Title: Why do you always do this?
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cockroaches. Well, I'm scared of them.
Disclaimer: Neither making nor hope to make money from this. CSI, its characters etc are not my property.
Summary: Catherine's onto Grissom.

Catherine's POV:

In the break room, Catherine's observing Grissom through narrowed eyes. Over the past two weeks he's been... well, she'd use the word odd, but the dictionary already has Grissom's picture under the definition of "odd".

So, he's been what? Bouncier? She hesitates to put that adjective and Grissom together, but he has seemed somewhat... happier. No, she's not sure that's right either. Gil is generally serious and calm, but she doesn't think he feels happy or unhappy. Actually, Catherine doesn't think that Grissom gives much, if any, notice to his emotional state; he seems to operate under the assumption that if he ignores it, it will go away.

Maybe less focused? No, Grissom still has laser-sharp focus. Of course, it's only on the things that he wants to focus on, but nothing new there. Cases, fieldwork, experiments involving the electrocution of pickles? Check. Paperwork, meetings, dealing with staff performance? Not a chance, or a messy one at best, generally leaving clean-up duty to her.

She sighs in frustration, only realizing she did so loudly when three pairs of eyes swing her way.

"Something on your mind, Catherine?" Grissom asks.

There! There! He's eating and simultaneously perusing a periodical with some particularly gruesome accompanying pictures. Two weeks ago, he might, might, have looked up at her sigh, but to actually ask an open-ended question that could possibly evoke a long answer and keep him away from his precious reading material? No way.

She starts to respond to him, but Grissom's already looking down again, flipping a page. She closes her mouth. He looks up for a second, flashing a vague smile in her general direction, but he's miles away. OK, she definitely misread that.

She exchanges looks with Warrick and Nick, who are sitting at the table with them. They're looking expectantly at her, waiting for her response. Warrick, sitting opposite her, cocks an inquiring eyebrow. She smiles brightly at them.

"Just thinking about the weekend and all the errands I've got to run. Summer's almost over and Lindsay needs to get ready for school again. What about you guys? Warrick?"

"Working" Warrick shrugs, "same ole, same ole".

There it is again, a kind of wrongness about Grissom. He's sitting at her left and a glance his way confirms that he's still reading his periodical, but there's an odd stillness about him, a waiting quality, a tension. She's known him too long, something's up. Catherine puzzles over it, meanwhile looking at Nick.

"What about you, Nick?" she asks.

Nick's sitting at her right and he's just taken a particularly large bite out of his sandwich. He has that embarrassed look that people get when they're wondering which part of etiquette they should follow: not talk with their mouth full or not keep someone waiting for an answer. He compromises, making a couple of close-lipped "mmphh" noises, to show that he's trying to answer, while chewing and swallowing rapidly.

"No particular plans", he finally says. "I might do some hiking, if the weather holds up. Maybe go out for dinner with a friend Saturday night".

"A ‘friend'", Warrick repeats, his voice curling suggestively.

Nick just looks down at his sandwich, shaking his head and grinning, his ears turning slightly red at the tips, while on Catherine's left, Grissom abruptly scrapes his chair back and stands up, tucking the periodical under his arm, hurriedly gathering up the empty food container and his coffee-cup ("Don't bug me!" the cup says, a gift from Catherine last Christmas).

"Catherine. Gentlemen", he says, his calm voice at odds with his jittery behavior. He almost fumbles everything as he backs away from the table, but he somehow manages to reach the trash can and safely toss the container. He saves the periodical that's sliding out from under his arm and hurries out of the room. It's a particularly graceless exit, even for Grissom, and the three remaining at the table just stare after him.

"What's been eating him?" Warrick asks.

"You've noticed something too?" Catherine says eagerly, never above some gossip.

"Something", Warrick agrees, "but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe for the last week or so. What about you, Nick?"

Nick shakes his head again. "Nah man, can't say I've noticed something", he says, his drawl a bit more pronounced than usual and there's an odd, shifty quality to his voice that Catherine notices. He's such a gentleman sometimes, she thinks fondly. Trust Nick with his Texas upbringing to feel uncomfortable with gossiping about his supervisor. Look, he's still blushing.

"There you are", Sara sticks her head in the break room. "Nick, Warrick, I've been looking for you guys. We've got two DBs in a dumpster and Vega is waiting for us at the scene."

----

A few hours later, Catherine wearily looks at her watch. Only half an hour until the weekend and she's fried. What she needs is a little brainless busy-work. She heads down the hallway, sticks her head in Grissom's office - and freezes as she takes in the scene in front of her.

"Off to somewhere?" she asks icily. There's a garment bag and a briefcase on Grissom's desk. They shouldn't be there, because he's not going anywhere this weekend, he's working.

Grissom has his back to the door, bending over the glass terrarium with his racing cockroaches, gently guiding 3 into a smaller box. He doesn't quite jump when he hears Catherine's voice, but his back goes all tense. He turns slowly and not-quite looks at her.

"Two-day conference in Atlanta. Leaving this morning. I told you about this, didn't I?" he asks.

She stands speechless for a second, opening and closing her mouth. A couple of inarticulate sounds later, she recovers her faculty for speech.

"You know full well you did not tell me this. I would remember if you told me this, because it would mean that I wouldn't have arranged to go clothes shopping with Lindsay this weekend. I knew something was up with you, I just knew it! Gil, why do you always do this?"

At least he has the good grace to try and look apologetic, although she can't help but question his sincerity when she sees the left corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Maybe it's just a nervous grimace, but she really doesn't think so.

"Uh, I'll make it up to you?" he suggests and she just shakes her head and walks out of the office again.

She should be angry, because she suspects, no she knows, that Grissom does this on purpose. He ignores the social norms that are in place to ease human interactions, just so that nobody will get the impression they can rely on him, just so that he can maintain his precious independence. But he's also one of the oldest friends she's got. He's stood by her and actively supported her time and time again, despite the fact that she lives her life according to different rules, rules he sometimes disagrees with. So she's irritated, yes, she's very, very irritated, but she's not really angry.

"And so why do I always do this?" she mutters to herself, as she starts working though her mental list of standby sitters, wondering which one she should try calling first. At least this is better than being handed a napkin for a speech in a gala event, she reflects, grinning despite herself.

Nick's POV:

There are some small consolations in life, he thinks. Walking into the break room with Warrick, they find Catherine and Grissom already there. Warrick immediately grabs the seat opposite Catherine (of course). So Nick gets to sit in front of Grissom and look at him to his heart's delight, without anyone thinking anything about it. Grissom's just in his natural range of vision, isn't he?

Man, it's been a frustrating couple of weeks. Any other time he'd have thought weeks like the past two were godsent. Bad things kept on happening to people, that was the nature of the beast, but the graveyard shift just kept on hitting home runs, right out of the field. Fewer bad deeds were going to go unpunished. Even Grissom had been looking happier.

Or so Nick was being told. Because in 2 whole weeks he didn't work a single case with Grissom. Dammit, Nick thinks, glaring at his sandwich. He blew it, he totally blew it. What the hell was he thinking of? Stroking his boss' cheek? He's lucky he still has a job. No wonder Grissom's been avoiding him like the plague. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Catherine, who's been quiet, probably thinking about one of her cases, suddenly sighs. There's so much frustration in the sound that all three men look at her.

"Something on your mind, Catherine?" Grissom asks.

There you go, Nick, he thinks. Hear the tone of voice? It's just Grissom being Grissom. Caring and gentle with his friends and his team, when he thinks they're upset about something. Nothing more. Nothing. At first, Nick had convinced himself that it had to mean something when Grissom handled him so gently in the parking lot, so soon after The Incident. But then he saw the light. As one day succeeded another, as each day Grissom assigned cases and Nick heard "Sara, you're with me" or "Warrick, you're with me" or "Pretty-much-anyone-except-Nick, you're with me", he got the message.

He's so deep in his thoughts, he doesn't hear Catherine answer, but she must have said something, because Grissom smiles at her and looks down at his magazine again. Nick tries to concentrate on her, as she turns to them with a bright smile.

"Just thinking about the weekend and all the errands I've got to run. Summer's almost over and Lindsay needs to get ready for school again. What about you guys? Warrick?"

"Working" Warrick shrugs, "same ole, same ole".

Shit, shit, shit. He's next. What will he say? "Oh, I'm just planning on moping at home until Monday shift starts, maybe watch March of the Penguins for the hundredth time. And maybe I'll just kick myself every so often for being such a royal fuckup"

"What about you, Nick?" she asks.

Nick takes a large bite out of his sandwich. Why the hell is Grissom staring at him like that all of a sudden? He'd hardly acknowledged Nick up to that point, his nose stuck in his forensics periodical, so why is he suddenly so interested in Nick's weekend? Nick makes a great show of chewing and swallowing.

"No particular plans", he finally says. "I might do some hiking, if the weather holds up. Maybe go out for dinner with a friend Saturday night".

"A ‘friend'", Warrick repeats, his voice curling suggestively.

Nick just looks down at his sandwich, shaking his head and grinning. Shut up, Warrick, he thinks, shut up, move on to the next topic. Seconds later Grissom abruptly scrapes his chair back and stands up, tucking the periodical under his arm, hurriedly gathering up the empty food container and his coffee-cup.

"Catherine. Gentlemen", he says, his calm voice at odds with his jittery behavior. He almost fumbles everything as he backs away from the table, but he somehow manages to reach the trash can and safely toss the container. He saves the periodical that's sliding out from under his arm and hurries out of the room. It's a particularly graceless exit, even for Grissom, and the three remaining at the table just stare after him.

"What's been eating him?" Warrick asks.

"You've noticed something too?" Catherine says eagerly, never above some gossip.

"Something", Warrick agrees, "but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe for the last week or so. What about you, Nick?"

Nick shakes his head again. "Nah man, can't say I've noticed something", he says, fighting hard to keep his tone flat and normal. But inside him, a small voice starts, growing louder and louder, more exultant, impossible to stop, almost singing, endlessly repeating the same phrase in small variations: Grissom cares. He cares. He must care.

"There you are", Sara sticks her head in the break room. "Nick, Warrick, I've been looking for you guys. We've got two DBs in a dumpster and Vega is waiting for us at the scene."

The other voice, the adult voice, the voice telling Nick that he's been putting a ridiculous interpretation on what was most probably Grissom just getting an attack of the runs, doesn't manage to impose itself until several hours later, when he's standing knee-deep in garbage.

"Man, why do you always do this" he asks himself in self-disgust. "Just grow up."

Grissom's POV:

In the break room, Gil is aware of Catherine's veiled stare. She looks pissed at him, but he doesn't really understand why. Is it about her having to work this weekend? Generally she's happy to take all the shifts she can, partly for the extra money, partly because she doesn't want to miss a chance to prove herself to everybody.

He's also aware of Nick's fleeting looks from across the table. Gil knows what Nick is feeling. He's been there before, more than once. When Nick is around he thinks he wants to go there again. But when he's alone and at peace, with his books, studying his insects, he knows he really doesn't. So he stays away from Nick. He's made his decision and every day he feels better about it. Then, the sentiment springs unbidden and rebellious: It's been two god-awful weeks.

Catherine sighs, trying to attract his attention.

"Something on your mind, Catherine?" Gil asks. When he sees her triumphant expression, he looks down again, flipping a page of the periodical, deliberately ignoring her. He loves Catherine, but sometimes he gets tired of her efforts to get him to "join the world", as she terms it. He looks up again and smiles vaguely at her, just to make sure she gets the point. Then he starts reading again.

"Just thinking about the weekend and all the errands I've got to run" he hears her say after a small pause. "Summer's almost over and Lindsay needs to get ready for school again. What about you guys? Warrick?"

"Working" Warrick shrugs, "same ole, same ole".

Gil stares at the periodical fixedly, a sinking sensation in his stomach. What was she talking about? He told her he needed her to cover for him, didn't he? He must have. He didn't. Shit.

"What about you, Nick?" he hears Catherine ask and he looks up at Nick automatically, caring about the answer despite himself.

Across him, Nick's just taken a particularly large bite out of his sandwich. He has that embarrassed look that people get when they're wondering which part of etiquette they should follow: not talk with their mouth full or not keep someone waiting for an answer. He compromises, making a couple of close-lipped "mmphh" noises, to show that he's trying to answer, while chewing and swallowing rapidly.

"No particular plans", he finally says. "I might do some hiking, if the weather holds up. Maybe go out for dinner with a friend Saturday night".

"A ‘friend'", Warrick repeats, his voice curling suggestively.

Sometimes when he's looking at Nick, Gil forgets himself and the Siren's song is so sweet: someone young and beautiful, offering to share their life with him. Hiking, Gil muses, blocking the Siren's voice. Paragliding. Yeah, there'd be a match made in heaven. He has a sudden vision of himself holding a butterfly net, chasing after a paragliding Nick. A tired sadness washes over him and he looks away.

And he sees Matthews, one of the swing shift supervisors striding, by the door. Gil abruptly scrapes his chair back and stands up, tucking the periodical under his arm, hurriedly gathering up the empty food container and his coffee-cup ("Don't bug me!" the cup says, a gift from Catherine last Christmas).

"Catherine. Gentlemen", he says. He tosses the container in the trashcan, anchors the periodical more firmly under his arm and hurries out of the room in order to catch up with Matthews.

"Charlie" he calls out. "Can I speak to you for a second?"

----

A few hours later, Gil is mustering together his team for the race that will end the conference, his garment bag and briefcase on his desk, almost ready to go.

"Off to somewhere?" he hears Catherine's icy voice behind him. He turns slowly and looks at her.

"Two-day conference in Atlanta. Leaving this morning. I told you about this, didn't I?" he asks.

She stands speechless for a second, opening and closing her mouth. A couple of inarticulate sounds later, she recovers her faculty for speech.

"You know full well you did not tell me this. I would remember if you told me this, because it would mean that I wouldn't have arranged to go clothes shopping with Lindsay this weekend. I knew something was up with you, I just knew it! Gil, why do you always do this?"

She's standing in front of him in righteous indignation, certain that she will have to cover for him. She looks irritated but seems to relish the opportunity to lecture him. He sometimes thinks she lives for moments like this and he can't resist the impulse.

He tries to look apologetic, although he can't help the left corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Uh, I'll make it up to you?" he suggests and she just shakes her head and walks out of the office again.

Gil grins. He'll let her stew a bit, then call her from the car and let her know that Matthews is covering for him.