Out of the Depths Part 4

Warrick was glad he let Nick talk him in to going in a couple of hours early the next day, otherwise they would have missed seeing Lee Travis finding out that a rookie had cracked his "priority case" without him. Nick had decided to take the high road with Travis, and Warrick reluctantly went along, but that didn't mean they couldn't enjoy seeing him speechless with anger and frustration.

After what he called Erin Young's "moronic incompetence" at not leaving the trace with Hodges in enough time to catch Detective Wolf on his way to Lake Mead, Travis refused to continue working the case with her. Erin had been understandably upset, because she had left the trace with Hodges, but Travis wouldn't listen. He threatened to write up a report as soon as he returned from the crime scene in Pahrump where he had to collect more trace, if possible. No sooner had he left when, lo and behold, Hodges miraculously found the trace results and sent Erin on her way to meet Detective Wolf and bring in the collar.

Nick and Warrick arrived just in time for to see the DA turn over the report to Ecklie and suggest that Erin be listed as the primary for court. Travis arrived a few minutes after them, and stood in furious silence when Ecklie agreed, shooting Travis a quelling look as he did so.

High road be damned. As Travis walked past him on the way Sofia's office, Warrick couldn't resist. "Hey, I thought you were working that case, Lee."

"Go to hell, Brown," Travis hissed without breaking stride.

Warrick chuckled and glanced over at Nick, who was trying to look impartial without much success. "Nice work, Erin," Warrick said to the rookie, who still looked a little surprised at this turn of events.

David Hodges, of course, watched the whole thing with a bored expression.

"I'm gonna see if I can track down Grissom," Nick's lips were still twitching with amusement.

"Okay, catch you later," Warrick said, heading for the locker room. He was glad to see Nick's mood improving because it had been fluctuating between worry and anger since the session with Kane that afternoon.

In the hopes of getting a jump on the situation, Nick gave Kane his permission to call Grissom and discuss the report and feed with him. Kane had agreed that Nick should have a copy of the report if he wanted it, but like Warrick, he didn't see the point of Nick reliving the feed. Nick wasn't happy about that, but hadn't brought it up again.

Since he wasn't rooting for Nick in this particular battle, Warrick kept his mouth shut.

He wanted to know the results though, so Warrick grabbed a stack of his case files and went to the break room to catch up on his reports. He settled at the table, sitting at an angle that would allow him to see Nick when he left Grissom's office, and forced himself to concentrate on paperwork.

It was forty-five minutes before Nick emerged from Grissom's office and joined Warrick at the table with his own handful of case files.

"So?"

"So?" Nick flipped a file open and started reading.

"C'mon, man," Warrick frowned.

Nick smiled slightly and looked up. "Well, Gris didn't seem too happy about it, but he agreed to get me a copy of the report. I'm going to wait until my night off to read it though--just in case."

"You tellin' me you aren't going to look at it the minute you get it?" Warrick said doubtfully.

"I know it's hard to believe," Nick nodded his understanding. "But part of me still doesn't want to see it," he held up his hand when Warrick opened his mouth. "I have to see it, though, Rick. I shouldn't have waited this long."

"No way you were ready before."

Nick's eyebrows shot up at the certainty in Warrick's tone, then he shrugged. "Probably."

Warrick hated asking the next question, but it was driving him insane. "And the feed?"

"Yeah," Nick's lips tightened. "We haven't finished discussing that yet."

"Uh-huh. Does Gris know that?"

Nick was waiting for him by the door.

He was shaking slightly and for several long minutes just stood with his face buried in Warrick's neck, breathing deeply.

"I started about an hour after you left," Nick said, his voice slightly muffled. "But then I thought I'd better wait until a couple hours before your shift ended."

"I made sure I didn't have overtime tonight," Warrick murmured, holding Nick tightly. "How bad, Nicky?"

"Not...me," Nick pulled back enough to look at Warrick, his eyes only slightly damp. "It was...almost like reading a report on someone else. But I could see it like I was one of you guys. I saw what you had to go through...Grissom...the explosion...and you and Cath and Greg digging up that--the dog...Jesus, Warrick..."

Warrick had to clear his throat several times before he was able to speak, "Yeah, that was...that was rough. But Nick, are you okay? No flashbacks? No triggers?"

"None," Nick's expression hardened. "And believe me, I was expecting them. No, it was...I mean, I knew...but I never realized...he didn't just torture me. The song, the feed...that bastard was fucking with all of us."

As he tightened his embrace, Warrick couldn't help but notice that Nick sounded angrier about that than anything else. "Yeah, he was. But it didn't do him a damn bit of good, did it? He lost on all counts," Warrick was startled to hear the savagery in his own voice.

"Yeah, and we won on a few," Nick said as he pulled Warrick's head down for a hard kiss.

At work, Nick was regaining more of his old confidence every day and was beginning to grow restless under Grissom's watchful eye. He rarely mentioned it, and Warrick could tell he was trying hard to be patient with the arrangement. Both Sara and Greg seemed to assume it wouldn't be long before Nick was assigned to a case with someone other than Grissom or even alone. Warrick wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that because he had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be him assigned to work with Nick.

After he read the report, Nick didn't mention the feed again for over a week and Warrick hoped he had decided against watching it at all. Then one day at Warrick's, Nick related the argument he'd had with Grissom about getting a copy of the feed. Warrick didn't know what to say. He wanted to back Nick up, but was actually in complete agreement with Grissom on this point. "What did Gris say?" he asked, because that seemed like a safe, neutral question.

"That it was a bad idea," Nick sighed. "That he thinks I should listen to Dr. Kane."

"And Kane thinks it's a bad idea." Warrick hoped this meant the end of it.

"I told Grissom I was getting Archie to burn me a copy."

"What?"

Nick propped himself up on one elbow, "I'm getting a CD of it. I don't want to watch it right now, but whenever I decide to, I don't want this hassle again."

"Can Archie hand over a copy to just anyone like that?"

"Just anyone?" Nick looked at Warrick with an expression that was equal parts amusement and frustration. "It's me. I might double check my rights on that, but it's not an active investigation, and who would it belong to if not the participant?"

"Participant?!" Warrick exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well, I didn't say willing participant," Nick conceded.

"So you're going to..."

"I'm going to put the CD away somewhere at my place. That way it's there whenever I'm ready to see it."

"And you...really think that's the right decision?" Warrick asked carefully.

It didn't work. Nick's jaw still tightened. "I don't know if it's the right decision or not, but it's my decision."

Warrick felt a now-familiar tendril of unease weave through his stomach. He still didn't understand why he kept feeling this way. In his past relationships, he'd always hated it when his partner got clingy, and now it bothered him that Nick wasn't. If that was all there was to it, Warrick could have consoled himself with the fact that whether or not Nick needed him, Nick obviously wanted him, but there was more to it than that.

Whether it was because he'd wanted Nick for so long, whether it was because he was still afraid of losing him, or whether it was because he had so much invested in Nick's well-being, his emotions became more difficult to control each day. More and more often, Warrick was beginning to worry that his emotions--his passion--were moving into dangerous territory. He couldn't say for certain because feelings this deep, this powerful for another person were not something he could remember experiencing before. The only way he was able to control them any more was to shut off everything and he knew Nick noticed that, even though he had never mentioned it.

"Rick, I know you don't like the idea," Nick trailed his fingers across the furrow in Warrick's brow.

It was just a simple, affectionate touch, the kind Nick was always prone to. There was no reason whatsoever for Warrick to feel such a surge of emotion so strong that he had to hold himself tense to keep from reacting to it.

There was no way Nick could not notice. "Should I go, Rick?"

Warrick could hear the extra-casual note in Nick's voice and knew he was trying not to let the hurt seep in. "No," he said and closed his eyes. "I don't want you to go."

"Are you sure? Because it's not a problem. I know--"

"I'm just tired, Nicky."

"Okay," Nick settled back down against his pillow, but was careful not to touch Warrick.

Warrick had to wait much longer than usual for the even breathing that indicated Nick was sleeping peacefully. Only then was he able to sleep as well.

"You want to know if I'm going to insist on more?" Kane arched an eyebrow. "Why didn't you bring this up at your last session?"

Warrick shrugged. "I figured what's one more for good measure?"

"Ah. Being extra cooperative, are we?"

"Considering this was always supposed to be about my ability to do my job, I'd say I've been cooperative enough." Warrick lifted his chin as though to take a hit, "So whatever other issues you think I have--do you believe I'm capable of doing my job?"

"You want me to sign you off," Kane said neutrally.

"Do you think I'm capable of doing my job?" Warrick repeated.

Kane sighed. "We both know you are. That was never the point."

"Really? I thought that was the only point."

Although he was obviously unwilling to sign Warrick off, Kane was even more unwillingly to lie. "I think you have many things you still need to work through--for Nick's sake as well as yours. But no, I have no reason to require more sessions of you for your job's sake." He flipped open Warrick's file and signed one paper, then made several notes on the page beneath it before handing the top one over to Warrick.

Standing and taking the letter, Warrick managed to refrain from grinning triumphantly. "I really do appreciate everything you've done, Phillip. Especially for Nick," that last part, at least, was sincere.

"Just one more thing before you go," Phillip requested.

Some of Warrick's jubilant mood faded, but he nodded.

"I don't think you need to protect Nick as much as you're trying to."

"I know that," Warrick nodded. "I'm working on it. But I know I can't protect him from everything out there."

Kane shook his head, "I meant from you, Warrick."

Like now.

Warrick knew he was already edgy from Kane's last words to him the day before plus the fact that Nick seemed to be holding himself more distant, and he didn't want to sound paranoid, but Greg's quick, curious glances were getting on his last nerve. "Something on your mind, Greg?" Warrick asked without taking his eyes off the road.

He knew he'd startled Greg, because the younger man abruptly turned to look out the window before replying. "Do you know...I mean, is there any rule about dating a co-worker?"

Hoping against hope that Greg was thinking of making a play for Sara, Warrick countered. "Why do you ask?"

"You..." Greg took a deep breath. "You and Nick."

The words didn't come as a great surprise, but Warrick still found himself unable to reply.

"I mean, just since everything that happened, right?"

"Just over a month," Warrick admitted reluctantly. "Is it making the rounds?"

"What?" Greg sounded baffled. "Oh. No, not that I've heard."

"Who else knows?"

"If I thought anyone else knew, do you think I'd be asking you?" Greg's honesty surprised a chuckle out of Warrick.

"Well, if anyone else knows, no one's had the nerve to bring it up."

"I didn't know Nick was into guys," Greg admitted. "I mean when I first met him, I thought maybe, but after that...what? He only realized it after all this happened?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. He knew, but just never...did anything about it."

"Knew about you, though."

Warrick could tell that Greg was dying for him to demand how, when, why, but he decided not to let the kid have the satisfaction. "I don't advertise, but it's not exactly a deep dark secret, either," he said, sounding unconcerned.

Greg was not to be deterred. "We have some mutual acquaintances."

It was more difficult not to react to that, but Warrick managed. "I'm not surprised," he said, even though he was--a little.

With a snort, Greg gave up and went back to his original inquiry. "So how serious are you guys? You're going to have to tell people at some point, aren't you?"

"If and when we tell anyone is up to Nick," Warrick said firmly, relieved that they'd arrived at their scene. A DB out in the desert hadn't seemed like a big deal when Grissom assigned it, but now it meant he'd have another interrogation from the Question Man on the way back.

"Why is it up to Nick?" Greg continued as he joined Warrick at the back of the vehicle to get his kit. "Don't you have any say in the matter?"

"Of course I do. And I say that I'm gonna handle it any way Nick wants to." Warrick's tone indicated the subject was closed.

Even the Question Man knew not to mess with that, and Greg turned his attention to their scene.

* * *

His case with Greg turned out to be a suicide they wrapped up in a couple of hours and Warrick was able to get back to some of his other cases. One case he began the night before, a male DB found a few blocks off the Strip, was shot eleven times in as bad a case of overkill as Warrick had ever seen.

Jacqui and Sara had tied up the print lab the night before, but when he went in tonight, Jacqui had an ID on his vic. Warrick headed for ballistics next and while he was waiting for the casings to run through IBIS, Grissom stopped by to check on the suicide.

"I left Greg to finish it up," Warrick told his supervisor.

"Ah, the joys of seniority," Gil observed dryly. Then his eye fell on the AFIS report next to Warrick's hand. "Why are you investigating Travis Ballard? He's our suspect."

Warrick didn't remove his eyes from the IBIS scan, "This is my vic from last night."

"He's dead?"

"Oh, yeah." Warrick frowned when IBIS gave him a no results signal. "Damn."

"Nick and I got a call this morning. Found a woman beaten to death in her home--this address."

Bobby looked up from the comparison scope. "Warrick, I can confirm that all your bullets are from the same gun. Forty-five caliber."

"Okay. Thanks, Bobby." Warrick looked at Grissom. "So the husband was shot to death last night and the wife is beaten to death this morning."

"Either a remarkable coincidence or we're working on the same case," Grissom replied. "Since the latter is more likely, I'll get Nick and we can compare notes."

Warrick agreed readily, but he couldn't help feeling apprehensive when he joined Grissom in the conference room. He was certain Kane would have spoken to Grissom about his last session, so he wanted to seem as cool as possible about working with Nick again, just in case Grissom was observing. He also didn't want to increase the drama that had somehow worked its way into his relationship with Nick, so he held himself firmly in check.

Nick only managed a tentative smile in the face of Warrick's stoic expression, and didn't say much. If Grissom noticed the absence of their old banter, he gave no sign of it. All of his attention was focused on the files in front of him. "Okay, Warrick, your vic was killed first, so what have you got?"

"Very little, but now that I have an ID, I should make more progress. Travis Ballard, shot eleven times with a forty-five--nothing on IBIS. Found near Howard Hughes Parkway by a patrol car. TOD is between seven and nine last night. No sign of robbery--guy still had his watch, a ring, credit cards and a couple hundred cash in his wallet. We just ID'd him a half-hour ago."

"Okay," Grissom nodded. "And we've got Audrey Ballard. Found in her home on Forest Vista. COD blunt force trauma, but the vic was beaten severely, even postmortem. TOD between nine and ten this morning. Body was seen through the window by UPS. No sign of sexual assault, no sign of robbery in the home. So...suspects?"

"So far--none," Nick said. "The seventeen-year-old son...uh, Jeremy--says he went to school at seven-thirty in the morning which puts him out of the time frame. Brass was going to talk to the teachers to check out his story. Where he was last night--well, we had no reason to ask. He said that his father was leaving on business after work."

Grissom was frowning, "Where is the son now?"

"Staying with a friend of the family." Nick sighed, "He doesn't even know his dad is dead."

Grissom's eyebrows rose, "He might. Okay," he glanced over the files again. "Warrick, who's the detective on the husband's case?"

"Vega."

"Okay, let him know what's going on, and start over with new eyes. Nick, call Brass and let him know, then go with him when notifies the son. I'll grab a uniform and go back to the house, you can both meet me there when you're done."

They rose nearly in unison, and left the conference room in silence. Grissom because he was already absorbed in this new aspect of the case, Warrick and Nick because after exchanging wary, uncomfortable looks, neither could think of anything to say.

He dropped the new prints off with Jacqui and was heading to the evidence vault when Nick waved to him from an empty computer lab. Warrick went as far as the doorway. "What's up?"

"Did you get Bobby's page?" Nick asked. "We found a gun at the Ballard house registered to the father. Bobby's testing it now."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Rick," Nick's voice stopped him when he'd turned to go, and he reluctantly turned back. "Any luck?"

Since Nick was only discussing the case, Warrick allowed himself to relax a bit. "A couple dozen prints. Nothing else useful, though. I'll definitely be putting in some overtime to print this guy's co-workers."

"Yeah, I'll be with Brass talking to Jeremy's teachers again."

There was a soft knock, and Archie looked into the lab. "Sorry, but...uh...Nick. I've...it's ready whenever you want to pick it up."

Warrick stiffened, but Nick just nodded, "Okay. Thanks, Archie."

Archie took one look at Warrick's face and decided this was not the time to chat. He headed back to the safety of his A/V lab.

"The feed?" Warrick barely got the words out past his gritted teeth.

"Yeah."

"I've got a car to process," Warrick bit out. He left quickly, but not before hearing Nick's heavy sigh.

* * *

Warrick was buttoning a clean shirt in preparation to begin his double when a CD case appeared in his line of vision. He glanced over at the man holding it. "What's this?"

Nick frowned, "Come on, Warrick. You know what it is. Take it."

"What?"

"Take it. I don't want this to be a problem between us."

Warrick sat on the bench, even though his fingers itched to take the CD and smash it under his heel.

"Just think about it okay? And if you still think it's important I don't see it, then snap it in half and I won't bother getting another one. Otherwise bring it back to my place when you're done interviewing at West Desert." Nick set the case on the bench next to Warrick.

Warrick stared at the CD as though it was a venomous creature. This was more trust than he was prepared to deal with--ever. "This is gonna be a double shift and then some. I'm just gonna go back to my place to crash after."

Nick paled. "None of this is even about the feed, is it?" he asked softly.

"What is?" Warrick asked, keeping his tone and expression neutral.

"Got it," Nick nodded stiffly. He turned and grabbed his jacket from his locker. "I've got to meet up with Brass. Later."

Once he was alone in the locker room, Warrick allowed himself to slump forward. The CD case was still beside him on the bench and Warrick tried to ignore its presence. Feeling both elated and burdened by the trust Nick constantly demonstrated in him, he was at a loss for ways to reciprocate. Giving the CD back might do it, but God help him, he didn't want Nick to see it. The only thing Warrick knew for certain right now was that he couldn't leave it on the bench. He picked it up, ignoring the ridiculous urge he had to put on a pair of gloves, and brought it with him. Until he reached a decision, he wasn't going to let the thing out of his sight and risk anyone else seeing it.

He headed down to Grissom's office and stopped in the doorway when he saw Brass already sitting with Grissom inside. They hadn't noticed him, but their conversation didn't seem private, so Warrick waited quietly for the chance to jump in.

"...sat back and let Nicky do the questioning," Brass was saying, sounding as pleased as he ever got.

A faint smile crossed Grissom's face, "And?"

"And she answered every question he asked. A little sympathy and those big brown eyes and he had her eating out of his hand," Brass chuckled.

Warrick felt his lips twitch involuntarily. It sounded like Nick was regaining more and more confidence all the time. Warrick couldn't count the number of witnesses who had spilled their guts in response to Nick's friendly or sympathetic nature.

"As it turns out, Jeremy is a good student and his teachers know he's got some problems outside of school. So they cut him some slack."

"Such as?"

"A lot of little things, but the ones I was interested in were the tendencies to mark him present even when he's late, and to give him extra credit for work he does before and after school hours."

"And the morning of his mother's murder?" Grissom sat forward.

"He missed his 7:30 Advanced Calculus class and was actually late for his first regular class. Because he'd completed his Calculus work, they let it slide."

"Little lie, big lie?" Grissom mused.

"Well, not about his father's trip," Warrick took that as his cue.

Brass spun in his chair, but Grissom just tilted his head questioningly.

"Travis Ballad was scheduled to catch the red-eye to Atlanta for a convention." He walked in, handing one copy of the report to Brass and dropping the other on Gil's desk. "Obviously, he never made it. According to his co-workers, he wasn't especially friendly, but wasn't one to majorly piss anyone off, either. Aloof was a word that got used a lot. Fingerprints in his office have been matched to his co-workers or clients. One odd thing though, is that I didn't find any luggage when I went over his car."

"His killer took it?"

"Maybe, but he wasn't killed anywhere near his car. He went down in the parking lot next door, and that's where we found him."

"How does this tie in with his wife?" Brass shook his head. "The murders are so different."

"But they're both cases of overkill," Grissom pointed out.

"Major hatred," Brass nodded.

"This is pointing to the kid," Warrick said. "But there's no evidence yet to tie him to it."

"We didn't find blood on anything that could be used as a weapon," Grissom shook his head. "Nick and Archie are going over both computers we brought from the house, maybe something will turn up on one of them."

"The kid's advocate is bringing him to the station this afternoon," Brass said. "What are the chances of Nicky being in on that?"

Grissom arched an eyebrow, "Let me guess--Jeremy was more comfortable talking to Nick."

"Go figger," Brass dead panned. Warrick snorted with amusement.

"He worked overtime yesterday," Grissom frowned. "Technically, he's not supposed to work any for another two weeks."

"So send him home early," Brass said easily. "Split shift." When Grissom remained silent, Brass scowled, "What? In case the kid is guilty?"

"I don't want Nick to..." Grissom shut his lips firmly and shook his head.

"Hey, Nicky knows this kid is a suspect. He knows it as well as any of us. He may not like it, but who does?" Brass sighed. "He can handle it, Gil."

Warrick had to bite his tongue before he started arguing with both men. Grissom, because there was every indication that Nick would be able to handle all aspects of his job again, and Brass, because Warrick didn't want to find out for certain.

Grissom's expression changed suddenly and when there was a soft knock behind him, Warrick realized why. Nick walked in and immediately stopped, acutely aware that all eyes were on him. "What?"

"Find anything?" Grissom asked.

"Actually, it's what we didn't find," Nick looked around at all three men. "Archie's still going over some of it, but he found e-mail on the father's comp confirming the order of a silencer ten months ago. High end. I'm guessing Ballard was a collector."

"No one heard shots," Warrick pointed out.

"We only found one gun..." Nick began.

"Which didn't match," Warrick added.

Nick nodded his agreement, "But Mrs. Ballard owned a forty-five and two other handguns."

"Huh," Brass tugged the paper from Nick's hand to read it.

"And we didn't find that at the house..." Grissom mused.

"Or this," Nick handed his boss a printed photo.

Warrick walked around to look at the picture as well. It was Jeremy and another boy mock wrestling in a room he recognized as Jeremy's bedroom. "What are we looking for?"

Nick pointed to something in the background, and both Grissom and Warrick focused on the baseball bat propped against the closet door.

"There was no baseball bat anywhere in that house," Grissom glanced up at Nick.

"I know. Absence of evidence is not evidence, technically he could have lent it to a friend or something, but--"

"But it might be enough to rattle the kid's cage," Brass had leaned forward to look as well.

"Good catch, Nicky," Grissom nodded. "Put in a couple more hours at the computer with Archie, then head home."

"Head home?" Nick balked immediately. "Gris, I haven't even been here for two hours. I'm not going to--"

"--put in any overtime for another two weeks," Grissom finished for him. "That's why you're splitting this shift. We'll need you down at PD this afternoon to interview Jeremy with Jim."

"Oh," Nick nodded. He glanced at Brass and nodded again. "All right, then."

Nothing was more fun than watching Nick trying to be cool and professional when he was actually elated. Warrick had always thought so, and judging from their expressions Grissom and Brass did as well.

"I'll get back to the computers, then," Nick said, and glanced once more at Warrick before heading for the door.

"Don't be late," Brass couldn't resist adding.

With the Ballard case well under control, Grissom handed Warrick a burglary. It wasn't the most challenging case, but it kept Warrick occupied for most of the shift. The rest of the night was quiet, for which Warrick was thankful. Although he wouldn't mind more overtime, he wanted to be at the station to see the interview and hopefully wrap up the case.

As he pulled up to his apartment building, any hopes of catching some shut eye vanished when he saw the blue truck parked across the street. Warrick got out of his jeep and stayed where he was while Nick strode over to him.

"We need to settle this," Nick's tone left no room for argument.

Warrick gestured for Nick to follow him up to his apartment. "Want a beer?" he asked once they were inside.

"No," Nick stopped near the sofa while Warrick continued into the kitchen. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought.

Grabbing a beer for himself, Warrick joined Nick in the living room. "Sit?" he gestured toward the sofa.

Nick started to move, then halted himself. "I can't believe you're acting like nothing is wrong."

"Okay. What's on your mind?" Warrick asked, wondering if Nick was also bracing himself for disaster.

"Give it a rest, Warrick," Nick's jaw was set. "Just tell me why you're doing this. Level with me, would you?"

Unable to come up with a suitable reply, Warrick stalled with, "Doing what?"

The dark eyes flashed dangerously. "Pulling away. It was only once in a while at first, but now it's pretty much the brush off and you damn well know it!" Nick's voice rose, "I thought it was because of the feed, but it obviously isn't. For Christ's sake, step up and say it!"

Warrick took a long pull off his beer. If Nick was here to call everything off, he'd be goddamned if he was going to help.

"Do you think I can't handle it? Is that it?"

Caught off guard by the question, Warrick couldn't stop himself from twitching in surprise.

"Yeah, I thought so." Nick voice softened slightly. "Look, Rick, if this...whatever it is...isn't what you expected, then hell, just tell me so." He paused, but when Warrick didn't respond, continued, "You don't have to stay, Warrick. Jesus, you think I want someone who's with me out of some sense of obligation?" His voice thickened slightly, and he had to swallow several times before he could go on, "If it ends now, then maybe...maybe at some point we could go back to the friendship we had."

Warrick felt the room spin slightly. "You...don't want out? You think I want out?"

A heavy silence descended over the apartment, then Nick asked cautiously, "Don't you want out?"

"Jesus, no," Warrick set his beer down before he dropped it.

Nick stared at him, surprise and hope dawning on his face, but suddenly his lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Then what is this? Warrick...God, I never would have figured you for these kinds of head games. If this is what it's like, then yeah, maybe I do want ou--"

"No head games, Nicky, I swear," Warrick felt desperation rising and grabbed Nick's arm. Then just as abruptly he dropped it and backed away. He didn't look at Nick until he felt he was under control. "I would never do that to you. Ever."

"What are you doing, Rick?" Nick pleaded softly. "Because damned if I can figure it out."

"I'm trying..." Warrick searched desperately for the right words. "I am, Nicky, I swear."

"Okay," Nick said, concern having replaced anger. "But what are you trying to do? Trying to keep from getting in too deep? Little late for that, isn't it?"

"I'm trying to make this work!" Warrick insisted.

"You're going about it in a strange way," Nick observed, but didn't sound accusing.

"I'm trying not to hurt you, Nicky!"

"Well, it's not working."

Nick's words may as well have been bullets, and Warrick felt himself reel. He didn't know what expression was on his face, but it was obviously enough to seriously alarm Nick.

"Okay," Nick's voice was a soothing whisper. "Okay, maybe we should sit down."

"I did. I hurt you," Warrick could barely force the words past his painfully tight throat. "I knew it. Oh, God. Nick...baby, I'm so sorry."

"Warrick...hey, it's okay. I've been more confused than hurt, anyway," Nick's voice was low, but reassuring. "Just tell me why you've been so...distant."

Warrick had to hold onto the armrest to center himself. "That's...that's what...that's not what I meant."

"Well, Warrick, you haven't done anything else that comes even remotely close to hurting me." Nick's voice was barely more than a whisper, "You've been my lifeline, Rick, don't you know that?"

"But what about..?" Warrick squeezed his eyes shut, "What about when..? Can't you tell when it's happening?"

"Umm...when what's happening?" Nick asked carefully.

"Jesus, Nick, what is wrong with you?" Warrick pushed himself off the sofa, "Okay, so I've never completely lost it yet, but can't you tell?"

Nick stayed on the sofa and watched as Warrick began pacing the length of his living room. "I guess not. Help me a little."

"Do you remember the first night I tried to stay at my place alone? And then I came back after just a couple of hours?"

"Oh..." Nick frowned briefly, then nodded, one corner of his mouth curling up, "Yeah, I remember."

"It's like when I was gambling," Warrick held his hands out as he tried to explain. "I never mean to go that far, but I always do. Nicky, I've been trying to get a handle on it, but...everything gets so...so goddamn extreme that I think I'm going to lose it..."

"Wait," Nick held up his hand, then got off the couch. "Is this about when everything gets turned up a notch?"

"Yes," Warrick said, relieved they were finally on the same page. "I'm working on it, babe, but right now the only way I can really keep in under control is to step back."

"You get intense."

"Yes."

"And you thought that was a secret?" Nick looked honestly baffled.

Warrick blinked.

"You think everyone in the lab doesn't know when you go all intense on a case, Rick?" Nick asked him. "You think we haven't seen it dozens of times?"

"But--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Nick took one of Warrick's hands and twined their fingers together. "Things get extra intense between us, otherwise the lab would have burned down years ago."

"No, we can't be talking about the same thing..." It can't be this easy, his mind was telling him. Nothing so important can be this easy. "You don't know when it's happening. Not if--"

"Warrick, would you stop telling me what I know?" Nick snapped impatiently. "I know when it's happening. Your eyes get kind of greenish-gold...they make me think of tiger's eyes...and you look at me like you want to eat me alive," a wicked smile passed fleetingly over his lips. "Trust me I know. Scared of something that hot and sexy? No way."

"Uh..." Warrick ducked his head while he tried to think of something to say, then looked up again when he heard a soft chuckle.

"Don't tell me I embarrassed you," Nick grinned. "I actually embarrassed Mr. Suave?" Then he turned serious again, "It doesn't scare me, Rick. And I didn't know it scared you."

"I'm just worried about hurting you."

"Well, I'm not. So stop it."

Warrick tried to pull his hand away, but Nick tightened his grip.

"The only thing that was hurting was the thought that you might not want this anymore," Nick said candidly. "And that you didn't think enough of me to make a clean break. But since that's not the case..." he shrugged, "Then I don't have anything to worry about, do I?"

"No, Nicky...you can't think like that. There's are times--"

"Don't look at me like that," Nick said with a lopsided smile. "I'm not that naive. I know there might come a time when this doesn't work anymore. I hope not, but I know it could happen. But I'm going to do my damnedest to make it work, and while it is, I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

The dark eyes were alight with passion as Nick spoke, and it was all Warrick could do not to throw him down on the sofa. His tensed himself and tried to back away again, but Nick just wasn't letting go, and moved with him. "You don't know, Nicky...the only time I've felt like this...the first time was for a woman in college. That ended--badly. After that--fuck, Nick, it's practically the same pull I'd get for a blackjack table. But this time it's more...even more. And you think that's not something to worry about?"

Instead of replying right away, Nick stepped up to Warrick and enveloped him in a warm embrace. "If it bothers you that much, then yeah, it's something to worry about. But it doesn't make me afraid of you, Rick."

"Maybe you should be," Warrick tightened his control desperately.

"Of you?" Nick laughed softly. "Of the person who's kept me safe and sane through this whole thing? Of the guy who's always had my back before that? There's a lot of things I'm scared of, Rick. More now than before. But you'll never be one of them."

"Jesus," Warrick instinctively wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

"Y'know, Rick," Nick pressed several kisses against Warrick's neck, making him shudder. "I think you should take some of you own advice."

"What advice?" Warrick asked hoarsely.

"You'll get through this easier if you don't fight it."

Warrick pulled away enough to meet Nick's eyes. "No. Nick...baby, that's--how the hell do I... what if I get carried away and do something...I don't know what..."

"You won't," Nick reassured him.

"If I did--"

"You won't," Nick insisted. "If you don't trust yourself, Warrick, then please trust me."

"Nicky..." Warrick was helpless against such a plea.

Nick stretched up so he could bite Warrick's ear gently. "Show me what you've got, tiger," he breathed.

"Oh god..." Warrick grasped the short, silky hair and guided Nick's mouth to his own. Their lips met and Warrick felt his control rapidly slipping away. His hands managed to strip Nick's shirt off, and then he concentrated on touching, licking, devouring as much of Nick's skin as he could. Although it had only been days, it felt like years since he'd immersed himself in the feel of hard muscle and soft skin, in the scent that always brought to mind a hot summer wind, and the delicious noises he could wring from his lover.

"We've really got to leave some stuff in some of the other rooms," Nick panted.

The words registered briefly--only long enough for Warrick to realize they had made their way to the bedroom. He could only assume Nick had guided them there, because he had no memory of it. Barely pausing long enough to remove his own clothes, he toppled Nick back onto the bed. He did have the presence of mind to note Nick was definitely into it, but when he began to move downward, Nick hauled him back up the length of his body.

"I don't want that," Nick sounded almost as frenzied as Warrick felt. "I want you to fuck me." Their eyes locked, "I want all of you, Warrick--everything."

"Greedy," was all Warrick got out before Nick met his lips in another searing kiss. He reached for the night stand and managed to find what he needed without actually looking. His progress was impeded somewhat by Nick arching against him, but he eventually slid one, then two lubed fingers inside.

Nick clutched at Warrick's hips and ass, drawing him closer so that Warrick had a difficult time drawing back enough to roll on the condom. "You're holding back on me, Rick," Nick hooked an ankle around Warrick's thigh. His eyes were black with need. "You don't have to."

Warrick groaned and pressed slowly into the tight opening, but then strong legs wrapped around him, pulled him in deeper.

"C'mon, Rick..." Nick's throaty plea finally shattered what little control Warrick had left and he began thrusting hard and fast.

Warrick never slackened his pace, riding Nick deep and urging the willing body to move with him. Between Nick's moans of encouragement and the storm of feeling that was about to overcome him, Warrick could only bury his face in Nick's neck and let go. As he pitched over the edge into that dark, frightening mass of emotions, Warrick realized he should have known all along Nick would be there to catch him.

What the hell had he ever been worried about? Of course Nick was there. Nick always had his back. Always had him. And so what if he couldn't move? Nick's arms and legs were wrapped around him, so what else did he really need?

"Rick?" Nick was still breathless, but there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Warrick meant to tell Nick that he was a thousand miles past okay, that he felt better than he ever had in his life, and that hey, that is a weird thing to ask after sex, isn't it? Shouldn't it be an old cliché like was it good for you?

All that came out was--"Mmmmm..."

That was enough for Nick, and although he let his legs fall back to the mattress, he kept stroking Warrick's back.

Eventually, Warrick became aware of several things. Like the wetness between them that indicated Nick had been with him all the way and the condom he ought to get rid of even though he didn't want to leave Nick's body. Or that Nick's tremors, which had begun to subside, were beginning to increase again. He pulled out carefully and discarded the condom before rolling back toward Nick. "Babe?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nick said, although he didn't sound fine.

"Tell me, Nicky," Warrick whispered, drawing Nick in close to his side. "Did I hurt you?"

"You know you didn't," Nick replied, and Warrick found he did know that. "But...what now?"

"Now...I set the alarm so we can have a few hours sleep before going into PD," Warrick knew that wasn't what Nick was asking, but he didn't know what Nick was asking, either.

"What if...was that it?"

"What?"

"If...Warrick, I wanted it. It was...amazing, but it won't be like that every time." Nick swallowed hard, "If it's not...if I can't..."

"Hell, baby," Warrick murmured. "If it's like that every time we're never gonna live through the next six months." There was a balance of teasing and honesty in Warrick's words that Nick recognized and understood if the way he relaxed against the larger man was any indication.

"Because I don't know if I could give this up, Rick. Not now. But I--"

"No one's asking you to, Nicky. No way in hell," Warrick tightened his embrace.

Another sigh and Nick rested his head against Warrick's shoulder. "Then I can handle anything else that happens."

Warrick pressed a kiss to Nick's hair before reaching for his alarm clock and setting it. By the time he'd finished, Nick had already slid into an exhausted sleep and Warrick once again had the sound of soft breathing to lull him into peaceful dreams.

* * *

When he finally decided to get up and take a shower, Warrick expected to find his lover in the kitchen scrounging up something to eat and was surprised to see Nick in front of the bathroom sink, staring at himself in a mirror. "Whatcha lookin' at, babe?" Warrick asked, wrapping his arms around Nick's waist and nuzzling his neck.

Nick met Warrick's eyes in the mirror and gave him a sheepish grin. "I look too happy to interview a murder suspect."

"Trying to work up an intimidating glare, Nicky?" Warrick chuckled.

"I can't seem to stop smiling," Nick admitted. He noticed Warrick's smug expression and elbowed the taller man in the ribs. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Warrick kissed Nick's bare shoulder. "But if you're in such a great mood, maybe now would be a good time to cover some stuff."

"Such as?" Nick's expression became inquisitive rather than serious.

"Greg knows about us."

"So?" Nick didn't look upset by the news.

"So are we going to tell people?"

Nick leaned back as Warrick's arms tightened slightly. "Eventually. I've been trying to drop some hints when I talk to Mom, and I think she might be catching on. I don't know about Dad, though."

Warrick barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. "I thought your folks didn't even know you were gay."

"They don't. And I honestly don't know how they'll react. Cisco's fairly liberal--for Texas--but if it's his own son...I don't think they'll disown me or anything, but it might be good that they're two states away when they find out."

"I thought..." Warrick pressed another kiss to Nick's neck. "I thought you had a problem with it."

"I did. I don't anymore," Nick said easily. "Different priorities." He nodded at Warrick in the mirror, "I'm worried, but I've got different perspective on a lot of things. About what bothers me and what doesn't." He ran his fingers over the arms around him, "Would your grandma have been upset?"

"I doubt it," Warrick said confidently. "She was strict about a whole lot of stuff, but that wasn't one of them. She was always concerned about my education, if I tried drugs, if I did anything that might put me on the wrong side of the law. She might have made a few remarks about great-grandchildren, but that would have been it. Besides, she liked you the couple of times she met you."

"Yeah?" Nick grinned. "I liked her too."

"That leaves work."

"Is there a rule about dating co-workers? Do you know?"

"Oh," Warrick laughed. "I wasn't thinking about the rules so much as telling the rest of the team--and Catherine."

"Figures," Nick snorted.

"I remember hearing something about management turning a blind eye if the couple were of equal rank," Warrick added. "So there can't be any rumors about favoritism."

"We're both CSI-3," Nick leaned his head back so he could kiss Warrick's chin. "Even though I have seniority."

"Only five months," Warrick poked him in the stomach.

"So Greg knows..."

"I think Hodges caught on at some point," Warrick said, ignoring the questioning look Nick gave him. "What about everyone else?"

"They're investigators. They'll figure it out eventually," Nick sounded unconcerned with the situation. "Or we can tell them in another few months."

"Okay," Warrick agreed, many of his own fears allayed by Nick's indifference to people knowing about them.

Nick met his eyes again in the mirror. "Well, that didn't work," he grinned. "What else you got?"

Warrick hesitated, but then decided to go for broke. "The feed?"

That sobered Nick immediately. "Did you destroy the copy I gave you?" he asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"No. It's here, but not for long." Another kiss. "I called my bank."

Nick looked baffled at the apparent non-sequiter. "Your bank?"

"I'm putting it in a safety deposit box, and giving you a key. You'll have to notify the bank 24 hours before you can retrieve it." Warrick held Nick's gaze, "This way, neither of us can take it out on impulse."

"Genius," Nick said with honest admiration.

"Of course," Warrick replied as a laugh rumbled through him.

Nick smiled at their reflection again, "You really suck at this, Rick."

Warrick snorted, "Okay, how about this? I'm taking a shower in thirty seconds and if you're still in here when I do, you're takin' one with me and you'll be late for your first suspect interview without Grissom."

"That'll do," Nick detached Warrick's arms and turned to give him a kiss. "I've got to go home to change."

Warrick took a swat as Nick's ass as he headed for the door, "I'll meet you at PD."

"Hey, Jeremy," Nick greeted as he sat down at the table.

"Hi," Jeremy sounded just this side of sullen.

Brass, on the other hand, started his conversation with--"So you told your advocate you didn't want her in here, is that right?"

"Can't stand her," Jeremy's lip curled. "She treats me like a retard."

"And you're not used to that," Nick said. "Your teachers told us you're one of the best students they've got."

Jeremy shrugged.

"Sounds like you get some special treatment," Brass pointed out.

"All the advanced students do," Jeremy shot back.

"They all get marked present even when they aren't?" Brass continued. "Like you did the morning your mom was murdered? Where were you, anyway?"

"I went out for breakfast," Jeremy replied with another shrug.

"Do you go to one of the buffets?" Nick asked with a grin, "Some mornings I could feel like I could clean one of those places out."

"Uh..." Jeremy looked briefly disconcerted. "Yeah, those are pretty good."

Nick nodded his agreement, "Which one did you go to?"

Warrick felt a smile tug at his lips as Jeremy began to stammer, next to him, Grissom was nodding. "He's off to a good start."

"Yeah, he is."

"I'm still not sure about him going out alone, but I'll probably start sending him out with Sara or Greg," Grissom didn't take his eyes from the two-way glass.

Warrick nodded slowly. "But not me," he tried not to sound resentful.

"I'd rather not risk having anyone able to suggest collusion, Warrick."

"Collu--oh." Warrick fell silent, at a loss how to proceed. "Uh...when did you find out?"

"When Catherine told me."

Warrick choked back a laugh despite his discomfort with the situation. If they didn't have the window to concentrate on and had to face each other, he wasn't sure he would get through it at all. "We probably should have told you," he said lamely. "But it was--"

"You weren't obligated to tell me," Grissom cut him off firmly. "Unless it begins to affect your work, it's no one else's business."

"I meant as a friend," Warrick smiled. "But thanks."

Their attention was drawn back to the interrogation as Jeremy's voice began to rise, "--don't even like baseball."

"Really?" Nick opened a folder, still friendly. "Because you've been playing since you were--what? Six?"

"Five," Jeremy muttered.

"By all accounts, you're a pretty good player."

"Like I have a choice," Jeremy's lips curled contemptuously.

"You dad was tough about that?" Brass jumped in. "Started to piss you off?"

"Dad?" Jeremy's voice choked slightly. "He doesn't make me do anything. When I told him I wanted to drop baseball for extra computer classes, he was all for it."

"And your mom?" Nick asked carefully.

"She said it would be pretty hard to study the computer without one."

"She was going to take your computer away if you dropped baseball," Nick clarified.

Jeremy nodded, his hands were clenched into fists on the table. "They would were advanced classes--I would be ahead a semester at university."

"Why wouldn't your mom want that for you?" Brass asked, his disbelief obvious.

"She expected me to get in on a sports scholarship. My grandparents set aside a trust fund for my education!" Jeremy spat. "I'm not supposed to need a scholarship. She got her hands on it--I know she did."

"What makes you say that?"

"Boob job. Face lift. Tummy tuck. She got the works last year. Dad doesn't make enough money for that. She stole my trust fund."

"Then why did you shoot your dad, Jeremy?" Nick asked softly.

Brass gave him a warning glare, and on the other side of the glass, Grissom stiffened. Warrick knew what both men were thinking. This was the wrong time to bring up the crimes--Jeremy could easily see where the questioning was going and clam up.

He didn't, though. Instead Jeremy's lips began to tremble and he suddenly looked much younger. "That was a mistake," he choked out. "I didn't mean to..."

"Eleven times?" Nick didn't raise his voice.

"I don't even remember after the first one," Jeremy's voice caught on a sob. "But he wouldn't listen to me. He never listens when it comes to Mom. He just told me to go along with what she wanted..." His eyes filled, "I just got so...so mad..."

"And your mom?" Nick still managed to sound sympathetic and interested.

Jeremy's entire expression contorted away from sadness into something frightening. "I should have just shot her. I told her what happened--I wanted to scare her...she shook her head and I knew what she was thinking...that she would have whatever was left of the trust...she would have everything." His voice turned into a snarl, "She wanted me to concentrate on baseball. So I practiced my swing." He looked at Nick, "You see why I had to do it."

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," Nick said sadly, standing up. "But no, I don't see it." He left the room as Brass got up and cuffed Jeremy.

Warrick and Grissom left the observation room just as two uniforms were going into interrogation to get Jeremy. They watched with Nick as Jeremy was escorted to a cell. Brass came out and gave Nick a quick clap on the shoulder before following the young murderer.

"You okay?" Warrick asked.

"Yeah," Nick released a heavy sigh. "It's just--I don't he's even truly registered what he's done."

"He'll have a lot of time to think about it," Grissom replied. "I'm sure he'll be tried as an adult."

"He's seventeen," Nick said. "It's close enough. His only shot is insanity, but I don't think he'll qualify under M'naughten."

"I'd thought you lost him for a minute there," Warrick admitted. "But you pulled it off."

"Well, I'll see you both tonight," Grissom said, then glanced at Nick. "Welcome back, Nicky."

Nick watched him go with a bemused smile. "I don't think I'll ever get him."

Warrick chuckled, "You ready to go home, baby?" he asked for Nick's ears only.

"Which home?" Nick raised his eyebrows.

"Does it matter?"

"Nope," Nick flashed one of his long-absent dazzlers. "Not as long as you're there."

END