Thanks for the reviews! I've wanted to write a subtext story for a while. :P But the subtext's gotta lead somewhere, right? Oh yeah – different case every chapter, unless I say so…or if I forget, if it's obvious…Anyway, I know now the REAL reason people get betas- there story ends up so damn boring after a while, they can't stand to read through it any longer…-rolls eyes- And Greg doesn't loathe Sara...So don't worry. :P

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Secrets were okay. Hell, sometimes secrets were really helpful. Like when he was fooling around with his best friend at sleepovers and telling his parents they were just really close friends. So if you were to say he was a fan of secrets, it wouldn't be a lie.

Lies are okay, too. He's not always supportive of lies, but they're there, and again, they were sometimes really helpful. But in this case, Greg hated them both. He loathed secrets for keeping his feelings to himself, and he loathed lies because he didn't exactly tell Sara what was going on.

Actually, maybe he just loathed Sara. There had been so many times where the two had been in loads of situations Greg would've loved to see through to the end, but then she'd come along and ruin it. And that's probably where his logic for his next idea came from. If he told Sara, that would mean that she'd know, and maybe would stop walking in on them. Which would mean that maybe, if he was lucky, he'd finally get around to admitting something. Or maybe he wouldn't have to, and Nick would stop being so clueless. Or maybe he'd admit it on his own...

"Greg, your phone's ringing," Catherine said, standing up as she sighed. "Greg!"

"Huh?" he asked, lost in his own world. Even the vibration didn't seem to faze him, and it was in his back pocket. "Oh, sorry…" he answered, only to hear a very pissed off Texan on the other end.

"You're switching cases with Warrick," he said; Greg swore he could feel the heat from his sentence over the phone.

"What? Why?" Nick and Warrick seemed to get on all the time, with a few exceptions about feuds over cases, but other than that…

"I'll tell you when you get here. And if Catherine has a problem, tell her I told her to shove it. I'm not in the mood for any more shit today," Greg nodded and stared at his cell after Nick hung up and sighed as he flipped it shut.

"What's up?"

"Warrick and I are switching cases," he said simply, packing up his kit, worried that the sudden shaking of his hands would be obvious. Greg glanced out of the corner of his eye, noticing Catherine putting her hands on her hips with a scoff.

"You're mine,"

"I like to think I'm my own property," he said, though inside he was wishing someone would have the guts to say it. Wished that he could have someone in his life. "I mean, all those lonely nights after shift, I don't see anyone following me home to comfort me,"

"I don't see you looking for someone to play comfort with,"

Greg shrugged, deciding it wasn't worth it. "I like destiny to play out," was that why he hadn't dated in seven years, hadn't really tried in over a decade? He sighed as Catherine started ranting about the lab, standing up and leaving with a wave.

He was barely in his Denali when Warrick's name flashed on his caller ID. He answered it, hardly registering the directions he was given. When he tried to give directions to the scene he was at, Warrick managed an angered, 'Yeah, I know, thanks,' before hanging up. He vaguely wondered what had crawled up everyone's ass – probably the same thing that had plagued Ecklie for years – as he started on his way.

Greg arrived twenty minutes later, the voices of Catherine and Warrick echoing in his head as he wondered who or what they'd be talking about. Or, knowing the sexual tension, if they'd be talking at all.

Still consumed by his own thoughts, he was caught off guard when he saw Nick leaning against his Tahoe, eyes closed, shaking his head. A police officer was standing at the other end of the yard, looking oddly uncomfortable. "Hey!" Greg called, stepping out of his car and onto the pavement, grabbing his kit from the passenger seat. "What's up?"

"You have no idea what this means to me," Nick said gratefully, walking towards Greg with a smile. "Warrick just kind of…"

"Stepped over the line?" Nick nodded helplessly as Greg watched intently, trying to decide what made everyone seem like a bitchy bunch of eighth grade girls. "Everything alright?"

"Now it is," Greg tried not to notice how his breath caught in his throat.

"It better be, Catherine's seething,"

"Everyone seems to be…" Nick muttered with a shake of his head. Greg raised an eyebrow, smiling when the Texan blushed, though he suddenly wanted it to be a week earlier, back at the dumpster.

"Let's hope they get better when we get back, huh?"

To be filled in on the rest of the case, Greg merely had to walk inside the house. There was an obvious smell of sex to the place, not to mention the pile of sex toys and condoms, lubrication…

"Orgy?" Greg asked, almost forming a smile until he remembered that there was a murder and a missing person tied to their case. Nick snorted as he raised his eyebrows. "So wait, what's the deal here? What happened…with Warrick?"

"Warrick said he'd noticed I was acting weird, and uh…" Greg stared as Nick scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Confronted me about it. I got…really…defensive, and he said he'd just leave,"

"Is…everything going to be okay?" Greg asked, truly concerned, even though he thought it was a little stupid to get so worked up over. It fluttered across his mind that maybe Nick wasn't telling him the truth, but he dismissed it when Nick nodded.

"As soon as one of us sets pride aside, yeah…" he sighed and turned to the crime scene. "So…"

"Yeah. I'll take the kitchen," Greg said, turning to leave, only stopping when Nick called out his name. "Hmm?" he said, looking over his shoulder.

"You don't have any witty comment?" Nick asked, amused look on his face. "Nothing to say about sex or lubrication or anything?" Greg smiled pleasantly and shook his head. "Alright…head off into your safe and clean kitchen then,"

"Will do," Greg smiled as he left for the kitchen. "Jeeesus!" he exclaimed, coming face to face with an amount of blood that could cover three of the living rooms. "Nick!"

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen the kitchen?" he pulled on a pair of gloves before he took out his camera, starting to take pictures of it.

"Not yet…Why?" Nick peeked around the corner and let out a low whistle. "Damn…"

"This has officially ruined it for me," Greg stated, shaking his head sadly. Nick gave him a confused look. Greg looked at him, keeping a straight face. "The sex parties. Oh come on, you can't tell me you haven't heard of them," Nick only raised his eyebrows. "Man…do they tell you anything in Texas?"

"I've heard of them, yeah. I'm just a little surprised,"

"That I have? Hey, gimme some credit…Just because I didn't get laid until I was 22 doesn't mean I don't know anything,"

"No, a little surprised that that's you're scene. I always thought you'd be one of those guys who, uh…didn't do the casual sex thing," Nick seemed a little disappointed, but Greg merely shrugged it off.

"Not anymore. But that seems to be the only thing the people I date want,"

"Maybe you should up your age, Greggo," Nick added, shaking his head as he walked back into the living room. He heard Greg snort as he went back to work.

"They wouldn't believe me, I already look younger than my age,"

"Oh, who told you that?"

"My mother did,"

"Awww," Nick smiled, slightly teasing him, though he had to give credit for Greg being so close to his mother. Sure, he talked to his parents and went home for the holidays, but other than that, Nick only saw his parents if he was willing to go to Texas.

"Hey, shut up, you'd be close to your mother too if your dad was at work nearly 24/7 and you were an only child," Greg protested, clicking pictures of the blood around him, almost wondering how he could continue talking as though there wasn't buckets of human blood around him.

"Yeah, yeah…And I didn't mean your age, I meant the ages of the people you date," Nick replied, immersing himself on trying to decide if any of the blood was real or not. High-quality stuff they've got if it's fake, he thought.

"What do you mean, start dating people older than me?" Greg sounded a little amused, and Nick wondered how he could flirt with Sara or Catherine with a relationship in mind if he was laughing at the fact of older women. Or maybe his mind was clouded with promises for sex. "Maybe I'll start with Mr. 'I have an accent and I'm damn sex--," he didn't get to finish his sentence, his phone blaring the ring tone loudly. "Shit." He said, paling automatically.

"What?" Nick asked from the other room, having not heard the last half of the younger's sentence, too involved in the scene.

"It's Grissom,"

"So? Answer it. It's my ass on the line, not yours," Greg nodded, knowing full well that Nick wouldn't be able to see him, and answered his phone.

"Sanders,"

"Greg, have Nick and Warrick put anything dead in your locker lately?" the question caught him off guard, and he almost dropped the camera in his hands.

"I don't think so…why?"

"I've gotten a few complaints. When was the last time you cleaned it out?" Greg swore under his breath when he realized that he had forgotten his dinner for the past few weeks, since the case he worked with Sara went over into his break. "A while ago,"

"I want you to clean it when you get back to the lab, I don't care if you're off the clock. It's really starting to smell," and the line went dead. Greg checked his phone and with a startling yelp, realized it was dead.

"What'd he want?" Nick asked from the living room, seeming to have forgotten about the conversation moments before.

"There's rotten food in my locker," Greg sighed, looking around the room.

"So at least he's not pissed, right?"

"Right," he couldn't help but get a familiar worry feeling in his stomach. "But he's going to think I hung up on him,"

"Why?" the Texan seemed curious, and as humiliating as it was, Greg decided to tell him.

"Because my phone went dead," he rubbed his eyes. "He's going to kill me,"

"Don't provoke him anymore, and you'll be fine. If worst comes to worse, I'll come to your rescue," Greg smiled at the promise.

"Ah, I always knew my Prince Charming would come one day," he sighed with slight happiness as Nick shouted that it wasn't real blood from the other room.