A/T: Wow. It's the next-to-the-last-chapter. It feels so darn weird! I almost didn't write this story in the first place, so who knew I would ever reach the ending?
If this chapter rocks, then send me praise and awe. If it stinks, then blame The Sarcastic Typo. And the sweater thing is blamed on vixcintric. I fell in love with the sweater-thing because of her!
Disclaimer: So-o not mine.
Snapshots
Act 12: Wherein Drastic Measures Are Taken and There Are Coconuts
He couldn't believe he was going to do this.
Well, he could, but that wasn't the point.
David sighed as he waited in the break room, the lunch hour only a minute or two away. He briefly wondered how in the world he had drawn the short straw (because wasn't the rule of odds supposed to take effect at some point? Was it really possible that he was always the loser? Maybe the straws had some sort of vendetta against him. Next time, they were picking names out of a hat. Unless, of course, the hat had a vendetta against him as well. David would go from suspicious to scared, because inanimate objects weren't supposed to have vendettas.)
David restlessly shifted in his seat, hoping none of the CSIs wandered in anytime soon. They would inevitably ask him to run this or that; they obviously didn't understand that the lab rats were up to something and couldn't be bothered with matters as trivial as murder. Grissom might even inquire as to why Jacqui wasn't slaving over prints, but he, like everyone else, underestimated her determination to couple up everyone she knew. She would not eat, sleep, or relax until Bobby and David Phillips were dating.
And if she couldn't eat, sleep, or relax until they were together, then neither could anyone else.
For what felt like the millionth time, David checked the wall clock while running the plot over in his head. Jacqui had been very specific about what was going to go down: David Phillips would meet "them" for lunch as was the growing custom, but Jacqui and the rest of the group weren't actually going to be there. As a matter of fact, they were going to keep Bobby busy with something in his own lab at the other end of the building. David would give the coroner an excuse as to why they were late and then subtly (Subtle? Could he be subtle?) broach the subject of dating and Bobby.
Sure, it was a barebones scheme, but they were dealing with two thickheaded individuals.
David was shoved from his thoughts when the door opened, revealing David Phillips and his usual peanut butter and banana sandwich. If anything, you had to love the comfort of routine.
"Hey Super Dave," David greeted, sending a quick (and possibly fixed, but who knew?) smile from his place at the table.
"Hello," the coroner returned. "Sorry I'm late. We just finished taking apart Charlie Ebons's brain. Had to find a bullet."
Huh. David idly wondered what it would be like to have normal friends, ones that droned on and on about accounting or something.
"That's… nice."
"It wasn't, really. Al made a pretty deep cut and it kinda got everywhere."
"You mean bits of brain…?"
The other man somberly nodded. "Most of it got on my scrubs though, so-''
"Most of it? Where's the rest of it?"
The other man shrugged. "Some got on my shoe, but I'm pretty sure I got it all off."
David blanched; most things didn't squick him. He'd been there when his sister gave birth, he had seen every horror movie known to man, and he worked in a crime lab, having been witness to each unspeakable crime out there. But to be sitting across from a man that might possibly have pieces of brain on his shoe was- was-
David Phillips grinned. "You can calm down. I was only joking."
"Calm down? I'm calm. What makes you think I'm not calm?"
"You're looking like a frog, for one."
"Frog?"
"Wide eyes, slightly green, kind of clammy-''
"Bits of brain being stuck to the underside of my sneaker doesn't thrill me," David evenly replied. "They're brains. Most people have bubblegum or toilet paper caught to the bottom of their shoe, but you have part of Mr. Ebons's frontal lobe."
The coroner shrugged. "Brains are cool," he replied. "Besides, it's just matter. It's like… Jello or pudding or something."
David merely sighed in response. "I need friends outside of work," he muttered. "And now I don't want to ever eat Jello or pudding again."
"Actually, the human brain is more like firm jelly," the coroner amiably replied, as though talking about the weather. "And from what I hear, it took you a while to get the friends you already have."
David shot the other man a steely look. "For someone who has yet to be fully introduced to lab rat culture, you're pretty sure of yourself. And now I don't want jelly anymore, either. If you make anymore organ/food comparisons, I'm seriously giving up eating."
David Phillips grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "From what Jacqui tells me, I'm already an honorary lab rat. By the way, where is everyone? Hard at work? It's not like them to miss their lunch break."
The technician took a deep breath. He almost preferred to go back to the brain conversation as opposed his mission at hand. If Jacqui wanted to see a relationship flourish, why didn't she do the dirty work? Sending in someone like David was relationship suicide; the only reason he'd been so successful with Nick was because the Texan was patient and understanding.
"Actually, no. I was unfortunate enough to draw the short straw again, so it's my responsibility to get the ordeal over with."
The coroner blinked. "Why did you guys draw straws?"
David shook his head. This poor, naïve, fortunate soul. He had the chance to escape; why choose to hang around a bunch of mentally unstable technicians? David momentarily imagined a life without drawing straws or Milky Ways or punishing swami hats. Things would be so normal and smooth and… well, boring.
But no one needed to know that.
"One day you'll understand, young grasshoppah. Right now, all you need to know is that Jacqui's tried everything. She tried faking letters. She tried hinting. She tried insinuating rumors. She even thought about shoving you two in the storage closet to see if confined spaces were-''
"Shoving who in a closet?"
"You and Bobby," David replied. "Which brings me to this very conversation. It's been decided to abandon the entire 'subtle' approach and tell you upfront."
David now had an idea of what he had looked like a few moments ago, when the coroner was describing the physical consistency of the human brain. Indeed, David Phillips had gone rather green and then pale, his eyes were larger than a small moon circling Pluto, and he was looking clammy himself. David couldn't decide whether to taunt or boggle Super Dave's mind with even more information; in the end, he figured that taunting could be done anytime, anywhere. Having the opportunity to explain the whole dating thing to a man who spent his time with corpses came once in a blue moon.
"You've been trying to get Bobby and I together?" David asked, looking as though the trace technician had proposed they all grab a couple of drinks and then go streaking through the Strip.
" 'Trying' being the key word. So far, you've been painfully oblivious."
A motion caught David's eye; Jacqui was peering in through the wall behind Super Dave, the glass giving her a perfect view. Ronnie had joined her as well, scrutinizing them from behind his specs; David supposed Archie was the one condemned to sidetrack Bobby so that the bullet tech wouldn't walk in on this little charade. Either way, why were they watching in the first place? Didn't they trust him to pull this off? Had he ever let them down before?
"Look, it's nice that you have Bobby's best interest at heart, but I'm not going to date him. He's my friend."
In the hallway, Jacqui was having an apoplexy. If David left it where it was, he knew his death warrant would be signed, sealed, and delivered. By this point, the blunt approach was the only one worth taking, because failure just wasn't an option. Not if he didn't want to have the swami hat glued to his head.
"You like him, right?"
The coroner sighed. "It doesn't matter. Listen, I better get back to work."
"Dave, you seem like a nice guy. From me to you, just ask Bobby out."
The coroner grew pale again and choked on nothing in particular. The technician winced; asphyxia due to Jacqui's insane romantic scheming wasn't totally unheard of.
"What did you say?" David asked, now a bright shade of stoplight.
"I said go for it. If he shoots you down, he's going to give you a pillow to land on. He's just that kind of guy."
"If he shoots me down?"
"But I'm pretty sure he won't."
"I couldn't-''
"Unless you're physically incapable of speaking, then yes you can."
"But-''
"Why are we arguing about this?"
"I don't even know him that well. I mean, we've grabbed breakfast together a few times, but-''
"See? You've been dating and you don't even know it."
The coroner rose from his chair and stood his full height, but it was no use. David was still taller.
"I have a choice in the matter, don't you think?"
David stared at the other man for a moment before shaking his head, obviously amused at the defiant words. If the other man really wanted to be part of their group, then he was going to have to understand their form of government; Jacqui was president, queen, and goddess. There wasn't any way around that.
"Dave, Jacqui's involved in this. You have no choice. No one has a choice. If it were up to me, do you think I'd be here?"
The man across from him heaved a suffering sigh and shook his head in response.
"You're a grown man and can handle your own relationships," David continued. "But as it is, if I fail to convince you to ask him out, Jacqui's going to chop my head off and use my brains for pâté."
"Sounds gourmet."
"I'd prefer to keep my brains, thank you very much."
"I want you to keep all your vital organs as well, but-''
"Appease her, I beg thee. Besides, Bobby likes you."
"Has he actually said that?"
"Not in so many words, but we've known him for a long time. We can tell."
"Fine," the bespecled man said, not looking at all happy about the developments. David could tell he wasn't enthused about his imminent task, but he'd rather submit to it than continue with their current conversation. Truth be told, David was content with Super Dave's surrender. He wasn't sure how much more of Jacqui's strategies he could take before checking into the nut house. "I'll… I'll ask him today."
"When?"
"In five minutes, right after I deliver these reports to Grissom."
"I think Jacqui can wait that long. And if you think you can leave, I'll have you know that Archie's manning the front door and Ronnie's got the side."
"What is this, some sort of tactical maneuver?"
"No, this is Jacqui on a mission. The fear that's striking your heart as we speak is felt by men everywhere."
…
"Well, what'd you say? How'd he ask? I need details!"
Bobby froze at his place in front of the microscope before turning and giving the four of them an alarmed look, Jacqui especially. She had a frightening twinkle in her eyes that made all four men nervous. Of course, David couldn't blame Bobby; he had been working on a bullet fragment, intent with his assignment until the quartet had come busting through the doors simultaneously, startling Bobby and consequently tearing his concentration away from the striations.
"What are ya'll doing in my lab?" Bobby slowly asked, giving each tech a bewildered look before finally turning towards Ronnie, the only one who was ever sane enough to explain a situation in clarifying detail. "I don't think it's break ti-''
"Spare us the innocent act. I want a word-by-word account," Jacqui interjected, quickly approaching the other man with a predatory step.
"Of what, my bathroom break?"
"When David asked you out!"
Bobby turned towards the trace technician, clearly puzzled. "When you did what?"
David reached and smacked him upside the head, in no mood for games. Sure, a dazed and confused Bobby was amusing, but it was only cute for so long. Besides, David had worked far too vigorously over the past week and a half for Bobby and David Phillips to chicken out on them now.
"Not me, you moron. David Phillips!"
"Oh, well, that makes more- wait, David wants to ask me out? On a date?"
"Dude, don't try to play us. We're the ones who set it up," Archie announced, grinning. "You can drop the act."
"Wait, when did this happen?" Bobby inquired, all thoughts of bullet fragments now gone. "I don't get it. Was this yesterday? Who set what up?"
Ronnie twitched an eyebrow, sharing a dubious expression with Archie. "Either you're an incredible actor or Super Dave managed to elude our lookout."
But Jacqui wasn't as calm as Ronnie; as a matter of fact, she was seething. Ronnie, David, and Archie exchanged alarmed looks before taking a few cautious steps backwards. After all, Jacqui had been outsmarted somehow and that never sat well with her.
"That weasel much have used the backdoor! I never thought he'd slither away like that. Boys, it's time for Plan B!"
"We have a plan B?" Archie asked, raising his eyebrows.
Jacqui paused. "Not really, but we will in about five minutes. All I need is a typewriter, a rental car, and a courier dove."
Those weren't good words, because she actually would get anything to make a dating plan work. She refused to have her spotless matchmaking record sullied by a failed attempt. Ronnie, seeing the beginnings of even more ornate scheming, leaned in towards Bobby and murmured, "Please just ask him out already. She's got that glint in her eye."
"That's a dangerous glint," Bobby whispered in agreement. "The last time she looked like that, Chandra Moore was running out of the lab faster than Roadrunner."
"Chandra Moore had it coming," Jacqui replied. "You don't act like you run the lab when other techs have been here longer. Besides, she was child's play." There was a pause in her statement before she glanced at Bobby, a small frown tugging at her lips. "Of course, maybe I've gone a bit crazy. Do you even like him?" "Whoa. Are you actually giving Bobby a choice?" Archie asked, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. "Silence, geek," she retorted before turning her attention back to Bobby. "Do you like him? You've never actually said one way or the other." "What a concept," David muttered. "Pairing two people who like each other. Maybe that's the clue we've been missing all this time.""Like him?" Bobby echoed, as though scandalized, completely ignoring David's tart observation. "Look at the shirt I'm wearing!"
"Thanks for clearing that up for us," Archie retorted, rolling his eyes. "After all, your shirt completely gives away your feelings."
"I'm sayin' I look like a mess," Bobby replied, obviously unsettled by the thought of his coroner love interest seeing him in shambles.
"Bobby, the guy took apart a man's brain today. Your choice of clothing isn't going to make a difference," the trace technician replied. What was so hard about this?
"I know, but I want to make sure I'm wearing the right thing. You can just spontaneously ask someone out. And I'll have to find a restaurant, the right day-''
Upon hearing these words, Jacqui reverted to her true self, turning to face the three men next to her. "Boys, we've done all we could," she announced. "I think it's time for drastic action."
"Drastic what?" Bobby asked, but was cut off when Ronnie grabbed the bullet tech's left arm and Archie grabbed the right. They manhandled him out of the lab and through the rarely used back hallway; Bobby immediately began to protest when he saw where they were going, but Ronnie was strong and Archie was insistent, so Bobby wasn't able to escape their iron grip by the time they arrived to the coroner's office. David was fortunate, needing only to follow them should Bobby somehow escape and try to turn back.
"This is for your own good," Archie offered in attempt to cut off Bobby's objection. "We want you to be happy, plus we want Jacqui off our backs, so it's a win/win."
Jacqui approached two double doors that read 'Coroner's Office' before theatrically throwing them open.
The quintet was met by a trio of inquisitive stares: Al Robbins, Nick Stokes, and David Phillips himself. They were crowding around the lifeless body of an unidentified male; David half expected the corpse to sit up and see what was going on as well. After all, it was a pretty bizarre scene.
"Hello boys!" Jacqui greeted as though this was a common occurrence. "You've got a visitor."
David Phillips, being the intelligent man that he was, appeared to understand what was going on and took a startled step back. He shook his head, trying to form words, but humiliation was forbidding acceptable means of communication.
"What are you all doing here?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is this in regard to the Ebons case?"
"No," Jacqui pleasantly replied. "We're just resolving some romantic tension. Trying to give Bobby a push in the right direction."
"That wasn't a push!" Bobby said, his voice rising to a higher octave altogether. "That was a violent shove!" "Your shock and surprise puzzles me," David intoned. "Did you honestly think Jacqui wouldn't do this? Because if you didn't, then it's time to wake up and smell the embalming fluid." "I didn't think I'd be physically dragged to the autopsy room!""Bobby, she hired a stripper for my birthday last year. She has no shame."
"But-''
"Look, this isn't difficult. You like David, right?" Archie asked, giving Bobby and pointed look before jabbing his finger in the coroner's direction. Bobby turned a strange shade of red before squeaking and trying to reply.
"And you like Bobby," Ronnie said, turning towards David Phillips and speaking in a matter-of-fact voice. "It seems simple enough to me."
"Ronnie, I swear I'm going to-''
"Threaten me later. As it is, we're standing in the middle of a morgue. Not very romantic," Ronnie mused, looking around. "The stainless steel interior isn't doing much by way of mood."
"Neither are the corpses," Archie helpfully added.
"Or the sharp autopsy tools," David finished. "Kind of takes away the intimate vibe."
"So just to make sure we're clear," Jacqui said, "We've made two reservations at Swan's Court for tonight. You two will be going. If you have plans, break them."
"But-'' Bobby began, finally finding his voice. "Jacqui, I d-''
"You can thank us later," Jacqui said, cutting him off as she began towards the door, her duty now complete. "We were only too happy to help."
"I don't think that's what he was going to say," Archie said, laughter sparkling in his eyes as his smile lit up the room. "But what are a few disillusioned lies between friends? Oh, and Nick, I've got the surveillance footage when you're ready," he continued. "Jacqui's got your prints too."
"Hit in AFIS," she confirmed, Ronnie opening the door for her in his gentlemanly manner, Archie and David trailing behind. "If you're curious, you know where I am."
Nick nodded slowly as Al stood next to him, rather stunned himself. David doubted either man registered the words.
There was a silence as the four men stood motionless in the autopsy room. Al glanced at David Phillips who cast a nervous look at Bobby who was too humiliated to stare at anything but the floor. Nick's shock, on the other hand, was beginning to give way to amusement. The lab rats were certainly an insane group of people- to go so far to just get their two friends together? It was lunacy; a lunacy he was more than happy to be a part of.
The shocked silence didn't break until someone opened the door again.
Nick smiled as his boyfriend poked his head around the door. David observed the quiet room with blue eyes before pinning his gaze on Nick.
"Nicholas Stokes, if you get brain, organ, or any other part of the human body on your shoe, you aren't stepping foot on my carpet," he announced, pointing at the Texan before shutting the door behind him.
Nick's grin grew wider when the door opened again.
"And we're still on for today," David continued. "But I'm serious about the brain thing."
Close.
Pause.
Open.
"And Bobby, sorry about this whole fiasco. We tried to quell Jacqui, but she was set on doing this. Ronnie and Archie have offered to pay for whatever therapy you need."
"Hope they're ready to take out a second mortgage," Bobby replied, a hint of annoyance finally emerging. David grinned from his place behind the door.
"Good man," he said before leaving for good.
Al shook his head and started laughing.
…
This time, he wasn't nearly as nervous as he was on the night of his first date with Nick. He didn't even need to borrow clothes (even though Carter had given him the jeans from earlier, claiming they looked much better on David then they did on him.) David ended up wearing them, because they were a lot more comfortable than they looked, and then uncovered a black turtleneck sweater thing that Jacqui had bestowed upon him for Christmas two years ago. It was rarely worn, but he was willing to break out of the norm. Work shirt versus sweater… thing. He could live with that.
He was going to Nick's for dinner. He could also live with that. No one even knew; he had mentally prepared himself for this in advance, so there wasn't any need for a panic call. He grabbed his jacket, keys, cell phone, and bravery before locking the door behind him. He had given serious consideration to leaving via fire escape, but he supposed that if Daphne was peering out the peephole, waiting for him to pass by her door, then she had something important to say. Maybe he could one day teach her to just knock when she wanted to talk about something. He wasn't going to bite her head off.
Well, he almost did once, but he had been in a bad mood. Shitty night, heartbreaking case. Oh yeah, he had also been accused of blowing up the lab. (Daphne, after catching wind of this, instantly forgave his temper.)
David knew he should have been surprised when her door swung open the moment he began towards the elevator, but Daphne's antics never shocked him anymore. He simply sighed instead, hoping Nick wouldn't mind that David was going to be a bit late. After all, conversations with Daphne were never short.
"Daph, how many times have I told you that staring through the peephole is creepy? Serial killers do things like that."
She paused a moment, actually considering both the question and the comparison, before responding. "I didn't know if you had a date, so I decided to be on the lookout. I knew you wouldn't tell me considering last week."
"When you told the entire floor I was going out to dinner? Yeah, sorry, you aren't getting any more details from me. Ever."
"So you admit you're heading out to see Nick? Judging by the duds, I'd have to agree. Nice shirt, by the way. It shows you off."
David was suddenly glad he had thrown on his jacket beforehand. He quickly slipped it on and zipped it up, shielding himself from her eyes. Did any of the women he knew have any feministic manners?
"Do you mind?"
"No. Do you?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well, in that case, wear an oversized t-shirt. Your problems will be solved."
"Daphne, I know the concept I'm about to introduce is going to blow your mind, but bear with me. Most conversations have a point. Does this particular chat have a specific direction or are we just wasting oxygen?"
"Probably the latter, but has that ever stopped me before?" she asked, smiling as she shuffled out into the hallway, dressed in blue pajamas with yellow rubber ducks printed on various points. "I just wanted to tell you to have fun, okay? Tell me all about it when you get back. If you get back."
David fought down the blush that was threatening to rise. What exactly was she implying? That he was going to sleep with Nick? That was just insanity.
"Also, I've been overcome with this strange sense of emotional-''
"God, are you… you know, cycling? Because I've got a bag of Hershey kisses in the kitchen and they're yours if you want them. Just don't start crying."
Daphne rolled her eyes, muttering something about men, before walking over to him and giving him an unexpected bear hug.
"I just want to tell you that you're one of my best friends and I'll always think you're the best guy ever."
"Most would wonder what you're on."
"Shut up and accept a compliment every once in a while, would you?"
"Daph," David began, prying her arms from around his waist, "You talk like you're planning to leave me."
"Leave you?" she echoed, disbelief coloring her words. "No way. Besides, you're the only one who'll fix my plumbing for free."
"If only to keep the brass monstrosity off my couch," David replied, ignoring the rush of relief that crashed over him. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he'd do if Daphne ever decided to find bigger and better things in life.
"Tubas are God's way of telling people he hasn't given up on the world of music. Remember that, David. Oh, and I almost forgot."
"Forgot what?"
"DAVID'S LEAVING TO GO SEE NICK! EVERYONE WISH HIM LUCK!"
David jumped back in surprise before counteracting himself and nearly lunging for the woman in front of him. Before he was able to commit a homicidal act, most of the doors flew open and numerous heads stuck out, chorusing together, wishing David the best of luck. Bernard and Carter did the same, various words of "have fun" and "tell us about it" making David wish he lived in a cave on an island in the middle of nowhere. David physically cringed when Ms. Rainey followed suit.
"Don't forget to use protection, David," she ordered, the demand strange sounding coming from her innocent mind. (How innocent exactly? David planned on mulling that over later.) At the moment, he was beyond humiliated (but somehow unsurprised) and slunk towards the elevator, wishing the ground would just swallow him up.
…
When Nick opened his door, he expected to see David, but he didn't expect to see David blushing. Nick knew few things ever affected David like that, but one entity came to mind that made Nick pretty sure he knew what was going on.
"Either you've caught yourself a fever or you didn't escape your apartment unscathed," Nick noted, opening the door and allowing David entrance. David didn't reply at first, obviously disgruntled as he walked in, toed off his shoes, and headed straight towards the kitchen.
"She's the devil Nick, I swear it," David called as Nick laughed, shut the door behind him, and listened as the other man opened the refrigerator door and helped himself to a beer. "She sucks people into a safe bubble and then utterly betrays them."
"Considering Ms. Rainey isn't big on betrayal, I'm going to venture a guess and say you're referring to Daphne."
"Try ranting. She was telling me how I'm her best friend, how she'll never abandon me, etcetera, and then she bellows that I'm leaving to come see you. The second floor has no life whatsoever. They all stampeded towards their door before I had the chance to escape."
"That sounds-''
"Humiliating and painful? It was."
"I was going to say 'amusing'."
"You realize that I hate you, right? And that this entire dating thing is just a clever ruse?"
Nick grinned as he joined David in the kitchen, dropping a kiss on the technician's lips before turning off the stove, having just finished cooking their dinner. He wasn't sure what David's favorite food was (looking back, he supposed that three years of working together should have given him some sort of hint), but he heard from Archie who heard from Ronnie who heard from Jacqui that David had a thing for Thai cuisine, so Nick decided to try his luck and found some decent looking recipes online.
"It's one hell of a ruse, then," he replied.
"I take pride in my cons," David retorted, shooting Nick a half smile. "But this is my best work so far."
Nick merely rolled his eyes good-naturedly and made a move to reply, but the mention of David's neighbors shifted his thoughts, forcing his mind to take a mental turn down a different road. "Speaking of Daphne, how'd her date go?"
"From the indecipherable message she left on my machine, she had a great time with Carter."
"Don't you mean Dexter?"
"Arg," David groaned; Nick's grin grew even wider when David made a face at the mention of his archenemy's name. "Don't make me call him that. He'll always be the guy who won't throw out his trash. He's the Carter in 2L. Daphne and I were even planning to throw him into a live volcano on a savage-inhabited jungle island."
Nick snorted at the prompt words. "First of all, that's a pretty elaborate plan-''
"Elaborate, yes. Impossible? No. We even had the specific island in mind. Like I said, she's a traitor. Now that she's in this alleged relationship, she doesn't want to throw him into a lava pit. Ergo, you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"This relationship is just a clever ruse, remember? I'm merely leading you on so I can use you in my evil plot."
"To throw Dexter into a volcano?"
David let out an exaggerated sigh. "It's about time you caught on. For such a pretty face, you aren't particularly bright."
Nick honestly couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up inside of him. Back in Texas, the women he dated tried too hard, instantly agreeing with everything he said. None of them were very good at making conversation and when they did, it was mundane and boring. They were always sweet girls (whom his parents loved), but there wasn't the slightest spark between him and any of them. With David, it was completely different. He agreed only when he thought he should; if he didn't agree, then he wasn't going to pretend that the other person was right. Also, conversations between them were never dull. Ever. How many people could honestly say they conspired to throw their neighbor into a live volcano? Nick wouldn't bet many.
"This may sound a bit crazy, but have you ever thought to be happy for her?" Nick asked while he reached for two plates, watching as David grabbed a pair of glasses from another cabinet. They were setting the table together; it was an oddly comforting, domestic task. Nick mentally shook off the feeling of bewilderment. Who knew he'd ever share mornings like these with David Hodges? It felt like they had been thrown together by weird twists of coincidences, long strings of moments that collided with each other no matter how much they fought it in the beginning.
"Of course I have, but I choose not to be. Not until he lives up to my impossible standards."
"If they're impossible, then how can he reach them?"
"That's the entire point, Nick. Keep up."
"Right, sorry. It's difficult to understand your mindset."
"You're a smart guy, I'm sure you'll learn. What's worse is that she's floating on air-"
"That's terrible."
David, understanding that he was being mocked, shot Nick a cool glance before continuing on. "She's way too happy, she's watching too many romantic comedies even for her standards, and she's even trying to detach herself from that doll of hers."
"All that happiness must be physically painful for you."
"She played the tuba version of 'I've Got You Under My Skin' fourteen times yesterday. Sinatra should be rolling over in his grave."
"I'm sure it was beautiful."
"Every time she started it again, I died a little inside."
"Well, she's falling in love. You've gotta give her some leniency."
"The whole 'love' process still baffles me, so I don't plan on giving her an ounce of mercy."
"Baffles? Hell, I almost forgot to ask," Nick said, looking up from his duty of dishing out some noodles, "What in the world was that in the autopsy room during shift? Robbins was still chuckling when I clocked out."
The smile on David's lips could only be described as one of pride. "That was Jacqui Franco at her most shrewd. Perhaps you noticed the look of absolute horror on Super Dave and Bobby's face?"
"It was hard to miss."
"That expression is Jacq's trademark. Anyone with that look spoke with, saw, or passed Jacqui on the street at some point in their life."
Nick hummed with amusement, trying not to snigger as David set out their silverware, talking openly. Nick knew David, like Greg, had the innate ability to talk without saying anything at all. (That is, of course, when he wasn't busy being sarcastic.) He had a tendency to burst into a story of some sort –something completely random about hamsters and lucky rabbit's feet- but not reveal a single personal detail about his life or past. Nick knew he would have to start paying attention and reading between the lines if he wanted to understand it all. The Texan wondered if he could be such a multi-tasker and then supposed he'd have to figure out how eventually. After all, he wanted to keep David around for a long time.
The meal was finally complete. David thanked him for it (and then sent him a glare daring Nick to quip along the lines of, "Are you actually being nice?") before they dug in. The conversation that followed was easy, consisting of sarcasm in healthy doses and funny stories about the techs, including the one time Jacqui hid all of Greg's CDs and Greg, in retaliation, had denied her coffee. Nick knew the rest of his CSI pals would be startled to discover just how close the techs actually were. They went out together; movies, dinner, and bowling night, which was really in the afternoon. Ronnie's children called Jacqui 'Aunt' and David, Archie, Bobby, and Greg 'Uncle'. Jacqui even conned David into taking her to her gynecologist's appointment after her car broke down. It was these tales piled together that made Nick realize there was an entire culture that the CSIs were missing and he was all too happy to be a part of it.
"You know, this isn't half bad," David said, nodding towards his plate. "I didn't know you could cook."
"Grew up with six different women constantly pulling me around. I caught on to cooking pretty fast."
"Yeah, but Thai? I doubt green curry goes with steak and homemade pie," he replied, smiling as Nick shook his head at the intended cliché. "Not that I'm complaining, which I usually am. About everything. All the time."
"I kinda noticed the first day I met you."
"The first time you met me, you called me 'the trace guy' and tossed a pile of fibers my way before sprinting out the door."
"Oh, right. Can I chalk that night up to the crazy case I was working?"
"You can chalk it up to your mad attraction to me and being unable to spend more than sixty seconds in my presence lest you feel the need to throw me over the lab counter, but I won't believe you."
"So you wouldn't believe me if I said I was attracted to you the first time we met?"
"If 'attracted' is synonymous with 'loathed', then yes."
"Well, it wasn't complete hatred."
"Likewise."
"But…"
"It wasn't exactly angels singing and soul mate revelations either."
"Nope. You were just the trace guy."
"And you were just the hunky CSI with whom the trace guy had no chance."
Nick's look was incredulous. "You're kidding."
David shrugged, a humorous glint in his eye. "That's the joy of a theoretic conversation. You'll never really know."
"Dude, seriously. Tell me."
"Not even on my death bed."
"That's just cruel."
"All is fair in love and war."
"Don't think I won't retaliate. I'll… dunk your head in all that extra coconut milk I've got stored in the kitchen."
David snickered, placing his fork down and trying to cover his peels of laughter with his hand. Nick had to sit back and admire that; David laughed, sure, but to see it come so unselfconsciously was quite a sight to behold.
"Care to share the joke?"
"It's not a joke," David managed to reply. "It's just… the coconuts."
"The coconuts," Nick echoed, clearly puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
"There's this scene in a movie…" David trailed off, uncertain whether to continue with his irrelevant tale or brush it off. In the end, he decided on a subtle mixture of both. "Every time someone mentions coconuts, Archie starts clapping his hands together and galloping around the room. It's from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. You'll have to see it one day." There was a pause before David arched an eyebrow, taking in Nick's blank expression with a hint of amusement. "Nick, you look confused. Did I use big words?"
Nick rolled his eyes but couldn't fight his smile. "I'm not confused, but I think I have that movie."
"You think?"
"Yeah, Greg gave it to me for Christmas. Says I have to see it."
"You haven't even opened it?" David asked, as though scandalized. Who owned Monty Python and the Holy Grail but didn't watch it?
Nick shrugged. "Haven't gotten around to watching it yet," he replied, pausing in his explanation as he caught the shocked expression David was shooting him. "We can –uh- watch it now, if you want."
"Watch it now? We have to watch it now. This movie is a lab rat classic. Between the five of us, we've seen it thirty-six times. As a matter of fact, it's my obligation to make you watch it."
"I guess that's why Greg gave it to me, right?"
"Despite past experiences, I've found that Greg has his bright moments. This just happens to be one of those rare times," David retorted as he rose and walked into Nick's living room, shuffled through the video shelf, and found the unopened DVD case. Meanwhile, Nick cleared off the table, their meal eaten (both had been hungry and gulped it down pretty fast, so their plates were practically clean already) before following David into the living room and stopping to watch him fight with the plastic.
David was never one to let an inanimate object get the better of him, so the plastic was off within the moment. He knelt in front of the television as he spoke.
"Besides, you have to see this movie if you want to be an honorary lab rat."
"Is that all I have to do? No hazing?"
David paused a moment. "We aren't big on the hazing, but there are a couple of tests you have to pass before you can be officially inducted."
"I already did the test, man. No more tests for me."
"That was the dating test, which isn't the same."
"Do you guys realize how screwed up you are?"
David grinned. "Absolutely. That's why only the stupidest or bravest dare to apply for an honorary position."
"Oh? And which am I?"
"I'd venture to guess both."
"If I didn't know you better, I'd be offended. How can I be brave and stupid?"
"Easy. You're brave for getting involved in our group and you're pretty stupid for wanting to date me in the first place. You defy classification."
"That makes me feel so much better."
David grinned again before joining Nick on the couch. Nick did a small victory in his dance when he saw that David was sitting next to him, not at the other end. "I wouldn't worry. I think you and Super Dave are the first and last honorary members anyway."
"And what about Greg? He's not a tech anymore."
"We consider Greg alumni," David easily replied. "As long as he brushes up on his secret passwords and handshakes, he's in. That's Archie's rule, of course. I was gung ho about kicking him out until I realized we might lose his coffee too."
"He makes excellent coffee," Nick agreed.
"It wasn't a risk we were willing to take," David informed, jumping past the previews with the remote control. "So Greg's still in as long as he has access to the goods."
"Man, you sound just like Warrick. A day without Greg's coffee and he's inoperable."
"Sounds like Greg himself. He's zombie-ish without caffeine. Barebone communication skills, pathetic attempts at sarcasm, lack of thought process." Beat. "Now that I think about it, I think he's caffeine deficient all the time."
Nick merely smiled as a comfortable silence set over them, both intent on watching the opening scene. The man came out and collected the dead and then, even better, King Arthur appeared as he traveled with his faithful coconut-beating companion. Nick now understood what Archie must have looked like now when he galloped around a room; once Nick had a visual, David explained it further and Nick suddenly wished Archie were there so he could see for himself.
It wasn't until King Arthur and the guards began to argue whether a swallow could carry a coconut that David sent Nick a sidelong look.
"I bet you know the answer to that question, bird geek."
"And the loving, tender affection keeps on coming."
"It's been called many things, but 'loving, tender affection' is a first."
Nick gave him a 'no surprise there' look before shaking his head, amused, and looping an arm around David, intent on the movie…
Until his fingers brushed David's jacket.
"Aren't you hot in that that?"
David tried not to show his discomfort by the question, his hopes of Nick not asking now dashed. He had been in such a rush to get away from the insane asylum (cleverly disguised as the second floor) that he didn't think to change his sweater, something Daphne claimed he actually looked good in. But if he looked like he was trying too hard then Nick might think… damn. This was all Jacqui's fault. She never should have bought it for him in the first place.
"People seem to think so."
Nick rolled his eyes at the bad joke before saying, "Seriously, do you have ice water for blood? It's a little warm in here, don't you think?"
"Feels fine to me."
"David…"
"I'm fine, really."
"David, you're being ridiculous. Unless you're shirtless under there or wearing one of Greg's bad t-shirts, then I don't see why you can't just take off the jacket."
"I'm not hot."
"I swear I'll turn on the heater full blast. Like- a hundred degrees."
"We live in the desert. If you want me to suffer, then just shove me outside."
David turned and met one of Nick's patented 'you can't bullshit me' looks. David had hoped that maybe he could get away with it, but he doubted Nick let anyone pull the wool over his eyes, not even the man he was dating. David inwardly cursed; he had already drawn so much attention to himself that Nick had moved from just wanting to make sure David was comfortable to becoming bitingly curious. Damn CSIs. Why couldn't Nick be someone from Laguana Beach? (Greg had introduced him to the brain-dead show. It made David worry about the future of America.) Those people didn't care about anything.
Under the continuing force of the YCBM look, David rolled his eyes and reached for the zipper. "Good Lord, you win," he announced, sliding his arms from the sleeves. "Just don't look at me."
"What, the entire time you're here? That's gonna be kinda hard, don't you think?"
Nick had meant it jokingly (how were you supposed to have a guest and not look at them?) as he turned to see what David was so worried about.
A second later, he realized that David had the right idea.
It took one glance –one single glance- before Nick knew he was in trouble. David was wearing this black sweater thing and even though Nick didn't have a specific name for it, it still made him look utterly amazing. Nick quickly turned his head back to the movie. Don't get him wrong: the movie was funny and he could see why Greg and his friends liked it so much, but it was hard to concentrate when he was suddenly so turned on.
This called for drastic action.
"I better make sure I turned the oven off."
Nick didn't have time to dwell on how lame that sounded; he was already half way to the kitchen anyway. He knew it probably seemed rude or just plain weird and he could feel David's confused gaze follow him out of the living room. He quickly began making noises in the kitchen, hoping it sounded like he was doing something productive as opposed to hiding out, trying to escape the tortures of being a man. He and David hadn't had sex. Had barely talked about sex. David even said he wanted to wait a while, and Nick could agree with that, but why did he have to make the wait so difficult? Why couldn't he wear some ratty old t-shirt instead? Along with other unattractive articles of clothing? Nick sighed. He could deal with it. He could deal with it because he liked David, respected him, wanted him to feel-
"Nick?"
Nick turned at the voice, suddenly noting that the television was no longer on and David was standing in the kitchen doorway, barefoot in dark jeans and the black sweater thing that was going to drive Nick crazy.
"Oh, hey, sorry," Nick began, feeling rushed somehow. "Didn't wanna burn the house down."
"Hm. You know, I seem to remember you turning the oven off before we ate."
"Did I? Guess I forgot."
"You also seem to forget I work with you CSIs. I've been programmed to sniff out the BS."
"Right." Nick didn't like where this conversation was going.
"So…" David trailed off, wandering into the kitchen as well, leaning against the refrigerator while Nick rested against the sink. "You want to tell me what kind of war you're having inside that pretty head of yours or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Sorry, let me rephrase that: tell me what's going on inside that pretty head of yours or I will beat it out of you."
"Break out the caveman clubs, because I'm not telling you otherwise."
"Don't make me guess. I'll stand here all day, spouting out random speculations."
"Spout away."
"Fine, but you asked for it," David warned, wearing a smile that was an accumulation of smugness and uncertainty. "Guess number one: Did I say something wrong? Because you're going to have to be honest with me when I offend you, which might be on an hourly basis."
Nick blinked and quickly shook his head. The last thing he wanted was for David to think he had said something when, truthfully, he actually hadn't stuck his foot in his mouth all day.
"Guess number two: Have a large amount of lab rat stories terrified you into silence?"
Nick smiled and shook his head again.
"Guess number three: In particular, was my detailed account of the horrific gynecologist office too much for you to handle?"
Nick laughed at that and shook his head for the third time; David hadn't spared a single fact when it came to that story, going on about how uncomfortable it was to be stuck watching Lifetime, reading outdated Women's Day magazines, being surrounded by pregnant women, and then being mistaken for Jacqui's husband… several times.
"You're killing me, Nick."
Nick sighed. He supposed that one of the quirks of working with CSIs was that said worker learned to unearth every single secret, no matter how small, seemingly insignificant, or embarrassing it was. "This is going to sound stupid."
"No more stupid than standing in the kitchen and trying to read your thoughts. Go ahead and spit it out."
The Texan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, opened his mouth to express his desires, and then closed it again. No way was he doing this… not even for David. They could stand there all day, but Nick just couldn't bring himself to say anything. He wondered if he could get away with a lie. He swiftly began going through a list of stale fibs, trying to remember which ones David had heard before. He was struck with how wrong it felt to lie to someone he cared for so much, especially if it was about their relationship. It was just sex, right? Nothing to be ashamed about, right? So why couldn't he bring himself to say anything? Was he afraid he'd run David off? Or appear too desperate? Or just look like a jackass?
"I can see the truthful approach isn't going to work, so let's deduce this scientifically," David said, interrupting Nick's speeding train of thought. "You didn't mute yourself until I shed the jacket, so I can only assume that something happened between then and now that I wasn't aware of."
"It wasn't anything you did. Well, it might have been, but it was me too. It's kinda the entire package."
"The entire package?"
"Yeah, the whole enchilada. You told me not to look, but I thought it was the craziest thing I ever heard, so I did look."
"And?"
"And you make it complicated for a man to concentrate on anything else."
There was a silence before David's smile suddenly grew, realization dawning. Nick wanted him. Nick wanted him. Whether or not Nick knew it, David had been telling the truth when he said he was attracted to the Texan the first day they met. He had been so certain that there wasn't a possibility between them that the thought of this very moment actually happening gave David a good laugh over the years.
"Well, in that case," David replied, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips as he sauntered the few feet it took to reach Nick. "Why didn't you just say something?"
"Uh, I didn't want to look stupid?"
"It's a little late for that," David murmured, looping his arms around Nick's neck and pressing his body against the other man. "But I'm willing to overlook it if you're willing to just kiss me already."
Oh.
Well.
Nick could do that.
Their lips finally met in more than just a welcome brush; it was slow, languid, like molasses. Nick's arms wound around David's waist as he pulled him closer, sweeping his tongue over David's lips and silently begging for entrance. David responded quickly, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss, not realizing that his initial hesitation from when they first began their relationship was gone. He trusted Nick to not hurt him. He'd always have his insecurities; he knew this, his friends knew it, and Nick probably knew it too, but for the most part, he was ready for whatever Nick had in mind.
"Nick?"
"Yeah?"
David did a silent celebration. Nick had ragged breathing and disorientation. Who knew he could cause it?
"This is the kitchen."
"Um… yes it is."
"Kissing in a kitchen's fine, but anything else that follows would probably go better in another room. Preferably one with a bed."
"Oh," Nick managed to say, the words sounding breathless and unsteady. It was obvious he was trying to organize his thoughts. "I know you don't want to do anything until after more than just one date, and I totally get that, but-''
"Hell, don't listen to what I say," David replied, giving Nick a hard kiss. By doing so, he was distracting Nick, giving David the opportunity to lead them out of the kitchen, past the living room, and through the hallway. They only made it halfway through the foyer before David pushed Nick against the wall, putting more effort into the kiss than navigating the house.
"Not listen?" Nick gasped, breaking from the kiss. "That would be…"
"Exactly what I want."
"Ditto, but I don't want you to feel pressured or anything.''
David made a show of mulling this over as he took his thigh and casually pressed it against Nick's lower half. What he had hoped to find there was a sign that Nick wanted this just was much as he did; to his relief, his thigh came in contact with a bulge that showed just how much Nick reciprocated his feelings.
"Nick, have you ever known me to be pressured by any known entity on this planet?"
Nick let out a weak, strangled exhalation; it took a moment for him to register and then understand the question, but he finally found his reply. "No," he rasped, his mind barely on the conversation at hand. David applied some more gentle pressure against Nick's erection and casually began unbuttoning Nick's shirt, slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world. He could only hope that Nick didn't feel the crazy beating of his heart, because David was more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life. His lead part in his fifth grade play, his first date, his interview for the position at the lab; it was elementary, because attempting to seduce Nick Stokes was like walking on a high wire. That is, utterly nerve wracking.
"Then we're clear?"
"Clear?" Nick echoed, barely able to keep his thoughts in order. David couldn't help but feel both flattered and a bit smug. He had never been able to turn someone on like this. "Oh, yeah. Um- totally clear."
"Good," David amiably replied, rather enjoying having Nick squirming under him. "Then we won't have a problem, right?"
He was halfway through with unbuttoning Nick's shirt; he had started at the top, and now that the neck was exposed, David took full advantage of the opportunity in front of him. He leaned forward and began kissing, licking, sucking Nick's neck, doing whatever would drag the most noise out the other man. Nick seemed to enjoy the section below his ear, so David concentrated his efforts there, content with the fact that he could make Nick breathe so heavily.
He finally finished with the buttons, peeling away the forest green shirt and throwing it onto the floor a few feet away. Nick made no complaints, which was good, because now David had to deal with the white t-shirt Nick had worn beneath it. Still, he didn't want to rush it. He moved back to Nick's lips, slowly slipping agile hands beneath the thin cotton t-shirt, content to just explore every inch of Nick's golden skin with his fingertips first.
David never really thought about it, but Nick often sported a 100 cotton look. Perhaps that was why every time David touched him, he fidgeted a bit and let out a series of delicious pants. David was certain he could make a recording of those pants and set it on repeat, content to listen to them for the rest of his days, but having the real thing was equally as satisfying. He could feel Nick become harder against his thigh and he furthered the pressure; not too hard, but enough to make Nick practically sag against the wall.
He had seen him shirtless before, but that was in the middle of the lab where anyone could walk in. He had been flustered and nervous and embarrassed, but this time it was different. It was just the two of them in a private place where David could admire Nick all he wanted.
He continued to kiss the man in front of him, running his hands up and down before the pads of his thumbs brushed the Texan's nipples. Nick, as if waking from a trance, sucked in a sharp breath before training an even gaze on David, his chest rising and falling with the difficult effort of breathing.
"I'm shirtless and you're not," he murmured, tugging at David's sweater impatiently. "We should remedy that."
David paused for only a moment, his expression one of uncertainty. He wasn't ashamed of his body or anything, but Nick was all sharp angles and ideal curvature. David wasn't. He bit his tongue. Nick had seen him shirtless before. What was David so nervous about? Jacqui even claimed it turned Nick on, which was what David wanted. Maybe he could pleasure Nick, make him so exhausted that he wouldn't even notice-
As if Nick could read his thoughts, he leaned in and kissed him, sliding his hands beneath the sweater before striping it away from David's body. The t-shirt quickly followed and David was suddenly dizzy by the skin-to-skin contact; his own breaths were sharper and his teasing was quickly becoming forgotten. It turned out that Nick knew a couple of tricks of his own, his fingers seeping beneath the waistband of David's jeans and David was embarrassed that he felt more like a teenager than the adult man he was.
"David, you should see how beautiful you are."
The words came from nowhere although they technically came from Nick's mouth; David opened his eyes and blue met brown.
"I don't know who you dated in L.A. or what he said to you," Nick whispered, punctuating his sentences with kisses on David's neck every few moments, "But I'm here to tell you that I think you're gorgeous. When I saw you in the locker rooms, I was so turned on that I had to get out of there or else you'd see."
David's heart palpitated at this confession and he tried to form words to reply –he honestly did- but he was so breathless from their activities and Nick's candid statement that he could only manage to let Nick take his hand, thread their fingers together, and quickly lead them towards the bedroom.
I never saw it happening
I'd given up and given in
I just couldn't take the hurt again
What a feeling.
I didn't have the strength to fight
Suddenly you seemed so right
Me and you
What a feeling.
What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
It's brighter than sunshine
Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly you're mine.
Brighter Than Sunshine, Aqualung
TBC.