Chapter 48
Nick walked down the hall. Ever since the explosion at the cabin, things had gone back to normal at the lab. Well, as normal as it could be in Las Vegas. The crime wave was over. Each shift had finally gone back to the usual hours. There was still tons of paperwork to do. Piles upon piles of it. But it was calming down.
Walking into his office, Nick placed the last round of reports on the desk before settling himself on his chair. He had only been supervisor for week and already he was downing with paperwork. Nick had never before appreciated his previous boss' as much as he did at that moment. He had lost count of the number of times he walked past the door, seeing Grissom, or Catherine, or Russell pouring over files. Talking on the phone. Typing up reports. Meeting with Ecklie, or some other head of department.
Now that was him. And, weird as it may seem, he was actually looking forward to that part of the job. It may be tedious at times, but now he had a chance to make a change.
A knock sounded at the door and Nick looked up to see Grissom standing under the frame. The entomologist was leaning against the door panel, a package of some sort in his arms.
"You know, every time I think I start to miss the job, I remember the paperwork," Grissom said. Nick laughed, throwing down his pen and leaning back in his chair.
"It would have been nice to have a heads up of some sort. You, Cath, and Russell decide to put me through some supervisor hazing?"
"It's a tradition," Grissom replied with a smile, taking the seat opposite, and placing the parcel on the desk. Nick shook his head when Grissom didn't even bother trying to clear a space. "So, how's it going?"
"Well, it's been seven days, six of them have been spent in meetings with Ecklie, and the other has been buried in paperwork."
"The price of power," Grissom replied with a grin. "Anyway, I brought you a present." He pushed the box towards him.
Nick let out a bark when he opened the lid. Face crinkling with amusement. He lifted out a glass case. Inside, surrounded by branches, bark, leaves, and an ample selection of moss, was a large tarantula.
"Brachypelma hamorii. More commonly known as the Mexican Red Knee tarantula." Grissom bent his head to look inside, smiling at the large arachnid. "Every entomologist should have one."
"That's great. Thanks, Griss." Nick opened the side of the terrarium and held his hand out. The red and black spider slowly crawled its way onto his palm, and Nick lifted it out. The gentle touch ticking his skin as she climbed over his hands. "Does she have a name?"
"I wouldn't dream of naming you spider," Grissom replied, a look of mock indignation on his face. "Though Sara did suggest 'Fluffy'." Nick laughed.
"Of course, she did! Well, no disrespect to you wife, but I don't think she looks like a Fluffy to me."
"No, me either," Grissom replied. He leant forward and watched the spider walk over Nick's hands. "I'm proud of you, Nicky." Nick looked up. The two men shared an easy smile. It had been nice, having Grissom around for the last few weeks. Nick had forgotten just how much he missed working with his old mentor. Even if their positions had changed slightly. Once the Thompson case had been wrapped up, the entomologist stayed on to help out. Working as a consultant.
Not going out in the field, but processing evidence at the lab. Doing reconstructions. Analysing any insect's that came his way.
He had told everyone he had missed the work, the challenge. But nobody was fooled. They all knew, Grissom only did it to be with Sara. Not that anyone would begrudge them. Even Ecklie seemed more than happy to allow the married couple to work together. Nick suspected it was the Sheriffs way of changing Sara's mind. Hoping, if he could convince her she would be allowed to work with her husband, Sara might decide to stay.
It wasn't working. Mr and Mrs Grissom had made their decision, and Sara was leaving next week. Nick would miss her, but there was no denying the joy that lighted her face each time she was with her husband. Or whenever anyone would ask about their next adventure.
"Thanks, Griss," Nick said. He put the spider back in her cage and locked the lid. "How's Vartann?"
"Good," Grissom said. "Catherine's taken some time off, before her new job starts. He's staying at hers for the moment."
"That's good. I heard he'll be clear for desk duty soon."
"Yeah, though I think Cath is trying to convince him to take a few more weeks."
"Hey, boss," a voice called, interrupting their conversation. Hodges was stood in the doorway, kit in hand. "We've got a call. 405 at the Jumbo Slash."
One of the first things Nick had done, as supervisor, was promote Hodges to CSI Level One. He had offered the position to Henry as well, but the DNA/Tox tech was more than happy to stay in the lab.
"Great, thanks Hodges. I'll grab my kit and meet you by the car." Hodges nodded and, with an enthusiasm that surprised everyone, left.
"I never thought I'd see the day, when David Hodges would willingly go out into the field," Grissom said, shaking his head.
"Me either," Nick admitted. It had come as a surprised, when Hodges asked to be put out in the field, permanently. But Nick couldn't deny, for all his abrasiveness, Hodges had a good eye. And if he kept it up, would make a great CSI. He just hoped the former trace tech would lay off the ass kissing.
Nick wasn't sure he would be quiet as tolerant of that as Grissom or Russell.
"You get used to it," Grissom said. Grinning, not needing Nick to speak to know where his thoughts had gone. "Or, at least, learn to ignore it."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said as he stood, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders. Throwing the older man a smirk. "Could you let Sara know I'll meet her at the restaurant? Hopefully this won't take too long."
"I'll let her know."
Nick nodded and, picking up his kit, he left. Thankfully, the scene was fairly straightforward, and Nick had no qualms allowing Hodges to run with the evidence back at the lab. The new field mouse more than happy to 'take point'. Nick and Morgan shared a grin when he said that, and Nick left his subordinate under the watchful eye of the now CSI three.
Nick made it to the restaurant, only a few minutes late. Looking through the window, he could see Greg and Sara sat at a table, drinks already poured out in front of them. They were laughing, and Nick was hit with a pang of nostalgia as he thought; this would be the last time the three of them would be together, just them, for a long time.
Sara was leaving. Greg and Morgan were becoming more and more inseparable. And Nick was now the boss. While the changes were good, Nick couldn't help but feel a sense of loss as he watched his two closest friends.
Sara looked up, her face radiant as she smiled at him. Waving a hand and beckoning him in. Nick pushed his way through the restaurant. Weaving around the tables.
His mind drifted back to how things were before. The man he was then, compared to the man he was now. He looked at the two people who had been with him through it all, and thought of the friend who would have wanted to be. It had been six years since Warrick had died. Six years, and not a day went past when Nick did not miss him. He missed his friendship. His humour. His support and his loyalty.
Nick thought back to all the times the team had spent together. Grissom and Catherine. Nick and Warrick. Greg and Sara. The cases they worked, the breakfasts they shared. It was Grissom's team, back then. Grissom's people. The original gang. Now it was different. The old players had gone, and new ones had taken their place. Now it was his people. His team.
Things had changed. And things would keep changing. As Heraclitus said, change is the only constant in life.
With that in mind, Nick sat at the table, accepting the drink Sara handed to him. Determined to enjoy each moment with his two favourite people while he could.
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Lights streamed through the window, casting shadows over the furniture. The sounds from the Strip below floated up to her, dampened a little by the thick glass. Colours danced around her, reflecting off the glass table next to the sofa.
Sara crept her way across the room. She and Grissom had moved out of Catherine's when Vartann was discharged. Wanting to give the couple some space, especially with Vartann's injuries. While Lou may be one of the more easy-going detectives Sara had worked with, the man still had his pride. No one liked an audience while they were recovering. Sara and Grissom had booked a room at the Mediterranean, Catherine scoring them an impressive discount thanks to her casino connections.
As quietly as she could, not wanting to wake her husband, Sara closed the curtains and placed her bag on the table.
"Good evening, dear?" Grissom called from the bedroom. Sara spun around, her hand going to her heart, as she gave him a disapproving look. He quirked his lips, eyes lighting with amusement.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" She asked, pursing her lips together. Grissom only grinned, completely unrepented for startling his wife. "I thought you were asleep," she continued as she walked over to him.
Grissom put a hand to her waist and pulled her against him. His lips found hers in a gentle kiss. "How was your evening?"
"Good," she replied, pulling away. The couple made their way into the bedroom. Grissom sat on the bed as Sara walked to the bathroom. It was a large room. Standing bath and waterfall shower. Grissom had already hung up her robe and pyjamas, so Sara stripped off her clothing and changed.
"Did you get a chance to speak to Greg?" Grissom called from the other room.
"Yes, he spoke to Morgan. They're both interested," she replied, securing the belt to her robe in place. "Apparently Morgan is happy to have it as is."
"Really?" Grissom replied, she could hear the surprise in his voice.
"Yeah," Sara continued. "She wants to make it their own. Put their own mark on it."
"How do you feel about that?"
"It'll be their home, Gil. I think it'll be good for them." She walked out of the bathroom and found Grissom sitting up in bed. Glasses perched on the end of his nose and a book open on his lap. He looked up at she entered, eyes flicking down her body as she perched on the end of the mattress.
She ginned at him when their eyes met. Grissom put his book on the bedside table and held out his hand to her. Sara crawled into her husband's arms, settling under the blankets, and resting against his chest. Grissom's finger ran up and down her back.
"Are you sure about this?" He asked her. "We don't need to sell."
"Gill," Sara sighed. They had already talked about this, debated the pros and cons of keeping a home in Vegas. "It'll just be sat empty. Greg and Morgan have been looking for somewhere for months. They need it, we don't." He kissed her temple, pulling her tighter against him.
"Ok, then."
The next day, Grissom, Sara, Greg, and Morgan sat together to discuss the sale of the town house. Morgan had plenty of ideas of how she wanted to redecorate, and Sara smiled as she watched her two friends discussing the next chapter of their story.