This is a crossover in which Charlie McDonnell and Alex Day meet two of the CSIs. After watching Charlie's Fun Science video about randomness, I got the idea that perhaps they did something naughty to get them in trouble with the LVPD, but then this came about instead. I hope you like it, because I enjoyed writing this a lot more! :)

The casino was unusually quiet. The customers, both suckers and winners, were huddled near the doorway, eager for when the officers would allow them to leave. Homicide at the Bellagio was all that Brass had told them, clearly expectant that they would be able to figure out the rest. Greg smirked to himself as he imagined Brass in jeans and a T-shirt, searching for hairs and crawling around on the ground, searching for some kind of trace evidence.

I can barely take him seriously in that suit, Greg thought. Him in a T-shirt…a band shirt, no less, with a vibrant picture of Marilyn Manson on the front. Now there's a picture I'd put on my office wall.

As if he could read Greg's mind, Brass shot him an angry glare from across the room. Greg held up his hands in defense and quickly turned on his flashlight to show Brass that yes, he was working, and can you please keep your creepily owl-like eyes off of him?

Greg's mind formed a new picture, this time one of Brass with an owl beak strutting around with that Marilyn Manson T-shirt. Okay, brain, calm down. Time to actually focus.

However, his brain did not listen to him for long. Soon after the owl-mind-picture incident, something new distracted him in a much more pleasant way: the very-enjoyable view of a certain backside that'd had his mind caught and chained for the past year. Greg forced his eyes back onto the ground before they involuntarily-or so he told himself-rode back up to Morgan's posterior.

I did read somewhere that the best way to do your work is to take short breaks every thirty minutes…or was it every five…

Despite the pleasant break, Greg's eyebrows furrowed once he noticed who the owner of that posterior was talking to. Morgan's blond hair bounced as she threw her head back and laughed at something the young man in front of her said. His jaw was slightly crooked, and he had a messy puff of dark brown hair on top of his head. He said something after Morgan had stopped laughing, and Greg distinctly heard a strong English accent erupt from that mischievous-looking smirk. Beside, another young man in turquoise-colored jeans that Greg assumed was his friend added in a quick remark, and the CSI heard a slightly more Stephen Fry-sounding English accent flow from his mouth.

Greg tightened his grip on his flashlight and forced his eyes back down onto the ground once more. Those boys looked no older than twenty, and while he was quickly reaching his late thirties…

He shook his head. Late thirties or not, he could still make everyone in the lab laugh with his quick wit and humor. He could still pass for a twenty year old, easy. Just throw on that zebra jacket, and those aviators are cool no matter what century you wear them in…

One of the boys said something and Morgan giggled, her white teeth shining out amongst her tanned skin. Greg debated on whether or not he should explain to those boys that they were supposed to let the crime scene investigators do their jobs and leave them alone. One of them noticed that he was looking over at their little group and pointed him out to Morgan, who turned and waved Greg over with a smile.

Greg shut off his flashlight and slowly walked over, attempting to mask his annoyance with a look of curiosity. It seemed to work as Morgan quickly introduced him to the two English boys when he approached.

"Hey, Greg, this is Alex," she pointed to the boy with the puff, "and Charlie," and then to the boy with the oddly-colored jeans.

"This is my friend, Greg Sanders. We work at the crime lab."

"Pleasure to meet you, mate." The boy with the puff- Alex, Greg reminded himself- stuck out his hand and flashed a cocky grin. Charlie gave a small wave accompanied by a minute smile.

Greg clasped his hand in a quick handshake. "Nice to meet you-"

"Oh, isn't it! These guys are just as well-mannered as Nick, what with the way he calls every new woman he meets 'Ma'am.'"

Alex winked at her. "We Brits are very well-mannered, love." Greg did his best to not clench his fists as Morgan giggled once again.

"Nice to meet you," Greg repeated with a slight edge to his voice. "Now if you'll excuse us, Morgan and I have got some work-"

"Oh Greg, don't be such a killjoy!" Morgan leaned over and pretended to whisper conspiratorially to the boys with one hand shielding her mouth. "Did you know, Greg used to be quite the funny guy back when he was a lab tech. Or so I've heard. He's been so serious lately." She pulled back and giggled hysterically, as if what she'd just said was the joke of the century.

Greg sighed. "I'm not a killjoy, I just-"

Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's talk with the living for a while, shall we Greg? The dead can wait."