nickngreg | (no subject) (Reply)

I'll be honest. I am terrified right now of what the response will be to this. I've never written a CSI fic before, much less a Nick/Greg. So, cut me some slack until I get in the groove of things.

Title: Prelude to Disaster
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for what could be a plot.
Challenge: ‘Sick’ at ngchallenge
Rating: PG (for now) Three bad words.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None now, but for future chapters: Slash and Angst.
Summary: Being sick is the least of his worries.

Author’s Note: I need a beta. If anyone wants to volunteer I’ll give you a cookie and a smile.
If the response for this is positive I’ll write another chapter.

His head hurt like hell. While struggling to sit up, his suddenly heavy head began to spin and he
immediately collapsed back onto the bed. Groaning, the man attempted to get his feet on the
ground and stumble to the bathroom. The trip was soon discovered to be fruitless as the bottom of
a Tylenol bottle stared back at him. “Well, shit,” declared the sniffling, fevered man.

Stabilizing himself against the bathroom counter, the man ventured into the mess of what was once
an organized bedroom. Clothes, magazines, and what looked like his lover’s old police uniform
littered the floor. Shrugging on a sweatshirt and tugging on a pair of what looked like jeans he
prepared himself to walk the block and a half to the nearest Favorite Market to buy another bottle
of Tylenol.

The twenty minute walk that should have been just ten exhausted the man.
Determined to hurry in and out of the store he pushed himself to speed up, buy the medicine and
leave. While waiting for the clerk to give him his change the sound of the door bursting open
stole his attention. Before he knew what was happening he was pushed to the ground as a masked
man took his previous position before the register.

Once again, all Greg Sanders could say was, “Well, shit.”