1Ch. 24
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Ten-thirty approached a lot sooner than Allie had wanted it to. Her hair was half-curled and her dress had shrunk in the washing machine. She frowned, untangling her necklace from another one. Then the doorbell rang. She cursed under her breath as Rufus started barking at the letterbox.
"Hey! Come on, dog...out of the way." She answered the door to Greg standing with a paper and a small bunch of flowers. He smiled. "Real white roses, huh? I'm more than a little impressed." She ran her fingers through her straight-side of hair.
"Yeah, I figured I may as well, seeing as we've never really had a proper date." He handed her the roses and walked onto her welcome mat. Allie fidgeted with her dressing-gown and shut the door.
"Thanks...uh, I'll be ready in a few minutes." She coughed.
Greg studied her. Her fluffy light-blue dressing-gown accentuated the tanned glow in her skin and the dark twinkle in her eyes. She looked him in the eye. "Greg?" She waved a hand in front of his face.
"Yeah?"
"Nothing...you kinda zoned out on me there." Allie laughed. Greg winked at her.
"Sorry. Won't happen again."
Allie eyed him suspiciously and then waltzed into her bathroom. "So, anything new?"
She shouted from the other room. Greg sat down on the couch next to a newly nestled-down Rufus. He spotted a Kerrang! Magazine and started reading it.
"Nope. Got my car booked in for next week. I'm off. You?"
"Uh...my dad told me what happened. He didn't do anything." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "Then again." She smirked. "I'm biased."
Greg laughed. "So, what are we seeing?"
"Um... You pick."
Greg flicked through the paper. He had wanted to go and see a horror, but figured Allie would prefer to see some sort of chick flick. "Hairspray?"
"Huh?"
"Hairspray. John Travolta-"
"No, no...I know, but what are you doing picking Hairspray? I would've thought Disturbia was more your scene."
"Oh. You wanna see that?"
"Mm...any other horrors?"
Greg grinned. It was almost as if she could read his mind. "Uh, Children Of The Corn?"
"1, 2 or 3?"
"Oh. 666."
"Ooh. No."
"Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?"
"Yes!" Allie walked out of the bathroom, hair completely curled and her fringe parted to the left. Her cherry red blouse and black pencil skirt hugged her figure attractively. White sequins covered her peep-toe high-heels. Greg sat, slack-jawed, staring up at her.
"You look..."
"Awful. Stupid hair-curlers packed up on me. Anyway," She sighed, pulling Greg up off the couch and hugging him. "How are you?"
"Great."
"Well, come on." She took his hand and led him to the front door, while lifting her bag off the coat rack. "Rufus!" She shouted to the dog, whose ears perked up. "I shall be back in approximately three hours." The dog barked in response and Allie nodded. Greg saluted the dog.
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Travelling along slowly in the car, Allie put the radio on to Pat Benetar - 'Love is a Battlefield'. Allie shouted gleefully and Greg rolled his eyes.
"Oh! Turn it up! I love this song!" She started banging her hands against the steering wheel. She twisted the volume up to eighteen. Greg poked his finger inside his ear. Allie laughed.
"Allie!"
"We are young!"
"Allie!"
"You know the words, man! Sing along!"
"Heartache to heartache, we stand! No promises - Take it Sanders!" She shouted above the music, pointing at Greg. He blinked, before swallowing.
"No demands." He knew he wasn't much of a singer, but he did hit all the right notes. Allie laughed, stopping when they came to a red light.
"Love is a battlefield."She took a swift look at Greg, who was drumming his hands on his legs in time to the music.
He noticed her watching him and started singing again. This time, they sang together.
"When you're losing control...will you stand in my way...or am I the best thing you've had? Believe me, believe me I can't tell you why...but I'm trapped by your love and- why'd you stop?"
"I'm a man! Men don't sing along to Pat Benetar with their girlfriends!"
"Oh..." Allie, still bobbing her head with the music, said, not knowing what else she could say. She remembered something and turned the music down. "By the way...wasn't I supposed to be meeting Papa Olaf sometime?"
"Yeah. If you want, I mean...no pressure." Greg smiled. Papa Olaf and Greg were almost the same person. Same taste in films, music, food, people...Greg knew it was unbearably cheesy, but Allie was the absolute double of his grandmother. Myrna Elliot emigrated from America to Norway when she was sixteen, where she met and fell in love with Olaf Hojem. She wasn't skinny, nor was she plump - same as Allie - and she had the same dark hair that looked great no matter what she did to it. The thing that was most similar was the eyes - almost black, with a hint of mischief behind them. Greg remembered a particular picture of his grandmother taken when she was twenty. Allie looked at Greg, who was still daydreaming out of the window.
"Greg?" She asked, softly. Greg turned round to look at her. She noticed a strange expression on his face. It was on of extreme contentment. She laughed. "What's up with you?"
"Oh...nothing. You just reminded me of someone is all. Hodges..." Greg trailed off, staring out of Allie's window. She scowled.
"I remind you of Hodges? What the hell kind of weird compliment is that?" She became slightly hysterical, her voice rising by three octaves.
"No! I didn't mean...Hodges. Over there!" He pointed to him sitting outside a hotel, three suitcases sitting beside him. Allie turned her indicators on and drove into the nearest parking space which, thankfully, was just beside Hodges. Allie rolled her window down.
"Yo, Hodges! You okay?"
Hodges looked up, frowning. "What are you and him doing here?"
Allie rolled her eyes. She hated it when Hodges referred to Greg as 'him'. Something about the way he just spat it out so venomously.
"We are going for something to eat. You look kinda-"
"The reason I look 'kinda', is because now, my weird aunt needs a...a guardian, if you will."
"Oh. I didn't know you had a weird aunt."
"Grindle, I..."
"Grindle - Grissom and Sidle. It's an internet fan-term. At least, I think that's what it'd be."
"Oh." Greg nodded, reminding himself to play this game later. He wondered what he and Allie would be...
"Nope. Nothing. Why?" Allie looked at Hodges through her mirror. He was smirking to himself.
"Oh...Sara seems off, apparently. And, now that you mentioned it, so does Grissom."
"I never..." She suddenly remembered her conversation with Grissom in the break room earlier in the week. "Alright, you little lab-rat." She found a small abandoned parking lot and drove right through them, stopping the car immediately and turning around to look Hodges in the eyes. "What do you know and where the hell were you the other day? Were you spying on me?"
"Not you, no."
"Grissom?!"
"It would appear that way but no. I was actually down behind the sofa looking for my cell phone. I just happened to over-hear-"
"You were spying!" Greg placed his hand on Allie's knee in an attempt to calm her down. In her mind, she was more amused than angry. She laughed. "Hodges!"
"You know something. More than you're letting everyone else know."
"I actually don't, and your ostrich is right over there."
"You do and you're changing the subject."
"I don't and why are we even having this discussion? It's none of our business what Grissom and Sara are doing."
"Or aren't, as the case may be." Greg snuck in there, raising his eyebrows. Allie and Hodges shot him a look and he returned to his window.
"Fine. But I will solve this case before the week is out, Moore."
"Oh, what case, you melodramatic ass?"
"The Grindle case. And did you just call me an ass? That's abuse!"
"Oh, my...this is not a case! You're going home now." Allie sniggered to herself causing Greg to watch her to make sure she wasn't going to shout or cry. Women and their emotions were something he resigned himself to never understanding many years ago. She turned on the ignition and drove to the ostrich, turned left and went up the tremendously long drive leading up to an old, Victorian house - painted pink, no less. There was a large wooden swing outside. Greg figured someone pleasant and eccentric would live in a house like this...so how on earth was someone pleasant and eccentric related to David Hodges?
"Hodges, did you say she was your aunt?"
"No, he said she wasn't his aunt. Hey, if she's not your aunt who is she?"
"She's my mom's aunt's best friend. Only my mom's aunt is dead, so really, I'm all she's got from the Hodges family."
Greg desperately wanted to say 'poor her', until he saw the genuine concern on Hodges' face. He'd always thought of Hodges as a Grissom-esque person; cold-hearted, curt and devoid of emotions. "Well, I guess that's us." Was all he could come up with. Very unlike himself, he decided. Hodges nodded and got out of the car. Allie and Greg exchanged pitied looks. Greg sighed and helped Hodges in with his suitcases before saying goodbye and leaving him at the door. By the time Greg got back, Allie had switched seats, so as Greg could drive instead. "Hey, you."
"Yeah. Hey, you know what, Greg?"
"I..." She looked at her nails and leaned in closer to Greg. "I'm really glad I have you."
Greg leant over and kissed her. "Why thank you, Miss Moore."
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A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the lack of updates...I was away at EuroDisney and now I have some sort of horrible flu-thing. Anyways, that was just a cheesy filler and the next few chapters will be way more exciting. I have a real plot thought up! By the way...what happens in the Season 8 premiere??? I'm Irish, so I haven't a clue what's been going on!