Title: Reconstructive Evidence
Part of the Evidence Series (CSI)
Part of the Denuo AU (Mag 7)
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: R
PAIRING: Nick/Grissom, Ecklie/Franklin
ARCHIVE: yes
DISCLAIMER: CSI belongs to CBS, Alliance Atlantic, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony E. Zuiker and whoever else claims rights. We don't. Nu-uh! We just play with 'em.
The Denuo universe was created by Lara Bee and myself
Macx's Voice of Warning (aka Authors' Note): English is not our first language; it's German. This is the best we can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize <g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but  you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
SPOILER: slight for Mea Culpa and Compulsion

Nick didn't know why it bugged him, but it did. For weeks now, as long as he had been working on swing shift, he had been thinking over the encounter he had had with Conrad Ecklie, AD, in the evidence room. He had been looking through some evidence when the other man had walked in and they had acted out their roles. Ecklie had asked his incriminating questions about Grissom, Nick had played along, but then something had slipped.

Ecklie had complimented him.

Ecklie had been... too nice.

Sure, there had been no one else present, but why had Ecklie remarked on his outstanding performance? And the expression at the time...

What the heck had been going on?

Nick still didn't understand. For a moment he had looked at their friend, at the ally, at the man who lived with a vampire, who knew everything about them and the paranormal world. And then some.

It had been Ecklie, but a different Ecklie. This man hadn't been the nitpicking bureaucrat everyone loved to hate.

Grissom began to notice his preoccupation as well, but he didn't say anything. He watched him quietly, gave him room, until Nick ran out of patience and steam.

"Gil?"

Blue eyes peered over reading glasses as Grissom looked up from the newspaper. "Yes?"

"You know how Ecklie went to each and every one of us, asking about this and that, all connected to you?"

"Yes."

"It was different with me."

The newspaper was lowered and the glasses seemed to slip further down the nose. "Different how?"

"I don't know and that's what's bugging me! He was nice, talked about a past case, about my solo performance, that I was good... That you never recognized my potential. I mean, that was in character, but not the compliments."

He shot his lover a helpless look.

"And it bothers you?"

"No, not really. Just made me think. He was his asshole self with everyone, including you, and so it isn't something that comes from friendship. Why me?"

Grissom looked at him, silent, thoughtful, and finally took off the glasses. "Maybe you should ask him?"

Nick frowned. "You know something!" he accused him.

A fine smile was the answer. "What makes you think that?"

"Gil Grissom, I've known you long enough to recognize that look. It's not exactly a canary you swallowed, but you know what's going on, right?"

A shrug. "Conrad told me something a few years ago, before he left Las Vegas. You have to ask him."

Nick grimaced. It was like back when Ecklie had told Grissom about his dead lover. Nick had had to go and ask for himself because Grissom had promised Ecklie not to mention it to anyone.

"Will I get an answer?"

"I don't know, Nick," was the honest reply.

"If I do, will I like it?"

Serious blue eyes startled him with their intensity. "That depends. I think you have grown enough to accept the truth, but I'm not sure Conrad has accepted the past enough to freely talk about it."

Nick hated it when Grissom got so confusing.

And he knew he wouldn't get any more out of his lover, so he left it at that.

For now.

* * *

The room was bathed in a blue light coming from the emergency lamps set into the ceiling about four meters above. Thick concrete walls enclosed him, no windows, just one door, and a uniform gray - though right now they were toned in blue. The ceiling sported a ventilation shaft from the air-conditioning system, but otherwise was as smooth as the walls. The only door leading to the outside was an electronically controlled monster made of steel, reinforced and unmovable, except when hitting it with a missile or more.

Nick Stokes let his eyes adjust to the blue light and he looked around.

The room was filled with shelves after shelves, erected in an orderly fashion, the rows numbered with small signs on each row announcing letter-and-number codes. Each shelf was stacked with boxes, ceiling high, all boxes uniform. All of them were sealed by red tape.

He sighed explosively.

Damn.

Of all the places he could have ended up in, it had to be the vault.

He glanced at the door again, but there was no change. It remained closed, the emergency lights remained on, and the soft hum of the air-conditioning system was the only sound at the moment.

"How long do you think they'll take to notice we're down here?" he asked.

The only other person in the room turned away from his silent contemplation of the ceiling. A dark eyebrow quirked upwards.

"Since we don't have a clue as to what happened, it might be a while."

"Looks to me like a power outage of sorts."

Conrad Ecklie shrugged. "Whatever it is, it locked us in here, and the world outside is either trying to break in or is completely ignorant as to our fate."

Nick knew that the latter wasn't completely true. He and Ecklie had signed in and the guard at the front desk had to know. If this was a power outage it meant the guy was equally stuck between the outside world and them. If it was something else, well, they would eventually be found. There were logs. And it wasn't like the air was running out. AC was working.

"So we wait."

Ecklie nodded. "So we wait."

Nick sought out a place next to the door and sank down onto the ground, ready to do so.

He wouldn't actually be here if Warrick hadn't asked him for a favor to check out some evidence from the old case they had been working on. It had been a cold trail that had suddenly turned hot and so they had needed the old evidence to go through the crime scene photos and reconstructions. As it was, he had found Ecklie down here, talking to one of the guards, who looked decidedly unhappy about the Assistant Director's visit. When Nick had walked into the evidence vault, Ecklie had followed, saying something about needing to talk to him.

That had been a minute before the whole thing had gone to emergency lights and the door had shut.

Nick looked at the other man. They were alone, no one to interrupt. It was the chance of a lifetime to ask the question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue for a while now.

As it was, he didn't.

"Hope you're not claustrophobic," Nick remarked, breaking the silence.

Ecklie chuckled. "No, don't worry. I'm not going to freak on you."

"Good to know."

"You?"

"Nope." Nick shot the older man a smile. "Never have been. As a criminalist it isn't really good to be afraid of tight spaces."

Ecklie nodded and let his eyes wander around their temporary prison.

"You can't go and blast us out of here?" Stokes asked after a moment.

He chuckled. "No. I'm afraid to bring down the whole building above. I'm getting better at controlling what I see and not to freak when something jumps out, but actively using my powers is... difficult."

And they lapsed into paranormal talk. Ecklie told him about his training, what it included, where he was power-wise, how hard it was and how much time it consumed. Nick was amazed to hear about the things Nandi taught him, how determined Ecklie was and how dedicated to it.

"I've seen more of her than of Franklin lately," Ecklie sighed, shaking his head. "I know he understands, but it's not satisfying. I know I need to train, still I hate the thought of going from work to the Shaman, then back home and just collapsing into bed."

"It'll get better," Nick said softly. "Surely it will."

A shrug.

Silence fell between them again and Nick glanced at his watch. Two hours. Great. By now someone had to have figured out where they were.

"Conrad?" he broke the silence between them after a while.

"What?"

"I'd like to ask you a question."

Ecklie's brow furrowed, but when Nick didn't get a negative reply, he plunged forward.

"Why were you nice to me?"

Ecklie blinked. "Nice? Why was I nice to you? What are you talking about, Nick?" he asked, confused.

Nick sighed. "When you talked to all of us, just before you split up the team."

"I don't know what you're getting at."

Evasive. Huh. Very.

"You put everyone down, poked and prodded at open wounds, were invasive when it came to personal things. Warrick and his gambling problem, Catherine and her daughter needing her, Sara and her personal stuff..." Nick met the dark eyes head-on, steeling himself. "You were nice only to me. Why?"

"It was a game we were playing," the older man said dismissively. "It was our plan."

Okay, now this was getting stupid. Ecklie was truly trying to distract him.

"I know what it was, Ecklie. We all planned it and it worked. But why were you complimenting me and kicking the others in the worst way?"

Ecklie stared at the floor. "There was no reason," he said levelly after a while.

Right. Nick frowned. Something was wrong.

"I think there was," he said out loud.

"Then you think wrong, Stokes. Aside from Grissom, you were one of the last people I had to talk to to uphold this charade. It was tiring," Ecklie almost snapped. "I slipped."

"No. You didn't."

What the heck was he getting at? Nick wondered faintly. But the image of the open smile, the warm expression in those dark eyes, the friendly way his supposed 'enemy' was projecting, it had had him off balance for a while now. Grissom had told him to ask if he wanted an answer, but he had forgotten to mention that Conrad Ecklie could be one stubborn son of a bitch.

"Nick, drop it."

"Why? What's going on, Conrad?"

Ecklie got up, radiating tension. He shot the younger man a dark look. "Drop it, Stokes," he warned.

Nick got to his feet as well. "What's going on?" he repeated. "Why me? Why not Gil, too? Why hurt everyone but me?!"

"It was a game!" Ecklie snapped back. "I wasn't trying to be a bastard, I had to be, okay?"

"No, not okay! Stop evading me, damnit!"

Because Nick couldn't deal with such vague explanations. Something had been going on back then, something that had briefly peeked out of Conrad Ecklie and then disappeared, shut away.

There was a beeping sound from the door and suddenly, with a hollow click, the bolts unlocked. The door swung open and Nick blinked in surprise at the faces of two security guards and Catherine.

Ecklie didn't wait for anything, he just pushed past and left.

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Wow. I can feel the tension. You two were in here how long?"

Nick sighed and ran a hand over his temporary crew cut. "Probably too long."

"Well, any time alone with Ecklie is probably too long."

He didn't comment on that, just walked out of the evidence vault and into the corridor. Catherine could think what she wanted. He only knew that something had been triggered. He wanted to know; he wanted to find out.

* * *

Nick had gone home, deeply disturbed and very thoughtful. His shift was over, even if he had spent part of it locked in the evidence vault, and Catherine had told him not to pull overtime. Being trapped for hours in a windowless room would rattle anyone, and being trapped there with Ecklie was probably an experience not to be repeated any time soon. Nick hadn't told her that he hadn't minded the Ecklie part, but he had gone home.

Now he was sitting on the porch, looking into the small desert garden behind their house, sipping a beer.

Steps announced the arrival of his partner and Gil took his place beside him, only that he was carrying a bottle of water.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Straight-forward as usual, Nick thought dimly.

"I asked."

"You asked," Grissom echoed.

"Yes. Ecklie. I didn't get an answer. Well, I did in a way, but what answer I got was more than strange."

Grissom's eyebrows rose. "In what way?"

Nick took a sip from his beer, let the cool liquid run down his throat. "I don't know, Gil. He was evasive. He said his behavior was due to stress. I don't believe him."

Grissom was silent, then just nodded.

"You said I should ask. I did. I didn't get an answer. And from what I can tell, he didn't like me asking. Whatever it is... it's something really bad."

"Apparently."

Nick looked at him, eyes narrowing. "And you know."

"I do."

"But you won't tell me."

"No."

"Because it's Ecklie's part to do so."

"Yes."

Nick sighed explosively. "Only he won't tell me a thing, but it really bothers him. It's like an invisible burden and he has it every time he sees me. It's connected to me, right?"

Blue eyes regarded him for a long time, then Grissom just swallowed some water again.

Nick muttered a soft curse and emptied his beer. He hated evasiveness, he hated vague references, and he hated Gil knowing it without telling him - or even giving him a hint.

"Gil, please," he said softly, not actually begging, but wanting to know.

"I can't, Nick. I gave a promise." Grissom sounded apologetic.

"This isn't getting any better!"

"I know."

Angry, brown eyes met very calm blue ones. Finally Nick exhaled slowly, playing with his beer bottle.

"Hate it," he muttered and got up, walking back into the house.
 
 

Grissom remained behind, gazing at his departing lover, aware that he was echoing the sentiment. He hated it, too. Conrad needed to talk to Nick, needed to get this out into the open because by now it was destroying him.

After a long moment he finally rose and followed Nick.

* * *

Franklin had watched his lover come home, walk straight to his home office and shut the door. His eyes fell on a bewildered little cat staring at the closed door. Cleo meowed quizzically, gazing at Franklin from large, yellow eyes.

Uh-oh, went through the vampire's head. Not good. Not good at all. Actually, that was very, very bad.

He waited.

Cleo curled up on the back of the couch chair that gave her a direct line of sight to the hallway, making sure that she saw her human come out the moment he did. Not that sharp cat ears wouldn't hear the slightest move anyway.

The phone rang about an hour into his waiting while Franklin was puttering around the house and he was surprised to find the caller was Grissom. The conversation was rather brief but enlightening, though he still didn't have the background on what was truly going on, except that he now knew that it involved Nick.

About fifteen minutes passed after the phone call before he finally decided that waiting wasn't getting him anywhere and he gently knocked on the door. He got no reply and opened it nevertheless. A cream colored shadow whisked into the room with him.

Conrad was sitting in his chair, staring at the computer screen, one hand on the scroll mouse, doing... whatever.

Really not good, Franklin decided.

"Conrad?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine."

Right... not!

"Want to try that again?"

Angry brown eyes glared at him, then Ecklie turned back to whatever it was he was doing.

"Grissom called."

Shoulders stiffened, but otherwise there was no reaction.

"Looks like you had an interesting day."

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

Ouch, that had to hurt. Ecklie's teeth were close to gnashing.

Cleo sat on the ground, tail twitching, head tilted. She was watching her human.

"Getting trapped in the evidence vault due to a power failure? Well, I'd think it's worth mentioning."

"It isn't."

Franklin had had enough. He closed the distance and forcefully turned the chair around. "Conrad, what's wrong?"

There was a brief moment of utter shocked, then the newly born shaman jumped up and tried to push past him, but Franklin would have none of it. He was the most patient of men, but there was a moment when his patience ran out, and now it had.

"Conrad!"

"It's nothing, okay? It's absolutely nothing!"

"If it has you twisted up like this, it's something! I thought we were partners. I thought we shared, whatever it is..."

Ecklie inhaled deeply, visibly fighting with himself, then slumped. Franklin knew it was a cheap move on his side, but he wanted to know, and Conrad needed to get it off his chest.

"It's not exactly easy," the other man murmured.

"I can see that," the vampire answered quietly. "It's tearing you up inside."

Conrad's eyes darkened even more and he suddenly touched his lover, gently caressing one smooth cheek. "Promise me to listen without interruptions. I'm not sure I can tell it more than once."

Franklin felt his worry double. "Okay..."

Ecklie sat down again and Franklin followed, gazing silently at the man he loved. Cleo chose to sit close by, purring softly, and Conrad automatically reached over to pet and stroke her. And then he started, voice deceptively calm while his pulse and heart were racing, quite audible to vampire senses.

* * *

Franklin had no trouble at all accepting that his lover and life-partner had been looking at other men. Hell, he had been no choir boy either! Franklin himself had slept with others while in the early stages of getting to know Conrad, and back then they hadn't even started out on this complicated venue of a permanent partnership between a then-human and a vampire. After discovering that they were life-partners, that Conrad was the one and only perfect mate for him, Franklin's behavior had changed.

Well before that if one looked hard enough.

He had become a one-man guy. He loved Conrad. With everything.

And that his lover had once lusted after Nick... huh, not so shocking. Franklin thought that the young Mimic was good on the eyes, too. He had never acted on it, like Ecklie, but he had looked. Briefly.

Conrad appeared very much relieved to finally have this off his chest. It must have been sitting heavily.

Closing his eyes, snuggling close to the warm body he had just reassured again that nothing would change, that this was okay, that he accepted it, Franklin allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Conrad had still to accept himself that Franklin found no fault, that it was natural, that he didn't think any less of him. And he would never suspect that his partner might stray. Nick was in a tight relationship with Gil. Nothing could tear them apart.

Franklin sighed a little. He had almost two hundred years of experience and he knew in time things would smooth out once more. But until then he would be there.

*

Dark blond hair lay in soft curls. There were a few lighter strands reflecting the artificial light. The skin was pale, but not a ghastly white. Rare exposure to sun, if at all. Conrad Ecklie smiled. Vampires and sun just didn't mix.

The eyes hidden behind closed lids as the vampire slept were normally a sea gray. They reflected so much life, so much energy, and a lot of love. A love that Ecklie felt himself.

Gazing at the sleeping man, taking the rare chance to study his lover and partner without this fascinating man looking back, he reached out and smoothed the unruly lock of hair falling into the forehead. He let his fingers run through the soft strands and smiled to himself. Franklin made a soft noise and moved a little, but instead of pulling back, Ecklie just continued.

He had slept little this night, waking to his busy thoughts concerning Nicholas Stokes. Nick deserved the truth because he was picking up on Ecklie's strange behavior more and more. He had actually called him out, wanted to know, but unlike the time Conrad had told him about Tom when Nick had asked straight-forward about it, he had evaded the younger man.

Because he feared what was to come.

But he had to face it. He had to... for the sake of their friendship. This was eating him up inside and it didn't get any better. Franklin and Grissom knew, but Nick was on the outside - in a matter that centered around him.

Sighing deeply, Ecklie sat up, drawn out of the warm comfort the mere presence of his lover next to him usually brought.

There was another mumble and gray eyes blinked open. "Thinking again?"

"I never stopped."

The vampire grimaced and rolled onto his back, arms crossed underneath his head. "Found a way out?"

"Nothing I hadn't already known. I have to tell him, Franklin. He deserves the truth."

"Yes," was the quiet reply. "But can you handle it?"

"Me?" Brown eyes widened. "I was more thinking whether Nick can handle it."

Franklin sat up, features serious. "You both have to. You and Nick." He reached out and interlaced their fingers. "It takes a great deal of courage to do what you want to, Conrad."

"I'm scared as hell."

A small smile was the answer to that statement. "I'll be there. Always."

It was a silent promise. Whatever happened, whatever the fallout might be. Franklin would be one hundred percent behind him. It helped, Ecklie thought dimly. But it didn't take the fear away.

He might lose everything they had built in the last years.

* * *

It took him three days to breach the topic and while Nick looked mystified, he accepted the invitation to come over with Grissom to get an explanation. Ecklie didn't know how he survived the day and his stomach was churning, but he was determined to see this through.

Now, in the comfort zone of his own home, he was gazing at the top of the couch table, fingers interlaced, visibly trying to find a way to start this conversation.

"I want you to understand," he finally said, voice quiet and slightly shaky, "that whatever I'm telling you now, it's been in the past, Nick. All of it. Nothing of this is valid today."
 

Nick blinked in confusion. "Uh, okay..." He had no clue.

Sure, he knew it was about the strange behavior of Ecklie's as of late and he knew that the other man wasn't comfortable talking about it, but that was about it.

"I've been wanting to tell you for a while now. Because I trust you. Because we work together. Because I need you to understand." He bit his lower lip. "And because it's unfair for Grissom to bear the knowledge alone."

Nick glanced at his lover who looked as stony as he had ever seen him. But there were little twitches now, a flicker of emotions.

What the heck was going on?

"Years ago I met someone," Ecklie went on. "The moment I saw him, I fell in... lust. Not love. It was never love," Ecklie said levelly, not looking at Nick. "I didn't act on that feeling because I had sworn myself never to let work and my private life mingle. Never. But I was sorely tempted. The man I had seen wasn't working for my team and I thank whatever deity responsible for it. I don't think it could have ended well, and all my control would have been blown to the wind."

Nick frowned. "I've never seen you approach anyone at work. You are control incarnate - aside from Gil." He flashed his lover a little smile.

Ecklie smiled wryly. "You would have then. It was as close to losing my self-control and good intentions as it could be. Still, I managed. It was look, don't touch. Never touching. It was hard, but then our different shifts intervened any further pursuit of the matter, and finally.. you found someone else."

Nick froze.

Time stopped.

Eyes widened, grew impossible large, and his mouth opened in silent protest.

No...

No, he must have misheard.

Looking into the apologetic, dark eyes of the man sitting opposite him, he knew he hadn't.

Conrad Ecklie had... he had...

"Me?" he croaked.

Ecklie nodded jerkily. "Yes, Nick. You."

"Why...?" came the stuttered question.

The brown eyes meeting his own were filled with mixed emotions. "You attracted me. I liked you. I... I was glad you were on the graveyard shift because it was less conflicting, but... there was a definite attraction."

Thousands of things rushed through his head and Nick felt himself starting to tremble.

Fight or flight.

Attack or run.

Muscles quivered, blood was pounding in his ears, tension crept into every fiber of his being...

"Excuse me..." he stammered.

...and he ran.

*

Grissom found his lover outside, leaning against the Tahoe, arms wrapped around his middle, drawing in deep breaths. His back was to the house and he was slightly hunched over. In the darkness of the night he was almost invisible next to the large vehicle.

"Nicky," he murmured.

Nick made a strangled sound and Gil placed a warm hand onto his lover's back.

"Nick..."

"Oh God..." Stokes moaned.

He let the hand glide over the tense muscles until he could pull him close and Nick suddenly leaned against him, eyes screwed shut, breathing hard, almost panting.

"Nick, it's not like you think," Grissom whispered.

More harsh breathing.

"Conrad..."

"I know he isn't after me," Nick managed, trembling. "But nine years ago... he could have... I would... I would have..."

Grissom froze.

"I would've probably been unable to say no," Nick groaned. "Oh gawd..."

"Nick?"

Those doe-brown eyes opened and Grissom inhaled as he saw the misery of the world reflected in there.

"I was vulnerable back then, Gil. I was eager to please. I wanted to work for you, but working in the same department would have been just as good. I would have done whatever to be there, to get the job. If he had offered.. asked... I would have... probably... eventually... said yes."

Grissom felt memories of his lover's history slowly slide to the forefront. Nick had been sexually abused once in his young life, and that had been at the age of nine. The trauma had been with him ever since, but they had worked with it, had found a solid base for their relationship where Nick wouldn't fall into the trap of seeing himself as the submissive who needed to please the other partner.

Nine years ago... he had been a wide-eyed young CSI. Grissom still remembered getting him on his team, seeing the wonder and eagerness, the dedication and need to be good - good for Grissom. Nick had once said it in those words throughout an evaluation years ago: he wanted Grissom to be proud, to be pleased. He wanted his approval.

So if Conrad Ecklie had approached him back then, offered, Nick would have wanted to please.

Oh hell...

He had never seen it from that angle.

Framing the squarish face with his hands, he looked into the turmoiled eyes. "Nick," he murmured. "It's not like that any more. He won't touch you."

"I know."

"He has Franklin. Conrad loves him and won't consider anyone else."

"I know!" Nick repeated, still shaking.

"But...?"

"Knowing it..."

Grissom inhaled deeply, steadying himself. "Yes. I understand. He told me a while ago. Before he left for San Francisco."

Nick was silent for a while. "That was long ago," he said softly.

Grissom stroked over the tense back. "Yes."

"You never said a word."

"He said it was the past. It wasn't relevant."

Nick hesitated, then muttered, "It is now."

"You think?"

Dark eyes glared briefly. "After that confession, yes, I do!"

"You know how much it needed to make Conrad tell you?"

A sigh. "A lot, probably."

"Very much indeed."

"And I ran."

Gil was silent.

"He should know why," Nick murmured thoughtfully.

"It's your decision. This is something very private, something very personal, Nicky."

"He trusted me with this."

"Yes."

Nick pushed away a little, but he didn't step out of the comforting circle of arms. "I'm going back inside."

"You don't have to."

"I am going," he reiterated."

Grissom smiled briefly. "I'm here for you, Nick. All the way."

Nick smiled warmly, thankfully.

*

"Okay," Ecklie murmured, running a shaky hand over his head. "That's about the reaction I had expected, without the fist in my face." He stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen, getting himself a beer.

The alcohol felt good, though he really craved some stronger stuff.

Franklin followed him, gray eyes filled with sympathy, but there was none of the disgust or accusation he had suspected might be a reaction to the words. Then again, they had talked about this before, Franklin knew. Still, having to hear it again, see the object of past lust... Ecklie hadn't been sure about anything. Not at all.

Now the vampire approached him and wordlessly pushed the hand holding the beer bottle aside, claiming a kiss. Ecklie just leaned his head against his lover's as they parted, sighing softly.

"He'll come to accept it," Franklin whispered.

"What if he can't?"

"He's a grown man."

"With issues."

A sandy eyebrow twitched. "Oh?"

"I might not be the world's best psychologist, but I have learned to read people in my job, Franklin. Something happened when I told him and it wasn't just because I had the hots for him such a long time ago." Ecklie placed the beer onto the kitchen counter. "This could get ugly."

"It won't."

"Where are you hiding that crystal ball of yours?" Ecklie asked wryly.

Franklin smiled. "Wouldn't you want to know?"

A soft purring noise alerted the two men to the presence of one very worried looking familiar. Cleo pushed her head against Ecklie's arm and he scratched the cream colored cat. Her purring increased.

*

Nick walked back into the house, feeling like he was entering the lion's den. That feeling vanished when he caught a glimpse of a rather shocked looking Conrad Ecklie. The man was coming out of the kitchen, pale and appearing like he had just gone through the wringer himself, and now froze as he caught sight of Nick entering the living room once more. Grissom was a few steps behind him, Nick knew, and remained there, giving him room, and behind Ecklie he caught a glimpse of Franklin. Both partners were keeping back, allowing their lovers to lead this play.

Cleo sat on the back of the couch chair, large, yellow eyes swiveling between the two main parties, clearly agitated. Her tail twitched back and forth.

Okay, let's get it over with.

"I apologize for my reaction," Nick started, fighting for composure.

His mind was racing, taking in the lean, tanned figure - the man who was so far removed from the Conrad Ecklie he had known until two years ago as could be. This was a man who had left cynicism and sarcasm behind him, who no longer looked out for number one - himself - and who was in a strong, balanced relationship with a man. Unbidden he wondered what might have been had he been transferred to dayshift instead of graveyard, if Ecklie had made a move.

He would have broken.

Nick shuddered and steeled himself.

Ecklie had most likely seen the reaction because he made no move, appeared non-threatening. His voice was calm, low, as he spoke.

"No need to apologize, Nick. I know I dropped a bomb on you. I should apologize. It wasn't my intention to... freak you out."

Nick remained where he was, trying to find the right approach. He had to tell Conrad why he had run, why he had freaked. It wasn't the revelation that this man had wanted him. He was used to women and men looking at him. Grissom had once, early on in their relationship, told him how attractive he was. Nick knew he looked good. He knew he turned heads. Why not Ecklie's too?

"I..." Ecklie shrugged. "I'm not sure why you affect me so much, Nick. I think it got worse ever since I got those shamanic powers. It's like this need to protect you... you and Grissom both. But with you, it's stronger. I can't explain it any other way."

There was almost desperation in the dark voice. Nick looked at the other man and nodded slowly. He had noticed the protectiveness and it had only increased lately. The Eiger case had made it most prominent, had included the whole team. Shamans were watchers, guardians and protectors. Ecklie was no exception.

"There's a reason why. And it's not what you think," Stokes heard himself say.

Ecklie frowned minutely.

"I... you trusted me with what you told me... and... I do trust you in every single way I can think of, Conrad. I know it's in the past, that you respect what Gil and I share."

Ecklie seemed to tense a little, but he didn't move.

"And it's why I want you to know something I've only shared with one person in detail and another in passing."

Nick eyed the couch and walked over, smiling dryly, silently asking the older man to please sit down as well.

And Ecklie did.

Franklin shot Nick a quizzical look, almost asking for permission, and Nick just as silently gave it. He was aware of Gil next to him, and he took a deep breath.

"I was nine," he finally started. "My parents left for a party, my sisters and my only brother were either in college, with friends or going with my parents... and I was home with a baby-sitter. She had brought her boy-friend along..."

*

Ecklie sat in shocked paralysis, aware of Franklin close by, of his gentle touches, of his calm voice telling him to breathe.

"Oh my gawd," he whispered, knowing he had said so over and over again.

Nick had been sexually harassed as a child. By an older boy. He had been nine, afraid, scared to death, and he had...

Oh my god...

It was a trauma that had accompanied him all his life, that had peeked through now and then, making him eager to please, even if it wasn't in a sexual way. He had been young and full of energy when he had arrived, looking up to his criminalistic idol, Gil Grissom, and if Ecklie had approached him, Nick would have... he would have given in.

He knew he would have.

Nick had told him as much.

He would have done what Ecklie had asked, he would have... let him touch him, kiss him, sleep with him...

And it would either have ended with a sexual harassment deal or worse. Either Nick would have risen above the trauma and gone to the AD, telling him about Ecklie, or he would have stayed quiet, suffering in silence because lust wasn't love. Ecklie had never fallen in love.

Grissom had.

Grissom had dealt with Nick's past terror.

He closed his eyes, breathing hard.

Oh shit, what a tangled emotional web...

"Apologizing now would probably be bad timing," he whispered.

Nick smiled slightly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Conrad. I guess you're not the only one who gave me a few more looks, be it men or women... And I know you're not trying to make something out of this attraction."

Ecklie laughed wryly. "Believe me, no."

Franklin gently squeezed one shoulder.

"Still, it makes me feel guilty."

The squeeze was stronger now and he gave his lover a slightly startled look at the attention-drawing gesture.

"I know I shouldn't be the one talking," vampire said calmly, "because this only concerns me as an outsider, like Dr. Grissom. But I have to. You both need to get past this. It's history, guys. It's been almost a decade now and nothing has happened. The truth was told and you need to deal with it, not hang onto the guilt and blame and bad feelings. You're friends, you both are in a deeply loving relationship, and while I understand the issue here... believe me I do... quite well even... you have to let go and move on."

Ecklie felt slightly shocked. Franklin's words hurt, but they also jump-started something inside him. His partner had been used and abused in his early adult life. In his mortal life he had been a drug-addict, a whore, a toy to the ones who paid his price -- which had been just enough money to get him his next fix. He had been beaten and raped and worse...

"In a few decades you're over it," Franklin's voice intruded his thoughts and he felt his eyebrows shoot up.
 
 

Franklin smirked a little as he drew startled looks from the two main parties, namely Conrad and Nick. He perched on the arm of the couch, radiating calmness despite his own memories rising. But he had handled them; he had left them behind.

"I dealt with bad stuff myself, guys. I got over it. It took a while, and I had no help, but I survived. So will you."

He fixed Nick with a hard look.

"You already did."

The younger man nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And it's just that shocking because you like Conrad now. If not for that friendship, you wouldn't have heard these words."

"I know," was the quiet reply.

Nick gazed at his hands, twisting them a little. Grissom was silent, looking at his lover, but also at Ecklie, who was trying to become more or less invisible.

"I know," he repeated. "Like I said... it was more than I expected to hear. It's not something I imagined to be the reason..."

"You said I treated you differently," Conrad suddenly said, voice so very quiet. "Maybe I did. Maybe because of these reason, but also maybe because I was tired of the game. You were one of the last people I had to play this charade with and there was no one there... I think I slipped."

Franklin watched his lover, noticed the intense expression in the brown eyes, and he saw the faint drain of tension from Nick's shoulders. One eyebrow twitched a little and he smiled secretly. Franklin's experience with his lover's powers was limited, mostly due to the reason that Conrad rarely used any magic at home, but he imagined that right now the shaman was doing something to calm the frazzled nerves of the younger man.

Most likely he was.

"It's okay, man," Nick finally replied, smiling a little more. "Really okay."
 
 

It was about an hour later that Grissom and Nick left. Franklin closed the door after them and then turned, looking at the single figure behind him. He didn't need to be a mind-reader or shaman to know that this would take a while for Ecklie to work through.

"Let's go to bed," he only said softly, slipping an arm around Conrad's waist and drawing him along.

There was no resistance at all.

* * *

Grissom watched the slender form of his lover as Nick moved around the house, closing down, locking the doors and pulling down the blinds. The lights were turned on low and the TV had been running in the background for a while now. Grissom had no idea what was really on; he wasn't interested. Ever since coming home, he had been watching Nick.

He knew his lover was chewing on what had been revealed, but not as much as he was chewing on his own memories, on his possible reactions to the advances of a dayshift supervisor nine years ago. Franklin was right that it would pass with time, but right now history had made it into the present again. Nick was dealing with emotions and memories of a nine year old boy who had been molested by his baby-sitter's boy-friend.

There was nothing he could do. He had done all what needed to be done years ago. Things had been dealt with. This situation was simply a copy of back then, with a few new factors.

As Nick turned and looked at him, Gil saw a blatant need in those expressive dark eyes and he smiled a little.

"Ready?" he asked gently.

"Yeah."

Nick walked over to him, hesitating for just a moment, then slipped his arms around his lover's middle, seeking a kiss. Grissom gave it gladly, his tongue prying open the soft lips, encountering Nick's tongue, letting them brush together. Gil's hands stroked over the muscular back, feeling the warmth through the blood red shirt Nick was wearing.

"Need you," Nick whispered against his mouth as they parted.

He framed the squarish jaw, looking into the liquid eyes. What Grissom read there was emotional upset, but not as badly as years ago. It was Nick's way of dealing with things. His younger partner was a very emotional man, wore his heart on his sleeve. It was just Nick.

Thumbs brushed over Nick's slightly stubbled cheeks. Another kiss was placed on Nick's lips, then Grissom silently stepped back. Nick smiled and followed him to the bedroom where Gil took great pleasure in peeling him out of the shirt and the tight jeans that usually drove him crazy. Nick lay back on the bed, responding to each touch, moaning softly as Grissom's fingers ran over hot spots and sensitive areas.

"Love you," Gil whispered, nuzzling against his neck.

Nick's fingers trailed over his shoulders and back. "Love you," he replied huskily. "Gil... please...?"

Grissom let his fingers trail south again, playing with the hard evidence of Nick's arousal, drawing more moans of pleasure, followed by a gasp as he upped the pace a little. The long legs spread more, giving him access and a blatant hint as to what the younger man wanted.

He gave it to him, sliding home in a gentle, smooth move not much later, thriving under the response of the man he loved. Nick's body welcomed him, drew him in, and those dark eyes blazed with emotions he soaked up like a sponge.

Love you, he thought. Always will.

Muscles rippled, the tanned skin slick with sweat, and Grissom couldn't stop himself from thrusting deep, drawing an appreciative moan.

"Gil..."

He was hard pressed not to respond and finally he gave in. It would never last; never.

He wanted to linger. He wanted to draw it out. He wanted to watch it happen.

There was always an end; always too soon.

His groan of completion was echoed by Nick's more vocal exclamation, and Gil sank forward, blanketing the slighter body. He was aware of the muscular arms around him, holding him, of Nick's breathless whispers, and he kissed the sweaty hollow where the neck met the shoulders.

Gil finally rolled off, much to his lover's protest, and reached for the cloth near-by. He cleaned up most of the mess, then decided to get a wet cloth from the bathroom. Nick sighed a little at the loss of contact, but he stretched almost cat-like, looking sated and pleased, as Gil gently cleaned him not much later.

The older man looked into the warm eyes, saw the deep emotions there, and smiled. Nick was utterly relaxed, pleasantly exhausted, and in the mood for after-sex-cuddling, which he could only agree to.

"You okay?" Grissom murmured, running his hands through the short hair, pulling playfully at the longer strands.

"Very." Nick snuggled into his embrace.

"You gonna be okay tomorrow?"

At work, Grissom thought. Seeing Ecklie. Having to interact with him.

"Yeah. I can do this, Gil. It was just... a shock."

"Yes." He massaged his lover's neck, making him sigh.

"You knew all along," Nick said sleepily.

"Yes."

"And Conrad made you promise not to tell."

"Yes."

"I'm glad he decided to tell me."

Gil smiled more. "So am I."

Nick yawned and his eyes slid shut. "We'll be fine," he mumbled and began to doze off.

Grissom continued his gentle petting and stroking, listening to the soft breaths of his lover.

Yes, they would be fine.

Not immediately, but they would be.

* * *

It didn't help that the next case involved a brutally beaten to death kid. Nick took that one hard, and even harder when the truth was revealed. His own brother had killed him over something so minor, so stupid... Nick spent the night after solving the case drinking beer and hanging out in front of the TV.

Grissom knew that whenever something hit Nick hard it was best to give him some room first, then lend an open ear.

His own case had indirectly involved one of Ecklie's old cases and he had seen the Assistant Director shortly after closing it forever. Ecklie had appeared relieved, but his own failure to catch the perp five years ago had weighed on him. Someone else had had to die to finally get the murderer. There was nothing to say and Grissom knew the feeling. He had experienced it before.
 
 

It was right after this case, when everything was settled and the criminalists would be obsolete until the day in court when the evidence had to be presented, that Ecklie took a day off. It was a Friday and he needed a prolonged weekend. Franklin had to work, but that was okay. He had enough to do around the house and he did it.

The doorbell interrupted him right around noon and he straightened from where he had been trying to cut back some of the plants. It was still early enough in the season that midday didn't mean an unbearable heat. Wiping off the sweat from his face with a towel, Conrad walked to the front door and opened it.

The sight that greeted him was... a surprise.

"Nick?"

Stokes smiled at him, that full, dimpled smile. It was almost an automatic reaction to scan the aura of the young man and Ecklie found it looked a lot healthier than the night he had left here, after hearing the truth. Sure, there were signs of recent stress, but considering their work, stress could happen. Especially emotional one.

"Hey. I was just passing by and wondered if you might be in since it's your day off..." Nick trailed off, shrugging.

Passing by? The house was at the other end of Las Vegas, in an area that took about half an hour to reach from the nearest exit off the Strip, and then some. Ecklie had bought the house because of that perfectly remote location in the first place.

"Come on in," Ecklie invited, a little stunned by the visit.

Nick followed him into the house and accepted a soda with a nod. He had to be at work in a few hours, so a beer was out of the question.

"What can I do for you?" Ecklie finally asked.

Nick rubbed a thumb over the condensation on the can. "I just wanted to let you know that nothing has changed," he said quietly. "Nothing at all."

"Uh, good."

Those deep brown eyes held a lot of emotions. "Nothing of this is your fault, Conrad. You didn't know."

"Now I do."

Nick shrugged.

Ecklie checked the aura again and found it still strong.

"I was just about to make myself a sandwich. Want to join me?" he invited.

"Sure. You got honey mustard and ham?"

Conrad smiled. "I should."
 
 

When Nick punched into work that afternoon he felt a lot better than the last few days, and it had nothing to do with solving a case where a child had been killed. That he had to deal with, too. No, it had been the last two hours.

No one was to blame for the events around Ecklie's 'confession'. It was just bad timing and a lot of emotional baggage. He had issues, but he had dealt with them. It had been a bad hiccupp. One time.

At least it was all out in the open now and Nick knew how to handle it. All of this changed nothing as to who Conrad Ecklie was.

Their friend; their ally.

He trusted him. And that would never change.