Title: A Touchy Subject
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5_prompts, Written in the Stars challenge
Prompt: A4, Money will continue to be a touchy subject
Author's Note: Spoilers for the S3 CSI: Vegas episode "Precious Metal."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders, unfortunately, just borrowing him for a while. Please do not sue.***
Greg put down the book he'd been trying to read, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. He hadn't been able to sleep when he'd gotten home from work this morning; there was too much in his mind, too many thoughts jostling for precedence.
What he had told Grissom near the end of his shift still rang true. When he was in the lab, there were four walls around him; he felt as though his world was reduced to those four walls, to the lab that he did his work in. There seemed to be nothing outside of it.
But when he had been out in the field, he'd felt that he was doing so much more for the team than just giving them the results of DNA testing. He felt as though he was actually part of the team, not just someone who helped them achieve their desired results.
He loved his job. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't. He knew that he was good at what he did, and there was a certain finesse to working with DNA. Not everybody could do it well; he was proud of how far he'd come since he'd started working here.
Still, there were times when it wasn't enough. He was happy in his job, in some ways, but he wanted more. He wanted to be out there in the field, working the cases, not just waiting for the CSIs to bring part of those cases back to him.
He wanted to feel as though he belonged, Greg told himself with a sigh. And right now, he didn't. Oh, he was useful to the team; he didn't doubt that. But he always felt that he was on the outside looking in, never really part of them.
Grissom had told him that there would be a pay cut, but that didn't worry him. He was making more money than he could spend; he'd already saved up quite a lot. And his parents were definitely upper-class. If he needed help, he only had to ask.
Of course, if he ever did need financial help, that would involve his parents trying to get him to move back to San Gabriel and live with them again. Greg closed his eyes, resting his head in one hand, not wanting to contemplate what that would be like.
He loved his parents. He really did. They had done so much for him -- they had sent him to college, put him through his training with the crime lab in New York, and helped him out financially there, as well as when he'd first come here. He owed them a lot.
But no matter how much he loved them, he could never live at home again. His mother was way too overprotective of him; if she knew some of the hazards that he'd faced since he'd left home, she would be shocked and insist that he never set foot out of the house.
If he got the chance to go out in the field, even just training as a CSI could be a lot more dangerous than the work he did in the lab. That was one reason that his parents didn't have a problem with what he did now -- they felt that it was safe.
He didn't want to tell them that there was always the possible of some volatile chemical exploding if it was left unattended; a lot of accidents could happen in a lab. But he'd kept quiet about that, not wanting his parents to be worried about his job.
That was a problem that he just didn't need, Greg told himself wryly. As much as he loved his parents, he didn't want to bring them here, to Vegas, to meet everyone that he worked with. And he didn't want their overprotectiveness to rub off on the team.
Besides, if his parents came here, then they would more than likely insist on being extravagant around the team; he didn't want everyone that he worked with to discover that his family was wealthy. That would be yet another problem that he didn't want on his plate.
He knew that there were some CSIs who worried about money; for some reason, the people who were in the more dangerous position didn't make as much as the lab techs. That seemed unfair to Greg, but he was more than willing to take a pay cut to work as a CSI.
Just as he'd told Grissom, the money didn't matter to him. It was about the job, about being happy with what he did. That was the important issue; money would never be a touchy subject with him, though it always was with his mother whenever they talked.
She always worried about whether he was making enough for what he did; Greg understood that she had grown up poor, and that she had done well in marrying his father. Fortunately, it had been a love match; she hadn't married only for money.
But it would always be a touchy subject with her, whether she admitted it or not. And she would always want to make sure that he had enough, which in turn was a touchy subject with him. Talk about a vicious circle! Greg thought, shaking his head.
He didn't care about the pay cut. If it meant that he had to tighten his belt financially a little once he was a CSI, that didn't matter. Money didn't make him happy; it never had. Maybe that was because it had always been there, and he'd never really had to think about it.
That was one of the reasons his parents had been glad that he'd taken a job in the field that he was in; he would never starve or have to look for a job. There would always be a place for someone with his skills, in his field of work, no matter where he went.
But that didn't mean that he would always be happy with what he was doing, Greg told himself, heaving another sigh. He wasn't unhappy now, but he was restless -- and he knew all too well what that kind of restlessness could eventually lead to.
He didn't want to get to the point where he wasn't happy with what he was doing. He loved the lab, and he loved his work, but he needed something more. Not just to feel that he was more a part of the team, but to satisfy a need within himself.
He needed to be out there, feeling that he was doing something to help people. And if that meant taking a pay cut, which was what Grissom seemed to think he might be worried about -- then it didn't matter. Money would never be a touchy subject with him.
Now all he had to do was to talk with Grissom about what he wanted, Greg thought, getting to his feet and snapping off the lamp before he headed down the hallway to his bedroom. And that would probably prove to be the hardest part of the future he wanted to plan.***
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