Title: The Center Of Attention

Author: Jeanny

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Season 2 through The Stalker

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Feedback/Email: Please! jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Archive: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/crazymeltyland

Summary: Being stalked brings up some issues for Nick; Catherine tries to help.

Disclaimer: I own nothing (no, really) and none of these characters are mine. I'm merely borrowing them, and making no money, only fun.

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"Hey," Catherine Willows said softly, sliding into the booth to sit across from her friend. It was still shocking for her to see Nick Stokes so bruised, and not just on the outside. He seemed slightly smaller than he'd been before. He was hunched over his coffee, giving her a failed attempt at his usual smile.

"Sorry," he said automatically as she turned her cup over and signaled for the waitress. "For calling you out so late, I just didn't-"

"Hey, no apologies necessary," she interrupted gently. "I'm just surprised. That you called me."

"Sorry," Nick said again, and she covered his hand with hers, waiting until he met her eyes.

"I told you, don't apologize. Just...talk to me."

Nick stared at his coffee for a long moment, then looked up at her. Even in the bad diner lighting Catherine could see that he was blushing furiously, and she stared at him with wonder as he started to stammer like a schoolboy.

"I...this was a mistake...I really shouldn't...I'm sor-" He was cut off by two fingers gently placed on his lips. Catherine shook her head at him in mock anger.

"Apologize one more time and you're gonna have another bruise to go with the set, buddy," she said lightly. That brought a small smile to Nick's face. "Why don't you just tell me what's going on?"

He nodded, but waited until the waitress had filled her cup and topped off his before speaking again.

"I wanted to ask you something. And it's really kind of personal, so if you'd rather not talk about it, just say so."

Again Catherine was nonplussed. Nick Stokes asking a personal question. It was like Gil Grissom remembering to fill out his non-case related paperwork: pretty much an event. She took a sip of coffee before answering, knowing he wouldn't appreciate it if she said yes immediately. This was big for him, so he needed it to be big for her too. And she had to admit there was a knot in her stomach that hadn't been there when she'd arrived.

"Okay," she said. "What do you want to know?"

"When you were...when you used to...when you were stripping..." Nick suddenly found the formica surface fascinating.

"Ah," Catherine said, nodding. She exhaled, more than a little relieved that it wasn't something worse. "It's okay. I don't mind talking about that part of my life. I'm not ashamed of anything I did."

"Right. I know. That's not...it's just...how did you do it?" He asked the last question with usual intensity, his jaw clenched tight. Catherine frowned in confusion.

"Well, it's pretty simple really. Taking your clothes off, not exactly the most difficult-" He met her eyes then, and the tormented look did as much as his interruption to make her stop talking.

"No. I mean, the watching. How did you handle all those people watching you?"

"Oh, Nick," Catherine said sympathetically, reaching for his hand again. This time he pulled it out of reach, picking up his cup to take the sting out of the gesture, though he didn't drink. He stared into the dark fluid like it was tea leaves, holding his answers.

"I mean...I only had one person watching...watching me do just...normal things and I...I can't deal with this feeling. I know he's gone, but I can't stop feeling like...it feels like I'm being stared at all the time." Catherine felt like crying for him, though she knew that was the last thing he wanted.

"I can't even imagine. I mean, you've got to know the two situations are very different. That guy was trying to get into your head. The men that were watching me...well, let's just say I think my head was the only part of me they weren't trying to get in." She lifted her cup, almost dropping it when he pounded on the table.

"I know it's different!" he said loudly, and the few other late night patrons turned to look at them, as well as the wait staff. Catherine nodded at everyone to let them know things were okay, as Nick stared down at the formica surface sullenly. "What am I doing?" he asked in a more measured tone. "This guy tried to...become me...but he's gone. I know he's gone. All the surveillance stuff is gone. I keep checking...I just can't stop feeling this way. Tell me how I'm supposed to get through this, Catherine. Isn't there something I can do, some kind of trick, technique, something?"

"Cheese," Catherine blurted out. Nick stared at her blankly, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. "I used to get nervous occasionally. Especially when I first started out. Felt a little shy, you know?" He nodded, and she continued, "But I had to pay the rent, so I had to get over it. So when I'd feel my knees start knocking, I'd start thinking about cheese."

"Cheese," he said flatly, clearly not getting it.

"Yeah. Different kinds. I'd try to count them all, as many as I could remember. Pretty soon I'd realize I was halfway through the routine and everything was alright. It's not a solution, you know. Just a technique. That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah, it's just...cheese..."

Catherine could practically see him holding the thought, turning it around on different angles like it was a key piece of evidence. One corner of her mouth turned up.

"It doesn't have to be cheese. It can be anything you want. Like if you were Grissom, it would be-"

"Bugs," Nick said with a small smile.

"Bugs," Catherine agreed. They sat and drank coffee in silence for a few minutes, and she watched him stare into space thoughtfully. "Does that help?" she asked finally.

"Yeah," he said, his smile growing to be a genuine Nick Stokes grin, always a welcome sight. "Yeah, I think it does. Hey, thanks, Catherine."

"Don't mention it," she said, then a thought occurred and she added, "I mean really, don't mention it. About the cheese. I really don't need that little tidbit-"

"Spread around?" he teased. She rolled her eyes and his grin actually broadened. "Your secret's safe with me. And you know my word is gouda."

"Ha," Catherine said flatly, giving him her best glare. Nick chuckled, and after a moment she couldn't hold the look any longer, laughing a bit with him. She wondered idly what Nick would count. Or what Sara would, if she needed to deal with this kind of stage fright. She had a feeling she knew what it would be with Warrick. Ace of spades, king of diamonds...she emerged from her reverie when Nick waved for the check.

"Don't even think about it," he warned when she reached for her purse. "My treat."

"Don't have to tell me twice," she countered teasingly, then sobered. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," he answered after a pause. "I think so. I just can't wait for the day I don't feel like I'm in the spotlight all the time."

"I know," she answered. "Soon as you come back to work, we'll all ignore you, I promise." She got another smile for that one, and that helped convince her more than his words.

"I appreciate that," he said as he stood to go. "I think I'll say good night."

She nodded, then put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?" He looked down at her questioningly.

"You know you're not, right? The center of attention? We're in Vegas, hon, and neither one of us is wearing spandex. Our presence barely registers."

"That's just how I like it," he said quietly, and she watched him go, out the door, disappearing into the crowd. She knew he was still close, but she couldn't see him anymore, not when he was mingled with all the other people.

Just how he liked it.

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