Still don't own. Alas.
A little review was made that asked me if this was slash. As indicated in the summary it is not. I don't write slash fics. No offense to anyone in any way, I just don't write them. I can write out of character stuff, but just not slash. Not my forte either. Romances. Yeah. Enjoy! R&R! 3
Chapter 2
As the highway lines ran past under Grissom's eyes, time did not. At least not as fast. Grissom eventually got a headache from the marvelous, if not loud, pianoforte and turned it off. Greg did not protest and continued driving.
"How do you know how to get there?"
"Everyone knows how to get home Grissom. Even me." Grissom noted the tone of frustration at the obvious lack of knowledge of the man driving him. The whole team's lack actually. Greg never volunteered information, but he always offered some up when questions were asked. It seemed strange to Grissom that he himself had never been curious enough about Greg. He was about all his other employees, and Greg wasn't just a lab tech either. He was closer than that, almost a friend. But Grissom withdrew from that idea quickly and quietly. Greg did not want to be Grissom's friend. He told him that by the way he sat stiff and uninviting in the driver's seat next to him. Small talk was all Grissom could get out of Greg Sanders.
"Blue."
"Favorite food."
"Indian."
"Favorite dish."
"Chicken curry."
"Favorite book."
"The Metamorphosis, Kafka."
"Favorite era."
"Sixties-Seventies."
"That's two."
"I have two favorites." Grissom sighed. This was a game he'd played with his father before he died. Before he had to grow up. Before his mother left him but left an empty shell behind. Greg was a good player, but he bent the rules. Two favorites, don't like to pick favorites of that. Things that would have annoyed Grissom's father, Grissom accepted as a part of Greg's character.
"So your father teaches."
"Yep."
"And your mother?" He shrugged. "How can you not know?"
"She packed her bag and left when I was... 16. Yeah, 16. Fell in love with a poet in New York. Then moved to Italy. I lost track of her around junior year of college. She's hard to keep up with."
"I see." Grissom looked out the window, then back. "Are we there yet?" Greg rolled his eyes.
"Almost." Almost obviously meant yes because Greg quickly turned off on an exit reading Santa Gabriel. Grissom hardly noticed the change in scenery it was so fast. Cactus gave way to large leafy trees and rose bushes. "It used to be more.. desert-y. But now it's tourist-y. Makes it look nice I guess. We always had trees, just not on this road." He shook his head in disgust.
Grissom watched bed 'n breakfasts loom up and houses get bigger before his eyes. Greg turned down a few streets and parked in front of a yellow house with black shutters. "Your's?" He nodded. The front door opened and two young kids ran out.
"Come meet the family."