Sorry for the delay; I'm basically grounded, so I'm circumventing the rules for your sake. Here's Part 10 of the Quince series. Love you all, and please review!

It was the end of a long day, the fifth long day in a long week in a long month in what had probably been the longest year of his life. Everyone was glad for the break, but three CSIs, including him, weren't particularly focused. Something was on their minds.

Of course, Horatio was staying later, as he had a habit of doing. Calleigh was headed home for some relaxation(or, more likely, to Eric) and had ordered everyone that this was a weekend in which she was not to be disturbed. Walter was planning on whooping some ass in his neighborhood's basketball game. Even Maxine was going to enjoy the weekend; in typical Valera fashion, she planned on celebrating her 30th birthday in a Miami nightclub, dancing provocatively, drinking as many shots of tequila as she could, and finding a hot guy who could manage to take her home without both of them passing out.

But CSIs Wolfe, Cardoza, and Boa Vista were all much more distracted, much more pensive, than the rest of them. Natalia smoothed down her hair as she looked in her locker mirror.

"LBD or red skirt?" she asked herself aloud.

"You going out tonight?" Jesse asked her nonchalantly.

"Yeah," she said, trying not to look at him. Something about the situation, for some reason, just didn't seem right. "Seems like a nice enough guy, but I'm not quite sure about him."

"Ah," Jesse nodded understandingly. He whispered in her ear, "Either would look great," then shot her one last smile and shut his locker, walking away with what could only be described as a spring in his step.

"So. You and Jesse, huh?"

Ryan's emotionless, unsurprised words echoed around the locker room, which was empty with the exception of himself and Natalia.

She turned around to face him. "Uh, yeah," she said a little tightly. "He seems nice enough. Kind of cute. I think I'd like to get to know him better."

Ryan looked at her a little funny. "You've known the guy for only a couple of weeks and you're already breaking out the stilettos?"

A mirthless laugh ripped its way awkwardly out of her throat. "You judging me, Ryan?" she asked.

"No," he said, continuing to search his locker for any inch of dust he didn't particularly like. He stood up and looked her in the eye. "I would never judge you," he said, with a tenderness that brought comparisons to Eric Delko's speech towards Calleigh. "It's him I'm worried about."

Natalia watched him closely as he went back to what he was doing. His hands slowly wiped away any extra dust, the muscles in his arms tightening and relaxing as he worked. As Natalia found herself unnaturally mesmerized by something so little, so utterly insignificant, it vaguely occurred to her that this was the first time she'd noticed that she really liked the color of Ryan's eyes.

Damn.

This was not good. She was thinking about Ryan when she really should have been focusing on what a catch Jesse was. Something had to be seriously wrong with her. Maybe she was running a low—grade fever. The crime scene and her lab had been unnaturally cold today, after all. She almost hoped she was seriously ill. Maybe dying of a tropical disease would, in effect, solve all of her problems.

Before Ryan could get the wrong idea, Natalia regained her composure. "Thanks for your concern, Ryan," she said lightly, "but I'll be fine."

He shot her a skeptical look.

"Really?"

She nodded, blinking back a hormonal tear or two in the process. "Really, Ryan," she said, "I'll be okay."

"You'll let me know if you need anything?"

"Why would…"

"A couple of contacts I have at LAPD mentioned that Jesse wasn't exactly the most…gentlemanly of detectives."

"Ryan…"

"Look, I'm not saying you have to check in with me every five minutes like you're eleven, but, please, just let me know how everything goes." He turned away from Natalia and finished cleaning out the last of his locker, determined that she wouldn't see the look in his eyes that went far past platonic affection.

She sighed noticeably. "Okay, Ryan," she groaned. "But this trust thing goes both ways. If you try to check up on me, you're a dead man."

"Deal."

"If you get Calleigh and Delko to eat dinner at the same place as me and Jesse, you're dead."

"Fine."

"If I become the subject of a betting pool, I'll know who to blame. Get it?"

He groaned in exasperation. He'd gotten the gist of it before the conversation even started, before Jake and Calleigh had been together, even. Of course, he wouldn't be getting anywhere if he tried to explain that to Natalia; she usually preferred to deal in reality, not abstract metaphors. "Got it."

"Good." She slammed the locker shut and slung her oversized pocketbook over her shoulder. She started to walk but then thought better of it and turned around, walking back towards Ryan, the sound of her heels clickety-clacking against the floor. As he turned around, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug that managed to both warm her up and freeze her insides.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then, she bit her lip, dropped her hands to her sides like he was a disease, and clickety-clacked away, leaving Ryan to watch her move toward the guy who had the worst track record with women that he'd ever seen.