Title: Chemical Reaction
Author: sephirothflame
Pairing: David Hodges/Greg Sanders
Characters: David Hodges, Greg Sanders, and OFC
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I'm aware of.
Summary: Greg Sanders. David Hodges. They were just two people living in Seattle with nothing in common, but by the time Las Vegas came around, they'd known each other forever.
Author's Notes: There are a number of things that inspired this, one of them being 6 Degrees (Produced/Owned/Whatever by J.J. Abrams) and long hours of listening to nothing but Savage Garden. Sorry if anything is offensive, but I don't think it is. Bah.
Disclaimer: The Who, Queen, and most importantly, CSI, are property of someone who is not me, just in case you were confused.

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; If there is any reaction, both are transformed."
-Carl Jung

The first time they met they didn't know that they'd one day they'd be inseparable. It hadn't mattered that first day, nothing had. Greg's parents had been in Paris on a get better trip for his mother slash second honeymoon and he was staying with his aunt in Seattle. David's mom was friends with Greg's aunt, and was dragged along to her baby shower because she couldn't find anyone else to keep an eye on him.

He'd spent the first half hour curled up in the car on that rainy day; forehead resting on the cool window with his eyes closed listening to the gentle sound. He didn't want to be inside ate such a girly party, especially since he didn't even know the women. Greg had wandered outside, attempting to look for a downed soldier toy he could have sworn he lost in the yard earlier that morning when he spotted David. He'd crept up to the car and knocked on the window, startling David out of his daze.

Greg had peeked up at him pathetically like all kindergarteners could do, attempting a weak smile while trying to comprehend why David would want to sit in a car on a rainy day when there was cake inside the nice warm house. David wouldn't crack the window or prop the door open, so they couldn't talk. The car doors weren't locked though so he popped open the backdoor and crawled into the car before David could speak.

"You're in my car," David had said slowly, blinking in a dazed sort of confusion.

"It's no fun talking through doors," Greg had shrugged, "especially when it's raining."

David didn't reply, but he had crawled from the passenger's seat to the back to dig about for the blanket to keep Greg from dripping on the upholstery. Even though it had been Greg's fault, David was the one who would get in trouble for it. Greg had snuggled into the blanket, shivering, before leaning over and snuggling against David. The older male resisted the urge to lurch away, and had been able to gather the strength to pat the top of the child's head.

"I'm Greg," the small child beamed, "Mommy calls me Gregory, but I don't like it. It's too fancified."

David smiled wryly, "I'm David." He had said softly.

"Aren't you bored in here, David?" Greg asked, looking up at David with big brown eyes.

"Not as bored as I'd be in there," David had replied, closing his own blue eyes once again.

"Doesn't your mommy care that you're out here all alone?" Greg had asked, not much caring that David had looked tired, a little sick even.

"Not really," David said, a little more bitterly then he had intended, "she didn't really want me to come anyways."

"Oh," Greg blinked, confusion flooding his face, "Why?"

"She doesn't like me much," David sighed, feeling the pain from the truth of his words kick in. Just because she didn't like him didn't mean he didn't want her too. Truth be told, he didn't like her either much, as he couldn't remember her once doing something motherly. Still, he wanted her to like him.

"Oh," Greg had said before snuggling closer to David, "Well, I like you, so you can stop being so alone."

David smiled bitterly, but couldn't bring himself to say thank you. While he had trouble admitting it, even to himself, he liked the kid too. How could you not like such a small, adorable child who admitted to liking you and wanted to snuggle with you in a cold car when they could be inside eating cake in a warm room where laughter and happy talk bounced off the walls? It was destiny, he had figured, and David wished he could have taken Greg home with him. He had always wanted a little brother, after all.

The second time they had run into each other was years later on a mildly chilly Halloween night, and the two of them had completely forgotten about each other. Neither of them even remembered the baby shower that brought them together even when they heard there parents mention it when they were around. No, both had long since gotten over that day. As it was Greg was living in the moment, dressed as a pirate and running door to door with a candy filled jack-o-lantern basket bouncing at his side with his mom hovering behind him worry-filled as he approached each house.

David wasn't nearly as happy a camper as the small child. He had intended to spend the night at the library studying for his math test. He would have been much happier anywhere but at his home. Instead, his mom had been invited to a party with her friends, and made him stay home to hand out candy. Which, normally, wouldn't be so bad, but she got the damn idea that he should have been wearing a costume to do it. Funny, how the only time she cared about him was when her own appearance was at stake. As it was he was forced into wearing an eye patch that itched and smelled like cheap vodka (which aroused suspicions) and answering the door every few minutes while trying to study.

He remembered answering the door for Greg, seeing his beaming face as he sing-songed "Trick or Treat". He had forced a smile that Greg hadn't noticed seemed beyond fake, it was so bad, and handed the small pirate a large Hershey's bar (his mom firmly believing that the better the candy the more the neighborhood liked her). Greg turned to leave before remembering a "thank you" and turned to skip away when a small black dart hopped from the bushes scaring the small pirate to death, before dashing up a nearby tree.

Never before in his life had David heard a child scream so loud. Greg dropped his candy and run to his mother's side for protection, tears pouring down the side of his face. Something in Greg's mom had snapped then, and furious, she marched up to David, ignoring the spilled candy strewn across the yard. David had rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to groan. Dealing with a mother of a snot-nosed trick-or-treater when he was suppoused to be studying for a math test was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Care to tell me why the hell my son spilled his candy and came running back to me screaming and crying?" She snarled, grabbing the door before he could close it on her.

"Shadow is an outdoor cat," David replied coolly, eyes cold and emotionless, "She loves scaring kids on Halloween. Can't help it that it was your son."

"You should keep that damn demon inside! It's a threat! Do you realize how badly my son could have been hurt?" She snapped, hands thrown up in exasperation.

"Operative words being 'could have'," David sneered in return.

"Mommy," Greg whispered softly, tugging at his mother's soft, fluffy jacked lightly, tears still filling his eyes, "I'm okay..."

"How dare you get smart with me!" His mother howled, fists clenched tightly in front of her.

"Right, sorry," David snarled, "I'll just get pissed off like you."

"That is no why to talk in front of a child!" Greg's mother continued to howl, and people nearby on the streets started to stare, shushing their children and urging them around David's house.

"Mommy, it's all good," Greg whined, "See, the candy is still good, too!"

Greg tugged at his mother's hand, but saw how futile it had been. He let go, watching her and David argue bitterly as he crouched in the yard to pick up his spilled candy and put it back in his basket. "See," he had repeated, over and over again, even though no one was paying attention to him, "everything is good, mommy, everything is good." He had picked up all the candy he could see in the dark night and returned to his mother's side. He hadn't realized how much he had missed of the argument until he saw his mother punch David, watching him stumble slightly backwards, blood trickling down his lips.

Greg and his mother had left then to go home, and that had been the last time Greg went trick-or-treating. David on the other hand, didn't get off so easily. Half an hour later while he had nursed his bust lip, children flocked to the door again. The next morning his mother heard about the incident with Greg's mother from one of the neighbors. His mother had thrown a number of objects at him, screaming off the top of lungs at him for being such a horrible person and for causing her so much disgrace. He had a scar on his foot from where vase had shattered and cut him.

By the time they had met the third time, David was in collage and living in his own apartment and working in the local department store for six bucks an hour, twelve hours a week. It was almost Christmas this time when he and Greg met, only the young messy haired male was toting along his girlfriend who insisted he wait and watch as he tried on every outfit she could find, only for her to be disappointed as he couldn't afford anything for her.

The blond girl had taken in a number of outfits, most of them being pink in colour, and Greg had spent the last half hour waiting outside the dressing rooms as she occasionally came out to show off the expensive clothes she knew he could never buy for her. David was rummaging through a nearby clothes rack, reorganizing the tops by size because the damned costumers assumed they could just throw everything on a shelf and no one would notice. And no one would have, if they were human, but David's boss wasn't human.

"What about this one?" Greg's girlfriend whined, twirling around in the skirt so fast David could catch glances of her red panties.

"I don't know," Greg frowned, tilting his head to the side, "I liked the last one better."

"You didn't like the last one," She pouted, arms folded under her breasts, sticking out her lower lip farther then was attractive.

"Yeah, well, I liked it better," Greg flushed.

"Ugh! Greg!" She huffed, "Next time I'm coming with my girls!"

"I told you to come with your girls!" Greg squeaked indigently, folding his arms over his chest.

She stormed off into the dressing rooms to change into another outfit, but she'd come out with another outfit she couldn't afford, completely forgetting she had been mad at him. David chuckled lightly under his breath, having dealt with such a girl once before. Greg looked up, startled to see him there, and then a mildly annoyed look crossed his face. Arms still crossed, he had glared at David who lost interest and went back to reorganizing the cloths on the racks.

"What's so funny?" Greg asked cautiously, ready to defend his girl.

"No woman is worth that torment," David smirked, "Especially not such an annoying one."

"Hey!" Greg squeaked, and then flushed at the high pitched tone in his voice.

"Trust me," David smirked, "you're just a kid, and she's pretty. Probably not good at anything right? Maybe, she might be able to give a half decent blow job."

"Don't you dare talk about her like that!" Greg snarled, fists flying up in front of him.

"I'm right though, aren't I?" David smirked more, and he had been unable to keep the high and mighty tone out of his voice.

"Eh-" Greg started, but was cut off by his girlfriend popping up by his side, confusion flooding her face as to why he would rather be talking to some employee then to her.

"What's wrong, baby?" She asked, cooing softly, "You don't look so hot."

"Nothing," Greg had said, looking at her and forcing a smile.

When he turned to look at David again the older male was gone, as if he'd never been there. Greg was starting to believe it and forgot about him by the time his girlfriend had managed to convince him to buy her an angel pendent. David remembered Greg though, for a while. His young cute face, but the even when they saw each other passing in crowded streets he didn't recognize Greg, and Greg didn't recognize him. Not that there was much of a loss though, they were just random people to each other after all.

It was raining again, the time they ran into each other the fourth time, but they were both nestled in chairs in a hospital waiting room outside of the surgery wing. Greg was curled up on a chair, his chin resting on his drawn up knees, rocking back and forth slowly, a bandage taped to his forehead weakly. David sat across from him, an all around bored look to his face. It didn't bother him it was his mother was in surgery, he was only there to tell the doctor's her medical information and to instruct them to send her to her parent's plot of land to be buried when she died. David had no doubt she would die, in fact, he hoped she would.

Still, it was odd to be sitting across from the person who had caused the car crash she had been in. He was almost grateful to him, David had to admit, but he could never say that out loud. To think that the women who had caused him so much pain and suffering was dying on an operating table was quite hilarious and he had to bite back the maniac laughter. Greg was watching him now, his rocking slowing down to a stop. He couldn't believe the man across from him was so calm, while he was worried to death about the girl he had been driving with in the operating room almost dying.

"Your mother," Greg began, those his voice was cracked from tears, and David looked up, a slightly startled look on his face, "Don't you care?"

"Everyone dies," David shrugged, and Greg felt the anger swell up in him.

"She's your mother!" Greg tried to sound angry, but his voice was much to raspy.

"She's a complete stranger," David had replied coolly, "We're only related by a few choice chromosome matches."

"How can you talk about your mother like that?" Greg asked, too tired to remain angry.

"Easy, I hate her," David sighed in reply, head rolling back, eyes scanning and counting the ceiling tiles.

"Why?" Greg asked softly, confusion filling his voice.

The pathetic half-whine reminded David of a memory he couldn't quite place, and he was certain he had heard it somewhere before, though he wasn't quite sure where. Not that he could recognize it, as he was positive he had never seen the smaller male in front of him before in his life. Though he had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not that David should think that about the man who had probably just killed his mother, but he was bored and he needed some sort of daydream to keep him from dying of boredom. David felt Greg's eyes boring into his neck, and he rolled his eyes, before looking at him again.

"Because she never liked me," David had replied simply, shrugging casually.

"Oh," Greg said softly, frowning lightly.

Once again it was a sound David could remember hearing somewhere but couldn't quite place it. His thoughts were interrupted by a young female doctor with her hair pulled up in a high pony tail and hot pink clipboard approached them. David supposed she was attractive, if you were into that sort of thing. Her eyes were trained on her clipboard, reading it to make sure she got all the facts right. Sighing, she cleared her throat, even thought both David and Greg were staring at her.

"Mr. Sanders?" She asked in a gentle, motherly voice.

Izzy?" Greg asked, standing up suddenly, "How is Izzy? Is she okay? Please, tell me she's going to be okay!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Sanders," the doctor continued, not an ounce of true pity or sympathy in her voice, "There were complications during the surgery- There was nothing we could do to save her."

Greg fell backwards in his seat, hands flying to cover his face as sobs ripped through his body, and David had to look away, having been unable to watch Greg's jerking and shuddering body.

"I'm sorry for your loss," She said softly, before turning and leaving.

David felt a breach of hospital etiquette, but everything he knew about hospitals he had learned from TV. Wasn't the doctor suppoused to ask him if he wanted to see her body? Hell, David had been tempted to haul her ass back to drag Greg away with her so he wouldn't have to watch him sob pathetically. He let out a soft groan, before closing his eyes and attempting to block out the noise. As it turned out, it was a pointless endeavor, and the pathetic crying was all he could concentrate on.

"Who was she?" David found himself asking in what shocked him when he realized it was a soothing tone.

Greg hiccupped, and looked up at him weakly through glassy eyes, wiping frantically at the tears still pouring down his face. David's stomach flipped as he saw the bright blush on the smaller male's cheeks from crying, the large pathetic blue eyes, and the pouting lip. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen something so beautiful, and immediately kicked himself mentally for thinking that the poor suffering male had been beautiful.

"Who was she?" David had repeated, his voice catching in his throat.

"My fiancé," Greg had managed to say, and David immediately regretted asking.

The final time they ran into each other was in a bar, and they recognized each other immediately. Greg had looked nervous upon seeing him, but the demanding and enticing glare from David had caused him to walk over and plop down next to him. Greg hadn't been able to meet David's gaze, and David hadn't really cared. After a few short awkward minutes of conversation, it was discovered they had both been looking for companionship and even years later David couldn't remember how he had convinced Greg to come home with him.

They didn't talk much that night, too busy exploring each other's bodies with eager mouths and fingers, fully intent on having an amazing one night stand that they wouldn't want to forget about. And if David's surprising strength and agility were any indication, it was a memory Greg would be calling upon for years to come. By the time they were both worn out, Greg had pinned David to the bed so that he wouldn't leave just yet, snuggled together and listening to the soft rain outside.

Greg didn't mention the death of Izzy or of David's mother, and didn't apologize over and over again even though he didn't think he deserved to be forgiven. David didn't mention how happy and grateful he was that Greg had been curled up with him, and would never admit so even over his dead body. Still, they both got the feeling they knew what the other was trying to express. Instead, just snuggled close together in the cold Seattle night, eyes half closed listening to each other's gently inhalation and exhalation of breath.

By the time Greg had finally fallen asleep and waken up again, David had left, leaving the messy haired male alone in his apartment. Greg had taken a quick shower, and upon inspection of the entire apartment, couldn't find his Queen shirt anywhere, and had to settle with stealing a black The Who concert tee from David's closet. After all, if David had his Queen shirt, then surely Greg had a right to at least one of the older male's shirts. Besides, The Who shirt probably had the same sentimental value to David as his Queen shirt did to him. Either way, he had been long gone by the time David returned home from work that night. He'd found the Queen shirt days later behind the couch in his living room, and didn't notice the missing shirt for years to come.

On David's first day of work in the Las Vegas Crime Lab he had seen Greg, and his stomach flipped. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see the now-blonde, and was even less surprised to see Greg wearing his old The Who tee shirt. He had invited Greg over to his place that night, and was still there when Greg woke up in the morning, curled up beneath him, fingers entwined together. It wasn't so bad, he reasoned, lying there with Greg. After all, he felt like he'd known him his whole life and he'd be damned if he didn't want Greg there for the rest of it.