A/N Thanks to Tcrowe/smryczko and Alik2k for the last minute speedy work. Many thanks to Cybrocat who introduced me to the musical Avenue Q and prompted my imagination to wander this way.

I don't own CBS or CSI but I own a nifty faux Tiffany lamp.

I do mean good cop, good cop in the story. Don't ask just read. Enjoy.

Spoilers: Yep

Who Needs Friends

Chapter One

Gil looked at Brass and Catherine. Both were sitting ramrod straight, hands in their laps, eyes open and focused on him in a loving vaguely pathetic way. They looked like a caricature of good cop, good cop.

He waited, leaning back in his chair away from the onslaught of whatever was about to happen.

Catherine started in a voice that sounded very much like his mother's. "As your closest friends, we wanted to let you know that we accept whoever you are unconditionally. You don't have to pretend with us. We love you no matter what."

Gil looked at Brass hoping that a male mind meld would take place. Instead Brass tried to look pleasant. He only succeeded in looking nervous and uncomfortable.

The New Jersey accent kicked in. "Gris. I want you to know that I will never think any less of you. That you are less of a man. I think I can say the same for Nick, Warrick and Greg."

Gil titled his head and scratched at his beard. He was utterly confused. What were they talking about? What did they think he was hiding? It couldn't be Sara. Everyone knew he had a fire for his subordinate. That was an open secret, sort of like don't ask don't tell.

"Gil, we know." Catherine stated flatly. "And now that we know it makes perfect sense. Why a handsome, successful man never married. Why you keep Sara at arms length."

Gil listened very carefully to make sure his hearing was still intact. Maybe he was starting to miss sentences and phrases again. That was possible.

Catherine leaned forward in her chair so that her knees came to rest against the desk. "I saw you come out of the Sweet Potato Bar and Grill."

"Yes…" Gris was sure that he would never understand women. Again he looked at Brass.

"It's okay buddy. This changes nothing between us. You are still my ace, my poker playing buddy, my go-to guy. I just won't invite you to strip clubs any longer." Brass laughed a little too cheerily.

"You two go to strip clubs?"

"Yeah. So?" Brass huffed. "Find me a guy that doesn't. Considering Gris seemed to enjoy himself."

He winked at his friend.

"I am not judging. I used to make my living…." Catherine thought of something. "Are you bisexual Gil? I mean the thing with Lady Heather…"

Gil rubbed his temple. They thought he was gay. He started to laugh, but didn't want to insult their careful planning and genuine concern.

"Guys…"

"I mean we all experiment Gil. Were Heather and Terry experiments?"

Brass shook his head. "Must have been because there is no way a straight man would turn down Sara Sidle. You had me worried. I mean you being gay is a relief. None of us could figure out how you could turn down Sara. She has on that court skirt today. Aw man, that woman has some legs on her."

Gil's mind wandered to Sara's legs for a second. He had forgotten today was her court day. He would have to find an excuse to talk to her before she left. Hopefully she would sit across from his desk in the chair that Catherine occupied where he could get an eyeful.

Gil took off his glasses to buy himself a few seconds while he gathered his thoughts. "Guys, I am not gay."

"Sure you are." Catherine insisted. "Why else would you be at the Sweet Potato?"

"To have lunch with a friend." Gil offered.

"What friend? We know all of your friends." Brass questioned.

"And you know this one. Mimosa from the transvestite case. We have lunch or dinner from time to time."

Catherine gave him a pained look. "Gil you don't have to lie to us."

"I'm not." He said simply as he checked the time on his computer screen. Sara would be leaving soon. Time to try another tactic.

"Look. Why do you think I would feel the need to lie to you about my sexual orientation? I don't befriend close-minded people. If I was gay and you didn't already know I would not lie to you."

Catherine and Brass cut eyes at one another and then back to Gil.

Brass spoke. "So you are bisexual then?"

"No. I am straight. I am not attracted to men. I am attracted to women only." Long legged brunette women with an ass you can bounce a quarter off of, Gil thought. If he missed Sara in her court clothes there would be hell to pay. He'd never let Jim win at poker again.

Frustration and pain coursed through Brass voice. "Big guy…"

A knock at the door interrupted Brass' next statement. Sara throaty voice filled the office. "Gris, I'm on my way out. Why is your door closed anyway?"

Gil gave Brass a look.

"You had better be glad that I had a chance to see her before she went to court or I would own your house by next week. I can't believe…"

Sara turned the knob and stepped into the room. "Family meeting? Want me to get the boys?" She said, jovially trying to lighten the tension that assaulted her as she moved closer.

Gil noted that Sara had on no stockings. This was good dream material. Bonus.

Sara leaned against the edge of Gris' desk. "Is everything okay? You two look like my Aunt and Uncle when they tried to tell me about sex."

Catherine was glad to have another woman in the room. "We were just having a conversation about honesty and friendship. Do you have any friends that kept anything important from you? Like being gay."

Sara shook her head. "The rest of my friends are in San Francisco. Obviously not a place where people feel a need to lie about their sexuality and you guys are all straight."

Gil had stopped listening and was concentrating on Sara's ass as it was very close to his hand right now. Did she have on underwear? It was probably best that Catherine and Brass stayed. Sara knew what she was doing to him. Hell, everyone knew what she did to him.

Brass cleared his throat. The cop in him had overridden the friend in him. He had places to go and people to see. Time to speed this conversation along.

"Look Gris. Stop it. Stop acting like you are looking at Sara's legs and ass. Stop acting like you are interested. There's no way you can be. What heterosexual man in his right mind would turn down that woman for dinner?" Brass stood as waved a hand in Sara's direction.

Sara covered her mouth.

"There's no way you are straight because a straight man would have nailed her years ago. Did you think we wouldn't figure it out? I mean I thought, but I wasn't sure until now…"

Gris was standing now matching Brass' belligerent tone.

"I am not pretending to look at Sara's ass, I AM looking at Sara's ass! I am not pretending to have a thing for Sara, I DO have thing for Sara! I am not gay. I am scared shitless!"

Later Gil would wonder if it was setup. His friends, Sara and her legs, his sexual frustration.

It was Catherine's clear head that broke through the stunned fog of it all. With remarkable ease she hustled Brass out of the room, told Gil she was sorry, and told Sara she would send Nick to testify since they had worked the case together.

Gil took his hands from his face ventured a look at Sara. "Smugness does not become you Sara."

She was standing over him with her arms folded. Rocking back on her heels mouth set in a semi grin.

"Scared shitless. Huh? And my ass. Well my ass is amazing. I have been doing Tae Bo. I wondered if you had noticed."

Gil had nothing to loose. "Your ass was incredible before the Tae Bo, and so were your legs although calves are more unbelievable than ever."

Sara took Catherine's former seat and draped her legs over the armrest. "I think this might be the most compliments I have had in one day. Brass thinks you are gay because you don't jump my bones. You are checking me out. Shitless huh?"

"How long are you going to lord this over my head?" Gil asked wearily.

"Let's see. You ignore me half the time. You are snippy with me the other half. You turn me down for dinner. You stutter when I give YOU the opening to ask me out. I have known you nearly ten years and you have given me no encouragement except for the occasion ogle. How long do think I should hold this over your head? I mean is there a minimum sentencing rule with regard to complete stupidity."

"There is."

"Do tell."

"According to the Penal Code of Nevada the perpetrator must agree to take the victim out to dinner."

Sara crossed and uncrossed her legs. "One dinner and you are off. I know you aren't gay but maybe you are on drugs."

"I didn't say one dinner."

"How many."

"Every week for a couple of weeks. Then we go into phase two of sentencing."

"What's phase two of sentencing?"

"I have to show you all my secret spots."

"Secrets. I love secrets"

TBC

Remember they are friends. Who will try and "help" next.