From Greg

Part Three

Spoilers: For Warrick; 19 Down, One to Go; and the closing scene from 'Ellie'.

I did a little rewrite on part two.

Greg was speechless.

"I couldn't leave after that," Gil said. "It would have been like leaving in the middle of a good movie; I needed to know how it all turned out."

Greg smiled.

"And how did it turn out?"

"You became a great CSI." Grissom was silent for a moment. "I always knew you'd be OK. You had the discipline and the focus. I just... had to be there, every step of the way. It was like a fresh start."

"I'm glad you stayed," Greg said good-naturedly. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have got together, you and me."

Gil smiled back. Falling in love was not what he had in mind when he decided to give Greg a chance on the field, but that's exactly what happened.

He had no regrets.

"It's hard to believe you won't be here, anymore," Greg said. "Or that you can actually stay away. I mean, you say you won't but, come on, would it hurt you to drop by for a visit, now an then -"

"I'd better not," Gil said, smiling a little. "The truth is, I don't think I could be here and stay on the sidelines. If I came in for a visit, I'd probably start meddling. Trust me, no one wants a former boss to do that."

"Oh. You mean, Catherine would be pissed."

"I would," Gil said pointedly. "And besides, in a few months I'll probably be out of touch too, so -" he let the word trail off. He was smiling, trying to make light of their conversation, but Greg wasn't smiling.

The young man was looking closely at Grissom; he seemed to be waiting, and once again, Gil was aware of the things they still had to discuss. He could simply ask Greg what he wanted. A direct question, a direct answer, and that would be the end of it.

But then, that was the problem: What if it was, indeed, the end of it? He didn't want to hear Greg say it was over. He knew it would be difficult, practically impossible to keep in touch from now on; he knew that without the clout that being the boss gave him, he could hardly hope to hold Greg's interest for long. He'd accepted this a long time ago, but acceptance didn't make it any easier to take.

That's why he'd put off this conversation for so long...

"Grissom," Greg said suddenly. "I want you to know that..." He paused. He clumsily reached for something in a shirt pocket, and Grissom had the sinking feeling that it was a handkerchief. It wasn't, but whatever it was, Greg kept it on his lap, out of Gil's view. He was looking at it while he spoke. "These past years," he said a bit shakily, "I wouldn't change them for anything."

"Me, neither," Gil said softly. "I was happy."

Greg looked up.

"You were?"

"Of course."

Greg leant forward, putting his hands on the desk. "Grissom," he said eagerly. "Listen. I want to know if -"

But Grissom had finally decided to talk.

"I know I should have talked to your first, Greg. I'm sorry I didn't. I just didn't want things to change too soon."

Greg stared at him. "And they're going to change," he flatly.

"Well... It'll be hard to stay in touch," Gil said reasonably. He smiled, "Not unless I turn up as a witness in a crime," he added good-humoredly.

Greg clearly didn't think it was funny, but he forced a smile.

"So," he said casually, "Do you have any plans? Are you gonna move to Surrey and keep bees, like Sherlock Holmes?"

Gil smiled. "I just might."

Greg was looking expectantly at him. "You could teach too," he added.

"I could." Gil realized Greg did want to know what his plans were, and so he added, "I'm fielding offers right now. I got a couple of calls from Vermont and Chicago. Oregon, too. They're planning to expand their Entomology Department, they want help. I was thinking maybe I could -"

"Turn them down."

The words were so abrupt Grissom wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

Greg gulped. "Turn them down," he said again. "Whatever they're offering you, turn them down." He paused for a moment, letting these words sink in. Then, more confidently, he went on. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I want you to put your plans on hold for a couple of months. For me."

Grissom was too stunned to reply. His heart was beating so fast and loud, he was sure Greg could hear it. He was elated, but he took too long to answer, and Greg mistook the silence for reluctance.

"Just give me a couple of months," he pleaded. "Four, at the most."

"Greg -"

"I can't leave right now, Grissom. With you gone, Catherine's gonna need all the help she can get. I mean, Riley's doing great but she's still getting used to the team. There'll be a new guy or girl –I'll stay and help, and then I'll go with you to Vermont or wherever. I'll apply for a job there; I know I can find something to do; hell, I can even go back to being a DNA analyst and make a lot of money -"

Gil put an end to the babbling.

"Greg," he said more loudly. "I am not leaving Las Vegas."

Greg blinked.

"You're not?"

"No," he said, as if it were obvious. "I'll be teaching seminars in Vermont and maybe Chicago, but I'll be coming back here. My home's here. You're here."

Greg exhaled -noisily; as if he'd been holding his breath for days and had been just allowed to take a real breath.

"Jesus, Gil," he whispered. He was still processing what Gil had just said. "Why didn't you just say so from the beginning? I mean, you've been acting so mysterious, lately. I thought you were leaving," he said, almost angrily, "Hell, I thought you were going to dump me!"

"I wasn't going to dump you. I just didn't want to make any plans about us yet."

"But why?"

"Because -" Gil paused for a moment. "Because any decision should come from you," he said at last. He sighed. "We're going to be apart much of the time, now. Our schedules will be different. Let's face it, Greg; you spend almost every waking hour on the job -"

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Greg retorted. "I only spend every waking hour on the job 'cause that's the only time I get to be with you. I mean, why do you think I keep going back to the body farm? It's not the smells or the sights –believe me!"

Grissom stared at him. It was as if he were looking at him for the first time, ever.

"Would you really have come with me to Vermont or Chicago?"

"Sure."

Grissom was impressed. Happily impressed.

But Greg was still pissed off.

"Why can't you be like everybody else and talk, for God's sake?" He waved at him as he spoke, and accidentally dropping the object he'd been hiding in his hand all along. Released, it rolled over the desk like a dice, only it was definitely not a dice.

It was a jewelry box.

Gil looked down at it.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," Greg said quickly. He reached for it, but Gil was faster. Quick as lighting, his hand shot out and caught the box.

Greg looked up in alarm. "Grissom -"

"What is it?" Gil asked. Greg's sudden reluctance only fueled his curiosity. He opened the box and… Froze.

There was a ring inside; a gold band, gleaming in a nest of burgundy velvet.

Grissom looked at it in wonder, then he looked at Greg.

The young man shrugged slightly.

"It was papa Olaf's."

Grissom reached for the band, then hesitated. He looked questioningly at Greg.

"Go ahead," the young man said resignedly.

Grissom picked the ring and placed it on his open palm. It was very heavy, and obviously old. The deep etchings that covered it were worn smooth in some areas. There were inscriptions on the insides. Names and dates.

Gil held it reverently for a long time.

"It's very beautiful," he said at last.

"It's been in our family for a long time," Greg muttered self-consciously. "Papa Olaf got it from his dad."

Gil smiled a little at Greg's reluctance. The young man may have initially brought the ring for Grissom but it was obvious that he wasn't too keen on the idea anymore. Gil understood; it was a family heirloom, after all. He knew he should simply return the ring to the young man... But first, he wanted to have a little fun with it.

"So," he said casually, "Is this a proposal?"

Greg flushed.

"Well, hum, actually, I think the correct term is 'bribe,'" he said evasivelly. "You know. A gift. Or something."

"Are you sure?" Gil insisted. "I mean, it's a ring. A wedding ring, if I'm not mistaken."

"Well, yeah. It's a wedding ring. But -"

Gil smiled. He could have tortured Greg a little more, but he couldn't do that. He loved him too much.

"I'm kidding," he said gently. He glanced at the ring one last time, put it back in the jewelry box and handed it back. "Here," he said. "You don't need to bribe me. I'm staying, and I love you. Even if I don't see you every day, it'll be ok." And he could almost believe it.

Greg took the box, paused for just a second, then shook his head.

"I don't want it back." He smiled, self-consciously. "The word 'marriage' freaks me out, but that's what it is, right?" He looked at Gil. "You said any decision had to come from me. Well... This is from me, then." He opened the box, took the ring, and handed it back.

Gil sobered up. He closed his fingers over the ring.

"That's very generous of you," he said.

"Yeah, well. You're not the only one who can give away stuff," he said casually.

"What about my stuff?" Gil asked, "I'll give you the magnifying glass, if you want it. You're not a Holmes aficionado but neither is Hodges -not really. If I said I'm a soccer fan, he'd say he is, too."

Greg picked the magnifying glass, looked thoughtfully at it, then simply put it back in its case.

"Nah," he said, "Give it to the whiny pinhead. I already got what I want. And it's the real stuff."

"The real stuff?"

"Yeah. I'm a Grissom aficionado."

The End