Title: When All is Said and Done

Rating: M


Pairings: Nick/Greg, established Warrick/Catherine, hinted pre-GSR

Disclaimer: I so don't own CSI. If only I did...

Summary: Greg's life took a hard right turn his last year of college. Now, well into his second year at the Las Vegas crime lab, it is about to take another. Will it be for the better or take a dive for the worst?


This story is a mix of a/u and cannon. There will also be times of OOC for the characters. One thing many of you will pick up on is that the cannon scenes used will not always fit in with the shows seasonal time line. This was intentional. I stretched the seasons, so season three runs from June 2002 through May of 2003 instead of September through May. Which means one season equals one full calender year, approximately.

The scene separations in each chapter can be a separation of either hours or days, depending on the chapter. You will pretty much know which it is as you read. This is a warningof the jumps that will take place.

Greg's house is identical to one found on a floor plans website which includes pictures. It's not imperative that you look, but it helps. The link is on my bio page.

Also, I want to give credit where credit is due. This was written with a very good friend, who helped me come up with ideas for this and put up with my whining. We even rp'd a scene in here, as my Grissom voice is rather weak, and she wrote a small section for me. So, Felena1971, I am co-dedicating this story to you. Also, to Jess, who read various scenes for me with the threat of food at stake (always a problem for a college student) and to Myriah, who's never even watched CSI but still read sections for me. To the brilliant Alyjude, who, with her blessing, allowed me to take inspiration from parts of her fabulous 'Jake' series from another fandom. Which is not to say this is based on her story, as it's not, but a few of the scenes are a reflection of her work. Finally, Austin, who was as much a help as anyone, though he will probably never read this. Love you little man.

I hope you all enjoy this story, which took quite a few months to write and interrupted my other stories in the process. This is complete so waiting for chapters won't go beyond weekly posts. Hopefully. This has been beta'd. Any mistakes left are my own. Oh, and later chapters will be longer.



December 1998/ April 1999

Greg strapped his board to the roof of his car and waved to a couple of his friends as they pulled out of the parking lot. Once he was sure the board was secure, he popped open the back door and grabbed out a pair of sweatpants and a zip up sweater. He hung them over the door and wiped himself down with a towel before tossing that into the backseat and pulling the sweatpants up over his wet suit. He was only an hour or so from home, given traffic, so he decided to forgo the beaches public showers and just take one when he got to his parents house.

He peeled out of the parking lot and onto the highway, taking the scenic route to San Francisco instead of detouring the extra half an hour back up towards the college. He blared his music and set the cruise control, allowing both feet to start tapping along to the heavy beat of the song as he drove.

Greg pulled up outside his parent's house about forty five minutes later and turned the car off, making sure to set the emergency break. He would have parked in the driveway, but both of his parents cars were out of the garage. He grabbed his duffel from the seat next to him and climbed out. Greg started up the stairs to the front door but paused to give the neighbor's cat, who was sitting on his mom's planter box, a once over, "Sorry Rex." He muttered as he unlocked the front door, "Left my allergy med's at the apartment."

He ignored the tabby cat's cry and went inside, stopping at his room to drop the bag before going upstairs to the main floor, "Hello? I'm home." He called out.

He didn't hear anything in reply, but he was sure his parents were home. They said they would be and the cars were pretty much an indication of that. He walked down to the living room, running his fingers over the soft needles of the Christmas tree as he passed it.

He didn't see his mom or dad on the deck so he turned back around and went up to the third floor. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked around, not seeing them in the 'play' room. They weren't out on that floor's patio either and he was about to turn around to go back downstairs when he heard a sob from the room his aunt and uncle used when they visited.

Concerned, as they usually didn't arrive until a week after he got home, he walked over to the door and tapped at it lightly. The crying stopped at his knock, but then the door flew open. His mom was standing there in jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled up into a haphazard ponytail and her face was streaked with tears, "Mom?" He asked, voice cracking with fear.

"Oh sweetie." She pulled him into her arms and rested her forehead against his collar bone, tears starting anew and soaking his jacket.

"Mom, what's going on?" He asked, patting her back, "It's, oh God, it's not nana or papa is it?"

"No, no, they're fine." Jan sniffed and pulled away to look up at her only son's face. She reached a hand up and brushed a still slightly damp curl off of his forehead, "It's Aunt Sabine and Uncle Rick." She stepped away from him and led him to one of the stools sitting in front of the arced bar, "There was a robbery...out in New York."

Greg stared at her, not fully comprehending what it was she was saying, "Mom?"

"The robbers, they didn't know that they were there. Your aunt and uncle, I'm afraid they didn't make it."

Greg tugged at his tie and stared up at the ceiling of the lawyers office. He wasn't sure why his parents had dragged him along to the meeting, but here he was. Not that it mattered much. His vacations were spent almost completely with his parents, as the few friends that he had, went home to their own parents and families.

"Greg?" Greg looked over at his mom, not lifting his head from the back of the chair, "You need to come in here, sweetie."

He sighed and stood up, straightening his jacket and smoothing down the polka-dotted tie his uncle had given him years ago. He followed his mom into the interior office and sat down in the seat she pointed too, which was oddly enough, the one next to his father in front of the desk. Dave reached over and squeezed his shoulder but didn't say anything. He hadn't said much of anything since his brother and sister-in-laws death two weeks prior.

"Well, Greg, I'll get right to it. Your aunt and uncle left you a considerable fortune. Both of the houses, the one in Las Vegas and the one in New York, as well as most of their monetary assets. They've also set up large trust funds for any future children you should have." Malcolm Warner looked at Greg over his horn-rim glasses and smiled, "They also stated that should you not have any children, the money from the trust funds, upon your death, is to be given to any charities of your choice."

Dave let out a soft laugh, "That's my brother. Always thinking ahead."

"Yes. It was a worry to him that Greg would not have kids, given his own lack of them and the fact you only had one child." Malcolm turned back to Greg, "The properties are yours to do with as you wish. Both homes are paid for in full and the Las Vegas property is being watched over by Sabine's sister and her husband."

"Why isn't Aunt Rayne getting the house?" Greg asked, "Or even Lauren?" His 'pseudo' cousin was their niece, even if it was on Aunt Sabine's side, and it didn't feel right that he was getting more than her.

"Sabine had talked to Rayne around the time she and Rick started working on their will. Rayne refused to take it and Lauren informed them that she didn't want such a large place." Malcolm straightened the papers in front of him and clasped his hands, "This was all very thought out and agonized over. Rayne and her daughter are getting what they wanted, plus a bit more than that so don't worry about them."

Greg looked down and bit his lip, "I don't want to keep the New York house. It'd just be too much. I mean, what would I need with two properties? Besides, they were killed there. I couldn't..." He took a deep breath and looked up at Malcolm, "I'm not sure about the Vegas house but I want to sell the townhouse."

Malcolm nodded, "I figured as much. The market in New York is incredibly high right now, so you can expect to garner at least a high six figure tag on it, if not more due to its location within the city."

"What do I have to do?"

Greg grunted as he hauled the last box to the elevator. It had taken his dad months to decide on when to empty his aunt and uncles bedroom and then they had to work around Greg's school schedule. His labs were done for the year, as most of the classes were prepping for the exams at the beginning of the month. He had studied his heart out over the weekend and decided that missing the extra study time to drive home and help his dad wouldn't hurt him. In fact, it was kind of like a nice mini-vacation, even if he was doing physical work. He was still wondering what prompted him to stay and take post-graduate courses for two years, but he had definitely decided that two was enough.

He punched the button for the first floor, needing to get to his room and shower. He had spilled his aunts perfume, a very flowery cologne, all over his shirt and shorts and his eyes were beginning to water from the smell. He stepped out of the elevator and went across the hall to his bedroom, stripping his shirt off in the process. He sneezed as it passed his head and went to throw it in the corner when his phone rang.

Confused, as his friends normally called his cell phone, he picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Hello, Gregory."

Greg frowned and scratched the bridge his nose, "Blythe?"

Blythe Stanfield had been his lab partner in biochemistry at the beginning of the year. She was a pretty girl, five foot seven in height with wavy, auburn hair and eyes that were an incredible hue of blue. She had extremely pale skin and an overabundance of freckles, but they just added to her attractiveness instead of detracting from it. She had left school and transferred to Atlanta, Georgia over winter break, or so his friend Damon said. The man had had a huge crush on her, so if anyone would know it would be him.

Blythe was also the only person to call him Gregory. It had annoyed the crap out of him the first few weeks of lab until he had just given up and ignored it. She also was the only one to subtly insult his hair and clothing styles, as well as his taste in music during the few study 'dates' they had had. It was during the first of those study dates that the two of them had gotten drunk off their asses, the only way at the time they figured they could handle being around one another outside of labs. It was also one of the few times Greg had actually downed alcohol. He still had no idea what happened that night, but when he awoke the following morning, the room had smelled like burning sage .

"Yes. I'm afraid I have some news for you."


A/N: So? What did you all think? Feel free to let me know! Love it? Hate it? All opinions welcome!