wow...when I first got into csi fanfiction (about six months ago), I never read slash - i wasn't against it or anything, it just never really appealed to me, but now thanks to Raine, Lolly4Holly, and QueenOfTheUniverse, I've jumped on the bandwagon and wrote this oneshot over the weekend...it's not perfect, but I'm fairly proud of it, due to my rookie-ness in the romanceyslashy area =D I feel like I should dedicate this to someone...I think Raine, cuz she just rocks...well, I know lots of awesome people, but she's the one who's a huge slash fan...so, yeah, this one's for Raine!
I own nothing! well, except the mistakes (this is un-Beta'd)...and of course the actual piece!
This lil ficlet is set in Season eleven, based around an episode called A Kiss Before Frying that doesn't air until January 20th 2011. So everything that it says happens in the case (which isn't much) is purely speculation, so no spoilers, I guess. Also, I recommend listening to Augustana by Boston...just in general, not for any particular reason. It does go well with this ficlet though =)
I think that's everything...enjoy everyone!
"He's been in there for almost an hour, someone has to go talk to him," Catherine sighed, exasperated. She, Nick and Hodges were all sitting in the break room, every so often glancing through the glass walls to the DNA lab. Greg was sitting in his old chair, the one he hadn't been in for almost six years. There wasn't any music playing and the silence rolled through the halls undisturbed. The Las Vegas Crime Lab hadn't had a proper DNA tech since Wendy left, and although Hodges and Henry had tried to get through everything, they had their own jobs to do and the backlog had quickly piled up. But over the course of the past hour, they'd watched the large pile slowly get smaller and smaller as Greg quickly and methodically ran each sample.
It seemed almost too methodical. Like a clockwork toy that kept going until it broke.
"No, let him work it off. He'll get over it. It's just a girl," Nick said tiredly. Catherine's mouth fell open.
"Are you out of your mind? This wasn't just some girl, Nick, you saw the look on his face when-" She cut herself off, not going into details. "I can't believe you're choosing today of all days to be an ass? Nicky, what in the hell-"
"I'm not being an ass! That's how he gets through stuff, Catherine, he works it off! Gets back into things as soon as possible and is back to normal in a week. Or was I the only paying attention when things went bad?" Catherine was shaking her head now. Hodges, sensing that things were going to blow if he didn't try to diffuse the situation, cut off Catherine's razor sharp reply.
"Now," Hodges said, frowning, "I'm the first person to admit I'm not great at emotions and feelings and…stuff, but c'mon, Nick, that was pretty harsh."
"I'm going to talk to him," Catherine said suddenly. "I've known him just as long as you, Nicky, and I'm not just gonna let him "work through it" by himself." She got up, rising smoothly from her chair.
"No, don't," Nick said quickly, rising too. Hodges got up more slowly, looking cautiously between the two. He was afraid if he made a sudden move it would set them both off and all hell would break loose. "Let…let me go." The moment hung in the air for a few seconds, then Catherine closed her eyes, stepping back, letting him pass through.
"Don't say anything stupid," Catherine warned after him. She didn't have a good feeling about this; even after fifteen years as a CSI, Nick still seemed to lack basic common sense at the best of times.
"We should, uh, probably give them some privacy," Hodges said uncertainly. Catherine sighed.
"Believe me, Hodges, this isn't going to end well and I don't want to be around when the fireworks go off. Besides, Lindsay's sleeping at a friends, she's going to want picking up soon."
"And I have more important things to do…the work of a trace tech is never done," Hodges said profoundly.
They crossed paths with Nick on their way out as he made his way across the short distance to what used to be Greg's lab. Nick stood in the doorway, clearing his throat to make his presence known. Greg had donned the same, long, white coat Nick hadn't seen him wearing in over half a decade. His artfully striped blue shirt (one of Nick's favourites) and the way his sandy-brown hair was beginning to outgrow it's shorter style reminded Nick so much of a much more care free Greg, full of fun. The Greg he fell in love with.
But now it was all wrong. There was no music throbbing throughout the lab – music he used to hate, but was suddenly missing. Greg was very pale, and his dark eyes were wide and hollow. The powder-blue tie he had worn on a date with her just hours ago had been torn from his neck, screwed up and slung into the bin, where it hung looking rather sorry for itself.
But most importantly, Greg wasn't smiling.
"Kinda busy here," Greg muttered, barely looking up. Nick watched him for a few seconds, noticing how the test tube he was holding seemed to shake in his grasp.
"The evidence isn't going anywhere," Nick joked. He licked his lips. "I need to talk to you."
"Then talk." Nick couldn't remember Greg ever sounding so…bitter.
"…Look, G, none of us wanted it to end like that." Greg still didn't look up, inserting the tiny test tube into a large, humming machine that was producing the only sound in the room. He didn't reply. Nick wondered vaguely why he'd made himself go in when Greg so obviously didn't want company.
"C'mon, bro, talk to me," Nick said, voice only slightly above a whisper. Look at me.
"Why are you even here?" Greg said suddenly. "What is there to say?" Nick tried to interrupt, but Greg didn't give him the chance. "You came here to say sorry?" He spat out the word like a curse. "You want me to know that I'm not alone, that there's plenty more fish in the sea, that everything will just blow over? That in a week or two, I'll be back to meaningless flirting and playing video games every night until I pass out on the couch?" Greg stopped for breath, turning back to his work. He could feel Nick's eyes on him, tracking him; they seemed to be able to see all the way through him. He just wished Nick would leave.
"But that's just it, Greggo. You're gonna get through this, you know it."
"If you think that's true, then why are you even here?" Greg countered. He felt dizzy. Sick. The only thing that was keeping him going was the mountain of work next to him. His hands did everything without him needing to think, falling easily into the habits he'd walked away from six years ago. He didn't know what to do. The machine bleeped, echoing in the silence and Greg walked quickly over to the machine, removing the tube.
This time, Greg wasn't sure this was something he could just get through.
"Greg, just look at me," Nick murmured. Greg didn't move. Without thinking about what he was doing, Nick crossed the room in one swift movement and cupped a hand under his chin, lifting Greg's head to look at him. His eyes truly were amazing, warm and dark brown, and shining with tears. Red at the edges from being rubbed dry so much. Nick could only watch as the tears fell to the ground, wishing he had the courage to wipe them away. Greg couldn't comprehend what was going on, but he wasn't about to try and stop it. The moment was beautiful, perfect. "I need you to listen to me," Nick said slowly. "I know that you fell way too hard for her, but you have to believe me, Greg. She was just a pretty face." Greg froze. "She doesn't mean anything anymore, and now you-"
"Just a pretty face," Greg echoed quietly. The atmosphere turned dark, suddenly freezing. Greg felt like he was choking. "Doesn't mean anything," he managed to get out. The test tube Greg forgot he was holding left his grasp suddenly, hurtling to the floor, shattering. "Do you even hear yourself?"
"Greg-" Nick began, alarmed, but it was far too late.
"Of course, it never occurred to you that she was something more than that? That maybe she was special, that, y'know, maybe she actually meant something to me! That maybe I'm not some kind of idiot that would end up almost getting killed just because a hot girl showed up. No, you just came here to say "I told you so." Tell me that you were right, as usual. God forbid you actually…you even care."
"You know that's not true!" Nick protested, getting riled up. He was trying to help; he'd never done anything wrong, and now he was the bad guy. The case hadn't actually been that easy on him, and he'd reached his limit. No one seemed to have remembered that he had been where Greg was now, more than ten years ago. "But yeah, actually, I was right, I tried to warn you, and now she's dead. Don't you just feel so much better?"
Greg's fist lashed out of its own accord, smashing under Nick's jaw. Nick fell back, completely blind-sided, scrambling up against the wall. Greg leaned his face in close to Nick's, and Nick could only think that this was the first time he had seen Greg actually lose his rag.
"You can say what you want about me," Greg spat. "But she was way, way, more than just a pretty face."
Greg turned away, kneeling down to pick up all the fragments from the test tube, muttering something about contamination. Nick stared at him, feeling very slightly afraid, his jaw throbbing. He never knew Greg could hold his own like that, but that wasn't important right now.
It wasn't meant to be like this.
Then Greg let out a low, shocked hiss, cursing under his breath. Nick's eyes followed his gaze to the blood that was flowing from a long cut across his palm, eyes widening in alarm.
Nick moved slowly, kneeling down next to Greg who was staring blankly between his hand and the bloodstained piece of glass on the ground. Nick gently eased Greg back into his worn chair, pulled up a stool for himself, and reached for one of the small, bright red first aid kits kept in each lab. He opened it and pulled out a bandage, slipping it out of its plastic wrapping. Nick hesitated, swallowed dryly and took hold of Greg's hand. As gently as he could, he began to wrap the bandage tightly, glancing up at Greg to make sure he didn't hurt him. But Greg's eyes were far away; he barely even winced.
"They didn't need to kill her," Greg said quietly, eyes cast downwards. Nick didn't answer. Greg didn't seem to understand, even now, that she had been the bad guy. She'd been trying to get away, she'd had a gun…they didn't have a choice. Nick had been at the forefront, he'd seen everything. He'd told Greg to hang back, stay in the car even; he didn't have a gun, and besides, they already knew that the ending was going to be ugly. But Greg hadn't listened, and the shots had been fired just as he'd come around the corner. Nick couldn't forget the look on Greg's expression when he'd seen the blood.
The utter tragedy in his face as he'd tried to run to her but the officers had held him back, yelling. Nick had just stood there. As selfish as it was, he couldn't bear to go to Greg when he was making it so obvious this girl meant so much to him.
Greg was still lost in his own thoughts. His last memory of her was of the dark red blood seeping across her body, the flashing sirens, the policemen pulling him back. He didn't stop struggling until Brass finally yelled at him; said it was too late.
Said he was sorry.
Greg came back to the present and looked down at his palm, as if seeing the wound for the first time. He felt the sharp, stinging pain make its way through the fog of his consciousness, and then something else; Nick's hand underneath his, warm and soft. Greg stayed perfectly still, watching Nick work until he finished the bandage with a flourish. Greg almost smiled. Then, slowly, Greg turned his hand over and enveloped his slender hand with Nick's larger one.
Nick looked down at their interlinked hands, not knowing what to do. He'd thought about this moment so much, but never really concentrated on what happened after that. Normally, he guessed he would've made some kind of lame joke, but this was hardly the time for that. So, instead, he gently squeezed Greg's hand, and smiled when he felt Greg grip back tightly.
He felt Greg make to stand up, so he let go of his hand instinctively, trying not to blush. Trying harder not to cry. Nick got to his feet too, sighing deeply - then realising that Greg's hand had flicked out and caught hold of his again. Puzzled, Nick opened his mouth to say something, and then felt Greg's lips meet his. It was soft, warm, and sweet - and in Nick's opinion, far too short. But it was definetly worth the wait. Greg tasted honeysweet; beautiful.
He leant into the older man, head nestling in the crook of Nick's shoulder. Greg's head was spinning and he didn't know what was happening or how it happened, but the strangest thing was how right it felt. Everything else seemed to fall away as he felt Nick lightly press a kiss onto his forehead. In this position, he could hear Nick's fast, throbbing heartbeat, beating even faster than his own. He tilted his head to look up at Nick, as if to say "What happens now?" He didn't want these feelings to disappear, didn't know what he was supposed to do now.
Nick looked down at Greg's slightly parted lips, the pale face with a slight flush to the cheeks, the straight line of his nose, and the brown eyes he wished didn't look so lost – and Nick smiled, because for once, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. The very words Greg never knew he wanted to hear.
"C'mon, Greggo. Let's go home."
So, yay or nay? Please review either way; reviews fill me with warm fuzzles of loveness! Thank you xD !