Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!

Nick and Warrick both looked up from laying out their evidence photos when Greg hurtled in to the room. He had just opened his mouth to say something when he tripped over his own shoelaces and crashed headlong in to Nick. As Warrick laughed uproariously the Texan just chuckled and caught his younger friend deftly. He set Greg back on his own two unreliable feet and raised an amused eyebrow.

"Eh heh…" Greg gave a small embarrassed laugh. "Uh Nick we're buddies right? Pals you might say!" He whipped out his most charming and innocent smile, clasping his hands together. Nick narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"What do you want Greggo?" he asked bluntly. That face never boded well for him, he knew from much experience. Greg dropped the façade and his expression twisted in to annoyance at himself and a little bit of exasperation.

"I forgot my key! I need yours!" He declared. Nick burst out laughing at how plaintive he sounded, reaching in to his pocket for his key ring. He searched through them until he came to the right one and began fighting with it as he berated his friend for his forgetfulness. Finally the little metal object came free and he handed it over. Greg took it gratefully, flashed him a brilliant smile, and ran out quickly. Nick went back to his work, whistling a tune to himself, until he felt a small prickle on the back of his neck.

He looked up to find Warrick staring at him with an unreadable expression. His hand was hanging in midair, a photo of a blood spatter dangling from his fingers where he had paused in the act of placing it somewhere. Nick tilted his head and shifted under the man's inscrutable gaze, a little uncomfortable.

"What?" he demanded. Warrick blinked and slowly placed the picture he was holding in its correct spot, a slow mischievous smile growing on his face. He grinned up at Nick and gave him a tiny little wink.

"Can I ask why you have a key to Sanders' place?" he snickered dirtily and Nick blinked.

"Well…maybe because I live with him?" he replied, cool as a cucumber. When Warrick's laughter dropped away and was replaced by total shock Nick shook his head in wonder. "I thought you guys all knew!" He claimed. The taller man spluttered about and threw his hands in the air as if that were a ridiculous statement. Which Nick knew it wasn't. He really had thought the rest of the team had known. Apparently he was wrong.

"No! Of course we didn't know! What the hell, since when?" Warrick looked incredulous and a trifle angry. He probably thought Nick was trying to hide something about it from him, though the Texan couldn't for the life of him figure out what he would have to be hiding. He gave a nonchalant shrug, since this was all very old news to him, and continued placing photos in their pattern on the lit up table.

"Since just after the whole Crane thing," he admitted. "I didn't want to be alone, and the tenants in his apartment had some sort of problem with him. He was getting harassed about something or other. So we found a place together. Are you serious, you guys didn't know?" He looked up curiously to see Warrick rolling his eyes and that was all the answer he needed to that question. It struck him as very funny that Greg and him could live together for seven years and have no one figure it out. He resisted doing any teasing though, since that wouldn't help anything. He watched Warrick for any signs of anger and was surprised to see his face take on a sly cast and he got another wink.

"So…you and Sanders huh?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Nick titled his head, not sure exactly what the context of that question was. He frowned and nodded slowly, then it hit him and his violently shook his head and stared at his friend like he'd grown another head. How could he possibly think that? How dare he even suggest it!

"Oh my god, NO!" Nick half-shouted. "Jesus, where do you get off? We're just roommates you sick bastard. You can finish the rest of this on your own." He glared one last time and stormed out of the room, ignoring Warrick's apology. He fled down to the lockers and opened his, pausing for a moment. On the inside of the door he had taped up a picture of his parents, as well as a group shot of the night shift, but right on top there was a snapshot of him and Greg, their arms thrown about each other's shoulders and holding up their brand new keys. It was taken by a new neighbor on the day they'd gotten their apartment. They both grinned at the camera, but held each other tight. He grudgingly admitted that it was easy to see where Warrick had gotten his inappropriate idea, but still. The fact that he would suggest it made him very angry for some reason.

When he'd gathered his things he stomped out to the garage and sped away in his truck, forcing himself to follow the speed limits. Sometimes responsibility had its downsides. When he arrived at the apartment complex he and Greg lived in he couldn't resist slamming his truck door shut, and he almost forgot to wave to their neighbor when she called out to him, as she did every day. They lived on the ground floor, which was good for coming home drunk, but they'd chosen it because it gave the illusion of coming home to an actual house. Only they weren't allowed upstairs.

Nick had his keys out and was looking through them before he realized that he'd given his to Greg, and the door would be unlocked for him. So he just let himself in and threw the door closed behind him with a little more force than necessary, allowing a frustrated "God!" to escape his lips. Greg looked up from the Xbox 360 game he was playing and gave his trademark smirk.

"I'm right here," he declared. Nick paused and suddenly grinned, his bad mood already dissipating. One thing he loved about living with Greg was that no matter how bad he felt at work, as soon as he got home his buddy was there to cheer him up. Some people who lived with friends grew to hate each other, but the two of them had only grown closer. Nick couldn't say he was surprised. Greg could charm the birds from the trees. Feeling a lot better, he dropped his kit beside the one already on the floor and tore off his shirt, tossing it across the back of the couch and heading for the kitchen.

He heard Greg shouting through the rooms to ask what was wrong, but told him to wait until he was holding food. The fridge was a mixture of crazy Californian diet and sensible Texan food. Chocolate and sugar warred for space with vegetables and fruit. All in all, it actually improved them both, giving them a previously unachieved balance between good and bad. That is, once Greg had persuaded Nick that he wouldn't get fat off the occasional treat, and after Nick had convinced Greg that he wouldn't die from eating a carrot.

Eventually he found a jar of pickles that looked inviting, so he brought it with him to the living room, dropping down beside his roommate and observing the other people in the game dropping like flies before Sanders' Superior Skill, as it was often called. It was usually called that when Nick lost in one of their video game marathons. He munched on a pickle.

"So? What's got you all riled up? You were fine when I left." Greg didn't look away from the TV screen as he spoke, but narrowed his eyes, intent on someone he was scoping out. He cried out triumphantly as they fell dead from his barrage of bullets, completely unaware of who had killed them. "In your face!" he yelled out. Nick grinned but frowned suddenly when Warrick's words came back to him.

"Did you realize that none of the guys at work knew we lived together?" he asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Greg actually look away from the screen and cast him a brief, slightly guilty glance. It caught his attention and he wondered about it until Greg replied.

"Oh, um, yeah well I didn't think you'd want them to know so…I never told anyone…" he went a little more still than usual, still shooting at people. Nick blinked and turned to give the blonde his full attention. He opened his mouth to ask but thought the better of it. That wasn't the issue that was in his mind at the moment. So he shook his head and almost growled out loud as his earlier irritation returned.

"Warrick actually had the gall to think this was some kind of…shack up…that we were…you know…involved!" Nick waved his jar of pickles as he gesticulated, sloshing the juice on to his jeans. That made him stop and look at it absently. Oh well, he decided. They needed to be washed anyway. He saw Greg send him a very calm, sidelong glance.

"Did he now?" was all he said, returning to the television. He didn't seem angry or disgusted. Actually, he didn't even seem interested in the conversation anymore, which was odd. Greg was a talker, sometimes even in his sleep. Nick stared at him, wondering why he didn't have anything to say about this. Knowing him, the lady-killer, Nick had expected him to be indignant and start in to some story about some wild date. Actually, the Texan had been looking forward to the distraction. Instead he seemed to be absorbed by his game, or was pretending to be.

Unsure of how to take this newfound disinterest, Nick got up and replaced his jar of pickles in the fridge and started looking around for something to make for their dinner. Even if it was technically breakfast time for most people, he just felt like cooking according to his internal clock. A smile graced his features when he found a pair of steaks in the freezer. Not too long after he was calling Greg in to come get his food. As soon as Nick had the words out of his mouth Greg was bounding in with a large grin. Seemingly without thinking about it he cast an arm about Nick's waist as he grabbed his plate, muttering something that sounded like 'you're too good to me'. And then he was gone again.

Nick stood in the middle of the kitchen, his own plate forgotten in his hands. Any other day that wouldn't seem abnormal to him at all. They'd grown so close in the last seven years of living together that it was normal to show a little affection. But now that he thought about it, they acted exactly like Warrick was thinking. Without any sexual intentions that is. After a while of thinking about it, he decided it didn't really bother him if they acted like that because it was platonic both ways. He was straight, and there wasn't a possibility in the world of Greg being anything but the same. So he smiled and took a bite of his steak, immediately coughing and almost spitting it back out. He'd been standing there so long it had gone cold.

He sighed and put it in the microwave. While he waited Greg came and shoved his plate in to the dishwasher, ruffling his hair on the way by to grab a bottle of water. Nick smiled and watched him closely as he rummaged in the fridge. When they had first moved in, Greg had been so skinny he looked ready to collapse. Then he had started working out alongside Nick. Now he had rounded out and developed a generous amount of muscle as well, giving him a solid stature. His taste in clothes hadn't mellowed appreciably, but at least they fit him now, instead of hanging off his body like a scarecrow. His hair was still splotched with random spots of yellow, and though Nick often thought of him as blonde, his roots were as chocolaty as his big eyes.

When the unwitting observed stood up he was sporting his million-dollar smile, holding up a tub of icing and looking at it like it were the woman he'd been waiting all his life for. A spoonful later and his face had an almost sexual look of ecstasy. Then he left to go play his game again, bringing the icing as a snack. Nick leaned against the cupboard, thinking. About what, he didn't know, but it had something to do with the man he shared his home with. An hour later he was still in the kitchen and he hadn't gotten anywhere, so he grabbed his shirt off the couch and went to bed.

Nick woke with a start as something exceedingly cold brushed his arm. He jerked and saw the shivering figure of Greg lying in his bed, back towards him. Without stopping to think he reached out and pulled the man closer, noting how cold his skin was. The first time they had slept in the same bed, they'd been living together for two years, and Nick had had a horrible nightmare about the glass box. His screams had woken Greg, and the younger man had come and held him until he fell asleep again. He hadn't shown a hint of discomfort the next evening when they woke up tangled in each other. After that, it just became normal that if either of them had a nightmare, or even if they were just cold, like now, they would wordlessly crawl in with the other. Through his haze of sleep, Nick could feel Greg snuggling closer.

"Ah, Texas heat," the younger man murmured, already on the verge of oblivion. Nick smiled and closed his eyes again, until Warrick's words once more slammed in to his brain. As he suddenly tensed, soft breathing evened out and he was left the only one awake and kept that way with his awkward thoughts. It took hours to convince himself he was reading way too much in to everything and allow sleep to come back to him. By that time, it was only a short while until he was being shaken awake. He hid his head under the pillow and groaned. The world was too cruel, to wake him at this hour.

"Niiiiiiick, do you want to be late?" The pillow muffled Greg's sing song voice, but those were just the right words to get him up. Damn it. Live with a person for just a little while and suddenly they know you better than you know yourself. He threw the pillow away and saw that Greg was already showered and dressed, and soundlessly laughing at him. He scowled and rolled out of the bed.

He got ready as slowly as he could afford and let Greg drive today; he was just too tired. When they arrived at the lab together, as they had done almost every day for he last seven years, they could see people's heads poking out of their stations and staring at them curiously. They looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and continued to their lockers. Maybe five minutes later Cath and Sara showed up. They tried to be nonchalant, but it was all too obvious what they wanted. They didn't ask anything, just stood there silently, until the boys couldn't take it.

"Spit it out already!" Greg finally shot over his shoulder exasperatedly. "Yes we live together, no we're not dating, is there anything else?" Nick tried to disguise his snort of laughter as a cough, but it didn't come off well, and Greg smiled at him. The two women gaped for a moment longer before Sara huffed and crossed her arms.

"How did you manage to not tell us this for seven years?" she demanded. The two boys had to think about that. Greg stared in to his open locker, not actually seeing any of the spare clothes inside of it, and spoke to the two behind him without turning around.

"I thought Nick would be uncomfortable with people knowing, so I didn't say anything. But really you guys, you're CSIs, shouldn't you have figured it out on your own? I was always there when you dropped by, my stuff was everywhere. Half the time I wasn't wearing a shirt. We always come in the same car. How did you not know?" he absently played with one of the shirts, unfolding and refolding it, trying to busy himself so he wouldn't have to look at anyone. He could feel Nick's eyes on him and he wasn't sure if he wanted to meet them or not.

"I figured you guys hung out a lot," Catherine said. "Although I suppose the car and the shirt should have tipped us off. You know Sara, he's right. We're pretty bad at our job if it was this obvious and we never picked up on it." Sara could be heard to huff again, slightly offended by that statement. Then Catherine spoke up again. "So why did you think Nick would be uncomfortable?" Greg tensed a bit when he felt Nick's eyes bore in to him with even more intensity, no doubt wondering the same thing. He pretended to be absorbed in rummaging through his things for something on the bottom.

"I…" Greg stuttered for words, his head deep in the small metal box. "Uh, well I guess I thought you guys might all react like Warrick did and Nick's about as straight as the Nevada borderline. I just didn't- well I didn't want him to- ok so I thought he might be ashamed of it. Anywho, I need some coffee." With that the blonde man tossed the door of his locker closed and bolted away from any other questions that might arise. Instead of heading for the break room, however, he went straight to Grissom's office.

The boss had him working a scene alone, thankfully, and he set off in the Jetta he'd driven to get here. Nick was paired with Catherine, so they could take her car. Besides, they didn't have keys to each other's vehicles, so it's not like he was inconveniencing the other man by taking the car. As he pulled away, he sighed in relief, knowing that he would have at least a few hours until Nick confronted him, or hopefully he had a few hours in which Nick would forget what he said.

When they'd gotten the apartment together, they hadn't discussed whether or not to tell people. They were both so swept up in the idea that they had someone friendly to live with and they didn't have to always be alone anymore that it took six months to come down from that high, and by then the issue was rather pointless. But Greg had always wondered. Would Nick be weird about telling their coworkers he lived with another man? And after the second year he wondered if he would be ashamed to admit that sometimes they shared the same bed. It wasn't anything sexual, but Greg knew it was still far away from the norm. He sighed as the car rolled to a stop outside of a simple B&E, dropping his head to the steering wheel.

If Nick suddenly stopped and pulled away from him, Greg wasn't sure what he would do. He'd grown too complacent, letting himself fall deeper and deeper in to the patterns. He'd come to rely on the comfort of Nick, and begun taking advantage of having a safe place to hide. Without that warm Texan blanket, he wasn't sure he'd last. His dreams would in all likelihood drive him to the brink, and without the cool calm words that had reined him in time after time, Greg wasn't sure he wouldn't explode under the pressure. With another deep sigh he unbuckled himself and went in to take a frightened lady's statement.

Back at the lab, Catherine and Nick were stuck there doing paperwork, not having any more leads to follow on their case. They'd already been out to their scene after having searched everywhere for Greg and turning up empty-handed. But after an hour there was nothing left to process, so here they were, waiting for Hodges to finish running their trace while they wrote up the current reports. Nick felt his mind drift away the papers in front of him many times, and didn't bother trying to deny that it was Greg in his head. He kept replaying the words the man had said. I thought he might be ashamed. How could Greg think he would be ashamed?

Nick let out a sound of disgust, knowing he wasn't getting anywhere, and stood to get more coffee. It tasted like crap, but it penetrated the fog in his brain. He picked up his pen again, uncharacteristically chewing the end as he stared blindly at the break table. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped a little, looking around wildly. It was just Catherine though, reaching out to him with a look of concern in her eyes.

"You're still thinking about him too, huh?" she asked. He gave her an easy smile and nodded. Even if she was only eight years older, she slipped so easily in to the mother role that he felt young again all of a sudden. His emotions, however, were suffering a very adult confusion.

"Why would I be ashamed of him Cath? He's my best friend." He knit his brows together. Voicing the question only seemed to make it sound worse, and he didn't like that at all. Catherine brought him back to reality again when she shook her head, obviously as out of answers as he was. But her face showed concern and he sensed that it wasn't all directed at him. She was worried about the youngest CSI as well.

"Well he mentioned your being straight," she said slowly. "Maybe he thought you didn't want people getting the wrong idea like Warrick did. I know he looks like he's got all the confidence in the world, but haven't you ever noticed how fragile he really is?" Nick raised one eyebrow and she continued. "He's very self-conscious. I'd be willing to bet my job that he didn't tell anyone because he was worried it would hurt you, and you might want him to leave." Nick opened his mouth to say something but Hodges chose that moment to run in waving their results.

The substance they found actually opened a lead, and Nick sat in the passenger side brooding all the way to where ever it was Catherine was taking them. What she had said made a lot of sense, and he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. He thought back to all the times people would ask Greg when they would get to see his place. Both he and Nick would laugh, thinking it to be a joke, because they thought people knew their living arrangements. But now that he thought about it, that would have been the perfect opportunity for Greg to speak up, and if he thought about it more he realized that Greg's laughter at that joke was always a trifle nervous.

So he was afraid. He was afraid of hurting Nick. The older man felt a small bubble of fondness swelling in his chest and he suddenly smiled at his window. A better friend, no man could ask for. When they pulled up to a small rundown bakery he had an extra bounce in his step as they walked inside. Catherine seemed to know exactly where his thoughts had ended up, since she rested a fond hand on his shoulder as they walked inside the dark shop.

The rest of the day went very slow for both Greg and Nick. One dreaded going home and the other couldn't wait for it. Greg's foul, nervous mood must have somehow shown on his face. He noticed that the witnesses he interviewed all seemed a little frightened of talking with him. Often his friendly open face made him the only one that they would speak to, and it had been a cause for great amusement between him and the others. Today, he was in no mood for niceties, so recorded their statements stone faced and processed the scene in silence.

It was starting to look like more than the simple break and enter it had been called in as, and when his investigation of the perimeter turned up a dead body in the bushes he sighed. This only meant extra work, longer hours, and less sleep. His only silver lining was that it meant he could avoid facing Nick for a little bit longer. Backup was called in, bringing Grissom to his scene, and he was unaware that his unnatural silence bothered his mentor. He worked without the normal jokes, not feeling up to it, and instead took his cue from the older CSI to just get in, do it right, and get out. It still took hours.

By the time they were finished he was dying for something to drink. The water bottle in the Jetta was warm, but still felt heavenly sliding down his parched throat. He followed Grissom back to the lab and offered to bring all the evidence in to be logged. It was stacked so high that he couldn't see in front of himself, so as he dragged himself through the halls he didn't spot Nick until he they drew abreast of each other.

"Greg!"

"AH!" The blonde yelled, startled by Nick's not so sudden appearance. The evidence he was carrying toppled out of his arms. Thankfully, there was nothing breakable in any of the bags, or he would have been in so much trouble. They both stared down at the brown paper and clear plastic now littering the hall and Nick suddenly burst out laughing. Greg scowled as he bent to pick it all up, piling it precariously in one arm, using the other to gather more. Still scowling, he turned to walk away but Nick grabbed his arm, taking the top of the pile away.

"Here, let me help," he offered. Greg eyed him suspiciously but he pulled an innocent face and led the way, leaving the blonde to scurry after him. They both stayed silent until all the bags were recorded and put away, and neither said a word while they walked side by side to their lockers, again ignoring the curious stares from the lab rats. Greg had his shirt half off, covering his head, when Nick finally decided to speak up and assuage his worries.

"You know, you didn't have to be afraid," he spoke up out of nowhere. "I'm not ashamed of living with you G." Greg lost his balance, and would have toppled over the bench if Nick hadn't caught him and sat him down. He fought with the evil garment until he was able to tear it off, throw it away, and stare at his best friend. Nick was smiling down at him with those eyes crinkled fondly and his lips pushed up at the corners like they did when he was truly happy about something. Greg loved to see him happy, but he didn't understand what was causing it right now. So he settled for staring. Nick chuckled, reaching in to Greg's locker and picking out a wild red and yellow shirt for him, tossing it over.

"You're not embarrassed by me?" Greg asked in a small voice. Nick stared down at him, smile falling off. He was quick to kneel down in front of the younger man and put a hand on his arm reassuringly.

"G, no way!" he cried. "You're the best friend a guy could ask for. Now, what do you say we head home? I could really go for some of those pancakes you make so well." He stood up and indicated the exit with a tilt of his head. Greg took a few more seconds to process his words, then he smiled brightly, almost shyly. He stood as well, put on the shirt that had been tossed to him, and grabbed his kit from beside his feet. They headed off together and were just passing the break room when the door burst open.

"'Scuse me Nick I need him for a second, thanks!" Warrick exploded out of nowhere, speaking rapidly, then suddenly he had grabbed Greg by the collar of his shirt, yanked him in to the room, and slammed the door. Nick stared at it, stunned in to immobility. He tried the handle and found it locked. The curtains were drawn across the large glass window, so he couldn't even see inside to watch their reactions. With a huff he crossed his arms and waited impatiently.

It didn't take very long for the door to open again, and when it did he was afire with curiosity. That curiosity went down in flames, however, and was replaced with worry when Greg came out alone and looking suddenly morose. He'd been vibrating with happiness a minute ago, what could possibly have happened? Greg refused to answer though, and Warrick had shut and locked the door again to keep him out. Nick badgered Greg all the way to the car, and all the way home. When they got there, the blonde shook himself and smiled brightly – falsely – at Nick.

"So, pancakes?" he said with fake cheer. Nick watched him gathering the utensils he would need and wondered what could possibly have been said to cause such a terrible shift in moods. Greg was almost never down, it was just who he was, so bad moods were always to be taken special note of. It meant something big had happened. He continued to wonder, but Greg refused all attempts to find out. The Californian could dodge questions with the best of them, and he knew all the best ways to divert Nick's attention. It usually involved food or taking about women. Tonight it was food.

Though Nick had ostensibly dropped the issue as soon as he had been fed, Greg knew better. He did his best to appear as normal as he could. After a good sleep, he'd be a better actor, but for now, all he wanted was to curl up and forget. So after he had eaten he sank himself in to a video game, losing at football five times in a row, before he headed to bed with great relief.

Sleep would not come to him, though. He tossed and turned long after he heard Nick shut the systems down and go to bed. No doubt he was in the other room, easily asleep. Greg was loath to wake him two nights in a row, but he needed comfort right now. It was noon when he slipped from his own bed and crept across the hall, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Nick was lying on his side, a tiny ray of sunlight slipping past the blackout curtains to fall across his exposed back. He had apparently kicked the blankets down unconsciously. Greg smiled as stole under the sheets next to him, curling up behind him and inhaling his calming scent. It was like breathing in the desert heat.

Nick mumbled, signifying that he hadn't totally been asleep, and rolled over. He sleepily pushed Greg on his back and laid his dark head on the Californian's chest, letting slip a small contented noise. Greg let himself relax in to the familiar position and he closed his eyes, the sound of rhythmic breathing soothing his troubled mind. Within minutes he slept, blissfully unaware that Nick lay awake, ear pressed to his heart, and worried.