Title: Not for Me
Author/pseudonym: XFreak
Email address: x_freak@fastmail.fm
Rating: R
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairings: Warrick Brown/Nick Stokes
Status: New; Complete
Date: September 14, 2002
Series/Sequel: No
Website: http://www.e-fic.com/~xfreak/
Text-only mirror: http://www.e-fic.com/~xfreak/text/
Disclaimers: All things CSI belong to Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. This work of fiction is purely for enjoyment and no money is being made from it.
Notes: I have searched high and low for Warrick/Nick slash and came up empty. I wrote this in the hopes that maybe someone else will get inspired and write this pairing, too. Feedback and constructive criticism of ALL kinds are appreciated. Many thanks to Grey for beta reading and general encouragement.
Summary: A bad situation creates a good one.
Spoilers: Stalker
Warnings: m/m

Warrick strolled down the hallway to Nick's apartment, his steps slowing when he noticed the front door not quite latched. He unholstered his weapon and quietly pushed the door open. Following the short hallway into the living room, he found himself pointing his weapon at a wide-eyed Nick.

"Wazzup?" the other man asked around a mouthful of his frozen dinner, the glow from his laptop screen tinting his skin with a blue-green hue.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Warrick re-holstered his weapon. "What's the deal with leaving your door unlocked?"

"The cable guy probably left it open when he let himself out." Nick glanced away. "I had it taken out."

"Uh, why?"

Shrugging, Nick scratched the back of his head with his uninjured hand. "I figure maybe I'll eventually get a satellite dish installed."

Warrick dug his hands into the pockets of baggy jeans. "So I guess watching the game's out of the question."

Smiling without humor, Nick nodded before fixating on the large green "T" in the middle of his living room floor. "He died trying to help me."

Warrick stepped closer, placing both hands on his friend's shoulders. "Yeah."

Turning his face to the side, Nick shook his head. "If Brass had been a few seconds longer..."

Strong hands shook the tense shoulders. "He wasn't. He got here and it's over."

Nick's tired eyes met Warrick's own. "Not for me."

Warrick knelt in front of his friend, resting a loose fist on the other man's knee. He enjoyed the warm heat between them as Nick's thigh brushed his stomach, the hard sinews of male flesh under his hand. Neither man moved or spoke for several long moments until Warrick's legs began to tire from the precarious position.

"I've gotta move."

Nodding, Nick picked up his half-eaten dinner and deposited it in the kitchen trash. When he returned, he moved to the window, gazing out into the early morning sun. He jumped at the sudden voice in his ear.

"You okay?"

Shoulders trembling, Nick refrained from answering, and asked a question instead. "Do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

Warrick's breath blew the hair next to Nick's ear and he shivered. "Go up into the attic and make sure all those holes are plugged. I'd do it myself, but-"

Placing a hand at the small of Nick's back, Warrick cut his apology off. "You don't have to explain yourself." He remained close, urging his friend to turn toward him with a hand to the shoulder. He met Nick's troubled gaze and smiled. "I'm here. Might as well make myself useful." Before he lost his nerve, he closed his eyes and grazed his lips across the other man's, retreating toward the attic before his actions brought a reaction.

Once there, he carefully checked each hole labeled with the name of a room in masking tape and black marker. Satisfied that all were closed, he sat down and placed his hands over his eyes, one word repeating in his mind. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Warrick?"

"Yeah, I'll be right down." Although hiding out up here is the more appealing option. At least, until he remembered what transpired up there, how grossly Nick's privacy had been breached. Anger singed his veins and he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

When he returned, he found Nick standing in the middle of the living room wearing a peculiar expression. The other man tilted his head in a way that made Warrick feel like one of the many specimens they scrutinized under high-powered microscopy.

"You do realize that you kissed me."

The intrigued tone brought a hint of a smile to Warrick's lips. "It hadn't exactly escaped my attention."

"Was it just an 'out of the blue' kiss or an 'I've wanted to do that for a long time' kiss?"

"Ah..."

"I'm waiting."

Exactly when did Nick gain the upper hand? "Well, you know, sometimes friendship develops into something more and it just hits you at the right moment."

"The right moment being when we were standing by the window?"

Warrick chuckled. "You're not going to let me dance my way out of this, are you?"

"'Fraid not."

"I've wanted to kiss you for a while, but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it."

"And now?"

"I'm squirming here."

"I've never been with a man."

"But?"

"Listen to the evidence, man. Break it down."

Warrick swallowed, willing his heart to slow at least into the hundreds of beats per minute. "You're toying with me, which I do not appreciate, so you must not be royally pissed."

"Good call."

"You're enjoying my discomfort, which you're going to pay for."

"Do tell."

"You're flirting."

"Conclusion?"

"You're... interested?"

"Bingo."

"No joke?"

Nick chuckled breathily. "I was about ready to give up on you."

"Huh? You mean..."

"Yeah, tough guy. You all but stopped dating women. I notice these things."

Warrick crossed his arms and frowned. "You..." He shook his head, disbelieving. "You seduced me?"

"Thought I was going to have go in to work without a shirt or something."

Stepping closer, Warrick smiled, revealing shiny white teeth. "You might as well, as tight as your shirts are." He ran a finger down the center of Nick's chest, grinning even wider at the shudder.

Nick licked his lips.

"Trying to provoke me, are we?" He not so gently, yet mindfully of injuries, backed Nick against the nearest wall, spreading long legs a few inches with his own knee. Closing the distance between them, he snugly rested his hips against the other man's.

Warrick waited as the slightly shorter man groaned and wrapped arms around his shoulders. Almost instantly, his mouth was on Nick's, demanding entry as he crushed him against the wall with the entire length of his body. A whimper the only response, he held Nick's face with both hands, the slick slide of tongues turning him on more than he could remember for a very long time.

After the need for air presented itself, Warrick released Nick's mouth, huffing. "Wanna go out with me?"

Evil glinted in the dark brown eyes. "I'd much rather stay in and..." Nick slid a hand around and squeezed one of Warrick's buttocks, prompting a jerk forward, the friction delicious. "...get to know you better."

"I don't believe this."

"Believe it," Nick said, nibbling tenderly at the darker man's lips. "You've been claimed."

Sitting at opposite ends of the couch, Warrick felt the need for the distance, almost afraid for his virtue. "So you're not the least bit unnerved by this whole thing?"

"Nope."

"Even though I'm your first man."

"First sounds so temporary."

"Nick."

Sighing, Nick shrugged, his playful demeanor taking a leave of absence. "The only thing I'm unnerved about is this feeling I can't seem to shake."

Brow creasing, Warrick's friendship instinct kicked in high gear. "What's that?"

Nick looked toward the ceiling, hugging himself as if he were cold. "It just feels like there's someone watching."

"I'm sorry."

Frowning, Nick shook his head. "About what?"

"That your privacy was invaded. I know how much you value it."

"I just... why me, you know? I mean, I know Grissom said it wasn't about me, but I think he's wrong. According to Crane it was about me. He had us basically married in his head. He thought I was his property."

"You're nobody's property, Nick. You say who and you say when."

A flicker of playfulness peeked through as he held his thumb and forefinger almost against each other. "You're not even the slightest bit possessive?"

"Not until I'm sure you're mine."

"Until you're sure I belong to you."

"Only if you want to belong to me and with the knowledge that you're free to walk anytime you want."

Nick stretched his legs out and rested his feet on Warrick's thighs. "I'm not that altruistic. You're mine. You don't see anybody else. Understood?"

Warrick flushed and cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"You're blushing."

"Black men don't blush."

"Yeah, whatever."

Normally, Warrick enjoyed coming in to work. This particular night, however, the person who enhanced his enjoyment of working at CSI was on forced medical leave.

"Oh, hey, Warrick."

He turned to find Sara heading toward him from Greg's lab. "Grissom's looking for you."

"Thanks." Striding toward his boss' office, he idly wondered what kind of case he landed this time. Arriving, he poked his head in to find the grey-haired department head curiously studying a maggot captured in a pair of tweezers. "Hey, Gris."

The older man looked up at him, a puzzled expression crossing his countenance for a fraction of a second before waving him in. "Close the door behind you."

Frowning, Warrick did as requested and sprawled himself in the closest chair. "What's up?"

"Would you mind telling me your whereabouts the last few hours before shift?"

The benign tone contradicted the warning bells going off in Warrick's head. "Tell me why first."

Grissom faced the junior CSI full on, tenting his fingers in front of him. "There's been... Someone reported that they saw you gambling at the casino."

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

"I'm sorry, Warrick, but I can't tell you that."

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "An accused's right to confront his accuser doesn't apply in CSI?"

"Not until all the evidence is in, no."

Warrick shook his head, anger boiling in his gut. "Are we done?"

"You were going to tell me where you were?"

He stood and yanked the door open. "I was with a friend. Beyond that, it's none of anybody's business what I do in my off hours."

"Unless it affects your work."

Glaring, Warrick stood in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "News flash, Gris. Gambling isn't exactly illegal in Nevada."

"No, but some of us are known to have a problem when it comes time to stop."

"That's it. I'll be in Greg's lab if you need me. When I need a sermon, I'll go to church." Not really caring who heard, he slammed the door, stalking down the hall to the lab.

When he walked in Greg looked up, his hair spiking in a million different directions. "Hey, man. What's up?"

Sara and Catherine drove around the back of the LVPD toward a crime scene, Sara suddenly squinting. "That's strange."

"What?" Catherine scanned their surroundings, but failed to see anything out of the ordinary.

"Warrick is over there talking on a pay phone. With all the phones in CSI, why would he need to use a pay phone?"

"Here's a novel concept. Maybe it's a personal call."

Grinning, Sara elbowed Catherine playfully.

Glancing at Sara looking back over her shoulder through the rear window, Catherine sighed. "We have a mystery to solve. Save your curiosity for processing the crime scene."

"Yeah, okay." Sara sounded disappointed, and quickly looked once more over her shoulder before falling silent for the rest of the drive.

"Greg?"

The quirky lab tech looked up to find his quirky boss.

"Oh, hey."

Handing a 35mm photograph over to the other man, Grissom gave specific instructions. "I need this analyzed for authenticity, #1 priority. I want it in my hand before Warrick gets back from processing the robbery."

Greg glanced down at the photo. "Is this Warrick?"

"This stays strictly between us. Understood?"

Nodding, Greg titled his head and grinned. "Does this have anything to do with why he was so worked up earlier?"

"Tick-tock, Greg."

"Yeah, yeah."

Grissom smiled to himself as he headed back out into the hallway. He knew Greg's curiosity would kill him, but the boy would just have to deal with it.

Nick stepped off the elevator and ran right into Sara, clad in gloves and carrying her evidence case.

"Nick? What does the word 'rest' mean to you? Do you not understand it?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "I'm just here to see Grissom."

"Then back home."

He pressed his hands together in a praying gesture and bowed. "I promise, no work."

"See ya." She trotted off down the hall.

Catherine buzzed by, muttering, "Don't mind her."

Nick smiled and realized that he missed this place. He hoped after he talked to Grissom that he wouldn't miss it a lot more. But he trusted the man to be fair, which he'd never known him not to be. Reaching the open door, he knocked on the frame.

A finger in a book, Grissom looked up at him, brow wrinkling before he shook his head. "I thought you were on medical leave."

Sighing, Nick nodded. "I'm not here officially. I need to talk to you."

Grissom stuck a Post-it note in his book to mark his place. "What's up?"

Door shut, Nick remained standing, unable to keep still.

"Nick? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. No." He wiped a hand over his face. "I'm here about Warrick."

Leaning back in his chair, Grissom affected a mastery at disguise. "What about him?"

Suddenly deciding to forge ahead, Nick seated himself on the front edge of a chair, his elbows on the wooden arms. "He told me about your conversation earlier."

Grissom blinked. "He did?"

"Yeah. He called me."

"And your point?"

"He wasn't at the casino."

Turning his head to the side, Grissom's eyes remained on Nick. "You know this because?"

"Because he came to my place a couple hours after last night's shift and stayed until he left for tonight's shift. No time to be at the casino."

"He didn't get any sleep?"

"Yeah, he crashed at my place."

"You let him sleep on the couch?"

"I didn't say where he slept. Draw your own conclusions."

Grissom sat forward, mouth dropping open. "Are you saying that you and Warrick..."

"The only thing I'm saying is that I'm Warrick's alibi. Although, I'm not really clear on why it's a problem what he does off the clock."

Stunned. That would be the only word to describe Grissom's expression. "I didn't see it."

Wearing his own mask, Nick's eyes gleamed. "There was nothing to see."

"There's always evidence, Nick. The evidence always tells the story."

When the sudden bark of laughter escaped the younger CSI, Grissom looked totally confused. "Are we cool on the casino thing?"

"Oh. Yeah. You couldn't lie to save your life." At the sharp look from his subordinate, Grissom qualified, "Not that I think you would..."

"All right then. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Although, Warrick does get a lunch hour. You are allowed to show your face around here when you're off the clock."

Eyes wide, Nick recovered in less than a blink of an eye. "Tell that to Sara. She's like a mother hen on steroids."

Grissom sat back in his chair, a smug expression firmly in place.

Still reeling from his conversation with Nick, Grissom breezed into Greg's lab. "You got anything for me?"

"Ah. Just the man I wanted to see." He gestured with his hand for his boss to come closer.

Doing so, Grissom studied the enlarged image of the picture showing on a laptop screen.

"What doesn't belong?"

"Greg. Is it a forgery or not?"

Sighing, Greg slumped his shoulders. "Man, you take all the fun out of the discovery." He directed a laser pointer at the occupants of the table where Warrick sat. "You see how the shadows fall on this couple? That's because there's a light directly behind them." The pointer moved to Warrick. "The shadow effect here is all wrong. Not only is it a forgery, but it's amateur work." Mild disgust carried the words of the last sentence.

Grissom snagged his picture back, the laptop screen going blank. Lips pressed together, he moved quickly out into the hall. The faint "no problem" penetrated his hearing and he retreated, peeking his head inside the lab. "Greg?"

The younger man looked up, surprised.

Photo waving in the air, Grissom said, "Appreciate it."

Greg smiled. "Anytime, man."

Warrick sat at a computer, running fingerprints when a shadow fell across the door. He looked up to find his boss and crossed his arms over his chest. "What now?"

Closing the door, Grissom faced him, a contrite expression softening his features. "I owe you an apology."

"Yeah, you do."

"I'm sorry."

Warrick's eyes narrowed. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I listened to the evidence." Seating himself on the other side of the table housing the computer, he slid the botched forgery across the table. "Ecklie supplied this as evidence that you were at the casino."

Squinting, Warrick scrutinized the photo and then dropped it on the table. "It's a fake."

Grissom grinned. "I know. According to Greg, it's an amateur job, too."

"Ecklie, huh? I should've known."

"Care to accompany me to confront your accuser at shift change?"

Chuckling, Warrick shook his head. "Yeah."

"Although, I knew you weren't at the casino before Greg told me."

Warrick looked up. "How?"

"Nick came to see me."

"What's Nick got to do with anything?" In contrast to his words, his pulse took off on a sprint.

"Quite simply? He alibied you."

The implications of those words spun out of control in Warrick's brain, his lips unable to speak.

"He was quite cryptic about it, actually, told me to draw my own conclusions when I probed for more information."

Warrick smiled, unaware that the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Anyway, I just wanted to apologize."

"You're forgiven."

Grissom pointed a warning finger. "Watch that temper of yours. It could get you into trouble."

"My boss is a pretty understanding guy."

"So are his employees." Grissom slid off his chair and started toward the door, only to turn around about half way there. "Warrick, I know... I just..."

Curious, Warrick waited.

"Sometimes I think of my team as my kids. I worry when I think they're heading for trouble." He shrugged.

"It's okay. Dad." Warrick had to chuckle at the horrified expression on Grissom's face as he headed out the door.

Just after Warrick's search beeped a match at him, Nick passed the window of the office. Practically launching from his chair, he called after his new lover. "Nick?"

The other man turned, his expression softening. "Yeah?"

"Can I see you for a minute?"

"Sure."

An observer would not know from watching them that anything had changed.

After Nick walked into the room, Warrick shut the door and leaned against it. "Gris told me that you came to see him."

"He did, huh?" Nick asked distractedly as he studied the profile of the fingerprint match.

"What were you thinking?"

"What?"

"I wouldn't have expected you to say anything, especially with everything so new between us. You might as well have told him that we're fucking like rabbits."

Eyes gleaming, Nick pinned his lover with a steamy gaze. "Not yet."

Anger nearly taking over, Warrick spoke curtly. "I was still in the closet. Thanks a lot for the push."

Temper finally flaring, Nick stood up, leaning on the table. "Look, if you want to back out on me now, fine. But I will not stand by and watch Grissom lose respect for you for something you did not do."

"He would have found out it wasn't true anyway!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Just..." Inhaling a deep breath, Warrick held it and released it slowly. "Next time you decide to save my ass, talk to me about it first."

"It's a fine ass."

"Nick."

"All right. I was just trying to help."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but use some discretion."

"Grissom seems pretty amused by it."

"All the more reason not to tell him." As if on cue, Warrick spotted Grissom watching them through the glass, the bemused expression on his face that he always wore when trying to figure out a challenging mystery. "See? Now we're no longer CSIs. We're specimens for him to dissect."

"I'll talk to him." Moving toward the door, Nick asked, "My place after shift?"

Warrick sighed, afraid this man was going to spend the next umpteen years twisting him around that little finger. "Yeah. Oh, wait. Gris and I have to go see Ecklie, so I'll be a little late."

Nick stepped out into the hall, grinning like an idiot as he stopped and spoke to Grissom. The two of them walked down the hall together, engrossed in conversation.

Grissom and Warrick strolled into the office where Ecklie stood without him seeing them.

"You know, Ecklie, slander and libel are both crimes," Grissom said as Warrick stood just behind him in a relaxed stance, hands in his pockets.

Ecklie sneered. "What are you talking about Grissom?"

"Your faked picture constitutes libel and your false statements constitute slander. If I were you, I'd be hoping Warrick here is a gracious enough man not to file an official complaint against me."

The conceited expression fell from Ecklie's face as he glanced at Warrick.

"What I don't understand," Grissom continued, "is what you hoped to accomplish by submitting the picture. You would've been a lot better off just telling me you saw him at the casino. Then, I'd have had no proof you were lying and it'd have been your word against his."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Grissom laughed. "I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of dusting the photo for prints. Would you like to know how many good prints I got from it?"

Ecklie shook his head.

"Is there anything Ecklie can do to make it up to you, Warrick?"

"Apologize."

Complexion paling, Ecklie swallowed. After several long moments he spoke. "I'm sorry."

Warrick crossed his arms over his chest and anchored himself. "For what?"

Ecklie cleared his throat. "For making false statements and faking the picture."

"Good enough for my money." As Warrick left the room, seething hatred oozed from Ecklie's eyes.

In a perky tone, Grissom warned, "We'll be keeping the evidence of this little episode should you decide to develop a pattern of harassment toward my CSI."

The hatred focused on Grissom, but no words were forthcoming.

"Have a nice shift."

Warrick knocked on Nick's door, his mind reeling at all that had happened in the previous twenty-four hours. A hand immediately reached out and grabbed his shirt, the fabric giving a bit as he was yanked inside and the door slammed behind him. Pushed against the door, he yelped, "Hey!"

"Glad to see you."

Nick angled his face upward and placed a gentle kiss on Warrick's lips, the taller man acquiescing to the soft nibbling. He quickly raised his arms when Nick tugged at his t-shirt, the chill in the air raising goose bumps on his arms. The slightly shorter man admired the black sleeveless undershirt he wore, one nail scraping a nipple, evoking a groan from Warrick. "You think maybe I can get into the apartment before you attack me?"

"Sure." Nick grabbed his hand and pulled him through the living room straight into the bedroom. "Happy?"

Chuckling, Warrick surrendered. "Ecstatic." He titled his head backward as Nick bathed his neck with his tongue, the two brain cells that still worked observing that his lover was a very oral guy.

Lips glistening, Nick pulled back. "There's just one problem."

Warrick shook his head, attempting to disperse the cotton in his brain. "What's that?"

"I don't know what to do."

Simply looking at him, it took Warrick awhile for understanding to dawn. "Right. First time with a man."

"It's not like either one of use has a... you know..." He made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand and slid the other forefinger in and out of it. "So?"

The most devious, wicked chuckle echoed the room before Warrick responded. "We improvise."

Nick gulped.

Smiling cunningly, Warrick disrobed his lover piece by piece. Admiring the muscular form, he cooperated as the other man returned the favor, shocked at the sharp intake of breath when he was done. "What?"

"You're... you're..."

Confused, Warrick looked down at himself and back up at his lover. "What?"

Eyes focused on Warrick's groin, Nick uttered one word. "Huge."

"So, now you believe what they say about black guys is true?"

"Oh, yeah," Nick agreed, licking his lips as Warrick pushed him back on the bed.

Warrick lowered himself on top of his lover and pulled the covers up to their waists. Rocking gently, he smiled at the gasp and gaping mouth as Nick experienced the first feelings of making love with another man. Kissing his lover deeply, he held him tightly as he leisurely brought them both to completion.

After they cleaned up, both dozing, Warrick asked, "Are things moving too fast?"

"Not for me."

Holding his lover in his arms, Warrick looked forward to spending each day and night with this man, his fear of sharing his heart banished to hide in the shadows. He tenderly kissed Nick's forehead and his chest tightened at the murmured, "Love you, man." What a difference a day makes.