Clothes, clothes, and more clothes
Title: Charity is the Best Policy
Challenge: The Clothing Challenge from ngchallenge
Rating: PG-13ish?
Pairing: Nick/Greg (CSI)
Warnings/Spoilers: I don't think so. Follows on (roughly) after Ringtones.
Summary: Greg is cleaning out his closet
Greg walked into the lab only to be greeted by Catherine, "Hey, Greg. You look much better."
"Thanks," he answered as he hauled a large black bin liner across the room. He noted the various brown bags left by field CSIs already piling up on his table. It was a mighty big pile of backlog and part of the reason why Grissom pulled him out of the field to help in the lab.
"So, you've got this thing sorted then... you know, between you and Nick?"
"Yeah."
"What's that?" Catherine asked, eyeing the plastic bag suspiciously.
"Clothes," he rooted around the corner and came out with a t-shirt. "Hah! Found it!"
"Your clothes?"
"Last time I checked," he opened the bag and threw the t-shirt in.
"You moved out of Nick's house?"
Greg looked up and stared at Catherine as if she'd grown an extra mouth, "No~. Of course not. Why would I do that? This is for Mrs Renshaw."
Catherine knitted her eyebrows. She heard that name somewhere but couldn't exactly place it, "Who?"
"Mrs Renshaw. From the Mission. She came into the office last week, asking for clothes donation," Greg said, filling up the blanks. "You've got stuff for me?"
"Yeah," she held out her brown paper bag.
"Well, join the queue," Greg pointed to the pile of backlog. "Unless it's very important. You know, like your life depended on it."
"Not, really. But, it'll be nice if I can get it before end of business."
"Sure," Greg nodded. He was the lab-personnel-extraordinaire anyway. "First, I need to pop this in the locker. I'll be back before you know it." He walked out, fully aware that Catherine was tagging casually behind him. What was it with these people nowadays? Don't they have crimes to direct their nosy noses at? Of course there were a lot of crime. The lab table was creaking under all the weight. Unfortunately, as Jacqui said some time ago, "There's always time for a juicy gossip."
Women! he wanted to say. Not out loud of course, and definitely not in the company of women CSIs. Greg was sure they were all well-versed in the art of hiding a body.
---
Nick was in the locker room chatting with Warrick when Greg walked in. He saw the black plastic bag in Greg's hands and winced. "You're still giving those clothes away?"
"Yeah."
Warrick was already by Greg's side, extricating the bag out of Greg's fingers, "Lots of clothes here."
"Didn't do much good to the wardrobe though. We still need to get a new wardrobe," Greg said, looking at Nick who had a pained look on his face. "We need to go cupboard shopping very soon."
"Your clothes aren't exactly clothes for the homeless, you know," Warrick said as he opened the bag and tipped the contents onto the floor.
"Now, that's just rude," Greg said.
"No, seriously. 'I drink, therefore I am'? Not exactly one t-shirt you would give to an an alcoholic on rehab. Not good for the image."
Catherine picked out a pair of ripped jeans, "Not exactly the jeans you'd give to a homeless guy. I'm sure they've already got plenty."
Warrick held out a black mesh shirt gingerly as if it was radioactive, shook his head and grimaced. Nick grimaced too, but for a markedly different reason than his colleague. "Greg! You're giving this away?" He snatched the mesh shirt from Warricks' fingers and brandished it in front of Greg's face, much to the amusement of Catherine and Warrick. "I happen to like this on you."
Greg winced. "It's old. I bought a new one," he smiled, taking the shirt off Nick and replacing it in the bag. "We need to schedule a day out, so I can wear it. Yeah, we'll go out for a new cupboard then go clubbing. That'll be a perfect day."
Catherine pointed at a pile of boxer briefs, "I can't imagine a homeless guy slipping into boxer briefs."
"I can't imagine it either. But then again, I've never seen a homeless guy stripteasing, so I wouldn't know," Greg said as he placed all the pieces of clothes back in the bag. Nick looked up at the mention of 'boxer briefs' and paled.
"Greg! They're mine!"
"And they're old," Greg said. "We'll go out and buy some more."
"I happen to like them. They're comfortable!"
"I know," Greg smiled. "I've been in them enough to tell. But that's not the point. They're old."
Nick wasn't quite listening, as he busied himself picking out his boxers from the midst of Greg's debris. "You're throwing most of them out! What am I supposed to wear until we can get new ones? I'm taking these."
Greg snatched them back, "No, they're going to a charitable cause! Nick, surely you're not depriving them of decent clothes!"
Warrick snorted and glanced at Catherine who mouthed, decent?
"But you're depriving me of my clothes!"
"Well, I happen to like you deprived. Of clothes that is." Greg winked.
"Oi!" Warrick cut in. "Audience, here..."
Greg and Nick turned sharply. Crap! Greg wanted to say. How stupid can he be? Warrick and Catherine knew, but anyone could have walked in. Anyone. Like Sofia, for example.
"Hey!" Sofia said, as she walked in and headed straight to her locker. "That's a lot of clothes..."
"Yeah, for Mrs Renshaw's clothes donation drive thing," said Greg.
"Oh yes. The woman from the Mission," Sofia said. "So, whose clothes are these?"
"Greg's," Warrick and Catherine answered simultaneously.
"Oh. Didn't peg Greg as a boxer briefs person."
Nick paled and Greg groaned, "Don't ask."
---
---
Challenge: The Clothing Challenge from ngchallenge
Rating: PG-13ish?
Pairing: Nick/Greg (CSI)
Warnings/Spoilers: I don't think so. Follows on (roughly) after Ringtones.
Summary: Greg is cleaning out his closet
Greg walked into the lab only to be greeted by Catherine, "Hey, Greg. You look much better."
"Thanks," he answered as he hauled a large black bin liner across the room. He noted the various brown bags left by field CSIs already piling up on his table. It was a mighty big pile of backlog and part of the reason why Grissom pulled him out of the field to help in the lab.
"So, you've got this thing sorted then... you know, between you and Nick?"
"Yeah."
"What's that?" Catherine asked, eyeing the plastic bag suspiciously.
"Clothes," he rooted around the corner and came out with a t-shirt. "Hah! Found it!"
"Your clothes?"
"Last time I checked," he opened the bag and threw the t-shirt in.
"You moved out of Nick's house?"
Greg looked up and stared at Catherine as if she'd grown an extra mouth, "No~. Of course not. Why would I do that? This is for Mrs Renshaw."
Catherine knitted her eyebrows. She heard that name somewhere but couldn't exactly place it, "Who?"
"Mrs Renshaw. From the Mission. She came into the office last week, asking for clothes donation," Greg said, filling up the blanks. "You've got stuff for me?"
"Yeah," she held out her brown paper bag.
"Well, join the queue," Greg pointed to the pile of backlog. "Unless it's very important. You know, like your life depended on it."
"Not, really. But, it'll be nice if I can get it before end of business."
"Sure," Greg nodded. He was the lab-personnel-extraordinaire anyway. "First, I need to pop this in the locker. I'll be back before you know it." He walked out, fully aware that Catherine was tagging casually behind him. What was it with these people nowadays? Don't they have crimes to direct their nosy noses at? Of course there were a lot of crime. The lab table was creaking under all the weight. Unfortunately, as Jacqui said some time ago, "There's always time for a juicy gossip."
Women! he wanted to say. Not out loud of course, and definitely not in the company of women CSIs. Greg was sure they were all well-versed in the art of hiding a body.
---
Nick was in the locker room chatting with Warrick when Greg walked in. He saw the black plastic bag in Greg's hands and winced. "You're still giving those clothes away?"
"Yeah."
Warrick was already by Greg's side, extricating the bag out of Greg's fingers, "Lots of clothes here."
"Didn't do much good to the wardrobe though. We still need to get a new wardrobe," Greg said, looking at Nick who had a pained look on his face. "We need to go cupboard shopping very soon."
"Your clothes aren't exactly clothes for the homeless, you know," Warrick said as he opened the bag and tipped the contents onto the floor.
"Now, that's just rude," Greg said.
"No, seriously. 'I drink, therefore I am'? Not exactly one t-shirt you would give to an an alcoholic on rehab. Not good for the image."
Catherine picked out a pair of ripped jeans, "Not exactly the jeans you'd give to a homeless guy. I'm sure they've already got plenty."
Warrick held out a black mesh shirt gingerly as if it was radioactive, shook his head and grimaced. Nick grimaced too, but for a markedly different reason than his colleague. "Greg! You're giving this away?" He snatched the mesh shirt from Warricks' fingers and brandished it in front of Greg's face, much to the amusement of Catherine and Warrick. "I happen to like this on you."
Greg winced. "It's old. I bought a new one," he smiled, taking the shirt off Nick and replacing it in the bag. "We need to schedule a day out, so I can wear it. Yeah, we'll go out for a new cupboard then go clubbing. That'll be a perfect day."
Catherine pointed at a pile of boxer briefs, "I can't imagine a homeless guy slipping into boxer briefs."
"I can't imagine it either. But then again, I've never seen a homeless guy stripteasing, so I wouldn't know," Greg said as he placed all the pieces of clothes back in the bag. Nick looked up at the mention of 'boxer briefs' and paled.
"Greg! They're mine!"
"And they're old," Greg said. "We'll go out and buy some more."
"I happen to like them. They're comfortable!"
"I know," Greg smiled. "I've been in them enough to tell. But that's not the point. They're old."
Nick wasn't quite listening, as he busied himself picking out his boxers from the midst of Greg's debris. "You're throwing most of them out! What am I supposed to wear until we can get new ones? I'm taking these."
Greg snatched them back, "No, they're going to a charitable cause! Nick, surely you're not depriving them of decent clothes!"
Warrick snorted and glanced at Catherine who mouthed, decent?
"But you're depriving me of my clothes!"
"Well, I happen to like you deprived. Of clothes that is." Greg winked.
"Oi!" Warrick cut in. "Audience, here..."
Greg and Nick turned sharply. Crap! Greg wanted to say. How stupid can he be? Warrick and Catherine knew, but anyone could have walked in. Anyone. Like Sofia, for example.
"Hey!" Sofia said, as she walked in and headed straight to her locker. "That's a lot of clothes..."
"Yeah, for Mrs Renshaw's clothes donation drive thing," said Greg.
"Oh yes. The woman from the Mission," Sofia said. "So, whose clothes are these?"
"Greg's," Warrick and Catherine answered simultaneously.
"Oh. Didn't peg Greg as a boxer briefs person."
Nick paled and Greg groaned, "Don't ask."
---
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