A/N: I am back with yet another Nick as a daddy fic, which of course I love to write. I am trying not to sound like a complete idiot, because I know close to nothing about gymnastics, but have always been a fan. If any of you are familiar with it, do let me know if you are available to give me suggestions about stuff. Without further ado, please enjoy and review.

Though he'd been working as a CSI for the better part of two decades, Nick Stokes hardly ever got tired of the job. There was always something new for him to learn and master, causing him to get better and better at his job each and every time he clocked in at CSI Headquarters. New technology came out all the time, which he got to tinkle and play around with – it was like being a little kid. As Catherine had said many times, they were all just little kids being paid to solve puzzles. Nick absolutely loved his job, and these days he liked to throw all his energy into his work.

Today was one of his good days, as he tapped the rhythm to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, Sara was sitting next to him in the Denali, heading off to a crime scene near the northwest side of town. The slight indentation on his left ring finger wasn't bothering him today like it sometimes did, a reminder of the nightmare that had been the last year of his life. He was moving on, and not looking back; turning a new page in his life. As Nick began singing along to the Maroon 5 song, Sara looked over at him and let out a little chuckle- one of those that kind of came out through her nose, letting all who heard it know just how ridiculous she perceived Nick to be acting right now. Not that she minded. Childish Nick was much more fun to work with than depressed-having-marital-problems Nick. He wasn't always like this, but Sara would take his good moods when she got it.

Nick continued for a few moments, but then looked over at his partner for the day, shooting her a look that showed he knew just how ridiculous he was acting. He enjoyed amusing her, and knowing that he was now back in a place where his personality was light enough to make others laugh at him. Months before, he knew he brought people down. It's not like he could really help it. His wife had walked out on him – up and left to New York to pursue her business career. How could he not act depressed when who he thought was the love of his life suddenly fell out of love with him? And how could he have enough energy to face a double shift when all his energy went into caring for the daughter she abandoned? It still made Nick sick to his stomach, how she could just take off to another state, thousands of miles from her own child, and not have a second thought about it. She'd said she'd been ignoring her career for too long, and being a full-time mother just wasn't working for her anymore. So, selfishly, she'd opted for the holiday-mother title, leaving Nick to raise their now twelve year old daughter by himself most of the time.

"You better not be laughin' at me." Nick challenged her as they rolled down the streets of Las Vegas, this warm fall afternoon. His still amused look caused Sara to shake her head at him again.

"And what else am I supposed to do when you can't hit a single note?" Her own face showed her utter amusement with the situation, and general fondness of her partner. Sara was so glad to have her old Nicky back. The one that would bust her chops over reading foreniscs magazines, hang out with her when he knew she was feeling lonely, and of course make her laugh. There were times when she feared she'd never see him smile again. His face had been dead for months, without a single flash of that thousand-watt smile, or the laugh lines that went along with it.

"Well excuse me if I'm not Elvis and I want to bust out a tune." He continued with their flirty banter. Nick definitely felt lighter these days. The mess and hurt of the divorce was slowly dissipating. There would always be a little bit of pain involved, but he thought he was dealing with it much better now. It helped to put all his concentration into work. His daughter, Madeline, wasn't always in the greatest of moods, and while he tried to get her to talk about her feelings, it sometimes just seemed easier to let her stay cooped up in her room IM-ing her friends and bury himself in case files in his office. It saved him the emptiness he got when all he got as a response was a shoulder shrug, or some form of a negative or affirmative sound.

The song ended, and the new Britney Spears single came on, causing both adults to groan depreciatively. Sara reached out and turned the radio down so they wouldn't have to listen to it.

"Maddie loves that song. I don't see what she sees in that ho-bag." Nick said, admitting that he regularly didn't understand his pre-teen and her obsessions. She'd loved Britney from the beginning, through all the drama, bare-footed trips to public restrooms, and questionable parenting skills. Sometimes, though, he didn't feel like he ranked much higher in the parental department than Ms. Spears did.

"Nice." Sara shook her head. "How's she doing these days anyway?"

Nick shrugged and sighed. "Okay sometimes. She's still pretty upset about Lauren leaving."

"I'll bet. Is she talking more now?" The kid was like a safe which no one knew the combination to. Sara had tried talking to her on multiple occasions but only got one-word answers. Apparently, Nick got about the same.

"Not really. She just coops herself up in her bedroom when she gets home. Says about five words a day to me."

"Wow." Sara said, exasperated. "Have you thought about sending her to therapy?"

"I don't know. I think therapy's overrated. She's just goin' through a rough time." He looked straight forward, his mind wandering to his twelve year old, who just this morning managed to sneak out the front door without saying good morning to him.

"Well, I think it could-"

Nick's cell phone rang, cutting off Sara's thoughts. He kept one hand on the wheel, and managed to clip the phone away from its holder, flip it open, and bring it to his ear in a matter of seconds. His eyebrows furrowed as he checked the caller ID.

"Madeline? You okay?" He answered, his voice showing his obvious concern. Sara turned the radio down even further, though when she did, she felt like she was eavesdropping, which she wanted to do but knew it wasn't polite. She looked out the window and tried to concentrate on something else, but in a car it was pretty much impossible.

"Dad, can you come pick me up?" The seventh grader requested from her end of the phone, sitting on a bench outside the Vitaly Scherbo School of Gymnastics, still dressed in her leotard and workout pants. Her overloaded backpack and workout bag were sitting next to her, and she played with the drawstring to distract herself from how angry she was.

Nick glanced at his watch. It was only four thirty in the afternoon, and his daughter was scheduled to practice until six. "It's only four thirty, Mad and I'm at work. Why aren't you practicing?"

Normally, she was driven home by the Murphys, who had a daughter in the same level and lived a few streets away. Madeline would be home alone for a little while before Nick returned home in the evening.

"I'm just not. Can you pick me up or not?" She asked him shortly, not in the mood for conversation. He always asked too many quesitons, and she really didn't want to explain to him what had gone on at practice. Hopefully, she could just ignore him and he would shut up like he normally did.

Nick sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well, I'm headin' to a crime scene with Sara. I guess I could swing by and drop you off at home."

"Fantastic."

"And you're gonna be explainin' to me why you're not training like you're supposed to right now." He let her know. Nick could tell she wasn't in a good mood, and sensed something must have gone on at the gym. Who knew, with middle school-aged girls. Maybe they'd succeeeded in a mutiny and burned the balance beam down.

"Or not. I'll be waiting outside." She clicked her cell phone off and stuffed it into the front pocket of her backpack, then zipped it roughly. Her finger caught in the teeth, so she snatched her hand away and then slapped the pocket as payback. Everything was angering her today. It was her best friend Emma's mother's birthday, and she was talking all day about what they had planned to do. Though she'd tried to be nice about it, the way she went on and on and bubbled about her mother upset Madeline, because she felt she would never have that relationship with her own mother. How could she? She lived a thousand miles away. Madeline had thought she was special to her mother, but obviously she'd been wrong. As soon as she'd gotten in the way of her dreams, she'd ditched her and her dad, and taken off into the sunset for a better life. And if all that wasn't enough to upset her, she'd gotten a lunch detention for not paying attention in History class, and then at gymnastics practice, the coach would not shut up about keeping her toes pointed and reaching a full handstand on bars, so she'd snapped. She'd challenged her to "Get her fat slobby ass on bars and try pirouetting without breaking her neck". Needless to say, she had been asked to leave for the day, which was why she was now sitting on a bench outside while her teammates practiced.

Her father would not be happy with her at all. She could hear him now, asking her where she'd gotten her mouth, as if she would know. Madeline considered just not telling him about that part, but he had a way of finding every little detail out when she was in trouble. Not that he cared about anything else she did. It seemed the only time she had his attention these days was when she misbehaved. Otherwise, he just sat in his office working on his cases from work. If she could avoid looking at his eyes, she could probably manage to lie just a little bit and not have to repeat to him what she'd told her coach. But then again, if he found out from someone else, she would be in even more trouble with him. He loathed lying, but sometimes she'd do anything to avoid his displeasure with her for just a little longer.

Madeline felt bad being angry at her dad all the time, but alas, he was the only parent around for her to take her hurt and anger out on. Though she acted like she was annoyed by him most of the time, Madeline still cared for him desperately like any girl loves her father. She strived for his approval most of the time, but it got old after a while, when he seemed to be so consumed in his own problems and pain. For a while, she'd tried extra hard to be the perfect kid, because she thought that maybe if she got perfect grades, and did really well in gymnastics, he would be so proud of her that he'd forget about how depressed he was. She tried that at first, but it got exhausting fast, and it seemed no matter what she did, she never got the approval she needed. So, she just shut down on him. They barely held conversations, and Madeline avoided him for the most part. Things weren't how they had been when she was a little girl; when she told him everything; when she would launch herself onto her parents' bed in the morning to wake them; or when she ran to him after doing very well at a competition. Nick was practically unrecognizable as her father, and Madeline knew she was a far cry from the bubbly, upbeat girl he loved so much. All they were concerned with at the moment was surviving.

Back in the Denali, Nick called his daughter's name several times before he believed she had hung up on him. Sighing, he flipped the phone shut with a bit of an annoyed snap, then latched it into its holder once again. Nick breathed in slowly, his chest puffing out as he prepared to make a U-turn to head back to his daughter's gym.

"Everything alright?" Sara checked softly, already knowing the answer. It always helped to get Nick to talk if something was bothering him, but he wasn't always willing to do so. He didn't like unloading his problems on others, but today he seemed to want Sara's advice.

"I don't know." He admitted, some of the pep gone from his voice now, as he maneuvered his U-turn. "She wouldn't tell me much. I'm gonna need to make a little detour. Sorry."

"It's fine. Do you want me to call Grissom?"

"That's probably a good idea. I'll do it." Nick admits, though facing their boss's wrath isn't exactly at the top of his most wanted to-do list. Grissom wasn't what you would call a family man, and perhaps wasn't as understanding about personal side-trips on company time. However, Madeline always came first in Nick's book, even if it meant getting yelled at by Grissom. Nick quickly makes the call, letting their boss know they will be a few minutes late to the scene, and it was due to a family emergency he'd explain more later. Luckily, Grissom didn't give him too much flack.

As Nick pulled up to the pick-up circle at the front entrance of the gym, he shook his head when he saw his twelve-year-old sitting on the bench texting. Luckily, he'd signed up for unlimited texting with his cell phone company. He'd opted for this after received a three hundred dollar bill about a year ago. Personally, he didn't understand what was so enthralling about sending texts when you could call and hear someone's voice. That was just one of many things he didn't understand about his daughter.

Madeline saw her father's SUV pull up, so she slung her backpack over her shoulder and let her gym bag bob at her side as she finished typing a text to one of her friends. Maybe if he saw she was busy texting he wouldn't interrogate her with a thousand questions. Slowly, she opened the back door, threw in her gear, and climbed in afterwards.

"Hi, Madeline." Sara greeted the kid she'd known since she was about five years old. She was definitely much more talkative and pleasant back then than she was being lately. Sara just hoped that when her own son got to be Maddie's age, he would be a little more receptive to conversation. Cody was only six, however, so she had plenty of time before he hit the teen years. And from what she'd heard from Nick, teenage boys were much more easy to deal with than teenage girls.

"Hi." She answers shortly, not taking her eyes away from her phone. The phone buzzed with a new message as Nick pulled away from the circle. He stole a glance at her in his rearview mirror. It didn't escape him that she was currently immersing herself in the art of texting, something she did when she didn't want to talk to him. However, today that was not going to fly.

"How was your day?" Sara went on, turning in her seat slightly to talk to her a little easier.

"Okay. Dad, will you turn up the radio please?" She requested dismissively, not really caring to talk to his nerdy coworker.

Instead, Nick reached over and turned the radio completely off, then cleared his throat. Sara pretended to find the road fascinating again, as Madeline let out an audible groan.

"Madeline, what happened?" Nick asked simply, resting his left arm on the edge of the window, rubbing his hand over his chin in thought. Madeline concentrated on her texting, wishing he would just drive. After about five seconds of uncomfortable silence, Nick's left hand fell to the steering wheel a bit loudly in frustration.

"Madeline Elizabeth." He warned her in a tone he reserved for only when he was done with being patient. It was a tone he'd been adopting more and more these days, and seemed to get less and less effective.

"What?" Her cell phone buzzed again with a message.

"Turn your phone off now and explain to me why I'm pickin' you up an hour and a half early." He demanded. Sara shifted a bit uncomfortably, feeling like she was imposing on the small family. She knew Madeline must be embarassed to have her father questioning her in front of someone else, but she wasn't exactly making things any easier on herself. Reluctantly, Madeline put her phone on silent and tucked it back into her backpack, not wanting to anger her dad anymore.

"The coach decided I was done for the day." She told him vaguely, which wasn't a lie. Madeline looked out the window, hoping she could delay the truth long enough for them to arrive home. At least then he'd have to wait until later to yell at her, because Madeline knew he was in a rush to get to a crime scene. However, she also knew he wasn't above yelling at her in front of certain people, which included Sara.

"And did you have anything to do with that?" Nick wondered, his suspicion evident in his voice. It was unheard of at Maddie's particular gym for the girls to be let off early, unless there was some sort of emergency.

"Can't we talk about this later?" She requested.

Nick looked over at Sara, and they exchanged eye contact for a moment. "We've had conversations in front of Sara before." He pointed out, his suspicions now further confirmed. It's not like he was going to tear into her in front of someone else, but he was just trying to get some information. "Are you afraid I'm gonna yell at you?"

Madeline shrugged and let out a contemplative sound. "Hmmm?" Nick asked, waiting for her answer. "Did you do something I need to know about?"

"Maybe." She told him evasively, playing with the drawstring of her active pants.

"Maddie, I don't have time for this. Sara and I are supposed to be at a crime scene right now, and we had to go out of our way to come get you. The least you can do is tell me the truth. If I have to drag it out of you, or if I have to call your coach, it's really not gonna make me very happy."

She hadn't thought about that possibility, and knew her dad wouldn't hesitate to call up the gym and get the whole story from her coach. It would be better to just tell him everything, but that was always the hardest part. Madeline took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Fine. I had a really bad day at school, so I wasn't in a good mood at practice." She began. "So when Jane was getting nit-picky about my routine, I may have mouthed off a little bit to her."

Nick nodded and sighed. The Madeline he knew just a year ago would never dream of talking back to her coach, but he didn't feel all that surprised that she had. Was this the way their lives were heading? That it was becoming acceptable for Maddie to speak to other people so rudely? And was it wrong that, at times like this, Nick wished Lauren were here to help him deal with it?

"What did you say?" His voice had a disappointed anticipation to it, wondering just how low she had stooped.

"Ummm…well, it included the term 'fat slobby ass'." Her shoulders hunched up and she cringed in awful anticipation.

Sara even winced. She'd known Madeline for a long time, and it was heartbreaking that she'd turned into the type of kid that would mouth off to adults. Sara was definitely glad she wasn't Nick right now, having to deal with this dilemma.

"Oh my God." Nick muttered in disappointment. He shifted in his seat, his fingers making contact again with his chin as he tried to contain his displeasure. "I cannot believe you, Madeline Elizabeth."

"She was picking on me! She wouldn't leave me alone at all, and the other girls were whispering and giggling at me!" Madeline defended herself.

"You know that's not an excuse." Nick told her sternly. "Where do you get off talkin' to your coach like that? That's her job to correct you, and it's your job to do what she says. You know that."

"Well I don't like her. I want a new coach."

"I think you need to change your attitude. I bet that would help out the situation a whole lot." Nick countered. His daughter's attitude and mouth seemed to be getting worse by the day. Making a right turn onto his street, he decided it was a good thing he had to rush off to work, because he might say something he would regret otherwise. Madeline was getting awfully good at saying things that got under his skin.

"I think everyone needs to get off my back." Maddie muttered, glad they were almost home. Nick pulled into the driveway of his two-story home, clicked the button on his garage door opener, and put the Denali in park. Madeline got out immediately, without even a goodbye to either adult, and walked towards the slowly opening garage door. He unbuckled his seatbelt and cleared his throat as he turned to look at Sara.

"I'll be right back." He promised her, the statement promising a certain amount of doom for his young daughter. That meant he needed to say something to her that he wasn't comfortable saying in front of Sara, which was all around bad news for Madeline.

As Nick closed his door, Sara sighed and closed her eyes. "Don't say anything stupid, Madeline." She said softly to herself, as a wish to the twelve eyar old just out of eyeshot now.

Nick quickly caught up to his daughter as she walked through the garage. He didn't say a word as he followed closely behind her, torquing his jaw slightly in displeasure. Madeline sighed as she opened the door, knowing she hadn't quite gotten away scot-free for now. She would have to suffer through a little more lecturing, and this time Sara wasn't there to hold his temper back. Maddie used to be so afraid of him when she was in trouble, but now it was just replaced with more anger towards him. He wasn't doing so great with his life. What business did he have telling her how to act?

Madeline grumbled as she let her backpack and workout bag fall to the floor by the kitchen table as she kicked off her flip flops.

"You're pretty lucky right now that I have to go to work, because otherwise I'd be drivin' you back to the gym to apologize to Jane." Nick informed her, his arms crossed authoritatively. Madeline spun around to meet his gaze, hoping he knew she wasn't intimidated by him anymore.

"Well, goodyyyy." She mocked him a little, reaching down to loosen the wrap she had around her left ankle.

Nick continued, ignoring her disrespect. "So instead, you can write her an apology letter to give to her tomorrow. One page, single-spaced, regular-sized handwriting." He got specific because a couple months ago, she had to write a similar letter to her babysitter, and she'd written the sentence I'm sorry in huge letters, covering the entire page.

"If you actually came to my practices to watch me, you'd know what a jerk she really is."

"That's quite enough from you." Nick decided, picking up her backpack, and setting it down on the kitchen table. He began to get out her notebooks and textbooks, setting them out on the table. "Since your afternoon is free now, you can start on your homework early. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to finish before I get home, and plenty of time to write and proofread your apology letter. Then, when I get home, you and I will be having a long conversation."

"I can't wait." She told him sarcastically as she turned to go get a snack in the kitchen. However, Nick caught her wrist before she could go much further and tugged her back.

"And I want you to have a good answer for me about why you behaved like this today." Nick told his twelve year old calmly, yet firmly, making eye contact with her for several moments. He didn't know where and when she'd gotten the notion she could start acting like this. Nick knew she was hurting from her mother leaving, but that didn't give her a ticket to start misbehaving.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows and took her wrist back as he picked up her cell phone to remove the distraction. "And no, you can't go to one of your friend's houses when you're done. I'll see you later." Nick said a bit coldly, stuffing her cell phone into his back pocket.

Madeline just pulled out one of the chairs roughly and plopped herself down in the chair, frustrated with the situation. Though she hated being in trouble, it was also nice to actually have him paying attention to her. It would be better if it was a tender hug, a pat on the back, or hanging out watching a movie together, eating popcorn – just knowing he cared about her as a person, and wasn't just that man who punished her when she acted up. As the door to the garage shut, leaving Madeline alone in the big, empty house she couldn't help but think noone cares about me anymore.