Author's note: Thanks for reading! This chapter features lyrics from Matthew Good Band's "Haven't Slept in Years." While obviously not required, getting a copy of this song is advisable, even if you don't end up reading this entry. The song alone is amazing. Thanks again, Lauren.

After searching through Chisato's bookshelves for any English novel with less than five hundred pages, Greg settled on a Japanese comic book and curled up with Montesquieu on the sofa facing Chisato.

Despite having no one for company for an entire night (where he slept a few hours, albeit said hours were fitful) Greg was not bored. He loved watching Chisato sleep, how her eyelids fluttered now and then, how she would suddenly let out a great sigh as if she worried even in dreaming. She appeared so vulnerable there, but Greg didn't feel right moving her to the small, main floor bedroom. He didn't want to risk waking her knowing she'd slept so little.

He leafed through the comic book; disturbed that Montesquieu's purr felt so pleasant against his leg, when he happened upon a photo booth picture. It was undoubtedly Chisato – but not the shy girl he'd been getting to know. She and the other Japanese friend in the photo stared at Greg with a certain affluence he'd had yet to see. Chisato's friend bit her lip ring playfully, but Chisato's gaze was haunting. He couldn't look away from the two intense grey eyes in the photo.

A yawn tore him away from the angry Chisato of the past to the fatigued one of the present. He stowed the photo in the comic and slid it under the coffee table.

Greg barely had time to say "Good Morning" when a throw pillow sailed in his direction. "Why did you let me do that?" Chisato sulked, sticking out her lip.

"Do what?" Greg retorted, mimicking her pout.

"Sleep!" She replied plaintively.

Greg rolled his eyes. "I am disgusted with myself, Chis. Next time, I assure, I will bring my taser and keep you awake by force."

"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Saunders," Chisato smiled. "Did you sleep?"

Greg noted the worry in her and lied. "Yeah, I passed out a little after you did."

"Good," Chisato stretched, listening to the satisfying crack of her joints, and headed toward the kitchen. "Want breakfast?"

The pair cooked up bacon, eggs, and toast and lounged around the kitchen area rather than sitting in one spot. Greg was eating at the breakfast bar island while Chisato swung her legs on top of the counter when she asked, "So you do you think is sexiest at work?" Greg nearly spit up his coffee, but kept his cool.

"You mean, besides us?"

"Well naturally," Chisato took a bite from her toast and tomato sandwich, and said, through a mouthful of food, "We're gorgeous."

"Hmm…." Greg pretended to think. "You first."

Chisato let out a long sigh and lay back on the counter. "It's obvious, my dear," she said, "Warrick Brown."

"Really?" Greg's cheeks burned.

"Yes sir! Those eyes of his are enchanting."

Greg laughed. "And the ladies? Who's your first pick?"

"Catherine, no doubt," Chisato said unfazingly.

"I can't believe you answered that," Greg suppressed the minute fantasies brewing up inside his head.

"Whatever, I'm comfortable with myself enough to admit that Catherine's a total MILF."

Greg laughed again. "That's cool," He said, holding up his hands, "Any videotaped goings-on between the two of you is totally fine with me."

"Pig," Chisato snorted, rolling her eyes. "Your turn."

Greg hesitated. It wasn't the pressure of admitting he liked Chisato – she'd luckily lifted that. Greg felt guilty he'd have to say someone he'd had feelings for not too long ago.

"Sara, I guess," Greg shrugged.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Pick a man!" Chisato replied deviously.

"No way," Greg shook a fork at her.

"You suck," she sulked.

"You know, I never thought I'd hear you say 'You suck'."

"I get it from you."

Greg chuckled. "Do I get to ask a question?"

"Sure, but you answer it first."

"Okay," Greg began, "When did you lose your virginity? I was 22."

"Twenty-two?" Chisato asked dubiously. "Really?"

"Yes, really. And you?"

Chisato went silent. Greg leaned forward. "You're not a virgin, are you?"

Chisato snickered hollowedly. "Please."

"Okay, so how old were you?"

"If you pick a man, I'll tell you," she looked at Greg sideways, egging him on.

Greg sighed. He'd have given up any other time, but wanted to see how far he could push it.

"Nick," he finally said, and Chisato clasped her hands together. "Are you happy now?"

"Ecstatic," she grinned.

Greg gave her an obvious look. "The jig is up, Chis. How old were you?" Her smile faded. She pulled her knees up to her chin and said something in an inaudible.

"Beg pardon?" Again, Chisato responded very quietly. Greg frowned. "Look, Chis, I don't want to force it out of –"

"I was thirteen, okay?" She interrupted. Greg's eyes widened in surprise.

"Wow."

"I'm not particularly proud of it, either." She mumbled. "And I've never told anyone that." Chisato did not look at Greg but stared blankly at the sink. Suddenly, she covered her face with her hands and let out a loud sob.

Greg leapt from his seat and stood next to her, his hand precariously on her shoulder. "Hey hey now," he soothed, "I'm so sorry, Chis."

"It isn't your fault," she sniffed, "You must think I'm some…" Chisato trailed off and more tears ran down her face.

Greg cupped Chisato's cheek in his hand and turned her to face him. "Never," he said softly, thumbing the tears from her cheeks. Chisato wordlessly wrapped her arms around Greg's neck and he held her for a while.

Chisato pulled back and smiled. "Greg," she said, kissing him on the nose, "I'm really glad you came."

"Me too," he grinned, his cheeks growing rosy. "Let's watch some Tarantino, huh?"

"What now?" Chisato asked, as the credits of Kill Bill Vol. 2 ran across the screen. Greg took his arm from the back of the couch and tented his fingers.

"We could go out," he shrugged, raising her eyebrows at Chisato.

"Like where? I'm kind of movie-d out," She absentmindedly played with the hair at the nape of Greg's neck. Greg swallowed hard.

"We could go to a club."

"A club? You don't strike me as the type," Chisato smirked.

"I know this rock club not too far from here – they book good bands."

Chisato smiled. "It's settled then. I'll get my purse."

"Do you want a drink?" Greg offered, helping Chisato take her seat at the bar.

"I'd love one – a martini, no olive, please."

"Make it two," Greg winked at the bartender. They sipped their drinks and made casual conversation until Chisato shielded her face and muttered, "Oh shit."

"What?" Greg whispered.

"I know the band, those guys over there."

"What did they do to you?"

"Nothing."

"Chisato! Hiding from me?" A Chinese twentysomething with emo glasses and a Beatle-cut took the stool on the opposite side of Chisato.

"Hey Chase," she replied, "You guys are playing tonight, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, we're doing audience requests, got any?"

"Know any Manson?" Greg offered coyly.

"Hey Chis," Chase said, after giving a friendly smile to Greg. "You should sing a set with us."

Chisato said "no" at the same time as Greg's excited "Yes!"

"Oh, c'mon," Chase goaded.

"Can she sing?" Greg asked.

"No, I can't, and I won't," Chisato pouted, crossing her arms defensively.

"You can so," Chase persisted, poking her arm.

"Yeah, can so," Greg repeated, prodding her other shoulder.

"What the hell are you guys, like, five?" Chisato growled playfully and downed the rest of her drink. "I hate you both." She marched up to the stage and climbed on. Chase scrambled after her.

Chase took up his guitar and spoke into the microphone, "Hey, how's everyone doing tonight?" A murmur of acknowledgement drifted through the bar. Chase grinned. "I am delighted to announce that we, the Cellars, are joined by one of the coolest chicks in Nevada. Come here, Chis."

Chisato sidled next to Chase and he put his arm around her. Greg felt a tinge of jealousy, but it evaporated when he saw the terror on Chisato's face. Her eyes were wide, frantically darting from patron to patron.

"What are we playing, Chis?" She shivered.

"Um…" Chisato hesitated. "Some Matthew Good Band?"

"Is that a question"" Chase smirked, noting her panic. "We'll start off with Pony Boy and work up from there." Chase pulled his mouth away from the mike and whispered, "Just start when you're ready." Chisato nodded.

The band played through the song, Chisato providing harmonies throughout the chorus. Though it was quiet, Greg was surprised at the quality or her voice, its clarity and sweetness. He considered phoning Nick and Warrick, but decided he wanted this part of Chisato all to himself.

A few more songs and Chisato spoke directly into the microphone.

"Thanks, Chase," she smiled, winking at the crowd, "For helping me get over that bout of nervousness. The next song we'll be playing is Haven't Slept in Years, by Matt Good!"

Chase strummed the first few chords of the song and Chisato took control of the stage for the first time that night, her voice singing out:

Make me your animal
Make me your freak
And I will pack them in
It's understandable
After all you're only human
All this time its been killing me
All this time its been
Caving in my head
Killing me
Alive Alive Alive
You're dead
Haven't slept in years
Haven't talked to anybody else
Haven't slept in years
Haven't talked to anybody else
Anybody else
Make me your cannibal
Make me your product and
I will make you rich
Well it's still fashionable
Isn't it, Isn't it
Isn't it?
And all this time it's been killing you
All this time it's been
Caving in your head
Killing you
Alive Alive Alive
You're dead

While Chisato sang the second chorus, she plucked the chopstick from the knot at the back of her head, and her dark brown curls cascaded down her back. Greg clenched his knees together and bit his lip.

As Chisato bowed and left the stage, Greg's eyes never left her. He pulled her into a tight hug, ecstatic for the chance to bury his fingers in her thick hair.