Title: A Shift in Perspective
Author: AnitaB
Author's Notes: Well, when you watch CSI: Vegas… Nick and Warrick seem so much closer than just friends and coworkers. Nick's new case will shed a new light on everything… for the both of them. I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth getting in the lawsuit. Nick/Warrick romantic smut ahead. I am the queen.
A Shift in Perspective
By AnitaB
Chapter one: A rough night at the club
"Come on, man, please!" It wasn't everyday that Warrick Brown got begged for anything by Nick Stokes. Let alone for something this weird. The stressed out look on his face and the way his hair stood on end from his fingers only made the sight oddly … well, oddly cute. "I can't go there by myself. And Grissom took Sara and Cath both for the 419 at the Monaco. You've just got paperwork, right?" Nick sat forward on the locker room bench, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I'll help you with it for a month if you'll come with me to the Tug N Pull."
"I … I thought that's what you said. DB at the Tug N Pull, that gay bar off the strip?"
Pale fingers again ran through dark hair. And Warrick was weirdly happy that Nick had let it grow out a little. But then everything right now was a little weird. "No, Warrick, it's not a gay bar. I'm fine with those. This is a gay *dance club.* My first DB there I had more bruises than the Vic did by the time I got to the bar. My next one, I got Sara to go with me. It…" Nick leaned back, head braced against the locker behind him, neck stretched in a long line. "It cut down on the… uh… offers some. I can't go there alone. Please, Warrick."
Warrick leaned back against a locker, arms crossed over his tank and unbuttoned dress shirt. It was the end of a very long night. A double shift. And until Nick had given him the most pleading look he'd ever seen, all Warrick had been thinking about was his blankets, sheets and a pillow. But Nick… well, he was Nick. "Uh, yeah. Let me change this shirt and we'll go."
"Thank you, man. I owe you so big for this." Warrick blinked and found Nick giving him a quick, fierce hug before pulling back with a relieved smiled. "I'll go get the car."
Then Warrick found himself blinking at the back of a pair of broad shoulders disappearing out the door. Shaking his head, he opened his locker for a clean shirt. He had a club to go to with a friend.
000
Nick sat behind the wheel of his Tahoe, fingers tapping on the dash. Relief at Warrick's company to the club only unwound about half of the tense nerves in his gut. He hated the Tug N Pull. Hated it when those men looked at him like he was the desert section of an all-you-can-eat buffet. Hated the way they touched him, not knowing anything about him.
It was so … meaningless.
"Well, man. What're we waitin' for? Got a club to see about a dead man." Warrick slid into the passenger's seat, clapping a warm hand on Nick's shoulder. A smile curved lips that were caught halfway through a yawn. "Let's get going."
Nothing at all like the touch of someone who knew you and cared about you. A stranger's touch was nothing like knowing the hands on your body also cared about more than your body. And Warrick was always there for him. Like tonight, giving up much needed sleep to help him out. That was friendship. That was Warrick in a nutshell. Putting the car in gear, Nick turned to smile at Warrick … and nearly ran the car into the wall. Instead of any number of shirts that he would wear on a regular basis, Warrick was sitting in the front of this car wearing a metallic silver button-down. "What the …"
"Hey, my last spare shirt got bloodstained yesterday. This is all I got to wear unless you wanna swing by my place for somethin' else." Broad shoulders shrugged under shiny fabric as dark skin gleamed out of an open collar. "Or I could go with the exposed wife-beater look, if that's better." Now the collar was pulled aside to expose the narrow strap of a tank undershirt.
Grinning, Nick got the car back into the right gear and pulled out of the parking spot. "Aborted date?"
"Yeah, last week at the end of shift." Warrick yawned and the stretch that went with it pulled his body into a strained arch against the seat belt. "Cancelled when that shift turned into a double too."
Nick said the first thing that came to mind, just a little shocked at the words on his lips. "Poor girl, didn't know what she missed, did she?" Sort of frozen in his seat, he glanced across the front seat to see a please little smile on Warrick's face as he looked out the passenger's window. Something in his gut unwound and Nick relaxed into the act of driving.
"Yeah, maybe I'll give her another chance to find out."
Somehow the note of eagerness in Warrick's voice ratcheted a little tension back into Nick's nerves. "Lucky girl,"
000
Wow. No girl he'd gone out with had nearly 'head-on'ed a wall at the sight of this shirt before. Warrick smiled at the compliment Nick probably didn't even realize he'd given, not getting the curve off his lips until the car pulled into the overflowing parking lot. Not a cop car in sight. But ever so many patrons. Warrick watched tension climb vertebrae by vertebrae up Nick's back.
The level of immediate stress this place caused in Nick made Warrick hate it on sight. Anything that could hurt his... his friend... well, he just hated it. And he'd do nearly anything to make it stop. "Where'd Brass say the body was?"
Something in Nick's back loosened, but only slightly. "Alley at the back. Best access is through the kitchen."
"So let's go beard the lion in his den." That got him a smile and a turn of Nick's head away from the neon lights. Something in Warrick's back unknotted when those eyes met his, but only slightly. //Knew he'd like the bible reference.\\
"After you, Daniel."
Grabbing his field kit, Warrick beat Nick to the door. His whole purpose here was to protect Nick from… unwanted advances. It was harder to protect him from behind. Watching Nick's fingers clench around the handle of his case made him glad to have the eye-catching shirt. Anything to keep the unwelcome eyes and –heaven help them—hands off his Nick. Taking a deep breath, Warrick threw a comforting smile over his shoulder and entered the club.
Heat slapped him in the face, blocking his throat and drawing sweat from his every pore. "The drink profits must be through the roof."
Nick moved oddly close to his back. Only to be heard over the rhythmic pounding music, of course. "A bottle of water is five bucks."
Warrick found himself leaning back, but only slightly. "Now that's a crime."
"But we're here for a dead body, Warrick, so let's head for the kitchen. Away from the crowd." The tension in Nick's voice drew Warrick's attention to the way eyes all over this room were watching them. Heat trailed up and down his body before the eyes causing it moved over his shoulder.
To Nick. Even across the air between them, Warrick could feel muscles all over Nick's back tense up. "Yeah, man. Let's get this done."
Glares seemed to keep most of the… interested parties at a distance. And Warrick found himself doing a good portion of the glaring, trying to project possessiveness over Nick. Trying to pretend he was only pretending.
The bubble held intact until Warrick leaned over the bar to flag down a waiter. It was then that a hand moved into and out of the edge of his vision. Toward Nick.
The gasp could be heard even over the music and Warrick blinked to find a man's wrist in his hand, mere inches from Nick's shoulder.
"Relax, man, your… friend here just looked a little cold. I thought some dancing might warm him up."
It wasn't the body connected to the hand that reached for Nick that was talking. It was his… friend who was staring at them with a mixture of fear and eagerness. Looking at Nick like he was the special on the menu.
Stepping backward, closer to and half in front of Nick, Warrick grinned. His free hand shifted the loose edge of his shirt enough to flash his badge and the edge of his gun and holster. "My… friend has all the head he needs, right here. Back off and go find another friend." Fighting to open his grip, Warrick stepped further between Nick and his pursuers.
Nick, for his part, moved closer, angling himself behind Warrick's back. Close enough to almost touch.
"Seems insecure, even with those gorgeous eyes." The brave, or foolish, one smiled as he trailed a fingertip along the back of Warrick's hand. "Think he'll have more fun with us and you'll lose him?"
"No, I don't think so." Warrick's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the action that came with Nick's words. A chest pressed against his back and an arm crossed his shoulders to rest against the base of his throat. It was almost a hug. "Would you get bored with this around?" Warrick's brain soft of misfired as that hand stroked down his arm to loosely clasp his wrist. "Excuse us, gentlemen."
Warrick just grinned as Nick led him off, watching the two men watch them leave. He delighted an unhealthy amount in the disappointment on their faces, following Nick down the hall to the kitchen. That hand stayed warm around Warrick's wrist until after the kitchen door swung shut behind them.
Cold air hit the skin of his wrist and Warrick watched Nick lean against a wall, slumping slightly. The playful smile was gone from his face and his head dipped. "Nick?" Warrick found his own hand on Nick's shoulder, fingers spread to cover and sooth the tense muscles under his touch. "You okay, man?"
Nick straightened and Warrick found himself the recipient of another of those half-hugs. But this one lingered a bit, and his hands flattened against Nick's back for an instant. "Sorry about all that, Warrick… but it, it worked when Sara did it. And… I didn't like the way he was touching you."
Breath just stopped in his lungs as the words that slipped off Nick's lips paraded behind Warrick's eyes and ricocheted about his brain. Part of his mind whispered that he had reacted for exactly the same reason when that man had reached for Nick. "We guys gotta stick together. So let's go find out dead body."
A relieved smile curved those lips and Warrick felt himself smile back. Nick had that effect on him.
000