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When Sam came back in, G had turned down the lights over their desks and was resting his head on one hand as he poked out his report listlessly with the other.
Sam wanted to slam the little plastic bottle down on G's desk, but he was already letting himself in for an argument, so it was probably better not to make things worse. Instead he shook two aspirin out while he was by the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water and quietly handed both over to G.
Ignoring the pills, G took the water. "Thanks."
Sam rolled his eyes and set the pills on the edge of G's keyboard. "Take those."
"I need to tell you you're not my mother again?"
"Nope… Dr. Hanna, M.D., remember?"
G gave him a lopsided grin. "I don't need pills. I need sleep."
"You are a pill," Sam countered, trying to keep the conversation casual. He'd wear G down. It wouldn't take much as worn down as he already was. "Take the damn meds."
"I don't like drugs," G told him bluntly.
"No shit," Sam said. "I'm the guy who had to run interference and lead negotiations for two months every time a doctor or nurse came in with pain meds or some-damn-thing for the five bullet holes in you last summer."
"So, you see why I don't need meds to deal with a little headache."
Sam sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, you had enough going on with almost being dead and all back then, so I never asked…"
G gave him a go-on-ask look.
"What is your issue with meds? Why stay miserable?"
G leaned back. To the untrained eye, it was just a casual shifting of position, but Sam knew G was scoping out the room. Seeing who else was in earshot. When he was satisfied that no one else but Sam would hear him he finally said quietly, "Because I grew up in the generation where they thought the best way to deal with pissed off kids was to medicate the fuck out of us until we acted right. I never knew what they were giving me, what it was supposed to or if it was doing it."
Sam blew out a breath. He'd never trade G's trust in him for anything, but sometimes he thought he was better off staying ignorant of certain details.
"After a while I started to figure out that I really hated the way certain drugs just made me feel numb, so I quit taking them. Well… I took them. Someone would hand them to me and I'd pocket them until I could flush 'em. I remember Alina Rostoff's mom asking me if I was taking my meds after I'd been in a fight once. I told her that I had taken my meds. She just stared at me like she knew damn well that wasn't the entire truth. So I told her that I'd taken them to school, taken them to basketball practice, taken them to the grocery store…"
Sam laughed. G's sense of humor and quick wit were two of his most endearing qualities. When you weren't on the receiving end of them. "What'd she do?"
G stretched his hands over his head and stretched his neck, trying to work out some of the tension. "She actually listened to me when I said why I hated being on them. Took me to a doctor and actually got me off everything but the Ritalin."
Sam tried but couldn't quite repress a smile. "Why am I not surprised that you were hyperactive as a kid?"
Just then Kensi bounced in. "Who was a hyperactive kid?"
Covering seamlessly, as usual, G turned to her and said, "I'm guessing you were. Hell, I'd say you still are."
"I'm not the one who starts vibrating with boredom twenty minutes into a stakeout," Kensi countered.
"No, you're the one who starts taking things apart. Sometimes things we need for that stakeout," Sam retorted.
"It was just the binoculars and it was just the once. And it was mostly an accident," Kensi argued as she flopped into her chair.
Sam turned back to G, speaking quietly enough that Kensi was unlikely to hear. "Take the stupid aspirin so you can get this done, so Hetty'll get off your back and we can get the hell out of here."
He was only a little surprised when G actually did as told.