
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13672413.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      CSI:_Crime_Scene_Investigation
  Relationship:
      Warrick_Brown/Nick_Stokes
  Character:
      Nick_Stokes, Warrick_Brown, Gil_Grissom, Catherine_Willows, Sara_Sidle,
      Jim_Brass, Conrad_Ecklie, Louis_"Lou"_Vartann
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, written_in_2005
  Series:
      Part 2 of Baggage
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-14 Words: 16153
****** Crossing the Lines ******
by VicXntric
Summary
     Nick gets tossed another “softball” case, but it raises some painful
     issues for him and difficult questions for Warrick.
     Refers to the episode "Overload."
Assignments had already been handed out by the time Warrick arrived for work.
With a philosophical shrug, he resigned himself to a lousy case as the price of
being in a new relationship--a fantastic new relationship. After two weeks of
seeing each other after work, yesterday had been the first time Warrick had
spent the night--well, day--at Nick's.
He had meant to wake up in time to go home for a quick shower and a change of
clothes. Technically, he had woken up with plenty of time to do so, but he
hadn't counted on how tempting and sexy a drowsy Nick Stokes could be. Any crap
case he got stuck with as a result was definitely worth it.
"Hey, Smiley," Catherine said as he met up with her. "You're with me tonight."
Warrick blinked in surprise but fell into step beside her. "What've we got?"
"Two DBs in the desert," she handed him the assignment slip.
Warrick had one eye on the slip and the other on the hallway. When he spotted
Nick just inside an empty lab, Warrick automatically slowed. Nick was chewing
on his lower lip and frowning darkly over the folder in his hand. "What did
Nick get?"
"You thinking of jumping cases on me?" Catherine slanted him an amused look.
"Nah, just curious."
"Well, he doesn't look very happy about it, whatever it is."
Warrick glanced back over his shoulder, then stopped. "I'll catch up with you
in a sec, okay?"
Catherine snorted delicately, "Make it quick. Nicky doesn't look like he's in
the mood to have you ride him about a case, anyway."
Struggling to keep his expression neutral, Warrick merely nodded. "I won't be
long."
She gave him another narrow-eyed look before shaking her head and continuing
down the hall.
Warrick backtracked to the lab. "Hey."
Nick looked up and his frown vanished. "You made it."
"I did," Warrick grinned. "I'm just heading out to a scene with Catherine.
What'd you get?"
The frown returned. "Clean up for day shift. I guess Grissom is still ticked
with me."
"That was a while ago. Are you sure?"
"Three interviews and a report--that's all I've got to do," Nick shot him a
meaningful look. "What would you think?"
Warrick frowned as well. "That's..."
Nick shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it, though. You'd better catch up to
Catherine." He looked back down at the folder.
"See you after shift?"
A hint of a smile played around Nick's lips, but he kept his head down. "Can't.
I'll be interviewing." Another shrug, "The overtime will be nice, at least."
"You'll be here all night, then--til you can get to the interviews."
"Looks like."
"I'll give you a call later."
Nick still hadn't raised his head and he gave Warrick a look from under his
lashes. It was a look that made Warrick want to lock the door and attack him
right there--he actually had to steel himself to keep from going further into
the room. "Catherine is going to be pissed if you don't get going," Nick
reminded him, all innocence.
"Later," Warrick returned, his voice full of promise.
===============================================================================
Graveyard CSIs rarely managed to leave their shift at the allotted time.
Especially not Grissom's graveyard CSIs, who were known for all the doubles
they pulled. So both Warrick and Catherine were glad to have made enough
progress on their case that they could go home with clear consciences--they had
to wait for the LVPD to chase down several leads on their end.
The only regret Warrick had was that Nick was putting in overtime this morning
and they couldn't spend the extra time together. He had called Nick twice--when
he had a few minutes free from the case, prompting much teasing and questioning
from Catherine about his new flame. As he let himself into his house, Warrick
wondered if he should crash for a few hours and then check with Nick, but then
smiled ruefully. "You got it bad, man," he muttered, closing the door behind
him.
Instead, Warrick forced himself to follow his usual after-work patterns. He was
not going to start acting like a high school kid with a bad case of puppy love.
He was going to be cool about this.
The amount of will-power it took not to call Nick was embarassing, but Warrick
managed. He fell into bed just after noon, but only had a bit more than a
hour's sleep before being awakened by his cell phone. "Um..." was all he could
managed when he answered.
"Warrick?"
"Hey," Warrick smiled lazily at the sound of Nick's voice.
"Shit. You were sleeping. Sorry."
"S'okay," Warrick stretched and blinked the rest of his drowsiness away.
"What's up?"
There was a slight pause. "Nothing. Go back to sleep, Rick. I'll see you
tonight, okay?"
Warrick sat up. "Nick? Something wrong?"
"I just...I was hoping to see you." Nick's voice was so halting that for a
moment Warrick thought they had a bad connection. "But you're sleeping,
so...maybe after tonight's shift, huh?"
"No. Hey, you want me to meet you somewhere? What's going on?"
"Could...would I be able to come over?"
Warrick didn't like the hesitancy in Nick's voice. "Jesus, Nick, of course you
can! Was that what the stalling was about?"
"Well, I didn't want to--"
"Where are you?"
"I just turned off Sahara. I'll double back and be there in a few minutes."
Nick breathed a slow sigh. "Thanks, Warrick."
As he was pulling on an old pair of jeans, it suddenly occurred to Warrick that
he and Nick almost always got together at Nick's place. Warrick always assumed
it was because Nick lived quite a bit closer to the department, but now
realized it may have looked like something else to Nick. Normally, Warrick
wouldn't feel comfortable with someone he'd been seeing such a short time
presuming they could just drop by his place at a moment's notice, but this was
different. This was Nick. Warrick knew he could try as hard as he wanted to be
cool about this relationship, but the fact was that he'd gone from a slow free
fall to head-over-heels so quickly it scared him.
That is, it scared him when he had time to think about it. Warrick smiled when
a knock sounded at the door. When Nick was around, he had far better things to
think about.
"I'm sorry about this," were Nick's first words when Warrick opened the door.
Warrick gave him a exasperated look. "Stop apologizing and get in here." He
shoved the door shut and pulled Nick toward him all in the same motion.
Nick relaxed against him immediately and buried his face in Warrick's neck.
"You feel good," he sighed, breathing deeply.
"So much for 'hello,'" Warrick chuckled. He guided Nick's face up to give him a
proper greeting.
Nick jerked back for the briefest moment, but then acquiesced before Warrick
had time to consider the odd reaction. He remained still under Warrick's
attentions, though, apparently content to let Warrick's talented hands do as he
liked.
This wasn't unusual enough to make Warrick pause. Often when they were
together, Nick grew so passive that he was almost submissive. Warrick wasn't
sure whether it was in Nick's nature or if Nick was still uncertain how to
react with another man. It hadn't interfered with their pleasure thus far, so
Warrick didn't let it worry him. He didn't see a reason to let it bother him
today, either, considering the was Nick was arching and moaning under his
touch.
Eagerly, Warrick started on Nick's jeans, anxious to be skin to skin. He'd
managed to slide his fingers under the waistband of Nick's briefs when the
intoxicating haze was suddenly shattered.
With a hoarse cry, Nick shoved him away and stumbled back into the wall. "Oh,
fuck," he choked. "This is sick, this is sick, this is sosick..."
If Nick had slammed a baseball bat into his ribs, Warrick couldn't have been
more shocked--or pained. He stood stunned and breathless until Nick pushed away
from the wall and scrabbled for the doorknob. When he saw Nick trying to leave,
anger surged through Warrick and he grabbed Nick's arm. "What the hell is
this?" he demanded, furious. "This wasn't sick two nights ago when you had my
dick in your mouth!" Anger was so much easier to deal with than the hurt or
loss Warrick could feel brewing in the pit of his stomach. "What the hell did
you come over here for?"
Nick didn't try to free his arm, but held up his other hand to keep Warrick
back. "It's not you--it's me. It's me."
Confusion slowly began replacing anger and Warrick carefully released his grip.
"How can it be you if it's not me?"
Leaning back against the wall, Nick swallowed several times and Warrick saw
that he did look like he might be sick. "It's me. I shouldn't--God, after
what...for me to want anything after what I heard..." He wrapped both arms
tightly around his stomach.
"The interview," Warrick said with sudden realization.
The dark eyes seemed to plead for Warrick to understand. "How can I want
anything after what those kid said? Oh, Christ--" his voice dropped even lower.
"Ever worse was what I knew they weren'tsaying..."
Warrick felt a bit queasy himself with the combination of Nick's case and the
sudden evaporation of anger and andrenaline. "Nick..." he took a step forward,
then halted. "Jesus, Nick."
"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry," Nick thumped his head against the wall and
closed his eyes. "After I finished talking to those kids, all I could think was
that I wanted to see you--I needed to see you--"
Warrick moved forward and wrapped his arms around Nick, relieved when Nick
practically melted against him. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, rubbing long,
soothing strokes up and down Nick's back.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Nick rested his head wearily on Warrick's
shoulder. "It felt good, but then all of a sudden I'd remember and...shit." His
voice thickened, "Dammit, Rick."
Warrick tightened his hold briefly, then released Nick, although he kept
rubbing Nick's arms. "C'mon, let's go sit."
Nick allowed himself to be ushered to the couch sank into it with another tired
sigh.
"C'mon, babe." Warrick didn't particularly want to hear the details of such a
case--no one ever did, but he knew Nick had to get it out of his system. He
knew how such cases made him feel, and being alone with your thoughts during
such a time was rough. He settled one arm along the sofa back and began
massaging Nick's neck. "How bad?"
"Bad." Nick rubbed his eyes. "That is, I'm pretty sure it is. All I had to do
technically, is get the kids' statements and hand them over to the DA. Grissom
basically tossed me a softball..."
"But..." Warrick prompted.
"But some things are really screwy." Nick's jaw tightened, "Single father, two
boys, wife walked out on them last year. Family's really well off, and Dad
hires a nanny to take care of the kids."
"How old are the boys?"
"Nine and seven. According to the file, the father suspected sexual abuse and
took the kids to the doctor. There's nothing in the file about the results of
the exams, but charges were filed on the nanny based on the boys' stories.
Basically, the interviews are just protocol, because the nanny has pleaded down
to 6 months and treatment." Nick's lip curled, "It's a goddamn joke."
Warrick frowned, "Why nothing about the doctor's exams?"
"I don't know." Nick swallowed hard, "God, Warrick, it's like no one gives a
damn about these boys. The father wasn't even there. He's got them a new nanny
and she brought them in."
That set off a multitude of warning bells. "He what?"
"Can you believe it? Would you let your kids out of your sight if something
like that--" Nick's words choked off and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Warrick curled his arm around Nick's shoulders and tugged gently.
Nick settled against him before continuing. "I don't know if the father just
can't be bothered to do more or if there wasn't enough physical evidence to
warrant more serious charges."
"If there was evidence, the DA would likely pursue it whether the father wanted
to or not," Warrick pointed out.
"You would think so. Something's so...off about this, but I can't figure out
what it is."
Warrick was silent while he considered what Nick had told him. "What strikes
you as the most wrong?"
"The boys," Nick's reply was immediate. "Not that they're lying, but they are
definitely hiding something. At one point, the younger boy--Gavin--got upset,
so I asked if they wanted me to get their dad. The fear in their eyes..." he
curled in closer to Warrick. "I'm pretty sure to them, that seemed like a
threat."
Warrick ran his fingers through Nick's hair. "You think it's the father behind
the abuse?"
"No, I'm sure the boys are telling the truth about this--Lana Gardner. But
there's more--I know there's more." Nick gritted his teeth in frustration.
"There's no reason for Services to step in with these kids, since there's
nothing against the father. So the boys don't get an advocate--"
"--because it's assumed the father is looking after their best interests,"
Warrick finished with a sigh of his own.
"But he isn't. No one is."
"And you're going to," Warrick did his best not to sound judgemental either
way.
"I know," Nick lifted his head to meet Warrick's eyes. "I know what you want to
say, Rick. But I can't help it. These boys don't have anyone else."
"And you're hoping to find evidence that will speak for them."
"I'm going to try," Nick's jaw was set.
Warrick wasn't sure how far he should take the conversation. Before they became
lovers, he would have at least played devil's advocate--called Nick on stepping
over the line. All CSIs had called one another on it when someone became too
emotionally involved. It wouldn't have deterred Nick, though, and Warrick knew
it. Instead, he settled for a warning, but an innocuous one. "You were just
supposed to get some final statements. What are you going to do when the DA
starts asking for them tomorrow?"
"Stall," Nick returned promptly. His gaze faltered under Warrick's steady look.
"Are you going to try to talk me out of this?"
"Not much point, is there? You're going to do what you think needs doing."
Nick shifted, straightening away from Warrick. "Look, I can understand that you
don't agree with this--I'm not asking you to. I can go if--"
"Get back here," Warrick pulled Nick back against him.
Nick wrapped his arms around Warrick's waist. "I want to know those kids will
be okay."
"I know," Warrick started stroking Nick's hair again. "Just one thing and maybe
we should drop it for the night."
"Okay."
"See if the new nanny has noticed anything."
Nick smiled for the first time that night and leaned in for a kiss.
Warrick kept it brief, then whispered against Nick's skin. "And try not to get
yourself canned over this."
Nick's smile turned rueful, then disappeared altogether. "I'm sorry, Warrick. I
know--"
"Don't." Warrick really didn't want to discuss this any further--it raised too
many questions that Warrick hated to consider. Like whether he wasn't saying
more because he agreed with Nick on some level or because he didn't want to
anger his new lover. He tried to convince himself it was the former, but
suspected the latter.
He and Nick had clashed many times over emotional involvement with cases
without causing any permanent damage to their friendship. Occasionally it had
been about Warrick, but usually it was Nick crossing that invisible line.
Warrick suddenly realized Nick was staring at him, obviously worried by his
silence.
"Go ahead and say what you want, Warrick." Nick didn't sound angry--merely
resigned.
"I don't want to say anything," Warrick replied. He didn't, really, and it
wasn't just to avoid a possible argument. Nick's big-heartedness was one of the
the things Warrick loved most about him, and he felt that complaining about it
would be hypocritical of him. He met Nick's troubled eyes, "Just--try to walk
softly if you can."
Nick gave the tiniest of nods.
Warrick felt weariness pressing down on him insistantly, and imagined Nick felt
the same, if not worse. "We really should get some sleep."
"Yeah, okay." Nick released him and stood up. "I'll see you before shift then,
right?"
Warrick scrambled to his feet as well. "Whoa, where the hell are you going?"
"Home?" Nick sounded bewildered by the question.
Warrick put his hands on Nick's hips and drew him close. "I thought you'd be
staying here."
Looking painfully uncertain, Nick shifted. "Rick, I can't--that is...this isn't
a good time--"
Warrick cupped Nick's face with one hand, hating all the shadows that still
lurked behind the dark eyes. "Just to sleep, baby. I didn't think you'd want to
be alone. Do you?"
"No." Nick leaned into Warrick's carressing hand.
"No," Warrick repeated, giving Nick a soft kiss before leading him into the
bedroom.
===============================================================================
"Nick!"
Catherine Willows was one of Nick's favorite co-workers, but when she said his
name in that tone, it made him want to duck and cover. Instead, he closed the
Gardner file folder and turned to meet her with what he hoped was a disarming
smile. "Hey, Cath. What's up?"
She ushered him into an empty lab. "I was talking to Warrick."
Nick knew he tended to be an open book, but certainly Catherine didn't think
she could draw him out with such a simplisitic opening line, did she? "Oh?" he
decided it was a safe, polite noise until he found out just where she was going
with this.
"He said you were still working on the same case as last night."
"Um...yeah," Nick managed despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had
been half-hoping she had picked up on his and Warrick's involvement and wanted
to question him about that. Anything but the direction she was headed. "There
are some loose ends to tie up."
Catherine's brow creased with worry. "Nicky, he told me what the case is."
Not trusting his voice at that moment, Nick simply nodded.
"He's worried about it, although he didn't know there were any special
circumstances that could be a problem for you."
Nick's stomach bottomed out. "Did you tell him?"
"No, but I'm sure he realized I have...concerns about you working this alone."
Catherine reached out to lay a hand on Nick's arm, "I wouldn't tell anyone
unless I had no choice, Nick."
"I know." And he did know that. "But you're worried I might give you a reason."
"You tell me," Catherine's voice was soft, but firm.
"I'm just following the evidence."
Catherine's expression said that he hadn't convinced her any more than he'd
convinced himself. "I thought all the evidence had been collected."
"This was overlooked."
"Nick..."
Nick took a deep breath, trying to sound as steady and as reasonable as he
could. "Maybe I'm taking an extra-close look at this evidence, but there's
nothing wrong with that. I'm not breaking any rules or violating any protocol."
Yet.
"But you are stepping on some toes," Catherine countered. "Dayshift's."
"It's hardly my fault if they missed something."
"Just make sure they have missed something before you do anything drastic.
Ecklie would just love another shot at you."
Nick nodded rather than risk saying something that could cause trouble.
"I'm just trying to look out for you, Nicky," Catherine said quietly.
"I didn't know I needed looking out for," Nick returned, prompting Catherine to
pin him with one of her "Mom" looks. He tried again to reassure her--"It's
fine, Cath. I'm fine."
Catherine nodded reluctantly. "If you want to talk, you have my cell number,
okay?"
Nick managed another smile for her. "I appreciate it, even though it isn't
necessary."
Catherine gave him another searching look before nodding reluctantly. "Okay.
I've got to go find O'Riley. Talk to you later."
"Good luck," Nick called after her, just to make sure she knew he was fine.
Alone, Nick glanced around the empty lab and decided it was as good a place as
any to go over his newest notes. He'd managed to ask Natalie Cerrado, the new
nanny, a few questions. She had been reluctant to answer, and even when she
did, it was usually with only a single word. Her reticence should have been
enough to set off more alarm bells for Nick, but oddly enough it didn't. That
was likely because her concern for the two boys had been obvious and seemed
genuine and would Warrick think he was making a bad call on this or not?
Nick growled under his breath, angry with himself for thinking about his
boyfriend when the case should be the only thing on his mind. Then the word
boyfriend clanged in his head, and Nick was unable to think of anything else.
He, Nick Stokes, had a boyfriend.
Technically, anyway.
He doubted Warrick would appreciate the term. It just wasn't his style and
Nick--who wasn't that crazy about the word, himself--didn't want to come across
as too much of a blundering idiot. He knew that he wasn't really blundering or
an idiot--school, college and work records could all testify to that. He grew
up in Dallas--hardly a one-horse town--and was the son of successful,
sophisticated parents. Yet somehow next to Warrick he usually felt awkward and
dull.
Nick was certain Warrick never intended to make him feel like a hick any more
than Grissom meant to make people feel stupid just by being so obviously
brilliant. Nick wondered briefly how often Warrick suffered from self-doubt. If
he did, no one ever knew, because Warrick rarely gave anything away. Strangely
enough, in spite of his poker-face, Warrick was always able to get his point
across better with a single look than Nick could with dozens of words.
It wasn't that Warrick never put a foot wrong, because he did--Nick had even
seen him do it more than once. But somehow, Warrick could make a misstep seem
like the right thing to do. It made Nick think of the cats his sister Virginia
always had two or three of--even when they did something stupid, they continued
to stalk along giving every appearance of supreme confidence. Or maybe a better
comparison would be the giant cats that Nick liked watching only slightly less
than his birds. It was rather apt, Nick decided, because Warrick did tend to
prowl through the Vegas jungle sleek, green-eyed and more than a little
dangerous.
The burbling of his pager jerked Nick from his reverie. Embarrassed that he'd
been mooning like a lovesick teenager, he actually looked around the empty lab
before checking his phone.
Front desk. ASAP.
Curious, Nick gathered his papers and hurried up the hallway, glad to have his
attention forcibly dragged back to the present. He didn't see anyone at the
desk as he approached, but Judy Tremont was beckoning him closer.
"She asked to see you," the receptionist whispered conspiratorially. "She's so
jumpy I though she might bolt. That's why the ASAP."
Nick looked over his should to the spot Judy indicated. Natalie Cerrado had
tucked herself into a corner, almost trying to be invisible. Nick felt a major
break headed his way. "Yes." He flashed Judy a quick grin, "Thanks, Judy."
"No problem," she had already turned her attention to the ringing phone.
Cerrado did look ready to run for it at the slightest provocation, so Nick
tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible when he slowly walked up to her.
"Ms. Cerrado?"
She jumped to her feet as if shot. "Mr. Stokes."
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," her lightly accented voice was shaky. "I waited until Mr. Russell was
asleep. If he knew I was here..."
Nick raised his eyebrows, "Do you feel you have reason to fear Mr. Russell?"
Cerrado didn't answer. Instead, she looked uneasily up and down the hall at the
CSIs and lab workers moving about.
"We can go into an interview room if you'd prefer," Nick gestured to the door
just down from the front desk.
The nanny agreed with a nod and allowed Nick to usher her into an interview
room where she immediately sat down at the table.
"Can I get you anything?" Nick remained standing for the moment. "Coffee?"
"No. No, I can't stay long. If Mr. Russell finds out I'm here..."
"If you need protection, I may be able to--"
"No, no," Cerrado watched her hands twisting on the table as if they were
separate creatures. "I'm illegal," she finally blurted.
Nick nodded, not that surprised. "I'm not INS," he said casually. Then
truthfully added, "I'm not interested in reporting or deporting you. But I take
it Mr. Russell knows this?"
"Yes."
"Possibly part of the reason he hired you," Nick mused.
"Look, I don't want to be deported, but I don't want to go through life having
thrown those children to the wolves, either."
"The wolves? Plural?"
"Wolf, then. I meant the father. Although that bitch he had working before sure
as hell wasn't nanny material, according to the boys."
Nick's eyes widened. This was a surprise. "The boys confided in you?"
"Yeah," Cerrado scoffed. "Like those kids are going to trust another nanny. No,
I overheard them talking a few times."
Nick would have loved to be able to record this conversation, but he knew
Cerrado would never have talked if she suspected it. Instead, he settled for a
notepad and pen. "Okay, Ms. Cerrado. What did you overhear the boys talking
about?"

                                    *******
Forty-five minutes later, Nick settled himself in front of a computer in the
tech lab with five pages of frantically scribbled notes beside him. Getting
Cerrado to stay even that long had taken all the charm and coaxing Nick could
summon. The first thing he did was type in the name Sabrina Russell for a
general search. Dayshift had no information on her in the file other than to
note she had walked out on her family the year before. Nick supposed that,
technically, the mother's whereabouts weren't pertinent to the case and
therefore not of the greatest importance, but it just didn't jibe with what
Cerrado said about the carefully kept baby books in a distinctly feminine hand.
Or the way she heard the boys talking about their mother. It did, however, fit
in with all the arguments Cerrado would hear the boys recounting in whispers.
Nothing turned up on Sabrina Russell in Nevada or the immediate surrounding
states.
Nick stared at the dead end screen for several seconds before trying something
else. Phone records for the Russell home had been ordered but also never used
because Gardner confessed before it was necessary to investigate further. Now
Nick pulled them up and although nothing seemed out of the ordinary for the
most recent month, before that there were a multitude of calls from a single
number in Boulder City.
Going over what Cerrado had told him, Nick already had a good idea of whom that
number belonged to. According to Cerrado, Gavin--the younger boy--was always
asking his older brother why "Gram and Gramps" hadn't been to see them for so
long. Jonathan would reassure him-- "Dad won't let them right now, but Mom said
we'd be going to live with them."
Dad won't let them...
Nick took the name that corresponded with the number--Thomas Dennings--and
entered that for a general search. Immediately he got a hit in the Family Court
records.
"Thomas and Vivian Dennings..." Nick muttered as he wrote. "...visitation
rights...maternal grandparents..." He frowned slightly when he saw that the
petition had been withdrawn, but was being held for refiling at a later date.
Jotting down the Boulder City address with one hand, he used the other to pick
out the name Sabrina Dennings on the keyboard for a search.
For a moment he thought he would hit another dead end, but then an account at
the Nevada State Bank flashed onto the screen. There had been no activity for
over a year, and Nick knew he needed a warrant to get any more information. If
the mother had intended to walk out on her family and not leave any information
on her whereabouts, surely she would have closed her account first.
With a sigh, Nick looked over all the information he had amassed and tried to
decide on his next move. There was really only one choice, so Nick quickly
reassembled the file folder and headed for the board. Scrawling in his expected
location and hours for the next day, he then clocked out at the front desk.
On his way toward the door, he dialed Warrick's number, then frowned when he
heard the electronic trill in his uncovered ear. Glancing to his right, he saw
Warrick in the layout room, opening his cell. "It's me," Nick walked into the
lab, holding up his phone.
Warrick gave him an amused look before closing his phone. "What's up?"
"I was just going to let you know I'm going off-shift. I've got to go to
Boulder City to do an interview today and I don't want to log any overtime on
this."
"Same case?"
Nick forced himself to meet Warrick's steady gaze. "Same one."
Several almost-expressions filtered over Warrick's features, none of them
remaining long enough for Nick to identify.
His heart thudding painfully, Nick remained silent, waiting for Warrick to say
something.
After a few more seconds-- "I have overtime on my case, so I won't be seeing
you until our next shift."
Nick nodded, wishing Warrick would say whatever it was he thought about Nick's
action. "I'll... yeah, I'll see you next shift, then." Any mention or sign of
their relationship wasn't possible at work, so Nick made himself stay where he
was and keep his goodbye merely friendly. "Okay, so...talk to you later, then."
He turned to go.
"Good luck." The warmth in Warrick's voice helped melt the iron band that had
begun to tighten around Nick's chest.
===============================================================================
Nick arrived for his next shift an hour early. Bleary-eyed and with the
beginnings of a vicious headache, he was nonetheless eager to apply what he had
learned in Boulder City.
Thomas and Vivian Dennings had been so desperate for news about their grandsons
that they had practically interrogated him. Nick had told them what little he
could and in turn, they willingly answered every question he put forward. Even
taken with a grain of salt, their answers left Nick with several new leads that
he was anxious to explore.
The problems came during the half-hour drives to and from Boulder City, leaving
him unable to sleep when he did finally fall into his bed. Sixty minutes of
trying to think about the case but worrying about Warrick's opinions instead.
As far as Nick was concerned, managing to attract Warrick's interest was the
luckiest thing that had happened to him since he'd moved to Vegas. Warrick's
charisma was so electric that the air fairly crackled around him, so Nick
didn't doubt that Warrick could have nearly anyone he wanted with little more
than one of those intense looks of his. That he seemed to want Nick was both
baffling and frightening to the Texan. Especially terrifying for Nick was the
risk of him being unable to hold Warrick's attention--of becoming more
troublesome than he was interesting. Going overboard on a case like this when
the relationship was so new was not a good idea, but Nick couldn't help
himself.
"Nick?"
That particular voice always had Nick scrambling to organize his thoughts as
quickly as possible so that he could provide an intelligent answer to any
question Gil Grissom might pose to him.
"Could I see you in my office?"
For a brief moment, Nick considered saying "sorry, too busy," just to see what
his boss would say. He did no such thing, of course, because it wasn't a real
question. Instead, he followed Grissom into his office and sat down, feeling
like a kid in the principal's office or, more aptly, one of Grissom's bugs in a
jar.
Grissom sat down behind his desk and regarded Nick calmly. "Ecklie was by to
see me," he said conversationally.
Nick winced. "That must have been fun."
"He wants to know why there's a hold up on the Gardner case."
"Ah...yeah. I'm not quite finished with the investigation yet."
Grissom tilted his head slightly. "You weren't supposed to investigate, Nick.
You were just supposed to interview the boys and hand the case back to
dayshift."
"I know, but I started...double-checking some things."
"And you found evidence of something more serious?"
"Er...no."
"Evidence that Lana Gardner is innocent?"
"No."
"Evidence of an accomplice?"
"No," Nick tried unsuccessfully to think of a more intelligent, involved way to
answer.
Grissom didn't ask anything else, merely fixed Nick with a questioning look.
Nick sighed. "I don't have anything concrete yet," he admitted. "But the wife
doesn't seem like the type to walk out on her kids, even if she was having
problems with her husband." Wishing for his notes, he went on, "The
grandparents said she was planning a divorce and Russell hasn't allowed them to
see the boys since--"
"Nick," Grissom's voice wasn't any sharper than normal, but it made Nick stop
speaking immediately. "Do you have any evidence in the case against Lana
Gardner?"
"No," Nick admitted reluctantly.
"Why did you investigate further then?"
Nick took a deep breath and braced himself. "First tell me why you tossed me a
case like this. One that is barely more than clean up."
Grissom blinked in bemusement. "It came to us via the Sheriff. Apparently
Ecklie pulled the CSI working it to put him on a higher profile case."
"But why me?"
"I knew you'd do your best to keep the stress on the boys to a minimum,"
Grissom said candidly. "And of the entire team, you conflict the least with
most of the dayshift."
"Oh." Nick didn't know what else to say.
"During their interview," Grissom was back on topic. "Did the boys say anything
to contradict any previous statements?"
"No," Nick felt defeat looming. "Not exactly."
"What exactly?" Grissom leaned forward slightly.
Nick knew that if he could quote one of the boys as implicating someone else,
Grissom would let him stick to the case. Unfortunately, he couldn't without
outright lying. "It's just that the boys...I don't think they're telling me
everything they know."
"What makes you say that?" When Nick didn't reply, Grissom sighed. "A feeling,
Nick?"
Nick knew Grissom didn't accept gut feelings as evidence, so he grasped at a
final straw. "Lack of a doctor's report. Why isn't there one?"
"It wasn't necessary after Gardner agreed to a plea," Grissom countered with a
frown. "A plea which can still be with withdrawn and probably will be if Ms.
Gardner's attorney gets wind of this delay."
"Gris, those kids are still afraid of something."
"Those kids may still be traumatized, Nick," Grissom's voice was understanding.
"Their statements need to be on file, but fortunately aren't vital to the
case."
Nick tried to think of something else, but knew that he had no evidence that
Grissom would find acceptable. So he remained silent.
"I know you want to do right by those boys, Nicky--that's why I let you run
with it for an extra day," Grissom smiled slightly at Nick's surprised look.
"But it's time to give the case back to day shift." He held out an assignment
slip. "This ought to keep you occupied. It just came in."
Nick took the slip. "A 918?" He struggled to recall the unfamiliar code, "Isn't
that...a missing mental patient?"
Grissom nodded.
His stomach suddenly leaden, and his mouth dry, Nick barely managed. "Nigel
Crane?"
Grissom blinked in confusion, then his eyes widened in alarm. "No, Nick. No, of
course not. I'm sorry, that never even occurred to me."
Nick did his best to shake off the sudden chill that had enveloped him. "Oh.
Okay." Nigel Crane notwithstanding, something like this was just odd enough to
normally pique Nick's interest, but right now it seemed a rotten reminder and a
lousy inconvenience.
"It came in five minutes ago," Grissom gave Nick a hard look. "Detective
Vartann is already on the scene. But, Nick, if this is a problem, I can--"
"I'm on it," Nick assured him easily, cheered to hear it was Vartann. He'd been
meaning to track the detective down tonight, anyway.
"Okay," Grissom nodded. He turned his attention back to the jar of beetles on
his desk. Obviously, as far as he was concerned the Gardner case was settled--
all the evidence in.
Try as he might, Nick couldn't convince himself of the same thing.

                                    *******
Twelve hours and one recovered missing person later, Nick was back at
headquarters and going over the Gardner file again. He'd related the case to
Vartann, who had originally been assigned to the case. Vartann was much more
willing to follow a hunch than Grissom and readily agreed to check out the
mother's bank account and several other facts that still didn't sit well with
Nick.
Knowing there was nothing else to be done until he heard back from Vartann,
Nick forced himself to set the file aside. He decided instead to fill Grissom
in on the 918 and see if anything new had come up before heading home for the
day.
Day shift had arrived for work about two hours before and Nick nodded to some
of them as he made his was down to Grissom's office.
"Stokes! I want to talk to you!"
Nick turned to see one of Ecklie's favorite CSIs, Lee Travis, storming toward
him. Nick knew what Travis wanted to talk to him about and briefly considered
making an excuse and moving on. Nick stopped where he was and waited, his hands
hooked at his belt.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" Travis demanded, his lean form fairly
vibrating with anger. "I just got a call from the DA. He wants to know why he
doesn't have the rest of the file for the Gardner case."
"Because I'm not finished investigating," Nick kept his voice calm, know that
it only infuriated Travis further.
It worked. Travis' face turned red. "It's not your investigation, Stokes. You
were just supposed to finish up for me."
That caused Nick's temper to spark. "I wasn't doing anything for you, Travis.
My supervisor handed me a case and I'm working it."
"Your supervisor," Travis practically spit the word. "Was supposed to hand you
two kids to interview."
Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed several people had stopped to watch
them. "I thought there were a few things that required further investigation,"
it was a struggle now to keep his voice even.
"Further investi--" Travis' face went from red to a deadly white. It made the
man's stark features look even colder. "Are you saying I can't do my job,
Stokes?"
Nick knew he was entering dangerous territory, but was in too deep to turn
back. "Shouldn't your first question be--'What could I have overlooked?'
Shouldn't you be concerned that you didn't do everything to protect those
boys?"
"Hey, go work for Family Services if that's what you want. I did my job."
"If you'd done your job," Nick fired back. "I wouldn't have so many loose ends
to check."
"Our job is to get the evidence to put the crooks away, Stokes," Travis poked
Nick in the chest to emphasize his point. "I did that."
Nick knocked the hand away. "Our job is to get the evidence that speaks for the
victim! And you can't be bothered to do that unless it advances your career."
Then Nick felt slim but strong fingers encircle his arm and tug gently. "Come
on, Nick," Sara's voice cut through the angry buzz in his ear. "Just step
back."
Ecklie had guided Travis in the opposite direction.
"Nick?" Sara was watching him warily.
With a tight smile, Nick gently freed his arm from Sara's grip. "I'm fine,
Sara. I'm done here for today though."
Sara nodded her understanding, then gave Nick a warning look when Ecklie
addressed him.
"Before you go home, Stokes," Ecklie managed to sound both pissed and smug. "Be
sure you drop the Gardner file off at the DA's office."
Nick didn't acknowledge Ecklie's words, he merely gave Sara a short, jerky nod
of goodbye and headed for the door.
Behind the wheel of his Tahoe, Nick forced himself to calm down. He knew it
would be a bad idea to drive when he was still so angry and frustrated--he
didn't need anything else going wrong today. Then he recalled that he'd been on
his way to see Grissom and debated going back inside for all of a split-second.
He really didn't want to see Grissom right now. He didn't want to see anyone
right now.
Except maybe Warrick.
He recalled waking up for work two nights ago in the warmth and security of
Warrick's arms and suddenly wanted that more than anything. He wanted those
long, lazy kisses and talented fingers to soothe away all the anxiety that
seemed to be pressing down on him. Nick had his phone out and was ready to
dial, then just as quickly slapped it down on the dashboard. Warrick had
already dealt with more than enough of his crap from this case.
Catherine had been right--this case was tying him in knots, but he wasn't going
to risk the best thing in his life right now by inflicting his stress on
Warrick.
Now feeling more defeated than angry, Nick decided it was safe enough to drive
home. He had a fifteen minute drive in which to prepare himself for an empty
bed and another restless sleep.
===============================================================================
Dusting for fingerprints at the burglary he'd been handed, Warrick barely
managed to suppress a sigh of exasperation. Stuck at the scene for two hours so
far with probably another two to go, all he really wanted to do was find out
what was going on with Nick. He smiled wryly, acknowledging that normally going
two days without seeing a new love interest was not a big deal--especially not
in his line of work--so the fact that he'd been missing Nick like crazy was
only more proof of how bad he had it.
That was even before he heard about Nick's run-in with Travis and Ecklie. There
had been no shortage of people ready to tell him--or anyone else--what
happened. But since most of those people were day shift, Warrick hadn't
believed it until he got it straight from Sara.
Catherine seemed quite worried about Nick as well, and Nick should have had a
major interrogation on his hands when he came in to work. Nick, however, only
showed up when Grissom was handing out assignments and then hurried off again.
There was only time for the smallest small talk with his teammates, which
Warrick supposed was deliberate on Nick's part.
So Warrick had at least two hours to think of a way to tell Nick--for real this
time, chickenshit--that he needed to back off the Gardner case. He would have
already had this out with his buddy Nick, but he was still wary of broaching
the subject with his lover. The fact that he'd never seen Nick get in quite
this deep with a case only made Warrick more leery about it.
When he was finally able to pack up his kit and head back to the lab, Warrick
was no closer to a decision. He just hoped that when he saw Nick again, he'd
somehow know what to say. His lips twitched into a half-smile when it occurred
to him that when he saw Nick again, talking would probably be the last thing on
his mind.
Once at the lab, Warrick dropped off some samples with Greg, then decided to go
back to the locker room to change.
"Look, just come with me to double check the scene, okay? I really need you to
stay with me."
Warrick stopped in his tracks at the sound of that voice. He would have
recognized it as Catherine immediately except this person was pleading and
Catherine never pleaded. Hell, Cath rarely even had to ask to get people to do
things.
"You don't have to process the scene if you don't want to. You can just sit in
the truck and catch a nap. I just want you there with me."
What the hell? Warrick was about to volunteer to go with Catherine himself, but
the next voice froze him to the spot and chilled his blood.
"No, Cath. I'm outta here."
There was such fury and pain and despair in Nick's voice and Warrick realized
that Catherine didn't want Nick with her for her sake, but for his. As if to
confirm this, Catherine spoke again, "Nicky, please. I'd feel better if you
were with me. I know this goes beyond just the case."
"Don't, Catherine." Now Nick's voice was pleading.
"Just--don't say that again, okay? I know Gil was rougher on you that usual,
but--"
"He wasn't. He was--" Nick voice caught. The sound made Warrick's chest
tighten. "No. I'm sorry, but no."
"Nick...sweetie, just...don't leave right now. You're so upset--"
A locker door slammed. "No. I'm done, Cath."
Warrick braced himself when Nick appeared around the row of lockers, but Nick
stormed right past, his face frighteningly white and his eyes glazed. Warrick
knew Nick hadn't even seen him.
It took several moments and Catherine's voice to shake Warrick from his stunned
paralysis. He started to go after Nick, but instead nearly collided with
Grissom.
"Good, you're both here," Grissom looked more preoccupied than usual. "Brass
just called in with a triple homicide at the Lucky Seven Motel. I need everyone
there."
"Nick left for the night," Catherine's voice held a faint accusation.
The muscle in Grissom's jaw twitched and one corner of him mouth tucked
downward. "No need to call him back if he needs the time," he finally said.
"But I'll need you both at the scene."
"We'll meet you there," Catherine took the assignment slip.
Grissom nodded and left the locker room. Everything had happened so fast the
Warrick was still trying to process the fact that he would not be going after
Nick at this moment. "What the hell?" was all he could manage.
"Come on," Catherine tugged on his arm to get him moving. "I'll tell you on the
way."
Warrick followed her to the Tahoe, for once not insisting on being behind the
wheel. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded again.
Catherine sighed as she pulled out of the parking lot. "You know the case
Nick's been working?"
"The nanny? Yeah." Warrick hoped he sounded normal in spite of the sinking
feeling in his stomach.
"He went way over the line and tonight Grissom pulled him up short--really
short."
"Dammit," Warrick clenched his teeth.
Catherine shot him a considering look, then focused back on the road.
"Apparently, Nick was told yesterday to hand the file over to the DA by Grissom
and Ecklie."
Warrick closed his eyes in resignation. "But he didn't. Shit."
"Grissom called Nick into his office and--" Catherine shook her head unhappily.
"He was as close to screaming as Grissom ever gets, although no one could make
out what was said."
"Oh man."
"Nick came out and went straight to his locker. When I found him, he'd already
emptied it."
Warrick's stomach bounced back up to practically lodge in his throat. "Emptied?
As in--?"
"I'm still not sure how serious he was--is, or if it's just because he was so
upset." Catherine turned off the main drag to the seedier part of town. "I
think I talked him out of quitting right away." She gripped the steering wheel
tightly, her knuckles white. "Damn, I knew I should have taken the case off his
hands."
"Why?" Warrick knew he was missing something in this area--he'd had the feeling
before. "You mentioned that when I first told you about it."
Catherine flicked him a look. "These kinds of cases tend to be extra hard on
Nicky."
Warrick could tell that was all she was going to say about that, so he went
back to their original subject. "Do you think he's okay to be alone?"
"I think he's better off at home right now," Catherine replied. "At least he
can't quit from there, and hopefully he can calm down." Then another possible
meaning struck her. "Warrick, you don't...you can't mean Nick would--do
something desperate."
Warrick hadn't thought of that. He'd been more concerned with Nick confronting
the father, but now he felt a spike of very real fear. "Nah," he said to
reassure himself as much as Catherine. "That's just not Nick. But maybe I
should swing by. You could let me out and I could take a cab--"
"Bail en route to a crime scene? Warrick, have you lost your mind?"
Almost, Warrick rubbed his forehead.
"Grissom's already pissed beyond words, this would--" she caught herself and
lowered her voice to its normal level. "Look, try Nick on your cell. You can
keep trying from the scene when you get the chance. As soon as we can, I'll try
and arrange it so you can bail."
Warrick already had his cell out, but he hesitated and gave Catherine a
speculative look.
Catherine's lips twitched. "What's up, Warrick?"
"Did Nick tell you...uh, anything?"
"Not with words," Catherine's smile escaped. "And he hasn't let on a whole lot
more than you have."
"What?! I've--oh shit."
Catherine laughed, although it was a bit shaky. "Don't worry, you guys haven't
been obvious. I've just been watching for the signs for a while now."
Warrick felt a wry expression twist his lips. Hardheaded scientist, yes, but
Catherine was also capable of intuitive leaps that would have driven Grissom
nuts. "Hell, you probably knew before we did."
"Probably," Catherine agreed easily. Then she sobered again. "I think you could
be good for each other, but I just hope you know what you're getting into,
Warrick."
Warrick wasn't sure how to reply to that.
"Some people hide stuff by being completely open," Catherine reminded him as
she pulled up to the Lucky Seven.
"You trying to scare me off?"
"No. But I also don't want to see either of you hurt."
Warrick nodded before getting out to show that he got the point. He started
dialing and listened to Nick's number ring while he opened the back of the SUV
to get their kits.
Another two hours and innumerable attempts later, Warrick still hadn't reached
Nick. Normally at a triple homicide, Warrick would never dream of making a
half-dozen personal calls, but this scene was remarkably straightforward--so
far. All their vics had tattoos of gang insignias and Warrick recognized one as
a well-known dealer. While the CSIs still did their jobs well, some of the
pressure was off. The three young men were victims, but they weren't exactly
innocent.
So although no one took shortcuts, it was all about double-checking instead of
triple- or quadruple-checking. Warrick wasn't the only one distracted, either.
Catherine checked in several times to see if he'd reached Nick, and Grissom was
no where near as intense as usual. Only Sara worked with her usual level of
concentration and right now Warrick envied her that.
Finally, the bodies had been taken by the coroners and most of the scene was
processed. When Grissom told he and Catherine to haul the majority of the
evidence back to the lab, Warrick had to struggle to keep his expression
neutral.
Catherine flatly refused his offer to drive, but she didn't exactly dawdle
herself. When they got back to the lab, Warrick deposited the evidence at
ballistics and trace. Catherine was waiting for him outside the DNA lab.
"There's only half an hour left in the shift. I'll cover for you."
Warrick didn't waste another second. He headed for his jeep and pulled up to
Nick's place in record time. He knocked on the door and when that didn't elicit
a response, he pounded on it with the side of his fist. "Nick!"
The door opened. Nick was drawn and pale but managed a tiny smile of welcome
for Warrick.
"I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours."
"Sorry," Nick replied. "I turned both phones off."
"So you don't want company?"
"Depends on the company." Nick stepped aside to let Warrick in.
Warrick stalked into Nick's house, his fear and worry having coalesced into
anger. When Nick shut the door, Warrick grabbed him by the shoulders and held
him in place against it. "What the hell are you doing?"
Nick reached up to cover Warrick's hands with his own.
Thinking Nick meant to remove his hands, Warrick tightened his grip, still not
enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. "You're not quitting."
"I haven't decided that yet." Nick curled his fingers around Warrick's wrists,
holding on rather than trying to move them.
Warrick's anger didn't last long--it never did, with Nick. Especially not once
he noticed that the shoulders under his hands were slumped, the dark head was
bowed and the voice sounded dulled rather than drawling. Exhaustion was visible
in every line of Nick's body and Warrick knew it was more mental and emotional
than physical. "Jesus, Nick, what happened?" He tried to catch Nick's eyes.
"How did it get so out of hand?"
"I didn't give up the case when they told me to," Nick kept his gaze on the
floor. "I thought that with just one more day--" He shook his head, "I guess
the DA went to Grissom, mad as hell. After he left, Gris paged me to his
office."
"And?"
"And what?" Nick shrugged. "Grissom tore a couple layers of skin off me. Gave
me the whole speech about emotions versus evidence, which I already know."
Slight indignation had crept into his voice. "It's not that I don't know it.
It's just--it was worth the risk...it seemed worth the risk."
"I know," Warrick squeezed Nick's shoulders again, but with the utmost
gentleness.
"I don't remember everything he said, but I do remember him saying he ought to
bust me back down to a CSI2."
Warrick was beyond words for several minutes. "Can he even do that?"
"I don't see why not," Nick's voice was low but steady. "If he believes I've
given him reason. And obviously I have."
"No wonder you wanted to quit."
Nick lifted his head, "That's not why I--" He stopped at Warrick's surprised
look and dropped his eyes again. "I mean, it would be disastrous for my career,
but other people have had to work past worse and done okay. It's always
possible to--"
"Nick," Warrick cut him off. He knew how much Grissom's respect meant to Nick,
and if the prospect of losing it wasn't enough to make him consider quitting,
Warrick couldn't imagine what would. "Catherine said you were talking about
quitting."
Up until now, Nick had been still under Warrick's hands, but he began to shift
as if preparing to break away. "I don't--" his voice wavered. "I've been trying
not to think about that."
Warrick stepped closer, pinning Nick against the door with the length of his
body. "C'mon, Nick, talk to me."
"Grissom said--" Nick swallowed hard, then started again. "I've never seen him
so...he said that they might have to cut Gardner loose. And that if they did, I
had a part in any other kids she--" his voice thickened and he couldn't
continue.
Even knowing Grissom had only said what he did because he himself was so upset
didn't stop Warrick from feeling a twinge of irritation toward his boss. "No
way," he took Nick's face in his hands so Nick had to look at him. "You know
that isn't true. Grissom was just pissed off when he said it."
"But he's right. If I hadn't--"
"He isn't right," Warrick felt suddenly frustrated at the familiarity of this
situation. "Dammit, Nick, you have got to stop taking responsibility for what
the criminals do."
Nick closed his eyes. His long lashes were spiky with moisture even though
there were no visible tears. "I know this sounds pathetic, but I only wanted to
help those boys."
"Why is that pathetic?" Warrick pressed his lips to Nick's forehead briefly.
"It's not." It's one of the things I love about you, he almost said, but
managed to stop himself.
"I'm so damn tired of this."
"Of what?" Several of the knots inside Warrick loosened when Nick wrapped both
arms around his waist.
"Of being the screw-up," Nick's voice had an edge to it. "I work my ass off at
my job, I try to treat people right and somehow I always end up doing the wrong
thing or the stupid thing or just--"
"Jesus, Nick..." Warrick was dismayed to hear Nick felt this way--that this was
obviously more than just his recent cases. It was often bantered among the
graveyard shift that Nick always seemed to catch the rough breaks and Warrick
had even heard some of the detectives they worked with joke that they felt
extra-safe working with Nick because if there was trouble, it would find Nick
first. He'd never heard anyone imply the bad luck was Nick's fault. "I'm not
sure this is the right thing to say to you right now, but I'm pretty sure
you're wrong."
Nick let out a startled laugh and Warrick felt a couple more knots loosen.
"I think you're the only one who sees it that way, Nick." Warrick slipped one
hand behind Nick and began moving it in small, soothing circles. "I've never
heard anyone call you a screw-up or stupid. Stubborn, hot-headed and prone to
rash behaviour, yes, but never stupid."
"You're just sweet-talking me because you want to get me into bed," Nick
retorted dryly.
Warrick grinned at that, but only briefly. "I don't want to pressure you to--
" he stopped when Nick let out another laugh.
"That's not what it feels like to me," he replied, indicating the way Warrick
had him pinned. When Warrick started to move back, Nick tightened one arm and
moved the other to Warrick's neck. "I don't want to talk about work anymore."
He pulled Warrick's head down for a quick, hungry kiss. "I don't want to think
about work anymore."
Warrick needed no more encouragement. He dipped his head to nuzzle and lick at
the smooth column of Nick's throat. Nick sighed happily and quickly slipped his
hands under Warrick's shirt, prompting the taller man to do the same. Warrick
managed to toe off both shoes without once breaking contact. Kicking the shoes
aside, he insinuated one leg between both of Nick's.
Nick gasped at the extra sensation. "Maybe--oh, jeez, Rick--" when Warrick bit
down on his earlobe, "Maybe we should go to the, um, the--"
"Bedroom?" Warrick purred in Nick's ear.
"'Kay," Nick agreed with a shiver.
Getting to the bedroom took some time, but by the time they'd reached it, both
shirts were gone and Warrick had started on Nick's jeans.
"What do you want, Warrick?" Nick panted, pulling Warrick along until they
bumped up against his bed.
Warrick slid a hand down to squeeze a firm ass cheek. "This," he breathed. "But
only if you're okay with it."
"I'm okay with it," Nick murmured against Warrick's chest.
They only had intercourse twice and although the first time wasn't quite a
disaster, it was close. The next time had been better, but Warrick doubted it
had been anything really special for Nick despite his best efforts. "Are you
sure?"
In response, Nick bit lightly on a dark, dusky nipple.
"Hey!"
Nick cast an innocent look up at Warrick, although there was no disguising the
wicked amusement in his eyes.
"Oh, it's like that, huh?" Warrick bore Nick back onto the bed. Then, before
Nick had gotten his bearings, Warrick slid down the length of his body to kneel
on the floor.
"Warrick?" Nick propped himself on his arms, then nearly lost his balance when
Warrick tugged the waistband of his jeans. "Warrick!"
Warrick tugged a bit more, then hooked his hands behind Nick's knees and pulled
until his calves were hanging over the edge of the bed. Ignoring Nick's
startled yelp, Warrick concentrated on his goal--freeing Nick's straining cock
from its confines. The complaints stopped at once.
Knowing they were hypersensitive and Nick didn't like them played with much,
Warrick handled Nick's balls only briefly before focusing his attention--and
mouth--where it would bring the most pleasure.
When he felt the warm, moist heat envelope him, Nick let himself fall back on
the bed. He braced his feet on the floor and tried to thrust upward, but
Warrick leaned on his thighs, holding him in place.
Keeping one hand on Nick's cock, Warrick used the other to finish stripping off
the faded jeans. Then he shifted to a better position, settling himself between
Nick's legs.
"You're--too...damn good--at this..." Nick finally managed a semi-coherent
sentence between gasps.
Warrick chuckled around his mouthful, wringing another groan from the man
beneath him. He let little Nick slide free long enough to ask-- "Lube?"
"Bought some..." Nick sounded rather befuddled at the lost of sensation.
"Where is it, babe?" Warrick couldn't restrain an amused smirk.
"Um...end table?"
Pausing only to press a quick kiss to Nick's inner thigh, Warrick leaned over
and opened the endtable's top drawer. He found lube and condoms, which relieved
much of his concern over Nick's wants--obviously Nick had been considering
trying again before today. He left a condom on the table for later and slicked
some lube on his fingers, then settled himself back between Nick's legs.
Nick had started to sit up, but compliantly slumped back down when Warrick
pushed gently on his chest. Although he still kissed and fondled Nick's eager
cock, Warrick concentrated on probing the cleft of Nick's ass with his lubed
fingers. His own cock was getting uncomfortably tight in his jeans, but Warrick
was determined that Nick be fully prepared and begging to be fucked. He
massaged one finger over the puckered opening until Nick was gasping and
whimpering and then slid it carefully inside.
Although Nick tensed immediately, Warrick quickly located his prostate and all
Nick's resistance--along with his ability for speech--vanished. He took just
the head of Nick's cock in his mouth and began to suck enthusiastically, even
as he managed to get a second finger inside the loosened opening. Warrick knew
he would never get tired of the sight and sound of Nick at him most needy; the
flushed skin, the helpless noises and the heaving chest made him harder than
anything else in his life.
Just to make absolutely certain, Warrick inserted a third finger and when that
only brought another groan, he began to finger fuck the responsive body in
earnest. When Nick managed to choke out his name, and Warrick knew he was too
close to the edge to wait any longer--they both were.
He moved away long enough to quickly strip off his own jeans and then roll on
the condom, hoping the delay wouldn't set them back. Judging from the look of
desire on Nick's face as he pushed himself further onto the bed, that wouldn't
be a problem. "How..?" Nick voice was hoarse, breathless.
"On your back, baby," Warrick knew his voice was sounded much deeper than
usual. "I want to see you."
Fire in the dark eyes flared even hotter and Nick laid back, drawing his legs
up so willingly, so trustingly that an inexplicable wave of tenderness surged
briefly through Warrick's lust. It was quickly overridden by need--the need to
take complete advantage of the offering before him. Warrick knelt on the bed,
between Nick's legs again, and grasped the slim hips in his hands. Nick did his
best to angle his body upward and after only the slightest resistance, Warrick
was able to push himself all the way in.
The feeling was enough that Warrick nearly lost it on the spot and had to draw
in huge breaths of air to get himself under control--he wanted to make this
last as long as possible.
"Warrick....Warrick, move!" Nick choked, trying to recreate the sensation, but
unable to get much leverage with his legs in the air.
Warrick knew he had the right angle when Nick's eyes closed in ecstasy. "Let's
go for a ride, baby," he growled, and began moving--harder and faster with
every thrust.
One of Nick's hands was fisted in the bedsheets and with the other he began
pulling desperately as his leaking cock. All it took was Warrick adding his
hand to the job and Nick was splattering his chest with semen, his head thrown
back, the cords in his neck taut. After that, Warrick gave up what little
control he had left and thrust into Nick over and over, frantically, blindly,
fiercely and loudly.
It took longer than usual for Warrick to catch his breath, but eventually he
managed to lever himself off Nick, holding onto the condom until his softened
cock slipped free. Nick let his legs fall back down with an exhausted, but
contented-sounding sigh.
"You okay?" Warrick asked, hoping he hadn't gotten carried away.
"You kidding?" Nick gave him a blissful, sleepy smile.
Warrick leaned over for a soft, feather-light kiss, then turned away to dispose
of the condom. He was looking for something to clean up with a bit, hoping it
wouldn't have to leave the comfort of Nick's California-king mattress to do it.
His own shorts were the closest, so he grabbed them off the floor. Levering
himself back up, he noticed Nick's phone on the night stand and snagged that as
well.
He cleaned them both off, then tossed his shorts back. Seeing Nick was only
moments away from sleep he felt a twinge of regret saying-- "I'm going to turn
your phone back on, okay?"
Nick blinked, his happy expression fading slightly. "What?"
"In case Cath tries to get ahold of you," Warrick explained. "She was really
worried."
"Okay, then," Nick agreed, although he sounded a bit reluctant as he watched
Warrick do just that. However, contentment seemed to return when the larger man
stretched out beside him, pulling him close. "Did...did she know you were
coming here?"
"She did. She knew." Warrick settled himself against the pillows and Nick
against his chest.
"Like knew, knew?"
"Yep. Which really shouldn't surprise us."
"I guess not."
Neither man said a word about the problems that were waiting for them. For now
they were sleepy and satisfied and had hours before they had to address those
problems.
They slept.
===============================================================================
Stretching luxuriously, Warrick started to turn over, only to find himself
pinned under sleep-heavy limbs. Opening one eye, he smiled down at Nick, who
was pressed close to him, sound asleep. One arm and one leg were thrown
possessively over Warrick's chest and legs, so Warrick shifted toward Nick
instead of away and his smile widened when Nick nestled closer with a contented
murmur.
Normally, Warrick didn't care to have anyone wrapped around him when he was
trying to sleep, but somehow when Nick did it, it wasn't a problem. He'd known
before--when Nick was still just a buddy--that the Texan was a tactile person;
the sort to give someone a pat on the back or a clap on the shoulder. It fit in
so naturally with Nick's open, friendly nature that no one gave it a second
thought--including Warrick. It was only after they became lovers that Warrick
noticed how much Nick seemed to revel in physical contact. Usually there was
nothing sexual about it, it was more about comfort and affection than anything
else. Warrick wondered whether it was because Nick's family were all
demonstrative and Nick missed it, or if he craved it for the opposite reason.
In either case, Warrick was glad to indulge Nick in behavior that would have
irritated him with most other people.
Nick moved in his sleep again and his morning--afternoon--erection nudged
Warrick's hip. Warrick's smile turned to a smirk and he was just debating what
would be the best way to proceed when the phone on the night stand trilled.
Warrick grabbed it but managed to catch himself before he answered it. He was
sure it was Catherine calling to check up, but in case it wasn't, he didn't
care to start the questions that might arise from him answering Nick's cell at
an hour when most graveyard CSIs were just getting up.
"Nick," he nudged his lover. "Babe, answer your phone."
"Mnh?"
"Your phone," Warrick pressed it into the hand resting on his chest.
Nick fumbled briefly before getting it open. "'Lo." He finally managed.
Warrick relaxed back against the pillows to enjoy that drawl--thickened by
sleep and sexy as hell--while Nick tried to convince Catherine everything was
fine.
"Jim?"
Warrick frowned--not Catherine, then.
"Sorry. I turned off my phone because...yeah. You heard, huh?" All traces of
sleepiness had disappeared and Nick quickly propped himself up on his free arm.
"Oh...yeah. I had asked him to look into that but--"
Watching as Nick's shoulders slumped and his head bowed, Warrick knew which
case Brass was calling about and that if the Captain had become involved,
things couldn't be good.
"Look, I'm sorry about that," Nick rubbed his eyes. "Could you tell Vartann to-
-what? She had a--what?!" Nick was sitting straight up, now.
So was Warrick, wanting to be prepared for any more bad news.
"Do you think you can get it? Oh...hell, yeah!" Nick tossed the covers back.
"I'll see you in thirty."
Warrick quickly put a hand on Nick's shoulder before he could get out of bed.
"Hey, you want to tell me what's going on?"
Nick turned only long enough to plant a quick, hard kiss on Warrick's lips
before getting up and hurrying out of the bedroom.
"Nick!" Warrick managed to catch up with him just outside the bathroom. "What
the hell? Was that Brass?"
"Yep," Nick drew Warrick toward him for another, slightly longer kiss. "Vartann
cracked the case with the info I gave him." Nick didn't exactly look happy--to
Warrick it seemed like a mixture of relief and triumph. "Enough for a warrant
to search Russell's house. Brass is getting it now--he'll meet me at the house
in a half-hour. Family Services, too. I've got to grab a shower."
By the time Warrick had made sense of the rush of words, Nick was already under
the running water. With a rueful smile at a missed chance for some wake-up sex,
Warrick padded back to the bedroom and pulled on the shirt and jeans he'd
discarded that morning. He was waiting in the living room when Nick emerged
from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Just to torture himself, Warrick followed Nick back into the bedroom. "What did
they find on the guy?"
Nick was rooting through his dresser, "The wife's safety deposit box. Brass
didn't tell me everything, but just the pre-nup in there makes things look
suspicious." He found shorts and a fresh pair of dockers and started pulling
them on. "If there's a divorce, the husband gets what he came in with, which
isn't much because the money is all on the wife's side. If the wife dies,
though, all control of the money reverts to the grandparents."
Warrick suppressed a sigh and the urge to undo Nick's progress with his pants
and concentrated on the facts Nick had just given him. One thing that stood out
about the case--"Didn't the wife walk out?"
"Supposedly, but there was no provision for that, according to Vartann. And she
had contacted a divorce lawyer." Nick grabbed a shirt from his closet.
"Hell, that doesn't sound good." He leaned against the door frame. "What's the
address?"
"What?"
"Figured maybe I'd give you a hand processing the scene."
Nick didn't answer, remaining silent as he pulled his socks on and stood up.
Worried now, Warrick backtracked. "Hey, if you want to go solo, that's cool. I
just thought you might like--look, I know I didn't exactly back you up before,
so--" he stopped--had to really--when Nick wrapped both arms around him and
gave him a deep kiss.
"Nothing like that, Rick," Nick nuzzled his cheek. "You've been great at
putting up with all my crap on this case. But I'm still not supposed to be
working it. If nothing pans out I'll be in a helluva lot of trouble. No reason
for you to be, too."
Warrick felt a rush of relief so strong it unnerved him. "Hell, where's the fun
getting in trouble all by your lonesome? But, hey, I'm not trying to push. If
you want to handle this solo, I'm totally with that."
Nick's expression went from somber to quizzical and back again. "Summerlin.
1109 Arabian Sand Court."
"Just tell Brass you dialed me on your way to the scene. I've just got to grab
a shower and change."
A half-smile on his face, Nick nodded. "I appreciate this, Rick."
"Yeah," Warrick couldn't resist those lips still so close to his own. "You can
make it up to me when this case is closed."
"I plan to," Nick gave him that devilish smile that Warrick hadn't seen since
the case began.
He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. "I'd better get going, or
we're never gonna get to that scene." One more kiss and a fair amount of will-
power, and Warrick finally headed out to his jeep.

                                      ***
"Hey, Rick," Brass greeted Warrick as he strolled up the walk to William
Russell's house. "Nicky said you were coming to this party."
"Yeah, well, it's probably a good idea for him to be finished with the scene
before shift starts, so he needs a hand for that." Warrick looked around the
immaculately landscaped yard. A smartly-dressed man was standing in the
driveway, wearing an ominous frown and flanked by two uniforms. A little way
away, two boys stood with two more officers along with a man and woman Warrick
assumed were from Family Services. Frowning, Warrick finally realized what was
missing. "The new nanny?"
"No sign of her. Nick mentioned she was illegal. Could be she made a break for
it."
"Could be," Warrick agreed. He headed toward the front door and Brass fell into
step beside him. "We better find something here," he muttered.
"No matter what you find," Brass pointed out. "Your boss is not going to be
happy with Nick."
"I heard that." Warrick took off his sunglasses as they entered the house.
Nick was just coming down the stairs. "Natalie Cerrado's room has been cleaned
out," he told them. "I'm thinking she panicked after she came in to see me."
"You check the rooms upstairs already?" Warrick asked.
"Just a quick look around," Nick replied. "I thought you could take that. I
want to look around outside while there's still plenty of daylight."
"Got it covered," Warrick started for the stairs, brushing innocently by Nick
as he did.
"So I've got to try to keep track of both of you? On separate floors, one
inside and one out," Brass sounded disgruntled.
Nick wasn't concerned by the Captain's tone--Brass always sounded disgruntled.
"Vartann should be here soon, yeah?"
"Just as soon as he contacts the Dennings."
Nick nodded. "You stay here in the air conditioning, then," he gave Brass a
teasing grin. "There are plenty of uniforms outside."
Brass snorted but didn't argue.

                                    *******
Warrick had been processing the upper level for nearly an hour when Detective
Vartann arrived with the Dennings. He happened to be glancing out an upstairs
window at the time, so he saw both boys rush toward their grandparents,
avoiding all attempts to stop them. Although he couldn't hear what was being
said, Warrick could easily tell what was happening. The smaller boy was
clinging tightly to the older woman, refusing to let go despite the efforts of
the Service workers. The woman was alternately hugging him and trying to unlock
his arms from her waist.
Brass had gone down as soon as Vartann's car pulled up and now Warrick saw him
helping to restrain William Russell who tried to rush for the older couple.
Nick stood apart from the commotion--Warrick was grateful he hadn't decided to
jump in--and when everything was under control again, he beckoned Vartann over
to talk. Warrick went back to processing Jonathan Russell's room, knowing Brass
would fill him in when he came back upstairs.
He did, starting with the suggestion-- "You might want to process the father's
room next."
"Yeah?"
"Oh yeah. The guy has been setting off everyone's alarm bells before this, but
that was a freakin' nuclear launch out there."
"Yeah, I could see that from here. What was it about?"
"You saw the kids run for their grandparents--Jesus, it was enough to make a
couple of the rookies misty. Then the father started raving about no contact
allowed." Brass looked out the window, "They finally got the little guy to let
go." He heaved a tired sigh, "I hope to hell you guys find something, because
I'd hate to leave those boys alone with that creep after this."
Warrick started with the master bath, and after another unsuccessful half-hour,
he found a hair brush tucked carefully into the back of a cupboard. Curious as
to why such an innocuous item would be so obviously hidden, he tested for
blood. With just one swipe and one drop of luminol, the swab turned a
disturbing, dark shade of pink.
He was bagging it when Brass called him from the master suite's sitting area,
so he sealed and labeled the brush before joining the homicide captain. "What's
up?"
Brass jerked his head toward the window. "Think maybe we should join them?"
Warrick looked through the window, this one overlooking the backyard. He saw
Nick and Detective Vartann standing beyond the expensively tiled patio and the
swimming pool, at the far end of the enclosed yard. From his vantage point,
Warrick could clearly see the depression in the earth that they were looking
at. Nick crouched down to better gauge the size, but Warrick could already tell
what--or who--would fit nicely in such a cavity.
"Yeah. Let's get down there," he quickly repacked his kit and followed Brass
downstairs. "I'll be with you in a minute," he said once they were outside and
headed for his vehicle. He gathered up the heavier-duty tools, then went
through the gate to the back, ignoring the death glare he was getting from
Russell.
Nick nodded and smiled when Warrick handed him a shovel and they both began
digging carefully while Brass and Vartann looked on. They were a little more
than two feet down when Nick suddenly froze, about a quarter of his shovel
blade in the dirt.
"Lose the shovels?" Warrick asked, although it was a rhetorical question. He
was already trading his shovel for a hand-held broom with extra-stiff bristles.
Nick opted for a small hoe that moved larger quantities of the dirt.
Twenty minutes was enough to reveal a plastic-wrapped female corpse.
"Sabrina Russell," Vartann said.
"Can't say for sure yet," Nick said as he began snapping pictures, although it
sounded more like an automatic response than something he believed.
"It'll be enough to hold the husband, though." Brass pulled out his cell, "I'll
get the coroner here to transport the body."
"I'll take Russell in," Vartann cracked a rare--albeit grim--smile.
Nick lowered the camera and look toward the front drive. "What about the boys?"
"Services will take them tonight," Vartann replied. "And I'm sure the
grandparents will get them if the body turns out to be Sabrina Russell's."
"Good." Nick went back to the photos.
"Coroner's on the way," Brass said, then caught Vartann's arm as the detective
turned to go. "Get another uniform over here to tape off this scene."
"Will do," Vartann strode purposefully to the front of the house.
Warrick continued to remove dirt from around the body while Nick snapped
pictures from every conceivable angle.
Brass' phone trilled. "Yeah, Brass." A slight pause, "How the hell did you--
? Uh...yeah. Yeah, okay." He ended the call. "That was Grissom."
Nick and Warrick both froze. "Shit," Nick groaned.
Warrick couldn't have said it better himself.

                                    *******
As he and Nick joined the rest of the graveyard shift around the conference
table, Warrick could almost feel their intense curiosity. That no one ventured
to ask any questions did not bode well.
Then Grissom came in and began handing out assignments as though nothing was
out of the ordinary. "Sara, you've got two d.b.'s in the desert. Mummified
remains of a horse and rider in Diablo Canyon."
"Horse and rider?" Sara took the slip, "Extra weird."
"If you need help, you can bring Greg in." Grissom looked down at the remaining
slips of paper in his hand. "Warrick, you're with me. We've got a floater out
on South Tropicana. Get to the scene and I'll meet you the later."
Warrick took the paper reluctantly, exchanging wary looks with Nick.
Grissom wasn't finished yet. "Catherine, you've got suspicious circs over at
the Tangiers."
Catherine took the less-the-great case without argument, leading Warrick to
suspect that she and Grissom had discussed it beforehand.
Grissom's next words confirmed it. "You'll be taking Nick with you."
"What?!" Nick's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm already working a case."
"Actually, you're not," Grissom's voice was firm but not angry. "Day shift is
pulling a double and covering the scene."
Warrick felt his lip curl involuntarily at the news and Sara suddenly looked
peeved despite her unusual case.
Nick was white to the lips. "Day shift?! If it was up to day shift, Russell
would still be--" Everyone at the table watched as Nick struggled to bring his
temper under control. Finally, he succeeded. "I don't believe this."
"It's still Travis' case," Grissom pointed out calmly, although his expression
was dissatisfied. But Nick wasn't looking at him, or anyone else. "It always
was, I'm afraid. Anyway, that's it, everyone. Nick, I'd like to see you in my
office before you go."
Nick gave a single, jerky nod but remained seated while everyone else rose to
go. Sara put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as she passed. Warrick longed
to do the same, but knew it was a bad idea and he had to settle for a quick,
"Later, man."
"I'll wait for you by the car, Nicky," Catherine said quietly.
Nick, lost in his thoughts, acknowledged none of them.

                                    *******
Warrick was glad to find Nick in the locker room getting ready to leave for the
day. Even better was the fact that he was alone. "Hey."
"Hey," it came out as a sigh. Still, other than looking like he'd pulled a
triple instead of a single, Nick didn't seem that bad off.
"I need to talk to you."
Nick threw a tiny smirk his way. "Did you take a number?"
"That bad?"
"No," Nick admitted. "Not really."
"So you want to get out of here and get some breakfast?"
"Nope," Nick replied immediately. His smirk widened to a smile at Warrick's
startled expression. "I'm sick of breakfast--all the actual meals I've eaten
this week have been breakfast. I was going to call the King's Garden and pick
it up on the way home."
"Szechwan vegetables at eight in the morning," Warrick grinned. "You gotta love
Vegas."
"We can talk while we eat," Nick offered.
"Sounds good to me."
Nick glanced around before speaking again. "I thought while I was getting the
food, you might want to pick up a change of clothes so...uh..." he obviously
decided it was a bad idea halfway through. "Or...well, whatever."
Warrick knew accepting the invitation might be setting up unreasonable
expectations. Getting into such a habit after less than three weeks was a
little intense, especially for someone who liked their space as much as Warrick
did.
He just didn't happen to want that space today. "I'll be at your place in a
half-hour or so."
Nick's smile returned immediately. "I'll see you then." He closed his locker
door and was gone.

"What did you want to talk about?" Nick asked as they each grabbed a carton of
their favorite dish.
"First tell me who was in line ahead of me."
"Just who you think. Gil and Catherine."
Warrick couldn't help noticing that Nick seemed much less stressed than he'd
been for the past few days. It was surprising after his reaction to having the
case taken away in the conference room earlier. "How'd that go?"
"Pretty much what you expect," Nick sank more comfortably into his sofa and
helped himself to some Mongolian beef from the carton Warrick was holding.
"Although Gris went a lot easier on me than he could have, all things
considered. I don't think he was any happier about day shift getting the case
back than I was, although he didn't say that. He gave me the whole thing about
too much emotional involvement again."
"Which you know," Warrick couldn't help adding.
"Which I know," Nick agreed easily. "About how although I was right this time I
could have just as easily been wrong. Again, something I know. It's just that
when I'm on a case like that--it doesn't seem as important."
Warrick smiled, not so much at Nick's words as the return to the more genial
personality that he was familiar with. "And Catherine?"
"Catherine." Nick chewed thoughtfully for a brief moment, then shrugged. "You
know Cath. She got me to spill my guts."
"Yeah, that sounds like her."
"So what about you? Talk."
"I ran into Detective Vartann at the precinct when I went about my floater."
Nick dropped his chopsticks into the carton of ginger almond chicken he'd been
working on and turned to face the man next to him.
His expectant posture was enough to prompt Warrick to continue. "The body was
ID'd as Sabrina Russell. They charged the father, and then Services were able
to take custody of the boys. As soon as those boys were alone in a room with
their grandparents, they started to talk. They got the boys to the doctor and
found..." Warrick stopped eating. "Well, injuries consistent with severe sexual
abuse."
"Jesus..." Nick had paled bit.
"After talking to the boys, and Gardner again--she still never admitted to
anything more serious than...fondling, and the boys confirm that, so they might
be making a deal to get into a program in exchange for her testimony."
Nick's lip curled, but he didn't comment.
"According to Vartann, it sounds like Russell found out his wife was planning
to divorce him, so he killed her and made it look like she left so he wouldn't
lose control of the money. The nanny found out about it somehow--supposedly
before she ever touched the boys--and started blackmailing him for money. Then
the father caught the nanny with one of the boys, but there was no actual
proof. He wanted something on the nanny, so he...created the proof. The
hairbrush I found tested positive for...well..."
"That's...that's beyond sick..." Nick leaned forward and put his food on the
coffee table.
"Vartann thinks he didn't go through with the doctor's exam initially for fear
one of the boys would let something slip," Warrick set his carton on an end
table. "The father will be charged with murder and Felony A sexual abuse. The
younger boy is nine, so that's automatic life. Even with the...strange evidence
trail, the DA said they had a pretty solid case."
"And the boys..."
"Probably go with their grandparents tomorrow."
Nick closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
"You did real good by those boys, Nick," Warrick said quietly, hoping Nick
could tell how much he admired the tenacity with which he'd held onto the case.
"So long as they're safe with their grandparents," Nick sighed.
"God, Nick, don't tell me you think--"
"No," Nick opened his eyes. "I think they'll be fine with the Dennings."
"Yeah, okay. I mean, those boys started talking as soon as they were with the
Dennings. And when a kid knows he's safe, he'll talk."
"Really?" Nick's voice was wistful.
"Nick?" Warrick frowned with concern.
Nick smiled, although it was strained. "Well, it's worth being in the doghouse
for a while, then. Considering yesterday I thought I'd be looking for work." He
picked up a carton and started eating again. "So what happened with your
floater?"
They discussed the stranger cases that had come up over the past week, and by
the time they finished breakfast, Nick appeared to have put the worst of the
Russell case behind him.
Warrick planned to make a corny, high school, movie-theater move on Nick to
make him laugh, but Nick got up and began collecting what was left of their
breakfast. He also reached over the sofa to close the blinds and shut out the
morning sun. "I'll be right back," he said, and went into the bedroom.
Warrick nodded and settled into the deep couch. Although not tired--it took at
least a double before he started to drag--his life and job made him appreciate
any opportunity to relax.
"Hey...uh...Rick?" Nick called from the bedroom.
Nick's note held an odd note Warrick had never heard before. "Yeah?"
"Do you remember before shift I said I planned to make things up to you?"
Relaxation went out the window, especially for 'Warrick Jr.' His conscience
nudged him to tell Nick--You don't have to do this, but his libido won hands
down. "Yeah, I remember."
Nick walked back into the living room wearing only a faded pair of jeans that
rode indecently low on his hips. As he came closer, Warrick could see that the
jeans were so old and soft that it wouldn't take much to tear the denim.
Warrick had to fight the urge to try.
Nick nudged Warrick's knees apart and knelt on the floor between them. There
was a flush high on his cheeks. The way his tongue snuck out to moisten his
lower lip indicated his nervousness even as it cranked Warrick's lust--among
other things--up several notches.
"I was gonna," another swipe with that tongue. "I was...um...gonna do that
now."
"You do what you gotta, Nick." Warrick was mildly amazed that he'd managed to
speak with such a dry mouth.
Nick smiled tentatively and grabbed edges of Warrick's collar, pulling him
forward for a series of quick, teasing kisses before parting his lips in
inviting Warrick's tongue inside. All the while, his nimble fingers were
unbuttoning Warrick's shirt.
Some instinct told Warrick to let Nick lead the way, so he kept his hands at
his sides despite the expanse of delectable skin in front of him.
When he broke off the kiss, Nick seemed less nervous, and there was a definite
sparkle in his eye before he dropped his head to Warrick's chest. For several
minutes, Nick stayed still, his lips and nose pressed to the dark skin above
the rapidly beating heart, inhaling deeply.
Warrick felt his eyes glaze over with something beyond sensual pleasure, but
before he could identify it, Nick was moving again. Lips, teeth and that tongue
traced patterns down Warrick's abs and around his navel while Nick's hands
worked on his belt and jeans. By the time Nick freed him from his shorts,
Warrick was painfully hard.
"Jesus, Nick..." Warrick groaned, lifting his hips to aid Nick in getting the
rest of his clothes off. Part of his mind noted that Nick was still dressed,
but then Nick began sucking industriously at the head of his cock and rational
thought disappeared.
Nick still wasn't experienced enough to take Warrick's entire length in his
mouth, and Warrick reflected muzzily that that might be a good thing, because
he wasn't going to last much longer as it was. He tried to communicate this to
Nick by twining several fingers in the short, dark hair and pulling.
Nick gave him one of those killing looks from under his lashes as he slowly let
Warrick slide from his mouth. As Warrick watched with hooded eyes, Nick pulled
a condom packet from his jeans, tore it open and carefully rolled the condom
over Warrick's straining cock. Nick's dark eyes were intent on his task, only
occasionally flicking upwards to glance at Warrick.
When Warrick was able to think clearly again, he would wonder if that look
shouldn't be illegal.
Nick got to his feet and quickly discarded his jeans, then knelt on the sofa,
straddling his legs so that Warrick's cock just brushed the cleft of his ass
and his cock briefly brushed against Warrick's stomach. Warrick couldn't keep
from touching and longer and he slid his hands up Nick's thighs to the slim
hips.
"I...I'll need your help to..." Nick demonstrated by wriggling his ass,
allowing Warrick slightly better access.
Warrick wasn't sure where it came from, but he was able to dredge up sanity
from somewhere. "You're still not used to this, baby," he voice was as strained
as his control. "After yesterday...I don't want to hurt you..."
The look Nick gave him was appallingly innocent under the circumstances. "I
used plenty of... you didn't hurt me yesterday."
And the condom is lubed, too, Warrick told himself. As if there was ever any
way you were going to say no. Instead of speaking, Warrick took the pale cheeks
in his hands, parting them carefully as Nick sank back on his haunches. Guiding
himself toward the tight ring of muscle, Warrick gritted his teeth and let Nick
set the pace.
Nick's breath was coming in short, breathless pants, then his took a deep
breath and impaled himself on the large cock beneath him. Pain flashed across
his features for an instant before his head fell back and his eyes closed in
pleasure. "Oh...that's...that's..."
Warrick reached up to tweak Nick's nipples, making the dark eyes snap open.
"You just gonna sit there?" he asked, amazed that he could still ask an actual
question. Then Nick began to move and Warrick lost the ability to form
sentences. Somehow one hand found its way to Nick's leaking cock, and Warrick
began to pump it in time to the rhythm Nick was setting as he moved up and
down. Warrick briefly let go, to enjoy the sight of it bouncing in time to
Nick's motions, then began stroking again in earnest. "You're gonna...come
on...come for me, baby..."
Nick let out a choked cry and spilled himself over Warrick's stomach and chest,
his breathing harsh and his movements frantic. Warrick meant to milk every last
drop, but the sounds Nick was making were enough to end his cracked control.
Gripping Nick's hips hard, he braced his feet on the floor and surged upward,
prompting another cry from Nick that blended beautifully with his own.
"You trying to kill me?" was the first thing Warrick said when he became
coherent again.
Nick, still boneless and unmoving, managed a wobbly chuckle. "So that was okay,
then?"
Warrick laughed as well. "Yeah, I guess."
"I'll be able to move in a minute and we can go to bed," Nick murmured into
Warrick's neck.
"Ah, hell. Let's just stay here and sleep," Warrick was beyond moving.
"The bed is more comfortable."
"Don't be a baby, baby," Warrick teased. "Can't you sleep on a couch?"
"I can when I have to. But I bought a bed so I don't have to." Nick pulled back
enough to look at Warrick. "Besides, there's more room to maneuver on the bed."
"Checkmate," Warrick said, making Nick grin.

End
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