"What brings you by?" Greg asked, his feet on the desk, The Who playing on the stereo.

"Your crew brings me by." I'd been sitting for hours and my legs were numb, so I paced around his office in hopes of getting my blood flowing again.

"You're not here to see me? Why Jimmy, I'm heartbroken," he grinned as he twirled the cane.

"I'm not here to see them. I'm here because of something they said."

"About me?"

"Yes."

"Judging from that smirk on your face I'd have to say it wasn't all that bad." Greg leaned back and switched off the music, then gave me a smirk of his own. "So what's so damned important that you're using it as an excuse to put off doing your paperwork."

"I'm not putting off anything," I replied, then stopped pacing in front of his desk.

"Excuses, excuses," he said to me. "I don't need an excuse to put off my paperwork, so I've got you beat in that department. Now are you going to drop this bombshell sometime today or am I going to sit here and die of suspense?"

"They stopped by my office to thank me," I replied.

"What for?"

"For making you happy." I waited for a reaction but couldn't read one. "Are you happy, Greg?"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Is that all you have to say about it?"

The smirk was back. "I'm turning cartwheels on the inside if that's what you want to hear. Maybe later you and I can hold hands and skip down the corridor."

"Are you happy, Greg?" I asked again, leaning forward with my hands on the desk.

"I don't know, am I?"

"Your crew wanted me to know that," I informed him, though if I told him that I knew the identity of the second gunman on the grassy knoll he still would have shown that same thin smile. "They were telling the truth."

"If you already know the answer then why are you asking the question?"

"I want to hear you say it."

"And if I don't?" His ice-blue gaze never flinched.

"I'm not leaving until you do."

An empty threat. He saw right through it. He leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "Well then, I guess we're both in for a long night."

"Greg, why--"

"I should be asking you the same thing, Jimmy. Why is this so important? What's in it for you?"

"Nothing." I relented and flopped into the chair. "I just want to hear you say it."

He pondered that for a bit. "Fair enough," Greg said. "What's in it for me?"

"What do you want?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. I should have known I wouldn't get through this unscathed.

"What have you got?" He paused more effect than anything else. "Jimmy, you should plan ahead for these things."

"Plan ahead?" I puzzled.

"You already know that you make me happy," he said, pulling himself up with the cane and limping around the desk. "You don't have to question that. What you should be asking yourself right about now is what will it take to keep me that way."

"Do I even want to know?" I asked as he took my hand and pulled me up until we were toe-to-toe.

"You should already know," Greg said with a low growl, then kissed me hard for what seemed like forever.

He broke away and movement caught my eye. Foreman was in the door. I didn't even know anyone else was in the office. My back had been to the door until Greg pulled me up.

"Dr. Foreman, can you give us just a minute?" he asked, cool as ever.

"Sure," Foreman spit out before he flew down the corridor.

I shook my head and sighed. "Did you really have to do that again?"

"I didn't have to, I wanted to. It makes me happy," he said, running his thumb up and down my cheek. "I'm just being me, remember? Admit it, you enjoyed that as much as I did."

"Okay...a little--"

"I knew it," he smiled. "You really know how to make a guy happy."

"So you're admitting it?"

"I never said I wasn't. Working late tonight?"

"Probably," I said. "Like I said, it never ends."

"That's too bad," he said. "See, unlike your little wives, I understand a doctor's schedule. I won't be mad if you're late. Take your time and think of a way to make me happy, and maybe I'll do the same for you."