Some Will Win, Chapter 1.
Sep. 30th, 2005 06:01 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nickngregTitle: Some Will Win
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Chapter: 1 of ?
Rating: PG (lighter stuff this time, kids.)
Summary: Inspired by a Journey song, I’ll give you three guesses which one. Takes place during the time in between “Grave Danger” and “Bodies In Motion.” No spoilers for the latter, some spoilerage for GD.
Author’s Note: You’ll have to forgive me, I haven’t written about these two wonderful fellas in a LOOONG time, so yeah. I wish I could write more about Greg being all tormented and angsty, but the CSI people keep turning Nick into the wounded puppy, so there ya go. I wish they were mine, but alas, I do not claim them as my own.
“Nick, you ready for this?”
Warrick smiled slightly, patting his partner’s back as they stepped over the tape. Nick nodded, feigning confidence as he surveyed the scene. Double homicide, ten feet away from the front entrance of a low level casino, business as usual, he thought, kneeling softly to get a closer look.
“Rick, are you seeing this,” he questioned, pointing to the bloodied shoe prints shining neon in the casino’s obnoxious red glow.
“Yeah, man. I’m seeing it.”
It took over three hours to go over the scene, cataloguing, tagging, bagging, writing up, measuring, eyeballing. Something was gnawing at the base of his skull; something like stress, but Nick couldn’t focus on it enough to taste it. He watched Warrick perform his duties, almost robotically it seemed. Empty, just empty.
“You okay, Nick?” Warrick bumped his shoulder, rousing him from the trance.
“Yeah, yeah. Just…” he trailed off, hoping Rick would catch on.
“We’re about done here, you head back to the lab, I’ll meet you there,” Warrick answered, throwing him the keys.
“Thanks, man,” he answered, hopping into the truck.
Heading down the busy highway, he cursed himself silently for not sticking it out. Similar episodes had been happening on and off since “the incident.” Mandatory therapy sessions were drudging up more than their fair share of nasty, and Nick wished more than anything to just push the whole business aside and start fresh. But no, he had to talk with headshrinkers, and ingest their pyschobabble, day in, day out. He knew it wasn’t helping; the things just beyond his eye line were always waiting for him when he closed his eyes. Sleeping with the lights out was no longer a problem, but the stereo had to stay loud in order for sleep to actually occur. The silence invited things that weren’t welcome.
As he rolled into the parking lot, the refrain sang out once more,Why does this shit always happen to me?
---
“You invade my personal space one more time, and I’m telling Dad,” Greg joked as Hodges elbowed his way across the floor towards him.
“Just making sure you’re not sticking your fingers in my petri dishes, Sanders.”
“Oh, by the gods, I’d never touch anything you’ve already molested, HAAAWDGES,” Greg replied, waving exaggerated goodbyes as he headed for the locker room.
Turning the corner, he noticed Nick leaning over one the benches, fumbling with his shoelaces. He blinked, the repetitive pattern growing erratic, near violent in its simplicity.
Lightly, he asked,” Need some help there, Nick? Lemme see if I can remember that rhyme about the bunny ears…”
Nick smiled, relaxing his arms as he looked up,” No, I think I can handle it, Greg.”
An awkward silence stretched on as he pulled his jacket from the locker, pulling his headphones away from the hood. Over his shoulder he watched as Nick tied the same shoe three times, untying and tying, backwards and forwards. Without thinking, he placed his hand over Nick’s, and spoke softly,” Let me, please.”
Nick reclined slightly, giving him access to the laces. He watched as his coworker’s expression change, a slight grimace smoothed into a secret smile. He’d seen that smile before. Greg grinned warmly, patting the toes of the shoes playfully as he finished.
“There ya go, all set.”
He watched the pink rush to Nick’s face as he stood, childlike in his bashfulness. Stopping the uncomfortable hush, he spoke again,” It’s ok, Nick. Anytime, really.”
Nick nodded thankfully, rushing from the room to prevent a further scene.
Greg looked down at his feet and thought, Anytime, Nicky, anytime.
---
tbc.
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Chapter: 1 of ?
Rating: PG (lighter stuff this time, kids.)
Summary: Inspired by a Journey song, I’ll give you three guesses which one. Takes place during the time in between “Grave Danger” and “Bodies In Motion.” No spoilers for the latter, some spoilerage for GD.
Author’s Note: You’ll have to forgive me, I haven’t written about these two wonderful fellas in a LOOONG time, so yeah. I wish I could write more about Greg being all tormented and angsty, but the CSI people keep turning Nick into the wounded puppy, so there ya go. I wish they were mine, but alas, I do not claim them as my own.
“Nick, you ready for this?”
Warrick smiled slightly, patting his partner’s back as they stepped over the tape. Nick nodded, feigning confidence as he surveyed the scene. Double homicide, ten feet away from the front entrance of a low level casino, business as usual, he thought, kneeling softly to get a closer look.
“Rick, are you seeing this,” he questioned, pointing to the bloodied shoe prints shining neon in the casino’s obnoxious red glow.
“Yeah, man. I’m seeing it.”
It took over three hours to go over the scene, cataloguing, tagging, bagging, writing up, measuring, eyeballing. Something was gnawing at the base of his skull; something like stress, but Nick couldn’t focus on it enough to taste it. He watched Warrick perform his duties, almost robotically it seemed. Empty, just empty.
“You okay, Nick?” Warrick bumped his shoulder, rousing him from the trance.
“Yeah, yeah. Just…” he trailed off, hoping Rick would catch on.
“We’re about done here, you head back to the lab, I’ll meet you there,” Warrick answered, throwing him the keys.
“Thanks, man,” he answered, hopping into the truck.
Heading down the busy highway, he cursed himself silently for not sticking it out. Similar episodes had been happening on and off since “the incident.” Mandatory therapy sessions were drudging up more than their fair share of nasty, and Nick wished more than anything to just push the whole business aside and start fresh. But no, he had to talk with headshrinkers, and ingest their pyschobabble, day in, day out. He knew it wasn’t helping; the things just beyond his eye line were always waiting for him when he closed his eyes. Sleeping with the lights out was no longer a problem, but the stereo had to stay loud in order for sleep to actually occur. The silence invited things that weren’t welcome.
As he rolled into the parking lot, the refrain sang out once more,Why does this shit always happen to me?
---
“You invade my personal space one more time, and I’m telling Dad,” Greg joked as Hodges elbowed his way across the floor towards him.
“Just making sure you’re not sticking your fingers in my petri dishes, Sanders.”
“Oh, by the gods, I’d never touch anything you’ve already molested, HAAAWDGES,” Greg replied, waving exaggerated goodbyes as he headed for the locker room.
Turning the corner, he noticed Nick leaning over one the benches, fumbling with his shoelaces. He blinked, the repetitive pattern growing erratic, near violent in its simplicity.
Lightly, he asked,” Need some help there, Nick? Lemme see if I can remember that rhyme about the bunny ears…”
Nick smiled, relaxing his arms as he looked up,” No, I think I can handle it, Greg.”
An awkward silence stretched on as he pulled his jacket from the locker, pulling his headphones away from the hood. Over his shoulder he watched as Nick tied the same shoe three times, untying and tying, backwards and forwards. Without thinking, he placed his hand over Nick’s, and spoke softly,” Let me, please.”
Nick reclined slightly, giving him access to the laces. He watched as his coworker’s expression change, a slight grimace smoothed into a secret smile. He’d seen that smile before. Greg grinned warmly, patting the toes of the shoes playfully as he finished.
“There ya go, all set.”
He watched the pink rush to Nick’s face as he stood, childlike in his bashfulness. Stopping the uncomfortable hush, he spoke again,” It’s ok, Nick. Anytime, really.”
Nick nodded thankfully, rushing from the room to prevent a further scene.
Greg looked down at his feet and thought, Anytime, Nicky, anytime.
---
tbc.
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