Title: Ad Infinitum
By: postnotice
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Note: Don't take any of the foreign language for serious. I got it off the Internet, and we all know how reliable the Internet is. ;) If you know Norwegian, I'd love to know what it's actually supposed to be. :P (Or Icelandic, for that matter). I looked through this to the best of my own abilities. But eventually, everything I write turns into word-mush. Mistakes (or terrible inconsistencies) are all my fault. If you point mistakes out (constructively)/nicely, you get cookies! :)
Summary: "In hindsight, Nick was surprised he hadn’t left sooner." Nick relives their relationship and their break up through Greg's Norwegian proverbs.

"Come on, Greg, let's get you home," Nick said, pulling Greg from the booth he and Sara had been sitting in moments before. "You're wasted."

Greg grabbed on to Nick's forearm, staring up at him with a grin. "I don't wanna."

Nick smiled a little, looked to Sara for help. "They're gonna kick us out, G."

"So let 'em," Greg replied with a wave of his hand. Nick looked a little defeated, again looking to Sara.

She shrugged. "I dunno, but you're gonna have to work this one out on your own.. Friend of mine from San Francisco's flying in, I told her I'd meet her at the airport." Sara smirked at them, waving a little as she left the bar.

"Good, she's gone," Greg said as he raised his bottle to his lips again. "I'd wondered when she'd leave."

Nick tapped his nails against the side of a glass, not really sure what to say. "You like Sara, G."

Greg shrugged, slamming the bottle back on the table and rattling the remaining glass bottles and cups. "Yeah. I like you more, though." Nick fought back a blush, trying not to smile. "Det er håp i hengende snøre, Nicky."

What?"

"There is hope as long as your fishing-line is in the water," Greg said, looking up at Nick with wide eyes. Nick swallowed. "Tell me. Is your fishing-line in or out?" Nick didn't answer. "In or out?"

Hesitating for just another second before reaching around and settling his hand on the back of Greg's neck, Nick replied, "In," and pulled him into a kiss.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Nick sighs, tosses and turns in his bed again, trying to get comfortable. It's been a week since Greg left, a week since he'd started sleeping alone again after a year, and he can never find a position that's comfortable long enough for him to drift off. He'd taken to sleeping on the couch in the breakroom at work.

It didn't take long for Nick to work out that the entire reason he couldn't sleep at home was that, for the last year, he'd slept with Greg next to him. The couch in the break room reminded him enough of work and dreariness that he was able to fall asleep without as much as a thought about Greg.

But Grissom wasn't going to let him sleep at work for too long; that much Nick knew.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was early morning, right after Nick had clocked out. Dead on his feet, he walked towards the break room, intent on jumpstarting himself with caffeine before he went home. If only Grissom would let him sleep on the couch in the breakroom for an hour or so…

"If a man has no coffee in him, he is incapable of understanding truth and beauty," a voice behind him said, light with humor. Nick allowed himself to relax a little, thankful his latest case hadn't gotten everyone in a terrible mood.

"I thought it was, 'If a man has no tea in him, he is incapable of understanding truth and beauty?'" Greg brightened with a smile, following Nick in to the break room.

"So I maybe took some liberties." He watched as Nick filled a Styrofoam cup with coffee. "Summer heater, winter fan," he said.

Nick glanced back, eyebrows raised. "Sorry, did Grissom just walk by and I miss him?"

Greg smiled again and gestured to the coffee with a nod of his head. "Coffee's decaf. Not gonna do much to keep you awake."

With a groan, Nick dumped the coffee from his cup and, after a moment, dumped the rest of the pot out with it. "You could've just told me that instead of impersonating Grissom."

"And miss out on all that fun?" Greg said, his eyes sparkling.

Fun. Nick thought that before he met Greg, he had fun all the time. Maybe not the general, public version of fun, but fun all the same. Greg had redefined 'fun' for him, sending him to new places and new restaurants and generally living life. Nick had never really thought he was a boring guy, not really, but a few weeks of dating Greg made him realize that there was a reason his nieces and nephews didn't spend hours with him; he was boring.

He read a lot, watched documentaries on TV when he did decide he could handle it. He did his taxes every year when he was supposed to, made sure all the utility bills were paid before he bought anything else. Greg had said early on that he was a 'routine man' – things were the same; that Nick woke up every morning, and did the same thing every day.

Nick didn't really know that routine was a bad thing, but when he voiced that, Greg was quick to correct him.

"Not bad," he'd said. "Boring."


"I'm…" Nick started, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I've never done this." When Greg broke out in a huge smile, Nick quickly amended, "With a guy. It's still really weird for me. Not, not in a bad way," he said at Greg's raised eyebrow. "A good way. It's just. Different. It might take me a while to get used to this."

"Rom ble ikke bygget på en dag, Nicky."

Blinking a few times as his mind tried to register that, Nick stared forward. "Pardon?"

Greg smiled, wide and accepting. "Rome wasn't built in a day. We'll take all the time you need, alright?" He leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to Nick's. "No need to rush it."

Greg was surprisingly patient. In hindsight, Nick was surprised he hadn't left sooner. Nick was wound tight nearly all the time, and he was comfortable enough that way that if anyone tried to unwind him, he got defensive. Greg was the only one who was stubborn enough not to let things go unless he knew there wasn't any chance he'd get it out of Nick.

There was so much evil in the world, though, and Nick's best coping method was to bottle it up and store it away, forget about it. It had been his method for years. But Greg thought the best method was bitching. Not heart-to-hearts, but full on, who-pissed-in-your-Cheerios bitching. Nick was perfectly fine with listening to Greg complain about cases, about murderers and rapists and kidnappers until dawn or dusk, but Nick wasn't the kind of guy to share that kind of thing. Nick really wasn't the kind of guy to share much of anything.

Greg made it easier, but at the same time harder. Nick was constantly fighting an internal battle; he wanted so badly to tell Greg, because Nick knew his silence was eating Greg up inside, but at the same time, Greg knowing what was going through his head every time a case was too troubling at work was a little much to handle. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to handle seeing someone who knew everything about him, all the time, at work and at home.

"Hey, Nick, Nicky, come on, wake up, just a nightmare," Greg soothed, resting a hand on the small of Nick's back. "Nicky…"

Fully awake, Nick blinked up at Greg with wide eyes. "God. I—"

"I know. Don't worry about it."

Nick's blush was barely noticeable. "I just. It's not going to happen again. Why do I keep having dreams that it does? And I keep… Freaking out. When I see…" he trailed off.

"Av skade blir man klok." Greg answered, his voice still soft and careful. Nick's nightmares were, up until that moment, uncharted territory between the two of them. Nick gave him a blank look. "Injuries make one wise."

Nick didn't reply, just put his hand on the back of Greg's neck and guided him into a kiss.

Maybe he had been stupid to think that Greg wouldn't be able to read him; that Greg couldn't see straight through him. Greg understood him better than most of Nick's family did. When Nick's family had visited him in the hospital, they hardly understood the hints Nick kept dropping about them going back home or to the hotel; they kept laughing them off or saying that they weren't going to leave until they knew Nick would be fine. Finally, Greg had to state it plainly that Nick was tired and needed to sleep, so maybe they should go.

Nick hadn't even said a word to him about being overcrowded. It was a little surprising. Greg had gone too, just to keep up appearances, but sneaked back into the building once the other's had headed to the hotel.

He hadn't said anything about that either, but Greg knew how to read him.

"Mmm… Feels good."

"You just need to relax more often, Nick," Greg said, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck as he dug his hands gently into the tense muscles in Nick's back.

Nick let out a soft moan. "I wouldn't need to if the damn job didn't have me so tense."

Greg cocks his head to the side and says, "Den som vil bli med på leken må tåle steken. He who wants to play must accept bad consequences."

"You keep using…"

"Norwegian proverbs."

"Okay, Norwegian proverbs. You keep using 'em and make me feel… Inadequate."

Greg chuckled, standing up from where he was seated on the back of Nick's legs and helps him back into a sitting position. "Believe me. You're not inadequate."

Nick's not entirely sure if that's one of the reasons that sent Greg away or not – that Nick felt he was inadequate. All Nick knows is that if he wasn't inadequate before, he is now. There's no reason Greg should ever take him back, not after everything he'd done, starting with shoving Greg out of his mind, out of his feelings and shortcomings. He was far too indecisive and he'd hurt Greg trying to figure out whether he wanted him in his head or not.

'Which was entirely stupid,' Nick reminds himself. 'Depending on each other is what a relationship is all about. Being a team.'

"Tankeløst hode får lettest sove."

Nick jumped, glancing to his side to see that Greg was staring up at the ceiling. He swallowed. "What?"

"An empty head gets the easiest sleep. What're you thinking about?"

Nick tried to turn his gaze back to the ceiling but found himself lost in Greg's silhouette. "The case."

Greg flipped over, then, propping himself up with his elbow as he stared down at Nick. "You did what you could do."

Tearing his eyes away, Nick turned back to the ceiling "Yeah, it doesn't feel like enough."

There wasn't a response from Greg. He just draped an arm across Nick's stomach and settled in close.

Nick's not even sure when he'd started being such an asshole. He's not even sure what set it off. All he knows is that if he had the chance to go back and fix it all, he would, without a second thought.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"I don't want to talk about it!" Nick said, heavy tone in his voice that begged Greg to drop it. "The sooner I can go home and forget tonight even happened, the sooner I can move on, alright?"

At Greg's silence, Nick turned back around to face him. "Ingen kan hjelpe den som ikke vil hjelpe seg sjøl." Nick shook his head.

"What does that mean?"

"No one can help someone who will not help himself," Greg clarified, steely look in his eyes. "I'm going home."

Nick only watched as Greg turned on his heel and headed towards the locker room. He knew he should've done something, but he didn't know what.

Looking back on it, Nick knows exactly what he should've done. He should have followed him, apologized, done anything to fix things. They hadn't been communicating – at least, Nick hadn't been communicating. He should have started, then. That was the obvious choice, in hindsight.

But hindsight doesn't change the fact that Greg was packing when Nick got home.

"G, don't… Don't do this."

"You know what Papa Olaf used to say to me?" When his only response was a blank look, Greg continued, "Lík börn leika best."

Nick swallowed and said, "That doesn't sound Norwegian."

Greg paused a moment, still staring at Nick with a hard look in his eyes. "It's not. It's Icelandic." Greg paused again, waiting for Nick to reply.

"What's it mean?"

"Similar children play best together. You know why he told me that?" Nick shook his head. "He thought we were too different. Now… I think I might believe him."

With that, Greg slung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up his bags. "I'll see you at work."

"I'm an idiot," Nick growls into his pillow, closing his eyes. "I'm a fucking idiot."

But what's there to do? If he goes to Greg's apartment, he'll just succeed in hurting him more, and Nick doesn't want him to be in any more pain. Greg doesn't deserve it, and he certainly doesn't deserve it from Nick.

His phone rings incessantly for a good fifteen minutes, loud and pounding in his head, and he finally reaches over and croaks an angry, "What?" at whoever's bothering him, completely unprofessional but he doesn't care.

"You're a real ass, you know that?" Sara?

"Sara?"

"What did you do to him?" Nick sits up in his bed. "I've never seen him this way."

Nick swallows. Greg went to Sara. Which means he not only has to deal with the wrath of Greg, he also has to deal with Sara's wrath. And there's no way she would understand, not that that's a bad thing. He deserves everybody to hate him. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one who needs to hear that," she says, but her voice is softer, like she might maybe get it. "Whatever you did wrong, you need to fix it. He's acting like coming to Vegas was a big mistake." Nick feels like his lungs are going to turn to dust at that, and he coughs a couple times, stalling. "I swear to God, Nick, if we all lose him because of some stupid mistake you made…"

"Where is he, is he there with you?" he asks, already standing up from his bed and redressing.

"He just left, said he was going back to his apartment."

Nick nods, thanks her, and hangs up. He has no idea what he's going to say, but hopefully seeing Greg and knowing that it's now or never will make the words come. It's the only chance he has.

A long time ago, Greg told him another proverb. At the time, Nick just passed it into 'things Greg says when he's too drunk to think straight,' but it definitely applies right now. "There is hope as long as your fishing-line is in the water." Greg was going to take his metaphorical fishing line out of the water soon, and if Nick didn't work quickly, there wouldn't be any hope left.

He got to Greg's apartment building quicker than Greg did, if the fact that his car was missing from the parking lot was any indication, so he stood in the lobby, trying not to attract too much attention to himself to the people passing in and out of the building. Eventually, he started looking down the list of extension numbers, at least trying to look busy, trying to get eyes off his back. Fifteen minutes later, after four or five people had asked him if he needed help with something, Greg showed.

"What are you doing here?"

Licking his lips, Nick turned around to face him. "I need to fix things," are the only words out of his mouth, and he's surprised that his lips work when all his brain can think is 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' "Can I...?"

Greg almost looks like he wants to just let Nick ramble his apologies right there in the lobby of his apartment building, but the prying eyes of his neighbors sets him off. "Fine. Fifteen minutes. You're out after that."

Nick silently thanks Sara for calling him and motivating him to get his ass in gear, and follows Greg up to his apartment on the third floor. Greg doesn't say a word, but doesn't give off the vibe that he wants Nick to, either, so Nick walks quietly behind him, watches as Greg pulls out his keys and unlocks his door. Throws them onto the table and runs a hand over his face.

A minute passes, and Nick can feel Greg's eyes on him, but he looks around instead of making eye contact, notices that Greg still hasn't unpacked his bags, and a flicker of hope settles in his stomach. "Clock's ticking, Nick."

He takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry. I know... I know that's not all that needs to be said, but it's the best thing to start off with. And I am. You have no idea how sorry I am. I didn't know what I would be missing until you were already gone. I can't sleep. I can't get comfortable without you there. I can only sleep at work. The couch in the breakroom doesn't remind me of you. It doesn't smell like you."

Greg swallows, his hand twitching on the countertop like he isn't sure what to do with it. "Kind of smells like old coffee grounds and dirt. And decomp."

Nick chokes out laughter, picking up one of Greg's shirts from the back of his couch. "Yeah. Yeah, it kind of does." He's silent for another minute or two, fingering the fabric of Greg's shirt.

"Anything else or should I kick you out early?"

Setting the shirt back on the back of the couch, Nick looks up to meet Greg's eyes. His heart pounds almost painfully against his ribcage. Relentless. "I miss you," he says softly, wanting so badly to touch Greg but knowing that's unfair. "More than I've ever missed anyone."

Greg doesn't give any sign that he should stop, so Nick continues. "I was a jerk. I didn't... I thought I had things all worked out, and I didn't. I thought that it'd be nice to finally have somebody would knew what I was going through, y'know? Who knew what I dealt with every night, went through the same things. But... I started thinking that was a bad idea. That if you knew me too well it'd interfere with our working relationship."

"Are you kidding me? Nick, our working relationship was always perfect. It still is. I think this last week we've worked better together than we ever have."

"I know," Nick says, rubbing his forehead. "I know. And it was stupid to think that you might..." he trails off, unwilling to finally admit it.

"That I might what? Ruin your career because of a lover's quarrel about something? Come on. I don't bring that into work unless you're having a problem that's stemming from it."

"I couldn't open up to you," Nick says, switching the subject quickly. "I don't know why. I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I kept wondering if it'd be an issue at work or not."

Greg scoffs and crosses his arms. "Nice to know you think I'm incapable of keeping work and home separate."

Sensing that Greg was going to throw him out at any moment, Nick was quick to correct him. "I don't. I mean, I do think you're capable. Those were entirely my own insecurities, and I shouldn't have projected them on to you. But I did." He watches Greg for a few seconds. "I'll do anything to make this right."

"Det er håp i hengende snøre."

"Mmm?"

The corner's of Greg's lips twitch, and he wraps his hand around the bottle on the coffee table in front of him. "There is hope as long as your fishing-line is in the water." He raises the bottle to his lips and takes a long drink.

Nick swallows, feels himself start to smile as he reaches across the table and takes the bottle, finishing it off before setting it to the side. "You've told me that before. When we got together."

"Yeah. And then Sara came back and interrupted us because she'd forgotten her jacket," Greg says with a chuckle. "I never forgave her for that. Every time we kissed I wondered if she was going to pop up again." He watches Nick for a few minutes as he picks at a stray string on his shirt absently.

"Why all the proverbs?" Nick asks. Greg just shrugs.

"I dunno. At the time I thought it was a good idea. " There's nothing else to say, and neither of them try to force it. Greg just stares while Nick looks at the floor, his mind obviously in a different place. Finally, just when he thinks Nick might get up and leave, call it quits, he says, "Is your fishing-line in or out, Nick?"

Surprised, Nick looks up at him, eyebrows knitted together. "What?"

"Is your fishing-line in or out?"

Nick knows he won't be able to hide the grin spreading across his face, so he doesn't. "You're sure?"

Greg forces himself not to return the smile, as much as he wants to. "I'm sure. If you're not going to try to keep me out of your issues again." A moment of silence. "So, in or out?"

The moment of truth. Nick licks his lips, still staring, and nods his head. "In."

This time, Greg pulls him across the table with the collar of his shirt and kisses him. "In?"

"Por siempre."


Lík börn leika best [Icelandic, apparently] - Similar children play best together

Por siempre [Spanish] – forever

Ad infinitum [Latin] - continue, without limit / to infinity

Like I said, though, don't take any of these for real. The only ones I know without a doubt are spot-on are por siempre [which can also go as para siempre, I guess, but I don't know enough about Spanish to know which one would be used in this context] and ad infinitum.