Dinner went well, even though it was breakfast time when they were done eating.  "You are an amazing cook," Jilaine sighed as she flopped onto the couch, spreading over the length of it tiredly.

            "Thanks," Greg said, eyeing her as she stretched.  "Don't even leave any room for me," he laughed as he sat on her stomach.

            "Greg, get up!" she whined in a strained voice.  "I just ate!"

            "Then scoot over!"

            "No!"  He stood, giving her the evil eye, and she slowly sat up in response to his stare.  He sat behind her and reached up to her shoulder.

            "You can lay back down."  She adjusted carefully, resting her head on his lap, and closed her eyes as he began to comb his fingers through her hair.  "What on earth made a woman like you agree to go out with me?" he asked softly.  Noting his tone, she pushed back her smartass answer of "I didn't know any better."

            "You seemed really sweet.  And you were obviously smart, since you worked in the lab."  She glanced up at him and smiled as she added, "And your eyes."

            "My eyes?  What about them?"

            "They have this glimmering quality, like there's a lot going on behind them.  Big puppy dog eyes."  She paused and added, "Besides, I walked in on you playing air guitar to Social Distortion.  I myself play the air bass, so I was thinking maybe we could start a band."

            "I play air drums too, you know," he said informatively.

            "Rock 'n roll," she grinned.  He twirled a piece of her hair around his finger and smiled.

            "What did you do before you came here?"

            "School.  University of Wisconsin."

            "Did you work?"

            "Yeah," she said with a laugh.  "I was a Hooters girl."

            "Are you serious?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.

            "Yep.  It was a great job, except for the rare occasion when a patron got a little too drunk.  Other than that, I loved the girls and loved the tips.  It's not very often that a waitress can make what I did."

            "How long did you work there?"

            "Three years.  What about you, did you work in school?"

            "No, I didn't have to.  I was one of the lucky ones."

            "Did you date a lot?" she asked curiously.

            "More than I do now, that's for sure.  It was a lot easier in college.  Everyone's schedule is more similar.  Not that it's hard to meet people in the middle of the night in Vegas, but they're generally people you really don't want to know…or tourists."  He twisted her hair into random designs as he talked.  "You probably dated a lot, too."

            "I did okay," she shrugged.  "A football cheerleader that works at Hooters certainly gets her opportunities."

            "Did you ever go to class?" Greg joked.

            "I had to.  Cheerleading didn't take me out of anything since we practiced so early and most of the games were on Saturdays, and I only worked in the evenings and on Sundays.  It all worked out."

            "How'd you have time to date?" he asked with a shake of his head.

            "Doesn't matter," she grinned.  "None of them were nearly as cute as you."  She paused and looked up at him, watching him as he watched her.  "Hey Greg?" she asked quietly.

            "Hmm?" he responded as he traced her jaw line with his fingertip.

            "Do you want to stay the night?"  He shifted his eyes over to hers, searching them to find the connotation of her words.  Almost knowing what he was looking for, she shook her head a little.  "I could use a cuddle buddy."  A smile slowly crossed his face and he nodded.

            "I think I know someone who could do that for you."

            "Warrick?" she asked hopefully, her eyes lighting up as a wicked grin crossed her face.

            "That's just mean," he laughed.  "But yeah, I'll stay."  Jilaine stood and took his hand, pulling him up as she headed for the bedroom.  "What do you sleep in?" he asked with a crooked grin as she pulled the bedroom door shut behind them.

            "My bed," she grinned.

            "I meant your clothes," he said and rolled his eyes.  "Or lack thereof."

            "Honestly, I usually sleep nude, but for you tonight, I'll make an exception."

            "Oh, thank you," he said sarcastically as he unbuckled his belt.  "Any rules for me?"

            "Not that I can think of."  He pulled off his jeans as she dug through her dresser for her favorite pajama set.  "I can't find anything in this place yet," she groaned as she opened another drawer.  Locating it, she slipped into the bathroom to quickly change.  When she reappeared, she was wearing a baby pink camisole and fitted boycut shorts.  Greg was sprawled out on top of her sheets in smiley face boxers.  "Those are impressive," she said with a laugh.

            "So are you," he said softly.  She blushed a little and he grinned.  "I feel like I'm in a terrible Cinemax porn with a sorority girl crawling into my bed."  She cracked up as she slipped under the covers.

            "Keep dreaming, Greg."

            "I don't have to."  He gently kissed her, varying the pressure at the appropriate times, and brushed his hand over the small segment of bare stomach she was revealing.  "Good night, Jilaine," he whispered into her ear.

            "Night, Greg," she softly replied and cuddled closer to him.  He watched her until he was absolutely sure she was asleep, then with a kiss to her temple, cozied under the covers and adjusted himself for a few hours of rest.