Title: Consequences
By: Chapin CSI
Pairing: Gil/Greg
Rating: PG
Note: These are definitively not the Characters from CSI owned by CBS, more like an AU
Warning: I don't speak English and it shows in my stories; luckily, my readers are very forgiving. Thanks!
Summary: Grissom & Greg Gentle Slash. The road to romance isn't easy, but there are rewards along the way… like helping Grissom feed his prized cockroaches. Yuck.

***

GRISSOM:

I shouldn't have done this.  I fell for the "just once, no attachments" line and slept with my youngest coworker.  I'd truly believed this would be a one night stand with no consequences – I think Greg truly believed so himself.

If I had been more aware of my own feelings I would have realized that it wouldn't be just a casual night between two consenting adults. 

I've always liked him.   I knew he was attracted to me.  We'd occasionally flirted, for God's sake.  How could I believe  there would be no consequences?

What I didn't expect was to have him expect more.  He wants to have a relationship with me.

Our parting conversation still pounded in my brain

 "You can't do this and not feel anything"  he whispered while I got dressed

"Greg, I like you a lot, but it would be wrong to do this again.  I'm your boss -"

"So what? Tell me this, can you really go through life, alone?"

"I've lived my whole life not needing anybody" 

"I don't believe you.  There's so much tenderness and passion in you.  I wish... I hope you give yourself a chance" 

I briefly  thought of staying but in the end I drove home. Still, I stopped a few blocks away from his place to think it over because I hated to leave him like that.   I sat there, debating the wisdom of going back and explain why I couldn't...  but what was the use? I'd only be prolonging our pain .

So, in the end I went home and forced myself to eat and read the paper, though resisting the idea of sleeping or showering.

I sat on the couch for a long time, torturing myself with the images I had of him. 

***

But I eventually erased those images from my memory.   I berated myself for falling so easily out of my celibacy wagon.

And  I got a shower and washed away every last trace of him from me, not looking at myself  though knowing only too well that he had marked me. 

When I finally looked at myself in the mirror I coldly assessed my options in life.  I felt old, pathetic, and weak.

I  need balance and order, not romance.

***

Death bodies.  Blood everywhere. 

I collected the evidence.  There's some DNA swabs for Greg.

I wonder if seeing me here will change the way he was feeling last night. 

***

Well, that wasn't so bad.  His first instinct was to look away when I entered the lab, but I calmly handed him my evidence and asked him to page me ASAP.  He mumbled something about working on it immediately, which is what he always says.   

When he paged me I came immediately  and my attention was on the written explanation, not on the things he was telling me.  He tends to do that.  Explain what he did, as if I would ever doubt his thoroughness or expertise.   As always, his written report  was enough and I didn't say what I've always wanted to say:  ' Do we pay you by the word?'. 

 "Good, Greg" –I said absently, stopping his rambling and then signing the release form he handed me.   I briefly looked at him and asked if the others had already handed their evidence on my case.  We held each other's gaze for a moment as he explained something and I noticed the slight puffiness under his red rimmed eyes.  Then he turned and reached for some papers and I noticed a love bite on his neck.  That made me falter a little, because I did that to him.  He turned to me again and the collar of his shirt covered it neatly.

"Thanks, Greg" – I said, leaving.  I was glad that I was making it easy for us to go back to our daily routine. 

Except that I forced myself not to ask him if he was OK; forced myself not to turn around and see if he was checking me out, see if he found me attractive here too, without the immediate promise of pleasure. 

Which meant this wasn't just another night and it would not be until I got him out of my head. 

GREG:

Thank God the shift's over.  These past two nights have been rough.

God, I've fallen hard and I'm not used to it!

I thought he would avoid me and send his evidence bags with someone else. He didn't.  He's been treating me as always, these past three nights.  He acts as if nothing happened, which could be a good thing in other circumstances, sure, but not now.  I was hoping he would feel bad and  lonely.  It sounds selfish, I know. 

I wanted to be his savior.    

I see now that nothing changed for him.  He doesn't need me. 

* * *

Well, well.

The wall is cracking. 

A friend of mine came to buy a gift from the Coroner's Gift Shop.  We were in the hall, looking at the display when Grissom passed by; Griss, usually so proper and contained shot us a look that was half  anger half jealousy.  I saw his face reflected on the glass, I saw the look, brief  though it was.  Well, well, who would have thought the old "use a friend to make your lover jealous" trick would work on Grissom?  Had I known, I would have done it on purpose much earlier.

"Why are you smiling all of a sudden?" asked Bob

"Oh, nothing, nothing.  I have some reports to give to my boss"

GRISSOM'S SPIDER PET:

Greg came to Grissom's office to talk about some lab results.  He explained on and on, and after a while he was repeating himself, rambling and clearly expecting some reaction from Grissom.  I'm sure Grissom  knew  what Greg was doing  (contrary to what people think, he's very perceptive, he just chooses not to do anything.) but he didn't take the bait; he just read the report.  Uh, oh.  Greg leant on the desk, angrily:

"You're a SOB, you know that?"- he hissed

"I am your boss, THAT I know" Grissom gave him a warning look

"Oh, yeah?  What about that look you gave me out there? You were jealous"

 Grissom looked at him, weighing between answers. "Greg"  he sighed and leant back on his chair "let's get over it, OK?"

"I can't.  And you can't either."

"We've already talked about this."

"We didn't talk.  You just left"

"Yes, that's my point:   You're just upset that I rejected you; you're not used to that "

"Don't talk as if you know me.  You don't."

"That's true. You don't know me either.  I'm sure you'll get over it soon"

Greg looked at Grissom  with a wounded expression "You think I'm pretty shallow, don't you"

"Just too young"   Grissom knew he was blaming everything on Greg and it wasn't fair, but it was a matter of survival.  A heart broken at 27 mends easily, but broken at 46...  Greg next words stunned him.

 "I can't work with you anymore"

"Don't mix the job in this, Greg, it's not professional"

"I need a little respite, Grissom.  And George Lopez wants to work nights for 2 weeks.  Eckley's been pestering me to trade and I think I'll accept"

"Eckley's not going to give you a respite, he'll make your life hell"

"Oh, I already have my own hell " he tried to smile but his lips were trembling. Grissom opened his mouth to say something but stopped; his face resuming the mask of indifference that usually worked so well.

 "If you think it'll help, of course I'll sign the request".

"Yeah, well..." he hesitated. I imagine he was coming to a big decision  "It will help, Grissom"

Then he started reassuring Grissom that he would finish any pendant reports and finally he started to leave. Just before reaching the doorway he stopped and turned his head to whisper something.  Grissom only caught the end.

"…a chance, Gil, don't be afraid"

Grissom didn't answer and  Greg left. 

I know Grissom from way back;  I've seen him behind closed doors, seen him fighting not to cry after a bad case or collapse from exhaustion; I know him and I knew and what he was thinking:  He wished Greg had yelled and kept his anger intact because those are feelings Grissom understands well.  Tenderness is something he's never dealt well with. 

A FLY ON THE WALL (ABOUT TO DIE BECAUSE OF THE DESINFECTANTS IN THE LAB):

Gil Grissom, master of denial, would have left it at that, but a week later he was leaving after a long shift and he saw Greg, hunched upon a microscope. Grissom found it striking that the young man was not looking striking himself.  His hair wasn't spiky but neatly combed, and he was wearing a muted T-shirt, nothing loud.  Grissom was concerned enough to enter the lab.

"Excuse me, sir, do you know what happened to a Greg Sanders who used to abuse his hair in 20 different ways?"

"Very funny, Grissom"

"New look, Sanders?"

"Yeah. Don't have much time for grooming.  There's a lot to do during the day.

 "How's your boss treating you?

"Oh, you know...  I've been pulling double shifts and he's happy.  Wants me to stay."

That angered Grissom but he managed to sound calm.

"Are you accepting?"

"Don't know.  It's not my decision only.  The team's nice, though"

"Well, the night team misses you"

"Yeah " he smiled, facing him for the first time "They've been dropping by, offering little rewards if I return before the two week run. The guys offered basketball  tickets and Catherine offered to teach me to tango"

"That should help you make your mind, then"

"Nay.  Have to see what Eckley  offers me" he joked.

 Grissom didn't appreciate the humor "Maybe he'll offer to have sex with you and THAT will make you stay"

Greg blanched.   Grissom himself gaped "Greg, I'm sorry" he said, stepping closer to Greg, who moved out of the way and hissed "Get out of my lab, now!"

***

GRISSOM:

I shouldn't have slept with him. Or maybe I should have slept with him again and again until he got bored. By now I would be broken-hearted but at least my team would be getting its reports on time, and Greg would be himself, not a version of what Eckley thinks a scientist should look like.

And I wouldn't have said that awful thing to him.

Now my team is surrounding my desk, pestering me with the news that Greg might stay with the day shift.

Nick: "We need Greg, Grissom"

(Oh, don't I know it.)

Sara: "Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?

(Take a cold shower?)

Catherine: "I don't understand why he wants to stay with Eckley. Poor kid's losing his soul."

Warrick: "He says he's tired of sleeping days like a vampire"

(Oh, that's crap! he sucks like one and I still have proof of it on my chest!)

Sara: "I don't buy that" And she looks at me "You have to convince him to come back, Grissom"

Me: " Well, I tried to talk to him" (And managed to insult him.)

Catherine "Oh, no, my friend, talking's not your forte, you've got to take him to dinner"

Sara "Take him to Amandine"

Me: "What? A hamburger would do, Sara"

Catherine: "Oh, no, no, no. Sara's right. He needs to know that we appreciate him."

Nick: "Yeah, we always take him for granted"

Me: "Why don't YOU take him?"

Sara: "Because tonight's your free night and you can charge it to a business meeting"

Catherine "You are the boss, that should account for something. Make him feel needed"

Sara: Yeah! You'll have to kiss his ass!

(Oh, oh, I can do that!!)

Me: "Ok, ok, I'll call him, now leave my office, please"

Nick: "Tell him the offer for the basketball tickets stands"

Catherine waits until everybody's out and whispers "If you let him go, Griss, you'll never forgive yourself" I try to say something but she adds "Be bold, Grissom! Sometimes someone comes and saves us from ourselves, and we have to change for them! And it's not a sacrifice, believe me"

Me: "I don't know what you're talking about"

She rolls her eyes and leaves.

She's right, of course, but it's too late for me.

***

GREG:

Whoa, dinner at Amandine.  He must be pretty desperate to have me back.  The thing is:  back in bed or just back in the lab?  I don't wanna hope, but it's hard not to.  

There's his SUV.  I'm fashionably dressed, I'm fashionably late, I hope everything goes OK.

GRISSOM:

Luckily, Greg's not one to hold grudges; he said he'd come.

The waiter kindly brings a glass of wine to entertain me "while your date arreeves" he says in a mock French accent.  'Date?' I wince.  I look around and the women on the next table eye me speculatively.  Ha, wait until they see him.  They'll say 'what a waste' or something like that.  Or maybe they say 'Oh, how sweet, dining with his dad' I wince again. 

***

There he is, smiling winningly as he reaches our table.

Greg looks great in a suit. And in this light his face is beautiful. Damn.

I start by apologizing for insulting him in his own lab.

"It's all right, Grissom.  It was the perfect reply, really"

Greg accepts the menu, immediately making comments about the food.  I notice he's being considerate, he actually chooses the cheapest items in the menu.  I coax him into having dessert, though. 

As the waiter leaves with our orders, Greg lowers his voice

"I think he learnt French watching Pepe le Pew cartoons. Did you ever saw those?"

"Yeah! What was the name of that black cat he was always falling for?"

"Penelope." He smiles "I suppose you preferred Spider Man"

"Not really. When I was a kid I watched Atom Ant"

We both laugh and he looks genuinely glad to be here.  After a pause he turns a little serious.

"Grissom, I want you to know that I had a great time that night.  I couldn't believe you were so good!  I mean, I hoped, but really, Grissom, it was- Oh, thank you!" he says as the waiter places a salad in front of him. He continues talking to me "-It was truly amazing, Grissom.  I guess what I want to say is I liked it.  I like you, I'm in-"

"I like you too" I interrupt quickly

"Good!" he approves "that means I'm not alone in this, then!  You know, I think I've always been attracted to you.  I kept comparing you to anybody I was with"

I nod, feeling more and more embarrassed as the waiter stays around, blatantly eavesdropping.

"And when I woke up you were still there." He muses "In my arms.  That was special. I guess I'd never slept with someone who was completely sober-"

"Well, I'd had a couple of-"

"That's nothing, man" he uses his fork to steal a mushroom from my plate "What I mean is that the boys and girls I usually go out with need something extra to jump start things, if you know what I mean-"

And that's the problem:  Greg going out with 'boys and girls, all his age.  How long could I keep a relationship with him, really, before he gets bored with me and go back to them? 

"You don't like your salad?" he asks "Try a little of mine!" and he offers me some greens but doesn't let me take the fork.  He wants to feed me. It's very seductive, actually.

"Boys and girls, Greg?" I mutter before biting down his offering

"Nothing serious" he says, watching me chew "Just friends"

All right, that's enough.

"Greg, we really need to talk about this"

"Sure, that's what I'm here for" he smiles

"Well, actually you're here because the guys from the night shift want you back"

Damn, did I just say that?

"Greg, the lab needs you" I say quickly "We all value your work.  You don't want to lose your friends from the night shift just because of anything I said or did.  They're worried about you, in fact.  They're afraid you'll start dressing like Eckley.  Or comb your hair like him" I try to joke and fail miserably.  He has stopped eating and just stares at me.

GREG

God, I can't believe this! The guys had to force him to buy me dinner? A meal that will be reimbursed? Oh, man, I really thought -

Someone shoot me now.

"Grissom. This wasn't really your idea, was it? Catherine or Sara or maybe Nick made you."

"It was all of them" Grissom admits "they thought it was my place to convince you to come back.  And I do want you back-"

GREG:

All right, Grissom, I give up. 

No use prolonging your misery.  And mine.

After all, I miss working with him. And I miss Warrick and Nick and Sara.  Even Cath.  I'm sick of Eckley too.  

"I'll be back, Grissom." I interrupt him.

He's surprised and relieved, and flashes that half smile I love so much.  "Thank you, Greg"

"Yeah.  I miss everybody, even Cath.  And you were right; working for Eckley is hell"

GRISSOM:

I wish I could tell him how much I appreciate this, but it seems every time I open my mouth I make things worse, so I stick to a safe theme: The job.  By the end of the meal, he's not meeting my eye anymore. 

"Greg? I wanted to patch up our friendship but I guess I've failed"  

He doesn't say anything.

"In fact I'm adding new cracks"  

Still, he's silent and I try a little joke.

"Hey, by the end of the night you'll be wondering what it was that you saw in me in the first place"

"I've wondered that every day " he retorts.

"Greg, I'm sorry.   That's all I can say"

The waiter finally brings the check. 

GREG:

God, why did I have to fall for this guy?

"It'll be ok, Grissom" I say as we reach the parking lot

He knows I'm not talking about the job and it looks as if he's holding his breath.

"Really"  I insist, looking at his forehead because I can't meet his eyes "I guess I should have seen things from your  perspective.  You're right.  One gets over anything eventually"

"You mean that? " he breathes easily now, I guess " I'm glad"

GRISSOM:

He's not looking at me as he speaks.

"And look..." he continues "Deep down... I understand, you know? That you don't want me in your life"

He's wrong.  I do want him in my life.  Always. 

I just nod. "I'm sorry"

"You should be"  he finally looks at me   "You could have someone to hold you when the night's been hard"

I blink and look away.   I gulp and breath deeply before facing him again, my mask barely back in place.

"Or have someone to cook or read or watch TV with."   He walks away and I keep watching until he pulls out of the lot and leaves.

I hadn't imagined cooking or watching TV with him, and I think it's endearing that he has.  So out of character.  Or maybe I really don't know Greg and assumed a lot of things about him.

Cooking with Greg. 

God, it's so ironic.  With those final words he's finally convinced me that he really loves me.   Just as he's ready to get over me.

***

GRISSOM'S PET SPIDER

'Hey, Grissom.  Bored here!  Hey, look at me.  Hey, hey! (Damn, my silky limbs can't make much noise in here)  Hey, Grissom; you look like hell, did you know that?   Why don't you ask Sanders to bring you a report?  You always look better after a little chat with him.  Haven't seen him lately, by the way. I miss the spiky-haired guy;  he was the only one who'd pet me!  I wonder what Mr. Bugman did to push him away.  Oh, hey, there's Greg, bringing a report! Goody!  Hey, hey, kid, look at me.  Look at me!'

Greg comes over as if he had really heard me

"Grissom, what's the matter with your spider?  It's shaking its limbs"

"Don't pay any attention to it" says Mr. Sensitivity without even looking up

"I think it's having a seizure or something.  Look"

"It's nothing".

'Move, Bugman! Get up and come up here! I'm doing all this so you can get closer to this guy!'

"Grissom, I think it's serious.  It's doing somersaults now!

"It's just a trick to get my attention" Grissom says, disgustedly "It's been doing it all night"

"Oh.  Ok.  You're the expert."  Greg looks at me for a last time and left.

'Oh, Grissom, I give up, man.  You're on your own now.'

THE FOLLOWING MORNING

GRISSOM:

We solved the case at last.

It was the kind of case that doesn't end with the last report or the trial or even an execution.  It stays with you for weeks and months, then buries itself in your mind and reappears unexpectedly.  Maybe you are listening to music or eating something and suddenly a sound or a smell brings that case back.  Then you remember the blood and the victim's staring eyes. You almost feel the wounds. 

So, we solved the case but there is no closure, no matter what I preach to my coworkers.

We're all beat.  Nick and Warrick will try to work off the pressure at the gym; Catherine will nurture her daughter.  Me?  I'm not sure what to do with a free Sunday.   I'd take over tonight's shift, but Catherine wouldn't let me; she'd think I'm patronizing her. 

I just don't want to go home and lie in bed looking at the ceiling, remembering.

Last time I had a case like this, I was feeling so depressed I thought getting drunk would help me relax. (No, I don't do that often; I  don't handle alcohol well; I never know when to stop. )

Now that I think about it, I never did get drunk that time.  I've tried not to think about that night, but sometimes I need to remember.

I was sitting at the bar, nursing a whiskey and reading a book when someone waved a beer in front of me.

"Hey, boss; drowning your worries away?"

It was Greg. Smiling and still wearing the awful shirt he'd had on at work. 

"Greg? What are you doing here?"

"Relaxing after work.  What about you? Mopping because the DA dismissed CSI's hard work?"

"Good night, Greg" I said, returning to my book

"Hey, I'm sorry.  Really, I am" he said gently "I just don't believe in drowning my anger away, you know?"

"Good for you.  Cheers" I said sarcastically and lifted my glass in his direction

"That won't make you feel better" he warned

"It's late, Greg; you should be in bed"

"Oh, I'm leaving after I finish this.  Want to come and tuck me in?"

There are times when it's safer to ignore Greg's jokes, so I didn't answer.

"I'm not joking" he said, leaning a little until our shoulders met.

"Greg?  What are you doing?"

"I'm making a pass at you!" he said matter-of-factly

"Oh, for God's sake" I muttered, and was about to sip my drink when Greg placed a hand firmly on my arm.  Now I was losing patience "That's enough, Sanders"

"I agree" he said, taking the glass away from me. 

I was going to argue, but that would have called everybody's attention on us.  I turned to my book, wondering what the hell was happening here. 

This is the kind of situation I avoid at all costs.  I never socialize with my coworkers. It's so easy to talk too much, and reveal who you are behind the boss' mask.  Once you reveal something about you, you resent the person who knows and you can't possibly work well together anymore.

If I had been pressed to name only one person to avoid, it would have been Greg.  I can fool others, but I can't fool myself.  All those little rituals of ours, the coffee cup in the morning, the teasing; I was walking a fine line between what was appropriate and what wasn't, and until that moment I thought it would never get out of control.

With a quiet voice I rarely heard him use, Greg tried to  explain. "I'd like to sleep with you. I know you're my boss and I'm your subordinate." He immediately smiled and mused "That in itself sounds like a turn on, don't you think?" then he remembered he wanted to be serious and added "It's like this, Grissom.  I like you and I believe you like me.  I don't know how much, but the fact is you do.  And we are open-minded, consenting adults.  Aren't we? And the fact that we met here of all places is a good sign"

I looked around, wondering if this was a big joke and there was some hidden camera around.  After all, that bar is the kind of place where you drink, play cards,  and smoke.  Nobody would go there hoping to get a date.  In that sense, it's a straight-laced bar. Straight, that's the word I needed at that moment. 

"Greg, I came here to have a drink, not to get lucky"

"You see?  It's a bonus!" he smiled winningly then he lowered his voice "You can say no and stay. But if you get drunk, you'll be sorry in the morning.  If you come home with me, there'll be no regrets.  It'll be good.  I promise"

"I don't think so" I said, but I was less determined by then

"Grissom" he whispered "You know, we all feel lonely sometimes. A few hours together, what do you say?"

"Greg, I do like you, but-"

"Great!" he interrupted, flashing the lopsided grin that is smug and endearing at the same time "Come along then!" he jumped off his stool and stood there, grinning.  The bartender looked at me and suddenly it felt as if everybody else was waiting for me to do something.  I paid, took my book, and left.

I thought I'd simply drive home.

But I didn't; I waited outside while he paid for his beer.

I was wondering what the hell I was going to do.  Wondering if I was going to let this chance pass me by.

I knew then that I wanted to follow him home. If I did, I wouldn't have to get drunk to forget that I was lonely,  or that we lost cases, no matter what we did.

Greg was cute and young, and he would be kind with me.  And there'd be no regrets, right?

So I followed him, confident that I could back off at any moment.

I toyed with the idea of driving home, but I didn't.

I thought I would wave goodbye, but I ended up parking my car behind his.

And later, when he asked me if I was sure, I thought I'd say no, but I nodded yes.

I thought I'd protest as he happily manhandled me towards his bedroom, but I didn't. 

I should have stopped all of this at the very beginning, because by the time we kissed, I was drunk with lust and I was doing the manhandling myself.

…Later, I could have just left as soon as he fell asleep. 

Instead, I burrowed into his arms and watched him sleep, hoping he would wake up soon so we could make love again.

Since that night, there have been only regrets.

***

Greg returned to the night shift but our relationship has deteriorated.  He's polite but distant, he doesn't tell those little jokes and asides anymore, he doesn't even rambles when he hands me the reports.  I miss his ramblings, those little tricks he did  to keep me in the lab... I miss who he was before the mess.

I suddenly realize what I had. I can't believe I let it go.

That morning, so long ago when I told him we couldn't have a relationship, I could have changed my mind and stayed.

I want to take the risk today, when I feel as if I have nothing left to lose.

And if he rejects me it'll give me the little push I need to cry my eyes out.

GREG

Can't sleep, again.  Not even after that awful case and a whole week working 18-hour shifts. 

So what can I do on a Sunday morning? Get up, wear some clean baggy clothes and have a nice breakfast of...pizza!  Cold pizza for breakfast is the college cliché, but I find it comforting.  Then there's books and there's music.  Later I'll catch up with my friends, go see a movie, or try to nap a little; then I'll go back to work.  

Of course, there are ways to get exhausted enough to pass out in bed.  Yep, I should call someone, get laid.  Someone, anyone, except that it's too early and most of my friends don't get up until noon.  But, yeah, I'll call someone, numb myself for a while, sleep until it's time for work.

Until then I could kill time doing some weight lifting.  Working outside the lab  requires some strength. Last week I was working with the guys on a crime scene and we had to lift some metal bars.  I didn't want to look like a wimp, so I did my share but just barely.  Then Grissom started to laugh at us.

"Gentlemen, there's a simple way to do this.  See, you let gravity work for you, not against you."

And he came and showed us how to do it.  It was pretty impressive but Warrick was pissed

"Grissom?  Couldn't you have told us, before I busted a kidney lifting those things?"

"And ruin your macho posturing?" he replied

In the end we all burst into laughs because it was true that Warrick, Nick and me had been competing. 

And I thought, 'this is the Grissom that's playful at work.  The one who infected me with mildew some months ago.  The one who kissed the hell out of me one night and wore me out…'

Oh, God, don't think about it.  Just don't. 

Just eat your pizza and read something.

***

Can't concentrate on this damn book... Now, who the hell would knock on a Sunday morning?  Hope it's not a Jehova's witness....  Shit, it's Grissom.  What does he want?  Didn't I hand him all the reports?

***

GRISSOM

I knocked on Greg's door hoping he's alone in there. Now someone's looking through the peep hole... He opens the door, reluctantly, I think.

"My VCR broke" I say tentatively, waving the tape I rented. He looks at it somewhat surprised. He doesn't shut the door on my face but I can see that he isn't happy. He silently lets me in, and closes the door.

I like his living room; there's a wide window, the walls are covered with pictures, posters, and paintings. There's a big, cozy couch on one side of the room; some big cushions surrounding a wooden coffee table, and on the other side, an entertainment center that includes a wide screen TV, DVD, and a VCR (Thank God he has one!)

He was reading on the couch. He closes the book and puts it on the coffee table, next to a half eaten slice of pizza. He takes the tape from me and puts it in the VCR player. Then he hands me the remote. All without really looking at me.

He silently sits on one end of the couch.

I take the other end and offer him a grocery bag I brought with me. It's full of junk food, the kind he likes. He looks into the bag, hesitates and then shakes his head.

Oh, oh. I'm not welcome here, but I've lost all self respect and I take a pastry; the kind that I hate, just to punish myself.

Why is he so silent? He's certainly said a lot of things before, why can't he say something now? I'm starting to wonder why he even let me in. I thought he would either pull me in his arms or shut the door on my face. This I didn't really expect and now I don't know what to do... except press the PLAY button.

I rented a sports bloopers tape and I'm relieved when I hear his first laughs. I chose well, it seems.

He's chuckling and from time to time he turns to me and is about to say something, but he restrains himself. He turns to watch, as if he doesn't want to miss anything. I silently hand him the remote so he can freeze or replay scenes, which he immediately does. Oh, we geeks love to see those jocks fall flat on their faces. We laugh openly, even look at each other and smile now and then. I hand him the bag and he takes it and rummages through it for something to eat.

He happily opens a bag of Skittles and presses PLAY again.

I sigh with relief. We can be friends. For now that will be enough. I close my eyes to rest a little.

GREG:

He looked surprised when I let him in, as if I would ever close my door on him. No matter what, he's the boss, right? And anything that's happened between us pales when compared to the horrors he sees every day. He has that look on his face that tells me he's feeling lost and sad.

I guess he needs company. I need it, too. If he needs more than company… I don't know if I'll do it. I don't know if I can ever have casual sex with him.

But for now, everything is all right. After all, he brought me the food I like. I'll forgive that he rejected me, I'll ignore the fact that he used that old "my VCR broke" trick.

I glance at him and realize that he's dozing. I shake him gently.

"Grissom, do you want to sleep a little?"

"Uh? No. No, it's ok" he says shaking his head. He closes his eyes again and I try to ease him into a more comfortable position. He mumbles and resists me but I keep pulling until he gives in to exhaustion and stretches on the couch. Before he lets his head fall on my lap, I grab a cushion for him. He falls asleep almost immediately.

GRISSOM

Great, I slept a little. Nice couch. Comfortable. Comfortable couch?. Not mine Can't be. I open my eyes and see two legs, the feet resting up on a wooden coffee table. Oh, crap, I fell asleep on his couch, on his lap. Oh, smooth, Grissom, fall asleep like a decrepit old man. He's watching the video, still or again, I don't know. I don't want to move, can't face him, I'll just pretend I'm still sleeping.

I wake up with a start and realize that I fell asleep again. Now I'm lying on my back and he's gazing down at me.

"Did you rest well?" he asks.

"Uh, yes. Sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he gently pats my chest "Sleep all you need, Grissom, it's OK"

Oh, damn. Tenderness I don't deal well with.

GREG:

He closes his eyes again but I can tell he's not sleeping. He's embarrassed. After a while, he sits and rubs his face with both hands. After a moment he rests his hands on his knees and speaks without looking at me.

"Greg… you've changed lately"

"Well…" I hesitate "All this has been hard for me, Grissom. But my work hasn't suffered, has it?"

"No" he shakes his head "But I thought our friendship would be more important to you"

"Grissom… It's been painful for me-"

"It has been too, for me"

"… and frankly, you're not helping" I get up and plant myself in front of him, forcing him to look up at me "You come here with the old 'my VCR broke' line and all I can think of is that you want to have sex. Do you want to sleep with me, Grissom? I would say yes if I didn't know that tomorrow you'll be such a coward about it!"

"Hey" he protests, getting up too "I'm not a coward! I'm just a little more realistic than you are! Do you think it's easy for me to enter a relationship, and a gay one at that? It isn't!"

"Oh, that," I dismiss "I can't relate to you, Grissom. You're talking to someone who's been bullied for being the shortest, the youngest, the ugliest, the thinnest or the nerdiest. 'Gay' doesn't sound so bad, believe me"

GRISSOM

I look at Greg and wonder what horror stories he hides behind that cocky attitude of his.

"I can't believe you were ever ugly" I tell him softly

"Ha, some day I'll show you old pictures and you'll see"

We look at each other for a moment. I turn and examine the pictures on the walls. There are entire families in some of them, some baby pictures, groups of students. He does look as if he's the nerdiest, in some of them; then, on a corner, bathed in sunlight, there's a picture of me. It's one that appeared in a magazine, only this picture wasn't cut from it; he must have contacted the photographer.

"I spent twenty years not needing anybody" I muse aloud "And suddenly, I'm obsessing about a younger man, a coworker. Relationships scare me, Greg. "

"Is that why you act as if loving you is the worst offense I can commit against you?"

"It is, if you take it away after." I reply, looking at him "Every time I wonder about you and me, all I can think of is that one day you'll get bored and leave me"

"Grissom, why are you like this?" he asks, truly concerned. I can't answer him and he says, very gently "This can end at any minute, yes. I could die from an infection if I'm not careful in the lab. You could get killed at a crime scene or simply crossing the street. But, Griss, you can't spend your life thinking only of the end, because we all die anyway. Think of all the great things that can happen in a single day"

"I know." I nod "I know all that"

He takes a deep breath "Grissom, why did you really come?"

"I… I came because we can't go on like this"

He nods and it looks as if he's holding his breath.

"I love you" I whisper

He gapes at me. He really tries to say something, but suddenly he just throws himself at me and I'm hoping for a kiss, but what he does is punch my chest so hard that I stumble back against the wall.

"OW! Why did you do that?" I protest, trying not to damage any of his pictures

"Because you're an idiot!" he says angrily "Why didn't you just tell me as soon as you came? Why did you have to turn this into an angst fest? You were making me want to cry, Grissom! Man, by now we could already be in my bed, sweaty and happy, instead of-"

I start laughing because he's mad but happy at the same time, and after a moment he chuckles too. Then he's looking at me as if I suddenly grew an extra head and that pisses me off.

"What?"

"God, you're beautiful" he whispers

"Nah, come on…" Oh, God, the kid's infatuated with me. Great!

I advance upon him and he meets me halfway and we're finally in each others arms, laughing. I bury my face in the tender space between his shoulder and neck, and breath in that clean, sweet smell that's only his. I wish I could tell him how safe I feel now that he's holding me.

Am I being optimistic all of a sudden? Yeah, maybe too much.

"Greg? Things won't change at work, ok?"

GREG

"What things?" I tease "You mean I won't be able to call you Griss-ly Bear while we're out on the field?" Grissom snorts and I add "or Griss-y lover?"

"You know what I mean. I'll still be the boss and give the orders"

"You mean you're still going to bully me, and be cranky when I over explain."

"I don't bully you!" he protests immediately

"Ha, everybody does. I don't mind. Hey, as long as I do the bullying here…"

"No way" he whispers and he kisses me and then we don't speak anymore.

***

GREG

The first time we slept together, I though it would be a one time shot:  We'd have a great time, he'd tell me to take care, and then he'd be gone. 

It didn't happen like that. 

I mean, it was really was great;  I'd thought  I'd be teaching something new to Grissom for a change.  Ha.  I forgot that he  seems to know everything in the world.  And being a guy himself, he knew exactly what he was doing… He taught me, instead.

But I really thought he'd be gone by the time I woke up.

Imagine my surprise when, still half asleep, I felt something warm and heavy in my arms. 

I opened my eyes and found myself looking at Gil Grissom's face.

"Hey, Gil" I greeted, feeling a bit stupid because up until that night I'd never really had to talk after sex.  My partners were usually gone when I woke up. Gone or puking in the bathroom, that is.  My bed would have pieces of hardening latex or wax, and smears of honey, or whatever we'd used to help us along, but at least I was spared from having to say sweet nothings, or apologies or whatever it was required.

What could I tell this guy ? Apart from 'Thanks, boss?  I fished about for something safe to say.

"Do you want me to turn off the light, Griss?"

"Don't.  I like to look at you.  I want to remember you like this" And he just lied there, sharing my pillow and gazing at me.

He had this look on his face, as if I was the clue he'd needed to complete the biggest case of his career!  I mean, how could I not fall for him? 

He kissed me gently, almost chastely and then just looked at me expectantly.  I smiled and kissed him back, and then we were happily fondling each other, messing the sheets and torturing the springs out of the mattress, again.

The next day he was all business as he looked around for his clothes while I tried to shake off sleep and exhaustion.

"Wanna eat something?" I offered

"Thanks, Greg.  Got to go.  Have to fed my cockroaches"

"Oh.  Need help for that?"

"No."

Someone who talks as little as him has a way of saying 'no' that lets you know different things.  There's the 'no' that means 'Nick, don't be an ass' or the 'no' that means 'not right now, Sheriff'; then there's the 'no' that means 'I don't need whatever you think I need'.  Guess what 'no' he used.

"Gil?  You're ok with this, right?"

"It was ok, Greg"

"What I mean is that we can do it again, right?"

"No"

"It wouldn't be a problem" I said, getting up "At work, I mean.  I can be discreet-"

"You said 'no regrets', Greg.  Remember?"

"Yeah.  But I didn't know, then"

"Didn't know what?"

"How you felt about me"

He stiffened a little and then continued putting his clothes on.

"I mean," I insisted "You do feel something for me, don't you?"

"Greg, I came only because you said that there'd be no regrets.  Ok?"

"Can't we talk about this?" I try a little joke "Negotiate?"

But no matter what I said, it was useless. 

Half an hour ago, after spending all day in bed,  he got  up in a whirl of activity, saying that he had to feed his cockroaches.

"Need help, Gil?" I asked hopefully

"No"

Déjà vu, right? I was gaping at him as he fished about for his socks.  He looked up and smiled.

"You have to work tonight, right? Get a shower while I fix something to eat"

"Right… right."

But I didn't move.

"Greg? You'll be late if you don't get up" he insisted and I obeyed.

So now I'm washing up and wondering if Grissom is going to sail down denial river again.

What the hell happened?  Did he accidentally look into my stash of sex toys and got scared? 

Or maybe sex wasn't so good today?

On the other hand, all he did was say that he didn't need my help.  He didn't flee like before, right?  Have to keep my hopes up.

I find him in the kitchen; he's made scrambled eggs and brewed coffee

"Hey" he says, and pecks my cheek before placing a cup of coffee in my hand.

We don't talk much while we eat and suddenly he clears his throat.

"Hey, Greg.   Is it ok if I keep a toothbrush here?  And toothpaste?  I don't like that sparkly thing you use"

I gape.

"And I'd like to keep a few clothes, too.  Underwear and a shirt, perhaps" then he looks up and cautiously adds "What do you think?"

And I'm smiling like an idiot because he's just said the right thing.

"Sure, Grissom.  I'll make some space for you in the closet"

***

6 months later.

Today he finally said that  I could help him feed his cockroaches.

…It's a creepy, smelly, disgusting labor that  I hated, as much as the laughing SOB knew I would.

Oh, well.  At least I slept in his bed for the first time.

It's like sleeping on a surfing board. 

…I'll get used to it.

***