"I'm busy. I have to leave in about," Nick paused to look at his watch, "Five minutes, give or take."
"But it's not healthy."
Nick looked at his food, and then spared an incredulous glance to Greg. "Says the guy who goes down on chocolate milk and those sweeter than sweet strawberry rolls."
"For your misinformed mind, I drink chocolate soy milk." Greg was exaggerating in his motions as he made a point to show Nick the small carton in the trash bin, which was indeed once full of chocolate soy milk. "And at least I'm not an apple whore."
"It's better than being a sweet junkie. Bent on chocolate crème concoctions."
"I eat celery sometimes, too. Unlike some of us, I have a little variety in my life." Greg made a move to defend himself, pointing at the reddish fruit in Nick's hand. "And that's all I see you eat around here."
"I don't have to prove myself to you." With one hand, Nick gripped the back of Greg's chair, careful not to make it swivel.
"I bet you have orchard trees in your backyard. A different one for each kind of apple." Greg began to count off on with his fingers. "The McIntosh, Granny Smith, Red Delicious…"
"Hey man, I eat more than apples." Pleasantly miffed, Nick distanced himself from Greg's chair, once more supporting his own weight. "And besides, how do you know? It's not like you live with me or anything."
"I just do. Apples are the core of your existence."
"Are those lame jokes the best you can come up with?"
"You probably have posters in your room. And fruit porn of peeled apples on your hard drive."
"Ugh." Nick looked at him, shaking his head in either amusement or repulsion. Greg wasn't really sure which so he dubbed the look repulsed amusement. "Man…That's just sick."
"I'm not the one looking at the stems and the seeds."
Nick did his best to rid himself of the horrible imagery brought to mind. Restraining from throwing his apple in the trash with the soy milk, he decided to bring the conversation in a more conservative direction. "What about last week? Doesn't that count?"
"We were not in the lab. And you only ate that steak at the restaurant because I was there." Greg looked disapprovingly at Nick. "It was a farce."
"Nick." Nick and Greg both turned to see Grissom standing impatiently beneath the doorframe of the lab. "The scene isn't going to process itself." Wearing a patronising look that was somehow less so because it was Grissom. "You and Greg can talk later. Off my time."
"Coming, Griss." Nick turned to Greg, Grissom's exit in his peripheral vision. "See this," He took a quick bite of the fruit, "Is where apples come in handy. Grab-and-go, man." Nick waved his half-eaten McIntosh in front of Greg. "We're still on for tonight? Because I probably won't get a chance to see you until then."
"Yeah, I'm going to try to get you off your fruticious fix."
"Fruticious isn't even-"
"Nick." They both heard the faint call, echoing into the room.
Greg turned to Nick. "Hurry up before Grissom suspends you because his maggots are turning into flies."
"Still at seven?" Nick looked nervously at Greg. "I know our first date wasn't that great but-"
"Nick." Greg sighed, exasperated at the other man's insecurity. He pulled Nick down to his level, their faces partially hidden by the microscopes. He looked around quickly to make sure they weren't seen, or at least his actions wouldn't be too obvious through the glass walls.
"Here." Greg gave Nick a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Would you go, now?" He whispered anxiously, the tips of his ears becoming pink. Embarrassed at the fact that he took such a risk at work.
"Yeah." Nick stood up, a slight blush on his cheeks as a large smile threatened to overcome his face. "I'm going."
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. There. I said it.