This one's for the Unbound challenge, just a little bit of fun that's been brewing in my head... for two weeks o.O

Rating: PG for language

Spoilers: Beginning of season 4

Summary: Nick decides to lighten up the crime scene with a little lighthearted joke.

Disclaimer: If they were mine... I'd probably have a celebratory glass of Sprite Remix. In fact, I probably will anyway.

Work Jokes

"That's something you don't see everyday," Grissom noted. His gaze quickly swept across the perfect emerald of the green, taking in the scene. His focus shifted to the sound of someone coming up behind him. To this day he felt a wave of relief that he could still hear.

"You know, this reminds me of this joke..." Nick said pleasantly.

"Not the time, Nicky." He replied. "You can help Greg out."

Groaning, Nick retreated, immediately sobered at the thought of working with the preppy, overenthusiastic former lab tech.

Grissom had a bit of time on his hands, and he was the supervisor anyway, meaning he didn't answer to anyone, so he decided to follow Nick. Maybe he could do some real work for once, instead of constantly pushing paper.

"Okay, so a pastor and a nun are golfing, right," Nick started, grinning. "But the pastor isn't very good at it."

"Ooh, I know this one!" Greg exclaimed.

Nick glared him into silence. "Anyway, so they're at about the third hole and the pastor hits the ball into some trees. He shouts 'Shit! I missed!' and the nun says, 'Pastor! Mind your language!'

Nick's high-pitched imitation of the nun brought Warrick over to the little group. Sara was fighting a violent urge to laugh.

"The pastor goes and gets his ball, and they keep on playing. A few holes later, the pastor shoots the ball into a pond. He goes to the edge of the pond and shouts, 'Shit! I missed!' and the nun says, 'Pastor! Mind your language! What would the father think?' So the pastor keeps on playing, until-"

"Does this have a point?" Sara asked, no longer amused.

"Yes, if you'll let me finish." Nick said impatiently. "Anyway, the pastor's crappy aim lands the ball in a sand trap. He shouts 'SHIT!! I missed!' really loudly, and the nun, equally loudly, shouts, 'Pastor! What would God think!?!'.

"So they're on the second-to-last hole, and the pastor and the nun are both getting tired. The pastor hits the ball and it goes up, up, up..."

"And hits a bird!" Greg cut in gleefully. "And then-"

"Stop it! I'm telling the joke!"

"You're too slow! Just let me finish!"

"No way, dorkwad!"

"Dried-up spitball!"

"Bucket of congealed sewer water!"

"Old fogie!"

"Kindergartener!"

"You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so."

Sara, laughing so hard she could barely breathe, snorted. Warrick was halfway to the ground, sides aching. Nick and Greg fell silent under their supervisor's shadow.

Sara, still trying desperately to regain air, said, "Shakespeare?"

Grissom nodded. "Macbeth." Then he turned to Nick and Greg. "Well? Get on with the joke. I want to know how it ends. Just try and look busy." He smiled and started scanning the ground a few feet from them, and the others followed suit. As they drew closer to the crime scene tape, Nick flashed a warning glare at Greg then continued.

"So anyway, the pastor's ball hits a bird. Then the ball comes back down and hits the nun in the head. And-"

They had ambled to where Jim Brass was interviewing a hysterical Pastor Charles. Brass glanced over at the pack of CSIs with an obvious eye-roll.

"And then, as I knelt at the side of dear Sister Maria, I looked to the sky and saw a blinding light, and heard a tremendous voice. And of all things, the voice, which I consider to be that of God almighty himself, then did exclaim, 'Shit! I missed!'"

Nick sputtered. Greg's new bug-eyed look rivalled that of some of Grissom's real bugs. The pastor, finished his tale, was praying under his breath, eyes closed. Brass was clueless.

"I think he stole your punchline, Nick." Grissom said.

Nick shook his head. "Only in Vegas," he sighed.