Disclaimer: not mine, though that's kind of implied. No money, so please don't sue me.
Spoilers: Season three, expect for Living Doll, as I want to know how it ends before writing about it.
A loud snore interrupted the relative quiet of the dark apartment. A young man was sleeping on a squashy old sofa. A small dog lay on his feet. It looked like a travel-sized version of Lassie. The dog was also asleep.
In front of the couch, a scratched, wooden coffee table sat. On it there was half a pizza, three different remote controls, a set of keys, and a cell phone.
The young man was still wearing a faded pair of blue jeans and a Marilyn Manson T-shirt, having passed out in front of the TV again.
The TV itself was showing reruns of the X-Files. The man in apartment had turned it on and fallen asleep halfway through the episode, exhausted from yet another double shift.
His dog picked up it's head and yawned once. Seeing no reaction from his owner, he then got up and walked over to the coffee table. After a quick sniff, the animal buried his nose in the pizza box.
Seconds later, the cell phone rang, echoing through the apartment. The dog yelped in surprised and jumped back on the couch, landing neatly on his owner's stomach.
"Oww!" a pair brown eyes shot open in surprise. "Stupid dog." He muttered, giving him a friendly scratch behind the ear. The phone rang again. Without bothering to see who was one the other end, the young man picked it up.
"If this isn't a hot chick, I'm hanging up." He announced, still half asleep.
"Greg?" An amused and very familiar voice sounded in his ear. The voice did not belong to a hot chick.
"Never mind." Greg suddenly wished the floor would open up and swallow him. "Hi boss."
Grissom said, "Good morning."
Tired, and now more annoyed then humiliated, Sanders responded, "Do you have any idea what time it is? Cause I was kind of sleeping on the first day off that I'm had in months."
"I know. I'm sorry, but Rick wasn't answering his phone, and Catherine and Sara have all ready got a scene."
"Why do I have a feeling I won't like where this going?" Greg sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was simply not allowed to a full day's sleep at home.
Grissom sounded apologetic, at least. "I need you to help process a scene. Dayshift's tapped out and I seem to be short a CSI."
Greg got up and walked over to a window. He pulled open the curtains, flooding his living room with bright sunlight. "Where is it?"
Gil gave an address and directions, along a brief description of the scene. Greg thanked him and hung up the phone. After storing what was left of the pizza in a nearly empty fridge, he ducked into the bathroom for a moment. He glanced into a mirror and saw a ragged, sleep deprived Greg Sanders staring blankly back at him.
He studied it for a moment and then quickly ran a comb through messy brown hair until it looked almost normal. After considering it for a moment he decided not to bother shaving. The address that his boss had given him suggested there wouldn't be too many people around, anyway.
Next, Greg brushed his teeth and went into a dark, untidy bedroom, almost tripping over an old skateboard as he entered. After finding some semi-professional looking clothes, he changed.
The dog looked at him as left the bedroom. Greg knelt down next to him and petted his furry friend. "Sorry, Buddy, but I have to go to work. I'll have the neighbor kid walk you later." The neighbor kid walked Greg's dog more often then Greg Sanders himself, but Buddy didn't mind. It whined at his owner.
Greg leaned close to him and noticed something that he should have much earlier. "Remind me to give you bath after shift. You smell like you've been rolling around in garbage." Buddy just wagged his tail.
Then he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out the door. His field kit was fully stocked and all ready in the car, along with his ID and a light jacket.
On the way to the crime scene, Greg turned up the radio to full blast. It helped him to keep him awake.
After a quick pit stop to find something that would do a lot more to keep himself and his colleges awake, Greg arrived out in front an old mine.
Grissom was waiting for him. "You're late."
Greg did his best to look annoyed. "You called me out to the middle of nowhere on my day off, to crawl around a dark cave with a mummified body that's been dead for god knows how long, and you want to know why I'm late."
Grissom looked at him in shock, not expecting that kind response from the usually easygoing CSI.
"Well then, I'll tell you." Greg smirked, "I stopped to get coffee." He offered the confused supervisor a cup. "Sounds like challenge."
Grissom smiled back at him, accepting the coffee. "This would have nothing to do with the fact that you are dangerously close to becoming a Level III CSI."
"Of course not." Greg grinned back at his boss and followed him into the dark cave.
After a few minutes of walking down a wide, somewhat well lit tunnel, Gil led Greg down a narrow, twisting branch.
It seemed to end in a small cavern, which was completely dark save for the flashlights belonging to an edgy Nick Stokes and David Phelps, the assistant corner.
"Hey guys," Greg greeted his friends. "What's up?"
"Hi, Greggo." Nick almost jumped out his skin when a bug skittered over his boot. The dark cave was clearly making him nervous.
David glanced up from the body. "Hi. We've got a mummy here, no obvious C.O.D." He seemed fascinated by the gruesome discovery. "Vic appears to a young female, won't be able to tell you much more until the post."
Greg nodded, and took a better look around the chamber. It was barely big enough to contain the four of them and the body. He wondered why his boss put so many of then in here, unless Grissom wasn't planning on sticking around.
As if on cue, the supervisor's pager went off, echoing down the tunnel. Grissom looked at it. "All right guys. I've got another call." Grissom paused, taking in the nervous Nick, and then reached a decision. "Greg, I want you running point."
"What?" The other two hadn't expected this.
"You heard me."
Greg looked at him. "I'd ask why, but doubt that you would give a straight answer."
Nick didn't say anything, not even sure if there was anything to say. His friend was a good CSI, close to being promoted. And all Nick wanted to do was get out of the dark hole where they had found a mummy.
Gil smiled the young CSI. "Why not? You do think you're capable, don't you?"
Greg rolled his eyes. The bugman had a reason for everything that he did, even if he rarely shared it with anyone else. "I'd like to think that I am."
"So it's settled, then." Gil left the cave and headed out to the new scene. Nick was studying the cave floor for any sign of a struggle. After a few more minutes, David and the body left.
Greg swept his flashlight over the walls. A glint of something silver caught his eye. On the wall hind Nick, there was a small opening, about a third of the way up. He played his flashlight beam over it again.
There was definitely something in there. Nick gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything.
Sanders walked over to it and pointed out the object to Nick. "What is that?"
The big Texan looked him straight in the eye, "I have no idea." Greg looked from the opening to Nick. No way he was going to make him crawl through and get it.
"Guess I'll find out." Greg climbed up and scrambled through the opening. After crawling forward good fifteen or twenty yards, it was clear that he had found an aluminum baseball bat.
"Hit the jackpot." He called to Nick. "Possible murder weapon."
"Careful," was the only response that he got.
After a few seconds of struggling, and getting more dirt all over his clothes and everything else, he turned around and headed back the way he came.
Unexpectedly, a rat ran across Greg's foot, startling him. He instinctively jumped up, hitting his head on the roof. A very loud Norwegian curse followed.
"Greg?" Nick poked his head in. "You okay?"
"Just a rat." Sanders continued forward. He thought he heard footsteps entering the chamber.
After a few minutes, he reached the opening, and dropped down to the cave floor.
"Hello." Greg had unintentionally landed at the feet of a tall red haired man. A pretty young brunette that looked familiar stood behind him.
"Hi." Greg recovered from his surprise. "Nice shoes."
A/N: I know, I have another fic to finish. I've been a little sidetracked writing the first draft of my first novel, (almost done! ) I will soon, but this story just wouldn't go away and I decided to take a quick break from my other project. Thinking about making this slash, but haven't decided. I'll write more when I'm awake. Please let me know what you think.