CSI: Sanctuary: Chapter 7

"You look like you could use some help, sir."

Greg looked up at the young woman and figured she must have thought he was crazy with books scattered on the floor surrounding him and confusion written on his face for the world to see. This was the first day he hadn't intentionally spiked his hair, though he was sure it had probably gotten there on it's own, just from his current insanity.

"Um..." He looked around the small bookstore at all the packed shelves, wondering where he should start.

"I assumed you were looking for a specific recipe, since you're in the cooking section."

"Oh, right, well, I... I don't know..." He was lost, a dive bomber about to crash into the face of the earth, with the bomb still attached, at the rate he was going.

"Ok, why don't you tell me what you're looking for. Is there a specific type of dish you want to make?" She smiled, her teeth white and perfect. But not too perfect. It was a nice smile.

Unsure what she meant, he was unsure how to respond.

"What I mean is, are you looking for say..." she paused, her eyes tilted to the ceiling as she thought for a moment. "Something from New England? You know, New England clam chowder? Or Maine lobster? Or were you looking for a book only on soups and salads? Entrees? Or something a little more southern maybe?"

"Southern!" he jumped on that, glad to be getting somewhere, finally. "That would be good... but... I'm not... I don't know how..."

"Here." Flicking her long brown ponytail over her shoulder, she pulled a book from a nearby shelf he'd completely ignored. "This covers all the basics of cooking. There's a glossary in the back for terms you may not be familiar with, and there are over a hundred recipes in it, from appetizers and soups, to entrees, breads, desserts, everything you could possibly want to cook." Then she pulled off another book from the shelf and handed it to him. "If you're lookin' for some good southern cookin', try this once you've mastered the other. This is my favorite recipe book. It includes everything a good Texan loves to eat." This time, Greg heard her thick southern accent clear as a bell. "Unless, of course, you're lookin' for a different kind of southern. Louisiana, perhaps?"

Oh, she was a winner, all right.

"No, no, Texas is just fine. Thank you! You're a life saver!" He stopped short of hugging her and taking her home to teach him what he needed to know. Just barely.

"She must be worth it for all this effort," she said, giving him a big smile again accompanied by a wink.

He grinned back, and nodded, clutching the books to his chest as he made his way to the checkout. "Oh, you'd better believe it!"

Sitting in his car, he'd gone through the beginner cook book first until he'd found a recipe that seemed somewhat easy enough. He didn't have half the things the recipe mentioned. He'd have to get a ton of spices. Maybe getting a whole spice rack would be a good idea. And what the hell was a meat tenderizer anyway? There was a kitchen store just up the street. He would stop there after he ran into the grocery store.

Not having pen and paper handy, he brought the book into the store with him and set it, open, in the baby seat of the shopping cart. Looking at the huge store in front of him with it's many isles, he groaned. All he knew were the pasta and frozen food sections. But with his intentions, he was about to learn the rest of the grocery store. He set off, determined not to fail this mission. Walking down each isle, slowly, carefully, he looked for each item he needed, and made note in his mind, where other items were kept.

Paying attention more to the shelves and what they held than to the people walking around him, he was startled when another cart rammed front first into his. He looked up, an apology already on his lips when he saw who it was he'd bumped into.

The words died in his throat and all he could do was stare, as she blinked at him. Her long brown hair was gently curled, her face all done up in perfect makeup, and her nails were long and painted pink. He figured she probably had them done at the salon every day while she was on her lunch break from playing secretary at the same location.

"Well, hello there, Gregory." Already she was giving him the creeps, as she looked him over with her cheerleader critical eye. She saw the open book and her eyes squinted extra hard to read it. A look of disgust flitted across her features.

"Hey, Kristy." He gave a short laugh, that sounded both nervous and forced. "Fancy meeting you here."

"So it is. And how are you doing? I heard you were involved in that explosion?"

Wow. She certainly didn't beat around the bush.

"Doing much better, thanks." He wouldn't mention Nick's helping him out. The polite part of any similar conversation would have him thanking Nick for all his hard work too. But since he was cooking for Nick, and he'd slept with the man on more than one occasion, he doubted it would be a good idea to bring up her husband.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," she said, her tone false all the way through. She checked her watch. "Oh, I should get going. I have to pick up Cara from daycare soon, and I've got to feed Nick before he rushes off to work tonight." She sighed like there was too many chores that needed to be done before the end of the world struck.

Greg gave a polite smile and said goodbye. Catching a glance into her cart as she headed for the checkout lanes, he worried more and more about Nick's health, and his daughter's. Healthy Choice meals filled the bottom of her cart along with a few from Weight Watchers, and some frozen vegetables. Nothing else.

"I hate Healthy Choice dinners," Nick's voice rang in his head.

Looking her over, she was as skinny as a piece of paper. Always had been. So who was getting the Weight Watchers? If she really couldn't cook, the least she could do was get her poor husband some Hungry Man dinners. What she'd just bought wouldn't fill even a quarter of his stomach. Greg shook his head, wondering how Nick had lived with her for so long already without going crazy. In his own cart, he was relieved to find all of Nick's favorites.

Continuing his shopping, he knew all she'd seen was a stupid geek when she'd looked him over. But at least where she'd failed without a single attempt, he was trying. And trying extra hard at that.

Finding himself in the isle with the spices, he couldn't believe how many there were, and how many brands made the same thing. He looked back and forth between his book and the spices on the shelf, wondering how he was going to find all the right ones.

Deciding it would be too difficult, he started grabbing spices made by the most prevalent company present. He started with the first one on the shelf and picked one of each. Oh, Nick would love this when he got home. His kitchen would look like the grocery store had exploded in it. However, he figured this way, he would be sure to have the spices he needed on hand for future use. That couldn't be a bad thing, could it? Nick would just stand there and laugh at him. Greg pictured Nick standing in his kitchen, eyes wide at all the groceries, and he had to admit, he rather liked the thought. He hadn't seen Nick laugh in a long time.

He sighed, as he pulled the last spice off the shelf. It would be even better if he and Nick weren't confined to his tiny apartment when they wanted to be together, but he also knew they couldn't leave for a variety of reasons. One of whom was just leaving the grocery store now with one bag of groceries to feed an entire family for a week. The other was at work twenty-four/seven, and consisted of several hundred people, all smartly dressed in uniform, patrolling the streets of Las Vegas. If any of their coworkers found out he and Nick were sleeping together, whether they directly worked with them or not, they could face serious trouble. There were too many homophobic cops in their city, never mind the whole world. He didn't want Nick to lose his job, his family, or his life over another man's desire to make him happy.

Nick arrived at Greg's apartment to the wonderful, mouth-watering smell of real food. Greg met him at the door, wearing a red apron covered in some sort of spicy sauce.

"G? What the hell's going on in here?"

Once the door was firmly shut and locked behind him, Greg pulled him in for a quick kiss. "I'm cooking," he said.

"I can see that. Are you sure there's going to be enough left over once you're done?" When Greg gave him a confused look he explained, "It looks like you're wearing most of it." He couldn't help but chuckle as he said it.

Greg stuck his lower lip out in a pout which only made Nick laugh harder until he'd turned and left the room.

Following Greg into the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was the PostIt note on the refrigerator. It was the first thing he always noticed upon entering the room these days, even when he was sleep deprived, or when Greg was doing his best to distract him. Three more magnets had been added to it, one for each corner, ensuring it wouldn't go anywhere. He'd done the right thing and it made him feel good to know that.

He then looked around him at the multitude of empty plastic grocery bags swirling all over the floor. Food overflowed the counter and the table. Some of it was still in the bags Greg had brought it home in. Nick shook his head at the crazy mess. That was Greg.

"What is all this? You were actually telling the truth?"

"I was," Greg said, turning to smile at Nick, making his stomach do a little flip-floping dance. Then he turned back to the meat in the pan on the counter and started to shake something over it. A spice perhaps? "I figured I really needed to start eating better than just take out every night, you know?" He put the meat in the oven and set the timer.

Wow. Shocked, didn't begin to describe how he felt just then. The moment he'd said 'I do' to his wife, she told him she couldn't cook. She'd never even tried, that he knew of, and yet she refused to let him do anything in the kitchen. And here was Greg, a sauce splattered cookbook in one hand, a mixing spoon in the other, working on stirring whatever was in the large pot on the stove. It was obvious Greg was trying very hard. No one had ever gone this far for him before.

Greg set the book down, took the spoon out of the pot, turned down the burner, and set a lid on it. When he turned back to Nick, there was a glint in his brown eyes. He walked over to the spot where Nick had stopped upon seeing the mess. "And, yes, I figured you could do better in the food department too."

"Thank you."

"You're so very welcome." Greg grinned as he leaned forward for another kiss, careful not to get his food covered apron anywhere near Nick's clean clothes.

Nick hadn't seen Greg, alone, in several days. Several days too long. He brought him in closer, teasing his mouth open with his tongue. The other man groaned when he licked the roof of his mouth, tasting a wide array of foods Greg must have taste-tested earlier. Was that spaghetti sauce? Oh God... tasting food right out of his mouth was hotter than he ever could have imagined. Damn...

"Hold the reigns there cowboy, I don't want to burn the steak."

"I don't care what you do to it. It's better than anything I've eaten in the last..." he trailed off. "It's been a long time."

"Since my cooking skills suck, I guess that means I can't botch it up." Greg gave him another quick kiss. "Why don't you go set the table while I finish the cooking."

"I'll have to clean it off first. Are you sure you don't want to eat in the livingroom like we usually do?"

"No, I want to have a real dinner with you."

Nick nodded. Wow. Would the shock ever wear off?

"Do you care where I put this stuff?"

"Anywhere you can find room."

As he began putting the rest of the food away, Nick was reminded of the letter he'd received at work. He might not have gotten the promotion, but even if he had, the way things had turned out with Greg he would have had to turn it down anyway. Either that, or he'd have to let Greg go, and he wasn't sure he would be capable of giving up the sweet meat he'd already tasted, without starving to death.

"Nick?"

He jumped at Greg's voice.

"You've been staring off into space holding that same can of green beans for almost five minutes. There should be some room in that cupboard up there." Greg pointed to the space above the refrigerator.

"Right. Up there. Yeah."

"You ok?"

Nick put the can of vegetables away and turned to face Greg. "I've got some good news to share with you."

Greg's eyes lit up. "You got the promotion?" He sounded just like a kid at Christmas getting his first bicycle.

"No."

"No? So, that's not the good news you wanted to share? Or no, you didn't get the key position?"

Nick sighed, but smiled. "No, I didn't get the position..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I know Sara really wanted it. It's all she could talk about. You really deserved it, though. You shouldn't have to kiss up to the boss in order to get promoted."

"Actually, G, if you'd let me finish..."

"Sorry." Greg blushed and turned back to something he was cooking on the stove. "What were you going to say?"

"Sara didn't get the promotion either."

"She didn't?"

He dug the letter out of his back pocket, unfolded it, and handed it over to Greg. He watched Greg's eyes scan the document, widening when he got to the important parts. He blinked, neither smiling nor frowning and looked up at Nick. "Is this your good news?" He was confused.

Nick shook his head, knowing Greg didn't understand. He stepped forward and plucked the letter out of Greg's hands, setting it down on the table. "Yes. It is my good news. I applied for that position before we were this serious together. If we had been serious back then, I wouldn't have applied. Conflict of interest and all."

"But..."

Nick took his arms in hand, holding him still so he paid attention. "I never cared about getting the promotion, you know that. But now, you get the opportunity to get the job you really want. I wouldn't want to take that away from you." Nick leaned in and kissed a stunned Greg. "Congratulations, G."

A smile began to work its way across Greg's face, though he was still too surprised to be able to speak.

When they sat down to eat just a few minutes later Greg said, "If you hate it, you can tell me."

"I love it already." Nick looked at his plate with it's odd conglomeration of steak, mashed potatoes, spaghetti, and a few strawberries off to the side.

"Yeah, right. It looks charred on one side. Maybe we should get take out."

"Greg..."

Greg raised his head.

"Just eat."

While they did just that, the younger man proceeded to tell him about his shopping experiences. Nick laughed so hard it hurt. God, when was the last time he'd ever laughed so much? His daughter was good at making him laugh. And his wife was real good at killing the mood ten seconds later.

"Nick?" Greg looked a little concerned.

"What?" Had he been spacing out while Greg talked again? What had he missed?

"I saw her today. At the store."

"Who?"

"Kristy," he rushed her name as if Nick wouldn't catch it the faster he said it. "I just wanted you to know."

"Shit." What a way to kill the mood. But Greg wasn't Kristy. He was just concerned.

A warm hand smoothed over his and held it against the table. "She doesn't know. I promise. I didn't let anything slip. We met, said hi, exchanged stupid pleasantries, and went our separate ways. I promise. Just... incase she says anything, I wanted you to know what happened from me first. I don't want you freaking out or anything."

Nick could only nod, feeling a little numb inside.

"I almost got lost," Greg said. "I know where the frozen food isle is, you know, right next to the ice cream. And the pasta isle, and of course the canned soup isle. But spices? And steak? Potatoes? Forget it. Apparently, I have a lot to learn about that place."

His light remark caught in Nick's brain before it had a chance to slip out the opposite ear. It sank into the tissue and actually made sense. He chuckled, glad Greg was good at reversing a bad conversation quickly.

"I'd say you have a lot to learn about your own kitchen, never mind the grocery store. It'll take at least a week to clean up the mess you made in here. But really, G, you did good."

Greg beamed, his cheeks dusting in red.

"But I can't let you keep doing this."

His face fell.

"At least, not without some help." Nick paused to take in the uncertain look he was getting before he forged on. "Some people don't know how to cook, and yet, they still refuse help in the kitchen. It's like they have their own agenda and refuse to listen to anyone else. And then there are other people who claim not to know how to cook, but they're trying really hard, and their cooking isn't nearly as bad as they think it is." Here, Nick stopped to wink at the guy on the other side of the table. "Now, I'm hoping the second type aren't like the first, and maybe they'll want, or accept, a little help in the kitchen if someone's willing to give it."

"Gee, what a way to beat around the bush. Of course you can help me cook. But tell me, are your cooking skills any better than mine?"

"Probably not."

Greg snorted. "Alrighty then. I'll wash. You dry?"

Nick agreed and they got to work, getting the dishes done in short order. While he was putting them away, he couldn't help but think of their plans for the rest of the night. They never really had any before and tonight wasn't too much different. He assumed there would be some tv watching, whether a movie or video game playing, he wasn't sure, followed by sleep. He hoped there would be sleep before work, because Greg was actually comforting to sleep with, and a joy to wake up to, even when he was grilling Nick about his bad choice in women.

But when he thought about watching a movie, it seemed almost boring, in comparison to what Greg had done for him already. There had to be a way to return the generous favor, but he wasn't sure how. Unless Greg was expecting some extra attention in bed later. Was he? Had he cooked for him just to get amazing sex in return? As far as Nick knew, Greg wasn't seeing anyone else. While he, himself, hadn't had sex with his wife since Cara had been conceived, technically, he still had someone else in his life with whom he could still be sleeping. Was Greg so lonely he would go this far for company and comfort? He didn't seem like the type. But before they'd gotten together Nick wouldn't have pegged Greg as someone who was really into him, so who was he to judge?

If that wasn't the case, he needed to do something to repay him. He couldn't bring him flowers. That would look odd to anyone who saw him, and besides Greg was a guy. He probably didn't want flowers. Or chocolate. He couldn't buy him jewelry... well, not something he'd buy a woman. A watch maybe? Or was that too expensive to repay someone for an amazing dinner?

"Hey you, what's going on? What's so stuck in your thoughts that you can't hear me chattering away about our movie selection?"

Greg gave his arm a pat and he jolted to attention. He'd finished putting the dishes away and moved into the livingroom, seemingly on autopilot.

"Sorry. Nothing." Nick looked up and found Greg's eyes watching him, as if he already knew what Nick was thinking about. "I just need to repay you for all this and I..."

"Nicky," Greg moved to straddle him on the couch, his knees on either side of Nick's thighs while his arms draped over Nick's shoulders. "You don't have to do anything to repay me. The only thing I ever want in return for anything I do for you, is for you to be happy. I just want you happy."

"That's it?" Nick was sure he'd start crying like a girl any moment if Greg kept this up.

"That's it."

Nick's face broke into a little grin, and he started to laugh. "The shock's never going to wear off... never..."

As Greg's hands ran up his bare arms, goose bumps broke out over his skin at the delicate touch. It didn't take much work on Greg's part to arouse him and he wondered what it would be like having him around all the time.

"I'm suddenly not feeling like a movie anymore. What about you?"

Nick shook his head. "I wish there was something else we could do. Don't get me wrong, I love watching movies. I just don't want that to get boring. I actually kinda miss going to the gym with you."

"But the relay race was only two weeks ago. You miss working out that much?"

Greg's hands ran through his hair. His fingers felt good. Relaxing.

"Yeah, I do. It helped to give me a purpose for living. For awhile, anyway. But I know you were uncomfortable with those cops there. I know you started to workout out because of what they said to you."

"You heard that?"

"I'm sorry I never said anything at the time. I wanted to. I just... didn't know what to say."

"There wasn't much you could have done, other than get yourself in trouble with them. It's fine. It's over. I'm not thinking about it and neither should you."

"Ok."

Greg had been through a lot after the explosion and it must have hardened him a little, to be able to deflect the things that hurt. If only Nick could have some of that hardness any time he had to deal with his wife, everything would be so much better.

"So, what were you thinking then?"

"I was thinking maybe you could be my running buddy and we could go jogging around your neighborhood. No one would suspect anything. We're just friends who like to workout together. It happens every day. Warrick and I used to until I got married."

"But the next relay isn't for another year, Nick. I'm sorry we lost. I really am. But, do you feel you need a purpose in life that badly?" Greg looked confused and a little hurt.

"No. No, I don't. It's not about winning. It never was. Besides, I'd rather we lost with every member of our team still intact, than have a man down permanently, if you know what I mean." This time, as Nick raised his hand he let it touch Greg's face, caressing it, holding his lover, thankful nothing had happened to either of them.

"Yeah. I know."

"I just want to be able to share something important with you outside of work. I'm tired of being cooped up in here, but I can't stop spending my time with you. Jogging would get us out of here, keep us active. Forget about next year's race. I'm not even planning to sign up."

"Like we're not active enough as it is." Greg's smile returned, along with a seductive wink.

Need rushed to fill Nick and he surged forward to press their lips together, curling his hand around the back of Greg's head. When they broke apart, he said, "That's not what I meant."

"It's not?" Greg's grin widened, turning mischievous.

"Proper exercise. That's what I'm talking about."

"I like that idea." Greg licked his lips, his eyes seemingly locked on Nick's mouth.

"You do?"

"Have you ever seen yourself after a workout? Hot, sweat drenched, sexy..." This time it was Greg who leaned forward for a deep, probing kiss. "Very sexy." His fingers began to unbutton Nick's shirt and his voice went down to a whisper, "Did I mention sexy?"

"Mmm, several times. But you can say it again."

Greg's laugh was low and throaty. "Very, very sexy. I was on fire after every workout. Oh, the number of times I would have jumped you if we weren't in a public setting full of cops."

"So, was that a yes to jogging with me?"

"Did you want to start right now?" The words were whispered into his ear with so much seductiveness, a shiver ran up his spine.

"How about tomorrow?"

Their lips connected again and Nick's hands reached under Greg's t-shirt to caress his chest, already imagining what he would do to him once his clothes were off...