The next night, Jilaine let herself in her apartment to find an already sleeping Greg on the couch.  Before leaving work that morning, she had given him a key to her apartment.  He was going to be there anyway, so he might as well not have to wait for her to let him in.  She kicked her shoes off, padded into the kitchen and warmed up some leftover chicken parmigiana, and sat in the recliner across from the couch to eat. 

            "Something smells good," Greg said, his voice muffled through the pillow.

            "Your chicken," she answered softly.

            "I meant you.  I can smell that vanilla stuff you wear."  He smiled as he rolled over onto his back and added, "Actually, I can smell it at work, too.  If you come in the lab the scent lingers for awhile."  She grinned crookedly and took another bite of chicken.

            "Want some dinner?"

            "No, I'm just going to crash.  I think I might go home, actually."

            "Why?"

            "Because I'm paying rent, so I might as well sleep there every once in awhile," he grinned.  "I figured you need your personal space."

            "No, not really."  He laughed softly and rubbed his eyes, then scratched at his hair. 

            "Want to go with me?"

            "After I eat," she nodded.  He stood and wandered into the kitchen, locating a pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid and pouring himself a glass. 

            "Is that good reheated?" he asked and pointed at her plate.

            "Mmhmm," she mumbled with a mouthful.  He grinned and ambled tiredly over her way, getting down on his knees in front of her.  "Whatcha doing?"

            "Getting a kiss from my favorite girlfriend."

            "As opposed to your other girlfriends that aren't your favorites?"

            "Yep."  He took her lips in a kiss and she laughed softly against him.

            "You're a terrible liar."

            "I know."  After she finished eating and changed clothes, they hopped in his Tahoe and he drove to his apartment.  "Welcome to my humble abode," he grinned as he opened the door.  "I'll give you the Tour de France."

            "Greg, that's a bike race."

            "I know," he defended with a pout.  "It just sounded cooler than me saying, 'I'll take you around my apartment and show you where everything's at.'"  She grinned and followed him around as he led her through.

            "I like the whole…blue…thing you have going."  He shook his head calmly and pointed to a corner of his bedroom.

            "See?"  She glanced up and saw a mural of the ocean in the space between his dresser and closet door.

            "Oh wow, that's incredible.  Did you do that?"

            "Pssh, no.  My sister did.  I can't even draw stick people."

            "That's odd.  You seem artistic," she said, eyeing him through slitted eyes.

            "Don't look at me like that!" he laughed.  "I honestly can't draw."

            "No, I believe you."  She grinned at him with a twinkle in her eyes and he eyed her.

            "I don't believe that you believe me."  She stared at him silently before he broke a smile.  "We are the weirdest couple to ever exist."

            "Nah, I don't think so.  I don't get Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie."  He snort laughed and picked her up, wrapping his arms around her waist.

            "You're the cutest thing ever, Jilaine."

            "I know," she sighed.  He cracked up and set her on his bed.

            "I think you need some sleep."

            "I really don't think so."

            "I do."

            "I don't."  He growled playfully and pounced on her, pushing her back onto the bed.

            "Well you at least need some rest."

            "You being all growly like that is not going to make me tired," she said and shook her head.  "The last thing I think of when you do that is sleeping."  He raised his eyebrow for a split second, then growled at her again.  "I'm warning you, it's going to be a long night," she said in a singsong voice.

            "I have no problem with that," he growled.  "I don't work until four tomorrow."  She let out a giggle and as he leaned in to kiss her, his stomach roared at him.  "That is just embarrassing," he grinned sheepishly.

            "Go eat, Greg."

            "Want anything?"

            "I just ate a pound of chicken.  Thanks though."  While he heated up leftover Taco Bell, she freshened up and made herself comfortable on his couch.  "Hey, I forgot to tell you, I got you that day off next Saturday."

            "What?" he asked with a mouthful of soft taco.

            "I asked Grissom," she shrugged.  "He said that since you hadn't had a day off in so long, it was absolutely fine for you to take Saturday off to go to the zoo with me."

            "The zoo?" he asked with a laugh.

            "Yep.  We're studying the mating rituals of warm-blooded animals." 

            "You actually told him that?"

            "I'm not that stupid, Greg.  But I did tell him we were going to the zoo."

            "Are we actually going to the zoo?"

            "It wasn't in the plans," she grinned.  "Unless you're into studying the mating rituals of a random animal in comparison to those of humans."

            "No, no, I don't need to compare anything," he smirked.  "I know how everything works."

            "That you do."