Title: Bunny Boy
Author: wishmaster_kami
Spoilers: None
Rating: Gunna say PG-13 for language and nothing else.
Word Count: 1,189
Pairing: Nick x Greg
Summary: For Greg, alcohol is a truth serum and he says more than he intends. Now, in an attempt to hide from the truth, he acquires a new nickname due to his...unusual actions.
Author's Note: A crakc fic if I've ever written one. I don't write perspectives very often, so sorry if it seems a little off, I also didn't have a beta, as usual ^^;

Before you even step through the door, you know. They're going to stare at you. Just the thought makes you bashful, and you're never bashful.

Well, it's not like you can disguise yourself very easily either, not with your signature frosted tips and lime green button down.

But hey, you're young, impressionable. Bright is cool.

Bright, like the shade of red you fear you might turn. You don't ever remember being so eager to get to your lab. You chose chemistry for a reason, chemicals simply couldn't make fun of you when you fucked up.

And man had you fucked up.

It wasn't just any fuck up either. It was the biggest, most hugest, most ginormous fuck up ever. And to top it off, you had been so plastered, you were calling the floor your best friend.

"Greg."

You jump at the voice, not visibly, but inside. He seems to know he's startled you though, because he gives you a moment to recover yourself.

"We're not open yet," you finally spit out, not turning around. You can't look at him, not yet. Instead you busy yourself with your lab coat.

"We need to talk man…"

"About what?"

You force your usual, goofy, lop-sided grin as you finally turn to confront Nick.

"Last night," Nick says, stepping closer to you. You begin to feel trapped under his stare, and you seek an exit desperately.

"Greg?"

Your natural defense mechanism kicks in and you start spouting out nonsense.

"Man, last night was crazy! Warrick and I played pinball, and Sara actually let me near the darts…and the floor?! Forgetaboutit!"

"Greg…"

"Oh! I think I hear Grissom calling!" You nearly shout, interrupting his interruption. You push past him and leave the lab. It was once your safe haven, you knew what was what in there. Now, with your tail between your legs, you're hiding.

Greg Saunders never hides.

"Hey Gris…?" you say softly as you push open the door to his office, "Oh, hey Cat."

Catharine had surprised you, but you didn't mind. In fact it was better she was here, she tended to stand up for you a lot more than most.

"Greg, can we help you?"

"Oh, I just came to hang out. I don't have any---"

"Greg!"

You jump, looking over your shoulder to see Nick coming your way.

Trapped.

Surely you must still be drunk, judging by the actions following this discovery. You leap into Grissom's office and lock the door, being sure to close the blinds as well. You hardly notice the odd looks you're receiving, you manage to offer only one word as an explanation, but it's not really much of one.

"Hide!"

You then proceed to leap behind Grissom and his desk.

Smooth.

Nick raps on the door, and before you can stop her, Catharine in answering. You ignore Grissom's continued stares, and you can hear Cat and Nick chatting softly. You're too busy being focused on feeling like a moron to actually listen.

You wonder how Catharine managed to coax you to stand up, much less to get you out in the hall. That woman is evil.

You find yourself locked out in the hall, face to face with Nick, feeling like an even bigger idiot than before. You simply stare blankly at Nick.

Nicky.

Nick Stokes.

Light of your life…

"Nick," you say in sudden realization.

"I've never seen you move so fast." Nick says lightly. You blush, but try and recover yourself.

"Only when I'm hungry usually…"

A sad attempt to regain your dignity, pass off your unusual activity as---

"Behind Grissom's desk?"

Damn.

"Well, you know, those entomologist types…"

"Greg," The sudden serious tone startles you, makes you shiver, "Last night."

"Don't remember much of it…" You shrug. You decide that walking away is deffinatly your best option right now, because you do remember last night. Every. Last. Detail.

You, Nick, Warrick, Sara. The bar, the beer. The confession….the kiss.

Oh god.

Nick is following you. You know he won't let up, so with a sigh, you beckon him into the sanctity that is your lab once again.

"You'll talk?"

"Seems I have to, you've mastered hide-and-seek,"

Nick smiles at the lame joke. That beautiful smile, dimples and all. It's all you can do to keep from swooning. You suddenly wish you still had that monkey mask you made, something to lighten the mood, or at least hide behind.

"About what you said…"

"I was drunk." You cut in.

"Drunk, and spilling the beans. I know you Greg, getting you drunk is as good as a truth serum."

Damn, man's a tricky one.

"Well, I…" you fumble dumbly for words, "I just…" For once you actually have nothing to say.

"Know what I think?"

"No," you mutter.

"I think it was cute. Just like everything else you do. Kooky, cute, completely unpredictable…"

You're almost positive you must've misheard. You're in shock, dumbstruck. Staring, jaw dropped. Cute?

"Nice shirt by the way."

"Thanks," you reply. It rebooted your brain, and only after the auto-response comes out do you catch the sarcasm in Nick's voice. Nick was chuckling, his laughter contagious. You join in and suddenly you're both in such a fit, tears are streaming down your face and your sides ache and you can't remember what was so funny.

The laughter eventually fades, and you find yourself laying on the floor, staring up at Nick who had collapsed into your chair.

"I love you."

The words took minutes to sink in, and you stare blankly up. If people were walking by, they weren't phased. Laying on the floor would just be a new thing to add to the list of oddities preformed by Greg Saunders.

"What?" you finally reply, though you heard perfectly well the first time and Nick knows it.

"You wanna get off the floor?"

"No."

"Wanna go for a drink after work?"

"Defiantly not." You reply, but this time with a smile, "Were you lying?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"Good."

"So…what?"

"So, now you're mine." Nick states simply. You think you can deal with that thought. Nick stands and smiles at you. You smile back and reach up for him. He helps you up, pulling you a little closer than you think should be allowed at work. You decide to not care as his fingers intertwine with yours. You want to kiss him, but glass walls give leave for prying eyes, though you have a sneaking suspicion Warrick has heard about your timid bunny running away act and he's cleared the area for you and Nick.

He always knows. He's cool like that.

"Wanna come over?"

"Now?"

"No stupid," Nick laughs, "After shift. I'll make you breakfast."

"I'd like that."

"I know."

Nick always was a bit of a smug bastard. Daring too, you soon learn, as he swoops in for a kiss. It's quick, chaste, teasing, but you loved it none the less.

He releases you and turns to leave.

"Bye Bunny," he says casually.

You groan. Because you soooo needed a damn nickname. No pun intended, of course.

Bunny.

This was going to be a long night.