Title: Mykonos …once more
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2512
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes, John Barrowman and Scott Gill
Warnings: Fluff and REAL people!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments. I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine. I must say that I have broken all my own rules with this fic. I am NOT a fan of using REAL people in fics….for example I would NEVER contemplate writing a fic with George Eads and William Petersen and I’m only using John Barrowman and Scott Gill because the information about ‘them’ as a couple is already in the public domain. I did not intend any disrespect to them in writing this fic. If you are offended by this please don’t read on…..


Gil sat in the open air bar with a good book and a beer, together with a small dish of green olives or, more accurately, a small dish of stones that were once green olives. He’d eaten them all….he loved them…they never tasted better than when eaten in a Greek bar on a Greek island at dusk.

Nick was shopping…he’d seen a silk scarf that he was certain was the most perfect gift he could ever buy for Catherine, the boutique had been closed at the time so now, before dinner, he’d been determined to buy the scarf…..and given that he’d been gone for over half an hour he was probably buying other things as well. Gil was happy to wait, the ambience just about as perfect as it could be.

“You okay there?” The Australian barman asked Gil.

“I wouldn’t mind another dish of olives, please.”

“Coming up.” And off he went.

“Hey, good to hear another American I was beginning to think I was alone on the island.” This American voice had come from slightly behind and to the right of Gil. He twisted around to see who’d spoken to him.

“We do seem be a bit scarce on the ground this year.” Gil replied and twisted further in his seat to see the man.

Gil knew he knew the man; one of those moments when you know someone really well but just can’t place them. For a fleeting moment Gil hoped it wasn’t someone he’d interviewed about a crime. But the young man was fabulously handsome and Gil felt sure he would have remembered a ‘perp’ who looked this good. The young man with whom he sat was also incredibly good looking. Both of these men, in Gil’s humble opinion, were in Nick’s class!

“Been here before then?”

“This is our second time…it seems you must always return. Have you been here before?”

“Scott and I must have been about half a dozen times, what do you think, honey?”

“Seven times I think.” Scott, the ‘honey’, was English.

“You’re not alone then? You here with…...”

“My partner, he’s shopping…it was supposed to be for one present but…..”

“Ahhh, shopping, can’t beat it.”

“Really, now I’ve never seen the attraction of it myself but Nicky makes up for both of us.”

“Gay man….doesn’t like shopping…isn’t that a serious anomaly! Hey, can I get you a drink?”

“No I’m fine, thanks.” Gil replied laughing. The barman had deposited a larger dish of olives this time.

Nick chose that moment to run up the few steps into the bar and throw himself into the chair beside Gil, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek and depositing three small bags on to the table.

“Just got a coupla things, babe…nothing major.” Nick then saw the two other men smiling at him and Gil.

He went to speak and then stopped – he was left with his mouth gaping open – he quickly closed it and gulped.

“Captain Jack? John Barrowman?”

“One and the same, pleased to meet you.” He held his hand out to Nick and Nick rose to take it.

“Stokes…errr Nick Stokes, likewise. This is my….partner…Gil Grissom.” His polite Texan upbringing coming to the fore.

“We’ve met! This is my partner Scott…Gill….coincidence.”

Introductions over they started chatting and Nick recovered his equilibrium fairly quickly – despite a major crush on the ‘Captain’ - he wasn’t going to act the star-struck idiot. Their chat covered just about every subject it could as the men joined together around one table and discussed, among other things and in no particular order, the weather, the island, Greek islands, Greek mythology, Greek architecture, the Guggenheim in Bilbao, the British pantomime tradition, forensic science, entomology, Texas…....

Drinks kept their mouths and throats lubricated and after nearly two hours, Nick suddenly put his hand up to stop all other conversation.

“Food, gentlemen…I need food!”

“Well said Nicky; would you two care to join us?”

A glance between the other men signalled their agreement so they paid their check and the barman promised to look after Nick’s presents until the next day. They then went in search of a taverna. John and Scott recommended a little place right up away from the sea front with delicious homemade food. So they traipsed, somewhat unsteadily, to find ‘Agnes’s’ Kitchen’. It took longer than it should because Nick had to lean on a wall to laugh and recover when told the name….he vividly remembered his and Gil’s night on their deck in Las Vegas…completely ruined by the wailing of Agnes Baltsa.

The tale lost a lot in the telling, and as such, became even funnier; the laughter was contagious and John had to be helped by Scot as Gil helped Nick to walk the last hundred yards to the tiny taverna.

Tiny was the right word - it held eight tables, three inside and five outside in a flower bedecked courtyard. They were lucky to get a table but four people were just paying their check and vacating two tables that could be pushed together. There was a murmur in the corner of the courtyard as a British family recognised John. He chatted to them and signed autographs and returned after a few minutes.

When he’d rejoined the table they ordered a feast of Greek food…all cooked by Agnes….she looked very elderly…helped by her two granddaughters. There was tzatziki, taramousalata, dolmades, Greek salad, stuffed peppers and tomatoes, calamari…just for starters and then for main courses they all had a different dish…did that matter…not at all…because they all shared those dishes as well, so a mousaka, fish souvlaki, kleftedes and stifado were very nearly all finished off by the four men. They left no room for dessert but had coffee and brandies.

John then declared that as it was the witching hour plus thirty, the night was young and that a little dancing would energize and burn a few…..

Gil didn’t really want to, but he could see that Nick’s face lit up at the prospect; but they were on holiday and he wouldn’t disappoint Nick; there was no doubting that John and Scott were wonderful companions so off they went. ‘Beat’ – it sounded more Vegas than Mykonos – was a fancy club with throbbing disco music, colourful cocktails and not much chance at conversation. John and Scott danced and Gil knew, just knew that he’d have to dance with Nick.

They’d only taken a few sips from their drinks when a man started fussing around Nick asking for a dance. Nick wouldn’t dance with him and got rid of him but within two minutes two more men were invading his space. Nick was taking it in good part but Gil knew he wouldn’t dance with anyone else out of loyalty to him. And, as much as he disliked dancing, he’d rather dance with Nick that watch him dance with a stranger.

With that in mind, Gil pulled a shocked Nick onto the dance floor. Now despite the upbeat music, at least Gil could see other couples entwined and swaying to the beat rather than the enthusiastic antics of their new friends. So….Gil held Nick close to him and smiled to himself as Nick attached himself like a limpet and then they….swayed…..Nick had a great sense of rhythm which he applied to the swaying and they were off.

Truth be told, Gil did enjoy it…a little…he really thought the music was too loud but after twenty minutes Nick let him rest up and a few minutes later Scott dragged Nick up and they had an enthusiastic ten minutes while Gil and John recuperated. When Scott returned Nick, Nick didn’t get a chance to rest as John took over the reins. Nick returned fifteen minutes later and fell down on the love seat next to Gil declaring that he wouldn’t be dancing again for at least three, maybe four, minutes!

They finally left the club at nearly four in the morning….and all four were still up and running so decided on a night cap at a bar that John and Scott knew…..they ‘knew’ everywhere…!

They had liqueurs at Max’s bar and again chatted about a whole range of subjects, autopsies, dance routines, Broadway musicals and female stars…..now that was interesting….and then finally gay relationships and more particularly, civil partnerships. John and Scott had undertaken their ‘ceremony’ and although they said there was very little change in their relationship – except John’s weight gain - it was a bond and it did signal to anyone and everyone that they were together and committed, though Scott had said, ’I need to be committed to put up with your antics…’, to a very theatrically shocked John!

When goodbyes had been said and e-mail addresses exchanged the two couples went their separate ways…no time to meet up again as John and Scott left later that day.

Back in their rooms Gil and Nick prepared for bed…though both were quite seriously affected by the alcohol they’d consumed over a period of nine or ten hours. They weren’t rolling drunk but unsteady and tired and while Nick was happy and enthusiastic about the night’s activities, Gil lapsed into a sort of morose stupor…he didn’t usually drink as much or for as long as he had.

But this was a difference between them…Nick was a happy and relaxed drunk and Gil ….was not.

“Don’t y’think that they’re about the nicest guys you ever met….is he handsome, or what, and that Scott…they’re a gorgeous couple, no argument there. And so relaxed about the gay thing, d’y’think it’s because they live in the UK or because they’re on vacation? I mean we’re on vacation here too, and openly gay here, but it’s not like back home is it? I wonder how the PD would react if we were like John…well you wouldn’t be, obviously, because you’re not like that…but you know what I mean. Hey, Scott’s shirt was great wasn’t it…I wonder where he got it, it’s probably designer and cost a fortune….”

Nick hardly stopped for breath and certainly didn’t expect Gil to reply or even enter into the conversation, apparently. He was off again as he undressed somewhat unsteadily and even as he struggled to free himself from his tee he continued to extol the virtues of John and Scott…obviously his ‘new best friends’.

“Aren’t they energetic…all that chatting and drinking and eating and dancing and more drinking…Jeez they make us look dull and boring and old…what d’you think? I’m not showering man…I can manage a pee and a toothbrush….is all.” And off he bounced into the bathroom – closing the door to be able to reach the toilet in their tiny bathroom.

Gil sat on the edge of the bed; he’d removed his shirt and held in it his hands and looked down at it….Nick was humming in the bathroom; so happy. He was thinking about Nick, his Nicky, and how he could hold his own in such company…knowing what they were talking about, using the slang…Gil could get the drift but he felt slow and ponderous in comparison to their mercurial repartee.

‘No fucking fool like an old fool, Gil; it was nice while it lasted but did you really think you would ever hold on to such a beautiful, young, young, young man? It was only a matter of time. You were, are, delusional. He needs to be set free. You need to set him free’.

Nick came bouncing back in the room, still on a high from their energetic evening.

“Bathroom’s free man, come on….I’ll put some lotion on that burned shoulder when you come out….you really should have taken more care….what with you being the responsible……what’s wrong, babe?” Nick stood in front of Gil and he looked at a man with the troubles of the world on his shoulders, let alone a little sunburn.

“You had a really good time tonight, Nick.” It was hardly a question, more of an observation.

“The best…they’re great guys aren’t they…Gil what’s wrong - tell me?”

“Nick you were so alive with them…so happy…I don’t make you that happy…you need a younger man…I’m too old for you, I know it…”

He was stopped in his tracks by a very belligerent Nick. “What the fuck, Gilbert Grissom….what’s got into you now…the drink? You think because I have a GOOD TIME with some other guys it means automatically that you’re too old, too pathetic for me? Is that it? I tell you I FUCKING LOVE YOU…..but you fucking test my patience, man, you really fucking do….”

That was as many ‘fuckings’ as Nick had shouted at him in a long time. “I’m…sorry.”

“You’re always fucking sorry after the event…what d’you really think about me…eh Gil? That I’m some fly by night that’s just waiting to find someone else - OBVIOUSLY someone a great deal younger than you – ‘cause Christ YOU ARE SO OLD. How long have we been together now…is it six years or six months or SIX DAYS?”

“Years…I…I…”

“Can’t fucking speak now, can you, ‘cause young Nicky has bitten back and called you? Well let me tell something Gilbert Grissom. I. LOVE. YOU. And you got one thing dead right - I am jealous of John and Scott and d’you know why? Why I’m jealous?”

Gil looked up at Nick and he looked so contrite that Nick almost laughed….but only ’almost’ because he hadn’t finished yet!

“I’ll tell you why….because they’re married…or whatever they call it…and the moment I get back to fucking Vegas I am going to organise our marriage…whatever. And YOU are going to wear a fucking gold band and tell people that WE. ARE. MARRIED. And if you ever think you’re too fucking old to be with me I swear….I swear… I’ll divorce you - DO YOU HEAR?”

“Was that a proposal, Nicky?”

“I guess.”

“Okay then….do I have to wear white?

“I should make you, just as a penance.”

“Do you ‘fucking’ love me then?”

“Yeah…I do…you OLD fool.”

“I love you too…and the fucking.”

“Yeah, that too…Gil you are a complete…..”

“Idiot?”

“That’ll do…along with moron. You could wear beige…that suits you and I could wear light grey…or the other way round”

“Should we have matching rings?”

“Yeah….with inscriptions inside. John and Scott don’t wear rings do they?”

“No...but I want to wear yours and have you wear mine…can we go to bed now…I’m so tired…all that drink…and food and dancing and keeping up with the ‘gorgeous young people’.”

‘Captain Jack is a great guy, isn’t he?”

“I think I prefer Scott.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“They are both ordinary next to you Nicky…you’re the most beautiful man I've ever seen…and will ever see.”

“Trying to get back in my good graces?”

“Definitely…you scare me when you shout at me.”

“I DO?”

“You do…come on I’ll let you suck me off, as a penance.”

“Okay………..hold on a cotton pickin’ moment here…..MY penance…..you’re not trying that fast one on me…you can do the sucking!”

“Okay….it was worth a try.”

“Yeah…nearly worked too.”

“Maybe next time……”

The End