Title: Thursday…
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1240
Pairings: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes and the gang.
Warnings: AU Fluff…as always!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments, which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N: This is what the ‘House’ comms call a crack!fic. It’s all dialogue, and the people talking are not identified, although some are obvious, it's for you to decide who you think is saying what...although it doesn't matter! I had it in mind who I thought was speaking when I wrote it (ages ago), but it’s just a bit of fun (I hope), no sweat! (Stokesgirl is going to lurve this!!)

“Greg, move to the chair over there, please.”

“What? Why?”

“When your supervisor, your boss, says, ‘move’, you should say, ‘Yes, sir, how far?”

“I should? Whose rule is that?”

“Mine; now if you please…I want to sit next to the love of my life. Close your mouth Nicky, it’s not a good look on you.”

“Have you been doing any experiments that have gone wrong? Are you a cloned Grissom?”

“No, neither of those applies.”

“Then why…I mean I’ve been ’the love of your life’ for some time now…so why today?”

“Why does everyone ask so many questions?”

“Because we’re CSI’s and you’ve trained us to do it…and don’t answer a question of mine with a question of your own, because it’s rude.”

“Well; if you’re going to be horrible about it I’ll move.”

“No. No need to do that. But why today?”

“Because it’s Thursday.”

“Okay. Right. Thursday. I should’ve guessed.”

“I don’t want you to guess; it undoes all the work I've done about evidence gathering and interpretation, and facts; no guesswork involved.”

“Okay. Evidence is: after three years, or thereabouts, of being together, you, for the first time, actually move another member of the team so that you can sit down beside me. When questioned you state it’s ‘because it’s Thursday’. What is significant about this Thursday, that didn’t apply to all the other Thursdays? It’s not an anniversary of any sort. It’s not a date that’s indelibly imprinted on my brain. So?

“It’s a Thursday - that is the major fact in this case.”

“A Thursday?”

“Yes.”

“Man, you are going to have to expand on that answer…there’s no way I can come up with a reason, based on ‘Thursday’.”

“Oh, how quickly love dies.”

“For goodness sake get on with it…I’m overdosing on ‘lurve’ here.”

“You’re only jealous that we’ve each found our perfect love; you’ve never found it despite a long search.”

“God, I’m beginning to subscribe to the accident theory…maybe some sort of aneurism; cloning wouldn’t apply…because the clone would be the same as normal…and this is not normal.”

“How do you know that this isn’t my norm and my gruff exterior and emotionless, work persona is the anomaly?”

“Now I’m hurt that even you, Nicky, find that so funny.”

“Don’t be hurt, babe, I’m only teasing.”

“Oh. My. God. You call him ‘babe’?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Have I time to list the reasons…Gilbert Grissom…a ‘babe’…anyone’s ‘babe’. He’s too old and ornery…”

“I am not ‘ornery’!”

“He’s not ‘ornery’!”

“Yeah…like I believe either of you…come on dish the dirt…if Gil is ‘babe’ what is Nicky? ‘Sweetheart’? ‘Darling’? ‘Brown eyes’?

“All of those and more…”

“Oh, purleezze…too much information…way too much.”

“But she asked.”

“I find this so difficult. You know finding out you guys were gay was enough of a shock…but to find out that you’re all…soppy…romantic…it’s very disturbing.”

“Now I’m at a loss; how, exactly do you think we behave behind closed doors? Did you think Nick calls me Gris? That I order him around and tell him what to do? What’s wrong with being romantic?”

“Nothing…I think it’s just the shock that you do act like…well…’normal’…I guess.”

“Uh, uh…I think you should stop before you hang yourself.”

“Good advice. But when has Catherine ever taken advice?”

“Now, now, play nicely…or I’ll have to spank you and put you to bed without any…milk….."

“This is TOO much…you don’t…do you…no…please tell me you don’t.”

“What we do in the privacy of our...."

“You DO?”

“Did I say that?”

“It was implicit in your response.”

“Now that is a leap in interpretation of the evidence.”

“If you prefer it’s the sin of omission – you’re a lapsed Catholic – you understand that concept.”

“I do, but still feel that you have insufficient data to conclude that either Nick or I indulge in what could be considered sadomasochistic behaviour.”

“Additionally, you’ve been very friendly with Lady Heather for a number of years, and her…business…has a clearly defined BDSM role in the underbelly of Las Vegas society.”

“Good lord, that pronouncement clearly appears to be rehearsed and almost staged; have you just been waiting for the right time to say it?”

“Who’s taking interpretive leaps now?”

“So it’s perfectly in order for you to make illogical and random statements but wrong for me to do so?”

“Not at all; as long as I can, so may you.”

“But by lowering myself to your level I’m admitting the veracity of your argument.”

“You said it.”

“Gil…babe…why Thursday?”

“Because…it was a Thursday when we first kissed, and I have decided that for that reason we should treat each Thursday as special and remember that wonderful day. What do you think?”

“I think that’s the soppiest romantic thing I've ever heard, and I feel sick.”

“I think your reputation is in tatters.”

“I think that’s a ruse to deflect from the fact that you do frequent Lady Heather’s as a twosome…and that despite what we all may think that you, Grissom, are the subordinate and you Nick, by default, are the Dominant.”

“Have you got a death wish, Greg?”

“Not at all…I was just doing a little interpretation of my own.”

“They know nothing babe, it’s all conjecture.”

“Are you certain…Sir?”

“Yes, don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about it.”

“You are joking now, right?”

“Joking?”

“Joking?”

“Oh, come on there’s no way that Nick…Nicky…would…well there’s no way.”

“There isn’t?”

“Stop looking inscrutable and deny this.”

“I look ‘inscrutable’? Wow, that’s a look I've been after for years.”

“Not you, him.”

“Oh, my bad.”

“Should I tell them?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fair enough.”

“So do we get to celebrate Saturdays…because it was a Saturday when we first…

“…did it?”

“Dated.”

“There’s also Wednesdays, because it was a Wednesday when we first….”

“…did it?”

“Said, ‘I love you’.”

“Mondays”

“You did it?”

“Told you guys.”

“Fridays…I love Fridays. Do you remember the first time…”

“Oh for God’s sake, you did it on a Friday for the first time?”

“We went up Lake Mead and took a boat out.”

“That only leaves Tuesday and Sunday, so come on…..”

“Tuesday….asn’t it a Tuesday when we told your parents and got their blessing?”

“It was, yeah, that was a good day and Sunday…who could forget that first Sunday?”

“I know I was remembering that just the other day…and god how sore we both were?”

“Please don’t.”

“I could hardly walk for several days and you weren’t much better.”

“I can’t bear this.”

“No, you didn’t, both of you?”

“Yeah, it was great, I hadn’t done it for years.”

“Nor me.”

“What do they say…oh, I know, you never forget the feeling of the throbbing body between your legs.”

“Look; I really do feel ill now.”

“How true…it was incredible…I’m glad we’ve kept it up, it’s got easier as we’ve got used to it again...we don’t get so sore any more.”

“What?”

“That was just TOO MUCH INFORMATION!”

“Really? But I thought you all wanted to know when we actually first did it?”

“Not me, oh no, not me.”

“Nor me, that’s gross, man.”

“Well at least we know it was a Sunday.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“We were thinking of having a sort of party, inviting you guys to come with us.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Riding; we get a couple of horses and go exploring…why, what did you think we were talking about……….?”

The End