CSI: Ghost: Chapter 7

A/N: As usual, I hope you enjoy this update, and don't forget to post a review cause I love feedback!

All Greg wanted at that moment was to escape the lab, get some fresh air, and try to forget everything that had been happening. He and Nick had already freaked out on each other earlier, and now, his Mom was freaking out too. How long would this go on? Would Catherine freak next? And then Warrick and Grissom? Or was this genetically and marriage related? It didn't matter. He wanted to keep this separate, but Nick's mother made that impossible. She had to call. For a stupid reason. It was only December first, after all. There was plenty of time to determine when they'd get off. If they even would this year, which he was beginning to doubt very much. And so she'd called and her call had alerted Nick who would go into full husband mode no matter where they were or what they were doing if he thought the situation required it, like a good son and husband should. Greg loved him for it, but at the same time it didn't help. If they were allowed to be close at work things would be different. He was going to go insane if he didn't get out of there soon. Never the less, he managed to keep his exterior as calm as possible. He didn't want to alert anyone to his issues, least of all, Nick. He would just have to wait it out and escape later as soon as he could.

"Ok, so what have we got so far?" Gil Grissom asked as he entered the layout room with a notepad under his arm.

"Well," Greg started off. "The latest crime scene was crazy, that's for sure. But it was definitely a match to the first. The same gun was used, same type of bullet. Underneath the dead lawyer, I found these papers with Tony Biggs's name on them." Greg pointed toward the bagged evidence and everyone followed his finger.

"So, Ben was stealing money from Tony?" Grissom asked for clarification.

"Apparently so. Now, none of the prints I found in the entire office belonged to anyone other than Liffan and his secretary, Jane. She had nothing to say when she found out. She said she clocked out at 5pm, her usual time, and left Liffan there, at the office, with the door locked. She said this was a normal occurrence. He always stayed late to catch up on work he missed. And since he's not married, he's got no where else to be, no one to miss him anywhere. The only place that would miss him is his desk. I did find one interesting thing though, the part that makes it crazy."

Everyone looked up in interest and then back down again at the table when Greg pointed toward the shoe prints he'd lifted off the beige carpet.

"Those are Liffan's shoe prints. And yes, that's blood transfer in the print. Which suggests that he was walking away from the desk after he got shot. Which, I did note, makes no sense since he was shot in the head and found dead in his desk chair. The blood was a single spatter, which transferred to the shoe, and was left in the print as the shoe walked out the door. But Liffan was wearing his shoes. Both of them. They weren't retied that I could tell. Both tied the same way. So, it makes no sense. It looks like no one else was there, but yet, someone had to be for the shoe prints to come out that way."

"Well, you did good work, Greg," Grissom commended. "I just wish it had gotten us a little more. What about you, Nicky, you find anything important?"

"I just went to talk to Biggs with these two. We got nothing out of him. Nothing at all."

"Yeah, he claims he didn't know Winters was a scum bag until after he'd lost his money and his drugs," Detective Omar said.

"Not only that, but he didn't know his lawyer was stealing from him either. Said he'd just found out the lawyer was scum too, and was going to bail as soon as he found a replacement. How do you like that? The guy's got so much money he didn't notice Liffan taking a bunch for himself every month. Crazy. I wish he'd share a little of that dough cause I sure could use some," Brass joked.

"Oh, and I did a search on Liffan's other clients, since Tony said others had complained too. It's true. No one seemed to like the guy much. One client of his even sent him a nasty Christmas card last year. So, if you're looking for one of them as a suspect, your list is a mile long. Personally though, this links up with Winters's death, so my money's on Tony," Greg said, doing his best to act as normal as possible when what he really needed was solitude. Solitude and a good cigarette.

"So, Griss, what have you got? You were looking further into the first scene with Winters and the other twelve, right?"

"Yeah. I got nothing there either. The time line I thought I could work out with their facial expressions really doesn't help us much. It all happened in just a few short minutes. I saw the tire treads you snapped Nick, and we're working on prints for those now, but it's not working. The car they're a match to normally, hasn't been seen in that area. And the shoe prints, well, outlines, that you also found on your perimeter search netted nothing. Distinct though. Like that other case where the guy got rid of his fingerprints. Which made him stand out even more, but here, it's only shoes. They can be taken off. So, there's no link unless we find someone wearing those shoes. However, we do have a little more information."

"We do?"

"Yeah, someone remembered a few killings last year that sounded similar. I dug through evidence and pulled up dozens of cases over the last few years that have been unsolved, but are remarkably similar. I want you, Nick and Greg, to go down to the evidence locker and bring up all those boxes. I think we're also going to have to bring in Catherine and Warrick once their cases are done. If all these are the same guy, or guys, this will quickly become a federal matter, and I don't want it to get that far. Ok?"

"Yeah, sure boss," Nick said, already on his way out the door.

Escape just wouldn't come fast enough for Greg.

Greg leaned on the side of the convenience store across the street from the lab. He hadn't even bothered with a bag. All he'd needed was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting up a smoke he slide the pack into his pocket along with the lighter. He brought the cigarette to his lips and enjoyed the first bit of nicotine that slid down his throat. Letting the smoke out in a smooth blow he already felt his body relaxing as he concentrated on the smoke curling up into the air.

He'd helped Nick carry the boxes from the evidence room and had even gone through some of them with him. But he was going more insane each moment he was stuck there. Claiming he needed a bathroom break and that he would be back shortly, he had darted out of the lab as soon as he could. But he knew he'd be gone a long while. He'd already been gone fifteen minutes. He hoped Nick wasn't worrying about his absence. He just needed some air, some alone time, with his phone off. He could joke about Nick's mother calling in front of other people a little, but the truth was that it unnerved him a great deal, no matter how much he told Nick he was fine. He didn't want this to make him go insane, though he was afraid it would, that perhaps it already had. In reality it was a minor thing. They had to keep their lives separate. That was all. But he'd devoted his last six years to it and so far everything had stayed put in it's proper place. He knew if he saw a therapist about it they'd probably label him as obsessed over it. But he had to be. They'd promised Ecklie they would stay professional at work, keep their lives separate just so they could stay on the graveyard shift together, so that they could even continue to work cases together. He knew if they slipped up, even once, even something as minor as Mom calling the wrong number, if Ecklie found out, not only would they be taken off the cases they worked together, but they'd be forced to split up and work on separate teams, to never see each other again. And there was always the chance their past cases could be called into question. Neither of these things were anything he wanted to think about. All he'd wanted was a simple life. To have a steady job and a husband who loved him. That's all he'd ever wanted his entire life. And since he'd had the chance, with the lab and then with Nick, he wanted nothing to go wrong.

He sucked in the nicotine and let the smoke out slowly, watching as it curled up into the air and disappeared. It was something simple, almost beautiful, the same way smoke was after blowing out a candle, except in that sense it smelled better. But he was a CSI now, and he could tolerate all sorts of horrible smells. A decomposing body was a lot worse then the cigarette in his hand.

He wasn't supposed to go to Stanford. He wasn't supposed to become the DNA Analyst at LVPD or a CSI. And once he'd gotten his dream job, he wasn't supposed to fall in love with Nick Stokes. Relationships within the lab were frowned upon. They were lucky Ecklie hadn't fired one of them on the spot when he found out. Greg was tired of having to slip into zones, to be forced to concentrate on only one aspect of his life at a time. Keeping them separate was hard, especially when he worked with the man he loved. Seeing Nick processing a crime scene, or talking to someone in the lab, he just wanted to be able to show his affection for the man in public, to be able to hold him and tell him how much he loved him after a rough case. He hated having to wait until they got home. He could feel the tension of his life draining him, as much as he loved his life and wanted nothing to change.

Even though being a CSI was his dream job, maybe it was time to consider a career change. He was sure there had to be something he could do nights, while Nick worked graveyard so that they could still see each other during the day. But could they survive without his pay for awhile if he quit? No, he knew another job wasn't going to help their situation. Nick would never allow him to quit his dream job just for this.

Greg sighed and blew out more smoke. His cigarette was almost gone and he was considering lighting up a new one before going back to work. He knew he'd been gone a long time, but he wasn't ready to go back just yet. He was still hoping Nick wouldn't worry about him being gone, especially if he tried to call and only got his voicemail.

Nick was worried. No, worried didn't begin to cover it. Greg had been gone for over half an hour, when he should have only been a few minutes. He'd looked all over the lab but no one had seen him. He'd just tried to call him and only got his voicemail. He knew Greg would catch his emotions in the message he'd left. He couldn't help it.

"You're looking for Greg?" Hodges asked when Nick nearly ran into him.

Nick backed up, and shook his head to clear it.

"Yeah. Have you seen him? And don't lie to me, Hodges. Cause if you do I'm not in a pleasant..."

"I know! I know, I'm not gonna lie to you! I swear! But awhile ago I saw him head across the street to the convenience corner. That was the last time I saw him."

Nick didn't even thank him as he rushed out the door, wondering why Greg was worrying him more and more with each passing day lately. Again, he knew it was going to be something minor, like the forgotten note. Nothing to freak out over, but he couldn't help himself. He had this funny feeling inside. Just when he was contemplating going back to therapy to see what was wrong with him he saw Greg. He'd know that outline anywhere.

But then he froze. What was Greg doing? There was a spark of light, a flame, and was that...? Nick walked over, slowly, trying to calm his own nerves, when he saw that his husband was actually shaking. He wasn't sure if he should be upset or worried, but he knew something was wrong. Something had to be because he'd never known Greg to smoke in all the years they'd known each other and the five that they'd been married. He wondered if he should ask Greg what was wrong, or yell at him for killing himself with nicotine. But then he didn't have to choose because Greg turned around and saw him standing there, and the look on his face, before he registered Nick's presence, was as if he'd seen a ghost.

Nick was by his side in an instant putting an arm around Greg's shoulders.

"Nick?" Greg shrugged out of his grasp. "What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you. I got worried when you didn't come back and no one had seen you. Are you ok? And why are you smoking?" He couldn't help himself, the question just slipped out of his mouth so easily.

Greg edged away from him, the cigarette shaking in his hand as he moved it to his lips.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine. Really. I was just about to come back. I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

"Greg, how can you get fresh air with that smoke?"

"It's an old habit. I was forced to get into smoking when I was in that gang. And I got hooked. It calms me down. I just... I stopped, when I was at Stanford. Quit. And I haven't needed it since."

"But now you do. Why? What's wrong?" Nick asked, quietly.

"Your mother called," Greg blurted.

"Oh, honey, come on."

Nick moved closer again.

"No. No, don't go into husband mode. Not here. Not now. You have to wait. Please."

"We're not at work right now, G."

"Yes. We are. I can see the lab from here. Anyone could see us and we're still on the clock. Don't touch me."

Though his face was wreathed in shadows Nick could hear the pain in Greg's voice and it almost broke his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Fine, I'll stand right here," he said. "But it has to be more than what you're telling me. I know you get into zones and you don't like it when they meet, but you're shaking. And I haven't seen you do that since..."

"I know. She freaked out, alright? She reminded me of things I wanted to forget. I don't like to think that I almost lost you once."

"Hey, I almost lost you too, you know."

"I know. I'm sorry. It just... I almost freaked out again. And almost freaking out freaked me out. I just needed to calm down. I'm fine. I'll be fine. And don't worry, I got some of your favorite gum to cover the smell. I know how much you hate cigarette smoke."

"G, it's not the smell I'm worried about so much. It's the fact that those things will kill you over time, and lord knows I don't want to lose you, especially to something you can control."

Greg lay awake in bed early the next morning letting his thoughts rule his mind. Nick was right behind him, holding him close in that way that always calmed him down and comforted him when he was troubled. This time, it wasn't working. But he didn't want to tell Nick what was going on. He couldn't tell Nick just how deep his fears went. His lives were leaking together, in a very bad way. It was scaring him, because he knew they could do damage to the perfect life he'd built around Nick if anything happened. He loved Nick with everything he had and he didn't want anything to happen to them, anything to come between them, but he was afraid something would arise out of his lives colliding and pull them apart. This simple life was what he'd always wanted. Nothing more. But it was a life he wasn't supposed to have, which meant that something would surely come and yank him away from it. He saw the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand and remembered the smoking. It was a bad habit, and Nick hated it. That alone would take him away from his love. He would have to throw the rest away. He would have to forge on, like always, and not let a single, innocent, phone call ruin everything he'd worked hard for.

Something deep down in his soul told him they wouldn't be going to Dallas for Christmas that year. It repeated over and over and over again in his mind like a broken record that refused to stop. The thought filled his mind so completely that he almost didn't feel Nick's thumb gently rubbing a small section of his bare chest, letting him know he was still there. And then a beautiful kiss landed on his shoulder.

"I love you," Nick whispered into his ear as he stared off into the darkness.

Nick knew Greg was awake as he wrapped his arm around him and held him tight. He wondered what was really going on in his mind. When they'd gotten home Greg had gone straight to bed without breakfast, claiming he wasn't hungry and didn't want to talk about what had happened. Something was bothering Greg big time, he just didn't know what it was. In the past five years they'd been married Greg had been cool and calm in almost any circumstance and was always in control. He'd made leaps and bounds since the lab explosion and the beating. But now? Suddenly it was like they were going back in time again, only this time things seemed worse. He knew Greg didn't like to think of his lives colliding together and they were. The first time he'd pulled his gun on him, bringing his love life into his work life. Then his past with the gang came up with ballistics. And that night his Mom had called, once again bringing his private life smack into his work life.

Sure Nick knew they had to keep things separate in order to work together, but Greg was taking things a little too far. Maybe he should suggest seeing someone about it, maybe a therapist could help him. Or maybe he could quit CSI and find another job at night, so they wouldn't have to worry so much about the PDAs. But could they live without the combined income until he found another job? No, that wouldn't work because he knew Greg would hate the idea of him quitting his dream job. There wasn't much he could do except show his support and keep doing as they'd always done, keeping things separate.

And then he remembered that Greg had told his Mom he'd call her when they got home and he'd forgotten. He prayed that she wouldn't freak out and call them, because right now, Greg needed him more than his mother need to know when they were getting home for Christmas. If they were able to. The way things were going, he had a feeling a nice quiet Christmas with just himself and Greg would be the better idea, especially if Greg's currently worked up state continued into Christmas.

There was nothing he could do other than show support and let Greg know how much he still loved him, how much he always would, no matter what. He absentmindedly began to rub his thumb over his husband's smooth skin, which helped to calm his own worries, and he hoped, Greg's as well. He leaned over and gently brushed his lips over Greg's shoulder before whispering "I love you" into his ear.

Greg turned over to face him and he saw a few tears escaping down his cheeks. He wanted to say something, to ask what was wrong, but he didn't. He knew Greg wouldn't say anything if he did. Instead, he brushed the tears away quietly.

"You're so perfect," Greg whispered, locking eyes with him. "I love you so much."

Nick just pulled him closer and let him burrow his head in the crook of his shoulder until they'd both fallen asleep.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!