By
Mischief_555
AKA Eric Szmanda Fan
DISCLAIMER: I own Maggie Grissom and the plot. Everyone else belongs to Zuiker and his buddies.
FEEDBACK: I accept constructive criticism only. Flamers can flame me all they want. I'm not listening to them. In fact, they mean nothing to me.
SPOILERS: Only if you haven't watched season two of "CSI."
Just Between Us
Greg was exhausted by the time he finally managed to take a break from the scuba case. And to him, there was only one thing that could cure exhaustion, even if it was only temporarily.
Coffee! With sugar! LOTS of sugar!
He was in the middle of pouring a cup of his special blend when Catherine Willows approached.
"Hey! Coffee boy! Where's my D.N.A.? Cigarette butt. Match book. Time delay device. Hair spray. Any of these sound familiar?" Willows asked, full of attitude.
"Bags under the eyes. Coffee cup. Stressed face. Any of these sound familiar?" Greg snapped. Who did this woman think she was?
Catherine gave him an irritated look, so Greg relented. He knew better than to give Catherine attitude while she was working on a case.
"I'm working on it."
"Did Grissom put his stuff in front of mine?"
Greg shook his head. "No. I'm working on your case. With Nick." He held out the coffee pot when Catherine's attitude worsened. "Coffee? I'll let you try some of my special blend."
Catherine simply huffed, spun around on her heels, and stormed out of the room.
"You're welcome!" Greg shouted.
Catherine stormed down the hallway, fuming. It was one thing when she had thought that Sanders had put Grissom's case in front of the scuba case. It was completely different when Cat had learned that Nick had decided to bring the lab tech into the case without asking her permission.
Catherine entered the area she and Nick and deemed the Scuba Room and found Stokes working on a piece of equipment.
"I just talked with your partner. Working this case without me, huh?"
"Hmm?"
"Greg Sanders?"
Nick scoffed. "Le'go my Greggo. He's a C.S.I. wannabe. Please."
Stokes would have immediately regretted saying that, had he noticed Greg standing in the doorframe, a hurt expression on his face.
Maggie was worried. This was a feeling she was used to, given the fact that her father often worked on dangerous cases. But this time, it was different. Because this time, she was worried about the man she happened to be dating.
Greg had been acting strangely ever since he had returned from his "mission" to obtain a cup of coffee. Maggie had brought up the fact that Greg had told her that he'd be working on the scuba case with Nick. He simply shrugged, saying, "Changed my mind." Then, when Maggie decided to pry a little further, Greg shot her a look - a very annoyed look - then sat at his usual station and sifted through the large pile of paperwork in front of him.
They had remained silent for several moments before Maggie decided to see what was wrong. She straddled her swivel chair and faced Greg. "All right, Sanders. What's wrong?"
"Huh?" Greg asked, still absorbed in his work.
"Well, you're being quiet."
"I'm working," Sanders replied, his voice even.
"I can see that. But you haven't even played that awful, loud music yet."
"Just don't feel like it."
Maggie stared at Greg intensely. Something was wrong, and she was determined to find out what it was. "C'mon, Greg. Just between us? You're no fun when you're upset."
Greg huffed and spun his chair around, facing his assistant. "Let me ask you something. Do you think I'm a C.S.I. wannabe?"
"What?" "Do you?" "Greg, when you really think about it, every lab tech in this building is a C.S.I. wannabe. You're acting like that's a bad thing."
Greg turned away, muttering, "You wouldn't understand."
"What?" Maggie inquired, pulling herself toawrd Greg. She folded her hands in front of her and rested her chin on them. "Who called you that?"
Sanders' jaw tightened. "Nick."
"Nick?!"
"That's what I said."
Maggie shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he'd say that."
"Yeah. Well, he did. End of discussion. Let's go back to work." He looked at her and noticed that she was chewing on her bottom lip. "What're you thinking?"
"I'm thinking...I could use something to eat." She stood and looked down at Greg. "Want anything?" Greg shook his head. "Well, all right, then. See ya."
"See ya."
Maggie was seething when she entered the Lounge. In fact, she was so angry, she almost ran over Nick, who was exiting the room with a hot cup of coffee.
"Hey!" Nick protested.
Maggie didn't apologize. She merely opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of Snapple. Kiwi-Strawberry, her favorite. She shook it violently as she approached the couch and sat down.
"Okay. What's wrong?" Nick asked, sipping his coffee. Maggie gave him an evil look as she continued to shake the bottle. "Uh-oh. Sanders giving you a hard time again?" Stokes asked, sitting across from Maggie, who opened the bottle and took a sip. "I'l take that as a no."
"So, Sanders is a C.S.I. wannabe, huh?"
"What are you talking about?"
Maggie scoffed. "You don't remember calling him that?"
Nick thought for a few moments. "Yeah. I called him that. No big deal."
"No big deal?! Nick, he heard you."
Stokes' face fell. "Oh."
"Damn right, 'Oh.' I can't believe you'd say that, Nick. You're supposed to be his best friend."
"I am!"
"Then why would you say that?"
"I was kidding!"
"Maybe you were, but you should have considered Greg's feelings before you opened your big mouth!" Maggie snapped.
Nick waved his hands around defensively. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I know you feel you have to defend Greg, but don't make something out of nothing."
"It may be nothing to you, Stokes, but you hurt him when you said that. He was really excited about working with you. He has all this knowledge when it comes to scuba diving, and you took it for granted. You are taking him for granted."
Nick opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off. "You C.S.I.s are so arrogant. You think that you're the only ones who solve crimes. Well, you're not. You know what the sad thing is, Nick? All I've ever wanted to be was a C.S.I., just like my father. But let me tell you something, Stokes. If being a C.S.I. means that you think you have the right to put other people down, just because they don't gather evidence, I don't want to be a C.S.I."
Nick sighed, realizing just how much he had hurt Sanders. "Where is he?"
"In the lab."
"I'll talk to him," Nick said, standing.
"If I were you, I'd think of a really good apology. If not for him, then for me. It's no fun working with him when he's like this, and you don't have to be cooped up in a room with him for hours on end."
Standing in the doorframe, Nick said, "He's lucky, you know. To have someone like you."
Maggie faced Nick and smiled. "Flattery will get you nowhere."
Maggie waited fifteen minutes, hoping that when she returned to the lab, everything would be normal again.
That, however, was not to be.
When she entered the lab, Maggie found Greg leaning on the table, his arms crossed. She had thought about back-pedaling her way out of there, but she really wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Did Nick talk to you?" she asked, shyly.
Greg nodded. "He did. He apologized. One question, though. What does, 'Just between us' mean to you?"
"I'm sorry! I just wanted to help."
"Next time, mind your own business."
Maggie glared at him, trying to control her anger. Greg was lashing out at her, and she really wanted to avoid a fight. Keeping her voice calm, she said, "And what? Let you mope around, feeling sorry for yourself? I'm sorry, Greg, but I can't do that."
"Why not? You were able to do that before we started dating!"
"Because I care about you, Greg. Because whenever I see you like this, I..."
"You what?" Greg challenged.
Maggie looked down, avoiding his eyes. "Nevermind."
"Look, from now on, just mind your own business. I can take care of myself," Greg said, turning away.
"Fine. No problem. You know why, Greg? Because we're through. If you can't appreciate what I tried to do for you, then I don't think we should be involved. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if we should even work together!"
She stared at Greg's back for a few moments, waiting for a reaction.
Waiting for him to beg her to reconsider.
Instead, she was greeted with silence.