A DAY LIKE ANY OTHER

Part 2

Spoiler:  Playing with Fire

I spent ten minutes alone in my office, telling myself that I'd be ok. 

I had actually started by telling myself not to be an old fool, but I immediately gave myself a break. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? It wasn't just the looks. Greg was a smart man, knowledgeable, full of surprises. The kind of person that I liked to talk to.

I only hoped he wouldn't tell anybody; I could deal with a broken heart, as long as I did it privately.

After taking several deep breaths, I reluctantly left the safety of my office; it was time to meet the night crew for a review of our cases.

They were already at the conference room. It was Warrick's turn to bring snacks and he had brought cookies and pretzels.  As always, I'd brought a jar of chocolate covered crickets.  Warrick made a face.

"Grissom, you'll never convince us that those are edible."

"Hey, Grissom." Catherine called out from the opposite end of the table, "What did you do today? You look… relaxed."

"I just ate a dozen of these, Catherine," I replied, "Want to try one?"

She rolled her eyes, but kept a speculative eye on me for the rest of the meeting, as if I had suddenly grown an extra head or as if I had a giant hickey plastered on my-

Uh, oh. I carefully buttoned up my shirt, just in case.

Greg wasn't there yet, but I decided to start; I went first, telling them about a case I was working solo.  Then it was Warrick's turn, and he proceeded to explain how a case that had started as a suicide was shaping up as a murder case. 

Then, just as he was finishing his exposition, my Ottosclerosis began acting up and I couldn't catch his conclusions. Damn.

"Give me a written report by the end of the shift." I said, ignoring Warrick's frown. Informal written reports were becoming the rule since I had start losing my hearing; it wasn't making me popular but at least I wasn't missing anything.

I needed some time for my hearing to come back, so I got up to get a cup of coffee. I kept my eye on my coworkers in case one of them talked to me and that gave me a view of Greg hurriedly entering the room. He was bearing reports and a pastry box.

"You're late," I glared.

"Yes. Sorry, boss." He said, smiling. "But you'll be glad you waited for me, 'cause I've got just what you need."

I don't think I reddened. I hope I didn't.

"I have donuts, everybody!" Greg said, "I also have DNA results that will solve your most intricate cases!" he gave reports to everybody. "Here. Nick, Sara, Warrick, Grissom…" he finished, taking the seat opposite mine.  I sighed and sat again.

"Your turn, Nick." I said.

By the time Nick finished talking about his first pending case, my hearing was back but by then I couldn't concentrate anymore.

Greg was 'on' that night; he made comments, some helpful, some not at all; he peppered his verbal reports with little asides that would have prompted a warning from me… except that night, when I didn't even want to look at him. Finally, Sara had good-naturedly shoved a donut on his face to shut him up. Greg laughed, took the donut from her and munched happily while the rest of us listened to Nick talk about his second case.

I listened but I kept thinking of Greg and the kind of man he was.  He was friendly; he was fiercely proud of his profession, and he was generous. 

Generous, yeah, that was the word that best described him: Greg gave his all as a coworker, and I knew that he was a good friend too; he babysat, he tutored  kids with failing grades, oh, and don't forget, he got you CD players, and helped you if you were lonely and horny.

I snorted and Nick turned and looked curiously at me. He was curious but also resentful, since I'd interrupted him.

"What?" I glared and he sheepishly turned his attention back to his papers.

I was beginning to lose control.

I had to force myself to pay attention to Nick, and I did… for a while. I started wondering if my feelings for Greg were real or merely opportunistic, as he had said. Maybe my reaction had been purely biological. Maybe I was so lonely that a touch from another human being was enough to get me going.

For instance, what would have happened if Nick had come to my place bearing a CD player?  I tried to imagine Nick trying to comfort me and holding me in his arms and I just couldn't picture it. Then I tried to imagine myself in bed with Nick and…nothing. 

I could however, imagine Nick's reaction to my hard-on: He would have run, and fast. 

I snorted again and this time they all turned to me. 

"Continue, Nick." I said impatiently, while picking up a cricket from my jar.

Nick groaned.

"Grissom, I can't believe you eat those things."

"Well, Nick," I replied, "You wouldn't believe what other things I put in my mouth today, either."

Greg choked on his coffee and Nick frowned, and I abruptly announced that I had to make a call. 

Damn, I was definitely losing control of myself; I had to find something to keep me busy and out of the lab for a few days-

I had the solution, but it was a painful, horrible one.

I called the Sheriff and offered to teach a seminar at the Police Academy.

It was six o'clock and the shift had almost ended. I was busy reading Warrick's written report, when…

"Hey, Grissom."

I looked up. Greg was standing by the door.

"Hey, Greg."

"Want a cup of coffee?" he said tentatively, "I'm brewing some Kopi Luuak."

"Thanks, Greg. I can't today."

He nodded, as if he had anticipated that. He approached my desk and lowered his voice.

"It feels weird, huh?" he smiled, "I mean, to meet here and talk as if nothing happened."

I nodded reluctantly. I didn't want to talk about it. 

"I'm glad we did it, Grissom." He said firmly. "Oh, and don't worry; I'll keep it between us."

"Thanks, Greg."

"You're welcome." He said, eyeing me speculatively. 

Suddenly I remembered his words, 'can you feel me… come on, come on…' and remembered my own reaction to his words-

"Do you have my DNA results?" I asked abruptly.

"I'll have them ready in half an hour." He said promptly. "I'll call you as soon as I have them."

We looked at each other for a moment.

"Grissom." He began, "Are you… busy later?"

"Hum, yeah." I nodded, shuffling some papers on my desk. "I'll be teaching a seminar at the PD Academy."

"Oh. I thought you hated to do that."

"Couldn't say no, this time." I shrugged.

"Well. Lucky kids." He smiled. "So… would you like some coffee?"

"I guess not, Greg. I've got to prepare my class."

"Oh. Ok. Tomorrow, then." He said and walked backwards, apparently still expecting something from me. I looked down and continued reading my reports.

I was sure that after a few days of this, Greg would get the message:  I didn't want to talk about what happened. And it couldn't happen again.

Then, just three days later, Lab's Greg exploded.

I've tried to forget that moment in which time froze and I saw him lying face down among the debris, while fire erupted around him. I just whispered, 'no, no, no' until Nick pushed me aside and ran into the lab with a fire extinguisher. I reacted at last and we got Greg out of the lab and far from immediate danger.  

He was the main casualty in what appeared to be an accident.  We didn't know what had caused it yet.  We didn't know if it had been human error, and whose error had been, but my boss came asking for a head on a platter, and he didn't care whose. I only hoped it wouldn't be Greg's.

According to the ER doctor, Greg didn't have any internal injuries and his burns would heal nicely.

The head nurse let me see him but only after giving me a hard time about visiting hours.

"He won't talk much anyway." She said, "He's up to his ears in painkillers."

Greg was lying on his side, apparently asleep, and his face looked as if someone had tried to sand it. But he was alive. Alive, thank God.

For a mad moment, I wondered if I could get in that bed with him. There was no one around after all.  I would hold him, and then I would kiss him-

I chuckled. Like I would dare to do that.

I touched his hair just barely and to my surprise, he stirred.

" 'issom" he mumbled, without opening his eyes.

"…How did you know it was me?"

" 'teps." He replied.  He'd recognized my steps.

I touched his hand and he closed his fingers upon mine for a moment.

" 's 'ad, huh?" That was harder to understand but I finally got it. He was asking if it was bad.

"Nah," I dismissed, "Some broken glass mostly."

" 'ot t' lab.  'y 'ace."  He wasn't talking about the lab, he was asking how bad his face was. "'ill I 'ook 'ike 'on 'aney?" He added.

Uh?

When I finally understood, I chuckled.

"No, Greg; you won't look like Lon Chaney." I patted his hand, "You'll look like you have a sunburn. I promise"

" 'ood." He mumbled. " 'issom?"

"Yes?"

" 'uy 'ondoms." Buy condoms.

I smiled despite myself. The kid knew his priorities.  I drove back to the lab, hearing those last words, over and over. He wanted to have sex with me again.

Catherine's actions might or might not have caused the explosion, but the same could be said about Hodges. At the time, I wished I could have known for sure, but I had to resign myself to not knowing.

In the meantime, we had to pull double duty; Catherine had been suspended, and some cases had to be revised because the evidence had been destroyed.

I was revising some of those cases with Nick when my cell phone rang. 

"Grissom." I answered.

"Hey, Grissom."

"Greg?" I said, distractedly. "You ok?"

"Yeah." He answered, "I… I'm being released today…can you pick me up?"

"Oh." I hesitated, "Sure. Ok. What time?"

"Two o'clock."

"Fine." I hung up and turned to Nick, "Greg's being released today. Can you pick him up?"

"Sure. What time?"

By the time Nick left to pick up his friend, Warrick and Sara had joined him in. 

Just a couple of hours later, Catherine called.  I could barely hear her, she was whispering into the phone.

"Grissom, I know you hate parties, but why aren't you here?"

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"We're at Greg's! We brought a cake to welcome him back home and you're the only one missing!"

"I'm busy here."

"You have to come, Grissom; you're his boss, he needs to know that you don't blame him for the explosion-"

"Why would I blame him? It wasn't his fault." I interrupted,  "I thought you had already told him what happened."

"And I did, Grissom, but he needs to hear it from you. Come on, we'll save a slice of cake for you."

I hung up before I could tell her what to do with the cake.

I wrote steadily for a few minutes before I started to feel remorse. I should have been there.  I should have picked him up as he wanted. I mean, I knew why he'd called me; he needed comfort.

He wanted sex, while I just wanted to get over him.

I thought of him bringing me CDs without expecting anything back. I thought how he'd made feel young and wanted for the first time in ages. It was as if he knew there would be  something inside me waiting to get out… with just one touch.

Just because I couldn't deal with this didn't mean I couldn't give back.

It was my turn to comfort him.

I'd never been at Greg's place before, although he hosted a Christmas party years ago. It's a small apartment, cluttered with books and records.

Sara opened the door and led me through the short hallway.

"We're in the kitchen." She explained.

They were all sitting there, eating chocolate cake. I nodded at Greg and he smiled faintly. It was clear that he was angry with me.

Before I could even finish my cake, they started talking about returning to the lab. They offered to do something for their friend, though. Warrick and Sara took Greg's clothes to the laundry and Nick volunteered to get him groceries.

"Grissom will help you clean up the mess, Greg." Catherine said loudly, before leaving.

"Hey, why me?" I hissed, "You're the one with extra time."

"But you're the one who didn't bother to visit him at the hospital!" she hissed back, "You need to bond with him, Grissom. Also, I've just had a manicure and can't ruin it." She waved goodbye.

When everybody left, I found myself under Greg's stare.

"This is the first time I see you wearing your hair flat." I said awkwardly. He didn't respond, so I started picking up paper cups and plates.

"You don't have to do that." He said, sitting on a stool in the kitchen.

"I want to help." I insisted.

He watched while I cleaned up.

"I thought you'd pick me up, Grissom." He said, after a while.

"I know-"

"I wanted you to do it," he insisted, "You know why?"

I nodded reluctantly.

"I thought you'd come running." He glared.

"I'm sorry-" I started.

"You didn't visit-" He added

"Greg, we've been busy." I said, "I mean, I can do Catherine's job along with mine, but we've been having trouble with your replacement."

"Isn't Williamson covering for me?" He asked, immediately concerned.

"Greg, no one does your job better than you." I said; I'm shameless when it comes to manipulating the pride he feels for his job, but it did the trick; a reluctant smile sneaked his way to his lips.

"Oh, now you're just sucking up to me." He said.

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling back. "Is it working?"

"Not yet."

I threw caution away and added,

"I'll kiss your ass too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Hey, I'll do whatever it takes to be forgiven."

"Oh, well, in that case…" he said, climbing down the stool. "I forgive you." He put his palm flat on my chest and pushed me into the hallway.  I walked backwards, trusting him to get me safe wherever he was taking me to.

"I did visit you once, by the way." I said, "You were sedated and not making much sense.  You said you were afraid you'd end up looking like Lon Chaney."

"I thought I had dreamed that!" he was stunned; "You said 'no', right?  And then you said that it would look as if I had a-"

"- sunburn." we finished together and he smiled. He rubbed my cheek with his knuckles and I leant to kiss him.

I remembered what Catherine had said earlier, though.

"Greg, you do know that it was an accident, don't you?"

"Yeah, but" he shrugged, "I keep thinking I should have noticed something was amiss-"

"Greg, nobody could have." I said firmly, "Not even you, who have probably saved that lab more times than I know. All right?" I kissed him this time; he gently slid his tongue in my mouth, giving me a taste that was sweet and bitter at the same time. Cake and painkillers.

We remained in the middle of the hallway for a moment, just kissing.

I'd missed him, a lot. He pulled back.

"I missed..." He said hoarsely, as if he had read my thoughts. "… I missed this. Come on, come on" he urged, pushing me towards his room.

We entered his room and started taking off each other's clothes. Mine were easy to get out off, but I had trouble with his shirt.  Again.

"Why don't you wear t-shirts, Greg? This damn zipper got stuck."

He smiled and laid back on the bed, letting me do all the work.

"Rip it off if you want." He said indulgently and flinched when I did just that, "Grissom! This shirt is new!"

I took it off him and I suddenly found myself staring at an awful bruise that covered part of his chest and a shoulder.

"Shit, Greg."

"It looks bad, huh?" he said, looking closely at me.

"Forget how it looks," I said, gingerly touching the bruised skin. "Does it hurt?"

He shook his head.

"Greg, maybe we shouldn't do this."

"It's all right." He pressed my hand against his chest. "I won't break, Grissom." He looked at me in the eye. "We can do anything you want."

"Shit, don't say things like that." I groaned. It was embarrassing, but his words were enough to arouse me. I kissed his shoulder, afraid of hurting him.

"I'm serious, Grissom. Anything-"

"All right." I whispered. "Tell me what you want."

We made love as if we had been apart for years; I actually made love to him knowing it would be the last time we'd be together. I did what he wanted, though. I'd been concerned about hurting him out of ignorance, but he was patient in telling me what to do. He had done it before, but a long time ago.

He was very vocal that day.

"I'm alive, I'm fucking alive-" he moaned as he rocked against me, digging his fingers into my flesh. "Gil, Gil-"

It was gratifying to hear him scream my name as he came. What I screamed I'm not so sure of; I was only aware of being inside him, and of his body so real and strong…

He held each other while we got our breaths back. He smiled and leant his sweaty forehead against mine.

"Gil, it was… It was so fucking good-" He moved down a little and lightly bit my arm. "I fucking needed this."

"What, human flesh?"  I frowned and he laughed, biting harder.

"Gil Tartare." He joked. "Don't worry, I'll kiss it better" He teased, licking the bite.  He then looked at me for a moment, and said. "Gil, I…hum. I…" he hesitated and I felt my heart jump in my chest.  I'd never seen that look in his face and for a moment I thought he would say something… Something about love-

But he only brushed a kiss on my cheek. He lazily rolled off me and lay sprawled on his back for a while. I turned to study him: Greg in repose; happy and sated. In the dim light, I could see a couple of love bites, deep purple against his pale skin. I mused how easily Warrick would have identified the author, since my crooked teeth would be a dead give away…

Greg turned to me.

"What's Gil short for?" he asked. I didn't answer, and he speculated, "Gilbert? Gilford? Guildenstern?" I cringed and he was appalled. "What? You're kidding! Oh, man, how did you survive school with that name?"

"Like any short, skinny kid:  I lied about it."

"Short and skinny?" he looked at me for a moment, and then he confessed, "I was short and fat." He noticed my disbelief, "Really. I was short, fat, and pimply," he chuckled, "My ears made me look as if I had wings in my head; I wore braces- Let's just say that I didn't have to fight for Quasimodo's role at the school play."

"You turned out fine." I said, trying hard not to say how fine indeed.

"Guildenstern." He muttered, looking closely at me. "Did you know that you always keep your arms to yourself?"

I looked down at myself, noticing that he was right.

He slid under the sheet until he was invading my space.

"Here, put them around me." He said, and I obeyed.  For a moment, we were practically nose-to-nose. Then he arranged our limbs until we were lying with our arms wrapped around each other and my head tucked under his chin.

 "' night." He whispered, tightening his hold on me.  It was barely five in the afternoon.

"I'll have to leave soon, Greg." I warned him.

"Stay a minute." He said, "Sleep a little."

I tried to sleep but then I noticed a scent that seemed to overwhelm even the smell of sex and sweat.

"What's that? Incense?"

"Whoa," he mumbled, "You do have a good sense of smell.  It's vanilla" he said ruefully, "It clings to every little corner. Vanilla candles; don't ask." He finished dismissively.

I didn't have to ask; someone had obviously been lighting candles to help settle the mood. A romantic girlfriend. 

Well, I could do romantic too.

Not.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Greg?" I asked.

"Mmmmh? Yep." He mumbled sleepily. Then I felt his body tense up a little as he asked, "Does it bother you?"

Hell, yeah.

"No." I said, and after a few minutes, I released the grip I'd had on him. "Got to go, Greg."

"Aw. Wish you could sleep here."

I picked my clothes from the pile on the floor and put them on while he watched.

"I'll have my operation as soon as Catherine's back." I said off-handedly.

"Really?" he sat up. "Shit, Grissom, are you sure?"

"Yeah. I can't put it off anymore."

"Well… I'll pick you up at the hospital." He said and he smiled mischievously.

"Thanks. But I'll be taking a few days off immediately after." I said, "A sort of vacation."

"Great, you deserve a rest."

I glanced around his room, knowing I wouldn't see it again. 

I looked at him.  He was lying on the right side of the bed and now he was holding my pillow in his arms. 

"'night, Greg."

So, is Greg really a jerk? Should Grissom simply enjoy what he's being offered, or should he demand complete faithfulness?

The third chapter is coming up soon!