Disclaimer –CSI and its characters are not mine. I'm just borrowing them a bit, and using them for my own twisted purposes.
Rating: erm, this chapter's pretty PG, but maybe later the fic will be PG-13 to give me some scope for bad lingo and a more slashy theme if/when I continue.
Spoilers: Erm, only if you don't know what happened to the call-girl Nick was dating in season 1.
Content: Nick/Greg friendship, which I like to read as slashiness, and could be later. I'm sorry but these two do flirt – it was that whole scene where Nick kept standing too close to Greg…G
Setting: thought I'd set this after 'Slaves of LV'.
Note: This is just a v.quick thing I wrote on a whim. Just so y'know. ;-) . Oh and the titles cheesily taken from Staind's 'Outside': I'm on the outside | I'm looking in |I can see through you | see your true colours…and I can see through you |see to the real you.
Feedback: Let's hear a "HellYeah!"
I can see through you
Nick sighed, rubbing his aching neck muscles. It was the end of a long night-shift of paperwork, after one of the strangest cases yet. He walked through the corridors, past fellow workers in suits and labcoats, all with briefcases, files, or coffees in their hands.
Everyone seemed so normal…could they really all be like Catherine said? All with their own kinky sexual fantasies?
"Hey, Nick, penny for your thoughts."
Nicky stopped, and took a step back to stand in the doorway of the room he'd just passed. Greg was sitting with his feet up, reports in hand, and had called out upon seeing the CSI pass by slowly with a pensive look.
"Hey, I know my pay's bad, but I'm not that strapped for cash Greg. " he replied light-heartedly, finding himself entering the lab.
Greg rocked back on his chair – probably not a good idea with his feet up – and waved his arms wide, grinning.
"Y'know I give up with you CSI's. All my many efforts beyond the call of duty just get knocked back in my face."
Nick grinned back.
"Well its the shirts man. Make you an easy target."
The Lab tech shook his head, refusing to be beaten.
"No, no, you guys never give me enough credit. I'm the one holding you guys up y'know."
Nick felt a full on a banter-session coming. What the hell, it was late..well, early; it had been a weird couple of days; and the only thing waiting for him back home was an empty bed, and if he was lucky, some days-old leftovers.
He put his jacket on the table, and leaned back against the desk behind him, folding his arms.
"Oh you are, are you?"
Greg nodded, barely containing a smile.
"Yes I am..if it wasn't for my fast-tracking of your tests through here, and my occasional cracking of cases-"
Nick had to interrupt,
"-excuse me? Occasional? Non-science speaking, you helped once Greg, with the scuba-thing."
Greg quickly turned the conversation.
"That was a very strange case wasn't it?"
Nick laughed at the misdirection.
"Yeah it was Greg. Though I think this last thing was a little out there too…"
Something in Nick's face, perhaps a little frown that went with his words, told Greg that this might have been the reason behind his friend's thoughtful look earlier;
"C'mon Nick," he ventured, " I never picked you for the naïve type."
That was something of a lie. Everyone knew Nick as the ladies man, it came with his looks, his charm, and of course, the rumours about his relationship with a call-girl. However, Greg really wasn't such a self-centred lay-a-bout as everyone thought; he'd had a lot of friends in his lifetime, and he had learnt how to read people. He strongly suspected that Nick really was, like him, still a kid at heart. There was always something of an innocence about him. Perhaps it was his baby-face, or his position in the group; the least experienced, with Catherine acting as a mother-figure, and Warrick as his big brother.
It was strange, but whenever Nick went home at night, Greg always pictured him going back to his parents' house, with maybe a stop-by to see his high school-sweetheart. He was just that type of guy.
It was clear now, as Nick got that confused, shy look on his face.
"I dunno, it's just something Catherine said, I guess, about everyone playing out their own twisted fantasies in their living rooms…"
As soon as he said it like that, he was expecting a crude comeback or mockery from Greg, and was already regretting bringing it up. But instead, the guy opposite him really looked interested.
"What, you mean like everyone's like the guys who go to places like that?"
Nick nodded.
"That's what Catherine thinks." he was cautious now, not sure if he was sounding naïve again.
Greg looked away for a moment biting his lip, actually thinking.
"Well, as much as I defer to Cat's wisdom," he said eventually, "I can't believe everyone in the world is as screwed up as those guys.
Now Nick was surprised.
"You think those guys are screwed up?" if anyone had been more amused by the whole case it had been Greg; Nick just assumed that he'd love all that kinky stuff.
Greg gave a smile, that actually seemed a little tired.
"I know, I know- I'm the office clown when it comes to that stuff . But seriously, there's gotta be something off base about those guys if they can't find what they need in a normal, healthy relationship."
Nick was staring at him incredulously.
"Okay, now forgive me, but I never pictured Greg Sanders as the poster-boy for loving, mature adult relationships."
Greg shook his head in mild amusement.
"Y'know, that's the problem with you guys."
Nick frowned, "What, us CSIs?"
"yeah! I see how Grissom keeps you all at bay, and how you all get annoyed that he never reveals anything about his personal life. But I'm telling you man, from what I can see, you're all the same. You all shut each other out. I mean, Catherine's probably not as bad, we all know Lindsay and know about her ex…but I bet no-one here knows what you do in your own time, what's your favourite food, or, I dunno, what your most meaningful relationship was…" he laughed at their ignorance to their own behaviour. "I'm telling you – you're all hiding. It's weirdly impersonal here."
"Woah." Was all Nick could say. "Did you take psych 101 at college Greg?"
Greg pointed his finger at him as if to say 'a-ha!'
"You see? That's exactly my point. Exactly. You don't know if I did or not. You've never asked. And so you certainly have no idea about my feelings about 'loving, mature, relationships'. All you get is what I give you – namely, my entertaining light-hearted, though vastly under appreciated, conversation in the five minutes you spend with me of each case."
Nick was looking at him quizzically.
"It's been a long night for you hasn't it Greg?"
Greg stretched his arms, and gave a lazy smile.
"Yes it has. But I'm still right. And you know it."
They locked eyes for a minute, before Nick laughed and shook his head.
"Okay, I'm beat. I'm going."
"Okay buddy. " Greg sighed, starting to flick back through the files in his lap.
As Nick picked up his jacket and made to leave though, he stopped just inside the door.
"Hey, Greg?"
"Hmm?" Greg murmered, looking up.
Nick smiled and closed his eyes at his own foolishness.
"I go to the gym and play pool, I have a weakness for chocolate-chip cookies, and my most meaningful relationship was cut short when my girlfriend was murdered by her pimp."
Greg stared back for a second, before his face was overcome with gratitude.
"Thanks man."
Nick gave a cautious smile back.
"Later. I've got an empty apartment to get back to."
With that Greg was left alone, feeling privileged to have got a little bit more understanding of the young CSI. And he couldn't help wondering if there could be a deeper friendship there.
For truth be told, Greg worked as many unsociable hours as the rest of them. He didn't have much time for the few friends he had outside of work, most of whom were merely neighbours or former college buddies with lives of their own. Most of the free time that he had was spent with the girls who fell quickly for his charms. The longest relationship he'd had since he started this job was three months, and it was her who had left him, for a guy who wasn't a science nerd, who worked reasonable hours, was better paid, and who frankly didn't look at samples of god-knows-what for a living.
And at work, sure, he flirted with some of the female lab techs and assistants. But he never got invited out for dinner or breakfast with the CSIs, never got to visit crime scenes and feel the rush of thinking through the first theories with them. Nope, he just stayed in his lab, wore a cocky grin, loud shirts, and then went home to his own empty apartment.
And he was smart. They often forgot that. The surf-dude front he put on hid the hours of his spare time he spent looking through forensic science journals, reading decent books, and watching intelligent movies. And he watched other things too; he watched people. He watched Catherine and Grissom's friendship, he watched how Grissom and Sara's minds followed the same patterns of thought, he watched Warrick's determination and professionalism, especially when teamed up with Catherine. And he watched Nick. He liked Nick. It occurred to him that should they have met outside of CSI they could still have been friends. It was always fun when Nick appeared in his doorway, got in his way, showed his naivety sometimes, and joked about his latest hiding place for his porn.
Now if only he could get him to stop treating him like just another friendly co-worker, another someone outside the team…
Oh well. He could always hope.
Sighing again, he glanced up at the clock. A smile formed.
At least he stayed for over 5 minutes this time.
TBC
R/R- you know you want to ..
