Disclaimer: I do not own any of the CSI cast. Plus I'm poor. So don't get your hopes up on receiving any money if you sue.

Greg gripped the steering wheel of his silver Jetta and slowly released it only to grip it even harder again. The radio blasted away a random rock song, the speakers pulsing in rhythm to the bass. This was it, no more waiting around.

With a sigh he killed the engine, exited the car, and entered the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Luckily, no one was in the break room yet and he sat down at the small table to gather his thoughts.

Since the day he'd arrived Nick had always been his friend. Greg didn't know exactly when he started thinking of Nick as something more, but then again, maybe the feeling had always been there, hibernating.

Nick, with his clean shaven face and perfectly trimmed dark hair, and not to mention an accent that drove him crazy. "Greg, run these blood samples for me, would ya?" Who knew something as simple as a request could make his stomach clench.

He shook his head, dragging his mind from its increasingly improper thoughts about a certain co-worker. He rose from the chair and went to grab a cup of coffee. Or rather, would have if it hadn't been empty. Greg slammed the pot down with a little more force than was necessary and started a new brew.

"Ah… Greg's coffee; just what I needed."

Greg tightened his hold on the coffee pot. 'Remain calm,' he told himself. 'It's only the man you- Shut up!' "Yeah, it seems no one around here knows how to even turn on the machine. Ironic really, some of the greatest minds in the country and none of them know how to make a pot of Joe."

Nick grinned. "None like my Greggo." He ruffled the younger man's hair before sitting down to read whatever Forensics Journal was lying around.

Greggo. He loved it when Nick called him that.

This was his chance, it was now or never. He took a deep breath and fiddled around with the sugar packets that were scattered on the counter. "So, Nick…" 'Just say it!' his mind screamed at him. "How 'bout them Astros?"

The older man looked up from his magazine and chuckled a bit before smirking. "Doing alright I s'pose. Didn't take you for a Houston fan."

"I'm uh- I… Well, no, not really." 'God that was stupid Greg,' he mentally berated himself. "I'm more of a … Rangers fan?"

"Now you've got the right team!"

Doc walked past the break room window on his way to the autopsy room. "Mmh! I've got to see a man about a dead body. I'll see ya Greg!" He gave a small wave and rose to leave.

"W-w-w-wait, Nick! Umm… what are you, I mean, are you doing anything after work? We could maybe get breakfast or something? I mean, if you want to that is." Greg reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Nick looked at Greg for a moment with a curious grin. "Yeah man, sounds great. I'll meet you in the locker room later."

It wasn't the life altering, mind blowing confession of love Greg had been working up the courage for but it was a step in the right direction. And for now, that would have to do.