Gil walked into work as if for the first time that evening. Something about this place seemed unreal, something new. Perhaps it was just the evening before, full of laughter that had affected him so. It seemed as if something in the air was holding its breath, waiting to take the plunge into the unknown. And maybe he just read too much Tolkien. That could be too.
He walked past the DNA lab, and there she was. In her usual way, an auburn whirlwind of white lab coat and blue-white paper. And she was owed a very thorough explanation. If she would let him speak, that is.
�Jesse?� He avoided croaking like a dead frog by only a hair.
�Oh, hi. I have your spectral analysis, and the tire treads you were looking at yesterday belong to a 2000 Dodge Ram.� Ok, either she was ignoring the problem all together, or she was really, really angry and covering it by being nice only to explode at him at a moment�s notice. He wasn�t sure which he feared more.
�Listen, Jesse about last night��
�Yes, I wanted to thank you.� Gil�s mouth opened and closed several times, the most recent fish out of water Jesse had seen, though she wasn�t sure why. �I really appreciate you taking care of me last night. It�s not every man who wouldn�t take advantage of such a situation.�
The knot in his stomach tightened a notch, bringing his confusion to a grinding halt and reasserting his guilt. She knows; she hadn�t been asleep. But she doesn�t sound mad. That�s a good thing. Right? �Oh. So you weren�t completely...�
�Oh no, I was out cold, trust me.� Uh oh. Better come clean, old boy, or you�ll just regret it later.
�So, you don�t remember what happened.�
�Not really, no.� She stopped halfway to the printer and turned, a look Gil had feared working its way across her face. Confusion. Recognition. Shock. And a whole host of things Gil didn�t see long enough to identify. �Why? Did something happen?�
�In a way.� Again her face flashed so many things Gil couldn�t keep up, but the underlying fear tightened the knot inside him painfully. �It wasn�t anything bad, necessarily, it just kind of�happened.�
�Well, now that we established that something happened, maybe you should tell me about it, just so I know what to report to my new friend at the Sheriff�s office, if anything.�
His eyes closed a moment, steeling what little resolve he had left, shielded vaguely by what had once been his integrity. Gulp. Well, here goes my career� �I kissed you.�
Something flared suddenly behind those emerald eyes. Something dark. �You kissed me?�
�Yes. On your forehead.� Her arms folded tersely across her chest, and Gil swallowed hard. She has every right to be displeased, but does she have to look like she�s going to eat me alive? �It was more a friendly gesture. Paternal, really. I didn�t mean anything by it.�
�If you didn�t mean anything by it, you wouldn�t be this nervous.�
�Damn.� He was nervous. Good, he needed to be. She�d been right that he wouldn�t take advantage, but he did take a liberty. She didn�t object so much, but he deserved to sweat a little for this.
�And how exactly did you come to the stunning conclusion that this was even close to a good idea?� Tight, crisp, angry. Very angry, and very about to do something very rash and very deserved if he didn�t do something, and fast.
�Um�well, it wasn�t so much about thinking, and that�s kind of what I wanted to apologize for.� Backpeddling. He knew good and well this wasn�t going to go anywhere, except where she led him. He only hoped he�d be able to pick up on something quickly. She didn�t seem much in the mood to talk, not that eh could really blame her. Was this how suspects felt in interigation? He�d have to file this feeling away�. No! This was not the time to think about that!
�Yeah, ok.� She turned on her heel and moved purposefully back behind the microscope counter, scribbling rather roughly in a case file. He took a single step forward, and could almost feel the warding look she shot him. She turned back just as quickly, continuing to write as he stood there, feeling more naked than he ever had before in his life.
�Look, I�m really sorry. I didn�t mean to� oh hell, I don�t even know what I meant.� She didn�t budge. She didn�t even look at him as he tried desperately to think of something. But as he watched her, knowing full well she was listening even if she was paying him no heed, it hurt. Everything hurt, from the tight knot in his gut to the hard lump quickly forming in his throat. Dear gods, he was going to lose them both, just for reaching out. Maybe he was destined to be alone after all. �I�m so sorry, Jesse.�
�Yeah, well. This just mean you won�t be getting that new racing cockroach for Christmas this year, that�s all.�
Gil�s eyes shot wide. Racing cockroaches? What the hell is she�? Understanding crept across his face as he watched only her eyes grin from beneath barely controlled sunset curls. She looked back up a moment, mischief playing across her eyes much as it had in recent days. The change was so strange and abrupt, yet not forced.
�You�re not mad?�
�No, I�m not mad. But you need to get out assignments so I can have something to do later.� Any anger in her face melted away to a teasing little smile, one that made his insides melt and pool into his legs, making several things very hard to move just then. Her pen tapped the counter gently. He looked down at the packet of papers next to him. When had he picked up assignments? He knew he hadn�t looked through them yet. He looked back to Jesse, who was absently chewing on a pen cap. Minx.
�Right.� He picked up the stack, leafing through it as he made his way to the door. Just as he did, a shuffle of paper caught his attention, and he watched Jesse continue her work, her speed and precision unaffected by his revelations. Such a wondrous creature.
�Oh, and Jesse?� She looked up, that dark look replaced with her usual delicate smile. �Thanks.�
�Just don�t do it again, ok?� Her laughter sang in her eyes, and he knew he was both forgiven and lost. Nymph. Will you ever know what you do to me?
�Count on it.�
�What the hell do you mean they convicted him?!� Ecklie practically screeched into the phone receiver, causing this really nasty ringing across the line.
�Yeah. I thought you�d want to know.� He could hear the other man groaning, but Ecklie really didn�t care much. �I also thought you�d be pleased. Someone in your lab obviously knows what they�re doing.�
Yeah, my evil niece. Great. That�s just fucking great. �Yeah, well. Thanks for the info.�
�Oh, one more thing, Ecklie. Who�s that new girl working for you in the DNA? I got a chance to work with her on another case as well as this one, and she�s really-� *Click* Ecklie didn�t want to know what Jesse was. All he knew right then was that she�d been right. She�d made an ironclad case against that LVU rapist, and all it had taken was a replaced doorknob and a key.
Ecklie held the letter in his hand, still not sure what he was going to do with it. It had been sent certified, so he couldn�t just burn it, which had been his first impulse. Jesse had been a pain since the day she�d showed up here, not to mention the best damn DNA analyst the lab had ever had. Ever. And now she was being hailed as a �Godsend to the Las Vegas Law Enforcement Community� by the governor? When the hell did the governor care about the Crime Lab? And why the hell was Ecklie suddenly getting paperwork for funding that he could never get on his own until now? And this without even asking for it!
He didn�t have to look far. Apparently, the number of solved cases recently due to exemplary forensic evidence had done the work for him. He could try to use this against Greg Saunders, citing him for shotty work, but he knew that would never fly.
And now he could never get rid of Jesse. Not with this kind of recognition�
Recognition she didn�t know about. And she wouldn�t, if he had anything to say about it. She didn�t deserve any for the way she was treating him! In his own lab, no less! No, he thought as he stood from his chair, a determined spring in his step. He was not going to let her be that cocky. She was going to know her place by the end of this thing. He�d see to that.
Gil walked through the Break-Out room, giving out assignments as he went, much to the groaning acquiescence of his employees.
�Catherine, we have a double homicide at Caesar�s.� She took her packet, smiling a secret smile Gil had only seen her use before with cold cases and hot dates.
�Ok, Warrick, you�re with me on this.� Warrick looked up at his lover with playful disdain.
�You people just will not keep me out of a casino, will you?�
�Nothing like temptation to strengthen your resolve.� Warrick eyes narrowed slightly, and Gil knew to head this argument off at the pass.
�If you two are done?� Catherine stopped giggling as Warrick cleared his throat in perfect Barry White fashion. Gil sighed deeply, wishing for a moment that he had such freedom of displayed affection.
�Sara, Greg, you have a car fire with fatality out on I-15.� Sara looked down at the page a moment before taking it resignedly.
�Joy.�
�Hey, at least it isn�t pigs.� Greg piped in for the first time all night, and Grissom couldn�t help but smile at Sara�s grimace. He remembered that evening quite vividly, and he knew she still did, too.
�Funny.�
�Nick, you have� Nick?� Not a �Nick� in sight, and that was most unusual. Ever since Nick made Level 3 CSI, he�d been punctual, even early some days just to make sure no one needed help before assignments were handed out. Gil had admired his tenacity, especially since it let Gil see his favorite CSI more often. �Anyone seen Nick?�
�Not yet.�
�I�ll see if I can track him down. You all have your assignments, get to it.� Sara and Greg followed Grissom out, leaving Warrick the perfect chance to get one good tickle in before Catherine had her defenses up. A quick leap out of her chair got her out of range, but not out from under Warrick�s penetrating gaze.
�A double at Caesar�s, huh? I�ll give a call over to Frankie and see if anyone�s been up to anything lately.�
�And you thought I was just trying to tempt you.� A single finger swept down her cheek, her eyes fluttering just that little bit that made every nerve in his body shiver. Damn her wicked ways.
�Tease.� She was on him without looking, which made the danger of holding her in the office all the sweeter.
�Yeah, but at least I make good.� He leaned down and took her pillowy lips, not caring who saw them. He loved this woman, and one day soon he would shout it from the rooftops of the strip.
�No, you don�t just make good. You make very, very good.�
Nick ran a hand over his face for the third time in five minutes. He felt like death warmed over, and the last thing he wanted to see as he stepped out of the locker room was Gil Grissom.
�Good evening, Nick.� He held up the assignment, which Nick all but snatched out his boss�s hand.
�Whatever.�
�Nicky?� Nick stopped at the nickname, a twinge of something close to comfort stirring at how easily the name seemed to fit the man saying it. Nick turned, and no anger met his eyes, no malice. Only concern. And hurt. �What is it? What happened?�
�Nothing. I�m sorry, I just didn�t get a whole lot of sleep last night.� Although from the looks of things, Gil was fresh as a daisy. Gee, wonder how that happened?
�Ok. Take it easy tonight, and make sure you get some decent sleep tomorrow, ok? I don�t need one of my best not up to snuff. Deal?� Grissom smiled that perfect half smile he had, and Nick knew he was lost to anger.
�Deal.� Nick watched Gil walk away, taking with him all the bitterness Nick had and leaving behind only the pain of knowing he�d missed his chance. Gil was as straight as they come; Nick had always known that. But the best part about his fantasies had been the slim possibility that one day they might come true. Now, left in the wake of a now taken Gil Grissom, it felt like a little part of Nick had died. The part that had held out hope. The hope that Nick had clung to for so long, pining for a man he knew he�d never have.
And what a man! For a guy who didn�t have the greatest people skills, he always had this incredible well of empathy and compassion for people that had drawn Nick in the first day they�d met. Why did he have to care so much? And why didn�t Nick want to kill Jesse for taking something so precious from him?
Because he was never mine. And that one fact haunted Nick�s thoughts as he worked his case that evening, oblivious to a livid Ecklie brushing past him just after 6:30.
�I don�t care who the hell your mother is! You don�t get to talk to me that way, you insolent little bitch!� The office secretary, Judy, pulled her hand away from the door handle slightly, taken quite aback by not only the language emitting from the other side of the glass door, but the volume as well. She looked in to see Ecklie and the new lab tech. Jesse? Was that her name? Ecklie�s face was turning red, but she looked unfazed. Which was remarkable, considering they were just coming to the end of night shift.
�Look, Comrade, you can take it or leave it, but you can�t get rid of me, and we both know that!� And it sounded like she could hold her own, too. Judy pulled herself together a bit, encouraged by such a defiant display. Judy never did like Ecklie, not after he�d accused one of the CSI�s of murder.
�Wanna bet, you little shit?!� She took a deep breath and braved the worst, ready to bear witness to anything she would soon encounter.
�Excuse me, Mr. Ecklie?�
�What?� A little too sharply, Judy straightened and tried not to shake as she spoke.
�You have a visitor.�
�Visitor? You know we�re not allowed to bring people-� A wave of ebony hair and clothing pushed past Judy just then, moving to stand where everyone in the room could see her, which was just her style.
�So here you are, little brother!� Jesse froze, begging somehow that she hadn�t been seen, but she knew better. Not only was she seen, she was a target, and in the huntress�s sights. Ecklie blanched, that tiny muscle beneath his left eye twitching again.
�Marcella?� A pair of eyes not unlike her own found Jesse�s as she struggled to breathe.
�Mom?�
Disclaimer: The characters, names, and references made herein belong to CBS inc, Jerry Bruckheimer, etc. No copyright infringement intended. For fun, not profit.
