Previous part of Where You Are.
***
Chapter 16: Separation Anxiety"Dinner was great," Nick remarked while reclining in the Denali. Normally he insisted on driving when working with Greg, but he was so relaxed that he had opted to kick back in the passenger seat instead.
"Yeah, I had a blast," Greg confirmed, still buzzing from the fun.
"Your dad is great." The youngest of seven Stokes kids sighed, "I'm totally jealous of the relationship you two have. My dad was a great provider when I was growin' up, and he loves his kids, but…he's not fun like Dave. He's fourteen years older than your dad, and a real serious guy. He plays with the grandchildren on holidays and stuff, but with us kids it's all political and legal talk."
"My dad works hard," Greg said, "but he believes in playing hard too. Of course nowadays he gets to play and let other people manage the Engineering firm. He picks his projects and spends the rest of his time golfing and traveling on business and pleasure. He just got back from a conference in Turkey. Istanbul sits on a major fault line and geologists predict there will be a major quake there in the not so distant future. My dad went there as a consultant. He said it's a retro-fitters dream, but he opted not to bid on contracts. He used to be money hungry, because he grew up really poor and was determined to make a different life for his family. Building the house in Santa Gabriel, sending me to private school, and surprising my mom with a vacation home in Maui for her fortieth birthday were really major accomplishments for him, but after turning sixty last year and realizing he's set for three lifetimes, he decided to pull back and smell the roses. I really admire him for not being greedy, and my mom deserved to get him back after losing him to the business for twenty five years."
Nick smiled at his buddy. "I guess that makes greed not important to you either, since you're the sole heir to your parents' money, but then again, I already knew that about you, because you wouldn't have taken a 50 pay cut to work in the field." It was comforting to know their moral compasses pointed in the same direction.
"Hell, with my Chem degrees and experience I could be making a fortune working for a research company."
"But instead you've decided to dedicate your life to helping victims." Nick nodded approvingly. "And that's exactly why I like and respect you, Greggo."
Greg reflexively replied in a dreamy voice, "And you doing the same thing with your life is why I like and respect you. You're the reason I wanted to be in the field in the first place. Your passion for the job really impacted me. I'd listen to you talk and want to be out there and experience the rush of solving cases and getting justice for victims. I couldn't wait for the chance and now I'm living the dream…with you." Realizing he sounded incredibly gushy, bordering on lovestruck, Greg covered, "And Sara too. I always admired her drive for nailing bad guys."
"Why'd you have to bring Sara up, dude?" Nick laughed, "My ego was enjoyin' the strokes. I like thinkin' I was solely responsible for motivating you into the field. Sara…pfft."
Greg burst into a smile. "Sorry for ruining the moment."
"Dinner was great," Sara announced, happy that she had been able to enjoy a meal in public with her man. "Until I outed us that is." She lifted a box marked 'Presentation Materials #5'. "Is this the one you need?"
"Gil nodded, relieved that the missing box had been located. "There is a silver-lining to Jim busting us. Not only can we can be ourselves around him now, we can take him out with us and eat in public more often."
"Instead of him being our designated driver, he'll be our designated cover."
"Exactly." Since he couldn't bend and lift, Gil continued to utilize his girlfriend. "There are two more boxes in that cabinet." He pointed. "They're marked 'Samples 1 and 2'."
As she walked to the cabinet, Sara said, "I talked to Greg in the locker room before shift. He's really excited for this conference opportunity, and really nervous."
"It's intimidating the first time." Gil thought back to his first disastrous presentation. "I was a bumbling idiot and almost fainted."
"I find it impossible to believe you ever sounded bumbly." Setting the first box on the table, she winked. "Hearing you lecture at Berkeley was when I realized what I wanted to do for the rest or my life. Your passion for the job touched me. I started dreaming of field work and helping victims without voices. That's why I transferred from the Coroner's Office to CSI. A few years later, when you invited me to Vegas," she continued with a smile, "I was thrilled, because it meant working my dream job next to the guy who inspired the dream."
"Really?" With a wink, Gil replied, "I thought you agreed to come here because you were hot for my body."
"Yeah, well, I was hoping we'd be sleeping together eventually," she droned, "I certainly didn't expect to wait six years for the sex. Looking back, I can't believe I did. I should have given up that day you turned me down when I asked you out to dinner."
"You really should have." Standing behind her, he stealthily grazed his fingertips over her back and whispered into her ear, "But I'm thrilled that you didn't. I…"
"Knock knock!" Brass shouted from the door. "I hate to break up the love fest, but I have Marc Wesson in the interrogation room and need Sara with me when I grill him about his wife's disappearance."
"Get your mind out of the gutter." Blushing, Sara hurried for the door. "I was just helping Grissom with his materials since he can't do any heavy lifting."
"Is that what the kids are calling Second Base these days?" Brass laughed at his own joke, "Sorry for ruining the moment."
"Five days without me," Greg casually remarked to his housemate as they walked the muddy lakeside looking for human remains or evidence of a body dump. "How are you going to survive?"
"Are you kidding?" Nick shook his head while shining his flashlight at the ground from left to right. "I'll have our TV all to myself, I won't have to hear that ridiculous Techno crap you call music, and I won't have to share my beer."
"Okay, if we're being honest, I'll admit to needing a break from country music. It's waaaaay too depressing." Greg laughed, "You know what you get when you play a country song backwards, doncha? You get your girlfriend back, your coon dog back, your truck back…"
"Hey! There are three very important things in my life: A&M, my mama, and Country Music. Don't ever slam them."
"Were those listed in order of importance?"
Nick pondered the question, "It's a tie between A&M and my mama, and then Country Music second."
"And your best friend? Where does he fall in the pecking order?" Greg silently chided himself for asking such an insecure question.
"You are only goin' away for five days, right, G?" Nick quipped to his insecure buddy, "Because it's startin' to feel like you're goin' off to war and wonderin' if I'll be waitin' for you when you get back."
"Uh…" Greg decided to joke away the awkwardness, "Sorry, I don't mean to sound like a stalker, because 'been there, done that', right? No, it's the pre-conference nerves talking. I'm feeling a little insecure and looking for validation anywhere I can get it. Grissom keeps freaking me out saying things like 'you better know your part backwards and forwards, because if you look like an ass, then I'll look like an ass, and I don't like looking like an ass in a packed lecture hall in front of a thousand people. There won't just be forensics students there, Greg, there will be over two hundred and fifty of my colleagues, so you better have your ducks in a row'."
"Grissom does that psych-out BS to everyone the first time. He did it to me, 'Rick, Cath.."
"Did it help?"
"Yeah, it helped me a lot." Nick nodded in confirmation. "It helped me puke my guts out in the bathroom before and after my presentation. Seriously, that man had me a nervous wreck, I'm not kiddin' about the pukin'."
"That's so not what I needed to hear, thanks." His stomach churning, Greg watched his flashlight's beam glide across the reeds and contemplated drowning himself in the lake.
Figuring that his best friend was choking on stomach acid, Nick said, "A great coach doesn't use fear and shame to motivate his players, he builds up their confidence with positive reinforcement, and heavy doses of encouragement and unconditional love. My freshman year of high school I was scared shitless as my first game approached, but Coach Bales took all my fears away in less than sixty seconds. He pulled me aside right as I was about to go under the Friday Night Lights and said 'Stokes, if you go out there and give 80 and score the winning touchdown, I'll be disappointed in you. It truly isn't about winning or losing, it's how you play, and if you play with your heart and soul, and then collapse at the end of the game because you gave every ounce of yourself, then I'll be proud of you no matter what the scoreboard says.' He knew that once he had his players trust, and built their confidence…the scoring and winning would follow, and he was right. We were JV State Champs that year."
"I wish Coach Bales was taking me to Long Beach instead of Grissom."
"Sadly, he was killed by a drunk driver during my junior year." Sighing, Nick said, "He was so loved in the community, six thousand people showed up for his memorial service on the football field. Grissom is a smart guy, Greg, and a master of his field, but he isn't a great leader, and he's a pretty crappy supervisor sometimes. Catherine told me that a while back when I when I was walkin' around the lab tryin' my hardest to be his carbon copy. She advised me to stop tryin' to emulate him and be my own man. Those were some wise words right there."
"Yeah," Greg sighed. "His supervisory style is best described as Bipolar. Some days he loves me and other days I think he's seconds away from strangling me even when I'm doing everything right."
Nick chuckled, "I think his sporadic animosity toward you is directly related to your flirtations with Sara."
"I think you may be right."
"If you get cold feet in California before the presentation, don't tell Grissom, his words of wisdom will have your runnin' for the roof." Stopping when he noticed a shiny object in his flashlight's beam, Nick said, "If you get scared, you call my cell, I'll calm you down and build you up, okay? Any time."
"Thanks." Just like that, Greg's stomach stopped rumbling. "I think that's all I really needed to hear."
"Five days without me," Sara remarked when she returned to help Gil pack his presentation materials. "How will you survive?"
"It will feel odd." It was three a.m., and since everyone else was out working in the field, Grissom felt comfortable discussing personal matters. "We've been together every day since I returned from my sabbatical."
"That's why it will be so different this time, compared to when you left for Williams." Hearing her significant other say 'sabbatical' aggravated old wounds. "Well, that and because you bothered to tell me you were leaving ahead of time and why." Watching his jaw drop, she said, "Sorry, apparently I'm still subconsciously smarting a little."
"I still am too….from the fact that I totally discounted your feelings at the time, and from what you just said. No, of course this conference doesn't have anything to do with you. I was asked to do this lecture six months ago and I added the extra day on because I'm hooking Greg up with people who will most likely want to publish his paper." His anxiety rising, Gil moved around his desk, taking a seat in his chair. "I guess I thought once I asked you to live with me, the insecurities would disappear."
"Me too," she confessed, "but they're still there and now the stakes are even higher. I don't just lose you, I lose my home."
Baffled by the sudden change of tone, Gil honestly queried, "How the hell did we go from happily packing boxes to worrying about things falling apart?"
"You said the S word."
"I thought the L word I said a few weeks ago would supersede any residual negativity from the S word.
"Me too," she reluctantly admitted, "but I guess I have a little PTSD from your poorly executed S departure. I'm sure over time it will disappear."
"But we're okay about this conference, aren't we? You know that me leaving this time has nothing to do with you, right?"
"Absolutely," she pushed out a smile. "We're good. Great actually. Fantastic."
"The lady doth protest too much."
"Nah, the lady's just overtalking like she always does." Sara returned to packing lecture materials. "Don't worry about it."
"Is that actually how you feel?" he prodded for clarification. "Or in girlfriend talk does it mean I should worry."
"It's means don't worry, just pack."
"Okay." He returned to his box, not sure if he believed her. "Got it."
"I've got something!" Greg shouted from his position at the water's edge. "Never mind. It's just a piece of wood that looks like a femur. Ugh, we've been out here for two hours."
"It's a needle in a haystack assignment," Nick grumbled, "and the tip called in is probably bullshit to begin with." Glancing down at the mud covering his waders, he said, "Don't tell your groupies at the conference that the job is this unglamorous. Let them think it's all high tech fun and glitzy crime solving like on the TV shows. That's why eighty percent of the college students are Forensics majors. Little do they know we sometimes spend a good part of our day digging through the garbage and smelling like shit."
"Groupies?" Greg quizzed from ten yards away.
"Oh yeah, Grissom didn't tell you?" Nick's good 'ol boy laugh shot through the night air. "Whenever the conference takes place on a college campus, you get a ton of students who think you're a rock star. They even think Grissom's a rock star, some of 'em even think he's a god. You'll see. He'll even get twenty-one year old girls battin' eyelashes."
Greg visualized the moment. "Eww. That's like Sting getting it on with a teenager."
"Yeah, bring some antacid pills, and just in case you change your strict policy on casual sex, bring lots of condoms." Trudging through the mud he snickered, "It won't just be the co-eds gettin' jiggy either, noooo, those geeks are a horny bunch, man. It's kinda like the Little People and Chubby Club Conventions that come to Vegas. It's a great opportunity to hook up, because they're with their own kind and don't have to worry about feelin' out of place. A guy shows up with a jar of racin' roaches in real life and chicks run screamin' from the room wonderin' where his hands have been, but at a Forensics conference…that's hot, and if your roaches win, you're Brad Pitt."
"Like I needed another reason to be freaked out about going." In need of a drink, Greg started heading for the cooler they had placed with their supplies. "Even if my roaches win, I don't think I'll party like a movie star back in my hotel room."
"Yeah, I didn't think I'd sleep with anyone when I went to my first, but there were some really desperate chicks there and I felt obligated to put them out of their misery." Nick laughed, "They even build a booty call opportunity into the schedule, you'll see. There's a two hour break before resuming for dinner and the evening speakers. That way you can sleep with one person before dinner, have a shower, and then sleep with another person at night without feeling nasty about it."
"Like sleeping with two different people in the same day doesn't automatically make you feel nasty?" Greg rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I know you're making all this booty call stuff up."
"You think so, huh? Then ask yourself this…why would Catherine volunteer to go to go to a convention in Toledo? In January no less."
"Good point." Greg walked towards his buddy laughing. "Just to be safe, I'll bring a jar of fast roaches and a box of Trojans."
Surprised by his housemate's sudden attitude change, Nick glanced up. "So you really are gonna amend your casual sex policy for Long Beach?"
Greg shook his head as he sifted through the mud. "I didn't say that."
Nick smiled as he crouched down to bag a beer bottle.
All the blabbering about his buddy bagging babes at past conferences made Greg slip into melancholy, "If I find the love of my life in Long Beach, and we fall into bed, then the sex won't be casual. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, you know? There are no accidents. So maybe I'm going to be in Long Beach because my soul mate will be there. Then again, knowing my luck this year, my soul mate will be walking in one door as I walk out another and we'll never meet."
"Jeeez, where's all this melodrama comin' from all of a sudden, G?" Nick asked, puzzled by his buddy's spiral into seriousness. "I was kiddin' about the late afternoon booty call break on the schedule. Don't get all worked up. Honestly, I think your problem is, you've gone so long without action that the prospect has you freaked. Did you have like a really horrible experience? Did someone burn you that bad in a relationship? If that's the case, then you shouldn't have waited to bounce back into bed. It's like the old ridin' a bike saying…if you wait too long after a bad fall to get back on, you'll get to scared to try it. Is that what's goin' on with you?"
"I really don't want to talk about it," Greg snipped, once again feeling ridiculous for thinking anything would ever happen between them.
"That's a yes."
"Yes, okay, I've been burned twice, not counting the time when Catherine blew up the lab. Happy? I'm hard up, because love has done nothing but bite me in the ass, and I'm gun shy. Now can we please change the subject?"
Ignoring his buddy's wish, Nick moved to work next to his pal and forged on, "Like I told your dad, I think of you as my best friend, you can tell me. Maybe I can help you…"
"How?" Greg scoffed at the offer. "I wouldn't go to a monk for sex tips, and I'm sure as hell not asking you for advice on committed relationships. When was the last time you had a serious relationship, dude? Huh? Would the answer be never?"
"That depends on your definition of serious."
"Have you ever told someone you love them?"
"Does my mom count?" Nick answered, trying to lighten the mood.
"Not unless your name is Oedipus." Greg returned to shaking his head and muttering. "Be honest, what's the longest relationship you've ever had? A three day weekend? Or did the planets align in the late 90s and you managed to spend a whole week with the same person."
"No, I've had a much longer relationship than that." Nick chuckled his smart ass reply, "I've loved my mama for thirty six years now."
"Okay, Oedipus, take your squick elsewhere." Greg gave him a shove to confirm his request. "Go! Find your own mud hole."
Not moving, Nick laughingly advised, "You need to get back on the bike, G."
"And you need to stop screwing every slut who will let you."
"Why?" Nick howled with laughter in the moonlight. "They're hard up and I've got a hard on. It's a win-win situation as far as I can tell. What's the problem?"
"The problem is…" Greg caught himself.
"What?"
"Nothing." Greg's nerves built into a laugh that popped from his mouth. "This is exactly the same fight we had three weeks ago."
"Yeah, why is that?" Nick tried to figure it out.
"If you don't know…"
"Enough with the cryptic shit, just say what's on your mind." Nick elbowed his pal. "I promise I won't get mad."
"I think you would."
"Wouldya just tell me already!" Using two hands Nick gave him a shove.
When Greg flopped onto his back in the mud, he yelled, "Nice going! I'm covered in sludge!"
"Sorry! I didn't mean to shove you that hard, G." Nick stood and offered his hand. "Let me help you up."
"Thanks. I'm kind of…" But when Nick leaned forward, Greg used his leg to knock his buddy off balance and send him crashing down to the ground. "HA! I've seen that in the movies. I can't believe it really works."
"You bastard! I can't believe you did that when I was tryin' to help you!"
They sat up at the same time, wiping mud from their faces.
"Are you okay?" Greg asked, feeling guilty when he realized the stunt could have resulted in an injury.
"Yeah, just my ego's bruised," Nick groaned while flicking mud from his hair. "That's like the oldest trick in the damn book. My brother used to do that to me when I was a kid. He'd pretend to get hurt and when I'd run over to help him, he'd take my hand and whip me through the air." Locking eyes with his buddy, Nick huffed, "I can't believe I didn't see that comin'."
His gaze locked on his clueless pal's, Greg quietly replied, "I can, because you don't read me very well." Suddenly feeling something in his eye, he started blinking.
"What's wrong?"
"I got something…I think it's gone under the lid."
Nick tugged off his gloves. "Hold still."
Greg froze as his secret crush moved in close and tugged up his eye lid. "Do you see something?" His heart raced from the proximity of Nick's parted lips. "Uh…"
"Shh, don't move."
When Greg breathed in the scent of Nick's cinnamon chewing gum, a spark of excitement surged through his body.
"There." Nick showed the speck on his finger tip. "Hopefully it didn't scratch your eye up. I had that happen to me once, it hurts like hell." The puzzling look on his buddy's face worrying him, he tapped Greg's cheek. "You okay?"
"You really don't know, do you?" Greg managed to cryptically squeak.
"Know what?"
With Nick's face only inches away, he couldn't tell if his friend's next move would be a kiss or a punch, but he was tired of waiting. "I…I'm done wondering, so um… I'm just going to…"
"Hey!" Nick tracked his dropped flashlight's beam. "Are you…" The fresh angle made all the difference. "I think you're right, everything happens for a reason, even fallin' in the mud."
"Now you're getting it, okay." Greg anxiously chuckled when Nick sat back on his heels in shock, "Honestly, how could you not when…"
"No shit." Nick scrambled to his feet. "It's only fifty yards away." Grabbing the flashlight, he rushed over to the woman's body stuck in the reeds. "Call in a 419, G! And grab your camera!"
"Uh…" When he finally caught up, Greg jumped into action. "Got it!"
"I've got something!" Sara rushed into the living room as her man was heading for the front door with his luggage. "Something for your bedside table." She presented the 4x6 photo they had snapped of themselves one night after sharing some wine and feeling silly. "You said you wished you had a picture to bring with you. I remembered that we took a few."
"I love it, it looks like one those pictures taken in a photo booth." Gil gazed at their smiling faces pressed together side-by-side. "Thank you." He snatched the snapshot and placed it securely in his briefcase. "I promise, unlike when I was on S, I'll call you every day."
"You don't have to do that." Sara stole one last kiss. "But if you want to, then go ahead." Seeing Nick's truck pull up out front, she sighed, "Your co-presenter is here." She knew the plan was for Nick to drop off Greg, who would be riding to Long Beach with Grissom. "Good luck."
"With the conference or surviving four hours in the car with Greg bouncing off the walls and begging to change the radio station?"
"Both." She playfully smacked her man's ass. "Go before they ring the bell."
Grissom walked to the door without looking back.
"Stay away from the groupies!" she warned as he turned the knob. "I used to be one, so I know what they're thinking! They'll be so impressed with your brain, they'll want in your pants!"
He opened the door smirking.
"Remember what I told you, G," Nick reminded his buddy when he parked the truck in front of Grissom's townhouse. "If you freeze up at the lecture podium, just picture everyone in their underwear." Glancing over, he saw Greg was a bundle of nerves. "It'll all work out just fine, you'll see."
"Yeah." Opening the door, Greg replied, "I just need a little time to clear my head." After the near-confession the previous night, he was still unnerved and more confused than ever.
Nick popped the hatch and got out of the truck.
"Ready for our adventure, Charlie Bucket?" Grissom greeted his protégé.
"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to getting away for a while."
Grissom smiled, happy to know his co-presenter was eager. "Have you double-checked your list and…"
"He's got everything and he's gonna do great," Nick confirmed when he arrived at the back of the truck. "Don't worry about Greggo, he's got it goin' on."
"My trunk's open." Gil pointed. "I can't help you lift anything, sorry."
"No, problem, I've got it." Nick grabbed Greg's garment bag and boxes while his buddy grabbed his suitcase and lap top case
Gil glanced up at his living room window and saw two eyes peeking from the blinds. After checking to see the coast was clear, he blew a kiss and then strolled to his car wearing a dopey grin. Loving every minute of the romantic sappiness, he silently rejoiced, I've got a girlfriend!
"That's everything," Nick affirmed when he shut Grissom's trunk.
"Let's hit the road!" Gil rubbed his hands together. "My roaches are ready to run."
"Geek fest," Nick coughed into his fist.
Opening the driver's door, Gil droned, "I heard that, Stokes."
"Sorry, Griss, but it's true."
Rolling his eyes, Gil slipped behind the wheel. "Don't just stand there, get in the car, Greg, or I'm leaving you behind."
"Don't! I can't wait to get out of town," Greg remarked while looking directly at his housemate. "I really need a break."
"I'll try not to take that personally," Nick chuckled while feeling strangely concerned by the comment. "Good luck, buddy." He stepped forward with open arms and pulled Greg in for a bear hug. "You're gonna do great."
Greg thought about not returning the hug, but it felt too good to pass up. "Thanks." He wrapped his arms around Nick, returning the seemingly platonic affection.
When the embrace was returned, Nick breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sure those guys will agree to publish your paper. You've been workin' so hard on it, how could they not, right?"
"I…I don't know." His body pressed against the man of his fantasies, Greg could barely form words.
"I do." Nick closed his eyes and strengthened his grip. "I've read your paper, it's great."
"That really means a lot…thanks." With his eyes clamped shut, it was easy to pretend there was more to Nick's touch than just a friendly hug. "Don't take what I said about wanting to get out of town personally." Squeezing tighter, Greg breathed deep and filled his nose with the familiar scents of Nick's soap and after shave, already missing them and him. "I…I'm a little out of it, I'm sorry."
"It's alright, it's alright." He pulled in a choppy breath. "Lately I'm…I'm feelin' a little off myself." Suddenly aware of how long he had been holding his friend, Nick abruptly ended the hug. "Uh…" After a few awkward moments of silence, he said, "Call me, okay. Because I want to…because you know I'll want to hear about all the action comin' your way."
"Right." When Greg saw how affected Nick was he knew something was there. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't know what to say. Banking that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, he took a deep breath and backed away. "I'll see you next week, Cletus."
"Yeah." Nick raised his right hand as he walked backwards. "Bye."
"Bye."
Leaning over to clear the passenger seat, Gil had been drawn to watch the two men through the passenger side mirror. "Wow." Catching the black writing on the bottom of the glass, he shook his head. 'Warning – Objects in Mirror Are Closer than They Appear.' No kidding, their goodbye seems a hell of a lot more erotic than mine and Sara's. The ring of his cell phone startled him. "Grissom." When he heard his girlfriend yell 'Are you watching the boys say goodbye? I'm watching from the window' he whispered, "Nick's eyes were closed, could you see Greg's?" When she informed him they were closed too, he chuckled, "Looks like Catherine is right, but let's not tell her. Got to go."
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Greg breathlessly announced when he dropped onto the passenger seat.
"It's okay. I had a phone call." Gil glanced over, noting the flush on his co-worker's cheeks. "Ready?"
"So ready," Greg sweetly laughed while buckling up for the ride and watching Nick walk away. It's the wait that's killing me.
***
Chapter 17: Pillow Talk"This place is great," Greg enthusiastically told his boss as they walked the path to their rooms at The Coast Hotel in Long Beach. "We're right on the bay, the city lights are awesome and I love how the bridge is illuminated with colors like that, isn't it cool? I think it's really cool." He pointed to the old ship in the distance. "Have you ever been on the Queen Mary? I have a bunch of times. My dad keeps his boat in Santa Monica and when I was a kid, we'd sail here to go to the aquarium and then we'd head out to Catalina Island. Have you been to the aquarium? It's great. What about Catalina Island? I love that place, haven't been there in years though, have you? I really miss California," he sighed, "I don't know that I miss it until I'm here and then I miss it. What about you? Because I…"
"Stop talking!" Gil ordered, counting the seconds until he was away from his yammering employee. "How can I possibly answer your questions if you keep talking? You've been talking ninety miles an hour since we left Vegas. That's over four hours of non-stop talking. I went to the McDonalds Drive-Thru and bought you a ton of food hoping that it would shut you up, but you even talked with your mouth full. I honestly think you spoken more since we started this journey than I do in an average week."
"Sorry." Greg gulped a hefty dose of salt-scented air and explained, "I overtalk when I'm really excited or nervous, and I'm both, excited and nervous…big time."
"What are you excited and nervous about exactly?" Gil curiously queried, while certain he wouldn't get an honest answer.
"Duh, our meeting with the editors of The National Criminology Journal tomorrow to see what they thought of my submission; and I'm excited and nervous about the conference starting tomorrow evening and then presenting for the first time the day after that, and besides all that, I have some personal stuff going on. I'm waiting for my Dad to call and say everything is finalized with Jenni's guardianship, because it means a lot to my mom and besides that…" I'm in love! His whole face spread into a smile, "I really can't say."
Good, because I really don't want you to tell me you're crazy about Nick. "Good night." Gil resumed walking for his room.
"Good night? Wait!" Greg chased after him down the path. "Aren't we going to grab some dinner?"
"I'm grabbing it off my room service menu and then passing out." Gil reminded the hyper lovestruck nutjob, "Normally we would just be waking up, remember? But we're adjusting to a daytime schedule. That means I'm eating dinner and going to bed by ten p.m."
"Oh." Greg's excitement faded. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I'll um…see you in the morning then. Nine a.m. in the lobby sound good?"
Feeling like he just kicked a puppy, Gil caved, "Fine. Just give me an hour to shower and catch up with voicemail and email, and then we'll go out for dinner."
"Really?" Greg lit up, thrilled that he wouldn't have to eat alone. "Great!"
"You wouldn't happen to have a tranquilizer of some sort with you, would you?"
"Actually, yeah, I do. I brought some Valium with me just in case I have trouble sleeping because of the abrupt schedule change."
"Good, take one as soon as you get to your room and by the time we get to the restaurant you should be mellow enough to let me get a word in edgewise."
"Okay," Greg laughed as he walked next to his crusty boss. "Here's my room." He pointed.
"Yes, and I'm right next door, so please don't blast your TV."
"No problem, Dad,"
"I'll meet you in the lobby at seven-thirty," Gil droned, already regretting his pity offer to have dinner together. "Don't forget the Valium."
"I promise to do drugs, Dad!" Greg laughed his way into the room. "Ooh, this is nice." His luggage had already been brought up by the bellman and he promptly retrieved his pill bottle from his toiletry bag. "One chill pill down the hatch." He cracked open a bottle of water from the mini bar and swallowed the tablet. "Bed looks comfy." He dropped onto it. "Mmm, yeah." He crashed back against the pillows and pondered Nick's hug for the hundredth time. It was definitely more than just a hug. It wasn't my imagination. I don't care if he hugs people all the time, he doesn't hug them like that! That hug went into overtime and there was extra squeezing. Why do I keep calling it a hug anyway? It wasn't a hug, it was an embrace…a lingering embrace actually, because he didn't want to let go. And when he did let go, the look on his face…priceless! It was so totally more than just a hug, that's why he looked so unnerved. It's starting to hit him. That glass house of denial he's been living in for decades is starting to crack, and when it finally shatters, I'll be right there to help him pick up the pieces and deal with the drama that I'm sure there's going to be, because a guy that repressed…it won't be pretty, and he's not even a calm guy to begin with, he's emotional and has exploded under pressure on more than a few occasions.
Lunging for TV remote on the nightstand, he saw the phone. No! I can't call, he'll still be sleeping. But he said I could call any time if I was nervous. But it's not a presentation day, you don't have anything to be nervous about. Right, right. He grabbed the remote. And he can't miss me if I call right away. He needs to miss me and wonder why he misses me, which will put a few more cracks in the glass. So, no calling! None! Zip! Zero! No calling! Until tomorrow anyway, and technically tomorrow begins at midnight, and that's the start of shift, so I can very legitimately call to follow up on the Jane Doe from the lake. Cool.
Just as the calling plan was finalized, Greg's cell phone rang. After pulling it from his pocket, he flipped it open and saw it was Nick calling. "Ha!" He pressed the send button to answer. "Miss me already, Cletus?"
"No," Nick chuckled in reply, "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to pay bills and balance my checking account. I wanted to let you know that the friggin' cable company raised their broadband rates again, so it's gonna be an extra ten bucks starting next month."
Greg stared at the phone as he laughed into his palm. That is the lamest reason to call me! Really, you couldn't come up with something better than that? "So I don't have to include the extra cash in my utilities check to you until next month, right?"
"Right."
"So why did you have to call me right now to tell me? You could have waited and told me when I got back next week."
After a long pause Nick answered, "Hey, how's the weather out there? I bet it's kinda chilly once the sun goes down, huh?"
So busted! "Yeah." Greg rolled onto his side. "Sweater weather." Good for snuggling and speaking of snuggling…maybe we should talk about that hug today, huh? What was that about? "Good thing I packed warm clothes."
Nick chuckled, "Yeah, I noticed your favorite Aggie sweatshirt was gone from its hook by the front door."
"I'm wearing it right now as a matter of fact. It looks good with the new pair of jeans my mom gave me this week." And really shouldn't the fact that I wear your sweatshirt all the time be a HUGE clue? The fact that you like me wearing it certainly is. It's a subconscious show of possession before you can consciously admit you want me to be yours. "Now that we've established what I'm wearing, what are you wearing, Cletus?" he joked. "Just kidding."
"Yeah, I was gonna say, good thing no one is listenin', because they'd think we're havin' phone sex."
"I'm sure that's what Grissom is doing next door with Sara. He told me he needed an hour to make phone calls and shower."
Nick laughed, "Yeah, one phone call to Sara and then a shower to clean himself up after."
"Are you trying to make me nauseous before dinner?"
"Sorry." Nick asked, "On the drive over, did ya get any confirmation out of Griss about shacking up with Sara?"
"This place is great," Gil informed his lover as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. "I always stay here when I come to Long Beach. We should come here together. They have a wonderful aquarium."
"A real hotel in Long Beach and a nice aquarium sounds a hell of a lot better than our little stay at the no-tell motel in Kingman."
"Please don't remind me of that nightmare."
"How's your back after the drive?"
"Killing me. As soon as I got to my room, I stripped down to my boxers, popped a Percocet, and splayed myself over that massaging back pad my Physical Therapist recommended I bring. Hopefully I'll feel better in a half hour or so."
"Thanks for the visual," Sara chuckled, "but if that's your attempt at initiating phone sex, I have to tell you…it's not working."
After laughing with his lover, Gil admitted, "I've never had phone sex. Have you?"
"It's highly overrated."
"That's a yes." He immediately imagined Sara having hot and heavy phone love with a hunk twenty years his junior. "I won't bother trying to compete with the memory."
"Aww, I'm sure you'd be much better at it, for one…you have a very sexy phone voice."
"I do?" The fifty year old perked up. "I've always loved your phone voice, it's raspy yet smooth."
"We can't try it sober though." Sara teased, "How about on the third night, once we've gotten good and lonely, you have a few cocktails during the pre-dinner break and come back to your room. I'll drink a few beers waiting for you to call, and then we'll give it a shot."
"I was always under the impression that phone sex had to be spontaneous. I thought it was about two people who miss each other calling to talk and the conversation becomes playful and then takes a decidedly sexual turn that leads to one or both of them engaging in self-gratification while pretending it's really the other person doing it to them?"
"Wow. That's the most clinical description of phone sex I've ever heard."
"But is it right?"
"Put a glass up to the wall and see if that's how it's working next door."
"Griss picked the hotel, so I was worried," Greg informed his housemate while rolling onto his back with his cell phone pressed to his ear. "But it has a great view of the bay, and the bed is super comfortable."
"I hate when I go somewhere and find out I'll be sleepin' on a bed of nails, or if their pillows and comforter is crap, that's the worst."
"It must be harder for you to stay in hotels, because you have all that super-deluxe bedding at home." Greg knew Nick's mother had spent a fortune on high quality stuff when Nick couldn't sleep after the abduction. "I can't even see you when you're sleeping, it's like you're buried in clouds."
"Yep, I'm there right now and it's heaven."
"I thought you were in your home office paying bills?" Greg probed. So busted!
"That was like twenty minutes ago, G. I finished my banking and crawled back into bed about around the time you were talkin' about The Queen Mary and your family trips to Catalina Island. You're like the only person I know who is talkative after taking a Valium."
"Doh! I had no idea I was boring you to tears for that long, sorry."
"I don't mind, really. You're a good storyteller, and a good salesman, because after listenin' to you, I really want to take a boat to Catalina Island."
"We could go," Greg merrily replied as the Valium kicked in, "I can borrow my dad's boat anytime, I usually take her out whenever I visit."
"Seriously? I had no idea you had access to a boat. "
"She's totally tricked out too," Greg stared at the ceiling, visualizing the trip. "On the island, I could take you on my favorite hike, show you the botanical gardens and the bison."
"I love hiking, don't get to do it nearly enough. What about mountain bikes?"
"Yeah, they rent them."
"Sweet."
"There's a restaurant that I know you'd love. They have a huge patio outside so you can dine al fresco. They have a Surf and Turf that melts in your mouth. It's a filet with four jumbo shrimp on top and they drizzle Beurre Blanc over it."
"Mmm…you're making me want it right now."
"Am I?" The Valium seeping into his voice, Greg dreamily asked, "You wanna go to Catalina Island with me, Cletus?"
"Yes," Nick answered without hesitation.
Stunned by the reply, Greg bolted up in bed. "Really?" He clutched a pillow for support.
"Yeah, the sooner the better, G, because I could really use a little time away from this messed up city and the people in it. I think livin' here is killin' me a little more every day."
"Great, um…my dad will be flexible on the boat, so we don't have to worry about that."
"Okay, cool, I'll take a look at the schedule when I go in tonight and see about makin' trades to free us up. I'm excited, this will…"
"Wait…wait…wait." Certain it was too good to be true, Greg warily asked, "Are you excited about this trip because you're planning on stowing babes on board to surprise me? Because this isn't a booty call boat, it's my family's and I won't be amused if you bring some trampy…"
"No girls allowed."
Greg gripped the phone tighter. "Really?"
"Yeah, I want to relax and be myself, not worry about entertainin' a stranger I have nothin' in common with. I want to be comfortable, and lately I only feel comfortable with…it's like you're the only person who…" After a long pause, Nick quietly said, "I just want to be with you."
While strangling an innocent bed pillow, Greg stammered, "Um…can you…I just want be really clear here…when you say you want to be with me, do you mean on Catalina Island, or do you want to be with me, as in…"
"I have to go," Nick abruptly announced.
"No! Wait!" Greg panicked, fearing his buddy misunderstood and thought he was disgusted by the thought. "It's okay! Really it's more than okay, way more, it's what I…"
"I have to go."
"No, no don't!" Greg rejoiced, "I've been waiting for..."
"Shut your friggin' mouth, Sanders!" Nick snapped, "I don't want to hear it! Just stop talking! Stop! Jesus Christ…I said I have to go. Which part of I have to go don't you understand?"
Feeling terrible for pushing, Greg frantically apologized, "I'm sorry, I heard you the first time and you're right, I should have listened. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I won't say anything. If you want to talk again, call me back, but if you don't, that's cool, I won't call you, okay? I promise. Will that work? Is that okay? Are we good?" According to his cell, the call was still active, so he waited. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Nick finally replied in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry for yelllin', I just really have to go."
"I understand, I do, really I do. Go."
"Bye."
"Bye," Greg replied after the abrupt click. Oh…my…God.
Nick's cell phone slipped from his hands as he rushed for the bathroom. "Noooo," he moaned, clutching his forehead. "Noooo." Gasping for air, he dropped to his knees and vomited into the toilet bowl. Luckily, with his stomach in knots for the last twelve hours, he hadn't been able to eat much.
Once the guilt-induced purge was over, he fell back and sat against the wall. It felt like a dream. Was it? Maybe everything was. Did that conversation even just happen? Had he really just agreed to run off to Catalina Island with Greg? Did he really even hug his best friend that morning like he was going off to war? Had he honestly felt the urge to kiss his buddy as they sat in the mud at Lake Mead the previous night with mouths only inches apart? Did he really secretly brush his housemate's cheek while he slept on the couch the other day, and did his whole body really ignite? Had he truly awakened in a sweat a half hour ago from a dream about falling into bed with a man? Had he really uttered those sappy words to Greg? I just want to be with you. Did he only want to be with Greg? Did he mean just on Catalina Island? Or as a couple too? As lovers? As life partners with two kids and a retriever?
When he realized the answer to every question posed was yes, tears spilled from his eyes. "No."
All those years of hiding, lying and suppressing, all that work. Useless! He had managed to keep the urge under control for thirty-five years, never once slipping, never once acting on a forbidden desire. But suddenly it felt like he was on a sinking ship, and the faster he bailed out the water, the quicker more poured in. "No, no, no."
It was supposed to be easier once Greg left that afternoon. The next five days were supposed to be a reprieve, but as soon as he said goodbye in Grissom's driveway, everything got substantially worse, not better. "I can't believe I sniffed his freakin' pillow!" And now that he thought about it, he had the overwhelming urge to do it again. "Shit!"
On his way to Greg's room, he considered detouring and knocking on his neighbor Tisha's door, because maybe it would only take one more woman to tip the scales. Standing in the hallway he laughed at the idea of a washed up showgirl being able to accomplish what a thousand other women couldn't and marched straight into his gay buddy's room.
Dropping onto Greg's bed, he buried his head in the pillow and cried, "I can't." He thought of the ultimate price he'd have to pay if his secret ever got out…the loss of his family. There was no need to guess about where they stood on the issue. He had heard the jokes and stories his family members told, the derogatory words and names they called gay men who were in their Dallas political and legal circles. His sisters would be disappointed and distant, but he knew his brother would stop speaking to him, and as much as he hated the prick, he didn't want to lose him forever. His mother would never be able to hold him or look him in the eyes again, and he knew Judge Stokes would declare him guilty of a mortal sin and ask him to leave the place he had called home for eighteen years and never come back. No, he couldn't hurt them that way, because nothing was stronger than his love for his family. Nothing!
Except the smell of Greg's pillow, which he compulsively kept sniffing in between sobs.
"No," he continued to repeat like a mantra, wishing it was really how he felt. Since he was thirteen he had been praying for his aching heart and starving body to stop craving what it shouldn't want. But no amount of prayer, wishful thinking, hot dates with loose women, or hardcore hetero sex made a difference. Nothing!
But at the moment, the smell of Greg's pillow was rocking his world.
"No!" He pulled his face away from the heavenly rectangle of down feathers and shook his head. It was hopeless. He had been earnestly trying to make the feelings go away since puberty, ever since he caught himself staring at Bobby Millhouse in the locker room and fantasized about going to Second Base. But try as he might to eradicate the twisted primal urge that made him sick to his stomach, it was still there.
And so was Greg's pillow, so he took one more sniff.
"No, no, no." Glancing down he saw the evidence of his arousal and knew…he liked boys, and that was never going to change. It didn't matter that he wanted to be normal, or that it would be easier, or safer, or that it would save him from the dreaded eternal hellfire that Pastor Sweeny had lectured him about in Sunday School, or keep him from losing his family. He couldn't make it go away. It lingered.
Like the decadent aroma of Greg's pillow in his nostrils.
"No!" He carefully placed the pillow back in its proper spot, so he wouldn't get busted. "Like he doesn't know?" he snarked at himself. "I just friggin' agreed to dine under the stars on Catalina Island with him for pete's sake! He's probably online pickin' a china pattern while his mother is out interviewin' surrogates!" The jig was up. Way up.
And so was a certain piece of his anatomy. "Dammit!" he barked upon seeing the bulge in his boxers. The last pillow sniff had proven to be too much. "This is really the last thing I needed to deal with right now." As Grissom would say – the evidence never lies, and this piece of evidence was rearing its ugly head all too often lately. He thought of Greg constantly, and not in ways he'd be comfortable discussing in mixed company, or anyone's company. He couldn't even discuss it with himself, because all the things he wanted to do with his good buddy were taboo, wrong, forbidden, abnormal, messed up, unnatural, sinful, gross, and/or squicky!
Just like the urge to keep sniffing Greg's pillow for example. Which he suddenly felt compelled to do just one more time.
"No!" He successfully thwarted the sniff by retreating into the closet. It wasn't a planned move, and once there he couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "I'm hiding in the closet." Just like that his tears were back. He had been hiding in the closet his whole life and he wasn't going to let Greg push him out without a fight. "Damn you, Sanders! I never should have invited you in!"
Leaving the closet, he went to the bathroom determined to push past the feelings swamping him. He turned on the faucet, certain that a few cold splashes of water would cleanse him and renew his willpower. "Better already." He reached for a hand towel and dried his face. "Much better." Looking into the mirror at his reflection, which seemed to be laughing its ass off at him, he heard his subconscious say Catalina Island is lovely this time of year, you really should go have some fun. Come on, you deserve a break, Nicky, you've been working far too hard. Go see the botanical gardens, ride that mountain bike you asked Greg about, eat some of the yummy shrimp covered in Beurre Blanc, and then when the sun goes down…rip that Aggie sweatshirt off your little buddy's body and jump his bones like you've been dying to do for years, because you are gay! Say it with me…gay! Tex, you're so gay you could play the cowboy in the Village People. G-A-Y gay!"
"No!" He dashed out of the room, no longer on speaking terms with his subconscious. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe Greg didn't suspect a thing.
"He wants me!" Greg excitedly told his mother as he thrashed on his bed. "Just me! His exact words were...I just want to be with you."
"Oh!" Jan shrieked. "Oh my God! Hold on, let me get your father to pick up on the extension. Dave! Dave! Pick up the phone, Nicky wants Greg!"
"Yeah." Completely absorbed in a fog of Valium and love, Greg dreamily repeated his mother's words, "Nicky wants Greg."
"Your father is coming, sweetheart."
"Uh." Staring at the wall behind him, Greg snickered, "From the sound of things, I'd say Grissom is too."
"Done," Gil panted into the phone when he regained speech and sight capabilities. "Oh God, that was…so good."
Sara purred in reply, "Mmm, my thoughts exactly. Your scientific definition of phone love was spot on, Mr. Wizard, and I do believe that spontaneity is the key ingredient. The other time I tried it with the loser who shall remain nameless, it wasn't nearly as good. This was hot. Red hot."
"Let's hear it for aural stimulation," the fifty year old scientist sighed. "It's comforting to know that I can turn you on with words since my body is falling apart."
"Aww."
Keep it down in there, you pervert!
Gil glanced at the wall behind him. "Greg heard me."
"Eww!"
Wearing a mile-wide grin, Gil replied, "Yes, how appalling." Ha! Take that, young Sanders! I've still got it.
***
Chapter 18: The EX Factor"Jeez, who peed in your Cheerios?" Catherine asked Nick after he blasted a cop at the tape. They were only an hour into their shift and she could tell it was going to be a long night.
"Aren't you sick and tired of those clowns not doin' their jobs?" he grumbled while marching towards the two-story home they had been sent to process. "The guy was standin' right there as a reporter ducked under the tape for pictures."
"He's an overwhelmed rookie, cut him some slack."
"Yeah, well…when you get nabbed at the scene because a cop takes a break, your tolerance for screw ups goes way down. Lettin' people under the tape, walkin' off when they're supposed to be watchin' our backs, not clearin' a scene properly. Forget what happened to me, a recent one is the showgirl murder scene. Sara found a dancer alive under a bed. Instead of a dyin' girl, it could have been the killer and Sara could be dead right now. And what about the time the cops didn't check the basement in little Cassie's home? Luckily it was filled with marijuana plants and not killers or bombs since they had given us the all-clear. That shit pisses me off and it should piss you off too. Lindsay doesn't need to lose her mother because some cops are too lazy to do their jobs."
Catherine smiled at her tense co-worker, "How long will Greg be gone?"
The mention of his buddy's name rattled him. "Five days starting today, why?"
She winked, "I wanted to know how long it would be until your good mood returns."
"Hey, did you see some action yesterday, Willows?" he deflected, forcing a laugh from his mouth. "Because you're in a very relaxed and happy mood today."
"Got all the way to second base," she snickered while tugging on booties outside the home's front door. "It was hot. Stopping at second made me feel sixteen again." When she saw Nick's look of disbelief, she corrected, "Okay, okay, fourteen."
"That I'd believe."
Since they had a track record for speaking frankly over the years, she shared, "Surely you remember the feeling, Nicky. Parents out for the night and you're on the living room couch watching a thriller movie in the dark with the one you love."
"Yeah."
"Good times, huh?" Alone on the dark front porch, Catherine decided to put Nick's sexuality to the test with an arousing tale, "We'd always start off sitting next to each other on the couch and a few minutes into the movie, the boy would pull me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. We'd gradually sink into the cushions until we were horizontal, watching the movie like two spoons. A few minutes of close contact and the boy would start to squirm. He'd rock his hips forward, I'd push my booty backwards, and once we found our rhythm, we'd grind ourselves into a frenzy." Cutely wrinkling her nose, she said, "I was a terrible tease, so I'd let him knock on my backdoor for a while, before turning around with a naughty grin. That's when the kissing would start…frantic, sloppy smooches reluctantly interrupted by gasps for air. In the breathy voice of a virgin I'd eventually say, 'I don't go all the way'. The guy would be bummed and suggest 'We can use our mouths.' Not ready to take that step, I'd reply 'Just hands.' The next sixty seconds would be a blur of tossed shirts, popped buttons, quick zip downs, and flying underwear." Fanning herself, Catherine nostalgically sighed, "A few minutes later we'd be panting in each other's faces, sweaty from the rush of our bodies going over the edge in perfect harmony."
Nick gulped while desperately trying to block the sinful fantasy of sitting next to Greg on the couch and ending up in mutual ecstasy. Never before had he been so incapable of ridding his mind of forbidden desires. Only Greg had been able to penetrate his conscious and stake a claim.
Chuckling she added, "If a guy handed me his t-shirt to clean my hand, I went out with him again, if not…he became my ex-boyfriend."
"That's um…quite an interesting boyfriend test," he said while laughing at the memory of refusing to let a girl use his Aggie t-shirt.
Tapping her friend's face with her palm, Catherine sweetly said, "We grow up and forget all that horny teenage fun. We start thinking of full-on sex as the be all end all, but a good tease on the couch followed by hot and heavy petting really rocks your world when you're with the right person. I'm done with one night stands." Winding up drugged and almost raped helped me come to that decision. "I'm going to try dating the way I always wished I had...taking it one step at a time with a decent guy, hoping for a slow burn to something special." And it doesn't get more special than Warrick Brown. She could still taste the goodbye kiss he had given her when he left the couch the previous night,
"A slow burn to somethin' special," Nick parroted. "I like the sound of that." It felt like what had been happening between him and Greg until last night when his impatient buddy pushed him out of his comfort zone instead of letting things continue at a snail's pace. He had almost called back a dozen times since abruptly ending their phone call. He knew Greg was under a lot of stress because of his paper, and the presentation, and he felt terrible for adding to his burden. Now that his shock over saying yes to Catalina Island had died down along with his nausea, all he could think about was Greg's frantic apology at the end of the call and the vulnerability in his voice. Above anything else, he knew his buddy was just trying to be a caring, supportive friend. That's it, I'm callin'. After checking his watch, he realized it was too late now. He has a big day tomorrow. He needs his rest. That Valium probably kicked in soon after we hung up. I'll wait 'til tomorrow and call to wish him good luck before his meeting.
"Nicky!" Catherine snapped her fingers in front of her daydreaming co-worker's face. "I wanted to give you a pleasant fantasy to escape into while we're inside scraping up brain matter, not lose you to a daydream."
"Is that why you said all that?" Already tortured by an ungodly backlog of unfilled fantasies, the repressed man sucked in a dose of night air and droned, "Thanks a lot."
"Someone sure needs a little Snap, Crackle and Pop in their cereal bowl this morning," Greg announced when Grissom trudged out of his hotel room and slammed the door. "Are you always this grumpy when you start your day?" Poor Sara, but that's what she gets for not picking Greg Sunshine Sanders. Her loss will be Nick's gain one day…hopefully…if he's still talking to me. God, I'm such an idiot! He checked his watch. Wow, I went two whole minutes without obsessing over my stupidity, that's an improvement. He decided to lift his spirits by tweaking his boss, "So, uh…why so glum, chum? From the sounds coming from your room last night, I was sure you'd be happy this morning. What happened? Did you lose the phone number for the Hot Babe Hotline, or did your Pay-Per-View Porn end prematurely?"
"None of the above, smart ass. Our best racer went belly up last night."
The jokester's heart skipped a beat. "Not Melvin I hope."
"No, Carl." Grissom lamented, "He was our best shot at a blue ribbon."
Greg breathed a sigh of relief. "I think you're underestimating Melvin's ability. He's been pacing himself, saving his best race for when it counts, you'll see."
Walking from their remote building toward the hotel's main area, Grissom huffed, "You have no idea how humiliating it is to get your ass kicked at one of these races. They specifically hold them on the first night, just so the winner can enjoy bragging rights the rest of week. Remember, Greg…most of us geeks don't have sports victories in our past, so we're living vicariously through our Gromphadorhina Portentosa. "
"Believe in Melvin, Griss. I'm choosing to be optimistic," Greg encouraged, trying his new mantra on for size, "I know it's gonna happen for us." So what if Nick hasn't called back in over fourteen hours. That's not necessarily a bad sign. He's probably just swamped at work. Walking to breakfast with his roach grieving boss, he resumed silently cursing himself for pushing the issue last night. But more likely, he's avoiding me. Dammit! If I only hadn't probed after he said he wanted to be with me. He wasn't ready to talk that openly. I knew that, but I still had to open my big fat mouth and scare the crap out of him. I talked past the close of the deal! Good thing I'm a scientist instead of a salesman. Ugh, if only I could take back those words.
Walking down the path from Building C, Grissom saw the first of many conference colleagues, his archrival Ben Casteel, a prominent Entomologist from Los Angeles. Ugh, if I have to hear that asshole bragging about his guest appearances on Court TV and his blue ribbon roaches for days, I'll wish I had gone deaf. Why'd you have to die, Carl? Why?
Why did I have to push? Watching a happy couple stroll by the water's edge holding hands, Greg's stomach knotted. Nick's probably freaked out thinking I asked him to go to Catalina Island so we could screw 24/7. He probably thinks I'll try to jump his bones every time he sits on the couch to enjoy a ball game now. This is why we need to talk! I want to tell him I understand this is a huge deal for him, and assure him it's a huge deal for me too. I know we could work it out if we talked it over. But I can't call when I promised I wouldn't.
No way! Gil cringed when he saw his old flame, Dr. Lucy Wimberly, in the distance. It's nine a.m. and the day is already shit. He stealthily used Greg's body to shield him. I didn't know she was coming to this conference. Although they hadn't slept together in well over a decade and hadn't seen each other in three years, he still felt as angry. As livid as the day he walked into the hotel room they were sharing at the National Forensics Conference and found her on her knees pleasuring Arnie Linkbaum, Ph., he respected the woman as a leader in Forensic Anthropology, but personally, he believed she was a nasty, self-serving bitch. I should have brought Sara. Lucy's fifty and I'm sure as vain as ever. Imagine that preening bitch's reaction to seeing me with my girlfriend, a woman fourteen years her junior. She'd be livid, and maybe for once she'd stop looking down her nose at me. Maybe I should call Sara.
Checking the display of his cell for the hundredth time that morning, Greg spiraled deeper into despair. We were together for exactly seventeen seconds before I had to ask for clarification and ruin everything. God, I'm such a loser. He released a tortured groan. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost was a sadomasochist. I've been on the losing end three times and it sucks!
While hiding from Lucy, Gil noticed a man about a fifty yards away gaping at Greg. "Hey, do you know that man over there in the light blue polo shirt and khakis?" When he didn't get an answer, Gil gave his employee a shove. "Greg, I said, do you know that guy?"
"Huh?" Peeling his eyes off the happy couple taking pictures by the water, Greg asked, "What guy? Where?"
"Never mind, he just went into a building." Gil turned to see what was behind them. "It really looked like he was staring you down, but with the bay and the boats in back of us, I realize now he was probably looking at something else."
"Like when there's a clock over your head, but you think everyone is looking at you because you don't know it's there?"
"Exactly."
Greg sighed, "Or maybe the Clark County Greg Sanders Hate Club phoned a few friends in Long Beach when they heard I was coming to town."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." Seeing the fear building in his employee's eyes, Gil tried to help. "He was Caucasian if that helps you relax."
"It's sad and embarrassing to admit, but it does."
Grissom patted his anxiety-prone protégé on the back and decided to make his day a little sooner than expected. "You wanna know a secret?"
"Sure, why not?" Greg answered with the enthusiasm of a man about to have root canal.
"Your paper is being published."
"What?" Greg asked in confusion, "Seriously? How do you know?"
"I spoke with one of the editors last night. He said, quote 'it's the strongest submission we've received in a year' end quote." Gil cracked a proud smile. "Well done, Greg, you're published, and I'm very proud of you." The joy in the young man's eyes reminded him of the happiness he felt when he saw his name on a byline at age twenty-five. "We'll celebrate after you hear it officially, okay? How does a trip to the aquarium and lunch sound?"
"Cool! Yeah, I'd love that, thanks."
"I thought you might."
Greg's goofy joyful laugh attracted the attention of passersby. "I was about to hug you, but I know you hate PDAs."
Thinking back to the time spent in Greg's hospital room, Grissom replied, "You've had a rough year, so I'll make an exception." He allowed an embrace and responded with a fatherly pat. "I told you not to worry, didn't I?"
"Well if it isn't Dr. Gil Grissom!" Lucy Wimberly called out. "How the hell are you, Bugsy?"
"Bugsy?" Greg chuckled.
Damn. I forgot I was hiding from her. Gil stepped out of the hug to face the lying cheat. "I'm fantastic, Lucy, thank you for asking." The woman instantly brought out the worst in him, and forgetting Greg was there, he cockily replied, "Yes, professionally and personally, I'm at the top of my game. The lab is having a record year, and I'm in a wonderful relationship, with a young, vibrant, intellectual. Really, life couldn't be sweeter." And if you use your old nickname for me again, I may vomit.
"Good for you, Bugsy!" Lucy smiled at the grinning young man standing next to her ex-lover. "So, are you going to introduce me to your young, vibrant partner or do I have to guess his name?" Turning back to the quirky Entomologist, she snickered, "I always had my suspicions you were a closeted gay, Gil." And that you liked your lovers young, you cheeky bastard. "It certainly does explain away several of your bedroom predilections, especially your preference for my back door."
"Oh!" Stunned by the shocking overshare, Greg covered his ears. First I find out my parents are booty sex junkies and now Griss! Kinda ironic that the two gay guys on the team haven't indulged though. Ha!
While dying of embarrassment, Gil frantically explained, "This is my co-worker, not my partner. I was hugging him because he just found out his paper will be published. My young, vibrant, intellectual girlfriend isn't here with me, she's back in Vegas."
"Right…right, I'm sure she is," Lucy sarcastically replied. "Every time you come to one of these conferences you claim to have a special woman in your life, but no one has ever seen her, not even a photograph of her. We're Forensic Scientists, Gil, you know we require evidence. Go find yourself a beard like Charlie Thurgood."
Gil's mouth opened, but guilt seized his words. He really had been lying all the other times at all the other conferences, so he could understand where the skepticism over him really having a woman was coming from. And it wasn't like he could out his relationship with his employee anyway. Damn.
"I know his girlfriend," Greg informed the meanie who looked like a brunette version of Catherine. "And she is just as Grissom described: young, vibrant, and extremely intelligent. I've known her for seven years and she's a phenomenal catch."
"So you're not with Gil?" Lucy clarified, while eyeing up the young man like a juicy steak. Since she had already slept with all the palatable nerds at previous conferences, it was nice to know there was a fresh fish in the geek pool to hook up with, particularly one with a cute smile and big feet.
"No, I'm not with Grissom."
"And I don't see a ring on your finger, Mr…."
"Sanders, but how about you call me Greg and I'll call you Mrs. Robinson?"
Gil's jaw dropped.
Counting the seconds until she had the witty young man in her bed, Lucy flirtatiously replied, "Is that your indirect way asking me out to dinner tonight, Greg?
Greg sweetly laughed, "No, that was my way of saying I caught you checking out my package, and aren't I a little young for you?"
"I like them young, that's why I dumped Gil for a grad student when he couldn't keep up with me twelve years ago." Lucy ran her manicured nails over Greg's blushing cheek. "The answer is 'yes, I'd love to order room service with you'."
"Sorry, but you're not my type and I really don't think it's good to fish off the Forensics Conference pier anyway, thanks."
Enjoying the miffed look on Lucy's face, Gil slapped his soon to be promoted employee on the back. "No, thank you."
"Stokes!" Jim shouted to the man hurrying out of the LVPD building as he was approaching the entrance. "Just the man I wanted to see."
"Uh…" Clutching his cell phone, Nick anxiously said, "Can it wait, Jim?" He wanted to catch Greg before he went into his meeting with the editors. "I'm clocked out for the day."
"How are you doin'?" Jim asked the guy who looked ten seconds from a nervous breakdown. "Are you okay?"
"No, no I'm not okay." Shoving his cell in his jacket, Nick spoke with the weight of the world on his shoulders, "Cath and I just spent the last twelve hours working a triple homicide over in Summerlin." The heartbreaking scene still fresh in his head, he choked down his nausea. "A woman and her kids, ages four and seven, shot execution style. The ex-husband left a suicide note, but apparently chickened out and fled instead of pullin' the trigger. He went nuts because his ex-wife got a boyfriend. He decided to punish her by shootin' their kids while she watched. It's was a friggin' nightmare, Jim. I had to bag the little seven year old girl's pee-soaked pajama bottoms and blood covered teddy bear, so no, I'm not okay, not by a mile." After a sharp inhale, he shared, "She was duct-taped to a chair wide awake when her father pulled the trigger. That evil son of a bitch didn't even blindfold her. I've looked down the barrel of a gun twice, and it's scary as hell. I can't imagine what it would have been like to do it at seven when my daddy was holdin' it, so no…" He roughly cleared his throat. "I'm not okay."
Jim patted Nick's shoulder twice and quietly said, "Yeah, Sofia told me you were pretty vested in the case, so I was flagging you down to tell you we nabbed the husband at Starbucks and just brought him in. I'm handling the questioning and wanted to include you."
"Starbucks?" Nick brought his hands to his head, running them through his hair and he breathed though his disgust. "Starbucks, of course. Did he order a Latte or a Frappuccino? I'm just curious, you know? What does a guy order after blowin' off his kids' heads? Starbucks?"
When Nick started taking his aggression out on a Clark Country trash can, Jim lurched forward. "Hey! Stokes!" Watching the man kick the can loose from its bolted frame, he yelled, "Let's not put on a show for IAB, okay?" As the trash can sailed through the air, Jim grabbed his cell phone. "Nick!" He punched in Sara's speed dial code just as the can slammed against the brick building. "It's Jim," he anxiously greeted while rushing after Nick who was racing back into the building, presumably to find the murderous husband. "We have a situation."
"Sanders!"
Walking alone on the path to his hotel room after the publishing meeting, Greg whirled around to see who was calling his name. Nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing his old roommate walking toward him wearing a blue polo and khaki pants. "Jeff." He was the guy Grissom saw staring at me. "Wh…what are you…"
"I saw your name on the list of presenters," the thirty-three year old Tri-Athlete jogged over smiling. "All my co-workers kept asking why I was so excited to go to another Forensics conference." A nervous laugh tumbled from his lips. "I can't believe this day is finally here," he told his former best-friend who looked pale as a ghost. "I've been rehearsing this, but suddenly everything I planned to say is gone." He breathed deep. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you, because it was wrong, so wrong, and you…you were absolutely right about me." Shaking, he shared, "If I had been able to accept what you were telling me that day. Oh God, the lengths I've gone to …the lies, like my marriage…my poor kids. I wish I had listened to you. For so many reasons, I wish I could have heard you that day."
"You…" Greg gripped the back of a nearby bench to steady himself. "You really are…"
"Gay." Nerves produced a riotous laugh. "I can even say it now. Amazing, huh? I can actually say it out loud now. The look of surprise on your face is very similar to my wife's when I told her a few months ago." He stepped forward with tears in his eyes. "Please say you accept my apology, and please…" He reached out with a trembling hand. "Please say it's not too late for us to give it a shot."
"Uh…whoa. You mean you didn't just come here to apologize?" Greg asked, still off balance from all the other suprirses. "You want to…"
"Are you with anyone? The Alumni newsletter has never mentioned anything about you being…"
"You've been checking?"
Jeff laughed at himself. "My wife always wondered why I was crazed if that damn newsletter showed up late. Yes, I've been checking the newsletter! And Googling, and following everything you do." Brushing his hand over Greg's cheek, he softly said, "Hearing you almost died in that beating is what made me realize that life's too short. I'm so glad you're okay." He tenderly brushed back Greg's hair looking for scars.
Greg recoiled from his ex-love's touch. "My parents made sure I had the best plastic surgeon."
"Is there any permanent damage? Head injuries are tricky and…"
"I'm fine," Greg gulped down the lump in his throat.
"You're fine, thank God, you're fine." A smile of relief swept across Jeff's face. "If you had died without hearing my apology I don't know what I would have done. Please tell me you forgive me."
"I…I don't know."
"Then let's go somewhere a little more private to talk it out." Squeezing Greg's hand, he urged, "I'm holding your hand in public. Can you believe it? You should have seen me the first time I was with a guy. It was crazy, I was…"
"When was that?" Greg asked in shock, believing that his friend had come to take a critical first step.
"About three years ago," Jeff chuckled, "At one of these conferences actually. I went slumming with a Ballistics guy," he laughed, "My standards got higher as time went on."
"Three years ago?" Greg repeated in disbelief. "You were with a guy three years ago?"
In a hushed voice, the formerly repressed man confessed, "I don't know how it worked for you, but after suppressing the feelings for so long, once I got a taste, I was an animal. I went on dozens of business trips that first year," he chuckled. "I topped my way across country, even did a bartender in a frickin' bathroom stall. I was honing my skills for you, baby."
"You son of a bitch!" Greg shouted as his right hook landed firmly on Jeff's square jaw. "You knew I was right for three god damn years and didn't apologize? That means you didn't tell your wife for years either, so you're a cheat too! I don't believe you!" he screamed while shoving his stunned ex-friend. "No, I don't accept your horrifically tardy apology, you self-centered son of a bitch!"
"Look, I know you're upset," Jeff stated while rubbing his jaw, still shocked that his non-athletic ex-roommate could land such a solid punch.
"Upset? Upset doesn't begin to describe how I feel!" Greg raged. "I'm sure your wife would be able to empathize though."
"I can't believe you landed that punch."
Greg snarled, "I've had a really bad year and I am not the same wimpy guy who used to cook you breakfast, do your laundry, and kiss your ass hoping you'd give me the time of day! And yes it's too late for us, because I have much better taste in men now and I'm with someone spectacular! Someone who has more integrity in his pinky finger than you do in your entire body! And he's hot too! So, enjoy the conference and good luck with your train wreck of a life, asshole!" With that he stomped off, but about five yards into his march, he turned around, "Hey! Have you ever had a paper published in a science journal?"
"Uh…no," Jeff answered the unexpected question.
"Well I have! Ha!"
"God, you're such a queen, Sanders!" The jock laughed, falling a little deeper in love with the guy of his dreams. "I really miss your Denver Omelets!"
"How about I make you one to choke on and die?"
"This hard to get thing is really working for me." Jeff flashed his Hollywood smile, "Come on, have dinner with me."
"Sorry, I have a strict policy against dining with vermin, which reminds me…" Resuming his diva exit with a big fat smile on his face, Greg shouted as he snapped, "My roach is gonna kick your roach's ass!"
***
Chapter 19: Helping Out a Friend"You have to pull it together," Jim calmly advised while crouched in front of Nick, who was lying on his side in a supply closet, handcuffed and panting. "You're lucky I had those uniforms subdue you before you could pull your weapon." It had taken ten minutes just to get him to stop screaming. "I get it, believe me, I do. The guy executed his kids. Shooting him isn't even close to what I'd like to do to him. I'd like to publicly stone him and then let rabid wolves rip his busted body to shreds, but I can't have it my way and neither can you." Although he wished they could. "Trust me…you don't want to take up vigilante justice, because once you do, you get as lost as the bad guys. I've seen it happen to cops, it never ends well, and it would be hell on your family. Nick…you're a good guy who has seen some really bad shit and had some horrible things happen to him. It's a job hazard, we all go through phases…days, months or years when we don't think we can handle it anymore. When that happens, you need to step back and take a break. Maybe you can't do the job anymore. Maybe you really have hit the wall, but you won't know until you take a little time off and pull your head together." He tapped Nick on the shoulder. "Are you hearing anything I'm saying?"
"Yeah," Nick finally whispered. "You're right, and I'm sorry for losin' it. Thank you for stoppin' me before I did somethin' stupid."
"No sweat." Jim explained, "I've had my moments over the years and won't be casting any stones."
"I…I'm pretty sure I woulda tried to kill the guy if I had found him."
"Yeah, I know, but let's not tell Ecklie or IAB that when you meet with them, okay?"
"I guess there's no way they're just gonna let this slide, huh?"
"Not a chance in hell," Jim assured his embarrassed co-worker. "My advice, next time you have a breakdown, don't have it at the station."
"Yeah." Nick filled his lungs with air as his favorite police captain helped him sit up. "That was real bad planning on my part."
"Let me get those cuffs off you." Jim dangled his keys. "I have your weapon by the way, and I won't be giving it back."
"I don't blame you. How many people saw me lose it?"
"A dozen or so saw you assault a trash can, and then a couple dozen more were privy to your sprint into the building to kill the suspect and watched three cops take you down."
"Is that all? Great." Sitting up, Nick brought his freed, trembling hands to his face. "I'm sure Ecklie will have plenty to say then. I'm surprised he hasn't stormed in here."
"Sara's guarding the door," Jim announced as he stood. "Catherine is smoothing things over with Ecklie, because when you flipped out in the hallway, Sofia told him about an incident with you in Boulder City a few months ago and he's declared you unfit to work."
"She promised she wouldn't tell."
"A good friend doesn't keep a secret when your safety is in jeopardy. She did the right thing. If we had all compared notes, we would have gone to Grissom and recommended a leave of absence."
Knowing he had asked multiple people to keep quiet on the sly, Nick admitted, "You're absolutely right."
"I have to pull it together," Greg's voice cracked as he sat on the floor in his hotel room talking to his mother on his cell. In lieu of his best friend, he had no choice but to turn to her for guidance. "I yelled like a girl, but at least I didn't cry, and I nailed him square on the jaw with a right hook."
"Good for you!" Jan cheered. "Normally I'm against violence of any sort, but that bastard deserved it. I hope you didn't hurt your hand though."
"No." Greg opened and closed his fingers a few times to make sure. "That self-defense and empowerment program I was forced to take, really paid off. I'm going to buy my PEAP Counselor, Henry, a Starbucks gift card to say thanks for mandating it."
"How did Jeff the Creep look?"
"He does triathlons, Mom, what do you think? He was bigger, blonder and bolder than ever."
"That's what I figured. Will he be there for the whole conference?"
"Unfortunately." Greg rolled his eyes. "He thinks I'm playing hard to get, so my guess is he intends to harass me all week."
"Promise me you won't give in."
"I swear on Nana Olaf's grave. The man is vile and all I feel toward him is disgust, I couldn't have been more repulsed. He beat me to a pulp on my birthday and didn't apologize for ten years even though he knew I was right at least for the last three. He's been cruising men and cheating on his wife every chance he gets. The way he talked, a lot of it sounded like 'heat of the moment' passion, so I wonder if he's even been practicing safe sex. Can you imagine his wife finding out he's been traveling the country screwing guys while she's home taking care of his kids? That poor woman." His stomach churned. "He's a lying, manipulative pig, Mom. He had plenty of time to track me down, but he didn't bother until his wife left him. You know what I think? I think he wants me to be his new wife, doing all the domestic stuff just like when we used to live together during Grad School. He even said he missed my Denver Omelets."
"You do make a fabulous Denver, sweetie."
"Thanks." Greg sighed and leaned back against the wall, thinking of how much Nick liked them too. "I have no doubt in my mind that he would be out screwing every guy he could while I was home cooking and doing laundry for his scummy ass."
"Maybe this is my fault, maybe I shouldn't have made you so domestic."
"Nah, the right person will appreciate everything I learned from you, but not take advantage of me or my generosity."
"Like Nicky."
"Yeah." Since she was already worried, he didn't have the heart to tell her that Nick was upset with him.
"You can't let Jeff ruin your first big conference presentation. Just hold your head up high and don't let him see you sweat. Showing him that you're happy and successful in spite of what he's done to hurt you truly is the best revenge."
"Thanks for being a great mom and a great friend." Loving her for sharing her wisdom and support, Greg's smile returned. "You're absolutely right."
"Hey." Sara walked into the Crime Lab locker room and over to Nick. "Why are you taking everything off your locker?"
"I thought it was best." He continued peeling photos of his family off the inside door. "Just in case I don't get clearance, y'know. It would be too embarrassing to hafta come back."
"I'm sure you'll be back," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "I heard that Catherine really went to bat for you with Ecklie."
"Yeah." Staring at the photo of his nieces and nephews taken at Christmas in front of his parents' traditionally trimmed tree, he wondered why he hadn't been blessed with the easy, normal life his siblings were living. "It was good that Grissom left Cath in charge, because ever since his divorce, Ecklie responds best to a flirtatious negotiating style."
"In other words, he's a pig," Sara snarked. "But I think we should like Catherine again, what about you?"
"Even if this hadn't happened, it was probably about time, doncha think?"
"Yeah."
"What kind of deal did she end up negotiating for you?"
"I get one week to pull my shit together and then I have to report to my PEAP counselor."
"Same counselor that you saw after the kidnapping? Because I know you felt really comfortable with him."
"Henry, yeah, so at least I won't have to worry about dealin' with someone new. After three weeks of counseling, I have to pass a psych eval and a firearms certification to return. If I fail, they'll refer me to a more intense program."
"Wow, that is a good deal, because I heard Ecklie say he wanted you out of here for three months."
"I guess that shows how much Cath worked him over, huh? We had a nice talk when she came to me with the terms. We smoothed out our differences and have agreed to start with a clean slate. So, at least somethin' good came out of my freakshow. God, every time I think about it, I get a little more mortified."
"I really hope you don't feel embarrassed around me, because I've certainly had my moments."
"Gettin' pissy with Cath in the hall is hardly close to a complete mental snap. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, you were totally justified that day."
"That's not what I was talking about." Taking a seat on the bench, Sara quietly shared, "A few years ago, Grissom mandated I take a month off and start PEAP."
"How could I not know that?"
"Because my incident didn't happen while I was on the job, and Grissom covered for me, telling you that HR forced me to take a vacation because I had accrued too much time. I had been pretty close to losing it for a while, after Suzanna Kirkwood died to be precise. I started leaving work and drinking to numb the pain." Shaking her head, she sighed, "One night I got pulled over for DUI. They called Grissom and said they would give me a pass if he came down to the station for me."
Nick took a seat next to her in the empty locker room. "Wow. That is serious."
"I lucked out. If I had been caught on The Strip, or in an accident, my career would have been over."
"No kidding."
Sara finished the story, "After attending my counseling sessions, getting rid of bad habits, and making some much needed lifestyle changes, I felt much better. I returned to work renewed. I'm sure you will too, just don't rush it. Really take your time and sort things out. The job will still be here when you return, because who wants to work graveyard in Sin City, right? It's too depressing and the pay sucks."
"True," he chuckled, feeling better for the first time since the ordeal. "Very true."
"What did Greg have to say about all this?" When Nick fell silent and averted his eyes, she asked, "Did you have a hard time getting through? I had to call Grissom about something and didn't have a problem, so maybe…"
"I didn't call Greg." Once again Nick was on his feet cleaning out his locker. "Do you know if Grissom told him? Or is going to tell him?"
"Why wouldn't you…did something bad happen between you two?" Sara probed, feeling bad for prying, but considering her friend's state of mind, it felt like the right move. "I trust you with my life, so I hope you know you can trust me with anything. You do, right?"
"It's not that I don't trust you, it's…" Emotionally drained and in desperate need of a friend, Nick risked a little personal information. "I didn't call Greg, because I kinda upset him when we were talking on the phone last night. I didn't mean to, I just got pissed off about something he said and hung up on him. Not like a slam the phone down type of hang up, I said I needed to go, and I said goodbye, but I hung up knowing he was real upset, well, upset isn't exactly the right word, more like disappointed, although that doesn't sound right either." Closing his empty locker, he took a breath. "I guess that's the problem, huh? I hung up without knowing how he felt."
"What was the fight about?" Sara pushed, trying to help her obviously troubled pal, and when she saw him glance around, she added, "We're all alone in here and can see if anyone comes in. No one should though, because everyone from day shift just left for the field."
"Sara…" He froze.
"There's nothing you could tell me that would change the way I think about you. Nothing."
"I appreciate what you're doin' here, but it's a problem that I don't feel comfortable discussin' with anyone, that's exactly how I got pissed at Greg, him pushin' me to talk about it when I didn't wanna."
"I'm never a busybody. You know I'm not. I'm just worried about you. You and Greg are the only friends I have, besides another significant one who shall remain nameless."
"Ha!" Nick laughed at the hypocrisy. "You want me to discuss my personal problems, but you can't even tell me you're hooked up with Griss?" When he saw her surprised reaction, he said, "Yeah, Greg and I figured out he was your SO after you told Jenni's grandpa that you couldn't make it to the hospital because a close friend of yours was injured. Then we found out that Grissom was out of work with a blown back." He teased, "Did it happen during sex?"
"Not during," she replied while her cheeks blushed to a bright red. "I left to retrieve a pertinent supply and he fell…off the edge…of the Jacuzzi tub."
"Oh! I can't believe you just told me that."
"Me either." Hoping the overshare would set the tone for a soul-baring conversation, she sweetly pleaded, "You can't tell him. Seriously. This is me talking to you like you're the brother I wished I had. When I didn't have anything good going on in my life, it didn't matter that I didn't have anyone to share details with, but now I get these urges to tell someone how overwhelmingly happy I am, but who? I don't have girlfriends, siblings or parents to tell. It would be nice if that confidante could be you, and not that I think anything will go wrong with Grissom, but if something does, I'll need someone to talk to, you know?"
It felt nice to be needed on a bad day. "I'd love to be your confidante and your stand-in brother."
"Good, then I'll tell you a little more top secret info." Sara slid close and spoke in a whisper, "I moved in with my SO the same weekend that Greg moved in with you."
Nick's smile expanded. "Were you hidin' in the house yesterday when I dropped off Greg?"
"Yep." Sara smiled wide. "I was watching out the window, completely envious that you were out there giving Greg a great goodbye hug while I had to hide inside."
"Oh." Nick's smile vanished. "I didn't know anyone was watchin' us." He flustered, "I um…I can only imagine what you…shit."
"It's okay."
"No, no it's not." He panicked, feeing far from okay.
Treading delicately, she said, "This is without a doubt the most intrusive thing I've ever said to anyone ever."
"Uh oh." He braced for her words.
"I'm going to take a shot here, and if I'm off base, I apologize, and I hope you won't be upset, okay?" When he didn't reply, she forged on as cryptically as possible, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear. "Yesterday, watching you and Greg in the parking lot, that hug looked pretty special to me, and if I'm right, and it was special, then my thoughts are only positive, because you and Greg have both survived terrible things against all odds and if anyone deserves to be happy, it's the two of you. I'd be thrilled for you. I wanted you to hear that in case you were worried that I would feel differently. And if I'm right, you don't have to worry about me telling anyone that I am. I won't. I wanted you to know that too."
When she finally ended the tortuous ramble, Nick whimpered, "You're killin' me, Sara." As usual, the acid in his stomach started to churn. "You're killin' me."
"That's not my intention."
"I know." Uncovering his face, he whispered, "I have a hard time even thinkin' about this, so to talk about it with you, or Greg, it's not a matter of trust, it's just me not wantin' to talk about it, because to talk about it means it exists, and I don't want it to exist. I've worked overtime for decades keepin' it nonexistent. I've never spoken of it, or acted on it. Never."
"That doesn't sound healthy, and considering your melt down today, I think we can agree that you're not in a good place."
"Why do you care?" he snipped. "I get why Greg is hell bent on me dealin' with this, but what's in it for you?"
The question put a smile on Sara's face. "While I have no doubt that Greg would benefit much more in the long run, I'm reasonably certain that we both have your health as our primary concern, and we want you to be happy."
"Happy?" Nick scoffed at the absurdity. "Happy? Are you kiddin' me? Losin' my family would not make me happy."
"What makes you think you would lose them?" she asked, troubled by the response. "I met your folks when you were kidnapped. It was obvious they care deeply about you."
"They love who I am now, Sara, but they wouldn't if I was…" He lowered his voice, "They're not pro-choice people, not when it comes to abortion or alternative lifestyles. They are ring-wing conservative Christians. They campaigned for Bush Senior and Junior. James Dobson and Pat Robertson have been to the ranch for dinner. My mom heads a pro-life action group and my sister lobbies in Washington DC to preserve the American family by pushing for legislation against things like same-sex marriage and medical benefits for life partners. Do you see what I'm sayin'? If I choose…"
"Choose?" Surprised by his comparison, Sara replied, "What do you mean choose? Abortion is a choice, but sexuality isn't. You're a scientist, you know that."
"I wasn't born this way," he shakily replied, "I was born normal, just like my brother and sisters. It was the abuse that messed me up. I can't bond with women, because I was sexually abused by one as a young boy. If it weren't for that, I'd be just like them, I'd be married with kids too. I know that's it. I know it."
Seeing Nick's whole body tremble, Sara reached out for his hand. "Let's really think about that explanation, okay?"
"Okay." Relieved to have his theory finally in the hands of someone else, Nick pulled in a deep breath. "I've never been able to tell anyone, and it would really help if I could hear you agree with me."
Her friend's desperation and choice of words, tugging at her heart strings, Sara began, "I absolutely believe that being abused by a woman could make you hate women and not trust them. I agree with you. Your inability to bond with women could be gravely impacted."
"Good," he exhaled, relieved by the statement. "It's great to hear you say that, because you have a strong Forensic Psychology background and I trust your opinion."
"Thank you for your faith." She cautiously continued, "Besides my professional opinion, I have a personal one too. Watching my father abuse my mother made me hate men and distrust them. All through high school, I couldn't bond with guys. In college I tried again, but was burned and my hatred was renewed. Abuse gets imprinted in our minds and it's hard to shake the negativity consciously, but subconsciously it's even harder."
"I knew I was right," Nick breathed a little easier. "I knew the abuse was the reason."
With a steady voice, she burst her desperate friend's bubble, "But even though I was repulsed by men for a long time, not once did that repulsion make me attracted to women. So, while I can believe that you hate women because one abused you, I can't believe that the abuse made you physically attracted to boys growing up and still has you drawn to men today."
Hearing his friend say he was attracted to boys, only intensified his nausea.
"It doesn't work that way, Nick. I know, believe me, I tried. I was sick of men and agreed to go out with a girl in college, but it didn't click, no matter how hard I wanted it to work and be rid of men forever, it didn't work." Squeezing Nick's tremoring hand tighter, she presented her theory, "Isn't it possible that the attraction to boys was always there, but before you were old enough to understand your sexuality, the abuse happened? Then, when you reached puberty and found yourself attracted to boys, your used the abuse to rationalize those feelings because you knew they went against your family's beliefs?"
"But how can we ever know for sure?" he asked as his terror grew.
"We look at the evidence." Her compassion shining through, she tenderly replied, "You're thirty-five and still horribly conflicted, that tells me that all the rationalizing has failed. You've dated hundreds of women, but have never once spoken of a special girl. Knowing you're a romantic guy, why haven't you fallen in love with a woman after all this time? And your dating behavior doesn't match your personality, Nick. You're a nice, old-fashioned guy, but you only date like women you'd never bring home to Mama."
"Greg's been sayin' that to me too," Nick shared as reality crashed down around him.
"And let's talk about Greg," Sara segued, "the happiest I've ever seen you is when you're with him. When you look at him, when you talk about him, I see your eyes light up, and when I watched you hug him yesterday, the look on your face...it was like suddenly everything made sense, that you were in the right place."
"But I don't want your theory to be right!" he anxiously replied, realizing that everything she was saying was true, especially about the hug feeling incredibly right. In Greg's arms, everything really had clicked into place. "I don't want to be…I don't want to want him."
"But as a scientist, you saying you don't want to be attracted to men is like hearing you don't want brown eyes. It's part of who you are."
"But it doesn't have to be." He made one final push, "People choose to get color contacts if they don't like their brown eyes, so why can't I choose to date women because I don't like the way I was born? It's as simple as that."
"And how's that choice been working out so far?"
"Good enough," he gulped.
"Good enough? We're talking about your happiness, Nick. Good enough is no way to live, I'd say it's not really living at all." Sara's heart broke for the tormented man sitting next to her. "I knew a guy who was choosing not to have a life for years, but you know what happened when he finally gave in and said what the hell?"
His eyes welling, Nick answered, "He fell out a jacuzzi and hurt his back?"
"Yes!" she rejoiced, "and when he was in the hospital suffering from his romance-induced injury, he looked at me and said that he was happier than he had ever been in his life. He looked me in the eyes and shared that if he had to choose between being home alone pain-free and being miserable in the hospital with his girlfriend because of an adventurous mishap, he would pick the injury ten out of ten times, because living in pain is much better than existing numb." As her friend stealthily wiped his tears, she said, "Color contacts, implants, hair dyes, while they successfully change who a person is on the outside, they never change who they are on the inside. People who focus 24/7 on their appearance are usually doing it to achieve what they believe is the societal norm. They do it because they're desperate to be what Cosmopolitan magazine has declared ideal, to the extreme of having painful surgeries and starving themselves. You're working 24/7 trying to live the way your family says is the American family ideal, to the extreme of sacrificing your happiness and denying yourself a meaningful relationship with someone you clearly want."
"But they're my family, Sara," his voice cracked. "Gettin' blue contacts would be about vanity, my choice to live a certain way is about not hurtin' the people I love. My father is a public figure and family members are respected in the community, two of them hold elected offices. On top of that, they're Christians who believe the Bible is the inerrant word of God. Many of them are actively involved in their churches, and the Dallas social circle they're in is tight as hell. I don't want to cause them grief. I don't want my mom prayin' for my soul every night before she sleeps. I don't want to miss every holiday and not be allowed to hang with my nephews because I'm creepy Uncle Nick. My choice is a sacrifice I'm willin' to make to spare them embarrassment and discomfort, and to keep my place in the family. Why can't you respect that decision?"
Looking directly into Nick's teary eyes, she pointedly asked, "What is your family personally sacrificing for you on a daily basis? Hmm?"
"They uh…"
"Do you think your brother would give up his marriage if it offended you? You told me that two of your sisters didn't even come to see you after you almost died because they were too busy with their kids, something about a school play." She snapped into anger, "Wake up, Nick! They're all busy living while you hide here in Vegas working overtime not to offend them. How fair is that? You didn't ask to be born this way, it's how you're hardwired. If they can't understand that, they're ignorant, and if someone doesn't love you because you have brown eyes, do they really love you at all?" She gulped down her rage. "I know that sounds harsh, and maybe I'm bitter because I don't have a family, or maybe I can't get it, because I don't believe the Bible is the inerrant word of God, or maybe I'm just intolerant of intolerant people, I don't know. Just answer the question, what is your family doing for you while you sacrifice your happiness to keep them from being inconvenienced or uncomfortable?"
After a lengthy pause, he squeaked, "You're right, Sara, you're so right. Half the time my sisters don't even return my calls. Eileen didn't even remember my birthday last year. Greg never forgets my birthday."
"You've given them thirty-five years of your life as a great son and brother," Sara encouraged wanting to end her friend's misery. "How about giving them a chance to be great for you? The ones who truly love you, will be there when the dust settles, right?" When he nodded, she softened her tone, "And who says you have to tell them anyway? A lot of people come out to a few trusted friends and tell their families much later. I would wait a while."
"A long while." Jumping to his feet, Nick paced in front of Sara. "Holy shit! I can't believe we're talking about this, I can't believe I'm considerin' what I'm considerin' after forcin' myself to not consider it for so long."
"Be honest with yourself, as scared as you are right now, deep down there's some relief, right?"
Unable to admit it with words, he confirmed her suspicions with a nod.
"I know how hard this is for you, but you've got me, and you've got Greg. How many times have you told me what a great guy he is, huh?"
"Yeah," he bit back his tears. "He really is."
Sara watched fear and joy dancing together in Nick's eyes. "Greg's in Long Beach and you have time off. There's always a lot of downtime at those conferences."
"What the hell." He reached for his cell. "You're right, you're absolutely right. I haven't been livin' at all. I'm gonna start now."
"Don't call!" Sara laughed at herself for playing Cupid. "Just drive there and surprise him."
"You think that's better?"
"Who doesn't like a romantic surprise?"
"Oh God." Nick leaned against the lockers. "Hearin' you talkin' about it casually like that. A romantic surprise, oh my God." He gripped his knotting stomach. "I've never even talked to Greg on those terms. The only thing I've said so far is 'yes' when he asked me if I wanted to go to Catalina Island with him, and then when he asked if I'd be bringin' girls I said no, I just wanted to be with him. After that I flipped out, and rightly so, because I don't know the first thing about…"
Sara stood and beamed a smile at her friend. "Dating a guy?" When she saw him cringe, she sweetly advised, "The more we talk about it out loud, the more comfortable you'll get. How much experience has he had?"
"I don't know! I didn't want to know. I still kinda don't want to know, but I guess I have to know, huh?"
"I think it would be helpful, yes," she sweetly smiled at the frightened newbie. "But if I had to guess, I'd say that Greg is a solid three on the Kinsey scale and probably hasn't had a lot of play on either side of the fence. You will definitely wear the pants in the relationship, because if ever there was a top…"
"Please stop." With puppy dog eyes he begged for a reprieve, "Baby steps, Sara, baby steps. I can't go there."
"Top not as in physical locale, I meant the dominant partner, like me, as opposed to Grissom." She chuckled, "I'll shut up now."
"Thank you," he replied while massaging his temples. "Because I passed overwhelmed when you brought up the Kinsey scale and I'm well on my way to heart attack."
"I just got a great idea," Sara stated, continuing her ad-hoc therapy program.
Nick's pulse notched. "You're not like going to take me shopping for pink clothes or a manicure, are ya?" He couldn't believe he was joking, he couldn't believe anything that had just happened or was happening, or was about to happen.
"Shopping and manicures? Are you kidding?" She belly laughed. "I don't like doing that stuff for me, so I'd never subject you to that kind of torture." She winked, "I'm driving with you to Long Beach. After four hours of desensitization therapy with me talking to you in the car, hopefully you'll be able to speak to Greg in full sentences. After the conference, I'll ride home with my boyfriend, and you can ride home with yours."
"My ears are officially bleeding." With his hands over his face, he asked, "How can you go to California? What about work?"
"Not a problem." She popped open her locker. "Cath told Ecklie it would be best if the rest of us had some time to decompress from the drama, so he called in the Relief Team like we did after your kidnapping." Nudging her stand-in sibling, she chuckled, "That's two we owe you, bro." Grabbing her jacket and purse from her locker, she said, "I'll go home and pack, swing by for me in an hour, okay?"
Grabbing his box of locker contents, he agreed in a quavering voice, "Okay, unless I pass out from the stress, you've got yourself a ride."
"You'll be fine."
"I feel anything but."
In his ear she whispered, "I guarantee you'll know if it's the right decision the second Greg looks at you. Right or wrong, you'll know." Trying desperately to put her pal at ease, she headed for the door whistling a happy tune and cracked a joke, "Hmm…maybe you better make that ninety minutes, because I want to buy some new lingerie."
"I thought you don't like shopping," Nick teased as they walked down the hall.
"No, I said I don't like shopping for me," she snickered, "but I don't buy new lingerie for me."
Thinking of Greg's new moose boxers, Nick lowered his head to hide his grin. It was happening. After all these years he was letting it happen. He had come out to Sara and was hours away from being face to face with the guy who wanted him to be much more than a friend. It was official, life had begun. "Were you kiddin' about needin' ninety minutes, Sara?"
"Want to get there as soon as possible?" Sara asked through a brilliant smile.
He answered by shifting his eyes to the floor.
"That's okay, " she confessed, "I want to get there as soon as possible too. It's only been twenty-four hours, which makes me pathetic, I know, but…I miss him like hell."
Nick silently replied, I know the feeling.
***
Chapter 20: Surprised?"Are you hungry?" Grissom asked his mopey travel mate as they walked through the Long Beach Aquarium in silence.
"No," Greg answered from his position in front of the massive floor to ceiling tropical tank. He always lost his appetite under duress.
"They have a Starbucks café on the premises," Grissom countered, "would you like to grab a coffee?"
Greg shrugged. "Maybe an iced mocha. Nah, nevermind." After learning of Nick's melt down from Catherine and receiving no calls from his buddy, he took it as a sign that things were over before they had really begun. "Fish are lucky," he sighed. "They don't sit by the phone waiting for calls, or wonder if they'll have a date on Saturday night. They don't even know it's Saturday night."
"It's Sunday," Grissom compulsively corrected.
"I was speaking figuratively."
"Ah."
"I envy fish." Greg tracked a large Ray gliding through the water. "They aren't bogged down by complicated interpersonal relationships, intense emotions, or sexual frustration. They're never alone, because they travel in schools. Sometimes I wish I was a fish. Knowing my luck, if I were a fish, I'd be expelled from school."
"Stop! Please, stop." Grissom reluctantly broached the subject he had been dreading, "Look, I don't like to get personally involved with my employees, but…"
"What?" Greg burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me? Normally I wouldn't say anything, but I'm in a funky mood and all bets are off. I figured out that you're shacking up with Sara, so for you to say you don't get personally involved with your employees is laughable. The jig's up, Griss. I know you're human."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Grissom droned, "Will a Grande Mocha Latte with extra whip prevent you from sharing that knowledge with others?"
"Maybe one a day for the rest of my life." When Grissom tensed, Greg relented, "I'm just busting your chops. I haven't told anyone and I won't, but you should know that Nick figured it out too and he hates lattes. A weekly steak at Arizona Charlie's will probably buy his silence. Or you could just be up front about your relationship and stop lying and covering your tracks. There's a novel idea, huh? People being honest about their feelings and personal lives. Wouldn't that be nice? I know I'd welcome that from people for a change."
"On my way back to my room this morning after our meeting with the editors, I saw you passionately arguing with a man you seemed to be acquainted with a little more than casually."
"You did?" Greg fell silent.
"Yes, that's what I was about to say when you outed me as a hypocrite."
Greg anxiously laughed, "Funny you should use the word outed."
"Not really, I picked it specifically as a segue to my next comment."
"Oh. Are you surprised?"
"Not really." Stepping closer, Grissom quietly said, "To me, sexual orientation is like eye color, genetically determined. Your being gay is not offensive to me in the least, but what I do find appalling is inappropriate and unprofessional behavior at a Forensics Conference when you are associated with me and the LVPD Lab. It is a privilege to be here presenting with me, Greg, and if you ever want that privilege again, I suggest you change your behavior ASAP. Just so we're clear, I'm telling you exactly the same thing I told Catherine in the past, so there is no same-sex discrimination going on here. When you're representing the lab at a conference, keep your love life private and have your lover's quarrels behind closed doors."
"He's not my lover!" Greg barked in reply, "and I'm Bi, so you're O for two, Mr. Know-It-All. What the hell happened to not making assumptions, Griss? About waiting for all the evidence before drawing conclusions? Huh? I didn't invite Jeff to the hotel, he stalked me there. It might have looked different from afar, but those PDAs were one-sided, and when he wouldn't back off, I punched him."
"Stalked?" Grissom asked with concern in his voice. "Let's not toss that word around lightly."
"I'm dead serious! He's my ex-friend and Grad School roommate. We parted ways ten years ago on my birthday. He surprised me with an expensive Omega watch and silly me, I assumed it meant that he was crazy about me. When I said as much and told him I felt the same way, he screamed he wasn't queer and beat the crap out of me and if his buddy hadn't shown up, I'd be dead. We never spoke again…until today." Calming down with a deep breath, he continued, "He's a DNA guy in Seattle now and he told me he signed up for the conference because he saw my name on the presenter list. He came here to say that I was right about him being gay and in denial. It took him seven years to admit it to himself, but instead of apologizing to me immediately, he decided to screw guys for three years first and then clue me in. He showed up here hoping we'd pick up where we left off, which I told him would happen right after hell freezes over. I'm very sorry if I caused you any embarrassment, but he literally ambushed me on the path to my room and I was in shock. It won't happen again, I assure you. If he tries to talk to me, I'll just keep walking."
While Greg caught his breath, Grissom groveled, "I'm very sorry, it was terrible of me to make assumptions. Under those circumstances, your reaction is quite understandable. I hope you'll accept my apology."
"Consider it accepted." Greg headed for the escalator. "I'll take that latte now."
"You got it." Following his depressed employee who truly was having a shit year, Grissom said, "After hearing about Nick's emotional episode at the lab this morning, I figured..."
"Jeff's appearance and Nick's explosion are unrelated." Greg stepped onto the escalator. "There's nothing going on between Nick and me. He's a ladies man, end of story. If it's appeared to be anything else, it was just me projecting my wishful thinking, so don't worry, there won't be any problems at the lab in the future, no PDAs, no lover's quarrels."
"I'm sorry, you really don't have to explain anymore."
"Let's talk about you then." Stepping off the escalator Greg asked in a vulnerable voice, "Are you going for happily ever after with Sara?"
"Uh…" Walking in the direction of Starbucks, Grissom replied, "I don't ever discuss my personal life. I honestly still have some difficulty discussing it with Sara, but yes, I would love to see our relationship stand the test of time."
"Considering the divorce rate, your response sounds much more romantic and hopeful than 'I hope we get married some day'." Pushing beyond his own problems, Greg smiled at the thought of Sara being loved. "I wanted to be the guy responsible for making Sara happy for the rest of her life. I applied for the job many, many times, but never even got a phone interview. If it couldn't be me, I'm glad it's you, because I know you'll keep her safe and treat her right." Sighing, he checked out the pastries in the display case. "And when you're too old to satisfy her in the not so distant future, she can always buy a good vibrator."
With Trump-like bravado, Grissom joked, "Greg…you're fired."
"I'm sure the Undersheriff will be thrilled to hear it." Greg pointed to a lemon-poppy seed muffin. "I'll have one of those please," he told the barista in between laughs.
When Greg was done ordering his complicated coffee, Grissom requested a Coffee of the Day and then bestowed a little wisdom on his protégé, "I didn't get my dream girl until the ripe old age of forty-nine, so trust me when I tell you that there's still plenty of time for you to find and settle down with Ms. or Mr. Right."
"Thanks, for the encouragement, sensitivity and political correctness." The young CSI grinned, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."
"Are you hungry?" Sara yelled over her shoulder while driving Nick's SUV. "Come on! Take the gum out of your ears and talk to me!"
Fishing out wads of Bubble Yum, Nick sighed, "That trick has spared me pain on multiple occasions now…it saved me from bustin' my ear drums when I shot my gun in the coffin, kept out the ants from crawlin' in, and now it muffled your gay talk." When Sara went too far with her desensitization therapy, he had jumped to the backseat and threatened to render himself deaf. The gum trick ended up being his compromise. "If you pull into the Wienerschnitzel drive-thru and order me a foot-long wiener, I'm strandin' you here. I'm not kiddin', Sidle."
"I'm very proud," she said while her friend returned to the passenger seat, "you just managed to say the word 'gay' for the first time and then you joked about eating wieners. I'm not only a great CSI, I'm a great therapist."
"Yeah, you're like Dr. Phil and Dr. Ruth's surprisingly good looking love child," Nick droned as he buckled up for the remaining hour of the drive.
"Thank you…I think." Pointing to the road sign listing the restaurants at the next exit, Sara asked, "Where do you want to eat?"
Without hesitation, Nick picked his usual place, "In and Out." As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, he burst out laughing. "Come on now, you know In and Out Burger is my favorite place."
"I'm having a great time," Sara announced while laughing along with her pseudo-brother. "If I wasn't in love with Grissom and you weren't gay, this would be appear to be a great date, don't you think?"
"There's that word again." He grabbed the mini notebook and pen he had sitting in the console and made another hash mark on the page titled 'Number of times Sara said gay'. "Forty-one," he reported.
"My goal is sixty-nine." Shaking with laughter, she added, "Yours should be too…one night in the future…with Greg."
"I'm kickin' you out of my truck when we stop for food Rancho Cucamonga, Sidle, so I hope your bug-freak boyfriend can peel himself away from his roaches long enough to drive here and pick you up."
"I'm sorry, that was a really bad joke." Sara shook her head. "I'm appalled with myself and my lack of self control. Just because I'm on my way to secretly rendezvous with my fifty year old boss in his Forensics Conference hotel room, which is being paid for by the good citizens of Clark County, doesn't mean I'm a low-class scamp who can't pass up an off color joke when it's staring her in the eye."
"You really are Griss's dirty little mistress, aren't you?" Nick laughed, enjoying the company and his friend's efforts, while not admitting it. "Tell me, is he gonna make an honest woman out of you some day soon?"
"I don't like to talk about marriage," she squirmed, feeling strongly opposed to marriage most of the time.
"Oh sure," Nick slapped his thigh and laughed, "you can talk 'til the cows come home about me gettin' it on with Greg, but I ask you a wholesome marriage question and your mouth shuts tighter than a clam shell. I stand by my claim…you're a dirty little mistress. DLM, that's your new nickname. DLM!"
"No, I'm not a DLM, I'm a significant other," she corrected. "An SO."
"I remember you bein' anti-marriage when we were workin' that case at Cupid's Kiss too."
"The one where your truck full of evidence got stolen?" she tweaked.
"I've blocked that part." He shook off the bad memory. "Every time marriage came up you tossed a wet blanket on the subject."
"Yeah, and Greg said weddings were all about scoring with drunk desperate chicks," she snickered. "I don't think I was the only one fronting while we worked that case. You, however, said marriage is a public declaration of love."
"That's right, and I stand by my words."
"Well, I like my declarations of love to be private," Sara explained. "That doesn't make them less meaningful, it just means I don't want strangers involved in my most intimate moments. When the time comes for you tell Greg those three letter words, I really doubt you'll be grabbing a microphone."
"I was waitin' on you to turn it around to me and G." Laughing at his friend, Nick shook his head, "I've got your number, DLM."
"Maybe by the time you two are ready to commit, gay marriage will be legal in Nevada."
"Forty-two!" He made another hash mark. "Doncha think I should at least hold his hand before I start pickin' out China patterns? I've been out to you for four hours, Sara, I still can't believe I am out, to be honest. This ride is like a freaky dream to me. I keep expectin' to see munchkins drivin' the car next to us and the road to be suddenly paved in yellow bricks."
"Wow. Over the Rainbow symbolism," Sara stated approvingly, "I'm impressed."
He winked. "I always was the teacher's pet in school, and I'm thinkin' the sooner I prove myself, the quicker the torture will end."
"It's not torture, it's initiation by fire, and that's a proven method of desensitization. After this car trip from hell, talking to Greg will be easy…unless you're too busy making up for lost time to have a conversation."
"I'm ignoring that last part." Nick squirmed in his seat. "I'm still tryin' to figure out what I'm gonna say when I see him."
"Like Greg will let you get a word in edgewise."
"Very true." Nick's lips curved into a smile. "He talks more than a preacher on Sunday, and just like back in church, sometimes I fall asleep sittin' there listenin' to him ramble, and when I wake up, he's still on the same subject."
"Isn't it funny how someone's bad habit becomes endearing once you care about him? And when your guy isn't home, you think you'll be happy for a reprieve, but then you find yourself sitting in the empty house missing his annoying behavior. Instead of being happy for a break, I got scared. It was a harsh reminder of how I had just spent the last decade of my life, and suddenly I wanted Grissom and his roaches back in my living room."
"I hear ya…except the bug part, that's messed up." Vulnerability returning to his voice, Nick said, "I had forgotten how quiet my place was before Greg moved in. When I woke up yesterday, I thought I was in the morgue. That's why I called him."
"You missed his voice," Sara stated, thinking of Gil.
"Yeah." Nick breathed out. "And we were havin' a great conversation, and he was excited about goin' to Catalina, doin' it all for me, because I said I was stressed and needed a break. Then I end up screamin' at him and pullin' the rug out from under him, hangin' up, not callin' back, not callin' when I got the news about his paper. He must think I hate him by now."
"Yeah, he's driving Grissom crazy," Sara shared. "When we stopped at the Rest Area for a pee break, I called and he told me that Greg was moping around the Long Beach Aquarium saying he wanted to be a fish because they didn't have emotions and were never lonely because they traveled in schools, but if he were a fish, they'd expel him and he still wouldn't have a date on Saturday night."
"Seriously?" Nick stifled his laughter with his hand. "I guess you're right about him bein' the girl in the relationship, huh?"
"He's more of a girl than I'll ever be." Chuckling, she transitioned onto the exit ramp. "Drive-thru or dine-in?"
"Gotta use the men's room." Knowing Greg was so blue, he felt compelled to call and make things right.
"Don't call him!"
Nick laughed. "I guess you're not just a great CSI and therapist, you're a pretty good mind reader too."
"We have a plan! We're surprising our guys," she huffed. "Grissom thinks I called him from home. I really want to shock the hell out of him. This is me trying my hardest to be a girly girl, to be romantic, I have lace and candles in my suitcase for crying out loud. Don't ruin the surprise."
"Okay, okay." He handed over his cell phone. "Keep it."
After parking the car, she snatched the phone. "Do you have any gum left?"
"Yeah, you want some?"
"No, I want you and Greg to put it in your ears later, because apparently the hotel walls are paper thin, and I expect my romantic surprise to be very successful."
"Yeah, well…I don't plan on spendin' a lot of time in Greg's hotel room, so have at it."
"Afraid you'll be tempted to make up for lost time?" she teased. "I saw Brokeback Mountain, I know what happens when a repressed guy decides to go for it."
"I've never seen it and suddenly I'm more afraid than ever to watch it." Opening the restaurant's door, Nick said, "You're buyin' me lunch for scorchin' me with your Initiation by Fire therapy."
"I was planning on it," she replied while walking into the restaurant. "What do you want?"
"Peace and quiet on the next leg of the drive." He feigned surprise. "Oh! Did you mean what do I want to eat? The usual, two double burgers animal style."
"Animal style, huh?" She lowered her sunglasses. "Poor Greggo."
"There's a family dinin' over there, Sidle. Jeeez, you thirty-somethin' women are somethin' else, it's all about sex and/or babies. Poor Griss, he must see more action than a Kentucky stud horse." Whispering in her ear, he teased, "Does he take Viagra or do you have a vibrator on hand when he's not up to meetin' your insatiable needs? I bet that's why you don't want to marry him, you're worried he'll fall apart in a few years."
Standing in the corner of the restaurant, Sara blurted her fear, "My reluctance to marry has nothing to do with Grissom, and everything to do with watching my father beat my mother until the day she couldn't take it anymore and killed him."
Stunned by the now obvious reason, Nick stammered, "I'm…I'm really sorry, Sara, I…I shoulda realized that before runnin' off my mouth." Feeling terrible, he dropped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I promise not to razz you about it anymore. It's an off-limits topic as of now, okay?"
"No, I'm sorry for tossing my wet blanket again. I didn't mean to, I was having a great time. I do this at home with Gil too," she sighed, hating the depressing habit she couldn't seem to break. "We'll be home joking around and then I'll blurt something horrible about my childhood and bring the levity to a grinding halt."
"That's a good thing though, it means that you're comfortable enough to open up, as opposed to a dating situation where you're always on guard not to say things you believe will make the other person check their watch, counting the seconds until they're free of the psycho sharing their table. Griss is your SO and I'm your SIB, stand-in brother. You're comfortable with me and that makes me feel good, because I know I shared my deepest secret with a person who trusts me with their innermost thoughts. I'm sure Grissom feels the same way."
"I never thought about that way." Her smile returned. "That's good."
"Yep, it's all good." He breathed deep. "And so is the smell in this place."
"Really? All I smell is dead cow."
"How about you wait outside, Sis, I'll order you French Fries and a Grilled Cheese?"
"Thanks, Bro."
"And hey…" A consummate gentleman, he leaned in whispering, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."
"Are you hungry?" Warrick asked Catherine as they strolled out of the lab, ready to start their negotiated R&R. "Wanna grab a late lunch with me? Maybe catch a movie after?"
"Can't," she answered with regret. "I have plans."
"Man or vibrator," he joked. "I'm tryin' to size up the competition, y'know?"
"Lindsay," she informed her future boyfriend, who she was pleased to know was officially throwing his hat into the ring. "She needs a prom dress."
"Wow. Little Lindsay is all grown up and old enough to be goin' to the prom. When the hell did that happen?"
"It's not her prom, it's her date's prom, so she's not quite that old yet, but…" Catherine released the labored sigh of a mother worried she was headed over the hill, "she's almost sixteen, Warrick. If you're shocked, how the hell do you think I feel? I'm old enough to have a sixteen year old daughter."
"In this town, there are thirty year olds with sixteen year old daughters."
"Back when I was fourteen, I would have been mortified to get pregnant and have a kid, but now I'm going to start saying I had Lindsay at fourteen, so people think I'm thirty." Catching her reflection in a window, she sighed, "Not that anyone will believe me, except the blind."
"Hey now, don't be doggin' yourself." He opened the door for his appearance-conscious friend. "You are a stunning woman, Cath, with a body that makes heads turn."
"The heads used to belong to twenty-five year old guys, but lately they're on the shoulders of lecherous sixty year olds, who can't score with the hot young things in this town."
"You got plans tomorrow night?" Warrick asked when they reached Catherine's car.
"Nope."
"You do now," he possessively informed her. "You better dress up too, because I'm takin' you out on the town."
"Is this a pity date?"
"Only if you run off to be with another man at the end of the night."
"Or my vibrator, right?"
"Eight o'clock, I'll pick you up."
"It's a date."
"Good." Leaning in, he whispered, "Sorry about the vibrator joke."
"Much better," Grissom praised his protégé, who had just run through his section of their presentation for the third time. "That's the rate of speech you need to use tomorrow."
"I talk really fast when I'm anxious," Greg told his boss, "and since my personal life is shit, and this is my first big Forensics presentation, and my asshole ex-friend Jeff left a message on my hotel room phone saying he plans to sit front and center, I'm not sure I can pull off a relaxed tone and persona tomorrow." Glancing around the enormous university lecture hall, he apologized, "I'm really sorry, but I know my limitations, you're going to be presenting with a Mexican Jumping Bean."
"I could bar Jeff from attending the lecture."
"No, he'd love to know he's tweaking me." Greg shook his head. "My mom said the best revenge is to prove I'm happy and successful in spite of him. That's what I need to do."
Once again feeling bad for the guy who had a rough year, Grissom spoke in a paternal tone, "I'll be right on the podium with you, if you get in a jam, don't worry. Tonight, make sure you get plenty of sleep, and don't drink any caffeine in the morning."
"Maybe I should down a bottle or two from the mini bar for breakfast."
"No, we can't have you reeking of alcohol and acting goofy." Grissom lowered his voice, "What's the dosage and dispensing instructions of your Valium?"
"2mg, take one for daytime anxiety, two before bed to sleep, max six per day, but I don't take it that often anymore, only when I can't sleep or wake up from a nightmare."
"And how does it affect you?"
"One chills me out and makes me a little silly, two knocks me out."
"You think a half in the morning would help, but not make you slow on the uptake?"
"Yeah, probably," Greg nodded, "I think that would work."
"Okay, do that." Grissom gave his anxiety-ridden colleague his car keys. "Now take my car back to the hotel and see if you can get a massage at the spa. At a minimum, spend some time in the Jacuzzi tub in your suite. That way you'll be relaxed for this evening's conference launch."
"What are you going to do?"
"There's an afternoon tea in the faculty lounge. I'm going to do a little networking for the lab. I use these conferences to establish connections with experts in various fields, so I have people to call when we need to bring in a specialist. I'll get a ride back from someone staying at the hotel."
"Is that how that works? I wondered." Greg jingled the keys. "I'll treat your baby right, don't worry."
"Don't screw with my radio stations!"
"Yes, Dad!" Greg laughed on the way to the door. "And I'll remember to take my condom wrappers out of the backseat so I don't get busted like I did in high school!"
"I sincerely hope you're joking!"
"Of course I am," Greg shouted from the open door, "I don't have a sex life!" As he shut the door, he saw Jeff standing in the hallway waiting to pounce and kicked himself for the careless admission.
"Surprise!" Jeff announced. "I'd be more than happy to fill that sex life void for you."
"I'd sleep with a sheep before you."
Grinning at his future lover, Jeff said, "I peeked through the window, you looked great up on stage. I can't wait to hear you present tomorrow."
"I told my mother about you surprising me here."
"Still talking to your mommy on a daily basis, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm a lucky guy that way." After a steadying breath, Greg said, "My mother was livid and when Jan gets edgy, she's a force to be reckoned with. She looked up your wife and called her." When he saw Jeff tense, he relaxed, "You didn't come out to your wife a few months ago, she confronted you when a guy came to your home looking for the guy he hooked up with in Salt Lake last year. Not that you had any of my respect before, but as of this morning, you were still lying to me and that's…you know, why am I even wasting my breath talking to you?"
"You lied to me this morning too!" Jeff shouted as he chased after his ex-roommate. "You said you were with someone."
"I am." Greg marched down the university's hall, hating the irony of being back at school with Jeff.
"You just said you don't have a sex life."
"I was joking with my boss."
"Keep lying to yourself and playing hard to get, I love it," Jeff needled as they raced down the stairs. "I'm not perfect, I'll admit it. That's why I came here to see you. I need to be rescued from myself. Accept the challenge, make me a better man. You know deep down you want me, just as much as I want you. First love never dies. You loved me and I loved you too, that's why I gave you the watch."
"Screw you!" Greg yelled once they were out of the building.
"I prefer it the other way around." Pulling his ex around the corner of the building, for privacy, Jeff breathlessly said, "But I'll make an exception for you. You can have me any way you want me," he pressed his palm to Greg's cheek, "just have me."
"Okay, here's how I want you." Greg forcefully shoved him away. "I want you on a plane back to Seattle!"
"I know on paper I seem like an ass, but…check this out," Jeff reached into his pocket for the Omega box and when it was snatched out his hands, his heart soared. "It's been in a bag hidden in a shoebox in my closet. Doesn't that tell you something?"
"It should." Greg clicked on the mini-flashlight hanging on Grissom's keys and cracked open the watch box. "Right there. Blood spatter. My blood!" He launched the watch at Jeff's head, happy that he hit him in the third eye. "You were right, it did speak to me. It said 'Run, Greg, run! Because Jeff is a violent, dishonest, pathetic excuse of a man, and he'll never change.'"
"I knew it! You still love me!" Watching his emotional friend storm off, Jeff rubbed the latest bruise on his face and smiled. "He loves me."
"Much better," Sara told her reflection as she stood in front of the mirrored closet doors in her man's hotel room. Staring at the lacey lingerie she had been saving for a special occasion, she broke into a naughty smile. He's going to love this surprise. With Gil's back injury, they had been on a restricted sex diet, but she planned to wow her man with a few less strenuous tricks she knew they would both enjoy.
Grinning, she walked over to the adjoining door between Grissom and Greg's suites and knocked. "Are you ready for your man?"
"Don't you have liquid latex or somethin' to put on, Sidle! Leave me alone and worry about your own damn love life!" Nick was pacing the floor and watching ESPN to calm himself down.
"Wow, these walls really are paper thin," Sara remarked, making a mental note to put a pillow over her face during the critical moment later.
"Are your rose petals spread out yet?" Nick asked through the shared middle door, hoping she'd go through with his idea.
"Just getting to it!"
"Okay, I'm shutting the extra door on my side, because I don't want to hear you gettin' it on. Have fun!"
"You too." She shut the extra door on her side hoping it would provide a little more privacy, and then grabbed a red rose from the dresser. Sliding onto the bed, she giggled like a schoolgirl. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She started plucking. "He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me."
Unable to schedule a massage appointment for that afternoon, Greg decided to return to his room and soak in the Jacuzzi tub for a while like Grissom had suggested. Maybe I'll accidentally drown and be spared the rest of my miserable life. Tears forming in his eyes, he slid the key card into the door. Maybe I'll increase the odds by leaving the blow dryer teetering on the edge of the…
"I hope you don't mind, but I let myself in," Nick quietly greeted his stunned buddy from the center of the room. Just like Sara had assured, he immediately had his answer. Looking into Greg's glassy eyes, he knew he was in the right place, with the perfect person, and ready to begin a new chapter in his life. "Surprised?"
"Yeah, I am." Greg squeaked as he released the door, letting it shut behind him. The way his luck was going, he was certain Nick was there to beat the crap out of him. "Why are you here?" He clutched the handle of his laptop bag like a security blanket.
His heart hammering in his chest, Nick stalled, "Why am I here?" The speech he had prepared and practiced was suddenly gone. "Why am I here?" he parroted as his stomach knotted and flipped. "I'm…I'm here to talk to you."
***
Chapter 21: Courage in a BottleAfter watching Nick stand still as a statue for a full minute, Greg prompted, "For a guy who's here to talk to me, you're not saying much. How did you get in my room anyway?"
Startled by his buddy's voice, Nick jumped, "Sorry, I zoned out for minute. What?"
"I asked how you got in here."
"I flirted with Mandy at the front desk. She's real nice. She grew up in Fort Worth."
"I should have guessed," Greg groaned.
"I told her you were my stepbrother. I said I came here to surprise you at your first big conference, and she let me have a key. After gettin' in here, I broke into Griss's room through the adjoining doors. Sara's next door waitin' to surprise him."
"She's going to be waiting a while, because Griss is meeting with people at the university."
"That's a bummer, because she's good to go." Nick explained, "She drove me here, because I was a little too stressed from the day's events. Did um…Griss happen to mention that I'm on leave and the team's on R&R?"
"I heard it all from Catherine when I checked in this morning," Greg flatly replied, grateful that he had taken a Valium after his confrontation with Jeff, so his edginess wouldn't show as much. "I was worried about you, I still am. I wanted to call you when I heard what happened, and I would have called, but I promised I'd wait for you to call me back, and I'm a man of my word."
"I appreciate you givin' me time when I asked for it." Nick gulped down the latest lump in his throat and walked forward, reducing the gap between them to a few feet. "I used that time to do some thinkin', and then Sara helped me work through some serious issues today. She was a big help actually, I think you're gonna wanna buy her flowers or somethin', because thanks to her, I'm not the same guy who hung up the phone yesterday, not by a mile. Hell, when I used your bathroom here, I caught my reflection in the mirror and I didn't even recognize myself." He chuckled for a second. "I saw your Valium bottle on the counter and helped myself, I hope you don't mind. Some law enforcement officer I am, huh? Conning the desk clerk for a key, breakin' into Grissom's room, and illegal drug use. See, I told you I'm unrecognizable. Thank God the Valium is kickin' in real good, because I... "
"Why are you here?" Greg interrupted in his most vulnerable voice. Staring into his friend's deep brown eyes, he pleaded, "I can't wait any more. Please tell me why you're here, Cletus."
When the nervous man heard the nickname that he always suspected was a stealthy substitute for a traditional term of endearment like honey or babe, he was reminded of Greg's affection. He wants me. Look at him, he's chewing his bottom lip, waiting with baited breath. All I have to do is say I feel the same way and we'll be a couple. Oh my God! I can't do this! In one minute, my entire life could change. But Sara's words echoed in his head and he knew a change was exactly what was needed. 'Good enough is no way to live, I'd say it's not really living at all'. Seeing his desperate buddy's hands trembling, he found the motivation to forge on. My life sucks, so does his. We both need this. It'll be good. Deep down, I know it will.
"Please," Greg begged with his eyes. "I've had a really bad day."
For cryin' out loud, you know the poor guy was moping around the aquarium earlier wishin' he was a fish so he wouldn't be lonely, don't keep him waiting! "Sorry, it's the Valium, I keep spacing. I'm here to answer the question you asked me on the phone. Remember, we were talkin', and you asked me to go to Catalina Island and I said yes, but then you were worried that I was gonna stow girls on the boat and I said no, I wouldn't, because I just want to be with you. Do you remember that conversation?"
"Only every word," Greg replied as his pulse skyrocketed from waiting for the definitive answer.
"Well, you asked if I meant I only wanted to be together on Catalina Island or did I want to be with you in a more general sense…a romantic sense I suppose is what you were asking. I'm here to tell you that my answer is…" Seeing the love in Greg's eyes, he pushed out the word, "No."
"No?" The word smacked Greg in the face. "You came all the way here to tell me no, you don't want to be together in a general, romantic sense?"
"What? No!" Nick rushed to clarify. "No, I don't want it to only be on the trip." Gripping his head, which housed his overtaxed mind, he sighed, "Shit. I got confused. I guess my answer should have been yes, instead of no, because, oh hell, I don't even remember what I said in the first place." Giving up he huffed, "The bottom line is…I want you. I want you on Catalina Island, in Vegas, all the time, generally, romantically, in every sense of the word." Seeing Greg's face explode with excitement, he gasped, "Holy shit, I can't believe I just said that out loud."
"Me either!" Greg lunged for a hug.
"Hold up!" Nick rushed backwards, out of his buddy's reach. "I want you, but not quickly. I want you slowly. Very slowly." He took another step backwards, putting ten feet between them. "Like snail's pace slow."
"I was just going to hug you," Greg sweetly laughed, realizing his buddy thought he wanted to jump him. "I promise, no buttons unbuttoning, no zippers unzipping." When he took a step forward and saw Nick take another step back, he teased, "Look, if anyone should be worried here, it's me and my virgin ass, because I saw Brokeback Mountain, I know what can happen when a guy encourages a repressed cowboy to come out and play. I'm presenting at the conference in the morning, I can't afford to be too sore to get out of bed." As the blood drained from Nick's face, he chuckled again, "All joking aside, what I'm saying is...snail's pace slow is fine with me. We'll handle our physical relationship like we did the phone call, okay? I'll wait for you to make the moves, every step of the way."
"You said, virgin ass, so you haven't…uh…" Even with Valium in his veins, Nick couldn't relax enough to finish the sentence.
"Gone all the way?" Greg kindly put his buddy out of his misery. "With women, yes, but with guys, no."
As hard as it was to talk about, Nick's curiosity forced him to keep asking questions, "So, this is new for you too? Because until this morning, when Sara dragged me out of the closet kicking and screaming, I've never dealt with this part of me. Is that how…"
"No, I've been actively attracted to both sexes since puberty, fooled around equally with both, meaning everything but all the way, but I don't have sex without serious intimacy, and I've never been with a guy I felt that close to." Trying to simplify matters for his flustered friend, Greg summarized, "When I fall for a person, their gender is an afterthought, and for a while now, the person I've fallen for is you. I've been hoping that you felt the same way, so what you just said to me blew my mind." His smile filled the room. "I'm thrilled this is happening, what about you?"
His mind officially reaching maximum capacity, Nick very eloquently replied, "Uh huh."
Uh huh? I just told you I've fallen for you and I'm thrilled and you say 'uh huh'? That's good enough for me! Yesssssss! After a couple of choppy breaths and no noise from Nick, Greg felt compelled to fill the dead air by overtalking, "I can't believe you're still petrified to come near me. Come on, you have to know this isn't about me wanting your ass. If all I wanted was a guy to have sex with, that wouldn't be a problem living in Vegas. That night we went out on the double date from hell, the bartender gave me his phone number. I get propositioned all the time. I could be with a DNA guy attending this conference as I speak. I swear I don't want to jump into bed, I want to take things slow just like you."
In silence, Nick checked off one huge concern from his lengthy mental list of worries.
"Okay, uh…just in case I didn't get you at hello, here's my big Jerry McGuire moment." With his hand on his chest, Greg bared his soul, "For me, my attraction to you is about the friendship we have, the bond we've built for the last eight years, working side by side, getting to know what makes each other tick. It's about how you get me, that you can tolerate me when most people can't, how you even humor my mother, just because you know she's important to me. It's about how you can cheer me up on a bad day like no one else can." Emotion swamping his voice, he continued, "And it's not just about what you can do for me, it's about me knowing that you need someone who understands what you've been through, and what you see on the job. It's about me wanting to be that person who helps make life better for you, by doing little things like cooking your favorite burrito, or making you laugh at the end of a shitty day, or by helping you through bigger stuff, like the breakdown you had this morning, or any family problems that might come up. It's all of that." With a nervous laugh, he admitted, "And I won't lie, it's about the physical too. Every time you invade personal my space, my mind slips into fantasy mode, and dude…you've been invading my personal space a lot lately. I have a mental Top 100 list of things I'd like to do with you, and while some are risqué, most are innocent and fun. Like taking the boat to Catalina Island for example, or watching the sunset from the hammock at my family's vacation house in Maui. The list is always in flux, but currently, as lame as this sounds, the number one thing I want to do with you is relax in your arms while watching TV." His sweet laughter filled the room again, "Because you have been sitting two inches away from me since the day I moved in and I've wanted to close that gap so many times that it's become an obsession. Number two involves me sleeping in your bed, just sleeping, not sex, but I have to be honest," he joked, "that fantasy might have more to do with your deluxe bedding than you."
Blown away by the sentiment behind Greg's words and by the sheer volume of them, Nick stood quietly, struggling to absorb it all. I thought one of the benefits of dating a guy would mean a lot less talking about how we feel. Then he remembered Sara saying that Greg was a much bigger girl than she'd ever be and he broke into a goofy grin. At least he won't get PMS and leave tampon wrappers on the floor.
"So, what do you think about all that, Cletus?" A radiant smile dominating his face, Greg took a step forward. "Still worried it's just about me wanting your ass?"
"No," Nick replied with relief in his voice. "Thanks for takin' off some of the pressure, because this is a really stressful day for me, and the less I have to worry about, the better."
"I can't believe you were worried I'd jump you in the first place," Greg laughed. "Since we're happily drugged and being brutally honest, I'll tell you that I've always imagined our roles in bed would mirror our work roles. When it's just you and me, you insist on driving the Denali and being in charge of the scene, right? Well…"
"Yeah, that's the way it's consistently been in my fantasies," Nick laughed. "I think I just confessed to dreaming about you sexually."
"You did and now I need a second to find my jaw, because it dropped on the floor."
"Ha! Hey, Sara made the same joke about the Denali by the way," Nick laughed with his buddy, happy to be beyond the initial shock of the situation. "The same Brokeback Mountain joke you did too."
"She really helped you out, huh?"
"She was so great." His whole body loosening up, Nick finally relaxed his guarded stance. "Then she tortured me with gay talk the entire drive here. She had a field day. It was worse than sittin' through the health films we had to watch in sixth grade. That reminds me, she wants me to ask if you've always practiced safe sex and when was the last time you were tested for HIV and STDs."
"Wow, she really was thorough," Greg covered his mouth and laughed. "I was an Eagle Scout, remember? So I was always prepared and responsible. I'm happy to report that all test results have been negative."
"Same here. Well, except I was only a Boy Scout," Nick laughed. "Sara will be so proud of me for gettin' that out. I won't tell her about the Valium assist."
"And I will definitely be sending her flowers," Greg said, still dying for a hug, but sticking to his promise not to move first. "I can't believe she got you to come out with one conversation."
"I'm still in shock to be honest, but I know this is the right thing to do, and what I want." Getting serious again, Nick confessed, "Some things, like sex, still seem really wrong when I think about how other people would feel, like my family. They can't know about me, at least not for a while, maybe never, I don't know, but you need to promise me you won't tell."
"I promise."
"Do your parents know about you?"
"They suspected for a while, but I only came out to them recently. That fruit basket my dad sent, that was his way of making sure I knew he still loved me."
"Is that why he sent it?" Nick smiled at the memory. "You were so happy to get it. My dad won't be sendin' gifts if I ever tell him. He'll probably send a registered letter disowning me." Sharply clearing his throat, he said, "I don't want to get down, I want to be happy. Let's be happy."
"Let's!" Greg hoped happy included a hug, but it didn't. "My dad has been wishing we'd get together, because he wants someone to watch sports with when he visits. My parents really like you, so I hope you'll be okay with them knowing, because they'll be supportive and most importantly, they'll let us use their house in Maui as a getaway."
"Seriously? I always wanted to go to Maui. Yeah, we can tell your parents, as long as they don't tell anyone else. I really like Dave and Jan. I got the funniest feeling that your dad was grillin' me like a prospective boyfriend when he took us for steak."
"He was. He gave me a thumbs up after dinner."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation. It's completely surreal." The Valium and the discussion making him dizzy, Nick leaned against the nearest wall for balance. "So, just your parents and Sara, although I imagine Griss is a given now too."
"You okay?"
"Just a little dizzy."
Greg walked over, in case Nick needed a hand. "Grissom knows I'm Bi, but I assured him that you were a ladies man through and through. Maybe Mandy at the front desk can be your beard for the conference," he joked, before sobering. "Speaking of you being a ladies man, we really haven't said what this is that we have here. I'd hope after what I said, you'd know I'm not interested in other people. I know it's kind of weird to be serious, because technically we've not dated, or…"
"Aww." All inhibition removed, Nick boldly took Greg's shaky hand in his. "Are you like askin' me to go steady, G?"
"Did you take one Valium or two?" Greg queried, concerned his buddy was getting pretty loopy.
"Two," Nick answered while holding up one finger.
Greg laughed, "Good thing we didn't want to have sex, because I don't know about you, but chill pills make every part of my body relax."
"Same here, yep." Nick explained, "I packed in a rush and didn't bring my Xanax with me. I figured two of your low-dose Valium was equivalent to my Xanax dosage, but I'm thinkin' it might be a little stronger." Nick sweetly chuckled while grabbing Greg's other hand, "We have a lot in common, G. We're both so mentally messed up from doin' our jobs and almost dyin' that we take anti-anxiety meds for PTSD and insomnia. That's pathetically sweet, isn't it? Maybe we'll cure each other, what do you think?"
"I think there's a chance that we might. I'm looking forward to having someone to snuggle up to when I can't fall asleep at night."
"Oh yeah, yeah, me too," Nick agreed. "I haven't woken up with anyone since the kidnapping. I couldn't risk it, because of the freak outs, but you know all about my problems, so I don't have to worry."
"That's right." His hands laced with Nick's, Greg released a blissful sigh. "Let's hear it for Benzos, because without the chemical assistance, I really doubt we'd be getting this comfortable this fast."
"Hell no," Nick confessed, "I am so relaxed. I feel like I've been gay my whole life."
"You have been gay your whole life, Cletus, you've just never acted on it."
"Right, right." Nick spoke through a smile, "I swallowed my pills with some Jack Daniels I swiped from the mini-bar. Not smart." He slurred, "But after the shit day I've had, I needed to chill, and here I am…chillin' with my boyfriend, holdin' his hands."
"So, I'm your boyfriend," Greg stated while swaying back and forth, getting a little closer to his man's face with each pass.
"Or are you my significant other?" Nick queried as his legs grew weaker.
"I believe that depends on whether or not you think I'm significant. Do you?"
"I do, I really do." Nick murmured, "Do you still want that hug?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Wrapping his arms around Greg's waist, Nick tugged him close. "This feels incredibly weird and normal at the same time."
"It feels perfect to me." Resting his head on his buddy's shoulder, Greg closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scents he loved. "I couldn't stop thinking about the hug at Grissom's yesterday."
"Me either." Nick's eyelids fell and he lost himself in the embrace, successfully blocking all thoughts of impropriety within seconds.
"I missed you last night."
"I missed you too. I went into your room, because I missed you."
"I wore your sweatshirt," Greg stated, as if he were competing for 'most pathetic'.
"I sniffed your pillow…a lot." Nick cringed, "I can't believe I copped to that."
You win! When his boyfriend of ten minutes started gliding his palms over his back, a shiver of delight surged through Greg's body. "That feels nice."
"It does." Surprised that he wasn't at all repulsed by the intimacy, Nick deepened his touch. "I really thought I wouldn't like this."
"I knew you would." Leaving his left hand pressed against Nick's lower back, he slid his right upward until it reached his man's hair. Fingers threading through the dark locks, he was grateful it had grown back, so there was something to grip and tug. "Mmm, promise me you won't shave your hair again."
"Funny you should say that," Nick chuckled into Greg's wavy mop. "After feelin' you run your fingers through it like that, I was just thinkin' there's no way in hell I'm shavin' it again." He clamped his arms tighter. "It's just a friggin' hug, but I think this is the most erotic thing I've ever done."
"Don't let go."
"Don't worry, I'm not." Swaying their bodies ever so slightly, Nick brought his mouth to his partner's ear, "You ever feel as good in another man's arms?"
Greg moved his head, so he could answer while gazing into Nick's eyes, "Being with you is light years away from every other guy combined."
Resting his palm on Greg's flushed cheek, the content cowboy grinned, "Good answer." His eyes drifted to the pair of moist, parted lips directly in front of him. Suddenly what had seemed like an incredibly unnatural desire yesterday when considered out of context, felt like the most natural craving in the world in his future lover's arms.
Foreheads touching, and their first kiss imminent, Greg rasped, "Tell me that you're not going to screw girls anymore."
"Are you the possessive type, G?"
"I'm the monogamous, committed type."
"Me too," Nick confirmed as he gently gripped his significant other's face. "And possessive, I won't be amused if I catch you flirtin' with another guy."
"Why would I flirt with another guy, when I only want you?"
Having what was surely an out of body experience, Nick stated, "No more girls, no more boys. From here on out, it's just you and me."
"Sounds like a perfect arrangement," Greg answered with his mouth an inch away from the lips he'd kissed a thousand times in his dreams. "I promised never to make the first move, but I can still cheer you on." He could smell the essence of Jack Daniels and subconsciously licked his lips, dying for a taste. "Go for it. You know you want to."
The room spinning from the Valium, and his mind reeling from the forbidden passion he wanted to indulge, Nick closed his eyes and blurted the silly thought that popped into his head, "But if I kiss you, I'll be gay."
"Aww, Cletus." Greg brushed his reply over his reluctant partner's lips, "You're gay no matter what you do, the kissing is just a perk."
"You're…right…yeah," Nick answered in a barely audible whisper, just before passing out.
"No, no way! Wake up!" Greg caught his drugged boyfriend before he hit the floor. "Ugh! The moment was perfect." His dreams of a first kiss dashed, he tugged Nick over to the bed. "Why'd you have to take two Valium?" he sadly asked while struggling to get the lifeless body onto the bed. "Oh well, it was great while it lasted." Watching his partner's chest gently rise and fall, he considered stealing the kiss he had been cruelly denied, but opted to wait for a mutual smooch. "You had a busy day, Cletus." Leaning over, he stroked his hair. "Rest up." I hope Sara's having better luck next door.
Three hours after excitedly tossing rose petals, Sara was sprawled on the bed surrounded by discarded snack wrappers and opening her fifth mini-bar rum bottle. He's probably giving his roaches baths and pep talks. With the remote in one hand and a Captain Morgan's in the other, she crashed back against the pillows. The TV channels were better in the no-tell motel in Kingman. Noting the Pay-per-View buttons, she decided to order a movie.
Ooh, The Good Shepard, the promo for that looked good. But in her tipsy condition, she accidentally pressed the wrong buttons. Ugh, I think I just ordered the remake of Charlotte's Web.
By the time Sara finished washing down her last bite of brownie with rum, she noticed a naked woman on TV. "This isn't Charlotte's Web." Squinting, she saw the title was actually Charlene's Web. "I ordered porn." She burst out laughing. I really am a dirty little mistress now. Nick would be so proud.
Tossing the fifth empty bottle of liquid courage onto the bed, she settled in to laugh at the no-doubt ridiculous softcore plot about to unfold. "Pool boy!" It's always a pool boy or a pizza guy. "Think of the germs, bimbo!"
While laughing on the bed, Sara heard the unmistakable sound of Greg yelling out in pain next door. "Sounds like someone just lost his cherry," she laughed into her hand.
Rubbing his bumped head, Greg grabbed the plastic bag draped over the empty ice bucket. Ugh, I already have a knot the size of an egg. While snacking and surfing the Internet, he had bent down to pick up a rolling peanut M&M and forcibly whacked his skull against the sharp point of the desk.
"I'll probably get swarmed by killer bees at the ice machine," he grumbled on his way out of the room.
"Just your luck, pool boy, the bimbo has a friend," Sara droned while opening a pack of powdered sugar donut holes. "Dammit!" Sugar all over her black lace chemise, she jumped off the bed to clean herself up, but froze when she heard the sound of a keycard sliding into the door. Now he shows up, when I look like a slob! "Surprise!" After furiously brushing sugar off her sex-wear, she posed. "Your dirty little mistress is at your service!"
Gil froze at the sight of his significant other posing like a stripper. "Sara?"
Terri Miller, who had given her colleague a ride to the hotel after a good laugh about their awkward parting years ago, was equally stunned. "Isn't that your employee, Gil?" the Forensic Anthropologist queried while surveying the bed covered in wrappers and empty liquor bottles. "Why is she watching porn in your hotel room? And my God, is that cocaine powder on her face?"
"What is she doing here?" Sara asked when she finally got over the shock of seeing her man walking into his hotel room with an old flame. "I need air." Determined not to speak until she was less confused, she grabbed the comforter off the floor, wrapped it around her, and zipped out of the room.
"Aren't you going to go after her, Gil?" Terri prodded. "Or have you learned nothing about women since our last date?" The scientist shook her head, grateful to be happily married for the last three years to a man who wasn't an emotional cripple. "Just give me the copy of Greg Sanders's paper and I'll let you get on with not handling your personal life." During their meeting she had mentioned that she was pulling together a symposium in Vegas and might be interested in a presentation by the man whose paper Gil had raved about.
"It's right over here." Like a robot, Gil walked to the desk and grabbed a copy. "Thank you for the ride."
"Sara?" Knotting his bag of ice, Greg walked over to his friend who was sitting on a bench wrapped in a comforter. "What's going on?"
"Terri Miller," Sara snipped. "She used to date Grissom. She was a bitch to me in the bathroom at the lab, and when my significant other came back to his hotel room just now, she was with him."
"I'm sure there's an innocent explanation."
"Me too," she sighed, "but I couldn't think of one, because I'm a little drunk from emptying out the mini bar when I was bored for the last three hours, so I walked out." Tears formed in her eyes. "Do you have any idea how many germs are on this comforter I have tucked around me? They never wash these things. On top of being embarrassed and confused, I'm probably catching a disease." Glancing up, she saw her friend was holding a big bag of ice. "He really did a number on you, huh? I heard you scream."
"What are you…"
"You have an ass pack, I mean an ice pack." Sara winced, "Did the repressed cowboy go Brokeback Mountain on you? I was worried about that."
"No!" Busting into laughter, Greg explained, "It's for my head. I dropped an M&M and I slammed my skull into the point of the desk. Feel." He leaned over pointing to the egg-size lump.
"Ouch."
"Yeah." Holding the pack to his head, he took a seat on the bench next to his forlorn friend. "Nick took a couple of Valium and passed out."
"He had a really rough day."
"Thanks for helping him out."
"I was happy to help."
Staring at the sailboats gliding by, they sighed in harmony.
"Ms. Sidle!" Terri Miller walked over to the emotional girl who had always given her dirty looks when she visited LVPD. "I'm a happily married woman who wants nothing to do with Gil Grissom. You can have him. The man is as emotionally retarded as they come." Holding up a copy of the paper she had been given she shared, "Gil had mentioned this paper and I wanted a copy of it to see if I could work it into a symposium I'm conducting in Vegas later this year."
"That's my paper!" Greg stood and extended his hand. "Greg Sanders."
"Dr. Terri Miller." She happily shook the man's hand. "Gil spoke very highly of you."
"Really?"
"Yes, will you be at the launch tonight?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, we'll talk more about your paper then." Terri tapped her watch. "My husband is waiting for me, I need to run." Strolling off, she snickered, "Good luck with Gil, Ms. Sidle. You'll need it!"
When Greg saw his boss rushing down the path, he patted Sara's knee. "Looks like he caught a clue and came after you." Standing up, he took great pride in saying, "Hey, Hypocrite! When you're at a Forensics Conference representing LVPD, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your love life private and your lover's quarrels behind closed doors!"
"I knew that was coming," Gil droned.
"Get a room, kids!" Greg gingerly walked away rubbing his ass and groaning for Sara's benefit.
"Mosey along, Jack Twist!" she yelled, appreciating the laugh. "I want privacy when I'm groveling." As soon as Greg was gone, she said, "Sorry, I should have been a big girl and stayed to hear your explanation, but I'm drunk and sugared up, because I've been waiting over three hours to surprise you with my sex kitten routine that Nick coached me on."
"I wondered who gave you the rose petals and porn idea."
"The porn was an accident."
"Surrrre," Gil teased while sliding his arm around Sara's slumping shoulders. "That's what they all say. I think you…"
"What?" Sara asked when her man stopped in mid-sentence. "What's wrong with…" When her words were cut off by her lover's passionate kiss, she gripped the bench in shock. "What has gotten into you?" she laughingly asked when their two minute make-out session finally ended. "I almost passed out from lack of oxygen."
Watching his ex-lover, Lucy Wimberly, turn green with envy as she huffed by, Gil shook his head, "I don't know what came over me. Must be the salt air." He stood and clasped Sara's hand. "Let's get you out of that comforter and under a scalding shower."
"You know me so well." She beamed a smile at her man.
"Why did you come here, Sara?" Gil asked as they strolled down the path holding hands.
"Honestly?" She stopped and gazed into his dreamy blue eyes. "I missed the roaches."
Gil's mouth exploded into a giddy grin. "That's quite possibly the hottest thing a woman's ever said to me."
***
Next part of Where You Are.
- Main CSI page
- The new stories
- Gil/Greg stories
- Gil/Nick stories
- Gil/Warrick stories
- Nick/Greg stories
- Nick/Warrick stories
- Greg/Warrick stories
- Nick/Bobby stories
- Jim Brass stories
- David Hodges stories
- CSI: New York stories
- CSI: Miami stories
- All f/f stories
- Other pairings & threesomes
- Gen CSI stories
- C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation: The Complete Ninth Season
