XXV - BRUCE LEE

Sara had been in the shower when Warrick and Greg had arrived, and Nick had been forced to answer the door in his boxers, much to Warrick's amusement and Greg's chagrin.

Following Nick genially into the kitchen they chatted and watched with appreciation as he quickly got some coffee perking. Greg had asked Nick if he could go and put some music on, but Sara, walking into the kitchen with a towel over her wet head, had vetoed that idea.

"Touch my stereo and die, Greggo!" She had teased, walking over to him and dropping her wet towel in his lap. "Showers free, Nick."

Nick smiled at her, leaning over and whispering in her ear, "Still gonna wash my back for me?" Sara ignored him and walked over to the cupboard, pulling out mugs before turning to see Warrick grinning at her. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just such a becoming shade of pink right now. I know you normally wear black, but you might want to consider changing your style palette." Sara snorted at him.

"Keep it up, and I'll be the one making breakfast!" she threatened. Handing the mugs to Warrick and Greg, she looked at the plastic Wal-Mart bag at Greg's feet and smiled. "Nick, don't you think you should change before Catherine gets here?"

Warrick grabbed the bag at his feet, and tossed it at him. "Hope these fit!"

"We heard about your clothes. Sara sent us on a mission of mercy." Greg added, smiling as Nick reached into the bag and pulled out a casual button shirt. It was black, with red flames shooting up around the hem, and had a great big picture of Bruce Lee on the front. Sara laughed when she saw it, and Nick grimaced.

"This is the ugliest shirt I've ever seen! You chose it, didn't you Greg?" Nick's teasing tone took the insult out of his words, and he smiled at the young lab tech.

"C'mon man. It's cool - we need to brighten up your wardrobe a bit. Besides, who wouldn't want to wear Bruce Lee?" Greg was grinning, maniacally. His hair stuck out in several directions, making him look like he'd just slid out of bed. "Warrick was with me when we picked it up."

Nick cocked a dubious eyebrow at Warrick. "Couldn't you have reined him in a little bit?"

Warrick laughed. "Could have - didn't want to." He watched as Nick reached into the bag again, and brought out a pair of Diesel jeans, quickly followed by Birkenstock sandals. He laughed again when Nick shot Greg an amused look. "Birkenstock's?"

Greg shrugged amiably. "What? They're comfortable."

Nick shook his head. "I'm going to have my shower now. I appreciate the thought behind the clothes-" he grinned ruefully, "-if not the actual clothes themselves."

* * * * *

Nicky could hear Brass before he even stepped into the kitchen. "So, Sheriff Davis pulled all the info. he could on the Watson family. Seems that Emily and Earl's dad was a tattoo artist - and a successful one at that - he had several shops. He was murdered back in '82 in the main store, but the crime was never solved. Earl's mother supposedly abandoned the family when Earl was 12, but Davis is going to run the dentals on a couple of the unknown skeletons they've found, see if one of them is her. They're also going to run a full search of the lands - they've got a lot of cold cases to choose from. He's hoping they might be able to close some of them based on what they find."

"What did I miss?" he asked, as he stepped into the kitchen. His eyes immediately sought out Sara, who was sitting next to Greg. She looked up as he walked into the kitchen, and grinned when she saw him in his new clothes.

Brass looked over at Nick. "Don't tell me - you borrowed some of Greg's clothes, right?"

Greg pretended to be offended. "Why does everyone question my sartorial choices. And for your information, those are not mine -they're Nick's."

"Yeah. But you and Warrick bought it for me." Everyone laughed. Catherine walked up to him, giving him a hug.

"How are you feeling, Nick?"

"Not bad, all things considered." He looked around the kitchen. "Where's Grissom?"

"He'll be here. He had an errand to run." Catherine turned to smile at Sara. "Mind if I go put on some music?"

"Go ahead!" She replied. Greg looked up, grumbling.

"Hey - how come you'll let Catherine touch your stereo, but not me?"

"Because Greg, unlike you, what I actually listen too is music." Catherine teased.

* * * * *

Grissom could smell breakfast through the door of Sara's apartment. His stomach grumbled, and he smiled. Whatever Nick was cooking, it smelled fantastic. He could hear the mumbled sounds of conversation and laughter coming from Sara's apartment, and smiled. He realized he was looking forward to joining them.

Nick answered the door. Grissom almost didn't recognize him, and he started laughing. "Bruce Lee? Nice shirt Nick."

"Yeah, yeah." Nick grumbled good naturedly, indicating for Grissom to come in. "The boys' idea of a joke." Grissom laughed.

"Here, I brought you something." He handed Nick one of the bags he had been holding.

"The last time I looked in a bag, I got this." Nick wryly pointed at his shirt. "I think I'm scared." He opened up the bag carefully, and took out a Dixie Chicks CD.

"Music?"

"Yeah - there's a song on that disc called 'Goodbye Earl' - thought it was appropriate." Grissom and Nick shared a grin. "Sort of morbid, but there you have it." Grissom looked at Nick intently for a second. "So, how are you doing?"

"Good. I'm alright. If I actually felt sorry for Earl, I'd probably feel worse. It wasn't pleasant coming home last night covered in blood and brains. Sara thinks I should talk to the office shrink, just make sure there're no after effects."

"That's a good idea. It might not have really sunk in yet." Grissom paused, hesitantly. "And how are things with you and Sara?"

Nick shifted uncomfortably. "Well - uh - good. Listen Grissom, I hope -"

"Not a problem, Nick. I can deal with it. I'm glad you're happy." Grissom put a hand on Nick's shoulder, squeezing it. "You're a good man, Nick Stokes. You're a fine CSI, and a good friend. I wouldn't want to see her with anyone else."

Nick smiled at Grissom. "Thanks Grissom. I'm a little shocked, but thanks. What brought that on?"

"The death of Miss Piggy." Grissom replied cryptically.