Title: Soup
By: Chapin CSI
Pairing: Gil/Greg
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Bodies in Motion (thanks for the info, Arynn!) In this episode Greg gets drenched in some liquid human remains. He should have used a face shield. In Crate 'N Burial, Gil reveals that he never wears scented aftershave.
Warning: I don't speak English and it shows in my stories; luckily, my readers are very forgiving. Thanks!
Summary: Humor. A yucky story. Gil can't believe that Greg has more experience than him...

***

Greg wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror and then he studied his reflection.

He had some serious whiskers to remove.

Yawning loudly, he picked up his new bottle of shaving cream and squeezed some foam on his palm. He was glad he'd got one with a minty formula. Hopefully, it would give him a much-needed jolt.

Greg was still sleepy.

He had barely slept five hours in the last two days –and only because he was able to take naps in the back of his car. But then, everybody at the lab was swamped with work. The only reason he'd been allowed to come home for some rest was because he had a court appearance later that morning.

Two hours of sleep were just not enough...

Not that he'd used those two hours to rest. Not with Gil unexpectedly showing up.

And speaking of the devil...

Gil entered the bathroom then.

"Morning," Greg greeted.

"Mrnfn," Grissom muttered, walking past him seemingly without opening his eyes.

Greg smiled to himself. It looked like Gil would have to stay a couple of minutes under the cold spray before being able to utter a single coherent word.

The poor man was exhausted, too.

When Gil stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and another around his neck, and his eyes were open and alert.

"Hey, Greg." he greeted.

"Good morning." Greg said, squeezing against the sink so Grissom could walk past him. Grissom did, but first he took a moment to press a kiss on Greg's neck.

Greg smiled. Gil was the most reserved person he knew, but somehow he always found unexpected ways to show his affection.

Gil was about to reach the door when he stopped and turned. He took a tentative whiff at Greg.

"Do I smell mint?" he asked.

Greg nodded.

"It's from the shaving cream," he explained, "Why?" he asked when he noticed Gil's frown, "Is it too strong?"

"Well... Yeah."

"Don't tell me you're allergic to mint."

"I'm not." Gil said, "I'm just not a big fan of scents." he said, "At least, not at the workplace." He added pointedly.

"Oh. I get it." Greg said, "Strong scents interfere with your ability to ID smells at a crime scene-"

"Exactly." He nodded, "But, since you're going to court, then it's ok."

"So that's why you wear only scentless stuff." Greg said.

Gil nodded, and then he silently watched as Greg shaved the few whiskers that grew over his lip.

"You, on the other hand, are always surrounded by scents," Gil remarked, "Hair gel, chewing gum, aftershave-"

"I thought you liked my aftershave," Greg interrupted.

Gil scoffed softly. He did like it.

"Talking about scents…" he said, "Sara told me about that little accident you had today."

Greg froze, the razor stopping half-way down his cheek.

He glanced at Grissom's reflection on the mirror.

"She rattled me out, huh?" he glared.

"It wasn't like that," Grissom said, "She was so impressed by the way you reacted, that she just had to tell me. According to her, you acted like a pro," he said, and then he gave Greg a stern look, "Although a pro would have used a face shield," he added.

"I know," Greg muttered evasively. He'd been careless and he had paid for it by getting drenched in human waste. He just hadn't planned on telling Gil about it.

"Sara says that you practically licked the liquid off your face."

Greg grimaced.

"Nah, I didn't lick it-"

"But you didn't puke, either," Grissom pointed out, "Anybody else would have. Sara was really impressed, and so am I." He leant on the doorway and watched Greg for a while, "You know, that's something I've noticed about you," Gil mused aloud, "Foul smells rarely get to you."

Greg didn't comment; he had started to shave a spot that required all his attention.

"Frankly," Gil said after a moment, "There were times when I thought there was something wrong with your sense of smell-"

"My sense of smell is fine." Greg said.

"I know it's fine," Gil nodded, "That's why I'm impressed by what happened today." He paused, "So, what's your secret?"

"Secret?"

"Do you put something in your nose or what?"

Greg smiled, but didn't answer.

"Greg?" Gil asked patiently, "Are you going to tell me what your secret is?"

"There's no secret." Greg said honestly, but he couldn't help adding, in a tone that was a bit too smug, "I've just had more experience in these matters, that's all."

"More experience?" Gil repeated, "What does that mean?"

Greg smiled.

"Now, don't be jealous," he teased.

"I'm not jealous," Gil replied, "But how can you have more experience than me?"

"Well..." Greg hesitated, and then he shrugged dismissively. He loved to pique Gil's curiosity.

...But Grissom didn't always have the patience.

"Greg-" he said in a warning tone.

Greg chuckled.

"Look, it's no big deal," he admitted, "In fact, you'd know what I'm talking about if you cleaned up your fridge only twice a year like I do."

"What does that mean?"

"Gil, have you ever opened a Tupperware container that's held steamed broccoli for six months? Or have you ever opened a plastic bag that reads Salami but only holds a greasy muck inside?"

Gil looked blankly at him.

Greg sighed.

"I forgot that you clean up your fridge every week-" He said, shaking his head. "Look, my point is, once you get used to the smell of six-month-old broccoli... nothing else will faze you."

"Broccoli?" Gil repeated skeptically.

"You don't believe me?" Greg smiled, "Maybe I should prove it to you." He said, "There are several Tupperware containers in my fridge; I should have cleaned them a long time ago," he admitted, "But as you know, I'm a CSI now, and my job absorbs most of my time."

He glanced at Gil, "It's not just the fact that I've acquired more responsibilities," he said, "or that I happen to have a very demanding boss; lately I've also been taking care of a very demanding boyfriend, and-"

Gil narrowed his eyes.

"Greg-"

"Ok, fine," Greg said, cutting his explanation short, "Bottom line is, I've got everything from leftover soups to meats in my fridge. Some of that stuff is really old -" Greg turned to the mirror again, "If you give me a minute, we'll conduct a little experiment on scents."

Gil leant on the doorway again, but now he couldn't wait to start the experiment.

"Are you done?" he kept asking, but Greg was checking out his sideburns. He always shaved too much from one side and then he had to even them out.

Gil ran out of patience.

"I'm going to take a look-" He said.

"Wait," Greg said. "I'm just going to finish this side-"

But Gil was already padding away.

Greg stayed in the bathroom, but he could hear Gil's comments as he entered the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"Greg, you're a slob, you know that?" Gil called out, "When was the last time you cleaned up in here?" He paused, "So, Tupperware containers... Ah, here they are-"

By the noises coming from the kitchen, it was obvious that Gil was removing the containers one by one and putting them on the kitchen counter.

Greg leaned out of the door.

"Hey, Gil?" Greg said, "Wait for me before you open them, ok?"

But Gil was impatient now.

"What about starting with a green container?" He asked.

"Dark green or light green?"

"What's the difference?"

"A big one," Greg called out, "The dark green has broccoli soup and-"

"So?" Gil replied, "How bad can it be?"

And then, just as Greg opened his mouth to warn him against opening that container, there was the distinctive sound of a lid popping out, and then-

"OH, MY G-" groaned Gil, "THIS IS-"

And then there was a horrible sound that could only mean that Gil was losing his cookies, to put it nicely.

Greg closed his eyes.

"Oh, grasshopper," He whispered, "You still weren't ready for the dark green." He dropped his razor and grabbed a towel, "COMING TO THE RESCUE, GIL!" he called out, and then he bolted out of the bathroom

The End

***