Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy verse nor CSI. I own nothing.
Welcome to MissChriss’s mini fic’s. I will be doing a series of mini one-shot fics starting my favorite characters.
Most fics will be slash, and mostly staring Xander.
Fics I am planning.
Xander/Greg (CSI) Slash
Xander/Tony (NCIS) non slash
Xander/Daniel (Stargate) slash
Xander/Dean (Supernatural) slash
This is the first installment of the Xander-athon. Note for this fic I changed a few things in the time line. The final battle with the first, where Sunnydale is no more took place in the early afternoon. 3pm It takes about 4and a half hours to drive from LA to Vegas (I’ve driven it) I figure that Sunnydale is a bit outside of LA so it should take less time.
The Previous morning
“Grissom,” Greg said into the phone with a pleading voice. “I know that I had tonight off and we are swamped and I am scheduled to come into to work tomorrow but can I please have the night off?" Greg asked his boss.
“Are you sick?” Grissom asked. “If not; you need you to come in, we just had another triple homicide. Most of swing shift is pulling in overtime to help out. We really need you.”
“Yes sir. I just have a really bad feeling about tomorrow.” Greg answered through his teeth. He was angry. He understood Grissom’s position but his panic was too set in.
Greg practically ran through the hall into the staff lounge were the television was on and everyone was gathered around watching the news. Last night when he got the phone call that a huge battle was going down Greg had been on edge. He had forgone sleep in favor of worrying. His worrying took on full fledge panic at around three when the news had talked about the whole town of Sunnydale falling into a sinkhole.
Nick and Warrick were discussing the news while Catherine and Sara stared fixated at the television. No one notice Greg came in until they all heard quick shallow panicked breaths from behind them as the death toll scrolled across the screen.
Catherine gasped as she saw Greg. He was pale, ashen faced, shaking, in the midst of a full blown anxiety attack. His clothing was wrinkled. He had dark circles under his eyes. His breathing was off and he was fiddling with his phone trying to frantically dial but his hands were shaking too hard to press the buttons. Falling into mothering mode she rushed over to him and mad him sit down.
"Sara, get Grissom.” She ordered. “Nick a glass of cold water, and Warrick a blanket.” The three CSI’s rushed out the room. Greg was shivering his skin cold and clammy.
“Greg, Greg, look at me.” She said snapping her fingers in his face. “You need to breathe. That’s right deeper slower breaths.” She urged him. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong?”
“He…He lives in Sunnydale and he’s n...n...not answering his phone. I’ve called his cell and his house, and his parents, and his friends’ cells. No one is answering."
Greg looked to be on the verge of tears. In all the time she had worked with Greg she had never seen him cry. Not when Nick was kidnapped, not even when he was beaten by the gang or when he killed that boy to save the tourist. Greg in all his childishness had always been extremely tough. You had to be in this job. But here he was in near tears and she couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort him. She saw the death toll; it was very likely that Greg’s friend was dead. She knew that he knew that too.
“Greg you need to calm down ok. Take a few sips of water.” She handed him the glass Nick had brought. “He might have got out. LA is setting up a shelter for the survivors. He might be there and not have had a chance to call yet. You need to be calm so we can call LA and see what we can find out.” Warrick handed her the blanket he had wet to get. It was a blue cotton blanket usually used for victims. They all had one in their cars, and a few in the storage closet. Victims naturally fall into panic attacks and for many people that causes a dramatic decrease in body temperature. Catherine pulled out a pen and notebook.
“Greg I need you to tell me some things about your friend; his name, age, appearance so that I know what to ask for when I call.”
“His name in Xander, well Ale…” Greg was interrupted when Grissom and Sara arrived in the room.
“Greg, there is an Alexander Harris at the reception desk waiting for you.” Grissom told him.
Greg practically leapt up and ran out of the room, the CSI’s hot on his trail. He stopped a few feet in front of a tall man, with dark messy hair, an eye patch. The man looked like he rolled around in the dirt. He had cut’s a bruises littering his body, and a goofy smile on his face.
“Are you hurt?” Greg asked Xander
“Not too badly.” He replied opening his arms. Greg took that moment to leap into Xander wrapping his arms around his neck and locking his legs around his waist. “Oaf, you’re getting heavy.” Xander murmured.
The other CSI’s looked at the two in shock. While Greg had always been an ostentatious flirt he had always seemed to shy away from physical contact. And here he was attached to a man none of them had ever heard of, and it was obvious from the way that Xander prepared for it, that it was not the first time Greg jumped into his arms. It seemed like that position was a natural one for them.
Xander walked over to the others. “Are you going to get down?” Xander asked Greg. Greg just shook his head no. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
Greg lifted his head up and looked over his shoulder. “Starting on the left is Sara, Grissom, Catherine, Warrick and Nick. Everyone this is Xander.”
Xander lifted his hand to wave at everyone. “Hi, Xander Harris, marsupial.”
The others start to laugh, including Grissom, at the cheesy joke.
“Mr. Harris. Why don’t you bring Mr. Sanders home, tell him he has the night off, but I expect to see him first thing for shift tomorrow.”
AN: A Marsupial is an animal that carries it’s young in a pouch on its stomach. Such as a Kangaroo or a Koala bear. Xander says this because Greg is attached to him.