Title: Say What, Now?
Disclaimer: Don't own these characters, just the plot bunny.
Rating: R
A/N: I honestly haven't done any pregnancy-orientated fics and haven't done any really intimate scenes (since CSI isn't some soap opera). Sorry for any mistakes on those. There will be a punching scene (for those of you who liked that scene in "Jealousy's a Sin".)Anyway…the challenge is:
1. Greg and Sara have become more of friends lately
2. Greg decides to leave surprising them all (reason up to you,
except it can't be because of Sara) they try to get him to stay but
with no avail.
3. They throw Greg a going away party, while there a drunk Greg and
a drunk Sara have a one-night stand, and then he leaves.
4. A few weeks after he gone Sara keeps getting sick, and goes to
the doctor and finds out that she's pregnant.
5. Telling only Nick she gets help through her first trimester. Nick
however plays double cross telling Warrick and asking him to help
get Greg back to Vegas so he can find out he'll be a father.(how
they get him to come back is up to you)
6. Sara's apprehension of telling Greg gets Warrick and Nick an
idea, through manipulation they get her to tell everyone.
7. How will he react? How will the team react? How will it end?
8. MUST USE characters; Sara, Greg, Grissom, Cath, Warrick, Nick,
Archie, Mia, and Hodges. other characters optional
9. Greg/Sara friendship ends Greg/Sara
10. any rating
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"Dead mice or live cockroaches?"
"Cockroaches. No doubt about it."
According to the break room clock, the graveyard shift had only a few more minutes until the day shift came in. By the looks of it though, the two sitting at the small table didn't really care. Sipping on mugs of warm coffee, they were playing a game to pass the time.
"Chicken."
The messy-haired CSI raised a hand in defense. "I speak to save my fellow rodents. I am the lab rat, after all."
Laughing, his friend shook her head, her brown hair falling in front of her eyes. She brushed a piece of it behind her ear. "Not anymore," she reminded him.
"True." He mused as he took another gulp of hot liquid. "Jalapeño peppers or rotten lemons?"
"What kind of question is that? The peppers."
"See, you're not the bravest person either."
"I'd prefer not to get food poisoning, thank you. Dog liver or cow intestines?"
Greg pulled a face in disgust. "That's just absolutely horrible, Sara. Neither."
Sara waved a finger at him. "Nu-uh. You gotta pick."
"Fine. Cow intestines."
"So…normal, Greg."
"My stomach agrees with the norm. I'm not about to die over some probably arsenic-poisoned mouse."
"Good point."
"Sidle, Sanders. What are you two doing, doing nothing?" Conrad Ecklie stormed into the room. "There's a case for you. DB over at the Tangiers. Grissom will meet you there."
The two friends rolled their eyes as their head of department left. "Right when shift's over too. I'm driving," Sara said as she grabbed the lab SUV keys.
"You always drive," Greg complained good-naturedly. "Can't I ever drive for once?"
"Dream on, Sanders."
------------------
A couple of days later, the gang was out for a round of drinks at a nearby bar after their cases.
"Fifteen bucks on the Sacramento Kings." Nick Stokes challenged as he and Warrick Brown focused on the screen above the bar counter.
The African-American CSI grinned. "You're on."
"Doesn't Nick always win?" Mia asked as she took a sip out of her margarita.
Shaking her head, the red-haired sitting beside the lab tech laughed. "Warrick's won before. Once or twice."
"You're just saying that because you love him," Nick laughed as Catherine blushed. "Wittle Willows woves Warrick."
Sara gave him a small shove. "Be nice." In the corner of her eye she saw Gil Grissom frown, just barely.
Down at the opposite side of the table, David Hodges noticed Greg reading something under the table. "What's that?" Before the younger CSI could snatch it away, Hodges had successfully snatched it. "Too slow. Anyway, what is it?" He glanced at the return address on the top of the paper in surprise. "From New York?"
Everyone looked at him in surprise. Even Nick and Warrick tore their eyes from the basketball game and stared at him. "What?"
Slightly irritated now, Greg grabbed the letter back. "Thanks a lot, Hodges." He muttered under his breath. "It's nothing, you guys." He said aloud in what he hoped was a convincing voice.
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Sure like hell it's nothing."
Grissom pointed out, ever a manipulator, "If it's nothing, you wouldn't mind sharing, now would you?" He did that little movement with his head, the one where he tilted it to the side and made the other person realize that it wasn't a question, but an honest-to-god statement.
In defeat Greg put the letter back on the table. "Not exactly how I wanted to tell you guys, but oh well."
Archie shrugged, setting down his soda. He was the only one out of the group who wasn't holding an alcoholic drink. "So get on with it."
Taking a deep breath, Greg nodded. "I've been accepted to work as a CSI at the lab in New York."
Dropped jaws and shocked stares told him that they weren't very happy with that set of news.
"What!" Catherine nearly slammed down her beer back onto the table. "You're leaving!"
"I believe that's what I said," Greg mumbled.
Mia frowned. "What's wrong with our lab?" Nick and Warrick nodded in agreement, glaring at him, as if they couldn't believe he was just going to up and desert them like that.
"Better pay over there. Plus, I got family on the East Coast."
Grissom shook his head. "If you wanted a raise, Greg, the department probably would have given it to you."
"Not just that. I just think that the job offer they had was the best I could get. So, I applied, they accepted."
"We could've matched theirs," Sara protested. "We don't want you to leave. Right, guys?" Everyone echoed their agreement.
"You got the CSI position recently, too," Hodges added.
"We'd understand if you felt like the underdog." Catherine motherly commented.
Greg resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They just didn't understand. "Whatever. I'm leaving in a week, so whenever you guys come around, you can say goodbye." Setting a few bills on the table, he left with everyone staring unhappily after him.
"I say we throw him a good-bye party," Catherine suggested after a few minutes of silence.
Everyone but Mia looked at her as if she went insane. "Are you crazy, Cath? He's leaving us and you don't want to stop him?" Sara cried.
"You know Greg, stubborn as an ass. From experience, he wants us to approve, not condemn him into hell for something he's decided. He's a big guy; he knows what he's doing."
Nick gave an unconvinced grunt. "Uh-huh. Right."
"I'm with ya, Cath. Greg wants our support, and I'm giving it to him." Mia assured her red-headed friend.
Catherine glared at everyone else until they reluctantly agreed one by one.
"I still say it's the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life," Sara muttered as she begrudgingly agreed.
------------------
It had taken some string pulling and quite a bundle of cash, but she, with the help of an apathetic Grissom booked out a bar for a night for the going-away party. So, here they were, sipping on tequila and listening to some upbeats and watching people make a fool out of themselves.
It was amazing how alcohol could give someone a major personality switch, Catherine thought as she amusedly watched Sara as she and Greg were dancing wildly on the dance floor in the bar. Thankfully, they were the only two out there, as everyone else preferred to watch.
"How many drinks has Sara had? Four?" A nonchalant Warrick asked, wrapping his arm around Catherine's waist.
"Five, I think," Nick said as he watched the couple do some weird mix between a tango and the can-can.
"Whatever it was, I'm sure Greg's had even more," Mia clapped enthusiastically as the said CSI dipped his partner in a touching finish at the end of the song.
Hodges walked over, with his drink in hand and some bubbly rookie lab tech in tow. "Don't you think they should call it quits?" He asked as they were now grinding each other very erotically to some fast-paced club beat.
A mischievous smirk crossed Catherine's face. "Whatever do you mean? I think they just got started."
------------------
Later on, neither of the two could remember exactly how they got to Sara's apartment (a cab, or maybe Warrick and Cath drove them), but here they were and they couldn't care shit about it at the moment.
Being their eighth (or was it ninth?) round of drinks before they left the bar, it was quite obvious that they were pleasantly more-than-buzzed and just going with whatever crossed their minds.
And apparently, whatever crossed was very physical.
Once the door closed shut, they were at each other, lips crashing feverishly, tongues dancing together in the warmth of their mouths.
Between the coat rack and the sagging living room couch, his shirt and her shoes had landed on the floor, never breaking contact as their hands reached to explore every inch of the other's body, not wanting to miss a single spot. When their hands were satisfied, their lips replaced their fingertips, his licking at a sensitive spot at her neck, hers reaching for behind his ear, nibbling his earlobe.
She was currently on top, but with some easy maneuvering he found his body covering hers, skin on skin as all that was left was her panties and his boxers, and in any second now those would come off too.
Deep in the back of her mind, she knew that it was the alcohol doing the thinking, that this shouldn't happen, that it couldn't happen.
That disappeared in a haze as he crouched down between her thighs and sent her into oblivion.
------------------
When she woke up with one hell of a nasty hangover but with aspirin and a glass of water sitting next to her on the nightstand, he was gone and she didn't even get to say good-bye.
It hurt more than it should.
------------------
"Eurgh." Sara hastily wiped her mouth with a paper towel as she emptied her stomach's contents into the toilet and flushed it.
Thank god she made that appointment for the doctor for this afternoon. It had already been three days in a row and the stomach flu just seemed to come and go.
"You ok?" A concerned Nick asked as she left the bathroom looking much paler but relieved.
"Just a touch of the stomach flu. I'll be fine."
"Better not let Ecklie or Grissom hear that, otherwise you won't be here much longer." He warned, giving her a caring cowboy grin.
She shook head and smiled weakly. "Just between you, me, and the fencepost."
Working as hard as she could on hers and Nick's case without any more sick incidents, Sara made it through the shift and drove to the doctor's office straight after.
Upon entering the office, the sterile white walls gave her the jitters a bit, even though the lab was almost as colorless as the reception room was. The only difference was that the lab was safe and routine while the doctor's was normally a place she avoided.
Before she even sat down in what promised to be a hard chair, the receptionist called her name. "Sara Sidle?"
The doctor, a Dr. Smith by her name tag on her pristine white coat, was quite friendly. "So, what's wrong?"
"Stomach flu, I think. It's been off and on for three days now." Opening her mouth at Dr. Smith's command, she wondered if it really was what she thought it was.
"Well, as far as I can tell, you're not sick. Tell me, when was your last period?"
Not knowing why, Sara flushed a light pink. "About….five weeks. Why?"
Dr. Smith just smiled. "We'll need to take some tests," She explained as she withdrew blood from Sara's arm. "It'll take a while, but you can just sit here and relax. Leaving the room, the blonde doctor pointed out a few magazines sitting in a basket underneath a poster that said, "It's amazing how fast someone can disappear when one of these shows up" with a chubby baby on it.
Fifteen minutes later the doctor came back, with a knowing smile on her face.
"So what's wrong?"
"Congratulations, Ms. Sidle. You're pregnant."
------------------
It took Nick less than a second to see that Sara wasn't up to her usual self.
For ones, he had only seen her hair in messy curls once a long while ago and her clothes in a haphazard mess, which he was sure the normal Sara wouldn't even dream of wearing.
And two, he's had plenty of meals with her to know that she wasn't a heavy eater, but here she was, eating as if she hadn't eaten in ages.
"Uh…Sara.? Not that you're fat or anything, but that's an awful lot of food you've got there."
"Shut up." She continued to wolf down her meal.
Nick frowned in surprise as she ordered a peanut butter-and-pickle sandwich on top of everything else she had. "Are you sure you're gonna finish all that?"
"Damn it, Nick, leave me alone. I'm eating for two here!" She covered her mouth in a gasp, but he already heard.
In shock he dropped the Coke he was holding and promptly spilled it on his side of the table. Grabbing some napkins, Nick stuttered, "What?"
She hesitated, then sighed. "I'm pregnant."
"What?" He dropped the napkins.
"Are you being intentionally dense?"
"Huh?"
Sara snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Earth to Nick?"
"You're not telling me that-"
"I am. I'm pregnant. Five weeks."
"So that means-"
"Greg's the father."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Keep it, I guess." She helped him mop up the rest of the sticky mess.
"You sure?" They paused in their conversation as the waitress came to pick up their dirty dishes. After the waitress left them with the bill, Nick asked, "Are you going to tell him?"
The silence that he was greeted with told him that she wasn't.
------------------
"Who's your handsome date?" Dr. Smith asked as Sara visited for the last time before the start of her second trimester.
Sara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't know why, but every time she and Nick went somewhere together, people just assumed they were more than friends. "Nick. He's a friend."
"The father?" The doctor started finishing up the check-up.
"No." Dr. Smith raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
"I'm surprised you actually decided to keep the baby, Sara. With your type of job and such."
The brunette gave a look that said 'you-don't-know-everything'. "That's my job. Keeping people alive through ones that died."
Dr. Smith made a little noise of agreement. Writing something down on a clipboard, she smiled. "You're free to go. The baby's perfect."
As Sara turned to go, the doctor called out, "Oh, and from experience….you should tell the father. Tell him how he'll have a perfect child."
------------------
"Hey, man, what's up?" Warrick reached up in his locker to stash away his gun. "Finished your case already?
"I need a favor."
"With the case? Sure, I owe you one with that dumpster case anyway."
Nick shook his head. "No, with Sara."
The dark-skinned CSI wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "What, you want to hook up with her?" He smirked jokingly.
"No, I need you to help me get Greg back to Vegas."
"Not that I don't miss him, but that's a strange favor to be askin'."
"Well, see, there's a bit of a problem…" The cowboy CSI quietly explained the story as his best friend's eyes widened in surprise.
"You're kiddin', right?"
"I wish. So how about it, man?"
"I'm in." Warrick paused. "But how are you planning to get him back here?"
------------------
A few days later over in New York, Greg opened up his apartment mail box and found a disturbingly orange-colored envelope with his name on it.
Seeing that the return address was from Nick, he walked up the stairs to his door and stepped inside. Plopping the rest of the mail onto the kitchen table, Greg grabbed a knife and opened the letter. Inside, he read the colorful writing eagerly.
You are invited to a team cookout at Nick's house!
Where: 492 Warm Springs Road, Las Vegas
When: May 10
RSVP at 702.875.1297
Greg grinned and flipped open his cell phone.
------------------
"So glad you decided to come, Greggo," Nick gave the younger man a brotherly hug as he welcomed him into his house. "Everyone's out back. Help yourself to the hopefully non-burnt goodies, courtesy of Warrick."
Greg walked into the backyard with Nick trailing behind. Catherine noticed him immediately. "Greg!" She rushed over to give him a peck on the cheek. "You haven't talked to us lately," The red-head reprimanded motherly.
He shrugged. "Busy over in New York. There's more cases there than here."
"Higher crime rate," Grissom replied as he came over holding a plate of dirt pudding-complete with gummy worms.
"Your excuse is a load of crap and you know it," Mia admonished, joining the group.
"Where's Sara?" Greg interrupted.
Nick and Warrick exchanged glances over the grill. "She must be inside in the kitchen. Why don't you go say hi and help bring out the salad bowl?" With a small shove, they sent him through the screen door.
Two seconds flat they heard the sound of ceramic shattering and a loud slap. Rushing in, the two friends saw that Sara had dropped a serving dish in favor of giving Greg a nice red mark.
Not noticing that Greg was heading straight back out with the said salad bowl, Warrick swung open the door, sending the very heavy salad bowl on Greg's foot.
"Shit!"
"Oh geez, didn't see you there," Nick beamed as he helped the poor guy up, who fell down after dropping the salad. "No need to get violent, Sar," He grinned as he faced a very livid brunette with a spatula in her hand. Judging by the lines on Greg's face, she had used the utensil to inflict her anger.
"Fuck you. He didn't let me say good-bye, that's what." She hissed, putting a hand on her hip.
"Well, he says hi now." Before Sara could let out what promised to be a fluent string of curses, Nick innocently said, "Didn't you want to tell him something?"
The look on her face said it all as she glared at him murderously.
"Tell me what?" Finishing picking up the broken pieces of ceramic, Greg dumped the remains into the trash and faced her.
"Yes, do tell him," Nick grinned slyly.
If looks could kill, he would've been dead and buried six feet under.
"Nothing. Now, I need to put this outside, so excuse me." Sara roughly brushed past the three men and entered the backyard.
"Say what?" Greg was utterly confused.
Warrick shook his head, as he and Nick smirked evilly. "She'll tell you later, I'm sure." They lead Greg outside.
It was a while yet before Warrick and Nick could set their plan into motion, but they were pretty sure it would be worth the wait.
"Beer for everyone!" Busting out a couple cases of Miller, Nick held them up in the air and passed them to waiting hands. Sara, he noticed happily, bypassed the alcohol and instead gave it to Archie.
"What, are you giving up the alcohol already?" Warrick teased, seeing exactly what Nick was seeing.
"No, I just can't drink it." She sighed longingly, but didn't seem to regret it.
"Not like you're pregnant or anything-" Nick paused for effect. Sara didn't say a word in shock, and Catherine automatically squealed in joy.
"You are?" She looked at the reddening brunette, and nodded. "You are! That's so great! Congratulations!"
Grissom frowned. "You are? Who's the father, then?"
Holding his hands behind his back with his fingers crossed, Greg prayed. "Not me, not me, not me, not me," he whispered under his breath.
"The only person it could be," Sara muttered, avoiding everyone's eyes.
His heart dropped down to his shoes. "Me?" He said aloud, Grissom scowling in disapproval and Mia laughing at the obviousness of it all. "You didn't tell me?"
Sara seemed to have regained her composure, but her too-calm voice gave away her unhappiness of the situation. "How was I supposed to?"
"A letter would've been nice. Or a phone call."
"Oh yes, you want a bastard child being born just because we were drunk."
"In love. Don't forget that part," Catherine supplied impishly as the couple glared. "Come on, everyone else can see it. Why can't you two?"
"Because we're not!" Sara cried out, Greg staying silent.
"Keep on denying it, denial is the first stage to acceptance." Hodges said knowingly, amusedly sipping from his bottle.
"Nick and Warrick already told me about this before I came," Greg admitted after a moment of silence. Sara immediately rounded on her two supposed friends.
"You told him? I can't believe you!" She demanded furiously. "And you wanted me to tell you anyway?"
He shifted his feet nervously. "I wanted you to tell me, not them."
A mixture of emotions crossed Sara's face before she decided to storm back into the house.
Everyone else looked at Greg expectantly and he sighed, following her from a distance.
She moves fast, he thought, as she disappeared from his line of sight. Looking in the amazingly-clean living room to Nick's bedroom, he found her huddled against the wall with tears running down her face.
"They betrayed me," she lamented mournfully as he crouched beside her.
"They just wanted us to see what was in front of us, that's all," he comforted as he put an arm around her shoulders.
"What's that?"
"That I do love you," He whispered, feeling her tense against him. "It's true, you know. I didn't want you to say goodbye because I couldn't."
"You're such an asshole, you know that?" She gave him a rough punch in the arm, but he knew it didn't have any real conviction in it.
"For leaving or for not telling you?"
"Both," she murmured sadly. "But it doesn't matter now, Nick said he was going to help me once the baby was born."
He grinned and in one swift movement plopped her onto Nick's king-sized bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" She tried to pick herself up from the fluffy pillows and oversized duvet.
"Taking care of you and the baby," Greg grin grew wider. "Do you really think I'm going to let Nick have all the fun?"
She gave him a puzzled look as she sat on the edge of the bed. "What are you talking about?"
"I already set it up with Grissom. I'm staying here in Vegas."
"You are?"
"What's with the questions," Greg teased. "I got one of my own."
"And what would that be?"
Pulling out a velvety box from his jeans pocket, Greg got down on one knee facing a very surprised Sara.
"Will you marry me?"
