Of Nightmares and Pinkie-Swears, a CSI: Nick-Centric Fic

Yay, an update!!!!

Good chapter.

Overgrown Boy Scout! Ok, I would've smacked Catherine. Though I can understand her being upset that Nick didn't talk to her about it.

But I can more understand Nick's frustation at the whole thing. He is such a good guy and all he's being accused of is being a bad guy.

I am glad, though, that he and Catherine made up. I knew she'd be the perfect person to help him with Cassie's room. I could see Lindsey being excited for Uncle Nick (yes, I always thought she called all the guys Uncle, I mean my best friend's kids call me Aunt) and give him a lesson or two about girls.

Rick and Sara teasing him, just love it. Such "sibling" love!

You're going to update real soon, right? Please?

I'm just loving this story!!
 
excellent update Jacqui Oh what fun Catherine and Lindsey will have with Cassie's room and Nick's credit card :)
 
Oooooo....I loved Nick's rant at Catherine. It was perfect and realistic and exactly what he should have said.

But...but...he's going on another "date" soon, right?? :D
 
It's far too late for a cheeky comment, but here's an update! Thanks for your ongoing support - you know it feeds my muse - and I hope you enjoy!

(By the way, I know I said I wouldn't make this a habit, but it's another double. The whole thing won't fit and I can't cut it.)

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There was a sticky note affixed to Elizabeth’s door when she returned home on Friday evening.

“Me and my wine are at my house.”

Smiling, she removed the note and went inside to deposit her purse and briefcase. She checked Ginger’s water bowl and let her outside for a few moments while she went through her mail, and as soon as the big dog showed the slightest inkling of coming inside, she opened the patio door, pet her on the head, and left again.

Nick already had a come-hither smirk on his face when he answered the door. “Love the power suit,” he commented when he saw her, a come-hither smirk already spread across his face.

“It’s my most powerful,” she replied, smoothing the front of her black pin-striped suit.

He invited her in and kissed her as he closed the door in her wake. “How was your day?” he asked solicitously.

“It was a day,” she replied. “Two juries came in today and we got a rape conviction, but nothing on the double homicide in Henderson. Disappointing.”

It was a lot more than disappointing, and no one knew that better than Nick. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead, and then took her hand to lead her into the house.

“Me, too.” The warmth of his hand holding hers went a long way to soothe her wounds, however, and with such a balm applied, she was distracted from her frustration. “It looks good in here,” she commented as they walked through the house, squeezing his hand. “You’re getting settled.”

“Yeah . . . you could almost call me domesticated.”

She laughed as they walked into the kitchen, where a spicy-sweet aroma wafted to her nose. “Are you cooking?”

He smirked. “Well, you like my Texan drawl,” he replied, “so I figured you might like some Texan food.”

Elizabeth was delighted, her feelings of failure forgotten, at least for a while. “You can cook!”

“Now, don’t get your hopes up, little lady – my mama taught me how to make brownies and chili and that’s about as good as it gets.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Has your accent gotten thicker?” she teased.

He blushed a little. “It might’ve, actually,” he admitted. “I been talkin’ to Audra off and on all day.”

Elizabeth’s body was already beginning to relax. “So you made me chili?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did, and you won’t find a more authentic bowl of red outside of Texas. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Bobby Dawson. He fixes the Christmas gift exchange every year so I get him, and all he ever wants is a pot of this right here.” He pointed proudly at the pot on his stove.

She chuckled at him, walking over to the stove to lift the lid and took a deep breath. “It looks and smells fantastic.” Reaching for the spoon that rested between the burners, she gave the pot a stir. “There’s no beans.”

“No self-respecting Texan puts beans in his chili, Elizabeth,” he said, feigning offense.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, putting the lid back on the pot. “Who’s Bobby Dawson?”

“He works in Ballistics,” replied Nick. “Also a Texan . . . nice guy.” He turned to face her, leaning a hip against the stove; she did the same, and they gazed at each other, happy to be in one another’s company again. “So . . . you hungry?”

Her eyes bright, she nodded. “Yeah.” Then she leaned forward and curled a hand around the back of Nick’s neck, guiding her lips up to his for a slow, gentle kiss. He was smiling when she pulled back, and she grazed his ear with the tip of her index finger. “I wasn’t expecting dinner.”

“You kiss me like that again and we might just skip it,” he replied.

She chuckled. “Well, I hate to disappoint, but if that’s the case I won’t be kissing you like that again – not until after we eat. I’m starving.”

“Well then let’s eat, for God’s sake,” he said, taking the pot off the stove and bringing it to the dining room. She followed and allowed him to charm her by pulling her chair out for her. She sat down to a handsomely set table, and he held out his hand for her bowl.

She handed it to him with a smile. “Did you make the tea, too?” she asked, eyeing the tumbler filled with ice and tea, and a slice of lemon.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied as he set the now-full bowl in front of her, and then moved to fill his own bowl. “Corn bread’s out of a box, though.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely.” She waited until he sat down and had spread his napkin on his lap. “If I burn my tongue on this, will you kiss it better?”

“I’ll kiss it even if you don’t get burned,” he replied.

She picked up her spoon and dipped it into her bowl, taking a cautious first sample of Nick’s culinary abilities. “It’s not that spicy,” she noted, pleased, when she had swallowed her first bite.

“I pulled back a bit on the habaneras,” he said. “I didn’t want to give you heartburn – I got plans for you later on.”

She took another bite, quirking an eyebrow as she chewed. “Really?” she asked. “What kind of plans?”

“Overdue plans,” he replied cheekily.

Elizabeth smiled and felt her cheeks flush. “It’s really good, Nicky – I like it.”

“Thank you,” he replied, sipping his tea.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Better than usual,” he replied. “In fact, I think I slept a little too long. And I got to talk to Cassie about an hour ago; she sounded much better.”

“She must’ve slept well, too.”

“Yeah, I think she did.” He looked up from his bowl to meet her eyes. “Thank you.”

She creased her brow. “For what?”

“She got to settle down and get a good night’s rest because of you – because of the outcome of the hearing. That was all you, Miss Halles.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know . . . you were awfully smooth in there yourself.”

“But I wouldn’t have been in there at all if it hadn’t been for you.” His gaze across the table was intense.

She blushed a little, looking down at her bowl. “Well . . . I like you. And I am utterly smitten with Cassie – she reminds me a lot of me, only she’s much sweeter.”

“You’re both sweet,” he replied between bites of chili. “It’s just harder to find on you.”

“That’s not very nice!” she replied, laughing. He leaned toward her to beg a kiss, his smirk telling her he was teasing. She tasted chili on his lips and licked her own when she sat back in her own chair. “Do you talk to Cassie every day?”

“I do,” he replied with a nod. “Today she begged me to tell her about last night.”

“I hope you left out the parts where your hands were up my dress.”

“Of course I did,” he replied. “I never kiss and tell.”

She showed her pretty white teeth when she smiled at him. “That was more than kissing.”

“Okay. I never feel up and tell, either. I’m a gentleman.”

“Good news for me,” she said. “What did you tell her?”

“I said that we held hands a lot, and that you kissed me. On the lips. Although, she’s adamantly opposed to the idea of French kissing, so as far as she’s aware there was none of that.”

“Let’s keep her adamantly opposed to that for as long as possible,” she said.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, turning to his chili and liking the sound of her collective “let’s.” “She needs to just be a kid a while longer.”

Elizabeth took a bit of her cornbread and chewed thoughtfully. “So . . . when you get her, you know, when she actually moves in, what are you going to do with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean before school, after school, at night, when you’re working . . . where’s she gonna go?”

He smiled. “That’s what I’ve been talking to Audra about. She’s got five kids and she’s filling me in on some of the particulars of this parenting business. She’s helping me find a nanny.”

“Nannies do overnights?”

“They do in Las Vegas. I’ve found a couple to talk to so far. It’s not a terribly difficult position, all she’d have to do is be here, get Cassie up and ready for school, and maybe take her to school if I’m running late.” He took a bit of his chili and looked up at Elizabeth, chewing. “This is good,” he said, pointing at his empty bowl with his spoon. “I am a chili god.”

She laughed at him, but agreed. “Although girl cannot live on chili alone. What else can you cook?”

“I can cook anything, as long as I can throw it on the grill,” he replied, sitting back and sipping his tea.

“Well, it’s a very healthy, if not monotonous way to cook,” she said.

“Audra says I need to broaden my horizons a little, but frankly I think Cassie will find my cooking an improvement over Emily’s.”

She sat back, also finished, and sipped her tea. “I can only take your word for it, but I’m sure she’ll love your chili. She’ll have to, won’t she? She’ll be an adopted Texan – isn’t it Texas law that you have to like beanless chili?”

He chuckled. “It might be,” he replied.

“I give it a month,” she said warmly, admiring his grin with a smile. “You’ll have your approval.”

He shook his head. “I hate to be the pessimist – it’s foreign territory for me – but I’m not going to get my hopes up. I’m just gonna take it day by day . . . and as long as I get to see or talk to her every day, I’ll make it work.”

“A month,” she repeated. “I’d put money on it.”

“Why don’t we? Let’s make it interesting.”

She thought a moment, and then agreed. “All right. If you get your approval within four weeks, you take me shoe-shopping.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “And when four weeks passes and we get nothin’ from DFS, you buy me a new grill.”

“Deal,” she said brightly, and they clinked tea glasses to seal their agreement. When he set his glass back on the table, she did the same. “Thanks for dinner.”

His eyes crinkled, and he took her hand in his to kiss the knuckles. “My pleasure.”

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(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson
 
She offered to help him clean up and took her bowl and glass into the kitchen. Since Nick had cleaned up as much as possible before she arrived it took little time, and within a few moments she was wiping down the kitchen counter. Nick came up behind her as she worked and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his lips into the back of her neck. “Mmm . . . dessert.”

She chuckled, turning around to kiss him properly. She tossed the washcloth across the kitchen and into the sink and then draped her arms around his shoulders. “Sweet,” she replied.

“Wine?” he offered.

“Please.”

He kissed her gently and stepped back. “I’ll bring it to you in the living room.”

As he busied himself in the kitchen with the corkscrew and wineglasses she wandered into the living room. It was still sparsely dotted with furniture, but over time that would change. On the walls were photos of people she assumed were his family, and Cassie’s school picture. It warmed Elizabeth’s heart that Nick thought to put up Cassie’s photo in his living room, and she smiled.

“She hates that picture,” said Nick from behind her.

Elizabeth turned around to see Nick with a filled wine glass in each hand a smile on his face. He held out one of the glasses.

She walked forward and accepted it, sitting down on the couch. “Why does she hate it?”

“She thinks she looks like a dork,” he replied, taking a seat on the chair-and-a-half that was diagonal to the couch. He took a sip of his wine and then draped his arm across the back of the chair, crooking his index finger at her. She lifted a brow, sipping her own wine, and rather pointedly stayed put.

He rounded out his eyes and lowered his chin. “Please?”

She laughed. “Oh, God – not the puppy-dog eyes!”

“You loooove the puppy-dog eyes . . . give in to the puppy-dog eyes . . . .”

“Oh, fine,” she sighed in resignation with all the drama she could muster. She moved to the seat next to him, turning her body toward him. He kissed her as a reward. She chuckled at him and relaxed into the softness of the chair, noticing the spicy scent of his cologne for the first time that night. They were quiet for a moment, until Nick took her hand and kissed it. Then he broached the subject he had more or less been dreading all night, reasoning that if he just went for it, it’d be less painful – like ripping a band-aid off all at once. “So . . . about those war wounds.”

“Yes . . . the war wounds.” She shrugged a little, looking away to search for the right thing to say about it. “Nothing terribly complicated or earth-shattering,” she replied, and then looked back up at him. “Michael – my married gentleman-friend – never slept with me. He always went home to his wife, no matter how many times I asked him if just this one time he could stay.”

Nick shook his head. “This man is a fool,” he said.

I was a fool,” replied Elizabeth, smiling sadly. “I willfully ignored the rather obvious evidence that he was deceiving both me and his wife because I loved him. Once I realized why he never stayed – because his wife didn’t know about me, because she wasn’t also cheating – I was heartbroken and angry and I told his wife what was going on.”

Nick cringed. “Do you know how many crime scenes I’ve worked where that kind of thing was going on right before something like a butcher knife appeared?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I do. I do now, anyway. But at the time I was just trying to get back at him. A couple of days later he came over.” She looked away to chuckle. “He wanted one more time . . . you know? And like the silly little girl I was at the time, I agreed, as long as he said he’d stay the night. I wanted just one time to fall asleep in his arms and wake up the next morning to see his face. And he said he’d do it – he said he’d stay.” She paused again, sipping her wine. “I almost believed him.”

“But you kicked him out.”

“Yes, I did. He broke my heart, he lied to me, and he ruined me for anyone else.” She let out a sigh. “Little bastard.”

“Do you still hate him?”

“No,” she replied brightly. “I don’t. I don’t feel anything for him.”

Smiling slightly, Nick nodded. “That’s good,” he replied.

She shrugged. “He’s not worth my emotion.” She sipped her wine again. “Now, Mr. Stokes . . . I showed you mine; time to show me yours.”

He nodded in acquiescence, knowing this moment had been coming. “My wounds have nothing to do with a woman.”

“No?” she asked. “You’ve never been in love?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replied. “I just don’t have any scars from my first love.”

“But you said you had war wounds,” she prodded gently.

“I do.” He sipped his own wine, looking away for a moment, and then back at her. “Did you ever see . . . I mean, I know it was on the news . . . about two years ago, I was . . . kidnapped . . . buried in a box . . . did you know about that?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes,” she replied. “I kept waiting for that case to cross my desk. It was earmarked for me. I had Ecklie keep me updated . . . we kept the television on in the office. We were all afraid for you.” She squeezed his hand.

“I never knew that.”

She shrugged. “All my guys like all your guys,” she said. “We do different jobs, but we work toward the same end.”

He smiled, nodding. “We do.” He paused to take a sip again, and then continued. “It’s been a struggle to get over that,” he continued, the words coming out in a rush. “I . . . I still have . . . trouble, sometimes.”

“Nightmares?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“I hate that word,” he said forcefully, looking away. “Makes me feel like such a child.” Elizabeth waited patiently for him to look at her again, and when he did, he added, “I have trouble sleeping.”

She inched closer to him on the couch. “So my need to have you sleep next to me conflicts with your need to sleep alone.”

“It would appear so,” he said.

“So . . . my inner therapist – and trust me, Nicky, I’ve seen enough of them as an adult to have one – tells me that this is a matter of trust. For you, the question is: Do you trust me enough to know that if you should happen to have a nightmare, I won’t think any less of you? For me, the question is: Do I trust you enough to know that you want to sleep next to me, even if you find that you can’t?”

His eyes held hers for a long moment. “Do you, Lizzy?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

“Yes,” she replied. “Do you trust me, Nick?”

He leaned over and kissed her wine-stained lips gently. “Yes.” Then he smiled and straightened his back, and held up his right pinkie.

She eyed it, amused. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Pinkie swear,” he replied.

She laughed. “Pinkie swear? Really? You want me to pinkie swear that I trust you?”

“Yes,” he replied, still smiling but utterly serious. “A pinkie swear is a sacred promise, Lizzy – don’t laugh. Cassie and I started out with a pinkie-swear, too. I promised I’d always be honest with her.”

She let out a chuckle, but recognized that this was no joke for Nick. She lifted her own pinkie and linked it with his. “Okay, Nicky,” she replied, biting her lip. “I pinkie swear . . . I trust you. Whatever happens tonight, tomorrow morning I’m still with you.”

“I believe you,” he replied, pulling his pinkie back as she did the same. Then he took her wine glass from her and set it and his own down on the coffee table. “Now kiss me.”

“Oh – is that how this works with you?” she questioned. “You just hand out orders?”

“Hey, I have puppy-dog eyes and I’m not afraid to use them.”

She laughed and leaned in to do his bidding. He wrapped her in his arms and reached up into her hair to release the clip that held it in a French roll. It fell around her shoulders and he collected it in his hands, running his fingers through her hair, his mouth devouring her sweetness. It didn’t take him long to get lost and he found himself pulling her ever closer. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, pausing to swallow and control his breathing before he asked in a small voice, “Do you want to stay?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Why do you look so nervous?” asked Nick, tilting his head.

“I’m not a young woman anymore,” she said quietly. “I’m over forty. My body doesn’t look like it used to look . . . I’m . . . .”

“Beautiful,” he said, running his index finger across her bottom lip. “Lizzy, you’re beautiful, and youth’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not a young man anymore, either.”

She smiled. “I wish I had spent my youth with you instead of with law books.”

“Make up for it,” he whispered, his lips grazing hers, kissing to punctuate his request. “Make up for it . . . with me . . . now.”

Wordlessly, she put her hand on his strong chin to keep him with her as she laid back on the chair. She pressed hot kisses to his forehead and chin and then claimed his mouth with a passion so raw it caught Nick off-guard and any lingering rational thought was erased from his mind. His hands found her hips and slowly roamed upward, disheartened by the amount of clothing he found.

“Your power suit's hot, Lizzy, but it’s gettin’ in my way.”

“No one’s stopping you from taking it off, Nicky.”

With a quirked eyebrow he sat her up and slid her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it carelessly onto the coffee table. As he worked on the buttons of her vest he reclaimed her mouth, and her arms slipped up his arms to pull his long-sleeved shirt up his back and over his head. She threw it over the side of the chair they shared and smiled.

“You need to catch up,” she teased, pushing him backward.

He wanted to protest, but her mouth and hands on his chest were too distracting. “Lizzzeeee . . .” was all he could make himself say.

For her part, Elizabeth was having trouble focusing and wished she weren’t wearing so many layers when Nick’s nicely-formed torso was underneath her. Realizing that she was still wearing her glasses, she removed them and moved to set them down on the coffee table.

Nick took this opportunity to take to his feet and pulled her up with him. “Why’d you have to wear so many clothes, Lizzy?” he complained, finally winning his wrestling match with the last button on her vest.

She shrugged out of the offending garment as she started in on his belt buckle. “Clothes have always served me well in the past,” she mumbled. “What is with you Texans and these huge belt buckles?”

A low, soft chuckle came from his throat and he put his hands on top of hers. “Don’t hate the buckle, Lizzy.” He helped her undo it, and then his hands found her shirt and his lips found hers again, aided by her arms around his neck. As he slowly unbuttoned her blouse he moved his mouth from her mouth to her chin, and then in a slow line down the middle of her throat. When the last button was freed he pushed the blouse off of Elizabeth’s shoulders and let it slide down her arms to the floor. Her skirt was next to it in a matter of seconds; all he had to do was unzip it and run the tips of his fingers up her spine, which caused her to suck in her breath and allow the skirt to slide off her hips with a little help from his free hand.

He stepped back to look at her and couldn’t help a smirk. “The district attorney has butterflies on her underwear.”

“Hey, you know what? You don’t like it, then take those off, too, Stokes.”

He gazed at her a moment, struck by the look in her eyes and the heightened color in her cheeks, before he stepped forward again to feather one hand into her hair and use the other to pull her pelvis against his. When she wrapped her arms around him again, a feeling of such unexpected comfort and desire enveloped him that he picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, without a thought in his head of what would happen when he fell asleep. No matter how he woke up – screaming, sweating, or otherwise – she would be there, and as long as she was, very little else mattered.

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(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson
 
Wow, that was a good chapter.

So where did you find the no self-respecting Texan uses beans in their chili. Thank goodness, because I wouldn't want beans either.

I enjoyed the little banter between them and telling each other some of their secrets. They really trust each other.

Love the bet and I can't wait to see who will win. Oh and those puppy dog eyes, yup, they do it to me too and add that smile, I'd do anything he wanted. :devil: Love Nick and the "I have puppy dog eyes and I know how to use them."

And another pinkie swear. Then they get busy and he's cracking me up with all her clothes. It's like patience Nicky, you'll get there. :lol:

Great chapter, Jacqui. You're going to update soon, right? ;)

Well, I must go and take a cold shower now. :)
 
Excellent and hot update Jacqui :) I loved the pinkie swear between Nick and Lizzy :) and Nick you can be honest with Cassie to a point. She doesn't need to know all :D

Oh and a new grill vs shoe shopping :lol: This could be an expensive bet when the winner comes to claim the prize. And who will the winner be??

Leaves out some double fudge brownies :)
 
Great chapter. I loved the bet and the pinkie swear. And the chili without beans. haha... that's how my dad eats it. :lol:
 
Hello, ladies! :D

Contained in this post is one of the first scenes I ever wrote for this story, about three years ago, so it's a little odd to actually see it posted. It's like one of my kids! (OK, not really.) Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

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With the usual dread in the pit of his stomach, Nick pulled his truck into a parking spot in the municipal ramp adjacent to the courthouse. He had been called to testify for the prosecution in a case which he had worked some time ago involving a battered woman. While he recognized the necessity of his appearance at trial, it was last on his list of things he liked about his job. The prosecuting attorney’s questions he could always handle – they were, for the most part, reasonable and to the point, no matter who he was working with. On this particular case, he was working with Bobby Christianson, Elizabeth’s deputy, whose relaxed demeanor and even temperament usually helped remind Nick that someone had his back while the defense cross-examined him.

He always had difficulty, whether he showed it or not, with being cross-examined. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but feel that he was personally on trial, and defense attorneys usually came up with ridiculous ways to refute the testimony he presented. He supposed this had to do with his very first experience in court as a young CSI in Dallas, when his own brother had rather viciously cross-examined him. The Houston County DA, a friend of their mother’s, assured him several times over that the not guilty verdict that was returned was not his fault, but he still felt guilty.

Waiting for the trial to begin, he sat placidly in the courtroom, privately reliving the pleasantness of waking Elizabeth that morning. It had been three weeks since his first official date with Elizabeth and by his measure, things were going extremely well. They were together more often than not, and added Cassie whenever they could. Elizabeth had taken to bringing dinner to his house to share when he woke up, and Nick would bring her coffee, either to her office on his way home, or preferably directly to her bed, which was where he’d been before coming to the courthouse. Around the lab, he tried to keep it quiet for the sake of avoiding a lecture from Ecklie, but everyone knew. Grissom even seemed pleased by the whole affair, and although Nick thought this was odd, he didn’t question it.

As far as Nick and his evidence were concerned, it was an open and shut case – the suspect’s epithelials were all over the victim, particularly in her defensive wounds, his saliva and blood were on her clothes, and his fingerprints were all over the suspected weapon. In addition, he himself had injuries he couldn’t reasonably explain, and the victim had called police because of him on four previous occasions. The trouble was that the victim was comatose and couldn’t speak for herself. While on the stand, Nick explained to the jury the science of epithelials and how he had been able to reconstruct the fight and connect the unexplained injuries on the suspect to the victim. The defense claimed that his electronic reconstruction had been manipulated and called the rest of his testimony flimsy. The attorney was well on his way to provoking Nick into a shouting match when the prosecuting attorney finally objected to the hostile line of questioning. Nick was soon excused.

Loosening his tie on his way out of the courtroom, he saw Catherine, Grissom, and Ecklie walking toward him. “Hey guys,” he said, pulling the tie off. “What’s up?”

“Brass brought our suspect from the shooting on McArthur Boulevard,” explained Grissom, referring to the case he worked that night. “We’re headed over to PD to question him. Do you want to come along?”

Without hesitation, Nick shook his head. “No, y’all go ahead. I worked twelve hours before my stint in court; I need a nap.”

“You sure, Nicky? You were pretty hot on this one at first,” commented Catherine.

“Yeah . . . but if you want, I can see if I can get anything else out of him later on today . . . maybe around dinner time, if you can hold him that long. I need to see the DA to check on something else, and then I’m going home. If you need to, you can reach me there.”

Ecklie creased his brow and looked to Grissom for a moment. “You’ve been seeing a lot of the DA lately, Nick,” he said, more than a little curious. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

Nick shook his head and rubbed his eyes a little. “No . . . it’s nothing,” he replied.

“Nick, if you’re in some kind of trouble, your superiors need to know about it.”

“I’m not in any trouble, Ecklie,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Before he could ask any more questions, Elizabeth Halles herself approached. Her eyes were trained on Nick and she had a grave expression on her face.

“Elizabeth?” he asked cautiously. “What is it?”

Hesitantly, she held out an envelope. “This was couriered over this morning from DFS.”

He took the envelope from her hands and extracted the letter contained inside. Before he could unfold it to read, he looked up at her and asked, “Did you read it?”

She nodded solemnly. “I did.”

Nick turned back to the paper in his hands, unfolding slowly and clearing his throat before he commenced reading. The letter was brief and to the point, and when he was finished he closed his eyes and folded it again.

“I’m sorry, Nicky.”

Catherine put her hand on Nick’s shoulder. “They didn’t . . . deny him?” she asked, ready to pounce on the DA for not having already pounced on DFS. “Not again.”

It was quiet in the hallway for a moment. “Deny him what?” asked Ecklie, looking on curiously. No one answered him.

Catherine tried to take the letter from Nick, but he wouldn’t relinquish it. He took a mighty breath and asked, his eyes still closed, “So this . . . this is the answer . . . this is . . . definite.”

“Yes,” answered Elizabeth, nodding.

He opened his eyes. They were steely, determined. “And nothing will change this?”

“No. Nothing.”

Catherine took a step closer to Elizabeth, the color heightened in her cheeks. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing you can do,” she spat, angry on behalf of her friend. “You’re the DA – I respect the fact that you don’t like to use it, but you do have some influence. You have connections, you know people, you know-”

“Get a hold of yourself, Willows,” said Ecklie, putting a hand on her upper arm. “There’s no need to yell in the hallway of the courthouse.” He turned to Elizabeth. “What’s going on with Stokes?”

Elizabeth kept her eyes on Nick, who was re-reading the letter, and allowed Catherine to rant at her boss.

“Stokes is being discriminated against by the Department of Family Services,” she replied, her tone no less fierce but the volume lower.

“Catherine, stop,” said Nick, curling his hand over her shoulder. His voice was low, thick. “It’s all right.”

She turned to him, appalled. “No, it’s not all-”

“I got her.” His face was solemn, but otherwise unreadable, and there were unshed tears in his eyes. He swallowed back the emotion that was bubbling up and handed her the letter.

She took it from him, reading aloud as Ecklie and Grissom listened. “Dear Mr. Stokes . . . pleased to inform you . . . granted guardianship of Cassandra, effective April first. If, after thirty days and the successful completion of the home study, no concerns have been noted by DFS, you may move forward with the formal adoption process.” Catherine looked up at Elizabeth, who was now smiling slightly at Nick.

“Four foot eight, sixty pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes . . . congratulations, Mr. Stokes, it’s a girl.”

Grissom peeked at the letter over Catherine’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Nick,” he offered, his eyes bright.

Nick’s eyes were still locked on Elizabeth, who was the only one who could interpret his intense look for what it was – a mixture of gratitude, joy, and adoration. “I got her.”

She laughed at him a little. “Yeah . . . you got Annie,” she quipped.

“I got her.”

“You got her.”

The next thing any of them knew, his arms were around Elizabeth and he was murmuring in her ear. “Thank you, Lizzy . . . thank you so much.” He wanted to kiss her but was too aware of his surroundings, and particularly of Ecklie. “Thank you.” Stepping back, he swiped away the tear that had managed to escape his eye.

“Oh, Nicky,” said Catherine, her hand on his shoulder. He immediately turned to hug her next, squeezing tight for a long moment. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, Cath,” he replied as he let go and backed away.

“You know, you two are a couple of insufferable teases,” she declared, looking back and forth between Nick and Elizabeth and not really knowing whether she should be annoyed or overjoyed. She swatted Nick’s arm with his letter, which he accepted from her, and then turned to Elizabeth. “What are you sorry about?”

Elizabeth fixed her with a confused glance for a moment before she remembered her apology. “Oh, that – I bet Stokes that his petition would be approved within a month of the hearing. He was not so optimistic, and now he owes me shoes.”

Catherine took a peek down at Elizabeth’s black Oxford pumps. “Prada?” she guessed.

“Stuart Weitzman,” Elizabeth replied knowingly.

“What’s that mean?” asked Nick, scowling slightly and tilting his head at Catherine.

Smiling, Catherine turned her bright smile back up to Nick. “Means you’re about to go broke,” she replied. “Well, Nicky . . . you’re in for it now, in more ways than one.”

“Does someone want to fill me in on what’s going on?” barked Ecklie, annoyed.

Elizabeth turned to him, a bright smile on her face. “Stokes is adopting a little girl, Ecklie.”

Surprised, he turned to Nick. “Oh. I see.” He nodded, and then looked at Elizabeth. “And you provided representation for him?”

“Yes,” she replied, nodding, her tone bright and condescending. “No wonder you’re the lab director, Ecklie – you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes.”

Ecklie shot her an annoyed look, but offered his hand to Nick. “Congratulations, Nick,” he said, and Nick shook. “Is this why you’ve been seeing so much of each other lately?”

“Ostensibly,” replied Elizabeth, hoping to put an end to Ecklie’s questions. “Now, Mr. Stokes . . . I believe there is a little girl to inform and a debt to be settled. Which do you want to do first?”

He smiled at her. “The little girl is still in school,” he replied, looking at his watch. “So why don’t you let me buy you lunch and we’ll go from there.”

“That sounds perfect,” she replied. “I’m ready when you are.”

Catherine and Grissom issued adieus to Elizabeth and Nick and walked away. Ecklie lingered a little longer, and turned to the pair with an uncomfortable expression on his face. “Look, Nick . . . Elizabeth . . . I, uh . . . I’m going to trust that nothing . . . inappropriate is going on.”

“Inappropriate?” questioned Nick, who wanted him to walk away – into a black hole, preferably. Just for a little while. “No, nothing inappropriate here.”

“No?” He turned to Elizabeth. “Can I call you Lizzy?”

“Oh, Ecklie . . . of course you can’t,” she replied brightly. “That’s reserved strictly for neighbors.” She winked and was clearly amused at his discomfiture.

Ecklie nodded slowly. “All right. Well – again, congratulations. We’ll see you both later.”

Nick and Elizabeth both nodded as he walked away to join Catherine and Grissom, who were waiting patiently at the end of the hallway. Once they had boarded the elevator, Nick’s hand curled around hers and they turned to each other, smiling.

“I could burst, Lizzy.”

She kissed him softly. “Lunch at my place?” she offered, her eyebrow raised. “You can nap, and we’ll go see Cassie. We can worry about your debt another time.”

He kissed her, but his kiss wasn’t soft; it was hard and passionate and he hoped it conveyed how much he adored her, how grateful he was for her help, and how unbelievably happy he was. “I’ll meet you at your place,” he replied. Kissing her gently one last time, he squeezed her hand and they parted, heading to the parking ramp together.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*​

Nick drove out to Blue Diamond holding Elizabeth’s hand. Once he parked the truck in Emily’s dusty driveway, he took a moment to admire her relaxed, cheerful features. Then he lowered his voice a little and said, “Listen, Elizabeth . . . I don’t know how I can ever thank you for this, but if there’s ever anything I can do . . . I hope you’ll let me know.”

She smiled. “I did the easy part,” she replied. “You’re the one that has to raise her; I just helped you get the chance to do it.”

Nick looked at the house. “That’s what I wanted,” he said. “That’s all I wanted.”

Elizabeth patted his knee. “Let’s go tell her.”

He turned to smile at her before opening the truck door and sliding out. Elizabeth beat him to the front door and knocked as he stood on the sidewalk behind her. Susan answered the door shyly.

“Hello.”

“Hi there,” said Elizabeth gently. “I’m looking for Cassie McBride – is she here?”

“Yeah,” replied Susan, but didn’t move.

“Could I come in and see her?”

Susan paused before she spoke again. “I’m not supposed to let strangers into the house.”

Nick moved so that Susan could see him. “It’s okay, Susan – why don’t you go get Miss Emily?”

Susan scowled. “Oh – it’s you.” She opened the door, and for the first time Nick noticed that she did it with her left hand. He wondered whether that had anything to do with Cassie’s constantly-disappearing baseball glove. “I’ll go get stupid Cassie – she’s upstairs reading. Again.” She turned around and disappeared, but her voice could be heard calling for Cassie.

Nick climbed the front steps, passing Elizabeth on his way and leading her into the house. “You have quite an affect on the ladies, Nicholas,” she commented dryly.

“It’s a gift,” he said as they entered the living room. She just shook her head.

Emily was in the living room folding clothes on the floor. She looked up when Nick and Elizabeth came in and greeted them politely. Without having to ask why they were there, and without standing up, she said, “You got her, didn’t you?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

She shook her head and looked away, and a moment later wiped a tear from her cheek as she looked back up at him. “I’m glad for Cassie,” she whispered.

It was quiet a moment before Cassie could be heard bounding down the stairs. Her enthusiasm at Nick’s unexpected appearance brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face.

“Hi, Elizabeth!” she exclaimed once she’d given Nick a hug. “What are you guys doing here?”

Nick grinned. “We have some good news for you.”

Her eyes brightened. “About the adoption?” Nick nodded. “What is it?”

“Well, if you remember, there are two parts to this whole thing,” he explained, as he had once before. “The first part is, they say that you can come live with me, and they give me temporary custody of you. Then, they do that home study, and some extra paperwork, and you meet with a judge, and that makes it official.”

“So what’s the good news, Nickelbee?” she asked, feigning exasperation.

He grinned. “The good news is that we got a date for that first part. You can come live with me on April first, and after about a month, Elizabeth is going to help me file the adoption paperwork.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up, in much the same way Nick’s had.

“Really,” confirmed Nick with a smile.

In response, she squealed and threw her arms around him. After a moment she let go and ran to Elizabeth, hugging her as well. “Thank you!”

Nick rose again, and then looked down at Emily, still sitting on the floor and passively folding clothes. “Would you mind if we take her out for some ice cream?”

She shook her head without looking up. “No . . . go on,” she said quietly.

“Can we bring you back something?”

Emily paused a moment in her folding. Slowly, she looked up at Nick with an odd, guarded expression. “I’d like that.”

He smiled; she looked away. He had noticed that in the last few weeks, she’d been doing a lot of that. He was about to ask whether she was all right when Cassie bounced off of Elizabeth to stand in front of her. “What kind do you want, Miss Emily?”

When Emily turned to look at Cassie, her face was all adoration, although she still didn’t smile. “Just a Dilly Bar,” she replied. “A chocolate one.”

Cassie then grabbed Nick’s hand and pulled him toward the door. Laughingly he looked back at Emily. “You sure that’s all you want?”

She nodded. “Call every hour,” she said, out of habit more than anything. Elizabeth noted that her voice seemed a little thick.

Nick smiled at Emily. “We’ll only be gone thirty minutes, Em.”

She looked swiftly back down at her sock pile. “Okay. Behave, Cassie.”

Elizabeth dearly wished she could’ve read Emily’s thoughts just then, because she suspected that they would have been full of Nick. She smiled at her instead, hoping to get one in return, but it seemed Emily had no smiles to give.


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(c) 2008 J. H. Thompson
 
Aw, you're a trickster, you are! :lol: I knew you'd come through tho. And you even brought a little tear to my eye, tugging on my heartstrings like that. :) Another fine job!
 
Yayyyyyyy, Nick's getting her. It's about time.

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I just wanted to make sure I got my point across. :lol:

I loved the teasing Nick and Lizzy did. Catherine, you gotta love her. She gets so testy. I could just see her going to DCFS and giving them a piece of her mind.

Nickelbee: I just love it.

And what's up with Emily?

So when's the proposal? :lol:
 
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