Title: Questions
By: Daniella
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Characters: Nick, Greg
Genres: PWP
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Greg likes to play games. (Inspired by the Question Game from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, by Tom Stoppard).

"Do you wanna play Questions?"

"What?"

"Questions. It's a game."

Nick gave Greg an odd look. He knew the younger CSI was prone to random outbursts, but this one definitely took first prize. But Nick had to admit, he was intrigued.

"Umm... how do you play?"

"It's easy. We just have a conversation, but we can only ask questions. Your opponent gets a point if you make a statement, or if you say something irrelevant, or if you wait too long before replying. Make sense?"

"I suppose..."

"Hah. Statement. Point to me." Greg grinned savagely at him.

"Hey, no fair. We hadn't started yet."

"Sorry," Greg shrugged. "It's a ruthless game."

Nick glared at him over his bottle of beer, and it only caused Greg's smirk to widen as he stretched back luxuriously in Nick's armchair, and Nick smiled slightly too, in spite of himself. It was reasons like this that he invited the younger man over every time they were both off work; Nick was surprised sometimes at how well they got along. Greg was so unlike any of the friends Nick had growing up, he was loud and impulsive and he made up stupid question games but he had such an infectious personality that you couldn't help but play along.

"All right." Nick said, sitting up straight as if he were bracing himself for a physical attack. "You start."

"Ok. Why did you become a CSI?"

Nick paused, startled at Greg's speed. "Uhh.... Because I wanted to...?"

"No, Nicky! That doesn't count. Just because you raise your voice at the end of a statement doesn't make it a question!" Greg looked exasperated.

"Ok, ok! Are... are you enjoying your evening?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"... Why not?"

"And what would you say if I told you I was enjoying it?"

"What would you say if I told you I think this game is stupid?"

Greg's eyebrows rose in surprise, and Nick grinned with pride. He was catching on.

"Why are you being so mean to my game?" Greg had a mock-pout on his face now.

"Did you ever consider that I do it to tease you?"

"Who doesn't tease me?"

A pause. "That was rhetorical. It shouldn't count." It was Nick's turn to pout.

"Oh, stop your whining. Point to me. Why do you invite me over night after night?"

Nick paused again, taken aback. He hadn't seen that one coming. "... Why not?" He choked out.

"You've used that question before. Point to me!"

"Hey! You didn't mention that we aren't allowed to repeat things!"

"Like I said, ruthless. Why don't you invite Warrick over?"

"... What?"

"Or Sara? Catherine?"

Nick stared at him, slightly shocked. This was starting to feel less like a game and more like an interrogation. "Who?" He asked lamely, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Where?"

"Why?"

"How?"

They both paused, staring at each other intently, neither daring to speak. Then, in unison, both men fell into laughter, breaking the silence sharply. Once it had died down, Greg jumped right into the game again. "I mean, what makes me so special that you have to invite me over all the time?"

"What's your point?" Nick replied, growing defensive.

"Why me?"

"Why does it matter?!" The Texan practically shouted.

Greg started, taken aback; his warm brown eyes were wide with surprise. He stared at Nick in silence for a moment, and all the while Nick held his gaze. "Did I piss you off?" He was at it again, speaking softly.

"What if I said you could never piss me off?" Nick replied. The game was getting easier and easier all the time.

"Why is that?"

Or, maybe not. Greg was staring at him again through those wide brown eyes, and Nick stared back, finding it difficult to decipher what the young CSI was thinking. He was frowning slightly, and he seemed intent, but there was that familiar sparkle in his eye.

Nick didn't know what to say, but then it didn't matter, for Greg was speaking again. "You paused too long. Point to me. What would you do if I was to kiss you right now?"

"What?"

"You've used that one before. My point."

"Wait, what?"

"Would you freak out if I was to kiss you?"

"That was rhetorical, wasn't it?"

"What if it wasn't?"

"Huh?"

"How would you feel?"

"How would I feel?"

"You didn't hear me?"

"What are you trying to do?" Nick was confused, to say the least.

But Greg had a devilish smirk on his face now, and before Nick had even finished his question the younger CSI had stood up and moved to sit next to him on the couch. He was really close...

"Isn't it obvious?" He finally asked, raising his left hand and tracing a finger along the Texan's jaw line.

Nick shivered, and Greg's smile widened.

And later on, when they were both lying in Nick's bed, sweaty and spent and peaceful, he couldn't help but ask.

"Did you devise that whole stupid questions game just to come on to me?"

"Maybe."

"That was a statement. My point."