Chapter 12

Being a crime scene investigator meant that Greg knew all of the seedy parts of town – the areas where a dealer would hang out and make sales.

It was to the seediest neighborhood in Vegas that Greg headed now, hoping he could find Pearly White. He'd called Brass earlier, and gotten him to agree to help him with his plan.

He knew his note probably wouldn't fool Nick for long, so he had to move quickly. Plus, he didn't want to give Brass a chance to change his mind.

This late at night, in this part of town, he was by no means safe, but Greg figured that as long as he acted as though he belonged, he'd probably be fine. Probably.

He wore a pair of stained jeans, and a t-shirt he'd torn a few holes in, and he had left his usually spiked hair in disarray. Well hidden under his shirt was a wire. Adopting the wild eyed look he knew was always near the surface these days, Greg took on a stumbling gait and approached everyone he saw.

"Looking for Pearly White. You seen 'im?" he slurred at anyone who'd listen. Mostly he got strange looks. The hookers pushed him away, shaking their heads and laughing at him.

He was several blocks down from his original starting point when he was pulled into an alley.

"I hear you're looking for me?" the voice sank into Greg's brain, making him shudder. He had been pushed face first against the wall, and still couldn't see the guy, but he remembered that voice!

"Pearly White? That you?" Greg slurred, doing his best to keep up his act.

"Who wants to know?" the hands holding him pushed him roughly against the wall.

"Need a fix, man. Gotta have some," part of Greg's brain whispered seductively to him that he really did need that fix. He stomped on it viciously, firmly planting Nick's image in his mind.

"Ah, yeah. I remember you. The bar a couple weeks ago. Surprised you held out this long." Hands roughly groped Greg's pockets, pulling out the wad of cash Brass had lent him for the sting. "Let's see how much you got!" Thumbing through the money, Pearly said, "Here ya go."

Greg felt a package pressed into his hand a moment later.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your pathetic life," Greg said, as Brass's car pulled into the mouth of the alley, lights flashing.

Pearly White turned and ran.

Brass was getting out of the car, in an awkward run, but Greg had already been closer. Pouring every ounce of anger he had into his legs, Greg put on a burst of speed that allowed him to tackle the drug dealer.

Pearly White squirmed, trying to get free. When that proved impossible, he turned and tried to punch Greg in the face. Greg pulled aside, and was about to try to land a punch of his own, when Brass shoved his gun into Pearly's face.

"Pearly White, or whoever you are, you are under arrest for possession with intent to sell and assaulting an officer," Brass informed the man, as Greg pulled him to his feet for handcuffing.

"Assaulting an officer! I didn't assault no officer!"

"I'm a CSI with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, genius!" Greg informed the man. "You're fingerprints will match the prints found on the note and the syringe of heroin you left me after you abducted me and shot me full of that shit!"

Brass pushed Pearly White into the hands of a waiting officer, then turned to Greg. "I'd call Nick, if I were you. He called me a bit ago, wanting to know if I knew where you were. He sounded pretty pissed."

Running a hand over his face, Greg sighed, "Thanks, Brass. See you officially in a few weeks. That's if I survive Nicky's wrath."

Brass gave Greg an odd look before turning to leave.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Greg turned it on, then dialed Nick's number.

"Greg, where the hell are you!" Nick's voice was high with anger and fear, his Texan accent deeper than usual.

"Brass helped me get him, Nicky. It's over," Greg winced, ready for Nick's tirade.

"Oh, Greg! Damn it!" Nick's voice had gotten quieter, something Greg hadn't expected. Nick's voice usually got louder, especially the angrier he got. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just, come get me, please. I want to go home." Greg waited for Nick to tell him to go to hell, but it never came.

Instead, Nick said, "Where are you, Greggo?"

When Nick arrived, Greg was waiting quietly at the mouth of the alleyway where he'd helped Brass take down Pearly White – who it was later discovered was a man named Clinton Styles.

"I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again," Greg said, his head hanging, waiting for the lashing he was sure was coming. He knew he deserved it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nick asked, confused. He had pulled his truck into the alleyway, where Brass's car had been a short time before, and now stood in front of Greg. Taking Greg's chin in his hand, he forced the younger man to look at him.

"I- I lied to you. I used sex to get you to fall asleep so I could go against your wishes. I..." he trailed off, as Nick pulled him into a hug.

"Nothing you ever do, no matter how frustrating, or infuriating it might be at the time, would ever drive me away from you! I love you, damn it!" Nick said, then crushed his lips against Greg's. "Come on. Let's go home."

Sagging against Nick, Greg quietly said, "Oh, thank god!" Huskily he added, "I need my fix of you, before I start going through withdrawals."