Chapter 14
Greg had just begun drawing the shooting star on Nick's cheek when there was a knock on the door.
Giving Nick a quick kiss on the lips, he said a breathy, "Be right back," and went to answer the door. Looking out the peep hole, Greg caught sight of Officer Mitchell. He had seen the African American officer at the lab several times, and knew the officer worked closely with Captain Brass and the CSIs.
Opening the door, Greg said, "Officer Mitchell, please, come in."
"Greg," the officer replied, turning briefly to give his partner – who was sitting in their squad car out front – a thumbs up.
Closing the door behind Officer Mitchell, Greg motioned to the livingroom. "Make yourself comfortable, Nick and I are almost ready to go. Just give me a few more minutes."
Greg went back into the kitchen, where he'd left Nick sitting on a kitchen chair. Picking up a gel pen, Greg continued to decorate Nick's cheek.
When he finished, Greg laid a hand over Nick's ink free cheek, his thumb rubbing over Nick's lips. A low keening sound of need escaped Greg's lips before he could control himself. Finally, taking a shaky breath, he murmured, "Forever mine! My soul!"
Nick put his hand over Greg's, twining their fingers together. Turning his face slightly, Nick ghosted his lips across Greg's wrist, eliciting the keening sound from Greg again. Nick's eyes closed, as he listened to the sound Greg made, and Greg could only imagine what Nick was thinking.
With a soft sigh, Greg managed to pull himself together with a muttered, "It's going to be a very long shift." Pulling Nick to his feet, Greg said, "Come on, we'd better go."
Back in the livingroom, Greg made sure Nick picked up his laptop and iPod, before saying, "Okay, Officer Mitchell, we're ready to go."
The officer walked them out to Greg's car. "Drive straight to the crime lab. We'll follow you. If we get separated for any reason, just keep driving to the lab, don't stop," he instructed, then made sure Greg had started the car and locked the doors before walking to the patrol car.
At the lab, Officer Mitchell escorted them from the car to the parking garage elevator.
Greg headed to Grissom's office first, but the graveyard shift supervisor wasn't there yet, so he took Nick to the break room.
The room was deserted, when they walked in.
Greg was in the process of setting up the coffee machine to brew a pot of Blue Hawaiian, when Warrick Brown walked in.
"You're not supposed to be in here," Warrick's voice boomed through the room, his eyes locked on Nick. Nick had been sitting at the table, idly fiddling with his laptop, not sure if he should turn it on yet, or wait, as he knew this wouldn't be where he would be staying for Greg's shift.
Nick scrambled to his feet, eyes downcast, stammering, "I'm sorry. My master..."
Greg stopped him with a hand on his arm. Eyeing the African American CSI, Greg said, "Is right here. He's allowed to be here, Warrick."
"Sorry, Sanders. Didn't see you there," Warrick relaxed visibly, now just eyeing Nick curiously. "Didn't know you owned."
"I've only had him a few days," Greg told the green eyed man. Rubbing Nick's arm reassuringly, Greg murmured, "It's okay, Nicky. You can sit back down."
Warrick's gaze wandered to Greg's hand on Nick's arm, before meeting Greg's gaze again.
The challenge in Greg's eyes was unmistakable to the experienced CSI. Tossing a thumb over his shoulder, he said, "You know, I think Mandy may have something for me on some prints I pulled at a scene last night."
After watching Warrick disappear around the corner down the hall, Greg let out a sigh, feeling himself deflate. He wasn't at all certain he could have taken Warrick, if the older man had decided to make a scene. He liked to think he might have stood a chance, though. After all, he was only an inch shorter than Warrick, and the older man really wasn't that much broader than Greg.
"You probably shouldn't touch me like that in public, Master," Nick's voice was low, an uncertain edge in it. Greg had expected fear, but there was none, just an unmistakable protectiveness in Nick's voice.
Kneeling down to Nick's eye level, since Nick had resumed his seat, Greg traced Nick's jaw line with his fingers.
"I'll touch you whenever, wherever, I want. I really don't give a shit what anyone else thinks!" To prove his point, Greg straightened, took Nick's hand in his and towed the other man out of the break room behind him. "Grissom should be in his office by now."
Grissom set aside the requisition form he'd been eyeing, when he saw Greg standing in his doorway. His slave, Nick, stood behind him, one hand clutched tightly in one of Greg's.
Raising an eyebrow at his confirmed suspicion from earlier, Grissom called out, "Come in and close the door behind you, Greg."
Doing as his boss had instructed, Greg closed the door, then moved to stand in front of Grissom's desk, Nick still behind him.
"Grissom." Greg's eyes, while still clear and bright, held known of the usual twinkle of mischievousness they usually held.
"Greg," Grissom nodded at the two visitor's chairs, "Have a seat." Grissom eyed Nick curiously, as he might study an interesting bug specimen.
"Grissom, this is Nick. Nicky, this is my boss, Gil Grissom," Greg formally introduced the two, pulling Nick around so he was standing beside Greg.
"Nick," Grissom acknowledged.
"Sir," was Nick's polite response. His eyes were locked on the top of Grissom's desk.
"You can call me Grissom, Nick."
"Thank you, s- Mr. Grissom," Nick responded.
Grissom didn't correct Nick about using the honorific mister. He could see Nick was already nervous enough, and didn't want to make him more so. Looking over at Greg, Grissom saw worry filling the DNA tech's caramel eyes.
"I'm going to have the two of you put in protective custody," Grissom began.
Greg sat forward on his chair anxiously, but didn't say anything. He knew Grissom well enough to know the supervisor would explain more quickly if he didn't fire off a dozen questions at him.
"I received a threatening phone call early this morning. The caller threatened the three of us with dire consequences if I didn't stop looking into Nick's father."
"But that must mean," Greg began, at the same time Nick said, "You must stop. Don't put your lives in danger because of me!" Nick's eyes had locked on Greg's face, and Grissom could see terror in the man's features. Terror not for himself, but for Greg.
Grissom shot a look of compassion Nick's way before turning back to Greg. "I'm not going to give up on this. That call tells me that something isn't right about what happened to Nick's father. I also do not leave puzzles unsolved. You should both be safe here through your shift, Greg. After shift, you'll be escorted home to pack, then you'll be taken to a hotel where you'll have officers outside your door twenty-four seven."
Nick shot a panicked look at Greg, "Master, please!"
Grissom watched as Greg took Nick's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You can trust Grissom, Nicky. He'll keep us safe."
When Nick shyly met Grissom's gaze, Grissom smiled and gave him a small nod of assurance.
Looking over at Greg again, Grissom said, "If you don't mind, Greg, I'd like to talk to Nick, take a statement about what happened the night he was taken."
Glancing over at Nick, Greg replied, "It's fine with me, as long as Nick's okay with it."
Grissom noted Nick's knuckles turn white as the young man squeezed his master's hand tightly, but Nick gave a small nod of acceptance.
Standing, Greg looked across Grissom's desk into his analytical blue eyes. "I don't want him left alone, boss. Warrick nearly had a fit in the break room because he thought Nick was there alone."
"Don't worry, Greg. As soon as we're done, I'll bring him to your lab."
Leaning down in front of Nick, so they were at eye level, Greg said, "Tell Grissom whatever he wants to know. I'll see you later." Brushing his lips across Nick's forehead, Greg gently pulled his hand free of Nick's grip and left the office.
Nick had twisted around in his chair to watch Greg leave, and had only turned back around when Greg disappeared from sight. He sat nervously, eyes on the floor between his feet.
"Look at me, please, Nick," Grissom's quiet voice broke the silence a moment later.
Nick complied instantly, unwilling to test the man in front of him.
Grissom smiled reassuringly. "Thank you, Nick. I like to make eye contact with whomever I speak with. Now, I know it's been a long time, but I need you to tell me everything you remember from the night you were taken." Shuffling a few papers around, Grissom found a legal pad and pulled it in front of him. He also pulled a digital voice recorder from his desk and set it to record their conversation.
"I'll never forget that night, as long as I live," Nick spoke softly, but Grissom could sense a rage behind the words that could be the only reason Nick hadn't been broken throughout his years as a slave. "They pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night. I tried to fight back, but the two officers were bigger than me." He laughed ironically, "Two men, bigger than the star quarterback of his highschool football team!" The laugh faded, and he continued, "My mom was screaming. My dad was yelling that there was no warrant. Things were breaking downstairs."
Grissom was jotting down notes, eyes darting between his notepad and Nick's face. Nick's eyes had taken on a far away look, as he thought back to another lifetime.
"Someone said I would be adequate for partial restitution payment. Someone else came in and said they'd found my dad's safe. The first guy handed the other one an envelope and said to make sure the contents were included with the contents of my dad's safe."
A tear wound its way down Nick's cheek, but he didn't move to wipe it away. "My dad cussed at them. He never cusses! Then my mom screamed again, and there was this awful pain in the back of my neck, and I was falling. Everything just went black, after that. When I came to, I was at a slave master's training facility."
Grissom asked a few clarification questions, then said, "Thank you, Nick."
Setting his pen aside, Grissom leaned forward with his elbows resting on his desk. His intense gaze locked on Nick, and he could tell the younger man was fighting the urge to squirm under his look.
"In all likely hood, you'll be freed, after this is over with."
Nick's eyes widened, and he gripped the arms of the chair he sat in.
"You should talk to Greg about what you'd like to do, when that happens. Before you were taken, had you thought about what you wanted to do as an adult?" Grissom watched as emotions flitted across Nick's face almost like storm clouds across the sky.
"I had planned to go to Texas A&M. I wanted to major in Criminology. I was even going to join the police force." Nick's voice was so low, Grissom had to strain to hear it. He could imagine the younger man didn't want to voice his dreams, only to have them shattered.
"You'll need to finish highschool, first. Talk to Greg. I have the feeling he'd be overjoyed if you decided to stay with him. He'd probably help you get your highschool diploma. Then come back and talk to me. I think I can help you get a scholarship to UNLV. If your grades are good after your first semester, I think I can get you an internship here."
"You'd do that for me?" the incredulity in Nick's voice spoke of a distrust no human being should have against another.
"Somehow, I have the feeling that if I didn't, my top DNA technician would just follow you. I really don't want to lose Greg." Grissom spoke simple words of truth that he figured Nick would be more likely to believe. "In the short time he's had you, he's become very attached to you. I just don't want to see him hurt." He paused for a moment, letting his words settle into Nick's brain. "Come on. I'll take you to Greg in the DNA lab, now."
After dropping Nick off with Greg, Grissom headed to the A/V lab.
He'd had an idea for a way to discover what the detective had whispered to Bill Stokes, and he was eager to try it out.
After settling in front of the computer, Grissom replayed the recording of the interrogation. As he had absentmindedly observed previously, there was a window behind the judge. It had no blinds on it, and the way the light shown on it created a nearly perfect reflection of the room.
Cuing up the time stamp he wanted, he zoomed in on the reflection of the detective's face.
Then he let the video play out.
"If you don't take the fall and confess the crimes as yours, we'll take not only your youngest son, but your youngest two daughters, too. Nick will have a hard life as a manual labor slave, but your daughters would have even harder lives as pleasure slaves," Grissom read from the man's lips.
The rest of his shift, Grissom spent trying to track down a name for the detective on the video. Grissom was pretty sure the detective would have a ready excuse for not identifying himself at the start of the interrogation – probably something about the heat of the moment – but he was pretty sure it had been intentionally done.
A/N: Okay, next chapter will be another one for those under 17 to skip!