Title: Unbeating
Genre: Angst.
Pairing: Nick and Greg
Main Summary: Las Vegas is becoming overrun with vampires, and life just isn't the same at the crime lab. A series of oneshots from each character's point of view.(slight crossover with BtVS)
Chapter Summary: Greg doesn't like the new Vegas.
Author's Note: Okay, this was supposed to be the Buffy/CSI crossover from xkacie's wishlist, but the fic went where it wanted to go, so I don't think the Buffy part entirely translated.
UNBEATING
Greg sighed as he stumbled through the front door, eyes barely cracked open, head nodding forward as the need for sleep threatened to upend him where he stood and land him flat on his face on the welcome mat that had already been ceremoniously moved from the front stoop to the front hall for the night.
The door swung quickly shut behind him and locked with a satisfying double-click, automatically, because he rarely had the energy required to lock it himself when he finally did make it home after a long shift at the Crime Lab, but Greg barely heard it as he let the CSI outer vest that he'd worked so hard for drop carelessly off his shoulders, landing heavily on the ground with more of a wooden clank than bindles and gloves could make.
A small black tube rolled out of the top pocket, shaker clicking plaintively as it made its slow trip across the room, and bumped against the wall. He stared at it blankly knowing that he should pick it up, seeing as the holy water mace was about his second-most useful defence against the usual suspects at the scene, but not really having the will to stop his sleepy momentum, lest he never make it to bed.
By the time he reached the living room, he'd shucked off his holster and almost completely useless gun just in time to dump it alongside a few perpetually dusty tomes on the ugly coffee table that Nick had dragged over from his old apartment, and kicked his shoes into a corner alongside Nick's blood-caked boots.
Tired feet and sore legs dragged him the final length of the hallway, his body's in-built autopilot straining to do much more than sway him in the right direction as the night's aftermath threatened to wear him down into a pile of aching scars and over-exerted muscles.
The bedroom door opened before he even knew he was turning the knob, and the sight of the half-occupied bed was almost enough to make him cry, but the power to his tear ducts had long ago been redirected to the quickly-hardening muscles in his legs, and all he could do was feel the burn of need as he slid between the sheets.
The body in the bed shifted and turned, smooth as butter, and leaned over him with the gracefulness of the undead; soulless eyes, with somehow-lingering memories of a past life, peering down at him through darkness that hung over the room like a thick fog, the outline of teeth somehow managing to glint in the scant light from under the door, air whooshing into unbreathing lungs, savouring an undetected scent that lingered in the air around him.
"Missed you," a drawling voice that was everything familiar, everything he loved, but, sadly, reminded him of everything he hated about the new Vegas, whispered through the air. Unneeded breath puffed against his neck. Sharpened canines scraped gently against his skin, never biting through, always teasing with the prospect of eternity.
And this time Greg did feel the hot salt of tears kiss his cheek as Nick's cold arms wrapped around him and drew him closer to a chest that no longer moved.
"I know," he murmured, tracing the skin over his unbeating heart with a trembling finger. "I love you, too."
Fine
Okay, I've decided to continue this as a series of one-shots that I can wander back into whenever I get the urge, so each part is not necessarily in sequence with the previous ones. "Wishing" obviously occurs before "Unbeating", for example. And each one shot will be from one character's point of view; their thoughts, etc.
So, anyway, hope you enjoyed. Drop me a line.