: Inspiration
By: Perpetual Motion
Pairing: Greg/Warrick
Disclaimer: They're Bruckheimer's. If he ever wants to give up Greg or Sara, I am so there to collect.
Author's Notes: National Novel Writer's Month (NaNoWriMo) starts in 12-1/2 hours, my time. I'm itching to get going, so I made someone else come up with an idea. To learn more about NaNo, go here: www.nanowrimo.org. For Julian Lee, who's doing this too.
Summary: Greg's doing NaNo. Warrick is his muse.

Warrick woke up sometime mid-morning and discovered he had to pee. He peeled himself off the bed, padded into the bathroom, and relieved himself. It was only as he was crawling back into bed that he noticed Greg wasn't there. He checked the clock by the bed; 11:27. They'd gotten in at 8:00 after a double shift. Greg should have been sleeping the sleep of the exhausted.

Warrick's brow creased in worry, and he walked out of the bedroom calling softly for Greg. "Greg, man, you around?"

"In here." Greg's voice was equally soft but carried from the living room with no problem. He was sitting on the sofa in Warrick's pajama pants with the laptop in front of him on the coffee table. He was typing madly, eyes barely flicking up from the screen at the sight of the other man. "I wake you?"

"Nah. Had to pee. What are you doing up?" Warrick pushed down the urge to ask if Greg was having nightmares. He'd promised to try and cut back on that question since Greg's hands had stopped shaking.

"NaNo." Greg continued to type.

Warrick was confused. "NaNo?"

"National Novel Writer's Month. I told you I was doing it this year, didn't I?"

Somewhere in the back of his brain, Warrick had a vague recollection of Greg going on about something that was abbreviated down to a funny word. "Yeah. I think. Remind me, would you?"

"175 pages in thirty days, or if you prefer big numbers, 50,000 words." Greg finally looked up from the computer with a grin. "I hit my halfway point yesterday, and I got a new idea for today, and I wanted to get it down before I forgot it."

"How long have you been up?" Warrick slumped onto the couch, head back and his eyes closed as he yawned.

"About half an hour. I woke up with this idea and had to get it down. I didn't want to forget it." Greg's voice had taken on that excited edge that meant he wanted to go on about his latest project as soon as someone asked the right questions.

Warrick really wanted to go back to bed, but he wanted Greg curled up beside him when he did it, so he asked the question. "What's it about?"

Greg grinned. "There's a beautiful but lonely lab tech who falls in love with his buff but unattainable co-worker."

"You have *got* to be kidding."

"I am." Greg's grin got wider, and he dodged Warrick as the other man tried to poke him in the ribs. "Stop, or you'll never hear the real idea!"

"You have those?" This time it was Warrick who was dodging fingers. "Okay! I give!" Warrick relaxed as Greg put his hand down. "What's your *real* idea?"

"A girl who lives in a basement and has visions of people's deaths, and if she can save one person, the visions will stop, but she keeps getting to the people she sees after they're already dead. So she starts to think that maybe someone else is getting her visions, too, and killing the people before she gets to them."

"Why?"

"Because everytime she gets a vision is makes her just a little bit weaker, and it takes her a while to get her strength back. The more visions she gets, the weaker she gets, and it'll eventually kill her if she doesn't save someone."

Warrick was slightly surprised to find himself intrigued by the idea. "But why give her visions that might kill her?"

Greg shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't know where she got the visions from either. She just has them, and they could kill her, and someone else is out there killing the people she's supposed to save because they want her dead. The police think she's nuts, so she's on her own with the thing." Greg typed a couple of more lines into his computer before looking over at Warrick again. "What do you think?"

It was a little-known secret that Warrick had a thing for really creative guys who could do shit like write stories that he hadn't even *imagined* before. "That's a hell of a story." He leaned in and kissed Greg. "How much more do you have to go?" He kissed Greg's ear and bent his head, aiming for his collarbone.

"About 80 pages, give or take." Greg shuddered as Warrick kissed one of his newly-healed burn scars.

"Think you can squeeze in a break?" Warrick slid a hand up over Greg's ribs, stopping to press his fingers against a ticklish spot.

Greg carefully put the laptop on the coffee table and reclined on the couch. "I think I've got a little time."

"You sure? I don't want you wasting valuable writing time with me." Warrick grinned as Greg put both hands on his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Making out with my muse isn't a time waster. We're merely having an exchange of ideas."

"Oh?" Warrick opened his mouth as it met Greg's, sliding their tongues together as he balanced on his forearms. "So," slide, "I'm your," slide, "muse?" He pressed against Greg's mouth a little more and loved the sigh he got.

"Well," Greg pulled away from Warrick and gave him a wicked grin. "Sex is usually my best inspiration, so it seemed like a good idea."

"I see." Warrick slid a hand down the front of Greg's body with a smile. "Let's see if we can keep you inspired."