Title: Jacked!
Author: Dr FooFoo
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Review or e-mail (in profile)
Notes: You know Greg was wearing Nick's leather jacket in King Baby. You know it.
Almost before Nick gets his jacket off and hung up in the front hall, Greg's on him, pawing and kissing and tasting like pancakes. Which is strange, because Nick's never known Greg to actually make any food for himself in the morning. Night. Whatever. Nick murmurs a quiet greeting and earns one of Greg's half-crazy grins for it. He's sad because he knows Greg's just about to head out the door to go to work, but it's the little moments like this in between that Nick looks forward to these days. Ecklie, that bastard.
Greg's lips leave Nick's and he mumbles a protest, but Greg's gone, back into the kitchen to finish his breakfast. Nick follows him into the other room and Greg offers up some pancakes, but Nick gives him a mini-lecture on how bad they are for you, and how their unhealthiness is tripled by the amount of syrup Greg drenches them in. Greg just rolls his eyes and stuffs his mouth with soggy pancakes.
Nick indulges himself by showering Greg with another hail of little kisses before retreating into the bedroom for a well-deserved sleep, and Greg's left all alone in the kitchen. Finishing his pancakes quickly, he dumps his syrup-washed plate in the sink and heads out the door, grabbing his jacket and keys from the hook in the hall on the way. Twenty minutes later, he's at the crime scene.
Greg glances down at his watch when Catherine gives him the second weird look of the night. What's with her anyway? Greg isn't that late, and it's not like he's breaking protocol or anything. He's just taking pictures. So why is everyone looking at him weirdly? It's only when Sara shows up at the scene and confronts him with a knowing smirk that he understands.
"Hey Greg. Nice jacket..."
Greg looks down at his jacket and raises an eyebrow. Since when does he own a leather jac- Oh.