Lost & Found Part 5

"Dammit, Warrick!" Nick pushed away from him and moved to the other end of the couch.

With an aggravated sigh, Warrick let his head fall back until he was staring at the ceiling, unable to help reflecting on what a change this was from a week ago when they had lounged on the couch together for hours after Nick's argument with his father, caressing and kissing and just enjoying the feel of one another. Things had been very good for days afterward.

The next day, Nick had decided to call his mother after all, and it had gone fairly well. Nick's voice had quavered a few times, but he'd managed to keep up the conversation for a solid twenty minutes and convince his mother to let him decide when they should talk again.

The day after that, he'd called Catherine, then Susannah; the day after that, Greg and Sammie and so it went until he'd called most of his friends and family.

Nick's mood had improved, at least for a little while, and he began hinting at more than just affection from Warrick. Inevitably, he would move things along faster than he was ready for and end up having to break it off suddenly.

Warrick knew Nick was thinking that he could just push past his fears as he had before, not taking into account that he hadn't recovered his worst memories then. Whenever he tried to point this out, to reassure Nick it was all right, Nick would usually get angry.

But then, it didn't take very much to make Nick angry these days.

And although Warrick knew why it was happening, it was also getting frustrating for him to continually start and stop, because no matter that he always told himself that things weren't likely to progress very far, his body had other ideas. He didn't want to say no when Nick initiated something, but every time he had to stop suddenly, irritation flashed through him. Every frisson of exasperation, every spark of anger at being put off, made him feel guilty.

In an effort to save himself the guilt and Nick the feeling of failure, Warrick began watching even more carefully for signs of trepidation from Nick and would slow down at the slightest hesitation from his lover.

Which brought them to today.

"Did it ever occur to you that I was just taking a breath?" Nick demanded.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you weren't. I know the difference."

"You don't know whether it was so bad I had to stop," Nick glared at him.

"No, I don't," Warrick agreed, and that made him angry as well. "How would I? You never tell me where the hell you're at."

"Since when do you need a play-by-play?"

Things were going to get out of hand any minute, and Warrick tried to calm down. "Nick, I just don't like it getting to the point where you--"

"Freak out?" Nick supplied with a sneer that could have been meant for Warrick or himself.

Warrick didn't know what to say to that.

"I'm going for a walk," Nick growled under his breath.

Instead of trying to stop him, Warrick just waited for the door to slam before letting out another sigh. At least Nick was getting out of the house more. Too bad it was usually because he'd stormed out after one of the arguments that sprang up so easily between them right now.

Nick didn't return until just before Warrick had to go in to work. They didn't speak, instead exchanging several soft kisses that said everything they wanted to and was preferable for both of them.

As he drove to the lab, Warrick tried to think of some way he and Nick could work through this problem. Thus far, none of the arguments had been too major or lasted very long, but eventually they would start taking their toll.

Work that night wasn't too crazy--for Vegas--but it was steady enough that Warrick ended up working several hours overtime. He wasn't too surprised to find Nick asleep when he returned home, or to find that Nick had left breakfast and coffee for him.

He ate on the couch, since the table was still covered with modeling supplies. Although he didn't know Nick's reason for leaving them out, Warrick hadn't given up hope that he might return to the project and couldn't help reflecting on how animated Nick had been whenever he talked about it.

His meal finished, Warrick took a quick shower before climbing into bed next to Nick.

Stirring, Nick mumbled a drowsy, "Hey," and turned toward him.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry about before."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for."

Nick shifted, propping himself up slightly. "I want to get past this, Warrick. I want to be able to give you what you want."

Warrick was about to say he had everything he wanted, even though he knew Nick wouldn't believe him, when another idea occurred to him. One that heated the blood in his veins. "You know what might work?"

"What?"

"Maybe if you fucked me."

"What?"

"I said--"

"I know what you said," Nick snapped. "You think that's gonna fix everything?"

That wasn't the reaction Warrick expected. Actually, he wasn't sure what sort of reaction he'd expected, but it hadn't been anger. On second thought, maybe it should have been. "I know there's no way to fix everything. I just thought--" he shrugged, since he wasn't sure what he'd thought.

Nick didn't speak, but sat up, his jerky movements an indication of just how irritated he was.

Warrick couldn't help feeling some disappointment that Nick didn't even show the slightest interest. "Look, I just thought it might be easier for you if you knew that's where things were going." When Nick remained silent, he pressed on, "We would have gotten around to it eventually, right?"

"Really?"

Warrick could practically feel the emotions vibrating through Nick, but wasn't able to identify them. "I always figured we would."

"And this is what you want."

Something in Nick's tone immediately put Warrick on his guard and he pushed himself into a sitting position as well. "Nicky, if you don't want to, it's no big deal." Except that now the idea of having Nick inside him, along with the tension thrumming through the air, meant that if nothing happened he was going to need another shower. A cold one.

But then Nick slowly moved until he was straddling Warrick's legs and sitting on his thighs. There was such a deliberateness to it that Warrick hardly dared to breathe and other than bracing himself on his hands, didn't move, either. It was possible Nick was uncertain and being cautious, but that definitely wasn't the vibe Warrick was getting from him.

"You sure this is what you want, Rick?"

It sounded like Nick and yet...didn't. Warrick hesitated.

"Rick?"

"Yes," Warrick gasped and was rewarded by Nick's mouth coming down on his. When he felt Nick's lips moving down to his neck, he let his head fall back, wishing he'd suggested this a long time ago.

Nick's hands were on his chest and ribs. Nick's fingers were tweaking his nipples. Warrick was tempted to reach out and pull Nick closer, to get rid of the pajamas Nick was still wearing, but he didn't want to do anything that might throw Nick off. No, he definitely didn't want to throw Nick off when Nick's hands and mouth were setting every inch of his skin on fire.

There was no hesitation on Nick's part as he leaned closer and Warrick readily slumped down until he was resting on his elbows. Except for their rapid breathing, there was no sound in the room, which was unusual for them. It somehow made everything a bit surreal, but it did nothing to dampen Warrick's libido.

Or Nick's, apparently. He gave Warrick a slight shove to push him flat on his back, but instead of following, scooted further down Warrick's legs, tugging Warrick's boxers off as he went.

Warrick tensed, biting back a groan when he felt Nick's breath on his cock and could barely stifle a whimper when Nick left the bed. He was about to ask what was going on but then saw Nick quickly stripping off his pajamas. When Nick climbed back on top of him, Warrick was unable to hold back any longer and let out a moan at the complete skin-to-skin contact. He could barely believe they had arrived at this point so quickly after weeks of not getting anywhere, but Nick was like a man on a mission.

Finally, Warrick couldn't take it anymore. He had to touch, to hold, but his fingertips had barely made contact with that warm skin when Nick grasped his wrist, stopping him. Warrick took the hint, fisting his hands in the sheets instead. If that was the way Nick wanted things, it was fine by him, just as long as Nick didn't stop moving on top of him like that.

After another few minutes of writhing under Nick's ministrations, Warrick began to wonder if Nick was even enjoying himself. What he'd thought of as sensual deliberateness could also be robotic determination. "Nick," he started to push himself back up into a sitting position. "Nicky--"

Any other words were swallowed in another kiss, then Nick broke off to press his lips to Warrick's cheek. "I need you to turn over," Nick's voice was raspy.

It was almost--almost--as though Nick was some stranger, but it wasn't unnerving enough to turn Warrick off. If he only knew for sure that Nick was enjoying this, he could really get into it. He did as Nick asked, flipping over onto his stomach, pausing only to adjust his himself.

"You sure about this?"

That sounded even less like Nick and for a moment, Warrick was tempted to say no, but then a hand trailed along his spine and down to his ass and Warrick would have agreed to anything Nick suggested. "Hell, yeah, I'm sure," he said, getting onto his hands and knees.

Nick didn't waste any time, he opened the night stand drawer and took out what they needed.

Warrick knew he should be a little concerned about the situation, maybe even worried. He knew he should say something, should at least tell Nick to go slowly. Even though this certainly wasn't his first time, it had been a while. He remained silent, though, waiting to see if it was even necessary.

The first finger, well-slicked, went in with no problem. When Nick added a second, Warrick bent lower, resting his head on his forearms and making his body relax.

Normally, he would have thought Nick would keep up a steady stream of words, but that wasn't something this stranger-Nick did. Still, the time and care being taken to prepare him well, enough that the third finger was not a problem--that was all Nick.

Hearing the condom package being opened, Warrick took a deep breath and held it until he felt the head of Nick's cock nudging his entrance, then he exhaled slowly as Nick slid inside.

Nick let out a string of curses as he buried himself to the hilt and Warrick reveled in the burn that barely lasted long enough to register. He moaned incoherently as Nick began to move with that same deliberateness he'd been using all along. "Oh God..." and unlike the curses, that choked voice was Nick as well.

Warrick knew Nick was giving him plenty of time to adjust, but he was more than ready. In order to get his point across, he began to raise himself on his arms again, but barely got halfway up before Nick shoved his face back into the pillow.

"Stay down," Nick growled. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He picked up the pace and Warrick eagerly moved in time with the hard rhythm.

It wasn't anything like he'd imagined it would be with Nick, but damn, he could really get into this.

"This is what you wanted, huh, Rick?" Nick grunted in time with his thrusts. "You wanted to be my bitch?"

Days later, Warrick would hate himself for getting so completely lost in his own pleasure that he stopped worrying about Nick. At the moment, though, he just assumed Nick had to be enjoying himself, because God knew he was giving one hell of a ride.

With Nick pounding against his prostate the way he was, Warrick barely had to touch his own leaking cock before he was coming so hard everything went black except for the stars exploding behind his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Nick's own cry of release.

He collapsed on the bed. The only intrusion into his blissful haze was when Nick pulled out, prompting a hiss of discomfort. His eyes closed, Warrick listened as Nick flopped down beside him, then let himself drift for a while before reaching out. His hand fell on Nick's arm which tensed briefly, but then gradually relaxed as he stroked his thumb along the skin. With a sigh, Warrick allowed himself to float off to sleep.

Warrick didn't know how long he slept, but when he awoke, he was alone in the bed.

"Nick?" Warrick sat up, grimacing slightly as he did. It wasn't so much at the twinge in his lower body--that was like a pleasant reminder of a good workout--but at the cold, clammy patches on the sheets. Usually one of them cleaned up a bit afterward, but he had been too out of it and supposed Nick had, too. It gave a whole new meaning to rode hard and put away wet. "Nick?"

When there was still no answer, Warrick got out of bed and quickly pulled on boxers and his robe before going in search of the Texan. The bathroom was dark, and a quick look in his bedroom proved it to be empty.

Turning to the living room, he immediately saw Nick on the couch. For a split-second he nearly called for Nick to come back to bed, but then Nick's posture really registered with him. Nick was fully dressed again--pajamas, robes, even socks, but was huddled at one end of the couch as though he was freezing. It was so completely at odds with the late afternoon sun that filled the house that Warrick felt chilled as well.

"Nick." As he moved closer, Warrick could see tear tracks on Nick's cheeks and his heart stuttered. Although Nick had choked up several times, up until this point in his recovery, he'd never been reduced to actual tears. "Nicky..." This wasn't the hysterical crying that had been a natural outlet after hours of fear and pain and near-suffocation--Nick wasn't making a sound, he was just sitting silently as tears trailed down his cheeks. Something about it made Warrick approach him slowly, carefully, "Baby, what is it?"

Nick's only reply was to close his eyes.

Warrick didn't sit as close as he wanted to, but close enough to touch if it seemed like a good idea. "Was it a flashback?"

"I wish."

A horrible feeling began churning again in the pit of Warrick's stomach. "Nick, I thought...I thought it would be a way to--"

"I know."

"What...went wrong?"

"I did."

Rarely had Warrick felt so utterly clueless. He still couldn't get his head wrapped around how or when exactly things had derailed. Even worse was the complete lack of inflection in Nick's voice and of expression on Nick's face--both were much more frightening than his tears. "Why...you didn't do anything wrong."

Nick didn't answer, but his brow wrinkled slightly.

Warrick recognized his disbelief and was relieved to know at least a little of what was going on in Nick's head at the moment. "Nick...okay, you got a little carried away, but you didn't--you didn't hurt me. Is that what you were worried about?"

"Yes...no. I don't know." Nick still hadn't raised his eyes from the couch cushion.

"I mean, it...wasn't what I expected from you, but--" Warrick stopped there. The last thing he wanted to say now was that he'd enjoyed it when Nick so obviously hadn't. "--it wasn't anything bad," he finished lamely.

"And if it had been? What if you had wanted me to stop?"

"Nicky, it's okay. I didn't want you to stop."

"That's not the point," Nick gritted out.

Warrick tried not to let that familiar feeling of frustration overwhelm him. He knew that wasn't really the point--he just wished it was because it would have been so much easier to deal with.

"If...if you had wanted me to stop..." Nick's voice hitched. "I'm not sure I would have."

The words "of course you would have" almost escaped, but Warrick managed to censor them, knowing Nick would dismiss a blanket statement. Instead, he went with, "I never worried about that, Nicky."

"You didn't worry because you didn't think I would have or because you think you would have been able to stop me?"

All sorts of alarm bells started going off, and Warrick knew he had to tread very carefully. Instinct told him the question had little to do with what had just happened between them. "I just don't think it's in you to do that to someone."

"At one time I thought so, too, but now..." Nick raised his eyes, but only to fasten them on a point past Warrick's shoulder.

Warrick didn't know what Nick was seeing but knew it wasn't the framed photos on the wall. "Nick, you're still you."

Nick shook his head slowly. "I don't think I am. Not anymore."

No. No no no no. Warrick grabbed Nick by the shoulders, pure fear making him abandon his usual caution about how he touched Nick, and pulled him until they were nose to nose. "Nicky, no one is taking you away from me again. Not even you."

Nick finally met his eyes, looking at him with such desperation that Warrick's throat closed and he couldn't have said any more even if there was anything else to say. He just gathered Nick in as close as he possibly could and held on tight.

Almost as tightly as Nick was hanging onto him.

Warrick had no idea how long they sat in silence, before Nick said, "Tell me again."

Even though he wasn't sure what Nick was asking for, Warrick felt a surge of relief that Nick was asking at all--it meant he hadn't given up entirely. "Tell you what, Nicky? That I don't believe for a minute that a couple of punks can change who you are at your core? Okay--I don't believe it. Not unless you let them. You're too strong for that, Nicky. I know you are."

"They already have, Warrick."

"No. No way."

Nick didn't refute his words, but Warrick could tell he wasn't getting through.

"You didn't have a choice before, but now you do. Don't let them win." Warrick wasn't sure what he was saying anymore, but he felt the need to keep talking. He couldn't stand to hear that defeated tone in Nick's voice. "Yeah, you're different now. Hell, I'm different now, too, but I'm still me. And you're still you--you got me? Who else could you be?"

A shudder went through Nick's body, "I'm tired of feeling like a victim. I won't let myself be a victim anymore."

That's when Warrick caught on. "And you think by trying to not be their victim, you're turning out like them instead? Is that what you're worried about?" He searched for the right words, and oddly enough, his mind went back to the job. What Nick needed right now was proof. Hard, brutal, irrefutable evidence. "Tell me what you saw them doing, Nick. Did you see them worrying about whether or not they hurt you afterward?"

"Warrick--" Nick sounded more shocked that Warrick was bringing it up than upset by the reminder.

"Did they make themselves sick over the possibility of inflicting pain? Did they?"

"No."

"You'll never be like them, Nicky. That worry shouldn't even be on your radar."

"I won't be a victim."

"It's not like you only have two options. And if you let yourself go too far one way or the other, then no--that wouldn't be you. And then they win." Warrick had no idea if his words were making any sense whatsoever--he barely understood them himself.

Oddly enough, Nick did, but he didn't seem to find them comforting. "And you don't think that's already happened? They made me crawl so deep inside my own head that I didn't know who I was and you don't think they've already won? I'm so goddamned messed up that I'm someone else entirely!"

"That's not true," Warrick insisted.

"Stop saying that!" Nick pulled away to glare at him. "You don't know! Whoever I was before is gone."

"Nope. Still there." Strangely, the more he said it, the more certain Warrick was of the fact.

"How can you be so sure?" Nick challenged.

"Because I could never be this crazy about anyone but you." And Jesus, that was a lot scarier to say than he ever imagined it would be. Especially in the face of the deafening silence that fell.

Finally, Nick spoke. "Well, that's not a fair argument."

Warrick let out a near-hysterical laugh. He knew that tone, but hadn't heard it in ages. It was Nick disgruntled because he was unable to think of a suitable comeback. Nick grudgingly conceding a point. He looked into the dark eyes, still wounded, still haunted, but no longer half-wild, half-hollow with pain and despair. "Don't you believe me, Nicky?"

"I believe you," Nick whispered, moving into the embrace again.

Just before Nick's head dipped to tuck into the crook of his neck, Warrick saw something else in those dark eyes.

Hope.

One way or another, Nick always associated Warrick's voice with warmth, although the degree could vary, depending on what he said and how he said it. There was the flush of embarrassment that came more often than he would have liked in the face of Warrick's teasing, the fever of competition, the occasional blaze of anger, and the most recent addition--that of fiery lust, but this was the best kind of warmth. This was a steady, unceasing glow that seeped into his bones, banishing the cold and darkness brought on by memories of a motel room.

It was ironic that thoughts of the motel room inevitably left him freezing, considering that the room had always been stuffy, sweaty and stifling.

For over an hour, Nick stayed on the couch, soaking up heat from Warrick's body and voice, but eventually a glance at the clock told him they'd have to move soon. "We should probably order in for supper, unless you actually want to try cooking something."

"Picture that," Warrick snorted. "What do you feel like?"

The thought of food made his stomach churn at the moment. "I'm not hungry. Just order for yourself, unless you just want to grab something on your way to work."

"I'm not going to work tonight."

Nick wasn't surprised to hear that, but he wasn't happy about it either. "Don't, Rick. You've already missed way too much work because of me."

"Don't worry about it."

Not much chance of that. "Warrick, there's no reason for you call in."

"Are you kidding me?"

Nick wondered if Warrick realized that staying would negate everything he had just said. "Rick, either you think I can handle this or you don't." He held up a hand when Warrick opened his mouth, "And before you tell me again that I don't have to handle this alone, I know that. But I also can't have you holding my hand the whole way through. Either you meant what you said to me and there's no reason for you to stay, or you really don't think I can come back from this and you were just humoring me."

"Nick--"

"Tell me honestly, Rick. Do you think I need a suicide watch? Do you think I'm cowardly enough to do something like that?"

Warrick sighed, and Nick suspected it was because he was running out of reasons, "No. I know you wouldn't."

"Then go to work. We have phones. I know where you are. You know where I am. It's not like either of us are going to be unreachable."

They argued about it a bit more, but Nick felt he couldn't back down on this point. Even though they had more or less talked themselves in circles about his reaction, about his fears, the thing had stood out the most to Nick was Warrick's unwavering belief that he could get through this--that he would get through this. It was easy enough to believe with Warrick right there beside him saying everything he needed to hear, but Nick knew he needed to be able to believe it without Warrick making him believe.

He had to prove to himself that even after the worst he thought could happen, after wandering though his darkest fears and emotions, guided only by the pull of Warrick's voice, he could maintain his place alone. To prove that he could hold off that ever-encroaching forest of shadow and doubt all by himself. On the other hand, he would feel better doing all that tonight instead of days later. Tonight, when he still had the warmth of Warrick's fierce belief to sustain him.

Eventually, he did win the argument and Warrick went to work, although Warrick waited until the last possible minute to leave.

It only took about a half-hour for Nick to begin regretting his decision.

He hadn't imagined it would be this difficult to keep his mind from traveling down that dangerous path where he'd been before. Back to that frightening place where the only choices he could see were victim or victimizer, and that terrifying idea that being the victimizer might be preferable. The thought of doing to someone else even a fraction of what had been done to him was loathsome, yet people obviously got used to doing such things, perhaps he would too. And that thought only inspired greater horror. The real question was whether hating himself for doing it would be better than these constant feelings of weakness and helplessness.

Finally, Nick got his laptop out, booting it up before settling back on the couch with it. If he was still stuck keeping a diary, or a journal, or whatever anyone wanted to call it, he might as well keep the proper, all-encompassing one that Dr. Werne had originally wanted. The "dream-journal" had been the result of much heel-digging from Nick and several concessions from the doctor.

Nick had never though of himself as any more or less introspective than the average person, but lately he felt like he'd been living almost entirely inside his own head. For all that he was considered more emotionally-driven than most of his colleagues, he was still a scientist. He could deal with maybes or possiblys or could-bes when they were part of a theory he could test with an experiment, but not when it came to his state of mind and definitely not when it came to his future.

He wasn't able to do it before, but now that the majority of his memories had returned, he needed to return to his usual mind set and tackle these problems in a more effective way.

Line 'em up, knock 'em down and put 'em away.

Taking a deep breath, he started to type.

It took a lot to surprise Dr. Anna Werne. That was one of the first things Nick discovered about her and he suspected she prided herself on her ability to remain serene no matter what her patients might reveal. A large part of it was that she was good enough at what she did that she could anticipate certain things about her patients. Nick had quickly come to rely on that unflappable, unshockable calm.

That didn't mean he didn't enjoy rendering her speechless--at least for a moment--when he handed her eight pages. The most he'd ever brought in for his "dream journal" was three and that was after having skipped a session.

She recovered quickly, though, and was pleased with what she saw. "So you decided to go with an actual report after all."

Nick grinned, "It was easier than trying to remember what needed to be brought up in a session."

Dr. Werne flipped through them, "These are actually more like notes than a report or journal, but they're still--you've got things referenced. And categorized as though--there's an equation." She looked at him in bemusement.

"Yeah, I was just messing around."

Her eyes darted back down briefly. "There's more than one."

"Yeah, well..." he shrugged and barely managed to keep from rubbing the back of his neck.

With a hint of a smile, she went back to the beginning and looked through them again, nodding all the while. She read aloud all the things Nick had never spoken of during their sessions, telling him which ones she'd anticipated and noting those she hadn't realized.

Nick was ready to dive right in and get to work, but Dr. Werne was more interested in what had led up to the eight pages, and they spent most of the session discussing that.

They didn't dive in during the next session, either. In fact, they didn't dive in at all. Instead, the pace of their sessions remained the same, with Dr. Werne usually putting the brakes on whenever Nick tried to plow through his issues.

It was just over a week before Nick realized why she insisted on maintaining that same pace. Just over a week for the exhilaration of approaching things differently and discussing things he hadn't before to evaporate. Just over a week during which he met Catherine and Lindsey twice; went out for dinner and a movie with Greg, then Sara; had coffee with Grissom; went out to Warrick's favorite jazz club with him; had breakfast with the lab techs; and spoke to his family nearly every day. That was how long it took for it to really sink in that nothing had actually changed.

Nick didn't even realize he'd expected things to change until Dr. Werne asked him about it and he found that on some level he had expected everything to go away if he worked hard enough. It was a ridiculous notion, and Nick knew that. Yet there was still a sense of disappointment--even anger--that despite his best efforts, it was still there. He had been held prisoner, raped and tortured for ten days, and that was never going to go away.

Dr. Werne called it a bargaining tactic, which Nick always thought was a stage of grief. It was, she said, but it applied in other situations as well. She asked if he felt cheated that despite his hard work and effort, what happened to him still remained. Nick reluctantly admitted that he did feel cheated and felt stupid for feeling cheated.

A classic reaction, she assured him.

Nick wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved that his behavior was considered "textbook."

Before long, though, that stopped mattering very much, as did everything else. The depression that Nick thought he had shaken off returned full force and this time with the added knowledge that he was never going to get back to where he was before he woke up in that motel room.

Dr. Werne had obviously been expecting the relapse, because that's when she decided to begin tackling things in the "report" Nick now regarded as useless. She reminded him over and over that even if it wasn't the turning point he'd thought it should be, it was still a major step.

Nick believed her, but that didn't stop him from cancelling most of the plans he'd made during his fit of optimism. His friends were puzzled, but respectful. His family was worried, but didn't object when told that phone calls would probably be infrequent again.

And Warrick...Warrick was trying. Most of the time he was successful, but Nick knew it had to be difficult for him to constantly readapt. One day Nick was happy to go out for dinner or willing for a little fooling around and the next he couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.

Not that he ever had to worry about Warrick getting tired of it and leaving. Nick never worried much on that point, knowing Warrick would never think of deserting him while he was in need. What he did worry about was Warrick getting the short end of the deal. In the past few days it had crossed Nick's mind that he should break up with Warrick and spare him all this, but he never considered it for very long. Not only was it the last thing he wanted, but he knew that even if he did call it quits, Warrick would stay anyway, under the claim of friendship.

Besides, lately, Warrick seemed much less edgy. No doubt due in large part to the fact that Nick was no longer very interested in pushing and testing the limits of their physical relationship and in turn, Warrick didn't have that constant frustration to deal with.

It wasn't so much fear on Nick's part as disinterest--the same disinterest he felt for most things around him. Most it was just kissing and cuddling with some making out--the occasional hand job was about as much as he felt like doing these days, but Warrick appeared to be perfectly happy with that. Actually, Warrick seemed most happy that Nick no longer had any problem with being touched. At least Nick assumed he was happy about it since he was touching Nick as much as possible.

And Nick definitely did not have a problem with that. Lately, the only time he felt truly content was when he woke with Warrick wrapped around him or vice versa.

As days passed, though, the times when his dull mood would lift for a few days became more frequent, and during those times, Nick tried to get out with his friends as much as possible. He still hadn't returned to Michaela's model and passed time at home sleeping or in front of the television. Reading was something he'd abandoned as well--like the model, the idea of taking on an entire book just seemed like too much of an effort.

The one thing Nick made the most determined effort to resume was working out. He hadn't been to the gym since first sinking into his depression, which was the longest he'd been without a regular exercise routine since tenth grade. It wasn't as though he'd gained much weight--he hadn't been eating much during that time, either, but there were other factors to consider. Even without discussing it with Dr. Werne, Nick knew that regular exercise improved a person's mood, but until she pointed it out, he hadn't thought about how much worse it might be for someone as dedicated to keeping in shape as he had been.

His first workout had been a week after handing in his eight-page report, and even though he'd kept it light--by his standards--his muscles were screaming at him the next day. He kept at it, though, and after nearly two weeks, he was getting closer to his old workout routine. His depression hadn't lifted as much as he'd hoped, but Dr. Werne told him to be patient.

His gym was a 24-hour one, but Nick soon found that if he went just before sunrise, it was nearly empty. People coming in before their 9-to-5 jobs hadn't arrived yet, and the night owls had already been and gone. It also gave him plenty of time to get home, shower and even take a quick nap before Warrick got home from work--he wasn't sleeping as much as he used to, but still easily put in over ten hours a day.

He was just settling in for a quick nap after his latest workout when the phone rang. It was Warrick calling to say that they were in the middle of a hot case, and he was putting in some overtime. Nick assured Warrick he was fine and wished him luck with the case. After he hung up, he stretched out on the sofa, turning the television to ESPN. Warrick felt more comfortable working overtime and doubles now and that was something of a relief for Nick, since he'd always felt guilty about affecting Warrick's job. His only real problem was that it constantly reminded him how much he missed work.

ESPN didn't hold his attention very long, and Nick dozed again until he heard his mail being dropped off. Stretching and scrubbing at his hair, he wandered out to get it.

Immediately, a large envelope addressed to him from the crime lab caught his eyes. It was fairly thick, and Nick rolled his eyes as he opened it. More of those endless insurance forms, no doubt. He read over the letter that came with it, then frowned and read it again to make sure he wasn't misinterpreting the words. Disbelief mingled with anger as he flipped through the rest of the contents.

He had scrabbled the papers back into the envelope and was opening his truck door before common sense intervened. Forcing himself to take several deep breaths, he returned to the house. Rushing off half-cocked and demanding answers--especially in his grungy old sweats--was only going to make the situation worse.

Nick read the letter once more to be absolutely certain, then picked up the phone.

Greg initialed the last seal, packed away the box of evidence and set off in search of the other members of the graveyard shift still in the lab. He, Warrick, Archie and Hodges had all put in overtime working the kidnaping, but with the victim now safe and sound, instead of being tired, Greg was hoping to talk at least some of his co-workers into a celebratory breakfast beer or two. He didn't see Archie anywhere, but both Warrick and Hodges were in the locker room. "Hey," he said as he joined them. "Anyone up for breakfast?"

Before anyone could answer, Warrick's phone rang. He glanced at the display and answered it. "Hey. I was just finishing--what? Whoa," he frowned. "What? Okay, wait....wait. Nicky, slow down. What?"

Unease immediately enveloped Greg, as it always did at the first sign of trouble for Nick. He glanced over at Hodges and saw the trace tech was also watching Warrick--if he didn't know better, Greg would say the guy actually looked concerned.

"What the hell are you--Ecklie? I didn't see him. I think he's on swing hours right now....Director? You mean Lambert? Of course he's not here. You know he barely uses this office, he's always at the one in--I don't know if he's there. He's always out of town....Nick, stop. A lawyer? Why--what kind of package?"

Greg felt his stomach begin to twist slightly. "Oh, fuck," he heard Hodges mutter.

"Well, I guess they think you might want to--what? Are you sure--well, they can't do that, Nicky....Just wait and talk to Ecklie first, and Grissom--is Grissom's name on..? No, I didn't think so either, but--okay, I'm on my way home now. Calm down, okay? You've got rights. They can't just do something like this."

Suddenly chilled, Greg he looked at Hodges, expecting to see a smug expression, but instead he only saw cold anger.

"Okay? Yeah. Don't worry about it, there's no way, okay?...Yeah, I'm on my way." Warrick snapped his phone shut.

He didn't really want to know, but Greg still felt compelled to ask. "What's going on? Is Nick okay?"

"Yeah...no..." Warrick pulled his jacket out of his locker. "I don't know what the hell is going on. He got a letter from the Lab Director, along with the offer of a severance package."

Greg's stomach abruptly plummeted to socks. "Severance..?"

"Yeah. Which isn't really a big deal. Considering what happened, the lab is bound to offer him one. I told him to just turn it down, but he says that the letter is basically telling him he'd better sign it."

"But...they can't do that," Greg said hopefully.

"Well, no, technically--legally they can't," Warrick closed his locker door. "But there are plenty of ways around that."

Once Warrick had left, Hodges turned his glare on Greg. "Happy now? I told you we should have warned Nick. But noooo, you thought it was just gossip."

"They have no right to do it," Greg protested weakly.

"And that always stops people," Hodges retorted. "Jesus, where the hell do you work?"

Any reply Greg was about to make died when Warrick appeared again. Greg took one look at his expression and almost made a run for it.

"You knew about this?"

Warrick didn't take the time to say more than "I want to talk to you later" to a very nervous-looking Greg before leaving the lab. His main concern was getting home and finding out exactly what was going on with this severance package.

It wasn't that he doubted what Nick was telling him--he just didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that the lab, the department, the city they had both worked their asses off for would not only kick a man when he was down, but attempt to steam roll him as well.

Nick had been so agitated on the phone that Warrick wasn't sure what state he would be in, and didn't see him when he walked into the house. "Nick?" he called, and was a bit startled when Nick suddenly stood from where he'd been crouched on the floor. "Nicky..."

Grabbing a stack of papers, Nick thrust them into Warrick's outstretched hand. "Take a look. Tell me what you see." Then he hunkered down near his bookshelves again.

Warrick walked around the coffee table that blocked Nick from his line of sight. Nick was rummaging through some wooden boxes--boxes that Warrick always assumed were just the decorative bottom of the bookshelves, but turned out to be nicely camouflaged storage. "What are you looking for?"

"You know all those policy manuals they give when you first start? I don't know if anyone ever looks at them again after the first week."

"Except maybe Ecklie," Warrick muttered, and began flipping through the papers.

Nick didn't say anything, but the sound he made was not flattering.

Warrick sat on the couch and began reading through the papers.

...understand that it may be difficult to return to work...to avoid any further stress... beneficial to all concerned...absolves Las Vegas Crime Lab of all responsibility for injury...will not follow a course of legal action at a later date...

The first thing he noticed was that the dollar amount was more generous than average for a county employee. There was nothing that could be considered blatant coercion, though. "Why do you need the policy books?"

"Because I'm pretty sure it'll be the first thing Joss asks for."

"Joss?"

"My sister," Nick answered absently, pulling out another box.

"I know she's your sister. Why that one?"

"She's the civil rights lawyer."

"Civil rights?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure if this really falls under a civil rights issue, but she's the one who would know the most about anything like this. She's also least likely to mention it to Mom or Cisco."

Warrick felt his lips twitch in spite of the situation. "Does the lab even know that you have..." he did the quick calculation in his head. "Five lawyers in your immediate family? Well, four and a judge."

"Six and a judge," Nick corrected, not looking up.

"Six?"

"Susannah used to practice family law before she worked for corrections, and Meredith specialized in business law."

Another calculation. "That leaves you and one other sister."

"Adrienne has a Doctor of Juridical Science. More the research side."

Warrick shook his head, marveling again that Nick had the strength of character to step away from such a strong tradition in order to be his own man. It only made the idea of anyone trying to stop him from working in his chosen field all the more infuriating. "Well, then you've got your pick of lawyers if you need one."

Nick finally paused in his hunt and looked at Warrick. "I have no idea if I'll need one, but I don't want to go charging off. And I'm sure as hell not going to do nothing while--"

"No, hey," Warrick held up his hand. "I'm with you on this one."

"What do you think?" Nick nodded toward the papers Warrick was holding.

"I think they're trying to cover all their bases by wording things very carefully." Then Hodges' words came back to him, "...things like loopholes and people who know how to use them."

"What?"

"It's something Hodges said..." Warrick tried to remember. "He and Greg were arguing about something. Greg said something about rights, then Hodges said something about loopholes."

"They knew? So... how long ago was this?"

"A month, at least."

"So they must have been planning this for--" Nick stopped, then groaned in dismay. "The release. Jesus...and I was so happy to sign the damn thing!"

"You think they're going to use--oh, that's just wrong." Warrick made an effort to loosen his jaw--he'd been clenching it off and on since he'd heard.

Nick went back to looking through the boxes with a renewed energy.

"What about filing a grievance?" Warrick suggested.

"Would that work?" Nick gave him a questioning frown. "I mean, isn't that mostly for on-the-job stuff? I don't know if that would apply if you've got a problem with the higher ups. Besides, Ecklie handles them, I think."

Warrick snorted. So much for that idea.

"You said he's working swing hours this week, so I'm gonna try and catch him as soon as he gets in."

"Hell, I wouldn't even wait if I were you. I'd find out where he lives."

Nick gave him a wry smile. "Probably not a good idea if they're concerning themselves with my psych eval."

"Fuck," Warrick said, because no other word really applied. The more he thought about the whole thing the angrier he got.

"I don't know where the hell it is," Nick shoved another box back into place with a sigh.

"You can get another copy of it from Personnel," Warrick reminded him. "Have you talked to Grissom or Catherine yet?"

"No, I've only known since just before I called you." Running his hands through his hair, Nick sighed again. "You don't think I'm reading too much into it, do you?"

"No," Warrick looked over the papers one last time before dropping them on the coffee table. He felt the urge to wipe his hands. "There's nothing anyone could pinpoint, but overall it read like the nice-guy routine before they play hardball."

"Yeah, that's what it seemed like to me, too." Nick rubbed his eyes tiredly, "This sucks."

Wanting to take Nick's mind off it, at least for a little while, Warrick got up and walked over, holding out his hand. "Look, you're not gonna be able to do anything until after you throw this offer back in Ecklie's face. Maybe he'll back down once he sees you aren't going to."

"You really believe that?" Nick took his hand and allowed Warrick to pull his to his feet.

"Nope." Another slight tug was all it took to bring Nick into his arms.

"Me neither," Nick let out another sigh as he wrapped his arms around Warrick's waist and settled comfortably against him.

"Did you have any breakfast?" Warrick asked, knowing Nick didn't bother much about meals when he was alone lately.

"Nah. Wasn't hungry."

"Well, it's almost noon. Do you want to--"

"Order something?" Nick shook his head with a slight smile. "No thanks. I don't know about you, but I've been eating way too much take-out lately. Besides, I'm still not sure I believe that you only know how to make sandwiches. You telling me you can't work a can opener?"

"Why don't you teach me how to cook?" Warrick suggested, dipping his head to nuzzle into Nick's neck. He grinned when he heard a soft huff of laughter.

"Is that supposed to convince me to make you some lunch?"

"Would you, Nicky?" Warrick asked, pressing gentle kisses against Nick's throat.

"Oh, man..." Nick's sighed again, only this time with pleasure and amusement. "You think you can suave your way into anything, don't you?" He finally pulled away and gave Warrick a teasing grin, "Soup and sandwiches. Try to keep up. Take notes if you have to."

He didn't knock. He didn't say hello. He just slammed the severance package on Conrad Ecklie's desk.

Warrick had done a fairly good job of distracting him during lunch, but all it had taken was the drive over for Nick to get himself riled up again and now he was spoiling for a fight.

Ecklie jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion, but recovered himself quickly. "Signed?" he asked mildly.

"Hell, no."

"I didn't think so," Ecklie shrugged, and left it at that.

"Then why make the offer?" Nick demanded.

"To give you the chance to accept compensation."

"You can't force me to quit my job."

"You've suffered a major trauma--two major traumas--in the course of your job. I'm surprised you'd want to come back."

"That's not your decision to make."

"It is if it affects your ability to do your job, or damages the credibility of this lab."

For a moment, Nick was so angry he couldn't get any words out. "You can't possibly claim it's affected my ability to do my job--not until I've returned to my job. I returned to work after my first trauma and I don't think there were any complaints about my performance."

Ecklie gave him a long, contemplative look. "Perhaps you don't remember them."

Nick's mouth went dry and his voice fled, but that was fine, because he had no intention of lowering himself to actually ask.

The silence stretched on for over a minute, then Ecklie said, "Close the door, please. Then sit down."

A bit thrown by the "please," Nick did as requested.

"You're correct, by the way. Your performance was never called into question."

"But that wasn't your point," Nick gritted out.

"The part that memory plays in a CSI's job is immeasurable."

"There's nothing wrong with my memory," Nick insisted. Conrad gave him a mildly condescending look. "Test me. You'll find that my short-term memory is as good as it ever was and my long-term memory isn't much worse than average." It felt good to be able to say that. Nick had been so busy dealing with the trauma of his captivity that he hadn't had much time to enjoy the fact that for the most part, his memory of the last fifteen years was now intact. Nine times out of ten when he reached back for a memory, he found it. Just like anyone else. It made him able to add boldly, "Again, that's something you can't determine until I've returned to work. And frankly, I doubt there will be any problems in that area."

"Do you foresee any problems with your objectivity?" Ecklie inquired, not seeming the slightest bit phased by Nick's words. "Considering you've suffered a mental breakdown."

"Mental breakdown?" Nick tried to stay calm. "Look, what I had was brought on by--"

"Because it will be a mental breakdown once any defense attorney worth his salt gets hold of it."

The words were like a blow, and threw Nick's thoughts into disarray. He knew they would try to use Dr. Werne's evaluation to their benefit, but thought it would be a for-your-own-good kind of deal. He hadn't imagined it being used against him like this. "Any testimony...my credibility...oh, God."

"The Director is always concerned about the reputation of this lab and doesn't want to risk anything that would damage our solve or conviction rates."

Nick was at a complete loss.

"The main concerns of Director Lambert are the solve rates, the budget, the lab's reputation."

And advancing his career. "I can take legal action."

"No doubt that would cause some concern," there was a hint of derision in Ecklie's voice. "But such cases rarely make the news, and I imagine that's one of the few things that would really worry the Director."

"Look, I'm not interested in dragging the press into this, okay?"

"Well, good. Because if the press took this story and ran with it, it could be disastrous for Director Lambert."

Nick frowned. Ecklie almost sounded...exasperated.

"As for that day-to-day running of the lab--that's my concern, not Director Lambert's. We are short-staffed right now, and it turns out that only one of the CSI-III's we've brought in is suitable. I'm being pressured to hire a CSI-I to fill the other slot, which would save on a salary. Although, overall, the training will probably cost more."

Nick could only stare in disbelief. Ecklie actually had the nerve to sit there and complain about his problems?

"And, I'll admit that in the past I may not have given lab morale the consideration it deserved, but it's been fluctuating badly over the last two years. It took a major blow when the county refused to pay your ransom, and I imagine that if word got around you were being forced out of your job after all you'd been through, it would plummet."

Okay, this was just plain weird. It almost sounded as though...

"But, of course, whatever I think, Director Lambert has the final word."

Dingdingdingding.

"Is there anything else?" Ecklie asked, picking up the severance package. "If not, you can take this and go."

"I don't need that," Nick said, standing.

"I don't need it cluttering up my desk," Ecklie continued to hold it up until Nick took it. "But I better not hear about it falling into the hands of some reporter."

There was no longer any doubt in Nick's mind. "That will be up to my lawyer, if I decide to consult one."

"Well, make sure to pass along my warning."

"Absolutely."

Nick sat at the table and fiddled with the skeleton of Michaela's buggy while he waited for Warrick to finish getting ready for work. He had called Grissom and Catherine as soon as he got back from his meeting with Ecklie, and was supposed to meet them an hour before shift started. Although he'd planned to take his own truck, Warrick convinced him it wasn't necessary, suggesting they drive in together. Warrick pointed out that it wouldn't be much trouble for him to catch a ride back home with someone, which was true, but Nick suspected it would be Warrick driving him home as well.

Because he knew how difficult it had been for Warrick to stay behind and wait when he went in to see Ecklie, Nick agreed. Considering that Warrick was just as angry as Nick, if not angrier, there was no telling what would have happened. Usually when one of them flew off the handle, the other was able to keep at least somewhat calm. That wasn't the case this time, and things could have gone very wrong.

When he got home from his meeting with Ecklie, Nick had been far too wound up to sleep, but he wanted Warrick to get at least some rest before his shift began, so after telling Warrick about everything and making some calls, Nick suggested they crash for a little while before work. Warrick did manage to fall into a light doze eventually, while Nick, resting his head on Warrick's chest, turned the situation over and over.

Warrick was dubious about Ecklie's intentions, but he was all for Nick going to the press. Nick was a bit surprised by that, since normally Warrick didn't think much more of reporters than he did of lawyers.

Nick told him that he wouldn't be talking to the press until he hired a lawyer, and he wouldn't hire a lawyer until he spoke to Joss and he wouldn't be speaking to Joss until after he talked to Grissom and Catherine. What Nick didn't say, what he reflected on while nestled next to Warrick, was that he hoped that simply the threat of press and a lawsuit would be enough to make Director Lambert back down.

Then, of course, there was the whole question of whether he wanted to go back under such a cloud. He didn't doubt that his co-workers would be supportive, but it could be very difficult doing his job knowing that the Director was hoping to get rid of him at the first opportunity. Of course, the Director was rarely around so it might not be too much of a problem.

His thoughts were interrupted when Warrick emerged from his bedroom. "Ready to go?"

They stuck to their usual teasing banter on the drive to the lab, for which Nick was grateful. The whole severance thing was going to be occupying enough of his time as it was.

The meeting with Grissom and Catherine was relatively brief, taken up mostly by Nick's recounting of his conversation with Ecklie and outlining of his plans--such as they were. In truth, there wasn't a great deal his immediate supervisors could do, except vouch for his ability.

Catherine had already tried, though. She hadn't managed to see Director Lambert, but did meet with Ecklie. And while she insisted it was a purely professional conversation, Nick suspected Ecklie was missing a layer or two of skin. Catherine was perfectly capable of tearing someone to bits without raising her voice--she could even do it while speaking in a very pleasant tone. In fact, she was usually deadliest when she brought out that very pleasant tone.

She did confirm Nick's initial impression--that Ecklie didn't want him out. But, she added, on the other hand, Ecklie wasn't about to risk his career by openly defying the Director or helping Nick.

When it sounded like Catherine was almost apologizing for not getting more, Nick was quick to assure her he didn't want her to do more. That he didn't want either of them risking their jobs over this. His words were mostly for Catherine, since she was more likely than Grissom to try the maneuvering necessary in bureaucratic waters. It required an adaptability that was one of Catherine's strengths.

"I'm not about to hire and train someone new for a graveyard position when I already have a perfectly good CSI in the spot."

And tenacity was one of Grissom's strengths. Director Lambert would get more than he bargained for if Grissom decided to seriously dig his heels in on this.

Not that Nick expected either of them to fight this battle for him--it was his job and his fight--but it was a good feeling knowing they were both so firmly in his corner.

He promised to keep them updated--"at least once a day," Catherine insisted. For a split-second Nick was tempted to tell her she sounded word-for-word like his Mom and said good-bye before he got himself into some serious trouble.

There were still twenty-minutes before shift began, and the graveyard staff was trickling in, so when Nick went in search of Warrick, he didn't make much progress. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but to Nick's relief, no on seemed to have heard about the severance offer--surprising considering the way gossip flew around this lab.

He was just leaving the ballistics lab after a quick "hey" to Bobby when Warrick caught up with him. "You all done?"

"Yep."

"Not quite," Warrick corrected, jerking his head toward the trace lab.

Through the glass walls, Nick could see Hodges prepping for his shift. He wasn't angry at Hodges or Greg--exactly. It's not like the situation was their fault. The fact that they hadn't told him just left a sour taste in his mouth and invariably left him feeling similar to the way he had when he discovered Grissom and Archie had kept the recording from him.

As the walked into the trace lab, Hodges looked up, then leaned back against a table, crossing his arms. "I wondered when you'd stroll in here."

Nick had to hand it to the guy, Hodges looked completely nonplused, even bored, despite the fact that he had two very ticked off CSIs in front of him. Especially considering one of those CSIs was Warrick. "I want to know why--I mean, did you find out...where did--were you told about--"

Hodges raised his eyebrows as if Nick was speaking Mandarin--badly.

Taking a deep breath, Nick finally settled on a single question instead of trying to ask five at once. "How long have you known about it?"

"Well, that depends," Hodges shrugged. "I first overheard Conrad discussing it with Lambert when I attended that budget meeting with him. Lambert seemed concerned about the...repercussions of you coming back to the job."

"You knew it was about me?" Nick asked, irritation flashing through him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"At the time you were still in Texas, and we didn't even know if you were coming back," Hodges replied. Warrick's glare intensified at his words, but Hodges acknowledged it with only a slight roll of his eyes. "And anyway, nothing was definite. It sounded to me like Conrad was talking him out of it. About a month later, I was outside Conrad's office and heard Lambert inside. I couldn't hear much, but I did make out that Lambert wanted to find a way to keep you from coming back."

"And you didn't say anything to them?" Warrick demanded.

"Well, I did consider popping my head in and saying 'hey, would you mind firing me for eavesdropping?' but I didn't want to be rude."

"Since when?" Warrick muttered.

"Of course you couldn't barge in on them," Nick agreed, although he knew that was exactly what Warrick would have done. "But why you didn't you tell me at that point?"

"I asked him not to."

Nick and Warrick turned to find Greg standing behind them.

"I honestly didn't think it was something they would really do. I told Hodges the last thing you needed was to be worrying about anything like that."

"Actually," Hodges corrected. "You told me to keep my damn mouth shut and not hassle Nick with stupid gossip."

Greg shot him an annoyed glance then turned back to Nick. "Seriously, I didn't think they could do something like this. I'm sorry."

Nick decided he had more important things to worry about that holding a grudge, especially considering Greg thought he was doing what was best. "I'm not sure knowing would have helped much anyway."

"I probably should have known better than to listen to Sanders," Hodges added. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Nick stifled a smile as Greg fired another glare in Hodges' direction, and accepted that that was as close to an apology as Hodges was likely to get.

"We'd better get going," Warrick nudged him.

"So are we cool?" Greg still looked worried.

"Yeah, G," Nick assured him. "We're fine." He looked at Hodges who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation and was sorting through his workload. "Same goes for you, Hodges."

"Then I suppose I can find the will to go on," Hodges replied without looking up.

Nick shook his head, but found that in the turmoil of the last couple of years, Hodges' consistency was actually a comfort.

On the ride home, Nick relayed most of his conversation with Grissom and Catherine without waiting for Warrick to ask, finally adding out loud his concern that they might involve themselves too much.

"Hell, Nicky, of course they're going to go to the mat for you," was Warrick's response. "We all would."

"I know you would. You already have, more than once."

Warrick shot him a look of disbelief, "Do you mean by looking for you? Man, you can't count that, it doesn't even--it's not even--you can't compare that. Come on."

"Still, what good does it do if everyone gets themselves in trouble on my account?"

"You know we all would."

"I know. So I don't need proof." Nick was grateful they had arrived at the house, because he was sure this was a point Warrick would argue forever. Before getting out, he leaned over to give Warrick what was supposed to be a quick kiss, only to have Warrick wrap a gentle hand around the back of his neck to prolong it. "You're gonna be late," Nick murmured against his lips.

"I'm already late," Warrick responded with a soft nibble.

"You're gonna be really late." They both let out regretful sighs as they parted. "Have a good night," Nick said, getting out of the truck.

He was in the house with his shoes and coat off before he remembered that he forgot to stop by personnel to pick up a copy of the policy manual. Grabbing a drink and his laptop, he settled onto the sofa, wondering where exactly to start, when he suddenly remembered the Crime Lab's website. There was probably a copy of the policies somewhere on it.

After spending well over an hour going aimlessly through any information that looked promising, Nick finally set his laptop aside. Maybe it would be better to wait until tomorrow after his appointment with Dr. Werne before he really got started.

He was stalling. He knew he was stalling. He hated that he was stalling, but he couldn't seem to help it.

This wasn't about whether or not he wanted his job back. There was absolutely no question about that. Even more than wanting his job back, he needed his job back--he felt that on a gut level.

What was really up for question was what he was willing to do to get his job back. He'd already been handed more than one option--hell, they'd practically been gift-wrapped, but he was leery about implementing either of them.

He wasn't sure what his friends would say when they found out he had no intention of involving the press. He could well imagine the words Warrick would be using, though, especially when he told him that not only was he not going to involve the press, if he could find any way around it, he wanted to avoid involving lawyers as well.

Nick knew Warrick might not even accept his reasoning once he explained it, but he owed Warrick the explanation nonetheless. As for everyone else, he would just tell them that he didn't want to make the lab look bad. That he wasn't about to risk doing something that could possibly smear his co-workers in the process.

That was truth.

Some of it, anyway.

Less than a week ago, Warrick would have been very pleased to get home to find Nick engrossed in his model buggy, but now he was more puzzled than anything. Apparently, Nick wasn't as engrossed as he usually was, anyway, because he rose when Warrick came in. "Hey."

"I figured I'd find you hunched over your laptop looking for ways to nail Lambert to the wall."

"Oh. Yeah, I..." Nick let out an odd laugh. "Nah."

Warrick knew that laugh. It meant something was up--something that Nick was not looking forward to talking about. "Nick?" He tugged on Nick's arm, drawing him into an embrace.

Nick responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Warrick and leaning in for a kiss. Warrick was more than happy to oblige and they exchanged several soft but deep kisses before Nick sighed and rested his head in the crook of Warrick's neck.

"What's going on, Nicky? Bad news already? Did you call Joss?"

"In the middle of the night?" Nick didn't raise his head.

"Right." Sometimes it was hard to remember they ran on a different clock than most people.

"I'm not sure if I'll be phoning her about this after all."

"Why?" A reason occurred to him, "Even if she does tell your folks, will it make that much difference?"

"No, nothing like that." Nick chuckled, "Although there's always the chance that my dad would offer to take the case--on the lab's behalf."

Warrick snorted. Ain't that the truth.

"I'm not going to take legal action if I can help it."

"You think going to the press is gonna be enough to make Lambert back down?"

"I'm not sure," Nick lifted his head and took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm not going to the press either."

"What?" Warrick pulled back to stare. "Nick--"

"Before you go ballistic," Nick held up a hand. "Just hear me out."

He could do that. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like anything he heard, but he could listen. "Okay," he settled himself on the couch and waited for Nick to join him.

"Okay," Nick sat facing him. "Well, I've been thinking about everything all day and most of the night and I just--Warrick, even if Lambert or the board or whoever are a bunch of jerk-offs, it's gonna be the lab that takes the heat from the press or a lawsuit."

"That's what you're worried about? Hell, Nicky--"

"Warrick, you work at that lab."

"You think I'm gonna keep working there if they don't--"

"You aren't going to quit over this," Nick frowned at him.

"The hell I'm not."

"Rick--" Nick sighed. "Okay, you quit. How about Catherine? And Greg? Grissom? Sara? Are they all supposed to quit, too? They would still have to work there."

"The lab has survived worse that this."

"I know," Nick admitted, "But still...anyway, that's not the only reason."

"What else?"

"Us."

"Us?" A sudden spike of fear ran through him.

"I don't care when people find out about us," Nick assured him. "I don't care who knows. I don't know if you have any problems with who knows or--"

"I don't," Warrick said as firmly as he could. He didn't want Nick to have any doubts in that area.

"But I don't want this to be the way everyone finds out, either. If there's a lawsuit..." Nick's brow creased, adding to his troubled expression. "I don't know if they'll try to use our relationship or if they'll even find out about us, but I don't want to even take the chance. I don't want anyone to even be able to touch it."

Who the hell could argue with that? Warrick couldn't, so instead he pulled Nick close, deciding to show him how much he appreciated the protectiveness Nick felt toward what they had--and that he shared the sentiment.

When they finally came up for air, Warrick was half-lying against the armrest, with Nick leaning against him. There was a comfortable silence as Warrick stroked the dark hair, then Nick sighed again. "As for the press--those reasons are a bit more selfish."

"Selfish?"

"Remember how I wouldn't give any interviews after--either time. I just let the lab give out statements."

"Yeah, but that was because the Sheriff and Director basically wanted you to make them look good. This time--"

"It's to make the lab look bad," Nick finished. "But that's still not the reason. Rick, you know how the press works. Do you really think they'd be interested in my story because I might lose my job? And once they got my story, do you really think it's the severance package that will get the bold type?"

Oh, hell.

"I don't want to be a freak show. A double freak show. I don't know how long they could drag it out--I guess it depends what else is out there making the news." A shudder ran through him and he nestled closer to Warrick. "But any length of time is too long."

Check and mate. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure--yet," Nick admitted. "But there had to be another way. I'm pretty sure if I can find a way to work around the things they're worried about--"

"Nick." Warrick didn't like where this was headed. He sat up, jostling Nick in the process. "They have no right to do this."

"I know that. But some of their reasoning is valid."

"Nothing about this is valid."

"Rick," Nick sounded exasperated. "You think I want some defense attorney taking me apart on the stand? You think I want to risk my testimony or my evidence getting kicked because of trauma induced amnesia?"

For the third time, any argument Warrick had vanished in a puff of smoke. It was starting to piss him off. "So...what, then? You're gonna just let them away with this?"

"No." Nick's chin was beginning to jut slightly. "Warrick, I'm getting my job back, and you can take that to the bank. I'm not sure exactly how, but I've got a couple of ideas I'm gonna run by Ecklie."

"You really think Ecklie will help you?" Warrick didn't want to discourage Nick, but mistrust was still his first instinct around the Assistant Director.

"If he thinks it's best for the lab, I think he will. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Warrick nodded, even though he was still dubious about it.

Nick obviously sensed his doubts. "Warrick, I'm getting my job back, okay? I have to. If I don't it's like they win and I'm not going to let that happen."

"They...you mean Lambert?"

"I mean Sampson and those two--" Nick clenched his jaw, cutting off anything else he was going to say. "There's a lot of things they took from me, but I'll be goddamned if they get this." His voice thickened and shook a little toward the end.

Warrick had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak. "Okay," he smiled, trailing his fingers along Nick's cheek. "I believe you."

Nick returned the smile and his voice was even when he spoke again. "I'm not set to go back to work for at least another month, so I've got time to take care of all this." He leaned against Warrick, and Warrick happily slumped back down to the position he'd been in before, drawing Nick closer for a kiss. Nick shifted until he was lying more fully on top of the larger man and their kiss quickly grew more heated.

Warrick smoothed his hands down Nick's sides until he came to the hem of his shirt, and he slowly slid one hand underneath. Nick moaned, then trailed his lips along Warrick jaw and began sucking industriously at the skin of his neck. Arching his head back to give Nick better access, Warrick explored every inch of warm skin he could reach.

As Nick worked his way back to Warrick's mouth, he also began to writhe insistently against him. "I want to try again," Nick said breathlessly when they finally broke apart. "I mean, I want you to..."

"Are you sure?" Warrick couldn't help asked. It had only been hand jobs or blow jobs since Warrick's less-than-successful suggestion. "Because you don't have to."

With a sigh, Nick buried his face briefly in the crook of Warrick's neck, then raised it again to look intently at him. "You think I let you fuck me because I have to?"

Warrick didn't know how to respond to that, although his body definitely had some ideas. "Gotcha."

"So?"

"I'd have to be crazy to say no," Warrick smiled.

"In your room, yeah?"

"Anywhere you want, baby." Although he didn't much care where it happened, Warrick did wonder. They had been sleeping in Nick's larger bed for a couple of months now. Of course, things had gone bad twice in Nick's bed, even though they'd enjoyed themselves in different ways since. Warrick couldn't recall how many times they'd been in his bed--there had just been the one time, actually.

Their first time.

"Rick?"

"No rush," Warrick assured him with another deep kiss. "And you know that anytime you want to stop--"

"I know," Nick smiled, kissing Warrick lightly before getting to his feet and taking Warrick's hand. "I know."

Nick seemed fine, even eager, until they actually got into the bedroom. The first time his lover's breath hitched, Warrick did his best to overlook it in case it was just a one-time thing, but when it happened a second, then a third time, he stopped what they were doing and just held Nick close. "Nick, baby, you gotta stop trying so hard to make it happen. Things have been good these past few weeks, haven't they?"

"Yes," almost reluctantly.

Nick had been fine other times when they had no specific goal, so Warrick tried to set that mood again. He took his time removing Nick's clothes, then tried to keep his composure while Nick returned the favor, although he could keep from placing teasing kisses on whatever part of Nick's body he could reach.

"I think..." Nick's voice was a bit muffled, because he was speaking in between kisses. "I'm pretty sure...I'll be okay as long as I can see you."

"That's fine by me," Warrick assured him, wrapping both arms around Nick and holding him even closer. Nick wriggled against him as they exchanged more hungry kisses, and Warrick had to step back or risk everything finishing much sooner than he planned. He got what they needed from the night stand, using the time to get himself back under control before he knelt on the bed and held out his hand. "C'mere, babe."

Nick raised his eyebrows questioningly, but if he felt any trepidation, he was hiding better than he ever had before. Without hesitation, he took the offered hand and knelt facing Warrick.

Warrick took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, and when he didn't make a move immediately, Nick did, shifting closer to capture Warrick's lips while one hand drifted down to gently grip Warrick's weeping erection. With a soft growl, Warrick wrapped his arm around Nick's waist and pulled the smaller man flush against him. With his other hand, he sought out the tube on the bed. Fortunately it was a flip cap, and he only needed one hand to sufficiently coat his fingers.

Still exploring the silky interior of Nick's mouth, Warrick managed to slide his slick fingers between the firm buttocks and begin stroking the tight opening. Nick let out a startled gasp and bucked against him, then moaned and pressed back against the questing fingers.

Nick pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach, marking Warrick's neck shoulders while Warrick prepared him. Warrick had just worked a third finger in when Nick whispered, "Okay," and moved away.

Warrick looked behind him for the condom, but then heard Nick opening the package. Then there was the excruciating pleasure of Nick taking his damn sweet time of rolling it on, teasing each inch of cock before it was sheathed in latex. Finally, finally, it was on, and Warrick spread his legs wider so he was almost sitting as well as kneeling. Grasping a muscular thigh in each hand, Warrick pulled Nick until the smaller man was straddling his hips, also on his knees.

In this position, Warrick had to look up to meet Nick's eyes, which were glazed with desire. "Whenever you're ready, baby," he husked, his hands on the slim hips to offer balance and any necessary leverage. "It's all you."

Nick smiled, and slowly lowered himself until he was impaled on Warrick's length. They groaned in unison before their lips met. As they took turns ravaging each other's mouth, Nick began to move, riding Warrick in a delicious, languid rhythm that Warrick felt certain was going to drive him out of his mind.

Warrick waited for Nick to increase their speed, start riding harder, but Nick was moving as though he had all the time in the world. "Nicky...come on, Nicky! For God's sake!"

Nick merely grinned and gave him another kiss before glancing over his shoulder, then stretching one arm to touch the mattress behind him. "Rick?"

Warrick didn't need to be asked twice. Straightening his bent legs, he bore them down until Nick was on his back, his legs still wrapped around Warrick's hips, his arms still around Warrick's neck. Nick let out a slight whuff when he landed on the mattress, but immediately tightened his legs, encouraging Warrick to drive in even deeper.

Nick had kept his eyes locked with Warrick's anytime their lips weren't locked in a kiss, and Warrick tried to do the same. Now though, as Warrick began to pick up speed, Nick's eyes slid shut and he threw his head back. "It's good...it's good..." he chanted and at first Warrick thought he might be trying to convince himself, but then came the choked--"Oh, god, Rick! It's so good!"

After that, it was only a matter of time. Warrick tried, and just barely managed to hold back until he felt the warmth of Nick's release between their bodies. Then with a hoarse shout, he pumped himself into the welcoming body beneath him.

Warrick had no idea how long it was before he finally roused himself enough to slide free of Nick. At first he thought the soft sound Nick made was of pain, but then he realized it was one of protest. "Don't go," Nick murmured.

"Just cleaning up a bit, babe," Warrick whispered, then grabbed some covers to throw over them. "I'm not going anywhere. You know that."

"I know that," Nick agreed drowsily, snuggling into his usual position. "Neither am I."

"Neither are you," Warrick repeated, wrapping his arms around his lover.

He couldn't move.

He'd tried to stretch, only to find his arms and legs were immobile.

Before fear truly had a chance to set in, it subsided again, chased away by full wakefulness. Of course he couldn't move, he was wrapped snugly in Warrick's arms and one of Warrick's legs was thrown across both of his. Nick sighed and nuzzled Warrick's shoulder, relaxing as his heart rate gradually returned to normal.

It was something that still happened, and would no doubt continue to happen, but each time it got a little easier to deal with.

Still warm and sated, Nick was tempted to just go back to sleep. That was until he checked the time and realized he only had 45 minutes before his appointment with Dr. Werne.

Carefully, Nick lifted one of Warrick's arms and tried to shift out from underneath, not wanting to wake him. Warrick mumbled something in his sleep and rolled more fully on top of him.

So much for that idea.

"Rick," Nick whispered, in case Warrick was still asleep. When there was no response, he tried once again to wriggle out from under the larger man.

Warrick began moving as well, and Nick couldn't help grinning when it became apparent that at least part of Warrick was very awake. Nick felt his body responding and knew he'd better do something before he completely forgot about his appointment.

"Warrick," he said, and moved more insistently.

So did Warrick. With a drowsy growl, he buried his face in the crook of Nick's neck.

"Easy, tiger," Nick laughed as Warrick's beard tickled his chin. "C'mon, I've gotta get up. I need to take a shower."

"Gimme a minute, an' I'll help."

"Right," Nick snorted. "Then I'll really be late." He continued to shove until he'd rolled Warrick onto his back. Leaning over to give him a quick kiss, Nick deftly avoided his hands, then got out of bed and headed for the shower.

After he was finished, Nick looked in and saw that Warrick had gone back to sleep. He walked in to give the slumbering man another kiss before going to his own room to get ready.

Dr. Werne was not at all pleased to hear what the report she'd submitted had been used for, especially considering that all the questions had been worded to imply Nick would be returning to work. She offered to testify to the same, but Nick told her what he hoped to suggest to Ecklie instead. He'd half-expected her to go into the usual "your decision" spiel--she was as fond of it as Dr. Volker had been--but instead she agreed that it was the best possible plan in his situation.

Back at home, Nick called Ecklie to set up a meeting and Ecklie reluctantly agreed to see him the next day. Then, remembering Catherine's request to be kept in the loop, he called her and then Grissom to tell them he planned to meet with Ecklie in order to come to some sort of agreement about his job. He didn't go into much more detail than that with either of them--details and scenarios were all run by Warrick before and during dinner.

It didn't go very well. Nick knew Warrick was trying to be helpful, but it was equally obvious he was still furious that Nick had to consider any options other than returning to his old job. Finally, Nick let it drop, deciding Warrick didn't need to be stressed out before he went to work.

Fortunately, there was a Cowboys game on TV, and that was enough to keep them distracted--when they weren't busy trying to distract one another from the game. Nick barely thought about the meeting again until after Warrick left for work.

That was when he got a call from Catherine.

"I mentioned to Ecklie that I was going to ask you if Grissom and I could be there for the meeting."

Oh. Nick hadn't expected to hear that, but he supposed it made sense. That didn't explain why Catherine had that edge to her voice, though. "Sure, if you guys want to be there, that's probably a good idea."

"Ecklie claims that only one of your supervisors needs to be there and since Grissom has seniority, he'll be going in."

"Well, okay..." That's what had her ticked off? Nick couldn't help but notice that she was calling Ecklie, Ecklie. Normally, Catherine was one of the few people who called him Conrad even when he wasn't around. Maybe--Catherine could get territorial about things--maybe she felt slighted? "I'm not sure what to--"

"Did you tell Ecklie what you wanted to talk about?"

"About my job," Nick replied.

"I know that, but you didn't go into specifics with us. Did you with Ecklie? Does he have enough that he could be preparing to have something ready to counter with?"

Oh. Suddenly, Catherine's concern made a lot more sense. It was well known, by Ecklie better than anyone, that if you were going to try a political or bureaucratic cat-and-mouse game, you wanted to play it against Grissom, not Catherine. "I basically told him the same thing I told you--that I wasn't accepting the severance package and wanted to discuss my job with him."

"Okay," Catherine conceded. "Maybe Ecklie just didn't want it to feel like three against one."

Nick didn't say it, but he suspected that Ecklie probably didn't want to discuss the subject of his job with Catherine again after she tore a strip off him last time. "Tell Gris he doesn't have to come to the meeting if he doesn't want to. I should be okay." He didn't point out that although he wasn't crazy about politicking or bureaucratic doublespeak, he'd grown up around it and could deal with it when he had to.

"Don't worry, Nicky, he'll be there."

Nick wondered if Grissom knew that yet.

Ecklie was keeping them waiting on purpose.

Nick felt it in his gut as he paced outside the Assistant Director's closed door. It was already fifteen minutes past the time they'd agreed on, and Nick was growing more agitated by the minute. While he honestly believed his plan was the best possible one for both him and the lab, that was no guarantee that Ecklie would think so as well. In truth, Ecklie not only had to agree with it, but also to believe it was beneficial enough to the lab to risk running it past Lambert.

Shit, maybe it would have to be a lawsuit or the press, after all.

Maybe he should have called Joss, as Warrick suggested, just to have a little extra ammo in his back pocket.

Maybe he should call Warrick back and tell him to cancel their reservation. It was his night off, so Warrick had made dinner reservations at Prime in the Bellagio so they could celebrate if Nick was successful. The unwavering support meant a lot to him, but Nick doubted he would feel much like eating out if things didn't go well.

Nick looked over at his mentor, who was still standing as calmly as he had been since arriving, looking as though he'd been waiting fifteen seconds instead of fifteen minutes. Nick tried to do the same, but almost immediately began pacing again.

Finally, Ecklie's door opened. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I was on the phone with Director Lambert."

Nick couldn't help wondering what Ecklie might be implying--if he was implying anything, but quickly shook it off. He and Grissom sat down, as did Ecklie once he'd closed the door behind them.

"I don't suppose this is something as simple as wanting your severance package sweetened before accepting it," Ecklie said.

"You know it isn't," Nick replied. He took a deep, steadying breath. "From what I've seen, the main concern with my return to work is possible damage to the lab's reputation, but in the process of getting rid of me and hiring a CSI-I, the lab will also save money over the next several years, despite my severance package, is that correct?"

"Money isn't the main factor," Ecklie hedged. "But the budget is always strained."

"And about the $16,000 difference between a CSI-I and a CSI-III is a nice chunk of money to be saving each year," Nick pointed out.

For a moment it looked like Grissom was going to add something, but then he leaned back in his chair again, so Nick continued. "Whether I accept the severance package or whether we fight this thing out, you're going to be hiring a CSI-I at some point, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ecklie admitted, a bit reluctantly.

"And if I applied for that CSI-I position?"

Both men stared at him blankly. "What?" Ecklie finally said.

"If I applied for that CSI-I position?"

"You're a CSI-III," Ecklie informed him.

"I won't be if I'm unsuccessful at getting my job back. So the question now is--if someone with my qualifications applied for the CSI-I position, would you hire them?"

"Of course," Ecklie said.

"No," Grissom said at the same moment, cancelling him out.

Nick struggled to keep his expression neutral, even though that single word almost felt like a punch in the gut.

"Nick, you've worked hard to become a CSI-III," Grissom said. "You've earned it."

Embarrassed, Nick looked at Ecklie instead of his mentor. The Assistant Director was studying him thoughtfully. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Nick went on, "As a CSI-I, it would be at least a year before I would testify in court again, so the Director wouldn't have to worry about defense attorneys taking a crack at me until I'd proven myself. And not only would you save that sixteen grand, but the training costs would be practically nonexistent."

"Those are both things Director Lambert would love to hear . . . " Ecklie mused.

"No," Grissom said again, more firmly. "Nick has endured more than any of us can imagine in the course of doing his job and has overcome it. And in return for that--he's demoted?"

"Gris," Nick said, before the entomologist really started in on Ecklie. "I don't want to chance anything happening on the stand or having my evidence questioned any more than Lambert does. And as much as I think I'll be fine once I get back on the job..." He had to swallow again before admitting the next part, "There's always the chance that something might...go wrong. I don't want to risk letting anyone down."

"You never have, Nick."

The quiet conviction in Grissom's voice made Nick's throat close up and when he spoke again, his voice was shaky despite his best efforts. "I'd rather be a CSI-I in Las Vegas than a CSI-III anywhere else. It's not about a career or advancement right now. It's about getting back on the horse."

"I remember reading about something that could almost be considered a precedent," Ecklie said slowly. "In the early '90s, I think. A woman had been off on maternity leave and just before she was due to come back, she was in a car accident. All total she was away from work for eighteen months. She also had to begin again as a CSI-I, but was able to keep her seniority." He was silent for a moment as he studied a point on the ceiling, "Since Nick hasn't been away nearly as long, I believe that if he passed a proficiency, he could return as a CSI-II--but with a provision that he not testify in court for a specified amount of time--and still retain his seniority."

"Would Lambert go for that?" Nick asked, hardly daring to hope.

"It's more advantageous than a possible lawsuit, or the trouble of training someone new. I think I can convince him."

Nick glanced at Grissom before adding, "It would be a while yet before I'm back."

"We'll muddle through," Ecklie said dryly. "And I will want a clean bill of health from both your doctors."

"Of course," Nick agreed, looking at Grissom again.

The entomologist finally seemed to realize they were waiting for his opinion. "If it's acceptable to you, Nicky, and means you'll be back on the team, then I'm all for it."

Nick returned his gaze to Ecklie, who nodded. "I'll talk to Lambert and start the paper work as soon as possible."

"Thank you," was all Nick managed before his voice failed him completely. He blinked several times, then stood.

Ecklie rose as well and held out his hand, "I'll call you with the details."

Nick could only nod as they shook hands firmly, then allowed Grissom to usher him out.

In the hallway, Grissom grasped his shoulder. "I'll call Catherine and give her the good news."

Probably a good idea, Nick decided, since he was only minutes away from tearing up and bawling like a baby.

"It will be good to have you back, Nicky."

Oh, jeez. Nick cleared his throat, but it didn't help much. His voice still shook a little as he said, "I'm gonna...um...I'm gonna get going. I'm going home to--to, uh..."

"To Warrick," Grissom finished for him.

"Yeah," Nick smiled even though his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Okay. I'll talk to you again soon."

Nick nodded again, then hurried down the hall and out the door before he lost it completely.

Once in his Ranger, he leaned back and pressed his hands to his eyes. Strange that things going even better than expected would cause such a strong reaction. He stayed the way he was, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself before he called Warrick.

He might going back to beginning, but he was starting with skills, experience and connections.

And Warrick.

That put him ahead of the game.

And in Las Vegas, that's exactly where you wanted to be.

Fin.