A/N: I had most of this on my hard drive for a loooooong time, and I decided to finally dust this little bit of fluff off and finish it. (Just when you thought after my last two angsty-type fics I didn't have it in me!) I've left it open-ended. Might get back to it one day.

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Jennifer walked into the breakroom, smiling as she caught sight of Sara Sidle's unmistakable lanky frame lounging on the couch. "Sara. Someone at the front desk to see you."

Sara sat up. "For me?"

"Yeah," the receptionist answered. She held out her hand just slightly above her head. "About yay tall, dark hair, blue eyes to die for, and an accent that will knock you on your ass."

"A guy?"

A look of amusement passed between Catherine, Nick and Warrick.

Jennifer nodded.

"For Sara?" Nick piped up with a grin. He had the good sense to try and stifle the expression once he got a steely Sidle glare in return.

"Very funny," she retorted. Looking back to Jennifer, she stood up and said, "Thanks, Jen." She wiped her palms on her jeans and frowned.

"You know," Catherine finally said, "if you go see who it is, you'd get rid of that puzzled frown a hell of a lot quicker."

Startled out of her reverie, Sara blinked. "What? Oh. You guys are a bunch of comedians tonight."

"Hey, don't lump me in that group," Warrick objected.

Sara smiled. "Sorry. I'll leave it up to you then to tell Grissom where I am if I'm not here when he shows up with the assignments."

Warrick looked to his other two teammates. "You guys can have my possessions if Griss decides to shoot the messenger."

"You've just been lumped back in that group," Sara informed with a stern look, one that was betrayed by the ghost of a grin.

---

'Dark hair, blue eyes to die for, and an accent that will knock you on your ass,' Sara played back in her mind as she walked down the hall towards the front desk. 'Who the hell could that be?' She didn't bother turning around when she spoke aloud, "I can hear you guys shuffling and giggling behind me." Her gaze caught the reflected images of Nick, Catherine and Warrick in one of the many windows of the hallway. The trio froze, then giggled louder.

"Sorry, Sara," Nick apologized between the laughter, "but it's not every day we get to be a witness to history."

Sara's response was a flick of her middle finger as she kept walking.

"Dark hair, blue eyes to die for..." her recollection stopped in mid-sentence when she turned the corner. A huge smile spreading from ear to ear. "Tony!" The name was barely out of her mouth when her arms were around him in a warm embrace.

"Oh!" he said in surprise before gently putting his arms around her. "Sara."

She pulled back and placed her hands on either side of his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, we were just in the neighbourhood and...," he shrugged nonchalantly.

She laughed then hugged him again. "Oh, it's so good to see you." She held him for a moment longer before stepping back. "We? Who's we?"

Before Tony could answer, Nick came out from his hiding post around the corner and said, "Hey! Dr. Hill!" The younger man shook Tony's hand. "Good to see you, man," he said warmly

Catherine and Warrick stepped forward too and joined the welcome.

"Another wrong turn at Albuquerque, Dr. Hill?" Catherine teased.

"You can't trust cab drivers these days," Tony deadpanned.

The group was laughing, when a familiar blonde approached.

"Carol!" Sara beamed and the two women hugged.

"Sorry I'm late to the party," Carol apologized, "but when I came out of the loo, I was lost. You need to have maps posted around here, honestly."

"I left bread crumbs the last time I was here," Tony recalled.

Sara laughed again, then caught the looks of her teammates. "Oh yeah, sorry. Guys, this is Carol Jordan. She was the cop on the murder case I helped with when I was in England in the spring. Carol, these are my co-workers, Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, and Nick Stokes."

Carol shook each hand and exchanged greetings in turn, ending with Nick.

He took her hand in his and drawled, "Ms. Jordan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Carol narrowed her eyes appreciatively and replied, "I absolutely adore your accent, Mr. Stokes."

Sara leaned into Nick and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. "Are you blushing, Nick?"

Warrick hooted, then shook his head. "Damn man, you are so easy."

"Is he?" Carol asked, feigning innocence.

"I'll just be off to the side here, dying," Nick said. Once the laughter died down, he looked at Tony. "Hey. So you're the guy who was waiting for Sara?"

Tony frowned in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Jen came into the breakroom and told Sara a guy was waiting for her at the front desk." The look of confusion remained on Tony's face. "We thought it might have been a male admirer. It would have been a historic event."

The light went on. "Oh, I see," Tony replied. "That's why you three were skulking around the corner."

"Guilty as charged," Warrick admitted.

"Well, I am an admirer of Sara," he smiled at her. "However, I am not blessed with the fortitude to be a history maker." His smile turned to Carol.

Catherine caught the look and repeated Tony's earlier refrain. "Oh, I see."

"What?" Nick asked, which earned him a jab in the shoulder from Warrick. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to imagine Kevin and Don like this," Carol said.

"How is Don doing?" Sara asked.

"Good. He's well. A bit disappointed he couldn't be here, but good nonetheless."

"That's good. Tell him I miss him." She tilted her head, the question just occurring to her. "Not that I'm not really happy to see you two, but what ARE you doing here?"

Carol laughed. "Tony didn't tell you?"

"I never got the chance," he defended.

"There was some rather large psychologists to-do in Los Angeles over the weekend. And Tony has a fear of flying."

"Not a fear," Tony objected. "Just... a very healthy apprehension when it comes to being put into a steel can and launched into the air for extended periods of time."

"Right. As I was saying," Carol continued, "a fear of flying. So he asked me if I would like to come with him and I agreed."

"That sounds like a psychological trick to get a pretty woman to hold your hand to me," Nick opined.

"I would never, ever resort to such a tactic, Nick," Tony replied. "Ever."

Carol's eyes narrowed. "Hmmm, I think I'm going to have to carefully re-evaluate this situation before we get back on the plane."

"I let you drag me to a casino," Tony meekly defended. "And you know how much I hate them."

"Too much sensory stimulation?" Sara asked.

Tony nodded. "Sends me right round the bend, honestly."

"The more money you lose, the worse it gets," Warrick said.

"A vicious psychological cycle, yes," Tony agreed. "Which is probably why Carol hasn't noticed."

"You're winning?" Warrick asked. "Good for you."

"Winning?" Tony exclaimed. "I keep waiting for some mob character to tap her on the shoulder and drag us into the desert."

Warrick's eyes narrowed. "Just how much are you winning?"

Carol looked away with a guilty grin. "Oh, well, you know, in casino terms, not much. About, well, twenty-eight thousand dollars."

"In one sitting," Tony added.

Warrick's eyebrows lifted and he whistled. "Nearly thirty Gs? Blackjack?"

Carol nodded.

"Card counter?"

Carol feigned resentment. "I am an officer of the law, even if it's not here in the States. I would never stoop to cheating."

Catherine smirked. "It's only cheating if you get caught."

"So you're not card counting?" Nick asked.

"Well," Carol hesitated before hedging, "I've been tested for my vocal recall." When she saw the questioning looks of the four Americans, she explained, "I can recall entire conversations verbatim."

"You're kidding," Nick said.

"I absolutely adore your accent, Mr. Stokes," Carol repeated. "Are you blushing, Nick? Damn man, you are so easy. Is he? I'll just be off to the side here, dying."

"Holy shit," Nick marveled.

"That's gotta come in handy in court," Catherine remarked.

"It does."

Warrick nodded. "So this vocal recall also affects your visual recollection?"

Carol shook her head. "Not nearly as accurate, no."

"But it doesn't hurt," Warrick smiled. "And cards are easier to remember than details. The MIT Blackjack team won hundreds of thousands using a plus/minus system based on the cards face up on the table. It's pretty rote."

She smiled back. "Yeah."

"How many cards can you keep track of?" he asked, curious.

"I've never really tested myself." Seeing the waiting looks of those around her, she gave in. "I'd guess somewhere between sixty and seventy five."

Warrick whistled again. "Not bad. I once knew a guy who could track a hundred cards."

"Almost two full decks?" Sara asked. "Wow. I can't even remember what I watched on TV yesterday."

Carol laughed. "Well, like Mr. Brown said, cards are rather rote. Ten numbers and three pictures. Quite easy, really. And," she went on, "in my defense, I have to say card counting isn't going to win every time."

Warrick agreed. "She's right. They use anywhere up to four decks at the blackjack table at any given time, which skewers the odds for card counters considerably. And you can never account for pure luck." He gave Carol a respectful wink.

A familiar supervisor coming down the hall caught Nick's eye. He glanced at his watch. "Shit. Speaking of luck, we'll be lucky to have a job tomorrow."

All eyes turned to see what had caught Nick's attention.

"You guys save yourselves; I'll stay behind and distract him," Warrick offered in a tone of exaggerated bravado.

"I heard that," Grissom said as he approached the group.

"Busted," Nick moaned.

"You're all busted," he agreed, his gaze a dictatorial one, until it fell upon Tony. Grissom blinked twice, his mind taking a moment to sequence the facts in front of him. As last, he said, "Don't tell me there's been another murder?" He smiled and offered his hand. "Forgive my surprise. Good to see you again, Tony."

Shaking Grissom's hand, Tony smiled as well. "And you." He stepped back and put a hand on Carol's elbow. "And this is Carol Jordan. Carol, Gil Grissom."

She leaned forward and shook his hand. "Pleasure; I've heard quite a lot about you."

Eyebrows when up among the entire CSI crew, save for Sara, whose gaze sheepishly went downward.

Grissom's mouth twitched in amusement. "That's a relief, because I've heard quite a bit about you, too."

His expression was mirrored in Carol's. "Must have been an awfully long ride back to Vegas."

"Tony and Carol are here for the psychology conference in Los Angeles," Sara blurted, desperate to change the subject.

Tony quickly jumped in to help out. "Well, actually, I went to L.A for the conference, Carol came to Vegas to win an embarrassingly large amount of lucre, and we're both here to give Sara this." He leaned down to the bag at his feet. Reaching in, he pulled out a small oak plaque, an official-looking seal etched into the reflective gold plating. "For her assistance and bravery in ensuring the safety of her community, this award is presented to Sara Sidle," Tony read from the inscription.

"My community?" she laughed, attempting to divert the attention.

Warrick smiled. "Well, the world is a village."

Tony handed Sara the award and softly said, "I know you'd prefer to keep your head down and not draw attention to yourself, but just this once, enjoy the praise, all right? For me."

She nodded her understanding and reached for the award.

"Wait!" Carol interjected. Digging into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a camera. "Sorry, but it's for documentation. Don will kill me if I don't bring back a picture."

Sara appreciated Carol's humour and was glad to play along. She put an arm around Tony's shoulder and pulled him close, the plaque between them, and faced the camera.

After the flash died away, Catherine slyly noted, "That's a gorgeous smile you've got, Tony."

Nick chortled. "Hell, if I came to Vegas with a beautiful blonde, and was spending time with a pretty brunette, I'd be smilin' like that, too."

"A beautiful blonde who's won thirty grand at blackjack!" Warrick added.

"Does the mythical unspoken code among men not translate overseas?" Tony asked. "I'll be lucky if you're not investigating MY disappearance in the near future."

"Which may be sooner than you think," Carol remarked darkly.

As the laughter died down, Grissom spoke up. "As much as I'd like to stay and chat..." he held up the assignment sheets.

"... duty calls," Catherine finished without much enthusiasm.

"And I still have money to win," Carol declared.

"Fantastic," Tony remarked, without nearly as much fervor.

"How long are you in Vegas?" Grissom asked.

"We have a flight out of L.A in three days," Carol told him.

Sara beamed. "That's great! I'd love to spend some time with you guys, if that's okay."

Tony adopted a pained expression. "Anything that gets me out of the casinos."

Narrowing her gaze, Sara said, "I guess I'll take the compliments where I can get them."

"Hey!" he objected. "I came a long way just to deliver you an award."

Her lips brushed against his cheek. "Yes, you did. Thank you."

Seeing his face, Carol smirked, "I should have got a picture of that."

The group laughed again until Grissom coughed.

"Right, right," Nick said. "Work, work."

"We should all have breakfast together," Catherine suggested.

Warrick's face lit up. "Yeah, we haven't done that in a long, long time. Whaddya think, Griss?"

All eyes went to Grissom and he nodded appreciatively. "I think that's a great idea." He looked at Tony and Carol. "Why don't you two meet us back here at seven?" Then he turned to Nick. "And it's your turn to pay."

Nick's eyes widened. "Nuh-uh. I distinctively remember paying last time. It's Warrick's turn."

"Don't even try that, man," Warrick warned. "You know it's -"

"- come on, boys," Catherine corralled them together and pushed them down the hall. "More work, less talk." She turned back and said, "Good to meet you, Carol. I'll see you guys later."

The two young men were still arguing as they disappeared around the corner with Catherine.

"I'm amazed you get anything done around here," Carol remarked with a grin.

"So am I," Grissom deadpanned. He shook Carol's hand again. "It was really nice meeting you. I look forward to seeing you again at breakfast. Sara," he said as his attention went to her, "I'll meet you in the breakroom."

As Grissom made his way down the hall, Sara looked back and forth between Tony and Carol. "Thanks for surprising me," she said. "It meant a lot."

Tony shrugged away the thanks. "We were glad to do it. Besides," he leaned in and whispered, "I imagine your four hour drive with Grissom has nothing on my twelve hour flight with Carol."

"Hello?" Carol announced. "I'm standing right here."

Sara shook her head and laughed. "I expect to hear all about it before you leave."

"So do I," Carol quipped.

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