FANFIC: All The Way To Paris by Caroline Crane 1/4

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: All the Way to Paris by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: This is an AU that starts at the end of season three and then breaks off from canon. If you've read "Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders" the beginning will seem familiar -- it starts with one of the four AU storylines from that fic and then explores what could have happened if the show had ever dealt with the lasting effects of Greg's injuries.

Chapters:part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04
An additon to this universe - August 2008: Yesterday's Notions

Part One

He'd been hoping to be done by the time the night shift started, but he'd been in Vegas for a long time and as it turned out he'd managed to collect a lot of stuff in the lab over the years. Part of him was tempted to leave it all behind, to let the next flunkie deal with the mess. He couldn't bring himself to walk away, though, mostly because leaving meant it was finally over.

It was hard to believe any of this stuff had survived the explosion; some of it hadn't, like the CDs that were permanently melted to a drawer inside the wreck of what used to be the DNA lab. Other things had survived; things that really shouldn't have, like his textbooks from Berkeley and a plastic key chain in the shape of a surfboard that one of his friends had sent to remind him of what he was missing in California.

He wouldn't have to miss it for much longer, because soon he'd be staring at the ocean again and the desert would be a distant memory.

The door opened but he didn't look up; he was determined not to let anyone see how much this was getting to him, especially not Grissom. He knew Gris felt bad about having to let him go, but that didn't make it any easier to leave. It didn't make the situation any less unfair, and it didn't make him any less angry that a stupid accident had cost him his dreams.

"Hey. What's up?"

Nick, and from the sounds of it Grissom hadn't bothered to spread the word yet. Not that he had any reason to, Greg reminded himself. It wasn't like anyone would really notice once he was gone.

"Just cleaning out my desk."

"Wait…what?"

He looked up at Nick, smiling grimly at the other man's confused expression. "I'm outta here. Night shift's gonna have to find another whipping boy, because I'm not the right man for the job."

"Why?"

Greg held up his hand, watching it shake for a few seconds before he lowered it again and gripped the edge of the table in front of him. "Can't do my job if I can't even hold onto a sample, can I?"

"Jesus," Nick murmured, his voice low and shocked and if Greg didn't know better, he might have thought Nick sounded a little sad. "I'm sorry, man, I guess I didn't notice."

"Yeah, that was the idea," Greg answered, turning back to the last few books he hadn't packed up yet.

"But they can't just fire you, can they? I mean can't you go for physical therapy or something?"

"The doctor says it's nerve damage. It might stop someday, but Grissom doesn't want to keep me on the payroll while I wait. They need somebody who can process evidence, and I'm damaged goods now."

"They can't just fire you," Nick said again, more forcefully this time. Greg could hear the rest of his sentence even though Nick didn't say it out loud: They can't just fire you after you got hurt on the job. They can't just throw you away like you don't even matter. Only they could, and that was exactly what they were going to do.

He didn't have an answer for Nick; he'd been wondering the same thing since Grissom gave him the news, trying to figure out how they could just cut him loose after Catherine had caused the explosion that left him so damaged. He hadn't been able to come up with an answer he could live with, so he'd stopped thinking about it at all.

"Doesn't matter," he finally said, still carefully not looking at Nick as he loaded the last of his books into the box. "Vegas is getting a little old anyway. Plus, the surfing's lousy."

Something else he'd probably never do again.

"So you're just leaving? Does Grissom know?"

Greg looked up at that, his features twisting into a scowl for a moment before all the fight rushed out of him again. "It doesn't matter, Nick. There's nothing for me here. I came to Vegas because of this job, now that it's over there's no reason to stay."

"Come on, man, of course there is."

He knew Nick was trying to help, that he was doing that Nick thing where he tried to make everything better. Greg wanted to tell him that there was no way it could ever be better, because all he'd ever wanted was to be part of the team and now that was never going to happen. He had a feeling that if anyone would understand that it would be Nick, but there was no way he was going to ask Nick for pity. He didn't even want it, not really. What he wanted was to go back in time and figure out a way to be anywhere but inside that lab when it blew.

"Forget it," he said, sparing Nick a quick glance as he spoke. "It's done, I leave this afternoon."

"So that's it," Nick said, his voice flat and for a second Greg could almost believe he really cared. "You're just leaving, just like that?"

"Just like that," Greg echoed, his voice falsely cheerful as he lifted the box and struggled not to drop it. "Look, man, I appreciate the concern, but I gotta go."

"Wait," Nick called after him as Greg headed for the hallway. He could hear Nick behind him but he didn't slow down; the last thing he wanted to do was drag this out, not even with Nick. The other man seemed determined to have his say, though, and Greg knew there was no way he could outrun him. "Can I…give you a lift or something?"

And God, what he wouldn't have given to hear that pleading tone in Nick's voice just a few weeks ago, back before his entire life turned upside down. But now he knew what it was, and he wasn't about to play victim to Nick's latest crusade to do the right thing. "Thanks, but I've got it covered."

Nick nodded and Greg took that as a sign that he was finally going to let it go. He swallowed a surge of disappointment and shifted the box in his arms, pausing long enough to glance back at Nick. "So I guess I'll see you around."

"Listen, G…" Nick paused and looked down at the ground, letting out a frustrated sigh before he looked up again. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Greg nodded and shouldered the door open, not glancing back to see if Nick stayed to watch him walk away.

~

The funny thing about time was that there always seemed to be plenty of it, until suddenly there wasn't anymore. As soon as Greg told him he was leaving the regret started to set in, and by the time Nick watched Greg walk out of the lab and his life he knew he'd blown it. He wanted to go after Greg, to tell him all the things he'd always thought there would be time to say, but Greg had made it pretty clear that it was already too late.

He was leaving, going back to California to try to forget all about Vegas and the explosion, and Nick was going to have to live with the fact that he'd missed his chance. And the worst part was that he hadn't really known whether or not he wanted that chance until it was taken away from him. He'd spent a lot of time over the past few years telling himself that getting involved with Greg was a bad idea, because they worked together and because the whole lab would know about it, and mostly because they were totally incompatible. For a long time he'd managed to believe that, but all his carefully crafted excuses seemed stupid when he watched Greg walk out of the lab for the last time.

He spent the first few days telling himself it was just as well, that at least they hadn't started something that would complicate Greg's decision to leave. Only he didn't even know if there had ever been any chance of them starting anything; Greg flirted, sure, but he flirted with everyone, and Nick had never been able to tell if the other man meant anything by it or if he was just being Greg.

His first reaction had been to blame Grissom; it wasn't fair that Greg wasn't given a chance to get better, that he was just tossed out like he didn't mean anything after an accident that wasn't his fault. If anyone should be held accountable it was Catherine, and even though Nick knew it was an accident it hadn't stopped him from saying it to Grissom.

The look on his boss' face had made him even angrier at the time, but after he calmed down he understood what it meant. There was surprise and regret and a sort of dawning realization that at the time Nick had thought was Grissom's way of patronizing him. It took him a day or two to figure out that it wasn't patronization at all; the truth was that Grissom knew, he could tell exactly why Nick was so upset about Greg leaving. It had probably been written all over his face when Nick stormed into his office to confront him, yelling about fairness and recovery time and Catherine's role in ruining Greg's life.

When he was done feeling guilty about blaming Catherine he finally got around to feeling weird about the fact that Grissom knew, but somehow even that wasn't as bad as not having a clue what to do with all his leftover feelings for Greg. So he tried throwing himself into work, and when that didn't distract him enough to forget the look on Greg's face when he said goodbye, he found himself down at the county personnel office, sweet-talking the girl behind the counter into giving him Greg's parents' phone number.

It was a lot easier than he'd expected it to be; he'd half expected to have to go crawling back to Grissom when Personnel turned him away, but all he'd had to do was turn on his most charming smile and hint around that he might be interested in getting more than just a number from her, and she'd practically handed him Greg's file. He felt a little bad about it, but once he had Greg's number in his pocket it was a lot easier to forget about what he'd done to get it.

Since then he'd been carrying the slip of paper around in his pocket, taking it out every once in awhile to look at it. He'd read the numbers so many times now that he could recite them from memory, but he still hadn't dialed them. Part of him wanted to, just to make sure Greg was okay and that he was moving on with his life. Or maybe he was hoping it would give him some closure, that if he knew Greg was okay he could get on with his own life.

Every time he thought about making the call he came up with an excuse not to, and a week later he was still trying to convince himself that Greg wouldn't want to hear from him. It had gotten so bad that he'd found himself pulling the number out of his pocket right in the middle of a shift, and when he felt someone lean over his shoulder he realized that he'd been doing it again.

"What've you got?"

Nick started at the sound of Catherine's voice, crumpling the paper in his hand and shoving it back in his pocket. "Nothing," he answered, although he could tell by her expression that she didn't believe him. "It's personal."

For a second Catherine just looked at him, her lips pressed together as though she was trying to decide whether or not to say whatever was on her mind. "Does it have anything to do with Greg?"

He'd managed to avoid mentioning Greg around Catherine since the other man left; he hadn't talked about Greg with anyone since that day in Grissom's office, as a matter of fact, and for a second he wondered if Grissom had told Catherine what Nick had said. "I told you, it's personal."

"Okay," Catherine said, and when she shrugged he thought she might actually let it go and leave him to work their case in peace. He should have known better; he'd known Catherine as long as he'd known Greg, and he knew she never let anything go. "It's just that you've been moping around like you lost your best friend since he left. I didn't realize you guys were so close."

"Yeah, well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me." The anger in his voice surprised even him, and he could tell by her expression that she hadn't been expecting that reaction. He knew it wasn't her fault; it was all just a terrible accident, he'd told himself that at least a thousand times in the past few weeks. It was hard not to blame her, though, especially when she was still here and Greg…wasn't.

"Nick, come on…"

"Forget it," he interrupted. "I need to make a call, I'll be back in a few."

He didn't wait for her to answer before he walked out of the house, past the lines of yellow police tape and into the cool night air. He dug through his pockets until he found his cell phone, dialing the number he'd memorized a week ago. When he heard the first ring he thought about hanging up; he wasn't sure what made him decide to call right then, but it was only 9:00 in California and now that the phone was ringing he couldn't just hang up.

A few more rings and he realized no one was going to pick up, then the line connected and an unfamiliar voice – Greg's father, he assumed – told him to leave his name and number. For a second he considered hanging up and trying again later; there was no reason to leave a message for Greg's parents, especially when he wasn't even sure if Greg had gone home to them. Grissom had told him that Greg was back in California, though, and at the very least he was probably in regular contact with his parents.

He took a deep breath and waited for the beep, then he started talking before he could change his mind again. When he hung up he wasn't even sure exactly what he'd said, but for some reason he felt a little better. He was pretty sure Greg would get his message eventually, and at least this way he'd know that Nick hadn't forgotten about him as soon as he left town.

~

Another wasted night, and Greg was starting to think moving back to California was a mistake. He didn't regret leaving Vegas; staying there would have been way too painful, especially with the risk of running into people from the lab. He'd thought going back to a place where he knew people would be the best thing, but now that he'd spent a few painful evenings catching up with old friends he was starting to think he'd been wrong.

Maybe he should have gone back to New York or San Francisco, or maybe even somewhere he'd never been before like D.C. It would be easier to start over where people didn't know him, where he didn't have to wonder if everyone he talked to felt sorry for him. He hadn't told anyone except his parents why he left Vegas, but every time he got together with his friends it felt like they knew anyway, like they could take one look at him and the way his hands shook and guess exactly what had happened.

Most of them had heard about the explosion, and they were all smart enough to put two and two together once they saw him try to pick up a glass without spilling beer all over the table. None of them had to say it out loud; they all knew exactly what he wasn't telling them, and it made being around them more uncomfortable than he'd expected. He'd thought nothing could be worse than having Grissom tell him it wasn't working out, then having Nick show up while he was trying to make a graceful exit. It turned out he was wrong, though, and it was getting to the point where he was thinking up excuses to avoid seeing anyone.

He could tell his friends expected him to be his old self, so he tried to keep up the jokes and the witty comebacks whenever anybody asked him why it had taken him so long to come to his senses and get out of the desert. And if they believed that his life there had been one long party it wasn't really hurting anybody. It didn't hurt to let them believe what they wanted, because it saved him from telling them the truth.

The truth was way too hard to think about, and he knew what would happen if he tried to talk about it. He'd never be able to keep the wistfulness out of his voice, or the bitterness when he got to the part where the person who'd caused the accident still had their job. He couldn't think about the regret in Nick's voice when he said goodbye; it was way too close to what he'd been hoping to hear for years, and if there was a chance that Nick felt something for him…well, that was the kind of thing he was better off not knowing.

He dropped his keys on the counter in his parents' kitchen, sighing at the sight that hadn't changed much since he was a teenager. Same wallpaper, same dark woodwork making the room look a lot smaller than it was, same white phone on the wall next to the microwave. The light on the answering machine was blinking, meaning his parents weren't back from the party they'd gone to. He reached into the fridge for a soda before he pressed the button on the machine, leaning back against the counter as he popped the top on the can and listened to his parents' messages.

The first message was his aunt calling to remind his mother about their lunch date for the next day, and he started to wonder why he'd bothered listening to his parents' messages at all when a familiar voice made him choke on a mouthful of soda. He reached up absently to wipe his mouth as he listened to Nick's voice, his throat tight and his heart pounding too fast at the unexpected sound.

"This is…uh…Nick Stokes. I'm a friend of Greg's…from the Vegas crime lab. I'm trying to get in touch with him, just to see how he's doing. If you could give him my number and ask him to call me I'd appreciate it."

Nick rattled off his phone number, but Greg was too stunned to hear the rest of the message. He'd never expected to hear from any of them, and definitely not from Nick. Sure, he'd heard the regret in Nick's voice when he left, but that had just been Nick's own frustration at not being able to fix the situation. It didn't have anything to do with Greg; it couldn't. Nick was probably just calling to check up on him because he still hadn't gotten over feeling guilty about not being able to put everything back together again.

There was a time when Greg thought Nick's eagerness to fix everything around him was sort of charming; he knew it didn't go over that well with the other CSIs, and he'd heard some of the lab rats gossiping behind Nick's back about being Grissom's pet. Greg knew Nick wasn't just trying to suck up to Grissom, though, and that was the thing he liked best about Nick. He really did want to help everyone, and he took it personally when he couldn't.

Only Greg had never been on the receiving end of that kind of pity before, and now that he was he didn't want it. He didn't want to be reminded of what he'd given up – no, what had been taken from him – and he definitely didn't want Nick to be the one doing the reminding. If Catherine had called, or Jackie, or even Grissom, it wouldn't have been so bad. He could take pity from any of them – he could even take it from Sarah or Warrick or any of the other lab techs, but he couldn't take hearing Nick's voice on his machine. On his parents' machine, of all things.

He pressed erase as soon as the message ended, before he had time to write down Nick's number. And he didn't regret it, because there was no way he was going to call Nick back to thank him for the pity. He wasn't going to waste his time making Nick feel better, not when the situation had never had anything to do with Nick in the first place.

The back door opened while he was still staring at the machine, and he flinched when he heard his parents' voices as they let themselves into the house. He swallowed against the weird flutter in his stomach and turned to face them, forcing a casual grin when his mother caught sight of him.

"You're home," she said, and when his parents exchanged a quick look it was obvious they'd spent most of their evening talking about how well he wasn't bouncing back from the accident. "I thought maybe you'd stay out with your friends."

"Most of them have to work in the morning," he reminded her, regretting it as soon as the word 'work' escaped his lips. "Aunt Lisa called to remind you about tomorrow."

"Thanks, hon," she said, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to his forehead. There had been a time when he would have pulled away and made a big show of insisting he was too old for that kind of thing just to make her laugh, but now whenever she kissed him it made his throat close up and he couldn't bring himself to put up a fight. "Anyone else call?"

"No." His gaze strayed to the machine automatically, but the light wasn't blinking anymore and he knew Nick's message was gone. It wasn't really a lie; the message hadn't technically been for them, and there was no reason for them to know one of his former coworkers was calling to check up on him. When he didn't call back Nick would take the hint, if he hadn't forgotten about it already.

~

For a few days after he called Nick felt a little better. He felt like he'd done something, at least, and now all he had to do was wait for Greg to call him back. When that didn't happen right away Nick told himself it didn't mean anything; it was possible that Greg didn't talk to his parents every day, so maybe they hadn't given him the message yet. Or maybe he was busy settling into his new life, looking for an apartment or a job or maybe even rethinking his decision to leave Las Vegas.

And that was probably too much to hope for, but Greg had left Las Vegas without giving himself any time to think about it, and it was possible he'd change his mind and come back. It happened all the time, and maybe after Greg had a little time to think about it he'd realize that leaving didn't solve anything.

After a week passed without a call from Greg Nick started to wonder if he'd ever gotten the message, but he wouldn't let himself call back. He didn't want Greg's parents to think he was being pushy, and there was always the chance that Greg had gotten his message and just hadn't called him back. Then again, it was possible he'd written the number down wrong, or maybe the machine was broken and they'd never heard Nick's message at all.

He'd come up with at least a dozen different scenarios by the end of the first week, and it was getting to the point where he jumped every time he heard a phone ring. For the past few hours he'd been working hard not to think about it; he was working with Grissom for the first time in ages, and the last thing he needed was for his boss to start wondering what was wrong with him. It had been bad enough when Catherine and Warrick were constantly giving him weird looks, but convincing Grissom that nothing was wrong would be almost impossible.

It didn't help that Grissom had already figured out exactly what was bothering Nick; he hadn't said anything about it since that day in his office, but every time Grissom looked at him Nick got the feeling he was thinking about it. And okay, it had probably come as a surprise that Nick had taken Greg's leaving so hard, but it wasn't completely out of left field. They'd always been friends, and in the past year or so Nick had found himself seeking out Greg's company during slow shifts more and more.

Maybe if he'd let Greg know he was interested in more than just conversation the other man would still be in Vegas, but there was no way Nick was going to know unless he talked to Greg. He pulled his cell phone out and checked it for the hundredth time, scowling at the almost fully charged battery before he shoved it back in his pocket.

"Hey Gris," he said as he loaded his kit into the back seat of Grissom's truck, "you haven't heard anything about Greg, have you?"

He climbed into the passenger seat to find Grissom watching him curiously. "Such as?"

"You know, people calling for job references, that kind of thing." As soon as he asked the question he wished he hadn't, but Grissom was the only one who knew how important this was to him, and he was the only one who might have any information about Greg.

"That's confidential information, Nick," Grissom answered, and Nick was glad it was dark in the truck so the other man wouldn't see him blush. He didn't really see what was so unethical about just telling Nick if Greg was looking for a new job, but he knew Grissom and he'd known better than to ask in the first place.

"Can you at least tell me where he went? Did he say anything?"

And he wasn't looking, but he could feel Grissom's curious expression as the other man glanced over at him. He had no idea what Grissom was thinking, and as far as he was concerned he never needed to. All he wanted from his boss was information, but he wasn't sure he was going to get even that much.

"As far as I know he went back to L.A. The forwarding address he left was care of his parents in San Gabriel." Grissom paused long enough to steer the truck into the flow of traffic, glancing over at Nick again once they were headed back toward the lab. "I take it you haven't heard from him?"

Nick swallowed a frustrated sigh and glanced out the window, watching the landscape pass by in a blur. "I called and left a message at his parents' place. He hasn't called back."

"He's been through a lot. Just give him some time," Grissom answered, and Nick felt his face flush an even deeper shade of red.

He had no idea why he was telling Grissom any of this; it was a little creepy, talking to his boss about something he wasn't even sure he understood. Grissom was the last person he'd ever go to for relationship advice, even if he had a relationship to seek advice about. This thing with Greg…well, he had no idea what it was, but it definitely wasn't a relationship. Maybe it could have been a few months ago, but now all he was really hoping for was a phone call. He wouldn't let himself think about what happened after that, not when he still didn't even know if Greg wanted to talk to him.

They spent the rest of the blessedly short trip back to the lab in silence, and Nick spent the remainder of their shift avoiding Grissom as much as possible. It had been almost easy to ask those questions in the darkness of Grissom's truck, but now that they were back under the harsh lights of the lab he couldn't even look at the other man without blushing. And it just showed how desperate he really was if he had to stoop to asking Grissom for information, especially when he'd known before he even asked the question that Grissom would never tell him if anyone had called about Greg.

By the time he finally made it home to the silence of his house he knew he had to do something before this got even more out of control than it already was. He just needed to talk to Greg, even if it meant annoying his parents. He checked his messages to make sure Greg hadn't called and then picked up the phone, dialing the number from memory and waiting while the line connected. After two rings someone picked up, and when he heard the familiar voice say 'hello' his heart skipped a beat.

"Greg?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Nick started to wonder if Greg could hear him when the other man finally answered. "Nick. Hey."

"Hey," Nick echoed. It was strange, but just the sound of Greg's voice started a spark of heat in his stomach that spread all the way to his toes. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but there was no one there to see him so he didn't bother trying to stop. "I called about a week ago…"

"Yeah, sorry," Greg interrupted, "things have been a little crazy around here."

"It's cool," Nick answered a little too quickly. He hadn't called to make Greg feel guilty, but there was something about his tone that seemed off, and Nick couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. "I was just checking in, seeing how you were doing."

"I'm good. Just busy entertaining my many admirers."

Greg laughed, but it sounded a little forced, and Nick couldn't quite convince himself that it was just the connection making Greg's voice sound so flat. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what or even if Greg wanted to hear it. All he'd wanted for the past three weeks was to hear Greg's voice and know that he was okay, but now that Nick had him on the phone he had no idea what to say.

"So you're planning to stay in California?" Nick asked, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. What he really wanted to do was beg Greg to come back to Vegas, but he knew he couldn't do that without explaining why it was so important to him.

"Looks that way. Speaking of which, I've got a job interview to get to, so…"

"Right, no problem," Nick answered, fighting back the panic that rose in his throat when he realized Greg was going to hang up. They'd barely said anything; Nick had no idea how Greg was doing, if he was happy or even if he'd made any more progress in his recovery. "Listen, G…"

He paused as he searched for something else to say, anything to make this feel less awkward. What he wanted to know was whether or not he could call again, if Greg was planning to cut everything about Vegas out of his life and if Nick was included in that. He wasn't sure how to ask, though, so in the end he just shook his head and hoped Greg would understand what he wasn't saying. "Keep in touch, okay?"

For a second Greg didn't answer, then Nick heard the muffled sound of a throat clearing, as though Greg had pulled the receiver away from his mouth for a moment. "Sure," he answered a moment later, but he didn't sound all that sure. "I'll talk to you later."

The line went dead before Nick could say goodbye; he wasn't sure how long he stood there listening to dead air, but when he finally made himself hang up the phone his limbs felt heavier than they had in a long time. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he had a feeling Greg hadn't been all that happy to hear from him.

~

Four days later Greg was still trying to figure out why he felt guilty about lying to Nick. He was starting to think he should get caller ID for his parents' phone just so he wouldn't have to think up another excuse to get rid of Nick the next time he called. And he knew there would be a next time, because Nick wanted to 'keep in touch'. That was something else Greg still hadn't figured out; it wasn't as though they'd ever been all that close. Sure, Nick hung out in his lab when he didn't have anything better to do, and they had a lot of things in common. But they'd never really been what Greg would call friends, at least not in the sense that they ever did anything outside of work.

There was a time when Greg assumed that was because Nick didn't want to, but now he wasn't so sure. It was one thing for Nick to call just to make sure he was okay and settling in, but keeping in touch implied that Nick wanted to hear about what he was doing now that he was back in California. And maybe it was just Nick's way of making sure the explosion hadn't ruined him, but it felt like more than that. Something about the way Nick's voice had sounded…

"Earth to Sanders."

Greg snapped out of his reverie with a start, grinning sheepishly as someone slid into the seat across from him. "Hey," he said, forcing the memory of Nick's voice to the back of his mind. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show."

"Yeah, sorry. A student showed up at the tail end of my office hours looking for the answers to the secrets of the universe. Freshmen."

Greg grinned as the other man shook his head and let out a dramatic sigh. He glanced around the crowded UCLA cafeteria, noticing for the first time since he'd sat down that the room had almost completely filled up. He had no idea how long he'd been lost in memories of Nick's phone call, but he was pretty sure it had been too long.

"Listen, Steve, thanks again. If you hadn't called…"

"Least I could do," the other man answered, waving off Greg's speech before he even got started. "What are friends for? Although I've gotta say I was a little surprised to hear you'd left Vegas. I thought you'd found paradise out in the desert."

He managed not to flinch at the mention of Vegas, but he knew Steve wasn't going to buy the excuse he'd been feeding the rest of his friends. They'd known each other since junior high, and they'd been through enough that Steve could tell when he was lying. Besides, he was starting to feel guilty for all the lies he'd told since he'd been home, and he didn't really want to lie to the guy who'd given him a heads up on the opening in UCLA's Chemistry lab.

"Vegas is great," he finally answered, hoping that part of the truth would be enough to satisfy his friend's curiosity, "but it was time for a change of scenery."

When Steve shook his head Greg knew he wasn't buying it, but he managed to keep his expression neutral as he waited for the inevitable question. "Last time we talked you seemed so jazzed about that whole CSI thing. What happened with that?"

He never thought he'd find himself wishing he hadn't told anybody about his career goals, or the fact that Grissom had started to warm up to the idea of letting him train to be a CSI. He'd only been out in the field twice – and the first time had been a disaster – but when Grissom recruited him to go undercover with that coin dealer he'd been excited enough to tell anyone who would listen. "Yeah, well, that sort of got put on hold after the accident."

He forced himself to hold Steve's gaze until the other man nodded, understanding and something a little too close to pity for Greg's comfort dawning in his expression. Then he cleared his throat and looked down long enough to pick up his coffee, and Greg swallowed a rush of relief that his friend wasn't going to pry. "Whatever, man, it's just good to have you home. So how'd the interview go?"

"Pretty good, I think," he answered, forcing a casual grin. The truth was that it had been the first interview he'd done since he was hired by Clark County, and he'd actually been a little nervous. He could do the job in his sleep, but that hadn't helped him feel any less conspicuous with five people staring at him from across a conference table. The nervousness made his hands shake almost as much as they had in the first few days after the explosion, and he'd spent most of the interview with them clenched in his lap so no one would notice. "I just turned on the patented Sanders charm."

"It's in the bag, then," Steve said, and even though Greg knew his friend was teasing him he couldn't help smiling. It was the first time he'd felt almost good about his decision to move back to L.A., even if working in a research lab wasn't exactly his dream job. It was something he was good at, anyway, and if his tremor ever got any better he might actually be able to keep this job.

His expression clouded at that thought, but he pushed it away as quickly as he could and focused on Steve again. "Thanks again, man. If you hadn't called I wouldn't have heard about it."

Steve shook his head, and when he smiled this time there was no trace of the pity Greg had seen a few minutes ago. "Like I said, that's what friends are for. And now that you're back we can hit the waves again. Just give me a call when you're ready for me to kick your ass."

Greg laughed a little shakily and looked down at his lunch, pretending to be fascinated with his barely touched sandwich so Steve wouldn't see his reaction to the challenge. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to surf again, not if he couldn't get his tremor under control. He wasn't ready to admit that, though, not even to his oldest friend.

"That would be a first," he finally answered, and when Steve laughed he managed a genuine grin.

They spent the rest of their lunch talking about surfing and all the gossip Greg had missed while he was out of town, and by the time Steve had to get back to his office Greg actually felt a little better about the whole situation. It was nice to catch up with his friends after being away for so long, and it was kind of nice to be on familiar ground again. Being around all the things he'd missed while he was in Vegas just made him miss Vegas more, though, and by the time he got home he found himself almost wishing he hadn't left without saying goodbye to anyone.

His mother was in the kitchen when he let himself into the house, and he just managed not to roll his eyes at her predictability. He was surprised she hadn't offered to drive him to the interview herself, although he had a feeling she'd had to stop herself from doing exactly that. "Hey, Mom."

"Hi, honey," she said, her expression filled with mock surprise that only reinforced his suspicion that she'd been waiting for him. "How'd it go?"

"One smile and they were eating out of my hand," Greg answered, and when she smiled he found himself grinning back in spite of himself. His parents had a right to be worried about him after what happened, and he knew his mother in particular was thrilled that he'd come home after he lost his job. But he'd been hanging around pretending not to mope for almost a month now, and he could tell they were relieved to see him making an attempt to move on with his life.

"They'd be crazy not to snap you up while they've got the chance," she answered, and he knew she meant every word of it. "You're a genius, after all."

She smiled indulgently and he had to bite back a laugh; she'd been telling him that his whole life, but somehow it was still kind of reassuring to hear her say it.

"Thanks, Mom," he said as he backed toward the hall that led to the second floor. "I'm gonna go change."

He was almost out of the kitchen before she said his name, and he stopped short and turned back to look at her. "I almost forgot, someone called for you." She scanned the counter in front of her until she found what she was looking for, then held up a slip of paper and read the message. "Someone named Nick, he said he was a friend of yours. He said he'd call back later."

It was obvious she wanted to ask just what kind of friend Nick was and how Greg knew him, but he wasn't up for that particular conversation. He wasn't even sure how to answer, because the fact was that he had no idea how to define Nick's place in his life. Technically Nick didn't even have a place in his life anymore, but apparently he hadn't gotten the hint yet. Greg forced what he hoped was a casual smile and thanked her for the message, then escaped to his room to try not to think about what exactly Nick wanted from him.

~

It hardly took them any time at all to rebuild the lab. If Nick didn't know what it looked like right after the explosion he almost wouldn't have believed that it had happened; the reconstruction was flawless, and aside from the new instruments they'd ordered to replace all the damaged stuff there was really no change at all. Which just made Greg's absence all the more conspicuous, at least in Nick's opinion. He almost wished they'd rebuilt the lab with a completely different look, so he wouldn't expect to see Greg every time he happened to glance through the glass.

He still couldn't stand Hodges, but he could barely bring himself to talk to the new girl, so he found himself bringing his evidence to Hodges for processing whenever he could. And he knew it was stupid, but it felt less disloyal to Greg for him to deal with someone he couldn't stand. If he didn't deal with Greg's replacement then he wouldn't have to blame her for taking Greg's place; he knew that was totally unfair, but he couldn't help thinking it every time he saw her.

As soon as he caught sight of the lab that empty feeling started in the pit of his stomach, and he took a deep breath and braced himself before he stepped inside. "Hey," he said, nodding when Hodges glanced over his shoulder, "you got those results yet?"

"I paged Grissom."

"Yeah, well, Grissom's out in the field, and he wants me to pick them up and bring them to him."

For a second Hodges just looked at him, then his mouth quirked into a superior little smirk and he reached for the printout Grissom had asked for. He held it out, but as soon as Nick reached for it he pulled it back out of reach. "Reduced to running errands for the boss? That hurts."

Nick scowled and reached for the report again, but Hodges managed to step backwards out of his reach. "It was just a joke, no need to get so testy. So tell me," he said, smiling enigmatically at Nick's dark expression, "why have you been so…out of sorts lately? It wouldn't have anything to do with the unceremonious departure of a certain lab tech, would it?"

"Just give me the damn report," Nick snapped before he could stop himself. He knew as soon as he said it that it was a mistake, and when Hodges' eyes flashed he swallowed a frustrated groan and reached for the paper again, yanking it out of Hodges' grip. He turned on his heel before Hodges could say anything else, forcing himself not to look back at the other man's smug expression.

Maybe it was time to rethink his strategy of avoiding Greg's replacement, especially if it was making the rest of the night shift suspicious. It was bad enough he hadn't been able to shake his mood for the past few weeks, but if Hodges had noticed...he shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh, digging his keys out of his pocket as he reached the parking lot and headed for his truck.

It shouldn't matter what Hodges or anybody else thought, but that didn't make Nick comfortable with the idea that people were talking about him. He hadn't thought his mood was all that noticeable, but Catherine had called him on it, and he'd caught both Sara and Warrick giving him weird looks a few times over the past couple weeks. At the time he'd told himself it was just his imagination, but now he wasn't so sure.

When he reached the crime scene he parked and took a deep breath, taking a few seconds to pull himself together before he went inside. He knew he needed to get this under control, to put it behind him so he could move on with his life. Calling Greg and hearing that he was okay should have done the trick, but when it didn't Nick had found himself calling again. That was less than twelve hours ago, and when he'd gotten Greg's mother on the phone he'd told himself he was being ridiculous. If Greg wanted to talk he'd call back; he knew how to reach Nick, even if he hadn't written down Nick's home number.

So he hadn't let himself call again before work, and he told himself it was for the best. Only he'd spent the entire shift thinking about Greg, wondering where he'd been when Nick called and trying to tell himself he wasn't jealous of the new people in Greg's life. He didn't want to be jealous; he wanted to be happy for Greg – he wanted Greg to be happy – but he wanted to be a part of what made Greg happy.

More than that, he wanted Greg to want Nick back in his life, even if it was just a phone call every once in awhile. If he was honest with himself Nick had to admit that he wanted a lot more than phone calls, but he'd take whatever he could get. Only Greg wasn't even calling, and Nick was starting to get the feeling he wasn't going to. He tried to tell himself that Grissom was right, that he just needed some time and as soon as he got over being fired he'd come around. Nick had heard his voice on the phone, though, and it didn't sound to him like Greg was bouncing back.

He didn't think about it before he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and before he could talk himself out of it he'd already dialed Greg's number. It was way too early to be calling, but the sun was up so hopefully he at least wouldn't wake Greg's parents. He held his breath while the phone rang, and when it connected and he heard Greg's voice on the other end of the line he had to remind himself how to speak.

"Hey. It's Nick." There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and this time Nick didn't try to tell himself it was just a bad connection. He swallowed a sigh and told himself he should have expected it, that Greg probably didn't want to think about anything that reminded him of Vegas, and that included Nick. "Listen, I know it's early…"

"It's seven o'clock in the morning," Greg said, and Nick found himself smiling in spite of the sudden rush of nerves in his stomach.

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't wake anybody, did I?"

"No, my folks are gone already," Greg answered. "Why are you calling so early?"

"I was just thinking about you," Nick said, and God, could he sound any more pathetic? As soon as the words escaped his lips he blushed hot and dark, and he was thankful that at least Greg couldn't see him. "I mean I was just wondering...you know, how your interview went."

Another pause, but before Nick could panic and hang up Greg started talking again. "It went okay. I haven't heard anything yet."

"Yeah? So where's this great job you left Vegas for?"

"I didn't…UCLA," Greg answered abruptly, and Nick could have kicked himself for being such an idiot. "There's an opening in the research lab."

"Look, G, I didn't mean…"

"Forget it," Greg interrupted, the dismissal managing to make Nick feel even worse somehow. "Things just worked out the way they worked out."

And he knew it was true, but that didn't make it any easier to live with. "What about UNLV? Just because you're not working at the lab anymore doesn't mean you had to leave Vegas."

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and Nick ignored the shudder that ran down his spine as he pictured Greg with the phone pressed to his ear and his eyes closed. "Look, it's done. You can't fix this, Nick. You can't fix everything."

"I…that's not what I meant." He wasn't sure what Greg thought he wanted to fix exactly; there was a part of him that wished he could make this all go away, that they could go back to before the explosion so he could make sure Greg was safe. He knew that wasn't going to happen, though, and Greg had to know he didn't really think it could. "I'm just saying it's not too late to change your mind. People do it all the time."

Another long pause, and when Greg spoke again his voice sounded as flat as it had the last time Nick talked to him. "I have to go."

"Greg, wait," Nick said, but by the time he got the words out the line was already dead. He let out a frustrated sigh and slammed the phone shut, tossing it on the passenger seat and reaching up to run a hand over his face.

He started when someone knocked on the window of the truck, and when he looked up he found Grissom frowning at him. Too late he remembered that he was supposed to be delivering evidence, and he pushed his conversation with Greg to the back of his mind as he reached for the report and climbed out of the truck. "Looks like all the DNA we found was the vic's," Nick said as he handed the results to the other man. "You still need me to take pictures?"

Grissom shook his head and looked down at the DNA results, scanning the page before he looked up at Nick again. "Warrick took care of that," he finally answered, frowning at Nick for another moment before he continued. "You should go home."

"I thought we were putting in overtime on this one," Nick said, frowning as he glanced at his watch. Their shift was almost over, but it was a pretty big case and he'd assumed when Grissom called him back out to the scene that they were working all day.

"Go home, Nick. Get some rest," Grissom answered, and when he turned and headed back to the scene Nick knew he was being dismissed.

"I'm fine," Nick called after him, but Grissom didn't even look back. And this was just perfect; not only had he managed to piss off Greg, but now Grissom didn't even think he could do his job.

~

Greg wasn't surprised when the phone rang again half an hour later. He knew it was Nick before he even picked up, and for a few seconds he thought about just letting it ring. Ignoring Nick hadn't made him go away yet, though, and he knew if he didn't pick up the phone that Nick would just keep calling until he did. He let out a heavy sigh and picked up the cordless extension just before the machine picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey. Look, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to…"

"Yeah, I know," Greg interrupted. He sank onto the couch in his parents' living room and closed his eyes for a second, picturing Nick in his own living room back in Vegas. The only reason Greg knew what it looked like was because he'd seen the crime scene photos from when Nick's stalker attacked him, and he had no idea if it still looked the same. He'd never even been inside Nick's house, and that was part of the reason he couldn't figure out what Nick wanted from him. "Look, what's this about?"

"What do you mean?" Nick sounded genuinely confused, and for the first time Greg started to wonder if maybe Nick didn't even know why he kept calling. It wouldn't be all that surprising, really; Nick never seemed to think about why it was so important to him to fix whatever was wrong around him, it was just something he did.

"I mean why do you keep calling me?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and he knew Nick was thinking hard about his answer. He'd never really been much for the direct approach; if he was they probably would have had this conversation a long time ago, but he was starting to think it was the only thing that would work with Nick.

"We're friends, right?" Nick finally answered, and Greg wanted to laugh because even Nick didn't really sound sure. The truth was that they weren't really friends, not the kind that stayed in touch long distance, anyway. They were just two guys who used to work together, and if Nick wanted to be friends he was sure as hell getting a late start. "It's not the same around here without you."

That was a little closer to the truth, and Greg's heart skipped a beat in spite of his resolve not to let Nick get to him. He'd wondered for a long time what it would be like to hear that low, intimate tone directed at him; if he was still back in Vegas he'd probably be throwing himself at Nick right now, but he wasn't and it was too late to do anything about it. And it just figured that it would take him leaving Vegas for Nick to figure out what they'd been doing all this time. If he could get his hands on Nick he'd hit him for being such an idiot – either that or kiss him until neither of them could remember why they'd waited so long.

He couldn't do either, though, and he knew it was his own fault. If he'd hung around Vegas instead of running straight back home…but he couldn't plan his life around Nick's indecision, and it wasn't like Nick had ever said anything. He still hadn't, not really, so Greg had no idea if he was just hearing what he wanted to hear or if Nick really did want him.

"Just tell Grissom when he hires a new tech to look for someone with a sparkling personality and keen fashion sense. I'm irreplaceable, of course, but he can try."

Nick cleared his throat and Greg could almost picture the other man shuffling uncomfortably on the other end of the line. "They…uh…they already hired somebody. I haven't really talked to her."

He told himself he shouldn't be surprised. Almost a month had passed since he left, after all, and they couldn't just wait around on the off chance he made a miraculous recovery. That was the whole reason Grissom had let him go in the first place. "Yeah?" he said, swallowing hard when his voice wavered. "Is she cute?"

"She's not you."

Greg had no idea what that meant; he knew what he wanted it to mean, or at least what he would have wanted it to mean a month ago. But he'd known Nick for long enough to wonder if the other man was just trying to be nice, to spare Greg's feelings by pretending Greg really was irreplaceable. "I am pretty cute," he answered with all the bravado he could muster. "It must suck having to be compared to me."

"Trust me, there's no comparison," Nick said, and this time Greg was almost sure Nick was flirting with him. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time Greg hadn't been able to write it off as a joke. He'd never been sure whether or not Nick meant it when he flirted – sometimes he didn't even think Nick knew – but there was something about his voice this time that told Greg he knew exactly what he was doing. He told himself it was just because he couldn't see Nick's easy grin or that twinkle in his eye that always made Greg wonder if Nick was teasing him. He could picture it, though, and the image sent a shiver up his spine.

"So how are your hands?" Nick asked, and Greg flushed when he realized that he'd just been sitting there listening to Nick breathe.

"Well I've been told they're pretty good, but I don't like to brag."

Nick's laugh made him weak in the knees; it always had, but it was even more intense when it was right in his ear. And it was easy to flirt with him, to fall back on jokes so he wouldn't have to think about what they were doing. Only Nick's voice was making him think about things he'd never thought he could have, and now that he knew he could have had them he found himself wishing he'd never left Vegas in the first place.

"I'm serious. Are you…you know, has it gotten any better?"

"A little." It wasn't a lie; the doctors kept saying it was probably just a stress reaction, and as soon as he learned to relax it would go away completely. Only he hadn't figured out how to relax yet, and the sound of Nick's voice wasn't doing much for his nerves. "I'm thinking I can make it work for me. I could save the lab a lot of money on an oscillator."

"Very funny."

Greg rolled his eyes at the admonishment in Nick's voice, but there was a small part of him that had to admit it was nice that Nick cared. "I'm fine. It'll either go away or it won't. I've seen all the specialists and they all say the same thing."

Nick sighed on the other end of the line, and Greg wasn't sure whether to be flattered that he cared or annoyed that Nick thought he was taking Greg's condition more seriously than Greg was. He was the one who had to live with it; Nick got to keep his job and live his life, and the only thing that had changed for him was that Greg wasn't around to entertain him anymore.

"It'll get better," Nick said, and he sounded so determined that Greg had to fight back a laugh. "And when it does you don't have to stay in a lab. There's the CSI training program…"

"Nick," Greg interrupted, letting out a heavy sigh before he continued. "Just let it go, okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Nick paused and just for a second Greg closed his eyes, letting himself picture the man on the other end of the line as he listened to Nick breathe. And this was a bad idea, because there was a part of him that wanted to believe Nick when he said it wasn't too late to change his mind. When Nick spoke again his voice was a little strained, and Greg had to swallow hard against the sudden lump in his throat. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

He wanted to ask what exactly Nick was trying to do, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. He was pretty sure he already knew what it was, and he was scared of what he'd do if Nick said it out loud. California was his home; it was where he came from, and he liked it here. He'd liked Vegas too, but if he was honest with himself he'd have to admit the thing he missed the most was Nick. There was no way he could go back there just on the off chance that something would happen between them; if it didn't – or worse, if it did and then didn't work out – he'd be right where he was after the explosion. Only it would be even worse, because he wouldn't even have the potential.

"It doesn't really matter anymore," he finally answered, but his throat was still tight and it was a battle to push the words out.

"It matters."

Something about the way Nick said it actually made Greg blush, and he was glad suddenly that the other man couldn't see him. Nick wasn't really all that good at spelling out what he wanted, but Greg was pretty good at reading between the lines. And he was pretty sure this was a bad idea; he knew he should end it before it got started, but he knew he wouldn't.

"So are you going to keep calling here or what?"

A soft laugh right up against his ear made his pulse race, and when he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Nick's breath brushing his skin. "Unless you tell me not to."

He knew exactly what he should say. If he told Nick not to call anymore Nick would stop; it was for the best, because nothing could happen between them. Even if it did, Nick still lived in Vegas and Greg's life was here now. It could never work, and if they tried to make it work they'd both end up disappointed. He should say no right now, make it clear to Nick that it was too late for whatever they might have had.

"It's a free country," he heard himself say instead, his heart sinking as soon as the words escaped his lips. Then Nick laughed and Greg had to fight back a groan; he hadn't realized how much he missed that sound until he heard it again, and now that he had he was pretty sure it was going to kill him.

~

For the first time since Greg left, Nick wasn't dreading the night shift. He still thought of Greg every time he walked past the lab, and he still wasn't that crazy about having to deal with Greg's replacement, but now when he thought about Greg he remembered their last conversation and the begrudging way Greg had said 'it's a free country'. Every time he thought of it he caught himself grinning; it was the first sign he'd gotten that Greg really did want to hear from him, and he wasn't above hoping that meant there would be more.

Maybe Greg would even loosen up on the subject of moving back to Vegas after awhile, but even if he didn't at least he hadn't cut Nick out of his life. That was something, and Nick couldn't help hoping it meant Greg wanted their friendship to become something more. Granted, it was a little more difficult now that they didn't live in the same state, but as far as Nick was concerned it was worth whatever obstacles they had to work around. With any luck Greg's move was only temporary, and as soon as Nick talked him into coming home they could move forward.

He was still grinning when he reached the break room, but when he saw Catherine and Sara sitting at the table he forced his features back to a neutral expression. "Hey," he said as he crossed the room and opened the fridge.

"Hey yourself," Catherine answered, turning in her chair to watch him as he pulled a burrito out of the freezer and put it in the microwave. "You're in a good mood."

Nick shrugged and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best not to smirk. "Something wrong with that?"

"After the way you've been moping around here lately, yeah," Catherine answered. "Don't tell me Greg's back."

Any urge to smirk disappeared as soon as she said Greg's name, and he bit back a flash of anger and turned away from her. It wasn't so much that he blamed her for being curious, but hearing Catherine say Greg's name just reminded Nick of why Greg wasn't around in the first place. He didn't want to hold her responsible; if he could he'd take all the blame for what happened, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't convince himself that it wasn't her fault.

Maybe if he'd done something differently he could have protected Greg – maybe if he'd just told Greg how he felt he wouldn't have been in the lab that day. Just one tiny difference and everything could have turned out okay, but there was also the chance that one tiny difference and Greg would have ended up dead. He shuddered at the thought and pulled the microwave open, not bothering to check his dinner to make sure it was heated. He wasn't hungry anymore; in fact, the thought of eating made his stomach turn.

"No," he finally answered, forcing himself to turn and face the two women watching him, "Greg's not back."

"But you've talked to him."

"Wait," Sara interrupted, her gaze shifting from Nick to Catherine and back again, "you and Greg? I thought that was a joke."

"He's a friend." He'd told himself that so many times over the past few years that it was almost automatic, but he'd never believed it and now he wasn't sure why he'd been trying so hard to convince himself it was true. He wanted a lot more from Greg than just friendship, and now that Greg was gone it didn't really matter who knew.

"How's he doing?" Catherine asked, and Nick had to bite back the urge to tell her it was none of her business. She didn't look particularly surprised to hear that Nick had talked to Greg, and he wondered all over again if Grissom had told her anything. Then again, the whole night shift seemed to be talking about him and Greg, so chances were that Grissom hadn't needed to say anything.

"He's okay," Nick said. "He applied for an opening at UCLA."

"So he's not coming back."

"Doesn't look that way," Nick answered, working hard to keep the anger out of his voice. It wasn't her fault; she hadn't asked Greg to pack up and leave without so much as a goodbye, and he knew if it was up to her Greg would still be in Las Vegas. Catherine nodded and just for a second Nick could see the regret in her eyes; it made him feel a little better, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

"Well tell him I said hi," she said as she stood up, pushing her chair in and nodding at Sara. "You ready to go see Doc?"

When Nick glanced at Sara she was still staring open-mouthed at him, but as soon as he caught her eye she snapped her jaw shut and stood up. "Yeah," she said, taking a few steps toward the door before she glanced at Nick again. It was hard not to laugh at her confused expression, but before he lost his resolve Catherine grabbed her by the arm and pushed her out of the break room.

He waited until he was alone to think about what he'd just done; it wasn't really that big a deal, especially not considering Grissom already knew. Besides, at least half the night shift probably believed it already, so confirming the rumor about him and Greg wasn't going to hurt him. Unless Sara or Warrick had a problem with it the truth really wouldn't make any difference at all, and if they did…

They were his friends and he knew he should care what they thought, and maybe a few months ago he would have. Maybe that was part of the reason he'd never done anything about his attraction to Greg when he had the chance, but now that he had another chance he couldn't make himself care what anybody else thought about it. He hadn't felt like this about anyone in…well, ever, and he didn't want to lose it just because some of his friends might not like it.

Besides, there wasn't anything to tell – not yet, anyway – and he didn't want to screw this thing up by getting ahead of himself. He couldn't stop people from talking, but he didn't have to give them any fuel for the fire. Whatever happened between him and Greg was between them, and he'd deal with telling his family and friends when he figured out a way to get Greg back in his life full time.

Part 02