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Jan. 6th, 2007 05:44 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nickngregChapter Twenty: Waking to the Sun
Author: just1tearforme
Rating: PG
Words: 2933
Summary: Greg seemed a little emotionless, distant during GD. Why? There is a reason, perhaps not the reason one would suspect.
Previous chapters archived at WMTDB, my memories, and tag search.
Chapter Twenty: Waking to the Sun
There are only two things in life scarier than death: meeting your significant other’s parents for the first time, and meeting your former boss regardless of the circumstances behind the tete-a-tete. Since it was Grissom, it was even more frightening because you never knew what might happen. He gives away so little via facial expression or body language, but the slightest inflection of a word could destroy you. Once that happened, you might as well go home, because you were screwed and nothing for the moment could fix that fact. And if there wasn’t enough stigma and apprehension attached to the man, in many ways he was like a father-figure and the disappointment felt a hundred times as heavy on your shoulders. So if my palms were a little sweaty and my heart racing, well, let’s just say I had my reasons why.
I arrived at Java the Hut fifteen minutes early – the last time I had been that early to anything was my interview with Grissom and Brass back when I was a lowly lab DNA tech looking for a better gig. Those two were intimidating like Rottweilers. I really wanted to sink into the floor, but, somehow I had made it through and if I threw up in the bathroom afterwards… well, let’s not think about that. I had just sat down with my large Colombian Hazelnut roast when he arrived ten minutes early. My hands began to tremble and I spilled some coffee on them but didn’t really register the slight scalding.
He approached slowly like he was giving me a chance to flee in terror. I almost took him up on that. “Greg,” he said softly in his Grissom way, and suddenly I felt like a butterfly under glass being scrutinized for the smallest flaw of which I have many.
“G-Grissom.”
“Relax Greg. I won’t bite. You invited me, remember? I’m here to – I’ll have a medium decaf, black, please,” he replied taking the seat opposite. We spent the next few minutes in silence; I staring at my coffee like it held the meaning of life, and he staring at me until the waitress returned with his order. “So…” It was painful. It was awkward and I really wanted to sink the table and hide like it was a fort. “You look well. How are you, Greg?”
Well, at least it was a question I could answer. “Okay. I’m not doing great, but, I’m not horrible either. I’m doing okay and there’s always room for improvement.” I was babbling; I knew I was babbling and couldn’t stop. “I’ve been better, you know?”
“You look better than when we last spoke. You let the interesting dye job fade out.”
“Nah, I bleached it and dyed over it close to my natural colour,” I had only done it the other day. I was a little remorseful to see it go, but the red had faded (like they tend to do) to a funky mauve-y-heliotrope-ish-pink – not an attractive shade for me.
“Looks good,” Grissom murmured, sipping his coffee.
This is what we’d been reduced to, sipping coffee and volleying insipid pleasantries back and forth in an effort to pretend like we knew what the hell was going on in our lives and why we were sitting here. I really wanted to slam my head on the table loudly and hard. Seriously, I believe it would have produced the same effect.
“So Greg,” he said, gazing intently at me. “What did you want to talk about? As much fun as it is enjoying a cup of coffee, you did call me for a reason.”
There it was, the pink elephant sitting in the room; the one question that explained the reason for everything when answered honestly. “Well -” Man, my coffee got really interesting all of the sudden. “I need to tell you this and I don’t want you to ask any questions, just listen. Back when Nick was kidnapped…” It just tumbled out of me; I told him everything, laying myself completely open and bare. I was honest even when it hurt. There were a few details omitted, the ones that were privately shared between Nick and I. It took hours too; going through every sordid detail and letting Grissom see everything I put myself and others through the last few months, and even how I had come to use in the first place. Through it all, he didn’t utter a word for which I was grateful, even when I stuttered through the details. And when I was done I felt… lighter. My dirty little secret was no longer that; it felt kind of good.
“Now may I speak?” Grissom asked after I had drained my cup. I nodded. “I knew you weren’t well some time ago. Nick called me after he found you, although I had my suspicions. However, I wasn’t aware of the extent of it. Thank you, though, for being honest and telling me the truth. I appreciate that and think it shows great strength.”
“Thanks.”
The waitress brought us refills. “So what is it you want from me?”
It was now or never time. Quietly, I made my request, “I was wondering if your offer still remained – which I totally understand if it doesn’t, because I really wasn’t expecting it to. After all, I was a total dick and millions of other things, and seriously don’t deserve anything after the ways I’ve fucked up.”
“Greg, Greg, slow down. Let me deal with one statement at a time. Of course, the offer still stands but there will be some modifications in light of what you’ve told me. I know I don’t say this often but, Greg, you’re smart, inquisitive, and I am grateful to have you working with me. You have been an asset to the department from the first day you started. I would really like to have you as part of the team again, but, I do need to determine guidelines for your reentry.”
I smiled; I couldn’t help it. Most of Grissom’s compliments were of the ‘good job’ nature, but this was something else entirely. It was like I had been handed the moon and stars. “Thanks,” I slightly stuttered. “Thanks so much for that Grissom.”
“You more than deserve to hear the truth, Greg. You may be quirky and more than a little wild but you are well respected in the department. Although, you did take a wrong turn, it’s not enough to undo years of trust and goodwill. I’m going to have to think things over which could take a while. I’ll call you in a few days just to touch base and see how things are going, okay?” He smiled ever so slightly. Looking at his watch, “I really should get going,” he said. “It’s long overdue for me to be getting home.”
“Even good little entomologists need their beauty sleep?” I asked with a laugh.
“Something like that – my cocoon is calling.” He pulled his wallet out, leaving a couple of bucks for the waitress.
“Hey, Gris?” I said just as he stood to leave. “How’s Nick?”
Grissom looked at me for a moment; it was like he was trying to determine what the real question was that I was asking. “He’s good, glad to be back at work I think. Of course, you could give him a call and ask him yourself.” He held out his hand, “Good to see you Greg. I’ll be in touch in a few days. Take care, all right?”
In many ways I felt like I was in the twilight zone because that was not how I thought it would go. I had counted on Grissom being upset, perhaps even angry at me. If it was Brass, he would have torn me a new one before and/or after arresting me on the spot. Although, in some ways it was a typical Grissom response – unexpected. Of course, he could also be a pod person…
“More coffee?” the waitress asked.
“No thanks.” Six cups was a pretty good limit for me. Quietly, I paid the bill and left. It felt much later than it was or maybe I was merely feeling old at the moment. But the day had hours to go before the sunset. The air felt cool – cooler than Vegas usually would in winter, yet it was still sixty-some-odd degrees according to the bank sign. For whatever reason I decided to say ‘fuck it’ to anything that might have needed my attention and drive out into the desert. I hit the first gas station I saw to fill up and get some bottles of water, then headed out on I-15 until I’d left everyone and everything behind. Laying a blanket on the hood, I slathered on some sunscreen, put my iPod on, and closed my eyes in my version of meditation.
The sun was just beginning to set when I decided to rejoin the world. The sky turned its molten hues. My skin had darkened with just the faintest touch of pink and I was parched. Bottle of water in hand, I headed back to the city; the night sky chasing me the whole way. Life felt pretty damn good. I guess those hours of meditation and centering were just what I needed. I also needed to make a phone call to Nick; I owed myself that much and he would be heading to work shortly so that would keep a potentially awkward conversation short. Plus, it guaranteed I wouldn’t be waking him. At least I had the presence of mind to wait until I was walking up my stairs before calling. I refuse to be one of those assholes who talk and drive (horribly) at the same time. He answered on the second ring, “Hey, Greg.”
“Hey yourself,” and suddenly I felt like a twelve-year-old. “How are you?” We both asked simultaneously. I had to chuckle just a little bit. “I’m pretty good. How about yourself?”
“Not bad,” he replied, various clunking sounds echoing in the background.
“So… I sound like an idiot.” The command of keeping self-depreciating comments in my head must have temporarily disconnected. “I can’t believe I said that aloud.”
Nick laughed,” It happens to the best of us.” More random sounds carried across the airwaves like a band comprised of instruments made from culinary implements was trying to play in the background.
“Okay, I’ve got to ask. What are you doing?”
“Trying to make a recipe for salmon that Mum sent me; it’s just not happening though. I was hoping to get it done before the game so I could actually watch it live.”
“No work then?”
“Night off.”
Grissom, you sneaky bastard. “Nice.” Not the most articulate response, but it would do.
“Yep. So what are you up to?” He asked and then promptly swore for burning his fingers.
“Need to make dinner and probably watch TV or something. So the answer is nothing incredibly riveting, sad to say.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, but then, “You want to join me? I’ll call for pizza if you pick it up.”
He was so on. “Do you have any beer or pop? I’ll grab some if you don’t.” Today was turning out to be a very good day.
“Whatever you like man. I’ll call Papa Romeo’s and make the Greek salad I was intending for a side dish. So, I’ll see you in a bit.”
I might have done a little butt wiggle dance of joy once we hung up, might have. Of course, I would never admit it on pain of death. It was also a good thing I hadn’t made it to the top of the stairs – less distance back to the car. Luckily, the drive to Nick’s house wasn’t that far either. I felt like a kid on Christmas, completely excited and practically bouncing in anticipation. The energy vibrated around me, so of course I got stuck sitting at every traffic light. Sometimes fate is a cruel bitch, much like gravity is a harsh mistress.
Thirty-eight minutes later I was at Nick’s door having survived twelve red lights, a brief traffic jam, and a quick stop for pizza and drinks. He had the front door open before I was even out of the car. “I thought maybe you had to make the pizza yourself,” he said, chuckling softly. “Come on in, everything’s ready. We’ve got a few minutes before the game.” Being the gentleman he is, he held the door for me. Although, it might have just been preservation of the pizza and drinks.
Everything was set on the counter island beside the dinnerware and salad bowl. “So what’s tonight’s sports fest?” I asked while mentally praying it wasn’t racing.
“Pistons versus Cavs in
“Ah.” It meant nothing to me. He might have well been speaking Martian to me. The crushed red pepper and parmesan cheese he sat next to the pizza box? Now that was speaking my language. The salad looked really good; tasted good too as I filched an olive from the bowl. I grabbed a couple of slices for my plate – real! plates.
Nick put another slice on top, “You’re still too skinny,” he offered by way of explanation. I was hungry anyway. Grabbing my plate and bowl, I headed into the living room and sat them on the coffee table. Before I had turned around, he placed a beer beside them to which I nodded my thanks. We both sat on the couch, but, not beside each other; had to keep the acceptable ‘guy distance’ between us. It’s akin to the one urinal rule – if two guys are in the bathroom neither can take the urinal next to the other. A distance of one urinal must be maintained between them. It’s a very important rule. He had his section of the couch and I had mine with room for a very skinny fat man in the middle.
Once the game ended, we were off the couch and clearing dishes and beer bottles. Apparently, we were really hungry because there weren’t any leftovers. And, the food was really good. I felt guilty just putting the dinnerware in the sink; Nana Olaf had taught me to always help with the full cleanup after a meal in someone’s home. She said it was the mark of a well-mannered guest. Personally, I think she just wanted me to do the dishes; Papa Olaf merely smirked whenever I voiced that belief.
“Dishwasher’s full,” Nick remarked as I went to pull it open.
“Well,” I replied, reaching for the sink stopper. “Guess we’ll have to do them by hand.” He seemed to begin to protest but stopped and grabbed the dish rack and drip mat. “I’ll wash; you dry.” The sink filled quickly; first, with bubbles then water. I was a tad overzealous with the detergent. Nick only laughed quietly next to me. The heat of his body radiated on my skin and often the hair on his arms brushed across my arms and sleeves. Every so often our arms touched, skin sliding together smooth and yet slightly frictioned. We didn’t speak a word but I could hear the sounds of him breathing through his nose. Beneath the suds our hands met, his fingers grazing the back of my hand as he reached for another dish to rinse and dry. His hand closed around mine wrapped around the handle of a fork. It seemed like there was the faintest of squeezes before I reluctantly let go. I might have imagined it, but his fingertips grazed across my knuckles almost like a caress. Nick opened the cupboard above the sink, standing right behind me to put some of the place-settings away. He was almost pressed up against my back; I could feel the lightest press of his chest to my shoulder blades. Then, his hand touched my shoulder tracing the curve of my neck. I shuddered when his lips landed in the arc where neck and shoulder meet. His arms wrapped around my waist while his mouth did obscene things to my earlobe.
Oh he did not. His hand rested on my shoulder to give him balance as he stretched on his toes to put the bowls away. The horny adolescent side of my brain only wished he started doing obscene things with his mouth. “Sorry,” he murmured once the cupboard was closed. I only smiled.
With the bowls put away, all the dishes were done. Any reason for me to hang around disappeared in a gurgle with the dishwater down the drain. “So… Uh, I should get going. You probably want to get to bed soon so you can grab a few extra Z’s.”
“Yeah, a couple extra hours would be good. I’ll probably lose a few in a day or two anyway so I might as well make them up now,” Nick replied with a soft chuckle.
Slowly, we made our way to the door, pausing for me to grab my keys off the table. “Thanks for having me over,” I said feeling awkward in that do-I-kiss-the-girl-even-though-her-father-is-standing-behind-the-door-high-school-date sort of way.
“Thanks for keeping me company.”
Awk-ward with a capital A. What made it suck was that he is one of my closest friends. I’m not supposed to feel this uncomfortable with friends. People I’m meeting for the first time? Yes, as well as parents of significant others, but not friends. After a few minutes of silence, I opened my mouth to speak and he pulled me into a hug.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
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no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-07 05:10 am (UTC)Now, Nick just needs to start doing those things for real now...