ai)
Her smile was as bright as the Vegas lights.
Gap-toothed. Mega-watted. Sincere.
And it made his heart flip over more than Norman the Dummy did falling from that hotel rooftop.
ii)
Their fingers touch as he hands her the fingerprint powder and brush.
As he slides past her, he can feel her warm breath on his neck.
Their hips bump for a moment as he turns to look for Catherine.
Thank God for airplane bathrooms.
iii)
He was surprised when she turned up, with a blanket and a thermos full of coffee to boot.
As she slid the blanket around his shoulders, shivers ran up and down his spine.
And it wasn't because of the cold.
Maybe decomposing pigs were more romantic than he thought.
iv)
He'd nearly gotten a heart attack when the "rapist" grabbed her. He was the first one to ask if she was alright, to comfort her, to berate her for doing something so dangerous in the first place.
They knew he didn't need to be there at all. What was a CSI Supervisor doing in the back seat of an unmarked FBI truck, watching the TV screens following a pretty brunette dressed in orange?
Looking after his girl, of course.
