Title: Engelmann Prickly Pear
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Note: Beta'd by the stellar Catlover2x.
Summary: An irritated Nick is confronted by the good and bad aspects of Greg. Written for the LJ 25fluffyfics challenge (prompt #19, 'flowers').***
Mrs. Blenkinsop had them working hard, but she also knew how to reward them. She liked the two young men currently slaving away in her backyard, Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders. She called them her young lawmen, although they told her they were officially CSIs and not police officers. They thought she didn't know, but she also was aware that they were partners (not in the traditional police officer term, either). She knew this because one day she had been watering the azaleas on her back porch, and they had been playing catch in the backyard as if they were teenagers; this simple innocent game had then turned a little rowdy, and resulted in some passionate displays of kissing against their shared fence. She had almost dropped her watering can, and then surprised herself by watching them with interest. Things had certainly changed since her day, that was true, but who was she to deny true love when she saw it?
And they were so nice. The slightly older Nick, with his Texan accent which reminded her of a boy she had dated in her teens before falling in love with Archie Blenkinsop. Nick always greeted her when he came home after shift, no matter how tired he looked, and was always ready to have a talk with her. And Greg was always eager to help, whether it was throwing her Saturday paper further up onto her porch when he came out to get his own (he knew she was mortified at stepping out into public in her dressing gown) or to balance precariously on a ladder to get down her cat Sandy from the gutter whenever he decided to get stuck in there and was too scared to come down.
So here they were, spending their Sunday morning moving a cumbersome cactus for her. It was affecting the other plants around it as it had grown too big, and when the boys had seen her struggling with a shovel the previous afternoon, they told her that they would help her the next day. At first she refused, but truth be told the shovel was rather heavy, and she was tiring easily these days. Nick told her they were on their way to a work cook-out, or else they would help her there and then. In fact, he was starting to look as if he would cancel going to help her instead, because he was that way, but she wouldn't let him get to the point where he would start doing so, so she readily agreed the next day was fine.
At eight sharp they knocked on her door. Nick looked bright-eyed and ready to start, Greg held onto a travel mug full of coffee as if his life depended on it.
"Morning, Mrs. Blenkinsop," Nick said cheerily, while Greg mumbled something that could have been a greeting. He was not a morning person, that one.
She led them out to the backyard, where Sandy was already sunning himself out on a cushion on the porch. Nick stopped to rub him behind the ears, and the cat arched himself up, glad for any attention.
"He likes you," Mrs. Blenkinsop said.
"No one can resist Nick," Greg said through a mouthful of coffee. "You should see all the suspected criminals that throw themselves at him at work." At Nick and Mrs. Blenkinsop's stunned looks, he trailed off. "Not really appropriate Sunday morning conversation, huh?"
Nick shook his head, his ears slightly pink. Mrs. Blenkinsop smiled to put him at ease, and then shuffled back into the house to get ‘refreshments'. Sandy followed in the hopes of being fed for the second time in an hour.
"Suspected criminals that throw themselves at me?" Nick hissed. "Greg!"
"It's true," Greg grumbled. "Warrick and Brass were having a good laugh about the numbers of them last night. They keep a pool, you know."
"And I really enjoy it!" Nick protested.
"Doesn't matter if you enjoy it or not."
Nick sighed, and bent down to grab a trowel. Greg peered over the rim of the mug to catch an appreciative eyeful of Nick's ass being cupped by the tightened denim, grinning to himself. "Of course, it doesn't help when you dress like that."
Knowing Greg was needling him for his own entertainment, Nick ignored him and began gently trowelling dirt away from the base of the cactus.
"But you know what? They all miss out, because Stokes the Stud comes home with me," Greg crowed.
"Are you going to get down here and help me, or not?" Nick grumbled, losing his patience.
Greg, amused, placed his mug down on the ground and made a big show of rolling his sleeves up. He crouched beside him and picked up the second trowel.
Nick turned to talk to him and was rewarded with a mouthful of dirt.
"Sorry!" Greg said, truthfully apologetic. "My hand slipped!"
The dirt was already turning to mud in his mouth. Nick turned and began to spit it out best he could. Greg offered him his mug, and Nick rinsed his mouth clean with coffee before spitting once more.
"That shows how much I really love you," Greg pointed out. "Sacrificing my coffee, and all."
"One mouthful of coffee," Nick grumbled.
"I would gladly sacrifice the whole cup for you," Greg said nobly.
"Really? Then you must love me." Nick picked up the trowel again.
Greg playfully bumped him with his ass. "I do."
Unfortunately this sent Nick off-balance, and although Greg reached out to steady him, Nick had already thrown out his hand for support – onto the cactus before them. He yelped with pain, and Greg clapped his hand over his eyes wondering if the morning could get any worse.
"Babe, are you okay?" he asked anxiously.
"Don't talk to me," Nick grumbled, wincing as he pulled his hand free.
Sure enough, there were needles stuck in his palm and blood was already beginning to flow.
"I'll go and get a first aid kit." Greg leapt to his feet and made his way into the house as Nick bit down on his tongue and pulled the needles out one by one.
Mrs. Blenkinsop was taking fresh-made cookies out of the oven, and Greg paused to smell them and wonder at what time she had started baking when she noticed him. "Do you need something, Greg?"
Greg remembered his mission. "Do you have a first aid kit? We've, uh, kinda had a situation with the cactus."
"Oh, heavens, what's happened?"
"Nick fell into the cactus. Well, to be honest, I may have pushed him a little."
"Greg!" Mrs. Blenkinsop said, shocked.
"It was an accident!"
"That's what my boys used to say all the time, Greg. Tell the truth, and shame the devil."
Cowed, he looked up at her underneath downcast eyes. "I was only fooling around. I didn't mean for him to get hurt."
Mrs. Blenkinsop sighed, and wiped her hands on her apron. Muttering "Boys will be boys" to herself, and enjoying herself immensely at being able to say so for the first time in years, she retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink. Greg accepted it gratefully.
"Thanks, Mrs. Blenkinsop!"
"Go and patch him up. I'll be out in a few minutes."
Greg sailed out the back door.
"Don't slam–"
The back door slammed, and she heard Greg yell back, "Sorry!"
She smiled to herself, and began preparing the lemonade.
Greg found Nick now needle-free and working on the cactus again.
"Hey!" he cried. "Let's get you bandaged first, so you don't get dirt in the wounds."
"I wouldn't have dirt in my wounds, in fact, I wouldn't have wounds, if it weren't for you."
"I said I was sorry! Man, you're like that lion in that fable."
"Only if that lion had had the mouse jam the thorn in his paw in the first place."
Greg waved his hand dismissively. "Technicalities. Now stop being a bear, and let me do this."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Stop abusing animal metaphors, and hurry up."
"Okay, grouch."
They fell into silence as Greg washed the wounds with iodine. Through gritted teeth, Nick said, "You're a meerkat."
"What?" Greg scoffed.
"Yeah, you are. Wired, on speed, always running about the desert causing mischief. You're a goddamned meerkat."
Greg shrugged. "At least we're from the same continent. That's lucky."
Nick finally smiled at him. "Yeah."
"I didn't mean to tip you onto the cactus."
"I know. And technically it's an Engelmann Prickly Pear."
"I should have known you'd know that." Greg began to wrap the bandage around his palm and the back of his hand. "Does it hurt?"
"Nah, it's not that bad."
"So you'll live?"
"Don't push it, Sanders. You're not out of the woods, yet."
"I promise I'll make it up to you later." Greg waggled his eyebrows as he fastened the bandage clip to secure the wrappings.
"Don't make promises if you don't intend to keep them."
"I never do." Greg leaned in to claim a kiss, but the sound of the back door opening made him shy away. They weren't exactly sure if Mrs. Blenkinsop knew the true nature of their relationship, and they didn't want to offend her. They had both been brought up to respect the elderly at all costs, and it was an unconscious action on both their behalves.
"Time for a break!" Mrs. Blenkinsop announced grandly, setting the tray upon her outdoor dining table.
Greg snapped the first aid kit shut while Nick dusted himself free of dirt and made his way to the porch. "I don't think we've been working long enough to be given a break yet, ma'am."
His polite addressing of her, mixed with the drawl, made her feel seventeen again. "It's the least I can do." She began pouring large glasses of lemonade and topped them with ice. The two boys sat across from her, already glistening from the early morning sun.
"Hey, snickerdoodles!" Greg exclaimed. "My favorite!"
"No matter what you would have baked, he'd say they're his favorite," Nick said, snapping up a cookie for himself. "His favorite changes every week."
"Well, it just so happens snickerdoodles are my favorite this week," Greg said, already on his second.
"How is your hand, Nick?" Mrs Blenkinsop asked.
"It's fine, ma'am."
"Dr. Sanders was on the case," Greg said, accidentally spitting out cookie crumbs.
"Dr. Sanders was the cause of the case," Nick said dryly.
"You boys are so cute together," Mrs Blenkinsop said happily. "You remind me of my sons." She disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve more ice.
"Yikes, she better hope not," Greg whispered. "That would be... weird." He imitated the sound of the Deliverance banjo.
"Shut it, Greggo," Nick whispered back.
There were two more scheduled breaks with snacks before the boys finally managed to dig out the cactus without any damage, and move it to a more barren part of the garden where it would thrive without affecting any other plants. As they were settling it into the dirt, Greg pointed a dusty finger towards a small bud in which a tiny sliver of yellow and orange was poking through. "Hey, it's beginning to flower."
"So it is," Nick smiled.
They began to fill in the dirt around the cactus, and patted it down before watering it to compact the soil again. Mrs. Blenkinsop watched them from the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, lemonade at the ready for when they finished.
Nick stood back to survey their handiwork. "I think we did okay."
Greg gently traced the flower with his finger. "Beautiful things can happen in the desert."
Nick looked down at the man before him, who could aggravate him like no other, but also that he loved above any other, and found his minor bout of irritation draining away easily. "Yeah, they sure can."
Greg stood up, and smiled at him. He could feel the tension between them was gone, as little as it had been.
They made idle chatter with their neighbor for another half an hour, and then made their way back home with a box full of snickerdoodles, which Nick knew probably wouldn't last the afternoon with Greg around.
Mrs. Blenkinsop cleaned up her kitchen, and an hour later stepped onto her porch to check on her cactus' new position. She heard the soft murmur of voices, and looked over to see Nick and Greg sitting on their own back porch, two beers and the box of snickerdoodles before them. She was about to call out and ask Nick how his hand was, when she observed that Greg was holding the wounded hand between his own. He said something, and Nick laughed. Greg leaned in and gave him a gentle and loving kiss.
Silly boys, thinking she didn't know. Mrs. Blenkinsop smiled to herself and went back inside, leaving them to their privacy.
***
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