Title: Willing
Author: Angelise
Pairing: Gil/Warrick/Greg
Fandom: CSI
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: A glimpse at Greg's reaction to the baby's death in the episode, "Feeling the Heat."

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Gil dropped his briefcase on the floor, too mentally and physically exhausted to care about the scratches it made on his newly waxed living room floor. A week of 12 hour shifts, coupled with the worst heat wave to hit Las Vegas in the past five years, had taken its toll and all he could think about was grabbing a quick bite to eat and submerging himself in a cold tub of water.

"Wonder if Greg or Warrick fixed lunch?" An hour before leaving work, Gil had called and roused his young lovers from their Saturday morning nap, taking only enough time to inform them of his imminent arrival and request that they fix a light lunch for them to share.

Entering the kitchen, Gil immediately detected a current of hot air invading the coolness of the room. "I thought Warrick fixed that broken latch." Finding the door to the rear patio ajar, he made a mental note to call a proper locksmith. "When you want the job done right...." He started to close the door but a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he stepped outside to investigate. His astute gaze immediately discovered Greg curled up in the corner of the new swing he'd insisted they add to the patio.

"What in the world is he doing out here? It's so hot, you can hardly breathe." Moving closer to the swing, Gil reached out a hand to shake Greg awake and was startled to find tears flowing down the young man's cheeks. "Greg?"

Gil took a seat on the swing, his eyes opening wide with surprise when Greg immediately moved into his arms and hid his face in the crook of his neck. He patted Greg on the back and waited patiently for him to reveal the cause of his distress. When no explanation was forthcoming, he carded his fingers through Greg's hair and gently tugged his head away from its hiding place.

"Greg." Refusing to acknowledge how deeply the tears affected him, Gil cleared his throat and asked gruffly, "Why the sad face? Did Warrick....?"

"No, it's not Warrick. He's gone grocery shopping. We're out of beer." Greg scrubbed the tears from his face before laying his head back on Gil's shoulder, his gaze fixed in the distance. "The Winston baby, how...."

Unconsciously rubbing his cheek against Greg's hair, Gil interrupted him with an explanation. "The temperature in the car was 145 degrees and when the human body is exposed to that type of heat...."

Twisting around, Greg halted his words by pressing fingertips to his lips. "No. That's not what I'm asking."

Greg leaned forward and captured his mouth in a slow, tender kiss before turning back around and snuggling deeper in his arms. "What I can't understand is how they could murder such a precious baby? I know they thought he had this incurable disease and that they had already suffered the loss of one child to that disease. But how could they, without knowing for sure, without knowing the final results of the lab test, put him to death?"

Tears once again flowed from Greg's eyes. "Yeah, so maybe they couldn't deal with another sick baby, couldn't go through that kind of pain again. But to kill him? To just lock him in that hot car and let him die? How could they do that? How?"

Gil watched in confusion when Greg stood up abruptly and walked to the edge of the patio. The young man clutched the corner support beam as if it was the only thing keeping him upright. "If they didn't want him, why didn't they put him up for adoption? There are thousands of couples that would have been more than willing to take him off their hands." Greg bowed his head and whispered so quietly Gil had to strain to hear, "Thousands of us."

Gil joined his lover, sliding his arms around Greg's slim waist and pulling him away from the wooden beam he was gripping. "Greg?" He slipped a hand beneath the man's damp t-shirt and opened it wide over his bare chest. "Us?"

A kiss anointed the hollow at the base of his throat before his query was answered.

"I guess it probably sounds stupid to you but ever since I can remember I've always wanted to be a father. Wanted to have kids. My dad was so great, he loved me so much, made growing up so much fun. It made me want to be just like him. Be a dad."

"Greg." Gil gripped his lover's chin and forced him to look up. "Children have never been a part of our future. The three of us adopting a child?"

"Why? Why can't we adopt?" Greg jerked his chin free and turned so that his back was to Gil again. Sighing, he held up a hand. "Don't. I know all the arguments. Believe me, I know exactly what you're going to say, what Warrick would say."

Moving to stand in front of Greg, Gil stood silent for several minutes, closely watching the emotions chase across the younger man's expressive face. Adoption was not an option. They had discussed this very subject during the early months of their relationship. Unfortunately, Greg had never confessed his true thoughts on the matter.

Gil mentally shook his head. Even knowing his young lover's feelings, he could still not envision an appropriate time in the future that would allow for the adoption of a child. Their professions, their work schedules, their very relationship, adding a child to the equation did not make sense.

Another dejected sigh weighted the simmering heat surrounding them. Gil frowned. A child of their own was not an option at present. That did not mean . . . .

Nodding to himself, he pulled out his cellphone and punched in a familiar number.

"Catherine? It's Gil. Yes, I know what time it is. Yes, I know you left the same time I did. Catherine, I seem to remember you mentioning something about being unable to take Lindsey to the zoo to see the new baby elephant. That conference in Colorado you're scheduled to attend was the reason, I believe." He cupped the side of Greg's face and brushed a thumb across his lips. "If you don't object, I know a certain trio of men who would be more than happy to take her in your stead."

Greg turned his head and kissed the palm of his hand, whispering softly, "I love you."

Gil shifted his hand and circled the back of Greg's neck, pulling him to his side. "When should we pick her up?"

The end

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