Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Ok, so I really wasn't going to, despite the vast amounts of slashiness they've been giving us lately. (I about died from the gay man/fat woman comment). The ending of that ep is just too good to resist...
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Title: Skin Deep
Author: Sam
Rating: FRT - fan rated for teens.
Pairing: Gil/Greg pre-slash
Warning: Not mine, not beta'd. Spellchecked and written in 20 minutes.
Blame Evan. ;-)
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Greg was sitting lost in thought, reading - or more accurately flipping - through a catalogue showcasing very scantily clad young woman in silk and lace when Grissom walked in. Though he didn't look up, Greg could tell his boss was favoring him with one of his amused, curious glances as he poured himself a cup of coffee. When Grissom didn't comment other than ask if he was doing research, Greg admitted he didn't get it.
The whole fat verses skinny thing.
Oh, he understood preference and kink - had more than a few of those himself - but not the fact that a woman had been willing to go to jail rather than want the world to know their vic's death had been an accident...
Eyes glazing over the pictures of �perfect� and �near perfect� models, Greg sighed, still feeling Grissom�s heavy stare on his back.
Well, only he did, really. Understand it. In a way. He just couldn't understand why some people - like their vic - would stoop to hurting someone he was willing to go to bed with by not being willing to be seen with them in public. All for the sake of physical appearance.
�What don�t you get, Greg?�
�This whole thing. If you love someone - if you even *like* someone - you should be proud to be seen with them.�
�Ah.� The satisfied sound was so Grissom he was surprised not to find any extra illumination for the light bulb going off over the boss� head. �But this wasn�t about love. It wasn�t even about like, necessarily.� He looked up a bit to find Grissom now standing at his shoulder, peering over him, lips twisted in a reproachful grimace at the models on the page. He shrugged one shoulder slightly. �Just sex. You don�t need like or love for that.�
Unable to stop himself, now Greg *did* look at him, twisting in his seat to face the older man head on. �How can you say that?�
Again that shrug only the sadness around his eyes spoke that the topic wasn�t nearly as abstract as he made it seem. �It�s the truth?�
Turning back to his catalogue, Greg felt something inside him tire at the sheer pragmatism of that statement. Just because something was true...�Maybe. But just because something is true, doesn�t make it right.�
�No, it doesn�t.�
"I just - don�t get it.� Greg admitted, once more listlessly flipping through the glossy pages. �I mean, I like to think I'm pretty open minded. I'm interested in other people's predilections. Open to other possibilities...� Suddenly realizing he was giving way too much away, he stopped. Hoping to hide his blush by staring at the table in front of him, he asked Grissom lightly, �So what about you? What gets your juices flowing?�
There was silence for long moments after that. A silence in which Greg could only hear the sound of his own heartbeat, thumping at a hundred beats a second. Ok - that? Was not better.
Of all the things he could have asked, it had to be that? What got his boss�s *juices flowing*? Could he have been any more obvious? The flippant admission of the kinkier side of his dreams while being crushed under 280 pounds of manikin hadn�t been enough? Admitting he dreamed about Grissom watching him in bed wasn�t bad enough? He had to ask what got Gil Grissom off. He was just about relieved thinking that Grissom had taken it as one of his offhanded rambles and decided not to answer when the silence was broken by the quiet reply.
"Someone who doesn't judge me."
And Grissom left the room.
Oh. OH. It would seem he wasn�t the only one giving things away these days.
�Hey Grissom?� Thanking god that the last two remaining brain cells he had left were still working fast enough to call out - the others being way too frozen in mortified shock at what he had let slip and what he was about to - Greg waited as Grissom stilled in the middle of the hall. Waited until he turned around to tell Grissom what Grissom had told him when learning he was more interested in fieldwork than making money in the safe confines of the lab.
The inquiring eyebrow was the only expression in an otherwise carefully neutral face. Man but did he know how Grissom felt right now. Suddenly on solid ground despite the emotional fallout, he grinned. �That�s good to know.�
One, two, he watched as Grissom processed that. Watched as the guarded expression cracked in surprise, eyebrows shooting up, mouth falling open just so. That very brief dear in the headlights look that softened into something a little like hope. Finally settling into that little pleased Grissom smile as their eyes met and connected.
The curly gray head tilted once, Grissom agreeing, �Isn�t it?�, before turning. Resuming his walk, Grissom reached his office, opened the door and disappeared inside.
But not before favoring Greg with one last speculative glance.
Inside the breakroom, Greg Sanders threw the catalogue in the trash, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile. After all, who needed half naked, skinny women when he had a middle aged man, complete with slightly spreading paunch, too short graying hair and glasses in his dreams?
No, beauty was definitely NOT skin deep.
Sam
The Eternally Scattermused
And proud member of the BBO!!