Title: Catch Me I'm Falling
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Adam Ross, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

"Looks like you drew the short straw this time around, Sanders."

Greg looked up from his desk, a frown furrowing his brow. "What d'you mean?" he asked Nick, shaking his head at the other man. "As far as I recall, I didn't enter any betting pools, and I'm not working on an active case right now."

"The new guy. The one from Miami," Nick told him, nodding towards the front of the building. "He's here, and Catherine has decreed that you're the one to partner up with him. He could do worse, but he could do a lot better. That's what I told her."

"What, you think you'd be a better partner to show him the ropes around here?" Greg leaned back in his chair with a grimace. He'd forgotten all about the new guy -- and he hadn't thought for a moment that he would be the person chosen to be his partner.

He didn't like the whole "partner" idea any more than anyone else did, but they were stuck with it. This decision had come down from the top brass -- they would all be working with partners now, and Greg was one of the lower guys on the totem pole.

Which, of course, meant that he would be the first to get a new person. Greg heaved a sigh; he'd been the new guy in town all too recently, and he knew how it felt. At least he could spare this person any grief, and initiate him nicely into how they did things around here.

"Hey, somebody had to do it for you when you first came in," Nick pointed out with a shrug, his thoughts following Greg's own. "And seriously, you're a good person for him to partner with. You know how things work with us, and you follow the rules. I'd consider the guy lucky."

"Thanks, Nick." Greg sighed and raised a hand in a gesture of farewell as Nick left the office, wishing that Catherine had chosen anyone but him for this. But since he was stuck with it, he might as well make the best of something that was sure to be a challenge.

Not that he didn't think this new guy would be able to handle himself here, Greg thought as he got to his feet and headed slowly for the front room where he was sure his new partner would be waiting. After all, he'd been a CSI in Miami.

Then why couldn't he have stayed in Miami? No one seemed to know just why this man was here; all Catherine would say was that he had asked to be transferred. There had been no reason given publicly for that request, and Greg couldn't help being curious.

What made this guy tick? Why did he decide to move from a place like Miami to Vegas? He apparently didn't have any gambling problems, or they wouldn't have approved the transfer, so that was one reason down. But there could be a myriad of others.

Well, whatever it was, he'd ferret it out, Greg told himself as he prepared to enter the room where the new CSI was waiting for him. He was going to try to make the best of this. The guy might turn out to be a cool partner, so this could be a change for the better.

He strode into the room, focusing his attention on the man who had been sitting at one of the tables. He blinked, taking a closer look and feeling as though he'd just had a blow to the solar plexus, all the breath seeming to rush out of his body.

His legs felt too weak to hold him up, he was hot and cold at the same time, and he couldn't find his voice to speak. He couldn't even catch his breath; all he could do was stare at the man in front of him, his eyes trying to take in the perfect vision in every possible way.

What was a man like this doing here in Las Vegas? More to the point, what was he doing in a CSI unit? He should be a model, or an actor. Greg would have no problem at all imagining that face on a screen in a dark theater, and himself spellbound in the audience.

Those hazel eyes were regarding him quizzically; it took him a few moments to realize that his mouth was open as though he was going to say something, but that he hadn't spoken a word. He hadn't been able to speak; all he wanted to do was stand here and stare.

"Hi," he finally managed to say, holding out a somewhat shaky hand for the other man to shake. "I'm Greg Sanders. I'll be your partner. Welcome to CSI." It sounded idiotic, but under the circumstances, he was surprised that he'd managed to get even that pedestrian greeting to come out.

"Hi," the other man responded, taking Greg's hand in a firm clasp. "I'm Ryan Wolfe. It's nice to meet you, Greg." He glanced around the room, a slight frown on his handsome features, then turned his gaze back to Greg. "Is something wrong? You seem kind of preoccupied."

Greg shook his head, cursing himself inwardly for being at such a loss for words. This had never happened to him before; he could usually think of something smooth to say in any situation. But for once, he was floundering, caught off guard with no back-up plan.

"Come on, I'll show you our office," he told Ryan, still feeling a little disoriented. If this kept up, he'd need someone to show him around, even though he'd been working here for a few years now. He had to pull himself together and try to make a better impression.

He glanced back to make sure that Ryan was following him; that glance made him stumble a bit, and Ryan put out a hand to steady him. His heart seemed to jump at the other man's touch, an electricity sparking between them that was entirely unexpected.

Did Ryan feel it, too? Greg wondered, giving the other man a tremulous smile. He wasn't sure what to say; he felt like a fool for being so unsettled by someone's mere presence. He had never felt so knocked out by anyone before, so unsure of himself.

"Welcome to our humble abode," he told Ryan as they approached the office that the two of them would be sharing. He swept a hand toward their desks, realizing as he did so that they were facing each other. He would be able to look up from paperwork at any time and see Ryan there.

That thought made his heart speed up even more; he couldn't imagine what it would be like to look up and see that face, that smile, any time he wanted to. Was it his imagination, or had his heart just constricted in his chest, as though it had been squeezed?

A pile of loose papers on his desk had been disturbed by the breeze his hand created, a few of them fluttering and floating to the floor. Greg held back a curse, wishing that he hadn't done that as he bent down to pick them up, not realizing that Ryan had done the same.

Their hands touched as they both reached for the same paper; Greg glanced up to meet Ryan's eyes, and again, found himself mesmerized by them. He couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to; he was caught in a web, being drawn in despite himself.

Those eyes weren't just hazel; they were on the inside, right around the pupil, but they shaded out into a deep forest green, like leaves arching overhead in the coolness of a secluded glade, or a bed of forest moss that he could sink into like a soft, welcoming bed.

His heart constricted again at the thought of Ryan and bed together; his body was reacting in another way as well, a much more obvious way. If he didn't get away from this train of thought, he was going to have a hard time walking when they got called to a crime scene.

Slowly, he rose from where he'd been kneeling, the papers in his hands. He was going to have to be very careful about what he said -- and about staring at Ryan too much. Already he felt at a disadvantage, as if he was falling from a precipice with no one standing below to catch him.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked softly, a look of concern on his face. "You seem kind of .... disoriented. Bad night last night?" There was no laughter in those incredible eyes as he spoke, only a look of sympathy, as though he might know what it was like to have a restless night.

Greg shook his head, feeling foolish and knowing that he had to come up with some reason as to why he was behaving this way. Get it together, doofus, he told himself, taking a firm command of his voice and pushing his more personal thoughts to the back of his mind.

"I'm okay," he said with a smile, making himself look directly into those eyes again. A part of him wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor at this man's feet, but he had to be more professional than that. After all, they would have to work together.

"I should give you a tour of the place," he said as he placed the papers back on his desk. "Come on, lets get started. And I'll introduce you to the rest of the team, too. I think everybody's looking forward to meeting you. It's not all that often we get new people here."

Somehow, he had gone from being a little resentful of having to partner with the new guy, to feeling that he was one lucky bastard. What would the others think when they saw this gorgeous man? Would any of them even have a clue as to how Greg was feeling at the moment?

No, he could keep that hidden pretty well, he told himself as he and Ryan left the office to head down the corridor towards Catherine's office. He would have to. If anybody had the slightest idea of his feelings, he might not be Ryan's partner any more.

He had no idea that hiding his feelings might prove to be more difficult than he thought.

***

Next story in series - Sparks.