Title: We Carried It All So Well
By: postnotice
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: CSI: Vegas. One day I'll go onto others...
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Disclaimer: I only own Robert. :3 *nods* Really. All I own.
Warnings: other pairings
Feedback: I appreciate the niceness, so if you hate it and feel the need to tell me, do it nicely. *eyebrow waggle*
Summary: Greg isn't as stable as he seems and Nick isn't fooling anyone.
Author's Note: Warrick isn't in this one. :( This is why Robert came in; I know, I could have went the Wendy as a CSI route, or even made a chick, but... I don't know. I kind of like Robert. *eyebrow waggle* I know this is short, too; I've got the next piece written and I'm hoping you'll have it next Friday at the latest. I just want to make sure that I've got quite a bit of it written before I start posting everything. This is self-beta'd, because I haven't heard from my beta in a while... :\ And I apologize for the cliffhanger. *eyebrow waggle* And I apologize for the formatting. :\

--

"You're late." He's not used to Grissom's voice. Two weeks of vacation in "San Francisco" to "visit his parents" (in actuality, he had locked himself in his apartment and gotten drunk night after night) kept away the voice of his boss, telling him where to go and what to do, who to talk to and everything else that came with being a CSI level one.

"Alarm didn't go off."

Ignoring the concerned look that crossed Grissom's face, Greg walked to the coffee pot in the break room and began pouring himself a cup. "We're short. Robert called in sick and Wendy's not qualified for field yet."

"Sorry." Greg downed the coffee he was holding and began emptying the pot. "I'll make sure to watch it tomorrow night."

"Greg, if you're not ready for field work again…"

"I'm ready for field work, okay?" Guilt creeping up at him for snapping at his boss, Greg shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, it was a long two weeks and I wasn't exactly ready to come back to work."

Nodding, Grissom handed him a slip with an address. "Be that as it may, I'm glad to have you back, Greg. The lab's not the same without you." With that, Grissom exited the break room, leaving Greg with his thoughts.

--

Five weeks ago, a suspect had run from a room and managed to escape Brass and the few officers standing around, running right into Greg, who had been holding an armload of evidence. Having had the suspect run into him, the evidence was compromised and Greg's wrist had been fractured. With this accident to add to the growing list of failed attempts at starting a life in Vegas, Greg had started to rethink his post-college decision of starting over in Las Vegas and began seriously thinking about returning home.

He had yet to mention it to anyone, even his parents, though he knew that they would be ecstatic to hear that he was thinking about it. Since he told his mother he was working in the field, she was more worried about him than she used to be, and that paired with the fact that both his parents were getting old and needed help with things from time to time was almost enough to get Greg to pack up his things and move right away.

There used to be one person keeping Greg in Las Vegas, and that person came in the form of Nick Stokes. He had become almost certain that Nick had felt the same, only to come to work with intentions of telling him and be shot down. Nick had a girlfriend. He claimed that they had been dating a few months, which meant that they were well on the road to commitment.

News of a girlfriend only made Greg realize that he had no future in Nick Stokes, no matter how many people he consulted to ask them if there was. Though the people more often than not told him that yes, he was interested, Greg couldn't bring himself to say anything. If he was correct, sometime this month was Nick's six month anniversary with the girlfriend he'd yet to meet, and he still hadn't said anything. They'd known each other eight years but he didn't say a word.

And now… Now he didn't have a chance. Nick was dating some girl and Greg couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Weeks passed and Greg tried everything to block the images of Nick and someone else, over-the-counter drugs, alcohol, sleep medication, anything. At one point he tried illegal drugs but the thought of losing his job and screwing up his life even more scared him away from ever doing it again. No matter what he took, he was left with an imprint in his mind that Nick was going to be with this girl forever, regardless of any attempt to stop it on Greg's part.

"A year?" A low whistle from Robert, the CSI who had replaced Warrick, caught Greg's attention. "Damn, my last relationship last all of two months, and we were nowhere near as happy as you and this girl sound."

"Yeah, I think we're in it for the long haul." Hearing Nick sound so genuinely happy made Greg's heart ache and swell with happiness at the same time. While he wanted so badly to be the person in Nick's life that would make him so happy, he couldn't say that he wanted Nick to be miserable. The man deserved happiness, especially with all the things that had been thrown at him in life, and who was Greg to deny that?

He decided to bypass the locker room and head straight for the morgue. San Francisco was sounding better everyday, but even with a brand new start in front of him, Greg wasn't sure he could leave behind his life just like that.

Greg changed directions again and started for Grissom's office. Once there, he pushed open the door, surprised when Grissom was actually sitting in a chair, looking through files. The sound of his office door closing brought him from his work. "Greg?"

Licking his lips nervously, Greg took a deep breath and made the decision to change his life forever. "I'd like to request a shift change. I want to work days."

Greg tried to ignore the confusion etched across Grissom's face and focused on keeping himself together.

"Days?" When Greg nodded, Grissom reached for his glasses and leaned forward across his desk. "If you don't mind my asking, is there anything that's pushing you to change shifts?" Greg shook his head, hoping that Grissom wouldn't catch on. "Anyone that's making it hard to work on nightshift?" Greg shook his head again but knew that Grissom wasn't going to believe him. "Greg, I—"

A knock on the door tore Grissom from his sentence and he took a moment to look at Greg before saying, "Come in."

Nick's head appeared as he opened the door and he glanced between the two men. "Brass called, said you'd be interested in a scene he found…"

Grissom nodded and stood up, grabbing his cell phone from his desk. "We'll talk after shift, Greg." Greg nodded and turned to follow Grissom, only to have a hand pressed to his chest.

An amused look crossed Nick's face, but Greg noticed concern set in his eyes. "You get in trouble?" Greg knew that Nick was expecting a grin and some sort of joke, but all he could manage was a small smile – he couldn't trust himself to speak, worried that if he opened his mouth he'd start sobbing. Tears pooling in Greg's eyes, he looked away from Nick and pushed his hand away. "Greg…" When Greg still didn't meet Nick's gaze and tried to leave, Nick gripped his shoulder and tilted his head to see into his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Unable to answer verbally, Greg nodded his head and cleared his throat, pushing Nick's hand from his shoulder again, only to have Nick stop him again. "God, will you…" Hearing his voice crack, Greg swallowed and started over. "I have to go. Please." Voice cracking again, Greg took his chances and looked up at the Texan, meeting his gaze again. Instead of dropping his arm, Nick brought his other up and embraced Greg, hardly able to stand feeling the younger male quake and shiver in his arms. "I can't do it,"

"Can't do what?" Nick asked softly, thankful that they were in Grissom's office and not outside somewhere where the lab could see him. Had they been elsewhere, Greg wouldn't be receiving this kind of comfort, this kind of physical contact.

"This…job, this shift, anything."

Sure that his heart was close to breaking, Nick swallowed and unconsciously tightened his grip on Greg. "You…You're not leaving are you?" Nick had already lost many people in his life, and he wasn't sure he was ready to let go of another so soon.

"No. No, I'm… I'm requesting days. If that doesn't work out, I'm going to see about working in San Francisco. My mom says she knows some people that might be able to help me out." Greg pulled away from Nick and coughed, already feeling the awkwardness settling in.

The sound of Greg's beeper stopped Nick from starting in on some mushy crap about Nick always being there to help if Greg ever needed him, and the Texan was almost glad that he was interrupted. Selfish thoughts of needing Greg aside, Nick knew that now wasn't the time or the place. "Grissom. He's calling me to the scene."

Unsure if he could let Greg walk out without some sort of confirmation, Nick reached for his arm, but the blonde was too quick this time, and Nick's fingers grasped at the air where Greg had been standing seconds before.

A month or so passed until Greg realized that there was no way he could handle a day shift job. 8 years of working nightshift and overtime on nightshift. The sleeping pills didn't help, only made things more difficult because he forgot to take them and when he finally did, it was much too late and he fought the rest of the night to keep himself awake.

Luckily, he had Grissom on his side, keeping him from being fired based on coming in late. Though Grissom was helping, Greg knew that Grissom wasn't supportive of his new "lifestyle" in the least.

He'd already called his mother to secure a guest bedroom and he'd booked the movers, all that was left was to collect the things from his locker. He wasn't entirely sure why he had left it until last when every cell in his body was screaming for him to do it slowly and day by day.

He gathered the last of his things, took his apartment key off his keychain, and dropped it off at the apartment office before he made his way to the lab, dreading every moment that was about to come.

Greg knew that everyone was going to be disappointed and sad and surprised that he left, though he could only imagine that Nick was going to be the one least excited about it. If his hug in Grissom's office was any indication that Nick cared about him, even in a platonic way, then Greg had no doubts about Nick's reaction to his leaving.

What he didn't expect was a banner reading "We'll Miss You, Greg!" across the break room, complete with a good portion of the nightshift team. "What…?"

"Didn't think we'd let you leave without a proper sendoff, did you?" Catherine asked, dropping her arm around his shoulders. Greg glanced around at the smiling faces and looked at her. "Grissom let it slip accidentally." Her arm now gone from his shoulders, Catherine crossed her arms and stared at him. "But what made you think that you could go without telling anyone?"

"I told Grissom," Greg said defensively. "And Nick knew bits and pieces of it." Catherine shook her head.

"Greg, I don't know what it was that made you think we wouldn't understand your reasons for leaving, but…I want you to know, we're here for you, even if you're in California."

He decided silence throughout most of the party would make others suspicious, so he tried to make conversation with his ex-co-workers, but deep down, he knew failure wasn't all that far out of reach and that he'd get there eventually.

Twenty minutes later, when the team was forced to go back to their jobs, Greg allowed goodbye hugs and kisses, and excused himself from the few people remaining to clean out his locker.

He'd already sat down on the bench to take the tape off the backs of the photos when Nick sat beside him. "You're really doing this, aren't you? You're really leaving for Francisco."

Taking a deep breath, Greg nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am."

He didn't expect to have arms wrapped around him, and Greg let himself get lost in the feeling for a few moments, letting his mind live out the remaining pieces of its fantasy for what he hoped to be one of the final times.

"Nick?"

"I…" Nick pulled away and coughed awkwardly. "Look, G, I…"

Biting down his hopes, Greg swallowed. "Nick, if this isn't important, can you save it? I mean, I… I don't need anything else, and I'd appreciate it if…" His first response to Nick's lips on his was denial. It wasn't happening, he was dreaming, fantasizing, whatever…But it wasn't real. His next response would have normally been to pull away, but he'd been waiting, wishing, for this to happen since, well, since he met Nick, and there wasn't a chance in hell that he would let this go.

So he pressed back, reaching a hand up to grip Nick's neck and pull him closer. In the back of his mind, Greg knew he shouldn't have been doing it, he should've been cleaning out his locker and leaving and getting away, but his entire world was revolving around the feeling of Nick's lips on his, and damn him if that didn't feel amazing.

Moments passed and when Nick finally pulled away, the first thing to leave Greg's mouth was "I'm still going to San Francisco."

"I wasn't going to try to stop you, Greg." Greg tried to pretend like that didn't hurt, and turned back to his task, willing himself to focus. Silence fell between them and Greg gave up on hope that Nick might actually want him when Nick's hand suddenly fell on his shoulder.

"Are you going to give me a reason to stay in Vegas?" Greg questioned softly, staring down at the photos clutched in his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut after he heard himself ask, and shook his head. "Never mind. I don't really want to know anyway."

"What are you talking about?" Nick didn't sound pissed, but he didn't sound like what Greg said had been welcomed, either.

Swallowing and breathing in deeply, Greg turned his head to look at Nick, daring to ask again. "Are you going to give me a reason to stay?" When Nick still looked confused, Greg attempted a different approach. "Is there anything… between us… That I should be staying in Vegas for?"

Realization dawning on him, Nick licked his lips and broke eye contact, sitting next to Greg on the bench. "I… I can't do that to Aimee."

Greg nodded and stood up to clear the rest of his locker. "Right. Okay."

Nick stood as well, dropping a hand to Greg's shoulder. "Don't leave Vegas angry at me, G." Hardly able to contain his anger at the Texan for leading him on and making him think there might be a chance, Greg bit down hard on his tongue, hoping that the pain would keep him from tearing Nick's head off. "G…"

"Whatever. I'm not mad. I've been waiting years for that and if you're just going to lead me on, that's your choice. I already know that nothing's going to happen."

Surprised at Greg's outburst, Nick's hand dropped from Greg's shoulder. "What are you—Greg, I don't—"

Shaking his head, Greg let out a humorless chuckle. "You can't tell me that you never got it? It all went over your head?" Confused expression back on Nick's face, Greg sighed and shook his head dejectedly. "Don't worry about it. Must've been in my head." He closed his locker and took the pile of photos from the bench, leafing through them until he found a picture of the two of them. The memory of the night was still fresh in his mind, remembering how Nick couldn't stop smiling, how Greg couldn't stop feeling like he was living in his dreams. He'd just passed his final proficiency, and he thought at the time he may have actually had a chance. "Here." He pressed the photo into Nick's shaking hands and sighed.

Nick took a moment to look at the photo before looking back up at Greg. "I shouldn't… You can…"

"I've got digital copies of all the photos. You can keep it." Greg let the other words hang in the air, hoping he wouldn't have to say anymore than he already had. He'd risked more in the last ten minutes than he had the ten years he'd worked at the lab.

"Keep it as what?" Nick's accent was starting to show through, tears forming in his eyes, but Greg didn't feel any kind of pity – not really.

"As a reminder."

"What are you talking about, a reminder?"

Greg started walking towards the door hoping that no one would see him crying. "Of what you could've had." He didn't wait for a response, leaving the break room and walking as quickly as he could without making any kind of scene.

He reached his car before he heard Nick's angered voice behind him. "Of what I could have had?! What the hell are you talking about?!"

Setting his belongings where he found room in his car, Greg turned back to face Nick. "You know, you just don't want to admit it." He watched Nick fume for a moment before continuing.

"I—"

Greg closed his eyes and held up a hand to stop him. "Don't you dare try to tell me that you didn't have some sort of physical or romantic feelings for me, because that kiss sure as hell wasn't platonic."

Nick seemed to calm down at that, but he didn't make any move to try to get Greg to stay. "I wasn't going to."

"So then why can't you just admit that we might have had something going for us?"

Defeated, Nick sighed. "Yes. Okay? We maybe had something."

"If you can admit it, why didn't you fucking do something about it?"

Nick licked his lips and looked anywhere but at Greg. "I couldn't…I can't do it. I can't have a relationship with you."

Greg shook his head and scoffed, but deep down started to understand. "Why not?"

Nick looked up at him incredulously and let out a halfhearted laugh. "With my family? I'd be…"

Unable to come to terms with the fact that Nick chose his family over happiness, he climbed into the driver's seat of his car. "I'm really glad I never tried."

"What?"

"You're…You're in so deep, Nick. If you'd really rather keep your family happy than letting yourself enjoy happiness, whatever. I'm just glad I don't have to be a part of it any longer." Nick stopped the door before Greg had the chance to slam it shut.

"How can you be so sure that you're the one that's supposed to make me happy?"

Greg shrugged. "I don't," he said simply, starting his car, hand on the gearshift. "But now I guess we'll never know, huh?"

Greg Sanders regretted little in his life, but he knew the second he left Nick Stokes in the Las Vegas Crime Lab parking lot that he'd never forgive himself for doing it.

--
"Wake up; you're going to be late for Herbert's graduation!"

Making a mental note to get a move on with finding a place to live in San Francisco, Greg pulled the pillow over his head and yelled to his mother, "I don't even know Herbert!"

He sighed as the door unlocked and his mother opened the door, having unlocked it with a can opener. "Greg, he's your cousin, your only cousin—"

Throwing the pillow to the floor, Greg cursed under his breath and swung his feet out from under the covers. "Alright, alright, I'm going…Can't even get any rest in this house, no wonder I left Francisco…"

Greg's mother sighed and settled her hands on her hips, biting her lip as she watched her only son stand from his bed. "Greg, I know it was hard for you to make the decision to move back in with us and I know that you are a grown man and are capable of making your own decisions, you proved that when you moved to Vegas, but you're under my roof and until you move back out, you'll listen to what I have to say."

"Mom, please." Greg pressed his face into his palms before staring at the floor in front of him. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

Jennifer sighed again before nodding and studying her son. "What happened in Vegas, dear? The first time we heard from you after moving, you said you never wanted to leave."

"I didn't," Greg said softly, continuing to stare at the floor. His mother sat down beside him, opening her mouth to make a comment, but Greg interrupted her. "Mom, I'm not going to talk about it, okay?"

"Greg, it's not healthy to—" Standing up and heading to the bathroom, Greg cut her off by closing the door, a satisfying bang reaching his ears. He wasn't ready to talk about anything that had happened, and even if he was, he sure as hell wasn't going to say anything to his mother.

"And he's Valedictorian, highest in his grade, we're so proud. He's going to Harvard for college…" Greg began tuning the college talk out, wishing he could go back to his Stanford years and make different decisions. With the knowledge he had now, not only would he get even better grades than he had, he'd know that Vegas wasn't the best choice.

"Are you Greg Sanders?"

Greg turned at the sound of his name, facing a young girl with glasses. "Yes…"

"Oh my God!" Greg had never experienced a full-on fangirl before, but he never thought that he'd experience it firsthand. "I've read some of your papers, you're…You're a genius! It's such an honor to meet you!"

"Uh…" Greg scratched his head awkwardly, shaking the girl's hand with his right hand. "Thanks?"

"I wrote a paper on you for one of my government classes, mainly about the ruling on your case with Demetrius James."

What was left of Greg's good mood faded as he heard the familiar name, but he smiled and tried to act interested. "I'm…I'm honored, I never thought that students would be writing about me."

"I received full marks on it, my professor was very impressed."

"Glad I was of service," Greg mumbled, scratching his head and looking around for his mother, who was waving at him frantically from the entrance. "I've got to go, but it was nice meeting you,"

"It was nice meeting you, too." The girl giggled as she left and Greg made his way to his parents.

"Greg, Herbert has invited us to his graduation party next weekend and was wondering if he should add another attendee to his guest list?"

"Uh," Greg stalled, swallowing as he looked back and forth from the recent high school graduate and his mother, expectant expression on her face. Thinking quickly, Greg cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I was going to request time off at work and head back up to Vegas this weekend, see some of my coworkers and how the lab's holding up without me." The words pained him to say, but if he wanted to live through staying with his mother, he had to lie once in a while.

"Vegas? I thought you left for a reason?"

Scared that the disbelief would turn into something much, much nastier, Greg nodded. "I did. But everyone doesn't have to suffer just because of one little thing that happened."

His mother frowned and excused them from Herbert's company. "Greg, is everything alright?" Almost starting to laugh, Greg nodded and held up a hand to stop his mother from talking. She frowned again and grabbed his wrist, yanking it down and glaring at him. "If there's something wrong and you're not telling me about it…"

"Mother, there's nothing wrong, will you please stop worrying?"

Jennifer let go of his wrist but enveloped him in a hug. Greg rolled his eyes and embraced her back, unable to relieve himself of the physical contact. "You're my son, Greg; it's my job to worry about you."

"Mom, you just said this morning—"

"Oh, screw what I said this morning," Jennifer wiped her eyes and to anyone else, it may have seemed as though she was crying for Herbert. "I still worry about you Greg, and with that Demetrius James boy and the lab fire…"

"God, what is it with you people tonight? Did I miss the memo about "let's bring up Greg's past" night?" A confused expression crossed Jennifer's face and she pulled away from Greg, resting her hands on his shoulders. Greg shrugged them off and shook his head. "Never mind, it doesn't matter."

Jennifer bit her lip and asked, "Are you sure it's a good idea to return to Vegas so soon after you left?"

Greg let out a frustrated growl and threaded his fingers through his hair. "Yes! It's fine, nothing's going to happen, will you just fucking listen to me?"

"Don't take that tone with me. I'm your mother, and you should respect me."

Sighing, Greg nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry, I'm just…I'm stressed. This move has really taken a lot out of me."

"I know, sweetie, I know." Jennifer wiped her eyes and hugged Greg again. "And if you want to visit Vegas, or even move back, I'll support you through it all, and your father will too."

"I appreciate that Mom, I really do." Greg pulled away and smiled. "I'll go home and call work, pack, and get a plane ticket. Love you." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and smiled, scared and excited about his lie turning into truth.

"You too. Have fun in Vegas!"

"Nick!" Aimee yelled from the bathroom, Nick sitting at his kitchen table, phone open in his hand. "Nick!"

The second yell got his attention, and he snapped his phone shut and set it on the table as he yelled back. "Yeah?"

The door opened slowly and Aimee held up a small stick. "I'm pregnant."

--

"I don't understand, how…How?"

"Most people have unprotected sex when they're pregnant."

"No, I mean, why'd they have unprotected sex in the first place? Nick's responsible; he wouldn't do that unless he really wanted a child."

Catherine stirred her coffee and shrugged, peering back up at Greg, who was currently too shocked by the news to continue his breakfast. "You're really confused about this, aren't you?" Watching Greg nod, she rolled her eyes. "Men."

"I just…" Was it really that hard on him to admit we could've had something? "I'm really," Greg paused and shook his head. "Doesn't matter, though, huh? Not really any of my business since I moved back to San Francisco anyway."

Trying to read his expression, Catherine swallowed the last of her coffee and studied his body language a moment before asking, "Is something going on between you and Nick?"

"What?" Greg fumbled for his coffee, effectively tipping it over and watching as it poured off the table into his lap. "Oh, shit," he fumbled for napkins and attempted to dab the hot liquid from his pants while denying that Nick and him had anything "going on." Catherine smirked and crossed her arms on the table.

As he glanced back up at Catherine, Greg sighed and dropped the wet napkins onto the table. "Not really. I mean, maybe if he didn't worry about what his family would say, maybe we could've had something. But…"

She nodded. "He does, and he's not willing to give up his family for you." Greg shrugged and shifted the remaining food across his plate. "Is that why you left Vegas? To get away from him?"

"Kind of," Greg muttered.

A few moments of silence passed, save for the "thank you" from Catherine and Greg when a waitress came to give more coffee and help clean up the mess Greg had made, until Catherine said, "They're getting married." She reached for Greg's coffee in hopes that he wouldn't repeat the accident.

"…Married?" Swearing she could see Greg's heart break with those words, she reached across the table and grasped his hand. "He's getting married?" Not wanting to be rude, Greg carefully pulled his hand from Catherine's and stood up, unable to handle the physical contact. "I, I have to go, I'll see you later?"

Catherine watched him leave a twenty on the table and sighed as he left, staring at the bill in front of her.

--

"I don't understand, how could you be pregnant, we've taken extra precautions every single time, there's—"

"Nicky, it happens," Aimee said for what felt like the millionth time. No matter what she or her doctors said, Nick couldn't get it through his head. "Why is it such a hard concept for you to grasp? Women get pregnant; it's what we're here for, sweetie. To keep men in line and to keep the population up."

Nick sighed and sank down into a chair, rubbing his hands across his face. "I'm sorry; I'm not being very supportive." He smiled at Aimee, trying to keep his eyes on her face but eventually dropped them to her abdomen, hating the butterflies that immediately started fluttering around as he stared. "Uh, I have to…I'll be home later, okay?" He stood up and grabbed his cell from the kitchen table. "Love you, call me if you need me, yeah?"

Aimee reached a hand out over the back of the couch in a weak attempt to stop him, but by the time she called out, "Nick, wait a second!" he was already gone. She let out a deep breath and stared down at her belly. "If he does this throughout our marriage, I don't know if I'll be able to put up with it." Smiling, she rubbed at her stomach. "Guess I just bagged a confusing guy, huh?"

--

Greg hadn't done much since he left Catherine, mainly wandered around the parts of Vegas he knew, hoping to get his mind off Nick and Aimee, their unborn child, and their marriage. Unfortunately, Vegas only continued to remind him of Nick and what could've happened if he didn't have his roots so deeply embedded into his values.

Pausing to tie his shoe, Greg realized that Nick was standing across the street, talking on his cell phone. Assuming it was his fiancé, Greg tried not to act like he'd noticed him and continued with his wandering, hoping that Nick wouldn't notice, and if he did, he wouldn't feel the need to come over and talk to him.

"Greg?" Damn it.

He turned around to face him, not even bothering to fake a smile. "Nick."

Greg had hardly expected Nick to say hello, so a hug caught him completely off guard. Apparently, it had surprised Nick as well, if the blush on his face after pulling away was any indication of his discomfort. "I didn't know you were in Vegas!"

Nodding and trying not to stare at his shoes too long, Greg said, "Yeah, yeah...Stopped in for a visit, figured you guys at the lab wouldn't be able to handle going too long without seeing me." Nick stood silently for a moment before he sighed and ran a hand over his hair.

"I don't think I can pretend nothing happened, G," he said softly.

Greg nodded again before pointing behind him. "I…I should go, then. It was…Nice running into you."

"No, wait." Nick grabbed his arm lightly, keeping him where he was. "Just…Can we talk, maybe?"

Greg paused, only to stare at the man in front of him. "Talk? About what?" Nick broke eye contact and Greg laughed. "Nicky, if you can't even say it—"

"Can we talk about…This? Us?"

Eyebrows raising, Greg shook his head. "There is no us, Nick. You made that crystal clear when I left Vegas. I don't think there's anything we need to talk about anyway." He turned to leave again, but Nick still had a hand on his arm, and he couldn't do much with Nick's fingers digging into his wrist.

"I'm sorry, I…I really…" Nick sighed and let go of Greg's wrist. "Please."

Greg continued to stare at the desperate man in front of him before nodding his head. "Yeah. Okay."

Despite having just left Catherine at a coffee shop, Greg was outside of a yet another, staring into the cup of brown liquid in his hands. Nick had yet to start talking, and while part of Greg wanted to patch things up, part of him wished that he could let Nick go.

Fifteen minutes into their "talk" and Nick hadn't said a word. "Look, if you're not going to say anything, maybe its best we just let it go."

"No!" Nick's hand rested on Greg's wrist, and Greg stared down at it as he continued. "No, I really want to talk about it, I just, I don't know where to start."

"Beginning maybe?" When Nick still didn't begin, Greg smiled sadly. "I told you there wasn't anything to say. Can we please cut the act and go back to not talking?"

Nick stared down at his coffee for what seem like forever before he finally nodded. "Okay."

Feeling his heart crack just a little more, Greg nodded in response and stood up, handing him a five dollar bill to pay for his coffee. "I'll see you," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving.

--

Tossing and turning in his hotel room that night, Greg found his body being much more high maintenance than he ever remembered. He was too hot, too cold, too awake, too itchy, whatever. Almost three in the morning and he hadn't slept at all. Deep down, he knew that the only reason he wasn't getting sleep was his conversation with Nick, if you could even call it that.

He got out of bed and walked to the sink, splashing water on his face as an attempt to cool off, even though he knew that if he would lie back down, he'd just freeze or heat up again.

He sat in one of the chairs at the table and switched on the TV, turning the volume down and trying to find something that would keep his interest. Just as he found an old 80's cartoon, his phone rang.

Used to so many years of answering telephones at three in the morning, he picked it up without a thought. "Sanders,"

"Greg." Immediately, Greg muted the TV and swallowed, telling himself that Nick was only calling because he had forgot something or because he wanted to wish him good luck in Francisco or…

"How'd you get my number?" Since he was no longer working at the LV crime lab, he'd had to change his number when the Francisco crime lab employed him.

"I got it from Catherine. She said that you probably wouldn't want to hear from me and… You told her what's going on, didn't you?"

Already frustrated with Nick, Greg ran a hand through his hair and sighed into the phone as Nick spoke. "Does it matter? And she figured it out on her own, it's not like we were…" He swallowed again and fell silent. "But it really doesn't matter. Nothing's going to happen anyway, right?" Greg tried to laugh, but tears clouded his eyes and it sounded much closer to a sob.

"I made a huge mistake."

Greg swallowed again and closed his eyes, thankful that he wasn't at home with his parents; if only his mother could see him now.

"I never should have let you leave."

Surprised that Nick was admitting something so openly, Greg opened his eyes and pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream. "Where's Aimee?"

"She's at her parent's place for the week. Why?"

"I'm wondering if your girlfriend knows you're gay or if it's a secret from her."

Nick was silent for a few minutes and Greg thought about hanging up, but as he reached for the 'end' button on his phone, he began again.

"I made a mistake. A huge mistake and I'm never going to forgive myself for not saying anything, for saying that I couldn't…" Greg heard a sharp intake of breath over the line and instinctively trying to calm his own breathing. "And God, if Aimee wasn't pregnant, I'd go to San Francisco and try to patch things up, I'd try to make things better, but…" Nick let the sentence hang, and Greg cleared his throat.

"Did you mean to get her pregnant?" he asked softly.

Nick sighed and said, "I don't know what I meant to do."

"Oh."

Another few moments of silence passed before Nick said, just loud enough that Greg could make out the words, "I love you. I always have."

Unable to process the thought, Greg asked, "Is there a chance we could… You know?"

It's in the lack of hesitancy, how easily the answer came to Nick's lips, that helped Greg realize that there wasn't a chance, not as long as Nick was still with Aimee. "No."

Greg left the next morning for San Francisco, Nick's late night phone call still fresh on his mind. He didn't sleep at all, but it wasn't like he expected it. His body was under far too much stress, and his mind was under even more.

He boarded the plane and stared out the window the entire flight back home.

Months passed, and Greg kept in touch with a few of his old co-workers, though most of what they had to say was about Nick and Aimee, their forthcoming daughter, their wedding… Eventually, Greg asked not to hear about them, and he was sure that word traveled fast among his old friends that he had something for Nick.

As an attempt to get over his eight year long crush on Nick, and as a challenge from Catherine and Wendy, Greg tried dating. But there was always some tiny flaw, something that no matter how hard Greg tried, he couldn't overlook. He kept telling himself that it wasn't because they weren't Nick, that it wasn't because they didn't have brown eyes or a southern accent or brown hair or any of the attributes that Nick had, but when it came right down to it, Greg was finding dating harder and harder to deal with.

Try as he might, there was no getting over Nick Stokes.

--

From Greg's calculations, it was a month until Aimee was due, and Greg hadn't heard from Nick since the phone call in the hotel room. No one had said a word about Nick or Aimee for a good month and a half, and while he was thankful about that, he was still curious about how things were going. Nick had done a great job of hiding the fact that he was gay his entire life, and while Greg really wanted it to blow up in his face, some part of him was glad that Nick was happy. At least, happy that he was pleasing his family.

When he got the call from Wendy, he'd just gotten off a triple shit and was about to crash on his couch with daytime TV playing in the background; luckily, he'd moved out of his parents house two weeks or so after his return from Vegas.

Unfortunately, before he was out enough to ignore the phone, it started vibrating and blasting "Feel like Makin' Love" at the highest volume.

"Sanders," he yawned. The teen on the TV had just discovered that her aunt was actually her male-to-female biological father.

"Greg, I'm so glad I caught you."

The quiver in her voice got his attention right away. "What, what's up?"

"I know you didn't want to hear anything about Nick or Aimee, but I really think you'd want to hear about this."

Greg shut off the TV and straightened on the couch. "Okay, whatever, what happened?"

"Aimee was in a car accident last night."

"Oh my God." Greg let out a slow breath and cleared his throat. "Is, is she okay?"

Wendy was quiet for a moment before she said, "There were two casualties." Greg's heart nearly stopped as he thought, Nick. "Both Aimee and her baby died."

"Oh my God," Greg repeated. Nick was alive. Alive. And okay, and living and breathing and God, Greg felt like an asshole because Nick was okay. And Aimee was dead. "How, how's Nick holding up?"

"Not well. Catherine only knew about it because she was first on the scene before Ecklie took her off because of personal reasons. We haven't heard from him."

"Anyone try to call him?"

"Robert tried for almost an hour, and he didn't pick up once."

"Does he know?"

"He hasn't been into work."

Greg's heartbeat slowed down and he swallowed. "How do you know he's…He's…?"

"Grissom had a message on his machine."

He let out a quiet, relieved ha and nodded, though Wendy couldn't see him. "You, you didn't mention that when you said no one had heard from him."

"Sorry. Kind of hard to wrap my head around."

"Yeah." Greg ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Wendy. For…Calling."

"I just figured it'd be something you'd want to know." Greg knew she was dying to ask are you going to do anything?, but he wasn't going to offer any information and he knew that she wasn't going to actually ask him, so he let it drop.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Greg sat on his couch for a moment or two before he stood up and grabbed a bag from the hallway closet, and set to work on packing as many clothes as he could, simultaneously calling his boss and telling him that a family emergency had come up, and that he wouldn't be able to make it into work for a while.

By the time he realized that Nick might not want to see him, he was halfway to Vegas and didn't exactly have the option of changing his mind.

--

When he arrived, he hailed a cab and, without thinking, gave the driver Nick's address. Soon, he was standing on Nick's doorstep, bag at his feet, and his hand hovering over the doorbell. What if Nick really didn't want to see him? He could kick him out, could call the police, and Greg would have wasted the money for a plane ticket to Vegas to see a guy who didn't even want to see him. Nick had made no effort to contact him over the past few months, and while Greg hadn't either, he wasn't exactly the one who was begging to fix their screwed up friendship.

Just as he closed his eyes and pressed the doorbell, the door swung open and he was met with a very beat looking Nick Stokes. "I…I heard about Aimee," Greg said, swallowing and hoping that he wouldn't start babbling.

"I figured." Greg let go of the backpack slung over his shoulder and stepped forward to hug Nick, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close.

"I'm sorry." He sighed as Nick's arms snaked around his waist, and Greg closed his eyes and imagined this was happening under much happier circumstances.

"I'm sorry, too."

"I meant I'm sorry about Aimee."

"I'm sorry about everything."

Greg bit his lip and tightened his arms around Nick's neck. "I'm sorry about everything, too."

"So how long do you plan on staying?" Nick asked later, coffee already well on the way to brewing.

Greg shifted in his chair, not daring to look up at Nick. "Uh, as long as I feel I should? But, you know, if you'd rather I not be here…"

Nick cleared his throat. "No, no, it's fine, there's a guest room you can sleep in, and there's always the couch…" Nick trailed off and turned back around to pour out coffee into two mugs.

"Have plans been made for the funeral?" Nick shot a look to Greg. "Come on, you didn't really expect it to just go away, did you?"

Nick sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Her parents have it covered."

Surprised that it didn't take more to get Nick to talk about Aimee, Greg took a long drink of coffee before he asked, "Do you, do you want me to go?"

He was quiet for hardly a second before saying, "Yeah." Nick nodded, and Greg watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. "Yeah, I…I want you to go."

Greg nodded, taking another drink of coffee. Setting down the mug, he continued nodding. "Okay."

--

Hours later, while Nick was still working on the same cup of coffee, Greg had gone through two or three pots on his own, and felt he had enough energy to last him the rest of his life. "Hey, Nick? You, you don't have any, any food."

"Yeah, I haven't gone grocery shopping for the last two weeks."

"What've you been eating?"

"Uh, take-out."

Greg's lips twitched and he tried to hide his smile. "Oh yeah? A health nut like you has been eating take-out for the last two weeks?"

"Actually, I was only eating take-out before…"

Damn it, Greg thought, watching Nick's shoulders slump as he was reminded, yet again, of Aimee. Can't you think of something that isn't going to depress him? "Ah. So, what, what are you eating now?" Feeling that Nick's silence couldn't possibly be a good thing, Greg moved from the cupboards where he was searching and dropped into the chair next to him. "So you haven't eaten in the last two days?" Nick shifted and shook his head, refusing to meet Greg's eyes. "It's been longer than two days? When did you stop eating?"

"About a week ago, when Aimee left for her parents," Nick muttered.

Putting together pieces, Greg licked his lips and stared down at the table. "Nick, was, was everything…okay before the accident?" He watched as Nick inhaled and exhaled a few times. Greg's hand twitched as though it appeared to think touching Nick would be a good attempt to comfort him, but he hid it under the table and swallowed.

"I, uh, I think Aimee was cheating on me," Nick said, much calmer than Greg would have ever expected him to be. "I came home from work one morning, and she had, uh, she'd given a few of her friends my number, in case they called her house and she wasn't there." Nick rubbed a hand across his face, breathing in through his nose a few times before he continued. "Anyway, I checked messages because I'd been expecting one from my mom to hear how my dad's surgery went, and this guy left a message about how he'd had a great night with Aimee and how he was looking forward to seeing her again."

Feeling that the timeline was a little off, Greg asked, "When'd you get it?"

"The day Aimee left for her parents. She went because we were having this huge fight," Nick trailed off and shook his head. "I think he'd called a few times before that."

"Would that mean that Aimee was having sex while she was pregnant? With your…" Greg stopped himself. "It wasn't your kid." Nick shook his head again. "Did she ever come out and say that to you?"

"Before she left for her parents? No. She kept saying that she'd been completely loyal to me since we started dating, and that she'd never do anything to hurt me." Nick snorted half-heartedly and looked up to meet Greg's eyes. "She kept telling me that she loved me. I had half the mind to believe her."

Greg nodded, and the two of them fell silent while Greg processed that. He shifted in his seat and met Nick's eyes again. "How far along was she?"

"Pretty far along. She kept talking about how happy she was to be having a child, and now, now she'll never get the chance." Fearing that Nick would have some sort of emotional breakdown and Greg wouldn't know what to do, Greg stood up and held out a hand.

"I think that alcohol would be a great decision right about now."

Nick stared at Greg's hand, looking a little skeptical. "I haven't eaten anything…"

Greg tried to appear nonchalant, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. "So it'll get you drunk faster, yeah? Come on, do you really want to mope around about everything all day?"

"Well, no…"

"So let's go!"

"But I don't want to become an alcoholic either!"

Greg frowned at him before shaking his hand in front of Nick's face. "I won't let you become an alcoholic," he said, feeling as though he had just sentenced Nick to a lifetime of friendship with Greg. "This is just for the night; it'll make things loads easier to talk about. And I know you're not about to spill your guts, regardless of how…openly emotional you are."

Seeing Nick glare at him, Greg smiled sadly. "Come on, you're never going to continue on in life if you don't have someone to help you through this."

"That's what therapists are for, Greg."

Exasperated, Greg dropped his hand. "Your therapist doesn't love you like…" He trailed off, realizing what he'd just said, and hoped that Nick wouldn't ask him to repeat it. Instead, Nick nodded and stood up.

"We're not going to a bar, are we?"

"Not if you don't want to." Nick shook his head and Greg nodded. "Alright, we'll head to a liquor store and pick up some beer, bring it back and get you drunk."

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Greg," Nick said, half frowning. Greg still veered from physical contact, but felt that a smile couldn't hurt.

"Hey, if anything happens, I'm here, right? You start throwing up, I'll be there to make sure it doesn't dry into your carpet. You pass out, I'm here to make sure that you don't choke on your own vomit. You get alcohol poisoning—"

Nick let out a quiet chuckle and pointed to the door. "Alright, alright, I get your point. Let's just get this over with so that I can get you off my back."

"Alright, fair enough."

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--

"You're not drinking anything," Nick said, his words already starting to slur together. "I thought that the plan was for both of us to get drunk."

Greg smiled and raised the bottle of water to his lips. "I'm not the one who needs it."

"I don't need it either, but you don't hear me complaining." Nick took a long drink from the bottle in his hand before he asked, "Why'd you come back?"

"I think there's not quite enough alcohol in either of us for that question, Nick." Greg said, hoping that Nick really wouldn't keep going with it and demand an answer.

"No, I'm serious, why'd you come back? I was such a dick to you."

Surprised, Greg leaned forward and said, "I think you've gotten the two of us mixed up. I was a dick to you.'

"No, no, I kept calling you, seeing you, begging to talk to you, and all you wanted to do was leave. I told you I love you and when you asked if there was ever a chance, I said no…" Nick shook his head and took another drink before continuing. "I'm sorry."

Having tried to put pieces of that conversation away forever and obviously failing, Greg smiled sadly and raised his water bottle to his lips. "I'll give you that, alright?" He hadn't even set the bottle down on the end table before Nick was next to him, eyes soft. "Uh, Nick?"

"I wasn't lying," he said softly, keeping eye contact.

"Uh, lying about what?"

"When I said I loved you, I wasn't lying."

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Greg tried to move away from Nick, who seemed to be getting closer with ever second. "Good, good to know." When Nick started to lean forward, he pushed at his shoulders and tried to get his heart to slow down. "Look, you're drunk, right? And you just lost your fiancée in a car accident; I really don't think this is a good time to start something up between us." While he knew he was doing the right thing, Greg felt his heart break a little bit more. Was it possible that they'd never get a chance?

"Yeah. I, yeah, I guess you're right. Uh, I think-I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"What about—"

Nick coughed and said, "If there's anything you need to know, I'll tell you tomorrow, alright? Obviously you're here because you care, and I'm not going to just brush you off like this isn't a big deal."

Greg nodded and said, "Do you want me to, uh…?"

"Stay in the room? I think I'll be okay." Seeing the skeptical expression on Greg's face, Nick added, "I know where to find you if I need you. I'll be alright."

Still not sure he should leave him alone, Greg nodded. "Alright. I'll be on the couch, and if you need anything—"

"I know. 'Night, Greg."

Watching the man retreat to his bedroom, Greg replied, "Goodnight."

Greg knew that the next morning was going to be hell, but he didn't expect it to be as bad as it was. Within moments of taking Advil or Tylenol, Nick was throwing up again. His stomach refused to handle anything at all, and while Greg felt bad that he'd been the one to get him so drunk, he couldn't help but feel good about the fact that Nick hadn't said a word about, and probably hadn't thought anything about, Aimee since last night. Greg could only imagine he was too busy focusing on keeping his lungs down.

Finally, after it had been silent in Nick's bedroom for an hour or two, Greg knocked softly on the door, surprised to see Nick lying on his bed. "Nick?"

"Mmhfp," he mumbled, face pressed into his pillow. Lifting his head just enough for Greg to hear him, Nick says, "You're not allowed to buy me alcohol again."

"Yeah, I figured. How are you feeling?" Greg closed the door behind him before moving to the edge of the bed and sitting down.

"Great, I feel great." Nick opened his eyes to look at Greg, who was trying desperately not to laugh. "It's not funny, alright? This could be serious!"

"It's not serious. At the most, you ended up with the flu and a hangover. If it you can't keep anything down in a few hours, you can start worrying."

"You sound like my mother," Nick groaned, shoving his face into his pillow. "Go away, let me rest in peace."

Greg smiled and cleared his throat. "Yeah, alright. I'll come back in here later with, I don't know, water or something. And are you on vacation or have you just been calling in sick?"

But Nick was already asleep, light snores almost echoing off the walls. Greg raised an eyebrow, but left the room so he could sleep in peace anyway.

He searched for Nick's phone, searching through contacts for Grissom's cell number once he found it.

"Gil Grissom."

"Hey, Griss, Nick's kind of…sick, he woke up with the flu, and I really don't think it'd be a good idea for him to come in tonight."

Greg picked at chipping paint on the end table, silence coming from Grissom's end. "Greg?"

Feeling like an idiot for not introducing himself first, Greg mentally slapped himself. "Yeah, it's Greg."

Grissom was silent for another moment before asking, "What are you doing in Vegas?"

Lie. Lielielielie. It'll only make matters worse if you tell him the truth. "There were some things I needed to take care of here, I figured I'd make a trip out of it, you know, and catch up with some friends."

"You shouldn't be getting friends intoxicated when they have to work the next day." How'd he know? Greg thought, trying to remember if he'd said anything already. "But, if you're in Vegas, maybe we could get together and have breakfast?"

Greg knew he wouldn't be able to say no to Grissom, and nodded to an empty room. "Sure, Grissom. Tomorrow? Great. Looking forward to it. I'll meet you at the lab. And I don't think Nick will be able to make it in for a while. There's kind of a family emergency."

As Greg hung up, he sunk into the couch. "First he's got the flu, then there's a family emergency? I may be the worst liar in the world." He set Nick's phone down on the end table.

"Grissom call?" Jumping at the sound of Nick's voice, Greg stood up and smiled weakly at the hung-over Texan.

"No, I called him to tell him you had a family emergency. What are you doing up?" he asked, rushing to help Nick into one of the kitchen chairs.

"You lose all sorts of stuff from throwing up, and I'm really not going to be any good for anything if I don't replenish.

Confused but willing to help, Greg asked, "What do you need?"

Nick waved his hand in the direction of the pantry. "Electrolytes. There's some sports drink in there, grab it for me, will you?" When Greg set it out on the table, Nick muttered a quiet, "Thanks," and downed half the bottle at once.

"Hey, careful! Your stomach isn't used to so much at one time, you have to pace yourself." Greg reached for the bottle but stopped his hand halfway. "Wow."

Nick took another drink before saying, "What?"

"I'm turning into my mother."

Nick smiled and set the bottle back on the table. "What are you going to do about that?"

"I'm going to tell you to drink as much as you want, consequences be damned." Nick chuckled and they fell silent for a while. "Sorry if I pushed you to drink. I guess it didn't really help, did it?"

"No, no, it was really helpful, thanks. It kept me from thinking, it was a nice vacation. And we should do it again, just…Not until after the funeral. I kind of think it'd be a good idea to be sober for that."

Greg nodded and Nick took another drink. "Right."

"Has anyone called? Aimee's parents are supposed to call with information about her funeral." He took another long drink as Greg shook his head. "Alright. Maybe I should call them. Maybe they forgot or something."

"They'll call. You were close to being their son-in-law, of course they'll call."

Nick seemed to process that for a moment. Just as Greg thought the topic was over, Nick moaned, "Oh my God, they're going to want to meet for breakfast."

"That reminds me, Grissom invitied me to have breakfast with him tomorrow, which…means that there's no way of me being available for you if you need me."

Nick shook his head. "No, it's better you don't come. I can't have her parents getting any ideas, they already hate me enough as it is. I'll call you if I need you."

Doing his best not to flinch at Nick's "I don't want her parents getting any ideas," Greg nodded again.

"I don't mean-I mean-," Nick sighed. "I don't want her parents thinking I was using her, Greg."

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Using her?" Nick looked down at the table. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"No, it kind of is." But Nick didn't continue, and Greg wondered if Nick was waiting to be asked. Just as he opened his mouth to question, Nick started speaking again. "I told Aimee that I loved her, and I did. I never lied about that. I guess…Looking back on it, I guess I don't really know if I cared about her or if I was in love with her. And besides that, she'd been cheating on me." Silence fell upon them again, and Nick took a moment to finish off the bottle before he continued, voice much quieter than it was before, like he was telling one of his deepest secrets. "Regardless of what I felt for Aimee, I've never fallen for someone as hard as I fell for you."

Greg felt his throat go dry, his hands start to shake, and he wasn't sure if he should hide his hands under the table or if he should cover up the smile forming on his face. "God, I…"

Nick laughed, a hint of sadness in his voice when he spoke again. "But it doesn't matter, right? You probably already found someone in Francisco."

Curious as to how everything had been going so well and fell apart so quickly, Greg spoke, anxious to fix things. "No. I've only been on a few dates. There hasn't been anything serious for a long time."

Nick's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Really."

"I thought you'd have all sorts of people crawling all over you in Francisco." Greg suppressed his smile at the tone of jealousy in Nick's voice.

"Oh, I do. I just don't date them."

"Why not?"

"Uh…" Greg looked away, his hands shaking harder than before. "Because, I, uh, I'm in love with you."

Nick smiled and turned away for a beat. "This has got to be one of the least interesting declarations of love ever."

"Yeah, no kidding," Greg mumbled, biting his lip to keep from smiling. "But at least there isn't rejection or any "I don't like you…like that" crap. And in all honesty, there's no way that I would have believed you if you told me you weren't in love with me."

Nick gaped at Greg. "What?"

"Oh come on. You were always standing next to me, touching me, staring at me…"

"If you knew I loved you, why'd you leave?"

Greg swallowed and shrugged. "Because you had Aimee. Even if I knew you loved me, I figured you'd never give up a normal life for me."

Nick turned in his seat and rested his elbows on the table. "How do you know that?"

Greg let out a humorless laugh. "Nick, you were dating Aimee. And don't get me wrong, I'm sure she was a nice girl, but did you ever really look at her? She was perfect, in all the right and wrong ways. Even if you were gay, I never thought you'd break up with her for…" Greg shook his head. "But let's not get on depressing topics, yeah? Life's already depressing enough right now."

Nick sighed and nodded, standing up to throw the empty bottle away. "And hey, maybe one day everything will fall into place and we'll live happily ever after." He smiled at Greg before he left the room, an image of that stuck in Greg's head.

"Yeah," Greg whispered to an empty room. "Maybe someday."

--

"So, how do you feel about being back in Vegas?" Grissom asked, peering over the top of his coffee mug at Greg.

"Uh, good. I kind of feel like I'm here more than San Francisco, actually, but when I look back it doesn't seem so long. And the Ecklie of Francisco kind of likes me, so…"

Raising an eyebrow, Grissom set down his mug. "And we didn't?"

Laughing nervously, Greg said, "No, you guys liked me, but… I guess he knows my heart will always be with Vegas and he really doesn't want to lose me." Greg glanced at Grissom, who was staring thoughtfully at his old employee.

"You know, Vegas will always have a spot for you. I'd even make sure you'd get raises and—,"

Greg waved the thought away. "It's not about the money. It's about being where I need to be." Grissom nodded.

"You know, the lab changed quite a bit since you left." He took another drink from his mug and nodded at Greg's scoff of disbelief. "No, really, you'd be surprised. Many of the pointless conversations are gone. Sure, Nick and Robert get along well, but it's nothing compared to the way he spoke to Warrick." He took a moment and Greg barely caught the twinkle in his eye as he said, "Or you."

Unable to hear another one of Grissom's speeches, Greg shook his head. "Sara and Warrick are gone too, didn't the lab change after they left?" Feeling his stomach clench at the thought, Greg shifted in his seat and made eye contact with Grissom.

"Sure. But you kept coming back."

"What are you getting at?"

"Home is where your heart is, Greg. And if part of your heart was left in Vegas, don't you wonder where your home is?"

Greg took a long drink of water before asking, "Are you trying to get me to move back to Vegas?"

"No. I'm trying to get you to ask yourself if you made the right choice."

"Shouldn't I know if I made the right choice?" Greg inquired, trying to decide if Grissom was trying to guilt him into moving back or not. Maybe there was some reason he was pushing, a problem that Grissom felt could be solved by Greg returning.

"Do you? Greg, you can't deny that you've been to Vegas a lot since you moved to San Francisco. Why do you think you keep coming back?" Smiling at the waitress as she brought the check, Grissom took a twenty from his wallet and set it on the table. "I do hope you have a good visit, Greg. We should do this again sometime."

As Greg left the diner, he couldn't help but wonder two things: how long had Grissom known, and when did he get so damn good at reading people?

--

Nick wasn't at home when Greg returned, but he'd given Greg a spare key to get in if such a situation arose. He found a note on the kitchen counter that said, Went to breakfast with Aimee's parents. They turned up without calling. There's beer in the bottom of the fridge, feel free to have some, I imagine that your breakfast with Grissom was probably filled with enough psychologically exhausting questions that you'll need it. Nick.

Greg checked the fridge, and, sure enough, there was beer stashed in the bottom. Instead of opening one, he went straight to the guest room and fell asleep.

When Greg woke up a few hours later, he found Nick just getting in. "How'd breakfast go?"

"Not so bad, actually, a lot better than I expected. Her parents were too overcome with grief to remember that they didn't like me all that much. Is there still beer?" he asked, eyebrow raised, gesturing to the fridge as he took off his coat.

Nodding, Greg sat down in the kitchen. "So, funeral plans all figured out?"

Nick reached into the bottom of the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer. "Yeah, they've got everything ready. They set it for Thursday. James said something about a wake, too, but I'm not sure when they planned that, he was mumbling…" He sat down next to Greg and asked, "You're still going with me, right?"

Greg nodded again, looking down at the beer Nick was holding. "Yeah, I'll still go with you. You know, as long as you want me there, I don't want anyone to think I'm intruding or anything, I mean, I didn't even know Aimee, not really, and—,"

"Hey!" Nick said, clamping a hand over Greg's mouth. "Of course I still want you to go. And they won't think that you're intruding, they'll just be happy to know that their daughter was so… popular. It's the kind of people they are." He took his hand from Greg's mouth.

"Popular? Seriously?"

Nick laughed and took a drink of his beer. "Yeah. Football cheerleader in high school, one of those really pretty girls that everyone hated but secretly wanted to be or date. They kept telling me about all the awards she won, you know? An insane amount, it was a little off-putting."

Greg smiled sadly, pulling his gaze away. "Just your type."

"Yeah." Nick set the bottle on the table as he added, "Not my only type, though." Greg turned his eyes back to Nick and took a deep breath, trying not to let the look in Nick's eyes give him too much hope.

"You have another type?" Nick smiled. "Alright, what's your other type?"

"Uh…" There was no way Greg could have missed the blush. "…You?"

Letting a grin slip through, Greg felt his own face heat up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Nick broke eye contact and chuckled. "I don't know. Because you're… You're you. You're so different from anyone I've ever met. And you care. So much more than Aimee ever could have, even before she cheated on me."

Greg smiled sadly as Nick stopped talking. "Did you ever get confirmation on that?"

"That she was cheating on me? They guy called back again. I'm pretty sure that she was doing something with the guy, if the context of his messages were anything to go by."

Flinching, Greg said, "Ouch. You know, I'm surprised you're handling everything so well. I thought you'd be a complete mess."

Nick shrugged before saying, "I've got you to thank for that. Without you, I really don't know how I'd be doing." He picked up his beer bottle before adding, "The funeral is going to be hell."

"Hey Greg, it's Frank. I know you said you had a family emergency and I know how important family is, but if you could call me back with an estimate on when you'll be back, that'd be great. Hope everything's alright. Bye."

"You told him you had a family emergency?" Nick asked, pulling out of his driveway as Greg closed his phone. The funeral was in an hour, and while Greg was certain no one would blame Nick if he was even a little late, Nick refused to walk in late. Greg almost wanted to argue, but Nick had been such a mess the night before that he didn't want to push it.

"It was the only way I could get him off my back. If I told him I was sick, he'd expect a note for this long." Greg decided to leave out the fact that he'd have to go back soon, but Nick obviously had other plans.

"When do you plan on going back?"

Greg took a deep breath, swallowed once or twice, and found a nice, neutral spot to stare at – one of the air vents – before replying. "Whenever, uh… Whenever you're alright, I guess."

"What if you lose your job?"

Smiling, Greg brought his gaze up to Nick's. "Frank doesn't want to lose me. It'd take quite a bit more to get me out of there, I think."

They traveled in silence for a while before Nick finally said, "I didn't want to lose you either."

Not sure what he should say to that, Greg licked his lips and nodded. "We have plenty of time to talk about that. Alright? You have far too much on your mind today, and adding another won't exactly help."

"I'm not adding something else to think about, you're always on my mind anyway."

Stunned, Greg actually had to force his mouth to say, "Really?"

Nick didn't respond, only pulled into the funeral home parking lot and parked the car. "We're here. You ready?"

Greg stared at him for a minute before asking, "Are you? Doesn't matter if I'm ready."

Nodding, Nick looked forward at the few people standing in front of the building. "Yeah. I think."

Greg peered up at the sign on the side of the funeral home and tried not to make it seem like a big deal when he said, "Aimee was Catholic?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've never been to a Catholic funeral before."

"It's not that different from a normal funeral. I've been to a lot." Nick stepped out of the truck, Greg undoing his seatbelt and opening his door quickly to catch up with him, already well on his way into the building.

"Isn't that kind of depressing?" Greg asked as he fell into step next to him. "I mean, I've only been to like, two, and I wish I hadn't even had to go to those."

Nick reached for one of the door handles at the main entrance and said, "People die, Greg. It's life. You can't get too down about it because someday someone you're really close to is going to go."

Surprised that Nick had such a strange outlook, Greg continued, "But they're gone. And you're never going to be able to see them again."

"That's kind of a selfish outlook on death. At least they're going to a better place."

"I guess." Greg shrugged, completely oblivious that he had fallen behind until Nick stopped walking and he ran right into him. "Sorry." Noticing that Nick hadn't moved, he looked up and saw Nick staring ahead of him. "What?" He followed his gaze and saw an old couple standing in front of the coffin.

Nick let out a ragged sigh and said, "My parents are here."

Greg looked closer and realized that he recognized the couple. "You didn't expect them to be here?"

Shaking his head, Nick admitted, "They said they'd go to the wake, not the funeral."

Greg felt like his stomach was dropping into his intestines. "Maybe it's not your parents then. And wouldn't they have wanted to see you while they were in Vegas?"

"It's my parents. No one has fashion like my mother." Based on his expression, Greg expected Nick to be feeling the same stomach-dropping-into-intestines as he was. "And I told them I needed some space."

Still watching Nick's parents, Greg said, "You didn't tell me you needed space."

"Yeah, maybe you were the space I needed."

Though confused, Greg just let himself smile and waved to Nick's parents when they turned around. Nick's mother let out a loud, almost embarrassing sob – and Greg probably would have been embarrassed if they weren't at a funeral – and ran into her son's arms. "Oh, Nicky, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what, Ma?"

"I'm sorry about your loss; she was such a sweet girl!"

Stunned that he hadn't told his parents about Aimee's cheating, he mouthed to Nick, "You haven't told her?"

Nick merely looked helpless and pulled away from his mother, handing her off to cry into his father's chest.

"I'm sorry about her. I know this must be embarrassing for you-,"

"It's a funeral. She has every right to be emotional." Nick's father nodded curtly and turned to Greg, staring at him for a moment before a light bulb appeared to go off above his head.

"I remember you. I met you at the hospital after Nick was buried alive." Seeing the pained look on Nick's face at the offhand mention of the plexiglass coffin, Greg nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah, Greg Sanders." He put out his hand, but Judge Stokes merely looked at it and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, um…" Greg smiled meekly and looked to Nick for help.

"Why don't we find seats?" Nick said, and Greg let out a shaky breath. "You go ahead, Greg & I'll go get water."

"Coffee for me, son. Black, no sugar, decaf. Thanks."

Greg turned to Nick. "So, your dad is probably the scariest guy I've ever had a polite conversation with."

"Who's the scariest guy you haven't had a polite conversation with?"

"Demetrius James."

Nick nodded and set a hand on Greg's shoulder, bringing him closer as he pressed down on the water dispenser. "Listen, if you can't handle my parents, I won't blame you for heading back home. They're a lot to stomach, especially when my mom's emotional, and I'm already surprised you put up with them when I was in the hospital."

"No, no, as long as your dad doesn't, you know, say anything else to me or look at me, we'll be alright." Seeing the expression on Nick's face, Greg sighed. "It'll be fine. I'll come up with a reason to leave if I have to. They're not going to be spending anytime at your place, are they?"

Shaking his head, Nick grabbed another plastic cup and filled it with water. "No, I'd bet that Dad has something important that he needs to get back to. At least, I'm sure that he'll go home. Mom's another story."

"Why, why would your mom stay for a while?" Nick shrugged as he handed two of the cups of water to Greg.

"She'd want to make sure I was alright, make sure that I was going to be okay."

Greg stopped Nick before he started walking back to his parents. "Have you told them that she was pregnant?"

"Of course I have, Greg." He stepped to the side to go around Greg, but Greg stuck an arm out to keep him there.

"Have you told them it wasn't yours?" Nick didn't respond, and Greg let out a puff of air. "Are you kidding? No wonder your mom still thinks she's the best thing to grace her son's life." Nick glared at him and Greg shifted his weight onto his right foot before he said, "Sorry. But you can't let them go on thinking that, Nick. They'll just keep telling you that you should move on and find a nice girl to settle down with, someone like Aimee, and they won't even know that they're telling you to go find a cheating whore."

"Hey!" Nick protested, placing the water and coffee onto the table next to them. "She wasn't a whore! And if you're trying to get me to come out to my parents, there's no way I'm going to do it at my late girlfriend's funeral!"

Amazed at how the conversation had taken a deadly turn so quickly, Greg shook his head. "I'm not trying to get you to come out to your parents; I never said anything about that. I'm trying to get you to tell them that Aimee cheated on you and that the kid wasn't yours."

Nick was breathing heavily, and Greg decided Mr. and Mrs. Stokes could wait a little longer to receive beverages. He set the water down and stepped forward, pulling Nick towards him in an embrace. "Sorry, I just… I think it would make things a lot easier."

"I know. I didn't mean to bite your head off, it's just…" Nick trailed off, wrapping his arms around Greg. "My parents don't exactly help matters."

Greg pulled away and smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But what can you do? Besides run out of here and pretend that everything is going to be okay? You go in there, sit next to your parents, listen to the program or the readings or whatever, and pretend everything's going to be okay. And one day, you'll wake up, and everything will be okay." Nick smiled softly, picked up the cups, and walked towards where he saw his parents sitting. Greg watched him for a moment before he picked up the two remaining cups and followed him.

Just as Greg expected, Nick went right for the alcohol when he returned home. Instead of telling him it was probably a bad idea to down two beers within five minutes of walking in the front door, Greg kicked off his shoes and joined him.

"You know," Nick began, opening his third bottle after a few moments of silence. "She may have cheated on me, but no one deserves to dies such a tragic death. I'd never wish that on someone."

Attempting humor, Greg said, "Of course not. You'd be there to piece together what happened and dig through the scene." Nick only raised his eyebrows momentarily and swallowed a mouthful of beer. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"Don't apologize, I know you didn't."

An awkward silence fell between them and Greg was overcome with a sudden urge to get rid of it.

"I watched my uncle die when I was eleven. You know what he told me?"

"What?"

"He told me that no matter what I did or who I became, he'd always be proud of me and love me like the son he never had. It was a lot of inspiration for, I don't know, motivation, I guess, you know? Even though he told me his pride in me was unconditional, I wanted to give him a reason to be proud of me."

Confused, Nick set the empty bottle on the counter and reached for another. "What does that have to do with Aimee's funeral?"

"Nothing, really. I just needed something to say and that came to mind first."

Nick smiled and grabbed a beer for Greg, setting it on the table in front of him. "You know, I miss hearing that."

"The story? I didn't think it was that interesting, but I can tell it again if you want—"

Nick shook his head and laughed. "No, I mean the tidbits of seemingly unimportant information. One day it may come in handy, but right now, it's useless."

Greg popped the top of the beer bottle off. "Not completely useless," he said, pausing to take a drink. "You got to learn something new about me."

Shrill ringing brought Greg from sleep the next morning. He slammed his hand down on the alarm clock before remembering that he hadn't set an alarm, and immediately went for his cell phone.

"Sanders," he greeted, only to be met with complete silence as another ring sounded. Just in time for the answering machine to get it, Greg realized it was Nick's house phone, and ran from the room to grab it before whoever it was left a message and Nick had to bother with calling them back later.

"Uh," Greg said, wondering if Nick answered his phone with proclaiming his name after Nigel Crane or not. Luckily, he was met with sobbing and didn't exactly have to worry about that.

"Oh, Nicky, I just found some of Aimee's old things in your bedroom, I forgot that she had left them here! I kept meaning to send them back and now there's no point to, but I don't know what I should do with them—"

Greg pulled the phone from his ear and looked around the room to see if it had woken Nick when he recalled Nick taking sleeping pills the night before. Nick's mother continued sobbing into the phone and he set it on the table to seek out her son.

He found him in the guest bedroom, where Greg had slept the night before, almost falling off the edge of the bed. "Hey, Nick," he said, shaking an elbow.

"Mm?" Nick opened one eye and sat up when he saw Greg. "What's up?"

"Your mom's on the phone, crying about something of Aimee's… What are you doing in here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

Confused, Greg scratched his head and followed Nick from the bedroom. "You took sleeping pills."

"Yeah, after they wore off. I figured your room was worth a try, and if it didn't work, it wasn't like I lost anything," Nick mumbled, walking towards the sink and grabbing a glass of water, Greg's eyes on him the entire time.

"Aren't you going to talk to your mom?" he asked, gesturing towards the phone.

Nick laughed and swallowed a mouthful of water. "She won't let me say anything for a while anyway." He paused and took another drink of water. "Sleep well?"

Greg shrugged and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Yeah, I didn't hear you come in or anything."

"Hm." Nick stared at Greg for a while, the only sound being Nick's mother's sobbing over the phone that was still abandoned on the table. "You didn't have to answer, you know."

Shrugging again, Greg yawned. "Didn't want it to bother you."

Nick picked up the phone, taking it away as soon as he heard his mother's sobbing, loud in his ear. "Thanks. I think."

Greg laughed as Nick left the room, trying to calm his mother as he did so.

An hour later, Nick emerged from his bedroom, placing his phone back on the table. "Have you been sitting there the entire time?"

"No," Greg said, standing up and setting a glass in the sink. "I made breakfast." He grinned and presented the stovetop to Nick, who was smiling appreciatively.

"You didn't have to, Greg."

Shrugging, Greg pulled a plate from the cupboard and said, "I wanted to. Besides, it wasn't exactly like work or anything."

Nick took the extended plate, smiling widely at him. "Thanks. How'd you find everything?"

"Not my first time at your house, Nick." Greg watched him eat in silence for a while, Nick occasionally mentioning something about his conversation with his mother.

Finally, just as Nick was putting dishes in the sink and washing his hands, he said, "I think the father was at the funeral."

Interested, Greg asked, "What made you think that?"

Nick shrugged and said, "When you were in the bathroom, a young guy, must've been around your age, I guess, came up to me after it was over and started apologizing. He wasn't even coherent, you know? I couldn't understand half of what he was saying and when my parents met up with me he ran off."

Greg frowned. "How'd that…I mean, are you okay?"

"You mean am I pissed at the guy?" Nick laughed, setting Greg at ease. "No. I mean, it wasn't like rape or anything, and I imagine Aimee went willingly into it, otherwise she would've said something to me."

"So why aren't you pissed at Aimee?"

Nick was silent for a few minutes before he said, "I could never be mad at Aimee."

Before Greg could say anything, his phone went off. He excused himself and grabbed it from the nightstand in the guest bedroom.

"Sanders."

"Greg! I'm glad I caught you."

"Frank!" Laughing nervously, Greg mouthed "my boss" to Nick and closed the door behind him. "You're not calling to fire me, are you?" Greg ignored the part of himself that wished that were true.

"Of course not! You're one of my best employees, regardless of how often you're here. But I do need you back, we have three kidnappings, six murders, and enough hit and runs and b&e's to keep us busy for the next few months if the lab doesn't get in gear."

A little disappointed his time with Nick was almost over, Greg said, "No, no, I'll...Yeah. When would you like me back?"

"As soon as possible, actually. I don't mean to rush you, and if you really can't leave, I understand, but-,"

"No, I...Yeah, I'll be in by Saturday for sure."

"You don't work Saturday."

"But you just said you needed me."

A beat, and then Frank said, "Oh, right, right. Thanks, Greg, it means a lot. I'll see you soon."

Feeling like he was letting Nick down, Greg said, "Yeah," to the dial tone and leaned against the door for a moment. Only when he heard Nick call out, "Are you okay?" did he leave the room.

"What's up?" Nick asked, concern evident in his expression. "Everything okay?

"Frank wants me back at work. I said I'd be there by tomorrow night."

But instead of being visibly crushed like Greg has thought he would, Nick only nodded. "Yeah. Next flight out, or...?"

"I was thinking that, yeah. Is that okay? I can—"

Nick shook his head, a sad, half-smile on his face. "Don't. It's your job, I get it. I should go back to work anyway, otherwise Grissom'll have my ass."

Still unconvinced, Greg said, "If you don't want me to leave, I can work something out, just say the work and I'll—"

"Ha!" Nick settled into the chair in the living room and said, "Of course I don't want you to leave. But I think you'll have a better chance at keeping your job if you do."

"Okay. If you—"

Nick interrupted him again, despite the annoyed look on Greg's face as he did so. "I do, okay? Just go. I'll…Call or something, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Greg asked again, watching Nick with wide eyes.

Nodding, Nick waved him away. "Yeah. Now go pack."

--

"The next flight leaves at six, so if I plan on catching it I should really leave soon," Greg said, piling his bags by the front door. "You—"

Nick held up a hand to stop him. "Don't ask me if I'm okay with this. You know what the answer is."

Greg smiled and brought Nick's hand back down to his side. "Okay. That's not what I was going to ask. You know it'll be a while before Frank will let me take time off, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure Griss'll have me pulling doubles and triples for a while when I go back."

"When do you think you'll go back?" Greg asked as he pulled on his shoes.

"Monday. I called him when you were packing."

"Oh." Before he decided what to say next, Greg was crushed against Nick, hardly able to breathe.

"It was nice to see you."

"Nice to see you, too," Greg gasped. "But I can't breathe, can you—?"

"Sorry," Nick muttered. He loosened his grip but didn't pull away. "I'm gonna miss you."

Greg smiled and returned the embrace, arms finally free. "I'm gonna miss you, too."

"Aimee's parents, huh? How you holding up?" Greg asked, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he poured the last of his coffee from one of the break room's coffee pot.

"It's alright, I mean…They're doing a lot of sightseeing, probably to keep Emily from breaking down too often, but I don't know if that's working too much, considering there's always an empty box of tissues on the coffee table," Nick said, voice crackling briefly. "Anyway. They're not too bad of houseguests. If they're here during the day, I can't here 'em."

Greg nodded, sipping his coffee. "Oh, right, I asked Frank if I could take off time next week to head up to Vegas, but he said something about Evan already taking time off and we're really short as it is…Anyway, I don't think I can get time off."

Nick was silent for a minute, so silent that Greg had to check to make sure the call hadn't dropped. "Oh, yeah, that's fine. Yeah, we'll just…I don't know, find another time, right? It's not a big deal."

Greg switched the phone to his other ear and said, "You sure? Because I'm sure that I could do something if—"

"Greg!"

Sighing, Greg mumbled into the phone, "I'll call you back later." He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled at his boss. "What's up?"

"That hit and run I put you on?" He pointed towards the full coffee pot and asked, "Is this yours?" At Greg's shake of his head, Frank frowned, pouring his mug half full and beginning to add creamer and sugar to it. Greg cringed. "Anyway, the governor's daughter was killed, so you're on that case. There's evidence that her killer ran to Vegas, and I thought that you knew the guys from Vegas and the town better than anyone else in the lab would… Who better suited for the job, right?" Frank grinned and handed him a plane ticket. "You leave in six hours; I suggest you go home and get packed."

Unable to hide his grin, Greg stuttered out a few half sentences before settling on, "Thank you, Frank. It means a lot to me to know you think I'm suited for the job."

"Of course, Greg." He began walking from the break room before he said, "Oh, and you might want to call that friend of yours back, I'm sure they'll be ecstatic to hear the news. After all, you'll be working with them."

"How did you know?" Greg asked, sticking the plane ticket in his back pocket.

Frank only winked at him and let the break room door swing shut behind him. As soon as Greg couldn't see him anymore, he pulled his phone back out and called Nick.

"Stokes,"

"Oh, good, I thought Grissom would've had you back to work right now."

"Actually, he does, he's supposed to be calling me with info. What's up?"

Grinning as he walked to the locker room, Greg said, "Frank just told me that the governor's daughter was killed."

"Oh, yeah, yeah…we're on that case right now. What's that have to do with you?"

"Frank just told me that he's sending someone out to Vegas to help with that." Checking to make sure no one else was in the locker room when he entered, Greg said, "And I can't say I've ever been happier to hear about someone committing crime."

"Come on, Greg, murder's hardly something to be happy about." He was silent for a moment. "Who's coming out here to help us?"

"I am."

There was silence for a moment, but when Nick spoke again, Greg could hear the smile in his voice. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"This is great!"

Realizing a problem, Greg warned, "But we have to stay professional and stick to the job. I mean, the governor's daughter was killed.."

"Right, of course. But we'll be working together. If, you know, Griss doesn't take me off the case to work with you. He's done that a few times with some of the other's that have been in and out of here since you left."

"Really?" Greg listened to one of Nick's stories as he packed up and changed. "Huh. Alright, well, my plane leaves in a few hours."

"I'll see if Griss'll let me off to come get you."

Amazed that Nick had offered without Greg saying anything, he said, "You don't have to do that. I'll get a cab."

"No, no, it's fine. But I really have to go; we should get as much of it solved as we should. When do you land?"

After giving Nick his flight info, Greg hung up, his smile still larger than he remembered it being in a while.

--

A flight from Francisco to Vegas and a nap later, Greg found himself standing outside the airport, waiting for Nick, imagining he'd been caught up in the case and didn't even know what time it was. Just as he was calling a cab, Nick's truck pulled up, complete with a smiling Texan sitting in the driver's seat.

"Sorry I'm late, Griss had me do a few more things before I could leave. I'm supposed to bring you to your hotel and you're supposed to drop off your stuff and we're supposed to go back."

Disappointed that he wouldn't be staying at Nick's, Greg let out a less than thrilled, "Oh," and started throwing his luggage in the back of his car.

"Hey, just so you know… Aimee's parents are still at my place, otherwise I'd let you stay there," Nick explained, smiling at Greg as he climbed into the front seat. "It's nice to have you back."

Returning a smile, Greg said, "It's nice to be back."

The lab was a mess of running people and flying papers when Nick and Greg walked in the front doors. "Is it always like this now?"

"No, just on high profile cases… Grissom should be with Archie looking over traffic tapes. I'll let him know you're here and meet you across the hall."

Sixteen hours later, Nick and Greg were finally sent home, with little hope that the killer would be found. Nick dropped him off at his hotel, and walked him to the door before saying goodbye.

"I'll pick you up early tomorrow, alright?"

Greg struggled with the card key a few times before the light flashed green and he could open the door. "Why early? What time?"

"An hour before shift starts. We could get some dinner before we head in. If you don't want to, we don't have to; I just thought it'd be nice after all this…" Nick sighed. "Stress."

Inviting the older man in, Greg let out a sigh of his own. "Do you think we'll find him?"

Nick shrugged as he sat on Greg's bed. "I hope so."

Greg's agreement went unspoken and he fell backwards onto his bed with a groan. "Oh, this is awesome. Now I'm kind of glad there's no room for me at your place," Greg teased, winking at the Texan.

"If you really want to, I can—"

Greg shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I'll sleep here."

Chuckling, Nick lay down next to him. "I was going to say I could try not to take over the entire bed, but alright."

Greg cracked open an eye. "Really?" He sat back up, turning to look at Nick. "You'd do that?"

Nick smiled again and lifted himself up onto his elbows. "Yeah."

Greg flashed a smile back and was about to say something else when his phone interrupted him. "Hang on, it's probably Frank…" He flipped his phone open and answered, nodding at Nick when he heard the familiar voice. Nick gathered thoughts while Greg told his boss what they'd learned so far about the suspect.

Greg hung up and set his phone aside, letting a light sigh escape from his lips. "I should get to sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"Hey, Greg," Nick said, then paused. After an abnormally long silence, Greg answered him. "I asked Grissom if he would ever be willing to offer you your job back."

Both a little angry and a little impressed that Nick had done what Greg had thought about doing for a while, Greg waited for him to continue.

"He said you're always welcome in Vegas."

"I don't think I can come back yet," Greg admitted without thinking. Watching Nick nod his head and stand up, ready to leave, spurred a train of thoughts to play through his head, none of which he particularly liked. He grabbed Nick's wrist before continuing. "Not that I don't want to, but… I'm still not on my feet after the first move, and I don't want to stay at someone's place and mooch off of them until I find a place of my own."

"You could stay with me. You wouldn't be mooching."

"I appreciate the gesture, but—"

Nick bent down and pressed his lips to Greg's softly.

"You wouldn't be mooching. I promise." Nick whispered, pulling his wrist from Greg's grip.

Greg smiled softly at him. "You really want me back in Vegas, don't you?"

"Yeah. But it's your call. If you want to stay in San Francisco, we can work something out." Nick returned to the bed.

"I don't want to make any quick decisions. I'm going to need a while to think about it, alright?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah."

Greg pulled him down so he was lying on top of him. "In the meantime, though…"

Nick felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What?"

"Would it hurt if you stayed here rather than at home?"

"I doubt it."

"Alright, alright! I'll do it!"

As Nick stormed off, Catherine raised her eyebrows and turned to Robert. "Greg head back to San Francisco?"

"Yeah, yesterday morning, I think. Nick told me they solved their murder case, I went out for drinks with them to celebrate the other night. They seemed pretty happy..." Robert flipped open the folder in his hands and cleared his throat. "Why?"

Catherine shook her head and sighed. "Never mind."

--

Halfway through shift, Catherine locked herself in Grissom's office.

"Can I help you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Running a hand through her hair, Catherine sighed and flopped into a chair. "Have you run into Nick at all today?"

Grissom shook his head, taking off his glasses and closing the file lying open in front of his desk. "No. Why?"

"He's taking things very badly."

Sighing, Grissom opened the file again. "You know how he can get on cases. If it gets any worse, let me know."

"Grissom, it's a B&E. There's nothing involving anything he normally gets worked up over," she explained. "I really think this has something to do with Greg."

"Catherine, I have no power over Greg not taking his job back. If he wants to stay in San Francisco, no one can change his decision."

"I know. Can't you, I don't know, tell Nick to take a week off or something?"

"Catherine, you're just as aware as I am, we can't afford to give anyone a week off. We're very short."

Sighing again, Catherine stood from the chair and unlocked Grissom's door. "I just wish he wasn't so miserable."

--

"So I've got some good news."

Already relaxing at the sound of Greg's voice, Nick sighed and closed his eyes. He leaned against the side of his truck and let a smile tug at his lips. "What's that?"

"A couple of new CSIs transferred in from New York… And I've been thinking."

Stomach jumping into his throat, Nick sat up and said, "Thinking? About what?"

Nick heard Greg inhale deeply before saying, "Thinking about moving back."

"You weren't thinkin' about it before?"

Greg let out a nervous chuckle. "No, no, I was definitely thinking about it before, I just… Now it's really a reality. I mean, I'm seriously thinking about walking into Frank's office and just…Telling him. You know?"

Nick knew that getting his hopes up so early would eventually screw him over, but he couldn't help it. "Really? You're not just screwin' with my head?"

"No, I'm really thinking about it. Actually, I've kind of taken some steps in doing it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm looking for an apartment, talking to some people…"

Nick straightened and cleared his throat. "You don't have to look for an apartment."

There was a pause before Greg said, "I kind of do, actually. I can't afford to stay at a hotel and there's no ideal way for me to keep returning to Francisco. If I did that I might as well stay in Francisco, which is the exact opposite of what I'm really looking into—"

"No, I mean… Why don't you stay at my place?"

There was such a long silence that Nick started to wonder if something had happened. He checked his phone to make sure that his battery hadn't died, or that Greg had hung up, and gave Greg a while before continuing. "We've known each other for years, Greg. There's no point in you paying money for your own apartment."

"What if there is?"

The question caught him off guard. "What do you mean, what if there is?"

"I mean, what if there is a point in me having my own apartment?"

Nick took a quick glance around to make sure that no one was around before saying, "What are you talking about? Why would there be a point?"

Greg let out a sigh, and Nick shifted his weight to his other foot, worrying. "I don't want to sound pessimistic, but... I don't know, what if things don't work out?"

Nick recognized the anger flaring up inside his chest, but didn't attempt to hide it. "Greg, if you really don't think things are going to work out, what the hell are we doing even trying?"

"No! God, no, Nick, I really think things are going to work out, and I really want them to, but there's just… a small part of me that keeps nagging at me! What if you're just moving for him again; what if you're just throwing away a chance at an amazing job for him; what if you're just wasting more time on him and it's not going to mean anything and…"

"And what?"

"And he's just going to break your heart again?"

Crushed, Nick took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I never…Did I?"

"Yeah. And forgive me, but I can't help but wonder, deep down, if you're going to do it again."

"I'm so sorry," Nick whispered. "God, I'm… I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I… It's in the past. And I've got you now, right?"

"You can't expect me just to let this go, can you?"

"I'd really like it if you did, Nick. Please?"

"Yeah. Sure." Nick heard the words coming from his mouth before he had a chance to think. "I have to get back to work. I'll call you after shift, alright?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." Almost letting the words "I love you" slip out, Nick covered it with a cough. "Bye," he said, and barely listened to Greg's reply before he snapped his phone shut and thumped his head against his car. Sometimes it seemed like he didn't even have to try to screw up anymore.

--

The rest of the day went relatively normal, save for the fact that Nick was no longer angry and snapping. Instead, he was quiet, somber, and seemed to walk with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Catherine caught Grissom staring just as intently at him, and asked, "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

"No. Did you?"

"No."

When Nick was asked if he'd like to go out for a drink after work, he said, "No, I have…stuff to do at home." Though positive that he had nothing to do at home other than do exactly what she planned to do with Robert and Wendy, Catherine just nodded and said that if he wanted to join them, he was welcome.

--

Despite how much Nick wanted to get drunk and fall asleep, he kept true to his word and called Greg after shift, though he'd be lying if he said he did it as soon as he clocked out.

"Hey."

"I didn't mean to freak you out or whatever earlier. I just, I don't know, can't help it. I'm sorry."

Nick stepped out of his shoes and sighed heavily. "Don't worry about it, alright? I shouldn't force you into doing something you're not ready to do."

Greg sighed too, and Nick wondered if he imagined the exasperation or if Greg was really that frustrated. "Still. If I wasn't such a coward, if I had gotten the courage to tell you earlier, maybe we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now and we'd already be on our happily ever after. I want to move in with you, I do. I just… Like I said, I'm not on my feet yet, rent's higher than ever in Francisco right now, I haven't been at the lab here very long… And if something does happen and we break up, I wouldn't have a place to stay."

Ever the gentleman, Nick gently said, "Even if we broke up, I'd still let you here until you found a place of your own." And he would. Nick would never lie about something like that. Even if they had an explosive break-up and he could hardly handle to see Greg's face, he'd never kick him out, especially not after what he'd already done to him.

The sentence had barely left his lips and Nick could sense the change in their conversation.

"You're the only thing for me in Vegas, Nick. If this doesn't work out…" Greg didn't have to say it for Nick to know that if it didn't work out, he wouldn't have another chance.

"I know." He said it with sincerity, but Nick wondered if there's more bumps in the road for their relationship or if from here on out, it was going to be smooth sailing. After everything they've gone through – and not just in their relationship – they deserve happiness. "I know," he repeated.

"If I move back out there, I need a net. I need something to know that if it doesn't work out, I don't become homeless." The fact that Greg seemed so intent on finding an apartment made Nick wonder if he was counting on him chickening out again. Overcome with the sudden urge to prove Greg wrong and get his full trust back, he flipped open a phonebook and went to work while Greg not-so-subtly changed the subject to the cases he'd been working on his last shift.

When Nick finally found the number of the woman who had found him his apartment, he interrupted Greg. "I have some errands to run, can I call you back?"

Greg sounded surprised, and Nick can detect the tiniest bit of hurt in his voice, but if he were to apologize, Greg would know something's up. "Yeah, sure."

Nick was dialing his home phone before he had even hung up with Greg. "Bye," he said, listening for Greg's response before snapping his phone shut and turning his attention to the ringing line.

It took him maybe three hours, but by the time Nick hung up, he had five apartment addresses and a smile on his face. He set the apartment addresses next to his cell phone, plugged it in for the night, and fell asleep with his work clothes on.

--

"You didn't."

"I did."

Nick had expected Greg to be stunned, he really did, but he seemed a little angry, too. "Is that alright? I mean, I can throw away the addresses if you want me to, I just... I thought it might be a little easier for you with some help."

He tapped the small notepad on the tabletop as he waited for Greg's answer. When he finally spoke, he did so hesitantly.

"No, it's fine. I'm just surprised. I didn't expect to have apartments to look at this quick. I've hardly started repacking photo frames."

Sensing that it might be too quick of a transition for him, Nick was quick to assure him, "Really, if it's too much, I can just give you the name of the woman I got the addresses from and you can call her when you're ready to move."

Greg chuckled a little while Nick waited for his answer. "I want to move. Physically, emotionally, mentally, whatever-ally, I'm ready to move. Financially? That's a totally different matter."

"If you're having trouble with money, I'd be happy to lend you some."

"Thanks but I'm gonna have to pass. And besides, I have the money to do that, it'll just take a while for me to have the money to eat again," Greg said. Nick knew that he was trying to go for a laugh to detract from the seriousness of the situation, and smiled a little, just to give Greg satisfaction even if he can't see it.

"Come on, Greg."

Greg heaved a sigh over the phone. "I know." Nick wondered if he was going to continue and explain, but Greg interrupts his thoughts by doing so. "I'm not worried." He laughs. "Okay, I am. I really don't know how things are going to work out. But we've gotten this far. There's got to be some reason, right? Some reason that I can't just… get over you?"

Nick's breath hitched a little in his throat and he swallowed a few times to calm himself down. "Are you saying we're soulmates?"

Greg laughed, but it came out a little more choked than he intended it to be. "Not really. Not if you don't want me to be. I'm just saying, there's a reason we can't just let this go. Kinda like destiny, you know? As cheesy as that sounds."

Nick can't deny that it sounds cheesy, but he liked the sound of it being planned out for them, that they had no choice. It made the entire gay thing easier to him. He had tried to get away, but it kept pulling him back, like too many detours weren't acceptable. If only everyone else was as understanding and as accepting as Greg was...

"Yeah, it's a bit cheesy. But whoever said cheesy wasn't romantic?"

There wasn't a response to that, and Nick smiled to himself. "I'll fly out on my next weekend off, which probably isn't going to be any time soon. Is there any way we can keep the apartments open for me to look at? I mean, it's going to be a month and a half, if not more, before I get some time off."

Relieved that Greg hadn't flipped out too much about the addresses, he nodded to an empty room and said, "Yeah, I can talk to Alex. But yeah, I'll let you go."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

Nick's smile grew a little bigger. "I have to. I'll call later, alright? Like I always do."

Greg sounded disappointed when they finally said goodbye. Nick has half a second to think about if that's significant or not before he realized he had things to do and people to call. And it Greg was going to be moving back in a few months, well, there were some things he needed to do.

"You good to go?" Nick asked when Greg had secured himself safely in the front passenger seat. At Greg's nod, he stepped on the gas and rolled out of the parking lot a little too quickly.

Greg gripped the seat and took a few deep breaths just to mock his lover. "Take it slow, Tex. We don't have a curfew." Nick glanced at him, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Greg winked in response.

He flipped his right blinker and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "I know. I'm just… Anxious."

"Anxious? I'm not going anywhere. Not that I know of, at least. You have something planned?" Greg asked, settling comfortably into the front seat of Nick's truck. It had been a long time since he last sat in it; four months, actually, when he took a trip back to Vegas to secure an apartment. The moving process took much longer than expected – what with the two of them trying to make up for lost time on days off – and Greg had just recently gotten his things packed up and shipped out to Vegas the weekend before.

"Yeah," Nick began with a smile, "I know. I didn't really expect you to come back so soon."

Greg hardly thought it was soon, but if Nick's under the impression it's early, maybe that's a good thing. "I didn't really expect to ever have any of this happen, either. Looks like life takes us for a pretty surprising life."

"Yeah," Nick repeated. Greg notes that he sounds kind of far off and he pats Nick's knee in reassurance.

"Hey, I'm not gonna leave; not this time. And if you ever tell me you want me out, that's it, alright? I'm not going to come back. This is your last chance, Nicky." Greg didn't say what was hanging in the air, but Nick didn't need him to. Don't break my heart again. Nick shook his head.

"I don't plan on it."

Greg seemed relatively happy with that answer and leaned the rest of the way across the seat and kissed him.

When he pulled away, the little amount of tension there had been in the air was gone, and Nick was in a noticeably better mood for the rest of the drive to Greg's apartment.

--

"It's so… empty."

Nick scoffed as he set the last box on top of the others. "What are you talking about? Your clothes take up an entire room." He wrapped his arms around Greg's waist and surveyed the room as well, taking in the chipped white walls and scuffed hardwood floors.

"Hey," Greg said, turning his head to the side and looking at him through the corners of his eyes. "I'll have you know not all of it is clothes. Some of it's bedding, and some of it is towels and stuff."

With a laugh, Nick shook his head and kissed Greg, letting him go and sitting in one of the chairs that had arrived the week before. "Sure, sure… You stayin' here tonight?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"Mm…" Nick smiled. "Not really."

Echoing Nick's laughter, Greg picked up the keys from the counter and retrieved his jacket from the living room. "Guess that's settled, then." He picked up his bag from the kitchen and waved Nick ahead of him.

"If you wanna stay, by all means, stay…" Greg dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"Are you kidding? Stay alone in a cold apartment in Vegas?" Greg said, shutting off the lights and stealing another kiss before pushing Nick outside and closing his door. "Not when I've got you." After successfully locking the apartment, he smiles. "Lead the way."

--

Back at Nick's place, Greg sat in the living room, alternating between watching the documentary on TV and Nick struggle in his bedroom, his mind jumping from topic to topic. There had been a specific question Greg had in mind for a while, And it was hardly the time, but Greg figured it was as good a time as any to ask. "Uh, Nick?" he called, craning his head to see his boyfriend digging through drawers in his bedroom.

"Yeah?" he answered back. Greg swirled the water in his glass a few times and stayed silent. Nick returned to the room after a few moments, concerned look on his face. "What?"

Greg shook his head and crossed his legs at the ankles on the coffee table. "Never mind." Still, though, the question nagged at the back of his mind until he stood up and followed Nick back into the bedroom, where he was separating clothes into piles. "You came back here to clear out space for my stuff and instead you're reorganizing?"

"Yeah, well," Nick huffed, straining to reach something underneath the bed. "It was a hectic time, I haven't exactly been able to reorganize for a while, not since Aimee was living here."

Greg sat down gingerly on the bed after Nick had found the box, and sighed quietly enough that he thought Nick wouldn't hear him. Still, Nick looked back up at him. "Alright, seriously, what's up?"

Scratching his head, Greg trailed around a little bit before Nick's voice went into a dangerous tone as he said, "Greg…"

"Alright, I guess… I was just curious. If things hadn't worked out the way they did," he started, then shook his head. "I mean, if Aimee hadn't been in the accident and she was still alive, do you think…?" Greg left the question open ended on purpose, too cowardly to finish it in fear that Nick might get angry or depressed at the mention of Aimee's death.

Nick breathed in a few times, watched Greg for a few moments before finally saying, voice hardly audible, "Yeah." Ouch.

Greg must have deflated a little, because Nick was at his side in seconds. "But that's not to say I'm not glad things worked out the way they did. I'm sorry that it had to happen the way it did, yeah," he said with a smile. "I'm sorry Aimee and the baby had to die in order for us to work, but I'm not sorry about us. I'm never going to be, either."

Smile threatening to show, Greg hid his face a little and squirmed under Nick's gaze and touch. "Yeah, until your Christian parents flip out about the fact you have a gay lover."

"They already know," Nick replied softly.

"Wh-What?" Greg sputtered, looking up at him with wide eyes. "They know?" Nick nodded. "How do they know?"

Nick, sensing that Greg was going to be alright, went back to reorganizing the dresser. "I told 'em, G. Back before you'd even come to look at apartments. I figured it was something that needed to be done sooner or later, and maybe sooner would be better. I also figured if I did it early on, by the time you'd moved back, they'd have accepted it and might want to meet you."

"And you waited until now to tell me?"

Shrugging, Nick closed one of the drawers with finality and offered a hand to Greg to help him stand. "Wanted it to be a bit of a surprise, I guess?" Greg raised an eyebrow. "They took it well. It was actually surprising."

Greg took his hand and followed Nick out into the living room again. "So they didn't disown you, try to send you to therapy, or start citing scripture at you?"

With a laugh, Nick shook his head and walked into the bathroom, turning on the faucet. "No, no, they weren't that extreme. My parents actually didn't have too much of a problem with it, a lot less than what I thought they would." Nick was silent for a few minutes while he brushed his teeth. "Y'know, considering that they're very conservative, very religious Texans, it's actually a nice sigh of relief to know that they're not going to try anything."

"You're a grown man," Greg called back, flipping the cold water on in the kitchen faucet and waiting for it to cool off. "You can make your own choices." Nick chuckled lightly from the bathroom, and Greg smiled to himself, shutting off the glass as he looked around Nick's kitchen.

Just as he heard Nick say he'd be out in a minute, he noticed a glossy photo stuck to the front of his fridge, partially hidden by a grocery list. Greg switched the glass of water to his other hand and reached to uncover it, smiling when he realized what photo it was.

(a flashback of sorts)
Nick stood as well, dropping a hand to Greg's shoulder. "Don't leave Vegas angry at me, G." Hardly able to contain his anger at the Texan for leading him on and making him think there might be a chance, Greg bit down hard on his tongue, hoping that the pain would keep him from tearing Nick's head off. "G…"

"Whatever. I'm not mad. I've been waiting years for that and if you're just going to lead me on, that's your choice. I already know that nothing's going to happen."

Surprised at Greg's outburst, Nick's hand dropped from Greg's shoulder. "What are you—Greg, I don't—"

Shaking his head, Greg let out a humorless chuckle. "You can't tell me that you never got it? It all went over your head?" Confused expression back on Nick's face, Greg sighed and shook his head dejectedly. "Don't worry about it. Must've been in my head." He closed his locker and took the pile of photos from the bench, leafing through them until he found a picture of the two of them. The memory of the night was still fresh in his mind, remembering how Nick couldn't stop smiling, how Greg couldn't stop feeling like he was living in his dreams. He'd just passed his final proficiency, and he thought at the time he may have actually had a chance. "Here." He pressed the photo into Nick's shaking hands and sighed.

Nick took a moment to look at the photo before looking back up at Greg. "I shouldn't… You can…"

"I've got digital copies of all the photos. You can keep it." Greg let the other words hang in the air, hoping he wouldn't have to say anymore than he already had. He'd risked more in the last ten minutes than he had the ten years he'd worked at the lab.

"Keep it as what?" Nick's accent was starting to show through, tears forming in his eyes, but Greg didn't feel any kind of pity – not really.

"As a reminder."
(/flashback)

It was weird seeing it stuck to Nick's refrigerator. When he'd given it to him, he was almost a little worried that Nick was going to rid himself of it somehow, just to get away from the reminder. His final proficiency. God, if he could go back and time and tell his younger self what would happen in the years to come…

"G?" Nick asked softly, peering around the corner.

Greg tapped his fingers against the photo. "Yeah." Nick walked towards him when he realized what he was looking at. "How long has this been up here?" he said softly, unconsciously leaning towards Nick.

"It's been there since you gave it to me." Glancing at Nick, Greg realized his eyes were glossing over, from sadness or happiness, Greg could only guess.

He swallowed and said, voice barely there, "I love you."

Nick smiled softly. "I love you, too." He tugged on Greg's hand and nodded towards the bedroom. Greg had dreamed about the day Nick would say those words back, but damn if they don't sound better in reality than they do in Greg's fantasies.

With one last glance to the photo, Greg followed him.

--
(end)

(the photo is based off the scene in Who Shot Sherlock, S5, where Greg passes his final proficiency (It was mentioned, I know) but I don't think it's that particular scene.

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