Title: No! Bad Nicky!
Author: Shanyle L
Email: rueful_anarchy@yahoo.com
Pairing: Nick/Grissom
Rating: PG-13 at the most I think
Summary: Why can't Nick sit still?
Author Notes: Ok, this is completely an improvised writing piece. I don't know why, but I just had to respond to this one, also this is my first CSI fanfic, so be gentle and constructive with the feedback. There's a little salute to Buffy in here if anyone catches it.
Words I had to use: 1:drip 2:freaky 3:hooked up 4:duck walk 5:fake 6:dude 7:your socks are on fire 8:you never struck me as a trekkie 9:Canadian 10:riverfront 11:it's raining 12:gondolier 13:big screen 14:coffee grounds
It may suck, I'm not running on very much sleep and maybe I'll revise it if any of you want me to continue, and given the... oddness of the fic, I think I'm safe from revising! ;)

Here it goes:

Nick sat in the breakroom listening to constant drip, drip of the sink and trying not to let it bother him. Today had been hectic and all he wanted to do was sit down in the nice quiet room and have a snack. However, as soon as he sat down and relaxed minutely, the dripping had been absorbed. It was a matter of will and principles that he didn't get up and turn the faucet off properly, he had *just* sat down.

After determinedly finishing his snack, Nick got up and fled the scene. Hearing that water go made him have to take a leak. It didn't help that one of his assignments was at a house that had a artificial miniature riverfront in its backyard where the body was found and he hadn't gone to the washroom since the beginning of his shift.

After washing his hands, Nick looked into the mirror and nearly did a double take, his eyes were a lighter shade than usual, a freaky hazel color… for him anyway. Weird. Everything about today was weird, he woke up weird. Maybe it was a good thing that all he had in the house for coffee was old coffee grounds in an old filter, he was buzzing out of his skin… restless. People around him seemed to notice as well, so it wasn't just him. Sara had said `you look like your socks are on fire the way your jumping around'.

For the life of him, Nick couldn't find out what was wrong with himself today, he just couldn't sit still for longer than five minutes, no matter how much he wanted to. Greg had asked him who his dealer was and if he could get hooked up, but Nick had just sort of glared at him until Greg lifted his hands in defeat.

So here Nick was, walking down the hallway, contemplating whether or not it would be grounds for firing him if he ran up and down the hallway yelling his head off. Maybe not, but it may get him a trip to a nice padded room with room service and pills on your pillow. As Nick walked along, thinking about his sanity (or lack of as the case might be), Grissom came up beside him, a file folder under his arm.



Grissom looked slightly confused. "What did Greg say?"

"Oh! No match with the boyfriend, but the DNA is still from a man."

Grissom nodded as he absorbed this. "What do you think about the brother?"

"He doesn't seem the type."

"They rarely do, but I think he seemed a little odd."

"Maybe he's Canadian." Nick said with a mutter.

"What was that?" Nick looked at Grissom and shrugged.

"Is something wrong, Nick? You seem kind of… distant today."

Nick sighed and tried to get a hold on his emotions. Nick wanted to tell Grissom. For some reason he wanted to let Grissom know how he was feeling, but he didn't know how to put into words. "I just- I feel like…. Like I'm stuck in the house `cause its raining outside, you know? Like I'm cooped up with nothing to do."

"Maybe you need a change in your routine."

"Aaah, seek out new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before?"

"You never struck me as a trekkie."

"Yah, TNG is my favorite, I watch it on TNN, big screen whenever I get the chance." Grissom nodded. "You almost remind me of Data." Grissom let an eyebrow leap up at that. "I said almost… but with that eyebrow, you're looking more and more like Spock." Grissom pursed his lips -and why was Nick looking at his lips like that!?- and tried to decided whether or not looking like a emotionless Vulcan was good or not.

"Maybe I'll give up crime scene investigation then and take up with Starfleet Academy."

"You do that Grissom, maybe you and your ship can drop me off in Italy so I can fulfill my dream to be a gondolier." Grissom again lifted an eyebrow and Nick let out a chuckle. "I think you're right though, I need a change of routine. Wanna come with? I'm thinking that I'll boldly travel to the bar and grill around the corner."So now there Nick was, sitting across from Grissom, waiting for their food to come. Nick took a sip of his drink, he was sure that Grissom didn't find the silence uncomfortable, but Nick needed to say something.

"Hey Grissom, check out that dude over there." Grissom looked over his shoulder at the large man striding up to the bar. "He has a duck walk." Grissom looked back at Nick, in obvious askance. "Well he does, he walks like a duck. I though I'd point it out." Way to go Nicky! That was a brilliant conversation starter, walks like a ducks, Miss. Manners look out! Maybe for one night, someone could make Grissom think he was cool, or at least let him fake it. "Sorry Grissom, I don't know what's up, but all day I've just been feeling antsy."

"Do you have any idea why?" Nick went over in his head what had happened today.

Nick woke up, normal seeing as he wasn't dead yet. Nick got into the shower, got out of the shower, stubbed his toe, got a page from Grissom, didn't get coffee because, well, he already explained that one once. After Nick got to work, he went to his locker, saw Grissom coming out of the shower, all wet hair, shirtless with only pants on… no socks and- Nick shifted in his seat.


Nick sat stunned. How could he have not realized… he felt so dumb! Wait, no way… nope, no crush on the boss. No crush on the boss. Nick looked up to explain he had no idea what was wrong and paused. Purdy eyes. Nick shook himself and gave a little cough. "Nope, no idea." The image of himself running out of the restaurant like he just remembered his cat was in the oven briefly came to mind before he dismissed it thinking that Gil would know something was up. Oooh boy, this may be a long dinner.

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