Rise of the Grasshopper – Part 1

By Ms. Maggs

After watching Nick and Greg in the episode, I had the itch to write.

A/N: It's an independent story from my other stories. (But since I'm a fan of parallel universes (LOST!) I always have to include a recognizable supporting character or two from my other stories.

Strutting into the soothingly decorated office that reminded him of his Nana's home, Greg unfurled a sunny smile. "Morning, Doc."

Dr. Sylvia Myers lowered her new reading glasses and matched the intensity of her patient's grin. "Good Morning to you."

"I almost didn't recognize you with those new peepers and the new do."

"You're always so observant, CSI Sanders." She patted her freshly dyed honey-blonde and sophisticatedly bobbed hair. "My granddaughter is graduating next month. I thought I'd update my look for the affair."

"Won't she be surprised when a cougar shows up instead of her grandmother?" He punctuated his comment with a cougar growl and a paw in the air.

After a chuckle, she sweetly asked, "How are you feeling today?" He was positively radiant, light years from how he appeared when he had first trudged into her office four years ago as a physically and mentally battered man who had just killed Demetrius James.

"Fantastic!" he answered while opening the doctor's mini-fridge and grabbing a complimentary bottle of water.

Sylvia replied with a familiar inside joke, "So your mother finally made good on her threat and moved to an island without cell phone service?"

Laughing, he plopped down onto his favorite overstuffed green leather chair. "No, if that happened I would have bought a magnum of champagne for us to split."

"I'll be out of job if your mother ever makes good on her threat."

"Nah, we both know my mom is only 7/8ths of my problem, so I would still need to see you." Truthfully he couldn't imagine not seeing her twice a month. As a single guy and only child, he didn't have a loved one or sibling to openly talk to about the stress and baggage in his life. He used to confide in Sara, but once she became seriously involved with Grissom the dynamic of their relationship changed and he no longer felt comfortable baring his soul to her. "I'll be coming here until you retire."

"So, don't keep me in suspense, tell me what has you beaming from ear to ear this morning?"

"I just cracked a case and not just any case. I solved the murder of another Vegas legend."

"I remember hearing something on the news this morning. Bernie Nash, right?

"None other." With excitement building in his voice, he said, "It was unbelievable. Instead of being front row at the Knuckles and Nash reunion on Saturday night, I ended up with a backstage pass to Nash's untimely demise."

"Wow."

"Yeah." He beamed with pride. "And guess which superstar CSI couldn't figure out the key to the whole mystery?"

After four years, the doctor knew her patient well. "From the look on your face I'd say the answer is Nick."

"Bingo!" He laughed, remembering that Bingo was the name of the stage manager they busted. "I schooled him for the tenth time, not that I'm keeping track." Relaxing into the fluffy pillows, he sighed, "Yep, once again, the grasshopper taught the master."

"How did that make you feel?"

"For twenty seconds I felt completely and totally superior. Then I remembered the plethora of geek-tastic moments I had already had in front of Nick that day and got over myself."

"Example."

"There's so many to chose from. Hmm. I'll go with blabbering on about Viagra."

"Viagra?"

"The case context being that at Bernie Nash's age, he probably needed help to make it with a showgirl, but somehow I ended up proclaiming the functionality of my penis." Lifting his eyes to the ceiling he replayed the scene in his mind. "First I very innocently said something like 'I guess you're never too old with the little blue pill', which would have been fine if I had stopped there, but I kept talking." He mocked himself, "'I even know guys my age using it. I mean guys who need a boost…other guys…not me."

"And what was Nick's reaction?"

"He just did his usual 'stare and smile' thing while waiting for me shut up, which I didn't. He eventually ended the tortuous ramble by telling me to check out what he had found under the microscope." Greg's radiant smile returned. "But we both know he just does that so he can check out my ass on the sly. Right, Doc?"

Sitting in his truck in the medical building parking lot, Nick couldn't stop staring at the results from his required annual physical exam. "I can't believe this." The thought of having to tell Catherine he failed his physical made his blood boil and he felt a familiar tension bubbling up inside him. "Dammit!" The bad news kept replaying in his mind…

Stunned by the news Nick loudly insisted, "I workout five days a week for cryin' out loud. I'm in great shape. I can't have hypertension."

"Mr. Stokes…" Dr. Manuel Ortiz, a thirty-one year old jock himself, felt the man's pain. "Unfortunately, exercise alone sometimes isn't enough to…"

"Maybe the nurse didn't do it right." The desperate man rationalized, "She seemed pretty young. Did she just get out of school? Or is she an intern? We have interns at the lab and they screw things up all the time."

"Sandi has been with the practice for three years and has a spotless work record."

"Oh." Nick's mind jumped to the next logical possibility. "Then the cuff must be broken." Holding out his arm, he pleaded, "Take it one more time with a different cuff."

"I wouldn't be able to get an accurate reading when you're this tense." To end the debate, Dr. Ortiz put the cuff on himself. "I'll take my blood pressure. It normally reads about 100/70. If it's off the charts, then we'll know it's the cuff. Sound good?"

"Thanks."

When Nick frustration escalated when he saw the numbers 100/68 pop up on the digital display. "Son of a…"

"Mr. Stokes, I know this is upsetting for you, but it's not a death sentence if you heed my advice. Trust me, I do LE and Fire Department physicals all the time and this is a common scenario. Hypertension runs in your family, you're in a high-stress occupation with demanding hours, you drink a ton of coffee to compensate for sleeping poorly, you eat high sodium/high fat fast food on the run, and you don't have a personal life. If you didn't exercise as much as you do, you might be in a crisis situation by now. Be grateful we're having this conversation in my office and not the hospital."

Nick quietly gave up the fight. "Okay, okay, tell me what I have to do."

"You have sixty days to improve your reading and get an all clear from me." While handing over a bag of pamphlets, the doctor spoke in an optimistic tone. "A combination of medication will lower it fast, but I'd recommend that as a last resort."

"Yeah, I'm nearing forty, so the last thing my ego needs is a weekly pill box full of heart medication."

"With someone as active as you, I always recommend lifestyle change first. If you can follow the suggestions, I know you'll be successful. Just cutting your caffeine intake in half and reducing sodium to 1500mg a day should help significantly. Make an appointment for next month and we'll see if you're making progress. If not, I'll prescribe the meds so you can get an all clear. The office will call you with your blood work results in a few days." Before leaving the room, he made one last suggestion. "I've had a lot of patients experience success by doing yoga three times a week. There's a flier in your bag for two free Body Flow classes at the gym across the street. It's a great class - a combination of Tai Chi, yoga, pilates and meditation. All you need to get started is a mat and an open mind."

"Yoga?" Nick laughed at the idea. "Pilates? Doc, c'mon, do I really seem like the kind of guy who would do that stuff?"

"No, you seem like a tightly wound, beef-eating, caffeine-binging, jock cop with hypertension. Do you even know how to relax? When was your last vacation?"

"My parents' 50th anniversary. I flew back home to Texas, but now that I think about it, I wouldn't call it a vacation."

"Can you even remember the last time you felt really relaxed?"

"Yeah, it was about six years ago. I went fishin' in Key West. It's a beautiful place to fish."

"I completely agree." The doctor grinned. "Did you go to Benny's when you were there?"

Nick tensely answered, "I don't see how that question is pertinent to my condition."

The doctor quickly apologized for the error. "Sorry, I..."

"Drop it."

"I honestly thought you were casting a line."

"I wasn't."

The doctor backpedaled, "My mistake and a completely unprofessional one at that. I can get someone else to come in if…"

"No, no." Nick paused for a deep breath. "It did sound like I was fishing. Sorry for snappin' at ya. I just have this thing about feelin' trapped. I get a little defensive."

"Yeah, I think your pressure just notched another ten points. I mean this in all seriousness, Mr. Stokes, you really need to learn to relax."

"You're not the first person to tell me that."

"I can refer you to an excellent therapist."

Nick quickly changed the subject. "Yeah, I went to Benny's."

"Nice deflection." Dr. Ortiz smiled. "Let me guess, you think therapy is a worthless as yoga."

"No, it's done a world of good for a buddy of mine, but it's not for me. I went to three mandated sessions after somethin' happened to me on the job and that was enough to last me a lifetime."

"Okay, back to yoga."

"C'mon, guys don't do yoga, well I know some do, Greg does, but not guys like me."

The doctor lowered his voice an octave. "You mean real men?"

A sheepish smile fanned over Nick's lips.

Before reaching for the door knob, Dr. Ortiz decided to dispense a parting thought. "Real doctors know that high blood pressure causes erectile dysfunction while yoga and pilates actually improve a guy's performance by increasing flexibility, strengthening the core, and increasing blood flow to every part of the body. Think of it as the natural alternative to 'the little blue pill', which you will most definitely need if you start taking the meds. But if that's not important to you…"

"Where can I buy a yoga mat?"

On his way out, Dr. Ortiz answered in a husky voice, "Real men shop at Sports Authority!"

"So how did you end up solving the case?" Dr. Myers sat back and waited for the details.

"I remembered that Knuckles wore a brown toupee."

"I thought you said the hair you found was red."

"It was."

"So how does a brown toupee help?"

"That's what Nick said, right before I dazzled him with my intimate knowledge of discrete hair coloring and the importance of highlights and lowlights to achieve certain effects. I bet him that we'd find red hair in the toupee and we did."

"What did you win?"

"Bragging rights and breakfast." His grin expanded. "Nick didn't remember he had an appointment for his annual physical and cholesterol test until we got there, so on top of being schooled by the grasshopper, he had to drink water while I ate my free breakfast."

Depressed and starving, Nick pulled off the road and into the In-And-Out Burger drive-thru. Remembering the doctor's advice on sodium reduction, he reluctantly asked, "Hi. Um…do you by any chance know how much sodium is in a double-double combo?"

An energetic boy's voice immediately answered, "Yes, we have a nutritional informational chart with all the details; I just have to add up the components. A double-double combo contains 1777mg of sodium."

Remembering his daily intake wasn't supposed to exceed 1500, he asked, "How much is it if I don't get the soda?"

"1765."

Since no one was behind him, he asked one more question, "What if I don't get the fries or the soda?"

"1520."

"Really?" he whined as his stomach growled. "Just make it a large iced tea, thanks." While the delicious aroma of seared beef filled his nostrils, he pulled up to the window to retrieve his unwanted beverage. "This sucks."

Travis, a seventeen year old boy with Asperger's Syndrome who consistently won employee of the month, carefully handed over the cup. "Here you go, sir - one large iced tea and a straw. Would you like sugar, sugar substitute, or lemon with that?"

"Sir?" The last thing Nick wanted to feel was old. "Do I look like your dad?"

"No." Travis smiled and honestly answered the seemingly random question. "My dad has blonde hair and he's a lot younger than you. Would you like sugar, sugar substitute, or lemon?"

"Lemon, thanks." The depressed man mumbled, "It matches my sour mood."

"Come back again."

"In sixty days," Nick grumped, "count on it."

"Okay, sir," Travis instantly replied, "I'll see you on June 28th."

Nick drove away shaking his head. "And I thought Greg was quick at math."

"With age comes wisdom." Greg informed the doctor, "My birthday is next week. The big 3-5."

"Yes, I know, I even have a little gift for you at the end of the session."

"Thanks."

"How do you plan to celebrate?"

"I'll be at work, so it'll be cake in the breakroom and breakfast at the diner."

"You could take the day off," Sylvia suggested.

"And spend my birthday alone? Nah." Greg shook his head and forced a smile. "Then I'd just stay home and get drunk and depressed."

"Have you been making an effort to establish interests outside of work?"

"I have a lot of interests outside of work." He explained, "I have my writing. After this latest case, I'm seriously considering a book on Knuckles and Nash. I play Rock Band and do yoga five times a week. And recently I got a pet turtle."

"What about outside interests that involve people? Have you tried any of the things we discussed during our last session?"

"I thought I'd wait until after my birthday, because what's more depressing than getting rejected by someone right before your birthday." Anxious about the subject matter, he rambled, "I guess getting dumped on your birthday would actually be worse, but not as bad as getting dumped on Valentine's Day or New Year's Eve, that would be really bad…not that I've ever had someone in my life on either of those days."

"Greg…"

"No, really, I am going to make an effort." He nodded to convince her and himself. "I have to. It's like Noah's Ark at the lab right now. Everyone's pairing up, even the previously unwanted beasts like Hodges. That dork actually had a decent woman throw herself at him in the middle of the lab. Hodges. Unbelievable. And Nick and I have a sneaking suspicion that Catherine and Vartann are going at it like rabbits between every shift." Feeling pathetic, he slumped in his chair. "The worst was when I heard Sara getting frisky on the phone with Grissom."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Horny actually." His goofy laughed returned. "But so does watching National Geographic animal mating scenes, so take it with a grain of salt."

After washing down his low-sodium turkey sandwich with a bottle of water, Nick tossed his deli container into the trash can outside of Sports Authority and hurried inside. He had been in the store many times for running shoes and workout wear, but he hadn't a clue where to find a yoga mat.

"Excuse me." He flagged down an attractive female sales clerk.

"Hi, I'm Tammy, how can I help you today?"

"Hi, Tammy, I'm lookin' to buy a yoga mat for my niece's birthday. Where would I…"

"Holistic section."

"Holistic?" The word was foreign to him.

"The Mind/Body section. On the left wall, about half way through the store." The single, thirty year old decided to escort the hunk. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Thanks." Nick felt his testosterone rapidly declining as he walked past the barbells and the dumbbells on his quest for a yoga mat.

"We just received a shipment of really cute pink and yellow mats." She plucked one from the shelf. "I'm sure your niece would love one of these."

"Actually, she's not a girly-girl type of girl. She's um…into nature, so probably somethin' in a green or blue would be more her style."

"How about this one?" The clerk grabbed a powder-blue and white mat from the display.

"Uh…" Nick scratched his head. "I was thinkin' more like a dark blue."

"It's for you, isn't it?"

After glancing around, the jock reluctantly confessed, "Yeah. Trust me, I'd much rather punch a heavy bag or run six miles, but my girlfriend's really into this stuff and she wants me to try it."

"I don't blame her." Tammy let her eyes linger on the man's ass. "I'd love to be behind you during downward dog." She winked. "I wonder if your girlfriend's happy baby pose is as good as mine.

"I have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds dirty as hell."

Jealous of the stranger's girlfriend, Tammy sighed, "Don't worry, I'm sure your girlfriend will be more than happy to demonstrate all the positions and explain the lingo to you so you're not the token clueless newbie in the class.

After feeding his turtle, Greg took a seat on the couch with his lap top and a second bottle of Corona. "Twenty-six new emails and half of them are from my mommy. Cut the cord, Mrs. Sanders!" he yelled at the screen. "I'm going to be thirty-five next week." When his cell phone rang a moment later, he assumed she had heard him and called to chew him out for being an ungrateful son.

Instead of seeing his mother's name on the screen, he saw it was Nick calling. "Greg Sanders, superstar CSI, is celebrating his latest success with a beer right now and is therefore unable to come to the phone, so if this is his supervisor calling, you'll need to find another sucker to take the extra shift. Beeeeeeeeeep."

"Very funny. You should ask Knuckles if you could be his new partner."

"He's a little old for me, don't you think?" Laughing along with Nick, Greg lifted his beer to his mouth. "If we played the prison I'd least I'd be guaranteed a date after the show."

"Hey, Chuckles, I need a favor."

Wishing Nick would call about something other than work for once, Greg whined, "Seriously, I'm on my second beer and I'm beat."

"I don't need you to come to work. I need your help with something personal and I called to see if I could come over."

"Yeah, sure." Greg jumped off the couch to tidy up. "What time?"

"Ten seconds. I'm on the front steps of your condo."

Intrigued by the spontaneous visit, he hurried to open his front door. "Hey," he said into his cell phone. "What do…"

"You can hang up now, genius."

"Right." Greg snapped his phone shut. "Cool! You got me a new yoga mat for my birthday."

"Your birthday isn't until next week. It's my yoga mat."

"Whoa. You doing yoga has to be a sign of the apocalypse."

Nick handed over his physical form. "I have to lower my blood pressure pronto and the doctor suggested yoga. I don't know shit about…"

"Dude!" Greg stared at the number. "My grandfather has lower blood pressure than you."

"Enough with the jokes. Are you gonna help me or not?"

"You know I'd do anything for you. Of course I'll help you." The concerned friend nodded. "Come on in."

Thanks for reading! Part 2 to follow.

Maggs