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TITLE: Curiosity Didn't Kill The Cat (It Just Got Caught Red-handed)
PROMPT: 15 - Reflection
NOTES: Set shortly after Riley, Nick, and Greg start sharing the office. From Riley's POV, but it still focuses on Greg/Sofia (for the most part). Part of the baby!verse.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no profit. Just borrowing, will return them (relatively) unharmed.


Later, Riley would blame it on the job. She spent eight or more hours a day sifting through other people's belongings. Why would she feel guilty as she yanks open another drawer on Greg's desk? Besides, the office belonged to all three of them now and Greg went digging for office supplies or food in Nick's desk all the time – probably why there weren't any pens in Nick's top drawer when she had checked.

The top drawer had been a mess of blank forms and training pamphlets with page markers sticking out haphazardly. Then second drawer was full of odds and ends – an extra shirt, iPod ear buds, a set of keys, and a jumble of CDs that Nick had banned him from playing in the office before he had even attempted such an act. Riley herself didn't see what the big deal was, but then, as she looked at them now, most the band didn't seem familiar at all.

The bottom drawer was full of manuscripts, photocopied documents, and loose pieces of paper, all with Greg's untidy scrawl covering the margins. She picked up one, and after seeing it was an old newspaper article about the opening of the Rampart, she let it fall back into the drawer. She knew that her colleague was fascinated by all that Old Vegas stuff, but history was never her thing.

Feeling ready to abandon her search, she leaned back in the chair with a sigh. And that's when she saw them. Hidden behind the plastic dinosaur, was a mug ("world's best DNA analyst" and where had he ever found that?) stuffed full of Nick's plain black pens. Of course Greg would hide stolen property in plain sight.

Plucking a few pens from Greg's stash, Riley's eyes wandered across the other objects spread across the desk. Her father always said you could tell a lot about a man from his workspace. She couldn't quite decide what Greg's desk was telling her.

Besides the dinosaur and mug, there was a myriad of other knick-knacks – like a snow globe that housed a surf board and a small sign saying 'San Gabriel, CA.' One side of the desktop was covered in magazines ranging from the latest tabloid to the latest copy of the forensic journal.

But those weren't the things that were perplexing Riley. She knew Greg had a wide variety of interests – it wasn't like he was shy about sharing them. No, the thing that caught her attention most was the row of pictures lined across the desk. Smiling faces stared back at her, each photo peaking her curiosity more than the last.

On the left were pictures of what she assumed to be a young Greg. There was one with a gap-toothed kid sitting on his grandparents' laps and one with a gangly-teenager-Greg on a boat with his father. On the right were more recent pictures of Greg. One had Greg – his hair a bit more wild than Riley had ever seen – and various labrats squished together in a restaurant booth. Another was Greg sharing congratulatory drinks with their fellow CSIs, plus a few people that Riley couldn't place – maybe the Sara and Warrick they mentioned sometimes?

But the pictures that truly fascinated Riley were nestled right in the middle where they couldn't be missed. One was obviously an impromptu picture. Greg was caught mid-laugh, half-reclining on a couch, a tall blonde in his lap. Both had unkempt hair and were wearing work clothes. Boxes were scattered across the foreground of the picture and Riley could only guess that someone had been moving. Next to that was another picture of the blonde, this time in a simple sundress. There was a natural beauty in the picture as her bare feet rocked the porch swing and one hand rested on her swollen belly.

The last picture was the one that Riley couldn't seem to take her eyes off of. Greg was sitting on the same couch as before, this time a pink blanket spread across his lap. In his arms, a smiling baby was waving her tiny arms and giving a gummy smile that rivaled the one on Greg's face. He was holding her up, proudly showing off their matching band shirts, hers obviously custom-made. She had a short fringe of pale blonde hair, but the face undeniably made her look like Greg.

Riley leaned in closer, trying to reconcile baby-holding-Greg with work-Greg. Didn't they just have a conversation about hair-pulling and handcuffs a few weeks back? And all the goofing off and hazing him and Nick got into. Her mind just couldn't see Greg as a family man – yet there was the proof right in front of her.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?"

The handful of pens clattered to the floor as Riley jumped in surprise. She looked over to the doorway, seeing Greg leaning against the frame. "Which one?" she asked, glad that she didn't easily blush.

Greg shrugged. "I think both my girls are beautiful." He gave a wry smile and stepped over to the desk. "But then, I might be a bit biased."

"You think?" Riley asked back. She turned back to the photos, her gaze going back to the little girl in Greg's arms. "You never really mentioned them."

Greg shrugged again. "Sofia's a cop. I'm used to everyone knowing her and knowing that we're together."

"And her?" Riley asked, finger gesturing the photo.

A soft grin graced his face. "Elin Marie Sanders. I drove everyone crazy – before and after the birth – with the latest story. I even nicked the sonogram and had it pinned up in my locker 'til Sofia stole it back from me."

"I've never heard you talk about her. One time I heard you and Catherine talking about 'the baby', but I thought it was your niece or something."

"Like I said, I was driving everyone crazy. I started giving updates when people asked instead of boring them with an hour long stories. Then after Warrick . . ." his voiced trailed off for a moment, "it didn't seem right to be sharing happy stories at work. We were all pretty miserable for awhile there."

"So . . . how old is she now? I'm assuming she was born before I came and I've been here about four months now."

"She'll be seven months in a week," Greg replied, not even trying to hide the note of pride in his voice.

Riley looked at him and shook her head a bit, her gaze going back to the pictures.

"What?"

"It's just-" She tilted her head and regarded him with a critical eye. "You don't strike me as the family man, what with the kinky sex discussions and all."

Greg grinned. "Can I help it I'm a cool dad?"

Grinning as she rolled her eyes, Riley bent down to pick up the forgotten pens that had started this whole foray. "Tell you what, Cool Dad, you can tell me as many baby anecdotes as you want – as long as you never ask me to babysit."

"Deal. We'll go for breakfast after work and I can tell you everything."

Nick walked into the office as Greg all but bounced out the door. He smirked a bit at Riley.

"What?" She asked.

"You know what you just did?"

"Yeah, I think I got myself out of diaper duty for the foreseeable future."

Nick smirk widened. "Cath and Sofia's mom have every babysitting job claimed 'til that kid's in high school. You just got a raw deal, my friend." He chuckled a bit to himself and pulled open his top drawer, his brow furrowing. "Hey, where'd all my pens go?"

Surreptitiously angling the dinosaur to hide the mug full of Nick's pens, Riley gave a shrug and followed Greg out of the room.