Title: Reindeer, The Other White Meat
Author: Tayla
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg implied
Rating: FRT13
Category: Humor
Archive: Yes to WWOMB/Peja. All others please ask.
Feedback: Yes, please. All constructive criticism will be graciously accepted
Email: tayla36@aol.com
Authors Web Site: http://www.geocities.com/tayla36/index.html
Series/Sequel: no
Disclaimers: CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS broadcasting company. The author makes no profit and no infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: Written for princeraif as part of the 2002 CSI Secret Santa Challenge.
Summary: The unusual way that Greg celebrates Christmas lands him in the ER.
Warnings: none

I was sitting in the ER waiting room when the rest of the gang showed up. I had no idea how they heard about it. I had specifically asked the patrol officer not to call them. I guess he just couldn't resist.

They stood there staring at me for a moment. They were worried about Greg, but no one wanted to be the first to say anything.

So I went first.

"He's going to be fine. They're just stitching him up now."

Brass was the first to recover his voice. "You know, Nicky, the department does have refresher courses on gun safety."

Warrick chimed in. "I know he's annoying sometimes, but you didn't have to shoot him."

"I didn't shoot him!" I protested.

"Do we even want to know why you're dressed like an elf?" Catherine said. Which is exactly why I asked the cop not to call them. Now I have to explain outfit. Red and white stripped hose, green shorts, pointy shoes, and hat.

"And why are you holding a moose head?" Sara added.

Gil, ever the observant one said, "I believe that it's supposed to be a reindeer."

"It was all Greg's idea."

"So Greg dresses like a reindeer and you dress like an elf?" Brass said with a raised eyebrow. "Kinky."

Sara was trying, not very successfully, to control her giggles.

It pissed me off. "It's not funny! He got shot."

Gil was concerned. "Where did he get shot?"

"We were at the fifth street homeless shelter."

"No," he clarified. "Where did he get shot?"

"Intheass." I mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"He got shot in the ass, okay."

Sara lost the battle for control. She burst out laughing and was soon joined by Warrick and Catherine.

Just then a nurse wheeled Greg out to join us. His hair was going in all different directions, he was wearing green scrubs, and his reindeer costume was rolled into a ball and shoved into a plastic bag.

"What are you all laughing at?" He said innocently.

Which of course set Gil and Brass off, too.

He glared at them. "It's not funny!"

"I already tried that."

"Why did you call them anyway?" He bitched at me.

"I didn't call them. The uniform must have."

"And they think me getting shot is funny?"

Warrick managed to stop laughing long enough to say. "No, we think you getting shot in the ass is funny."

"Are you going to tell us what happened? Or let us imagine the worst?" Gil said.

Greg looked alarmed. "What are you imagining?"

"They're thinking it was some weird Christmas costumed sex thing. And they think I shot you."

He started giggling.

"Not funny, Greg. Brass is getting ready to arrest me for domestic abuse."

He laughed harder.

"Greg, will you just tell them what happened. It was your idea in the first place."

They all looked expectantly at my giggling boyfriend.

"No big deal. I do it ever year."

"Dress up like a reindeer?" Sara asked. "That is kinky."

"No, I volunteer at the homeless shelter. But this year they decided to have a real party, not just a dinner. You know, Santa, presents, elves, reindeer."

"So you got to be the reindeer."

"Oh good guess, Warrick." Greg said snidely.

"Will you just finish the story so we can go home." I was so tired. I just wanted to go home and forget any of this had happened.

"So anyway, one of the guys at the shelter was a little drunk."

Gil interrupted. "I thought places like that didn't let you in if you were drunk?"

"I guess with all the excitement of the party, he kind of slipped in." Greg continued, "Well anyway, he was drunk and armed. God knows how they missed that."

"So?" Gil prodded.

"So what?"

"So what happened?"

"He decided he was going to have venison for Christmas dinner."

End.