Something Like That

Chapter 1: First Blush

Summary: Nick and Greg discover that best friends don't really know everything about each other.

Disclaimer: NOT MINE! CSI belongs to CBS, Mr. Jerry Bruckheimer, yadda yadda yadda. But I truly, deeply wish it were mine - le sigh! - Lyrics are from "Something Like That" by Tim McGraw and cookies to anyone who can guess the other music reference I couldn't help throwing in :D

It was Labour day weekend, I was seventeen,
I bought a coke and some gasoline,
An' I drove out to the county fair.
When I saw her for the first time,
she was standin' there in that ticket line,
and it all started right then and there,
Oh a sailor's sky made a perfect sunset,
and that's a day I'll never forget

Nick was singing along to one of his favourite country songs, glimpsing at the clock to make sure they weren't running late, he took a left on Palomino Avenue. Risking a quick glance at his surprisingly silent passenger, he kept his quiet. He just prayed the silence would continue because he didn't feel like arguing over what kind of music qualified to be regarded as good music. No, he definitely did not want to have to hear that rich, throaty, voice go on about how country music should be banned because it wasn't eligible to be even called music, and any form of the word "crooning" should be obliterated from the English language if only to prevent country singers from doing it. He nodded, as if agreeing with some unseen person in the car, that he was most definitely happy to finally have some quiet time to himself to just relax and get into the zone before they got to the crime scene.

I had a barbeque stain on my white t-shirt,
she was killin' me in that mini skirt,
skippin' rocks on the river by the railroad tracks,
she had a sun tan line and red lipstick,
I worked so hard for that first kiss,
and a heart don't forget somethin' like that

He pronounced his natural drawl, enjoying himself immensely because he loved this song. It reminded him of lazy summer days and high school crushes, back when he was young, cocky, and raring to take on the world. He could tell that his partner was getting agitated, on the verge of yelling at him to shut up, and this is exactly what he was counting on because as much as he liked to think he loved the quiet, he couldn't stand it when it came from a certain individual, the one he was quite hopelessly in love with but adamantly refusing to see. Nick mentally started counting down, without pausing to think about why he was so desperate to get his best friend's attention—5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

"Nick! Could you please stop singing? It's past annoying and now it's just getting on my nerves. I mean, seriously, I can see that you have a great voice and all, but country?! I thought I taught you better than that! UNBELIEVABLE!! You're so getting into the Greg Sanders' 12 Step Program for Croonaholics my friend and we're starting right after this shift!"

ding ding ding Jackpot! Nick mentally congratulated himself for bringing his friend out of the weird "non-talking" funk he was in, and for getting himself invited over to Greg's place after shift—a great end to, what he was sure, going to be a brutal shift. Grissom had called him in on his day off as a favour because they had their hands full dealing with multiple robberies that have been taking place near Henderson and various other neighborhoods surrounding it; and the situation was quickly escalating. They wanted to catch the guy or guys before someone got hurt.

"Man, whatever! You shouldn't talk Greggo, 'cause I've heard you singing—or what normal people call "SCREAMING"—to some pretty questionable music…but if you wanna feed me dinner and provide me with free beer then who am I to say no?," Nick sarcastically threw back while silently hoping that Greg wouldn't go back on his plan.

Greg smirked and rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe that he couldn't stay mad at this guy for longer than 2 minutes…actually it was less than 2 minutes, but seriously the man can ask him for anything and he'd probably give it up with a smile on his face. He winced slightly, thinking about how stupid it was to be mad at someone for singing a song that was written with a particular gender in mind.

He'd been berating himself yet again for being such a coward about not revealing his true feelings to his best friend and consequently got mad at the Texan for singing a song, which so obviously told him that Nick was definitely a red-blooded, very straight, American cowboy with an amazing ass. Ok, the singing didn't tell him all of that. He may have picked up some insider info on the amazing ass by doing some peeking while conveniently having to "change" at the same time Nick had to hit the showers after a shift…or 10. Ok, ok, so he was fully taking advantage of perving on Nick's ass whenever the chance arose, even if it meant that he had to "accidentally" spill coffee on his shirt to do so, but he was still amazed that he hadn't gotten the full Monty yet, as he was sure Nick had been on the football team during high school but he surprisingly remained inhibited about getting naked in front of the guys.

Nick cut into his thoughts by gripping his thigh suddenly to shake it and say, "G, get outta dreamland will ya? We're here and the faster we get to work, the faster I can get that free beer!" and with that the warmth of Nick's hand left his leg and pulled him back to reality.

"You know, I'm starting to think you only love me for my beer. Like seriously man, I'm offended here. I thought I was your best friend…is this how you treat a best friend? Like a cheap date?" getting out of the car, Greg quipped back while trying to suppress an involuntary shudder that ran down his spine—which was most definitely not related to Nick's innocent touch. No, it was cold outside and he reminded himself to get a warmer jacket the next time he was out shopping. His eyes automatically scanned the scene in front him to take in as much details as possible about the environment before he walked past the yellow crime scene tape.

"Ha! How would you know how I treat my dates, cheap or otherwise?" Nick dared to ask, before shutting up altogether at the sight that greeted them in the living room. So…they were too late after all. There was blood everywhere, on the walls, on the ceiling, the expensive carpeting was covered with them and the furniture wasn't left out either.

"It's not what you think."

He looked to see where the voice was coming from, and his eyes landed on Grissom standing at the top of the stairs that was situated at the opposite side of the living room.

"What do you mean Griss?" Nick gestured for Greg to be careful while walking on the carpeting and waited for Grissom to elaborate.

"The blood on the walls…they're not human. I tested it and it came out animal, and the house owners reported that their pets were missing, a Chihuahua and a Cocker Spaniel. I've already collected DNA samples of the dogs for comparison." Grissom was walking down the stairs while bringing them up to date.

"So, if it's just like the other ones and you've got it covered then why are we both here?" inquired Greg and Nick nodded in agreement, slightly relieved that it wasn't human blood.

"Ah, but this isn't exactly like the other robberies. There seemed to be a heavy dose of animal brutality thrown in this time and this neighborhood is one with a neighborhood watch. Aren't you curious how the perps managed to maim two very loud animals, and get away without alerting the neighbours?" Grissom asked as he halted in front of them with the samples in his hand.

"Well, they could have sedated the dogs, hoping to keep them quiet for the little time they were in here robbing the place…and the sedative may not have been enough to knock them out completely...but enough to keep them quiet while they were killed to make sure they stayed silent." Nick theorized.

"But that would mean that the perps had prior knowledge about this place before going in, like the setup of the house, and how many people lived in this place…"Greg cut in, while snapping on a pair of latex gloves so he could pick up the broken family portrait that was lying on the floor. The glass frame was shattered, but the picture remained intact, showcasing a family of four: a mom and dad with a girl about 15 years of age with her arm draped around a younger boy who looked about 10.

"If both parents work, and I'm sure the kids must have extra curricular activities they participate in..." he elaborated as he glanced at the various soccer and hockey plaques that studded the far wall of the living room, "the perps must have had prior knowledge about their schedules to have done this at a time when there was no one in the house, which suggests that perhaps this was done by someone who was close to or at least familiar with the family" Greg finished.

"Very good Greg. Your first blush theory may be right," Grissom nodded towards both Greg and Nick.

"But we still have to process the case and see how it pans out. I'm going to head back to the lab and drop the samples off for DNA and Tox to confirm or deny what we have come up with so far. If you guys could process the rest of the house, not a lot was disturbed…mainly the master bedroom, where the hidden safe was broken into, and Mr. Brightside's home office also showed signs…" Grissom was suddenly cut off by Greg's poorly disguised snicker, which turned into a full on belly laugh at Grissom's gape mouthed expression.

Nick shook his head, vainly trying to prevent his slight smile from spreading into a shit eating grin. He loved to hear Greg laugh, it didn't matter that it sometimes made Greg look like a little child, and at other times a maniac hyped up on sugar or caffeine, or sometimes both…the sound still made something flutter in his stomach, and caused him to smile automatically. It must be like Pavlov's conditioning or something

"Greg, if you're not going to let me in on the joke, then you could at least stop laughing." Grissom tried his best to put on his stern "I'm the boss, and you better do what I say" look but failed miserably as he couldn't help but smirk at the now softly chuckling Greg Sanders.

"I'm sorry Griss, but it's just…Mr. Brightside?" to which Grissom gave him a blank look. "Umm, you know what, never mind, we can take care of this, you go ahead with the samples. We'll also see if we could get anything from the neighbours, if we finish here early," Greg tried to reassure his supervisor with a soft smile this time.

"Ok, I trust you guys. See you later, and let me know right away if anything probative comes up because I'm going to be looking over the other robberies with the rest of the team to see if there's anything in common," with a final wave he walked out of the house, leaving Nick and Greg to divvy up the work by themselves.

"Rock, paper, scissors! Winner takes the master bedroom, and loser has to buy the beer for your after-shift intervention!" Greg smirked at Nick while excitedly preparing for the mini-battle.

Nick shook his head and quipped back, "You look like you're pretty sure that you're gonna win there boss. If I were you, I'd be more doubtful about that." He stuck his right hand out, closing it tightly into a fist and narrowing his eyes.

"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky…you've known me how long? And you still have hope that you're gonna win this?" he let out a dramatic sigh, while he made a fist. "It's endearing, really, but get ready to lose sucka!"

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that, and there's more to come. Thank you for reading :D