FIC: One Good Man 12/?
Aug. 29th, 2004 08:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
geekwriter143.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregAuthor: geekwriter
Title: One Good Man 12/?
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Sorry this took a bit—I was kidnapped by a plot bunny that insisted I write it into a one-shot (tentatively titled "Scratch"), but I escaped long enough to finish Ch. 12
Greg opened one eye when he realized he wasn't dreaming the twang in his ears. He lifted his head up and could see Nick in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He didn't know exactly when Nick had started leaving his toothbrush; it had just appeared sometime in the weeks following their fight.
That's how Greg thought of it, as their fight, because he didn't want to think of it as the time Nick didn't have faith in him or the time he hurt Nick on purpose. Thinking of it as a fight made it easier to get over, because every couple fought and, as the toothbrush that just seemed to magically appear in his bathroom indicated, that's what they'd become—a couple.
The toothbrush had been a welcome addition. So had the clothes Nick had started leaving over, the drawer space Greg cleaned out for him, the box of artificial sugar packets that appeared next to Greg's raw sugar that they Did Not Talk About.
Not Talking was something they were good at in odd ways. They were totally honest when it came to what was going on between them, and their fight was something they just sort of talked around, but when it came to the past it became clear that Nick wasn't going to open up. Greg didn't know if the Not Talking was permanent or just until he earned Nick's trust. He didn't ask. It wasn't like it really mattered. He was pretty sure it didn't matter. Mostly sure, anyway.
The toothbrush had been welcome. The clothes had been welcome, even the fake sugar and healthy cereal and the soymilk in his fridge had been welcome. What wasn't welcome, however, was Nick's taste in music and the fact that he liked to listen to it when he woke up.
"Who's this?" Greg asked, his voice thick with sleep.
Nick turned and smiled around his toothbrush. "Garth Brooks, man," he said as if Greg should have known.
The name was familiar to him, but he couldn't tell Garth from Clint from Tim from Kenny. He thought maybe he should try to compromise with Johnny Cash. A guy who did Nine Inch Nails covers couldn't be all bad.
"It's killing you, isn't it?" Nick asked with a little smirk as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. And, damn, did the man ever know how to wear a pair of boxer briefs. His skin was warm when Greg reached out to stroke his thigh.
"What?" Greg feigned ignorance.
"The music. It's driving you crazy."
"No," Greg said too quickly. "It's just that I—" *hate* "—don't listen to much country."
"You can change it," Nick said, raking his fingers through Greg's messy hair.
"It's fine. It's kind of catchy." Which was true, since he'd realized with horror a few days earlier that as he processed evidence he'd been humming a song about fishing in the dark.
Nick laughed and reached for his CD case, dropped it on the bed next to Greg and got up to pull on his sweatpants. That was another thing Nick always wanted to do in the mornings—run. And, fine, so it was really late afternoon, not morning, but for all intents and purposes it was the same thing. Greg didn't know how anybody could want to work out right after waking up. It wasn't like surfing where you slept on the beach and got up at dawn to catch the best waves. There was nothing fun about running, and Greg tried his best to do it only when chased.
He flipped through Nick's CD case without expecting to find anything he knew, let alone liked. He paused on the second to last page, however, and looked up sharply. "You've been holding out on me," he said, sliding the CD from its sleeve.
Nick sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks. "Oh," he said, blushing a little when he saw the CD Greg had in his hand. "That's so old. I used to have it on tape, you know, and I saw it on CD so I just thought…it's kind of stupid."
Greg gaped at him. "Are you crazy? This right here is the pinnacle of your entire CD collection. This gives me hope that we may actually have a musical common ground." He quickly leaned over to stop the CD player and switched out Nick's country whoever that had been playing. He tossed it at Nick, put in the new CD, and grinned as he hit play.
Greg jumped up as the music started and threw the goat with both hands as Axl Rose started the haunting scream that began Guns N' Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle."
Nick laughed as Greg jumped up and down on the bed naked, banging his head to the beat. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to jump on the bed?" he asked as Greg flopped down, then propped himself up on one elbow.
"No. But she did teach me that the name Guns N' Roses is symbolic of the male's desire to penetrate the flesh of a woman's vagina, the rose, with his bullet-like dick, i.e. his gun."
Nick snorted. "Yeah. Never mind. Stupid question."
"Wanna know what she thought 'the jungle' actually signified?"
Nick leaned down to kiss him. "Definitely not."
Nick tasted minty. Greg was sure he had morning breath, but since Nick didn't seem to mind he wasn't going to bring it up.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked as Nick pulled away.
"For a run," Nick said, smoothing his hand over Greg's bed head.
"Uh-uh. Stay here with me."
Nick shot him an indulgent smile. "Some of us actually like to take care of our bodies."
Greg smiled back up at him. "I love taking care of your body. And I'm pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself."
Nick stroked Greg's hair one more time before standing up. "You're great at it," he said. "But I'm still going for a run."
Greg scowled and watched Nick as he pulled a t-shirt on.
"Now, you're sure you don't want to come wi—" Nick said as he turned around. He didn't have time to finish his sentence, however, before he caught just a flash of Greg out of the corner of his eye and the room suddenly spun at a crazy angle.
Nick's body tensed as he tried to figure out exactly how he'd gone from standing next to the closet to laying on his back across the foot of Greg's bed. With Greg on top of him, nonetheless.
"Did you just flip me?" he asked Greg, who was leaning over him so close their noses touched.
Greg smirked just before he leaned in for a kiss. "Told you I knew karate." He could feel Nick's laugh resonate against his lips.
"So, you're just gonna throw me on the bed every time you wanna have sex?" he asked as he grinned up into Greg's deep brown eyes.
"Well," Greg shrugged, "I will if you're into it." He slid one hand beneath Nick's t-shirt and began to stroke his stomach.
"Greg…" Nick said.
Greg just leaned to kiss Nick's neck, fastened his lips to that tender spot just where his jaw met his neck and when Nick whimpered and arched up against him he had to smile.
"You don't play fair," Nick murmured as Greg licked and nibbled his way down Nick's neck.
"Who's playing?" Greg asked as he pushed Nick's t-shirt up. He kissed his collarbones, his sternum, flicked his tongue against a nipple. "I'm extremely serious when it comes to taking care of your body."
He kissed Nick's stomach again, pressed his cheek against the firm muscles as his fingers smoothed and stroked Nick's skin. When he got to the waist of Nick's sweatpants, Nick lifted his hips to let Greg slide them and his boxer briefs down.
Then his lips were against Nick's cock, his tongue slipping between his lips to taste it and it was perfect, the heat of it as it fills his mouth, the way he could feel Nick's pulse against his tongue. He started slowly, applying light suction as he slid his taut lips up and down Nick's shaft. He loved the silky-soft hardness of it, the vein that lightening bolted along the side, Nick's fat cockhead that began to drip precum as he gripped the base in his hand and stroked in time with his mouth.
He kept one hand on Nick's cock, his fingers forming a tight "O" just below the ring of his lips. He used his other hand to stroke Nick's balls, squeeze them gently and pull ever so slightly, the way Nick liked. It got a gasp out of Nick and he started up a stream of words that sent a shiver down Greg's spine.
"That's it baby so good you suck me so good fuck I need you so good make me wanna god baby need to fuck that pretty mouth such a pretty mouth feels so good…"
He kept his hand on Nick's cock, stroking slowly as he slid his tongue down the shaft and began to lick Nick's balls, getting them slick with spit before he sucked one, then the other into his mouth. His tongue slid over them as he rolled them in his mouth, and he pulled his head up just a bit, just for that little bit of pressure that made Nick gasp again and arch his neck back and reach down to grip Greg's head in his hands.
He didn't mind it when Nick held his head, since he didn't try to guide him, just stroked his hair and caressed his face with urgent, trembling fingers.
"Need it baby you know what I want you know come on and need to feel that pretty mouth on me need to fuck your face baby come on and suck it suck me so good baby please…"
Greg let Nick's balls slide out of his mouth and nuzzled lower, pressed Nick's legs apart and when the tip of his tongue pressed hard against the smooth skin behind Nick's balls, Nick arched his head back and groaned and his fingers twisted painfully tight in Greg's hair. Greg didn't mind.
He felt Nick's hand on his wrist and looked up to see what the matter was. Nick tugged on his wrist and Greg slid up over him and Nick pulled Greg's hand to his mouth, wrapped his lips around Greg's index and middle fingers and slid them in and out, slicking them with his spit.
Greg grinned a smutty grin at him and reached down, placed his fingers against Nick's asshole and pressed slowly against it until Nick opened for him and he could slide inside. He dipped his head back down, took Nick's cock into his mouth once more and moaned at the salty-sour taste of precum that greeted him. He increased his pace, twisting his head as he bobbed up and down, letting his tongue swirl and slide and find all those places that make Nick shudder and gasp. He twisted his fingers slowly inside the velvet heat of Nick's ass, curled them forward and pressed his fingertips against the hard knot of Nick's prostate. He smiled around Nick's cock as Nick whimpered. Greg loved the desperate, vulnerable noises he could coax out of him.
He opened his mouth, breathed in against the back of his throat as he flattened his tongue, and then he was sliding even further down Nick's cock, sliding until his nose was nestled against Nick's public hair, until he could feel the head of Nick's cock in his throat. He held it there, swallowed once, twice, pulled up and applied pressure and suction with his lips again as Nick's fingers clawed desperately at his shoulders.
"Oh, God," Nick gasped as Greg took him into his throat again. "Oh, fuck." He couldn't do anything but shudder, grip Greg's shoulders, press his head back hard into the mattress. When he felt Greg's throat muscles constrict around the head of his cock again as he swallowed, when at the same time Greg's fingers were sliding in and out of him massaging his prostate with every stroke, he let out one final groan and his body tensed and he squeezed Greg's shoulder so tight when he came that he left a bruise.
Greg felt Nick's first pulse on his tongue first, felt it shoot down Nick's cock, over his lips, across his tongue, then finally down his throat. He held it like that for as long as he could, until he had to pull back and gasp for breath and as he did, the last of Nick's load splashed against his lips, his cheek, his chin.
"You got me," he said with a grin as he slid up Nick's body. Nick reached up and gripped the back of his head, pulled him down for a fierce kiss, lapping up his own cum with an eager tongue.
He lay his body over Nick's and all it took was Nick's obvious pleasure at sharing the taste of his cum and a few thrusts of his hips before he came between them, coating his and Nick's stomachs with salty cream.
Nick held him tight, so he just relaxed against Nick's body, kissed his sweat-slick neck, collapsed over him.
"Am I crushing you?" he asked softly a few minutes later.
Nick shook his head as he slid his fingers lazily through the hair at the back of Greg's head. "No. It feels nice."
Greg nodded, but eventually slid off him and stretched out to cool his body. "That's my idea of a good workout," he said, sliding his fingers through Nick's.
"Mmm," was Nick's only reply.
"You still gonna go for that run?"
Nick laughed softly. "No. Asshole."
"What did I do?" Greg asked innocently, trying not to grin.
"You know damn well you don't play fair."
"Hey, sex is great cardio," Greg told him. "Although, cum is kind of fattening."
Nick snorted and looked over at him. "Do I even want to know how you know that?"
"Well, you know, digestion is a chemical reaction. In college one of our labs was to figure out the average calories per gram of stuff like chocolate, grapes, olive oil, marshmallows…"
"So you used your cum as a sample?" Nick asked.
Greg shrugged. "Well, yes and no. It wasn't my cum, but I was the one to collect the sample and carry out the analysis."
"Do I wanna know whose cum it was?"
"My lab partner's." Greg sat up. "Jeremy Hiller. Blonde, blue eyes, corn-fed Iowa farm boy…" He sighed. "Yeah, that was a great lab." He gazed at nothing for a moment as if reliving a pleasant memory, then he turned and patted Nick's leg. "Race you to the shower."
"What do I get if I win?" Nick asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.
"You get to wash my back."
"And if I lose?"
Greg thought about that for a moment. "You still get to wash my back."
"Then wake me up in 20 minutes. And don't start without me."
Greg leaned down to kiss him gently. "I won't."
It took them nearly 45 minutes to shower since Nick couldn't keep his arms from around Greg's waist or his tongue out of Greg's mouth.
"What's with you?" Greg asked, thoroughly pleased at the whole situation and really not caring if they ended up late to work.
"Must be all the endorphins," Nick said, holding him tight beneath the shower's spray. "I'm crazy in love with you, you know," he whispered.
Greg's smile was the kind that spread across his entire face, making the skin beneath his eyes crinkle. "I love you, too."
Half a pot of coffee and a 30-minute drive later he was in the lab parking lot. He parked a few spots away from Nick's Tahoe and when he walked in and saw Nick talking to Warrick he greeted both of them as if he hadn't just seen Nick half an hour earlier.
He looked around for Grissom as he made his way to the lab, hoping to corner the man and talk him into letting Greg work a case. Any hopes he had of getting out into the field that night were quickly dashed when he saw the sheer volume of work that dayshift's craptacular new tech had left for him.
"God," Greg sighed as he surveyed the list of evidence he had to process, "am I the only one who works around here?"
"Yes." Hodges' dry voice said from behind him. He passed Greg, sipping a cup of coffee and holding a newspaper in the other hand. "You're the one that does all the work and the rest of us just ride your golden coattails."
Greg shook his head and rolled his eyes, biting back the urge to return Hodge's insult with one of his own. If he was going to be trapped in the lab all night, the last thing he needed was to start a fight.
"Nothing to it but to do it," he said to himself as he slipped his blue lab coat on and reached for the box of latex gloves. Hopefully he could get most of it done before nightshift started bringing him their evidence to process.
His hopes were once again unfounded, however, when twenty minutes into shift one of the coroner's assistants came in bearing blood samples, fingernail clippings, and trace hairs removed from the body.
"Jesus," Jacqui said as she leaned against the door a few hours later. "I never thought it would happen, but it has."
Greg looked up from his microscope quickly. The sugar rumors had died down eventually, but he could feel Hodges staring at him sometimes like he knew something he wasn't supposed to know. He and Nick kept their distance at work, but when he saw Jacqui's smug expression he couldn't help but wonder if she'd figured it out. "What?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.
"You," she said, "listening to music I actually like."
He grinned. "Yeah. GN'R, man, they're classic. It's Ni—" he cut himself off and coughed. "Uh, it's new. The CD, I mean. I used to have it on tape."
"You and me both," Jacqui said with a sigh. "I can't listen to 'Patience' without wanting to raise a lighter in the air."
He smiled at her. "Please don't. Everything I got from Warrick is covered in cyanoacrylate, and while it's dry and probably not giving off fumes, I'm not so much into taking chances anymore."
Jacqui frowned and came further into the lab. "Super glue? Nobody told me. I've been sitting over there with nothing to do for half an hour."
"I don't think Warrick was the one to fume it," Greg said. "He wanted me to run trace on it to see what the coating was."
Jacqui pushed Greg away from the microscope and looked down at the ballpoint pen he'd been inspecting. "I see ridge detail."
"Yeah. I was just about to let you know."
"At least three partials. They're tiny, but if it's the same print I'm sure I can match them up," she said as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves and gently took the pen off the microscope's stage.
Greg grinned as he watched her head back to her own lab, muttering to herself as she looked at the pen. He loved how focused she got when she was on the chase. Sometimes he wished he could be as satisfied in the lab as all the other techs seemed to be, especially on nights when he had nothing but routine analysis from start to finish.
He took his gloves off and tossed them in the trash, rubbed the back of his neck as he pushed his rolling chair over to the table of evidence that was quickly starting to overflow. He pulled on a new pair of gloves and reached for a manila envelope labeled in Sara's chicken scratch.
Inside were several tubes containing cotton swabs of blood. He yawned as he spread them out on his counter and slid his chair over to another counter where he retrieved a sterile pair of scissors and a test tube stand.
"Hey, G," Nick said from behind him. "What do you have for me?"
Greg set the scissors and stand next to Sara's samples and propelled his chair over to the cabinet where he kept the proteinase K. "Nothing yet," he said, sliding back over to his main workstation. He looked up at Nick and smiled. His brain was fried and it was nice to see Nick. He rarely came into the lab anymore, especially when Hodges was working just down the hall. "Haven't even looked at it yet."
"I gave you those samples three hours ago!"
Greg was silent for a long moment. He was used to CSIs insisting that their case had to be his priority, but they didn't usually yell at him. Nick had never yelled at him before. "I'm backed up," he said. "Your case is next in line, but I have to get these swabs replicating first."
"Screw those swabs," Nick snapped. He snatched them up off the counter without even bothering to put on a pair of gloves.
"Hey," Greg cried, reaching out for them. "Don't, you'll break the chain of possession or, worse, contaminate them."
Nick tossed the tubes onto the evidence table and grabbed a bundle wrapped in druggist's paper. "You'll do it now," he snapped. "Don't take a break until you've got the results."
Greg raised his eyebrows as Nick stalked out of the lab. Normally he would have put the bundle back and retrieved the swabs from Sara's case, continuing in the first come first served order that was standard protocol. There'd been something in Nick's eyes however, an edge to his voice that Greg hadn't ever heard before.
"What was that?" Jacqui asked, scuttling into the lab and looking over her shoulder to make sure that Nick was far enough down the hall not to hear her.
Greg sighed and shrugged, then used a scalpel to slit open the red tape that held the bundle closed. He spread the paper out on the counter first, then unfolded the pink t-shirt inside. "Map of Hawaii," he said.
"Huh?" Jacqui asked.
"Semen stain," Greg said. "One large island, smaller islands radiating outward."
"That's fucked up," Jacqui said. "You know I'm never going to be able to think about Hawaii again without that association."
"Oh, come on," he said as he reached for a packet of sterile swabs. "Maps of Hawaii aren't necessarily a bad thing."
She smirked. "You'd know. So, who is he?"
His eyes flickered up for a moment as he reached for a bottle of sterile water to moisten the end of the swab. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're obviously dating somebody new, and when it's a girl you can't shut up about it. Who's the new guy that's making you walk around with moony eyes all the time and sing country songs?"
Greg tried to suppress his smile. "You heard that, huh?"
"Oh, yeah."
"He's just a guy," he said as he rubbed the swab over the largest of the islands.
"Country music, Greg."
"Fine. He's a guy I really like," he said, smearing the sample across a microscope slide.
"Uh-huh. So, is it serious?"
"Don't you have a ballpoint to analyze?" He gently placed a thin square of glass over the sample and mounted the slide beneath the microscope lens.
"AFIS is running the print right now."
He looked up at her. "You work fast."
Jacqui smiled and shrugged. "I have a gift. What can I say? So, do I know him?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "Well, come on. You have to give me something Bobby and I can dish about."
Greg pretended to think for a moment. "Well, he's a little older than me—"
"How much older?"
"A few years. It's not like it's an April-September thing. He looks amazing in boxer briefs, and he's a talker."
Jacqui grinned. "I love talkers."
"You need a boyfriend."
"You wanna share yours?" she teased.
"He doesn't swing that way," Greg said. "Sorry. That enough to tide you and Bobby over for a while?"
"It'll do for today."
"And, hey," he said as she started to leave the lab. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "Not that you ever would, but try not to let Hodges find out about it, OK? He's been giving me the stink eye for weeks now, just waiting for something he can use against me."
Jacqui glanced in the direction of Hodges' lab. "Do you think he'd use you being bi against you?" she asked. "I mean, I always thought he was a little…gay."
Greg shuddered. "Oh, that's a visual I did not need. I don't know what he is and I don't care. You know he wants my job."
Jacqui rolled her eyes. "Like he's going to get it."
"I know, but he thinks he's better than I am and I don't want him being, well, himself if he finds out about me."
"Gotcha," Jacqui said. "Good luck with Hawaii."
"Good luck getting a hit off AFIS."
"It's not luck, kid," she said with a grin as she left the lab. "It's pure skill."
Greg looked down the 'scope and frowned. "Huh," he said as he looked at the sample.
He slid back over to the shirt, used a fresh blade to scrape a bit of crust off the edge of one the stains and placed it on a slide. He put a drop of water on it, waited a moment, then placed a slide cover over it. He switched out the slides and studied the second sample.
"That's funny," he said to himself as Sara walked into the lab.
"Where are my results?" she asked.
"Nowhere, yet. You're next in line." He slid his chair back over towards the shirt again and cut out a small sample of stained fabric with the scissors. He used a forceps to lift it and place it in a test tube.
"Greg, this case is important," she said as he immersed the sample in sterile water and slid it into the centrifuge.
"They're all important," he said as he set the centrifuge running.
"I'm serious, Greg. If you're going to just spend your shift goofing off—"
He looked up at her with a glance so sharp it made her stop in the middle of her sentence.
"What part of what I'm doing looks like goofing off to you?" he snapped. "Until I grow a second set of arms, I can only work so fast. Not to mention that I've got the overflow from dayshift, Covello took the time to come by and personally let me know that he's keeping an eye on my work involving the McGruder case, and Nick's been possessed by the spirit of Grissom on a bad day. You're next in line, that's the best I can do, and if you keep coming in here and interrupting me it's going to take even longer, so stop wasting my time and when I'm finished, I'll page you."
Sara raised her palms towards him as she backed towards the door. "OK. Don't need to chew my head off."
He frowned as he took another sample of the stain so that he could run a PCR. The centrifuge stopped whirring just as he'd finished treating the sample with the enzyme needed to break down its proteins.
He took the sample from the centrifuge, grabbed a test kit out of one of the cabinets, and measured out a bit of the sample liquid to place in the kit's receiving well. He watched as three vertical lines appeared in the test kit's window. "Very interesting," he said as he set it aside.
He processed the rest of the evidence from Nick's crime scene. There wasn't much: mouth swabs from three known donors, a single hair, and a smear of something red that definitely wasn't blood.
He'd gotten through Sara's blood samples, Catherine's fingernail scrapings, the stomach contents of a beetle Grissom had collected, and was just starting to make a dent in the dayshift overflow when Nick stormed into the lab.
"Hey," Greg said nervously. Nick was not in a good mood, he could feel it all the way across the lab. "I, uh, I paged you an hour ago."
"Just tell me what you've got," Nick said.
Greg suspected that it was definitely not the time to make a presentation. "Stains on the shirt didn't have any swimmers," he said. "But I ran a p30, they're definitely semen stains, just no sperm."
"God damn it!" Nick snapped, and Greg jumped back when he punched the counter.
"Uh…" Greg continued, watching Nick pace back and forth out of the corner of his eye. "Even without sperm I managed to get DNA from epithelials. It's a positive match to the first swab, uh," he looked down at his notes.
"Jacob Ellerson," Nick said.
Greg nodded. "Yeah. And there was a follicle tag on the hair, matches to swab number two—"
"Rebecca Post." Nick's voice was soft but it made Greg shiver. He didn't know anybody was capable of being that angry and that calm at the same time.
"Also, there was saliva mixed with the lipstick—that's what the red smear was, by the way—with enough epithelials to make a match, also to Rebecca Post."
Nick nodded, his shoulders slumped. Greg thought he looked defeated. "Nick," he whispered. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. "Are you all right?"
Nick took a deep breath and shook his head quickly, as if to clear it. "That bitch is going down," he hissed before turning on his heel and stalking away. Greg watched him get halfway down the hall before he remembered to close his mouth.
"What do you have for me?" Catherine asked brightly as she breezed into the lab.
Greg stared at the hall for a moment. He couldn't see Nick anymore, but he continued to watch where he'd been. Then he snapped his focus to Catherine. "Uh, which one was yours again?" he asked.
She blew out a quick puff of hair to brush a strand of hair off her face. "Scrapings, Greg. Dead girl found in a dumpster behind the Bellagio. Ring any bells?"
"Oh," Greg said. "Yeah. DNA under her nails is not hers and still unidentified. No match in CODIS."
Catherine sighed and frowned, then looked at him for a moment. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine," he said. "It's Nick I'm worried about." He regretted saying it for a moment, but then he figured that even if he and Nick had only been friends he still would have been worried about Nick's reaction.
Catherine wrinkled her nose, then pursed her lips. "I told Gris not to give him that case. You know how he is with child murder."
"I know how you all are with child murder," Greg said. "This is different. This was…I just told him that the semen sample didn't contain any sperm and he punched the desk."
Catherine's eyes went wide, but Greg suspected it wasn't because of Nick's reaction. The lack of sperm meant something, he just didn't know what. He'd thought it was interesting, but it wasn't like vasectomies were all that uncommon. "Oh, God," Catherine said, heading for the door. "Oh, Nicky."
And Greg wanted to call after her and ask what the hell was going on, but Grissom was heading down the hall with an intent look on his face and Greg knew he was coming to see if Greg had been able to get any human DNA out of his beetle's stomach.
He was halfway through his presentation to Grissom when it hit him; men with vasectomies weren't the only ones who produced semen without sperm. Pre-pubescent boys didn't produce sperm, either.
Title: One Good Man 12/?
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Sorry this took a bit—I was kidnapped by a plot bunny that insisted I write it into a one-shot (tentatively titled "Scratch"), but I escaped long enough to finish Ch. 12
Greg opened one eye when he realized he wasn't dreaming the twang in his ears. He lifted his head up and could see Nick in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He didn't know exactly when Nick had started leaving his toothbrush; it had just appeared sometime in the weeks following their fight.
That's how Greg thought of it, as their fight, because he didn't want to think of it as the time Nick didn't have faith in him or the time he hurt Nick on purpose. Thinking of it as a fight made it easier to get over, because every couple fought and, as the toothbrush that just seemed to magically appear in his bathroom indicated, that's what they'd become—a couple.
The toothbrush had been a welcome addition. So had the clothes Nick had started leaving over, the drawer space Greg cleaned out for him, the box of artificial sugar packets that appeared next to Greg's raw sugar that they Did Not Talk About.
Not Talking was something they were good at in odd ways. They were totally honest when it came to what was going on between them, and their fight was something they just sort of talked around, but when it came to the past it became clear that Nick wasn't going to open up. Greg didn't know if the Not Talking was permanent or just until he earned Nick's trust. He didn't ask. It wasn't like it really mattered. He was pretty sure it didn't matter. Mostly sure, anyway.
The toothbrush had been welcome. The clothes had been welcome, even the fake sugar and healthy cereal and the soymilk in his fridge had been welcome. What wasn't welcome, however, was Nick's taste in music and the fact that he liked to listen to it when he woke up.
"Who's this?" Greg asked, his voice thick with sleep.
Nick turned and smiled around his toothbrush. "Garth Brooks, man," he said as if Greg should have known.
The name was familiar to him, but he couldn't tell Garth from Clint from Tim from Kenny. He thought maybe he should try to compromise with Johnny Cash. A guy who did Nine Inch Nails covers couldn't be all bad.
"It's killing you, isn't it?" Nick asked with a little smirk as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. And, damn, did the man ever know how to wear a pair of boxer briefs. His skin was warm when Greg reached out to stroke his thigh.
"What?" Greg feigned ignorance.
"The music. It's driving you crazy."
"No," Greg said too quickly. "It's just that I—" *hate* "—don't listen to much country."
"You can change it," Nick said, raking his fingers through Greg's messy hair.
"It's fine. It's kind of catchy." Which was true, since he'd realized with horror a few days earlier that as he processed evidence he'd been humming a song about fishing in the dark.
Nick laughed and reached for his CD case, dropped it on the bed next to Greg and got up to pull on his sweatpants. That was another thing Nick always wanted to do in the mornings—run. And, fine, so it was really late afternoon, not morning, but for all intents and purposes it was the same thing. Greg didn't know how anybody could want to work out right after waking up. It wasn't like surfing where you slept on the beach and got up at dawn to catch the best waves. There was nothing fun about running, and Greg tried his best to do it only when chased.
He flipped through Nick's CD case without expecting to find anything he knew, let alone liked. He paused on the second to last page, however, and looked up sharply. "You've been holding out on me," he said, sliding the CD from its sleeve.
Nick sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks. "Oh," he said, blushing a little when he saw the CD Greg had in his hand. "That's so old. I used to have it on tape, you know, and I saw it on CD so I just thought…it's kind of stupid."
Greg gaped at him. "Are you crazy? This right here is the pinnacle of your entire CD collection. This gives me hope that we may actually have a musical common ground." He quickly leaned over to stop the CD player and switched out Nick's country whoever that had been playing. He tossed it at Nick, put in the new CD, and grinned as he hit play.
Greg jumped up as the music started and threw the goat with both hands as Axl Rose started the haunting scream that began Guns N' Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle."
Nick laughed as Greg jumped up and down on the bed naked, banging his head to the beat. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to jump on the bed?" he asked as Greg flopped down, then propped himself up on one elbow.
"No. But she did teach me that the name Guns N' Roses is symbolic of the male's desire to penetrate the flesh of a woman's vagina, the rose, with his bullet-like dick, i.e. his gun."
Nick snorted. "Yeah. Never mind. Stupid question."
"Wanna know what she thought 'the jungle' actually signified?"
Nick leaned down to kiss him. "Definitely not."
Nick tasted minty. Greg was sure he had morning breath, but since Nick didn't seem to mind he wasn't going to bring it up.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked as Nick pulled away.
"For a run," Nick said, smoothing his hand over Greg's bed head.
"Uh-uh. Stay here with me."
Nick shot him an indulgent smile. "Some of us actually like to take care of our bodies."
Greg smiled back up at him. "I love taking care of your body. And I'm pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself."
Nick stroked Greg's hair one more time before standing up. "You're great at it," he said. "But I'm still going for a run."
Greg scowled and watched Nick as he pulled a t-shirt on.
"Now, you're sure you don't want to come wi—" Nick said as he turned around. He didn't have time to finish his sentence, however, before he caught just a flash of Greg out of the corner of his eye and the room suddenly spun at a crazy angle.
Nick's body tensed as he tried to figure out exactly how he'd gone from standing next to the closet to laying on his back across the foot of Greg's bed. With Greg on top of him, nonetheless.
"Did you just flip me?" he asked Greg, who was leaning over him so close their noses touched.
Greg smirked just before he leaned in for a kiss. "Told you I knew karate." He could feel Nick's laugh resonate against his lips.
"So, you're just gonna throw me on the bed every time you wanna have sex?" he asked as he grinned up into Greg's deep brown eyes.
"Well," Greg shrugged, "I will if you're into it." He slid one hand beneath Nick's t-shirt and began to stroke his stomach.
"Greg…" Nick said.
Greg just leaned to kiss Nick's neck, fastened his lips to that tender spot just where his jaw met his neck and when Nick whimpered and arched up against him he had to smile.
"You don't play fair," Nick murmured as Greg licked and nibbled his way down Nick's neck.
"Who's playing?" Greg asked as he pushed Nick's t-shirt up. He kissed his collarbones, his sternum, flicked his tongue against a nipple. "I'm extremely serious when it comes to taking care of your body."
He kissed Nick's stomach again, pressed his cheek against the firm muscles as his fingers smoothed and stroked Nick's skin. When he got to the waist of Nick's sweatpants, Nick lifted his hips to let Greg slide them and his boxer briefs down.
Then his lips were against Nick's cock, his tongue slipping between his lips to taste it and it was perfect, the heat of it as it fills his mouth, the way he could feel Nick's pulse against his tongue. He started slowly, applying light suction as he slid his taut lips up and down Nick's shaft. He loved the silky-soft hardness of it, the vein that lightening bolted along the side, Nick's fat cockhead that began to drip precum as he gripped the base in his hand and stroked in time with his mouth.
He kept one hand on Nick's cock, his fingers forming a tight "O" just below the ring of his lips. He used his other hand to stroke Nick's balls, squeeze them gently and pull ever so slightly, the way Nick liked. It got a gasp out of Nick and he started up a stream of words that sent a shiver down Greg's spine.
"That's it baby so good you suck me so good fuck I need you so good make me wanna god baby need to fuck that pretty mouth such a pretty mouth feels so good…"
He kept his hand on Nick's cock, stroking slowly as he slid his tongue down the shaft and began to lick Nick's balls, getting them slick with spit before he sucked one, then the other into his mouth. His tongue slid over them as he rolled them in his mouth, and he pulled his head up just a bit, just for that little bit of pressure that made Nick gasp again and arch his neck back and reach down to grip Greg's head in his hands.
He didn't mind it when Nick held his head, since he didn't try to guide him, just stroked his hair and caressed his face with urgent, trembling fingers.
"Need it baby you know what I want you know come on and need to feel that pretty mouth on me need to fuck your face baby come on and suck it suck me so good baby please…"
Greg let Nick's balls slide out of his mouth and nuzzled lower, pressed Nick's legs apart and when the tip of his tongue pressed hard against the smooth skin behind Nick's balls, Nick arched his head back and groaned and his fingers twisted painfully tight in Greg's hair. Greg didn't mind.
He felt Nick's hand on his wrist and looked up to see what the matter was. Nick tugged on his wrist and Greg slid up over him and Nick pulled Greg's hand to his mouth, wrapped his lips around Greg's index and middle fingers and slid them in and out, slicking them with his spit.
Greg grinned a smutty grin at him and reached down, placed his fingers against Nick's asshole and pressed slowly against it until Nick opened for him and he could slide inside. He dipped his head back down, took Nick's cock into his mouth once more and moaned at the salty-sour taste of precum that greeted him. He increased his pace, twisting his head as he bobbed up and down, letting his tongue swirl and slide and find all those places that make Nick shudder and gasp. He twisted his fingers slowly inside the velvet heat of Nick's ass, curled them forward and pressed his fingertips against the hard knot of Nick's prostate. He smiled around Nick's cock as Nick whimpered. Greg loved the desperate, vulnerable noises he could coax out of him.
He opened his mouth, breathed in against the back of his throat as he flattened his tongue, and then he was sliding even further down Nick's cock, sliding until his nose was nestled against Nick's public hair, until he could feel the head of Nick's cock in his throat. He held it there, swallowed once, twice, pulled up and applied pressure and suction with his lips again as Nick's fingers clawed desperately at his shoulders.
"Oh, God," Nick gasped as Greg took him into his throat again. "Oh, fuck." He couldn't do anything but shudder, grip Greg's shoulders, press his head back hard into the mattress. When he felt Greg's throat muscles constrict around the head of his cock again as he swallowed, when at the same time Greg's fingers were sliding in and out of him massaging his prostate with every stroke, he let out one final groan and his body tensed and he squeezed Greg's shoulder so tight when he came that he left a bruise.
Greg felt Nick's first pulse on his tongue first, felt it shoot down Nick's cock, over his lips, across his tongue, then finally down his throat. He held it like that for as long as he could, until he had to pull back and gasp for breath and as he did, the last of Nick's load splashed against his lips, his cheek, his chin.
"You got me," he said with a grin as he slid up Nick's body. Nick reached up and gripped the back of his head, pulled him down for a fierce kiss, lapping up his own cum with an eager tongue.
He lay his body over Nick's and all it took was Nick's obvious pleasure at sharing the taste of his cum and a few thrusts of his hips before he came between them, coating his and Nick's stomachs with salty cream.
Nick held him tight, so he just relaxed against Nick's body, kissed his sweat-slick neck, collapsed over him.
"Am I crushing you?" he asked softly a few minutes later.
Nick shook his head as he slid his fingers lazily through the hair at the back of Greg's head. "No. It feels nice."
Greg nodded, but eventually slid off him and stretched out to cool his body. "That's my idea of a good workout," he said, sliding his fingers through Nick's.
"Mmm," was Nick's only reply.
"You still gonna go for that run?"
Nick laughed softly. "No. Asshole."
"What did I do?" Greg asked innocently, trying not to grin.
"You know damn well you don't play fair."
"Hey, sex is great cardio," Greg told him. "Although, cum is kind of fattening."
Nick snorted and looked over at him. "Do I even want to know how you know that?"
"Well, you know, digestion is a chemical reaction. In college one of our labs was to figure out the average calories per gram of stuff like chocolate, grapes, olive oil, marshmallows…"
"So you used your cum as a sample?" Nick asked.
Greg shrugged. "Well, yes and no. It wasn't my cum, but I was the one to collect the sample and carry out the analysis."
"Do I wanna know whose cum it was?"
"My lab partner's." Greg sat up. "Jeremy Hiller. Blonde, blue eyes, corn-fed Iowa farm boy…" He sighed. "Yeah, that was a great lab." He gazed at nothing for a moment as if reliving a pleasant memory, then he turned and patted Nick's leg. "Race you to the shower."
"What do I get if I win?" Nick asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.
"You get to wash my back."
"And if I lose?"
Greg thought about that for a moment. "You still get to wash my back."
"Then wake me up in 20 minutes. And don't start without me."
Greg leaned down to kiss him gently. "I won't."
It took them nearly 45 minutes to shower since Nick couldn't keep his arms from around Greg's waist or his tongue out of Greg's mouth.
"What's with you?" Greg asked, thoroughly pleased at the whole situation and really not caring if they ended up late to work.
"Must be all the endorphins," Nick said, holding him tight beneath the shower's spray. "I'm crazy in love with you, you know," he whispered.
Greg's smile was the kind that spread across his entire face, making the skin beneath his eyes crinkle. "I love you, too."
Half a pot of coffee and a 30-minute drive later he was in the lab parking lot. He parked a few spots away from Nick's Tahoe and when he walked in and saw Nick talking to Warrick he greeted both of them as if he hadn't just seen Nick half an hour earlier.
He looked around for Grissom as he made his way to the lab, hoping to corner the man and talk him into letting Greg work a case. Any hopes he had of getting out into the field that night were quickly dashed when he saw the sheer volume of work that dayshift's craptacular new tech had left for him.
"God," Greg sighed as he surveyed the list of evidence he had to process, "am I the only one who works around here?"
"Yes." Hodges' dry voice said from behind him. He passed Greg, sipping a cup of coffee and holding a newspaper in the other hand. "You're the one that does all the work and the rest of us just ride your golden coattails."
Greg shook his head and rolled his eyes, biting back the urge to return Hodge's insult with one of his own. If he was going to be trapped in the lab all night, the last thing he needed was to start a fight.
"Nothing to it but to do it," he said to himself as he slipped his blue lab coat on and reached for the box of latex gloves. Hopefully he could get most of it done before nightshift started bringing him their evidence to process.
His hopes were once again unfounded, however, when twenty minutes into shift one of the coroner's assistants came in bearing blood samples, fingernail clippings, and trace hairs removed from the body.
"Jesus," Jacqui said as she leaned against the door a few hours later. "I never thought it would happen, but it has."
Greg looked up from his microscope quickly. The sugar rumors had died down eventually, but he could feel Hodges staring at him sometimes like he knew something he wasn't supposed to know. He and Nick kept their distance at work, but when he saw Jacqui's smug expression he couldn't help but wonder if she'd figured it out. "What?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.
"You," she said, "listening to music I actually like."
He grinned. "Yeah. GN'R, man, they're classic. It's Ni—" he cut himself off and coughed. "Uh, it's new. The CD, I mean. I used to have it on tape."
"You and me both," Jacqui said with a sigh. "I can't listen to 'Patience' without wanting to raise a lighter in the air."
He smiled at her. "Please don't. Everything I got from Warrick is covered in cyanoacrylate, and while it's dry and probably not giving off fumes, I'm not so much into taking chances anymore."
Jacqui frowned and came further into the lab. "Super glue? Nobody told me. I've been sitting over there with nothing to do for half an hour."
"I don't think Warrick was the one to fume it," Greg said. "He wanted me to run trace on it to see what the coating was."
Jacqui pushed Greg away from the microscope and looked down at the ballpoint pen he'd been inspecting. "I see ridge detail."
"Yeah. I was just about to let you know."
"At least three partials. They're tiny, but if it's the same print I'm sure I can match them up," she said as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves and gently took the pen off the microscope's stage.
Greg grinned as he watched her head back to her own lab, muttering to herself as she looked at the pen. He loved how focused she got when she was on the chase. Sometimes he wished he could be as satisfied in the lab as all the other techs seemed to be, especially on nights when he had nothing but routine analysis from start to finish.
He took his gloves off and tossed them in the trash, rubbed the back of his neck as he pushed his rolling chair over to the table of evidence that was quickly starting to overflow. He pulled on a new pair of gloves and reached for a manila envelope labeled in Sara's chicken scratch.
Inside were several tubes containing cotton swabs of blood. He yawned as he spread them out on his counter and slid his chair over to another counter where he retrieved a sterile pair of scissors and a test tube stand.
"Hey, G," Nick said from behind him. "What do you have for me?"
Greg set the scissors and stand next to Sara's samples and propelled his chair over to the cabinet where he kept the proteinase K. "Nothing yet," he said, sliding back over to his main workstation. He looked up at Nick and smiled. His brain was fried and it was nice to see Nick. He rarely came into the lab anymore, especially when Hodges was working just down the hall. "Haven't even looked at it yet."
"I gave you those samples three hours ago!"
Greg was silent for a long moment. He was used to CSIs insisting that their case had to be his priority, but they didn't usually yell at him. Nick had never yelled at him before. "I'm backed up," he said. "Your case is next in line, but I have to get these swabs replicating first."
"Screw those swabs," Nick snapped. He snatched them up off the counter without even bothering to put on a pair of gloves.
"Hey," Greg cried, reaching out for them. "Don't, you'll break the chain of possession or, worse, contaminate them."
Nick tossed the tubes onto the evidence table and grabbed a bundle wrapped in druggist's paper. "You'll do it now," he snapped. "Don't take a break until you've got the results."
Greg raised his eyebrows as Nick stalked out of the lab. Normally he would have put the bundle back and retrieved the swabs from Sara's case, continuing in the first come first served order that was standard protocol. There'd been something in Nick's eyes however, an edge to his voice that Greg hadn't ever heard before.
"What was that?" Jacqui asked, scuttling into the lab and looking over her shoulder to make sure that Nick was far enough down the hall not to hear her.
Greg sighed and shrugged, then used a scalpel to slit open the red tape that held the bundle closed. He spread the paper out on the counter first, then unfolded the pink t-shirt inside. "Map of Hawaii," he said.
"Huh?" Jacqui asked.
"Semen stain," Greg said. "One large island, smaller islands radiating outward."
"That's fucked up," Jacqui said. "You know I'm never going to be able to think about Hawaii again without that association."
"Oh, come on," he said as he reached for a packet of sterile swabs. "Maps of Hawaii aren't necessarily a bad thing."
She smirked. "You'd know. So, who is he?"
His eyes flickered up for a moment as he reached for a bottle of sterile water to moisten the end of the swab. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're obviously dating somebody new, and when it's a girl you can't shut up about it. Who's the new guy that's making you walk around with moony eyes all the time and sing country songs?"
Greg tried to suppress his smile. "You heard that, huh?"
"Oh, yeah."
"He's just a guy," he said as he rubbed the swab over the largest of the islands.
"Country music, Greg."
"Fine. He's a guy I really like," he said, smearing the sample across a microscope slide.
"Uh-huh. So, is it serious?"
"Don't you have a ballpoint to analyze?" He gently placed a thin square of glass over the sample and mounted the slide beneath the microscope lens.
"AFIS is running the print right now."
He looked up at her. "You work fast."
Jacqui smiled and shrugged. "I have a gift. What can I say? So, do I know him?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "Well, come on. You have to give me something Bobby and I can dish about."
Greg pretended to think for a moment. "Well, he's a little older than me—"
"How much older?"
"A few years. It's not like it's an April-September thing. He looks amazing in boxer briefs, and he's a talker."
Jacqui grinned. "I love talkers."
"You need a boyfriend."
"You wanna share yours?" she teased.
"He doesn't swing that way," Greg said. "Sorry. That enough to tide you and Bobby over for a while?"
"It'll do for today."
"And, hey," he said as she started to leave the lab. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "Not that you ever would, but try not to let Hodges find out about it, OK? He's been giving me the stink eye for weeks now, just waiting for something he can use against me."
Jacqui glanced in the direction of Hodges' lab. "Do you think he'd use you being bi against you?" she asked. "I mean, I always thought he was a little…gay."
Greg shuddered. "Oh, that's a visual I did not need. I don't know what he is and I don't care. You know he wants my job."
Jacqui rolled her eyes. "Like he's going to get it."
"I know, but he thinks he's better than I am and I don't want him being, well, himself if he finds out about me."
"Gotcha," Jacqui said. "Good luck with Hawaii."
"Good luck getting a hit off AFIS."
"It's not luck, kid," she said with a grin as she left the lab. "It's pure skill."
Greg looked down the 'scope and frowned. "Huh," he said as he looked at the sample.
He slid back over to the shirt, used a fresh blade to scrape a bit of crust off the edge of one the stains and placed it on a slide. He put a drop of water on it, waited a moment, then placed a slide cover over it. He switched out the slides and studied the second sample.
"That's funny," he said to himself as Sara walked into the lab.
"Where are my results?" she asked.
"Nowhere, yet. You're next in line." He slid his chair back over towards the shirt again and cut out a small sample of stained fabric with the scissors. He used a forceps to lift it and place it in a test tube.
"Greg, this case is important," she said as he immersed the sample in sterile water and slid it into the centrifuge.
"They're all important," he said as he set the centrifuge running.
"I'm serious, Greg. If you're going to just spend your shift goofing off—"
He looked up at her with a glance so sharp it made her stop in the middle of her sentence.
"What part of what I'm doing looks like goofing off to you?" he snapped. "Until I grow a second set of arms, I can only work so fast. Not to mention that I've got the overflow from dayshift, Covello took the time to come by and personally let me know that he's keeping an eye on my work involving the McGruder case, and Nick's been possessed by the spirit of Grissom on a bad day. You're next in line, that's the best I can do, and if you keep coming in here and interrupting me it's going to take even longer, so stop wasting my time and when I'm finished, I'll page you."
Sara raised her palms towards him as she backed towards the door. "OK. Don't need to chew my head off."
He frowned as he took another sample of the stain so that he could run a PCR. The centrifuge stopped whirring just as he'd finished treating the sample with the enzyme needed to break down its proteins.
He took the sample from the centrifuge, grabbed a test kit out of one of the cabinets, and measured out a bit of the sample liquid to place in the kit's receiving well. He watched as three vertical lines appeared in the test kit's window. "Very interesting," he said as he set it aside.
He processed the rest of the evidence from Nick's crime scene. There wasn't much: mouth swabs from three known donors, a single hair, and a smear of something red that definitely wasn't blood.
He'd gotten through Sara's blood samples, Catherine's fingernail scrapings, the stomach contents of a beetle Grissom had collected, and was just starting to make a dent in the dayshift overflow when Nick stormed into the lab.
"Hey," Greg said nervously. Nick was not in a good mood, he could feel it all the way across the lab. "I, uh, I paged you an hour ago."
"Just tell me what you've got," Nick said.
Greg suspected that it was definitely not the time to make a presentation. "Stains on the shirt didn't have any swimmers," he said. "But I ran a p30, they're definitely semen stains, just no sperm."
"God damn it!" Nick snapped, and Greg jumped back when he punched the counter.
"Uh…" Greg continued, watching Nick pace back and forth out of the corner of his eye. "Even without sperm I managed to get DNA from epithelials. It's a positive match to the first swab, uh," he looked down at his notes.
"Jacob Ellerson," Nick said.
Greg nodded. "Yeah. And there was a follicle tag on the hair, matches to swab number two—"
"Rebecca Post." Nick's voice was soft but it made Greg shiver. He didn't know anybody was capable of being that angry and that calm at the same time.
"Also, there was saliva mixed with the lipstick—that's what the red smear was, by the way—with enough epithelials to make a match, also to Rebecca Post."
Nick nodded, his shoulders slumped. Greg thought he looked defeated. "Nick," he whispered. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. "Are you all right?"
Nick took a deep breath and shook his head quickly, as if to clear it. "That bitch is going down," he hissed before turning on his heel and stalking away. Greg watched him get halfway down the hall before he remembered to close his mouth.
"What do you have for me?" Catherine asked brightly as she breezed into the lab.
Greg stared at the hall for a moment. He couldn't see Nick anymore, but he continued to watch where he'd been. Then he snapped his focus to Catherine. "Uh, which one was yours again?" he asked.
She blew out a quick puff of hair to brush a strand of hair off her face. "Scrapings, Greg. Dead girl found in a dumpster behind the Bellagio. Ring any bells?"
"Oh," Greg said. "Yeah. DNA under her nails is not hers and still unidentified. No match in CODIS."
Catherine sighed and frowned, then looked at him for a moment. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine," he said. "It's Nick I'm worried about." He regretted saying it for a moment, but then he figured that even if he and Nick had only been friends he still would have been worried about Nick's reaction.
Catherine wrinkled her nose, then pursed her lips. "I told Gris not to give him that case. You know how he is with child murder."
"I know how you all are with child murder," Greg said. "This is different. This was…I just told him that the semen sample didn't contain any sperm and he punched the desk."
Catherine's eyes went wide, but Greg suspected it wasn't because of Nick's reaction. The lack of sperm meant something, he just didn't know what. He'd thought it was interesting, but it wasn't like vasectomies were all that uncommon. "Oh, God," Catherine said, heading for the door. "Oh, Nicky."
And Greg wanted to call after her and ask what the hell was going on, but Grissom was heading down the hall with an intent look on his face and Greg knew he was coming to see if Greg had been able to get any human DNA out of his beetle's stomach.
He was halfway through his presentation to Grissom when it hit him; men with vasectomies weren't the only ones who produced semen without sperm. Pre-pubescent boys didn't produce sperm, either.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 10:10 am (UTC)Yes! Now it's Nick's turn to work through his shit.
Still loving this series so much. And new Greg with Karate Throw action?
sexy
no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 11:31 am (UTC)karate-action!Greg was great, and I really liked the "couple-ness" of their morning together.
I've often wondered how backed up things must get in the lab, and of course every CSI is going to consider their stuff primary - hard for Greg to have everyone leaning on him, and Hodges breathing down his neck.
what's coming in Nick's case is going to hurt, isn't it?
no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 04:56 pm (UTC)Now since that's out of the way... awesome chapter, as usual! Poor Nicky. It made my heart twist to read that.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 06:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 11:50 am (UTC)Beautiful writing dear, I absolutely love the story and I can't wait for the next chappie. XD
no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:41 pm (UTC)And I'm even meaner to Nicky in 13. I love them, and yet I love to make them suffer. Twisted, no?
no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 06:28 pm (UTC)And "wow" on the whole lab action - you definitely know your stuff, huh?
I can't stop thinking this is just another missed episode.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 07:50 pm (UTC)And by all means, pile on the sufferin'. Ahhhh, angst/comfort: a match made in heaven!
no subject