Title: Maybe
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them
Summary: Nick finds that with Gil, "maybe" can be as good as "definitely".

"Maybe I should switch to teaching full time," Gil says, a propos of nothing.

They're sitting together for an early dinner after finishing a double shift, and Nick responds to the comment, more in order to keep the conversation going than because he thinks Gil has any serious intention of leaving CSI.

"How come?"

"I haven't enjoyed the job much since I became supervisor. Too much red tape, too many forms, too much politics. It's not what I want. The aspect I enjoy most is teaching, but there's nothing much left to do there either." Gil talks slowly, as if he's coming to the realization for the first time. He's stirring his coffee, looking down at his cup.

The introspective tone alarms Nick; what if Gil means it? He tries to imagine going to work and no longer seeing Gil on an almost daily basis, no longer being able to interact with him. It's a poor second to what he'd really like to have with Gil, but it's all he's got.

"We'd miss you," he says, but his voice sort of chokes at the end of the short sentence, even though he was aiming at nonchalance.

Gil looks up then, meeting Nick's eyes, an odd smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "That would be up to you. I hope not."

Nick stares into Gil's blue eyes for a second – or maybe for a lot longer than that, he doesn't really know – and then looks away, at a loss for words.

----------

"You know, maybe we should move in together."

Nick stops in his tracks and stares at Gil. The comment comes out of the blue, as Nick pauses for breath in the middle of a speech about how he should have known better than to let a man who will voluntarily watch Baraka "or that Koya-something movie" choose what they were going to see that afternoon.

"Wh-What?" he stutters, his heart turning somersaults.

Grissom doesn't repeat himself. He stands with his hands in his jacket pockets, smiling at Nick. "What do you think?"

Nick wants to be rational. They began dating two years ago, a week after Gil left CSI for a teaching position at ULV. During the past six months he's dropped a couple hints regarding taking the next step, but Gil never seemed to pick up on them and ultimately Nick chickened out of pursuing the matter further. He was fine with what they had. Wanting more was just greedy. And Gil's comment, starting out with maybe? It doesn't indicate a lot of certainty in what he's suggesting.

He wants to be rational. He knows they should discuss this. But he's grinning like an idiot and what comes out of his mouth is: "I think that's an excellent idea!"

----------

"Maybe we should consider getting married."

They're lying in bed together, Nick almost dozing off in a haze of post-coital bliss, Gil sitting up against the pillows and watching the news. It's May 20, 2004 and the TV is still with awash images of couples celebrating outside churches and city halls in Massachusetts.

Suddenly Nick is wide awake. He rolls over onto his side and looks at Gil.

"Are you serious?" he whispers. He has a sudden urge to burrow into the covers, hide his head, because this has got to be a joke, and Gil has no right to make jokes like that.

Gil scoots down on the bed until he's lying down face-to-face with Nick. He takes one of Nick's hands and clasps it between both of his.

"Why not, sweetheart? What we have... it's good, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

He's wading through a thick silence, even though he can still hear the cheers and whoops from the TV. They've been living together for a year, but somehow Nick never thinks beyond the present, he keeps on expecting everything to collapse around his ears. He doesn't know if it's because somewhere deep inside he still hankers after his childhood dream of being just like his dad, marrying a woman and having six or seven kids, or because he always feels slightly off balance with Gil's deep introversion, or because of other factors he can't define and might never be able to.

Gil simply holds his hand, waiting for him to speak.

"What if it doesn't work out?"

Gil shrugs. "If they've allowed gays to marry, I'm sure they'll allow them to divorce." He pauses. "That's the wrong answer, isn't it?"

Despite himself, Nick grins briefly, then grows serious again. "Gil, are you sure about this?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't suggest it."

"I don't know. I remember when you suggested we move in together. It was ‘maybe' then. It's ‘maybe' now. You don't sound too sure."

"You think I'm impulsive?"

"That'll be the day," Nick snorts.

"I'm sure of what I want, Nicky. Very, very sure. I just don't know if you are."

"What if it doesn't work out?"

"Why should that stop us? And what if it does?"

Nick can't bring himself to say yes, but he can't say no either.

"Nick. You don't have to answer now. I'm just saying we should consider it. Maybe. That's all."

----------

Nick props himself up on one elbow and looks down at Gil, lying on his back with his straw hat covering his face. He hears a faint snore coming from under the hat and grins.

He leans down. "I'm going to burn that stupid had one day," he whispers into Gil's ear, then licks it, delighting in Gil's small groan and slight squirm.

"If you do that, I'm going to burn every one of your ugly shirts," Gil voice drifts out from under the hat.

Nick laughs and lies back down, closing his eyes against the bright sun. Cancun in January; this is the life. He feels like he's drifting, half-dreaming and half-thinking about Gil and their life together over the past seven years from that first date, feeling a deep, calm, contentment and a zinging pleasure at the same time.

"You know, Gil, maybe we should get married."

"I suggested that nearly four year ago," Gil says lazily, but Nick knows him well by now, and he hears the undercurrent of excitement.

"No, you suggested maybe considering it," Nick corrects, his eyes still closed. "I'm suggesting maybe we should do it. What do you think?"

He hears Gil shifting next to him, feels a sudden coolness as something blocks the sun, and guesses Gil is leaning over him.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Gil murmurs, his lips against Nick's, and Nick smiles.