For prompt_in_a_box #27: "But send me the miles and I'll be happy to follow you Love" (Many the Miles)

Nicky,

Went to help another lab with some back-logged paperwork and cases. Should be back in two weeks. I'll call you when I can.

Greg.

***

Nick rubbed his tired eyes, trying to make sense of Greg's note. Greg's notes, emails, and text messages all tended to be long-winded, like his love when he talked incessantly. He was always gushing with information, mostly unnecessary information, but the one time Nick needed information, Greg decided to be terse and to the point. No information on where he went, no contact information, no "I'll miss you," or "I love you," or even a "Goodbye". Nothing. Just twenty-six short words that weren't enough to tell him anything of substance.

Was he planning this trip? Did he request time off and not tell me? Did he buy a plane ticket? Did he even tell Grissom? Why didn't he tell me he was going somewhere? Where is he? Questions ran rampant through Nick's mind, more questions than Nick had answers to; questions that Nick should have answers to as the boyfriend.

Nick hit speed-dial number one for the fifth time since he got home, and once again there was no answer, just the voice of his lover informing him that he had reached Greg Sanders and to please leave a message. Worried, and more than slightly annoyed, Nick jabbed at the 'end call' button on his phone, using all of his restraint not to throw the phone across the room. It wasn't like Greg to ignore his calls.

Needing an answer to at least one of his questions, Nick hit speed-dial number three and waited impatiently for Grissom to answer. Fully aware that his supervisor would be asleep at this time of day, Nick didn't care because all he wanted was answers as to where Greg disappeared to and why.

"Grissom," the sleepy voice came over the line, causing Nick to fight his worry over Greg's absence.

"Grissom," he said slowly, giving the man a chance to wake up and giving himself a moment to calm his voice. "It's Nick. I was wondering if Greg requested some time off recently, and if you knew where he was going. I got a really weird note from him."

On the other side of Vegas, Grissom rolled back over in bed, thankful it wasn't a call to a scene. "Nick," the older man sighed, "Greg contacted me earlier. He had some vacation time built up that he needed to take, and his help was requested at another lab for the next two weeks so I told him that he could go. Why?"

"No reason," Nick answered quickly, trying to cover up his mistake of calling Grissom with feigned indifference. "It was just a very odd to get a note from Greg since it didn't say much of anything, and I couldn't get in touch with him on his cell."

"Go to bed, Nick," Grissom tried to disguise a yawn on his end of the line, "You just got off a double and you have to be at work in a few hours."

"Okay, thanks, Grissom," Nick wrapped up the call, clicking end and dropping his phone onto the kitchen counter.

Pacing the length of the living room Nick tried in vain to calm his mind, failing as the questions circled and multiplied as minutes became hours. Every so often he dialed Greg's number with the same result, until he was dialing it only to hear the recorded message in his lover's voice.

"Greg, it's me again," Nick sighed, "please call me back as soon as you get this. I'm worried."

Unable to calm himself enough to sleep, Nick struggled with the idea of taking a shower. The warm water might be enough to calm him and let the exhaustion take over, but he might miss Greg's call while in the shower. Choosing to turn his ringer up as loud as possible and set it on the edge of the sink, Nick got into the shower, the room seeming larger and more empty than usual without Greg standing at the sink getting ready for the day. The warm water ran over his shoulders, easing away the tension of the double-shift, but unable to relieve the worry about Greg's well-being. In the last two years they hadn't gone more than ten hours without at least texting each other and the separation was weighing on him heavily.

By the time he got out of the shower thirty minutes later there were still no calls to his cell phone. In an effort to quickly get dressed and out of the empty bedroom that had once felt so warm and inviting but now only seemed oppressive and lonely, Nick failed to notice the absence of his old Texas A&M sweatshirt in the closet. Nor did he notice the closed lid of Greg's laptop that was still radiating heat from its place on the dresser.

Once back in the relative safety of the living room and kitchen areas, Nick decided he would try one more time to get in touch with his boyfriend. After that, it was up to Greg to call him back. Standing in front of the refrigerator, Nick dialed the number for Greg's mom that was stuck to the metal with a strawberry-shaped magnet, in the off chance he had gone back to California.

"Hello?" a pleasant voice answered on the second ring, startling Nick from his thoughts.

"Oh, um, hi, Mrs. Sanders," Nick stuttered, stumbling over his words as he spoke to his boyfriend's mother for the first time. "This is Nick Stokes, I'm a friend of Greg's."

"Oh, hello Nick," she seemed surprised to be getting a call from him, and why wouldn't she be? It wasn't like Greg's friends called his mother out of the blue all the time.

"Hi, um," he continued struggling to form a complete, coherent thought. "I was wondering if you've heard from Greg recently."

"No, I haven't. Is everything alright? Is Greg hurt? Where is he?" Greg's mom was beginning to get worried, her voice getting higher with each question, and Nick kicked himself for making her panic.

"No, no, ma'am, he's fine," he tried to reassure her. "He took a couple weeks off to help out at another lab, but he didn't tell me where. I was wondering if he had gone back to California and had contacted you, because I can't seem to get in touch with him," he rushed through his words, trying to make it sound as if they were nothing more than friends. "I just had an important question for him about a case we worked a few weeks ago."

"Oh," it was obvious she had calmed down from his words. "No, I'm sorry son, but I can't help you. I haven't talked to Greg in over two weeks. If I do hear from him, I'll be sure to tell him that you called, though," she promised. "I have to go now, dinner is done and I have to get it out of the oven."

"Thank you," Nick managed to get out before the line clicked off and he was left listening to dead air. That was odd.