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aussirayne favors us with Warrick's adventures in Locard-land.

Warrick opened the envelope and studied the items listed on the paper before turning to leave.

"I'll enjoy those days off."

He smiled at the group and dialed a number on his cell phone as he left the break room.

"Hey, it's…"

He stared down at the phone emitting the annoying dial tone and snapped it closed. He made his way to his car mumbling to himself.

Warrick drove straight to Treasure Island and pulled up the valet. He nodded at the attendant opening his door.

"Rick, what's up?"

"Nothin' much, man. Becca around?"

"Sure, she's working the high end tables. She's red tonight."

Warrick grinned and thanked the valet. He wound his way through the casino to a quiet room roped off from the rest of the noisy machines and low dollar tables. He saw her leaning over the table, clearly showing off her assets to the man who could only be described as a boring businessman in a boring gray suit. She took the drink order then headed straight in Warrick's direction, brow furrowing as soon as she saw him.

"No."

Warrick held his hands up to stop her.

"Becca?"

"Seriously, Warrick. You want to act like nothing happened?"

"Come on. I need a favor."

"Too bad. You haven't called me since that night. I mean, we were friends before then. We sleep together once, and you just disappear."

"That probably had something to do with your husband. You know, the one you didn't tell me about?"

"Fine. Just tell me what you need so I can get back to my job."

"An eye patch."

"A what?"

"An eye patch. Don't ask, just tell me you can help me."

"Wow, and I just figured you wanted to get laid."

"Funny."

"Where exactly do you want me to get an eye patch from?"

"You used to work the Siren show. You know you can get one."

"You want me to steal a costume?"

"No, I just need the eye patch. I'll bring it back."

"Okay. Say I do this for you. What's in it for me?"

"What do you want?"

"There's a conference in town this weekend. I'm helping with the planning. I need the experience to get out of this waitressing gig. We're short a couple of people."

"What would I need to do?"

"Just be here Saturday at noon."

"Not without details."

"You'd be doing some guest relations. You know, handing out coupons for shows and food."

"Can't you pay someone to do that?"

"Sure, but if you do it then I'm under budget, and I look good to my boss."

"Fine, I'll be here. Now, can you go get the eye patch?"

"Let me go put this order in, and I'll get it for you."

Warrick watched her leave. He looked at his watch and looked around. Of course his luck put him smack in the face of temptation just to win a contest. Three days off sounded really good, but right now he could only think about spending them sitting next to the boring businessman betting two hundred a hand.

Warrick stood there patiently waiting for nearly twenty minutes before he saw the bright red wig moving through the tables.

"You get it?"

"Did you doubt me?"

"Never."

Warrick's green eyes twinkled just a bit, betraying his stern demeanor, but his eyes usually got him whatever he wanted. He took the small black eye patch from her hand.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Here."

Becca handed him a black duffel bag with T.I. in white letters across one side.

"What's this?"

"Your costume."

"For what?"

"This weekend. The eye patch goes with it."

"No way."

"A deal's a deal. You said yes."

"You didn't tell me there was a costume involved."

"You didn't ask."

Warrick unzipped the bag and saw a horrible hat and what he could only assume were pants.

"A pirate? I have to dress up like a fucking pirate?"

Becca laughed and covered her mouth.

"You agreed."

"This is what I get for asking a woman for help."

"You're lucky I'm helping you."

"Yeah, thanks."

He forced a smile, because he really did want the time off, and, really, dressing like a pirate couldn't be that bad. It worked for Johnny Depp.

Warrick thanked Becca again and headed out to the valet. He tipped the attendant and drove off. He scrolled through his numbers and dialed.

"Joey, tell me you're working the arena tonight."

"I am, but there's a private practice session. We're closed, Rick."

"I need a favor then."

"What?"

"I need a used towel from the locker room."

"Why?"

"Just get one for me?"

"I can't. The locker room is off limits. Something about retiling the showers. I can get you a clean one from the janitor's closet."

"No, it has to be a used one. I know it sounds crazy, but I need it to win a bet."

"The only used towels are on the benches with the teams' bags."

"Can you get one of those?"

"You want me to piss off some huge football player by stealing his towel? Not gonna happen, my friend. I'm five foot seven and weigh less than a hundred and thirty pounds. I'm not stupid."

"Joey, just get a clean towel from the closet and switch it out."

"No, man, I can't."

"Joey, a guy from Jersey can't really be this much of a pussy. Really?"

"What's in it for me?"

"That's everybody's favorite line tonight, huh?"

"I scratch your back, you scratch mine."

"Fine. What do you want?"

"See, there's this girl."

"No, no girls. I'm not some dating guru."

"Fine, no towel then."

Warrick heard a click followed by a dial tone before he hit redial.

"Fine, Joey, what's her name?"

"Becca."

"No, not the one from T.I."

Warrick glared at the laughter coming through the phone.

"No, I just wanted to see what you'd say. She's pissed at you, isn't she?"

"Joey, shut up about her and tell me about this girl you want."

"Angie, she works at the Stratosphere. She's in Bite."

"A vampire? You want a vampire? I will not feed some kinky fetish of yours."

"Rick, how badly do you need that towel?"

"Fine. Tell me more."

"I need a date. You have to know someone there."

"I'll see what I can do. Get that towel and meet me out front in ten minutes."

"Alright."

Warrick closed his phone and pulled into the nearest parking lot. He scrolled through his phone and stopped on a name. Letting out a loud sigh, he hit send.

"Hello?"

"Lacy, it's Rick."

"Hey you. I haven't heard from you in months."

"I need a favor. I swear, I'll have to sell my soul before the night's over."

"What do you need, sweetie?"

"A friend, he's a good guy, not bad looking, not rich, but not suffering. He has a thing for Angie. Know her?"

"Sure, she's great."

"He wants a date with her."

"She's also a lesbian. Hardcore."

"That's a problem. I'll call you back later."

"Bye, Rick."

Warrick flipped through his call list and called Joey.

"Joey, she's not into guys."

"You're just trying to get out of this."

"No, I'm serious. She's a lesbian."

"What else have you got to trade for the towel?"

"I can get you tickets to a show this weekend."

"Rick, I work in Vegas, I can get tickets to a show myself. I need something better."

"How about tickets to the big fight Saturday night?"

"How about the front row tickets to that fight? I know you have a pair. I talked to Margie at Caesar's last night."

Warrick gritted his teeth and wondered just how much he needed a vacation.

"Something else?"

"No, the tickets will do just fine."

"Fine, meet me out front with the towel."

"Sure thing."

Warrick drove to the arena and saw Joey waiting out front. He put the car in park and stepped out.

"Just one more thing, Rick. I need a date for the fight."

"A date?"

"Yeah, you know all the hot girls in Vegas. You smile, and they go weak in the knees. Call one up and get me a date."

"I can't just make someone go out with you."

"You must know someone."

Warrick exhaled loudly.

"Fine. Stay right there."

He climbed back in the car and slammed the door. Flipping through his cell phone, he landed on a number he hadn't dialed in a long time.

"Yes?"

"Valerie, it's Warrick. I need a favor. God, I'm starting to hate that word."

"What is it?"

"I need a date for a friend Saturday night. Front row seats to the fight. He wants a pretty girl on his arm."

"Sure. Tell him to pick up Amanda at seven. I'll call you with her address tomorrow."

"Thanks, Val. I owe you."

"Yeah, you do. For you, two hundred, but just dinner and the fight then he takes her straight home."

"Got it."

Warrick hung up and got out of the car.

"Alright, pick up Amanda at seven. Dinner and the fight, then you take her home. No funny business or she'll hurt you."

"Thanks, Rick. Your towel."

Joey handed Warrick a slightly damp towel that reeked of a high school locker room.

"Thanks."

Warrick threw the towel into the passenger's seat and drove off toward the station.

He was pulling into the parking deck when he heard a loud pop followed by a thud every few seconds. He eased his car into his spot and got out to look. Seeing the flat tire, he spewed a few choice words about timing and "fucking with it later" before grabbing the towel and the eye patch and heading inside.

Warrick entered the break room and threw his hunt items down on the table. He sat in an empty chair and waited for Grissom to announce the winner.

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