Title: BFF
Author: Dee
Rating: R
Word Count: 2178
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil, Nick, some team members and an OMC
Warnings: Fluff and (very) AU
Note: A continuation of Facing Up
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments – which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N: This is Part Two of an ongoing saga…in seven parts so far. It will help if you’ve read ‘Facing Up’, which I posted back in February.

It had been nearly a year since the face off between Gil and Nick in Nick’s condo. It was about eleven months since Nick had started therapy.

Nick felt, at times, as if he’d been hammered with a blunt instrument forcing him, with the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders, onto his knees. But that load was beginning to lighten; he was off loading it to Gil and the therapist, Ed, or more properly, Dr Edward Stephens.

Nick tried to be as open and honest as he could be with Ed. He thought it would be pretty useless to go to so much trouble and then hold back - so he was wholeheartedly embracing it, no matter how much it hurt. When he felt as though his load was too heavy to bear, he thought about the old motto, “no pain; no gain.” Nick’d had enough of his old life, he knew he was screwed up and he wanted to be straightened up; to be okay and live without skeletons rattling around his closet just biding their time before they popped out.

When things got bad, which, in truth, was fairly often, he sought out his (now close) friend, Gil. Gil was even an ‘alternative’ therapist for Nick. Nick would tell Gil what he’d said to Ed, how it had made him feel, what Ed had said back and how he’d interpreted it, so that Gil could add his views to the equation.

Gil did not want to undermine anything Ed said to Nick, so most of the time he endorsed his findings. Occasionally he’d add a little extra to the mix, because after all, he did know Nick a lot better than the stranger who listened to, and advised, Nick. Although Ed now seemed less a stranger and more a supportive friend.

Whoever said, ‘it would get worse before it got better’, was certainly telling the truth. Nick never missed work though, even when there were times he felt like crawling under a large rock and staying there. He was prescribed a mild anti-depressant but wouldn’t have taken them if Gil hadn’t insisted. He felt no different for taking it, but Gil said he’d have been much worse if he hadn’t – and Nick could see the logic of that when he thought about some of the traumas he’d heaped on Gil’s front doorstep.

Gil, as far as Nick was concerned, was everything to him, friend, mentor, therapist; he listened to more whining from Nick than he’d heard probably in his entire life but there wasn’t one moment when Nick felt he was intruding on Gil, or being a nuisance.

He’d originally said to Gil that he thought that was what he was doing, ‘intruding’, but Gil would have none of it, he wanted to help and that’s what he’d do – for as long as he was needed he’d be there.

They could see the humour in it, in the past both men admitted debunking therapy as an expensive hobby when a couple of beers, and (for Nick) a workout and (for Gil) a forensic science journal, would do the trick.

Now, they shared moments of Nick’s life that, initially, Gil had felt uncomfortable about, but, he reasoned, if Nick was prepared to tell him, he was prepared to listen.

This caused Gil a lot of amusement, in private, since he knew that if Catherine ever suspected what was going on between them she’d have a major breakdown all of her own. But he was also feeling that he’d been responsible for piling even more pressure onto Nick’s broad back.

While he’d never admit it to Nick, it was his own guilt in this debacle that made him become Nick’s confidante and he’d fulfil that role as often and for as long as he was needed.

Given Gil’s reputation in respect of interpersonal skills he was amazed at his own patience; he also realised, with some astonishment, that it wasn’t a chore to be endured, but had become a welcome diversion in his sterile life. For all his amusement at Catherine’s expense he knew that she would be staggered beyond belief at his role in Nick’s life. More especially that Gil was actually capable of providing such support.

He did have doubts and worries about it though. Gil wondered, as he became more and more involved with Nick, whether he would, or could, support anyone else in this same manner. Was it just Nick that had somehow ‘awakened’ latent skills within Gil – or would he rise to any challenge from any ’colleague’ or ‘friend’? He didn’t know the answer to this question and felt safer not exploring the subject. While he wasn’t exactly afraid of the conclusion he may have drawn from such an exploration – it made him feel uneasy.

One thing that was immediately obvious to him was that this new, emotionally involved Gil Grissom was not on show to anyone else. His behaviour at work was exactly the same as ever – only he and Nick noticed the subtleties of their changing relationship.

As the months had gone by there was no doubting the strength of their relationship. Both men viewed it as a ‘friendship’. But neither man had ever had such a close friend as each had become to the other. Warrick and Greg were what Nick would term his ‘close friends’, but he would never dream of sharing the details or intimacies of his life as he did with Gil. It seemed to Nick that there was nothing that he couldn’t or wouldn’t share with Gil and that made him feel safe and secure.

Nick was sure that he was working better; his theories were sound, his investigations, while always thorough, were just a little bit keener. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder, metaphorically speaking, all the time, comparing himself and his abilities to his team mates. He thought this was because of his therapy sessions.

Gil, on the other hand, was absolutely sure that it was because he, Gil, was doing his job properly, pointing him in the right direction, calling it when necessary but, more importantly, giving him praise when it was earned. Gil thought that he gave him praise quite a lot of the time – not because he was overcompensating but because Nick was actually worthy of that praise. This surprised Gil and compounded his guilt, he hadn’t realised just how good Nick had become.

This became the normal state of affairs for the two men; work, Nick’s therapy and their ‘follow up’ sessions. They would share a meal occasionally, they’d had a picnic in the canyon while bird and bug watching, visited another bird sanctuary and even been out to Death Valley on a bug hunt – Gil was after a rare beetle and the rumour was that it had gravitated to the valley.

It was Nick’s wry observation that a ‘needle in a haystack’ had nothing on a ’beetle in a desert’. Gil had bowed to that analogy and had (temporarily) abandoned his mission, but stored the task for future investigation – and this was where Gil had become a little confused, because he’d assumed, automatically, that ‘future investigation’ would, as a matter of course, involve Nick.

Gil spent some time after his arrival home that evening considering his automatic assumption that Nick would accompany him on his task. He was certain he was closer to Nick than he was to anyone else in his life, and while he counted Catherine and Jim as good friends he wouldn’t ask, or expect, them to accompany him on a bug hunt. He thought it was because Nick was an outdoor type of person anyway – since he had a passion for birds and with that came an understanding of Gil’s passion for insects.

But Gil knew he was deluding himself, Nick was his closest friend not just now, but ever. He’d been a solitary child, not lonely at all, but had never formed the friendships children and teenagers around him did. Since he didn’t know what he was missing he’d never missed it and he was always absorbed in learning something new anyway.

Gil also knew that while Nick shared his secrets with him, he was also sharing his life with Nick. Not that there was a lot to know, truth be told, but he’d never shared much information, even trivial stuff, ever before. He was most amazed by how much he enjoyed it, how much more fun it was to share a funny story and have a person laugh with you, or retell a sad episode and have someone like Nick empathise with you – he was turning into a regular ‘touchy feely kinda guy’.

When Gil actually shared this information with Nick, one evening when they were having a barbeque and a few beers, he’d laughed heartily when Nick had deadpanned that Gil’s ‘touchy feely kinda guy’ was, like, a million miles away from normal touchy feely type people. Gil could see the absolute truth in Nick’s observation.

Nick, however, had become really annoyed with himself for implying that Gil wasn’t that type of person and at Gil himself for underestimating his own abilities. He pointed out to Gil that he was indeed that ‘new’ guy. He remembered and told Gil how kind Gil had been and had even hugged him when he’d had been so upset all that time ago.

The memory sobered Gil. He remembered it himself; he’d really surprised himself and had wondered where the know how to comfort had come from. It was his mother, of course, and as they ate the last of their barbequed food and drank their beers, he recounted tales of his mother and his boyhood to Nick. Nick felt privileged to be the confidante for a change; he viewed it as a fair exchange.

They were unbelievably busy at work - if it wasn’t triple homicides, it was major fires or major accidents. It was ‘major’ everything – no one could remember a minor incident and most of them were pulling doubles and even a couple of triples. As far as Gil could tell everyone was handling the pressure well, this was his team and they could and would do their best jobs, whatever the circumstances.

It was nearly three weeks before Gil realised that he hadn’t seen Nick out of work during all that time – they had been extraordinarily busy but Gil was sure that Nick would have had at least two sessions with Ed and Nick had always reported back to him.

Gil tried Nick’s cell – it was switched off – not surprising, he wasn’t on call and was probably fast asleep, as Gil should have been. He left a message and went to his own bed. He was surprised that he hadn’t had a response from Nick by work time. Gil was uneasy but he couldn’t quite grasp why.

When Gil arrived at work Nick was already in the locker room chatting with Warrick. He didn’t interrupt. When assignments were handed out, for the first time weeks they were able to go solo on a number of fairly minor investigations. Gil didn’t have any opportunity to speak privately with Nick until shift was nearly over. Gil proposed a breakfast at a favourite diner. Nick had declined saying he was still sleep deprived.

It wasn’t exactly odd that he’d declined but Nick was always most apologetic for being unavailable and would eagerly suggest another time and date. But not this time. Gil thought that perhaps he was just too tired but, in truth, he hadn’t seemed, or looked, that way to Gil.

Gil couldn’t let this go; his two pieces of evidence were conclusive. In the past year Nick had never left a message from him unanswered and Nick had never blown him off over an invitation to a meal. If these two things had happened with months separating them he would’ve accepted them quite readily but both anomalies had been within a twenty four hour period and were completely out of character for Nick; the Nick who was Gil’s friend.

The journey home for Gil was…he couldn’t think of a word to describe how he felt as he pulled his truck onto his driveway. He sat in the truck staring at his garage door and thought of words that would explain his feelings. Worried. Puzzled. Apprehensive. Concerned. Upset. Injured. Abandoned. Sad. Lonely.

He pulled himself out of his reverie, ’for God’s sake what’s wrong with you, you’re pathetic’. But no matter how much he admonished himself for his thoughts he knew, absolutely, that he felt all of those things but most especially he felt ‘sad’ and ‘lonely’. They were new and strange feelings for Gil.

A very dejected man left his truck, locked it and made his way into his home. It wasn’t really a home, mostly it was where he ate and slept and did perfunctory things. It only felt like a home….it only felt like a home when Nick was there.

Nick was impressed with himself; despite the major trauma he was currently undergoing, he was certain that no one (for ‘no one’ - read Gil Grissom) had picked up on this new turmoil. They’d been very busy at work and that’d helped to mask his anxiety.

Ed had upped his prescription, quite substantially, from his low dose of anti-depressants and although he’d been told it could be several weeks before their effect actually kicked in, Nick chose to believe in the ‘placebo effect’ – that just because he was taking them they were helping, regardless of whether they were or not.

It’d happened so suddenly. He’d been prepared to talk about anything and everything and had been encouraged by Ed’s assessment of his progress and prognosis. But he’d been blindsided by a revelation he hadn’t remembered – he’d hoped it’d never happened - but that assertion was untrue. What made it worse was that it had been triggered by an evening spent with Gil. An evening he’d enjoyed so much and had thought Gil had too.

At his next session he’d mentioned this particular evening and the consequences. He’d known there was something not quite right; he couldn’t put his finger on it but Ed had probed further and like projectile vomiting (and Nick had thought about this analogy after the event), it was spewing forth from his mouth, an incident that’d happened when he was sixteen. At first he thought that it was buried so far beneath his consciousness he had truly forgotten it. But, whatever, it was back with a vengeance.

Young Nick was sports mad, not only was he an ‘A’ student but he was on the school hockey and baseball teams and a major player with the soccer team. Out of season he practised regularly – it kept him away from his family and home and he was happy about that, although he would have denied that information if he’d been quizzed. If the weather was bad or as the nights got darker there were only half a dozen or so ‘die-hards’ who would turn up.

He was friendly with a boy nearly a year older than him. Mitch was a good looking boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was also a good student and a good all-round athlete and was, everyone agreed, a nice boy. He was destined, like Nick, for good things – for the top.

This one Saturday about ten of them had trained; it was cold and damp and the late afternoon sun faded more quickly than usual with the overcast sky. Most of the boys had packed up and gone and Mitch and Nick had volunteered to stay behind to tidy the locker room and clean the equipment. This was no hardship for Nick, it meant less time at home.

Neither boy had showered and Mitch said he was going to do so, then he’d be ready to go out later with his friends. He’d invited Nick to go with him to meet his friends since he would know most of the ‘crowd’ anyway, but Nick felt that he would be an intruder and the ‘crowd’ would see him as a boy of sixteen to their ‘grown up seventeens’.

But Nick had decided to shower too; it would delay him going home for at least another thirty minutes. They were not shy in the communal shower; they’d both done team sports long enough for it to be normal.

Nick could honestly not remember if he had stared at Mitch as they showered, but he clearly remembered Mitch getting his attention and holding a burgeoning erection in his hand and asking whether Nick was able to ‘produce the goods’. Of course Nick had been masturbating virtually daily for at least two years – he’d been really worried that he could actually be blinded by it, but had read some school stuff that had assured him that was a fallacy….a ‘phallacy’?

What Nick remembered, now, was that just the question and the sight of Mitch pumping his hand up and down had been enough for three things to happen simultaneously. A whole body flush – he was sure his toes were blushing and his ears were certainly burning. His own dick was almost instantly hard – as hard as Mitch’s. And, he had a grin on his face that he would later learn to call ‘shit eating’.

Mitch was aware of these facts and grinned back; he moved in towards Nick until their dicks were touching and caught hold of both of them together with his hand and told Nick to hold on too. Nick did what he was told, without question, and he was transported to a heaven he’d never experienced before – an alien hand on him.

How much more wonderful, hotter, tighter, smoother, rougher, and everything else it was, than his own hand. He thought that he may have thirty seconds before his load would be dumped on their hands. He was sure it would be the happiest thirty seconds of his entire life.

Then something else happened, and this event was what probably caused all of the problems from then, right up to his present days in Las Vegas. Mitch used his spare arm to wrap around Nick’s neck and pulled Nick in close to him and kissed him full on the mouth.

If the mutual jerking was sexual excitement personified the kiss transported him to an entirely different plain. It was open mouthed, wetter even than the water from the shower and Mitch’s tongue plunged as far into Nick’s mouth as it could go, feeling Nick’s own tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth. It was sensational in every aspect.

Nick knows that he moaned and that his climax overcame him, just as Mitch came too. Nick fell back against the shower wall and Mitch went with him still clinging to him. They were both gasping for air and certainly Nick was properly sexually satisfied for his very first time, in his short life.

Mitch eventually pulled away and they washed themselves down in silence although both had shy glances at each other; strangely, neither boy felt embarrassed at themselves or their bodies. When they’d dried off and were packed up and ready to leave Mitch told Nick to think about him during the week and that he’d see him next Saturday and he kissed Nick on the lips again, but chastely this time. Like Nick might kiss a girl.

Nick never did see Mitch that next Saturday, or any other day for that matter. On the Wednesday following the best night of Nick’s life, Mitch, his younger sister, Paige and their mother were killed in an auto wreck.

The whole school mourned but Nick was beyond devastated and in his mind their deaths equated to the punishment for his (and Mitch’s) enjoyment of their sordid encounter in the shower.

(It would be a very long time before Nick experienced the same pleasure he’d had that Saturday evening with Mitch.)

Nick relived the devastation he’d felt at Mitch’s death but it was now further compounded by his lost memory of the event. He could not understand HOW he’d forgotten THAT, when it had such a profound effect on his life at the time.

He had forsaken sports, as indeed had other team mates, and concentrated on his academic studies, but somehow he’d forgotten to remember. Ed explained that it was a classic system of coping; it was beyond his youthful comprehension so his mind had shut it out.

Nick was still confused about it, because he remembered every single detail of the babysitter’s assault on him, but this was far more significant and he’d just forgotten. Again Ed had tried to explain that Nick’s memories of the assault had been kept intact because it was an attack on him, he hadn’t invited it or wanted it and as terrible as it was, on its own, there wasn’t another major trauma associated with it.

The experience with Mitch was Nick’s first sexual encounter and had been thrilling and illicit and then it had been followed, almost immediately, by the terrible trauma of Mitch’s tragic death, along with his mother and sister.

In Nick’s mind there was no one left to blame but Nick, so he blamed himself, but somewhere along the line and it could have been weeks, months or years, but was likely to be a few months, Nick’s brain just said ’enough is enough - I can’t cope with this’ so shut it out completely.

But there were no hard and fast rules about this sort of emotional trauma, they were individual events. Circumstances at the time often dictated what the outcome could or would be. For a hundred traumas that were basically the same, there could be a hundred different responses.

Nick was able to grasp this concept but then he had to move into another arena and try and come to terms with why an evening with Gil Grissom triggered his memory of Mitch.

Ed had a theory about this too, but was sure to tell Nick that it was only his theory and that together they would need to spend time exploring Nick’s relationship issues – but he assured Nick, as he had a fair number of times before – this was never an easy journey to make but if you wanted to reach a final destination intact and in control, then these detours and potholes had to be negotiated.

Ed had been able to double the sessions over the next few weeks, at Nick’s request – Nick wanted to get to the root of the problem. Nick’d had enough and as much he groaned, inwardly, at the ‘journey’ analogy he needed to complete that journey. He’d been stuck in the no passing lane for too long – even he was contributing to the analogy – but in his case he wanted a road race, not a gentle drive down memory lane. Ed was willing to go so far but would put the brake on to slow it down if there was too much agony and introspection for Nick to deal with comfortably.

Nick had ached to share the analogy with Gil – they would have laughed and surely made some jokes about it – but Nick was now at a loss to imagine what could be funny about the mess he’d conjured up. And, to compound all of this, once again Nick Stokes was contemplating leaving Las Vegas.

Nick had told Ed about the evening spent with Gil at his condo. The barbeque and beer had been good and the conversations even better - relaxed and friendly. What had particularly struck Nick that night was how much of his own life Gil had been prepared to share with him. Gil was a very private man and it was his privilege to hear the stories of Gil’s childhood and youth and about his mother who seemed to Nick to be just about perfect – he remembered that Gil had told him, before that night actually, that his mother had insisted on a hug every day. Nick could not summon up one memory of his own mother hugging him.

Gil had told him funny stories, about his relationship with his chemistry set and sad stories, about the loss of a favourite dog; they’d spent hours together, longer than they normally did at each other’s homes.

Gil had made fun of himself and his ‘emo’ status and Nick had berated him, because despite what he thought he had turned Nick’s life around. If Gil had not visited his condo on that fateful day, Nick would’ve left Vegas and his problems would’ve just continued, spiralling out of control. Nick did have to concede, at Gil’s insistence, that Gil had exacerbated the situation beforehand.

But the evening had been wonderful, and when Gil had left they’d both been relaxed and as happy with the world as they could be – given their particular circumstances. It had struck Nick that maybe Gil wasn’t actually a ‘private person’ at all – he just didn’t know how to share because he’d never had anyone with whom to share. This made Nick feel very content with himself, with Gil, and, what the heck, with the world.

The trouble had started after Nick had fallen asleep.

He dreamed - and he was absolutely certain that it was for the very first time - that he and Gil were lovers. The details were vivid and sexually exciting, Nick ejaculated in his sleep – a wet dream - for the first time in he didn’t know how long.

When he awoke he was embarrassed, even on his own in the dark he could feel his blush burning his face and neck. When he remembered what he’d dreamed Gil was doing to him it made him groan with renewed excitement. He hauled himself out of bed having decided a shower would serve two purposes, clean him up and cool him down.

While in the shower he remembered his father having a very embarrassing talk with him about ‘matters he shouldn’t concern himself with’. Basically, his father had told him at his age he might experience ’night-time emissions’, while he was asleep, and that they were perfectly normal for a growing boy. Nick sniggered when he was out of his father’s way. Nick was always awake when he had his ‘night-time emissions’ and always gave them a helping hand!

He chuckled as he remembered the story, but soon sobered up when the embarrassment about Gil and the dream returned. Maybe it was just a one time thing, an anomaly, he’d be okay. He didn’t see Gil the next night but when he slept again he had virtually the same dream but this time he played a more active part in it and he’d given Gil pleasure. It hadn’t been a wet dream but when he awoke, suddenly, he was so hard it hurt and he had no choice but to use his hand to reach his much needed release.

He was overcome by the intensity of his climax and he had stuttered Gil’s name as he spurted the fluid over his hand and belly. He was too shocked to move but he did eventually fall back to sleep. He dreamt of Catherine and Sara physically fighting in the lab, but it was so not erotic that Nick was actually relieved when he awoke a second time.

By the time of his next therapy session they’d all been so busy he hadn’t needed to avoid Gil; they hardly had time to speak about work let alone anything else and that suited Nick just fine. Except that every time he slept it was with an increasingly erotic Gil.

He was also worried that it didn’t put him off sleeping, he was bone tired, they all were, and he’d expected the dreams would make him actually ‘sleepless’. But they didn’t, it turned out he was happy to sleep ‘with Gil’. More than happy.

His therapy continued and as promised Ed was delving into his ‘relationships’, not with his family and friends but his sexual relationships. Nick became reticent for the first time in his sessions and Ed sensed it but gently pursued this avenue, convinced that a real breakthrough was imminent. In fact, Ed, while neither a Freudian nor Jungian by training or inclination, thought that this may well be the key to Nick Stokes.

Most men would be freaked out about having erotic dreams about a male co-worker, admittedly now a close friend. Nick didn’t appear to be bothered about the dreams per se, just that they would ruin his friendship with Dr Grissom.

Nor had Nick been concerned about the encounter he’d had in the school showers – merely that he’d forgotten the encounter. Ed thought that Nick was on the verge of a huge personal revelation – he hoped he’d cope, but somehow thought, (Was it a good idea for therapists to have such hope?) that Nick would be absolutely fine with it - following the initial shock, of course.

The probing was gentle – asking about family, friends, before the babysitter, after the babysitter, graduating to Nick’s first girlfriend. No further major problems surfaced; a lot of the groundwork had been done before but the girlfriend was the first time they’d spoken of the teenaged Nick in any detail.

He was popular; very good looking – he’d admitted this sheepishly as though he’d no idea why anyone would think he was – and he’d had girls flocking around him from about age twelve, but was more concerned about sports until puberty hit and after the initial shock and bit of making out, was still more concerned about sports.

He’d been happy enough masturbating; he’d ‘dated’ girls, but had never done more than kiss them and had certainly never dared put his tongue in their mouths – that was just too disgusting.

It didn’t take much probing for Ed to let Nick discover that his best and most satisfying sexual experience, ever, had been with Mitch. Another reason to blot it out, in Ed’s opinion. As it turned out Ed was right again, despite having the ‘ladies man’ tag Nick was more of a ‘guy’s man’ and Nick actually knew it, so it didn’t come as a surprise; but it was like he didn’t know it either – and nor was that a surprise.

Nick had never had another sexual encounter with a boy or man. He’d hardly had any encounters of any kind. He lost his virginity to a friend of one of his sisters, when he was twenty, and his poor performance was common knowledge among his sisters and their friends the following day.

He’d had loads of girls as friends and had spent nearly a year with one girlfriend – she’d been so frightened of having sex there was no pressure on Nick and her parents had thought him a wonderful young man and a perfect husband-to-be for their frigid little daughter – even Nick wasn’t that stupid.

Therefore his sexual exploits were far and few between culminating in the very last time. A complete and utter disaster with a hooker. She’s ended up dead right after he’d been with her; Nick had been the prime suspect and very nearly lost everything. His avowed intention from that day on was to do it himself – it would save a lot of problems.

What he found almost amusing was telling people and Gil in particular, about how wonderful she’d been, ‘hot’ and ‘irresistible’ when the truth was very different. He’d been lonely and wanted company, the thought of sex with someone he knew, who’d then ridicule him for his lack of skills, was not on the cards.

The hooker, Kirsty, was a nice girl, despite her profession, and in the end he’d told her about his past sexual endeavours and she’d offered her ’professional’ help. She’d been patient with him and helped him, but it had still been difficult to get hard, stay hard, penetrate and ejaculate.

Ed thought he saw a light go on above Nick’s head. He’d been telling him about the erotic dreams about Gil and about how, if he thought about him, any time, any place, he’d get a hard-on. How embarrassing it was - especially if it happened at work.

“Oh, my God!”

“What Nick?”

“I just never thought about it, I really hadn’t!”

“About?”

“All of this. I’m gay for God’s sake Ed; I’m fucking gay!”

The therapist, any therapist, as a general rule, would never agree with a statement such as this. They would discuss it, mull it over, chew it, digest it, regurgitate as necessary. So it came as a big surprise to him when Ed heard himself say.

“That’s what I think, Nick.”

Of course Ed had then said it wasn’t an ‘absolute’ and it needed to be more thoroughly explored (hedging his bets here) to get Nick to feel comfortable with the revelation and in fact explore the truth of it.

But when Nick left Ed’s office that morning, he felt better, lighter, even happier than he had in…he couldn’t remember when. It was all so obvious, so why hadn’t he seen it, how could he not recognise it? There was no doubt that he was a regular dumbass…how could he NOT have known?

He’d never been homophobic in his life. But he stopped dead in front of his truck – his family had, all of them, without exception. His school friends, his college friends, his Texas friends in general had – all of them, without exception; his EMT colleagues and especially his cop colleagues - all of them, without exception.

He stood there and thought that the only place he’d ever been that hadn’t had that repressive atmosphere was Las Vegas – sure a cop here and there might make a comment, but generally speaking everyone was fairly liberal.

He knew Gil was……that thought brought him to his senses and he hauled himself into his truck. But, here he was with a very obvious crush on Gil and the man was straight – well he would be, wouldn’t he – Nick’s luck was non existent.

Nick drove home, and remembered all too clearly that just that morning he’d blown Gil away when he‘d asked about breakfast. That was unfair and ungracious behaviour and if nothing else ever happened between them he needed to apologise for that.

Would he tell Gil? Confide in the man who knew all his secrets, well, almost all as it turned out. He had some difficult decisions to make. But, the funny thing was, he thought he could make them. All his life he’d prevaricated, been bullied into this and that, drifted until he’d found his niche in life – and he was absolutely certain, as he never had been before that he belonged here and come what may he was staying put. He was not going to leave Las Vegas.

Gil lived with Sara’s crush and she positively drooled over him and could be real mean to anyone she thought Gil was favouring more than her. She didn’t have favourites – everyone bore the brunt of her moods – the moods that were worse than all his sisters put together and then some. Perhaps Gil didn’t know how bad she was behind his back. So, maybe, Gil could live with Nick’s crush.

Nick might tell Gil or he might not, but one thing was for sure, he would be responsible and reasonable about it, because ‘hey’ that’s what he was, all of a sudden. His own man, he must have known he was gay subconsciously and now everything clicked into place.

Sure, he’d need more therapy, he wasn’t naïve about that and he’d been on anti-depressants for almost a year now, but he’d gradually reduce the dose himself – he’d tell Ed about that at the next session, but everything felt better; was better, much better.

He was then struck by another thought about his anti-depressants - perhaps this lighter mood was the result of the higher dose he’d been on for about three weeks now – Ed had said they’d take time to have an effect. Well he didn’t care now, drugs or not he did feel better and he’d move on with his life, and reduce those pesky pills.

Nick found himself parked outside his condo and was staggered – most people lost a little time occasionally - but he’d lost the whole journey while on auto pilot. Whoops, better take more care, but there were no sounds of car horns or police sirens in his mind, so he must have done okay.

He went to bed and slept well, he didn’t dream of Gil and was actually sad about that. When he woke, he was ravenous and was about to raid his empty refrigerator when he thought of his putdown to Gil that very morning and also his failure to respond to a message Gil had left yesterday. So he picked up his cell and hit ‘1’ – his speed dial to Gil.Gil answered after a couple of rings and sounded groggy.

“Sorry to wake you man, d’you want to eat before we go in tonight?” He was bright and confident and felt like a new man – should that be a new ‘gay’ man?

“Well……yeah…..that would be good. I need to rouse myself and shower though, say about an hour?”

“That’d be good. Usual place?”

“Yes.” Gil was fully awake now, “and Nick…thank you for calling.”

“You’re welcome, see you soon.” Nick said and snapped his cell closed.

Whoever said, ‘today is the first day of the rest of my life’, he thought, got it spot on, because it is, it definitely is. He was still ravenous though – he must have something, somewhere, he could snack on until he could eat properly. He found some chips and devoured them before hitting his own shower.

Gil was not often surprised; he was old enough to have encountered most situations and could cope with virtually anything life threw at him. Well, that was before Nick Stokes had come his way, before he’d invested time in helping to put right the wrongs he’d done to the young man.

But, this was one such time. Gil had gone to bed, tired and lonely; wracking his brain for some evidence that would explain Nick’s behaviour toward him this last day. He couldn’t think of anything he’d actually done to upset him, he’d hardly seen him; they’d all been so busy. Perhaps that was it, Nick was feeling abandoned again.

But, he’d spoken to him and called him, only the once, admittedly, in nearly three weeks and he’d invited him to breakfast this morning but Nick had claimed he was too tired when, in fact, he looked better and healthier than any other member of the team - actually everyone in the entire lab. All these thoughts and images swirled around Gil’s brain and as a consequence, he’d tossed and turned and slept badly

Gil felt weary as he made his way to his bathroom to get himself ready. He was still worried about Nick but he was so relieved to have had the call from him and that they were going out to eat before work, but, there was an additional worry now. Nick sounded happy and relaxed when he’d spoken – there was just something else about Nick’s voice that Gil couldn’t ever remember hearing before.

Trust him to be perverse, Nick sounds better so he’s more worried. That’s about right – anticipating problems that might not even exist – but Gil had that uneasy feeling yet again. He’d had it lingering around for, maybe, a couple of months but now it popped up with more frequency and definitely more strength. ’Go with the flow, just go with the flow.’ He repeated a mantra he’d heard Greg say before now.

When Gil pulled up at the diner, Nick’s truck was already parked. Gil remembered the first time he’d ever been to this place – they’d walked from Nick’s condo. It was the night Nick had told him about the babysitter but it was also, Gil liked to believe, the beginning of their real friendship.

He was feeling uneasy alright, so uneasy he was actually nauseous (unless that was just hunger pangs), but there was no use putting off what was to come – it may be nothing at all – god, when had he become so melodramatic?

‘No.’ he told himself, he was right to be uneasy because Nick was sitting in the exact same booth. It was ‘superstitious’. ‘I do not believe in that mumbo-jumbo’, he repeated to himself as he walked over and slid into the booth, sitting opposite Nick.

Nick looked good, he was bright and smiling and very relaxed; he was wearing a long sleeved tee that hugged his gym-honed torso. There was no hint of tiredness about him and frankly, confronted with this display of a young man in his prime, Gil felt old and jaded. Then he immediately felt guilty. Nick had endured more difficulties in his life than Gil could ever have imagined and he was coming out the other end now, healing and coping; he would succeed and move on.

There.

He’d said it to himself and that was the crux of his unease. Nick had needed him and Gil had provided the support and help as much as he could but now Nick was healing and didn’t need Gil so much, if at all, and he would move on - without Gil.

Gil sat back in the booth and took some deep breaths, at least he’d identified the source, uncovered the evidence and as unpalatable as it now seemed, his time was up, but he’d had a good time, actually the best time he could remember.

He was suddenly aware of Nick speaking to him, a concerned voice and look asking if he was okay. He was just, well, still tired actually and hungry, yes, very hungry.

“Ain’t that the truth man, I had to raid my empty ice box and cupboards to find a bag of chips and I could eat a horse, man. Not that I would, y’know, eat a horse!” Nick was so happy to be with Gil again he’d instantly regretted trying to distance himself from him. If he wasn’t, exactly, going to tell him the truth tonight, he was going to, eventually. He’d decided that Gil deserved to hear what he had to say and how he took it was up to him. But he hoped against hope that they would remain friends.

They ordered a platter of grilled meats for Nick and a chicken salad for Gil; even as he ordered he groaned inwardly. ‘Déjà vu’.

“Well, I guess you want to play catch up, eh Gil? First and foremost though I want to apologise. I’ve been really bad these last weeks ‘bout keeping in touch and it’s entirely my fault. I feel bad about it and ’specially about you asking me to breakfast this morning and I just blew you off man. I’m sorry.”

Gil was astounded, not only was Nick looking really good, but he’d morphed into some sort of ‘cowboy speak’. His Texan drawl as prominent as Gil had ever heard. Before Gil could speak Nick continued.

“It’s just like, man; I’ve had a sorta breakthrough with the therapy an’ all. I just needed to come to terms with it y’know? I feel like I’m getting better Gil, real better!” He finished up with a huge grin and despite Gil’s serious misgivings about his own position in Nick’s new life - he was really pleased for him, he really was; he returned the grin.

“This is such good news Nicky, it really is; do you know it’s sooner than I expected – I did expect you to recover but thought it would take longer. I’m really pleased for you!”

‘He called me ‘Nicky’’, was all Nick could focus on.

“Well, I’d be lying if I’d said these last few weeks were easy, Gil, ‘cause they weren’t and I’ve made a few discoveries that’ll help me…..well, y’know for the rest of my life.”

“Whatever these revelations are Nick, if you choose to share them then I’ll support you, you know that. I’m just so pleased that you’re feeling, and certainly looking, better…..” Gil’s unease had returned, he wondered if Nick was taking drugs, other than the anti-depressant that he knew were prescribed. “….are you still going to go to therapy?”

“Y’bet your ass man, it’s getting real interesting!”

“That’s good then, very good.” Their meals arrived and they gave up talking to dig into the much needed food.

Gil was still reeling from the change in Nick and Nick was still thinking about Gil calling him ‘Nicky’, he’d hadn’t done that like, forever, man.

As they finished their main meals, they sat back both feeling a lot fuller than they had been. They declined desserts but had coffees. A cold hand clutched Gil’s heart as Nick took the mug in both hands and leaned forward, elbows on the table and looked straight into Gil’s eyes.

“A lot has happened Gil, an’ I’m going to tell you, but I don’t think I can just now, as good as I feel I need to adjust, myself. D’you understand?”

“Of course I do Nick, don’t be concerned about telling me things. If you need to tell me I will listen, if you can’t tell me or don’t want to tell me, that’s absolutely fine, absolutely fine. Do you understand me?” Gil concluded.

“I do man, I wouldn’t be where I am now but for you, Gil.”

“Don’t forget to remember that I put you there in the first place, Nick.”

“Well, there is that, man, but as it turns out, there’s a lot more to it.”

“Isn’t there always? We know that from our work Nick, we think we’ve got it covered and then unearth another clue in the puzzle. But can I ask you one thing, just the one thing?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“When did you start talking like in an old cowboy film?” Gil asked this with a grin in place.

Nick laughed out loud and blushed. “Hell, if this ain’t the way ya’all speak down Texas way……..of course, Gilbert, if you wish me to speak in a more proper manner then I will, just say the word, my man!”

Nick’s feigned English accent was atrocious, easily worse than Dick van Dyke in ‘Mary Poppins’, and they were both laughing, heartily.

“I think, to answer your question Gil, it maybe me being nervous an’ all…some of these things, Gil, are, y’know, life altering”

Gil sobered at that statement and moved closer to Nick as he leaned on the table, “I’ll be here for you Nick, whenever, whatever. I’ve said it before and I mean it. We’re friends now, I think, aren’t we…..” a little quiver of uncertainty rushed through him, “…..I know that I count you as a close friend now and I’m not about to break the trust you have in me.”

“BFF, Gil, that us an’ all!” Nick said this light-heartedly but he wanted to hug Gil so badly, it hurt.

“Wha….?”

“’Best Friends Forever’, Gil, y’know, a girlie thing.”

“Rigghhtt! Okay, BFF it is then!”

They laughed together and both of them truly hoped that indeed they were, ‘BFF’.

They made their way to work in their separate trucks; both feeling considerably better than they had in a long time.

Even work treated them more kindly, they were all able to catch up on paperwork and clear up outstanding tests and those niggling little things that needed to be done but always got left. The whole shift seemed somehow to be a little more carefree than normal.

Greg, feeling magnanimous, made his special coffee for the team and they ate together for the first time in what seemed like months. Gil and Nick couldn’t face more than one pizza slice each and both left some of that, but they were all in good moods, even Sara wasn’t too bad.

Greg later sniggered to Nick that it must be the only day of the month she didn’t have PMS. Nick actually shuddered at the thought, and when Greg queried his reaction he said. “Five sisters man, don’t go there!”

After shift, Nick caught up with Gil again just before he left and asked what he had planned, apart from sleep. Since the response was ’nothing’, they arranged to meet up again for dinner at another diner before shift. As Gil was driving home his cell rang, he checked the traffic before answering; it was Nick.

Change of plan, skip tonight and go to his condo tomorrow night because they were both off the following day. Sounded like a plan, so Gil readily agreed. He could do with a good sleep and he had chores to do.


They both slept exceptionally well; Nick had Gil back with him in his dreams, so he was more than happy. Gil dreamt that Catherine was banging on his office windows yelling at him to tell her about Nick, and Sara was yelling at Catherine to leave him alone, ‘Who, Nick?’, ‘No, Gil, he’s mine you whore!”

Unfortunately Gil was disturbed by a dog barking in the street outside and never got to finish this particular dream sequence, more’s the pity, he’d’ve enjoyed a good fight, These were his last thoughts as he drifted back to sleep.

Work was busier that next shift but it was all good news for the team – every single case they got was solved – a very rare occurrence and Catherine said they should have breakfast together to celebrate their success. They all agreed and joined up at a buffet at the ‘New York, New York’. Home, of course, to one of Gil’s favourite roller coaster rides.

The buffet was their usual affair, Sara desperate to sit next to Gil, Sofia snagging one side of Gil just to spite her and Jim the other side, because Sofia told him to. Catherine was cosying up to Warrick and Nick had Sara scowling next to him, she really did remind him of his sisters, all of them, put together, he thought ungraciously.

He then backtracked because he could well be in the same position as her, pining after the same man who was just as unattainable to both of them. At least Nick hoped he would still have Gil’s friendship; Sara was too obsessed with Gil to even try to be friendly, with him or anyone else. ‘Own worst enemy’, thought Nick, ‘she’d benefit from therapy.’ He mused, knowingly.

They congratulated themselves with a toast of orange juice and they all ate their fill. They then went their separate ways. Gil actually declined to ride the ride; he felt it would be unpleasant for anyone below him, if he vomited over the side of the carriage as he ‘looped the loop’. Next time he’d ride before he ate.

Gil went home with a lighter feeling about him that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Nick did have something to tell him and he would do so in his own good time, perhaps this evening, who knew? He was going to do his chores, dry cleaning, groceries, washing, the least cleaning he could get away with and a good sleep to prepare for later.

As he was going to sleep, Gil suddenly had a chuckling fit, remembering how Sofia had stitched Sara up. Jim had told him he was under strict instructions to sit beside Gil and keep ‘that Sidle woman’ out. Gil wondered about Sofia, he thought she was very beautiful – perhaps he should ask her out to dinner some time, but then, would Sara kill her? He drifted off to sleep a contented man.

The day went well for Nick, he’d already made a comprehensive list for grocery shopping and a few other items he wanted, so he’d stopped off at the store and the mall and had everything he needed. When he’d packed it all away, he cleaned up his condo, he was (usually) a pretty tidy guy anyway, so it wasn’t too bad and he’d done some stuff the day before.

He was tired when he went to bed but excited like a kid waiting for Christmas morning. He wondered if he would get the present he wanted; he really needed to steel himself for disappointment.

Gil was straight, he was pretty certain of that, mind you, he’d thought he was fairly straight, but odd, himself, until a few days ago, so….. But Gil had dated, he knew there was that lab tech who didn’t like Pink Floyd and there was the anthropologist woman, Gil had told him he’d abandoned her in a restaurant, forgetting all about her when he’d been called to a scene.

There was, of course, Sara, and Gil had never spoken out of turn about her, but it was fairly common knowledge down at the lab that while he admired her criminalistic skills, he’d never shown any interest in her in any other way – no one knew what had gone on with them before she came to Vegas, but Nick was as certain as he could be that whatever it was, it was only in Sara’s imagination. He just hoped he’d cope with….whatever, in a more dignified manner. He was sure he would. That was his last thought before sleep overtook him.

He awoke in a sticky mess just before his alarm was due to go off. He was used to the mess now, and he wasn’t bothered, the dreams didn’t even wake him any more, but he slept better than ever and he was pleased with that.

He went to shower and thought of Sara again, he wondered if she had erotic dreams about Gil, if she did she wouldn’t get messed up that was sure, he chuckled to himself. He’d ask Catherine about women’s dreams; she always liked talking about that sort of thing on the way to and from crime scenes. He’d learned some interesting little titbits from Catherine over the few years he‘d been in Vegas.

After showering he put his bed linen and clothes in the washer, and tidied up and set about preparing dinner, nothing too fancy, salad stuff he knew Gil liked and steaks for grilling. When he’d prepared that he started on his lounge area, putting scented candles around the room and fluffing cushions, when he’d finished he looked around and groaned, ‘Just how GAY am I, for God’s sake, he’ll walk in here look around and walk straight out. Imbecile Stokes.’ So Nick extinguished all the candles and put them away in a cupboard under the sink. He just put a lamp on by the couch and left it at that.

Gil arrived ahead of schedule, as he did most times. When he entered the lounge he commented on the lovely smell. Nick blushed and said it was air freshener. He went to fetch a beer for Gil and when he turned around Gil was leaning on the kitchen door jamb, his usual position. But Nick was suddenly hyper-sensitive. He noticed the trimmed beard, the skin, tanned and healthy, the soft curls of his hair – he bet they’d be a nightmare to keep tidy if he’d ever had longer hair – would Gil ever have had longer hair? The greying temples of said hair, made him look very distinguished. The soft look of his body, he did need to lose a few, but hey, he bet he’d be comfortable to lie on.

“Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to hand me the beer?” Gil sounded amused.

”Oh, errrr, sorry man just thinking, is all.” He blushed, a deep red, he could feel it on his neck and on the top of his chest where his shirt was open a couple of buttons. He’d better pull himself together; he wanted to be seen as a capable man, not a blithering idiot. Gil did not suffer fools gladly.

“No problem Nick, you go ahead and think just don’t let me die of dehydration in the meantime!”

“If you’re gettin’ dehydrated man, y’don’t need alcohol, y’need water, shall I get it and put the beer back?”

“Oh; I see you’re getting sassy now you’re better, well at least you’re right about the alcohol, so I’ll pretend you have my well being in mind, shall I?”

“Y’do that. Here’s your beer, I’ll start the chow if y’all are ready?”

“I am indeed, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Need any help?”

“Nope. Got it covered.”

Gil watched Nick work, and was struck at the symmetry of his movements as he prepared and cooked the food, he had noticed it at scenes, his movements were lithe and almost, what, cat like?

“Hey, put some music on man.” Nick could make this request quite happily in his own condo, because he knew what CDs he owned. It was a different matter altogether at Gil’s place – goodness knows where he found some of the stuff he called music – but Nick had stopped asking for background music after a few requests. It was a joke between them and Nick smiled as he thought about it. A few moments later that smile turned into a frown. He went into the lounge.

“What the….?”

Gil was standing grinning at him, “Didn’t think much of your choice so I took the liberty of bringing over a few CDs out of my collection. This is ‘klezmer’ Nick, a sort of Jewish folk song tradition but given a modern flavour!”

“Y’know what worries me the most Gil? That this isn’t the worst music y’have is it?”

“You offend me Nick, I have diverse tastes and I enjoy life’s rich tapestries in all areas.” Gil gesticulated to encompass the world with a broad sweep of his arms as he spoke and Nick was trying hard not to grin.

He said sternly, “Well y’can keep it on, but turn it down, in the Lord’s name, please.”

Gil did as he was told and Nick returned to the kitchen grinning. He embraced diversity, eh? I wonder how far he’d go. It really didn’t matter to Nick because he would be happy to have Gil as his friend, just like this. ‘BFFs’.

Gil resumed his post by the door. “Did y’ride this morning Gil?”

“No, I thought better of it after breakfast; it can be somewhat stomach churning even for an old hand like me. I’ll go before I eat next time. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Okay, could probably manage that, don’t think I could manage the Stratosphere though, man. I don’t fancy being suspended over thin air.”

“Oh, it’s exhilarating Nick, you need to try it to appreciate it – I could hold your hand.” Gil was teasing; at least Nick thought he was. He changed the subject.

“What was with Sofia an’ Jim this mornin’?”

“Oh, evil plotting I’m afraid, on Sofia’s part, I believe. She ‘made’ Jim sit next to me and she claimed the other side just to aggravate Sara. I don’t understand it Nick, they’re acting like schoolgirls…..”

“Y’don’t know that they’re both crazy for y’man?” Nick was incredulous.

“I…I….don’t think…well…no Nick.” Gil was plainly shocked.

“Y’didn’t know? Didn’t Catherine or Jim or someone tell you - really?”

“No, you must be mistaken, oh, I know Sara is a bit of a hero worshipper, but she’ll get over it, but Sofia, are you saying she likes me…you know….like..?”

“Yep….Sara’s not hero worshipping you Gil…well she is…but she’s crazy for you and Sofia, well, she’s a real nice woman and I think she would jump at the chance to date you Gil.” Was Nick talking himself out of something here?

“It’s really strange you know, because this morning I thought I might ask Sofia out to dinner sometime.”

Nick’s breathing suddenly started to hurt his chest and he held onto the counter as he tried desperately to concentrate on the steaks grilling before him.

“Y’going to then Gil?” He tried for normal but it didn’t sound normal in his ears.

“What do you think I should do Nick?”

“I don’t know, y’have to make y’own decision on that, follow what y’want to do.” Is what Nick said, what he thought was ‘NO, NO, NO don’t ask her, please don’t ask her.’

“I don’t know what I want; I thought that if I’d really wanted to ask her, I’d have done it by now. It’s not like I’m ‘burning with desire’, he laughed at his words, “I’m actually quite content as I am and you know I have a ‘BFF’ now?”

Nick chanced a look at Gil and saw him smiling in his direction.

“That’s true man, y’have.” And he smiled back. Had Gil noticed his ‘mini’ breakdown?

“Hey, steaks are ready, let’s eat.” He couldn’t imagine how he was going to force the food down his throat without immediately vomiting. This evening had started out really well and a stupid remark from him had turned it on its head. He had to sit down with Gil now and eat and talk like he was as happy as he was just five or ten minutes ago.

They sat at the dining table and helped themselves to salad and corn. Nick’s prediction that he wouldn’t be able to eat proved to be wrong and he settled down quite a bit. He was planning what to do next, because his previous strategy, devised over the last day had come apart at the seams.

Gil was talking to him….”What, sorry, lost in thought there a moment, Gil?”

“That’s okay, I was mumbling around a mouthful of steak I’m afraid, but I was saying this is delicious, you’ve got a knack, you know, it’s just as I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, any time. It’s easier to cook for two than it is for one, y’know what it’s like you can’t be bothered and get take out, or junk, or both and it ain’t healthy.”

“You’re right.. I could afford to lose about fifteen – twenty pounds, maybe, but it’s no fun dieting on your own. I need someone to regulate my food and make me eat properly and healthily – like this Nick – you’re doing me good.”

“Why, thank y’kindly sir.”

“If I dated Sofia, do you think Sara would try to kill me or Sofia, or would it be you?”

For just a very few moments Nick started to laugh but then he got stuck with half a sound coming out of his mouth and looked as stunned as if he’d been hit by 10,000 volts. Gil was just eating his dinner looking over at Nick in a manner that suggested he’d just said, ‘Nice weather we’re having.’

Nick took a deep breath and tried to speak, “I. Wha… Did. Can…” he was totally unable to connect his brain to his mouth, but anyway his brain appeared to have stopped functioning,

“Your speech is difficult to decipher Nick, but what I guess you may be saying is something along the lines of, ’I can’t believe you said that’ or ‘What did you say’ or perhaps, ‘Can I repeat it’. Simply put Nick, that by looking at the evidence presented by you this evening, I’m led to believe that you may feel something stronger than friendship towards me. Am I right?”

Nick still couldn’t speak but his motor skills returned and he nodded.

“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events. I think we need to discuss this Nick, don’t you, and find out how this came about.” Gil just continued as if he was still discussing the weather, “Eat up, don’t let this excellent meal of yours go to waste.”

Nick looked down at his plate and back up to Gil who smiled at him.

“Come on, you’ve had worse shocks – I’m not going to run out on you, you should know me better than that by now.”

“Don’t think I could eat another bite.” A voice had returned but it didn’t sound much like his voice.

“I’m sorry Nick – the blunt, outspoken man; ‘open mouth put both feet in’ syndrome. I should’ve waited, you were in such a good mood I thought you’d take it in your stride, but I’m sorry for ruining your lovely meal.’ This time Gil did sound genuinely remorseful and that helped Nick recover a little.

“Just a shock Gil – I only found out myself a few days ago, it’s been a bit quick an’ all.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry Nick, I’d no idea. My comment was totally out of place.” Now Gil was upset.

Nick took a few deep breaths, “Look Gil it isn’t your fault, you’re the way you are and I’m just plain confused. I’ll try a bit more of my meal and regroup, yeah, that’s what I need to do, regroup.” He was almost talking to himself.

“That’s good Nick, good.” And Gil leaned over the table and gave Nick’s forearm a squeeze, “I’m good too, okay?”

Nick had started to breath normally and he took a few sips of his beer. Gil stopped him, “No, don’t, just at the moment it isn’t advisable to drink alcohol, I’ll get you some water.” He was up, out and back in less than a minute with a glass of water and Nick sipped that.

“I’m not going to eat any more.” Nick said addressing his plate.

“Okay, you go and get on the couch I’ll just put this stuff in the kitchen for you – NO, do as I say. “ Gil said this with a smile and Nick was thankful to be able to get up and move across the room and drop unceremoniously onto his couch.

Gil moved between the table and kitchen a few times clearing the remains of their dinner. Nick heard him put the coffee machine on and then he came back in the room, retrieved his beer and he, too, dropped onto the couch.

“I really made a mess of that, didn’t I, and spoiled your good mood completely. I saw the evidence and while I was eating it just dropped into place and instead of storing it up for later it popped out of my very loose mouth.” Gil began.

“What evidence?” Was all Nick could manage, but it was enough.

“It wasn’t the good mood, because I’ve seen that for a couple of days. It was when I spoke about Sofia and about asking her out to dinner. Your face, well, sort of contorted and your breathing pattern changed and you obviously thought you might fall because you grabbed the counter so hard your knuckles went white.”

“Mmmm.”

“You had, initially, brought up the subject but you were very surprised by my response when I said I’d been thinking about asking Sofia out to dinner. And, of course, you are positively itching to tell me something; I’d be even blinder than I am not to realise that it’s something big after what you said at the diner the other night. So perhaps when you gain some equilibrium you can tell me about it, that’s if you want to, Nick?”

“I was going to tonight y’know. I brought up the subject of Sara and Sofia, I know I did, but I had NO IDEA that y’actually wanted to date…..”

“Hey, let’s clear that bit up immediately, I didn’t say I wanted to date her, I just said I’d thought about it and it crossed my mind that I MIGHT ask her out to dinner, once. I think if I’d really wanted to I would have done so before now, and I wasn’t thinking anything other than ‘dinner’ Nick, just dinner.”

“Mmmmm. Okay.” Nick thought that was quite a statement from Gil. “Look shall I tell y’what’s been going on with me? It’s a bit….I don’t know, sordid, I suppose, but I can tell you ‘cause I trust you Gil, y’know that and whatever y’may think, this is not a come-on, man. I just want to be your friend and have you as my friend and I don’t want to lose that: but now y’need to know it all – y’may have to make a judgement yourself – about me.” He’d found his voice with a vengeance.

“You know that you may tell me anything, don’t you, without fear of any repercussion? I will treat anything and everything in confidence.”

“I know y’will man.”

Nick sat and thought for a few moments and was just about to start when Gil held up his hand.

“Coffee?”

“Good idea.” Nick watched Gil as he walked to the kitchen and he closed his eyes for a few moments to collect his thoughts. Nothing ever goes to plan in his life -‘ain’t that the truth.’

Gil returned with coffees for them and settled himself down on the couch. He looked relaxed and……Nick couldn’t think of a word to describe the look, benevolent, concerned……no ‘kind’. Gil was looking at him kindly.

”It started way back, Gil, when I was in high school………” Nick related what had happened and how Ed had elicited the information from him and explained how he could have ‘forgotten’ it. Listening intently and sipping at his coffee Gil just nodded and murmured as Nick explained.

Nick told Gil about the anti-depressants that had been doubled in their dosage – but was at pains to say that his mood was attributable not to the drugs but to him finally making sense of what had happened. He told him about the hooker, and that she was the first woman he’d ‘slept’ with since he was twenty. He also pointed out that the shower ’thing’ with Mitch was the only ‘gay’ experience he’d ever had, and yet he knew he was gay, because it felt right and explained so much - it was an enormous relief to him, not a burden.

Nick didn’t say anything about his erotic dreams. But he said that the first idea that he was on the brink of ‘something’ was right after the last time they’d been together at the condo – like they were tonight.

Gil interrupted - he’d been very quiet and absorbed all the information Nick had given him. “What was it about that night Nick? I remember it as a wonderfully relaxed and happy time for both of us and I do remember thinking that you were recovering so well.”

“Well.” He was stuck, should he tell him or not? Gil had said he could tell him anything and he had in the past but was this too much information? He thought about it staring ahead and then looked at Gil.

“I’m okay Nick, I promise not to freak out or anything. When did you ever see me freak?”

“There was that time with Ecklie, when you threw the coffee pot?”

“Ah. But that was Ecklie, he’s in a category on his own and I’m allowed.”

“’Okay then. It’s pretty freakin’ man, but I do want to tell you. Perhaps I’m perverse, man, we gotta a good thing goin’ and I don’t want to throw a monkey wrench into the works.” His attempt at some humour was just downright lame. He chuckled.

“Here goes. That night after y’left here I was on a high Gil; that was just simply one of the most enjoyable evenings I’ve ever spent, in my whole life, I think. And, I don’t want you to think that I was about to jump your bones man ‘cause it never crossed my mind - I swear.

“But, after you’d gone I tidied up an’ all and was just real happy when I got into bed.” Nick thought that if Gil did know what was coming he made no indication. “I fell straight to sleep but then, y’know, like the first time in forever man I had a, y’know, a dream, a wet dream……about you Gil.” Nick was hot and red he knew, but Gil was still sitting there regarding him with the ‘kindly’ look.

“…..and the next night and….well…..virtually every night ever since, err, really. That’s why I hot footed it to see Ed. I was freaking out alright, but then he got me to spill about Mitch and he upped the dose….that’s it really, but I couldn’t look at you at work and, well, thank God we were so busy, really.”

Gil sat still on the couch just a little way away from this man who was so trusting of him he’d been able to share such thoughts. Gil wasn’t freaked out about the revelation; Gil had seen and heard far worse over the years. He thought he’d better say something or Nick would think that he had crossed a line.

“Right. May I make some observations now Nick?” Nick nodded so he continued. “First of all, I know what you mean about that night the last time I was here; it was, without a doubt a night that I shall remember – as a real sign of our friendship. And that friendship is not going to be harmed by me, following your very candid confession to me just now.

“What struck me most was that while we were all so busy at the lab I was too tired to notice you, but when things slacked off, I missed you so terribly Nick. You didn’t answer my message and then blew me off for breakfast…I was very…sad, Nick. I thought you’d come through your trauma and wouldn’t need me anymore and that thought devastated me. When you called and invited me to the diner, I was ecstatic, but by the time I arrived I had convinced myself you were going to let me down gently and move on.

“I very nearly cried with relief when you didn’t. That a vibrant young man really wanted my friendship made me feel humble.”

Nick was listening intently and with a shocked expression on his face. This was Gil Grissom talking to him about ‘needing’ him.

“I can’t claim that I’ve had erotic or even romantic thoughts about you Nick, I haven’t. The fact that you have had them about me leaves me feeling flattered, not disgusted like I’d suspect a lot of men would be. I’ve never had a sexual encounter of any sort with another man, Nick. But, don’t read too much into that, because frankly, I haven’t had sexual encounters with many women either. I’ve relied mostly on my own hand, Nick, it never lets me down.”

“Tell me about it.” Nick interposed.

“Exactly. From what you’re telling me you’ve based your assumption of your sexuality on a very pleasant experience in a shower, what, fifteen years ago, and the failure of any sort of relationship with a woman. But, you’re convinced you’re gay?”

“Yep…. I can’t explain it really, Gil, but it’s right and it feels as if for the first time in my life I know ‘me’ – the real ‘me’. Look, Gil, I’m not looking here for any sort of sexual relationship with you but I’d hate, man, I wouldn’t cope I don’t think, with losing ya’ all as a friend, not after everything you’ve been through with me.”

“I’ve said Nick, it’s not going happen, please don’t worry about it – but I do have a...what shall I call it…an idea; a proposition….?”

Nick looked at Gil with an openness that took Gil’s breath away. He could see trust and anxiety in the features of the face he knew well and for a moment wondered if his idea could end up breaking, not mending, this man. He looked at him and pondered his predicament for a few moments longer – but he’d said he’d got an idea and he was going to follow it through.

“Your experience is very limited and mine is non-existent – I mean homosexual experiences. You’ve had these thoughts about me and I haven’t had them about you, but I don’t see that that should preclude anything happening in the future.”

Nick’s eyebrows had shot up and very nearly met his hairline and his eyes were huge and shocked.

Gil laughed and put his hand on Nick’s arm. “I am not suggesting now, Nicky.”

Nick let out a breath he’d sucked in and held for a few moments and then thought that Gil had called him ’Nicky’ again. He disliked anyone calling him Nicky – he thought it was a childish nickname, except, he absolutely loved it when Gil called it him. He had no idea why, it had just been that way ever since he’d joined the lab.

“No, Nick, I was thinking more along the lines of sort of dating – platonically. I don’t suppose it’d be much different than what we do now, just more ’scheduled’ than the haphazard way we are now. What do you think – we could see how it goes and take it from there?”

There was a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes as both men absorbed Gil’s ‘proposition’.

“Would this dating mean having to go to the movies together?” Nick remembered the first and last time they’d been to see a movie.

“Well, I must say you seem to have to taken to the idea if you’re prepared to discuss if and when we go to a movie theatre. And actually, I’d like that, there’s this great Polish film I want to see.”

“Oh man, you’d make me sit through that?”

“Now I’m upset that you would insult my choice of entertainment.” Gil deadpanned with bright and happy eyes.

“Well, this is the deal: for each film you take me to, I can take you to one – take it or leave it!”

“May I bring a book and a flashlight?”

“Can I hug you Gil…..platonically?”

“You may.”

The End of BFF tbc with Upping the Ante