Title: Fug
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 42088
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes and some familiar and unfamiliar faces along the way
Warnings: AU and fluff!!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Unbeta-ed: All mistakes will be mine.

***

It had been about four months.  And he was rapidly approaching the end of his tether; he couldn't pinpoint an actual source, it was just an accumulation of everything.  But, of one thing he was absolutely certain; he couldn't go on like this, he needed some respite.

They'd been a couple for three years and four months.  For nearly two of those years no one knew about them, and they'd been good years.  Then Walter Gordon had changed all that.  They'd had to deal with the fallout from that; Nick's health had been severely compromised by the toxins in his system and the physical recovery had taken about six weeks; a physically weak man would have died. 

His mental health had been worse.  How did anyone cope with the aftermath of that?  Gil didn't know, he couldn't imagine.  He'd always been a practical man; he wasn't given to flights of fancy or imagination.  He liked facts and evidence.  He knew the fact that it had happened and he could see the evidence of Nick's complete breakdown; but he didn't know how to deal with it.  But he had; he'd stumbled through it and was just 'there', when Nick needed him.

He supposed it had worked because Nick did recover and he had healed and there were only very little remnants left of the twenty fours hours when he was buried alive.  But Gil believed it was Nick who'd made himself better, not Gil himself, and he believed he'd not made any significant contribution to Nick's recovery.

Then they'd had to deal with fallout from the gay relationship that was exposed.  In truth because of Walter Gordon it had been made easier.  No one could deny Nick needed a partner to be by his side and help him overcome the trauma, and if that partner was a man, then so be it.  But that it was Gil had made caused ripples and waves to reverberate around the PD for some months.

An investigation of Gil had ensued, not Nick...he was exonerated because of Walter Gordon.  But Gil had endured possible dismissal and demotion and months of examination that made him appreciate how his bugs felt when he pawed over them and their ordered little lives.

Gil's life, that had always been so ordered had become spectacularly disordered; he couldn't escape the scrutiny and, even worse, the smug bastard that was Conrad Ecklie. It had eventually calmed down when no one could find a shred of evidence that pointed to any compromised work.

But relationships had been soured.  Sara was the worst; she felt that Gil had deliberately enticed her to Vegas with a promise of a relationship.  She'd had wedding bells ringing in her ears for years.  Gil had honestly never entertained the idea.  He'd had women in the past, but his inclination definitely lay in the direction of men.

Catherine had been hurt; she'd considered herself a friend.  She was his friend, but he would never have confided any secrets to her; she would give him her 'expert' opinion and tell what him to do, since she viewed him as incompetent when it came to interpersonal skills.  She was right, but he still wouldn't want her to order him around; especially given her track record in the relationship stakes, that would have been an act of supreme hypocrisy on her part...but she would tried.

Warrick had run the gamut of emotions, the guilt of the 'survivor', when Nick had been abducted and incarcerated.  The disappointment when he'd learned he'd been excluded from the knowledge of the relationship.  And not only that, but the discovery that his best friend was gay, when he'd been extolling his heterosexual virtues for years.  He seemed okay with it now, though.

Greg had been the least fazed of all of them; at least it seemed that way.  Gil liked Greg a great deal, he thought of him as he thought he would a son.  Proud of his achievements, his intellect; in truth he was disappointed with Greg's transition to the field.  He knew Greg was more suited to the lab with his outstanding scientific abilities rather with the collection of evidence.  He was waiting for Greg to realise this and revert back to his earlier role.  Maybe he would...eventually.  Maybe he wouldn't.

The rest of the staff had had differing reactions, including the staggering behaviour of Hodges, who although (Gil believed) was straight was insanely jealous of Nick.  He seemed to truly believe that only he possessed the intellect to make, and keep, Gil truly happy.

It appeared that no one had thought Gil capable of physical passion.  If it hadn't been that Nick was a man at the height of his physical attraction, many would have believed for sure, that they were celibate.  But with Nick exuding that sexual power, few could hold onto that belief.  It used to make Gil laugh, but now it irritated him.  Together, they had an extraordinarily sensual and fulfilling sex life.

It was the one thing that hadn't suffered and now Gil was questioning whether it was, after all, the basis of their relationship and not a by-product of their togetherness.  Did they love the sex and stay together just because of it?  Or did they love each other and because of that they then had great sex?  Gil couldn't solve the puzzle; but what he was sure of, absolutely, was that it wasn't a puzzle at all until very recently.

And then there was work.  Gil had always loved work.  He hardly saw it as work.  The supervisory role tended to get in the way, but the puzzle, the evidence gathering, the interest he had was second nature to him and he loved it.  He couldn't quite remember when it had become a chore but it did seem to be quite suddenly and then it seemed that the dissatisfaction had been quietly working its way to the forefront for a long time.

He'd had three migraines in four months, he knew that.  The most he normally had was two a year.  Cases he'd once relished, even if they disgusted him, still provided a puzzle, and if he solved them then all the better, but now he felt as if the dirt and sleaze and degeneration of morals was weighing him down; he'd become conscious of exactly what man does to man, and he wasn't helping, it wasn't getting better.  It was getting worse.  

He knew he was irritable and he knew Nick had made an enormous effort to help him.  He'd given him space, he'd given him massages.  He cooked his favourite foods; he'd made him go out, into the desert for some bright daylight and fresh air.  He'd given him blowjobs that defied description and he'd soothed him physically as much as he could.  And through all of it Gil had been tetchy and mean spirited.

He knew he had, but he couldn't shake himself out of the fug; he'd read that word years ago in a novel and it seemed apt now; a stale atmosphere, as if he was suffocating in the heat for want of a fresh breeze.  Nick had called it for what it was; depression.  He'd begged him to see his doctor and get some chemical help or maybe some therapy.  Gil wouldn't, even though he knew that was probably exactly what he needed, but he didn't want to be told that, by Nick, or by anyone else.

Gil even knew that his behaviour in respect of that was classically depressive, but he couldn't make himself do it.  He just plain would not.

When the invitation had come in, he'd immediately dismissed it, although he hadn't responded as such.  The next day it had looked more attractive and by the next day, he was almost certain he would do it.  A seven week sabbatical away from all of it; work and...work...and work...and...Nick. 

That was it: Nick. 

His Nick; he'd tried so hard but now appeared to be losing his patience and Gil only had himself to blame.  Nick did virtually everything; no, that wasn't true, he did do everything...  He cooked, he cleaned, he shopped, he really did do everything and all Gil could do, was resent him even more.  For doing all the cooking, for all the cleaning, for all of everything.

The matter had come to a head and now Gil was sitting on the deck; his mind made up.  He'd not even mentioned it to Nick but he would and he would go; he wouldn't tell him until it was all planned and in place.  He wouldn't be made to stay through guilt; he'd just go.

Gil had stayed at work to do some follow up on a case he'd been working with Warrick and Catherine.  Nick had successfully completed his case for the shift and headed home.  So when Gil had come in a couple of hours later, Nick was doing the housework.  It hardly needed doing, but Nick liked to 'keep on top of it'.  But he was doing it to some country rock band; 'rockabilly', Gil thought it was called, but it was raising the roof in their home. 

Gil could hear if from when he pulled up his truck on their driveway.  He'd leaned his head on the steering wheel.  Why, oh, why, couldn't Nick like something calm and soothing, something classical maybe, or even something less frenetic and something quieter?  God, even the same music, but quieter.  

When he'd opened the front door, it was even worse.  Nick was vacuuming and singing along.  Gil could almost taste the noise, like bile in his throat.  He'd stalked over to the CD player, even before Nick noticed he was home.  He'd switched it off.  A nanosecond later Nick had stopped singing and a second after that the vacuum cleaner became silent, as it was switched off...

***

The room became exactly the opposite of how it had been; the loud reverberations replaced by a quietness that in itself almost pulsated.

"God, you surprised me, creeping up on me like that.  How's the case going? " 

"Creeping?  For God's sake I could have come in here discharging my gun and you wouldn't have noticed.  Is it absolutely necessary for it to be so loud so, earth shatteringly noisy?"

"I...I..."

"Just as I thought, no excuse."

"What?  What?  Don't be..."

"...oh, come on, you could damage the foundations with that cacophony, not to mention my eardrums.  I don't suppose you give a damn that I've had major surgery on my ears?"

"Give a damn?  You've got a fucking nerve.  You stand there and give me grief over your ears?  Your ears, that no one knew about?  You think I don't care?  Well I care, but I'll tell you something else shall I?  I've just about had it up to here."  He sliced across his neck with his hand.  "I've given you space, I've tried my fucking damndest to help you; to support you.  I do everything for you, for Chrissakes, to give you that space and when I've been on my own in the house you come the almighty on me and complain about the noise.  You weren't even in the fucking house until a minute ago.  You know what?  Do it yourself.  I'm outta here; I could be doing something for myself."

Nick had gone to their bedroom and when he'd emerged a few minutes later and if he even noticed that Gil was still standing in exactly the same position, he said nothing.  He'd changed into clean jeans and a tee and had his gym bag.  He picked up his keys and left the house without a backward glance. 

Gil had left the room as it was and made himself a tea and taken it out onto the deck. He knew what he had to do.  He would take that sabbatical. 

He went to his computer and set the ball in motion.  He accepted the offer from Princeton.  It was far enough away to make a big difference.  The way they lived their lives on the east coast was entirely different. 

When he'd sorted out as much as he could he went to bed, and slept a dreamless, heavy sleep.  A sleep that didn't afford rest.  The alarm woke him up.  That was unusual because he rarely out slept the alarm, either that or Nick would have woken him.  He twisted around in bed after switching off the alarm and was taken aback to see Nick next to him. 

He'd not been disturbed by Nick coming to bed.  Nor, as was customary, was Nick wrapped around him.  Spooned behind him, or lying on his chest or with their legs intertwined.  This Nick was awake and stretching, but on his side with his back to Gil.  A chasm of at least two feet between them in their huge bed.

Neither man spoke and then Nick threw back the bedclothes and got up, walking to the bathroom, without a word or a glance in Gil's direction.  Gil was peeved.  How childish was that?  Well two could play at that game. 

When Gil heard the shower start he, too, got up and went to the bathroom.  He relived his bladder and washed his hands without acknowledging Nick in the shower behind him.  He made his way to the kitchen and noticed that the vacuum cleaner still stood where it had when Nick had left it and the cushions were still displaced where Nick had been vacuuming. 

In the kitchen Gil started the coffee machine; he watched it working for a few minutes, leaning on the counter.  He would make breakfast, which would then serve as a peace offering.  He got all the ingredients out for omelettes with mushrooms and cheese, a favourite of both of them.

He mixed it all and warmed the pan.  The coffee was just about finished, so he got their mugs ready and surveyed the scene.  It was ready to go; he'd go and speak to Nick.  As he came out of the kitchen Nick was coming down the stairs.  Dressed and ready to go to go to work.  Without acknowledging Gil at all, he walked through the living room and out of the front door.  Gil was speechless; actually, he barely had time to gather his thoughts as he watched Nick leave.  It was like a slow motion sequence in a film.

Gil remained standing and looking at the closed front door with his mouth hanging open.  He thought that this was the first time ever, since they had lived together, that they'd hadn't kissed before work.  Nor spoken.  Nor anything else he could think of.  They'd argued a lot recently but they'd always made up; always, always kissed, always, made love, always.

Nick had always apologised, every single time even though nine times out of every ten, make that ninety nine times out of every hundred, it was Gil who'd started it.  Gil had never once said 'sorry', never once taken the blame when Nick had apologised; both of them knowing full well that Gil was the culprit.

Now Gil understood that Nick really had had it up to there.  He gripped his own neck with his own fingers as he recalled what Nick had said and done.  Gil didn't know what to do; he stood there and had no idea, whatsoever, what to do next.

How long he stood there, he couldn't really tell, but later, in the shower, as he thought about it he knew that he should apologise to Nick.  He must say 'sorry'; it had been his fault, this latest row.  All his fault.  Of course, Nick was entitled to listen to whatever he wanted at whatever volume he wanted when Gil was out of the house.  Even if Gil was there, if Gil was really honest with himself.

The house was 'theirs'; they'd sold Nick's condo after Walter Gordon and Nick had lived with Gil in his town house, but it was too small for the two men.  So they'd bought their beautiful new home.  Their combined income and savings had meant that they really could afford somewhere a bit special, and it was; they'd both loved it the moment they'd viewed the property.  A small suburb about thirty minutes from the lab on a good day, but far enough away to be peaceful.

It was furnished mostly from Nick's ideas and flair for a stylish but cosy home.  Nick had done all the work, but Gil had thought it a good project in which to immerse himself, while recovering from his ordeal.  Nick agreed; he had wholeheartedly embraced it, but always consulted Gil on the colours, on the furniture - on everything "“ but all Gil had to  do was agree, because, really, Nick had it all covered.

Gil threw away his prepared food for breakfast and had a bowl of cereal and three mugs of coffee. He was going to apologise at the first opportunity.

As they all arrived at work the reports were coming in of a major fire at a hotel off the strip.  Major damage, major injuries and from the reports, a fair number of fatalities.  No time to apologise.

The fire was indeed a major incident.  The graveyard shift was joined by swing.  As the investigation carried on into daylight, then the day shift joined them.  Gil, Nick and all the rest of team had all done a double before most of the evidence had been collected.  Gil liaised with the fire department and their skilled investigators and the preliminary investigation revealed the source of the fire - shoddy wiring and poor workmanship; it almost guaranteed that there would be manslaughter charges brought, someone would have to pay for the eight people who'd lost their lives.

The bone weary team arrived back at the lab and Gil sent them all home, and he wouldn't be far behind them.  Nick and him had spoken but only about work related matters.

Gil arrived home about, he guessed, thirty minutes after Nick.  He opened the door and the first thing he saw was the vacuum cleaner, still where Nick had left it the day before.  He walked over to it and tidied it up, and rolled it away to the its usual resting place.  He went back into the living room and tidied the cushions.  The lounge looked like normal.

Gil couldn't hear Nick.  He presumed he was in the bathroom, maybe taking a shower.  They'd eaten at work; refreshments had been provided, all night and day by the LVFD, who looked after their men and women.

They had to be at work again in six and half hours, so Gil thought bed was the best place for them both.  He climbed the stairs to their bedroom; it was already in darkness and Nick was in bed.  Gil could make out his shape under the blankets.  Gil stood and watched as the blankets moved up and down.  The movement was rhythmic, it was likely Nick was already asleep, exhausted, he worked hard and had had little rest.  Gil had been able to wander in and out while discussing the case with his FD counterpart.

But, he made the decision not to wake Nick.  He needed to sleep, as did Gil.  He slipped into the bathroom to undress and take a quick shower.  Nick had obviously done the same.  Nick's clothes were strewn around the bathroom floor.  Nick never left his clothes lying around.  Never.

Gil picked them up and put them in the washing basket and then took his own clothes off and did the same.  His shower was very quick.  He was out in five minutes and dried and getting into bed in another three minutes.  He'd forgotten to clean his teeth, but he wasn't getting up again.  He lay down and made a decision.  Nick was asleep, but he would make a conciliatory gesture.

He slipped behind Nick, on his side and spooned; he put his arm around Nick's abdomen.  He was asleep while he was still thinking how wonderful Nick felt.  He'd missed him.

The alarm clock woke them both up with a jolt.  Gil was practically sleeping on top of Nick; as Nick had moved onto his abdomen, so Gil had moved with him and was lying mostly on Nick's back.  They were very hot and sticky from the close contact.  Nick reached over and switched off the alarm and yawned such a fierce yawn that he was in danger of dislocating his jaw.  Gil, equally tired and susceptible to auto suggestion, yawned alongside him.  He fell back onto his back as he did so and stretched out.  He sincerely wished he could remain in bed. 

He then remembered what he should do next...

***

"Nick, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you'd better be."

"I am, I promise."

"Are you going to do something about this, Gil, 'cause you know man, I can't go on like this, you're driving us apart, you do know that don't you?"

The words stung; he'd known they were having some problems, sure, and that they were his fault, but did Nick think he was being driven away?  He probably did after all the shit he'd been throwing at him.

"I don't want to drive you away, Nick...I love you.  It's just...things are...not like they should be, I suppose, I'm off kilter and need to do something about it; I think I have the solution.  I'm going away.  I've arranged a sabbatical..."

"You've done what?"  Nick was suddenly wide awake and sitting up in bed.  "You've done what?  Behind my back?"

"No...no, not like that..."

"You're not going away?

"Well.  Yes I am, but I haven't done it behind your back."

"Did I know about it, did you talk to me about it, you've just said 'it's arranged', which sounds suspiciously like it's a done deal;  I didn't know about it isn't that behind my back?"

"Well, I have accepted the invitation; but I thought you'd relish some time alone, recharge your batteries.  Give you some breathing space."

"Let's get this right; you've got all the problems and you've arranged to go away to give me a chance to calm down.  Me?"  Nick was out of bed now and pacing the bedroom. Gil struggled to sit up.

"Nick, no, it's not like that, it's all come out wrong.  Look, I know I've been a bastard these last months; work has become a chore after so many years loving what I do, I've suddenly found myself disliking, no...hating it, not wanting to do it, and I've been taking out my frustration on you.  I'm sorry.  So when I had this invitation I wasn't going to take it, but after yesterday when you stormed out..."

"...I stormed out?  It is my fucking fault?"  But at least Gil had spoken about what was really wrong for the first time, Nick realised, as he shouted back at Gil.

"No, Nick. Please; please don't twist my words, please."

"I'm finding this fucking hard to take man.  You've never talked about any of this, I've put up with your shit for months and I've tried to help, God knows I have, and you've done nothing, now you're up and leaving just like that.  How the fuck..."  Nick could kick himself as the tears started.  He was furious and he was frightened; was Gil leaving him?  Was this just the beginning of the end?  "...do you think I feel, aren't we supposed to be together...partners."

"Nick, oh, Nick."  Gil got out of bed and caught up with the still pacing Nick.  He stopped him and enveloped him in his arms.

"None of this is your fault.  It's all mine.  I've been the ass here, and I know I've ignored your help.  I've never encountered anything like this in my life before.  I want to put it right.  I don't want to leave you or lose you, you must believe that.  I just thought that a break from work would do us good...do me good."

"A break like Ross and Rachel?"  Nick had relaxed a little in Gil's arms.

"Ross and...I don't know who you're talking about."

"Doesn't matter.  When do you go?  Where?"

"Probably the week after next; but I've still got to square it with Ecklie and the sheriff first.  But it's at Princeton University.  A chance to do some research and take classes for a short time."

"So how long will you be away?"

"Seven or eight weeks."

"Oh man, two months, you're going for two months.  Oh, Gil, how could you?"  Nick tried to push Gil away, but Gil held on for dear life.

"Nick, it'll go in a flash, you know how we're always saying that time goes so fast; this will, I promise."

"We've never been apart.  Not even for a day.  You've never left me before."  Nick's had started to sob into Gil's shoulder.

One thing that was crystal clear to Gil now, with the benefit of hindsight, was that he didn't want to leave Nick; he loved him and wanted him and would be back with him, but he also knew that he needed a break to do exactly as he'd said.  Recharge his batteries.

"I know we haven't been apart and I know that this is not your fault.  I know this.  It is my fault, but I need to go away, Nick.  I need to get away, clear my head.  But one thing isn't negotiable. That's you and me.  I love you and I think going away will just reinforce that love.  Make us stronger.  Make me nicer and easier to live with."

"Not like a Ross and Rachel break then."

"Who are they?  Do I know them?"

"No.  But they took a break and Ross slept with another woman; Ross said they were on a break and he could, Rachel said they were only on a break, and he shouldn't have."

"Well the answer to that is clear.  We are not on a break.  I'm going away and will be back and I will think of no one but you and love no one but you.  I love you and only you."

"Sure as hell feels like you don't, well, didn't."

"I'm so sorry, honey.  You know I feel better all ready.  Knowing I'm going away and will be coming back to you, having missed you for every minute of every day."

"You'd better, that's all I can say."

"I will, I promise.  When I get back, I'll go see the doctor, too, tell him what's happened and see if he thinks I need some therapy.  You'd come with me, wouldn't you?  Hold my hand?"

"Yeah, I would.  Hey, I'm glad I stormed out now, it's brought you to your senses."

"I think you might be right about that, but all this has only happened just now, as I've held you, it's all seems so clear now, what I need to do."

"Gil?"

"Mmm?"

"We're going to be late for work if we don't start getting ready."

"Let's be late then, we deserve it."

"Right. You do need to get away."

"Why do you say that?"

"Being late for work and not bothering?  That's serious, babe."

"Ah, babe.  I am forgiven then."

"Just this once and I mean that, if you ever pull this shit on me again, I tell you I'm going to go ballistic and then some."

"Point taken."

"Normally I'd say let's have some make up sex, but you know I think I'm just too tired, I'm getting on a bit, you know?"

"That's true, any day now I expect to see a grey hair or two."

"Watch it.  I'm the only one allowed to say that."

"Okay.  Shower then?"

"That's good, maybe we could make out."

"Maybe."

The next few days flew past.  Gil applied for, and was given, permission to leave for the sabbatical.  Princeton confirmed the details and flights were booked.  He was going to stay on campus in self-contained rooms reserved for visiting lecturers.

The team took it in different ways.  Sara was secretly very pleased; she took it as an omen that Gil and Nick were drifting apart and she wasn't proud, she'd pick up the pieces with Gil.  Catherine hoped that Gil would get the teaching bug and leave the lab, which would open the way for her to take over the shift.

Warrick was amazed that Gil would leave Nick for that length of time, but Nick seemed to be okay about it, so that was okay by Warrick.  Greg thought that Gil's leaving would give him a chance to do better work; he'd felt so under Gil's influence all the time that he knew he wasn't doing his best work.  This would be his time.

Jim knew there was more to it than met the eye about this little jaunt across the country; but Nick seemed to be taking in his stride, so they must be pretty solid about it.  But Gil had still asked him to keep an eye on Nick.  Jim understood this; Nick was just the most unlucky, accident prone CSI in the country in Jim's book and he didn't want any more shit happening to Nick in Gil's absence...or more shit at any other time for that matter...

Nick took charge of the packing, ensuring Gil had the right clothes; he googled the weather conditions and insisted on a shopping expedition to equip Gil with the appropriate clothing.  The night before he was leaving they had a special meal; they'd both prepared it, Gil did the main course and Nick made a starter and a dessert.

They ate by candlelight on their deck; since their argument about Gil going away, they'd been calmer and happier.  Gil felt healed already and blamed himself for being such an asshole about his feelings.  He should have done what Nick had begged him to do, but he wouldn't.  But the truth of the matter was that he didn't think he would need to do any more about this.  He felt healed, and he was healed.  Nick was happy again and that's what really counted.

He chuckled to himself as he thought that just a few days ago he'd been considering that maybe his future lay without Nick.  He must have been severely compromised; he couldn't imagine how barren his life would be without Nick and he wasn't about to test the theory.

He would miss Nick a great deal.  He almost wished his sabbatical wasn't quite as long as it was.  Four weeks would have been ample time "“ not twice that.  But it was done and they would come back together refreshed and renewed and it would be wonderful.  He was looking forward to coming home to Nick already and he hadn't even left.

"What are you smirking at?"

"Not smirking.  Am I?"

"Sure were, man."

"I was thinking about missing you and getting home and all the sex we'll be having."

"Man, you haven't even gone yet!  We've got to have, 'send you on away with a smile on your face sex yet'."

"Really; now that sounds good.  We've got to work tonight you know that."

"Yep....I've 'phoned Catherine and said we'll be about an hour late, something's come up."

"That's no word of a lie; something has come up; substantially."

"Now, ain't that a coincidence?"

***

They lay in bed and Gil thought he would be unlikely to be able to move for at least...twelve hours? 

Then he remembered that in twelve hours he would probably be in the air flying to Newark.  And all the sitting that entailed...with a sore ass...  And then there was work.  He glanced at the clock...they had about ten minutes leeway for a rest. Nick had set the alarm again and he was dozing beside him...or, judging by the snort just emitted from Nick's mouth as he lay on his back...fast asleep.

Gil could sleep but he didn't want to...he wanted to think about what had happened to him and then to both of them.  He couldn't quite understand how it had happened.  Nick had been right; it was a depressive state and he should have visited his doctor, and yet he did seem to be over it, mostly or even completely, and the catalyst had been this work at Princeton.  As soon as he'd decided to go the fug had lifted and it had been nothing to do with Nick...he knew that now, and should have known it all along...it was work.

The detritus that he was forced to deal with day after day had caught up with him and he knew he had decisions to make.  Not on his own this time, but with Nick.

If he enjoyed being away and came back with a renewed vigour for work then all well and good.  But if he fell into the same state as he had done then for the sake of his sanity and, of course, his relationship with Nick, then changes would have to be made.  It didn't unduly worry him as he had offers of work all the time; although not necessarily in Las Vegas.

A loud snort woke Nick enough for him to turn onto his side facing Gil.  Gil smiled at him; what an idiot he'd been with Nick.  How could he have thought for one moment that his problem was with Nick?  He moved slightly to adjust his ass...

Mostly it was Gil who penetrated Nick...probably about seventy percent of the time because Nick preferred it, but when the tables were turned Gil was always reminded how much he enjoyed it and how considerate and consuming Nick was with him.

One of the most surprising things about their relationship was the physicality of it...Gil liked sex, he thought, as much as the next man, but he'd never been consumed by sex.  He wasn't driven to find sexual gratification by means other than his own hand and had never slept around.  But once they'd got together he, they, were almost insatiable for weeks...months.  And it remained with them...maybe not at their original pace...but with very nearly a daily encounter of some kind.

Even after Walter Gordon.  At first Gil had been surprised and then worried that Nick had wanted the intimacy even while recovering from the toxic onslaught of the ants.  But he'd come to realise that Nick needed it...to reconnect, to remind him of the good things in life and not let the time in the coffin override everything else.  That was only hours...he had his life to live.

The alarm sounded, making Gil jump slightly; he must have been drifting off to sleep, and Nick groaned and reached for it and switched it off.

"I've got to get up straight away or I'll never get up."  Nick yawned as he finished and then looked at Gil.  "Hope your ass remembers the good time..."

"...have no fear.  It does."

"And stay out of Catherine's way or she'll know what we've been doing."

"She'll know anyway."

"Yeah."  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  "Going to miss you..."

"I know.  I really do think it will be a good thing for me, Nick.  If I feel the same way about work, when I get back, then I might look around for something else to do."

"Yeah, I thought that.  You could do seminars and write and provide expert testimony.  Teach.  You've got a lot of options."

Gil smiled.  How typical of Nick to have thought the same things he'd thought.  "I have, I thought that."

"You might have to be away for a few days here and there...but that's not seven weeks."

"No."

"What about the training facility for CSI's here in Vegas?  I know you do guest lectures and helped out when they were really short of staff."

"I hadn't thought about that...that's a good idea."

"I'm full of them.  But making love like that and then going to work was not one of them."  He grinned at Gil as he made his way to the bathroom.

"I would disagree."

"Then you face up to Catherine...and probably the rest of the shift."

"As you say, Nick, no probs, man!"

Nick stopped and looked back at Gil.  "Now why does that worry me?"

"I have no idea, my love."  Gil sounded fairly innocent but was grinning lasciviously. 

"Wipe that grin off your face and get in the shower."

Gil got up and followed Nick into the bathroom, grimacing a little at his sore ass. He might love anal intercourse but it did have its drawbacks.  But there again...it was well worth the mess and discomfort.

At work, as predicted, Catherine was over them like a rash.

"I would like to have an hour off for a sex session."

"Then I'm sure it can be arranged."  Gil replied pleasantly.

"Oh, and you'll find me a suitable partner as well?"

"I might not be able to go that far...I doubt that my idea of a suitable partner for you would be your idea of suitable."

"And what, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"Exactly, what I said."

"Yeah, well.  I'm glad to see your head is out of your ass where it's been stuck for the last few months, but it looks to me like you've got something else up it now."

Nick, who'd been standing behind Gil, quietly, spluttered, and left with a, 'see ya'.

"Not anymore, Catherine, not anymore."  He smirked and she laughed.  "Do you want to do the hand over now?"

"Sure. I guess you'll have left most everything for me to do."

"Of course."  He smiled.

The handover went well and it was a quiet Friday night...a rarity.  So Nick was able to take Gil home on time, to shower...and have a last blow job...and then get ready to leave.  His flight left at eleven thirty that morning but with a stop-over in Philadelphia and with the time difference it would be a long day for Gil.

As he loaded up Nick's truck he thought of something; he went back into the house.

"Nick, honey, may I ask you a big favour?"  From Gil's tone of voice Nick knew he wouldn't like it, whatever it was.

"Try me."  And Gil knew from Nick's response that he was skating on thin ice.

"Will you just drop me off at the airport and not come inside?"

Nick wanted to complain but he thought it was probably a good idea since neither of them liked public displays of affection and Nick was quite likely to tear up.  But he wasn't giving up that easily.

"Why?"

"Because I can think of nothing more depressing than walking through to departures and looking back at your face."

"You think my face is depressing?"  Nick smiled a little.

"It will be watching me walk away."

"Yeah.  I know.  Okay.  Bye then."  He stood in front of Gil and smiled, wanly; it didn't reach his eyes and they looked as if tears were a heartbeat away.

Gil smiled at his puppy dog expression. "Bye, then."  But he held his arms open and Nick walked the half a step into them and put his head on his shoulder.

"No looking at any other men...or women."

"Nor you."  Gil smiled as he smelled Nick's hair.

"I won't.  But you attract people like flies 'round a decomp."

"I do not."

"Huh.  All those students and professors, just be careful is all I'm saying."

"I will.  And you."

"I'm going to be at work all the time...see if I can beat Sara in the overtime stakes.  Get the money together for a new laptop."

"Oh?"  Gil was concerned about that, he knew Nick wanted a new laptop and he was going to buy him one when he got back.  "I wanted to go looking with you."

"I can look on the net...you can see what I like."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"Don't sound so happy about it...what's got into you?"

"I was going to buy you one when I got back...as a present."

"Were you?"  Nick grinned as he pulled away from Gil's shoulder and looked into his face.  "I can still let you buy it then...I'll wait 'til you get back."

"It's a deal."  Gil looked serious and he hugged Nick tight again.  "I wish I wasn't going now.  No, that's not true.  I wish I wasn't going for so long."

"Well, I could come and visit with you in Princeton or meet up somewhere between?"

"Yes." Gil smiled.  "I would love that.  We could look for a laptop."

"You think?  I was thinking we could stay in bed the whole time."

"We would need to eat."

"In bed."

"Fresh air?"

"Open a window."

"You have it planned out already?"

"I'll book the time off.  Seven weeks.  Two weekends?"

"If you can get the time off.  Two weekends."  Gil had wanted to mention this before but had been a little worried that Nick wouldn't want to travel on his own.  For some odd reason, Nick didn't particularly like air travel.  "Will you be okay..."

"...sure.  I'll be coming to see you."

"Okay, time to go."

They kissed, passionately, and Gil broke away for Nick breathless.  "That's why you can't come into the airport.  Look."  He bucked his hips towards Nick and his erection was very visible through his pants.

"You old horn dog.  Love you.  Take care."

"Love you, honey.  You take care, too."

***

It was very late when Gil was shown to his rooms.  He undressed, took a shower and got straight into bed without emptying his suitcase.  He'd texted Nick regularly throughout his journey and had texted his good night and love before he switched off his cell and fell asleep.

The next day, Sunday, he was very busy, organising himself and familiarising himself with everything domestic.  On the Monday he was very busy being organised...security passes, keys, guided tour.  On Tuesday he was very busy getting his research under way, taking his first class and meeting his students.  On Wednesday he thought he was organised and fairly well settled.  Still tired from his first hectic few days but he felt he was on top of things.

It started on Thursday evening.  He got it after nine o'clock having been working and then stopping for a meal on the way back to his rooms.  He got indoors and toed of his shoes and he sat down and just felt off kilter.  Not quite right.  Just like before.  He put it down to tiredness after the travel and hectic few days he'd just had.  He showered, got ready for bed and then texted Nick, who was still asleep back in Vegas, and settled down to sleep.

On Friday morning he still had the niggling little feeling and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.  As he walked to his first class he suddenly knew what it was.  He stopped on the sidewalk and groaned. This was exactly the way it had started all those months ago.  The feelings...  He was developing another fug...

He walked on and thought about it...it couldn't possibly be the work.  He'd only done three days and he was very interested and already involved.  It was definitely the work in Las Vegas.  So what was different?  By the time he arrived at the building where he was working for another six weeks he knew what it was.

Nick.

He was missing Nick. Time differences and their work patterns meant they'd only had a few snatched phone calls.  They'd had to rely on texting.  And that wasn't any good to chat about what he was doing, how he was doing it, who he'd met and what they were like.  The professors, the lecturers, the students.  He had formed a few opinions about some of them and longed to discuss that and his work and how his research was going and what he was eating and...everything...with Nick.

At least he knew this time around what was wrong and he would have to put up and shut up but at least over the weekend he could probably talk to Nick a lot more than he had done.  That would make him feel better, he was sure, and he could find out when Nick was intending to visit with him.  It was not going to be this weekend but he hoped to God it would be the next.

He took a deep breath and entered his building.  By the end of his working day he'd decided that he was okay when he was at work concentrating on work.

He had work to do and instead of going to his rooms he stayed at the university offices and marked work there and checked his research.  It was only when his stomach rumbled loudly causing another lecturer in the same room to laugh that he realised he'd eaten nothing since lunch.

He would go to a restaurant and have a steak.  That was his plan and then go home to bed.  As he left the office he cell buzzed with an incoming call and it was Nick.  He sighed, quite exaggeratedly at the relief at seeing his name come up on the display and he answered immediately.

"Honey?"

"Yeah.  You okay?"

"No..."

"...no?"

"I'm missing you so much; it kind of hit me this morning...or last night.  I was lonely...not lonely because I was alone, per se, but because you just weren't there."

"You know what you're missing then?"

"You know I do.  I'm so pleased just to hear your voice.  How have you been, are you taking care of yourself, eating right...sleeping?"

Nick laughed.  "Of course I am.  Working hard too...got in nineteen hours of overtime since you left.  Only been able to go to the gym once.  What about you?"

"I'm just going to get something to eat now...I thought a steak.  I have deliberately stayed at work this evening because I don't miss you quite so much when I working...you know with my head stuck in a work book."

"I know.  But I've called with news."

"What news?"

"I've booked a flight...next Friday night getting in at nearly midnight, but I'll be there and I can stay until Monday morning.  Leave when you go to work."

Gil was so grateful that he would see Nick a week that night that he could have wept.  "I cannot tell you how much I'm already waiting for the moment I see you.  I'll be there waiting for you.  I'll rent a car to pick you up."

"Okay.  Do you feel better then?"

"Yes, I do."  But strangely he really didn't think that he did, but of course he didn't say anything to Nick.

Nick had to go to work...more overtime, he said, so they said their goodbyes.  Gil found the restaurant he wanted and ordered a steak.  He ate without much enthusiasm because he'd thought that hearing Nick's voice and knowing that they would be together in a week's time would have made him feel better.  And it didn't.

The moment he was alone in his room the feelings descended upon him even further...like a wet shroud of thunder clouds.  He was used to Nick being there, if not with him...then in the house or the garden...or even the same town.

He concentrated on his work and tried to blot out the feelings that he had at other times.  He was looking forward to Nick's visit and he couldn't wait to have the physical contact with his lover and yet he was still...not quite right.

On the Wednesday before Nick's visit he took a look around the campus bookstore.  He loved books, the feel of them and the stories that fired up his imagination.  But he looked around and nothing seemed to get his attention until he saw a small display...and stood looking at it.  Maybe?  Could that be what was really wrong with him?

Male Menopause: Facts and Fiction.  The display had books by several different authors and he read the prefaces of a couple and decided to buy them.  He hurried back to his rooms, keen to read and see if he fitted into the category.  He was in his early fifties so was in the middle of the critical time...according to the blurb...

He spent a couple of hours scanning through and reading some of the pages of the two books; he needed to go to bed but he kept reading a little more.  By the time he did go to bed it was nearly two in the morning and he had to be up at seven.  But he felt better because he now knew what was wrong with him.  He was certain he was undergoing the male menopause.

The next evening he read some more but had to go to bed early...because the next day after work he was renting a car and tomorrow night he would drive to Newark and pick up Nick.  But he would at least be able to talk to Nick about it all.  That made him feel a whole lot better.

Nick's flight was forty minutes late and Gil was pacing the arrivals hall waiting for him.  Nick had said he was only bringing a small duffel bag that he could carry-on so he wouldn't have to wait at baggage reclaim.  When the flight landed Gil waited right in front of the doors and Nick was about the fifth man out, grinning like a man possessed.

They hugged and hugged.  Gil thought he could stand there all night and just hug Nick he had missed him so much.  His physical presence.  His smell.  His everything.

"You got a rental?"

"I have a car.  Come on, this way."  And he put his arm around Nick's shoulders and guided him in the right direction.

In the vast car lot they sat in the car kissing until they were breathless.  "How long will it take to get to your place?"

"The traffic was okay coming in so not much longer than half an hour."

"Then step on the gas."

"Okay."  Gil was smiling and his cheeks seemed to ache because they were so unused to the action.  "You look so good and I'm so happy you're here."

"Me too.  Quit talking and start moving."

"Okay."  He laughed.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed...not since he'd left Vegas, he was pretty sure.

Forty minutes later they were climbing the stairs to the rooms.

"It's a bit old isn't it?"

"These are the original buildings...now they're reserved for visitors and short stay students.  Small, but warm and comfortable and they have been modernised so there is electricity and running water."  He smirked.

"Hey, missed your smirk and I expected to see a beard."

"I've not been in a beard mood."

"That's okay...I like your dimple."  And Nick bent over and kissed Gil's chin but then moved up to his mouth.  They still hadn't opened Gil's door.

As they managed to roll inside the apartment it was Gil guiding Nick backwards to his bedroom and bed...their outer clothes being discarded at they made their journey.  As the fell onto the bed they were in each other arms...with their pants around their ankles and wearing their shoes and socks. But, importantly, their underpants were around their knees and their erections were re-acquainting themselves.

Gil pulled back to look at Nick and with his voice was thick with emotion as he murmured, "God, I've missed you."  Before he dived back in and reclaimed the hot mouth and the insistent teeth.

It was Nick who couldn't stand the pressure and put his hand between then and grasping their dicks together squeezed and pumped quite vigorously for just a few moments before their release.  Gil emitted a howl of pleasure at the intense heat in his balls and then from the scalding liquid from them both as it splashed onto his belly.

Nick lay back gasping, his eyes screwed tight. Then he looked at Gil.  "Missed you, too."  He grinned.

After recovering their breath they stripped off their clothing and took a quick shower together.  The cubicle was pretty small and they could hardly move together but it cleaned them off and they freshened up because both of them knew they would not be sleeping just yet despite it being the early hours of the morning.

The made love slowly and sensuously and Gil entered Nick with such a feeling of completeness he thought he would weep.  He was shocked by the feeling...but only momentarily because he was otherwise engaged.  Nick seemed to be almost purring with pleasure.

When Gil had cleaned him up and they lay still, arms entwined and on the verge of sleep Nick spoke quietly.

"It's been the longest time we haven't made love since we started going out...even...you know...when I was abducted."

"I know.  I know."  Gil thought for some moments.  "I really shouldn't have come out here...I thought it would be the cure for my...ills."

"And it isn't?"  Nick looked up at Gil from where he lay; his head on Gil's shoulder.

"I don't think so.  It might be skewered by the fact that I have missed you so much.  I don't know.  Anyway...get some sleep, you've had a very long day."  And his kissed Nick's hair and then stroked it with his fingertips and Nick fell asleep.  And a tear escaped Gil's eye as he held his lover.  What was wrong with him?

They slept until the sun blazed through the window...the drapes had been left open.  Nick stretched and then realised that he was with Gil and rolled over into the body of his lover.

"Wake up.  My prince.  Wake up and feed me."  He smiled as Gil started to wake at his words.

"Food?  Is that all you can think of?"  He rolled into Nick and his erection brushed Nick's stomach.

"Food.  Peeing.  Fucking.  No.  Peeing, food and then fucking."

"You pee; I'll get the coffee started.  I have cereal, will that do?"

"Yeah.  I haven't eaten since Vegas...I must have slept through the meal on the plane...if there even was one" 

They both got up and went about their tasks and Nick got back into bed and picked up the paperback book on the bedside cabinet.  He frowned at it and flicked through a few pages.  Gil went to the bathroom and then back to the kitchen as Nick read bits of the book.  He put it down as Gil came in carrying a tray of two mugs and two cereal bowls.

They sat in bed and ate their cereal and sipped their coffee.  "I thought we could go out for lunch or brunch and have a look around and then come back this afternoon.  Get take out for dinner."

"Sounds like a plan, but first?"  Nick wiggled his eyebrows at Gil.

"Of course.  We have a lot of catching up to do."  And Gil took Nick's empty bowl and put it on the tray on the floor by the bed before leaning over Nick and biting a nipple.

***

Gil didn't feel as bad as he had done the previous night but as he showered he still thought about his...malady.  He was perplexed; there was no doubt about that, but having read the book about the male menopause he was more than convinced that that was what was wrong.  He'd see his doctor when he got back to Vegas...no point in starting the ball rolling here in Princeton.  He'd be okay as long as he kept himself busy.

Nick, in the meantime, having negotiated that Gil should definitely have the first shower since he'd travelled and needed more rest, was thumbing through the books on Gil's bedside table again.   So this, he thought, was what Gil thought was wrong with him.

Of course Nick wasn't a doctor, but as he looked at salient bits of the book he was quite convinced that this was not what was wrong with Gil.  He knew what was really wrong and he bet that Gil did too...but he seemed hell bent on denying it and looking for any excuse to avoid dealing with it.  And one thing was for sure he had to have it out with him.  No use prevaricating.  The sooner the matter was addressed the better it would be...for both of them.  He wished he'd done it back in Vegas and then maybe Gil wouldn't have felt the need to travel across the country in a futile bid to get...better.  But there was a problem.

Gil was a stubborn ass.  He liked to be right...and to be fair he mostly was right about most things...but not about this and Nick was one hundred percent sure about that.

They went into Princeton town and wondered around looking in shops and looking for a place to eat.  There wasn't really that much to see and Nick got really cold...he'd bought his heavy duty jacket from home but there was a freezing wind cutting him in two.

They found a men's shop and browsed around.  Gil found a cashmere pullover in bright scarlet red and was sure it would suit Nick.  It did when he tried it on, so Gil bought it for him and so he could wear it immediately the assistant cut off the tags there and then.  He noticed the difference as soon as he was out in the wind again.

They found a place that looked okay to eat in and were shown to a booth.  It was lunchtime but they still both chose the all-day breakfast.  Gil spent almost the entire meal telling Nick about his work at the University and his classes and the people.   All the stuff he'd wanted to talk about to Nick since he'd arrived.  It was plain to Nick that he was enjoying it.  It was also plain to Nick that he was avoiding speaking about how he actually felt...

When they'd finished their meal they went for another walk around a park and Nick declared that he needed another coffee and something sweet.  They'd seen a Starbucks earlier so made their way back to that.  Nick would have a blueberry muffin and a latte.  He rarely ate muffins and he rarely drank lattes...expect at Starbucks.  It was a rare treat.

Just as they walked into the coffee house a couple vacated two of the comfortable leather armchairs.  Gil nodded to Nick to take them and he went to the counter.

Nick took off his jacket and put it on the back of the chair and admired his new jumper for a few moments and then watched Gil.  He hadn't asked for Nick's order because he knew and Nick felt comforted by that; that Gil knew him so well.

As he watched and waited he knew that this is where he would tackle Gil about this weird idea about the male menopause...

Several minutes later Gil delivered the two huge coffees...he'd had an Americano...and two muffins.  It looked as if Gil had had the apple and cinnamon muffin.  His favourite.

They settled down and took sips of their coffees and Nick broke off some of his muffin and savoured the taste.

"It's good?"  Gil smiled at Nick.

"The best.  Apart from my Mom's, of course."  Gil laughed.  When they'd last visited Dallas Nick had returned to Vegas with a box of his Mom's muffins and to save them from eating them he'd taken them to work...they'd gone in a flash!  But Nick had saved just one for them to share.

"You know I was telling you about..."  Gil started but Nick interrupted.

"...hold on.  Don't launch into another lecture about your work, I want to discuss something with you."  Whether it was the tone of Nick's voice or the fact that Gil knew that Nick was going to say something that he didn't want to hear, Nick didn't know, but Gil's face dropped and he appeared to shrink into his chair.

"You sound serious."  So it was his voice, Nick thought, and Gil picked up his coffee to hide his face.

"I don't know if it is serious, babe, but it needs to be said."

"Here?  Now?"

"Yeah.  Where better?  You can't walk out on me...at least I don't think you will...or argue in a public place so, babe, this is the place to hold you captive; you have a coffee and a muffin.  Gil.  The books.  The male menopause?"  Nick spoke dramatically.

"Ah, you saw them...well I wasn't hiding them.  Nick, I'm convinced that that what's wrong with me.  I read them through and I seem to have all the symptoms and I think I probably need just a shot or two of testosterone and I'll be fine."  He smiled, trying to be convincing but Nick knew otherwise.

Nick smiled back.  "Gil, you're a scientist.  You look at data and interpret results...you never jump to conclusions.  And yet you're looking for excuses and doing exactly that...jumping in with both feet and without a lifejacket."  Gil looked shocked at Nick's admonishment and his face dropped even further.  "Don't look at me like that...I know you as well as you know yourself and sometimes, like now for instance, I think I know you better."

Gil said nothing; he just looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"I just skimmed through the books...just skimmed and I picked up one thing immediately...and I think it's the basis of both the books.  There are bucket loads of symptoms and if you were inclined...just like you; man...you could fit yourself into any of them.  Except one.  The one major common denominator of both books was the main issue of the male menopause and I spotted it straight away.  Do you know which one I'm talking about?"

Gil swallowed and shook his head.  Nick chuckled and then he continued in a gentle manner.  "Which just goes to show what an idiot you are."  Gil didn't react and didn't look offended, so Nick continued.  "The one main symptom that overrides all the others is a much reduced libido.  Sex drive dropping off the map.  Do you have a reduced libido?"  Nick raised his eyebrows at Gil who remained poker faced.  Nick waited for a few moments and then Gil spoke.

"No."  He said the word very quietly and shook his head at the same time.

"No, you don't.  Twice last night, once this morning...and I bet later too?  Not a guy who needs a testosterone shot are you?"  Gil shook his head again.  "I know what's wrong with you and I've known all along and so do you...only you're just not willing to confront it are you?  You know don't you...it is a symptom of this... male menopause, so I bet that's why you wanted an alternative tag.  You do know don't you, babe?"

Gil took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair.

"You do, don't you?"  Nick pushed again; this was a make or break moment.  He was going to get Gil to acknowledge it right now. He smiled across at Gil and was trying to project a calm and loving feeling across the table.  He didn't want Gil think he was making accusations at him...about him.

"Depression."  Gil whispered it and sounded as depressed as Nick had ever heard him.

"I said it when this all started and you agreed and then veered off course when you'd had a chance to think about it..."

"...I don't want to be depressed."  Gil spoke as if in despair.

"Hey, hey."  Nick reached across the table and took one of Gil's hands.  "No one does. But it's treatable, it is...and I've been thinking about you and how you've been and it's not like you are incapacitated by it are you...just have the bad blues and you can't shake them off.  Am I right?"

"I suppose."

"If you were seriously depressed, babe, you wouldn't be able to function.  You still function...quite well...very well in some aspects...but you've lost the pleasure that you used to experience at doing your work...bugs...and me."

"It's not you, Nick."

"I know it isn't...now, but I was worried, really worried when you decided to come out here without telling me...I thought we were through and it was me."

Gil looked at Nick with abject horror in his eyes.  "I couldn't lose you.  I couldn't...but...I did wonder if it was us...well the me part of us. 

"What I can't understand is why you're in, or were in, denial.  Are you embarrassed or worried about it...what is it, babe?"

"I don't know.  I was looking for excuses and I didn't really know what it was and yet, deep down I did because I realised back in Vegas it was a depressive state...but I thought it was work...and then I did feel better when I sorted out the sabbatical here; but in days the fug was back.  That's what I call it a...fug."

"A fug?"

"An old word I saw in a book years ago...like being in a suffocating atmosphere...it seemed to describe it, accurately."

"So it crept up on you and you have no idea how it started...there's no particular reason?"  Nick felt much better about it all now...he'd confronted Gil as he'd decided to do and Gil had caved immediately and admitted it...he hadn't been expecting it to be that easy.

Gil looked.  "It was very gradual.  I was hardly aware of it and then it started to invade my consciousness...I can't think of another way to describe it."

"And you were looking for an excuse, any excuse not to admit to it.  That in itself could be the depression making you question yourself."  Gil looked across at Nick and frowned.

"I never thought of that way.  Yes.  That could be right."

"That's because you weren't thinking straight.  That is the depression."

"I was using every excuse to avoid it...that testosterone...I missed it completely.  Me.  A scientist used to interpreting evidence."  He chuckled but it wasn't humorous.

"But not evidence about yourself...although you did know, deep down, didn't you?"

He nodded and then shook his head.  "So what now?"

"I don't know.  See a professional?  I really don't think you do have it that badly...just enough to keep you from enjoying what you're doing.  So say it's a mild depressive episode.  I wonder if just some life style changes would help.  Change of diet...exercise more...fresh air.  We could google it and look to see if there are any herbal remedies..."

Gil suddenly did look brighter.  "...St John's Wort!"  He exclaimed almost triumphantly.  "It's been proven clinically effective for mild to moderate depression.  Nick, why the hell didn't I realise?  I am beyond stupid.  What an idiot."

"Yeah, but you were depressed...are depressed.  You look better already."

"I feel it...a weight has been lifted...  I am an idiot putting you through all this...this mid-life crisis shit and it isn't..."  He shook his head again

Nick grinned and he, too, felt as if a weight had been shifted off his own shoulders.  "Drink your coffee and eat your muffin...I wonder if there are any shops that sell that stuff around here, we can go look."

"Yes, we can."  He sat back and put his glasses back on and picked up his coffee again.  He looked to be deep in thought.  "I did know.  I must have known; but I was in denial."

"Well, you know what they say?"

"What?"

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt."

"They do, don't they.

They did find a shop and bought a supply of the capsules.  When they got back to Gil's rooms they made love again.  And then googled about the depression.  Gil had been right about the St John's Wort and he decided to start taking them there and then.

They ordered Indian take-out and when it arrived they talked up a storm about things they'd done together in the years they'd been a couple and what they still wanted to do...places they wanted to visit.

Nick also started formulating a plan for when Gil returned to Vegas.  Fresh air every day.  Fresh food.  Exercise every day...even if it was only a brisk walk around the block.  And Nick also thought of something else.

"Babe, we'll try all this out and see how you go...but if it doesn't work you will have to see the doctor...you may need some medication...maybe therapy.  I don't know but now it's out on the open we've got a handle on it...okay?"

"Okay."  Gil smiled at his considerate lover.

"And one more thing."

"Should I be worried?"

"No.  We don't know if there is some underlying cause or not...but if you feel that work is a factor...then leave, we don't need all the money we're getting and your health matters more."

"Is it any wonder I love you, Nickolas Stokes?  I thought...I thought you'd see me as...a sick...old man."

Nick laughed but then became serious.  "I knew it...you dumbass.  We're in this together."

"I know that now.  Thank you...I do love you."

***

The next day they drove out to a National park and spent two hours walking along a trail at a quite brisk pace. When they eventually returned to Gil's rooms he was worn out and ready for bed and it was only mid-afternoon.

"Well that's shown me I need to get fitter, if nothing else."

"It won't take you long to get better...just some regular aerobic stuff and in a few weeks you'll be real fit."

"I think walking and swimming, what do you think?"

"Yeah, good, whatever floats your boat."

"They're both easy to do.  There's a pool on the campus; I walk past it every day.  I already walk to lessons...but I can go a long way round and instead of ambling I can pace it out; and I used be good at the breast stroke...good stamina...although you'd hardly believe that now.  I can work my way up to some long swims."

"There you go, man.  All mapped out for you."

"Yes.  I think I can do this, Nick.  I'll be a changed man..."

"...don't go changing too much...I love you just the way you are."

"I think that's a song."

"You reckon?"

"I know so."

"Are you up for a little lovemaking?"

"Always.  But I think I'll just lie back and enjoy it and let you do all the work."  Gil chuckled at Nick.

"I can do that.  But no going to sleep afterwards...if you do you'll never sleep tonight."

"True.  Not even a little nap?"

"No, man.  Not even a little nap."

In the event they both slept after their lovemaking but Nick came around first having snorted and woken himself; he smiled at Gil...fast asleep and looking for all the world as if he hadn't a care in that world.  Funny how things worked out.  Nick slid out of bed, took a pee and then made some coffee and woke up Gil.

"Come on sleepy head...we've both had over an hour."

"Really?"  Gil stretched and yawned.  "I'm far too comfortable to get up. What time is it?"

"Ten to six."

"We've got less than twelve hours left together."

"I know...but I'll try and get out again.  Even if it's only for one night."

"I could come back for a weekend."

"Yeah, you could, but what if I end up being called out and working a couple of double shifts?  At least if I come out to you they can't call me up and get me into work...well not as quickly as they'd want."

"That is true.  Okay, I'm convinced.  You want to go out for a meal?"

"Nah, man.  I want to do nothing more than cuddle on the couch."

"I think that can be arranged."

They called for Thai take out and enjoyed their limited time together. They talked some more about the things they'd done together but then they talked about things they wanted to do and decided to make a list, a bucket list, of everything they thought of and they made a promise to each other to work their way through it...it was pretty comprehensive by the time it was finished.  But they both agreed it was all doable.

The Great Wall of China and the Terracotta Army.  The Taj Mahal. The Galapagos Islands.  Japan...just Japan.  Take a Safari in Africa.  Most were tourist attractions...but places that they both thought they would love to see but Nick agreed they could throw a few bug hunting trips into the mix and maybe some bird watching.  Nick decided he'd have to become an overtime whore and start saving.  Cutting vouchers, stopping take-out...  Gil got quite alarmed.

"Honey, we've got a lifetime together to get through this list..."

"...I know, but we're needlessly extravagant.  We both cook...and enjoy it...and yet we still have take-out what, two or three times a week?  It's not good for us.  And with the money I spend with my gym membership in one year...maybe two...I could buy the equipment and use it at home.  Save gas and time, too."  Nick looked at Gil's shocked face...his mouth had dropped open...and he laughed.

"You're joking?"  Gil managed.

"As a matter of fact, I'm not.  It does make sense.  Think about it.  Take-out is expensive and in truth we have no idea what we're eating...calories and fats.  It's just a quick fix.  And I spend forty minutes driving to and from the gym to exercise an hour, maybe an hour and a half, when I could be doing the exercise at home and saving the travel time...actually I've thought about doing that before now.  I would also be saving gas and the environment...and I could be spending the time saved preparing and cooking a meal."

"Okay.  That's a good argument.  But what about the social interaction at the gym?"

"Social interaction?  Babe, I say 'hi' and 'how ya doin', to other guys, who are mostly strangers.  I do know the staff by their names...but that's it."

"Oh.  I've had an idea anyway...I could buy the equipment you need for your birthday...or Christmas."

"Nah, man, you don't have to do that.  You're buying me a new laptop."

"That's for me taking this trip without telling you.  No, I would love to buy it for you...especially if you're going to spend the time you save...cooking for me..."

"...hey, not all the cooking.  We can have a rota."

Gil chuckled and ruffled Nick's very short hair.  "You and you rotas..."

"...keeps things fair."

"In a huge family, maybe, but when there's just the two of us can't we just remember whose turn it is?"

"Ha!  Like that would work with Mr Try-anything-to-get-out-of-doing-chores!"

"What happened to that gullible young man who was so madly in love with me?"  He smiled at the memory.

"Hey!  I'm still young and madly in love...just not so gullible!"

"I love you.  Nick?"  Gil was suddenly serious.

"What?"

"Thank you for understanding...about this...this depression."

"You don't have to thank me, babe.  We're in this together, okay?"

"Okay."

"But, man, it ain't ever going to be an excuse for getting out of your chores."  Nick wagged his finger at Gil who caught it and kissed it."

"I promise."

"Bed?"

"Bed; and we need to set the alarm...we need to be on the road to the airport at five thirty...no later."

"Okay.  Four forty-five?"

"Agreed."

The made love and Nick penetrated Gil.  It was a blissful feeling for him and would keep Nick in his thoughts until he could touch him again.  Just like before he'd left Vegas.  Was it only two weeks ago...he fell asleep remembering Vegas.

The next morning in the shower before they left for the airport, Gil gave Nick a blow-job to remember.

"I think I'll sleep on the plane back to Vegas."

"You're working tonight aren't you?"

"Yeah, picking up Catherine's slack."  The moment he'd said it Nick regretted it; his brain was deprived of blood and that was his excuse and he was sticking to it.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."  Nick grinned hoping it would keep the interrogation ay bay.  Of course, he knew it wouldn't.

"You know that's not true.  We've got to get ready.  You can tell me in the car on the way to the airport.

"Mmmm."  Was the only comment Nick was permitting himself to make.

Since they had to be quick getting ready and snatching breakfast Gil didn't pursue it but they both knew he would.  At least Nick could prepare his response.

When they'd found their way out of Princeton and were well on the way to the airport Gil asked.

"So what did you mean about Catherine?"

Nick laughed.  "Talk about a dog with a bone.  It's just that she likes acting like a boss."

"She is the boss."

"So are you...the real boss but you never act like it.  You act like we're all in it together.  A team."

"But that's what we are..."

"...not in Catherine's book.  It a case of do as I say not as I do.  Look, don't bother about it...I'm used to her...Warrick and me both.  We deal."

"It's a side of her I never see...obviously.  But there was that CSI, Keppler..."  Gil had been taking classes at the CSI training centre to cover someone's sick leave and they'd drafted in Keppler, who was looking for a permanent transfer to the Vegas lab, to make up the numbers.

"...whoa...don't go there.  Red rag to a bull.  He came in laying the law down, dividing the team and what was he?  A fucking murderer and Catherine...Catherine was taken in...one hundred and ten percent."

"I know.  Ah well, I'll be back soon."

"Yeah.  We shouldn't spend our time together raking over old wounds."

"No.  I've enjoyed having you with me so much...it reminds me...as if I need reminding..."  He smiled and glanced over at Nick before returning his eyes to the road.  "...of just how much I love you.  My depression feels better already just being with you."

"Now that's what I like to here."  He put his hand on Gil's thigh and they spent the rest of the journey quietly savouring each other's company.

When they arrived at the airport they said their goodbyes in the car and Gil was under strict instructions to leave immediately and go to work.  The kissed and hugged with some difficulty over the console...but it didn't matter too much; they knew how much they loved each other.

Gil stayed for just a couple of minutes watching Nick walk towards the entrance but was going to leave before he disappeared from view.  Just as he started the car Nick turned and waved...and Gil felt as if his heart was being wrenched out of his chest.

By the time Gil was back at his rooms the fug had descended upon him well and truly.  He had some difficulty separating it from the genuine sadness he felt because Nick had left...which would be completely normal...from the bleakness he'd been feeling most of time.  Maybe it was because of Nick's departure that he felt so bad.   He hoped he'd feel better in a couple of days and he would then be able to gauge whether, or not, the St John's Wort was working.  Although it did say it could be four to six weeks before a real improvement would be seen.  Would be seen...if it worked, that was the proviso.

He was ready to go to work twenty minutes before he would normally leave so he decided to try walking to work via a longer route and start his new exercise regime as he meant to go on.  He legs were a little sore from the exercise the day before, but not enough to prevent him from walking.

On his way to work his cell buzzed with a text from Nick.  'Just boarding love you and miss you.  Speak soon.  Nick xxx'  Gil smiled; one thing he did know and that was without Nick he'd be a lot worse.

***

At lunch time he didn't have a class until three in the afternoon so walked back to his rooms; he needed to take the car back to the rental company.  He would then have time to walk back to the college.  He was getting the hang of this exercise already.  On the way back he'd check about the availability of the pool so he could go swimming. 

He hadn't been swimming for years so was looking forward to seeing if he could still do it...he reckoned he could since he didn't think anyone forgot how to swim although at first they may be a bit rusty.  He smiled at his little joke and thought that maybe he did feel a little better.

He discovered the pool was open from 6am until 10pm.  Students staffed the pool to make a little money for themselves.  He decided he would swim on Tuesday's and Thursday's after work and then on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

Gil entered a new phase in his life.  An eating healthy and getting plenty of exercise phase.

He decided that Nick was in fact partly right about the number of take-outs they had. Not just the money angle but the healthy angle.  He decided he'd start a much healthier diet...buying organic food and cooking it himself.  He'd make sandwiches for work and take in some fruit for snacks...which they normally did anyway back in Vegas...well Nick did.

Gil googled Walmart and found that the nearest supermarket sold both organic food and clothing...including bathing shorts.  So after work he thought he would walk home and dump his work and have a quick snack.  He had some bananas.  Then he would walk the couple of miles to the store; he would have to get a taxi back home with his purchases.  But he was content that he'd done sufficient exercise for his first day.

He didn't buy too much food...he wanted fresh produce and he determined that he could walk to the store several times a week and if he took his backpack he would be able to carry his purchases and walk back.  He bought two pairs of bathing shorts...and two extra-large towels and a pair of ear plugs from the pharmacy.  As an afterthought he also bought a cheap pair of bathroom scales.  He wanted to know just how much weight he was going to lose...that would be his incentive.  But actually feeling healthier was his real goal.  No...getting rid of the fug was his ultimate aim.

He rinsed out and dried his new shorts and towels.  He made himself an omelette and salad and sat down to do two hours of checking and marking papers.  At eleven he was really tired but he was satisfied he was starting off as he meant to go on.

For the next day he made a lunch with salad and took several pieces of fruit with him.  He was having his first swim after work so he packed his swimming paraphernalia in the plastic bag that his scales had been wrapped in.  He was ready for exercise and work.  His ruck sack was heavy on his back but he thought it would add some extra pounds to make the walking more aerobic.

Gil Grissom was going to get fit and well.  He repeated that mantra as he started his walk to work. 

He arrived at work fifteen minutes early as he checked his timing.  He needed to maximise the time he spent walking in the morning, so he thought he might try a slightly longer route in the morning to get it just right.

At his first swim he discovered he was still a powerful swimmer and his breast stroke stretched his muscles.  As he got in from walking home he was dizzy.  He had done too much exercise and not had enough to eat.  He wouldn't make that mistake again.

And that's how it was; trial and error.  By the following Tuesday morning when he weighed himself he was six pounds lighter.   His muscles ached all over his body, some that had been dormant for so long that they protested, long and painfully, at being awakened.  But he persevered and felt better for it.  He was quite convinced he felt better and on his last visit to Walmart had purchased a lovely little instrument for his wrist.  A watch that was also a pedometer to show how much walking he was doing.

He's also had to buy two pairs of good quality sturdy walking shoes and some high-end socks. (Together with some blister bandages...)  He decided against boots since all of his walking was around streets or parks.  There was no rough terrain to negotiate.  He had boots at home for that kind of hiking.

He was a little guilty at spending so much money when they agreed to save for their bucket list adventures.   But they were one off purchases and he would save money from not buying sandwiches, take-out and restaurant meals.

And the best news of all, Nick was visiting again.  Only one night but he would arrive very early on Saturday morning and would fly red-eye home very early on Monday morning to work a day shift. 

Nick had told Catherine he'd catch up any time lost if the plane was delayed for any reason.  She wasn't particularly happy, but Nick couldn't care less.  They got their pound of flesh out of him and she knew it.  He'd been following Gil's regime with him via text and Skype, but it was difficult to see a difference on a computer screen.

Gil rented the car on Friday night and Nick was going to drive himself back to the airport and leave it there.  To save Gil having to disrupt his sleep to take Nick...Gil wouldn't have minded for one moment but Nick wasn't having it, so he agreed, reluctantly.

When he weighed himself on the Saturday morning before he went to pick up Nick, he'd lost nine pounds.  He hoped Nick would notice because he could see it himself.  Not only the weight loss but he was much more toned.  He still wanted to lose another twenty pounds and he was sure he would do it.  He still had a few niggling pains from his old muscles...still protesting their new lease of life.

He parked up at the airport and went into the arrivals hall.  The flight was on time and due in twenty minutes.  He decided a coffee would be good and bought a small Americano from Starbucks.  He only half finished the very hot drink when the passengers from the flight started to arrive.  Nick was third out this time.  Gil dumped his cup in the trash and held his arms open for Nick...but Nick stopped a little way in front of him.

"Babe!  Way to go on the weight loss!  How much...you look fantastic."  He was grinning from ear to ear.

So Gil grinned back, elated that Nick had noticed immediately.  "Nine pounds."

"Nine...are you sure it's not more?"

"That's the secret weapon.  The exercise is toning me up...I mean I haven't got your abs...yet."  He added with a smile.

"Wow."  And Nick finally let himself fall into Gil's still outstretched arms.  "Missed you."

"Honey...there are no words."  And they hugged for a couple of minutes feeling their renewed connection.

On the way back to Princeton, Nick was still awestruck with Gil's success at dieting and exercising.  He grilled him on what he was doing and what he was easting.  And he was very impressed and proud of his lover. 

"Man, we need to go to bed as soon as we get in..."  Nick caught a slight frown and saw Gil glance at the clock in the car.  "...what's wrong?"

"I go swimming on a Saturday morning...but..."

"...hey that's okay...we can go to bed, have a quick fuck and you can leave me to sleep...there was a bachelorette party on the plane...man, they were noisy, I got no shut-eye at all."

Gil smiled.  "I can do that."   Although something at the back of his mind worried him, momentarily, but he didn't know what it was and then it was gone.  All that mattered that Nick was here, with him.   He did feel good.

They did as they expected...a quickie...loving and as sweet as ever but quick.  Nick was completely shattered so Gil left him already fast asleep, ate some fresh fruit and nuts with some natural yoghurt and then set off at his now very brisk pace to walk the long route to the pool.  At the pool he was already up to a hundred lengths.  He was going for one hundred and twenty this morning. 

When he got back to his rooms about three hours later, Nick was still asleep so Gil slipped into bed behind him.

"Man, I was dreaming."

"What about?"

"About visiting you in Princeton...hey, I'm here."  He stretched and turned over to face Gil.  "Ugh.  Have you showered?"

"Yes, of course, what's the matter?"

"You stink of chlorine.  Man, you need another shower."

"Okay.  If that's all it takes and you're not trying to catch a few more minutes sleep...I'll go shower again.  I'll warn you though, I'll look like a shrivelled prune."

"As long as it's not your dick, you're okay."  Nick chuckled.

"Oh, no, it's never shrivelled...well hardly ever, extreme cold would do it."

"Sure would...quit talking, go shower."

That's exactly what he did and then they made love.  While Nick showered Gil prepared breakfast.  Omelettes with mushrooms, tomatoes and green pepper and wheat toast with fresh orange juice and coffee.

Nick ate it down with great enthusiasm.  "This is awesome.  You have excelled yourself."

"Thank you...not so much me, but all the fresh organic products.  I've started to do three small shops a week to ensure that it is all fresh all the time.  Since you were last here; no take-out and no restaurants or diners.  I've cut down on red meat...well meat generally and eat more fish."

"I am impressed...really."  Nick laughed.  "Will you be able to keep that up when you're back in Vegas doing shift work, that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question?"

Gil was quite annoyed with Nick for questioning his commitment.  "I will do it, I can assure you."

"Okay, okay.  Only joking."  But Nick hadn't missed Gil's annoyance at being grilled...even good naturedly as Nick had done.  "I suppose what I should ask you instead is...are you feeling better...has your depression lifted?"

***

Gil stared at Nick for a few moments and didn't know what to say.

"It hasn't has it?"  Nick answered his own question and got up from his seat and went over to Gil as he stood by the sink scraping plates.

"Not exactly.  I've been busy but I still feel...I don't know...not connected, somehow.  I can't put it into words."

"It's early days with the herbal capsules isn't it...it can take weeks for them to become effective."

"Yes; four to six weeks is quite normal."

"No problem...keep up the good work.  Eh?"  Nick took the plate he was holding and put it in the sink and then hugged Gil to him and Gil put his head on his shoulder and felt calm and loved.  They stood there for some minutes before Gil spoke.

"By the time I get back to Vegas?"

"That's what I was just thinking."  Nick smiled into Gil's hair.  "So what's the plan for the rest of the day...well, this afternoon and evening?"

Gil pulled back and looked at Nick.  "I thought we could go back to that park we went to last time for a hike and take a picnic with us...eat in the fresh air.  The weather's supposed to be good...dry at least.  What do you think?"

"I think that's a good idea I could do with some fresh air...don't get much on the night shift...and sometimes the air I do get just ain't that fresh."  He chuckled and ran his hand through Gil's curls.  "Missed these, curly."

"I think they're getting greyer...they'll be white soon.  And you can tell me how Catherine's been treating you."

"Same old, same old.  Warrick says, 'same shit, different day'.  We don't want to talk work we need to revisit our bucket list.  Refine it...put dates in."

"Good idea."  They finally broke up.  "You load the dishwasher and I'll make the picnic."

"Deal."

They had a really good hike and Nick was amazed at the difference in Gil's fitness level in just two weeks.  He could always walk a distance but not at speed...but now he was hiking at the same speed as Nick and wasn't out of breath at all.  They found a grassy bank in the sun, but sheltered from the cold wind, and Gil opened both their backpacks to reveal the feast he'd prepared.

Nick had been there when Gil was preparing the food but hadn't paid any attention to it and by the time Gil had shared it out between their backpacks it was wrapped up or in containers.

Two containers were full of identical fresh salads, one each.  The packets were sandwiches.  Two rounds of wheat bread with roast chicken and two rounds with fish. Half a sandwich each and not tuna fish as Nick might have expected, but mackerel.  He was surprised.

"This is all fresh or organic or both...were I could find it. The mackerel is fresh in the store...they have a great organic section as well..."  Nick laughed.

"...man, I've never heard you eulogise about shopping before."

Gil laughed with him.  "I have turned over a new leaf."

"You have.  I'm proud of you, babe...and you do seem better."

"I am...but getting well...feeling better, isn't going to happen overnight.  It helps that you're here with me instead of at the end of a cell phone or on a computer screen."

"Only three weeks after this weekend.  And my overtime has shot through the roof...it's only a matter of time before either Ecklie or Sara catch on and I'm banned."

"Tell me about Catherine.  She must be authorising your extra hours."

"She is.  No problem with that.  I was moaning before, it's not that bad...she's just not you and she does have a kind of boss complex, for want of a better description.  The lab doesn't seem to run quite as easily and the people don't seem to be quite as happy...but, you know, that could be me, just missing you."

"I think it probably is you...I don't think people miss me."  Nick thought he was joking but looked at his face and didn't see any humour...more resignation of that being the way it was.

"You're wrong, babe.  Wrong.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, misses you, not just me. Warrick and Greg have told me.  And, of course, Sara still worships the ground you walk on regardless of you and me.  No.  You're wrong...probably the only one who doesn't miss you is Catherine and she hopes  you'll leave so she can step into your shoes...but let me tell you in no uncertain terms, Dr Grissom, your shoes are too big to be filled." 

To Nick's complete and utter amazement, Gil's eyes teared up and as desperately as he tried not to cry, in moments Gil was weeping into Nick's shoulder.

"Hey, babe.  It's okay.  It's all gonna be okay."  As much as Nick didn't want to join in he was crying himself inside a minute.  He was an acknowledged cry-baby.

For several minutes Gil wept quietly and Nick soothed his back.  When he'd recovered he spoke as he mopped his face with a napkin he'd bought along for the picnic.

"I once told Warrick that I was like a ghost and that I would disappear from work one day and there'd be no cake in the break room...no one would notice..."

"...not true."

"But it's like how I feel...now.  The depression...it's an almost perfect description."

"Yeah, yeah...I can see the analogy.  That's good isn't it...putting it into words?"

"I think it is, yes.  Yes."

"Come on let's eat up all this great food before it goes cold..."

"...but it's all..."  And he grinned at Nick's joke and leaned over and kissed him and ran his fingers down his cheek.

***

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