By: Lady Jane
Pairing Gil/Nick
Rating NC-17
Category Established relationship, Drama, Romance, Humor
Spoilers Up through Season 3
Summary Grissom finds the tables have been turned on him in more than one way.
Series/sequel Third in the Only You series
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It was the blindfold being pulled down over his eyes that awakened him. Instinct was to remove the obstruction. Without sight he felt...vulnerable.
That was when he became aware of the bonds.
His arms had been pulled above his head, crossed at the wrists and lashed together, the remaining length of cord leading to the headboard where it was tied. The cords felt soft as velvet but had the strength of nylon rope. His struggles accomplished nothing except to heighten his level of anxiety.
"What the hell is this?"
"Shut up."
Grissom stilled. "Nicky?" he questioned hesitantly, turning his head to the left, the direction the growled words had come from.
"Who else?" Nick leaned down, his cinnamon-scented breath wafting over Gil's cheek. "You'd sure as hell better not be expecting anyone else in our bed," he warned, tongue flicking out.
Gil shivered, and his cock twitched when that hot, wet tongue delved into his ear once, twice, three times. No one else had ever discovered just how sensitive his ears were; only Nicky knew what a truly erogenous zone they were and had used it against him on more than one occasion.
"What are you doing?" Grissom questioned breathlessly.
"What? You want to know why I have you trussed up like a calf at branding time?"
"That's not quite the analogy I would have used, but yes."
"I'm fulfilling a promise." Nick's teeth sank sharply into one of Grissom's biceps, not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to create a pleasurable kind of pain.
Grissom's breath hissed inward and his cock twitched again, despite the uncertainty of the situation.
"You remember that promise, don't you, Gil?" Nick murmured silkily before licking first one already-hardened nipple, then the other.
"Oh, God."
Nick chuckled against Gil's neck. "Yeah, I thought you would."
And he did. In the eight months he and Nick had been together they'd dabbled in B/D a few times, though they'd never gotten into the heavy duty S/M like they'd seen at Lady Heather's Dominion. Neither one of them was into humiliation. He'd tied Nick up, had even spanked him, although he'd never used a blindfold.
The occasion Nick was referring to had happened nearly two months ago. He'd seen the new receptionist at work flirting with Nick, and Nick, being Nick, had flirted right back. He knew it was just an automatic reaction, a part of the man's Texas charm, but it had awakened a surge of jealousy within him. He knew he was the only man Nick had ever been with, but seeing him flirting with a woman had been threatening.
When they arrived home the next morning he didn't even give Nick time to eat. Instead he'd grabbed the back of the younger man's head and fused their mouths together, all the while propelling him towards the bedroom. He stripped Nick in record time, then shoved him down on the bed and tied his arms to either side of the headboard.
Wanting to make sure Nick knew to whom he belonged, he'd felt the need to push the limits further than ever before. He'd had Nick tied up, hard and aching for hours, bringing him to the brink over and over, then backing off and starting all over again. Nick had begged, pleaded, cursed, and then begged some more.
It was the vow that had finally pushed Grissom to the edge.
"Damn it, Gil, what are you doing to me? I need to fucking come! Oh, man, please let me come. Please, Gil, please," Nick begged, nearly sobbing with need, straining against the silk ties holding him. "I can't take anymore."
Grissom merely laughed and continued his torment.
"Payback's a bitch, Gil," Nick said roughly, panting for release, hips arching off the bed. "You remember that, `cause one day, when you least expect it, I swear I'm gonna turn the tables on you and you'll find yourself on the receiving end. Oh, yeah, I'm gonna tie you up, then tease you until you're so hard you'll sell your fucking soul to come, and then I'm going to fuck you into the next week."
The images Nick evoked were too much for Gil. He'd never been submissive, never been a bottom, but the thought of a dominant Nick pounding into him shattered his well-known control. With a growl he shoved Nick's knees up to his sweat-slick chest and pushed into him dry, exploding after a mere half dozen strokes. And Nick was right there with him, lifting his head for a soul-deep kiss as his cum bathed them both.
The mere memory of that session was enough to overcome any lingering feelings of vulnerability and take his cock from merely interested to primed-and-ready-iron-pike-hard in seconds flat. This was Nick, the only person he'd ever given his heart and soul to, and he wanted to belong to him in a way he'd never belonged to anyone else.
"Nick," he breathed, love, need, and a touch of apprehension all rolled up into that one word.
"Oh, yeah, baby," Nick said huskily, nibbling on Gil's jaw line, one hand ghosting over pubic hair that was starting to show signs of gray. "You want this, don't you?" He sucked on an earlobe. "You want me to be top dog." His teeth skimmed Gil's ribs. "You want to know what it's like to have a hard cock buried deep inside you."
"Only you," Grissom gasped as Nick's tongue stroked into his navel.
"That's right, only me." He lightly bit into one hair-roughened thigh, feeling the muscle tense under his mouth.
The blindfold, Gil realized, was neither a turn-off nor a deterrent. Not as long as it was Nick on the other side. He trusted Nick. In fact, once he got beyond the initial fear, he found the idea of not being able to see what his young lover was going to do next rather erotic. Every nerve ending in his body was tingling in anticipation.
Nick continued his sensual assault on Grissom's body with no apparent plan. He kissed the arch of one foot, then sucked on the bend of an elbow. His fingers caressed Gil's hipbones before lightly tracing the contours of his face, the tip of one finger making a quick foray into Grissom's open mouth, withdrawing before Gil could suck the finger in deeper.
Grissom couldn't decide if he was in heaven or hell. Heaven was having his cock engulfed by Nick's hot mouth, throat muscles contracting around the head. Hell was having that mouth removed after one quick suck. Nick had a mouth that could bring a dead man to life, and Gil was far from dead.
That mouth was suddenly on Grissom's, his tongue demanding entrance. Grissom moaned at the invasion and the taste of his own precum on Nick's tongue as it stroked the inside of his mouth, sliding sensuously over his own tongue.
Nick kissed his way over the stubbled jaw, down the neck tendons and on to suck on the collarbone; Grissom knew it would leave a mark, but considering how many times he'd marked Nick, he thought it only fair. Not to mention it gave him a little thrill to know that just under his clothes would be a sign of Nick's possessiveness.
When Nick's lips closed over a nipple, Grissom gasped and said, "You have a mouth made for sin, Nicky."
Said mouth was currently working its way up the inside of a thigh. He held his breath the further north that mouth traveled, groaning when it stopped just before reaching the crease where leg met body.
His groan of frustration turned into a gasp of arousal when Nick returned to his ear, his tongue exploring every crevice and whorl, his teeth nipping at the lobe. Every nip and lick went straight to his dick like a physical caress.
"Nicky," he said plaintively.
Nick chuckled and continued his torment. His nose nuzzled Grissom's underarm; his hand skated down a leg before his fingers carded through the light covering of hair over the broad chest.
Grissom bucked and twisted, trying to arch into the all-too-fleeting kisses and caresses. Deprived of his sight, he discovered his other senses were all the more vivid and alert. He supposed it could be considered a sensory deprivation experiment, but right now science was the last thing on his mind.
Only his need for Nick could trump his need for empirical knowledge.
The bed shifted as Nick moved, and Grissom's breath caught in anticipation when he heard the nightstand drawer sliding open. That trapped breath released as a strangled gasp when a lubed finger began teasing his anal pucker, working slowly past the tight ring.
"Oh, God, Nicky."
"It's okay, darlin'," Nick whispered in Grissom's ear. "You made my first time good, and I'm gonna return the favor." He nuzzled Grissom's jaw. "You were saving your virginity for me, weren't you, Gil?"
"Yes, Nicky," he breathed.
"Just like I saved mine for you."
Grissom shuddered when Nick's long finger slid all the way in. This was the first time he'd ever been fingered. The yearly doctor's exam certainly didn't count.
Grissom's breathing quickened, each new sensation assailing him. Nick kissed his hipbone, his sweat-soaked hair tickling Grissom's groin. His finger continued the in-and-out motion, curving on each in-stroke to brush against Gil's prostate.
"Damn it all to hell and back, Nicky," Grissom gasped. "For someone who's never done this before, you're damned good."
Nick chuckled as he nipped at Grissom's love handles. "I had a good teacher. Dr. Grissom himself taught me."
Grissom would have smirked if he'd been able to, but that was beyond him at that point in time.
"Think you're ready for two fingers?"
"Yes," Grissom hissed. "Do it now, Nicky."
Nick removed his finger long enough to add more lube, then slowly inserted two fingers, working them in gently and biting his lip to hold back his own moan when Grissom made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat.
"You're beautiful, Gil. I wish you could see yourself right now, all laid out like an offering, body flushed, cock hard and rosy and dripping precum."
The in-and-out movements of his fingers punctuated Nick's words. All Grissom could do was groan, head tilted back on his pillow, arms straining against his bonds. Nick's mouth fastened on the vulnerable sweet spot just under Grissom's chin, earning a deep, throaty sound of pleasure.
"Nicky."
Nick's tongue flicked into the cleft of Grissom's chin as his fingers began a scissoring motion, loosening him for the coming invasion. It wasn't time yet, though. There was a little matter of payback to tend to. Grissom wouldn't be allowed to come anytime in the near future. Of course that meant he wouldn't be getting off anytime soon either, but it was more than worth the wait for the opportunity to fuck Gil.
"How you doin', Gil?"
"Fine, Nicky. I'll be more than fine when you finally get around to fucking me."
Nick chuckled, and while it wasn't as evil sounding as what Gil was capable of, it got his point across. Gil knew in that moment that Nick fully intended to keep his promise and make him beg. Just how much time and stimulus would it take before he broke down and begged, before Nick shattered his control?
"Okay, Gil, I'm goin' for three."
Grissom tensed when the third finger was introduced. Nick stopped, not wanting to cause him any pain.
"Relax, Gil. Bear down on my fingers and open yourself up. It'll feel so good, I promise."
Grissom did as instructed, gasping in surprise when Nick's fingers slid into him, the fullness unlike anything he'd ever known. How much better would it be when Nick finally got around to putting his cock there? As it was, he knew if he'd been a cartoon character, his eyes would have been bugging out behind the blindfold.
"Oh...Nicky."
"You're doin' good, Gil," Nick said, his voice a bit rough. He was grateful Gil couldn't see just how shaky he was. Control was of the utmost importance in this endeavor. That was why he'd used the blindfold. For once Gil Grissom had to let someone else be in control and trust that person to keep him safe.
The fact that he was the person Grissom trusted enough to give over control to awed him.
"No," Grissom groaned in protest when Nick's fingers pulled free.
Nick chuckled again. "Don't worry, we're not through. Not by a long shot."
Grissom stilled, trying to hear what Nick was doing. From the wet, squishy noises he heard, he knew Nick was applying lubricant, and he held his breath in anticipation for that first touch of flesh to flesh.
Only it wasn't what he expected.
"Nicky! What the hell is that?"
"Shh, Gil, it's okay. I bought this just for you. I wanted to make sure you stayed loose until I'm ready to fuck you."
"It's a butt plug?"
Nick laughed. Grissom could sometimes sound so prissy, and the fact that he used that tone of voice to say butt plug was just too funny.
Grissom's breathing was a bit erratic by that time. The toy produced the same feeling of fullness as Nick's fingers, but it wasn't enough. It just sat there, not moving and not touching his prostate. All it did was make him want more.
"Nick. Nicky."
"Damn, Gil, you look hot like that. I can't wait to get inside you."
"Now, do it now, Nicky."
"Nope. You're not ready yet."
"I...am, Nicky." Grissom's voice was strained. Was it possible to die of frustration? It wasn't an experiment he was eager to conduct.
Nick chuckled and set about proving to Grissom just how much more ready he could be by kissing, licking and caressing everywhere except the hard, aching shaft that was literally bouncing with the need for attention.
"Oh...damn, Nicky. Never knew you had...such a cruel...vindictive streak in you."
Nick leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Are you telling me you're not enjoying this, Gil? Because if that's what you're saying, I can stop right now."
"Bastard," Grissom gasped.
"That's what I thought. Now, let's turn you over."
With Nick's help Grissom managed to turn over onto his stomach. He groaned at the first contact of his hard cock with the mattress and couldn't resist rubbing against the sheets. His moan turned to a gasp when Nick's hand came down hard on his ass, leaving an imprint that burned and stung and oh, son of a bitch, felt good.
"Uh-uh, Gil. You know the rules. No coming until I say you can."
"Nicky."
"I like the way you say my name, all achy and needy, but I haven't heard the magic words yet."
Grissom knew what Nick wanted. His young lover wanted him begging, and he didn't know why he didn't just go ahead and give in. Was he subconsciously still fighting to maintain control? Or was he just enjoying this so much he wanted to make it last as long as possible? Either option was viable.
Nick began his sensual assault on Grissom's back, starting with the sensitive spot where hair met neck, moving on to shoulders and back. With lips and tongue he traced the line of Grissom's spine all the way down to the dimples just above his buttocks, then moved down to his feet and began working his way up, paying special attention to the area behind his knees, earning a heartfelt groan of appreciation, frustration and anticipation.
Nick finally moved on to Grissom's backside, both hands kneading the firm buttocks before his teeth sank into one cheek hard enough to leave a mark.
"Oh, shit."
Nick soothed the mark with a loving kiss, then ran his tongue down the dark, musky crevice between the cheeks, thoroughly turned-on by the whimpering noises Grissom was making. When he twisted the butt plug and Grissom shuddered, Nick felt it all the way through his own body.
By the time Nick worked his way back up to Grissom's ear, Gil was beyond whimpering. He was a shivering, aching mass of need, and he would have done anything to have Nick take it to the next level, to finally know what it meant to be possessed in the most elemental way.
"Please, Nicky," he whispered shakily, "I want you to fuck me. I'll even give you the words. I'm begging here, Nicky, fuck me till I come."
Nick said a silent thank you. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have been able to hold out. He'd already had to resort to pinching the base of his cock and pulling his balls away from his body to stave off his orgasm.
"Come on, Gil, I want you on your knees," he rasped. "I want to take you from behind."
Grissom whimpered again at the mere thought of Nick behind him. With Nick's help he awkwardly got to his knees, his bound hands grasping two of the spindles in the headboard. When Nick shoved his legs wider apart, he groaned at how open he felt, even with the toy still in him.
Nick grasped the butt plug and twisted it, causing Gil to hiss, then pulled it out slowly. Clasping Grissom's hips in both hands, Nick brought the head of his cock to the open and ready hole, pushing in slowly and carefully, causing both men to gasp at the incredible, indescribable sensation.
Grissom was panting as Nick slowly, slowly pushed his way in till he felt the wiry, curly hairs against the spread cheeks of his ass. He wanted to move, to push back, but Nick held him still, controlling his movements.
"Oh, God, Nicky, I never knew."
"I know," Nick murmured, laying over Grissom's back and cocooning him, lips kissing his neck, savoring this ultimate closeness.
Grissom groaned when Nick pulled out till just the head of his cock remained, then gasped when he thrust back in all the way.
"Nicky. Oh...I...oh...."
Nick smiled against Grissom's back as he thrust again. He loved this man, loved being inside him, loved the guttural sounds coming from his throat as they moved together in the oldest dance known to man.
Running a hand over the curve of Grissom's ass, he asked, "Who does this belong to?"
"You, Nicky, only you," Grissom managed.
"That's right. This is mine, too," Nick whispered in Grissom's ear as one hand slid around to grasp the older man's hard cock.
Grissom shuddered, arched his back and gasped sharply when Nick hit his prostate at the same time that he began stroking him. His fingers tightened around the spindles and he grunted as Nick began thrusting faster and harder, balls smacking his flesh resoundingly, headboard thudding against the wall.
"Oh! Faster, Nicky. Fuck me harder. Please."
"Love you, Gil. You're perfect. This...is perfect."
Nick vaguely wondered what the odds were for a healthy man his age having a heart attack from an overload of bliss. He wasn't sure the human body was meant to handle such intense sensations. But if he did pass over now, he'd die the happiest man in the world.
Grissom had lost the ability to speak by that time. Grunting was all he was capable of, as Nick possessed him in a way he'd never before imagined. He belonged to Nick heart, body and soul in the same way that Nick belonged to him. This was the best that life could be.
Knowing he was close to the edge, nearly unable to control his thrusts, Nick quickened his stroking of Grissom's cock. Grissom shouted Nick's name as he came, his inner muscles clenching around the hard cock drilling into him.
Nick set his jaw tightly and closed his eyes when he felt the spasms around him. Sinking his teeth into Grissom's shoulder, Nick's hips jerked violently, pumping his warm seed deep into his lover.
Both men were exhausted, panting breaths starting to slow, bodies sweat-slick and snuggling.
"Beautiful, Nicky," Grissom said softly. "I've never known anything so beautiful."
Nick rubbed his bristly cheek over the bite mark on Grissom's shoulder. "Everything we do together is beautiful."
"Nicky?"
"Hmm?"
"Can you untie me now? My legs are the consistency of overcooked pasta, and I don't think they'll hold me up much longer."
Nick smiled. Still lying over Grissom's back, he reached up to untie the cords from the headboard, whispering in Gil's ear, "Thank you for trusting me to take control. I know how difficult that is for you."
"There's no one I trust more."
Nick finished loosening the cords holding Grissom captive and gently lowered the older man to the bed. He unknotted the blindfold and helped Grissom turn over. Smiling into the dazed blue gaze, he pressed the softest of kisses to Grissom's lips and soothingly rubbed the red marks around his wrists.
"You have time for a short nap before we have to get ready for work."
Grissom's eyes were already drifting shut. "I think I'll take you up on that, Nicky."
Nick kissed his cheek and murmured, "Happy Valentine's Day, Gil."
Grissom fell asleep, sappy smile in place.
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Grissom waited till the team was assembled in the break room before going in to hand out assignments, thereby avoiding the issue of sitting. He tried to glare at the smug smile on Nick's face but was unable to fully manage it since his own lips kept twitching.
"Sara, Nick, Warrick, warehouse fire on Boulder Highway."
Sara took the slip of paper and read it before looking at Grissom. "Arson?"
"You tell me."
"I'll be sure to get pictures of all the bystanders," Nick said.
Grissom's eyes met his for the briefest visual caress before turning to Catherine. "You're with me."
"What do we have?"
Biting his lip, Grissom handed her the sheet.
Catherine scanned the paper.
"Dead Klingon." She shot Gil a look of pure venom. "God, Grissom, you're making me work the Trekkie convention?"
"Look at it this way, Cath," Warrick said. "You're always complaining about not having a social life. Lots of lonely guys at a Star Trek convention. Bet you could have your pick of the young and the hopeless."
Eyes narrowed, Catherine leaned over the table and succinctly said, "Bite me, Brown."
"You know, you'll probably even run into somebody you know," Nick commented, knowing for a fact Archie would be there.
"Oh, you guys are just too funny for words. Like I would know anyone who goes to those things."
"Care to make a friendly wager?"
Grissom narrowed his eyes as he peered at Nick over the top of his glasses. "Did you just suggest a bet, Nick?"
Nick blinked innocently. "Me? Making a bet at work? I really don't know what you mean, Gris."
"That's what I thought."
Warrick rolled his eyes at the way Nick worked around the question without actually answering it, giving the impression he'd never bet with a co-worker. And with his aw shucks – good ol' boy charm he was able to get away with the lie.
"Smooth, Nick," he muttered so that only Nick heard the words.
Back turned towards Grissom, Catherine mouthed the word ‘twenty'.
Nick's head dipped in a brief nod of acceptance.
As Warrick, Nick, and Sara left the room, Catherine turned to Grissom. "What is with you and Nick lately, anyway?"
Grissom's hesitation was so brief as to be nonexistent. "What do you mean?"
"You're...different with him these days. Are you mad at him?"
"Why would you think that?"
Catherine shrugged. "You haven't called him Nicky in months, and you rarely work cases with him anymore."
"No, I'm not mad at him. I call him Nick now because I thought he deserved a sign of respect after all he's been through and the way he's come through it, and he doesn't need so much supervision now."
That was what he told Catherine, and while it was true, it wasn't the whole truth. He still called him Nicky, but that name was reserved for their private moments. And he didn't work as many cases with him because he was afraid he'd spend too much time staring at that beautiful tight ass.
Brass already knew about their relationship. He couldn't afford anyone else finding out, so it was best just to remove temptation from his path.
Catherine looked at him a minute as if gauging the truthfulness of his words, then stood and grimaced. "Okay, let's go see about our dead Klingon."
"I guess phasers weren't set to stun."
"Oh, shut the hell up," Catherine muttered as she followed him from the room.
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It was happening again, the silencing of the world around him. It was occurring with greater frequency now, and it was damned scary. He didn't know if he had the courage to face potential deafness the way his mother had.
And every time it happened, he found himself walking, trying to find the missing sounds, as if they'd merely been misplaced.
This time it happened in the parking lot of the Tangiers while processing the crime scene of the dead conventioneer. Without warning his auditory acuity was gone and he just couldn't stay with the people around him, all of them talking but none of them being heard.
Head down, he began walking away from the DB, unaware of Catherine calling his name, then huffing in frustration when he didn't answer. And he didn't hear Brass comment about his concentration while on a case.
But he did find a bloody knife, quite possibly the murder weapon.
Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he bent down and reached under the back of a silver Mustang for the knife. Holding the bloody six-inch blade between thumb and forefinger, he stood up.
It was as he was straightening that his hearing came back with that strange, scratchy noise that sounded like a phonograph needle running over a vinyl record.
"Grissom!"
"Damn it, Gil, move!"
Eyes wide, Grissom spun around quickly when he heard the shouts of Catherine and Brass as they ran towards him. At the same time he became aware of the sound of a car accelerating.
While his reflexes were good as he jumped to the side, they just weren't good enough. It happened so fast but at the same time seemed to happen in slow motion, the white Honda Accord speeding towards him, hitting him, sending him flying backwards as Catherine screamed his name. The funny thing was the impact with the ground felt like it hurt worse than being hit by the car.
The car that didn't even slow down.
Catherine was at his side within seconds, kneeling beside him and stripping off her down jacket to lay over him. Right behind her, Brass was on the radio to dispatch, demanding an ambulance and calling in a description of the hit and run car.
"Cath-"
"Damn it, Grissom, don't move," she said sharply, hand in the middle of his chest.
"Catherine," he gasped.
"Gil, just lie there and be quiet."
Grissom sighed, wincing when he felt it in his ribs, but he had to make her listen. "Cath...the knife. B-bag it."
"Screw the knife," she growled, staring at the blood in the corner of his mouth.
"No." He had to swallow back a sudden bout of nausea. "Evidence."
"Only you would think about evidence at a time like this."
"Just...do it." He managed to sound authoritative, despite feeling faint. He was aware enough to realize he was hurt worse than he'd originally thought and was probably going into shock, but he needed to talk to Brass without Catherine hearing.
"Stubborn son of a bitch," she spat out, climbing to her feet, grabbing her flashlight and beginning the search for the knife that had flown out of his hand upon impact.
"Jim...."
Brass bent down next to Grissom, afraid to touch his friend because he had no idea how serious his injuries were. He settled for touching his shoulder. "I'm here, Gil."
"Nick," Grissom said softly. "You...have to...tell him."
"You don't ask for much, do you?"
"Trust...you."
"Don't worry, Gil, I'll handle it."
"Good."
Grissom could taste that unique metallic copper flavor of the blood in his mouth and feel the blackness closing in. He hurt, oh, God, he hurt, but at the same time there was this horrible sense of numbness.
"Think I'm...gonna...pass out...n-"
"Shit." Brass turned his head to yell at one of the uniforms. "Get on the horn and find out where that damned ambulance is!"
David was by that time kneeling on the other side of Grissom, checking his pulse and pupils.
Brass swallowed around the lump in his throat. Gil was so still, so pale except for that obscenely bright trickle of blood in the corner of his mouth.
Seeing David touching him just felt...wrong. He knew David had the medical knowledge, but the young man only dealt with the dead. This just wasn't right. You never wanted to see a coroner lay hands on your best friend.
Catherine came back, bloody knife in one bag, bloody gloves in another. She knelt by Grissom's head, placing the evidence on the ground beside her. One trembling hand threaded softly through his salt-and-pepper hair. He looked so uncomfortable on the hard pavement, but she knew better than to move his head.
Tear-glazed eyes looked up at Brass. "Damn it, Jim, where's that ambulance?"
Even Jim's hangdog expression showed signs of relief when they heard sirens approaching. "It's here, Catherine. They'll take care of Gil."
Catherine, Jim and David stood up and moved out of the way while the paramedics worked on Grissom, checking his injuries and vitals, stabilizing him for the trip to the ER.
"I'm going with him," Catherine said forcefully, as if daring Brass to argue.
But he didn't. "I'll call in a member of Ecklie's team to finish up here."
"Thanks, Jim."
"I'll follow behind, but first-" he sighed "-first I need to let the rest of the team know."
Catherine grimaced. "I don't envy you dealing with Sara."
Sara was the least of his worries. Telling Nick would be the problem. How did he tell the man his partner had been injured, possibly seriously, while still managing to keep their relationship a secret?
He wasn't sure either he or Nick was up to the challenge.
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Brass considered it prudent to call in Ecklie's entire team. Nick, of course, would be going to the hospital, and he doubted he'd be able to keep Sara and Warrick away. He knew Grissom didn't realize just how loved and respected he was by his team.
Brass parked his car and just sat for a moment. He could see Nick, cap turned backwards, taking pictures of the perimeter of the burned-out warehouse, smiling and laughing when one of the on-scene cops spoke to him.
And he was about to wipe that smile right off his face.
Knowing he couldn't put it off any longer, Brass got out of his car and approached Nick.
"Nick."
Nick looked over his shoulder, grooves forming on either side of his mouth when he smiled. "Oh, hey, Jim."
Brass took a deep breath. He didn't want to do this; he really didn't, but there was no one else who knew what this would mean to Nick. Besides, he'd promised Gil.
"Nick, could I talk to you?"
Nick lowered his camera and turned towards Brass, curious as to what brought the man there. "What's up?"
Brass nodded his head in the direction of his unmarked sedan. "Let's talk in the car."
Nick looked at Brass strangely, then shrugged and followed him to the dark gray car, sliding into the passenger seat. He put his camera on the seat between them, pulled off his cap and laid it down before looking at Brass questioningly.
"Okay, so talk."
Brass stared unseeingly out the windshield, one hand clenched on the steering wheel.
"Jim?"
Brass sighed and turned to look at the young CSI, his eyes expressing a wealth of sadness. "Nick, there's been an accident. It's Gil."
Nick's breath caught, and he swallowed visibly. Even with only the glow from the parking lot security lights, Brass could see the color leech from Nick's face.
Nick went straight to what he considered most important. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know. He's been taken to Desert Palm."
"Oh, God." Nick closed his eyes briefly, knowing Desert Palm had a Trauma Unit. "What happened?"
"Hit and run."
Nick bit his lip but couldn't quite suppress a moan. "Tell me."
Brass sighed again. "He and Catherine were working the crime scene in the parking lot of the Tangiers. He wandered off and found a bloody knife." Jim shook his head. "It was like he didn't even hear us calling his name or hear the car."
Nick nodded. He'd noticed the same thing lately: Gil ignoring them, and it seemed to be more than just his legendary concentration. He should have called him on it. Maybe if he had, this wouldn't have happened.
Brass hit the wheel in frustration.
"Jim?"
"Damn it, Nick, that car accelerated before it hit him," he said harshly.
Nick's head snapped up. "You think this was intentional?"
Brass ran a hand over his face. "I don't know. It could have just been a drunk who couldn't tell the gas from the brake."
"But you don't think so."
Brass hesitated and then said, "No, I don't, but it's just a gut feeling."
"Your instincts have always been good," Nick said firmly, looking directly at Brass.
"I just don't know."
Nick lifted a shaking hand and rubbed his forehead. "I need to see him."
"I know, Nicky. That's why I'm here."
"Thanks, Jim."
"But first I need to tell Sara and Warrick. They can come to the hospital once Ecklie's team arrives."
Nick nodded as Brass got out of the car and headed into the warehouse. Taking a shuddering breath, he leaned his head back against the seat, tears glazing his velvety dark eyes. He couldn't lose Gil, he just couldn't.
Now he understood how Gil had felt every time he'd been in danger. It seemed this was, indeed, the day for turning the tables.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
"Oh, thank God," Catherine said when she saw Brass and Nick.
"How is he?" Brass asked.
"Damned if I know," Catherine said in frustration. "They won't talk to anyone but the person listed on the contact sheet, and that's you, Nick."
There was as much question as there was statement in her words, but Nick merely nodded and went in search of the doctor. Her brows drew together as she watched him walk away. When Nick was no longer in sight, she turned back to Brass.
"You knew Nick was Gil's contact person, didn't you? That's why you went to get him."
Brass sighed. "Yeah, I knew," he said, but that wasn't the reason he'd gone.
"When did this happen?"
"After Nigel Crane."
Catherine nodded. She could imagine why. Knowing Gil, he had probably come closer to facing his own mortality when a member of his team had been threatened than when he'd been face-to-face with Paul Millander and Sid Goggle.
"So they've told you nothing?" Brass asked, not wanting to let her think too long on the subject of Nick being Gil's contact person. Catherine was too astute by far.
"Nothing. I couldn't even stay in the cubicle with him when we arrived." Her hands were clenched into fists, a physical sign of the frustration she felt at this whole situation.
"Nick will let us know what's happening."
Catherine nodded, then asked, "How did Sara take it?"
Brass sighed tiredly. "About as well as you think. I thought she was going to get hysterical. Instead she started making noises about ‘taking care' of him."
Catherine determinedly set her jaw. "I'll have a talk with her. Gil's in no shape to deal with her infatuation."
"Lucky you."
Brass noticed Nick approaching. The younger man was pale, and his eyes had a liquid sheen to them that reflected deep-felt sorrow, but he seemed to be holding it together. Gil would be proud of him.
"How is he?"
"Couple of cracked ribs, a concussion, a sprained ankle, some major bruising, and a ruptured spleen. He's in surgery now." Nick licked his lips and unconsciously rubbed a hand over the ache in his chest as if it was physical. "Bad enough, but it could have been a lot worse. Barring anything unforeseen during surgery, he's going to be okay."
"Thank God," Catherine breathed, slumping a bit in relief.
Even Brass showed obvious signs of relief.
"I had you guys put on the list so you can see him."
"Thanks, Nick." Catherine rubbed the back of her neck. "I need coffee. What about you two?"
"Yeah, that'd be good."
"Need some help?" Brass offered.
"Nah, I've got it. I need to walk a bit, clear my mind. You two wait here for Sara and Warrick."
Nick stared after her, eyes unfocused and unblinking.
"You okay, Nick?"
"I guess that depends on your definition of ‘okay'," Nick said, running a hand over his face. "I was pretty damned scared."
"Yeah, me, too," Brass said, knowing he'd never forget the sight of that car hitting Gil. At least Nick hadn't been witness to that.
Nick shook his head, one corner of his mouth turning up ruefully. "I guess I won't give Gil shit anymore when he worries about me on the job."
Brass gave his own half-smile. "Guess not."
Sara and Warrick arrived. Nick filled them in on Grissom's condition and told them they were just waiting on word from the doctor.
They sat down to wait, Warrick and Brass on either side of Nick, Sara separate and apart, biting her thumbnail and ignoring any overtures of conversation from the men as they talked quietly amongst themselves.
Catherine returned carrying a small cardboard tray with five Styrofoam cups of coffee and packets of creamer and sugar. She distributed the coffee, saving Sara for last. Holding her own cup, Catherine sank down onto the chair next to Sara.
"How the hell did this happen, Catherine? Where were you and Brass?"
Catherine's eyebrows rose at Sara's accusatory tone. "Brass and I were working the scene, same as Gil."
"This shouldn't have happened," Sara insisted, a bit louder this time.
"No, it shouldn't have, but it did, and there's nothing we can do to change it," Catherine answered tightly, realizing this had the potential to get ugly if it wasn't diffused now. "All we can do is move forward, be there for Gil and try to find the guy who did this."
"With Grissom out, I guess you'll be running the unit. I want to put in for time off."
Catherine sighed silently, knowing Sara wasn't just going to give up. "No, Sara."
"Why not? I-"
"Because I've already asked for time off," Nick interrupted, having an idea where Sara was headed with her request. There was no way he was going to let her think she could use this to move in on Gil; the man didn't need this kind of aggravation while trying to heal.
"Change it," she snapped. "I need the time off. Grissom needs someone to take care of him after he's released from the hospital."
Catherine saw the pleading look Nick threw her way and knew he, too, was looking out for Gil, trying to save him this particular headache just now. "Nick is going to be staying with Grissom."
Nick smiled slightly, and she knew she'd gotten the right message.
"And who made that decision?" Sara questioned somewhat belligerently.
Brass was the one who answered. "Gil did."
"But-"
"Leave it alone, Sara," Warrick said firmly.
"It's not my place to decide," Catherine added, "nor is it yours. Gil has made his choice, and it's not you."
Nick and Brass stole a quick sideways glance at one another, hoping no one realized just how true those words were. Both knew it was only Catherine's worry over Grissom that kept her from guessing the truth because sometimes that woman seemed to be psychic.
Sara looked like she wanted to argue further, but, thankfully, remained quiet. She still didn't join the conversations of her coworkers, and if they thought her attitude was as much sulking as worrying, they let it slide.
They'd gone through three cups of coffee and several stretches of silence before the doctor, still dressed in his green scrubs, entered the waiting room. They stood as he approached.
"Mr. Stokes?"
Nick stepped forward. "Here."
The doctor pulled off his skullcap and ran a hand through sweat-soaked blond hair as he moved towards Nick. Tired blue eyes held Nick's gaze, but his words, when he spoke, included everyone gathered around.
"Mr. Grissom came through surgery to remove his ruptured spleen just fine, and there was no other internal bleeding. He's in recovery now, and his vitals are all stable."
"When can we see him?" Sara asked.
"Once he's been moved to a private room, you can go in two at a time, for no more than ten minutes. Chances are he won't even know you're there, but you can see for yourself how he's doing."
"Thank you, Doctor," Nick said, relief evident in his voice.
"Just a word of warning to you all. There's extensive bruising, so don't be too shocked when you see him."
"Bruising?" Sara questioned sharply.
The doctor looked at her curiously. Nick merely rolled his eyes.
"Why-"
Catherine had heard enough. She was too tense and too tired to listen to Sara play 20 Questions with the doctor. "For God's sake, Sara, the man was hit by a car. What were you expecting?"
Sara's mouth drew into a tight line, but she didn't say anything else, just returned to her solitary seat.
The doctor raised his brows slightly at the mini-drama before turning back to Nick. "Do you have any questions, Mr. Stokes?"
Nick shook his head. "Not at the moment."
"If you think of anything, just let the nurses know and they'll get in touch with me."
"I will. Thank you, Dr. Evans."
One corner of the doctor's mouth lifted just a bit. "And now for the fun part. I believe there are some more papers you need to sign concerning Mr. Grissom."
Nick grimaced. "Paperwork never ends, does it?"
Dr. Evans laughed and patted Nick on the arm. "Never. Come on, I'll show you where you need to go."
Catherine watched Nick walk away with the doctor, then turned and went back to her seat beside Sara. The younger CSI didn't even look at her, and Catherine sighed silently once again.
"Sara-"
"No, Catherine."
"Yes, Sara. We're going to have this conversation."
Sara turned angry eyes on the other woman. "You know how I feel about Grissom. Why is everyone trying to keep me from taking care of him when he needs me?"
"It's because of how you feel about him."
"Excuse me?"
Catherine scraped her hair off her face with one hand. "Sara, the last thing Gil needs right now is to have to worry about your obsession."
"Obsession? What I feel for Grissom has nothing to do with obsession."
"Whatever you want to call it, Gil is in no shape to have to deal with it. He was hit by a car, Sara."
"I know that, Catherine," Sara snapped.
"Then you know he's going to need peace and quiet and a stress-free atmosphere to heal. You can't provide that for him."
Sara's mouth tightened even more. "And Nick can?"
Catherine had to laugh. "Sara, this is Nick we're talking about here. Have you ever known anyone who thinks more about what's best for other people?"
"No," Sara admitted reluctantly. "But-"
"Look, Sara," Catherine cut in firmly, "Grissom is going to need a lot of care when he goes home. Personal care. Things he'd be uncomfortable having you do for him."
"I just want him to know he can depend on me."
Catherine tried not to let her exasperation show at the other woman's neediness. "He knows that every time you go out on a case. But right now this isn't about you. It's about Gil and what he needs, and what he needs is Nick."
Overhearing the conversation, Brass decided it was time to intervene. "So, Sara, any signs of arson at the warehouse?"
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Nick waited till the others had already visited Grissom before entering the room quietly. Something painful clinched in his chest as he stood beside the bed and surveyed the still, silent figure of the man he loved hooked up to IV's and monitors.
He lifted the blankets so he could see the damage head to toe. Between the accident and the surgery, Grissom was unnaturally pale, making the bruising that much more vivid.
He gently replaced the blanket and ran a hand softly over sweat-dampened salt and pepper curls.
"Damn it, Gil," he whispered, "what happened?"
As if responding to the voice of the younger man, Grissom's hand twitched, then stilled. Nick watched, waiting to see if he would wake up, but there was no other indication of him coming around.
Nick sighed and resumed his stroking of Grissom's hair, halting and pulling his hand away when he heard a single knock on the door before it opened. His frown cleared when Brass walked in.
"Jim."
"Hey, Nicky."
Brass moved to the opposite side of the bed from where Nick was, standing on Grissom's left side. Both men stood with their hands on the metal rails, looking down at the still, silent patient.
"I wanted to thank you, Jim, for your help with the Sara situation."
Brass looked at Grissom fondly, then looked at Nick. "Gil is my best friend. I know how much you mean to him and how uncomfortable Sara makes him."
"You haven't been around much since I moved in," Nick commented.
"I thought I'd give you two time to adjust to things."
"It's been eight months, Jim." Nick smiled. "I think we've adjusted by now."
Brass raised his brows. "What? Honeymoon over already?" he teased.
Nick blushed. "I didn't say that. But I know it would mean a lot to Gil if you'd come by."
"I'll do that."
"Good. I know Gil has missed you. You've been a good friend to him, to both of us, actually. If anyone had to find out about us, I'm glad it was you. I don't know if anyone else would have kept our secret."
"Hey, I figure what you do outside the lab is no one's business but your own as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else." One corner of Jim's mouth lifted. "And you should be glad I managed to get in here to Gil's side before Catherine."
Nick's brows drew together. "What are you talking about?"
Brass reached over and gently lowered the edge of Gil's gown to just under his collarbone. "It's amazing how such a small bruise can stand out among all the other bruising, don't you think?"
Nick blushed when he saw the mark he'd made on Gil before they'd gotten ready for work. God, had it only been twelve hours ago that he'd had Gil tied naked to the bed?
"Jim...."
Brass chuckled. "It's okay, Nicky. Like I said, what you do in private is your business. And I'm not even going to ask about the red marks around Gil's wrists."
From the feel of the heat in his face, Nick figured he could start a fire.
"Don't tease, Jim."
Both men looked down when they heard the faintly-voiced words, a smile breaking out over Nick's face when he saw Grissom's eyes open and locked on him. Reaching down, he took Gil's hand in one of his and gently stroked the back with his other hand.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hey," Gil answered, voice raspy from the tube that had been inserted during surgery. He managed to squeeze Nick's hand slightly as he kept his eyes focused on Nick's brown gaze.
"Don't mind me," Brass said dryly.
Gil carefully turned his head. "Jim." He tried to move and groaned when he was wracked with pain.
"If you need to move, let me help you," Nick said, concern evident in his words.
"I'm okay," Gil said, although sweat popped out on his brow. "What happened? I feel like I was hit by a truck."
"No, just a Honda Accord," Jim said.
Gil sucked in a breath as the memory returned. "Why? Was he drunk?"
Jim hesitated.
"Jim?"
Nick looked at Brass and nodded. "He needs to know."
"What? What do I need to know, Nicky? Jim?"
Brass sighed. "We haven't caught him yet, Gil. The car was stolen and was found on Viking Circle, but it had been stripped clean. What's left doesn't have a single print."
Gil frowned, thinking back to the hit and run. The car had seemed to accelerate. "Jim, the car came at me on purpose, didn't it?"
Brass nodded. "It looked that way to me. I'm going back out to the scene, see if there's a witness we haven't found yet."
"But why would anyone want to kill me?"
Brass looked at him in astonishment. "You're kidding, right?"
Gil merely looked confused.
Brass shook his head at how such a smart man could sometimes be so dense about his own world. "Gil, how many people have you helped put behind bars?"
"I didn't put them there, Jim," Grissom said in his logical voice, even if it was still raspy. "The evidence is what convicted them."
"And who found the evidence and processed it?"
"So you think this is someone I found evidence against?"
Brass shrugged. "That or a family member of one of the convicts."
Nick couldn't stop himself from squeezing Gil's hand. Gil looked at him, saw the worry in the dear face and squeezed back.
"I don't want you alone till this guy is caught, Gil."
Gil tore his gaze away from Nick and looked at Brass, frown returning and wrinkling his brow. "I don't want protection, Jim."
"I think you might want this kind," Brass said, eyes twinkling. "Catherine gave Nick time off to take care of you."
Gil's eyes widened. "What? Catherine knows?"
"No," Nick said, "she doesn't. All she knows is that I'm the contact person for you."
"It was kind of a joint effort at keeping Sara from taking care of you while you recuperated," Brass added.
Gil grimaced. "Thank God."
"So Nicky is going to stay with you while you're healing," Jim said ironically. "And anytime you go out you'll have police protection."
"Jim-"
Brass was already shaking his head. "No, Gil, that's the way it's going to be until we catch this guy."
"But-"
"Gil," Nick said earnestly. "Please, do it for me. You worry about me. This time I'm the one worrying about you."
Grissom looked at the pain in those beautiful brown eyes and couldn't help but agree. "All right, even though I won't like it."
"What? You won't like having me living with you in the open?" Nick joked. "And here I thought you loved me."
"If I wasn't in this damned bed I'd show you how much I love you."
"And that," Brass said, "is my cue to leave."
Nick blushed but couldn't help the smile that split his face, causing the laugh lines around his mouth to deepen.
"Thanks, Jim," Gil said, eyes still locked on the beautiful sight of the young man he loved more than life itself.
"Sure," Brass said with a chuckle, shaking his head. As he left the room he mumbled to himself, "Ah, how the mighty have fallen."
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Nick parked the Tahoe in the driveway, getting out and going around to help Gil out.
Gil's forehead wrinkled as he frowned. "Aren't you going to park in the garage?" he asked as he took Nick's hand.
Nick smiled. "Nope."
"Why not?" Grissom questioned as he carefully got out of the SUV with Nick's hand holding one of his and his other hand under his arm for support.
Nick smiled. "If I park in the garage while I'm supposed to be here, then the others might get suspicious during those times when I'm not supposed to be here."
"Ah, I see. Good thinking, Nicky."
They carefully made their way to the front door. Nick helped Grissom lean against the side of the house while he unlocked the door and went in to disarm the alarm. Once that was done, he came back and helped the injured man inside. It was while he was guiding Grissom to the bedroom that the older man pulled back just a bit.
Nick stopped and looked at Grissom, brows drawn together. "Gil?"
"Could I stay out here for a while, Nicky? I'm sick of constantly being in bed."
Nick smiled. "I think we can manage that."
Nick guided Gil to the sofa, the new longer one they'd picked out together when they'd realized how uncomfortable the shorter one had been when they'd tried to make out on it. He carefully seated Gil and helped him swing his legs up, placing the throw pillows behind his back and covering him with the afghan that covered the back of the dark green sofa.
Grissom smiled and took hold of the hand that brushed the hair off his forehead, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. Nick returned the smile and cupped Gil's face in his hand, thinking how much he loved this man.
Nick's smile slipped and tears glazed his eyes. "You scared the shit out of me, Gil."
Grissom's smile faded as well. He tightened his hold on Nick's hand on his face. "I know, Nicky, and I'm sorry."
Nick bit his lip, not sure this was the time to bring this up.
Grissom saw the indecision on Nick's face. "What is it, Nicky?"
Nick sighed and pulled his hand free. Sitting down on the coffee table, he clasped his hands between his knees and faced Grissom. "Gil, Jim said you didn't hear that car."
Grissom silently sighed. He'd wondered how long he'd be able to hide this from Nicky.
"I've noticed the same thing at times. You seem to ignore us at crime scenes, and there've been a few times here as well that you seemed to be in your own world."
Grissom sighed tiredly but didn't know what to say, how to start.
Nick's mouth tightened. "Well? You're not going to say anything? Not going to explain?"
"Nicky..."
"Shit!" Nick stood up and looked down at his lover, dark eyes full of anger and pain. "Even now you can't tell me? I thought you trusted me."
Gil reached for Nick's hand as he turned to walk away. "Nick, wait!"
Nick stopped. He didn't shake off Gil's hand but neither did he turn and look at the man.
"Please, Nicky just let me explain."
Lips pressed together, Nick sat back down, hands fisted on his thighs.
Grissom closed his eyes momentarily and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "It's not a matter of trust, Nicky. I trust you like I've never trusted anyone else."
"Then what is it? Why won't you talk about what's going on? You know my secrets."
Grissom took a deep breath and finally blurted out, "I was scared, okay? I didn't want to accept what was happening, and I thought if I ignored it, it would go away."
"What, Gil? What has you so scared?"
"I'm going deaf."
"And?" Nick prompted when it became apparent Grissom wasn't going to say anything else.
Grissom swallowed, his throat almost painfully dry. "Could I have some water, please, before I continue?"
Nick went to the kitchen and brought back a bottle of water, then took the bottle of pain meds out of his pocket and gave Gil one without even being asked.
A small smile touched Grissom's lips at Nick's care even when he was mad. He took the pill and the water, downing the pill with a swig of water, then setting the bottle down on the floor beside the sofa.
Nick sat back down on the coffee table and waited. The difference this time was that his hands were no longer clenched into fists, a fact Grissom noted with a bit of relief.
"Did you know my mother is deaf?" Grissom asked abruptly.
Nick shook his head. "No, I didn't. Is that why you know how to sign?"
"Yes. She has a condition called otosclerosis."
Nick's eyebrows rose. "Otosclerosis? I've never heard of it."
"It's a growth of spongy bone in the ear that causes progressive deafness." Grissom licked his lips and locked his gaze with Nick's. "It's hereditary."
"And you thought I would care? That I would reject you?" Nick questioned, hurt evident in his voice.
Grissom reached out and squeezed one of Nick's thighs. "No, Nicky, I never thought that. It's me. I wasn't kidding when I said I thought if I ignored it the condition would go away."
Nick shook his head. "That's not like you, Gil."
One corner of Grissom's mouth lifted ruefully. "Unfortunately my logic went the way of the dinosaur when it came to something that could affect my entire future so drastically."
"Your future?"
"Yes. Hearing is part of the process of collecting evidence, listening to what the perp says and trying to hear what he isn't saying. If I can't hear, I can't work."
Nick's eyes widened. "Oh, Lord, I didn't even think about that." He put his hand over the one on his thigh and squeezed.
Gil bit his lip and turned his hand over, clasping Nick's in his. "I'm frightened, Nick," he admitted softly, something he wouldn't say to anyone else.
Nick squeezed back, leaned over and cupped Grissom's face with his other hand. "We'll get through this, Gil, like we do everything else."
Grissom smiled and nuzzled into the hand on his face. "I love you, Nicky. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I just couldn't."
"I know. I'm not going to say it's all right because it's not, but I understand your reasoning. Just don't ever do it again."
"I'll try. I can't promise I won't screw up again, but I can promise to try."
Nick smiled and leaned in for a kiss, saying, "That's all I can ask," just before his lips brushed Gil's in a sweet, gentle kiss that spoke of his love.
Grissom returned the kiss, slipping his tongue into Nick's mouth and tasting the sweetness there. Nick returned the kiss, stroking his tongue over Grissom's, then suddenly broke off with a gasp and sat back.
Dazed, Grissom looked at the younger man. "Nicky?"
But Nick was shaking his head, recognizing the tone of that voice. "No, Gil, we can't. You were just released from the hospital. You're in no shape for this."
"Parts of me are," Gil said wryly, looking down at the bulge that had developed behind the fly of his dark pants.
Nick's lips lifted, the smile making his dark eyes light up in that way that never failed to make Grissom's breath catch in his chest.
"Well," Nick drawled, "if you didn't have cracked ribs and hadn't had surgery, I could take care of that for you, but I don't want to risk hurting you."
"And you think this isn't hurting? I've been in the hospital nearly five days, Nick. That's five days without you."
"You weren't without me, Gil. I was there with you."
Nick's words were said in jest, but Grissom heard the underlying pain and felt the tension in the hand he still held. "I know, Nicky," he said softly.
Nick lowered his head and took a deep breath, using the time to get his emotions under control. When he looked up again, determination was evident in his face. "This otosclerosis, there's nothing they can do for it?"
"There is surgery, but there's no guarantee that it will work."
"Have you scheduled it yet?"
Grissom shook his head. "It's not time."
Nick's expressive eyebrows raised, and looking at him Grissom understood Tina the lab tech's fetish.
"Do you mean it hasn't progressed enough for surgery, or that you're not ready?"
Grissom pulled the inside of his lower lip between his teeth for just a moment before answering. "Both."
"But you are going to have it?"
Grissom said nothing.
"Gil?"
Grissom sighed. "I don't like hospitals."
"Gil-"
"But I'll have it when it's time."
Nick smiled and squeezed his hand. "Good."
Grissom returned the smile sleepily. He could feel the pain pill kicking in, making his eyelids heavy. He wanted to stay awake, wanted to talk to Nicky, but he just wasn't strong enough to fight the lethargy caused by the meds.
Nick smiled, thinking how much Grissom looked like a little boy trying to fight sleep. He moved the hand he still held to Grissom's chest and let go, patting it lovingly, then leaned over and placed a soft kiss against the older man's lips.
"Sleep, Gil. We'll talk more when you're awake."
Grissom closed his eyes and smiled slightly as he followed Nick's advise.
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Warrick entered the break room, then stopped and looked around at the boxes stacked on the table. "What's all this? You moving?"
Catherine looked up and shot him an irritated look. "These are the cases Grissom has been involved in during the last five years."
"And you've pulled them...why?"
Catherine sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. "Brass thinks the hit and run was no accident, and I think he's right."
Warrick looked stunned. "What? You're kidding, right?"
"I wish I was."
"You mean someone hit Grissom deliberately?"
Sara walked in just in time to hear Warrick's words. "Grissom was hit on purpose?"
"That's what it looks like," Catherine said. "That car didn't even try to avoid him. In fact, it accelerated and headed right for him."
"Is he getting police protection?" Sara questioned sharply.
Catherine shook her head. "He didn't want it, but he agreed to it if and when he leaves the house. "
Sara sank down on a chair. "Good God."
"And you think it was someone Grissom put away?" Warrick questioned, looking around again at the boxes of files.
Catherine nodded. "Either someone he helped convict or someone related."
"And we're going to go through all these?"
"No. I'm taking these over to Grissom's." One corner of Catherine's mouth lifted. "He and Nick are going to go through them while he's out of commission."
"I want to help," Sara stated.
"We're already two men down. We don't have the manpower right now for any of us to go through all these. Once Nick and Gil come up with any possibilities, we'll all be taking on extra work."
Sara's eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened as she suppressed her words.
"We'll go with you," Warrick offered. "You'll need help carrying all these in, and that way we can check on Grissom, see how he's doing since he went home."
"Sounds good. We'll head out when shift is over. And speaking of tonight's shift," Catherine said, picking up tonight's assignments and handing them out.
Sara took hers without comment. It might not be the exact way she wanted to get into Grissom's house, but it would be a start.
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Nick awoke to the feeling of comfort and warmth. Making a sound similar to a purr, he snuggled closer to the source of that pleasant feeling, but his eyes popped open when he heard a sudden intake of breath. There was nothing unusual about the morning; he was right where he always woke up, cuddled up with Gil.
And that was when it hit him. Grissom was hurt. He had cracked ribs and had had his spleen removed, and here he was sprawled over him, completely unmindful of the man's injuries. He'd gone to sleep beside Grissom, hands entwined, but in his sleep he'd obviously gravitated to his natural place of rest.
"Shit!" Nick quickly and carefully extricated himself from Grissom's hold, scooting away and sitting up to look down at his lover.
"Where are you going?" Grissom questioned sleepily.
Nick ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "I'm sorry, Gil."
"For what?"
"For hurting you. I didn't realize I was laying on you."
One of Grissom's eyebrows lifted. "You didn't hurt me, Nicky."
Nick shook his head. "I did. I heard your breath catch."
One corner of Grissom's mouth curled upward. "That wasn't a hiss of pain."
"No?"
"No. It was because I had you in my arms again. I've missed you, Nicky."
Nick couldn't help but smile as he leaned over and gently kissed Grissom. "I've missed you, too, Gil."
Grissom's head lifted, following Nick's mouth when he would have pulled away. Nick groaned when the other man's tongue flicked across his lips, asking for access. Without thought Nick complied, opening his mouth for the invasion of Grissom's tongue. He was sitting up and twisted at an awkward angle, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was this.
Breathing erratic, Nick groaned and pulled away, wondering if his eyes were as glazed as Grissom's blue orbs.
"Nicky?"
Nick was shaking his head. "No, Gil, we can't. You're in no shape to start anything."
"I need this, Nicky. This isn't just about lust or even love."
"No?"
Grissom shook his head.
Nick looked at Grissom closely, noticing the emotions in those blue eyes, and that was when it hit him. Gil could have died, had come close in fact to dying, and he needed to connect with him, to know that he was still alive.
Nick tossed back the covers and got to his knees beside Grissom. Leaning down, he said, "Just lie back, Gil, and let me do all the work," before slanting his mouth over Gil's.
Gil closed his eyes and moaned as the heady feel of Nick's lips on his own filled him with a sense of wonder. He didn't think he'd ever get used to this, the feel and taste of the beautiful man he was fortunate enough to love and be loved by in return.
Nuzzling under Grissom's chin, Nick began unbuttoning Gil's navy blue pajama top, careful not to brush too hard against the tender flesh that lay underneath. When that was done he spread the top open and sat back, looking at the obvious injuries. Dark eyes glazed with moisture, Nick lightly skimmed a trembling hand over the fading bruises on the older man's chest and stomach.
Grissom grabbed the hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. "It's okay, Nicky."
Nick nodded and smiled shakily. "I could have lost you, Gil."
"But you didn't."
"No, I didn't. You're alive, and that's all that matters."
"I need to feel alive. Make love to me, Nicky."
Nick's smile was more normal this time. "I intend to."
With that Nick carefully removed Grissom's pajama bottoms and tossed them over his shoulder, not really caring where they landed. Grissom was already hard, a drop of precum glistening on the tip of his cock. Nick ran a finger up the erect shaft and over the head, spreading the clear liquid over the velvety tip.
Grissom closed his eyes, his breathing picking up speed as Nick continued to stroke him with just one finger, running up and down and all around his hardness. Nick always knew just how to touch him, just the right spot where he was most sensitive.
Grissom gasped when Nick's hot mouth engulfed him, sliding slowly down his cock and then back up with just the right amount of suction. His eyes opened and his head lifted so he could watch, loving the sight of his blood-engorged shaft disappearing into Nick's beautiful mouth.
"Oh, God, Nicky," he all but whimpered, burying one hand in Nick's short, dark hair as a means to ground them both.
Nick hummed, loving the feel of the hardness sliding down his throat and the feel of Grissom's hand in his hair. He hadn't wanted to hurt Gil, but this was something they both needed, this affirmation of life.
Grissom lifted his hips, pushing further into Nick's mouth, but Nick used one hand to hold him down, making sure he didn't hurt himself. His other hand skimmed up Grissom's torso, fingers catching a hardened nipple and tweaking it, causing the older man to groan and tighten his hold on Nick's hair.
Satisfied Grissom wouldn't try to move again, Nick slid his left hand down and cupped Gil's balls. The way the sac was tightened up and so close to his body, combined with the faster breathing and the sounds coming from his throat, Nick knew Grissom was close. He sped up his movements, using his tongue on the bundle of nerves under the glans and squeezing the scrotum.
Grissom gasped, nearly sobbing Nick's name as he shot down his young lover's throat. Nick drank it all, licking up the stray drop that trickled down the softening shaft, placing a gentle kiss on the sensitive tip before releasing the spent flesh.
Grissom's hand released its grip on his hair, slipping down to cup his chin and lift his face so that Nick could see the look of love sent his way. Nick smiled in return and moved up to kiss the older man, letting him taste the slightly bitter saltiness of his own cum.
Nick groaned into Grissom's mouth when he felt a hand snake under the waistband of his boxers to grasp his hard cock. He pulled away, rising up on his knees and pushing his underwear down just enough to allow Grissom to pull his erection out. Using Nick's own precum as lubricant, Gil slid his hand up and down the hard shaft, giving a twist over the silky head.
"Touch yourself for me, Nicky," Grissom instructed huskily. " Play with your nipples."
Licking the fingers of both hands, Nick took hold of his nipples, throwing his head back and twisting the hardened nubs as Grissom jacked him off. Gil knew just how hard to squeeze and stroke, and in no time at all Nick was climaxing, his cum spurting out over Grissom's hand and stomach.
Panting, Nick slumped a bit, smiling at the man who had so quickly brought him to completion. Grissom smiled in return. Both knew it wasn't about the sex but about reconnecting after a crisis.
Grissom brought his hand to his mouth and lapped up Nick's essence, blue eyes never leaving brown. Once his hand was clean, he dragged a finger through the cooling cum on his stomach and scooped up a glob, then held it to Nick's mouth, inviting him to partake.
Eyes at half mast, Nick took hold of Grissom's hand and licked his own cum off the tip, then sucked the digit inside his mouth, tongue swirling over the flesh that tasted like a combination of his lover and himself. It was as his tongue was sliding into the spot between Grissom's fingers that he happened to glance at the clock on the nightstand.
"Shit!"
"Nick? What is it? What's wrong?"
Nick was scrambling off the bed, shucking his boxers as he went. "The time. Catherine is bringing those files by after shift. We've got to get cleaned up before she gets here."
Grissom's head fell back against the pillow. "Damn. So much for post-coital glow."
Nick smiled but didn't stop as he picked up his boxers and put them in the hamper. Returning to the bed, he carefully helped Grissom up and led him to the bathroom. Turning on the water in the shower, Nick opened a sheet of Tegaderm and carefully placed it over Gil's incision to keep the water out.
They showered together, Nick carefully washing his injured lover. Once they were both clean, Nick dried them both with thick, warm towels and helped Grissom get dressed. He settled Grissom on the sofa before hurriedly dressing himself, then making the bed. Once that was complete, he went into the living room and lit candles.
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Candles, Nicky? This isn't a date, she's merely bringing by some files."
Nick rolled his eyes. "The place smells like sex, Gil. Catherine's nose is too sensitive not to pick up on that. Do you want to explain it to her?"
"No. I think the candles are a wonderful idea. Good thinking."
Nick placed a fleeting kiss on Grissom's lips before pulling away and smiling. With a wink he said, "Wish I could take credit, but I learned that trick from a girlfriend my senior year of high school."
Grissom shook his head at this tidbit of Nick's past as the young man headed for the kitchen to start coffee. Even after eight months he still marveled that he'd caught someone like Nick, a man who could have anyone he wanted, male or female.
After getting the coffee going, Nick went back to Grissom's side and sat down on the edge of the table. Picking up one of the work-roughened hands, he brought it to his mouth for a quick kiss, then held it in both of his.
"What do you want for breakfast?"
Grissom thought about it for a moment. He'd missed Nick's cooking during those five horribly long days in the hospital. The scent of the cinnamon candles drifted into his nostrils, and he suddenly knew what he wanted.
"How about your apple cinnamon muffins? Is that too much trouble?"
Nick smiled and kissed Grissom's hand again. "Nothing is too much trouble for you. I'll make a double batch `cause I have a feeling Catherine won't be coming alone."
Grissom sighed. "You're probably right."
"It's because they love you, Gil. Not in the way that I love you, but they do. They've all been worried about you."
Grissom shook his head. "I don't understand it. I've never tried to cultivate those kinds of feelings in any of them. Well, besides you."
Nick smiled again and leaned over for a quick kiss. "You don't have to do anything, Gris. All you have to do is be yourself and people love you."
Grissom raised his brows in disbelief. "They love me because I'm an anti-social bug-loving geek with no people skills?"
"It's all part of who you are." Nick patted Gil's hand before releasing it and standing. "There's never a tangible reason for love or even liking. Just accept it for what it is."
"I'll try. You know I'm still not good with emotions."
"I beg to differ. Now why don't you rest while I make the muffins? I know you'll try to do too much once those files get here, so sleep while you can."
"All right, Nicky," Grissom said softly, closing his eyes and drifting off to the sounds of Nick in the kitchen.
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Waking to the feel of fingers running through his hair, Grissom smiled and snuggled into the hand, not even bothering to open his eyes. He'd know that touch anywhere. "Nicky," he sighed softly.
Nick chuckled. "Time to get up, Gil. Catherine just called. She and Warrick and Sara are a few blocks away."
Blue eyes opened sleepily. "How about a kiss to sustain me until they leave?"
Nick smiled but shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"But, Nicky-"
Nick placed a finger over Grissom's lips to silence him. "As much as I want to kiss you, I know how easily it can lead to something else, especially since we've been apart so long, and I don't want to open the door sportin' a hard-on when the others get here."
Grissom kissed the finger over his lips. "All right, Nicky, but once they're gone I expect a serious necking session with you."
Nick smiled, cheeks and eyes creasing. "You've got yourself a deal."
Knowing Grissom would be uncomfortable lying down while the others were there, Nick carefully helped him sit up. He handed him the crossword puzzle from the morning paper along with an ink pen before going to check on the muffins.
Grissom smiled as he watched Nick walk away, thinking about how well the younger man took care of him. He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten so lucky, but he wasn't about to question whatever had brought Nick into his life.
From the sounds coming from the kitchen, Grissom knew Nick was taking their breakfast out of the oven. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the wonderful aroma of hot muffins and fresh coffee
When the doorbell rang, Nick hurried from the kitchen and answered the door. But the person standing on the other side wasn't whom they had expected.
"Jim!"
Brass raised his eyebrows at the surprised sound of his name. "If this is a bad time I can leave."
"What?" Nick's brow cleared suddenly. "Oh, no, Jim this is perfect timing. We said you're always welcome, and we meant it." He stepped back to let the captain enter the house.
Brass stepped inside and sniffed the air appreciatively. "Something smells good."
Nick grinned. "You're just in time for breakfast. I made apple cinnamon muffins. Catherine, Warrick and Sara are on their way from the lab."
Brass grimaced and leaned closer to Nick. "You're letting Sara in while you're here? Is that a good idea?"
One corner of Nick's mouth lifted ruefully. "Not much choice. They're bringing over boxes of files Gil worked on during the last five years. And now that you're here, you can help us go through them."
Brass sighed. "Damn, my timing sucks."
Nick laughed. "No, I think your timing is perfect," he said, ushering Jim into the living room.
"You would," Brass commented, following the Texan into the room.
"Jim," Grissom said, obviously pleased to see his friend.
"Hey, Gil, how's it goin'?"
Grissom shrugged. "All things considered, I'm doing well."
Brass unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in a chair near the end of the couch where Gil sat, looking his friend over for any obvious signs of discomfort.
"I'll finish up in the kitchen while you guys talk," Nick said on his way out of the room.
"You two doing okay?"
Grissom smiled. "We're good. We talked. Nick understands what happened. He's not happy about it, but he understands."
"What did happen?"
"I...I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind, Jim. It's not that I don't trust you, but it's something I'm not ready to share." Grissom lifted one shoulder. "Quite frankly, I don't know that I'll ever be able to share."
"But you told Nick?"
"Yes."
"Good." Brass leaned closer. "That boy is good for you, Gil. I'd hate to see you mess this up."
Grissom smiled. "He is good for me, and I'm just trying to muddle through this business of being in a personal relationship one day at a time. It isn't easy."
"Good or bad, it never is."
"No, but Nick is helping me through it." One corner of Grissom's mouth quirked up. "Sometimes I wonder where he finds all his patience."
Brass chuckled. "Because sometimes we know you could push a saint too far."
Grissom was saved from further discussion of his relationship deficiencies by the peal of the doorbell. Nick hurried from the kitchen to open the door, revealing Catherine, Warrick and Sara, each carrying a large box of files.
"Come on in, guys. Just put those down in front of the bookcases."
"There's more of these outside in Catherine's Tahoe," Warrick said as he passed by Nick. "Help yourself."
Nick chuckled and went out to help carry them in. His eyes widened when he saw there were at least six more boxes. Between them the boxes were soon stacked inside, waiting for their perusal.
Once his fellow CSIs had greeted Grissom and Brass and were assured of their boss' health, Nick informed them of his breakfast offering. They were more than happy to accept. Nick headed towards Grissom, intending to help him up and to the dining table, but Brass beat him to it, carefully helping him up and skillfully guiding him to a seat somewhere other than by an expectant Sara.
As if by mutual unspoken agreement, work was not discussed during their meal, but once the table was cleared and they had fresh cups of coffee, it was down to business.
Brows drawn together, Nick looked at the pile of boxes. "Where do we start?"
Grissom surveyed the mini-mountain as well. "I think we should start with the most recent cases first."
"Sounds like a plan."
Together Nick and Warrick organized the boxes by date, and soon there were folders spread out over the table as they read the contents and discussed the cases, each adding what they remembered, Grissom having the most details but the others giving different perspectives on the cases.
After an hour Nick got up and stretched, rotating his neck to get out the kinks. Looking at the files completely covering the table, Nick shook his head. "Man, you can't ever do anything the easy way, can you, Gris?"
"What would be the fun in that? We're scientists, Nick, solving puzzles is what we do. It keeps us sharp."
"Well, my mind is decidedly dull at the moment," Catherine said, getting to her feet. "If I don't get home and get to bed, I'll be no good at work tonight."
Warrick and Sara stood as well. ‘Thank you' and ‘good-bye' was said by all as the brain trust broke up, leaving Nick, Grissom and Brass with all the files.
"You want more coffee, Jim?" Nick asked as he picked up the empty mugs and headed for the kitchen.
"No thanks, I'm good. Anymore caffeine and I'll never get to sleep."
Grissom pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not even sure what we're looking for, Jim."
Brass shook his head. "Nick's right, nothing is ever easy with you."
"Of course I'm right," Nick said, walking back into the room and handing Grissom a bottle of water and two pills.
Grissom looked at the pills in his hand, then looked at Nick, one eyebrow raised.
"Your pain pill and your antibiotic. Take them," Nick said firmly when Grissom opened his mouth as if to argue.
Grissom frowned. "The pain pill knocks me out. I've already slept enough. I need to work on these files."
Nick crossed his arms over his chest. "These files aren't going anywhere, Gris. Take your meds."
"But, Nicky-"
"No."
Grissom scowled but took the pills.
Brass chuckled as he stood. "I can see you're in good hands here. It's good to see you not always get your way."
Grissom frowned, but his blue eyes twinkled.
"I'm heading home to get some sleep. As soon as you come up with any possibilities, let me know."
"I will."
"I thought we'd lost you, Gil. Don't do that again." Brass turned and walked away as soon as his emotional words were in the air. "I can show myself out. Thanks for breakfast, Nicky, and see if you can't keep this guy out of trouble."
Once the door had shut behind Brass, Nick sat down beside Grissom and took his hand. "See, Gil? I know you told Warrick once you were gone there wouldn't be a cake in the break room, but that isn't so. Everybody loves you, and we'd be lost without you."
Unused to such sentiments concerning him, all Grissom could do was smile and squeeze Nick's hand.
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After a week of reading and rereading files, Grissom narrowed it down to nearly thirty possibilities. Brass wasn't happy about the high number, but at least he had somewhere to start his investigation.
During that time Grissom hadn't left the house, but on the day he had to return to the doctor to have his staples removed, he and Nick had a police escort.
Grissom scowled when he saw the police cruiser in his driveway. "This really isn't necessary."
Nick sighed. "It is necessary, Gil, until we find out who ran you down."
"The Las Vegas Police Department has more important things to do than babysit me."
"Right now babysitting you is their job," Nick said patiently.
"Can't they at least just follow us? Do we have to ride in the patrol car?"
Nick rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. I swear, Gil, you're worse than my sisters when it's that time of the month."
Gil looked startled, then sighed wearily as he ran a hand over his mouth. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Nick. I'm just frustrated by this whole situation."
"I know, Gil. I'm frustrated, too, but your safety is more important than any inconvenience we might experience. If it was me instead of you, what would you be doing?"
"Point taken."
"Come on, let's get you to the doctor. The sooner we get that taken care of, the sooner we can come home and snuggle."
Grissom visibly brightened. "I like the way you think, Nicky."
Nick grinned. "Yeah, I thought that might work."
Even though he was moving much better, his injuries healing more everyday, Nick still helped Grissom as they left the house. As they walked towards the patrol car, Nick's head snapped up when he heard squealing tires. His brows drew together as he saw a Saturn L200 speed passed, dark-tinted windows preventing him from seeing the driver.
"Nick?"
"Hmm? What?"
"You stopped," Grissom pointed out. "Why aren't we moving?"
"Oh, sorry, I was distracted. Let's get you settled in the car."
He helped Grissom into the backseat of the police car, scanning the street before climbing in himself. Maybe it was just coincidence, but he didn't like the fact that a car had sped passed as they came out the door, not when Grissom had already been intentionally hit by a car. As a trained criminalist, he didn't often believe in such twists of fate.
"Nick? Are you okay?"
Nick turned to look at the older man. "That car, Gris. Did you see it?"
"Yes, Nick, I did."
Nick licked his lips. "I'm...not sure it wasn't here for a reason."
Grissom sighed. "I think you're probably right, Nick." He didn't like it, but he was beginning to think Brass was right. While he wasn't normally a paranoid person, he'd felt a frisson of fear when he'd heard the squealing tires and had seen the car zipping by.
"Do you still think police protection is unnecessary?"
Grissom heard the worry in his lover's voice and wished he could hold and comfort him, but with a policeman in the front seat, that wasn't possible. "I don't like feeling confined, and I don't like being watched all the time."
Nick gritted his teeth. "Damn it, Gris, this guy knows where you live," he all but hissed. "I'm going to talk to Brass, see about getting you `round the clock protection."
Grissom started to protest, but then he realized that if whoever was after him knew where he lived, then Nick was in danger, too. "Okay, Nick."
Nick blinked, not sure he'd heard right. "Did you just agree to police protection?"
Grissom smiled ruefully. Casting a quick glance at the back of the officer's head, he reached over and quickly and gently squeezed Nick's knee. "It's not just me I'm thinking of."
Nick's dark eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled. "Whatever it takes, Gris."
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Nick shivered as he huddled further into the blankets. February in Nevada was always cold, but tonight it seemed to be even colder. And he knew why. It wasn't the weather. It was the fact that for the first time in eight months he was sleeping without Grissom. Even when Gil had been in the hospital he'd been in the same room, the uncomfortable convertible chair right next to the bed, close enough that he could reach out and touch the warm skin of the older man, close enough to hear him breathing.
Now that Grissom had agreed to protection, there would be a policeman with them, twenty-four seven. And an officer in the house meant Nick was back to sleeping in the guest room, right where he'd started when Grissom had first brought him there after the incident with Nigel Crane.
Neither of them was happy with the situation, but there was nothing to be done. He'd rather sleep alone as long as he knew Gil was safe than be curled up next to the man he loved with the knowledge that at any moment someone might try to harm him. Keeping Gil alive was his main priority.
But, damn it he hoped they found this guy soon.
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Brass stopped by the next day, raising an eyebrow when he noticed how tired Nick and Gil both looked, dark circles under their eyes.
"What's wrong with you guys? You look like shit."
Gil scowled. "Good to see you, too, Jim."
Brass shrugged. "Merely stating the obvious."
"I didn't sleep well," Grissom admitted.
"My bed was cold," Nick muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.
Brass suddenly smiled, glancing quickly at the on duty officer, then back to the two men sitting at the dining table going over files once more. Going to the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of coffee, he joined them at the table.
Looking at Nick, Brass said, "Maybe you should invest in an electric blanket."
Nick glared at him, unappreciative of his humor.
"Look at it this way; with all of grave working on this case, we're going to find this guy, and then you can sleep in your own bed again."
"Any leads?" Grissom asked.
"No, no leads yet, but we have managed to eliminate three suspects."
Grissom nodded.
"I've been thinking," Nick said. "I think I know how we can narrow the search."
Brass looked at him expectantly. "I'm all-ears."
"It was a hit and run that put Grissom in the hospital, and then yesterday there was a car waiting outside for him. I think the original crime was either a hit and run or some kind of vehicular homicide."
Grissom bit his lip and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You may be right, Nick."
"Makes sense," Brass said.
Nick and Grissom began going through the nearly thirty files they'd previously pulled and were able to cut the number down to twelve.
"An even dozen," Brass said. "Makes it a little easier."
"You've got to find this guy, Jim, before Gris is released to go back to work," Nick said, because he knew once the doctor released Gil, he would be back in the field, whether he had protection or not.
"We'll find him, Nicky," Brass assured him, continuing to look at the files of the narrowed-down list of suspects. Pulling one out, he said, "This is one of the guys we've already eliminated." He looked up and smiled. "See? We're already making progress."
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Only it wasn't that easy. Ruling out suspects and their relatives proved to be a daunting task. Two weeks later they were only halfway through the list, leaving six suspects; suspects, all of who had relatives angry over what they considered to be a raw deal.
The strain of having to constantly watch over their shoulders, combined with the continued presence of a police officer who kept them from being together caused frayed nerves where Nick and Gil were concerned.
It didn't take much to make tempers flare. And they didn't even have work as a release. Grissom wasn't due a visit to the doctor for another week. Neither one of them was sure they'd last that long. It wasn't so much the continued escalation of their arguments as it was the fact that they couldn't steal a moment alone, not even time enough for a kiss.
During the next week, two more suspects were eliminated from the list. By the time Grissom's doctor released him to go back to work, he and Nick were both more than ready, despite the possible danger. If they couldn't be together, they needed a little space apart.
When they walked into the break room their first night back, Grissom was taken aback to see a banner that stated WELCOME BACK in big, bold letters and a cake in the middle of the table with everyone from Judy to Archie, Bobby, even Hodges, along with the other CSIs, gathered around.
"What's this?"
Catherine rolled her eyes as she stepped forward and hugged him. "Gil, even you aren't so socially retarded that you don't recognize a welcome back party when you see one."
Nick couldn't help but grin. Only Catherine could get away with calling Gil Grissom socially retarded in public.
Each and every one of them greeted Grissom, he and Nick both stiffening when Sara hugged him. Grissom quickly disengaged from the embrace, not just for his own comfort but because the look in Nick's dark eyes promised retribution. He just wasn't sure who that retribution would be aimed at, and he didn't intend to find out. Nick was one of the most easy going people he'd ever known, but he'd seen firsthand what a pissed-off Nick Stokes was like.
"I don't know what to say."
"Just say thank you," Catherine offered.
"Thank you"
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Now, who wants cake?"
They all gathered closer to the table as Catherine cut the cake and dished it up, Sara handing out the pieces. Nick used the moment to stand close behind Gil, brushing his hand in the lightest of caresses against the small of his back. Grissom shivered, wanting nothing so much as to grab Nick by the wrist and drag him out of there, someplace where they could be alone for even five minutes.
But that wasn't to be.
"Sorry to break up the party, guys," Brass said, entering the room, "but we've got an MVA on Bonanza Road."
"Nick and I will take it."
"Hell, no!" Catherine said.
"I don't think so," Brass added.
"You can't be serious," came from Sara.
"Man, I can't believe you said that," Warrick said, shaking his head.
Grissom looked confused. "Excuse me? What is the problem with that? I'm anxious to get back to work, and I'm sure Nick is, too."
Nick shook his head. "I know you are, Gris, and I am, too, but you've got to be kidding if you think any of us are going to let you anywhere near a highway and a motor vehicle accident right now. You're not going anywhere with the potential for another hit and run."
"But-"
"No!" Catherine stated emphatically. "Warrick and Nick can handle it."
"Sounds like a plan," Warrick said, punching Nick on the arm. "Nick's been gone so long, I'm sure I'll have to give him a refresher course in evidence collection."
"But-"
"In your dreams, Rick," Nick said, not giving Grissom time to protest again. "If anything, I'll have to cover your butt, same as always."
"Oh, you didn't just go there."
Nick spread his hands. "Hey, I call'em like I see'em."
"Then you need glasses, bro," Warrick said, taking the paper from Brass on their way out of the break room.
Grissom watched them go, one corner of his mouth tilting up as they continued to bicker good-naturedly. He might not have gotten out into the field like he'd wanted, but it was good to see Nick smile again. There'd been way too much stress on his young lover during the last few weeks.
Unintentionally catching Sara's eye, Grissom quickly picked up his cake and said, "If anything comes in, I'll be in my office doing paperwork."
He left the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard Catherine stop Sara to ask her about an ongoing case. He wasn't in the best of moods right now, and if he had to have one of those awkward personal conversations with Sara she'd taken to blindsiding him with, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to not hurt her feelings.
Why couldn't she understand that even if he he'd been interested in her, which he wasn't, he'd never be able to do anything about it because of the rule forbidding relationships between supervisor and subordinate?
Okay, so he was living with Nick, but that was different. Not the circumstances, per se, but his feelings about it. If his and Nick's relationship should be discovered, he wouldn't think twice about moving if that was what it took. He'd never discussed it with Nick, but he'd take him over a job any day. There were always jobs, but there was only one Nick.
He was working his way through the stack of paperwork on his desk when Brass came in, closing the door and sitting down across from him. He knew the work had to be done, but he was grateful for the interruption; this was the part of being supervisor he hated the most.
"You doing okay?"
Grissom shrugged. Okay could be interpreted in many ways.
"I know this is hard for you."
Grissom took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not used to being constantly watched. It's disconcerting."
"Not to mention it plays hell with your personal life."
"There is that, but I promised Nick. I can't really say anything because if the situation were reversed, I'd make sure Nick had protection."
"Thank God for Nick," Brass said. "I doubt any of the rest of us could have gotten you to accept police protection."
Thoughts filled with Nick, Grissom could only smirk. If Brass only knew the things Nick could get him to do.
Brass raised an eyebrow. "I would ask what that smile is for, but I'm not sure I really want to know."
Grissom's smile widened.
"Or maybe I do."
"Living vicariously, Jim?'
"Hey, it's been awhile for me. At least somebody's getting some." Brass grinned. "Or at least you were till the cops had to move in with you."
"I don't understand why they can't do surveillance from outside like a normal stakeout," Grissom complained. "Nick and I don't have a moment alone."
"You mean besides the fact that it's the middle of winter?" Brass leaned forward. "If I stationed them outside, we'd have to have two guarding you at all times, one in front of the house and one in the back. I can't spare that many men. Plus, this way we don't have a patrol car parked out front, so if this guy decides to come after you at home, he won't know we're there."
Grissom sighed. "It's just frustrating, Jim. I feel like I'm being held prisoner in my own home."
"I know. But we'll get this guy. Which brings me to the purpose of this visit. We've eliminated one more suspect and his family."
"Bringing us down to three. Good. The sooner we find him the better. I want things back the way they were, Jim."
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"Damn," Warrick said, looking at the blonde-haired woman standing on the side of the road. "There's one witness I won't be interviewing."
"Hmm?"
Warrick nodded in the direction of the woman. "Her. Dr. Gilbert. She runs the Gilbert College for the Deaf. She doesn't like me."
Nick smiled as he continued to snap pictures of the scene. "Man, I thought every woman liked you, Rick."
Warrick snorted. "Not her. She threw Sara and I out of her office. Grissom went back to rip her a new one, and that was how we found out he knows how to sign. Never did find out why."
Nick merely nodded, not about to make a comment on that. "Don't worry, I'll talk to her."
"Be sure you look her straight-on when you do. She reads lips." Warrick shook his head. "We didn't mean to disrespect her by taking a translator and talking through her. I've just never been around a deaf person, you know? We thought we were making things easier for her to tell us about her student."
"Thanks for the tip."
Nick finished photographing the scene and returned the camera to the Tahoe before beginning the questioning of the witnesses. From the looks Dr. Gilbert was throwing Warrick's way, she remembered their earlier meeting. He wouldn't make the same errors with her, especially since he wanted more from her than just an eyewitness account of the accident.
"Dr. Gilbert, my name is Nick Stokes," he said, careful not to make the mistake many people did when meeting someone with a disability by talking slow and loud. "I'm with the Las Vegas crime lab."
"Do you work with Dr. Grissom?"
Nick smiled. "Yes, ma'am, I do. I'd like to ask you some questions about the accident."
"All right. I'll answer anything I can."
Nick questioned her about what she saw, fascinated by the graceful movements of her hands as she automatically signed while she spoke. Once the questioning was completed, he quickly glanced over his shoulder at Warrick, then asked Dr. Gilbert if he could talk to her in private about something unrelated to the case.
"Certainly, Mr. Stokes. What can I help you with?"
Once again Nick looked over his shoulder at Warrick. "Ma'am, I know someone who's going deaf, someone very close to me, and I was wondering if you have anyone at your school who would be interested in tutoring me privately to learn sign language."
Dr. Gilbert tilted her head to one side as she studied Nick. As if finding what she was searching for, she suddenly smiled and said, "I think that can be arranged, Mr. Stokes."
Nick smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. I'll get in touch with you later."
Smiling, she took a business card from her pocket and handed it to him, saying, "And tell Dr. Grissom I said hello."
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Despite being the boss, Grissom wasn't allowed out on a case solo. The first time he'd tried, he'd met with such vocal opposition that he'd reluctantly caved to popular opinion, although he hadn't appreciated Catherine calling him a "horse's ass." And when Nick had made a snarky comment about knowing how it felt to be held back on solo cases, all he'd done was glare.
Three nights later Nick and Grissom were working a case together for the first time since their return to work. The tension in the Tahoe as they drove to the crime scene was palpable. Nick stared out the passenger side window, left leg bouncing with repressed energy. Grissom's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
"I'm sorry," he said into the silence.
Startled, Nick's head whipped around. "What?"
"I said I'm sorry," Grissom repeated, voice strained.
Nick blinked, wondering if he'd missed something. "What are you sorry for?"
"Everything."
"That's a pretty broad spectrum," Nick said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "Does that include world hunger?"
Grissom glanced at him. The look he was going for was irritated, but it was hard not to respond to Nick's smile and the twinkling in his dark eyes.
And just that quickly his mood was lifted.
He reached for Nick's hand where it rested on the seat between them, lacing their fingers together, and said quietly, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything. For sticking with me through this and not bolting."
Nick squeezed Gil's hand. "I wouldn't be anywhere but by your side through this. I love you, you know."
Grissom smiled at Nick, a smile that had been absent far too often during the last few weeks. "I know, Nicky. You prove it time and time again just by putting up with me. I know I can be a real bastard at work."
Nick shrugged. "Work is work. We agreed not to let it interfere with our private lives."
"But it is interfering," Grissom said earnestly. "I have a cop following me to and from every crime scene. We can't sleep together because we have an officer living with us whenever we're home. Hell, I can't even take a piss at a public urinal without a cop checking it out first."
Nick snickered. "It wasn't the urinal he was checking out."
Grissom flashed him a get real look. "That precludes any plans I had of stealing a kiss in the men's room."
Nick perked up. "Oh, yeah? You had plans for that?"
"Did I have plans, he asks. I don't think there's a dark corner anywhere in the CSI lab I haven't calculated the probability of the angle and scope of the cameras catching us in an embrace."
"I like the way you think," Nick said huskily, stroking his thumb over the back of the hand he still held. "Tell me what you thought about us doing in those dark corners."
"I-" Grissom stopped suddenly and cleared his throat. "No."
"No?"
"No. I don't intend to arrive at the crime scene in an obvious state of arousal."
Nick chuckled, continuing to stroke his thumb over Grissom's hand. "You couldn't just say hard-on, could you?"
Grissom was saved from further discussion of his physical discomfort by their arrival at the crime scene, the ever-present police shadow pulling in behind his Tahoe.
Nick and Gil got out, collected their kits and walked towards the house. They stopped when Brass met them at the front door.
"What are you doing here, Jim?" Grissom asked.
"Our B&E turned into a DB."
"What have we got?" Grissom asked as he and Nick followed Brass inside.
"Male child, no more than eight or nine, obvious signs of abuse," Brass said, stopping in front of a door in the hallway.
"How many people have opened the door?" Grissom asked, setting his kit down and pulling on latex gloves.
Nick snapped a picture of the closed door.
"Two, the perp and one of the responding officers."
Grissom shook his head but said nothing as he crouched down and began dusting for prints. There were no usable prints on the doorknob, merely smudges. The frame, however, was a goldmine of prints.
Nick documented the process on film while Brass looked on.
"Who discovered the body?" Grissom asked as he lifted prints.
"The B&E perp."
That got the attention of both Grissom and Nick. Both men stopped what they were doing and looked at Brass.
"You caught him already?"
Brass shrugged. "Didn't have to. When Officers Rondell and Steadman responded to the call from the alarm company, the perp turned himself in. He said he'd confess to the breaking and entering but he wasn't going to ‘take the rap for no dead kid'."
Looking through the viewfinder of his camera, Nick said, "We've got a reddish-brown drop."
Without being asked he reached for the phenothalene, squatting down as Grissom swabbed the miniscule droplet and applied a drop of the clear liquid. Both men knew what the color change meant.
Brass watched the two men. They didn't touch, but seeing how comfortable they were in each other's personal space, he wondered why no one else noticed the obvious intimacy between them. Maybe it was true that people only saw what they were looking for.
"What do you suppose the chances are that that's the perp's blood?"
"If there's one thing this job has taught me, Nick, it's that anything is possible."
The swab was put into evidence with the prints. Nick and Grissom stood up, preparing to open the door, Nick with his camera at the ready.
"According to Rondell, it isn't a pretty sight," Brass warned.
"It never is when there's a kid involved," Grissom said darkly.
He opened the door.
"Shit," Brass said.
"Oh, God," Nick muttered softly, hurting for the victim. "Bless his heart."
Grissom said nothing, merely tightening his mouth when he saw the little boy, chained to the wall, bruises and scratches covering his naked, emaciated body. He would never understand how someone could do this to a child.
"It's always so much harder when it's a child," David Phillips said as he came upon the scene. "I never get used to it."
"I'd worry about you if you did, David," Grissom said.
David checked the body before transport, Nick taking pictures of it all. When the body was lifted and put in the body bag, Nick sucked in his breath when he saw the obvious anal trauma. If his hands shook just a bit as he continued taking pictures, only Grissom seemed to notice, and then only because he was looking for it.
He didn't say anything, but he kept glancing at Nick as they processed the inside of the closet, looking for any sign that it was too much for him. But, like always, Nick kept his personal feelings separate from the job. How many times in the past had he done that and no one had ever known? The only time he'd ever let anything show, that Grissom knew of, was the case that had resulted in his confession to Catherine about being sexually abused as a child.
What must this be doing to him internally?
Hours later, as they were finishing up and Nick was taking the evidence to the Tahoe, Grissom pulled Brass aside.
"Jim, I need you to call off the guard, just for today."
But Brass was shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Gil, but I can't. The sheriff himself dictated the terms of your protection."
"Damn it, Jim, Nick and I need some alone time."
"I'm sorry, Gil, but you have to have a guard on duty at all times until we catch this guy. There's no getting around that."
"I'm beginning to think we're never going to find him, and I refuse to live the rest of my life in hiding. Damn it, Jim, I want my life back!"
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Grissom parked the Tahoe in his driveway but didn't get out just yet. He sat there, watching the early morning sun rising in the east. Nick didn't move either. Grissom wanted nothing so much as to pull the man into his arms, but with the officer right behind them that wasn't possible.
"Are you okay, Nick?"
Nick nodded.
"No, you're not, and there's not a fucking thing I can do about it right now," Grissom said harshly.
Nick looked at him. "I'll be okay, Gil. I've been dealing with this for a long time."
"But you shouldn't have to do it alone. I'm your partner, Nicky, and it's my place to be there when you need someone."
Nick smiled as he reached out, putting his hand on Grissom's arm. "You are here for me. I know that."
"Not the way I want to be," Grissom said, looking at him. "I can't even hold you against a bad dream because we're being watched twenty-four seven."
"This relationship isn't just about me, Gil. Right now you're the one who in need, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're safe."
Anything Gil might have said was stifled by the knock on his window and the plainclothes policeman asking, "Is everything all right, Dr. Grissom?"
Gil sighed and nodded, looking at Nick once more before opening his door and getting out. The three men went inside, Grissom turning off the alarm. Nick headed towards the kitchen to make a pot of coffee while the officer checked out the rooms, making sure no one had entered while they'd been gone.
Grissom put his briefcase on the dining table, then went into the kitchen. Nick stood there, head bowed, hands braced against the counter. He wanted to go to him, wrap his arms around him and pull him back against the safety of his body, but he couldn't.
"What do you want to eat, Nick?"
"Nothing."
"You need to eat. How about something light, maybe some fruit and toast?"
"I'm really not hungry."
"All right, Nicky," he said, reaching into the cabinet for a cup. "Do you want some coffee?"
"I don't think that's such a good idea right now."
Grissom poured his coffee and leaned against the counter as he drank it, wishing he could see Nick's face right then. The doorbell rang and he sighed, knowing it was a changing of the guard. When was this going to end? When would he and Nick have their lives back, free of a madman with a vendetta?
"You have a cup of that for a tired man?"
Grissom looked up at the first word. "Jim, what are you doing here?"
Brass entered the kitchen, one corner of his mouth turned up. "Is that the only thing you can say when you see me?"
"Sorry. I just wasn't expecting you," Grissom said.
Nick pulled another cup out of the cabinet and poured coffee, handing it to Brass.
"Thanks, Nick."
Nick turned around, leaning against the counter next to Grissom. His brows drew together as Brass sipped his coffee.
"Good coffee."
"Thanks," Nick said, then asked, "Why are you here, Jim?"
Brass shrugged. "I'm not on the schedule for tonight, so I thought I'd take my turn at babysitting." Reaching around Nick, he grabbed an apple. "And just so you know, I'm good at blocking out sounds I don't need to hear." He turned and left the kitchen, teeth sinking into the apple with a crunching sound.
Nick blinked. "Did he just say what I think he said?"
One corner of Grissom's mouth lifted. "Yes, he did." Putting his cup in the sink, he took Nick's hand. "Are you ready for bed, Nicky?"
"I...yeah."
Grissom smiled and raised Nick's hand to his lips before leading him out of the kitchen. Brass was on the sofa, watching Fox News and didn't even look up when they passed through on their way to the bedroom.
Grissom closed the door behind them and cupped Nick's face in his hands, leaning in for the first kiss they'd shared in far too long. Nick closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, hands wrapping around Grissom's forearms.
"Welcome home, Nicky."
Nick smiled. Their separation had felt like he'd been gone, and now he was back where he belonged, in the arms of the man he loved and was loved by in return.
Grissom pulled back, hands sliding down Nick's arms to his hands, taking them and leading him to the side of the bed. He began to undress Nick. Nick raised his hands, intending to unbutton his shirt, but Grissom brushed them aside, wanting to do it himself.
"Let me."
Nick nodded and stood still while Grissom slowly divested him of his clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor. Once Nick was naked, Grissom pushed him back on the bed, then quickly stripped out of his own clothing before sliding into the bed beside Nick. Rising up on an elbow, he smiled at Nick.
Nick returned the smile, one hand brushing over Grissom's jaw in a gentle caress. Grissom caught the hand before Nick could pull away and once again brought it to his mouth for a kiss.
"I feel weird knowing Brass is in the next room," Nick said.
"Just pretend you're in a hotel room and he's in a separate room."
Nick chuckled. "I hope it's not one of the hotels with paper thin walls."
Grissom smiled. "Then we'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"
"Whatever you say," Nick murmured, lifting up and fitting his mouth to Grissom's.
Grissom groaned when Nick's tongue slid between his lips, seeking and searching, one hand sliding behind his neck and pulling him down. His head slanted so he could take in more of Nick, wanting to get as close as possible, to live inside his skin. This, he decided, was what he was made for.
Nick's fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling his body further down until their chests were pressed together. Grissom shifted, throwing a leg over Nick's legs, pressing his hard dick against Nick's hip.
They hadn't been together this way since Valentine's Day, except for that brief encounter the day after he was released from the hospital, and he knew there wouldn't be much foreplay. Right now all that mattered was being one, joining bodies, hearts, minds and souls.
Releasing Nick's mouth, Grissom's lips traveled over his stubbled jaw, down the side of his neck and on further till his lips closed around a hard nipple, tugging and sucking, causing Nick's breath to hiss inward. At the same time his hand traveled down Nick's sculpted chest, over washboard abs and on down till he was able to wrap his hand around Nick's hard cock.
Nick gasped, hips thrusting up into Gil's grasp, fingers digging into the hard shoulders he held. He wasn't going to last long this time, but he didn't care. This was about more than sex. This was about a connection that had been abruptly severed and needed rejoining.
"Oh, God, Gil," Nick moaned, his breathing already a bit ragged. "I'm not going to last this way. It's been too long. You can save the foreplay and the slow loving for later. Right now I just want you in me."
Grissom had no problem with that. He was more than ready himself. Nipping at Nick's ribs, he said, "Whatever you want, Nicky."
"What I want is you."
Grissom smiled. "I believe I can accommodate you."
Nick laughed. "Then do it, old man. Shut up and show me you're back up to speed."
"Did you just call me old?"
Nick grinned.
"You like pushing the envelope, don't you?"
"Just trying to jump-start you into fucking me."
"Oh, you're going to get fucked, all right," Grissom said, reaching into the nightstand drawer for a bottle of lube.
"That's what I'm hoping for."
Grissom coated his fingers with lubricant. Nick raised his knees, feet flat on the bed, opening himself up for the invasion of slick fingers. He hissed when the first finger worked its way into him, his head arching back against the pillow.
Grissom licked his lips when he saw the look on Nick's face. His younger lover looked like he knew what pure bliss was and was reveling in the experience. It was a look he knew he'd never tire of seeing, especially since he was the reason for it.
He added another finger. His breathing picked up, matching Nick breath for breath. Moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, Grissom loosened Nick. Normally he would have taken longer, prolonging the moment until final penetration, but today they were both too anxious for the joining.
Nick raised his head, looking at Grissom through dilated dark eyes. "Now, Gil. Don't make me wait any longer."
"All right, Nicky."
He rose to his knees between Nick's legs, leaning over and kissing one upraised knee as he coated his hard cock with lube. Taking himself in hand, he guided himself to Nick's openness, pushing just the head in.
Nick's breath caught in his throat. "Yes!"
Grissom's eyes closed for a brief moment as he savored this connection. Dazed blue eyes flew open when Nick thrust up in an attempt to impale himself further. Hooking his arms under Nick's knees, he spread his legs and thrust, sinking in until his balls rested against Nick's tight ass.
Nick groaned at the fullness. He'd missed this. Not just the physical joining but the feeling of being one with Grissom, as if only together were they whole.
"Nick!" Grissom gasped as Nick's inner muscles clamped around him. He pulled back slowly, till only the head remained buried in Nick, then thrust back in, hard.
Nick grunted, hands twisting in the sheets as Grissom fucked him hard enough to move him up the mattress. Nick matched him thrust for thrust, body slick with sweat.
"I love you, Gil," Nick managed as he was being fucked through the mattress.
Dazed blue eyes opened, locking with nearly black ones. "I love you, too, Nicky. Always."
Nick smiled and laughed huskily, happy to be back in Gil's bed and have him buried in him. Gazes still linked, Nick grasped his hard-on with one hand, stroking himself in time with Gil's thrusts, using his own precum as lubricant.
Grissom gritted his teeth and threw back his head, tendons standing out in his neck as his hips took on a rhythm all their own, pushing into Nick hard and fast, brushing his prostate with each stroke. And Nick was right there with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, hand keeping time with the rhythm.
Nick came first, cum spurting over his hand and stomach. He gasped Gil's name, and that sent Grissom over the edge. With Nick's name on his lips he emptied his warm seed deep inside his lover.
Once he was back with himself from the land of bliss, he looked at Nick. The look of utter fulfillment on his face and the love shining from those dark eyes was even better than the orgasm.
Breathing still erratic, Grissom asked, "Did I successfully prove I'm back up to speed?"
Nick grinned, feeling like a puddle of goo about then. "Not bad...for an old man."
Grissom smacked Nick on the ass as he carefully pulled out. "You are such a brat."
"But you love me anyway."
"Yes, I do. I've never loved anyone the way I love you."
Nick smiled softly, running a hand caressingly over Grissom's face and lips. "I love you, too, like no one else, ever."
"I know, Nicky," Grissom said, kissing the fingers resting against his lips.
Climbing off the bed, he went to the bathroom for a wet cloth to clean Nick. If he went to sleep with drying cum on him, it would start to itch. Once he'd finished with the cleaning, he crawled back into bed, pulling Nick against him and settling the duvet over their cooling bodies.
With a sigh that ghosted over damp chest hair, Nick snuggled against Grissom, head resting on his shoulder, hand lacing with Gil's and resting on the slight pudge of the older man's stomach. This was where he was meant to be, and he was able to momentarily put aside the events of the day as long as he was curled safely in Gil's arms.
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"Well, you seem to be in a better mood tonight."
Grissom looked at Catherine and smiled. "And why wouldn't I be in a good mood?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because someone is trying to kill you?"
"I can't let it rule my life, Catherine. I have a job to do and other things to think about."
Catherine blinked. "Sometimes you're weird, you know that, don't you?"
Grissom shrugged and smiled, then turned back to his microscope. "I think that seems to be the general consensus."
"Okay," she said, turning and leaving.
As she walked down the hallway, she saw Nick in a lab by himself, working on fiber analysis. Entering the room, she moved over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Nick."
"Oh, hey, Cath," he said with a smile, a smile he'd had on his face all night.
"I heard about the case you and Gil drew last night."
Well, it seemed there was one thing that could wipe the smile from his face. Licking his lips, he said, "Yeah, it was a bad one. A little boy, tortured and sexually abused."
"How are you holding up?"
He shrugged. "A case like that is always difficult. But I didn't have any nightmares, if that's what you're worried about. My sessions with Dr. Kane have helped in that area."
"Good," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "If you need to talk to someone else, I'm here."
"I know, Cath. But I'm fine. Really. I haven't had a nightmare in months."
"As long as you're dealing, then I'm happy."
"I am."
"Good. So, any leads on the case?"
Nick sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. The boy's mother died two years ago. The father is a businessman who sometimes has to go out of town. He's always had his cousin watch the boy. He didn't know she had a new boyfriend, an ex-con who'd been in jail for being a sexual predator."
Catherine shook her head sadly. "It's never easy being a single parent. You try to do right, but you're always second guessing yourself, and for something like this to happen..."
"Yeah, the guy was real torn up when he got home today and found out what happened. It was hard, seeing him breakdown in the morgue when he saw his son."
"I know, Nicky," Catherine said softly.
"And with the DNA evidence against the guy, he'll never see the light of day again."
"Sometimes that's all we can do. We collect the evidence and process it, then let it speak for itself."
Nick sighed. "I'm just glad, for the father's sake, that we were able to find that evidence so quickly. Cops caught the guy trying to leave town." Nick's dark eyes gleamed. "Seems the guy tripped and ran into a door while trying to escape. Resulted in a couple of busted ribs, a black eye and a split lip."
"Good. Let's hope he runs into a few more down the line."
"Nah, I just hope he ends up in a cell with a three-hundred pound man named Bubba who hasn't seen a woman in ten years and has an intense dislike of someone who preys on little kids."
"Well, I don't think there's anything I can add to that. I'll let you get back to work." Catherine sighed. "I have shoeprints waiting for me."
Nick laughed. That was one part of forensics they all seemed to have a dislike of.
Nick turned back to his fiber analysis, but his head popped up when he heard Catherine in the hallway talking to Brass. He watched them through the glass wall. Once Catherine had walked away, Brass motioned for him to come out.
"Jim?" Nick questioned once he was standing beside the man.
"I need to talk to Gil, Nick. I think you should be there."
"Okay."
Nick followed Brass into the lab where Gil was working. Grissom smiled when he saw Nick, resulting in a blush from the younger man. But then Grissom saw Brass, and his brows drew together.
"I know; what am I doing here?"
"You did say you were off tonight."
"Yeah, I am, but I got some news, and I thought I should be the one to tell you."
Grissom straightened away from the table. He looked at Nick, who shrugged, then looked at Brass. "What news, Jim?"
"Is it about the guy who's trying to kill Gris?" Nick asked.
"You could say that. I'm sorry, guys, but we've cleared everyone on the list."
Grissom merely blinked.
"Then we start over," Nick said. "We can't just give up."
"We're not giving up, Nick," Brass said, "but the sheriff has decided it's too expensive to keep a guard on Gil twenty-four seven."
"What?" Nick questioned incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, Nick, I wish I was. He's decided it's a waste of county time and money."
Nick was shaking his head. "He can't do that. Doesn't he realize taking away his protection will leave him open to more attacks?"
"You know the sheriff's main concern is politics, and this isn't a case high up on the political scale of public awareness."
"No. Damn it, how can he do this?"
Grissom put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "It's okay, Nick."
Nick turned and glared at him. "No, Gris, it isn't okay. There's some guy out there who wants you dead, and we're just supposed to sit around and wait till he tries again? Till he succeeds? I don't think so."
"Nick," Grissom said in that reasonable tone that Nick sometimes hated, "we don't even know he'll try again. His failure, coupled with the police protection, might have scared him away."
"Might have? There's no room in this for might have."
"Nick-"
"No, Gris." Nick shook his head, hurt evident in his dark eyes. "I refuse to sit around and wait for someone to try to kill you. I won't do it."
Nick turned and stormed from the room. Grissom started to follow him, but Brass stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"Let me, Gil."
Grissom sighed, closed his eyes and ran a hand over his mouth. "All right, Jim," he said tiredly.
This was one of those situations in a relationship he still wasn't sure how to handle. He knew what he wanted. What he wanted was to go to Nick, to pull him into his arms and insure him everything would be all right, but he couldn't, for several reasons. He couldn't publicly announce his relationship with Nick, and he couldn't assure him everything would be all right when he didn't know it would.
Watching Jim head down the hall in the direction Nick had gone, he wondered if being part of a couple would ever come easy to him.
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Grabbing his leather jacket, the one Gil had gotten him for Christmas to replace the one Nigel Crane had worn, he slipped it on and headed outside, hoping the frigid night air would help to calm him down. He doubted it, but it was worth a shot.
That was where Brass found him, leaning against the brick wall, hands in his pockets, head tilted back to look at the sky. There weren't any clouds, but with all the light pollution, he couldn't see the stars. If there was one thing he missed about Texas, other than his family, it was seeing the stars at night.
"Hey, Nicky."
"Jim."
Brass settled against the side of the building next to Nick, looking up as well. "You okay?"
Nick sighed. "Yeah. I didn't mean to freak out, but I almost lost him once. I don't want to go through that again."
"I know, Nick. And while Gil might not be getting official protection any longer, I don't intend to let him go completely without."
"What do you have in mind?"
Brass shrugged. "Well, there has been a rash of burglaries in the area where you guys live, so it's only natural that the patrols would be increased."
"That's a start. What else?"
"Well, if, say, my apartment was being painted, I might need a place to sleep for a few weeks."
"Well, we have a spare bedroom you're welcome to. Wouldn't want you to be overcome by paint fumes," Nick said, a hint of humor creeping into his voice.
"Thanks, Nick. I knew I could count on you."
"Whatever it takes. Right, Jim?"
"Right, Nicky, whatever it takes."
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Grissom walked into the spare bedroom and looked around curiously. "What are you doing, Nicky?"
"Changing the sheets and making the bed."
"And it's something that needs to be done now rather than on our day off?"
"Our guest needs clean sheets," Nick said, tucking in one corner of the sheet before moving to the next corner.
Grissom tilted his head to one side. "Guest? What guest?"
"Jim's apartment is being painted, and he needed someplace to crash."
"Bullshit," Grissom said succinctly.
Nick stood up and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"
"I said bullshit. Jim's apartment isn't being painted. He's coming here to play babysitter."
"I think he sees it as more of a bodyguard for a friend."
Grissom shook his head, walking further into the room till he stood directly in front of Nick. "I don't need a bodyguard, Nicky."
"Yes, Gil, you do. There's still someone out there with a grudge against you, and I'm not taking any chances with your life."
"And what if he never makes another attempt? What then? Am I to have a babysitter the rest of my life?" Grissom asked heatedly.
Nick's eyes narrowed. "If that's what it takes. If I have to hire a bodyguard to watch you, I will." One hand lifted to cup Gil's face. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Grissom sighed, covering Nick's hand with his own. "You know I value my privacy and the time we have alone."
"I know, Gil, and I do, too, but your safety is more important to me than privacy."
Grissom's eyes closed as he leaned forward, touching his forehead to Nick's. "All right, Nicky, we'll give it two weeks."
Nick touched his lips lightly to Grissom's. "Thank you, Gil."
Before Gil could respond, the doorbell rang. He sighed and pulled away. "That will be Jim. I'll get it."
Nick finished making the bed. He expected Brass to bring his suitcase into the room, but when he didn't show, Nick went in search of him, calling Gil's name as he entered the living room.
"Stay back, Nicky," Grissom said tightly.
Nick stopped abruptly, his breath catching in his throat. "What's going on here?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the blonde woman with the gun trained on Gil.
His heart felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest as he took in the scene, Gil with his hands at chest level, the woman wide-eyed, both hands grasping the gun in a practiced grip. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he inched closer.
"Stop right there," the woman said, moving the gun in his direction.
"Don't come any closer, Nicky. Please," Grissom said, his voice plainly showing his fear not for himself but for his lover.
"All right," Nick said, making sure his hands stayed in plain sight.
Nodding her head in Nick's direction, she said, "Sit on the couch. Slowly."
Nick did as instructed, never taking his eyes off the woman with the 9mm held in gloved hands. At least while she was focused on him, she wasn't pointing the gun at Gil. "Okay, ma'am, I'm sitting down now. I'm not going to do anything. There's really no need for the gun."
"That's where you're wrong," the woman said. Pointing the gun at Grissom once again, she motioned him towards the sofa. "You. Over there on the other end. No sudden movements."
Grissom complied, like Nick keeping his hands where she could see them. Once he was seated, the woman moved further into the room where she could watch them both without being close enough for them to make a grab for her.
It wasn't the anger glinting in her blue eyes that scared Nick. Anger and fear were emotions, and those could be influenced. No, what scared Nick was that she was so calm and seemed completely comfortable handling the gun.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
"Nick," Grissom growled in a warning to not draw her attention to him.
But Nick ignored him. He wanted her talking, wanted to know what was behind her attempts on Gil's life. "I mean, it was you who hit him with that car, wasn't it?"
"Yes, and he should have died then," she spat.
"And it was you in the Saturn out front?"
"Yes. But I couldn't get close to him again after that since there was always a cop around. You thought I wouldn't know all those men coming and going weren't plainclothes cops? I just had to wait till there were no more around."
"Whatever grievance you have against me," Grissom managed to say calmly through a dry throat, "Nick has nothing to do with it. Let him go."
"And leave a witness? Do you think I'm stupid, Mr. Ecklie?"
"Ecklie?" Nick and Grissom both said in disbelief.
"Yes. I know exactly who you are."
"I'm not Conrad Ecklie," Grissom said.
"He's not," Nick confirmed. "His name is Gil Grissom."
The woman snorted. "You think I'm stupid because I'm blonde? I know you're Conrad Ecklie. I saw you through the window in the courtroom with your charts and your computer simulation, and when I asked who the CSI of record was, I was told Conrad Ecklie."
"I'm not Ecklie," Grissom reiterated. "I can prove it if you'll just let me get my driver's license out."
"I don't think so. Don't move. I'm not falling for any of your tricks."
"If you think I'm Ecklie, how did you find this house?"
"I followed you from the CSI lab, how do you think?"
"I'm a little confused here," Grissom said. "What is it you think I'm guilty of?"
"Frank Reynolds was killed during a high speed pursuit when a civilian broad-sided his car. You presented evidence, saying it was nothing but an accident. The guy who killed Frank walked away a free man because of you."
"It was an accident. Officer Reynolds went through a red light at night at a high rate of speed without lights or sirens. Mr. Slone was going through a green light at the posted speed limit. He had no way of knowing a police car would be going through at the same time," Grissom said in his lecturing voice.
"That's a lie! Frank was a good cop. He knew what he was doing and wouldn't have broken protocol."
Grissom tilted his head in a considering manner. "You're not Maria Reynolds because I met her."
The woman smiled tightly. "No, I'm not. I'm Janice Goodwin, the girlfriend. The little wife pitched such a fit at Frank's funeral that the other cops tossed me out. There was no way I would have been allowed in that courtroom. But I'm smart, and I know how to find out things."
"If you'd been in the courtroom, Ms. Goodwin, you'd know I'm not Conrad Ecklie."
"I saw you there, and it was your name on the police report."
"Yes, I was there. Ecklie had to have emergency surgery to have his appendix removed, so I covered for him during the trial."
"Nice try," she said, raising one brow, "but it won't work. I told you, I'm not stupid."
"If you're so sure," Nick said, "then it won't hurt to see his license. That way you'll know you're right."
One corner of her mouth lifted. "Your Southern charm won't work on me."
"I'm not trying to charm you, ma'am. I merely want you to know for sure who it is you're planning on killing. How would you feel if you killed the wrong person?" he asked reasonably.
That made her pause momentarily, but then her mouth tightened. "Oh, you are good, I'll give you that, but you can't make me doubt myself."
"I don't understand why you're doing this, Ms. Goodwin."
"Why? You want to know why? Frank was going to leave his wife for me. I was pregnant with his child, but after Frank was killed I lost it because of the grief. Now I don't have Frank, and I don't have his child, and you're the reason his killer went free. You can't be allowed to live, Mr. Ecklie. Frank and our baby have to have justice." She raised the gun, training it on Grissom with a steady hand.
"Wait!" Nick said, trying not to let his panic show. He couldn't sit there and watch while she shot the man he loved.
"I've waited long enough."
"You know you won't get away with this, that you'll be caught? We might not be cops, but we work for the police department."
"What does it matter? I have nothing else left to lose."
Grissom licked dry lips. If she thought she had nothing to lose, she wouldn't hesitate to kill them both. He couldn't let Nick be hurt because of him. "Look, Ms. Goodwin, there's no need to involve Nick in this. Let him go. He had nothing to do with Officer Reynolds' case."
Nick glared at him. "Shut up, Gil. I'm not leaving you here with a woman with a gun pointed at you."
Grissom glared right back. "And you think I'm going to sit around and watch while she kills you, too?"
"Neither one of you is going anywhere, so both of you can just shut up."
The two men continued to glare at one another, blue eyes into nearly black and vice versa. The woman across from them saw anger, but they knew the anger was directed at her and the situation. What they saw when they looked at each other was fear and love.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught Nick's attention. Without turning his head, he cut his eyes towards the window behind and to the left of Janice Goodwin. Brass was there, looking in the window, and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. Turning his eyes to Gil once more, he smiled.
Grissom's brows drew together in confusion at that sudden smile.
"Hey, Gil," Nick said, expressive eyebrows raised questioningly, "do you remember that song that says something about got Brass in pocket?"
Grissom's eyes widened in understanding, and he had to bite his lip to keep it from curling up. With a look he tried to convey to Nick the need to keep talking, to keep the woman's attention on themselves. Nick gave an imperceptible nod of his head that looked like more of a twitch, but Grissom knew he'd gotten the message.
Going for a scowl, Grissom said, "You know I don't keep up with pop culture, Nick, and this is hardly the time for you to be bringing it up."
Nick snorted. "If not now, then when? It's not like we're going to be living long enough to play Trivial Pursuit, now is it?"
"And what? That's my fault?"
Nick shrugged. "You're the one she came to kill. I'm just an innocent bystander caught up in the drama of your life."
"So that's how you feel?"
"Oh, come on, man. It's not like this is the first time someone has tried to kill you." Nick turned to look at her. "You do know that, don't you? You're not the first to want him dead."
"Oh, and no one has tried to kill you?" Grissom questioned heatedly.
Nick leaned closer. "Seems like it's all part of the job. But at least the ones who tried to kill me knew who I was. No one has ever mistaken me for Conrad Ecklie."
"And I guess that's my fault, too?"
The woman was watching them, eyes swinging back and forth between them as they argued. She'd been calm throughout the whole thing, but arguments like that tended to remind her of her parents. "Shut up!" she said harshly. "Both of you just shut the hell up! I don't want to hear another word out of either of you. Is that clear?"
"Yeah," Nick said, turning his glare on her. He could see Brass creeping through the hallway, gun at the ready. "But he's the one who started it."
"Sure, blame it on me," Grissom said, sounding like a petulant little boy. "It's always my fault."
"Hey, if the shoe fits..."
"Shut up! I've heard enough! You're both going to die, so it doesn't matter whose fault it is, does it?" With that she raised the gun to shoulder level, pointing it at the man she thought was Conrad Ecklie.
"Police!" Brass called, having managed to move within two feet of her without her being aware because of the distraction the two men had provided. "Drop the gun, now!"
Nick saw it in her eyes. She thought she had nothing to lose, so she intended to take her target with her. Moving a split second before she fired, he flew across the sofa, grabbing Gil and knocking him to the floor, landing on top of him, just barely missing the corner of the coffee table with his head. He could feel the breeze from the bullet as it landed in the back of the sofa in the exact spot where Grissom had been sitting.
Brass tackled her, knocking her facedown on the wooden floor, the gun flying out of her hand and skittering under the coffee table, mere inches from Nick and Gil. With one knee in the small of her back, Brass pulled her hands behind her and cuffed them, all the while reciting her rights.
"You guys okay?" he asked as he got to his feet and pulled her up.
"Yeah," Nick said shakily as he sat up, leaning back against the sofa, Grissom sitting close enough that their legs touched.
Brass said nothing about the sheen of moisture in Nick's dark eyes. "I'm guessing there's quite a story to tell here."
Nick snorted as Grissom said, "You have no idea."
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Nick and Warrick stood side by side, looking into the interrogation room at Janice Goodwin as Brass questioned her. The ironic part was that Ecklie was in the room, too, having been the responding CSI to the crime scene at Gil's townhouse.
"So she's the one who was trying to kill Gris?"
Nick nodded. "Yeah. Except she thought he was Ecklie."
Warrick huffed. "Can't say there hasn't been a time or two I've wanted to kill Ecklie myself, but I've never followed through."
"I know what you mean. I wanted to do it when he accused me of killing Kristi."
"Yeah, man," Warrick said, squeezing Nick's shoulder, "that was rough. At least Catherine was able to clear you."
"Yeah," Nick said softly. Even after all this time, Kristi was still a sore spot, as much for the fact that she'd lied to him as for the fact that she'd been killed.
"At least you can go home now," Warrick said. "I bet you're ready for that."
One corner of Nick's mouth lifted. "Oh, you have no idea how ready I am to sleep in my own bed again."
Having entered the room quietly, Grissom said from behind them, "One would think you didn't like living in my house, Nick."
Nick turned around. "You have to admit you're a dangerous man to be around, Gris. You're like a trouble magnet."
One of Grissom's eyebrows rose. "Isn't that rather like the pot calling the kettle black?"
Warrick laughed. "He's got you there, bro." Tossing his paper cup in the trash, he said, "Well, I'm out of here. I have evidence to process."
"See ya, Rick," Nick said.
Grissom nodded his head in Warrick's direction as he left the room.
Grissom moved closer to the glass, and Nick turned to look through it again.
"So you're ready to move back to your own place?" Grissom questioned after a while.
"Yeah. Nothing personal, Gris, but your guest room isn't where I want to be. My own bed is much more comfortable. And it's definitely warmer."
Nick's arm brushed Gil's. To the casual observer it would have looked like an accident, but Gil knew the caress for what it was.
"Well, you'll be back in your own bed now."
"And I hope I never have cause to leave it again."
Grissom smiled and said softly, "Me, too, Nicky. Me, too."
THE END
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