Fic: I Wanted You Nearer, PG
Title: I Wanted You Nearer
Author: michigangirl30
Fandom and Pairing: CSI:, Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Prompt: Touch, #15 Epiphany
Warnings: Set in Season 6, small spoilers for Grave Danger.
Notes: This was started a long while ago, I think as another idea for the 'smoke' or 'dirty' challenge.
Summary: Who's to blame for so much wasted time?
The shift had started out innocently enough. Productive even, with the call to investigate a possible arson coming at the exact moment he’d finished the tedious task of piecing together several shredded documents. And when he’d gotten paired with Greg on the case, his initial reaction was one of simple pleasure at having the opportunity to teach instead of being taught. Never mind that being in the field with Greg held a different sort of pleasure than, say, working with Warrick or Sara, but he pushed the errant thought away.
At the scene, the pair got right to work, that initial pleasant feeling soon became a relaxed rhythm, Greg proving to once again be an interested and quick study, following Nick’s lead, asking questions only rarely. A comfortable silence fell over them when the task no longer required conversation.
As they continued to work, crouching and sifting, the warmth of the room caused a light sweat to form on Nick’s skin. He looked up to make a comment about it to Greg, some inane joke about saunas and Vegas heat. It turned out, however, that Greg was feeling the affects of the heat already, as Nick could see from the high color in the younger CSI’s face. Head tipped downward, concentration knitted Greg’s brow as his hands sifted through ash and debris, the remains of what appeared to have been a desk.
Suddenly enthralled by the quiet intensity of Greg’s focus, Nick watched from his close position as a glistening bead of sweat started it’s slow descent downward toward one flushed cheek. When the trickle slipped past the apex of his cheekbone, Greg swiped unconsciously at it, leaving a smear of soot across most of his cheek. Without thinking, Nick reached out to brush at the mark, his gloved fingers barely touching the heated skin. Greg went completely still, but his searching eyes landed squarely on Nick’s own surprised face.
Nick coughed just then, a horrible choking sound. A tightness coupled with a harsh scratching sensation gripped his chest and lungs. His thighs already burning from the long moments of squatting over debris, the large muscles clenched in protest as the coughing would not subside. His balance lost, he felt himself about to teeter over onto his backside, but a strong hand gripped his arm hard and yanked him to his feet.
“Come on. Let’s get you outside.” Greg’s voice buzzed inside his head,
his watering eyes unable to make out more than a blur vaguely shaped like Greg, he allowed himself to be led from the house.
He wheezed out, “Sorry,” and coughed again as they emerged into the night air. Pulling off his gloves, he immediately rubbed at his stinging eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. Or talk. Just breathe, ok?” Greg sounded genuinely concerned and for the first time in many weeks, Nick didn’t find another’s concern irritating and disproportionate to the situation.
Nick nodded and blinked away more tears, doubly heartened by the gentle hand Greg laid on his back.
The coughing finally lessened and he leaned back into that hand to look up at the sky and the stars, too dim to be described as twinkling. A long moment passed, the contact between them familiar in it’s casualness, but the silence felt full, rather than empty. Greg broke away first to trot over to the Tahoe, strip off his gloves and return with two bottles of water. Twisting the cap off one, he handed it to Nick and asked, “Feeling better?”
Daring to look directly at Greg under the cover of the semi-darkness, Nick smiled into brown eyes that twinkled impossibly- in direct contrast to the lackluster stars. “Thanks to your quick thinkin’.”
Greg huffed air out his nose. “Yeah. I’m a real hero.”
The scoff wasn’t something Nick expected. “What? You don’t take 'thank you’s anymore?”
Greg looked away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, it’s -nothing.” He stopped to take a deep breath and took a moment before looking back at Nick, his smile losing it’s previous strength. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Nick was confused at this sudden change in attitude, but he tried what always seemed to work on Greg. Pointing, not touching this time, at the smear of soot on Greg’s face, he teased, “Well, if you weren’t so into your job, you could have stopped me from breathing in all that dust. Gonna have to start calling you ‘Sara’.”
Greg reached up, his chin dropping, and rubbed his face indifferently, missing the spot completely. “I guess there are worse things to be called.”
‘Hero.. glad you’re okay.. worse things...’ Sometimes it took a brick, sometimes it took a sigh, but it was never the same with one person to the next. The others had shown changes, of course, Grissom with his careful indifference and Sara’s self-assigned task of keeping an eye on him, while simultaneously pushing him to get beyond it.
And here was Greg, who hadn’t gotten that sort of consideration from him yet. From the first moment he’d seen Greg after being pulled from the ground until this moment, Greg hadn’t seemed all that different. Maybe a little quieter, more focused on learning his job, possibly a little more serious. Damn. Why did he have a harder time reading Greg? Had his feelings always been this hidden or was it just Nick’s own attractions clouding their communication?
Despite that attraction (or because of it, he couldn’t say at this point, it had been far too long), he still wanted to try and comfort his friend. It was just part of his nature to empathize, he couldn’t help but try to put himself in Greg’s shoes, helpless to do anything, desperate for that one clue that would solve the mystery before it was too late. Reaching out to anyone had been hard, Nick hadn’t wanted to burden anyone with the details- what little they hadn’t seen anyway- and he certainly didn’t want to make Greg feel any worse.
Between the two of them, the small touches seemed to speak louder than any words they could ever say. So with that thought in mind, he pushed aside all his trepidation about misinterpretation and encircled Greg’s errant hand with one of his own, pulling it away from the still sullied cheek. “Here.” With one firm stroke of his thumb, he wiped away the smudge, the warmth of the skin beneath registering more than it should. “I really am okay, Greg.”
Greg’s expression was still hard to read, but he didn’t pull away, as Nick expected him to. He studied Nick’s face, opened his mouth as if to respond, but silently closed it again. His eyes made another lap around Nick’s features, stopping at Nick’s chin before he finally did speak. “I didn’t mean to bring that up, you don’t need people reminding you of it.”
Nick squeezed the hand he still held, putting his free hand on Greg’s opposite shoulder, so that they now stood face to face, an arm’s length apart. “But you shouldn’t feel like you have to tiptoe around me either. If there’s something on your mind, I’ll try to clear up whatever it is.”
Greg continued to stare at the region of Nick’s chin, “Does it get easier?”
Unsure of what Greg meant, Nick asked, “Does what get easier?”
“Trusting people. How do you go back to just ..being Nick after something like that?”
Stunned by the direct nature of the question, Nick didn’t answer right away. Greg sighed, resigned to the silence as his answer, and began to pull out of Nick’s makeshift embrace. If he let him go, Nick knew Greg would always think that he went too far. But Nick was the one who hadn’t gone far enough, so he held Greg tight, even as he struggled to get away. “Wait. Greg. I trust the team, I trust all the people I did before Gordon and his twisted sense of vengeance happened. And I trust you. Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t think I trust you?”
“Sure you do. But should you?”
“Of course, I do. But you don’t think I should?”
Greg stopped struggling, but his chin came up defiantly. He looked to Nick like a child preparing himself for his punishment. “I could do nothing. Nothing but think. Think about you. That’s what I was doing when you were .. there, trapped... when Grissom and Sara and Warrick were all working any angle they could to find you...to save you. Should I ask again why you would trust me, Nick? Huh?”
A quick flash of anger caused Nick to squeeze Greg a little tighter, the fingers of his left hand biting into Greg’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “I’m supposed to drop years of friendship and trust based on... on what? The fact that you were worried? Scared? Do you know what that tells me?”
Greg shook his head in a dismissive manner. “That I suck in a crisis?”
Unconcerned about the shrinking space between them now, Nick sought Greg’s eyes until their gazes locked. He felt like shaking him, if he were to be honest. “You’re beating yourself up over something you had no control over and you want me to join in too, is that it? Well, forget it.” Nick dropped his hands, lightly shoving Greg away. His anger dissolving into disappointment. “I can’t help you with that, Greg. “
Instead of backing away, Greg stepped forward, back into the space Nick had just pushed him from. “I don’t want your help.”
Nick was confused. Was Greg looking for a fight? “Then what the hell do you want from me, Greg? You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m not- No. This isn’t the time. I’m going back inside.”
Stunned for the second time that night, Nick stood on the front walk and watched as Greg marched away, shoulders tight, his gait stiff. Jesus. The brick that had hit him earlier didn’t quite get the job done. But it was just a brick and not a wall, at least.
Slowly, Nick followed Greg’s path inside the house. Greg was back to sifting through the desk, but he gave a quick glance in Nick’s direction upon hearing footsteps, but his flat expression didn’t change.
Nick returned to his former position as well, knees popping as he sank back down to floor level. Greg ignored this too, so Nick cleared his throat and plunged ahead. “I’ll make time, if you will.”
Greg’s eyes snapped up to connect with Nick’s, his expression changing little. Nodding, he pulled out a pair of gloves from his vest and pressed them into Nick’s hand. “Time is all I’ve got.”
Nick wanted to respond, but Greg had turned away again. The easy relaxed nature of their work was gone, but something new was there, a feeling that Nick had put away long ago. It felt like anticipation.
Author: michigangirl30
Fandom and Pairing: CSI:, Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Prompt: Touch, #15 Epiphany
Warnings: Set in Season 6, small spoilers for Grave Danger.
Notes: This was started a long while ago, I think as another idea for the 'smoke' or 'dirty' challenge.
Summary: Who's to blame for so much wasted time?
The shift had started out innocently enough. Productive even, with the call to investigate a possible arson coming at the exact moment he’d finished the tedious task of piecing together several shredded documents. And when he’d gotten paired with Greg on the case, his initial reaction was one of simple pleasure at having the opportunity to teach instead of being taught. Never mind that being in the field with Greg held a different sort of pleasure than, say, working with Warrick or Sara, but he pushed the errant thought away.
At the scene, the pair got right to work, that initial pleasant feeling soon became a relaxed rhythm, Greg proving to once again be an interested and quick study, following Nick’s lead, asking questions only rarely. A comfortable silence fell over them when the task no longer required conversation.
As they continued to work, crouching and sifting, the warmth of the room caused a light sweat to form on Nick’s skin. He looked up to make a comment about it to Greg, some inane joke about saunas and Vegas heat. It turned out, however, that Greg was feeling the affects of the heat already, as Nick could see from the high color in the younger CSI’s face. Head tipped downward, concentration knitted Greg’s brow as his hands sifted through ash and debris, the remains of what appeared to have been a desk.
Suddenly enthralled by the quiet intensity of Greg’s focus, Nick watched from his close position as a glistening bead of sweat started it’s slow descent downward toward one flushed cheek. When the trickle slipped past the apex of his cheekbone, Greg swiped unconsciously at it, leaving a smear of soot across most of his cheek. Without thinking, Nick reached out to brush at the mark, his gloved fingers barely touching the heated skin. Greg went completely still, but his searching eyes landed squarely on Nick’s own surprised face.
Nick coughed just then, a horrible choking sound. A tightness coupled with a harsh scratching sensation gripped his chest and lungs. His thighs already burning from the long moments of squatting over debris, the large muscles clenched in protest as the coughing would not subside. His balance lost, he felt himself about to teeter over onto his backside, but a strong hand gripped his arm hard and yanked him to his feet.
“Come on. Let’s get you outside.” Greg’s voice buzzed inside his head,
his watering eyes unable to make out more than a blur vaguely shaped like Greg, he allowed himself to be led from the house.
He wheezed out, “Sorry,” and coughed again as they emerged into the night air. Pulling off his gloves, he immediately rubbed at his stinging eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. Or talk. Just breathe, ok?” Greg sounded genuinely concerned and for the first time in many weeks, Nick didn’t find another’s concern irritating and disproportionate to the situation.
Nick nodded and blinked away more tears, doubly heartened by the gentle hand Greg laid on his back.
The coughing finally lessened and he leaned back into that hand to look up at the sky and the stars, too dim to be described as twinkling. A long moment passed, the contact between them familiar in it’s casualness, but the silence felt full, rather than empty. Greg broke away first to trot over to the Tahoe, strip off his gloves and return with two bottles of water. Twisting the cap off one, he handed it to Nick and asked, “Feeling better?”
Daring to look directly at Greg under the cover of the semi-darkness, Nick smiled into brown eyes that twinkled impossibly- in direct contrast to the lackluster stars. “Thanks to your quick thinkin’.”
Greg huffed air out his nose. “Yeah. I’m a real hero.”
The scoff wasn’t something Nick expected. “What? You don’t take 'thank you’s anymore?”
Greg looked away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, it’s -nothing.” He stopped to take a deep breath and took a moment before looking back at Nick, his smile losing it’s previous strength. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Nick was confused at this sudden change in attitude, but he tried what always seemed to work on Greg. Pointing, not touching this time, at the smear of soot on Greg’s face, he teased, “Well, if you weren’t so into your job, you could have stopped me from breathing in all that dust. Gonna have to start calling you ‘Sara’.”
Greg reached up, his chin dropping, and rubbed his face indifferently, missing the spot completely. “I guess there are worse things to be called.”
‘Hero.. glad you’re okay.. worse things...’ Sometimes it took a brick, sometimes it took a sigh, but it was never the same with one person to the next. The others had shown changes, of course, Grissom with his careful indifference and Sara’s self-assigned task of keeping an eye on him, while simultaneously pushing him to get beyond it.
And here was Greg, who hadn’t gotten that sort of consideration from him yet. From the first moment he’d seen Greg after being pulled from the ground until this moment, Greg hadn’t seemed all that different. Maybe a little quieter, more focused on learning his job, possibly a little more serious. Damn. Why did he have a harder time reading Greg? Had his feelings always been this hidden or was it just Nick’s own attractions clouding their communication?
Despite that attraction (or because of it, he couldn’t say at this point, it had been far too long), he still wanted to try and comfort his friend. It was just part of his nature to empathize, he couldn’t help but try to put himself in Greg’s shoes, helpless to do anything, desperate for that one clue that would solve the mystery before it was too late. Reaching out to anyone had been hard, Nick hadn’t wanted to burden anyone with the details- what little they hadn’t seen anyway- and he certainly didn’t want to make Greg feel any worse.
Between the two of them, the small touches seemed to speak louder than any words they could ever say. So with that thought in mind, he pushed aside all his trepidation about misinterpretation and encircled Greg’s errant hand with one of his own, pulling it away from the still sullied cheek. “Here.” With one firm stroke of his thumb, he wiped away the smudge, the warmth of the skin beneath registering more than it should. “I really am okay, Greg.”
Greg’s expression was still hard to read, but he didn’t pull away, as Nick expected him to. He studied Nick’s face, opened his mouth as if to respond, but silently closed it again. His eyes made another lap around Nick’s features, stopping at Nick’s chin before he finally did speak. “I didn’t mean to bring that up, you don’t need people reminding you of it.”
Nick squeezed the hand he still held, putting his free hand on Greg’s opposite shoulder, so that they now stood face to face, an arm’s length apart. “But you shouldn’t feel like you have to tiptoe around me either. If there’s something on your mind, I’ll try to clear up whatever it is.”
Greg continued to stare at the region of Nick’s chin, “Does it get easier?”
Unsure of what Greg meant, Nick asked, “Does what get easier?”
“Trusting people. How do you go back to just ..being Nick after something like that?”
Stunned by the direct nature of the question, Nick didn’t answer right away. Greg sighed, resigned to the silence as his answer, and began to pull out of Nick’s makeshift embrace. If he let him go, Nick knew Greg would always think that he went too far. But Nick was the one who hadn’t gone far enough, so he held Greg tight, even as he struggled to get away. “Wait. Greg. I trust the team, I trust all the people I did before Gordon and his twisted sense of vengeance happened. And I trust you. Is that what’s bothering you? You don’t think I trust you?”
“Sure you do. But should you?”
“Of course, I do. But you don’t think I should?”
Greg stopped struggling, but his chin came up defiantly. He looked to Nick like a child preparing himself for his punishment. “I could do nothing. Nothing but think. Think about you. That’s what I was doing when you were .. there, trapped... when Grissom and Sara and Warrick were all working any angle they could to find you...to save you. Should I ask again why you would trust me, Nick? Huh?”
A quick flash of anger caused Nick to squeeze Greg a little tighter, the fingers of his left hand biting into Greg’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “I’m supposed to drop years of friendship and trust based on... on what? The fact that you were worried? Scared? Do you know what that tells me?”
Greg shook his head in a dismissive manner. “That I suck in a crisis?”
Unconcerned about the shrinking space between them now, Nick sought Greg’s eyes until their gazes locked. He felt like shaking him, if he were to be honest. “You’re beating yourself up over something you had no control over and you want me to join in too, is that it? Well, forget it.” Nick dropped his hands, lightly shoving Greg away. His anger dissolving into disappointment. “I can’t help you with that, Greg. “
Instead of backing away, Greg stepped forward, back into the space Nick had just pushed him from. “I don’t want your help.”
Nick was confused. Was Greg looking for a fight? “Then what the hell do you want from me, Greg? You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m not- No. This isn’t the time. I’m going back inside.”
Stunned for the second time that night, Nick stood on the front walk and watched as Greg marched away, shoulders tight, his gait stiff. Jesus. The brick that had hit him earlier didn’t quite get the job done. But it was just a brick and not a wall, at least.
Slowly, Nick followed Greg’s path inside the house. Greg was back to sifting through the desk, but he gave a quick glance in Nick’s direction upon hearing footsteps, but his flat expression didn’t change.
Nick returned to his former position as well, knees popping as he sank back down to floor level. Greg ignored this too, so Nick cleared his throat and plunged ahead. “I’ll make time, if you will.”
Greg’s eyes snapped up to connect with Nick’s, his expression changing little. Nodding, he pulled out a pair of gloves from his vest and pressed them into Nick’s hand. “Time is all I’ve got.”
Nick wanted to respond, but Greg had turned away again. The easy relaxed nature of their work was gone, but something new was there, a feeling that Nick had put away long ago. It felt like anticipation.