Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: So this is another from the 'Consequences, Baby' universe. I rated it M, but it's probably T. Not much smut... :)

Hope you enjoy!

"Mo-om!" I called, glancing anxiously at the clock. Nathan was going to be here any minute and she said she was going to come help me. I had spent the entire day with my friends—getting our hair and nails done… and I'd gotten my eyebrows waxed for the first time. It had hurt… a lot. But they were at home now, waiting for their own dates, and my mom was supposed to be up here, helping me tackle this dress. I sighed impatiently, stomping my foot.

Sure, I could go out and get her… it wasn't like my dad had never seen me in a tank top and underwear… but Andy was six, and he'd just learned that certain words made Dad laugh, Mom get mad, and me chase him around the damn house trying to smack him. 'Certain words' would be 'boobies' if you hadn't caught on. I had taken to wearing much higher collared shirt in the last month. Plus, Uncle Andrew was coming over soon… I didn't want to go for a walk and spend the next year getting teased about streaking.

I sighed, fed up. "Mo-om!!"

It was seconds before my door swung open and my mom walked in, her hair frazzled. "Good gracious, Halle, I yelled that I was coming. Your brother just broke a vase and of course your dad and Uncle Andrew think that anything that happens while a game in on becomes my responsibility." She huffed and I frowned. "Well, anyway, I'm here and you look beautiful honey. Let's get you into that dress…"

I smiled. My mom might get easily distracted—especially when Andrew was causing problems and my dad was being indulgent rather than helpful—but she cared a hell of a lot more than most of my friend's mothers. She often said the devil was in the details—and my mom knew details.

Together we pulled my dress from the closet—dark blue. My mom said it brought out my eyes, my dad said it made my red hair brighter, Uncle Andrew had laughed and asked if Dad was going to let me leave the house in it… Andy had pointed and said 'Boobies!' …Mom sent him to his room.

Still—I liked it. It was strapless, with an empire waist, and the bottom was poofy, like a princess dress. And it sparkled—the best part. But the poofiness meant that I had to step into it, rather than pull it over my head, and Mom had to arrange the netting underneath and zip me up. I stepped in, pulling my tank top over my head with my mother's help so I didn't ruin my hair, and then held the dress to my chest so she could zip me up the back.

Even though that was the extent of the help I needed, my mom sat on my bed instead of leaving, choosing to stay with me while I put in the faux-diamond earrings that dangled in a long strand, almost to my bare shoulders, and then hooked a real diamond-studded butterfly necklace around my neck. It was a present for my sweet sixteen from my parents. It was topped off by a tennis bracelet my dad had given my mom when they first got together… My mom didn't warn me to be careful with it, but I could still remember the tears in her eyes when she opened it. I knew that it was precious, and that they were both placing no small amount of trust in me by letting me wear it.

My make up was done, but I still leaned close to the mirror, touching up here and there, worried. Mom stood up. "Halle, hon, you look beautiful. You don't need to fix a thing."

I bit my bottom lip, glancing over my face. I couldn't see anything at the moment, but then I'd leave my make up and go down for pictures and realize something major. Or worse—I wouldn't notice until I got to the school. The doorbell rang and my mom and I both saw the panic flicker in my reflection's eyes. She smiled, gripping my shoulders and kissing my cheek softly.

"I'll go down and make sure they're nice to him. You come down in a minute or so… make him sweat a little." She nudged me and I giggled, hugging her tightly before she left.

I glanced in the mirror again, frowning. I didn't want to be alone for two minutes… I'd been avoiding being alone all day. Because even though my mom was great—I loved her so much—I couldn't help wishing my other mom—the one I still called 'Mommy' in my head—could be here for this. And then I'd feel guilty for missing her when I had my mom, no matter how much she and Dad told me not to feel guilty.

I avoided thinking about it as much as possible.

I paced a few times and then figured I had made him wait as long as I could stand. I slipped into my shoes, checked my hair and make up again, and took a deep breath, moving over to my door and walking out to pause once more at the stairs. I walked down slowly, and just as slowly, Nathan came into view. He looked super cute in his tux with the vest and tie that matched my dress. I beamed, and he gave me a shy smile.

At the bottom of the stairs, I could see my dad and my Uncle Andrew sitting in the living room. Uncle Andrew had laughter in his eyes so I knew something had to be wrong. I glanced around again—my mom was smiling, holding a camera in one hand and my brother's hand in the other. Andy opened his mouth and her hand released his to cover his mouth—she bent to say something to him, and whatever it was it stopped the exclamation that was certain to embarrass me if it came out. Then I saw what my dad was holding—my mom's service weapon. He'd didn't have one now that he was teaching.

My eyes got wide. "Dad!"

He tried to look innocent but his lips kept twitching back in a grin he couldn't hide entirely. "What Halle? I was just cleaning it when Nathan here came… I didn't mean anything by it." At my glare, he laughed again. "It's dangerous to not clean guns regularly, Halle…"

I rolled my eyes and turned to my date. "Hi."

"Hi. You… you look really pretty." He said, blushing. I beamed. Nathan and I weren't 'dating' yet… I was the only girl on my school's baseball team. There was girls' softball, but I'd grown up playing baseball with my dad. I couldn't hit as hard as the guys, but I was the best shortstop on the team and I was fast. Nathan was on the team with me, and three weeks ago we'd kissed after practice.

I'd been dirty and sweaty, my hair pulled through the loop of my baseball cap and matted… everyone else had left early, because it was our week to clean up the equipment. We were walking to our respective locker rooms, teasing each other, laughing, and he turned to me, paused, and kissed me. I had been too surprised, at first, to kiss him back and he'd pulled back, apologizing and taking off his cap in agitation, and I'd kissed him.

It was short and sweet, and he'd asked me to prom, and then we'd headed to separate locker rooms. We'd talked and flirted, since, but nothing had really come of it. But he still looked excited and shy, so I was pretty sure he still liked me. He was smart, and funny, and cute… and understood baseball on an intellectual level as much as on a physical level.

"Okay, kids, we gotta take lots of pictures for grandma." My mom broke in, passing Andy to my uncle because my dad still held the gun in his lap and hurrying up to us. "Now, Nathan, does your mom want some copies of these? I'll print out doubles and leave them on the table so Halle can get them to you when you drop her off after the after party."

"Thanks, Mrs. St—Grissom." I rolled my eyes—the name situation was confusing enough without my mom throwing the whole thing off. My last name was Stevens, because that was my adoptive parents' name. My dad's last name was Grissom, and my mom had remained 'Sidle' because she was a raging feminist who somehow found it more troublesome to take her husband's name than to keep her father's… who I'm pretty sure had been abusive.

I mean, she'd never said as much, but from the way she and Uncle Andrew talked sometimes…

She smiled. "Just Sara is fine, dear. Okay, get together… say 'Prom!'"

"Oh!" Nathan turned to me, lifting the plastic container with my corsage in it. "I… I have this… for you."

I smiled. "It's beautiful… I… have a boutonniere, for you. Hang on…"

I hurried into the kitchen, pulling out his flower—a single white rose with blue ribbon. We'd thought that that was simple enough that we'd match without going to pick the flowers out together. And I was right—my wrist corsage was five white roses and lots of sparkly blue ribbon. He slipped it on my wrist, his fingers warm and calloused, and then I struggled to pin his boutonniere onto his jacket for so long I got frustrated and once again, my mom helped.

We took pictures for what seemed like forever, and then finally I was hugging my family members—even Andy, who up 'til now had been good—and waving goodbye. My dad had hugged me and then laid a hand on Nathan's shoulder and raised his eyebrows, like he was reminding him of the warning I was sure he'd already given. And then we were headed out into the night—Andy shouting something that thankfully I don't think Nathan heard—to meet Melissa and her date and his best friend Cody and his date—some girl we didn't know very well—at the restaurant.

I was nervous and I could tell Nathan was too—but I was excited. We were going to prom!

I don't care if Sara says that Halle's responsible and smart—that she won't put herself into a bad situation. Prom night in Vegas was always terrible at the lab… I couldn't help remembering all the horrible cases we'd seen… and not just the death, but the stuff that I never would have seen if it hadn't killed someone. The drugs, the alcohol, the sex and the sex games… it was horrible, but the thought of Halle being close to any of that… it was enough to make a gun-hating ex-CSI/boring teacher break out his wife's weapon and play the stereotype.

He seemed like a nice boy—Halle had told Sara he was on her baseball team. I wasn't tuned in to the workings of teenage girls, but Sara had reassured me that it wasn't serious yet. Nathan hadn't called her and Halle hadn't asked that we add his number to her cell phone's list of acceptable numbers—after the things we've seen, can you blame us for being protective parents? We trusted Halle, but we weren't going to let her stay out all night either.

So they were friends—maybe they'd kissed. Sara said she thought it might have happened. But nothing serious. So that was better than her having a serious boyfriend who would convince her that prom night was the perfect moment for some skuzzy, dirty, teenage boy to deflower my angel. Just the thought made me angry.

But Halle did have a phone, she was going with Melissa, who she'd been friends with for years—they'd look out for each other—they were going to the school after party, and Halle didn't drink. It would be fine. She'd heard the don't-drink-anything-you-don't-open-yourself talk about a hundred times since she started needing to wear deodorant and a bra. Really. Fine.

Sara's brother—Andrew—seemed to find my concern hilarious. He was worried about Halle too, of course—he'd been a teenage boy—but he wasn't her father. It was different. Sara had rolled her eyes, but I think she liked the idea that I was being the hard ass so she could focus on being supportive for Halle. At the very least, she didn't say anything about the gun.

Now as long as we could keep Andy and his favorite new word from coming out—learned thanks to his namesake's penchant for watching shows like "MANswers" in front of him—it would be fine.

The doorbell rang while Sara was upstairs with Halle, so that left either me or Andrew to open the door. Seeing that Andy was on Andrew's lap, I set the gun on the table, catching his eye to make sure he would hold on to the six year old, and moved to the door. Granted, Andy knew better than to touch Mommy's gun, but I wasn't going to leave it to chance.

I opened the door, and a nervous looking kid in a ill-fitted tuxedo stood there, shuffling his feet. "Hi Mr. S—Grissom."

I smiled. "Nathan, isn't it? Come on in… Halle will be down in a minute."

He came inside and I closed the door behind him with just the tiniest bit more force than necessary. He jumped. I moved back to the gun, beginning to clean in, taking satisfaction from the fact that his eyes were locked on in. "So—what's the plan for tonight?"

"We, uh… well… we're eating at Wolfgang Puck's, at the MGM, and… and then we're going to the school, for the dance. There's an after party at the bowling alley, 'til three… Sorry, uh… Ace of Spades Lanes…" I smiled. He was scared, and polite. Both good signs.

"So you'll have her home… around three thirty?"

He swallowed. "Hopefully… there are four proms tonight, and it's a Saturday… in Vegas. I… traffic…"

I took pity on the boy. "Four then?"

He sighed in obvious relief. "Yeah. Yes. Yes, sir." He swallowed again. I'm pretty sure he was sweating.

"Great." I said, relaxing back but continuing to maneuver the gun in my hands, even though it no longer needed any cleaning. "You know, Halle's my only little girl… my first child… my first teenager. You could say I'm… protective."

He shuffled his feet. "I, uh… I'm not… I won't… I respect Halle a lot, Sir."

I nodded. "I'm sure you do. Really—You wouldn't be taking her out if I wasn't sure. She's a beautiful little girl, and I can't tell you how many times I've already lost her…"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, she's… she told me. We, uh… we're been good friends, way before we… before… prom." He swallowed again, and I grit my teeth. So they had kissed. That wasn't a big deal. She was sixteen. She was going to kiss boys. I sighed.

"Exactly. So you understand why, even if I believe you respect her, I have to let you know that I know just about every member of Las Vegas' PD. You touch her in any way she doesn't want you to, you're going away for rape. If something… extreme… should take place—and I don't believe it will," I told him with a look that said it better not, "…despite how beautiful Halle is… I know every major lawyer in the state. Your parents will lose their house trying to pay child support. Do you understand me?"

His hands actually shook, but he nodded. And then Sara appeared, and I had the bad feeling that she'd heard this conversation. She cleared her throat, stepping down from the final step of the staircase. "Gil… what are we doing?"

I shrugged. No reason to give myself away if she hadn't heard. "Just getting to know Nathan here…"

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on the gun. She turned to the boy instead, speaking softly. "He's giving you a hard time, Nathan. We trust you. You look very handsome tonight."

"Th-thank you." He stuttered out. Sara smiled.

"Great game last week—Gil won't tell you this, but he thinks you're the best pitcher in the state. Have you had any recruiters talk to you yet?"

I scowled. Sara was taking this whole 'be nice' thing a little far. He seemed to find this conversation more comforting. "A few… my mom wants me to stay close to home, though, and my dad says we want the schools who care more about my grades than my arm."

Andy was squirming to get down, so Sara moved to scoop him up and took a seat on the couch. "Well, your dad's a smart man. One injury could end a career before it starts—you want to have something to fall back on."

He nodded, and then there was a creak on the stairs and the bottom of Halle's dress appeared on the stairs, slowly descending. The dress was not particularly risqué—according to Sara, it had been rather tame compared to some she'd seen—but I didn't like the slight line of cleavage at the top of the way it fit against her frame. I found myself wishing she were built more like her mother than mine—she had a fuller figure than Sara, and while I found Sara's body wonderfully erotic, I still would have preferred Halle have the same one… because, then, at least, she could cover it more easily.

"Hi," she said shyly, and his response was just as timid. I breathed a sigh of relief—this was not the interactions of two teenagers who would let their hormones take control tonight. At least—not beyond maybe some making out and touching over the clothes. Probably not even that. I didn't like that idea, but it was better than a myriad of alternatives that had been circling my brain, making me drag out the gun in the first place.

Sara fluttered around them, taking too many pictures and keeping Andy from commenting on the line of cleavage I so disapproved of. And then they were leaving, and I was hugging my princess—my baby girl—and telling her how beautiful she looked… because she did. She was an absolute vision, and the scrawny teenage boy beside her didn't know how lucky he was to have her on his arm tonight. I put my hand on the boy's shoulder, just as an extra reminder, and watched them walk out, Andy screaming 'Boobies!' as they left, hopefully too late for it to be heard.

Sara sent him to his room while Andrew laughed and plopped back down to watch the game he'd DVR-ed.

"So—your baby is off to her first prom. Nervous? Gonna wait up until four to make sure she gets home safe?"

"No." I said, knowing full well that I wouldn't sleep soundly until she was tucked safely back into her bed. "I trust her."

"Yeah…" He said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "But you don't trust the kid. Hell, I don't blame you—I wouldn't trust a teenage boy either."

I grumbled, trying to focus on the game. He wasn't helping.

We ate and Andrew left, leaving Sara and I to put Andy to bed and then sit in our bedroom, wide awake and fretting.

"She's gonna be fine. I mean—she's a smart girl. She won't take any risks."

Sara smiled, but it was half-hearted. "I know… she's with Melissa, only going to school events."

I nodded, leaning back against the pillows, biting the inside of my cheek in frustration. "Did you go to prom?"

I couldn't believe I'd never asked my wife this question… but I hadn't. It had been seventeen years since we'd met, seven since we'd been married, we had a six and a sixteen year old… and I didn't know if she'd gone to prom. She chuckled, presumably thinking the same thing.

"No—I could have, but I was two years younger than the rest of the seniors, and I was never super popular anyway… ill-fitted clothes from the foster homes, more interested in books than boys, choosing science over makeup…"

I leaned over and kissed her. "I would have taken you."

She gave me a curious smile. "Did you go to yours?"

I shook my head, smiling and wrapping an arm around her. "No—there wasn't anyone as beautiful as you… and as I couldn't travel to Tomales Bay to take the three year old Sara Sidle to the prom…"

She rolled her eyes, pushing my shoulder. "Be serious."

I chuckled. "I told you, I was a ghost. I didn't even have nerd friends like you… the prom wasn't really my thing."

She laughed. "Oh, but you look so sexy in a tux…"

I grinned. "You think so…? Maybe I'll have to wear a tux more often…"

She kissed me—slowly, but fiercely, igniting a fire with the contact. Her eyes were lidded when she pulled back and met mine. "I'd like you better in nothing at all…"

My grin widened. "Are you trying to seduce me on prom night? 'Cause I'm not that easy…"

Her hand slid slowly from the center of my chest and down my body. "No? …My mom told me that no teenage boy is gonna say no to sex."

I chuckled and then drew in breath as her hand slid over me through my jeans. "I, uh… I have very strong morals… My mom told me that catholic boys didn't have sex before marriage."

"Mmm," she murmured, her clever little mouth already pressed to the side of my neck, eliciting chills. "I thought you weren't really catholic…"

"Oh yeah…" She didn't bother unbuttoning my shirt—she straddled my hips and ripped it apart. At my raised eyebrows, she chuckled.

"Car sex is hard enough without worrying about buttons… I never thought my first time would be in the back seat on prom night."

I roll my eyes. "First time, please. What sixteen year old virgin straddles her boyfriend and rips his shirt off?"

The grin she gives is wicked—it sends fire straight down my spine to pool between my legs on the growing erection there. "This one…"

I growled—actually growled—at her words, rolling her over and tearing her clothes off as well. It was rare we had a night to ourselves… I wasn't going to waste it.

We did fall asleep, afterwards, but I woke up out of dead sleep at exactly three o'clock. I left Sara curled up in bed, naked and beautiful, and pulled on pajama pants and a robe, to wait downstairs for my baby to come home.

Deep down, of course, I knew that she was fine. She was a responsible girl, and there were about three times as many cops on duty tonight than normal, because of the proms… I would have known the minute anything happened. But I just needed—as a father—to make sure that she came home, safely, and curled up in bed, where I could protect her. No matter how old she got, or how mature, how successful or how experienced with the whole dating thing… that desire to protect her from the world would never go away. For a few more years, at least, I could see her tucked safely into her bed at night… I wasn't going to start slacking now.