Title: Birthday Song

Author: Sonia

Pairing: Warrick Brown/Nick Stokes

Series: No

Sequel: No

Spoilers: No

Rating: PG-13 (Warrick has a potty mouth…)

Disclaimer: Oy vey, no they don't belong to me.

Summary: Beer, karaoke and love. Can it get any better?

Notes: Eck stop me before I slash again!Short unbetaed nonsense. A response to the birthday challenge that appeared on one of the CSI Slash lists. Thanks for the kick in the pants!

Told from Warrick's POV. This * means there is an explanatory note at the end of the story.

Birthday Song
by Sonia

After the candles are out and the presents have been opened, I actually dig birthday parties. I like it when everyone gets a little tipsy and starts spilling their secrets. Not the deep dark ones, just the ones everyone knows or have kinda guessed at. That's why I stick to three or four beers. I've got a trunk full of secrets that are going to stay that way.

It took three months of wheeling and dealing for all of us to get the same night off for Nick’s party. It tells you something about Nick that they all worked so hard to do this for him. For some ungodly reason, Nick wanted to have his party in a karaoke bar. Could he be anymore Pat Boone? I thought Grissom would have a seizure when he realized where we were going. The Red Apple is a Vietnamese restaurant with a slamming karaoke setup. Songs you would have never thought to pick are right there at your fingertips. It also has a mode where you can just mime to the real song. Thank God for that 'cuz some of these people really really I mean really can't sing.

Sara and Catherine are doing Nowhere to Run by Martha and the Vandellas right now. They have chosen not to mime…unfortunately. Whew, when will this song end! I'm sitting next to Nick and he's grinning like a cat with a mouse burger on his plate. He loves this stuff. I've hooked up with a real dork. Don't get me wrong I love him to death but he's a dork. Our thing is one of the secrets I'd like to keep. It's hard but it's for the best. Even the guys on the team don't know about us.
Grissom hasn't quite figured it out yet. Sometimes he's not as observant as he thinks he is.

Keeping it a secret means that everybody still thinks he's on the market. I'm getting a little worried about all the sex vibes that are thrown at him 24-7. Men, women it doesn't seem to matter. Hell my own cat Ethiopia likes him better than she likes me. It's weird; I never noticed how many people flirted with him until I wanted it to stop. Even Grissom gives him the once over every now and then. I've always thought he was little sweet on Nick. Just my opinion you
understand.

The Sara and Katherine show is over and now Greg is going to attempt "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails. This is the sixth or seventh song he's….sung is not the right word. I lean over to Brass.

"Can't you arrest him for this?"

"Don't think I haven't thought about it," he growls as he knocks back yet another shot.

My man tugs on my sleeve. His eyes are all shiny and bouncy. He's two beers from drunk. I've never seen anything more adorable in my life.

"Rick, what are you going to sing? Sing something for me."

"Nick, man I'm not going up there. I told you that this morning."

He shakes his head no "You're the only one of us that CAN sing. Please? I'll make you your favorite dinner," he says in a sing song voice.

"What's your favorite dinner?" Sara says over her shoulder. She’s always in my business.

Nick smiles as he says "It's meatloaf with a big ol' baking potato and sweet baby peas." My grandmother is the only person I’ve told about Nick. She’s disappointed that I won’t reproduce but she was amazingly cool with the situation. She loves Nick almost as much as I do. She taught him how to make her special meatloaf.

"Sounds good." Grissom ventures with a smirk.

"It is. Trust me. Nick, you can sing a little and it's your party. Why don't you go up there?" A fake to the left usually works.

He pretends to hesitate, puts on his thinking face then says with a Betty Rubble giggle,

"OK."

I feel like a Gumby doll. I've been completely manipulated. He knew I would say that. He wanted me too.

He leaves our table to cheers and applause. Greg thinks it's for him. Sara tells him the truth. Greg
still thinks it's for him and sits down smiling. The world he lives in is a pretty place. Nick is
programming the machine for the song he wants. Then he shoots me a look of molten lava. It's quick but I see it. Lord, what is he up to?

He says to the eleven other people in the bar "Y'all having a good time? " Nick sounds like Garth Brooks when he gets tipsy.

"This is for a very special friend of mine, who couldn't make it here tonight. Very special. Haile*
this is for you."

I've forgotten how to breathe. This is it. They are going to take me out of some fucking karaoke bar in a strait jacket. How could he do this? I'm breaking out into a cold sweat. The only saving grace is that no one knows. No one and I mean no one except my grandmother knows my middle name. My mother was a Rasta, briefly, and stuck me with it. My grandma stopped her from making it my first name at least. It's not on my birth certificate thank God. I told Nick about it after a very heated "discussion" about trust and honesty. I'm not the most forthcoming person
and he called me on it. Now he is using it as a weapon. Great. So much for trust.

He pushes the button and the music starts. Oh God, not this corny pathetic syrupy piece of pop. He is joking, right? He has a decent voice. It has a typical mid-range sound, not too high or low. He puts his heart and soul into it.

"Ok, I know most of you out there know this one. Help me out OK?"

He starts singing and everybody joined in. If they only knew whom this really was about. I start thinking about the chorus of the song and I see why he picked it.

Oh, I love you more today than yesterday
But not as much as tomorrow
I love you more today than yesterday
But, darling, not as much as tomorrow

I like what this song says about us. I like what it says about the way he feels about me. I'm not as
pissed off as I was a minute ago. It’s almost over and he’s looking right at me. He’s going to blow our cover big time. Maybe that’s the point? He’s off the stage and headed back to our table. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before. He’s going to lay one on me right here in front of everybody. Shit.

He leans into me and whispers in my ear "Did you like my song?" He’s grinning ear to ear. I’m trying to be cool about this but I don’t think it’s working. I give him the hottest look I can without giving away too much.

"Yeah, I did."

Catherine pulls on his collar "Nick you dog. How could you be in love and I don’t know who she is?"

"It’s hard work but it’s worth it." He says with a smile and a light blush.

"Who is it? There’s no one at the job with that name." Greg says.

Nick looks at him and I think he finally realized how dangerous this can get.

"It’s a pet name." He mumbles. He starts to move away from me. Something clicked in my head. It’s now or never.

"You started this." I say as I put my arms around my lover. The kiss I lay on him leaves no mistake as to who Nick is in love with.

The hooping and hollering was encouraging. Sara’s face was priceless.

Brass laughs out loud. A real belly laugh. Never ever thought I’d hear that from him.

They talk about us all the way to the parking lot. When did we get together, are we going to be out at work? Questions we aren’t ready to answer. We just smile and brush them off. We all hop in Grissom’s Tahoe since he is the designated driver for the evening. Greg doesn’t leave though. He and the waitress are on the same page. I think he hopes to be in the same bed with her at the end of her shift.

We drop off Catherine, then Brass. Logically I’m next. Grissom never asks me if I’m going home. He starts heading over to Sara’s.

"Gris, you’ve got to go past my place to get to Sara’s. Drop me off."

"I know a shortcut to Sara’s from here." He states with that "Don’t argue with me" voice.

The silence in this car is very, very loud. Grissom hasn’t said a word about all of this. Sara is sitting next to me breathing fire. There is no mistake. She’s being gotten rid of. We get to Sara about fifteen minutes later. She’s seriously pissed. As she gets out, she shoots a look at Grissom in the rearview mirror that would make a Marine pee in his pants. Nick, who’s riding shotgun, thanks her for the gift. She’s about the say something when Grissom pulls away.

"What’d you do that for?" Nick says angrily.

"What the hell did you think you were doing back there? Do you know what someone like the sheriff or Ecklie could do with this "situation?" Grissom spits out.

"Hey Grissom, we don’t have to check with you about our personal lives. I don’t remember Sara asking for permission to date Hank." Nick says smoothly.

"Hank doesn’t work for me."

Oh it’s going to be like that. "Neither do we. My employee card says Las Vegas Crime Lab. Not Grissom’s personal CSI slave." I’m boiling now.

"Whoa, calm down." Nick turns around to look at me. He shakes his head. I look up and I can tell I’ve hurt Grissom with that one.

I could take this to another level but he’s a friend and our boss. This is not like him.

"Look what’s the real problem here? I don’t remember you ever giving a damn about any of that stuff."

I can see him backing off with the set of his shoulders. I finally get it. He’s jealous. I knew it.
I was right. He wants Nick for himself. Something else occurs to me just now. He wasn’t surprised at all when I kissed Nick.

"You knew. You figured it out."

"Right after Nick said Haile. Your cat’s name is a bit of a giveaway."

"True that." I chuckled.

We are in front of Nick’s place. What happens now?

"Are we all cool?" My peacemaking lover says.

"Yeah we’re cool. Sorry, I, uh, you know." I’m not good at the apologizing thing.

"Yeah me too. I hope you guys …are happy." It costs him a lot to say that. Nick gets out of the car first. I hang back a bit. I have give Grissom something.

"Nick is a very lucky man. It’s got two guys totally hung up on him."

He turns to look at me, and nods. "The difference is you can make him happy."

"Yeah I can." I’m not bragging but it’s true. I get out and walk up the stairs to Nick’s door, which he’s left open for me. From outside I hear that corny pathetic syrupy piece of pop that Nick sang to me earlier tonight. I’m beginning to like it a lot.


The End


*Haile Sellaise 1892–1975, emperor of Ethiopia
(1930–74). Considered a "deity" by the Rastafari.