Quick review: De Amazone - J. Ritzerfeld

Title: De Amazone
Author: J. Ritzerfeld
Genre: Stories
Pages: Paperback 166
Language: Dutch
Rating: 5/10
Short summary and opinion: Three stories in non-chronological order about 40-something(?) Spencer and the women in his life. Fragments, incoherent thoughts and a few rather graphic decriptions of sex. I was not impressed. Spencer (or the author) can pretend to be a nobel man all he wants, but using big words and presenting his story in a non-linear way doesn't change the fact that he acts like a pompous pervert. But he feels like a big man because he is apparently pleasing all these younger women and his wife lets him. Whatever.
Curious? You can have my copy. His books are not available anymore. I can see why.

FANFIC: Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders (And One That Did) by Caroline Crane

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders (And One That Did) by Caroline Crane
Rating: PG13 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: Four different looks at how things could have gone after the explosion, followed by what actually happened. Really.
Warnings: Contains het, character death, and Greg/other along with the usual Greg/Nick.

I.

Nobody had seen this coming. Greg was positive none of them had seen it coming, because if they had he would have heard about it. Maybe back when he was still a lab tech he would have been out of the loop – back then he might not even have gotten an invitation – but now he was one of them. For over a year he'd been one of them, and just before the wedding he'd been promoted to level two.

His own triumph had been a little overshadowed by Warrick and Catherine, but he didn't really mind. It was enough that he was really part of the team now, that they'd all accepted him. And somewhere along the way he'd learned what it really meant to be part of a team, so he was happy for Catherine and Warrick.

He grinned along with the rest of the guests when someone tapped their glass, forcing Catherine and Warrick to kiss for what must have been the hundredth time that night. And it felt like the entire lab had turned out for the wedding, but Greg knew they hadn't shut it down so somebody had to be minding the shop.

Across the room he spotted Nick leaning against a wall, head bent in a private conversation with Bobby from Ballistics. He never would have seen that coming, but Nick seemed happy and that was good enough for him. It seemed to be good enough for everybody else, too; at least Greg hadn't heard anybody around the lab talking about it.

He scanned the rest of the room, his expression softening when he spotted a familiar face near the head table. Unconsciously straightening his jacket as he stood up, he threaded his way through the other guests until he caught up to Sara. "Here's to the most beautiful bridesmaid in the room," he said, handing her a glass of champagne as he raised his own to toast her. Her wary expression softened just slightly as she reached for the glass, but he'd gotten to know her well enough over the past year to read her expressions, and he knew that was as close as she ever got to actually looking flattered.

She held his gaze for another long moment before abruptly turning to watch Warrick and Catherine. "What do you think their chances are?"

"Well," he answered, drawing out his words as though he'd been giving this very matter a lot of thought, "working together, that makes it tough. But Warrick's a tough guy, so if anybody can handle Cath it's him. Besides, they've got the home field advantage."

"Home field advantage?" She turned toward him again, raising one eyebrow in a silent challenge.

"Yeah, you know. They both grew up here, and in Vegas knowing your roots goes a long way. Take you and me, for example. We're both from California, right away we've got that in common. Marriages in Vegas have been built on a lot less."

She was giving him that look that clearly said she thought he was crazy, but he'd learned to recognize the amusement in her eyes. "So you're saying…what? We have home field advantage?"

He shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly. "Well, I was talking about Mr. and Mrs. Brown there, but now that you mention it…"

They'd been doing this for as long as he could remember, going back and forth, skirting the edges of a full-blown flirtation. For a long time he figured he didn't stand a chance, but after a few months as a CSI he'd figured out that the key with Sara was taking it slow. It was hard for him not to reach out and take something he wanted, to joke and flirt and tease her into giving in, but after the explosion he'd had to learn how to be patient. He'd nearly driven himself crazy trying to rush his recovery, but in the end he'd figured out that the only way to heal was to give himself time. The same logic applied to Sara, and she was definitely worth the wait.

For a few moments they stood in silence and watched Warrick spin Lindsey around the dance floor, but when he let her go and swept Catherine back into his arms Sara turned to Greg again. "You know, growing up in the same area code doesn't mean we have anything in common."

He shrugged again and inclined his head in the direction of the dance floor. "Never know until we try. Besides, it worked for Catherine and Warrick."

For a second she just looked at him, but just as he was beginning to think he'd taken the joke too far her features shifted into a small smile. "I guess a dance couldn't hurt. For starters."

"For starters," he repeated, grinning as he took her and and led her onto the dance floor.

II.

He'd been hoping to be done by the time the night shift started, but he'd been in Vegas for a long time and as it turned out he'd managed to collect a lot of stuff in the lab over the years. Part of him was tempted to leave it all behind, to let the next flunkie deal with the mess. He couldn't bring himself to walk away, though, mostly because leaving meant it was finally over.

It was hard to believe any of this stuff had survived the explosion; some of it hadn't, like the CDs that were permanently melted to a drawer inside the wreck of what used to be the DNA lab. Other things had survived; things that really shouldn't have, like his textbooks from Berkeley and a plastic key chain in the shape of a surfboard that one of his friends had sent to remind him of what he was missing in California.

Well, he wouldn't have to miss it for much longer, because soon he'd be staring at the ocean again and the desert would be a distant memory.

The door opened but he didn't look up; he was determined not to let anyone see how much this was getting to him, especially not Grissom. He knew Gris felt bad about having to let him go, but that didn't make it any easier to leave. It didn't make the situation any less unfair, and it didn't make him any less angry that a stupid accident had cost him his dreams.

"Hey, man. What are you doing?"

Nick, and from the sounds of it Grissom hadn't bothered to spread the word yet. Not that he had any reason to, Greg reminded himself bitterly. It wasn't like anyone would really notice once he was gone.

"Just cleaning out my desk," Greg answered, the bitterness evident in his voice.

"Wait…what?"

He looked up at Nick, smiling grimly at the other man's confused expression. "I'm outta here. Night shift's gonna have to find another whipping boy, because I'm not the right man for the job."

"Why?"

Greg held up his hand, watching it shake for a few seconds before he lowered it again and gripped the edge of the table in front of him. "Can't do my job if I can't even hold onto a sample, can I?"

"Jesus," Nick murmured, his voice low and shocked and if Greg didn't know better, he might have thought Nick sounded a little sad. "I'm sorry, man, I guess I didn't notice."

"Yeah, that was the idea," Greg answered, turning back to the last few books he hadn't packed up yet.

"But they can't just fire you, can they? I mean can't you go for physical therapy or something?"

"The doctor says it's nerve damage. It might stop someday, but Grissom doesn't want to keep me on the payroll while I wait. They need somebody who can process evidence, and I'm damaged goods now."

"They can't just fire you," Nick said again, more forcefully this time. Greg could hear the rest of his sentence even though Nick didn't say it out loud: They can't just fire you after you got hurt on the job. They can't just throw you away like you don't even matter. Only they could, and that was exactly what they were going to do. He didn't have an answer for Nick; he'd been wondering the same thing since Grissom gave him the news, trying to figure out how they could just cut him loose after Catherine had caused the explosion that left him so damaged. He hadn't been able to come up with an answer he could live with, so he'd stopped thinking about it at all.

"Doesn't matter," he finally said, still carefully not looking at Nick as he loaded the last of his books into the box with shaking hands. "Vegas is getting a little old anyway. Plus, the surfing's lousy."

Something else he'd probably never do again.

"So you're just leaving? Does Grissom know?"

Greg looked up at that, his features twisting into a scowl for a moment before all the fight rushed out of him again. "It doesn't matter, Nick. There's nothing for me here. I came to Vegas because of this job, now that it's over there's no reason to stay."

"Come on, man, of course there is."

He knew Nick was trying to help, that he was doing that Nick thing where he tried to make everything better. Greg wanted to tell him that there was no way it could ever be better, because all he'd ever wanted was to be part of the team and now that was never going to happen. He had a feeling that if anyone would understand that it would be Nick, but there was no way he was going to ask Nick for pity. He didn't even want it, not really. What he wanted was to go back in time and figure out a way to be anywhere but inside that lab when it blew.

"Forget it," he said, sparing Nick a quick glance as he spoke. "It's done, I leave this afternoon."

"So that's it," Nick said, his voice flat and for a second Greg could almost believe he really cared. "You're just leaving, just like that?"

"Just like that," Greg echoed, his voice falsely cheerful as he lifted the box and struggled not to drop it. "Look, man, I appreciate the concern, but I gotta go."

"Wait," Nick called after him as Greg headed for the hallway. He could hear Nick behind him but he didn't slow down; the last thing he wanted to do was drag this out, not even with Nick. The other man seemed determined to have his say, though, and Greg knew there was no way he could outrun him. "Can I…give you a lift or something?"

And God, what he wouldn't have given to hear that pleading tone in Nick's voice just a few weeks ago, back before his entire life turned upside down. But now he knew what it was, and he wasn't about to play victim to Nick's latest crusade to do the right thing. 'Thanks, but I've got it covered."

Nick nodded and Greg took that as a sign that he was finally going to let it go. He swallowed a surge of disappointment and shifted the box in his arms, pausing long enough to glance back at Nick. "So I guess I'll see you around."

"Listen, Greg…" Nick paused and looked down at the ground, letting out a frustrated sigh before he looked up again. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Greg nodded and shouldered the door open, not glancing back to see if Nick stayed to watch him walk away.

III.

His name was Tim, but everybody called him Speed. At first Greg had thought that was kind of funny, but then he'd actually showed up and Greg stopped laughing. He couldn't even remember what he'd found so amusing in the first place, because Tim Speedle was quiet and gentle but so smart that he just sort of radiated intelligence. It made Greg a little nervous at first, but once he got past feeling threatened all he really wanted to do was find out as much as he could about Speedle before he was gone again.

They only had three days – three days in which Tim was actually leading a panel on fiber analysis at the forensics convention – and then it was back to Miami for Tim and back to his same monotonous routine for Greg. Three days, and Greg wasted the first trying to put together an opening line that wouldn't totally humiliate him.

He never did come up with one, but in the end it didn't matter, because Tim himself marched right over after a panel on DNA analysis, stuck out his hand, and said, "Vegas, right? Tim Speedle, Miami."

Tim's hands were warm and a little rough, strong but not too strong, and Greg had to work hard not to imagine them on other parts of his body. "Greg Sanders."

"I saw you at my fiber symposium," Tim said, holding on to Greg's hand just a second or two longer than necessary. "You a CSI?"

"DNA tech," Greg answered, hoping Tim wouldn't hold that against him. "But I've been out in the field a few times."

Tim nodded as though that was perfectly reasonable, and Greg reminded himself to breathe again. "I do a little of both myself. To tell you the truth, sometimes I prefer the lab. At least the evidence doesn't talk back."

Greg knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't seem to stop and anyway, Tim didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was already caught up in a monologue about advances in DNA technology, and Greg found himself working hard to keep up enough not to embarrass himself. It was nice to talk to someone who actually understood what he did every night in the lab, and he found himself wishing that Tim worked in the Vegas lab just so he'd have someone to talk to.

He wasn't sure who suggested dinner, but it seemed like a natural progression and before he knew it he was leading Tim out of the hotel and across the Strip to a restaurant with the 'decent seafood' Tim had been missing since he left Miami. Their dinner conversation consisted mostly of shop talk, but Greg discovered that behind that gentle smile Tim had a sense of humor. One hour stretched into two stretched into three, until finally it was after ten and Vegas was starting to come alive.

"Guess I should head back," Tim said as he paid the check that Greg hadn't been fast enough to get. "Early day tomorrow."

Greg nodded, swallowing an unreasonable surge of disappointment. He didn't want the night to end, but Tim didn't really strike him as the nightlife type. Greg still hadn't figured out if the other man was interested or if he was just looking for somebody to talk DNA and fiber samples with, and he wasn't sure he was going to find out.

As they headed back to the hotel he started to mumble something about going home and getting a good night's sleep for once, but when they reached the lobby Tim nodded toward the elevator and asked if he wanted to come up. So maybe it had been a date after all, but Tim made everything feel so natural that Greg didn't really stop to wonder if he was misreading signals. Instead he followed Tim into the elevator and up to the seventeenth floor, then down a hallway and into a nice – if a little modest by Vegas standards – hotel room.

Their first kiss was as gentle as Tim's voice, and when Tim began undressing him Greg got the distinct feeling he was being worshipped. Tim's hands were as strong and warm on Greg's skin as he'd expected, and when he saw the scars on Greg's back for the first time Greg forgot to be self-conscious. He told Tim about the explosion in breathy whispers as the other man traced the marks on his back with fingers and mouth, and when Greg came he couldn't help whispering Tim's name as though they'd been lovers for ages.

It wasn't Greg's first one night stand, but it was the first time he'd slept with someone he sort of worked with. Only there were more slow kisses while he pulled his clothes back on, then promises to meet again tomorrow night, and suddenly it wasn't a one night stand anymore. Greg wasn't sure what the precedent was for two-night stands with lab rats from southern Florida, but he'd never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tim seemed to like his company, anyway, and that was a lot more than he could say for the Vegas CSIs lately. And he wasn't going to get his hopes up, but he'd never been to Florida before.

IV.

He'd gone through every single 'what if' a thousand times. He'd played the explosion over and over in his mind, trying to find a way to blame himself. But in the end he couldn't even do that, so he was left blaming Greg for being dedicated to his job when he could have been goofing off in the break room or even down the hall flirting with that shy girl in Trace. Nick would have forgiven Greg that – would have forgiven him anything – just as long as he wasn't standing right at the center of the blast.

He didn't know if it would have made him feel better to know Greg hadn't suffered. Not that he wanted Greg to suffer; nightmares of those last few painful hours of Greg's life woke him up practically every night, drenched in sweat and sobbing and on the verge of begging a God he hadn't prayed to in years just to let him take Greg's place. He knew Greg wouldn't want that, but nothing would have stopped him from trading places with Greg if he could.

Things like that didn't happen in the real world, though, so all he had to hold on to was the memory of a few, blissful months of Greg in his bed. They didn't have even close to enough time, and that Nick could blame himself for because he was the one who'd been blind and stupid and had taken too long to open his eyes.

Nobody at work had known about them until After, and Nick wasn't sure if it was harder or easier that way. He was glad Greg didn't have to see the awkward looks from Sara or the cold suspicion from Warrick; he could handle it, but Greg was a lot more sensitive than he liked to let on and Nick knew it would bother him. Nobody knew how to act around him now that they'd heard about him and Greg, but sometimes he thought it was better that they just avoided him. He didn't really know what to say to make them more comfortable, and he was too busy being mad at Greg to worry about how they felt.

He took leave to go to California for the funeral and spent three uncomfortable nights sleeping in Greg's old bed after Greg's mother insisted he stay with them. He spent most of the trip feeling guilty because Greg's parents seemed to know all about him, and his own family didn't even know where he was. His family wouldn't understand, but Greg's family did, and sometimes when he thought about Mrs. Sanders' pleas for him to keep in touch he almost believed he would. He was the only tie she had to her son now, so maybe he owed her that much. He knew he owed Greg that and more.

Going back to work was hard, but staying home surrounded by memories of their life together was even harder, so he forced himself to get out of bed and threw himself into whatever case he happened to be working. Grissom had tried to talk him into taking a few days off when he got back from San Francisco, but more time off meant too much time to think and he didn't want to think.

He knew Grissom meant well, but Gris was…well, Gris. And it wasn't fair, because the one person he could talk to about it he couldn't even stand to look at. He felt guilty for feeling sick every time he heard Catherine's name, but that didn't erase the fact that she was the one who caused the explosion. She was the one who took Greg from him – from his parents and his friends and everything he wanted to do with his life – and even though he knew it was just an accident Nick couldn't let it go.

He wasn't angry. Not at Catherine, at least not any angrier than he was with himself. The problem was that he just couldn't look at her without remembering, and remembering hurt way too much.

He couldn't think about the explosion without remembering countless hours spent sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, making bargains with God just to spare Greg's life, just to give them a little more time. But in the end all the doctors could do was make him as comfortable as possible, and Nick wasn't even sure Greg knew he'd been there, holding his hand when he died.

And he'd held on so tight, but in the end he couldn't hold on tight enough to keep Greg from slipping away. So he could blame himself for that, and even though he knew there was nothing he could have done, it made him feel a little better to blame himself for something. He wished he could take the blame for the accident, because he saw the guilt in Catherine's eyes and he knew how hard it was for her to carry.

He'd seen it the night he got back from California, when she'd showed up on his doorstep looking for absolution. Or maybe she'd been looking for Nick to blame her, to yell at her and tell her how much he hated her for taking Greg from him. But in the end all he could do was look down at the ground as he told her to go home, and when he closed the door she'd still been standing there, looking just as lost as he felt.

V.

The music was too loud for Greg to hear the door open, but when he felt a hand land on his shoulder he flinched and looked up. Nick was grinning as he reached around Greg to turn the stereo down to a respectable level, and Greg swallowed a gasp at the brush of Nick's arm against his still-sensitive back.

"Hey," Nick said as he straightened up again, "how's it going?"

Greg couldn't count the number of times he'd heard that same question over the past few hours, but coming from Nick it didn't sound as hollow or awkward as it had from everyone else. "I'm okay," he answered, shrugging his shoulders experimentally just to see if it was true. "Not exactly a hundred percent yet, but it's my first day back. They say once all the burns finish healing I should be back to normal."

Nick nodded as though he'd actually been worried about it, and for some reason that made Greg feel instantly better. "Good to hear. You had everybody pretty scared for awhile there."

"Well, you know how I like to liven up the party. Things were starting to get a little stale around here."

Nick grinned at that, but a second later his smile faded and he took a half-step forward. "Seriously, G. I'm glad you're okay. When I saw you lying there…"

He trailed off and for a second Greg thought he was actually going to cry or something, but then Nick cleared his throat and forced another smile. "It's good to have you back."

"It would take a lot more than that to get rid of me," Greg said, keeping his voice light in an attempt to set Nick at ease. It was bad enough that everyone else on the night shift was tiptoeing around him, he didn't think he could take that from Nick. He wasn't sure why Nick was suddenly acting so nervous; he'd never really been the type to find himself at a loss for words, and even though they were friends Greg had never let himself believe it could be anything more than that.

But when Nick looked up Greg suddenly wasn't so sure, and when the other man started to back away Greg reached out without thinking to stop him. "Wait a second."

"I gotta get back," Nick said, but he didn't try to pull out of Greg's grip. "Gris is about to hand out assignments."

"If there's one thing I learned while I was lying in that hospital bed, it's that life's way too short to let the moment pass you by." Greg only half heard what he was saying; he knew he was feeding Nick a line, and a pretty corny one at that, but the thing was that he meant it. He wasn't just going to let Nick walk out without something, but until he leaned forward and pressed their lips together even Greg didn't know what he was going to do.

He expected the kiss to be chaste; he expected Nick to put up with it for a second or two out of either shock or politeness before he pushed Greg away and started stumbling over some excuse. He'd even expected the startled yelp when their lips met, but what he hadn't seen coming was the hand sliding into his hair or the tongue teasing his mouth open. He didn't expect to find himself dazed and breathless a few endless moments later, barely remembering to catch himself before his sore back collided with the edge of the lab station.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there staring at each other, but sometime after time ground completely to a halt Nick cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder as though he was expecting to find the entire night shift watching them. "I…uh…I really should get back."

Greg nodded, his mind racing for something to say that would make things right between them again. When he'd kissed Nick it had seemed like exactly the thing to do, and when Nick had kissed him back he'd assumed he'd been right. But now…now Nick had that deer in headlights look, like he wasn't sure whether to mumble an apology or just bolt without another word. Greg's heart sank as Nick glanced over his shoulder again, and he almost wished the other man would skip the apology and just go.

But before he had time to start feeling sorry for himself Nick was moving forward again, grabbing Greg's arm gently to pull him forward. He planted a quick, firm kiss on the corner of Greg's mouth before he let go. "Later," Nick hissed, and Greg knew that was more a promise than a suggestion.

He grinned as Nick let go of him and began backing toward the door. "I'll be here all night," he called after the other man, laughing at the groan that echoed back to him from the hallway.

Fin

(But if you liked this, one of these is continued in All The Way To Paris...)

FANFIC: All The Way To Paris by Caroline Crane

Posted in four parts*: All the Way to Paris by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: This is an AU that starts at the end of season three and then breaks off from canon. If you've read "Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders" the beginning will seem familiar -- it starts with one of the four AU storylines from that fic and then explores what could have happened if the show had ever dealt with the lasting effects of Greg's injuries.

part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04
*An additon to this universe - August 2008: Yesterday's Notions

FANFIC: Yesterday's Notions

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: Yesterday's Notions by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary:There's no better time to grow up. You can consider this post-All the Way to Paris fic, if you want. Written for rabidfan.
Warnings: This is sort of baby fic, if you are adverse to that sort of thing. Not really, but sort of.

Follows All The Way To Paris:part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04


Nick checked his watch for the third time in less than a minute. He reached up to adjust his tie, then he stood up, peered down the hall, and sat back down again. When he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his palms on his thighs, Greg couldn’t resist reaching out to close a hand on his knee.

"Relax."

"I’m fine," Nick said, but he glanced at his watch again anyway. "What’s taking so long?"

"You know how bureaucrats are," Greg answered. "Always running late."

"You don’t think it’s a bad sign, do you? I mean, what if they’re in there talking about what bad parents we’d be?"

"They’re not," Greg said, and the thing was, he was pretty sure he was right. Everything so far had gone right on plan – the home visits, the interviews, even the psych evals – and there was no reason for Nick to be working himself up at this point. Greg was positive they were going to go in there and sign the final papers any minute now, and that was the part that had been keeping him up nights.

Because in a few minutes they’d be signing on the dotted line and promising to be responsible for another life for…well, forever. They’d be picking up their kid – their kid – for the last time, and that would be it. They’d be a family, and Greg would never get a decent night’s sleep again.

"Hey, you okay?" Nick asked, his hand covering Greg’s and he realized he was gripping Nick’s knee hard.

"Yeah," Greg answered, willing his fingers to relax until they slid between Nick’s. And he was okay; he was more than okay. He had a great job, a great husband, a great life. His life was better than he’d ever let himself hope for, and now he was going to be a dad too. But there was no guarantee he could be a great parent, no matter what the social workers said.

Sure, they’d had some practice. Benji had been their foster kid for awhile now, but somehow this made it all seem so much more…permanent. And they’d both messed up before, but it had never really mattered until now.

He hadn’t said anything to Nick. They’d both been on edge lately, but for different reasons. Nick was still half-convinced that somehow the state of California was going to change their mind about gay rights just because they’d applied to adopt a kid nobody else wanted. He didn’t seem all that worried about what happened if the adoption actually went through; what happened when Benji got sick and they didn’t know what to do about it, or if he got in a fight or failed English or something. Nick seemed to think they could handle all that stuff, but Greg wasn’t so sure.

Most of the time he still felt like a kid himself, and hanging out with Benji was more like fun than responsibility. But that was all about to change, and what if Greg wasn’t any good at being somebody’s dad?

As soon as he thought it a door down the hall opened, and a second later Nick’s hand tightened around his. And now he knew that he definitely wasn’t ready, because his heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear their case worker when she stepped into the hall and announced that it was time. He let Nick pull him to his feet and took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down.

"You ready for this?" Nick asked, and for the first time since they’d arrived at the courthouse, he was smiling.

"No."

Nick stopped just outside the courtroom door and reached out, resting a hand on the back of Greg’s neck in that way he used to do back when he was first trying to convince Greg they could make a relationship work long distance. And in the end Greg had been right about the long distance part, but it didn’t make the weight on his skin any less comforting. "G, we can do this."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive," Nick answered, and there went that grin again. "Trust me, you’re going to make a great dad."

And Greg wasn’t nearly as confident about that, but he knew Nick would make a great father, and he figured one out of two was better than nothing.

FANFIC: All The Way To Paris by Caroline Crane 4/4

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: All the Way to Paris by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: This is an AU that starts at the end of season three and then breaks off from canon. If you've read "Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders" the beginning will seem familiar -- it starts with one of the four AU storylines from that fic and then explores what could have happened if the show had ever dealt with the lasting effects of Greg's injuries.

Chapters:part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04
An additon to this universe - August 2008: Yesterday's Notions

Part Four

His hands hadn't trembled once since Nick showed up, but now that they were sitting across from each other in a public place and Nick was looking at him with that intense, determined expression Greg felt like his whole body was shaking. He felt like he might fly apart just from the weight of Nick's gaze, even though he knew it wasn't physically possible. There was a first time for everything, after all, and if working at the crime lab had taught him anything, it was to expect the unexpected.

They'd managed to avoid the conversation Greg knew was coming for most of Saturday. They'd even managed to leave the apartment long enough for Greg to give Nick a tour of campus, and eventually they found themselves in a booth at the back of a diner not far from Greg's place. He knew they were going to have to talk – that was the whole reason Nick had flown to California in the first place – but he wasn't looking forward to it, and he'd been hoping to avoid it at least until tomorrow.

He waited until the waitress took their order and walked away, watching out of the corner of his eye until he was sure she was gone. "I think she likes you."

"Who?"

"The waitress, what's her name? Debbie? Donna?" And okay, they both knew he was just putting off the inevitable, but Nick couldn't blame him for trying. They still had another whole day together before Nick had to go back to Vegas, and as far as he was concerned conversation could wait.

"I wasn't listening," Nick answered. "Anyway, she's not my type."

"What's wrong with her?" Greg asked, glancing toward the front of the restaurant in time to catch her looking over at them. "Too short? Too blonde. It's not because she waits tables, is it?"

Nick laughed and reached across the table, catching Greg's hand and threading their fingers together. It wasn't the first time he'd ever touched Greg in front of other people – there had been plenty of seemingly innocent touches when they were still working together, and then there was the whole making out in the airport parking lot thing. That had taken Greg by surprise; he'd always figured Nick for the private type, but holding hands in a public restaurant definitely wasn't discreet.

"She's not you, for one thing."

He was tempted to make a joke about Nick's hidden romantic side, but there was a part of him that worried if he made fun of it Nick would stop. He might even let go of Greg's hand, and even though he'd never admit it, he kind of liked the fact that Nick was willing to touch him in front of other people. It made him wonder if things would be different if they were still in Vegas. He'd never know for sure how they would have juggled work and a personal life if he'd stayed, but then again, if he'd stayed Nick might never have gotten around to doing anything about the way he felt.

"Look, G, there are some things I need to say."

And he'd known this was coming, but it still made his stomach clench to hear Nick say the words. He wasn't even sure what he was so nervous about; he knew what Nick was going to say, and he knew it wasn't going to change anything. If he thought it would work he'd cut Nick off, tell him he already knew and there was no point in saying it out loud. But this was the whole point of the weekend, so instead he just pulled his hand out of Nick's and nodded.

"I know you don't want to talk about going back to Vegas. I know…no, just hear me out," he said when Greg opened his mouth to interrupt. "I want this to work, and I think you do too. If we have to do this long-distance until you're ready I'll live with it. But you can't expect me to stop wanting you around."

"So you're just going to hang around and wait for me to decide I can't live without you." He hadn't really meant the words to come out like that, but he didn't want to take them back. It was the truth; Nick did expect him to change his mind and go running back to Vegas eventually, and the only real question was how long he was willing to wait.

"That's not what I meant," Nick answered, but they both knew it was. "I love you. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

He'd expected hearing the words out loud to make him feel different somehow, but they didn't change anything. They were still stuck in an impossible situation, and unless Greg gave in and moved back to Vegas he didn't see how it was going to change.

"So I'm supposed to grovel to Grissom for my job just on the off chance things work out with us? What happens if they don't?" Guilt shot through him when Nick winced and looked away; he knew this wasn't how Nick had been expecting this conversation to go, and part of him wanted to take it all back. He wanted to forget about the logistics and just enjoy the fact that Nick loved him, but he knew that as soon as Nick was back in Vegas their problems would start all over again.

"Look," he said, reaching out to brush his fingers across Nick's knuckles, "I'm just saying 'what if'. You can't say for sure that you'll still want me around in a year."

When Greg touched him Nick looked at him again, his mouth set in a determined line and just for a second Greg wanted to agree to whatever Nick asked. "We've known each other for five years. I'm sure."

He wanted to believe it; it was easy when Nick looked so sure, so determined to convince Greg that this was what he wanted. But that didn't change the fact that it had taken Greg leaving town for Nick to do anything about the way he felt, and it didn't change the fact that Greg had just signed a lease and started living his life again.

"Look," Nick said when Greg didn't answer, his hand closing over Greg's again to squeeze gently before he let go, "we don't have to decide anything now. I just wanted you to know that I'm not screwing around here."

Nick leaned back in the booth and smiled, but even though he was trying not to show it Greg caught the hint of worry in his expression. Guilt shot through him and he wished suddenly that he'd just said 'I love you too' and kept his mouth shut about the future, but it was too late for that now. He'd missed his moment, and now they were going to spend the rest of the weekend with this conversation hanging over them. He knew they'd both try to ignore it, to pretend nothing had changed and they were still working it out, but it would still be there between them.

Just a few months ago he would have given anything to hear Nick say he wanted Greg, let alone that he loved him. There was a time when he would have settled for casual, because he'd always assumed that was what Nick was about. Everybody at the lab always joked about Nick's commitment issues and Greg had never expected to be the exception to that rule. Now that he was…now that Nick was offering an actual commitment Greg wasn't sure he could believe it. He wasn't even sure he wanted it, because saying yes meant giving in and going back to a life he'd already left behind.

~

Nick’s hands slid down Greg's back, thumbs pressing along either side of his spine until he found that spot that made Greg gasp and arch back into his touch. His mouth followed the path of his hands, soft kisses followed by gentle nips that made Greg shudder against him. He was taking his time, methodically mapping every inch of Greg, and he’d never admit it, but they both knew exactly what he was doing.

He didn’t want to believe that this was it, that he’d never get another chance to touch Greg or kiss him or even say those words he hadn’t said to anyone since college. Neither of them wanted to admit that this might be the last time, but still Nick was committing every touch, every breath and every contented murmur to memory. He just wanted to hold on to these few days together because he didn't know when it would happen again. It didn't mean this was the end, but he'd used up all his vacation time and if Greg wouldn't come to Vegas it might be awhile before they saw each other.

It wasn't the end of anything – Nick didn't want it to be, and he knew Greg didn't either. If he did Nick wouldn't be in his bed right now, kissing a hot trail down the side of his hip. He was the one who'd called Nick, after all, when Nick had finally decided to take a hint and give up on Greg entirely. And maybe he would have changed his mind eventually and called Greg himself, but he hadn't and that meant something. It meant Greg wanted this as much as Nick did, that he didn't want to let it go no matter how hard it was to work out the logistics.

They hadn't talked about it since their conversation in the diner. They hadn't talked about much of anything since they made it back to Greg's apartment, not about what they were doing or where they went from here or even what to do with the rest of their time together. It was Sunday night already and they'd barely gotten out of bed all day – they hadn't talked about that either, but they both knew Nick would be going home tomorrow and somehow they'd agreed not to waste any time without ever saying it out loud.

His hand slid between Greg's thighs, thumb stroking the taut skin just behind Greg's balls. Greg gasped and splayed his legs apart, pushing his hips up until Nick's thumb pressed inside him. And that wasn't the sign of somebody who didn't want this, of someone who was just biding his time until Nick was out of his life. No, this was Greg wanting him -- wanting Nick and nobody else. He'd already admitted that he wasn't seeing anybody else, and Nick wanted that to mean that there was still a chance he'd change his mind about Vegas.

He wanted to believe a lot of things – that Greg loved him too, that this thing between them meant more to Greg than his pride. He wanted to believe that Greg would change his mind eventually, and yeah, maybe he was just waiting for the day that Greg would decide he couldn't live without Nick. Nick didn't really think that was so much to ask, especially when he already knew he didn't want to live without Greg.

Greg shifted under him and let out a low moan, pushing back against his hand hard enough to get Nick's attention. Nick knew what he was asking for, but he wanted to make it last as long as he could. He wanted to draw this out all night if possible, or maybe just make Greg want it so much that he was begging by the time Nick finally slid inside him. That thought made his cock twitch, but he ignored his own need and pulled his hand away from Greg, leaning over him to press his mouth to the side of Greg's neck.

He licked a path along hot skin, pausing to press another kiss to the top of Greg's shoulder before he moved down his back. It had taken him awhile during that first weekend to get used to the sight of Greg's scars; he'd spent too much time tracing them with his fingers, reassuring himself over and over that Greg was fine. Now they were just another part of Greg, just something else for Nick to remember when he was on the plane headed home.

His heart caught in his throat at the thought, but he swallowed hard and did his best to ignore it, focusing all his attention on the warm expanse of skin underneath him. He'd never get tired of watching Greg shift restlessly under his touch, always pressing back for more even when Nick's hands gripped his hips to hold him to the mattress. He loved just watching Greg move – he never realized just how much until he couldn't see Greg every day at work, and now that he'd seen Greg like this he couldn't imagine going back to not knowing.

It was impossible, because even if he wanted to forget he knew he wouldn't be able to. No matter what Greg decided Nick wasn't going to stop wanting him, wanting him around and wondering what he could have done to keep things from getting this far out of control. He wasn't really blaming himself – not anymore – but he couldn't stop himself from feeling sort of…helpless. It should have been easy to fix their problems, but so far Greg had shot down every idea Nick came up with, and he wasn't sure what else to do.

Greg shifted under him again, pushing back and then turning in Nick's grip until they were face to face. Just for a second Nick could see everything Greg hadn't said in his eyes, then he reached up and pulled Nick down for a hard kiss, and Nick could feel what he wasn't saying.

"Love you," he murmured against Greg's mouth, the sound lost in the kiss as Greg rocked up against him, hands gripping him hard enough to bruise as he struggled to pull Nick closer. And just like that all his plans to take it slow were forgotten; it was all he could do to hold on long enough to reach for a condom before he was kneeling between Greg's legs, hands under his hips to line them up before he slid inside. He'd lost count of how many times they'd done this, but he still had to struggle to catch his breath when Greg's legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him in even further.

He choked back a harsh moan and started moving, hands braced against the mattress on either side of Greg's chest. Greg surged up to meet each thrust, his head back and his lips parted and God, Nick was never going to be able to leave. He couldn't get on that plane knowing that as soon as he was gone Greg would start looking for ways to talk himself out of this. He couldn't just leave, not when they hadn't really settled anything.

So far all they'd really proven was that they were compatible in bed, and that didn't prove that they'd be good together for the long haul. It felt like enough, though, and Nick knew plenty of people who'd based relationships on a lot less. He couldn't remember ever wanting anything to work as much as he wanted this, anyway, and that had to count for something.

Way too soon he was panting and thrusting harder, Greg's voice in his ear urging him to move faster and faster until all he could hear was the blood pounding against his eardrums. He wasn't sure which of them lost control first, but when he tensed and buried himself deep inside Greg he felt wet heat hit his chest and then Greg's arms on his back to pull him close. He turned his face into Greg's neck, pressing breathless, almost desperate kisses to sweat-slick skin.

A hand slid through his hair, tightening just enough to pull him up until he was facing Greg. For a second he thought Greg might actually say some of the things he'd been avoiding since yesterday, but a second later he surged up to press their lips together again. Nick told himself it was okay. He didn't need to hear the words – he already knew how Greg felt, and hearing it out loud wouldn't really make a difference.

"I'm not giving up," he said when Greg let him up for air. As soon as he said it he wondered if he was pushing too hard again, but they didn't have much time left and he couldn't go home without something.

"I know." Nick expected him to sound annoyed, maybe even a little angry, but instead Greg just sounded resigned. "I know how stubborn you are."

Nick grinned at that, reaching up to push a few damp strands of hair away from Greg's forehead. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Well it can get kind of annoying," Greg answered, the corners of his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed grin, "but I've had a few years to get used to it."

Nick rolled his eyes and shifted until he was lying on his side next to Greg, their shoulders pressed together and the mess on his stomach starting to dry. He knew he should get up and wash up a little, but the last thing he wanted to do was get out of Greg's bed. "I thought it was part of my charm."

"Depends who you ask."

He glanced over to find Greg smiling, all traces of tension gone for the first time since Nick got off the plane. His heart clenched hard in his chest and for a second he couldn't move – he couldn't speak or do anything, then Greg leaned in and kissed him again and suddenly it didn't matter if he never remembered how to breathe. This was all he needed, right here in this crappy apartment in a city he'd barely even seen. He just had to find a way to make Greg see it too.

~

I'm not giving up. The words had been playing over and over in his head since Nick said them, that low, determined voice whispering in his ear even after Nick was gone. He knew Nick meant it – there was no doubt about that, just like there was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't work. It couldn't, because they'd spent almost four days together and they hadn't come up with a solution to their biggest problem.

He knew Nick wanted to stay together, but as far as Nick was concerned that meant Greg giving in and moving back to Vegas. And he could keep saying he believed Greg when he said he wasn't going to change his mind, but they both knew it was a lie. Nick was just waiting him out, waiting for Greg to give in and turn his whole life on end again just to make Nick happy.

There was a part of him that wanted to give in. It made sense – they'd met in Vegas, Nick's career was there and Greg could find another job if he went back. There was always the University of Nevada, and once or twice when things were slow at work he'd caught himself surfing the job openings on the UNLV web site. As soon as he realized what he was doing he made himself stop, reminded himself of all the reasons he'd moved back to California and why it was a bad idea to go running back to Nick.

It was flattering, knowing how much Nick wanted him, and when he kissed Greg and said 'I love you' it was hard to remember why he wasn't giving in. Even harder was stopping himself from asking Nick to stay when they got to the airport, telling him to forget Vegas and his job and stay with Greg. If they could make it work they could make it work anywhere, but he knew the answer he'd get if he asked. And maybe that made him a coward, but he didn't want to hear Nick say no. He didn't want to hear the lame excuses about Nick's career or the promotion he'd put in for, he didn't want to listen to Nick call Vegas 'home' or try to justify why his job was more important than Greg.

And that was what it came down to in the end – he'd be giving Nick a choice, and he knew exactly what Nick would choose. Love…love was one thing, but Nick had put his career first since the moment Greg met him, and he knew that wasn't going to change because of him. He could have said 'I love you' and 'don't leave' and a hundred other things that would have left him feeling needy and pathetic, but in the end Nick would have left anyway, and Greg would have regretted every single word.

So he'd kept his mouth shut and let Nick kiss him goodbye, and he hadn't gone after Nick when he got out of Greg's car and walked into the airport. He'd even managed to smile and wave when Nick stopped to look back at him, and if it looked like maybe Nick was waiting for Greg to stop him, it only lasted a second before Nick turned and walked away. By the time he was back on the highway he'd almost managed to convince himself he'd imagined it, and by the time he was back in his apartment he knew what he had to do.

It wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what either of them wanted; he knew exactly how Nick was going to react, and just the thought of never touching Nick again was almost enough to make him change his mind. If he just hung in there for a little while, just pretended he really believed they could make a long-distance relationship work…but all that would buy him was a little more time, another weekend or two of Nick in his bed and every time Nick went home they'd be right back where they started.

And maybe if he'd never left Vegas casual sex with Nick would have been enough, but he wasn't in Vegas anymore and the two weekends they'd spent together so far were way more intense than he'd ever expected. He'd never expected Nick Stokes to fall in love with him, though, no more than he'd expected to fall in love with Nick.

So it was better this way, because making a clean break now meant they could both go back to their lives without any unrealistic expectations for some future that was never going to happen. He believed that – mostly – but his heart was still in his throat as he waited for the phone to ring, and when it finally did he had to force himself to pick up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey."

He could hear the smile in Nick's voice, sending warmth straight to the pit of his stomach and God, he was never going to be able to do this. Only he had to, because he knew Nick wouldn't. "Hey. How was your flight?"

"Beats me," Nick answered, his voice low and intimate in Greg's ear, and if he closed his eyes he knew he'd be able to feel Nick's breath on his skin. "I slept through pretty much the whole thing."

It was strange how easily he could picture Nick on the other end of the line, his bag probably still sitting just inside his front door and his shirt wrinkled from sleeping on the plane. He knew Nick better than he ever thought he would – better than he wanted to, because it made starting this conversation a lot harder than it should be. All he had to do was tell Nick it was over, that he'd thought about it and it wasn't going to work, and that would be it. He knew Nick would be mad, but eventually he'd get over it and when he did, he'd see that Greg was right.

"You're working tonight?" he said instead, rolling his eyes at himself at the stupid question. He already knew Nick was working tonight – if he wasn't on tonight he wouldn't have left L.A. until Tuesday.

"Yeah," Nick answered, "but I've got a couple hours before I have to be at the lab. Enough time for a shower and maybe a quick nap."

And picturing Nick asleep in his own bed wasn't helping at all, especially when Greg knew exactly why Nick was so tired. He could still feel it in his own stiff muscles, still remember the glide of Nick's hands on his skin and his mouth pressed hard against Greg's. It would be a long time before he forgot any of it, but wanting Nick didn't change the fact that they didn't have a future.

"Look, Nick," he said, forcing the words out before he had a chance to change his mind. He needed to do this now, because if he let it go – if he told himself Nick needed to get some rest and put it off until later – the chances were he'd never do it at all. "We need to talk."

He could almost see Nick tense on the other end of the line, the sharp, barely audible intake of breath and the sudden change in Nick's voice telling him everything he needed to know. "About what?"

"About this. Us. Whatever we're doing."

"I thought we already settled all that," Nick said, defensive now, and Greg swallowed the swell of guilt. But Nick wasn't stupid, and no matter how good he was at denial he had to know this was coming eventually.

"We didn't settle anything," Greg answered, fighting to keep the exasperation from creeping into his voice. He knew it would just start an argument, and he wanted to get this out before they started yelling at each other. "Come on, Nick, you know this can't work."

"What are you talking about? Just a few hours ago you seemed to think it could work just fine."

"Yeah, well, I've had some time to think about it."

"Four hours. I've been gone four hours and you decided our whole relationship is a wash? Do I even get a say in this?"

And now he wasn't even trying to stay calm, because Nick was already angry and part of Greg resented having to be the one to be realistic about the situation. "Jesus, Nick, what do you want me to do? Wait around until you get tired of using all your vacation time to come out here? You're still expecting me to change my mind and go running back to Vegas."

"You're right." Nick had never been any good at hiding his emotions, and Greg could hear all the anger and confusion in his voice. He didn't want to listen anymore – he didn't want to hear it and know he'd put that hurt there. He didn't want any of this, not the memories or the knowledge of what could have been if he'd just stayed in Vegas a few more months. "You're right, I want you back here. Can you blame me? You haven't given me one good reason why you won't think about it. I love you, G, and I know you love me too. So what's the problem?"

The problem was that Nick kept saying he was willing to do anything, but never once had he even considered giving up his job to be with Greg. It was a lot to ask, but Nick had been asking him to do the exact same thing for months, and he didn't seem to think it was too much to hope for. Greg couldn't bring himself to say any of that to Nick, though, because if he did and Nick agreed he'd never know if Nick was there because he wanted to be or if he'd just felt like he owed it to Greg.

He wanted too much – he wanted everything Nick wanted and more, and he was terrified to ask for any of it because he already knew what the answer would be.

"Look," he said, working hard to keep his voice even, "we had a good time and we both got what we wanted. So let's just…save ourselves the complications."

"The complications." Nick laughed, bitter and mirthless and Greg swallowed a fresh rush of regret. "Maybe you got what you wanted, but I sure as hell didn't. What have we been doing here?"

"Getting it out of our systems." And he'd expected this to be hard, but he'd never expected it to physically hurt to say the words. "Look, Nick, I'm sorry…"

"Don't," Nick interrupted, his voice thicker now and colder than Greg had ever heard it. "Don't try to pretend this was just sex because you're too much of a coward to deal with it."

"I'm not a coward," Greg shot back, anger flaring up to edge out the guilt that had settled heavy in his chest. "I'm trying to be realistic here."

"You keep telling yourself that, G. Maybe someday you'll even believe it."

A second later the line clicked and Greg's heart plummeted into his stomach. He wasn't surprised that Nick hung up on him – it was a lot better than some of the endings he'd dreamed up to this particular conversation. It was over, and that was the important thing, because it didn't matter what Nick wanted or even what he wanted. The point was that they wanted the same thing, but they wanted it on different terms, and he couldn't just ignore it and pretend it would all work itself out eventually. Maybe Nick could live that way, but Greg didn't even want to try.

~

For days Nick was so angry he couldn't even think about Greg without wanting to break something. He managed to keep his temper mostly in check at work by focusing on the job, but his house was a different story. There were a few broken dishes and a new hole in the wall of his bedroom to remind him of just how much this was affecting him, and if he didn't find a way to get past it soon he was going to have to start eating off plastic.

Every morning when he got home he picked up the phone, then slammed it back down again when he realized what he was doing. He wasn't going to call Greg and beg him to come back. He wasn't going to keep banging his head against the same brick wall; Greg had made it pretty clear that he didn't even want to try, and if that was how he felt Nick wasn't going to try to change his mind. There was no point, because Greg was just as stubborn as Nick when he wanted to be, and it was pretty obvious that he'd made up his mind.

So he didn't want to move back to Vegas. Nick could deal with that – he didn't like it, but he wasn't going to force Greg to do something he didn't want to do. There were other options, things he'd just started to think through when Greg told him it was over. At the time he'd been so blindsided by Greg's determination that he hadn't brought up any of the alternatives he'd thought of so far, and now…now he wasn't sure it was worth trying.

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should have taken the hint when Greg never said a word about how he felt. He let Nick talk as much as he wanted, but he never said anything back and that probably should have been a clue that he wasn't in it for the long haul. Maybe it really was just sex for him, but even as he thought it Nick knew it wasn't true. He'd been there when Greg kissed him, seen the look in his eyes when he pulled Nick close and all the words he was holding back when Nick kissed him one last time in his car.

Greg wanted this, maybe just as much as Nick did, but he pushed Nick away anyway and that was the part Nick didn't understand. It didn't make any sense, because if they loved each other they should be able to find a way to make it work. He couldn't make it work on his own, though, and if Greg wouldn't even admit he wanted this then Nick wasn't sure what else to do.

He reached the break room and pushed the door open too hard, letting it swing shut behind him as he made his way to the coffee pot and grabbed a cup, stopping just short of crushing the paper in his grip. And even the coffee was all wrong now that Greg wasn't around anymore – Nick had just spent three days drinking Greg's expensive coffee, and he'd nearly forgotten how much he liked it until he had to come back to the Folgers provided by the county.

"Okay, what gives?"

He started at the sound of Catherine's voice, glancing over his shoulder and noticing for the first time that he wasn't alone in the room. She was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her and some case files stacked next to it. She wasn't working on the files, though – in fact, she was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, watching Nick as though she was waiting for him to explode.

"What?"

"Come on, Nick. Everybody knows where you went last weekend, and it's pretty obvious from the way you've been storming around here that it didn't go the way you were hoping. You want to talk about it?"

And sometimes he hated being such an open book, because it meant he couldn't keep anything from the people who saw him every day. Most of them knew better than to ask him about it, but Catherine wasn't just anybody. She had a bad habit of calling him on his moods, and he knew she wasn't going to let it go until he told her something.

"Not really," he answered, taking a sip of weak coffee and cringing before he put the cup down on the counter next to him.

Catherine sighed and shook her head, just looking at him for a few long moments before she spoke again. "Well you better talk to somebody, because it's starting to affect your job, and that affects me."

He wanted to laugh at that, because it just figured she'd find a way to make this about her. If it wasn't for her and that stupid exploding sample…but he wasn't going down that road again, because it never got him anywhere. "You don't want to hear it, trust me."

"Try me."

It was no secret around the lab that he and Greg were involved; most people talked about it behind his back, but he knew the word had spread a long time ago. Catherine was the only one who'd ever asked him about it directly, though, and if she wanted to know maybe telling her wouldn't hurt. At least he'd be able to say it out loud, maybe work out some of it so he wouldn't feel the need to go home and start breaking furniture. "Okay. The trip was fine – more than fine, it was great. Then I got back and called Greg and he broke it off."

"He waited until you got home to break up with you?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, letting out a mirthless chuckle at her expression. "He couldn't do it to my face, he knew I'd just talk him out of it."

"So why didn't you talk him out of it over the phone?"

Nick shrugged and picked up his coffee again, lifting the cup all the way to his lips before he remembered and set it back down again. "Because I was mad. I wasn't thinking straight, I guess. He's just so damn stubborn. You know he won't even think about coming back here? When I ask why he won't give me a straight answer, but he thinks that means there's no hope for us."

The shock in her features faded into something a little too close to pity for Nick's comfort. "I hate to say it, but he's got a point. If neither of you is willing to budge…I've never done the long distance thing, but I hear it's not much fun."

"I told him I'd do whatever it takes," Nick answered a little too emphatically. When he heard the sound of his own voice he sighed, reminding himself he wasn't arguing with Greg. He didn't have to convince Catherine of anything, and yelling at her about it wasn't going to do any good. "He won't tell me what he wants me to do."

"Wow. I mean I knew you and Greg were…" She trailed off and gestured vaguely in his direction, and Nick tried to ignore the surge of anger that came along with the fact that she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Catherine was the last person he ever expected to be shy about sex, but they'd never talked about him and another guy before. "I didn't know it had gotten serious enough for you to be thinking about moving in together. That is what you're talking about, right? Greg moving back here to live with you?"

He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious about telling anybody but Greg how he felt. "That's one option, yeah, but it's not the only one."

She wasn't trying to hide her surprise; Nick didn't really expect her to, because he'd known Catherine long enough to know she'd speak her mind even if it wasn't any of her business. Still, she seemed more surprised that Nick could actually be serious about somebody than that he was serious about Greg in particular. It shouldn't have made him feel better, but for some reason it did.

"Are you thinking about leaving Vegas?"

"No," he answered automatically. It wasn't entirely true; he'd considered the possibility, but Greg hadn't asked him to move to L.A. and there was a part of Nick that was afraid that meant Greg didn't want him there. He hadn't brought it up while they were together because he hadn't wanted to make Greg feel obligated to say yes, but now he was starting to think that was a mistake. Maybe if Greg knew exactly how serious he was...but it was too late for that now. "Even if I was, it doesn't matter anymore. He made it pretty clear that it's over."

"That doesn't sound like the Greg I know."

"What are you talking about?"

Catherine shrugged and stood up, picking up her coffee cup and tossing it in the trash before she turned back to Nick. "Look, I only know what I saw while he was still working here, but it was pretty obvious even back then that he had it bad. The way he watched you during meetings, the way he always came up with information to help out with your cases first…he's not the kind of guy who just gives up. If he was he would have given up on you a year ago."

"Yeah, well, he's changed a lot since the accident."

"Maybe." She picked up her files and crossed to the door, pausing when she reached it and glancing back at him. "But maybe he just needs to hear just how far you're willing to go."

"I told him…"

"I know what you told him, Nick. Some people just need to be hit over the head with it, you know?"

One last smile and she was gone, leaving him alone with a cup of cold coffee and a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. It seemed now that he was the last person to notice that Greg had feelings for him, and if he'd missed something as big as that, maybe he was missing something else important. Maybe she was right and he should have told Greg exactly how far he was willing to go to make sure they had a shot…but Greg had made up his mind, and Nick knew it would take something huge to change it.

~

He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten to this point. Just a few months ago his life had been pretty much perfect – great job, lots of friends and his own place in the biggest party city in the country. Living in Vegas had been fun for awhile, but he didn't really regret giving any of it up, and if it wasn't for Nick he probably would have stopped thinking about it a long time ago.

A few nights with Nick shouldn't have changed anything. A few well-chosen words and some really good sex shouldn't have been enough to make it impossible to forget, but three weeks later he was still thinking about it. He thought about it all the time, and he still hadn't figured out what he regretted more: ending it, or ever starting it in the first place. If he'd known what it would be like with Nick…but if he'd known there was no way he would have been able to say no, even if he'd known how it would end.

It wasn't the first time he'd ever screwed up a relationship. It wasn't even the worst mess he'd ever made, but it felt like it, and he had a feeling that had something to do with how much he still wanted Nick. Regret didn't even begin to cover it – this was a constant weight in the center of his chest, a knot in his stomach and a trembling in his hands that he'd thought he was finally done with.

He was a mess, and even though nobody had said anything yet he knew it was coming. He'd broken a couple test tubes in the lab, and every time he went home his mother gave him that look that let him know she was worried but she didn't want to say anything. She'd stopped asking him about Nick a couple weeks ago – at first he was relieved, but it turned out that never even hearing his name was even harder than having to come up with new and increasingly vague answers for why they weren't talking.

That was why he was here tonight, sitting in a dark, noisy club with Steve on one side of him and some guy from the Sociology Department on the other. If he'd known when Steve said 'hey, let's go grab a beer after work' that he meant 'I know this guy', Greg would have said no. He would have gone straight home to spend the night staring at the TV and telling himself he wasn't pining. It had become sort of a ritual, and he was mostly okay with it.

Steve had known him for a long time, though, so Greg didn't figure out he was actually on a date until they'd ordered a round of drinks and some guy he'd never seen before slid onto the chair next to him. And he was cute in a college professor kind of way, so maybe if Greg wasn't head over heels for somebody else he wouldn't have spent the whole night comparing this new guy to Nick. He wouldn't have found fault in the way the guy smiled or the sound of his laugh, he wouldn't have thought his clothes were too conservative and his hair just a little too long.

He might even have liked the guy if it wasn't for Nick…but that was starting to become a recurring theme, and he didn't know what to do about it. Killing Steve for blindsiding him was one option; he knew he wasn't much fun to be around lately, but it still bothered him that his friend assumed that just because the sociology professor was gay and Greg liked guys that they'd be perfect for each other. As far as he could tell that was the only thing they had in common – granted, it was hard to make conversation in a noisy bar on a Thursday night, but so far the guy had spent most of the evening trading Stupid Freshman stories with Steve.

It made Greg feel more like a third wheel than a guy on a blind date. In fact, if he didn't know Steve was straight he'd think they were perfect for each other. So he didn't really feel all that guilty when he finished his second beer and stood up, dropping a few bills on the table before shouting an excuse over the bar noise and leaving Steve and his professor to their conversation.

He was barely out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he swallowed a sigh and turned to face his friend. It didn't surprise him that Steve had followed him out of the bar, but the last thing he wanted to do was explain why he couldn't sit at that table for another minute. And Steve looked mad, but he didn't have a right to be. Greg hadn't asked to be set up – he hadn't even agreed to the date in the first place.

"Greg, man, what gives? You don't just blow a guy off like that."

Greg rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his keys. "I'm not blowing anybody off. You asked him out, not me. Besides, you guys seem to be having a pretty good time without me."

"Come on, if you'd open your damn mouth I wouldn't have to hold up your end of the conversation. He's a nice guy, what's the problem?"

"The problem…" Greg trailed off, not bothering to check his frustrated sigh this time. "Look, just because he likes guys and I like guys doesn't mean we're meant for each other. I'm sure he's great, but I'm just not interested."

"This is about that guy in Vegas, isn't it?" Steve shook his head when Greg opened his mouth to argue. "Man, why didn't you just tell me you were serious about the guy? I thought you said it was practically over."

"It's complicated," Greg answered, but he didn't need to see Steve's frown to know how lame that sounded. There was no way to explain this thing with Nick to an outsider, though, not when Greg didn't really understand it himself. "Look, I'm sorry about…what's his name?"

"Eric," Steve said, his features finally relaxing into a grin. "Don't worry about it, I'll think of something to tell him. But seriously, what's the deal with this mystery guy of yours?"

"There's no deal. It's over," Greg said, ignoring the way his throat tightened around the words. "It has been for awhile."

"Yeah, right. Don't bullshit me, man, I've known you too long."

"I'm not. There's really nothing to tell." It wasn't exactly true, but he wasn't going to stand on the sidewalk outside some trendy college bar and pour out his heart to anybody, not even one of his oldest friends. He didn't want to talk about it – he didn't even want to think about it, he just wanted to go home and forget this whole night had ever happened.

Whether Steve believed him or just figured out he wasn't getting an actual answer Greg didn't know, but he finally let Greg go with a promise to give him a call over the weekend. And he would have laughed at the fact that Steve was stuck on a date with a guy, but he felt too guilty about it to see the humor in the situation. He should have been able to get through a few drinks with the guy, even if he wasn't interested. But just sitting there knowing he was on a date – sort of, anyway – made him feel like he was betraying Nick.

And it was stupid, because he didn't owe Nick anything. They were over, he'd ended it and Nick had made it pretty clear that he didn't have any intention of trying to change Greg's mind. He hadn't called, hadn't even tried to get in touch with Greg even to see how he was doing. Not that Greg had really expected him to – maybe he hoped, just a little, but he couldn't really expect Nick to come chasing after him. He probably wouldn't have, not if Nick had said to him the things he'd said to Nick. He didn't have a right to expect Nick to want him after that, didn't have a right to want to pick up the phone and call just to hear that voice one more time.

But Nick was supposed to love him, and if he really loved Greg like he said he did he wouldn't just stop because of a few words. He was probably still pissed, yeah, but Nick was a forgiving guy and eventually he'd get over it. He'd probably be glad to hear from Greg, just so he could gloat about the fact that he was right. All he'd had to do was sit back and wait for Greg to realize he couldn't live without Nick, that he didn't want to give up what they had even if it meant picking up and moving back to Vegas.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it, but it was the first time he'd really considered doing something about it. The question was what to do – he could call Grissom and talk to him about a job, but his hands were still a problem and there was no way he could lie his way around that. There was still the University of Nevada; he'd read a couple job postings for lab techs in the Biology department – it wasn't his specialty, but it was a job and it was in the right city. That still left him and Nick on opposite schedules, though, and he wasn't sure Nick would be willing to transfer to the day shift even if Greg moved back to Vegas.

By the time he'd walked the few blocks to his apartment he had the whole thing worked out, from quitting his job to breaking the news to his parents to the conditions Nick would have to agree to. His hand gripped his keys tight, the other in his pocket to stave off the worst of the shaking. And he grinned when he reached the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, because if this was a movie he'd walk up the stairs to find Nick waiting in front of his door. Only it wasn't a movie, and he was only a little disappointed to find nothing waiting for him but a flyer for some new restaurant down the street.

It wasn't until he'd let himself inside and turned the lights on that the reality of what he was thinking about started to sink in, and his stomach pitched a little as he slid his jacket off and dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. He had no idea what to do – did he call Nick and say 'I'm an idiot' and 'you were right' and hope that Nick still wanted to hear it? Then again, it was all true, so even if Nick didn't want to hear it Greg needed to say it.

He reached for the phone and dialed Nick's number, fingers trembling against the receiver as he waited for the line to connect. When it finally did he heard Nick's voice, just a recording but close enough to the real thing to make Greg's heart skip a beat. He listened to the entire recording before he hung up without leaving a message. He was about to dial Nick's cell phone number when a loud knock on his door interrupted him, and he scowled and gripped the receiver as he crossed the living room and unlocked the door.

"Look, Steve…" he began as he pulled the door open, expecting to find his friend about to launch into one last effort to change his mind. Only it wasn't Steve standing in his doorway, one hand raised as though he was about to knock again, and Greg's hands shook so hard that it was all he could do to keep his grip on the phone. "Nick. What…what are you doing here?"

~

This was either the smartest or the dumbest thing Nick had ever done. Right now it was still a toss-up, and when the door opened and he found himself face to face with Greg he had to swallow against a fresh rush of panic. Greg looked just as shocked as Nick expected him to be, but he didn't look mad, and that was a start. "Can I come in?"

Greg nodded and stepped aside, pulling the door open wide and waiting for Nick to brush past him before he shut it again. And he'd never wanted to push someone up against the door and kiss him so much in his life, but he knew if he wanted a chance to fix this he had to do it right. That meant taking it slow, making Greg hear him out and hoping that when he was done Greg wouldn't kick him out again.

He'd been trying to convince himself that wasn't going to happen since he left Vegas, but there was still a small part of him that was terrified he'd misread the whole situation. He wasn't any good at this kind of thing – he'd spent so many years putting his career above everything else that he wasn't sure he remembered how to put a relationship first. Just showing up at Greg's place was probably the worst thing he could have done, especially after the way they left things. Maybe he should have called, told Greg exactly how much he wanted this and let Greg decide if he was willing to try again.

But it was too late now, because he was standing in Greg's living room and Greg was looking at him like he was waiting for Nick to disappear into thin air. "Who's Steve?"

"What?"

"When you opened the door you called me Steve."

"Oh. He's nobody. Just a friend," Greg answered. "He…uh, he was trying to set me up with this guy. I thought he was here to try to convince me to change my mind."

And he didn't have a right to be jealous, but it was impossible to ignore the heat rising up his neck at the thought of Greg and some other guy. "What guy?"

"Nick. What are you doing here?"

He took a deep breath and told himself it didn't matter what Greg had been doing for the past few weeks – what mattered was what Nick was about to say, and whether or not Greg would kick him out when he was done. "I've got an interview with the L.A. crime lab."

For a second Greg just looked at him like Nick was speaking a foreign language. He'd expected surprise, maybe a little confusion, so he told himself to be patient and wait out the shock. A few seconds ticked by, then a few more, and he was starting to wonder just how long this kind of shock was supposed to last when Greg finally spoke again.

"Wait…what?"

And okay, he'd expected that too, so he took a deep breath and launched into the speech he'd planned so carefully on the plane ride from Vegas. "I meant it when I said I'd do whatever it takes. I thought you knew that. I know I pushed you to come back to Vegas, but...look, am I wasting my time here?"

Suddenly he wished he'd called first, because three weeks was a long time. But Greg had said himself he wasn't ready to date again – sort of, anyway – and Nick wanted that to mean that he still wanted Nick. It was hard to tell from Greg's impassive stare what he was thinking, but when his hand twitched and he dropped the cordless phone he'd been holding Nick was moving before he realized what he was doing.

"Jesus, Greg," he murmured, catching Greg's hand in his and threading their fingers together. For a second Greg gripped his hand hard, then he shook his head, but he didn't try to pull away.

"I'm fine. It's stress-related, supposedly. It was better for awhile."

Nick knew what Greg wasn't saying – he thought he did, anyway. When things were good between them, when Greg was settling into his new life and Nick wasn't pressuring him to make more changes he'd started to get better. But Nick kept pushing, and finally he pushed just a little too hard. He felt like he should apologize, like maybe he should be telling Greg he was sorry for ever calling him in the first place. He'd spent the past three weeks telling himself it wasn't too late, and until now he'd almost believed it.

"I'm sorry. If I'd known…" But he should have known – he was trained to notice these things, and he should have seen the clues that were right in front of him. He didn't want to let go of Greg, not now and maybe not ever, but when Greg tugged at his hand Nick reluctantly released his grip.

"You'd really leave Vegas?" Greg asked, and when Nick heard the uncertainty in his voice he couldn't help hoping it meant what he thought it did.

"Yeah," Nick answered, his hands curled into fists to keep himself from reaching out again. "Anything, G. It's just a job."

A laugh escaped Greg's throat at that, high and a little startled. "Now there's something I bet nobody ever expected to hear you say."

Nick grinned, but the truth was that it really was just a job. Just like being a cop had been just a job – one he loved, but he'd given it up to make his father happy. He could give up Clark County – he could give up anything Greg asked him to – because Greg made him happy, and that was more important than any job. "If L.A. County hires me I'll be doing the same job, just in a different place."

"So you're saying…"

And he would have laughed at the fact that Greg was going to make him spell it out, but Greg's smile was gone and he looked almost nervous about the answer. "I'm saying what I should have said a month ago. If you want to stay in California I'll sell my house and move out here, I'll get an apartment and we can take it slow if you want – whatever, I just want this to work."

Until he said it out loud it didn't really hit him what he was offering, but as terrifying as it was to hand over his entire future, it was worth it if it meant a second chance. He'd never wanted anything – anyone – so much, and if it meant starting over in a new city that's what he'd do. He opened his mouth to tell Greg that, to lay all his cards on the table for the first time in his life, but before he got the words out Greg was moving forward, hands on his chest and a familiar mouth pressed against his.

Nick's lips parted automatically, tasting beer and mint and Greg for the first time in way too long. He swallowed against the tightness in his chest and wrapped his arms around Greg's waist, pulling him as close as he could get. When they parted again Nick's hands were under Greg's shirt, pressed flat against warm skin and moving in slow circles on Greg's back. He felt the scars under his fingers, the tiny shudders that ran through Greg's body when Nick touched each one in turn.

"When's your interview?"

"Tomorrow," Nick answered. "It's not a sure thing, but Grissom knows a guy in the L.A. office. And if this one doesn't work out…"

That was as far as he got before Greg was kissing him again, but Nick decided that the details could wait until later. When Greg murmured 'love you' against his mouth Nick stopped thinking at all, hands pushing Greg's shirt up his back as he pulled Greg in the direction of the bedroom. There would be plenty of time for talking later – he didn't have to be back in Vegas until Saturday night, and once his interview was over he was planning to spend the next two days showing Greg exactly how much he'd missed him.

~

Greg pulled up in front of the one-story house, shielding his eyes against the sun as he turned off the car and got out. It was hard to believe that it was actually theirs – that he was a homeowner – but he'd listened to Nick's speeches about equity and investment property and pouring rent money down the drain so much that he finally gave in just to shut Nick up.

He wasn't sorry, because he would have lived in a tent if Nick asked him to, but he liked this house. He liked that it was theirs, with both their names on the mortgage in official-looking black ink. It was a commitment, and even though Greg didn't really need a piece of paper to convince himself that they were both serious, it still felt good to know it was there. He'd told Nick that once when Nick caught him staring at their copy of the mortgage papers, and the fact that Nick hadn't laughed at him made Greg fall in love all over again.

It seemed like he did that a lot – definitely more than he'd ever admit – and when he walked into the house and found Nick standing in the middle of the living room wearing a tool belt his heart actually stopped.

They'd gotten the house cheap because 'it needed TLC', according to the realtor, but until they actually moved in Greg had no idea that Nick really knew how to do any of this stuff. Like the French doors he was installing to separate the living room from the dining area – he spent a lot of time talking about investments and resale value, but Greg had a feeling that Nick didn't have any more intention of ever budging from this house than Greg did. They were both commuting again in L.A. traffic, but it was worth it to come home to a quiet neighborhood in the hills where their neighbors weren't right on top of them.

"Hey," Nick said when he glanced up to find Greg watching him. "Come here for a second and give me a hand."

Greg dropped his backpack on the floor and crossed the room, holding the door in place while Nick secured the hinges to the wall. He had to keep his eyes on the floor so he wouldn't stare at Nick's arms and forget what he was supposed to be doing – they didn't have time for that right now anyway, because they were supposed to be at his parents' house in just a little over an hour.

When Nick was done Greg let go of the door and let Nick pull him close, kissing him slowly before he reluctantly pulled away. "We've gotta get going if we don't want to be late."

The last thing he wanted to do was stop kissing Nick – what he really wanted to do was start with the tool belt and slowly peel off everything Nick was wearing, but he knew if they blew off his parents' anniversary party he'd never hear the end of it.

"In a minute," Nick answered, his mouth trailing along Greg's jaw to the spot just under his ear that he knew drove Greg crazy. And he was playing dirty, but Greg fell for it anyway, letting out a low moan and tilting his head to give Nick better access.

"Nick…" He summoned up the last of his resolve and flattened his hands against Nick's chest, pushing just hard enough to slip out of his grip. "That's so not fair."

Nick just grinned, but he let Greg retreat to a safer distance. "You didn't say what you thought of the door."

"It looks great," Greg answered, his eyes never leaving Nick and his tool belt. If Nick noticed he didn't complain – instead he reached down to unbuckle the leather belt, and Greg swallowed hard as he slid it off his hips.

"You want a shower before we go?"

It took him a few seconds to remember what Nick was talking about, but when he finally did he flushed and looked up again. "Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you're coming with me."

Nick grinned and set his tool belt down, crossing the wooden floor he'd made Greg help him refinish and sliding his arms around Greg's waist. "I thought you said we didn't have time."

Greg shrugged and closed a hand around the front of Nick's shirt to tug him toward the master bedroom. "So we'll be a little late. My parents will understand."

Fin

But if you want more... there is an additon to this universe: Yesterday's Notions

FANFIC: All The Way To Paris by Caroline Crane 3/4

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: All the Way to Paris by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: This is an AU that starts at the end of season three and then breaks off from canon. If you've read "Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders" the beginning will seem familiar -- it starts with one of the four AU storylines from that fic and then explores what could have happened if the show had ever dealt with the lasting effects of Greg's injuries.

Chapters:part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04
An additon to this universe - August 2008: Yesterday's Notions

Part Three

So far Greg had done a pretty good job of avoiding actual conversation, but he knew sooner or later Nick was going to start talking again. He talked a lot more during sex than Greg expected, mostly about how much he wanted Greg and how much he'd missed him. A few months ago Greg would have given anything to hear more of that, but now…now all they had was a day, then Nick would be gone and Greg would be left thinking about all those things he'd tried so hard not to hear.

The real problem was that he wanted Nick to miss him – he liked that Nick thought about him when he wasn't around. He liked that Nick wanted him so much that he'd gotten on a plane without bothering to tell Greg, and he really liked the way Nick touched him. He liked the feeling of that mouth on his skin, those hands mapping every inch of him like Nick was trying to memorize him. And that was all part of the problem, because this was supposed to help him get Nick out of his system, not let him burrow so far under Greg's skin that he'd never be able to forget.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been asleep – a few minutes, or maybe a few hours – when Nick's hand slid down his hip, thumb moving in slow circles on Greg's skin as that mouth found his neck again. He'd kissed Nick into silence once already, and he'd kept kissing Nick until they finally drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, but he wasn't sure how many times he could get away with it before Nick called him on it. He was an investigator, after all, and he knew a lot more than Greg did about getting information out of suspects.

"You asleep?" Nick murmured against his ear, his breath hot and tickling Greg's skin.

"Yeah," Greg answered, smiling in spite of the butterflies in his stomach when Nick laughed and inched a little closer. He could feel Nick's cock pressed against his back, half-hard already, and he pressed back into the sensation. Maybe part of it was just another attempt at distraction, but Nick had made a promise earlier about fucking him and Greg was still waiting for him to follow through.

As though Nick could read his mind his hand left Greg's hip to dip between them, pressing his top leg gently toward his chest. He 'hmmed' low in his throat as his hand slid back down Greg's leg, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of Greg's inner thigh just enough to send a shudder through him. And he never would have figured Nick for a tease, but when a finger pressed inside him only to disappear again almost right away he couldn't stop the disappointed groan. A second later he felt the mattress shift, and he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch Nick stand up.

For a second he was mesmerized by the sight of Nick's strong, solid back and a perfect ass that led to muscular thighs, but when Nick reached for his bag and started digging around Greg frowned and rolled onto his back. "What, am I boring you already?"

Nick didn't answer right away; he could be frustratingly single-minded when he wanted to be, but it was a lot more annoying when Greg was naked and hard than it was when they were in the lab. When he finally found what he was looking for he straightened up and turned back to the bed, smiling that dazzling smile that made it impossible for Greg to stay mad at him. "Trust me, G, the last thing you are is boring."

He dropped whatever he'd been looking for on the mattress – condoms and lube, Greg surmised with a quick glance – before he slid back down next to the other man and pressed their lips together. Greg sighed into the kiss, parting his lips and pressing up against Nick until they were side by side again. He slid one leg over the other man's hip, groaning against Nick's mouth when their cocks brushed together. And it was amazing just to be with Nick this way, but he knew it could be a lot better.

He pulled away with a gasp and turned onto his other side, reaching for the small tube Nick had brought with him and pressing it into the other man's hand. Nick laughed softly against his neck and took the lube, his lips brushing across Greg's shoulder as he opened it and squeezed a little onto his fingers. Greg drew his top leg up toward his chest again as Nick's hand slid between them, moaning and pushing back when the first finger slid inside him.

It had been a long time since he did this, so the stretch felt wider than it should have, but he pressed back into it anyway and ignored the slight twinge of discomfort. A few seconds later Nick's finger sank even deeper and the discomfort melted into a mixture of pleasure and anticipation, and he closed his eyes and pressed back against the warm body behind him.

A low murmur of approval escaped Nick's throat as he slid a second finger in to join the first, his mouth working its way from Greg's shoulder all the way to the sensitive skin just behind his ear. "You never said anything," Nick murmured against his skin, his voice so soft that for a second Greg thought he'd imagined it.

When he said it again Greg realized that not only had he really heard it, but Nick was expecting an answer. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk; what he wanted to do was spend the next twenty-four hours thinking as little as possible, but he had a feeling Nick wasn't going to let him get away with that.

"I wasn't sure." His voice was embarrassingly breathy, but if Nick noticed he didn't seem to care. Besides, Greg's whole body was already flushed, so it didn't make much of a difference when the sound of his own voice made him blush.

"You weren't sure of what?"

"Wasn't sure…you wanted me," Greg answered, his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to concentrate long enough to remember how to work his voice. "God, Nick…"

He squeezed his muscles around the fingers buried inside him, and when Nick groaned and pulled out of him he reached for one of the condoms Nick had dropped next to him. His fingers trembled too much to open the package, so he handed it back to Nick. Strong fingers pulled the condom out of his hand, but when Nick's hand caught his and warm lips brushed across his fingers Greg forgot how to breathe.

He was supposed to be self-conscious about his tremor; it bothered him whenever his friends stared, and it bothered him more when they asked him about it like it made him different somehow. So he didn't want to like it when Nick deliberately kissed his knuckles, then squeezed his fingers before letting go and tearing the foil open. It was just another one of those things he didn't want to get used to, because in a day Nick would be gone and they'd be back to phone calls, and Greg would spend way too much time trying to decide whether or not he'd just imagined all this.

Before he managed to talk himself completely out of it Nick rolled the condom down, reaching for the lube and letting out a soft hiss as he ran a slick hand over his cock. A second later he was pushing inside Greg, his breathing erratic as he fought the urge to push too fast. It felt like forever before he was all the way in, slick fingers gripping Greg's hip just a little too hard. And even that felt good, better than Greg would ever admit. Then Nick started moving and Greg closed his eyes tight and pressed back into the sensation, urging Nick to move a little faster when he couldn't take the excruciating pace anymore.

Nick's hand left his hip and slid under his leg, gripping his cock hard enough to make Greg moan and tighten convulsively around the other man. For a second they both froze, but when Greg finally relaxed Nick started moving again, his hand stroking roughly in time to his thrusts. "How long?"

And it was funny how he understood exactly what Nick was asking from just two words. He could pretend he didn't, but he knew Nick would spell out the question if he had to, spitting each word out from between gritted teeth. And there was no way he was going to tell Nick the humiliating truth, no way he was going to own up to two years of hero worship that eventually grew into full-blown, pathetically unrequited love. "Don't know," he choked out, grunting when Nick thrust a little harder. "Awhile."

Nick's teeth grazed his neck and Greg shuddered, half expecting the other man to force the issue until Greg admitted the truth. There was no way Nick could know, though; he might have figured out how Greg felt about him after Greg left, but he'd been totally oblivious for a long time. If he thought the truth would get him something he'd admit it gladly, but all it would do now was make Nick feel guilty that it had taken him so long to wake up. Either that or it would make him feel like he owed Greg something, and that was the last thing he wanted. All he wanted from Nick was…this, just enough time to get it out of his system so he could get on with his life.

That was the end of the conversation for awhile, and when Nick spoke again it was to moan Greg's name when he came. That and the persistent pressure on his cock were enough to pull Greg over the edge, and he let go with a low, broken moan. For awhile they stayed that way, Nick's cock still pulsing inside him and their breathing slowly evening out. He knew it couldn't last forever, though, and when Nick finally pulled out of him Greg closed his eyes and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the center of his chest. It didn't mean anything; it was just because he knew this would all be over soon, and there would be plenty of time to worry about that once Nick was gone.

He was still trying to convince himself that was true when strong arms wrapped around him again, Nick's lips brushing the scars closest to the top of his back. Greg tried not to shiver at the touch, but he knew he'd failed when Nick's arms tightened even more around him. Part of him wanted to pull away, to pretend he was exhausted until Nick finally fell asleep again, but Nick's chest felt good pressed against his back and Greg didn't want to move.

"If this had happened before would you have left anyway?"

The question was soft, but Nick's mouth was close to his ear and Greg heard the words clearly. He fought the urge to tense in Nick's grip, swallowing a sigh and forcing his eyes open to look down at Nick's hand pressed against his chest. "I don't know. Maybe not."

"So come back," Nick said, and his voice was so full of determination that for a second Greg almost wanted to say yes.

"Right, because Grissom'll just give me my job back because you want him to," he said instead, rolling onto his back to look at the other man. He held up a hand and watched it shake until Nick reached out and closed his own hand around it, entwining their fingers together. "He gave me my walking papers for a reason. Besides, you said yourself that they already replaced me."

"He'd find a place for you if you wanted to come back," Nick said, and he sounded so sure of himself that Greg wanted to laugh. "You're doing lab work now and it doesn't interfere."

"It's different," Greg answered, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to explain exactly how even if he wanted to. He didn't want to tell Nick that the tremor all but stopped when Nick wasn't around, that it didn't interfere with his new job as long as he wasn't thinking about anything stressful. He didn't want to have this conversation at all, because there was a part of him that sort of wished he hadn't left Vegas the way he did.

Nick's free hand slid through his hair, and he closed his eyes against the sensation. He didn't want Nick's pity, but he wanted Nick, and he wasn't sure how much he'd do to hold on to that. "Look," he said, forcing his eyes open to look at the other man, "Grissom made his decision, and I have to live with it. His loss, right?"

"It's not just his loss," Nick answered, and when Nick kissed him again Greg prayed Nick wouldn't hear how fast his heart was beating.

~

All things considered, Nick was feeling pretty good about his visit by the time Sunday morning rolled around. He wished they had more time, but even if he had another day or two it wouldn't be enough. Still, they hadn't done a lot of talking in the past thirty-six hours, and he knew there were a lot of things that needed to be said. It was hard to focus on conversation when Greg was right there in front of him, though, and once Nick was back in Vegas all they'd have was conversation.

He'd brought up the lab a couple more times after that first night, but he hadn't pressured Greg to consider coming back again. He couldn't really blame Greg for not wanting to go back after the way he'd left; if Greg was embarrassed about getting fired it was understandable, even though it wasn't his fault. That was the part that really bothered Nick – if Greg was still living in Vegas things between them would be perfect, so it was hard not to blame Grissom and Catherine for the fact that they were stuck dealing with a long-distance relationship.

It wasn't a situation he ever thought he'd find himself in, but his feelings for Greg weren't like anything he'd ever felt before. Before he'd decided to fly to California they'd been intense, but now that they'd spent two nights together he was even more determined to make it work. His resolve got a little stronger every time he caught sight of Greg, and as he watched the other man walk out of the bathroom and run a hand through his already wild hair Nick's heart skipped a beat.

"You sure you're up for this?"

Greg rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and Nick knew he wasn't nearly as annoyed as he was trying to sound. "If you ask me that one more time I'll let you take a cab."

He wasn't about to sacrifice what little time he had left with Greg, even if it was just a ride to the airport. Greg was the one who'd offered to drive him, after all, and if he wanted to sit in traffic on his way home Nick wasn't going to talk him out of it. He tried and failed to stifle a grin as he reached for his bag, swinging it over his shoulder as he followed Greg out of the room. When they reached the elevators he pushed the down button and turned to look at Greg, reaching out to rest a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I wish I could stay longer, but Sara's got one of her conferences starting tomorrow and Cath's got the night off for some thing with Lindsey."

Greg shrugged off the explanation, the motion making Nick's hand slip off his shoulder and onto his back. He let his fingers linger there for a second before he pulled his hand away; touching Greg had become sort of a fetish for him in the past two days, and it was hard to keep his hands to himself when he knew that soon he wouldn't be able to touch Greg at all.

"Duty calls, right?" Greg said as the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside and waited for Nick to follow before he pushed the button for the lobby. "Besides, I have to work tomorrow anyway."

"Right," Nick answered, glancing curiously at Greg as the elevator began to move. He didn't want to think that Greg was happy to be getting rid of him; he'd seemed pretty glad to have Nick around for the past two days, even if he'd been a little surprised when Nick showed up on his doorstep. Nick had expected him to be shocked, but once he got over that everything had gone exactly the way Nick hoped it would. He knew where he stood with Greg now – he thought he did, anyway – and that was the whole point of this trip.

"So where'd you tell Grissom you were going?" Greg asked as they reached the lobby and stepped out of the elevator.

It was the first time Greg had voluntarily brought up the subject of anything to do with Las Vegas since that first night, and Nick couldn't help wondering what exactly he was asking. The truth was that he hadn't needed to tell anyone anything – Grissom had figured it out even before Nick did, and it didn't take the rest of the night shift long to read between the lines. He knew there was going to be a lot of teasing and maybe a few weird looks when he got back to the lab, but he didn't care about any of that. He had no idea how Greg would feel about it, though, and he didn't want to jeopardize whatever chance he had of convincing Greg to come home.

"I didn't," he finally answered, stopping at the desk long enough to drop off his key before he followed Greg out of the lobby and toward his car. "I just told him I needed a couple days off."

He couldn't tell from Greg's nod if that was the right answer or not; Greg had always been a little confusing, but ever since he left Vegas he'd been different in ways Nick hadn't really expected. He kept telling himself it shouldn't be that surprising considering – of course Greg wouldn't be as quick to joke around and make light of his situation after what he'd been through, but he'd never expected Greg to seem so…resigned. He'd given up on the crime lab and becoming a CSI a lot more quickly than Nick ever would have expected, and he didn't seem to want to consider trying again.

Nick tossed his bag in the back of the car before he slid into the passenger seat, stealing a quick glance at Greg's profile as he buckled his seat belt. After their first night together Greg's hands had stopped shaking almost completely, and when he started the car and pulled out of the lot they were as steady as they had been before the accident. It made Nick wonder why Greg was fighting the idea of going back to Vegas so hard, especially when he knew Grissom would take him back. At least Nick thought he knew that; maybe he just needed to hear it from Grissom instead of Nick.

"I've got plenty of room at my place, you know. In case you change your mind about that visit."

Greg sighed dramatically, but his mouth twisted into an almost-smile, and Nick couldn't help grinning back. "Are you always this stubborn?"

"Only when I want something," Nick answered. And he'd missed that smile most of all, the one that made Greg look like a kid with a secret. It made him want all sorts of things he was pretty sure he couldn't have, but knowing that didn't help him want them any less.

He wanted to tell Greg to come home even though he already knew exactly what answer he'd get. He'd beg if he thought it would make any difference, but they'd already had that conversation once, and he knew the answer hadn't changed yet. That didn't mean he was going to stop asking – all it meant was that he'd be more careful about how he asked. He'd do whatever Greg needed, and if that meant finding an excuse to get Greg back to Vegas, that was exactly what he'd do.

He stretched out his arm and let his hand rest against the back of Greg's neck, swallowing a relieved sigh when the other man didn't flinch away from him. "Listen, tell your parents thanks again, would you?"

"You already thanked them like ten times," Greg answered, glancing over at Nick long enough to grin at him. "If you really want to score points with them you could send them a fruit basket."

Nick smiled sheepishly at that; it was true that he'd probably laid it on a little thick when he met Greg's parents, but meeting the folks wasn't something he was used to. Then there was the fact that they both knew exactly where Greg had spent the weekend; he'd called on Saturday morning so they wouldn't worry, but Nick still felt a little weird about the whole thing. It made him feel like a kid on prom night, trying to convince his date's parents that they weren't really doing anything wrong.

He didn't say anything else until Greg pulled up in front of the terminal, putting the car in park before he looked over at Nick. It had been a long time since anything really made Nick nervous, but lately whenever he thought about Greg his stomach fluttered. It was even worse when Greg was right in front of him, looking at him with a cross between expectation and uncertainty. Nick unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the arm rest, adjusting as best he could to the awkward angle as he pressed their lips together.

Greg's mouth was warm under his, his fingers clenched around the front of Nick's shirt as though he was afraid to let go. Nick's heart skipped another beat at that thought and he surged even closer in the cramped space, suddenly wishing they weren't in a public place surrounded by busy people on their way out of town. He wanted…everything – more time, a sign that this thing between them was going somewhere, some kind of assurance that Greg felt the same thing he was feeling.

He settled for another kiss, harder this time and a little desperate, and even that wasn't enough to calm the flurry of butterflies in his stomach. When he pulled away again he smiled and let his hand linger on Greg's neck for another moment, then he reached for his bag and forced himself out of the car.

"I'll give you a call," he said, hesitating for a second when Greg nodded. "And just so you know, I didn't have to tell Grissom where I was going."

~

Greg watched Nick disappear into the terminal, and after Nick was gone he stared at the empty space where the other man had been for longer than he really wanted to think about. He tried convincing himself that Nick hadn't really meant anything by what he'd said, but if that was true then Nick wouldn't have said it. No, there was only one thing he could have meant – Grissom knew about them, and if Grissom knew…there was no telling who else knew.

It made sense, especially when he considered that some temp on the night shift knew who he was when he called looking for Nick. Not that Greg really minded – he'd never been the shy type, and he'd never cared who knew the specifics of his love life. So it didn't matter to him if the entire night shift knew exactly where Nick had spent his weekend. What did bother him was the fact that Nick was concerned with who knew about his personal life – he always had been, for as long as Greg knew him he'd kept that kind of information to himself as much as he could. It didn't make any sense that he'd tell the whole night shift he was going to visit Greg.

He wanted to go after Nick, to follow him through the airport like the hero in one of those cheesy romantic movies just so he could ask what exactly Nick had meant and why it mattered that Grissom knew where he was. He wanted to know enough to risk his car getting towed, but he didn't know which flight Nick was on or even which airline to start with. He didn't know anything, and that was just starting to sink in as he pulled away from the curb and pointed his car toward the freeway.

This weekend…it wasn't supposed to happen at all, but once Nick was standing in front of him Greg told himself maybe it was for the best. At least now they knew what they'd been missing, and they wouldn't have to spend the rest of their lives wondering. He'd told himself the not knowing was worse – as long as he didn't know for sure his imagination could invent all kinds of amazing possibilities, but once they slept together he'd have the reality to dispel whatever wild fantasies he could come up with.

He'd never expected the reality to live up to the fantasy. That wasn't supposed to happen, just like Nick wasn't supposed to show up in the first place, then leave him with a promise to call like this was just the first step in their relationship. They didn't even have a relationship – a relationship was about fun, it was about two people who connected on a level that defied explanation. And okay, they had that second part down, that much Greg was sure of after the past two days. But he wasn't having any fun, and he couldn't believe Nick was really looking forward to a string of phone calls and an occasional weekend here and there.

Then there was the fact that Greg was already thinking about the next time, as though they'd agreed to see each other again. Only he was pretty sure they had, because even though neither of them had said the words out loud it was pretty obvious Nick hadn't just said goodbye.

He told himself he was being stupid, that it was just sex and as soon as Nick was back in Vegas none of this would feel so intense. But Nick was gone already and Greg could still feel him, his hands on Greg's skin and their mouths fitted together and Nick pressing inside him. He could still feel Nick's fingers tracing the scars on his back when he thought Greg was asleep, sending little shivers up and down his spine, and he could feel the weight of Nick's cock on his tongue as Greg took him into his mouth. It was just sex, but it didn't feel like just anything, and he knew how hard it was going to be to forget.

Maybe if they'd left the hotel room for more than just to get some food things wouldn't have felt so intense between them. At the time it had been easy to rationalize – it wasn't like Greg had brought extra clothes with him, and they didn't really have enough time to go sightseeing. Besides, Nick hadn't seemed all that anxious to go anywhere, and Greg hadn't seen the point in arguing. Now that it was over he knew he probably should have, but that was the problem with hindsight.

He let out a heavy sigh as he pulled up in front of his house and shut off the engine, closing his eyes for a few seconds to try and clear his head before he went inside and faced his parents. It was too much to hope that they weren't home – he wasn't that lucky, and even if he was he knew he'd have to face them eventually. Still, he kind of wished he didn't have to do it in the clothes he'd been wearing the last time he saw them.

He tugged his collar up a little as he walked up the driveway, making sure his shirt was buttoned all the way up to hide the bruises on his neck and collarbone. Just as he suspected, when he walked into the kitchen both his parents were sitting at the table, sipping coffee and passing sections of the paper back and forth. They both glanced up when he walked in, and he willed himself not to blush. "Hi."

"Hi, honey," his mother said, setting down her section of the paper long enough to smile at him. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yeah," he answered, heat creeping up his neck even though he was way too old to be embarrassed about his sex life. "I would have mentioned it before Nick showed up, but he didn't tell me he was coming."

"He mentioned something about that," his mother answered in a way that made Greg wonder if she knew more about his relationship with Nick than even he did. "Such a nice boy. Very polite."

Greg rolled his eyes when his father echoed the sentiment; hearing Nick referred to as a 'boy' was bad enough, but it was pretty obvious his parents were already crazy about him. He swallowed the irrational urge to tell them Nick wouldn't be sticking around and turned toward the door that led to the rest of the house, pushing it open and heading upstairs before they could ask him any more questions. It didn't really hurt if his parents wanted to think Nick was an important part of his life, and it definitely beat explaining that he'd just spent the whole weekend with someone they'd probably never see again.

He wouldn't have to worry about it if he had his own place. He'd been putting off looking for awhile, but he was running out of excuses and he wasn't even sure anymore why he kept stalling. It would make everyone's life easier – his parents wouldn't have to wonder where he was when he didn't show up for dinner, and he wouldn't have to fight so much traffic on his way to work. Moving out was the next logical step in getting his life back together, and now that he had a job he could afford it.

He pulled on clean clothes before he went back downstairs, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down at the kitchen table. "Can I have the classifieds?" he asked, smiling his thanks when his father handed them over.

"I thought you were happy with your job."

"I am," Greg answered as he flipped to the rentals. "Figured it's time to start looking for my own place. I can't keep cramping your style forever."

He grinned when his father smiled at him, ignoring the knowing look in the older man's eyes. He'd always been able to talk to them about the really important stuff, but there were some things he'd just as soon never talk to his parents about.

"There's no rush, honey," his mother said, and Greg had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"Yeah, I know." He smiled and turned back to the paper, scanning the apartment listings in the city for something that sounded reasonably livable. She was still worried about him – he couldn't blame her, not after the explosion and the rehab, but he couldn't use that as an excuse to stay. As long as he was still living with them it felt too much like this was temporary, and it was way past time to make it feel permanent.

~

Nobody asked Nick about his weekend on his first night back in the lab. He told himself that was a good thing, that maybe it meant they were finally learning to mind their own business, or at the very least moving on to a more interesting topic. There were a few looks – some of them knowing, some of them just curious – but they were easy enough to ignore, and as long as nobody asked him it didn't have to matter what they thought.

And he knew he wasn't fooling anybody, but he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about it yet. There was still a sense of unreality about the whole thing, like maybe he'd just imagined the past two days with Greg. It would be easy to believe that it was all his imagination if he didn't have bruises and marks on his skin to show for it, marks that were shaped an awful lot like Greg's mouth. Greg's mouth that he could still feel on his own, against his skin and swallowing his cock, and Nick was already half-hard just from the memory.

He shook his head and refocused his attention on the crime scene he was supposed to be working, telling himself there was a time and a place and this past weekend was supposed to help him get a grip on his feelings, not make them even worse. Things between him and Greg were more concrete now, they had a focus and a direction and that meant he should be able to focus on his job and think about Greg only when it didn't interfere with anything else. He'd always been able to do that with relationships in the past, and there was no reason that now should be any different.

Only it was, just like everything about Greg was different from what Nick usually let himself feel. It was new and exciting and terrifying all at the same time, and he knew before he even got on the plane back to Vegas that he was too far gone to do anything about it.

He'd called Greg when he got home, but his mother said Greg was out for the afternoon. She'd kept him on the phone for a few minutes, telling him again how much they'd enjoyed his visit and inviting him to drop in any time. Like he was just down the road. Like he could just get in his car and come over for Sunday dinner, spend time sucking up to Greg's parents just the way Greg had accused him of doing. Part of Nick wished he could, and that same part of him had actually spent the flight back considering the appropriateness of sending Greg's parents a fruit basket.

He caught himself grinning at the thought and wiped the smile off his face, dropping another suspicious fiber in an open envelope and painstakingly labeling it before he moved on. He stood up, straightening a back stiff from the past hour of collecting samples, wincing at the brief, sharp pain that shot through his lower back. There was still work to do, but right now all he wanted was a long, hot shower and his bed.

What he could really use was a massage, but there wasn't much chance of that happening. The thought conjured a memory of Greg's hands on his back, mapping the muscles of his shoulders as he kissed his way down Nick's spine. As soon as the image flashed in his mind he pushed the memory away, closing his eyes for a second to clear his head. Too late he realized that was the worst thing he could do, because as soon as his eyes were closed he could feel Greg's hands on him even more clearly, breath hot against Nick's mouth in the seconds before Greg kissed him.

"Hey, man. You okay?"

Nick's eyes snapped open at the sound of the familiar voice, his cheeks flushing as he found Warrick watching him curiously. "Yeah, fine. Sorry. Just a little tired."

"Right." Warrick drew the word out in a voice that let Nick know he wasn't buying anything Nick was trying to sell, but he didn't really want to know the truth. "You about done in here?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, dropping the last of the evidence in his kit before he snapped it closed and picked it up. "I've got some samples to drop off in Trace. You following the body?"

Warrick nodded as he led Nick out of the hotel room and down the hall toward the elevators. He was one of the few people who hadn't been giving Nick weird looks or asking anything about Greg, but Nick knew he'd heard the rumors. It was impossible to work the night shift and not have heard them – at this point he was almost sure it was impossible to be employed by Clark County and not have heard about Nick and Greg.

They rode down to the lobby in silence, Warrick carefully avoiding looking at Nick and Nick carefully avoiding noticing. He understood – they were friends, but they weren't that tight and the idea of Nick and a guy had probably come as a pretty big surprise to Warrick. It had definitely come as a surprise to Sara, and he had a feeling there were more than a few people in the lab who still wondered if it was all some elaborate joke.

And he had to admit that it was kind of nice that at least one person in the lab wasn't looking at him like he was some kind of specimen. That was exactly how it had felt since he got back to Vegas; he'd been telling himself all night that it was only because it was his first night back, that as soon as everybody got used to seeing him again that they'd stop looking at him like he was one of Grissom's more exotic experiments. Except that he'd only been gone two nights, and no matter what everyone thought they knew, there was no one on the night shift who actually knew what happened in California.

"So I'll drop these at the lab and meet you at Doc's," Nick said as they reached the parking lot.

Warrick nodded once and turned toward his car, and a few seconds later he was pulling away, leaving Nick to stare after him. He told himself he was glad, that he was grateful to have one person around who wouldn't press him to talk about something that was none of their business. Because he didn't want to talk about it, at least not with anyone who wasn't Greg. Only Greg hadn't called him back yet, and Nick was starting to wonder exactly where he'd been all day that meant he couldn't return a simple phone call.

He rolled his eyes when he caught himself worrying about whether or not Greg was rethinking this whole thing. They'd both been there in that hotel room, and Greg had been just as anxious as Nick to hold on to every moment, to memorize every touch. Nick had seen it in his face, clear in his expression every time he caught Greg watching him. They hadn't needed to say it because they'd both felt the exact same thing, and trying to put it into words would just make it seem less real.

That was what he'd told himself at the time, but now his phone wasn't ringing and he was almost three hundred miles away and he felt…helpless. He told himself that Greg just needed time to think things through. He just needed time to think about Nick's offer, to swallow his pride and come back to Vegas where he belonged. The important thing was that he knew how Nick felt now – that had to count for something, and if it wasn't enough to get Greg to move back then at least it would be enough to get him to visit.

He drove back to the lab on automatic pilot, barely noticing the people he passed on the way to the trace lab. For once he avoided Hodges and dropped off his evidence with the new girl instead, forcing himself to smile when she did. She had to know why he'd been avoiding her since she started working the night shift – there were enough big mouths in the department that he knew someone would have told her, and maybe that explained why she didn't quite meet his gaze when she took his evidence.

As soon as he could he escaped from the lab, pausing when he passed Grissom's office. He told himself he shouldn't, but he could see Grissom at his desk and he didn't really look that busy. Besides, it wouldn't really hurt to ask – nobody would have to know except him and Grissom, and if Nick got the answer he was hoping for it might help him convince Greg to reconsider.

He walked into the older man's office before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, knocking on the doorframe as he stepped into the room. "Gris, you got a minute?"

"Something wrong?"

"Not exactly." Now that he was standing in front of Grissom he wasn't sure why he was doing this, but it was too late to back down now. So either he made up some problem with the case, or he said what was on his mind and got it over with. "It's about Greg."

"How's he doing?"

"Better," Nick answered automatically, willing himself not to blush at the fact that his boss knew exactly where he'd been during his short vacation. He wasn't entirely sure it was true; Greg's hands shook an awful lot that first night, especially when he first saw Nick, but by Sunday morning it was almost as if he didn't have a tremor at all. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been trying to talk him into coming back, but he doesn't think you'd rehire him."

"It's not a matter of my not wanting him here," Grissom said. Nick watched as he folded his hands carefully in front of him on the paper-strewn desk, and for a second he felt more like a kid in the principal's office than an adult talking to his boss. "His qualifications were never the issue, he knows that. The question was whether or not he could perform his job."

"Yeah, I know," Nick answered, biting back a rush of impatience, "but now the question is whether or not there's still a place for him on the night shift."

For a few sickening seconds Grissom almost looked like he was going to tell Nick no, that Greg was gone and that was that. He felt the anger clenching in his stomach, a hard weight just sort of resting there and making him feel a little queasy. Then Grissom shook his head and let out one of those little sighs that let Nick know he was trying to find the right way to explain a concept he was sure his audience wouldn't understand.

"I can't promise him his job back, Nick. We've already got a full staff. But if he's ready to come back and he wanted to apply for any future openings, his application would be at the top of the pile."

Nick knew that was the best he was going to get, and he knew better than to push any more. Instead he nodded and took a few steps toward the door, telling himself it was better than a flat refusal. "Thanks, Gris."

"You're welcome. Now I believe you've got a case to solve?"

Nick grinned sheepishly and turned on his heel, walking out of Grissom's office and toward the front door. It wasn't exactly the answer he'd been hoping for, but it was better than it could have been, and with any luck it would help convince Greg to change his mind.

~

He knew he should have called by now. He should have called back that first night when he knew Nick would be at work and left a message on Nick's machine, just so he could say he'd tried. Nick had called since then, of course – he was nothing if not persistent, and Greg never would have figured him for the type who couldn't take a hint. Only he had a feeling Nick knew exactly why Greg was avoiding him, and he knew Nick wasn't going to give up easily.

The problem was that Greg didn't know what he wanted. Sometimes he wished Nick would just forget about him, move on with his life and forget they ever knew each other. Other times he wanted Nick to call – or worse, he found himself hoping Nick would show up out of the blue again. He'd caught himself thinking about it on the drive home from work the past two days, wondering what he'd do if he walked into the house and found Nick sitting at the kitchen table, making conversation with his mother as though he belonged there.

He knew it wasn't going to happen. Nick might be stubborn and more impulsive than Greg had ever given him credit for, but he wasn't going to blow off work. That was an obligation he took seriously, and not even Greg was enough of a distraction to make him forget that. Not that Greg wanted Nick to ruin his career over this…whatever it was. He couldn't really call it a relationship, but it was more than just sex. If it was just sex Nick wouldn't have called as soon as he got back to town on Sunday, and he wouldn't have called again on Tuesday when Greg didn't call back.

It was Wednesday now, and Greg left work and drove straight to his appointment with an apartment manager just a few blocks from campus. And he wasn't wondering if there would be another call from Nick on the machine when he got home, just like he wasn't feeling guilty that he hadn't called Nick back. He'd been busy, and apartment hunting wasn't easy in L.A., so he had a good excuse. He had an excuse, and Nick was just going to have to understand that he had a life of his own.

Only he knew Nick wouldn't ask for an explanation when Greg finally called him back, and that made him feel even worse. Nick would be understanding, he wouldn't push or try to make Greg feel bad for blowing him off. He wouldn't say anything out loud, anyway, but he was good at making Greg feel guilty without actually saying the words.

Like that thing at the airport, announcing out of the blue that Grissom already knew about them. That was a message – it had taken Greg awhile to decipher it, but he finally got what it meant. It had been Nick's way of telling him that this wasn't just some fling for him, that he wasn't just getting Greg out of his system. He wanted…something, something Greg probably couldn't give him. The hints about coming back to Vegas, the way he kept bringing up Greg's old job – even the way he'd inspected Greg's hands when they were together, like he was trying to convince himself that Greg was all better and the tremor was gone.

Part of him was thrilled that Nick wanted him back in Vegas. He couldn't help it – two years was a long time to carry a torch for someone he never thought he'd have a chance with, and it was hard not to react when he found out how wrong he'd been. That was why he'd spent a whole weekend in a hotel with Nick, why he'd driven him to the airport and let Nick kiss him goodbye like they were actually going to see each other again.

He knew better, but he'd let it happen anyway because he'd wanted it for so long than he couldn't pass up what was probably his only opportunity to have it. But now…now Nick wanted Greg to be exactly the same as he was before the explosion, and that was impossible. Even if he hadn't lost his job because of the accident he would have changed. It was inevitable, just like it was inevitable that Catherine would start being more careful in the lab and Sara would start rethinking the way her life was going.

These things were supposed to change people – hadn't he heard that from every doctor and every shrink the hospital had paraded past him before they finally sent him home? They hadn't done him any good, but now he wished he could get one of them to explain some of this to Nick.

None of his frustration changed the fact that Nick wanted him, though, and whenever the thought snuck up on him he still felt the same wave of startled awe. It was enough to make him think about showing up in Vegas for a weekend, just for a second before he really thought about what it would mean to show up in Vegas, and then the panic took hold again. Because he wanted…more, more of Nick and more of whatever they'd started in that hotel room, but just the thought of Vegas made his hands twitch against the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of the apartment complex that advertised quiet and a partial view.

The view bit was crap, he knew that much, and considering the residents were most likely almost all students he figured the quiet part was crap too. Still, the price was right, and as long as it was clean and available he didn't care about much else. It was just a place to sleep, really, and student housing meant they wouldn't require a full year's lease. He wasn't sure why exactly that was important, but whenever he found himself thinking about it he just told himself he wanted to keep his options open.

Not that he had many options these days, he reminded himself as he let himself into the rental office. He pasted on his friendliest grin for the benefit of the receptionist, told her his name and settled into one of the worn armchairs pushed back against the far wall. He flipped through a brochure while he waited, staring at the different floor plans without really taking in the details. This was the fourth place he'd looked at, and the apartments were already starting to blend together. The truth was that they all looked pretty much the same – four white walls, worn, nondescript carpet, and a balcony that was just big enough to display the nonexistent 'view' every complex in L.A. boasted.

The door to the inner office opened and he looked up, turning his smile back on as a tired-looking man in a dingy white work shirt walked toward him. "Mr. Sanders?" the man asked, holding out his hand as he descended on Greg.

"Greg," he answered, taking the other man's hand and shaking it briefly.

"Thanks for waiting," the manager said, producing a ring of keys out of nowhere. "You wanted to look at the one bedroom model?"

"If you've got any available," Greg answered, dropping the brochure back on the table as the other man led the way to the door.

"Just so happens one just opened up. It's right this way."

Greg followed him up a set of concrete stairs, past a sun-bleached concrete pool at the center of the complex. They stopped at the far end of the second story, and Greg listened to the traffic in the background as he waited for the manager to find the right key. At least it sounded like Vegas, he told himself as he followed the older man inside, blinking against the sudden change in light.

Once his eyes adjusted he glanced around – there was a small galley kitchen just off a bland, square living room carpeted in what probably started off as a beige shag. The balcony was past a set of sliding glass doors on the far side of the living room, but at least it was the second floor so he wouldn't have to worry too much about break-ins. The bedroom looked pretty much like every other apartment he'd looked at, and there was a small bathroom at the end of the hall. Less than five minutes later he'd seen the entire place.

"Of course this model doesn't have a view," the apartment manager said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the balcony, "so the rent's a little lower. There's another unit opening up at the end of the month…"

"But I could move in to this one right away."

"Once your application and credit check are processed, of course," the older man answered, pursing his lips for a second before he continued, "the unit would be available immediately, yes."

Greg nodded and took one last look around, ignoring the nagging feeling that he should think this through a little more before he did anything drastic. "Great. Can I fill out that application today?"

~

When the machine picked up Nick let out a frustrated sigh and hung up the phone. He didn't bother to leave yet another message – he knew it wouldn't do any good, and besides, he'd already left three messages for Greg since Sunday. He was starting to feel like a stalker; this wasn't the way things were supposed to go, he wasn't supposed to spend more time on the phone with Greg's mom than with Greg himself.

It had been nearly a week since Nick last spoke to Greg, and he was starting to think he'd pushed too far with that parting shot about Grissom. He'd pushed too hard and made Greg nervous, and now he was backing off entirely. That was exactly the opposite of what was supposed to happen, but Nick couldn't do anything to fix it if Greg wouldn't even return his calls.

He was still brooding when the phone rang; the sudden break in the silence made him flinch, and he reminded himself that it was probably just a family member or Grissom calling him in on his day off as he reached for the cordless. "Stokes."

"Still trying to be Grissom when you grow up?"

The sound of Greg's voice sent a wave of relief through him, followed quickly by anger. He wasn't surprised that the first thing out of Greg's mouth after five days of silence was a joke, but that didn't mean he had to go along with it. "If you don't like the way I answer my phone you could always call somebody else."

A long pause was his only answer, and he worked hard not to regret snapping. If Greg didn't want to deal…well, Nick didn't have to like it, but he couldn't make Greg want the same things he did. He was starting to think that maybe Greg hung up, but a few seconds later a throat cleared and he had to sit down before his knees gave out on him.

"Guess I should have called earlier."

He was probably just hearing what he wanted to hear, but it almost sounded like Greg was sorry. Whether it was just guilt or an actual apology Nick had no idea, but he let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes to picture Greg on the other end of the line. "Look, G, I'm not…I just need to know what we're doing here."

"I was hoping you knew," Greg said, and there was just enough nervous laughter behind the joke to make Nick think that maybe he hadn't imagined everything he thought Greg felt about him. "It's just been a really busy week, but I should have called."

"Yeah? What have you been doing all week?" And he wasn't jealous – he didn't have any claim on Greg, for one thing, and he couldn't expect Greg to sit around in his room when Nick wasn't around.

"I found an apartment."

The words hit him harder than they should have. As soon as Greg said it Nick told himself he shouldn't be surprised, that Greg didn't have any intention of moving back to Vegas, and it was only a matter of time before he found a place of his own. That didn't make him feel any less like he'd just been punched in the stomach, though, and he had to remind himself to breathe before he could even think about coming up with an answer.

"When…when are you moving?"

"As soon as my application goes through," Greg answered. "They're waiting on the credit check, but I should get the keys on Monday. Would have been nice if I could have moved in over the weekend, but what can you do."

"Yeah, lousy timing," Nick heard himself say, but he wasn't really paying attention to the conversation. His brain was already working overtime to think of something, anything he could do to stop this from happening. When he caught himself wondering who owed him a favor and how he could get them to mess with Greg's credit history he shook his head and stood up, pacing the living room in an effort to regain some control.

He forced himself to focus on Greg's voice as the other man tried to sell him on the new place, but it sounded a lot like Greg was trying to convince himself this was the right thing to do. Somewhere in the back of Nick's head a voice was screaming for him to tell Greg that it wasn't, that this was the worst thing he could do. He wanted Greg to pack up his stuff and leave his parents' house, sure, but he wanted Greg to move back to Vegas. He wanted Greg here, in his house, with him all the time. And maybe that was moving way too fast considering they weren't even really dating, but he was way beyond thinking rationally about what was happening between them.

"Listen, G," he interrupted, stopping Greg right in the middle of telling him how close his new place was to campus, "there's something I need to tell you. It's the reason I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. I talked to Grissom…"

"Nick," Greg warned, but it was already too late, because he was talking right over Greg as though he hadn't even heard him.

"He can't guarantee you your job back, but he made it pretty clear that when you're ready your name would be at the top of the list. If you called him he might bring you back as a trainee – there's money in the budget for a new CSI, and someone's going to get promoted this year…"

"Nick." Louder this time and laced with anger, and Nick paused long enough to realize what he was doing. He was pushing again, but suddenly he wasn't sure he cared whether or not he pushed Greg away completely. If Greg didn't even want to try then there was no point in Nick waiting around just to be disappointed later. "I'm not coming back."

"Why not? We're talking about the job you always wanted. You don't have to throw that away just because you're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed," Greg snapped. "This isn't about why I left."

"Then what's it about?" Nick asked. He knew any second now Greg was going to get really mad, maybe even tell him to lose his number, but if they couldn't even talk about it then there was no reason for Nick to keep calling. "You can spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself if you want, but it's not going to change anything."

He knew he shouldn't have said it. He knew as the words were leaving his mouth that he was going to regret it. Greg had every right to be angry about what happened to him, and it wasn't the kind of thing anyone could just get over. That didn't mean he had to let it ruin his life, though, and Nick couldn't believe the Greg Sanders he'd known for the past five years was going to give up just because of a temporary setback.

"G, I'm sorry," he said when he was met with heavy silence on the other end of the line. "I didn't mean…"

"Do me a favor," Greg interrupted, "save it for somebody who wants to hear it."

The line clicked before he could answer, and Nick sat frozen on his couch and listened to static until the dial tone finally roused him out of his trance. He hung up the phone and dropped it on the coffee table, closing his eyes and running his hands over his face. He still didn't know what was going on between them, and now he wasn't so sure he was ever going to find out.

~

It took Greg a few hours to start feeling guilty, but by the time he started to regret hanging up on Nick it seemed like it was too late to call him back. The truth was that Nick had been right – Greg was embarrassed about the way he left, and he'd spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself in the past few months. Those weren't the biggest reasons he didn't want to go back to Las Vegas, but they were close enough to the truth to sting.

Not that he was entirely at fault. Nick just wouldn't let the Vegas thing go, and even though part of Greg was flattered, he was getting a little tired of hearing about it. He didn't want to call Grissom and ask for his job back; he liked California, and anyway he was making more money at his new job than he had been at the crime lab. He'd told Grissom once that it wasn't about the money and he still believed it, but he wasn't sure he could make Nick understand what it was about.

Maybe Nick was right and he was just letting his pride get in the way of his happiness, but it wasn't like he was miserable in L.A. He liked his job, he liked his friends and it was kind of nice to be close to his parents again. His new apartment wasn't much to look at, but it wasn't that different from his place in Vegas, and besides it wasn't like he was planning to spend a lot of time there. All California was really missing was Nick, but he had a feeling he'd screwed that up anyway.

It wasn't that hard not to think about it while he was busy repacking the few things he'd bothered to unpack in the first place. Getting his keys and moving his things from his parents' place to the apartment took up most of his free time for almost a week, but when he found himself alone in an apartment surrounded by boxes it was hard to stop himself from thinking. There wasn't much else to do, really, because unpacking all the stuff he hadn't seen since Vegas just reminded him of exactly what he'd left behind.

Everything reminded him of the lab – his textbooks, the coffee mug he'd kept on his lab station for as long as he could remember, even that stupid surfboard keychain he'd fished out of his drawer the day he'd packed up the last of his stuff. He pushed the memory of the lab to the back of his mind and tried to focus on the future, on everything he could do now that he was back in California. His hands had stopped shaking so much, and with any luck he'd be ready to get back out on the waves by next season. Steve had made him promise he'd drag his surfboard out of his parents' basement, and now it was leaning against the wall in his new living room, just waiting for Greg to pull himself together.

There was a lot to look forward to, and nothing that he'd left behind couldn't be replaced or forgotten eventually. He wasn't missing anything – not even Nick, because sure, Greg had wanted him for a long time, but it wasn't like they were committed or anything. Even if they were it wouldn't matter, because he was here and Nick had no intention of leaving Vegas. He wanted Greg, but on his own terms, and he was asking for something Greg couldn't afford to give.

When he got to the stack of CDs Nick had bought to replace the ones that had melted in the lab his lips twitched into an involuntary smile – it was impossible not to picture Nick standing in the door to his bedroom looking nervous and hopeful, a little confused but determined too, like he knew what he wanted and he wasn't planning to take no for an answer. And he hadn't, at least not until Greg hung up on him.

Before he could stop himself he was reaching for the phone, telling himself it was too late even as he dialed Nick's number. He expected to get the machine – part of him wanted to get the machine, so he could leave a message telling Nick he was sorry but it was probably for the best if they just called it off now. That was the smartest thing to do, because he wasn't going back to Vegas and Nick wasn't going to let the subject drop.

He rehearsed his speech in his head while he listened to the phone ring, and when the machine did pick up he told himself he wasn't disappointed. It was better this way, because now he wouldn't have to hear Nick agree that they should quit while they were ahead. He steeled himself for the beep, but before Nick's recorded voice got to the part about leaving a name and number the line crackled, and a second later a sleepy voice murmured 'hello?' in his ear.

"Nick."

A second of silence, then Nick's throat cleared and he heard the rustle of sheets and God, Greg could just picture him stretched out on his mattress. "Greg?"

"Yeah. Sorry. For waking you up. I mean, I'm sorry for hanging up on you – that's why I called, but I thought you'd be at work."

"So you called to apologize to my machine?" He sounded more awake now, but Greg couldn't tell if he was still mad or just tired.

"I guess. I didn't really plan it out first."

Nick laughed at that, and when Greg heard him moving again he couldn't help picturing it. He bit back a groan and closed his eyes, but all that did was make Nick's voice sound even more like it was right in his ear. "I figured I blew it for good. I didn't expect to hear from you."

And he was so stupid, because he'd had the perfect out and he'd screwed it up. All he'd had to do was not call, just forget about Nick and move on with his life, and Nick would have done the same. It would have been so easy, but then he never would have gotten to hear Nick's voice, still thick with sleep and whispering right in his ear. He hated himself for being so weak, but he closed his eyes again anyway and leaned back on the couch to picture Nick on the other end of the line.

"Look, I just…I need to know what you want from me."

Nick sighed heavily and Greg tensed – he knew what was coming before Nick said it, but he'd asked and he couldn't take it back. "I want you to come home."

"I am home."

"You know what I mean," Nick said, and this wasn't fair, because his voice was low and thick and Greg wanted to ask what he was wearing just so he could hear Nick say 'nothing'. "We've got a shot at something here. The timing sucks, yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't still try."

"It was one weekend. It doesn't change anything." He didn't believe that any more than Nick did – they'd both been there, and they both knew how much had changed in one weekend – but he almost wished it was true. At least then it would be easier to walk away.

"You know that's not true. Even if it was just the weekend it changes things."

He wanted to tell Nick that it was just sex, because even though it would be a lie it would still sting. But just the fact that he knew exactly how to hurt Nick stopped him from saying it; he had no idea when he'd gotten this weak or this sentimental, just like he didn't know when he'd fallen in love with Nick or what to do about it. "So what do we do now?"

"Come to Vegas," Nick said, talking fast so Greg wouldn't have a chance to interrupt, "just for a visit. We need…we should do this face to face."

It had barely been two weeks since the last time they saw each other, but Greg knew exactly what Nick meant. He hadn't been able to think about anything else since the moment Nick got out of his car, but he knew exactly what would happen if he went back to Vegas. Nick would spend the entire time trying to convince Greg of why he should move back, and Greg would spend the whole time feeling completely off-balance. "I can't."

He expected an argument, but instead Nick just sighed and tried again. "I'll come there, then. I've got a couple vacation days left, and I can get Warrick or somebody to switch shifts with me."

And this was a bad idea, because one weekend had changed things, but another one wasn't going to make any difference. All it would do was make it harder to finally call it off when they figured out it wasn't working, and that had to happen eventually. Vegas wasn't that far from L.A., but it might as well be in an ocean away while they were trying to work out a relationship.

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"I know," Nick answered. "I just need to see you."

He knew he was going to regret it before he agreed, but when he opened his mouth the words tumbled out, yes and okay and he had to bite back a desperate hurry. He wanted Nick there now, wanted the waiting to be over with so he could lose himself in feeling for awhile and not have to think about what happened when Nick went back to Vegas.

~

It took two weeks for Nick to clear his schedule. Two weeks for three days with Greg, and he'd had to threaten to tell Warrick exactly why he wanted the time off to get him to switch nights with Nick. It was worth whatever he had to do, though, worth the looks from everyone at work and the crowded flight and the stares he got when he saw Greg waiting at the gate and stopped short, forgetting for a second where he was and that there was a crowd of people behind him.

He was jolted back to reality when someone collided with him, and he mumbled an apology and tightened his grip on his bag, threading his way through the crowd to stop in front of Greg. "I thought you were at work."

"Left early. Told them I had to pick someone up at the airport."

Nick didn't even try to stop himself from reaching out, fingers sliding through Greg's hair and down the back of his neck. For the first time in his life he didn't care who was watching, but he wasn't sure how Greg would feel if he kissed him right in front of an entire airport full of people, so he settled for sliding his arm around the other man's shoulders and looking around. "Which way's your car?"

Greg laughed and nodded toward the right, and several frustrating minutes later they found themselves in the relative privacy of the airport parking lot. There were a few people around, but most of them were too focused on their bags to notice Nick catching Greg around the waist and pressing him up against his car.

"When do you have to be back?" Greg asked, his hands already working their way under Nick's shirt, and maybe he wouldn't have minded the public kissing so much after all.

"Monday afternoon," Nick answered between kisses, the words murmured against Greg's mouth. And he didn't want to talk about going back; he didn't even want to think about leaving, not until he had to. "Think you can take Monday off too?"

"I already did." Greg pulled away with an effort, palms flat against Nick's chest to push him to a safe distance. "My place. Now."

Nick grinned at the breathless demand and tossed his bag in the back seat, then slid into the passenger seat and shifted to try to find a comfortable position in his suddenly too-tight jeans. He had no idea where Greg's new place was, but unless it was actually in the airport it was way too far away. The drive into the city went by in a blur, and by the time he was inside Greg's apartment Nick couldn't remember a single thing about the drive. There was some small talk about Greg's folks and Nick's flight, but most of the drive was more or less a tension-filled silence, and Nick had to fight to keep his hands to himself so he wouldn't cause an accident.

Once the door closed behind him he forced himself to stop long enough to look around, taking in the boxes still stacked around the living room and the couch pushed up against the far wall. He wasn't really interested in Greg's décor, though, and when Greg grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him forward Nick got the impression he wasn't really interested in giving Nick a tour.

"Nice place."

"It's a dive," Greg answered, the words muffled against Nick's neck, "but it's close to work."

His hands slid back under Nick's shirt, pushing the fabric up and over his chest. Nick pulled back long enough to tug it off, dropping it on the floor before he reached for Greg again and pushed him forward toward what he assumed was the bedroom. He got Greg's shirt off before they reached the door, and by the time they actually made it to the bed there was a trail of clothes behind them. And this was all he'd been thinking about for the past two weeks, but when Greg was finally stretched out under him Nick paused, bracing himself on one arm to look down at the other man.

"What?" Greg asked, and God, he actually sounded worried that Nick might be changing his mind. He had no idea…he couldn't, because if he did he'd never worry about how Nick felt about him again.

"I meant what I said, G. I miss you." For a second Greg's eyes clouded and Nick thought maybe he'd screwed up already. He was starting to develop a real talent for saying exactly the wrong thing whenever Greg was concerned, but he'd flown back to California so they could work everything out, and that wasn't going to happen if he didn't say what he was thinking.

Greg shrugged and slid one hand down the center of Nick's chest, and when his mouth twitched into a grin Nick's heart skipped a beat. "Of course you do. Your life's gotta be pretty boring without me around."

He laughed and rolled onto his side, playfully swatting Greg's hip. "Smartass."

"I don't know if my ass is smart," he began, but he trailed off with a gasp when Nick's hand slid over the ass in question, two fingers pressing against the taut skin behind his balls. Nick took advantage of his surprise to press their lips together, his tongue sliding into Greg's mouth as he pressed the tip of his finger inside the other man.

When he pulled away Greg was panting, one knee bent and slung over Nick's hips to give Nick better access. And he looked better than Nick remembered, pale skin flushed and his whole body pressing back into Nick's touch. His eyes were closed, and before Nick could stop himself he was leaning forward, pressing kisses to Greg's eyelids, then his cheeks, feathering kisses along whatever skin he could reach. He wanted everything, and he knew three days was never going to be enough.

His stomach clenched at the thought but he pushed it away roughly, pulling his hand away from Greg to push him onto his back again. "Do you have any protection?"

"Yeah," Greg answered, his voice breaking on the single syllable, "in…in the drawer."

He gestured vaguely toward the nightstand, and jealousy surged up hot inside of Nick as he wondered who else had been in this bed since Greg moved into his new place. He pushed himself up long enough to open the drawer and pull out a box of condoms, dropping it on the mattress and grabbing the lube before he crawled back over Greg. "We need to talk."

"Now?"

"I just want to know if you're sleeping with anybody else."

For a second Greg just looked confused, then he frowned and shook his head. "Jesus…no. I mean I know I've got a reputation and all, but I'm usually a one-person kind of guy."

"Good," Nick said, biting back a comment about exactly what kind of reputation Greg had. "Me too."

"So is there anything else you wanted to talk about, or do you think we can get back to what we were doing?" Greg asked, thrusting up against Nick to illustrate his point.

Nick bit back a groan and fumbled for the lube he'd dropped on the mattress. "I'm good for now."

He squeezed some of the clear liquid onto his fingers and dropped the bottle again, shifting onto his side to slide two fingers inside Greg this time. He knew better than to read too much into the fact that Greg wasn't seeing anybody else, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted it to mean something, wanted it to mean that Greg felt the same way he did. Even if it didn't automatically spell a future for them it was a start.

His mouth moved on Greg's skin, down his neck and then his chest, seeking out all the spots on Greg that made him gasp and clamp down hard on Nick's fingers. Greg's hands flexed against his shoulders, digging in hard enough to leave angry-looking red marks against Nick's skin. When he started babbling Nick pulled back long enough to reach for a condom, sliding it down his length and running a slick hand over his cock before he knelt between Greg's legs and pushed his knees toward his chest.

He slid into tight heat in one smooth motion, closing his eyes against the urge to push when Greg tensed. His hands moved in soothing circles along Greg's skin, his breath coming in short gasps as he waited for Greg to relax. When he finally did Nick sank into him, leaning forward to brace his hands on either side of Greg's shoulders. He pressed their lips together for a hard kiss as he began moving his hips, in slow circles at first until Greg was panting and pushing up against him, murmuring things like now and more and a few things Nick couldn't make out.

"Pushy," Nick muttered just to hear Greg laugh, but he shifted a little, angling his hips until he found the spot that made Greg gasp and arch up against him. And there were a thousand things he needed to tell Greg, but he knew if he said any of them right now it would be way too easy to write it off as the heat of the moment, and when he said 'I love you' for the first time he wanted to make sure Greg believed him.

Instead he focused on hitting Greg's prostate with each stroke, over and over until finally Greg was begging incoherently. He reached between them and wrapped a strong hand around Greg's cock, stroking in time with his own thrusts until Greg was pushing up into his hand, demanding more without saying a word. Nick gave it gladly, tightening his grip and pressing his thumb hard along the underside of Greg's cock over and over until he came with a low, broken moan.

He thrust one more time, groaning when Greg clamped down hard on his cock to hold him there, burying himself as deep as he could before he came. Warm hands slid across his sweat-slick back when Nick collapsed onto Greg's chest, breathing hard against his neck. He wanted to go back to the beginning and start all over as soon as he caught his breath, because getting up and cleaning themselves up meant they were going to have to talk, and suddenly he wasn't sure he was ready for that. What he wanted to do was stay just like this for as long as possible, with Greg's fingers tracing little circles on his back and his heart beating against Nick's ear.

It was impossible, though, and too soon Nick was pushing himself up, pulling out of Greg and forcing himself off the mattress to find the bathroom. He was washing his hands when he felt something move behind him, and he glanced in the mirror to find Greg watching him.

"You want a shower?" Greg asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a suggestive grin.

Relief hit Nick hard and he smiled back at Greg's reflection before he turned around, pulling the other man close. "As long as you're coming."

"We just did that," Greg answered, raising and eyebrow as he looked Nick up and down. "But we could always try again."

Part 04