fic: shift
first fic in many, many months, and first foray into nick/greg. feedback would be great.

title: shift
rating: pg, for words
warnings: homophobic attitude
an: fluff. takes place after sherlock, but before season 8.





It had been a quiet day at work. Both Nick and Greg were seated in the break room, Greg stirring his cup of soup while Nick added another pack of sweetener to his coffee. He looked up as Greg slurped his noodles, splashing broth over the CSI’s face. He grimaced and sat down across.

“I still don’t know how you eat those damn things.”

“I-” Greg never got to finish as Grissom walked in, sighing.

“Nick, Greg, I need you to take over a case from days,” he stated casually, wiping his glasses with the end of his shirt.

Nick arched an eyebrow. “Conflict of interest?” Grissom’s eyeglasses returned to his face and he paused, giving time for Greg to slurp away. Now it was Grissom’s turn to raise a brow.

“You could call it that.” Another pause as Grissom looked through the folder and Nick took a sip of coffee. “Michael from days had been overheard by the vic’s girlfriend, saying something none too nicely. She filed a discrimination suit against him. Undersheriff thought it’d be best to hand the case to another shift.” He placed the brown file folder on the table and turned to walk out.

“What did he say?” Greg, always the curious one. Grissom turned around and bore a tight smile.

“Something about not wanting to work a goddamned dyke’s death. The girlfriend was still in the apartment grabbing some clothes while she stayed with her brother.”

Both Greg and Nick grimaced at the words, Greg’s eyes slanting as he could see Michael through the many glass walls, laughing away on his phone.

“Bastard.”

“On your own time, Greg,” were the last words from Grissom as he exited the room.

Nick nodded, more for himself than for anything else, and pushed his chair back to stand, staring at Greg. “You okay?”

Greg shook his head and stood as well, tossing his cup in the sink and running a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He brushed by Nick on his way to the lockers, eyes boring straight ahead and a blank expression.

It wasn’t until he was safe by his locker that he frowned and slammed his fist across the metal door. He winced slightly at the pain, but was comforted that he hadn’t cut himself on one of the air vents. He sighed as arms wrapped around from behind him.

“Hey.” Greg’s lips smiled at the greeting and the soft kiss he felt brushed against his neck.

“Hey,” he answered back, running his hand over the back of Nick’s worked ones.

“You okay?” Nick pressed a kiss to the top of his head, rubbing his thumb along Greg’s side. Greg nodded this time, pressing into Nick’s chest, his nose in Nick’s neck.

“Some people are just assholes. That don’t deserve to work here.” Nick snickered and pressed a kiss to Greg’s forehead.

“Yeah? You going to be okay for the case?”

“The case? Not a problem. If I ever have to face Michael, though, that’s an entirely different situation.”

Nick laughed this time, releasing Greg and moving towards his own locker, grabbing his vest. They got ready in silence until Greg broke it.

“So, you think Grissom knows?” Greg’s head never left his locker as he reached deep for his field shoes. Nick just paused, arm stretched out to close his locker.

“Either he knows and he’s just testing us, or it’s really over his head. No in-betweens.” Nick closed his locker and brushed a hand across Greg’s lower back. “I’ll see you in the car.” He walked to door, throwing out “five minutes” over his shoulder. Greg chorused “yeahyeahyeahyeah” as he sat on the bench to tie his shoes, then rubbed a hand across his neck.

He hoped it was the latter.