Disclaimer: Please refer to Chapter one. I'm just not creative enough to think of something new for each chapter...
A/N - I can't tell you enough how honored I am to have you all reviewing this story. Honestly, it's more than I ever dreamed, and I have each of you to thank for it. I can only hope that this will continue to live up to your wonderful reviews as the time passes. Enjoy.
What's For Dinner?
Seated at the table in the breakroom, Nick was reading a magazine while waiting on the microwave to finish his lunch. Lunch was relative to eating at four in the morning, but he was not about to complain about timing as long as he was eating.
Greg plopped down beside him at the table, looking over Nick's shoulder at the magazine in his hands. "So... wanna head out for something to eat?"
"Nah, but thanks, Greggo. I'm nuking something now," Nick replied, absently reading the main article in ESPN: The Magazine.
"I don't wanna go out by myself," Greg whined.
Warrick came walking in next, yawning and carrying a carry out box of food and a copy of GQ to read on break. "This is the longest night we've had in a long time. Has anyone even got a speeding ticket in the last four hours?" He dropped his lanky frame into a chair on the opposite side of the table from Nick and Greg, his back to the doorway.
"Don't jinx it, 'Rick," Catherine reprimanded him from the doorway. "This could quite possibly be the first time in weeks I'll get to see my daughter before she leaves for school." She slumped into the chair alongside Warrick and pried open the box containing his lunch.
Grissom walked into the breakroom and straight over to the small under-the-counter refrigerator. He moved the items around in there until he saw what he was looking for. His fingers grabbed the brown bag and pulled it from the shelf. Sighing, he grabbed the diet soda beside it.
Just two days earlier Sara had criticized his eating habits. Grissom had complained about how tired he was feeling and made some mention about his cholesterol. To which Sara had replied that he needed to learn to eat better, and she was just the woman for the job.
Briefly, Grissom considered sitting down with Nick and Greg, but he feared them seeing what he was eating. Well, Grissom had to admit to himself that he was unaware of what exactly Sara had packed in the bag for his lunch. But, opening it in front of them could be worse than just eating it in the privacy of his office.
Sara looked inside the breakroom through the glass wall from across the hall. Grissom caught her eye and gave her a slight grimace, shaking the bag in his hand. Sara smiled at him, wondering just how he was going to pretend to eat what she had prepared and think of ways to smuggle some other food for himself into the lab.
"Gris, you gonna sit down and join us or stand there and try and absorb the food through osmosis?" Greg asked, glancing up at his supervisor.
Sara walked into the breakroom and walked over to the coffee pot. After pouring a cup, she placed herself down on the couch. "Grissom?" She eyed him questioningly. He was just standing there with a deer in the headlights look.
Grissom sat himself down in one of the chairs, purposefully trying not to look at Sara, even though he could feel her eyes on him. It was incredibly unnerving to have her watching him get out the lunch she had prepared, and everyone else was watching as well. He pulled the smaller baggy out of the brown paper sack.
"Sprouts?" Nick asked, grimacing at the sandwich on the table. Complimented by a tomato slice and a leave of romaine lettuce, the alfalfa sprouts were sticking out from all sides like a chia pet having a bad hair day.
Nick's question brought every other set of eyes toward him and then followed his line of sight to the sandwich in front of Grissom. Grissom stared in confusion at the breaded wonder on the table. He tilted his head in confusion, again reminding himself not to look at Sara. To Sara's credit, she was suppressing her smirk, watching some infomercial on TV, and paying no attention to any of them.
"Rabbit food, Gil?" Catherine joked, her eyebrows shooting up in a comical display.
"Gris, man, that looks too healthy to be good for you." Warrick laughed. He shook his head, smacking Catherine's hand away from his own boxed lunch.
Nick turned to look at Sara, who was paying no attention to any of them. "Looks like something the resident vegetarian would eat," he mentioned conversationally.
"Huh?" Sara turned around to look at the table, hearing the mention of her personal eating choices.
Grissom, raised eyebrow of question, turned to look at her. Sara looked blankly back at the group. Suddenly, she regretted making that lunch for Grissom. It had been for little more than shock value, but she had not planned on everyone else seeing what she he had to eat. The amusing part was that she had a real lunch set aside for him besides the fake one she had put in the breakroom refrigerator for him.
"This monstrosity in front of Grissom looks like something you'd eat." Catherine drew a finger out, poking it pointedly at the sandwich.
Sara stood and walked over to the table. "That does look amazingly like something I would be accused of eating... In fact, it looks like what I packed for my lunch today. Thought I'd try something new." She shrugged a shoulder carelessly.
"That looks disgusting," Greg commented.
Sara frowned at the youngest CSI. "It's not disgusting. It's healthy."
"Yeah. Whatever. Have you ever tried it?" Greg looked up at her with a wrinkled lip and a revolted stare.
"Not yet," Sara admitted. "I was planning on doing that in a few minutes..."
The microwave beeped, signaling the cooking – or heating, as the case may be – of Nick's lunch was completed. He jumped up and grabbed the microwave door, yanking it open to reveal a horrific smell that filled the small room.
"Oh! Damn, Nick. What is that?" Warrick screeched.
"Lunch, bro. What's it look like?" Nick asked, oblivious to all the appalled faces around him. After sitting back in his chair, he placed it in his mouth, taking a huge bite.
"And, all of you were criticizing my food choices." Sara said distastefully.
"I'd take that burrito over your gerbil food any day," Catherine mused.
"Coming from you, Catherine, that scares me. That thing..." Sara gestured towards Nick's choice of food. "... is nothing more than rolled up death mush in a wrap."
"Would you rather I ate a hot dog?" Nick said, mouth full of food, "I think there's some in the freezer."
Sara shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Yeah... tubular sticks of death are so much better. Maybe you should have some circular slices of death while you're at it."
Greg looked over at her, excited. "Bologna?"
"Woo, Greg gets a gold star." She winked appreciatively at him.
"So, Gris," Warrick asked, "What are you doing with Sara's lunch?"
"I thought it was mine," Grissom answered sheepishly. "I could've sworn I put it in the refrigerator."
"Sure it's not in your refrigerator in your office with your little experiments?" Sara asked, pulling the food away towards her and sitting in the chair beside him.
Grissom's only response was to shrug and stand from his chair. He grimaced watching her take a tentative bite from the sandwich. Watching Sara chew the dry, springy concoction sandwiched between bread, Grissom flinched and walked from the room.
Minutes later, Grissom walked back into the breakroom with another bag in his hand, amazingly similar to the one he had opened earlier. He placed himself back down in the chair that he had vacated just moments before. Gingerly, Grissom opened the bag in his hand and pulled out a turkey sandwich.
With a lopsided grin, Grissom commented, "Now, this looks more like something I would pack for lunch."
"Even though everyone's food has totally grossed me out, I'm starving. Who wants to go out for some food?"
Catherine looked at Warrick and grinned. Warrick answered for both of them. "Greg, I think Cath and I are out. She's had her fill of my food, and I'm not really hungry myself."
"Looks like you're on your own, Greg. Nick's had his daily dose of death, and Gris and I have both eaten as well."
"You didn't eat all the grass on the sandwich." Greg indicated the almost whole sandwich on the plastic baggy in front of her.
Sara nonchalantly reached over and took half of Grissom's sandwich off the table in front of him. "Looks like I've got it all taken care of."
She smiled before taking a large bite of the sandwich, earning a confused look from Grissom. Greg looked on with an equally bewildered look. Sara was eating meat. This could definitely prove interesting. Nick looked up to see her taking another bite out of the sandwich Grissom had brought into the room.
"Sara?" Nick raised an eyebrow.
"It's not like I'm breaking a law or anything." Taking another bite, she added, "I have a feeling it's not even real meat. Probably some of that tofu stuff that's made to taste like turkey. Mmm." She quickly walked from the room, carrying the sandwich in her hand.
"Grissom, is she..." Greg started to ask.
"Unfortunately, yes, she is right," he responded, watching her retreat. After all, Sara knew more about what he was eating than he did.
To Be Continued...
