Greg sighed in relief when he heard the kitchen door open and Gil walked in, home from work, from the garage.
"Gil! Hurry up and get in here!" Greg called. "For the love of Mike!"
Gil rushed into the living room, afraid that something was wrong. He found his live-in-lover sitting on the back of the couch, feet on the arm rest. His eyes were glued to something on the floor, and he had a shoe in hand.
"Get it. Get it out of here before I kill it," Greg said, pointing to the bottom of the entertainment centre. Gil looked to where he was pointing and he saw two hairy legs sticking out from under it. A moment went by and a tarantula pulled itself out from beneath it.
"It's just Betsy," Gil grinned as Greg jumped. "How did she get out?"
"I don't know, but get it out of here before I throw my shoe," Greg warned, eyes trained and arm cocked. Gil rolled his eyes and went over to pick up his pet.
"Here, she's very gentle," Gil held his hands out toward Greg, and the newest CSI toppled off the back of the couch.
He pulled himself from the floor, but hid behind the couch.
"Gilbert Grissom, I love you, but if you don't get that tarantula away from me and in its cage, I will kill it."
"Alright. Scaredy cat," Gil smirked, and walked down the hall to his study. "Come open the door for me."
"Fuck no!"
Gil grinned and shook his head as he held onto Betsy with one hand and opened his study door. He carefully placed the Eurypelma californica back in her terrarium and then looked over to his hissing cockroaches. He counted three. There was Bonzo, John Paul, and Jimmy. He recounted. Three again. He heard a scream from the kitchen.
"GIL! THIS COCKROACH HAD BETTER NOT BE ONE OF YOURS!"
Gil chuckled as he went to collect Robert from the kitchen.

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