Title: Unwanted Gift
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5_prompts, Month of November challenge
Prompt: Day 19 - Dare - Leave something on your main character's doorstep
Author's Note: Continuation of "Precious To Me".
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Ryan Wolfe, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Ryan yawned as he made his way down the hallway, wearing nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. He wanted to make coffee before he and Greg got ready to go to work tonight; they had just taken a shower together after they'd awakened.

After what had happened in the park yesterday, he still felt a little shaken, but his nerves had settled after an afternoon of sleep. It was amazing what sleep could do, especially sleep that wasn't haunted by nightmares like the ones he'd been having lately, he reflected.

He was just glad that nothing had happened to Greg; he was surprised that what had happened that day hadn't found its way into his nightmares, and made them even worse than usual. He had no doubt that it would, sooner or later, and he didn't look forward to it.

But at least he'd been able to get a decent amount of sleep, for once, so he wouldn't be yawning halfway through their shift at work tonight. They would have to tell the other CSIs what had happened, of course; that would be something to keep him awake, too.

He went into the living room after he'd started the coffee; frowning he stopped on his way towards the hallway, all thoughts of getting to the bedroom and getting dressed forgotten. He would swear that he'd heard something outside the front door.

They were in his new apartment; they'd decided to spend the day there after they'd gotten back from the park, to let Wolfie get more accustomed to being in the new place. After talking quietly for a while, he and Greg had fallen asleep on their new bed, wrapped in each other's arms.

Greg was in their bedroom now; if there was something outside the door that threatened either of them, then his boyfriend was safe from it. But he wasn't exactly in a position to go outside and see what might be there, wearing only a towel.

Making a quick decision, Ryan reached for his gun, sitting on the coffee table. He advanced towards the front door, not caring that he was nearly naked, only trying to focus on whatever -- or whoever -- might be beyond that portal, waiting for either himself or Greg to emerge.

Approaching the door, he paused for a few moments, listening intently. He couldn't hear anything outside, only the usual noise of traffic on the street by the parking lot. What was it that had caught his attention? Was he just being paranoid?

No, he wasn't, Ryan told himself firmly. He had heard something by the front door; he had been sure that someone was there, someone who had tried to open the door as quietly as possible, as if they thought it might be open.

Moving to stand by the door, Ryan pressed his ear to the wood; he could hear nothing, but he wasn't convinced that no one was there. He wasn't going to simply open the door without taking precautions, just in case his sixth sense was correct.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob, quickly unlocking the door and swinging it open, his gun at the ready. But there was no one there; he had apparently been mistaken. He let out the breath he'd been holding, closing his eyes for just a moment in relief.

There was no one at their door. He must have just been imagining things, letting his paranoia get the better of him. He had to stop that, Ryan scolded himself inwardly, his gaze moving around the parking lot, searching for a face that he could never forget.

When he looked down, his eyes widened in surprise, a gasp coming from his throat. There was a small box at the side of their door, obviously put there by someone. It had no postmark, so it hadn't come through the mail; the unwanted gift had been hand-delivered.

Moving cautiously, Ryan bent and picked up the box, wondering what was in it. It felt fairly heavy, but he had no idea just from the feel of the package what it could contain. He didn't want to bring it inside their apartment; there was no telling what might happen when it was opened.

It couldn't be a bomb, could it? No, there was nothing about the small package that sent out that kind of a message; and besides, it wasn't big enough to hold an explosive device. As far as he knew, nothing that small could be detonated, even from a fairly close proximity.

Slowly, he backed into their apartment, carrying the package with him and putting it down on the coffee table. Sitting down on the couch in front of it, he took a deep breath, wondering if he should open it, or if he should take it in to the lab and have it done there.

No, he was going to open it here. He couldn't help but think that it was from the man who had followed him here from Miami; it was bound to be some kind of warning, something that was meant to strike fear into his heart and make him doubt his own ability to keep himself and his lover safe.

Greg came into the living room, sitting down beside him on the couch and gesturing towards the small box on the table. "What's that? Did somebody send us something?" he asked, obviously wondering who it could have come from. "I know I didn't order anything."

"I think it's from .... him." Ryan's tone was flat, his heart seeming to leap up into his throat as he reached for the package, starting to unwrap the plain brown paper. When the wrapping was gone, he slowly took the top of the box, his eyes widening as he saw what it contained.

A gun. The very gun that he had been tortured with in Miami. He was sure of that; there was no other reason for that bastard to send a gun to him, other than to try and unnerve him completely with the vision of what had been done to him here in front of his eyes.

He and Greg both sat there, staring at the gun in the box, until Greg finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "It's that gun, isn't it?" he asked, his voice bled of all inflection. "I don't think he'd just send you a gun out of the blue. He sent it for a reason."

"Yeah, it is," Ryan answered, swallowing hard to keep back the scream that was rising in his throat. "It's a warning, Greg. I'm sure it is. I don't think he's going after me this time. Yesterday in the park proved it. He's trying to tell me that he's going for you this time."

They sat there staring at the gun for a long time, both of them feeling its malevolence as though it was a tangible presence in the quiet room. Ryan had the definite feeling that any peace that might find here was shattered, gone until they could put his nemesis behind bars where he belonged.

***