This is more like it. This is the way things should be…and haven't been in so freaking long.
Warrick gazed around the table at the group that had gathered to celebrate Nick's imminent return to the lab. It had been a long eight weeks. It was now high summer in Vegas and things at the lab had unfortunately picked up quite a bit. Heat and crowds and tourists and anger brought about by the first three things all led to one inevitable thing. An upswing in accidental deaths, assaults and murders. The group was laying out the details to the last case they'd worked, involving two meth heads who had shot each other over their last Eskimo Pie.
"You sure it wasn't a Klondike Bar?" Nick asked, laughing. "You know…what would you do-oo-oo for a Klondike Bar?" he sang in that great off-key voice he had. That cracked the group up to no end and Sara was practically in tears, literally holding her sides. Even Grissom twitched a small smirk onto his face.
"Oh, Nick. Keep your night job, would ya?" Greg snarked.
"To my night job!" Nick raised his iced tea in a toast and everyone joined in with his or her beverage of choice.
When they had first gathered it was with some trepidation on Warrick's part. There was still an odd vibe around whenever the two got together. Everything looked on the surface like normal. They'd taken the bikes out several more times without incident and as Nick's scars faded, so had his unwillingness to go out in public, so they'd gone out for drinks a couple of times, and tried out this new Pakistani restaurant together. They'd enjoyed their meal so much that Nick had chosen it for his celebration
Warrick reflected back on their first visit here. They'd chatted over baskets of paneer naan and fiery hot tandoori wings, washed down with pitchers of ice-cold mango tea. After a while, he'd tried to steer their conversation to more serious things, but he could tell from the cool reception he was receiving that it wasn't going to go too far, so he'd let it go. He knew Nick was seeing a shrink, despite his initial protests, after it was explained to him quite clearly that it was mandatory if he ever wanted to come back to work. He hoped Nick was talking to the doc, because he sure as hell wasn't talking to him.
His reflection was interrupted by Catherine touching his knee, asking to be let out of her seat. She made her apologies to the group stating that she'd made a promise to Lindsey that they'd run out to buy the most recent Harry Potter book and she had to run so Linds could read at least two chapters before bed.
Leaning over, she said, "Excuse the curry breath!" and gave Nick a big smooch and a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"
He gave her a quick squeeze and said, "You bet." Then he hugged her a bit tighter and whispered, "Thanks, Cath. For everything," in her ear. She punched him on the shoulder and ran off with a full blush spreading on her face. Warrick was pretty sure he was the only one else who heard it.
The evening wound down pleasantly, and the server brought by the check. Everyone scrambled for their wallets and Brass said he'd catch Cath's portion. Warrick grabbed the check with a smile, and announced that dinner was on him tonight. The pronouncement was greeted with small cheers from Greg and Sara and Grissom put his wallet away with a raised eyebrow. Warrick caught a look from Nick. "Hey, I inherited some money from an old aunt. Let me spread the wealth, huh? This is going to be a one time event- right?" he said with a pointed look at Nick. Nick gave a small smile back in response and put his wallet away in his jeans back pocket.
The check settled with a very generous tip, the gang filtered out to the exit. Sara gave her own quick hug and a kiss, bringing with it a whiff of fennel and coriander. "See you 'round?" she asked. The night shift swing shift changeover was still unsettled and no one knew when or how they'd get the logistics straightened out. But Grissom had started the ball rolling and promises had been made. For now, they'd each be returning to their separate shifts.
Grissom and Nick exchanged a quick handshake, not quite meeting each other's eyes, Warrick noticed.
I see there are still some things to be sorted out there, too.
Now, it was just the two of them and they loitered outside the building in the sweltering heat that lingered all night, only to intensify the next morning.
Nick fixed him with a look. "So, give it up, Bro. I know your Grams is an only child. So who's the 'aunt'? Was it more like Uncle Bookie that got you all this dough you're laying out?"
Warrick smiled. "I put some money down on the Rangers game. Just for you, Man. I mean, I was backing the Rangers! They haven't won half their games yet this season! They beat the spread, though. Blalock and Gonzalez have been hot. And it was Tampa Bay. But still--"
Nick broke into his spiel. "Who are you bullshitting? I'm the only one here, Rick. What about the dirt bikes?"
It was Warrick's turn to be uncomfortable under his friend's pointed stare and look of concern.
Yeah, well, two can play at this game…
"I told you. I got them for like, next to nothing. I threw some money on your team. That's it. End of story. Thought it might be a nice gesture to pick up your dinner. I know money's been tight since you've been off. But you can pay me if you like for your portion. You'll be back on full pay now, right?" His voice had turned cool at the end, and he tried to regain their former friendly banter. He stuck his hand in his pocket and played with the change he found there, his nimble fingers seeking out and grabbing the silver dollar coin, finding odd reassurance in its presence. "C'mon, Nick. I'm sorry. Look - I had a little luck and wanted to share it with my best friend. Don't make it out to be more than it is."
Nick gave a small chuckle and muttered something under his breath that Warrick didn't quite catch, but sounded like, "a little luck?"
He was about to ask his friend what he'd said but something held him back. He didn't want to ruin his buddy's big evening. Besides, Nick was already smiling and shaking his head.
Grabbing on to the renewed good vibe, he commented on how well Nick seemed to be doing.
Nick looked at him askance, obviously debating telling him something. "When I told you I wasn't having nightmares…well that was me bullshitting you." He gave a small laugh. "Thought I'd figured out how to deal with them but found myself on a path I wasn't willing to take. I bit the bullet and talked to my doc about upping my sleeping pill dosage. You, know, he's pretty cool for a department shrink. Guess he's used to dealing with stubborn cops all day." Another small laugh. "Told him the prescription he wrote wasn't hacking it. Turns out he'd started me on the minimum dosage. He told me I could take more, and if it stops working or I develop a tolerance…well, let's just say I'll cross that bridge when and if I get to it. It's amazing how your whole outlook improves with a full eight hours at night."
Warrick found a huge grin spreading across his face. "Jeez, that's fantastic. Wow. That's great, Man. I mean it. It's so good to see my old bud back."
Nick looked like he was debating sharing more with him, but the moment passed, and Nick told him he had to get going. "I've got like, this whole bedtime routine thing, and going back to work is gonna screw the whole thing up royally," he said with a rueful chuckle.
Warrick impulsively leaned over and gave him a quick one-armed hug, giving Nick the manly two pounds on the back then a hasty separation. "I'll catch you tomorrow night, right?"
"You bet. Looking forward to it. G'night."
They split and headed for their vehicles. Warrick watched as Nick headed for his Tahoe, then noticed his friend slowing as he approached his truck. His friend's behavior struck him as odd, and he started walking over to where Nick had stopped five feet from his truck. As he neared, he saw the reason why. Nick's truck had been hit, the rear bumper hanging, the taillight smashed. He waited for an explosion of anger, and was dismayed to see his friend silently nodding his head. By the time he reached the truck Nick was already squatting on the ground, picking up the pieces of his broken taillight. Warrick took a quick survey of the vehicles left in the parking lot. Nick's was the only one with apparent damage.
"Are you shitting me? Oh, Man, Nick." He found himself unable to form any words of comfort for his buddy. "Nick? What are you doing, Man?"
Never ceasing in his search, Nick replied, "No reason for someone to get a flat tire from this."
Leave it to Nick …he thought, shaking his head with a sigh.
He bent to help Nick pick up the remainder of the sharp plastic pieces, aware there would be no picking up the pieces of their ruined evening.