Greg's Needs
By ReverendKilljoy
Author's note: My response to a fiction challenge from Leslie: include the following in a 1500-word CSI piece: a calculus equation, a lunchbox, expensive perfume, catfish, and the line "I think Greg needs to get laid." Despite its failure to qualify, I sent her this piece that evening, for fun. My original title for this story was "Only 1293 Words Short!"
"Sara?"
"Huh?" She didn't look up from her calculus equation.
"That your perfume in the lab fridge?"
She looked up.
"Greg, what, in four years of working together, makes you think I wear perfume, or would store it in the lab fridge?"
"Point."
"It's White Shoulders." Grissom was pouring a cup of coffee from the thermos he'd taken from his lunchbox.
"Huh?" Greg and Sara both regarded him suspiciously.
"Judging by the aftertaste." Grissom looked at them. "It's not actually very subtle. Get it cold enough, and the botanicals drop out leaving an oily residue. Sort of like cold, fried catfish." He blinked. "Or, that's what it seems like to me."
"I think that man seriously needs to get laid," Greg thought, watching Grissom methodically sugaring his coffee and returning to his desk.
Greg opened the lab fridge again. Feeling foolish he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly.
"Son of a bitch," he thought, running his tongue slowly over his teeth. "Catfish."
Nick and Warrick watched from the doorway. After the second time Greg smelled their stored perfume sample and sighed loudly, they retreated to the hallway.
They both had the same thought:
"I think Greg needs to get laid."