Title: A Good Enough Excuse
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2626
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom and Nick Stokes
Warnings: AU and v.fluffy!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments – which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.

Nick was so tired he could hardly haul his suitcase up the path to their front door. His laptop was in its case precariously balanced on its shoulder strap. He dragged himself and his luggage to the door and dropped them both on the ground while he got his key…he should have done that in the taxi, but he forgot.

Nick had been away for four nights from Monday morning until now…late on Friday. He’d had to work Sunday night and had caught an early flight out to Washington DC for a Forensics Convention. He was presenting a paper on analysis techniques after a case he’d busted…almost single handed…he wasn’t a braggart but he had done well on the case and Gil had encouraged him to write it up and publish - resulting in the invitation to present.

But things had gone wrong almost immediately. Some presenters hadn’t turned up and with his experience Nick had been coerced into helping out…so he’d had to burn some candle power reading up on unfamiliar but not unknown subjects and then in a stroke of irony his lectures had been so successful he’d ended up fielding far more questions than the other presenters…and so the vicious cycle had gone on…

After the closing formalities that morning Nick hoped he’d be home in time to spend the evening with Gil and play catch up before he had to go to work. At least Nick was not at work until Saturday night.

But, it wasn’t to be…the flight was delayed and then they had to divert for some lame ass reason and then in that perfect sky with night descending they’d hit turbulence that even had Nick desperately holding onto to his stomach contents…and many of his nearby fellow passengers failed to do that.

By the time he’d made it into McCarran he was pissed…well and truly…Gil couldn’t meet him because it was too late and he had to work and now he was so tired he thought he might sleep for a month.

He found his key, put it in the lock and opened the door. The a/c was on and a cool breath of air made him inhale…good for Gil…taking care of him. He dragged his luggage in and flicked the light switch…..

The living room beyond the small hallway was illuminated with harsh light and Nick looked up and gasped. The room was a mess…a fucking mess…he could hardly believe his eyes…when he’d left for work, on Sunday night, with Gil, this place had been spotless and tidy and in the time he’d been away…four fucking nights and five fucking days the place was a shit house…it looked as if a tornado had hit the room.

There were mugs and plates and dishes…on the coffee table and by the computer - even on the floor by the couch. There were journals strewn around the tables and couch. The CDs looked as if they’d all been moved around and several were out of their plastic covers and left on the shelf. The same with some books…they’d been taken down and opened and left where they were.

Nick was dumbstruck. There were two pairs of Gil’s shoes haphazardly deposited by the side of the couch. A jacket was on one chair and a tee shirt…one of his tee shirts…lay on the other chair.

Now he knew that Gil had been really busy and had pulled doubles while he’d been away but there was no excuse for this; none at all. He was so tired and so depressed by the sight that he could feel tears pricking his eyes.

‘How could Gil do this? In just five days how could this chaos have happened?’ He knew full well that Gil was not the tidiest guy in the universe but he could usually be relied on to pick things up and deposit them in the right place…how the fuck could he make this mess in here when he was used to dealing with the evidence in the labs that required precision and careful cataloguing.

Nick walked through the room and into the kitchen to get a glass of water…when he’d switched that light on he wished he hadn’t. The kitchen was even worse. There were more dirty dishes stacked in the sink…they had a dishwasher for chrissakes. There was remnants of meals…take out…it looked like and there was grease and mess everywhere.

Nick let a tear roll down his cheek and then another…he felt betrayed. He’d never seen such a mess…did he do everything in the house…did he do all the cooking and cleaning and the putting away…he hadn’t thought that he did but maybe over the year they’d been living together maybe he had done more than his fair share; maybe Gil had gradually done less and he’s done more to compensate…he hadn’t minded, he really hadn’t; he was happy….he was a tidy guy and liked order at work and at home…but Gil wasn’t so fussy at home…he didn’t mind a mess...he’d tidy up when the mood took him but he always had something better to do…something more interesting.

Nick slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. Was he being too critical…did a little mess matter….no, it didn’t, but this wasn’t a ‘little mess’, this was a fucking shit load. And, no doubt he’d come up with a good excuse for all of the mess, but it wouldn’t be good enough, not after all of this. Nick sighed and stood up, his water forgotten. He left the kitchen, turning off the light and then turned off the light in the living room.

He went to their bedroom and took a deep breath as he opened the door and flicked the light on…it was more subdued lighting in here and in truth it didn’t look as bad as the other rooms. The bed was unmade and there were clothes but they were on one chair…where Gil usually left them anyway.

Nick started to take his own clothes off and just dropped them as he went into their bathroom…he didn’t bother with the light but took a piss, washed his hands and made his way to the bed. He sat down on the side of the bed…taking his shoes and socks off and slipping his pants off, leaving on his boxers and tee. He left the clothes at the bedside where they fell and lay down and pulled the blankets up.

He curled up on his side and started to cry in earnest…he felt betrayed and lonely. He’d had a very busy week and was sure he’d done some good work and made some allies and friends; he’d thought Gil would be proud of him and what…he couldn’t even be bothered to tidy up even a little bit…it was very evident that Gil had done nothing at all, absolutely fuck all in the house since he’d left.

Was it a measure of what Gil thought of him…a servant…a maid service? Convenient to have around to keep house and fuck…was that it…was he ’the little woman; the downtrodden wife that Nick had seen time after time at crime scenes and had pitied their meagre existences…had he become the same…should he be pitied now?

Nick sobbed into his pillow; he was lonely, he’d hoped to come home and into the arms of his lover. He’d hoped they would make love before Gil had to leave for work…instead they’d exchanged short text messages and Gil had forgotten to tell Nick how much he’d neglected their home in his absence.

Nick fell asleep in abject misery. His last thought was that he couldn’t live like this. He would need to leave…and he loved Gil so much; he’d been his soul mate but it was clear to Nick, as he gradually fell asleep, that he was just a step away from being that little wife…the one who stood behind their husband…not out of shyness, but because they knew their place….

He slept fitfully…while he didn’t actually wake up he was disturbed by dreams…murder scenes…court room scenes and storms…winds whipping up trash in the streets and depositing it all in their living room until the room was full of trash.

He had no idea what time it was...it was very dark in the bedroom, but they had blinds and curtains at the window to keep the daylight at bay. His head was throbbing and his throat felt as if it’d been sand papered. But, he’d heard a noise that had woken him…a noise in the living room maybe. He listened to the very familiar sounds of Gil coming towards the bedroom and for the very first time in his life with Gil, he was about to explode with anger, but he tried to calm himself down…he tried deep breathing as Gil moved closer.

The door was pushed open and the room was flooded with light - it was daytime then. He held his breath and heard Gil sigh as he walked over to the bed.

Gil sat down on the bed and touched Nick’s hair very gently. Stroking it so lightly Nick could barely feel it and yet he felt as if the touch was false. A man, a lover who could betray him so…how could he? Why had he left their home in such a mess…why couldn’t he even have tried to do something instead of leaving everything?

“Nicky…oh, Nicky…I have missed you so much…don’t ever leave me alone again, please.” Gil’s voice was almost too quiet to hear and yet every word pierced Nick’s brain.

“Missed me doing the work, Gil; missed me picking up the fucking mess you leave behind…how the fuck could you have done this in such a short time you bastard…..what do you think I am…a fucking maid service?” Nick came out with all guns blazing. He’d twisted away from Gil as he sat up in bed - in the dim light in the bedroom.

Gil had physically recoiled from the verbal assault and gasped at the vehemence of Nick’s words to him. “Nicky. Nicky…I’m so sorry it never occurred to me.”

“Never fucking occurred to you? To wash a dish…to carry a dish into the kitchen…to use the fucking dishwasher? What exactly didn’t occur to you Gil?”

“I haven’t…well…there was….”

“An excuse…you’ve got an excuse then? I might have known.”

As Nick had spoken the last words Gil had moved around him and reached to turn on the bedside lamp.

“I got hit.” Gil said simply as the poor light illuminated his face. Nick gasped in shock.

The entire right side of Gil’s face was red and purple and green and was swollen, clearly it was very badly bruised. There were two cuts; one above the right eye and one on the right cheekbone - that had been stitched. His right eye was swollen, but Gil was able to open it. He lifted his right hand up to touch Nick and Nick saw that two fingers were splintered together and his bare arm, in a short sleeved shirt, was covered in thick stripes of bruises.

These observations had taken moments and in that time Nick’s anger had completely dissipated into horror. “On my God, babe, my baby, what happened? Why didn’t you call me, how could you not have called me?” His tears were flowing and he’d thrown the bedclothes off him to kneel beside Gil….his fingers running along Gil’s cheek without touching it.

“I couldn’t tell you and spoil your convention…I was okay…just sore….you couldn’t have done anything and you were making a good name for yourself in DC…you didn’t need to be worrying about me. I’m okay…just sore.”

“Jesus Christ Gil…I’m your fucking partner…we’re supposed to share; you’re supposed to tell me…I’m supposed to help you…what happened babe…tell me?”

“Not much…after you left Monday morning we were called to a murder scene as a result of a fight and when we arrived well…they wanted to continue the fight and I got in the way of a baseball bat and then my head was banged on the side walk…well the grass to be more accurate…so my face could have been much worse…I’ve got a cracked cheek bone and cracked fingers…but the docs say it’ll all just get better on it’s own and the cuts’ll fade away…I’ll be okay, honestly. Oh God, Nicky, I missed you so much, but I couldn’t ask you to come home just for me…you needed to do something for yourself.”

“I should’ve been here for you Gil…when I got home and saw everything I thought you didn’t care about me…just didn’t want me for anything other than cleaning…oh God Gil, babe, I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry, none of this is your fault…it’s all mine. I couldn’t go to work on Monday night and they were so busy with both of us gone…that they couldn’t come and help me…well Sara offered, but I thought better of that.”

Nick stroked the hair away from Gil’s bruised face. “You’ve been back to work though, haven’t you?”

“They were just so busy and I was only moping around here…wanting you…. I couldn’t lie down it hurt too much…..and it hurt to bend down so I put things down and just left them…but I’m so sorry Nicky I should have got Merry Maids or someone in here to clean up - it just never crossed my mind.

“I couldn’t sleep…I took a tee shirt of yours out of the wash basket so I could smell you to see if that could help and it did….but the worst Nicky, the very worst, was speaking to you…telling you everything was okay when it wasn’t and all I wanted was for you to put your arms around me and tell me everything would be okay.” Gil breathed out a weary sigh.

Nick’s arms folded around Gil’s shoulders…but only gently. “I thought you were just so busy and tired…oh Gil, I’m so sorry for not realising.”

“Look…stop it…you’re back now…you’re sorry for not being here and I’m sorry for not telling you and messing the place up; but you’re back now and I’m so tired I want to sleep in your arms Nicky….be soothed by you.”

“I can do ‘soothe’.”

“No one does it better.”

“You better not keep anything from me ever again…well, it won’t matter anyway.”

“Why won’t it matter?”

“Not telling me…’cause I ain’t ever leaving you alone again…if I have to go to a convention, then you’re with me, and vice versa.”

“Okay…I think I can live with that.”

“Yep…get used to it. Come on lets help you out of your clothes…how have you managed to shower and everything?”

“With some difficulty, but the finger splint is not cloth it’s like a light, malleable metal and it doesn’t matter if it gets wet…but drying it is a bitch.” He smiled...in a lopsided fashion.

“Oh, Gil Grissom…for an intelligent man…you’re useless sometimes… but I love you.”

He planted a chaste and careful kiss on the end of Gil’s nose and Gil crinkled it up, as he did whenever Nick did that…and then winced at the pain.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt as sorry for himself as he did at that moment. He was a bit useless without Nicky…good job he was back so he could take care of him…no one did caring quite like Nicky. His Nicky.

He let himself be undressed and helped to the bathroom, and felt warm and safe for the first time since Nick had left on Monday. He supposed he was a bit like a wife, being cared for by a strong and capable husband….yes, that’s what Nick was, a strong husband, someone to take care of him……

The End