A/N Apologies for the short chapter. I wanted to get something up before the end of the weekend. There will be more Nick and Vega later.

Chapter 5

Detective Vega stood serenely at the bank of elevators. Perhaps that was because he had just been summoned to the hotel, to assist the CSI in questioning the lecturers whose talks Simons had attended. Nick wasn't nearly as cool, his head still pounded as he stepped into the over-crowded elevator, narrowly avoiding stepping on the shoe of a man dressed in tweed, while simultaneously trying to avoid pressing into the ample bosom of the woman just behind him. If Mr. Cristanson's room hadn't been on the 24th floor, he would have suggested taking the stairs. A 20 minute wait for an elevator at the Luxor? And it had only been just twenty minutes because he got pushy at the end, and crowded in front of Conventioneers. Vega grinned as they stepped into the small conveyance. As Nick felt the woman behind him slowly move forward, he fervently wished he had taken the stairs. Twenty-four flights or no.

Room 2403 was halfway down the left hallway, just past the vending machines. From the looks of things, Nick had narrowly missed Housekeeping; the cart was parked outside 2401. God, he hoped that didn't mean Cristanson wasn't in his room, Nick didn't want to face the mad elevator rush again right away, even if the whole episode had put a smirk on Vega's face…or especially since it had put one there.

"Maxwell Cristanson," Nick read from the list supplied by the convention, "The lecture our Vic attended was entitled "The Alien Abduction of Human Beings." Nick couldn't help the snort as he tucked the paper back away in his jacket.

"Not a believer, Nick?"

The CSI just stared. First Grissom, then Sara, and now Vega? "Are you?"

Detective Vega stared seriously at the younger man for a moment, before grinning. "Nah. Not in Alien abductions, any way. Too strange. And implausible. Folks are just a bit off, or selling books. Or something." His grin widened, "Now, if you ask me about Bigfoot."

"I'm not!" Nick shook his head as he knocked on room 2403. "I'm not. I definitely don't want to know."

"I told you I don't want the room…." Christanson paused, "You're not the maid."

Very good, thought Nick. He must be psychic. Shaking his head, he reached for the ID on the chain around his neck, and held it out for the man to see. "No," he said, dryly. "We're not. I'm Nick Stokes, with the Crime Lab, this is Detective Vega. May we ask you a few questions?"

"Crime Lab?" Maxwell Christanson blinked as he looked from Nick to the cop. "They have a lab for Crimes?"

Ignoring Vega's snicker, Nick sighed, then explained. Maybe this guy had been living on Mars. "I'm a Criminalist. Forensic Scientist. I investigate crimes.

"I thought the police did that."

"I'm with the police, Sir." Vega certainly wasn't being much help. Nick shot him an irritated glance, then turned back to the Lecturer. "May we ask you some questions about a man who attended your speech on," he cleared his throat, "Alien abductions?"

Christanson shrugged and opened the door to a room that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in months, instead of just days. Nick didn't even want to guess what was causing the odor. Could pizza smell that bad after just two days? "Sure. I suppose."

Nick wrinkled his nose as he followed Vega into the room.