Title: Chili con Christmas
Author: Deliverance (shadowhuntress (dot) livejournal (dot) com)
Pairing: David Hodges/Nick Stokes
Rating: PG (ie., pointless & schmoopy, but not overly sentimental, I hope)
Summary: Who knows how to bring you home for the holidays? The Nose knows!
Words: 1900 words
Warnings/Spoilers: Er, none? If you haven't seen Iced by now, you must be dead
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by CBS, Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Color me shocked. I've actually finished something. First CSI fic, and the first fic I've finished in, hmm, the past two years. I blame it all on watching too many holiday shows, which put me in a mood for Christmas schmoop. Pardon the lame title--I'm hungry and it's the holiday season, a deadly combination.
Chili con Christmas
It was sometime in early July when David Hodges entered the break room, intent on refilling his coffee mug. He stopped in his tracks, however, when presented with the appealing sight of Nick Stokes bent over, all attention on the Tupperware currently spinning in the microwave. David blinked. Hello.
"Afraid your lunch will run away if you don't keep both eyes on it?" asked David, resuming his progress towards the coffeemaker.
"Mhmm," Nick responded distractedly, twirling a spoon in one hand.
David frowned as he poured lukewarm coffee into his mug. He was just about to make a suitably snarky remark about ignoring people or manners or indecent positions when the microwave beeped, and Nick, smiling widely, pulled his Tupperware out and cradled it like the Holy Grail. He slowly opened the lid, and steam wafted forth. Nick closed his eyes and practically started drooling like one of Pavlov's dogs.
David sniffed inconspicuously. Chili?
He didn't realize he had uttered the question out loud until Nick's eyes flew open and he chuckled ruefully, his cheeks coloring a bit. "Um, yeah. My folks froze some and sent it out to me."
"Still need your mommy to make your lunch, Nick?" David smirked.
To David's surprise, Nick didn't look the least bit offended. "You're never too old for your parents to cook for you, Hodges. But I'll have you know that this is no ordinary chili. It's the Stokes secret family recipe, passed on to the eldest child of each generation. Unfortunately, I'm hardly the eldest, so I'm left with frozen leftovers."
"It doesn't smell very special to me," David said dubiously.
"That's because you're across the room," Nick responded, beckoning David over. He held out the container for David to take a closer look.
David shrugged and put his coffee mug down. He moved just close enough to make it possible for him to lean over the container and take a healthy whiff. His nose immediately catalogued the spicy aroma into its various components. "Not unappetizing."
"Gimme a break," exclaimed Nick, his eyes rolling. He dug his spoon in the chili and held it out. "I'm telling you it's fantastic. It tastes like…home. Here, you'll see."
"I'll take your word for it," David begged off.
"Oh no, you don't. I'm gonna to prove you wrong. C'mon, open up," Nick urged, making airplane noises and moving the spoon around and steadily closer to David's mouth.
"Stop that. For the record, I'm only agreeing to this because you haven't used that spoon," David replied, gingerly taking the spoon from Nick's hand because he was not going to be fed like a child. He closed his eyes and took a taste, allowing the chili to linger on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing. There was definitely some heat to it, and yes, he had to admit that it was quite good.
Finally, he opened his eyes and spoke. "It's edible."
Nick snorted, clearly disbelieving. "Yeah, okay. Whatever, man. I guess I'll just go enjoy my authentic Texas chili in peace, then."
With a sniff, Nick snatched his spoon back and pulled his container against his chest protectively before breezing regally out of the break room, the chili and spoon his orb and sceptor.
As soon as he turned the corner, David smiled.
vOvOv
It was technically early Christmas day when Nick bumped into David in a quiet hallway in the lab. Trying to regain his balance, David spied a look at Nick and held back a grimace. Nick looked like hell.
"Are you trying to run me down, Stokes?" asked David, his tone irritated, an attempt to hide the concern he felt at Nick's dishevelled appearance.
"Sorry, Hodges. Must not have seen where I was goin'," said Nick, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Obviously. You just finished a double shift, didn't you?" David's face pinched a bit as Nick nodded slowly. "Why aren't you back in the sticks for Christmas with the Stokes clan?"
"Well, someone has to hold down the fort. Greg's back in California for the weekend, Catherine's spending her day with her mom and Lindsay, Warrick's with Tina, and God only knows what Gris or Sara do on Christmas. And I couldn't exactly pass off the double homicide I was working on. The case just came to a head a half hour ago."
"Did you get the guy?"
"Yeah," Nick sighed, leaning wearily against the wall, which looked to be the only thing keeping him on his feet. "But it won't bring back the little girl or her mom. Everybody loses."
David's hand itched to reach out and…do something. Instead he opted for steering Nick's mind from the depressing subject. "So, uh, no plans for Christmas, then?"
"Crashing for the next 10 hours sounds like the best plan to me. Then maybe watch some football or a lame Christmas special, order some takeout," answered Nick with a shrug.
The corner of David's mouth lifted momentarily. "Ah. Well then, I won't keep you from your important engagement."
"Thanks," Nick said, giving David a weak smile before pulling himself from the wall and continuing towards the locker room. After taking a few steps, he turned back, calling, "Hey, Hodges? Merry Christmas."
"Mhmm," responded David from the doorway to his lab, waving negligently back.
vOvOv
It was just about twelve hours later when David stood on Nick's doorstep, trying to ring the doorbell with one hand and hold a large, unwieldy pot in the other.
"Comin'!" David heard Nick's muffled voice calling from somewhere inside the house. The door swung open after a few moments.
Nick's expression at identifying just who rang his doorbell in the middle of Christmas day was absolutely priceless. David bit back a smirk. "Merry Christmas."
Nick continued to stare. David rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to say 'Merry Christmas' back."
"Merry Christmas back?" Nick echoed numbly, scrubbing his hand over his head rather cutely. He still looked a bit rough around the edges, but well-rested, at least.
When Nick still neglected to invite him in, David brushed past him anyway. "Yes, I'll make myself at home. Why, thank you, Nick."
"Oh, um, yes! Sure, come on in, Hodges," said Nick, his brain finally catching up with the rest of the world as he closed the door and followed David, who had found the kitchen and promptly plopped his pot on the stove, turning it on low heat.
"You do have large spoons, I presume?" David asked before opening nearby drawers.
"Course I do," Nick answered with a hint of exasperation, lightly batting David's hand away and opening the correct drawer with the larger utensils.
As Nick rifled through the drawer, David took a moment to examine of Nick's townhouse. "Quaint home," he remarked. Then he noticed the tabletop tree on the counter. "And a Linus tree, I see. How…festive."
Nick handed him the requested large spoon and stood back, crossing his arms. "Did I detect a note of sarcasm there?"
"Well I never…" David started in mock offense before pulling the lid off the pot and stirring its contents.
He heard Nick's voice over his left shoulder, that Texas twang slightly more pronounced than usual. "If you know beans about chili, you know chili ain't got no beans."
David turned his head slightly, only to find Nick's face next to his own. He froze, breathing out, "Purist."
"Damn skippy," said Nick, an amused smile on his face and seemingly not at all bothered by their close proximity.
"Well, excuse me, pard, but I'm confident that you'll find this chili with beans vastly superior," David responded, a similarly superior expression on his face.
Nick scoffed. "Sacrilege!"
"Do I look like I care?" asked David, raising an eyebrow.
Nick paused, looking down at the pot as David continued slowly stirring. "Actually, I think you do," he said quietly.
Their eyes met and held for a few moments before David broke the connection, hastily clearing his throat. "Well, have a taste, then. Prove me wrong."
Instead of taking the spoon from David's hand, Nick took hold of his wrist, bringing the spoon to his lips. David's gaze fell to Nick's mouth as he blew carefully at the chili and took a taste. His eyes closed in bliss as he savored the unique flavor, then shot open in surprise. "How in the world did you know how to make this? It tastes just like back home! Did you call my dad or something?"
"The Nose knows, Nick," David replied, tapping the side of his nose with the index finger of his free hand. "One smell, and I can tell."
"I can't believe it. This must have taken ages to perfect," said Nick in awe. His hand squeezed David's wrist lightly. "You even captured whatever those secret ingredients are."
Now it was David's turn to scoff. "Secret ingredients? Really, CSI Stokes, they were pretty obvious to me."
"Well, if that's the case, then you wouldn't mind sharing them with me?" asked Nick, taking another taste of the chili, then licking his lips slowly. David tried not to stare.
After mentally pulling himself together, David responded as archly as he could. "And why would I want to do that?"
"Because I asked nicely?"
"You'll have to do better than that. Me and 'nice' have never been the closest of friends."
Nick pursed his lips before replying, "Name your price."
David gently pulled his wrist from Nick's grasp and let go of the spoon. He turned off the stove and leaned back against the counter, taking a moment to think things through.
Go for it, his subconscious whispered. What have you got to lose?
Everything, he whispered back.
Narrowing his eyes, David made the decision. "A kiss for the cook."
"Are you trying to seduce me, David?" asked Nick, fighting a smile.
David watched Nick carefully and considered the question. Finally, he responded, "Do you want me to?"
"Maybe I do," Nick said, watching him just as carefully back.
"You don't want me just because I'm a culinary maven, do you?" replied David, with a slight smirk on his lips. "Because I'm telling you right now, I won't be a kept man."
"I know this may be hard for you, but you're going to have to trust me," Nick answered the smirk with a winning smile of his own, eyes dancing. "All the great romances were based on trust, after all: Ozzie & Sharon, Bonnie & Clyde…"
David snorted out a laugh. "And what inspirational role models they are."
They continued to stare at each other, neither making a move. Nick broke first. "Well then, what are you waiting for?"
"My payment, of course."
"Oh!" Nick moved forward, obviously intending to kiss him chastely on the cheek, but at the last moment, David turned to meet Nick's lips head-on. Mouths connecting then brushing pleasantly against each other, David closed his eyes, this time in bliss himself. When they parted slightly, Nick spoke against David's lips. "Mmm, chili's gonna get cold."
David held onto Nick to keep him from pulling away completely. "It's always better the second day, or so I've heard."
"Right you are," said Nick, laughing and tightening his hold on David's waist. "Thanks for bringing a little bit of home to me."
"What can I say? I am a miracle worker."
Nick gave his miracle worker a quick kiss. "Merry Christmas, David."
Gracing him with a genuine smile, David answered, "Merry Christmas, Nick."
T
H
END
