He was ok.

"Sanders you alright?" Brass called out as he and three others cops struggled against the irate prisoner, dragging him back to his seat and practically sitting on him to get him to stay still long enough for Greg to get the sample he needed.

"Yeah. Fine" Greg stammered, Brass's voice bringing him out of the temporary stupor that surprise had caused. With a quick practiced movement he deftly collected a new swab from his kit and ran it around the restrained man's mouth, neatly stepping back as a swift kick was aimed at his front.

"Thank you Mr Jones. I'll come back when you've calmed down and we can have another little chat" Brass left his staff to finish restraining the suspect and followed Greg outside into the corridor. "You sure you're ok, that looked like quite a bang you got" he asked, like the other CSI's the tough cop found himself worrying about Greg. This job was dangerous when you were in full health, with twins due in a little over three months, Greg's body could not take a knock like that without reacting.

"Yeah, just got the wind knocked outta me that's all. No permanent damage" the half Norwegian smiled lopsidedly and turned to go, taking the swab back to CSI and Wendy in the DNA lab.

"Best to get the doc to look at you when you get back. Safeties sake" Brass called, he watched Greg wave his hand in agreement and leave.

"Hey Gil" Brass stepped into the supervisors office and hour later, he'd come over to CSI to check on the progress of Mr Jones results.

"Jim" Grissom answered curtly; he was nose deep in some report, more than likely one involving his favourite topic – entomology.

"Sanders ok?" the cop asked, the recent events had been nagging at him, he knew if he told Grissom something would defiantly happen, Greg was his science fair project at the moment.

"Greg? Why do you ask" Gil looked up, why would Brass suddenly be asking about Greg.

"You know after the knock he got in holding I wanted to make sure he was … he didn't tell you did he?" Brass stopped mid-sentence as he watched the senior scientist's expression change to concern.

"No but I think you better had" He stated quietly, putting the report down and focusing fully on his friend.

"Greg!" Grissom called, the young man looked up from the evidence he was processing as Grissom entered the small lab and planted his hands on the desk.

"Hi I was just finishing up…"

"Why didn't you tell me what happened at the station?" the supervisor interrupted

"Sorry?" Greg was confused

"Jim just told me what happened this morning, you banging into the wall and getting the wind knocked out of you"

"Oh that. I didn't think it was a big deal"

"Not a big deal! You know that the slightest knock could cause you to miscarry or go into labour"

"Yeah but it didn't. I felt a bit light headed for a few seconds then I was ok"

"What do I have to do to get you to see just how delicate you are right now? Ok you feel fine now, but what if you're not. What if something happened in there and you're bleeding internally right now" both men were standing at this point voices raised.

Anger surged through Greg's veins as he glared back at this boss "And what do I have to do to get you to treat me normally? I am sick and tired of being prodded and poked and having people ask me if I am ok every five minutes. Ok I'm pregnant and I'm a guy which means I shouldn't be pregnant and possibly for that reason I am more vulnerable than most expectant mothers but if I say I feel fine and I choose not to tell you about some incident that happened this morning because I don't think of it as a big deal I expect you to accept that. I am an adult human being, not some manikin that you can position however you choose and get out of the box whenever you want to run an experiment. I know your just trying to keep me safe and I appreciate that fact but I am quite capable of looking after myself, if I had felt even the slightest twinge after banging into that wall I would have gone to see Dr Robbins and get it checked out, with or without your approval…" suddenly Greg's expression changed from one of anger to panic as he doubled up and cried out in agony. His stomach contracted painfully and he heard himself scream out "It hurts, oh god it hurts!" before Grissom was at his side helping him to sit down and contacting Al Robbins, something was clearly wrong.

"He's ok. Nothing obviously wrong, it's possible that something got bruised this morning and then the shouting match he had with you caused a surge in blood pressure which caused a few contractions. He will need to rest for a few days though. At home if possible" Dr Albert Robbins stood outside Grissom's office with the supervisor explaining the results of his examination of Greg, who now sat in Grissom's office quietly.

"That will be fine; he has some holiday time to use up before he goes on leave. I'll quietly suggest he takes it" the bearded scientist nodded and thanked his friend.

He had been concerned and trying to make Greg see sense about getting hurt and had in fact caused more damage. Yes Greg had banged his stomach in the holding cell but he had been sitting quietly processing samples ever since, letting his body heal any injury. He should have known that Greg could look after himself.

He opened the door to his office quietly "Greg. I've just spoken to Dr Robbins. He says you're going to be ok but you need to take it easy for a few days. I suggest you take a week's holiday, starting now. Go home, put your feet up" Greg didn't reply, he was leaning dejectedly against his boss's desk and absently playing with a small piece of lint "Did you hear me?" Gil asked gently, he didn't want to upset Greg again; his body couldn't take another blood pressure spike without the babies being harmed.

"Yeah" Greg murmured quietly, continuing to play with his lint

"Do you need me to take you home, call your parents?"

"My mom's coming up to see me tomorrow. Guess I'll have more time with her than I thought" Greg spoke in a monotone, not really caring what he was saying.

"Is there someone that can keep you company tonight? Until you feel a little better?" Gil tried again but Greg just buried his head further and clammed up. He was tired and depressed. He had been so sure that nothing could go wrong, that he was indestructible and now his body had shown him that that wasn't true and he didn't know what to do.

Word of what had happened spread quickly through the CSI building causing Nick Stokes to come running towards his boss' office as soon as he got back from the field. "I just heard about Greg, is he ok?" the Texan asked concern shinning in his dark eyes.

"Medically he's fine. Mentally I'm not so sure" Grissom sighed. He understood evidence; inanimate objects spoke to him every day, but he didn't get people. Greg had been uncharacteristically quiet since the scare and the supervisor didn't know what to do, he was way out of his depth on this one.

"Where is he? Did you take him home?" Nick wanted to know what Grissom was talking about; it seemed like such a strange thing to say.

"I offered. It's like he's shut down, he's just sitting in my office playing with lint and not saying anything. I don't want to force him to do anything he doesn't want to…" Grissom sounded worried, plagued by the guilt that it was him losing his temper that had caused Greg's pain.

"How about I talk to him, take him home. I'm off the clock now anyway, I can stay with him till his mother arrives tomorrow" Nick smiled easily and quietly entered the office, he had no idea what he was going to say but he was going to help his buddy. Somehow.

"So are you just going to sit there for the rest of the day?" Nick asked, Greg was leaning forwards as far as the desk would allow, his legs parted to allow for the bump. He looked miserable.

"I can't move, I'll lose the babies" Greg replied, clearly distressed,

"You won't lose them, doc says your fine." Greg didn't respond "You just need to take it easy for a couple of days." Nick pulled a chair over and sat down next to his friend.

"How am I supposed to do that?" the junior investigator asked sullenly

"By letting me take you home, eating bad food, watching a movie or two and then letting your mom look after you for a few days until you feel better" the Texan spoke levelly, keeping his voice steady and soothing, gently coaxing Greg back to whatever it was that he called normal.

"I can't. I have to tidy the flat and go shopping for food and get some washing done and I don't know what else before she gets here tomorrow. All I really want to do is curl up on the sofa and go to sleep and forget about today" Greg felt the first hot tear run down his cheek, everything was messed up.

"Your mom will understand if you don't get that stuff done. If you just want to spend the week sitting on the sofa and taking it easy and getting better she'll be ok with that. She will just want you to feel better, believe me." Nick rested his hand on Greg's shoulder and waited for a response.

"I guess you're right. My mamma does love to take care of me" he offered his companion a damp smile and carefully pushed himself upright, wincing slightly as a small contraction tensed his stomach muscles.

"Come on lets go home" Nick stood up and helped Greg get slowly to his feet. Then together they slowly walked down to the garage and Nick's car.

Later that evening as Greg lay curled up on his sofa, in pyjamas, with a blanket wrapped around him and a big fat pillow supporting his back the phone rang. Knowing his friend wasn't feeling like talking to anyone at the moment Nick answered and spoke politely to his best friend's mother.

"Hello, Greg Sander's phone"

"Who is that?"

"Mrs Sanders? It's Nick Stokes, Greg's friend"

"Oh where's my little Greggy, is he ok?"

"He's just fine, just not feeling very talkative tonight that's all"

"Really. What happened?"

"What makes you think anything happened?" Nick couldn't believe this woman, right to the point was not the word.

"Listen Nick. I know my son, and if he doesn't want to talk to me it means something is wrong. Now I suggest you tell me the problem so that we can move on to the solution. It's something to do with the pregnancy isn't it?"

"Yes… but I don't want you to worry. Greg and the babies are absolutely fine." He waited for her to reply but only found silence; clearly she was waiting for an explanation. He cleared his throat, trying to think of the best words to use. "There was an incident at the lab today, Greg got a bit of a bang against a wall and …well… it caused a scare. He's alright though, the doc checked him out. I think he's just feeling a little sorry for himself at the moment"

"I see. Well it sounds like he's got a good friend looking after him. Thank you for being so honest."

"I figured it would be better if you knew the truth. He's worried that you are expecting him to have cleaned up and got food in and everything. I think he is also worried about collecting you from the airport tomorrow"

"That sounds like my Greg. Well you tell him this from me, he is not to worry about anything, and I will happily come along tomorrow and do whatever needs doing. I want him to concentrate on getting better. As for getting from the airport, I believe they still have these things called taxi's in Las Vegas…"

Nick chuckled, clearly Greg got his sense of humour from his mother, he wondered what else he got from her, he'd never seen any pictures of the two of them together "I tell you what, I'll come and get you tomorrow, it's my day off anyway and the taxi's round here cost an arm and a leg…"

"What is that in American Dollars?" Ingrid asked unable to stop herself making a joke. Nick laughed louder now, he'd been talking to this woman for 10 minutes and already he felt like he'd known her a lifetime. He'd felt the same way when he'd first met Greg Sanders 10 years ago, friendship was instantaneous and permanent.

After he'd finished writing down the details of the flight and getting Ingrid's mobile number Nick returned to the front room where Greg was busy watching a movie. "What's on?" he asked indicating the screen as he pushed Greg's feet out of the way and sat down.

"My stepmom's an alien" Greg replied quietly, taking his thumb out of his mouth just long enough to get the movie's title out.

"I just talked to your mom. I'm gonna collect her tomorrow at 11am. Ok?" Nick asked. Greg nodded, still sucking his thumb. It wasn't a habit that bothered Nick; clearly it was how Greg comforted himself when he was scared or ill.