Jessie twirled absently in Greg's swivel chair in the DNA lab, nervously nibbling on her lower lip as the young CSI rummaged through a cabinet, searching for the box of bandaides he always kept on hand. She suddenly became aware of the fact that while she had been spinning in the chair, her eyes had fixed themselves, in a rather admiring way, on Greg's backside. Damn! He must work out, or something, because this view is fiiiine Just as quickly, she mentally slapped herself. Oh, God! Ididnotjustlookthere! Jess hastily averted her eyes, and only by sheer willpower was she able to keep her hungry gaze from wandering back to its previous subject. That was hard indeed, considering the object of her meandering eyes' affection was currently ass-up in the bottom of the cabinet. It didn't help that he was wearing rather tight jeans, either.
Greg slowly straightened, clutching the cardboard box of bandaides, fully aware that he was being watched. He spun on his heel, a puppyish grin plastered across his face, the ever-so-perky CSI taking over for the oh-so-completely-lustful boy. Marching over to his chair, he clamped a hand down on the back, bringing Jessie's tilt-a-whirl ride to a jolting stop. "Found them!" he proclaimed triumphantly, and pulled out two tiny strips. As he peeled the paper backing off the bandages, he fumbled, dropping one to stick to the tile floor. So be it, he told himself, shoving down the CSI and letting the kid he really was take back over. He bent down to scrape the sticky thing off the floor, intentionally giving his intern a delicious view of hard, small, Greg-ass, wonderfully showcased in his almost-too-small jeans.
Jessie stifled a giggle of joy at this intentional display.
Greg stood back up, pulling a fresh bandaide from the box, and shooting a three-pointer into the far wastebasket with the one from the floor. He bent slightly to apply the bandaides to Jessie's cheek, and almost lost it. He found himself with a very convenient-and wonderful-view of her cleavage, her breasts rising and falling gently under the hot-pink cami she wore beneath her lab coat. Isodidnotjustlookdownhershirt! he babbled to himself. Her breath was warm and quick against his cheek as he smoothed the strip of gauze and plastic onto her face. He tore his gaze away as he finished applying the second bandaide, and ended up staring directly into her warm chocolate eyes. Her pupils contracted slightly as he stared into the soft depths. Just like a deer's eyes, he decided. Soft, gentle, brown velvet.
Jessie pulled away from Greg before she did anything stupid, like lean in and see if his lips were really as soft as they looked.
Greg choked back a tiny sigh of disappointment as Jessie turned to leave. Their shift was over for the night, he realized as he glanced down at his watch. It was nearly one in the morning. His libido elbowed him furiously, and before he could lose the nerve, he blurted out, "Hey, Jessica! Wait!"
The intern stopped in her tracks and turned slightly. "Yeah, Mr. Sanders?"
Screwing up all his courage, Greg hoped he didn't scream like a little girl and run away before he could say anything. "It's Greg, okay? And, um, I, um, that is, do you, I mean, would you, um..." DAMNIT, GREGORY SANDERS! JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY! "Would you like to, um, go out for a drink tonight? You know, um, to celebrate your first full day of work? I mean, you survived Grissom, Nick...God, Ecklie came in, and you lived through that! And-"
Jessie cut him off with a small, elegant movement of her wrist. "I would love to...Greg." She rolled his name around in her mouth, liking the smooth, playful sound of it on her tongue. "And it's Jessie, or Jess. I can't stand being called Jessica. It sounds too little-miss-rich-girl, too formal."
Grinning like an idiot, Greg helped her take off her lab coat, pulled off his with practiced ease, and hung them on the rack just inside the door. He turned out the lights, followed Jessie out, turned, closed and locked the door, chirping out a chipper, hyper "Goodnight!" to Nick Stokes as he passed.
The Texan merely grunted in reply, halfheartedly raised a hand in farewell, and stumbled away, only wishing to get some shut-eye.
Throwing caution and good sense to the winds of fate, Greg wrapped an arm around Jessie's waist and started off, surreptitiously flipping off the window to Grissom's office as he left; he hoped his boss saw and got the hint. To his surprise and delight, Jessie didn't pull away, but only settled into the crook of his arm.
"So," she murmured, half sleepy, half startled, but all wildly giddy with happiness and anticipation, "which bar?"