Title: The Medallion- Part 1
Pairing: Nick/ Greg friendship, preslash, may enter slash territory
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm making no money, yadda yadda. Consider me disclaimed.
A/N: So I wrote this off a plot bunny I've been thinking of for a while. Don't worry loyal readers, I'll get back to the Unburdening. I've been suffering writer's block/ apathy for a few weeks and wrote this. Originally intended it to be a oneshot, but it'll be more like 3 I think. It was getting long and late, which is my excuse for starting another multipart story. Wrote this listening to Sigur Ros. Frankly, I don't see what Eric S. does, but hey, to each his own. Contains slashy undertones at the very least, so I guess if you can't stand that then don't read. However, I encourage those who've never tried slash to broaden their boundaries, if not here, then with someone who can do it well, like geekwriter143.
Greg stifled a yawn as he got ready to shut his locker and head home that morning. On a whim, he took out the medallion which had been sitting on the top shelf for the past few weeks. He ran his finger over the engraved face, feeling the contrast between the cold metal and the deep grooves. The date read August 1, 1995. He smiled slightly. So much had happened since then. He went to replace it in its usual spot, when it slipped in his grasp and fell on the floor with a clatter where it immediately rolled away towards Nick, who was dead on his feet and looked like he was contemplating the couch in the break room.
"Shit," Greg said and moved to chase after it.
"Oh, hey Man, let me grab that for you," Nick said and stooped to grab the large coin, not noticing Greg's discomfort. Greg stood there, his heart beating strongly in his chest, hoping that his friend would hand it over without giving it any thought.
No such luck. Nick turned it over in his hand, the metal gleaming dully in the dim light light. The lines on his face deepened like they tended to do when he was deep in thought.
Shit, shit, shit, stupid Greg thought. He'd effectively hidden his secret for more than 10 years only to ruin it one random morning from reckless carelessness. He'd never wanted it out to the rest of the team, except for Grissom who had to know.
"Greg, this is a sobriety medallion."
Greg sighed and slammed shut his locker, before turning to lean against the row of lockers, the dial digging into his back. He tilted his head up to the ceiling, and said "Yup."
"With your name on it."
"Gee, Nick, with those investigative skills, you should go into law enforcement."
"Hey, no need to get snarky on me. We don't need another Hodges. I was just making a simple observation. N-A. Stands for narcotics anonymous, right?"
Greg chanced a look at Nick, who looked as always put together in a long sleeved blue shirt and black jeans. Seeing frank curiosity on his colleague's face, Greg realized he wasn't going to get out of this one without a lengthy explanation. He let out another deep sigh.
"Yeah, yeah you're right." He smiled a little ruefully. "I'm not going to squeak by without telling you about this, am I?"
"'Fraid not, Greggo."
Greg shrugged. Nick had been even more elusive this past year than before. Greg had seen him only twice outside of work since his recovery, once at a barbecue Catherine had hosted to celebrate the team reuniting, which didn't count since it was work related. He decided some quality time with his friend would more than make up for the humiliation he'd have to endure by revealing his past. He had no hopes for anything more than simple friendship, since even if Nick had once been interested, now didn't seem like it would be a good time to start anything.
"I'll tell you all about it over sausage and eggs, Nicky."
"Only if you're payin', G. Rick emptied my pockets on that last case."
Greg grinned and saw his expression echoed in the older man's face. Nick's smile was much gentler, a little sad around the edges, but Greg would take it. For now.
"Lead the way, Stokes."