Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Title: Ornithology
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Category: humor, romance
Rating:FRT
Warnings/spoilers: none
Summary: Greg wants to be a red-tailed hawk
A/N: This is what happens when I try to avoid writing other stories by
spending too long looking at my copy of "The Sibley Guide to Birds."
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Nick shook his head slowly. "Greg," he said under his breath, "this
is nothing to get worked up about."
"Fine," Greg said, rolling over. "Let's just go to sleep."
"Look, you asked."
"I know. It's just�" Greg sighed as he rolled back over. "Why does
Warrick get to be a red-tailed hawk?"
"Greg, I told you�"
Greg propped himself up on his elbow. "OK, OK, so it's, like, the
coolest bird with the coolest call. I get that. But, you know, I
could be a raptor."
Nick looked up at him.
"A small one," Greg said defensively. "Like, a..a, uh, what's that
bird that we watched that show about?"
"Merlins." Nick rolled his eyes.
"Right. Why can't I be a merlin?"
"You're not a merlin, Greg. They're tiny and they're aggressive.
Sara might be a merlin, but you're not."
Greg gasped. "So, what? You think Sara's cooler than me?"
"I think Sara's tinier and more aggressive than you."
"I can't believe Warrick and Sara both get to be raptors and I don't."
"Actually, I think of Sara more as a swan."
Greg knitted his eyebrows together. "Are you being metaphorical?"
"No, Greg, I'm being literal. Sara's an actual swan, with a beak and
feathers and everything."
"I know you were being metaphorical, I just wondered how metaphorical.
Like, is it because of the whole 'Ugly Duckling' thing or�"
"Swans are beautiful," Nick said simply. "They're graceful and
refined. But they're also really intense. They're curious about
everything, always sticking their beaks into things trying to figure
them out. Plus, if you get too close they have no reservations about
biting you."
Greg nodded. "So Sara's a swan. I still don't see why I can't be�"
"You're just not a raptor, Greg. It's not a bad thing."
"Yeah, but I don't see why I have to be a�"
"Greg, you asked me what bird you reminded me of. I told you. Can we
please just let it go?"
Greg flopped down onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Fine."
Nick sighed and closed his eyes, though he knew the conversation was
far from over.
"What's Catherine?" Greg asked after a while.
"Greg�"
"I'm just curious. What's Catherine?"
"Woodpecker."
Greg laughed. "That sounds dirty."
Nick shot him a look.
"What?"
"It's not intended to be dirty. Woodpeckers are tenacious. They
never give up."
Greg shrugged. "And Grissom?"
"Graylag goose."
Greg laughed again. "Grissom's a goose?"
"They're very smart birds. Plus, you know�" Nick flushed a little bit.
"What?"
"They waddle when they walk."
Greg snorted. "OK. So at least I'm not a goose. But, come on. A
whooping crane? There's nothing sexy about a whooping crane."
Nick rolled his eyes. "I didn't know sex appeal was supposed to be a
factor."
"I'm your boyfriend. You're supposed to look at me and think golden
eagle, peregrine falcon, great horned owl�"
"You're not an owl."
"I could be an owl. I'm nocturnal."
"You're not an owl. Look, whooping cranes are gorgeous, they have
breathtaking mating dances, and they're extremely rare."
Greg pursed his lips but didn't say anything.
"There are less than 200 of them in the entire world. They're
extremely social, they're the tallest of all North American birds,
they have a seven-foot wingspan, not to mention that cranes are
considered sacred in many parts of the world. They're a very
important bird. More important than a red tailed hawk or great horned
owl."
"Keep talking."
"They mate for life. And when a whooping crane wants to mate, it
struts around, ruffles its feathers, stomps its feet to get the
attention of another crane, and then the two birds dance side by side
and sing a duet."
"So you're saying whooping cranes are the flirts of the bird world?"
"Huge flirts. Plus," Nick reached out and slid his hand down Greg's
thigh, "they've got really long legs," he leaned to kiss Greg's
throat, "really long necks�"
"So whooping cranes are sexier than red-tailed hawks."
Nick grinned against Greg's neck. "Much sexier," he said.
"OK. We're whooping cranes. I can dig that."
"Actually, I've always thought of myself as more of a house wren kind
of guy. You know, kind of plain and shy, but with a nice voice."
"Mmm, well you do have a nice voice, but you're definitely not plain.
Besides, you said that whooping cranes do their dance to attract the
attention of another whooping crane. I most certainly didn't dance
around hoping to catch the attention of a house wren."
"They're just metaphors, Greg. We don't have to be the same kind of
bird."
"Hush. We're whooping cranes and that's that. Now, are we gonna
mate, or do I have to strut around and ruffle my feathers to get your
attention?"
Nick laughed, then kissed Greg softly. "No, you've already got my
attention, baby, no feather ruffling required."