Note: This chapter was a little different for me. I tend to carry my stories with heavy dialogue, this chapter...not so much. I tried a little to work with Nick and the emotions he may still be dealing with post "grave danger" and even "gum drops" for that matter. I hope I did justice to it. You'll also notice...my Warrick tends to be the "single / non-married" Warrick I love so much...a little off the current CSI timeline in that regards...afterall this is fan FICTION...
Thanks for the reviews...the story is starting to take a more solid shape in my mind...this is the result of that thus far. We'll see what chapter comes to my head for tomorrow...keep the reviews coming!
Friday 3:30 p.m.
Getting up was definitely harder than Nick had expected. He took his time, no real need to hurry, it's not like he had to rush to the lab for anything. He really liked that about today.
Slowly making his way out of bed, Nick pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt; today it was Texas Tech, his alma mater. He made his way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There wasn't much. He decided on a granola bar and a diet coke.
It was quiet. Not many people could be deafened by silence. It was something Nick had acquired within the past few months. He never really learned how to re-embrace the qualities of silence. He was sure there were still some, but for some reason, today the silence was making him want to jump out of his skin. He had to get out.
Exercise usually served as a good retreat. There was some comfort in the rhythm of running five miles. What day was it? Friday, he remembered walking into his room to grab his running shoes. He still had a few days left in the introductory offer to current gym of choice. Nothing like getting a free workout, he thought quickly packing his gym bag.
Now, where had he left his keys?
Traffic was heavy heading into town. The gym was on theother side oftown. He had already used the introductory offers at every gym between his house and the lab. He was running out of options, soon he'd have to apply for a membership, or resort to running outside. When had he become so lazy about working out?
It took forty five minutes to drive through town. Pulling into a parking spot, Nick climbed out of his truck and headed to the locker room after signing in as a guest.
Vegas was a pretty small town, considering. It still surprised Nick to realize he really didn't know anyone outside the lab. It was something he found hard to get used to when he first moved to the desert town. After growing up in a small town just outside Houston and knowing everyone, it was an adjustment to walk down the street and see different faces all the time. People weren't as friendly, maybe not as trusting, in Vegas as they were in Texas.
Running had yet to fail the CSI. Running was still reliable. It served as a good escape for him. Was he running from something or toward something; he still hadn't figured that one out yet. For now, the country music mix on his iPOD was enough for him.
A hot shower always seemed to best serve relaxation to his tense muscles. This time was no exception. Finishing up in the locker room, tying his shoes and stuffing his towels in his gym bag, Nick headed to his truck. He loved the way working out made him feel relaxed, alive, comfortable even.
He glanced at his watch, it was five o'clock. As if on cue, his stomach served a reminder that he hadn't eaten anything of substance since early that morning. He needed to get some food. He hadn't cooked in a long time.
Putting the key in the ignition, he pulled out of the parking lot. The sun was beginning to set. Day light savings time had long been gone. It was getting dark earlier each day. Something else he couldn't get used to. He still had to keep a light on in his house, usually down the hall, when he slept; he didn't like the dark. Night time in the desert, despite the lights of the strip, was always black to him. Especially since…
Before making a stop at the market, he pulled into a video rental store. Movies were another good escape. He needed a comedy tonight, something light.
It took him less than twenty minutes to pick a title and get back to his vehicle. This time of day, the video store was just starting to get busy. Friday nights in Vegas were still movie nights for some families, he smiled a little.
Now to the market, he needed chicken, pasta, and alfredo sauce. He wasn't sure what put him in the mood for Italian, but chicken alfredo seemed to ignite a spark with his stomach. He hadn't been to the grocery in at least three weeks. He never had time. If he wasn't working, he was catching up on sleep, or working out. Food never seemed to take top priority, and he was being reprimanded for that now, he thought as he grabbed a basket and felt his stomach churning.
Breakfast burritos, apples, a bunch of bananas, a bag of corn chips, a loaf of bread, some turkey, cheese, and ham. He could at least pack his lunch and take it to work this week. Should he go on a whim and buy some vegetables? He threw in some celery, carrots, and a bunch of broccoli. Might as well be well rounded. He needed some milk and juice, too.
His cell phone rang as he walked through the aisles. His caller ID told him it was Warrick calling.
"Hey, man" he said answering on the third ring. "Yeah, I just went to work out. I'm grabbing some food now. Man, I haven't gone grocery shopping in a month. Are you already at the lab?"
"Yeah, I had some DNA results to check on for Grissom. I think the team's all here, minus you, punk," Warrick said on the other end.
"Yeah, well what can I say?"
"Hey, just wanted to let you know I'm taping the game tonight, there's no way your watching it without me.
"Dude, that's the only reason you called me, bro? How long have we worked together?" he asked with a grin doing his best to dodge in and out of aisles and around displays of food.
"Alright, man. Just checkin'. Greg's comin' over after shift. We'll save your spot."
"Hey, man, I was dependable in high school, remember? I'll text you with the scores," he joked.
"Hey man, don't be cruel."
"Yeah, yeah," he laughed. "I'll see you in the morning," he nodded hanging up the phone. He was in the dairy section. He picked up a half gallon of milk, expiration date three weeks from today. Good. Now, some OJ. The man may have been in his thirties, but he still enjoyed his OJ minus the pulp. If he wanted the pulp in his juice, he'd settle for eating an orange. When it came to juice, he wanted just that, juice. Finding what he wanted, he made his way to the front of the store, but not without making a run to grab some popcorn and a case of beer. He'd grab a couple sodas from the cooler at the register.
He didn't see the two men enter the store. He didn't even see them when they walked right past him in the bread aisle. He only noticed them when one pulled out a gun and held it to the cashier's head. They were wearing black ski masks. Original, he thought as the events began to unfold in front of him. It seemed like slow motion.
The guys weren't much taller than him, 6'1" or 6'2" maybe. They weren't very muscular either, he noticed through their black t-shirts. They were scrawny even. He could take them.
"Let's go! Let's go! The money, lady! Don't make me kill you," the one on the right said throwing a duffle bag at the young woman, he was left handed. The girl couldn't be any older than 23, Nick thought. God, she looked scared. She was shaking uncontrollably, barely able to open her register.
"Not fast enough!" the second man said firing his weapon. Screams erupted from around the store as the girl went down and the cash drawer slid open. People began running through the store, employees, patrons; they wanted to see what was happening with their own frightened eyes. Nick had a front row seat of the whole show.
It was obvious these guys wanted money and they weren't afraid to get it. The question was; was this going to turn into a hostage situation?