned toward the source of the voice. It was the black wing chair angled near the sofa, but he had never seen Nick sit in it before. "You live here, man. What are you talking about?"

A few moments of silence, then that flat voice again. "In the box. How did you find me?"

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Warrick didn't know exactly what was off, but something was--terribly. He decided to stall until he found out what was going on. "I thought--you mean you don't know?"

"I always told myself it wasn't important. That all that mattered was that you had got me out."

Hearing that Nick-but-not-Nick voice coming out of the darkness was thoroughly unnerving, but Warrick managed to maintain his composure. "I figured Kane would have told you."

"He didn't."

"I guess. You wouldn't really let anyone talk about anything to do with it."

"I've changed my mind. So talk."

Warrick was suddenly acutely aware that his gun had been left in the Tahoe. He'd been afraid for Nick many times, but had never had reason to be afraid of Nick.

"Talk, Warrick."

Until now.

"How did you find me?"

"How ‘bout some light in here, huh?"

"Fine."

Relieved, Warrick felt around for the switch and turned the light on.

Nick was sitting stiffly in the chair, his hands gripping the armrests so hard that his knuckles had turned white. At the moment, he was looking up. "Hunh. I never noticed before." His voice was wondering, "The fan is connected to the light here, too."

Warrick glanced up at the ceiling fan. "Fuck, Nicky."

Nick focused on Warrick, his features like marble. "So why is it I'm so lucky to work with a famous entomologist, Rick?"

"Famous..?" Warrick put a hand against the wall so he had some feeling of balance.

"Stanley mentioned how lucky I was that Grissom could identify fire ants so easily."

Warrick made a mental note to kick Stanley's ass.

"I thought--that is, when I heard about the daughter...Kelly Gordon, yeah?"

Mute, Warrick could only nod.

"I thought you got the location from her, but you couldn't have. Not if it had to do with fire ants."

"No," Warrick kept his voice low. "It looks like she didn't know anything about it."

"Then how?"

"Grissom said the ants could only be found in...like a plant nursery. We narrowed it down to a single one and followed the transmitter signal."

Nick twitched, then shook his head slowly. "Trans-transmitter signal?"

Warrick took a cautious step closer. He knew the pieces had to be coming together for Nick and was stunned this had never come up before. "Transmitter signal," he repeated carefully. "From the feed."

Impossibly, Nick grew even whiter. "Feed?" his voice was hollow. "Feed?"

"Video feed."

A hideous, gurgled cry tore from Nick's throat and he bolted for the bathroom.

The sound of retching finally pulled Warrick from his stunned, frozen state and he followed Nick into the bathroom. Nick was hunched over the toilet, his muscles taut as his body tried to expel stomach contents that were no longer there. Without a second thought, Warrick grabbed two hand towels and soaked them under the tap under they were icy. He pressed one to the back of Nick's neck as he crouched beside his shaking friend.

"How long?" Nick demanded, not lifting his head.

"The feed?" Warrick wanted to lie, but knew that turning back now wouldn't help anything. "Do you remember the first time the light went on?"

"Oh...oh god..." the pained groan escaped him before another round of heaves made his entire body tighten and shake.

Warrick waited until the shudders had stopped, then took Nick by the shoulders and drew him away. Nick pulled back and huddled against the wall. "Okay," Warrick tried to sound soothing rather than frightened. "Here," he held out the other wet towel. "Let me just..."

Nick snatched it away from him, and shoved almost half of it into his mouth. It wasn't enough to stop the gut-wrenching sobs that began to erupt from his throat.

"Nick..." Warrick risked reaching out to grab the hand holding the towel in place. "Nick, don't. You're gonna choke yourself." He couldn't have said whether the raspy, broken sounds spilling from Nick were screams or sobs--he only knew they were painful. "Nick...come on, Nicky..."

Nick finally mustered enough control to speak. "I started to suspect a while ago...things I heard, but I thought--I hoped you would tell me something different." He started banging his head against the tiled wall behind him. "It...it was going away!" A hard bang to emphasize each word. "I had it...I was making it go away! But now...if there's...if people saw..."

"Nicky," Warrick whispered. "Did you really think...you can't make it go away, Nicky."

A high, strangled sound escaped from between Nick's clenched teeth. He ground his knuckles into his eyes as though trying to blind himself, and the banging became more insistent with every blow.

"Nick...Nick, stop hurting yourself."

This time when Warrick touched him, Nick tried to launch himself to his feet but only got about halfway up before coming down hard on his knees and elbows. "I...want it...gone!" he wailed into the cold tile beneath him. "I can't do...I can't...people saw me...oh please--I can't do it!"

Nick banged his forehead once against the floor and then Warrick had him in a tight embrace, his arms wrapped around the quivering body to prevent Nick from doing any more damage to himself. After struggling for several minutes, Nick gave up and sagged against the strong arms around him.

"Warrick..." a broken, defeated whimper.

"I'm here, Nicky. I've got you," Warrick soothed.

"No more..." Nick pleaded tearfully. "No more...I want out, Warrick...I want out, but I can't--I can't--" His muscles tightened again, and another ragged scream ripped free. And another. And another.

Doggedly, Warrick held on, not willing to risk Nick hurting himself further. Tears kept clouding his vision, but he managed to keep his voice steady when he spoke to Nick. "We got you out once, Nick. This will just take a bit longer, but we'll get you out. I promise, Nicky. I promise."

The screams only stopped when Nick's breath gave out, leaving equally violent tremors in their wake.

Warrick shifted off his knees so he was sitting on the bathroom floor. Nick leaned weakly against the sturdy form behind him, gasping for air and still choking on his sobs. "It's real..." he moaned helplessly. "You saw, people saw...oh god, it's real."

"Christ, Nicky," Warrick rested his forehead on top of Nick's head. "Did you really think you could make it not real?"

"I was!" Nick insisted desperately. "It was--it was one day! One day..." his breathing grew erratic. "One day is not a reason to--to...I can barely stay in my shower longer enough to get clean...I can't get anything out of the cooler at the store...I have to make coffee with my eyes closed because the grounds can look like...every time the wind blows and I taste dirt, I..."

"There's nothing wrong with any of that, Nick. It makes perfect sense to--"

"You aren't listening!" The pitch and volume of Nick's voice rose until it cracked. "One day! It sh-shouldn't being doing this! I shouldn't be doing this!"

"You're being too hard on yourself," Warrick kept his voice soft and steady. "You have every right to--"

"I. Don't. WANT. IT!" Nick strained against Warrick's arms briefly, then went limp. "Please...I don't want to be this person."

"I know, Nicky. You don't want to be a victim." Warrick settled Nick against him once again. "If there was any way to make it not real, any one of us–any one of us--would do it." His voice finally broke, but after swallowing a few times, he was able to keep going. "We can't make it go away any more than you can. You just have to ride it out, Nicky."

His body still shaking with silent sobs, Nick reached up to clutch at the arms around his chest. "Warrick..."

"I gotcha, Nicky," Warrick soothed. "I gotcha."

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere, Nick. I'm not leaving you."

"Not this time..."

There was nothing accusatory about the words--it was almost as though Nick was reassuring them both, but it made Warrick squeeze his eyes shut to keep back the tears. "I promise, Nicky. I didn't want to leave then, either. I would have gotten us both killed if it hadn't been for Grissom."

"Grissom." Nick's voice was barely audible. "How...how did he...why did he call me Pancho?"

Warrick had to think about that for a few minutes. "I think...your dad called you that...and you called your dad Cisco at some point, didn't you?"

"You could hear me?" Nick sounded freshly horrified.

"No, no. But someone mentioned--I think it was Cath--that Grissom reads lips and she thinks he must have--" Warrick broke off when a low keening came from Nick's throat. "Nick?"

"Oh no...nononononono..."

"Nick..."

Nick tightened his grip on Warrick's arms. "It--oh god...it was...bad en-enough wh-when...only I knew...but this...now--n-now..." His words dissolved into incoherence again.

"Nicky, what are you talking about?" Warrick asked, but realized at once that he wouldn't get anymore words out of the shattered man in his arms.

All his strength seemed to have left Nick, and like that first night in the hospital, he only wept and shook uncontrollably.

Warrick risked unwinding one arm so he could retrieve the towel that had slid from Nick's neck--the one Nick had bitten down on had been thrown in a far corner. Gently, he wiped Nick's sweaty, tear-stained face and felt Nick relax slightly under his ministrations.

Leaning back against the door, Warrick tried to bring his own fractured nerves back to some semblance of normalcy. After several minutes and many long, deep breaths, he'd finally decided on his next move. "Nicky?"

A hitch in Nick's breath was the only indication that he'd heard.

"Do you really want to stay here on the floor? We could go sit on the sofa, or you could lie down."

"Sl-sleep..." Nick whispered longingly.

"Okay." With some maneuvering, Warrick managed to get them both up. "Probably the best thing for you." He half-led, half-carried Nick to his bed. "I'm gonna get you some water, okay? You're gonna be dehydrated after that." He saw the dark eyes widen in alarm, "I'm not leaving you, Nicky, okay? I'll be in your kitchen. Y'know what? I'll just talk the whole way." He then proceeded to do just that, rambling on about bottled water as he got a bottle from Nick's fridge and returned.

Nick had turned onto his side, his knees drawn up and his entire frame still shaking.

Warrick brought a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. "Come on, Nick. Drink some."

With Warrick helping, Nick managed to prop himself up and take several long sips. With another shuddering sigh, he fell back against his pillow.

"Try to sleep, Nick," Warrick urged, tugging several blankets out from under Nick and covering him. "I know it was awful, but it needed to happen," he added, just realizing it himself as he spoke. It had been--still was--painful and heartbreaking to endure, but it was no longer unnatural. He was dealing with Nick, and as long as that was the case, Warrick felt he could handle nearly anything.

Once Nick fell into an exhausted sleep, clutching Warrick's hand with both of his. With his free hand, Warrick dug into his jacket pocket--he'd never even had the chance to take it off--and took out his cell phone. He punched in a speed dial and waited.

"Grissom."

"Gris? It's Warrick." Much to Warrick's surprise, his voice suddenly thickened. "Uh..."

"What is it?"

"I won't be in tonight."

"Are you sick?"

"No. No, not me," Warrick said pointedly, hoping Grissom would get the gist.

He did. "Nicky?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"Crash and burn," Warrick sighed. "I think he's back to square one."

Grissom didn't speak, but Warrick heard an equally unhappy sigh on his end.

"I need more time off. I'm going to be staying with him again."

"You've got another week of vacation coming. I can try to get you some more leave after that, but I don't think--"

"I don't care what you write down," Warrick stated flatly. "This time I'm not leaving Nick until I'm positive he'll be okay alone. With pay, without pay, with a job or not. I'm not leaving ‘til he's ready."

"You won't lose your job," Grissom assured him. "I'll make sure of that. And I'll see what I can do about the rest. You just take care of Nicky. And yourself, Warrick."

"Yeah, yeah," Warrick replied automatically, having barely heard what Grissom said because Nick had already begun murmuring plaintively in his sleep. "Look, I gotta go."

"All right. I'll be by after the shift--well, tomorrow."

"Sure. See ya, Gris." Warrick turned off his phone and dropped in on Nick's night stand. He couldn't make out Nick's words, but it didn't matter. Warrick petted the dark hair and crooned reassurance to the troubled dreamer, and when Nick quieted, settled himself comfortably for a long night.

Warrick flipped through Nick's latest copy of Forensic Science Review, balancing it easily on his leg with one hand. Nick had shown signs of several more nightmares since falling asleep, but thus far Warrick had been able to soothe them away before they got too intense without actually waking Nick.

When a knock sounded at Nick's door, Warrick considered ignoring it, but it soon became obvious the knocker was not going to give up. When the door knob rattled then turned, Warrick carefully disengaged his hand from Nick's and left the bedroom. Catherine was just coming in the door.

"Hey," he said in a low voice, waving her over to the bedroom door so he could keep an eye on Nick.

"Hey," Catherine spoke quietly as well. She peeked in at Nick. "How is he?"

"Quiet now--more or less." Warrick wiped his face as the last two hours finally impacted. "It was...scary."

Catherine's eyes widened at the admission. "That bad?"

"So bad." Warrick shook his head, "He found out about the feed."

"He didn't know?"

"It was a really bad wake-up call," Warrick leaned heavily against the door frame. "He had practically convinced himself it never happened."

Catherine winced, "Well, that does explain a lot."

"Gris called you?"

"He said you were staying here with Nick again, so I thought I'd see if you needed anything."

Warrick glanced in at Nick again. "I'm not sure what kind of shape he'll be in now, but yeah, I was going to get some stuff from my place."

"I'll stay with Nick while you do."

"Okay, thanks. I'll just go tell him."

Catherine caught his arm. "He's sleeping, Warrick. You're going to wake him up just for that?"

Warrick hesitated, then said, "Look, I told him I wasn't leaving, okay? I don't really want him waking up and finding I'm not there."

For a moment Catherine looked as though she wanted to tell him he was ridiculous, but then her expression softened. "You're not taking any chances, are you?"

"None."

Catherine nodded, then released his arm and followed him into the bedroom.

Warrick sat on the edge of the bed and shook Nick slightly. "Hey, Nick...Nicky."

For all Warrick's gentleness, Nick still startled awake with a frightened cry.

"Easy, Nick," Warrick rubbed his arm. "Sorry to wake you, but I'm gonna be gone for a bit. Gotta go back to my place to grab a few things so I can stay here for a while."

"You don't have to babysit me," Nick's voice was weak and hoarse.

"Save it, buddy," Warrick cut off any other protests. "Cath is going to stay with you, okay?"

"Thanks, Rick," Nick's voice wavered.

"Okay." Warrick relinquished his spot to Catherine.

"Hiya, Nicky."

Warrick listened to the murmur of voices from the living room for a moment before heading out. Once at his apartment, he threw everything he'd need for at least a few days into a bag and closed his place up again.

The entire trip took just over half an hour, and when Warrick got back, Nick had fallen asleep again. He left his bag by the sofa and met Catherine at the bedroom door. "It's like those first few days at the hospital all over again," she whispered.

"I know."

"He went back to sleep before long. I told him you'd be back when he woke up." She chewed her lip hesitantly, "He seems really dependant on you, Warrick."

"That's okay," Warrick said. "I'm here for him."

"Grissom didn't make you follow through on your visit to Dr. Kane, did he?" The blue eyes had narrowed slightly.

"No," Warrick said simply before going into the bedroom. He heard Catherine sigh, but when looked back at the door, she was gone. Noting that Nick was sleeping peacefully, Warrick sat down and picked up the magazine again.

Halfway through an article on new spatter analysis techniques, a steaming cup of coffee was held under his nose. Catherine smiled when he looked up in surprise, "I made a fresh pot for you. I'm gonna head home now. There's some soup in the kitchen that you just have to nuke for a few minutes, so make sure Nick has some at some point--and don't you forget to eat, either."

"Scout's honor," Warrick promised, taking the mug gratefully.

"You were never a Boy Scout, Warrick," Catherine smiled. "I'll be by tomorrow, okay? Take care."

"Okay. Thanks, Cath."

After another concerned look, Catherine took her leave.

Nick slept another four hours before waking in the midst of a nightmare. It took several minutes for him to calm down and when he had, he threw back his covers and got up.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Warrick stood up as well.

"Living room," Nick said, wincing at the sound of his abused voice.

"Are you sure you should?"

"Warrick, I'm okay." Nick noted his friend's expression. "Well, not okay okay, but I didn't suddenly become an invalid, either."

Warrick nodded his understanding. "I don't know if the coffee is still any good..."

"No, I don't want any coffee," Nick wandered into the kitchen. "I don't like drinking coffee much any more."

"You've had coffee every day," Warrick frowned.

"Well, yeah..." Nick poured himself a big glass of orange juice. "I mean, I drank coffee before, so I figured--" The glass in his hand started to shake and Nick quickly set it on the counter. "It seems I only like cold drinks right now. The steam can make me feel like I can't breathe..."

"Then why drink--" Warrick sighed. "What's your rush, Nick? Your job will be there no matter how long it takes."

"Six weeks..."

"Six weeks was the earliest you could be back at work. But Jesus, Nick, no one expected you to be back by then."

"No, that would be way too much to expect from the guy freaking in the box," Nick began to choke up.

"Don't go there, Nick. That's not true. I don't know why you think you've got something to be ashamed of because of what we saw, but you don't."

"I don't want to talk about--"

"What we saw on that feed--"

Nick tried to push past Warrick, but was blocked.

"No, Nick, I think you have to hear this. There's nothing on there for you to be embarrassed by. I'm not going to kid you that it was easy to watch--it hurt like hell to see. And I know that however bad it was–look at me, Nick," Warrick kept ducking down in an attempt to catch Nick's eye. "However bad it was for us, it was a hundred times worse for you." He took a deep breath, still not sure he was doing the right thing by making Nick hear this now, "Nick, I saw when you shot out the light."

"Okay, enough," Nick whispered, his eyes firmly fastened on the floor.

"I'm not done. When I saw you put the gum in your ears, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what you were doing. And when you picked up your gun, I forgot all about the gum because I thought you were going to finish everything..." Warrick voice wavered slightly at the memory.

That made Nick look up. "I'm sorry."

Warrick cleared his throat and shook his head firmly, "That's not the point. The point is that I had no idea what the gum was for all that day and for a few days after, even though it's so damn obvious. I was safe and I couldn't even think straight enough to follow. That you shot that light out was cool, but that you were together enough to still protect your ears was goddamn beautiful. And Sara said when the ants--"

Nick dropped his gaze to the floor again. "No more. Please, Warrick."

"Okay," Warrick lifted Nick's head to make their eyes meet. "No more, but you've got to hear this. You did good, Nicky. You've got nothing to prove to anybody--you proved everything when you were inside that damn box."

Fresh tears filled the dark eyes, then spilled over when Nick shook his head violently. "Y-you don't know...I was--I was so scared..."

"Christ, of course you were," Warrick rubbed Nick's upper arms, hoping to allay some of the shivering.

"Of everything!" Nick choked, despite his desperate attempt to control his tears. "Of dying. Of living w-with brain damage. Of running out of air and s-suffocating. Of not running out of air and starving. Of the box cracking and being cr-crushed. Of having t-to feel the ants pick m-me apart bit by b-bit. Of dying alone and n-never being f-found. Of wh-whoever it was coming back and doing s-something worse..." Nick lost the battle with his sobs and blindly stepped toward Warrick for solace.

Warrick immediately enveloped him in a strong embrace, "Every one of those things makes perfect sense, Nicky," he soothed. Warrick kept up a mindless litany of comforting words and sounds, while he waged a silent battle inside himself. Although Nick was crying and shaking, it was still Nick he had in his arms and that felt wonderful, but the moment that thought occurred to him, Warrick hated himself for deriving any sort of pleasure from Nick's obvious anguish.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Nick shifted away, even though his sobs had stopped some time before that. "Sorry," he muttered, wiping his eyes.

"Look, I know you aren't exactly together," Warrick's own voice was none too steady. "But if you keep apologizing, I'm gonna have to pop you one."

That got a watery chuckle before Nick picked up the glass of orange juice again--with both hands--and downed more that half of it in one go. Then he got the pitcher and refilled it.

"So what are you going to do now?" Warrick asked, resisting the urge to pour Nick's juice for him. "Gonna get some more sleep?"

"No. I was...I've got one more DVD in that Audubon set. I was gonna watch that." Nick grabbed a paper towel to do a better job of drying his eyes.

"Okay. You want something to eat?"

Nick considered, then shook his head. He watched Warrick pour himself another cup of coffee, then moved into the living room to find the DVD.

Warrick settled himself on the sofa, and considered catching a little shut-eye himself while Nick was watching god-knew-what-kind-of-birds this time. At least it's not as bad as that extra twangy country shit he listens to when he thinks no one else can hear. That had been one of the minor surprises Warrick had encountered while spending so much time with Nick. While his music collection looked like the average MOR, reasonably hip assortment of CDs, Nick also loved old school, one-step-beyond-country-and-western country and western music--he just rarely played it around his co-workers to avoid teasing.

As for the Audubon DVD, Warrick didn't have to watch it for very long. After about twenty minutes, Nick was sound asleep, so Warrick switched to ESPN.

* * *

Nick was usually quite intense after one of his sessions with Dr. Kane, but today he had lost the battle with his tears and was shaking so badly that Warrick had to fasten his seat belt for him. Warrick wasn't especially surprised by Nick's state, considering that the past 15 hours had been much tougher than usual. For both of them, if Warrick was going to be completely honest about it.

Grissom stopped in after his shift, as promised. Warrick had neglected to mention it to Nick for fear he would conveniently be asleep when their boss arrived--he still wasn't sure that had been the right thing to do, though. The conversation was as uncomfortable as ever on Gil's part but had moved into excruciating on Nick's. Warrick had been tempted to press the issue of the feed, but he thought Nick had been pushed more than enough and he wasn't even sure it was his place to do it.

As a result of that early morning visit, Nick had already been rattled when Warrick dropped him off in front of Dr. Kane's building. So much so that Warrick didn't find somewhere else to pass the time but waited in the parking lot just in case Nick decided to cut his session short.

Nick did stay the entire time, but the effort was obvious.

"Ready?"

Nick leaned back wearily in his seat. "Yeah, let's go," he managed.

"Bad one, huh?" asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Depends on who you ask, I guess." Nick sniffled a bit and swiped at his eyes. "I don't know how he understood a thing I was saying when I was bawling so hard. And then at the end, he says we're finally making progress."

Warrick bit back a grin at the indignation that was so apparent despite the catches in Nick's voice.

Eyes closed, Nick was quiet for the rest of the ride while Warrick concentrated on his driving and let Nick digest whatever had happened. They rode in surprisingly comfortable silence until they approached Nick's house and Warrick saw a C-Class parked on the street in front of it. "What the hell?"

Nick opened his eyes. "What?" He followed Warrick's gaze.

Then the driver got out and both men groaned in unison. "Ecklie."

Nick's scrubbed at his face. "Wonder what he wants."

"If you don't feel up to it, I can tell him to come back some other time," Warrick didn't need to add that he would enjoy doing it, too.

"No, better not," Nick got out of the truck.

"Warrick, Nick," Conrad said with the grimace that passed for a smile with him.

"Hey, Conrad," Nick said while Warrick merely nodded.

"I need to talk to you, Nick, if you don't mind."

Warrick wanted to answer, but Nick merely nodded and gestured for Ecklie to come inside with them. Nick immediately took his place on the sofa, but Warrick remained standing.

So did Ecklie. "How, er, how are you doing, Nick?"

"I don't know," Nick replied.

His honesty seemed to throw Ecklie off momentarily. "I'm sorry to hear that. You see, I was hoping you could handle a press conference of some sort."

"You gotta be kidding me!" Warrick practically snarled.

Nick looked sick at the thought. "My--my parents spoke to the press after I was found."

"I'm aware of that. But the only reason that the press didn't go after it more is that the whole Councilman Allridge and Miss Nevada scandal broke the same day."

"Councilman Allridge and Miss Nevada?" Nick's eyebrows rose. He hadn't paid any attention to current events lately.

"But it's dying down a bit now and there's not a whole lot happening," Ecklie continued. "The press will be starting to concern themselves with you again."

"I don't want any press," Nick protested.

"The choice isn't exactly yours."

"I can't go in front of a bunch of people and talk about--" Nick stopped abruptly and clenched his teeth. Warrick could tell he was determined not to lose it in front of Ecklie.

"Look, you can't make him do this," Warrick snapped.

"I'm not here to make him," Ecklie bit back. "But if we don't give them something, they'll start looking on their own. They haven't got his new address yet, but it wouldn't take too long for someone to find it."

"Here..?" Nick's voice was starting to waver. "Why would they bother? I'm not famous or anything. They can't...I don't want..." He stopped talking again and dropped his head.

Ecklie obviously didn't have the faintest idea how to respond to Nick when he was like this. "Look, uh...Nick. If the press conference is no go, another statement from you could do the trick. If the department released it and it was suitably bland, the press could lose interest. Especially considering that this Allridge thing is bound to fire up again--I've heard that Mrs. Allridge and a couple of NFL all-stars are about to enter the picture."

"Really," Warrick was impressed in spite of himself.

"Tell them whatever you want, Conrad," Nick said. Warrick questioned the wisdom of giving Ecklie that much power, but let Nick handle it himself. "As long as they leave me alone, it's fine."

Ecklie seemed quite surprised as well. "There's nothing specific you want said?"

Nick shook his head.

Ecklie studied Nick in silence, his expression of perpetual sourness firmly in place. "I'll see what I can do, then. You, uh, you take care."

"Thanks," Nick's voice was low, but definitely sincere.

The man was obviously eager to make his escape, but Warrick could tell by Ecklie's expression that the assistant director also wanted to speak to him. "I'm just going to see Conrad out, Nick," he said in an equable tone he never used around Ecklie. At any other time Nick's reaction would have been amazement and then amusement, but now he just nodded again. "I'll be right back."

Ecklie reached his car before turning to speak to Warrick. "Grissom told me you wanted a few more days off. I could only manage four more before you go off pay."

"Whatever," Warrick shrugged.

"Catherine had a suggestion, though, since she said this is mostly about not leaving Nick alone."

"And?"

"I can put you back on swing temporarily. Then someone from graveyard or Catherine could stay with Nick while you're at work--until he can stay alone, that is." Ecklie's mouth twisted downward. "Shouldn't he be back in the hospital if he needs 24-hour care?"

"No, he shouldn't," Warrick replied so firmly that Ecklie let it drop.

"Fine. But in any case, before you come back to work on any shift, you're going to see Dr. Kane."

"Hell with that."

"Yeah, I know Gil let you skip it, but I'm not," Ecklie sounded just as determined on this point as Warrick had on his. "You want back on the job, I want a clean bill from Kane. If anything goes wrong out there while you're working, its not just your head on the chopping block, its Grissom's and mine. Grissom might be willing to stick his neck out like that, but I'm not."

"Man, that's so--"

"Every other CSI and lab tech directly involved in the case has had to do the same," Ecklie pointed out with a scowl. "I've been willing to give you a whole lot of leeway, but not that much."

Warrick didn't speak, but let out a low, frustrated breath.

"I'll call you with the appointment time," Conrad said, then got into his Mercedes and drove away, leaving Warrick fuming in Nick's driveway.

Warrick threw himself into the armchair across from the rotund black man and amped up his best glare.

Dr. Kane was not impressed. He had dealt with schizophrenics, psychopaths, mass murderers and serial rapists; it was going to take a lot more than a single, sullen, recovering gambler to rattle to him. "It sounds as though Nick has come to rely on you quite a bit, Warrick," he said conversationally.

Warrick's lip curled and there was an edge of triumph in his voice when he spoke. "That's doctor-patient privilege you're breaking. You could get in trouble for violating Nick's civil rights."

"Let's not get ridiculous," Kane returned amiably. "Do you think Nick is the only person I could learn something like that from?"

The scowl on Warrick's face deepened.

"Now if you would just step off the defensive maybe we could get something done."

Normally, Warrick got along well with Phillip Kane. He had needed Kane's opinion on various cases and had always trusted the man's insight. He knew how good Kane was at his job, and that was precisely what was worrying him. "What do you want to know?"

"What do you think I want to know?"

That particular trick of psychiatrists irritated Warrick like no other, but he forced himself to remain calm. "You want to hear how I'm handling what happened to Nick."

"And..?"

"And I'm handling it. End of story."

One corner of Kane's mouth twitched. "Nice try."

Warrick snorted. "You think I'm going to just spill my guts sitting here? That's not me. You want to know anything, you can ask."

Kane was silent for a moment. "Do you feel Nick has come to rely on you?"

"That's something you'd have to ask Nick."

"I'm asking you."

"I don't know. I know he can rely on me."

"I see," Kane nodded. "And that is because..."

"He's my best friend," Warrick finished in a well-duh tone.

"All right."

Kane looked so infuriatingly cool and even dubious about the situation that Warrick's temper began to fray. "Y'know what? If you had seen Nick in that box--have you seen any of the feed? Because if you had, you wouldn't even need to ask stupid questions like these."

"What went through your mind when you saw the feed?"

"Are you kidding me?" Warrick could barely believe the question. "What do you think went through my mind?"

"Did you feel guilty? Relieved?"

"Oh, I get it." And suddenly Warrick did--as easily as he used to spot a frat boy's sad excuse for a bluff. "Because we flipped for the scene? Yeah, I thought about that a lot. Relieved and then guilty because I felt relieved? Yeah, of course."

"So you would be watching Nick and feel relieved that--"

"Wait," Warrick shook his head. "When I was watching Nick? Was I thinking those things when I was watching Nick? Jesus, are you nuts? When I saw him on that feed all I thought--hell, I don't even know what I thought. I barely thought anything. That other stuff--I thought that when I was processing or driving or--not when I was watching Nicky."

Kane's eyebrows rose slightly. "All right--"

"Doc, just tell me what all this has to do with me being able to do my job."

"Your superiors are concerned about you."

"In other words--nothing. I've been doing my job, when I'm on the job. Just tell me what kind of hoops I have to jump through to keep doing it."

"Fine. One session every second week. For starters. And you have to participate."

"Participate. Isn't that what I'm doing now?"

"Very grudgingly," Kane gave him a pointed look.

"But good enough, right?"

Kane signed a paper in Warrick's folder and handed it to him. "Every second Monday or this is no longer viable. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough." Warrick took the paper and examined it, and as he did, several things clicked into place. The first was that it was something of a relief to discuss that hellish day without worrying much about what the listener thought. The second was that this was an awful lot like a poker game. As long as he didn't get greedy and go for the big, flashy win--getting out of the visits entirely, he might be able to remain on top. Lying was out of the question--Kane would spot it immediately--but as long as Warrick gave him enough truth and real emotion to satisfy his doctor's instincts, he might be able to get through his sessions without having to reveal his hand. And maybe pick up a few tips to help Nick deal with everything in the process. "So do I finish out the hour today or is this it?"

"Would you object to finishing the hour?"

"Not really," Warrick shrugged easily. "If it's gonna keep you happy and me on the job." He knew it sounded like he wanted to stay but didn't want to admit it, and again, there was enough truth in that to make in nearly impossible to spot the underlying bluff.

Warrick might have given up gambling, but some instincts were as sharp as ever.

* * *

Warrick eventually decided not to use up his vacation time--actually, Nick decided that for him by saying he wasn't going to be responsible for Warrick using up the last of his holidays--and made do with the four days extra leave Ecklie arranged for him. Those four days were largely spent trying to come up with a plan that he and Nick could agree to. The biggest stumbling block was not the time Warrick would be at work, but the hours he was asleep.

Nick agreed to Warrick staying on his sofa again, but he flatly refused the idea of someone else being there while they were sleeping. Warrick wanted this because he was worried about Nick's continued nightmares, and argued the point until Nick said-- "I don't want anyone sitting there watching me when I can't see them."

There was nothing Warrick could say to that.

It didn't occur to either man that Warrick had spent hours upon hours doing exactly that.

Nick insisted that if a nightmare wasn't bad enough to wake someone in the next room, then it was something he would deal with on his own. Warrick only agreed on the condition that Nick wake him if it took more than twenty minutes to get back to sleep.

Time when Warrick was at work would be filled by very long visits--hours long--from Nick's friends and colleagues and Nick would spend the rest of the time alone. Warrick wasn't thrilled with the amount of time Nick was by himself, but Nick claimed it was necessary. Arguing too long only added stress for Nick, so Warrick dropped it but was determined to remain alert to any negative changes.

In those few days following his "progress" visit with Kane, Nick would either talk for many, many minutes at a time or not at all. He would come out with comments that were bizarre and completely nonsensical until explained in context. Warrick realized after the first few times it happened that Nick was mentioning anything that triggered even the slightest flashback. Once he knew that, Warrick would listen or discuss it until Nick was finished. In this manner, Nick managed to diffuse several of his smaller triggers. The big ones--bright lights, the shower, the scent of bubble gum and bugs--could still shake him, often badly.

The day before Warrick was due to return to work, Nick decided to finally deal with one of his biggest triggers--Gil Grissom.

Grissom had continued to visit nearly every day and Warrick admired the man for his persistence. Grissom did he best to speak easily and normally to a man who could never look him in the eye.

So when Nick, out of the blue, asked, "How much did you hear?" Grissom was understandably thrown.

"How much did I hear?" he repeated blankly.

Nick took several deep breaths, looking as though he was already regretting his decision.

Warrick, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa, had the distinct feeling he ought to make himself scarce. "I'll...uh, I'm gonna go out for a walk, I think."

"No!"

The panicked note in Nick's voice was enough to make Warrick remain seated, and he exchanged a concerned look with Grissom.

"What is it you want to know, Nicky?" Grissom asked, and Warrick was reminded again how utterly gentle Gil's voice could be when necessary.

The dark eyes met Gil's only briefly, but it was the longest they had held since Nick was pulled from the ground. "You...if you can..." Nick stopped and tried to gather himself.

Gil sat relaxed in his chair, looking as though he had all the time in the world to hear whatever Nick wanted to say. Warrick tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible unless Nick needed help. Both men recognized that this particular step had to be entirely Nick's.

"You can...read lips," Nick's voice had thickened, but remained steady.

Gil tilted his head, curious. "Yes, I can."

"You saw me on the feed, yeah? When I made that audio tape? The one where I say goodbye to everyone..."

Warrick's stomach gave a sudden lurch at that revelation.

"...you saw that."

"Yes, I did," Gil agreed. Calm, no hesitation. Nothing to make it more difficult for Nick.

Nick made a visible effort to steady himself again. "You saw it all."

"Until the ants began attacking, yes."

A shudder ran through Nick's body. "I didn't get the chance to finish it before--well, I suppose that doesn't matter now."

"I think I know what this is about, Nick," Gil said quietly.

"Do you know why?"

Gil shook his head.

"Why I hate the idea of–-" Nick's voice caught, but he tried again. "Why the idea that I might--that I..." he had to stop completely, and closed his eyes.

"Never, Nicky. Truly."

Warrick remained silent, hardly daring to breath even though he would have given a month's pay to know what Gil was referring to, especially since Gil's words made Nick's eyes fill with tears.

Several swallows and a deep breath and Nick was ready to try again. "I just--I never expected...I mean, I thought the only way you'd even know about what I said was if--"

Gil sat forward in his chair, his expression pained. "We don't need to think about that."

"I know--always knew--you took a chance when you first hired me. A year's experience in a crime lab--none in the field...I wanted to make sure--I just always worried that..."

"I regretted my decision?" Gil finished with an incredulous smile. "Not once."

Nick's head fell forward until his chin rested on his chest, his shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you think otherwise, Nicky."

"It's my issue, really," Nick dashed a hand across his eyes but gamely kept going. "It just sometimes seemed as though I couldn't--"

Gil glanced at Warrick before he spoke, "I will admit to...worrying about you, but never because I though you were incapable." He glanced at Warrick again and Warrick nodded his understanding.

Nick frowned slightly, but didn't bring up the obvious argument.

"The way you handled yourself...underground--" Gil couldn't stop himself from hesitating over the word. "Was impressive."

Incredibly high praise from someone like Grissom. As much as he may have wanted to hear them, Nick was embarrassed by the words. "I know it's ridiculous of me to want you to--I mean, you found me...you figured out how to get me out of there...for me to--" Nick fell silent for a few seconds, almost cringing before risking another glance at Gil. "I'm sorry. God, I have no right to ask for any sort of...anything. You did everything anyone could..."

Gil gave Warrick a helpless look when Nick began to shake.

"I'm sorry, Gris," Nick was choking up. "I'm acting like you...you owe me something wh-when you've already done ev-everything you w-were supposed to...I'm sorry. This was a b-big mistake...I'm sorry."

"Nicky," Gil had moved to the very edge of his chair. "Nicky, look at me, please. Okay, just listen to me. The searching, the rescue effort...none of it was out of some sense of duty. Not for me, not for any of us. It was because we can't do without you, Nicky."

Warrick watched those deep, dark eyes that were fastened unwaveringly on Gil's face as Nick drank in every word. Although he was glad Nick was finally hearing something he'd desperately needed to hear, Warrick felt a momentary frission of...that couldn't be..? It was gone so quickly that Warrick didn't have much chance to identify it. He knew that it couldn't be jealousy, though, because this was helping Nick and after all, Grissom was his mentor as well.

Tears glistened briefly on Nick's lashes before dropping. Gil and Warrick remained silent, waiting to take their next cue from Nick. Normally, Warrick would have filled the silence, but this wasn't one of Nick's usual jags and it didn't seem like his place this time.

The warble of a cell phone cut through the silence and made all three men jump.

"Sorry," Gil muttered, flipping his phone open. "Grissom....No, I wasn't sleeping....Yeah, okay. Jim, I'll have to call you back....Yeah, well so is this." He disconnected the call and looked at Nick.

"Brass?" Nick was still a little teary, but had his voice under control.

"Yeah," Gil hadn't moved back to his usual posture. "Nick--"

"Break in a case?"

"Brass got a lead on the Brackmahn homicide."

"I heard about that one," Nick seemed calmer with each word. "You've been waiting for a break for weeks."

"We have," Gil admitted. "But, Nicky, we were in the middle of something. I don't want to take off before we're done."

Nick's eyes were wide. "Gris..." he sounded as though his world had tilted on its axis. "It's a case..."

Gil studied Nick for several minutes. "Are you going to be okay with this, Nicky? If I go now?"

"Yeah," Nick said immediately, but then hesitated. He looked at Warrick, and when he got an encouraging nod, he turned back to Gil. "Yeah. I'm good. I'll be fine."

"All right, then." Grissom stood up. "I'd better catch up to Brass." He started for the door. "I'll probably be back tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you for--"

Grissom cut Nick off with a quick shake of his head. Then, with one hand on the door knob, he paused again. "Nick, just in case it doesn't come up again...when you come back to work, it will likely be some time before you're assigned to any case alone. Just so you know, it won't be because you can't handle it."

"Oookaaay," Nick looked at Warrick, bemused.

"It'll be because we can't handle it," Warrick clarified.

Nick blinked and looked back at Grissom in astonishment. Grissom nodded his agreement with Warrick before walking out and closing the door quietly behind him.

After staring at the door a bit longer, Nick gave Warrick an utterly bewildered look. Then he let out a deep sigh and sank into the sofa, closing his eyes.

Warrick let the silence go one another few minutes before speaking. "That was huge, man. Even if I didn't follow most of it."

Another sigh, "I shouldn't have just thrown that at him the way I did."

"I think he'll survive," Warrick said dryly, getting a little smile out of Nick. "So is that why you had such a hard time around Grissom? You think you let him down in there somehow? That he regrets hiring you?"

"I know it sounds stupid, but--"

"Nah. It's just that I could have cleared that up for you right off." Warrick considered for a moment, "But I guess you needed to hear it from Grissom."

"It goes back to before what happened," Nick explained. "But Dr. Kane thought my recovery is tied up with a lot of the same stuff, so..." He closed his eyes wearily, "It goes all the way back to me coming to Vegas in the first place. I almost explained it to Gris, but...Jesus, that's just too much stuff to dump on him when he's got nothing to do with any of it."

Warrick waited quietly, knowing Nick would either explain further or change the subject.

"He took a big chance on me. I was such a green kid. One year in a lab and not a lot else to go on." Nick took a deep breath before continuing, "I was my first chance to find out what I could do. Not get patted on the head because I was the baby, or someone's son, or someone's brother. I love my family but...I don't trust their opinions--not of me. Even when I was little, I kinda knew that not everything I did could be a great as they told me it was. No one here gave a damn who my family was, and well, I knew that Grissom's opinion was one I could count on."

"True. He doesn't hand out approval lightly," Warrick smiled.

"It's my problem, but I was just never sure I had it."

"Shit, you really are a mess, aren't you?"

Nick didn't open his eyes, but his lips twitched. "Oh, you don't want to go there, buddy. I got stuff on you, too."

Warrick chuckled. Every now and then he would risk a smart ass remark like the ones they used to exchange all the time. Whenever Nick bit back--and it was happening more and more often--Warrick felt a little bit more weight lift from his heart.

Warrick found adapting to a swing shift of different people surprisingly easy. Sofia was grateful to have him for as long as he was available, because with two inexperienced newcomers in Marisol Fuentes and Erin Young and a contrary vet in Lee Travis, her position as swing shift supervisor was not an easy one. She happily handed Warrick any cases that overlapped with the graveyard shift, so Warrick still worked with Sara, Greg and Grissom often.

The fact that Nick continued to improve at a slow but steady pace also made Warrick's second return to work much less stressful. Nick seemed to be handling the time he spent alone without too much trouble, but then, when everything was added up, Nick rarely spent more than three or four of the 24 hours alone. With the extra staff Ecklie had hired, the number of doubles CSIs had to pull in order to solve cases had dropped accordingly. Most of the time, Warrick was able to keep his shift to the regular eight hours and only occasionally worked ten or twelve.

All of the lab techs would drop by Nick's for visits, usually in the late afternoon, but with the exception of Bobby and Hodges, they rarely stayed for more than an hour at a time. Greg, on the other hand, spent long hours at Nick's townhouse. Neither he nor Nick would cop to how many video game tournaments they'd had, though. Sara wanted to stay with Nick, but sometimes found it difficult to fill the hours. Then she got her hands on nutritional information Dr. Kane had given Nick that was meant to help his recovery and inspiration struck. Sara was a scientist and definitely not a cook, but she did enjoy experimenting--which was really the only way to describe her efforts to concoct some of the meals on the list. Nick found her attempts entertaining, if not edible.

Catherine would visit Nick nearly every day, usually at supper time or just after. Sometimes she coaxed Nick out to eat, but Nick wasn't comfortable around strangers yet. He couldn't predict what might trigger a flashback and the flashbacks still happened occasionally. Eleven-year-old Lindsey was allowed to visit as well, providing her homework had been finished. Catherine would tease Nick that he was great bribe material.

Brass fell into the habit of dropping by Nick's with a couple of DVDs in the evening, before his night shift or after a day shift. The DVDs were either cheesy cop movies he and Nick could ridicule or old westerns they could enjoy. Although he occasionally joined them for a western, Grissom would usually play chess with Nick when he visited. The entomologist was also tentatively beginning to fill Nick in on cases at work.

Nick spent a good portion of his time alone building his strength back up. He had gone to the gym previously, but that was off limits since he'd had a flashback on the bench press. Warrick had hustled him out immediately, but Nick's humiliation at having panicked in a gym full of people compounded the flashback to trigger the most severe jag he'd had for some time. Instead, Nick got his workout running short distances, walking long ones or working with his free weights.

With all the exercise, Nick was sleeping better, and the nightmares only got bad enough for Warrick to hear every couple of days, rather than several times a day. Not long after Warrick's return to work, Nick had backed out of the plan to wake Warrick if he couldn't go back to sleep. Nick claimed that Warrick needed all the rest he could get, especially considering that he'd been sleeping on a sofa instead of an actual bed. Warrick wasn't sure whether that was a hint for him to stop staying there, but decided he wasn't going anywhere unless Nick came right out and asked him to go. Besides, even though Nick never woke him, there were several days when Warrick would open his eyes to find Nick sleeping peacefully in the wing chair. Since it suited Nick and he got a solid night's sleep out of the deal, Warrick let it go.

Nearly two weeks after his return to work, Warrick drew a multiple homicide that soon linked with a multiple Sara was investigating. Warrick worked a double and was on his way to a triple before they got a break in the case and he was satisfied enough with their progress to get some sleep. He had called Nick when he'd started his double, and Nick--a bit exasperated--told him not to worry, that he would be sleeping most of the time, anyway.

When Warrick finally got back to Nick's the sun had been up for hours, and Nick was getting ready to go out. "Everything okay?"

Nick raised his eyebrows, "I'm not the one working a five-homicide case."

"Eight," Warrick corrected wearily.

Nick winced, "Some sort of spree killing?"

"That's what it's looking like. I've got to meet Sara again at three." Warrick took in Nick's sweats, "Out for a walk or a run?"

"Run."

"Okay, I'm gonna catch a quick nap while you're out," Warrick nodded toward the couch.

Nick frowned, "Man, you just put in--what? Nineteen hours? Take my bed and crash for a while."

"Naahh," Warrick grimaced, "I don't know about that."

"Go on, Rick," Nick urged him. "The babysitting's gotta taper off at some point, yeah? I was fine last night--only woke up with one dream, and it's not like I have a visit with Dr. Kane today or anything."

"Getting pretty sick of this, huh?" Warrick forced a smile.

"Not so much," Nick shrugged. "But I figure you must be."

"Well, I'm not," Warrick said shortly.

Nick looked troubled. "Rick, you've already..." he cleared his throat. "I don't like the idea of your job possibly suffering because of me. Especially since you've already done so much."

"Alright, alright," Warrick raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "If I go crash in your room, will you shut up about it?"

Nick smiled, "Even if I don't, at least you won't be able to hear it." He zipped up his jacket and headed for the door. "Just don't get drool all over my pillow," was his parting shot.

Warrick held his smile until the door closed behind Nick, then he let out a deep sigh. Shoulders slumped, he walked into Nick's room and stripped down to his shorts. He collapsed onto the bed and groaned when Nick's scent surrounded him. Before he had time to consider what sort of dreams this would cause him, he was sound asleep.

When he awoke again, it took Warrick a moment to figure out why he wasn't on the sofa. Nick's alarm clock showed it to be nearly one in the afternoon, which still gave him plenty of time to get ready. He stretched and rolled over, tempted to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Then he made the mistake of burying his face in the pillow and inhaling, which woke up Warrick Jr. in record time. Groaning again in frustration, he got out of bed and decided to grab a shower before he did anything else so he could take care of the situation.

But when he opened the bedroom door, he heard the unmistakable sound of Nick gasping for air amidst sobs, which could only mean one thing. That quickly took care of his libido, and Warrick yanked on his discarded jeans. "Fuck, Nicky," he muttered, grabbing his shirt. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?" He pulled his shirt on but didn't bother buttoning it before hurrying into the great room.

He halted when he saw Hodges sitting in the chair, going on about something in his bored, sarcastic drawl and Nick on the sofa leaning his head on one hand while he wiped his eyes with the other. One glance was all it took to see what had happened. Laughing could still trigger a jag for Nick, but it no longer upset him to have it happen. Normally, Warrick wouldn't be worried much about it, but today was different. "What the hell is going on?"

Nick looked up and began to answer, but all that came out was something between a chuckle and a sob. He was still having trouble catching his breath and soon gave up any attempt at speaking.

"I was just telling Nick the difference between Dupont and Sorbonne, and that until Sara attends the latter, he shouldn't let her anywhere near his kitchen again."

That got another sputter out of Nick.

Warrick glared at the chemist. "You're sitting here babbling while he's practically in the middle of a panic attack?"

Hodges glanced at Nick and then arched an eyebrow at Warrick. "Yeah, about that. I recall Gil mentioning that if Nick has one of these episodes, its best to just continue talking as though nothing out of the ordinary is going on. Just a little tip you might want to consider trying."

Nick's eyes widened, and he nearly choked. Any response from him was out of the question.

"I know," Warrick seethed. "I'm the one who told Gil that."

Sensing trouble, Nick made one last attempt to speak. "It's fine, Rick," he finally managed. "Hodges has been cracking me up with that attitude of his for more than an hour. It's just this last time that I lost it."

Hodges smiled at Warrick with his typical smugness. Normally, Warrick found Hodges an irritation at most, but today--

"I just wanted to plow him one."

"Why was that?" Dr. Kane asked as though Warrick weren't pacing his office like a caged tiger.

"Because--" Warrick halted momentarily, then continued walking. "Because there's Nick trying to breathe and Hodges is just sitting there looking bored and going on about Sara's cooking." He finally dropped into a chair across from Dr. Kane.

"And what should he have been doing?"

"Well, not that."

"What would you have done?"

Warrick gritted his teeth when he saw he was painting himself into a corner. He had actually been looking forward to his session with Dr. Kane for several days so he could get the incident with Hodges off his chest. Now, though, he was starting to realize that he may have left himself open to the sort of questions he most wanted to avoid.

"Warrick? What would you have done?"

He knew he had to find a way to get out of answering without looking like he wasn't cooperating. "I try not to trigger a jag."

"And you think Hodges did? On purpose?"

Warrick growled under his breath, then sighed. "No, of course not."

"But you don't believe he handled the situation properly."

Get yourself out of this–now. "I guess Hodges just gets on my nerves sometimes."

Kane nodded. "So if you had walked in and anyone else had been with Nick, you wouldn't have been as upset with them."

"I...don't know," Warrick admitted.

"As Nick's ‘jags' go, was this very severe?"

"No."

After a few moments, Kane asked. "How often have you not been there to help Nick through one of his episodes?"

"You mean since his folks left?" Warrick asked before he thought. Seconds later, he realized what Kane was probably getting at, "I've been back at work for two weeks, so..."

"And before that?"

Warrick shifted in his chair. "Yeah, I was usually there for him."

"So it's safe to say that until recently you were accustomed to being Nick's main support system."

"We all supported Nick."

"But you were with him the majority of the time."

Warrick could see the train wreck approaching, but he didn't know where the brakes were. "Well, yeah...I had the time off work."

"You made the time."

"Yeah, okay."

"But Nick's recovering now," Kane reminded him.

"He is," Warrick agreed.

"And you're...okay with that?"

Warrick's lip curled. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Lately, is Nick relying on you as much?"

"He's getting better. So that's good." To Warrick's horror, he didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"Warrick, when a caregiver's role is as intense as yours has been, it's not uncommon once the patient begins to heal, for the caregiver to--"

"Y'know what?" Warrick snarled, "Fuck you."

"Warrick..."

"You think I don't want to see Nick better? You need the goddamn shrink!"

"Warrick," Kane voice became suddenly stern. "That's not what I'm saying."

Warrick fought to rein in his temper, desperate not to give Kane any reason to take him off the job. "I want Nick to get better," he gritted.

"I know you do," Kane reassured him.

Fastening his gaze out the window, Warrick nodded for Kane to go on.

"It has nothing to do with you not wanting the best for Nick, Warrick. You obviously do."

Warrick sighed and closed his eyes. "Then what is this about?"

"That's what we're going to discuss."

Warrick drove back to Nick's troubled but calm. He'd managed to walk the tightrope between the truth and the real truth, although it hadn't been easy. He'd admitted to Kane that he felt that he hadn't done enough for Nick to alleviate the guilt he still felt, but had managed to avoid an issue that bothered him even more--the possibility that he was using Nick's problems as an excuse to stay nearby without revealing his true feelings.

He hated that idea, because it put him way beyond overprotective, past pathetic and possibly into sick. His only consolation was that other than being puzzled by his anger at Hodges--and it had not been jealousy--Nick didn't seem to notice anything unusual about his behavior.

As he pulled up, Warrick's attention immediately focused on Nick's empty driveway. Assuming that Nick had made one of his brief trips to the local grocery store, Warrick let himself into the townhouse. He glanced around to check if Nick had left a note, but didn't think much of it when he couldn't see one.

Ten minutes later, Warrick looked more carefully for a note.

Twenty minutes later, he called Catherine to check whether Nick had stopped by the lab.

Twenty-five minutes later, he called Greg to see if Nick had made plans of some sort.

Thirty minutes later, his stomach turned to ice when he realized that no one had ever verified for certain whether or not Walter Gordon had pulled off such a grand scheme alone.

Warrick usually knew how to handle himself in any given situation. There were times he'd been scared or frantic or exhausted, but he'd always managed to do something. Even if it was the wrong thing, he always did something.

Right now, though, he couldn't decide whether to go out and look for Nick himself, call more of their colleagues to check with them, call Brass to put out the word or wait awhile longer. Leaning on the kitchen counter, Warrick forced himself to calm down and think straight.

When his cell rang, Warrick nearly tore his pocket trying to get to it. "Warrick Brown," he barked.

"Hey, it's O'Riley."

Warrick rolled his eyes. The case he'd been working with O'Riley on was more than a week old. He couldn't think of anything he cared less about at the moment. "Yeah. Listen, I can't--"

"Do you think it's a good idea for him to be here by himself?"

His heart stuttered to a halt for a split second before hammering at double speed. "Let...let who?"

"Stokes. I'm not sure he should even be here."

"Where?" Warrick demanded. "Where are you?"

"Nevada Women's C.F."

Warrick frowned in confusion, then it hit him. "Kelly Gordon."

"Gordon?" O'Riley repeated. "Isn't that--oh, shit."

"Where is he?"

"He went in about ten minutes ago."

"Stall him, O'Riley, you hear me? Do not let him leave."

"Got it."

Warrick had no idea how he got from hanging up his phone to the 515. That space of time was a blur--a red blur. His next coherent thought was that he probably shouldn't be doing one twenty-five down the highway when he could barely see straight, but the thought wasn't enough to make him ease up on the gas.

His panic when he found Nick gone, his frustration after his visit with Kane and his hurt that Nick didn't seem to need him anymore met and melded into an icy-hot dagger that burned from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

He made the forty-minute drive in less than twenty and spotted O'Riley's Taurus amidst the staff vehicles. The burly detective climbed out when Warrick pulled up next to him.

"Hey," O'Riley walked over to Warrick's open window.

"Where is he?"

O'Riley blinked momentarily at Warrick's tone, but didn't bother asking questions. "There," he nodded to the visitors' parking lot.

Looking, Warrick spotted the black Tahoe in furthest corner, near the fence.

"I didn't talk to him or anything," O'Riley continued. "He looked like a wreck when he came out, and he went and parked over there."

"Thanks," Warrick said. "I'll get him home." He pulled back out and drove to visitors' lot before O'Riley could say anything else. He parked next to Nick and got out. Nick didn't even look over, and for a split second, Warrick wondered if he was asleep. As he walked around to the driver's side of Nick's vehicle, he saw that Nick was so focused on getting his breathing under control that he was oblivious to his surroundings.

So when Warrick yanked his door open, Nick let out a startled yelp that nearly ended in a sob. He stared blankly for several long moments, his eyes still shiny with unshed tears. "Warrick?"

"Out," Warrick snapped. "Get in my ride. We're going back."

Nick drew back slightly at Warrick's demeanor. "Warrick, I-I can--"

"Now," Warrick spat, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I mean it, Nick."

Hesitating only a few seconds more, Nick climbed down and carefully edged around Warrick to climb in the passenger side of Warrick's SUV. He let out a sigh when he was seated, and a few more small sobs got away from him.

Warrick slammed Nick's door shut then stalked back around to get behind the wheel of his Tahoe, slamming his door with equal force.

"I can explain this--" Nick ventured again.

"Don't talk to me when I'm driving." Warrick peeled out of the lot and back onto the highway.

A few miles down the road, Nick tried again. "This was something I had to--"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

The ride back took thirty minutes, and was completely silent except for Nick's hitched breathing. Warrick could feel Nick's eyes on him, wary and concerned, but he might as well have been alone in his vehicle for all the attention he gave Nick.

When they finally pulled up at Nick's townhouse, Nick quickly got out and went inside, pausing only briefly to glance back over his shoulder.

Warrick took several minutes to try--unsuccessfully--to calm down before storming after him. He caught up with Nick inside and grabbed him by the bicep. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Warrick!" Nick tried to pull away. "Look, it was something that I had to do."

"Without telling anyone," Warrick added.

"I thought you might try to talk me out of it." Nick tried to free his arm again.

Snarling under his breath, Warrick shook his head instead of answering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick's answering machine blinking, and that the LCD number was definitely higher than the "0" it had been before he'd left.

Unsure how to interpret Warrick's silence, Nick continued speaking, "And I...I really have to do some things alone sooner or later, Warrick. This...well, this visit was an important thing to do on my own."

"And a note? Too much effort?"

"Warrick, take it easy." Nick tried once more to tug his arm loose.

"Like hell!" Warrick seethed, pulling Nick toward him until they were practically nose to nose. "Do you have any idea what it was like? You've never gone anywhere for more than fifteen minutes, tops. Suddenly there's no sign of you for--you basically up and vanish. AGAIN."

Nick's mouth fell open as he tried to come up with a suitable response.

"Do you have any idea what I thought--" Warrick abruptly spun Nick around so he could see the answering machine. "I called Catherine and Greg trying to track you down. There were no messages on the machine then. Now how many are there?"

"Eleven," Nick said in a low, shaky voice.

Viciously, Warrick stabbed at the play button.

"Hi, Nicky, it's Catherine. Get back to me when you get this message."

"Hey, Nick, it's Greg. Give me a shout when you hear this."

"Hi, it's Sara. Call me back, okay?"

"This is Gil, Nick. Please get a hold of someone from the team when you can."

"Hey, Nick. This is Bobby. There's a few people looking for you, so let someone know where you are, all right?"

"Nick, it's Greg again. Even if you don't call me, make sure you get ahold of Warrick, okay?"

"It's Jim, Nicky. Let someone know what's going on before I put out an APB, okay?"

"This is David Hodges. For god's sake, call someone so everyone will shut up, would you?"

"Nicky, it's Catherine again. Sorry for bombarding you, but it's really important that you let someone know where you are. I don't want to call Warrick again to check because he's already upset enough, but--"

Slamming down on the stop button, Warrick cut off the rest of the messages.

Nick's eyes were huge as he stared at Warrick. "I--Rick, I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice low in an obvious attempt to hide its trembling.

Warrick was staring at the answering machine as if it had betrayed him. His anger had suddenly deserted him, leaving him with a huge void and no emotion to fill it. He released Nick and stepped back, then wiped both hands down his face.

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered. "You have no idea. I wasn't thinking at all. I know that's no excuse, but you have to believe that the last thing I want to do--"

Warrick cut him off with a forceful slashing motion. "You know what? I've got to get to work. You want to do stuff on your own? You can start by returning all those calls." Without giving Nick the chance to reply, he stalked out of the townhouse, slamming the door behind him.

He wasn't due at work for another hour, so Warrick went back to his apartment. After checking his fridge on the off chance that he had a beer left, he stretched out on his sofa and willed away the last ninety minutes. Eyes closed, he tried to come up with a logical reason for his reaction. He threw an arm over his face and sighed when he reached the conclusion that there simply wasn't one. In one morning, he'd gone from being a helpful friend to a paranoid warden.

He's a grown man, you moron. He's got the right to go wherever he wants whenever he wants. He doesn't need to check in with you or anyone. It's not like the two of you are–

Warrick kicked the sofa arm in frustration. He knew that helping Nick through his recovery would be difficult, but he never dreamed it would tie him in this many knots. Dr. Kane had obviously seen this on his first visit. With a sinking feeling, Warrick wondered what else Kane might have noted. He didn't want Nick finding out about the feelings he'd been harboring–-that is, he did want Nick to find out, but not this way and definitely not now.

"Dammit," Warrick growled. He hated the feeling of being unable to trust his own judgement. Even more, he hated the realization that in order to start thinking clearly he was going to have to put some distance between Nick and himself.

A quick glance at the clock told him he'd better hustle himself to make it to work on time. As he got ready, he very deliberately pushed everything not related to work to the back of his mind and sealed it there. He might be screwing up everything important in his life right now, but he was damned if he was going to add his job to that list.

Warrick knew the minute he arrived at the lab that Nick had returned at least some of those messages, because no on asked any questions about it. Catherine greeted him in her usual breezy tone, but with a sympathetic look that made him wonder what Nick had told her. Relentlessly, Warrick squashed those thoughts back under the seal and walked into Sofia's office to check in.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame.

"Hey," Sofia returned. "How's that multiple homicide you're working with Sara?" If she had any knowledge or curiosity about the day's event, it didn't show in her cool, husky voice.

"Detective Conroy is supposed to call me once she's hunted down some of our leads."

"I'd like you to take a look at this then. Three 419's out on Sahara," she handed him an assignment slip. "Take Fuentes with you, and if it's not related to your multiple, hand it off to her when Conroy reaches you."

"Will do." While it would be wrong to say Warrick was grateful for another multiple homicide, he didn't mind a scene that was going to require every bit of his concentration.

Marisol Fuentes was new to Vegas CSI, but talented and sassy and reminded Warrick a bit of Catherine. It was obvious from the start that this scene had nothing to do with his case--it looked to be of a lover's triangle that ended in suicide--but Warrick stayed to help process the scene until he got a page not from Conroy, but Mia in DNA. Marisol waved him off without looking up from the footprint she was lifting.

Back at the lab Mia apologized and explained why it took so long for results. "I wanted to run the test a few more times, just to be sure."

Warrick frowned at he took the printouts she handed him, read them, then reread them before looking up at the lab tech in disbelief.

She smiled and nodded her understanding. "Weird, huh?"

"No shit." Three different killers--all related by blood. Three different families among the victims with members at each crime scene. Every victim had a different last name, and up until now, had appeared to have nothing in common. He glanced at the clock, glad that Sara would be arriving for her shift soon--this was just the sort of puzzle she would love sorting out. "Thanks, Mia," he said, leaving to track down Detective Conroy and relay this bizarre revelation.

He was right about Sara. She was baffled but enthused by this turn of events, and after a couple of hours on the computer, she managed to put together the bizarre case of baby buying, sperm donors, and adoptions from hell. Warrick realized Sara must have also found time to talk to someone about what happened with Nick, because when he decided to clock out at midnight, his usual end-of-shift, and leave her to finish the case with Conroy, she didn't bat an eyelash about it. She didn't even seem remotely peeved or puzzled, but bid him good night and promised to leave him news of the case for tomorrow.

So Warrick went home, but hadn't been at his apartment more than twenty minutes before the urge to check up on Nick prevented him from thinking of anything else. He knew that when he did speak to Nick again the first thing he would have to do is apologize, and he had no problem with that, but he dreaded the idea of trying to explain his actions.

He hasn't had nightmares for a few days now. He'll be fine.

Of course, today would have been upsetting for Nick--to say the least. Warrick closed his eyes when he realized what Nick had probably gone through before being subjected to his anger.

You both need time to cool down more. Let it go until tomorrow.

He had needed the time to cool down. Nick seemed more hurt by what happened than anything else. The idea that he was responsible for that made Warrick cringe with self-loathing.

You don't have to go over there. There is such a thing as a phone.

Warrick even went so far as to take out his cell, but then sighed and snapped it shut again. He could be as logical and clear-thinking as he wanted, but the overriding fact remained that he wanted to see for himself that Nick was okay with everything. Or, if he was being completely honest, he just wanted to see Nick.

He'd never been good with temptation. It had taken years for him to learn how to resist the lure of easy money on a green felt table. As he started his jeep, he reflected that when it came to temptation, Lady Luck had nothing on Nick Stokes.

There were still several lights on when Warrick pulled up to Nick's townhouse. He was relieved, but not surprised; Nick had slowly been slipping into the late night pattern that graveyard workers lived by. Warrick briefly considered and discarded the idea of using the key he'd had since Nick left Avalon Springs and knocked instead.

After a few beats of silence, there was a wary--"Who is it?"

"It's me." Then as an afterthought--"Warrick."

The door opened almost immediately. "Hi," Nick offered him a tentative smile.

"Mind if I come in?"

"‘Course not," Nick stepped back to let him in.

Warrick walked inside and turned around. Nick closed the door and rested his forehead against it briefly before squaring his shoulders and facing Warrick. Studying him, Warrick was glad to see that Nick wasn't shaking. However, he was pale, and his eyes were fairly red, which only served to emphasize the shadows under them. Warrick took a deep breath, "Look, Nick, I was way out of line today."

"Not completely," Nick said, using his trick of keeping his voice low to hide any trembling.

Fingers hooked in his pockets, Warrick propped one shoulder against the wall, hoping that if he acted relaxed, some of his nerves would stop jittering. "I've been--uh...oh, hell," he sighed as he abruptly lost whatever he was going to say. Rather, he had so many things to say, he didn't know which to say first.

"I should have told someone where I was going." Nick bit his lower lip for a moment, "I know I can get pretty...self-absorbed and--"

A startled laugh escaped from Warrick. "You're...what? You've got to be kidding me!"

Nick's expression grew more troubled, "I know that's no excuse, but--"

"Yeah, because it isn't true," Warrick said with an amazed chuckle. "And hell, even if it was, you're supposed to be concentrating on yourself right now."

"But not if it--look, I was concentrating so much on just getting there without backing out that I didn't think about anything else."

"Why didn't you mention it to anyone?"

"I didn't want anyone to try talking me out of it," Nick's voice wavered briefly before he caught himself. "I hadn't even told Dr. Kane about my plan to see Kelly, although we'd talked about her. I'm still not sure why it was important for me to see her, but I just felt like it was."

"Then it was," Warrick said simply. Then on pure instinct, he asked, "How did that go?"

"I...don't think it did," Nick said quietly. He walked to his sofa and sank down.

"Why? What happened?" Warrick frowned. Christ, if this was a disaster and I only added to it...

Nick leaned back and closed his eyes. "Nothing. She obviously didn't want to see me. Hung up on me once and--" Another quiver in his voice betrayed him. "She barely said anything..."

Watching Nick carefully, Warrick suddenly realized the truth of the situation. Self-absorbed, my ass. "Nicky...my god, Nick. Tell me you didn't go to see if you could help her."

"No," Nick replied, but embarrassment colored his voice. "I mean, not really. It started because Phillip--Dr. Kane--and I were talking about why. Why did this happen and...everything. Then that turned into why Gordon did everything the way he did and that turned into him doing it all for his daughter's sake." A few tears slid from beneath Nick's eyelids. "Losing your father would be bad enough, but unless she's completely heartless it must be--" he broke off when Warrick let out another soft laugh.

Chuckling quietly, Warrick wandered into the kitchen area and stood looking up as if the ceiling held all the answers.

Really, what choice did he have here? How could he not be in love with someone like Nick Stokes?

Warrick released a pent-up breath and much of his tension went with it. Shaking his head, he turned back toward the sofa. "You're really something else, Nicky, y'know that?"

"I didn't know whatever I am was funny," Nick sounded hurt.

"It's not," Warrick sat in his usual spot on the sofa. "I was just laughing because...hell, because I don't know what else to do."

"Oh." Nick accepted that and a corner of his mouth even quirked up. "Yeah, I know that feeling."

"It's just that most people wouldn't give a damn about this girl. Christ, Nicky, she's the reason you went through--"

"But that doesn't make her responsible," Nick protested. "And it's not like I went there for her. I went for me. Maybe just to see who someone would--would do all that for." He glanced at Warrick, "I thought if--I thought if I saw her I would feel...I don't know."

"I get it, Nicky," Warrick assured him. "Mostly. But most people would find it easier to just blame the Gordons for everything and leave it at that."

"Easier doesn't mean right," Nick frowned. "And I don't say that just to be--oh." He shot Warrick a stricken look. "I was thinking about Kelly Gordon and I never even considered what it would be like for you guys. That's really...backwards and--"

"No, Nick," Warrick cut him off. "We did everything we could to make sure you didn't think about anything except getting better." He shrugged slightly, "Of course, now that you are getting better, you might have to cut the rest of us a little slack."

"Yeah. I'm gonna try not to be so--"

"Self-absorbed?" Warrick supplied, disbelief evident in his voice.

"I try not to be."

"Where did you get the idea that you were?"

"Oh..." Nick's expression grew distant. "Someone pointed it out to me a few years ago."

Warrick snorted, "It had to be someone who didn't know much about you."

A sad, haunted smile flickered briefly on Nick's lips. "You'd be surprised."

Warrick didn't like that expression and decided it was time to change the subject. "Are you going to go visit her again?" he asked, hoping for a negative answer.

"I doubt it," Nick sighed. "She definitely doesn't want to see me and it didn't help the way I thought it would."

"That would probably be my fault," Warrick said heavily.

"No, separate from that," Nick rubbed his eyes. "I knew when I walked out of there that it hadn't been worth it."

"But I certainly didn't help. Like I said, when I couldn't find you I just--lost it. I'm sorry, man." Warrick could feel himself on the border of dangerous territory. "I don't know what else to tell you."

"Don't," Nick's voice caught. "Hell, after everything you've done for me...I just--I'm trying not to rely on everyone so much."

Warrick nodded his understanding because he didn't trust his voice at that moment.

"So when I returned everyone's calls I told them visits were okay but I didn't need any more babysitting." Nick chewed his lip thoughtfully, "I hope I explained it properly to everyone. Anyway, no more babysitting visitors."

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Warrick couldn't help asking. "I mean, to go from having someone with you almost all the time to being all alone?"

Nick gave him a blank look.

"Isn't that what you meant? No more visitors?"

"Oh. Well, I didn't--oh." Nick shifted uncomfortably, "Okay..."

"What?"

"I didn't...er, I wasn't...thinking of you as a visitor."

"Oh." Warrick was suddenly very glad for his years of poker playing--he was able to keep his expression neutral rather than grinning like an idiot. "After what happened, I wasn't sure you'd want me to stick around."

Nick hurriedly said, "If you're sick of staying here, I can get by on my own. I know this has been a pain for you."

They both stopped talking over the other and exchanged half-smiled.

"I got no problem staying for a while longer."

"Okay. Okay, thanks," Nick ducked his head. "There's still sometimes when I've been dreaming that I like knowing there's someone else nearby."

Several images sprang unbidden to Warrick's mind at Nick's words. Hell, Nicky, are you trying to kill me? "Like I said, it's not a problem."

"Thanks."

"So...we okay now?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Sure we are."

Something didn't quite ring true to Warrick's ear, but he had no idea which part of the conversation to call Nick on. "Pretty rough day for you," he finally ventured.

"Not just for me," Nick quirked another tiny smile at him.

Warrick didn't mind these little smiles. They were unpredictable and usually wistful, but they were genuine. He didn't return it though, as something else occurred to him. "Did you eat today? Even though there wasn't anyone around to make you?"

Nick's smile widened and he actually rolled his eyes. "Noble Roman's delivers until three. Number nine on my speed dial."

* * *

Warrick knew as soon as he opened his eyes that he hadn't been asleep for long. A glance at his watch confirmed that it had been less than two hours. For a moment he couldn't figure out what had wakened him, then a desperate cry came from Nick's room. Warrick threw his blankets back and ran for the room--it had been weeks since Nick had a nightmare bad enough to wake him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Warrick caught Nick by the shoulders. "Hey," he tried to avoid Nick's thrashing limbs. "Nick, it's okay."

Nick was incoherent and Warrick couldn't make out any words other than "please."

"Come on, Nicky, you're safe," Warrick shook him a bit harder. "Nick!"

Nick broke free of the dream with a strangled grasp. His hands tightened convulsively on Warrick's forearms.

"Breathe, Nick."

"I c-can't..." Nick panted. "There's gl-glass...the glass is...c-cl-closing in..."

"No, Nick. You can breathe, buddy, you can breathe." Warrick felt a spike of fear. Nick hadn't been this bad since the hospital. "You got plenty of room, Nicky. There's plenty of air."

Nick struggled against Warrick's hands. "Up...up–please..."

Immediately, Warrick pulled him into a sitting position. "Okay, Nicky. You've got lots of room, see?"

Once he was upright, Nick's breathing became easier, but then a shudder ran through him and the tremors began. "No, no..." he choked helplessly. "No, this isn't sup-supposed...to h-happen--not anym-more..."

"Easy, Nicky."

"I...this isn't...I don't want to k-keep...doing this, Warrick..."

"I know," Warrick murmured, pulling the trembling man into his arms.

Nick clutched at him. "God, no...I d-don't want to start ov-over--I can't..."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Warrick moved his hand along Nick's spine in long, soothing strokes. "You had a really rough day. That's what this is."

"I don't w-want...I c-can't..."

"You remember how this works, Nicky," Warrick kept his voice tranquil despite the guilt turning his insides to acid. "Stop trying to fight it and it will be easier, okay? Just ride it out, Nick."

"Ok-k-kay..." Nick sobbed trying to follow Warrick's instructions. "O--kay."

When Nick's breathing finally settled to just the occasional catch Warrick asked, "What was it about, Nick? Do you remember?"

"It was..." Nick rested his head on Warrick's arm. "Th-the prison..."

Warrick felt dread overtake him. This was exactly what he'd feared.

"I was t-talking to Kelly."

Dammit, stop talking about her like she's someone you know! That's not going to help you get better.

"And she...wouldn't--she wouldn't talk," Nick's voice steadied, but only for a moment. "She got up and I asked her to come b-back. But then...th-the...oh, god..."

"Breathe, Nicky," Warrick soothed. "Don't rush it. You don't even have to finish if you don't want to."

But Nick swallowed several times and continued. "The dividers...all of a sudden the gl-glass dividers were...they were all around and...closing in..." Another choke escaped him. "And then sh-she was gone and...you were there..."

Warrick squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hold.

"So I--I called you and y-you looked at me but th-then...you saw me, b-but you..."

"I left," Warrick whispered. I left. Oh sweet Jesus, that exactly what I did to him today. For a moment, Warrick thought he would have to fight to breathe as well. "Oh god, Nicky," his voice was little more than a rasp. "Christ, Nicky...I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

"Then you came and woke me up," Nick finished as though relaying a happy ending.

Warrick couldn't speak. Every bit of his concentration was devoted to not breaking down as well. Nick seemed content to lean against him in silence, and as his breath returned to normal, so did Warrick's. Finally, Warrick made himself release Nick so the exhausted man could lie down. He was grateful for the dim light that hid signs of his own misery.

Nick's eyes soon slid closed, but he held onto Warrick's wrist. Feeling completely worn out himself, Warrick released Nick's hold long enough to walk around to the other side of the bed.

Nick's eyes opened when he felt Warrick leave, but he relaxed again when Warrick spoke.

"I'm just going to lean back and catch a few z's myself," Warrick said as he settled himself against the headboard. He hadn't stayed with Nick in his room except for the first week out of Avalon Springs, but after a nightmare this bad, he wasn't taking any chances. It was a sign of how upset Nick was that he didn't object to Warrick "babysitting."

Propping a pillow behind his head, Warrick dropped a reassuring hand on Nick's shoulder. He listened closely to Nick's breathing and only when it had grown deep and even did he allow sleep to overtake him as well.

Warrick stretched as he emerged from the deepest part of sleep and then smiled when a warm body snuggled closer to his side. When he surfaced enough to register that the other person was also male, he was vaguely surprised, but not disturbed. When he was a bit more awake, he realized it was Nick pressed against him, at which point Warrick Jr. took a definite interest in the situation.

Although Warrick knew he ought to get up and return to the living room, Nick was sleeping soundly after a restless night and Warrick didn't want to risk waking him by moving.

That's what he told himself, anyway.

He was drifting back into sleep when a drowsy "hey" brought him to his feet next to the bed in an instant.

Okay, he didn't really notice anything, Warrick told himself frantically. He's half-asleep. He couldn't notice much.

Nick was sitting up and looking at him with a puzzled smile. "Rick?"

Warrick forced a smile of his own, "Didn't know where I was for a minute there." Nick nodded but didn't look entirely convinced, so Warrick got himself out of there. "I'm just gonna grab a quick shower," he said and left the room.

The shower wasn't exactly a quick one, after all. Warrick decided to take extra care of Junior that morning so that nothing unexpected popped up for the rest of the day. When he was done, he walked into the kitchen to find that Nick had made a pot of coffee even though he still didn't drink it himself.

Nick was sitting at the table reading the paper. He glanced at the clock when Warrick emerged, then got up. "What's your definition of quick, man?" he teased before going into the bathroom.

Warrick thought it was patently unfair that such an innocent jibe could create so many not-so-innocent images in his mind's eye. Sighing, he poured himself a cup of coffee and tried to distract himself with the sports section.

Nick went from the bathroom to the bedroom before returning to the kitchen dressed in a button-down shirt and chinos. He poured himself one of his giant glasses of orange juice and joined Warrick at the table. "I've got my session with Dr. Kane today."

"Oh shit," Warrick winced.

"What?"

What?! Hell, after you tell him what I pulled yesterday, he won't just tell you not to depend on me as much, he'll tell you to cut off contact with me. "That should be a really intense session."

"No kidding. I hadn't told him about my brilliant plan," Nick spun his glass a little. "But that's not what I wanted to say. I was planning this week to start driving myself to Dr. Kane's, but I'm not sure that's a good idea today."

"Of course I'll drive you. I always do."

"Yeah, you do," Nick shot him a quick smile. "So you want to grab some breakfast before we go or have lunch after?"

"Better grab something now. Might not have an appetite after it's done." Warrick wasn't sure whether he meant Nick or himself.

* * *

They were able to put Nick's "more time alone" plan to a real test over the next several days.

One side effect of the new inter-shift cooperation was that more commonalities were being found on cold cases that days or graveyard had never compared notes on. Rookie Kyle Rosewood switched off day shift long enough to join Grissom and Greg in wrapping up a string of bank robberies that had their beginnings in the previous year. Sara teamed with Sofia and Hal Westbrook to track down the source of escalating home invasions, and on and on.

So when Sofia handed him the file from a cold case and sent him to a briefing with graveyard, Warrick didn't think anything of it. He certainly didn't expect to find himself in the middle of a case involving a serial who had killed annually for the last five years, or to be facing a deadline to prevent a sixth murder. It took a triple and two doubles, but they finally managed to get enough for an arrest during one of Warrick's regular swing shifts.

During those four days, Warrick was only at Nick's to sleep and occasionally eat. Nick seemed to adjust well to being alone much of the time. Although he still had visits from his colleagues, they were much shorter now. Nick's only real problem now seemed to be finding ways to fill his time and more than once, Warrick would wake up to find Nick going over case files he'd brought from work. Nick said that he thought this current case was the work of a female killer.

Seeing that Nick no longer needed full-time company, after they'd caught the serial, Warrick mentioned being able to return to graveyard. Sofia told him to use his day off to catch up on his sleep and come in for his old graveyard shift after that.

With that news and the prospect of a day off, Warrick returned to Nick's in a good mood. He found Nick in the kitchen with the makings of a massive hoagie spread out on the counter, and immediately joined him. "Enough fixings for me?"

"Should be," Nick grinned, handing Warrick a knife. "I heard you finished your case. Got an arrest."

"Yeah, and it was a woman, so you called that one. Where did you hear we'd closed it?"

"When David called me tonight," Nick opened up four different kinds of sliced meat he'd picked up from the deli. "I guess that other than your case, things were pretty dull in the lab."

"David? Phillips?" Warrick laughed as he spread mustard on the bottom half of his sandwich. "He called you?"

"Not Super Dave. David. Hodges?"

Some of Warrick's good mood evaporated.

"So you go back to graveyard next week, yeah?"

Warrick began shredding the lettuce with unnecessary force. "Hodges is just all in my business, isn't he?" Because that's what was pissing him off. Not the fact that Hodges phoning Nick to chat was apparently nothing out of the ordinary.

Nick laughed. "Don't feel bad, Rick." He slung a friendly arm around Warrick's shoulders. "It sounds like Hodges knows--" he broke off when Warrick stiffened and then stepped away. "Warrick..."

"What?"

A sigh. "We're gonna have to clear a few things up here, man."

Warrick assumed the most bland expression he could muster to hide his rising panic.

"Y'know," Nick frowned. "Even though I can't tell what's behind your poker face, I know when it is your poker face."

Dropping his knife and wiping crumbs off his hands, Warrick turned and leaned against the counter. "Okay, so what's up?"

Nick shoved his own sandwich further back on the counter. "First off, I don't want to sound like an ungrateful jerk, Warrick. I know better than anyone everything you've done, and believe me, I appreciate all of it."

"But..." Warrick prompted.

"But," Nick took a deep breath. "Something has been weird ever since I left the hospital. Not when I'm freaking or anything--you've always got my back then, but when things are--should be--normal, it's off."

"Yeah?" Warrick kept his voice light. "Sorry, not following."

"Warrick," Nick's frown deepened. "Okay, if...if you're uncomfortable around me, you don't have to stick around anymore. I've been doing a lot better. Hell, you've already gone above and beyond, man."

Warrick felt his stomach sinking. "Uncomfortable? What're you--trippin'?"

"Come on, Warrick," Nick was getting exasperated. "Just now when I put an arm around you. And you just about killed yourself jumping out of bed a few days ago because you'd fallen asleep next to me. Just...I can tell it's a weird thing for you and that's no big deal. It's a weird thing for me sometimes, too. But I don't want it to mess up our friendship if we can help it, so..."

"Wait. Now you've really lost me," Warrick said honestly.

"When I asked you to take that stuff out of my old place so my parents wouldn't see it," Nick said with another sigh.

Warrick did his best to stifle a smile.

"I was still pretty messed up, but I remember you being kinda strange the next day--which, hey, that's perfectly understandable, but--dammit, Warrick! What are you laughing at?"

Because Warrick was laughing. There may have been a little hysteria edging it, but it felt good nonetheless. "You think I got a problem with what I found in your dresser drawer?"

"I'm not saying you're judging or anything, but I can see it being weird for you." A flush hit Nick across his cheeks. "Look, I've just been...I just started admitting it to myself over the past few years, even though I've never actually...but I mean, I'm not gonna--even if I find someone attractive, if I know he's not interested, I'm not going to--to try anything."

Did he just say he was attracted to me? "So you're--what? Gay? Bi?"

"Gay. I think. I'm pretty sure. Mostly." Nick squirmed slightly. "It's just that...I never considered not going out with women even though I didn't really...I mean, there were a few guys in college, but never anything more than--I mean, some making out before I chickened out..."

Warrick watched in astonished amusement as Nick somehow managed to embarrass himself into silence. "So I'm guessing that you never picked up anything about me."

"About..?" Nick pointed at Warrick. Warrick nodded. "You're..?"

"Gay? No. Bi."

Nick stared at Warrick as he digested this. "Have you..? I mean with..?"

"Not so much since college. Been sticking with the ladies." Then with a wolfish smile, he added, "Had the occasional night out with the guys, though."

"Guys?" Nick's eyes were huge.

"Figure of speech."

"Oh." Nick's brow creased. "Then...so you weren't freaked when you found..."

"Surprised, not freaked."

"But..." Nick chewed his lip. "I didn't imagine it, Warrick. You've been acting differently around me--especially lately."

"Well, yeah." Warrick gathered his courage. "It wasn't because anything about you bothered me. I was just trying not to--" He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against Nick's. "--do that."

Impossibly, Nick's eyes got even bigger. "You've been wanting to...how long?"

"I've been waiting to since that little errand of yours. I've probably been wanting to for a few years."

"Whoa." Nick's lips parted in amazement and Warrick thought briefly that no man should look so desirable while obviously poleaxed. The dark eyes darted around the kitchen before returning to Warrick's. "Again, yeah?"

Warrick smiled at the hopeful note in his voice and leaned in for a longer kiss. He cupped Nick's cheek gently and Nick sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Warrick's neck.

Although a bit surprised at how completely Nick gave himself up to the kiss, Warrick was more than happy to go along. He moved his hand from Nick's cheek to cradle the back of his head and pulled Nick more fully against him with the other.

The kiss deepened and softened by turns and Warrick's hands slid easily along Nick's back and sides, inviting Nick to explore as well. He was concentrating on the tender skin of Nick's throat and barely registered that his hands were cupping Nick's ass until he felt Nick startle against him, and then settle again.

"Umm...Warrick?" Nick's voice was breathless in his ear.

"Hmmm?" Warrick had found a particularly tasty spot near Nick's pulse point.

"Maybe we should--ohhh, that's...um...put the--put the food away."

He'd been half-expecting to hear "move to the bedroom," and this oddity got Warrick's full attention. "What?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at Nick.

Nick's face was flushed. "We aren't going to eat right now, are we?"

"You want to stop so you can clean up?"

"This stuff needs to go back in the fridge."

Warrick was on the verge of being very insulted until he saw the trepidation in Nick's eyes. He realized that even under the best of circumstances--without the trauma he was recovering from--Nick would probably be nervous in this situation. "Okay," he let his lips ghost softly over Nick's forehead and moved away slightly, giving Nick whatever space he needed.

With a shy smile, Nick moved around him to start putting the food away.

He had no problem with taking things slow, but Warrick discovered that being so close to Nick without touching was too much to ask at this point. He distracted Nick from his task more than once with a caressing hand or soft lips, but the delays were well worth it, as Nick went readily into his arms again once he was finished.

After several more kisses that moved from heated to lazy and back again, Warrick murmured, "You want to move this somewhere else, Nicky? The couch? Or the bedroom?"

Nick's breath hitched, "Umm...I don't--I'm not sure..."

"Hey," Warrick stroked Nick's cheek gently. "Do you know what ‘slow down' means, Nicky?"

"Of course I do," Nick looked bemused.

"So do I," Warrick assured him. "So we have nothing to worry about."

The dark eyes grew velvety soft before drifting shut as Nick pressed forward for more kisses. "The bedroom," he whispered while Warrick's lips traced his jaw. "Yeah. Bedroom."

Their steps to the bedroom were halting at best, mixed in with soft touches and more kisses. Nick halted just inside the room and Warrick wrapped both arms around him from behind. "You okay, Nicky?" he murmured, nuzzling an ear.

"Mmhmm..." Nick leaned back against the taller man.

Warrick tugged Nick's shirt from his waistband and ran his fingers over the warm skin. Nick drew in a long breath and lifted his arms when Warrick tugged his shirt up and off. Turning Nick to face him again, Warrick traced the sculpted chest that hadn't suffered even though Nick still hadn't been back to the gym.

Nick shivered and toyed with the hem of Warrick's shirt then looked up at him questioningly.

Warrick grinned and helped Nick strip his shirt off, then held his breath as Nick carefully explored his skin, first with his fingers and then with his lips. He tried to keep still under Nick's touch, but it wasn't easy. Eventually, he gave in and drew Nick's head up for more kisses. Slowly, he led Nick toward the bed and sat down. "C'mere, babe," he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Nick's jeans and tugged Nick closer until he was standing right beside the bed.

"Umm..." Nick shifted uncertainly.

"S'matter, Nicky? You never got around to anything like this in college?"

"No...uh...we just...we just..." Nick watched in fascination as Warrick's nimble fingers made quick work of his belt.

"So you college boys just stuck to kissing, huh?" Warrick took his time, sliding Nick's belt free slowly. "They pretty good at it?"

"I used to think so," Nick replied absent-mindedly, his entire attention focused on Warrick's hands.

"Nice, Nicky. Good line," Warrick grinned up at him as he unbuttoned and unzipped the faded jeans.

Nick swallowed hard, but remained still when Warrick pushed his jeans down to the top of his thighs. Warrick mouthed Nick's straining cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs and Nick's eyes slid shut. "Oh...god..."

"You can call me that if you want," Warrick smirked and pulled the briefs down as well. Nick's cock sprang free and Warrick eagerly licked the length, reveling in the musk and other tastes that were purely Nick. Feeling rather smug about Nick's heartfelt groan, Warrick went to work, keeping one hand around the base while the other gripped a firm cheek to hold Nick in place. He alternately sucked on the tip or swallowed nearly the entire length, just to see what range of sounds he could elicit from his new lover.

There was quite a multitude of them, and even more gratifying was the way Nick's knees buckled slightly before he caught himself. "Jesus, Warrick...I can't--" he twined his fingers in Warrick's hair and thrust forward.

Warrick put both hands on Nick's hips and held him still. While he had no problem with sucking Nick off and even looked forward to it, that wasn't what he wanted to happen right now. He released Nick from his mouth and after one last kiss, he pulled back. Nick was bewildered until Warrick began pulling his jeans all the way down, and then helped by stepping--a bit unsteadily--out of them.

Although he allowed Warrick to draw him down on the bed, Nick was obviously somewhat uncomfortable. He started to move to cover himself, then halted, which Warrick found both amusing and endearing considering what had just transpired between them. Hoping Nick would feel more at ease if he weren't the only one naked, Warrick stood up and quickly stripped off his jeans and shorts as well. He heard Nick's sharp intake of breath and froze, realizing their positions had just reversed and Nick might feel pressured to return the favor. "Hey, Nicky, don't worry about it," Warrick murmured.

Nick leaned forward slightly, so that Warrick could feel the rapid puffs of breath against his cock. Moistening his lips with his tongue, Nick glanced up at Warrick through his lashes. Whatever else he'd been planning to do had to be abandoned as Warrick fell on him with a low growl.

Warrick had meant to let Nick try whatever he wanted, but that innocent look and Nick's habit of wetting his lips had both figured into his fantasies too long for him to hold onto his control now.

"But you--I didn't..."

"Next time," Warrick bit down on Nick's ear, turning any further protests into moans of pleasure.

They both shifted further onto the bed, Nick's hands running eagerly over the muscles of Warrick's back as they bunched and loosened. Warrick managed to slide a hand between their sweaty bodies to line up both cocks in his grip and it was all over after that. The pushing and panting, the gasps and thrusts, brought them both to completion at nearly the same time.

It took a several long moments for Warrick to realize it, but even after they had finished, Nick was still gasping frantically. Immediately, he rolled off the smaller man, "Nicky?"

"No, oh no," Nick had his eyes squeezed shut. "Not now, not now..."

"Nicky, breathe."

"Warrick...I d-didn't mean t-to...th-this shouldn't be h-happening..."

"It's okay, baby," Warrick soothed, then glanced around for something to clean up with. Not wanting to leave Nick to go get a towel, Warrick decided his shorts would do. By now Nick had started to shake as well, so Warrick kept his movements slow and gentle as he cleaned Nick off, then did a quicker job on himself.

"Dammit..." Nick tried unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady. "Th-there's no r-reason..."

"Ssshhh..." Warrick soothed. "Don't try to stop, baby. Just go with it." Despite Nick's trembling, Warrick managed to move them both lengthwise onto the bed and off enough blankets to cover up with. Then he got the chance to do what he'd always longed to, gathering Nick close and pressing his lips to Nick's temple while crooning words of comfort.

Nick's trembling subsided and his breathing evened out before the attack got very serious. "Oh god, Rick..." Nick burrowed closer to Warrick, hiding his face. "I feel so stupid. That--that shouldn't have happened..."

"Don't worry, Nicky," Warrick murmured, stroking Nick's shoulders and back.

"It was...I don't..." Nick's voice no longer shook, but he was obviously having trouble finding his words. "I didn't expect...Rick, that was so much more than I've felt since...since..."

Unexpectedly, Warrick felt a lump in his own throat, but it didn't show in his voice. "It's okay, babe. I just want to be sure nothing happened that you didn't want."

"Oh. No," Nick huffed a slight laugh against Warrick's neck. "I wanted it, Warrick. I wanted you. And I--"

Warrick chuckled when he felt Nick yawn. "Go to sleep, baby. Everything's good."

Nick obviously thought this was an excellent idea, because he nestled more comfortably against Warrick with a deep sigh. "Not going to scramble to get out of bed in the morning this time, are you, Rick?"

"Not on a bet, baby."

Warrick had neither the inclination nor the ability to jump out of bed the next time he awoke. For one thing, Nick was draped over him, his head resting on Warrick's chest and for another, Warrick couldn't recall the last time he'd felt so content. He ran his fingers through the short, silky hair and smiled when Nick let out a sigh of pleasure. Encouraged, he applied more pressure and continued his ministrations until Nick was practically purring. His motions gradually slowed as he dozed off and on, and he drifted until the sensation of curious fingers brought him around again.

Nick looked at him from where he was hovering over Warrick's stomach and smiled before pushing the blankets down. It was obvious what Nick had in mind as he shifted himself to face the opposite way in the bed and Warrick had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Nick seemed confident as he took the hardening cock in one hand and stroked it a few times, but after that hesitated, licking his lips tentatively.

"Hey, Nicky," Warrick was surprised to find himself so breathless already.

His hand tightened slightly as Nick flicked a questioningly glance towards Warrick's face.

"Y'know what? Anything you do--I'm probably gonna like."

Nick grinned and refocused his attention. He wet his lips once more before dipping his head and touching his tongue to the tip of Warrick's impressive erection. After a few more careful licks to the head, Nick began running his tongue up and down the entire length.

Warrick was glad to let Nick explore new territory, he just wasn't sure he'd live through it. He had to grit his teeth the first time Nick cautiously took him in his mouth. If that wasn't bad enough, the strangled sound he made caused Nick to look up at him, and Nick Stokes giving him that under-the-lashes look while sucking on his dick was enough to drive Warrick insane.

Obviously enjoying the effect he was having, Nick grew bolder, taking more and more of Warrick's length in his mouth and sucking on the tip every time he drew back.

And this is the first time he's done this? Warrick groaned and wrapped his fists in the sheets to keep from just grabbing Nick's head and pumping himself into that wonderful wet heat.

Any noise Warrick made only encouraged Nick further, and his sucking became more enthusiatic until a desperate thrust of Warrick's hips surprised him. He released Warrick's throbbing erection from his lips and wrapped his hand around it again.

"Oh fuck, Nicky..." Warrick thrust mindlessly into his grip.

Warrick would have found Nick's intense concentration on his task even more of a turn-on, but he was too far gone to notice anything but sensation. Nick varied the pressure and speed until Warrick let out a hoarse cry and came over his stomach and Nick's hand.

When he finally caught his breath, Warrick raised his head to see Nick watching him intently, a smile hovering on his lips. "And you've never done that with anyone else before?" he panted.

The smile escaped, "No. Read a lot about it, though."

"Helluva book," Warrick retorted, making Nick snicker. After another moment, he turned to his side, where Nick's legs were stretched out. Nick had rolled slightly onto his side and Warrick could see that he hadn't been the only one affected by the learning experience. Holding onto Nick's ankle with one hand, Warrick ran the other from a muscular thigh up to Nick's hip and turned him more completely on his back. He took a minute to be grateful that Nick was such a creature of comfort that he'd bought himself a California King mattress years before--having so much room on the bed was a definite plus.

"What are you doing?" Nick's voice fairly vibrated with anticipation.

"Take a wild guess," Warrick drawled, then bent his head and engulfed half of Nick's erection in one mouthful.

"Jesus!" Nick yelped.

Warrick leaned his weight on Nick's legs so that he couldn't start thrusting and then proceeded to suck his new lover dry, swallowing every drop. Nick's back arched briefly and then he fell prone against the bed, his chest heaving. Warrick slowly released the now-soft member and gave it an affectionate kiss.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Nick mock-glared down the length of his body. "You damn show off."

Warrick grinned and straddled Nick with his arms and legs, then crawled up until they were almost face to face. He lowered his head and kissed Nick softly, letting the other man taste himself on his lover's lips. When they finally broke apart, Warrick smiled down into the dark, gleaming eyes, "Mornin', baby."

* * *

"What do you have to do today?"

"Nothing really," Nick set his empty plate on the coffee table, then leaned back. "Why? What about you?" "Yeah. When was the last time you were there?" Nick asked with a bit of a smile.

"The night after your prison visit."

"Oh." Nick's smile vanished.

Warrick turned Nick's head toward him for a quick kiss. "So you gonna tag along?"

"Sure."

"Maybe we could stop in at Amigo's for supper."

"Yeah, that'd be good. We could just pick up someth--or...yeah. Haven't been there for awhile."

Warrick smiled slightly. He knew Nick still had trouble in public places although it wasn't because of any actual trigger for an attack--he had most of those under control. It was the idea that if he did have one it would be in front of dozens of strangers that still made him very nervous. It would be much simpler to get take out and eat at Warrick's, and that had been Nick's first instinct since the burial, but Warrick could see him making a determined effort. He gave Nick another, longer kiss and Nick turned slightly so he could wrap an arm around Warrick's waist.

After a comfortable silence, Nick said cautiously, "I think I'm going to ask Phillip about going back to work again."

"Yeah?" Warrick wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that, but didn't want to discourage Nick in any way.

"Well, to start working towards it, anyway. Do you think Ecklie would consider part time in the lab or something? To start with?"

"Just in the lab?" Warrick tried not to sound too dubious.

Nick gave Warrick a little half-smile. "I know. All that glass still creeps me out sometimes, but if it turns out I'm not really ready and I--y'know...it's better if I'm in the lab than the field."

Warrick was half-listening to Nick, but the mention of Kane brought something else to mind, and the idea was very unsettling.

"This isn't like the last time, Warrick," Nick said when Warrick didn't respond. "It's almost three months now and I don't expect--"

"No. Hey, it sound like a pretty good plan. I was just wondering about something else."

"Yeah?"

"About your next visit with Kane..."

"On Tuesday," Nick clarified.

"You gonna mention this? Us?" Warrick regretted the question the moment it left his lips. He had never considered this would be short term, and was certain Nick felt the same way, but there was no telling how an outsider would view it.

Nick was silent as he considered Warrick question. "I never...really...hunh."

"It's none of my business, I know. I just--"

"I hadn't thought about that yet. I don't have to bring it up if you don't want me to."

Warrick wondered briefly what would be the best way to inflict bodily harm on himself for being such an asshole. He knew Nick would worry about why he mentioned it, and for what? So he could avoid yet another subject with Kane? The thought of avoiding the subject suddenly brought something else to mind and Warrick felt a smile tugging at his lips. He knew it was petty, he knew it was childish, but it was also irresistable. "Y'know what? Forget I said anything. Talk about whatever you want."

Nick gave him an assessing look. "What's going on, Warrick? Now you want me to tell him?"

A chuckle escaped before Warrick caught himself.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

"Yeah, mention it to him. And then I won't during my next session. You know Kane would be waiting--probably dying--for me to bring it up, but if I didn't, then he couldn't." Warrick smirked. "It would drive him nuts."

"Warrick!" Nick let out a horrified laugh. "You can't set up--why would you want to mess with the guy like that?"

"Just a little bit," Warrick said, and another laugh rumbled through him.

"But how would that help you?" Nick asked. "What--do you have a real problem with Dr. Kane?"

Warrick sobered when he saw Nick's obvious concern. "Ah...no. Not really. I like working with him--when it's work. I'm not crazy about the sessions, though."

Nick chewed on his lower lip as he disgested this.

"I just thought it would be fun to turn the tables."

"You think Phillip has been messing with you?" Nick's voice rose in alarm.

"No," Warrick waved that off. "Hell, forget I mentioned it."

"I always had a problem with the idea of therapy, too," Nick said quietly. "But he...he's been a big help to me, Warrick."

"I know." Warrick sighed and drew Nick a little closer. "I know that, Nicky. And that's the only reason I didn't flat out refuse. I just don't like that I've been more or less forced into it."

"Oh. Y'know, it's not like he has any say in who I...uh...see."

Warrick snickered at Nick's stumble.

Nick flushed and glared a bit. "Unless it's causing me problems, there's really no reason for Phillip to concern himself with it."

"Yeah well, either way, it's still none of my business," Warrick shrugged.

"Warrick," Nick kissed his neck softly and settled more comfortably against him. "You can ask me anything you want, y'know."

Warrick didn't know if he was touched or terrified by Nick's words. As much as he wanted to, he simply couldn't bring himself to return the sentiment.

Misinterpreting the silence, Nick began to backpedal. "Look, it's not like I think we--I know it's only been--"

Laying a finger over Nick's lips to stop the nervous tumble of words, Warrick gave him a devilish smile. "I can ask anything I want, huh?"

"Yeah..." Nick looked a bit wary.

Leaning in close, he murmured in Nick's ear, "When's the last time you did it on this couch, Nicky?"

* * *

"You okay?"

Nick rolled his eyes as he buckled his seat belt. "For the third time--yes, I'm okay. There was only a few minutes when we first got there, but--" He stopped when his phone rang.

Warrick pulled out of his parking spot near Amigo's and headed for his building, listening to Nick's conversation with half an ear.

"Yeah?" Nick was laughing a bit. "No....That's bull, buddy. You've got to be at work in a few hours....Yeah, okay. Talk to you later." He disconnected the call and looked at Warrick. "Greg."

"Checking up on you?"

"Yeah, I seem to get a lot of that," Nick returned dryly.

"No kidding?" Warrick grinned.

Nick watched the deepening dusk outside the window for a while, then turned back to Warrick. "How much time have you actually spent at your place since I--since the--well, since?"

We really need to find something to call that, Warrick thought idly as he also considered Nick's question. "Added up--about a month, I guess."

"And you still had to pay for two."

Warrick gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I needed someplace to keep my stuff," he smirked. "Besides, eventually I'm gonna have to stop staying at your place."

"Yeah," Nick agreed slowly.

"You were...we just started--dating, I guess. Moving in together would be...not a great idea."

"So we start seeing each other and you move out," Nick sounded amused. "That's a weird way of doing things."

"Yeah, well sometimes weird isn't such a bad thing." Warrick threw a smug look in Nick's direction. Then concentrated on pulling into his parking space in front of his building. "But you wouldn't know that, would you? Not if that sad excuse for a porn collection you've got is anything to go by."

Nick made a choking sound. "And I suppose while we're here I'll get to see the Warrick Brown Porn Collection?"

Warrick got out of his jeep. "If you're really lucky, you'll get to be the Warrick Brown Porn Collection."

Nick shot him a smoldering look and seemed about to say something, but abruptly stopped.

"There you are, Warrick."

Warrick spun to see his landlady approaching them. "Mrs. Hrynsuk."

"Could I speak to you?"

"Uh...sure," Warrick tossed the keys to Nick. "Be up in a minute."

"Okay." Nick gave Mrs. Hrynsuk a nod and a smile before starting up the stairs to the second balcony.

Mrs. Hrynsuk watched him go. "That your friend who got hurt?"

"Yeah. He's getting better."

"That's good to hear. I saw your car and decided to catch you while I could. Could you let me know when you're going to have anyone coming by to check on your place for you?"

His mind on Nick, Warrick barely registered the implication of his landlady's words. "You got it."

"Okay then," she smiled and returned to her first floor unit.

Warrick hurried up the stairs and was a bit surprised to find Nick waiting outside the door for him. "I gave you the keys for a reason, y'know," he teased, taking them.

Nick caught his wrist before he could grab the doorknob. "Don't touch anything."

He hadn't heard that authoritative tone from Nick for months, and Warrick could only blink in surprise. "What the hell, Nicky?"

"Female DB. Your place is a crime scene."

"Rick."

Brass' tone indicated it wasn't the first time he'd said Warrick's name, so Warrick reluctantly turned his attention away from the swing shift CSIs that were inside his apartment. "Sorry, Jim."

"Do you know the deceased?"

"I don't know. I didn't see the body."

"What do you mean you didn't see the body?"

"He didn't go in," Nick said. "I did."

Sofia climbed the stairs to join them on the small front balcony. Warrick nodded to her then turned back to Brass, "My landlady flagged me down, so I gave the keys to Nick."

"No, I didn't recognize her," Nick said in response to Brass' look.

"Nick," Sofia sounded a bit cautious. "I need to ask..."

Nick nodded his understanding, then easily rattled off-- "Okay...uh...I entered the apartment and turned on the light switch nearest the door. I didn't notice anything unusual until I rounded the corner by the kitchen and saw the DB. She looked dead at first glance, but just to be sure I checked for a pulse. I didn't find one, so I stuck to the same path out and used my sleeve on the doorknob."

Blinking once in surprise, Sofia nodded. "That takes care of that. Thanks."

"Let's go down to ground level," Brass suggested, nodding to David Phillips and several more people from the coroner's office. "It's going to get pretty crowded in a minute."

"Warrick," Sofia said. "Once the body is cleared, I'll need you to come in and check if anything is missing before we really start to process."

"You got it," Warrick agreed before following Brass and Nick down the stairs.

The three men gathered to one side of the stucco staircase. "When is the last time you were here?" Brass asked.

"Monday night."

"What's going on here?" Mrs. Hrynsuk emerged from her unit when more and more official vehicles continued to gather.

At the sight of her, her request finally registered with Warrick.

"I'm Captain Brass with the Las Vegas Police Department. We're investigating a possible--"

"Mrs. H," Warrick interrupted. "You asked me to let you know when I had anyone come and check the apartment for me."

Brass caught on at once. "Did you see someone entering the apartment?"

"You mean War--Mr. Brown's?" Mrs. Hrynsuk obviously decided she had be official as well. "I saw someone coming out."

"When was this?" Brass prompted.

"Oh...Wednesday night. Maybe eleven or so--" her wrinkled, capable-looking hands twisted nervously. "I had just got home from visiting my daughter and was going in when I heard someone up by Mr. Brown's door."

"Can you describe this person?"

Mrs. Hrynsuk reflected for a moment and then shook her head, "It was too shadowy up there. I called up and he said he was just checking the place for Warrick."

Warrick stiffened, "He said my name?"

Brass cleared his throat in warning, and Warrick gave him an even look.

"Warrick. Nick."

Both men turned to see Grissom standing next to his truck, well away from the scene. He beckoned for them to join him, but Warrick shook his head. Nick gave Warrick a not-so-gentle nudge in the ribs and after another brief hesitation, he moved toward their supervisor.

"Are you almost done here?" Grissom asked.

"Hell, no," Warrick scowled.

"They need him to ID the vic if possible," Nick supplied. "And then check for signs of burglary."

"Okay," Grissom nodded. "After that, check if Brass has any more questions for you. Then I want you to go h--back to Nick's."

"C'mon, Gris!" Warrick's frown darkened. "That's my place."

"Exactly."

The transporters from the coroner's office had maneuvered the stretcher down the steps and were heading for the van, Brass ambling along beside. They stopped when they reached Warrick and Brass pulled down the sheet covering the victim's face.

Apprehensively, Warrick leaned over to look at the young woman. She had almost certainly been beaten to death, but the damage to her face was not severe enough to obscure her features. Warrick didn't recognize her, even after wracking his memory and that was enough for an inward sigh of relief despite the seriousness of the situation. He shook his head to indicate she was unfamiliar and the coroner's people continued on their way.

"Got a tentative TOD," Brass checked his notepad. "You know I've gotta ask, Rick. Where were you Wednesday evening between eight and ten?"

"Crime scene," Warrick returned. "Where else?" Brass stared and Warrick's voice turned dry when he added, "On Sahara. You were there, too, Jim."

* * *

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about having a place to stay," Nick said as he and Warrick walked into his townhouse.

"That supposed to make everything better?" Warrick had been surly ever since Grissom and Nick had made him leave the scene.

"Maybe some," Nick sat on the couch. He watched Warrick circle the room several times before speaking again. "You said this new CSI--Marisol--is really good, and we know Sofia is."

"That's not the point!" Warrick growled, beginning another circuit.

"Just--try to calm down a little, Warrick. You've got the best possible alibi, at least you don't have to worry about anything like that."

"But it's my place! Do you have any idea what that's like?" Warrick realized the ridiculousness of his words the instant they left his mouth. "Oh, hell." He rubbed his face and glanced at Nick who was watching him with a sympathetic expression. "Decent of you not to call me out for being a complete moron."

"I know," Nick replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

With a reluctant laugh, Warrick sat down close to Nick. "It's not even the same thing, though, really. Yours was a lot more serious."

"Maybe, but I was also being medicated at the time," Nick gave him a crooked smile. "Beer?"

This time Warrick's laugh was a little more sincere. "Not if it means either of us getting up," he said, pulling Nick into his arms. He realized after several minutes that he was holding Nick much more tightly than usual, but couldn't bring himself to loosen his arms. Nick didn't seem to mind, though, as he settled in comfortably. Warrick could feel the soft breath against his neck as it slowly lulled most of his frustration and anger away--but not all of it. "He knew who I was."

"We don't know it's a ‘he,'" Nick responded automatically.

"You didn't get a good look at her face," Warrick countered. "It would have to be an exceptionally strong female."

"Fair enough. There was no sign of forced entry at your front door, so--you've got patio doors at the back, yeah?"

"Sofia didn't let me get a good look at them, though." Irritation tinged Warrick's voice more heavily, "Made me stick to looking for missing property."

"If the front door by the stairs isn't viable...and the killer would have had to climb onto the patio," Nick lifted his head. "It would have been tough enough to haul a body up there, but without anyone noticing?"

"More than one person?" Warrick threw out. "But yeah, she was probably killed at the scene."

"Probably," Nick ran a comforting hand up and down Warrick's side.

"That still doesn't explain how he knew my name."

"It could be something as simple as his having seen your name on something while he was inside."

"But what was he doing there in the first place?"

"Right. You said nothing was taken."

"Not that I could see. So why was he in there? If it's someone who knew me--"

"We'll just keep going in circles with the little information we have. You'll drive yourself nuts, Rick."

Warrick's only reply was a disgruntled sound. Nick sighed and rested his head against Warrick's chest, content to let Warrick get some brooding out of his system.

After several minutes of silence, Warrick said, "I could probably talk to Sofia about--"

"No, you couldn't," Nick interrupted, exasperated. "Sofia might have to ask you some questions, but you can't go poking around this case, Warrick. If it looks like you're too involved, your alibi could go from rock solid to dust in no time."

Warrick growled under his breath.

"Rick, I know it's hard to do."

"There's got to be a reason."

"There is," Nick returned. "It's just not your job to find it this time. You already know all this stuff, Warrick."

With another angry sound, Warrick bolted off the sofa. The moment he was on his feet, though, he changed his mind and sat back down. "Goddamn it!"

Having been jostled to the side by the sudden movement, Nick kept to his own space.

"Hell, you're right," Warrick passed a hand over his face. "This is going to drive me nuts."

"Try to stop thinking about it," Nick said, although his tone indicated he knew what an impossible suggestion that was.

"Fine. Give me something else to think about," Warrick retorted, half-expecting another sound of exasperation. Instead there was a charged silence. "Nicky?" Warrick turned to look at him.

Nick tilted his head slightly to one side. "I'm...not sure how exactly you meant that."

Warrick smirked. He had meant in regard to speaking, but now that Nick had brought the idea up, so to speak..."I guess it's about how you want to see it."

The dark eyes immediately sparked in response to the teasing tone, and almost before Warrick knew what was happening, Nick had straddled his lap so they were nearly face to face. "Guess what I want to see," Nick said with a wicked grin.

Warrick returned the grin with a slow smile of his own. "Well, well, well, someone's feeling pretty feisty tonight." He slid his hands up Nick's thighs to cup the back of the nicely-filled jeans.

"Am I?" Nick asked in mock innocence.

Instead of replying, Warrick tightened his grip and pulled Nick tight against him. Nick smiled and lowered his head slightly to meet Warrick's lips in a searing kiss.

It was over just as suddenly as it started. Neither of them got the chance to completely discard their clothes. Shirts open, jeans pushed down, they jerked and gasped their way to completion.

Half-laying, half-sitting on the couch with Nick draped over him, Warrick tried to catch his breath. "Jesus, what the hell was that?" he chuckled.

"Fun?" Nick suggested hopefully.

Warrick laughed again and kissed him softly. "Of course fun, baby. But damn, I haven't come that fast since high school."

"Not all that comfortable afterward, either," Nick said, pushing himself off Warrick. "Damn jeans are cutting off the circulation in my legs."

Warrick helped him into a standing position, and realized at once what he was talking about. He'd only pushed his jeans to the tops of his thighs, and the waistband and seams had twisted uncomfortably. "And messy," Warrick added, looking from his stomach to Nick's. "But worth it." He stood up and fixed his jeans as well.

"Definitely worth it," Nick stepped closer for another kiss, unmindful of the sweat and semen covering both their torsos.

"We should get cleaned up," Warrick didn't release him even after the kiss had ended. "How much of a problem do you still have in the shower?"

"Not as much," Nick smiled as he realized what Warrick was suggesting. "It's getting a little better."

"Let's see if we can make it a lot better."

* * *

The trilling of a cell phone woke both men late in the afternoon.

"Your phone," Warrick muttered.

"Is not," Nick mumbled in return.

Sort of.

"Put both phones on my side of the bed," Nick complained, flailing one arm toward the night stand. He snagged both cells, checked them, then dropped Warrick's on his chest. "Told you."

Warrick grunted and took the phone. "Warrick Brown."

"Sorry to bother you," came Sofia's smokey voice. "But we've got an ID on the vic. Does the name Candice Mosti mean anything to you?"

The name wasn't familiar, but it wasn't unfamiliar, either. "Almost. I can't place it off the top of my head, though."

"What about Royal Flush Models?"

"Yeah," Warrick pushed himself up on one arm--they definitely had something now. "A guy by the name of Donny Drummond ran it. He was found guilty of murdering--shit. The vic was another one of his models."

"Yes. I take it you hadn't heard about Drummond's verdict being overturned."

"What?"

Nick was sitting up beside him, quiet but watchful.

"It happened while you were on leave," Sofia explained. "Not because of evidence, but some technicality. The DA will probably be contacting you about testifying again."

Warrick nodded slowly, "That's what this is about, then."

"Nothing solid yet, but we're pretty sure there will be. The killer was sloppy and stupid."

"That sounds like Drummond," Warrick dead-panned.

"It seems to be an attempt to discredit you," Sofia didn't laugh, but her voice was laced with amusement. "And a very pathetic one at that."

Warrick breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at Nick to let him know it was good news. Nick returned the smile and dropped a quick kiss on Warrick's shoulder before getting out of bed.

"Warrick?"

"Sorry?" Warrick forced himself to focus on Sofia rather than Nick's naked form strolling to the bathroom. It wasn't easy.

"I was saying that this is going to be extra sensitive. You'll need to stay well away from it."

"Absolutely." It was actually quite easy to make the promise now that he knew what was going on.

"That also means staying away from the scene until the investigation is completed."

"I know. No problem."

"If you need anything from your place," Sofia continued. "You'll need to get an officer to accompany you."

"Will do," Warrick relaxed back against the pillows, feeling like a great weight had been lifted off him.

"We should be done in about a week or so."

"Sounds good to me. I'll talk to you when I get in tonight."

"All right. See you then."

Warrick hung up and let out another relieved sigh. He still hated the situation, but anything was better than the unknown. He got up and went into the bathroom, which looked much neater than they had left it the night before--or just that morning, actually. Their discarded clothes and the towels they'd used to dry off were all gone. Warrick couldn't help smiling as he stepped into the shower; Nick wasn't exactly a neat freak, but his mother and sisters had definitely taught him a thing or two about picking up after himself.

Twenty minutes later, Warrick padded into the kitchen and couldn't help smiling at the sight of Nick sitting on the counter clad only in jeans. He was munching on plain nacho chips and watching something in the microwave.

"So?" He asked when he saw Warrick.

"Remember a guy named Donny Drummond? Ran a modeling agency--mostly convention girls."

"He killed one of them, right?"

"Right. He's getting another trial based on some technicality. And he's trying to discredit me before the new trial."

Nick stared in disbelief, one hand poised to open the microwave. "He tried to frame you?"

"That's what it looks like right now. Sofia says he's done a really sad job of it though." Warrick watched Nick take a large plate out of the microwave and smiled ruefully. Nick seemed to think that adding salsa and cheese to leftovers qualified as a new meal. This time, though, it was the doggie bag from Amigo's that he'd chopped up, and the whole thing smelled pretty damn good. He poured himself a cup of coffee and Nick used a chip to try out the concoction. "Anyway, she thinks they should be done with my place in about a week."

"Ummm," Nick finished his nacho, then leaned forward to give Warrick a kiss. "Are you going to move back in when it's ready?"

Warrick had been reaching for a nacho, but froze at Nick's question.

"Oh. Are you even going to move back in? Or find a new place?"

That distracted Warrick for a moment, but he quickly abandoned the notion. "Nah. I'll probably stay where I am. You anxious for me to get out of here all of a sudden?"

"Not exactly," Nick fed Warrick a heavily laded chip. "But I think we need to figure out some new arrangements before I'm back at work."

Warrick considered this as he chewed and eventually nodded.

Nick grinned at him. "‘Bout time we slept in your bed."

Putting his hands on Nick's thighs, Warrick stepped closer. "What is it with you lately?" he laughed.

"I'm happy," Nick said simply.

Those two words managed to simultaneously warm Warrick's heart and scare him to death.

"I understand quite a lot has happened since our last visit."

Warrick stared blankly at Phillip Kane, unable to believe he was so blatantly bringing up something he would have learned from Nick. "What did you say?"

"It's fairly common knowledge in the department that a body was found at your place."

"Oh, that," Warrick shrugged. During the past week of the investigation, the shock and worry of having a murdered model in his apartment had faded, replaced by other concerns. "Yeah, the scene was released just before the weekend, so I was able to move back in on Sunday." Technically.

"What did you think I was referring to?"

Warrick shot him a baleful look. It crossed his mind briefly to go with his original plan of refusing to bring up his new relationship, but he was in no longer in the mood for playful fencing. "It's tempting to say nothing," he admitted. "But I know you're just going to keep poking until I bring up what's happened between me and Nick."

"And what's happened between you and Nick?"

"We got together. About ten days ago."

"And...what? You're worried I might disapprove?"

Warrick's lip curled, "I don't give a good goddamn whether you approve or not."

"Then why are you being so hostile?" Kane asked, ever calm.

"Because I know what it could look like to someone who doesn't know what's going on. But that's not what it is."

"What do you think it looks like?"

It was all Warrick could do to remain in his seat. "Y'know what? We're done," he said with a look of disgust. "You can write down that I'm hostile or uncooperative or whatever you want in that file of yours, but I'm not going to let you force me to talk myself in circles while you sit there like some smug, all-knowing bastard and try fishing with idiotic, leading questions."

"Feel better?"

Warrick didn't answer, and instead let his sneer speak for him, telling Kane exactly what he thought of another such question.

"You want me to level with you," Kane looked at Warrick over the tops of his glasses. "Are you sure?"

"That would be a nice change."

"Fine. I believe that you've appointed yourself Nick's guardian angel and not entirely for reasons of his well-being. I believe you fear seeing Nick's dependance on you decreasing and this relationship is your way of maintaining it. I believe that although you want what is best for Nick, you want to be the one to provide it in the hope that it will ease the guilt you still feel at that coin toss." Kane gave Warrick a steady look, "Satisfied?"

"Honestly?" Warrick said with a smug smile of his own. "Yeah. Wrong, wrong, wrong and wrong. Just like I thought."

"Really?" Kane looked politely incredulous.

"Really."

"Warrick, we aren't going to get anywhere if you lie to me and yourself."

Warrick's smile disappeared. "I'm not lying."

"Then perhaps you could explain to me why this sudden change from friendship to romantic love is not a misguided attempt to remain a big part of Nick's life," Kane said, ignoring the fact that Warrick's glare was heating up again. "Perhaps you would like to explain why I shouldn't be concerned that your feelings are not part of the obligation you feel. Tell me why, Warrick."

"Because I've been in love with him for the last three years!" Warrick snapped.

A heavy silence fell over the office. At any other time Warrick would have been happy to see he had managed to throw Kane completely off balance, but he was too stunned at his own words to notice.

"Well," Kane finally said. "That does change things."

"Fuck," Warrick closed his eyes.

* * *

Warrick debated going back to his apartment or returning to Nick's after his session with Kane finally ended. Although Kane became quite understanding after Warrick's angry confession and actually allowed Warrick to sit in silence rather than verbally poking at him, it had still been excruciating. Warrick had no problem with the fact that he loved Nick--he'd had to deal with and accept it long before this, but he'd certainly never intended to blurt it out to anyone.

Especially considering he still hadn't worked up the nerve to tell Nick yet.

Right now, the last thing he wanted to do was throw Nick off balance in any way, because in the ten days since the discovery of Candace Mosti's body, Nick had settled happily into the idea of returning to work. Not all, but a large portion of Nick's confidence seemed to have been restored, and with that came the self-assurance that he could deal with any more attacks that came his way. The attacks had been lessening steadily before this, but what Nick seemed most happy with was his ability to sometimes recognize and stop them before they got out of control. There were still new triggers to deal with all the time, because Nick was spending more and more time in unfamiliar and unpredictable surroundings, but he was getting better at dealing with them on his own all the time.

Spending more time out among people was still something Nick had to do intentionally, when before it had always come naturally. In "public," Nick was cautious and quiet, and Warrick wondered if they'd ever see the cheerful, friendly Nick again. When it was just the two of them, Nick was teasing and affectionate, but Warrick knew there were other reasons for that besides Nick's recovery.

Whatever the reason, Warrick had no intention of setting Nick back the slightest bit if he could help it. That meant that until he'd sorted through everything Kane had said both before and after his admission, it would probably be better if he kept to himself. Nick didn't need to deal with him when he was moody and distant, and Warrick knew he had the tendency to be both when something was preying on his mind.

Warrick saw that his subconscious had made the decision long before, because he had taken the route to his apartment instead of Nick's townhouse. He dialed Nick's number as he climbed the stairs and let himself in.

"Nick Stokes."

That got a smile out of Warrick despite his dark mood. No doubt next week at this time, Nick would be answering the phone just "Stokes," as he always used to on the job. "Hey."

"Hey," the smile was obvious in Nick's voice. "You on your way back?"

"Actually, I'm back at my place. What are you up to?"

"I've got that meeting with Gris and Ecklie in another hour, remember?"

Warrick gritted his teeth--he'd forgotten that. "Are you okay to go alone?"

Nick laughed, "Of course. If you had to come with me, that would nullify the whole point of the meeting."

"Okay. Well, I've got stuff to take care of here. I probably won't see you before shift."

"No problem, man." It was the little phrases when Nick sounded most like his old self. "I'll see you after work."

"I...I'll be coming back here after work, Nicky." Warrick knew that statement would have gone over better without the quiver.

"All...right. Uh..." Nick was silent for a moment. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I've just gotta...take care of some things."

"Anything I can help with, Rick?"

Warrick closed his eyes--he really should have seen that one coming. Of course Nick was going to offer his help. "Nah, Nicky. It'll be fine."

"Warrick..." Nick sounded worried now.

All Warrick could think was that Nick didn't need anything else to worry about. "It's not anything bad. It's definitely not second thoughts. I just need to sort some stuff out. But I'm not going anywhere, Nicky. Okay?"

"Okay," Nick sounded a little relieved. "I'll...see you tomorrow then?"

"Probably around one or so, unless I have a double."

"Oh. Okay, good." The fact that Warrick gave him a time seemed to ease Nick's mind even further. "I'll see you then, Rick."

"See you, babe," Warrick returned, and hung up. He glanced around his spotless apartment, professionally cleaned courtesy of the department, and dropped onto his favorite chair. Grabbing the remote, he decided that some mindless afternoon television would be just what his overloaded brain needed.

* * *

What most people considered a late morning run was something Nick did when he couldn't sleep. Normally at nine or ten in the morning, graveyard CSIs would be heading home or already in bed, but Nick had tossed and turned enough to know that he wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon.

He settled into a smooth stride, enjoying the peace and quiet of the park not far from his new townhouse. Earlier, the place would have been crowded with joggers, and later it would be overrun with kids, but right now Nick practically had the whole park to himself. He quickened his pace as he turned onto an unpaved road that made up his last mile.

When he heard a vehicle approaching from behind, Nick edged over a bit to let it pass. He saw a flash of red as the truck roared past, then had to slow to a near-walk to avoid all the dust it kicked up. Trying to keep from choking, Nick didn't register the white SUV driving up.

Daylight turned to sudden darkness when a man jumped from the SUV and covered Nick's face with a rag. Nick struggled against his captor, but the man dragged him into the back of the SUV and slammed the door shut behind them.

"NICK!!!"

Warrick awoke tangled in sweat-soaked sheets.

Gasping in huge lungfuls of air, he struggled into a sitting position and tried to force the nightmare images from his mind. He checked his clock and saw it was almost ten-thirty--he hadn't been asleep for more than an hour.

A dream. He's fine. He's at his place, probably asleep. He's fine.

"Fuck." Warrick threw back the covers and got up. Five minutes later, he was weaving his way through the midmorning traffic on his way to Nick's. He hit Nick's number on the speed dial and waited impatiently.

"‘Lo."

Warrick breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the drowsy voice even though he knew--he knew--it had been a dream. "Hey, Nicky," he tried to sound casual but knew he was failing miserably. "I'm on my way over, is that okay?"

"Of course it is," Nick was understandably bewildered. "Are you okay, Rick?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few minutes." He broke the connection before Nick could ask any more questions.

Nick was waiting by the door when Warrick arrived. He stared in silence for nearly a minute, then--"Jesus, Warrick, what is it?"

Warrick didn't answer, couldn't answer, a voice in the back of his mind said. Instead, he pulled Nick against him and held on. Dressed only in pajama bottoms, Nick's skin was still warm from sleep, and Warrick pressed close, breathing in the clean, intoxicating scent of him.

Nick wrapped one arm around Warrick's back and threaded the fingers of his other hand through Warrick's hair. "Rick, you look...tell me what's going on, Warrick."

"Nothing," Warrick muttered into Nick's neck. "Nothing's wrong."

"Warrick," Nick tried to pull back, but Warrick only held on tighter. "Rick, you're sweating. You're half-dressed, you look like--I know something happened. Was it work? Is this about your session, because since then you--"

Warrick stopped those questioning lips the best way he knew how. Nick made a half-hearted sound of protest before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Feeling Nick turn pliant and willing under his hands and lips only pushed Warrick further toward the feelings that frightened him the most. Possessiveness, dark hunger and near-obsession--things about himself that he'd always tried his damnedest to keep under control. These were the emotions that scared him the most, even though he reveled in the sensations they could bring out. But it was one thing to allow them to control him when the result was addiction, it was another entirely when the result could cause pain to the healing, tender man in his arms.

"Rick...Rick, it'll be okay," Nick panted, when they finally broke off the kiss. "Just tell me what's going on."

"I need you," Warrick said hoarsely, and bit down lightly on Nick's neck. "Oh god, Nicky, I need you so bad."

"I'm right here, Rick," Nick murmured, running his hands up and down Warrick's back. "It's okay. I'm right here."

"All of it, Nicky," Warrick's slipped one hand under the loose drawstring waistband and traced the very top of Nick's cleft. "All of you."

"Yeah?" Nick drew back slightly to he could look into Warrick's eyes. "It's okay, Rick. You were the one holding off. You know I've wanted to almost from the start." Despite the calm words, a slight tremor wavered through his voice, and the dark eyes were bright with trepidation.

Seeing Nick so nervous but so willing only churned Warrick's emotions into more chaos, and he wanted desperately to tell Nick that now would be a good time to run for the hills. It was so tempting to just let go of his emotions, to throw Nick to the floor and have him right there, and Warrick had to literally pull back to keep himself from doing just that.

Nick stopped him from pulling back completely, though, and drew him toward the bedroom. "I...I've got everything we need, Rick. I got it a few days after we first...I tried a few times before with just the--I mean, you saw what I had at my old place...it's not like I don't know anything about it..."

The nervous rambling gave Warrick time to get himself back under control, so that by the time they'd reached the bed, he felt it was safe to pull Nick down onto it with him. "Be sure, Nicky."

"Of course I'm sure," Nick returned, trailing his fingers down Warrick's face. "Nervous as hell, but I'm still sure."

"Okay," Warrick traced Nick's lips with a finger before capturing them in another kiss. "Everything we need in the night stand?"

Nick nodded, watching as Warrick pulled off his shirt and track pants. After a moment's hesitation, he followed suit, kicking off his pajama bottoms. "What should I..?" he swallowed hard. "I mean, how should I..? Do I need to--" Warrick hushed him with another kiss.

Pushing Nick onto his back, Warrick began kissing his way down to Nick's chest. One hand slid further along to grasp Nick's half-hard cock and encourage it to fullness. Nick let out a sigh and cupped Warrick's head, already knowing the sweet torture he was in for.

Going from one nipple to another, Warrick alternately nibbled, sucked and licked while he steadily stroked Nick's erection.

"Rick...god, Rick...please..."

Warrick gave him a smoldering look before dropping more kisses down Nick's abdomen, slowly but constantly moving lower. Nick let out a sound that was half-dismay, half-pleasure as Warrick started the same process on his erection as he had on his nipples.

When Nick began thrusting erratically and gasping his name, Warrick backed off and circled the base of Nick's cock with his fingers, squeezing slightly. Nick's moan choked off in a sound of pure frustration. "Warrick."

"Turn over, baby," Warrick murmured, opening the night stand drawer.

Nick stilled, but then complied, reaching down to adjust himself as he did.

Warrick warmed the lube in his hand and let his gaze roam over the smooth skin of Nick's back and down to that tempting ass. He reminded himself again that he had everything he wanted stretched out before him and if he didn't maintain control, he could ruin things for the most important person in his life.

Moving one finger in between the firm buttocks, Warrick teased the tight opening until Nick was squirming under his touch and then pushed past the ring of muscle. Nick shifted slightly, then took a deep breath and relaxed again. It was when he added a second finger that Warrick found Nick's prostate, making Nick gasp and arch his hips up, trying to press back against him. "Yeah, baby, just like that," Warrick encouraged as Nick kept pushing back on his fingers. He stretched the tight passage enough to add a third finger, and Nick began moving in earnest.

When Warrick withdrew his fingers, Nick let out a whimper of protest and collapsed back onto the bed. Warrick rolled on the condom as quickly as he could with shaking fingers and stretched himself out over the waiting body. Nick went completely still as Warrick's weight pressed him into the mattress. "Easy, baby," Warrick purred as he positioned himself. "It'll be fine."

Warrick eased himself into Nick's body as slowly as he could, but when he was halfway there, his control slipped, and with several quick thrusts, he had buried himself to the hilt.

"Wait, wait," Nick pleaded, writhing beneath him.

The movement only made Warrick want to go harder and faster. "Goddammit, Nicky, don't move!" he commanded through gritted teeth. Panting, Nick did his best to remain still, and with a tremendous effort Warrick managed to get himself back under control again. Laying quietly on top of him, Warrick did his best to give Nick time to adjust. "Tell me when you're ready, baby," he whispered. "And if you want to call it off it better be now."

Breathing deeply, Nick shook his head. "Don't stop. Yeah, it's okay now. It's good now."

Warrick believed him--he could feel that Nick's muscles had become less rigid. "Okay, babe," he pulled part of the way out and slid in at a slightly different angle. "I'm gonna make you crazy, baby...just wait..." He kept up this slow process until Nick let out a choked gasp of pleasure and his entire body jerked in response. "Oh yeah..." Warrick braced himself on his arms to maintain the angle and began sliding easily in and out of the tight, moist heat. "Oh, fuck yeah..."

Nick's movements were so erratic as he ground his hips into the mattress that Warrick had a difficult time keeping a steady rhythm. He felt Nick's body tighten for several long minutes before going limp beneath him, and finally gave in to his emotions. "You're mine, Nicky," he growled fiercely, "All mine...all mine." Warrick bit back a shout as he poured himself into Nick's welcoming warmth.

Nick was still lying quietly beneath him when Warrick finally became aware of his surroundings again. "Nicky?"

"Mmmm..?" Nick sounded blissfully content.

Warrick eased out as carefully as he could, but Nick still let out a hiss of discomfort. Quickly, he got rid of the condom and turned back to the man beside him. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked, almost afraid to hear what Nick thought of the crazy intensity he'd allowed to envelope him.

Nick turned slightly on his side, his eyes barely open, "M'good."

"You sure?"

His worried tone made Nick open his eyes wider. "I'm sure, Rick." He paused to consider, "Kinda sore, I guess. But nothing really bad." He shifted closer and nestled his head on Warrick's shoulder, "What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Warrick couldn't think of an adequate response because more questions were racketing around his head. What the hell is wrong with you, Nicky? Couldn't you tell what was going on here? Why didn't it scare the hell out of you the way it should have? Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?

"Warrick?"

"I didn't like staying at my place without you," Warrick told him. Just enough truth to pull off the bluff.

Nick was silent for several minutes, then Warrick felt the press of lips on his skin. "Okay, Rick," he murmured sleepily.

It took a long time, but eventually Nick's peaceful, even breathing managed to lull Warrick to sleep as well.

"C'mon, Nick. Sit down and eat something."

"I can't." Nick glanced at his watch, then at the clock in the kitchen. "I don't think I want anything in my stomach." He bent slightly to look at the time on his stereo.

"You're going to wear yourself out before shift even starts."

Nick finally joined Warrick on the sofa. "I'm ready to go back, though. I am." He straightened his shirt collar, even though he planned to get changed before work. "Kane and I have been working at--he thinks I'm ready. Gris thinks I'm good to go back." He looked at Warrick, "I'm ready, right?"

"Yeah, Nicky," Warrick rubbed the back of Nick's neck reassuringly. He knew that Nick probably was ready to go back to work. Warrick still wasn't sure he was ready for it, but that was his problem, not Nick's. His determination not to undermine Nick's continuing recovery with anything so ridiculous as his own insecurities had only increased over the past week. "You'll be fine."

"Thanks, Rick," Nick smiled and rested his hand on Warrick's thigh. "I just--"

"What?"

"What if--I mean, I still don't know whether I'll be better going out into the field or staying in the lab." Nick let his head fall forward slightly. "If something...if something happens on the job..." A slight hitch in his voice made the blood drain from his face, "Oh no...no..."

"Hey." Warrick moved his hand and ran it through Nick's hair. "Hey, Nicky. Don't worry about it so much. If you have a problem with one, you'll just switch to the other."

Nick nodded shakily. "This h-hasn't happened...f-for...why am I--I...dammit..." He stopped talking and began taking long, slow breaths.

"Okay, baby," Warrick encouraged softly. "You've got nothing to worry about. You're just a little wound up right now, but you'll probably fall right back into it when you get there." He considered telling Nick that even if something went terribly wrong, no one would think anything of him taking more time, but decided not to bring up anything negative. He was so relieved that Nick hadn't been scared off by his behavior during the past week and didn't want to press his luck. Nick had certainly noticed he'd been acting oddly, but thus far didn't seem bothered by it. "There you go," he smiled as the jag began to pass before it really started. "You've got that breathing thing down."

"Maybe we could go in earlier than we'd planned," Nick suggested. "Maybe eight or so? I'm just getting more and more nervous sitting here."

"Nicky," Warrick shook his head. "We're going in an hour early as it is. What're you gonna do for two? It's not like you have paperwork to catch up on. Let's just stick to what we originally planned, okay?"

Nick checked his watch again. "That's another three hours." He started to get off the couch, but Warrick caught him around the waist and pulled him back down. "Rick!" Nick couldn't help laughing, even though he protested.

"You need to relax, baby," Warrick held Nick practically on his lap and nuzzled his ear. "Bad enough you barely got any sleep."

"Not entirely my fault," Nick pointed out with a teasing smile.

"Hey, I was just making the most of the situation," Warrick grinned.

"Yeah, you're good at that," Nick agreed, turning slightly so they could share several soft kisses.

"Better, babe?" Warrick murmured against Nick's cheek. "Just rest easy for a while."

Feeling Nick settle comfortably against him, Warrick wished he could take his own advice. Until he was able to, though, he would be satisfied with appearing to have everything under control.

* * *

No one was working in the Las Vegas CSI headquarters.

All the CSIs from graveyard and swing, as well as a few from days and all the scheduled techs were currently gathered in the hallway by the DNA lab.

And they had Nick Stokes surrounded.

Most of them hadn't seen Nick since he'd left the hospital, and they were all eager to hear how he was doing. Everyone wanted to tell Nick he was looking better and they were glad to have him back and things hadn't been the same without him and they were so relieved he was returning to work and they had so much to catch up on and had they ever missed him.

Nick seemed stunned by the attention. Still, he managed to hug or shake hands whenever it was required. He didn't get the chance to answer much, because everyone kept talking over the other.

Warrick stood just on the outside of the group, but made sure he was in Nick's line of sight. He didn't want to seem blatantly overprotective, because that wouldn't do Nick any good, but he wanted Nick to be able to signal if he needed out.

So far Nick was handling it well, but that might have been because Catherine was right beside him with an arm around his waist while she teased him in her usual sassy style. She had returned after her shift ended, bringing good luck wishes from Lindsey as well for Nick's first night back.

Nick managed a smile for her, but when he glanced over at Warrick, his eyes held the beginnings of uncertainty. All the attention was beginning to overwhelm Nick until a bored voice drawled, "If you people break into song, I swear I'm filing a worker's comp claim."

That earned David Hodges glares from his fellow techs and a grin from Nick. The amused relief didn't last long, though, and Warrick was trying to come up with an excuse to extract Nick from the group when Conrad Ecklie descended on them like a vulture in a three-piece suit. "Excuse me, I believe this is still a functioning lab. At least it's supposed to be."

As the techs began to slowly disperse, and Warrick found himself feeling grateful to Ecklie.

Again.

He was probably going to need medication for that.

CSIs from all shifts still had Nick surrounded, but Grissom took care of that. "Conrad and I still have some things to catch you up on, Nicky. Let's go to his office so we can get that taken care of."

Nick glanced at Warrick once more, his relief evident, then followed Grissom and Ecklie down the hall. Catherine said good night and headed back home, while the swing CSIs all wandered back to what they'd been doing and Warrick joined Sara and Greg in the break room to wait for assignments.

"Is he going to go in the field or stay in the lab?" Greg asked as they all sat at the table. "Last time I talked to him, he still wasn't sure."

"I think it depends on where Gris puts him," Warrick replied. "But I'm pretty sure he'd rather be in the field."

"But not on his own," Sara chewed on the end of her stir-stick.

"No, but he already knows he won't be working solo for a while," Warrick said. "Gris had mentioned that to him a while ago."

"And he's okay with that?"

Warrick tilted his head slightly. "More or less. He understands why, anyway."

"So you and he will be teaming up on most of the cases?" Greg looked curious.

"That depends on how Gris hands out assignments," Warrick said casually, not letting on that he had been doing a lot of wondering about that himself.

"Well, let's find out," Sara jerked her chin toward the door so both men turned to watch Grissom and Nick approaching.

Grissom slowed to let Nick enter first, and he glanced around with an awkward smile before taking a seat between Warrick and Sara. Sara gave him a happy smile and his arm a quick squeeze before everyone turned their attention to Grissom.

Their supervisor was silent for several minutes as he surveyed them, then with a small, satisfied nod, he began handing out assignments. "Sara, suspicious circs for you out in Winchester."

"I'm on it," Sara took the slip, but remained seated.

"Warrick, you and Greg have two 419s in Vegas Heights. Looks like a murder-suicide." Grissom pretended not to notice as all his CSIs exchanged glances. "Nick, you're with me. We've got a death imminent out in Tanglewood," he handed Nick the paper.

Warrick was acutely aware of Greg and Sara watching to see how he was taking being partnered with Greg instead of Nick, but Warrick didn't have to worry about how much his expression revealed for once. He wasn't certain it would be good for he and Nick to work a scene together, because he knew he would be more concerned with how Nick was handling things than with any evidence at the scene. And if he wasn't going to be working with Nick, the only person Warrick felt comfortable doing so at this point was Grissom. As an added bonus, Brass was usually the detective who worked Grissom's cases, which would also be better for Nick.

As everyone stood up to head out, Nick caught Warrick's eye and gave him a nervous, but hopeful smile. Warrick managed to maneuver close to his side as the group moved down the hall and gave him a reassuring nudge before saying, "Good luck, bro," in his usual tone.

Nick's smile widened ever-so-slightly. "You too," he returned before they headed off in different directions.

* * *

Detective Vartann, along with several uniforms, was waiting for Warrick and Greg outside a ramshackle house in Vegas Heights. Warrick was glad for the distraction, because Greg had been giving him funny looks during the ride over, so that Warrick was beginning to wonder how quickly people might begin catching onto the situation between him and Nick. Greg didn't ask any questions, though, for which Warrick was grateful--he still wasn't certain how much Nick wanted to tell people. He still wasn't certain how much he wanted to tell people, for that matter.

"Word is it's a murder-suicide," Warrick said to the detective as he grabbed his kit.

"That's what it looked like to the first officer," Vartann agreed. "But something looks a little off to me. Everyone stuck to one path in and out of the kitchen, but we also had to make sure the rest of the house was clear. The only things that were touched were the doorknobs upstairs. Coroner's still on the way."

"Good enough," Warrick nodded, then glanced at Greg. "Let's go."

No more than ten minutes at the crime scene was enough to reveal this was not a murder-suicide, but a double murder. Which meant they still had a suspect at large. Which meant, Warrick thought with a sigh, that barring a miracle, they were probably looking at overtime.

Tracking a suspect took Warrick, Greg and Vartann out to Lake Mead only to discover that he was not their killer and there were actually several more people they had to investigate. Pink light was just beginning to streak the sky when Warrick finally met up with Nick again.

Nick was in the layout room with clothing and a blanket spread over the light table while he examined them for trace. He was so intent on his task and looked so content that Warrick could almost believe the past several months had never happened.

Almost.

"Hey," Warrick strolled in and looked over all the items. "How's it going?"

Nick dropped several fibers in a bindle before looking up. "Pretty good," he said with a smile. Although still not quite up to the standard of his former dazzlers, the smiles were getting brighter and came more easily with each passing day. "To tell you the truth, I didn't expect it to be this easy. I know it won't always be so simple, but it's been good so far. How's your case? Jacqui says you've got more suspects than you know what to do with."

"Ain't that the truth," Warrick sat down at the table and looked over Nick's notes. "Seven suspects and so far we've only ruled two of them out. We haven't even found the other five yet."

"Overtime," Nick nodded.

"Unless this guy Vartann's gone to haul in bursts into spontaneous confession, it'll be a couple of hours, minimum. You?" Warrick grinned and Nick started laughing.

"Yeah, like Gris'll let me clock any overtime on my first night back. He said I could leave early if I wanted to."

"But you don't want to," Warrick's grin eased into a smile as Nick bent his head over the blanket to begin scanning it.

"No, I don't want to," Nick flicked a glance up at Warrick.

"I'll swing by at eight to give you a ride home, then."

Nick shook his head. "There's a lot of people I can catch a ride with, Rick. What if you're chasing a lead?"

"Then I'll give you a call and we'll see where we're at." It was all Warrick could do to keep the goofy smile of his face. He knew it was in response to the smile that had been hovering around Nick's lips and eyes the entire time they'd been talking. "Catch you later, baby," he murmured and enjoyed the slight blush that rose to Nick's cheeks.

Warrick was infinitely relieved that Nick's first day, at least, was smooth sailing. In fact, his mood was good enough that when the home of Suspect #4 became Crime Scene #2, he wasn't too pissed off. Instead while he and Greg waited for Vartann and the uniforms to clear the large home, he got out of the Tahoe and walked around to the back to call Nick.

"Stokes."

Grinning, Warrick greeted, "Hey, Stokes."

Nick laughed. "Hi. You're out in Henderson, yeah?"

"How did you know?"

"I was with Jim when Vartann called it in."

"So you're just getting ready to go home, right?"

"Yeah, Gris told me to call it a night. I'm at my locker right now, actually."

"How you feeling?"

"Good," Nick assured him. "But a lot more tired than I expected. David's done in another ten minutes, though, and he's going to give me a lift home."

Warrick felt part of his good mood evaporate. "David. Hodges?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Warrick did his best to sound casual. "Look, I don't know if this is going to turn into a double, but it'll be a few more hours at least, so I'll see you later."

"Okay, Rick," Nick replied and Warrick noted that he did sound tired, but cheerful, too. "See you."

Warrick ended the call and climbed back into the driver's seat. He felt Greg glance over at him, but evidently something in his expression kept the younger CSI from commenting. Warrick kept his eyes on the house while he tried to calm his emotions which had suddenly unsettled themselves again. Because that's what he was--unsettled.

Not jealous.

Certainly not jealous of Hodges. There was no reason to be worried about Hodges taking Nick home, because he knew Nick Stokes. He knew that even though they'd only been together for a very short time, Nick was taking their relationship seriously. Nick was not someone who would two-time a lover. So no matter how amusing Nick found Hodges, no matter how much nicer Hodges was to Nick than to everyone else, Nick was not going to fall into bed with him.

On the other hand, Nick was still frighteningly vulnerable and it was conceivable that if Hodges wanted to, he could take advantage of that vulnerability.

Like you did, buddy?

That was a path Warrick definitely didn't want to travel down, because he still wasn't sure what he would find there. Kane's initial assessment still floated through Warrick's consciousness. Had he used this opportunity to finally get something he'd always wanted? Something he might not have had under different circumstances?

Even if that was the case, they were both happy. Did it matter how or why?

"Clear."

Warrick blinked, "What?"

Greg nodded to the front door where the uniforms were exiting the house. "The house is clear. You ready to go?" There was a note of concern in his voice, but his expression was bland.

"Yeah," Warrick said, grateful again for the distraction. "Let's see what turns up at this one."

* * *

As he pulled out onto Westfall Avenue, Warrick briefly considered going back to his own place, but knew that would be absolutely pointless. He'd only slept at his apartment once since getting it back, and Nick had been with him. He'd tried once more without Nick, but wound up going back to the townhouse then, too. His erratic behavior hadn't stopped Nick from always welcoming him with open arms, though, and that was something that Warrick was both afraid of and grateful for.

Getting out his key, he saw that the alarm had been turned on, a sure sign that Nick was asleep. Nick had given him the code on his second day out of Avalon Springs, so Warrick used it now to let himself in, then reset it. He went straight to the bedroom after kicking off his shoes and for the longest time, just stood staring at the man sleeping so–thank God--peacefully.

Nick was on his stomach, one arm curled around Warrick's pillow. Warrick watched the shadows play along the muscled back before undressing as quietly as possible. He was glad he'd taken a shower before leaving work--it saved him doing it here and possibly waking Nick. Nude, he slipped under the covers, gently moving Nick's arm from his pillow.

"Rick..?" Nick stirred slightly.

"Of course," Warrick smiled, lying back and sliding one arm under Nick.

"Time izzit?"

"Almost noon. Go back to sleep, baby."

Nick snuggled against him and did just that.

Warrick knew he should probably be concerned with the fact that he could no longer fall asleep without the soothing sound of Nick's breathing next to him, but at the moment he was too content to care.

"They're taking bets."

"What?" Sara looked confused. "Who is?"

"The techs," Greg clarified. "Some of the CSIs from days and swing."

"On what?" Sara's expression turned dangerous. "Not on Nick."

"Not exactly. Mostly on Warrick."

"Warrick?" That threw her off.

"On when he's going to blow up at Grissom for never partnering him with Nick."

Sara let out a snort of disdain, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Who's betting on that?"

Greg took his eyes off the road to judge just how pissed off Sara was with this revelation. "People. No one from graveyard, and the people from days are scared to death about Catherine finding out."

"They should be."

"I just mentioned it because we could put our money on...like next year or something and clean up."

That got a reluctant smile out of Sara. "It would serve them right."

Greg smiled and let out an inward sigh of relief. There was a good chance that Sara would have blown up if she unexpectedly came across someone betting, and the other shifts were already looking a little askance at graveyard. Since Nick's return to work, he never went out on a call without Grissom. It quickly became known that if Nick Stokes was on a case, Grissom would be, too. Greg and Sara might also be along for the ride, but Grissom was definitely on the case. And just as definitely, Warrick Brown would not be anywhere near it.

As far as Greg could see, Warrick and Grissom were in complete agreement about this arrangement, although neither of them ever commented on it. Nick was silent on the subject as well, concentrating on doing his job. If it ain't broke... Greg finally decided, because the days were slipping past without any noticeable setbacks on Nick's part.

Warrick on the other hand... Greg glanced over at Sara and wondered if he should broach that subject with her. He decided against it. While Sara could spot evidence at a crime scene that no one else did and could often do the same with suspects in interrogation, she often missed the mark when it came to her co-workers. Months before he might have gone to Nick with his concerns, but if his suspicions were right, then that wasn't an option. Bringing it up with Warrick could actually be dangerous. Even though there was no residual animosity left after their sniping during the search for Nick, the fact was that when it came to Nick, Warrick was not always reasonable.

As they reached their destination, Greg decided to refocus his insatiable curiosity on the scene.

For now.

* * *

Gil found the ease with which Nick strolled into his office reassuring. It was several days after his return before he would actually enter Gil's office, opting instead to speak to Gil from the doorway. It wasn't obvious to anyone who wasn't watching for discomfort, but Gil was. Now, even though Nick would still cast a wary glance toward the live specimens now and then, he kept his mind on whatever subject they were discussing.

Nick's first week back had been deceptively easy, so much so that Gil--and Nick himself--began to relax. Then Gil began noticing little problems that Nick had to deal with on a daily basis. Many things that Gil thought would cause problems hadn't, but the reverse was also true--and most of the time he couldn't figure out why Nick's breath suddenly hitched or he began reciting something under his breath. Either way, nothing had interfered with Nick's work until last night, and that was what Gil had reluctantly decided to discuss with Nick.

He still wasn't certain that bringing it up again was the best idea, because Nick went right back to work and did his job, but the memory of that sudden, blank look in the dark eyes and the shudders that wracked Nick's body for a time meant that it couldn't be ignored. Gil realized Nick was watching him curiously and knew he couldn't put it off any longer. "Nick, I wanted to discuss your shift with you."

Nick blinked, "Which shift?"

"Graveyard. I'm wondering if you wouldn't do better on days. It never occurred to me before, but perhaps working in darkness most of the time and--" Gil stopped when he saw Nick had turned a sickly color. "Nick?"

"This is about what happened last night," Nick voice was low.

Gil noted that Nick's voice sounded odd, but didn't know what to make of it. "Partly," he admitted. "But--"

"Gris, don't do this, please..."

"Nicky..." Gil realized belatedly that he'd made a horrible mistake. Nick's trembling was worse now than it had been the night before. All he could think was that Nick would hate anyone seeing this, so he quickly got up and closed the door, then came back to sit on the edge of his desk, cursing himself the entire time.

"I'm sorry about last n-night," Nick whispered. "I'll try harder not to--to...I can do my job, Gris...I swear I c-can..."

"Nicky, don't," Gil wondered briefly if Warrick was anywhere in the building, but reminded himself firmly that he'd been there when Nick had gotten through an attack before, and should be able to handle it this time. "I'm sorry I mentioned it, Nick, and it's not a reflection of your work. I just thought you might feel more comfortable during daylight hours."

Biting his lip, Nick only shook his head.

"Okay. But, Nick, I have to know what happened. Was it the spotlight? The headlights?"

Nick took several slow deep breaths. "It's n-not the spotlights or the d-dark. I expect those things and if I expect th-them I can deal...it was--Jesus, Gris, it's stupid because it was such a little thing..."

"It's not stupid if it got to you like this, Nicky." Gil was relieved to see Nick regaining control, although his breathing was shallow and his eyes suspiciously bright.

"Okay..." Another deep breath that Nick released slowly. "Y'know the uniform on the scene? Reese?"

"Yeah."

"He's not used to working with us, he doesn't really know us by name. So when he came up he said, ‘Hi, CSI guys.' Remember?"

Gil tilted his head to the side. "Vaguely."

"That's it," Nick said, reddening slightly.

"That's it?"

"The cassette player Gordon left with me in the--that's how it started. ‘Hi, CSI guy.' I--I can still hear it sometimes." A violent shudder ran through Nick's entire body. "Reese was being friendly, but the way he said it just--"

"There's no way to predict that."

"When I can predict them, I handle them better," Nick said earnestly. "And--"

Gil held up a hand to stop him. "Forget I mentioned it, Nicky. Although I'm sure Catherine would be thrilled to have you on her team again. If you're content to stay on graveyard, then that suits me perfectly."

Nick's relief was obvious and his eyes grew damp again. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I ever brought it up, Nicky," Gil said sincerely, reminded again just how bad he could be with people.

That was something he used to leave to Nick when they worked together, but that was one part of the job that Nick no longer excelled at. Whether Nick couldn't or didn't want to connect with the people they spoke to, Gil didn't know, but the implications of it still frightened him.

* * *

Al Robbins had never known Nick Stokes to have any problems dealing with autopsies, bodies or the morgue as a whole. Nick's usual reaction was sorrow rather than disgust or fright. When Nick was edgy during his first autopsy after his return, Robbins worried briefly, but since then, Nick had attended two more autopsies without problems.

That's why when he slid a body back into the cooler and turned around, he was shocked to find Nick staring at the wall of square doors, his expression a mixture of horror and fascination.

"Nick?" Robbins moved closer and was alarmed to find Nick trembling. "Nick?" a little more forcefully.

"I never...those are bigger than the one I was in," Nick could have been commenting on the weather.

Robbins glanced over his shoulder, then back at Nick, and realized with a sick feeling that by pure fluke all of the other autopsies Nick had attended had been in the secondary bay. "Nick, sit down," he nudged the younger man to a chair.

Nick dropped into the chair as instructed, and closed his eyes tightly. He began murmuring something under his breath.

Unable to make out what he was saying, Robbins reached for the phone, "Do you want me to get Gil, Nick?"

Still muttering, Nick shook his head frantically.

Instinct told Robbins to just wait it out and let Nick decide the next move.

After several minutes, Nick raised his head. His breathing was still a bit labored as he shot Robbins an apologetic look. "Sorry. Sorry, Doc."

"Don't worry, Nick," Robbins shook his head. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine," Nick said, keeping his eyes averted from the cooler wall. "I just--sorry."

"You haven't attended an autopsy in the main bay since coming back."

"Yeah," Nick's voice was still slightly hollow. "I don't...uh, I think I'm going to have to skip today's...I mean..."

"That's fine," Robbins spoke to Nick as he would one of his own. "I'll just send up my report when I've finished. But maybe you should just sit there for a few more minutes."

Nick nodded, closing his eyes again. "Didn't know you could have a flashback to something that didn't happen."

"Neither did I," Robbins raised his eyebrows.

Nick glanced at him, then looked away. "I'd rather not go into it, Doc."

"All right," Robbins agreed readily. "Can I ask what you were saying, though, or does that have something to do with it?"

"Oh, that. Sure," Nick smiled slightly. "Sometimes, if breathing exercises don't work, I have to do something else to...distract myself from whatever triggers the attack. I pick a subject, then do the alphabet."

Robbins expression remained quizzical.

"Countries," Nick said as an example. "Albania, Belgium, Canada...or cities, or animals."

"What a brilliant idea--I'd never heard of that before. What were you doing?"

Nick laughed at the ME's obvious fascination. "Birds."

* * *

Sofia looked up at the sound of soft knocking and smiled at the man in her doorway. "Hello, Nick."

"You paged me?" Nick sounded bewildered.

Sofia wasn't surprised, even when they had both been on Grissom's team, they had rarely worked together. "Come in and sit down. Grissom is in court and told me to contact you about this case when I reached my decision."

"Oh. Sure," Nick gave her a smile as he sat down.

"Does anything in there look familiar to you?" she asked as she handed him a folder.

Nick paged through the jacket, his expression darkening as he went. "It looks similar to some home invasions we worked nearly two years ago. It escalated to include assault and murder." His lips thinned, "We never did get enough for an indictment." His eyes flicked to the date, then he looked up at Sofia, "This is just last month."

Sofia nodded.

"What's his name...Johnson? No, Jansson. He went away on a completely different charge--possession, I think." Nick met her eyes again. "He's out and they've teamed up again."

She gave him a tight smile. "That's the way it's looking. I'm sure you've heard that people from different shifts have been teaming up to work crossover cases."

"And you want us to work with," he glanced down at the file. "Lee Travis."

Nick barely skipped a beat when he said the name, but Sofia could tell he wasn't thrilled with the idea of working with Travis. She didn't really blame him. "Actually, Lee seems to have some leftover animosity toward graveyard from when he was on days. He's refused to work the case with you."

"Oh." Nick hesitated, "You...want our files?"

"No. I pulled him off the case and I'm handing it over to you and Grissom."

"Oh."

"I wish it could be otherwise, but Travis isn't willing to cooperate. He loses the case." Sofia didn't tell Nick everything Travis had to say about that. After having been Conrad Ecklie's top yes-man on day shift for years, Travis had always assumed he'd be moving up at Ecklie's side. Being moved from days to swing shift had infuriated him, as had the new tolerance between Ecklie and Grissom's team. Adding to that Travis' feeling that Nick had been getting special treatment since his return and his refusal wasn't much of a surprise.

Nick had finished going through the file again, "Okay. Um...how often do you want to be updated?"

"Not necessary," Sofia smiled. "Since the case is now graveyard's. But if you would keep me in the loop, I'd appreciate it."

"Will do," Nick said as he stood up. "I'll let Grissom know." He gave her a small salute with the folder and left her office.

Sofia wondered briefly if she should have warned him to watch his back around Travis, but decided it wasn't necessary. Travis was right about one thing--Nick had received special treatment since his return. Sofia would even agree with Travis' complaint that Stokes always received special treatment, but she hadn't bothered pointing out that it was only because he was such a favorite with nearly every tech in the lab--especially compared to Travis.

Hopefully, his friends in the lab would be watching Nick's back for him.

* * *

David Hodges was on his way to the break room for a cup of coffee when he heard angry voices emanating from one of the evidence labs. He paused just outside the door to find out whether the fight was anything interesting or amusing.

"--not our fault the case got pulled out from under you." That was Nick, sounding more upset than David had heard him in the nearly three weeks since his return. "You're the one who refused to work with--"

"Hey, you think I want to work with someone in Sam Braun's pocket?" And that would be Lee Travis, the cold son of a bitch that even David thought was too much of a slimy, brown-nosing weasel. And David knew that if he thought someone was too smarmy, they were off the chart.

Nick had gone silent for several seconds, then with utter disbelief. "What did you say?"

"How you paying back that ransom, Nicky?" Travis' voice took on a distinctly oily quality. "Didn't know Braun was into pretty boys."

Oh, hell. David gritted his teeth. There had been rumors upon rumors floating around about where the ransom money had come from. No one in the lab had believed the "anonymous donor" story, and Sam Braun was on the top of the list. David had no idea how Braun got there, but he doubted it was because of any tie to Nick Stokes.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Nick's voice was angry but also held a note of uncertainty.

"You must really be something for old Sam to shell out a million bucks."

David waited for Nick to say something suitably rude back to Travis, then remembered that Nick Stokes didn't have much of a mean streak on his best day and these were far from his best days. So instead he arranged his expression into one of irritation and strolled into the room. "Did you turn your pager off or something?" he asked Nick.

Nick blinked at him, his face pale, his eyes wide and haunted. "Wh-what?"

"I've been paging you with the results of those samples you sent me."

Nick's blank look wasn't all that surprising, considering he'd done no such thing.

Much to David's delight, Travis rounded on him, "What about those fibers and paint chips I sent you three hours ago?"

"I'm sorry?" David asked, in a bored tone.

"I sent Young to you with nearly a dozen samples."

David shook his head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Goddamn rookie," Travis snarled, storming out of the lab to hunt down the unfortunate Erin Young.

"I didn't send you any samples," Nick said, still looking lost.

"I know," David shrugged. "I've been working on fibers and paint chips for the past couple of hours."

Nick's laugh was a bit watery.

Feeling completely out of his element, David nonetheless moved closer to Nick, unable to help his concern. "You all right?"

"Do you--David, do you know what he was talking about?"

"Office gossip," David said dismissively.

"About...I heard there was a ransom, but--" Nick swallowed hard. "What's this about Sam Braun?"

"Nothing," David said, but alarm bells were starting to ring. "The ransom was donated anonymously, but people talk."

Nick was shaking his head, "There...there must be a report about this somewhere. I've got to know what happened. God, I should have--where's the feed?"

The alarm turned into a full-blown klaxon. "Ahhh...no. I don't think that's a good idea."

Moving away from the table and into a corner, Nick kept shaking his head. "I was wondering why some people hadn't stopped staring by now."

"You know--" David began, and was dismayed to find that he couldn't think of anything. Even worse, Nick had begun to shake slightly.

"How did Sam Braun get into this?" Nick whispered, his eyes wide and scared. "Please don't tell me he's got something one the lab because of this."

"Uh..." Looking behind him in the hopes that someone would arrive to assist, David tried to think of something helpful to say. "You know I don't bother with gossip."

That worked--more or less. It got another shaky laugh out of Nick, anyway.

"Look," David put a cautious hand on Nick's shoulder. "You're better off talking to Grissom about this."

Nick's eyes were full as he nodded his agreement. "Jesus, I can't go back out there like this."

David peered through the doorway again. "Hallway's empty right now. Make a break for it." When Nick still looked doubtful, David took him by the arm and urged him forward. "Let's go. Get to Grissom's office and you can page him from there." David kept one hand on Nick's back and nudged him quickly down the hallway. "Someone really should be playing the Mission Impossible theme."

Fortunately, Grissom was in his office, looking very surprised when David gave Nick a shove inside. Closing the door behind them, David started back up the hallway and ran straight into a very angry looking Warrick Brown.

Oh, hell.

Warrick saw Hodges guiding Nick to Grissom's office through the glass maze of the lab, but before he got close enough to speak, Nick was inside and Grissom's door was closed. One thing he did know was that was not the way two colleagues walked down a hallway. He successfully blocked Hodges' path back to the trace lab, demanding, "What the hell is going on?"

"I left Nick in Grissom's office," Hodges said with a very put-upon sigh. "He's...upset."

"What did you do?"

"I knocked him down and stole his lunch money." Hodges rolled his eyes when Warrick's angry expression didn't change. "I didn't do anything to him."

"In there," Warrick pointed to an empty lab. "I want to talk to you."

If the prospect of being alone in a room with an angry Warrick Brown bothered Hodges in the least, he didn't show it. He looked as bored as ever.

That pissed Warrick off. "What's with you hanging around after Nick so much, huh?"

Although shorter than Warrick, Hodges had this trick of tilting his head back so he could look down his nose at people and he employed that trick now. "Has Nick been complaining?"

Warrick's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Hodges was immune. "No, he hasn't, and you know why? Because I don't treat the guy like spun glass. I treat him just the same as I did before this disaster."

"Yeah, well. You never did treat him the same way you did everyone else, did you? What's your game anyway?"

"Actually, I did treat him like everyone else. At first, anyway," Hodges looked faintly amused. "Even though he tried to give it back like everyone else did, he never could. He's just a nice guy by nature, and even I have a hard time being rude to someone consistently friendly."

Warrick was still glowering, "That's it? That's all there is to it?"

The grey eyes glinted, "That's it. Why? What did you think was going on?" When Warrick suddenly turned mute, Hodges looked smug. "Even if I was into guys--which I'm not," he noted Warrick's look. "Yeah, I know--I get that a lot. Anyway, if I was interested in Nick, you think I'd admit to you when you've got a gun on your hip?" He shrugged, "I don't know why you think I'm a problem for Nick, but contrary to popular belief, I don't kick puppies and I don't pull the wings off butterflies."

"So what happened?"

Hodges shook his head and turned to go. "Ask Nick. No way am I getting in the middle of this."

* * *

Nick sat in the passenger seat, unmoving, staring blankly out the window. He hadn't said a word since they'd left Grissom's office, but his opinion about being sent home for the rest of the shift was perfectly clear. Warrick could see his point, to a certain extent. Grissom said that Nick had been shaking when Hodges unceremoniously shoved him into his office, and looked on the verge of a panic attack, but when Warrick saw him, Nick was dry-eyed and steady. His tight expression said he was definitely upset about something, though.

Warrick supposed it was to be expected. Nick hadn't exactly breezed through the past three weeks, but he'd handled every trigger so far--some more easily than others--without having to leave in the middle of a shift. He would talk about it when he and Warrick were settled comfortably on either's sofa, and that was usually enough to guarantee that even if he didn't quite put any given trigger behind him, at least he would be able to deal with it more easily.

During the past three weeks, Warrick had been able to find something of a balance for his own emotions as well. Although sometimes the only way he was able to contain those darker emotions was to distance himself from Nick, and although when that happened Nick would give him a silent, searching look, overall Warrick was satisfied that he had everything under control.

Until tonight, anyway.

He was still determined to find out what Hodges had said or done, but now wasn't time. "Hey, it's not like he sent you home in the middle of your shift," Warrick said as he turned onto Charleston Boulevard. "We're just going home a couple of hours early. If you think it's that big a deal, just go in a couple hours early tonight."

Nick slanted him a look that said Warrick wasn't fooling anyone, and got out of the jeep almost before Warrick had finished parking in the driveway. By the time Warrick turn the jeep off and walked into the townhouse, Nick had a beer out and had downed a good portion of it while he paced the length of his great room.

"You going to tell me what's going on?" Warrick asked as he dropped his keys on the counter.

Nick took another swig of beer, but didn't answer.

"C'mon, Nicky," Warrick said. "What did Hodges do? Was it something he said?"

"Hodges didn't do anything--not to me anyway," Nick wouldn't look at Warrick.

"Not to you? Tell me what's going on, here."

Nick stopped and faced Warrick suddenly, "Sure. And maybe you could do the same–God knows Grissom wouldn't."

Warrick realized with a vague sense of shock that Nick wasn't upset, he was pissed. Warrick hadn't actually seen Nick angry since he'd been taken out of the ground, and he wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not. "What do you want to know, Nick?"

"The ransom," Nick bit out. "Where did it come from?"

Uh-oh. "Uh...an anonymous donor gave--"

The dark eyes widened, then narrowed. "Rick, don't start lying to me now. If the donor was anonymous, there wouldn't be names floating around the lab."

"What names?" Warrick asked, because he'd heard more than one. "What's going around the lab?"

"That it came from Sam Braun. Than I'm somehow in his pocket," Nick twitched slightly. "That's the watered down version, anyway."

Fuck. "Who the hell told you that?"

Nick expression grew tighter when he didn't get an immediate denial. "Is it true? Where did the money come from?"

Warrick sighed. Catherine's relationship with Sam Braun wasn't exactly common knowledge, but both Warrick and Nick had heard about it not long after Catherine found out. "I'll tell you about the ransom, but first tell me what Hodges said."

After another sip of beer, Nick shrugged, "He told me not to pay attention to office gossip."

"Then who brought up Braun in the first place?"

Some of Nick's anger seemed to leave him, and he shot Warrick a wary look. "Lee Travis was pissed off about his case being pulled out from under him. He made a few comments about Braun, the ransom and how I'm paying it back." He shook his head when Warrick's lips curled into a snarl. "Forget Travis. I want to know what's going on."

Warrick was tempted to go straight back to the lab, for two reasons. The first was to get his hands on Travis' neck, and the second was to avoid Nick's demands for the truth. But really, in a contest between Lee Travis and Nick Stokes, there was no contest. He took a deep breath, "When the city refused to put up the ransom, Catherine went to Braun for the money."

Nick's color drained from his face, making his eyes seem larger and darker. He set his beer down with a shaky hand. "I never thought Cath...oh Jesus. I thought the lab--I thought maybe from the evidence vault. Oh my god...Cath. She's been trying to keep her distance from...good God."

"Nicky, don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Nick's voice rose. "Jesus, Warrick! Cath is...my god, Braun...what if...oh God, I've got to talk to her..."

Nick started for the door, but Warrick was right behind him and caught him around the waist. "Don't, Nicky. Only the old graveyard shift and Brass know about this, and we all swore not to say another word about it. It's an anonymous donor, Nick. Get that through your head. There's been other names besides Braun's before this, so if you just drop it, it'll pass."

"But Catherine...I can't let her--"

"She did what any one of us would have done, Nick," Warrick tightened his grip.

"Oh God," Nick leaned back against Warrick, his strength gone along with his anger. "But what if...what if..."

"Cath can handle it, Nicky. She insisted it was over and done the minute she brought Gris the money. C'mon, you think she doesn't know what she's doing?"

"But...I can't just..."

"Babe, you won't be doing her any favors by bringing it up."

"Damn it..." Nick whispered, sounding defeated.

"She'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Nick was silent for several minutes while Warrick just held him, then--"What else don't I know?"

Even though Nick didn't sound angry or upset, the question still set Warrick on edge. "What do you mean?"

"There's a report about all this, right? There's got to be."

"Yeah..." Warrick said reluctantly.

"I want to see it," Nick gently loosened Warrick's arm and stepped away to face him. "I probably should have read it before this, then I wouldn't have all these surprises."

"Braun's name isn't in the report," Warrick pointed out.

"No," Nick said firmly. "But there's probably other stuff I don't know about that will keep popping up. I want the whole report and...yeah. I want to see the feed."

"Like hell."

Nick's jaw jutted slightly.

"Maybe the report," Warrick conceded. "But Christ, Nicky, there's no reason for you to see that feed." Warrick didn't add that the thought of seeing it again made his own stomach clench painfully. "The feed is you. There's nothing there you don't already know. It can't be good for you to see it again."

"Oh, come on, Rick!" Nick insisted, "If it was you, wouldn't you want to see it?"

If it was you...Game, set and match, with just four little words. Warrick held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, Nicky, if that's what you want."

Nick blinked, obviously surprised that Warrick had given in so easily. "Right. I mean, really, wouldn't you want to know?"

To his dismay, Warrick suddenly found himself unable to look Nick in the eye. "What I want doesn't matter Nick. This is all you."

"Warrick..." Nick's voice softened. "Rick, don't be like that. I mean, I do want to know what you think, and--"

"Nicky, I'm not trying to pull anything here," Warrick assured him with a sorry attempt at a smile. "I mean it. I've got no right to be saying anything about this."

"But you're acting like...oh no," Nick sighed. "Oh God, Rick, please don't tell me you still feel guilty about that coin toss."

"I don't feel guilty about the coin toss," Warrick said easily.

"Well, there's still something," Nick persisted. "You look--"

"Hey, this isn't about me." For Christ's sake, just drop it, Nicky.

"Warrick, I'm just asking what you--"

"I can't say what I'd do if it had been me!" Warrick glared at him. "If it had been me we wouldn't be having this goddamn conversation at all, okay?! None of this would be happening!"

"Oh." Nick drew back slightly, and Warrick couldn't tell if he was more hurt or offended. "Really."

"I never would have made it out of there, Nicky."

"What? Oh, come on, Rick," Nick's smile was one of disbelief.

"You think I like knowing that?"

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do. And it's not fun, okay?" And before Warrick could stop them, the words were tumbling out. "Nicky, do you have any idea how scary it's been trying to help you after finding out you're actually--"

"Actually what?" Nick looked slightly alarmed.

"So much stronger than I gave you credit for. I'm sorry, Nicky, but when it happened I never thought you were tough enough to pull yourself through. And that's a lousy thing to think about someone you love, but I always--and Jesus, you were so amazing in there. And I've been trying to help you through this without smothering you, but it's fuckin' hard because..." Warrick trailed of when he realized Nick was staring at him in bemusement.

"You just insulted me, told me you loved me, and complimented me all in the same breath," Nick smiled when Warrick gaped at him. "That's smooth, Rick. No wonder I'm crazy about you."

Warrick clenched his hands into fists to keep from grabbing Nick and shaking him. "Didn't you hear a word I said?"

"Sure I did," Nick stepped closer, his eyes searching Warrick's face. "Especially the part about loving me."

"Nick..." Warrick gave in to temptation. Worry, jealously, fear, lust and love all crashed together in a frightening maelstrom that left him reeling. He wanted to–-had to--overwhelm Nick the way Nick continued to overwhelm him without even knowing it. He wrapped one hand around Nick's neck and pulled the shorter man against him, crushing the parted lips beneath his own.

After a small, startled sound, Nick eagerly slid his hands to Warrick's waist and under his shirt. Warrick broke away long enough to pull Nick's shirt off and obliged when Nick indicated he wanted to do the same, then he concentrated on touching, kissing and biting as much of Nick's skin as he could.

Nick gasped and moaned, clutching any part of the frenzied man he could hold onto. "Rick...oh my god, Rick..."

Some part of Warrick's brain managed to register that what they needed was in the bedroom. He bore Nick back in that direction so rapidly that Nick nearly lost his balance several times and wrapped his arms tightly around Warrick's neck to remain upright. He tumbled Nick back onto the bed, falling on top of him and taking a hardened nipple between his teeth. Nick tangled his fingers in Warrick's hair, making small whimpering noises of pleasure.

Warrick fumbled with Nick's belt and fly, then tugged Nick's chinos down to his knees, and wrapped his fingers around Nick's erection. He bit down on the nipple, making Nick yelp at the same time as he tried to buck his hips. "I want to fuck you so bad, Nicky," he growled, skimming his teeth over Nick's abs.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Nick panted.

Warrick stripped off his pants in record time and put the condom on with shaking fingers. Nick had kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and Warrick only took the time to loosen Nick with a single finger, before positioning himself at the tight opening.

Drawing his legs up, Nick let out a gasp at the burning sensation as Warrick thrust into him. It subsided almost as soon as it started, and Nick wrapped his legs around Warrick's waist.

"Fuck..." Warrick almost pulled out completely before thrusting in again. "Fuck, Nicky, you're so tight..."

"Come on, Rick," Nick tightened his legs, drawing Warrick even closer. "Warrick..."

Warrick rode him hard, but kept one hand on Nick's cock, stroking him to completion. Nick was beyond speech as he alternately clutched at Warrick or the sheets beneath him, but the sounds he made encouraged Warrick go even faster. Warrick felt the tremors in Nick's body before he felt the warmth on his hand and stomach. Driving in as far as he could, Warrick stayed there, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into the shaking body beneath him.

It took several minutes for Warrick to realize what had happened, and when he did, he eased out of Nick and removed the condom with hands that shook just as badly as when he'd put it on.

Nick let his legs fall and threw one arm over his pillow with a deep sigh.

"Nick?"

"Mmmm?"

"Are you okay?" Warrick asked, not certain he wanted an answer.

Nick was quiet for several minutes, which made Warrick's heart clench with fear. "Why do you always ask me that?"

Unable to think of an answer, Warrick lay down, not touching Nick.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked.

Warrick closed his eyes.

"Rick?" Cautiously, Nick moved closer.

"I got a little carried away."

"I noticed."

Warrick opened his eyes. He thought he could hear the grin in Nick's voice and had to check. Sure enough, Nick was smiling at him, although there were still traces of concern in his eyes. His emotions still too tangled to sort this out, Warrick pulled Nick close, letting out a sigh of relief when Nick snuggled in happily. Nick was stroking his side gently, and Warrick was almost asleep when it occurred to him that they hadn't actually settled anything. "What are you going to do, Nicky?"

"About what?" Nick asked, still running a soothing hand over Warrick's ribs.

"About the feed. The report. Travis."

"And the ransom," Nick finished thoughtfully. "Well--"

"Not the ransom. There's nothing to be done about the ransom, Nick."

Nick sighed, obviously upset with the idea of letting it go, but he didn't mention it again. "There's nothing to be done about Travis, either. Why would I bother? About the report and the feed...I still don't know."

"Maybe just--I can't believe I'm saying this--talk to Kane before doing anything."

Nick struggled to sit up. "Shit! I have a session today. What time is it?" He glanced at the clock and slumped back down against Warrick. "Lots of time yet. Yeah, I'll talk to him about it. No way in hell Gris would let me get my hands on the report without an okay from Phillip, anyway."

Warrick was trying to find the right words to ask Nick the dozens of questions he wanted answered, but after several minutes, he heard Nick's drowsy voice again.

"Could you set the alarm, Rick? We should get some sleep."

Still too confused-–and admit it, freaked--to do anything else, Warrick complied.

Warrick was glad he let Nick talk him in to going in a couple of hours early the next day, otherwise they would have missed seeing Lee Travis finding out that a rookie had cracked his "priority case" without him. Nick had decided to take the high road with Travis, and Warrick reluctantly went along, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy seeing him speechless with anger and frustration.

After what he called Erin Young's "moronic incompetence" at not leaving the trace with Hodges in enough time to catch Detective Wolf on his way to Lake Mead, Travis refused to continue working the case with her. Erin had been understandably upset, because she had left the trace with Hodges, but Travis wouldn't listen. He threatened to write up a report as soon as he returned from the crime scene in Pahrump where he had to collect more trace, if possible. No sooner had he left when, lo and behold, Hodges miraculously found the trace results and sent Erin on her way to meet Detective Wolf and bring in the collar.

Nick and Warrick arrived just in time for to see the DA turn over the report to Ecklie and suggest that Erin be listed as the primary for court. Travis arrived a few minutes after them, and stood in furious silence when Ecklie agreed, shooting Travis a quelling look as he did so.

High road be damned. As Travis walked past him on the way Sofia's office, Warrick couldn't resist. "Hey, I thought you were working that case, Lee."

"Go to hell, Brown," Travis hissed without breaking stride.

Warrick chuckled and glanced over at Nick, who was trying to look impartial without much success. "Nice work, Erin," Warrick said to the rookie, who still looked a little surprised at this turn of events.

David Hodges, of course, watched the whole thing with a bored expression.

"I'm gonna see if I can track down Grissom," Nick's lips were still twitching with amusement.

"Okay, catch you later," Warrick said, heading for the locker room. He was glad to see Nick's mood improving because it had been fluctuating between worry and anger since the session with Kane that afternoon.

In the hopes of getting a jump on the situation, Nick gave Kane his permission to call Grissom and discuss the report and feed with him. Kane had agreed that Nick should have a copy of the report if he wanted it, but like Warrick, he didn't see the point of Nick reliving the feed. Nick wasn't happy about that, but hadn't brought it up again.

Since he wasn't rooting for Nick in this particular battle, Warrick kept his mouth shut.

He wanted to know the results though, so Warrick grabbed a stack of his case files and went to the break room to catch up on his reports. He settled at the table, sitting at an angle that would allow him to see Nick when he left Grissom's office, and forced himself to concentrate on paperwork.

It was forty-five minutes before Nick emerged from Grissom's office and joined Warrick at the table with his own handful of case files.

"So?"

"So?" Nick flipped a file open and started reading.

"C'mon, man," Warrick frowned.

Nick smiled slightly and looked up. "Well, Gris didn't seem too happy about it, but he agreed to get me a copy of the report. I'm going to wait until my night off to read it though--just in case."

"You tellin' me you aren't going to look at it the minute you get it?" Warrick said doubtfully.

"I know it's hard to believe," Nick nodded his understanding. "But part of me still doesn't want to see it," he held up his hand when Warrick opened his mouth. "I have to see it, though, Rick. I shouldn't have waited this long."

"No way you were ready before."

Nick's eyebrows shot up at the certainty in Warrick's tone, then he shrugged. "Probably."

Warrick hated asking the next question, but it was driving him insane. "And the feed?"

"Yeah," Nick's lips tightened. "We haven't finished discussing that yet."

"Uh-huh. Does Gris know that?"

* * *

They wrangled quite a bit about the report before Nick finally convinced Warrick that it was important he read it alone. When Warrick countered that it was a mistake, Nick conceded that it probably was, but that it was his mistake to make. So on Nick's next night off, Warrick got his promise that Nick would call him if things got bad. Nick agreed readily enough, but said he would phone if he had to and he'd rather Warrick didn't call to check on him. Warrick agreed very reluctantly and spent his shift forcing himself to concentrate on the job and praying he didn't end up with overtime, then broke the speed limit getting back to Nick's.

Nick was waiting for him by the door.

He was shaking slightly and for several long minutes just stood with his face buried in Warrick's neck, breathing deeply.

"I started about an hour after you left," Nick said, his voice slightly muffled. "But then I thought I'd better wait until a couple hours before your shift ended."

"I made sure I didn't have overtime tonight," Warrick murmured, holding Nick tightly. "How bad, Nicky?"

"Not...me," Nick pulled back enough to look at Warrick, his eyes only slightly damp. "It was...almost like reading a report on someone else. But I could see it like I was one of you guys. I saw what you had to go through...Grissom...the explosion...and you and Cath and Greg digging up that--the dog...Jesus, Warrick..."

Warrick had to clear his throat several times before he was able to speak, "Yeah, that was...that was rough. But Nick, are you okay? No flashbacks? No triggers?"

"None," Nick's expression hardened. "And believe me, I was expecting them. No, it was...I mean, I knew...but I never realized...he didn't just torture me. The song, the feed...that bastard was fucking with all of us."

As he tightened his embrace, Warrick couldn't help but notice that Nick sounded angrier about that than anything else. "Yeah, he was. But it didn't do him a damn bit of good, did it? He lost on all counts," Warrick was startled to hear the savagery in his own voice.

"Yeah, and we won on a few," Nick said as he pulled Warrick's head down for a hard kiss.

* * *

All things considered, it could have been worse. Three consecutive nights of horrible dreams meant Nick dragged a little at work, but Warrick knew he preferred that to sleeping well and having the report set off another series of jags. When Nick calmed down from each night terror, Warrick would do his best to exhaust him in the hopes of preventing another. Even though that didn't always work, Nick maintained it was his preferred cure.

At work, Nick was regaining more of his old confidence every day and was beginning to grow restless under Grissom's watchful eye. He rarely mentioned it, and Warrick could tell he was trying hard to be patient with the arrangement. Both Sara and Greg seemed to assume it wouldn't be long before Nick was assigned to a case with someone other than Grissom or even alone. Warrick wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that because he had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be him assigned to work with Nick.

After he read the report, Nick didn't mention the feed again for over a week and Warrick hoped he had decided against watching it at all. Then one day at Warrick's, Nick related the argument he'd had with Grissom about getting a copy of the feed. Warrick didn't know what to say. He wanted to back Nick up, but was actually in complete agreement with Grissom on this point. "What did Gris say?" he asked, because that seemed like a safe, neutral question.

"That it was a bad idea," Nick sighed. "That he thinks I should listen to Dr. Kane."

"And Kane thinks it's a bad idea." Warrick hoped this meant the end of it.

"I told Grissom I was getting Archie to burn me a copy."

"What?"

Nick propped himself up on one elbow, "I'm getting a CD of it. I don't want to watch it right now, but whenever I decide to, I don't want this hassle again."

"Can Archie hand over a copy to just anyone like that?"

"Just anyone?" Nick looked at Warrick with an expression that was equal parts amusement and frustration. "It's me. I might double check my rights on that, but it's not an active investigation, and who would it belong to if not the participant?"

"Participant?!" Warrick exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well, I didn't say willing participant," Nick conceded.

"So you're going to..."

"I'm going to put the CD away somewhere at my place. That way it's there whenever I'm ready to see it."

"And you...really think that's the right decision?" Warrick asked carefully.

It didn't work. Nick's jaw still tightened. "I don't know if it's the right decision or not, but it's my decision."

Warrick felt a now-familiar tendril of unease weave through his stomach. He still didn't understand why he kept feeling this way. In his past relationships, he'd always hated it when his partner got clingy, and now it bothered him that Nick wasn't. If that was all there was to it, Warrick could have consoled himself with the fact that whether or not Nick needed him, Nick obviously wanted him, but there was more to it than that.

Whether it was because he'd wanted Nick for so long, whether it was because he was still afraid of losing him, or whether it was because he had so much invested in Nick's well-being, his emotions became more difficult to control each day. More and more often, Warrick was beginning to worry that his emotions--his passion--were moving into dangerous territory. He couldn't say for certain because feelings this deep, this powerful for another person were not something he could remember experiencing before. The only way he was able to control them any more was to shut off everything and he knew Nick noticed that, even though he had never mentioned it.

"Rick, I know you don't like the idea," Nick trailed his fingers across the furrow in Warrick's brow.

It was just a simple, affectionate touch, the kind Nick was always prone to. There was no reason whatsoever for Warrick to feel such a surge of emotion so strong that he had to hold himself tense to keep from reacting to it.

There was no way Nick could not notice. "Should I go, Rick?"

Warrick could hear the extra-casual note in Nick's voice and knew he was trying not to let the hurt seep in. "No," he said and closed his eyes. "I don't want you to go."

"Are you sure? Because it's not a problem. I know--"

"I'm just tired, Nicky."

"Okay," Nick settled back down against his pillow, but was careful not to touch Warrick.

Warrick had to wait much longer than usual for the even breathing that indicated Nick was sleeping peacefully. Only then was he able to sleep as well.

* * *

"This is my fifth visit," Warrick reminded Phillip Kane as he sat down. "I was only required to do four."

"You want to know if I'm going to insist on more?" Kane arched an eyebrow. "Why didn't you bring this up at your last session?"

Warrick shrugged. "I figured what's one more for good measure?"

"Ah. Being extra cooperative, are we?"

"Considering this was always supposed to be about my ability to do my job, I'd say I've been cooperative enough." Warrick lifted his chin as though to take a hit, "So whatever other issues you think I have--do you believe I'm capable of doing my job?"

"You want me to sign you off," Kane said neutrally.

"Do you think I'm capable of doing my job?" Warrick repeated.

Kane sighed. "We both know you are. That was never the point."

"Really? I thought that was the only point."

Although he was obviously unwilling to sign Warrick off, Kane was even more unwillingly to lie. "I think you have many things you still need to work through--for Nick's sake as well as yours. But no, I have no reason to require more sessions of you for your job's sake." He flipped open Warrick's file and signed one paper, then made several notes on the page beneath it before handing the top one over to Warrick.

Standing and taking the letter, Warrick managed to refrain from grinning triumphantly. "I really do appreciate everything you've done, Phillip. Especially for Nick," that last part, at least, was sincere.

"Just one more thing before you go," Phillip requested.

Some of Warrick's jubilant mood faded, but he nodded.

"I don't think you need to protect Nick as much as you're trying to."

"I know that," Warrick nodded. "I'm working on it. But I know I can't protect him from everything out there."

Kane shook his head, "I meant from you, Warrick."

* * *

Warrick did not have--never had, really--a problem with Greg Sanders. He'd been a little leery about the entertaining lab rat becoming a CSI, but was surprised and pleased at how well Greg had eventually settled into it. All the angry words he and Greg had directed at one another during their hunt for Nick had been based on nothing more than frustration and he thought Greg understood that. Certainly during the first month of Nick's recovery, Greg had related to Warrick the same as always and had seemed genuinely glad to team up with him again on cases. It had been only in the last few weeks that Warrick could feel Greg's gaze on him when thought Warrick wouldn't notice.

Like now.

Warrick knew he was already edgy from Kane's last words to him the day before plus the fact that Nick seemed to be holding himself more distant, and he didn't want to sound paranoid, but Greg's quick, curious glances were getting on his last nerve. "Something on your mind, Greg?" Warrick asked without taking his eyes off the road.

He knew he'd startled Greg, because the younger man abruptly turned to look out the window before replying. "Do you know...I mean, is there any rule about dating a co-worker?"

Hoping against hope that Greg was thinking of making a play for Sara, Warrick countered. "Why do you ask?"

"You..." Greg took a deep breath. "You and Nick."

The words didn't come as a great surprise, but Warrick still found himself unable to reply.

"I mean, just since everything that happened, right?"

"Just over a month," Warrick admitted reluctantly. "Is it making the rounds?"

"What?" Greg sounded baffled. "Oh. No, not that I've heard."

"Who else knows?"

"If I thought anyone else knew, do you think I'd be asking you?" Greg's honesty surprised a chuckle out of Warrick.

"Well, if anyone else knows, no one's had the nerve to bring it up."

"I didn't know Nick was into guys," Greg admitted. "I mean when I first met him, I thought maybe, but after that...what? He only realized it after all this happened?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. He knew, but just never...did anything about it."

"Knew about you, though."

Warrick could tell that Greg was dying for him to demand how, when, why, but he decided not to let the kid have the satisfaction. "I don't advertise, but it's not exactly a deep dark secret, either," he said, sounding unconcerned.

Greg was not to be deterred. "We have some mutual acquaintances."

It was more difficult not to react to that, but Warrick managed. "I'm not surprised," he said, even though he was--a little.

With a snort, Greg gave up and went back to his original inquiry. "So how serious are you guys? You're going to have to tell people at some point, aren't you?"

"If and when we tell anyone is up to Nick," Warrick said firmly, relieved that they'd arrived at their scene. A DB out in the desert hadn't seemed like a big deal when Grissom assigned it, but now it meant he'd have another interrogation from the Question Man on the way back.

"Why is it up to Nick?" Greg continued as he joined Warrick at the back of the vehicle to get his kit. "Don't you have any say in the matter?"

"Of course I do. And I say that I'm gonna handle it any way Nick wants to." Warrick's tone indicated the subject was closed.

Even the Question Man knew not to mess with that, and Greg turned his attention to their scene.

His case with Greg turned out to be a suicide they wrapped up in a couple of hours and Warrick was able to get back to some of his other cases. One case he began the night before, a male DB found a few blocks off the Strip, was shot eleven times in as bad a case of overkill as Warrick had ever seen.

Jacqui and Sara had tied up the print lab the night before, but when he went in tonight, Jacqui had an ID on his vic. Warrick headed for ballistics next and while he was waiting for the casings to run through IBIS, Grissom stopped by to check on the suicide.

"I left Greg to finish it up," Warrick told his supervisor.

"Ah, the joys of seniority," Gil observed dryly. Then his eye fell on the AFIS report next to Warrick's hand. "Why are you investigating Travis Ballard? He's our suspect."

Warrick didn't remove his eyes from the IBIS scan, "This is my vic from last night."

"He's dead?"

"Oh, yeah." Warrick frowned when IBIS gave him a no results signal. "Damn."

"Nick and I got a call this morning. Found a woman beaten to death in her home--this address."

Bobby looked up from the comparison scope. "Warrick, I can confirm that all your bullets are from the same gun. Forty-five caliber."

"Okay. Thanks, Bobby." Warrick looked at Grissom. "So the husband was shot to death last night and the wife is beaten to death this morning."

"Either a remarkable coincidence or we're working on the same case," Grissom replied. "Since the latter is more likely, I'll get Nick and we can compare notes."

Warrick agreed readily, but he couldn't help feeling apprehensive when he joined Grissom in the conference room. He was certain Kane would have spoken to Grissom about his last session, so he wanted to seem as cool as possible about working with Nick again, just in case Grissom was observing. He also didn't want to increase the drama that had somehow worked its way into his relationship with Nick, so he held himself firmly in check.

Nick only managed a tentative smile in the face of Warrick's stoic expression, and didn't say much. If Grissom noticed the absence of their old banter, he gave no sign of it. All of his attention was focused on the files in front of him. "Okay, Warrick, your vic was killed first, so what have you got?"

"Very little, but now that I have an ID, I should make more progress. Travis Ballard, shot eleven times with a forty-five--nothing on IBIS. Found near Howard Hughes Parkway by a patrol car. TOD is between seven and nine last night. No sign of robbery--guy still had his watch, a ring, credit cards and a couple hundred cash in his wallet. We just ID'd him a half-hour ago."

"Okay," Grissom nodded. "And we've got Audrey Ballard. Found in her home on Forest Vista. COD blunt force trauma, but the vic was beaten severely, even postmortem. TOD between nine and ten this morning. Body was seen through the window by UPS. No sign of sexual assault, no sign of robbery in the home. So...suspects?"

"So far--none," Nick said. "The seventeen-year-old son...uh, Jeremy--says he went to school at seven-thirty in the morning which puts him out of the time frame. Brass was going to talk to the teachers to check out his story. Where he was last night--well, we had no reason to ask. He said that his father was leaving on business after work."

Grissom was frowning, "Where is the son now?"

"Staying with a friend of the family." Nick sighed, "He doesn't even know his dad is dead."

Grissom's eyebrows rose, "He might. Okay," he glanced over the files again. "Warrick, who's the detective on the husband's case?"

"Vega."

"Okay, let him know what's going on, and start over with new eyes. Nick, call Brass and let him know, then go with him when notifies the son. I'll grab a uniform and go back to the house, you can both meet me there when you're done."

They rose nearly in unison, and left the conference room in silence. Grissom because he was already absorbed in this new aspect of the case, Warrick and Nick because after exchanging wary, uncomfortable looks, neither could think of anything to say.

* * *

As it turned out, Travis Ballard was shot behind his workplace--West Desert Investment. Three hours of processing yielded two dozen finger prints that Warrick knew weren't likely to be very helpful in an office of this size. After arranging to have Ballard's car towed to CSI and agreeing to meet Vega again to interview Ballard's co-workers, Warrick headed back to the lab.

He dropped the new prints off with Jacqui and was heading to the evidence vault when Nick waved to him from an empty computer lab. Warrick went as far as the doorway. "What's up?"

"Did you get Bobby's page?" Nick asked. "We found a gun at the Ballard house registered to the father. Bobby's testing it now."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Rick," Nick's voice stopped him when he'd turned to go, and he reluctantly turned back. "Any luck?"

Since Nick was only discussing the case, Warrick allowed himself to relax a bit. "A couple dozen prints. Nothing else useful, though. I'll definitely be putting in some overtime to print this guy's co-workers."

"Yeah, I'll be with Brass talking to Jeremy's teachers again."

There was a soft knock, and Archie looked into the lab. "Sorry, but...uh...Nick. I've...it's ready whenever you want to pick it up."

Warrick stiffened, but Nick just nodded, "Okay. Thanks, Archie."

Archie took one look at Warrick's face and decided this was not the time to chat. He headed back to the safety of his A/V lab.

"The feed?" Warrick barely got the words out past his gritted teeth.

"Yeah."

"I've got a car to process," Warrick bit out. He left quickly, but not before hearing Nick's heavy sigh.

Warrick was buttoning a clean shirt in preparation to begin his double when a CD case appeared in his line of vision. He glanced over at the man holding it. "What's this?"

Nick frowned, "Come on, Warrick. You know what it is. Take it."

"What?"

"Take it. I don't want this to be a problem between us."

Warrick sat on the bench, even though his fingers itched to take the CD and smash it under his heel.

"Just think about it okay? And if you still think it's important I don't see it, then snap it in half and I won't bother getting another one. Otherwise bring it back to my place when you're done interviewing at West Desert." Nick set the case on the bench next to Warrick.

Warrick stared at the CD as though it was a venomous creature. This was more trust than he was prepared to deal with--ever. "This is gonna be a double shift and then some. I'm just gonna go back to my place to crash after."

Nick paled. "None of this is even about the feed, is it?" he asked softly.

"What is?" Warrick asked, keeping his tone and expression neutral.

"Got it," Nick nodded stiffly. He turned and grabbed his jacket from his locker. "I've got to meet up with Brass. Later."

Once he was alone in the locker room, Warrick allowed himself to slump forward. The CD case was still beside him on the bench and Warrick tried to ignore its presence. Feeling both elated and burdened by the trust Nick constantly demonstrated in him, he was at a loss for ways to reciprocate. Giving the CD back might do it, but God help him, he didn't want Nick to see it. The only thing Warrick knew for certain right now was that he couldn't leave it on the bench. He picked it up, ignoring the ridiculous urge he had to put on a pair of gloves, and brought it with him. Until he reached a decision, he wasn't going to let the thing out of his sight and risk anyone else seeing it.

* * *

Warrick arrived for his shift at his usual time despite the fact that he'd barely gotten any rest since his double. He'd spent more time tossing and turning than actually sleeping. He forcibly ignored the fact that he never had trouble falling asleep when Nick was nestled next to him. Instead, he made himself go over everything he had learned on his last shift so he could fill in Grissom and Brass on his end of the case.

He headed down to Grissom's office and stopped in the doorway when he saw Brass already sitting with Grissom inside. They hadn't noticed him, but their conversation didn't seem private, so Warrick waited quietly for the chance to jump in.

"...sat back and let Nicky do the questioning," Brass was saying, sounding as pleased as he ever got.

A faint smile crossed Grissom's face, "And?"

"And she answered every question he asked. A little sympathy and those big brown eyes and he had her eating out of his hand," Brass chuckled.

Warrick felt his lips twitch involuntarily. It sounded like Nick was regaining more and more confidence all the time. Warrick couldn't count the number of witnesses who had spilled their guts in response to Nick's friendly or sympathetic nature.

"As it turns out, Jeremy is a good student and his teachers know he's got some problems outside of school. So they cut him some slack."

"Such as?"

"A lot of little things, but the ones I was interested in were the tendencies to mark him present even when he's late, and to give him extra credit for work he does before and after school hours."

"And the morning of his mother's murder?" Grissom sat forward.

"He missed his 7:30 Advanced Calculus class and was actually late for his first regular class. Because he'd completed his Calculus work, they let it slide."

"Little lie, big lie?" Grissom mused.

"Well, not about his father's trip," Warrick took that as his cue.

Brass spun in his chair, but Grissom just tilted his head questioningly.

"Travis Ballad was scheduled to catch the red-eye to Atlanta for a convention." He walked in, handing one copy of the report to Brass and dropping the other on Gil's desk. "Obviously, he never made it. According to his co-workers, he wasn't especially friendly, but wasn't one to majorly piss anyone off, either. Aloof was a word that got used a lot. Fingerprints in his office have been matched to his co-workers or clients. One odd thing though, is that I didn't find any luggage when I went over his car."

"His killer took it?"

"Maybe, but he wasn't killed anywhere near his car. He went down in the parking lot next door, and that's where we found him."

"How does this tie in with his wife?" Brass shook his head. "The murders are so different."

"But they're both cases of overkill," Grissom pointed out.

"Major hatred," Brass nodded.

"This is pointing to the kid," Warrick said. "But there's no evidence yet to tie him to it."

"We didn't find blood on anything that could be used as a weapon," Grissom shook his head. "Nick and Archie are going over both computers we brought from the house, maybe something will turn up on one of them."

"The kid's advocate is bringing him to the station this afternoon," Brass said. "What are the chances of Nicky being in on that?"

Grissom arched an eyebrow, "Let me guess--Jeremy was more comfortable talking to Nick."

"Go figger," Brass dead panned. Warrick snorted with amusement.

"He worked overtime yesterday," Grissom frowned. "Technically, he's not supposed to work any for another two weeks."

"So send him home early," Brass said easily. "Split shift." When Grissom remained silent, Brass scowled, "What? In case the kid is guilty?"

"I don't want Nick to..." Grissom shut his lips firmly and shook his head.

"Hey, Nicky knows this kid is a suspect. He knows it as well as any of us. He may not like it, but who does?" Brass sighed. "He can handle it, Gil."

Warrick had to bite his tongue before he started arguing with both men. Grissom because there was every indication that Nick would be able to handle all aspects of his job again, and Brass because Warrick didn't want to find out for certain.

Grissom's expression changed suddenly and when there was a soft knock behind him, Warrick realized why. Nick walked in and immediately stopped, acutely aware that all eyes were on him. "What?"

"Find anything?" Grissom asked.

"Actually, it's what we didn't find," Nick looked around at all three men. "Archie's still going over some of it, but he found e-mail on the father's comp confirming the order of a silencer ten months ago. High end. I'm guessing Ballard was a collector."

"No one heard shots," Warrick pointed out.

"We only found one gun..." Nick began.

"Which didn't match," Warrick added.

Nick nodded his agreement, "But Mrs. Ballard owned a forty-five and two other handguns."

"Huh," Brass tugged the paper from Nick's hand to read it.

"And we didn't find that at the house..." Grissom mused.

"Or this," Nick handed his boss a printed photo.

Warrick walked around to look at the picture as well. It was Jeremy and another boy mock wrestling in a room he recognized as Jeremy's bedroom. "What are we looking for?"

Nick pointed to something in the background, and both Grissom and Warrick focused on the baseball bat propped against the closet door.

"There was no baseball bat anywhere in that house," Grissom glanced up at Nick.

"I know. Absence of evidence is not evidence, technically he could have lent it to a friend or something, but--"

"But it might be enough to rattle the kid's cage," Brass had leaned forward to look as well.

"Good catch, Nicky," Grissom nodded. "Put in a couple more hours at the computer with Archie, then head home."

"Head home?" Nick balked immediately. "Gris, I haven't even been here for two hours. I'm not going to--"

"--put in any overtime for another two weeks," Grissom finished for him. "That's why you're splitting this shift. We'll need you down at PD this afternoon to interview Jeremy with Jim."

"Oh," Nick nodded. He glanced at Brass and nodded again. "All right, then."

Nothing was more fun than watching Nick trying to be cool and professional when he was actually elated. Warrick had always thought so, and judging from their expressions Grissom and Brass did as well.

"I'll get back to the computers, then," Nick said, and glanced once more at Warrick before heading for the door.

"Don't be late," Brass couldn't resist adding.

With the Ballard case well under control, Grissom handed Warrick a burglary. It wasn't the most challenging case, but it kept Warrick occupied for most of the shift. The rest of the night was quiet, for which Warrick was thankful. Although he wouldn't mind more overtime, he wanted to be at the station to see the interview and hopefully wrap up the case.

As he pulled up to his apartment building, any hopes of catching some shut eye vanished when he saw the blue truck parked across the street. Warrick got out of his jeep and stayed where he was while Nick strode over to him.

"We need to settle this," Nick's tone left no room for argument.

Warrick gestured for Nick to follow him up to his apartment. "Want a beer?" he asked once they were inside.

"No," Nick stopped near the sofa while Warrick continued into the kitchen. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought.

Grabbing a beer for himself, Warrick joined Nick in the living room. "Sit?" he gestured toward the sofa.

Nick started to move, then halted himself. "I can't believe you're acting like nothing is wrong."

"Okay. What's on your mind?" Warrick asked, wondering if Nick was also bracing himself for disaster.

"Give it a rest, Warrick," Nick's jaw was set. "Just tell me why you're doing this. Level with me, would you?"

Unable to come up with a suitable reply, Warrick stalled with, "Doing what?"

The dark eyes flashed dangerously. "Pulling away. It was only once in a while at first, but now it's pretty much the brush off and you damn well know it!" Nick's voice rose, "I thought it was because of the feed, but it obviously isn't. For Christ's sake, step up and say it!"

Warrick took a long pull off his beer. If Nick was here to call everything off, he'd be goddamned if he was going to help.

"Do you think I can't handle it? Is that it?"

Caught off guard by the question, Warrick couldn't stop himself from twitching in surprise.

"Yeah, I thought so." Nick voice softened slightly. "Look, Rick, if this...whatever it is...isn't what you expected, then hell, just tell me so." He paused, but when Warrick didn't respond, continued, "You don't have to stay, Warrick. Jesus, you think I want someone who's with me out of some sense of obligation?" His voice thickened slightly, and he had to swallow several times before he could go on, "If it ends now, then maybe...maybe at some point we could go back to the friendship we had."

Warrick felt the room spin slightly. "You...don't want out? You think I want out?"

A heavy silence descended over the apartment, then Nick asked cautiously, "Don't you want out?"

"Jesus, no," Warrick set his beer down before he dropped it.

Nick stared at him, surprise and hope dawning on his face, but suddenly his lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Then what is this? Warrick...God, I never would have figured you for these kinds of head games. If this is what it's like, then yeah, maybe I do want ou--"

"No head games, Nicky, I swear," Warrick felt desperation rising and grabbed Nick's arm. Then just as abruptly he dropped it and backed away. He didn't look at Nick until he felt he was under control. "I would never do that to you. Ever."

"What are you doing, Rick?" Nick pleaded softly. "Because damned if I can figure it out."

"I'm trying..." Warrick searched desperately for the right words. "I am, Nicky, I swear."

"Okay," Nick said, concern having replaced anger. "But what are you trying to do? Trying to keep from getting in too deep? Little late for that, isn't it?"

"I'm trying to make this work!" Warrick insisted.

"You're going about it in a strange way," Nick observed, but didn't sound accusing.

"I'm trying not to hurt you, Nicky!"

"Well, it's not working."

Nick's words may as well have been bullets, and Warrick felt himself reel. He didn't know what expression was on his face, but it was obviously enough to seriously alarm Nick.

"Okay," Nick's voice was a soothing whisper. "Okay, maybe we should sit down."

"I did. I hurt you," Warrick could barely force the words past his painfully tight throat. "I knew it. Oh, God. Nick...baby, I'm so sorry."

"Warrick...hey, it's okay. I've been more confused than hurt, anyway," Nick's voice was low, but reassuring. "Just tell me why you've been so...distant."

Warrick had to hold onto the armrest to center himself. "That's...that's what...that's not what I meant."

"Well, Warrick, you haven't done anything else that comes even remotely close to hurting me." Nick's voice was barely more than a whisper, "You've been my lifeline, Rick, don't you know that?"

"But what about..?" Warrick squeezed his eyes shut, "What about when..? Can't you tell when it's happening?"

"Umm...when what's happening?" Nick asked carefully.

"Jesus, Nick, what is wrong with you?" Warrick pushed himself off the sofa, "Okay, so I've never completely lost it yet, but can't you tell?"

Nick stayed on the sofa and watched as Warrick began pacing the length of his living room. "I guess not. Help me a little."

"Do you remember the first night I tried to stay at my place alone? And then I came back after just a couple of hours?"

"Oh..." Nick frowned briefly, then nodded, one corner of his mouth curling up, "Yeah, I remember."

"It's like when I was gambling," Warrick held his hands out as he tried to explain. "I never mean to go that far, but I always do. Nicky, I've been trying to get a handle on it, but...everything gets so...so goddamn extreme that I think I'm going to lose it..."

"Wait," Nick held up his hand, then got off the couch. "Is this about when everything gets turned up a notch?"

"Yes," Warrick said, relieved they were finally on the same page. "I'm working on it, babe, but right now the only way I can really keep in under control is to step back."

"You get intense."

"Yes."

"And you thought that was a secret?" Nick looked honestly baffled.

Warrick blinked.

"You think everyone in the lab doesn't know when you go all intense on a case, Rick?" Nick asked him. "You think we haven't seen it dozens of times?"

"But--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Nick took one of Warrick's hands and twined their fingers together. "Things get extra intense between us, otherwise the lab would have burned down years ago."

"No, we can't be talking about the same thing..." It can't be this easy, his mind was telling him. Nothing so important can be this easy. "You don't know when it's happening. Not if--"

"Warrick, would you stop telling me what I know?" Nick snapped impatiently. "I know when it's happening. Your eyes get kind of greenish-gold...they make me think of tiger's eyes...and you look at me like you want to eat me alive," a wicked smile passed fleetingly over his lips. "Trust me I know. Scared of something that hot and sexy? No way."

"Uh..." Warrick ducked his head while he tried to think of something to say, then looked up again when he heard a soft chuckle.

"Don't tell me I embarrassed you," Nick grinned. "I actually embarrassed Mr. Suave?" Then he turned serious again, "It doesn't scare me, Rick. And I didn't know it scared you."

"I'm just worried about hurting you."

"Well, I'm not. So stop it."

Warrick tried to pull his hand away, but Nick tightened his grip.

"The only thing that was hurting was the thought that you might not want this anymore," Nick said candidly. "And that you didn't think enough of me to make a clean break. But since that's not the case..." he shrugged, "Then I don't have anything to worry about, do I?"

"No, Nicky...you can't think like that. There's are times--"

"Don't look at me like that," Nick said with a lopsided smile. "I'm not that naive. I know there might come a time when this doesn't work anymore. I hope not, but I know it could happen. But I'm going to do my damnedest to make it work, and while it is, I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

The dark eyes were alight with passion as Nick spoke, and it was all Warrick could do not to throw him down on the sofa. His tensed himself and tried to back away again, but Nick just wasn't letting go, and moved with him. "You don't know, Nicky...the only time I've felt like this...the first time was for a woman in college. That ended--badly. After that--fuck, Nick, it's practically the same pull I'd get for a blackjack table. But this time it's more...even more. And you think that's not something to worry about?"

Instead of replying right away, Nick stepped up to Warrick and enveloped him in a warm embrace. "If it bothers you that much, then yeah, it's something to worry about. But it doesn't make me afraid of you, Rick."

"Maybe you should be," Warrick tightened his control desperately.

"Of you?" Nick laughed softly. "Of the person who's kept me safe and sane through this whole thing? Of the guy who's always had my back before that? There's a lot of things I'm scared of, Rick. More now than before. But you'll never be one of them."

"Jesus," Warrick instinctively wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

"Y'know, Rick," Nick pressed several kisses against Warrick's neck, making him shudder. "I think you should take some of you own advice."

"What advice?" Warrick asked hoarsely.

"You'll get through this easier if you don't fight it."

Warrick pulled away enough to meet Nick's eyes. "No. Nick...baby, that's--how the hell do I... what if I get carried away and do something...I don't know what..."

"You won't," Nick reassured him.

"If I did--"

"You won't," Nick insisted. "If you don't trust yourself, Warrick, then please trust me."

"Nicky..." Warrick was helpless against such a plea.

Nick stretched up so he could bite Warrick's ear gently. "Show me what you've got, tiger," he breathed.

"Oh god..." Warrick grasped the short, silky hair and guided Nick's mouth to his own. Their lips met and Warrick felt his control rapidly slipping away. His hands managed to strip Nick's shirt off, and then he concentrated on touching, licking, devouring as much of Nick's skin as he could. Although it had only been days, it felt like years since he'd immersed himself in the feel of hard muscle and soft skin, in the scent that always brought to mind a hot summer wind, and the delicious noises he could wring from his lover.

"We've really got to leave some stuff in some of the other rooms," Nick panted.

The words registered briefly--only long enough for Warrick to realize they had made their way to the bedroom. He could only assume Nick had guided them there, because he had no memory of it. Barely pausing long enough to remove his own clothes, he toppled Nick back onto the bed. He did have the presence of mind to note Nick was definitely into it, but when he began to move downward, Nick hauled him back up the length of his body.

"I don't want that," Nick sounded almost as frenzied as Warrick felt. "I want you to fuck me." Their eyes locked, "I want all of you, Warrick--everything."

"Greedy," was all Warrick got out before Nick met his lips in another searing kiss. He reached for the night stand and managed to find what he needed without actually looking. His progress was impeded somewhat by Nick arching against him, but he eventually slid one, then two lubed fingers inside.

Nick clutched at Warrick's hips and ass, drawing him closer so that Warrick had a difficult time drawing back enough to roll on the condom. "You're holding back on me, Rick," Nick hooked an ankle around Warrick's thigh. His eyes were black with need. "You don't have to."

Warrick groaned and pressed slowly into the tight opening, but then strong legs wrapped around him, pulled him in deeper.

"C'mon, Rick..." Nick's throaty plea finally shattered what little control Warrick had left and he began thrusting hard and fast.

Warrick never slackened his pace, riding Nick deep and urging the willing body to move with him. Between Nick's moans of encouragement and the storm of feeling that was about to overcome him, Warrick could only bury his face in Nick's neck and let go. As he pitched over the edge into that dark, frightening mass of emotions, Warrick realized he should have known all along Nick would be there to catch him.

What the hell had he ever been worried about? Of course Nick was there. Nick always had his back. Always had him. And so what if he couldn't move? Nick's arms and legs were wrapped around him, so what else did he really need?

"Rick?" Nick was still breathless, but there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Warrick meant to tell Nick that he was a thousand miles past okay, that he felt better than he ever had in his life, and that hey, that is a weird thing to ask after sex, isn't it? Shouldn't it be an old cliché like was it good for you?

All that came out was--"Mmmmm..."

That was enough for Nick, and although he let his legs fall back to the mattress, he kept stroking Warrick's back.

Eventually, Warrick became aware of several things. Like the wetness between them that indicated Nick had been with him all the way and the condom he ought to get rid of even though he didn't want to leave Nick's body. Or that Nick's tremors, which had begun to subside, were beginning to increase again. He pulled out carefully and discarded the condom before rolling back toward Nick. "Babe?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nick said, although he didn't sound fine.

"Tell me, Nicky," Warrick whispered, drawing Nick in close to his side. "Did I hurt you?"

"You know you didn't," Nick replied, and Warrick found he did know that. "But...what now?"

"Now...I set the alarm so we can have a few hours sleep before going into PD," Warrick knew that wasn't what Nick was asking, but he didn't know what Nick was asking, either.

"What if...was that it?"

"What?"

"If...Warrick, I wanted it. It was...amazing, but it won't be like that every time." Nick swallowed hard, "If it's not...if I can't..."

"Hell, baby," Warrick murmured. "If it's like that every time we're never gonna live through the next six months." There was a balance of teasing and honesty in Warrick's words that Nick recognized and understood if the way he relaxed against the larger man was any indication.

"Because I don't know if I could give this up, Rick. Not now. But I--"

"No one's asking you to, Nicky. No way in hell," Warrick tightened his embrace.

Another sigh and Nick rested his head against Warrick's shoulder. "Then I can handle anything else that happens."

Warrick pressed a kiss to Nick's hair before reaching for his alarm clock and setting it. By the time he'd finished, Nick had already slid into an exhausted sleep and Warrick once again had the sound of soft breathing to lull him into peaceful dreams.

When he finally decided to get up and take a shower, Warrick expected to find his lover in the kitchen scrounging up something to eat and was surprised to see Nick in front of the bathroom sink, staring at himself in a mirror. "Whatcha lookin' at, babe?" Warrick asked, wrapping his arms around Nick's waist and nuzzling his neck.

Nick met Warrick's eyes in the mirror and gave him a sheepish grin. "I look too happy to interview a murder suspect."

"Trying to work up an intimidating glare, Nicky?" Warrick chuckled.

"I can't seem to stop smiling," Nick admitted. He noticed Warrick's smug expression and elbowed the taller man in the ribs. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Warrick kissed Nick's bare shoulder. "But if you're in such a great mood, maybe now would be a good time to cover some stuff."

"Such as?" Nick's expression became inquisitive rather than serious.

"Greg knows about us."

"So?" Nick didn't look upset by the news.

"So are we going to tell people?" Nick leaned back as Warrick's arms tightened slightly. "Eventually. I've been trying to drop some hints when I talk to Mom, and I think she might be catching on. I don't know about Dad, though."

Warrick barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. "I thought your folks didn't even know you were gay."

"They don't. And I honestly don't know how they'll react. Cisco's fairly liberal--for Texas--but if it's his own son...I don't think they'll disown me or anything, but it might be good that they're two states away when they find out."

"I thought..." Warrick pressed another kiss to Nick's neck. "I thought you had a problem with it."

"I did. I don't anymore," Nick said easily. "Different priorities." He nodded at Warrick in the mirror, "I'm worried, but I've got different perspective on a lot of things. About what bothers me and what doesn't." He ran his fingers over the arms around him, "Would your grandma have been upset?"

"I doubt it," Warrick said. "She was strict about a whole lot of stuff, but that wasn't one of them. She was always concerned about my education, if I tried drugs, if I did anything that might put me on the wrong side of the law. She might have made a few remarks about great-grandchildren, but that would have been it. Besides, she liked you the couple of times she met you."

"Yeah?" Nick grinned. "I liked her too."

"That leaves work."

"Is there a rule about dating co-workers? Do you know?"

"Oh," Warrick laughed. "I wasn't thinking about the rules so much as telling the rest of the team--and Catherine."

"Figures," Nick snorted.

"I remember hearing something about management turning a blind eye if the couple were of equal rank," Warrick added. "So there can't be any rumors about favoritism."

"We're both CSI-3," Nick leaned his head back so he could kiss Warrick's chin. "Even though I have seniority."

"Only five months," Warrick poked him in the stomach.

"So Greg knows..."

"I think Hodges caught on at some point," Warrick said, ignoring the questioning look Nick gave him. "What about everyone else?"

"They're investigators. They'll figure it out eventually," Nick sounded unconcerned with the situation. "Or we can tell them in another few months."

"Okay," Warrick agreed, many of his own fears allayed by Nick's indifference to people knowing about them.

Nick met his eyes again in the mirror. "Well, that didn't work," he grinned. "What else you got?"

Warrick hesitated, but then decided to go for broke. "The feed?"

That sobered Nick immediately. "Did you destroy the copy I gave you?" he asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"No. It's here, but not for long." Another kiss. "I called my bank."

Nick looked baffled at the apparent non-sequiter. "Your bank?"

"I'm putting it in a safety deposit box, and giving you a key. You'll have to notify the bank 24 hours before you can retrieve it." Warrick held Nick's gaze, "This way, neither of us can take it out on impulse."

"Genius," Nick said with honest admiration.

"Of course," Warrick replied as a laugh rumbled through him.

Nick smiled at their reflection again, "You really suck at this, Rick."

Warrick snorted, "Okay, how about this? I'm taking a shower in thirty seconds and if you're still in here when I do, you're takin' one with me and you'll be late for your first suspect interview without Grissom."

"That'll do," Nick detached Warrick's arms and turned to give him a kiss. "I've got to go home to change."

Warrick took a swat as Nick's ass as he headed for the door, "I'll meet you at PD."

* * *

Brass gestured Nick over to go over some last minute details, so Warrick went into the observation room where Grissom was already waiting. He saw Jeremy Ballard seated at the table, tracing idle patterns on it with his fingertips, but Warrick couldn't get any sort of read on the kid. When Nick and Brass walked in, Warrick glanced up to check that the intercom was on before refocusing on the room's occupants.

"Hey, Jeremy," Nick greeted as he sat down at the table.

"Hi," Jeremy sounded just this side of sullen.

Brass, on the other hand, started his conversation with--"So you told your advocate you didn't want her in here, is that right?"

"Can't stand her," Jeremy's lip curled. "She treats me like a retard."

"And you're not used to that," Nick said. "Your teachers told us you're one of the best students they've got."

Jeremy shrugged.

"Sounds like you get some special treatment," Brass pointed out.

"All the advanced students do," Jeremy shot back.

"They all get marked present even when they aren't?" Brass continued. "Like you did the morning your mom was murdered? Where were you, anyway?"

"I went out for breakfast," Jeremy replied with another shrug.

"Do you go to one of the buffets?" Nick asked with a grin, "Some mornings I could feel like I could clean one of those places out."

"Uh..." Jeremy looked briefly disconcerted. "Yeah, those are pretty good."

Nick nodded his agreement, "Which one did you go to?"

Warrick felt a smile tug at his lips as Jeremy began to stammer, next to him, Grissom was nodding. "He's off to a good start."

"Yeah, he is."

"I'm still not sure about him going out alone, but I'll probably start sending him out with Sara or Greg," Grissom didn't take his eyes from the two-way glass.

Warrick nodded slowly. "But not me," he tried not to sound resentful.

"I'd rather not risk having anyone able to suggest collusion, Warrick."

"Collu--oh." Warrick fell silent, at a loss how to proceed. "Uh...when did you find out?"

"When Catherine told me."

Warrick choked back a laugh despite his discomfort with the situation. If they didn't have the window to concentrate on and had to face each other, he wasn't sure he would get through it at all. "We probably should have told you," he said lamely. "But it was--"

"You weren't obligated to tell me," Grissom cut him off firmly. "Unless it begins to affect your work, it's no one else's business."

"I meant as a friend," Warrick smiled. "But thanks."

Their attention was drawn back to the interrogation as Jeremy's voice began to rise, "--don't even like baseball."

"Really?" Nick opened a folder, still friendly. "Because you've been playing since you were--what? Six?"

"Five," Jeremy muttered.

"By all accounts, you're a pretty good player."

"Like I have a choice," Jeremy's lips curled contemptuously.

"You dad was tough about that?" Brass jumped in. "Started to piss you off?"

"Dad?" Jeremy's voice choked slightly. "He doesn't make me do anything. When I told him I wanted to drop baseball for extra computer classes, he was all for it."

"And your mom?" Nick asked carefully.

"She said it would be pretty hard to study the computer without one."

"She was going to take your computer away if you dropped baseball," Nick clarified.

Jeremy nodded, his hands were clenched into fists on the table. "They would were advanced classes--I would be ahead a semester at university."

"Why wouldn't your mom want that for you?" Brass asked, his disbelief obvious.

"She expected me to get in on a sports scholarship. My grandparents set aside a trust fund for my education!" Jeremy spat. "I'm not supposed to need a scholarship. She got her hands on it--I know she did."

"What makes you say that?"

"Boob job. Face lift. Tummy tuck. She got the works last year. Dad doesn't make enough money for that. She stole my trust fund."

"Then why did you shoot your dad, Jeremy?" Nick asked softly.

Brass gave him a warning glare, and on the other side of the glass, Grissom stiffened. Warrick knew what both men were thinking. This was the wrong time to bring up the crimes--Jeremy could easily see where the questioning was going and clam up.

He didn't, though. Instead Jeremy's lips began to tremble and he suddenly looked much younger. "That was a mistake," he choked out. "I didn't mean to..."

"Eleven times?" Nick didn't raise his voice.

"I don't even remember after the first one," Jeremy's voice caught on a sob. "But he wouldn't listen to me. He never listens when it comes to Mom. He just told me to go along with what she wanted..." His eyes filled, "I just got so...so mad..."

"And your mom?" Nick still managed to sound sympathetic and interested.

Jeremy's entire expression contorted away from sadness into something frightening. "I should have just shot her. I told her what happened--I wanted to scare her...she shook her head and I knew what she was thinking...that she would have whatever was left of the trust...she would have everything." His voice turned into a snarl, "She wanted me to concentrate on baseball. So I practiced my swing." He looked at Nick, "You see why I had to do it."

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," Nick said sadly, standing up. "But no, I don't see it." He left the room as Brass got up and cuffed Jeremy.

Warrick and Grissom left the observation room just as two uniforms were going into interrogation to get Jeremy. They watched with Nick as Jeremy was escorted to a cell. Brass came out and gave Nick a quick clap on the shoulder before following the young murderer.

"You okay?" Warrick asked.

"Yeah," Nick released a heavy sigh. "It's just--I don't he's even truly registered what he's done."

"He'll have a lot of time to think about it," Grissom replied. "I'm sure he'll be tried as an adult."

"He's seventeen," Nick said. "It's close enough. His only shot is insanity, but I don't think he'll qualify under M'naughten."

"I'd thought you lost him for a minute there," Warrick admitted. "But you pulled it off."

"Well, I'll see you both tonight," Grissom said, then glanced at Nick. "Welcome back, Nicky."

Nick watched him go with a bemused smile. "I don't think I'll ever get him."

Warrick chuckled, "You ready to go home, baby?" he asked for Nick's ears only.

"Which home?" Nick raised his eyebrows.

"Does it matter?"

"Nope," Nick flashed one of his long-absent dazzlers. "Not as long as you're there."

END

A/N: Whew. Well, that's one monster plotbunny caged. *g* I just wanted to say thanks again to everyone who commented. It definitely helped keep me going whenever I started to feel bogged down. Also an extra thank you to eleanor_lavish for starting oh_no_nicky which is hugely responsible for fanning the flames of this particular obsession. ;P *blows kisses to everybody*

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