When The Cat's Away...
Title: When The Cat's Away...
Rating: If anything, definitely G (though, there is a curse in it)
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Disclaimer: Don't own them, and in need of a new computer, so don't bother suing. You'll get nothing more than a purring kitty.
Warnings: The product of the mind of a girl who spent a good chunk of her day with a two year old, namely: Complete and utter humor. ^^;
Author's Notes: One of my good friends' little boy recently turned two and today was his birthday party. There's this toy gun he has (he got it for Christmas, and it's the most distracting toy) and I had many fun hours playing with it. And being told to stop playing. And this became the result. XD And btw, this has nothing to do with the plot-bunny that I've been cooking. (Speaking of him, tell him to leave my Greg-bear alone. >>;)
Summary: What do you get if you cross: A.) Two child's toy guns that can make three different noises and light up, B.) A very bored DNA lab rat. C.) A very bored computer geek. D.) A very busy Texan CSI.?
Spoilers: None. (This takes place before Greg becomes a CSI.)
The problem was that although the various CSI on duty were deep in work, two of the technicians were bored out of their poor minds. Namely, Archie Johnson and Greg Sanders. And since Gil Grissom, being the supervisor, was out on a case with Catherine...
When the cat's away, the mice will play.
Greg crept along one of the blue-lit hallways, trying to not be seen through the glass windows as he stalked his prey, gun held close to his side. He paused at a corner, almost throwing his back against the wall, and slowly turned his head to look around the corner.
Status of prey: Spotted.
A few bursts of whirling red, yellow, and orange lights and the sounds of a gun similar to one of the blasters from Star Wars later, a new sound replaced the sudden break in the silence: that of sneakered feet racing away, back the way they'd come, and being followed by feet in loafers.
---
Nick was deeply absorbed in the paperwork and monitor in front of him when a noise broke the silence and his osmosis. Who the fuck was laughing? He glanced up in time to see Greg Sanders racing by, shooting over his shoulder at Archie Johnson, who was in pursuit. The guns both were using looked like... child toys?
What the fuck?
He watched, faintly annoyed, as the two rounded the far corner and disappeared from sight. After a moment, CSI-3 Nick Stokes merely rolled his eyes and went back to his work, wondering if he should actually grab his diskman out of his locker to keep the sounds of childish laughter from distracting.
About ten minutes later, after Nick had gone back to his assimilation of his work, the scene almost began to repeat itself: Greg racing at practically a breakneck speed, but he wasn't shooting over his shoulder this time; just looking wildly over it, as if expecting his pursuer to emerge at any moment. Nick just sat in his seat, knowing that he was busy and that Greg was probably distracting any of the other CSI that could have been in tonight from their own work, and watched Greg run around the corner. As soon as Greg had rounded the corner, Archie emerged from a different hallway than before, not running, but almost.. stalking? As if realizing he was being watched, the Asian computer geek glanced the Texan's way and saluted him with the toy gun.
Nick just shook his head, wondering if Grissom and Catherine were due back soon.
When Greg raced around the corner the third time, barely ten minutes later again, enough was enough. Nick couldn't work with the racing around, or the high-pitched gun sounds. He got up, crossed to the door and opened it.
"Would you knock that off? I'm trying to work here!"
Opening the door and speaking was a mistake, Nick realized as Greg took the open door as a safe haven, and raced in, ducking under Nick's arm. He leaned up against the older man's back, using him for a shield as Archie came racing by for the third time.
Archie stopped, catching sight of Greg behind Nick. "That's not fair, Greg, and you damn well know it!"
"HA!" Greg took a shot at Archie, still behind Nick, then nudged - or at the least, made an attempt to - Nick forward with.. was that his hip or his crotch?! "Move it, cowboy. Save the lab rat!"
Nick was tempted to tell Greg he was on his own, if only because he wasn't interested in getting humped while being used as a human shield. In a child's play gun battle. Any other time would have been perfectly fine, preferably if it was chest to chest, or whatever.
"What in the world is going on here?"
There was something about Gil Grissom's voice that always demanded attention: if he spoke, you did as he said, no questions asked, unless you were in the mood for a long, questioning look. For once, Nick was thankful for that authority.
Archie attempted to hide the gun in the back of his tan khakis. "N-nothing." He stammered. "We were not having a gun battle through the halls of the CSI lab."
One grey eyebrow went up. "We?" Grissom looked from Archie to Nick, and apparently decided that as Nick seemed weaponless, the 'we' Archie was speaking did not mean 'CSI Level 3 Nick Stokes' so followed the slender arm (which held a gun remarkably similar to the one that Archie was still trying to get into the back of his khakis) hanging over Nick's broad right shoulder back to the owner, who was peering out from behind Nick on the right side. "Greg, don't you have work to be doing?"
Greg snorted, waving the gun indolently. "I might."
"I'd suggest you get back to it. Preferably now." As soon as the dismissal was clear for what it was, with Grissom's parting for his office, Archie made a conscious attempt to walk, very casually, back to his computer lab, leaving Nick and Greg alone.
"I should go." Greg said, slipping his arm off Nick's shoulder. Nick grunted, becoming aware of something else entirely.
As Greg turned to go back to his lab as ordered, Nick grabbed his arm. Chocolate brown eyes flicked up toward him as Nick leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If you're going to hump me while using me for a human shield, you should finish what you start."
Greg said nothing, though there was a hint of agreement in those gorgeous bedroom eyes of his, merely waited until his arm left the strong grip and he was on his way back to his own lab before he started giggling.
The End
Rating: If anything, definitely G (though, there is a curse in it)
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Disclaimer: Don't own them, and in need of a new computer, so don't bother suing. You'll get nothing more than a purring kitty.
Warnings: The product of the mind of a girl who spent a good chunk of her day with a two year old, namely: Complete and utter humor. ^^;
Author's Notes: One of my good friends' little boy recently turned two and today was his birthday party. There's this toy gun he has (he got it for Christmas, and it's the most distracting toy) and I had many fun hours playing with it. And being told to stop playing. And this became the result. XD And btw, this has nothing to do with the plot-bunny that I've been cooking. (Speaking of him, tell him to leave my Greg-bear alone. >>;)
Summary: What do you get if you cross: A.) Two child's toy guns that can make three different noises and light up, B.) A very bored DNA lab rat. C.) A very bored computer geek. D.) A very busy Texan CSI.?
Spoilers: None. (This takes place before Greg becomes a CSI.)
The problem was that although the various CSI on duty were deep in work, two of the technicians were bored out of their poor minds. Namely, Archie Johnson and Greg Sanders. And since Gil Grissom, being the supervisor, was out on a case with Catherine...
When the cat's away, the mice will play.
Greg crept along one of the blue-lit hallways, trying to not be seen through the glass windows as he stalked his prey, gun held close to his side. He paused at a corner, almost throwing his back against the wall, and slowly turned his head to look around the corner.
Status of prey: Spotted.
A few bursts of whirling red, yellow, and orange lights and the sounds of a gun similar to one of the blasters from Star Wars later, a new sound replaced the sudden break in the silence: that of sneakered feet racing away, back the way they'd come, and being followed by feet in loafers.
---
Nick was deeply absorbed in the paperwork and monitor in front of him when a noise broke the silence and his osmosis. Who the fuck was laughing? He glanced up in time to see Greg Sanders racing by, shooting over his shoulder at Archie Johnson, who was in pursuit. The guns both were using looked like... child toys?
What the fuck?
He watched, faintly annoyed, as the two rounded the far corner and disappeared from sight. After a moment, CSI-3 Nick Stokes merely rolled his eyes and went back to his work, wondering if he should actually grab his diskman out of his locker to keep the sounds of childish laughter from distracting.
About ten minutes later, after Nick had gone back to his assimilation of his work, the scene almost began to repeat itself: Greg racing at practically a breakneck speed, but he wasn't shooting over his shoulder this time; just looking wildly over it, as if expecting his pursuer to emerge at any moment. Nick just sat in his seat, knowing that he was busy and that Greg was probably distracting any of the other CSI that could have been in tonight from their own work, and watched Greg run around the corner. As soon as Greg had rounded the corner, Archie emerged from a different hallway than before, not running, but almost.. stalking? As if realizing he was being watched, the Asian computer geek glanced the Texan's way and saluted him with the toy gun.
Nick just shook his head, wondering if Grissom and Catherine were due back soon.
When Greg raced around the corner the third time, barely ten minutes later again, enough was enough. Nick couldn't work with the racing around, or the high-pitched gun sounds. He got up, crossed to the door and opened it.
"Would you knock that off? I'm trying to work here!"
Opening the door and speaking was a mistake, Nick realized as Greg took the open door as a safe haven, and raced in, ducking under Nick's arm. He leaned up against the older man's back, using him for a shield as Archie came racing by for the third time.
Archie stopped, catching sight of Greg behind Nick. "That's not fair, Greg, and you damn well know it!"
"HA!" Greg took a shot at Archie, still behind Nick, then nudged - or at the least, made an attempt to - Nick forward with.. was that his hip or his crotch?! "Move it, cowboy. Save the lab rat!"
Nick was tempted to tell Greg he was on his own, if only because he wasn't interested in getting humped while being used as a human shield. In a child's play gun battle. Any other time would have been perfectly fine, preferably if it was chest to chest, or whatever.
"What in the world is going on here?"
There was something about Gil Grissom's voice that always demanded attention: if he spoke, you did as he said, no questions asked, unless you were in the mood for a long, questioning look. For once, Nick was thankful for that authority.
Archie attempted to hide the gun in the back of his tan khakis. "N-nothing." He stammered. "We were not having a gun battle through the halls of the CSI lab."
One grey eyebrow went up. "We?" Grissom looked from Archie to Nick, and apparently decided that as Nick seemed weaponless, the 'we' Archie was speaking did not mean 'CSI Level 3 Nick Stokes' so followed the slender arm (which held a gun remarkably similar to the one that Archie was still trying to get into the back of his khakis) hanging over Nick's broad right shoulder back to the owner, who was peering out from behind Nick on the right side. "Greg, don't you have work to be doing?"
Greg snorted, waving the gun indolently. "I might."
"I'd suggest you get back to it. Preferably now." As soon as the dismissal was clear for what it was, with Grissom's parting for his office, Archie made a conscious attempt to walk, very casually, back to his computer lab, leaving Nick and Greg alone.
"I should go." Greg said, slipping his arm off Nick's shoulder. Nick grunted, becoming aware of something else entirely.
As Greg turned to go back to his lab as ordered, Nick grabbed his arm. Chocolate brown eyes flicked up toward him as Nick leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If you're going to hump me while using me for a human shield, you should finish what you start."
Greg said nothing, though there was a hint of agreement in those gorgeous bedroom eyes of his, merely waited until his arm left the strong grip and he was on his way back to his own lab before he started giggling.
The End