Smart people will have figured out that I am indulging in the Twilight series. This is posted in two places and . check them out, they have real potential. I just realised that I forgot the disclaimer in the epilogue and guess what, I OWN NOTHING!!!

I did get a TWILIGHT reference in there somewhere, but I didn't spoil anything. Promise.

Grissom, as per mentioned, wasn't just any average guy. 5'11 with a medium build, he passed through the world, his passport and birth certificate stating that he was 48. What no one realised though, was that they were off, by a few hundred years, at least. His outfit consisted of slacks, polo shirt and a jacket, all black. Having been laid on the couch for over an hour, he was starting to get a little pissed off. Not a good sign. As if the sonic waves of his mind had finally passed on the message, two figures almost popped from thin air before him though he didn't seem concerned, just annoyed,

"You're late."

"Sorry Gil. Heather was finishing with a client."

"I thought we were passed the making-a-lame-ass-excuse-because-you-were-fucking-your-girlfriend, James."

"It's Jim, Gilbert." Standing just shorter than Grissom but with a heavier build, Captain James 'Jim' Brass was dressed in a similar fashion, with a white buttoned shirt, opened at the collar, which his companion had become fond of suddenly. That was when he noticed something wasn't quite right. "You're thinking about her again?"

"Kind of hard not to."

"Damn it Gil."

"Bitch to me later Jim. Because you two can't keep it together, we are late for work." Without another word, Grissom charged out of the townhouse.

Unusually tall for a female, her thin frame clad in her usual fashion, a tank top and hip-hugger jeans, Sara Sidle strolled down the crime lab corridor, a woman on a mission. Something had been troubling her supervisor lately and she knew it wasn't a serial killer, they hadn't had one of those for a while. She had spent every waking moment trying to piece the puzzle together, but so far, nothing fit. Two years previously, Catherine had unintentionally blown up the DNA lab, which she had been caught in. finding her outside on the pavement, he had taken her hand and observed the deep laceration on her palm. At the time she hadn't noticed anything odd, other than the fact that he began avoiding her. It wasn't until the following year, having being pulled over for a DUI, that Grissom had again taken her hand and driven her home. She hadn't noticed the first time due to shock, but she couldn't help but notice how cold his hand was. When she mentioned it to Charlie, a distant friend from San Francisco, she joked at how Grissom could be a vampire. How she now wished she hadn't starting reading 'Twilight'. Everything about Edward seemed to fit, only she had seen Grissom go into sunlight more times than she could count (hello, they live and work in Vegas) and she was certain she had never seen him …

She purposely took the long root to the breakroom, hoping to catch a glimpse, just to ease her unexplainable paranoia. Instead, she crashed into him, assignment slips littering the floor.

" God Griss, I'm so sorry." They bent down simultaneously, knocking heads. Their hands collided as they reached for the same piece of paper. A heavy chill ran down Sara's spine as the familiar cold of his skin touched hers. She prayed he hadn't noticed.

"Sara its fine, I got it." Seeing how freaked she was by his touch, he quickly made his escape, both still feeling the burning sensation from the contact.

Home invasion. Sara was positive that her night couldn't any worse.

"Hey Jim, what can you tell me?"

"Place belongs to Dennis Sanchez, 38. Came home to find someone inside. One minute he's cahsing the guy out, the next, he gets thrown against the wall. He's on route to the hospital as we speak with a serious cut on his head and a concussion."

"Any sign of a third party?"

"That's your job."

Everything inside was a mess. A whole in the wall and a blood pool suggested that his story was true and he wasn't trying to scam his insurance company. Not that he needed it, then again, people in Vegas were known for doing stupid things. Being so immersed in her evidence collecting, she failed to notice the figure appear in the room, until her back hit the wall, a large, ice cold hand clamped around her throat.

"Pretty little thing, ain't ya? Got a first name Sidle?"

His grip tightened but she managed to choke out "Go to hell" before being thrown across the room with great force. Even through her predicament, Charlie's vampire theory was being more than plausible. With incredible speed, her attacker had crossed the room before she could blink.

"Leave her alone Terrance." Obviously someone was here to save her. But why did he sound so familiar.

"This one is mine Gilbert, do not interfere. Unless you can finally accept what you are?"

"We had a deal. Leave her alone."

"What if I don't want to? Would you kill me?"

"Obviously, I don't have a choice anymore."

"So be it."

Everything became one big blur as the two men began to fight. Fists and blows were exchanged until one bit the other in the arm and fled. The other didn't seem to care as he checked on her, cold but gentle fingers touching her neck for a pulse. She swore she heard him growl, avoiding touching the blood that had began flowing from a wound on her cheek. Faint sirens could be heard in the background. The cool sensation lifted from her skin as she began to lose consciousness.