Warrick tried not to grin as he heard Greg ‘tip-toe’ into bed. It was long past the time when the other man was supposed to be off his feet and in bed and he knew it. Warrick had told him he could stay up reading for another half hour...about an hour and a half ago. He waited until Greg was under the covers and had curled up very carefully over Warrick’s chest to clamp his arms around his slave and ask, “Get everything read?”

Greg groaned. “I’m busted, aren’t I?”

Warrick agreed, “You’re lucky I’m too damn mellow right now to do anything about it.”

“You wouldn’t beat an expectant father, now, would you?” Greg asked, leaning up on Warrick’s chest with a grin big enough to see in the dark.

Sliding his hand down along Greg’s rounded belly, Warrick paused even though he knew it was too early for the baby to be grown enough to kick. His or her little legs were barely as long as his finger; his pinky finger. “No, but there’s other ways to punish you that have nothing to do with touching a hair on your head.”

The smile faded a bit and Greg asked warily, “Like what?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe taking away your internet for a couple of weeks?”

“Master! You wouldn’t!?” Greg demanded, horrified. “Please don’t, I’d go completely nuts if I didn’t have it!”

Chuckling, Warrick kissed him, taking time to map out the already familiar insides of his slave’s mouth. When Greg relaxed against him completely, Warrick pulled back and said softly, “I would never beat you, Greg, not outside of a scene.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Greg muttered, lowering his gaze.

Warrick rubbed his hand over the soft belly and said, “S’ok, Greg, I know you were kidding. Just want to make sure you know it too.”

Startled, Greg pulled away to sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

Not having meant to start this kind of discussion while Greg was hormonal, or ever really, Warrick sighed and sat up as well. Scrubbing fingers through his hair, Warrick finally admitted, “I see you lookin’ wary sometimes, and I just think about...how Nick never looks at Grissom that way. And I know, the situations are completely different, totally day from night, but...if you really trusted me to protect you, you’d lose that look.”

“Master, no, that’s not it,” Greg assured him hastily.

“Then what is it?”

“I...it’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Greg sighed and took his hand, then said, “Let’s get comfortable.”

Seeing the sense of that, especially if it was going to be a long story, Warrick nodded and shoved the pillows against the headboard, then helped Greg to settle between his legs. His slave leaned back and Warrick wrapped his arms around the slighter man’s body, hands resting on the belly.

Resting his head on Warrick’s shoulder, retaking one of his Master’s hands in both of his, Greg said, “I lived a pretty normal life growing up. We didn’t have a lot, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some. We didn’t have to worry about a Collector coming around mid-month to haul us all off. Didn’t have any dealings with the cops, except to see them on the street. Didn’t even interact with slaves, really, because it was a working class neighborhood.”

Warrick kept his mouth firmly shut when Greg paused to consider his words. Despite his tendency to babble, the young man rarely spoke about his life before being a slave. Or even his time as a slave, really, and Warrick had let it slide hoping that one day Greg would feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

“Anyhow. Then there was the drug thing and I got locked up and convicted and sold and bam! Life as I knew it was over. Cops were like Overseers; to be feared. Really, everyone was to be feared, except for another slave. And then I was sold and I learned what fear really was.”

Warrick gently rubbed Greg’s stomach and placed a kiss on the side of his neck, hoping to calm him without words.

Taking a breath, Greg let it out slowly and said, “When Master Grissom found me, I honestly didn’t care if I lived or died. I was actually hoping to die from my injuries before I could get sold to someone worse, though it didn’t seem possible. And then, then there was you and all of a sudden I was safe again. Safe and loved and cared for, which really, I had never felt like that before in my life. I mean, my parents loved me, but, I don’t know. Anyhow. That look you see on my face sometimes? It’s not fear of you, but fear that I could be taken from you. I’ll kill myself first.”

“Oh, Greg, don’t say that. You’ve got another life to look after now and that’s more important than either one of us.”

“But if I get taken from you...”

“You won’t. It ain’t going to happen. Period.” Warrick cut in. He rubbed Greg’s back as the slave shifted sideways in his arms. “We’re going to live to be old and gray and get on each other’s nerves, you hear me?”

Greg half-laughed, half-sobbed, curling up tighter around Warrick. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good. Now come on, let’s get some sleep,” Warrick ordered, kissing his temple.

There was more shifting around until Warrick was spooned up behind Greg, the slave rested his cheek on Warrick’s bicep. Warrick’s other arm lay along Greg’s side and over his hip. It seemed to take a long time before the other man fell asleep, and it was even longer after that until Warrick did the same.