a/n: I'm having a bit of trouble getting the balance on this story, so I've been revising the next few chapters—hence, the delay. Thanks for reading!

Free

Six months later

Sara proudly dangled her tweezers in front of Nick's face. A bullet was firmly in the tweezers' grasp. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he said. "You found it first."

"Which means you . . ." she trailed off, waiting for him to fill in on what they agreed.

"I get the ALS," Nick said. He grimaced at the thought. The crime scene was a hotel room, and something about finding various stains in a hotel room always made the two CSIs' stomachs queasy.

He'd lost the race to find the bullet, and so, he grudgingly took hold of the ALS and started finding light spots all over the place. Meanwhile, Sara got to go pull the surveillance tapes from hotel security.

Nick put on his colored eyewear and turned on the machine. He heard Sara laugh as she left the room.

He groaned as he found the first biological stain. He bit his lip and started on the samples for the DNA lab. An hour later, he gladly turned off the ALS and left the room.

Sara met him in the lobby, waving a tape in her hand.

"Got it," she said. "We have two suspects, clearly entering and leaving around the time of death." Nick didn't smile or return an enthusiastic response. He glared at her, and headed out of the hotel. Behind him, he heard her chuckle.

She drove—typical, Nick thought. Lately she enjoyed tormenting him in the simplest of ways. It was all in good fun, but she was the only one having it. She pulled out on Las Vegas Boulevard. Nick sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window.

Tourists flooded the streets, milling about in and out of the casinos. Hotel after hotel passed by as they drove along the busy road. They came to a stop at one of the many traffic lights.

A woman walked by. Something about her was familiar. Nick frowned.

Brown hair. Tall, attractive . . . Nick sat up straight in his seat and turned to follow her with his eyes. She walked along the sidewalk, on his side of the street but in the opposite direction.

"What?" Sara asked, seeing Nick's movement.

It can't be. He reached for the door's handle.

"I'll meet you at the lab," Nick said, jumping out of the car.

"Nick!" he heard Sara yell after him, but he walked away quickly, after the woman. But her face. It was so familiar, so similar. She was ahead of him, walking down the street towards the Aladdin hotel. He quickened his pace, closing in on her.

Suddenly she turned into the entrance of a casino that boasted 25 cent roulette tables. Nick moved to duck in the casino as well, but a group of men fresh from happy hour blocked his way. They made no hurry to get out of his way, and Nick ended up quickly going around them.

But she was gone. The casino had too many people, and none of them stood out as her.

Paige Landry.

Did I just imagine her?

Nick clenched his jaw tight, and left the casino.

He called Vega as soon as he got to the lab.

"Hey, it's Stokes," Nick said. "Do you know whatever happened to Paige Landry, that woman who stabbed that guy in Henderson?"

"Uhhh," Vega stuttered. He was obviously caught off guard by the random inquiry. "As far as I know, she was sent to prison. Why?"

Nick wasn't sure he wanted to say he imagined seeing her, but he couldn't just let it go either. "Can you check up and see what her release status is?"

"Release?" Vega repeated skeptically. "Nick, she committed murder. She's not getting out for awhile."
"Humor me, Vega," Nick said, taking a deep breath before his temper flared. "Call me when you know."

The rest of his day was spent in motions—doing the work, but not paying attention to it. He went home as soon as the clock hit 7 a.m.

He wasn't tired. Well, he was, but his mind kept drifting back to Paige Landry. He hadn't thought of her in months. But now, the case and her involvement plagued him. He remembered the pieces that just didn't add up to anything.

Sure, every case had some clues or evidence that made no sense in the big picture. But those clues in the Christian Patterson case were huge. She could have easily gotten out of the charges.

Did her conscience kick in? Is that why she confessed? He remembered how she'd denied his theory in that last interrogation. How she'd stared him directly in the eye and told him he didn't understand her. How everything about her challenged what he did and thought.

He found himself shuddering. Paige had been so forward with him, so indiscreet in her advances. But it just didn't seem to be what she wanted to make of it.

Nick groaned loudly to his empty home. "Why am I still thinking about this?"

His cell phone rang, and Nick quickly picked it up when he saw it was Vega.

"Stokes."

"Nick," the detective said. "I just got a call back, and Paige Landry is nicely tucked away in the state women's penitentiary, for the next fifteen years."

Part of Nick was disappointed. He'd gotten worked up for nothing, and that bothered him, especially when it cost him sleep.

"Okay, thanks." He hung up. He stared at the rug in his living room and released a long breath. After a minute of wallowing in his own stupidity, he decided to get out.

He changed into some jogging pants and a t-shirt, grabbed his workout bag and drove to the gym. It was a pretty busy hour, and the weight machines were mostly taken. But Nick didn't need them today.

He made his way to the lockers and quickly changed into a swimsuit. The pool was pretty crowded as well, but Nick found an open lane. He jumped in and immediately began a lap.

The water was way too warm for his tastes, but he knew he'd appreciate it later. He pulled his weight along, stroke after stroke. The muscles in his arms started to burn slightly, and he enjoyed the pain.

He finished five laps of freestyle, and switched to a breast stroke, and then a back stroke. He breathed out quick breaths as he cut through the water. As soon as his hands touched the cement edge of the pool, he stopped.

It took him a few minutes to catch his breath. There was something about swimming that liberated him, and it was more than welcome. His whole body was starting to feel numb, which was his cue to quit for the day.

He got out of the pool, the water dripping off of him in little rivulets and beads. He snagged a towel and headed for the locker room.

The drive back home was substantially more relaxing than the one to the gym. Nick felt the tugs of a smile on his face as he made his way to the front door.

He dropped his gym bag on the floor and shut the door behind him. As he glanced around his home, he froze.

There, standing in the middle of his living room, was Paige Landry.