#nick x warrick

[fascinating-nightmares]

Warrick: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Nick: Aren't you forgetting something?

Warrick: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Nick's forehead before running out.*

Nick: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

[scripted-downfall]

I'm. I'm sorry, hold up. Nick gets kidnapped, buried alive, and almost dies. Warrick freaks out, complete with scrabbling to dig Nick up with his bare hands (twice) and holding his hand to calm him down just after. And then, before the very next episode, he's suddenly gone off and gotten married to his girlfriend without telling anyone.

Tell me you realized you cared about someone too much, almost lost them, got scared, and then started distancing yourself from them without telling me you cared about someone too much, almost lost them, got scared, and then started distancing yourself from them.

[typicalopposite]

B-b-but your honor… I love him

…and him…

Him too!!

AND ALL OF THEM

I even love these two

And I’ve never even seen the show.

I just… I love fandom ok.

[lucidlivi]

Unholy

Warning: mentions of violence, sexual innuendo, mentions of sex, and mentions of std

"well it looks like our priest here wasn't as godly as he appeared." Nick said looking at the body in front of us.

Nick and I were working a case on the strip. A priest was found in his office, his pants pulled down to his ankles and missing a significant part of his lower region. He was stabbed repeatedly and left to bleed out.

"that's a lot of rage, someone wanted this guy to suffer and I think I know why." I said.

I picked up the condom still in its wrapper showing it to Nick. I opened one of the drawers of his desk, the action making empty condom wrappers fall out. A smirk spread to Nick's lips.

"so you're telling me our priest was going to get it on before he was butchered?" Nick asked shaking his head in disbelief.

"a priest who was a sex addict." Nick said finding more hidden boxes of condoms.

"this priest gets more action then you do Nick." I joked.

You'd think with the way Nick looks he'd be a total man whore but that was the farthest thing from the truth. He was reserved and sweet. Which was only one of the reasons I was insanely attracted to him. Nick and I were partners, we got each other like no one else did. It was getting harder day by day not to let my feelings for him slip out. Nick was about to respond when Greg walked in to help us process the scene.

"wow that's a sight." Greg said grimacing at the bloody corpse.

"our priest here had a little problem." Nick said throwing a box of condoms at Greg, causing me to laugh, even though Greg caught them.

"I could use these more than you." Greg said tossing the box on the ground by his feet.

I cackled as Greg made the same joke I had only seconds earlier.

"you know i'm not as holy as i've led you all to believe." Nick said shrugging his shoulders.

I couldn't help the intense blush that spread to my cheeks as the intrusive thoughts entered my brain. I quickly coughed to try to cover up my uneasiness.

"sure whatever you say buddy." Greg laughed grabbing his camera to start photographing the scene.

"here's the difference between me and you Greggo, you'll screw anything within two feet of you, I reserve that for the special ones." Nick said, and for a second I thought he'd glanced my way.

"I can't help woman find me attractive and throw themselves at me." Greg shrugged.

"you attractive? please I could have way more woman if I wanted." Nick argued back. He wasn't wrong but of course I wouldn't tell him that.

I rolled my eyes, they fought like an old married couple.

"will you two shut up now and help me." I said looking at them.

Greg looked at Nick and smirked.

"alright settle it then." Greg said staring at me.

I looked at him confused. He was definitely backing me in a corner here and I didn't like it one bit.

"hypothetically of course, who would you want to sleep with, me or Nick?" Greg asked eyeing me.

"bold of you to assume, i'd sleep with either one of you." I said raising my eyebrows at him.

"that's why it's hypothetical, duh." Greg said.

"Greg leave the poor girl alone." Nick said glaring at Greg. I gave him a silent thanks.

we were all quiet as we finished processing the scene. I'd found a notebook containing the names of all the woman our unholy priest slept with in the last couple of months. I looked at the last log entry. It was from last night. I was finished collecting my evidence and was about to walk out. Suddenly I got a bold rush of confidence.

"Nick." I said glancing at the both of them.

I could see the wide grin Nick now donned.

"what?" Greg asked seeming to forget about his previous question.

"I'd sleep with Nick." I said closing my kit and leaving the scene.

I didn't know if they noticed but I intentionally didn't say hypothetically, because truth was if the opportunity arose I just might.

"hell yeah suck it Greggo!" I heard Nick scream in his thick texan accent.

It was later in the day and Nick and I were visiting the multiple ladies who had the honor to make it on the priest's list, 16 in total. It was all the same story, they came to him for advice and he'd talk his way into their pants. He made them feel special, like they were the only girl in the world and after he got what he was looking for, he'd drop them. No wonder someone wanted him dead. The last woman we'd interviewed was extra spiteful when she spoke about him.

"you think she could be our killer?" Nick asked as he hovered over me looking at the file on our suspect.

"would you blame her? he was totally sexualizing her!" I said quickly turning around in my chair.

I couldn't help the nerves that shot down my body as the heat from his radiated not far from mine. Our faces were just mere centimeters apart. I'd never been nervous about Nick being close to me before but now I had to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. Maybe it was because I'd never thought of him in such an unholy way before. Nick furrowed his brows as if he was deep in thought. He didn't seem to notice the proximity of our bodies, but it was all I could think about. Nick finally snapped out of whatever daze he was in and looked down at my red face. He cleared his throat looking down at my small but plump pink lips. He was about to say something when Greg's annoying voice made us jump.

"that's right ladies and gentlemen aids." Greg said throwing another file in front of me.

"our priest had HIV?" I questioned opening the autopsy file from Doc Robbins.

"yeah, and get this, those condoms we found, well he wasn't the one wearing them, 16 woman visited a local clinic over the last couple of months, each one testing positive for human immunodeficiency virus, and I think if you compare my list to the one you found in his office you'll find that they're the same list." Greg said.

I was looking over the report from the clinic and sure enough every single woman we'd talked to today had been on that list. Not one of them mentioned having HIV or Aids.

"take a look at this, our priest suffered from 16 total stab wounds, a coincidence, I don't think so." Nick said pointing out the COD.

"16 angry woman, 16 stab wounds, 16 killers." I said picking up my phone to call Brass.

Captain Brass and his team started bringing in our woman. He'd brought 15 in telling us he was unable to locate the last woman we'd spoken to, she'd somehow evaded them. They were out currently looking for her. None of the women were talking.

"okay clearly our last suspect is the mastermind behind all of this." I said slamming the door of the interrogation room after another failed attempt at a confession.

"we'll find her." Nick said squeezing my shoulder.

"I think I already did, her credit card was just used to check in to the La Playa, a little run down motel just off the strip" Hodges said handing us a map.

"let's take a trip then." Nick said throwing me my vest.

Nick and I arrived at La Playa quickly, the air was eerie. Nick marched in to the front office with me hot on his trail. The person behind the check in desk was an older man, clearly intoxicated.

"well hello there, looking for a couples room for a little off duty lovemaking." the man said winking at the two of us.

I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks as it wasn't the first time in the last few hours that I'd had that exact impure thought about my partner.

"not exactly, a Allison Wyatt just checked in here, we need to know what room you rented to her." Nick spoke with authority.

I couldn't help but notice the creepy lustful stare the man was giving me. Nick must've noticed it too, he grabbed my wrist pulling me slightly behind him, my body now out of view of the drunken man.

"Allison Wyatt where is she?" Nick asked again slamming his fist on the desk.

His one hand still held me behind his back, and normally I would've protested the protection as I prided myself on being an independent woman but somehow when Nick did it, it felt right.

"room 116." He said giving us a map of the motel layout. It was a small square block of rooms with a pool directly in the center.

Ironic, 116. Nick quickly pushed me closer to the door, making me go first, and staying directly behind me so the creep couldn't get the good look he was anticipating. I blushed as Nick's hand brushed the small of my back. We reached room 216, and could hear rustling inside. Nick placed his hand on his firearm.

"stay behind me." He ordered looking down at my small stature.

I swallowed the lump in my throat nodding my head slowly. It was completely inappropriate but I couldn't help the heat that rushed through my body at his demanding tone.

"Allison Wyatt this is the LVPD we're coming in." Nick said kicking the door in effortlessly.

As soon as we were inside we saw her sitting in the chair in the corner of the room.

"Nick." I gasped quietly directing him to look down.

there were at least four gas cans discarded in the bathroom and we were standing right in the gas soaked carpet.

"Allison you don't want to do this." Nick said lowering his gun as we noticed the matches in her hand. If she lit one, this place would go up in flames in seconds.

"why don't I, there's nothing left for me." She said opening and closing the box almost as if she were taunting us.

"because he got what he deserved." I said disobeying Nick and going to stand in front of him.

Nick went to move his arm to pull me back but Allison gave him a warning look not too.

"you bet your ass he got what he deserved, that bastard ruined me, he ruined all of us. do you really think a man is going to want to touch me now? I went to him because I'd finally got the courage to leave my abusive ex husband, ha out of the arms of one abuser into the arms of another. He used me. After he finished he went to the bathroom to clean up, I rifled through his drawers and found that I was just another notch in his bedpost. I also found a note from his doctor. It had a positive test result for HIV, that bastard didn't even use a condom. I decided that I would be the last woman he'd ever hurt. I let his secret slip to the 15 others, and boy were they angry. I seduced him, and then I cut it off so he couldn't use it to hurt anyone anymore." She said as a few tears fell from her eyes.

"that's when you took turns stabbing him." Nick said trying to take a step forward but once again receiving a warning look.

"he ended us, so we ended him." She said tossing a knife on the ground at my feet. It was covered in blood.

"I understand why you did it. He was a sick man. He abused his power and hurt a lot of people. But he can't hurt anymore and we can help you so you don't have to hurt anymore either." I said taking a step towards her.

She scoffed giving me a look.

"there's no help for me, I'm already burning."

In a quick second she struck a match. Before I could process what was going on, I was being tackled out of the room. Flames engulfed her body, the heat causing blisters on my skin. Nick rolled off of me, his shirt catching flames. Nick quickly discarded his shirt, jumping in the pool. I did the same, the cool water calming my burning skin. I was having a hard time treading water because my skin was sore.

"come here." Nick said grabbing my hand and dragging me to his body.

He held me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I blushed as I ran my hand down his bare torso.

"thanks for saving me." I said smiling at him.

"hypothetically if I kissed you right now what would you do?" Nick asked brining his forehead to rest against mine.

I bit my lip darting my eyes from his down to his lips. I quickly closed the space between us, latching my lips on to his. I was now feeling a heat throughout my body for a very different reason. Nick moved a hand, gripping my head to bring me closer if that was even possible. Our lips moved in sync, a passion and hunger I'd never felt before. I wanted more of him, all of him. Nick pulled away slowly, his lips swollen, probably matching mine. He looked at me with lustful eyes.

"I think we're going to need that room now." I purred in his ear.

let's just say the crime wasn't the only unholy thing that happened that night.

[literaryfandomangel]

CSI Season 2 Episode 19 --Stalker

CSI Season 2 Episode 19

--Stalker

When we went into work, Nick and I stopped by Gil’s office. We had a discussion last night at his place about doing the right thing – telling the department that we were in a relationship. In my previous place of employment, they would have reprimanded me for seducing a coworker. Then I would have been demoted. Nick reassured me that this wasn’t the case here – that numerous coworker’s had relationships within the department.

Nick had rubbed my back as I tried to calm my breathing. I was worked up just by asking him what if they split us up. Moved us to a different shift, because then we wouldn’t be able to see each other. Nick shook his head, his crooked smile enveloping his face.

“That won’t happen, darlin’,” Nick reassured me, his Texas drawl soothing my frayed nerves at the aspect of telling Grissom that I was involved with one of his best CSI’s. I knew that Nick valued the opinion of Grissom as well, so that was also nerve-wracking.

“But how do you know?” I stressed, looking at him as I bit my lip. Nick laughed, not unkindly, but used his thumb to release my lip from the abuse of my teeth.

“Do you know how many of the lab has been together?” When I shook my head, Nick elaborated on the number of relationships he knew of, as well as how they were treated once it came out.

When we knocked on Gil’s door, he was bent over looking at something through a magnifying glass. He looked intrigued to see us at his door, both requesting an audience at the same time. Gil motioned to the chairs at his desk, wordlessly, and waited to see what we were going to say.

“We’ve been dating,” I blurted out, unable to keep it a secret any longer. Nick gave an awkward chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Is that all?” Grissom asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought someone was confessing to a crime. Needing help with hiding a dead body or something.”

“I didn’t want to be in any type of department violation,” I told Gil who nodded, as Nick was chuckling.

“See, I told you!” Nick pointed out.

“I see no issue with two of my CSI’s dating,” Gil remarked, already losing interest in this conversation and looking down at the bug he was studying. “I will make a note of it for your documents with the Crime Lab.”

“That’s it?” I asked, a little shocked at the handling of a relationship. Nick had validated this point and to see it occurring was honestly a little shocking.

“Yup,” Gil nodded, opening our files and putting something in the documents. “The only issue would be if you two were supervisor and subordinate. Then you wouldn’t be able to do the other’s evaluations.”

“Wow,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Who knew?”

“I tried to tell you!” Nick smiled at me, as he shook his head, good-naturedly. “You’ve been panicking since our fourth date.”

“Well,” I tried to explain, but finally gave up. Gil gave us both a rare smile.

“Get ready, we have a 419 – it’s going to require all of us to handle the evidence,” Gil said. We both nodded and went to the locker room to get ready.

Once we were finished putting our holsters on, getting the guns loaded, and grabbing our credentials, we both exited the locker room and went to the breakroom where the others were waiting for the assignment of the night. I looked at our coworkers before taking a deep breath.

“Before Ecklie or someone says something – Nick and I are dating,” I told them. They all grinned, Warrick slapping Nick on the back, congratulating him. I rolled my eyes as Gil came into the room.

“We’ve got a 419,” Grissom said. We all got out of our seats and grabbed our gear, along with jackets. Nick had to wear a leather jacket as his clothing wasn’t at the drycleaners the other day. I had laughed at them handing someone else his clothing and told him that was the reason I do my own laundry. I doubled with Nick while Catherine and Gil were in the lead, getting to the scene first. Warrick and Sara were still back at the lab.

“It’s going to be a long night,” I told my boyfriend who nodded his head as we drove to the crime scene. He had grabbed my hand with his, entwined on the console as we listened to music on the way to scene. Once we were on the scene, Catherine and Gil went up to get the preliminary photos. Nick wanted to talk with the detectives on scene.

I grabbed my kit from the trunk and went up to the apartment building. I walked in as Grissom was coming out of the bathroom. I was looking around the apartment and my eyebrows were furrowed.

“So, has anyone seen this dog?” Gil asked, looking around the apartment and listening for any sound of the dog.

“Dog bed, dog bowl, dog food ... no dog,” Catherine remarked as they noticed the dog paraphernalia all over the house.

“Someone killed the dog?” I gasped, staring at the senior members of the team with horror. They both shrugged, not confirming or denying it. “People I get, but a dog?”

“Neighbor lady called 911 because she heard the dog yelping,” Gil stated. I sucked in a breath.

“Are we sure it’s not hiding somewhere? Or that the cops didn’t let the poor animal out when they kicked in the door?” I asked, looking around the apartment. “Here, boy!” I whistled, trying to find the dog.

“Triple locks on all the doors. Every shade drawn. State-of-the-art alarm system,” Catherine looked at the alarm panel on her wall. “As far as we know her place was perfectly hermetically sealed until the cops batter-rammed their way in.”

“Prisoner in her own home?” Gil asked, standing there looking at the aforementioned safety features.

“Maybe she was agoraphobic?” I suggested, standing in her living room.

“So, how did he get in?” Catherine raised an eyebrow as she looked at the locks.

“A better question -- how'd he get out?” Gil questioned.

“Maybe he’s with the dog?” I sneered, looking under the furniture, trying to see if the dog was hiding underneath the couch. The dog bed was small – indicating that this wasn’t a golden retriever. “The dog bed looks sort of small. This dog couldn’t be more than 25-30 pounds. And there is no fur all over the home. I think it’s a hypoallergenic breed. Or this woman keeps vacuuming a hundred times a day.”

Gil walked into the living room behind me. He was still searching for a way that the assailant could have gotten in or out of the home. Gil pushed the gauzy curtains out of the way to reveal that the windows were covered in silver.

“Aluminum foil,” Gil said, shining a light on the silver material covering the windows.

“Keeps the sunlight out,” Catherine murmured also looking at the foil lined windows.

“God knows one needs to in Vegas,” I groused, still checking under the furniture, flashing my light around. “The dog couldn’t have just disappeared!”

“Keeps the eyeballs out, too,” Grissom stated as Catherine announced she was going to process the bedroom. She left the room while I was still poking under the furniture and trying to entice a dog. The door opened and Nick came in. He raised an eyebrow at my wandering around the living room, randomly whistling.

“Did you finally lose your marbles?” Nick drawled. I huffed at my boyfriend.

“I wish!” I called out. “The victims dog totally vanished. No one can seem to account for the dog that prompted the 911 call!”

“You’ll find him, darlin’,” Nick soothed, knowing my soft spot for animals, walking down the hallway. He stopped after a moment, looking at the scene in the bathroom. Gil watched him for a few moments, before turning to point out a random spot to me. After a few moments, Gil left me on my own in the living room.

“Sorry, Nick,” I heard Gil say in the bathroom. “You've been staring at this girl for ten minutes. Do you know her?”

“No,” his voice was faint.

“Why don't you go do the bedroom? I'll get the coroner in here and finish up in the bathroom,” Gil took pity on Nick.

“Sure,” I heard footsteps go down the hall to the bedroom. I left the living room and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. Very few hiding places, but I still checked.

Catherine and Gil came up behind me in the kitchen. There was nothing. This was absurd. A canine doesn’t just disappear into thin air. It had to be here somewhere.

“Find anything?” Catherine asked, unsure why I was pouring all my energy into the missing dog. I turned to look at her, a murderous look on my face.

“Nothing at all,” I sighed. “Absolutely nothing. Why not leave the dog?”

“Why don’t you go back to the lab with Nick when he’s done processing the bedroom,” Catherine suggested. I blinked but nodded.

“Someone will find the dog, right?” I implored, pleading with my bosses. They both nodded, even though they had already guessed that the dog was probably deceased along with the victim. I went back to poking around, but eventually gave up as Nick was finished processing the bedroom.

“You alright?” I asked him as we put the evidence and kits into the back of the Yukon. Nick had been really quiet after he walked into that crime scene.

“Yeah,” Nick said, though his voice didn’t sound sincere.

“If you need to talk, I’m all ears,” I winked at him, pulling my red hair from the tight bun. I massaged my scalp as I got into the passenger seat, a headache forming in my temples.

“You alright?” Nick asked, a little concerned at the pained look on my face. I nodded, reaching into my pouch to pull out some Excedrin.

“Headache,” I muttered.

“Something about that scene,” Nick muttered, and I left him to muse about the scene. For some reason, the body rattled him. He didn’t know the victim, but there was something familiar about it.

By the time that we made it back to the crime lab, my headache had subsided to a lesser roar. It made it so that I could think. Nick grabbed the evidence from the back of the Yukon and then we entered the building. He stopped by the A/V lab to pick up a file and then we walked to find our coworkers – Warrick and Sara so they could help us in our quest to figuring out what had happened to the poor lady.

On our way to the breakroom, where Archie had advised the missing CSI’s were located, Nick noticed the latest issue of the newsletter posted on the bulletin board. We had an internal newsletter called “Crime Stopper”. This month, Nick was featured on the front cover, complete with inaccurate facts. I stifled a laugh as Nick ripped it off the clipboard, irritated at the issue.

“Don’t,” he warned, crumpling up the paper in his hand. I shook my head, holding up my hands in innocence. I had totally read through that paper – which even included Nick’s Alma Mater and the name of the fraternity he belonged. It was cute, but the others were using it as a way to tease their friend.

As we approached the breakroom, Nick and I could hear the laughter and giggling coming from the two CSI’s in the breakroom. They were sitting at the table, reading over the newsletter, laughing. It was totally absurd. Nick smiled, shaking his head at their antics.

“Who wrote this?” Warrick asked. Sara couldn’t contain her laughter.

“You're kidding me, right?” Nick asked, throwing the balled-up newsletter from the bulletin board into the trashcan.

“Nick Stokes, Crime Stopper,” Warrick read from the paper, deepening his voice. I snickered and Nick laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You went Hollywood on me, man.”

“And I quote, "in his off time, he enjoys creating and inventing toys." That's fascinating,” Sara said. “What kind of toys do you make, Nick?”

“I don’t know who got that information, but I can confirm that Nick doesn’t invent or create any type of toys,” I interjected.

“I thought I got my hands on all those departmental newsletters,” Nick reached down and picked up the newsletter. “Where'd you get those?”

“Greg,” Sara and Warrick said in unison.

“Yeah, that figures,” Nick’s jaw twitched in his annoyance. “All right, listen, Grissom wants us to divide and conquer. Blond hair for you, Warrick.”

“I do love a blond,” Warrick stated, holding up the bag of evidence containing the blonde hair inside.

“Sara, you're on phone records,” Nick put a folder full of phone records on the table in front of Sara who pulled a face.

“Yay,” Sara said, her tone dry as she looked down at the records she would have to comb through. Nick turned and left the room, crinkling the newsletter on his way out.

“Hey, I wasn't done reading that!” Warrick protested.

“Yes, you are!” Nick tossed the balled-up newsletter into the trash can as he left the room. I followed after him, waiting a moment, since he hadn’t given me an assignment.

“What about me?” I asked, trotting after him, questioning on how I could be of assistance to this case.

“You, my darlin’,” Nick winked at me, knowing how much his Texas drawl and pet names made me swoon, “are on a mission to see cause of death. Can you check with Doc Robbins to see if he has a COD?”

“Sure,” I smirked, walking around him. “I’ll find you when I get the results!” He nodded, continuing on his way after I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

I hated the coroner’s office. Doc Robbins and David were really nice, but it was extremely cold down there. I grabbed my fleece jacket and went into the autopsy room. Grissom and Catherine were with Robbins.

“Nick sent me down to see if we had a COD?” I asked, shivering inside the fleece jacket. Robbins usually took pity on me, sparing me a lecture, once he had caught my lips turning blue from hypothermia before.

“COD is asphyxiation,” Robbins said. “Petechial hemorrhaging, cyanosis. Oh, and she’s a natural blonde.”

“So someone died her hair?” I asked, reaching up to my own head of red hair. Robbins nodded, pointing at my natural-colored red hair.

“She wasn’t sexually assaulted either,” Catherine stated. I sighed.

“So torture, just to torture someone. Did you guys find the dog?” I asked and both Grissom and Catherine shook their heads.

“Dog?” Robbins asked, but I wasn’t up for chitchatting about the dog.

“UGH!” I groaned, leaving the morgue. I went upstairs, still shivering in my fleece jacket to find Nick fumigating the plastic bag.

“Find out anything?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at my obvious state of frustration.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “No one has found the dog yet!”

“Sunshine, I meant - ” Nick was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the lab door. We both looked up to see Greg.

“Heard you were looking for me?” Greg didn’t look like he wanted to be here. It looked like he wanted to be elsewhere but wanted to get it over with. I figured that Warrick told him that Nick was ticked.

“Greg. Come here. I want to talk to you for a sec,” Nick stated, looking down at the plastic bag. He put his clipboard and the pen down at the side, as he waved Greg into the room. Greg hesitated at the door.

“Come on,” Nick cajoled, waving him over. Greg finally relented, walking over to Nick’s side where he was standing looking down at a glass tank.

“What's up?” Greg asked. Nick reached over with his left hand, slapping him on the back, then gripping at the base of his neck.

“Stop invading my privacy, man, I don't like it,” Nick stated, not mad, but trying to get his point across. “I'm just trying to do my job around here. I don't need the extra attention.”

“Okay. But, I mean, you are the one who's doing the "Forensic Spotlight" in the,” Greg choked up as Nick tightened his grip. I hid my amusement as Greg winced in pain at his comment. “Department newsletter.”

“I didn't do anything, man,” Nick insisted, not letting up on his grip. “Someone from the community wrote a letter of commendation. Public affairs ran it. Cool?”

“Cool,” Greg grimaced, nodding his head. Nick finally let go of Greg’s shoulder, patting him on the back in understanding. Greg raised his eyebrows as Nick walked around the other side of the tank with his clipboard.

“So, uh,” Greg sighed, moving his shoulder subtly in a bit of pain from the neck pinching, “what are you fuming?”

“Plastic bag from the crime scene. I'm trying to get lucky -- see if I can get some prints off it,” Nick told the analyst. He opened the top of the tank and fanned the fumes. Greg was staring at the front of the plastic bag.

“Did she die of suffocation?” Greg asked. I gasped.

“How did you know?” I asked. Nick stared up at Greg, really amazed that was the only answer he was giving. Greg still stared at the plastic bag in the tank. After a moment, Greg looked up at Nick, since he didn’t get a response. Nick finally determined that Greg saw something. He walked around to the side of the tank where Greg was looking. I got off my chair and joined the two men, just to see the outline of Jane Galloway’s face on the plastic bag.

After several deadend leads that the CSI and Brass pursued throughout the day, Grissom finally called it quits with the rest of us. We departed for our homes. Nick pressed a kiss to my lips as he made sure that I was secure in my vehicle. I promised to call him once I got some sleep and then I left the Crime Lab.

I walked in my apartment, dropping the keys in the bowl by the door. I dropped my kit onto the closet floor, before walking into my living room. There were several messages on my answering machine.

“Hey Aria, just wondering how ya were doing? Give me a call sometime – Bobby,” I saved that message, having missed my surrogate uncle. He lived in South Dakota and owned a junkyard. As a kid I used to love tinkering in his yard, whenever my mom would take me to visit. Then when she married my stepfather, he forbid us from seeing Bobby.

The next message was a telemarketer. I deleted that message, before going into the kitchen. I searched high and low for something to eat – finding a few frozen meals. I preheated the oven. As I waited, I turned on the television. I watched a documentary about Egypt until my oven beeped. Then I put my food into the oven, and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once I had finished the shower, I slipped on a pair of silk pajamas and wandered to check on my food. I figured it had to be done, pulling the meal from the oven. I ate most of it, discarding the rest into the trash can. I sent a quick message to Nick, wishing him a good night, before I threw myself onto my bed, and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up at a reasonably late time. Once I had managed to drag myself from the comfort of my bed, I went to the bathroom – got a quick shower, before applying my makeup. Once I was finished, I went back into my room and dressed for another day of work. I always loved the height that wearing heels provided, but it wasn’t feasible when we spent sometimes upwards of 24 hours on our feet.

I was wearing a pair of light green dress pants, a darker green long-sleeved top, and I pulled on my brown combat boots. I also decided to wear my brown leather jacket to pull the outfit together. (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/647322146460814169/) I grabbed my phone, seeing that Nick had messaged me, advising he was on his way to pick me up.

I sprayed myself with my perfume, before turning off the lights. I didn’t bother with breakfast, as we had a routine. There was a little bakery on the way to the lab, where we picked up breakfast and our coffee.

“Hey!” I pulled open the door before he could knock. Nick whistled as he saw me in my work attire, my cheeks coloring at his teasing. “Nick!”

“Sorry, baby,” Nick leaned down for a kiss, before I pulled the door shut, locking the deadbolt. “I’ve never seen you in a leather jacket.”

“I’m full of surprises,” I threw back at him and he chuckled, opening up the door of the Yukon. I slid into the passenger seat. Once Nick was on the way to our bakery, I noticed something seemed off. “You okay?”

“What?” Nick seemed startled that I spoke for a second. “Yeah, just something odd.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, careful not to pry too much. He shrugged as we arrived at the bakery.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Nick denied, opening up my door and then we went inside. I accepted his inability to talk about it for the moment.

“If you want to talk, you know where to find me,” I told Nick who nodded. Once we each had our food and drinks, it was time to return to the crime lab. I was in and out of the locker room quickly, while Nick hung around to talk to Warrick. I figured, he was unloading the situation with his best friend. I was happy Nick had someone to confide in, if he didn’t want to talk to me.

I found Catherine and Sara in the breakroom. They were looking over the files and the information that Sara managed to find about Jane Galloway.

“What about Jane’s work history?” Catherine asked, filling up a cup of coffee. She sat down and I joined the two as they discussed the information.

“Secretary at a brokerage firm. About three weeks from the day of her death she took a leave of absence,” Sara advised – my eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that the only one?”

“Yes,” Sara confirmed.

“Medical records?” Catherine asked and Sara looked down at the paperwork in front of her.

“She saw Dr. Slater. Had a prescription for valium and librium.”

“That’s some heavy prescriptions,” I stated. “Anxiety?”

(SARA shows the report to CATHERINE who takes it and looks at it.)

“Severe anxiety due to personal reasons,” Sara handed the report to Catherine who took it to look over the information as well. “One day back from leave, Jane quits her job. No notice. Hotel receipts show she checked into the Monaco for two nights.”

“The hotel?” I questioned, taking the receipts from Sara. Then I handed them to Catherine.

“A week before that she goes on a frightened woman shopping spree,” Sara told us, showing us the receipts to multiple hardware stores. Something was off about this whole situation.

“Hardware shop receipts for locks. Locksmiths. Alarm installations. Phone screeners. The voice on her answering machine—electronic,” Sara read off the information that she could gather about Jane’s whereabouts in the weeks leading up to her death. “She changed her telephone number. She cancels all but one of her credit cards.”

“No paper trail?” I questioned. “No personal way to distinguish herself either.”

“It's as if she's trying to make herself disappear,” Catherine stated, shaking her head as we looked over the evidence.

“Make no mistake. Jane Galloway was being stalked,” Sara stated, voice confident in this answer. All of us could agree – this was textbook stalking behavior. “Emotional terrorism at its finest.”

“And her boyfriend had an alibi?” Catherine asked, disbelieving. It was rare that stalking came from an outside source – like kidnapping.

“Here's the, uh, worst part. Uh, I ran a phone check on all her incoming calls. Guess where they were coming from,” I exchanged looks with Catherine before we took the phone records that Sara was handing over.

DATE / TIME / PLACE & NUMBER CALLED 4/16 / 2:44 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0146 4/16 / 2:56 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0198 4/16 / 5:15 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0287 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:18 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:19 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:20 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:21 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/16 / 5:22 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0188 4/17 / 10:48 am / Summerlin, NV 555-0173 4/17 / 04:16 am / Summerlin, NV 555-0189 4/17 / 3:43 pm / Las Vegas, NV 555-0132 4/17 / 12:04 pm / Henderson, NV 555-0173

“Wait – isn’t that her own phone number?” I asked.

“Inside her house.” The realization dawned on Catherine who knew that she had to get this information to Grissom and Brass right away. We overlooked something at the crime scene.

“Good work – Sara keep digging. Aria, you help her.” Catherine gathered the phone records and left the room with her coffee. Sara and I got to work, combing through more information about Jane Galloway. I was in charge of making sure that the prescriptions wouldn’t cause some type of psychosis or hallucinations. Though with the evidence that we had gathered – I was confident that wasn’t the case.

We were working on the situation, when suddenly Sara got a phone call from Catherine. Catherine advised us to get a list of utility companies that Jane had and send all the addresses. We would all be out gathering information.

Catherine ended up with the carpet installation. Warrick and Nick were in charge of the Luna Cable company. Sara was going to talk with the appliance delivery. Grissom was talking to the gas company, and I was to talk with the alarm company.

Unfortunately, the alarm installer didn’t know anything. He couldn’t even remember Jane’s name, just that he remembered putting in the state of the art alarm system for her. He said she was strange, but most single women in Nevada were worried about their safety, so he chalked up her nervousness to that.

I had just thanked him for his assistance and was walking away when I heard my phone ring. I grabbed it out of my pocket, expecting it to be asking if I had found anything. Only for Warrick to tell me that Nick was being transported to Desert Palms Hospital. I dropped the file onto the passenger seat and flipped on the sirens, before peeling out of the parking spot.

My heart was pounding as I raced to the Desert Palms Hospital after Warrick had called to tell me that Nick had been injured. I couldn’t focus on anything other than the loud thumping in my chest as well as my hands shaking on the wheel. I don’t think that I was alright to actually drive to the hospital, but I needed to be there.

Once I had parked the SUV, haphazardly, and not entirely in a space, I rushed into the Emergency Room doors. One of the nurses took pity on me, asking me why I was there.

“My boyfriend – Nick Stokes – was just brought in? He’s part of the police,” I explained, my heart thumping.

“I think your friends are over there,” she pointed out Warrick and Brass who were pacing a length of hallway. I thanked her, ears whooshing with my heartbeat as I tripped over my feet in my haste to get to them.

“Whoa,” Warrick steadied me before I could barrel right into him. “He’s alright,” Warrick soothed.

“Are you sure?” I asked, heart still pounding loudly behind my breastbone. It almost hurt, it was beating so fast and felt like it was hitting against the bone.

“He woke up before the paramedics got there,” Warrick gave me a light smile. Just then the rest of the team rushed into the hospital, reaching our side.

“What happened?” Grissom demanded.

“He was pushed out of a window,” Warrick explained. “I didn’t see anyone leave or enter the apartment.”

“Are you sure he’s alright?” I questioned. Catherine turned her attention to me.

“Honey, you need to sit down,” she urged, forcing me into a seat. “You are as pale as a ghost. Put your head between your knees.”

Catherine forced my head down between my knees, as I attempted to steady my breathing. It took me a while to calm down, the rest of the team offering support and comfort without discussing anything else. Brass had to leave as they were searching for this Nigel that threw Nick out of a window.

Finally, the doctor exited the room that they had Nick sleeping. Sara and Catherine both stood as she came out to give us an update. I didn’t trust my legs to support my weight, depending on the information that we would receive.

“Concussion, two cracked ribs, sprained wrist, five stitches to the forehead,” she explained his injuries to us. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“But he's going to be all right?” Warrick asked the question that was stuck in the back of my throat. When the doctor nodded, I cried.

“He needs rest,” she stated, looking back at the unconscious Texan lying in a hospital bed. “But I don't see why he can't go home relatively soon.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Grissom thanked the doctor who left since she didn’t have anything further to state. Warrick was upset, while Sara sat next to me, rubbing my back.

“Damn it,” Warrick hissed, sounding upset and frustrated. “Grissom, this guy was right there. I could have had him.”

“You helped out Nick. That was the right thing to do,” Grissom reassured Warrick who didn’t look convinced.

“Doesn't feel like the right thing,” Warrick grumbled.

“If you hadn’t helped out Nick, I would have shot you Warrick,” I warned the man, who looked chagrined to have even stated that. I wiped the tears from my eyes. It had been too long since I had to sit beside someone that I loved, that I cared for, and had so much uncertainty about their injuries. The last person was my brother.

“You know, Nick was alone,” Catherine mentioned, making the blood in my veins run cold. “The Stalker could have killed him and didn't.”

“Yeah, I wonder why. Let's go back over there,” Grissom stated. Catherine stood up, walking down the hallway. Warrick started to follow the two CSI’s.

“I'm going with you.” Grissom shook his head, putting a restraining hand on Warrick’s shoulder as he turned to leave.

“No, no. You need to calm down a little,” Grissom ordered. “Talk to Nick when he wakes up.”

Sara and I remained in the hallway beside Warrick who didn’t look pleased at the orders from Grissom. I was relieved that they didn’t want me to go with them – but I think Catherine knew it would take me kicking and screaming. Just then, my phone started to ring.

“I’ve got to take this,” I stated, looking down at the unfamiliar number on my screen. I sighed, walking down the hallway away from prying eyes and ears.

“Hello?” I answered the phone to be met with the familiar rough voice of my brother.

“Aria,” he sounded relieved to have my attention.

“Why are you calling me?” I asked him. He sighed, letting out a burst of air.

“Dad’s missing,” my brother stated. I rolled my eyes. Apparently, that was the reason that my brother wanted to call me, have a reunion. All over our father.

“Uh huh,” I wandered back down the hallway when Sara appeared at the end of the deserted and secluded space, waving me on. “Dad’s missing?”

“Yes!” My brother insisted as I entered the hospital room where Nick was awake – groggy and confused but awake.

“It’s Dad,” I rolled my eyes. “You know what he’s like. He’s found himself some Jim, Jack, and Jose along with some blondes. Dad will stumble home like he’s always done at some point. No need to send out any sirens.”

“Aria, I know you and Dad didn’t get along - ”

“Didn’t get along?” I echoed, a bitter laughter forcing its way out of my lungs. “You mean the same man that told me if I wanted to go to college, I better not grace his doorstep any longer? That same father?”

“Alright, so he said some things,” my brother attempted once more.

“No, he’s said a lot of things. Namely how I was dead to him for choosing a different career. I’m sorry, but I can’t argue about this right now. My boyfriend was injured, and I need to take care of him. I’m not helping you track down Dad, when he’s not even missing,” I said firmly into the phone, taking my coworkers off guard. They weren’t used to this side of me. I was usually the nice one – bending over backwards to help out anyone with their situation.

“Aria,” my brother pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “But find someone else, Dean.” I hung up on my brother, turning to the other members of my team and my boyfriend. “Sorry about that. How are you feeling, Nicky?”

“Sore,” Nick groaned. “What’s wrong with your dad?”

“Nothing,” I waved him off. “He’s off on a bender.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go?” Nick groaned, but I shook my head, a smile on my lips.

“How could I leave you all alone?” I countered, not wanting to go into my family dynamic. The reason why I was left with my stepfather for years, barely seeing my father after my mother found out the truth of the matter.

“Thanks,” Nick smiled, as the guys started to talk between each other for a while. Sara gave me a concerned look, but I shook it off, content to sit in the uncomfortable hospital chair and watch Nick grow more aware of his surroundings.

The doctor came in while Nick was awake – she explained all of his injuries. I think Nick was a little overwhelmed by the information coming his way. He just nodded his head in response, which is when I knew that he wasn’t comprehending most of what the doctor had just thrown Nick’s way.

“When can I go home?” Nick asked.

“I can release you now that you are awake,” the doctor promised. “Will someone be staying with him?”

“I will,” I raised my hand. “Nick’s my boyfriend. Warrick and Sara will have to return to the lab.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll explain what needs to happen. Follow me?”

I followed the doctor into the hallway where she explained his injuries in full, along with the instructions to follow once he was home. I accepted all the paperwork for his injuries along with the responsibility of taking care of Nick. Once she was done, she left to get the discharge papers. I went back into the room, smiling at the scene of the CSI’s talking and laughing together. Finally, the doctor came back with a wheelchair.

“Now, these painkillers are the real deal, okay?” The doctor stated, handing over a prescription of opioid painkillers. “Don't overdo it. Plenty of rest. No work for at least a week.”

I nodded, understanding the situation. I took the medication, tucking it under my armpit. I would be monitoring Nick – ensuring that he ate with the meds, and that he only took them when absolutely necessary. We didn’t need Nick spending time in rehab over an opioid prescription. Nick was sitting in the wheelchair. He had wanted to walk out, but with his ribs, he could barely walk around to get dressed.

“Will do, thank you, doctor,” Sara stated, while I was still a little emotional. The Doctor finally turned and left. I grabbed the wheelchair handles as we started down the hallway towards the parking lot.

“The gloves, you find them?” Nick asked, disregarding what the doctor had just said about his work restrictions. I shot a glare at Warrick who actually humored him.

“Catherine thinks he might have got away with them,” Warrick avoided looking at me and my murderous glare. “But, uh, Grissom did find some wacky video collection.”

“Of what?” Nick demanded, interest the case well known. I sighed, but thankfully, Sara stepped in, knowing that I was going to snap at him.

“Now, did you not just hear the doctor?” Sara told Nick and I nodded my head, though he couldn’t see me as I was pushing his wheelchair. “You're supposed to rest. We're on it, okay?”

“Yeah, relax, Ironside,” Warrick joked, finally, stopping the information dump that he was providing to the workaholic in the wheelchair.

We had gotten home, Sara helped me get Nick into the car. When she was done, I gave her a smile as I handed Nick the prescription that the hospital had filled. Nick took it, letting me shut the passenger side door. I knew that it killed him that I was doting on him – since Nick was the perfect gentleman. He insisted on always shutting my door, everything that a gentleman would do.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you guys?” Sara asked, genuinely concerned with Nick’s inability to move. I shook my head.

“We’ll be fine. Grissom needs all the help he can get on this case,” Sara nodded, understanding that Grissom and Catherine needed help. Plus Sara was a known workaholic. “Especially now that he’s down two people.”

“Alright,” Sara smiled. “But call me if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” I gave her a hug. “Thanks for being there.”

“No problem,” Sara waved and walked off to her own car. I got into my car and looked over at Nick who looked terrible. He seemed to be in a lot of pain and was trying to hold off on how terrible he felt.

“When I get you home, I’ll make something to eat. You shouldn’t take pain killers on an empty stomach,” Nick nodded, groaning as the car jostled his ribs. I sighed, pulling out of the parking space and then out of the hospital. Thankfully, the ride from the hospital to Nick’s house was relatively short, especially since it was really late.

Nick was leaning against me as I helped him up the walkway to his house. Then he handed me the keys, which I dropped onto the counter along with his prescription. Nick motioned for the bottle which I handed over, going into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water.

“You’re the best,” Nick sighed, taking two pills and setting it down on the counter. I lifted it up and read the instructions.

DESERT PALMS HOSPITAL (NAME) STOKES, NICK (FILL DATE) 4/17/02 PHONE NO. 555-0190 TAKE ON TO TWO TABLETS ... EVERY FOUR HOURS. VICODIN (EXPIRES) 04/17/03 (REFILL) 0 (BY) 11/17/02

Nick shuffled along to the sofa holding his ribs with his arm, where he settled down with a groan. I clucked my tongue in sympathy. I knew how painful broken ribs could be. Especially with the rest of his injuries; though he was no stranger to injuries. A former football player, but it had been several years since his playing days.

“Do you want something like a sandwich or do you think you want a meal?” I called out to Nick. He just groaned. “Nicky.”

“Can we wait for dinner?” Nick asked, more or less pleaded. “Just until the pills kick in and I can actually focus?” I nodded my head, exiting the kitchen.

“Sure. I’m going to wash my face and change my clothes, okay?” Nick nodded as I walked down the hall of his house. I had some clothes in one of his drawers, but I was definitely going to steal one of his shirts. Some nights, it was too exhausting to drive us both home – therefore, Nick would just let me crash at his place. He was too much of a gentleman not to trust; plus the two of us were usually exhausted from working doubles.

I giggled, grabbing one of his extra-soft LVPD shirts. He had discarded it a couple of days ago; which meant that it still smelled like him. I also grabbed a pair of my bike shorts. I went into the bathroom, peeling off my work shirt. I grabbed a washcloth and then washed my face and down my arms. As I was trying to get some of the day dirt off of my body, I heard knocking at the front door.

“I’ve got it!” Nick said. I quickly toweled off, opening the door. I didn’t bother with the LVPD shirt, as I was wearing a sports bra. It covered more than most bikini’s. I walked into the living room where a man I recognized from this case was standing in the middle of the room.

“I saw this house. I saw this house; I saw the number I saw the street name. Something is wrong here. Something terrible is going to happen here,” Morris Pearson stated. The hair on my arms stood up as I stood in the living room.

“Sir,” Nick tried to get his attention, but the psychic was just standing there, looking around. He had been right about everything else in this case – including the breakthrough of the stalker watching Jane from her attic.

“I can feel it,” he murmured, the hair on my arms rising at his words.

“Sir. Sir ... You're going to have to leave,” Nick was standing at the door.

“Please, please, listen to me!”

“Get out of here!” Nick yelled, having enough.

“Nicky! Listen to the man!” I finally interjected, believing that this man knew something. He knew too much about details that were never released to the public. This man knew about the dog.

“Listen to me!” Pearson turned to look at Nick. They stopped screaming at each other.

“I saw the address. I saw this address!” Pearson implored. Nick took a step away from the door.

“You saw my address?” Nick asked, sounding unsettled. Morris Pearson continued to walk further into the living room. I wrapped my arms around my bare stomach, wanting to run back to the bathroom for the shirt.

“Yeah, but that's not it, that's not it. I saw, I saw ... I saw crashing,” he was desperate, trying to state what he had seen in a manner that would make sense. Morris was trying to interpret what he was seeing. “I saw ... falling and crashing-- I saw somebody seeing through the back of his head. I don't know, I don't know ...”

Morris continued to mumble as he walked around. But suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to look at Nick.

“Green tea! Green tea! Does that mean anything to you? Green tea?” Nick and I both shared a look. It didn’t mean anything to either of us. Neither of us were very big tea drinkers, though I enjoyed a cup every now and again.

“I don't know,” Nick shook his head. Not only did he have to deal with this, but he had to deal with a concussion. His phone rang.

“Just ...” Nick stopped whatever he was about to say and answered his phone. I moved around Pearson to Nick’s side. “Hello?”

“Who?” Nick asked, looking over at me.

“Yeah, well, I'm not alone,” Nick responded.

“Your psychic's here,” Nick told who I assumed was Grissom on the other end. Then Nick hung up the phone. He looked over at me, grabbing our weapons out of the hidden compartment by the front door. Our service weapons were back at the station, but these were our personal handguns.

“Mr. Pearson,” Nick cocked his Glock 19, handing me my steel Colt M1911A1. I took the gun in hand, feeling the familiar weight, before cocking it as well. Pearson was out of our sight. Nick motioned to the hallway. “Mr. Pearson. Mr. Pearson ...”

Nick and I walked down the hallway. Nick took the lead, even though he was injured. At this point, I assumed the Vicodin was kicking in, as most of his pain seemed to take second burner. He checked the first door, nothing. Then he looked at the backdoor, but it was still locked and chained. I waited; gun drawn as Nick looked outside.

“Mr. Pearson, you back here?” Nick called, checking the other rooms. We heard the floor creak before a thud was heard.

I pointed up at the ceiling and Nick nodded. We pointed the guns at the ceiling and walked towards the living room. My heart sank as I realized it wasn’t green tea as in the drink, but rather the floor. A green T in the center of his rug. I touched Nick’s sleeve and pointed. He let out a breath at the sight, now realizing that whatever Pearson had seen was about to occur right here.

We both stood still in the living room, listening. The sounds were still coming from the ceiling. We both had our guns trained on the ceiling and all of a sudden, the ceiling caved in. A body hit the floor in front of us as debris sprayed everywhere. Nick dropped his gun while I had plaster dust in my eyes. I heard another thump but couldn’t see well due to the tears welling in my eyes. I still had my Colt in hand.

“Oh, man. You got to ... you got to watch who you let in here,” a male said. I blindly pointed my gun at the location of where the voice was heard. “Guy was snooping around all over the place. You know, smart move. Spare gun.” The male sighed, as I just blinked the dust out of my eyes, getting a clear look at the intruder.

“Put your gun down or I shoot Nick in the face,” I sighed, and set the gun down on the floor. My eyes were finally clearing up. “Ah. Keep it right by the phone, right? Right next to your address book and, and take out menus.”

Nigel Crane, the suspect in our Jane murder, gathered up my gun and then went to the front door. He secured the front door, drawing the chain and locking the door.

“Cops are on their way,” Nick said as I stood in the living room beside him. I took in a deep breath, knowing that I would have to fight this man. I squared my shoulders, planted my feet. He went to the window and pulled the blinds down.

“You wearing my clothes?” Nick sounded sickened. I did as well – knowing that I stole Nick’s clothes for comfort. What was this guy doing? Apparently, he was assuming the identify of his victims. And that explained where all of Nick’s clothing had gone.

“Oh, yeah. I'm ...” Nigel Crane seemed proud of his deviance. “You know, I-I-I picked these up at the dry cleaners and I ... I hope you don't mind. It's just that ... I'm sorry I, I just get a little confused about what's yours and what's mine.”

“You know what? I'm a little confused here myself,” Nick and I were both confused as to who this guy was and why he was trying to assume Nick’s identity. “Uh, why don't you refresh my memory. When did we meet?”

“Sports package,” Nigel Crane sounded incredulous as he snorted. “Hundred fifty channels. I-I-I even threw in a few movie channels. Free. We-we-we talked, like, forever. I mean, it's like I knew you my entire life.”

“You installed my cable.” Nick stated, brain working on overtime. I kept myself partially hidden behind Nick’s muscular body. I didn’t like the way this man was watching me, in my partial state of undress.

“Yeah. The ... the minute I met you I knew we connected. Because you told me what you did and I knew exactly what you were talking about, because ... that's what I do. I do it, too. You know, I observe people. I-I-I notice everything about them. I watch them. All the time.”

“Like you watched Jane Galloway?”

“Jane was cool. But, um, it would have never worked out between us, you know. Never. I mean, she had a boyfriend, and she was kind of stuck up. And you know what, she would have totally, totally gotten between us. So, you know, consider that a gift,” Nigel stated. “Though you have a girlfriend.” I swallowed deeply. This man was seriously unhinged and this might end badly for us.

“A gift?” Nick spat.

“Yeah. Prom night. Your date. Melissa.” Nigel smiled, looking proud of himself. “Bent over the toilet puking her guts out. Is that ringing any bells, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nick sounded freaked out.

“You know, I mean, Jane's hair was the wrong color but, you know obviously, I fixed that. Because I know how much you love redheads,” he pointed out. I felt my face flush as he motioned for me to come out. “Like this lovely specimen. You know, you ... you mentioned her name in your sleep.”

“You watch me sleep?” I felt sickened. I had slept over a couple of times at Nick’s house, used his shower since he installed the cable. He looked down at the dead psychic on Nick’s floor.

“You, um ... you want to open him up?” Nigel sounded eager, crouching down over the body. “Hmm?”

“No, no, it's, uh ... it's not our job,” Nick shook his head as he crouched down to be on eye level with Nigel. “You should know that. It's the coroner's gig.”

“Are you humoring me, Nick?” Nigel asked, sounding outraged.

“No,” Nick shook his head, voice soft.

“You know ... we made friends that day and every time since you just blew me off,” Nigel was definitely unhinged. I wondered how much longer it would take for Brass and the uniforms to come here. “Do you know that? You just completely blanked me. You are so self-absorbed.”

“Nick is not self-absorbed!” I interjected. Nigel sneered at me.

“I was right in front of your face,” he laughed. He stood up, getting more upset. “Manners, Nick! Manners!”

“ey, now, Nigel, now we got a D.B. here, huh?” Nick was trying to placate the man, buy us both some time. “You're going to help me with the crime scene, right?”z\

“No, no, I'm going to ... I'm going to ...” Nigel pointed Nick’s gun at my face. “Give you a brand-new one. I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to give you the best you ever had. Stand up, Nick, Aria. Stand up.”

Nick and I both rose to our feet. Nigel grabbed a hold of me, pulling me into his side. I shuddered at the feeling of his unoccupied hand trailing over my flesh. I really wished I had put on that T-shirt right now, as Nigel’s hand pet my abdomen.

“Nick, you know what a nine-millimeter slug does to a skull at close range? You know?” Nigel Crane held the gun in front of Nick’s face. My eyes filled with tears.

“Yeah,” Nick swallowed hard.

“Blow it right apart, right? Brains like strawberry swirled whipped cream, everywhere. And you,” Nigel pointed the loaded weapon back at Nick. “You'd have to scoop that stuff up, right? Yeah, little pieces of skull and bone and brains. All in individual baggies with the victim's name on the label.”

“ You know I don't want to disappoint you, Nigel, but this isn't the first time I've had a gun in my face,” Nick took a determined step towards Nigel.

“How do you want this to end, Nigel?” Nick asked.

“How do I want this to end?” Nigel echoed Nick’s question. “I want you to be able to remember my name.” He jammed the gun into the side of my head. Nick lunged for the gun, the two of them struggling for the gun. Shots were fired into the ceiling.

Just then, the door burst open, battering ram through the front door. The door crashed open and Brass along with several officers rushed into the house. Their guns were drawn.

“Get down! Get down!” It was a chaotic scene. Nigel kicked me hard in the face, while struggling with Nick. I let out a grunt, feeling my cheek split open, hot blood spilling down my face. Nick managed to get possession of the gun, holding it up to the ceiling. He took a step back, pulling me back with him. We watched as they handcuffed Nigel Crane.

“Hey,” Brass said to the both of us, he put a hand on the side of Nick’s neck. The two of us were emotional at the fact that some strange man was able to violate the house. We were breathing heavy, both of us shaking with anxiety. “It's, it's done. All right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, looking for all the world like this wasn’t done, struggling not to cry. Nick pulled me into his arms, running his hand down my back as he looked at Brass who called for some paramedics to attend to my cheek.

We were taken to the police station, where Nigel Crane sat at the interrogation room table. He was just muttering the same line over and over again ‘I am one, and who am I?’. It was honestly pretty eerie to stand in the observation room, seeing him mutter to himself.

Nick had his arm around me, reassuring himself that Nigel Crane hadn’t actually shot me as he had threatened. Catherine, Grissom, Warrick, and Sara were with us, watching this bizarre man have a complete meltdown.

“Why me?” Nick murmured. “Why us?”

“I don't think it was about you, Nick. Or Jane Galloway, for that matter. I think it was more about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. His premise is that social beings strive to belong. In Nigel's mind, Jane Galloway was someone he could control which was okay for a while but you ... you were someone he could actually become. See, Maslow's Fifth Tier of the Hierarchy is Self-Actualization.

“The problem for Nigel is that you would have to die in order for that to happen. Or else he would,” Grissom stated, making the hair on my arms stand on end. “He would have shot Aria and then himself.”

“Twenty-five years to life, Nick. It's over,” Sara stated, I turned to look at her as she sat on top of another table.

“It's not over for me or Aria,” Nick murmured. “It's over for Jane Galloway.”

“Well, we should get back to the lab,” Catherine stood, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder and one on my back in comfort.

“Yeah,” Grissom agreed, standing up. Warrick and Sara also stood, moving towards the door. They all left the room, leaving Nick and I standing in the middle, watching the madman that tried to kill me and might have killed Nick in his own home. As it was – Nick’s house was now stained with the death of Mr. Pearson.

[buildinggsr]

―the Grissoms denying the obvious CSI 1.16 | 1.20

[coppertophomegurl]

Some thoughts on Nick Stokes.

I love CSI for showing a tough "man's man" from Texas who loves beer and football, but also regularly cries and shows a full range of emotions.

I see cop/crime dramas so often make the men steely and hardened and emotionless and immune to the horror they see.

I love that CSI actually show that the crimes really get to Nick. He cries. At crime scenes. At work. And he doesn't apologize for it. And his coworkers don't make fun of him for it.

I love it. I love it.

[marvelslut16]

Literally all I have been watching for the past three months is the old CSI, somebody stop me before I write fanfiction for a show that nobody cares about anymore

[munsonlovers]

being his outlet - greg sanders

being a csi can be hard especially when children are involved. there are some cases that affect some more than others.

this case was a hard one for greg because he found the little boy shoved in a box down an alley while investigating another case. he couldn't believe why someone would treat a little boy like that. he was treated like trash and he was able to be thrown away and not be remembered.

it was a hard case but one he wouldn't forget. that poor kid had no one when he was being hurt by his people he was supposed to call his family. he didn't have anyone to remind him that it was going to be okay and that he wasn't going to be in pain anymore.

greg didn't know how to handle a case like this but all he did know was anger. he yelled at all his co-workers and at all the lab assistants. he wasn't normally like this but the case really got to him. gil tried to talk with him and even nick and sara but he just yelled and to them to leave him alone.

there was only one thing that nick and sara had to do, call you. you were the only thing that could calm greg down when he was struggling with a case.

"hey, what's going on?" you said softly.

nick pointed at greg in the lunch room, where he was pacing and throwing things.

"the case was a hard one, it involved a kid." sara said.

you walked over to the lunch room and knocked on the door frame. he looked up at you and he kept pacing.

"sweetheart, hey." you said softly. you walked up to him and stood in front of him to stop him from pacing.

he didn't look at anything but the ground. he didn't know what to say to you especially after he knew you saw how he was acting.

"what can i do to help you." you said softly rubbing his arm.

he didn't know what to say, all he did was hug you. you hugged him back so tight that all he did was break down. he was so upset from working the case with that little boy in his mind. he wanted to scream and kick but he just cried. you held him until he was ready to talk and be open with you.

"i-i just looked at him and wanted to hurt the people who hurt that little boy." he said still crying.

you put your hand on his face and rubbed your thumb on his cheek.

"love, you have such a big heart and i know you wanted to help that little boy. you did everything you could, you helped put the people who did this away." you smiled at him.

you could see that he was hurting and in his eyes you knew that whatever you said wasn't going to change how he was feeling.

"i-i know but just seeing him reminded me that i can't help every child that lives in a horrible house where they feel unwanted and not loved." he said wiping his tears.

"you helping this boy showed others that they aren't alone and that if they need help, they can come to someone they know they can trust. that boy is watching you help find who did this to him and you helped get justice for that little one." you said smiling at him.

you kissed him on the forehead and held his face in your hands and smiled at him.

"you did good my love, you helped someone today and he knows you will do the same thing for another little one. im so proud of you." you said pressing your lips to his.

"i love you darling, thank you." he said smiling.

"i love you too greg." you said smiling at him.

everyone looked at the two of you, they knew that only one person could make greg smile even after a hard case like today. calling you was one of the best decisions they made today and they felt happy to know that greg was happy and not angry or upset.

you were his outlet, his person and the only one that could keep him in line when his day went horrible.

[pennywaltzy]

Desert Race (1/?)

So this is a WIP I started...oh, fifteen years ago? But I ran across it and I definitely want to finish it (maybe for the 2024 round of WIPBB). It's a CSI/CSI: NY crossover with an eventual Nick/Lindsay ship. Enjoy!

Desert Race - It's on between the Vegas labs and the NYPD teams in the Law Enforcement Desert Relay, but unexpected sparks fly between Nick and Lindsay that puts a kink in both Sara and Danny's plans for winning the event.

READ CHAPTER 1

"Don't look at me." Catherine shook her head. "Last time I tried to do it, Grissom found a dead body. I don't want to risk it."

"Come on, Cath," Warrick said, smirking at her. "I heard that the LAPD team isn't holding grudges." In response, she balled up a piece of paper and threw it at him.

"Seriously, though," Sara said. "Someone from the lab has to do it."

"I would, but running and I just don't get along," Greg said. "Surfing would be one thing, but..."

"I already volunteered to be the driver of the poll vehicle," Nick said. "So I'm out."

Sara turned on Warrick, but he shook his head. "Just out of curiosity, is there any reason you want to win but don't want to have to run?" he asked.

"I just...I want to win."

"Then why don't you run?"

"Because if I do I can guarantee we'll lose."

"I don't know," Nick said. "I've seen you out jogging before. We may not place high, but I can assure you if you run we wouldn't lose."

"Besides, this year the only team we really have to worry about is the NYPD team," Catherine said. Everyone looked at her. "What? Just because I'm not participating doesn't mean I don't keep up with the competition."

"Why would we have to worry about them?" Sara asked.

"They've got some really fit runners. Must be all those chases through Manhattan," Catherine said. She turned to the laptop Greg was using in the break room. "Mind if I borrow that for a minute?"

"You break it, you buy me a new one," he said before moving out of the way.

Catherine sat down, tapped in a few keys and a website came up. She scrolled down a bit and stopped. "Okay, some of the teams who have already registered have a list of their participants and poll drivers. I went up against most of these guys, and they're good."

"Any of them you don't know?" Nick asked.

Catherine read through the list. "Just two, from the NYPD team. One's the poll driver, Detective Lindsay Monroe. The other's one of the runners... Detective Daniel Messer."

Nick's head snapped up. "Danny's running?" Everyone's eyes turned towards him. "What?"

"You know him?" Catherine asked. Then she shook her head. "Course you do. He's listed as Daniel, you called him Danny..."

"Knew him back in the college ball days. Didn't know he was a cop." He got off the table he'd been sitting on and walked over to the laptop, looking at the screen. He saw Danny's picture and grinned. "Yep, same guy."

"How well did you know him?" Greg asked.

"He and I tried out for the same minor league team. He got hurt so he dropped, but we hung out a bit. He wasn't a bad guy. A little cocky, but not bad." He shook his head, grinning. "A cop. Never would have seen that one coming."

Sara thought for a moment. "I think I feel my competitive edge coming on... Nick, if you'd help me train, I think I might just do this."

"You're on."

"Then I guess we have a complete team," Catherine said. "Good. I really didn't want to have to run this year..."

---

Danny tossed the baseball up in the air and caught it on the way back down. "Relax, Montana. It's not like we're going to Vegas to get married or something." He heard her choke on her coffee and he turned to look at her. "Okay, that probably wasn't the best time for me to say that..."

"Danny! Don't joke like that."

"What? Flack was ragging on you about it and you just grinned. I do it and I damn near kill you."

Lindsay just looked at him before shaking her head. "Danny, everyone's going to think that we planned this."

"Not my fault you were a last-minute replacement for Stella. We weren't expecting the case to get dragged out so long." He threw the baseball up again. "Got a surprise call from someone I met years ago when I played ball. He's a CSI in Vegas now." He caught it and looked at Lindsay. "Apparently, the Vegas team is making it their personal mission to beat us."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I get the feeling he wasn't supposed to be calling me." Danny grinned. "Nick's a pretty nice guy, doing that. Gives me more incentive to train."

"His name's Nick?"

"Yeah. Nick Stokes." He looked at her. "You'd probably like him. He's a real easygoing guy."

"It'd be nice to meet someone easygoing in this whole mess." She got up and looked at the screen he was looking at. "So what are you looking at?"

"Info on Vegas. Trying to figure out places to go to eat and stuff."

"Ah," she replied. "That would be a good thing to know."

"See, Montana? I'm good for some things other than running my mouth off."

She grinned at him. "Messer...just shut up and find places to eat."

"Yes ma'am."

[fascinating-nightmares]

Nick: Look, I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Warrick a little bit. Jim, holding Nick's notepad: You doodled your wedding invitation. Nick: No, that's our joint tombstone. Jim: My mistake.

[scripted-downfall]

Okay, sorry, I have to say it; Warrick Brown and Nick Stokes have an Energy to their Brotherly Friendship.

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes Characters: Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes, Gil Grissom, Catherine Willows, Sara Sidle, David Hodges, David Phillips, Warrick Brown, nick stokes family, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Conrad Ecklie, Jim Brass Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Blind Character, Blindness, Fluff, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Smut, Sex, Anal Sex, Top Nick Stokes, bottom greg sanders, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, First Time, First Kiss, nick stokes/greg sanders - Freeform, greg had a hard time adjusting, nick is right by his side, its gunna be a journey, but itll be worth it i promise, god i love these bois, beta? in this economy? Summary:

Greg has an accident out in the field the comes with some hefty consequences, to which he really doesn't adjust to well at all. But Nick will not let him go through this alone. And if, over much time spent together as a result, the two end up falling hopelessly in love, well, Nick wouldn't think that would be such a bad thing. ~~~~~~~~~~~ So a new fic I’m posting, I will actually post it properly tomorrow when im not exhasuted lol

[dutchessofcaladan]

New Possible Fic Idea

I'm thinking of writing a CSI fic based on the 3 teachers (2 of which I had as teachers, but the 3rd was arrested before I had his class) that were arrested while I was in middle school and junior high (3 teachers arrested for similar crimes in the span of 3 years...)

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

insecurities. ( gil grissom x reader )

You were enjoying a romantic meal for two that night. Gil proved that on top of being a top CSI, he was also talented in the culinary arts and you ate dinner over candlelight, music playing in the background but all you could focus on was each other. You were starting to believe luck was on your side that night as you were left undisturbed but your date night came to an abrupt end when his cell phone rang while you were sitting on the sofa. His left arm was around your shoulders, his hand on your cheek as his lips met yours with knee-crippling passion. But the second Catherine's ringtone sounded through the living room, it was all over.

You pulled away from his arms as Gil moved to pick up his cell phone on the coffee table and rolled your lips, hiding your disappointment with curiosity as he recounted Catherine's details of the crime scene so far. He ended the call after informing Catherine he was on his way and turned to you, his eyes sympathetic while he told you about the crime scene.

"Two skaters saw a man fall from a roof."

"I'll get my coat." You rose from the sofa, picked up your cell phone, and carried it to your purse, placing it inside before walking to the hallway to retrieve your jacket.

Gil drove to the lab to pick up your kits and you covered your dress with an official jacket. As you grew closer to the crime scene you turned your head that was resting on the rest, smiling softly when you noticed he kept glancing at you since you left his place.

"What? Do I have lipstick on my face?" You pulled the mirror down and checked your make up, looking at Gil when he shook his head.

"No, you look fine. I mean you look fantastic." Your smile grew as you pushed the mirror away, sitting back. "I know this is not what either of us had planned for tonight -"

"Comes with the territory." You understood what he was trying to convey, and knew he couldn't predict when a new case was called in. Since he hired you, there was always something there between you, and what started as attraction became something not quite love until you knew there was no other way to describe how you felt about each other. And while you imagined tonight ending differently, you didn't train to be a CSI because of the glitz and glamour that came with the job. "We can reschedule."

Gil nodded, and while he was also disappointed tonight came to an abrupt halt, he was wondering how he would be able to focus on the crime scene while you were wearing that dress.

Nick and Warrick arrived on the scene after Catherine, and Nick remarked how they had beaten Grissom to the crime scene as he was usually the first one to arrive. When Gil parked outside the yellow tape, the two turned to watch as you both got out of the car, sharing a glance at your dress.

Nick smirked as Gil held up the tape, allowing you to duck under before following. "Were you on a date?"

"No, I picked her up on the way." Gil replied before you could sass Nick who assumed he hadn't understood the implications in his question.

You followed Gil to the body, glaring at Nick who wiggled his eyebrows at your outfit, and while you wore a baggy CSI jacket over the dress, the fit around your thighs provided enough hints of the flirty dress underneath.

"Warrick, I want you to photograph down here, before moving onto the roof," Gil ordered, heading towards the building. "Y/N, you're with me."

You followed your boyfriend of two months, biting back a sigh, as you couldn't shake how quickly he shot down Nick and wondered if your relationship would ever be known to the team.

The feeling that he wanted your relationship to be kept hidden stayed with you for days as you worked the case and after following the evidence was proven to be murder. The team working to identify the killer. You suspected that something had been overlooked, something so small that it seemed insignificant which is why you spent over an hour examining Warrick's crime scene photographs, scouring every pixel with a magnifying glass.

Nick entered the room where you were working, photographs organized neatly on the table, and he looked at the photographs for a moment before he spoke. "Grissom wants to see you."

You sighed, sitting back. "It's probably about the particles on the victim's shoes." You looked at Nick with a pleading expression, "Can you deliver the report? I really think I'm onto something."

Nick nodded, "Sure." He observed as you retrieved the file from the table behind you. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" You sent him a small smile as you handed him the file.

"You seem a little off. Since we got this case you've not been acting like yourself. If its about what I said at the crime scene -"

"I know you were kidding." You sighed, "I was on a date when I got the call. And I haven't had the chance to talk to him about what is going on between us. I mean, I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure."

Nick sent you a friendly smile, "Talk to him. And if he isn't serious then I can list on two hands how many guys asked if you're single."

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He walked away and you sighed as you lowered your gaze to the photographs. You hadn't spoken to Gil about anything but the case and you knew you had to confront him eventually, but right now, you focused on the photographs of the scene, hoping to find the answer you were looking for.

Less than ten minutes later Gil entered the room where you were working. You raised your head, raising an eyebrow when he closed the door. He turned around and approached the table.

"We need to talk." He held up the file in his hand and you sighed, predicting what was to come. "Since when is Nick your delivery boy?"

"He was doing me a favor. I'm onto something -"

"No, you've been avoiding me." Gil corrected. "I want to know why."

You sighed, setting the magnifying glass on the table, and walking over to him. "What are we?" You asked. "I mean, is it as serious for you as it is for me?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, so you continued, "At the crime scene, you shut Nick down. Like you never want anyone finding out about us."

"Do you want people to find out about us?"

You threw him an aggravated glance, "Don't answer my question with another question."

Gil nodded slowly, "I reacted that way because I didn't think you wanted anyone to know we are dating."

It was your turn to feel confused. "Why? Why would you think that?"

"In these walls, I'm your boss. We both know what people would think."

You stepped closer, shaking your head, "I don't care about that. I've never cared."

"Really?"

You nodded, wetting your lips nervously. "Does it bother you?"

He shook his head, and you smiled softly. "So...it doesn't matter if anyone sees us kiss right now?"

Your smile grew when he stepped closer, shaking your head. "If you don't I'd be disappointed."

Gil mirrored your smile, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. You placed your hands on his jaw, leaning into his chest when he rested his hands on your waist.

Nick walked down the corridor, pausing when he noticed you and Grissom, grinning when he realized Gil was the man you were talking about. He tapped the paperwork off his hand as he left, shaking his head with a smile. It was time to inform Greg that he owed Catherine thirty dollars after the blonde had hinted at your romance weeks ago, but no one believe it could be true as you and Gil were both very private about your life outside work and now he understood why.

[buildinggsr]

The Grissoms & The Rules (4/4)