Title: Who Asked You?
By: msmaggs
Pairing: minor Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An all-character post-episode story to fill in a few blanks in Episode 10x1.

***

"Ray!" Catherine waved for him to join her. "Let Greg get the supplies! I need you over here."

Feeling torn between following his boss's edict and helping his obviously perturbed team member, Ray hesitated. "I…"

"Go." Popping open the back of his Denali, Greg rolled his eyes. "Go before she blames me for you not going."

Ray reluctantly turned to join Nick and Catherine at the tape.

Watching his co-workers begin without him, Greg yanked two heavy supply cases from the truck. "That's right, big dogs, leave everything for the pup." He slammed the cases on the ground as he heard Riley laughing at him from miles away.

2 weeks earlier…

"What's wrong now, Sanders?" Riley plopped onto the locker room bench and playfully shoved the forlorn CSI. "Seriously, I've seen abused puppies at the Humane Society look happier than you." She teased, "Awww, did you check your book's ranking on Amazon again?"

"Very funny." In no mood for perkiness, Greg stood and closed his locker. "See ya tomorrow."

"No you won't." Her gleeful smile illuminated every inch of the dingy locker room. "I have the day off."

"What?" The overworked CSI's temper flared. "How did you get a day off before me? I outrank you! And Catherine said she wasn't approving any time off."

"Yeah, I know, so I told Willows to shove it." Beaming with pride, Riley jumped to her feet and opened her locker. "You should try it. It's very liberating."

"Sara tried it once and it got her suspended." Greg bristled at the awkward memories. "Catherine's probably on her way to Ecklie's office right now."

"Good." Snickering, she began emptying her locker. "I just finished my exit-interview with Ecklie and I didn't hold back."

"Exit interview?" The Stanford genius quickly pieced the puzzle together. "Wait. You quit?"

"Yeah. You should try it." She patted her stunned ex-team member's cheek while she smirked. "It's very liberating and you could use a healthy dose of liberation."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." She decided to be brutally honest. "It means you're always going to be the goofy boy wonder to Nick's heroic Batman and if that's not depressing enough, how insulting is it to watch Ray become the Ice Maiden's chosen one after only ten minutes on the job. I was the new kid and it was annoying, but you've been paying your dues for years." Leaning in, she whispered, "You know I'm right." Seeing a glimmer of hope, she took Greg by the arm. "Maybe some liquid courage is all you need to see the writing on the wall. C'mon, drinks are on me."

While helping David remove the victim from the car, Greg fell deeper into introspection. Sara, Riley, and Grissom were all well-educated, intelligent people and they all quit and went on to bigger and better things, so why couldn't he? Most importantly, they were all happier now that they were away from Vegas and out of the lab. Staring at Nick working side-by-side with Langston, Greg's irritation flared. Riley was right, all he would ever be was the superfluous sidekick.

"Greg!" Catherine waved the last member of her team to join her. It had been a shitty night and she could sense things were only going to get worse not better.

Walking over, Greg vowed to stand up for himself. The next time someone treated him like a lackey instead of a seasoned CSI, he was going to let them have it and not back down. He was done being a pushed around like a puppy in a pack of big dogs.

"Busy morning," Catherine sighed as she read her latest text message. "We've got a possible 420 on Boulder Highway. Greg, you take it."

Stunned by his boss's blatant favoritism, Greg looked at Catherine with indignation. "Are you serious? You're sending me on a trash run to a flea bag motel?"

Knowing exactly what her employee's problem was, Catherine asked, "What's the problem?"

"Why me?" Greg threw his hands in the air. "There are people here with less seniority." He wanted to yell and point to Langston, but knew that would make him appear childish.

Feeling guilty for the hundredth time, Ray stepped forward. "Present and accounted for." He wanted to earn his dues, not be given a pass.

Nodding at his less tenured co-worker, Greg felt vindicated…until he heard his boss nix the idea.

"Ray, it's alright." The experienced mother knew better than to let a child throw a tantrum and get rewarded.

Ray just wanted the uncomfortable squabble to end. "Really, I'm happy to do it."

Nick couldn't hold back any longer. "No, no, that's not the point, Ray. When your supervisor assigns you a case, you don't whine about it, you take it. He knows that."

The stunned CSI couldn't believe Nick was talking about him like he wasn't even there. It was the ultimate offense and not a new one.

Without making eye-contact, Nick repeated the insult. "He knows that."

"Who asked you?" Greg wanted to lunge forward, grab Batman's cape and strangle him with it.

Ray silently applauded Sanders for calling out Stokes. It was none of his business and yet Nick always intruded when Greg was struggling. Most of the time the intrusions were helpful, but sometimes, like today, they were condescending and awkward.

Sensing that Sanders was two seconds away from either saying or doing something that would make the embarrassing situation far worse for all parties involved, Catherine separated the quarreling children. "Nick, I need you over here." What she really needed was to work with an unemotional adult. She needed Grissom.

Before following orders, Nick had to preserve his record of always getting in the last word with Greg. "You know better than that."

Unable to stomach the lack of emotion in Nick's eyes, Greg grabbed his case. Everyone would think he stormed off like a spoiled brat who didn't get his way. "Fine." It was better for them to believe that than know his real reason for bolting.

Ray silently observed Nick watching Greg march off in a huff. It was obvious from his body language that Stokes wanted to chase after Sanders, but why? Did he want to continue the verbal thrashing or apologize for crossing the line?

"Nicky!" Catherine called, hoping to snap him out of his daze. "I said I need you over here."

"Right." Realizing he had crossed the line again, Nick hustled over. "Sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"I know." Since they were in mixed company, Catherine kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. "Let's just get back to work."

"Yeah." After one last glance over his shoulder, Nick shifted his focus from the scene he had made to the crime scene in front of him.

"He knows that," Greg exaggerated Nick's Texas twang as he retold the story. Driving to the flea bag motel he continued ranting into his cell phone. "And then he repeated it! 'He knows that'. Like I wasn't even there! I was four friggin' feet away from him and he was talking like I was in a different county!"

"Watch your language, honey." Margaret Sanders warmly scolded her boy.

"Sorry, Mom." Minding his manners, he relayed the rest of the details. "When he finally looks at me, he says 'you know better than that' like he's talking to a five year old. And did Catherine tell him to shut up and stay out of it? No, of course not. She just let him humiliate me in front of everyone."

"She probably didn't want to get in the middle of it, Gregory."

"But she's the supervisor," he retorted. "If she doesn't want to get in the middle of things then she shouldn't be a supervisor."

"What I'm saying is - maybe she didn't think the issue was work related and kept quiet hoping the two of you would realize you sounded like a crabby old married couple. She was probably hoping you would stop humiliating yourselves without her intervention, which would have only made both of you look more pathetic."

"Oh." Waiting at a red light, he replayed the scene in his head. "Okay, yeah, but he was still wrong."

"Wrong to deliver the message in public, but his words were spot on."

"What?" Accelerating through the intersection, Greg snipped into the phone, "You're supposed to be on my side, remember?"

"I know, but you really are such a whiner sometimes, Gregory. I don't know how Nick or Catherine puts up with it. It's probably the reason Sara and Grissom fled to the jungles of South America. When your supervisor tells you to do something, you do it. If you have a problem with it then you confront Catherine in private when the time is right. If you question your supervisor's judgment in public, then you deserve a public smackdown."

"Thanks for making me feel better," he groaned. "Not."

"Aww." The loving mother teased, "It's all my fault, Gregory. I spoiled you rotten and always gave in when you pitched a fit, especially if you were whining when I was downstairs playing cards and having drinks with the girls."

He chuckled into the phone, "Now that you've confessed, can I start sending you my therapy bills?"

"Only if I can send you mine." After a mutual laugh the concerned mother soberly said, "You know I wouldn't need therapy if you quit being a CSI and went back to working in the lab. If you worked in the lab then Nick wouldn't be able to boss you around anymore. You could go back to making him beg for his DNA results. Remember how much you loved doing that? You'd get your old salary back too and we both know you could use the extra cash. See, you returning to the lab is the answer to everyone's problems. Quit being a CSI, Gregory, that's my advice."

"Who asked you?" he said with a laugh.

"You called me."

"Only because you called me first."

"Which reminds me, can you come to Papa's birthday celebration or not?"

"No," he replied in a voice thick with disappointment. "With Riley gone we're swamped and pulling doubles. Sorry, Mom. I'll make a video message and you can show it to Papa Olaf at the party."

"You'd have more time off if you went back to the lab."

"Give it up, Marge," he droned while pulling into the motel parking lot. "Hey, I'm at the scene, so…"

"Okay, honey. I love you." Ever since her son was nearly beaten to death, she couldn't say those three words enough. "Be careful."

"I love you too, Mom." He smiled. "Thanks for not telling me what I wanted to hear."

"Anytime, dear." Ever since the beating, she refused to say goodbye. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah." He knew better than to say goodbye. "Later." After stowing his phone, he pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of his truck. The sight of the crime tape giving him a familiar rush, he decided to leave his disgruntled feelings behind him and focus on doing the job he loved.

"Anyone else need some coffee?" Catherine asked the guys after checking the time. "We have at least another hour to go and I'm dragging. Ray, would you mind grabbing us some?"

"I'd be happy to," Ray eagerly replied. "The usual for both of you?"

"No, I need a double," Nick answered, knowing he had a long day ahead of him. "But you don't have to go, Ray. I need to use the restroom anyway, so I'll just grab the coffee on the way back."

"What the hell, Nick?" Catherine teased her tightly wound friend. "Can I tell anyone what to do without you getting involved?"

"Uh." Nick looked to Ray and back to Catherine. "Sorry, I was just trying to save time and…"

"I was kidding, Nicky. You know I don't care who brings my caffeine as long as they do it quickly."

"Right." He pushed out a smile. "Be right back."

Once Nick was gone, Catherine turned to Ray. "You knew I was joking, right?"

"Uh…not exactly. No."

While snapping photos of the DB, Greg heard a text message come into his cell phone. He called over to the cop guarding the door. "Can you get the motel log from the manager?"

"Sure."

When the cop was gone, Greg checked the message.

I'm in Vegas and I have a surprise for you.
I'll be at the lab later.
- Sara

"Cool." A sunny smile consuming his face, Greg returned to snapping photos. The last time they had spoken, Sara had mentioned that she would be coming for a visit.

"The Manager is still being questioned," the cop explained when he returned empty-handed. "He'll bring the log as soon as he's done with the detective."

"Thanks."

Watching the news on TV, the officer grumbled, "This sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." Greg glanced up at the victim. "No wallet, no ID. He was probably robbed after the murder."

Still pissed at his supervising officer for sending him on this call, the cop muttered, "Half of the department gets to work a dead hot movie star in front of the national media but we end up on the wrong side of town in a scumbag incubator good for at least a couple of DBs a week." He shook his head. "Wasting our time."

"On what?" Greg snapped at the whining cop. "On an old man who gets tossed around this dump fighting for his life 'til he gets his skull smashed in. Whoever would do this is worth getting off the streets."

Feeling guilty for complaining, the cop apologized, "Yeah, definitely. Sorry." After watching the CSI work in silence for a few minutes, he started to worry that he'd be reported, "Hey, I didn't mean to sound like a whiner before, thanks for setting me straight. I love my job. Really, I do. Please don't tell my supervising officer that I bitched about where he sent me. He hates that and if he finds out, I'll get crap assignments for months."

Realizing he just chided the cop for doing the exact same thing he had done this morning, Greg laughed, "Don't sweat it. I was thinking the same thing when my supervisor sent me here." Only I was stupid enough to whine about it out loud. "Trust me, I won't say anything."

"Thanks."

Trying to alleviate any tension, Greg joked, "And I don't blame you. What guy wouldn't want to look at a hot blonde movie star instead of a toothless old man?"

"Exactly." Feeling comfortable that they were buds, the officer said, "Speaking of hot blondes, what happened to Adams? She was easy on the eyes."

"This is just between us, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Greg whispered, "I heard it was a classic case of lab romance gone bad."

The cop leaned in. "With Stokes, right?" The Texan had a reputation as a love 'em and leave 'em ladies man.

"Of course."

"I figured. You should hear the chicks talkin' about him in the breakroom." The cop asked with genuine curiosity, "You think it's the accent or the whole 'I survived being buried alive' thing?"

"Both." Remembering how irritated the Texan had made him that morning, Greg snickered, "But you know what they say about guys with superhero complexes?"

"Same thing as guys who drive sports cars, right?" The cop held up two fingers an inch apart.

"Exactly. It's all smoke and mirrors." Greg's riotous laughter nearly drowned out the sound of a text message dropping in. "I need to upload my prints and send them to the lab, so if you need a coffee break, I'll be gone for at least 15 minutes." Standing up, he headed for the door.

"Thanks, I could use a restroom break too."

On his way to the Denali, Greg took out his cell phone to check his message. Sorry, but you really were whining.

It was a typical Stokes non-apology. Shaking his head, he called the jerk.

"Stokes…"

"You suck at apologizing."

"Yeah? Well you suck at accepting apologies.

"With all the practice I get, you'd think I'd be better at accepting your dumbass apologies."

"Stop whining and accept my dumbass apology already."

As usual, Greg found it impossible to stay angry. "Fine! I accept your dumbass apology."

"Thanks, G." Nick's voice softened, "I really am sorry. Cath shoulda sent Ray to the flea bag motel instead of you."

"That's okay." Greg broke into a devious chuckle. "You look 10 pounds heavier on TV."

"Can't take your eyes off me, huh?

"You wish."

"Hey, I gotta go, this smokin' hot red-headed wants to have her way with me."

"Tell Catherine I'm having a blast at the flea bag motel. Best assignment of my career."

"Will do."

"One more thing…" He decided to assert a little more authority. "I don't care what you want. I'm painting the family room 'soft fern'."

"I already told you no. I can't watch football in a room painted 'soft fern'. That sounds totally queer."

"Who asked you?" Greg yelled into the phone. "Is that what this morning was about? Soft Fern?"

"No, it was about you whinin' like a two year old when you didn't get your way."

"Like you're whining about not getting your way about the family room?" Greg stood his ground. "Come on! I get bossed around work. I get bossed around at home. Is it really too much to ask to be the boss of the family room walls?"

When Nick returned with three coffees in hand, Catherine grabbed her caffeine and quietly asked, "Did he accept your apology?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about." Nick brought his cup to his mouth to hide his smile. "Where's Ray?"

"Grabbing some more markers." Glancing around at all the TV cameras, the self-conscious forty-something female said, "I would have worn something more flattering if I knew I was going to be on TV all day. The camera adds 10 pounds."

"So I've heard."

"Greg told you we look fat, didn't he?"

"For the record, he said I look ten pounds heavier, but you look great…especially your hair. Somethin' about the color really catchin' the sunlight."

"Oh." Flicking her red locks off her shoulder, Catherine grinned, "In that case, next time I'll send Ray to the flea bag motel."

"Sara!" Greg greeted his former teammate with open arms. "What are you doing here? Tired of being happy and married?" From the smile on her face he knew the answer would be no.

"No," Sara replied while radiating marital bliss. "Grissom is teaching at the Sorbonne while we're waiting for our research grant to get funded."

After listening to her entire explanation, Greg's smile widened. He didn't know how much he had missed her until she was back.

"How's the world treating you?"

"Oh, you know. Still being treated like the lab tech with the crazy hair." It was nice to have someone other than his mother to confide in. "I'd run away to the jungle to get some respect, but I'm a wuss about needles and can't bring myself to get the malaria shots."

"For the record, I didn't run away from anything or anyone." Smirking, she clarified, "I was running toward my dream and Grissom followed me."

"No one would follow me."

Taking her friend by the arm, Sara teased, "Then why do you stick around?"

"Same reason you put up with Grissom all those years." He released a devious chuckle. "The sex is great and I hate paying rent."

"Shut up." She didn't know how much she missed his sense of humor until he was back in her life giving her a hard time.

"Let's go, Sara!" Catherine shouted from across the hall. "Pancakes are on me."

"Coming!" She patted her stomach. "After eating all that fine French food, I'm ready for some diner grub."

"Uh oh. Cravings. Did Grissom ply you with vino, pop a Viagra, and knock you up in the City of Love?" Greg ducked and avoided her smack just in time. "You missed me!"

As much as she loved Grissom and the adventures she they had been sharing, she couldn't deny it felt good to be home. "Yeah, I did." Joining Nick and Catherine in the hallway, she smiled. "I guess there really is no place like home."

"That's right, Dorothy."

"Sara!" Hodges darted over.

Greg snickered, "Speaking of the Wizard of Odd."

"Where's Grissom? Is he with you?" Hodges scanned the hall. "He hasn't been returning my calls."

"He's um…really busy." Sara sweetly patted her husband's stalker on the shoulder. "But you're at the top of his list."

Standing in the middle of the family room, Greg proudly pointed to the three by three square he had just painted on the wall. "See…Soft Fern is the perfect choice for this room."

There was no denying it matched the furniture perfectly and gave the room a soothing feel. "You're right, G."

"Really?" It wasn't a phrase he heard often, so he felt compelled to double-check. "Seriously? You like it?"

"Yeah." Stepping behind Greg, he slipped his arms around his waist. "I do."

"So I can paint the room? I mean, all joking aside, it's your house, so I want you to be…"

"It's our house," Nick whispered into his lover's ear.

"Not technically."

With a chuckle, Nick sweetly asked, "If it'll make you feel better, we can put your name on my shitty upside down mortgage."

"No, that's okay. I can't afford that kind of validation in this economy." Greg replied in a laugh, "Permission to paint the walls will have to do."

"You don't need my permission, remember? You're the self-declared boss of the family room walls. You can paint 'em whatever you want." Nick placed a tender kiss on his partner's cheek and tightened his embrace. "But thanks for askin'."

***

Epilogue

"I found a bunch of plastic sheeting in the garage," Nick announced upon returning to the family room. "How about we prep the room today, then we can paint tomorrow when we get home from work."

"Sounds good." After sliding their chocolate brown leather couch away from the wall, Greg jokingly asked, "Do you have that plastic sheeting on hand in case I drive you crazy enough to kill me one night?'

"Busted." Nick returned the laugh.

"Uh oh." Greg inspected the wrapper on one of the rolls. "This one's open."

"Yeah, I think I came close to killin' you that day you blurted the final score of the Aggie game just as I sat down to watch it." He had just worked fourteen hours in the rain and all he wanted to do was drink beer, and watch the game he recorded.

Remembering the drama, Greg nodded as he shook open the roll of plastic. "I'm glad you had second thoughts."

Grabbing the end of the roll, Nick replied, "Only 'cause I didn't want my mama to find out I was gay at the murder trial."

"I never thought I'd be grateful for your family's right-wing conservative values." After covering the couch with plastic, Greg said, "Speaking of mothers finding stuff out, I told my mom I wouldn't be able to make it to California for Papa's party."

"Cath said no?" Nick was surprised she wouldn't approve it.

"I didn't ask."

"Why?"

Sliding the rustic wood coffee table under the sheeting, Greg explained, "I wasn't gonna ask for a night off when all she's done since Riley quit is bitch that we're backlogged. I'm already the low man on the totem pole and," meeting his partner's gaze, he added, "a notorious whiner."

"We're not goin' back there, are we?" Nick droned as he opened a second roll of plastic. "You know I hate it when you bring shit up after I apologize."

"Sorry." Unplugging the floor lamp next to the overstuffed leather arm chair, Greg sighed, "I didn't ask for the night off because I don't want to give Catherine another reason to think I'm not reliable."

"G, if she couldn't rely on you, she wouldn't have assigned you to a solo 420 in a seedy part of town." After shaking out the plastic he finished his thought. "Hell, I used to get pissed for the opposite reason. I hated when Grissom kept me at the scene and sent Sara on solo runs because it made me feel like he couldn't rely on me."

"Yeah, but now we know it had nothing to do with your ability as a CSI and everything to do with his ability to concentrate when Sara was oozing unresolved sexual tension."

"I know the feeling," Nick chuckled recalling the feeling of being turned on and unable to act upon it.

"She seems really happy, don't you think?"

"Sara? Yeah, but if she's really happy then why isn't she in one of the most romantic cities in the world with her new husband?"

"You think they're having problems?"

"I just know I wouldn't want to be that far away from the person I love."

Greg laughed at his perpetually randy partner. "Yeah, but Grissom and Sara are used to going years without sex, you're not. You call home for long-distance lovin' on the first day of a forensics conference." He snickered. "Not that I mind."

"I was talkin' about companionship, not sex." Nick tossed a throw pillow at his lover's head. "I call home to hear your voice and talk to you. The phone sex is a nice bonus, but it's not the reason I call ya."

"Wait…are you saying I'm better at talking than sex?" Greg half-laughed as he pushed the last chair under the sheeting. "Is that supposed to be a compliment, because it doesn't feel like one?"

"Yeah, it's a compliment. I've had sex with a bunch of people, but I couldn't talk to them like I could talk to you. I'm sure Grissom feels the same way."

"About me?" Greg deadpanned.

"About Sara, dipshit!" Nick shoved his hands his hips. "Can't you see I'm sayin' how much I love you?"

"Yeah, but I still want to hear I'm good in the sack."

"When did I say you weren't?" Nick rolled his eyes. "Why do I always have to be the romantic one?"

"Because I'm a hapless Norwegian geek, not a suave cowboy who has been romancing clueless little ladies and closeted ranch boys since puberty." Grabbing the can of Soft Fern paint and brush he had used earlier, he painted a giant heart over the fireplace in the family room and wrote NS + GS inside it. "There. Look who's bringing the romance now."

"Why didn't you write forever in the heart?"

"Are you seriously critiquing my spontaneously painted heart?" Greg flashed his most lovable smile. "I didn't write forever because it's implied. I thought you knew that for better or worse, the only way you're ever getting rid of me is in one of those plastic tarps."

"Make sure you include that sweet thought in your vows if we ever take the plunge."

"Definitely." Grabbing a roll of paint tape, Greg said, "I think we should just paint and get it over with."

"No way, man. We need to tape the trim, prime the walls, and then paint two coats." Nick checked his watch. "If we go to bed right now we'll only get six hours of sleep before the alarm goes off. I'm beat."

"I don't mind doing it by myself if you're tired."

Nick chuckled into his beer bottle, "Yeah, but I mind goin' to bed by myself."

"And the truth comes out." Greg dropped the paint roller and pan he had picked up. "Since you paid for my breakfast I guess I have to sleep with you."

"Aww, c'mon, you can't blame me for wantin' to share a pillow with ya, G." Nick chuckled as he zoomed by. "You're so good at talkin'!"

"Who asked you?"

The real reason Nick was anxious to get his mate in the bedroom was the surprise he had left on his pillow.

"What's this?" Greg asked when he saw a folded paper.

"Read it and find out." Nick sat on the edge of their bed to enjoy the reveal.

"Two tickets to LA."

"For Papa Olaf's birthday party. I'm goin' with ya."

Glancing up from the paper, Greg remarked, "I just told you I don't want to ask for the time off because..."

"Yeah, but what you didn't know was that after I screwed up today , I asked Catherine for a night off for both of us and got it approved." Nick excitedly said, "I'm goin' with ya. I even called your mom and told her the good news. It was right after you called her and told her you weren't comin', so she was totally confused." His smile grew." She also told me she agreed with me that you're a whiner."

"Chicks always like you better, even my mommy."

"What can I say? I'm a ladies man." Grinning, the cocky cowboy crashed onto the fluffy bedding, tossed his shoes, and opened his arms.

"I..." Deciding to put his ego aside, Greg kicked off his shoes and slid into his lover's embrace and showed his appreciation with a tender kiss. "Thanks for getting the tickets and asking for the time off."

"You're welcome." Their noses brushing, Nick whispered, "I was afraid you might be ticked at me for interferin' and not lettin' you make your own decisions."

"For a moment, yeah, but Papa isn't getting any younger. This could be his last birthday. It's what I need to do."

"Yeah." Taking the papers out of his partner's hand, Nick carefully placed them on the nightstand. "And we could use a break from this town, even if it is only 36 hours."

"We can go to the beach." Greg blanketed his lover's body in between urgent kisses.

"And watch the sunrise."

"You're such a romantic."

"Mmm." Nick slid his hands under his partner's t-shirt and expertly freed him from it. "We can eat eggs at that place by the water," he announced before tugging his shirt over his head and flinging it. "I love those eggs."

"You're always thinking of your stomach."

"And we both know what you're always thinkin' of." Nick moaned as he pushed his partner south.

Eagerly kissing his way down his partner's six-pack, Greg replied, "Not that you're complaining."

"Never." Propping up on his elbows, he enjoyed the view. "Mmm, don't stop there."

Stopping, Greg tormented his mate. "After eggs, we should check into a motel for an hour of action since you won't touch me under my parents' roof."

"I told ya, if I can hear your grandfather snorin' in the room across the hall that means your grandparents can hear every noise comin' from our room."

"I keep telling you they take out their hearing aids when they go to bed."

While Greg laughed at him, Nick grumbled, "How can you want to get naked at a motel after everything you've seen in this town?"

"Real perverts never actually do it in the bed! As long as we stay on the sheets we'll avoid any hardcore germs."

"You have an answer for everything," Nick gasped when the buttons on his Levi's were popped without warning.

With a puckish grin, Greg replied, "I don't have the answer for everything, but I definitely have the solution to your current problem." He left his lover's gray boxer briefs in place and exacerbated the issue with his hot breath and wandering hands.

"I hate when you make me wait."

"No you don't." Knowing his mate loved the tease almost as much as the action, Greg continued skimming the waistband of his Jockey's with this tongue. "Who's whining now?"

Nick replied with a second series of tortured whimpers.

"Whining never gets you what you want." Moving to his side of the bed, the Greg used Nick's obnoxious words from earlier that morning, "You know better than that."

"Wh..."

Grabbing a magazine from his bedside table, Greg remarked, "Maybe next time you'll think about chastising me in front of a crowd."

"Is that why you…" Miffed by the cold-hearted moved, Nick snapped. "You suck, G."

"Not today I don't."

Nick grabbed the forensics magazine from his laughing partner's hands. "I hate you."

"You totally love me."

"Maybe, but let's just say I'm startin' to see the appeal of leavin' your significant other in a foreign country for an undefined period of time."

"No way. You'd miss me before the plane touched down in Vegas."

Nick dropped the magazine on Greg's shit-eating grin and pulled all the covers to his side of the bed. "For the last time, I'm friggin' sorry about this morning!"

"But you never said why you were sorry. I think you were just saying sorry so I wouldn't be mad at you, not because I was right and you shouldn't have butted in and…"

"Whatever."

"So you're admitting I'm right about your comments being condescending and humiliating."

Nick snored instead of answering.

Deciding he had tormented his soulmate enough, Greg dove under the bedding and accepted the apology with a silent gesture.

"Yeah, you were right, G." Nick's eyes closed as a silly grin consumed his face. "I'd miss you."

Walking the halls of the lab, Langston wondered if things were still going to be chilly between Nick and Greg after yesterday's incident. He wasn't looking forward to walking on eggshells again. But when he peered into the office the young men shared, he saw they were grinning at each other and examining what appeared to be a tarantula.

"It's not my spider, dude." Nick announced, excited to share his discover with his best friend.

"You mean…that's Stevie?"

Nick nodded with pride.

"He's been lost for years." Greg inspected the much beloved critter. "I'll have to tell Sara so she can tell her…"

"Husband," Nick chuckled. It was still hard to believe Grissom was married.

"Hey, Nicky," Catherine's voice ended the laughter. "Can I see you for a minute?"

Still buzzing from the romantic afternoon he had shared with Greg and the ever-strengthening feelings between them, Nick lingered for a moment just to smile at his best-friend and lover. "Yeah."

Watching Nick reluctantly tearing his eyes off Greg, Langston knew once and for all his suspicions were correct. Even though he was happy for them, the man who cherished privacy would keep the revelation to himself, for he had learned years ago that some things were just better left unsaid.

Catherine thought about asking how Greg would take the news of the promotion, but deciding it wasn't her business, she opted to not to. Instead she initiated Nick into the world of management the same way Grissom had welcomed her - by handing over a pile of paperwork that had to be completed ASAP.

"Thanks, Cath." Nick walked out of the office wondering how he would break the news to Greg. Suddenly scared that the news might change things between them, he decided to stay silent for a while.

"I gave him another cricket," Greg excitedly announced when Nick returned with a stack of files. "He gobbled it down." Grinning at his partner, he whispered, "Maybe if raising a tarantula together goes well, we can get a puppy."

"Uh." Nick dropped the files on his desk. "I don't think that's a good idea, G. A puppy's a big deal."

Disappointed that his supposed life-partner didn't want the same level of commitment, Greg's smile faded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"What I mean is, we can't leave a puppy at home alone all night." Nick flashed a loving smile at his deflated mate. "We should adopt a dog instead. Maybe two, so they'd have each other while we're at work."

"Seriously?" Greg's eyes lit up. Then he remembered he was broke. "Wait…can we afford two dogs? Vet bills are…"

"I think we can swing it." Knowing the assistant supervisor job came with a nice little pay raise, Nick nodded. "Yeah."

"Cool."

Wishing they could continue planning their future, Nick reluctantly said, "We'll have to talk about it later though, 'cause Catherine just dropped a load of paperwork on me and she wants me to have it done ASAP."

"That's not whining I hear, is it?" Greg teased, "Nick Stokes would never whine about his supervisor giving him a crappy assignment, would he? I mean…he knows better than that."

Nick hid his grin behind a case file and practiced his supervisory tone for the first time. "When I want your opinion, Sanders, I'll ask for it."

The End

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