Title: Simple
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Warning: PG
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them.
Summary: Grissom does a runner. (Sequel to "Limbo")

Nick's been hiding in the A/V lab for the last two hours. Sometimes being assigned to a case can result from walking down the hallway, looking available, and a new case at this point would almost certainly lead to a double shift. Nick intends to do everything he can to avoid that today.

He wishes he could somehow keep an eye on Gil at the same time. Nick is willing to bet anything that Gil will take the next case that comes in, even if it means a triple shift, even if every other CSI is available. For all he knows, Gil is already out somewhere. He wonders if he should risk walking down the hallway, just to check.

"There!" Archie exclaims. "Do you see that? In the bottom right corner, what is that?"

Nick forces his attention back to the screen.

---ooo---

About 15 minutes before the end of the shift, Nick walks down the hallway towards Gil's office with a sense of foreboding. The door is open, but the office is dark.

He's gone, Nick thinks, first disappointed, then angry. The son of a bitch left. Nick's not really surprised, he expected it. Despite himself, he looks into the office in order to double-check, but Grissom isn't there.

"Looking for Grissom?" Sara asks, as she walks by. "He and Warrick are on a case in Henderson. He left about two hours ago."

Of course he did, Nick thinks bitterly.

---ooo---

The closer Nick gets to home, the angrier he gets. He's gritting his teeth so hard, his jaw has started hurting.

Fuck ‘im, he thinks. I've had it. This one step forward, three steps back routine, he can try that on someone else. I'm done.

A cab ignores a stop sign and turns right into Nick's path and he has to stand on the breaks and swerve in order to avoid an accident. The truck comes to a standstill alongside the curb and he sits there for a while, gripping the wheel tightly.

"Bastard" he whispers, but he doesn't mean the cabbie.

---ooo---

Nick knows he's not going to sleep any time soon. Once home, he changes into jeans and a T-shirt and takes a beer out of the fridge. Despite the air conditioning his face is hot, his eyes burning. He sinks into an armchair, takes a long swallow, then presses the cold can against his forehead and closes his eyes.

He doesn't know what to do anymore. He had half-expected Grissom to shut down on him after their night together. When it happened, he decided to give Grissom some time and space, not push him, let him come to terms. But Grissom seemed to be retreating further and further away, a possibility Nick hadn't really considered. So when Grissom walked into the locker room earlier in the evening, Nick couldn't keep silent any longer. At the end of the brief conversation, Nick had been filled with hope that finally, finally, they were going to get somewhere.

He should have known better. "Grissom, you're a fucking coward" he shouts.

---ooo---

He opens a second beer and turns on the TV, mindlessly flipping through the channels. He pauses briefly at a couple of sports channels, the local news, an infomercial selling miraculous car polish, but nothing keeps his attention for long.

He flips through the channels a second time, then a third. He has cable, so it takes a long time.

---ooo---

He's deliberating going to bed and trying to get some sleep when the doorbell rings. His heart jumps and he rushes to open the door. Old Mrs. Campbell is standing at his doorstep. He's so disappointed it's all he can do to greet her in a civil voice.

"Nick dear, I heard the TV, so I took a chance you're not sleeping yet. Would you please come and help me for a minute? My refrigerator stopped working all of a sudden. It might be a blown fuse, but I don't know how to check. Mark always used to do that."

"Sure Mrs. Campbell" Nick says gently. "I'll come and check it right now."

---ooo---

Once home again, he brushes his teeth and then moves to the bedroom. He's just pulled his T-shirt off when the doorbell rings again. He sighs tiredly, then puts his T-shirt back on. Mrs. Campbell really needs to get the entire fuse box changed; it's almost as old as she is.

He opens the door and Gil is standing there. Nick just stares at him.

"May I come in?" Gil asks. Nick doesn't answer immediately. Then he steps back, opening the door wider, gesturing Gil towards the living room.

Gil walks into the living room, then turns back towards Nick, his hands in his pockets. He looks tense, uncomfortable. When he starts speaking, it sounds stilted and rehearsed.

"I can't be in a relationship with someone I supervise. We're risking too much. Our professional reputation, our integrity, even our careers."

Nick tries to speak, but Gil holds up a hand, stopping him.

"I'm going to talk to Ecklie about transferring me to another shift. I've been working graveyard for years, it's someone else's turn. Unless you prefer to transfer. It doesn't matter, as long as you're no longer reporting to me."

"Gil" Nick tries again, but Gil rushes along.

"I want to try. I don't know where it will lead, but I want to try. OK?"

"Yeah" Nick agrees.

---ooo---

When he hears Nick's response, Gil nods briskly and moves towards the door. He already has his hand on the doorknob, when Nick catches up with him and wraps his arms around him from behind. Gil turns around in Nick's embrace, cups Nick's neck and leans his forehead against Nick's, his eyes closing in relief.

In the end, talking to Nick had been pretty simple.