Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Title: Not Even Poets (previously untitled)
Pairing: Nick/Greg pre-slash
Rating: FRT13
Category: pre-slash, friendship, angst, humor
Series: 2/?
Summary: Nick yawns. Greg teases. And then there's that locker again�
A/N: Because into every story, some darkness must fall.
--------------------------------
Greg sighed as he looked into his empty locker. Mandy had called him on his
cell phone
around two to let him know that there hadn't been a single print on the
shoes�just
smudges that suggested the prankster had been wearing latex gloves.
He was back to where he'd been that morning�with no CDs, no Docs, and no leads.
Added to that was the fact that Nick had finally asked him to hang out after
work and he'd
been exhausted and grumpy and pretty much a terrible date. Not that it had been
a date,
but he couldn't even pretend that he'd charmed Nick just a little bit because he
knew he'd
been lousy company.
He sighed again and hung his coat up in his locker. He closed it, not caring
that he hadn't
yet been issued a new lock. Whoever had it out for him was obviously able to
pick locks,
so a new lock probably wouldn't be any more of a deterrent than the first one
had been.
He couldn't even remember what he and Nick had talked about over their beers.
He'd
been so tired he was running on auto-pilot. He probably should have declined
Nick's
offer, but he'd been waiting for it for so long and he didn't know when he'd
ever get
another chance. Probably never, since he was pretty sure his inability to
remember their
conversation meant it had been exceptionally boring.
What was he supposed to do? Explain to Nick exactly why that shirt was so
important to
him? Tell him why those Docs meant so much?
<<You see, Nick, I was wearing that shirt the first time another boy kissed me,
the same
guy who helped me pick out those Docs years later when we were seniors in high
school,
back when we thought we'd be together forever. Back before I'd even heard of
osteosarcoma. And maybe it's a little lame, but when I'm lonely I wear that
shirt and I put
on those Docs and I remember how happy we were and it doesn't hurt as much to
know I'll
never see him again because we made the most of what little time we did have.>>
No, he didn't think that was exactly the sort of thing Nick wanted to hear, and
it was
definitely not something he wanted to say. He liked that no one expected him to
be
serious. It made it easier to move through his life, making everyone laugh to
distract
himself and them away from anything that hurt.
"Hey, Cyrus," he said as he passed one of the cleaning staff. "What's up?"
"Heard your car got CheezWhizzed," Cyrus said. "That's gotta suck."
"Nah," Greg said, flashing a smile he knew looked real. "I got jar of salsa,
some tortilla
chips, made some nachos. They were pretty good."
Cyrus laughed and shook his head. "You gunning for whoever did it?"
Greg shrugged. "Nah. It was just a joke." <<And I'm going to hang whoever did
it up by
their toenails when I find out who they are.>>
It seemed the entire night shift knew about the pranks, since as soon as he
walked into
the break room, it went silent.
"Why do I get the feeling you were just talking about me?" he asked Sara and
Catherine as
he passed them to get to the coffee maker.
"We weren't," Sara said quickly. "I mean, we were just�are you OK?"
He grinned at her and rolled his eyes. "I think I'll survive," he said.
"I heard I was the prime suspect for a while there," came a voice from the
corner of the
room. Greg turned to see Travis sipping a cup of coffee while thumbing through
a book.
"You were?" Sara asked. She looked at Greg. "He was?"
"Apparently, my thumbprint was recovered from the super glued lock," Travis
said. His
eyes sparkled as he grinned at Greg. "But I was eliminated since I was off
yesterday."
"You fingerprinted the lock?" Catherine asked with a bemused smile.
"Nick supervised," Greg said with an easy shrug. He poured himself a cup of
coffee and
winced after taking a sip. Not only was it the generic brand the city provided,
it was weak.
He drank it anyway, since he needed the caffeine.
"So who do you think did it?" Sara asked.
"I don't know," Greg said. "I'll probably find out eventually. It's not like
it's a big deal."
"It's not driving you crazy?" she asked. "It would be driving me crazy."
"You didn't get any prints off the shoes?" Travis asked.
Greg shook his head. "Just smudges. Mandy thinks whoever did it was wearing
gloves."
"Well, whoever it was," Travis said as he stood up, "he was pretty stupid to
prank a CSI."
"Technically, I'm still a trainee," Greg said.
Travis shrugged. "Close enough. Playing pranks on someone whose job it is to
solve
mysteries? Not a smart move." He set his mug in the sink. "Toxicology calls,"
he said
with a sigh. "Ladies, Greg," he tipped his head at them before he left the
break room.
"He is so cute," Catherine whispered to Sara after Travis was gone.
"Gay," Sara said.
Catherine looked over at her sharply. "Bitter because he hasn't hit on you?"
"No. I can just tell."
Greg snorted.
"What?" Sara asked. "I've got good gaydar."
"I'm sure you do," he said. Travis set off his gaydar, too, but he wasn't about
to tell her
that. He took a seat across from her and took another sip of the weak, generic
coffee.
Warrick ambled in a few minutes later, followed by Grissom, who was sorting
through the
slips of paper in his hand.
Grissom looked around the room. "Where's Nick?"
"Right here, boss," Nick said, breathless as he hurried through the door.
"Sorry, but I
didn't have a change of clothes in my truck so I had to run home and it took
more time
than I�" He stopped talking suddenly and a flush crept up his neck. "Uh, sorry
I'm late."
Greg and Catherine exchanged knowing smirks.
Grissom didn't seem to notice, or care. "You're out on West Timber Way," he
said, handing
Nick a slip of paper. "Take Greg with you."
Greg tried not to show how stoked he was about getting out into the field,
especially with
Nick. "What do we got?" he asked as coolly as he could as Grissom handed out
the rest of
the assignments.
"B and E," Nick said. "Give me five minutes and I'll meet you at the car."
"Hot date, huh?" Greg asked as they headed into the hall.
Nick just smiled that easy, dimpled smile that made Greg's stomach flip.
"You know, if you had a date you could have just told me. The beer could have
waited."
"It wasn't really a�" Nick's smile was embarrassed, then. "It was just�"
"Booty call, huh?" Greg waggled his eyebrows.
"Get your kit, Sanders," Nick said, and though his tone was stern Greg could see
the smile
teasing at the corners of his mouth.
Greg grabbed his jacket out of his unlocked locker and retrieved his evidence
kit, checking
to make sure he had everything he needed in it. He met Nick out at the Tahoe a
few
minutes later.
"How you doing?" Nick asked softly as he started the engine.
"Fine," Greg said. "Why?"
"You just seemed pretty upset this morning."
Sometimes Greg wondered if it was a bad thing that he could smile so easily when
he felt
like so much shit. "I was just tired."
Nick glanced at him for a moment, and Greg got the feeling he wasn't buying it.
"It's just a joke. I'm sure whoever did it will give me my stuff back
eventually."
"We'll find who did it," Nick said firmly. He reached out and touched Greg's
arm. "Don't
worry about it, OK? We won't give up until we get your stuff back."
And Greg knew it wasn't really about him. He knew Nick had a hero complex to
rival Clark
Kent's and he'd be just as determined to help anybody else, but it felt nice to
be on the
receiving end of Nick's optimistic resolve. When Nick said it, Greg actually
believed that
everything would be all right, and by the time they got to the scene he felt
better than he
had in days. Nick had said he wouldn't give up, and Greg knew he was a man of
his word.
Everything would be just fine.
The scene was basic, jewelry and electronics stolen from a house in the suburbs.
Some
sick part of Greg wished there'd been a 419 just so he could get the experience.
As it was,
he fingerprinted and Nick took photos and collected trace evidence, and within a
couple
hours they'd done everything they could.
"You think we'll find them?" Greg asked as they packed up their kits.
Nick cast a wary glance at the homeowners who were watching them from the next
room.
"We'll figure it out," Nick said with a nod. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.
Greg thought it
was cute; it made him look like a little kid. "Sorry, man," he said. "I didn't
get much
sleep."
"Oh, sure," Greg said as he picked up his kit and followed Nick out of the house
and down
the sidewalk past the yellow crime scene tape. "Just brag about it, why don't
you?"
"I wasn't br�" Nick shook his head and met Greg's teasing look. "Very funny."
"So, you gonna share details or what?"
"Come on, man," Nick said. "I don't kiss and tell."
Greg shrugged. He had to respect that. "So what was with all the secrecy
inside?"
"They weren't robbed," Nick said. "I can't prove it yet, but my gut tells me
it's an insurance
scam."
"Yeah?" Greg asked eagerly. He wondered what Nick had seen to make him think
that,
wondered what he himself hadn't noticed.
"It was too perfect," Nick said, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "And did
you see the
glass on the back door?"
"Where it was broken so the burglar could get in?"
Nick nodded. "I'm going to have to look at a fragment under the 'scope to make
sure, but
the way it was fractured looked like it had been broken from the inside."
"But the glass shards were on the inside, too."
"They could have seen their mistake after breaking the glass, swept it up and
put it inside
to make it look like it had been broken from the outside. We'll know for sure
once we can
get a good look at the conchoidal fractures." He yawned again, covering his
mouth with
his hand.
Greg smirked. "Blonde or brunette?"
Nick gave him a sidelong glance as he opened the back of the Tahoe and stowed
his gear.
"Redhead?" Greg ventured.
"Blonde," Nick said.
"Eyes?"
"Blue."
"Hot?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
Greg grinned and leaned against the side of the Tahoe. Of course she was hot.
He
couldn't imagine Nick dating anyone who wasn't. He was just about to ask what
she did
for a living when he remembered something Nick had said earlier.
<<Trust me, I would have noticed if he was around.>>
Why would Nick have noticed if Travis was around? Why was he so quick to rule
him out
as a prank suspect? Why did he know where Travis' locker was? It was right
next to
Greg's, and Greg hadn't even known that.
<<Trust me, I would have noticed�>>
Travis was hot. And blonde. And he had blue eyes.
"I've got a question," Greg said, tipping his head to the side. "How'd Travis
know so much
about the pranks?"
"What do you mean?" Nick asked, but Greg could see the flush rising on his neck.
"I mean he knew more about it than Sara and Catherine did."
"Greg, I know you want to catch whoever did this, but it wasn't Travis."
"Oh, I know," Greg said. "I was just wondering when you got the chance to give
him all the
details."
"I�I didn't tell him anything," Nick said, frowning as he put the ALS back in
its case.
"He knew I found his print on my lock. Nobody else knew that detail. Except
you."
"Mandy knew," Nick said. "She probably told him."
"I thought about that, but he didn't know that there weren't any prints on the
shoes, which
he would have known if she'd been the one to tell him. That brings it back to
you."
Nick shrugged. "It wasn't me. Not that it's a big deal, it just wasn't me,
that's all. Why do
you even care how much he knows?" He was trying to play it cool, but he was
obviously
flustered.
Greg could barely contain his smirk. "I just didn't know the two of you hung
out, that's
all."
"We don't�" Nick sighed. "We watch the game sometimes. Is that a crime?"
"Nope," Greg said, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment before walking
around
to the passenger side of Nick's Tahoe. He climbed in and fastened his seat
belt. Nick and
Travis. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. It was so obvious.
Nick was silent as he got into the Tahoe and started it up. He was silent as he
pulled onto
the street and drove, but his jaw was set tight and Greg could tell he wasn't
happy. Maybe
it would have been kinder just to tell him that it wasn't a big deal, that he
didn't care, but
Greg couldn't help enjoying the fact that he made Nick a little nervous.
**********
Sanders knew. Nick had been so careful his entire life, but Sanders knew.
Which meant
the rest of the lab would know in, oh, about five minutes. He clenched his jaw
and
swallowed hard as he tried to fight the wave of nausea in his gut. His heart
was pounding
and his skin was cold and clammy. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath.
<<This is no time for panic, Stokes. Think. Just think. You can get through
this. You've
been through worse, and that time the rumors weren't even true.>>
He took in a slow breath. Of course. That was it. They were just rumors. Not
that he
really wanted anybody gossiping about him, but rumors were just rumors. He knew
he
was good enough at hiding his sexuality that most people wouldn't even believe
it when
Greg told them. He'd just deny it. He was the ladies' man, after all. He'd
spent a lot of
time making sure people thought his bedroom had a revolving door, that he'd
never
settled down with one woman because there were just too many to choose from.
He'd be
fine. Nobody'd believe Greg, anyway, would they?
Nick had a sinking feeling they would. And if enough people believed it, if the
wrong
people believed it, the results could be devastating.
They were getting close to the lab, and Greg was percolating in his seat. He
probably
couldn't wait to spill to everybody he knew. Nick wondered who he'd tell first.
Jacqui,
maybe? Archie? He and Sara had been getting close, lately, maybe he'd run to
her first.
His heart wouldn't stop pounding. He was going to have a heart attack. He was
in his
mid-30's, in prime physical condition, and he was going to die of a heart
attack.
Suddenly, he hit the breaks and turned the Tahoe into an empty parking lot, then
slammed
the transmission into park.
"What the�?" Greg asked.
"Look, Sanders," Nick said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I know this
is probably
really funny to you, but we're talking about my life here."
In the sulfur yellow light of the parking lot, he could see Greg's confused
expression.
"What?"
"Las Vegas is a conservative town," Nick said. "A lot more conservative than
its reputation
as 'Sin City' would lead most people to believe. You know that. You know how
conservative the PD is."
"Yeah, I�"
"And I can just see how much you're dying to spread it around about me and
Travis, but
I'm asking you, please, don't say anything."
Greg just stared at him.
"Because even if you think you're just telling one person, they'll tell somebody
else and by
the end of shift I could be out of a job."
"God," Greg said softly. "Do you really think that little of me?"
Now it was Nick's turn to be confused.
"I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't do that."
"You've barely been able to keep still since you figured it out."
"Sorry," Greg said sarcastically. "You can't blame me for being a little amped
up, here. I
mean, this is huge."
"Greg, it's not�"
"I mean, I've known about Bobby for years, and I pretty much had Travis figured
out the
first day I met him, but you? That's the shitty thing about the closet, you
know? I mean,
yeah, of course we have to keep it quiet at work, but it's so isolating."
"Wait," Nick said, "you said 'we.' You said, 'we have to keep it quiet.' Who's
we?"
"You, me, Bobby, Travis," Greg said, ticking the names off on his fingers.
"There are
probably more, but it's hard to know since none of us ever talk about it. I
have my
suspicions about David, to tell you the truth."
Nick frowned. "David Hodges or David Phillips?"
"Phillips. Well, Hodges, too, but that's really something I'd rather not think
about."
Nick winced. He didn't want to think about Hodges having sex with anybody,
either�male
or female. "Wait," he said. "You?"
Greg nodded. "Me."
"But you�you're always flirting with Sara."
"Hey, you're the one with the reputation for banging every hot babe in the
greater Las
Vegas area."
Nick laughed. He could literally feel the tension leaving him. "You. You're
gay."
"For about sixteen, seventeen years now," Greg said. "Well, probably since
conception, but
that's how long I've known."
"Why didn't I know?" Nick asked. "Damnit. I have no gaydar. They say we're
just
supposed to have it, but I don't. I can never tell. Hell, I didn't know about
Travis until his
tongue was in my mouth."
Greg smirked. "Oh, really?"
Nick flushed and looked away from him.
"So, how serious are you two? You heading to Canada any time soon?"
"What?" Nick asked, then he really did blush. "No," he said. "No. No way.
It's nothing
like that."
"What, then?" Greg asked, and Nick realized that he was taking pleasure in
Nick's
discomfort, which was both disturbing and reassuring, since Greg had always
enjoyed
teasing him. It made it feel more normal somehow.
"We're just�" Nick shrugged.
"Fuck buddies?" Greg offered.
"God," Nick whispered, shaking his head.
"Friends with benefits?"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call us friends," he said. He wondered if he could
make Greg
squirm. "It's not like we talk much when we're together."
Greg didn't squirm. He grinned, and Nick rolled his eyes and regretted saying
anything at
all.
"Luuuh-vahs?" Greg asked, drawing the word out in an obvious attempt to make
Nick
blush.
"That's it," Nick said, putting the Tahoe into drive. "We're not talking about
this anymore."
"Paramours?" Greg suggested as Nick pulled back onto the darkened city street.
"Jesus Christ," Nick muttered.
Greg smirked in the darkness. It wasn't until Nick had pulled into his parking
spot that he
said, "Companions?"
"Greg�"
Greg grinned and shrugged as he hopped out of the Tahoe. "Gentlemen friends?"
he
asked, following Nick towards the lab. "Beaus?"
And it was just his luck that Greg was a walking, talking thesaurus.
"Sweethearts," Greg said as they walked into the lab and Nick was really
starting to see the
humor in the pranks whomever had pulled on Greg the night before because, God,
he
could be annoying.
"Turtle�doves?" Greg's voice slowed, then stopped on an up note because he,
like Nick,
had noticed that the lab had gone quiet in waves as soon as they walked in.
"Um�"
"What's going on?" Nick asked the girl at the front desk whose name he could
never
remember.
She looked at him nervously and Nick got the impression that she was only
looking at him
so that she wouldn't have to look at Greg. "The, uh, locker room," she said
softly.
"Fucking hell," Greg grumbled, brushing past Nick and stalking down the hall.
"What
now?" he called out as he headed straight towards the locker room.
"More superglue?" Nick asked her. Her name was Teresa or Terry or Sherry, he
was almost
sure of it.
"Not exactly," she said. "I haven't seen it since Dr. Grissom isn't letting any
unauthorized
personnel in, but, uh�it's not good."
Nick turned and sprinted towards the locker room without even saying anything
else to
her. When he got there, there was crime scene tape across the door a little
above waist
high. He ducked beneath it and caught Sara's eye just as she advanced the film
in her
camera. Her lips were pursed and she looked tired. She turned away from him
and raised
the camera to take another picture.
Nick moved forward so he could see what she was photographing. He came up
behind
Greg and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder. He was about to ask what
was
going on when he saw Greg's locker. Scrawled down it in white letters was a
phrase Nick
had always been afraid of.
D
I
E
F
A
G
G
O
T
Nick felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He let out a slow breath and
tightened his grip
on Greg's shoulder for just a moment before letting go.
He saw Greg swallow hard, shift from foot to foot. "Yeah," Greg said in his
most casual
voice as he looked from Sara to Warrick to his locker, "this isn't really that
funny anymore."
