Disclaimer:All characters belong to CSI and are not mine - I'm just borrowing them. I promise they will be cared for and fed and watered and returned in pristine condition (some may have a slight hangover…). BUT until I'm given Season 9 to entertain me, they are mine to play with… as I like…
The idea for this came from the final scene of season 6 opener 'Bodies in Motion'.
Author Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this too!! Especially those who are STILL taking the time to review and all the new people who take the time to put me on their story and favourite alert lists. I am so honoured. THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!
Stars In Motion.
By Rianne.
Chapter Fourteen.
It was getting closer.
The moment when he would have to leave the car, leave his friends; step out into the night air.
Walk up the quiet and deserted path.
Lonely. Alone. It had never really bothered him before. He'd always had his family, his friends, and a string of pretty women.
But now…
He'd twist his key in the lock, he'd ignore the way the door creaked open loud in the silence, not so subtly reminding him of all the household maintenance he was weeks behind on.
Just another thing he was slipping with. He'd made a list, but there was so much else to do. Time seemed to slip away faster when you were aware of just how precious each minute was.
Aware of how his control was slipping.
Then he'd step inside, unwelcomed by the silence. Instinctively reach for the lights.
Then he'd hear it. Hear the whir of his ceiling fans kick in.
There was no way to stop them humming to life. They were automatic, came alive in union with the light bulbs flare, and for some reason, every damn time he forgot. He reached instinctively into the darkness out of habit and routine and turned the main lights before he could think to stop himself.
Then at the first wave of the sound the memories would come, triggered, crashing and heavy black.
He'd been living by torchlight and lamplight for the last few weeks. Stumbling about half blind by TV glow and fridge glow and moonlight.
He couldn't stand to hear those fans whir.
Couldn't stand to be in complete darkness either.
Thank goodness he worked nights, his crazy schedule gave the oddly comfortable excuse to sleep in the day.
Attempt to sleep.
Mainly to laze and doze fitfully by the protective, illuminating light of the sun.
But it made a difference to the short moments when he did find rest to open his eyes to sunlight and not a vast expanse of jet-black darkness.
He'd dress as the sun went down, sluggish and nowhere near ready to start, unwilling to go and reluctant to stay.
Living his life in the shadows.
Work at night was now habitual, ritual, regular as the clock; there was something comforting and safe in the ample blue glow and familiar surroundings and routines of the Lab.
There were others there. That was what it all boiled down too. Familiar faces.
Not that he'd ever be able to voice it to those whose mere presence fought off the clutching, vice-like fingers of his demons, but he was thankful.
And he needed to get those ceiling fans replaced. And soon.
Soon, before he rippled them down from his ceiling with his own bare hands.
Forget the rolling Las Vegas heat; he'd get some small air con units. To hell with saving energy and the earth, he'd recycle more instead.
But he would do anything to get some rest. It was becoming a daily struggle to lay claim to, a natural sustenance like water and food and yet his body fought it.
He was so tired, but sleep wasn't sleep when it came, it was terrors.
But he was so very tired.
It was a different kind of tired than it used to be.
It was no longer the weary of the double or triple shift. No this tired was the bone ache and headache and heartache of the traumatised. This tired was of the broken, couldn't be fixed by a few days rest or a time with sleeping pills.
It dulled the eyes and the brain and slowly killed the humanity in you.
But he couldn't admit to that. Couldn't tell anyone.
They'd know then that he wasn't strong. That he had lost his energy, his humour, his emotional strength.
They'd know then that he was going slowly crazy, there would be more hospital, more pills, more looks of pity and he didn't need that.
He was fine.
He just didn't want to go home alone right now. He couldn't do it.
He was grasping desperately and ineffectively at straws, at thin air, at anything.
Yet he had to go home, it was inevitable, he had to go at some time. He couldn't keep trying to entangle himself in the lives of his friends. Warrick was a husband now, Catherine had Lindsay, and Grissom and Sara were creatures of private habits.
He had tried his best, he'd tempted and taunted, and pleaded with every excuse he could think of, but his friends were tired, and he understood, he felt their longing for their own comfortable beds and homes and sleep-time routines.
Just like he did.
But he longed for a sleep-routine from a million years ago, before the darkness, the fan, the insects, and the dirt.
He was overstaying his welcome, he could see it in their eyes.
But he was drowning inside.
Think man, think fast.
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"Here we go Nicky," Sara's soft and lazy voice called to him as she slid the car to the curb by his place.
The darkened windows of number three did nothing to invite, the surrounding apartments black too, dark and empty.
Or full of those who possessed the enviable power to sleep peacefully.
Turning back to the others, dragging his eyes from his unwelcoming home with ease, he leant forward placing a gentle palm on Sara's shoulder, dipping his head by hers so he could whisper to her. Lips level with her ear he began murmuring his apologies for distracting her earlier, watching mildly curious, as the curve of her cheek by his nose blushed gently at the mention. She moved back from him, turning her face away, but he caught her rolling her eyes and biting her lip quite clearly in the reflective surface of the car window.
He simply put her reaction down to embarrassment, she was ashamed that the usually controlled Sara Sidle had allowed that precious command of her faculties slip, that she was upset with herself for not managing to maintain her usual tough girl façade, the one everyone saw right through to the sweet heart beneath. That was the reason they all adored her.
In reality she was ducking away from the intensely focused expression on Grissom's face.
He was taunting her, she could practically see him counting the seconds down till they would be rid of these two interferences they calmly called friends. He was teasing her, easily able to lip read Nick's whispered words, and he very slowly crossed his eyes at the half drunken, half slurred apology. He looked ready to drag the younger man out if the car by his ear if he thought it would make his exit any quicker. Yet the smile her gave her, which was followed by a sly wink, was gently underwritten by a soft scoring of concern and affection. He knew he had a lot of ground to make up with her over the whole 'red head Rebecca' misunderstanding and he planned to have some fun doing that!
Biting her lip she had just had to look away, rolling her eyes in an attempt to smother the laughter.
There was that flare of pleasurable secret warming them again, a subtle understanding between herself and Grissom that she had thought they had long lost.
Leaning back to Sara and kissing her flushed cheek, Nick slapped Grissom's shoulder and kissed Catherine's cheek too before saying his goodnights as he let his palm come down on the handle.
Nick opened the car door as if he was forcing some old world heavy wooden portcullis, unprepared to take on the night and all its shadows.
He let each foot land heavily on the curb. Hoisting his body after them. Stretching his arms up to the sky, in a long growling extension.
Leaving the back door open he reached into his back pockets fumbling for his keys. He felt the immediately recognisable metal sharp of them in his front hip pocket, but he avoided that one as a new surge of purpose dawned.
He creased his forehead into a frown, watching Catherine lean towards him across the back seat, and Sara lean on the driver's window switch, slowly revealing her with the hum and glide of the electric motor.
Good they were paying attention.
"You okay, Nicky?" Sara asked once the glass had disappeared into its slot in the car door.
"Keys," he mumbled, dragging the contents of his pockets out into his hands, phone, gum, wallet, spare change.
Sara flicked her eyes again to Grissom's.
He was leaning on his hand, elbow on the door, his finger brushing across his lips, the epitome of impatience.
Her belly flared with a sudden rush of nervous anticipation. She'd be dropping him off last…
Distracted by the sweeping motion she focused only on that finger and its caressing for a moment before Nick cursed behind her and she shook the vivid daydreams from her head with a short jerk which she saw didn't go unnoticed by Grissom.
"Where'd you have them last?" she asked turning back to Nick, her rapidly shortening temper clipping her words.
Juggling with the collection of items in his hands Nick, shook his head before he finally answered, "I don't know. The Lab, maybe?"
Sara closed her eyes, letting the darkness reset her calm.
"Are you sure they aren't there somewhere?"
This was just not amusing.
He shook his head, wishing he could cross his fingers against the lie without her seeing. He didn't like lying to his friends.
He was digging himself his own hole, and he'd really no call for another one of those, but he had felt that roaring deluge of panic well up in him the moment his apartment had come into view. Had felt the wave build, ready to crest from the moment Sara's car had turned onto his street.
He had to fight it, had to take back control over his own life somehow.
"Right, come on." Sara, jerked her thumb sharply at the back seat. "Get in. We'll swing by the Lab."
They all knew that the Lab was a good twenty-minute ride back the way they just came.
In the passenger seat Grissom shifted, awkwardly.
As the only other guy he knew he should offer Nick a place to stay. That would save Sara from driving all the way back to the Lab for keys that Nick could have dropped anywhere.
And he had a couch. A small lumpy, grumpy old thing, but it was a couch, and it was available… He had slept on it often enough himself when he had been too tired to crawl the extra few foot to the comfort of his bed.
Yet he really couldn't bring himself to open his mouth and make the offer. Politeness dictated that he should, but every other part of his being, some more potently than others, begged him to keep his mouth closed.
Moments ago they had only had Catherine to drop off, which wasn't more than about five minutes from Nick's.
He had been counting the minutes until he would have been alone with Sara. Where no one could interrupt. Alone. Just the pull he felt at that word.
After all, after a shock like the one Sara had just had, she really shouldn't be alone…
He studied her as she put the car into drive again now, her own forehead creased, her lips tight, her back rigid as she hunched over the wheel.
He wanted to reach out and soothe her. She looked mad as hell.
It was better to know he didn't suffer alone, there was that word again, alone he was no longer alone, but it still pained him to see her uncomfortable.
He shifted in his seat again, giving her one last lingering look.
With an unconcealed sigh, he opened his mouth to offer the most insincere invite he had given in his entire life only to find his words lost volume to Catherine's.
"Hey, Sara, tell you what, why don't you just drop Nicky with me, Lindsay's gone for the night, he can have her bed."
Grissom's mouth closed the quickest it ever had in his life.
He'd also never loved Catherine Willows more. See, true friends were there for you even when they didn't know it. That was why he kept her around and put up with her for so long. Just for this very moment!
Nick turned to Catherine, through the streetlamps motion sick ebbs she would have sworn she could see pleading and relief in his eyes, and then it was gone again.
"If you're sure." Nick's voice was really quiet, yet inside he restrained the powerful urge to scoop Catherine up in an overbearing hug.
The weight of the key ring in his left hip pocket was burning guiltily through the fabric into his left leg, his toes curled as he forced himself to ignore the discomfort.
Yet this wasn't about lies and guilt, this was about more basic instincts that that, it was about survival.
"Yeah, it'll save Sara from doing anymore unnecessary driving. I'm sure she's had enough of that for tonight as it is."
Sense, from the one woman who would definitely not have won prizes for most sensible tonight.
Sara smiled gratefully at Catherine in the rear-view, god she owed her one here and the other woman would never truly know. Actually, that made two she owed her, she couldn't forget the quick make-up fix she'd worked wonders with either.
She didn't dare risk a glance at Grissom, already knowing she'd see her own smug and relieved emotions reflected back upon his face.
Hmmm… maybe they just weren't nice people… no, that wasn't true… but you might have been forgiven for thinking that the way karma had been teasing and taunting with them tonight. Letting them fret and worry about every little thing right until the final moment before letting them off the hook with the swiftness of demons!
But life wouldn't be life without a few challenges, right?
By the time Sara pulled the car over by Casa Willows, she had never been so relieved to see a place, or the back of certain people, as she was at that moment.
Watching the pair stagger up the slanted drive, Catherine tottering professionally in her heels, and Nick swaying a little, Sara barely waited long enough for them to open the front door before her foot was on the gas and she and Grissom couldn't be seen for a cloud if orangey Vegas dust.
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Stepping into the house, Catherine illuminated the room with a groan, dipping her head, closing her eyes against the bright light.
Nick stopped behind her. Blinking rapidly too, their eyes adjusting after the darkened streets outside.
Catherine's house still looked like a bomb had hit it. It was a very nice house, warm, light and airy, and tastefully decorated, just hidden under a careless scattering of discarded clothing.
"Housekeepers on vacation." She muttered vaguely as she meandered a path over to the breakfast bar, which still held the emptied bottle of wine she had polished off before she went out. That and what was left of Lindsay's ice cream puddle.
Looking back at Nick she saw he was hovering awkwardly by the door. Looking like a stranger in some new and foreign land. Now that she thought about it Nick probably hadn't been to this house before. Great day to showcase the new place… Maybe Nick wouldn't think to ask where she got the money for it from. Not that Sam Braun's money was helping her to control her life at all. She just had a nicer place to stress out in.
"Yeah, Lindsay and I are having some issues about her cleaning up after herself… you know." Catherine shrugged, "we are clearly not making any head way though. I told her she does it for herself because I won't anymore, so right now no one is doing it."
Nick bravely and carefully made a pathway for himself through a collection of clothing that lined the floor, clothing that looked remarkably like the things Catherine had been wearing when she had left the Lab earlier…
Reaching out he captured a rather lacy, pretty damn sexy bra, which was tossed over the arm of a chair, he held it up with the tip of one finger, holding it as carefully as he would evidence for examination. La Perla, fancy!
"Please tell me this doesn't belong to Linds?!"
Catherine snatched the offending item away with a scowl, but it was good to see the cheeky grin on her friends face again.
"So, what happened to Linds tonight?"
He heard her sigh heavily at his question and wondered if he was intruding.
It had been pretty clear when she had appeared at the bar that something had gone wrong between Catherine and her wilful daughter, it hadn't just been Warrick she was mad with, not that her feelings there hadn't been pretty clear too.
It had amused him as an outsider to watch Lindsay grow. She'd been like the Lab's baby, mainly as none of the others had gotten around to the whole children thing yet, so they had all been learning vicariously through Catherine as Lindsay had grown up and had stood back in a mixture of awe and fear watching her become more and more like her mother, something that had already set off a few warning bells.
You didn't mess with an angry Willows woman… two in one household must be a living hell sometimes!
"Just another misunderstanding, one where I ended up looking like an idiot. Same old same." Catherine finally muttered into her hair as she stood on one foot, like an exotic flamingo fiddling with the ankle strap on one of her shoes. When the buckle finally gave, she groaned in pleasure at the sensation of blood rushing back into her toes. Releasing the other foot the same way she groaned again flicking back her hair.
Nick had found his way to the fish tank, and was tapping sadly on the glass.
"You… you…er lost a few Nemo's in here."
"I'll, er, I'll b…I'll sort them tomorrow."
Oh God, that awkward creeping, cold sensation was back again, that fearful shock wave that rippled through you and made you wish with all your might you could just frantically scoop the words back up and shovel them back into your mouth.
She'd almost said 'bury' she'd almost mentioned burying something underground. No no NO!
"Always used to flush the ones we had when I was a kid." Nick edged to clear the air a little once his heart had restarted after the twinge of pain and guilt he felt rip his chest at his friends sudden and obvious discomfort around him. Maybe if he hadn't been so tired Catherine's slip and immediately horrified expression would have been mildly amusing. But right now it wasn't. "One time one wasn't even dead. Thought I was setting it free! I didn't realise what a hard time of it a goldfish would have in the sewers. I was pretty guilty there for a while!"
They both shared a soft smile. Letting their breath out in a huff. He'd done it. He'd said the word 'dead' in another's presence and the world hadn't ended. He might just be okay.
"You'll be up here," Catherine explained, nodding her head upwards as she started to climb the stairs with heavy legs, "help yourself to anything in the kitchen by the way, there's bottles of water in the fridge."
She paused at the first door she came too, "Bathroom. There might even be an extra toothbrush under the sink if you have a look."
Reaching a second doorway, she pushed on the door and Lindsay's room was revealed to him.
It was pink, and sparkly and there was more mess in here than he would have ever dared to make in his entire life. His mother would have had him tidying by the ear if he'd made this much mess, or treated his things this badly.
To be honest he was really just frightened of all the teenage girl crap, it was a latent fear residual from high school!
Uncomfortable he looked to Catherine, "Don't worry about it, if you have a blanket, I'll just crash on the couch."
God knew what he might find in that room, lipsticks, nail polishes, bears, glitter, secret letters, the odd rat…
He might wake, that was a good joke… although sleeping was nothing to joke about right now, and find himself dolled up with full make up and painted toes, pink influences having worked their way into his sleepwalking subconscious.
"I'm not sure I could spend the night with all those eyes looking down at me from all those posters!" He forced a tired grin.
Catherine merely nodded. He could do what ever he wanted as long as she got to crawl into her own bed sooner. She already knew that she didn't have the energy to waste on removing her make up, the alcohol lulling her limbs meant that as soon as she was stripped and her head touched the pillow she would be asleep. Thank goodness for alcohol. She'd be asleep in minutes and freed from this day and all the thoughts she knew were just waiting to prey on her the moment she was sober enough to deal with them.
Ogh she was going to have a headache in the morning.
She just wished Nick would go to sleep already!
Turning away from the pink room Nick headed back down the stairs, his shoulders sinking as he moved through the main room to the pretty reasonable looking couch.
"Sorry, I'm afraid it doesn't fold out." Catherine's words announced her arrival behind him.
He turned to find her arms laden with blankets and a spare pillow.
"This will do the trick," he smiled, taking them from her, placing them onto the couch. "Thanks Cath."
Something deeply sad in his look made her sigh softly and reach up and give him a gentle hug.
"Night," she whispered and heard him return it as she stepped away to the stairs again.
As she crossed the floor he began to undress, tugging his shirt out of his trousers and unhooking the buttons, with a flash of her eyes at his muscled torso and as flirtatious a
grin as she could manage at this late hour, she turned away, behind her she heard him
continue to undress, the sharp stripping sound of the zipper and then the unmistakeable clatter of keys hitting the ground as they tumbled from the pocket of his shucked trousers.
Horrified Nick froze, his eyes going wide.
Oh he was so busted.
Catherine too froze in place on the stairs.
The silence stretched.
She didn't say a word.
After a moment she merely carried on climbing.
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"What?"
His gaze had been caressing her since the moment she had pulled away from the curb outside Catherine's. Sweeping over her face, her nose, her chin, her cheekbones, the elegant curve of her throat. That one simple but intimate exploration of her had been raising the temperature in the car steadily by degrees; each place his attention landed seemed to absorb enough heat to glow.
Without taking her eyes from the road she asked louder, pretending to be exasperated, "What?!"
With a sly huff of breath that escaped his smile he began to speak, "You know you really shouldn't be alone after a shock like that."
Pressing her tongue into the inside of her cheek to try and stop her laughter she made an indistinct, "hmmmm," sound in response. "I see."
Oh God he was going to ask her, he was going to ask her! All her nerve endings felt like they were tingling!
"I'm a Doctor, I should know." He announced, and she could see him nodding his head out of the corner of her eye.
"I didn't know you were that kind of Doctor," she intoned, playing along happily.
"We should definitely keep you awake a little bit longer… what shall we do…"
Her mind was practically screaming about all the things they could certainly do, but she bit her tongue.
"How about we get a cup of coffee?" He asked. His simple words exactly mirroring the first time he had asked her out, when he had found her in the hospital by Nick's bedside.
The smile that broke across her face was wide and free and delighted.
"Okay."
Oh God was that her voice sounding all girlie! Heaven help her!
He didn't want their night to end either. That made her whole body feel like it glowed. And he was completely irresistible, and he knew it, for reminding her of the event that had finally set all of this in motion.
But shaking her head, adding sadness to her voice she had to tell him, even though he was clearly already aware, "I'm afraid our usual place is probably closed by this hour though. It's a little late."
Usual place!! They had a usual place!
A quiet fell over the car, you could hear the engine hum.
Was he going to ask her? Would she ask him?
Should she ask him? Should he ask her?
You could practically hear their brains ticking over.
Ask him, don't ask him.
Ask her, don't ask her.
She was going to worry a hole in her bottom lip if she didn't decide soon.
"I… have coffee." She stuttered out, hearing her voice and cringing.
She sounded like she was about sixteen years old again.
"Perfect."
With one smooth word he made everything all right again.
She flicked her glance at him, still shy and nervous and wary of the road.
He was beaming. Something in his eyes told her that he wasn't just pleased about the coffee either.
Her insides dipped again as she fought hard to concentrate on the road ahead. Oh God, she'd done it. She'd gotten the words out. She'd asked him and he'd said yes. YES! It was a good job it wasn't far to drive now.
The tension inside the car was building again as they both mulled over the new direction the night was taking. The shared nervousness making them quieter than ever.
Sure it was only coffee, but was it more? Did they want it to be more? Yes! But were they ready for that? Was it rushing things?
God she sounded like she belonged in some housewives romance book.
Think clearly, yeah right, that was easier said than done when Grissom was about.
She knew she wanted this, but she had been loving the steadily mounting anticipation, well apart from the embarrassment's plural, the constant blushing, damn her fair skin, and the craziness of her hormones, but she was definitely enjoying this tantalisingly slow build.
But on the other hand they had been building for quite a few years now! Surely it was time to let of a little steam before they hurt themselves?
Just the idea of him being in her place, her apartment, within reach of her bed…
The car was getting warmer by the second, it was warmer with just the two of them in it than it had been with five earlier. She desperately wanted to fan her cheeks, but under his watchful gaze she knew he would immediately pick up on her flush being a symptom of arousal, if he hadn't already picked up on her scent.
Beside her he shifted to rearrange himself in the seat, awkwardly adjusting his trousers. His body and his overactive imagination already doing a number on him. She hadn't even touched him yet. He had no guarantee that the evening would end that way. God he wanted it too, but he had no such forceful expectations. He was always a gentleman.
It would always be Sara's choice.
No matter what he wanted and if she wasn't brave enough, or ready to ask then that was that, no matter how much it drove him crazy!
She looked so nervous.
She was flexing her fingers on the wheel.
It was funny, and a little bit wrong that everything was taking on a more romantic mood. Even just being alone with Grissom in a car, driving dreamily under streetlights, which was certainly not a new experience for her, had become this encounter with a sweet edge. Had her car always been this small and cozy?
Oh, she'd laugh at herself later. Hopefully whilst lying nude and entangled with him.
Oh God! Pay attention to the road! Focus, focus. Daydreams like that whilst driving will get you killed!
When his fingertip made brief contact with her cheek she gasped in surprise. Her awareness of him so heightened. Her mouth falling open. She hadn't expected the extra flood of heat his gently rough touch would bring. It was only the lightest contact of the back of his index finger to the curve of her cheek and she was already goo.
"Sara, relax."
His words were a sleepy rumble that swirled the honey inside.
She laughed a little smiling, relieved that her nervousness wasn't a secret, that he most likely felt it too.
It was out there; their relationship was on the brink of seriously changing. One word and her name on the heat of his breath and it had been acknowledged.
Letting out a calming breath, she managed to refill her lungs with another shudder.
Oh boy, relaxing, that was going to be a lot easier said than done!