Disclaimer: Rights of characters and show and stuff all to... whoever they belong to. I only own the plot.
Chapter Three
By the time Nick had pieced together the rest of the door and taken a partial shoe print, he was exhausted, and only 25 minutes away from ending shift. He glanced at the clock for the third time this hour and shook his head.
He was about to run the shoe print when his pager beeped. He looked down, smiled a little, and rushed to Trace. "What have you got for me, Hodges?"
"It wouldn't be very kind of me to divulge this sort of privileged information without your partner here, now would it?"
Nick groaned, and called Warrick. "Hey man, Hodges has our trace."
"I know, I'm on my way, buddy." Nick hung up. No use in wasting minutes on waiting a couple of minutes.
Warrick strode in a full two minutes later. "Hodges, tell me something good."
"Alright," he said. "But I'd like you to know that I finished way in advance of Sanders. All he has to do is run DNA, but I have to do research, which takes an irreplaceable amount of time away from me."
"Hodges," warned Nick, "Get on with it already."
"Alright. Your mystery fabric is from a glove. A man's glove, with finger holes."
"Like the kind from a golf course?" inquired Warrick.
"No, more like the kind you use to move a wheel chair. And judging from the piece, I would say it's from just underneath the pinky finger, on the palm. I can't tell you what size though."
"Wait a minute," Nick said. "Are you telling me that one of the guys who robbed the jewelry store was in a wheelchair?"
"Well, he could just own a pair of those kinds of gloves," added Warrick. "Did you check for epithelial contributions on the inside?"
"I did, that's how I know they're wheelchair gloves. See, there's a soft, flexible material, like spandex, on the inside that wraps tightly around your fingers, and then the outside is sewn with leather, or imitation leather, and it gives you grip, to wheel around in."
"Could be how our killer cut himself," said Warrick.
"Yeah, but how come there were no prints at the scene then?"
"I don't know," interjected Hodges. "But the answer isn't going to be found in my lab."
Nick reluctantly retreated from devil's territory. "Has Greg run our DNA yet?"
"I don't know, but I went over those tapes with Archie, and I can definitely say neither of our attackers were in wheelchairs, nor had any reason to be. They both walked normally and they smashed jewelry cases with the butt of their guns. Not exactly wheelchair-worthy." Nick nodded thoughtfully and pressed the doors open to the DNA lab.
"Greggo, pal, my man," bribed Nick.
Greg looked up. "Sorry Nick. Grissom dumped a ton of semen samples and condoms on me. Lots of swabbed beer bottles, lots of condoms. I guess it was some sex party." Nick felt like pulling out his hair. "I'm already going to be doing overtime tonight as it is."
"It's all right," answered Warrick. "We know one of our attackers was about 6'1", and the other one was about 5'10". Archie calculated it from the video based on the height of the counters."
"Right, and we still got that bullet with Bobby."
"Yeah, I checked with him, and he's working on it."
"So what you're sayin' is we got nothing more to do tonight?" clarified Nick. Warrick nodded and they both sulked to the locker room."
When he pulled into the parking lot of Pandora's, it was packed. Nick felt a wave of toe-curling nausea hit him at the thought of seeing her again. It took almost all of his strength to calmly get out of his car and head for the door. There was a line this time and when he reached the bouncer he demanded ten dollars instead of five.
Thoroughly annoyed, Nick took out his wallet, showed him ID, and paid the guy. The dance floor was packed, people lined both bars, and there were so many people on the benches that some were sitting in other's laps. He gave the room a cursory glance and forced his way to the first bar.
The room was dimly lit, but there were no lasers nor black lights nor people dressed in trench coats. When he got to the bar he looked around the room again, but he couldn't spot her. Too many damn people, he thought.
He finally caught the bartender's attention and he ordered a whiskey sour. When it was finally brought to him, at least five minutes later, he thanked her and downed it.
A round of applause began and he looked up to see some guys heading out on the stage. He smiled. Live music is Wednesday, he remembered. Wonder if Alyssa's working. Probably to busy to talk to me anyway.
"Hi, thank you for coming," said one guy into the speakers, "We are Slayed Scissors." And after a few practice notes, the music started again. So stupid, thought Nick. Slayed isn't even a word. And who wants to slay scissors anyway? Scissors tend to be the real slayers here.
The sound quality was terrible, and the music itself was worse than that. The background noise almost drowned out the music, people hollering and such. Nick shook his head and began his quest for the girl. He was definitely going to find out her name tonight. He waded through the crowd and out onto a small balcony. Finding that it was indeed outdoor smoking, he was about to turn around when he saw a familiar figure.
He walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. She wheeled around and grabbed his wrist.
"Whoa, whoa! Sara, it's just me. You know, Nick?"
Sara smiled and gave him a hug. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Looking for my mystery woman." He smiled. "Didn't know you smoked, Sara."
"I don't. But someone insisted that we take a cigarette break."
"Sara, don't be an ass," came a familiar voice. Nick looked to her side and saw none other than the one- and-only Greg Sanders with a lit cigarette in his hand.
"So what, are you guys," Nick left off.
"No, no, no," came the quick reply from Sara. "We're collectively moping." Nick laughed a little.
"So what, you're moping about Grissom and Greg's moping about you?" Greg burst into laughter and Sara gave him a nasty glare. "So you are moping about Grissom?" This only encouraged Greg's rampant laughter and Sara's eyes morphed turned into daggers.
"Well, Greg, why don't you tell him who you're moping about?" Greg frowned.
"Nick does not want to hear my problems."
"I disagree, Greggo." Nick tried to sound sympathetic. "Tell me what's going on, maybe I can help." This time, Sara burst into laughter and Greg took another drag from his cigarette.
"All right," he answered. "I've had a few too many anyway." He took a deep breath and studied Nick. "Only if the both of you promise to have another cigarette with me."
"I never took you for a chain smoker, G."
"Only when I'm nervous," he replied shakily. He took another long, slow drag. "There's this guy, and I'm partially in love with him." Sara burst into laughter again.
Nick stuttered a bit and looked at his eyes. Flashing one of his best grins, he cheekily added, "Still think you can help?" Nick swallowed a lump in his throat.
"Uh-umm… huh…umm…" Greg joined Sara in the raucous laughter. Obviously they've had a lot to drink.
"Didn't think so," came the quiet reply.
"You're gay?" Nick blurted it before he even noticed his mouth had moved.
"Yeah," answered Greg.
"So all that flirting with Sara wouldn't have paid off anyway?" Sara laughed all over again.
"Nick, seriously?" she asked. "He flirts with everyone, he changes his hair ever other month, it seems, and he dances around the lab." Nick nodded vaguely in understanding, and Greg put out his cigarette.
"Do you flirt with me?"
Greg cleared his throat and Sara laughed all over again. "This is priceless," she stuttered between fits of laughter.
"Yes," Greg said slowly. "But I flirt with everyone. Please don't let it change your opinion of me, Nick."
"Why would it? I mean, you still work hard, everyone knows that." Greg smiled a little. "Next time I need help figuring out a date, I'll just ask you." Sara giggled and Greg let another grin break through.
"So why is Sara here again?" he tried to clarify.
"Collective moping," they said together.
"So Sara's pining over Grissom and you're pining over…"
Greg cleared his throat. "He's one of my friends, but he doesn't work at the lab."
Nick nodded in acknowledgement and turned to go back inside. "You promised you'd stay for another cigarette."
Nick sighed. "I know, G, but I gotta find this girl. I'll sit through another one before I take off." Greg looked doubtful and Sara raised an eyebrow.
"I promise," he added. They smiled and Greg waved for him to go inside.
Nick did, and he surveyed the room, pushing and shoving his way in and out through the crowd, having no such luck. He went back to the bar and ordered a water. Two-fifty.
His thoughts shifted from the untraceable girl to Greg and Sara's predicament. He didn't want to end up in love with someone he could never have. That sounded like a terrible option. He was sure whoever Greg was in love with went for women, and Grissom-well, it's Grissom. Nick seriously doubted the man understood anything besides crime scenes and insects.
He was about to head out when he remembered that he owed Greg ten minutes of his time. He found him easily with the weird Mohawk thing he had going, and he was dancing with Sara. He nudged Greg to get his attention.
The pair faced him, both with smiles.
"I'm taking off!" he called over the music. They nodded and headed for the front door. Once outside, Nick noticed that neither of them was really walking in a straight line. Greg pulled out a cigarette and lit one.
"You guys need a lift home?" Sara shook her head. Greg laughed.
"I can take a cab," he answered.
"I think I better take you both home."
"Shotgun!" hollered Greg. Sara rolled her eyes.
"Good. Sara, you're coming too."
The trio stood in a calm comfortable silence for a few minutes before Greg blurted, "You can't go telling people at work. That could start rumors, and I don't wanna deal with Ecklie on this kinda crap. I mean, law enforcement and all…" Nick took a moment to figure out what he could possibly be rambling about through slurred words.
"That I'm gay." Nick nodded in understanding.
When Greg put his cigarette out, the three of them hopped in Nick's Tahoe.
"Sara, you first."
Sara led him to her house and Greg was silent. When he stopped in front of Sara's apartment building, he suddenly realized why it had been so quiet. Greg was asleep. Nick smiled a little.
"Sara, do you know where he lives?"
"He can stay on my couch. Let's get him inside. He's lucky I live on the first floor." Nick smiled. He unlatched the passenger door, and Greg would have fallen out had it not been for the seatbelt. Nick unbuckled him and smacked his cheek a few times.
"Greg? Greggo? C'mon, buddy, you gotta wake up for me." Greg moaned but stumbled out of the car.
They each took an arm and led him to the front door. After a moment of stumbling with her keys, the door swung open. Nick looked around casually. It was simple, and everything was pretty much as he expected it.
After Nick waved Greg over to the couch, Sara was at his side with aspirin and water. He somehow managed to take them, and then he fell off the couch. Nick turned to Sara with worry etched over his features.
"He'll be fine." Nick's worry didn't clear however, and he replied with a grunt. "We do this a couple times a month. Nick, I promise, he'll be fine." Nick nodded.
"See you at work." Sara groaned.
"Don't' remind me." Nick laughed. After a moment or so of looking over Greg, Sara led him to the door and said a quick thank you and goodnight.
Greg managed to lift his arm up; Nick assumed it was his goodbye and left.
Once he got home his mind drifted back to the girl. He had to see her again soon or he was going to burst. Eventually, he drifted into a fitful sleep.
A/N: Please review! Also. My beta is leaving town for a while at the end of May. Updates may be delayed, but I'll try my best to get as much as possible finished before she leaves. If there is a particularly long delay, I will do my darndest to make it worth the wait. Also!
Thank yous to: Janet1982 (for being my first fan), Seshat3 (for leaving me a nice review), Impure Desire (for being cool enough to review), and my super duper coolest ever beta. :)