title: The Seduction
fandom: CSI: Vegas
pairing: Nick/Gil
rating: R
series: The Seduction
sequel to: none
spoilers: none
author: nancy
email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com
website: http://www.thetenthmuse1.madbrilliant.com/
feedback: yes, please! archive: let me know!
summary: Nick finds himself wooed by the infamous Dr. Grissom.
warnings: mild language
notes: pretty version w/formatting is on my site disclaimer: so obviously that they're not mine, never will be, not making any money, damnit.

***

The file that sat on his desk was thick. It was filled with photos, both up close and from a distance; held details of the subject's daily, weekly, and monthly routine; a professional history; and what could be put together of the subject's personal life before he'd moved to Las Vegas, college activities, grades, schools, ex- boyfriends, and whatever could be gleaned about his family life growing up. All in all, the file told more about the subject than even his own parents knew, which was exactly what had been paid for.

A friendly, highly intelligent, well-liked man, the subject was handsome, direct, and had never been in trouble with the law in his life. The father was a judge, the mother a lawyer, and all five sisters were professionals of one kind or another. Only the best grades had ever shown up on report cards, going all the way back to the double gold stars of kindergarten. Of the whole family, only the subject had taken what amounted to a blue collar job and it had led to some distance between the family members over the years. Still, they were closer than most, despite being all the way over in Texas while the subject lived in Las Vegas.

As to the subject of his current personal life, the subject had no significant other. He hadn't had one since the break up of the last serious relationship with one Kyle Weldon, age 48, professor of biology at UNLV. Weldon was on the younger side that the subject went for; most sexual encounters took place with men over fifty, and most of them were short-lived relationships, if not one-night stands. The average didn't last more than three months, with Weldon managing a more than respectable eight month termination date.

Looking between the lines of the report, one could see a man who had serious self-esteem problems, along with `daddy issues,' and they were mixed up so tightly together that he, himself, didn't even realize they couldn't be unraveled. It was an odd vulnerability for one who otherwise was so on top of himself, one who knew what he could and couldn't do, what he wanted, what his limitations and strengths were.

Physically, the subject was better than fit and healthy; he actively worked out on a daily basis, maintaining a strong physique. He was a physical man, there was no doubting that, with tough-football and Frisbee games on his days off, hang gliding for a hobby, and going horseback riding whenever he went home for a visit.

Unlike the typical bodybuilder, the subject's mind was...extraordinary. His attention to detail had earned him a name for the identification of unknown fabrics and fibers on crime scenes. His intuitive nature allowed him to make the cognitive leaps that had put away numerous criminals over the last five years of his tenure at the LVPD. He'd risen quickly through the ranks to be CSI III on the most experienced team in the city. There were commendations for just about everything possible and his reviews were glowing, to say the least. He'd never been caught in a lie, never tampered with evidence, never even shaded the truth or hedged his bets; as a matter of fact, it was an in-joke that the subject didn't even gamble.

All in all, Nick Stokes was a very good man who had no idea what was about to hit him.

* * * *

Nick whistled as he walked down the main hall towards the lab. What with his promotion, the closing of a cold case, and a date after shift, it was turning out to be a great day.

"Nick! Wait up," Catherine called from behind.

Stopping, Nick turned to wait for her and groaned at the sour expression on her face. "What's wrong now?"

"Triple homicide discovered out in Belmar Estates. It looks like they've been there for a while, thanks to the lovely bugs who are happily digesting the corpses," Catherine informed him.

Nick held up a hand and protested, "I have a date tonight, Cath! Come on!"

"Sorry, Nicky, but I need someone on the scene that I can trust."

The hard undertone caused Nick to frown in earnest and he asked, "What's up?"

"We had to call in Grissom," she explained, mouth turning down as though tasting something unpleasant. "The beetles are a variety with some weird gestation period that need expert handling and documentation. It'll only help strengthen our timeline, but."

"But it's Grissom," Nick agreed.

She nodded. "I'm really sorry to do this to you, but Warrick and Sara are out at the I-90 crash which doesn't look like an accident any more. I need to get out there right away, and Greg doesn't have enough field experience to handle Grissom."

Nick sighed, but answered, "No, it's okay, Cath, I understand. I'll take care of Grissom."

"Thanks, Nicky, you're the best!" she exclaimed, smiling as she hurried away.

Grumbling to himself, he dialed Tom's number to cancel their dinner.

* * * *

The crime scene, such as it was, was a mess. Something had set off the internal sprinklers, dousing all the evidence in a lot of water. Possibly their killer cleaning up his or her tracks. The heavy scent of mold assaulted Nick the moment he stepped into the once-luxurious, two-story home, and he coughed, even as he brought up the face mask that he'd been handed by the outside cop.

Grissom was already there, dressed casually in slacks and a sweater to combat the chilly desert night, but was standing in a relatively dry spot and not touching anything. A metal case stood on the floor beside him. As Nick approached, the other man said, "I hugged the wall to get here, not disturbing anything."

The words were somewhat muffled from the other man's face mask, but easily understandable. Tying his own in place, Nick nodded and answered, "Thanks," before beginning a sweep for photos. It seemed a little strange that Grissom didn't try to engage him in conversation. From what everyone said, the man liked to dissect people's emotions as much as he did his precious insects, but Nick was grateful for the silence. It allowed him to concentrate on the scene and get the job done all that much faster.

It was a good hour later that he tagged the last piece of evidence and turned to Grissom with, "Your turn, Doctor. Try not to step on anything that's labeled."

"I'll try not to," Grissom answered, dry.

Nick snorted a little and set about collecting the evidence and bagging it, while the entomologist did his thing. They actually finished up around the same time, Grissom putting his camera back in the metal case as Nick scrubbed tired fingers through his hair. Looking over at the other man, he asked, "So what do you think?"

"They've been dead for forty-two hours," Grissom answered.

"You sound awfully sure of yourself."

"I am."

Steady blue eyes looked back at him and Nick nodded slowly. "Thanks. You can send your findings to me at the lab."

Grissom nodded in return and replied, "I will. It was good working with you, Mr. Stokes."

To his surprise, Nick had to echo, "Same here, Doctor."

Seeming to smile behind his mask, eyes crinkling at the corners, Grissom said, "I'll leave you to your work," and left.

Nick stared after him for a moment, pale blue eyes lingering in his mind, and then shook it off. He still had plenty of work to do, after all.

* * * *

Dropping his report off in Catherine's in-box, Nick actually met up with the supervisor herself on his way out of her office. "Well hey, there. You look like crap."

She snorted and punched him in the arm, but it lacked force. "Thanks. We had to process a crime scene that was three miles long. Add to that the honking and curses of people stuck and unable to be diverted, and the temperature barely hitting forty, and see how good you look at the end of it."

"Ouch. Sorry I asked," Nick teased.

Groaning as she sat behind her desk, Catherine asked tiredly, "How was Grissom?"

Nick shrugged. "A pussy cat."

"Excuse me?" Catherine demanded, abruptly alert.

Leaning against the desk, Nick replied, "The man didn't say boo the whole time we worked together, Cath. Honestly, I think people are exaggerating about him. I think he's just this rich eccentric with a lot of bug knowledge."

Catherine's arms crossed over her chest and she stated, "`They' are not exaggerating, Nick, because I am one of `they.' The man's like Hannibal Lector, only colder."

Remembering the friendly blue eyes peering at him over a paper mask, Nick had to shake his head. "I don't know, Cath, he seemed pretty harmless to me."

Frowning at him, Catherine said, "If he's showing himself to you as harmless, then he has an agenda, Nicky. Be on your guard against him, I'm telling you."

And because she seemed so concerned, Nick leaned over to squeeze her shoulder and promised, "I will, Catherine."

* * * *

It was something of a surprise to find Grissom waiting for Nick the next night when he got into work. He gave the other man a cautiously friendly smile and asked, "Something I can do for you, Dr. Grissom?"

"Actually, I was told that you were the person to see about the Greenburg case," Grissom answered.

"Yeah, that's me. What's up?"

Grissom smiled briefly and explained, "Your expert has come down with a severe flu or some such, and I've been called to verify his findings and then present them at court."

Frowning a bit, Nick questioned, "You're an expert on DNA, too?"

"Among other things," Grissom confirmed modestly.

Nick shot him a bemused look, but couldn't see anything untoward about the man's attitude or demeanor. He was quietly composed, had a slightly expectant air about him, and no sign of the very bad man that rumor, and Catherine apparently, held him to be. Not really having time for second guessing whoever hired their experts, Nick finally said, "Come on with me. I'll get you the files and you can use my office."

As they walked, Grissom prompted, "I wasn't aware that CSIs had offices?"

"Yeah well, I'm kind of a cross between CSI and Supervisor right now. Cath and I, that's Catherine Willows, share a lot of the responsibilities so that no one's overburdened, but we each have our own office. Mine's in the basement, though," Nick explained. "Once the Day Shift Supervisor position opens up, it's mine."

"Well congratulations," Grissom said, smiling. "That's a big step."

Nick looked for any hint that the words rang false, but couldn't find any. There was sincere good will in the other man's gaze and smile, causing Nick to smile in return. "Thanks, Dr. Grissom."

"Why don't you call me Gil? It looks like we're going to be working together for the near future."

"Sure, okay. And hey, call me Nick."

Gil smiled. "I will, thank you, Nick."

The elevator doors pinged open and both men were quiet as they waited for them to reopen on the basement level. It was a short walk from there to his office, which he still wasn't used to thinking of as his office, and he apologized, "Sorry for the mess, I haven't really had time to get settled in."

Taking in the boxed files and empty metal shelving units, Gil observed, "It's a big space. You could do a lot in here."

"I know, if I only had time to do it," Nick replied humorously. "Course, there's always the thought that I'm gonna move in six months or a year anyhow, so why get comfy?"

"Well, there is that," Gil conceded.

Walking over to the stack of boxes labeled, `Current Court Cases,' Nick rifled through the alphabetized folders and pulled out a hefty one with the Greenburg name on it. He carted it over to the desk and set it down. "You know how to find your way around a police report, I assume?"

Gil nodded. "You assume correct."

"Okay, good. So, there you go. Dig in. I've gotta get before the bodies get cold," Nick said, flashing him a smile. "I'll see you later, Gil."

But Grissom was already immersed in the file, sitting down as he read, and only lifted a hand in farewell.

Still wondering when the Big Bad Monster was going to show up, Nick shook his head and left the office.

* * * *

When he got back to his office to do paperwork, Nick was surprised to find Grissom still bent over the files. Or, no, he could see that there were photographs laid out all over the otherwise empty desk, in chronological order.

"Your DNA tech is exceptionally good at his job," Gil said, not looking up from the magnifying glass.

Nick nodded and agreed, "He was. Greg's mostly in the field now, but this case was before that move."

Glancing over at him, Gil asked, "Is there a reason why they didn't simply have him present his own casework?"

Laughing softly, Nick replied, "You'd have to see Greg to understand. He doesn't really.he's a little unusual. Which is fine for the lab, but not so good for a jury. When he finally grows out of the compulsive need for blue and green hair, he'll be able to take a step up in his job."

Gil's eyebrows lifted. "Blue and green hair?"

"On a calm day," Nick confirmed. "Hey, you haven't been here the whole time, have you?"

"The whole time?" Gil questioned, confused.

Nick pointed to the clock on the wall, which now read two a.m. "Did you at least eat something?"

Startled, Gil shook his head and said, "I didn't honestly notice the time passing. It's a very interesting case."

"Well, why don't you hang on for half an hour and I'll have the admin make copies for you to take home?" Nick suggested. "That way you can be interested in comfort."

"Oh, no, you don't have to trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble," Nick interrupted, smiling and reaching for the phone.

When he hung up, Gil offered a brief smile of his own and said, "Thank you, Nick."

"Hey, it's my pleasure," Nick replied, then realized that he meant it. He was going to say more when his cell went off. "Stokes."

"There's been another murder," Brass announced from the other end. Nick stiffened and demanded, "Where?"

"Calder St."

Right off the Strip, he thought, anger rising. "Okay. I'll be right there. Did you call Warrick?"

"That's your job now, bossman."

Nick snorted. "Yeah, okay. We'll be there in ten."

Brass hung up without delay and Nick turned his attention back to Gil. "Sorry, I've gotta go. I'll catch you later."

"Good luck," Gil called after him.

But Nick knew he needed more than just luck to catch The Ripper.

* * * *

When shift finally ended two days later, Nick was ready to collapse. Having only caught cat naps on the uncomfortable sofa in his office during the last forty-eight hours, his feet were more than dragging as he shuffled to his office. They'd finally managed to break the case, thanks to the fighting spirit of the fifth, and last, victim.

"Nick, you have a minute?" Sara called from behind.

Groaning to himself and eyeing the door to his office with some longing, Nick stopped and turned around. He forced a smile and answered, "Sure thing, Sara. What's up?"

"I was wondering," she began, a flush creeping over her face. "Do you think that Dr. Grissom would be interested in having dinner some night?"

Nick frowned at her, taken by surprise. "You want to date Grissom? What about his reputation?"

Shrugging it off, Sara replied, "If he really was behind so many crimes, someone would have linked him to at least one by now. And besides, would the lab really risk its own reputation by hiring him if there were anything to the rumors? I think most of it's conjecture and jealousy."

"Jealousy?"

"Well, he's brilliant and quietly wealthy. You really only need one to get on people's bad side," Sara pointed out.

Nick nodded acknowledgement of that and said, "I don't know if he'd want to have dinner, Sara, but I can't see where he'd do more than turn you down politely if you ask."

The flush intensified and she asked, "Could you, well, test the waters for me? I only met him very, very briefly during his last consultation."

What is this, high school? he wondered in irritation. Nick didn't call her on it, though, knowing how difficult it was for Sara to make a connection to anyone. Instead, he sighed and agreed, "Sure, I can run it by him the next time I see him."

"Do you know when that'll be?" Sara pressed.

Nick shook his head. "Honestly, Sara, I don't think I could plan my own clothes for tomorrow's shift right now, I'm so tired. Give me a couple days, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course," she acquiesced, smiling self- consciously. "Get some sleep."

Nick huffed in amusement and replied, "That's all I'm gonna be doing for the next twenty-four hours, I promise you that."

She headed back to the elevator and Nick continued on to his office, glad he only had to grab his jacket and head out. Of course, since the subject had been brought up, Nick couldn't help thinking about Gil's reputation; the good, the bad, and the ugly. The man was brilliant, no one was questioning that. He'd even been offered a position at the lab about ten years before, but had turned it down for unstated reasons.

While no one knew where his money came from, Nick was sure that no one had truly sat down to do some forensic accounting, Gil had a lot of it. The man kept company with a number of casino owners throughout town, which was where Catherine had met him, and he owned a nice little mansion in the richer part of Las Vegas, just outside the city proper. Nick had heard that it rested on a good five acres of land, which worth more than the house itself of course, and had the security setup of a Mafioso. Nick just wasn't sure if that was fact or fiction.

There'd been a number of crimes that were whispered to have been committed by Grissom, though none of them violent ones. Passionless crimes that took a lot of brainpower and balls, both of which Grissom had aplenty, by all accounts. Theft of priceless art and ancient artifacts. Industrial espionage. Hacking into banks and rerouting money to untraceable accounts. Having finally met the man, Nick dismissed all the rumors except, maybe, the missing artifacts. He somehow had no trouble envisioning Grissom surrounded by priceless art, or carefully reading a first edition David Copperfield.

One thing he couldn't reconcile, though, was Catherine's antipathy towards Gil and the way others called him cold and quietly vicious. A lot of people had real fear when they talked about the man, but Nick just didn't get it. From what he'd seen, and Nick considered himself a good judge of character, Grissom was reserved, cool even, but not mean or cruel, at least not in Nick's presence. His intelligence should have engendered a certain amount of arrogance, but Nick had barely noticed any sign of it.

Shaking the mystery of the man from his mind, at least temporarily, Nick yawned hugely and headed out to his car.

* * * *

Having slept a solid eleven hours, Nick was completely refreshed by the time next shift came around. He sang slight off-key on his way into work and smiled broadly at everyone he passed.

"You're in a good mood," Warrick observed, joining him in the break room. "Someone get lucky last night?"

Nick grinned and poured obscene amounts of sugar into his coffee, given that it wasn't a Greg-brew in the pot. "Even better than that, my friend. I got eleven hours of uninterrupted sleep! I am rarin' to go today."

Smirking as he snatched the sugar from Nick, Warrick agreed, "I can see that."

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Make me."

"You don't wanna go there, `Rick!"

"You wanna bet, white boy?"

"Oh now it's on."

Nick grinned as they played a mix of basketball and keep-away with the sugar canister until Catherine announced, "Excuse me boys, but no running in the house, please?"

"Busted," Warrick observed, chuckling breathlessly.

Laughing, Nick swiped the sugar back while Warrick was distracted and exclaimed, "Yes! I am the Champeen!"

Catherine's eyes rolled as she replied, "Well, Champ, there's work to do today, or didn't you notice?"

"Yes, Mom," Nick agreed, trying to look chastened.

Shaking her head, Catherine left them muttering about overgrown teenagers.

Nick set the sugar back on the counter and asked Warrick, "So. You in the mood for death, destruction, or the end of the world?"

"Let's go with something different. I'll take the end of the world," Warrick answered.

Grinning, Nick pulled a slip of paper from his back pocket and handed it over with, "Paris is burning, man. Get your butt over there and see what's going on with their electrical system."

Warrick arched an eyebrow. "Since when did we become electricians?"

"Since there was a body found in their subbasement burned to a crisp."

"That'd do it."

"Be careful," Nick called after him.

Warrick waved back, but kept going.

Nick grabbed his coffee cup and headed out for his own assignment; a dead prostitute in an alley.

* * * *

It wasn't for another few days that Nick got a chance to put forward Sara's request and test the waters. Grissom had just finished giving his testimony and Nick was at the courthouse on an unrelated matter when they bumped into each other. Literally. Laughing at himself, Nick steadied the other man and apologized, "Sorry about that. Been a busy day and I think I stopped looking where I was going about two hours back."

Gil smiled at him. "Not a problem, no damage done, Nick. How are you?"

"Good, thanks. Yourself?" Nick asked.

"Just finished my testimony for the Wilson case," Gil told him. "I think it went very well, though of course we won't know until the jury comes back."

Nick nodded and agreed, "It's always a bitch to wait, but thanks for all the hard work. I heard through the grapevine that you did a great job."

"I just presented the facts, which speak for themselves. Your lab tech did a spotless job," Gil replied.

There was a brief pause before Nick remembered Sara's request and asked, "So, how would you feel about going out to dinner some night with someone you kinda work with?"

Gil stared at him a moment in surprise, then smiled again and replied, "I'd love to, Nick. Where would you like to go?"

Oh crap, Nick thought and hurriedly exclaimed, "No! I mean, I didn't mean me. See, there's someone I work with and they were wondering if you would be, ah, averse to going out some time."

There was a friendly wink and Gil said, "You tell that someone that I would be delighted to go out and to name the time and place. And now, unfortunately, I need to head out to an appointment. I look forward to that call, Nick."

Nick watched as the other man walked away and groaned to himself over how he'd botched things.

* * * *

"You what?"

Nick sighed at Sara's furious exclamation. "I'm so sorry, Sara, I totally didn't even think about how it would sound to Gil. I mean, I was asking for you, but then he didn't believe me when I tried to explain. I guess if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself."

"Well why bother, if he's interested in you?" Sara snapped before storming out of his office.

Thumping his head against the desk a few times didn't make him feel any better, unfortunately. Nick leaned back in his chair and stared up at the water-stained ceiling. As usual, he'd made a mess of things and now he'd be lucky if Sara didn't make his life a living hell until she became interested in someone else. He sure as hell couldn't call Grissom to go out with him and not expect a firestorm waiting when word got out.

Now wait a second here, he thought to himself in surprise. When the hell did you start thinking about dating Grissom?

About the time he said yes, the smug part replied.

Nick sighed, knowing that the other man would quickly lose interest in him, just like all the others had. He'd really thought that his last relationship would go the distance but, as usual, Nick had turned out to be just too needy for Larry to deal with after a while. Just like all the others. He supposed that it was false advertising in a way, because he came across as confident and independent, when he really wasn't. Well, not about his private life anyhow. Work was a whole different situation.

So did he really want to get involved with someone of Grissom's caliber knowing ahead of time that he was just going to get burned again? Thinking about the attraction to the other man that he couldn't deny, Nick sighed and looked at the phone like it might bite him.