Authors Note: Just a fun glimpse of "Life With Greg & Nick." My only claim of ownership is my own personal love of coffee & music...that and my adoration for two particular CSI Characters. One Shot. Slash Inferred.
Slowly and with as little movement as possible, he untangled his feet from the sheets. Just as gently, he placed both feet on the floor and gave his toes a good curl. It was then, that Greg Sanders realized he was missing a sock. One foot was warm and the other, well...it now felt the startling coolness of the wood floor beneath it. As he inhaled sharply, Greg thought for a split second to search for the missing sock. However, he decided less movement and with as little noise as possible, was the best course of action.
Like a child in the wee hours of a Christmas morn, Greg slowly padded out of the room. "I can be stealth..." he thought to himself as he tugged up the waitband of his penguin-covered boxers.
Ever so gently, Greg closed the door, moving the latch a millimeter at a time. "Ninja skills, Sanders...Ninja skills," Greg silently complimented himself. He then continued his quiet padding into the next room. There, he curled his toes once more and momentarily cursed himself for not retrieving his lost sock. "One set of warm toesies is better than two sets of cold!" He consolled himself with final resolve.
Greg took some time to survey the shelves before making a decision. Gingerly, he pulled out the T-Rex album and with tender reverence, removed the vinyl from its sleeve. "Why, Mr. Bolan, so nice of you to join me for breakfast," Greg whispered with a grin.
With as much care as he would give a ticking bomb...or a crucial piece of case-breaking evidence...Greg placed the album onto the stereo. He plugged in the headphones and cupped them over his ears. With a joyful smile, Greg slowly set the needle down on the spinning black disc.
The first guitar chord deeply reverberated through Greg Sanders' body. And then, with a wail matching that of Marc Bolan, his body suddenly appeared to have been jump-started to life.
"Friends say it's fine. Friends say it's good.
Everybody says it's just like Rock-N-Roll..."
Greg's head quickly found the beat and he nodded away, lips pursed into a happy grin. He moved on into the kitchen, the curl of the headphone's chord stretching out behind him.
The song coursed through Greg. Each chord, lyric and shake of the tambourine seemed to be flowing through his veins, animating his limbs and changing the very beat of his heart.
"Babe I'm gonna be your man..."
Greg sang along as he opened a bag of coffee grounds. He lifted the bag under his nose and took in the scent. Coffee and Music. Two of his great loves. He sighed blissfully.
"..it's plain to see you were meant for me, yeah,
I'm your toy, your 20th Century Boy..."
Greg sang even louder, for now...the song was in full control. T-Rex had grabbed his soul and he was along for the ride.
Greg Sanders was dancing in the kitchen with one sock on.
It was an oversight. Unfortunatly, it was not the first time.
The first guitar chord deeply reverberated through Nicholas Stokes' body. And then, hearing a wail matching that of Marc Bolan, his body suddenly appeared to have been jump-started to life.
Groaning, he kicked away the tangle of sheets. A lone sock fell to the floor and Nick kicked that aside, too. He slowly stood, then stumbled across the wood floor, which felt cold beneath his bare feet.
Curses slithered between his teeth, as Nick bent to pick up a pair of crumpled Levis that lay on the floor. He quickly pulled them on, not bothering to fasten all 5 of the buttons.
"Babe I'm gonna be your man..."
Voices. Singing. Loud. Early. Noise. Loud.
Disjointed words filled Nick Stokes' mind as he groggily reached for the door. He turned the handle quickly and swung it open wide.
"..it's plain to see you were meant for me, yeah,
I'm your toy, your 20th Century Boy..."
Nick stopped in the archway to the other room. He leaned against the frame and tucked his thumb into a side pocket. A grin slowly found his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Nick chuckled.
Nick walked over to the stereo and unplugged the headphones. A smile filled his entire face as he watched Greg Sanders quickly spin around in the kitchen.
"What the...?" Greg sputtered as he pulled off the headphones. Surprise filled his face when he saw Nick. Surprise continued when he realized he could still hear the music...loudly.
"..it's plain to see you were meant for me, yeah,
I'm your toy, your 20th Century Boy..."
"Whooops?" Greg shrugged an awkward apology.
"This button here, G. This button." Nick pointed, all the while grinning. "You've GOT to push this when you plug in the headphones..."
"...or the sound still comes thru the speakers..." Greg recited the scolding. "I know this...I do...I was just..." He grinned adorably, "...sleepy."
Nick laughed, his anger already having been dissapated the moment he stood in the archway and watched Greg dance.
"You ARE making coffee...right?" Nick asked, having lost all ability to look stern.
"Most definatly..." Greg answered, turning on the coffee maker with a flourish.
"..it's plain to see you were meant for me, yeah..."
Nick walked into the kitchen. Shaking his head, he removed the headphones from around Greg's neck.
"20th Century Boy
I wanna be your toy
20th Century Boy
I wanna be your toy..."
Nick looked at Greg in his penguin boxers and one sock. He laughed, "You're damned sexy this way, G...damned sexy."
Greg flashed him a toothy grin.
"But Babe...you've GOT to push the button!"