A/N: As usual, don't own 'em, just love 'em!

Well, I kinda got stuck on Time and Again, and this popped into my head as I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how to continue with that one, so I started this one. I'm pretty sure I know where this is going, so it'll be finished at some point.

If anyone has any suggestions or ideas for Time and Again, I'm all ears.

Charity Auction

Chapter 1

Slapping affectionately at Nick Stokes's hands, Catherine Willows laughed, "You asked me to fix your tie for you, Nicky, so stop pulling at it!"

Glaring good-naturedly back at Catherine, Nick sighed, "How did I let Gris talk me into this?"

Smiling fondly up at the Texan, Catherine replied, "Because you're a sucker for kids, Nicky! This auction will raise enough money to buy a tree – and plenty of presents to put under it – for that youth home, and you know it!" Giving Nick a reassuring squeeze on the arm, Catherine added, "And who knows, you may just get a date that'll change your life!"

Nick doubted that very seriously. No on in the LVPD knew he was gay – he'd come out to his family shortly before moving to Vegas, and look how that had turned out. For all intents and purposes, he'd been disowned. He was pretty sure the only reason his parents had shown up when he'd been abducted was to gloat. He'd heard what they'd told Grissom they could get for the ranch. Seriously! Twenty thousand dollars! That was a drop in the bucket of what that ranch was really worth. It was worth probably close to two or three times the ransom demand!

No, no one knew he was gay, and that was how it was going to stay, so he wouldn't be going on any life changing dates. The only reason he'd gone on any dates since he'd moved to Vegas was because the woman had asked, and he was too polite to say no. A few times that had even included him being too polite to say no to sex. Since that had nearly lead him to being arrested for the murder of Kristy Hopkins, he'd managed to get past that and politely decline if the subject of sex came up.

Leaning down, Nick placed a gentle kiss on Catherine's cheek. "Thanks for the help with the tie, Cath," he said, holding out his arm to her.

They were standing in front of the MGM Grand, the valet having just taken Nick's truck to park. The MGM Grand had generously donated one of their ballrooms for the Las Vegas Police Department's annual charity auction. Up for bid tonight were some of the police department's most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, among them one CSI level three by the name of Nick Stokes.

It was the first week of December, and cold enough that Nick was glad for the thickness of the tuxedo he wore. Next to him, Catherine was wearing a shimmery gold dress that clung to her lithe dancer's body in all the right places, but did nothing to protect against the chill wind that was blowing.

Still harboring mixed feelings about the evening ahead, Nick propelled Catherine forward as soon as she slid her hand onto his arm. When the doorman opened the door for them, Nick ushered Catherine in ahead of him. If the outside of the MGM had been flashy, the lobby was even worse, reminding Nick of why he generally steered clear of the major casinos on or off the Strip. About the only time he tended to step foot in these places was if he had a crime scene to process.

No words were exchanged between the two, as they wound their way through the slot machines and table games. Even if they'd had anything to say, the noise of the machines and people would have made it nearly impossible to hear each other, without raising their voices. They didn't encounter anyone they knew, though that didn't mean there weren't people they knew in the casino at this time. The size of the place virtually guaranteed that at any given time there might be several people who knew each other in the building, but they would completely miss each other in the crowd of people and machines.

Upon reaching the ballroom, they checked in and surveyed the place. Half of the room was set up with tables, as the evening was starting out with a catered dinner. The other half of the room was set up as a dance floor with a stage outfitted for a live band. There was a smaller stage set up at the banquette end of the room. It held a podium, and Nick assumed this was where the auction would be taking place.

They were just early enough that only a few other people had arrived. As they began to wind there way between tables, Nick looked around at the others who were already there, looking for any familiar faces. Other than Catherine and himself, he wasn't sure if any of the other crime lab employees would be attending.

"Nick! Catherine! Hey! Over here!" Greg Sanders's voice cut into Nick's musings, making him swing his head toward the other man's voice.

Greg was sitting at a table towards the middle of the room, and he must have hit the casino bar because he had a beer bottle sitting on the table in front of him. Not going up on the auction block, he wasn't dressed as extravagantly as Nick, though he still looked elegant in a dress shirt, sport coat, and dress pants. For once, his blond highlighted brown hair was slicked down, instead of sticking up in all directions.

Slapping Greg good-naturedly on the shoulder, Nick said, "I didn't know you could get your hair to do that, G!"

Greg, his cheeks turning ever so slightly pink, his smile widening, replied, "Believe it or not, Nick, I do know how to make my hair behave. I just don't usually choose to."

"It looks good on you, Greg," Catherine said, as she followed Nick.

Pulling out a chair next to Greg, Nick helped Catherine into it, then took a seat next to her.

Taking a swallow of his beer, Greg eyed Nick over the bottle. "You're looking pretty spiffed up tonight yourself, Nick."

Laughing at Nick, as she batted his hand away from his bow tie again, Catherine told Greg, "He let Gris talk him into going up on the block tonight."

Raising an eyebrow in apparent surprise, Greg said, "Really!"

Nick couldn't help but notice the bidder's card on the table in front of Greg. "I see you're planning on placing a bid or two tonight."

The earlier rosy color returned to Greg's cheeks, "I've had my eye on one of the dates up for auction tonight for a while now. Thought I'd place a bid. Who knows, I might get lucky, right?"

As they'd been talking, more people had entered the ballroom, and the tables were beginning to fill up.

"Guys," the familiar voice behind them had all three turning to greet Gil Grissom, the graveyard shift's supervisor.

"Gil," Catherine greeted, while both Greg and Nick said, "Gris."

As he sat, he fiddled with the tie of his own tuxedo.

Sighing, Catherine gracefully rose from her seat and walked around to Grissom. "Here, let me. I've already taken care of one bow tie tonight, another won't be my undoing."

"Thank you, Cath. You know how I detest these things," Grissom said, standing back up, so Catherine wouldn't have to bend over or kneel down. As always, his graying hair and beard were impeccably groomed.

With a raised brow, Greg said, "Are you going up on the block tonight, boss?"

"Thank goodness, no. But I am a supervisor, so the tux is a requirement." As he resumed his seat, Grissom glanced over at Nick and said, "You're looking very nice tonight, Nick. I think you're going to raise a lot of money for the charity, as well as making a lucky young lady very happy."

As he lowered his head in embarrassment, Nick caught a quickly hidden flash of emotion from Greg. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought it was jealousy. While the younger man flirted with everyone, he'd never given Nick any reason to think he might be gay or even bi. And while Nick had good-naturedly flirted in return, he never let himself think anything could ever happen between the two of them. He acknowledged to himself that Greg was incredibly cute, and had a nice ass, but that was as far as he'd ever let himself go. So, no, he had not just seen jealousy flash across the other CSIs face.

Servers were now beginning to distribute pitchers of ice water and iced tea, as well as carafes of coffee to the tables. As Nick poured himself a glass of ice water, he said, "Are Sara or 'Rick coming tonight?"

"They both volunteered to work tonight so everyone else could be here," Grissom responded, as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

In a way, this was a bit of a relief to Nick, as his best friend, Warrick Brown, would probably rib him over Grissom roping him into volunteering to be auctioned off. The two had been friends long enough that Nick was pretty sure 'Rick suspected his sexual orientation, but the other man had never asked, leading Nick to decide that 'Rick figured he'd go to him when he was ready.

The room was really starting to fill up, and the noise level had risen from a low buzz to a low roar. Glancing at his watch, Nick saw that it was already a few minutes past eight. He hoped dinner would be served soon. Most people found the schedule he kept odd. Working the graveyard shift meant he had to sleep during the day – a time when most people were awake and working – so he tended to sleep from about one or two p.m. until about nine p.m. He used the time right after he got off of work for unwinding, and taking care of anything that had to be done during "normal" business hours. So he was actually up a bit earlier than usual, and he hadn't eaten anything yet, and his stomach was protesting this fact.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please..." At the sound of Sheriff Rory Atwater's voice silence began to spread through the ballroom like a tidal wave, as all eyes turned toward the stage nearest the dining area.

"Good evening, and welcome to the Las Vegas Police Department's annual charity auction. As you know, each year the department chooses a different charity to contribute to. This year, we've chosen St. Michael's Youth House, a group home for abused teens. The auction will begin right after dinner, with dancing to follow. Let's get this shindig started!"

There was a round of applause for the sheriff's short speech, and the servers began to distribute plates of food.

During dinner, the group did their best to steer clear of shop talk, turning the conversation to recent movies watched or books read, instead. Nick had been in the middle of saying something about a book he'd recently read, when he caught Greg staring at him with a look of such open desire that it caused Nick to just stop in the middle of his sentence.

"Nick?" Catherine asked, glancing from Nick to Greg – who quickly lowered his eyes to his plate – then back to Nick.

Shaking his head, Nick gave out a laugh that he hoped didn't sound as nervous as he felt, "What I was going to say just deserted me." He felt sure that Catherine and Grissom should be able to hear the pounding of his heart, even above the sounds of silverware clinking on plates, and conversations going on around them.

Having known Greg for years, Nick couldn't figure out why he would suddenly react this way to the younger man. And all just from two looks, the first of which, he wasn't even sure he'd seen. Willing his racing heart to slow, Nick decided he had to have imagined the whole thing. Greg was going to be bidding on one of the female officers who'd volunteered to be auctioned off. His own reaction had to just be his own nerves.

Twenty minutes later, the auctioneer announcing, "All bachelors and bachelorettes, please report to the stage," had Nick swallowing a sudden lump in his throat. Standing, he threaded his way up to the stage, where the auctioneer lined everyone up according to the information papers he had about them. Nick ended up about half way through the line. There were an equal number of men and women before and after him, twenty people, including him.

The auctions proceeded fairly quickly. Since everyone present were law enforcement, the interval increases were twenty-five dollars. Everyone in front of Nick managed to raise between two hundred and five hundred dollars.

Now it was Nick's turn. Standing there on the stage, he felt as if every eye in the room were on him – which of course, they were. As the auctioneer read the information sheet Grissom had made Nick fill out, Nick felt his face grow hot. Then the bidding began. It soon became apparent that he was the most popular date by far, as the bids began to add up, approaching, then passing five hundred dollars, and still they didn't slow down. Finally, as the bids approached eight hundred dollars, bidders began to drop out, until there were only two women bidding on him.

A flash of movement from the table he'd been sitting at caught Nick's attention. As Greg's bidder card settled back to the table again, Nick realized what had happened. A quick look around told him that no one else seemed to notice who had momentarily held the winning bid. One of the two women dropped out, but the other outbid Greg. The auctioneer was just voicing, "Going twice," when Greg's bidder card flashed up again.

"Eight hundred fifty to bidder five thirty. Do I have eight hundred seventy-five?" The auctioneer glanced at the woman who had been winning only moments before. She was glaring at Greg, a defeated look on her face.

"Going once," the auctioneer finally said, quicky followed by, "Going twice." He continued to look around. Finally, "Sold to bidder five thirty for eight hundred fifty dollars!"

Nick looked around, waiting for the inevitable reaction from the audience, as Greg stood. There was a smattering of polite applause, the same as for each winning bidder before Greg, but that was it. Nick wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this non-reaction.

Moving off the stage, Nick headed for the nearest door. He hadn't felt this sense of claustrophobia in a long time, but suddenly the walls seemed to be closing in on him, as Greg's words came back to him from their earlier conversation. "I've had my eye on one of the dates up for auction tonight for a while now." Greg's voice echoed in his head. For some reason, the thought that Greg'd had his eye on Nick for some time floored him.

"Nicky!" Catherine's voice coming from the ballroom doorway caused Nick to slow. He was almost to the casino floor, headed towards the front of the MGM. Being the gentleman he was, Nick stopped and let Catherine catch up with him, before moving into the crowd of people.

Catherine put her hand in the crook of Nick's elbow, silently following him from the crowded casino.

While they waited for the valet to bring Nick's truck around, Catherine turned Nick to face her. His brown eyes pleaded with her not to start a scene here.

When the valet drove up with Nick's Chevy Silverado, Catherine pressed a five dollar tip into the man's hand, then told Nick, "Get in," before climbing into the driver's side without asking Nick's permission.

Stunned, Nick did as he was told.

The drive back to the crime lab, where Catherine had left her car parked earlier, was made in silence. Nick was moving past his shock at what Greg had done, and was now heading towards pissed off. He'd kept his private life private for so long, now he was sure Greg had somehow managed to out him to the entire police force.

"Nicky?" the questioning tone of Catherine's voice brought Nick back to himself with a start.

Looking around, he saw that Catherine had pulled his truck into the space next to her car in the parking garage of the lab. She had twisted around in the driver's seat, so she was facing him.

Reaching forward tentatively, Catherine rested her right hand lightly on his forearm. "I'm sorry."

Nick jerked his head up, eyes going to Catherine's face. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"You're pissed. I really didn't think you'd react this way." Catherine sighed, "Be mad at me, not Greg. I pushed him to bid on you."

"What! Why?" the anger in his deep brown eyes was now obviously directed at Catherine. "Why would you do that?"

"He's been mooning after you for years, Nicky. So convinced you were straight that he very carefully hid his feelings away from you."

Jerking back as though he'd been slapped, Nick stammered, "What... How did you..."

"How'd I figure it out? Oh, come on, Nicky! I'm a CSI at one of the best damned crime labs in the country!" Folding her hands in her lap and gazing at them sadly, Catherine said, "Your parents had no right to do that to you! But you should know, Vegas is different. No one here is going to judge you."

A small, "Hmph!" escaped Nick's throat. He wasn't sure what she knew about his parents, but he really didn't want to know, either.

"Do you plan to spend the rest of your life alone?" it was asked so quietly Nick had to strain to hear. "He wants you, Nick. He understands the weird hours, the job, the toll it takes." Catherine looked up, meeting Nick's gaze, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Just go on the one date with him. Don't take this chance for granted. Please!"

"Cath..." Nick cut off whatever he'd been about to say. Instead, he said, "Fine!" nearly choking on the word.

Leaning across the center console, Catherine placed a kiss on Nick's cheek, her eyes blazing brightly in happiness.

Nick said nothing further, as Catherine pulled back and opened the door to get out of the truck. He got out, escorted her to the driver's side of her car, and helped her get in, before going and getting in the driver's side of his own truck.