Title: Newcomer
By: silverpheonixscion
Pairing: Gil/other, Gil/Nick
Rating: R

“Hi, is this where I’m supposed to be?” Greg looked up from his paperwork to behold a vision in soft white cotton. A young woman holding a small attaché case stepped into the trace lab, and with her came the soft scent of jasmine. She had red, curly hair held high and back, and the most dazzling green eyes Greg had ever seen. //A bonny lass, indeed. Such a pity,// his heart lamented.

“I sure hope so. I’m Greg.”

“Jessica McCollum. Call me Jesse. I have a 10:00 with you about the lab tech position.” He took her hand, which seemed so small, yet her fingers gripped him far stronger than the thin muscle and delicate bone implied.

“Yeah. Ecklie recommended you, and your resume looks amazing.” //And with Ecklie, that means an ulterior motive,// Greg thought as they sat down in the Breakout room. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I was born in Tucson, Arizona, and I went to Vassar. I completed three bachelors’ degrees there in Biochemistry, organic chemistry, and biomechanics, and one Masters in Biochemistry at Johns Hopkins. I then went on to Boston-” Greg stopped her with a soft chuckle.

“Ok, your resume told me all that. Tell me about you.”

“I currently live in San Francisco. I wanted to come more toward the mountains, and I thought since your lab was in need of a new tech, I’d like to see what Vegas is like.” Better, but not quite enough.

“Ok. Why this lab? There’s L.A., Phoenix-”

“Because you’re the best. This is the number two lab in the country, and I wanted to be a part of that. Not the fame, but the progress. I wanted to make a difference, and there’s no place better to do that than here.” //Much better.// Greg smiled gently, but a thought came to him in the form of Grissom and his ever-wise words.

“Well, this is about more than making a difference. It’s about-”

“Precision.” The word was singular, crisp, with a perfectly even tone. //Cue the infamous Grissom, //Greg thought with a groan.

“Oh, hey, Grissom. Gil Grissom, this is Jesse… what did you say your last name was?”

“McCollum. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Grissom.” Though taken aback, Grissom remained pleasantly guarded as he took the deceptively delicate hand.

“I really don’t go by ‘Doctor’, Miss.”

“And I never go by ‘Miss’, so I guess we’re even.”

“Well I read up on this young lady, Greg, you seem to have found a true gem in the field of biochemistry. Her credentials are better than yours were.”

“Nice to know I’m replicable.”

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have advanced.” Greg of course gave him a put upon look, which he both smiled at and ignored.

“By the way, how do you know Dr. Norman Simms? I’ve know the man for more than twenty years, haven’t seen him in three, but he called me last night out of the blue to tell me you would be here today. It’s what inspired me to look up on you.”

“Dr. Norman Simms? The forensic anthropologist and biochemical engineer?”

“Anthropologist and insect lover. He and Mr. Grissom apparently met at a bug convention.” Flashing a grin, she turned back to what she hoped would be her new boss. “He’s my godfather, and one of my dad’s best friends.” Greg wanted to interrupt considering this was his interview, but out of morbid curiosity, he waited.

“Norm is every man’s best friend, and every woman’s worst enemy.” A smirk twitched at Grissom’s lips. A smirk? He didn’t smirk unless it involved bugs and dead people. The things that fascinated him. Did she…?

“Not true! Debbie just… she’s an artist. Norman’s set in his ways and his life, and she wanted more.”

“Well, New York is the place for a budding artist.”

“Only if one’s work sells.”

“True.” But before he could say more, and he truly wanted to, Nick appeared just inside his field of vision, and Grissom remembered why he was in the lab in the first place. He took up his report and ordered it in the small stack of paperwork in his hand. “Well, I must be on my way. Lovely to meet you, and I hope you’ll be happy here.” With that he was gone, and somehow Greg still felt left out of whatever had just transpired here.

“Is he always like that?” //Oh, so I’m being included after all!// And when did he become such a sarcastic prick?

“I suppose I should ask like what?” No not prick. Brat.

“Philosophical. He’s highly intelligent, but not arrogant. He seems very nice, but very closed.”

“You got all that from one conversation?” Greg was impressed beyond most incidents. He’d had to actually work alongside the man, after three years of knowing him, before he figured that out.

“It was more about what he didn’t say.”

~~~~~

“Who’s that?” Nick’s voice brought Grissom completely out of his thoughts, as it usually did. He wondered often if Nick realized he had that much power.

“Greg’s new lab tech trainee. If she works out, he’ll be out in the field in no time.”

“What do you think of her?”

“I think she’s very intelligent, and she just might fit in around here.”

“Hey, guys, I got the tox back on your vic. Blood alcohol level was .26.” Sara. Grissom tried not to let show his slight distaste for her, but after that blowup in his office in regards to her feelings for him, he just couldn’t help feeling guilty. And disgusted. He shouldn’t, but that never stopped anything.

“Ouch. I remember the days when I used to dream about women who could drink that much.” Nick had wished for such things? Grissom doubted it, but that didn’t matter. This was important information.

“I also found three different hairs on her clothes, one of which I know is animal.” Better still. He had to give her credit; she was a heck of a criminologist.

“Take that over to Greg and his new friend and make sure he goes over this with a fine tooth comb.”

“New friend?”

“Yeah. Grissom thinks Greg may have found a decent lab tech to replace him.”

“Hope his taste in music is an improvement.” His taste? Oh, was she in for a surprise, Grissom thought as he and Nick made their way out to the Tahoe.

~~~~~

“Well, I guess I should show you around a bit. Get you a desk, and I’ll show you where we keep everything, then we’ll start work.”

“Already?” She didn’t even live in this state yet, and she was being given her own space?

“Why not?"

“Hey, Greg, I need you to…” Sara froze as she saw Jesse, a look he’d never seen on her face: absolute shock. Greg suddenly felt even more out of place, and this was just Sara. What was it with this girl? This girl who looked like she’d just seen a ghost. //The hell?//

“Sara?” //She squeaks. That’s new and different.//

“Jesse…” Greg had never thought that Sara could get any paler, but the bone white that overtook her face made his stomach crawl. Yet nothing could prepare him for the sheer force of warmth as tiny Jesse fell into Sara’s suddenly open arms. The embrace was fierce, desperate, as if no force in the universe could separate them. Greg would have given in to his own shock if Catherine had not picked that exact moment to poke into his quickly crowding lab.

“Hey, Greg do you have my…” Catherine looked up from the report she’s been reading, though how she managed to read and not bump into things while walking was still a mystery. The two broke apart, though not too far. And just enough for Catherine’s well-curved cheeks to tinge just a touch. “Uh, sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. Catherine, this is Jesse, our new lab tech.” Sara was all smiles, and the young lady next to her extended a hand that remarkably was shaking as much as the slight timbre in her voice.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Catherine took the rather small hand, and Greg knew then that he was going to have invest in a camera to capture some of these faces he was seeing today.

“Well, I’ve got to run down a lead, so I’ll see you later, ok?” Sara moved away from Jesse so slowly, Greg wondered if a bathroom break would be needed just to watch her leave.

“Great.”

“And I need my report, Greg.” //Thanks for remembering,// Greg thought as he handed over three sheets of paper that would probably break her case. “Thanks.”

“And I need to start making arrangements, so can I come back in a few hours for that tour, Greg?”

“Sure. See you then.” Would that before or after she met Sara? //Most likely after.//

“Ok.” With a look Greg couldn’t begin to understand, Jesse and Sara once again seemed to tune out his presence, the words dropping so reluctantly from Jesse’s lips that Greg could almost feel pain in them. “Bye, Sara.”

He watched as Jesse moved away, while Sara gave a sigh so deep, he wondered if she had any air left in her at all. “So I take it you two know each other.”

“Yeah.” A smile, so sad and yet filled with something so very not like Sara, etched itself across her face. She turned, a far more normal look fighting its way to the forefront. “You could say that.”

~~~~~

Catherine moved slowly down the hall in the general direction of the garage, trying somehow to figure out what she'd just seen. Sara and this new girl, hugging? They looked almost...close? They knew each other, but why did Catherine get the sudden feeling that they were more than mere friends? It had beena long time since she'd been a stripper, but scenes such as that were found often between certain kinds of girls backstage, especially after a truly rough performance. But still...Sara?! After the hell she'd put Grissom through?! It just didn't make any sense!

*THUMP!* Catherine backed away, her balance completely gone as she reeled from running into something very hard. A pair of hands came to her shoulders, bringing her back to center and holding her up almost off the floor. Strong hands. Famililar hands.

"Whoa, Cat, where's the fire?" She looked up, dumbstruck a moment as Warrick Brown smiled down into her suddenly wide tawny eyes, a flash of something very unprofessional in his own deep brown.

"Warrick! I'm so sorry! I was just..."

"Hey, it's ok. Are you all right? You look a little weirded out." A hand ran down her arm that instantly calmed her. There was always something about this enormous man that made her feel safe. he contiunued to stare, and she was captured by the deep storm that always seemed just below the surface of him.

"Yeah, Warrick. I'm ok." She gathered herself and presented the analysis she had originally gone to the lab for. "Ready to get moving?"

"With you, always." He flashed her a grin and sly wink, one she knew she was going to feel the real effect of much later.

Grissom arrived in the lab to find a whir of activity. Several machines were running, printers were printing, and in the center of the whirlwind, a tornado in a lab-coat, keeping up with everything that was happening with a precision he hadn’t seen since his biophysics professor in college. Music played softly in the background, a piece Grissom couldn’t begin to name being played on what sounded like an electric cello.

“Jesse?”

“Oh, hi.” She reached over and picked a single packet out of a pile of several, handing Grissom his blood analysis and turning down the volume on her stereo without missing a single beat. //What a woman! She works faster than even I do!//

Ecklie walked into the trace lab as grim as he ever was, and for a moment, Gil wondered why he worked for such slime. But only for a moment, especially with Jesse around. “Well,” she said as she rose from her chair, “you two no doubt wish to talk. I’ll let you-”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you, Ms. McCollum. Gil, you’re going to want to stay for this.” Jesse sank slowly back to her seat as Ecklie stood next to Gil, an unusual thing gracing his face. A smile? Jesse simply stared down into her teacup, swirling a single finger around the smooth styrofoam lip, Gil on his guard instantly. //Uh oh. Why don’t I like this all of a sudden?//

“Did you help Warrick and Greg on the Waterston case?” Clipped. Clean. Ecklie was on a mission. Not a good sign.

“Of course,” she said with a sip of her still steaming tea, “but you already know that, didn’t you?” Gil started a bit at the sudden chill in her voice. And he also started making plans for damage control on her behalf, both during and after this conversation. “Was there something wrong with the case?”

“Tampering with evidence. Misleading your shift supervisor. Damage to private property. Maybe hiring you for this job wasn’t such a good idea if this is how you’re going to behave.” //Oh boy…//Grissom thought as he braced for a speech he’d heard a few too many times before. Jesse looked up for the first time, and Gil was certain he’d never seen eyes quite that close to black before.

“First of all, we had the University’s permission to change out that lock. Secondly, the key was not evidence at all. It was simply used as a gimmick to shatter an alibi and get a suspect to confess their true whereabouts, and it worked. Finally,” she all but growled, gesturing vaguely with a scalpel Grissom hadn’t even seen her pick up, “Grissom not only knew about the plan, he’d approved of it. Having said that, you ass-sucking bottom feeder, if you ever question my methods again, I will do far worse to you then Marcella could ever dream.” Ecklie paled, a single muscle under his left eye twitching suddenly.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” Grissom watched in morbid fascination as Ecklie swallowed and Jesse’s mouth curved predatorily. “That’s what I thought. You have exactly three seconds to get the fuck out of my lab. One.” Ecklie seemed literally frozen to his seat, his eyes glazed over in a fear Grissom had seen only in cornered animals. Jesse was suddenly on her feet, and her stool crashed to the floor hard enough to startle Ecklie back to the land of the living. “Two.”

And then he was gone. Grissom could honestly say he’d never seen a man that size run that fast. He looked back at Jesse, whose eyes had followed Ecklie’s path down the hall until he was out of sight.

And then it began. Soft at first, a slight blush to her cheek, her jaw taut and her mouth thin and strained. Her eyes glistened suspiciously, and then it happened. Jesse broke down into hysterical laughter. Grissom watched in borderline horror as she doubled over, shaking bodily with every fit.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” That only made it worse. It took her almost five minutes to gather herself enough to retrieve her chair. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and she continued to giggle as she wiped them away.

“Are you looking for work? Do you realize he can fire you for that?”

“I don’t think so.” She giggled once as she sank back into her chair and downed her entire cup of still steaming tea.

“Don’t underestimate him, Jesse. He’s more ruthless than he seems.”

“Well, Comrade always was a pain in the ass.”

//‘Comrade’?// “Come again?”

“He’s not a problem. I know how to deal with him.” She retrieved another report that had printed and filed it neatly alongside the others. Grissom set his things aside and took up a stool, if nothing else to watch her continue to work.

“How long have you two known each other?” She turned back toward him, her eyes a far more human color at last.

“All my life. Far too long, by my mind.” She flashed him an unreadable look, one he sought to examine further, though perhaps too obviously. She stared him down as if in challenge, and part of him wanted to meet that challenge head on, office not withstanding.

“Oh?” she backed down a little, a grin, eating away at his resolve as her white teeth shone bright.

“You didn’t know?” //Know?// Apparently his face mirrored his thoughts, because her giggle returned with spine tingling results. “Oh this is too much. Ecklie is my Uncle.”

For a moment, Grissom wondered if his hearing was going again. “I beg your pardon?”

“Creepy, isn’t it? He’s my mother’s little brother. And yes, he’s been an asshole for all the time I’ve known him.”

“That’s of little comfort.”

“Indeed. Means there’s no cure for it, unlike ‘Scrooge Syndrome’ where one can break through the hard outer shell to find a creamy, compassionate center. By the way, you have his sister to thank for his abilities to suck up.” Another report presented itself, but for some reason, she simply didn’t move.

“And I take it this ‘Marcella’ you mentioned earlier is your mother?” At her nod, he continued ruefully, “Why is she to blame for Ecklie’s behavior?”

“Given how I handle my ‘Uncle’, what do you think got me this job in the first place?” A single eyebrow begged the question. “My mother forced me out of my old job and pretty much all of San Francisco, and she made sure to do it when Comrade was in the market for a lab tech.”

“So you came here for the job by way of your mother, and she forced Ecklie to put your rather exemplary résumé on top on a two foot stack.” //Something he wouldn’t do for anyone. Ever.//

“Correct.”

“You do realize nepotism is illegal.”

“And you also realize that Comrade wouldn’t give me this job on his own if his life depended on it. Even though it kind of does in this case.” She moved for the report at last, organizing it into the hanging folder on her desk marker ‘Warrick Brown’. Gil looked a moment, noting folders for Sara, Nick, Catherine, Jim, and even Greg. She turned back to him, bringing him back to the subject at hand.

“Again, please?”

“We’re both being punished.” And what Jesse would have given for a camera just then. A priceless slack-jawed, pop-eyed face was after all such a shame to waste.

“Punished?”

“Indeed. I’m being punished for being me, and Comrade’s being punished for being himself.”

“How’s that, exactly?”

“My mother wanted me to live near family. San Fran isn’t near family, but she knew I’d be too much to handle if I moved closer to her, so she sent me to Comrade. He wasn’t thrilled, but he wouldn’t dare cross her. Not after last Thanksgiving.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” Another report for Sara, a folder with barely anything in it. That didn’t surprise him much, that she would pick up her things more often than the others. She was the only CSI who was as obsessed with their work as he was.

“So why is Ecklie being punished?”

“He refused her something. I don’t know what exactly, but it has something to do with my almost brother. Comrade hates me and she knows it, so I get dropped in his lap. He can’t fire me for fear of my mother, and I won’t quit for the same reason. Also, I refuse to let him win.” Again a single eyebrow begged her to continue, and for an instant she bathed in the bastion of his impenetrable focus. //Whoa…//

“If I quit, I’m conceding defeat not only to my mother but to Comrade, thus losing the fight we’ve been having since I could speak. If he fires me, he faces the wrath of my mother, a world-class mistake. If he quits, he loses to me. While making ‘Mommy Dearest’ happy is what brought this situation about in the first place, the personal goal of this exercise is for each of us to make the other’s life a living hell to the point that they break.”

“So you’re stuck.”

“Not that I mind. Very few things give me more pleasure than making that man squirm.” Grissom could see that. Many a first shift morning had been spent sneaking up behind Conrad Ecklie for the simple pleasure of scaring the wits out of him because he’d thought Grissom had already gone home. It was petty and childish, but that didn’t make it any less fun.

“So, why do you fear your mother so much?” A snort from shuttered eyes drained a good deal of fun from this playful banter.

“Lots of people ask that, and I give them all the same answer: you’d have to meet her.”

“Doesn’t everyone say that about their mother?” He did, after all. Though judging from the force behind that smile, not for the same reasons.

“Look, it’s not like we have a choice here. The woman gets what she wants. It’s just what she does. It’s what she’s always been good at, and she never fails. Never. I go with it because it got me further into the mountains, which makes me happy. But I do have to deal with Comrade, so I’m still under her very delicate heel. I enjoy things where I can. It’s all I can do.” Such pain from one who is supposed to love. Gil couldn’t imagine feeling so much hate for someone he personally held so dear.

“That kind of resignation is truly disheartening.”

“Not from my point of view. I get to be in a new city, make new friends, and make a new life for myself. I also get to annoy Comrade, which is always a pleasure no matter where I am.” Resignation with a hint of making the best of things. What he wouldn’t have given to be that strong again.

“Out of curiosity, why do you call him ‘Comrade’?” The genuine smile returned, with just a touch of mischief. Gil made a silent promise to do his bets to keep that smile on her face.

“He hates it. I never called him ‘Uncle’ because that is a title of respect, and that is something I will never have for that man.” Ouch. Not that he didn’t agree…

“I see.”

“I doubt it, but hey, you can try. Everyone else seems to have taken a stab at me. I was wondering when you’d take your shot.” She moved like a striking snake to retrieve a suddenly printing DNA analysis, and with a grace Grissom saw rarely in the tigers at the zoo, she filed the report, and sent the next packet through for inquiry, never once losing her place.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, every woman in this office has tried to bond with me since that scene in the hallway with Sara. Catherine has taken a more maternal slant towards me, which is fine. The men seem to find me interesting, considering all but two have asked me what I’m ‘doing later’ at one point or another. Only one has gotten even close to getting anywhere, but I doubt he knows it yet.”

“Let me guess. Warrick?” She shot him a knowing grin, one he met in kind.

“So you have been watching.”

“I see a lot of things no one knows about around here.” //I’ll bet,// she thought as a secondary blood analysis went underway.

“It’s all about keeping the information stored away until you need it. The only problem is that keeping it inside can make it backfire. You don’t see all the clues adding up until it’s almost too late. And when it is too late, you blame yourself when there’s nothing you can do.” Sara. That had to be it. She and Sara had history, that much was obvious. Had Jesse done something to drive Sara from San Francisco? Sara had literally jumped at the chance to come here. Was Jesse something she was trying to get away from?

“That sounds like experience talking.” Norman. He had to be talking about Norman, and how even knowing Debbie was going, everyone around him had kept silent until the whirlwind hit him full on, shattering him emotionally.

“Both sides.” The pause dragged out, though not unpleasantly. Grissom simply stared, transfixed by the shining emerald eyes that held his gaze. The sea after a storm… A second printing came to be, and again Jesse sprang into action, grabbing her now finished samples from the centrifuge, placing them on a slate and sticking it under the microscope. And it brought Grissom back to the subject of work.

“Yes, well, I have paperwork to get through.” He gathered himself as best he could, still mulling over all he’d learned about his newest team member.

“And I have samples to process.” She barely looked up from her microscope, but somehow he knew he still had her primary attention. How very interesting… Just as he reached the door he looked back to see her peering down the microscope, taking avid notes.

“Hey, Jesse?”

“Yes?” Scribble, scribble.

“What are you doing later?” He could almost hear the glass eyepiece crack with the force of her wince.

“Ouch.” Her deep pink lips curled into embarrassment.

“Just checking.”

"Hey, Grissom. The sheriff is waiting in your office." Nick's voice washed across his mind like a warm rain. Gil stared at him a moment, hearing nothing but that voice until the words came to him at last.

"Lovely. Thank you, Nicky." He moved past, just close enough to feel the gentle wamrth of his body, thogh eh knew eh could never touch. //Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view,// he thought happily as he made his way to his office.

Nick walked into the lab, seeking out his folder and hopefully the reports he'd been waiting on. Though he'd gotten the page only 20 minutes ago, he still wanted to see if his other reports were ready as well. He found his folder, grateful that Jesse was more organized than Greg. In his old office, Greg had been the only one who could ever find anything.

As Nick leafed through his folder, a faint sound came to him. It wasn't the usual whir of instruments or rustle of paper and samples that could usually be heard. This had form, rhythm. He perked his ears, trying to find the source. It sounded like music, which wasn't uncommon, but where was it coming from?

He took a single step and stopped dead as Jesse popped out of no where, a set of headphones secured to her head. She didn't notice him as she moved about her work, organizing reports and samples. And singing. Singing beautifully. Nick recognized the piece as Ave Maria, but she wasn't just listening. Her notes were clear and pure with no words to speak of, but just standing there, watching her seemless work come to be as her amazing voice drifted through the stillness, Nick was lost. His eyes closed a moment and he listened, adrift in the wonder of her simple, sweet melody.

Which had abruptly stopped. Nick opened his eyes, and Jesse stood before him, her face strung taut.

"Oh, hey," he said, trying desperately to come up with something viable to cover this. "I came in for my reports. The ones you paged me about." He held his folder out, as if it held all the answers she would need. She reached out and dropped two more into it.

"That's everything. Thanks for coming so fast." She moved back a step, almost gauding herself with the remainder of her paperwork.

"You ok, Jesse?" Not that she had to answer. Nick knew a fear responce when he saw one, but what was she afraid of?

"Yeah, you just startled me is all." She set her work aside and came back to him with her usual smile, one he now knew was a front. Nick returned her smile in kind and moved away, taking his reports and returning his folder before bolting from the lab. She was uncomfortable around him, but why? Was it guys in general, or was it just Nick? He didn't know, but for some unknown reason, he wanted to find out.

“Hey, everyone, great job tonight. Party at my place tomorrow night. I’ve already arranged shift replacements, so everyone can come.” It was a rare thing, but sometimes Catherine found the perfect way to remind everyone just how much clout she had around this lab.

Gil watched as each person in the room reacted in their own way, from the boys grinning sheepishly at a free night off, to Sara who obviously would rather work. To Jesse, who for some reason kept staring out the window toward the mountains. She seemed so distracted, and yet he knew better. He watched in fascination as her ears perched toward the conversations around her, picking up every word and storing all the information, much as he did.

The group dispersed, and she returned to the lab, with Nick following close behind, a case file in hand. If Grissom didn’t know better, he’d say that there might be something going on between those two. He hoped so and not at the same time, for to see two such as they happy together would make his day, but to not be able to enjoy either one for himself would indeed be unfortunate. Oh well, he thought as he made his way back to his office. If so, so be it. Another opportunity lost. So why did this one sting so badly?

Grissom closed the heavy door to his office, half tempted to lock it behind him. But he knew he couldn’t. If something happened, he would need to know immediately. So he contented himself with shutting it tight.

He slumped down into his chair, his thoughts as heavy as the sigh that pushed him over his desk. Another lost chance. Another beautiful soul he wanted so much to hold, to cherish. To love. The first had been so promising. Nick had been so much younger than his years when Gil had first set eyes on him. He was idealistic, full of so much spark, Gil couldn’t help adoring him. Even when he made mistakes, he made certain to learn from them, and to ensure that they never happened again.

Nick proved to be a wonderful CSI under Gil’s watchful eye, until that fateful day when Gil had been forced to take on the role of supervisor, and all hope of reaching out to Nick in a way beyond their work was lost. He tried to continue his friendship with the young man, but he didn’t see him enough. And finally, as Gil watched Nick latch on to Warrick, and eventually fall into the arms of the young hooker, Kristy, he knew he’d lost his chance. Even after Kristy’s death, Gil had tried to console Nick, extending the only tenderness he had. Nick had accepted, but not to the extent hoped for. Things went back to normal not too much later, much to Gil’s chagrin.

And then Jesse had come dancing into his life. In a whirl of curls and light and life, she had turned his world on its ear. With every meeting, she seemed so much deeper, every conversation exposing new levels of wonder to explore. Such complexity did more than intrigue him. It aroused him, far more than he knew it should. She fascinated him, drove him mad with her teasing comments and subtle innuendo. Yet she seemed so distant alongside that playfulness. She’d lost something, or someone. What had happened between she and Sara? What could cause such a vibrant soul to close off so much?

But am I reaching her somehow? The thought came unbidden, yet wanted all the same. He wanted to believe she felt something for him. He wanted the fleeting glances and tiny smiles to mean something more. Something special...

The knock came hard to his door, shaking him violently out of his mind. Nick poked his head in, a concerned look on his handsome face. Gil simply had to smile. Nicky, you’re timing is amazing.

“You ok?”

“Yes, Nicky, I’m fine.” Gil smiled brighter as the name slipped from his lips. He enjoyed how easily it came to him, and how warm it felt to see the sparkle in this wonderful man’s eyes.

“I think I have something on the homeless guy.”

“Show me.” And for nearly twenty minutes, Gil found his thoughts lightened.

~*~*~

At Catherine’s, the house was light and filled with laughter. Little Lindsey was at her Aunt’s for the evening, to make sure no one kept her up. Cat would be joining her later, but only to bring her home to spend time with her before bedtime.

Gil walked around just as the sun touched the western most mountaintops, ready for a nice evening with friends. Catherine’s house was truly lovely. Two stories, yet very ranch style, with a very expansive yard. The house stood at the top of a small hill, with the basement half exposed through the hillside. The large picture window and patio door set-up that was the basement access was lovely, giving a stunning view of the sunset to the west. Except that if this cooler breeze kept up, they were going to need a fire outside. Just as that thought crossed his mind, Warrick walked down the slight hill, avoiding rocks as he went.

Cold metal met his hands, even though all he could see was moving black. “What is that?”

“When you’ve dug as many impromptu graves as I have, you tend to know a shovel when you see one. Start the pit.”

“Why me?” And he wasn’t even going to ask about Grissom and grave digging.

“You’re the tallest.”

“What the hell does that have to do-” But Grissom was already gone, and Warrick was left grumbling over overturning earth.

Slave-driver, thy name is Grissom. Not that Warrick really thought that of Grissom, but he knew what was really going on. Grissom always was against inner-office dating, even with this insane thing he had for Nick. Warrick wondered if Gil knew anyone had picked up on it, but Warrick and Catherine had spent many a morning after shift and over coffee regarding the subject. Gil was smitten, and had been since Nick got to Vegas. He wondered why he’d never acted on it, at least before he became night shift supervisor.

That really wasn’t something Warrick had to worry about. Catherine had been known for her discretion, but he’d been truly amazed when he’d gotten ready for work after that first amazing night in her bed to a list of ‘do’s and don’t’s’ regarding conduct in the office. So many things could not be said, he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to just reach out and hold her, especially during those rare moments when she needed just that, office or no office. He was quite sure Ecklie would not approve of such open affection, especially since he probably hadn’t gotten such a thing in years. Weasel that he is.

And of course, there was the wrath of Grissom to consider. If he ever did such a thing in front of Grissom, Warrick doubted either his or Catherine’s friendship with Grissom would save them from losing their jobs. Or at least his. He honestly doubted Grissom would fire Catherine, but she would get a mark on her record, and Warrick was not about to do that to her. Not when she was so close to getting a promotion anyway.

Warrick wasn’t even sure what Grissom was doing with this. If he knew Warrick and Catherine were dating, why force Warrick to be away from her? Surely he realized how much time they spent together anyway. What, was he jealous that Warrick might take the only solid friend Griss had in the office? Was he really that overprotective? As the pit was finally finished, a set of footsteps got Warrick’s attention, and he was sorely tempted to club the old man.

“Look, Grissom-” He turned wide, the shovel flying wide under no control at all. Something ducked down and back, avoiding the spaded blade and the subsequent flying dirt. The movement was so quick Warrick had to take a second to catch up. It was only at the hesitant reemergence of wild curls that Warrick knew what he’d done.

“Jesse! Jesus, are you ok?” He took her hand, pulling her completely to her feet as she swayed a bit.

“Yeah. Careful with that thing. I think it’s loaded.”

And she was very glad he wasn’t truly mad at her. Warrick’s hands felt strong enough to crush her.

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah. He had you dig the hole, huh?”

“Yeah. And with as many impromptu graves as he’s dug in his life, you’d think he’d be happy to do it himself.”

“What was that?!” Warrick placed the logs cabin-style and packed the undersides with paper, filling the freshly dug pit with kindling.

“Nothing. Dinner ready yet?” A single match, and the flames licked at the dry wood, a pleasant fire growing before his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Great. Can you bring me out a plate? I don’t want to leave this unattended.”

“Sure.” She made her way back up the hill, the light crackling of a well-built fire fading behind her. As she opened the door, Catherine was giving direction as everyone got ready to enjoy this gorgeous smelling meal. Catherine looked up, obviously not expecting Jesse to be alone.

“Hey. Where’s Warrick?”

“Tending the fire-pit. He didn’t want to leave it. He wanted me to bring him something.” That last comment got Jesse a smile she knew too well. Catherine looked around to the others, who were already busy getting their own things.

“Ok. I’ll take him down something.” Catherine prepared a second plate and glass, and with the grace and ease of a trained waitress, she glided out the door and down the hill, two plates and two glasses in her possession. Jesse smiled as she shut the door, marveling at the happiness spread so wide across Catherine’s face. She watched a moment as Warrick took the plates and glasses form Catherine’s hands, only to envelope her in a loving embrace. Good for them, she thought as she pulled the backdoor blinds shut. They deserve a moment.

~*~*~

Dinner had proven lovely, right down to the fact that Nick had to take over the grill because Catherine was not the greatest at barbeque. But the Texan ran things perfectly, taking over the rest of the kitchen as well, timing everything to perfection so that everything was done at the same time, hot and delicious. Much like he is, Gil thought as he continued with the dishes. He thought it rude to simply leave such a mess, so he took it upon himself to see to the dishes while everyone else enjoyed a lovely if cool evening outside.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gil couldn’t help but smile at the gentle timbre of the sweet voice so near.

“Oh, hi, Jesse. I’m just finishing up the dishes.” He only had the large pots left, always something he left for last. That is until the plate in his hand was lifted away. He turned to see Jesse with a fresh dishcloth, drying and stacking the plates he had set on the drying board.

“Need a hand?” And a hand she gave, clearing the space Gil needed to set the pots to dry, and making the entire thing seem to take forever just by standing there. He kept his eyes to himself as much as possible, stealing only the tiniest glances at her lovely legs, well shaped hips, ample bosom and long, curly hair. A warmth not his own touched his skin each time she reached for a new dish to dry, their touches so light he could barely feel them. Yet each still sent ripples through his skin, calming the tension of being out of his own space. He wondered consciously how she would make him feel in his own space. Would he ever get the chance to find out?

“Well,” she said as the last pot was set in place, “I guess we should go be social. Come on.” She took his arm gently, leading him outside to the roaring fire and comforting laughter of the others.

No sooner had they stepped onto the edge of the firelight when Nick spoke up. “There she is!”

“All right, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Warrick’s deep, gravely voice sounded from nowhere Jesse could see, but she felt him close by.

“He’s right. Keeping something like that a secret isn’t fair to the rest of us.” Nick was upon her, something large in one hand. Jesse stepped back a little, her hands shaking a remarkably small amount.

“Ok, I’m lost. What am I being accused of here?”

“You have been officially elected to sing for us.” Greg could barely be heard around the roll he had stuffed in his mouth. The young man had taken the liberty of not allowing the last of the rolls to get cold when everyone else had had their fill.

Nick then extended the item he’d been holding: a vintage 60’s acoustic guitar. “You have got be kidding!”

“Oh, come on. I’ve heard you singing in the lab before; you just always stop when people come near you. Sing for us. Please?” Nick gave her his most pathetic puppy pout, and she couldn’t help but acquiesce. She took the neck gently, a round of applause spattering across the fire pit. Grissom had never been one for sing-alongs, but he sat down anyway. Besides, it gave him a good excuse to watch the petite mystery without fear of reprisals.

“I’m going to hurt you for this. Fair warning.” But the wide grin across her face beamed in the firelight, and she sat down to tune the old instrument a moment before she stilled, almost becoming one with the old guitar.

The soft moan of the strings came to life in her hands, and the tune came to him in only five notes, a new record for Grissom. He loved this song, and he had to work not to applaud.

I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls.

A smooth, aching tingle began deep in his chest and ran a slow path through his blood. His eyes shut against the sweet pain that tugged in time with his own heartbeat. Her voice was slow and soft, as controlled and wild as she, and as smooth as honeyed silk. Beautiful. There was no other word for it. For her. That voice would haunt him, he knew. He would never hear this song again without remembering this slow, sweet torture she wove within him.

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies.

Grissom shifted, trying hard not to let it show, but as he looked around a moment, he saw that everyone else was listening, as captivated as he. Nick looked like he was going to cry, while Warrick appeared drunk off the sheer intensity. Catherine looked on with a mother’s affection, while Sara was in sheer and simple awe. Brass looked on much like any man his age would upon a girl such as she. Protective, yet willing to let her be free. Would that Gil himself had such control. All he wanted was to pull her close and never let her go again. Why did that sound so wrong?

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you as you start your day.

He could see that. Sunlight streaming in through the curtains of his bedroom. A day off, and it felt great. Felt even better knowing that he wasn’t alone. Warm and soft and smooth, her hair a cinnamon mass of curls across his body, she lay wrapped around him, and he around her. Limbs tangled so perfectly, he wasn’t at all uncomfortable sleeping next to her, nor waking to her sweet perfection. He could feel her breathing against his skin, her chest flowing softly with each breath. How he wanted to reach down and wake her with a kiss, the same kiss she sang of so wondrously…

He shook his head sharply, shaking loose the images. Ok, time to suppress that.

And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.

She never strained at such things, he thought with a whimsical smile. She believed in constructive chaos, but she was more than creative. She was a fountain of so many things. From knowledge to wit to powerful wisdom, she brought forth so much not just in herself but in him as well. Would that she could be so outpouring for just one more thing…

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

Truth. He knew so much of fact, but real truth eluded him. And yet there she sat, on a rock in the middle of what some would consider nothing, alight in song so soft and low that it would surely fill his heart forever. Her truth was so simple, and so filled with myriad complexities of pleasure and life, he wondered if he would ever even see it all, let alone understand it. Would he ever get the chance?

No, he thought with the only sigh he had to give. Such a creature would never let one such as he near. He would simply worship from afar, as he had done for so long with another colleague. Neither would know, and neither would push him away because of this insane affection.

He looked out over the fire to see Nick still trying to hide his face, though he wasn’t succeeding very well. His cheeks were tinged such a rosy pink and bright with tears that he hastily tried to wipe away. Gil couldn’t hold in a smile at the thought that these two such wonderful beings so affected each other, his two cherished treasures. Gil smiled as he took them both in, so different and yet both so very loved.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I.

And by your grace I will hold you both in my heart, my sweet ones. He held still for fear that the tears would show before he could control them. So shadowed in firelight, his cherished ones seemed to glow. One wiped that sweet face of tears still too feared to shed, the other held onto the tone of her music, a single note that brought his heart forth in all its unrequited rapture.

Jesse took her expected bow and passed the guitar back to Nick, amongst several compliments and comments. She made a very discreet exit as everyone began talking again, but Gil wasn’t buying it. He followed slowly, catching up just as she reached the back door.

“Leaving so soon, my dear?” She seemed startled, but upon seeing it was Grissom, she also seemed to calm. Gil was confused and elated, but didn’t push against that perfect smile. The two crept inside and made their way to the small cache of liquor Catherine had set up. Jesse poured them both a very stiff drink and held up her glass.

“A toast. To good friends.” And to the failures of being social. Her voice shook she knew, but she didn’t really care at the moment. She just needed to get away from… everything.

“Indeed.” With a clink, a wink, and a smile, Gil took a slow sip as Jesse’s drink disappeared completely into that pouty, perfect little mouth. Wouldn’t have figured her for much a drinker.

“I still can’t believe I agreed to this. A double usually shouldn’t preceed a party,” she said as she poured herself a second, far more mild drink. Gil watched as her hands shook slightly, her voice holding no more of its gentleness but almost…fear? What was she afraid of? Performing? Criticism?

“That was lovely out there. I didn’t know you sang.” He reached out and touched her arm as she set the last of the bottles aside, and she seemed to calm a bit. He was more than happy to do that much for her, but she obviously needed something more to calm her. And not liquor.

“I’ve always loved to sing. I used to walk by the beach for hours, listening to the water and singing to it.” She took up her glass, her hands far steadier. Yes, Jesse. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid of me.

“That must have been nice.”

“It was, but my thoughts were always of the mountains, where I was from and where I eventually wanted to return.” A sadness Gil couldn’t define filled his chest, something familiar. A fleeting thought about unattainable goals flittered through his mind, but it was gone before he could truly latch onto it. Besides, he used to go to the seaside often himself when he’d lived in California. He was well acquainted with a need to reach out and touch the sea.

“Not that the ocean doesn’t have its good points, too.”

“It never stays the same, the sea. The tides, the storms, the calms, the waves themselves, ever changing, ever shifting, always bringing something new to your very doorstep, if you only open up long enough to see it.” She looked up at him then, the fear he’d seen before gone, replaced with something he couldn’t name. Something he’d seen in the eyes of only a scant few suspects. Something sad yet dark, frightening yet fascinating. And as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone again, leaving behind an obvious shadowed veil. “But listen to me, the sudden sentimentalist. I promise this isn’t normal. I’m not usually this melodramatic.”

“I have a feeling I’ll get to know what normal is for you soon enough.” He sipped his drink again, wondering how long it would take to get her talking about what was truly bothering her. He didn’t want her drinking any more in the near future, but what she had may be just the edge he would need to loosen her tongue.

As she cleared the couch with a gentle twist of her delicate ankle, she turned back to see him still watching her, a contented smile on his face. I hope so, Gil. I really do.

“Well, this is kinda nice. You don’t talk much at the office, unless of course it’s about work.” He moved a step back on reflex. Ok, at what point had this become about him? “Oh, who am I kidding? Even then, you only talk when you’re good and ready.” He nodded slowly, taking in the sudden change he hadn’t even seen take place in this mysterious little nymph.

“I speak when it’s necessary, yes.”

“And when it suits you. I have a feeling that if properly motivated, you could talk up a storm. Bugs and forensics aside, I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a down right likable guy behind that thick wall you erect around yourself.” Gil set his drink down, forgotten against the hammering of emotions he was desperately trying to suppress. How could she know that? What had she seen? Had he done something, said something to give himself away? No, she was just a little tipsy. Uninhibited. She probably didn’t even realize what she’d said. He smiled gently, his voice soft despite his pounding chest.

“You don’t know that, Jesse. For all you know, I could be a psychotic killer who uses the lab to cover my crimes. Or just a freak entomologist hiding amongst his fellow geeks because he doesn’t know any other life.” He realized his mistake as the last word fell from his lips. Idiot! Give her your life story, why don’t you! Well, so much for keeping things to himself. Yet that didn’t seem so bad just then. This was Jesse, a mystery onto herself, filled with her own anxieties and myriad complexities. She would not betray him, would she? Heaven help him, was it possible she might understand him? Her laughter was like tinkling bells. He could get used to hearing such a laugh.

“I know who you are, Gil. You are the Mountain of the Crime Lab. The steadying rock that everyone clings to, knowing you’re strong enough to hold them.” He stared at her a moment, his heart racing its way up to his throat, strangling in his chest as the secret it held screamed to escape.

“Am I?”

“Yes. You would do anything for anyone on your team, even if it meant something you didn’t necessarily want to do. If it would help one of them, you wouldn’t hesitate.” She finished her drink in a single gulp, and Gil saw the telltale warning signs of heavy intoxication, even considering that this was only her second drink. Her glass set aside, she looked up at him with a tired smile, one he knew all too well himself. Yet he still hung on her every word, his heart somehow hers to read as she would any open book. “As someone who’s had mountains on the brain for quite a while now, I know what I’m talking about.” And with that she was out, passed completely from consciousness, standing up and perfectly balanced. Which made it easy for Gil to sweep her slender form into his arms.

~*~*~

Nick listened as everyone discussed their latest cases and life events. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy such things, but he was more concerned at the moment with how Grissom and Jesse had come out of the house together, only to return to the house together only moments later. What was going on between those two? And why did he feel like he had some kind of right to know?

“Hey, where’s the fire, big guy?” Nick was on his feet before he realized, and in motion as his mind caught up.

“What’s the matter with him?” He could hear the voices behind him, none of which addressed him directly, so he didn’t care.

Nick made his way to the door, and found the view not displeasing. Gil and Jesse seemed to be talking, though she was putting down an empty glass. He didn’t have to guess what that was, considering the glassy eyes and almost evil smile on her face. What had happened to the sweet little lady he’d just heard sing like an angel?

And then Gil advanced on her, her body limp and falling into his arms.

“Griss?” Nick’s voice came out of nowhere, bringing his heartbeat up another notch. He turned to see the native Texan standing next to the bar, a look of uncertainty on his face.

“It’s all right, Nicky. She’s just had a very long day.”

“Ok. You need help?” Though to be honest, Nick wanted to give less help and more supervision, but what of that?

“No, thank you, I’ll just be a moment.” He passed Catherine, who rattled off a series of directions to a guest room where Jesse could be placed until she woke up.

Gil tried his best to keep from jossling her as he walked. So she couldn’t hold her liquor. Big deal. Better than Sara who drank like a fish. Besides, Jesse’d pulled a double before coming here. What did people expect? Lab techs never worked that hard! Greg in his hayday with the help of his special coffee did such a thing rarely. It was no real surprise that she was so tired.

Grissom found the spare room exactly where Catherine had said it was, complete with a very large bed. He set Jesse against the soft linens, her silken mane falling everywhere. He sank onto the edge of the bed a moment, caught somewhere between odyssey and fantasy as cinnabar curls fell across ivory skin. The dim light from the hall cast a glow across her face so soft she seemed unreal. A figment, a being of myth, his very own Lady of the Lake.

A single tendril fell across her face, and on reflex he reached out to move it away. He wasn’t prepared for the spun silk that swam through his fingers, nor the porcelain skin that swept fire through his senses. Pale pink lips curled into the tiniest smile. So lovely…

Gil leaned down and swept his lips across the place that renegade strand had landed. He’d wanted it to end there, to be a simple, paternal gesture and nothing more. But he could not rest, nor keep himself from straying down the bridge of her nose, right down to the delicate tip. Her breath drifted warm against his face. She didn’t smell like alcohol. She smelled of jasmine and hyacinth, and for what felt like hours he stayed right where he was, breathing in her perfect scent. He was so engrossed in her sweet bliss that he never heard the floorboards creak just outside the door.

~*~*~

Nick was very anxious for no good reason. What the hell was taking Grissom so long? Sure it had been nice of him to take Jesse someplace so she could get some rest, but that took, what, three minutes? Five max? Not twelve, going on thirteen. Nick shook his head sharply and ran his hands roughly over his head. Ok, so he was being a little paranoid. It was obvious from the lack of noise that nothing untoward was going on. No reason at all to fret, and even less reason to go check and make sure everything was ok. Not that that was going to stop him, but that’s really not the point. People had started coming inside, so he’d better get going before someone-

“Nick?” He froze. Of all the people he couldn’t sneak past, Sara was by far the most inconvenient. “Where’s the fire?”

“Bathroom. That ok with you?” A bit harsh, but effective. And just what the little hussy deserved. Ok, where had that thought come from?

“Sure. Just wondering.” And with that Nick was gone, leaving behind one very perplexed CSI.

Nick made his way down the darkened hall, trying to remember the vague directions Catherine had rattled off. Not that he couldn’t tell which way to go. He could hear something. Humming? Moaning, maybe? He picked up the pace as he approached the right door. Better not be…

The door was already open about halfway, just enough to see…Nick stepped back, certain his chest would implode. He couldn’t even remember making it out to his truck, but the next thing he knew he was pulling into his own driveway, his chest still pounding.

~*~*~

Sara watched transfixed as Nick came back down the hall, grabbed his coat and left without a single word. Not even a look. What the…?

“Sara?” She looked, Grissom appearing down the hall Nick had just all but run out of.

“Grissom.”

“You ok?”

“I am. Not so sure about Nick, though.” Nicky? Alarms raised in several sections of Gil’s mind.

“What about Nick?”

“Well, he went down the hall, said something about the bathroom, then like a minute later came out here and stormed right out the door.” Gil pulled a confused face, one Sara saw so rarely she barely knew what to make of it.

“Grissom, did you say something to Nick?”

Bucket of cold water. He couldn’t have seen… “No. Why?”

“Well, what were you doing down there?” Always asking questions. He enjoyed Sara on the job for it, but right now was not the best time to bring that trait out.

“Jesse needed a place to get some rest.” Sara’s eyes popped wide, her face falling.

“What? Why?” Her voice held something akin to panic. Sara? The deadpan CSI who only freaked out over pig meat and saliva?

“Nothing. She and I shared a drink, and it went to her head. She just needs to lie down for a while.” Sra shifted into ‘scene’ mode, which comprised of knowing everything, finding everything, organizing everything, taking care of everything…

“Ok. I’ll look after her and make sure to take her home. You may want to check on Nick. I’m not sure he should be driving.” She made her way down the hall, not waiting for Grissom’s answer. Gil watched as she disappeared in the darkened hall, his cell phone suddenly in his hand. He looked down at it as if it held all the answers.

“You’re probably right.”

~*~*~

Nick’s phone rang out of nowhere just as he walked in his front door. He still felt mildly disoriented, and the darkness wasn’t helping much. He fumbled for a light switch he would have found blindfolded on any other day. The front room lit up just as the answering machine turned on.

“Hey, it’s Nick. Let me know who, where and what, and I’ll get there as soon as I can. If you can’t wait, call my cell. Thanks.” Nick openly considered changing his phone greeting. It wasn’t like he was married to this job. And it wasn’t like eh saw himself doing this for much longer if-

*BEEP*

“Hey, Nick. It’s Grissom. Listen, you tore out of here pretty fast, and I wanted to make sure you got home safe. Call me, you know I don’t even know what sleep is.” A pause, as if something was bothering him. Guilt, I imagine. “Take care.”

Nick reached out and hit the delete button before the message was even complete. Take care, he says. Yeah, like he took care of Jesse? Fat chance.

Gil walked into work as if for the first time that evening. Something about this place seemed unreal, something new. Perhaps it was just the evening before, full of laughter that had affected him so. It seemed as if something in the air was holding its breath, waiting to take the plunge into the unknown. And maybe he just read too much Tolkien. That could be too.

He walked past the DNA lab, and there she was. In her usual way, an auburn whirlwind of white lab coat and blue-white paper. And she was owed a very thorough explanation. If she would let him speak, that is.

“Jesse?” He avoided croaking like a dead frog by only a hair.

“Oh, hi. I have your spectral analysis, and the tire treads you were looking at yesterday belong to a 2000 Dodge Ram.” Ok, either she was ignoring the problem all together, or she was really, really angry and covering it by being nice only to explode at him at a moment’s notice. He wasn’t sure which he feared more.

“Listen, Jesse about last night…”

“Yes, I wanted to thank you.” Gil’s mouth opened and closed several times, the most recent fish out of water Jesse had seen, though she wasn’t sure why. “I really appreciate you taking care of me last night. It’s not every man who wouldn’t take advantage of such a situation.”

The knot in his stomach tightened a notch, bringing his confusion to a grinding halt and reasserting his guilt. She knows; she hadn’t been asleep. But she doesn’t sound mad. That’s a good thing. Right? “Oh. So you weren’t completely...”

“Oh no, I was out cold, trust me.” Uh oh. Better come clean, old boy, or you’ll just regret it later.

“So, you don’t remember what happened.”

“Not really, no.” She stopped halfway to the printer and turned, a look Gil had feared working its way across her face. Confusion. Recognition. Shock. And a whole host of things Gil didn’t see long enough to identify. “Why? Did something happen?”

“In a way.” Again her face flashed so many things Gil couldn’t keep up, but the underlying fear tightened the knot inside him painfully. “It wasn’t anything bad, necessarily, it just kind of…happened.”

“Well, now that we established that something happened, maybe you should tell me about it, just so I know what to report to my new friend at the Sheriff’s office, if anything.”

His eyes closed a moment, steeling what little resolve he had left, shielded vaguely by what had once been his integrity. Gulp. Well, here goes my career… “I kissed you.”

Something flared suddenly behind those emerald eyes. Something dark. “You kissed me?”

“Yes. On your forehead.” Her arms folded tersely across her chest, and Gil swallowed hard. She has every right to be displeased, but does she have to look like she’s going to eat me alive? “It was more a friendly gesture. Paternal, really. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“If you didn’t mean anything by it, you wouldn’t be this nervous.”

“Damn.” He was nervous. Good, he needed to be. She’d been right that he wouldn’t take advantage, but he did take a liberty. She didn’t object so much, but he deserved to sweat a little for this.

“And how exactly did you come to the stunning conclusion that this was even close to a good idea?” Tight, crisp, angry. Very angry, and very about to do something very rash and very deserved if he didn’t do something, and fast.

“Um…well, it wasn’t so much about thinking, and that’s kind of what I wanted to apologize for.” Backpeddling. He knew good and well this wasn’t going to go anywhere, except where she led him. He only hoped he’d be able to pick up on something quickly. She didn’t seem much in the mood to talk, not that eh could really blame her. Was this how suspects felt in interigation? He’d have to file this feeling away…. No! This was not the time to think about that!

“Yeah, ok.” She turned on her heel and moved purposefully back behind the microscope counter, scribbling rather roughly in a case file. He took a single step forward, and could almost feel the warding look she shot him. She turned back just as quickly, continuing to write as he stood there, feeling more naked than he ever had before in his life.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to… oh hell, I don’t even know what I meant.” She didn’t budge. She didn’t even look at him as he tried desperately to think of something. But as he watched her, knowing full well she was listening even if she was paying him no heed, it hurt. Everything hurt, from the tight knot in his gut to the hard lump quickly forming in his throat. Dear gods, he was going to lose them both, just for reaching out. Maybe he was destined to be alone after all. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”

“Yeah, well. This just mean you won’t be getting that new racing cockroach for Christmas this year, that’s all.”

Gil’s eyes shot wide. Racing cockroaches? What the hell is she…? Understanding crept across his face as he watched only her eyes grin from beneath barely controlled sunset curls. She looked back up a moment, mischief playing across her eyes much as it had in recent days. The change was so strange and abrupt, yet not forced.

“You’re not mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. But you need to get out assignments so I can have something to do later.” Any anger in her face melted away to a teasing little smile, one that made his insides melt and pool into his legs, making several things very hard to move just then. Her pen tapped the counter gently. He looked down at the packet of papers next to him. When had he picked up assignments? He knew he hadn’t looked through them yet. He looked back to Jesse, who was absently chewing on a pen cap. Minx.

“Right.” He picked up the stack, leafing through it as he made his way to the door. Just as he did, a shuffle of paper caught his attention, and he watched Jesse continue her work, her speed and precision unaffected by his revelations. Such a wondrous creature.

“Oh, and Jesse?” She looked up, that dark look replaced with her usual delicate smile. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” Her laughter sang in her eyes, and he knew he was both forgiven and lost. Nymph. Will you ever know what you do to me?

“Count on it.”

~*~*~

“What the hell do you mean they convicted him?!” Ecklie practically screeched into the phone receiver, causing this really nasty ringing across the line.

“Yeah. I thought you’d want to know.” He could hear the other man groaning, but Ecklie really didn’t care much. “I also thought you’d be pleased. Someone in your lab obviously knows what they’re doing.”

Yeah, my evil niece. Great. That’s just fucking great. “Yeah, well. Thanks for the info.”

“Oh, one more thing, Ecklie. Who’s that new girl working for you in the DNA? I got a chance to work with her on another case as well as this one, and she’s really-” *Click* Ecklie didn’t want to know what Jesse was. All he knew right then was that she’d been right. She’d made an ironclad case against that LVU rapist, and all it had taken was a replaced doorknob and a key.

Ecklie held the letter in his hand, still not sure what he was going to do with it. It had been sent certified, so he couldn’t just burn it, which had been his first impulse. Jesse had been a pain since the day she’d showed up here, not to mention the best damn DNA analyst the lab had ever had. Ever. And now she was being hailed as a ‘Godsend to the Las Vegas Law Enforcement Community’ by the governor? When the hell did the governor care about the Crime Lab? And why the hell was Ecklie suddenly getting paperwork for funding that he could never get on his own until now? And this without even asking for it!

He didn’t have to look far. Apparently, the number of solved cases recently due to exemplary forensic evidence had done the work for him. He could try to use this against Greg Saunders, citing him for shotty work, but he knew that would never fly.

And now he could never get rid of Jesse. Not with this kind of recognition…

Recognition she didn’t know about. And she wouldn’t, if he had anything to say about it. She didn’t deserve any for the way she was treating him! In his own lab, no less! No, he thought as he stood from his chair, a determined spring in his step. He was not going to let her be that cocky. She was going to know her place by the end of this thing. He’d see to that.

~*~*~

Gil walked through the Break-Out room, giving out assignments as he went, much to the groaning acquiescence of his employees.

“Catherine, we have a double homicide at Caesar’s.” She took her packet, smiling a secret smile Gil had only seen her use before with cold cases and hot dates.

“Ok, Warrick, you’re with me on this.” Warrick looked up at his lover with playful disdain.

“You people just will not keep me out of a casino, will you?”

“Nothing like temptation to strengthen your resolve.” Warrick eyes narrowed slightly, and Gil knew to head this argument off at the pass.

“If you two are done?” Catherine stopped giggling as Warrick cleared his throat in perfect Barry White fashion. Gil sighed deeply, wishing for a moment that he had such freedom of displayed affection.

“Sara, Greg, you have a car fire with fatality out on I-15.” Sara looked down at the page a moment before taking it resignedly.

“Joy.”

“Hey, at least it isn’t pigs.” Greg piped in for the first time all night, and Grissom couldn’t help but smile at Sara’s grimace. He remembered that evening quite vividly, and he knew she still did, too.

“Funny.”

“Nick, you have… Nick?” Not a ‘Nick’ in sight, and that was most unusual. Ever since Nick made Level 3 CSI, he’d been punctual, even early some days just to make sure no one needed help before assignments were handed out. Gil had admired his tenacity, especially since it let Gil see his favorite CSI more often. “Anyone seen Nick?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll see if I can track him down. You all have your assignments, get to it.” Sara and Greg followed Grissom out, leaving Warrick the perfect chance to get one good tickle in before Catherine had her defenses up. A quick leap out of her chair got her out of range, but not out from under Warrick’s penetrating gaze.

“A double at Caesar’s, huh? I’ll give a call over to Frankie and see if anyone’s been up to anything lately.”

“And you thought I was just trying to tempt you.” A single finger swept down her cheek, her eyes fluttering just that little bit that made every nerve in his body shiver. Damn her wicked ways.

“Tease.” She was on him without looking, which made the danger of holding her in the office all the sweeter.

“Yeah, but at least I make good.” He leaned down and took her pillowy lips, not caring who saw them. He loved this woman, and one day soon he would shout it from the rooftops of the strip.

“No, you don’t just make good. You make very, very good.”

~*~*~

Nick ran a hand over his face for the third time in five minutes. He felt like death warmed over, and the last thing he wanted to see as he stepped out of the locker room was Gil Grissom.

“Good evening, Nick.” He held up the assignment, which Nick all but snatched out his boss’s hand.

“Whatever.”

“Nicky?” Nick stopped at the nickname, a twinge of something close to comfort stirring at how easily the name seemed to fit the man saying it. Nick turned, and no anger met his eyes, no malice. Only concern. And hurt. “What is it? What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I just didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.” Although from the looks of things, Gil was fresh as a daisy. Gee, wonder how that happened?

“Ok. Take it easy tonight, and make sure you get some decent sleep tomorrow, ok? I don’t need one of my best not up to snuff. Deal?” Grissom smiled that perfect half smile he had, and Nick knew he was lost to anger.

“Deal.” Nick watched Gil walk away, taking with him all the bitterness Nick had and leaving behind only the pain of knowing he’d missed his chance. Gil was as straight as they come; Nick had always known that. But the best part about his fantasies had been the slim possibility that one day they might come true. Now, left in the wake of a now taken Gil Grissom, it felt like a little part of Nick had died. The part that had held out hope. The hope that Nick had clung to for so long, pining for a man he knew he’d never have.

And what a man! For a guy who didn’t have the greatest people skills, he always had this incredible well of empathy and compassion for people that had drawn Nick in the first day they’d met. Why did he have to care so much? And why didn’t Nick want to kill Jesse for taking something so precious from him?

Because he was never mine. And that one fact haunted Nick’s thoughts as he worked his case that evening, oblivious to a livid Ecklie brushing past him just after 6:30.

~*~*~

“I don’t care who the hell your mother is! You don’t get to talk to me that way, you insolent little bitch!” The office secretary, Judy, pulled her hand away from the door handle slightly, taken quite aback by not only the language emitting from the other side of the glass door, but the volume as well. She looked in to see Ecklie and the new lab tech. Jesse? Was that her name? Ecklie’s face was turning red, but she looked unfazed. Which was remarkable, considering they were just coming to the end of night shift.

“Look, Comrade, you can take it or leave it, but you can’t get rid of me, and we both know that!” And it sounded like she could hold her own, too. Judy pulled herself together a bit, encouraged by such a defiant display. Judy never did like Ecklie, not after he’d accused one of the CSI’s of murder.

“Wanna bet, you little shit?!” She took a deep breath and braved the worst, ready to bear witness to anything she would soon encounter.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ecklie?”

“What?” A little too sharply, Judy straightened and tried not to shake as she spoke.

“You have a visitor.”

“Visitor? You know we’re not allowed to bring people-” A wave of ebony hair and clothing pushed past Judy just then, moving to stand where everyone in the room could see her, which was just her style.

“So here you are, little brother!” Jesse froze, begging somehow that she hadn’t been seen, but she knew better. Not only was she seen, she was a target, and in the huntress’s sights. Ecklie blanched, that tiny muscle beneath his left eye twitching again.

“Marcella?” A pair of eyes not unlike her own found Jesse’s as she struggled to breathe.

“Mom?”

“Oh, my dear, it’s so wonderful to see you!” Jesse tried not to openly cringe at her own voice two octaves two high resonating horridly through the glass-enclosed room.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well-” The thick glass doors of the lab room opened, and in walked a man whose face seemed perpetually buried in a case file when he wasn’t staring down evidence.

“Jesse, I need the blood analysis on the Marques triple…” Gil looked up, stunned to find a disturbing image before him. Ecklie, as pale as Gil had ever seen him, Jesse looking like she was about to faint dead away, and between them a woman that looked like a rather disturbing caricature combination of the two more familiar faces.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Ecklie squeaked, which caused Gil more than a little alarm. “Marcella, this is Gil Grissom, the night shift supervisor for the lab. Gil, this is my sister, Marcella McCollum.”

“Fontana.”

“What?” Gil looked toward where the tiny voice had come from, barely recognizing it as Jesse’s. Where had her earlier vibrance vanished to?

“Yes. That’s the reason I ended up in Vegas.” She held out her left hand, brandishing a huge emerald and amber bauble held together somehow by a thin gold band as a matching stoneless band stood alongside. “I just got married!”

Jesse leaned against the back lab table, looking quite like she was going to pass out. Gil took his cue and walked over as Marcella had Ecklie engaged with her newest toy. And a toy they both seem to be.

“Jesse, that report?” She looked to the folder marked with his name, a series of paperwork peeking just over the top. He took the entire folder from its perch and took her gently by the hand a moment. “Could I discuss this case with you a moment? I need an intelligent sounding board.” At her weak but appreciative nod, Gil turned to find a pair of eerily familiar eyes boring into him.

“And just where are you taking my daughter, Sir?” She stood a few inches taller than Gil, but so had Lady Heather. He wasn’t fazed by anything except the empty black eyes that stared down at him. A killer’s eyes. Huh.

“I just need her help on this case. I need a technical specialist to look at some of the evidence I have gathered and work with me to determine how it interconnects.”

“Nonsense. She just got off work according to my watch, and I have every intention of taking her to breakfast.” The sickeningly sweet voice and insincere smile only made the eyes more menacing as Gil stood his ground.

“Well, it is important that I get this done-” Marcella walked over and took Jesse into her arms in a protective gesture that Gil had once only associated with overbearing lovers. But the arms of an overbearing lover never seemed so much like a pair of constricting snakes before.

“I’m sure that it can wait for a day. Surely you wouldn’t want to deprive a mother of her child whom she hasn’t seen in months?” Gil looked to Jesse, and his stomach turned as her eyes begged him to get her out of what was sure to be at the happiest an unpleasant visit. He couldn’t, even with time to think he’d never known what to say to his own mother let alone someone else’s, so he took a painful step away.

“Of course. I’ll let you be on your way then.”

“Excellent.” Her voice rose again, out of the darkness and into something no one would ever expect to be so…vile. She gave Jesse a huge hug, one the far smaller woman returned only tentatively. “Come, my sweet one, you really must tell me everything you’ve been doing lately.” Jesse barely had time to wrap up her work before she was moved bodily out of the lab under the ever-watchful eye of her mother.

“By the Gods, she was right.” Ecklie appeared beside Gil, his already sparse color slow to return.

“Who was?”

“Jesse. She said her mother was a beast. I can only imagine what life must have been like at home.”

“Don’t try to imagine it. It’s not worth the headache or the subsequent therapy.” Gil watched Ecklie all but cower his way out of the lab, and Gil didn’t blame him for a second. That woman was dangerous, of that he had no doubt, but his main concern now was Jesse, in the clutches of that …woman. Well, all’s well that ends well, and this is NOT going to end well…

~*~*~

Jesse worked through the things in her locker s as slowly as her shaking hands would allow. Her mother! In Las Vegas! What happened to ‘Malcolm McDougal’ from Boston? The bitch was supposed to be the living embodiment of high society in every Puritan –bred women’s club in greater Massachusetts, not gallivanting into Jesse’s life and work so she could show off her latest conquest, who Jesse had no doubt she was about to share a meal with. Knowing her, he’s probably out waiting in the car right now like a good little lap dog. She shuddered a moment, trying not to let the memories overtake her completely.

“Hey, Jesse.” Sara entered the locker room and began undressing as a vice that was quite a bit shorter than she took hold of her chest just as she was getting her tackle vest off.

Jesse wasn’t sure why she’d done it. She wasn’t even sure how it had happened. All she knew was that she was holding Sara Sidle in a death grip, and it felt absolutely amazing. The smell of her skin, the warmth of her body, even the lingering odor of the chemicals she used in her work only added to Jesse’s need for more.

“What’s wrong?” Sara knew better than to just push Jesse away. Besides, this was the first real body contact she’d had with her former lover since she’d arrived aside from a reflex hug, and Sara wasn’t about to turn down an embrace such as this. She wrapped her considerably longer arms around the small body against hers, amazed at how the little things started coming back to her. Silky soft hair that smelled like flowers. Smooth skin. Shaking skin. Sara pulled back a bit, feeling Jesse’s breath short and quick against her for the first time.

“You’re shaking! What happened?” Jesse looked up just then, her eyes brimming with tears. The smaller girl pulled away as if ashamed, then looked away as she continued to button her shirt. Before Sara could react Jesse was gone, and Sara was in motion trying to follow. But as she reached the door, Gil stopped her with a look she’d only seen him give suspects before.

“What’s up, Grissom?”

“Jesse’s mother was just here.” Sara’s face drained, which was a feat considering her pale complexion, something Grissom noted with growing unease.

“WHAT?!”

“Apparently, she dropped by the lab to harass Ecklie and take Jesse out to breakfast.”

“And you let her go? What the hell is wrong with you?!” He’d heard Sara yell before, but this was a new dimension entirely. Her voice held a new streak running alongside her usual anger and frustration, one that sounded like a combination of fear and panic.

“From what I can tell, you were the last one to see her, so you could have stopped her just as much as I.” Sara glared at him, practically seething as her fists clenched. “But be that as it may, I know you and Jesse have some kind of history, so I’m going to ask you because I know Ecklie won’t tell me anything: what’s the story between Jesse and her mother?”

Sara let out a resigned sigh, her arms crossing as a series of unpleasant memories encroached on her mind. “How much time do you have?”

“I have all day.” Sara sighed heavily again, her hands unclenching.

“Good. Because this is going to take quite a while.”

~*~*~

“I’ll have the Italian Roast.” Sara’s responses to just about everything had become stiffer by the minute ever since they’d left the lab. Grissom didn’t mind, as long as he got to the bottom of this whole thing.

“Earl Grey, please.” Grissom handed the coffee house menu to the young waitress, who practically skipped off to fill their order. Why a coffee house needed waitresses he would never know, but no matter.

“Well, I guess I should start by asking how you knew Jesse’s mother.” Grissom didn’t speak, he only readied himself as Sara took what could have been a half dozen breaths before continuing.

“We were roommates in San Francisco. We spent three years together, and I had several encounters with Jesse’s mother in that time. Some were pleasant enough, most were not, and a few towards the end were almost violent.” Their drinks arrived, and Sara mixed her usual concoction of way too much sugar and little else in before downing a good third of the steaming brew. Gil watched in morbid fascination as he dropped a single sugar cube into his tea of sugar and slowly stirred his own cup.

“I think I perplexed her. She couldn’t understand my feelings for Jesse, nor Jesse’s for me, and she wanted to get in the way as much as humanly possible. And for a woman with her connections, Marcella could really get in the way.”

“And when I asked for you specifically...?”

“I told Jesse about it, and she said it was the opportunity of a lifetime and that I should jump on it. We weren’t that far away, so we could still see each other, just not as often.” Sara downed the remainder of her still steaming cup, and their waitress dropped by just long enough to refill her cup. Gil took a sip of his own cup and didn’t even want to think about how badly she might be burning her throat.

“But you didn’t. You threw yourself into your work here, barely having any social existence outside the lab.”

“Yeah. Jesse and I lost touch almost immediately, and it’s difficult to keep a relationship like ours going without communication.” Her smile was as glass as she again prepared her cup. Her hands shook slightly as her jaw set tight, even against the hollow fascade. Gil smiled a bit despite himself. Only one thing in the world could make someone like Sara this emotional…

“So, the two of your were lovers.” Her spoon dropped suddenly, the sharp banging thankfully drowned out by the bustle all around them.

“Yes.” She waited a moment, worrying a bit at her bottom lip. “That doesn’t freak you out, does it?”

“Not at all. Believe me, Sara, you aren’t the only one in the lab with…shall we say differing orientation.” He took another slow sip of his tea, watching as the relief came plainly upon her, alongside the curiosity he’d come to count on in her.

“You?”

“As a three dollar bill.” Not entirely true, but being a perfect three on the Kinsey Scale gave him some leeway on what he had to divulge.

“I’ve always hated that expression.”

“So have I, but it gets the point across fairly well, so I use it in company I know will appreciate the subtext.”

“I see. Well, that explains a lot.” She took a far less enraged sip of her coffee, and Grissom regarded her somberly as her features sank closer to normal once more.

“Such as?”

“Why you never picked up on me.”

“Don’t be so certain I didn’t.” She looked over the rim of her coffee cup, and Gil couldn’t hold in a smile. She truly was oblivious to human emotion. It was a wonder she’d been able to keep hold of Jesse at all.

“I always knew about your attraction to me, Sara, I simply chose to ignore it. You’re a subordinate, and -no offense- a woman. I wasn’t interested.”

“You could have said something.”

“You have the chance to say something now, Sara. Catherine told me about your rather touching reunion in the lab her first day here.” He would have enjoyed seeing it himself. It might have motivated him to abandon this insane hope he still held for himself and Jesse.

“I was happy to see her. I was glad she was there, and that we’d be working together again.”

“But?” She looked up, and for a moment Gil wondered if she was this obvious with suspects.

“But I also kind of wanted things to go back to the way they were, and it hurt to know that they couldn’t.”

“How do you know?” Sara shook her head, but he wouldn’t have it. At least somebody was going to end up happy around here. “I know people, Sara. I may not do so well in practice with them, but I know how people think, clinically. Jesse’s very lonely, and you know her better than anyone. She needs a friend here in Vegas, especially with that…woman… in town.” Gil practically spat the word, suddenly unwilling to say her name.

“Yeah. I better go make sure everything’s ok.” Sara reached down and began digging for her phone.

“Indeed. She didn’t seem too thrilled with her mother getting married again.” She froze mid motion as iced over eyes met Gil’s, freezing him to the bone even in the new morning sunlight.

“Excuse me?”

“Jesse’s mother. She’s in Vegas because she got married, apparently last night.”

“And you didn’t think it was prudent to tell me this sooner?” He looked away a moment, not at all sure where this was going.

“Not really. Should I have?”

“Uh, yeah, it would have kept me from wasting my time here instead of getting to Jesse!” She dove into her purse for her wallet, frantically rooting around, flinging little odds and ends across the table as she dug deeper. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen Sara so disoriented, and that disturbed him more than a little. Sara looked up a moment, and the stark fear in her eyes was all he needed to see.

“Don’t. I’ve got this. Go to Jesse.” Sara gathered her things in a flash and was gone, leaving Gil with more than just the bill. Not that he really liked being referred to as a waste of time, but what on earth could make Sara so afraid of Jesse’s new stepfather? He threw a series of bills on the table and followed Sara outside. Whatever this was about, he wanted to find out what the hell was going on with this Marcella woman.

“So, how have you been enjoying this wonderful city?” Marcella continued to lead Jesse quite forcibly through the parking lot of the crime lab. For a moment, Jesse had hoped that this was all a nasty dream. Hell of a let down.

“It’s ok. I like my new job.”

“Good. I knew San Francisco was the wrong place for you. I’m glad you chose to come toward family. You know how I feel about being close to family.” She flashed a million dollar smile, the one that always made Jesse want to vomit.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, here we are.” Jesse was quit forcibly led to a black Cadillac that shimmered in the early morning sunlight. It would have been blinding if the sun had been but a few degrees higher. True to form, a man stepped out of the driver’s seat, standing easily a foot above Jesse’s head. He trotted over to Marcella and kissed her cheek, sending a dark chill up Jesse’s spine. Oh. This must be my newest replacement father. Joy.

“Jesse, I’d like you to meet Francesco Fontana. Francesco, this is my daughter, Jesse.”

“Marcella’s been talking about you non-stop since we got on the plane. Even during the ceremony last night she spoke of nothing else.” The rather handsome older man took her hand and kissed the back, and Jesse pulled her hand away just a little too quickly.

“So,” Marcella broke in, leading them back toward the car, “Shall we then?”

The restaurant was as Jesse expected. Extravagant. Exclusive. Expensive. And of course, she was nowhere near dressed for the establishment. Yup, she’s in rare form today. Bitch.

They were seated, and the stunning, super model wannabe waitress looked down her nose at Jesse and proceeded to pay much closer attention to her mother and new husband. Of course, Marcella ordered for everyone in French. Jesse knew the language, but she wasn’t about to step on her mother’s toes in public. Not yet, anyway.

“Well, my dearest, you’re probably wondering what brought me to Las Vegas.”

“I’m assuming it was him.” Jesse looked pointedly at her ‘new daddy’, using every trick her mother ever had to make him squirm. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie in record time. He’ll last six months before he can’t stand her anymore. Either that or he’ll be so subservient to her that she’ll get bored with him. Either way, out will go Husband #4 for one Marcella Ecklie. And not a moment too soon.

“So, tell me all about your new office.”

“You were just there, Mom.”

“Oh I know, but who was that man who we met just before leaving?” Oh, finally. Ammunition had arrived.

“Dr. Gil Grissom. He’s a friend of Uncle Norman’s, you know. Dad tipped him off to my coming to Vegas, and he spoke at length with Dr. Grissom before I got here. He’s been very kind.” Marcella’s wondrously fake smile waned slightly, and Jesse couldn’t help but smirk.

“Oh. Well, he seems like a very nice man.” Dismissive, forced, with a smile to match. How very her of her. Marcella and Norman hated each other with a passion, and in her eyes anyone who was a friend of Norman’s was low-class filth. This was going to be fun.

“He is very nice. He’s actually my boss. He’s the supervisor of night shift, as Uncle Comrade had said, and he is truly a gifted forensic analyst.”

“Really, you must change off of working nights. It’s simply not healthy for you to be so pale. You need more sunlight.” She took a sip of the wine they were provided, while Francesco took her unoccupied hand lightly. They made such a picture perfect couple. Too bad the frame was so screwed up.

“Having a child this pale is what you get for rutting with an Irishman, Mother. The hair and eyes were just a perk to prove I was actually his, I guess.” Her voice shifted to sugary, and Francesco balked a moment, obviously uncomfortable with talk of Marcella’s previous husbands. He wants to be another one of her conquests? Fine. He gets to know what happens to the men she goes through and just why she goes through them.

Marcella looked up with a guarded smile. Oh yes, the hackles were up and the game was on. “Well, your father always did have a temper-”

“Oh, that he did, Mother, especially in regards to you. I remember vividly how the two of you used to fight about just about everything. ”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose that’s why we’re not together anymore.”

“Really? I thought it was because he left you high and dry and took me with him after he found out you’d had an abortion just to cover up the fact that you’d been sleeping around. How kind of your lover at the time to rescue and eventually marry you, especially since he didn’t know about being an almost father.” Jesse looked back at her mother’s new toy, her bereavement broken only by her smiling eyes. “It truly was a tragedy when he suffered that fatal heart attack, especially with such a clean health record up until that point. Though leaving my mother all his money was a stroke of profound luck, don’t you think?”

“Yes, well, while this trip down memory lane is lovely, my dear,” Marcella said quite tightly, “I’m really more concerned about you.”

“Concerned? Why would you be concerned about me? You only lost me my last two jobs because you didn’t think I was suited for anything but getting married and becoming a baby factory.” That comment turned a few heads. Marcella turned to dismiss them with a smile, returning to Jesse with a stern look.

“This is not the time nor the place to have this discussion.”

“Well, since you seem so intent on talking, I say we make the time, Mother.” Jesse’s voice was steadily rising, getting more attention drawn as more people stopped talking in order to eavesdrop.

“I’ve been spending the better part of my adult life bowing to your wishes, but as soon as I find just a shred of happiness, you have to go and yank it out from under me just because I’m not the mirror image of you that you’ve wanted me to be since day one.”

“I only wanted what was best for you. And since you don’t seem to see what that is the way I do, I intervened when necessary to keep you on the correct path.” Francisco looked at Marcella as if for the first time, but Jesse paid him no heed.

“My Gods, do you listen to yourself? You never wanted a daughter. You wanted a clone. Someone who would be just like you in every way, understand you, make you feel good about the horrible choices you’ve made in your life.”

“My dear child, where does this anger come from? I have worked our whole lives trying to make life better for you.” Oh, and out comes the drama. Ever the martyr, she did it all for the family. And boy did she know just how to sell it. Every head in this section of the restaurant was turned, staring at their table and the insolent little girl causing all the trouble for her poor mommy. Well, if they wanted a show, she’d give them one.

“You never cared about me. You only wanted to use me to get back at my father and show me off to the world. Well, you know what? Fuck you, Mother. You don’t like who I’ve turned out to be? Maybe you should start asking where I get it. I’d start with a mirror.” With that she was on her feet, their waitress just behind her suddenly flying chair falling flat on her overly bony ass, soup everywhere. Jesse looked to her left one last time to sneer down at a man she would no doubt never see again. And it’ll still be too soon.

“Lovely to meet you, Francesco, but you might want to think about an annulment. She’s really not worth the time or trouble, and the alimony she’ll wring out of you in the divorce is positively obscene.” Several snickers were heard throughout the room, and Jesse couldn’t hold in a smirk as her mother looked completely aghast. Serves her right, the cow.

“Good-bye, Mother. The next time I see you better be in hell.”

~*~*~

She wasn’t honestly sure how she’d gotten there, but as her key turned in the lock to her front door, Jesse took a breath for what felt like the first time in hours. The door opened in silence, that same silence echoing within. Maybe she’d get a cat. And maybe monkeys would fly out of her ass right after the Wicked Witch of the East and half the population of Munchkin Land.

The door shut with the force of doom itself, shutting her in and the world out. She watched in half horror and half awe as the colors around her shifted in the thin shafts of sunlight that were allowed through the curtains, touching gently the real and the unreal as she worked her way into the kitchen. A single glass in the cabinet glowed faintly, and she grabbed it up along with the small bottle of the only alcohol she would ever touch: Russian Vodka. It wasn’t open yet, but she changed that with a green sparkling twist of her wrist. Love the green sparkles. Means this time I won’t be awake past the second drink. She poured out the glass until full, and took the bottle with her as she made her way into the living room.

The first sip was rough, especially since she hadn’t eaten since before she’d gone to work. But that didn’t stop the second sip, or the third. But that was as far as she could get before the rabbit showed up. Stupid rabbits, always pick the wrong times to come bouncing through a room. And she also wasn’t passing out, which was strange. She usually never made it this far into any drinking binge. First time for everything, I guess.

She watched as the fuzzy little critter watched her, twitching its violet nose and fluffing its orange and pink fur. This is new. Usually the rabbits are blue and yellow. She sat down in her favorite chair, fiddling gently with the heavy wooden handle in her hand. Good wood. Half to use this more often…

Not that it mattered. Her own mother hated her. Her colleagues thought she was a freak, and her former lover barely noticed her. Maybe this wood would be of use to her after all-

The knock echoed throughout the silent apartment, and Jesse didn’t even have it ask who it was. She knew only one person could be this relentless. Not to mention annoying. The rabbits fled, and the colors shifted back to normal with an alarming flash of light. And intoxication. Maybe that third drink wasn’t the wisest idea. She set the glass aside, fully intending not to touch it again as she approached the front door.

The latch gave way easily, even though the hard wood still hung heavily in her hand as she peered through the peephole. Before her stood a very interesting exercise in frustration. Jesse had to smile at that. Usually she was the one fuming. Good to know I can do at least some damage in the grander scheme.

“I thought I made it clear that you were no longer a part of my life.” She didn’t sound nearly as out of it as she felt, but she would have to pull it together if she was going to go toe to toe with the Bitch again. Twice in one day. Haven’t had this pleasure since we lived together. I hope that’s not some kind of sign. I’d hate to have to deal with her more regularly.

“I will always be a part of your life considering you are only alive because I happen to be Pro-Life. Now open this door.” Fuck her but she had a point. And for a moment Jesse wondered if it would have been easier to be a medical statistic as opposed to… nah. No fun in it. The door swung open slowly, the heavy wood tapping hard onto the small stand next to the hall closet. Marcella stood a moment and stared.

“Get in or get out, make up your mind.” As if stepping into the worst slum on earth, Marcella turned up her nose and gently toed her way inside. Jesse could almost hear her holding her breath.

“You and I must talk.” Marcella looked about quite a bit, surveying what she would no doubt consider ‘sub-standard living conditions’ for her daughter. Bitch.

“Having fun in Vegas with your new hubby, Mother? Should I inaugurate the occasion as I was once forced to?” The words were out before she could stop them. Her hands shook as the full brunt of them hit home hard. Keep it together. Can’t show her fear or she’ll destroy me again. Keep it together…

“That was very uncalled for, young lady.” The door slammed shut, and Marcella jumped at the deafening void of sound it caused.

“So was getting me fired. So was uprooting my entire existence. So was putting me in Comrade’s lab knowing how much I loathe the sniveling whelp, but you managed, didn’t you?” Jesse pushed past her mother and back to her drink glass, taking a good healthy gulp of liquid courage. She was going to need it.

“That was for your own good.” Big Bitch.

“Always is, isn’t it? I can’t look after myself, so ‘Mommy Dearest’ has to look after me.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it? You never think about the people around you, do you?” Jesse slammed down the glass in her hand, sending shattered pieces and vodka in every direction.

“You will never know what I do for the people I care about, you heartless whore.” She threw the last bloodied shard at her mother, narrowly missing her. “You rip my life to shreds on a whim and expect me to bow at your feet. You drop out of the sky and expect me to drop everything in order to be at your beck and call for the few hours that you happen to be anywhere near me.” You betray me to your lover just to keep him at your side until you’re ready to ditch him for the next big man that bats his wallet at you. “You don’t call to see if I’m ok. You ask all your ‘friends’ what they think of how I’m doing. Friends who are just like you, or at least know you well enough to know a meal ticket when they smell one. They’re so wrapped in your talons that they’ll say anything to stay in your good graces, even if it means lying about your daughter.” Jesse swayed heavily on her feet, but Marcella still swallowed hard.

“Every time I call, you lie to me about what’s really going on in your life.” She squeaked only once, but it was enough. The Marcella mouse had arrived, and the Jesse cat would pounce.

“Because I don’t want you anywhere near me! Why do you think I moved so far away from you? We were on opposite coasts for a reason!” She threw out her hand, spraying her mother with her own blood. A few drops was all it took to get Marcella flailing and Jesse laughing.

“Besides, the one time I told you the truth, you tried to have me committed! I told you I was in love, and you did everything in your power to stamp it out of existence.” Marcella stopped cold, the tiny blood droplets dripping down her face as Jesse stared wild-eyed at the stranger that was her mother. Stranger than most, at least.

“I wanted what was best for you, and that was not some lesbian you worked with! She wasn’t right for you. You need a man who can support and shelter you so I won’t have to anymore.” Great Big Bitch.

“You never needed to shelter me, Mother. And the only protection I ever needed was from you.” Jesse picked up the still intact bottle of vodka and took a good healthy swig. It stung her throat badly, but she didn’t care. The bottle slipped easily from her bloodied hand as she set it back on the coffee table.

“You wanted the perfect little girl, but all you got was me. Well, life’s full of disappointments. Learn to live with it and get out of my life.” Jesse watched as the paper flowers cropped gently through the wooden planks of her floor, dying instantly around her mother, leaving a hole in the tiny field of life. Jesse smiled, knowing they hated the bitch as much as she. Marcella took out a handkerchief and wiped her well-made face, grunting gently as Jesse felt a single rabbit brush her leg. She looked down, and sure enough, one little blue and yellow bunny hid behind her legs. She looked back, at ease for the first time since her mother had walked into her door.

“You’re right, ma chere. I am disappointed. I’m disappointed that someone as smart as you are couldn’t see what I was really trying to accomplish. And I’m disappointed that after all I’ve done for you, I know now that you will never live up to your true potential.”

~*~*~

Grissom arrived back at the lab, half chiding himself for taking off so abruptly. He had paperwork to finish, and people to-

“Grissom, we have a body in the middle of Clark County.” Grissom turned suddenly, his youngest team member jogging up behind him, hair everywhere as usual.

“Greg? What are you doing here?”

“I’m working a double today. You knew that.” Yes, something about a memo on his desk, Greg requesting extra time. He’d signed it, grateful for the help on the current heavy caseload.

“I did, yes. Ok, I’ll be right with you.” Greg jogged back, probably to retrieve his kit. He really was becoming a very responsible member of the team. Which reminded Grissom… He ducked into his office and locked the door for once, his phone in his hand. He never thought he’d actually have to use this, but he pulled up Sara’s number on speed dial. She answered before the first ring completed…

Sara snatched up the phone from the center console of her car and didn’t even bother looking at the caller id. If it wasn’t Jesse, she’d just hang up.

“Any luck yet?” Grissom. Perfect, especially considering she had precisely nothing to tell him.

“No. Nothing on her cell or her home phone. I’m going over to Jesse’s apartment right now to see if she’s there.” She turned a sharp curve at top speed, thankful that Nick had given her those late night police pursuit driving lessons.

“All right. Call me on my cell if something comes up. I’m getting ready to go out on a scene with Greg.”

“Got it.”

~*~*~

Sara pulled onto Jesse’s street just in time to be cut off by a black Cadillac. Rental. Figures. She pulled ahead, having no trouble finding Jesse’s apartment. She worked her way up the stairs to the mailboxes, and found the correct number.

A song she hadn’t heard in several hard fought years rang out across the relative silence of the complex in harsh, maddening tones. Sara’s feet were moving before her mind could react, and her eyes at last regained focus as her hands closed around the knob to Jesse’s door.

Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such silence,
Who are we mistaken?

“JESSE!” Sara pulled on the doorknob harshly, relived when it gave way without breaking. She moved through the front hall as fast as she could, only to be stopped by something under foot. She looked down, and for the first time took in the scene before her. The floor was covered in blood and water and glass. No not water, alcohol of some kind. Knowing Jesse, vodka, probably hard to find. She never drank except when she was at her wits end. The glass seemed to be moving toward the door, along with the blood spatter. Her mother must have been here.

Sara looked further, and saw as the only light from the outside came through a single curtain, held back by the slightest body, crowned in spun cinnamon. She reached out an adjusted the stereo volume to something a bit more tolerable.

But you see, it's not me, it's not my family.
In your head, in your head they are fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are crying...

Sara stepped closer, and noted with rising alarm the wood handled knife in Jesse’s hand. Her left hand, the hand she used to throw any such knife with more precision than any person Sara had ever known, and she had known a few. The blade gleamed in the morning sun as it grazed perilously close to skin. Her hands were shaking, but she didn’t seem to even realize the knife was so close. Sara knelt down next to the prone, unmoving form, hoping with all she was that she would not startle this skittish creature before her.

“Jesse, don’t do this. Please, talk to me.”

“And say what? It’s happening again, Sara. I can’t make it stop.” And it was true. It had started with flowers and bunnies, but as she’d sat and watched the life grow around her in her little world, it had gone from day to night, and with it came the screaming. Her screaming, from ages past. Always at night, always in pain, and she couldn’t make it stop. She couldn’t make herself stop.

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, dou, dou, dou, dou, dou...

“Let me help you, Jesse.” Jesse looked, and for a moment she wasn’t even sure what she was seeing. It was Sara and yet it wasn’t. The voice was unchanged, but the face seemed almost blurred, hazed as it tired to penetrate the veil of Jesse’s mind. She turned away before the image could truly plant itself in her memory. She knew if it did, she would never remember Sarah any other way, and Sara deserved better than that. She deserved better than Jesse could ever be for her.

Another mother's breakin',
Heart is taking over.
When the vi'lence causes silence,
We must be mistaken.

“My mother was here.” She sounded like she’d been crying. The blood and glass was enough for that, but Marcella had been here as well. Gods only knew what they’d talked about, but this much destruction told Sara enough not to ask.

“I know.”

“She just got married again.” Sara sighed heavily. So it had been her worst fears come true. She reached out automatically, but held herself back as Jesse flinched without being touched.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Jesse didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to risk going to her, to take the comfort in this world. If she did, it would mean the end of her older, better memories, replaced wit the fever dream that wouldn’t go away. Something cold hit her skin gently. Something realer than the colors than shifted across her mind. Was Sara even real, or was it all just a dream? The last comfort before the worst of it repeated as it always did? When would the screams come back? Would her own scream join them? Would he come for her again? Would she be able to run?

“I can’t make it stop, Sara.”

It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen.
In your head, in your head they're still fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are dying...

“We got through this before, Jesse. It’s been over two years. The fact that you lasted this long on your own is wonderful. It shows that you can beat this. You just need help. My help.” Sara watched in horror as the knife in Jesse’s hand got close enough to touch her. It didn’t break skin, but with her every breath her throat pushed against the gleaming metal, and Sara wasn’t sure she’d be able to reach for it in time if… No. Jesse wouldn’t do that. Would she?

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, hey, oh, ya, ya-a...

“I saw him. The paper smile, the horrid scent of her all over him. I knew he wasn’t real, but I saw it happening all over again. I can’t make him go away.” Sara did the only thing she could do. She reached out, and for the first time since she’d left California, she wasn’t sure what to do about anything.

Playground school bell rings again Rain clouds come to play again

Her hand ran gently over Jesse’s arm. Her touch was met with Jesse’s free hand, distractedly at first but only at first, the touch becoming more as the shaking began. The makeshift bandage across that hand was badly stained. The knife blade shuddered, drawing slightly away from the soft flesh of Jesse’s neck. Sara let out a sigh as it dropped to the floor, Jesse’s fingers trembling as a single tear worked free of one eye. Sara reached further, and slowly she was allowed to envelope the tiny creature before her. She swept her hands through the sunfire curls before her as a single sob rocked them both.

Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello I am your mind giving you someone to talk to
Hello

Someone to talk to. The one thing she’d always needed, and rarely had. Sara knew all too well the world that Jesse submerged herself in when she didn’t want to deal with reality. Jesse had gone into painstaking detail once about her ‘Meditation Place’, the world she’d built as a child that she’d used to escape and calm herself when life became too much for her. From life to plants to the sky and clouds, she’d built her only safe existence in a world all her own.

The trouble came when Jesse had begun using that world more often that the real world, and the two began to merge. She’d developed a problem with pulling back from her own world and into the real one, until she couldn’t distinguish them anymore. Sara had been able to help by providing herself as an anchor, but in the process she had fallen in love with the pixie now in her arms. This terribly creative, beautiful, brilliant little Highland faerie.

If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I’ll wake from this dream
Don’t try to fix me I’m not broken
Hello I am the lie living for you so you can hide
Don’t cry

And how many times had Jesse said those words? ‘Don’t try to fix me, I’m not broken.’ Even in the worst of moments. Even when the tears had streamed down her face. Even when Sara had held her, just like now, showing her that she was not alone. Even when alone was what Sara had left her.

“Something new?” The words came from her mouth unbidden, almost a question onto herself. Jesse pulled back a little, but Sara only wiped her rosebud face.

“Yeah. I found this sing just before I came here.” Jesse forced a watery smile, one she knew Sara would see right through. She wasn’t disappointed. Sara gathered her back again, and she went willingly, watching intently as the darkness ebbed, giving way to the tiny beams of sunlight filtering in through the heavy curtains all around her. Sara’s voice resonated through her, a welcome feeling against the cold of wood and bone running through and around her.

“Just before you found me.”

Suddenly I know I’m not sleeping
Hello! I’m still here
All that's left of yesterday

And did she still feel so lost? Did Sara deserve the chance to help her again? Would she accept it? Sara’s arms tightened, clinging that much more to the one person who truly did mean more to her than any job.

“Song’s a bit morbid for my taste.” Jesse thankfully chuckled.

“This coming from a woman who deals with dead people for a living.”

“And that from a woman who plays with blood-borne pathogens for fun.”

“Touché.” Another little laugh, one that set Sara to breathe more evenly. Jesse was calming, coming out of it. And not a moment too soon. Sara reached down and gently batted away the knife, just to be safe before wrapping all the tighter around her now smiling little love.

“You scared me, you know.”

“She scared me. He did, too.”

“I know. I got here as fast as I could.” Sara lifted her chin a moment to meet her still sparkling emerald eyes. “I wasn’t going to let her near you again if I could help it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here.” Jesse snuggled closer, her face buried deep in the softness of her former lover. Former, missed, but never forgotten. So many nights she’d dreamed of this. So many nightmares had been so filled with everything she’d ever feared that this -this warmth, this safety- that she’d clung to it to keep her wits until the nightmares passed, and they always did. It was always Sara, leading her back to the light, just as she’d always wished the real Sara would return to do just that.

“I wanted it to be you, Sara.”

“What about Grissom?” Bucket of cold water. Jesse practically shivered with it.

“What about him?”

“Well, ever since you got here, you’ve been getting pretty friendly.”

“And he didn’t drive me crazy for two years without even being there.” Sara almost sounded angry. So that’s what this whole thing had been about. She too thought she’d been forgotten. Jesse reached up to play with a single stray strand of Sara’s long hair. It does look better long. And Dark. Always loved it dark. Dark as the night. Gods, I love this woman. “He could never be to me what you are, and I’m not truly what he wants.”

“What do you mean?”

“Grissom is in love with Nick.” Jesse had to grin as Sara eyes shot to the size of saucers.

“Stokes?!” She smiled wider as her beloved squeaked like the mouse she certainly was not.

“The one and only. It’s pretty obvious when you think about it.”

“Maybe for you. I barely found out today that the man was even gay. Here I thought he just hated my guts on principal or something…” All other thoughts were swept aside in the wake of soft lips against her own. A curtain of dawn shrouded them both as Jesse pressed almost playfully against her mouth. As suddenly as it began it was over, and Sara was left only with the warmth of that smile across her lips.

“You always were oblivious to that kind of thing, Sara.”

“Not anymore, Jesse. I promise you, not anymore.” She leaned down and captured Jesse’s supple mouth, pliant lips molding against her own, opening to give her the taste she’d missed so much. Bitter liquor all but gone, it left behind only the sweet, succulent flavor of her former lover, and she knew they would not be former much longer if she could help it. Tongues dueled gently, slowly as they rediscovered each other. Slender fingers carded through midnight hair as Jesse stretched further into the kiss. They pulled back in the same instant, each gasping for breath as green eyes stared longingly into brown. “I’m so sorry you had to do this alone.”

“I got used to it.” Soft lips nuzzled Sara’s neck, familiar shivers racing across her skin, raising goose bumps as they went. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.”

“So why’d you leave?” Sara held a measure tighter, tucking Jesse’s head snuggly beneath her chin.

“Because you told me to.”

“I know.” Lick. “I lied.”

“So you came for me.” Shiver.

“She forced me here.” Another lick. Sara let her fingers roam just under the hem of Jesse’s top.

“You’re mother is a major pain in the ass, but right now, I want to kiss her.” Jesse looked up at her with a plaintive pout.

“Would you settle for me instead?”

Sara grinned so bright she practically glowed. Jesse reached up on tiptoe as she heard that voice she loved so much curl into a warm purr. “What do you think?”

~*~*~

“So, how’d it go?” Greg filed in behind Grissom just as the police were leaving. They were alone, and of course, Greg had to play ‘Chatty Cathy’. Or in this case, ’21 Questions’.

“How’d what go?”

“Oh, come on. Nick’s been fuming about it for what feels like weeks now. He saw you and Jesse in that back room at Catherine’s last night. What I want to know is how was she?”

“I didn’t do anything with her, Greg, and if you’d actually do some work around here, you’d realize that it doesn’t concern you either way.”

“Ok, ok, I get the message.” Finally, Gil thought as he bent down to take a sample of blood from the floor. A moment’s peace- “She is cute though.”

“Greg…” His tone was warning, but it only fueled Greg’s smirk.

“She’s not my type, to be honest, but she is very, very cute.” A bag closed somewhere over Gil’s shoulder, and it held a kind of finality Gil knew he couldn’t ignore any longer. What the hell was he going to do about this whole thing? Jesse, Nick, the fact that everyone seemed to be having sex around here except him. Which begged the question…

“And what, for the sake of morbid curiosity, is your type?” Greg regarded him a moment, his signature half-smirk rearing its adorably annoying little head.

“5’7”, medium build, dark hair, bubble butt and pecks I can really sink my teeth into.” Pecks?

“Wait. Are you telling me…?”

“What, you didn’t know?” Gil stood, opened mouthed as Greg’s head fell back in fits of giggles. “Oh, sorry. I thought everybody knew by now.” Gil could barely understand him through the laughter, which now had his thin face turning unnatural shades. What, was everyone keeping something about their sex life secret these days? Not that he tended to go around asking about such things, but Gil didn’t think his ‘Gay-dar’ was that off these days. He obviously needed to get out more.

“You had a girlfriend when last I checked. Granted that was a while ago, but still.”

“I had a girlfriend, yes. Then I discovered the wonders of not having one. I like it this way much better.” That damned smirk. What, was he practicing for something? Not that Gil wouldn’t mind putting it to work in other ways… Ok, need to suppress that. That’s…just…no.

“Oh.”

“You really should say something to her, Grissom.” Greg reached out, but Gil in his usual way found something important pertaining to the investigation to do across the room. Greg was cute, but he was also a kid. He could have his fun, but he was not going to invade Gil’s life. Gay or not, intelligent or not, he still knew nothing of this.

“I would like to say we should get off this subject.” Greg followed suit, more than expecting such a brush off.

“All right, but if you’re not careful someone’s going to beat you to the punch.” Gil watched as Greg carried a box of evidence bags out to the Tahoe, his walk like that of a contented cat wagging its tail. Stupid little half-assed punk that he could be, why did Greg have to be right, too?

A sharp chirp caught his attention, and his phone was in his hand and at his ear before his mind caught up to the action.

“Grissom.”

“Gil, we have a car crash. Ecklie wants you on this one personally.” Judy always came out so warm across the phone. He wondered a moment why she would work in a place like the crime lab. Then again, that could be asked of all of them.

“Why is that?”

“He seems to think you know the victims.” Gil’s stomach fell away as only two faces came to mind. Sara. Jesse. Sweet Christ.

“I’ll be right there.”

Gil pulled the Tahoe into a skidding stop. He practically jumped from the vehicle, barely remembering to grab his kit on the way out.

“What have we got?” Brass was relieved when he heard the familiar voice. Finally, someone with a cool head. He turned with a soft smile, and barely recognized what he saw. His old friend, and former rival for power in the Crime Lab, coming toward him at a hefty pace, his bad knees barely handling the speed. The look on his face troubled Jim quite a bit, but he seemed just within the boundaries of control that Jim dismissed it. For now.

“Man and woman in a Cadillac going about 70 through a 45 curve, blind turn, semi never saw them coming.” Brass gave his usually gruesome, no-nonsense analysis without his usual sarcasm. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. Gil was just opening his mouth when a thought came to him. Wait. Only two passengers?

“Just a man and a woman? No other passengers?”

“Nope.” Relief threatened to flood him, but he kept it at bay until the last.

“You’re sure?” Again with that really disturbing feeling that something about Gil was not right. Jim sighed deeply, not ready to deal with this so early in the morning.

“Please tell me I have only one CSI freaking out instead of two?” Oh, right. Ecklie had asked for him personally. That meant this was more sensitive than he was willing to deal with scientifically. He wanted to be on the PR end of things, which meant either the Sheriff or Under Sheriff was involved somehow. And Jesse and Sara weren’t. Breathe…

“Was the truck driver injured?” They began moving in the direction of the actual scene, Jim finally feeling better about this whole thing.

“Not yet, but if he gets within twenty feet of Ecklie, that might change.” Gil looked up a moment at that, and Brass could only smile. “Ecklie’s freaking out more than a little. He said you had to handle this because he was too involved.”

“Ecklie turning down a case. I shudder to think.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just glad it isn’t me. He’s tossed his cookies at least twice since I got here.” They walked a moment in silence, but just before crossing the yellow tape, Brass took Gil gently by the arm, his face awash in unmasked concern.

“Hey, you sure you’re all right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you roll up on a case like this before.”

“And you won’t again, if I can help it.”

Gil approached what was left of the Cadillac, at least somewhat relieved that he’d been wrong. The sun beat down hard as he walked, the soles of his shoes sticking to the lightly melting asphalt. The car looked like a soup can opened the hard way. The hood was completely caved in, and the roof was half peeled away, half flattened well past the bottom line of the windows. All four tires were blown, and rubber mixed with glass littered the roadway from one side to the other. Glitter and dull black. Something like metal and yet not glinted in the sunlight just at the passenger window. Almost like… Gil quickened his pace, the sight of that one shining object catching his attention in a far too familiar way.

He came to the passenger door, where what he could barely identify as an arm dangled from between the door and the roof, crushed. Crushed, but for the hand. Though bloody, it was as pristine as it had ever been. As the last time Gil had seen it. Emerald and amber in gold didn’t dull in blood, he noted with deepening sickness. Marcella, or at least part of her. Jesse. I have to tell her that her mother…

Acid pooled in his throat, and it was all Gil could manage to get far enough away from the crime scene to preserve both it and his dignity. The tumbleweed wasn’t so lucky. Again and again his insides heaved, bringing him to his knees as everything he’d eaten that wasn’t yet dealt with spread across the area, and in its place, only dread remained…

Suddenly something was happening. Gil looked up from his crouch to see Nick pulling him gently to his feet. A handkerchief came out of nowhere and was gently pressed to his mouth as Nick held him steady.

“Grissom! What the hell happened?” Gil looked into those beautiful tawny eyes, and for a moment Gil forgot where he was, forgot the sun, and forgot the acrid smell of burnt rubber and coppery blood. All he could see was Nicky, all he could smell was his shampoo, and sweat, and something so fine it could only be…

“Jesse.”

Nick could have sworn his stomach was trying to become one with the sand.

“What?” Gil shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts as well as his throat.

“It’s her. It’s…” He was suddenly on his feet, and Nick was an uncomfortable arm’s length away. Just within reach, but those eyes spoke of a distance he could not hope to span just then. He refocused, switching back to the professional. It took a great deal more effort than usual. “The victim. It’s Jesse’s mother.”

“You knew her?”

“Barely, but I’m more worried about…” Damn it. What if Sara hadn’t found Jesse yet? She wasn’t here, so where the hell could she be? He reflexively reached for his phone…which he’d thrown into the console of the Tahoe in his haste to get on site. He’d never picked it back up, even after moving it out of the way to retrieve his ID badge. He looked back to Nick, who was loading a digital camera with a new memory card. “Can I use your phone, Nick? Mine’s in the truck.”

“Your truck? That’s not like you.”

“I’m getting a lot of that today.” Nick tossed him the phone, and he flipped through the phonebook quickly to retrieve Sara’s cell number. He should have it memorized, but he filed that away to do another day as it began ringing.

“Sidle.”

“Sara, it’s Grissom. Don’t speak, just listen to me very carefully…” Nick listened off-handedly as he began taking the crime scene photos. The details relayed over the phone were clipped and quick, something Nick knew meant Grissom was more than a little upset. He wasn’t sure if it meant he should expect Sara to be here in the next five minutes in a major state, or if the two of them had something going on. Goodness knows she wouldn’t have minded that. Nick bit his tongue to keep from fuming too badly. Some chicks have all the luck.

“Oh my God…” Sara sounded almost fearful, and Gil knew well what she was about to do would be difficult for anyone, let alone someone as emotional unprepared as Sara could be.

“Is Jesse with you? Yes or no only, please.” There was a pause, one that Gil hoped meant something bad had not just happened.

“Yes.” Whew. Ok, now the hard part.

“Ok. Tell her what’s happening, gently. If you don’t think you can do that, please say so now.” A sigh, one he wasn’t sure was Sara’s. He closed his eyes a moment, steeling himself to ask later the questions that were breeding inside his head. One thing at a time. One thing at a time…

“I can.”

“Ok, do it. But Sara, please be careful.”

“I will.” The phone clicked off, ending the call. The camera flash was the only sound aside from the wind that came to Gil’s ears as he stared across the road to take in the piles of metallic carnage. All that remained of a life he knew nothing about yet wanted to in the name of morbid fascination. Anything to help him ‘better understand the criminal mind.’ Not to mention that he really didn’t mind seeing the mangled remains of that demon bitch. Gil shook his head. He hadn’t thought himself capable of such thinking anymore. What a difference one soul can make. Speaking of which…

“Nick?” Though Nick looked up at the sound of his name, he didn’t bother boring Gil with the details of his findings. He really wasn’t surprised when Gil didn’t ask.

“Over here.” Doing my job, which is more than I can say for you.

“Thank you for doing that.” Nick could almost pinpoint the second that Grissom shifted out of the personal and back to the professional. It was as efficient as everything else Nick had seen the man do on the job.

“Sure.”

“All right, let’s get this wrapped up. We need to get this stuff back to the lab, and I need to give this to Jesse.” Nick absently looked down at Gil’s hand, and almost joined him in losing his last meal. Was that a ring?

“Why?” It came out before he could think, but thankfully Gil didn’t notice.

“It was her mother’s. She doesn’t have to identify the body, thank goodness, but I think she’ll at least want this.” Relief washed over him in droves. Ok, he could handle this. He had to, this was just part of the job from now on.

“Oh. Ok.”

“You all right?” Nick looked up, the mask falling back into place with a smile.

“Yeah.” At the single raised eyebrow, Nick caved just enough to brush it all away. “Long story.”

“Come on. Let’s get this on the books and get us out of the sun.”

~*~*~

“Hey, nice patch job.” Jesse flexed her hand tentatively, feeling the butterflies stretch but hold. The bandages were just tight enough to keep everything in place, but wouldn’t affect her at work. A damn nice patch job.

“Should be. You taught me that, remember?” She smiled gently as she watched Sara put away her first aid kit. Sara had chided her at first about keeping such an extensive kit in the house, but after the first few uses, she didn’t mind so much any more.

“I did, didn’t I? I do good work, then.” The lid to the kit shut tight, and Sara latched it closed, pleased beyond words that Jesse still kept this kit so well supplied. She just wished she didn’t have to use it so damned often.

“Yeah, well, you always did.”

“Always?” Sara’s remark was going to be quite cynical, but just then her phone rang. Sara answered it, and Jesse decided to put away the kit to give her lover privacy. Lover. The thought of it still seemed foreign. She’d been alone for so, Jesse had thought that she might never find anyone she could trust so much again. Gil had indeed come close, but she’d known better. His heart was not hers for the taking. It belonged to another, and she wished them the best, if either one of them would actually remove their head from their rectum long enough to do something about it. Oh well. It wasn’t her place, especially considering recent events. Repression may not be very healthy, but it’s easy and it worked for a good long time.

“Jesse.” Well, seemed like repression wasn’t going to work this time, she thought as she heard her lover’s voice again. Jesse meandered back into the living room to find her guest still holding her phone, looking just this side of sick. “That was Grissom.”

“What’d he have to say?” Sara paled further, which was a feat considering her complexion. Not to mention the fact that nothing ever fazed Sara anyway. Not good. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“It’s…” She swallowed hard, and Jesse immediately led them both to the couch. Anything that got Sara this frazzled had to be hailing the apocalypse. “Grissom is with Ecklie. There was a car crash. Marcella…”

A single muscle under Jesse’s left eye twitched as all color drained down her neck. Her normally vibrant emerald eyes turned a sickly pale green, her skin rolling over in waves of sour milk. She tried to speak, but it didn’t come out as much more than a gurgle. The whites of her eyes watered into puffy pink balls as her throat fought to produce more than a gasp. The shaking began slowly, starting at her hands, moving and multiplying into the rest of her body, until she was a single human earthquake. A single tear worked its way free as at last her throat figured out how to work again.

“Oh. My. God…”

And then she was gone. Sara didn’t have to work hard to catch the suddenly limp figure before her. Jesse was still shaking even as Sara combed back her hair and moved just enough to swing her into her arms. This wasn’t a good place for her. She needed fluids, as well as a good once over by a Doctor. There was only once place that Sara knew of in all of Vegas that could accommodate, and it just might be the best place for Jesse to be just then. Sara leaned down and kissed the sweat dampened forehead as she made her way toward the door.

“That’s it, baby. Sleep now. It’s over.” It’s finally over…

~*~*~

Though they’d taken separate vehicles to the scene, Grissom followed closely behind Nick as they made their way back to the lab with the evidence. It was more a protocol than anything else, but since it was for Ecklie, Gil decided going through the motions for a day wouldn’t kill anyone. Besides, it was a thankfully slow day, paperwork not withstanding. Nick was also inside before Gil was even out of his truck. He didn’t understand Nick’s hurry considering the circumstances-

“Grissom!” Oh, Brother. Literally. Gil turned just in time to see a very disheveled Conrad Ecklie stalking toward him. The Iceman cometh.

“My office. Now.” Grissom groaned aloud. This he was not in the mood for, but he followed just the same, making sure the door was shut tight once safely inside Conrad’s office.

“So, what the story?” There was that tone again. The one that made Gil wonder why he didn’t take the supervisory position just to keep it out of Ecklie’s hands.

“Meaning?”

“This case. Where are we?” Ah yes. Because the entire night staff would have quit by now if Ecklie had his job.

“We’re nowhere. This was a simple accident. The truck driver-”

“Was obviously drunk and needs to be arrested for vehicular manslaughter! So what are you waiting?!” Ecklie sounded downright angry. If Gil didn’t know better he’d say the man actually gave a crap.

“Ecklie, we tested him. He was clean. It was a blind turn-”

“Not with how far he was off the ground! That truck put him ten feet in the air! Damn it, Gil, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Huh.

“Tell me, Ecklie. Why would you morn someone who tortured you for fun? I had no idea you were such a masochist.” To say that the color drained from Ecklie’s face would be untrue. That would imply that there was color to begin with. Conrad ran a stiff hand over the back of his neck, hissing slightly at the pain it caused.

“It’s a long story.”

“Thought so. Let me do my job, Ecklie. You’ll get the report when we’re finished.”

“Sure.” And it was all he could do not to jog out the door. He just wished he hadn’t looked back. Ecklie was slumped in his chair, head in his hands, and unless Gil’s eyes were playing tricks, he was shaking. Ummm… yeah. Memo to myself: send the office shrink to Ecklie when I see her.

Gil worked his way back to his office, watching intently for any signs that Sara had been back recently. He’d been trying Sara by cell for half an hour, and still nothing. Sure enough, he found her in a back exam room, hovering over a lab table. What the heck was she working on? Her case the night before had closed, or so he’d thought.

“Sara?” She looked up, almost stricken despite the forced smile.

“Hey, Grissom.” She didn’t move from her spot, and turned back toward whatever she was concentrating on. She made no mention of Jesse, which worried Gil quite a bit. He moved next to her, and felt his stomach fall away.

Tousled sunset curls lay strew across a thick white drop cloth over the hard metal table. A thick lab coat was folded under her head, another covering her. She was hooked up to an IV of what looked like simple saline. No wonder she hadn’t mentioned anything about her.

“Doc Robbins was here. He checked her out, and gave her the fluids.” She forced a smile again, this time more for her own sake than for his. “You didn’t think I’d hook something like this up, did you?”

“What the hell happened?” The cordial façade dropped away, both of them knowing who had caused this change in their girl.

“It’s a long story.” Boy, was he tired of hearing that today.

“Then give me the Cliff’s Notes.”

“Look, it really isn’t my place-”

“Excuse me, Sara, but I’m a little tired of wading through bullshit today. Now start talking.” He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but someone was giving him some answers today, damn it!

“I did what you asked. I told Jesse, she freaked out, she fainted, and I brought her here to rest.” Yeah, that much he could see. So what was she leaving out?

“Why here and not the hospital?”

“She hates hospitals. Waking up in one for her would be like waking up in hell.” Sounded like personal experience talking. Gil noticed suddenly the bandaging around Jesse’s hand. It looked homemade, but Doc Robbins had been here, so he would have checked it. If he hadn’t changed it, then it meant Sara’s work had been proper. And practiced. Definitely personal experience talking.

“Why is that?”

“Her stepfather. Her first stepfather.” Stepfather. Overbearing mother. Complete nervous collapse. It all allowed for only one conclusion. A conclusion that felt like molten lead in Gil’s stomach.

“She was abused, wasn’t she?”

“Oh, it’s far worse than that.”

“Tell me.” Sara bit her lip suddenly, something warring behind her eyes. He looked down at Jesse a moment, and swept a single strand of hair from her face.

“Please, Sara. She’s a subordinate, a victim and…a friend. I need to know.” He fought hard not to let it show, but after being up for almost two days and still recovering from being scared out of his mind twice in one day, he just didn’t have it in him to put up the smokescreen anymore.

“For the case?”

“Fuck the case right now.”

“Sit.” Her voice was strained, which kept Gil right where he was. A single hand landed on his arm, and he stared down at it, as if not sure what to do with it. “Trust me, you’re going to want sit down for this.” He leaned against the table edge as she played with a single limp curl.

“Jesse’s mother married Robert Bronte when she was about ten. They were married for about three years. About two and a half years into the marriage, Marcella and Robert started fighting. One night after Marcella had kicked him out of their bed, a very angry and frustrated Robert went into Jesse’s room and…” Her voice never broke. It simply trailed off into nothing, leaving the room as empty of sound as the widening hole forming in Gil’s stomach. It explained so much, but left too many questions unanswered. Gil held his tongue as Sara continued, and tried hard to listen over the pounding in his head.

“It lasted for several months, and Jesse still has most of the scars. He used to put out cigarettes on her skin, and he would hit her if she screamed. Needless to say, she was in the ER getting patched up a lot. Her mother used to pass it off as bullies and tree climbing.” Gil shook his head slowly. Typical, and to think some ER nurses still believed that crap. “When the bastard died of a heart attack, Jesse’s mother remarried right away, and Jesse always feared that this man would be the same.”

“Did her mother know about the abuse?”

“That’s the thing. Marcella knew all along.” Gil’s heart pounded once before stopping. One second. Two, before starting up again, balefully. He could still see that evil woman holding onto Jesse, and thinking that she’d looked like a jealous lover. No, not lover. Predator.

“When Jesse told her about it initially, Marcella told her she’d better not only stick it out, but she’d better be good at it or Marcella would drop Jesse in the nearest child bride whorehouse. She said the same thing again every time she remarried until Jesse left for college when she was 16.”

Sara tried hard not to break the hand within her grasp. She could still taste the tears Jesse had cried so many nights they’d spent together trying so hard to get her over this. She’d even thought they’d succeeded once or twice. But then Marcella had whirled into town like a pyroclastic cloud, bringing with her all the horrid memories and every ounce of pain. Jesse was always so strong until the evil bitch left, and then she would break, as gently as a sapling in a twister. Sara knew good and well that Marcella did it all on purpose. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the power she wielded over Jesse the same power she’d always had.

Not anymore. The words repeated in Sara’s mind like the mantra they were, steeling herself to the task she knew would keep her busy for quite a while but would finally be rewarded in the end. Jesse was free. The past be damned, they were free…

The anger bubbled just below the surface as Gil tried not to destroy the nearest things to him. So Jesse had gone almost her whole life looking over her shoulder, trying to outrun more than just her abuser, but the monster who’d forced one on her. Gil felt his knuckles crack as his grip on the table tightened.

Hands. Reaching out to shaking skin, uncaring. Touching, stroking, heedless to the tiny noises she made. Taking his pleasure, his fill, ignoring her pained cries. Leaving her discarded like some used up toy, left to rot in the only place she had right to call her own. Only to return when it suited him. When his wife would not have him, and his would-be child was ashamedly complacent…

“That…BITCH!” Sara didn’t even flinch at Gil’s outburst, knowing well that rage. She’d let it consume her once too, and she watched as all the emotions she was so familiar with washed over his face like a black tide. For once he was open, and for the first time it didn’t matter to her. Funny what a little redhead could do.

“Now you know why I freaked out earlier.”

“How could she?” Gil was only one step shy of knocking his head against a wall. Repression wasn’t going to work on this on, case or no case. Disassociation wasn’t even coming close. This was more than inhuman. It was sadistic. And to think he’d let Jesse go off with this woman! Sara was right. What the hell was wrong with him? “How could she?”

“Gil, Jesse made me promise I would never tell anyone. Please, don’t say anything.” He met her eyes at last, letting the mask fall back into place. This was not for anyone else’s eyes. He would see to this, but not here. Not so near to Jesse.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand people.” Gil reached into his pocket and retrieved the only piece of uncataloged evidence he’d ever taken from a crime scene. He took Sara’s rather clammy hand and placed the ring in it, gently closing her fingers over the precious band. She looked up at him quite puzzled, and he did not have to wonder why. Of course she wouldn’t understand. This was a woman who barely knew her own heart, let alone anyone else’s.

“Stay with her, Sara. Don’t you dare let her be alone.” She gave a tired smile and turned back to her charge.

“I won’t. Not this time.” With that he was gone, in dire need of a quiet place he knew of in a little used part of the lab: the sound booth.

~*~*~

Nick worked his way down the final report of the accident. He wished with every breath that he’d been out at the insane scene by himself, but he knew better. He’d come onto the scrap heap to the sound of horrid retching, and found Gil doubled over in a way Nick thought he would never see the man. He couldn’t have kept his feet from moving if he’d been wearing lead boots. He’d gone to the man he loved without thought or pretense, and brought him back to standing as best he could, trying so hard to ignore the feel of the sweet weight in his arms. He’d tamped down the temptation of those amazing lips with a handkerchief and the knowledge that the man would probably want a toothbrush after something that violently disgusting.

But then Gil had looked up at him with those blue eyes so clouded and full of something Nick couldn’t begin to understand. Something primal and raw and needy. And he’d said her name.

Nick tried hard not to delete the report in front of him just to spite her. Stupid interloping little bitch. Why’d she have to show up anyway? She’d barely been here a month and already the whole lab loved her. Gil was falling all over himself around her, Sara thought she was a god, and Warrick talked about her more than gambling or Catherine. Even Jim was talking about her, and Jim didn’t talk about anyone! Greg seemed to be the only holdout, treating her like any other tech, bless him. A smile touched at Nick’s lips at the thought of his young friend’s immunity to that siren’s charms. Good old Grego…

~*~*~

Gil paced the empty silence of the soundproof room. It had been a welcome addition to the facility after that rather embarrassing incident at the School For The Deaf. Now it was Gil’s private place to think, safe within the confines of his own mind. It helped more often than he cared to admit. As he had slowly lost his hearing, he’d feared being in such a state of near-perfect silence. Yet now, as he paced through the sharp depravation, he savored the lack of distraction, the seamless, chaos-free void.

Once erected, Grissom had forced each of his CSI’s to spend one half hour in the chamber without sound so they would have a better understanding of how it felt to be without hearing, and perhaps gain an insight into his ways of thinking. All had complained, save one. Nick.

He’d come out with a smile of his face, and a secret gleam in his eye that Gil had never understood. So many things about this young man vexed him terribly. So many looks left unanswered. So many sighs and gentle brush offs left without question. So many touches, soft and kind, given and received without thought or reason. Perhaps there had been no need of one at the time, but there was now.

Nick was angry, that much was obvious. He’d been more than simply distant; he’d been downright standoffish. Gil might expect belligerence from the passionate younger man, but this seemed almost… defeatist. As if he had given up on something, a notion he’d kept close to the heart, and now he was angry about his choice. Or was Gil simply imagining it all, seeking some kind of connection when there was none?

A thought that brought his mind squarely back to Jesse. His flowing stride skipped a bit as he mulled briskly over all that Sara had revealed about the young woman. The very thought of it! Her own mother selling her out as little more than a sexual plaything just to keep a husband! How could any woman do such a thing to any child, let alone a daughter! And to threaten her child with molestation if ever a husband of hers demanded it! This was one of the few times in his whole life Gil wished for the invention of a time machine. The image of another man’s hands brutalizing her body and mind for sheer pleasure made him ache…

But she’d survived. Not only survived, but lived on to help others, in her own way. Her mind obviously had not suffered too harshly, for hers was a brilliant, vibrant soul that had brought light for the first time in years to his life. Though that wasn’t quite true, was it? Again his thoughts slipped back to Nick, an interesting kaleidoscope pattern of the two faces interposing across his senses…

Gil shook himself free of the daydream, his focus doubled on the task at hand as his rhythm increased. It just didn’t add up. He kept getting such mixed signals from Jesse, and heaven knew Sara wasn’t about to tell him anything. She was in no state to, and after what she’d already told him over the course of the last twelve hours, he wasn’t about to ask her about her relationship to Jesse.

And Nick was straight, so that was definitely a dead end.

Which left only Jesse herself. What the hell was Sara to her anyway? What was he? The two girls had been roommates, lovers from years ago and obviously close in a way he couldn’t hope to be with anyone any time soon. Yet their relationship had seemed so strained ever since Jesse’s arrival. He’d barely seen them speak, let alone spend any real time together. Yet Sara would have run down the Pope to get to Jesse today. And Jesse had clung to her, even in the deepest sleep. Closer than sisters…

He had to know for certain. He wasn’t about to go out on a limb for this if he wasn’t sure. And there was only one way to know…

Gil emerged from the sound isolation chamber a man on a mission. One that would either lead him to his fantasy, or sentence him to the doom of his heart…

~*~*~

The report printed after a rather lengthy spell check. Nick filed it away in the folder as he was supposed to and hurried off to Gil’s office. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in and Nick could just drop it on his desk without being noticed.

As he passed through the main exam hallway, a wisp of something caught his eye. He looked to see a mass of familiar red curls spilling over the side of a metal exam table and Sara standing just to one side, looking just shy of dead.

“Hey, what happened?” He barely held the concern at bay as Sara’s usually knife sharp eyes rose to meet his, dull and barely focused. Gods above, when was the last time she slept?

“Jesse didn’t take the news of her mother real well. She’s resting.” Nick looked down at the table for the first time, and this time holding anything in failed. His previous thoughts of her seemed out of place against the huddled figure before him. She lay curled slightly to one side, her features so pale they seemed to glow in the harsh light of the single lit lamp. Her freckles became deep shadowed places that crawled across her skin, her delicate hand clasped tight in Sara’s. So nice to know she had so many friends, he thought bitterly.

“Yeah. Listen, I got the report finished. Much as I hate to say it, this one wasn’t hard.” Sara choked out a laugh, one that struck Nick down to the bone. She swept a lock of hair out of Jesse’s face with the care and ease of a sister. Or an old flame, perhaps... Nah! Nick tried not to bust out in giggles at the particular moment. This was Sara, after all. She couldn't hold a boyfriend if he came complete with handles and manual. A girlfriend? Yeah, right. And winged horses will fly out of my ass…

“Great. I’ll let Jesse know when she wakes up.” Sara wasn’t paying him much attention anymore.

“Thanks. You seen Grissom?”

“He was here a little bit ago to look in on Jesse. He didn’t look too good, and he was really wigged out about this whole thing. Knowing him, he’s buried in work somewhere to take his mind off it.” Well didn’t that just figure. Everyone on earth seemed to wig Gil out to the point of insanity, while all he got from the man was a would-be nursemaid trying to alleviate a guilty conscience.

“Yeah. Well, thanks, Sara.”

“Sure.” Nick beat a hasty exit, hoping once again to drop off his report without seeing Grissom. Well at least one good thing was coming out of this whole situation: Nick now knew where he stood. The same place he always had. Some things never change. Maybe they weren’t meant to.

Sara watched Nick all but bolt from the room, and wondered absently if Grissom knew he was so popular. Nick had always idolized him, that was never any big secret. She doubted it, though. Men like him rarely understood… She smiled as she straightened Jesse’s clothes for the third time in ten minutes. To listen to her, someone might think she knew something about-

“Sara?” The grip on her hand had changed, and she hadn’t even felt it. But the glow of those eyes could be seen from space. She watched as a dry, tired smile beamed up at her like a lone moonbeam.

“Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit with a truck.” Sara held her tongue, not daring to tell her.

“Can I get you anything?” The words were barely out of her mouth before she heard the medical tape rip from Jesse’s arm. She watched in horror and fascination as the IV tube was tossed to one side, and continued to marvel as Jesse sat up with only mild effort.

“Not really. I just want to go back to the DNA lab and get some work done-”

“Not a chance!” Though she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice, Sara’s hand still set firmly on her lover’s shoulder as she tried to stand. “You’re not going anywhere right now. There’s already someone taking your place-”

“You of all people know better than that, Sara. I do some of my best work under stress.”

“Still, I’ll stay with you; help out if I can.”

“I have a better idea. Is Comrade still here?” Comrade? Oh, this was either going to be very good, or very, very bad.

“Yeah, why?” And that did it. Behind the mossy colored eyes, beyond the grim puffs of shortened breath was that subterfuge grin. The one that promised every kind of misadventure under the sun, if given the right circumstances. And Sara was always up for one of these magical mystery trips.

“Well, I’ve been thinking, and I wanted to discuss something with you…”

~*~*~

Gil walked with slow purpose as he made his way through the lab in search of Jesse. Of course, he’d begun in the exam room where he’d found less than nothing, but instead he found her in the lab, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. Which was more wrong than most things he’d seen today. He watched her a moment as she did the same things she would normally. The slight shaking of her hands troubled him, but he couldn’t blame her. Reliving any traumatic moment was difficult, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance by any stretch. Like anything around here could ever be normal.

“Hey. Feeling any better?” Jesse looked up at him with a very tired smile. She looked so much older, so worn. How he wanted to bring that life back to those eroded eyes.

“Much better, thank you.” He watched as she continued her work, mostly filling out report questionnaires and other paperwork. It was a distraction from reality he was very familiar with, and one he’d always loathed within himself. He’d sunken so deeply into his world before that it had taken weeks to bring himself back out, even just to see that there was nothing to hide from. Now he watched her do the same thing, and wondered just what she was thinking. About Sara. About him. About everything. One way to find out.

“I know this is going to seem forward, but would you object to seeing me in a less professional setting?” The pen she’d been using bounced twice on the counter before she reached to retrieve it, her fingers shaking.

“Grissom… I’m flattered. Truly, but I can’t.” Grissom? Since when did she call him anything but ‘Gil’? Well, time to sink or swim. Not that he knew how to swim.

“There’s no way I can convince you?” Her already ragged curls seemed to protest her touch as she pushed them over one ear, her face a haunting blank.

“You don’t need to convince me. I simply can’t do this. I’m sorry.” And there it was. Simple. Easy. And nowhere near good enough.

“As am I. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You didn’t. I just…” The emptiness of her face filled like a rain barrel, her outward calm falling away as his began to slip in its wake.

“Jesse?” He watched as she brought a hand to her face. Her bandaged hand, still badly bruised. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but…” He reached out to her, but she pulled away almost as if repulsed. She barely steadied herself on her feet before she spoke again, every word a shaking plea. “Gil, please, I can’t do this.”

He tried to keep his breathing steady as his body ran cold. The little black box in his mind that held the monster that was his insecurities popped open, letting emerge every doubt he had about himself. And one brand new one. Is that how she saw him, too? A monstrous demon that would only bend her to his will and then toss her aside like some broken doll?

“You can’t do this with me, or you can’t do this at all?” When her eyes met his, he could have sworn he heard a wave crash within them.

“You don’t get it. I’m not here to stay.” Gil blinked owlishly as the words sank in fully.

“But you love it here.” Not staying? But that was absurd! Sara was here. Her mother was gone, no longer controlling her life. There was nothing holding her back anymore. What more did she need?

“Not for the right reasons. There are things here that I can’t do. What you’re asking of me is one of them.” Gil felt his stomach fall away, the thought of losing Jesse far more worrisome than he’d thought it would be. He had of course counted on a possible open rejection on his own part, but not on hers. He hadn’t prepared for such a blow to his grudgingly unstable ego, and now as it stared him squarely in the face, he wasn’t sure dealing was an option at all, all of Vegas not withstanding.

“Remember when I told you that I was happy to leave San Fran because it would get me back to the mountains?” He nodded dumbly, his logical mind still well controverted by his vaulting emotions.

“I was wrong. I had thought for so long that the mountains were where I belonged. But now I see that I was already where I belonged. I thought the mountains were a part of me, but I see now that my heart belongs to the sea, as it always has.” A thought struck him then, one that burned a hole in his chest as it came into full being.

“This isn’t about Nick.” Liar, I am.

“Yes, it is, and you know it.” Gil looked away a moment, another whole set of red, raw emotion welling within him. She knew. Nick’s anger made a harsh kind of sense in this new blinding light. Nick knew. Jesse knew. He was losing the only two people he’d ever truly cared for, and they both knew it.

“You know he cares for you, and you can’t tell me that you don’t care for him as well.” Her words swam within his mind, clinking nosily with the already aching feelings he had toward the younger man. That man with a smile that could melt a glacier. That man with eyes as deep as the night itself…

“You must go to him, Gil. He needs you.” Gil snapped back to himself, the dormant protector within him coming fully to life once again. Though she didn’t seem so fragile just then, so in need of protecting. She stood fully before him, and though her cheeks had tinged and her eyes shown bright, they held a new kind of strength, one he envied. She knew what she wanted, and she would settle for nothing less. But what?

“What about you?”

“I know my way home, and I know now that it is not here.” She touched his face so gently, and his own hands swooped in to keep her there, something he could not do for his heart.

“Go, Gil, before it’s too late.” He shut his eyes harshly against the tears, not just for what he was losing, but for what he had the potential to gain this night.

“I’ll never forget this, Jesse.” I love you, he didn’t say.

“Then you’ll never forget how much he means to you.” A single kiss to her cheek and he was gone, down the hall and out of sight before her eyes could hope to follow without tearing. I love you, too…

“So?” Sara’s voice was a welcome reprieve as she walked slowly from behind a file cabinet. Jesse smiled into the eyes of her choice, more than content with her decision and all it would entail.

“He’s on his way.”

“And we…?”

“Have an appointment with Comrade.” She slipped an arm around Sara’s waist and her head snuggly against her lover’s neck, glad for the height difference they shared. “Ready for the ride of your life?”

Sara placed an airy kiss to the cinnamon curls before her, a smile she didn’t want to hide anymore filling her face and heart. “I can’t wait to see this!”

~*~*~

Gil pulled up to the building he knew well enough, relieved to find the other Tahoe parked in the drive. His own SUV pulled up close and he all but leapt from the driver’s seat, ready to take on the world if it meant reaching his goal.

As he reached for the door he heard it, a dull thud that sounded too large not to be human. And just behind it, a wail like that of agony given life.

He opened the door with his key as quietly as his shaking strength would allow. After Nigel Crane, Gil had been so flattered that Nick had trusted him with it, and yet he’d never used it until now…

In a moment he was in the back bedroom, though he couldn’t remember getting there. Before him lay a man he knew and yet didn’t, tangled so tightly in the sheets of the king size bed that Gil wondered how he’d managed not to tangle them around his neck. Gil toed off his shoes as he moved forward and slid onto the bed next to the terribly shaking form…

SMACK! Nick reeled from the shock of the blow. He’d expected it, just not so soon. He hadn’t even had a chance to speak, to defend himself before the blow came down, not that he expected any less.

“Please…let me explain…” He worked his way slowly to his feet, trying hard to remember what he’d been trying to say, what had happened to make the man before him so angry.

“Yes, I see begging comes easier to you. I can’t say I’m surprised, considering how often you’ve come crawling to me, begging for forgiveness. Well, not this time, Nick.” The second blow didn’t come from any strike to his body. It slashed across his heart sharper than any knife. The look in the other man’s eyes was not simply of rage or pain, but anguish. A hollow absence, bereft of anything but what Nick hadn’t been able to give.

“Gil…” The word was caught somewhere between a gasp and the howl of a dying dog.

“Stop it, Nick, it isn’t going to work anymore. I’m done waiting for you to cut it. You’ve never been anything but a disappointment!” Something twisted deep in Nick’s gut, and he was on the floor before he knew what was happening. The room spun violently, but Gil remained constant, unmoving. His one focus. His only hope. Nick reached out blindly, but the figure before him pulled away as if bitten.

“I’m sick of having to clean up your messes. Every time I turn around you’ve got some new excuse for shotty work and for being a complete screw-up. That crap ends now, Nick.” Nick couldn’t see the look that had gone with those words. He was too busy being doubled over, his chest on fire. His legs gave way beneath him. He could feel the fall and the ground reaching up for him, but never the sudden stop. At least not yet. Not that he cared anymore.

“I just wanted you to be proud of me.” And that had been his one true mistake. Seeking that reassurance, that confirmation of what he was in the eyes of the only man who had ever touched his heart. So many women had tried, but all had failed save one, and mother’s never count for these things. Nick had sought out that touch from so many men, but only one had ever seemed to reach back. And that hand that had reached for him had now laid him low. Go fucking figure.

“I loved you.”

And then it happened. It scratched across his ears, low and thick and harsh, deafening. Choppy and yet filled with more anger than spite. Insult, added to injury, thrown into a blender and sent down Gil’s throat to come up gargled and beautiful, his laughter like frozen fairy dust.

“You think you’re worthy to even have feelings for me? I need someone with something between their ears aside from space for rent and Discovery channel bird shows.” The room spun on every axis, and suddenly Gil went with it, his iron needles laughter echoing in the abyss as the seams that held it all together dropped away. Nick didn’t bother trying to stop it. Gil was right. He’d never be good enough, not even to love him. He didn’t deserve any of it. And that voice that had always held such meaning for him followed Nick down as the darkness snuffed out the only light Nick had ever truly held onto…

“Pathetic.”

“No…Gil…please…” Gil watched as Nick flailed once, his hand cracking loudly against the wood headboard. The arm swung out again, but Gil caught that twitching limb mid-air and held it gently. Nick’s face scrunched in pain as he tried to pull his hand back.

“Nicky.” Gil took a moment to examine the injured hand. Not serious, just loud. He held that hand to his heart as he watched Nick slowly come back. The clouded eyes opened slowly, and without a thought Gil gathered Nick to him, feeling the taught muscles seize further in his grasp.

Nick fought hard against the haze his mind always dropped him in after that kind of nightmare. But was it? He tried to open his eyes, but it was hard to take a deep breath. Something was wrapped around him. Arms? Yes, strong, and they were holding him up. When at last he thought to he looked just to one side, a mass of dull silver hair meeting his gaze. And that scent. The one that always sent his blood singing in his veins was close enough to enjoy it.

“G-Gil?”

“I’m here, Nicky.” At last, he thought as he pulled in tighter. No more anger, no more yelling. Gil wasn’t mad anymore. Had Nick finally proven himself? Gentle hands and strong arms held him so unprofessionally, caressing him and protecting his very sanity. So unlike Grissom, but it felt so good. So real.

Truth be told, that was the only thing that had kept him in check on these insane nights. The thought that Grissom… Gil… would never really harm him. Nick burrowed further into the hollow of soft throat before he found his voice again.

“What are you doing here?” Gil didn’t answer, he merely stroked across damp, silken skin. His fingers grazed parts of Nick no one had touched in far too long, and he sighed gently into the dark, damp hair before him.

Nick held tighter, every touch feeling as real and as unreal as his dream. Perhaps he had finally conquered his nightmare? What if this was his resolution? His mind finally coming to be at peace with…pain? Yes, he could feel it. His hand hurt. It hadn’t hurt like this since the last time he nearly took out a door jam on a crime scene run. The Collins case. But this was recent. What the hell was happening…?

“I came to see you.” The voice came out of nowhere to his now perked ears, and yet the familiar, aching feelings weren’t vanishing as they always did when he woke up. He was still being held, being touched. Warm breath ran though his hair, smooth skin beneath his hands, a deep, rhythmic pulse to his ear...

“Gil.” He still sounded so lost, exposed. Gil wrapped him all the tighter, trying to shelter this wonderful man, cursing himself for allowing so much harm to come so close. And it was his own damn fault, he knew that now. If he’d only known… but he hadn’t, not until tonight. Then tonight he would make good. Tonight he would do right by the wondrous man in his arms. He pulled back a moment and Nick sat up on his own, his back protesting violently.

“Ow! Aw, man, I feel like hell.”

“You look like you could use a nice hot shower.” Nick met his eyes with a sheepish grin.

“I honestly don’t think I could stand for that long.”

“Who says you have to?” Nick’s eyebrows made a valiant attempt to climb right off his face. Gil could only smile. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit.”

Once in the bathroom, Gil sat Nick gently on the commode and switched on the water. Thankfully it was a stall; no awkwardly stepping into a tub. He pulled Nick’s shirt over his head and brushed his fingers over the smooth flesh of his shoulders. ‘He needs you.’ The familiar words came to him unbidden, and yet so true. He stepped back as Nick watched him and began on the buttons of his own shirt. Nick’s eyes followed Gil’s fingers as they attacked one button after another. At last the shirt was free, and beneath it was nothing. The soft cotton slipped to the floor, and Nick barely had time to appreciate what had been revealed before Gil began work on his belt. Socks were toed off, and his pants fell to the floor, leaving only a set of simple satin boxers. Nick wouldn’t have pinned Gil for a ‘boxers’ man, but he didn’t care. He tried to stand, but a hand came to his shoulder, gracefully pushing him back down.

“Let me, Nicky.” When he looked up again, the boxers were gone, revealing his boss… his friend... to his gaze. Who knew that under those baggy, frumpy clothes was such a great body? Well-developed legs and arms, a strong chest. Heck, even the slight ‘middle-aged spread’ made him look like the sexiest thing Nick had ever seen. Not to mention a package big enough to be gift-wrapped all by itself. When he finally met Gil’s knowing gaze, he swallowed hard against that beautiful half smile.

“Glad you approve. Now,” he said reaching out, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

The water felt incredible. He hadn’t thought about anything but getting to bed once he’d gotten home, but just the hot water moving over him felt amazing. But more than that the warmth of skin, Gil’s skin, made him feel complete, whole. Like this was where he belonged. Nick leaned back into the hard body, certain he’d died and gone to heaven. This couldn’t be real, reality couldn’t feel this damn good.

Gil’s hand swept over his chest and stomach, slouching away the soap and mingling his touch with the warm water that washed away more than just the feel of sweat and a hellified day. The two together made him feel cleansed, like the dissonance that was his life before this moment would never touch him again. Like he could sleep at last, knowing he was safe. Knowing Gil was there. He reached back and ran his fingers through waves of gunmetal hair, begging that this could somehow last forever.

But he knew it couldn’t, and he had to smile as the water shut off, Gil barely moving from behind him. They worked their way back out of the shower stall, and Nick was more than happy to be toweled off by the boss. Strong fingers massaged his skin just behind the terrycloth, a softened warmth that left trails of sensation across his heated skin.

Then those fingers were bare and touching him, his neck, his chest, his face. Nick’s eyes opened to find Gil watching him, hawk sharp orbs the deepest blue Nick had ever seen. One hand went to his neck, and he didn’t mind being led…

Their lips met gently, warm and soft and so tingling, but Nick couldn’t help pushing, just a little. He pulled Gil closer, and gasped as he met an arousal as up and coming as his own. Gil took advantage, diving into Nick’s mouth with a tender tenacity. Nick answered him softly, tongues sliding against each other with no thought to time. One lazy kiss moved into another, feeding a latent need for contact. Nick’s fingers swept through iron gray hair, holding him just where he was. Not that Gil wanted to be anywhere else, but he was more than willing to be held so. Nicky needed to know he wouldn’t disappear, and he would gladly demonstrate that for him however he needed to be shown.

Nick broke the kiss a moment, his breathing ragged as he pressed that one step more into Gil’s body. “Stay?”

“Of course.” Nick dove in for seconds, and Gil couldn’t help but smile into Nick’s impetuous kiss, nor could he deny the shudder that ran through him at the tiniest whimpers escaping his young lover. Lover? I do like the sound of that…

They broke apart only enough to move back into the bedroom, Nick’s drawn out yawning punctuating every few steps. Gil sat Nick down on the pulled back sheets, and took the younger man’s face in his hands. He swept the stray hairs from his face, fascinated by how Nick’s outward age seemed to change with the length of his hair. With his head shaven, he seemed so much older, so seasoned. Short, he seemed so fresh, so clean and yet still polished enough to rely on. But with this longer, shaggier look, he seemed so innocent, and how Gil had wanted to reach out and run his fingers through the dark mass every time he’d seen it. Which of course he indulged in now, much to the delight of his young investigator. Nicky leaned into the touch, purring gently as each stroke led into the next until Gil was on his knees before him, their faces touching, soft breath flowing between them without pause.

“Promise you’ll be here in the morning?”

“I promise you, Nicky,” Gil said as he laid Nick gently back against the pillows. Gil slid into the bed next to Nick with a grace he didn’t know he had and pulled the younger man in close. Not that Nick needed the help. He was more than happy to curl as tight as he could around all of Gil. Nick’s arms wound around his chest and nearly squeezed the breath out of him, but he didn’t care. If his breath could give Nick’s mind the rest it needed, he would gladly give it.

Before he knew it, a soft, contented snore met his ears. He smiled against jet-black hair. Jesse was right. She’d been right about so many things, but what about herself? Had her ocean truly called her, away from the mountains she’d longed for all her life? Or was he simply not her mountain? Was he not what she truly needed, and upon being given the chance for it, had she realized that she’d been looking the wrong direction? The ever-changing ocean. Had it brought something new to her door, now that she had the chance to look? He didn’t have to wonder what that might be as he drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~

The sun was well into baking his face as his eyes slowly opened. The curtains had been left askew, leaving a tiny slit just big enough for a sunbeam to peak through. And Nick was really not in the mood to get up right then. He pulled the covers over his head, much happier to stay where it was warm. And it was very warm today…

Too warm. Warm against his back. His back? The last time he’d felt that he hadn’t been alone. The hell?! Nick turned over just in time to get an arm flopped over his chest with a soft sigh. A rather hairy arm. A very manly arm. He looked down at his mystery bed partner, and the night flashed before his eyes. Work. Gil freaked. Report. Jesse freaked. Nightmares. Gil again, in his house. Shower. Shower, kisses, long and slow and deep…

The eyes before him opened, and a smile he’d never seen before spread across the older man’s face.

“Good morning.” The hand that touched his face should have startled him, but it didn’t. He was way too far into shock for that.

“Gil?” How could that one little word come out all wrong? When Gil was touching him like this, pulling him in, letting his head fall against that chest as their legs were suddenly a tangled mess.

“Yes, Nicky.”

“It wasn’t a dream?” Gil placed a single, airy kiss atop the younger man’s head, pulling in a lungful of his scent.

“No, Nicky, it wasn’t a dream.” No. It was a nightmare, and so was this. Nick was out of his bed and across the room in a flash, the sweat slowly beading on his face.

“Nick?” No. This was not happening. This was not really Gil. This was some insane hallucination caused by too much daydreaming, not enough liquor, and not nearly enough sex. That’s it. As soon as he actually woke up today, he was going to finally figure out what he had to do to find a rent boy. Or become one. One or the other. Or both. Maybe that was it. He needed one, he needed to be one, just to get over this insane need he had to be touched by someone, anyone-

Something was holding his arm. Nick looked, and again the image he met was hurting him. Well, wasn’t that always the way, he thought miserably.

“Nicky, please, calm down.” Gil tried his best to sound collected, but Nick wasn’t cooperating. Something was wrong. Another nightmare? But why couldn’t he wake up? Gil reached out to Nick’s face to wipe some of the sweat away, but Nick flew from his grasp as if burned. He stumbled a bit as he held the side of his head.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Why do you insist on running away from me?” Open mouth, insert foot. Nice. Gil watched helplessly as Nick turned just enough to shoot him a slicing glance.

“Why are you even here?” Good question, because if looks could kill, he’d be in pieces right about now. Not that he didn’t deserve it after the last few days (weeks, months, Gods years) but now was not the time for that kind of guilt. It was time for honesty, and Nick was more than due his share.

“Because I’m tired of letting you go home alone, and I’m tired of going home to no one every day.”

“How did you know I was even alone?” Nick spat bitterly, pulling just out reach of the warmth he wanted so much. Not that he should be all that surprised. After all, everyone thought he was this pathetic, wide-eyed Texas boy who got lots of tail but never had a stable girlfriend because he had ‘commitment issues’ or some other bullshit. And speaking of girlfriends… “Besides, you’d be leaving someone else alone in the process, wouldn’t you?”

“Nicky, you don’t understand.”

“You’re the one who taught me that the evidence never lies.” And watching you make out with that little hussy was more than enough evidence for me, thank you very much. Ok, that mental image just hurt… “I don’t… want t-to…”

“To get between us?” Something violent crackled across Nick’s mind, a barely checked anger he couldn’t hope to hold back.

“That’s one way to say it.” He rose slowly, coming to his full height as what was left of his energy came to the point of a needle, and cut deeply into the only emotion Nick had any control over any more: rage. “Another way is I don’t want her coming to me thinking I’m trying to steal you from her. Or worse that you’re cheating on her, or hell, that you’re cheating on me with her. I don’t need that kind of mess.”

“I’m not here to create problems for you, Nicky.”

“That’s a laugh. Let me ask you, Gil, was Jesse really passed out when you carried her to that back bedroom, or was it all an act so the two of you could find a quiet place to make out?”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“Yeah well, again, the evidence doesn’t lie.”

“No, it doesn’t, as long as it’s interpreted properly.”

“And what exactly could I misinterpret from seeing the two of you sucking face on a bed in a dark room of Catherine’s house? Seems pretty obvious to me.”

“Silk, silk, silk, Nicky.” The leer Nick shot him easily could have registered on the Richter Scale.

“Do not start that again.” Stone cold, and so were those still captivating eyes.

“In this situation, it fits. What did you see exactly?” Ok, he’d bite. If it got this out and then got Gil out of his house, he’d bite one of the bullets of his gun. Still might before the day was over.

“I saw you sitting on the edge of that bed kissing Jesse. Anything else, or would you like to leave now?”

“I’m not going anywhere until we clear the air on this.”

“At this rate, I’m going to need a gas mask.”

“Will you listen for a minute instead of just attacking me?” Gil clenched his jaw shut. No, he couldn’t get angry. Nick had that right; he didn’t. Gil took one deep breath before going on, knowing full well this could be one of the last things he ever said to Nick. “Yes, I kissed her, I admit that. I kissed her on the forehead, and she was completely passed out. Haven’t you ever done something like that for a sleeping child before?”

“Sure, but not if she was an adult and taken, and not if I was really interested in someone else.” Point.

“What I did was try to ensure that she was ok before I left her to sleep. She was drunk and exhausted and I didn’t want her to wake up not knowing where she was or thinking something untoward had happened.” Nick swept a hand through his hair as an acrid grin made a home beneath his nose.

“Right, you were just trying to help her. It only took that little bitch a month to catch your eye, and I’ve been here how long?”

“First of all, you caught my eye the first moment I saw you.” Gil had barely said three words before Nick started pacing, every muscle Gil could see pulled taught and straining. Gil might say he did a good impression of a caged animal if it didn’t scare him so damn badly.

“And secondly, the only thing that’s happened between ‘that little bitch’ and I is that she showed me that caring about you just might be the most important thing in my life.” Nick halted mid-step and changed direction coming to the wall just in time to give it a half-hearted punch. His head gave a much more resounding thump when it hit.

“She likes you, Gil. A lot. And she’s a lot better for you than I ever could be…” His voice broke a moment, but he refused to let it happen again. He was done crying over this. He wouldn’t withstand doing it again, and he almost succeeded. Almost. “I won’t get between you. I want you two to be happy.”

Deflated. Defeated. A host of d-words came to mind as Nick thumped his head against the wall a second time. Everything from his chest to his knees felt like it was falling apart with every step Gil took toward the hurting figure before him. And it was his fault. He’d laid this burden on those broad shoulders, but they hadn’t held. They were buckling before his very eyes, and it was high time he took back that pain, even if he had to bear it himself for the rest of his life.

“Then it’s only fair to tell you,” he said as he took Nick gently by the arm, “that there’s no ‘us’ to get between.” Lies, all lies. I can’t let him do this to me again. Even as that thought went through his mind, the younger man turned and met Gil’s gaze, his own shining so bright it was blinding. Gil reached up and cupped that beautiful face, ready to catch whatever Nick might throw at him.

“But there is an ‘us’ for you to be a part of, if you’d like, Nicky.” Nick seemed to crumble, and he wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist to keep him on his feet, just in case.

“What are you saying?” Nick held on tight as his voice broke apart completely, his eyes shining like amber sunbeams. Such exposed hope Gil could never shatter. And he would see to it that no one ever dared such a thing again.

“This.” Gil’s voice was so thick and dark and layered Nick could peel it like an onion for days. And then it was gone. The doubt, the pain, everything that Nick had stuffed between himself and the man he loved vanished in the instant their lips touched. Nick’s arms slipped around the older man’s shoulders of their own accord, and it was all he could do not to melt away. All the memories of the night before came to him in an almost violent rush of warm water and feeling. The kiss was gentle and soft, meant more to soothe than arouse. But it managed both.

Gil pulled back, Nick’s head fuzzy over the lack of oxygen. Not that he cared much.

“Nicky-”

“Shut up, Gil.” Gil was obviously startled, which was good. Much better than chatty. “For once in your life, just shut up and kiss me.” The grin across his face ran down to his toes as Gil happily obliged.

~*~*~

They made it into the lab on time, which took quite an effort all things considered. Nick and Gil arrived in separate cars, just to make sure no one suspected. Keeping things low key had been Nick’s preference, but Gil didn’t mind. Whatever he could do to make this work, he would.

They arrived to a very empty lab, and Catherine stood by and looked forlornly through the glass to a cleared off desk in the DNA.

“Hey, where’s Jesse?”

“You didn’t hear?” Catherine leaned lightly against the doorframe, a sad smile across her face. “Jesse quit last night. Sara too, matter of fact.”

“Quit?” Catherine looked like she’d just lost her favorite pet. Gil couldn’t help thinking that perhaps that’s what they all were to her some days, but the thought didn’t pan out well. Catherine cared far too much about people for that, and perhaps that was her only true fault. “Just like that?”

“Yup. Told Ecklie where he could stick this job in front of God and everybody. Apparently, they’re both going back to San Francisco. Said something about missing the ocean.”

“I’ll bet they did,” Grissom said just loud enough for Nick to hear something.

“What’d you say?” Catherine asked, but it was Nick’s question, and Gil could see that clearly.

“Nothing.” Nick gave him the look. The one he hated. The one he always managed to succumb to at the most inopportune moments. “I just said I hope they end up ok.”

“Me, too.” She seemed as at a loss for words as anyone, which was a feat considering it was Catherine. She rose from her perch and moved gently past them. “Well, I have some paperwork to wrap up.”

“Hey, Cat, what’s up?”

“Warrick, hey.” She looked back a moment, but Gil and Nick were both gone. She turned to her lover, and without thinking touched the arm closest to her. “Jesse and Sara left last night.”

“Left? What do you mean they left?”

“This job, this city, this state. They both went back to San Francisco according to rumor.” Warrick did a remarkable impression of fresh fish as Catherine tried not to smile too big.

“Wow. Together?”

“Looks like it.” That was new. Warrick made a mental note to keep up with office gossip better after this. But just then, with the one woman that mattered most so close, he didn’t care much. Not to say he didn’t care at all.

“Hope they do all right.” Catherine sighed heavily, and at that moment all he wanted was to lift that burden from her shoulders, even if it meant he would have to bear it for her. He would bear them all if it would make her happy. That thought was more than a little scary, especially for him, but he didn’t mind so much. And that scared him most of all.

“Honestly? If Sara can find someone to build a life with, I think there’s hope for all of us.” Warrick flashed his signature grin, the one that turned Catherine into a puddle every time. That alongside those amazing eyes could make the Mona Lisa blush.

“You really mean that?”

“Enough to ask you to move in with me.” The words were out before she realized she’d taken a breath. Out and irrevocable and completely honest for the first time in a long time.

“What?!” That turned more than one head, but as the shock in his eyes gave way to more, more joy, more hope, and more love than Catherine could ever hope to be worthy of, she could only smile.

“Relax. We’ll talk after we get off.”

~*~*~

“So what’d you really say?” Doesn’t waste any time, does he? I could learn a few things from him. More than a few, if he was lucky. Gil pulled Nick gently into the currently empty DNA lab and regarded his younger cohort happily.

“I’ll tell you tonight, Nicky. Now, come on. I need to get assignments out, and we need to get shift over with.” So we can go back home.

“Sounds good, love.” Gil couldn’t hold in a smile at the glint in his young lover’s eye.

“Love?” Feelings of marvelous inadequacy bubbled to the surface, just to pop unheeded under the deep amber light of Nick’s gaze. Who was he to question? He had no right. No right to any of this, really, but he wasn’t about to turn it down.

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less.” Gil didn’t bother to look before he swooped in to take those sweet lips in a fierce kiss.

“Then I’ll make sure you never have to.” The two of them walked off side by side, never noticing the two figures standing in the shadows, drinking very, very strong cups of coffee, one sweet, one creamy.

The steam from his cup billowed under his nose as he took a sip. Greg assumed that being the slightly grizzled cop that he was, Jim Brass was used to doing such a thing. Greg usually liked to at least let his coffee cool for a bit before burning the inside of his mouth.

“They look happy, all of them.”

Greg grinned, knowing full well Brass knew this whole thing would work out from the start. “Yeah. Took them long enough.”

“Amen to that.” Another searing sip, but all Greg could do was stare into those razor blade eyes. They were truly the only things that could ever betray emotion in the man, but he’d seen the level of emotion the wondrous man had within him, and he didn’t mind the tough outside. The inside was well worth the effort it took to get there. But that didn’t mean Greg couldn’t still mess with him.

“Think we should tell them about us?” Brass glanced over a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye that made Greg’s heart bounce.

“Nah. I think this apple cart has been upset enough for quite a while.”

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