Work Text:
Christmas Morning Over Vegas
by Sam-Tony
Christmas Eve on-call was never an easy shift for a criminalist to work. Murders were down, though suicides were always up, even in Vegas. Maybe especially in Vegas where it was all too easy to burn your last paycheck chasing that one last roll of the dice or lose your life savings on just one more turn of the cards.
The holiday blues were bad enough without the added monkey of Vegas addiction on your back.
High above the city that never slept, Nick Stokes ignored the wind and the way it pulled on his clothes as he stood, the rubber soles of his hiking boots poised on the edge of the roof, staring out over the city that never sleeps. Taking in the hustle and bustle of a night reluctant to give way to morning in the cheerful twinkling of the lights of the Strip as they struggled to outshine the sun slowly rising in red behind him, Nick wasn’t really sure which was worse. A murder had a purpose, evil though it may be, but suicide…suicide was just an empty end of a life. His last case had been one of those.
His shift had ended not quite an hour ago and it would be true dawn soon. Time enough to set up the camera, take a few pictures of the cityscape from 30 stories up before heading home to catch a few hours of sleep. Rick’s party was at four and Nick still needed to pick up a good bottle of scotch to wash down the bitter defeat of the featured football game.
Ever since…*that* Christmas, he had to be above ground; the higher the elevation, the better. Even now, years later, there were still times he could swear he felt the ants crawling on him in the darkness, over his face, under his clothes and in his shoes; could feel the walls closing in until he couldn’t breathe…buried alive…
Shaking his head against the unwanted memories, Nick took a deep breath and turned away from the edge, settling himself in the easy repetition of putting his equipment together; tripod, changing out the lenses on the camera, film. Halfway through the roll he had snapped a couple different angles and depths; by the last shot the sky was noticeably lighter, tingeing the asphalt and glass below a soft glowing pink and he was no longer shaking on the verge of a panic attack.
With one last look at the city of Las Vegas in the first stirring light of dawn, Nick gathered his bag in one hand, tripod with camera in the other, and walked to the other side of the roof intending on snapping a couple of sunrise shots…when he was brought up short by the sight of someone sitting patiently on a wide blanket, picnic basket opened and a traditional Christmas dinner laid out at his knees.
“Grissom?”
The older man smiled, just as the sun rose high enough over the horizon to set the gray and white curls of his hair on fire. “I figured you could use some company,” he offered. “And since I know you haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday morning…”
Guilty as charged.
“You cooked?” Immediately something inside started to uncoil, that same something that had been whispering of home and security ever since Grissom had pulled him out of an unmarked grave.
Smiling that little schoolboy smile again he shrugged. “Might as well. Man can only live on so many greasy diner breakfasts alone, Nicky.”
Nick felt the last of the aborted panic attack fade into nothing at the light admonishment. “Yeah.”
“Go on, take your pictures.” Grissom waved at the eastward wall and the desert painted in oranges, pinks and golds beyond. “I’ll finished setting out the food and we can eat.”
A sudden flash startled the older man, catching him in mid-movement of setting out the potato salad. It had startled Nick, too; he hadn’t known he was going to take the picture until his finger was releasing the button. But more than the sun rising to bring light to a new day, Nick wanted to keep *this* memory – of Grissom surprising him with dinner, friendship and what looked to be that very good scotch that Nick wasn’t going to have to go find after all.
“Nicky?”
And damn wasn’t that bemused little frown too damned cute wrinkled up behind the wire-rimmed glasses. He had noticed before but today it seemed somehow…different. More…
Nick had to clear his throat at the emotion suddenly clogging it to answer. “Yeah?”
Grissom only looked at him for a moment with that look that had pierced many a mystery, before smiling and saying simply, “Merry Christmas.”
End