a/n: My apologies for the delay, but this story is evolving, and so is my free time. I'll keep writing—I was this close to deleting this story, but I'll keep it up unless something really bugs me about it. Enjoy—

Distractions

Nick made sure he wore long sleeves to work the next shift. The ropes Paige used left rough marks around his wrists, and the last thing he wanted was his colleagues seeing that—especially since they might attribute it to his 'social life.'

Focusing on cases became nearly impossible. All Nick wanted to do was figure out this mystery of Paige. As Grissom started rehashing evidence with the others, Nick's mind started drifting.

She said 'we.' And that she did go to prison.

"That was the whole point," she'd said.

What the hell does that mean?

He shook his head clear. Don't focus on that yet. How did she pull it off if it was staged? He recalled what she'd said, but it seemed too far-fetched to him. She would have been seen, or whoever 'we' was would have been seen.

Unless the whole building . . . No.

What about the company? Phoenix Telecomm . . . maybe they're involved.

"Nick."

He snapped his head back to the group. Grissom, Catherine, Warrick and Sara were all staring at him.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. "What did you say?" Sara rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"You all right, Nicky?" Grissom asked. He had that face on, the scolding question look. It was the closest Gil came to showing that resembled concern.

Nick sat up straighter in his chair and nodded a little too much. Luckily, he managed to avoid other inquiries for the moment.

He stole some time during the shift and started researching Phoenix Telecomm. He leaned towards the computer screen, a little hunched over but intrigued.

According to its website, Phoenix Telecomm had been around for ten years already. It was a relatively small company, but had business relations that spanned across the country. The various reports to the investors showed the turnover rate in the company was relatively low, although there was a spike in the last year. That made Nick curious.

Nick put in a call to the company, requesting information about those who had left the company. Whoever he spoke with was young and helpful, and faxed him a list. Nick chewed on his lip as he studied it.

The company hired four new employees within six months of Christian Patterson's death. Astonishingly, those same four employees left in various ways within a month of Patterson's death.

The four employees included Patterson himself, Paige Landry, a custodian, and an office manager. The last two merely quit, but that didn't lessen the effect.

Nick smacked his head with the palm of his hand as the realization of his stupidity hit him.

They were in on it.

Even Patterson?

Well, they were all connected at least. The people he'd talked with, who had 'helped' with his investigation, had other agendas.

Which makes Paige's story less wild.

But why? Who do they work for? Phoenix Telecomm didn't seem like the executors of Paige's acts.

"What are you working on?" came a voice behind him. Nick jumped in his seat as he swung his head around to see who it was. Grissom raised an eyebrow at that.

Nick opened his mouth to answer, but failed to put together anything remotely intelligible. Grissom glanced at what Nick was studying.

"Phoenix Telecomm," he read aloud. "Paige Landry?" His voice contained that reserved skepticism, the kind he used when he was seconds away from lecturing you.

"Yeah," Nick admitted slowly. "I . . . something came up, and I wanted to look into it further." He subconsciously pulled at the edges of his sleeves.

Grissom nodded. "What came up?"

Crap. Nick didn't want to tell Grissom, but he didn't want to lie either. Plus, Paige had told him to leave it all alone.

Of course, he hadn't listened to that either.

"Nick?" Gil hadn't let up his persistent stare at the young CSI. Nick sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Suddenly Grissom reached out and grabbed Nick's wrist. Nick looked at him, surprised, but Gil wasn't looking back. He was studying the marks on his wrist. His eyes flickered with something Nick couldn't identify. Nick cautiously tried to twist his wrist free. He winced at the grip Grissom had on him, and at the pain the friction caused.

"Gris," Nick said, still twisting his wrist away. "It's nothing." Grissom finally released the wrist, but his eyes bored into Nick, who conveniently ignored them.

"Do I need to ask what caused that?" Grissom said, pointing at his wrist while eyeing the other which he hadn't inspected. Nick shook his head vigorously.

"No." He gathered the printouts he'd been reading and headed for the door. "I should check with Warrick on that B&E." He cleared his throat nervously and made it out without another question from Grissom.

But he didn't see Grissom stare after him.

Nor did he see Sara enter the room soon after he left.

"What?" she asked, seeing Grissom's perplexed expression. He raised a hand, pointing after Nick.

Sara saw her friend's retreating form. "Oh, is he still acting weird?" she asked. Grissom snapped his attention to her.

"Still?" he questioned.

"Yeah. He jumped out of the car yesterday after that hotel scene," she said. "He didn't give a reason."

Grissom frowned as he thought.

"Do you ever think that if we were investigating each other, we'd be astounded by what we discovered?" he said. He didn't wait for a reply, but left the room for his office.

He hated to admit it, but his work was suffering. Nick didn't focus on the cases like he normally did. Everything was automatic, but without thought behind it. Warrick noticed it, but compensated accordingly.

For that, Nick was grateful. He was also grateful when the shift ended.

He sipped on a cup of coffee as he sat at his counter at home. In front of him was what he'd discovered about the former employees of Phoenix Telecomm.

"So who do you all work for?" he said aloud, his eyes scanning the papers.

"I thought I told you to stop."

Nick jerked at the voice behind him, and knocked over his coffee in the process. He half moved to stop the spill, and half whirled around to face the intruder.

Paige grinned at his reaction.

"Would you please stop doing that?" he said, finally deciding on the coffee cleanup. It also gave him some distance from her, just in case. "You don't have another one of those needles, do you?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"Good," Nick said. He chucked a coffee-stained towel at the sink and turned back to Paige. She looked less intimidating this time—jeans, t-shirt and a jacket. Her hands were tucked in her pockets as she studied him.

"Why are you still investigating?" she asked him. Nick raised an eyebrow at that.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Did you expect me not to?" she countered. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Did you expect me to stop after coming here, drugging me and tying me up?"

She fell silent for a moment, and Nick seized the victory.

"You get out of jail, give me a long and confusing explanation, and then tell me to drop the whole thing," Nick said. "I just can't accept that."

Paige started pacing, her eyes on the floor. "What would you accept?"

"How 'bout explaining why you, Patterson and two others were all planted at Phoenix Telecomm?" Nick blurted out. "Or why you were 'sent' to prison? Or where Patterson was actually killed?"

She held up her hands in mock surrender, if nothing else than to keep him from going on. She took a step towards him, and Nick found himself stepping back from the advance. She raised an eyebrow at that, but Nick didn't care. She's drop-kicked me before. That tugged at his pride, but self-preservation took priority.

"I think I can explain it enough by telling you, in general terms, who I work for," Paige said, taking a step back from Nick to give him space. She folded her arms in front of her and looked directly in his eyes. "I work for a private group that gets contracted to do . . . whatever. Some of our clients have a lot of clout in matters of state."

Nick blinked.

"Is that the most round-about way of saying you work for the government?" he asked.

She smiled, but it faded quickly. "Occasionally, though don't spread it around."

"So are you saying you were sent to prison for a reason? A job?" Nick asked. He was having a hard time swallowing this, but he was trying to keep an open mind. A very open mind.

"I'll back up a bit," she said. Paige sat at the counter, and Nick almost moved to sit next to her but thought better of it.

"We've been in Vegas for awhile, waiting for info and an opportunity. The opportunity took longer, but when Christian was killed, that was our cue," she said. "And I did everything I could to make sure you saw me as guilty."

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, but he nodded for her to continue.

"I had to be put in prison convincingly. I couldn't just be dropped in, not for our objective," Paige said. Her voice started to get cooler. "With a real murder behind me, I was able to do what I needed to quickly."

"You said you just got out of prison a few weeks ago," Nick pointed out.

"It wasn't a spring picnic, but at least I finished the job and got out," she said. Something about that statement made Nick's skin prickle with tension.

"What did you need to do there?" he asked. She simply stoned her face and said:

"For your own safety and for my client's protection, I can't tell you," she said firmly. Nick rolled his eyes. Suddenly she was out of her seat and circling the counter. She reached for his cabinets and helped herself to a glass of water. Nick watched as she slowly drank the liquid, the whole time her own eyes staring back at him.

The glass was set down, and she closed the distance between them. Nick gulped as he watched her.

"You don't believe me," she stated. Nick considered his words carefully.

"I want to understand," he said. He believed her, to an extent. He didn't know how much he bought the cloak and dagger routine she insisted on, but he reminded himself he knew so little about her anyway.

Paige was inches from him, and it reminded Nick of the initial investigation. She'd been so coy and seductive then. He doubted if that had changed.

She leaned towards him, and brushed her lips over his. Nick didn't move a muscle but continued to stare at her.

Paige noticed his tension, and after that initial taste of his lips, pulled back. They stared at each other until Nick broke the silence.

"You said you've been in Vegas for awhile," he said. He was well aware that he'd just acted like nothing happened. "If your job is over, why are you still here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I was still here because of you?" she said. Nick swallowed, but nodded.

"Of everything you've told me, that's the easiest to believe," he said. "But I'm not sold on it." Paige took a step back. She seemed nearly offended at what he said, so Nick plowed ahead with an explanation. "I mean, you were coming on strong before. Your whole seductive routine was a way for you to confuse me when I was investigating you. So why—"

"—should you believe me now?" Paige filled in. "It wasn't all an act all those months ago." As if to prove it, she closed the distance between them again and kissed him hard. Her hands went to his face, caressing his skin and moving to intertwine her fingers in his hair. Nick felt a rush of blood and excitement run through him, and he fought between air and just letting her kiss him.

She teased his lips, nipped at them and pulled on them with her teeth. Nick let out a gasp and started to kiss her back.

What the hell are you doing? His mind tried being rational—there were still too many questions, too many holes. But Nick's body was rapidly giving into her charms. Her hands moved from his hair and slowly slid down to his chest.

A knock at the front door brought Nick back to reality. Paige persisted in the makeout, but Nick pushed her away.

"Who is it?" he yelled at the front door, his pulse still racing. Paige reached for him, her hands grasping his hips and pulling him back. He pushed her hands away and peaked through the eyehole at the door.

Crap. It was Warrick, and he heard the muffled shout through the door that said as much.

He glanced back at Paige, who seemed as composed as ever, which surprised Nick considering how involved she was two seconds earlier. She simply nodded and moved back to the bedrooms, hiding out of view.

Nick opened the front door, and stepped aside. His tall friend entered, glancing around as if he knew. The air in the room was thick and Nick wondered if his appearance was as disheveled as he felt.

Warrick shot him a look.

"What's going on, man?" he said. Nick quickly shook his head.

"Nothing. I was just . . . sleeping."

The look persisted. "Really," Warrick said dryly. His eyes darted around the room again. "Well, I just wanted to check on you. See if you're okay."

That confused Nick. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, frowning. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, Grissom was a little worried," Warrick said. Nick felt his face flush. He told him about my wrists. "That, and you seemed a bit off."

Nick shrugged and plastered a fake smile on his lips. "I'm okay, really." A muffled noise came from the bedroom, as if something fell back there. Nick tried not to react. "Uh, I'm really tired though, Warrick, so—"

The noise didn't go unnoticed by Warrick but he slowly nodded and stepped towards the door.

"Right," he said. "I'll see you tonight."

As soon as Warrick left, Nick sighed in relief. He turned to face the hallway to his bedroom, and stomped back there, ready to chew her out for—

But she wasn't there, or in any of the rooms. Instead, Nick found a note lying on his pillow.

Sweet dreams. I'll see you later.

He rolled his eyes and sighed loudly in frustration.

This woman will be the death of me, he thought before flopping down on his bed. He fell asleep quickly.