Title: What Nick Wants
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Warning: PG13
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them
Summary: Nick takes a small break to think things over.
Sequel to List of Lasts

When Nick finds himself propping up the bar at the Badlands Saloon, making occasional but deliberate eye contact with a guy in an expensive looking red T-shirt five stools down, he knows the situation is officially and categorically what his dad would term FUBAR.

He hunches over his beer and frowns. He shouldn't be here, courting temptation. He should be at the gym, a place he's been visiting less and less over the past weeks. Or at home, doing his laundry. Or at the supermarket, buying a few essentials like toilet paper. Or doing any of the things that he used to do before Gil.

He has an overwhelming desire to smoke, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't smoked since he was in college. He grabs a handful of peanuts instead, but they're not as satisfying or as soothing as he remembers that first drag of every cigarette being. Red T-shirt has a pack of Marlboros on the bar in front of him, but in the past 40 minutes he's only smoked one cigarette.

Nick doesn't really know what he's doing here, other than that he wants a break, a return to his previous life.

Being with Gil is great. Nick would be satisfied, if only it weren't for all the other crap: the pretending, the uncertainty, the waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wishes Catherine was still his supervisor. Not that Gil and Nick would come out as a couple to all and sundry, but at least they wouldn't have to feel guilty and wrong.

Nick knows Gil doesn't feel good about what they're doing. Gil doesn't speak about it; he made a decision and now he's not going to whine about the difficulties, he's just going to tough it out. Nick can't whine either, first of all because Gil has little patience with whiners and, more importantly, because Nick was the one that supported this "wait and see" direction.

But he wants to whine. He wants to whine and rant and howl at the moon about how unfair it all is. So instead he's standing in a bar at ten in the morning, eyeing some guy. Not to mention the guy's cigarettes.

Nick takes a long drink and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He wishes that for once in his life, he could be in a relationship without worrying about repercussions. In the past, his only worry had been about being outed. No small thing, not in Nick's book, but at least it served to unite him and whoever he was with in a kind of defiant "screw everybody" mentality. This "us against the world" might have even prolonged a couple of relationships, Nick muses.

But now it's different. Being outed is the least of Nick's worries. He knows he got off really lightly with Warrick; if the situation were reversed, Nick wouldn't have been as forgiving. How will the rest of the team react if they find out about his relationship with Gil? What will they think about Gil's or his professionalism, integrity and honesty towards them and towards the job? Ecklie will almost certainly fire Grissom, if he finds out. And what if leaked information about them leads to evidence being disqualified, like that asshole Gerard had tried to do with Sara? The questions nag at him every day and are slowly corroding any good feelings about his relationship with Gil.

"Can I buy you another one?" Red T-shirt has moved and is now sitting next to Nick, smiling at him. He's younger than Nick, not bad-looking, and his smile is warm and sincere. Nick smiles back, but shakes his head.

"I don't think I've seen you around before," Red T-shirt says casually. "Are you from out of town?"

Nick fights the urge to say that yes, he is, and to then let things lead where they might. This is what he wants, something uncomplicated, simple, with no strings attached, no commitments or expectations. What he has with Gil is none of the above. And yet...

"No, I live here," he finally answers. "Just killing some time before I need to meet my friend."

Red T-shirt winces ruefully. "Sorry about that," he says. He picks up his beer mug and his cigarettes and moves back to his old seat. Nick wants to ask him for a cigarette, but that would be the second bad idea in as many minutes.

He drains his beer and walks out of the bar. He climbs into his truck, wondering what to do. Despite their decision to "ride it out", Gil and he are being more careful, meeting less frequently. When they do meet, they try to avoid uncomfortable topics like work, or the future, or the team. On one level Nick knows it's the worst thing they can possibly do. But it's the only thing they can do, until one or the other makes up his minds one way or another.

He's tired. He should really go to bed, he hasn't been sleeping well for quite a while. The image of Gil lying asleep pops into his brain and he suddenly wants to be half-asleep in Gil's arms, not thinking about anything.

Nick drives through streets snarled with traffic. Finally he turns into Gil's road and pulls up outside his house. All the blinds are drawn, a sign that Gil is in bed. Nick turns off the engine, but doesn't get out. He sits there, his head leaning back against the headrest, just looking at the house.

"I choose you," he'd told Gil not too long ago. But he hadn't really. They were just pretty words, uttered in the heat of the moment, he thinks, his stomach twisting in shame. If he'd really chosen Gil, he'd have already done what needs to be done, what only he can do.

"I quit," he whispers, rehearsing the words, testing how they feel. Sofia went back to being a cop. He could too. He wouldn't be the same rank as Sofia, but he can make his way up.

He thinks of Red T-shirt, but the man's face is already a blur. Then he thinks of Gil, and he knows that what he feels for Gil goes beyond anything he's ever felt before. "I quit," he repeats to himself, and he starts to smile. It feels so right, and the burst of happiness makes him tear up.

"Aw, shit," he mutters, rubbing his eyes with the thumb and middle finger of his left hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.

When he looks at Gil's house again, he sees the door is open. Gil is standing in the sunlight in a red T-shirt and sweatpants, looking sleepy and disheveled. Nick doesn't stop to wonder how Gil knew he was out there, although later he will think of it as a sign. He gets out of the truck and moves towards Gil.

"What are you doing here?" Gil asks him.

Nick reaches out and smoothes the frayed neck of Gil's T-shirt. "I came to tell you that I quit," he tells Gil. "And that I love you."

Although Gil says nothing in return, Nick sees the look in his face, hears the catch in his breath. And finally, Nick has what he wants.