Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Me love Greg. Me love Greg long time.


Jewels

by Kristen Elizabeth


"Tell me about this one." With his head resting just below Regan's breast, Greg traced his index finger down a short scar on her lower abdomen.

She combed his rumpled hair with her fingers. "Just my appendix."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes." Regan's hand moved to his back and the web of delicate, pink lines where the lab explosion had permanently marked him. "Probably not as much at this."

"I barely remember it. Happened so fast," he murmured. "One second I was standing and the next I was on the floor."

"I was fourteen when I had my surgery. And I was happy about it because for the first time in my life, I had something Maia didn't. Even if it was appendicitis."

Greg lifted and turned his head to see her. "I can't imagine having to share a face with someone else."

"No one can, unless they have to." Regan looked up at the ceiling for a long time. "I miss her. Maybe we weren't best friends, but she was still my sister. You know?"

"Who was older?"

She swiped at her cheeks. "Um...me. By fifteen minutes. I'm a classic oldest child."

He sat up, suddenly aware of her tears. "Hey...we don't need to talk about any of this. Are you thirsty? Hungry? I can't promise you much here, but if you want to order out..."

"It's okay." Regan took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "You gave me exactly what I needed tonight."

Greg could feel his face warm up. "Well...trust me. It was my pleasure." He lowered himself back onto his elbow; she shifted into a similar position. They faced each other, still holding hands. "I gotta tell you...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for days."

Her smile was flirty. "Does that mean that you've tried to stop thinking about me?"

"I should," he replied, seriously. "My co-workers think I've cracked. But they don't know you." With his free hand, Greg tucked a tangled curl behind her ear. "They wouldn't understand what I'm feeling."

Regan's lashes lowered. "What are you feeling?"

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

Her stare lifted and locked onto his. "Are you sure it's me you're in love with?" She squeezed his hand before he could say anything. "People loved Maia when she was alive. I wouldn't be surprised if that extended beyond the grave."

Greg shook his head. "No. It's you, Regan. Everything about you...I can't explain it, and maybe I shouldn't be able to. Because this stuff is supposed to be unexplainable. I don't know." He paused for a moment. "Here's what I do know. I'm happy when we're together. And when we're not...I'm counting down until we can be again. If that's not love...what is?"

Regan continued to stare at him, as she hadn't really seen him until that very moment.

Eventually, he could stand the silence no longer. "Did I just make a complete idiot out of myself, or is there any possibility that you might feel the same way?"

"I should go." Pulling away, Regan rolled out of bed, unconscious of her nudity as she began gathering her clothes. Momentarily frozen, Greg could only watch her hastily putting on all the things he'd so eagerly taken off earlier. When she had everything on but her shoes, she stopped and looked back at him. "My parents are flying in from Seattle. Have to be there to pick them up."

"So...this isn't because of what I just..."

She crawled across the rumpled sheets just long enough to give him a slow, thorough kiss. "I'll see you soon." Upon reaching the door to his room, Regan glanced back at him. "I don't run away from things like this, Greg. That was Maia's game." With a small smile and a quick, "Bye," she left.

Greg flopped back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Admittedly, it had been awhile for him. But he couldn't remember ever feeling this twisted up in knots over a woman.

"Must be love."


At work the next night, Greg discovered another downside to having incredible, mind-blowing, life-altering sex with the sister of a murder victim. The complete inability to concentrate on anything your boss was saying.

Grissom might as well have been an adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon.

His eyelids must have been drooping as much as his attention because suddenly Sara's fingers appeared in his range of vision. Before he could stop her, she snapped them. Loudly.

"I'm here," Greg announced, sitting up straighter. "I've been here."

Sara gave him her sweet smile of death. "Then you can tell me all about Maia Mays' financial records."

"Um...didn't we already go over that? She was in debt up to her eyeballs. And you two think she might have been killed because of it." Without a word, Grissom handed him a bank statement. Greg squinted at it. "What am I looking for?"

"Two months before her death, a thousand dollars was wired into Maia's checking account," Sara said. "Guess who it came from? Regan Mays."

Greg smiled. "Well, that's Regan." When he looked up, both Grissom and Sara were watching him closely. Clearing his throat, he shoved the statement back into Grissom's hands. "So, she helped her twin out a little. Are we so cynical that we think family members helping each other is something worth investigating?"

"It is when a month later, another thousand, plus five hundred more, was wired into the same account." Grissom pulled out a second statement from a file and set it down on the table. "Again, from Regan."

"Pretty generous," Sara noted, her eyes narrowing just a bit, like they did when she was onto something. "Especially considering how Maia felt about her twin. Saintly little bitch, and all that."

Pushing the paper away, Greg leaned back in his chair and folded his arms defensively. "What are we talking about here?"

"I think..." Sara glanced at Grissom. "We need to start seriously looking at Regan Mays."

"Based on what?" he continued, coldly.

Grissom answered, "In two months, she gave her sister twenty-five hundred dollars. And instead of using the money to start getting herself out of debt, Maia blew it on MP3 players and parties. Maybe...Regan decided to put a permanent end to her freeloading."

"Forgetting for a second that Maia was her twin sister, a genetic copy of her own flesh and blood...how do you think this played out?" Greg looked his boss straight in the eye. "And yeah. I'm asking for a theory first. Since you don't have any real evidence."

Raising an eyebrow, Grissom accquiesced. "I think Regan drove back to Vegas early with the express purpose of confronting her sister. Cutting someone's throat is not a crime of passion, but of calculation."

"How do you explain the fact that we didn't find a drop of blood in Maia's apartment?" Greg interrupted, triumphantly.

"In Maia's apartment, no. But have we searched Regan's?" When Greg said nothing, he continued, "It probably wouldn't have taken a lot for Regan to lure Maia to her place. Maybe with the promise of another handout. Once there, she overpowered her sister, killed her and..."

"And what? Dumped her body?" Greg shook his head. "Regan is maybe a hundred and fifteen pounds. Maia was a hundred-ten. I don't see her carting that much dead weight around on her own."

"You'd be surprised what people can do under extreme circumstances," Grissom countered. "After you've been doing this for longer..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the dumb rookie." He held up his hands. "Just bumbling by your side until I get my grown-up wings."

Sara's cell phone rang just then. "Thank god," she muttered as she opened it up. "Sidle." After listening for a moment, she nodded. "Thanks. I'll be there in a few." Closing her phone, Sara addressed the feuding duo. "As much fun as this verbal tennis game has been, Doc Robbins is requesting my presence." She stood up. "I never thought that I'd be happy to be heading to the morgue."

Once she was gone, Greg couldn't sit still any longer. Jumping to his feet, he ran all ten fingers through his hair. "I've got...stuff to do," was all he could get out. "I'll be around."

As he left the room, he had every intention of heading to trace to check on a few cases. But his legs carried him all the way down the hall, through the reception area, and out into the waning sunshine. Once he was seated in his car, he placed a single call.

"Regan," Greg said when she answered. "I really need to see you."

She hesitated only a second before giving him her address.


The morgue was cool and quiet as Sara entered. Instead of being greeted by Doc Robbins or David, a man and a woman were waiting for her in the hallway. They sat in a pair of chairs, hands clasped, heads bowed.

"Hi, there," she said. They looked up at her. "I'm Sara Sidle."

The man introduced them. "Mark and Sherry Mays."

"Mr. and Mrs. Mays. I am very sorry for your loss." She sat in the empty seat next to Mark. "I'm one of the CSI's who's been investigating your daughter's death."

Sherry looked at Sara; her eyes were bloodshot. "We want to see Maia. We came all this way...you all aren't releasing her...her..." She stopped, too overcome to continue.

"Our investigation is on-going, Mrs. Mays," Sara said. "But I can take you to see Maia if that's what you want."

Mark nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with his head. "That's what we want."

She stood up again. "Just follow me."

A few minutes later, Sara had the unpleasant task of lowering the sheet that covered Maia's body. She stopped just short of the slice across her neck; her parents didn't need to see that.

Maia's mother lost it instantly. She grabbed onto her husband, sobbing uncontrollably. Her father managed to hold himself together, even reaching out to touch his daughter's cold cheek. "She was our baby," he whispered. "Who could have done this to her?"

Sara looked down at her shoes. "That's what we're trying to determine," she replied, diplomatically. "Can you think of anyone? A boyfriend? An ex-boyfriend?"

"Regan would know about that kind of thing more than us." Mark's eyes shone with tears even as he smiled. "They were quite the pair. Inseperable when they were little."

"What happened?"

Putting his arm around his wife, he sighed. "I don't know. It must have happened when we weren't looking. Even now...all I can remember is them taking care of each other. Maia...helping Regan learn their ballet routine. Regan...bringing Maia ice cream after she had her appendix taken out. They loved each other."

Sara frowned as something he'd just saidnagged at her brain. Before she could think it through, Sherry pulled at her husband's arm. "I can't be here anymore. Mark...it's too hard."

"Okay. We'll go." He looked at Sara with the earnest trust she'd often seen in victim's family members. "Find who did this to my little girl."

"I promise I'll do my best."

They saw themselves out, clinging to one another, lost in grief that would never go away.

Once she was sure they were gone, Sara looked down at the body in front of her. She debated with herself for a moment before giving in to curiosity. Lifting up the sheet at the middle of Maia's body, her eyes searched for something, but found nothing.

The twin lying in the morgue had never had her appendix removed.


To Be Continued