Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Author: April May
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: FRT
Status: Complete
Archive: To the Greg Slash Archive, others please ask.
Feedback: [email protected]
Disclaimers: The characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS,
and no profit is being made with this story.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Nick and Greg have their own private New Year's Eve
party. Written for the New Year's Challenge at Greg Sanders
Slash.
Warnings: No smut in this one (sorry) but some unabashed
fluffy shmoopiness.
"What's going on here?" Greg asked, emerging out of our
bedroom, wearing a T-shirt and the red plaid flannel pajama pants
I had given him for Christmas and rubbing his still-sleepy eyes.
Peering into the seldom used dining room, where I had set up the
table with a white linen tablecloth, real china and silverware place
settings, and two tall, thin white candles in silver holders, he said,
confused, "I thought we were just going to order something from
the Chinese place."
Greg and I had both managed to get New Year's Eve off this
year, but we had decided that instead of going out to a club or
a party, we'd have a private "party of two" at our place. We both
had been putting in a lot of overtime lately trying to get as many
cases closed as possible before the end of the year - Greg
especially had been putting a lot of extra hours in trying to help
the day shift with their backlog - so neither one of us felt like
dressing up or being in a crowd.
(Warrick and Catherine, on the other hand, had managed to get
tickets to the America's Party concert that was being shown live
on the Fox network, while Sara and Grissom were doing what
they both did best - working.)
Shrugging, I said, "Well, it is New Year's Eve, and I wanted to do
something a little more...special. And I know you've been working
really hard lately, so I wanted to make you your favorite dinner -
so we're having a rack of lamb, green beans, wild rice, a caesar
salad, and for dessert..."
"Raspberry cheesecake?" he asked eagerly.
"Exactly," I said, smiling back at him. "With lots of whipped
cream."
"Speaking of which," he said with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.
"Do you think dinner could wait until later?"
With a fake put-upon sigh, I replied, "I had the feeling you'd say
that," and, after blowing out the candles, I let him lead me back
to the bedroom.
Some time later, after we had finally finished our dinner, we were
sitting on the living room couch watching TV. Or, to be more
accurate, I was trying to watch, while Greg kept clicking the remote.
At one point, he had the Fox show on, and we managed to get
a glimpse of Warrick and Catherine standing very close together -
he had his arm wrapped around her shoulders while she was
looking up at him, and they appeared to be so engrossed in each
other, they didn't even know they were on camera.
"Get a room, you two," Greg called out to the screen, and, turning
to me, said, "You know, this would make excellent blackmail
material."
"That's why I'm taping it on the other set," I replied, and he
high-fived me.
Just before midnight, I went out to the kitchen to open a bottle
of champagne for our New Year's toast while Greg continued
to watch the TV. When I was in there, I nervously fingered the
small black box that I had been hiding in my pocket all evening,
wondering, Is this such a good idea? What if he doesn't want
this?
As I was still considering this, I heard Greg calling from the
living room, "Come on, you're going to miss it," and, shoving the
box back in my pocket, I picked up the bottle and two glasses
and brought them out with me as I went back to him.
At the stroke of midnight, as the ball started to drop, and we
heard noisemakers and fireworks begin to go off outside, Greg
leaned in to kiss me, but I jumped off the couch, saying, "Wait.
There's something I want to do first."
Looking bewildered, Greg asked, "Now? What about our midnight
kiss?"
Smiling at his impatience, I said, "Believe me, we'll get to that.
But first, I just wanted to say that...well, we've been together for a
year and a half now, and...I know we've been through some rough
spots, but, still, I wouldn't trade what we have for anything and...
shit, this is harder than I thought it was going to be..." I broke off,
feeling tongue-tied and stupid as Greg continued to look at me
in confusion. Deciding to just get right to it, I took out the box,
showed it to him, and continued, "I realize we can't do this legally
yet, but..." I then got down on one knee, and said to my now quite
startled lover, "Greg Olaf Sanders, will you do me the honor of
being my...um...spouse...or partner or significant other, or
whatever you want to call yourself?" I opened the box, revealing
a pair of matching silver bands.
Suddenly looking a little choked up, Greg managed to get out,
"I will."
As the fireworks were still going off, I got back up, pulled him
close to me, and we gave each other a long, deep kiss. We
then put the rings on each other's left hand ring finger, kissed
again, then sank back down onto the couch, the TV long
forgotten.
Later, as he lay next to me, looking down at the ring on his
hand, Greg commented, "No offense, but this is a little more
conservative than my usual style. I was really kind of hoping
for a navel ring, or maybe even one for my nipple..."
With a grin, I said, "I was planning on saving that for our
anniversary."