Title: Talk
Author: kieksterbanjo
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Would I like to own them? YES. But do I? Alas No. I would also like to make money from this and marry Benji Schwimmer from So You Think You Can Dance but one must live in the real world. *sigh*
Summary: Greg thinks it's time to have a talk...

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"We have to talk." Greg said walking into the office which was in all reality the spare bedroom.

"About?" Nick asked flicking his eyes from his paperwork for a mere second to look at Greg over his glasses before turning back. He hated bringing work home, but if he didn't finish this report by their shift that night Grissom was going to have his ass; so he resigned to getting it done as quickly as possible. However he also knew that ignoring Greg would only result in one pissed off boyfriend and that was something he didn't want to face after finishing his 'homework'.

"About us." Greg said simply.

"Kind of a broad topic there Greggo. Care to narrow it down a bit?" Nick asked not even bothering to look up. He did however reach for a piece of paper on his desk and read it over.

"About our relationship." Greg clarified.

It did little to help Nick though, who sighed, put down the paper he had been reading and turned to face Greg in his chair. Greg stood in the doorway in nothing but a pair of black boxers and his favourite Spongebob Square Pants t-shirt, "Is there something in particular you wish to talk about Mr. Cryptic? Or am I going to have to guess?"

Greg just quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest.

Nick sighed again and laughed, "Okay it would appear I'm guessing." He sat for a moment and put a hand under his chin in mock concentration, "Well I can tell by the look on your face that whatever it is, it's important. It can't be the 'tell your parents about us' talk because as I recall I told them about us 6 months ago. It can't be the 'I finished all your Blue Hawaiian' talk because I KNOW I just bought you more yesterday. It sure as HELL can't be the 'you forgot to tape my shows' talk because I checked and rechecked the TIVO and Spongebob, Without A Trace and American Idol are all on there. So I would hope this is a new talk...because I'm all out of talks." Nick smiled as he watched Greg's scowl deepen.

"I moved in here 8 months ago and it still feels like YOUR apartment and not OUR apartment." Greg said sadly looking at his feet as he twisted one on its big toe in the carpet.

"What are you talking about Greg?" Nick asked confused. This was indeed a new talk.

"There isn't enough of 'me' here." Greg shrugged.

Nick had to laugh at that, even though Greg's head snapped up and a glare fixed his features, "Greg, are you insane? You've pretty much taken over! You repainted the bedroom; your Fruit Loops and Blue Hawaiian are headlining in the kitchen; your hair products seem to be reproducing in the bathroom; you've got a desk in here filled with journals; you've got magazines and journals piled everywhere; and you even installed a huge fish tank in the bedroom!" Nick said in astonishment.

"But there isn't any of 'me' in the living room." Greg said softly with a pout.

Nick clicked his tongue, mimicked Greg's pout and let and 'awwww' fall from his lips, "Come here, Panda." He said holding out his hands.

At the sound of the pet name, Greg made his way over to Nick and let Nick pull him into a hug with his head resting on Greg's chest, "What do you want to put in the living room?" He asked.

Greg shrugged, "Just some pictures and stuff."

"Greg you can put whatever you want in the living room. This is your house too."

"Thanks." Greg smiled as he looked down at Nick, "Wanna help me figure out where we're going to put everything?"

"Let me finish my paperwork and I'm all yours." Nick said placing a kiss on Greg's t-shirt covered chest.

"Just the way I like it." Greg smiled as he ran from the room. Nick soon heard the familiar bars of the Spongebob theme song and chuckled, wondering if he had a 30 year old boyfriend or an 8 year old son, as he went back to his paper work.

The End

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