I am not really gonna write much from Nick's POV, so...yeah. Jus sayin. :) R&R please!
[Las Vegas, Nevada]
[Nick Stokes' POV]
"Skye!" I said, seeing my petite cousin's dark hair, her now tan face, and the most familiar thing: her confused face. Eyes darting about, slightly wider than usual and her biting her pink lip.
She lugged her neon blue suitcase towards the exit of the airport and not caring about people, I stood on a chair and yelled her name. Several times, and each time, louder. "Skye Stokes!"
She finally turned around, seeing my wave my arms in the air and grinned. A huge grin lit her face and she left her luggage at the door, running to me, tackling me with a bear hug. "Nicky!"
"Hey cousin! Welcome to Vegas!" I said, cheerfully.
Skye smiled. "Hi Nick."
"Still got that Texan accent."
"Unfortunately." Skye laughed. "With a hint of Virginia, plus a good bit of Miami."
"You look it. What did they do to you?!" I said, eyeing my baby cousin.
She was tan, her once pale skin a golden color; she had the same straight almost black hair, long, to the bottom of her ribcage; her blue eyes shone, sparkled and popped against her tan skin.
Skye was a petite girl that was fit and did rough things. Instead of becoming a cheerleader, she was a softball player, a go-kart racer, and rode horses in college.
She looked more than prepared for now than she was last time she visited. Packed jeans, hoodies, long-sleeved t-shirts since it was cold leaving Virginia in November and landing in hot Nevada.
This time she wore black low top converse with a black sundress and white denim jacket over it.
She slipped on sunglasses as she pulled her suitcase outside the airport. Hot air hit us, but I was used to it.
I looked at Skye who made a face but seemed to have no other effect. "How hot is it?"
"80 degrees. The sun's setting, it'll get cooler."
"Yeah. Humidity?"
"I think 11%."
"Ah. It's 60% in Miami."
"Ugh. I don't like Miami air. It's like breathing in water." I said.
"How do you live here? It's so dry and…bone dry." Skye said, as we reached the car. "And Nicky, really? Ain't this a little too big for just one guy?" She questioned, looking at the Denali.
"It's LVPD's." I said, throwing her suitcase in the backseat, getting in and starting it up.
She looked around, looking a little out of her element. "We have Hummers."
"Hummers, gas guzzling silver cubes." I said.
She laughed, her laugh light and airy. "Yeah. But the Denali isn't any better only it's a black rectangle."
"You've got a point." I said and pulled out of the parking lot and got onto the freeway.
Skye manned the radio, searching the stations, unfamiliar with the stations here. Finally she left it on a country station that I liked and we both belted out songs as I drove.
"So how was your flight?" I asked in-between songs.
"You know how God's gonna come one day and take the good ones to Heaven on like, chariots? Well, I felt like this was how God was gonna send all the bad ones to Hell. On. That. Flight."
I laughed. "Skye, really."
"No, Nick! I'm serious! This fat dude was eating all over me and he took ate my chips when he thought I was asleep. My seat couldn't recline back, it was stuck; and this obnoxious kid kept kicking the back of my seat!" Skye exclaimed, her aqua blue eyes wide.
I smiled at the eyes, she did that when she was confused, surprised, or had any strong emotion. I guessed that the memory of the 5 hour flight was making her frustrated.
Nevertheless, I just laughed at her. "Sucks for you then."
"Shut up, Nicky." She changed the station and turned the volume up on some ugly-sounding death-metal rock crap.
"What is this?" I made a face as a guy began to scream the lyrics.
"Marilyn Manson."
That screaming sounded familiar.
Skye started to air-drum and it hit me. I remembered why and how it was familiar.
"Greg!"
Skye stopped. "What?"
"Greg listens to that crap. I mean music. No never mind. Crap. It's crap."
"Who's Greg?"
"Remember I told you that story of that one guy who was looking at his date's DNA?" I asked.
"Yes." She said carefully.
"That's Greg. He's the labrat you're helping to replace. His sister Erica is filling the spot but we are a little overwhelmed in the lab with a labrat going to the day shift. But Greg likes this junk." I said.
Skye changed the station to a country station. "Oh ok."
"I've forgotten what you do in the lab. Erica does DNA, I'm not sure what you can do."
"Everything. I've learned how to do everything in Houston, Quantico and Miami. Everything except video/audio stuff and tox. That I can't do."
"All right." I said, slightly impressed.
The sun had set, and the lights of Vegas looked great.
"Wow. Vegas is beautiful at night." Skye looked out the window at the lights of The Strip.
I thought of the murders, homicides, break-ins, the things I saw on graveyard. "Ha!" I said then I looked at Skye's confused face and smiled. "Sorry. I forgot you're technically a tourist."
"I know. I'll get used to it and be just as unimpressed as it like you are eventually." She smiled.
"Yup." I said and drove to the crime lab. "Skye, I'm sorry. But I'm late for my shift. I had planned on dropping you off at my place before I went to work but traffic getting to the airport was heavy and I'm late now."
"Ok, that's fine. I'd rather see what I'm supposed to do now instead of wander around your place, bored."
"All right." I said, and parked in my spot. We entered the building, and we entered the break room. As soon as we did, Grissom walked in.
"Nick, you're 30 minutes late." Grissom looked at me then at Skye. "Hello…"
"Skye Stokes." She said, facing him and shook his hand confidently, giving him that winning smile of hers. "You must be Mr. Grissom."
"Grissom will do." He smiled. "Nice to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is mine."
"She's why I'm late. Traffic at the airport was heavy and I had to pick her up." I said.
"Ok. Nick, db at the alley behind the Wynn hotel/casino. You and Warrick will go." Grissom handed me the slip.
"What about Skye?"
"Nick, Griss; I--oh heyy." I heard a familiar voice say.
I turned to see Greg Sanders at the door, catching a glimpse of Skye.
"That a suspect? Can I take her DNA?" He asked hopefully.
I felt like smacking him. Then I looked at Grissom's face and wanted to laugh.
"No, Greg. This is Skye Stokes, Nick's cousin. She will be joining us in the lab. She is one of the best out there, worked at Houston, Quanticowith the FBI, and she left her job as head in the lab in Miami, Florida to come work here. She is not a suspect, so the answer to your second question is no, you cannot take her DNA." Grissom said, not amused.
Skye looked at him, amused, as Greg blushed.
I grinned. Greg's face was the expression of "putting your foot in your mouth."
Then finally the both of us couldn't hold in our snickers and we laughed a bit.
"I feel like a retard now." Greg said, biting his lip.
Grissom looked like he wanted to agree. But stayed quiet.
"I would too if I said that." Skye grinned, her Southern accent noticeable. Greg looked miserable, already made a bad impression but Skye just went to him. "But hey, it's fine. Gave me a good laugh in this long day. I needed it."
Greg's eyes lit up with her words. "Ok." He managed and I tried not to laugh at his stammering in the presence of a pretty girl.
Skye went back to the table and picked up her bag and took out a file, handing it to Grissom. "Here's some paperwork that I filled out on the plane so I can start to work here. I didn't want to waste time doing paperwork when I should be learning the ropes around here."
Grissom took it, impressed. "Thank you, Skye. This makes my job a lot easier."
"Griss, what will we do with Skye? I've got to get to the crime scene."
"I can show her around til your shift's over, Nick." Greg said and I spotted his sparkling brown eyes scan, no, check out my baby cousin's profile.
I casually stepped into his line of sight, blocking Greg from Skye who didn't notice the move. "I don't know, Greg. You see, she's Texan and kinda crazy."
"Excuse me?!" Skye screeched.
"You're excused." I told her.
"Nick, get to that scene now. Skye, Greg will show you around and he'll show you to your lab. You can start on some evidence if you like, it's up to you completely. I'm sure Greg will talk about everything at least once. Good luck, Skye." He said in a no-nonsense voice and left the room.
Greg looked pleased, and I turned to Skye who was eyeing Greg back, her keen blue eyes scanning him up and down. "Behave."
She smiled, looking at Greg. "I'm in a destructive mood. Let's blow something up!"
"We can do that." Greg grinned.
"Sk--"
Grissom looked at me. "Now, Nick!"
I reluctantly left the break room. "Fine, but when you get back and half the building's gone; don't blame me cuz I told you so." I said, then left.
[*]
