SO, this is my first songfic. You know, when I came on here, I swore I'd never write one, but here it is. I honestly love this song so freaking much and I like the way this turned out. Also, it's almost Christmas so I made this a Christmas time type thing. Also, the last episode.

And, if anyone cares even a little, I was voted most likely to write a bestseller for my school's senior superlatives. It's pretty much my only high school accomplishment.

Anyway, here it is, and remember that reviews are love!

From the desk of a twelfth grade nothing.

I got a funny feeling

The moment that your lips touched mine.

Something shot right through me;

My heart skipped a beat in time.

There was a reason Greg Sanders didn't go to parties. Actually, there were multiple reasons. One of them was that the only dancing he did was slow dancing; he only ever danced other ways when he was blackout drunk. He also didn't go to parties because he didn't have time, but that was an issue with everything outside of work.

To make matters worse, it was a Christmas party.

He had planned to spend Christmas evening on his nice comfy couch, covered in a big soft blanket, and curled up with a book he had bought a while ago, but hadn't had a chance to read yet. If his mother would call and ask him to come out to visit her, well then he wouldn't have said no to her.

As it happened however, Nick couldn't make it down to Dallas and his parents couldn't make it up to Vegas, so he was throwing a party. The whole team was going – and Greg did love his adoptive older brother – so he had agreed to go as well. They had all agreed on not getting gifts; instead, they would all bring a dish to the party.

Greg sighed and shifted, turning onto his side. He tried to push all of his misgivings and uncomfortable thoughts aside so that he could actually get some sleep before work that night. He realized that he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon now that his brain was on overdrive thinking about everything from the party to past Christmases in Norway, so he gave up and went to start the coffee.

Damn insomnia.

There's a different feel about you tonight.

It's got me thinking' lots of crazy things.

I even think I saw a flash of light,

It felt like electricity.

It actually wasn't that bad.

They talked a lot, telling family stories as well as work stories. Nick and Sara told a lot of stories about the mischief and occasional trouble Greg would get himself into. Doc also got into the action by telling them some of Greg's more terrible jokes. He laughed as he thought about all the trouble he caused and all the good memories that came from said trouble. His jokes and pranks had lightened the lab and had endeared him to all of its employees. Even Grissom had enjoyed listening to Greg joking around; it had given him hope because, although Greg wasn't directly involved in working scenes, he was still exposed to the worse sides of humanity. Hearing him laughing and joking and making other people laugh after seeing the things that one expected to see on this type of job, that was a wonderful thing. When Greg had expressed his desire to move into the field, Gris had worried that Greg would stop joking and laughing and, for a time, he had certainly slowed down. Then he had bounced into work one night with his hair freshly highlighted, told couple jokes and grinned as Grissom caught him opening a new bag of Blue Hawaiian, effectively erasing Grissom's fears.

Nick had a radio playing a station that didn't seem to care what was being played as long as it was non-stop music. Morgan had been listening to all of the stories about Greg and a few surprised her. She couldn't see the professional, accomplished man in front of her wearing a rubber glove on his head, blasting heavy metal, and drumming along with test tubes. She could, however, see him sticking markers up his nose to make a point. She went into the kitchen to get another drink and was about to walk out again after when he walked in.

"Marilyn Manson? Really?" she asked sarcastically.

"Hey!" he laughed. "Just because I like Sinatra doesn't mean I can't like other music too." She set her cup down and walked over to him.

"Of course not," she crooned. He laughed and set his own cup down. Something taped to the ceiling caught her eye.

"Uh-oh," she said.

"What?" Greg frowned with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Look up," she grimaced. Greg looked up at the mistletoe hanging there.

"Oh."

"Yeah, you know the rules," she said. He looked down at her. She took a step closer to him.

"Damn those rules," he whispered, closing the space between them. He pushed his lips against hers and wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his hands resting on her lower back. The kiss lasted and eternity, but, at the same time, only a second. When they pulled apart, she was on her toes with her hands on his shoulders. She looked into those deep hazel eyes as he expressed every emotion and thought in his gaze and only one word.

"Wow."

"I should go," she said. "People are gonna notice that I've been in her quite a while."

"Yeah, um…oh! Sorry," he said disentangling his arms from her waist and shoving his hands in his pockets. She smiled and kept her hand on his shoulder for a brief second before disappearing through the doorway. He stood there trying to get a grip on himself and trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He sent a quick text to Nick, apologizing, saying that he wasn't feeling good. He slipped out the other door and left the house unnoticed.

You shouldn't kiss me like this,

Unless you mean it like that,

Cause I'll just close my eyes,

And I won't know where I'm at.

We'll get lost on this dance floor spinning around,

And around ,

And around,

And around.

They're all watching us now,

They think we're fallin' in love.

They'd never believe we're just friends.

When you kiss me like this,

I think you mean it like that,

If you do, baby, kiss me again.

Greg sighed. He leaned his head back against the arm of his couch and closed his eyes. He was trying to pay attention to the movie (some cheesy Hallmark one that had seemed like a good distraction) But it wasn't working. He kept thinking about Morgan, about that kiss. He took a sip of his beer felt the bitter liquid slide down his throat. He told himself that he'd stop once he started to feel the buzz and it was around the tenth beer that he had cursed his tolerance level. After the eleventh, he swore he would move on to wine soon to hurry it up. At the twelfth he said to hell with wine and decided to get out the whiskey. Now he was on thirteen and wondering just when that buzz and the numb feeling would kick in. His thoughts somehow drifted to how pathetic he was. Christmas night, and here he was watching a sappy movie, drinking, and wondering if Morgan's kiss was because of the mistletoe or because she actually liked him. He was still thinking about this when he heard a knock at the door. He groaned and stood up, grabbing onto the back of his couch to steady himself as he waited for the dizziness to pass. He staggered to the door and opened it.

It was Morgan.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Never better," he said, slurring his words slightly.

"Uh huh," she said suspiciously, "right. So then, why did you bolt from the party like that?"

"Uh, headache." He shrugged.

"Can I come in?" she asked. "It's kinda cold out here."

"Sure, why not." He stepped aside so that she could come in.

"I didn't know beer helped headaches," she said innocently.

"Oh, yeah, old Californian remedy."

"I've never heard that one," she said.

"Then it's probably Irish."

"I didn't know you were Irish." She lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm not," he grinned, sipping his beer, "but I'm willing to try anything." He gave her a wicked grin, but all she could see was the dull pain in his usually bright eyes.

"You're not okay," she stated.

"Nope, not even a little bit," he agreed, finishing his beer. "But it's not the worst I've been." He went to the fridge to get another beer. As he turned around with beer number fourteen in hand, he found her looking at him pointedly.

"Don't Look at me like that," he sighed. "It's only my fourteenth."

"What?" she asked, appalled. "Only your fourteenth?"

"Yeah, takes about that many to get a buzz." He shrugged. "High tolerance level; it's a gift and a curse." She pulled the beer out of his hand and dumped it down the sink.

"Oh come on."

"No, Greg, let's go," she said.

"Go where?" he asked, pouting slightly like a stubborn child. She didn't answer; instead, she just dragged him down the hall to his bedroom. She shoved him onto the bed.

"Go to sleep," she ordered. He ignored her and tried to get up. After refuting three of his attempts to get up, Morgan ended up on top of him; she was holding his arms above his head, had one knee pressing into his hip, and the other knee was pressing into the bed beside him. He grinned up at her.

"You do realize how this looks, right?" he smirked.

"Well maybe if you would behave and stop acting like an insubordinate child…"

"Why did you even come?" he asked suddenly.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," she answered.

"You know, everyone has a tell when they lie," he said softly. "Your left eye twitches a little bit."

"Greg –"

"Just tell me the truth." He sighed. "I'm tired of being lied to." He looked up at her with sad hazel eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean all my life people have lied to me to protect me when I don't need to be protected. They tell me not to worry about something or it's not my concern or it's not my responsibility. I just want people to stop treating me like a five year old who can't handle knowing the truth," he blurted. "I'm sick and tired of it."

"I came for this, Greg," she said softly, pressing her lips against his. She let go of his arms and felt his entire body relax. She pulled back and sat down on the bed beside him. He looked stunned. She pulled the blanket over him.

"I'll be here when you wake up," she said, kissing his cheek. She figured it was probably a mixture of shock and alcohol when he only gave a little murmur to show that he had heard her before closing his eyes. His breathing deepened and evened out. She had just gotten up to turn off the TV in his living room when he called out to her.

"Morgan?"

"Yes?" she answered softly.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered. He closed his eyes again and laid his head back on the pillow.

"Merry Christmas, Greg," she said, smiling softly.

Everybody swears we make the perfect pair,

But dancin' is as far as it goes.

Girl you've never moved me

Quite the way you move me tonight.

I just wanted you to know.

I just wanted you to know.

You shouldn't kiss me like this,

Unless you mean it like that,

Cause I'll just close my eyes,

And I won't know where I'm at.

We'll get lost on this dance floor spinning around,

And around ,

And around,

And around.

They're all watching us now,

They think we're fallin' in love.

They'd never believe we're just friends.

When you kiss me like this,

I think you mean it like that,

If you do, baby, kiss me again.

Kiss me again.

FIN

So, tell me what you think (be it good or bad) and where I need to improve. I'm pretty happy with how this turned out, and I adore the song so y'all should check it out.

Also, I'm from a town that's rampant with rednecks, so I'm allowed to say y'all.

Enjoy the holidays! Now that winter break has started, I should be able to get more work done. I'm also posting another one-shot tomorrow (HOPEFULLY) so keep yo eyes open.

See you later!

3/20/2014 - I fixed all the mistakes I could find because I'm an OCD little bitch.