Chapter Two

I was sitting on a bench in a square near the courthouse, reading a book, waiting for Greg, anxious because I needed to tell him what my grade was on the only test he really cared about. I hadn't seen him since four days earlier.

"Jen?" I heard his voice and raised my eyes from the book. He sat next to me. "What are you doing here?"

"I study two blocks away from here. I thought maybe I should stop by and ask you how the trial was and tell you I got an A in Chemistry."

"Congratulations, sweetheart!"

"I had nothing to do with it. You're the one who deserves the credit." He looked away from me, embarassed. He always hated it when I gave him the credit for something the thought he had nothing to do with.

"How was your birthday?" He asked, in an obvious attempt of changing the subject.

"It was... normal. You should have been there."

"I should have, but I'm a cop. I can't sit back and watch you and your underage friends drinking. You know that."

"It's okay," I said, a little sad. "I missed you, that's all."

He loosened the tie knot, seeming truly annoyed with it. "What are you reading?"

I closed the book, so he could read the title. "Lolita. Excellent choice. It's a shame it has nothing to do with us," he laughed.

"It's the best part. To feel normal about us."

"If you were 12 and I was 40, this book would be a reference. But, you're not a baby anymore."

"Did you notice they have a better sex life than we do?"

"What do you know about my life? Besides, two days ago you were a baby too. It reminds me... Is school over?"

"There is a game tomorrow. League's finals. And, the prom is in two weeks. But, after Wednesday, I'll not have to think about school for two whole months. Oh, gosh, I'll get desperately fat on vacation!"

"Or not." He smirked. "Did you bring your car?"

"Nope. My friend gave me a ride to school and I came here on foot. I knew I'd find you here."

"How?"

"I called you to ask you for a ride home and nobody answered, neither at home nor on the cell phone. So, I called the police station and Cath told me you were testifying here."

"Did they tell you the colour of my PJ's?"

"I didn't ask, but I bet I could find out, if I wanted to."

"We need girls like you at the lab. Let's go home?"

"Okay." We walked to the car. During the whole drive home, we talked about my plans for the prom; who I'd go with (one of the Attack men who'd always asked me for a date), what I would wear (a dark red halter dress), what time the party ended (around 6am), where I would sleep (home, maybe. It would depend on the things that happened during the night)... He seemed very interested on those details, almost like he was jealous. I can't lie, I liked it.

He parked the car and we got in the empty elevator, leaning against opposite walls. But, when the doors closed and we looked at each other, it became impossible to resist the temptation of starting, in the small distance to the 5th floor, what we knew we would end in one of the apartments.

The door opened and Greg picked the keys in his pocket. He looked at me, maybe wondering if I would kill him if he asked what he wanted. After a small silence, filled by the keys noise, he asked, "Wanna come in?"

I nodded. We entered the apartment and he closed the door before kissing me again, while leading me to his room. I smiled when he closed the door, maybe out of the habit, and turned the lights on, saying exactly what I was thinking: "I guess it's time to cancel that old prohibition, right?"

I nodded slowly, sitting on the dark blue sheets that covered his tall bed. He sat next to me, seeming a little guilty when he looked at my face, but kissed me again, laying me on the bed.

We took our clothes off, in a teasingly slow way that only contributed to making us more and more desperate to skip that part and go straight to what mattered. However, he seemed to want me to think that the two years of waiting were worthy.

His tongue ran along my body, almost driving me crazy, while his hands touched me firmly and resolutely. He seemed to know exactly where and how to touch me in every single moment, making desire fill me.

Greg laughed when he felt my body shake involuntarily under him, getting away from me, his eyes asking me to forgive him for that, justifying his attitude with the most sarcastic words he's ever said to me: "It's not that you don't deserve it. It's just too soon."

He sat on the bed, next to me, and opened a drawer of the side table. I watched him as he picked the small square pack of a condom and threw it on my belly. "I guess you know what to do."

I nodded, grabbing it and sitting on his lap, and then I kissed him. Yes, I knew what to do. But it didn't mean I was used to doing. So, I had a little trouble in opening the pack and pulling the condom out of it while kissing Greg's lips. But it wasn't impossible, and I knew that because, in the end, I did it, and only stopped when I heard him moan low. Greg seemed to like my inexperience just as much as I liked his experience, and it made everything feel even more wonderful.

Still looking in his eyes, I slowly lowered my body, feeling him inside of me the way I'd spent two years fantasizing. I moaned low, making him give me a smile. I got up again, still slowly, and hesitated for one second, before repeating the move.

I did it once or twice before he held me by my waist, keeping me from moving. "Can we actually start now?" He asked, throwing me on the bed.

I lifted an eyebrow, laughing, and answered, "Please".

Greg thrusted violently, forcing himself inside of me and a moan of pain that escaped from my lips made him smile in delight. The sadistic delight he'd been saying he loved to feel, and that I really wanted him to feel. "I love it when you beg," he whispered.

I let him enjoy that situation a little more. I'd always preferred doing things that way, because I liked being the submissive one. But, during the last year, I had learned to do things the other way and, by instinct, I tried to change positions, and that was when he fell heavily on the floor and yelled my name angrily.

I could see the whole DNA model scene running through my eyes when I looked over at his face. His expression was exactly the same, and I had to control myself a lot to avoid laughing.

"Come here now, Jennifer." He ordered me, still not moving. Calmly, I went where he was and lied down on his body. "No way, Jenny." He switched places again, making my arm hit the closet, and thrust even harder.

Our bodies fitted perfectly. Never, in my whole life, had I felt like I was truly completed by someone as I felt with him; it seemed that Greg knew exactly what I wanted, even though he'd never done it with me before. It didn't matter how much each one of his rough moves hurt me either, because of his strength or because of the thick carpet against which he pushed me. It was simply good. And it wouldn't be that good if it wasn't that way.

My nails slid on his sweaty back every time I tried to scratch him, in an attempt to make him feel part of the pain I felt. Not that I really cared about it. I knew he would stop if I asked, no matter when I did. But I didn't want him to stop.

He moaned and his body tightened. We looked at each other for a second, before I embraced him. He kept the thrusts, determined, abusing of his self-control to avoid coming before I did. I shook again, feeling that intense and divine pleasure take control of my body, and had to bite his shoulder to avoid screaming when he pushed himself inside me, even stronger, for the last time, letting my name slip from his lips.

He held me in his arms and carried me to the bed, watching me as I felt the effects of the orgasm vanish from my body.

I stared at his hazel eyes, noticing he seemed to be trying to decide whether he would or not say what he was thinking. He bit his lower lip, undecided, looked at me for a really long time, and then seemed to give up.

"Greg?" He gave me a smile when I called him.

"Me?"

"What's the matter? I know there's something you want to say."

"You're beautiful." He whispered, and I turned my face away, blushing. "Sorry, Jen, I always get... romantic after it." He rolled his eyes when I looked at him again. "That's why I don't usually say things." I laughed, turning my body to him.

"Does it still hurt?" I asked, a little apprehensive.

"A little. I think maybe an aspirin will help." He opened the drawer and took a pill. "The next time, you should push to the other side, genius."

"I didn't mean it! I only thought of it after I saw you on the floor!"

"Sometimes, I wonder what you use your brain for. Really." He looked at me, smiling. "But I wasn't exactly able to think either, so I think I can forgive you. Again?"

"Again.", I said, without hesitating. Feeling his weight on my body made me think that it would be a long night. But amazing anyway.

.x.

The first thing I did when I woke up the next day was look for the alarm clock in the place where it used to be in my house. But I wasn't home, and his dark-brown furniture made that very clear.

The last time he'd let me in his bedroom had been 13 years before. In all that time, lots of things had changed - including the room itself -, and his room now looked more like a normal guy's than when he was younger: piles of paper and magazines (I felt a little shocked when I noticed that most of them were Science-related) were on the floor; some clothes, that he'd probably just brought from the dry cleaner's were on a chair; the closet's doors were completely covered by pictures of him and his friends and post-its with his appointments; his shoes were all over the floor, with our clothes and the wireless phone. But there wasn't, in any place, a clock in which I could check the hours.

He was lying with his back turned to me, still asleep. His hair was even messier than usual and his skin had some deep scratches. It meant I'd had a truly good night.

I got out of the bed, in order to get dressed and have breakfast while waiting for him to wake up. I put on my underwear and his button-up shirt, deciding it'd be easier for me simply to put a few buttons in their places than to find my clothes on the floor.

His bathroom was shockingly tidy, if compared to the bedroom. I fixed my make-up carefully, because I knew that there are few things that can make a guy not want a second night, like looking terrible on the day after. My purse was on the living room floor, with my cell phone in it. 8am. I wondered when exactly we fell asleep. I could remember the sunset was before the first, but how many we had after it? Many.

I opened the kitchen's cupboards, looking for food. The first thing I noticed was that his Playboys had disappeared. I wondered if they had joined the others or been thrown away.

I made some coffee, because I knew I'd end up falling asleep if I didn't, and took the cookie jar to the living room. I sat on the couch and turned the TV on to watch something while he slept.

"Good morning, Jen", Greg whispered, entering the room. "How was your night?"

"Awesome." I watched him as he got himself a mug of coffee. "And yours?"

"I'm exhausted. And I'm still not sure if my back will ever get back to normal. I need aspirin, but I'm truly happy about it."

"Do you work today?"

"That's exactly the reason why I need my back to stop aching." He looked excited about the idea of going back to work, despite the fact that our schedules would go back to the 'totally different' thing. "But it's only after ten. Do you have plans for today?"

"I have the game, but it's at three."

He sipped his coffee and stared at me, thinking. I was ready not to accept his idea when he finally asked, "Have you ever shot a gun?"

"Is this what you call 'romantic'?"

"Nope. It's what I call 'fun'. Will you come?" He looked at me with puppy eyes. I couldn't say no.

"Okay. I mean... I've never done this before. And I don't even know if I can get in a place like that."

"Relax, Jenny. It's not like it's the hardest thing ever. All you have to do is go to your house and put on some comfortable clothes. I'll take care of the rest. We meet here in one hour, then I'll take you to eat and we'll be home before the game. Deal?"

"Sounds great." I finished my coffee and closed the cookie jar. "I'll get dressed, then." I kissed his lips softly. "See you later."

"Bye, sweetheart."

.x.

"Look, you must focus on the target." He seemed to be truly playing the instructor role and was quite angry because of my inability of aiming. "You can't get that nervous. I am the cop, not you. You can miss the centre. But at least hit the sheet!" He put the earphones back on and told me to do the same. "I'll just fix your aim," he yelled, so I could hear him. After he was done, he stepped back. Shaking, I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew and hit exactly the centre of the shadow's head. I put the gun down and took the phones off. "I had aimed down... But it was quite good. At least you killed the guy." He opened a smile. "In a little time, you'll be able to be a psychopath."

"Is that good?"

"Actually, female killers are hot. Wanna trade with me? Mine is easier to shoot." He took his .38 Glock off the holster and offered it to me. I gave him the 9 mm. "It's a semi like the other." He recharged the 9 mm. "But I prefer mine. We'll talk in six shots, okay?"

We put the earphones back. All six shots hit the shadow, the last one exactly where – based on my terrible notions of anatomy – the heart probably was located. He returned to my booth and pressed a tiny button, making the targets approach us.

"There's nothing better than one good shot." He joked. "Congratulations, sweetheart. I wasn't willing to tell you, but I guess you need to know that you were shooting in a professional distance. Want to continue?"

"It's cool. Can I?"

"If you like it... I always thought you would. I'll get more ammo for you."

When he came back, I was using the 9 mm. I noticed he was proud of me because I was trying. All he always wanted was someone to share a passion. Everything related to crime solving was a part of this shared obsession.

.x.

"You were great, you know?"

He hugged me, his pride shining even more in his eyes.

"Was I?"

"After you gave up impressing me, you were. You know, Jen, I swear that, if knowing how to shoot was a thing I'm looking for in a woman, I'd marry you right now. Because you're scarily good at it, when I'm not around." He paused for a second, before whispering, "And you are awesome in bed. Too awesome, in fact, for someone so young."

"Young doesn't mean inexperienced."

"Good point. Let's eat?"

We got in the car. He turned the radio on. "I was the best shooter in the Academy," he told me, drumming the wheel in the same rhythm as the early-90's song we were listening to. "It compensated for my total lack of discipline.

"That means you almost failed?"

"Their concept of discipline is totally twisted. I couldn't do anything 'cause I wouldn't risk my whole future because of my ideas. There are no civilian CSIs. But, today the undisciplined guy works in the department that requires the most discipline and organization of all. And, if Grissom can be the supervisor, I can do anything."

We parked in a small restaurant a few blocks away from our home. The guy who took care of parking the car approached us and called Greg by his name.

"Take care of my car, Timothy," Greg said, as he locked the gun in the glove compartment. He gave the car key to the other man. "I don't want it too far today, okay?"

"Don't worry, Greg. It's in good hands."

We got in the restaurant and the waitress took us to a table near the window. She gave us the menus. "Something to drink, Greg?"

"Two Cokes", he answered. "That's it for now."

The waitress left us alone. "Do you always get this VIP treatment?"

"Go to the place a few times a month and give them good tips. If it doesn't work, the badge will. What will you eat?"

"A salad," I didn't hesitate before answering. "I can't really eat anything with more calories than that on a game day. Sorry."

"You won't get all freaked out because of calories after yesterday, will you?"

"It's all a matter of metabolism." I opened a smile. "But you have the potential to be a great diet."

"It's a compliment, isn't it?"

I nodded. The Cokes arrived, and the waitress took our orders; a salad for me and the most temptating steak with French fries for him. Nobody said the world must be fair.

.x.

"Oh my God, you should cheer for my team..." He looked at me, seeming quite pleased by my uniform - the same he'd criticized many times before. I laughed.

"Why do all the guys say that?" I threw the pompons at his face, just to watch it fall to the floor.

"Because you look totally hot wearing this uniform." He kissed me. "Where were you?"

"Celebrating. The team won the game. And, you know, most of us are gonna take a break at cherring and playing for now. And the college results arrived. You're talking to the newest UNLV's freshman. I was also accepted to Brown, Harvard, Yale and another three Ivy Leaguers. And many others across the country. The guys want to kill me because I'm not going." I gave a wide smile. "And it had nothing to do with the fact that I'm a cheerleader. I'm quitting for good."

"How did you get in all those colleges?"

"I never said my grades weren't good. All I said was that I didn't want to be remembered as the geek. But, besides Chemistry, I had the best grades. My teachers loved me, and so did the principal. And I chose the right extracurricular activities and had awesome interviews. I learned from your mistakes."

"Will you really give it all up to stay in Vegas?" I nodded. "Why?"

"Because UNLV has the right subjects with great teachers. Because I love Vegas. Because I don't wanna live by myself so soon. And because I can't picture myself living in Providence, Rhode Island."

"Which subject?"

"Serial killers and sexual predators. You know I've always been obsessed about it."

"Can you do it in the first semester?"

"I guess."

"Good luck. If you wanna join the Academy now, let me know. I can get you in."

"I'd rather wait for the end of school." I sighed. "You gotta work, don't you?" He nodded. "I must go home. I'm cold. I'll probably sleep until 2pm tomorrow, so... call me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay. Good night, Jenny."

"Have a good night, Greg." I got in the elevator, while he left the garage.

.x.

"You sure you weren't waiting on me to call you?"

"You're so vain, Greg! I was watching a movie."

"It's a mess out here. Wanna go to the bedroom?"

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. I loved the way things just happened, in that crazy rhythm that belongs only to relationships which are in the beginning stages. And naturally, like I'd never experienced before.

And I felt exactly this way when, doing his best to avoid parting the kiss, he took me to his room and threw me on the bed.

"I couldn't work thinking of you. Thinking that you could have realized that I'm no longer a challenge. But I was wrong... and I've never been so glad about it."

.x.

I was still on the bed, under the dark green sheet, while he took a shower. The sound of the water made me wish I could join him, but I couldn't. It was getting pretty late.

"Look, you can stay after I leave, if you want. Just remember to lock the door, okay?" He came back to the room and threw the towel on the bed. "Yeah, I do have bad habits," he said, when he saw my disapproving face. He opened the closet, chose a pair of jeans and started getting dressed. "You can take the keys. I have a copy somwhere."

"You're already gonna give me a key? In a month I'll be living here."

"One thing at a time." He sat on the bed and looked at me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just thinking…"

"Thinking about…?"

"You're going back to work and I'll stay here and the next time I'll see you will be in like 16 hours and… and I never thought I'd watch you getting ready to work. At least, not from your bed."

"It feels different, doesn't it? I was thinking about it as well." He got up and went back to the bathroom, leaving the door opened. I could see him playing with his hair, using most of the things that he kept in front of the mirror. After a long time, he came back to the bedroom and looked for the wireless phone. "Hungry?" I shook my head. "Sure?" I nodded.

He got up and told me he'd be back soon. While he was out, I left the bed, got dressed and arranged my hair in a loose ponytail. I kind of envied his being so patient. No one else would spend so much time in front of a mirror just to end up scuba diving in other people's trashcans.

"I'll have a busy week, sweetheart." He hung up and threw the telephone on the bed. "I have another trial the day after tomorrow, and I wouldn't have come back home today if it weren't for the fact that I wanted to see you."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "Call me, okay?"

"I will." He hugged me. "I love you being so understanding."

"I'm not understanding. I'm reasonable. I know I'm just a good way for you to spend your time." I couldn't avoid a certain pain in my voice. Greg was the guy who would introduce me a new girl every week, and I knew I wasn't much different to him.

"You're not just a good way to spend my time, Jenny. You can say you're my… lover, but never say that again."

"What's the difference?"

"It'll take me a lot more than a week to get tired of you." He sat me on his lap and I pushed him until he was lying on the bed. "You look so hot from this angle…" He kissed one of my arms. "What's wrong? You're blushing."

"It's called shyness."

"Yeah, right. If you're shy, then I'm the king of Norway."

The doorbell rang and we looked at each other.

"I'll answer. You gotta get ready to go to work."

"I must be the Chinese. The wallet is on the table."

Feeling awkwardly important, I answered the door and the delivery guy gave me what Greg called 'lunch': Chinese takeout at 6pm. I paid him and closed the door.

"You sure you don't wanna eat?" He sat on the living room's couch. "I'm starving. You're exhausting."

"Good to know." I smiled and sat next to him. "I think I can try and eat something. But I actually don't really like Chinese."

"With whom did you learn to eat it?" He gave me one of the boxes. It was pretty clear that he'd ordered for both of us, hoping he'd manage to make me eat something.

"Jay. He loved it."

"Didn't you?"

"It's not my favourite food. I'd rather have steak and French fries. With lots of fat and salt. The kinda thing that doesn't exactly work well with a diet and that is very dangerous to your health."

"Smoking is more dangerous." He gave me an ironical smile. "When I have time enough, I'll take you to dinner and both of us will have steak and French fries. Deal?"

"Deal."

.x.

"Where are we going, Greg?" I asked, a little fearful, after he spent almost half an hour driving in circles in dark and empty streets.

"Relax, Jen! I'm not gonna park in one of these alleys and…-" He paused, but I told him to go on. "And rape you and kill you." He blushed. "I'm sorry. I see it everyday and… it ends up changing our sense of humour."

"It's okay. I know you won't. But, if you truly want to kill me someday, do it in a sexy way, right?"

"Jennifer!" He yelled my name, censoring me. I laughed.

"Where are we going, Gregory?"

"Dinner at the Bellagio." He answered, with simplicity. It was almost like he was used to having dinner at fancy hotels. "I'm becoming important because of my book. I got a room for us. What do you think about that?"

"We're having dinner at the Bellagio at 6pm?"

"Dinner at a room in the Bellagio. They're making your steak right now."

"Could it be more romantic?" I was a bit sarcastic, but, in all honesty, that was probably the most romantic thingy a guy had ever done for me.

"It could be in New York, with candles and the Statue of the Liberty and stuff… And, of course, it could be on a night we could actually spend together."

"Nothing is perfect, Sanders."

"I know." He smiled at me. "Look, I'll need to go to work, but they swore they'd pay for everything that I and my girl want. So, you're free to do whatever you want, except the casino. You're a minor."

"You'll go to the hotel after work?" We finally got to Flamingo St. after he turned a corner.

"I know it sucks. But I really love what I do."

"I know that. I just… wanted to spend the night with you."

"I'll do my best to get here early. And, when I do…-" Another corner, and he drove a few more feet to the Strip. "-We'll do whatever you want. I promise." He parked at the hotel's entrance and turned the car off. "It's not my dream date, Jen." He said, apologetically. "Especially since it's our first date. It's not what I'd usually do."

"Greg, for God's sake, shut up!" We got out of the car. "Look at this place! Nothing could be more perfect than it."

He gave the keys to one of the hotel's employees, who only waited for the bags to be taken out of the trunk before taking the car to the garage.

"You serious?"

"Of course I am! I've always wanted to spend a night here."

We walked to the front desk. A bleach-blonde woman opened a smile at us as we approached. "Good evening. Welcome to the Bellagio. How can I help you?"

"I have a reservation for tonight. A room for Greg Sanders." He threw his driver's license at the desk, in his typical blasé way.

"The girl's ID?" She asked. Greg and I looked at each other for a brief second, before I gave her my driver's license. The woman analised it with attention, seeming especially concerned about the huge difference between 1980 and 1990. When she gave us our documents and the room key, she looked at Greg, as if wondering if he didn't feel ashamed for that. I felt tempted to say 'not at all'. "Room 1402. Anything else?"

"We'll need another key. The dinner must be delivered in exactly one hour, at the room. She-" he pointed at me "-must be treated as well as I am. And everything she asks must go to my bill, that, as your boss and I agreed, is confidential and must be destroyed as soon as I check out." He paused, to make sure she didn't have any doubts. "Or I swear I'll make your life a hell." He opened his suit, to show her his badge. "Do we have a deal, angel?" A flirty smile appeared on his lips. She nodded, shyly, and gave us the other key.

"Enjoy you stay at the Bellagio", she said. Greg and I walked towards the elevators.

"Isn't that some kind of abuse of autority?" I asked when we were far enough not to be heard.

"Maybe, but it always works. And she'd never dare to complain about it." The elevator's doors opened and we were joined by two brunettes weaing the smallest skirts I'd ever seen. He couldn't help looking greedifully at them.

"Greg! We're on a date!"

The elevator stopped at their floor and they left it, laughing.

"You look beautiful jealous."

I didn't answer. The elevator stopped again, now at the 14th floor. I followed him to the door of room 1402. He opened the door and we got in the foyeur, my heels making a strange sound on the marble floor. Greg told me to see the room while he waited for the luggage. I didn't hesitate before obeying.

I was amazed by the two huge beds that stood side by side, both of them covered by a thick ivory blanket, faded-pink sheets and golden cushions. But it was only until I saw the lights of the Strip through the window - then, the whole world seemed to have disappeared. Automatically, I threw my purse on one of the beds and walked to it, staring astonished at the lights and the cars and the people.

I heard Greg thank someone, and then close the door. He put the bags on the bed and came to where I was.

"It's beautiful, ain't it?"

"It's fantastic." I couldn't manage to stop looking outside. "How come people want to leave somewhere so wonderful?"

"It may sound a little weird, but few people like living in Vegas. Especially minors."

I took a step back, letting him wrap his arms around my waist and laying my head against his shoulder. I wanted to enjoy the little bit of time we had together.

"I was gonna spend my prom night here." I whispered. He took me to the empty bed.

"With Jay?" I nodded, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He sat down next to me, looking at my face. "What really happened, Jen? It's not possible you got so bored that you gave up on something you were really enjoying."

"I don't wanna talk about it." I bit my lower lip. Remembering the hurt Jay caused, a lot. Because, even though I had never been truly in love with James, at least I hadn't cheated on him. "It had nothing to do with you, though."

"I guess not. You wouldn't be so silly."

"Not at all." I sat on the bed. "How long until dinner?"

"Half an hour."

I kissed him, carefully. It was impossible not to wonder if it was right - or if I was gonna get hurt in the end. But, when we were together everything felt perfect, and I couldn't help doing everything I wanted to. He parted the kiss, reluctantly, and looked at me, his eyes saying very clearly that if we didn't have time to do it right, we could'nt do it at all.

"Look… at the end of the month I'll have a party at one of my friend's house. If you haven't gotten tired of me yet, I'd like you to come."

"Why?"

"I want you to be there. With me. You took me to the lab to show me off. I just wanna do the same."

"I'll think about it, okay?" The mirror on the other wall reflected the disappointment in my face. "Jen, I work at night. Getting a day off is not as simple as skipping a cheerleader practice. I'd love to go, but I don't know if Grissom will let me go."

"Okay." I forced myself to show a smile. It might sound a little silly, but I could never get mad at someone who took me to a night at the Bellagio. "Greg, what happens if you're assigned to a case here today?"

"I'd tell Grissom I'm here as a manager's guest, he'd trade me with someone and I'd end up scuba diving in trash cans. You could say that my job is the most romantic of all." His face contorted in a moch worry expression. He got the telephone and dialled the front desk number. "Good evening, Rose", he said, using his Don Juan voice, using all of his self-control to avoid laughing. "This is CSI Sanders. Could you inform me if someone died here today?" He put the call in the speaker, so that I could hear her saying 'no, sir'. "Thank you, Rose."

Greg hung up and started laughing uncontrollably, until he started crying and his face got dangerously blushed. He forced himself to breath deeply and stopped laughing after a few minutes.

"I always wanted to do it", he panted.

"If the police knock on this door looking for a psychopath, I swear I'll kill you."

"Do it in a sexy way, please." He got off the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Get my hair ready for work." He wore a huge smile, showing me a latex glove he'd just taken off the bag. "Is there a problem with that?"

"What are you gonna do?"

Without an answer, he put the glove on his head, which made him look a little more weird than usual - and I'd already seen things such as the 'chess board' hair he'd used a few years before that. He took it off and threw the glove in the trashbin.

"Perfect." He fixed some of the locks and looked at me. "You look scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you. Couldn't you do it with a comb?" The doorbel rang and we left the bathroom.

"It doesn't look the same." He opened the door. One of the hotel employees came in the room, carrying a cart with our dinner. "You can put it on the table, please." The guy obeyed. Greg gave him the tip. "I'll take care of it. Thanks."

He closed the door and I followed him to the table. We sat and he gave me one of the porcelain plates. "Want me to do it for you?" I shook my head and he opened the fridge to get us two bottles of Coke.

"I'd have a wine now, but it's a little awkward seeing you staring at my glass. And, of course, I can't drink before going to work."

"It makes no sense." I analised my French fries, wondering how much time had passed since the last time I ate something like that. Maybe it was before James and I started dating. He was so into the whole 'I have a girlfriend that could be a model' thing that he'd never allow me to eat French fries.

"What makes no sense?"

"I'm old enough to have sex with you but I'm not old enough to drink. I mean… I can drive, vote, sleep with whomever I choose, live across the country, have a bank account, get in a hotel by myself… but I can't drink?"

"It's not a law if it makes sense. And, unfortunately, I don't make the laws."

"Is the food good enough for you?"

"It couldn't be better. Thank you for bringing me here, Greg. I truly don't deserve all of this."

"Oh, no you don't. Come on, Jen, we're sleeping together. It must mean something."

"Yeah, it does. It means I'm not delicate."

"You have no idea how grateful I am for it."

"I do. I can see it in your eyes."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Only at the right times." I smiled at him. "You must admit, after 18 years, reading you is rather easy." He rolled his eyes. "Easy enough for me to know there's something bugging you. What is it?"

"I gotta work today and I'll have to leave you all alone here. And, while I'm working my ass off to close yesterday's case, lots of guys will be taking care of you. I mean, you surely deserve it, but…-"

"You're jealous anyway."

"I'm not jealous. I just don't want it to end now."

"It won't. I promise."

He smiled. We didn't have anything serious, but what we had was good. Neither of us wanted to let it go.

.x.

Jen?" He whispered my name, entering the room. "Are you awake?" I said yes and turned the TV off. "Can you help me here?" Reluctantly, I got up and went to the foyeur, where he was standing, waiting for me, with another hotel employee. "What is this?"

"Desert. Can you take the glasses, please?" He showed me the two red wine glasses and grabbed the bottle. "I wanna sleep as quickly as possible."

"Tired, Greggo?"

"Very." We put the things on the table, and the hotel guy put the food near it. "Petit gâteau?"

I looked greedifully at the cupcakes, the ice cream and the chocolate syrup. Oh, I wanted. I definitely did. We sat at the table and heard the door being closed. He opened the wine bottle and filled the two glasses.

"You were right, you know? You should be able to do whatever you want."

I sipped at my wine, before eating a spoon full of vanilla ice cream. "You're like the perfect rich guy, Greg… there are few guys that would simply buy a bottle of wine at a hotel."

"I don't have anywhere to spend my money. I give myself those little pleasures sometimes."

"How was work today?"

"Nick and I closed a case and started a very interesting one. It was chaos, but Grissom set me free when I asked to come and see you."

"He did?"

"I promised, didn't I?"

"When was the last time I could believe you when you said you'd leave the lab early?"

"When was the last time I left you waiting for me at the Bellagio?"

We finished eating, before he closed the bottle and carried me to the bed.

"Sleep tight, Jenny," he whispered, hugging me.

"You too, darling."

.x.

We woke up at eleven o' clock, both of us seeming quite annoyed by the weird schedules and even worse rules. He got off the bed and chose a new shirt from the bag. While he was locked in the bathroom, I changed my clothes in the bedroom. I put my shoes on and sat on one of the chairs to brush my hair while I waited for him.

"Good morning, Miss Sunshine," he laughed at my visibly grumpy mood, which was a classic of the first hours after waking up. "How was your night?"

"Fine," I mumbled, before entering the bathroom to finish getting ready to go. I heard the glasses tinkling, and assumed the rest of the wine would be our breakfast. Or, at least, a large part of it. I came back to the bedroom, where he waited for me with both glasses in hand. He gave me one of them and sipped at his. He threw the clothes in the suitcase and closed it, before sitting on the bed. I followed him.

"Are you still tired?" I asked, shyly. I wasn't exactly good at being a sweet girl when I still needed another three hours sleeping.

"I don't need to sleep. Why?"

"I'll sleep all the way home. I'm exhausted."

"I can give you many reasons to stay awake." He drank the rest of the wine and refilled the glass. "But it's up to you."

"I'm sorry, but I'll pass," I smiled. We finished the bottle, grabbed the bags and left the hotel.

"What did you do last night?" He asked, as soon as we got to the Strip.

"Many things, but only the masseur was a man, I swear," I looked at him, appreciating the effect of the information. "A fantastic man, with the best hands I've ever seen."

"You love older men, don't you?"

"They're way better than the guys my age."

He bit his lip, seeming worried. I looked out at the window, to see the casinos and hotels. Many of the lights were off. Vegas wasn't as beautiful in the morning as it was in the nights.

"And today? Plans?"

"I need to enroll at UNLV."

"When are you going to do the Academy?"

"Right after I finish college. I don't think I'll get another degree."

"You're really willing to work in the lab, aren't you?"

"Yeah. But I know I gotta graduate first."

"Take it slow, my baby."

"I hate it when you call me your baby."

"Ten years from now, you'll look at yourself at the mirror and think you are a baby. Maturity comes after 15 years in the Crime Lab. I'm nine years away."

"You're a child."

"Yeah. A cute and funny toddler."

"Do you work today?"

"Sure! I don't think I'll go on vacation anytime soon. Staying at home makes me feel… useless. Why?"

"Then, I think I'll go out today."

"I can't tell you not to, because I know you only do what you want to. But I can ask you to be reasonable, can't I? I don't wanna take you off the jail 'cause you got caught drinking."

"I won't get caught, daddy. And I promise I'll remember to use a condom if I have sex with someone, even though I take the pill. Any more advice?"

"I'd love to know you won't smoke an entire pack tonight." I laughed.

"I'll try ad remember that before asking someone to give me a cigarette." His look censored me, but he didn't say a word. He knew better than to argue with me.

We got home and he said he need to go to the grocery store, so I'd need to go upstairs alone. I left the car and closed the door, before hearing the window being opened. "Just remember me, okay?" He asked, before closing the window and leaving. I only watched the Toyota disappear, wondering if it would be possible to forget him.