CSI FIC: The Hills Are Bare (Gil/Nick)
Title: The Hills are Bare (5/5)
Author: Knightmusic
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Notes: So yeah, all that stuff I said about there being no sex in this story? Turns out I lied.
Disclaimer: Who would be fooled by this? I ask you? Who? Not mine!
Previous chapters can be found here.
5. Hope Renewed Cries Out, "Amen!"
His antlers were gone, which Gil was glad of. His hat was off to, he toyed with it in his hands, and his red-gold hair fell freely about his shoulders, catching the light so that it looked a bit like blazing fire. He seemed smaller now, subdued. Quiet.
Not traits that he’d demonstrated a capacity for at their first encounter.
“So,” Zee said, patting the ground next to him in an invitation. “Miss me?”
“Actually,” Gil said and groaned as he lowered himself to sit down, “I did.” It surprised him to realize how much truth there was to that. Zee was good company, with a kind of humor that Gil didn’t often encounter, but that wasn’t what Gil had missed. It would have been helpful, reassuring, rather, to have had his hearty companionship when facing down his future.
“Hmm,” Zee said, nodding slowly and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”
The sincerity behind those words gave Gil pause.
‘I’m sorry’ were common enough words to come by, especially in his field, and he’d run the gamut between apologies that were honestly meant and those that weren’t and everything in between. ‘Sorry’ and ‘sorrow’ were not the same thing.
And now here was Zee, a man -- an entity -- about which he knew absolutely nothing at all, sounding genuinely sorrowful.
“Do you do this a lot?” Gil asked.
“What?” Zee said, cracking one eye open then closing it again. “Host the supernatural version of ‘This is Your Life’?” He grinned. “That’s my gig.”
“Is it always like this?”
Zee shrugged. “Same basic formula.” He opened his eyes and started gesturing. “Past, present, future. Get to the end and hope they learn something.” Then he turned and winked at Gil. “But it’s not always like this. No.”
“How so?”
Zee’s eyes glinted suddenly with hidden knowledge. “It’s like this,” he said, turning to look Gil straight on. “I’m a guide. My job is to find people who are…lost, and show them the way back..” His grin tightened and he tapped the side of his nose. “Now here’s the secret; You remember I said you weren’t what I expected?” Gil nodded.
“Well, I wasn’t just talking about your choices in decor,” Zee said. “I don’t get people like you often. Because people like you don’t need to be shown the way.”
Insofar as Gil had been expecting anything, he hadn’t been expecting that at all. “Then what was…” He broke of, confused.
“I’m sorry to say,” Zee said, and again, Gil detected genuine regret, as though this were something that hurt him to say, “that your Nick suffers from a false hope.”
The mention of Nick made Gil’s throat constrict until it hurt.
“It’s not likely that he’ll ever meet another Gil Grissom in his lifetime,” Zee said, looking Gil in the eye. “Believe me, I’ve looked.”
Gil gaped. His throat was still too tight to speak.
“What people like you need,” Zee went on, tapping Gil on the chest, “you old souls, is a reminder. And here it is.” He leaned closer and Gil held his breath, unable to stop the terrible expectation filling his heart with hope.
“You,” Zee said, spacing each word, “are not alone.”
Gil pulled back, mouth open and eyes instantly brimming as the words hit him, a blow to his most unguarded and sensitive part of himself. How long had he waited to hear someone say those words to him? How long had he needed to know?
He lost track of himself then, of what he was doing, where he was and what nonsense he was muttering to himself. He realized, vaguely, that he was weeping into Zee’s shoulder, and that the spirit’s arms were around him.
He realized that he was crying, but he didn’t care. He’d spent years, his entire life, convinced that he would always be on the outside, looking in, but Zee was telling the truth now. Gil could feel it. Felt it and knew that it was true. It felt so good and so awful at the same time, like every frightened, lonely, hurting part of him, parts that had laid dormant and festering for years instead of healing, were being hauled awake and burned clean.
He’d never felt so safe.
After a long time, and more tears than he’d shed in his entire life, he pulled away. He felt the oddest sense of peace. His breathing calmed, and when Zee handed him a handkerchief, something occurred to him.
“How did you know what Nick said about me?”
Zee chuckled. “Well, that’s an easy one. I was there.”
Gil stared at him. “What?”
“Gil,” Zee said, fondly chaffing Gil’s shoulders. “When, exactly, is ‘The Future’? When is it ‘The Past’?”
Gil’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Only the present actually exists,” he said.
“Bingo.” Zee nodded. “Past is finite; future is infinite.” He held his hands out, palms up. “The present is eternal. And all you’ve got.”
Gil’s mouth curled up. “So those other two spirits were…” He gestured with one hand, inviting Zee to elaborate.
“Pale imitations of the real deal,” Zee said. “Shadows. Just like the things they showed you.” He leaned in, conspiritorialy. “Truth now; they seemed a little fakey, didn’t they?”
Gil chuckled. “You certainly are…vivid in comparison.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Zee said, and completely stunned Gil by giving him a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheek, complete with ’mm-ah!’ sound. “You’ll make me go all mushy.” Gil stared at him and Zee just laughed. Then he stood up, hauling Gil to his feet.
“Speaking of which,” Zee said, “what’re you going to do about Nick?”
Nick. Shit.
“I-” Gil said, suddenly feeling cold fear, panic, take hold.
And Zee laughed again. Heartily, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms around his stomach.
“Damn, you’re priceless,” he said, calming down and slinging an arm over Gil’s shoulder. “Okay, let me take the high beams off you. Maybe you won’t be so petrified.” Gil managed to fight off his initial reaction long enough to glare at Zee. It didn’t have the kind of effect on him that it did on a subordinate or a suspect, but it did at least make him stop laughing.
“Okay, here’s an easier question,” Zee said. “What do you want to do about Nick?”
Gil pursed his lips. “I want Nick to-”
“That’s not what I asked,” Zee said. Gil glared at him in irritation; what made him think he knew what he’d been about to say?
“Everyone in the known universe knows you want what’s best for Nick, want him to excel, to grow, to be happy,” Zee said. Gil scowled. Apparently he did know.
“And that’s great,” Zee continued. “We all know you’ve got his best interests at heart. Now, just for a moment, forget about that. I’m asking what you want. You can deal with hypothetical questions, right Gil-baby?”
He didn’t mind being called ‘Gil-baby.’ He minded the condesention. And he had a shrewd suspicion that Zee had put it there expressly to annoy him. That only annoyed him further. Then he sighed, the absurdity finally defeating him.
“I want to be with Nick,” Gil said.
“’To have and to hold, till death parts you’ and all that?” Zee said, lightly teasing. Gil gave him an unamused, long-suffering look.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he said. “I want to be happy.” He brought up a hand, quickly forestalling any interjections that Zee might have. “I want to make him happy.”
“Great,” Zee said, all teasing gone. “So go get it, then.”
Gil sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s not that easy,” he said. “Things with Nick are…they’ve always been complicated.”
“That’s love, Gil,” Zee said, gently.
Then he went very still, his eyes suddenly far away. "'For one human being to love another,'" he said, slowly and with quiet reverance, "'that is the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test of proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.'"
Gil stared at him. "Who...?" he asked. The words seemed almost familiar, like something he'd known a lifetime ago. Zee gave him a knowing look.
"You have to stop letting your past rule you," he said. "Roger never had as much power over you as his memory does, now."
Gil bristled. The remark was not unkindly made, but it chaffed a wound that had been open and sore for most of his life, unable to fully heal. “This isn’t about Roger,” he said. “I’ve put that behind me.”
"Actually," Zee said, "all I meant was that you stopped reading poetry after him. It’s not poor Rilke’s fault that you got hurt." Gil’s mouth dropped, and he suddenly felt that he might have given too much away. “But since you bring it up…”
Gil groaned.
“…I don’t think this is about Roger,” Zee finished. Gil looked at him, wondering where he was headed. “At least not entirely.” His face softened. “Gil,” he said, with the deepest sympathy, “you would have had enough to deal with in your life just being you. But you’ve been conditioned not to trust. Or get attached.”
Gil looked away. This was old, stale pain and he didn’t want to revisit it right now. But Zee wasn’t giving him that option.
“Your father, and what you saw that do to your mother, then Roger, hell, even Catherine’s gotten her licks in over the years, hasn’t she?”
Gil nodded. There didn’t seem to be much point in denying anything or trying to protect himself at this point. But he didn’t look up. Zee hummed in understanding.
“Those are hard lessons,” he said. “That’s the problem with listening to your heart; sometimes it’s wrong. And you get hurt. And then you don’t want to listen to it again. But I’ll tell you this much-” He paused and craned his head down until he found Gil’s eyes. Slowly, Gil raised his head to look at him.
“If you ever ignore your heart, I promise you that there’s no cure for that pain.”
Gil let the words sit in the air, repeating them in his head and weighing his options. The memory of standing under the tree with Nick, touching his face, hearing those impossible words, made his heart buckle. But nothing was certain, was it?
“Hey, you’ve even got an advantage,” Zee said. “You’ve already heard his thoughts on the subject.” Gil looked at him.
“But you said that was just a shadow,” he said.
“Your future? Yeah, it was,” Zee said. “But I could just as easily have shown you a future where went to the doctor regularily, beat that thing, and lived into old age. You and Nick built a great house in one of them, by the way. Huge thing with these gigantic windows. Bet they're hell to clean.” Gil sighed.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said, helplessly. Zee laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Gil, that’s the thing that matters the least,” he said. “Just trust me on this one. Do something. Anything. Even if it’s the wrong thing. No one expects perfect grace from you.” He gave Gil a knowing look. “How could they? They know you!”
The jibe stung, but in a way that Gil found wasn’t unpleasant. He took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right,” he said.
Zee actually whooped out loud with that. “Success!” he yelled, and snapped his fingers.
The world flickered, and sudden light made Gil squeeze his eyes shut in pain. When he opened them again, they were outside, standing in front of a house. It took Gil only a moment to recognize the house.
“What-”
“Just because you’re on the right track,” Zee said, pushing past him, “doesn’t mean I think I can leave you to your own devices just yet.” He rang the doorbell, waited a few seconds, then leaned on it. From inside came the muffled sound of someone running, and then a voice yelled,
“Coming!”
Gil whipped his head around to stare at Zee in furious horror. Zee smiled, showing all of his teeth.
“Good luck, Gil,” he said. “It’s been wild.” He flashed him a thumbs up, and vanished. Gil turned back to the door, and was nowhere near an idea as to what he was going to do or say, when it opened.
"Grissom?" Nick said, obvious surprise in his voice and on his face. He'd clearly just gotten out of bed; he was wearing sweats and his hair was rumpled. And he had a pillow mark across one cheek that Gil suddenly, and very badly, wanted to touch.
"What's up?" Nick asked, still hopelessly perplexed. But then, wonder of wonders, he smiled, and Gil knew he was undone. And what was more, he didn't care. In fact, he was glad of it.
Shadows, Gil thought, not real. His breath caught in his chest, and it seemed a wonder that he didn't just float away, given how light he suddenly felt. The Nick standing in front of him right now was not the hurting, lonely man that Gil had last seen, he wasn't even the brooding man Gil had seen in Catherine's kitchen. He was smiling, and Gil's task suddenly didn't seem so daunting anymore.
Nick stared at him for a second longer, and then comprehension snapped in his eyes. “Shit,” he said. “Grissom, I had my cell turned on, I swear.” Suddenly, Nick looked terribly nervous. And apologetic.
“I musta just slept through it. I’m real sorry,” Nick continued. “Just give me a sec, okay? I’ll be ready to go.” He turned from the door to go back inside, gesturing over his shoulder as he did that Gil should come in and wait. Not having the slightest idea what he should do, or even what was going on, Gil entered.
Nick had darted back down the hall and into his bedroom. “When did you call?” Nick shouted.
What? Gil thought. Nick had some seriously crossed wires, here. It almost seemed like he’d been expecting him.
And then Gil got it. Nick was off today, yes, but he was still on-call. And as far as he knew, the only reason that Gil would show up on his front door was if he needed Nick on a case and hadn’t been able to get in touch with him through normal means. Probably a big, messy, complicated case if it was worth hauling people in on a holiday. No wonder the poor guy looked so guilty; he thought he’d slept through an important page.
Nick came back into the living room, dressed now in jeans and a button-down blue shirt, carrying his phone in one hand and his socks in another. “Damn thing didn’t even register your calls,” Nick muttered, and tossed the phone down next to him. God, he was so cute when he got all wound up like this! He’d noticed it, and enjoyed it, before, but it apparently it had gone off his radar at some point.
“So what’ve we got?” Nick asked. “Something big?”
“Yeah,” Gil said, as dryly as he could manage. “I thought we could ride together to Catherine’s party. There’s not a lot of space in her driveway, so there’s no point in taking two cars.”
The most interesting array of emotions played out over Nick’s face, then. At first, he blinked in blank, stupid incomprehension, then Gil’s words seemed to register and his eyes went wide with shock. Gil could only guess that it was in response to his voiced intention to be seen at a social gathering. Then Nick’s eyes narrowed, and he aimed a light glare at Gil.
“You son of a bitch,” he said, but the corners of his lips were twitching. Really, Nick had a lamentable poker face. “You set me up.”
“Yeah,” Gil said, grinning broadly now. “I did.”
So far, so good. Surprisingly. Maybe there was something to this ‘jump first and build your wings on the way down’ approach. But still, his stomach fluttered with agitation, worry that he’d somehow screw this whole thing up. And all he had to go on, the only evidence that told him that this time it would work, were the words of an eccentric immortal, and an uncertain glimpse of the future. He suddenly wondered if he hadn’t imagined it all, if he wasn’t completely crazy for even being here.
Fuck that, he thought, suddenly. He knew what was real and what wasn’t, and what he’d been through tonight was real.
And if it wasn’t, well then, he ought to be committed. And he may as well give them a good reason to do so.
Before he could chicken out, he reached out both hands, grabbed Nick’s face and kissed him.
Nick made a noise of pure startlement, but didn’t pull away. He didn’t do anything at first, just let Gil taste his lips, move his mouth softly and insistently over Nick’s own. Then, just at the moment Gil would have given up and pulled away, Nick relented, making a soft noise in the back of his throat and opening his mouth. Gil made an answering noise and pulled him closer, tilting Nick’s head to get a better angle and pushing his tongue in to explore Nick’s mouth.
But then Nick did pull away. But he was breathing hard, and he didn’t look angry. Nor did he pull away enough to escape Gil’s grip on his head. He stared at Gil.
“…the hell was that?” he asked, but he was still smiling while he said it. And looking an awful lot like he’d like Gil to do it again.
“Nick…” he said.
Nick’s hand came up and wrapped itself around Gil’s wrist, squeezing. “What?” he breathed. “What is it, Gil?”
And then Gil knew, knew what he needed to say. And maybe, just maybe, it would be what Nick needed to hear.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ve let you down. I’ve disappointed you. And I’m sorry.” He saw Nick’s eyes well up at that, and he continued. “And I should have done this a long time ago.”
Then he pulled Nick down for a another kiss, soft and slow this time. He slid his tongue out, tasting Nick’s bottom lip, and urging his mouth open. Nick made a soft, high-pitched noise, and he caught Nick’s eye, seeing startlement and wonder there. Then it melted and Nick’s eyes fluttered shut as he pitched himself out to meet Gil’s kiss as deeply as he could. One lazy kiss melted into another, neither man able to ever get enough of the other’s mouth.
Gil could have sworn he heard cheering, then, but it must have just been the rush in his ears. His heart was pounding and his blood pumping, and this was so much more than he’d ever thought it could be, so endlessly perfect. Like Nick had been made for him.
But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t possibly be enough. Gil pulled on Nick’s head, desperately frustrated that this, this press of lips and tongues, this bite of teeth, was as close as they could get. He wanted everything. Now. And he was in no mood to wait.
“Why-” Nick said, gasping for breath and barely able to get words out between frantic kisses. “Why-” he tried again, and Gil shook his head once, grunting for Nick to be quiet, before taking Nick’s open mouth again and shuddering in heady delight at the taste.
“Had to,” Gil mumbled. Nick’s hands were wandering down his body now, touching in places no one had for far, far too long. But the feel of those hands, the feel of Nick, was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
This was what it felt like to be found.
Nick grabbed a fistful of Gil’s shirt and pulled him, backwards, to the couch. They hit it at the same time, and tumbled down. Somehow, Gil ended up sitting with Nick half on his lap, still trying to swallow him whole. Nick finally left his mouth, moving down to leave wet, sticky kisses on Gil’s face and throat.
He reached Gil’s collar, pulled it open, and pressed his hot mouth to Gil’s hotter skin. Gil moaned, a throaty, broken sound, that almost covered up the sudden ring of Nick’s cell phone. Almost, but not quite.
“Shit,” Nick hissed, fishing around for it. It had fallen between two of the couch cushions.
Nick found the phone and looked at the display. “It’s Warrick,” he said, and flipped it open.
“Hey man,” he said. “What? No. No, I was already awake.” He laughed. “Yeah, just got in, actually. Yeah, I’ll bring it. Uh-huh, I’ll see you there. Bye.” He hung up, still laughing.
“What?” Gil asked.
“He asked if I’d just come in from a run,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Said I sounded a little out of breath.”
Gil grinned. “He’s right,” he said. Nick glared. “What else did he want?” Gil asked.
“He wanted me to bring something to Cath’s party,” Nick said. He leaned down, picking up where he’d left off by biting just below Gil’s ear.
Cath’s party. Shit. Gil glanced at the clock.
“Nick,” he said, lifting Nick’s head and meeting with resistance. “Nick!” he said again, more forcefully. Nick finally lifted his head, fixing him with a sullen look. Oh God, who knew the man could pout like that? Gil closed his eyes, hoping it would break the spell. It worked. A little.
“Nick, we don’t have time,” Gil said. Nick grinned, wickedly.
“We have time for a quickie,” he suggested. Gil groaned, and Nick took it as encouragement, going for the top button of Gil’s pants. That woke Gil up.
“Nick, stop,” Gil said, and Nick did. He stared at Gil, expectantly.
“Don’t you want to?” he asked. He looked suddenly guarded, like he was afraid he’d made a terrible mistake.
“Yes!” Gil said, reaching up to touch Nick’s face. “But I’ve wanted it for years now, Nick. I can wait a little longer.” He tried a smile, but Nick didn’t return it. Gil sighed. “Nick, if you get my pants off now, there’s no way we’ll make it to the party.”
“Who says we’ve gotta go to the party?”
“I was planning on making an appearance, actually,” Gil said, wryly. Nick stared at him, then slowly smiled.
“I don’t know where you got this new leaf of yours, but I like it.” Then he stood up from Gil’s lap and hovered over him for a moment, arms braced on the back of the sofa. He leaned close, so that their foreheads were nearly touching. “What if I left your pants on?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped to his knees, nudging Gil’s legs apart so he could kneel between them.
Gil couldn’t breathe, and he had a sneaking suspicion the problem was only going to get worse. “Nick,” he said, a weak protest. Nick looked up, and suddenly grabbed both of Gil’s hands. He kissed his knuckles.
“Let me do this for you, Gil,” he said. “Please.” He wasn’t pleading, despite the words. Gil realized that he was being told, and all he could do was nod, mouth open in silent astonishment.
He watched, enraptured by Nick’s hands, as he unbuttoned and unzipped Gil’s pants, pushed his shirt out of the way, and so gently, almost reverently, reached in and pulled his dick out. Gil shivered, and only partly due to physical sensations. He leaned back, head falling limp onto the back of the sofa, and gasped for breath as Nick ran his fingers over the length, and Gil looked down just in time to see Nick take the tip into his mouth.
Gil gasped and bucked, trying as hard as he could to keep himself under control. Nick wanted to run the show, and Gil wanted to let him, but pent up energy was coursing through him, searching for an outlet. He grabbed Nick’s shoulders, squeezing hard enough that Nick made a soft noise in response.
A noise that vibrated along his cock and made Gil choke on his next inhale. “God, don’t tease,” Gil said, so winded he could barely speak. Nick just smiled around his mouthful, took Gil in as deep as he could and sucked. Hard.
Gil shouted, throaty nonsense ripped from his throat before he even knew what was happening. Nick wasn’t teasing, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to make this quick, either.
Gil dug his fingers even harder into Nick’s shoulder, fighting against the urge to grab Nick’s head and take control. This was so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, sexually or otherwise. This wasn’t his game, but Nick’s, and near as he could tell, Nick’s goal was to blow his mind.
Nick’s hand was involved now, touching and stroking everywhere his mouth couldn’t reach, giving Gil just enough to make his nerves scream with anticipation. His other hand was out of sight, and Gil only had enough mental capacity to wonder where it was for a second. The one was doing quite enough on its own, making him gasp and moan and beg.
Nick was making his own noises too, muffled sounds of pleasure and pent-up desire, soft whimpers that sounded both needy and content. Gil looked down, and that sight, the image of Nick’s face glowing with that very real contentment and joy, made every last wall in Gil’s heart crumble to dust.
His last thought, before he finally tumbled into orgasm, was to wonder what he had done to merit such a gift.
The world tilted and faded to gray for a moment, and he had a moment of fleeting panic that this, too had been a shadow, that something so good could not possibly have been real. But then he felt Nick’s hand, tucking him back in and then placing it on Gil’s thigh to use for leverage as he stood, and Gil sighed in utter contentment.
He opened his eyes to see Nick zipping his own fly up before collapsing on the couch next to Gil. So that’s where the other hand had been. He was sorry he’d missed seeing that, and felt a whisper of desire hit him again at the image. That was a damn optimistic thought, though. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it up again for days, he was so boneless and content.
Nick leaned into him, pillowing his head on Gil’s shoulder, and Gil reached around to hold him. He pulled him close, wrapping both arms around him and hugging like he never wanted to let go. Because, of course, he didn’t.
Finally, Nick pulled away. “If we’re gonna go,” he said, “I need to change first.” He gestured down the wet spot on his jeans, and Gil grinned. “I should probably shower, too, since I haven’t yet,” Nick said, standing up. “And if you wanted to join me…”
Gil gave Nick a push. “We’d use up all the water in Clark county before I wanted to get out,” he said. “Go. Be quick.”
Nick was just about out of the room when he stopped and turned. “Oh,” he said. “The game Warrick wanted me to bring. Gil, can you grab it? It’s on top of the bookshelf.”
Gil nodded and went over, reaching up and lifting a large box. He stared at it, and a smile crept over his face. Taboo, the box read.
“You ever played that before?” Nick yelled from the other room.
“I haven’t,” Gil said. Nick laughed.
“You’ll mop the floor with us,” he said.
***
“Well, now that’s a first.”
Gil froze where he was, halfway down the hall to the DNA lab and waited for Catherine to catch up. He raised a curious eyebrow. She smiled at him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you whistle before,” she said. Gil hummed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he had been whistling. It didn’t surprise him, though. He’d been uncontrollably happy from the minute he had walked into Catherine’s party onward.
Well, it had probably started a few hours before that, but Catherine’s party had been the first time he’d sat back, looked around and thought, This is what happiness is. It had been a landmark moment, a turning point for him. And it wasn’t just his thing with Nick that had changed, but that had given him the courage to try other things, too.
He had an email in his inbox from Isabelle Carter, now Isabelle Miller, and Gil had been glad to hear that, expressing in the warmest way possible how glad she was to hear from him. He’d had to contact LAPD to track her down, and he’d almost given up, but was now so glad he hadn’t.
She did remember him, and she’d missed him. Only then did he realize that he’d missed her as well.
“So what brought this on?” Catherine asked. Gil shrugged.
“It’s my new year’s resolution,” he said. She rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway.
“What, whistling or that dopey-happy look on your face?” she teased. He winked at her, but didn’t say anything.
“Hey,” she said, and shrugged. “I’m not prying. Wouldn’t want to jinx it.”
“Thanks, Catherine,” he responded, dryly.
“Hey, Cath!”
Both of them looked up as Nick rounded the corner. “I just talked to Ecklie about the --” he looked up, and noticed Gil standing there. A tiny, secret smile, touched his lips for just a second, and was then quickly buried under a mask of professionalism. Still, as brief as it had been, it had touched a deep part of Gil.
“Anyway, he said not to worry about it for another couple weeks,” Nick continued. “He convinced the DA to hold off filing until we’ve got something more concrete.”
Catherine sighed. “Well that’s a relief. Thanks, Nick.”
“No problem,” he said, and started to leave, when something stopped him. “Hey,” he said, turning back to them. “Either of you been to Ecklie’s office lately?”
Catherine shook her head, but Gil just smiled. “Why?” Catherine asked.
“He’s got a Chia pet on his desk,” Nick said, making a face that conveyed exactly how screwy he thought that was. Catherine snorted.
“A Chia pet?” she asked, and looked at Gil for his reaction. Gil shrugged.
“Well,” he said on a sigh, “I would imagine that he’s rather difficult to shop for.” That made both Nick and Catherine laugh, and he chuckled, himself.
Conrad could do with more whimsy in his life, and if it took silly gifts, than so be it. He hadn’t said anything to Gil about it, but neither had he thrown it out. That was probably as close to a ‘thank you’ as he was likely to get, and that was fine with Gil.
“Well, obviously something I’ve never thought much about,” Catherine said. She started to leave, but looked at Gil before she did. “Say, you wanna grab something to eat after shift?” she asked.
“Sorry Catherine,” Gil said, and made it a point to not look at Nick. “But I’m afraid I already have plans.” She raised her eyebrows.
“You? Have plans?” Gil cocked his head, inviting further commentary from her. She waved him off. “Will wonders never cease.” Then, with a pat on his arm, she left him and Nick alone in the hallway.
“So we’re still on?” Nick said, in a low voice once she was out of earshot.
“We’re always on,” Gil answered, and was treated to the brightest, most beautiful smile in return.
“Great,” Nick said, and started back down the hall. “See you then.” Gil watched him go, amazed to know that he was responsible for putting a look like that on Nick Stokes’s face.
He shook his head, incredulous, and headed for the DNA lab. Whistling.
***
The hills are bare at Bethlehem, no future for the world they show. Yet here new life begins to grow, from earth's old dust a greenwood stem.
The stars are cold at Bethlehem, no warmth for those beneath the sky. Yet here the radiant angels fly, and joy burns new, a fi'ry gem.
The heart is tired at Bethlehem, no human dream unbroken stands. Yet here God comes to mortal hands, and hope renewed cries out: "Amen!"
--”The Hills are Bare at Bethlehem;” a hymn sung during the Christmast season. Or, if you will, A Christmas Carol.
Author: Knightmusic
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Notes: So yeah, all that stuff I said about there being no sex in this story? Turns out I lied.
Disclaimer: Who would be fooled by this? I ask you? Who? Not mine!
Previous chapters can be found here.
5. Hope Renewed Cries Out, "Amen!"
His antlers were gone, which Gil was glad of. His hat was off to, he toyed with it in his hands, and his red-gold hair fell freely about his shoulders, catching the light so that it looked a bit like blazing fire. He seemed smaller now, subdued. Quiet.
Not traits that he’d demonstrated a capacity for at their first encounter.
“So,” Zee said, patting the ground next to him in an invitation. “Miss me?”
“Actually,” Gil said and groaned as he lowered himself to sit down, “I did.” It surprised him to realize how much truth there was to that. Zee was good company, with a kind of humor that Gil didn’t often encounter, but that wasn’t what Gil had missed. It would have been helpful, reassuring, rather, to have had his hearty companionship when facing down his future.
“Hmm,” Zee said, nodding slowly and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”
The sincerity behind those words gave Gil pause.
‘I’m sorry’ were common enough words to come by, especially in his field, and he’d run the gamut between apologies that were honestly meant and those that weren’t and everything in between. ‘Sorry’ and ‘sorrow’ were not the same thing.
And now here was Zee, a man -- an entity -- about which he knew absolutely nothing at all, sounding genuinely sorrowful.
“Do you do this a lot?” Gil asked.
“What?” Zee said, cracking one eye open then closing it again. “Host the supernatural version of ‘This is Your Life’?” He grinned. “That’s my gig.”
“Is it always like this?”
Zee shrugged. “Same basic formula.” He opened his eyes and started gesturing. “Past, present, future. Get to the end and hope they learn something.” Then he turned and winked at Gil. “But it’s not always like this. No.”
“How so?”
Zee’s eyes glinted suddenly with hidden knowledge. “It’s like this,” he said, turning to look Gil straight on. “I’m a guide. My job is to find people who are…lost, and show them the way back..” His grin tightened and he tapped the side of his nose. “Now here’s the secret; You remember I said you weren’t what I expected?” Gil nodded.
“Well, I wasn’t just talking about your choices in decor,” Zee said. “I don’t get people like you often. Because people like you don’t need to be shown the way.”
Insofar as Gil had been expecting anything, he hadn’t been expecting that at all. “Then what was…” He broke of, confused.
“I’m sorry to say,” Zee said, and again, Gil detected genuine regret, as though this were something that hurt him to say, “that your Nick suffers from a false hope.”
The mention of Nick made Gil’s throat constrict until it hurt.
“It’s not likely that he’ll ever meet another Gil Grissom in his lifetime,” Zee said, looking Gil in the eye. “Believe me, I’ve looked.”
Gil gaped. His throat was still too tight to speak.
“What people like you need,” Zee went on, tapping Gil on the chest, “you old souls, is a reminder. And here it is.” He leaned closer and Gil held his breath, unable to stop the terrible expectation filling his heart with hope.
“You,” Zee said, spacing each word, “are not alone.”
Gil pulled back, mouth open and eyes instantly brimming as the words hit him, a blow to his most unguarded and sensitive part of himself. How long had he waited to hear someone say those words to him? How long had he needed to know?
He lost track of himself then, of what he was doing, where he was and what nonsense he was muttering to himself. He realized, vaguely, that he was weeping into Zee’s shoulder, and that the spirit’s arms were around him.
He realized that he was crying, but he didn’t care. He’d spent years, his entire life, convinced that he would always be on the outside, looking in, but Zee was telling the truth now. Gil could feel it. Felt it and knew that it was true. It felt so good and so awful at the same time, like every frightened, lonely, hurting part of him, parts that had laid dormant and festering for years instead of healing, were being hauled awake and burned clean.
He’d never felt so safe.
After a long time, and more tears than he’d shed in his entire life, he pulled away. He felt the oddest sense of peace. His breathing calmed, and when Zee handed him a handkerchief, something occurred to him.
“How did you know what Nick said about me?”
Zee chuckled. “Well, that’s an easy one. I was there.”
Gil stared at him. “What?”
“Gil,” Zee said, fondly chaffing Gil’s shoulders. “When, exactly, is ‘The Future’? When is it ‘The Past’?”
Gil’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Only the present actually exists,” he said.
“Bingo.” Zee nodded. “Past is finite; future is infinite.” He held his hands out, palms up. “The present is eternal. And all you’ve got.”
Gil’s mouth curled up. “So those other two spirits were…” He gestured with one hand, inviting Zee to elaborate.
“Pale imitations of the real deal,” Zee said. “Shadows. Just like the things they showed you.” He leaned in, conspiritorialy. “Truth now; they seemed a little fakey, didn’t they?”
Gil chuckled. “You certainly are…vivid in comparison.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Zee said, and completely stunned Gil by giving him a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheek, complete with ’mm-ah!’ sound. “You’ll make me go all mushy.” Gil stared at him and Zee just laughed. Then he stood up, hauling Gil to his feet.
“Speaking of which,” Zee said, “what’re you going to do about Nick?”
Nick. Shit.
“I-” Gil said, suddenly feeling cold fear, panic, take hold.
And Zee laughed again. Heartily, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms around his stomach.
“Damn, you’re priceless,” he said, calming down and slinging an arm over Gil’s shoulder. “Okay, let me take the high beams off you. Maybe you won’t be so petrified.” Gil managed to fight off his initial reaction long enough to glare at Zee. It didn’t have the kind of effect on him that it did on a subordinate or a suspect, but it did at least make him stop laughing.
“Okay, here’s an easier question,” Zee said. “What do you want to do about Nick?”
Gil pursed his lips. “I want Nick to-”
“That’s not what I asked,” Zee said. Gil glared at him in irritation; what made him think he knew what he’d been about to say?
“Everyone in the known universe knows you want what’s best for Nick, want him to excel, to grow, to be happy,” Zee said. Gil scowled. Apparently he did know.
“And that’s great,” Zee continued. “We all know you’ve got his best interests at heart. Now, just for a moment, forget about that. I’m asking what you want. You can deal with hypothetical questions, right Gil-baby?”
He didn’t mind being called ‘Gil-baby.’ He minded the condesention. And he had a shrewd suspicion that Zee had put it there expressly to annoy him. That only annoyed him further. Then he sighed, the absurdity finally defeating him.
“I want to be with Nick,” Gil said.
“’To have and to hold, till death parts you’ and all that?” Zee said, lightly teasing. Gil gave him an unamused, long-suffering look.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he said. “I want to be happy.” He brought up a hand, quickly forestalling any interjections that Zee might have. “I want to make him happy.”
“Great,” Zee said, all teasing gone. “So go get it, then.”
Gil sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s not that easy,” he said. “Things with Nick are…they’ve always been complicated.”
“That’s love, Gil,” Zee said, gently.
Then he went very still, his eyes suddenly far away. "'For one human being to love another,'" he said, slowly and with quiet reverance, "'that is the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test of proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.'"
Gil stared at him. "Who...?" he asked. The words seemed almost familiar, like something he'd known a lifetime ago. Zee gave him a knowing look.
"You have to stop letting your past rule you," he said. "Roger never had as much power over you as his memory does, now."
Gil bristled. The remark was not unkindly made, but it chaffed a wound that had been open and sore for most of his life, unable to fully heal. “This isn’t about Roger,” he said. “I’ve put that behind me.”
"Actually," Zee said, "all I meant was that you stopped reading poetry after him. It’s not poor Rilke’s fault that you got hurt." Gil’s mouth dropped, and he suddenly felt that he might have given too much away. “But since you bring it up…”
Gil groaned.
“…I don’t think this is about Roger,” Zee finished. Gil looked at him, wondering where he was headed. “At least not entirely.” His face softened. “Gil,” he said, with the deepest sympathy, “you would have had enough to deal with in your life just being you. But you’ve been conditioned not to trust. Or get attached.”
Gil looked away. This was old, stale pain and he didn’t want to revisit it right now. But Zee wasn’t giving him that option.
“Your father, and what you saw that do to your mother, then Roger, hell, even Catherine’s gotten her licks in over the years, hasn’t she?”
Gil nodded. There didn’t seem to be much point in denying anything or trying to protect himself at this point. But he didn’t look up. Zee hummed in understanding.
“Those are hard lessons,” he said. “That’s the problem with listening to your heart; sometimes it’s wrong. And you get hurt. And then you don’t want to listen to it again. But I’ll tell you this much-” He paused and craned his head down until he found Gil’s eyes. Slowly, Gil raised his head to look at him.
“If you ever ignore your heart, I promise you that there’s no cure for that pain.”
Gil let the words sit in the air, repeating them in his head and weighing his options. The memory of standing under the tree with Nick, touching his face, hearing those impossible words, made his heart buckle. But nothing was certain, was it?
“Hey, you’ve even got an advantage,” Zee said. “You’ve already heard his thoughts on the subject.” Gil looked at him.
“But you said that was just a shadow,” he said.
“Your future? Yeah, it was,” Zee said. “But I could just as easily have shown you a future where went to the doctor regularily, beat that thing, and lived into old age. You and Nick built a great house in one of them, by the way. Huge thing with these gigantic windows. Bet they're hell to clean.” Gil sighed.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said, helplessly. Zee laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Gil, that’s the thing that matters the least,” he said. “Just trust me on this one. Do something. Anything. Even if it’s the wrong thing. No one expects perfect grace from you.” He gave Gil a knowing look. “How could they? They know you!”
The jibe stung, but in a way that Gil found wasn’t unpleasant. He took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right,” he said.
Zee actually whooped out loud with that. “Success!” he yelled, and snapped his fingers.
The world flickered, and sudden light made Gil squeeze his eyes shut in pain. When he opened them again, they were outside, standing in front of a house. It took Gil only a moment to recognize the house.
“What-”
“Just because you’re on the right track,” Zee said, pushing past him, “doesn’t mean I think I can leave you to your own devices just yet.” He rang the doorbell, waited a few seconds, then leaned on it. From inside came the muffled sound of someone running, and then a voice yelled,
“Coming!”
Gil whipped his head around to stare at Zee in furious horror. Zee smiled, showing all of his teeth.
“Good luck, Gil,” he said. “It’s been wild.” He flashed him a thumbs up, and vanished. Gil turned back to the door, and was nowhere near an idea as to what he was going to do or say, when it opened.
"Grissom?" Nick said, obvious surprise in his voice and on his face. He'd clearly just gotten out of bed; he was wearing sweats and his hair was rumpled. And he had a pillow mark across one cheek that Gil suddenly, and very badly, wanted to touch.
"What's up?" Nick asked, still hopelessly perplexed. But then, wonder of wonders, he smiled, and Gil knew he was undone. And what was more, he didn't care. In fact, he was glad of it.
Shadows, Gil thought, not real. His breath caught in his chest, and it seemed a wonder that he didn't just float away, given how light he suddenly felt. The Nick standing in front of him right now was not the hurting, lonely man that Gil had last seen, he wasn't even the brooding man Gil had seen in Catherine's kitchen. He was smiling, and Gil's task suddenly didn't seem so daunting anymore.
Nick stared at him for a second longer, and then comprehension snapped in his eyes. “Shit,” he said. “Grissom, I had my cell turned on, I swear.” Suddenly, Nick looked terribly nervous. And apologetic.
“I musta just slept through it. I’m real sorry,” Nick continued. “Just give me a sec, okay? I’ll be ready to go.” He turned from the door to go back inside, gesturing over his shoulder as he did that Gil should come in and wait. Not having the slightest idea what he should do, or even what was going on, Gil entered.
Nick had darted back down the hall and into his bedroom. “When did you call?” Nick shouted.
What? Gil thought. Nick had some seriously crossed wires, here. It almost seemed like he’d been expecting him.
And then Gil got it. Nick was off today, yes, but he was still on-call. And as far as he knew, the only reason that Gil would show up on his front door was if he needed Nick on a case and hadn’t been able to get in touch with him through normal means. Probably a big, messy, complicated case if it was worth hauling people in on a holiday. No wonder the poor guy looked so guilty; he thought he’d slept through an important page.
Nick came back into the living room, dressed now in jeans and a button-down blue shirt, carrying his phone in one hand and his socks in another. “Damn thing didn’t even register your calls,” Nick muttered, and tossed the phone down next to him. God, he was so cute when he got all wound up like this! He’d noticed it, and enjoyed it, before, but it apparently it had gone off his radar at some point.
“So what’ve we got?” Nick asked. “Something big?”
“Yeah,” Gil said, as dryly as he could manage. “I thought we could ride together to Catherine’s party. There’s not a lot of space in her driveway, so there’s no point in taking two cars.”
The most interesting array of emotions played out over Nick’s face, then. At first, he blinked in blank, stupid incomprehension, then Gil’s words seemed to register and his eyes went wide with shock. Gil could only guess that it was in response to his voiced intention to be seen at a social gathering. Then Nick’s eyes narrowed, and he aimed a light glare at Gil.
“You son of a bitch,” he said, but the corners of his lips were twitching. Really, Nick had a lamentable poker face. “You set me up.”
“Yeah,” Gil said, grinning broadly now. “I did.”
So far, so good. Surprisingly. Maybe there was something to this ‘jump first and build your wings on the way down’ approach. But still, his stomach fluttered with agitation, worry that he’d somehow screw this whole thing up. And all he had to go on, the only evidence that told him that this time it would work, were the words of an eccentric immortal, and an uncertain glimpse of the future. He suddenly wondered if he hadn’t imagined it all, if he wasn’t completely crazy for even being here.
Fuck that, he thought, suddenly. He knew what was real and what wasn’t, and what he’d been through tonight was real.
And if it wasn’t, well then, he ought to be committed. And he may as well give them a good reason to do so.
Before he could chicken out, he reached out both hands, grabbed Nick’s face and kissed him.
Nick made a noise of pure startlement, but didn’t pull away. He didn’t do anything at first, just let Gil taste his lips, move his mouth softly and insistently over Nick’s own. Then, just at the moment Gil would have given up and pulled away, Nick relented, making a soft noise in the back of his throat and opening his mouth. Gil made an answering noise and pulled him closer, tilting Nick’s head to get a better angle and pushing his tongue in to explore Nick’s mouth.
But then Nick did pull away. But he was breathing hard, and he didn’t look angry. Nor did he pull away enough to escape Gil’s grip on his head. He stared at Gil.
“…the hell was that?” he asked, but he was still smiling while he said it. And looking an awful lot like he’d like Gil to do it again.
“Nick…” he said.
Nick’s hand came up and wrapped itself around Gil’s wrist, squeezing. “What?” he breathed. “What is it, Gil?”
And then Gil knew, knew what he needed to say. And maybe, just maybe, it would be what Nick needed to hear.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ve let you down. I’ve disappointed you. And I’m sorry.” He saw Nick’s eyes well up at that, and he continued. “And I should have done this a long time ago.”
Then he pulled Nick down for a another kiss, soft and slow this time. He slid his tongue out, tasting Nick’s bottom lip, and urging his mouth open. Nick made a soft, high-pitched noise, and he caught Nick’s eye, seeing startlement and wonder there. Then it melted and Nick’s eyes fluttered shut as he pitched himself out to meet Gil’s kiss as deeply as he could. One lazy kiss melted into another, neither man able to ever get enough of the other’s mouth.
Gil could have sworn he heard cheering, then, but it must have just been the rush in his ears. His heart was pounding and his blood pumping, and this was so much more than he’d ever thought it could be, so endlessly perfect. Like Nick had been made for him.
But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t possibly be enough. Gil pulled on Nick’s head, desperately frustrated that this, this press of lips and tongues, this bite of teeth, was as close as they could get. He wanted everything. Now. And he was in no mood to wait.
“Why-” Nick said, gasping for breath and barely able to get words out between frantic kisses. “Why-” he tried again, and Gil shook his head once, grunting for Nick to be quiet, before taking Nick’s open mouth again and shuddering in heady delight at the taste.
“Had to,” Gil mumbled. Nick’s hands were wandering down his body now, touching in places no one had for far, far too long. But the feel of those hands, the feel of Nick, was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
This was what it felt like to be found.
Nick grabbed a fistful of Gil’s shirt and pulled him, backwards, to the couch. They hit it at the same time, and tumbled down. Somehow, Gil ended up sitting with Nick half on his lap, still trying to swallow him whole. Nick finally left his mouth, moving down to leave wet, sticky kisses on Gil’s face and throat.
He reached Gil’s collar, pulled it open, and pressed his hot mouth to Gil’s hotter skin. Gil moaned, a throaty, broken sound, that almost covered up the sudden ring of Nick’s cell phone. Almost, but not quite.
“Shit,” Nick hissed, fishing around for it. It had fallen between two of the couch cushions.
Nick found the phone and looked at the display. “It’s Warrick,” he said, and flipped it open.
“Hey man,” he said. “What? No. No, I was already awake.” He laughed. “Yeah, just got in, actually. Yeah, I’ll bring it. Uh-huh, I’ll see you there. Bye.” He hung up, still laughing.
“What?” Gil asked.
“He asked if I’d just come in from a run,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Said I sounded a little out of breath.”
Gil grinned. “He’s right,” he said. Nick glared. “What else did he want?” Gil asked.
“He wanted me to bring something to Cath’s party,” Nick said. He leaned down, picking up where he’d left off by biting just below Gil’s ear.
Cath’s party. Shit. Gil glanced at the clock.
“Nick,” he said, lifting Nick’s head and meeting with resistance. “Nick!” he said again, more forcefully. Nick finally lifted his head, fixing him with a sullen look. Oh God, who knew the man could pout like that? Gil closed his eyes, hoping it would break the spell. It worked. A little.
“Nick, we don’t have time,” Gil said. Nick grinned, wickedly.
“We have time for a quickie,” he suggested. Gil groaned, and Nick took it as encouragement, going for the top button of Gil’s pants. That woke Gil up.
“Nick, stop,” Gil said, and Nick did. He stared at Gil, expectantly.
“Don’t you want to?” he asked. He looked suddenly guarded, like he was afraid he’d made a terrible mistake.
“Yes!” Gil said, reaching up to touch Nick’s face. “But I’ve wanted it for years now, Nick. I can wait a little longer.” He tried a smile, but Nick didn’t return it. Gil sighed. “Nick, if you get my pants off now, there’s no way we’ll make it to the party.”
“Who says we’ve gotta go to the party?”
“I was planning on making an appearance, actually,” Gil said, wryly. Nick stared at him, then slowly smiled.
“I don’t know where you got this new leaf of yours, but I like it.” Then he stood up from Gil’s lap and hovered over him for a moment, arms braced on the back of the sofa. He leaned close, so that their foreheads were nearly touching. “What if I left your pants on?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped to his knees, nudging Gil’s legs apart so he could kneel between them.
Gil couldn’t breathe, and he had a sneaking suspicion the problem was only going to get worse. “Nick,” he said, a weak protest. Nick looked up, and suddenly grabbed both of Gil’s hands. He kissed his knuckles.
“Let me do this for you, Gil,” he said. “Please.” He wasn’t pleading, despite the words. Gil realized that he was being told, and all he could do was nod, mouth open in silent astonishment.
He watched, enraptured by Nick’s hands, as he unbuttoned and unzipped Gil’s pants, pushed his shirt out of the way, and so gently, almost reverently, reached in and pulled his dick out. Gil shivered, and only partly due to physical sensations. He leaned back, head falling limp onto the back of the sofa, and gasped for breath as Nick ran his fingers over the length, and Gil looked down just in time to see Nick take the tip into his mouth.
Gil gasped and bucked, trying as hard as he could to keep himself under control. Nick wanted to run the show, and Gil wanted to let him, but pent up energy was coursing through him, searching for an outlet. He grabbed Nick’s shoulders, squeezing hard enough that Nick made a soft noise in response.
A noise that vibrated along his cock and made Gil choke on his next inhale. “God, don’t tease,” Gil said, so winded he could barely speak. Nick just smiled around his mouthful, took Gil in as deep as he could and sucked. Hard.
Gil shouted, throaty nonsense ripped from his throat before he even knew what was happening. Nick wasn’t teasing, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to make this quick, either.
Gil dug his fingers even harder into Nick’s shoulder, fighting against the urge to grab Nick’s head and take control. This was so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, sexually or otherwise. This wasn’t his game, but Nick’s, and near as he could tell, Nick’s goal was to blow his mind.
Nick’s hand was involved now, touching and stroking everywhere his mouth couldn’t reach, giving Gil just enough to make his nerves scream with anticipation. His other hand was out of sight, and Gil only had enough mental capacity to wonder where it was for a second. The one was doing quite enough on its own, making him gasp and moan and beg.
Nick was making his own noises too, muffled sounds of pleasure and pent-up desire, soft whimpers that sounded both needy and content. Gil looked down, and that sight, the image of Nick’s face glowing with that very real contentment and joy, made every last wall in Gil’s heart crumble to dust.
His last thought, before he finally tumbled into orgasm, was to wonder what he had done to merit such a gift.
The world tilted and faded to gray for a moment, and he had a moment of fleeting panic that this, too had been a shadow, that something so good could not possibly have been real. But then he felt Nick’s hand, tucking him back in and then placing it on Gil’s thigh to use for leverage as he stood, and Gil sighed in utter contentment.
He opened his eyes to see Nick zipping his own fly up before collapsing on the couch next to Gil. So that’s where the other hand had been. He was sorry he’d missed seeing that, and felt a whisper of desire hit him again at the image. That was a damn optimistic thought, though. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it up again for days, he was so boneless and content.
Nick leaned into him, pillowing his head on Gil’s shoulder, and Gil reached around to hold him. He pulled him close, wrapping both arms around him and hugging like he never wanted to let go. Because, of course, he didn’t.
Finally, Nick pulled away. “If we’re gonna go,” he said, “I need to change first.” He gestured down the wet spot on his jeans, and Gil grinned. “I should probably shower, too, since I haven’t yet,” Nick said, standing up. “And if you wanted to join me…”
Gil gave Nick a push. “We’d use up all the water in Clark county before I wanted to get out,” he said. “Go. Be quick.”
Nick was just about out of the room when he stopped and turned. “Oh,” he said. “The game Warrick wanted me to bring. Gil, can you grab it? It’s on top of the bookshelf.”
Gil nodded and went over, reaching up and lifting a large box. He stared at it, and a smile crept over his face. Taboo, the box read.
“You ever played that before?” Nick yelled from the other room.
“I haven’t,” Gil said. Nick laughed.
“You’ll mop the floor with us,” he said.
***
“Well, now that’s a first.”
Gil froze where he was, halfway down the hall to the DNA lab and waited for Catherine to catch up. He raised a curious eyebrow. She smiled at him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you whistle before,” she said. Gil hummed in surprise. He hadn’t realized that he had been whistling. It didn’t surprise him, though. He’d been uncontrollably happy from the minute he had walked into Catherine’s party onward.
Well, it had probably started a few hours before that, but Catherine’s party had been the first time he’d sat back, looked around and thought, This is what happiness is. It had been a landmark moment, a turning point for him. And it wasn’t just his thing with Nick that had changed, but that had given him the courage to try other things, too.
He had an email in his inbox from Isabelle Carter, now Isabelle Miller, and Gil had been glad to hear that, expressing in the warmest way possible how glad she was to hear from him. He’d had to contact LAPD to track her down, and he’d almost given up, but was now so glad he hadn’t.
She did remember him, and she’d missed him. Only then did he realize that he’d missed her as well.
“So what brought this on?” Catherine asked. Gil shrugged.
“It’s my new year’s resolution,” he said. She rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway.
“What, whistling or that dopey-happy look on your face?” she teased. He winked at her, but didn’t say anything.
“Hey,” she said, and shrugged. “I’m not prying. Wouldn’t want to jinx it.”
“Thanks, Catherine,” he responded, dryly.
“Hey, Cath!”
Both of them looked up as Nick rounded the corner. “I just talked to Ecklie about the --” he looked up, and noticed Gil standing there. A tiny, secret smile, touched his lips for just a second, and was then quickly buried under a mask of professionalism. Still, as brief as it had been, it had touched a deep part of Gil.
“Anyway, he said not to worry about it for another couple weeks,” Nick continued. “He convinced the DA to hold off filing until we’ve got something more concrete.”
Catherine sighed. “Well that’s a relief. Thanks, Nick.”
“No problem,” he said, and started to leave, when something stopped him. “Hey,” he said, turning back to them. “Either of you been to Ecklie’s office lately?”
Catherine shook her head, but Gil just smiled. “Why?” Catherine asked.
“He’s got a Chia pet on his desk,” Nick said, making a face that conveyed exactly how screwy he thought that was. Catherine snorted.
“A Chia pet?” she asked, and looked at Gil for his reaction. Gil shrugged.
“Well,” he said on a sigh, “I would imagine that he’s rather difficult to shop for.” That made both Nick and Catherine laugh, and he chuckled, himself.
Conrad could do with more whimsy in his life, and if it took silly gifts, than so be it. He hadn’t said anything to Gil about it, but neither had he thrown it out. That was probably as close to a ‘thank you’ as he was likely to get, and that was fine with Gil.
“Well, obviously something I’ve never thought much about,” Catherine said. She started to leave, but looked at Gil before she did. “Say, you wanna grab something to eat after shift?” she asked.
“Sorry Catherine,” Gil said, and made it a point to not look at Nick. “But I’m afraid I already have plans.” She raised her eyebrows.
“You? Have plans?” Gil cocked his head, inviting further commentary from her. She waved him off. “Will wonders never cease.” Then, with a pat on his arm, she left him and Nick alone in the hallway.
“So we’re still on?” Nick said, in a low voice once she was out of earshot.
“We’re always on,” Gil answered, and was treated to the brightest, most beautiful smile in return.
“Great,” Nick said, and started back down the hall. “See you then.” Gil watched him go, amazed to know that he was responsible for putting a look like that on Nick Stokes’s face.
He shook his head, incredulous, and headed for the DNA lab. Whistling.
***
The hills are bare at Bethlehem, no future for the world they show. Yet here new life begins to grow, from earth's old dust a greenwood stem.
The stars are cold at Bethlehem, no warmth for those beneath the sky. Yet here the radiant angels fly, and joy burns new, a fi'ry gem.
The heart is tired at Bethlehem, no human dream unbroken stands. Yet here God comes to mortal hands, and hope renewed cries out: "Amen!"
--”The Hills are Bare at Bethlehem;” a hymn sung during the Christmast season. Or, if you will, A Christmas Carol.