Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, though I wish I did. :) Just love 'em!

A/N: Join me on another flight of fancy through a world of my design using the CSIs we know and love. Hope you enjoy it. As always, let me know what you think!

This story is dedicated to all of my loyal fans who decided to take a chance on one or another of my stories, only to find themselves hopelessly addicted. :) Hope it lives up to your expectations!

Past, Present, Future

Chapter 1

The break room was quiet, and Greg Sanders had just sat down at the table with a steaming mug of his special blend Blue Hawaiian coffee. He sat, transfixed by the steam rising from the rich brown liquid, avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the room, because he knew what he'd see there.

It had only been days since Warrick Brown's memorial service, and everyone was still deeply affected by his loss. Catherine Willows was sitting across from him, her eyes red rimmed, as though she'd been crying again, and knowing how close she was to Warrick, she probably had been. Sara Sidle was sitting at the end of the table, looking a bit lost, as she didn't belong here anymore. At this point, though, she didn't have anywhere else to be. Greg suspected she wouldn't be here much longer, though. She'd slip away again, leaving everyone just as confused as the first time she'd left. Nick Stokes seemed to be taking Warrick's loss the hardest, though. The lines around his eyes and on his forehead seemed to have deepened in the past week. They appeared to be carved so deeply into his flesh that they had to cut into the bone beneath. His eyes were hollow with exhaustion, and the heavy bags under them spoke of too little to no sleep. Greg knew that it wasn't all due to the heavy workload and overtime caused by Warrick's loss.

At the heart of the matter was Warrick's loss. He and Nick had been best friends, often hanging out after work to play video games, have a beer or two. Greg wished there was some way he could ease the older man's pain. He'd had a crush on Nick for years, but being co-workers, he didn't want to jeopardize their friendship. Plus there was the slight problem that he was pretty sure that Nick was straight. Pretty sure because while Nick returned his playful flirtations, he was constantly talking about the girls he'd been out on dates with.

Greg thought the only other person who might have actually taken Warrick's loss harder than Nick was Gil Grissom, the graveyard shift supervisor of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Warrick had looked up to Grissom as the father figure he'd never known growing up.

When Grissom walked into the break room, assignment slips in hand, Greg's head snapped up instantly. He'd only just made CSI Level 1 in the past few months, so receiving an assignment still felt exciting, even with everything that had happened in the past week hanging over them.

When he spoke, Grissom's voice was quiet, as though he felt uncomfortable breaking into everyone's thoughts, and wished he didn't have to. "Catherine, you're still on that string of home invasions. Nick and Greg, you're working together tonight," he didn't elaborate on the case, just handed the slip to Nick. He then turned around and walked out, not even acknowledging Sara's presence.

Greg found this a bit odd, but shrugged it off, taking a mouthful of coffee. Standing, he approached Nick, who hadn't yet looked at their assignment. He had closed his eyes and was rubbing a large hand over his face, as though trying to wake up, which Greg figured was the truth of the matter.

Watching as Nick finally looked at the slip, Greg saw the color drain from Nick's face, heard him mutter, "Damn!" under his breath.

"What is it, Nick?" Greg asked quietly.

Nick didn't respond, though, just crumpled the paper in his fist and fled the break room. That's all Greg could come up with to call it. The older man hadn't stormed out as though he was angry, he'd just left quickly, as though he'd rather be anywhere but there at that moment.

Unsure of what to do, Greg took off in pursuit of Nick. Surely Nick wasn't fleeing from him? He'd asked a simple question. Nothing that should have caused the older man to run from him. So Greg came to the logical conclusion that it had to be something to do with the case they'd been handed, though he still had no idea what it was.

As he followed Nick, he caught sight of the older man heading off in the direction of Grissom's office.

Grissom's upraised hand kept Greg from entering the office. Nick – back to the door – either didn't know, or didn't care that he was there.

"I can't work this case, Gris. Put me on something else, let Greg work this one solo." Nick's southern drawl had deepened considerably, as it had a penchant for doing when he was extremely tired or stressed.

"There isn't anything else for you to work right now, Nick. Besides," and here Grissom's eyes met Greg's, "Greg's still green enough to need a more seasoned set of eyes on the case with him."

Greg tried not to let the comment get to him. It was Grissom's way of reminding him that he could get a bit overzealous at times, something the supervisor had assured him would become tempered with time and experience. Instead, he tried to concentrate on Nick's reaction to being told he had to work the case they'd been given. He watched as Nick's shoulders slumped in resignation, and wondered just what the hell the case was that it had Nick reacting this way.

Stepping into the office, Greg approached Nick, where the older man still stood facing Grissom's desk. He could see the assignment slip still clutched in Nick's hand, and gently pried it from his grip. Before Greg's eyes dropped to the slip of paper, Nick turned to look at him. The haunted look in his friend's eyes nearly broke Greg's heart.

With an effort, he dragged his gaze from Nick's, down to the crumpled paper he found himself gripping almost as hard as Nick had been. Forcing his fist to loosen, Greg did his best to straighten the paper, reading the words as he did so. The body of a young boy, obviously sexually assaulted, had been found in a vacant house undergoing renovations out in Henderson.

There it was, then. Greg knew that cases involving kids always hit Nick harder than the other CSIs. Nick must have felt that a case like this, coming so soon after Warrick's loss, was something that he wouldn't be able to handle.

Grissom spoke for the first time since Greg came into the office, "I'm sorry, Nick. You have to work the case."

Placing a hand gently on Nick's forearm, Greg quietly said, "Come on, Nick. We better get going."

Nick shook Greg's hand off his arm, with a spat out, "Fine!" to both men, then turned on his heel and left the office. He called back over his shoulder, "Coming, Greg?"

Giving Grissom a last look, Greg turned and followed his friend and co-worker.