Title: Made to be Broken
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-ep for "Snakes".

"So the whole place is packing, right…"

"Wait. The whole place?"

"Well I didn't take inventory, but yeah, pretty much everybody." Nick holds his gaze for just a second, doing that funny little frown that makes his forehead wrinkle. Then he turns back to Warrick and launches back into his story, hands waving in front of him and Greg shakes his head and turns away.

Nick's too caught up in reliving all the details to notice, so Greg shoves his coat in his locker and pulls his lab coat back on. And it's his own fault he's working a double, but the night shift's going to be even longer now that he has to spend the night playing the image of Nick and a roomful of gun-wielding gangsters over and over.

He knows it's part of the job. He still remembers the sound of gunshots way too close to him, remembers the way his heart raced when he thought that gangbanger was shooting at them. That doesn't really make him feel any better, though, not when Nick sounds so happy about it. Proud of himself, like his narrow escape from death had something to do with skill instead of just dumb luck.

Greg shakes his head at the thought and shuts his locker a little too hard, forgetting for a second that he's not alone in the room. When he remembers he looks up to find Nick and Warrick both looking at him, but as soon as he makes eye contact Warrick clears his throat and looks away.

"Yeah, well, nice save, man. I'll catch you tomorrow."

Warrick glances between them one more time before he heads out of the locker room, and Greg knows he should probably be embarrassed about his reaction to Nick's story, but he can't make himself care. Not when Nick's going home to sleep and he's still got a whole shift ahead of him. And with his luck nothing will happen tonight, and he'll be stuck in the lab trying to decide if he wants to kill Nick himself or just kiss him until he forgets why he was mad in the first place.

Right now he's leaning toward a quick and bloody murder, because Nick's giving him that look like he's not sure what Greg's problem is. "What?"

"Nothing," Greg answers, arms crossed tight over his chest. "What do I care if you want to get yourself killed?"

"Killed?" Nick repeats, letting out a little laugh like it's no big deal. Like Greg's being ridiculous, and it just figures that's how he'd react. "I wasn't…it was just procedure, G. We apprehended the guy in a crowded place, sometimes things get a little messy."

Messy. Like that's supposed to make him feel better. Like Nick wasn't freaking out just two weeks ago when Greg was getting shot at. He thinks about throwing that in Nick's face, but he's got a shift to work and if he doesn't get out there soon Grissom will come looking for him.

"Just forget it," he says instead, not quite meeting Nick's gaze as he heads for the door.

The hand on his arm doesn't surprise him any more than the soft wait a second in that voice that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. And he doesn't really want to fight about this now, but he lets Nick pull him backwards anyway and sets his jaw in a defiant line.

"I know what I'm doing," Nick says, grip loosening just a little, but not enough to let Greg escape. "I used to be a cop, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you're not anymore. That's why we bring uniforms along with us, right? How many times have you told me that?"

As soon as he says it Nick grins, shaking his head and letting his hand trail up Greg's bicep to rest against the back of his neck. "Point taken. Look, it's not like I planned for it to go down the way it did. Everything just kind of happened, and when the guy tried to run I just went after him. I'm fine, G. Nobody got hurt."

"That's not the point," Greg answers. He resists the urge to lean back into the fingers stroking the scars at the top of his spine, suppressing a shiver at the feel of rough fabric against too-sensitive skin. He doesn't want to let it go, doesn't want to let Nick off that easily. He knows it's going to happen again, that it's part of the job, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. It's hard to stay mad when Nick's looking at him like that, though, especially when anyone could walk in on them. "Since when do you speak Spanish, anyway?"

Nick's hopeful smile shifts to a smirk, and when he leans in this time Greg doesn't bother trying to resist the urge to meet him halfway. Warm lips brush the skin just below his ear, sending a fresh shiver down his spine. "Since high school," Nick says, the words whispered against skin and it's bad enough that Greg's still got a whole shift to get through, but when Nick lowers his voice and whispers something in a language Greg doesn't understand he knows he's never going to make it through the next eight hours.

"What did you just say?"

"I said," Nick says, pausing long enough to press a kiss to the corner of Greg's mouth, "I'm fine. And when you get home I'll show you just how much."

Before Greg can answer Nick's kissing him, hot and hard and it's over way too fast, but even Greg knows better than to get caught making out in the locker room. So he pulls away reluctantly, hoping he doesn't look as flushed as he feels or Sara will never let him live it down. "That a promise?"

"A guarantee," Nick answers. Greg lets out a frustrated groan and lets himself out of the locker room, Nick's laughter following him into the hall. And he's still kind of tempted to kill Nick just for torturing him, but right now the whole kissing thing is sounding a whole lot more fun.