Title: Haut Et Le Niveau Bas
Authors Note: Umm... Brought on by watching the episode. Uh, one of my first slash fics which I don't mind too much. Weird.
Warning: This is a slash fic. Nick and Greg are paired together, and there is the mention of gay sex. Do not read if you don't like that stuff, and don't flame.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. CBS, Mr. Jerry B, and Mr. Anthony Z. own all characters and the shows writers own the scripts. No money is being made of this. Only my ideas are mine and are not used with the idea of harming/offending anyone.
Summary: Greg's in a mood. Why?
Rating: I'm going to say... PG-13 because of the mention of sex.
Spoilers: High and Low
"Epithelials on the slashed canopy match the ones on the sleeping bag drawstring. Fred Dacks, both places. Thank you and goodnight." But did they leave? No, and that's what bothered him the most. He may have been rude, or as Hodges liked to say, curt, but he was fed up with Nick's flaunting. When currently residing in a fight, you do not hang around and bug person in said fight. Number one rule.
Hoping they'd take the hint, sooner or later, he heads over to another part of the lab. A place where he can hear what they say, just incase, but make it seem like he's ignoring them. Hands move over scientific instruments, never touching one, not brave enough to not pay attention to the chemicals he used.
"So Fred does a number on Jimmy's canopy to keep him from flying." He fights his urge to grind his teeth, knowing it would only give him a headache, improving his mood by less. The two men were like little, annoying brothers who followed you around all day without realizing how annoying they truly were.
"He's threatened by the guy. It's to keep from getting shown up, you know." And now it's the urge to sigh he's fighting, not letting that sexy Texan accent get to him. It's always the accent that gets him, and those glasses. But tonight Nick's not wearing them, so there's nothing to worry about besides the accent and that body.
"He needs to be the top dog, huh?" Now he's glad he's still facing the wall, blush not visible to the other two men. He could sort of see their reflection in the glass, but not enough to tell any distinct expressions, their heads just blurs.
"Hmm." That non-committal noise makes a groan almost pass through his lips. So many times that sound had been heard in the early light of the day, sometimes at night even, and it was still as wonderful. The same sound for different actions, emotions, in different tones.
"Yeah, that sounds like you." He shook his head slightly, knowing he'd have to intervene within a matter of moments. If he couldn't stand being in the same room with them just talking, there was no way he'd stay sane if they started bickering.
"Who?"
"You."
"That sounds like both of you. Now please, can you take this somewhere else?" Hodges would be proud, and now that that thought had entered his brain, he cringed slightly. Making his way around the table and behind Nick, he starts trying to distract himself with DNA. It's the only way.
"So... Jimmy gets a new canopy. Flies, dies. Comes down unattached. We got no canopy, we got no harness." Then the two should be out looking for the equipment. Outside. Away from the DNA lab. Very far away. Especially Nick.
"If we want to find out what happened, we need to find that rig." And now they're getting somewhere. Seeing this as his cue, he quickly turns himself around, placing the DNA samples on the table, one arm reaching around Nick's shoulders.
"Well, you're not going to find it here." That smell that made Nick so delicious in his mind wafted in and up into his nose. A part of him just wanted to bury his face into Nick's neck, but knew that all would not be forgiven so easily. Plus, Warrick might get suspicious.
With those thoughts now running through his brain, he grabbed that toy out of Nicks hands and proceeded to tip the chair forwards. Where'd he get that toy anyways? He'd been looking for that for a few weeks now. The loud protests of Nick, mostly made up of 'Heys' was heard as the man fell onto his feet, off the chair. The startled and confused look that was present on Nicks face made Greg even more annoyed, causing him to say, 'Go', although all he wanted to do was yell the word.
"Have you taken your medication today?"
"See ya." As he turned his back to Warrick, not even bothering to watch them go, he thinks about what the man had just said. Had he taken his medication that day? Obviously, Warrick had meant it as a joke, but contrary to popular belief, Greg did take medication. Apparently he was paranoid, or too stressed out, or something that caused his doctor to send him to a psychiatrist.
He thought hard, trying to recall the hours before leaving home for work. The days had blended together, leaving him confused if it was today or yesterday he had popped those pills. He hadn't, he remembered it now. The pills were sitting on the island in his kitchen, waiting to be swallowed. He had taken them out and went to get a glass of water when the phone had rung, making him forget previous tasks.
Sighing, he began to work on processing evidence. He supposed he needed to make it up to Nick, as all day he'd been in a mood, convinced Nick was flaunting about, making passes at every guy in sight. That day was as good as any to let Nick in on his little problem. Maybe he'd get great sex. Oh, who was he kidding? He got that anyways.