A Dirty Word by Python [ - ]
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Category: CSI - Slashed > Gil/other male
Characters: Gil Grissom, Jim Brass
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Drabble, Humour
Warnings: None

Summary: Gil/Jim -- Gil's not a happy camper and Jim has to find out why -- answer to one word challenge using "douchebag"

Jim Brass hated paperwork. After so long on the job, he figured that he should have been used to it. But every time he turned around, there seemed to be more of it. More red tape. More bullshit designed to drive him insane. There were some days when he was more in danger of a paper cut then any bodily injury.

At least, it was almost time to go home. He heard a familiar tread walk into his office. He didn't bother looking up. "Hey, Gil," he greeted.

Gil Grissom dropped into one of the chairs in front of Jim's desk. "Hey," he replied rather absently.

Jim looked up and studied Gil for a long moment. He recognized the look of intense, disturbed concentration on Gil's face. "What is it?"

Gil started and shrugged. "Nothing."

Jim dropped his pen and sat back in his seat. "Don't give me that."

Gil's brow furrowed. "It's nothing. It really shouldn't bother me."

"Come on. Just spill it."

Gil stared at the floor. "Vartann brought in our suspect today."

"Yeah. Tony said he wasn't very cooperative," Jim replied dryly.

"That's putting it mildly." Gil swallowed. He shook his head, clearly annoyed with himself. "It's not that I've never been insulted before."

Jim smirked. "It's a hazard of the job. What did he call you that's got you so worked up?"

Gil's face flushed. "Douchebag," he muttered.

Jim couldn't believe Gil was blushing. He covered his mouth to hide a smile. "Oh."

"It's just..." Gil's voice trailed off and he shuddered. "Disgusting."

Jim snickered quietly behind his hand. "Out of all the nasty things we've been called, this is the one that bothers you."

Gil sat up straighter. "The word can refer to the rinsing of any body cavity but usually applies to vaginal irrigation." He blanched. "Just thinking about that..."

Jim bit his tongue. He felt the flush in his own face from trying not to laugh. He took a deep breath. "I can see your point," he said mildly.

Gil glared. "It's not funny, Jim."

Jim put his hands up. "No, it's not," he agreed but his voice cracked.

"Jim," Gil warned.

Jim tried to sound reasonable. "Just think about it for a minute, Gil. Try to take a step back from it. Couldn't this be just a little funny?"

Gil continued to glare. "You're as bad as Catherine."

Jim sighed and stood up. He crossed to Gil's side of the desk. He tried to look suitably contrite. "It's almost time for the end of shift. Let's get out of here and I'll help you forget all about it."

The glare disappeared as Gil stared up at Jim. Finally, a small smile slipped through. He stood up and whispered, "I was thinking about making you sleep on the couch, but I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself."

"You're too kind." Jim inclined his head and pointed for Gil to precede him. "After you."

"Thank you. And I still say it's disgusting," Gil muttered and headed towards the door.

Jim just laughed and followed.