Caught by the Law - 17/24

Author: Daniela
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Pairing: Greg/Grissom
Rating: PG13
Category: Angst, Romance
Series/Sequel: Breaking the Ice
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I love them dearly.
Summary: Greg and Grissom go on a date.
Warning: Slash, M/M, Spoiler for "After the Show"
Feedback: Yes, please. It's the icing on my cake.
Released: March 2004
Revised: May 2020/June 2021
Word Count: 1760
Beta: None

"How did you find this place?" Greg picked up the menu. Oh. Good. Not too expensive.

"Mm?" Gil was engrossed in reading the menu.

"This restaurant is pretty far from our neighborhood, don't you think?"

"Well, I spotted the place recently, driving to a Crime Scene. The front looked nice, and I checked it out."

"Oh yeah?" Greg wasn't complaining about Gil's choice. The place looked for sure nice. They were sitting in a cozy corner; the surrounding people were almost shut out. Nobody paid attention to them. Though Gil's behavior was the one thing that didn't make him feel good about this place.

When Gil wasn't absorbed in reading the menu he was glancing around, observing everyone coming in or going out. The CSI who was famous for keeping most situations in perspective acted pretty irrational.

He's afraid to be seen with me, Greg mulled. That was kind of okay. This was their first date after all. I'm nervous too. Not only because Gil and him dating was a major step, but because a severe problem had turned up yesterday. He needed to tell Gil, but he didn't know how. A confusing and unexpected appearance that concerned them both. So, yeah, he was a bit antsy, but his nervousness was nothing compared to Gil's erratic restlessness. He was acting like... the fugitive, Dr. Richard Kimble. Right. That's it. As if we were on the run, in danger to be caught any second. Gee! What the hell, Gil? Can you stop already?

Gil granted him a half smile and then he was studying the menu once more, as if he settled for hiding behind the thing throughout the evening.

So what? Come down. No big deal. Greg struggled with the choices on the menu. He couldn't pick anything. Not only because he was annoyed with Gil's behavior though. It figures that just when things run smoothly the past is catching up with you.

The waiter approached them. "Are you ready to order?"

"Sure," Gil said, not minding Greg.

Greg picked the first thing on the menu to get rid of the busy-looking employee. When he caught Gil observing the other people again, he had it. "What's wrong, Gil?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Come on. I can see how uneasy you feel."

"I'm only tired and aside from that not used to go out."

"All right. Forget about it." Greg didn't want to start a fight and ruin the evening. They were here. Together. That's what counts. So, chill! "Let's enjoy the evening and talk about us." Oops! Not good.

Gil's expression turned cold; his lips were a thin line. "What's there to talk about?"

"Well, such as how did you fix your hearing problem?"

"What?" Gil barked. "How do you know about that?"

"Simply because your hearing did improve a lot. I remember you even overheard me telling Nick, I don't see anyone." He smiled, recalling the awkward moment at a Crime Scene on the day they had slept together for the first time.

Gil shrugged. "I had surgery half a year ago. It was a success. Right now, my hearing is fine."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"We weren't together back then."

Gee! "We are together?"

"That's not what I meant. We are not...," he broke off, cramping up.

Now or never! "We are not what?"

"Hello. That's a surprise." Sheriff Rory Atwater was standing in front of their table, smiling delighted.

Holy shit! Greg suppressed a hysteric giggle. "Good evening, sir." Sure! Politeness was the best way to save the day.

"Sheriff," Gil exhaled, entwining his fingers.

"Such a coincidence meeting you here, Gil. Do I know your friend?"

"I'm Greg Sanders," Greg got the drop on Gil. "I'm working at the Crime Lab."

The sheriff's eyes flashed. "Oh yes. I remember. You're the CSI trainee working that murder case with Catherine Willows."

"Right." Greg nodded. I like this man. He's not the same jerk as Sheriff Mobley was. A bit sneaky though.

Gil squared his shoulders. "Sometimes our team meet up outside work to talk shop. Brown and Stokes had plans to join us, but they had to cancel at the last minute. I didn't know that this restaurant is one of your favorite spots, too."

The corners of the sheriff's mouth twitched. "The food and the service are first-class. Unfortunately, I'm here alone. I don't know such appealing company to spend my evenings with."

Gee! That hit home. Greg was full of glee. Well deserved, Gil.

His secret lover cleared his throat. "If you like to join us..."

Sheriff Atwater shook his head. "No, thank you. I have already eaten. I'm on my way home. Though I appreciate the offer." The twinkle in his eyes proved that he wasn't fooled. He knew Gil's invitation wasn't genuine. "Keep enjoying your evening. See you." He granted Greg a polite nod and left.

"Do you wanna call Catherine?" Greg grumbled. His appetite for the rack of lamb he had ordered was gone.

"Excuse me?" Gil croaked, crumpling his napkin.

"I understood that this is a business meeting, not a date. So maybe Catherine wants to join us." Though he was pissed, he kept his voice down. Don't make this worse. Don't lose face. Be in control.

"I had to give him some explanation. I couldn't tell him the truth, could I?"

"Why not? Are you ashamed of me? For what reason? Because you're my boss or because I'm a man. Or is it because I'm much younger than you? Maybe I'm mistaken. Could be you're only ashamed because I'm not a suitable match for the famous and sophisticated Gil Grissom."

"Don't be silly. None of those bothers me. Yet our situation requires some finesse, and we shouldn't rush things."

"You know what? No need to rack your brains anymore." Greg stood up. "I've learned my lesson for tonight. That thing with us is off. I'm out of here."

Gil grabbed his hand. "Doesn't it matter I came here with you tonight...."

"You think I'm stupid? I know why you chose this restaurant. It's so far from our neighborhood, you hoped nobody would see us here together." He laughed. "Isn't life a bitch?"

Gil blushed. "You have to understand how difficult this is for me...."

"Oh, I get it." He shook off Gil's hand. "That's why I wanna go home."

"All right. Let's go and..."

"...have sex?" Greg snapped. "No way I'm sleeping with you tonight."

"Greg, please." Gil stood up and seized him by the arm.

Greg tore himself free and pushed Gil away. "Didn't you listen? No means no!" He grabbed his jacket and rushed out.

Gil dropped back in his seat, aware of the curious looks of the other costumers. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Hard to believe I screwed that up. Why wasn't I prepared for unforeseen events? As a CSI I should've known better.

The waiter approached him. "Your appetizers are ready, sir."

"I'm sorry but I have to leave. The check, please." The waiter didn't complain, though Gil caught a glimpse of amusement in his eyes. Did he overhear the whole conversation? So what? That doesn't matter, does it? He paid for food he hadn't eaten and left for home.

Driving out of the parking lot, he realized that the ruined evening was his fault alone. Greg had been right with his accusation. He had chosen the restaurant for its offside location. Well, I paid for my deceit, didn't I? Atwater is on to us, and I blew it with Greg. Again. I deserve to lose him. Stalled by red traffic lights, he had the time to realize one more thing. He didn't want to lose Greg. He had to fix the mess, had to try everything and more to make it up to him. He needed to prove that he wasn't ashamed, neither because of him, nor about their relationship. Even if he would ruin his career. The red light turned green, and he drove on. His head was spinning due to the mess he had created, as well as for the brainteaser to find a solution to win Greg back.

At home he rushed to the phone, dialing Greg's number. It rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Come on. Pick up. Please, Greggo.

At last he got a connection. "Sanders." Not with Greg though but an unknown male voice.

"Uh... Hello? G-Greg?" Gil said, gripping the receiver. What the hell? Who's this?

"Sorry, Greg's in the shower," the man with the smoky voice said. "Can I take a message?"

Gil broke the connection. For a whole minute, he stood frozen in the middle of his living room. "Well, that problem is solved. He didn't waste any time to find himself a new lover." He went to the bathroom then, brushing his teeth, looking at his reflection in the mirror. I'm old. What was I thinking? It's better this way. Better for Greg and for me. Nobody gets hurt. No? Why does my heart feel like it would burst any second then? Why do I feel this broken?

He scuffled to the bedroom, lying down. For a long time, he stared into the darkness. Who was that on the phone? Who did Greg pick up this quickly? Michael Andrews? No. I don't think so. I would have recognized his voice. Who then? Does it matter? Yes, it does matter. We had a fight, and he ran off to meet with another man. How could he do this to me? Doesn't he know how much he would hurt me with just moving on? Gil put his face into the pillow. He was trying to ignore the images running through his mind. Greg, delightfully naked, with another man, equally young and pretty. Kissing him. Making him come. Greg, smiling in bliss, because the new lover was much more potent than Gil. A better fit for the naughty and insatiable guy Greg was.

Gil groaned. Stop that. This's not what's happening. Don't torture yourself. The images didn't vanish though, were tormenting him like a brand biting into his flesh. Am I hurting that much because I'm in love with Greg? Can it be? He's eccentric, loud, annoying, a chatterbox, too young... Otherwise, he's smart, cute, funny, sexy, soft-hearted... for heaven's sake! He tossed and turned. Okay. Fine. I'm smitten. But does that matter anymore? Greg doesn't want me anymore, does he? I blew this and now I'm alone. Yeah. I had that coming. For such an educated man I was plain clueless if not even ignorant.

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