A/N: Glad you two liked it!

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of the characters, nor do I own "Why Can't I?" by Liz Phair.

Alicat Sanders: lol, sorry about making you squirt. Hope you like this next part… I'm just making Alexis up as I go along, so I don't know if she matches your character! She's fun though!

TheLOSTCSIfreak: oh, love your name! Here ya go!

Again, this is dedicated to Alice, my good friend.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

The locker room couldn't seem any smaller. Since Greg and I get off at the same time, we decided to go change at the same time. The result of this? Neither of us wants to change out of our gross-smelling clothes while the other is there. We just sit awkwardly, looking at each other and laughing nervously, then looking away again. After about five minutes of this, I can't take it anymore.

"This is ridiculous." Standing timidly, I start to unbutton my shirt, my back to Greg. I ease it off my shoulders, and then glance behind me at Greg. He's looking away like the perfect gentleman, but he looks over when he feels me looking at him. He grins at me and turns back away. Only then do I realize how awful I probably look… shirt hanging off of shoulders, looking at him through my eyelashes. Blushing, I take my shirt all the way off and shove it in my locker. I don't have many options here: a plain white shirt or my "I need a Hug" shirt. I grab the latter and look at Greg again. He has his shirt off, and I can't do anything but stare at his muscular back. Acting on impulse, I walk to him and put my hands on his shoulders. Hi skin feels warm beneath my hands. Jumping a little, he turns and looks into my eyes. Smiling, I lean closer and whisper in his ear.

"You ready?" He laughs and whispers back.

"Do I look ready?" Smiling even bigger, I pull away and admire him. I'm acting so unlike myself… I feel bolder, like I always do at the beginning of something big.

"You look fine." He winks at me and I feel like a 13-year-old girl. To my sadness, Greg pulls on a shirt. He smiles at me, and then grabs his keys from his locker.

"Let's go." He puts a hand on the small of my back, gently leading me to the door. My heart is pounding so fast… I hardly notice Grissom watching us go together.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Greg helps me into his car and then gets in himself. Finally, my brain starts working. Greg starts the car and looks over to me; he must see the panic in my eyes, because he immediately reaches over and takes my hands in his.

"Alexis, what's wrong?"

"Grissom saw us." Greg laughs, dropping my hands. I feel angry. "You don't think it matters?" He shakes his head, looking into my eyes. My anger evaporates. I could never be angry with Greg for long.

"As far as Grissom knows, we're just going for a friendly breakfast as co-workers." My spine tingles at the way he states this… it's like we're having a secret meeting that no one knows anything about.

"Thank you so much for asking me, Greg…" I don't know what else to say. I sure can't say what I feel right now.

"You're welcome. Hey, Alexis, I know we never really talk…" oh god, please don't ask me why… "How old are you?"

"Two years younger than you." I can't believe I said that. He probably thinks I'm a stalker now. He doesn't even notice, or if he does, he doesn't make a big deal about it.

"Nice. Um…" I can tell he's struggling for words.

"Can I turn on the radio?" He nods, and I do. A song is just beginning, and I know it but I can't remember what it's called. Greg pumps his fist into the air and whoops happily.

"What?"

"I love this song!" I laugh, and when the words start Greg starts singing energetically along.

Get a load of me, get a load of you

DRIVING down the street and I hardly know you

It's just like we were meant to be.

Greg goes on, changing to words to suit his purposes.

Holding hands with you when we're out at night

He reaches over and grabs my hand, wiggling his eyebrows at me and making me laugh.

Got a BOYFRIEND…

He trails off, letting the singer have a solo as he asks me a question.

"You don't, do you?" Blushing, I shake my head furiously. He grins, and then shouts as the music builds. "You know this song?" I nod, and he points at me. "Take it!" I laugh, but sing my heart out.

But this is just the beginning, we're already wet and we're gonna go swimming.

Caught up in the moment, we clash heads in the middle and sing together.

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you?

It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it, so tell me

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you?

Laughing, we part our heads.

"You have a beautiful voice." He wipes tears of laughter from his eyes as he says it.

"So do you, Mr. Sanders." I want to kiss him so badly… "Where do you know that song from?" He blushes and looks a little uncomfortable.

"Actually, my old girlfriend introduced me to it and I got hooked." I don't know what to say, but then I notice he's pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. I start to freak out.

"Greg, what are you doing?" He smiles and grabs my hand.

"Ready to go inside?" I pull away, trying to think of how I can escape.

"Greg, I thought we were eating…" Dammit, I really wanted to trust him. And he picked a crappy Motel Inn, for gods' sake. He looks confused.

"We are…" he points to my left. A small building with a glowing sign that proudly displays, "The Little Diner" stands several feet from the motel.

About now, I feel really stupid. Why do I always assume the worse? Not every guy is a Sam.

"Oh… that's nice." I feel like crying, but I just jump out of the car. He follows, and thankfully it seems as if he didn't notice how untrusting I was. As we sit down in The Little Diner, I can't help but question myself. I amaze myself with how little I trust people. What really gets to me, what started my whole mistrust thing… well, besides Sam… was when I was 14 and my little sister was 10.

My sister, Angel, was so smart. She won the elementary school spelling bee, won several essay contests, and even earned enough money to buy our town a new orphanage. No one cared, though. No one thought it was amazing that this little 10-year-old girl had such a big heart. No one ever said, "Oh, congratulations! I saw you on TV!" I was jealous of her success, of course, but I supported her. We hardly ever fought. I would get home one hour before her on school days. At 3:30 pm, she would walk in the door and we would talk about how her day had gone. That Friday, she wasn't home at 3:30. She wasn't home at 5:30.

Angel didn't come home at all that day.

Then people started caring. No one cared when this little girl changed so many people's lives. They cared when it was discovered, based on DNA evidence, that she had been kidnapped by a man suspected to be a child abuser and the police couldn't locate him. No one cared when she was the youngest girl to ever win a spelling bee. They cared when her broken body was found naked in the river about five months later. They didn't care when she was the first person to organize help for a family who has lost their home. They cared when the TV announced to the world that my baby sister had been raped repeatedly over the five months and then beaten to death. They didn't care about the good things. Only the bad things got them to react. It was too late for Angel; she will never know what these people really thought of her. I don't know why it happened to her. I don't know what happened to the man who killed her. I do know that no one would talk to me, not even my parents, until one day a man from the crime lab who had worked on my sisters case stopped by to see me. He said he worked in DNA and that he was so sorry. He told me he had made sure no one dropped the case. I knew then that I wanted to help people like he had helped me. Maybe that's part of why I immediately fell in love with Greg; maybe it's just coincidence.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Breakfast is almost over. Greg looks a little sad. I feel awful that I accepted his offer and spent the whole time in silence.

"So, Greg… how long have you been working there?" I feel so stupid… it's a stupid question. He grins widely, though, seeming relieved that we're talking.

"About seven years now."

"And you're still not a CSI?' He shakes his head sadly.

"Nah… but soon, I hope."

"Me too. It'd be fun to work together." He smiles, and I reach across the table and grab his hands. We just look at our hands for a minute, and everything feels so perfect… then he pulls away slowly, looking at his feet.

"Alexis, I love being here with you, but I have to ask you something." I sit back, listening intently.

"Why have you avoided me in the lab the past year?" Shit. Double shit. I was so happy, and now I have to make a huge decision; I could tell him everything, or I can lie. I don't think I'm capable of lying to Greg.

"Greg, from the first day…" how can I saw this without seeming crazy? "I've always-" our phones ring in unison. Sick with relief, I pick mine up. Greg does the same.

"Hey Alexis, it's Sara."

"Hi Sara, what's up?"

"We've got a case. We need you over here right away." She gives me the address, and I jot it down and hang up. Greg finishes a little after I do, and I immediately squeal at him.

"I've got my first crime scene!"

"I've got the second part my initiation…" he looks a little pale.

"Baxter case?"

"Yep."

"Greg, we're working together!" He grins and gives me thumbs up.

"Sweet! Let's get going."

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

It didn't even occur that people might assume things about Greg and me until I got there. Sara and Grissom watch in amazement as Greg helps me out of his car. My klutziness kicks in and I trip into his arms. Anyone else would have set me down and made sure I was okay, but Greg picks me up, twirls me around, and flings me over his shoulder. Despite the audience, I squeal with glee and laugh as he carries me towards the scene.

"Greg, out me down!"

"Never!" Suddenly, he does. I see Grissom looking at us skeptically. Greg shoots me a look, and I realize how important this case is to both of us. Greg could get the promotion he's been dreaming of, and this is my only chance to make a first impression as a Crime Scene Investigator. I somber up and look directly into Grissom's eyes.

"You both ready?" Sara grins at us, and I know it's not just for good luck; I wonder if she'll ever let me forget that I showed up with Greg. We nod, and I don't know about Greg, but my stomach is twisted with nerves. Grissom walks through the door, Sara close behind, and Greg and me behind her, side by side. I can't help it; I grab his hand tightly, and he squeezes my hand back. The smell of blood is thick in the air. We walk into the bedroom, and my mouth falls open at what I see. Brass is already there, and he tells us what happened.

"Victim is 16 year old Kelsey Baxter. Her parents and younger sister were out for dinner. 18-year-old neighbor said he heard screams and called the cops.

"He?" I feel furious, and my mouth if threatening to go crazy. "Was she sexually abused?"

"No sign of sexual abuse or rape," Grissom quips. He's already examining her. I feel the bile rise in the throat, and I swallow harshly.

"What do you want me to do, Grissom?" He looks into my eyes, and looks a little shocked. I don't blame him; people have told me how my eyes seem to pierce through your skin when I'm angry.

"What do you want to do?" He's giving me a chance. What if I screw up the whole case?

"I'd like to go next door and talk to the boyfriend."

"You mean the neighbor?" I don't say anything. "Go ahead. Take Greg with you. I rush out the door, going too fast for Greg to keep up. Not even someone I love could keep me from talking to this bastard.