A LITTLE SOMETHING AROUND THE MIDDLE
NOTES: There is a glossary at the end of this chapter.
I tried to find the right pronunciation of the word Putrescine but didn't. I'm going to assume it rhymes with 'scene'.
I scrubbed myself and stood under the hot water again.
It wasn't just that I wanted to wash away the stink of death, I also needed some time before going to the locker room. Grissom's parting shot had got me thinking. I mean, what the hell did it mean?
And there were other questions I still had no answer for: Was he just trying to let me down gently? Was he interested? And if he was, why couldn't he just say it ?
That's when the next question hit me:
Had I made a mistake by leaving the final decision to him?
I rolled my eyes. The answer to that question could only be another question: A very sarcastic 'You think?'
Of course it had been a mistake! What I should have done from day one was grab the lapels of that awful beige jacket he always wore, pull him until our noses were touching, and ask him if he wanted me!
Not that he would answer: He'd probably be so shocked by my actions, he'dsimply stand there, wide-eyed andhopelessly tongue-tied.
But hey, that would be ok. If he froze, I'd simply pull him closer and plant a wet one on his mouth. A delicious, wet one.
A long, delicious, wet one. Oh, yeah. I bet I'd even get to untie that tongue of his. He, he, he.
Smiling to myself, I turned off the water and picked up a towel.
Grissom was already gone when I went to the locker room. Well, good. I had other questions I needed to deal with before I faced him again. Like for instance: Why didn't I just grab Grissom and planted a wet one on him?
Well, maybe because I didn't want to scare him. And I didn't want to lose my job, either. Ha!
But the main reason was that I wanted it to be his idea. If he wanted me, then he should say so.
I had the feeling that Grissom had never taken the initiative in a romantic situation. I suspected he let people approach him and then he simply said no, or –depending on the other person's persistence- went along with it… out of courtesy, so to speak.
I didn't think he'd ever offered anything to anyone; not even hope. People waited in vain forsomething from him and after a while, they simply gave up.
Suddenly, I wondered how many people had lost their dignity while trying to get through to Grissom. It was a sobering thought.
Maybe it was time for me to rethink this.
I didn't want to spend months waiting in vain, or wondering what Grissom meant every time he opened his mouth. Life was just too short and I wanted to have fun now.
With a new determination, I went outside.
"What took you so long?" he asked
I turned.
'Oh, damn,' I thought, 'Why does he have to look so damn cute?'
There he was, freshly scrubbed, wearing sexy dark glasses and a sexier half smile. His hair was still wet and curly, just the way I liked it. Even the beige jacket didn't look so awful that day.
God, talk about being shallow. I mean, just a look at him and I forgot my determination to rethink the whole matter.
"Well?" he insisted.
"Well, what?" I asked, completely distracted.
He frowned.
"What took you so long?" he repeated.
Here was my chance to say something smooth, something devastatingly sexy; maybe a pick-up line that left no doubts about my interest in him…
"Well," I started, "I –hum- stank and-" I paused.
That wasn't very smooth, was it?
"Did you?" He asked noncommittally, but I was hopelessly tongue-tied now.
He sniffed the air, as if he could take a whiff of me despite the distance between us.
"Well-" he paused, "You probably still do."
And that was probably the closest thing to a pick-up line I'd ever get from him.
We reached the highway in silence.
I'd vowed not to speak until we were back at the lab.
I was pretty disgusted with myself; I mean, come on! 'I stank?' What kind of line was that? And I'd even reddened, for God's sake. No wonder he had uttered that 'I'm not perfect' line.
Oh, yeah. I'd had enough time to think it over and now I knew what he meant.
He knew I had a crush on him, and people with crushes don't notice any flaws –and if they notice, they don't care. Obviously, Grissom didn't approve of that.
I glanced at him. Yeah, my perception of him was distorted by my feelings, but was that so bad, really?
Well... sometimes it was. People who expect others to be perfect are often disappointed becausetheir loved can't live up to their expectations.
Maybe that's what he was afraid of?
"I know you're not perfect." I blurted out.
He faltered a little, but he purposefully kept his eyes on the road.
"Good." He mumbled after a moment.
Ha. He didn't think I'd have the guts to mention this.
I smiled to myself.
"I'm not perfect, either." I joked.
He smiled as if those words amused him.
"Yes, you are." He said.
Whaaaaa-?
I gaped, of course. I mean, wow.
Wow!
Feeling inmensely flattered, I looked expectantly at him.
He didn't even turn.
"And?" I said encouragingly.
"And, what?" he frowned, glancing at me for the first time.
Ah, shit. He was back to playing his little game.
"Nothing," I mumbled morosely.
"Ok." He said casually.
Fine. If he didn't want to talk, then I wouldn't talk either.
My determination didn't last long. I mean, I kept my mouth shut, but a sudden gurgling sound coming from my gut area reminded me that I hadn't eaten in more than ten hours.
"Hum, Grissom?" I said, "Do you think we could grab a bite somewhere?" I asked, "I'm kinda hungry."
"Are you?" he was stunned, "Most people can't handle food so soon after being at the Farm."
"Hey, after being at the farm, I'm glad to be alive." I said, "And determined to stay alive, too."
"Ok." He said, "I know some good places along the highway-"
"A clean, well-ventilated place would be nice." I said dryly. "I think I still smell." I said, taking a whiff from my hands, "I washed thoroughly, but-"
"The sensation won't go away any time soon, Greg." He said apologetically, "Even if others don't notice it, you will." He glanced at me, "It's the Putrescine-"
"You say Putrescine, I say rotten fish," I muttered. After a moment, I repeated the word, "Putrescine. Putrescine… it sounds like the name of some fancy French restaurant, doesn't it? Can you imagine, some guy telling you, 'Allo, Welcome to Putrescine!'?" I said, tugging at an imaginary moustache and using my best French accent.
He chuckled.
"I can imagine the menu," he said.
"Hey," I said suddenly, "You know what? I know a great place not far from here! There's a lot of fish in the menu, so we'll blend right in." I joked, "The owners are Norwegian and the food's not bad. What do you say?"
"Well-"
"My treat." I added.
"Ah, the magical words."
There was a strong smell of fish in the restaurant, but there were also other enticing aromas –meat stew, fresh bread, and caramel pudding.
Minutes later we were sitting next to the open garden, sipping cold water and reading the menus. Since the text was in both English and Norwegian,Grissom would have no trouble placing his order.
Imagine my surprise when, after smiling at the waitress, he said-
"Kan jeg få en øl?"
It was fortunate that I was only taking small sips of water, because when I heard those words, I almost choked. I gaped at Grissom, but he merely smiled and continued talking to the waitress, adding Fårikål and some Skillingsboller to his order.
The girl turned expectantly to me, and I mechanically placed my order.
As soon as she was out of sight I turned to Grissom. "What was that?"
"What was what?" he asked innocently.
"You know very well!" I retorted. "Do you speak Norwegian?"
"Well-"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't speak Norwegian." He said gently. He was smiling, really enjoying my confusion, "A while ago, I was checking Norway on a couple of sites and, well-" he shrugged, "It was interesting. One thing led to another and I ended up learning a few words."
"But you did more than that." I said.
"Well, yes," He said, reluctantly looking at me, "I learned some phrases. Nothing special," he added, "Just enough to, you know-" his voice trailed off.
I smiled. "Just enough to impress people?"
Grissom took a long time to answer.
"Not all people." He said quietly.
Ooooh... Well, well-
Did that mean what I thought it meant? If it did, then-
"Hey," Grissom glared, interrupting my reverie, "Now it's your turn to say I don't have to try so hard to impress you."
"Hell, no," I snorted, "I like it when you do things to impress me. Go on, tell me more phrases!"
Grissom glared again, but only briefly. He was deep in thought for a moment. "Du lukter som blomster og snop." He said, trying to hide a big smirk.
"Ha, ha" I rolled my eyes, "Now you're being sarcastic." After our little visit to the Body Farm, I definitely didn't smell of flowers.
"Jeg gleder meg til å møte deg til våren."
"That makes no sense." I teased.
"Hey, I just thought it might come in handy some day" He shrugged. He said a couple of phrases more, and then he quietly added, "Takk for idag. I appreciated your help at the Body Farm."
"Hey, I had fun." I said sincerely. "I'm really glad we got to do this, Grissom."
We looked at each other in silence. It seemed that we were on the brink of something important. He leant forward, and so did I; I opened my mouth, he opened his... but before either of us spoke, the waitress brought our food.
We both backed off, then.
Cowards!
TBC
Notes:
Glossary:
kan jeg få en øl? (Could I have a beer?)
takk for idag (thank you for today )
du lukter som blomster og snop (you smell like flowers and candy)
jeg gleder meg til å møte deg til våren (I am looking forward to seeing you in the spring)
Fårikål (Lamb and cabbage stew )
Skillingsboller (Cinnamon Rolls )