Grasshoppers in Chocolate - 24/24

Author: Daniela
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Pairing: Greg/Grissom
Rating: PG13
Category: Romance, Fluff
Series/Sequel: Breaking the Ice
Summary: The grasshopper becomes the master.
Warning: Slash, M/M
Disclaimers: I don't own them, but I love them dearly.
Feedback: Yes, please. It's the icing on my cake.
Released: October 2009
Revised: November 2021
Beta: murgy31
Word Count: 3004

It was his first day at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. The young man gazed at the building in front of him in wonder. A hypermodern complex, bright and shiny, made of glass and steel. Inside DNA tests were done in minutes today, but sadly, as fast were committed crimes. This Lab had an excellent reputation; it was the number one in the United States. Tom was impressed as well as intimidated. Would he fit in or fail? He hadn't just graduated but had only one year of experience. Well then! A bit flustered he went through the main entrance. The security protocol cost him a couple of minutes. But then he was allowed to enter the sanctuary - the lab. Sheesh! They had fantastic equipment and he had heard only the best of the best were working here.

"Excuse me," he addressed an older man with grayish hair and a blue work coat. "I'm looking for Greg Sanders."

"Really, pretty boy?" The man eyeballed him. "Beware that he's not looking for you."


"Never mind. His office is down there and then to the left. Just follow the noise." The man rushed on, chuckling.

"Thank you!" Tom called after him. "Strange people around here," he then mumbled to himself. A few moments later he pounded at the door labeled, Greg Sanders, supervisor, to drown the loud music roaring behind the glass walls.

The music broke off. "Come on in!" a cheery voice asked him to enter.

This is it. He gulped and opened the door. "Hello, I'm the new lab tech, Tom Maxwell."

"Hello, Tom, I've been expecting you." The new boss had an unfamiliar look for his age, his sandy hair was standing straight up including dyed stripes in blue, the colorful shirt he was wearing was something to get used to as well. "Welcome to forensics."

"Thank you."

"Take a seat." Sanders fetched a glass with strange looking things inside and offered it to him. "Grasshopper in chocolate?"

Tom blinked. "N-No."

"Come on. They taste great."

"I don't think so."

Sanders laughed. "Me neither. Just a welcome joke."

Tom smiled shyly and inspected the office that was cramped with strange stuff. A pig's head in a glass, various coins in frames, a surfing board, a scuba diving suit, a chessboard, bunches of CDs, a coffee machine surrounded by bags labeled Blue Hawaiian, and magazines, lots and lots of magazines. They flooded every place not occupied by anything else. The desk was decorated with a set of origami figures and a snapshot of Sanders and a much older man, riding a rollercoaster, screaming hysterically.

"Your father looks nice."

"That's my boyfriend." Sanders put a grasshopper in his mouth and chewed it crunchingly.

"Oh." Tom flushed. "Sorry."

"No harm done."

"Is this a bug?" Tom pointed at one origami figure.

"An ant," Sanders explained, and then moved the conversation to professional matters, telling Tom about the lab, the people working here, the procedure for handling the evidence.

Tom nodded from time to time, relaxing. Having a boss who ate grasshoppers, wore blue hair, and was gay, was somehow comforting.

The door opened and a pretty blonde at Sanders' age looked in. "Hey, Greg, do you need something? I noticed the silence."

"Perfect timing, Riley. This is Tom, our new guy in the lab. Would you like to show him around?"

"Sure. Come on, Tom. You're lucky it's me and not Hodges."

"Huh?" Tom stumbled to his feet.

"See you, Tom." Sanders turned the music back on.

"Thank you, sir!" Tom yelled over the deafening noise.

"We're not that formal here, Tom," Riley said, walking down the hallway. "You can call him Greg."

"All right."

"That went well, don't you think?" Greg addressed the framed snapshot on his desk. "He even called me sir." In the beat of the music, Greg continued to do his paperwork for an hour, until Hodges strolled in. Greg turned the music down.

"Pretty boy was already here, I assume?" He glanced at the glass. "Did he take your offer?"

"Stop being a pain in the ass," Greg said kindly, stretching his arms and legs.

"That's like asking me to stop being the best man in the lab."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Doesn't it hurt to be that arrogant?"

"Not at all." Hodges slumped into the chair in front of the desk. "Is the bug man coming to go out celebrating with you?"

"Sure he is."

"Ready to Rock'N'Roll, Greggo?"

"You can bet, David." Greg pointed at the glass pane behind Hodges.

Gil was standing in the hallway, signing. Black Flag at this level? Are you nuts?

Hey, babe, are you ready to party? Greg signed back.

Gil entered the office. "The lab appears empty. Where's everyone?"

"Somewhere." Greg shrugged. "I think."

"Comforting," Gil replied, shaking his head. "Hey, David."

"I hate when you're signing," Hodges said, pouting. "I don't understand a thing."

"That's the point of the matter, isn't it?" Gil patted his shoulder.

Hodges laughed. He always liked for Gil to visit. He often spoke his mind how much he missed him.

Gil turned the music off. "Sorry, Greg, but I'm not feeling that well. Let's celebrate at home, okay?"

Greg cleaned his desk. "No problem, Gris. It's even better to celebrate in private, giving me the opportunity to make you squeal properly in thought of the event."

"Let's see who will be the one squealing," Gil deadpanned.

"Yes, master."

"Tell me more," Hodges said, smirking.

"No!" said the couple in sync.

The science pair strolled down the hallway.

Gil noticed Riley and Tom in one of the lab rooms. "I see you hired a new guy."

"I had to. We're swamped with murder cases."

Gil nodded. "He looks nice..."

"Yeah," Greg agreed, repressing a smile.

"...and way too young to have any experience," Gil noted, still the critic.

"Oh, yeah? You said that about me, too," Greg remembered. "So, don't jump to conclusions."

"What? How do you know that?" Gil said, looking stunned.

"I overheard you and Catherine gossiping."

Gil smiled. "You chased after me right from the start, did you?"


Tom turned his attention from Riley to the two men walking by. He recognized the older man from the picture on Sanders' desk. His new boss snorted with laughter. "Is this Greg's boyfriend?" Tom wondered.

Riley nodded. "Gil Grissom, our former supervisor. He's retired."

"He was Greg's boss?"

"Yeah, and they are very much in love, so don't get any ideas."

"I'm not gay," Tom clarified, raking through his freshly washed mane.

"Really? The girls around will be glad to hear that."

"How was your first day as the boss?" Gil fastened his seat belt.

"All things considered good. No disasters so far." Greg pulled out of the parking lot. "Where have you been today?"

"Warrick's grave."

"I see." Greg patted Gil's hand. "It's unbelievable it has been fifteen years."

"It is. I still miss him."

"Me too." Greg sighed. "I miss all our friends."

Gil fetched his cell. "That reminds me. Nick sent a message. Shall I read it to you?"


Hey guys!
How are you?
Are you celebrating?
Congratulations, Greg. I always knew you could make it.
We're fine. Today, we bought a new house. It's perfect. Sara is excited to make it our home.
We have three bedrooms now, which is good, because Daniel is growing fast and likes to make a mess.
He reminds me of you, Greg.

Gil interrupted the reading. "Who's Daniel's father actually?"

"Rather me than you," Greg quipped. He made that joke in private only. Sara's happiness with Nick was too fragile to tease her in this matter.

"Only you pretended to chase after her," Gil countered and continued reading.

Sorry, we couldn't make it for the big event, but we're stressed out at work, and you know, Sara wouldn't leave any unfinished business.
We hope to see you soon.

Take care


"Sounds as if they're fine," Greg decided, knowing how much Sara's happiness mattered to Gil.

"I hope so," Gil said, and put his cell away. "You'll find more messages and greetings at home. I printed them out for you."

"Is one from Michael?"

"Why certainly! And he's doing fine, too. He mentioned a new stunning boyfriend. "

"That's great."

"Sure." Gil cleared his throat. "Isn't it sad we never had children like Julie and Daniel? That we are the last of our families?"

"Sometimes. Though not as sad as a life without you would have been." He rubbed Gil's knee. "Also, we can do whatever we want wherever we want - like a quickie in the car?"

"As tempting as this sounds, I'm pretty tired." Gil sighed. "Well, I'm getting old."

"Never ever. Just... relax. At home I'll make you feel younger in no time."

Gil snorted. "Silly boy." Years had gone by since Greg had stopped complaining to be called a boy by Gil, had accepted it as a particular term of endearment.

They arrived at a beautiful, two-storied house in the suburbs of Las Vegas, which they had bought by Gil's retirement, and had become their comfy haven since.

Greg swung the door open and switched the light on.

"Surprise!!!" A bunch of people, who had hidden behind the furniture, jumped up.

Greg stumbled a step back, recognizing Catherine, Jim, Dr. Robbins, Dennis, and David Phillips. His long-time friends cheered and hugged him one by one.

Gil laughed with glee. "We got you, didn't we?" He enjoyed seeing his love completely baffled on this important day. He had planned the surprise for a long time, hiding the arrangements until the final second.

"Still the secret keeper, are you, Gil?" Greg teased, overwhelmed.

"Sure," Gil agreed. "Though it wasn't that hard to keep, having you busy with becoming supervisor."

Their friends chatted all in a tumble, making joyous noise, starting to party.

Just now, Greg noticed a guest, he hadn't expected at all. "Dr. Gerard! You here?"

The incredibly old man in a wheelchair shrugged. It was obvious he hadn't much strength left. "I hope you don't push me out into the night."

"No, of course not. It's an honor. I'm just surprised that Gil had..."

"...forgiven me?"

"There was nothing to forgive," Gil interfered, and turned to the bar. "You did your job as I did mine."

A rosy glimmer graced Gerard's paper-thin cheeks. "I couldn't have said it better."

"Certainly not. I was your best student, remember?" Gil filled the glasses. "Drinks all around!"

"Only orange juice for me," Jim said and nobody lost a word about it. Since he had gotten involved again, he had stayed sober.

"For me, too." Catherine kissed Jim on the cheek. Ecklie's retirement and her move to the dayshift had triggered a change in their relationship in the most mysterious ways.

Greg leaned into Gil. "Don't you think it's still a miracle that these two are a couple?"

"Compared to us or the world?" Gil whispered back, wriggling his eyebrows.

Greg chuckled.

"Stop gossiping," Catherine called on them. "Rather start opening your presents."

"Presents!" Greg rushed to the table of boxes and ripped the first one open. "A first edition of Edgar Allan Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart. Wow!"

Gil read the attached card. "Bugs made them do it. Witty. Your idea, Catherine?"

"In remembrance of you and Greg going to this entomology convention in San Francisco..."

"I see."

"We did it much earlier," Greg revealed, unblushing.

"Will you shut up." Gil glared at him.

"Why, no, because it was never the bug's fault. Nick helped me change the reservations for the hotel in San Francisco which caused the room trouble."

"I know," Gil threw in, taking a snack from the plated appetizers.

"What?" Greg squeaked. "Since when?"

"The day after our trip."

"Are you kidding me? The whole time I felt guilty because I thought I played you!"


"How? Who snitched on us?"

"Who do you think? Hodges couldn't wait to tell me he overheard you and Nick plotting."

Greg snorted. "The guy is a pain in the ass."

"As far as it isn't yours."


"Well, I'm serious." Gil kissed him on the lips.

Greg returned the kiss, then he grabbed a couple of cheese appetizers off a plate and threw them playfully into the air. He caught the pieces of food one after another and chewed them down.

"You were the one I saw with the dice in the Havilland murder case, weren't you?" Gerard addressed Greg, looking thoughtful.

Gil frowned. "What do you mean?"

Greg gulped. Gee! I'm almost fifty years old. "You remember that? After all those years?"

Gerard smiled smugly. "Certainly. I just rushed into the lab that day, angry and annoyed, eager to find something to get into Gil's way, and there you were, messing with the evidence."

"But why... why didn't you use my mistake to your advantage?" Greg said, intrigued.

"I always liked Gil," Gerard replied, then coughed. He recovered shortly. "I didn't want to hurt him personally, only professionally. Shortly after this incident I observed you and Gil together and I - well - I just knew."

"You knew what?" Gil croaked, bewildered.

"That he meant more to you than any other lab boy."

Their friends stopped chatting and listened fascinated.

"That's why I couldn't do it," Gerard concluded, rubbing his gnarly hands.

"Thank you," Greg said, supplying himself with more food.

Gil nudged him. "What did you do?"

"I threw a couple of dice. That's it."

"That's it?" Gil snapped. "Were you out of your mind? You could have ruined everything!"

"This happened twenty years ago!" Greg snapped back. "Did you forget I helped you solving this particular case by having all those magazines about Tom Havilland?"

Gerard raised a mocking eyebrow at Gil. "I see. You wouldn't have stood a chance without him, huh?"

"I admit I was a silly lab boy in those days," Greg granted the assembled listeners. "I did a lot of stupid things."

"Like what?" Gil asked, looking amused now.

"Messing up in the field, telling Sara first, dancing around with evidence on my head..."

"I saw that." Gil leaned into Greg.

"...putting markers up my nose, letting you drink my coffee, sending you silly code messages, rocking in the lab. All that to make you notice me."

"I always noticed you." Gil put a second kiss on his lips, a delightfully serious one. "I still do."

"Yeah, me too," Greg whispered, then parted gently from his beloved. He turned to their hushed and gaping friends. "Hey, this is a party, isn't it? Why the long faces?"

Everyone burst out laughing and started chatting again. David Phillips put some music on. Greg and Gil continued to open the boxes, unwrapping plenty of useless knickknacks. They had a ball anyway.

"Can I have this dance?" Dennis approached Greg.

"Couldn't you have brought your own boyfriend?" Gil shook his head, feigning outrage. "He's taken."

"Says who?" Dennis joked with a wink in his eye.

Greg laughed and took him by the hand. "Come on. Don't listen to the old man."

"Hey!" Gil backfired. "I'll show you who is old..."

Gerard snorted. "Please, don't." For a while he and Gil watched the younger generation dancing to something which they called music.

"Did he really do all those things?" Gerard asked doubtfully.

"Oh yes," Gil fessed up. "Those are only the tip of the iceberg though."

"It's a miracle he became supervisor."

"You don't say."

"He had a good teacher, hadn't he?"

"I had a good teacher," Gil returned the compliment. He watched his love dancing along until a loud hammering at the door interrupted them.

Greg rushed to the door and tore it open. Wendy and David Hodges beamed at him.

"Sorry," Wendy said, "we couldn't find a sitter."

"I don't think you're invited," Greg joked, addressing Hodges.

Hodges turned to Wendy. "I told you so."

Wendy gave him a push. "Get in."

Greg hugged her. "How do you bear up with this guy?"

"I have no idea," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"It's my kissing skills," Hodges quipped.

"Possibly," she pursued the banter.

"Have a drink with that discussion," Greg said, and led them to the bar. Adequately supplied, the sarcastic couple came over to the table that was flooded with empty boxes and wrapping paper.

Hodges handed Gil a colorful envelope. "I found this in front of your door."

"Thank you." Gil ripped the letter open. Inside was a card with Office Love printed on the front. Only one sentence was written on the inside.

"After all your judgment was to the point," Gil read, and chuckled.

"Who's it from?" Hodges wondered as nosy as always.

"A secret admirer."

Their friends had left. The house breathed in soothing silence. Only Greg and Gil created peculiar and pleased noises.

"That was one of the best days ever," Greg honored his lover in the privacy of their bedroom.

"Nothing is too much for my grasshopper."

Greg licked his lips. "Shall I fetch the chocolate?"

"Is that a dare?"


"Well, the game is on." Slowly, he and Greg did all the things they liked and enjoyed, and which they had perfected over the years, making this day downright glorious.

"I'm impressed," Gil mumbled, reveling in the aftermath.

"That's what I wanted to hear for twenty-five years."

"Did you?"

"Yes, master."

"Good boy." Gil smirked, then put his shorts on and went to the bathroom.

Greg snuggled into the cushions and listened to the water running. "Did I really impress you?"

"You always do." Gil came back with his shorts bulging in the front.

"Not bad for an old man," Greg cheered and slid his hand inside the shorts. "But... what... what's this?" He pulled a piece of paper out.

"My gift for you."

Greg glowed. "What is it?"

"Open it."

Greg tore the envelope open and found two tickets. He blinked. "A romantic holiday in Hawaii."

"I hope you like...."

"What don't you know!"


CSI Stories