Title: Red Light Discussion
Author: amazonqueenkate
Pairing: Nick Stokes/Bobby Dawson
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Theme: #19 red
Warnings: frat brothers; strippers; beer; Annie Oakley
Disclaimer: Dude, I can't pay my cable bill. Do you think Bruckheimer has this problem? Nope.
Author's Notes: This one is not heart-wrenching. It's thoughtful, but there is no death. In fact, there is a lot of life. So there you go. :)

It was after two hours ' and at least ten different strippers, if the variety of different shoes were any indication ' that Pete Morton clapped Nick on the shoulder and declared, "Man, it's time we bought you a lap dance".."

The multi-colored lights that flickered across the catwalk and stage of Roxy's Rouge Rumble Room cast odd shadows on Pete's face as he grinned and raised his hand. Nick grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled his hand down, and the rest of the guys ' Tom Wallace, Alex DeWitt, and Eric Franklin, frat brothers all ' laughed raucously. The stage was empty, between sets, but that didn't stop a scantily-clad woman in what could only be described as red lingerie from sidling up to Pete and running her long fingers across his shoulders. "You called?" she purred.

"Yeah, I called," he replied, and cast a dark look at Nick. Nick focused on his beer, and he could feel his cheeks warming. "This here's my good friend Nicky, and he's bein' difficult".."

"Difficult? Really?" She glided from Pete to Nick ' not hard, considering the fact they were sitting next to one another at the table ' and leaned against him. He forced himself to smile politely and meet her dark eyes. "Why, Nicky, what's wrong? Aren't you enjoying our show?"

Alex and Eric hooted and clinked their glasses together.

"I am, miss," he replied, not allowing himself to look away. "My friends are just teasin' you".."

She pouted sweetly over at Pete. "How mean," she sulked playfully, and then snatched away one of their empty pitchers of beer. "You don't deserve me filling this for you".."

Pete swatted her on her barely-covered bottom. "We sure don't, honey," he returned, and watched her appreciatively as she flounced off.

Tom ' man of the hour if ever there was one, and proudly boasting a plastic top hat emblazoned with the words "last day as a free man" ' sent Nick a tense glance from across the table. "What happened to you?" he questioned, pointing his beer glass by way of an accusation. "You sure got a stick up your ass since college".."

"I only know one kinda man who would turn down a lap dance," Eric stated plainly. "Mmm-hmm, and I can see it on Stokes' face, right now. He's holdin' out on us".."

Alex sent Nick a horrified look. "Oh, Nicky, you ain't…"

"You got a girl!" The four men erupted into laughter as Nick took another sip of his beer and tried to keep his cheeks from burning. "Man, Stokey, why didn't you just tell us?" Pete nudged him hard in the shoulder. "And here, I was tryin' to help you score!"

"Woulda pissed the ol' lady off, I reckon," Alex waggled his eyebrows.

Nick snorted and set down his glass. "Something like that," he agreed, smiling slightly.

"Now, you ain't givin' us none of that".." Pete leaned forward, arms on the table, and steepled his fingers. "Stokey, we made sure to have this shin-dig here, in Vegas, so you could play with the big boys. We want details".."

"Details?" He swallowed hard.

"Details," Eric confirmed. "Where you met, how long you been together, if it's serious, what she does ' "

"What she looks like, how she is in the sack, measurements, et cetera," Pete finished.

Nick rolled his eyes. "I don't kiss and tell".."

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Since when?"

The other four guffawed again, and Nick was ready to reply when the waitress in red reappeared with a full pitcher of beer. She set it in front of Pete but cast her eyes ' and bright, even-toothed smile ' directly at Nick. "Is there anything else I can get you boys?"

"An opinion, sugar, if you don't mind".." Pete glanced up at her. "Our friend Nicky ' you know the one ' is tellin' us he has a girl waitin' for him back home".."

She pursed her lips into a theatrically surprised expression. "Is that so?"

"It is. And he's fixin' to keep her a secret. Now, that ain't fair, is it?"

"No, sir".." She batted her eyelashes.

"And I'm of the mind he should tell us everything. What do you think?"

Nick felt his cheeks warm up again as the waitress nodded, settling herself onto Pete's thigh as though she was planning to stay a while. "Oh, everything," she agreed, resting her chin in her hand. "Every. Little. Thing".."

"Glad you think so, honey".." Pete patted her on her leg before turning his attention back to Nick. "There you have it, Stokey. Four men and a stripper can't be wrong".."

For a moment, Nick watched him evenly. Then, he sighed defeat and reached for the pitcher. "What do you want to know?" he asked, refilling his beer.

"You should start with her name".." The stripper was definitely in on it, or at least having fun playing with them. Nick frowned at her. "What?" she questioned oh-so-innocently. "It's important".."

"She's got you there".." Alex grabbed the pitcher.

Nick sighed. "Bobbie".."

"Bobbie?" Eric nudged Tom in the side. "Nick's got himself a Southern girl".."

"Good for you, man," Tom praised. "Show that home-grown solidarity. Where'd you meet her?"

He took another big sip of his beer. "Work".."

"Work?" Pete narrowed his eyes. "It ain't that lanky babe I met the one time?"

Nick snorted. "Sara? No, not Sara".." He paused, and then shrugged. "Actually, I'm seeing a technician at the lab".."

"A technician, eh?" This time, it was Alex with the question. "What lab?"

"Ballistics".."

"Hoo! A regular Annie Oakley!" They all laughed at Pete's joke ' even the stripper ' and Nick forced himself into a tight-lipped smile. "She a quick draw, McGraw?"

The lights flickered back and forth across the table, an odd strobe pattern. Nick shrugged again. "Something like that".."

"How's the rack?" The question came after the guffaws had subsided, and everyone glanced at Eric. He sent them all a defenseless look. "It's a question".."

"And a good one".." The stripper leaned forward, her bosom straining further against the tight red top. "I think it's worth answering".."

Nick sent her a tense glance. "I don't talk that way in front of ladies," he defended.

She smirked at him. "Good thing I'm not a lady, then".."

Pete laughed and jostled her on his leg in such a way that Nick worried she'd fall right out of her top. He sighed. "It's alright," he commented, his cheeks burning as he reached for his drink.

Leaning closer to the stripper, Pete grinned and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "Meanin' it's sad, of course".."

"Must be great in the saddle, then".." Alex nodded appreciatively.

Now, Nick knew his cheeks ' and ears, and probably neck ' were burning, and he fingered the lukewarm glass holding his equally lukewarm beer.

"Thought so!" Tom hooted and the rest of the men broke out into more belly laughs. Nick frowned and pulled another mouthful from his glass, and before he could even swallow, the room darkened and music started playing. Pete cheered and all attention ' well, most attention ' turned to the stage, and whatever new lingerie-clad woman was about to start plying her trade.

The stripper sent Nick a sympathetic look across the table as she climbed off Pete's lap. He whispered something to her and she laughed, pecking him on the cheek before bounding off.

Nick just kept drinking his beer.

By the time they finally left the club, nearly four hours after they'd arrived, the four out-of-town frat buddies were brimming with beer and tripping over themselves to get to the curb. Nick put them in a cab and ' after swearing for the fifteenth time in twenty minutes that, yes, he would definitely be at Tom's wedding the next afternoon ' climbed into his own vehicle.

He drove slowly around the city, taking the long route out of the red light district and down the strip, past the fluorescent casinos and milling tourists, still out and about even at two in the morning. He hit as many stoplights as greens, if not more, and listened to the gentle hum of his truck as it rumbled out of the downtown and back home.

He wasn't surprised, when he climbed the stairs and entered the apartment, to find the lamp on and a note on the table that dinner was in the fridge. Not even the promise of fried chicken and mashed potatoes sounded worth staying up any later, however, so Nick instead turned off the light and wandered back into the bedroom.

The minute he landed on the bed, stripped down to his boxers, there were arms seeking him out and pulling him close.

"How'd it go?"

The familiar accent was broader and deeper when sleep-muddled, and Nick smiled slightly as he readjusted the sheets. "About how well I expected," he replied. He stroked the arm that had weaseled its way across his waist. "Sorry I'm so late".."

"I'll force you to eat the chicken tomorrow".." There was a pause and a slight chuckle. "Or Greg can come over and eat it. He wanted to come over tonight, when he heard you were goin' out".."

Nick snorted. "That's G for you".."

"It is".." A rustling of motion later, Nick found himself staring directly up into familiar eyes. They were neither friendly nor angry, but rather concerned, and he sighed as he settled further back onto the pillows. "Nicky".."

"Bobby".."

Bobby was nonplussed at his reaction. "You okay?" he questioned. "'Cause you didn't want to go, and ' "

"I'm fine".." He smiled and leaned up, capturing Bobby's still-open lips in what he intended to be a simple, point-proving kiss. Instead, it built and grew until it took considerable effort to pull apart.

When they did, Bobby was still looking at him. "You didn't get a lap dance, did you?" he questioned.

Nick laughed and smacked him in the arm. "No," he answered honestly, "I didn't".."