I seem to be in a particularly fluffy mood lately, so here we go again, a quick one shot to make up for my lack of updating Breaking Point. It's another prompt given to me by my husband, this time it was "patches". At first, I was really annoyed with her for giving something to bizarre to work with, then the idea hit and the only thing I said practically for the rest of the day was "I love Patches".
So, please tell me what you think, whether it's good or bad or just that you need someone to talk to and this seems like a good way of going about it- I promise I won't charge any money.
And now, enough of my idiocy, and onto why you clicked on the link in the first place…
Patches
Nick looked up to see his boyfriend enter the break room and plop down gracelessly onto the old couch on the corner nearest to the coffee machine.
"You sure you're up to working tonight, G?"
The other man raised his eyes just high enough to glare at the Texan before letting them droop shut once more. He had woken up that evening to the wonderful feeling of a spinning head, dry and sore throat and his sinuses full of- well, he'd really rather not think of that.
He'd still gotten up with Nick, showered with Nick and had breakfast with Nick, but when the time had come to leave for work, he wasn't so sure he ought to leave with Nick, but as he was coming to the decision to call his boss, Grissom called him to tell him he was needed at the lab. He had to work DNA for the up-coming shift. Wendy's sister had apparently had an accident involving a staircase and a hammer, at least that was all Grissom had understood of their brief conversation on the phone.
"You had better be planning to pamper me tonight, Tex, or I'll infect you."
The seriousness of the threat was dimmed some by the adorable yawn that split his face right after and left him red faced and bleary eyed, which itself was muted by the atrocious sneeze to follow. He groaned and threw his head against the back of the couch, looking like a child in need of motherly affection.
"Aww! It's hard to feel sorry for you, G, when you look so damn cute!"
The sick one cracked one eye open and ground out, "Don't. Call. Me. Cute."
Nick parted his lips to answer- most probably something mocking- when the break room door opened to admit Grissom and Wendy herself.
"Heh, hey guys. Sorry about all of this, Greg. As it turns out it wasn't so bad after all. Her husband dropped the hammer down the stairs and it fell on her foot. By the time I got there Josh had already taken care of everything…I'm going to go to the lab now, just, I'm sorry."
Greg nodded his understanding and watched her leave. Grissom on the other hand seemed to clue in at that very moment as he looked up from the report he was reading to add his own two cents, and stopped short at the sight of his youngest CSI. "Greg, you're flushed. Are you sick?"
Nick answered for him, not liking the sudden murderous look on his boyfriend's face. "Yeah, he woke up sick this evening, but he's been getting worse and worse all night. I'm thinking it's probably going to get even worse before getting better…"
Greg whimpered at that before reaching out a hand to latch onto Nick's arm. "I'm cold."
Frowning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Greg's forehead. Pulling back sharply after a gasp, he pressed his hand in their place. "Jesus, Greg, you're burning up! Why didn't you say anything?"
The only response he got was another whimper and the feel of soft curls of hair nuzzling into his hand. "Grissom, he can't work like this, I won't let him."
"Calm down, Nicky, I know. Your place is on the way to my next crime scene, I'll drop him off."
Nick nodded and wrapped his arms around the Californian's torso, pulling him to his feet. He led him to the nightshift supervisor with a kiss to the forehead and the promise to rush home as soon as shift was done.
The few hours that had remained of his shift had been torturously slow, but they had passed, and when they did he immediately stopped pretending to be going over his report and headed home.
When he arrived, all of the lights seemed to be off and no sound was slipping beneath the door to greet him. He opened it and dropped his stuff as silently as he could. As he ventured further and further into his home he became more and more aware of his surroundings. The soft creaks of his steps on the hardwood floor, the whir of the air conditioner hard at work, the light sound of…sobs?
He pushed their bedroom door open and flicked on the light, and was greeted by the sound of his boyfriend's flushed face, fat tears rolling in streams down his cheeks from his unfocused brown eyes. His heart clenching painfully, he strode in and wrapped his arms around the crying man's waist, pulling him close.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
Greg sniffed, rubbing his tears onto his boyfriend's shirt before answering. "I…want…Patches!"
Nick was dumbstruck for a moment, until he remembered what 'Patches' meant. He walked to Greg's side of their closet, rummaged through the mess that had accumulated there and returned with a small stuffed giraffe that was- evidently enough- covered in small patches where time had worn its way into the fabric beneath. It had been Greg's favourite toy and blue time companion since childhood, and had seen him through many a sick day or night.
Expecting his lover to calm down as soon as he laid hands on the giraffe, he pushed it into his trembling hands. A frown began to form on his brow, and a scowl on his lips.
Dropping the giraffe to the floor, his arms flew out and latched onto Nick's waist, and without further ado, pulled him over to lie beside him. Rubbing his face onto Nick's shoulder, he muttered softly, "My Patches…"
Patting the top of his head lightly, Nick wrapped his free arm around Greg's shoulder and settled in for what he was sure was going to be a very long night.
That's it- no plot, no story, just fluff. Please review! Pleeeeeaaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeeee!!