Title: A Well-Made Mistake
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Note: Beta'd by the wondrous catlover2x.
Summary: Nick wants to make a mistake - why can't he make a mistake? Written for the "mistake" challenge at LJ's ngchallenge.

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Nick Stokes would be the first to tell you that he had made plenty of mistakes in his life, despite all his intentions to do otherwise. In fact, you would only have to look at his third year in the Las Vegas Crime Lab when his ill-fated dalliance with a local hooker had almost killed his career.

Not that he would have done anything differently, even if he could go back in time. He knew he would still try to help Kristy, even after everything her killer boyfriend had told him about how he was another chump being taken for another ride by her.

So Nick had become a little warier, although he still found himself in situations where he involved himself willingly to help a person out. He couldn't help it. It was in his nature. He had had it instilled in him from an early age "“ it helped when your parents were both in law, justice became your backbone, and fairness the harness attached to it. He was wearing a badge of sorts before he even joined the police force in Dallas.

But he wanted to head off mistakes before they happened now "“ when he realised they were mistakes to begin with.

Such as developing feelings for a co-worker.

The object of his affections surprised even himself, and would sure as hell shock anybody else who knew Nick Stokes.

Greg Sanders. The goofy, yet super-intelligent lab technician who treated his space as if he was the spider in the nursery rhyme courting the fly. He knew there was a chemistry (pun intended) between them "“ the longer-held-than-usual looks between them, the flirty puns, the unnecessary touches weren't only coming from his end. But they worked together, and that spelt disaster. A huge mistake. And Nick Stokes had promised himself that he wouldn't make those any more.

I'm always doing what I think I should
Almost always doing everybody good

The song in the music store had almost spoken to him on a preternatural level. That snippet had gone straight to his brain and jerked his head upright from where he had been browsing in the new release section.

I've acquired quite a taste
For a well-made mistake, I wanna
Make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake?


He had felt goofy, approaching the counter and asking what it was playing. But it had seemed to speak to him directly, succinctly telling him his own thoughts. The guy serving him had raised an eyebrow at Nick's interest and then pointed him towards the independent section. Nick had felt as if he was in a strange land where Greg would have been the natural guide, weaving him through music he had never bothered paying attention to and artists that had never throbbed through his stereo.

Fiona Apple. Even her name sounded kinda weird. But that song"¦*

He played it over and over again on the drive home, and by the time he reached his driveway he knew it by heart.

As with most people who buy a new album it didn't leave the tray of his stereo player for the next few days, except to accompany him for the drive into work. It haunted him during his shifts, always echoing underneath his movements and his breathing as if he was on a movie screen and it was the song on the soundtrack of his scene. Its volume seemed to increase whenever he saw Greg working in the lab, and decrease when he passed him by. It drowned out all other noise bar Greg's voice when he had to ask for lab results.

Warrick and Catherine began ribbing him for seeming unfocused. Sara tilted her head and gave him one of her rare smiles. Greg however, seemed his oblivious self, cheerfully prattling away about something or other in Nick's presence and never noticing his current effect upon him.

I wanna make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake?

But it would be a mistake, and four minutes and fifty-eight seconds of a song couldn't erase years of doing what should be done rather than what he wanted, despite the ramifications.

He had to keep telling himself that. But Fiona sang to him otherwise. She was goading him, trying to make him cave. And he was getting to the point where he could no longer put up any resistance. Because he wanted Greg.

At the end of shift, he entered the locker room and wearily changed out of the coveralls he'd been wearing to strip a car. He hummed the same tune to himself, perhaps getting a little too carried away when he came to the line he felt the most.

I wanna make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake?

"Anybody can, and they should. It's what makes life interesting."

He hadn't even heard anybody enter, hadn't even realised he had sung the line aloud. And of course, it had to be Greg catching him out. He was balancing precariously on the tips of his Converse sneakers and then resting on his heels, up and down, up and down, until his energy was dizzying to watch.

"I never thought you would be a Fiona Apple fan. Unless someone horrendous like Keith Urban has covered her. In which case, I will personally hunt him down and feed him to a pack of wolves." Thud, down again on his heels. "Actually, I should just do that anyway."

Nick took a deep, silent breath and turned back to the contents of his locker. "I'm a man of many tastes, G."

The song, continuing in his head, that maddening rhyme of passion but no reason, like a wistful mantra.

I'm gonna fuck it up again
I'm gonna do another detour
Unpave my path


He could hear Greg opening his locker. "I'm sure." he snorted, although not in a derogatory way. Just that normal Greg, I'm amused, but affectionately so fashion.

Nick would have willingly stuffed himself into his own locker if he could, but as it was he could barely even fit his head in if he tried. He rested his head against the top bar and snuck a look over to Greg, whose door was obscuring his features. But the slits gave an unobstructed view of those eyes he knew so well and thought of so often.

Eyes that were staring back at him.

Nick felt the old impulse to look away, but couldn't. The song was in him as if it had replaced his blood, he could hear the beat and the lyrics rolling underneath his skin.

I'm gonna make a mistake
I'm gonna do it on purpose


Was it a mistake if you wanted it?

Greg closed his locker. Somehow, from the moment he had stepped in the locker room he knew this was coming. He stayed where he was, however. It was for Nick to decide, Nick to go through with it.

Do I wanna do right, of course but
Do I really wanna feel I'm forced to


Nick's mind was buzzing with all the reasons why this was the wrong thing to do. But every time one of them surfaced it was undercut by the mini-radio hardwired in his brain stuck on the one song.

I've acquired quite a taste
For a wellmade mistake, I wanna
Make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake


He found himself moving towards Greg, who stayed glued to the spot. For the first time in ages he was immobile, not bouncing, swaying, full of energy. He was waiting, waiting for something he had longed for, something Nick had longed for. The distance between them was covered quickly, although it had previously seemed immeasurable.

Nick's thumb was against his cheek, and his other hand against the small of his back as he brought him in for a confusing locking of lips. It wanted to be gentle, because it was the first. It wanted to be passionate, because there had been so much time wasted leading up to it, and so much energy behind it. In the end it was neither, really. It was awkward because they were friends, they were at work, and they were nervous with each other in this first new step.

It was also strangely perfect.

Nick opened his eyes to find Greg watching him. It unnerved him, and he pulled away.

"Sorry." Greg blushed. "Just, I've dreamt of that so long, I wanted to see what you looked like when you were kissing me."

Nick began to laugh. "Was it okay?"

"Depends."

Nick shivered slightly. "On what?"

Greg threw the lyrics of the song back at him. "Was this just a well-made mistake?"

Nick drew him in again. "The best non-mistake of my life."

This time Greg closed his eyes and revelled in the sensation. Nick found the song was finally silenced, and instead his mind was fully consumed once more by thoughts of the man who was now where he wanted him to be.




* "A Mistake", from Fiona Apple's album When the Pawn Hits the Conflicts He Thinks like a King, What He Knows Throws the Blows When He Goes to the Fight And He'll Win the Whole Thing 'Fore He Enters the Ring There's No Body to Batter When Your Mind Is Your Might So When You Go Solo, You Hold Your Own Hand And Remember That Depth Is the Greatest of Heights And If You Know Where You Stand, Then You Know Where to Land And If You Fall It Won't Matter, Cuz You'll Know That You're Right

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