Previous part of Don't Fence Me In.
***
"If you're going to learn to survive in this family," Marcie said confidentially, while still shaking his hand, "you have to ignore Laura and Mark. You can still hold hope out for their kids... but frankly, I think they're on their way to being lost causes as well."
"It's sad." Greg replied, honestly.
Marcie shrugged. "I hate to say it, but you'll get used to it. But hey, at least now there is another sibling who will have to share her poisonous diatribes. Where is Nick?"
As if by magic, the door to their bedroom opened and Nick appeared. He had heard the last parts of Laura's confrontation with Greg and had been about to come out when Marcie had interrupted them. He had taken those few moments to compose himself.
"Hi, Marcie." he whispered, hugging her closely. "Arms... can't reach around you."
"Shut up, you bastard." she laughed.
"I mean it, you're huge!"
"Well, there is a baby in there. An evil baby, born out of wedlock. I've already pre-booked the surgery to get the horns and tail removed."
Nick smiled. "Well, we got it Baby's First Pitchfork for Christmas."
"Excellent!"
"If you really want to piss Laura off, make us the godparents."
Marcie chuckled. "Her head would explode."
"Don't worry, I am sure two will grow back in its place." Greg muttered.
Marcie leaned in to Nick's ear. "I like him already."
--------------------
The poker game was raucous and stretched out past midnight. It helped that Laura didn't come anywhere near the kitchen while they were playing. Jillian and Bill had joined them for a few rounds, then made an attempt at trying not to display blatant favouritism by going and joining their estranged daughter in the study. But this did not last that long, especially as they both were extremely upset by the turn of events that Laura and Mark had inflicted upon what had hoped to be a close and loving family reunion.
When Marcie started yawning at a quarter to one in the morning, everybody began making their excuses and retired to their bedrooms.
Nick had appeared happy and lighthearted throughout the game, but Greg had seen behind the façade several times. He knew he wasn't able to shrug off the earlier accusations so easily, and the continued presence of Laura in the house was only going to aggravate it until that situation was resolved.
"I heard most of what she said to you." Nick said, as he was shucking out of his jeans.
Greg was in the process of tiredly unlacing his boots. "Yeah?"
"No life is ever going to be normal with you, but it's normal the way I like it."
Greg smiled at him. "Thanks."
"And you're right, we can get around the kid thing."
Greg looked horrified. "Not now!"
Nick laughed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Somewhere in the future."
"You gave me a heart attack. I mean, I noticed you getting clucky around Marcie's belly..." He kicked his boots across the room.
Nick dove underneath the covers. "It's so cold. Hurry up, and keep me warm."
Greg practically jumped out of all his clothes, bar his boxers, and slid underneath the corner of the blankets Nick was holding up for him.
"Mmm, body heat." Greg murmured happily. "You're the best hot water bottle, you know that?"
"Make sure that gets put on my tombstone."
Greg kissed his left shoulderbone and drew it along to the hollow of his throat. "I do want kids with you. One day."
"I know. It's too early."
"I guess I'm just selfish. I like having you to myself too much."
"Don't worry just yet. I feel the same." Nick grinned, rubbing his thumb along Greg's cheek.
"So we'll be just like any other couple. When we start getting tired of each other, we'll throw kids into the mix."
Nick laughed. "Greg Sanders, how did you ever stay single so long?"
Drifting off into sleep, Greg managed to whisper, "I was waiting for you."
Feeling Greg's heartbeat lulling him into rest as well, Nick breathed, "Me too."
------------------------------
Greg jerks awake when Nick's fist thumps against his thigh. During sleep Nick has turned against him and is lying in a semi-foetal position, his hands balled against his side. He is restless, which explains why he had struck him, and he is mumbling words which make no sense, and sentences with no reason. Despite the cold, he is sweaty and warm to the touch. His mouth is twisted in undeniable agony. Greg knows straight away that this isn't one of the underground dreams, where Nick finds himself in the coffin again with no rescue coming. After three years of being together, he can tell the difference between these relatively new nightmares and the ones that had always been in place. This is the nightmare that Nick experiences only occasionally now, and has obviously been brought up by the events of the past evening.
"Nick." he whispers. "Wake up, baby."
A tear slides from beneath Nick's closed lashes, and Greg brings him in closer to himself. "Come on, Nicky..."
With a start, Nick awakes, and lies back as he re-examines his surroundings. "Greg?" he asks, hesitantly.
"I'm here."
Nick rolls over to face him, and buries his face into Greg's shoulder. "Oh, thank God."
Greg smooths down his hair. "I don't think I need to ask what you were dreaming about."
Nick shakes his head. "I don't want to think about that."
"Okay."
Nick's fingers crawl behind the nape of Greg's neck and bring him in for a tender kiss. Greg returns it, saddened by the desperation behind his partner's eyes.
"I could kill Mark for bringing this all up again." he breathes.
"No, I almost told Gray today anyway. It's been on my mind regardless."
"Can I just fantasize about killing Mark anyway?"
Nick gives a slight laugh. "Mark is the second last thing I want to be thinking about." He wipes at his eyes and gives a heavy sigh.
"Just try and get back to sleep, Nicky."
A tear runs down Nick's cheek as he runs his hand down Greg's side and rests it on the small of his back. "I don't want to... not just yet."
"I'm here. I'll wake you up if you have another nightmare."
The tips of Nick's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Greg's boxers, hesitantly at first, and then the rest of the hand follows to cup the bare skin underneath them. Greg's eyes widen in surprise, and with a slight sense of worry. With all that was on Nick's mind, he isn't sure if he himself feels comfortable at this sudden display of sexual need after a nightmare about a sexual act so long ago.
"I need you." Nick whispers, his voice cracking. "I need you to remind me... that it can be good, that it can be beautiful..."
"Nick... are you sure?" Greg asks.
"Why?" Nick's features appear wounded in the blue light seeping in from the window.
"Just... I feel like I'd be taking advantage of you, or something."
Nick's grip on his ass tightens as he pulls him in towards his chest. "You never have, and you won't be tonight."
Greg opens his mouth to speak, but Nick covers it with his own. Greg is literally unable to speak, but he knows his partner well enough to know he is being truthful. He begins to respond to Nick's kiss, feeling his boxers being pulled down further by the hand within them. He can feel his flesh responding, hardening, and feel Nick's own response against him. His breath begins to quicken, Nick's hands are all over him, and he breaks away from the kiss to tear his boxers away. Nick then reaches for Greg's hand and guides it to his waist.
"I love you, G." is the breath in his ear as he pulls Nick's boxers away from him and frees the flesh within.
He arches back to meet Nick's eyes, and there is nothing there but love. The fear is gone, and this makes Greg feel better about the situation. He whispers his own declarations of love in Norwegian; which he loves to pull out and use to Nick when he wants to make him smile, to feel special and loved, just as Nick has used Spanish against him. Nick has heard these words often enough to know their meaning, and he gives a throaty growl of appreciation.
Greg hooks one leg behind Nick's, and bare flesh is pressed against bare flesh in unbearable friction now that their bodies have been freed of all fabric. There is dampness against his cheek, and he notes that Nick is crying again. He kisses the tears away, as if it is the pain he can make vanish. He wants to stop, to just hold Nick and go no further – but the set of Nick's mouth and eyes let him know that he isn't crying because of bad memories. He is crying because he is letting himself remember what it means to love, the act of loving, and what it is to be loved. As Greg realises this himself, his own tears slowly begin, and this time it is Nick whose lips brush against them.
"Don't cry, baby." Nick whispers. "There's nothing for either of us to cry about."
It's a maddening statement, because neither of them can stop the tears. But the smiles on their faces and the love in their eyes are enough to combat them as they continue moving against and within each other in the darkness.***
They slept tangled up in each other for the rest of the night, as if they couldn't bear to let go. Greg awoke before Nick, and realised how truly exhausted he must be. Usually a light sleeper, Nick was now lying motionless like the dead. Greg watched him for a while, waiting for any sign that he would wake soon but it seemed he would be waiting for some time yet. He leaned in and kissed Nick gently but got no response. Greg smiled, and wriggled out from under his grasp. He pulled his clothes on and made his way downstairs. After the emotional turmoil of the previous night he would have preferred not to let Nick wake to an empty bed, but it appeared as if he would be out for hours yet and Greg needed coffee.
The kitchen was empty when he entered and he started preparing coffee. In the silence of the house he felt as if he was being unnecessarily loud when the machine began gurgling the merry tune he knew so well of steam hitting ground coffee beans and alchemizing into liquid gold. Impatient to get his fix, Greg quickly switched the pot with a mug and let it fill slowly, before replacing the pot back under the flow. Armed with his essential morning weapon, he made his way out to the back porch and delighted in the crisp morning air which seemed to wake him up even more than his first hit of caffeine.
It was hard to believe that it hadn't been even twenty-four hours since he'd arrived here. The events that had passed were enough to fill a week, and the dramas enough for a full season of some crappy teen soap that he pretended not to watch but was secretly addicted to anyway. He sat on the bottom step, the wood cold beneath him. He sipped appreciatively at his coffee in order to start warming up, his thoughts wandering in the early morning silence which was intermittently lightened by the sweet song of a bird in the tree nearest to him.
If someone had asked him a year ago where he thought he would be this Christmas, the very last guess would have been being welcomed with (almost) unanimous arms at the Stokes ranch. To be sitting here now, right where Nick grew up, drinking coffee and listening to birdsongs made him smile with the speed of it all. He wouldn't have thought that within a year, despite all the terrible things that had happened he would be at this chest-burstingly happy state of existence.
"Mimus polyglottos," Nick said softly, from behind him.
Greg turned, surprised to see him, and gave him a wicked grin. "Mmm, I love it when you talk to dirty to me."
"Funny." Nick sat on the step behind him, his legs creating a natural frame for Greg to lean back against and be supported by. "It's the mockingbird."
"I'm not mocking you." Greg continued to tease.
"No, stupid." Nick laughed, kissing the back of his head. "It's the mockingbird."
"I'm the mockingbird?"
"No, the mimus polyglottos."
"Ooh, say it again!" Greg growled, his hand inching below the hem of Nick's jeans and rubbing the bare skin beneath.
Nick gave him a loving cuff over the ear, laughing. "Why do I put up with you? The mockingbird is the state bird of Texas."
"It has a nice sound. Can't dance to it though."
"Knowing you, you would probably try anyway."
Greg yawned, and burrowed deeper into his warmth. "Probably."
"You still tired?"
"A little. I couldn't get back to sleep when I first woke up, though." He half turned so he could look up at Nick. "Sorry, I didn't want to leave you to wake up alone, but you seemed pretty out of it."
Nick brushed some of the bed hair out of his eyes, and as he pulled his hand away Greg brushed it with a kiss. He laughed softly. "It's okay, G."
"How are you? And don't give me any bullshit answer, either."
Nick looked down at him. "I'm... better. Really." He leaned down further and kissed Greg.
The song of the mockingbird was drowned out by the sound of an approaching car horn.
Greg began laughing with Nick's lips still upon his. "That has to be a Stokes," he said, drawing away, "As only they seem to keep interrupting us."
Nick's laugh lines etched deeper into his skin as his smile increased with his realisation of the car's occupant. "Ginny!"
Greg almost fell flat on his back as his supportive frame disappeared, jumping down the steps and heading out to the car parking on the drive. The dark haired, healthily-tanned teenager threw herself out of the driver's seat and was swung around in her uncle's arms as if she were nine years old again.
"Virginia Elliott!" he could hear Nick exclaim as he slowly got to his feet. "You have to stop growing!"
"Shut up!" she yelled, sounding exactly like Beth. "You should stop macking out on the porch like a lovelorn teenager."
She screamed as Nick grabbed her around the neck and noogied her, like her mother had done to him the day before. "Stop!"
He let her go and she staggered away, catching her breath. He leaned into the car to pop the trunk and start unloading the luggage.
Ginny remembered her manners, and walked straight up to Greg. Her eyes were very much like Beth's, honest and grounded, as she sized the man up and stuck her hand out, her smile genuine. "Just letting you know straight up, I'm not going to call you Uncle Greg. I'm too old for that crap."
He was honoured that she would even consider him as such to start off with. "And I'm too young for it, anyway." he countered.
She tilted her head. "Don't forget, I'm eighteen. Anything over twenty-four is ancient to me." She laughed, and it was infectious.
"I'll keep that in mind."
She gave him a wide smile, and turned her attentions to Nick as he came up to them with her bag thrown over his shoulder. "You on the other hand, are old enough." She reached up to give him a huge bear hug. "I'm so glad you're here." she whispered into his ear. "I've missed you."
"Same here," he replied truthfully.
"At least I know why you were staying away now, rather than just hating us."
"You weren't stupid enough to think that that was the reason." Nick chided her.
"Well, there had to be a reason."
Greg felt her eyes flicker over him again, but there was no resentment there – rather, faint bemusement. He realised that Nick had never brought anybody to the ranch before, so this was the first time she had ever seen her favourite uncle as part of a couple. It was all new and interesting (and rife for mockery) to her.
Yet he could see her eyes cloud for a moment as she looked back at Nick, and Greg saw the pain that he had noticed in all the Stokes' eyes as they were revisited by memories of Nick's abduction – it was a look of relief and gratitude for the near-escape from tragedy that caused them just to take an extra moment to drink in his presence and relish the reality that he was still around. And an instant later it was gone, and the brave smile pasted on again. A mere slippage that Nick himself may not have been aware of, but Greg couldn't help but see at every turn.
"I take it things didn't go well with Holier-Than-Thou Laura." she remarked.
"Hey..." Nick warned. Greg was amazed that he could come to the rescue of the honour of a woman who had impugned his own.
Ginny shrugged. "Well, really!"
"Did your mom talk to you about it?" Nick asked.
Ginny started to take the steps two at a time. "No, I just assumed, when I saw her driving the opposite way to me on the highway."
Nick had been about to follow her, and he froze. "What?"
"Oh, crap." Greg breathed, his stomach felt as if a stone had been dropped into it from a great height.
Ginny turned back to look at them. "You didn't know?"
Nick gave the exasperated, forced grin that in no way hid his frustration. "Unbelievable."
Greg rested his hand on his arm. "Maybe she's gone to get the kids?"
Nick gave him a tender smile. "That would be nice, but I have a feeling this isn't a Hallmark Christmas moment."
Ginny scowled, realising the drama was still continuing. "Now can I be a bitch about her?"
----------------------------------------
It was just as Nick feared. They had climbed the stairs back to the second floor, and Ginny had detoured to wake – and annoy – her parents. Greg followed Nick to what must have been Laura's old room, and they entered to find the room bare of any presence. The bed had been neatly made, and when Nick pulled the closet door open he was greeted by the depressing spectacle of empty clothes hangers.
He sat on the end of the bed and sighed. "She ran off as well. Jesus."
"I'm sorry." Greg said gently.
Nick looked up, startled. "Nothing for you to be sorry about. Stop saying that!"
Greg's attention was drawn by an envelope lying on the chest of drawers. "Looks like she left a goodbye note, at least." He handed it to Nick.
"It's addressed only to Mom." He folded it up and stuck it in the pocket of his jacket.
Greg sat next to him and snuck his arm around his waist.
"It's funny." Nick mused, even though Greg could tell from the tone of his voice that he really thought it was anything but funny. "Even though you know life isn't like the way it is in all the Christmas movies, I still deep down hoped that everything would turn out well. That we would have a clichéd merry little Christmas. Good enough to stick on a poster, you know?"
"I think we've done extremely well." Greg gave him an affectionate rub. "Better than I expected, anyway."
Nick laughed. "That's because you were scared shitless. You weren't expecting much."
"Maybe." Greg allowed Nick to take his free hand and hold it between both of his. "But the way I look at it, we're here at your parents' home in less than a year, and we've only had difficulties with one of your family members. It mightn't have been pretty, but we've been accepted. And with open, loving arms. We're lucky."
"You shouldn't be surprised by it, it should be an expectation." came Jillian's voice from the doorway.
"Mom..." Nick said, surprised.
"I didn't mean that to sound insulting." Greg said quickly.
"It wasn't. It's just sad that you were both so scared. But I understand." she paused. "Greg, I don't suppose you would mind brewing some fresh coffee would you?"
He realized this was a not-so-subtle request to be left alone with her son, and nodded. She squeezed his arm affectionately as he moved past her, and he was thankful for that small gesture of reassurance.
Jillian was worried by the fact that her son wouldn't look up at her. She moved to stand right before him, and finally he met her gaze.
"This isn't your fault." she said simply. "Oh, I know you, Nick. Even though you know we would never blame you, you still blame yourself. You are not accountable for your sister's or your brother-in-law's actions. They are choosing to blame you, and that is their choice, but you are not the cause of whatever actions they take. That is entirely on their own heads."
Nick shook his head, and she reached down to still him by cupping his chin in her hand. "They're being assholes, and don't look so shocked that I'm calling them that. They are, and it's breaking my heart that I probably will not see my grandchildren on Christmas morning..." Nick tried to look away, but she held him firmly in place. "But it's breaking my heart just as much that they think they can treat my son, and his partner, in such an awful way."
She wiped away the one tear that slid down his cheek, belying his stoic expression. "Don't you forget that. Now, let's go down and have coffee."
She pulled him up, and he grabbed her in a sudden hug. She stroked the back of his head softly, and although he towered over her now it felt no different than it had thirty years before as she comforted her wounded child.
Jillian closed her eyes sadly, and knew this was the moment. "Honey, there's something I have to tell you."
***
After a subdued breakfast, during which all the Stokes family members had reacted in characteristically various ways to the news of Laura's departure, Nick had gone to shower while Greg had decided to walk off some of his nervous energy. Nick had seemed a bit distant when they had gone their separate ways, but Greg tried not to read too much into it.
As he stepped off the front porch he debated going to have a look in the stables, but he really did want to see the horses with Nick so instead he took the trail which diverged amongst a copse of trees and a small reservoir. It was peaceful there, and he found a sunny spot on the rocks where he stretched like a lizard in the warmth. It wasn't long before his eyelids began to droop and his breath deepen as he began to drift off to sleep...
...only to be awakened by somebody shaking his shoulder.
"Greg! Hey, Greg!"
Greg jerked upwards, and yawned violently. Gray was standing above him, looking slightly concerned.
"Jesus, you looked dead, man!"
Greg finished yawning behind his hand. "I think I was sleeping like the dead."
"Late night?"
Greg hoped like hell he wasn't blushing. "Kinda... Nick had some nightmares."
Gray frowned, and sat beside him. "Does he have them often?"
Greg felt as if he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to be honest with Gray – he liked the guy, and if he were to admit it to himself, it would be nice to relieve himself of some of the strain he was feeling, being Nick's sole confidant. But he knew Nick might not be too happy about appearing weak to the brother he idolised.
Gray, aware of this conflict, jammed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not going to say anything to Nick unless he brings it up with me. But you're part of the Stokes clan now, Greg. That means, like the rest of us, you need to tell us everything you know about everybody else so we're all in the loop. That way we appear strong and impenetrable, but everybody knows your vulnerabilities irregardless. It's how we save face."
Greg gave him a tired smile. "So, I can blame it on genetics, huh?"
"Whatever you need to do. But it's not just Nick we have to care about now. I suppose we'll have to go to Nick to get the truth about you."
Greg held up his hands in protest. "Hey, I'm an open book."
"Okay, then, so how are you?"
Greg nodded; he'd walked right into that one. "I'm okay. I wasn't around six last night, but I'm better now. And I think Nick is, too. Even if Laura has taken off now as well. If it weren't for the kids, he would probably be a lot happier that she and Mark aren't around to deal with," he paused, "you don't think Kat or Jess will be a problem, do you? I mean, I haven't spoken to them as much as you and Beth... well, Beth anyway."
Gray flushed. "And thanks for bringing up that awkwardness again."
"Sorry. I suffer from advanced, chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome." Greg briefly wondered how long it would take Nick to get over him if he went and promptly drowned himself in the reservoir.
"It's okay, I kinda deserved it." Gray sighed. "Hell, there's no ‘kinda' about it. But, Kat? When she found out, she was practically ready to start sewing a PFLAG banner so she could march in the next Pride parade, to show how cool she was with it."
Greg chuckled.
"Her heart's in the right place." Gray smiled.
"I just want to see Nick's face when he sees a photo of her in the paper holding a placard that says I love my gay or possibly bisexual brother!"
Their laughter rang out across the hills and skipped over the surface of the dam, and once again Greg marvelled at how good a simple laugh could make you feel.
"I just want to know he's okay," Gray said, in all seriousness again. "And I know you'll tell me the truth."
"He's been good lately," Greg told him, slowly kicking his foot back and forth amongst a small pile of rocks at the base of their seat. "It's just that argument last night brought everything up again. He still has nightmares about the grave and the Gordons every now and again, but not as frequently as he used to." His lower lip trembled slightly as he thought back to that night again.
Gray couldn't help but notice. "I'm sorry."
Greg shrugged it away. "It's still hard to deal with myself."
"He and I argued about that yesterday as well. I told him I was pissed off that he had never let us know about you, that on that night you had no support, when we should have been there for you."
Greg looked at him, surprised. His throat had gone dry, and he stumbled a bit over his words as he spoke. "Thanks... it means a lot to hear you say that. But Nick... you can't think he was the bad guy about that whole thing..."
"I never think Nick is a bad guy. And it's just that a whole lot of things make sense now."
Greg nodded.
"Sometimes I wish he had a different job," Gray admitted. "I mean, ever since he went to Vegas he's had a suspect point a gun in his face, had a guy stalk him and throw him out a second storey window, been buried alive–"
"Been caught in the middle of a forest fire," Greg mused.*
"What?" Gray cried.
"Oh, nothing," Greg said quickly.
Gray looked at him suspiciously, but let it drop. "And you've been in an explosion at the lab... I'm thinking that you guys don't exactly work in the safest of places."
Greg tried to shrug it off. "It's the job."
"Don't you start with the macho bullshit now. Enough people in this family have it covered. Including Beth."
The two men laughed, although Gray quickly sobered again. "I just worry about him. And now to find out about... well, you know..."
Greg found it extremely sad that Gray found it too painful to bring up Nick's abuse, although it was completely reasonable of him to have difficulties with it. "I know," was all he could reply.
"Mom and Dad tried to find her, you know," Gray said suddenly.
Greg didn't ask who, knowing that Gray would immediately offer the information.
"They never told Nick this, but when he first told them, they tried to track down the babysitter who did it to him."
"How do you know this?"
"They told me and Beth last night."
"But not Nick?"
"Not yet."
Greg bit his lip, hating that he now knew and was in on keeping it a secret from Nick.
"Look, I am sure they will tell him, it's just waiting for the right moment."
Greg also knew that now it had been brought up, he couldn't not know. "What happened?"
"She moved away from here, and they hired a private detective to track her down. But it came to nothing. She'd died in a car accident four years before, when Nick would have still been in high school."
Greg closed his eyes bitterly, and sighed.
"I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing."
Greg opened his eyes and looked at him again. "How could it be either?"
"Well, not to sound horribly vengeful, but at least she's not hurting any other kids. The bad thing is, if Nick ever wanted closure by confronting her, that opportunity is gone."
"I don't think he ever would have wanted a confrontation with her."
"Probably not."
"In fact, he's never even mentioned anything about wanting to find her."
Gray nodded. "Well, you can understand why." He looked off into the hills, his eyes lost in childhood memories. "Nick... he's always wanted to be strong and independent, but he's always craved acceptance and approval as well." His eyes turned back to Greg. "He's found it all with you."
Greg's eyes burned, but he remained stoic.
"And that makes us all grateful that he's finally found it. Despite all the crap, he looks happy. You're a good guy, too, Greg." Gray stood to leave. "You better both make sure neither of you fuck it up."
He smiled broadly, to let Greg know it was just a joke – the usual older brother's way of layering sentiment with macho humour so he could walk away with his pride intact.
"We'll try not to," Greg conceded "But we're only human. There'll be fuck ups along the way."
Gray gave him a broad smile that looked so much like Nick's. "Well, that's life, isn't it?"
------------------------------
Nick was sitting in the armchair by the window with a book when Greg trudged into their bedroom, desperately wanting a shower.
"Good walk?" Nick asked, reaching out to him.
Greg perched on the left hand arm of the chair, and Nick rested his arm upon his thigh. "I didn't get that far," he admitted. "I fell asleep on the rocks by the dam."
Nick gave a low laugh. "Fresh air does that to you."
"Gray came along and woke me up. We had a good talk, actually."
"Yeah?"
Greg could feel the arm upon him tense. "It was a good one. Stop being suspicious."
"Sorry," Nick said, shamefacedly. "I'm still just uptight about Laura."
"I know."
Nick looked up at him, and saw something in Greg's eyes that wanted to be hidden but never could be from Nick. "You do know, don't you?"
"What?" Greg asked, wincing internally.
"It's okay – I just wish I had gotten to you before an arm of the Stokes Family Grapevine did."
Greg relaxed. "If we're talking about what I think we're talking about, then yes, I know."
"Are you? Talking about what I think we're talking about?" The curve of Nick's lips told Greg that he was being played with.
"Stop it." Greg smiled, and leaned down for a kiss. Nick took it hungrily, and then pushed him away.
"Your breath stinks and you need a shower."
"I know." Greg kissed him again, and Nick took it again despite his earlier protestation.
"I wish they'd told me earlier." Nick pulled Greg down to squeeze in beside him. "But maybe I wouldn't have been ready for it then."
"Maybe not," Greg agreed. "But how do you feel about it now?"
"This is going to sound awful, but I feel relieved."
"I don't think anyone would blame you for feeling relieved, Nicky."
Nick shook his head. "Not because she's dead... well, not really. It's more of a selfish reason... I always used to think that maybe I should have found her myself, done something just in case it was happening with other kids... that I should have stopped her throughout the years... but I didn't."
"You're the victim in this situation, Nick. Nothing can be blamed upon you."
"It's an old argument, G."
"But a true one. When you were nine, or even in high school, you didn't know what you know now. You have to stop beating yourself up about it."
"At least I know she hasn't been continuing it for the past twenty years. It doesn't help whoever she might have done it to in the years leading up to her death. And that's why I feel relieved, and I hate it. Because I'm relieved that much of the responsibility has been taken from me."
Greg held him by the side of his face and looked him in the eyes. "Stop it, Stokes."
Greg's stern tone and the use of his surname as if they were at work made Nick's eyes widen, though he recognised why Greg had used it specifically. He gave a rueful smile. "Okay, Sanders."
"Let's make a deal." Greg threaded his fingers through Nick's. "No more blaming yourself for anything that goes down over the next few days, and let's backdate that to cover anything that happened over the past couple of decades."
"That's a pretty huge deal."
"Just promise to try."
"Like I promised not to cause any more fights?"
To his surprise, Greg howled in frustration and whacked his head against Nick's chest. "Wow, you lasted all of four seconds!"
Nick laughed. "Okay, starting from now."
"Promise."
"Scout's honour."
"Okay."
"Now get a shower, stinky."
"Will you make out with me when I'm minty fresh?" Greg asked.
"Ask me again when you're clean." Nick turned his attention back to his book.
Greg made his way to the bathroom, and said over his shoulder, "You would make out with me anyway."
Nick smiled into his book. "Yeah, I know," he said softly.***
After he had kept his promise to make out with Greg by the window for a substantial amount of time, Nick left him to have a nap and catch up on the sleep that had been interrupted during the night.
Stepping out into the hall, he closed the door quietly behind him and was confronted by a lens in his face and the distinct sound of a shutter releasing.
"Ginny!" he protested feebly, knowing it was already too late.
"I only like candid shots," the dark-eyed teenager shrugged. "I think I'll call this one Sprung."
"Oh, yeah?" Nick steered her down the hallway, so that their voices wouldn't wake Greg. "And what exactly do you think I was doing to be caught out?"
Ginny's waggling eyebrows would have put Groucho Marx to shame.
"Grow up!" Nick said, exasperated but amused. "Do you think that's all adults ever do behind closed doors?"
"Huh." Ginny innocently placed her index finger at the corner of her mouth. "That's all adults ever seem to think teenagers are doing if they have company and close their door."
"Yeah, well truth be told, teenagers would be more likely. Adults might just be wanting privacy, and it would be the only place they would get it other than the bathroom."
"So, what were you doing then?" Ginny asked, amused as she sat down on the window-seat at the end of the hallway.
He coloured slightly as he remembered tasting spearmint on Greg's tongue. "Wrapping Christmas presents."
Ginny snapped off another shot in bemusement. "Nice euphemism."
Trying to deflect attention away from himself, he reached for the camera. "Pretty old-school," he said, admiring the manual SLR.
"It's practically an antique," Ginny said proudly.
"We use the digital ones at work. It's made it so much easier."
"Well, it would for you guys. I don't like digital prints, though. They're so crisp..." she tilted her head with distaste. "It's almost as if they're soulless. I mean, I like them for parties and stuff and getting quick snaps, but nothing beats Barney."
"Barney?"
She held up the camera again, by way of explanation.
"I hope you didn't name him after the dinosaur." Nick grinned.
"Give me some credit."
"Barney Gumbel?"
She cocked a finger at him and clucked her tongue.
"I should have guessed."
"When you use a slow speed the shutter sounds like he's burping."
Nick smiled indulgently at her. "Greg is going to love you."
She smiled at him just as indulgently. "Listen to you!"
He sat beside her. "What?"
"I can just hear it in your voice."
He refused to blush again. "Oh, you can, can you?"
"Yeah. It's nice."
"Really?"
"Yes! I mean, for those who are interested in that kind of thing."
He could hear in her own voice the proud tones of the teenager who wanted to resist all that mushy crap and make their own way in the world before falling into the trappings of the disease called romance. "You're not?"
"Not yet. For the moment, it's going to be me and Barney, hitting the roads and seeing America from the windshield of my clapped-out car."
"How very Kerouac of you," Beth said warmly, but without chiding, as she emerged from her room. Her hair, freshly washed and dried, smelled like warm apples.
"Just don't pick up any hitch-hikers," Nick warned.
"Take all the romance out of an idealistic adolescent dream." Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Tell that to all the girls I've had to collect samples off in order to identify their bodies."
"Eww," Beth and Ginny replied in unison.
"Yeah, eww," Nick said sternly.
"You're going to be a very strict father," Ginny mused. "Your kids will have to rely upon their cool older cousin for their fake IDs and beer-buying abilities."
Nick couldn't even formulate an answer, but his withering glare was enough to make her refrain from giggling at his taciturn figure.
"Like you never had anybody buy you beer," Beth hissed at her younger brother.
"Busted!" Ginny crowed.
"And I better never catch you drinking underage!" Beth reprimanded, grabbing her daughter in a wild hug and managing to wink at Nick above her head. Nick grinned, shaking his head slightly. Beth released her daughter and tenderly tamed her messed-up hair. "Why don't you show your uncle your portfolio?"
Ginny turned to Nick with excitement. "I know you've already seen the ones I emailed you, but I brought my best ones."
"I'd like to see them."
She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Beth followed them to the room that had been set aside for her daughter. Ginny had already made her presence known in the small space, her iPod carelessly thrown on the bedside table with the earphones dangling freely, books stacked beside it, her Rupert bear which she had had since childhood sitting propped against the pillows, and a large portfolio waiting upon the bed.
Ginny flung herself down, and made room for both Nick and Beth to spread out beside her as she unzipped the folio and turned to the first page.
"They're amazing," Nick breathed, stunned by her compositions – the ones she had sent him via email had been good, but these showed how far she had developed her skill in the few months since then. She had a preference for stark, black and white shots with an atmospheric grainy texture, but there was also an ironic quality about most of them – as if the lens was indeed capturing the humour reflected from her own wry gaze.
Ginny made it two-thirds of the way through the folio, and then abruptly closed it. "That's it."
He was struck by the change in her demeanour, and by the fact that he had seen there was more to come. He quickly looked at Beth, and he could tell that she knew as well.
He decided to call her on it. "No, there was more."
She smiled at him, a bit too brightly. "Nuh-uh. We're done."
"I'm a criminalist. Virginia Elliott. Cut the crap."
She bit her lip, and he was suddenly worried by the fact that she seemed genuinely upset. He was beginning to feel that he shouldn't push it, but she sighed and opened the folio again. As he looked down, he could sense her looking for reassurance from her mother, who shifted slightly and took her hand.
Nick reached the point where they had last been looking, and flipped the page. The photograph immediately hit him in the stomach, as if his insides had dissolved. It was stark and brutal, a hole in the ground gaping like an open mouth up at the lens. Nick's jaw set, and he could feel beads of sweat forming along his hairline. The next photograph was taken from the inside the hole, staring up at the sky, the walls of the hole creating a natural frame closing in on the edges, looming over the viewer. The bed shifted beside him, and he felt Beth move closer to him. He turned the page again, and had to close his eyes. It was Ginny, although her face was blurred, streaked with mud as she lay in the ground, her tortured self-portrait taken with a cable release.
"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered. "After you were... taken... I went through a phase."
He looked at her, unable to speak.
"I couldn't understand what it must have felt like for you. I was scared that you really were dead, that Mom and Dad were just lying when they said they had seen you in the hospital..." she broke off, and took a deep breath to try and compose herself. "So I did these... to try and get over it."
Nick looked back down at the pages, and slowly zipped the portfolio shut, as if he was physically putting them away from him. "They're good, Ginny." He looked back up at her. "Freaky, but good."
He took her into his arms, and he could feel her tears dampen his sleeve. He looked to Beth and she gave him a poignant smile.
"My art teacher wanted me to put them in the school exhibition, but the principal tried to stop her. He said they were grotesque and morbid."
"Bet you didn't stand for that." Nick chuckled.
"I told him life was grotesque and morbid. And mom and dad threatened to sue."
This made Nick laugh even more, and he hugged Ginny tighter.
"She won second prize," Beth said proudly.
Nick pulled Ginny away from him so he could look her in the eyes. "Only second?"
Ginny grimaced. "Some ditz went to a day care centre and took cutesy shots of the kids playing on the jungle gym."
"High school politics never change." Nick smiled.
"You're... not mad?" Ginny asked hesitantly.
"No, honey, I could never be mad," Nick said honestly. "But we'll hide those ones from Greg. I don't think he needs any reminders at the moment."
"He must have been really scared that day." Ginny crossed her legs and hugged them into herself.
"He was. But he was brave."
"I don't think I would have been, if I'd been there," Ginny admitted.
"I was bad enough at the hospital." Beth nodded.
"You were as stoic as ever," Nick told her.
"That you saw." Beth frowned.
"I don't remember much of that first evening." Nick said softly. "Just, being glad you guys were there... wishing that I could see Greg alone."
"Yeah, well had we known, we could have let you guys be alone," Beth said, a little more harshly than she intended.
Nick looked up at her, but neither had any anger reflected in their eyes. "Well, there are a lot of things I regret now."
"No need for regret," Beth advised him.
"When did you know you first liked Greg?" Ginny asked to break the tension but also because she was genuinely interested.
Nick grinned down at her. "You're the first one to ever really ask me that. Other than Greg, of course."
Beth whacked him. "I just never thought you would tell me! Believe me, I have a thousand questions."
"So how did you know?" Ginny prompted him again.
Nick seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment. "Well, there was always something between us. We just seemed like friends, good friends. He was always trying to prove himself to the rest of the team, but he didn't have to. He was exceptional at his job. But there was one day, when he brought in some results, and he had cracked a major clue to the case... and he just gave me this look, and I knew."
"So was that when you got together?" Ginny asked.
Beth snorted. "They're men, Ginny. It would have taken ages for them to stop avoiding the obvious."
"Shut up, Beth."
"Is she wrong?" Ginny asked, a twinkle in her eyes.
"How long afterwards?" Beth demanded, knowingly. Evilly.
Nick sighed. "A year and a half."
Mother and daughter burst out laughing, and rolled around on the bed.
"I... told... you..." Beth struggled to regain her composure.
"I'm going now." Nick started to get off the bed, but two sets of arms grabbed him and forced him down between them.
"Sorry, Uncle Nick."
He was touched by her slip of the tongue. She hadn't called him uncle for a couple of years now, so he decided to reward her and give in. "Do you want me to keep telling you these intimate details of my life or not?"
"This is probably our only opportunity to get it out of him," Beth whispered to her daughter. "Agree! Agree!"
"Agreed!" howled Ginny, collapsing into giggles.
"So, one and a half years later..." Beth prodded Nick.
"We were still in exactly the same place we had always been. Bantering. Touching each other just a little more than most people would. Then the lab exploded while Greg was still in it."
Ginny sobered, catching her breath. She sat up and stared at her uncle. "Exploded? How?"
"A co-worker left a chemical exposed that she shouldn't have." Nick swallowed, still trying not to give in to the wave of bitterness against Catherine that could surface instantly whenever he thought back to that time. He knew logically that it was an accident, but the heartfelt part of him still jumped to the fear and loss he had experienced. "It reacted to a heat source, and Greg was caught in the middle of it."
Ginny was definitely more subdued as she crept in closer to Nick. "How badly hurt was he?"
"Not as bad as it could have been, but still pretty bad. He has scarring on his back from burns."
"So was that when..."
"Yeah." Nick gave a heavy sigh. "When something like that happens, it makes you take stock of things, you know? I helped him by staying with him, and... well, it just happened from there."
"How did everyone at work take it?" Ginny asked. Beth stayed silent, as she knew most of the story by now, and let her daughter take the lead in the questioning.
"We didn't tell anyone."
"No one?" Ginny asked in disbelief.
"Not one."
"Why? Were you ashamed?"
"Never of Greg. Never of us," Nick said quickly. "Just... it was awkward. With work, I was technically his supervisor as he was making the move out of the lab and into CSI work. We didn't want to jeopardise anything."
"What about us?" Ginny looked at her mother as if she could answer it as well.
"I don't have an easy answer for that." Nick winced. "I'm... not good at opening up to people, Ginny."
"Then what was it about Greg that made you open up to him?"
Nick gave a low laugh. "When you get to know him better, Ginny, you'll realise that he's hard to resist."
She sent him a broad smile. "Yeah?"
"You know, Baby Stokes... I like this new, improved, open you." Beth ribbed him.
"Don't get used to it," Nick warned her.
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "No, let him stick around."
"But after the explosion... what made you tell Greg you liked him? Or did he tell you?"
Nick hesitated, and Beth poked him. "Come on..."
"I took a few days off work, telling Grissom somebody needed to look out for Greg. As he was like me, with no family in Vegas, Grissom thought it was a good idea. Greg was still pretty zonked out on the meds, and I had to change his bandages for him. He... was pretty vulnerable. One night I just couldn't stand it any longer... and I just leaned in and kissed him."
Ginny was all agog. "What happened next?"
"PG-13 version!" Beth yelled, and her daughter looked back at her.
"Mom, Greg was recovering from an explosion. I doubt there was any..."
Nick continued speaking before his face was as red as Ginny's suitcase by the side of the bed. "He asked me what I was doing. I told him something that I had wanted to do for ages."
"Then what?" Ginny asked, impatient with the all-too-frequent pauses.
Now Nick found himself blushing. "He kissed me."
"Awww," Ginny and Beth said in unison.
"Then he fell asleep," Nick continued.
The women sat back, disappointed.
"He was on meds!" Nick said, defensively.
"How come you never moved in together?" Beth asked. "I'm sure in all that time you were practically living together anyway."
Nick shrugged. "Keeping up appearances."
"Until..." Ginny began, then cut herself off.
Nick's eyes grew distant. "Yeah. You can say it, Ginny. No sense pretending it didn't happen."
"Until you were kidnapped," Ginny said firmly, as if it were an incantation exorcising a demon of her own.
"Until I was kidnapped," Nick repeated, as if taking on her mantra. "After something like that, you can't help but reassess everything again."
"Everything was bound to come out after that." Ginny tried to sound sage, then realised what she said. "Uh, no pun intended."
Nick, however, was amused. "It still took a few months, but one morning I woke up... felt a lot better than I had in a while. Most people at work knew by then, and I woke up Greg and asked him if he wanted to go looking for a new place of our own."
"I bet he thought he was still asleep." Beth chuckled.
Nick nodded. "Until I threw him under the shower head. On cold water." He got lost in memory, remembering Greg's shocked scream from the spray then turning into a pleasured whoop as he realised what Nick had asked him. That it wasn't a dream.
"That would have been when they had sex," Ginny whispered helpfully to her mother.
"I would hope they would have done it before then, seeing it was more than two years after they started going out." Beth replied, to outdo her daughter in the mock-embarrassment stakes.
"I'm in the room!" Nick protested. "God, I hope I'm dreaming right now."
"Nick, this is sharing. It's what most people do."
"Well, I really don't want to know about your sex life. As far as I'm aware, you and Tony have only done it once."
"I'm in the room!" It was now Ginny's turn to protest.
Beth deftly covered her daughter's ears and mocked Nick with, "We had to try many, many times to get this one."
Ginny howled with anguished adolescent agony, and Nick burst out laughing.
"Nick Stokes, doing the girl talk," Greg drawled from the doorway, looking down upon the three of them with bemusement. "And me without my camera."
Ginny wrestled herself out from under her mother and uncle's grasp, and held up Barney, who was still attached to her wrist. "Lucky I've got mine."
Greg gave her an evil, collaborative smile. "I'll restrain him."
Nick's eyes widened as Greg covered the room in two easy bounds and threw himself behind his partner, wrapping his arms around him and pressing him to his own chest. Nick struggled to break free from the unflattering position and Ginny started snapping away madly.
It was hard for Jillian and Bill not to hear the four choruses of laughter ringing down the stairway and floating into the kitchen as they sat across from each other at the table drinking coffee. Bill smiled at his wife, and reached for her hand, smiling tenderly at her while they enjoyed the sounds of happiness from their family above them.***
"You're not telling me something," Bill said, watching his wife carefully.
Jillian had been about to take another sip of her coffee, and she paused, demurely looking up at him over the rim of the mug and then took a swift gulp before 'fessing up. "Nothing gets past you, does it, dear?"
"Oh, I'm sure you get more past me that I should be aware of," Bill admitted shamefacedly, with a small laugh. "But something's happened."
Jillian sighed. "I've put off thinking about – did you hear the kids going on upstairs? It's been the happiest I've heard the house in the past twenty-four hours. I just don't want to wreck that."
Bill fixed his best sentencing gaze upon her. "Spill it."
She reached inside the pocket of her jeans and slapped a folded envelope upon the table. "Laura left me a letter."
Bill tried not to react judgementally. "Uh huh. What did it say?"
"I haven't read it." Jillian shrugged.
"Too busy?" Bill asked with an attempt at levity.
She shook her head. "I've been too scared of what it might say."
"That's not like you."
"Okay, I'm too scared of what I might do if it says what I think it says," she admitted.
"Now, that's like you."
She slapped at the hand that held his mug, and he almost spilled coffee on himself.
Bill picked up the envelope and studied it closely. "It's only addressed to you. I wonder why?"
"Because I'm her mother," Jillian replied simply.
"And?" Bill prodded.
"A mother is always meant to accept her children, no matter what they do."
"Truly?" Bill looked as if he wouldn't be able to accept that same truth about fathers, he was so upset himself at the moment.
"Well, they're meant to. Eventually." Jillian gave an uncertain smile. "I'm pretty pissed at the moment though, so she's pushing her luck."
"I won't deny I had... reservations... when Nick told us. But you only had to look at the way he interacted with Greg to know it was real. And who could find fault with that, when you get down to it?" Bill stood and went to the sink to rinse out his cup. It was a habit that Jillian only managed to instill in him successfully after forty-seven years of marriage. She sighed as he left the mug in the sink instead of putting it into the dishwasher, hoping that extra step wouldn't take another forty-seven years.
"Who indeed?" Jillian murmured, looking down at the envelope again.
--------------------
Even though Ginny felt that she had taken enough shots of her uncles, and placed Barney back on the chest of drawers, Nick remained lying against Greg as the four of them continued to make idle conversation. He felt a secret thrill at being able to do this, being comfortable enough so that for perhaps the first time ever he didn't have any worries about such an open display of affection.
As he had suspected, Greg and Ginny were a true meeting of the minds. They fired obscure pop culture references at one another, delighting in the challenges they posed as they became more and more arcane while Nick and Beth were united in affectionate eye-rolling admiration.
"Where the hell is my grilled cheese?" Greg bellowed as Ginny struggled to catch her breath from laughing too hard.
"Are any of you coming down for lunch?" Bill asked from the doorway.
This would have been the time for Nick to panic, lying against his partner with Greg's arm wrapped securely around his waist. Sure, Bill and Jillian had been to see them in Vegas, but they had been on guard against showing more than the merest of loving touches... nothing this comfortable. Bill's eyes flicked over all of them in turn, but there was no difference in them as his eyes made contact with theirs.
"And Greg, if you want one that badly, I am sure we could whip up a grilled cheese," Bill said.
"He was quoting The Simpsons, Pop." Ginny explained, snapping a photo of her grandfather. He gave her the same exact withering glance Nick had earlier.
"Grilled cheese does sound good though," Greg said amiably, as all four of them pushed off the small double bed they had been sprawled on and filed past Bill on their way out the room.
As Nick passed his father, Bill briefly rested his hand on his son's shoulder and was rewarded with a huge smile. Nick slowed slightly just to feel that paternal pressure for a little longer, before he slipped down the stairs.
---------------------------
The absence of Laura was more than countered by the presence of Ginny and made for a much more amiable and boisterous lunch table. Ginny flourished under the attention of her uncles, and cooed scarily over Marcie's stomach.
When Gray teased her about it, she responded coolly with, "I'm not a teenage character on a soap; I like kids, but I don't want to have any, yet."
Marcie grinned over her huge stomach, which Ginny was still stroking. "A fact for which I'm sure your mother is eternally grateful."
"There's no way I'm ready to be a grandmother." Beth wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. "I don't even want to let Ginny go to college."
"She's only going to A&M, so she can still live at home," Tony teased.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "No way!"
"There's nothing wrong with A&M." Nick felt an irrational flush of collegiate pride rushing to the surface.
"No, nothing except that all of you went there," Ginny sighed.
"Where would you rather go?" Greg asked.
She sat back in her chair and picked up her fork again. "I really don't know. But isn't part of the whole college experience actually getting away from home?"
Not wanting to mortally offend Beth or Tony, everybody suddenly became very interested in their plates or their mugs.
"Chickens," Ginny hissed. She prodded Nick with the end of her fork. "Maybe I should go to the University of Nevada, move in with you guys and cramp your style."
"We don't have enough time to have any style to cramp," Nick responded to the idle threat.
"Speak for yourself," Greg said, offended. He scrutinised Ginny closely. "Can you clean?"
Beth brandished her knife ominously. "Don't encourage her."
"But, Beth!" Greg protested. "Indentured servitude!"
"You haven't seen her room at home," Tony laughed.
Ginny narrowed her eyes at her father, and turned back to Greg. "For free board and food, we could work something out."
"Aww, it's like we've adopted a puppy," Greg nudged Nick.
He had to duck the bread roll that flew across the table at him.
Jillian clapped her hands. "No food fights at the table!"
"Save it for Christmas Day," Bill reprimanded them.
"You've bit off more than you can chew now," Gray warned Greg.
Greg shrugged, and started buttering the roll that had been used as a weapon against him. "She appears housebroken."
"He's insufferable!" Ginny railed at Nick.
Her uncle smiled at her, and then looked at Greg affectionately. "Yeah, he is."
Greg savagely bit into his roll, and resisted the urge to kick Nick under the table, but his brain smiled back. And Nick knew it, too, judging by the extra crinkling around his eyes.
As dishes were cleared and coffee brewed they had slipped into comfortable conversation and were quiet enough to hear the sound of car doors slamming.
Marcie clapped her hands together. "Fresh meat!"
Greg shot Nick a quick glance, and Nick was alarmed to see a flash of panic there. As the rest of the family exited the kitchen, babbling almost to the point of incomprehensibility he sidled up to his boyfriend and rubbed his back. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just... nothing."
"Don't do that," Nick drawled. "Talk to me."
"I guess just after the whole Laura thing I'm a bit worried."
Nick kissed him tenderly. "Yeah, I can't help but think the same way. But you'd be telling me not to let it get to me. So just pretend you're me and I'm you making me feel better."
Greg smirked. "That made no sense."
"Then you don't even have to pretend I'm you, then."
"Hey!" Marcie said from the doorway. "You guys coming, or not?"
"Is it your shift, Marcie?" Greg asked, an eyebrow cocked.
"To keep an eye out on you guys? Yep, Gray relieves me in an hour."
"Funny." Nick gave her belly a gentle poke as he squeezed past her.
"There's a roster, and everything. I can get you a copy if you like." She waited for Greg to pass her, and gave him a smile before following them out.
Immediately Nick broke out in a huge grin when he saw his two remaining sisters spill out of Kat's SUV. Kat's husband Steve was fussing around in the backseat, releasing the kids from their imprisonment.
"Look who we picked up on the way," Kat announced, as Jess almost knocked Jillian down with an effusive hug.
"We were getting worried about you!" Bill chided Jess as he stole her away from her mother.
"Well, Kat and Steve offered to give me a lift if they detoured through Fort Worth," Jess explained matter-of-factly.
"Too cheap to drive yourself?" Gray teased as he embraced her.
"I hate long car journeys by myself," Jess reminded him.
"So she would rather be squeezed in the back with the terrible twosome," Steve grimaced as the twins roughly pushed past him screaming for their grandparents. Winded, he smiled as Kat patted his shoulder with the genial temperament of a fellow sufferer.
"You need an iPod if you're going to do that," Ginny informed her aunt.
Jess hugged her, then quickly unzipped her jacket slightly so Ginny could take in the tell-tale white earbuds hanging in the inner pocket. Ginny gave her the thumbs-up, and Jess moved onto her younger brother. She sized him up, sighed, and hugged him tightly.
"Hey," she breathed, the simple word saying roughly twelve sentences.
"Hey," he responded, in kind.
Satisfied he seemed okay, she allowed Kat to take her place in the greeting line and moved on to hug Greg warmly.
"Nick, he's even skinnier than the last time I saw him!" she scolded her brother.
"I've been working out!" Greg protested.
"Really?" she stepped back and sized him up, then gave him a tiny wink.
"Believe me, he eats," Nick said.
Kat gave him a pinch on the waist. "So do you, by the looks of it. Middle-age spread hitting you early?"
"Oh, you are so dead," he hissed, as his hand was slapped in a friendly salute by Steve, who was then gone just as fast to greet Greg the same way.
Jess moved on to torment Marcie and her stomach, and Kat turned to look at her kids, who were still entertaining their grandparents and cousin. "Max! Allison! Come here!"
Nick shot a quick look at Greg, who remained frozen to the spot, knowing that it was up to him to be strong for the two of them at this certain moment of time. Nick felt he had already dealt with and moved on from Mark's accusations, and it burned him even more that Greg was still feeling the strain of them.
The two six-year olds skidded to a stop in front of them. "Hey, Uncle Nick!" they chorused.
He crouched on the ground to be at equal height with them, and drew them into a hug. "Hey, guys. Long time, no see."
"Mom said you were buried in a box," Max sung out.
If it had been a movie, this would have been the time for a lonely tumbleweed to blow forebodingly across the set. The entire family paused, and Nick was uncomfortably aware of all the attention focused upon him.
"Well, yeah. But I obviously got out, right?"
Max shrugged, and Allison whacked him. "Dummy."
"Oh, she's the keeper," Steve said in an aside to Greg, and he couldn't help grinning.
The kids then turned as a unit to stare at Greg, and he couldn't help feeling as if he was trapped in a modern-day Texan version of Village of the Damned.
"Who are you?" Allison asked.
"Uh..." Greg croaked, suddenly put on the spot.
Steve came to his rescue as Allison pouted and asked, "Uhhh?" as if she thought Greg was trying to pass it off as his name.
"This is your Uncle Greg," he reminded her, "Remember? We talked about him."
We talked about him. Simultaneously, Nick and Greg's stomachs dropped as they wonder exactly what that conversation entailed. They had become a thing to discuss.
Everybody was still watching them, while pretending they weren't. None of them were fooled, particularly the two men who looked as if they were ready to bolt.
"Oh, yeah," Allison nodded. She looked back at Greg, and shyly offered her hand. "Hello."
Bemused, Greg shook it. "Hello, Allison."
Allison looked back at her brother, who hung back slightly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
"Hi," Max said shyly.
"Hi," Greg grinned.
The two of them stared up at him, and Greg stared back. It wasn't a stand-off, it was just that none of them knew how to take in the stranger/strangers in front of them. Greg guessed it was just going to be a matter of time.
"I want a Coke," Max said, decisively.
This broke the ice. Jillian immediately stepped forward and started ushering everybody inside, while Kat wailed about tooth decay issues.
"It's Christmas," Bill told her, pushing her inside. "Besides we did our job with you guys, we get to spoil yours now," he added with a wicked grin.
Greg and Nick remained standing together in the front garden, watching everybody disappear into the house.
"That was... weird," Greg said, for lack of a better word.
"It went better than I thought," said Nick, ever the optimist.
Greg looked at him. "I'm freaking out!"
Nick laughed. "Why?"
"Three days ago, I was Greg Sanders, CSI, waist deep in Lake Mead, pulling body parts out of a half-submerged Cadillac... today I am Uncle Greg, and I have no idea of what I'm doing! I've never been an uncle! I have no siblings... all my cousins are in Norway... now I have these new responsibilities, there are kids that are suddenly seeing me in this authoritarian light... and I don't know what to do!"
"Newsflash, Greg!" Nick guided him up the steps and to the porch-swing, where he sat and physically pulled Greg down with him. "Nobody knows what to do! It's not like they gave me a book when I became an uncle! You just have to... feel your way through it."
"Like a crime scene?"
"Yes, you should treat your nieces and nephews like a crime scene," Nick rolled his eyes. "Greg, just take it as it comes. You have an unnatural charm with people. You've had no problem with Ginny. Allison and Max are no different."
"They're not people!" Greg protested.
Nick raised an eyebrow.
"They're... little people," Greg said weakly.
"I guarantee you... maybe not today, but probably by tomorrow, you will have them eating out of your hand. And you out of theirs. I know you. You'll do great."
The front door creaked open, and Ginny stuck her head out. "Jillian The Great said to haul ass to the kitchen."
"She did not say haul ass," Greg reprimanded her.
"That was my translation." Ginny poked out her tongue and slammed the door behind her.
"See!" Nick laughed, pulling him to his feet and hugging him close. "You're a natural."***
Next part of Don't Fence Me In.
- Main CSI page
- The new stories
- Gil/Greg stories
- Gil/Nick stories
- Gil/Warrick stories
- Nick/Greg stories
- Nick/Warrick stories
- Greg/Warrick stories
- Nick/Bobby stories
- Jim Brass stories
- David Hodges stories
- f/f stories
- CSI: New York stories
- CSI: Miami stories
- Other pairings & threesomes
- Gen CSI stories
- C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation: The Complete Ninth Season