Title: Worth
Author: sirjimmy24
Pairing: Nick/Gil
Rating: R
Summary: Seeking closure, Nick reviews the Gordon file, and gets quite upset with Gil…
Author's Notes/Warnings: Spoilers for Grave Danger, but nothing else. Nick’s POV. Possible WIP. Not sure yet. Damn bunnies won't go away...
Disclaimer: Do not own CSI. Just playing around.

He never told me.

Why didn’t he tell me?

He should have told me.

Someone should have told me.

No one did.

Bastards all!

I had to find out by reading the damn file. Seeing Kelly Gordon in prison wasn’t enough. It did nothing for me, not really. I thought if I read the file, I could finally close out this god-awful chapter in my life. Put the memory, the pain, that fucking box, all away. Let it all go.

What was I thinking?

Hell, what was he thinking?!

I yelled that at him when I stormed into his office. Demanding answers from the very man whose actions saved my life, but I didn’t care. Not then, I was too enraged with him. With what he did, with what could have happened if he didn’t back away from that sick fuck in time.

“What the hell were you thinking!”

“What? Nicky…” he gasped, utterly stupefied.

I threw the Gordon file on his desk and stood there, seething.

He saw the name of the file. He took off his glasses, got out of his chair and came towards me.

“How could you do that Gil?! You shouldn’t have done that!”

“Please calm down Nick. What did I do?” he asked me.

Without thinking, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him up against the wall-hard. Some of the specimens fell to the floor, the glass jars holding them shattering on impact.

“Don’t act like you don’t know!” I yelled into the now stunned and pained face of Gil Grissom. My actions obviously were unexpected, and I continued my breathless tirade:

“You gave in to him! His ransom! You went to face him! Why did you face him?! Why risk yourself for me?! It wasn’t worth..I’m not worth that!”

I could feel the tears, the tension, the fear and wrath, building within me as I continued.

“You bastard!” I choked out, my hands still on his shoulders. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, he blew himself up and almost took you with him! I’m not worth your life Gil!”

I began to cry then, tears streaming down my face as I looked him right in the eye. “You do all that, and then don’t tell me. You lied, you said you told me everything, when you said Gordon killed himself, you didn’t tell me you were right there when it happened…”

“Nicky, I…” he tried to interrupt, but I wouldn’t let him.

“No! If something happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive myself! You…you’re…you’re worth so much to me, but I’m not worth that…none of that…”

And then, for no reason I could discern, I kissed him. Right there, in his office, pinned to the wall.

Maybe not the most prudent of my choices at the time.

“Don’t ever do something like that again…” I said.

I let him go then, and ran out of his office.

I’m not worth what he did.

I’m not worth him.

I’m not worthy of him.

Though that’s all I ever wanted…

You know, whoever they are, well, they’re right; hindsight really is 20-20.

God I hate them, what a bitch.

There I was, Nick Stokes, age 34, youngest of seven, and CSI 3 storming out of the criminalistics lab at dawn after berating, assaulting, slightly battering, and then, what some would say was sexually harassing, I would say was reinforcing my point-one of my superiors.

Yeah, bad idea all around-except maybe the kissing, that was a deep dark, albeit minor, fantasy fulfilled.

The potential fallout from this little “incident” could be huge, perhaps with me spending a little time in another box…with iron bars on one side. Granted, I don’t think Gil Grissom would do that to one of his friends…not that I thought I could call myself his friend anymore.

Not right then anyway.

Actually, right then, I wasn’t doing much thinking at all. My mind was a whirlwind of anger, frustration and...and something else. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. Not yet.

I had meant only to head outside for fresh air. Reality was hitting quickly, and the little voice in my head told me that I better go inside and perform some heavy duty damage control. It wouldn’t have been too bad, Gris would forgive, and it’s not like anyone else was around to see that little show.

But confusion and anger can make you numb to reality. Being rational is a joke at that point. Ipso facto, before I knew it, I was in my truck heading down the highway, no real destination in mind. Country music-yeah, so what?!- blaring into my ears, wind whipping through my hair.

My brain was shuttling between void of thought, and disturbing images of Griss walking forward towards Gordon, that sick fuck, now and forever, I don’t care if he is dead!, instead of backing away.

My teeth clenched in anger again at what Griss-no Gil, might as well use Gil-did. Who does he think he is? High and mighty Gil Grissom, putting himself in danger like that for a little blip on the radar screen like me.

Why? Why did he do that? For me off all people? But for a few inches, he would now truly be the ghost he likes to consider himself to be. I’m nobody in comparison to him, the weakest link in the chain of the team.

I’m not Greg, the brilliant, energetic rookie CSI, like a puppy you can’t resist showering with attention.

I’m not Cath, beautiful, sharp like a blade, and never afraid to take on a challenge.

I’m not Sarah, dauntless, clever and bold. She pursues her objective relentlessly, and I was sure she’d land Gil eventually.

I’m certainly not Warrick, street wise, and Gil’s shining star from the day I met him.

I’m not Hodges…well, ok, small favors.

I’m Nick Stokes, the man who makes monumental mistakes that the team has to clean up. The danger magnet who brings trouble on those he loves most. The insecure guy who left Texas to try and make a fresh start where no one knew him, where he could be himself, and failed utterly.

I’m ashamed you see. Ashamed of who I know I really am. An aberration, a degenerate that would destroy his family, his life, if he ever went for what he truly wanted. Afraid of what would happen if he ever gave into the desire he’s had ever since he could recognize what desire was.

If he ever tried for the love of one man, let alone any others…the only man who matters in this oft cruel world.

A man who I was sure would never be interested in me, my boss. One who is so far beyond me.

I am grateful to still be alive, but I am ashamed, I am afraid. This makes me a coward, that makes me unworthy. Worthless, and undeserving.

To know the one I love above all others would do something so foolish for someone so undeserving, just filled me with anger at him.

This anger sparked my next coherent thought:

I need to see.

Not too long later, I pulled up to the place. That rundown warehouse on Carney Lane. I parked and stood outside the entrance. All this time later, Police tape still marked the area as a crime scene. Some of the effects from the explosion were visible on the outside, mainly the blown out windows, but for the most part, it was just an abandoned warehouse.

This place…this was it. Gil almost died here.

My hands started to shake and it was difficult to breathe. My vision was blurring, but I needed to see it. See the exact spot where it happened. I prepared to walk inside, but I never noticed the Denali pulling up and parking next to mine.

I didn’t hear the footsteps. Barely felt the warmth of the hand on my shoulder.

It was the voice. His voice got my attention. Gil’s wonderful voice:

“I figured you would come to this place. What’s say we do this together Nicky?”

I could only nod as the tears began to fall.

I wasn't surprised that Gil knew where I would end up after my little performance in his office that morning.

I wasn't surprised when he showed up at the warehouse to go in there with me.

I was surprised when he took my hand and calmly led me inside.

A lot of people think Gil has horrendous people skills, and in a way he does-alright, I concede, most ways- but I like to consider him to be on a totally different plane from us mere mortals, one that is above us, and where a man like him really doesn't have much time for bonding with others, let alone the basic niceties we find so commonplace. So him holding my hand so gently, so supportively, left me somewhat stunned. I could not recall Gil Grissom ever inititating physical contact like that with anyone, let alone me, before. Greg likes to joke that Gil carries latex gloves at all times in case he has to touch one of the living. A joke I thought was sometimes true, until he held my hand, that is.

Together we went inside. I'm not sure what I expected to actually see in there, but it wasn't much. The interior was dim, and smelled musty, despite the blown out windows. The hole in the floor where they found that sick fuck's test coffin and the canine corpse was still there. As was some old rusty tools and what appeared to be a battered desk along the back wall. I assumed it was from the explosion.

No panic, but a tension was in my chest, and I fought to keep my breathing under control as we surveyed the scene. Gil had released my hand, and I slowly walked about, taking it all in. He walked over towards the back wall and stopped, gazing at his feet. I went over to him and looked down as well.

It was a large scorch mark, black as night. I also saw fragments, exactly what, I don't want to know, seemingly fused into the floorboards. I fought down a wave of nausea as I realized that it was the very spot where the sick fuck blew himself up. I looked at Gil then. He seemed remarkably calm, but I could see emotion deep in his eyes. Sadness, rage, and the ever present curiosity that had led him to do stupid things with his safety in the past.

"Why Gil?" I asked him, "Why did you do it?". I no longer cared why Gordon did what he did, but I wanted to know why Gil chose to face him down.

"I wanted you back Nicky," he said simply. "We all just wanted you back."

His answer wasn't good enough. "Why did you risk it? You could've died. I'm not worth..."

"Yes you are!" he answered sharply. "If I had to die to get you back, then I was willing to pay that price Nick, and I would do it all again without a second thought!"

"No I'm not!" I said hotly. "You should never have done it. Not for me! I'm not one of the others! You're too important! I'm nothing compared to you..nothing!"

"You're everything compared to me! When are you going to get it through your head that we care about you? That we want you safe and happy!? That we love you?! That I love you!?"

I began to sob then, emotions I had supressed my entire life rearing their ugly heads, and I couldn't stop them.

"Don't say that! I don't deserve that! Not from you! Not from anyone! I'm a coward! I'm worthless, I'm nobody! You shouldn't have risked your life for a little faggot shit like me!"

Don't know where that came from. I had never told anyone about my preferences, kept it all hidden away, to ashamed to admit it even to myself, let alone my friends and colleagues. One would think the internal alarm we all have that tells us when to shut the hell up would have asserted itself then.

Mine must be broken.

"I'm scum, weak Gil! Dammit! FUCK! I'm not some ladies man. Kristy was the first and only woman! Its all an act! A lie. I'm a worthless cowardly lie! I deserved what happened to me! I don't deserve to live, I don't deserve to have you in my life! You should have never gone to face him! You should have left me in that box to fucking di...!"

I never finished that sentence. I suddenly found myself flying backwards, hitting the floor and gasping in pain. Gil had thrown a wicked right cross and got me beneath my left eye. Who knew he could do that?! To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

At least I stopped with the hysterics.

In a flash he was kneeling by my body, his bottomles blue eyes blazed at me, piercing my soul.

"Stop it Nick. I never want to hear those words come out of you again. NEVER! Are we clear?"

I nodded like a frightened child. His face relaxed and to my utter shock, I saw a single tear fall slowly out of each one of his eyes.

Next thing I knew, I was back on my feet. My face was buried into his shoulder as he held me in the fiercest, most wondrously life affirming hug I had ever received. His words were soothing, telling me how proud of me he was, and that I do deserve to live, I won, I should be happy, that I can get through this. The rest of my life is waiting. Sieze it. That he was here for me.

He was shaking slightly, and I knew he was fighting to keep control of his emotions. Slowly, both of us calmed down.

I made a decision then. Gil was right, as usual, I deserve life, and happiness. I knew one thing that would make me happy, and I was going to go after it.

His hold loosened, and I turned my face upwards towards his. He was looking at me, his gaze tender, filled with what I hoped was love. Love just for me.

I leaned into him, ran a hand through his soft graying hair. The world seemed to slow down as he lowered his face towards mine. My mouth opened slightly, awaiting the feel of his lips on mine. It was like a magic spell. Slowly, close, so very agonizingly close to what I wanted from him right then, then and always.

The sound of his cell phone ringing broke the spell, ruining the moment and made me want to scream out with the frustraton of thwarted desire.

Fucking technology!

Do you recall the X-Files movie a few years ago? Remember that scene where it looks like Mulder was about kiss Scully, thereby satisfying the demands of shippers everywhere? Remember then, how she got stung by a bee and the moment was ruined?

I was in the theater when that happened. A lot of the audience went nuts with disappointment. Some of the girls actually walked out, offended. I found it all highly amusing at the time.

You know, its not so amusing to be in a similar situation.

It pretty much blows.

There I was, being held in the arms of the man I’ve been in love with for so long, about to receive a kiss from him, a kiss from a man known for his focus, his skill, with a mouth that looks like it could do some pretty nastily hot things to a body- especially mine!- when his cell phone rang.

That bastard Ecklie! Him and his damn department meetings!

I wanted to scream and hunt him down for denying me that kiss.

At least I didn’t cry this time.

“I’m sorry Nicky, I forgot about that meeting this morning,” Gil said to me as we walked out of the warehouse. “This is one I can’t skip this time,” annoyance evident in his tone.

I just nodded and kicked at the dusty ground, still pissed at being denied, and cursing fate for the way it delights in taunting me.

We got to my truck first, and I climbed in, grateful I had left the window down.

“Look Nick...” he began, leaning against the door as I buckled up. “I …I was wondering if…I mean if it’s ok…this meeting shouldn’t take too long and… He took a breath, then quickly finished, “Why don’t you go home and get some rest, and I can swing by and check in on you later this morning…I mean not that you need checking up on…its just…”

I couldn’t help but smile at him, and then I looked down towards my feet, feeling a bit shy all of sudden.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” My penchant to blush and be easily embarrassed is well known, so of course it was no surprise when I started to blush right then.

“Ok, good,” he said. The Gil leaned in and kissed me, ever so softly, on my cheek. He kissed me right on the already bruising spot where I felt his fist earlier. He ran a thumb apologetically over it, and then headed towards his truck, got in and drove off.

I smiled the whole way home.

I consider myself to be a fairly well educated guy, always trying to learn new things and all that. I find psychology almost as fascinating as ornithology, which is why I live for the Discovery channel. Actually, I think everyone in a scientific field lives for Discovery channel. Anyway, I like psychology, the enigma that is the human psyche it tries to shed light on.

I’m familiar with the coping mechanisms we adapt after traumatic experiences. We may try to lose ourselves in work, or move away and start over somewhere else. Perhaps champion the rights of victims if we were violated. Maybe we bury it, never to discuss it or think about. Perhaps its all one does talk about. Whatever we can do to get closure and put it behind us.

My therapist, who now seems to be getting a lot of repeat business from me since I came out here to Vegas, has been invaluable with her advice and knowledge.

I doubt she would approve of the kind of coping mechanism I wanted to employ for myself then.

I could just hear her words: “I don’t recommend that at all, he’s your supervisor, the memory is still too fresh…”

Which is why I’m certainly not going to mention this in our next session. No way!

Sitting on my bed at home, a certain song by Marvin Gaye- you know which one- floating through my head, I reflected on that kiss. So gentle, so innocent and sweet, so not enough!

I was aroused then, horny to a degree that would rival a virgin fratboy. I wanted Gil. Wanted him to fuck me raw, make me his. I wanted to ravish him. Wanted to be the center of attention for his eyes, those eyes I could lose myself in. Wanted to feel his body against mine, on every part of me. That mouth, those hands…I wanted it all!

I bet he’s versatile in bed, my mind sang. Something to discover later, as I only wanted to feel him inside of me the first time.

It was sensual torture, what I was putting myself through. I knew Gil was dropping by as soon as that meeting was over, and I had no patience. I was hopeful it would be brief.

It wasn’t.

Three hours…three fucking hours! No rest for the wicked, so I had worked out, showered, and jacked off (twice). Nothing relieved that tension.

I was in the kitchen, consoling a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. I flew to it, saw it was Gil through the peephole, and opened the door, yanking him inside.

“Where the hell have you been!” I snarled to my boss.

“Meeting ran long, Ecklie got on his high horse about something or other and…”

I cut him off with a kiss, this time pinning him to the now closed door.

I was right about his mouth.

That kiss made me ache. It made me moan and growl at the same time. Who knew Gil Grissom was such a great kisser? Not that I’m surprised at all. I wanted to laugh and cry and kiss him forever.

My lust had other ideas.

Gasping for breath I said “Bedroom, now!”

He was dazed, unable to believe what had just occurred. His arousal…well, I could see that plain as day.

“Nick, I don’t think…”

“No! No thinking, think later...I need you now!” I snapped. It shut him up, which was a minor shock in itself.

I grabbed his hand and lugged him towards my bedroom. In one of my fantasies, Gil and I slowly undress each other, playfully... We exchange deep wet kisses, and slowly fulfill our needs with gentle lovemaking.

Again, my lust had other ideas.

With a feral growl, I pulled him onto the bed with me, attacking his lips. Drawing in his tongue, sucking on it, relishing each moan I heard coming from him.

If I had stopped kissing him, we probably could have gotten our clothes off faster, oh well. Of course it wasn’t that long before we were both naked, (Gil really is a stud of a walking wet dream) rutting around on my bed like barn animals.

It was quite a sight I’m sure. My head in his groin, my ass in his face as he lay propped up against the headboard. Me, inhaling his scent, feeling drunk while sucking on his impressive cock, teasing it with my tongue as I rolled his balls in my hand. Worshipping it like it was the holy grail, as if it contained the very nectar of God. His lustful groans telling me how good it felt.

The heat between us was awesome in its intensity, sweat slicking our bodies as Gil proceeded to give me the most incredible rim job ever experienced in the history of man. His masterful tongue swirling around my puckered opening, his fingers alternately opening me up, teasingly stroking my leaking rock hard dick, and every once in a while giving me a nice smack across my backside, making me jolt. I was overwhelmed by the eddies of pleasure coursing through me, halting my assault on his cock only to find myself on my hands and knees, panting like a bitch in heat and clawing at the sheets as he feasted on my ass.

“Oh please Gil! Please…now!” I begged him as he proceeded to mount me like a stallion and slowly slide in. I was hypersensitive to every sensation, every movement Gil was making. When he hit the spot, that wonderful gland, my prostate, I almost lost it. I arched back with a gasp and brought myself up onto my knees. He adjusted his position, but didn’t lose his rhythm. His hands moved all over me, my legs, my torso, unceasing in their skillful maneuvers. His hot gasping breath on my neck drove me deeper into my frenzied lust as I impaled myself blind on his rod.

I could feel my orgasm building, my cock twitching like a divining rod that has found water in the desert. I felt Gil swell up inside me, felt him shudder, heard his cry as he climaxed and that brought me over the edge. I came, devastatingly hard, and cum flew out of me like a pistol shot.

Gil held me close as he slid out of me, and turned me in his arms. He kissed me gently as I came down from my orgasm. Exhausted, shaking, we collapsed onto the bed in a tangled sweaty heap. I nuzzled my face into his neck, tasting him, both of us trying to catch our breaths.

As he wrapped his arms around me, I realized I had never been so sated. I felt safer than I ever had in months, I felt loved.

I felt worthy.

One question remained: Now what?

You know those "relationship" type questions you usually see in Cosmo or other magazines? You know the ones: "How does your lover rate?" or "Is he the one?". Well, I used to think those were a waste of time, and got no end of amusement when I caught Greg actually taking one in the breakroom. He tried to hide it from me, but I was able to grab it. One of the questions was to name five features about a lover that would turn you on and why.

"Her brown hair whipping in the wind?" I asked, quite amused. "Would that be ..uhh..Sarah?"

"Shutup Nick!" he retorted and faster than I thought possible, he ripped it out of my hands and tore out of the breakroom. I took pity on him, as I was fully aware of how unrequited love can make you feel.

Of course, things change.

And of course, you now want to know don't you?

OK, OK, I'll talk: Five things about a lover that would turn me on..actually, five things about my new-hopefully lifelong if I have anything to say about it- lover that turns me on (and there are dozens mind you).

1)His blue eyes. Limpid and soul filled...all seeing...Christ, I could stare at them for days. Unless of course I'm staring at;

2)His hands. Strong yet soft. Forceful yet gentle. Hypnotic in their movements..and my God, the feel of them on my body!

3)His tongue...and what it can do to me...and on me...and in me....

4)His scent. Subtley woodsy. A bit spicy. Sometimes strong-especially after a hot roll in the sheets-but not overpowering. Intoxicating, arousing, and comforting all at once.

5)His heart. For all those sappy romantic reasons I'm not going to elaborate on just now.

I figured these five out a few minutes after I woke up that afternoon. Now, I'm not really a jealous person, but I can be quite possessive, especially when it involves one Gil Grissom. I awoke first. My head resting on Gil's chest, where I could hear his heart beating. My (now) soft cock mashed into his. My arms and legs wrapped around him, clutching him fiercely as he dozed, his hands resting gently on my back.

I smiled, but made no other movement as I did not want to wake him.

"Morning Nicky," said a sleepy voice. I looked into those eyes, twinkling at me. Gave him a smile.

"Morning Gil," I said softly. His hands moved, positioned themselves under my armpits, and gently pulled me up his body. He kissed me deeply, morning breath be damned! making my heart ache with happiness once again.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the room, and I could feel my cock twitching a bit at the prospect of another go in the bed. Alas it was not to be, as we were both due at the lab quite soon. Very soon actually.

Gil realized it to, a look of frustrated longing on his face as we climbed out of bed, and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower together.

I know what you are thinking, and regrettably nothing happened in the shower.

Except that Gil gave me an earth shattering blowjob that resulted in me flailing about so much I accidentally tore the shower curtain.

Oh...and Gil is versatile...and so velvety... and tight.

Maybe that is when I tore the shower curtain....its all a bit hazy.

It wasn't a quick shower and both of us were late to the lab.

If Gil was concerned about what people would say to us arriving late together, and walking a bit funny, it didn't show. Of course, when he heard Catherine ask me how I got red burn marks on my face, he almost lost it with laughter.

The shift went by uneventfully, and in Vegas, that's very rare. You'd think things would have been awkward between Gil and I then, but not at all. There was a comforting ease between our interactions. He made it so easy. Another reason to love him I guess.

Don't get me wrong, I knew we both had many things to talk about. What we did, what it meant..if it was a one time shot or not (hopefully NOT!) and other subjects that should have had me quaking in my boots. But I felt good, a bit horny, but good, and relaxed too.

By the end of shift, my gut told me everything would work out just fine. Gil confirmed this when I met him in the locker room to change out.

"Hey Nicky, got any breakfast plans?" he asked me, almost shyly.

"Only if those plans involve you Gil" I said slyly, with a little heat added to the mix.

He flashed a goofy lopsided smile that made me want to kiss him to pieces as he headed for the exit. "I'll pick us up something to eat, how about we head to my place? Its closer."

"Sounds like a plan," I told him as I opened my locker. "I'll see you in a few...oh, and Gil?"

He stopped and turned around, "Yeah Nick?"

"I love you too."

He chuckled, "Just remember who said it first, Nicky."

Gil walked out the door, leaving me with a surprised grin on my face.

Oh yeah, LOTS to talk about.

The End.

Next story in series - Ira Deorum