A/N: Shorter chapter this time around, sorry, but it sets up pretty much the rest of the story. Once again, "CSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATION" denotes a break in the chapter. Uh, apologies to any people of Italian descent..you'll see why when you read it. Italics, this time around, denote what Nicky's thinking. Oh, and the rest of the CSI cast (or majority of it, anyway) should feature in the next few chapters. I know these past few have focused mainly on Nicky and Greggo, but, well, the story IS about them. Usual disclaimer applies...I'll try to get the next chapter up within a week, but no promises. Now, read on!

Chapter Six

"Take my hand
We'll make it I swear"

Nick woke up very early the next morning. He squinted at his watch and winced. Three o'clock in the freakin' morning…Sighing, he sat up slowly so as to not wake Greg and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

It had been a long day yesterday, and not a very satisfying one at that. He sighed again and laid back against the bed, carefully drawing Greg back to him.

It always amazed Nick to watch Greg when he slept. He hadn't known what to expect the first time they slept together, but it certainly hadn't been this. He'd expected tossing and turning, the insatiable energy that Greg showed during the day to come out at night time. Instead, Greg slept like a log, rarely moving and hardly ever waking in the middle of the night. In fact, Nick was fairly certain that he could sleep through a tornado.

Nick looked down at the sleeping man who had his arms wrapped around Nick's waist. Leaning down, Nick placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, smoothing the fine, blond-ish hairs away from his eyes. It was times like these when Nick could almost convince himself that Greg was fine, that this whole thing had been some kind of bad dream.

Then, inevitably, Greg would start shaking like now. A tremor seized his body, and while he slept right through it, his previously peaceful face contorted as if he was in pain. Nick gathered Greg's sleeping form closer to him, rocking him gently until the shaking subsided.

Closing his eyes, Nick tried to relax and fall back asleep, but he couldn't get his last conversation with Greg out of his head for some reason. "'A God-Loving Citizen' could stand for something. Or it could be an anagram."

Yeah, it could be an anagram, but what for? Those letters weren't exactly common. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Hm, let's see… he thought. Anagrams…anagrams…Diggle Conniv Toazi? Not so much. Coniving Legoz Dia? Once again, an astounding no. Victon Gioz Leading? None of these even made sense at all.

Nick sighed and rubbed his temples. This should not be this hard. Maybe it was a name? he thought, running a hand through his hair. Gavin Ced Gillnootz? Zac Degato Vilino? Vince Dagoon Tiligz?

Suddenly, he sat straight up, unable to believe it. "Vincent G. Doziglia," he breathed. "A God-Loving Citizen." Just as suddenly, he deflated. "No," he murmured, closing his eyes and sighing again. "It's missing an 'o'."

But still, it was so close…too close. He could practically hear Grissom chiding, "There's no such thing as a coincidence…"

Nick frowned. It had to have something to do with their dear friend Vincent, but what? He reached over Greg carefully to grab the case file from its position on the floor. He opened it and flipped to the printout on Vincent.

He stared at it, hardly daring to believe his luck. Right under the bold name across the top was a smaller name, the "birth name". And that birth name was not Vincent G. Doziglia. It was Vincento G. Doziglia.

"Yes," breathed Nick, feeling lighter than he had in days. "Yes, yes, Yes, YES!" He turned to Greg, shaking him to wake him up. "Greg…Greggo! Wake up, baby, there's something I need to tell you."

"Mmph," was Greg's muffled response as he buried his head deeper into the pillow. "'M sleeping."

Nick just laughed and pulled the half-asleep CSI into a sitting position. "Come on, sleepy head. This is far too important for you to sleep through, I promise."

Greg groaned wearily and opened one eye to glare at Nick. "This had better be good," he grumbled, closing his eye again. "I was in the middle of a really great dream involving you, me, Ballistics Joe and liquid latex."

Pausing only for a second to give Greg a bewildered look, Nick quickly shook his head and barreled on. "I was thinking about what you said…about 'A God-Loving Citizen' being an anagram. And I think I've figured out who the writer is."

He paused for effect, clearly waiting for Greg's reaction. "Well, no need to keep me hanging," said Greg dryly. "I mean, the suspense is just killing me." He paused, then laughed. "Ha, I made a funny! Get it; killing me?"

Nick frowned at him. "C'mon, this is serious," he said, taking Greg's hand and squeezing it. "Tell me, would it mean anything if I told you Vincent's real name is Vincento?"

Thinking for a second, Greg shrugged. "So what, Vincent's a dago?" he yawned, leaning back against the bed. "Good to know. I'll send him some lasagna for Christmas."

"Think, Greg," said Nick earnestly, grasping Greg's shoulders. "Vincento G. Doziglia."

It took Greg's sleep-numbed mind almost a minute to figure it out, but once he did, the look of amazement on his face was priceless. "Vincento G. Doziglia. A God-Loving Citizen. That's why the letter didn't seem to fit!" he exclaimed, bouncing on the bed in excitement. "Vincent obviously doesn't hate gay people; he is one!" His expression sobered into earnest determination. "Did you call Grissom? Or Brass?"

Nick grinned and pulled out his cell phone, offering it to Greg. "I was waiting for you to do the honors."

Greg grinned and dialed Grissom's number. "Griss, it's Greg." He paused, then grinned wickedly. "Tell me, how good are you at word games?"

CSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATION

Less then an hour later, Nick found himself in Grissom's office. The feeling of elation that he had previously felt was quickly fizzling. "I don't know, Nicky," said Grissom slowly. "His name's an anagram, sure, but you yourself said there was no motive."

"And you once told me that we don't deal in motive, that we only follow the evidence," countered Nick. "Well, the evidence is pointing at Vince."

Grissom sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Nicky, I want nothing more than to get this guy, but we have to be realistic. From a legal stand point, we just don't have the grounds to bring him in for questioning. Not across state lines."

"C'mon, Grissom!" said Nick desperately. "His name's an anagram for the elusive signature, the letter came from his house and by poisoning Greg, he technically attacked an officer."

"But nobody knows about that," Grissom pointed out, looking over his glasses at Nick. He sighed again. "I truly am sorry, but without something more concrete…"

"Damnit," muttered Nick, staring down at the desk, anger welling in him. "That's just not good enough."

A knock sounded on the door and Brass strolled in, looking triumphant. "Maybe I can throw you a bone. I put a detail on our friend Vince, mainly 'cause I didn't like him, and get this…our guy disappeared from his house around two o'clock this morning, reportedly heading towards Nevada. I've got an APB out on him and his car." He smirked at Grissom. "Think you've got enough to bring him in now?"

Smiling as well, Grissom turned to Nick. "Alright, there you go. But I need you to find something stronger to tie Vincent to this crime."

Nick just nodded, already pulling out his cell phone. He dialed Sara's number. "Hey, Sara, it's Nick. I need you to do me a favor. Call Cath and Warrick and tell them to get over here ASAP. I need to know everything there is to know about Vincent G. Doziglia: who he's sleeping with, where his family is, his favorite restaurant, what color underwear he wears, everything. Also, find me all records for a Vincento G. Doziglia. Thanks, Sara. I'll be over shortly to give you a hand." He hung up, grinning broadly. "Excellent. This is great. I gotta go tell Greg; he's gonna be so excited."

He started to leave, but Grissom stopped him. "Nicky, don't you think it's a little early to be celebrating?"

Nick met his eyes. "Maybe," he said quietly, "but there's hope now, and that's cause enough for celebration."