Close Your Eyes and Count to Five

Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Words: 3540
Summary: It was because it didn't make sense that Greg knew where they were, but he wasn't sure if he knew where they were going.

***

One

Greg removed his hand from his chin; his mouth turning into a frown as his foot began to tap to nonexistent music. He was beginning to feel restless. A patient person he could be, but waiting wasn't really his forte. His body began to move to some made-up rhythm; slightly rotating back and forth in the swivel chair.

The silence wasn't unbearable and wasn't even that tense kind of silence that made him want to talk just for the sake of creating a noise of some kind. Instead, it was that kind of silence where there was a notion of expectance in the air. Although, Greg didn't know who was supposed to be expecting from whom or if what he was expecting was even relevant to relationship he had with the person in front of him. Regardless, it was a silence he could handle.

But still...he was nervous.

Of course, being nervous was something Greg had no problem admitting to. However, it wasn't something he liked to experience all the same. Mostly because only two things truly made him nervous: When he honestly wanted obtain the approval of someone or when he honestly wanted to impress someone.

And he was pretty sure that in this case it was a strange combination of the two; especially since the two instances of ‘someone' were actually the same person.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Greg resisted the urge to hum as the thuds of his tapping foot became louder and the motions of his body were becoming more pronounced. He was tempted to run a hand through his hair – something he'd picked up from the man across from him – when there was a light beeping sound.

"Finally," he said as he moved to the other side of the room; his chair rolling over the floor and stopping next to a small desk; on which sat a printer. Biting the corner of his bottom lip, he retrieved the sheet of paper collected on the printer tray; taking a corner between his thumb and forefinger and creating a swishing noise as the sheet was removed.

Paper now held in both hands, Greg read the results out loud as he made his way back to the small table. "The blood found on the knife handle is a match to Mrs. Whittaker?" Confusion marred his features when he peered up at the person standing across from him. "So...the mother killed her son? But her files said she died a couple of years ago."

"Well, apparently not," the man said, taking the printout from Greg's hands and looking it over carefully. "She was a nurse, so I guess that's why she's even in the system," he remarked more to himself than to Greg.

"But still," Greg began as he placed his elbows on the table; resting his chin in the palm of his hand, "even if she wasn't – isn't – dead, why would she come back to kill her own son?"

"No idea, but I think this is the part where I'm supposed to come in." The man smiled knowingly, as if relishing in a secret Greg would never be able to understand. But it didn't stop Greg from trying. "Thanks, boss," he said, paper firmly in hand as he turned to leave the small room.

"...Nick?" Greg began; licking lips that suddenly became dry. Nick's shoes squeaked on the tiled floor as he turned around.

"...yeah?" the older man asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he placed a hand on the glass wall. "You have something else for me?"

Greg found himself absently playing with the hands in his lap, the words he planned to say once teetering on the tip tongue now gone and replaced with the urge to stammer. "Um...I..."

"Greg...?"

"Never mind," Greg finally said, pressing cracked lips together as Nick shrugged; the other man pushing off the wall and walking away.

Two

It wasn't something Greg immediately noticed; more gradual than anything else and Greg wondered if it was so subtle that even Nick didn't notice.

Or maybe Nick didn't want to notice.

There was a slight change between them that Greg couldn't quite place and really didn't want to place at this point even though it was something that frequently found its way into his thoughts. But he attributed that to the fact that he nearly came into contact with Nick on a daily basis and the fact that they'd actually developed something of a relationship, lately.

Greg had known of Nick an entire year before he the chance to actually get to know Nick. His first year at the lab, the two of them hadn't really spoken much. And in their defence, Greg could say there wasn't really anything to talk about back then. Though, awkward moments grew into awkward conversations and then into a kind of comfortable banter that mostly involved Greg's penchant for horrible puns and the expressive and more entertaining faces Nick made because of them.

But it wasn't until Greg sprained his ankle a few months ago that he and Nick began to develop something in earnest.

Though, it was such a strange instance and even stranger for Greg because he initiated it. Knowing how he behaved when he was somehow incapacitated or under influence of medicine – more specifically his lack of coherency – Greg didn't know why he called Nick that day; didn't remember how he even knew Nick was off or what even possessed him to ask the older man for help instead of one of the few friends he had outside of work.

In the end, he wasn't sure what surprised him more: The fact that Nick actually answered his call or the fact that Nick took him to the hospital and ended up carrying Greg to the older man's apartment.

Of course, Greg wasn't that lucid then to actually remember Nick carrying him on his back. But the reality that Nick went out of his way to help him remained a heavy presence in Greg's mind because it seemed to be the catalyst that led to the two of them interacting outside of work; doing things...friends would do, which was a considerable departure from the way he and Nick once were.

But then something started to happen between them, where the repartee suddenly began to fall flat and they didn't spend as much time together as they used to. It was like meeting Nick for the first time all over again and Greg wasn't sure when they fell off the verge of that thing he may have even called friendship.

It was that gradual change that happened without his consent and one Greg was now starting to notice. Though, while he protested the growing disparity in his relationship with Nick, at the same time, there was something preventing him from actually approaching the topic with the other man. And if he were to be honest with himself, Greg would even go as far to say that he was almost...afraid of doing so.

He knew it didn't make sense and there wasn't much to be afraid of where Nick was concerned. Because the only way to describe Nick was that he was...Nick and someone Greg had grown to admire on a level that probably surpassed healthy. But it was like there was some kind of secret he himself didn't remember or wasn't willing to confront – probably the reasoning behind his irrational fear – and the only thing that he subconsciously allowed to come to mind was the fact that it had to do with Nick.

The idea in itself filled Greg with an uncertainty that did nothing to alleviate him. If he wasn't so tired, he would have reached for his phone and called a friend, but if he couldn't even explain it to himself, there was no way he would be able to effectively communicate to someone else. So, he resolved not to look into it any further and put it away for another day; preferably one where he didn't have to wake up for work in six hours.

And as he pulled the blanket over his head, Greg yawned into the pillow, closing his eyes and curling up on the couch.

Three

It was hot – and so unbelievably humid outside that Greg decided before he even made it to the lab that he was going to eat the rest of Mandy's double chocolate chip ice cream and replace it later when she wasn't looking.

After leaving the bliss that was his air-conditioned car, Greg immediately made a beeline for the break room; grateful for the leeway he was allotted for coming to work early. After entering the building, the heat didn't bother him anymore; cool air enveloping his skin. But it didn't curb the craving for the frozen dessert, which Greg admitted that he'd had as soon as he left his apartment.

When he finally did reach the break room, Greg found his intentions of pillaging Mandy's ice cream led astray by the sight of Nick crouching down in front of the refrigerator; the older man reaching in the back for something Greg couldn't see. And when Nick decided to rise – a bottle of water in his hand - Greg also found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the room.

Because during his relatively brief bout scheming, Greg didn't think that someone else would be in the break room at this time; especially if that someone was Nick. Not to mention the fact that no one normally came in the break room this time of day. It certainly put a damper on his plans.

Though, this unexpected variable was also the same reason Greg soon found himself unconsciously taking another step closer to Nick that turned into something more than vaguely close to a near excursion to the floor. And when Nick caught him, some part of Greg thought it more than a little disturbing when his mind concocted some kind of deranged metaphor involving centripetal forces and Nick acting as some kind of rotational axis because he definitely felt that he would fall if the older man let go.

Greg's forearms were resting on Nick's chest, the only barrier really separating him from Nick. He became still, body taut as his eyes wandered to the floor, where the bottle of water Nick took out the refrigerator was now; the cap lying some distance away from the actual bottle, and water steadily coming out of it.

The internal debate about tiles and liquid being better than carpet and liquid (even though the liquid was still water in both scenarios) was pushed into the recesses of Greg's mind as he felt his body begin to shake involuntarily. And it wasn't until he became aware that it was Nick who was causing the shaking did Greg realise that the other man was talking to him.

"Greg?" Nick tried again, and Greg's eyes widened when Nick looked at him with concern, which seemed to take Greg out of whatever daze he was in.

"Sorry," Greg said quickly, pushing away from Nick before the apology even left his lips. He didn't know if he was sorry for making Nick drop his water or if he was sorry for nearly taking Nick with him to the floor. But he did know that there was a new source of heat emanating from his face that he really didn't want to explain – or rather didn't know how to explain – to the other man right now.

And despite the curious way Nick was regarding him, the skin around his eyes creasing and a frown appearing on his face, Greg countered with a nervous laugh that only made the worry lines on Nick's forehead more prominent. So, he did the only thing he could think of that wouldn't lead to further embarrassment and ran; Nick's voice saying his name again ignored for the sake of keeping whatever was left of his currently nonexistent dignity.

And it wasn't until Greg was safely inside his lab that he realised he'd forgotten about the ice cream.

Four

He couldn't really hear the voices through the glass wall, but nonetheless, Greg found himself watching Nick and Catherine attentively. Part of him was curious about the case with the "Undead" Mother, as Mary Whittaker was currently known in the lab and in the station. It wasn't everyday that the deceased came back to life, even in someplace like Vegas. And Greg surmised that the rumour mill would be more than eventful in the next couple of days; especially with theories about zombies and vampires circulating. But no one really took it seriously.

Though, his interest in the Whittaker case was currently undermined by the part of him that – well, he didn't know exactly what this part of him wanted, but it was the reason why he was staring at Nick.

It probably had something to do with what happened yesterday; the embarrassment lingering and Greg wasn't sure if it would ever go away. But contrary to what he thought now, the logical part of Greg knew it would disappear eventually. Because it wasn't enough to distract him from the fact that the reasoning behind his "Nick gazing" was more likely due to yesterday's incident being closest he'd been to Nick in a long time; since the older man came to his apartment to watch that movie Greg wasn't even bothered to remember.

When Nick began to move his hands animatedly, Greg narrowed his eyes in concentration; trying to discern the direction of the conversation between Catherine and Nick through body language alone. He wasn't much for reading lips, but he mimicked their voices in his head, anyway; trying to fit what they would say into what he thought was happening. Because by the expression on Nick's face, it seemed like they finally got a lead on the case and Greg couldn't lie and say Nick's smile wasn't infectious.

"What are you smiling for?"

Greg jumped, turning around suddenly and almost falling out of his chair; the commotion causing a few people nearby to look in his direction. But he ignored them, feeling a slight relief when he noticed that Catherine and Nick had already left the hallway.

"Jesus, Bobby," Greg said, placing a hand over where his heart would be. He concentrated on inhaling slowly until his breathing returned to some semblance of normal. "You scared me."

"Obviously." Bobby snorted, giving Greg a wryly smile. "See something interesting?"

"Not really."

"Then what were you smiling at?"

"I was smiling?"

Bobby nodded slowly in affirmation and Greg felt his shoulders sag as a heavy sigh escaped him.

Five

Greg groaned as his forehead hit the locker with a bang; hoping there wouldn't be a bruise for the whole world to see by sometime tomorrow. And if there was a dent in the locker...well, he'd worry about that at another time.

The temporary pain produced by the action was pushed aside in favour of the fact that Greg had yet to find the cause behind his newly situated apprehension towards Nick and just exactly what it was that was causing them to drift apart. To be honest, he had to admit that it was sincerely beginning to bother him...maybe more than it should.

And maybe it was because he was taking the whole thing so seriously. Not quite to the ‘life and death situation' extent, or even to the ‘sleepless nights' extent. But it was to the point where the impulse to figure out the proverbial why was fostering like some kind of swelling on his head; and ironically, not too dissimilar from the one on his forehead.

The metal cool still against his skin, Greg was surprised that he didn't hear the footsteps in a room that reverberated sound pretty well, but prided himself on the fact that Nick's voice didn't startle him. And while it could have something to do with the fact he almost expected it; that was something else entirely within itself that Greg didn't want to psychoanalyse anytime soon.

Nick muttered a small greeting as he opened his own locker, prompting Greg to open his eyes and wonder why he didn't leave them closed in the first place. Normally, he would have replied with a "hey" or something along those lines. But he found himself momentarily distracted by the fact that Nick was changing shirts in front of him. Not like it was an unusual occurrence, but this time there was something...interesting about it.

Staring unabashedly at Nick's chest, Greg found himself somewhat disappointed when it was covered by another shirt; at which point he simultaneously realised that he was in fact thoroughly examining Nick's upper body.

Greg wasn't really sure when his hero-worship of Nick turned into...this, but the epiphany that had just occurred served as an explicative to his behaviour concerning anything that had to do with the other man; furthering the idea that he might have actually taken more out of his relationship with Nick then what he should have.

It was still taking time for the realisation to actually sink in (some of the time Greg could blame on the concept of denial), and when Nick rested a hand on his shoulder, Greg wasn't really too surprised when he immediately backed away, intentionally placing some distance between himself and the older man.

"You're not getting sick on me again," Nick said; a teasing note in his voice that was quickly becoming concern, "are you?"

"Why?" Greg asked, with an awkward kind of cheerful smile used for that initial stage of excitement when he had an understanding of something. "You actually like taking care of me?" Though, the grin on his face disappeared when Greg saw the expression on Nick's face.

And it wasn't until he grasped what he actually said that Greg wanted to retract it. He hadn't really meant to say it, didn't even know what compelled those words to come out of his mouth; and especially in a situation where he was vaguely aware that some part of him really wouldn't mind Nick taking care of him, again.

He hadn't even fully accepted that he harboured some kind of...crush on Nick and he was already in the throes of trying not to jeopardise what was left of their friendship because of it. There was something extremely tempting about running away this time, like he did a few days ago in the break room. But there was also something extremely obstructive about the fact that Nick was currently blocking the only way out of the locker room.

He briefly wondered if he could hide in the showers. Nick's mouth was still set in a straight line and his eyes were focused on Greg; immediately dispelling the thought of hiding from his mind as that small piece of remaining logic told him Nick would be probably be more concerned if he did try to leave. And while Greg didn't know what the other man was thinking, it didn't stop him from withering beneath Nick's steady gaze; making him feel as if...

But if Nick knew...if he even suspected Greg's feelings for him went beyond those associated with friendship, Greg knew that the time they spent building a relationship would amount to nothing. And even if there was a small possibility that Nick may have felt the same way, or that Nick would somehow ignore the one-sided attraction that would inevitably hover over them like a dark shroud, frankly, Greg wasn't willing to take the chance that might end up estranging them even further.

So, when Nick reached a hand to touch Greg's forehead, Greg backed away deliberately, reluctantly and gave the other man a somewhat hesitant grin; hoping the bruise wasn't already visible. "Joking – I was joking."

Nick continued to look at him warily, crossing his arms in a gesture that told Greg the older man didn't believe him.

"I'm fine," Greg tried to assure again. "Look, we're even having a conversation where it's not just you talking and me staring." He inwardly flinched at his choice of words, understanding the veiled significance that had more to do with his current predicament than the time Nick came to his apartment when Greg was sick.

"You've been acting kind of jumpy, lately," Nick said as he gave a small, wavering smile. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Greg rolled his eyes, snorting more for his own benefit than Nick's in an attempt to try to convince himself that he would be okay. Because if he couldn't convince himself, he knew he couldn't convince Nick.

And to his relief, Nick seemed to believe him. The other man rested his hands at his sides, his body more relaxed as he looked at Greg almost fondly, or what Greg liked to think of as fondly. But he shook his head, more than willing to replace his thoughts with something far more tangible and closer within his reach.

"Warrick told me you finally found Mrs. Whittaker," Greg said with an exaggerated grin, looking at Nick keenly as he waited for the other man's response.

"Yep," Nick said surely, almost proudly, "she was hiding out in a museum of all places."