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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders</id>
  <title>.Stop the Presses.</title>
  <subtitle>.I'm like a sponge.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Greg Sanders</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2007-02-15T04:10:46Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="11743834" username="labratsanders" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:2912</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-02-14T21:22:00</title>
    <published>2007-02-15T04:10:46Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-15T04:10:46Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Nick&lt;br /&gt;Where: Greg's apartment&lt;br /&gt;When: Around the end of the serial&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg usually didn't cook. It wasn't that he was bad at it; if he had decent enough directions, he could make almost anything. It was just that he usually didn't like cleaning up after himself afterward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, as he'd discovered when he'd started cooking, Pancho seemed to love being in the way. Even more so with all the seafood that Greg was working with. But once he'd figured out how to distract the cat, cooking was easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for the phone sitting by the stove, Greg doublechecked the recipe he'd printed off earlier. The time left to wait for what he was making would have been enough time for Nick to come over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He headed toward the living room, double checking everything he'd laid out earlier (he wanted to make sure this was special; after all, it had been a part of a fantasy Nick had had) as he dialed Nick's number.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:2609</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-02-13T21:17:00</title>
    <published>2007-02-14T03:18:28Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-14T03:18:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">To do list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Figure certain things out.&lt;br /&gt;2. Call Dr. Finch and make an appointment.&lt;br /&gt;3. ...buy chocolate. Am now hungry.&lt;br /&gt;4. Go out with Archie.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:2385</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-02-04T23:15:00</title>
    <published>2007-02-05T05:35:16Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-05T05:35:16Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Nick&lt;br /&gt;Where: Greg's apartment&lt;br /&gt;When: during the first serial, a few hours before the start of the second shift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg was never one to wake up before his alarm went off. Usually, when it went off, he'd hit the snooze button a few dozen times, or, if Nick had spent the night, whenever Nick woke him up. So it came as a bit of a surprise when Greg stirred out of a sound sleep without the aid of... anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a disoriented moment, Greg couldn't figure out where he was when he finally remembered he was in his own bed and the comforting weight around him was Nick. He'd rolled over in his sleep, his back up against Nick's chest, and Greg carefully rolled over, wondering if Nick had possibly woken him up. But no, judging by the peaceful look on the other man's sleeping face, Nick was, without a doubt, fast asleep. He hummed a bit, leaning in to kiss Nick's forehead, then untangled himself from the other man, and noticed Pancho sleeping on Nick's other side. Greg smiled faintly, and turned to grab a shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He padded quietly to the kitchen, pulling his shirt on as he went. He couldn't completely change himself in a day, but if Dr. Finch didn't mind taking on a new patient, Greg figured he could at least work on the things he had issues with, and what was making him push Nick away without meaning to. That, at least, was a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg scanned his kitchen for a couple minutes, looking for what, he didn't know. But finally, he settled in, making a pot of coffee and, because Nick had had a point with saying Greg'd never tried to spoil him, making omelettes and toast.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:2299</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-01-28T02:29:00</title>
    <published>2007-01-28T08:56:24Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-28T08:56:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Greg and Pancho (the cat, not the person, although the person could join too)&lt;br /&gt;Where: Greg's apartment&lt;br /&gt;When: After the first shift of the serial&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg had lost count of how many cigarettes he'd smoked since the "break up". He'd certainly lost count of how often he'd gotten drunk when he wasn't working. He certainly wasn't drunk at that moment, although he was tempted to dig up the bottle of half full tequila that was hidden in his cupboards from that last night before "the break up".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He studied the ash in his ashtray and vaguely wondered when he'd begun smoking indoors. He sighed and got off his ass, crossing to the balcony with the half full tray. And almost tripped on the cat when the silly thing decided to follow. He stumbled, banging his shoulder against the wall, and glared at the cat. The black and white cat stared back boredly, yellow eyes half closed in the morning light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a moment, Pancho yawned, pink tongue curling before the cat turned its attention away from Greg and to where its' food dish was supposed to be. The feline meowed loudly, demanding to know where its' breakfast was. Greg ignored the cat a moment, sliding open the door and setting down the ashtray. When he caught an interested look from the cat, he quickly slid the door closed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no, you don't, Panch." Greg warned, turning to head into the kitchen. The cat, sure it was going to be fed now, followed impatiently, letting a string of meows go and letting Greg know just how hungry it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finally relenting to feed the cat, Greg absently made coffee and grabbed a bowl of cereal. His hand was raised to pour the milk into the bowl when his eyes landed on his cellphone. Surely, just because they were apart, didn't mean he couldn't talk to Nick, right...? Greg bit his lower lip in thought as he finished pouring the milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he was aware of doing it, he'd snatched up the cellphone and had dialed Nick's number. His thumb was poised over the Call button when his brain caught up with the rest of him. "I can't." Greg told the silent (but for the cat's eating) apartment, setting the cellphone back down. Pancho made a questioning "Mrow?" into its' dry food, but Greg didn't respond like he had since getting the cat a few days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He scooped a spoonful of cereal, eying the phone and Nick's number dialed in it like the phone was possessed. Greg picked the cell back up, preparing to clear the number as he put the loaded spoon in his mouth.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:1336</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-01-07T23:34:00</title>
    <published>2007-01-08T05:39:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-08T05:39:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Nick&lt;br /&gt;Where: Breakroom&lt;br /&gt;When: After the Nick/Greg makeup&lt;br /&gt;(requires &lt;a href="http://labratsanders.livejournal.com/1130.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; to do list.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one thing Greg never really liked about his breaks was that they were usually boring when he spent them by himself. And usually, that's what he did. But tonight was different. Nick had managed to get a break at the same time, so the two of them were sitting across from each other in the break room. It was almost funny; the two of them sitting there, acting like it was just coincidence that they were on break together, and they'd been talking idly before Greg had decided to start writing a to do list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a moment, he paused and pushed the to do list toward Nick, pointing to the third point on his list.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:1130</id>
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    <title>To Do List</title>
    <published>2007-01-08T05:24:12Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-08T05:24:12Z</updated>
    <category term="to do"/>
    <category term="list"/>
    <content type="html">1. Make Nick happy&lt;br /&gt;2. Buy more lube&lt;br /&gt;3. Ask Nick about the keys again&lt;br /&gt;4. Get key for apartment made (regardless)&lt;br /&gt;5. Get massage oil and book on giving better back massages&lt;br /&gt;6. Remember to bring an extra set of clothes to have in locker&lt;br /&gt;7. Find out if Nick still makes toys&lt;br /&gt;8. ...find out what kind&lt;br /&gt;9. Find out what Nick's doing because this list sucks&lt;br /&gt;10. Ask for snuggling instead of list making&lt;br /&gt;11. ...remember why this list was made&lt;br /&gt;12. Plan date</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:981</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-01-03T04:02:00</title>
    <published>2007-01-03T10:09:07Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-03T10:09:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Nick, Greg&lt;br /&gt;Where: Nick's townhouse&lt;br /&gt;When: post Nick/Greg fallout, post bar-scene&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg had managed to convince Archie that he'd sobered up enough to make it up Nick's walkway. And he'd managed to keep up appearances all the way to Nick's door, but the minute Archie's car had pulled out of the driveway, Greg gave up the act and slumped against the doorframe. He was proud of the fact he'd managed to not spill his coffee though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a minute, he stared at the buzzer, as if trying to remember how to use it, then pressed it once, twice, then just held his finger against it. Whatever part of his mind that wasn't alcohol-drenched wanted another cigarette in his nervousness, but for now, Greg's attention was focused on ringing the doorbell with one hand and holding the cup of coffee in the other.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:labratsanders:564</id>
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    <title>labratsanders @ 2007-01-02T08:22:00</title>
    <published>2007-01-02T14:30:07Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-02T14:30:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Who: Greg, Archie&lt;br /&gt;Where: random bar&lt;br /&gt;When: post Nick/Greg fallout&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg usually didn't drink socially. Mostly because when he drank, he did it at home where he was less of a danger to anyone but himself. That wasn't to say Greg didn't believe in going out and having a good time, because he did do that on occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point in time, probably after the second beer, Greg had told Archie almost everything about his and Nick's relationship. There were some parts, like the sex, that he briefly glossed over, with a faint blush that could be attributed to the alcohol. He kept everything Nick had said in confidentiality to himself, like about how he was in relationships, but Greg laid the bare bones of the past month he'd spent with Nick out to Archie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only other thing Greg didn't mention was the fact that, until the fight in Archie's lab, he'd honestly thought that he and Nick could make it last. He just wasn't sure if that were still true.</content>
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