CSI Fic: Thou Shalt Not Cook - Part 2
Title: Thou Shalt Not Cook - Part 2
Author: Jedi Princess Clarrisani
Beta and Co-conspirator: Stalker of Shadows
Dedication: For
piratekitten and
puppytraining
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Nick/Greg
Warnings: N/A
Setting: Season 5 - between ‘No Humans Involved’ and ‘Who Shot Sherlock’
Summary: Nick and Greg set out to cook their first Christmas dinner as a couple, and the lab is betting against them…
Disclaimer: Do not own. If I did, there would be a lot more scenes of Nick and Greg together… in more ways than one…
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Nick let the way back into the kitchen, snagging the recipe up off the bench and checking over it so that he could remember where they were up to. They went back to work, Nick glancing up and spotting the pout on Greg’s lips - the younger probably didn’t even realise that he was doing it.
Sighing, Nick plucked up a cherry and pressed it against Greg’s pout. Greg smirked, taking it from Nick’s fingers and chewing. Nick smiled plucking up another, this time Greg catching Nick’s fingers between his lips and sucking. Nick fought the shuddering breath that would betray his arousal - he’d meant it when he said no fun and games.
Nick lost count of how many cherries they went through. He was completely enthralled by those pink lips closing around his fingers; that tongue brushing over his skin. It was probably a very bad idea to be feeding Greg all these sugary fruit and Nick knew he would pay for it later, but right now he didn’t care. It was all he could do to keep from dragging Greg over to the couch and letting Greg show him all the other wicked things those lips and tongue could do…
Nick was in the process of holding out another cherry to Greg when his phone rang, Nick jumping and turning sharply toward it only to hear a yelp. Nick’s eyes widened as he saw Greg holding his eye, Nick now facing a moral dilemma: comfort the boyfriend whom he had just almost poked the eye out of, or answer the phone.
He decided to compromise. Wrapping one arm around Greg’s shoulders and pulling him to him, he reached for the phone with the other hand. “Stokes.”
“Oh, hey Nick. I was just calling to see if you’ve burnt the kitchen down yet.”
“Great, Sara.” Nick smiled tightly, planting a kiss on Greg’s temple. “No, we haven’t, and we’re not going to.”
“Yeah, well the odds at the lab are 10 to 1 that you do, 20 to 1 that you burn down the whole house, and 25 to 1 that you’re both still in it when it burns.”
“Yeah, well you know what the odds are of lab bets being right.”
Sara laughed.
“So,” Nick said as Greg rested his head on his shoulder, head tilted as he listened in. “What are the odds that we actually pull this off?”
“Off the scale. No one’s even dared put money on that.” She paused. “Well, not quite true. Grissom says you might produce at least one thing that’s edible. He wouldn’t go into detail about what it was, though, but from what he was saying I think it was the chocolate sauce.”
Greg snorted, reaching up to rub his eye again. “If that’s all we end up with at least we’ll have a use for it.”
Nick chuckled, grinning and winking at him.
“I heard that,” Sara said. “Greg, I know you can hear me. It’s rude to listen in on other people’s conversations, you know.”
“Don’t think he much cares,” Nick said, planting a soft kiss on Greg’s lips that Greg returned just as briefly. “So how are things going?”
“I’ve given up. I took one look at what I had to do and decided to stick with a microwave turkey dinner with vegetables that I had in the freezer.”
“And you’re saying we can’t do it.”
“Hey, I never said I could do it. It’s just that you and Greg are too stubborn to know when to give up.” She chuckled. “So, have you tried to rip each others throats out yet?”
“No.” Nick frowned. “We’ve had a couple of minor mishaps, but everything’s fine. Pudding’s on the stove, chickens in the microwave and we’re working on the Christmas cake-”
“Wait a minute, chicken? I thought you were having a turkey.”
“We, eh…” Nick frowned. “We kinda forgot to buy the turkey.”
Sara burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s priceless. Greg’s been fretting for the last week about buying everything. Although he did say that it would be just like you to forget the turkey.”
“Did he now.” Nick caught hold of Greg’s belt as the other tried to slink away. “Hang on, I thought you couldn’t eat meat.”
“Beef, lamb, veal, pork, bacon. I have no problem with fish, chicken and other white meat. And I still have turkey at Christmas.”
“Mm-hm.” Nick tightened his grip on Greg as the younger tried to squirm away. “Looking forward to work tonight?”
“What do you think?” Sara sighed heavily. “It would be nice if criminals took a holiday. Instead, they make it our busiest time of the year.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it.” Nick smiled. “Why I’ve been hanging out for my Christmas off.”
“And I totally envy you. And I’m really pissed off at Greg for getting this year off too.”
“Yeah, well you should have sucked up to Grissom a little sooner.” Nick chuckled. “Greg’s been begging since the team split. And you know what Grissom’s like when Greg begs.”
“He caves just to shut him up.” Sara sighed. “Well, I better get going. I want to get some sleep in before shift, and my meals done. Oh, and just so you know I have the police scanner on. I’ll be listening for the call out for the fire.”
“We are not going to burn down the kitchen.”
“Yeah. Right. Bye guys.”
“Bye Sara.” Nick hung up the phone before turning to scrutinise Greg, the younger widening his eyes and fluttering long eyelashes innocently. Sighing, Nick slid his arms around Greg’s waist and forced an unamused look onto his face. “So it would be just like me to forget the turkey, mm?”
“Well, you did.” Greg leaned against him, hands starting on Nick’s hips and moving around to cup his behind, squeezing. “So, what? You don’t like the fact that I can predict what you’re going to do?”
“I don’t like the fact you have no faith in me.”
“Nick, outside of the lab, you tend to become forgetful.” Greg shrugged. “It’s like suspects, evidence - they take up 99% of your brain space. When it’s not connected to a case, you forget.”
“Right.” Nick narrowed his eyes. “Have I ever forgotten one of our dates?”
Greg’s lips formed a fine line. “You really want me to answer that?”
Nick blinked. “When.”
“On second thought, forget I asked. I’m not answering.”
“No, seriously. When?”
“Nick…”
“I’m not kidding, G.”
“More than once, and let’s leave it at that.” Greg stepped back and out of Nick’s arms, turning toward the counter. “Let’s get this cake done and in the oven.”
Nick eyed him, knowing that Greg was avoiding the answer to the question. He was making no secret of his avoidance either, and Nick knew that once they had finished up he was going to dig out his schedule and try and work out exactly which dates he had forgotten. And if he had forgotten them, he had to respect Greg for not holding it against him. That man knew him too well.
“Okay, we’ll finish the cake.” Nick picked up the recipe again, noting they only had a couple more things to do and smiling. “Get this done and we’ll be able to start on the vegetables. By the time we get those on and done the chicken will be finished.”
“Good, because I’m hungry.” Greg rubbed his hands together. “So what’s next?”
“Gotta add the cherries.” Nick put down the recipe and picked up the measuring cup, reaching for the bag of cherries only to start. “Um, G… exactly how many cherries did you eat?”
“As many as you gave me.” Greg looked at Nick. “Half a bag, evidently.”
“Mm-hm.” Nick sighed, tipping the cherries into the cup and noting that they were short of the specified amount. “We’ll just have to make do with less cherries. Unless I have some in a cupboard somewhere.”
“No way I’m digging through your cupboards, man.” Greg shook his head fiercely. “I probably contracted some rare mutating disease just from looking in your fridge. Your cupboards would probably kill me.”
“My fridge is not that bad.”
“Wanna bet?”
Nick suppressed the amused smile, handing Greg the cup of cherries and watching as Greg added them and mixed them through. They continued working steadily, and it wasn’t long before they stood back and sighed, looking at the oven as it began the process of cooking their cake.
“So now what?”
Nick glanced at him. “Dishes, then vegies.”
Greg returned the glance. “I say we let the dishes wait for the dishwasher. It’s not like we’re in a hurry to use them again.”
“True.” Nick smirked. “You could always just open the door and-”
“Nick, drop it.”
Nick laughed, gathering up the dishes and setting them aside to be put in the dishwasher later. “Let’s get the vegetables done so we can kick back for a while and let everything cook.”
“Works for me.”
While Nick had forgotten the turkey, he had made sure to buy all the vegetables. Handing off the potatoes to Greg, Nick began to peel and cut up the carrots. Dropping them into a pot and adding water, Nick set them on the stove, turning back and starting as he looked at Greg.
“What the hell?”
Greg looked up, blinking innocently. “What?”
Nick pointed toward the potato in Greg’s hand. “What are you doing?”
“What, this?” Greg grinned, finishing what he was doing and adding the potato to the others. “I figured that since it was Christmas, it would be kinda nice to have Christmas tree shaped potatoes.”
“Right…” Nick sighed, shaking his head. “And if we mash them-”
“Which we won’t.” Greg shot him a firm look. “Christmas dinner is a roast, Nicky. Roast potatoes. They’re cooked in fat, not water, and no mashing.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Nick chuckled as he picked up the pumpkin. “That would mean sticking them in the oven with the Christmas cake.”
“So?” Greg shrugged. “The ovens already warm and there is another shelf in there. Not like there’s a rule saying you can only cook one thing at a time.”
Nick frowned, gesturing toward the microwave. “Then why…”
“Because it has to cook at a different temperature.” Greg shrugged, nodding toward the pumpkin. ‘You should make Christmas bells.”
“Waste of time, G. Pumpkin goes soft and they would lose their shape.”
“Fair enough.” Greg finished another potato, adding it to the stack and tossing the spare pieces into a pile. “I saw we roast the little bits too. They can be presents.”
Nick chuckled, shaking his head as he sliced the pumpkin. “You never get bored with you, Greg.”
Greg grinned, looking up and tossing him a wink as he started on the last potato. “Good to know.”
Nick sliced the pumpkin, tossing it into a pot and watching as Greg set the potatoes into an oven dish, preparing them for roasting. Nick added water to his pot and put it on the stove beside the carrots and pudding, then dug out another pot to add the corn and pea mix. He set them down on the stove and turned on the heat. He glanced across to see Greg closing the oven door, tossing the oven mitt down onto the counter.
“Do you hear that?”
Greg glanced back over his shoulder. “Hear what?”
“The crackling.” Nick glanced around, following the noise toward the microwave. He glanced inside at the rotating chicken and frowned. “It’s coming from here.”
Greg moved to join him, listening for a moment and shrugging. “Most likely just the marrow in the bones. Haven’t you ever nuked a chicken before?”
Nick shook his head. “You?”
“All the time. Buy a cold chicken from the supermarket and it does me for a couple of meals.” Greg moved back to the counter and began clearing the scraps. “Chicken and mayo rolls, chicken salad, nuke it if I want warm chicken legs…”
Nick shook his head, watching his boyfriend with wonder. “And you say you can’t cook.”
“Hey, I can cook.” Greg shrugged. “Just never cooked anything as complicated as Christmas dinner.”
“Ah.” Nick nodded, holding out the bin as Greg dumped the scraps into it. “So what’s the next plan, boss.”
Greg grinned, looking up at him. “Gravy and chocolate sauce.”
Nick blinked. “Huh?”
“Gravy for the chicken, chocolate sauce for the pudding and cake.” Greg paused. “Unless you want custard.”
“No, chocolate sauce is fine.” Nick frowned. “Just don’t see how we’re going to cook them, that’s all.”
“Oven. There’s still room in there. All we need to do is warm them up.”
“Right.” Nick spied the containers of ready made gravy and chocolate sauce. Greg was certainly more prepared for this than him - Nick had forgotten all about the gravy. Nick searched out two more oven friendly containers and handed one to Greg, Nick picking up the chocolate sauce and spotting the look Greg gave him. “Only way we’ll end up with any sauce in the oven is for me to get it ready, G. You’d probably drink it straight from the carton.”
“O ye of little faith.” Greg smiled, picking up the gravy and pouring it into the other container. “I was going to wait until it was warm. Tastes better.”
Nick chuckled. “Okay, fair enough. Remind me not to let you anywhere near the hot chocolate sauce. Can’t have you burning your tongue.”
“Oh?” Greg shot him a sly look as he opened the oven and set the gravy inside. “Don’t want my tongue injured, hm?”
“You know I don’t.” Nick joined him, placing the chocolate sauce in beside the gravy and stepping back as Greg shut the door. “Considering how talented it is.”
“Really.” Greg moved passed him, trailing a finger along Nick’s jaw before tapping him once under the chin, throwing a flirtatious look back over his shoulder. “Once we clean up I’ll have to show you exactly how talented it is.”
“Oh, I know how talented it is.” Nick moved up behind where Greg was stacking up the dishes, Nick planting his hands on the counter on either side of Greg’s hips and leaning against his back, brushing a kiss to the nape of Greg’s neck. He pressed his lips to Greg’s ear, hearing the other’s shuddering breath as Greg pushed back against him. “I’ll let you remind me, though.”
“Keep talking like that and we’ll never get cleaned up,” Greg said as he straightened, tilting his head to look back at Nick. “You are so damned hot, Nicky.”
“Mm-hm.” Nick reached passed him, picking up the cutting boards and knives and stepping back toward the sink. “Guess we better get cleaned up quick then.”
Greg moved tentatively toward the now silent dishwasher, carefully opening the front a crack, then opening it all the way and removing the cleaned dishes. He set them aside, then helped Nick to load the dishwasher again. Once done they dried off the washed dishes, Nick frowning as his phone rang. Sighing, he moved toward it and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Oh hi there, Nick. Take it your house is still in one piece.”
Nick sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. “What do you want, Hodges?”
Greg rolled his eyes, going back to drying and putting the plates away.
“I just thought I might call to check up on you. The fact that you answered means that Sanders hasn’t cut any of your fingers off yet.”
“Hodges, I’ll have you know that Greg is a better cook than I am.”
“Ah. So I should be asking if you’ve cut any of his fingers off. No loss if you have.”
Nick shook his head, leaning against the counter and sighing. “Does your call have anything to do with the bet going at the lab?”
“Oh, you know about that.”
“Sara told me.”
“Ah. That would explain why David was on the phone earlier.”
“Mm-hm.” Nick rolled his eyes toward Greg and saw the other grin. “No, we haven’t burnt the kitchen down, and we both still have our limbs. Happy?”
“No not really. I was wagering that you’d burn the house down with yourselves still in it.”
“Great. Great, Hodges, thanks.” Nick set his jaw, forcing back the brief flash of annoyance. Hodges always knew how to get in under his skin. Nick paused as he went to answer, noting the increasing crackling and looking up toward Greg. Greg had stopped what he was doing, cautiously setting down a bowl and turning to look at the microwave. Nick put a hand over the receiver. “Should it be that loud?”
Greg glanced at him. “I’ve never heard it as loud as that before.”
“Greg, turn it off.”
Greg nodded, taking a step toward the microwave. A loud pop/bang echoed through the kitchen, causing them both to shy back. Greg straightened, stepping quickly toward the microwave and grabbing the power cord, tugging it from the wall and plunging them into almost silence, broken only by their breathing and the bubbling of the pots on the stove.
“What was that?” Hodges voice sounded muffled and intrusive. “Did you guys just blow up the kitchen? Nick?”
Nick didn’t reply, hitting the END button and putting the phone down. He cautiously moved across to where Greg stood staring at the microwave, the two exchanging a quick look before Nick reached out, opening the door. Small pieces of meat, oil and fat ran down the door, dropping onto the floor as they took in what had formerly been known as a whole chicken. Nick sighed heavily, briefly wondering what they had done to deserve this.
“Well,” Greg said, smiling sheepishly. “At least we don’t have to worry about cutting it up.”
“Nice.” Nick reached behind him to the counter, picking up a spatula and turning back to the microwave to begin scrapping down the walls. “I thought you said it was safe to microwave a chicken.”
“It is. I’ve never had this happen.” Greg paused. “Of course, the chicken was never frozen. And I’ve never cooked it for this long.”
“Mm-hm.” Nick watched as Greg reached for a clean bowl and held it out, Nick scraping the chicken into it. “I can think of two reasons why it did it. One, the stuffing overheated and expanded, and once pressure built up it caused the outer layer to explode.”
“If it was the stuffing the chicken would have just split,” Greg said, stealing a piece of chicken and popping it in his mouth.
“Which brings me to theory number two - the bones exploded. We’ve been listening to them crackle for some time and the crackling became louder before the explosion.” Nick shot Greg a glare at the younger stole another piece of chicken. “Bones fracture when exposed to extreme heat, and them exploding would cause this mess. Not to mention the bones are splintered.”
“The microwave wouldn’t have been hot enough.” Greg glanced into the aforementioned cooking device. “The chicken was only cooking on medium heat after all.”
Nick winced. “Yeah.”
“Nick…” Greg met his gaze, narrowing his eyes as he gestured to the microwave. “You had that on high, didn’t you.”
Nick sighed and nodded. “Figured that since it was frozen it would thaw it out quicker.”
“Once it thawed you should have stopped it and put in on medium heat.” Greg took the spatula from Nick’s hand and began scooping up chunks of chicken aiguillettes. “Well, it’s cooked and still edible if you’re careful of the bones.”
“Guess we’ll have to make do.” Nick looked toward the vegetables. “They shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Well, if we stick the chicken in the oven and clean the microwave, it’ll keep the chicken warm and give the vegies time to cook.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Greg carefully scraped out the interior of the microwave, Nick going back to drying and putting away the last of the dishes. Greg scraped out as much chicken as he could before setting the bowl in the tiny space left in the oven before the two of them tackled the cleaning - Nick cleaned the interior of the microwave and hand washed the plate, while Greg cleaned the floor where bits of chicken had dropped onto it.
“Vegetables need another five minutes, I reckon,” Nick said, peeking inside one of the pots. “How are the potatoes?”
Greg opened the oven, picking up an oven mitt and lifting the lid off the dish. “About the same. They’re looking good.”
“Great.” Nick glanced at his watch. “Grab the chicken out, G. We might as well snack on it while we wait.”
Greg grinned, picking up the chicken and moving it back to the counter. Nick tossed another mitt down onto the surface for Greg to sit it on. Greg headed back to the oven, pausing and looking inside. “Shouldn’t we set the table?”
“In a minute.” Nick picked up a piece of chicken and nibbled on it. It wasn’t that bad. He looked back as Greg closed the oven, returning with the gravy. Nick pushed the chicken bowl toward him so that Greg could pour some over the fine pieces - if there was one thing they shared in taste, they both loved gravy on their chicken.
Greg poured enough over the chicken to cover the topmost layer, setting the pot down and reaching for a piece, Nick quickly reached for another, popping it into his mouth with a smile. His eyes widened as soon as it hit his tongue, Nick shooting Greg a sharp look as he saw the thoughtful look Greg was casting the gravy.
“Greg!” Nick swallowed hard. “That was the chocolate sauce!”
“Not that bad, actually.” Greg picked up another piece of chicken, dipping it into the sauce and popping it in his mouth. He shot Nick a grin and a wink. “You know, we could start a trend. Chicken a la chocolate. It’ll be all the rage next Christmas.”
“It shouldn’t have happened this Christmas.” Nick pointed at the oven. “How can you mix them up?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Greg shrugged. “Maybe it was the fact they were in identical bowls on the same shelf and they got mixed up when I put the chicken in there.”
“Great. Just… great.” Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve ruined the chicken.”
“Speak for yourself. I like it.”
“Yeah, you would.” Nick shook his head, looking toward the stove. “Now we’ve got vegetables and no meat.”
“Nicky, it’s not that bad.” Greg looked up at him through long lashes. “I didn’t put that much sauce on. If we carefully take off the top layer the rest should be fine.”
“Greg,” Nick turned to meet his eye. “We blew up the chicken. Then we put chocolate sauce on it.”
Greg shrugged. “Could be worse.”
“Don’t say that.” Nick winced. “You’ll jinx us.”
Greg waved it off, reaching for another chocolate coated piece of chicken. Nick rolled his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing heavily. He glanced up at the sound of his phone, internally swearing that if it was Hodges again, he was going to skin the man alive next shift. No doubt everyone would thank him for it too.
Picking up the phone, Nick prepared himself. “Hello.”
“Hey, man. I hear you blew up your kitchen.”
Nick sighed, leaning back against the counter. “We did not blow up the kitchen, Rick.”
“Not what the rumour mill says.” Warrick chuckled. “I heard it from Catherine, who heard it from Jacqui, who heard it from Bobby… you know how it goes.”
“It all came from Hodges,” Nick pointed out, “and you know how reliable he is.”
“Yeah.” There was a brief pause. “Still good for me to come over? Or are you and Greggo wanting time to yourselves?”
“No, you’re good. If you don’t mind exploded chicken.”
“So you did blow up the kitchen.”
“No, no.” Nick chewed his lip. “Just the chicken.”
Warrick laughed. “Great. I would ask what happened to the turkey, but Sara called to tell me about that.”
Nick frowned. “Is anything secret?”
“In this lab?” Warrick chuckled. “You’re dating a lab tech turning CSI. You tell me.”
“Point.” The Vegas lab techs knew everything about everybody, and Greg knew even more than that now he was venturing out into the field. Nick was sure that even when Greg reached CSI 1 he would maintain his lab rat ties to the gossip chain and rumour mill. “So how are things going?”
“Looking forward to wrapping things up. Already had a murder over child custody, two B & E’s, and a hit and run. Makes me glad we’re not allowed to work doubles on Christmas.”
“Sounds it.” Nick shot a look at Greg as he realised the younger had already eaten half of the chocolate coated chicken. Putting a hand over the receiver, he shot Greg a firm glare. “You’re going to be sick later, you realise.”
“Hey, I can eat anything.” Greg pointed down at the bowl. “And I never pass up anything this good.”
“Yeah, tell me that again when you’re hanging over the toilet bowl later.”
“Nick?” Warrick sounded amused. “What’s Greg done now?”
“He accidentally poured chocolate sauce instead of gravy on the chicken.” Nick sighed. “And he’s eating it.”
“Yeah? I did that one time. Tasted pretty good.”
“Man, how can you guys eat that shit?” Nick shook his head. “It tasted foul.”
“Each to their own.” Warrick paused. “Next year’s my year, right?”
“Yeah.” Nick smiled faintly. “Dinner at your place.”
“Deal.” He heard Warrick sigh. “Cath was telling me how prepared she is for Christmas dinner. Apparently she’s been cooking up a storm these last few days. All she’s got to do is warm a few things because everything’s already cooked, and her mum is dropping off a pudding. Cath reckons she’ll still be eating three days from now.”
“Nice.” Nick smiled. “What we’ll have to try next time. We’ve overloaded the oven.”
“I think we could all learn a lot from Cath.”
“Yeah.” Nick sighed heavily. “Cath seems to get everything right, whereas as soon as we think we’ve done something right, we find more errors even after fixing previous ones.”
“Falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus,” Greg chimed from the kitchen.
“What’s Greggo saying?” Warrick asked.
Nick rolled his eyes. “G’s getting sugar high. He’s sprouting Latin proverbs.”
Warrick laughed. “Great. Told you you needed to buy handcuffs to lock him down.”
“He’d use them for something else.” Nick felt his face warm slightly. “And we’re not going there.”
Warrick laughed harder, Nick shooting Greg a glare as the other smiled sweetly at him and popped another piece of chocolate coated chicken in his mouth. Warrick calmed, although Nick could still hear his smile. “Well, you hooked up with him, bro. Gotta live with that.”
“Plan to.” Nick smiled faintly. “For a while yet.”
“Aw.”
“Shut up, Warrick.”
“Sorry, man. You sounded so cute.”
“I swear, next shift you’re going to regret that.”
“Don’t believe you. If Greg said it…” Warrick chuckled again. “Greggo ever tell you how he managed to talk Griss into giving him Christmas off?”
“Yeah. Said he begged.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck, nose twitching faintly at a smell. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Greg hadn’t noticed it, Nick brushing it off and focusing back on the conversation. “Technically it was Greg’s year off anyway. I checked the schedule. Hodge’s has next year.”
“Mia’s got to wait a year, eh?”
“Well, Mia’s only new, so yeah.” Nick turned toward Greg again as the smell grew stronger, this time Greg meeting his eye and giving an ‘I don’t know’ shrug as he frowned. So Nick wasn’t smelling things. “Why? Want to hook up with her for Christmas next year, Rick?”
“Mia’s way out of my league, man.”
“Mia’s out of all our leagues.” Nick paused, smiling. “And if I recall you said that about me and Greg.”
“Yeah, well you’re both out of my league.”
Nick looked at Greg as the smell grew stronger - something was burning. Greg headed for the oven, tugging it open and gazing inside. Nick watched as he reached for the oven mitt and prodded around, closing the door and looking at Nick, shaking his head. Nick frowned as he noted the fine haze in the air, Greg heading in the direction of the stove.
“Hey Rick?” Nick watched as Greg tossed the oven mitt aside, snagging up another piece of chicken as he passed the bowl. “I gotta go.”
“Nick?” He could hear concern in Warrick’s voice and knew the other had heard his dread. “Nick? What’s going on there?”
The shrill scream of Nick’s fire alarm sent both Nick and Greg cowering, Nick seeing Greg cover his ears and quicken his pace. Nick spun, looking for something to turn off the alarm and swearing as he saw he hadn’t put his broom away. He threw the first thing he could at the alarm, knocking it from the room and silencing it.
When he turned back he saw Greg yank a pot from the stove, the lid clattering to the floor as Greg threw the pot in the sink, smoke billowing from the contents inside but easing when Greg turned on the cold water faucet. Nick hurried to the window and yanked it open, snagging up the clipboard and waving the smoke out. He glanced back over his shoulder and watched as Greg picked up the pot, swirling the water around the contents inside.
“What was it?”
Greg looked back, lifting the pot so Nick could see. “Dessert.”
“Oh, not the pudding.” Nick sighed heavily, tossing the clipboard onto the counter and slumping against. “That’s it. We just weren’t meant to have Christmas dinner.”
“Not all bad, Nicky.” Greg moved to the stove, turning off the hotplates before doing the same to the oven. “We managed to cook the vegetables and the Christmas cake is good. Still got gravy, chocolate sauce and a little bit of chicken, too.”
“That’s just not it, G.” Nick shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he felt tears of frustration form in his eyes. “We’ve been planning this for weeks! We’re not going to get another chance at this for years…”
Greg moved toward him, enfolding him in a tight hug. “Hey… we had fun, right?”
“Well… yeah.” Nick rested his head on Greg’s shoulder and sighed. “We were doomed from the start, weren’t we.”
“I knew that the minute you forgot the turkey.”
Nick growled. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you.”
“Not a chance.” Greg pulled back. “You also blew up the chicken.”
Nick set his jaw. “Dessert was your responsibility, and I’m guessing you let the pudding boil dry.”
It was Greg’s turn to glare. “Well you can’t blame me for the cherries. That was your doing.”
Nick prodded him in the chest. “Chocolate sauce was your fault though.”
Greg couldn’t fight the smile, shrugging it off and reaching behind Nick to steal another piece of chicken, popping it onto his tongue. He turned, looking around. “So what’s the plan?”
“We be real men and admit defeat.” Nick turned to the cupboard and pulled out some heat-proof Tupperware containers and handed them to Greg. “Put the vegetables in these then take out the cake and wrap it.”
Greg looked at him a moment before smiling, nodding his agreement to the unspoken plan and heading for the stove. He gestured to the side as he headed for the stove. “You might want to use your mobile.”
Nick frowned. “Why?”
“Well,” Greg looked back at him, “guess what you threw at the fire detector.”
Nick frowned, eyes widening as he hurried toward the fallen device, He dropped to one knee, picking up the pieces of his phone and swearing. “I swear this day cannot get-”
“Don’t say it, Nick.”
Nick sighed, standing and rubbing his eyes as he headed into the bedroom, plucking his mobile up from the bedside table. As he headed back into the main living area he keyed in a familiar speed dial number, listening as it only rung once before the other answered.
“Been waiting for your call. Warrick told me about your conversation.” Catherine chuckled. “I’ve already called Lindsey and told her to sets extra places. See you and Greg in an hour, Nicky.”
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END