Previous part of Lost and Found

***

Nick had given this particular question some thought before he came into work on the off chance that someone had seen him.

"Because we met and got chatting and in the course of the conversation she said she'd never seen a Cirque show, so I said let's go." The simple explanation, almost the truth, was the best avenue to take, he'd decided, but he did wonder whether Sara would put two and two together.  He was sure further speculation was about to ensue when their pagers all bleeped at the same time.

A murder and a hostage situation.  Nick sent Sara and Ray.  Work was all-consuming for their night shifts and Nick hardly had time to breathe but he managed to get to Tom's for five o'clock on Saturday intending to spend a few hours with him and enjoy his hospitality.  He was always a generous host and there would always be something out of the ordinary to feast on.  It was no exception although it was an Italian feast and he'd eaten Italian with Heather on Wednesday.

When he'd pressed the doorbell he'd only had to wait seconds before Tom had answered and as always gave him a loving hug.

"Good to see you, Nicholas.  Nice hair, longer than usual.  That abominable buzz cut is far too het for you.  I liked your relaxed look with your moustache...how long ago was that?"

"Years.  Never again.  Everyone took the piss.  And I looked like a fugitive from Village People."

"They were so wonderful in their little costumes."

"You're joking?"

"Of course I am, darling; I'm gay, not tasteless.  Talking of which...I have someone you should meet.  Carlo."

"Carlo?"

"Italian.  Stallion.  Utterly fucking gorgeous.  Trying to get a Green Card so he can model...  He pretends he can't speak much Ingleesh...but he's a lying little gay boy.  He understands everything."

"Then why..."

"...wait and see.  Look."

Tom pointed out into his garden...a young man, maybe twenty-five, was tidying up the deck area.  He was wearing a faded pair of light blue cut-off denims and a long sleeved white shirt, open. His bronzed chest was hairless and ripped; his six-pack was well defined but not bulging. He had shoulder length black wavy hair and fine chiselled features.  He was magnificent; Nick emitted a low whistle.

"He's a pretty boy!"

"Isn't he just.  He's also a lying and cheating little varmint."  Tom used the word with a tone of utter distaste.

"You're kidding?"

"I wish I was.  He sucks and fucks like a God.  But I never leave anything valuable lying around and I regularly check my collections.  I've said he can stay until Tuesday; then he must find another benefactor...since he also has several other lovers already I don't envisage any problem in that department."

"You are being careful aren't you?"

"You know me, that's my middle name."

Nick shook his head knowing that that was not the case. "You should be careful, you don't know..."

"I had him checked out.  A full physical; he's clean and I always use condoms..."  At Nick's raised eyebrows, he nodded.  "I know, I must be getting soft in my dotage."

"You told me you're never soft."

"I did?  Are you sure?  I have to be soft at work or they'd fire me for sexual harassment...all those pretty little girls.  Do I look straight?  I ask you?  They flutter their eyes at me...I'm convinced they think they can straighten me out."

"How is work?"

"Good.  Extra funding...my old connections; they want some particular research undertaken and they've paid the college big bucks for me to do it...and then the motherfuckers take the credit.  Anyway, darling, you're not here to talk about me.  I want to hear all about your old man.  Gilbert?  Fuck, he must be ancient."

"You know he isn't, he's fifteen years older, exactly.  He's always known as Gil."

"Holy Motherfucker?  That's the name of your old boss.  Oh.  My.  God.  You're fucking him aren't you?"

Nick grinned.  "I am.  I didn't know he was gay and he didn't know I..."

"Christ, not even with your Village People hair do?"

"Not even then."  Nick laughed.  "But he's married...to a woman."

"Nooo!  Tell me you're lying; tell me you're joking me..."

"No, unfortunately, I'm not.  But he's waiting for his divorce to come through...some legalities in Guyana we're waiting for; might not even be married...so..."

"You've got it bad, haven't you?"  Tom was serious.

"We have.  I know without a shadow of a doubt that he is the one."

"And penetration?"  Tom was always direct.

"Not happened...but it might.  I'm having therapy."

"Fuck me!  You're seeing a therapist so you can bang a man?  I've heard everything now."

"Not exactly."  Nick had obviously never told Tom about the assault, but hell, he could tell Tom. "I was raped when I was nine."  Nick almost laughed because Tom was never quiet; he always had something to say.  But he stood still, open-mouthed and stared at Nick.  "A babysitter, a woman, used stuff...toys...I don't know exactly.  You see, I never told anyone ever.  But I told Gil and then the therapist and now you."

Tom didn't appear to be able to talk and Nick was sure that was a first.  He still didn't move for several more moments but then shot forward and surprised Nick with a very strong bear hug.

"You poor little fucker.  How...no, please, do not tell me I couldn't bear to hear.  I apologise Nick.  I apologise from the bottom of my heathen heart for taking the piss out of you.  If I'd only known.  Fuck."

"It's okay, Tom.  I'm really, well almost, over it and like I say I think I will be able to do it."

Tom took Nick's face in his hands and spoke softly.  "You will, come to terms with it but you will forget it.  Nine years old.  Motherfucking cunt of a bitch."

Just then a voice came out of the deck area and in very broken English a man asked.  "Who the fuck is he?  Another one of your men?"

"Shut the fuck up, Carlo.  This man is my friend.  My very good friend.  Haven't you got something else you could do...like pack?  And don't pack any of my clothes...I'll check."

And that was the last they saw of Carlo while Nick was with Tom.  Tom was attentive and kind and it spooked Nick who was much more used to a brash, outspoken and funny man.

Tom had cooked a Tagliatelli Carbonara to die for...and a plaited pizza dough garlic bread stuffed with fresh garlic, herbs and mozzarella.  Nick was pretty certain he wouldn't be attacked by vampires that night...though he may well be vanquished to working on his own.  Although Tom had also made a tiramisu, Nick was too full to even sample it and had just a coffee.

Over dinner Nick had told Tom all he could about Gil and Tom was a keen listener who questioned remarks that Nick had made.  When he showed Nick out he walked to his truck with him.

"Thank you for telling me.  I feel privileged that you could share.  And you know your Gil?"

"Yeah."  Nick smiled.

"I wish I could find someone.  I wish I had it in me to commit...maybe I don't."

"You know what, Tom?  I pretty much gave up and then he knocked on my door and the rest is history.  It'll happen when you're least expecting it.  It's not going to happen when have leeches like Carlo hanging around.  Good fuck or not, is he worth it?"

"No way, Jose.  So I've got to wait until someone comes aknockin'?"  Tom spoke and then they both laughed.

"Yeah, that's it, exactly."

They hugged once more and Nick drove off to work...happier having seen Tom and to have told him.  It was getting a lot easier each time so maybe his parents wouldn't be that bad.  

As he neared the Vegas lights he had an idea; perhaps he should try and fix Tom up with some guy; after all he'd spent years trying to fix him up!   But who?  He knew no decent gay guys and they'd need to be special for Tom.  Very special.

***

The flight was twenty minutes late taking off and it only served to increase Nick's anxiety.  He didn't know if he would or could tell his parents and yet he knew that the moment he walked through the door something would happen.  He'd never...well not since college...gone home without first informing them he was on his way.  And he'd never gone home, not once, bringing trouble with him.

His palms were sweating and he was fidgeting in his seat as the plane took off and was climbing out of McCarran; a middle aged was women sitting next to him and she spoke to him.

"It's okay. Don't be worried."

"I beg your pardon, Ma'am?"

"I fly all the time and you're perfectly safe."

For a moment Nick had no idea what she meant and then he realised.  Since he'd dealt with aircraft crashes, albeit small aircraft, he knew full well that flying always carried a risk, but he was philosophical about that.  In a moment he decided to go with her theory.  He didn't want to get involved in discussing his life with a perfect stranger.

"Thank you, Ma'am.  I'll be okay.  I'm used to it but that still doesn't mean I have to like it."

"True.  Here have a candy to suck."

He took one from her and smiled his thanks.  He popped in into his mouth and put his head back and closed his eyes in the hope that she wouldn't continue talking to him...and he made a concerted effort to sit still.  The next thing he knew the announcement was being made to 'fasten your seat belts' as they prepared to land.  He'd slept for virtually the entire journey!  His neighbour smiled at him and spoke.

"That wasn't too bad was it?"

"No.  I hope I didn't snore."

"No, you're okay; I would have poked you in the ribs."

They both chuckled and by then they'd landed.

Nick only had a small carry-on bag so made a quick escape to the car rental office.  He rented a Prius, to see what the environmentalists were going on about.  He was trying to keep his mind off the task ahead.

He drove sedately along the highway toward his family home...missing the familiarity of his truck.  The sheer size of his truck made him feel safe among other traffic users and the rental car, chosen on an impulse, was far too small for his liking.

He could see the ranch's driveway and slowed down...he was going to stop but didn't and instead he indicated he was turning and turned into the drive.  The winter weather made it look barren, the trees swaying but with no leaves to rustle. The white fence looked pristine, he thought, it must have been painted and in the paddock four horses roamed, swishing their tails; two older horses wore coats.  He recognised them as his Mom's and smiled as he remembered the ribbing his Mom had gotten when she named them 'Texas' and 'Dallas'...but when she threatened to re-name them 'JR' and 'Miss Ellie' an uneasy truce was arranged. 

In the blink of an eye he was outside the ranch itself.  Only his Mom's car was parked there, so chances were she was home alone.  He sat for a few minutes in the car and then got out with his bag.  He walked up the three steps onto the porch and although he had his key, he thought he'd ring the bell first to alert his Mom that she was about to get a visitor.

He opened the door and walked through just as his mother was walking towards the door.  She stopped in her tracks.

"Nick!"

Nick dropped his bag and they went straight to each other's arms and hugged.  Nick's heart was thudding in his chest and he knew that at any moment...

"What are you doing here...not that it's not good to see you...but...what's wrong?"   Jillian Stokes had pulled back from Nick as she spoke, but left her arms around him and Nick's curse overtook him as the tears came tumbling down his cheeks.  "Oh, baby, tell me."

Of course he was completely incapable of speaking at that moment and he shook his head as he started to really sob, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

"Oh, Nicky.  Is it your boyfriend...has something happened?"

Nick pulled back up and managed to frantically shake his head and say.  "No!"

"Come here."  His Mom pulled him over to a bench seat they had in their hallway and sat down with him; she still had an arm around his shoulders and found a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and gave it to Nick.  "Whatever it is, it'll be okay.  I promise."

Her words made Nick cry more because he knew that he would have to tell her and he knew it would break her heart.  He shuddered with the sheer weight of his emotions and his Mom's handkerchief was wet through already.  It smelled like his childhood.  Whatever scent she used then she obviously still used and he had no idea what it was.  Lavender maybe.  That was it; he could hardly understand why he was thinking these thoughts when he had to tell her why he'd come home.

"Momma?"

"What is it, honey?"

He hiccoughed and took a ragged breath.  "I'm having therapy."

"Really? Are you?"  She was very surprised.  "Why is that?  Is it work?"

He shook his head again and took three very deep breaths that made him a little dizzy.  "When I was nine...I was...I was...assau...attacked...by a babysitt..."  Nick was completely unprepared for his mother's response.  She screamed.

"NO!  NO!  She didn't!  Oh, Godddd, NO!"  She put her face in her hands and was wailing, really loudly.  "NO!"  Over and over.

It stopped Nick crying, immediately, and he sat back and a sense of horror grew inside him as he realised...his mother KNEW.

"You knew?  You knew?  You knew?"  Nick asked repeatedly and incredulously.  His breathing was erratic and he was swallowing almost compulsively.  Jillian Stokes was rocking back and forth and she was now sobbing into her hands.  "Momma!  Momma!"  Nick shouted at her.  "You knew?"

Nick's shout bought her to her senses a little and she took her hands from her face and Nick saw the utter devastation there which was laid bare.  "You knew?"  He whispered the question this time.

"No.  No.  I didn't know until this minute..."

"...but you know something?"  She nodded.

She wiped her face with her hands and looked at Nick.  She began haltingly but then became stronger.

"When you were about fourteen or fifteen your father found out that she'd been arrested in Oklahoma for abusing two little boys she was babysitting.  She had a son, he was about four, and they found he'd been very badly abused and neglected.  We didn't know what to do.  You seemed a very happy well-adjusted boy and we just didn't want to...upset you unnecessarily.  We couldn't remember, specifically, if there was anything different with you after she'd been...but we thought you would have told us...we didn't think she had because you would have told us..."

"I was too frightened; she threatened me...said you'd all die if I told you and then she'd come and get me."  Nick whispered this to his Mom.

"Oh Nick. I'm so sorry."  This time she put her arms around Nick again and awkwardly hugged him since they were still sitting down. She was weeping quietly now.  "I failed you.  I utterly failed you."

Nick didn't want to say 'no, you didn't', because maybe she had.  He was sick for several days after the assault but she hadn't remembered, didn't remember that at all...not by the time he was fourteen or fifteen.  He could have had therapy then and been sorted out without having to carry his burden around for another twenty-five years.  He felt angry at what had happened.  He no longer felt tearful but he was resentful.  They knew.  What would his Dad say when he got home from work?  He still held his mother in his arms but he felt empty.  He wished he could speak to Gil.  Now.  Instead he thought of a question.

"What happened to her?  Was she found guilty?"

"It never went to trial..."

"...what?"

"She didn't get away with it, exactly...she hanged herself in jail."

"She's dead."  Nick thought about the finality of that statement.  His tormentor is dead.  "It's over."

"What do you mean?  Nick, if you need therapy..."  And she started weeping again.

"Gil...Grissom said that when Kelly Gordon died.  Not much else I can do...anyone can do."

"I'm so sorry, Nick, my baby.  So sorry.  It's all my fault.  It's all my fault."

Maybe it was, Nick thought.  He needed a drink and he needed to piss and he needed to speak to Gil.  He pulled away from his mother and she must have seen that as a sign that he was blaming her because she cried more heavily.

"I need a drink, Mom."

She nodded and tried to stand but she seemed very weak and Nick had to catch her to stop her falling.  Her frailty suddenly struck him; despite her still working and being, as Gil had said, at the top of her game, she was in her mid-seventies.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and they made their way along the hallway and into the kitchen.  There was a coffee pot already heated and he helped his Mom sit at the table.  He got two mugs and poured coffee into them.

"Still got a bottle of whisky for the coffee?"  He asked her.

She nodded and indicated a cupboard.  Nick opened it, retrieved the bottle and poured two generous amounts into their coffees and put them on the table and then left to go to the downstairs washroom.

When he came back he checked his watch and calculated the time in Paris...it would be sometime in the early hours of the morning regardless of the time difference.  Gil would definitely be in bed but Nick knew he was leaving his cell on all night...just in case Nick needed him.  And he needed him.

"Just going to make a call, Mom."

She was more composed and nodded.  "I'll call Bill."

"Okay."

Nick went into his father's study and pressed the speed dial for Gil.  Gil answered in a heartbeat.

"Nick.  Sweetheart.  What's happened?"

Nick took a deep breath and released it slowly as he heard Gil's voice.  Even though the voice was slightly agitated it calmed down Nick.

"Nick?  You okay?" Gil sounded really agitated now.

"Yeah, babe.  I'm okay.  What was it you said?  It's over?"

"Is it, my love?  Is it?"

"Yeah.  I told Mom.  She knew."  There was silence on the line as Gil obviously digested the information.

"What did you say?"   He obviously thought Nick had said something wrong or he'd misheard.

"You heard right.  She knew...well not exactly..."

"...what the fuck, Nick?"

"Hey, babe, it's okay, I'll explain."

"Sorry. I'm having some difficulty with the concept."

Nick sighed.  "You and me both.  When I was a teenager they heard that she'd been arrested for child abuse in Oklahoma and they were worried that she could have done it to me...but, fuck Gil."  He heaved another sigh. "They thought I was such a happy well-adjusted boy that it couldn't possibly have happened to me...they forgot about me being sick."

"Oh God.  What a fucking dilemma for them.  They could have mentioned it when you became an adult."

"Yeah.  I was angry at Mom...Dad isn't here, but I suppose they were trying to protect me, weren't they?

"I suppose so...I don't think there's a right or wrong answer.  She never suspected a thing...well, of course she didn't..." Gil answered his own question and was then silent.

"It's funny how things turn out isn't it?  Mom's phoning Dad right now."

"Was she upset?"

"Oh, yeah; I've never seen her so bad...she kind of wailed."  Nick shuddered at his recent memory. "It was awful.  She seemed to age before my eyes."

"I guess a shock that bad could do that."

"Yeah."

"Nick, why don't you see if you can get through to Heather?  Speak to her about it."

"I never thought, I'm sorry for wakin..."

"No!  I didn't mean instead of me...I meant as well as me.  I needed to hear what had happened and was expecting your call."

"Weren't you asleep?"

"I was dozing...I'm not in bed...or undressed."

"Thank you for being there for me."

"I love you.  I only wish I was there with you."

"It's okay.  I had to do this on my own.  But I feel loved...by you anyway."  And Nick chuckled a little ironic chuckle.  "Funny how things turn out."  Nick repeated himself.

"If it wasn't so awful it would be funny. You feel okay...I mean you're not okay, but you sound...I don't know, resigned, grounded is maybe the right word.  You said it's over?  Is it?"

"You told me that the night Kelly Gordon killed herself.  And it was.  Maybe this is over...it's nothing like I expected.  Jeez, Gil, I never expected, in my wildest imagination, this..."  Nick sighed yet again at the enormity of it all and the way it had turned out.  "Hey, babe, you need to get some sleep.  To a certain extent it is over, the very worst I was imagining hasn't happened and I'm still standing."

"Sometimes the thought of it is the worst of it...  But there is one thing, Nick."  Nick sensed that Gil was hesitating.

"What's that?"

"You said they didn't know and thought you were a happy boy...I thought you were a happy man.  I had no idea that this lay just under the surface until we were at Blue Angel.  Maybe you hid it a little too well."

"Yeah, I know.  I suppose."  Nick thought about it for a few moments.  "I think you're right...I just expected that my Mom and Dad would notice something...especially in the days after it happened and now she's said she didn't remember anything, at all.  It hurts, you know?"  Suddenly Nick's tears threatened again.

"I know.  I understand how much it has hurt you and will continue to hurt you.  But you have made significant strides now to heal...you must know that.  I will be with you...fucking not at your side as I would want to be...but I think of you constantly; the last thing I think of as I go to sleep is you and the first thing I think of when I wake...is you.  You are my life now and I want you to remember that.

"I do.  I do.  I love..."  Nick didn't finish because just then the front door of the ranch banged open and he heard his father bellow.

"Jillian.  Nick."

"Was that your father?"  Gil had heard.

"Yeah.  Better go.  Love you.  I'll call in a few hours when you've had a chance to sleep."

"Call me anytime.  I'm not going to bed I'll stay in the chair with my cell right by me.  I love you.  More than anything."

"I'll remember that.  I'd better go."  Nick waited for Gil to end the call, but he didn't.  "End the call.  I can't."

"Okay.  I will. I love you."  The line went dead.

Nick took a few breaths.  He could hear his father shouting in the kitchen and he thought he'd better go and face the music; he moved towards the door just as it swung open...

***

"What the hell is going on?  What have you told your mother?"

"What do you mean what have I told her?"

"Concocting a tale thirty years late?  Is that your idea of a good way to try and kill your mother?"

Nick physically reeled backwards at his Dad's words. "You think I made it up?"  Nick whispered the question but then he was overtaken by years of pent up rage and fury and he screamed at his father.  "You think I'd make up something like that?  You seriously think I made it up?  That she pushed things up my NINE YEAR OLD ASS?  You fucking bastard...you should have protected me.  YOU."  He was so blinded by rage that he didn't see his father wince and almost deflate at his words.  He flew at the man he called 'Dad' and although he was several inches smaller and a lot lighter than him he grabbed the lapels of his coat and raised him from the ground and screamed in the face just inches from his own. "That she masturbated herself using my NINE YEAR OLD FINGERS."

"Nick!  Bill!"  Jillian shrieked behind his father.  "Stop it.  Stop it.  Please.  Stop it."  She was wailing again and Nick let his father go...he'd offered no resistance at all.  Nick stepped back and looked at his father with contempt.

"Thirty-one years on May fourteenth.  I have lived every single day with the knowledge and you knew what she did to some other boys and never questioned me?   I put on a fucking good show didn't I?   And you think I should be still putting on a show to save your feelings?  I was nine years old...and I was sick, you kept me home from school because you thought I was getting sick. I was...raped."   What had started as a shouted testament to his parents ended with a whisper.  "'I'm going home...to Vegas."

Nick walked past them both.  His father standing stock still in the doorway and his mother, sobbing, behind him.  He walked into the hall way and his bag was still by the door and the door was still open where his father had banged it.  He picked up his bag and walked out of the door, the cold winter wind whipping around him as he realised he'd left his jacket in the kitchen.  But he couldn't turn back.

He almost staggered down the steps of the porch...the adrenaline rush he'd just experienced was wearing off and leaving him weak.  He got to his car and searched for his keys, he couldn't find them, they were in his jacket pocket...in the kitchen.  He dropped his bag and leaned his arms against the car and put his head on his them, his tears blinding him; his sobs painful in his throat and chest. The next thing he knew strong arms were prising his arms from the car and wrapping him in an almost suffocating hug.

"I'm sorry, son.  I'm sorry, son."  His father was holding him up and repeating his mantra over and over.  "I'm sorry, son.

He must have slept because he awoke with a start and wondered where the hell he was.  He looked down and around.  He was in his parent's bed; he appeared to be fully clothed but he was covered with a blanket and he was felt very hot.  He couldn't quite remember how he got into the house or even upstairs...just some bleary memory of being half carried by strong arms.  He turned his head and his Mom and Dad were sitting in two chairs right by the bedside watching him with fearful expressions.  Like caricatures of themselves.  He almost laughed but then thought better of it.

"I need a pi...pee."  He pushed back the blanket, sat up and swung his legs off the bed.  He went to leave the bedroom but his Mom stopped him.

"Use our bathroom, please."

"Oh, okay."  It had always been out of bounds when he was growing up.  They all had to wait in line for the main bathroom and he was always the last in that line.  He took a long piss and remembered what had happened.  He felt himself going hot at the thought of his attack on his Dad.  As he washed his hands he looked in the mirror at his blotchy face.  What a mess.  But he felt good.  Light.  He smiled at himself.  His Dad had forgiven him for the attack, or he wouldn't be sitting by his bedside.  It was over.  It was over, finally.  It wasn't a secret.  And she was dead.  She'd never come back for him.  He hadn't told Gil that.  Christ, what time was it?  He looked at his watch.  Half past midnight.  Where was his cell?

He went back into the bedroom.  "Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Don't say you're sorry.  I deserved it all and more.  I hope you might find it in your heart to forgive me, us...one day.  We cannot tell you...there are no words to tell you, how sorry we are...for everything.  If I could take it all back I would.  If I had known I would have killed her with my bare hands."

Nick sat on the side of the bed and noticed his Mom silently weeping.  "I feel better.  I feel better now that you know...I've...let go of my burden.  I felt guilty for not telling you..."  His Dad went to speak.  "...hear me out, Dad. I kept it a secret because she threatened me and I was terrified.  How I managed to hide it, I don't know, but I did.  The longer I hid it the more I knew I couldn't tell you.  I seemed a happy well-adjusted boy because I was...when I got old enough to really understand what she'd done...I realised it was a hollow threat but it was too late and she'd left...I heard the argument you had with Dan about her.  She was pregnant by one of his friends, I think, and was paid to leave town."  His father nodded.  He noticed his mother had stopped crying and was listening to him.

"I got by...it's always been in the background but I lived with it and I had to have therapy twice through work and never said a word about it and they said I was okay..."   He chuckled.  "...but I told you I had found myself someone special and to be with him..."  He paused, thinking about whether he should tell them and decided on a brief explanation.  "To be with him, physically, I knew that I needed to talk about what happened.  Now I have a friend and she's a therapist and she's been helping me...she says I'm okay because I have told my partner, the first person I've ever told, and then her...but she said I should, I needed, to tell you, too.  Because it was...your responsibility, not mine...  Does this make sense?"

Bill Stokes looked at Jillian and then back at Nick.  "Yes, it does.  We understand and we know we have failed you.  More than words can ever say, Nick.  I'm so sorry."  And then something happened that Nick had never seen before in his life.  His father put his head down and wept.  Jillian reached over to her husband and put her hand over his.  Nick just watched and couldn't do or say anything.  In some weird way he thought that his father deserved to be upset but then he thought that it.  Was. Over. 

"Dad, Mom.  I think it's over for me.  I've done what I've had to do, faced up to the demons and beaten them.  I know it's terrible for you...but you should be relieved that it's over for me.  Take comfort in that now because it's been a fucking...sorry, Momma, it's been a long time and I don't think we need to expend any more energy, any of us, going over it again and again.  It happened. I'm over it now.  I'm hungry, is there anything to eat?"

His mother looked at him.  Asking if there was anything to eat in this home was like asking if the Pope was Catholic.

"I'll go and rustle up a sandwich."  Nick jumped from the bed.

"No, let me."  His Mom stood up.

"You go to bed, it's past your bedtime.  I've been on graveyard so my sleep's messed up."  Nick was by the door but he thought of something else.  "Might as well tell you; my new boyfriend?  Gil Grissom.  My old boss.  We got together at Christmas."

His father had recovered and they both looked startled at his revelation.  He didn't expect them to go to bed and guessed they'd follow him to the kitchen.

They did.  His mother gently pushed him away from the fridge and then set about making him a cheese, ham and tomato sandwich, with a pickle.  It had long been a favourite of his, along with tunafish, of course, but if Nick thought they would question him about Gil, he was wrong.  As he looked at them both he saw them, perhaps for the first time, as the elderly parents they were.  And they looked drained and defeated.  He'd never seen them like this before and as he sat waiting for his sandwich he had a real twinge of guilt for telling them but it was almost immediately replaced by the feeling of relief.  He was going to be okay and they would have to learn to live with the knowledge as he had.  They'd had a chance to make it right twenty-five years before and had failed.  He wondered how it would affect their lives from now on...if it would at all, but he guessed it would.

He then thought, for the very first time, if any of his sisters should be told but he dismissed that straight away.  It had nothing to do with their lives.  Or Dan.

"You're not going to tell anyone are you?  I mean the girls, Dan."

"We will tell no-one, I can promise you, unless we have you express permission."  His Dad made their position clear.

"I don't think they need to know.  Talking about it has helped me come to terms with it for the first time in my life...but that would be a step too far."

"You seem to be...recovered."  His Mom spoke.

Nick shook his head.  "I have learned to live with it since it happened, but even after all this time I still needed to talk about it and I never had; once I told to Gil, and then Heather, it all came tumbling out and the sense of relief....well, it's been almost overwhelming.  I've never felt better.  For the first time in thirty-one years, I don't have a secret."

Neither of his parents spoke but if Nick had to put a word to the looks on their faces it would have been...shame.

***

Nick was hungry and he finished all of the sandwich his mother had made for him.

"I'm just going to phone Gil and then see if I can get some sleep...by the way, why was I in your bedroom...bed?"

His parents looked at one another and his Dad spoke.  "We didn't know whether you wanted to be in your old bedroom."

Nick looked at them incredulously.  "I slept in the same bedroom the night it happened...and practically every other night until I left for college."  Their shame was almost palpable and his mother looked bewildered.  "Look, it happened and it isn't going to go away.  But I'm going to make myself move on now.  None of us can change the past; we've just got to learn to live with it.  I regret not telling you that night...but then...I was only nine.  I regret not telling you when I got older.  And now, I'm sure, you will have the same regrets.  We can't change it, we have to learn to live with it...and now that I've told you about Gil as well, I have no more secrets.  I hope it's the same for you."

His Dad looked at him for a few moments and then spoke.  "For some reason, Nick, and I have no idea why, I have always looked on you as a boy...not the man you've become.  It could be because you are our youngest, or that you are single and have no family of your own, so you've remained young to me, us, in that way.  But tonight I've seen you as the man you've become.  And I know you say you've carried this secret with you for all these years, but in that time you've grown up, gone through school and college...got excellent grades and you are a forensic scientist and hold down a very responsible job, with staff.  All of that time you've had this...this terrible secret and still... 

"I am very proud of you, son, your backbone must be made of the strongest steel known to man.  I know I've failed you, but you have not failed me, not once...oh, I'm sure I'll eventually learn to live with the shame of my actions, but I will take to my grave, and beyond, the love I have for the bravest son any man could wish for."

Bill Stokes had sat still at the kitchen table as he spoke, quietly but purposefully but then stood up and walked around the table to where Nick sat and gently pulled Nick to his feet to hug him close.

"I love you, son."

Nick hugged back and remembered hugging his Dad at New Years.  Then going back to Gil.  They'd fallen in love and all of this shit had come to the surface and had had to been dealt with.  He chuckled and pulled back to speak to his Dad.

"I love you, Dad.  Nothing's going to change; it's going to be okay.  What do you think, Mom?"

She smiled a watery smile betraying the tears she'd shed in the past hours.  "Yes, it will be okay.  When are you going to bring Gil to meet the family?"

"He comes home in May, so after then."

"Bring him home for the fourth of July.  Let's get all the family here, Bill, and celebrate."

"Good idea.  What do you say, Nick?"

"If I can get the time off work, then we'll be here."

"How long are you staying now?"

"I have to go home tomorrow.  Flight's at three."

"I'll take the day off..."

"...and me."  Finished Jillian Stokes after Bill had spoken.

"It's getting really weird now...you never take days off, neither of you."  Nick smiled at them.

"If I want to spend the day with my son, I will."

"That's real good.  Look, I have to speak to Gil; I think he's stayed up all night in Paris waiting for me to call."

"Call him and we'll go to bed.  Come on, Jillian.  Turn the lights off when you come up."

Nick chuckled again.  That was the last thing his father always said to any of them when he went up to bed.

Nick sat down at the table again and called Gil and like before it was answered within a second.

"Are you okay?  I've been worried."

"Yeah.  I'm okay.  What about you, did you get some sleep?"

"A little.  I slept fitfully.  I dreamed of you...but when I woke I couldn't remember what it was...  But Nick?  How are things with your parents, what's been happening?"

"They're okay now but we had a few...issues...and I've told them about you and you're invited to the family Fourth of July."

"I am?  That's good.  What issues?"

"Dad thought I was lying..."

"...what?"  Gil practically screeched down his ear.

"Hold you horses, man!  I attacked him...well held him up by the lapels of his coat while I shouted in his face...and left the house and...Dad came out after me and apologised and we talked, I slept, I ate..."

"...you ate?  You were hungry so it must be okay."  Nick could here relief in Gil's voice at the small detail of eating.

"Yeah...Mom made a sandwich and everything will be okay."  Nick actually chuckled.  "I cannot tell you how much better I feel...I have no secrets...for the first time in over thirty years I feel...free."  Nick felt relieved and happy and almost incredulous that it was over.  He had no doubts, whatsoever.  "It's over, Gil.  Really over."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so pleased for you...I wish I could hold you in my arms and just...well, just hold you."

"Yeah, I know.  But soon.  Hell, it's only just over four weeks now; with us both working hard it will just flash past, you see."

"It will.  You're right.  An eternal optimist...that's probably what's kept you going all this time!"  Gil laughed.

"Yeah."  Nick yawned, the events of the day catching up.  "I need some shut-eye.  I hope you don't feel too bad at school."

"I'm okay...I'm giving my swim a miss this morning but I've worked harder in shifts at the lab.  Remember me to Heather...are you going to another Cirque show this week?"

"Maybe Friday...depends on work."  He yawned again.

"Go to bed, Nicholas Stokes."

"Yes Sir, I will.  I hope I have sweet dreams of you."

"I hope so too...good night, sweetheart."

"Love you.  Night.  Oh, Gil?  She's dead.  I forgot to tell you."

"She?  The babysitter?"

"Hanged herself in jail before the trial.  Apparently she abused her own kid very badly as well as two young boys and God knows how many others...but she's dead."

"Then it is over."

"Yeah, it is...and it's sad for everyone; she was obviously sick...mentally sick."

"I would think so.  It is over for you.  When you go to sleep imagine that I'm spooned behind you, holding you close..."

"...and safe.  I do, every time I get in bed."

"Me too.  Get to bed.  Speak soon...Skype, so I can see you, when you get back to Vegas."

"Yeah."

"Love you.  Bye."  And Gil ended their call.  Nick could not remember ever feeling so relaxed as he did at that moment. The weight that had been taken off his shoulders was an actual physical feeling.   He was tired and he would sleep, for the first time in all the years since the assault, without fear.  Without nightmares.  Without secrets.  But especially...without fear.

***

Gil ran up the steps to his apartment and in his shaking hand the key failed to find the lock for several long moments.  Once inside his apartment he slammed the door shut and leaned against it and exhaled heavily.

He spoke to the empty hallway. "You are a fucking idiot, Gilbert Grissom.  How did you not see that coming?  How?"  He shook his head and pushed himself away from the door.  He checked the time. Just after eleven in the evening, Saturday evening.  So it would be five in the afternoon in Vegas and Nick would be working until ten that night...and that was if he didn't have to work over...it was Saturday after all.  Nick had put in some long shifts in the last few days.  He was due to call Gil from Vegas in the morning but that would be afternoon to Gil and he couldn't wait...  He would e-mail Nick and he could pick it up on his iPhone at work.  How hoped he would.

So Gil got himself a stiff drink, a brandy, and fired up his laptop.

Nick

Forgive me for mailing you while I know you are at work.  But I hope you do pick it up and it is not too much of a distraction.

I am such an idiot.  I really cannot believe what I am about to tell you actually happened to me tonight.  I assure you I did not see it coming, at all.  This, I am afraid, kind of sums me up.  I will start at the beginning...

You remember I told you about Marie-Auguste?  She is a Botanist here at the University and she befriended me as soon as I arrived.  She had spent many years teaching in the US and was widowed some years ago.  I think she is about 45.  She has been a 'good' work colleague.  We have often had coffees and lunches together, but when I got back this semester she said that she would like to invite me over for a meal.  She loved cooking, she said, and it was no fun cooking for one.  So we agreed on this evening.  I got there about 8.30 and she greeted me with a good red and we chatted, in her kitchen, as she went about putting the finishing touches to dinner.

When it was nearly ready she just turned to me, we were still in the kitchen, and slipped her arms around my waist and said, 'it's about time, Gil, that we consummated out relationship', or something like that and she was smiling.  I suppose I should say seductively, but it did not last long.  She must have seen the look of abject horror on my face and she pulled back slightly and I just shrugged and said, 'I'm gay, I thought you knew'.  Although, in truth, I'm pretty certain it has never come up in conversation or anything so maybe she did not know, no, scratch that, of course she had no idea. I haven't even got your picture on my desk at work and that is remiss of me.

(I have the one photograph, of both of us, here by my laptop because I spend a lot of time sitting here and the other one of you grinning at me is by my bedside.  Your grin at me every morning and it really does cheer me up.)

Anyway, back to the story, oh, Nicky, sweetheart, it was awful.  We had been good friends and afterwards it was all stilted conversation and embarrassment.  I said I would go and she said no, she had cooked so I might as well eat.  It was terrible. Awful.  And any other words you can imagine.  The meal should have been great and I am sure it was.  Boeuf Bourguignon, and it was delicious but you can imagine that every mouthful felt like broken glass.  As soon as I had forced every morsel on my plate, down my throat, I made my apologies and very nearly ran back here...and it must be at least a mile from her apartment.

I don't know if we can mend our friendship, I think women tend to feel very upset and embarrassed if they are turned down, but they are supposed to like gay men and consider them safe.  But Marie-A didn't want safe she wanted sex.

I feel better for having written this mail to you and maybe I'll send her some flowers as a peace offering, what do you think?

I miss you very much.  I wanted to tell you straight away and speak to you, but I know you are busy.  I cannot wait until you get here – maybe you will meet her and she will realise that she stood no chance!!

I have just finished a large brandy and am about to go to bed.  Take care at work and know that I love you very much.

Gil xxx

Gil pressed 'send' and in a second the mail was delivered to Nick.  

He sat back in his chair and decided that the circumstances warranted another brandy...a smaller one this time.  He sat there for a few moments and then decided to switch on the television.  He very rarely watched television.  He was usually too busy or listening to music instead, but he thought he would channel surf and see if there was any programme in English that was only close captioned in French.  His French was getting better but concentrating hard to decipher a television programme gave him a headache and he usually missed the point anyway.

He spent a few minutes checking out shows then landed on a station with a show that appeared to be set in some kind of laboratory.  He watched intently for a few minutes and his French was serving him quite well.  It was, as he'd thought, a Forensic laboratory and the actors were investigating a murder.  Checking evidence.  He smiled as he watched this team sift through a pile of evidence on a table not dissimilar to the evidence table in the Vegas lab.  Gil kept watching and gathered that the team were French CSI's and that the show was called, Les Experts.  They were an assorted set of actors going through the motions and then Gil sat up in his chair.  An actor walked into the room with some more evidence and he was Nick's double.  He was telling them all what he'd found and what he thought and they were all hanging onto his every word.  He must be the boss, Gil thought.  Nick's doppelganger: a French actor trying to be a forensic scientist.  He must tell Nick about this.

He pottered around getting ready for bed and was cleaning his teeth when his cell rang.  With his toothbrush still stuck in the corner of his mouth he picked up the call without looking at the caller information.

"Nicky!"  He mumbled.

"Non, ici Marie-Auguste."

"Oh, Marie...I'm sorry, just cleaning my teeth hold on..."   He went back into his bathroom and quickly rinsed his mouth.  "I'm sorry about that."

"Nicky is your lover, yes?"

"Yes, he is.  He works shifts in Las Vegas so we have to speak to each other at odd times.  About tonight..."

"...non, non. I must apologise to you, it was unforgiveable to just...how do you Americans say...jump your bones?"

Gil laughed.  They were going to be okay.  "No, I could have mentioned it to you so it wasn't such a shock."

"It was a shock, I had no idea.  Obviously."  She laughed and she was suddenly more relaxed.  "I do not want us to stop being friends so I thought I would call you..."

"...and I thought I would send you some flowers as way of apology."

"Oh, then you must still do so, I love flowers and then we will be quits."

"We will.  It's a deal."

"And will you come to dinner next Saturday and we can enjoy our company without an elephant taking up the room?"  She laughed and Gil thought that maybe she had a drink, or two, as he had.

"Why not make the Boeuf Bourguignon again, I'm sure it was delicious but I can hardly remember eating it?"

"An excellent idea.  Bon nuit, ma cherie."

"Bon nuit, Marie-Auguste."

He ended the call and was just going back into the bathroom to clean his teeth properly when the phone rang out again.  This time he did look at the caller information and it was Nick.

"Man, do you get yourself into some scrapes.  At least you didn't feel compelled to marry her there and then."

Gil laughed.  "I do have form for that don't I?"

"You do.  I called a minute ago and you were engaged."

"It was Marie...she called and apologised and we're friends again and I'm going back for Boeuf Bourguignon again, next Saturday.  I hope I can enjoy it next time."

"I can't stop to talk but I thought I'd let you know anyway...there's been a murder at the Deaf institute.  I got to interview your Mom..."

"...is she a suspect?"  Gil sounded serious to Nick.

"No...but you think she could be?"  Nick was joking.

"No, of course not...you're joking me aren't you?"

"I am.  Must go, love you and don't, whatever you do, marry Marie-Auguste...me first!"

"You want to marry me?"  Gil felt suddenly bereft without his lover.

"I do.  I'm counting on you to make an honest man of me."

"I will, Nicky, I will.  As soon as you want."  The line was quiet. "You there?"

"Yeah...it would be good wouldn't it?"

"Yes."

"Got to go. Love you. Bye.

"Love you."  Gil ended the call.

He sat down on the bed, the cell phone still in his hand and thought about Nick and marriage.  It felt wonderful just to think of it and although he really had not given the matter any thought at all until this moment, it seemed the right and proper thing to do.

He forgot about his teeth and got into bed and smiled at the photograph of Nick; he fell asleep wondering what they would be called.  Man and husband?  Husband and husband?

***

It was awkward at the scene with Betty being so pleasant to Nick and unpleasant to Sara.  But Nick was philosophical, Sara only had herself to blame; whether it was Betty Grissom or anyone else she never exuded any friendly signs and tended to get anyone's back up straight away.  It was unfortunate but it was a fact of life and Nick had long since given up being offended by her high and mighty attitude.  She was invariably wrong anyway.  He smiled a little smile to himself at that.  It was true.

He managed to corner Betty and spend a few minutes just passing the time of day.  As he was about to leave her, he remembered what he'd been meaning to ask.

"Betty?"  He spoke very quietly since there was no need to speak at normal volume.  "I was thinking it would be a good idea to learn ASL and I could properly talk to you then.   Could you recommend a teacher?"

She smiled and tapped her own chest.  "I will teach you, Nick, and we can gossip about Gilbert.  Text me and we will set up a date."

Nick's grin spread across his face and he knew he had Betty as a friend and ally.  "I will.  As soon as this case is over."  He touched her arm affectionately and she covered his hand with her own hand and smiled at him.  God, he missed Gil, and she was so like him.

Despite work being hectic he'd been to see Heather twice; once immediately after he'd returned from Dallas and once later, but they hadn't managed to get to another Cirque show as Nick's time off, such as it was, didn't match any performances.

Heather was as pleased as she could be at Nick's admission to his parents but angry that they had hidden the arrest of the woman from him.  Nick felt okay about it; he acknowledged that it could have been different but it wasn't and he couldn't change that any more than they could.  But he was absolutely free of his demons and he felt he could be magnanimous towards his parents since they thought they'd done their best for Nick, and really they were good parents.  Nick had told her that Gil had said it was an almost impossible decision to make and Heather agreed with his assessment even if she thought, ultimately, they'd made the wrong decision.

But like Nick had said it couldn't be changed; it was what it was.  Heather was also of the opinion that Nick didn't need any more therapy, such as she had given him.  He was grounded and aware.  She really didn't think it would cause him any lasting problems since he had worked through them all...the only obstacle in his way was penetration and she advised him to just give it go...

They arranged to go and see a Cirque show the following week when Nick should have a day off.  Love...the show inspired by the music of The Beatles; it was at The Mirage and they could follow the show with a Chinese meal at Fin in the same hotel.

Nick also texted Betty to have his first ASL lesson. 

At work keeping Ray focussed was getting increasingly difficult since he was, in Nick's opinion, (and Catherine agreed, quite categorically) becoming increasingly obsessed with Nate Haskell.

Life was hectic for Nick;  work, working out, eating and keeping house...he missed Gil and although he'd joked about it, it was a responsibility; keeping the house running with food, paying the bills, cooking.  Seeing Heather helped ease the stress and Tom, of course.  He'd had two teas with Betty and had done some basic work with ASL and she'd given him some homework...and he'd been diligently practising just before he went to bed every day.

But mostly it was work, when he said to Catherine he would be able to work long and hard in Gil's absence she'd taken him at his word.  The only good side was the overtime money...he was getting more overtime now than Sara did in her heyday.  But he was a saver and with his two vacations coming up he put the money away to pay his way, although Gil had already bought all his flight tickets.  And he wouldn't hear of having any money back for them, citing Nick's hospitality when he been penniless and homeless.  And loveless...

They had a surprise that day in the lab, the Doctor's wife visited...and Nick was immediately aware, unlike Hodges, who really was the most clueless guy in the entire world, that there was tension.  Nick didn't have to guess very hard to determine they lived separate lives.  He was chatting to Sara about her when she walked past the lab window and the moment she'd passed Nick's iPhone sounded.  It was Gil's tune for a call.

"Got to take this."  He said to Sara as he hastily answered his cell.  "Hold on."  He said into the cell while walking out of the lab and going to his office.  He didn't close the door but kept a look out for anyone walking by...

"What is it?  Is everything okay?"  He asked urgently.  Gil had never called him at work.

Gil's voice sounded emotional as he began to speak to Nick.  "Sweetheart, it's more than okay.  I'm not married..."

"...what...I...how..."

"All of those things my love.  I just had an e-mail from my lawyer and I called her first to confirm.  It was a betrothal ceremony.  We promised to marry....we didn't marry.  And no documents were filed anywhere.  It was just the church...the mission's log which we signed.  The PI has all the documents, they've been authenticated in Guyana by a church and a court official...with affidavits.  And Sara's lawyer has been notified."

Nick sat down heavily in his seat and looked over at the foetal pig, a reminder of Gil's reign as Supervisor, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Are you there?  It's a bit overwhelming isn't it..."

"...it's great news.

"It is and my foolishness has turned out to be nothing more than that.  I discussed what to do about Sara...and the house.  I was willing to give her twenty thousand, but the lawyer said five, I felt that was mean so we compromised on ten grand.  And allow her to stay in the house until the end of April and that will give her plenty of time to find somewhere else.  Oh, and I'm not paying any more of her utility bills..."

"...you've been paying?"  Nick did not know that.

"Yes, I was paying.  I thought we were married, Nick."

"Yeah, I guess.  Wow, Gil.  It means I won't be marrying a divorcee!"  He chuckled.

"That's true."

"It also means I've got to tell Sara."

"You needn't...I can do that, in fact she doesn't need to know."

"Hey, I'm not really bothered...after what I've been through these last few weeks, it'll be nothing.  But I owe it to her to tell her, and I will."

"Of course you will, because you're a good and kind man and I love you."

"I know you do.  I'd better go.  We've got a head..."

"...but you ain't got no body?" Gil sang down the line.

"That was terrible!   We've got some bits and pieces; they were delivered to a thrift shop."

Gil chuckled.  "People are inventive, don't you think?"

"Yeah.  Love you, I'll Skype when I get home."

"I look forward to seeing you.  Bye."

Nick sat back in his chair and smiled to the room.  That was great news...for him and Gil; not so good for Sara.

Nick went back to the lab and worked with Sara for a couple of hours.  It was like old times with no hint of any tension.  Nick wondered when she'd find out.  If her lawyer would be as quick with the bad news as Gil's lawyer was with the good news.

Gil was being quite good to her though; letting her live rent free in his house for over two months even if she had to pay her own bills now.  And ten grand, but he bet most of that would be used up paying for her lawyer.

He would tell her as quickly as he could.  As soon as he knew that she knew about the non-marriage, he'd give her a few days to come to terms with it and then...wham, bam!  The sooner she knew the sooner he would deal with any fall out.  Which reminded him to tell Catherine about the outcome so that she could be fully prepared in the event of any problems.

Today had been a good day, Nick decided. 

***

The day came three weeks later.   Nick knew she'd been informed because the lawyer had confirmed it but there was no change, whatsoever, in her demeanour.  No tell-tale signs that she'd just had some devastating news.  Nick decided she was either an excellent actress or she just wasn't that bothered by the outcome...but he just couldn't see that.  She'd thought she was married.  But she wasn't.

She was still working part time and she had her usual week off work, ostensibly to visit Gil in Paris although as far as Nick knew she never mentioned Gil, Paris, or anything to anybody and she certainly hadn't told Nick any more about her divorce.

It was Nick's day off and he decided to drive over to Gil's house and see if she was in.  If she was he would do the deed.

Her car was parked on the driveway and Nick left his truck in the road and walked up to the front door.  He took a couple of deep breaths and knocked.  He knocked again about a minute later and was just about to knock again when the door opened and Sara stood there in a tee shirt and sweat pants.

"Nick?  What brings you here?"

"I need to talk, Sara."

"Oh?  Well come on in; excuse the mess."

Nick walked into the living room and looked around.  She was packing, not huge amounts of stuff but a few books stood in piles on the coffee table and she had papers strewn over the dining table.  There were cardboard boxes stacked against a wall waiting to be made up.  She was definitely on the move, so that was surely good news.

"You want a drink?  Coffee?  Soda?"

"Yeah, a soda would be good, thanks."  Nick didn't really feel that bad about doing what he had to do.  He wasn't particularly nervous.  It was a job that he had to do, but it paled into insignificance after what he'd been through with his parents.  He supposed he would be more nervous if Sara was a wreck, or had appeared to be upset or anything but there was nothing.  Maybe she was as relieved as Gil...and him.

She bought him a glass and a small bottle of coke.  Decaffeinated and no sugar.  What he would have expected.

"So, what brings you to my door?  It's your day off isn't it...it's not work is it?"

"No."  Sara had walked to the couch and sat down so Nick followed and sat at the opposite end.  "I know...about your marriage.  About Gil."

Nick actually admired her.  She didn't react, blink, miss a beat.  Nothing.  No outward signs at all.  But he also had a moment of fear.  If she was this calm was she about to explode?  The calm before the storm.

"I see."  She eventually uttered the two words.

Nick took a deep breath and although he hadn't rehearsed his speech he knew what he wanted to say.

"Gil came back to Vegas.  On Christmas Day.  He'd lost his wallet and had nowhere to stay and came banging on my door.  Long story short.  I knew nothing, really, about him; he told me he'd been unfaithful to you and that you'd left him.  He also told me he was gay.  I'm gay.  I don't know if you knew that?"

Sara nodded.  "No evidence but one of the lab techs told me you were.  So you've hooked up with Gil?"  She still seemed so calm.

"Yeah.  It just happened.  We didn't know about each other until he came to stay."

"He lost his wallet?   Why didn't he go to his mother's house?"

"I didn't even know his mother lived in Vegas until we'd been together for a couple of weeks.  He said he was embarrassed by what had happened.  Didn't want to face his Mom."

"Betty hated me from the very first time she met me.  I wondered why she liked you and she seemed to know you...  Heather.  That's why you were out with Heather because she's Gil's closest friend."

"I'd only met Betty once before the murder.  But we did get on well.  Heather...well..."  Nick decided to be truthful.  "I've been seeing Heather in a professional capacity..."

"...for sex therapy?"  Sara was incredulous.

"No.  I had some issues from my childhood and I felt comfortable discussing them with her and we've become friends."

"Heather hated me from the first time I met her.  She's territorial about Gil, you should be careful."

"It's fine.  Sara, you seem remarkably okay about all this."  Nick thought there was obviously a theme running through all of Sara's life; she was convinced that everyone hated her.  Low self-esteem.  Paranoia even.

"Not much I can do is there?  The only man I've even loved turned out to be gay but the bastard didn't see fit to tell me before we married.  Married?  Ha!  Then he went off fucking any man that came his way...you do know he's promiscuous don't you?"

This was it, thought Nick, the dam had broken and he was about to get all the mud that had been stuck behind it.  It was what he'd been expecting.  He didn't respond to her question but it might have been rhetorical because she didn't stop for Nick to reply.

"I'm surprised he can get it up even for you...he had a great deal of trouble in the pants department..."  Now, Nick thought, she was contradicting herself.  "...but of course I was a woman.  Do you know why he went through with the marriage?  Do you know why he even agreed?  Because I don't."   She sat back almost expressionless.

"No, I don't.  I do know that he is ashamed of what he did, but he can think of no valid reason why he did it.  He has spent a lot of time trying to come up with an answer.  Especially, as you say, because he's gay."

"Is that what he told you?  That's pathetic.  I don't believe he doesn't have a reason."

"I believe him, Sara.  You do know him.  He's not a liar and I think he thought that he could marry you and work at it...you have a lot in common..."

"...so do you.  And you're gay."

"That's true.  I know he didn't want to hurt you, that's not in his nature.  He genuinely believed that you were married.  It was only when he gave the lawyer the marriage certificate to facilitate the divorce that questions were asked."

Sara suddenly slumped back in the couch and covered her face with her hands.  Nick watched her for a few moments and then realised that she'd started to cry and she gradually become more and more intense until she was sobbing...but weirdly...she was doing it silently.

Nick didn't know what to do; his natural empathy was to comfort her, but he didn't know if it would be appreciated.  But...he'd give it a go.  He edged along the couch and got to her side and slipped his arm around her shoulders.  She willingly let him and then to his astonishment she put her head onto his chest and was crying, almost sedately, into his shirt.

He rubbed her back soothingly but didn't speak.  It took some minutes but the tears started to subside.

"Sorry."  She mumbled and got up avoiding eye contact.  "Tissues."

She was gone for a few minutes and came back with a box of tissues and threw them on the couch and sat down again.

"I knew."  She said.

"Knew what?"

She swallowed and tears began to fall again.  "I knew we weren't married.  A woman on the project told me she thought it was suspicious and to check it out.  I never did, but I guessed."

"Oh."  Nick didn't know what to say.

"I never realised that the marriage would have to be authenticated in the States for the divorce to go through."

"Why didn't you tell Gil?"

She shrugged.  "He hurt me.  I wanted him to suffer.  I didn't mean for it to get this far.  Why does everyone hate me?"

"They don't!"   Okay, he thought, perhaps they dislike her.  "They don't hate you, Sara, but you have a very defensive attitude and it just comes over to people as..."  Nick was stuck for words.  He sighed.  His confrontation with his parents had thrown him off kilter and now this.  He had expected tears and maybe tantrums and screaming and hate from Sara.  But not this.  Not this at all...

"Arrogant.  Conrad Ecklie told me.  My fellow students at college told me.  Professors.  Catherine.  You name it...  The only person who was always kind to me was Gil and look what I did to him?"

"I don't know what to say.  If you know you have this problem...why don't you try therapy?"

"With Lady Heather?"  She spat it out and Nick jumped.

"No, I was thinking the departmental shrink.  Any therapist, really."

"You don't know what it's like to carry around the problems of your childhood.  You don't know what it's like to keep secrets from people and be worried they'd find out.  You have no idea..."

"...yes.  I do."  Nick spoke quietly and Sara stayed silent.

"The childhood issues?"  Nick nodded.  "That's why you're seeing Heather?"

"Yeah.  Gil helped me face up to them and for the first time in thirty-one years I feel free.  I cannot tell you how good it feels.  There are no words."

"We're the same age.  Could it really work for me?"

"I don't know.  But you won't know if you don't try."

She nodded.  "Are you going to tell Catherine?"

"No.  But you need to.  She is your supervisor."

"Yes.  I'll never make supervisor.  That's pretty clear."

"You never know."  Nick tried for optimistic but really he was as sceptical as Sara.

She smiled at him.  "Will you tell Gil?"

"I think I should.  But I'm going to see him in a couple of weeks, why don't you write him a note explaining and I'll give it to him?"

"You'd do that?  Of course you would, you're the nice guy everyone likes."

It was Nick's turn to shrug.  Who knew whether it was nature of nurture, or a bit of both, that made him amenable and Sara difficult.  He wondered if she could ever change her nature, therapy or not.

Sara agreed to do a letter and Nick said he wouldn't tell Gil the whole story.

On his way home Nick suddenly smiled and the grinned at nothing and no one; he'd bet good money on Heather dying to get Sara in therapy.  But it would never happen, of that, Nick was absolutely sure.

***

Nick kept his word and told Gil just the bare details of his visit with Sara...just saying that it had gone far better than he'd ever imagined; which was the truth.  Gil wasn't particularly bothered once he knew that Sara had been okay with Nick.  That had been his only worry.

Sara also kept her word and told Catherine that she was divorced.  Nick did tell Catherine that Gil and Sara had never been married in the first place, but that he was okay with Sara's half-truth and that Gil didn't know about it.  He told Catherine about the note.  The matter settled down within days and Nick began planning, in earnest, his trip to Paris.  He had a physical ache for Gil and when he'd told Gil, Gil had advised him to masturbate more often.  When Nick had said he did it at least twice a day already, Gil had groaned.

Nick had his shiny new passport and remembered to thank his Mom once more because he was certain he would have forgotten about it, if she hadn't said.  He'd been in very regular contact with his Mom and Dad since he'd returned from Dallas. They called and texted nearly every day and Nick was okay with that.  He felt that however belated it was they were finally supporting him.  He knew that that was unfair because they had always supported him; but now they knew, really knew, he was surprised at how much happier he felt with them both.

He saw Heather at least once a week and they had managed four Cirque shows and meals.  As far as he knew no one had seen them together again but Greggo would periodically ask questions about her.  In some ways Nick could hardly believe that Sara never had, and Greg apparently hadn't yet put two and two together.  After all Greg did start that bet about Gil and Heather and Nick had every intention of telling Greg that he needed to pay out the, 'no, they hadn't slept together,' bets when all was finally revealed!

Nick worked a late shift the night before he was due to fly to Paris.  He got into bed about midnight feeling tired but very happy, he was packed and ready to go, his alarm set for five.   When he woke up shortly before the alarm was due to go off he felt really sick.  He thought the excitement was the cause but after his shower he felt no better and couldn't face eating anything.  He double checked his suitcase and carry-on bag and was ready to go; he was taking his truck to the airport and the service personnel at McCarran gave LVPD staff free parking facilities so he was taking them up on their offer.

He couldn't eat and didn't fancy coffee so he'd made himself a tea to sip.  He still felt way under par when he drove to the airport, but he still put it down to nerves.  He booked in and got rid of his suitcase.  He sat in the departures lounge by his gate and bought a couple of bottles of water to sip.  In truth he knew that he was gradually feeling worse and he thought he was going to be physically sick.  The mere thought that he would be sick had him almost running to the restroom and heaving his guts out in a stall.  He'd only had fluids but they all came back up.

After he'd stopped vomiting he washed his face and then purchased a disposable toothbrush out of a machine in the restroom and brushed his teeth and rinsed mouth thoroughly.  He looked in the mirror.  He looked sick.  He was never sick but he reckoned that he was coming down with something.  What the fuck?  He hadn't eaten anything unusual; his food was all good.  He hadn't even had a beer for days...possibly weeks.  This was supposed to be one of the best days of his life and he was pretty certain he'd picked up a virus.  Life was fucking unfair; if another guy had not chosen that moment to walk into the restroom he would have started to fucking cry.  But he pulled himself back and swore at himself in the mirror.  "You fucking moron."  But so quietly as not to be heard.

He bought two more disposable toothbrushes, just in case, for his journey.  The flight was via Dallas and he shouldn't have to disembark, unless, like Gil's flight, there was a delay.

He texted Gil as he settled into his seat.  'On plane must turn off cell will SEE you soon. Love you very much. Nxox.' He smiled as he waited for a response but none came; it was eight in the morning in Vegas on a Friday and Gil would be teaching class in his afternoon. If the flight was on time it would be six-thirty or seven on Saturday morning when he arrived in Paris and saw Gil.   

Nick had an aisle seat in the middle row and there was no-one sitting next to him and he was grateful for that.  No need to talk to anyone; he'd had a quite a good sleep but reckoned he could sleep some more so decided to watch his TV until Dallas and then try and get some shut eye between Dallas and Paris.

When they landed in Dallas he checked his cell and smiled.

'I am very nearly 55 and yet I am as excited as a child on Christmas morning. The time has gone both fast and slow but now I know I will be seeing you soon I am twitching and fidgeting.  I will check your arrival time and will wait for you in the main hall at C de G airport.  You will know me because I will have the silliest, stupidest smile on my face. Ily Gxx'

Nick texted him back. 'At Dallas and there are no delays. I cannot believe this is happening and that I will really see you very soon. Love you. Nxox'

He had completely forgotten that there may be more passengers joining in Dallas and in fact he ended up with a huge guy sitting next to him, taking up not only his own seat but overlapping Nick's too.  He a loud Texan excited about going to Europe for the first time.  By the time the 'fasten your seat belts' sign was switched off Nick had a headache.  He asked a passing steward if he had any Tylenol and a few minutes later he was given a glass of water and two of them.  He also asked for some pretzels since he thought he would need something on his stomach and they would replace salts and were bland enough to eat.

He put on his headphones and turned on a film just to keep the guy next to him quiet but he was talking to another passenger on his other side and Nick could still hear all the conversation.  He must have fallen asleep because he awoke suddenly and knew that he was going to sick again.  He got up from his seat and luckily only had to wait for one person to use the toilet; he was just in time and the pretzels and water bit the dust.  His headache was still there but only a dull ache in the background so he would keep his stomach empty and just sip his water.  He went back to his seat and retrieved one of his disposable tooth brushes from his hand luggage and went back to clean up.

He was uncomfortable but didn't feel that bad and just stuck to frequent sips of his water; he reckoned, (he hoped) he'd just got some kind of twenty-four hour bug and he would be okay tomorrow.  But he could have wept at the thought of greeting Gil and being sick.  But then he thought that Gil would take care of him, look after him and nurse him back to health.  No one had ever cared for him when he'd been sick, well, not since he'd left home for college and even before his family weren't predisposed to caring for the sick, you went to bed, stayed there 'til you were better and then got up.  The thought of Gil sustained him through the boredom.  He watched a film but only half-heartedly and refused all food.  His neighbour had nudged him when he'd turned down his first snack and said that he would eat anything Nick didn't want.  Nick was incredulous, but what the hell, he gave the man all his food.

It was boring and he couldn't sleep anymore and he wasn't interested in the TV but kept his headphones on to escape talkative fat guy.  He got up and walked around the plane a few times and did the exercises they recommended to prevent DVT.  It passed a few minutes.  He wasn't sick again but felt as if he'd been punched in the gut but he thought he was lucky to have escaped having diarrhoea...now that would have been real bad on an airplane at thirty-seven thousand feet.

When they were coming into land his stomach started churning but he wasn't sure whether it was his bug or nerves.  But he was so happy at the prospect of seeing Gil he knew he was smiling to himself at the prospect.  While they were waiting to disembark he switched his cell on and a text from Gil came through.

'I saw you land and am waiting for you. Can hardly contain myself had to have about a dozen pisses I'm so excited!! Ily Gxx'

Nick laughed. 'Hope it is excitement and not your prostate. Love you. Nxox Wow, I'm here!'

It took an age to get off the plane and then get through immigration and then waiting for his luggage.  He took a piss and cleaned up again, using his last toothbrush to make himself a bit more presentable.  He looked in the mirror; he looked like shit.  He felt hot so he was running a temperature.  Gil would be so very disappointed, he knew he was very pale and despite him just swilling his face he had a sheen of sweat on it already. 

When his suitcase eventually rolled around he took it and pulled it behind him as he made his way out into the main concourse and there, right in front of him, was Gil.  He thought his heart would burst; he saw Gil's face with a beaming smile but in a nanosecond it was gone to be replaced by a look of concern and his waterworks turned themselves on without any help at all.  Big juicy tears rolled down his cheeks.  He stopped and Gil was with him in less than a second.

"Nick.  Nick, what's wrong?  You look sick?  What's wrong?"  At the same time he enveloped Nick is a bear hug, tight and all-consuming and Nick felt safe and loved.   Still sick...but what the hell.

Nick managed to mutter into Gil's neck.  "Been sick...once at the airport and once on the plane.  Think I've got a bug.  Sorry."

"Sweetheart, you can't help being sick and what a hell of a journey to make when you feel bad.  Come on let's get you home and tucked up in bed.  I'll take care of you."

Of course, Gil's kind words made him more emotional and here he was after all these weeks fucking crying and sick in the arms of the man he loved.

"I am sorry.  You don't want to be stuck with me."

Gil laughed.  "You bet, Nicky?  I do want to be stuck with you; sick or not, you're here and in my arms.  I have absolutely no complaints now come here, give me your carry-on and let's get back to the car and home.  It's half past seven; you can take a shower and be in bed in under an hour...depending on the traffic.  The traffic here is like nothing on earth, especially at this time of morning.  Hey, Nick.  Welcome to Paris and I love you."

Nick dried his tears and smiled. "I can't believe I got sick.  I'm never sick.  I love you, man, I love you."

"I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see you but when I saw you it was a bit of shock; you do look bad.   Pale and sweaty.  You running a temperature?"  He felt Nick's forehead with the back of his hand and Nick leaned into it and smiled.  "You are very hot.  Home.  I bought a stock of Tylenol with me so we'll get you cleaned up and in bed and keep you hydrated.  What do you say?"

"Just what the doctor ordered."

Gil had Nick's bag over his shoulder and they both had their hands on the suitcase handle pulling it along, with Gil's hand warm and tight over Nick's.

It took them twenty minutes to reach the car park and Nick was nearly ready to collapse but had refused Gil's offer to pick him up at the main building.  He was in Paris with Gil and he wasn't going to lose a second with him. It was also much, much, colder than Vegas...a bright morning but with a bitter wind and he was wearing his heavy duty anorak that Gil had told him to bring along...good job because he needed it.  Gil paid for his parking at the machine and they walked up to a car and Gil deactivated the alarm and opened the doors.  Nick stood staring.

"What is it?"  Gil laughed.  He knew.

***

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