Title: Bug Class
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 962
Pairings: Gil/Nick (Pre slash?)
Characters: Gil Grissom and Nick Stokes
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Grave Danger…if you’ve not seen it by now, words fail me!
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. I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N 1: It may be the beginning of a relationship…but maybe not!
A/N 2: I would like to thank those people who nominated me in three categories, and those people who voted for me in the recent ‘CSI Fanfic 2008’ awards. I am most grateful and overwhelmed at your kindness. Thank you very much.
A/N 3: I had a really fabulous holiday but have horrendous jet lag…far worse coming home than going…but then, I’m not on holiday now!


Gil stood by the door of his office, looking in. Nick stood motionless; seemingly mesmerised by the movements of the spider in her tank. He wasn’t close to the tank though - maybe four feet away from it.

Gil walked into the office and stood beside Nick, careful not to invade his personal space, nor startle him. They both stared for a few more moments before Gil spoke.

“She’s an orange kneed tarantula.”

“She. What’s her name?”

“Seven.”

Nick looked at Gil incredulously, “As in ‘Seven of Nine’”?

“Who?”

“Star Trek….a woman….very tight costume?”

“Oh. No. As in the seventh one I’ve had. I didn’t name my first…but when I had my second one I just started calling her ‘Number Two’….to keep track I suppose.”

“Makes sense….for you. I couldn’t see them being named after Star Trek characters really; Uhura, Troi……that sort of thing.”

“Mmmm. Well I can’t say I’ve never seen an episode, but I would be hard pressed to name a character…Mr Spock….he was a…?”

“Vulcan.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t go through life being frightened of bugs.”

“No.”

“I thought I might start out easy…’domesticated spider confined to tank’ sort of easy.”

“Good start.”

“She’s not a bug, I know, but she sorta fits the category.”

“Yes.”

“D‘you think I’ll get over it.”

“Yes.”

“You sound positive.”

“I am.”

“Why do you feel that when I feel so….”

“Because it’s not been long Nick, and you’re used to looking; to…examining….the evidence and I think you’ll be able to rationalise it and overcome….”

“How long?”

“I don’t think you should give it a time line. It’ll take as long as it takes.”

“But I can’t afford the luxury of time….I gotta a job to do.”

“Nicky, the job will wait for you, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“When I came in to put a file in your tray I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye and when I looked round and saw…her…I nearly freaked. I made myself stay and look at her. I couldn’t get any closer.”

“That’s an excellent start, Nick. ‘Nearly freaking’ beats ’freaking’ any day.”

“Seven, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“S’pose for a spider she’s…pretty?”

“I think so.”

“Are you frightened of anything Gris?”

“Yes.”

Nick looked at him expectantly and Gil realised that he would have to share; he wasn’t used to sharing, didn’t like sharing and would avoid it at all costs unless pursued by Catherine. But Nick needed this.
“I don’t like….”

“No. There are lots of things I don’t like but that’s not being scared.”

“No.”

“You’re not actually scared of anything are you Gris?”

“Yes. I am.”

“You are supposed to share at this juncture.” Nick was actually amused at catching Grissom like this; he wouldn’t push it though – he didn’t want him to feel awkward.

“It’s okay Gris…no problem.”

“No, it’s not okay Nick. To be unable to speak out, when you’re being so….”

“Stupid? I’m sorry…”

“No. No. Don’t do that. Don’t say that. Don’t you understand that what you’ve endured Nick would’ve killed lesser men? Twenty four hours. That’s what I’m most scared of Nick, that if it had been me I would’ve used the gun. You didn’t give up, and I know you thought it, but you didn’t because you have faith Nick. Faith in other people, faith in good, even when you’ve seen the evil men do. I’m scared Nick because I don’t measure up to you and yet I’ve judged you, and everyone else, and yet I’m the one lacking.”

The two men stood in silence as Gil finished his speech. He hadn’t raised his voice, if anything it was quieter than normal, but he realised that he’d hardly even voiced this fear to himself, he’d pushed it aside following the euphoria of Nick’s rescue.

“Do you think you may benefit from learning a bit about bugs…more than you know now? Study them, learn their habits. They’re perfect, Nick. They live their lives perfectly. If you understood that it may be easier to understand……the ants; the fire ants... They’re ‘programmed’ to act as they did. They didn’t have the will to do what Gordon did to you, but when presented with….you….they had to do what they did. If you hadn’t shot out the light and damaged the…they wouldn’t have invaded and bitten. But we wouldn’t have found you otherwise.”

“You.”

“Me?”

“You found me Gris. You saved me.”

“We did, Nick, the team did. But your own actions led us to you, alive, Nick, because you wouldn’t kill yourself, despite everything….despite everything.”

“If you’d been there you’d’ve been better Gris. Not emotional and irrational; you would’ve figured out about the light, given instructions about the ants…looked at the evidence.”

“No. No, Nicky, I wouldn’t. That’s what I’m afraid of – I wouldn’t have had any control. Lack of control. That what frightens me…everything…my work, my life, everything Nick, has to be controlled. My thirst for knowledge is to understand and control. That’s the bugs, Nick, they’re perfection, they don’t step out of line; they’re controlled. The more control I have the easier I breathe. Do you understand that…why?”

“I guess. I don’t go along with it though. It’s not how I see….it’s not how people see you.

“Smoke screen.”

“If that’s what you say….”

“It’s the truth.”

“Sooo…. Bug class?”

“’Bug class’, if you’d like? What say we go out into the desert or up to the canyon and just look around – wide open spaces - and find something interesting and I’ll tell you all about it…and you move at your own pace? What d’you say?”

“It’d be good, yeah, real good.”

“Friday? That okay for you?”

“Yeah, good.”

“You can tell me about this ‘Seven of Nine’….tight costume you say?”

“Oh yeah….real tight!”

The End