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nickngregHey everyone,
I've written another chapter. Enough with the small talk, on to the story!
Title: Shoebox
Chapter: 4
Author: verisimilit_de
Pairing: Nick and Greg, though they don’t show for a while.
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: They belong to the CBS and not me.
Summary: A mystery is uncovered while cleaning.
Author’s note: This isn’t a very typical Nick and Greg story. They don’t even show up for a while, and it’s not going to be heavy on the Nick/Greg aspect. However, since I can no longer vision them being apart, they are together in the fic and I swear they will show up eventually.
The first three chapters can be found at the following links:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Here's the new one.
Lying on my bed after dinner under the pretense of working on my project I think about the conversation we had. It’s worse than I thought. I gave dad the perfect opportunity to tell me about Greg and he didn’t even hint. Maybe he really is heartbroken that Greg left and has decided never to speak of him again. I need a plan to find Greg and get those two back together. But how? I don’t even know where he lives. He may not even be in the country. Mr. O’Sullivan mentioned something about him moving in with his grandfather, but where would that be?
Well, what do I do when I want to find a person…look them up in the phone book, I guess. That won’t work—they’re city specific and I don’t know the city. Maybe, the internet? Ok. I get up off my bed, sit down at my computer and open up Google. Typing in ‘Greg Sanders’ I already feel that this method is going to be a dead end. There’s too much stuff on the internet to find someone by just their name. Maybe if I had a middle name it would narrow things down but as is, this is going to be tough.
I groan when I see the thousands of hits. I open up the first one and read for a bit. Dud. I open up the second one and repeat the process. Dud. I continue for about a half hour before I become fed up. What I need is a picture. I switch to Google images and type in ‘Greg Sanders’—still a lot of hits, but I should be able to recognize him a lot faster than I would from simply text. I continue searching.
There, there it is. That has to be him. I’ve been searching for an hour and a half now and I’ve finally gotten some luck. I open the picture to its original website. It’s a newspaper article from the Las Vegas Sun. It’s not too old either, only about two years. I read:
Crime won a small victory today when the Las Vegas Crime Lab, at the heart of the city’s crime fighting unit, was damaged in an explosion from within. The source of the explosion is as yet unknown, but terrorism has not been ruled out.
Robert Covello, Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, has issued a statement that investigations are underway as to the source of the explosion and the amount of damage done to the criminal investigations going on in the lab.
Thirteen different criminal cases were being analysed in the DNA lab when it blew up—irreparably damaging the evidence. Will criminals be set free because of the explosion? Covello says that it is too early to tell.
Many were injured, but only one, Gregory Sanders, was taken for serious treatment at the Desert Palms hospital’s burn unit. Sanders, the nightshift DNA tech for the lab, was standing closest to the explosion when it occurred early this morning. Sources say that he has suffered second and third degree burns to his back and neck and that treatment is underway.
Wow. He was in a lab explosion. I lean back in my chair as I mull over this new information. I wonder if dad knows? Probably, he probably kept tabs on where Greg went and what he did and stuff. Maybe he even hired a private investigator.
So, Greg is in Las Vegas. Well, he was in Las Vegas. He might not be there anymore. I really should confirm that he’s there before I go and confront him. I guess I should call or something.
“Alexandra, it’s time to go to bed.” I hear my mother yell from the bottom of the stairs.
“Ok Mom” I yell back, annoyed that my plans have to be suspended yet again because of my parents.
Laying in bed after I get changed I think about Greg. He must be really smart to be a DNA tech. How do I call the crime lab? I guess I could find the number online and just…ask if he’s there? Ok, that sounds ok.
After school, before my parents get home from work I sit in front of the telephone with the number for the crime lab in my hand, putting the finishing touches on what I’m going to say. I looked up the number during my lunch break in the computer lab at school and now I’m ready. I dial the numbers and wait.
“Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I help you?” A female secretary says professionally into the phone.
“Hi, uh, I’m looking for Greg Sanders. Is he there?” I ask nervously, the butterflies in my stomach making it hard to sound as professional as the woman on the other line does.
“Yeah, he’s just walking by the front desk right now, hang on a sec…GREG! PHONE!” she replies.
Oh God, what do I do now? What do I say? I never planned on him actually being there. It’s not like this is a good thing to discuss over the phone. Ah, hey, this is your sister; did you know about me? How’s life been since you abandoned our father? Would you like to come home? Talk about impersonal. He’d think I was a prank caller or something.
“Hello, you’ve got Greg Sanders.” I hear a male voice say into the phone.
“Um…hello?” I whimper out, not knowing what to do and freaking out big time.
“What can I help you with?” He asks.
“Uh…nothing?” I smack my forehead with the heel of my hand. How stupid can I get?
“Look honey,” he starts jokingly, laughing a bit as he continues, “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve called, but unless it’s something important, like work-related, I just don’t have time to go into phone sex right now.”
“…uh…” My eyes go wide and I’m speechless. This is not how I was expecting my first conversation with my brother to go.
“That was supposed to make you laugh, break the ice, so to speak. That way we can get to your point sometime today. What…”
I hang up the phone in the middle of his sentence. Oh God did I just hang up on him? I just hung up on him! I cover my face in my hands; I’m mortified. Why did I do that? That was so stupid! He’s going to hate me. Or worse, think I’m a child. What am I going to do now?
After a few minutes go by I calm down and begin to see the glimmer of success in that phone call. Yes, I acted like an idiot. But, I found out where he is and I’ve confirmed that he’s a living, breathing person. Now all I have to do is figure out how I’m going to get to Las Vegas.
I've written another chapter. Enough with the small talk, on to the story!
Title: Shoebox
Chapter: 4
Author: verisimilit_de
Pairing: Nick and Greg, though they don’t show for a while.
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: They belong to the CBS and not me.
Summary: A mystery is uncovered while cleaning.
Author’s note: This isn’t a very typical Nick and Greg story. They don’t even show up for a while, and it’s not going to be heavy on the Nick/Greg aspect. However, since I can no longer vision them being apart, they are together in the fic and I swear they will show up eventually.
The first three chapters can be found at the following links:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Here's the new one.
Lying on my bed after dinner under the pretense of working on my project I think about the conversation we had. It’s worse than I thought. I gave dad the perfect opportunity to tell me about Greg and he didn’t even hint. Maybe he really is heartbroken that Greg left and has decided never to speak of him again. I need a plan to find Greg and get those two back together. But how? I don’t even know where he lives. He may not even be in the country. Mr. O’Sullivan mentioned something about him moving in with his grandfather, but where would that be?
Well, what do I do when I want to find a person…look them up in the phone book, I guess. That won’t work—they’re city specific and I don’t know the city. Maybe, the internet? Ok. I get up off my bed, sit down at my computer and open up Google. Typing in ‘Greg Sanders’ I already feel that this method is going to be a dead end. There’s too much stuff on the internet to find someone by just their name. Maybe if I had a middle name it would narrow things down but as is, this is going to be tough.
I groan when I see the thousands of hits. I open up the first one and read for a bit. Dud. I open up the second one and repeat the process. Dud. I continue for about a half hour before I become fed up. What I need is a picture. I switch to Google images and type in ‘Greg Sanders’—still a lot of hits, but I should be able to recognize him a lot faster than I would from simply text. I continue searching.
There, there it is. That has to be him. I’ve been searching for an hour and a half now and I’ve finally gotten some luck. I open the picture to its original website. It’s a newspaper article from the Las Vegas Sun. It’s not too old either, only about two years. I read:
Crime won a small victory today when the Las Vegas Crime Lab, at the heart of the city’s crime fighting unit, was damaged in an explosion from within. The source of the explosion is as yet unknown, but terrorism has not been ruled out.
Robert Covello, Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, has issued a statement that investigations are underway as to the source of the explosion and the amount of damage done to the criminal investigations going on in the lab.
Thirteen different criminal cases were being analysed in the DNA lab when it blew up—irreparably damaging the evidence. Will criminals be set free because of the explosion? Covello says that it is too early to tell.
Many were injured, but only one, Gregory Sanders, was taken for serious treatment at the Desert Palms hospital’s burn unit. Sanders, the nightshift DNA tech for the lab, was standing closest to the explosion when it occurred early this morning. Sources say that he has suffered second and third degree burns to his back and neck and that treatment is underway.
Wow. He was in a lab explosion. I lean back in my chair as I mull over this new information. I wonder if dad knows? Probably, he probably kept tabs on where Greg went and what he did and stuff. Maybe he even hired a private investigator.
So, Greg is in Las Vegas. Well, he was in Las Vegas. He might not be there anymore. I really should confirm that he’s there before I go and confront him. I guess I should call or something.
“Alexandra, it’s time to go to bed.” I hear my mother yell from the bottom of the stairs.
“Ok Mom” I yell back, annoyed that my plans have to be suspended yet again because of my parents.
Laying in bed after I get changed I think about Greg. He must be really smart to be a DNA tech. How do I call the crime lab? I guess I could find the number online and just…ask if he’s there? Ok, that sounds ok.
After school, before my parents get home from work I sit in front of the telephone with the number for the crime lab in my hand, putting the finishing touches on what I’m going to say. I looked up the number during my lunch break in the computer lab at school and now I’m ready. I dial the numbers and wait.
“Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I help you?” A female secretary says professionally into the phone.
“Hi, uh, I’m looking for Greg Sanders. Is he there?” I ask nervously, the butterflies in my stomach making it hard to sound as professional as the woman on the other line does.
“Yeah, he’s just walking by the front desk right now, hang on a sec…GREG! PHONE!” she replies.
Oh God, what do I do now? What do I say? I never planned on him actually being there. It’s not like this is a good thing to discuss over the phone. Ah, hey, this is your sister; did you know about me? How’s life been since you abandoned our father? Would you like to come home? Talk about impersonal. He’d think I was a prank caller or something.
“Hello, you’ve got Greg Sanders.” I hear a male voice say into the phone.
“Um…hello?” I whimper out, not knowing what to do and freaking out big time.
“What can I help you with?” He asks.
“Uh…nothing?” I smack my forehead with the heel of my hand. How stupid can I get?
“Look honey,” he starts jokingly, laughing a bit as he continues, “I don’t know who you are or why you’ve called, but unless it’s something important, like work-related, I just don’t have time to go into phone sex right now.”
“…uh…” My eyes go wide and I’m speechless. This is not how I was expecting my first conversation with my brother to go.
“That was supposed to make you laugh, break the ice, so to speak. That way we can get to your point sometime today. What…”
I hang up the phone in the middle of his sentence. Oh God did I just hang up on him? I just hung up on him! I cover my face in my hands; I’m mortified. Why did I do that? That was so stupid! He’s going to hate me. Or worse, think I’m a child. What am I going to do now?
After a few minutes go by I calm down and begin to see the glimmer of success in that phone call. Yes, I acted like an idiot. But, I found out where he is and I’ve confirmed that he’s a living, breathing person. Now all I have to do is figure out how I’m going to get to Las Vegas.
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Date: 2006-01-29 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-29 12:19 am (UTC)Great story!
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Date: 2006-01-29 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-29 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-30 08:10 am (UTC)