A LITTLE SOMETHING AROUND THE MIDDLE
The last chapter (sigh)
Spoilers:
Big Middle, of course.
Let the Seller Beware: In this chapter, Grissom mentions Greg's mother's maiden name.
Precious Metals: In that episode, Grissom says that Greg is into liquid latex, supermodels, scuba diving, etc. It seems that Gil knows a little too much about Greg, huh? ; )
Cats in the cradle: In one scene Greg says that he 'absorbs' information and Grissom points out that Greg is stealing his catch-phrase.
Viva Las Vegas: In this episode, Greg almost botches an investigation by using the bathroom at a crime scene.
It was about five in the afternoon when we left the restaurant.
"The food was good." He said as we walked towards his car. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." I said formally.
That was perhaps the longest conversation we'd had in the last hour.
We hadn't had any chance to talk, back at the restaurant. A large group had arrived shortly after us to hold a noisy birthday party, making it virtually impossible to hold a private conversation.
I suspect that deep down we were relieved, both of us. At least, I was.
But the reprieve was over; there was no one else in the parking lot and the only sounds came from our footsteps on the gravel.
Grissom walked towards the driver's side of the car and I walked towards the passenger's. He opened his door and I opened mine, but neither of us got in.
Something made us look up at the same time.
He cleared his throat.
"We need to talk." he said. It was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah."
He nodded solemnly and got in. After a moment, I got in too.
Grissom put the key in the ignition, but he didn't start the engine. Instead, he withdrew his hand and put it on the steering wheel. After a moment, he put his other hand there too, and I had the impression that he has grabbing the wheel like it was a lifesaver.
The poor guy was nervous –understandably so. After all, he was going to say it, right?
But when he finally said something, it wasn't what I expected to hear.
"Do you know what Nick's mother's maiden name is?" he asked, without looking in my direction.
I frowned and thought, 'Is this guy weird or what?'
"What does that have to do with-"
"Do you know?" He insisted.
"No."
"Me, neither." He admitted.
"Ok," I said slowly, not sure of what this was all about.
"I don't know anything about Nick's pastimes either," he said, "Or Warrick's, or Archie's-"
"Yeah, so?"
"I know your mom's maiden name, Greg." he said softly, "I know what your interests are."
That was true. He seemed to know things about me, even things I didn't remember telling him.
"I never set out to learn these things." He said, "But somehow I did." He looked at me, "All these years, I've been absorbing every little piece of information that had to do with you."
Oh-
"Right from the beginning." He added pointedly.
Oh.
"From the beginning?" I repeated slowly.
"Yeah." He said quietly.
It took me a while to process this.
"So," I said cautiously, "You've always been interested…?"
He looked at me in the eye.
"Yes."
Oh, wow. I was inmensely flattered by this, until I realized something.
"But you've always acted as if I exasperated you," I said incredulously, "You always complain whenever I take too long to explain something, and-"
"Well, yeah," he said as if it was understandable, "I don't always have time to listen to every little aside of yours, Greg."
I shook my head in wonder.
"So... All this time-"
"Uh, huh." He nodded.
"Wow," I exhaled. Then I frowned again, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Do you really need to ask?" He asked gently.
I looked at him for a moment, and realized that no, I didn't need to ask. This was a guy who kept his private life to himself at all costs; there was no way he would have ever come out to his youngest CSI and admit he was in love.
"But you're telling me, now." I said. "Something made you change your mind-" I said and he nodded, "Was it the case?" I asked.
"Partly." He admitted, "That night, when I said I wanted someone who didn't judge me-" he hesitated, "Well, I realized you're one of the least judgmental people I know."
I wasn't sure if that assessment of me was correct but before I said so, he continued.
"Then the next day you said that you wanted someone who- hum, you know-"
"Someone who had a little something…?" I smiled.
"Yeah," he nodded, self-consciously. "Those words made me wonder about the possibilities." he admitted.
"But you didn't say anything." I pointed out. "I gave you an opening line and all you did was-" I tried to find the right words.
"Act oddly?" He offered.
"Well, I wouldn't say oddly-" I said generously. "But you didn't say 'yes' either."
He smiled faintly. He shoved his hand into a pocket and got something from it.
"Does this count as a yes?" he said, "Catch," he added, tossing something at me.
I caught it and looked at it. It was a silver key ring in the shape of a tennis racket with a tennis ball attached to it. "I bought it a week ago." He confessed, "I would have given it to you the next day, but-"
"But?"
"First I needed to know if you really meant what you said-" he said slowly. "And if you knew what you were getting into."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…" he paused, "There were many things you didn't know about me, Greg. For instance, you didn't know that I mixed insects with my food-"
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"So that's why you've been bringing peanut-butter-and-cricket sandwiches to the break room." I said slowly, "Not to mention the chocolate-covered ants you've been snacking on during meetings."
He nodded. I couldn't believe he'd done that. Poor Sophia had almost thrown up the first time she saw the chocolate-covered mess on the conference table.
It had all been a test and I wasn't too happy about it.
"Well?" I said morosely, "Did I react the way you were hoping for?"
"Yes." He said.
"Good." I said sarcastically. "I'm glad to hear it. Is there any other test you put me through without me knowing?"
"Well…" he looked at me, "I took 27th street knowing full well that it was the wrong turn."
"You did it on purpose?" I asked incredulously, "You knew that we would get in a traffic jam?"
"No," he said patiently, "I didn't know we'd get in a -"
"Damn it, Grissom!" I exploded, "I couldn't even go out and pee! I had to hold it for hours!"
"You didn't say you wanted to go out and pee!" he retorted.
"Yeah, well-" I mumbled, "I tend not to mention these things now. People still joke about the day I failed my proficiency test." I looked at him, "Why did you take 27th?"
"I thought it would give us a chance to spend a couple of hours together."
"What for?" I retorted, "You barely talked that day! You didn't even mention the fact that I'd practically made a pass at you a couple of days before!"
"Greg, at the time I just wanted to find out if we could spend time together outside the lab." He explained, "I'd been taking you along on my investigations, but it wasn't enough."
I was getting more and more pissed off with every new revelation.
"So, you wanted to know if you could take being with me for more than a few hours a day."
"No," he said, "I wanted you to find out whether you could take being around me." He paused.
"Look." he continued, "All I wanted was to make you realize that I'm not the most exciting person to be with; I'm not the all-knowing investigator some people think I am, Greg; I make mistakes like everybody else."
"Well-"
"I also eat bugs, listen to boring music, watch old movies, and sometimes I go to the Body Farm to relax. Does that sound fun to you?" He challenged, "And that's not all," he added, "I'm also single-minded and selfish, and I can be infuriating -"
I snorted.
"Yes, you've got that right," I said firmly. But I was no angel, either. "But what about me, Grissom?" I asked, "I mean, I acted like a jerk after you took 27th street, and then I complained on and on about the broken radio and your CDs-" I looked at him, "If I had known you'd done it on purpose, I would have shut my mouth and listened quietly-"
"No, don't do that." He said firmly, "I don't want you to start listening to the classics just because I like them. You have your own identity and I lo-" He stopped in mid-sentece. "And I like it." He amended.
"That's just because you have a crush on me." I said cheekily. (Hey, he was not going to say it so I thought I might as well do it myself).
And now that I'd finally said it, I thought it was time to do something, too. I was wondering where to start - 'Should I put my left hand on the back of his neck? Or my right hand on his thigh?'- when he spoke again.
"The truth is, I'm a dull guy, Greg."
"Dull guy?" I repeated, "Grissom, you're not dull. You're smart, you're knowledgeable and fun to be with," I said. "And mostly," I paused, "You don't put me down for knowing things."
"Put you down? I'd never do that." He frowned.
"Well, good. There are people who don't like to hang around smart asses, Grissom. You, on the other hand, don't seem to mind when I show off... Unless you're in a hurry." I added with a glare.
"I love it when you show off." He said, "I like learning things from you."
He uttered those words with such conviction that a sudden realization hit me: It wasn't just a crush on either side. There were feelings there, too. Deep feelings.
I mean, Gil Grissom had just admitted he liked learning things from me, and for me, that was worth more than any casual declaration of love.
It hit me hard, and I knew that if I opened my mouth I was going to blurt out all kinds of romantic nonsense.
I took a deep breath and got myself under control.
"So," I said casually, "You were testing me all along, huh. Even today, when you let me see you naked -"
"Yes." He said quietly. "The truth is, I don't have a 'little' something, Greg. I'm, hum, well, bigger-"
"But I liked what I saw." I said. "I was impressed, actually."
He chuckled.
"Well. Thanks." He said. He looked outside for a moment and then he said somewhat reluctantly, "I've come to terms with the way I look, Greg. I used to be lean," he added, "At the time I smoked like a chimney, and when I stopped smoking I just-" he shrugged.
"Well, that's ok." I said, "I'm glad you don't smoke anymore."
He smiled at that.
"I didn't really think you'd judge my body, Greg." he said quietly, "I was more concerned about your reaction to the other aspects of my life."
"Well, to tell you the truth I was concerned too." I admitted,"I'm not perfect. I have all sort of flaws –I mean, I can be a jerk as you know; and if you had looked at me when we were in the shower-"
"Actually, I did." he said, looking guilty, "The metallic surfaces in the shower let me get an eyeful of you-"
"Oh." I muttered.
"-and I liked what I saw." He finished.
"Oh. Good."
I sure needed the reassurance. I've been told I'm not bad to look at, but it doesn't matter; deep inside me still lurks the insecure kid I once was. A pimply, scrawny kid who didn't lose his virginity until-
"Besides," Grissom said, interrupting my poor-little-me musings, "Nothing can change the way I feel about you." He said, and to my utter surprise, he reached out and put his hand on my head. "I love this."
"My hair?" I frowned.
"No, you idiot," he glared, "Your brain."
"Oh. Well, I'm confused, Gil." I said, "You say you love my brain but at the same time you're calling me an idiot, so-"
He chuckled and caressed my head. His touch was tentative at first, but he gradually grew more confident. I closed my eyes, enjoying it.
"So, Grissom-" I said, glancing at him after a moment, "Have you ever been in a relationship?"
He shook his head.
"Not really."
"So this will be your first time." I taunted.
He smiled good-naturedly and nodded.
"This is much more than a crush, isn't it, Gil?" I said after a moment.
His hand stopped moving.
I don't know what surprised him more –the words or the fact that I used his first name. He let his hand drop and then he muttered a 'yes'.
He didn't say more but he didn't need to. There was a look on his face that made it obvious that if he opened his mouth again he was going to blurt out all sort of romantic nonsense. He lowered his gaze to get himself under control. When he spoke again, it was with studious detachment.
"Actually," He said, "I just realized that I have about five good years left in me, and I should probably do something before they are gone."
I gaped. Those words had a sting in them, but the tone of his voice and the twinkle in his eyes made me realize he was only teasing.
"Five years?" I taunted, "Do you envision five years with me?"
He paused. "Too many?"
"No." I said quietly.
"I just hope you won't get bored." He said ruefully.
"I won't. You're full of surprises, Gil," I said, "I mean, come on! What you did yesterday was amazing. You saved a dozen lives, and you didn't even need a gun."
"Oh. Oh, well," he said with an aw-shucks expression on his face, "It was nothing."
"Nothing? That guy managed to break free from the cops! He was armed and dangerous, yet you got him to drop the gun! You single-handedly accomplished what half-a-dozen cops could not-"
He'd been really awesome.
(Flashb-
Uh, I was going to have a little flashback, but I suddenly noticed that the look was back on Gil's face- the sweet, slightly foolish look that meant he was in love.
I knew that look; there was a similar one on my face now.
Neither of us wanted to talk –understandably so- but maybe we didn't need more words.
I leant forward, just in case he wanted to kiss me.
Ok, I thought, bring it on.
But he still didn't move.
Ok. It was time to do something.
"You know, Grissom." I said, "All those tests that you put us through… they were redundant."
"They were?"
"Yeah. We're so besotted with each other, that nothing we say is going to change that. On the other hand, if either of us turns out to be a bad kisser-"
"I wouldn't mind." He said quickly.
"Ha, speak for yourself." I retorted, "I'm withholding my judgment on that."
He looked hurt, but only for a second. He looked closely at me and realized that I was only teasing.
"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes, "Let's put it to the test, then."
"All right!" I exclaimed, opening my arms, "Come to daddy."
He snorted, but willingly slipped into my arms.
He felt good in my arms -there were no sharp angles on him, no pointy cheekbones or elbows poking at me. It was better than I thought.
"You stink." I muttered into his ear.
"So do you." He retorted.
He tentatively put his arms around me.
Oh, yeah, I thought. Bring it on, baby. And while you're at it, let me get a hold of you-
"Hoof," He grunted when I slid my hands down his body and squeezed. His cheek rounded up in a smile. "You're possessive, aren't you?" He whispered.
My response was to happily rub my nose against his furry cheek.
"And you have a facial hair fetish." He finished.
"Yep, I do." I said aloud, "Think you can handle that?"
"Sure. Think you can handle a bad kiss from me?"
And then-
Finally.
Putrescine or not, it didn't matter. We really got into it.
So, here we are, groping each other and enjoying this great kiss…
And all of a sudden it occurs to me that he's a better kisser than I expected. How come?
With a supreme effort, I pull back.
"Hey, Gil? Who taught you to kiss like that?"
He blinks.
"What, no good?" He frowns.
"Actually, it's too good!" I glare.
"And that's a problem?" he asks, a bit peevishly.
"Yeah, it is if you've been practicing with someone-"
"Oh, relax." he says, "I just did a thorough research on the subject."
"Research?"
"Yeah. Those sites I visited while researching Norway were very informative," he says enigmatically. "And that's all I'm going to say," he adds, leaning forward for another kiss.
Oh. Ok.
There's nothing more to say -although later I'm going to give him a little talk about risking his life just to impress me. Let the cops handle the psychos next time.
As for the kisses and the groping and the romantic nonsense that we will surely blurt out later... I'm sure some day I'll have a flashback and tell all about it.
But for now, I'm just too busy.
THE END
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