CSI: Ghost: Chapter 5

A/N: Enjoy! And don't forget to review!

Greg pulled his small silver Jetta into the driveway and parked next to Nick's truck. He took a deep breath, glad to have had the time to clear his head before heading back to work. Heading back to bed was more like it, in reality. He was tired, having gotten up in the middle of the day when he should have been sound asleep.

But upon entering the house he knew something was wrong. The mail he'd brought in earlier was still sitting on the kitchen table. No dishes had been disturbed. Nothing had changed since he'd left except that the lights had been turned on.

"Nick?" he called into the empty house. "Nicky?"

The house was silent.

Worry began to grip him. Nick was never one to sleep in. He was always up and dressed early so he wouldn't be late to work. So, what had happened today? Was he not feeling well? Or was there someone else there? Perhaps preventing him from calling out? He slowly walked towards the bedroom, wondering why he was so afraid of what he'd find. And then it hit him. They'd been busy for hours earlier that day, more so than usual. He'd wanted to make sure everything was still cool between them after everything he'd done to the poor man at work. Things had gotten hot and heavy. It was no wonder Nick was still sound asleep in bed. Greg grinned at the thought as he rounded the corner of the doorway. When he finally saw Nick he stopped in his tracks, the smile fading fast from his lips.

Nick was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, clutching a pillow as tight as was humanly possible, while staring straight ahead, apparently unaware of his husband's presence. "Nicky? What's wrong? Are you ok?" Greg asked, falling to his knees in front of his husband.

Slowly, Nick raised his head and his eyes met Greg's. He relaxed instantly but not completely.

"Greg? Where were you? Oh my God, I was so scared, I thought something had happened! You always leave a note. And there wasn't one. I tried to call you. But you didn't take your phone. You scared me, G."

"Oh, Nicky, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" Greg took the pillow from Nick and sat down beside him, wrapping his arms around him. "I didn't mean to forget the note, I swear. I just went out for a drive to clear my head, that's all."

"Clear your head from what? You were gone for so long."

Greg's heart broke at the crack in Nick's voice. He was a wreck and all because he'd forgotten to leave him a note.

"There's just been a lot of things on my mind. But I'm ok. You don't have to worry about anything. I'm sorry I made you worry about me. I really didn't mean to. I'll try my hardest not to forget the note again. I promise."

When Nick didn't move, or look at him, or seem to be breathing Greg bumped his nose into his husband's cheek. "Hey you, it's ok."

Nick looked over at him, noticing how he moved the tip of his nose up and down like a bunny rabbit. He cracked a small smile.

"I'm sorry I fell apart. I didn't really mean to. I'm a CSI, I shouldn't have. But I... I guess I froze, didn't know what to do."

Greg chuckled a little. "Sounds like my first time out in the field. But I survived. Right?"

"Yeah. No, I'm good. I think. I think I'll be alright. Now that you're here. I can't believe I freaked like that."

"It's entirely understandable, honey. We just got scared when the routine was broken, that's all."

"We?"

Greg burrowed his face in Nick's neck for comfort, remembering his own worried thoughts.

"You never sleep in. You're always up and about doing things by this time. And when I came home, the lights were on, but nothing else had changed. I began to think the worst. You scared me probably just as much as I scared you. I guess that makes us even."

Nick snorted. "We make a great pair. Just look at us. We can go to work and see the worst and we're just fine. But come home and all the stupid little stuff scares us. I can't believe we both freaked out like that."

"As long as we don't tell anyone at work, they'll all still think we're heros for the wonderful crime solving that we do."

"Right."

There was a sudden loud grumbling that took away the quiet of the house. Greg jumped back in feigned surprise.

"Nicky! My gosh, one would think you hadn't eaten in a month!"

"I'm sorry for that too."

"Stop apologizing, and let's find you some food. I'm hungry too."

Greg moved to face Nick again, moving his nose up and down for a moment before leaning in and planting a solid kiss on his lips.

"Mmmm, you taste like spearmint gum," Nick mumbled into Greg's mouth. "I love spearmint gum."

"I know."

Nick walked into the layout room later that night feeling much better since Greg had come home. He wore a bright smile and no one would ever suspect that his night had started off so horribly wrong.

"Brass, what are you doing here?" he asked, before he saw a second detective standing over the lighted table, looking over the evidence he and Greg had pulled from their latest case.

"I heard Johnny Winters got capped, wish I'd been there to see that! Well, anyway, I figured you'd want to know who he possibly had a beef with. He's been in and out of jail many times, got his rap sheet right here. So, I called a guy I knew who's been watching Winters for a few years."

He nodded toward the detective who finally turned around to greet Nick.

"Ah, Detective Omar from the LAPD. Nice to see you again."

Nick shook his hand.

"Yes, same here. It's been awhile since our last case together. Say, where's Greg? I haven't seen him around. I figured you two would be working together."

"He's in having a talk with the boss at the moment."

"Ah. You know Gil did tell me back when we were working that last case together that you both were his best guys when you work together."

Brass chuckled. "Yeah, they're our dynamic duo, alright. They put the most cases to bed around here, I think."

"Yeah, I guess we do own the bragging rights to that." Nick grinned, knowing Greg would love to hear this.

"Well, boys, I've got to go see Catherine and Warrick for a moment about their case, but Omar, when you're ready to leave, just give me a ring."

"Sure thing, Captain."

Brass started to leave the room but stopped when he got to the doorway.

"Oh, and um, Nicky... you might want to try a turtle neck for a few days."

Nick looked startled and felt the confusion welling up in his brain as he tried to process what he'd said. But it didn't seem to want to make any sense.

"Looks like Greg did a number on your neck since the last time I saw you," he clarified with a wink before leaving the room.

Nick blushed a deep shade of crimson in front of the LA detective, now feeling horribly mortified.

"Greg? Did he just say Greg? As in, the Greg you work with?"

"Um... yeah. Yeah, he did."

Nick consciously moved his hand to cover the mark his lover had placed on his neck not that long ago.

"Wow. You two were so professional I never knew a thing was going on. Unless, you weren't together back then?"

The CSI took in a huge breath of air and let it out.

"We've been married for five years," he clarified. "So, yes, we were together when we worked with you."

"No wonder you two work so well together."

The detective looked blown away by the news, but not disgusted by it at all. He was more surprised than anything.

"So, you have news for us about John Winters?" Nick asked, switching subjects as quickly as possible.

"Oh yes. I have to say I wasn't entirely shocked when I heard that he'd been killed almost in execution style."

"You weren't?"

"No. He had it coming to him. He used to run drugs to and from LA. Went to jail multiple times but it never seemed to do anything. Apparently he'd pissed off a lot of people in the business, so a lot of people could have wanted him dead."

"How'd he piss them off?"

"Oh, he'd forget a delivery. Or take the money and the drugs and run. Stupid stuff like that. He'd bring the cavalry with him all the time. He worked for a guy in Vegas, dealing stuff from LA. From what I've heard not too long ago he took the money and split with the drugs too. Hasn't been seen or heard from since. Until now. Guy's not happy about it."

"Who is it?"

"You ever heard of a guy who calls himself 'The Devil'?"

"Yeah I have. One of the biggest crime bosses we've got. Deals in everything."

"Well, I would talk to him, if I were you. He had the biggest hatred for Winters. And he's got the money and the capabilities to order a hit on this guy and clean it all up, sweep it all under the rug like it never happened."

"Yeah, but this Devil guy keeps his hands clean. I don't know how he does it, but whenever he's been in the spotlight before, he comes out clean."

"Oh, not this time. We'll get him somehow. It's gotta be him."

"Alright, well, let me go find the other half of this dynamic duo and we can get on the road."

Greg left Grissom's office with the assignment slip in his hand and headed for the locker room. When he got there, he saw his locker open and someone was hurriedly looking through his things. But he knew he had no reason to panic even if the door was hiding most of the person. He grinned, realizing that sometimes, you knew someone so well you could tell who they were just by seeing the side view of their ass. Like a fingerprint.

"You going through my locker again, Stokes?" he asked, using the shortened form of their hyphenated last name that Nick used when at work.

Nick looked up when he heard the familiar voice and smiled.

"Yeah, actually I am. I need a..."

"It's down here," Greg said, before he'd even finished his sentence.

He pushed Nick out of the way and reached into a gym bag and pulled out a white turtle neck.

"I didn't have one and..."

"I know. I brought it with me wondering how long it would take you to figure it out," he snickered.

"Greg! You should have told me!"

Nick quickly changed shirts, checking himself in the magnetic mirror Greg had on the inside of his locker door, right above the picture of them on their wedding day, making sure the hickey was well covered.

"Why? Everyone around here knows we're together."

"Yeah, but not that detective from LA. And he's here. Just talked to him. And thanks to Brass, he ratted us out to him."

"Ah, you're making a big deal out of nothing. We're professional. We always keep our home life separate from our work life."

"I know. And he's cool with it. Was actually surprised cause he didn't suspect a thing when we worked together on that last case. Actually he said Griss told him we're his best team out of everyone else here."

"Sweet! I was wondering why he always pairs us up."

"Well, we're professional, like you said. I guess it counts for something. I get to see you all the time."

"Oh, speaking of working together, we've got another crime scene to process, just got it."

Greg waved the assignment slip in the air.

"Another one? But we're still working on the last one!"

"I know. But it's similar to the first one. And Warrick and Catherine are busy with a few cases of their own."

"Great. I was just about to go with Omar to talk to a suspect."

"Oh? Already? Who?"

"The biggest crime boss Vegas has, actually."

"Ooohh, The Devil? Wow. Be careful with him. I've heard nasty stories about him. And, I'd like you to come home to me in one piece. Ok?"

"Sure thing, bunny. You know I will. Nothing could keep me away from you."

"Good. Now go catch some bad guys."

Nick holstered his gun, gave Greg a quick peck on the lips and disappeared out the door moments later, leaving Greg to stare after him. He smiled at the new nickname he'd acquired so recently and he found himself beginning to like it. A lot. It was original. Not originating from his name or from some 1940's noir film. He was just a normal guy who had a loving husband who'd given him a zillion nicknames since they'd been friends before they'd gotten married.

And he realized the lines were blurring themselves again. Remembering the kiss and the sweet nickname, he felt like he'd been transported back to a time when he and Nick had first fallen in love with each other and admitted it out loud. They couldn't stay away from each other for longer than an hour at a time it seemed. But he'd needed to have boundaries. He knew they had to keep work and home separate if they were going to work out as a couple and as a CSI team.

And for five years, the boundaries hardly ever blurred. Everything worked out well. Even though they were married, it was true, Grissom always picked them to work together when it was possible. And anyone who worked with them but didn't know them personally never suspected they were together when they were in the field. They'd never had a courtroom drama about tainted crime scenes. So far, everything was separate, and working out well.

Greg sighed. He didn't need to worry over trivial things like a nickname and a small kiss shared in the locker room. No one else had seen it. Their professionalism was still intact. And besides, he'd spent enough time thinking about their work lives during his long drive earlier. He had a crime scene to get to.