[identity profile] kieksterbanjo.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] nickngreg
Title: Assassin
Rating: Chapter 2: PG
Author: kieksterbanjo
Warnings: Violence and shooting and all that stuff
Summary: He's one of their best trainees...but is he ready for the real thing and everything that comes with it?---- Totally AU and there is a good chance the rating will fluctuate.
Disclaimer: Would I like to own them? YES. But do I? Alas No. I would also like to make money from this and marry Benji Schwimmer from So You Think You Can Dance but one must live in the real world. *sigh*
A/N: So I'm bored from being off school for the next three weeks so what does that mean? I post more. I posted this over at WMTDB but decided to post it over here basically because I enjoyed it so much. I'll post a chapter a day if you wnat them:)

 

 

Chapter 2

 

            When one looked at Greg Sanders there was no way in hell they immediately said ‘crack shot assassin’. Hell when he, himself, looked in the mirror he didn’t even see it. He was a science nerd, with a slender yet muscular build, who just happened to have an aptitude for paintball. Well maybe aptitude wasn’t the best word to use. Obsession may be more accurate. He had been part of 8 four man/woman teams and had played almost every day. But paintball was VERY different then what he was doing now…

 

            Nick hadn’t seemed to think so though because it was after a match 6 months before at the paintball club Greg played at when they first met. Greg thought it all very ‘cheesy movie’ at the time but thinking back on it now it was probably the defining moment of his life.

 


~~~6 month before~~~

 

            “Good match Greg! You have to teach me that move you used to get Shane!” Greg laughed at Stevie’s enthusiasm and nodded as he took a drink of his water bottle, whipping sweat from his brow.

 

            “Sure thing Stevie. See ya tomorrow.” Greg said in way of parting sentiments.

 

As he made his way to his car he was stopped several times by players and watchers alike to slap him on the back for his exceptional skill. The attention was normal, being as good as he was he had people who game to matches just because he was playing in them. It wasn’t even like there was a league, more pick up then true organization, but they always seemed to know when he would be playing with one of his teams. Slightly stalkerish sure, but Greg had always liked the attention and it wasn’t like they tried to follow him home.

 

            It was the watcher leaning against his car that really caught Greg’s eye though. He was definitely not a player, his choice of clothing attire looked like he should be in a board room and was not something one would wear to even watch a paintball match let alone play in it. Greg didn’t recognize him so he figured the man must have been new. The true hard core paintballing community was small and tight knit and new people seemed out of place to begin with but not only that, Greg KNEW he would have remembered a face like that. The man was like nothing else he had ever seen before and while Greg tried to downplay his sexual preference slightly around his very straight paintball teammates he couldn’t help but allow himself a quick once (or maybe twice) over of the man in front of him before making his way over to him.

 

            “Do you always hang out around strangers’ cars? Cause while I don’t necessarily mind, do it to the wrong person and you could have trouble on your hands.” Greg said slinging his bag and helmet into the trunk before making his way to the driver’s side door where the man stood.

 

            “You’re very good you know.” The man said simply completely dismissing Greg’s question.

 

            “Thanks.” Greg answered back simply, more then used to the praise.

 

            “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

 

            Greg’s easy grin faltered for a second. THAT he was not used to. Sure he got hit on all the time but outside of the bars he frequented, women were the ones doing the hitting. Never attractive men that made Greg wondered why Man had ever developed the need for clothing. Realizing he hadn’t said anything in several minutes Greg shook his head, “Uh yeah sure. Do you have your own car or do you need a ride?”

 

            The man laughed, “I’ve got my own thanks. Meet you at Frank’s in 5?”

 

            “You eat at Frank’s?” Greg asked incredulously. He thought only HE ate at Frank’s Restaurant; everyone else to afraid of the food to step foot inside.

 

            “There are a lot of things about me who’d be surprised to find out.” The man laughed again before pushing himself from Greg’s driver’s side door, “I’m Nick by the way.”

 

            “Greg.” Greg said simply before Nick gave a small wave and made his way over to his car. Greg stood dumbfounded for a second or two before giving a small ‘whoop’ and jumping into his car. He didn’t think he’s ever driven that fast in his life.

 

--- --- --- ---

 

            “So why paintball? I mean as good as you are you must do this a lot.” Nick said as they sat in the tiny booth near the window at Frank’s waiting for their lunch.

 

            Greg shrugged, “I play because of my father.”

 

            “Your father pushed you into paintball? Seems like something a father would want to keep his son AWAY from. Violent and all.”

 

            “Oh believe me it was. He was a cop and he once made me promise to never have anything to do with guns. I’m assuming he meant paintball or otherwise.”

 

            “So again I ask; why do you do it?” Nick asked confused.

 

            Again Greg shrugged, adding more sugar to his coffee then he normally did, he just needed something to do with his hands. This wasn’t going exactly how he had planned, most of the time when he went out with guys they talked about fluff and nonsensical stuff on the first date. Saving the other stuff for later in the relationship, but if Greg was being honest he had never really let it get to the point where they talked about the other stuff. He didn’t know why sitting in a dank café with a man he had just met was bringing out this type of conversation, “Ever since I was 5 it had just been me and my dad. He was everything to me after my mom died. He was my hero.” Greg sighed before continuing, “A month after my 10th birthday he was at work. I was staying with my grandparents and my grandfather got a call. He took me down to the hospital saying that my dad had been hurt. He’d been shot actually, after pulling someone over for speeding. Speeding for Christ sake! He was awake when I got to the hospital and he promised me he would be home before I knew it. He, uh, never did come home.”

 

            “I’m so sorry.” Nick whispered.

 

            Greg shrugged once again, “It was a long time ago. But after that I got really angry. Thinking that if he really loved me so much he would have done the same as he had made me promise-- stay away from guns, that is. But he didn’t and he ended up being taken away from me because of it. So I decided a month later that I wasn’t going to listen to anything he had ever told me. I got my first paintball gun the day after, cause I was to young for a real gun. It’s been paintball ever since. It never progressed to real guns cause after a while the anger was gone. I no longer needed to go against him, but by then I was so attached to playing paintball I couldn’t let it go.”

 

            “That’s quite a story Greg.” Nick said softly.

 

            “It’s what makes a person I guess.” Greg whispered and then coughed to shake the moment, “But that’s enough about me. What about you? You haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

 

            “Unfortunately there isn’t much to tell.” Nick chuckled.

 

            “Oh come on there has to be. What do you do for a living?”

 

            “Now THAT is a weighted question. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Nick said taking a sip from his coffee and looking out the window.

 

            “Try me.” Greg smirked with a twinkle in his eye.

 

            Nick leaned his elbows on the table with a smirk and looked quickly around the restaurant before motioning with his eyes for Greg to do the same. Greg let out a quick laugh before complying, leaning across the table; wondering why Nick was being so secretive about something as mundane as an occupation.

 

            “I’m one of the world’s foremost hired assassins working for a company called Special Force, the only legitimate company of its kind in the United States. And I’m here to offer you a job.” Nick said in a whisper.

 

            Greg thought his stomach was going to explode; he was laughing so hard, “You’re shitting me man! Wow I haven’t laughed this much in a long time. I appreciate that. But come on what do you really do.” Greg asked calming down considerable to see Nick hadn’t moved from his position leaning against the table and his face had remained stoic, save for a quirked eyebrow, “Come on. Be serious. What do you actually do?” Greg asked again. Nick remained silent. Greg suddenly wondered if the man sitting across from his was actually joking, “You…you can’t be serious about that. People like that don’t really exist.” Nick again remained silent, “You ARE serious!” Greg said after a moment and thinking back he would think how stupid it was to have a one-sided conversation but at the time it was the last thing on his mind, “What the fuck are you getting at?” He asked suddenly scared and confused. His lunch date had suddenly turned to not so much of a date and he wasn’t even hungry for lunch anymore.

 

            “Greg we’ve been watching you for some time. You’re perfect for our organization. You’ve obviously got the skill with a fire arm; you live a semi-solitary life, no real commitments like a wife or a family; and you seem to be in the right state of mind.” Nick explained.

 

            “But I shoot paintball guns! I’ve never shot a real gun in my life! And I have a cat! I don’t like a totally solitary life! And I have friends! Lots of them!” Greg was now babbling but while he was frantic he remained at a whisper. No need for the nice customers of Frank’s to be privy to their conversation, “And how do you know I’m in the right mindset? I could be a psycho and have just had a dry period in psycho behaviour!”

 

            “We’ve been watching you for two years.” Nick said simply.

 

            “Okay a LONG dry period.” Greg said exasperatedly, “I don’t…I don’t understand. You want me to…to kill…to kill people?”

 

            “It’s not as cut and dry and it seems Greg. But you’re reaction is totally normal. I had the same one when I was approached. All I’m asking is that you think about it. You WOULD be perfect for our organization and if you decide you want to be a part of it we can start training as soon as possible. I’m giving you a choice Greg. You can stay here and eat at Frank’s every day, sit at home with your cat at night, sometimes going out and getting plastered and playing paintball game after paintball game or you can make something out of your life and do something that will inevitably help millions of people lives.” Nick said with a shrug of his shoulders, “Here’s my card, call the number on it if you want to find the part of you that’s been missing. If not, then don’t call and I’ll say now to have a good life. No hard feelings.”

 

            Greg stared down at the unremarkable looking business card. It said simply;

 

‘Nick Stokes

523-9967’

           

            in black lettering. Nothing more, nothing less. Somehow he found himself nodding his head to Nick’s instruction and Nick again gave a curt nod before throwing a couple of bills onto the table.

 

            “I’ve gotta go right now. That should cover my meal.” He said formally, “Think about it Greg,” He said lighting his tone as he got up and swung his suit jacket over his shoulder, “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

 

            And with that Nick was gone. He was gone before Greg could even get a word out and he looked around confused wondering how the older man could slip out so easily. The whole situation seemed to be like a dream. As the waitress set down his plate in front of him he looked at it with disgust but sat and moved it around his plate for what seemed like an eternity before taking Nick’s lead and throwing some bills to cover the meal on the table and walking in a daze out to his car.

 

~~Present~~~

 

            Greg had called Nick two days later. He remembered Nick sounding like he had been expecting the call rather then surprised that it had been made at all, which was how Greg had felt about calling.

 

            He had met with Nick the following week and after several psych evaluations and long question and answer session between the two, Greg had started training. He remembered walking into his first class, there had only been 5 people in it. The number of his class now was only three. He assumed some people just couldn’t hack it.

 

            Sitting on his cot now, with the shoelace of his still yet to be tied shoe still within his fingertips he wouldn’t if he himself would be able to hack it. He had picked up the training very well and he could shoot cardboard cut outs of boy band members all day long but was he really ready for the real thing? Ready to take the final step and take his proficiency? His boss seemed to think he was but it did little to reassure him.

 

            Sighing, he finally tied his shoelace and was in the process of pulling on his jacket so he could make his way to the ‘debriefing’ room to get an official evaluation on his performance when the door opened behind him. He turned quickly hoping it was Nick so he could talk to him more about what he had said but instead it was a fellow trainee, Maxine (Max) Turgit, “Hey Gregory Smegory. How’s it hanging?” She asked bubbly as ever. Max was small, only 5’4”, but talented. And her bouncy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes make her look younger then she was. Greg had become fast friends with her.

 

            “It’s all right Max. Where have you been?” Greg asked taking his wallet from his dresser and slipping it into his back pocket.

 

            “Sitting in on target practice. It’s simply incredible to watch Sara, Warrick and Catherine perform isn’t it?” She said shivering slightly. Greg knew the feeling. He had watched many a target practice with the members of SF over his 6 months there and it was almost surreal to watch. They never missed!

 

            “Yeah it is. But I’m off to get debriefed.”

 

            “Ooooh! Greggo got another one?! Yay!” She smiled slapping him on the back.

 

            “Yeah.” Greg laughed nervously. He never quite understood how everyone could be so…casual about what they did. The thought of taking another human’s life shook him to the core, yet Max was talking about it like they were cooking a turkey, “Well see ya later Max.”

 

            “Bye darling, I’ve got my own session to prepare for!”

 

            “Well good luck.” He said as he slipped out of the room and out of the building, making his way to the building his meeting would be held.

 

 

--- --- --- ---

 

            “I want to congratulate you on an exceptional session today Greg.” Greg nodded politely as his boss’ words changed from formal evaluation to compliment, as he sat on one side of the board room like table that filled one of the rooms. On the other side of the table sat his boss, Gil Grissom; Nick; and the top director of Special Force Jim Brass. Greg was unaccustomed to this during his debriefings. Normally it was just Nick, giving him an overview of his performance. Grissom had never been present and Greg had never even met Jim Brass until that day. Needless to say he was nervous.

 

            Nick seemed to pick up on his nervousness because he kept sending apologetic glances Greg’s way and would tap his pen on the table repeatedly almost like he himself was nervous. It wasn’t his ship to run however and so he had remained almost completely silent as he let Grissom and Brass do the talking.

 

            “You’re technique was flawless and your ability to plan the perfect hit is phenomenal. I’m sure Nick has informed you of our intentions with your training.” Grissom continued.

 

            “Briefly, sir.” Greg said with a nod in Nick’s direction.

 

            “Well good. I believe you are indeed ready for your final proficiency. The test will consist of one job. One real life job. Now normally as you know we go into missions solo and they are completed as such. You’re final proficiency is not so. We never send a trainee out in the field alone the first time; we always send back up in the form of their mentor and trainer. Which means Nick would be accompanying you to assist you whenever necessary. He would not be there to complete the task obviously but he’s there to help in the planning process and as well as the part following the execution.” Grissom said also nodding in Nick’s direction, “We are not forcing you into anything Greg, but I seriously think you have reached the end of what we can teach you in the training process. Of course in this job you are always learning, the specific realm of the training program only reaches so far. I’ve spoken with Nick and Brass and we all feel you’ve reached the limit.”

 

            Greg sighed, “Well I appreciate you’re faith in me sir.” It was Grissom’s turn to nod politely. Greg swallowed and while he was scared shitless of the prospect of his final proficiency he knew his answer, “My grandfather told me a saying when I was little that I’ve always tried to live by: ‘Either do all, or nothing at all.’ So since I can’t imagine doing nothing at all and leaving the company, I’m in all the way. If you feel I’m ready to take the next step and that I’ve learned all I can learn then I’ll take my final proficiency.” He said strongly. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Nick was softly smile at him for his bravery, Greg couldn’t help but feel a blush encroach on his features.

 

            “All right then Greg. We’ll find you a task and inform you of the specs as soon as possible. Congratulations Greg, you’re one step closer to graduation day.” Grissom said with a smile, “Are their any questions you have before we let you go?”

 

            “Not that I can think of.” Greg said simply.

 

            “I have a question.” Brass said speaking for the first time, “Why an M&P .40? It’s a lighter piece then everyone else carries.”

 

            Greg was caught off guard by the question, “Um, it’s what I’m used to. My paintball guns are all lightweight so it’s easier to aim and maneuver.”

 

            “Hmmm interesting.” Brass said non-committal.

 

            “Well that will be all Greg. We’ll meet again once we have the specs for your task.” Greg nodded at Grissom’s words and then nodded to Nick and Jim respectively before pushing his chair out and leaving the room.

 

            “He’s not like anything we’ve ever seen before.” Brass said dumbfounded.

           

            “We said the exact same thing.” Grissom said with a small chuckle.

 

            “I’ve got a mission to prepare for.” Nick said shortly pushing away from the table and leaving the room without a word.

 

            “What’s wrong with Stokes?” Brass asked nodding towards the door.

 

            “That one I haven’t been able to figure out. He seems uncommonly concerned for Greg that he hasn’t shown for any other of his trainees. I’ll have to have a talk with him when he gets back from Kiev.”  Grissom said, “Right now we need to find an appropriate mission for Greg.”

 

--- --- --- ---

 

            Nick was feeling claustrophobic for the first time in his entire life. He had been crammed into the smallest areas possible during missions but standing in an open room was making him feel like the walls were closing in on him? Why?

 

            It was a stupid question though. He knew why. Greg. Sitting across from him in the board room Nick was mentally screaming at Greg to refuse the idea of taking his proficiency. But when Greg had accepted with almost no hesitation, while Nick had been proud of his bravery, he had started to feel like he couldn’t breathe.

 

            He’d trained a countless number of people to do the job, many of which had gone on to join teams within the agency, but never had he been so attached to one. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. He didn’t want to know WHY the prospect of Greg being in that kind of position scared the living daylights out of Nick. Deep down he knew why, but he didn’t want to face it. He had a job to do.

 

            Shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and made his way to his car. He left for Kiev in the morning and he still had work to do.

 

TBC

 

A/N: Hope you’re liking it. Hook me up with some feedback LOL

 

           

Date: 2006-12-19 06:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] barush.livejournal.com
wow, that was a quick update!
I must say I really like it:) Nick already starts to realize he likes Greg lol
I only hope Greg won't screw his proficiency...

Date: 2006-12-19 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ceala.livejournal.com
Good Chapter! I like the way you are laying the groundwork for the coming story. I'm still wondering if Greg is going to choke when it's a living, breathing human and not a cardboard target. I think the character of Greg Sanders is one of the most complex and interesting we've seen on prime time TV in a long time. He's brilliant, unconventional..sometimes he seems to be a pacifist and other time's you can just see him tearing into someone who's mistreating a person smaller or weaker. Put him with Nick and they are magic together. I think that one of the reasons George Eads is so underutilized on the current season of CSI is because TPTB have it in their heads that he's just eye candy and then he did Grave Danger and Gum Drops and his acting abilities just shone. Now they don't know what to do with him.

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