The Beating In My Chest

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I rubbed the excess water from my hair with a soft towel and walked from the bathroom, dumping the damp towels in the laundry basket. My pyjamas were loose on me and my fluffy blue robe was wrapped tightly around my waist. It was only 5pm. Normally at this time I'd be getting ready for a shift at the lab but not tonight. Tonight I was on strict orders to relax and sleep. I sat down on the sofa and curled up, noodles in hand and some cheesy soap opera on TV. The bedroom door opened and Greg stepped out, stopped, stretched out and blinked a few times. He had a new craze of parading around the apartment in his underwear, which I guess was fine considering it was [I]his[/I] apartment and that we had been together there for some time now, but it made me scared, which sounded really pathetic, but what if something happened between me and Greg and we became even closer and then Hodges let slip about us and then we both got lost our jobs and maybe each other? It'd kill us both. The wise thing would be to break up with Greg, now, before anything else happened...

I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it.

I was abruptly winded by something heavy dropping right on top of me. I looked up; stunned to find a pair of half closed, sleepy brown eyes staring back at me.

"Greggy Boy, what on earth are you doing?" I asked him once I'd regained the ability to breathe and had squirmed to safety; a place where he wasn‘t crushing my ribcage into my lungs.

"You're comfier than the kitchen stools." He mumbled, snuggling into my shoulder and closing his eyes. He was adorable when he was this sleepy and I did enjoy feeling his body close to mine.

"Don't fall asleep again! You're the lucky one who's working tonight!" I prodded him in the side and tried to shove the deadweight from my own body.

"Why is working tonight a lucky thing?" Greg lifted his head and looked confused.

"Because it means you're not in a court room tomorrow morning." I explained glumly.

"No, because I'm in the morning after." Greg finally seemed to wake up fully and stretch.

"I don't want to go at all. I hate lawyers. They're out to get me." I said, slipping from under him finally and leaning against his shoulder instead.

"No they're not Miks. Lawyers are just hard on everyone, it's their job and being hard is sometimes the only way they can do it." He slinked his hand into mine and draped his arm around my shoulders.

"I just get so wound up by them and they always seem to be acting like they‘re better than anyone else and then my temper flares up and - ugh, I just hate it all." I sighed, letting my fingers trace a fading scar on Greg's hand.

"You'll do fine! It's different to when we're just supporting the evidence in a case. This time you were the victim." Greg turned my face to look at his.

God, he was so cute.

"That reminds me..." I pulled away from him and threw my robe over the sofa, so I was sitting in my loose black vest and grey sweatpants. He gave me a puzzled look and I took his hand in my own and guided his hand just under the hem of my vest to where the two bullet scars graced my pale skin. At first, there was a little perverted glint in his eyes but as soon as he realised what my real intentions were he tried to pull his hand away but I held it there, even though his saddened expression tore at my heart and sent me on the worst guilt trip imaginable.

"I need to do this to you Greg because you need to realise that I'm okay and I want you to be able to relive that night when you‘re up on the stand. I know it was horrific for you and I know that you never want to think about it again, but look at them now Greg; there're just two tiny scars that don‘t even hurt anymore." I told him, using my free hand to caress his cheek.

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