Chapter Four: The Wedding Waltz

Greg tried to talk to Nick for the rest of his shift, but the Texan always found reasons to avoid him. Eventually, Greg gave up and acknowledged that Nick needed space. He just hoped that was all Nick needed. He wrapped his arms around himself and beneath his blazer as he walked down the hall with his eyes cast low. Someone else stopped right in front of him. He looked up to see Wendy, her mouth partially open as she blinked at Greg.

Greg shifted, then frowned, averting his gaze. "Um… how are you doing?"

"I'm OK," she replied, simply.

"Right," Greg said, nodding. "I mean, good."

"Maybe we shouldn't have come in together," Wendy said slowly. "I mean, it kind of sends the wrong message."

"It seemed practical at the time," Greg murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We were hung over at the time," Wendy pointed out. "And I didn't feel much like driving."

"So, next time, separate cars," Greg noted. "Got it."

"You think there's going to be a next time?" Wendy hissed, looking around as if someone might have heard him.

Greg sighed. "No," he said. "Sorry. I'm just tired. Long day."

She nodded, understanding. "Did you talk to Nick?"

Greg winced at his name. "In a manner of speaking…"

"What'd he say?"

"That he can't talk to me," Greg told her with a regretful sigh.

Wendy's face fell. "Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry!" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Greg smiled, then saw Hodges looking at them from the trace lab. Their eyes met, and Hodges looked sharply away and busied himself in the lab. Greg took Wendy's hand and lifted it from his shoulder. She withdrew. "Yeah, maybe physical contact is not such a good idea right now."

She nodded. "Right. Of course." She tucked her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. "Sorry."

Greg rubbed his eyes with his hands. "Wendy, all we ever are is sorry. I'm already tired of it."

"Well, what did you expect?" Wendy asked.

"I thought he'd… rejected me," Greg said, with a shrug. "Turns out, I just talked myself into thinking he'd rejected me. He hadn't, at all. If I'd just shut my mouth yesterday and let him talk, maybe…"

"There it is," Wendy said.

He looked at her. "There what is?"

She nodded, knowingly. "The regret. You said it wasn't there, but there it is."

"I told you," Greg insisted. "Any other time or situation, just… not after I confessed my love to someone else. That's all. It's my fault, Wendy. I'm sorry I got you involved in this. When Nick lets me talk to him, I'll assure him that you were just…"

"An innocent victim?" Wendy asked. "I was a willing participant in this travesty, and I'll take full responsibility for my actions. Don't you dare tell Nick it wasn't my fault. I kissed you, remember?" She actually pushed his shoulder. "Innocent blonde coed?"

Greg looked down and laughed, then looked up at her. "Fair enough."

Wendy held up some results. "Well, um, I should be getting these to Ray…"

"Yeah, I have to… do something too," Greg said, realizing it sounded stupid after he said it. But it made Wendy smile.

"Things will work out," she assured him. "You'll see."

Greg ducked his head as he passed her and checked his watch. His shift was about over, and he'd done everything he could for his cases. He passed Catherine's office and hesitated as he saw Nick talking to her. He looked angry. He shook his hand at her, then walked away from her desk. Catherine rose to her feet and gestured at a chair by her desk. Nick didn't turn around. He said something else, then turned his head over his shoulder and caught Greg watching. Greg took off briskly, imagining all of the things Nick was telling Catherine.

He swung around the corner of the locker room, deciding the head home early. He'd make up some excuse to Catherine about feeling unwell, which wouldn't be too hard, considering he was still feeling some of the effects of his hangover. He had a feeling the headache would never go away. It seemed like a constant reminder of what he'd done. As far as he was concerned, he deserved to live with it forever.

Nick walked into Catherine's office and slammed the door behind him. She looked up with wide, irritated eyes, startled by the noise it had made.

"I could have you fired for breaking that door," Catherine said.

"No, you couldn't," Nick returned, clearly not in the mood. He strode over to her desk and laid his fist on the table. Catherine cocked an eyebrow. "I want a transfer."

"Oh, if it's a transfer you wanted, all you had to do was almost break the door," Catherine replied.

"I'm serious," Nick said.

"No, you're not," Catherine replied. "No one who has worked on this shift, with this team, for as long as you have just walks in here with no explanation or justification, and demands a transfer. It's absurd, it's obnoxious, and I have a lot of work to do. So, there's the door," she raised a finger at it. "You should know. It's that thing you beat up to get in here."

"I have justification," Nick insisted.

"Oh?" Catherine intoned, leaning back in her chair. "Well, then, please. Do tell."

Nick opened his mouth, all the ready to rant on about whatever justification he claimed to have, then closed it just as quickly. "OK, I don't want to talk about it, but I do have it. Please, can I get a transfer?"

Now, Catherine was beginning to cross the line between irked and concerned. She leaned forward in her chair again, laying her forearms on her desk and clasping her hands together. "Nick, did something happen?"

"Yes," Nick said. "And I'd rather not talk about it. I was thinking swing would be good. I like Ronnie and their new supervisor, and I don't think I'd be able to handle the snobs on dayshift."

"You can't request a transfer and give no reason," Catherine said. "I mean, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine, but you have to list something in the official documents, otherwise they'll think you're just being flakey."

"Fine," Nick said. "Irreconcilable differences."

"With whom?"

"Members of this team."

"Differences over what, exactly?"

"The meaning of love and friendship," Nick told her, icily.

One eye squinted at him as she tried to work out the pieces of this puzzle and somehow squish them together. Nick got on well with everyone on the team. In fact, she struggled to think of a person who was more amiable and easier to work with than Nick Stokes. Even Ray, introverted though he was, had a very good relationship with Nick. She cared for everyone on her team, but she wasn't equally close to every single one of them like Nick was. She doubted anyone had the knowledge and trust in all of his team members like Nick did. For him to cite irreconcilable differences was like Superman saying he couldn't fly anymore.

"Members plural?" Catherine probed.

Nick shrugged. "Member, I guess."

Catherine turned back to her paperwork and filled out the date before saying, "Request denied."

"What?"

"You heard me," Catherine said, looking up sharply, daring him with her eyes to press the matter.

He did. "You can't just flat out refuse without even filing the paperwork!"

"Yes, I can," Catherine said. "And if I can avoid needless paperwork, I will. Look, whatever is going on between you and whoever else on this team – and God help them, by the way, if you're mad at them – you will work it out eventually because we always do, Nick."

Nick took three steps and wagged a finger at her. "You have no idea the kind of—"

Catherine offered her hands to him, palm up. "So tell me then! I won't transfer you based on some vague dust up you had with someone you won't even name. If it's bad enough, file a complaint against them."

"He didn't do anything wrong professionally," Nick argued.

"So at least I know it's not Sara," Catherine said. "Good, because frankly I was a little worried."

"Why would it be Sara?" Nick asked, so shocked by the notion that he actually forgot his anger for a moment.

Catherine shrugged. "I don't know. I was just thinking, out of everyone, she challenges you the most. She challenges everyone, it's what she does. Kinda what makes her a good CSI, thinking of things from different perspectives. It's also what makes her a little annoying."

"No, it's not Sara," Nick admitted. "But it doesn't matter who it is. Can I just have the paperwork? I'll fill it out myself." He reached out at her across the desk.

But she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't do that Nick."

He growled in frustration and spun around, pacing away from the desk. "Why not?" he exclaimed.

Catherine leapt to her feet. "Because I need you, Nicky! I need you on this team, and I need you as my second in command. Now come back, have a seat. Tell me, what's going on with you, and we can work this out together."

But Nick shook his head, refusing to turn to face her again. "It's complicated. I don't even—" He stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Greg's profile in the hallway outside, his head turned as he watched their conversation. Greg immediately started walking briskly down the hall again.

Catherine saw Nick's hesitation and also followed Greg's retreat. "What happened with you and Greg?" she asked quietly.

Nick closed his eyes and sighed. "Never mind. I withdraw the request."

And with that, he was gone, leaving a baffled Catherine in his wake.

The week went on. Cases continued. Greg wasn't sure why, but he wasn't being partnered with Nick on any new incoming cases, which was unusual. Although, it did mean he got to do a lot more solos, and spend more time with Sara and Ray, which he appreciated. But he missed his old friend, and had a strange feeling that Nick had complained to Catherine about him. When he caught her eye in the hallway, she had that scathing, accusatory look, like she knew every horrible thing that he had done and she blamed him for it. Of course, Greg told himself that it might just have been his imagination. Catherine certainly wasn't treating him any differently than she had before. Or at least, Greg hadn't thought she was until she stopped him in the hall.

"Hey…" she said, her voice sounding a little too sympathetic.

Greg looked around, making sure she was addressing him. "Hey…?" he replied, slowly.

"How's your case load?" she asked.

Greg looked at the three files in his hand. "Not bad. Ready to hand one off actually, and then I'll just be down to two."

"Good, good," she said, nodding. "Listen, I don't want to overburden you. I know something's been going on with you, and I just wanted you to know that you can tell me about it. If it's really interfering with your work, you should tell me about it."

"What are you talking about? I'm fine," Greg lied, forcing a smile.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Are you and Nick OK?"

"Me and Nick?" Greg laughed. "We're getting breakfast after shift, actually." He threw his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the theoretical breakfast place. "Hey, you wanna come?"

She sighed. "I'd love to, but… paperwork."

"Maybe next time," Greg said, inwardly sighing with relief that she hadn't called his bluff.

"I'm glad you worked things out," Catherine said with a smile. "He was pretty worked up when he came into my office a couple days ago requesting a transfer."

Greg went pale. "He was that upset? He wanted a transfer?"

"Yeah, but I nixed that plan," Catherine assured him. "Obviously. He didn't tell you this?"

"Oh!" Greg said. "Yeah, you know, I think he did… probably. It's something we would have talked about when we… talked about stuff. Right?"

He was beginning to lose her. He could tell by the way her brow knit together at his peculiar intonations. "Right…" she said. "Anyways. Whatever it was, I'm glad it's over, and we can move on with our lives. Next time, either keep it out of work or tell me about it, OK? None of that… ambivalent in between crap. One or the other."

"Will do," Greg assured her, and she smiled as she took off. Greg's stomach lurched. He hated lying to Catherine, but she was right. If this did start interfering with their work, they'd have to tell her, and the last thing he wanted was more people knowing how awful a person he really was. It was bad enough that the whole lab knew he'd slept with Wendy by this point, but it would be worse if they ever found out he'd did it after he'd told Nick he loved him.

But maybe what he'd said to Catherine didn't even have to be a lie. He had stayed away from Nick for two days now. Surely that was enough time for wounds to heal enough to talk about what was happening. So Greg took off down the hall in search of Nick. As he looked, he passed the DNA lab, where Wendy and Mandy were talking. He wasn't sure why, but he slowed to a stop, curious about what the women were doing.

Wendy was holding her hair up with her hands as she spoke to Mandy, and then let it fall back onto her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and she showed the backs of her hands with fingers spread to her friend, speaking rapidly. Greg realized she wasn't wearing her trademark ponytail, which was unusual. He admired the way her sienna curls bounced on her shoulders. Wendy waved a hand in front of her chest in circles, and Greg found his eyes lingering in that area long after her hand had moved on to other gestures. His mind flashed with memories of heavy breathing and sweat and the vanilla warmth of someone who finally understood— And then, he caught himself.

"Oh no…" he groaned, then quickly took off down the hall, ducking into the bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water, then stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking deep breaths. "What am I going to do?" he whispered to his reflection. But the man in the mirror looked just as terrified as Greg felt and offered no answer to his question.

Wendy walked right up to Hodges' counter. He glanced at her, then looked sharply away.

"Do you need something?" he asked, uncharacteristically timid.

She nodded. "I was wondering if you'd do me a favor. I got invited to a wedding next weekend. A friend from college. I don't actually know her that well, but—"

"Is there a point to this?" Hodges interrupted.

She scowled. "Yeah. I'm getting to it. I put down plus one on the RSVP. I think I did it by accident. Anyway, she's expecting me to bring a date."

"I thought we weren't dating," Hodges said.

"We've never been on a date, because every time I ask, you shoot me down," Wendy replied.

"I know you slept with Greg Sanders," Hodges said.

"That's not the point."

"It is the point, Wendy," Hodges groaned. "I can't… I can't look at you without seeing him. It's disgusting."

"That's a no then?" Wendy asked, tapping her hand against her thigh, clearly annoyed.

"So are you over him now, too?" Hodges returned. "The way you got over me days after you kissed me?"

"That's not fair," Wendy retorted. "I only kissed you because…"

"Because why, Wendy?" Hodges prompted. "What exactly did you want me to do with that? Every time I tried to talk to you about it, you changed the subject, and then you just jump into bed with Greg Sanders, of all people?"

"It wasn't like that, all right?" Wendy exclaimed. "Look, I was trying to ask you out. Again!"

"Why don't you ask Greg?" Hodges asked. "Or are you avoiding him now, like you avoided me after you kissed me?"

"Stop comparing yourself to him," Wendy groaned. "Look, what happened… happened. But can't we just move on?"

"Seems that's all you do is move on from one guy to the next," Hodges mumbled.

"At least I'm trying here," Wendy snarled.

"Try harder," Hodges challenged.

"You're acting like a child."

"You're acting like a bitch."

"You know what?" Wendy cried. "I'm sorry I asked. I don't know why I came here. I don't even know why I used to like you, Hodges, all you do is make me crazy!" And with one final frustrated growl, she spun on her heel and left.

Still grumbling, Wendy marched down the hall and into the break room, where she was happy to see a fresh pot of coffee warming. She took the pot and poured herself a mug, then leaned on the counter by the pot, holding the mug in both hands as her blood continued to boil. She'd taken a few sips when Greg came in and saw her. He hesitated, but only for a moment, before he smiled and headed to the coffee pot.

"Good, it's done," he said, pouring himself a mug.

"You made this?" Wendy asked.

"Hell yeah I did," Greg said. "I'm the only one that ever thinks to brew a new pot. Everyone else just expects that someone else will do it."

"Um, Greg?" Wendy said. "That someone else is you."

"Shut up," he muttered, also leaning against the counter, mirroring Wendy. "I know." He took a sip, and his face tinged slightly pink as he looked at her. "Your, uh, hair looks nice today."

She smiled, the compliment warming her better than the coffee. "Thanks." She thought about what Hodges had said. He had practically dared her to ask Greg to the wedding. "Hey… Greg?"

"Mm?"

"Do you want to go to a wedding?"

"So long as it's not my wedding," he said with a smirk.

She laughed, and cringed when it sounded a little too artificial. "Yeah, it's a friend from college. I said I'd have a plus one. I don't have a plus one. I'll be that girl who said she was bringing someone and turns up alone. Don't let me be that girl, Greg."

Greg took another long sip of his coffee, then lowered it again. He sighed. "I want to say yes."

"So say yes."

"You know I can't."

"Why can't you do what you want to do?"

"Because of Nick," Greg said. "And because… even though I know I'm in love with him, I…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I think I might have feelings for you, too."

And when he said the words out loud, something bubbled inside of Wendy like fresh champagne. But she said nothing. She only shrugged, modestly, trying to act like that didn't matter to her.

Greg sighed. "I know you probably would just want to go as friends. But I'm worried if I see you in some… beautiful dress… I won't be able to be a gentleman."

"I'm not asking you to be a gentleman," Wendy said. "I'm asking you to be my date."

"Am I the first person you asked?"

Wendy chewed on her bottom lip. "No."

"And why did you ask Hodges before me?" Greg pressed, knowing exactly who her first choice had been.

She sighed. "Because I'm insane?"

"You're cute when you're confused," Greg said with a sad smile. Then he frowned, almost wincing. "And I hate that about you."

"You really know how to give a compliment, don't you?"

He opened his mouth to try and explain when Ray Langston walked into the break room and right between them as he took the coffee pot. It reminded Greg how public the room was, and this was a very private conversation. His heart lurched to think how much worse his relationship with Nick could have gotten if the Texan had walked in instead of Ray.

Ray, seeming to realize that he had interrupted something, looked from Wendy to Greg. "Problem?"

"Wendy and I were just discussing a case," Greg said.

Langston went over to the table with his coffee before half-sitting on it and blinking at the pair of them. "Difficult?"

"Complicated," Wendy replied. "Lots of DNA in this one. Four different contributors."

Greg frowned at her, unsure of what she was doing.

"Four?" Langston said, seeming impressed. "What were these people doing at this crime scene?"

"That's what we were trying to figure out," Wendy explained. "It's clear our first person of interest had sex with the second. That we know. But after that, it just gets messy."

"Messier than sex and murder?" Langston asked.

"It hasn't come to murder yet," Wendy said with a wink at Greg.

"Yeah, this conversation is over," Greg decided, taking his coffee to the door in one swift motion. "Wendy, if you have any… breakthroughs on the case, let me know."

"Ball's in your court, Sanders," Wendy reminded him. "I'm waiting on you to tell me how the story ends."

Greg groaned as he left. It was turning into a very long day.