Title: Sleep
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Rating: R
Warning: Spoiler for Season 5 "Mea Culpa"
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them
Summary: Established relationship. Gil isn't Nick's boss anymore.

"I got this; that's the kind of cash I'm pulling down right now," I grin and slide out of the booth. While I'm waiting for the cashier to count up my change, I look back at Gil, who's facing my direction. The moment I make eye-contact, his eyes slide away.

I've just climbed into my truck, when Warrick walks out of the diner and towards me. I roll down the window. "So, I'll see you tonight." It's force of habit; I've been saying the same thing for over five years. I realize my mistake almost immediately.

Warrick shakes his head. "A lot earlier than that. Catherine just called. She'd like to see us in her office, go over some things, as soon as we get in."

"Her office," I repeat, rolling my eyes. I like Catherine and she deserves the promotion, but she's moving quickly. On the other hand, why wait? It's not like something bad has happened.

Warrick just smiles and then heads for his own car. I'm still sitting there when he pulls out of the parking lot. The sun is reflecting off of the diner window, so I can't see through it, but I imagine Gil on the other side, maybe one hand wrapped around his coffee cup. I wonder if he's looking out at me. I wonder if I should wait for him. I finally decide I'll listen to one song on the radio and if he's not out by then, I'll leave. I end up listening to three before I drive home. I'm pissed at him, but it doesn't last too long. Gil didn't say much about the meeting with Ecklie, but he must be feeling pretty humiliated. Gil likes to lick his wounds alone.

---------

I can't sleep. When I was a kid I once read that there is never absolute silence, we're always hearing something. Every now and then I still try to disprove the theory. I lie in the dark, listening. At first I hear nothing, but it's only because I'm so used to the sounds: the drone of traffic outside, the hum of the air conditioner, the ticking of the wind-up alarm clock Gil gave me two years ago, when a broken power line left my house with no electricity for about a week.

I try to work out the logistics. My shift is four to twelve. Gil is on twelve to eight. Then he sleeps, which means he's awake during my shift. No, we have to sleep during each other's shifts, so that we're awake together. And what about sleeping together? I'm finding it hard to stay focused; I have to solve this, it can't be that difficult, but all I can think of is friends in similar situations bitching about the fact that they never get to spend quality time with their partners. The covers are too hot and I'm suddenly terribly thirsty.

The sunshine streaming through the kitchen window is a relief. I don't bother with a glass, just cup my hand under the running water and drink, then stand there, looking outside. I can hear a lawn mower and when I crack the window open, I can smell freshly cut grass. Mornings are nice. We should be awake during the morning.

The doorbell makes me jump. I walk to the entrance and see that the door is ajar, the chain stretched taut. I peer through the opening and see Gil standing there, holding my house key in one hand.

"You started putting the chain on the door?" he asks me.

I close the door in order to release the chain and then let him in. He leans over and kisses me. "Hi," he murmurs, then kisses me again. He stands back, putting his hands in his pockets and looks at me, his head cocked slightly to the side.

"Hi," I respond. I'm not sure if I want to punch him or drag him to bed. Actually I want to do both, I just need to decide in which order. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I'm working on something," he answers, then turns on his heel and heads towards the kitchen. That's it, I'm going to punch him first. I follow him into the kitchen. He's putting a filter into the coffee machine.

"You're working on something which requires my coffee machine?"

He smirks.

"Not yours specifically," he says. "It could be mine, as well." He busies himself measuring coffee.

"Gil," I say warningly. Although I should be used to it by now, I'm mildly annoyed at how easily he manages to throw me off balance, but his mood is infectious and I'm starting to fight a smile.

He presses the start button and finally turns to look at me again, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.

"Actually, it could be ours," he says softly.

I just stare at him. I can't believe I didn't notice his eyes when I first met him, so blue, so beautiful. The coffee machine is starting to burble and when I finally remember to breathe, I can still smell the mown grass, but the aroma of the brewing coffee is stronger. This is what happiness smells like, I think inanely.

I step up to him and clasp my hands together behind his neck. He puts his own hands on my hips and widens his stance, so that he can pull me to stand between his legs.

"I waited outside the diner for you."

"I know." He doesn't offer an explanation or an apology.

"This change. I'm sorry about the way it happened, but it's not all bad."

"I know."

"You're not my boss anymore," I grin.

He kisses me. "I know."

"What are you working on?"

He kisses me again, his hands slipping to the small of my back, pulling me more firmly against him.

"Changing my sleep schedule."

Maybe I won't punch him after all. He's nuzzling under my ear and it's ticklish and it's making me hard.

"Why don't you come to bed now and start on changing your sleep schedule tomorrow," I suggest. "Kind of ease into it."

I can feel him smiling against my neck.

"But I've just made coffee." He shifts against me.

"Fuck the coffee," I say breathlessly.

---------

The good thing about a wind-up alarm clock is that it's not connected to a wire, so you can throw it across the room. Of course that means you have to get up and chase after it in order to shut it off. I sit back on the bed, feeling woozy. I have to fight hard against the urge to lie down again.

"Hey," Gil says sleepily, pushing himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

"Hey," I respond, looking back at him. "You don't have to get up yet."

In typical Gil fashion, he ignores me.

"Nicky," he says. He smiles at me.

"Gil." If my teeth didn't feel like they're wearing little sweaters, I'd kiss him.

"I'm not your boss anymore."

"I know."

Just then my cell phone goes off. I looked at the screen; it's Warrick, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Just thought I'd give you a wake-up call, man. Shit, this is going to be tough for a while."

I smile at Gil.

"I know," I tell Warrick. "I know."