Title: Perfect
Author: Kalimyre
Pairing: gen
Rating: G
Summary: A missing scene for Still Life, or what happened just after Nick's visitor walked out.

***

Nick was still staring toward the front doors of the lab long after Kelly Gordon's retreating back and swaying blond hair had gone through them and disappeared around the corner. When a hand landed on his shoulder from behind, he spun, arms half-raised, knocking the hand aside roughly with one wrist. Grissom didn't jump, but simply lowered his hand, looking calmly at Nick.

"Oh," Nick said, dropping his arms. "Sorry. Um. You surprised me."

Grissom gave a small nod. "Long shift?"

"No, no, I... shift was fine. I found a tissue sample with some embedded hairs in the trunk of the car, gave it to Hodges. I'm actually, uh..." Nick glanced toward the doors again, and the bench where she'd been sitting. "Still processing," he finished. "I should get back to that."

"Who was your visitor?"

Nick paused and cast a wary look at Grissom, who was still giving him that careful, assessing stare. Grissom would find out, of course, so lying was pointless. But maybe, by the time he did find out, Nick himself would be able to give a calm and rational account of the whole weird, awkward conversation. Maybe he wouldn't feel like he was going to do something stupid, like freak out in the middle of the lab. He'd managed to work so far without any such embarrassing incidents; at least, none that anyone had seen.

"Nick?"

He sighed and gave in to the inevitable. "Kelly Gordon. She just got paroled."

There was no response, and when Nick looked up, Grissom had a scowl like a thundercloud. "Gris?" he asked cautiously.

"And she just walked in here? We do have security in this lab, don't we?" He rounded on the receptionist, who quickly busied herself at her desk and tried to look as if she hadn't been listening.

"She's not a criminal," Nick protested, and then caught himself. "Well, I guess she is, but it's not like she broke out. They did release her."

"She shouldn't be here," Grissom insisted. "If she comes here again I want to be notified immediately," he said to the receptionist, who nodded rapidly, wide-eyed.

"Gris..." Nick said, although he wasn't sure why he was arguing.

"Are you all right?"

Nick tried for an easy grin, but could feel it slipping off his face just as fast as it came. "Sure. She only wanted to talk."

"What did she... no, come with me." He turned, walking down the hall and clearly expecting Nick to follow, so Nick did, trailing uncertainly behind and making a concerted effort to not glance back over his shoulder.

Grissom led them to his office and shut the door, perching on the side of his desk and folding his arms. "What did she say?"

"It really wasn't a big deal," Nick said, but the words sounded weak and uncertain to his own ears. "I guess she wanted to see me. She came to a crime scene earlier, I just couldn't quite be sure..." He trailed off, unwilling to admit his doubts, how he couldn't quite trust his perceptions these days.

"What?" Nick jerked his head up at the sharpness of Gil's voice. "Is she following you?"

"No, no, it's... I mean, why would she do that?"

"Good question," Grissom replied, "and one that I'd certainly like an answer to. What did you two talk about?"

Nick shrugged again, glancing down to see his hands curled into tight fists. He opened them deliberately, taking a deep breath. "She said she'd been paroled a few days ago. She just wanted me to know she'd been thinking about what I said." He saw Grissom's confused look and continued, "I went to visit her a couple weeks after... everything."

Gil's gaze was as sharp as ever, but his voice softened. "Why?"

"I don't know," Nick admitted. "I thought, if I could see her, then... I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I see," Gil said, and something about his tone made Nick think he really did see, that he understood things Nick didn't fully understand himself. "And when you visited her, you said what, exactly?"

"I said..." Nick paused, biting the inside of one cheek ruefully. "I told her not to take it with her. The things that happened, you know." And it sounded ridiculous now, because it was hardly that easy. As if he could just cut the worst day of his life and everything that followed it out of his memory, leave it by the side of the road somewhere and drive away. Don't take it with you, sure. Maybe Kelly was having better luck with that than he was, but he doubted it. Too much about her eyes reminded him of his own.

When he looked up again, Gil was regarding him thoughtfully, his head tilted to one side and his mouth pursed. "Are you sure you're all right, Nicky?"

"Yeah," Nick said, and then cleared his throat. "Yes," and the second time was better, stronger. "Just, you know... not the best memories there."

"Of course," Gil said. Then he surprised Nick by leaning forward and putting a hand on his wrist, squeezing gently. "Would you like to take off early? I can call someone in to finish that car—"

But Nick was shaking his head before Grissom finished speaking. "Nah, man, really. I'm fine. It was just a little weird, seeing her, that's all. I mean, what could I say to her?"

"I'm sure I could think of a few things," Grissom said grimly, but then he smiled and spread his hands. "You wouldn't say them, of course."

Nick blinked uncertainly at that smile, at the fondness it seemed to imply, the indulgence. "Um, well. I should, you know..." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the lab and the evidence still waiting for him.

"All right," Gil said, moving to the door. He paused before opening it, casting Nick a stern look. "I want to hear about it if she approaches you again."

"Okay," Nick said agreeably, wishing Gil would let him out. It was stupid, letting all this bubble up again over a two minute conversation. Stupid to feel claustrophobic in this office, under the weight of Gil's concern. Because he was fine, he was moving on, and this was no big deal. He wasn't taking it with him.

"I'm here if you need anything," Gil said.

Nick mustered another smile. "It's all good, Gris. I'm fine." And as he walked down the hall, carefully not looking at the glass walls to either side, he muttered under his breath, "Just fine. Perfect."

~~~

Fin

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