Title: Missing Teeth
Author: weirdbagel
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hodges/Sanders
Warnings: None
Summary: A rather simple story told fom David's pov. Written in like... an hour-ish? So it might not be very good.

"Hey Hodges! Can I ask you a question?"

I blush. I burn. I shudder.

"No." I mumble as I lower my head further into my work.

"Great, so I had this dream lastnight..." He sits next to me with a plop, and my eyes don't need to leave my paperwork to tell that he's grining at me. I can feel it burrowing into my skin. It tears through the flesh at the side of my face, wrapping itself around my throat, choking me.

"You have work to do, Sanders." My words are a low grummble as I try to clear my trachea of the tightness.

"No I don't." He replies, swinging his legs just so that they kick gently at the metal legs of my stool. I glance to him and he smiles.

I blush. "Well I do."

"That's okay, I'll tell you while you work." He responds, again kicking at my seat. "So I was watching this movie-"

"I thought you told me it was a dream." I turn to him slightly, irritation shown in how tightly I handle my pen.

"Oh, this was in the dream." He explains, ignoring my discomfort. "Anyway..."

I sigh and return to my expirements. Greg could go on like this for hours, and the good people of Las Vegas would be down a CSI if I didn't let him get whatever unholy messege he had off his chest.

"I was watching this movie, in my dream. It was some horror flick. You know, zombies and busty blondes?" He pauses and I guess I'm supposed to answer.

"Hn." I acknowledge his inquiry, nodding my head quickly.

"Well through this whole movie I'm tonguing at this wiggly tooth in my mouth." He continues. "Then I reach in and I start messing with it and bam! It just, pops out!"

Somehow, I don't believe that, even if it was a dream. "Just pops out?" I question him, quirking my brow.

He stops, then laughs. "Okay, so I kinda yanked it out."

That's better. "Ah."

"Anyway, I get up to go throw it away. Yeah, I know, mouth full of blood and my top priority is throwing this thing away right?" He must have noticed my second skeptical glance. "No one ever said dreams had to make sense. So by now I notice that I'm not in my house, I'm at my mom's. And the whole family's there. And I'm going around, showing everyone this tooth I just yanked out of my skull, and suddenly the tooth starts to crumble. Right in my hand! And it's crumbling and crumbling, then it disappears."

I wait for more, but Greg doesn't continue. "That's it?"

"That's it." He nods. "I woke up after that."

"Ah." I reply as I stand and head for the microscope at the other side of the table. I expect Greg has finished and would be leaving, but no. He stays perched on that stool, looking at me with that grin.

"So?" He inquires after a brief silence.

"So what?" I ask, feeling that irritation surge up in my gut once again.

"What do you think?"

I burn. "I think you should probably brush your teeth more? What the hell do I look like, a psychic?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Now my Aunt Vickie? She's a psychic."

"So why don't you bother her?" I say through gritted teeth.

"I just wanted the Great Hodges opinion is all." Greg says with a slight pout. He stands and moves away from the stool; I can only assume he's leaving, so I turn back to the microscope. "Besides, Aunt Vickie doesn't interperet dreams." He's right at my side, leaning over my shoulder. I can feel a wave of heat shoot up my spine. "Strictly tarot and crystals." His breath is against my ear. I freeze.

"What are you doing?" I'm tense and quiet, my heart trembling in my chest.

"I don't know..." He whispers to me, and I have no time to ponder if he's telling the truth before he tilts his head to the side and kisses me.

Soft and gentle. His warm lips on mine. Too chaste, I think, for a man who talks of liquid latex and flavored condoms. Against my will I find myself hesitant to let the kiss die, and when he pulls away I lean forward, reclaiming his mouth with mine. He's startled, and damn it so am I. I pull back and look away, down at my hand resting on the tabletop. This room is too quiet. I feel I should say something, and when I look back to him I can tell he's also debating on what to say. We exchange a look, and he nods with a smile, then he turns and leaves the room. I watch him walk down the hall until the corner blocks my view.

I shudder.