Title: The Return of Old Crazy Hair
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Summary: A surprise visit from Nick's parents clashes with Greg's attempt to recapture his crazy-haired past.

***

Greg Sanders was just about to fall asleep when he felt the body next to him turn restlessly and sigh slightly. He smiled drowsily to himself and rolled over to face Nick Stokes, who was staring at him with unabashed intensity.

"What are you doing?" Greg cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Nick replied. "Just looking."

"Oh? Do you like what you see?"

Nick grinned. "Kind of."

Okay. He was awake now. "Kind of?" he propped himself up on an elbow.

"Aww, don't be insulted, G." The expression on Nick's face was one of evil jocularity.

"Then why don't you tell me what you're thinking, and I'll tell you if I'm insulted or not."

Nick reached across, and stroked Greg's unruly bed-hair. "I was just thinking about your hair."

"My" what?" Greg was starting to wonder if he was really asleep, and deep in a dream-state. "You? Are thinking about hair? My hair?"

"Yes, your hair. I was just remembering what it was like when I first began to fall in love with you. Crazy and spiky. Sometimes I miss it."

"You miss my hair? Nicky, you're weirding me out."

"You're just getting a bit conservative in your old age, G."

Greg's mouth dropped open. "You're looking for a night on the couch, mister." He hadn't been so insulted in his life --- conservative? Coming from the (relatively) straight-laced good-old-boy Texan?

Truth be told, Nick was enjoying riling him. The look of horror on Greg's face was priceless, and if he could be bothered getting out of the warm bed he would have loved a photo of it.

Greg shook his head. "I am a CSI now, I can't get away with what I could in the lab---"

"That's a handy excuse there, Greggo. Do you think that's Catherine's natural color that she wears?"

"Wow" " Greg breathed. "You're being evil. I like it."

"I'm just saying I miss the old hair, is all."

"And what about your mop?" Greg twirled a lock of it around his finger.

"You don't like it?"

"Well, it's better than the moustache" I'll give you that."

"I was thinking of growing it again," Nick's eyes glinted mischievously.

"Then you'll really be on the couch."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"If it's that moustache, I'll do it without hesitation."

Nick clutched his chest, mock-hurt. "I guess love doesn't conquer all."

"Hey, I put up with it for quite a while. Well, longer than I thought I could." Greg kissed him. "Hmm" that feels so much better without the caterpillar in the way."

As Nick began to drift into sleep, he heard Greg ask "Conservative, huh?"

He felt himself smile, but it was the last thing he remembered.




On their shift the next day, they hardly saw each other. Greg was working with Catherine, and Nick had been paired with Sara. Catherine had raised an eyebrow when Greg had entered the break-room, with his hair slicked down and parted on the left.

"Something wrong, Catherine?" he had asked, while a bemused Nick had looked up from the paperwork he was going over with Sara.

Catherine took a sip of her coffee, to disguise her smile. "Nothing, I was just" admiring the hair."

"Do you like it?" Greg waggled his eyebrows. "It's my new conservative style." He raised his voice slightly for Nick's benefit, "Y'know, because I'm so old and stuffy."

Nick grinned into the paperwork, and Sara snorted to herself.

Catherine patted him on the back. "Hate to break it to you, Greg, but old and stuffy are two things you're definitely not."

"See, this is why I like you, Catherine," Greg said happily. "You may be the oldest one in this room, but you are definitely the hippest."

With that, he practically bounded out of the breakroom, leaving an open-mouthed Catherine behind him" and two other CSIs who were trying not to laugh.

"See what I have to put up with?" Nick asked Catherine.

She put her hands up in defeat. "Oh, he is all yours."



"Hey, G, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Nick had just entered the locker room, and was surprised to see Greg lacing his boots and stuffing various items into his backpack.

"Oh, stuff to do," Greg said mysteriously. "You still have an hour left, huh?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh."

"I'll see you at home, then." He gave Nick a quick peck on the cheek.

"You're up to something!" Nick said, his eyes narrowed.

"And you have a suspicious mind!" Greg yelled over his shoulder. "See you later!"

He collided with Sara as she entered. "Watch it, Greg!"

"Love you too!" he snarked.

Without even pausing for breath, she launched into Nick. "Here you are! Come on, Mia's paged me with the results."

Sighing, Nick followed her "“ knowing there was no way now that his shift would be over in an hour.



Greg didn't make it back home until four hours after his shift officially ended. As he inserted his key into the lock he smiled to himself about what he had been up to, and what Nick's reaction would be. Luckily it was their "˜weekend', which meant he could return to normal before they had to report back to work"

The door opened before he had a chance, and a frazzled Nick appeared before him.

"Hey---" he then did a doubletake at Greg's appearance, which would have been comical had the expression on the face before that second not immediately concerned him.

Nick surveyed the man before him. The man who had gone to work with an ironically-worn 1950s hairstyle had come home with newly-cut hair that was dyed a fire-engine red and was sticking out in approximately eleven different directions.

"Oh, G" " he breathed.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked, having now forgotten about his plan to amuse Nick by returning to "˜old Greg' for a couple of days.

An older voice called out from within their apartment. "Who's that at the door, Pancho?"

Pancho. Greg immediately paled, for there was only one person who called Nick by that name.

"Be back in a minute!" Nick yelled back, and closed the door behind him.

"Your father's here?" Greg sagged against the balcony railing, thinking that if gave way beneath him at the moment and sent him falling into the carpark below he would probably be thankful for the escape.

"Both my parents are here." Nick informed him. "They thought they would surprise us."

"Well, are you? I certainly am." Greg groaned.

A small smile tugged at Nick's lips. "In more ways than one. I like your hair."

"Yes, but so not a good way to make an impression on Ma and Pa Stokes."

"They have met you before, G."

"But this is the first time they have when we're living together." He threw a look towards the door. "They're going to come out looking for you any minute now."

Nick reached for his hand. "You think living together makes a difference to them now? So, why don't you come in? You know, this is your apartment as well."

"I still have enough time to get away and redye this hair a nice, conservative brown. You could tell them that it was just a girl guide at the door selling cookies!"

"They would never believe that. Because I would never come back in empty-handed if that were true. Unless you happen to have some boxes in your backpack."

"No, but I do have Twinkies."

Nick laughed. "Of course you would." He stroked Greg's newly-coloured hair. "They've come to see us both, and that means seeing the crazy-haired guy I fell in love with."

Nevertheless, Greg quickly ran his hands over his skull to dull down the spikes a little bit. But his heart was warmed by Nick's confidence and new-found ease with his parents.

It didn't stop him from feeling like a stranger walking into his own home, though.

"Who was it, dear?" Jillian Stokes asked, turning from where she had been conversing with her husband. Catching sight of Greg behind her son, her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Look who I found skulking around out there!" Nick announced jovially, just a tad forced "“ although really only Greg would have noticed, as it was the same aww shucks, everything's fine tone that Nick had adopted during his recovery whenever anybody had tread on what he deemed as unwelcome territory.

Bill and Jillian rose from their chairs. Greg nervously licked his lips. "Mr and Mrs Stokes, hi. It's good to see you again."

Bill reached him first, and shook his hand. Strongly, but also stiffly "“ and with a nod of the head. Jillian was warmer.

"It's under better circumstances this time, at least," she smiled, taking his hand.

Both sets of parental eyes momentarily fell upon his hair, and Greg was starting to feel that his face now wore the same shade of red. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I haven't seen you since" " he trailed off, now realising that three sets of eyes were now upon him. The unmentionable elephant in the room had just been noticed. "" that incident nobody likes to talk about."

Nick smiled at him, and without thinking reached out and rubbed the small of his back lovingly.

Now that it was out in the open, Nick's parents seemed more than happy to talk about it.

"It wasn't the best time for meeting all of Pancho's friends." Bill said, his attention captivated by the series of photographs that littered the bookcases in the living room. Family and friends were captured frozen in time "“ Nick surrounded by his siblings beneath a large Christmas tree, Greg at sixteen with a purple mohawk cuddling the family labrador, Nick and Greg together in Catherine's backyard.

"I wish we had gotten to know you better at the time" but we could tell Nick just really wanted to be left with you." Jillian said so softly that Greg had to strain himself to hear her properly. She moved to sit on the couch, and Nick sat beside her. Greg took the armchair opposite the both of them, but Bill remained staring at the photos. "I just wish, looking back, that we had known on... the actual night. Then you wouldn't have had to stand alone. It must have been awful for you."

"It was awful for everybody." Greg self-consciously cracked his knuckles, and Nick knew it was because he probably had felt them beginning to shake. "I didn't hold a monopoly on pain that night."

"But still," Jillian continued, "it would have been horrible. To watch and work, and not be able to tell anybody."

Greg could feel Nick staring at him, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Nick rested his hand over his mother's. "It's okay, Mom. It's all over now."

Bill put down the photo of Nick and Greg that he had been more carefully examining. "It's not, Pancho. Not for any of us. Not for your mother and I as parents, not for you having gone through it, and not for Greg either. It will always be there for all of us."

A silence fell between them all. The only sound was Bill shifting on his feet as he moved along to the next bookcase and perused its contents.

"Why don't I make some coffee?" Greg offered.

"Greg makes good coffee," Nick said, as if on automatic pilot. "Well, he should, he pays about forty bucks about a pound for it."

As Greg passed Bill, he felt the man size him up momentarily, but he then moved on his own way to join his wife and son on the couch. As Greg prepared the cups, he could hear the three of them conversing in low tones, their heads close together. He wanted to eavesdrop but knew he couldn't. For a moment he could almost see Nick in his natural element, as a Stokes family member, a part of a secret community that nobody could lay a claim to that wasn't part of their blood "“ that no matter how close the Stokes' partners would become to the family, and no matter how welcome they were made, they would never be a true part of it. It made him smile, and it also made him relieved that Nick and his parents were back at that level "“ that Nick's nightmares of excommunication and exile were unfounded, even if things were going to be slightly strange for a while.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee began to fill the apartment, and Greg breathed it in heavily. Bill got to his feet again, and Greg felt a small line of sweat begin on his forehead as he made his way over to the kitchen.

"Smells good," he said, conversationally.

"It always does." Greg began to pull cream and milk out of the fridge.

Bill cleared his throat. "Greg" I may come across as cold and" well, gruff at times."

Greg uncomfortably shut the refrigerator door, and wondered whether he was meant to make some sort of protestation. As he placed the jar of sugar on the tray, he decided not to be false as it seemed that Bill was making an effort with him.

"You can be" kind of scary. Even just talking to you on the phone, sometimes."

"I've heard worse said about me," Bill chuckled. "Usually from my other son-in-laws."

Other "“ that was a hopeful word.

"I can't say that I wasn't" I can't think of the right word to use. "˜Disappointed' comes to mind, but it's not the right word. I have never been disappointed in Pancho. But I can't help but have been concerned."

"You wouldn't be a parent if you weren't," Greg shrugged.

Bill looked at him in the way that Greg had often seen Grissom scrutinise a suspect, although this was in a friendlier way. "In the courtroom every day I am witness to some of the worst aspects of humanity. You boys see it in your line of work as well. It's a hard world, and sometimes it's made harder for you. As a parent you never want your child to have the world made harder for them."

Greg nodded. "I understand."

"But I've seen a difference in Pancho lately, and it's a good thing to see. He's happy, he's more relaxed" " he paused. "" he's in love. And we saw that the night before we left. That's how we knew he was safe to leave."

Greg felt an immediate flush travel up his neck and spread across his cheeks.

"He hadn't looked that way in a long time. I think Jillian and I have you to thank for the change."

Greg met his eyes and held his stance. "We're very happy together. I love him."

Bill smiled, and for the first time Greg saw where Nick got his grin from. "It may surprise you, but I'm glad to hear that."

Greg pulled the coffee pot off the hot plate and placed it on the tray. "After everything that's happened over the past few years, hardly anything surprises me any more."

He glanced over to the couch, where Nick met his gaze and gave him a huge smile. Greg smiled back, realising that this domestic scene had been something Nick had feared could never be possible.

But it was.




Jillian and Bill returned to their hotel later that evening. Their initial meeting with Greg as the partner of their son had been far more successful than anybody had expected. They had stayed for dinner, and made plans to meet up again the next day. Jillian had also brought up the subject of Christmas at the ranch, even though it was still five months away. Without even asking, it was expected that Greg would be coming. When his father had talked about Nick having to teach Greg to ride one of the horses, Nick had squeezed his hand tenderly and Greg knew that Nick was so happy he was about to burst.

They decided to leave the dishes until the morning, and fell back onto the couch exhausted but content.

"You did it, G." Nick pulled him into his chest and stroked his flaming red hair. "You managed to completely charm them into submission."

"Despite the hair?" Greg murmured, a smile in his voice.

"Despite it," Nick agreed. "Did you see Cisco's face when you walked in?"

"I really wanted him to bring it up so I could tell him it was my natural colour." Greg laughed, threading his fingers through Nick's and playing with his hand by lightly thumping it against his chest.

Nick laughed softly. "I can't believe it, Greg. When you first went to make the coffee, it was so surreal. They sat beside me on the sofa, and I have to admit I was freaking out. But it was fine. They said they just wanted to see me, and how I was going, but that they also wanted to see how we were. Mom said as soon as you walked in the door she could see just how well we worked together."

"Really? I was a wreck."

"You didn't show it. Although I did notice a slight trembling of your knees."

Greg swiped him over the ear. "So, Christmas, huh?"

"You" on a ranch."

"I'll be okay. I watched Bonanza re-runs when I was a kid."

"Oh, nothing to worry about then!"

"Do you think your brother and sisters will be as cool as your parents have been?"

Nick's eyes darkened slightly as he remembered decades of ribbing that came from being the youngest sibling, and that was when he had been the "˜normal' member of the family. "I can't guarantee smooth sailing. But hey, I didn't think I could guarantee that with Cisco either."

"We'll be fine."

"Yeah" " Nick said thoughtfully, then broke into a heartfelt grin. "We will be." He kissed Greg's temple, and suppressed a laugh at the haze of red that was filling his vision.

Greg felt his chest shake anyway. "What?"

"Cisco did ask if your hair was always bizarre."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That this was one of the more normal ways your hair had been."

Greg moaned. "I should never have listened to you the other night."

"I didn't think you were going to go Run Lola Run on me."

"That was my inspiration." Greg was happy he had cottoned on to it.

"Duh. I do know you, you know?"

And that was when Greg realised he did know. That their love was truly reciprocal "“ he had always known how much he loved Nick and took notice of his likes and dislikes, but he had never really noticed that Nick did the same with him. It had just been proven, with Nick's casual mention of a film he really didn't have that much interest in but he knew Greg loved. They had moved into bona fide domesticity.

He turned over so that he could face Nick. "I do know. So you don't like the hair?"

Nick rested a hand on his belly. "Truthfully, I prefer you as a blonde. But I like the cut."

"I'll be a blonde come Friday again."

Nick toyed with the red spikes. "Still, we'll have to take some photos to commemorate this event."

"Do you still think I'm stuffy and conservative?"

"No."

"What do you think then?" Greg could feel himself starting to drift away into sleep, he was so comfortable.

"That you're beautiful."

Greg smiled dreamily, his eyes closed. "You too."

Nick watched him fall asleep, and although his legs were becoming uncomfortably numb he didn't shift, as if Greg was a dozing cat he didn't want to disturb. The warmth of Greg's body matched the warmth in his heart, as Nick closed his eyes and acknowledged the truly blissful feeling he was experiencing at the moment as everything in his world seemed to fall into the right place for the first time in ages.

Greg began to snore softly, breaking the peace.

Nick stifled a laugh, stroked sleeping beauty's face tenderly, and turned the television on with the volume low so he could remain there in that happiest of moments.

***

Next story in series Don't Fence Me In.