Shhh… We're playing a game. Mommy said to sit here and be very quiet. The quietest one wins. I'm winning. Mommy was being noisy. Someone was yelling and then there was a loud bang. A couple of them. She must be playing with fireworks. Like the Fourth of July. But now there is no sound. It's really quiet. I'm kind of getting scared. Mommy must really want to win.

It was usually Morgan's favorite time of the year. Christmas songs on the radio, holiday drinks at Starbucks (the taste of gingerbread latte was still on her lips…yum), sappy Hallmark movies, and good will towards men…well, for the most part. She didn't get to see much of the good will bit considering her job dealt mainly with the darker side of humanity, but still, it was there in some aspects. A friendly smile from a co-worker. A lab tech cheerfully humming carols while wearing a ridiculous red hat. And of course, the annual secret santa exchange at the office.

But this year, her heart just wasn't in it. Especially when she pulled his name out of the bag. It was exactly what she had been dreading, and seeing it in print didn't make matters any better.

"It's okay, no big deal. You can do this, Brody," she whispered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath as she crumpled the small slip of paper in her fist. "So what if it's Greg? It was just one night. It meant nothing. Besides it's just a harmless gift. A stupid work tradition, nothing else."

She opened her eyes, catching a glimpse of Greg standing across the room talking with the newest CSI on the team, Kimberly- a gorgeous brunette. Kimberly laughed at something he had said and playfully pushed his shoulder, causing Greg to grin. God, she missed that smile, but the sight of it made her heart sink, a rock settling in the pit of her stomach. Crap. Despite her earlier pep talk, she knew she couldn't handle this.

"Pst, Lindsay,"she turned to the younger colleague next to her, "trade me names."

Lindsay's eyes shifted as she worried her lower lip. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Morgan eyed the paper clutched in Lindsay's hand. She reached for it, but Lindsay was too fast, pulling away swiftly.

"Let me see who you have," Lindsay suggested. "Maybe I can help you think of a gift or something. I mean, it can't be that bad…" Her voice drifted off into a soft whisper as Morgan sighed, opening up the crinkled piece of paper. "Oh…I see." Lindsay's gaze landed on the flirtatious scene between Greg and Kimberly before it turned back to Morgan. "God, Morgan, I'm so sorry. I wish I could help, but…" She made a quick glance at her watch. "Gee, look at the time. I have to go."

And with that, the redhead scurried out of the room before Morgan could stop her. Morgan heaved another sigh and then cringed as Kimberly's high pitched laugh rang out in her ears. There no longer seemed to be enough oxygen in the room. Without looking back, she made a beeline for the exit. Yep, life officially sucked. Holiday cheer or not.

"Greg?" Kimberly's quiet whine drew his attention away from the blonde walking out the door. Damn it! No matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about Morgan.

"Huh?" His eyes trailed back to the door. She was gone.

"I was wondering what you were doing after the office party on Friday. If you're not busy, maybe we could grab a drink or something?" Kimberly's desperate smile bothered him, just like her hand brushing down his sleeve and gently squeezing his arm.

"You know, I think I'm working overtime on Friday. Will you excuse me?" He backed out of her reach and headed in the direction Morgan had gone.

He spotted her down the hall, talking to Sean Yeager, the swing shift guy who was currently working nights due to the large personnel loss lately. She was smiling and laughing at something Yeager had said. He hated seeing her talking with another guy. A new potential boyfriend. It feel like a knife slicing through him just thinking about her moving on with someone else. Especially someone like Yeager who looked more like a male model than a scientist. The ladies of the lab even had a nickname for him: McYummy. Something juvenile they had stolen from some popular tv show. Whatever. All Greg knew was that he was competition. Competition Greg planned on annihilating to win Morgan's affections once again.

Yes, this whole thing was his fault, but that didn't mean he couldn't rectify it. He just needed a chance to explain. Everything had been for her anyway. She would understand if she would just listen. And if that didn't work then he would get on his knees and grovel. Because he missed her. His world was empty without her.

Sherry, Ecklie's secretary, tapped Morgan on the shoulder. Good, maybe she could steer her away from Yeager. Greg watched as Sherry pointed up to something hanging from the ceiling above Morgan and Yeager. He squinted, trying to seeing what she was motioning to. It looked like a piece of green fuzz. His blood ran cold when he realized what it was, seconds too late to do anything as Yeager gave a shit-eating grin leaning down to kiss Morgan under the mistletoe.

He never knew just watching something could cause such physical pain before. His stomach clenched and his chest tightened as Morgan's lips pressed against Yeager' it possible to die from heartbreak? If so, he might have right then because his heart was crumbling to pieces inside him. He could feel it. He turned to leave, unable to stomach it any more when he ran smack into Catherine.

"Greg, hello to you too," she said, giving him a strange look. "Why are you in such a hurry?" She glanced over his shoulder. "Oh! Sorry. That sucks." She gave him a pitying smile. "Actually, you are just the guy I was looking for. I need you and Morgan to process a house over in Summerlin. Female DB."

Greg nodded, not making eye contact. "Sure. I'll go get Morgan." He closed his eyes, sighing.

"No need," Catherine said, waving her hand. "MORGAN!" she shouted. "YOU AND GREG. CASE IN SUMMERLIN. SMOOCH McYUMMY ON YOUR OWN TIME."

She winked and patted Greg on the back, handing over the file. "Better?"

No. But it would be. He was determined to make it so. He just hoped she would give him the chance to.

Mortified or Satisfied? She didn't know what she felt at the moment. On one hand, she was mortified that the whole lab had witnessed Yeager basically maul her mouth. Not that she wanted it or him. Embarrassment heated her cheeks as she finally escaped Sean's grasp thanks to Catherine's humiliating shouts. The last thing she needed people to think was that she was the office whore, first the whole thing with Greg and now kissing Sean. Ugh.

On the other hand, it was exactly the kind of situation she had hoped Greg would catch her in. Payback for all the pain he caused her. Still caused her, because as she saw the hurt angry expression crossing his face, she didn't feel justified. No, she feel all the devastation return, weighing down on her again the same way it did the night they… No, she would not go there. She couldn't cry here, not with everyone watching, especially him. Great. And she now had to work the rest of the night with him.

"Morgan?"

"Huh?" Her attention turned back to Yeager who was looking at her a little too eagerly.

"I was just asking about Friday. You and me getting together after the party? What'd you say?" Crap. How could she rephrase "hell no" politely?

"Um…," she started. Greg was now walking towards them. Like the situation wasn't awkward enough already. "Maybe. Let me get back to you. You know, duty calls." She shot Yeager a half grimace that she prayed he mistook for the smile she had intended.

"You ready, Brody?" Greg practically growled, glaring at Yeager.

"Yep." Nope. Sometimes, it was all too much.

The house was dark when they arrived, illuminated only by the police's flashing red and blue and the sad string of lights blinking on the Christmas tree visible from the window. The ride over had been uncomfortable at best with neither of them speaking, Greg pursing his lips as he focused on the road while Morgan stared out the window. Four years spent building a close friendship, and with one night, he destroyed everything. And now it was too late. Morgan was moving on, and with Yeager no less. Just the thought caused Greg to grit his teeth.

The detective met them at the door.

"The victim is a woman in her mid twenties. Based on the id we found in her purse, her name's Sasha Reynolds. Two gun shots to the chest and one to the head. Nothing seems to be out of place. Probably can rule out robbery," he said, moving the yellow police tape to let them pass.

"Any witnesses?" Greg asked, frowning as he took in the juxtaposing scene of the dead body splayed a few feet from the Christmas tree and fireplace where two stockings were hung with obvious care. Blood pooled underneath the woman. Her frozen blue-eyed stare sent a chill down his spine.

"No, none so far. The neighbors called it in. Said they heard gunfire." The detective shook his head. "Beautiful girl. It's a damn shame."

Morgan began documenting the evidence, snapping photos of the deceased. Greg walked the rest of the house looking for traces of the killer. It was a nice home, lots of knick knacks and family photos. It sort of reminded him of Nana Olaf's house. Cozy. Warm. Inviting. Like somewhere he would want to raise a family someday. He studied the pictures hanging on the wall beneath the staircase. Most were of Sasha and a young child, a little girl with the same chestnut hair and haunting eyes as her mother.

"Morgan, the victim had a daughter and there is no sign of a father from the family portraits. Where do you think she is?"

Morgan stopped taking pictures and moved towards Greg. He sucked in a breath, feeling her presence so close to him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?" he turned to her, their eyes locking.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hmm.." God, she smelled good.

"That noise. It sounds like it's coming from there." She pointed to the hall closet, drawing Greg attention to the sound.

They opened the coatroom door, gasping at the little girl huddled in the dark corner.

"Shh," the child said, holding her finger to her lips, "We're playing a game…"

To be continued…