Title: Five crushes and a date
Author: gothikmaus
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Pairing: Nick/Greg, plus mentions of unrequired Greg/Catherine, Greg/Sara, Greg/Warrick, Greg/Grissom, Greg/Morgan
Rating: G
Category: 5+1 Things, ficlet collection, humour
Summary: Five times Greg had an unrequited crush at work, plus one time it wasn't unrequited at all.
A/N: Six ficlets written roughly in chronological order. References to episodes 1x06 "Who are you", 2x1 "Organ Grinder" and 12x01 "73 Seconds".
CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and all related characters are property of CBS. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
Catherine
"Maybe I saw you perform."
"Oh, I doubt it."
"Why?"
"You would've remembered."
Greg couldn't stop all sorts of inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind after his conversation with Catherine. Of course he had noticed she was attractive, he would have to be blind not to, but now his treacherous brain had gone a step further and was supplying him with a number of images that would cost him his job had anyone been able to read his mind. He still remembered vividly what the dancers at the French Palace looked like, how they moved (that was something he would never forget) and the memories from his wild Friday nights were merging with images of present-day Catherine: golden hair, cherry red lips, and just enough glitter to make his heart race and his blood rush to certain parts of his anatomy that should really be left alone during working hours. He thought back of her comment, which had been delivered with a knowing twinkle in her eye, and had to put down the vial he was handling for fear of dropping it.
A quick trip to the restroom was definitely in order.
Sara
Sara was standing close. Too close. She was leaning towards him, her face just a few inches away from his, her hand pressed against his chest, and Greg couldn't hold her gaze. By the time he had regained some composure, she had already walked out of the room with the results of his internet search, a spring in her step that hadn't been there just a minute before.
He sighed. He had never been shy and wasn't usually that nervous with girls he liked: he had mastered the art of flirting and was sure he could charm his way out of hell, but he felt like an awkward teenager with a hopeless crush around Sara.
He stood up and walked back to his lab. Maybe he'll ask her out for breakfast later.
Warrick
Warrick marched through the corridor, huffing and puffing and grumbling, tie loosened and hanging crookedly around his neck, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. Greg almost jumped out of his skin as the CSI stomped into the locker room.
"Oh, hey, Warrick," he greeted him as he closed his locker.
"I hate court days," was the only reply he got.
Warrick slipped off his jacket and shirt, and Greg tried hard not to stare, but it was difficult to ignore the way his co-worker's muscles rippled under his smooth skin as he hung his clothes into his locker and rummaged through it in search of something. The man was ridiculously attractive, with those amazing green eyes, full lips, and a body that looked like it had been chiseled by Michelangelo. It was unfair, really.
"You need something, Greggo?"
Greg started. He could feel warmth spread all over his cheeks and was sure his ears were bright red.
"N-no," he stammered. "I was just... getting something from my locker," he added, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "Yeah. Gotta go back to the lab now, those DNA tests won't run themselves, you know. See you around."
Warrick frowned at him as Greg zoomed out of the room. He sat down on the bench and shook his head.
"Weird kiddo."
Grissom
Greg was in awe. Every time Grissom presented the details of a case, Greg just stood there, eyes wide open and lips slightly parted, trying to absorb as much information as he could. The more intricate the case, the more intrigued he was.
His admiration bordered on hero worship and, hadn't he known himself as well as he did, he could have sworn he had a crush on the man. Maybe he did. In a totally platonic, intellectual way.
He had always thought chemistry was what he wanted to do in life (and he was really quite good at it), but the more he worked with Grissom, the more his job in the lab seemed dull and irrelevant. Sure, his DNA analysis were often crucial in their investigations, but he felt like he could do so much more if he could just get his foot in the door and do some actual field work.
Greg tried to imagine what life as a CSI would be like: hunting for the tiniest pieces of evidence on crime scenes, finding that one fiber that everyone else had overlooked; recreating the exact dynamic of a murder based on blood spatter alone; enjoying the sight of suspects crumbling under the weight of the scientific data he had collected and analyzed as he presented his findings with meticulousness and precision.
Yes, he could definitely see himself do that. Grissom would be so proud. He smiled and took a sip of coffee. It was time to shake up his career.
Morgan
Greg couldn't wrap his head around it: he couldn't understand how someone like Morgan could have inherited 50% of her DNA from someone like Ecklie. As a scientist and DNA expert, he knew human reproduction involved millions of potential gene combinations, but every time he saw them together, he couldn't help thinking that what had happened to her was the genetic equivalent of hitting the jackpot.
She was beautiful, sure, that was the first thing he had noticed the very first time he had seen her at the lab, before even knowing who she was. She had been such a vision that, for a moment, he had thought he was dreaming. But she wasn't just a pretty face: she was smart, competent, and had a sharp sense of humor. She was also incredibly sweet and had a sort of hidden fragility that shone through only on a few occasions, a side of her he would love to get to know more intimately.
Nick had warned him off that first day, and that would have been the wise thing to do, but Greg had never been known for acting wisely.
Nick
Greg walked into the locker room and stopped dead in his tracks.
"You grew a beard."
Nick turned to him, an amused smile on his face.
"Great observational skills, Greg. Grissom was right when he promoted you to CSI."
Greg gave him an unimpressed smile.
"I never saw you with a beard before."
"Yeah, well, I wanted to try something different," Nick said, idly running his fingers over his bearded cheek.
"At least it doesn't look as hideous as that stupid mustache you grew a few years ago."
"Hey!"
"Own it, Nick: it was awful."
"I'll take no criticism from the guy who used to change hairstyle every other week."
"That's called experimenting."
"Oh, yeah? What about that time you messed up the dye job and ended up with that indefinable hair color? Or when you were going for an 'edgy side cut' and accidentally shaved off half your head?"
"Style is a trial and error process, just like science. The important thing is to learn from your mistakes," Greg replied, seemingly unbothered by Nick's remarks.
"Well, I prefer a more classic look," Nick commented.
Greg smiled and found he couldn't take his eyes off Nick's face. He wanted to run his fingers over his beard and know what it felt like. Would it be soft? Coarse? Would it tickle if he kissed him?
He almost started at that sudden thought. It had taken him years to get over his crush on Nick: he still remembered how he used to constantly hang around him, begging for attention like an overeager puppy, and he didn't want to go down the same route again. He looked up and met Nick's eyes. The Texan was smirking.
"You know, you could just admit you have a thing for my beard."
Greg frowned and spun around, reaching for his locker. He could feel his cheeks grow warmer by the second.
"I don't... I just... I think it suits you," he added, not sure if he was making things better or worse.
"Does it? Why don't you tell me all about it later over breakfast?" Nick asked after a few moments of silence.
He sounded very close, and Greg didn't dare turn around.
"Nicholas Stokes, are you asking me out on a date?"
"Yeah. I am."
Greg did turn around at that. Nick was standing only a couple of feet away, and he looked... nervous. Greg could feel his heart doing somersaults in his chest.
"Deal. But I get to choose the place," Greg said, feeling a smile pull at the corners of his mouth.
Nick smiled back, his pose immediately relaxing.
"Whatever you want, Greg. Whatever you want."
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February 2022