G.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Plotline is.
Date: Oct. 12th 2008
Author: glrox a.k.a. Roxanne
Notes to Remember: Nick/Greg, slash. When they are switched to separate shifts, Nick and Greg don't see each other anymore. They are forced to communicate by leaving notes for one another. Warnings: Mild language and sexual references.
Notes: I haven't seen a story like this, and so I thought I would try it. I have never written in this style before, so I hope it works. Just a little plot bunny that has been gnawing on my toes. Nick's notes are to Greg before he leaves their apartment, and Greg's notes are to Nick when he comes home.
Good morning, sorry I missed seeing you wake up. Gil wanted me to come back in, the DNA results are back. Coffee is in the machine and there's one waffle in the freezer left for you. What do you want for dinner tonight?
Love,
N.
N.
Hope you had a nice day at work, looks like I'm going to be staying late, so I won't be home until eleven or so. New developments in my case and all that. Don't wait up for me, you need all the rest you can get. You're on your own for dinner though.
Your favorite meal,
G.
G.
These schedules are getting ridiculous. I wanted to wake you up to say good morning, but you got home so late I didn't think it would be fair. I made coffee as always. Hopefully we'll see each other in the hallway. If I don't get to kiss you once before the weekend I'll be pissed.
Your kiss-deprived boyfriend,
N.
N.
Good evening or night or whenever. I can't even tell what time it is anymore except when I go outside. Which seems rare now. I hope I see you today too. The bathrooms at work aren't that big, but maybe we can squeeze something in. Don't wait up for dinner.
Your never-gets-to-eat-dinner-anymore bedmate,
G.
G.
Damnit, this is frustrating! Oh well, Gil said we might only have to do this for another week or so, until he can talk to Ecklie. At least we got to talk yesterday. If by talk you mean "suck each other's mouths off in a bathroom stall until Adam showed up and ruined everything". At least he didn't see. I hope you got a good night's sleep and there is left-over pizza for you to eat for breakfast. I know how much you like it.
Your starting-to-hate-this-job cowboy,
N.
N.
Pizza with anchovies! And mushrooms! Blah! You know I hate them. And the whole pizza tastes like them even when I pick them off, I've explained to you. But I guess I can't fault you for trying. At least there was some food in the fridge, unlike the other day, when I went in there and someone had forgotten to go grocery shopping. Again. Would you rather trade jobs? I'm getting tired of not seeing you except for a few minutes at work.
Your anchovy-hating, mushroom-despising rock star,
G.
G.
Well, excuse me. I've been working on this case and I didn't have time to go shopping this week. Gil is working me like a dog and it's really getting on my nerves. Maybe you could be a bit more understanding. I'm trying to be helpful around here. You know how this job gets. God I miss talking to you.
N.
N.
I am nothing if not understanding. Although I fail to understand why you didn't just wake me up so we could talk this morning, rather than scribble me a note in your chicken scratch handwriting about how this is all my fault. I didn't change our shifts. You said you were talking to Gil. I hate this, I want a day off, I want a break, and you aren't helping.
G.
G.
Fuck this. I'll talk to you tonight.
N.
G.
Stepped out to do the grocery shopping, be back in an hour. Don't you dare move from this bed, you hunka hunka burnin' love. We're having real waffles when I get back.
Forever yours,
N.
P.S. Maybe we should get into note-fights more often if it makes you an insatiable man-beast. Rawr.
