Title: Repercussions
Author: Kimberley
Pairing: Nick/Gil
Rating: NC-17
Timeframe: The sequel to Revelations which was set post season five.
Warnings: May contain spoilers to the end of season five.
Disclaimer: I own no rights to the characters of CSI and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: As stated above, this is a sequel to my fic Revelations and carries on where that story left off. I realize the way we see these characters and their relationships is as varied as our own life experiences. The choice of pairing in this fic, and the resulting characterizations may not be to everyone's liking, but I hope, should you choose to read, that it provides you with even a small measure of reading enjoyment.

***

Nick awoke to the pleasant sensation of a warm body at his back and couldn't resist a smile. Even after three months, he still marveled at the fact that he and Gil were together. A couple.

Happy.

Taking care not to wake the other man, he turned, shifting his body until he could look into the peaceful, sleeping features of the man he loved. Cheeks tinged pink with sleep, lips slightly parted, lash-fringed lids hiding the expressive blue eyes, a sleeping Gil Grissom was, without a doubt, the most appealing sight Nick had ever laid eyes on.

One of the most, anyway. There was no denying that Gil Grissom was equally attractive when he was aroused. Or when he was thinking, or laughing, or working away at one of his crosswords, or studying a piece of evidence, or drying the damned dishes.

Man, he had it bad.

He was so caught up in his thoughts of the other man that he didn't notice the blue eyes opening until they were trained sleepily on his face.

"Hey," he said with a smile.

"Hey," Gil murmured back, pulling him in for a sweet, sleepy kiss. "What time is it?"

Nick rose up a little to peer over Gil's shoulder at the clock on the bedside table.

"Still an hour until we have to be up," Nick answered, running his hand idly over Gil's chest. "You could go back to sleep."

"Mmm," Gil murmured.

"Or," Nick teased, lowering his head to kiss one bare shoulder. "We could get up now and get out of bed later."

Gil rolled onto his back with a chuckle, keeping his hold on Nick so that the younger man ended up half atop him, their bare chests pressed together. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

Nick couldn't resist a smile as he thought back to their hard, passionate lovemaking the night before. "Mmm, no such thing as enough."

Gil reached up to kiss him again. "As happy as that makes me to hear, you're probably already sore."

"Maybe a little," Nick murmured, laying a trail of soft kisses across Gil's jaw. "But you're not... yet."

"I see," Gil responded, closing his eyes against the pleasurable sensation of Nick's lips on his skin. "What's good for the goose is good for the ..."

"Other goose?" Nick asked, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Under the circumstances, that's as accurate a revision as any," Gil replied on a chuckle.

"So," Nick murmured, continuing to nuzzle Gil's neck. "As the other goose in this little scenario, what do you say?"

Tipping Nick's chin up so that he could look into the deep, brown eyes, Gil smiled. "I say I'm all yours."

Nick returned the smile. "That's just what I like to hear." He leaned in and proceeded to kiss Gil deeply, moaning low in his throat as he felt the other man's body responding favourably to his ministrations. When he finally, reluctantly, pulled his lips from Gil's it was to trail them down his throat to his chest, pausing to tease the nipples there to hardness before moving lower. He laved the slightly soft abdomen with his tongue, painting obscure patterns on the trembling flesh before finally arriving at his destination. Glancing up to capture Gil's heavy-lidded gaze with his own, he slowly took his lover's hardening member into his mouth.

Gil had to fight to keep from closing his eyes at the exquisite pleasure flooding his body, but he wanted to watch Nick's face as he took him in. Those lips as they stretched to accommodate him, those eyes dark with desire yet still radiating the love that flowed so easily between them. The sight filled him with awe each and every time and he'd long ago given up wondering what he'd done in his life to deserve the love of such an incredible man. He'd decided that time spent questioning it could be put to better use enjoying it, savouring it. Cherishing it like he had few other things in his life. Nick loved him and it didn't matter why as long as he never stopped.

"Don't stop," he murmured.

Nick knew by the look in his lover's eyes that he wasn't talking about just the blowjob and he smiled, slowly pulling his mouth from the swollen member and moving back up to blanket Gil's body with his own. "Never," he whispered, looking deep into the blue eyes.

Gil's only response was to pull him into a soul-searing, toe-curling kiss.

"Need you, Gil," Nick breathed once their lips parted.

"Need you, too ... now."

Depositing one final, quick kiss on Gil's swollen lips, Nick pulled back to sit on his heels, one hand stroking Gil's hip. "Roll over, big guy," he encouraged softly.

Gil did as instructed, settling on his stomach, head pillowed on his folded arms.

"Mmm." Nick stretched out to cover the body beneath him once again, chest pressed against his lover's back. "I love you," he whispered.

Gil turned his head to capture a brief kiss. "I love you, too," he replied breathlessly. "Now get on with it, will you, please?"

Nick huffed a short laugh as his hands began stroking from Gil's shoulders down his sides to his waist. "Yes, Sir."

He started slowly, laying a trail of warm kissesacross Gil's shoulder blades before moving down his back pausing occasionally to softly blow on the moist skin.

"Nicky, please," Gil moaned, his body twitching at the sensation.

"Shhh," Nick soothed, his hands skating lightly down his lover's sides. "I'll make it good, I promise."

"You always do," Gil murmured on a sigh.

Nick smiled against the slightly sweaty skin as he placed a kiss on Gil's lower back. From there, he trailed the tip of his tongue slowly down the crevice below, eliciting a low moan of arousal from the man beneath him. He teased for a moment, his tongue skirting the edges of the puckered opening, his warm breath causing it to twitch in anticipation.

"Nicky?"

Taking that as his cue, he pointed his tongue and thrust it into the tight channel, grasping Gil's hips firmly as they bucked up off the bed.

"Nick!"

He continued his ministrations, reveling in the sounds Gil made as he rimmed him to within an inch of mindlessness. Only when he could hold back his own need no longer did he withdraw, placing a gentle kiss on each of the pale cheeks in front of him. "You ready for me?" he whispered hoarsely.

"God, yes," Gil moaned, raising his hips until he was on his knees. "Now, Nicky, please."

He wasted no time stroking on a condom and covering it liberally with lube, having to bite his bottom lip to hold himself in check. Knowing the rim job had only partially prepared his lover, he inserted two slick fingers into the waiting orifice, grinning at Gil's impatient grunt. "Soon," he soothed, stretching the opening further in preparation for his cock. "Real soon."

"Not soon enough," Gil panted.

He held onto his lover's hip with one hand, guiding his dick to the waiting opening with the other. They moaned in unison as the head breached the first ring of muscle, Nick gentling the other man with soothing touches as he adjusted to the intrusion.

"More," Gil breathed after a moment.

Nick braced his hands on Gil's hips and pushed in slowly until he was buried to the hilt. "God," he groaned, taking a moment to savour the heat surrounding him before pulling slowly out and pushing in again. He kept up the slow, long thrusts as long as possible, his moans of pleasure mingling with Gil's and filling the room with the erotic sounds.

"Nicky, I'm so close," Gil gasped after what seemed like an eternity of the blissful torture.

Shifting his position slightly, Nick shortened his stokes, circling his hips to hit Gil's prostrate and eliciting a sharp gasp of approval from his lover. "So good," he whispered breathlessly.

"Yesssss," Gil agreed, raising his hips to meet every thrust, trying to pull his lover deeper into his body.

Nick leaned forward, planting a wet kiss between Gil's shoulder blades as his hips began snapping more erratically, the familiar tingle beginning in the base of his spine. Knowing neither of them would last much longer, he reached beneath Gil and began stroking him in time to his thrusts. Within minutes they were both on the edge, gasping out each other's names as they soared over the brink of pure ecstasy.

Nick pumped out the last of his release and took a moment to rest against the sweaty back, placing a warm, wet kiss on one shoulder before pulling out and rolling to Gil's side. "Wow," he breathed, one hand stroking the other man's back.

Gil rolled onto his side and pulled Nick into an embrace. "Yeah, wow." They spent a few minutes waiting for their breathing and heart rates to return to normal, hands idly stroking warm, satiated skin, before Gil leaned over to kiss him deeply. "That was indescribable."

Nick grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment." Pulling Gil's head down to meet his, he initiated the next kiss, making it slow and leisurely in keeping with the post orgasmic haze they were both basking in. They both groaned as the alarm clock sprang to life, indicating that it was time to get up and begin getting ready for work.

"I find myself hoping for a busy night," Gil said with a small wince as he reached over to turn off the offending object.

"Yeah?" Nick mused absently, kissing Gil's chest as the other man leaned over him.

Gil managed to hit the right button and smiled sheepishly down into his lover's face. "I don't think sitting behind my desk for any length of time is going to be a comfortable experience."

"Maybe for Christmas I'll buy you one of those inflatable donut things," Nick chuckled, slapping one pale ass cheek playfully before rolling out of bed. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his own grimace.

"You were saying?" Gil asked, one eyebrow cocked in a knowing smirk.

"Uh... let's hope for a busy night?"

Gil laughed and followed his lover into the bathroom. "That's what I thought."

*******

They both got their wish as there were several cases already waiting to be assigned by the time their shift started. When Nick got back to the lab a little after midnight, he was pleasantly surprised to find Gil there as well.

"How's it going?" he asked as he entered the break room where Gil was pouring a cup of coffee.

Gil looked up with a small smile. "I just matched fibres from the victim to the suspect's car," he replied. "You?"

Nick shook his head wearily. "Armed robbery turned out to be an inside job from what we can tell. Clerk had the money stashed in the bottom of his gym bag."

Gil frowned. "I thought he was shot."

He shrugged. "Gunshot residue on his hands says it was most likely self-inflicted. Found a gun in the storage room, wiped clean except for a partial. All we need to do is match the bullet and the print and we'll have the whole story. Brass is with the victim, or suspect, as the case may be, getting his wound tended to."

"Not everyone would think of checking the victim's hands for GSR," Gil said admirably. "Good work."

"Yeah, well, his story sounded a little shifty so I took a chance."

"You two look like you could use a donut."

Gil turned at the sound of Greg's voice, his eyes wide.

"What?" Greg asked warily, looking from Gil to Nick and back again. "What'd I say?"

"Nothing, G," Nick said, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stepped toward Greg and took a donut from the full box he carried. "Grissom was just saying earlier how he could really use a donut."

Greg's nervous look turned to a smile as he held the box out to his boss. "You know me, always one step ahead."

Gil shot Nick a weak glare before turning to smile at Greg. "Thank you," he said politely as he took one of the sugary treats from the box. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'll be in my office."

After he'd left, Nick turned to Greg. "Catherine come back with you?"

"Yeah," Greg replied, setting the box on the table. "She's in the DNA lab, I think."

Nick nodded, taking a bite of the chocolate donut he held. "Cool. I'll check in with her there."

As he was rounding the corner in the corridor, Hodges plowed into him, spilling the container he'd been carrying all over Nick's shirt.

"Aw, man," Nick exclaimed in surprise.

"I'm so sorry," Hodges hurried to apologize.

"Tell me that wasn't anything toxic," Nick said, looking down at the reddish stain on the front of his button-down.

"Just my lunch," Hodges explained sheepishly. "Tomato-vegetable broth. I was heading into the break room to nuke it." He used the serviette in his hand to try to blot the liquid from Nick's chest. "I guess I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

"No harm done," Nick sighed, stilling David's attempts to clean his shirt. "I've got a spare in my locker."

"Sorry," Hodges called again as Nick headed off in the direction of the lockers.

Greg, having heard the commotion, was watching the exchange with an amused smile.

"What's going on, here?" Gil asked as he came upon the scene. Hodges was on his knees wiping something off the floor while Greg leaned against the door to the break room watching in obvious amusement.

"Hodges spilled soup all over Nick," Greg informed him, earning a glare from Hodges.

"I see," Gil said, frowning slightly. His next words were directed at the man on the floor. "Let's try to be more careful in the future, shall we?" Without another word, he casually walked away.

Nick had removed the soiled garment and was pulling a clean shirt from his locker when a low whistle had him turning toward the door.

"Hey," he smiled, seeing Warrick standing there. "What's up?"

"Maybe I should be asking you that," Warrick said, moving closer. "All this time I'm saying you need to get out more, but if that love bite's any indication, you're getting more play than I am."

Nick blushed slightly and hurriedly pulled on his shirt.

"So, spill," Warrick said with a grin. "Who is she?"

"Uh...I don't really, I mean, I ..."

The door opened again and Grissom walked in. "Nick, I ..." He spotted Warrick and immediately disguised his concerned look. "I heard Hodges spilled soup on you and I wanted to make sure you weren't burned or anything."

"Naw," Nick replied as he buttoned the clean shirt. "Thankfully, he walked into me before he had a chance to heat it up."

"Oh. Ok. Good." Gil nodded and was about to leave the room when Warrick spoke up, his tone of voice teasing.

"You might want to look at the mark on his shoulder, though."

"Warrick," Nick growled out a warning.

"His shoulder?"

"Looked like teeth marks from the quick glimpse I got," Warrick continued with a grin, oblivious to his friend's glare. "I think Nick here's been holding out on us."

Gil's expression gave nothing away as he looked into the slightly alarmed face of his lover.

"It's nothing," Nick finally managed, colour rising in his cheeks.

Gil effected a small shrug and turned his attention to Warrick. "There you have it. Now if you'll excuse me, I, for one, have work to do."

"Thanks a lot, 'Rick," Nick mumbled once the other man had left the room.

Warrick chuckled low in his throat. "Consider it payback for holding out on your best friend," he said, straddling the bench in front of the row of lockers. "So?"

"So, what?" Nick asked evasively.

"You know what. Who is she? Anyone I know?"

Nick stalled, stuffing the dirty shirt into a bag in his locker. He didn't want to lie to his friend, but he wasn't about to divulge the truth, either.

"Hey, what's up, man?" Warrick asked, frowning slightly, his voice going from teasing to concerned.

"Nothing, I just don't want to talk about it right now."

Warrick slowly got to his feet. "That is a love bite, right?" he asked suspiciously. "You didn't get it from some drunk in a bar brawl or anything like that."

"Huh? No!" He shook his head with a sigh. "No," he said again more quietly. "It's just ... kinda new and kinda ..." He shrugged self-consciously as the words trailed off.

"Damn," Warrick breathed softly. "You mean it's serious."

Nick hesitated a moment and then nodded with a small smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"But you won't tell me who."

He allowed a self-deprecating laugh. "Man, you know my track record better than anyone. I just don't want to jinx it, ya know?"

Warrick seemed to accept that if the easy smile and clap on the shoulder was any indication. "Yeah," he said. "I get it."

Nick smiled his relief and gratitude. "Thanks."

"But you know I'll have to kick your ass if I find out you've told anyone else before me."

"Aside from the two of us, you'll be the first to know."

Warrick nodded in satisfaction and grinned. "Well, all right, then. You need a character reference or anything, you know where to find me."

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, thanks."

Warrick left and Nick stood there for a long moment before closing his locker door with a sigh. Things had been going so well, but they were about to change.

As he left the room to finish out the rest of his shift, he tried to predict whether those changes would be for the better or worse.

*******

As Gil drove home after his shift, he couldn't get his mind off of what had happened in the locker room. He'd left that mark on Nick's shoulder in a moment of passion and it had never occurred to him that anyone from work would ever see it.

It should have, though. At the very least, he should have brought it to Nick's attention. He rolled his eyes as he tried to picture that particular scenario. Oh, by the way, Nicky, I left a nasty hickey on the back of your shoulder, so don't go taking your shirt off where anyone might see it.

Still, it hadn't been fair to leave Nick to be blindsided like that. The mark was on his back, not a place where he'd normally be able to see it. Gil had, of course. While he hadn't left it intentionally, he'd noticed it earlier when they were in the shower. At the time, he'd been too ... what... embarrassed to point it out? He wasn't some horny teenager, after all, even though he often felt like one when he was with Nick. The sex the previous day had been wild and unrestrained, driven by a week of long hours when they hadn't had nearly enough time to spend together. They'd needed it. The passion, the abandon, the reconnection - all of it. He didn't regret it, not for one moment.

But he did regret Warrick seeing the resulting mark on Nick's shoulder. They both knew there'd come a time when the others would know about their relationship, but certain things were meant to remain private even once their friends and coworkers found out. He truly regretted embarrassing Nick the way he had and wanted nothing more than to tell him that, but when their shift had ended and he'd gone looking for the Texan, he'd learned that Nick had already left. Was he angry? Embarrassed? Either way, they needed to talk about it. They needed to discuss who, what and how they were going to tell, especially now that Warrick was aware that Nick had someone in his bed if not his life.

Gil couldn't help a small smile at that. Nick did have someone in his life, someone who loved him beyond measure, and no matter what happened when they told the others, that was never going to change. Whatever the fallout, they'd deal with it together and still be standing side by side when the dust settled.

Feeling marginally better, he turned the corner onto his street, relieved to see Nick's truck parked in the driveway. He parked beside it and made his way to the front door, surprised to find it locked. He used his key and let himself in, already calling out a greeting to his lover.

"Nicky? I ..."

He didn't get any further as he was pulled into the foyer and the door was slammed shut behind him.

"About damn time," Nick breathed, pressing Gil against the closed door and kissing him hard.

"Not that I mind," Gil breathed once the kiss ended, "But what are you doing?"

Nick huffed a small laugh as he nuzzled Gil's neck, nipping at one sensitive earlobe. "If you don't know, then I'm obviously losing my touch." He slid gracefully to his knees and began working on Gil's belt buckle.

"Nicky," Gil moaned, closing his eyes and pressing his head back against the door as his already hardening cock was released from its confines.

Nick only hummed in response, his tongue laving up one side of the turgid shaft and down the other before taking it wholly into his mouth and sucking hard. The actions elicited a pleasurable groan from the other man and he smiled around the mouthful of flesh.

Gil was practically panting when he opened his eyes to look down at the man on his knees in front of him. "Damn, Nicky," he murmured, reaching out to touch the dark hair with both hands.

Nick's gaze flickered upward through his lashes to meet Gil's for a moment before dark lashes closed over the expressive brown eyes and he moaned low in his throat. His head began a steady bobbing up and down, his tongue trailing along the veins on the underside of Gil's dick, twirling around the head at every upstroke. His hands reached back to grab the other man's still clothed ass, pulling him forward so that he could take him even deeper into his throat. After a moment, he felt the telltale quivering in the other man's body and swallowed hard, humming around the hard length filling his mouth.

"Oh, Nick," Gil groaned, his hips thrusting forward as he began to shoot into the back of his lover's throat.

Nick continued to suck, swallowing every drop Gil had to give, only gentling his motions when he was sure there was nothing left. Gently, he laved the softening member with his tongue, kissing the tip almost reverently as he finally allowed it to slip from between his lips.

He rose to his feet, capturing Gil's mouth with his own, sharing his taste.

"Jesus," Gil managed to get out after a moment.

"I've been wanting to do that for hours, now," Nick murmured, nipping at Gil's bottom lip. "Thought that damned shift would never end."

"When I heard you'd left, I thought you were angry."

Nick pulled back a little to frown at the other man. "Why?"

"Because of what happened in the locker room. I'm sorry, Nick. I really am."

A slow smile spread across Nick's features. "I'm not." He leaned in for another kiss. "Do you know how hard it made me?" Another kiss, this one a little more heated. "I was trying to work, but all I could think about was you and the exact moment you left that mark on my back. By the time the shift ended, I was worried that someone would see a lot more than just a mark if I waited around for you."

Gil huffed a laugh. "Well, if this is what you had in mind, I'm just as glad you didn't wait around."

"That's not all I had in mind," Nick replied, pressing his erection into Gil's thigh.

"Is that a fact?" Gil murmured, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of being inside his lover's tight ass.

Nick pulled back to regale him with a mischievous smile. "Only if you're up to it, of course."

Gill kissed him hard. "Trust me, Nicky, by the time I'm finished exacting retribution for your little surprise, I'll be more that up for the challenge."

Nick's eyes glinted with barely controlled lust. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

Gil could only smile as the other man led him toward the bedroom.

*******

They lay together later, basking in the glow of a pleasant post coital haze.

"So, what did you tell Warrick?" Gil finally asked languidly.

Nick turned his head slightly to place a soft kiss on Gil's chest. "Nothing, really. He knows I have someone in my life and that it's serious for me, but he doesn't know who."

Gil tilted Nick's chin up so that he could deposit a gentle kiss on the slightly swollen lips. "It's serious for me, too," he said softly.

Nick smiled and snuggled closer. "We're going to have to tell them sooner or later."

Gil nodded slowly as he idly stroked Nick's arm. "You worried?"

"A little," he answered truthfully.

He rewarded the honesty with a kiss to the top of Nick's head. "About anyone in particular?"

Nick thought about that for a moment. "I think Warrick will be surprised at first, but he's a good friend. If I'm happy, I think he'll be happy for me." He turned his head to look up at Gil. "I think Catherine will feel the same way where you're concerned."

Gil smiled. "I think you're right on both counts."

Nick laid his head back on Gil's chest. "I don't think Greg will bat an eye," he continued. "I don't know Brass as well as you do, but he doesn't strike me as the type to get all bent out of shape about something like this."

"You're right," Gil agreed. "He's not the type." They were silent for a moment. "And Sara?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "It's no secret she has more than a passing interest in you."

"That was a long time ago. I'm sure she's moved on by now."

"I don't know that she has," Nick countered, "or that she intends to, not as long as she still thinks she has a chance."

Gil tipped Nick's head up to look into his eyes. "She doesn't. You know that, right?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I know that." His eyes clouded slightly as he continued. "I just don't want to see her get hurt."

Gil rolled Nick onto his back and gazed down at him. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he asked.

"Not in the last ten... fifteen minutes," Nick replied, just as softly.

"Allow me to correct that oversight." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the waiting lips. "I love you, Nick Stokes, and I don't care who knows it."

Nick smiled and reached up to stroke Gil's cheek gently. "I love you, too." His expression sobered somewhat. "So, does this mean it's time to come clean?"

Gil considered that for a moment. "I don't suggest we go in tonight with the 'hey, everyone, guess what?' approach, but if it comes up again like it did last night, I don't want either of us to have to lie about it."

Nick nodded. "They'll be less likely to make a big deal out of it if we don't."

"Precisely," Gil said, kissing him lightly. "Just so long as you know that this is a big deal for me." He kissed him again. "A very big deal."

"And getting bigger by the moment," Nick teased, shifting his body so that Gil could feel his stirring erection.

"Hmm," Gil murmured sweeping in for another, much longer kiss.

All conversation was forgotten as they proceeded to lose themselves in one another.

*******

The beginning of their next shift found Gil at his desk, going through a backlog of mail and marveling at how it seemed to pile up even faster than the paperwork. Requests for him to lecture, speak, write. The occasional thank you note from someone who'd been exonerated by evidence he'd uncovered, or had had justice served in the case of a loved one. Notices for upcoming conventions and seminars. And that was just the stuff addressed specifically to him. He didn't even want to imagine how much more came in addressed to the Crime Lab at large.

He was nearing the bottom of the pile when he came upon a large, manilla envelope. Nothing unusual in itself except for the stamp in the bottom right hand corner. Photos. Do Not Bend. His curiosity piqued, he carefully slit the end of the envelope and extracted a small stack of 8 x 10 glossy black and white pictures.

Of him.

In the lab parking lot, walking into the police station, leaving his dentist's office. He frowned in confusion as he went through them until one, in particular, caught his attention. It had been taken only a few months ago, he and Nick walking into La Lanterna D'argento. Their first date. The night they'd decided to take a chance on their feelings for one another.

He could only stare at it a moment. Someone knew, or at least thought they did, but who? He carefully looked at the last few photos. All were of him and Nick. Discussing evidence at a crime scene on The Strip, walking to their cars in the lab parking lot. Nothing that couldn't easily be explained away by the fact that they worked together.

Until the last one. Affixed to its surface was a note that read simply Congratulations. Now you have a secret of your own

He read it twice before peeling it off to look at the picture underneath. Like the others, it had been taken in public, in the parking lot of the diner they often went to after shift. It could have been taken on any number of occasions when the entire team had met up there but Gil remembered it clearly. It had been about two weeks ago and they had met the rest of the team there for breakfast. But the moment captured in the photo had been a private one. To the casual observer, it might look like two friends sharing a joke but, to Gil, there was no mistaking the way they were looking at one another, both lust and love in their eyes.

And someone had gone to great pains to capture that particular moment on film.

But who? And why? It wasn't a typical blackmail scenario. There'd been no demand for money in exchange for the original negatives. No promise of silence if he paid. Not that he would. His relationship with Nick wasn't something dirty that had to be hidden away; they were just waiting until the right time to bring it out into the open. And after their conversation that morning, that time was practically upon them. There was nothing to be gained by threatening to expose them.

But maybe the person who'd sent the photos didn't know that.

Or maybe... it wasn't about exposing them at all.

His pulse increased as other, more sinister, motives came to mind. Were the photos more than just a means of telling Gil that their secret was out? Did the person who'd taken them pose a physical threat to him? To Nick?

That last thought spurred him to action and he quickly gathered up the photos and put them in his desk, careful not to add any more fingerprints than he already had. After securely locking the desk drawer, he carefully picked up the envelope and left his office.

He approached the desk in the lobby and quickly got the attention of the short, red-haired woman sitting there. "Judy, do you remember getting this envelope in the mail?"

She looked at it and nodded. "Yes, about four days ago, I think." She reached out to take it but he pulled it just out of reach. Seeing the serious expression he wore, she tilted her head to get a good look at the postmark. "Yes, four days ago, why?"

"You're sure it was this envelope," he tried to clarify.

She nodded again. "I remember because it said it contained photos. The photos that usually go in and out of here are sent in department mailers, not generic envelopes."

"Did anyone else receive a similar package?"

"No," she said, thoughtfully shaking her head. "No, that was the only one."

He breathed a small sigh of relief at that. Just him. Not Nick or even Ecklie. "Thank you, Judy, you've been very helpful." Without further explanation, he returned to his office with the envelope. He placed it carefully on his desk and reached for the phone, dialing a familiar number by heart.

"Jim," he said once the call had been answered. "It's Gil. I think I may need your help."

*******

Twenty minutes later, Jim Brass was sauntering into Gil's office. "Don't tell me. You're dying for the name of my barber."

Gil offered a half-hearted smile as he got up from his desk and closed the door. "Unfortunately, this involves a crime of an entirely different nature."

"Ouch," Jim intoned as he took a seat and waited for Gil to reclaim his. "So, what's up?"

"A possible stalker situation." He paused for a moment. "Someone's been taking pictures of me without my knowledge or consent."

"What?" Jim smirked. "Like in the dressing room at Target?"

"I need someone I can trust, Jim," Gil said, ignoring the comment. "This is a very ... delicate situation."

"Let's see the pictures."

Hesitating only slightly, Gil handed him the photos.

Jim studied them in silence for a moment. "I don't get it," he said, looking at the last image and the note attached. "What secret?"

"Nick," Gil replied quietly. "More precisely, me and Nick."

"What about you and Nick?" Jim asked absently, flipping through the pictures again. "You two screw up on a case or something?"

"No," Gil replied simply.

Jim was frowning a little at the last photo as though trying to put his finger on something. When it finally clicked, his surprised gaze flew up to meet Gil's. "You mean, you and Nick? Nick Stokes? As in you and Nick?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Is this going to be a problem for you?" he asked, regretting the sharp edge to his voice.

"I don't.... no, no of course it's not a problem, but damnit, Gil, you can't just drop something like this on a guy and not expect him to react."

"I'm sorry," Gil offered quietly. "You're right."

They were both silent for a moment before Jim shook his head. "You and Nick. Damn." He looked at Gil again, his head cocked curiously to one side. "How long?"

Grissom sighed. "We've been together about three months now," he answered.

"And it's good?" Jim hurried to amend, "I mean, you're happy?"

He couldn't resist a small smile as he answered. "Yes."

"Damn."

"I think we've already covered that."

"I just don't know what else to say. I mean, I'm happy for you, I guess, if this is what you want; I just didn't see it coming." He shrugged a little. "You, maybe, but Nicky?"

Gil leaned back in his chair, eyeing the other man speculatively. "Is that what surprises you the most? That it's Nick?"

"Well, frankly, yeah. He's so ..." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Hell, I don't know."

"He's a good man, Jim."

The words were spoken with such quiet conviction that Jim could only look at him for a moment. "You're serious about this."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Not just some passing fancy or ..."

"No."

Silence reined again while Jim took a moment to absorb it all. "Then I hope it works out," he finally said.

Gil nodded in appreciation and leaned forward over his desk. "What can we do about the pictures?"

"I'm assuming you checked them for prints."

"I did," Gil nodded. "Nothing on the photos themselves, so I'm doubting any of the prints on the envelope belong to the suspect. It was sent through the mail but it's one of those 'press 'n seals' so there won't be DNA on the flap."

"Return address?"

Gil handed over a slip of paper. "I'm guessing it's probably bogus."

Jim nodded his agreement as he read it. "Probably, but I'll check it out." He looked up again. "Does Nick know?"

"No," Gil admitted somewhat reluctantly, "and I'd like to keep it that way. For now, at least."

Jim frowned. "These pictures concern him. Don't you think you should tell him?"

"The photos were sent to me, specifically," Gil replied. "If this is someone with a grudge, it's against me. I don't want Nick worrying about any of this until we know there's something to worry about."

"But meanwhile, you'll worry about him," Jim surmised.

"He's been through enough without having to deal with this, especially when it could turn out to be nothing." He nodded at the pictures. "So, what can we do?"

Jim sighed and thought for a moment. "You know this business has more than its share of Looky-Loo types. Tourists, residents, doesn't matter. They see a crime scene, out come the cameras, video cams, picture phones."

"A visit to the dentist hardly qualifies as high drama in Vegas."

"And the note suggests it's more personal than just an authority figure fixation," Jim agreed. "But it doesn't exactly constitute a threat."

"So, what are you saying? We wait until it does?"

"I'll run down the address," Jim assured him, "but we don't have much else to go on, here."

Grissom didn't like it, but couldn't deny it was true.

"How far back do the pictures go?"

"About six months from what I can tell."

"Then that would probably rule out anyone you may have pissed off since then. See if you can think of anyone around the time the first photo was taken. Get me a list and let me know if you come up with anything on those prints. In the meantime, I'll run down this address."

"Discreetly."

"I still think you should tell him," Jim sighed. "But I'll leave that up to you. I won't say a word."

"Thanks."

"If this goes any further, you know I won't be able to keep it quiet. We'll have to open a formal investigation."

"I know," Gil nodded. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Jim waved the slip of paper as he left the office. "I'll be in touch."

Gil wearily lowered himself into the chair once his friend had left. Part of him knew Jim was right. Nick deserved to know that someone was watching them. Maybe he was just being selfish, not wanting to see that haunted look in Nick's eyes again. The one he'd seen when they'd realized Crane had been recording his most private moments, the same one he'd seen in the hospital after Nick had been buried alive.

No, he definitely didn't want to see that again and he'd do everything he could to keep it at bay. With any luck, they'd figure out who had sent the pictures and deal with it before Nick had to know.

With that resolve, he headed for the print lab.

***

Gil had been disappointed but not overly surprised when the prints failed to yield any useful information. After running them personally, he headed back to his office to begin compiling the list Jim had asked for.

Deeply involved in the task, he was surprised a couple of hours later by a knock on his door.

"Hey."

He looked up and smiled at the sight of Nick standing in the doorway. "Hey yourself."

"I'm on my way out again, but I thought I'd drop by and make sure we're still on for breakfast."

Gil grimaced a little. They'd made plans to meet at the diner after shift, both knowing that they'd likely end up at either Nick's place or Gil's after that.

Of course, that had been before he'd realized someone was following him around with a camera.

"I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check. I have no idea what time I'll be done here and then I have a few other things I need to do."

"Oh, OK. Sure."

"I'm sorry." And he was. Not just for canceling their breakfast plans, but for not telling Nick the whole truth. Reminding himself that it was in Nick's best interest, he let it go at that.

Nick quickly looked up and down the corridor before smiling and lowering his voice. "Don't be. You can make it up to me another time," he teased with a wink.

With that, he was gone and Gil could only sit there shaking his head slowly. The sultry tone and that lascivious wink had gone straight to his groin, just as Nick had probably hoped it would. Payback, maybe, for the aroused state in which Nick had admittedly spent a great deal of the previous shift.

And he was stuck behind his desk digging up old cases and suspects. To coin a phrase from Jim, Damn.

*******

The next three days only served to add to Gil's frustration. A gang-related multiple homicide had kept them all busy with long hours and a deluge of suspects and possible motives. Not only had he not had time to investigate further into the photos he'd received, but he'd barely seen Nick.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd seen him, but mostly from a distance. Until he knew who was behind the photos, he didn't want to take the chance of being too close, and being head supervisor, he was in a position to make sure that didn't happen. Nick was far from happy, having been assigned to working with the evidence in the lab rather than collecting it at the scene, but Gil could live with that as long as it meant his lover was out of harm's way.

He'd just have to go to extra lengths to make it up to him once it was all over.

"Gil?"

He turned to see Brass heading toward him. "What have you got?"

Jim flipped his note pad open once he reached the spot where Gil was standing. "Turns out one of our dead guys was suspected of a homicide in LA last year."

"Suspected of?"

"He was investigated, but there wasn't enough evidence to take it to trial. Seems all the witnesses came down with a severe case of closed mouth syndrome."

"Who was he suspected of killing?"

"One Tiny Ray Peterson. Hardly a model citizen himself."

"Perhaps Mr. Peterson's associates decided to take the law into their own hands."

"We're checking into it," Brass stated, returning his notebook to his breast pocket. "And speaking of checking into things, that address you gave me is a vacant lot."

"I suspected as much," Gil said with a sigh. "Thanks, anyway."

"If you come up with anything else..."

"I'll let you know," Gil promised.

Brass nodded and headed for his car, leaving Gil to continue combing through the massive crime scene. When his phone rang a few minutes later, he answered it without conscious thought. "Grissom."

"Hey, it's me," Nick's voice came through the line. "Those fibres you guys found on the bodies are tri-lobal."

"Auto upholstery."

"Yeah. At some point, they were all in the same vehicle. One with deep red carpet on the floors or in the trunk."

"There were no vehicles out here," Gil said, looking around anyway.

"Well, it's obvious none of our dead guys drove away in it. Once we find out who did, we might have ourselves a suspect."

"Keep me posted."

"Yeah."

"Nick?"

"Yeah."

He had no idea what he wanted to say, he just hated the distance that seemed to be between them at the moment. The one indicated by the cool tone of his lover's voice rather than geography. "I ... nothing."

Nick was silent for a moment. "I've gotta go."

"Yeah. Yeah, OK." He ended the call but stood holding the phone for a long moment.

"Grissom? You OK?"

He turned to see Sarah watching him with concern. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She didn't seem entirely convinced, but offered a small smile anyway. "I've finished collecting evidence from the burial site," she informed him. "I'm going to take it back to Nick at the lab."

"I'll do it," he said quickly.

"Are you sure?"

He wasn't sure. Not that it was a good idea or that it would help matters in any way. All he was really sure of was that he had to see Nick. He offered a sheepish smile that he didn't really feel. "I need to get out of the sun for a bit."

"Oh," she said, frowning a little. "OK."

He took the evidence from her and headed for his truck.

*******

Nick looked up in surprise as Gil entered the Trace lab.

"Hey."

Gil cringed inwardly at the cool tone of that one word.

"I've got more evidence here that needs to be processed."

Nick looked at him for a moment before nodding at a table at the side of the room. "You can put it with the rest."

"Do you have anything else for me?"

"Vartann is working on tracking down the vehicle those fibres came from. We won't know how much good it will do until we find it."

"They could have been transported out to the remote area where they were killed."

"Possibly. You guys almost done at the scene?"

"We're getting there," he sighed. "It's a lot of area to cover."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't know."

"Nick, I know you'd rather be out there, but we need you here."

"To run hair and fibres like some rookie CSI."

Gil was saved from having to reply as Vartann walked into the lab. "More hair and fibres from a Ford we found abandoned about a mile from the crime scene," he stated, handing the evidence to Nick. "It's registered to someone by the name of Guy Fowler."

"That's not one of the dead men," Grissom mused. "Possibly our suspect."

Nick didn't comment as he prepared the fibres to go under the microscope. Once he'd had a chance to look at them, he straightened, directing his findings to Vartann, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Grissom. "Visible match. I'll have Hodges compare the dyes, but I'm betting the dead men were in that van at some point."

"Once we get DNA on the hairs, we'll know for sure," Vartann replied with a nod. "Thanks, Nick." He nodded at Gil and left the room.

Once they were alone, Nick sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I know this work is important too, I just ..."

"I know," Gil assured him sincerely.

Taking a deep breath, Nick forced a smile more cheerful than he felt. "I think we could both use a break. Want to go across the street and grab a bite?"

Pictures of them in the parking lot and various other public locations immediately sprang to mind. "No." Seeing the look that quickly flashed through Nick's eyes, he softened his tone somewhat. "I'm sorry, but I really need to get back." It sounded lame and he knew it, but he didn't want to take the chance that the man had followed him and was watching the lab. "I'll call you later, OK?"

Nick was watching him thoughtfully, a myriad of emotions flitting through his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he finally settled on before turning his back to Gil.

With a resigned sigh, he turned and left the room. He was passing the desk in the lobby when Judy called out to him. "Mr. Grissom?"

He stopped and turned to face her expectantly. "Yes?"

"That envelope you asked me about the other day," she said, dropping her voice slightly.

"What about it?" he asked, suddenly wary.

"Another one came in today's mail." She handed him an envelope almost identical to the one he'd already received, right down to the stamp in the right hand corner and the phony return address.

"Is everything OK?" Judy asked, concerned by his expression.

He looked up and blinked once before shaking his head slightly. "Fine. And thank you for bringing this to my attention."

She smiled rather uncertainly and he turned to leave, this time in the direction of his office rather than the front door.

Once alone in the office with the door closed, he sat behind his desk and opened the envelope. The pictures he pulled out were similar to the ones he'd already received. Shots of him and Nick taken in public. Standing together discussing a case, walking side by side toward Gil's truck.

His pulse increased slightly when he got to the third photo. It captured Nick's front porch, Gil climbing the steps, Nick framed in the open doorway, a decidedly welcoming look on his handsome features. Gil's coinciding smile was softer, gentler, more intimate than any he'd show on the job and Gil suspected that it would be obvious to all but the most casual of observers that it was filled with true affection, true feeling for the man waiting to greet him.

The last picture was of Nick leaving Gil's house and even with no note, the message was loud and clear.

This person knew where they lived.

He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and raised his head in time to see Jim Brass passing his office. Hurrying into the corridor, he caught the other man on the way to the break room.

"Do you have a minute?"

"This about the case?" Jim asked.

"No." He paused a moment. "I just received more photos."

Jim looked toward the break room with a rather wistful look on his face. "Can I grab a cup of coffee first?" he asked, nodding toward the room. "I feel like it's been a week since I slept."

"Uh, sure," Gil said uncertainly.

Once Jim had poured himself a cup of the hot brew and they'd made their way to his office, Gil got to the heart of the matter. "He knows where we live."

Jim frowned slightly and looked through the pictures on Gil's desk. "If he was following you from one case to another, it's not all that surprising he also followed you home. Or to Nick's."

"I'm not interested in how surprising it is," Gil snapped. "I want it stopped before it goes any further."

"You and me both," Jim replied. "But what, exactly do you suggest we do here, Gil? Bring everyone with a camera in for questioning?"

"Of course not," Grissom grated.

"He could be using a long distance lens. Apart from general direction there's no telling where he might be hiding while he's taking these." He placed the pictures back onto the desk.

"So, we do nothing?" Gil exclaimed incredulously.

"No. We do what we can. I'll track down any evidence that comes our way and you and Nick will keep an eye out for anything that might give us something to go on. Did you make a list of cases you worked on? People who might have an axe to grind?"

Gil reached into his desk and pulled out the unfinished list, glancing at it before handing it to Jim. "I'm sure there are others, but ..."

They both stopped talking as Nick opened the door, stopping in surprise when he saw them. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here." His expression hardened a little as he stepped closer to where the two men sat. "I just wanted to leave these reports on your desk."

"Nick..."

"No time to talk, Grissom," Nick cut him off. "I really need to get back." He'd purposely used Gil's own words, hoping they'd make an impact even though he refused to make eye contact. He quickly left the room with only a nod of acknowledgement in Jim's direction.

"You still haven't told him," Brass surmised.

"No."

He shook his head. "Man, you really had me going with that whole 'it's serious, it's real' thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded flatly.

Jim held up his hands in mock surrender, smirking in a way usually reserved for suspects. "Hey, I didn't get this badge out of a box of popcorn, you know. I'm a detective, and in the last three days, I've observed you interacting with everyone but the man you claim to be serious about." He got to his feet. "But hey, if that's your definition of real, who am I to interfere?" He got as far as the door before patting the pocket where he'd put the list. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

Gil sat staring at the doorway after Jim left, the emotional part of him hurt by his friend's words, his analytical side surprised.

And both sides knowing that Jim Brass was right.

He returned to the Trace Lab and was disappointed to find only Hodges there. "Where's Nick?"

Hodges looked up from what he'd been doing. "He said he was going to get something to eat. He looked... mad or upset or something."

"Did he say where he was going?" Gil asked impatiently.

Hodges shrugged. "No. Didn't even bother to ask if I wanted him to bring back anything."

His phone rang and he breathed a silent hope that it was Nick. "Grissom."

"It's me," Catherine's voice came wearily over the line. "We just found two more bodies. I think this place was a popular dump site for this gang."

Gil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, OK," he finally said flatly. "I'll be right there."

"Any message for Nick?" Hodges asked.

Without much consideration Gil shook his head briefly. "Anything I have to say to Nick, I'll say myself."

*******

Nick returned to the lab a short time later. He hadn't actually eaten anything, but he'd needed to clear his head a little. The problem was, nothing was any clearer by the time he returned. Gil had been like a different man the last few days. Or at least Nick thought he had. He hadn't really seen him enough to be able to tell.

It was different than at other times when they'd been busy, though. He'd never got the impression before that Gil was trying to ... avoid him. Making sure they didn't work together, turning down his invitations to breakfast or even a quick cup of coffee outside the building. They'd never been free to express their feelings at work, but at least they'd had an outlet, their homes, even the occasional moment in public where they could at least say a few words that didn't revolve around forensics. In the last few days, they hadn't even had that and Nick knew that Gil had played a great part in orchestrating those circumstances. Even before the multiple homicide, he'd been starting to pull away.

In fact, since they'd talked about revealing their relationship to the others.

As hard as he'd been trying to deny it, that had to be the reason. Gil had said he was OK with people knowing, but when faced with the actuality of it, he'd chosen to keep his distance instead.

"Hey," Hodges called to him as he entered the lab. "Grissom was here looking for you about half an hour ago. He didn't look very happy."

"That's Grissom's problem, not mine," Nick said flatly.

"Uh..." Hodges hedged uncertainly. "I just thought you should know."

"And now I do."

Without another word, they both resumed their respective tasks. They were still at it a short while later when Ecklie entered the lab.

"I've got the day shift coming in to take over for a while," he said without preamble. "Go home and get some rest; I don't want to see you back here for at least six hours."

"I'm fine," Nick objected. "I just want to get this wrapped up."

"That's not going to happen anytime soon," Ecklie countered. "And whether or not you're fine really isn't the issue here. Everyone's working extra hours on this, but your team is nearing the end of its third straight shift. Departmental policy says you need to clock out. I've already sent replacements out to the scene."

"Fine," Nick sighed, snapping off his gloves in irritation.

Both Hodges and Ecklie watched as he stormed from the lab without another word to either of them.

"Some people just can't handle lab work like others," Hodges offered thoughtfully.

Ecklie shot him an annoyed look. "Just get out of here and leave the psycho-analysis to the professionals, will you?"

Knowing better than to press his luck, Hodges hurried silently from the room.

*******

Nick was in bed but not yet asleep when he heard the doorbell ring. There was no doubt in his mind as to who it was, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to answer it. Finally, heaving a sigh, he rolled out of bed and padded down the hall toward the door.

The sight of a very tired looking Gil dissipated his anger somewhat and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb as he regarded the other man. "I thought Ecklie sent you home to get some sleep."

Gil nodded. "He did, but I thought this was far more important. May I come in?"

Nick stepped aside to allow him entrance, relaxing his posture slightly as he uncrossed his arms to close the door. "What's up?"

"I'm afraid I may have been giving you the wrong impression lately," Gil said reluctantly.

"Lately as in the last few days?" Nick asked, his voice hard. "Or as in the last few months?"

Gil's eyes flashed surprise. "What? No, Nick, that's not what I meant."

"You said you wanted this to work," Nick reminded him, "Now you can't seem to get far enough away from me. Which is it, Gil? Which impression am I supposed to be getting at the moment?"

"I do want this to work," he replied urgently. "The last few days have been ... difficult." He sighed. "Something happened, Nick."

He frowned slightly. "You mean with Warrick?"

Gil looked puzzled for just a moment until he remembered the locker room scene. "No, not that."

"What then?"

He hesitated for a moment, then held out the envelope he'd walked in with. "I've been getting these in the mail."

Nick took the envelope and studied it for a moment, glancing briefly up at Gil before opening it and extracting the photos.

Gil could tell the exact moment realization dawned as the startled brown eyes flew up to meet his.

"Who sent these?" Nick asked.

"I don't know," Gil replied. "There were no prints or DNA. I had Brass check into the return address but it doesn't exist."

Nick's expression went from surprised to concerned. "Brass?"

He hesitated, but never broke eye contact. "Yes. I showed him the pictures and I ... told him about us."

Nick nodded slowly, still trying to process everything he was hearing. "You told him, but you couldn't tell me? This guy knows where we live, Gil!"

"I know, but the fact that the envelopes were addressed to me personally suggests that I'm the one he's targeting," Gil reasoned.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" he exclaimed indignantly.

"I just ... didn't want you to worry."

'That wasn't your choice to make," Nick retorted angrily. "Not when it concerns me." He tossed the photos on the table. "I'm in those pictures, too, Gil."

"Yes, and I'm sorry about that. If I'd known..."

"What?" Nick challenged him to continue. "What if you'd known?"

"I don't know."

"You would have been more careful? We wouldn't have gotten together at all? What?"

"I honestly don't know." Gil hated that he couldn't tell him that they would have gotten together anyway, but he knew himself. He knew he cared too much for Nick to knowingly put him in harms way.

"Well, let me tell you what I know," Nick continued angrily. "I know that I would rather deal with some psycho with a camera than think you'd changed your mind about us. I know that I'm capable of making my own decisions. And I know that if something affects you, it affects me, whether you want it to or not."

"I think that's exactly what Jim was trying to tell me," Gil sighed regretfully. "And you're both right. I'm sorry, Nick. More than I can tell you."

"For what? Not trusting me? Or for making me believe you did?"

"It wasn't a matter of trust..."

"That's a load of crap," Nick cut him off, still angry. "Admit it, Grissom, you didn't think I could handle it."

"There's a difference between not thinking you can and not wanting you to have to," Gil grated. "I've seen, first hand, what you can handle, Nick. Do you really believe I'd think you incapable of dealing with something so insignificant in comparison?"

Nick glared at him for a moment before looking away.

"It wasn't a lack of faith in you," Gil reiterated, his tone softening. "It was a matter of care and concern for you."

His anger had nowhere to go in the face of that and Nick could only sigh and run a hand raggedly through his hair. "I love you," he finally said quietly. "But I want the whole deal, Gil. You can't wrap me in cotton when things get tough and only let me out once the coast is clear. We can't live that way. I can't live that way."

"I know, but after Nigel Crane..."

"This isn't Crane," Nick cut him off gently. "And even if it was, I wouldn't need you to protect me. I'd want you to be there for me, the way I want to be there for you." He paused for a moment. "We have to be equals in this, Gil. That's the only way it's ever going to work."

"You're right," Gil agreed with a sigh. "I realize I screwed up."

"Yeah, you did," Nick agreed with a slightly amused smile. "And you probably will again. We both will." His expression sobered somewhat as he stood looking into Gil's eyes. "The question is, are you willing to keep working at it until we get it right?"

Gil closed the distance between them and pulled Nick into a tight embrace. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "I want it all. With you, Nicky, only with you."

Nick returned the embrace and they stood there for a long moment in each other's arms before he pulled back slightly to look into Gil's face. "So, what do we do about this guy?"

Gil sighed. "I don't know. At this point, we have no way of knowing who it is or why they're doing it aside from the fact that they seem intent on letting me know they've discovered my big secret."

Nick thought about that for a moment. "Maybe it's time it stopped being a big secret."

"Maybe."

"We already decided we were going to tell the team, anyway. And until we know what this person is up to, it might not hurt to have a few extra sets of eyes watching your back."

"Our backs."

"No more locking me up in the lab?" Nick asked, only half teasing.

Gil leaned in and kissed him softly, letting it linger. "I promise," he whispered.

Nick nodded once. "Ok, then. We'll talk to the others first chance we get, yeah?"

"Yeah." Gil paused a moment. "And no matter what happens or how anyone reacts, it won't change what we have."

"Not a chance," Nick assured him before pulling him into another, deeper kiss. When they parted, he smiled sympathetically into the tired, blue eyes. "You're exhausted. Come on."

Gil allowed himself to be led by the hand to the bedroom. Once there, they both stripped down in silence and climbed beneath the covers, Gil taking the younger man in his arms.

"I want to make love to you so badly," he whispered, regret trimming his voice.

Nick turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on his lover's chest. "Sleep now. We'll have plenty of time for everything else later."

Gil smiled ruefully. God, how he hoped that was true. Tightening his embrace as much as comfortably possible, he kissed the top of the dark head and settled in for a few hours of much needed rest.

*******

Nick awoke to a pleasantly warm sensation. "Mmm," he murmured, opening his eyes just enough to see Gil smiling softly at him. He shifted slightly, opening his legs a little to allow the other man's hand more room. "That's nice."

Gil's smile broadened as he continued to stroke his lover's semi-erect cock. "It's about to get much nicer," he whispered, lowering his head to take Nick's mouth in a long, deep kiss. "I love you."

"Yeah?" Nick teased gently, eyes twinkling.

Raising himself a little to lean over the prone body of his lover, he stroked his cheek with one finger, searching the brown eyes before drawing the other man into a deep, thorough kiss. From there, he trailed his lips down the column of golden skin at Nick's throat, nipping softly at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

Nick moaned quietly, closing his eyes at the sensations the man was eliciting with his ministrations. Soft, warm lips moved from his shoulder down to his chest, slowly making their way toward one rosy nipple where they gently suckled it to a hard peak before moving on to lavish the same attention on the other.

Allowing Nick's soft whimpers to encourage him, Gil continued making love to the smooth skin with his mouth. His tongue tracked a path down the Texan's flat stomach to his navel, slowly circling the perimeter before dipping into the shallow hole. He felt Nick's muscles ripple beneath his touch and decided it was time to move on.

Continuing his downward journey, he buried his nose in the dark curls and inhaled deeply, wanting to draw his lover's intoxicating scent into his very soul.

There was something incredibly intimate about that particular act and Nick couldn't suppress a small whimper as his desire escalated to new heights. "Gil," he breathed on a gasp.

Blue eyes flitted briefly to meet brown before lowering once again to revel in the sight of the younger man's cock, already hard and leaking, a display rivaling anything Gil had ever seen in its beauty.

Wanting to pay it proper homage, he started at the base and worked his way toward the head, covering every inch of heated skin with soft, gentle kisses.

"You're killing me here," Nick panted. "Please, Gil."

Gil smiled slightly, but refused to abandon his task until he reached the glistening, red tip. Pursing his lips, he blew softly on the head, delighting in the shiver that ran through his lover's body as warm breath met the escaping drops of moisture. When his tongue reached out to lap the clear beads from the crown, Nick's back arched in a wave of pleasure.

"Gil, please," the writhing man gasped again. "I can't..."

Before he had a chance to finish the thought, Gil's mouth opened to engulf him fully. His lips stroked along the hard length while his tongue danced provocatively around the head causing Nick's hips to buck in response. Using both hands to hold the younger man still, Gil intensified his efforts, alternating between sucking the head and stroking the solid length until Nick's pleas dissolved into incoherent moans of pure need.

Releasing the hard shaft from his mouth, he reached over to get the lube and condom from the night stand. Gil proceeded to prepare them both, Nick's hands following every movement as they rested lightly on his wrists. Through it all, their eyes never left those of each other, the silent exchange conveying what words could not.

After rolling the condom onto his aching dick and coating it with lube, Gil pressed one slick finger slowly into his lover's waiting hole. Nick's light grasp on his wrist only added to the eroticism of the moment and he broke eye contact with his partner briefly to watch the shared motion. When he raised his gaze once again to meet his lover's, the depth of feeling he saw in the darkened pools of brown caused his breath to catch in his throat. He found himself hoping that Nick, too, was seeing something as he gazed into his own blue depths. The almost shy smile that suddenly graced the Texan's face was his answer and he couldn't help offering one of his own in response.

Once he'd prepared his lover sufficiently, he withdrew his fingers and slowly raised the younger man's legs to rest on his shoulders. Leaning forward, he captured the waiting lips with his own in a slow, deep kiss before pulling back to look down into the flushed face. Slowly, he positioned his cock at the waiting hole and began to press inward, watching the changes in his lover's expression as he was slowly filled. Once he was fully embedded, he leaned in for another kiss before beginning to withdraw at the same maddeningly slow pace.

"More," Nick gasped. "I need more."

Gil was struggling with his own control as the tight muscle gripped the head of his aching dick. "So good," he breathed between clenched teeth. Part of him wanted to dive deep into his lover, to pound into the willing flesh until they were both insensate, but another, bigger part wanted it to last. Calling on every ounce of willpower he possessed, he kept the pace slow as he pushed once again into the warm body beneath him.

Feeling a sudden need for even more connection between them, he reached for the hands fisted tightly in the comforter and took them in his. Nick's fingers twined around his, grasping tightly and Gil squeezed in response as he slowly withdrew his cock until just the head remained inside. Nick's grasp on his hands lessened, then tightened again as he pushed just as slowly back in.

"Gil," he gasped, his head thrashing, his fingers clenching around their mates. "Gil, I can't..."

Gil ceased his movements, leaving his cock embedded to the hilt, and pulled his partner up by the arms until he was on his knees, straddling the other man's thighs. Freeing his hands, Gil wrapped strong arms around his lover, stroking his back in soothing circles. "It's okay," he whispered. "Breathe deep. Relax."

Nick clung to him, his face buried in the crook of his lover's neck while he struggled for control. He could feel the hard shaft buried deep within him and clenched his ass reflexively causing them both to moan.

Gil moved his hands to grasp the lean hips and bent his head to kiss one sweat-slicked shoulder. "Ready?" he asked.

Nick took a deep breath and nodded, straightening to look into the passion-filled blue eyes. Bracing his hands on the other man's shoulders, he nodded again. "Yeah."

Gil kissed him gently, then tightened his hold on his lover's hips, raising him with the aid of the other man's strong thighs. Holding him there briefly, he then pulled him back down, his cock reaching new depths inside the pliant body.

Nick could only groan and throw his head back, his fingers digging into the flesh of his lover's shoulders. Again, he felt himself being lifted, felt the man's rock-hard shaft graze the sensitive nub inside and then he was teetering on the brink, in limbo as Gil held him steady for what seemed like long agonizing minutes before pulling him back down and filling him once again.

"Oh, God," he moaned as the torturously slow pace continued.

Gil felt his own need building and could tell by Nick's ragged breathing that he, too, was close to the edge. His choices were clear. He could increase the pace, thrusting into the warm depths until they both screamed out in much-needed relief, or he could stretch it out - make it last until they were both mindless with need.

Making a conscious decision, he gripped Nick's hips tighter and held him in place, his own movements stilling.

"Gil," the younger man whimpered. "God, I was so close."

"I know," Gil rasped, his own desire making speech difficult. "Not yet, okay? Stay with me, Nicky."

Nick's breath hitched in his throat. "Yeah... yeah, OK," was all he could manage.

Gil stroked his back with one hand while the other held firmly to the lean hip. He alternated between planting light kisses on his lover's flushed face and whispering soft words of encouragement into his ear. When they'd both managed to retreat a safe distance from the point of no return, he started all over again.

He used his hands to coax Nick up and down his throbbing cock, thrusting his hips to meet each downward movement of the body atop him. Occasionally, he'd allow one hand to stray across the smooth chest of the other man, fingertips raking over the sensitive, dusky nubs there until Nick began to whimper helplessly beneath the onslaught. Each time they reached the brink, he'd stop, giving them each a chance to catch their breath and revel in the incredible feelings building within them before beginning the slow, tortuous journey once again.

Time after time, Gil brought them both to the edge, then stilled all movement, whispering sweet words of comfort in his lover's ear and brushing his lips tenderly over the fevered flesh.

Nick had never experienced anything so painfully pleasurable in his entire life. Over and over he approached the ultimate pinnacle of desire, only to be coaxed slowly back by Gil's soft voice and tender touches. He was no longer aware of anything but the man he clung so desperately to, the man who was determined to wring every drop of feeling from him and then replace it with more love and emotion than he thought his soul could contain. When they moved, it was intense and utter pleasure, and when they were still, it was bliss in its purest form, their hearts reaching out to one another, loving, promising, claiming.

"So ..." Nick gasped, straining against the physical need for release. "So ...good, ...Gil."

The wonder in that husky drawl sent a renewed wave of ardor through the other man and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "Nicky," he ground out through clenched teeth. He wrapped his arms tightly around the solid form of the other man and pulled him close, ensuring that every movement caused Nick's weeping shaft to rub between their sweat-slicked bodies. He thrust his hips upward, grinding and twisting just enough to stroke the other man's prostate over and over.

"Gil!" Nick sobbed, clinging tightly to his partner, his arms wrapped around the other man's neck while tears escaped his closed eyes.

Gil felt the younger man's seed spurting between them and it was all that was needed to send him soaring over the edge, holding his lover close to him while wave after wave of sheer ecstasy crashed over their joined bodies and filled their equally entwined hearts even as his own release filled the condom.

For long moments they stayed that way, clutching one another as though to let go would mean to let go of life itself. Gradually, breathing began to slow and shudders turned to the sweet tremors of satisfaction. Gil kissed the younger man's shoulder gently. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Nick huffed a tired laugh. "More than OK," he breathed. Carefully, he pulled himself off of Gil's lap and stretched out at his side, gently pulling the other man down with him. He kissed him once before searching the blue eyes. "That was ..." He allowed the words to trail off, knowing there were none that could adequately describe what they'd just experienced together.

Gil traced a finger lightly down his lover's cheek. "Amazing."

"Hardly covers it," Nick replied with a small smile.

"I meant you."

His smile faltered and a tinge of colour touched his cheeks.

"I never even dreamed that I'd ever feel this way about anyone until you came along," Gil continued, effectively stemming whatever response Nick was about to make.

The smile returned, this time a mix of relief and understanding. "Me neither. I guess we'll just have to accept the fact that we're amazing together."

Gil smiled and reached over to kiss him. "I can live with that."

Nick shifted closer, slipping easily in to Gil's welcoming arms. "Yeah, me too."

Kissing the dark head, Gil closed his eyes. The lab could get along without them for another hour or two.

***

A few hours later, after short - and separate - showers and a quick bite to eat, they were ready to head back to the lab.

"I guess this is it," Gil said, letting out a deep breath as they stood near the door, ready to leave.

Nick stepped closer, slipping his arms around the other man and kissing him lightly. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about it myself."

Gil returned the casual embrace. "Do you still think we're doing the right thing?"

He gave that the consideration it deserved. "Yeah, I do," he finally replied. "We were going to tell them, anyway."

"Because we wanted to, not because some creep with a camera forced our hand."

"We'd decided to tell the rest of the team before we knew about the creep, remember?" Nick teased gently. "That still makes it our call, not his."

"Or hers."

"Or hers," he concurred. "Point is, this is our decision and I think it'll make things easier in the long run."

He couldn't deny that. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out and they both wanted it to come from them. As colleagues and friends, the other members of the team deserved that consideration. "You're right," he acquiesced with a small smile.

"I usually am," Nick teased, trying to take his lover's mind off of the possible reactions their announcement would be met with. "Isn't that why you keep me around?"

Gil chuckled and pulled him closer, kissing him briefly. "One of so many reasons."

"Just as long as you're not only interested in my mind, I can live with that," Nick bantered with a smile.

"I love your mind," Gil murmured, kissing his forehead. "And your eyes..." He kissed each one in turn. "And your lips..."

Nick melted into the deep kiss that followed before pulling back reluctantly. "Uh... if we continue with this inventory, we're never going to get to the lab."

"Right, again," he replied with a regretful tone as he released the man in his arms. "But I reserve the right to pick up where we left off later."

"Just try getting out of it," Nick answered with a cocky wink as they left the townhouse.
*******

Nick parked his truck in the lot and began the short walk to the building. Sometimes, if they parked close enough to one another, he'd wait and walk in with Gil, but he was always conscious of how it would look to others if he seemed to be hovering around just waiting for the other man. He wished, sometimes, that they had the kind of relationship where they didn't have to worry about every little outward appearance, but if that was the price of being with Gil, he was more than ready and willing to pay it. The time they spent together was worth every moment they had to act like they weren't.

He was pulled from pleasant thoughts of their time together by the sound of squeeling tires and turned in time to see a car accelerating through the lot. He was about to call out to the moronic driver to take it easy when the car suddenly veered sharply in the direction of where Gil was walking toward him.

"Gil!"

By the time the warning was out, it was obvious that Grissom had already seen the car and had gauged its intent. Nick watched in horror as his lover tried to dive out of harm's way, avoiding a direct impact but still hitting the pavement and rolling a few feet before laying ominously still.

"Get an ambulance!" Nick yelled to a woman who'd just stepped out of the building. Without waiting to be sure his instructions would be followed, he raced to where the other man still lay on the pavement. "Gil?" he called gently, dropping to his knees.

He quickly assessed as much of the situation as he could. While no bones were obviously broken, Gil was unconscious, blood trickling from a rapidly bruising wound on the left side of his forehead. He was relieved to see that the man was still breathing, but would have given his soul, at that moment, to see the blue eyes open.

Warrick's truck pulled into the lot and the tall CSI hurried toward where Nick knelt on the pavement. "What happened?"

"Car hit him," Nick choked out.

Warrick looked around, eyes narrowed. "What car?"

"It took off that way," one of the witnesses stated, pointing to where the car had raced out of the lot.

Warrick turned his attention back to the man on the ground. "How is he?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't know"

"Let me in there."

Nick looked up to see a young man pushing his way through the growing crowd of onlookers and breathed a sigh of relief at the EMT emblazoned on his jacket.

"Ambulance is on the way," the newcomer stated as he knelt by Gil's side. "Has he been conscious at all?"

"No," Nick replied, shaking his head.

The man nodded and began to gingerly inspect Gil's extremities and his midsection. "No broken bones from what I can tell." He took a small flashlight from his pocket and pried one eyelid gently open, eliciting a moan from the injured man.

"Gil?" Nick croaked in a combination of concern and relief.

Grissom's brow furrowed as the EMT checked his pupils. "Nick," he mumbled, trying in vain to push the stranger away. "Nicky?"

"I'm right here," Nick assured him, grasping one of Gil's flailing hands. "Try not to move, OK?"

The ambulance arrived on the scene and Nick looked at the EMT. "He'll be OK, right?"

"We'll be taking him to Desert Springs," the young medic replied, skillfully evading the real question.

"I'm going with him," Nick said emphatically.

"You're a witness," Warrick pointed out. "You should stay here and talk to the police. I'll go with Grissom."

Brass arrived in time to hear the suggestion. "I have his power of attorney," he said grimly. "I'll go." He turned to Nick, his tone softening somewhat with compassion for the distraught man. "You can fill me in on the way."

Nick let out a breath of pure relief. "Yeah. Yeah, OK."

Despite those words, little was said during the ride in the ambulance, both focusing on the injured man and the questions of the attendant. It wasn't until they'd reached the hospital and Gil had been whisked into triage that Jim actually spoke to him directly.

"Come on. I know a machine down the hall where we can get a really lousy cup of coffee while we wait."

A few minutes later, Brass was handing him a cup of the strong brew. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me until you taste it," Jim retorted.

"For letting me ride in the ambulance, I mean," he said, his gaze involuntarily sweeping toward the doorway down the hall where Gil had disappeared. After a brief moment, he focused on Jim once again. "I know you know about the pictures." He paused but maintained eye contact. "And about us."

"Oh," Jim responded in mild surprise. "Well, good. Then maybe my first question won't catch you off guard."

As though to prove that theory, Nick chose to answer the question before it had been asked. "No, I don't think it was an accident. That car swerved toward him, not away."

Jim motioned the agitated man toward the area where a few hard, plastic chairs sat against one wall. "Working on the premise that the person who hit him is the same one who sent the photos, any idea what may have provoked the escalation to attempted homicide?"

Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, hearing it in those words sent a chill through him. Someone had hit Gil intentionally. Had tried to kill him.

"Nick?"

"Uh," he stalled, shaking his head a little to clear it. "I, uh... no."

"Did he say anything about talking to anyone? Any confrontation he might have had?"

Nick shook his head slowly. "No." He took a deep breath as he forced himself to recall the chronological details. "Ecklie sent the team home. I was home for about an hour when Gil came over. He told me about the pictures and we..." He looked away with a grimace. "We kinda argued about it."

Jim offered what he hoped was a compassionate, though small smile. "He can be frustrating when he gets that stubborn streak of his working."

Nick let out a long breath. "Yeah."

"So you argued and then what?"

He was silent for a moment, looking down into the Styrofoam cup he held. When he lifted his head to meet Jim's gaze, it was with a touch of defiance. "We decided to tell the team."

"About the pictures?" Brass asked, his brows arching in mild surprise.

"About us. This guy's deal seemed to be holding the secret over Gil, so we thought we'd take it out of the equation."

Brass was frowning thoughtfully. "Was there any way he could have gotten wind of those intentions?"

"I don't see how," Nick said, shaking his head.

"Did either of you talk to anyone else after you discussed it?"

"No." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "He was exhausted from working the Biker gang case; we both were. We made our decision, got a few hours of sleep and headed back to the lab."

"Are you here for Mr. Grissom?"

They both got to their feet at the doctor's enquiry.

"Yes," Nick answered for both of them. "How is he?"

"I'm Dr. Simpson," he said, holding out his hand with a warm smile.

"I'm sorry," Nick apologized, shaking the man's hand. "Nick Stokes. This is Detective Jim Brass. How's Gil?"

"Awake and fairly lucid," the doctor replied in a reassuring tone. "His records indicate a recent head injury prior to this incident?"

"Uh, yeah, he had a concussion a few months ago," Nick said, frowning. "Why? What does that mean?"

"Possibly nothing," the doctor replied, "but given the relatively short time span between the two incidents, I'd like to run a CT scan to rule out injury to the brain."

"But you said he was lucid," Nick protested.

"And he is," Dr. Simpson assured him, "but your friend was hit by a motor vehicle and suffered a loss of consciousness, however temporary. Under the circumstances, I think the scan is warranted. A small bleed, for instance, may not prompt immediate symptoms, but could result in grave consequences if left untreated."

Nick swallowed hard at those words.

"Whatever you think is best, Doctor," Jim intervened. "Do you need me to sign anything?"

"No, he's coherent and has agreed to the tests," the doctor replied. "But he asked me to fill you in."

"Can I see him?" Nick asked.

"He witnessed the accident," Jim explained.

"I see," Simpson said in understanding. "While we don't usually allow anyone but next of kin into the trauma bays, it'll be a few minutes before they take him up for the scan. You can go in for a minute, but that's it."

Nick nodded. "Thanks." He turned to Brass.

"Go on," Jim said rather gruffly. "I'm going to call and see if they got anything from the surveillance tapes."

He nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah, OK." Taking a deep breath, he followed the doctor down the hall to the room where Gil was.

"Hey," he said softly as he approached the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Gil managed a weak smile. "Like I've been run down by a car."

"Pretty close," Nick replied, fighting the urge to take the other man's hand. He glanced at the nurse only briefly before focusing his attention once again on Gil. "The doctor says you're doing good, though."

"Did anyone get a look at the guy?"

"Brass is checking on the surveillance tapes."

He started to nod, but winced at the pain in his head. "Good," he said tightly.

"Is there anything I can do?" Nick asked, hating the look of pain on his lover's face.

Gil opened his eyes and held the ones looking down at him. "Yeah. You can be careful. This guy means business."

"I will," Nick said. "And we'll get him, Gil, I promise."

"I'm sorry, but we need to take Mr. Grissom to radiology," the nurse informed them.

"I'll be fine," Gil assured him at the worried look that flitted across his face. "You don't have to stay."

"Yeah, I know," Nick replied, forcing a small smile. "I, uh ... guess I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Grissom replied, returning the smile as best he could as they wheeled him away.

Nick stood where he was for a moment before leaving the room to find Brass. The man was pretty much where he'd left him, near the chairs in the waiting area, talking to a uniformed police officer.

"Anything?" Nick asked as he approached the two men.

"We ran the license plates," Jim informed him. "The car is registered to a Martin Lowell."

He frowned a little at the unfamiliar name. "Are you bringing him in?"

"No need," the officer replied. "At the time Mr. Grissom was hit, Lowell was at the station filing a report on a stolen vehicle."

"From a coffee shop two blocks from the lab," Brass elaborated. "Less than half an hour before Gil was hit."

"So we've got nothing," Nick sighed in exasperation.

"We're looking for the car," Jim informed him. "Chances are he'll abandon it now that it's served its purpose."

He gave instructions to the uniformed officer that Nick barely heard, his mind on what had happened and what the outcome could have been - what it might still be if they couldn't find this guy before he tried again.

"Will you be going back to the lab?"

He looked up to see that he was once again alone with Jim. "No, not just yet. I want to be here when..."

"Nick?"

They turned to see Conrad Ecklie walking toward them.

"How's Grissom?"

"They think he's going to be OK," Nick replied. "They're doing a CT scan because of that injury he had a few months ago."

"The mine," Ecklie said, nodding.

"The doctor assured us it was more a precautionary measure than anything," Jim said.

"Well, good," Conrad replied uncomfortably. "I'm glad it wasn't more serious. Any leads, yet, on who did this?"

"We're working on it," Brass informed him.

Ecklie nodded. "I've got Archie going over the tape. Maybe we'll be able to get a clearer picture of who was driving."

"When we find the car, it'll have to be dusted for prints," Nick added unnecessarily.

"Trust me, finding this guy is the lab's top priority," Ecklie assured him. "On that note, did Grissom say anything? Does he have any idea who might have it in for him or why?"

"No," Nick answered after only a brief hesitation. .

"It could be anyone from any of the cases he's worked on," Brass intoned with a sigh.

"Catherine's looking at his recent cases, but ... " Conrad shrugged. "Without more to go on, you're right, it could be anyone."

Brass glanced at Nick just as his pager went off. He checked the display before looking up at the two men before him. "They found the car. They're towing it in to the lab now."

"Good," Ecklie nodded. "I'll have Brown and Sidle process it right away." He turned slightly before looking back at Nick. "Do you need a ride?"

"I'm staying," Nick said without thought. At Ecklie's raised eyebrow, he cleared his throat and tried for a more civil approach. "I mean, I'd like to, if that's all right. I was there when he ... I just want to be sure that he's OK."

Ecklie looked at Brass as though for his input.

"I've already assigned an officer for Gil's protection, but someone from the team should be here to relay updates to the others." He smirked a little. "Otherwise, you're going to have a hard time keeping them in the lab and you know it."

Ecklie sighed. He did know it. When one of their team was in danger or injured, the others were there. Offering comfort, giving support. Caring. Having one of their own there to keep an eye on Grissom would allow the rest of them to focus on finding the person who'd put him there. "Yeah, OK," he finally relented. "Call if there's any change."

"I will," Nick promised.

Ecklie nodded at the two men and turned to leave.

"I have to tell him," Nick said once the other man was out of earshot.

"That's your call, but he's bound to find out now that this is a criminal investigation."

Nick nodded with conviction. "I'll be right back."

He caught Ecklie as he was making his way to his car. "Conrad?"

He turned with an expectant expression. "What is it?" He frowned a little. "Grissom?"

"No. I mean, it's about him, but nothing's changed in his condition."

"What, then?" Conrad asked, still frowning.

"I don't think this was a random act," Nick said quickly. "Grissom's been getting pictures in the mail from someone who claims to know his secret."

"What secret?" Ecklie asked, unable to prevent a small smirk.

"It's not a secret, not really," Nick replied nervously. "I mean, that's what the guy called it in his note, but ..."

"Slow down, Stokes," Conrad instructed. "What guy? What note?"

He took a deep breath. "Someone's been sending Grissom pictures. Of him. And me. At crime scenes and stuff."

The confusion evident on Ecklie's face intensified. "Go on," he said slowly.

"There was a note, congratulating Grissom on having a secret of his own and ... well, I guess I'm it."

"You're it ... how?"

"We're... involved... in a relationship... a personal relationship."

"You and Grissom are involved in personal relationship," he repeated slowly. "As in a romantic, personal relationship."

Nick blushed slightly. "Yes."

He was silent for a moment. "And just how long has this been going on?"

"A few months."

Conrad shook his head. "Jesus. What were you thinking? What was Grissom thinking? He's your supervisor. There are strict rules against dating subordinates and they're there for a reason, Nick."

"This isn't about the job, Conrad," Nick said quietly.

He blew out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You realize that there will be a review of your evaluations once this gets out. There are some who are always going to think you got preferential treatment because were sleeping with the boss."

"The last time Grissom evaluated me was before you split up the team, long before we got together." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "Look, I know you're going to do whatever you think you have to, but the important thing right now is finding the guy who hit Gil. I don't much care about anything else."

"Including your career?" Ecklie asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"If that's what it comes down to," Nick said without hesitation.

Conrad shook his head again. "All right, let's focus on one catastrophe at a time, shall we? Does anyone else know about these pictures?"

"Brass does."

"So everything's already being done to find this guy."

"We still don't have much to go on, but yeah."

"And there's nothing else I should know?"

He had to bite back a sigh of frustration. "No."

Ecklie seemed to be considering that. "Just so you know," he informed the other man after a moment, "what you just told me stays between us for now."

"I appreciate that," Nick replied politely.

"But we will be revisiting it once Grissom's back on his feet and you're both equally able to deal with the consequences."

Nick could do nothing but nod in agreement to those terms. "I understand."

"Good. Now I need to get back to the lab." He paused for a moment. "Let us know if anything changes."

"Yeah."

Without another word, Ecklie turned and continued toward his vehicle leaving Nick to go back inside.

"So, how did that go?" Brass asked when he'd returned.

"That'll depend on whether or not I still have a job once the dust settles," Nick said wearily.

Jim shrugged, doubtful that it would come to that. "Hey, if you find yourself thinking of a career change, there's always Homicide. I'll even put in a good word."

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered. He shook his head a little as though hoping to dispel the churlish attitude before meeting Jim's gaze head on. "Really, thanks." He forced a small smile. "And not just for the job offer."

Brass nodded in acknowledgement. "So, uh, you going to be OK here?"

"I will be." He glanced down the hall, his thoughts obviously with Grissom.

"He's not going to be a joy to deal with while he's being forced to take it easy."

"I can handle it."

Jim looked at him for a moment before allowing a soft smile. "Yeah, I believe you can." He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "I'm going to get back to work. I'll keep you posted."

Left alone, Nick looked around the busy corridor, taking note of the uniformed officer stationed at the end of the hall. With a small sigh, he lowered himself into one of the plastic chairs and did the only thing he could do.

He waited.

*******

It was over an hour later that he saw Dr. Simpson walking toward him again. Immediately he was on his feet. "How is he?"

"There's no bleeding, which is a good thing," the doctor informed him without preamble. "Unfortunately, there is some swelling which is always a cause for concern."

"Swelling?"

"Not at all unusual in cases like this, however, with his past injury, it's important that we keep it to a minimum."

"How do we do that?"

"I've started him on medication to help reduce the swelling and we've sedated him to keep brain activity to a minimum while it heals."

"Sedated him? For how long?"

"We'll monitor his progress and decrease the level of sedation accordingly. Depending on how well he reacts to the medication, we could see reasonable improvement in a matter of hours."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"I believe we caught it in good time," the doctor replied with a nod, "before it swelled to the point where an excess of pressure was likely to damage the tissue. He'll have to take it easy for a while, give the injury time to heal properly, but I have every expectation that he'll make a full recovery."

Nick could only nod, the lump in his throat making speech difficult. "Thank you," he finally managed. "When can I see him?"

"He'll be in a high acuity ward for the first couple of hours. After that, we'll move him to a regular room and you'll be allowed to visit, but I can't guarantee how responsive he'll be, again, depending on how he reacts to the medication."

"I understand," he said quietly.

"If you have any questions or concerns, speak to one of the duty nurses and they'll page me if necessary."

Nick held out his hand and shook the doctor's gratefully. "Thank you."

"Good luck, Mr. Stokes."

He waited until the doctor had left before heading to the nearest payphone. He'd just picked up the handset when he caught sight of Warrick and Catherine entering through the doors at the end of the corridor. Hanging up, he waited until they'd reached him. "Hey. I was just going to call you guys."

"How's Grissom?" Warrick asked, handing Nick a cup of coffee from the shop he liked.

"He's got some swelling in the brain and they're keeping him sedated for a while until it goes down."

"Is he going to be OK?" Catherine pressed further.

"I think so," Nick said, hating how small his voice sounded even to his own ears. "I don't... yeah, I think so."

"We finished processing the car," Warrick informed him in a dull tone. "Anything the perp might have touched was wiped clean. The only prints we found belong to the RO."

"Figures," Nick replied glumly. "We already knew he was careful about leaving prints."

Catherine frowned. "We already knew that how?"

He silently cursed his carelessness as he busied himself taking a sip of the coffee.

"Nick?" Warrick prompted.

"Someone's been sending him stuff in the mail," he finally sighed. "No prints there, either."

"You mean threats?" Catherine prodded.

"No, not really."

"But you think it's the same person who ran him down," Warrick summarized.

"Probably," he replied wearily.

"That doesn't make any sense," Catherine said, shaking her head. "Why didn't he tell anyone?"

"He told Brass but so far they haven't been able to come up with anything to indicate who's behind it."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Warrick asked

"I told Ecklie a little while ago. Grissom was planning on telling the rest of the team today, but ..."

"But he got hurt first," Catherine concluded

"Yeah."

Warrick sighed, scrubbing a hand wearily over his face. "So, what, exactly, do you know about this stuff he's been getting in the mail?"

Nick looked around the busy corridor. "Let's find someplace where we can talk," he suggested, partly because he wanted the privacy, partly because he wanted to put the conversation off for just a few more minutes while he thought about what he was going to say.

Warrick motioned them toward the small room where they'd all waited for word on Nick's condition following the burial. Putting the unpleasant memories out of his mind, he focused on the healthy, whole image of the friend standing before him. "Ok, what's up?"

Nick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Grissom got some pictures in the mail about a week ago."

"What kind of pictures?" Catherine asked, frowning.

"The first few were of him in public, at crime scenes, on the street, stuff like that."

Warrick's eyes narrowed. "The first few."

Nick nodded reluctantly. "The rest were of him and... the person he's been seeing for the last few months."

"Grissom's seeing someone?" Warrick repeated, more than a little surprised. Catherine, on the other hand, looked more thoughtful than shocked.

"Yeah," Nick replied, meeting his friends' gaze with a slightly hesitant one of his own. "Me."

They both looked at him for a long moment as though trying to translate what had been said into a language they could understand.

"You," Warrick finally managed. "You and Grissom."

He winced inwardly at the cold disbelief in his friend's tone, but nodded once. "Yeah."

After continuing to look at the other man for a moment, Warrick shook his head and turned away. "I can't believe this."

Not knowing what to say in the presence of Warrick's obvious anger or Catherine's silence, Nick waited, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

When Warrick finally turned to face him again, there was an angry spark in his eyes. "I thought we were friends, Nick."

"We are," he replied urgently. "I didn't...

"No," he said, effectively cutting him off. "You don't get to call yourself my friend one minute and lie to me the next. How long have we known each other, huh? Five, six years? And not once in that time did it occur to you to tell me that you were gay?"

Nick looked like he'd been slapped in the face but Warrick's own anger and feeling of betrayal kept him from exhibiting any real compassion where his friend was concerned.

"Warrick..." Catherine's voice was calm in an obvious effort to sooth.

"No, Cath. All these years... all the times we talked about women... he played me for a fool!"

"It wasn't like that," Nick countered, hurt and angry. "But if that's what you really believe, then I guess you're right, we're not really friends."

Warrick merely glared at him before storming from the room.

"Damn," Nick hissed, running a hand through his hair.

"Give him some time, Nick," Catherine suggested quietly. "He's just ... surprised."

"What about you?" he demanded, unable to let go of his anger completely.

One eyebrow arched gracefully while she contemplated the question. "I've known Gil a long time."

"And what, you already had it all figured out?" he retorted sarcastically.

"No, but certain things make a little more sense now."

He sighed wearily, the anger draining from him. "Must be nice. There are a helluva lot of things that don't make sense to me right now."

"Is your relationship with Gil one of them?" she asked, frowning in mild concern.

"No," he admitted freely, meeting her gaze. "That's about the only thing I am sure about."

She offered a small smile of relief mixed with compassion. "Then don't lose sight of that and everything else will work itself out."

He stared at her for a moment in shock before shaking his head. "I can't believe you're being so ..."

"What? Accepting? Understanding?"

"Any of it."

She let out a long breath. "Like I said, Nick, I've known Gil for a long time. I noticed how protective he was of you when you first joined the team, and I saw how he tried to distance himself once he made supervisor in an attempt not to show his favoritism."

He shot her a skeptical look and she laughed. "Yeah, I know. Sara always goaded him about Warrick being his favourite but..." She paused a moment, her smile softening somewhat, "some of us knew better."

"I sure as Hell didn't."

"He didn't want you to," she sighed. "That's one of the reasons he pulled away after what happened to you." She eyed him intently. "He asked about you every day, you know."

"That's what he told me," he said, never having doubted it but still strangely pleased to hear it confirmed.

"What he couldn't have told you is how he looked whenever your name was mentioned. It was killing him to stay away."

"I just wish..." He sighed. "We wasted so much time."

"Maybe it was time you both needed," she suggested. "I have to be honest, Nick, I would have been concerned if things between you had developed sooner. You were too..."

"Na茯�ve?" he asked, only partially teasing.

She wrinkled her nose mischievously. "I was going to say eager to please."

"I practically worshipped the ground he walked on," he concurred with a grimace.

"Pretty much." She paused for a moment. "But over the years I watched you gain your footing, both as a CSI and as a man and I have to say..."

"What?" he asked warily.

She flashed a coy smile. "I think Gil's a pretty lucky guy."

He blushed a little before his expression sobered. "Thanks, but I doubt he's feeling all that lucky right now."

She took a seat and watched him for a moment, taking in the genuine concern etched in his features. "Tell me everything you know about the pictures."

He proceeded to do just that, relaying all the information he had about the photos and the note.

"Sounds like maybe this guy had a secret," Catherine observed when he'd described the wording on the note. "Maybe one that Gil uncovered, inadvertently or otherwise."

"That's a pretty safe bet," he replied. "We uncover a lot of them in this job."

She was quiet for a moment. "Tell me something, Nick. Would the two of you have told us if it hadn't been for the pictures and his accident?"

"We discussed it the day before Gil got the first pictures," he admitted. "We weren't going to call a meeting or anything like that, but we'd decided that we wanted our friends to know. It just isn't something you can just blurt out, you know?"

She smiled in understanding.

"Then Warrick got wind of something and the more I evaded his questions, the more I felt like we were doing something wrong."

"You're not. You know that, right?"

"Warrick doesn't know it," he murmured, looking out the window.

"Yeah, he does," she countered wisely, getting to her feet. "But you're both big boys. You'll figure that out without any help from me."

He turned from the window with a slightly hopeful expression and she closed the distance between them to hug him. "Just remember," she advised him. "He's your friend no matter what either of you say in anger."

He returned the hug gratefully. "Thanks, Cath."

She smiled as they pulled apart. "You're welcome. Now, I'm going back to work. Keep an eye on Grissom, but take care of yourself too, you hear?"

"I will," he promised.

A moment later, she was gone and he was left standing alone in the small room.








He briefly considered heading to the high acuity ward but he knew they wouldn't let him see Gil. Suddenly craving fresh air, he headed toward the door.

Once outside, he couldn't bring himself to go far, though. Walking around to the side of the building, he found a quiet spot and leaned against the wall for a moment before sliding wearily down to sit on the grass, knees bent, eyes closed, head resting back against the brick.

Which was exactly how Warrick found him nearly an hour later.

Nick opened his eyes and watched his friend approach, his body tensing for another confrontation. To his surprise, Warrick silently took up residence beside him. They sat like that for a long moment, each staring off across the grass.

"You could have told me," Warrick finally said, quietly.

"Yeah. I can see now how stupid I was to be worried about your reaction."

He winced at the bitterness in his friend's tone, but couldn't really blame him. "I'm sorry, it just ... came as a bit of a shock, you know?"

Nick relented a little. "Yeah," he said softly. "I do know."

There was another long silence.

"So, you and Grissom."

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"About three months."

Warrick was nodding thoughtfully. "After the Dawson case."

Nick shot him a sidelong glance. "Yeah."

"I knew something was different," Warrick mused aloud. "You and Grissom were working together again and things were back to the way they were before...Gordon. Better, even. Then, that day in the locker room..." He shook his head as though to rid himself of the image. "It never occurred to me to put the two together."

"It wasn't supposed to."

"But I should have. We've been friends a long time, Nick."

"How were you supposed to figure out something that I didn't even know until a few months ago?"

Warrick turned to study him for a moment. "You never... I mean, before you and Grissom..."

Nick sighed. "I always went with the flow, you know? High school, college." He paused for a moment. "Something was always missing, but I thought it was just that I hadn't found the right girl."

"So you're saying ... the right girl turned out to be Grissom?"

Nick laughed a little. "I don't think he'd appreciate hearing it put quite that way but ..." He let the words trail off with a small shrug.

"But whatever was missing isn't anymore," Warrick offered quietly.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

Warrick shook his head slowly, squinting out over the grass. "I can't say I understand it exactly."

"You don't have to."

"I mean, I can get over the guy thing, but this is Grissom. The lab's resident bug man, Nick."

Nick laughed again, glad for the return of the easy way they'd always had with one another.

Warrick adopted a more sober expression, plucking a blade of grass to twirl between his fingers. "That day in the locker room, you said it was serious."

"Yeah."

"You think he feels the same way?"

"I know he does," Nick said softly.

"Then I guess that's all I really need to know."

Nick was quiet for a moment. "So, we're OK?"

Warrick nodded slowly before answering. "Yeah, we're cool."

There was a comfortable silence before he spoke again. "Now that I've got my shit together, why don't you tell me about these pictures."

Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to tell his friend everything he knew about the pictures and the note.

"We thought if it wasn't a secret anymore, he wouldn't have anything to hold over Gil. We were going to tell everyone and just let the chips fall."

"Kinda funny this guy decides to step it up the same day you're planning to call his bluff," Warrick intoned.

"There's no way he could have known that," Nick replied. "We only talked about it a few hours before Gil got hurt."

"You think maybe he planned this all along?"

"I don't know," Nick admitted, "but ..."

"What?"

He was shaking his head, absently staring out at nothing. "Maybe it wouldn't have happened at all if we hadn't gotten together. I mean, I knew there'd be repercussions, we both did, but I didn't imagine anything like this."

"Grissom's not laying in that hospital bed because of you, Nick," Warrick informed him firmly. "You said yourself that this guy was following him before you got together."

Nick glanced at his watch rather than replying to that. "I should get back inside."

"Not until you tell me that you know this isn't your fault, or Grissom's. The only one who gets to own this is the bastard who hit him, you got that?"

Nick smiled wanly. "Yeah, I got it."

Warrick nodded once in satisfaction and got to his feet, offering a hand to his friend. "Come on, then. Some of us still have to work, you know."

Nick allowed the other man to help him to his feet. Once standing, he offered a rather awkward smile. "Thanks, 'Rick."

It was obvious from the tone of voice that he was talking about more than just the hand. "Hey. What are friends for?"

"Right," he replied around the sudden lump in his throat.

"But just because I'm OK with it doesn't mean I want details, you hear?"

"No making out in the break room. Got it."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head briefly before sobering. "You also know I got your back, right?"

"Means a lot, man," Nick replied, just as solemnly.

Clapping him on the shoulder, Warrick turned them toward the entrance to the hospital. "I'm gonna talk to Brass. Let us know if anything changes with Grissom."

"I will."

"We'll get this guy."

"Yeah." He hesitated for a moment.

There wasn't anything more to say as they parted ways, Warrick heading for the parking garage while Nick made his way back into the hospital, his mind going over the events of the last few hours. It hadn't gone exactly the way he'd hoped, but in the end, the outcome had been a good one.

Of course, they weren't quite out of the woods on that front, yet.

***

He spent two hours in the high actuity ward waiting room, checking in periodically with the lab to get an update on the case and give them one on Gil. The former seemed to be at a standstill. There just wasn't enough to go on and they couldn't pull evidence, or a suspect, for that matter, out of thin air.

"Mr. Stokes?"

He looked up to see Dr. Simpson standing before him and got to his feet immediately.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" he asked quickly.

"Everything's fine," he assured him. "Mr. Grissom is responding favourably to the treatment and we're moving him to a room on the third floor."

He couldn't hold back a smile. "That's good news."

The doctor nodded. "Barring any unforeseen complications, he should be waking up within the next few hours."

"Does that mean he'll be allowed visitors?"

"He'll still need his rest, but as long as the numbers are kept to a reasonable level and the duration doesn't prove taxing, I see no problem with that." He frowned slightly. "I understand there is still some concern for his safety."

"Until we know who did this, we can't be sure he won't try again," Nick said grimly.

The doctor nodded. "I'm willing to let a friend or family member stay, but that offer will be rescinded if it, in any way, interferes with the care of my patient."

"I understand," Nick replied. "Thank you."

Dr. Simpson smiled and held out his hand. "You're quite welcome."

Nick returned both the handshake and the smile, waiting until the doctor had left before letting out a long sigh of relief.

*******

He'd grabbed a quick bite to eat while Grissom was being moved and by the time he got to the third floor, Gil was already in a private room. While he was still unconscious and an IV dripped slowly into his arm, his colour looked better than Nick had been expecting.

"Hey," he said softly, taking a seat beside the bed. Instinctively, he reached for Gil's limp hand, holding it in his and squeezing gently. "Dr. Simpson says you're doing really well," he informed him. He studied the unresponsive face for a moment. "I'll feel a lot better once you wake up and I can see for myself, though."

He took a deep breath. "I don't know if this is a good time to tell you this, but I told Ecklie about us. Catherine and Warrick, too." He sighed. "Warrick was pretty pissed at first, I think because he thought I'd been hiding it from him all these years, but he seems to be cool with it now. As for Catherine, she didn't seem really surprised at all." He pondered that for a moment before continuing. "They're both good friends, though, so I don't think we'll have anything to worry about there."

He was silent for a long moment, stroking his thumb over the back of Gil's hand. "I wish I could say the same about Ecklie," he finally said reluctantly. "I know we should have talked to him together, but he was here checking on your condition and I just ... I guess I thought it would make matters worse if I didn't at least tell him that your getting hit wasn't a random act."

He was still watching Gil's face closely as though looking for some sort of response although there was none. "He promised me he'd keep it to himself for now, but that we'd be talking about it as soon as you were better and able to deal with the consequences. I don't know what he's going to do, but he did say there'd probably be a review of my evaluations." He smiled wryly. "I guess, just this once, that I should be glad you always seemed a little harder on me than anyone else. At least he can't accuse you of playing favourites, right?" When even the teasing failed to elicit a reaction, he sighed again. "Anyway, I don't think he can actually fire me over this, but you know Ecklie. He'll probably ship me off to another team as soon as he can convince himself it's best for the lab."

He reached up to stroke Grissom's forehead lightly, careful to avoid the fresh wound. "I was worried about that before but all that matters now is you getting better, you hear? Doesn't matter where I work as long as you're OK, so all you have to concentrate on is waking up and getting well." He lifted the hand he still held to his lips and kissed it lightly. "I love you," he whispered almost inaudibly but still hoping it would somehow get through.

After watching him for a few more minutes, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's going on here?"

He immediately dropped Gil's hand and jumped to his feet, turning to where Sara stood in the doorway.

"Sara." He wanted to ask how long she'd been standing there, but he didn't really want to know. He doubted she'd heard the whispered declaration, but the rest...and the kiss. He'd kissed Grissom's hand in a public hospital room, a moronic, idiotic lapse in judgment on his part and one that, judging by the look on Sara's face, was going to be coming back to bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

"What's going on, Nick?" she repeated, her expression grim.

"They just moved him from the High Acuity ward," Nick explained. "This is the first they've allowed anyone in to see him."

Her icy gaze flitted from Nick to Gil and back again, lips tightly pressed together. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Why do you think Ecklie's going to transfer you? What did you do?"

"Nothing, I ..."

"Don't lie to me; I heard you. I want to know why."

He was getting a little tired of being called a liar and his own temper began to simmer in the face of hers. "That's none of your business."

"It is if it affects the team," she shot back. "And if you're the reason Grissom's lying in that bed."

"If I'm... you think this is my fault?" he demanded incredulously.

"What am I supposed to think?" she fired back. "Grissom's hurt and you've been here with him the whole time. Whenever I ask why, everyone evades my questions and finds increasingly creative ways to keeping me busy and away from the hospital." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it that no one wants me finding out? That you're responsible? That maybe this guy was really after you instead of Grissom? Who was it, Nick? A jealous husband? A jilted lover?"

He took her arm and none too gently propelled her from the room. Once in the corridor, he hissed, "You've got it all wrong."

"I don't think I do," she retorted, jerking her arm from his grasp. "If it's not guilt that's got you suddenly playing nurse maid, then what? And don't try to say it's because you and Grissom are such good friends, because it sure as Hell wasn't him sitting by your bedside when you were in here."

"Sara!"

Neither of them had been aware of Catherine's arrival, but both turned at the sharp tone.

"What do you think you're doing? This is a hospital for crying out loud."

"Don't tell me, tell him," Sara snapped back.

"I am telling you, just like I'm telling you to go get some air and cool down."

"No way. I'm here to see Grissom and I'm not going anywhere until I do."

"No one's going to let you anywhere near Grissom until you've calmed down," Catherine informed her. "Not me, not Nick and sure as Hell not that guard over there, so the way I see it, you have two choices. Get yourself together and come back when you can conduct yourself in a civilized manner, or leave altogether. It's up to you."

Sara glared at them both for a moment. "Fine, I'll go," she finally said. "But I'll be back."

Catherine let out a deep sigh once she'd left. "What was that all about?"

"Apparently, she thinks I've been here all day out of a sense of guilt," he said wearily.

"For what?"

"Who knows. She did suggest that maybe the guy who hit Gil was really after me."

Catherine sighed again. "Sara's..." She allowed the thought to trail off with a small shake of her head.

"I'm not blind, Cath, I know she's always had a thing for Grissom."

"And it's going to be hard for her to accept that he loves someone else," Catherine added. "When she finds out, if she hasn't figured it out already, it's not going to be Grissom who takes the brunt of her anger, it's going to be you."

"I never wanted to see her get hurt," he said sincerely. "But aside from walking away, which is never going to happen, there's nothing I can do to make it easier for her."

"No, there's not," she agreed. "Don't worry. She'll come around."

"I don't know about that," he said, frowning. "Or that I have any right to expect her to. If I was in her shoes, I don't know that I could stand seeing him with someone else every day."

"It's not the same," she pointed out gently. "You've already shared something with Grissom. Feelings that are reciprocated and acted upon. Of course it would be hard to lose that and see him with someone else, but with Sara, it's always been one-sided. Gil's never been hers to lose."

He appreciated the words, but they didn't make him feel much better where Sara was concerned. "I'm not sure she sees it quite that way."

"She'll have to if she wants to continue working on this team."

He sighed and nodded.

"How's he doing?"

"He doesn't look as bad as I thought he would," Nick informed her. "Aside from the gash on his forehead, you'd think he was ... sleeping."

"Did the doctor give you any idea when they expect him to wake up?"

"Could be any time," he answered with a small shrug.

"Then you should be in there with him," she said without hesitation.

"What about Sara? We both know she'll be back and I don't want her accusations to be the first thing Gil hears when he wakes up."

"I'll talk to her before she goes in," Catherine promised. "I won't tell her anything except that she has to keep her temper in check if she wants to be allowed to visit at all."

"Truth be told, I'm surprised she hasn't been here sooner."

"Ecklie sent her out to the biker scene with Greg. Told her in no uncertain terms that if she left a CSI 1 out there alone it would mean her job."

"Ouch," he said, wincing slightly. "No wonder she's pissed."

"You noticed, huh?" she teased. With a jerk of her head, she motioned toward Gil's room. "Go on."

He nodded and offered her a smile. "Thanks again."

"You're going to owe me a few when all this is over," she replied.

He nodded as he turned toward the room. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

*******

He was standing silently by the window when Sara entered the room a while later.

"Hey," she said quietly, glancing at Grissom's still form. "How's he doing?"

"No change," Nick said. "The doctor says he could wake up anytime but..." He shrugged, not needing to point out that it hadn't happened yet.

"He will," she told him. She took the seat by Grissom's bed and touched his forehead lightly, studying his features for a moment before looking up at Nick. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "For earlier, I mean. I was out of line."

"We've all been a little on edge, I guess."

She nodded in acknowledgement of the words before turning her attention back to Grissom. "He looks so ... helpless." She paused for a moment before musing aloud. "I don't think I've ever seen that before."

He had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that there were a lot of things she'd never seen before. Expressions and gestures reserved solely for Nick in the privacy of their homes. Not only when they made love, but when they were just free to be together without the constant worry of prying eyes.

He was trying to think of something to say to her comment that wouldn't give them away when a small moan sounded from the bed.

"Grissom?" Sara called gently, leaning forward over the bed. "Can you hear me?"

Nick was at his bedside in an instant, not giving a moment's thought to how it might look. "Gil?"

Lashes twitched and blue eyes opened slowly. "Where..."

The voice was ragged, but it was Gil's and Nick couldn't hide a smile. He was about to answer the unfinished question when Sara beat him to it.

"You're in the hospital," she said gently.

Gil frowned. "No. Where..." Where's Nick?"

"I'm right here," he said softly, touching Gil's arm. The blue eyes clumsily sought out the source of the voice until their gazes met. "Hey."

Grissom managed a small smile. "Hey yourself."

"How do you feel?" Nick asked.

"Tired."

"Yeah, well, they gave you some pretty strong stuff from what I hear. Might be feeling that way for a while yet."

Gil's head moved slightly in an attempt at a nod. "Everything... OK?"

"Everything's going to be fine," Nick assured him. "You rest and get your strength back and we'll talk more later, OK?"

"Ok," Gil practically whispered, his eyes closing. "Love you, Nick."

Nick's eyes flew from Gil's face to land on Sara's unreadable expression.

"Nicky?"

He looked back down at the man in the bed, his own expression softening a little. "I love you, too," he whispered.

A ghost of a smile crossed Gil's face before he gave in to sleep.

"Sara...," Nick began helplessly.

"No," she said, holding up a hand and getting to her feet. "I just ..." She shook her head. "No." Without another word, or giving him a chance to respond, she turned and hurried from the room.

*******

The next time Gil awoke, the doctor was standing over his bed writing something in his chart.

"Welcome back," he smiled. "Mr. Stokes informed us that you were awake once, but I'm glad I'm finally able to witness it first hand."

"Nick?"

The doctor pointed to the chair with a smile and Gil moved his head slowly until he could take in the sight of his sleeping lover.

"I tried to talk him into going home but..."

"He's stubborn," Gil said wearily.

Dr. Simpson laughed. "Well, there is that, but I was going to say my wife is a chiropractor," he said with a mischievous grin. "Between your brain and his neck, it looks as though we'll be able to afford to take the kids to Disneyland after all."

Grissom huffed a weak laugh, wincing as the pain in his head made itself known. "Has he been here all this time?"

"You've been out for nearly six hours," the doctor informed him. "He hasn't left your side."

Gil frowned a little. "We work together."

"I work with a lot of people," Simpson mused as he continued updating the chart. "Not one of them would care as much as your friend here so obviously does." He flashed a knowing glance in Gil's direction. "I don't make judgments, Mr. Grissom. I just thought you should know the extent of loyalty you inspire in your ... coworker."

Gil didn't miss the small smile that punctuated that statement and was lucid enough to take it in the spirit in which it had been intended. "Thank you," he replied. "But I never had any doubt."

Simpson's smile widened. "Good." He put down the chart and fished a penlight out of his pocket. "Let's see where we're at, shall we?"

After a brief examination and a deluge of questions concerning current events to assess memory loss, the doctor seemed satisfied. "I'd like you to spend the rest of the night, but I anticipate being able to discharge you in the morning."

"Thank you."

"That doesn't mean you're entirely out of the woods," he warned. "You'll need to take it easy for the next few weeks and in the event you experience any unusual symptoms, you should consult a health care professional immediately."

"I will," he agreed.

Simpson glanced at Nick and winced at the awkward position of his neck. "Shall I wake him?"

"He won't leave," Grissom replied, half complaint, half admiration. "Might as well let him sleep."

The doctor nodded. "Ok, get some rest yourself and I'll see you in the morning."

Once the other man had left, Gil spent a couple of minutes watching Nick sleep before calling to him gently. "Nick?"

He was instantly awake, sitting up in the chair and grimacing only slightly at the stiffness in his neck. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gil assured him with a small smile. "The doctor was just here. They'll be discharging me in the morning."

"He was here already?" Nick asked, glancing around the room.

"He said he tried to get you to leave but you were too stubborn for your own good."

"He said that?" Nick asked, frowning.

"I might have added the last part," Gil admitted.

Nick sighed. "God, it's so good to see you awake again."

"I'm fine, Nick," he said softly. "I promise."

He winced a little. "You might feel differently when you hear everything."

"Like what?"

"I had to tell Ecklie," he said with a sigh.

"Oh."

"He's going to keep it to himself for now, but there might be an inquiry into my evaluations and your conduct as my supervisor once you're back to work."

"Ok."

"That's it? OK?"

He shrugged a little. "What else can I say? He was bound to find out under the circumstances."

"Then you should also know I had to tell Warrick and Catherine," he hedged.

"How did they react?"

"Not the way I'd expected, exactly. Warrick was pissed as Hell, but Catherine acted like I'd just told her the sky was blue." He shook his head in wonder. "Sometimes I just don't get her."

"Part of her charm," Grissom said dismissively. "I'm more concerned about you and Warrick."

"We're OK," he assured him. "We talked and ... well, it's all good, or it will be, anyway."

"I hope so," Grissom said, obviously still concerned. "You've been friends for a long time."

"And we still are. Will be for a long time to come," Nick replied, trying to put his mind at ease where Warrick was concerned. His expression clouded a little. "I'm not so sure about Sara, though."

"You told her?" he asked, surprised.

"Actually, it was more like you told her," he said, making a face. "You came to while she was here and ... you said you loved me."

He frowned a little. "I don't remember."

He huffed a wry laugh. "Well, I doubt she'll forget it any time soon."

"What happened?"

"She left. I tried to talk to her but..."

"She wasn't happy," he surmised.

"I think that's putting it mildly."

"I'm sorry. I know you were worried about how she'd take it."

"Not your fault. You were barely conscious at the time."

They were both silent for a moment.

"Well," Grissom sighed. "We'd planned on telling everyone anyway."

He couldn't resist an amused smile at the pragmatic, very Grissom approach. "Yeah."

"Are you still OK with them knowing?" he asked sincerely.

He thought about it for a moment. "Yeah," he answered. "I don't want to lose my job or my friends but ... losing you would have been worse."

Gil reached out his hand and took Nick's, squeezing it gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Nick smiled a little and leaned in to kiss him lightly. "Then we'll handle the rest of it together, deal?"

"Wouldn't want it any other way," he whispered.

"Get some sleep," Nick said, still smiling. "We'll deal with everything else once you're out of here."

"You should go home and get some real sleep."

"Uh huh."

Knowing the easy acceptance meant Nick wasn't going anywhere, he added, "At least ask one of the nurses for a pillow or you're going to end up with a permanent crick in your neck."

"I will."

"You're placating me."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

He tried not to show his amusement, but one corner of his mouth curved against his wishes. "Well, stop it."

"Then stop trying to micro-manage and just close your eyes."

Gil did as instructed and Nick rewarded him with a kiss to the forehead.

The blue eyes opened again and swept around the room.

"Thought you were supposed to be sleeping," Nick chastised gently.

"Just wanted to make sure we were alone this time," Gil replied as his gaze landed on his lover's face. "I love you."

Nick kissed him again, this time softly on the lips. "I love you, too. Now, sleep."

He waited a few moments until Gil had drifted off before getting to his feet to stretch his limbs. He was tired and his neck was still a little stiff, but it was the best he'd felt in the last ten hours. Not even the uncertainty of what they'd have to face back in the lab was enough to ruin his mood now that Gil was awake with no sign of lingering effects from the mishap.

He spent the next hour alternating between standing at the window and sitting in the chair by Gil's bed. He was hungry, but knew the cafeteria wouldn't be open for another couple of hours and didn't want to leave Gil long enough to go elsewhere. Hoping to track down a nearby vending machine, he headed for the door, surprised when it opened right before he reached it.

"Mr. Stokes."

He eyed the man warily, his gaze darting into the hallway where the guard was supposed to be on duty. "Who are you?"

"I'm not surprised you don't remember me," the man said amicably, closing the door behind him. "As I recall, you never worked Robbie's case."

He took a step backward toward the bed where Gil slept and was about to call out to the guard when he noticed the gun the man held, partially hidden in the folds of his rain coat. "What do you want?"

"To finish what I started," the man said easily. "Your Mr. Grissom, here, is a hypocrite. It's time the world knew that, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nick replied, trying to keep his voice steady, his gaze darting frantically toward the door.

"If you're looking for your cop friend, I'm afraid he's got his hands full at the moment."

"What did you do to him?" Nick demanded.

"I assure you, Mr. Stokes, he's alive and well and doing his duty alongside his fellow officers." He shook his head with a mock frown. "Terrible brawl in the emergency room, from what I hear."

"One you no doubt had a hand in."

"I may have ... inspired some of the participants," he admitted with a smile.

"You won't get away with this."

"I don't intend to," the man informed him. "But I will get my day in court and everyone will finally know the truth."

"And that's worth spending the rest of your life in prison?"

The man actually laughed. "The rest of my life? I have no life, thanks to him."

"Step aside, Nick."

Both the words and the fact that Gil was awake surprised him but only for a moment. "No."

"Nick..."

"Do as he says, Mr. Stokes," the man suggested. "I have no wish to harm you."

"I'm the one he wants," Gil concurred. Nick's gaze flitted briefly toward his lover, noting that he was now standing beside the bed. "Isn't that right, Professor Menke?"

"So, you do remember," the other man said with a wicked grin. "Though it's no longer Professor, I'm afraid." His gaze hardened a little. "You saw to that, didn't you?"

"I was doing my job," Gil tried to explain calmly, though the words had the opposite effect on the man before them.

"No! Your job, Mr. Grissom, was to find out who killed Robbie!"

"And we did."

"And you took great pleasure out of ruining my life in the process!" The enraged man turned his attention on Nick. "Imagine my surprise when I saw him with you, of all people."

"Leave him out of this," Gil said firmly.

"Like you left my relationship with Robbie out of it?" he demanded of Gil, though he was still looking at Nick. When he continued, his voice was softer, sadder. "I loved him, you know."

Nick could only nod, swallowing hard.

He turned his attention and his gun back to Gil. "And you, you tried to make it into something dirty, something wrong."

"I was merely trying to get to the truth."

"I did everything I could to help you! Fingerprints, DNA. And what did I get in return? I lost my job, my wife, my family." He stepped closer to Gil. "I'd already lost Robbie, but that wasn't enough for you, was it? Was it?"

"I'm sorry," Gil said quietly.

The man scoffed a short laugh. "Why? Because you realize now that we're not so different? Are you worried that people will judge you the way you judged me? Us?" He looked at Nick for a moment, then turned his attention back to Gil. "I begged you, begged you not to expose us."

"It doesn't work that way," Gil explained calmly. "I don't get to choose what evidence comes to light."

"Our relationship didn't have anything to do with his death. You could have looked the other way, but instead you questioned my colleagues, my wife."

"As I recall, you told me your marriage was over."

His expression crumpled briefly. "I was going to leave her... for him. He never even got a chance to know that."

"Nothing I did, or didn't do, in the course of my investigation would have changed that," Grissom pointed out quietly.

"But it wouldn't have been turned into something sordid. All I ..." His voice cracked a little and he took a moment to regain his composure. "All I had left were memories and you tainted them with your condemnation." He turned to address Nick again. "I wasn't even allowed to grieve for him. His family thought I was some sort of sick pervert who had sex with his students."

Nick glanced briefly at Gil before replying. "But Robbie was the only one, right?"

"There were others," he said distractedly. "But he was different. I loved him."

"Then I'm sorry for your loss," Nick said sincerely.

He seemed briefly taken aback by those words before shaking his head slightly. "He's the one who should be sorry," he said, turning the gun on Grissom once again. "He ruined me. Made me out to be some sort of monster and then turned around and did the very thing he condemned me for."

"It's not the same," Grissom said tightly.

"I followed you!" Menke yelled. "I saw you on the job. You're his boss, his superior. You hold a position of authority over him just like I did over Robbie. What makes you so special, Mr. Grissom? Did you think no one would know? That it wouldn't get out?"

"It is out," Gil replied. "You made sure of that. Isn't that what you wanted? To expose my secret just as I exposed yours?"

Nick briefly saw a face in the door's small window and his pulse quickened. "Mr. Menke," he hedged, hoping to keep the other man's attention away from the door. "Nobody needs to get hurt, here. You did what you wanted. Everybody knows our secret."

"Not everybody," Menke grated. "It was in all the papers when I lost my tenure. He needs to know how that feels."

The door slowly opened and Brass silently entered the room, gun drawn. "Police," he identified himself once he had a bead on the suspect. "Drop the gun."

"It's over, Menke," Grissom said. "You'll get your day in court. It will be in all the papers. We're even now."

He knew he'd made a grave mistake as soon as the words had left his mouth and he saw something dawn in Menke's eyes.

"Not quite," the gunman said, his voice strangely calm. Before Gil could say or do anything, he was forced to watch in horror as Menke turned in Nick's direction and a single shot echoed throughout the small room.

"You guys OK?" Brass asked, holstering his gun as he motioned for someone to check on the wounded suspect.

Only then did Gil register Nick's hand on his arm. "Nick."

"We're OK," Nick said, both answering Jim's question and assuring his seemingly dazed lover. "Come on, Gil. Get back in the bed."

"No," he said, pulling his arm from Nick's grasp and looking down at where Menke lay on the floor. "How is he?"

"He's dead." Jim replied. At Grissom's somewhat dismayed look, he added. "You'd rather I let him shoot Nick?"

Only then did Gil turn his attention fully on the other man in the room. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah."

"Is there another room available?" Jim asked the closest nurse. "This one is now a crime scene."

"Of course," she replied shakily. "Room 312 is empty at the moment."

"Good. Can we get a wheelchair for our patient?"

"I don't need a wheelchair."

"You do unless you want your bare ass hanging out all the way down the hall," Jim intoned.

The nurse returned with the requested chair and proceeded to get Grissom into it and his IV arranged for the move.

Once in the empty room, Nick suggested that Gil get into the bed, but he only moved from the wheelchair to a stationary one beside the bed. Once the nurse had transferred the IV bag to another pole, Jim asked her if they could have some privacy.

"So that was the guy who'd been sending the pictures?" Jim asked once the three of them were alone.

Gil nodded.

"He blamed Gil for ruining his career," Nick elaborated.

"Maybe he was right," Gil said tonelessly. "I expose secrets every day. I never stop to think about how these people cope with the exposure later."

"It's not your job to think about that," Jim reminded him. "You do what you have to do."

"So, what happens now?" Nick asked.

"No need for a trial," Jim sighed. "I'll get your statements, file my report and ..." He shrugged a little. "That'll be the end of it."

Nick was nodding slowly. "I'm glad." He turned to face Gil and frowned a little. "You don't look very good. You want me to call the doctor?"

Gil shook his head. "No." He looked up at his lover. "What I want is for you to go home and get some sleep."

"I'm not leaving."

"Under the circumstances, it doesn't appear that I'll be having further need of a babysitter."

Nick glanced at Brass before turning back to Gil, his jaw clenching. "I'm not a babysitter. I'm here because I want to be here."

"And I want you to leave," Gil said evenly, holding the other man's gaze.

"Gil, I ..."

"Jim, make sure he actually goes home, will you? I don't want to find out he slept in the waiting room."

"Uh, sure," Brass said uncomfortably.

Nick looked at him with an expression of disbelief that he'd agree with Gil, but the detective merely shook his head slightly.

"That's what you want?" Nick asked.

"It is," Gil said, avoiding eye contact.

He nodded once, his jaw set in determination. "Give us a minute, will you Jim?"

"Nick, just go home, please," Gil said softly as Brass quietly left the room.

"Is this really the way you want to play this?"

He sighed. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just ... tired. I'd like to rest."

"Yeah, well, I'm tired, too," he returned coldly.

"All the more reason why you should just go home." He looked at him, blues eyes pleading. "Please."

Nick was silent for a moment. "You promised you weren't going to do this," he finally said, his voice hoarse. "You promised we'd deal with this together."

"Like we faced Menke together?" Gil asked, his tone hard.

"Gil..."

"No, Nick," he cut him off sharply. "He would have killed you. Don't you get that?"

"Yeah, I get it," Nick grated, just as angrily. "So, what? I need to be punished for that, too? For surviving? Again?"

The colour visibly drained from Gil's face as he got to his feet. "I ...God, Nicky, no, that's not ..."

"You pushed me away once," he croaked, tears welling in his eyes. "If you do it again..." He swallowed hard, taking a moment to compose himself. "If you really want me to leave, I will." He paused briefly. "But that's it, Gil. You have to decide, right here, right now, whether or not you want me in your life. No half measures, no conditions."

"It's not that simple," Gil managed in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes, it is. It won't necessarily be easy, but it is that simple." He stared intently at the other man for a long moment. "What do you want, Gil? What do you really want?"

Gil searched his face, his expression an ever-changing mixture of emotions. "Don't go," he finally managed.

The softly voiced plea was Nick's undoing and he pulled the other man into a tight embrace to hide his tears.

Gil clung to him like a lifeline, painfully aware of how close he'd come to losing the man in his arms, first to Menke's bullet, then to his own fears. Part of him knew he didn't deserve what he had at that moment but he was tired of trying to balance the scales. "You deserve so much more," he whispered into Nick's ear. "But God help me, I don't want to let you go."

Nick pulled back a little to look at him, uncaring that Gil could see the tears on his face. "Then stop trying so damned hard."

He brushed the pads of his thumbs over Nick's wet cheeks. "I was so scared."

"I know," Nick replied, resting his hands on Gil's wrists. "Otherwise I would have kicked your ass a few minutes ago."

Gil huffed a laugh, pressing their foreheads together. "I think you did anyway." He pulled back a little to look into the expressive brown eyes. "Promise me you'll never stop."

"I think that's a promise I can keep," he whispered.

He gazed into the face still cupped in his hands for a long moment before leaning in slowly to claim the younger man's lips in a kiss as deep and intimate as any they'd shared.

Nick sighed, melting into the kiss, his hands traveling up Gil's arms to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

They were totally lost in one another a few minutes later when they were pulled apart by the sound of Jim clearing his throat.

"I'd say get a room but you already have one," the detective intoned. "Though you may want to wait for one that doesn't afford a free show to anyone in the corridor before you take this any further." He smirked a little at the colour that rose in Nick's cheeks. "Oh, and Nicky? You might want to look into a bathrobe or something for your friend here."

Gil grasped the back of his hospital gown, holding it together while glaring at his long time friend in exasperation. "Was there something you wanted, Jim?"

"Besides to torment the two of you?" he teased. "No, can't think of a thing." At the rolling of Gil's eyes, his smile broadened. Turning to Nick, he added. "I take it you're not leaving just yet?"

Nick and Gil looked at one another.

"I think it's safe to say that neither one of us are going anywhere," Gil said.

"Not for a long, long time," Nick added with a small smile to let the other man know he'd picked up on his meaning.

"Well, then," Brass said, "I'll, uh..." He let the thought trail off as he realized that neither one of them were listening to him, if they even remembered he was in the room. Holding up one hand, he said simply, "That's OK, I'll let myself out."

"Jim?"

He turned at the sound of Gil's voice.

Grissom smiled at him. "Thanks."

He couldn't have resisted returning the smile if he tried, not with the two men standing before him safe and so obviously happy with one another. "Just doing my job," he said with a wave before leaving the room.

"You know the doctor's likely to be in here as soon as he hears about what happened," Nick pointed out.

"Probably."

"Might just save yourself a lecture if you're back in bed before he gets here."

"I have the feeling I'll be saving myself two," Grissom replied with no real complaint.

Nick just smiled in agreement and watched as Gil got into the bed. Once the other man was settled, the head of the bed raised so that he was sitting more than reclining, Nick took up residence in the chair by his side. "There. Isn't that better?"

"It is, actually," Gil said on a sigh. "I don't remember the last time I felt so ... drained."

Nick brushed a hand over the other man's forehead. "Head injuries will do that."

Gil took the wandering hand and kissed it before twining their fingers together.

They were both silent for a moment before Nick spoke again. "I know it's crazy after what he did, but ... I feel bad for him. I can't even imagine what it must have been like, losing the man he loved and not even being able to grieve for him."

Gil squeezed the hand he held gently. "Menke didn't exactly give you the whole story," he said quietly.

"Can you tell me?"

Gil sighed. "Maybe he loved him, I don't know, but I do know that Robbie Jenkins wasn't the man Menke thought he was, or wanted him to be, at least."

"How do you know?"

Gil shrugged. "I had to talk to a lot of Robbie's friends during the course of the investigation. Professor Menke seemed to be the only one who thought Robbie was serious about their relationship. From all accounts, he had a number of lovers."

"So why was he with Menke at all? Just because he was his professor?"

"Robbie lived in a condo that would be the envy of most university students. He also drove a nice car and wore a thousand dollar watch. Most of his acquaintances hinted at that as the biggest reason."

Nick was silent for a moment. "Menke never knew?"

"Ironically, the one secret I never exposed."

"You didn't want to hurt him."

"It wasn't relevant to the case."

Nick nodded. After a moment, he added, "You know he was wrong, don't you? We're nothing like them."

Gil squeezed his hand again but didn't say anything.

"You never took advantage of the fact that you were my boss and I sure as Hell don't think being with you is going to further my career."

He barked a short, surprised laugh. "I think that goes without saying."

Nick smiled a little. "And since, to the best of my knowledge, anyway, you're not one to spring for extravagant gifts, I guess that only leaves one possible explanation for me being here."

"Really." Though the tone was one of practiced nonchalance, his mouth betrayed him by curving into a slight smile.

Nick shrugged. "The evidence points to only one conclusion and you know what they say."

"The evidence never lies."

He leaned forward and kissed the other man gently. "I love you. No strings attached."

Gil squeezed his hand again. "Enough to handle whatever that might mean for us now that everyone knows?"

Nick smiled. "At least enough for that."

He studied the other man's face for a moment. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Nick's smile only broadened slightly and Gil reached up to cup the square jaw with one hand, tilting it just enough to facilitate a sweet kiss. "But I do know I love you."

"Then, as a wise lady once told me, don't lose sight of that and everything else will work itself out."

He considered the words briefly, seeing their veracity shining in the deep brown eyes. "Yes," he mused. "Yes, I truly believe it will."

***

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