Potatoes
Title: Potatoes
Words: 541
Fandom: CSI:LV
A/N: A little bit of Greg/Grissom I wrote and forgot about. ^^
Gil Grissom did not normally fall asleep in front of the television.
Generally people used television as a means of escaping something that they didn't want to consider or confront. Some used it as comfort, a pattern, a time out from a busy week with old friends who were still predictable. Still more seemed to be genuinely interested in whether a person picked a certain suitcase, or if a group of people were ever going to get off an island.
Gil Grissom was not any of those people.
Then again, of course, he had to consider all the variables. It had been a long week. Longer than most, mentally and emotionally. Multiple cases of rape and child abuse, mixed with murder and suicide, were not conducive to a good night's sleep no matter who you are. As a matter of fact, he'd not slept well before that day's shift either, waking up at eight thirty at night when he had to be at work at midnight, and he hadn't been able to fall asleep until about ten.
Outside of those, there was the environment. Popcorn had been made, which inherently lent itself to movies and television, due to many decades of symbiotic partnership. Instead of turning on the VCR and actually watching the movie he'd rented some time long ago (he should probably check when it was due back, come to think of it), he turned on the TV. There had been a Jeopardy marathon. He settled onto the couch, intent on watching only one or two episodes.
That lead him into considering the couch and the various factors therein.
Greg leaning against him, pinning his arm to the couch, was one of them. In fact, he was the only couch-related variable if he didn't attempt to quantify the cushions. He might even be considered more of a cause than an effect, seeing as he was the one who had made the popcorn. Greg Sanders might even be viewed as the catalyst that had caused the couch sitting, Jeopardy watching, popcorn eating, sleep inducing symptoms.
And Greg Sanders did not exactly inspire normalcy in those subject to him for extended periods of time.
"Tudor!" He exclaimed through a mouthful of popcorn, pointing at the screen.
Grissom shook his head, feeling exhausted. "What is Tudor?"
"Wha'eva, I gah it fust."
"Doesn't matter. Wasn't in the form of a question."
Greg swallowed before attempting to speak again, thankfully. "You're just cranky that I'm winning."
"I'm cranky because you keep waking me-you're keeping score?"
"A little."
"Either you are or you aren't, Greg."
"Well, I'm winning."
"You're winning?"
"Slightly."
'A Rose By Any Other Name for four hundred, Alex."
"Shh! I'm good at these ones!"
"According to Greek myth, he gave a rose to Harpocrates to ward off gossip about his mother."
"Who is Eros?"
"Kelly."
"Who is Eros?"
"Correct!"
"Rose for eight hundred please."
"This term for secrecy comes from the Middle Ages, literally translating to 'under the Rose.'
"Sub ro-" Greg glanced up at Gil, before quickly adding, "What is sub rosa!"
"What is sub rosa?"
"Correct again."
"I'm good at this."
"You should try out."
"Nah. I've seen this one before."
"Well then. You should be winning by more than 'slightly.'"
Words: 541
Fandom: CSI:LV
A/N: A little bit of Greg/Grissom I wrote and forgot about. ^^
Gil Grissom did not normally fall asleep in front of the television.
Generally people used television as a means of escaping something that they didn't want to consider or confront. Some used it as comfort, a pattern, a time out from a busy week with old friends who were still predictable. Still more seemed to be genuinely interested in whether a person picked a certain suitcase, or if a group of people were ever going to get off an island.
Gil Grissom was not any of those people.
Then again, of course, he had to consider all the variables. It had been a long week. Longer than most, mentally and emotionally. Multiple cases of rape and child abuse, mixed with murder and suicide, were not conducive to a good night's sleep no matter who you are. As a matter of fact, he'd not slept well before that day's shift either, waking up at eight thirty at night when he had to be at work at midnight, and he hadn't been able to fall asleep until about ten.
Outside of those, there was the environment. Popcorn had been made, which inherently lent itself to movies and television, due to many decades of symbiotic partnership. Instead of turning on the VCR and actually watching the movie he'd rented some time long ago (he should probably check when it was due back, come to think of it), he turned on the TV. There had been a Jeopardy marathon. He settled onto the couch, intent on watching only one or two episodes.
That lead him into considering the couch and the various factors therein.
Greg leaning against him, pinning his arm to the couch, was one of them. In fact, he was the only couch-related variable if he didn't attempt to quantify the cushions. He might even be considered more of a cause than an effect, seeing as he was the one who had made the popcorn. Greg Sanders might even be viewed as the catalyst that had caused the couch sitting, Jeopardy watching, popcorn eating, sleep inducing symptoms.
And Greg Sanders did not exactly inspire normalcy in those subject to him for extended periods of time.
"Tudor!" He exclaimed through a mouthful of popcorn, pointing at the screen.
Grissom shook his head, feeling exhausted. "What is Tudor?"
"Wha'eva, I gah it fust."
"Doesn't matter. Wasn't in the form of a question."
Greg swallowed before attempting to speak again, thankfully. "You're just cranky that I'm winning."
"I'm cranky because you keep waking me-you're keeping score?"
"A little."
"Either you are or you aren't, Greg."
"Well, I'm winning."
"You're winning?"
"Slightly."
'A Rose By Any Other Name for four hundred, Alex."
"Shh! I'm good at these ones!"
"According to Greek myth, he gave a rose to Harpocrates to ward off gossip about his mother."
"Who is Eros?"
"Kelly."
"Who is Eros?"
"Correct!"
"Rose for eight hundred please."
"This term for secrecy comes from the Middle Ages, literally translating to 'under the Rose.'
"Sub ro-" Greg glanced up at Gil, before quickly adding, "What is sub rosa!"
"What is sub rosa?"
"Correct again."
"I'm good at this."
"You should try out."
"Nah. I've seen this one before."
"Well then. You should be winning by more than 'slightly.'"