Contents

Xander Goes Ballistic

Ballistics in Danger

Ballistic in Chicago

Strange Ballistics.

Xander Goes Ballistic

(thanks to the list sib who gave the name)

Xander looked at the man across the desk from him, giving him a small grin.  "So, why are you interviewing?"

"I'm doing a secondary one," the young man said, giving him a long look.  "There's too much going on and Grissom doesn't do people very well so he delegated.  Usually it'd have been Catherine who did this but she's now on swing shift."  He shrugged.  "Besides, I was kinda in your place a few years back and it wasn't that bad.  Night shift's pretty friendly and decent to each other.  We're all a little odd around here, except for day shift, and they're just political."

"I hate politicians, they're always so slimy," Xander quipped, grinning at him.  "Besides, I like the night.  I've spent a lot of time doing night stuff."

"I can see that."  He looked at him. "Where do I know you from?"

Xander blushed a bit and shifted.  "Do you remember breaking down in Oxnard?"

"Um, yeah, I was in my first year of my Masters," Greg said, frowning a bit.  "You were that dancer, the guy who got broken down and had his car explode."

Xander nodded, grinning again.  "Yup, 'twas me.  I got to leave about a month after you got rescued.  Thankfully you didn't have to work beside me then."

"No, that wouldn't have been good.  I've got rhythm, but not like that," he admitted with a dry smirk.  "Hey!" he shouted as someone walked past the doorway.  The dark skinned man with short hair in the jeans and t-shirt stepped back and opened the door.  "Warrick, this is our ballistics intern wannabe, Xander.  Xander, this is Warrick Brown, he's one of our CSI-3's that does field work.  He's working with me.  He works on Catherine's shift."

"Hey," Xander said, stretching back to shake his hand.  "I've heard good things about this department."

"Welcome.  I hope you get the spot. I did one of the other interviews for Grissom and she wasn't very excited."

"Oh, I love guns," Xander said with a wicked grin.  "I always have.  There's nothing better than shooting off a land-to-air rocket and watching the damage, then going to piece things back together to see what it did."

Warrick blinked a few times.  "You did what?"

"Part of our training," he admitted with a grin.  "None of the other students could stand the recoil so I got to shoot it off and then the class got to put the small building back together again to check the damage coefficient."

"Wow," Greg said, grinning at them both.  "That's pretty exciting."

"Yeah, but not half as good as doing some other things.  I'm actually a very good shot and very knowledgeable about guns.  I like guns.  Guns good.  Bullets nice and shiny, and sometimes smooshed funny and delicate, but the puzzle is what draws me."

Warrick looked at him.  "You'll do well here," he decided.  "I've got to go, we're heading into the field.  Later, guys.  And welcome, Xander."  He shut the door and walked off, shaking his head.  His boss gave him a look so he shrugged.  "Greg's doing an interview with one of the new ballistic interns wannabe's.  This one shot off a rocket and then the class got to recreate.  He's a puzzle guy."

"Interesting," Catherine admitted. "Where's he from?"

"Sounds like LA without the slang."  He shrugged and walked on, going to get his partner and head out.  They had a shooting at a minimart.

She saw Greg come out with the young guy and walk him back toward the front desk, following discretely behind them.  At least she thought so but the guy turned around to grin at her.  "Sorry, being nosy."

"Xander, this is Catherine.  She runs swing shift."

"Hey," he said, shaking her hand. "Sorry about the sweaty palms, but Greg's one of the smartest people I know and they make me nervous."

"That's fine," she agreed, smiling at him.  "You're a charmer, aren't you?"

"Not really.  I don't date anymore.  Only evil people want to date or sleep with me so I gave it up."  He grinned and followed Greg back to the front desk, where he signed out and headed back to his hotel for the rest of the night.

"Evil people?" she asked when Greg came back.

"Yeah, his last girlfriend turned out to be a serial killer.  Apparently the one before her wasn't any better and the one before that was a snotty cheerleader sort.  His words," he admitted, going to tell Grissom what he had learned and give his evaluation.  He liked this guy a lot.  He leaned into the head office, tossing over the evaluation form. "I liked him."

"That's good," Grissom said absently.  "Is he qualified?"

"Very, he's a lover of puzzles.  He's a very good shot, knows a lot about weapons, got to fire a land-to-air rocket to blow up something and then his class got to recreate it."  Grissom looked up at that so he shrugged. "I don't know, that's what he said.  I think you'll like him.  He's got a sense of humor, but he's steady.  I actually met him in the past, when my car broke down.  He was dancing because his car had exploded during a post-high school road trip so he could leave.  He told some pretty good stories back then too.  Warrick seemed to like him.  I introduced him and Catherine introduced herself.  Got anything for me?"

"Yeah, Greg, I've got a minimart robbery."

"Nick and Warrick just went out on one of those.  Is it the same one?"

"I don't know," he admitted.  "Check with Catherine since she's still here."  He nodded and jogged off, going to do that.  "Well, that's very interesting," he admitted, looking at the evaluation form that had landed on top of his case files.  He read it over, nodding at Greg's observations.  "Very interesting," he decided, putting him aside to call him back the next night for a real interview.

***

Grissom looked at the young man sitting slouched across from him, giving him an odd look.  "Comfortable?"

"Yeah, my back hurts.  Sorry," he offered, sitting up straighter.  "Every now and then my back decides to go out on a date without telling me first, and then it'll come home drunk and limp and crashes, then it'll be fine with a hangover the next morning."

"Spasms?" Grissom guessed.

"Former construction worker," he offered in return, grinning at him.  "I'm not a bad guy, Mr. Grissom, but I'm not the staid, uptight, stick-up-the-butt person that did my very first interview.  I had a really hard time not laughing at him.  Seeing Greg after that shows I was right about the rest of you not being that uptight."

"I understand, every now and then I get the same feeling around Ecklie," he admitted, finding he liked this young man.  "So, Greg tells me you know a lot about guns?"

"Yes, sir.  I've used them a lot in the past and I'm actually pretty good with guessing ballistics sizes just from the bullet itself.  That's why I went this way instead of DNA, that and the science for DNA techs is a *lot* harder."

Grissom nodded.  "It is," he agreed.  "Greg's used to be ours."

"I kinda guessed that.  He's probably one of the smartest people I've ever met.  Including you, but he hides his behind the fun guy exterior."

"That's true," he admitted with a small grin.  He definitely could get to like this guy.  "I heard something about a rocket?"

"Yeah, as an Advanced Ballistics 2 class project, I got to fire a land-to-air rocket into a concrete and brick filled building to see the damage it caused, and then the class got to put it back together again with the Advanced Field Techniques class.  It was kinda a rush."  He beamed at him.  "The others couldn't handle the recoil and a few of them were deathly afraid of guns.  I'm not."

"I can tell.  I did the background check and I came up with a classified military file?"

"Um, you did?" he asked, looking a bit confused.  "Did it have a year on it?"  He nodded, handing over the report he had gotten.  Xander snorted.  "Stupid military wannabes. There was a group who kinda, um, tried to take over my town for experiments and the like," he offered, handing it back with a small wince as his back stretched.  "They didn't like me; I wasn't very compliant.  As a matter of fact, I and my friends were about enemy number one to them since we kinda, um, drove them outta our town."

"I see."  He made a note of that.  "Care to share details?"

"Not really.  Wanna hold my hand when I have nightmares about 'em?" he offered.  Grissom laughed at that.  "Not kidding.  But thanks."  He smiled, a true, bright smile of friendship.  "If all your crew are like you, I could easily get along with them.  That Warrick guy seemed pretty decent.  Greg seems like a great guy.  Catherine was kinda a hottie but I'd never hit on anyone I work with.  Only evil people want to date me."

Grissom shook his head.  "We're not all like Greg and Warrick.  We have a female CSI who does field work.  She's off tonight."

"Okay.  Not an issue.  I get along well with females.  I actually have more problems getting along with guys most of the time.  Most of my friends have always been girls."

"Don't call Sara a girl to her face," Warrick said from the doorway.  "She'll hit you.  Boss, needed out front.  Catherine's brakes were tampered with."

"Give me ten."

"I can come back," Xander offered.

"Two questions," Grissom countered.  "If you don't know an answer, will you ask?"

"No, first I'll try to guess based on what information I have and then ask someone more knowledgeable to check my answer to make sure I'm right or to justify what I thought so I can learn better.  I prefer an educated guess system then learning whether I'm right or not."

"I can accept that.  You don't plan on hitting on anyone you work with?  We've had some problems in the past."

"Are any of your people psychos, serial killers or rapists, murderers, or otherwise bad guys?"  Grissom slowly shook his head.  "Then they wouldn't like me anyway and I may flirt but I'm a tease.  I never follow through.  Then again, if you catch me dating, do a background check immediately," he offered with a small grin.  "It's usually necessary."

Grissom smothered a laugh at that but Warrick let his out.  "Well, you're original.  We don't mind flirting but watch it with Sarah."

"Sure, not an issue.  I can deal with limited amounts of stick-up-the-butt people but not be totally around them every day for the rest of my life."

"That's fine," Grissom said, standing up and shaking his hand.  "Let me introduce you to Bobby, he's our night shift ballistics guy.  I'll let him watch you tonight and do your final evaluation.  Then I'll make a decision between you and the other person who got this far."

"Great.  Do I need a lab coat?  I've got mine packed in my trunk in an airspace bag."

"Please," Grissom agreed.  He walked around the desk and walked out with Xander, stopping in the ballistics lab.  "Bobby?" he called.  The tech looked up from his microscope.  "This is Xander.  He's a candidate for our intern position.  Give him tonight."

"Sure," he agreed. "Got a lab coat?"

"In my trunk in an airtight bag.  Give me five minutes?"

"Sure, come right back here," he agreed.

Xander nodded, beaming as he followed the others out to where the Tahoe had crashed into the front of the building.  He whistled.  "Brake fluid leak back here, boss," he called, pointing at it as he walked past it.  "Way gushing too."

"Thank you, Xander.  Be careful tonight."

"Of course I will be."  He grabbed the airtight bag and walked back inside after closing his trunk, heading back to the lab, only getting lost once.  The woman he accidentally walked in on grinned at him and pointed next door.  He walked in and put the bag under the jacket rack, opening it and taking out his labcoat, his box of gloves, and his glasses.  "Hi again," he said cheerfully.  "Where am I going and what'm I doin' tonight?"

"First, let's go over some basics," he said, looking the boy over.  "No latex?"

"These are a bit thinner but better material so I have more sense of touch.  I used to work construction so I use these so I still have that."

"Interesting."  He took one of them to look over.  "These are nice.  Expensive?"

"A bit but I'm more than willing to buy my own or use the standard latex when it's not a touch-sensitive thing.  I did my minor in trace."

"Very interesting."  He walked him over to their cabinet of guns and watched as the boy's face lit up.  "Have a few of your own?"

"Yeah, I've got two nines, three revolvers, one thirty eight and the others are forty-fives, and a few pieces of artillery.  Plus I have some speed loaders for the revolvers and the stuff to pack my own bullets."

"That's cool.  What do you target with most?"

"One of my nines."  He put on his glasses and pulled one of the revolvers down to look it over.  "This baby is dusty.  Is it part of my stuff to clean 'em?"

"It will be if you get the job," he said dryly. "Artillery?"

"Yeah, um, claymores, a launcher with some small anti-tank rockets, and a LANS I bought in LA last year."  He grinned at him.  "None of which are in this state and I'll be putting them into storage when I come."

He looked at him.  "How did you get those?"

"It was kinda necessary in my last life.  I also have demolitions experience and I make a pretty bomb for the classes too."

Bobby stared at him for a minute.  "I think you might be overqualified for this job, Xander."

"Yeah, but I'm missing an eye so I'm not qualified to go into SWAT.  That was my first choice. I do really well with bombs.  Got the manuals at home."  He leaned closer.  "Before you ask, no I'm not from Montana, and yes, I do have a license which I'll be switching over."

"Good to know," he offered.  "Come over to the scope.  We're comparing ballistic samples from a test-fire and a round pulled out of a body.  Have you done an autopsy?"

"One of my buds at school was a pre-med and working in the cadaver lab. We used to have lunch in there all the time while he was putting things back together again. I'm hoping some of those surgeon wannabes learn a lot better because they made a gross mess of the bodies they were working on."  He blew the dust from that gun toward the firing pit tank so it wouldn't land anywhere delicate then put that gun back and went over to help him.  He looked then looked at him.  "They're different calibers."

"They are," he agreed, coming back.  "Can you tell why?"

"Well, the one on the left is a thirty-eight from a revolver.  Unless I'm mistaken it's a German brand but I can't remember the name of them.  The other is from an automatic and it's a nine mil.  Six to the right," he said, considering it.  "Smith and Wesson is usually five but I heard their newest prototype is a six.  Um, Luger is a six to the right, right?" he asked, looking at his soon-to-be mentor, who could only nod and grin at him.  "Sorry, I like to make educated guesses and then ask for confirmation.  And if I must to justify why I thought that.  If that's okay with you?"

"Sure," he agreed.  "I like you, Xander.  You don't pretend to know things.  That puts you ahead of the last kid I saw."  He looked around.  "Ever run a mass spectrometer to find out why that's not copper and not steel?"

"I have and I can tell you now it's copper inside, that's why it's so squishy, but the exterior was probably platinum or gold, which is still soft but effective, which means someone else was packing at home, probably melting down his bling."

Bobby grinned.  "Nice work, but we'll need official confirmation of that."

"Sure.  Can I do the test-fire to get a clean sample so you don't compromise this one?"

"Go ahead, we warn around here."

"Sure."  He picked up the gun and waved it and Bobby nodded, watching as he checked for ammo then walked over to the firing spot.  He put on earmuffs.

"Firing one," he shouted, then shot into the tube.  He ejected the empty clip then checked the chamber before putting the gun back beside the microscopes and pulling the bullet out with the magnetic tipped rod.  He sat down to look at it, then picked up a small vise clamp, getting it held tightly but not enough that it could be damaged, then a chisel and a hammer.  He split off the tip of the bullet and held it up for review, getting a nod.  Then he put it into a small sample bottle and walked over to the chemistry lab, smiling at the pretty lady in there.  "Hi, I'm a Xander intern.  I'm using the mass spec if you're not."

"Go ahead," she offered, watching as he put the sample bottle in and started the machine, smiling at his humming along with her music.  "You like jazz?"

"I'm not picky.  Usually I'm a rock or country boy, depending on my mood."  He beamed at her as his printout came out.  "Yes, I was right," he said happily, nodding to her.  "I'm hoping for the ballistics spot but I did a minor in trace if you need me.  I'm very accommodating and nice, but I don't date my coworkers so even if I flirt, I don't *flirt*," he offered. She laughed and shooed him off.  "Thanks, hope to see you again tomorrow night."  He took back his sample bottle and the print-out, walking past the older guy in the doorway.  "Hi," he said, smiling at him and heading back across the hall.  "Here you go, I was right, platinum outside, copper inside, and a bit of diamond dust in the platinum.  He's melting down his bling."  He presented the report with a flourish and a bow.  "What else may I do before I clean off the pitiful dust, sir?"

"Go ahead and clean.  We're waiting on our next sample," he admitted, grinning at him.  He saw Hodges hovering in the hall and nodded him in.  "Xander, this is Hodges, he runs trace."

"Hey," he said, waving at him.  "I'm a Xander person.  I did trace as my minor so if you need me to come hold corners of stuff, I can."

"No, I'm usually okay with that," he admitted, staring at him. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."  He gave him a long look.  "I'm fun to fill the air with happiness so others can't be depressed around me.  Otherwise I might get depressed again and start to date more evil people.  My last was a serial killer."

"Oh."  He nodded once.  "Okay then."  He looked at Bobby, who was snickering.  "You like him?"

"He's fun, he's knowledgeable, and he's got artillery at home.  He makes educated guesses and then asks for verification if he's not sure.  He's got a sense of humor.  That alone makes him better than the last one."

"Fine," Hodges agreed.  "Just don't prank me."

"I don't prank others, Hodges.  I hated being the butt of them when I was a teenager."  He looked at him.  "I could have went security but I didn't think they'd want a one-eyed guy either."

"You only have one eye?"

"Yeah, the other got popped by a dirty fingernail of someone attacking me and my friends."  He straightened up to look at him.  "I can be serious and I am when it matters, but I will lighten the room up with a joke if possible.  I'm a nice guy, just give me a chance, okay?  I even occasionally treat for sodas."

"Fine," he agreed, heading back to his lab.  That was very interesting.

Xander walked over to Bobby.  "Is he one of the stick-up-the-butt political people?" he hissed.

Bobby looked at him and nodded.  "That describes him perfectly on the bad days," he offered.  "How well do you work with women and gay guys?"

"I don't have a problem, I look on occasion but not real often myself.  Most of my friends have been girls so I get along better with the female side of the gender divide than I do the male side most of the time.  I'm not exactly the sportiest of sporty guys."  He shrugged and went back to cleaning, finding the towels, the cleaning oil, and the rod quickly.  "These, right?"

"Yeah, those," he admitted, watching him work for a few minutes, then going to find the CSI who needed this report.  "The new guy's cleaning weapons," he told Nick.  "Hey, Gris?"  Grissom looked over. "I like him so far and Hodges can tolerate him."

"Then he's hired unless he screws up too badly," he offered.  He went back to his sample collecting.

"Sure."  He went back to watch the boy some more, finding him digging out another bullet.  "New case?  Or just playing?"

"Had a stuck round, I did a test-fire to see if I could unstick it after using a bit of gun oil around the edge of the chamber," he admitted, holding up the bullet and the casing, then the gun.  "Sorry, didn't mean to break protocol. I yelled first."

"That's fine. I hadn't remembered one being stuck in there."  He took the gun to look over.  "That's actually not a bad job, Xander.  No damage done."

"Thank you, sir."  He handed over the bullet and the shell casing then got back to his cleaning job.  "This is kinda my form of meditation so yell if I start to hum annoying stuff."

"Sure."  He sat down to mark the report about what Xander had to do to clean this gun then let him see it so he could fix it and then sign it.  Xander glanced it over, corrected one spelling mistake he had made then signed it and handed it back.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome."  He got back to cleaning, only humming a bit now and then and it was musical at least.

Greg came in a few minutes later, holding up the report.  "Platinum?"

"Someone melted their bling," Xander said absently, blowing down a barrel.  "This one's been scrubbed with wire.  It's got burrs.  Want me to mark that down?"

"Sure, please," Bobby agreed, looking at Greg.  "He even cracked the bullet very well to run the mass spec on it."

"Wonderful.  I knew he'd be good at this when Gris had me check him.  Has he done an autopsy?"

"One of my buds back at school was pre-med and working in the cadaver lab.  We used to have lunch while he put them back together again."

"Eww," Greg noted.  "Very eww."  He shook his head but he was grinning at Bobby.  "Like him better?" he asked quietly.

"Much, and Hodges seems to tolerate him."

"Damn, are you a saint?"

"Not that any demon has told me, but I could stand a cult in my esteemed image," Xander joked back.

Greg snickered at that. "I like you, kid.  You could fit in well here."  He went to tell Grissom what the kid had found and tell him what Bobby had said as well.  "The kid is cleaning the stored weapons and he's volunteered to make notes on anything he finds," he reported, handing over the report.  "Xander said someone was melting their bling for their bullets."

Catherine snickered.  "He's from where?"

"Sunnydale originally but he went to UCLA for his forensics."

"Sunnydale?" Grissom asked.  "Where do I know that name from?"

"Massive earthquake, wiped the town out," Warrick reminded him.  "We were watching it in the break room as rescue teams got there, found most everyone on a bus."  He looked at Greg.  "How's he doing?"

"He's cleaning the stored guns and offered to write a report about an irregularity."

"Hey, he does paperwork, I'm impressed," Nick admitted.  "He quirky and odd?"

"Sense of humor," Greg told him.  "Kinda like mine."  He accepted the bagged samples.  "Anything else I can run back there for you?"

"Get a sample of the brake fluid for him, Sarah," Grissom called.

"Sure, Gris."  She scooped some up and handed it to him.  "Thanks, Greg."

"Welcome."  He walked his burden back there, running into Xander in the hallway but the guy only took some of his bags and carried them after him.  "Thank you," he offered, taking them from him.

"I only touch bagged things," he quipped.  "I don't want to get anything else dirty."

Hodges looked at him.  "You look like you took a bath today."

"I did, about four of them."  He smirked and walked off, going to finish his hunt for a bottle of soda and go back to his cleaning.

Hodges looked at Greg. "Did you know he only has one eye?"

"I didn't, but it doesn't really matter in that field," he noted. "He said he didn't want to do field work when I asked him."

"That's smart of him, he won't get shot at."

Bobby came in.  "Xander?"

"Went to the break room," Greg told him.  "He helped me heft and tote."

"Sure.  Oh, did he say anything about a demolitions license?"

"No, but I didn't ask," Greg said with a small shrug.  "He does?"  He nodded.  "Wow.  That'll come in handy I guess."

"He does?" Hodges asked.

"I used to wanna be SWAT but I can't do that with a physical disability," Xander said from the hallway.  "Sorry, boss, but Greg looked like a beast of burden."

"That's fine," he agreed.  "Go ahead and start cleaning again, Xander."  He nodded, going back to it.  "He's pretty good.  He's got artillery at home."  He grinned and went back to watching the boy.  "Word of advice, Xander.  There's six people around here you can't be yourself around.  Ecklie, Hodges, Sarah, and the day shift DNA tech, fingerprint tech, and supervisor.  Got it?"  He glanced over and nodded.  "Good boy.  That'll keep you out of the most trouble.  Sarah's kinda uptight. She does only the job and doesn't really like to joke around.  Nick and Warrick have their moments, but they usually have that nasty stress stuff at that time."

"That's fine.  We've all had days like that," Xander agreed.  "I remember quite well having to deal with moments like that at home and biting someone's head off. I'll make allowances but I may pout if they get too mean.  I do a mean impersonation of a kicked puppy, or so I'm told."

Bobby laughed at that.  "I'm sure you do."

***

Xander presented Grissom with the sealed envelope Bobby had given him.  "Here you are, sir, and the three reports.  I was cleaning guns and found a few with some problems.  Bobby said I should give these to you as well."  He stepped back and stood at parade rest, hands behind his back.

Grissom opened the envelope and smiled at it, then looked at the three reports.  "We usually like these in plain english, Xander."

"Yes, sir, I would for anything going to court, but for inner-office stuff I thought I might be able to make it a little bit less dry and humorless. A Xander without humor is one who needs to be watched for sharp, pointy things."

Grissom snorted at that, looking up at him.  "Well, I think we'll take you.  There's one other person to interview, but Bobby liked you.  Greg, Catherine, and Warrick liked you."

"Hodges liked me, I had to come help him hold stuff because he ran out of double sided tape," he offered.  "He said I was at least not fidgeting, not rude, smelly, or brash, and I didn't try to prank him or make fun of him.  He did ask me if I was gay and I had to point out that I usually liked women but about one in every ten thousand men or so I could see myself with, but they had to give good backrubs.  He just gave me an odd look and told Sarah that her report was nearly done as she walked past.  She gave me an odd look as well, but I'm not quite sure why unless she was listening at the doors."

Grissom smiled at that.  "I'm glad. Like I said, I've got that one last interview to do.  If she doesn't make it past Bobby, you're it.  I know that you said you could start next month, but Bobby's going on vacation.  Can you start sooner?"

"Yeah, but it'll take me a few weeks to find a place to live and all that.  I've got to put my artillery into storage so I don't get busted for carrying it over state lines.  I've got to get my demolitions license switched over as well and my CPR card renewed.  I can do that when I get back however.  It'll probably take me a week or so to do the moving stuff and find a place at the least, two weeks at the most."

"Two weeks would be fine.  That makes it the third?" he offered.  Xander nodded that he could be there then.  That was actually two weeks and three days.  "Thank you, Xander.  I'll call you tomorrow night to let you know if you got it or not.  So far, you're it."

"Thanks, Mr. Grissom. I like you guys. You guys could appreciate me."  He snapped off a salute and a wink.  "I'm gonna go dancing now.  Have a good night and easy crimes."  He walked out, handing over his visitor's badge at the desk, sidestepping the detective walking his way.  "Sir."

He stopped to look at him.  "Who're you?  I saw you earlier."

"I'm Xander Harris," he said, shaking his hand.  "I wanna be the new ballistics intern."

"Oh.  That's fine then, just wondering.  I'm Detective Brass."

"Yes, sir, I heard someone muttering about you and your iron underwear of doom earlier," he offered with a grin.  "Do you spank hard when the time comes to whip someone?"

Brass stared, then burst out laughing. "I like you," he admitted, walking off shaking his head.  He ran into Bobby in the halls.  "I like that new kid."

"Grissom has one more interview," he said tolerantly. "I like him too. He's not afraid of paperwork, asking questions, and doesn't play stupid or helpless."

"Good," he agreed, going to talk to Grissom, handing him the file he was carrying. "I like that new kid.  He just told me someone was muttering about my iron underwear and asked if I spanked hard when I had to whip you guys."

Grissom groaned and shook his head.  "Xander is very unique," he offered.  "But he's good at what he does and he has a real love of guns.  Also a demolitions license."

"Ah, that's the kid.  SWAT's captain said he had talked to a kid coming out of a CSI tracked program about whether or not he could certify with them for disarming bombs even though he had a physical disability."

"He does?"

"He's missing an eye," Bobby said from the doorway.  "Grissom, I swear if you hire that bimbo over Xander, I'll quit."  He went back to work.

"I still have to interview her, she might not be so bad," Grissom said dryly, leaning back so he could read this new file.  "What's this?"

"Cannibals."

"Why?"

"I'm not real sure," he admitted.  "That's your job," he said fondly, leaving it in his capable hands.

"Sarah," Grissom called.  She stuck her head in the office and he waved the folder.  "Here, Cannibals."

"Gross," she said, but she took it.  "Who was that guy helping Hodges?"

"Xander?  He's the new ballistics intern unless I like this next person better.  Why?"

"He seemed kinda jokey and light," she said bitterly.  "He was even trying make Hodges laugh."

"Some people are like that, Sarah, you have to learn to get along with them," he said patiently.  "He's a nice guy with good qualifications and he pulls his own weight."

"Fine.  At least I won't have to deal with him every day."  She walked off, going to read the folder and start working on it.

***

Xander walked in his first night, taking his new, shiny badge from the receptionist and pinning it on his belt.  "Thank you," he said with a grin, handing her one of the chocolate flowers from his bunch.  "Sugar free," he offered as he walked off.  He ran into Hodges first and beamed at him, handing him one.  "Sugar free.  Just in case you're diabetic."  He kept one for himself and put the rest in the break room on the table, making the guy in there give him an odd look. "My first night, I thought I'd contribute to dinner.  They're sugar free so no one should have any problems with them.  Is Bobby in yet?"

"Probably in another half an hour.  Who're you?" Nick asked.

"Xander," he said, shaking his hand.  "The new ballistics intern."  He grinned.  "I'm a nice guy and I flirt, but I don't mean anything by it if it offends you.  Disclaimer in place, do I get a locker?"  Nick nodded.  "Cool.  Am I already assigned one?"

"Gris has it."

"Thanks. He in his office?"

"Yeah, but so's Ecklie."

"Eww.  Sure."  He went that way, taking one of the flowers with him.  He didn't hear yelling so he tapped gently, smiling at the man who opened the door.  "Sorry, didn't mean to intrude.  I didn't hear voices so I thought the meeting might have been done with.  I can wait," he offered.

"What's up, Xander?" Grissom asked.  He accepted the flower with an odd look.

"Sugar free chocolate.  I thought I'd contribute to dinner.  Do I get a locker?"

He searched his desk, coming up with the paper for the kid.  "Bring your own lock tomorrow."

"My bag's in my car with one," he promised.  "It's got a key so I'll give you the spare later."  He saluted.  "I'm off to do that and get changed.  I'll wait in ballistics for Bobby."  He nodded politely at Ecklie.  "There's some extras in the break room if you wanted one, sir."  He walked out, going to get his bag and then go back to his locker.  He ran into Greg and Warrick in there.  "Hey," he said happily.  "I brought chocolate roses for dinner."

"Cool," Greg agreed, grinning at him.  "Nick told us."  He looked at the locker, then at the one that was noted.  "That one's in use unless Sarah quit?" he asked Warrick.

He took the paper and nodded, leading him down the row.  "Here you go, Xander.  There's an extra one but it's faint.  Gris's pen is on the fritz again."

"Thanks."  He opened it and dusted it with his handkerchief, then set about putting his bag into it.  His extra labcoats and the plastic bag they were in got hung up.  His little bag of necessities, like soap and shampoo in case he had to pull a long shift went on the shelf.  A picture got put on the door.  His spare sneakers went into the bottom.  His spare outfit was folded on top.  His sets of scrubs in their airtight plastic bag were put on top of them, then he pulled out the lock and closed the door after grabbing a lab coat.  He locked his locker and pried off a key, putting it in his pocket and fixing the number on the slip of paper with the pen in his labcoat pocket.  He slid into his jacket and looked at Warrick, who was staring.  "Sorry, I might have overpacked, but I'd rather be prepared for longer shifts and things to happen."

"Not a problem.  Why scrubs?"

"Because back at school we had to work in some sterile environments sometimes.  We had one guy who was making his bullets out of uranium.  Those are sterile and packed in an airtight bag in case I need 'em or in case someone needs 'em and I'm here.  Besides, they come in handy when you get goo on you.  Or slime."  He shrugged and headed back to the lab, sliding the key under Grissom's door on the way past.  He got his soda and headed into the lab, running into his new boss.  "Hey."

"Hi again.  You look prepared.  That's good, we had a gang-banger event last night.  Lots and lots of nines."

"Sure, make my day," he said happily, settling in to catalog characteristics while Bobby did the test fires for comparison.  He even did the pictures for the files.  When he was done, each envelope had a paper stapled to it and an enlarged view of the bullet.  He looked at his boss, who only smiled and shook his head.  "Warrick was wondering why I had a set of scrubs in my locker."

"Why do you?  We don't usually get that dirty."

"Yeah, but we had a guy using uranium at school."

"Oooh," he said with a wince and a head shake.  "Contaminated?"

"Oh, yeah," he said dryly, waving a hand around.  "I learned how to scrub the proper way that day."  He got up and looked at the weapons.  "Need any more test fires?"

"No, we're good.  Come compare."

"Sure."  He came over with the stack, getting in to look at the bullet under the scope then do a preliminary sort, putting them in piles.  "That way we can check faster."

"Sure, kid.  Works for me.  Pictures are easier than bullets sometimes."  He watched him work, nodding at Grissom as he stuck his head in. "We're comparing."

"Sure.  Pictures?"

"Handier for mockups," Xander said absently, moving that bullet aside and selecting the next one.  Bobby put that bullet back into the sleeve and watched as Xander marked which gun this one was from on the pictures and the reports he had done already.  He got finished and presented the pile to his boss.  "There you go.  Two don't go with any weapon that I could see.  Unless I miscounted grooves.  One did have very faint grooves, but none of the test fires did, and the other had seven to the left, and none of the test fires did."

"Good job," he offered, checking a random few.  He nodded and put them aside.  "Very good job.  Gris, this case is Nick's?"  He nodded, going to tell Nick that they had a result for him.

Nick stuck his head in and looked at the piles.  "Whoa, that's a lot of paperwork."

"Enlarged photos to work from, reports on characteristics of each bullet and which gun it came from, all stapled to the sample's envelope and then retaped once I got done with them," Xander reported.  "Two aren't matches to anything so if they're from your case, it's a hiding and shy weapon."  He handed over the stack with a grin.  "Got any more for us?"

"Um, the doc has three coming out of a body," he offered.

"Sure."  He went that way, going to collect samples.  He knocked on the swinging door first.  "Doc, Nick said you might have samples for Bobby and I?" he offered quietly.

"I do, come on in.  Been to one of these before?"

"I had a friend in pre-med who was doing his workstudy in the cadaver lab putting parts back into the right spots," he said as he walked in, staying out of the way.  "We used to have lunch in there.  I've seen plenty of guts."  The doctors both looked at him and he grinned. "Yes, I'm odd and fun, but knowledgeable and cute."

The older doctor smirked at him.  "I can see that.  Here you go.  Two bullets."

"Nick thought three.  Should I wait?"

"The third's in tiny pieces," he offered, handing over a second tray.  "We separated those out."

"Sure.  Thank you, doc.  Yell and I'll come pick up if there's more."  He turned and walked out, nearly bouncing down the halls and grinning.  He walked into the lab, presenting them.  "Two full bullets and one little chunks of bullet."

"Go for it," Bobby said, waving a hand.  He watched as Xander carefully picked up the first one and used some saline solution from the cabinet to wash them off, then watched him hold it up to the light before putting it under the scope.  "Problems?"

"Unique scrunching pattern.  Never seen that before."

Bobby looked.  "Looks like it hit a thicker part of the skull."

"Yeah, I guess.  It's not as scrunched up as when they hit walls at least. That'd be one hard head."  He got back to work, humming quietly while he marked down notes.  "I'm thinking Smith and Wesson," he offered.  "Common groove pattern on the unsquished part, fairly standard automatic as well."  He got out of the way so he could be checked, moving to clean the second bullet and stared at it.  "No way.  This one went through something first," he said, putting it on the palm of his hand.  "There's no way unless that guy had armor plated skin that it could have done that in a body."

Bobby looked at it, then shrugged.  "Could be.  Compare and contrast, put that in your notes."  He sat back down. "You were right, that was a Smith and Wesson auto."

"Good me," he said happily, bending down to compare them. "Same swirly pattern of grooves.  That scrunching still bothers me.  That's not normal, right?"

"No, it's not," Bobby agreed.  "I'll ask to see who's case it is to see if there was body armor."  He stepped to the door and nearly ran into Greg.  "Who's case is under the knife?"

"Cat's.  Why?"

"Body armor?"

"Um, yeah, actually he was wearing chest armor. From what I heard, one through it, one to the head."

"Thanks."  He went to page Catherine to get particulars.  She came at a jog, so Xander held out the papers he had been making notes on.  "Body armor?"

"One shot to the head, one through the vest," she admitted.

"Between plates," Xander corrected.  "Minor scrunching from the kevlar fabric, but not enough to have hit a real plate and gone through.  Though, with the way the one in his head looked, he had a really hard skull or it was hitting something else first."  He got out of her way so she could look at them.  "Smith and Wesson automatic. Pretty standard, pretty cute, and pretty light for a man's gun.  Carries easily at the back, or in ankle holsters."  She gave him an odd look.  "You can't carry a bulky Eastern bloc gun under your armpit or on your ankle, they're too heavy and bulky.  These guys are designed for hidden carry and fairly light. They hide well under armpits or on ankles or thighs."

"Thank you, Xander.  Have one of these?"

He grinned. "No, I prefer blocky, bulky, Eastern bloc weapons.  They fit better in my hands and make me feel more manly."

She laughed at that and punched him on the arm.  "Thank you.  I'll check that second one.  What about the third?"

"Kibble," Xander said, pointing at the dish.  "I can try to recreate to make sure?"

"No, just clean 'em up and do your best.  Don't go to any heroics yet."  He nodded, going to get the saline again and rinse them off.  She looked at Bobby, who nodded and beamed at her.  "I like him."  She went to tell Nick what Xander had said, they had to find the gun and the guy.

"What about running it through the system?" Bobby asked.

"Too common.  No pin marks or casings.  You also can't pull a really clean picture of the grooves.  They're bent with the way they hit.  I'd say common ammo, cheap and easily available.  This guy seems to like cheap stuff.  They smelled like cheap cologne too."

"They did?"  He came to sniff a cleaned bullet.  "They do."  He carried it over to Hodges.  "There's a scent on the bullet.  Xander thinks it's cologne.  Can you run that for Catherine and Nick?"

"Sure," he said dryly, sniffing it.  "Aqua Velva I'm betting."  He went to run it through a computer system that could detect scents, coming back with a report and a nod.  "Aqua Velva."  He handed them both over.  "Nice catch on his part."

"Very.  Thanks, Hodges."  He headed to track down Catherine or Nick, finding him picking apart a chocolate flower.  "Where did those come from?"

"Your little lab monkey," he said with a grin.  "Something else?"

"Scented bullets."

"Cologne transfer?"

"Aqua Velva," he offered with a grimace.  "My little lab monkey found it.  Got any more?"  Nick tossed him the last flower and he grinned. "Thanks.  Have fun with this. He thinks the guy's pretty cheap and it's common ammo.  If you could bring me a casing, we could look for a pin impression."

"Thanks."  He went to find Catherine and tell her.  One of their suspects was drenched in Aqua Velva when they had questioned him.  "Xander found a good clue," he offered with a grin, letting her nibble a piece of his flower.  "There's cologne on them."  He handed over the report.

"I remember him," she said dryly.  "Stunk badly."  She stole another piece. "Those are fattening."

"Xander said they're sugar-free."

"Then he'll know to bring more next time," she said dryly, walking off with his flower.  Nick wasn't really a chocolate guy anyway.

"Hey," he complained.  "I needed that."  He went to rescue his poor chocolate before she ate it all, grinning at Brass as they passed by him.  "Gris is hiding in his office."

"I'm sure.  Who got the case I handed him?"

"Probably Sarah."  He stole the rest of his flower back and ate it before she could protest.  "I peeled the foil off.  You make more than me, you can buy yourself some."

"Do I wanna know?" Brass asked himself as he went to find Grissom.  "Probably not."  He looked in the lab, watching Xander do something with a rifling brush, shaking his head.  He definitely didn't need to know today.

***

The day before his first month was up, Xander and Greg were having breakfast.  Greg was checking on him, which was sweet, and had shown him their favorite place to go for pancakes and waffles.  "So," Greg said between bites.  "How's the lab?"

"Going well.  Bobby and I have a companionable working relationship.  He does a random check of my stuff about ever tenth case to make sure I'm not screwing up or anything."  He ate another bite slowly.  He liked real food other people cooked.  "We do pretty well but we can't agree on musical tastes.  I'm more a classic rock guy and he's not."  He shrugged one- sidedly and looked around at their fellow patrons, staring blatantly at one.  "Huh," he said quietly.

Greg looked then looked at him.  "It's just a costume from a show."

"Yeah, maybe," he said absently, getting up to go check.  "Hey," he said, grinning at the creature sitting at that table.  "Resident?"

"No, visiting," he said, looking up at the guy.  Then he swore, putting down his fork.  "I'm harmless."

"I know."  He sat across from him, staring at the human-looking face mask.  "SuperGlue?"  He got a nod.  "Hot water, man, soak it off."  He glanced back at Greg, then at him.  "How much trouble is there around here?"

"Almost none.  There's a resort for vacations.  There's a guy who keeps us all in line.  He's like the Godfather for the city."

"Even better."  Xander held out a hand.  "You don't worry me."  The demon shook it.  "You can warn them I'm in town and peacefully minded if you want."  He stood up and went back to his table but it was empty of all but his plate.  "Did he abandon me?" he asked the waitress.

"One of his coworkers came to grab him."

"Did he pay for my breakfast?"  She grinned but shook her head.  "Pity, it's the day before payday and he makes more."  He shrugged and sat down.  "Can I have more milk, please?" he asked in a little kid's voice.

"Sure, kid."  She went to get the pitcher and bring it out.  "You know about that stuff?"

"I'm from Sunnydale," he said quietly.  "I'm Xander."   She stared in open-mouthed horror.  He shrugged.  "I'm here on an internship.  I don't want trouble.  I'd love not to have to explain an apocalypse to anyone I'm working with," he offered quietly.  "I don't wanna go hunt or anything.  So unless there's trouble, I don't care."

"Thank you. My future baby thanks you too."

"I felt," he offered with a shy grin.  "Some day it'll wanna love me too because it's putting out bad guy vibes.  I'm guessing that's the sort of guy his daddy is."  She nodded, grinning at him.  "I'll expect to see you often when I get off shift.  I do tip too."  She smiled at that and walked off, leaving him to eat in peace.  That way he could worry in peace about something coming up to test him or kill him. He just hoped it wasn't at the station.  That could get really messy to explain.

***

Xander walked into the station that night and saw everyone staring at him.  "What?" he asked, looking down at himself.  "I had to do laundry," he said, looking at them again. "I know dress pants aren't mandatory but I didn't have anything else clean."

"That's okay, we like you anyway," Catherine assured him. "It's payday and you didn't call off?"

"No, I can get my check cashed tomorrow.  I'm not that desperate for money.  Yet.  I'm not that irresponsible. I used to run a construction crew, I know guys who did that."  He shrugged and went to get his coat and glasses from his locker.  He ran into the AV tech in there.  "Hey, Archie."

The AV tech, who was Asian but very fun and laughed at his jokes, looked him over and whistled.  "Well.  Hot date after work?"

"Nope, no clean clothes," he said dryly.  "Have to do laundry today."

Archie laughed and shut his locker. "I've been there myself, Xander.  Did you pick up your check yet?"

"No, not yet. I thought maybe they brought them around."

"Nope.  Go back to the front desk."

"Sure."  He put on his glasses and locked his locker again before heading that way, grinning at the very nice receptionist. "Do you have our paychecks?  My pitiful stipend should start this one."  He leaned on the desk while she looked.  "Harris."  She handed over an envelope and he grinned.  "Thank you, dear.  You have a nice night."

"You too, and Grissom is looking for you."

"Am I in trouble? Or was it just a general checking in to make sure I'm still alive?"

"I think the second.  He didn't look upset when he gave me that message."  She handed him another one as well.  "There you go."

"Thanks, dear."  He headed back toward Grissom's office, leaning in there after opening the door.  "You yelleth'd?"

"I did.  We have to do a first month evaluation."  Xander came in and sat across from him.  "How are you liking the lab?"

"I like it a lot.  Bobby checks on me about every tenth sample to make sure I'm not going wrong somehow.  He manages to do it without making me feel like an idiot or like he's sneaking behind my back to make sure I'm not an idiot."  Grissom smiled and nodded at that.  "I still like the work and it's not like it's too hard.  Even the days when you bring us thousands of bullets, it's not that hard.  Those are the days when I go back to the picture system however."

"I understand," he agreed.  "I saw that and it's helpful. It was also nice that you switched to normal paper and black and white for printing.  Thank you."

"Not an issue.  I know how expensive this stuff can be."

"Good.   Very good.  Xander, why did a young woman say your name on her call to 911 before she jumped to her death?"

Xander's mouth opened, then shut and he frowned.  "Who?  I don't know that many people here and almost no one knows I'm here.  My last ex is still hopefully in a psych ward."

"She is, I checked that first," Brass offered as he came in.  He handed over the photograph of the waitress.  "She jumped.  Her boyfriend said she jumped."

Xander looked at it, then up at him.  "She was pregnant."

"She was?" Grissom asked.  "I saw her the other day and she didn't look like she was showing."

"Some people don't show," Xander reminded him.  He shrugged.  "Could it be hormone related maybe?"  He stood up and stretched.  "As for why she called my name?  There's a small problem with what I used to do and she knew about that.  Her boyfriend has run against a few of my former friends in the past and we had a talk about how I'm here *peacefully* and I wished her the best of luck with the pregnancy.  I didn't think she was that far along yet."  He frowned again.  "I'm going to guess that the pregnancy probably wasn't normal, or that something was wrong.  She didn't seem to be too upset when Greg and I saw her yesterday."

"Did you leave when Greg did?" Brass asked.

"No I stayed to finish my breakfast and have some more milk because I don't have any food at the house.  Greg left while I went to check on someone I thought I knew.  Who wasn't who I thought," he offered, still frowning.  "I have no idea why she said my name.  Unless I was her biggest tip that day.  I tipped her five bucks.  I was pretty nice to her.  I respect waitresses."  He shrugged.  "Not a clue otherwise.  What did she say about me?"

"That guy, Xander, will save me," Brass read.  "It was in the background just before she hung up."

Xander grimaced, his face contorting while he thought.  "Maybe she thought I'd help her get away from her boyfriend."  He shrugged.  "I told her I was an intern and she knew where Greg worked."

"She's seen the whole unit a few times," Grissom told him.  "She knew that about all of us."

"Nick's my choice for white knight," Brass offered dryly.

Xander shook his head.  "Not really.  I have a reputation in many places as one for my ability to jump in and solve things."  He shook his head.  "Not a clue otherwise.  I never met her before yesterday. I'm guessing it had something to do with the baby."

"Fine," Brass agreed.  "I want you where I can find you, kid."

"Sure.  Need my home address?"

"Please."  Xander took a notepad and wrote it out, handing it over.  "Thank you," he said, looking at it.  "Readable even."

"I try now and then," he said dryly.  "Am I in trouble?"

"No, but we need to figure out why," Grissom reminded him.

"Hey, I'd like to know why too," he offered. "Man, I didn't even brag about what I used to do," he complained.

Brass looked at Grissom, who left them alone.  "Okay, kid, what the hell is in your past that you didn't admit to?"

Xander stopped moving for a second, took a deeper than average breath, and looked at him.  "I can tell you and you won't believe me.  I can show you and you might go on a drinking binge, or you can have nightmares.  Your choice, detective."

"How do you know I used to drink?"

"I didn't but that's the common reaction I seem to find." He rolled up a sleeve.  "What would you say that is?" he asked, pointing at the scar.

Brass looked.  "Teeth marks.  Human?"

"The ones below it?"

"Looks like canine bite."

"Same person," Xander said, rolling down his sleeves.  "Without prosthetics and no, those are fangs.  Well, were fangs."

"Fangs?" he asked, looking confused.  "Like kids playing dress up as vampires?"

Xander snorted and shook his head.  "No dress up needed, but he wasn't that old when he died.  What time is it?" he asked at the amused look.

"About eight. Why?"

"Is it dark yet?"

"Fairly so.  Again, why?"

"Then let's go.  You can bring Grissom if you want, but I can show you as long as you don't kick my ass for giving you nightmares."

"What are we talking about here?"

Xander shook his head and opened the door.  "Come on.  I'll show you since you didn't believe me."  Brass followed him out to his car and they headed for a spot Xander had already staked out when he had come in for his interviews.  "Technically I'm not allowed in there," he said, pointing at the bar.  "I think I can go in there and see if anyone knows anything as long as you're with me.  Do not reach for your gun, it won't do any good."  He got out, taking the keys with him.  "Come on.  You need to know."  Brass followed him, looking very confused.  The bouncers glared at him.  "Someone who was pregnant with a Frolanx demon's kid called my name on her call to 911 before she jumped.  I'm here for information and letting someone know, namely my boss, what the what is.  Get out of the way," he said calmly.  The bouncers didn't move and he sighed, pulling a stake and getting one in the chest.  "I said move," he told the other one.  "She called my name, that invokes me as her protector."  He shifted and Xander walked inside, heading to the bar, his stake back in the holder under his shirt.  "Hey."  The bartender went even more pale.  "A human working in a vamp club?"

"It's a job and I'm dating one," he defended.  "Why are *you* here, Knight?  You said you wanted peace."

"I do and I did even when someone called one me to protect her," he said dryly, sitting down at a suddenly open barstool.  "Frolanx momma-to-be jumped.  Called my name on the 911 tape.  This is my boss, he needs to know the lay of the land."

The bartender looked at the detective, then nodded.  "The waitress?"  Brass looked stunned.  "There's not many mother's who'd carry a Frolanx, detective.  They always die so the child can get out."

"I had forgotten about that," Xander admitted sheepishly.  He looked at Brass.  "He's a normal guy.  You can come closer.  Do not touch my boss," he warned the demon behind Brass.  It ran off.  He looked at the bartender again, then pulled out something and handed it over.  "When I'm needed, truly needed, to deal with something, give me some warning. I still want peace but she involved me."

"I understand, Knight.  What does the detective need?"

"Some information probably.  Proof definitely."

"Yo, Henry," the bartender called, waving someone over.

Xander looked at him.  "I didn't know your kind could be turned," he told the furry being.

"We can but it's not as much fun," he offered with a grin.  "You busy later?"

"Kinda, I'm on the clock at work, but someone invoked my protection.  This is my boss.  Can you kinda go grr for him?"

"Sure."  He vamped out and Brass moved, quickly, hand on his gun.  "Won't help you, sweetness, bullets don't kill us."  He went back to his normal face and danced off, taking his free drink as a reward.

"Like I said, fang marks," Xander said with a small smirk for him.  "Welcome to my life, Captain Brass."

He shuddered.  "You knew about this?"

"Not that Frolanx mothers always died.  It makes sense though.  They nestle in the intestines and then have to make their own opening out.  They don't go through labor."

"From what little I've heard, it was her time and she jumped.  He didn't tell her how it was getting out and I'm guessing that's why she made the call for help, before the baby took her over," the bartender offered.  "I can check to make sure."

"Please," Xander agreed.  "If her boyfriend gives you shit about it, tell him I wanna know."

"Sure thing, Knight.  Do we have bouncers?"

"One fewer."  He grinned. "I was restrained, he wouldn't get out of my way.  You guys know I'm not comin' in here for any reason short of an apocalypse or information."

"Thank you, Knight.  How long are you in town for?"

"That depends on whether or not my boss kicks me out of my internship."  He looked over as Nick and Greg walked in.  "They're my coworkers," he said dryly.  "Treat them nicely."

"The younger one's cute," he offered with a smirk for Greg as he came over.  "You turned, honey?"

"No," he said carefully.  "Nor do I want to."  He looked at Xander.  "You're who?"

"I'm the White Knight of Sunnydale and LA," he offered gently.  "Retired."

"Oh, good," Brass told him.  "So you did what?"

"Hunted," Xander and Greg said in unison.

He looked at Greg.  "How?"

"I dated this really nice girl named Faith there for a few weeks.  Kinky in the extreme."

"I knew her before she went bad," Xander sighed.  "Way back when I was in high school."  Greg nodded at that.  "Now you know why you should always do a background check of anyone who I'm dating."  Greg nodded harder, smirking more.  "The waitress died.  She invoked my protection on the 911 tape."

"Gris told us," he offered.  "Come on.  We'll go see the boyfriend."

"Sure," Brass agreed quickly, following them back to the kid's car.  "So, was this legal hunting?" he asked once Xander had them on their way.

"No but it saved lives.  See, in my former town, the guys like in that bar are...were driven to blood lust and stupidity.  Sunnydale had a thirty percent mortality rate yearly until my tenth grade year.  Then it dropped to twelve."

"That's still pretty high."

"Yeah, well, when you're drained dry by something and then used as a food source by others, it happens," he quipped. "We liked to save the world a lot and we hunted those things because it was necessary.  Then our town got sucked into hell as it was closing and I went to LA, where my reputation got overblown by someone who was very scared of me after I protected a girlfriend from them.  Then I went to UCLA with slaying on the side and retired the day I graduated."

"That classified military file?" he asked weakly.

"They came in to experiment on the town's demon population.  My group got upset and kicked their asses, destroying them and their made creature that was supposedly going to be the next super robot warrior."

"Oh, good," he said, sounding even more weak.  "That was real?"

"Yup, was," Xander said dryly.  "Like I said, most people go on a drinking binge for at least a day.  Some manage to convince themselves that it's not real.  Some don't."  He shrugged.  "You'll have nightmares.  We found the over-the-counter stuff works very well for this set you'll have.  Not too heavy and won't make it a habit right off, even if you need it for a week. I'm wondering how Greg really knew and if he knew I was me."

"You'd have to ask him that, kid.  Greg's mind is a bit off, like yours is," Brass offered.

Xander shot him a grin when he stopped for a red light.  "Love you too, detective.  Do you know how fun it is to steal military weapons to go fight stupid creatures who want to kill you?" he quipped.  He moved on once he saw the light was green, heading to where he knew the big guy lived.  He parked in front of the Tahoe and got out, heading after Greg.  The butler or whoever was answering the door went pale. "She invoked me when she called it in.  Let them in."

"Fine," he agreed, getting out of the way.  "Welcome to my house."  He looked at Xander.  "You wanted what?"

"Peace, but I got invoked.  I got invoked on a 911 tape.  I work with a CSI unit.  Think about that for a minute," he said dryly.  The demon shuddered.  "Baby?"

"This way, Knight," he offered quietly, leading him up the stairs.  He pointed at the little purple baby in the bassinet.  "There you go."

"Thank you."  He snuck over, moving the blankets a little bit.  "Ooh, you're adorable," he cooed, touching his chin.  "Yes you are, you're an adorable little demon. I'm sure your daddy is so proud and that your mommy is watching over you, yes she is," he cooed, looking at the ghostly form he could see.  "You invoked me," he said dryly.

"Sorry," she hissed.  "Wasn't planned. I panicked."

"I understand.  Fortunately I could take someone to show them proof.  He's adorable."  She smiled and nodded, hovering next to him.  "Just don't possess me," he said dryly when he felt her touch his back.

"I won't," she offered, moving off.

Xander looked at the father, who had been the one answering the door he guessed.  "My blessings on the child for his health, mental stability, and welfare."  The father beamed at him.  "Now you get to tell Captain Brass why she invoked me."

"Of course, Knight.  Thank you for not trying to kill him or me."

"I only hunt those who hurt others.  Remember that," he said dryly, staring him down.  "I don't wanna be upset with anyone and the bartender at Out of Focus has my new number."

"Very well.  If we need you, we'll call.  Only for the big things."

"Thanks.  I like being retired."  He grinned at Greg.  "Come see, he's an adorable baby."

Greg came over and sighed, grinning at it.  "You are very cute," he offered, patting him on the tummy.  The baby belched and made Greg chuckle.  "You're adorable."

"Thank you, officer."

"I'm a CSI," Greg told him.  "I dated Faith for a while."

"Ah. That explains that.  Are you a hunter?"  Greg shook his head.  "Then I respect your decision.  Thank you."

"Welcome.  So, what happened?"

"Our children do not come out like human ones do.  These have to come out on their own and usually end up killing the mother.  After she jumped, the baby made its way out of her stomach.  I'm sorry she caused so much trouble.  She panicked badly. I hadn't told her up to that point how the baby came out."

"I'd probably not tell them that either," Brass admitted.  He sounded normal but his face was still a bit expressionless.  "That's all this was?  A bad birth?"

"Yes, detective," he said respectably.  "I adored her.  I despaired for weeks when I found out I had accidentally forgotten the anti-conception spells and rites for that month.  I wanted to keep her for many more years.  I never wanted her to be hurt or die."

"I'm clueless here," Nick offered hesitantly.

"No, usually you find very good clues," Xander quipped, grinning at him.  "Just forget about it, Nick. Let it be Greg's scene and you're watching over his shoulder.  It was a jump but the baby made her do it because it wasn't coming out any other way."

"I can't do that, it's not right," Nick complained.

"We'll work on these reports together," Greg assured him.  "Where did she jump from?"  The demon pointed at an open window so he drug Nick that way, talking quietly to him, explaining what was going on.

"How do you know?"

"I dated someone else who hunted, who also knew Xander," Greg said quietly. "Xander, does Gris know about this?"

"I can't put demon slaying on a resume, Greg.  That's one of those things that would make someone on high put me on disability for life and give me pretty drugs."

"I think I want a few of those myself," Brass admitted dryly, glaring at the boy.  "Now I know, you're going to be called out now and then."

"Can I disarm bombs?  Please," he begged with a bright, goofy grin.  "I do them very well.  I'm not the fastest ever but I'm pretty good.  I've even been studying online."

"We'll see," Brass offered.  "I'll have a word with someone in SWAT.  Where's your weapons stash?"

"Mostly in LA.  I wasn't about to take artillery across state lines and have to have this talk with a Fed. They don't like me.  I have the feeling that one of them got into that sealed file and it said something like 'helped take down a pilot program that included mental reprogramming and behavior modification - not dangerous to humans but do not touch'."

"Does it?" the demon asked.

"Yeah, but in official-speak," Xander said bitterly.  "They thought I was just a goofy tag- along helper too," he said dryly, smirking at the demon.

"Well, the Initiative were military," he offered in return.  "Not a clue among them, Knight.  Did your slayer really date one of them?"

"She was at the stage where she was dreaming about the wedding and babies."

"Oooooh," he winced, shaking his head.  "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, but this was Buffy, dude.  She was like that with her dangerous guys.  It was better than when Rosenburg charmed her into nearly marrying Spike."

The demon burst out in giggles, ending up rolling around on the floor laughing.  "I want to see that!" he howled.  "Oh, Dark Lord, please!"

Xander smirked at Brass and gave him a little wink.  "My former life was hardly ever dull."

"I can tell.  You're going to have to tell Grissom about this, you know that right?"

"No, not really.  Must I shock and explode his world with this new information?"

"Probably," Nick called.  "He'll bug you until you do.  No pun intended."

Xander looked back at him.  "Nick, I don't do that anymore.  I'm retired.  Unless it's a world-ending emergency, or someone attacks me, it's not pertinent to anything in my current life or line of work.  Though I did learn a lot about guns and crossbows due to the job."  He looked at the demon.  "So we're cool?"

"We are, Knight, I will gladly work with the Faith-scented one.  It was not a murder and I can help him with that."

"Thanks," Brass offered, grabbing Xander by the arm.  "He is a cute kid.  Congrats."  He walked Xander back to his car.  "Yes, *you* have to explain this to Grissom.  And possibly the doc when he can't find out where she had the kid."

"That's easy.  I can find it and clamp it.  I'm still not supposed to be showing off or letting everyone in the free world know about these things.  It's like my secret identity."

"I can understand that and Greg will make Nick see that, but you still have to explain this to Grissom.  He'll keep on you until he knows and he won't be one who'll believe you just telling him."

"That's fine.  I call down to the bar later and warn them that Greg's bringing him in.  I don't wanna cause another panic."  He jingled his keys.  "Shall we?"

"We should," he agreed.  "The longer we wait, the worse it'll be."

"As always."  He got in to drive, heading back to the station.  Warrick was outside drinking some coffee, waiting on them.  "Grissom?"

"His office.  With Ecklie.  Again."

"Shit," Xander muttered.  "Where am I needed?"

"In the office with Ecklie," Warrick said dryly.  "What's going on?"

"In my former youth and stupidity I jumped into an urban warfare situation now and then.  Something from that just came back to haunt me."

"You, a ganger?"

"Hell no," Xander snorted, shaking his head as he walked.  "Not even close, man."  He walked into the lab first, getting his soda he had put in the fridge.  "Yes, I know what happened, no I can't talk about it, it's part of my former life," he told Bobby.  "It's nothing bad, but odd.  Greg knows.  Brass knows.  I'm off to see Grissom."

"Hit the autopsy lab first," Bobby ordered, looking at him.  "How odd?"

"Once upon a time I had to jump into an urban warfare situation."

"Oooh," he winced. "Understood.  Go talk to the doc first.  Then see Grissom, he said so."

"Sure.  Be right back," he quipped dryly, heading in that way.  He stuck his head in.  "Yeah, doc?"

"She wasn't pregnant, kid."

Xander walked in and put his soda carefully out of the way, then grabbed a set of clamps and looked in the hole, clamping something.  "Yeah, she was.  That's its exit hole."  He grabbed his soda, looking at him.  "I used to deal in the strange and unusual in an urban combat situation.  This ain't nothin'."  He shrugged and walked off, heading to the office.  He knocked and stuck his head in.  "I showed the doc, I'm back, Brass is safe, the guy who just lost his girl and gained a baby is cooperating with Greg, and I'm okay too."

"Get in here," Grissom said calmly.  "Close the door," he said when Xander hadn't.  "What's going on?" he asked once it was shut. "Fully."

Xander looked at him, then at Ecklie. "With all due respect, Director Ecklie, while it is in my power to admit to this, I'm not going to tell you.  I will tell my supervisor, Grissom, and I have told Brass.  They can write out the pretty reports."  Ecklie opened his mouth.  "I have a sealed military record," he said coolly.  "It pertains to that.  Do you really want them to visit *you* in the middle of the night?"  He shuddered and left after glaring at Grissom.  Then he locked the door and shrugged.  "I don't like him," he said quietly.  "It's within my power to tell you, show you, or let you forget about it."

"Tell me first.  I like proof but tell me first, Mr. Harris."

"My name is Xander Harris.  I'm also known as the White Knight of Sunnydale and later of LA.  I jumped in to help someone who dealt with paranormal situations when I was in tenth grade.  All those nasty things you used to be afraid of as a kid?  They're real and we hunted them," he finished.  "The demon who invoked my protection panicked.  She was pregnant, and with their kind, they can only come out one way.  They don't carry like normal humans in this case, they carry in the intestines.  That hole on her stomach was an exit hole.  I found the placenta for the ME so he could verify it however he wanted.  I'm not dangerous, anymore.  I retired the day I graduated. Unless the world is gonna end, to them I'm not here anymore."

"Okay.  You said you had proof?  That's a bit too extreme for me to wrap my mind around."

Xander untucked his shirt and took it off, letting him see the scars on his arms and chest.  "Yeah, I kinda do," he offered.  "A few claws, a few nibbles. A stab wound to the gut," he said, pointing at that scar.  "Greg knows where the local vampire bar is, and I've warned them he might be bringing you in tonight to show you more proof.  I've already caused a panic tonight and I'm not in the mood to cause more."  He looked at his boss as he stared at the marks.  "Needed to see any closer?"

"Those are bite marks."

"Yeah, they are.  My last girlfriend was using me as a food source.  She thought she was a vampire.  She found me hunting at a bar, tracking something that had recently attacked some kids."  He moved closer, letting him see them in the glow from his desk light.  "Now you know."

"I do," he admitted, looking at him.  "That sealed record?"

"The Initiative was a military project to use demons as foot soldiers.  It was basically a fun exercise in how to pull things apart painfully and how to cripple and maim effectively for the demons they targeted.  We kicked their asses, sir, and made them cry all the way back to the Pentagon.  They really don't like me and most Feds don't either."

Grissom watched as he put back on his shirt.  "You're carrying a stake."

"I grabbed it on the way into the bar.  I thought it might come in handy."

"Oh."  He sighed and looked at him.  "You should have put this on your application."

"As I told Nick and Greg, Grissom, I can't really put demon slaying on a resume.  Someone would see it and want me on pretty drugs and disability."

"Point," he admitted.  He stared at him.  "Your gun knowledge?"

"From that source," he agreed.  "It was an urban warfare situation and I did what I felt I had to do.  I'm not really sorry for most of it, but I do have some nightmares."

"Fine," Grissom agreed, waving a hand.  "What do you want me to tell Ecklie?"

"Do I care?" he snorted.  Grissom gave him a look.  "Tell him I got pulled into an urban combat situation and that I have a certain reputation from that.  The waitress heard about me when she met me and was in a panic so she invoked my protection by accident.  It'll probably mesh well with the reports, unless Nick talks about the new purple little baby with five arms."

"How does Greg know?"

"He briefly dated another hunter named Faith," he said dryly.  "She told him some but not all.  She did tell him about me but he hadn't made the connection."

"Fine.  Go back to work.  I'm assuming you told Bobby something?"  He nodded. "Fine.  Watch out for Ecklie and Hodges until I can explain this to Ecklie."

"I doubt Hodges'll make a big deal over me having to defend others.  If he does, well, maybe I'll go workout with the self-defense lessons."  He shrugged and went back to his lab, stopping in to look at Hodges.  "Someone thought you might have something to say about someone trying to get me to protect them?  If so, wanna go workout on the self- defense course?"

"No thanks," he offered, looking at him.  "What's going on?  All I heard was that you were a suspect in a homicide."

"She jumped and no, she wanted me to protect her.  She was in a bit of a panic."  He shrugged.  "In my youth I had to partake of some urban combat and some people remember that.  Some fondly and some not."

"Oh. That's all?  A former gang?"

"Not a gang, it would've been much easier if it were.  But basically," he finished with a grin.  "So, wanna be my workout buddy?"

"No," he snorted.  "Not my thing."

"Sure.  Gonna go back to work now.  Need help?"

"I'm good, Xander."

"Sure."  He headed into the ballistics lab and grinned at him.  "I'm back."

"Harris!" Ecklie yelled.

He stuck his head out the door.  "Talk to Grissom, sir," he called back.  He saw the Federal Agent shaped person and groaned.  "What?  It's not like I went around bragging, dude."

"We want you to come work for us," he said plainly.  "Your records are great."

"Dude, there's a sealed military file in my records.  Did you look at that?"  He shook his head.  "You should.  I'm listed as do not touch."  The agent gaped.  "I'm from Sunnydale.  If you have a clue, you'll know why."

"Oh, shit," he muttered.  "I heard about some sort of special program."

"That I and my friends canceled for you to stop the torture," he finished dryly for the agent.  "So yeah, I'm kinda listed as do not touch and I don't wanna be touched really.  We okay?"

"Fine, Mr.  Harris.  Thank you for your honesty.  Will you be staying here?"

"No, I'm looking for a smaller department, somewhere I can retire to and make safe in case I ever have kids."

"That's fine, sir.  Thank you."

"Welcome.  Have a nice night, Agent."  He pulled back in and shut the door, giving Bobby a look.  "Did you get that?" he asked quietly.  Bobby nodded.  "Wow.  I feel special."  He shook his head and got back to work, letting Brass, Grissom, and Greg deal with the spin for now.  He would be told if he were needed.

****

Grissom tapped on Xander's door the next day, giving him an odd look since he was in his boxer shorts and nothing else.  "Doing laundry finally?"

"Getting to the sorting," Xander admitted, letting him inside.  "Am I in trouble?"

"No. I told Ecklie I knew about the military file and you had given me enough to know you weren't dangerous.  He didn't really want to know beyond the fact that the agent told him you were correct, you're listed as 'do not touch'."  He looked at his young intern.  "So, I'm guessing this counts like military service."

"Not really.  Most militaries don't fight with stakes, crossbows, and swords now and then," he quipped, grinning at him.  "Then again, now and then we did get real weapons.  We looted the military a few times."  He nodded at the kitchen.  "You can get something to drink if you want.  I'll go find something to put on."  He headed into the bedroom area, coming out a few minutes later in pajama bottoms. He found Grissom looking at his coffee shelf.  "Sorry, old habits and all that," he said dryly, grabbing his favorite and starting a small pot for them.  Once it was perking along, he looked at his boss.  "I'm out of that life, Grissom, I promise.  Unless there's a true emergency, they're not gonna come near me.  I may not get much warning if it's one of those situations but I'm not young enough to hunt nightly anymore."

"I wasn't worried.  Will you get some warning?"

"Now and then.  Every once in a while it may be something like 'so-and-so conjured this demon, ain't it great and neat, and oh, look, it just ate a hotel'," he offered with a small grin.  "Those I probably won't get any warning on."

"Not an issue, Xander. I came so we could finish that evaluation," he said dryly, pulling out the form.  "Here, fill this out?"

"Sure."  He handed over the finished pot once he had taken out the grounds and settled in with his own cup to fill out the important form that would get him his next job.   He got done, having to answer one on the back, then handed it over. "Need milk or sugar?"

"No, this is good.  Greg brings in Blue Hawaiian."  He took a long drink.  "He uses a drip."

"I used to use a French Press but I cracked my last one," he explained, taking a sip.  "That's a bit stronger than I usually make, unless I'm pulling a study session."  He got himself some milk and poured a dab in, then put it away.  "Okay, next is the interview portion of our supposed talent contest?" he asked with a grin.  "Because we all know beauty contests are just so wrong when you're being paraded around in a bikini."

Grissom shook his head.  "You sound so much like Greg some days, Xander," he noted patiently.  "Let's do that next.  You can get comfortable if you want."

"Nah, I'd hate to flash you, boss.  I'm not usually that kinky.  I'm a doer, not a flasher."  Grissom let out a small chuckle at that and Xander led the way into his living room, but then had to get up to answer the door.  "Hey," he said, grinning at Greg.  "We're doing my interview for my first month eval.  Want some coffee?"

"Sure, I like good coffee," he admitted, walking inside and toward the kitchen he could see.  "Hey, Grissom."

"Is there a problem, Greg?"

"I was going to show Xander around the town if he wanted since we're both off today."

"Actually, most people think I'm a little off most of the time," Xander quipped, grinning at him.  "Milk's in the fridge.  I made it a bit stronger, like study strong."  He flopped onto the couch, arms behind his head, ankles crossed.  "Shoot me, boss, I'm a man, I can handle it."

Grissom gave him a long stare. "I'd never shoot you, Xander.  But handcuffs could come into play if you don't quit bouncing in Hodges's lab.  You upset him horribly when you used the whiteout this time."

"Sorry.  We ran out and I couldn't find any.  I'll replace his.  Just plain white?"

"Please.  No pink or anything."  He looked back at Greg, then at Xander again.  "We can do this tonight."

"With my luck, there'll be a mass shootout at a casino, and the cameras will be inconclusive."

"I so hope not," Greg said from the kitchen.  "Xander, why don't you have food in your apartment?"

"Haven't gone shopping yet. I was going to do that while I did laundry."  He looked over at him.  "Besides, it's not like I *cook*, Greg.  I'm good enough to boil stuff and fry stuff."

"That needs to change," Greg told him.  "Otherwise you'll get sick.  How did you do it in college?"

"I took the meal plan and took it home with me," he said dryly.  "That and Wolfram and Hart had a caff in the building for the other times and since I did security work...."  He smirked.  "It got real old real fast but it was survivable."

"You did security work?" Grissom asked.  "That's not on your application either."

Xander looked at him.  "It wasn't really *security* work, it was more like jack-of-all- trades when needed and defending the building when needed.  I did list them as an employer and under job title I put 'yes' and left it there."  Greg snickered at that, shaking his head as he sipped his cup of coffee.  He looked at it, then at Xander.  "I like it, get used to it."

"It's not too bad.  Perked?"

"Yeah.  I broke my french press."  He laid back down.  "I figured someone would ask about that some day.  No one seems to have caught it yet."

"What else did you do?"

"Plumbing, putting back up walls when they got knocked down by something, fixing the elevator a few times, painting, moving furniture, disarming the occasional bomb or device with biological chemicals attached, picking on the vampires, making my coworkers go mad now and then when they needed it.  Little things mostly."  He sat up to finish his coffee, then laid back down again.  "I was more than willing to explain it when asked but I didn't really have *a* job title."

"So I can tell."  Grissom shook his head. "All right.  How has your lab work been going?  I know Bobby said you don't ask many questions."

"Ballistics is pretty muchly an 'ABC' field.  A, you've got the gun manuals.  B, you've got bullets you can match to specific rifling patterns from the gun manual.  C, you get the small amounts of technology, like pin impressions and the databases.  Mostly you match, you collate, you do some occasional searching and filing.  It's not that hard of a field.  Fingerprinting is harder and it took me a while to get the hang in that class for my trace minor.  Trace was why I had so many stupid science classes that confused me.  Chem one was horrible.  I couldn't even get it with a tutor, had to take it twice, and the teacher sneered at me the whole time.  I almost told her I wanted to go into DNA to see her spit acid, but the others told her I was a gun guy.  I did manage to pull a decent grade the second time and then move on, fortunately away from her.  She had to leave," he said with a small smirk.  "She kept falling down and eating pavement.  That's when I found out how the chemistry labs were used to make PCP and acid."  Greg choked on that.  "It was her class's field project apparently.  She was testing it."

"I heard about that."  Grissom shifted.  "How did you get past it?"

"I figured out a way to translate it to a different subject I did understand.  Plus, my second tutor was working on a higher level of chemistry, and he related it back to gunpowder a lot."  He scratched his bare stomach.  "I passed and the others were much easier."

"It's not the hardest subject," Greg offered.  "Calc four was impossible for me."

"I only had to take Calc one," Xander gloated.  "And the teacher told me that if he saw me trying to sign up for two he'd tie me to the chalkboard and whip me bloodless.  We had a lot of engineering students and I kept moving it back to carpentry and buildings for them.  He was more a strings on a guitar and distant stars sort.  We did not get on well."

"I can imagine," Greg quipped, coming out to join them.  "Mine was all buildings and tension and things but I didn't get that so I struggled there until mine got into other fields.  How are you in robotics?"

"I took Robotics one and two," Xander admitted with a grin for his fellow geek.  "The teacher wasn't quite sure why, but he didn't protest too much.  I also took drafting as an easy elective to raise my GPA.  The teacher was amused when I created a round building that he said was impossible until I brought in detailed plans for one I'd seen close to my design online, but I had added some new elements.  I got an A for it and my Trace mentor said it was a cute work of art."  He looked at Grissom again.  "Sorry to ignore you."

"No, that's all right.  We were all deeply affected by our college years.  That's why I kept going back," he offered with a grin.  "Any ideas about advanced degrees, Xander?"

"Hell no," he said dryly and firmly.  "No more homework.  No more hundred and eighty dollar books, no more all night sleeping in the library because I just got done doing other stuff.  I'll keep up, I'll do continuing education, but no more degrees.  That's another bonus of looking at smaller departments.  It's not a mandatory."

"That's usually true, but there's also more people looking for departments like that," Grissom warned.

"Not really.  Not with my qualifications and my background in weapons," he said smugly.  "Plus, ya know, two for one deal with me and my minor."  He grinned at him then at Greg.  "So, how is the Blond Snape today?"

Greg choked.  "That so fits him," he gasped, coughing a bit.

"Who?" Grissom asked.

"Hodges," Greg gasped, shaking his head.  "He does act a lot like Snape."  He looked at Xander.  "You call him that to his face yet?"

"Yeah," Xander agreed smugly.  "He burst out in laughs and said it was probably appropriate and he would be that picky in his lab as well.  Though I could not brew potions in there."

"I still don't get it," Grissom said.

"One of the teachers from the Harry Potter books, Gris," Greg said, snickering now.  "Oh, I'm so going to tease him tonight."

"He's off tonight.  He had a doctor's appointment," Xander told him.  "Am I filling in for him tonight?"

"It's possible, or Nick can," Grissom offered.

"I don't mind," Xander said with a small shrug.  "That's why I took the minor and I might as well keep in practice.  This way I don't have to do a second internship."

"I'm surprised you didn't stay in LA. You'd have a lot more ballistics cases there and with more varied weapons," Grissom noted.

"No, I hate LA.  LA hates me and I hate that city.  All the people I worked with hated me for the most part.  I don't want to ever go back there.  I don't want to see it mentioned on TV.  The same as if certain people show up you'll see me doing my impersonation of a groundhog and ducking back into a deep hole at the sight of their shadows."  He suddenly had a bad feeling and groaned.  "Having said that, someone will probably be showing up soon.  If so, expect me to hide."

Grissom smirked at that.  "You'd hide?"

"Well, I'd try," he offered.  He shifted so he could stretch his back.  "So, boss, how am I doing now that my first month is over with?"

"You're doing well, Xander.  You do very well in ballistics and Bobby's reports are nothing but glowing so far.  Hodges had done a few on you as well and he was more cautious, but in his usual manner."

"So he got high praise in Hodges-lingo?" Greg taunted.

"Basically," Grissom agreed, standing up.  "One last question.  Do you want more hours in trace?"

"I probably should," he admitted.  "I've also been bugging Archie to see if I could learn off him.  I don't program worth a damn, even after my first few classes in it, but I am learning by watching him be brilliant.  Oh, I still need to get my demolitions license transferred over.  Who do I do that with?"  His phone rang and he grabbed it. "Yeah?"  He sat up.  "Captain Brass?  Is it a really big emergency or just an odd thing again?"  He grimaced, looking down at himself.  "Yeah, that' fine.  Let me toss on a shirt and shoes.  I'm in pajama bottoms so a t-shirt should be okay, right?  Sure, ten minutes."  He hung up and stood up.  "Hate to break up this party but there's a bomb and no one can find the usual guy.  I'm having a prophetic day."  He headed into the bedroom, pulling on the t-shirt he had been planning on wearing to the laundromat, then his sneakers.  He grabbed his keys, wallet, and pass on the way out, making it down to the street in time to see the cop car turn the corner.  "Hey, Greg, lock up for me," he called back, getting in when it stopped. "Hey, Brass sent you after me?"

"Yes, sir."  He sped off, lights and sirens going.  "Are you a member of SWAT?"

"No, I'm the new ballistics intern but I've got a demolitions license and a lot of experience," he admitted.  "Plus most of the manuals at the house."   They found the spot and he      hopped out, clipping his badge to the bottom of his t-shirt and tucking his wallet and keys into his single back pocket.  He walked forward, going to look at the monitor.  "That's nasty and dual layered at least," he said, frowning.  "Who's that guy?  The actual bomb tech?"

"No, he's on vacation and we can't find the other guy," Brass admitted, walking over to him.  "For obvious reasons, you'll be giving instructions."

"Sure.  I'm not the fastest but I do know what I'm doing."  He accepted the headset.  "Can you hear me, officer?"

"Yes, sir," he offered over the speaker.  "There's three minutes left."

"Crap.  Okay.  First, point the camera at the area just above and beside the display, I need to see the wires."  It was done.  "Good.  Clip the blue one leading from the battery, then the red one immediately after that.  You've got about ten seconds."  He did so and the timer stopped.  "Good.  Remove the plug from the bubble-gum colored mass.  That can make it spark off.  Yes, that one.  Good.  Got a screwdriver?"

"Yes, sir.  We had to strip it down to here."

"Wonderful.  Take off the display but turn it over *carefully* first.  I'm pretty sure this one has redundant explosives."  The guy did so.  "See that silver screw?  Loosen it slightly, then take off the display.  They're connected."  The guy did so, taking it halfway out then taking off the display.  That screw had been holding it from the back.  "Good job, officer.  Now, what's the display read on that gas canister?"

"Um, ten minutes."

"Even better."  He handed off the microphone and walked out there, taking the clippers and the bomb, sitting cross-legged on the ground with it.  "Okay, this is a multi-layer bomb," he instructed calmly.  "So if you get one to stop, the second one probably won't be because you don't expect it.  Screwdriver?"  It was handed over and Xander dismantled the gas canister.  "See, if it had went off, you'd have exploded this anyway, but it's got a secondary timer and a third set of explosives as well," he offered, finding that.  He tossed the gas canister aside and carefully moved down to the last level.  "TNT?  How cheesy are these idiots?" he muttered, pulling out the blasting cap and then the two sticks, cutting off the fuses and removing the wires stuck in the bottom.  He heard a click and winced, sighing.  He tossed over the dynamite and flipped it over, undoing that back panel.  He found a small blob of plastique and pulled it off, tossing it before the counter got below thirty.  Then he took out the battery and watched the capacitor discharge harmlessly.  He looked at the guy, who was sweating and fidgeting.  "No fidgeting on bombs.  It'll go off in your hands.  This is the only place you won't catch me bouncing," he offered.  He got back to work, dismantling the case, putting everything into separate bags, then inside safe boxes.  When he was done, he got up to gather the little ball of plastique, the two sticks of dynamite, and the gas canister, handing them to Brass.  "Here you go."  He grinned at the SWAT guys.  "The last time I saw one of those, it was the test the LA guys gave me."

"How did you know?" Brass asked, putting everything away.

"The canister was empty.  Most people who created it wouldn't have given that amount of time on the canister either.  Besides, the average mad bomber doesn't think past one backup usually.  There's exceptions but they've got OCD and want the really pretty bang."  He grinned at him.  "I realized I still had to transfer my demo license out here too."

One of the SWAT guys handed him the paperwork he'd need.  "You passed.  Where did you learn that?"

"Construction, necessity, some urban warfare," he offered with a grin.  "Practical experience.  Then I went in for my construction license and the guy thought I was a cop since I had one of my gun manuals with me to have something to read while I waited.  He gave me the full test and the books.  I'm kinda guessing when he figured it out he decided it'd be better to know what I can fully do, just in case."

Brass nodded.  "I can see why.  That was pretty impressive, but not really fast."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the fastest, I'm one of the best," he said smugly.  "Fast is nice but then my hands shake and I don't think.  I miss wires.  I'll never do that again."  Brass gave him a sideways look.  "One of the guys there caught it.  It was during a practice.  He wanted me to do it faster too."  He shrugged and grinned.  "Anything else today? I've got to do laundry, go to the range, and then head in tonight."

"Yeah, that's one thing," Brass offered.  "We need you to qualify on the range, kid.  All CSI's must if there's a chance they could end up in the field."

"Sure.  Any particular weapon?  Assault rifles?  Personal sidearm?  Revolver?  Rocket launcher?  Claymore?  Anti-tank gun?" he asked with a grin.

The SWAT guys around him chuckled and one patted him on the back.  "You're bragging now, kid."

"No, not really.  I've fired off all those and had a lot of fun.  I even got to do some of it for class," he bragged.  "I got to help with the artillery lecture for the ballistic techs.  We used part of my personal stash."  They all stared at him so he grinned.  "It's still back in LA.  I wasn't about to transport across state lines, guys.  I'm not that dumb."  He looked at Brass again.  "When and where?"

"We can go now then I'll take you home," he offered.  "Ecklie's about to jump through federal hoops and he wanted to know.  I got ordered.  Hence the bug I had Greg plant."

"Eh, not a problem, but if I have to come in rewearing clothes, then he's going to not be happy with the t-shirt I'm wearing."  He waved.  "Thanks, guys.  Call me anytime."  He followed Brass to his car and got in, heading back to the station with him.  "Okay, so what was the real reason?" he asked halfway back.

"The Feds wanted to know," he sighed.

"Wonderful.  I'm still not working for them."

"Good.  It'd probably eat you.  They cracked that military file."

"Did they sweat and puke?"

"Yup.  That's why they're scared.  Then Ecklie said you like to let out evil chuckles while working and Bobby said that you're a good guy but a little strange.  They're hoping you don't go psycho."

"Keep my former friends away from me and I'll be the most normal guy in the world, without liking sports," he quipped, leaning against the door.  "You can even point out that I'm good and wonderful, but I don't have the homicidal urges any longer.  I had enough of that in my youth."  They pulled into the station and he got out, waving at the CSI smoking out front.  "Hey.  Range?"  They pointed to the other end of the building.  "Fun.  So, what about my gun?" he asked Brass, following him inside.  He backtracked and saw a short redhead, then shook his head and walked off.  "Sorry, flashback."

"Not an issue.  You can use mine to qualify.  They figure if you're not bragging it won't matter."

"It shouldn't.  How does yours balance?"

"Fairly even.  Slight lean to the left because I do."

"Sure."  He pulled off his badge to wave it at the guy guarding the door to the range, getting admittance.  He accepted the glasses and the earmuffs.  "Technically I should be using my actual glasses," he noted, taking Brass's gun.  He accepted the bullets as well and positioned himself.  "Dead start with it on the shelf, or a draw?"

"Dead start is fine for a CSI," the range monitor noted, pulling out a new sheet.  He found his stopwatch.  "Unload."  Xander did so, even clearing the chamber and popping that bullet back into the clip.  "And go."  Xander reloaded, cocked it and went after the target.  "Hold!" he shouted a minute later.  Ten well placed shots out of a twelve clip.  "Not going for speed?"

"I go for accuracy.  If you want speed, I can do it," he offered.  "I'll need more bullets."  More were handed over and he reloaded the clip, then shook out his hands and centered his mind again.

"Go!"

Xander loaded, cocked, and fired, then calmly reloaded and fired again, getting both clips approximately center mass.  Most of them were in the center but a few were riding the lines and one was a head shot.  He looked back at the guys and grinned.  "Needed more?"

"No, that's fine," he offered.  "You're one of Grissom's guys?"

"I'm Harris, the new Ballistics intern," he said, shaking his hand.  He reloaded and handed the captain back his weapon properly, safety in place.  "I didn't chamber a round, Captain Brass."

"That's fine, kid.  Thank you.  Well done."

"I try," Xander offered with a grin.  He looked at the range guy.  "So, good enough?"

"More than.  I'll send the report up."

"Sure."  He walked out, letting Brass take him home.  He did slow down to look at the redhead again, then went back to check to see who it was.  It wasn't Oz, like he thought, so it was okay.  He walked out shaking his head.  "Thought he was a friend."

"Not a problem.  If your friends show up, I wanna know," he ordered.

"Sure.  I wanna know if they show up," he said dryly.  "They probably won't be looking for me."  Brass gave him a look.  "Slight falling out.  They thought I was helpless, stupid, and a piece of dryer lint.  I differed in that opinion."  He shrugged and got into the car.  "Home again?"

"Sure, kid.  Then what're your plans for the day?"

"Laundry.  I haven't done any in a month."

Brass snickered at that.  "I've had those months too, kid."  He pulled out, taking him home, and on the way back, stopped in to see Grissom at his house.  "SWAT cleared him to help disarm things.  They're filing the paperwork for his explosives license.  Ecklie ordered me to have him qualify on the range and he did.  Both the one minute accuracy, with ten perfect shots, and the speed at two clips.  He passed that one in under two minutes, which qualifies for a rookie cop."  Grissom nodded at that, smirking at him.  "You knew?"

"I called LA to get his scores from there since he did his during-school internship locally.   Ecklie could have just asked."

"That's too easy and you know it, Gil," he taunted dryly, smirking at him.  "He's pretty good.  How is he in Trace?"

"Well enough.  Hodges is still filling in some gaps in his practical education.  They get along well and Xander's always eager to help out him or Archie.  He said he's learning off Archie as well."  He paused at the satisfied smirk.  "What's gotten Ecklie onto him?  This time?"

"One of the Feds who wanted to recruit him looked at that file and thought he was borderline mental.  Apparently they're buddies so he warned Ecklie."

"The guys in LA thought he might be as well but then a later evaluation note said that he's not mentally damaged just emotionally damaged.  I can't see it but we all know that people skills aren't my thing."

"Yeah, the kid said to warn him if his former friends showed up," Brass offered.  "You want me to hand Ecklie a copy of those?"

"Sure.  They're on my desk.  I'll add his new qualifications to his chart later.  How did the bomb test go?"

"They did a multi-layer/backup thing with it.  The guy out there was sweating and shaking.  The kid went out after the first was fixed when he heard he had the time to do so, doing it himself.  He told the kid he couldn't bounce out there but sweating was fine.  Their trainee for bomb tech will probably be going over that tape later today.  He needs it.  The kid did toss the gas canister and the plastique away from where he was working but he noted later that the canister was empty feeling."  He shrugged.  "You'd have to ask them."

"Not very proper with the evidence, but I'm assuming he knew?"

"Yeah, he pointed out that most bombers wouldn't go past the first backup.  That they wanted the, and I quote, the really pretty bang."

"Usually true in my experience," Grissom agreed.  "Thanks, Jim."

"Not a problem.  I like this kid.  He's got some fun left in him but he's not pushy or hung up on things like Nick, but he's smart and hiding it, like Warrick can on occasion.  He wanted to know if the range included artillery or assault weapons."

"It probably wouldn't bother him if there were," Grissom joked.  "He likes his own sort of bang."

"Very true.  He promised to do laundry before he came in or Ecklie would be very upset with his t-shirt tonight."  He waved. "I'd better get back.  Have fun."

"You too.  I hope it's an easy day and remember, Hodges is off tonight and Bobby's got that surgery for his mother next week."

"Sure," he agreed, heading out to collect those new reports and hand them over.  Grissom would get in a 'you could have just asked' when he handed in his old ones later.

***

Xander walked into the station that night, and accepted his badge back.  "Thanks.  Must have fallen off my t-shirt this morning," he sighed, clipping it onto his beltloop.  "Am I in trouble?"

"No, you lost it in here," the receptionist said with a small grin.  "Not have a nice day, Xander?"

"Long day.  Some qualifications, some laundry, some dinner," he said, holding up the takeout bag.  "Now I'm going to work all night so I can nap."  He waved and headed back there, poking his head into the ballistics lab.  "Need me in here or am I temping for Hodges?"

"Temp for him, Xander.  I don't have anything yet."

"Sure.  I'll be next door."  He went to drop his jacket and dinner in there, startling Nick.  "It is my minor and Bobby said to temp in here tonight."

"Sure.  I could use some help.  There's a lot of fibers on this thing and I'm having trouble separating them out."

"Sure.  Let me scrub and glove."  He walked over to the sink to do that, then went back next door to get his special gloves, coming back to grab a pair of tweezers to help.  He started by putting out some open sticky pads off to the side of their work area, then got to work separating out strands of fiber to place them on there.  Anything that looked like hair got stuck into the dish Nick was working with. He found an odd one and held up the hair.  "This one's got a follicle base."

"Here," he said, holding up an envelope.  Xander took the envelope and carefully struggled to put the hair in there, finally getting it after a few tries.  "Need glasses?"

"I have some for delicate work, but that's more lack of depth perception.  That and my desire not to take another six science courses is why I took Trace as my minor," he noted dryly.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Warrick asked from the doorway.

"Eye," Xander corrected.

"Eye?" Nick asked.

"As in I only have one."

"Oh," he said, shaking his head.  "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's been a few years.  The glass is pretty enough for most everyone," he said with a smirk.  "Most people don't realize, it just means I don't have depth perception."  He handed over the envelope.  "Let's hope it went in so it can be easily removed."

"I saw it go in," he promised, checking it.  "Yeah, it went in.  The tag's in there.  I'll go bring this to DNA.  Keep peeling stands please."

"Sure, I live to serve such generous masters," he taunted back, bending down to get back to work.  He ended up pulling a stool over and leaning over the shirt they were working on, getting more unique samples off.  Then he went back to get more of the same types. He looked up when someone grunted in displeasure, grinning at Hodges.  "I thought you had tonight off so I'm temping."

"I do have tonight off, but I forgot something.  That had better not be greasy food on top of my microwave either, Xander."

"It shouldn't be.  It's chicken and I did lay down paper towels.  If there's even a spot of condensation I'll clean it after I finish helping Nick part the fibers."

"Good.  You'd better."  He came in to get something out of his desk then looked at the shirt.  "You're going at it wrong."

"He wanted them separated," he said as he worked on the next one.  "I've isolated unique samples and now I'm adding the others like it to the same sheet.  That way it's easier to compare and contrast in case I'm wrong."

"Interesting.  Why couldn't he just tape it off?"

"Because he said he wanted them separated," he said with a mild shrug.  "Not a clue.  Have to ask Nick."

"Fine."  He watched him work.  "At least you're technically proficient in this area."

"And I qualified on the range and I did my disarming test earlier," he said smugly without looking up.  "In my jammies no less."

Hodges snorted.  "You should have made them give you time to dress."

"You can't always do that," Xander noted.  "I've fought naked in the past, I can do it again if I must."  He glanced up, then got back to work.  "You okay?  You look upset," he offered quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Perfectly fine."

"If you were perfectly fine, you wouldn't be pale and sweaty.  Remember, I'm a good sounding board.  I had two women babbling at me for years before I finally got fed up and walked away."

Hodges looked at him.  "Thanks, Xander."  He walked out, heading back to his car so he could see his doctor.   He'd have to watch that kid, almost no one liked him and he wanted to know why that kid did.

Grissom stuck his head into the lab.  "Did I just see Hodges?"

"He forgot something.  Is Nick coming back for these or should I continue to separate them out?"

"He wanted you to do what?"

"Separate out the mess," he said, glancing up at him.  "He took a hair over to DNA."  He shrugged and got back to work, getting up to put on a hairnet so he wouldn't shed onto the shirt himself.  Then he picked off the hair he had watched fall.  "Mine," he said, noting it down on the form and setting it aside.

"Good job, Xander.  Go ahead and fill in here tonight unless Bobby needs you."  He checked with Bobby, who only grinned, then went to hand Ecklie those prior reports.  "If you had asked, I would have given you the copies I got from LA," he said mildly.  "I asked for them when I decided to keep him."

"Fine.  Is he stable?"

"So far as any one of us can tell.  He gets on well with others and he's working on learning from Archie in AV.  He's temping in for Hodges tonight."

"He's not a Trace person."

"It was his minor," Catherine butted in.  "Xander's in trace?"  He nodded.  "Good.  I've got stuff for him."

"Nick has him separating hair samples from a shirt."

"Eww."  She sighed.  "It's probably the same case."  She walked back there, putting the brown paper bag on the edge of the worktable.  "Hodges let you bring in food?"

"I promised to clean up any condensation my very cold chicken sandwich might cause," he retorted.  "What's that?"

"Blanket."

"Gonna be a while.  Especially if it needs this sort of treatment."

"It might.  It's not quite as bad.  Is that cat fur?"

Xander put a piece under the scope, then shook his head.  "Rabbit or short haired goat."  He went back to picking it off.

"How can you tell without an analysis?"

"Coarseness and length.  I'll run that in a few.  I'll do that once I finish picking off all the hairs."

"Sure.  Page me when you're done, Xander."

"It'll probably be near the end of shift," he warned.

"That's fine.  I'll be up."  She went to find Nick.  "You're having him isolate samples?"

"Yeah, it was a mess when I tried to tape sample it.  Why?"

"Just wondering.  He did say he thought one of them was a rabbit or a goat based on coarseness and length."

"Really?"  He grimaced.  "Where would you find a rabbit or a goat in Vegas?"

"I don't know.  He'll do the formal analysis before moving onto the blanket sample I just brought him."

"That's fine.  He found a hair with a tag.  I'm waiting on DNA."  He watched as Xander came out of the lab, looking confused.  "What's wrong?"

Xander looked at him, then shook his head.  "Do you smell smoke?"

"No."  He walked over to the lab, sniffing inside.  "I do in here.  Did you burn something?"

"No, I haven't turned anything on yet."  He walked back inside, going to check all the equipment.  He also unplugged anything non-essential, but left the computer alone just in case.  Nick was sniffing the vent when Xander got the bad feeling again.  "It's not there.  It's not floating down, it's wafting in."  He sniffed and walked next door.  "Bobby, can you not smell that?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I couldn't find the source in here.  I'm just finishing a report, just in case, before I go hunt it down."

Xander walked out, still sniffing.  "Catherine, we smell smoke in Hodges' and Bobby's labs," he reported formally.  "I checked all the equipment in Hodges' and unplugged everything but the computer and the technical equipment.  Bobby checked his."

"I can't smell it," she told him.

"I can," someone called from Fingerprints, Sarah coming out sniffing. "It's in here too, not in the vents."

"No, it's moving up, not down," he said, frowning a bit.  He looked at her.  "You're the supe."

"Point."  She went to the labs, sniffing at them.  "I can smell it.  Guys, let's check each room," she called.

Xander went to check on Archie, he was the next in line, and it was really strong in here.  "How can you not smell that?" he asked.

"Easy, cold," he offered, sounding stuffed up.  "What's wrong?"

"Smoke.  We smell smoke all along this line of labs."

Archie's eyes went wide and he frantically looked around, backing up the few things he was working on right then.  "It's not in here."

"Sure."  Xander walked out, shaking his head.  "It smells really strongly in there but he's got a cold."

"It's not in the next lab down," Catherine said, considering it.  "Someone page Grissom!"

"Already done, and Ecklie," Bobby yelled back. "Catherine, I can kinda see some smoke too."

"Okay.  It's on this side," Xander said, looking around.  "Do we have an old ventilation system that was floor-based?"  She shook her head.  "That's too low to be coming down.  Do we have a basement?"

"A storage area," Sarah told him. "I go down there sometimes to eat lunch in the quiet."  She headed for the door, opening it.  "Shit!  Smoke!"

Xander looked at Catherine, then at the smoke alarm.  "Yes?"

"No.  We've got to see first."

He looked at the level of smoke.  "Not like that we're not," he said firmly.  "That's dangerous."

"It couldn't be a fire.  We'd have more smoke and heat."

"So?  People die of smoke inhalation."

"Point.  Pull it."  He pulled the switch and everyone started out of the lab, Xander going back to get his lunch and put a protective plastic sheet over the evidence he was working on and the new paper bag.  "You should have done that first."

"I was more worried about the smoke," he complained.  He followed Bobby outside, going to sit and eat his lunch now.  Bobby gave him an odd look.  "I didn't get breakfast."

"Why not?"

"Laundry sucks."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "I can understand that.  Rent a washer."

"I basically live in a better class motel, Bobby.  There's no room for one."

"Fine. Is there one on-site?"  Xander shook his head.  "Why not?"

"Been broken for a year."

"Eeww," Greg noted, sitting down beside him.  "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired.  It was qualification stuff."  He ate another bite and handed over the burger underneath.  "Here, you look like you could eat too."

"I could eat," he admitted.  "Thanks, Xander."

"Welcome."  He finished his sandwich, watching as the fire department pulled up and was told what was going on by Catherine, who led them to the stairwell.  "Well, it's not going to be a boring night."

"No, not tonight," Bobby agreed.  "Did you remember to cover?"

"With a large sheet of protective, thick plastic right after I pulled the lever," he agreed.  "I was more concerned with the smoke at first."

"Good job," Greg praised.  "Hodges is going to be pissed if this messes up his lab."

"It shouldn't.  It smelled the worst in Archie's lab."  Xander wiped off his mouth and handed over the extra napkins to Greg.  "There you go."

"Can I have one?" Archie called.

"Sure," Greg agreed, handing him all but one.  "You okay, man?"

"Cold.  It sucks.  I've taken medicine but it's making my nose run and making me cough."  He blew his nose and tucked the rest of the napkins into his pocket before going off to give a verbal report to Grissom and Ecklie.

"Xander!" Ecklie shouted.

"Yeah?"  He looked back there, getting the 'come here' motion.  "Be right back, hopefully."  He headed that way, looking calm.  "Yes, sir?  Grissom, I did remember to cover the evidence I was working on with plastic once the alarm was going off."

"Good work, Xander.  Did you pull the alarm?"

"After asking Catherine for permission and noting that no one should be going down into that smoke.  That's dangerous."

"Point," Ecklie agreed.  "They found something down there smoldering but not really burning.  Do you know anything about that?"

"I didn't even know we had a basement," he said with a small shrug.  "Sarah told me there was one when I asked.  I do know that the worst smell of smoke was in Archie's lab."

"Why didn't he complain?" Grissom asked.

"He's got a raging cold."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "I've had those."  He looked over as someone came running up toward their group.  "It's not an explosion, Hodges, just a small smoldering case downstairs."

"Minor smell of smoke but barely any made it upstairs," Xander offered.  "Smells the worst in Archie's lab."

"You're sure nothing's hurt?"

"I unplugged everything but the technical equipment and your computer," Xander told him.  "I did it while we were checking to see what was burning."

"Good," Hodges sighed.  "No damage?"

"Not this time," Grissom said, nodding at him and looking pleased.  "I'm glad you're checking, Hodges.  That does impress me."

"Thank you, Grissom."

Xander gave him a light nudge.  "Did you know your mega-scope had a loose plug?"

"No, I hadn't.  We'll check it later," he noted.  "Leave me a note, Xander."

"Sure."  He grinned at him.  "Everything else looked okay.  Not even a ring of sweat from my breakfast."

"Fine.  Just be careful about that in my lab."

"I always am."

"You had food in the lab?" Ecklie demanded.

"No, I had my breakfast in a bag on top of the microwave he had in there since I went directly in there when I got in," Xander retorted calmly.  "It was away from any work surfaces, no way to transfer any material off it since it was ice cold, and properly out of the way of the work path.  I'm not stupid, Ecklie, give me *some* credit," he snorted, walking off, going back to sit and chat with Greg.  "So, you were going to show me around today?" he asked.

"Yeah, I figured you hadn't had a lot of time to sightsee or figure out where things are.  I should start with a grocery store."

"Probably," Xander agreed dryly.  "But that means I'd have to learn how to cook.  I don't think I have time for that yet."

"You can't cook?" Warrick asked as he joined them.

"Not very well.  I can microwave and boil, maybe fry with a frier.  I lived off the caff in school."

"I was at his house today.  He had coffee, soda, chocolate, and Reeces Pieces," Greg said dryly.

"Sorry but my only friends used to be girls," Xander defended.  "They only made brownies and cookies."

Warrick shook his head.  "You'll get sick eating like that."

"Hasn't happened in twenty-six years, why would it start now?" Xander quipped, grinning at him.  "Neither of my parents cooked either.  I didn't even know what a stove was until Home Ec in eighth grade."

"How did you survive without a parent who cooked?" Greg asked.

"Take out.  Sandwiches.  Some minor cans of spaghetti-ohs now and then."  He shrugged.  "Your body learns and adapts beautifully."

"Did no one notice that you didn't eat properly?" Warrick asked.

"No, I got free lunch at school.  It probably would have been noted when I brought in takeout all the time, but no one really cared.  I wasn't starving so it wasn't that much of a problem.  The one time someone got onto my mother they told her to order more Chinese and quit ordering so much pizza."

"At least you'd get vegetables then," Greg said dryly.

"You can put veggies on pizza but I'd hate to see your future kid's trying to eat a burger."

Greg smirked.  "That's right, my kids will be vegetarians and love it."

"Only if you find someone and stay with them," Hodges said meanly as he joined them. "Can't we go in yet? I want to check my lab."

"No one's said anything," Xander offered.  "Go ask Catherine.  She's in charge."  He gave him a long look.  "I didn't mess up your lab, Hodges."

"I still want to check for myself.  We've had other accidents that destroyed stuff," he defended.

"Yeah, well, this time no one ended up being taken away to the hospital," Greg noted bitterly.  "No burns."

Xander gave him a hug.  "It's all right. You're better now."  Greg nodded, giving him a pat so he let him go.  "Sorry, my only friends were girls."

"Usually only gay guys say that," Greg teased, smirking at him.

"I might look at one out of every ten thousand men, but I can't see myself with one forever and ever," he noted dryly.  "Then again, most of the women I like are dangerous and evil so I'm probably going to end up having dogs instead."  Hodges stifled a snicker at that.

"I'll try to set you up with some nice girls who can cook," Warrick offered.

"Sure.  Are you doing the background checks or should I if they like me?"

"I only know normal women."

"Yeah, I thought I did too," he said dryly.  "I thought I had broken my last dry spell but then she turned out to be a serial killer.  I should have known, she was sweet, nice, and only wanted sex.  Just like my former fiance."

"You were engaged?"

"I ended up being shown what our life would have been like and left her at the altar so she could have a better life," Xander told Greg, whose mouth was just now flopping down.  "Can you say demonic?  That was my Anya before she died in the last day of Sunnydale."

"Shit," Greg said in awe.  "You're braver than I am."

"Yeah, but it would have been horrible.  I'd be doing nothing with my life.  She's have been doing nothing with hers.  I'd have a beer gut and be sweaty and nasty.  She'd be morose because she didn't want to be domestic and we weren't rich.  Her friends helped me see what it would have been like.  She probably never forgave them for it.  I know she never forgave me.  She wanted to punish my butt so badly it wasn't funny.  Fortunately her friends stopped her from doing it since it was their fault."  His buddy shook his head and moaned.  "So yeah, and she wasn't that nice beforehand either.  She liked to beat up on guys who cheated on their girls.  Repeatedly.  Used to tell me all the ways she tortured them and how she wanted to torture them.  Then she wanted sex right afterwards."

Warrick shook his head.  "I'll try to find you a nice girl who can at least bake," he promised, walking off to talk to Nick and Catherine since she was coming over.  "We've got to find Xander a girl to date.  He can't cook, eats only takeout most of the time, and says he only dates evil women."

"Evil women?" Catherine asked dryly.

"His last one was a serial killer," Grissom said as he joined them.  "Can we go back in yet?"

"Nope.  They're checking the other boxes down there to see if any others are smoldering.  That one's out back behind the garages so we can open it and see what's going on.  Nick, it was your case so you should."

"Sure, Cat.  Go around?"  She nodded, watching him walk off.  He smiled at the fireman trying to stop him.  "It's my case box that was smoldering. I was told to come open it."

"Fine.  Go around to the back entrance, sir."

"Thanks."

Catherine looked over at Xander.  "How bad have you dated, kid?"

Xander looked at her.  "One serial killer.  One former fiance who liked to beat the snot out of guys who cheated on their girls, then told me about how she tortured them and how she wanted to torture them, right before demanding lots of sex.  The one before that was a snotty cheerleader sort.  The one before that tried to kill me and one of my friends.  The one before that only wanted to have sex and kill me, and so did the one before her."  She and Grissom both gaped.  "So, if we ever find me dating someone, do a background check.  Oh, if there's suddenly an influx of dead redheads and blondes, check on my last ex to make sure she's still safely in her little padded room.  She wanted to punish my former friends a lot."

"Ever think about switching to men?" Warrick taunted but he was smiling at him.

"Yeah, that's when I figured out I could appreciate about one out of every ten thousand but I still couldn't see it as more than a casual relationship.  That's when I decided I'd have dogs."

"We'll see if we can introduce you to nice girls," Catherine offered.

"Who can cook," Warrick promised.  "So you don't go broke on takeout."

"You can't cook?" she asked.  He shook his head.  "Why not?"

"No one in my family cooks.  I didn't even know what a stove was until eighth grade Home Ec," he said dryly.  She gave him a look. "Seriously.  I asked the teacher what that funny appliance that we had six of was.  I thought it was some sort of really old microwave.  My house didn't have one of those.  The fridge was for old takeout, soda, milk, cold coffee, water, and koolaid if I got around to making some for myself. We had a freezer for microwave stuff and a shelf for the rest."

"I'm surprised you're not malnourished," Catherine told him.  "Did you cover the stuff?"

"Found a heavy plastic sheet in a cabinet earlier, used it to cover the entire table," he reported.  "The cabinet was marked emergency supplies so I figured that's what it was for."  He looked at Hodges, who nodded.  "I did it after I pulled the alarm but it shouldn't have mattered with what I was doing."

"No, that's fine," she agreed.  "Good job, Xander."

"Should I roll over for belly scratches too?  Or just ear pets?" he quipped, smirking at her.

"I only scratch behind ears," she assured him smugly.  "Unless I have to smack you with a rolled up newspaper."

"Hey, I'm housetrained and I don't chew on shoes.  My only friends were girls, I learned to appreciate shoes."

"Did they like the girls you were dating?"

"Yup," Xander sighed. "For the most part.  Then again, they're former friends and if they show up, I'm leaving.  Or hiding, hiding is always an option with them.  Sometimes they're not that bright."

"I had friends like that but I left them back in college," Greg offered.

"I left mine to go to college after they told me I was stupid and couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of their lives.  You know, that thing I'd watched them deal with and lived beside them for almost eight years," he said bitterly.  "But that's okay.  I lost an eye due to them and I lost Anya for good due to them.  I'm sure I can stay mad at them for another few decades."

Greg patted him on the back.  "It'll be okay.  You'll make new ones who'll help you find good people to date.  I'll talk to one of my exes tonight, she likes to matchmake."

"Sure."  He shrugged.  "As long as it's not Faith."

"Um, no, but if she comes into town I'll expect a warning."

"Mutual on that," he agreed, shaking hands on that pact.  They looked toward the building and sighed.  "We need books."

"We do," Greg agreed. "Got any?"

"Yeah, a fantasy novel I planned on reading over lunch," he offered, looking over at his car.  "Maybe a magazine or something.  We can go hunt through my car."  Greg nodded, following him over there to hunt for something to read or do while they waited.

Catherine walked over to where one of the firemen was whistling for her, then came back.  "Okay, who in CSI smokes?" she called.  A few people raised their hands.  "Xander?"

"Can't inhale," he called from his car's hood.  "Tried a few times, makes me wanna puke."

"She meant normal cigarettes, Xander," Bobby called with a grin.

"So did I.  If I wanted pot, my neighbor smokes enough for a whole town's worth of people, I can get a contact buzz by sniffing my walls."

"We'll have to warn him when the drug sniffing dogs come in," Grissom noted dryly. "What happened?"

"Someone put their cigarette out on the edge of the box," she said grimly.

"There's been some footprints in the dustier parts when I go down there for lunch," Sarah offered. "It's always heading toward the 'twenty years or greater' section though."

"No, that's under the coroner's section," she pointed out.  "This was in the last year's case files.  Right under Archie's lab."

"It's a good thing Xander can smell better than I can," Archie said before blowing his nose again.  "Did we lose much?"

"Some things may have smoke damage but only one box was smoldering," Catherine told him. "It's Nick's case so I let him open it."  She looked around.  "We should be okay to go back in within an hour."  Everyone groaned.  "Sorry, people."  She noticed Hodges fidgeting.  "Did you get to go to see the doctor?"

"He canceled on me.  He had to go watch an emergency c-section.  His daughter's first one on her own."  He shrugged.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem," she offered.  "You don't have to stay."

"Yes I do.  I'm checking my lab."

"Fine," Grissom agreed.  "Let me know when you're rescheduling as soon as you can."

"Yes, sir."

The fingerprint tech walked back there, smirking at Xander.  "What do you have to read?"

"A Lackey, a Robin Cook, and Book Seven of Harry Potter," he noted, handing over the bag.  "I went to the bookstore on my way in so I'd have something to read in the tub later."

"Why do you read in the tub?"

He looked at her.  "I don't have an air conditioner and what else are you supposed to do when you soak in the tub?"

"Read and play with the bubbles," Greg agreed.

"You take bubble baths?" she asked.

"I have," he defended.

"Me too," Xander agreed.  "It make us smell better and it's easier to clean up when you're really messy and nasty if you soak in a bubble bath first."  She just gaped at them.  "You do the same thing to dishes.  Or so the commercials say."

"Point," she admitted, taking out the Robin Cook novel and going back to sit down among normal people.  "Greg and Xander take bubble baths," she told Catherine.  Who only shook her head and walked off.

Everyone ducked when they heard the gunshot/backfiring noise but only Xander yelped and held his shoulder.  Grissom walked over to look at him.  "Are you all right?"

"Mostly fine," he complained, pulling off his t-shirt to look.  "Stupid idiot with the pellet gun," he complained.  "Got a pair of tweezers?"

"Doc?" Greg called.  "Do you have a bag on you?  Someone just shot Xander and he said he only needs tweezes."

Both ME's looked over then came over to help.  It was obvious it wasn't serious, no one was screaming and running or on the ground, but Xander was growling and trying to force the bead out.  The older one, Doc Robins, looked at it and popped out the small pellet.  "Looks like bird shot."

"I'm not a bird," Xander complained, looking back as best he could.  "Just one?"

"Looks like two," he admitted, getting the other out after a moment's work.  They were handed to Grissom, who took a small baggie out of his pocket.  "It's been going on around here a lot recently. Sorry no one warned you."

"Ehh, I've had worse," Xander complained. "Pretty distant since it almost didn't sink in."  He took the baggie to look at.  "Useable range of fifty yards."

"He's still here," Greg called.  "Range of fifty yards."

"Going," Warrick agreed, heading off to look.  "Coming, Greg?"

"Yup, sure."  He put down his magazine and headed off with him, going to find out who was doing this to them again.

"I've got a clean shirt in my locker," Xander promised.  "But it's one of my slogan t-shirts that'll make Ecklie have a stroke."

Grissom gave him a look.  "Which one?"

"My bad mood shirt," he said with a grin.  "It says: I'm having a bad day and you're in my way; I'm having a bad day and I like guns and you're in my way; do you want to visit the coroner tonight?  Then get out of my way.  Now."

The younger ME chuckled at that.  "Makes a statement definitely."

"I used to wear it during finals.  Everyone at UCLA got out of my way for some reason," Xander noted dryly.  "The security guards laughed and one teacher told me she never wanted to have me for another class again and gave me the benefit of rounding up by a point so I got the higher grade.  I would have passed with a C but I got a B instead.  Fortunately that was more than good enough for Calc One."

"You're horrible, Xander," Grissom said.

"You know, most techs lose their sunny dispositions and fun natures after a few years on the job," David, the younger ME pointed out.  "It's nice to have someone with a sense of humor around here for a change."

"I didn't lose my sense of humor through an urban combat situation.  I'm not losing it because I have a good job doing things that I enjoy," Xander said dryly.  "I don't expect it to happen anytime in the near future."

"Urban combat situation?  Was that like military service?" the older doc asked as he put a bandage over the small wound.

"Um, not really.  More like stalking, hunting, and stopping the military there for a bit," Xander offered.  "They wanted to turn us into experiments and we didn't like that.  We drove them out.  That and the usual southern California daily commute and lifestyle."

"Really?  You don't look like you have tattoos," David offered.

"I had tattoos?  Since when?  No one told me."

"No gang affiliation?" David asked.

Xander snorted.  "No, honey, it's not that sort of hunting.  Ours was more...necessary.  More a matter of survival now and then.  Besides, there weren't enough of us to be considered a gang.  I wish there had been but there's not."

"I heard that your school blew up during one of the graduations," Grissom said plainly.

Xander looked at him.  "Yeah, it did.  It was during mine.  I'm still not saying a word about it either.   The Feds came to talk to all of us and we all kinda gave them blank looks like 'what are you and can we wipe you off our shoes when we hurt you'.  They didn't like that either.  Especially since one person asked if she could hurt them for waking her up so early."  Buffy had not been pleased with that he remembered.  Her 'why can't I hurt them, they're mean and they woke me up at ten, therefore they're evil' was a classic response.

The older ME looked at him.  "What happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xander said seriously, staring into his eyes.  "Let's just say it was necessary and leave it there, doc.  I don't wanna deal with the Feds today."

"Sure, kid."  He finished taping down the gauze pad.  "There.  That should be fine.  It didn't get that deep and you're barely bleeding."

"Thank you. You're much nicer than the last ER doc who saw me.  She stabbed me with a big needle and then made fun of me for yelping at the ten gauge thing."

He leaned closer.  "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's like reincarnation.  It's my former life," he said quietly.  "I'm no longer there and very few things will draw me back into it."

"Fine.  As long as you're fine," he said gently.

"Yeah, I'm good.  If you ever need my help though, just yell my way, doc.  I'm still in practice for urban combat maneuvers."

"Sure."  He bundled back up his things and closed his bag.  "He'll be fine to work tonight."

"Good," Grissom agreed.  "I'm sure there'll be something for him to do."  He glanced over at the news crews arriving.  "Usually they're earlier."

"Fuck," Xander muttered, getting down to sit on the other side of his car, out of sight.  "I'm not here, you don't know me, I'm invisible."

"Sure," everyone agreed, going back to their former spots so no one would notice them or Greg, who walked away reading when he came back.

Xander reached up to get his bag and his shirt, then went back to his hiding.

***

Brass walked down to the CSI unit long after midshift had come and went, tapping on the door to Trace.  "Xander, you have a visitor."

"They don't page him?" Hodges asked.  "Gee, are you special, Xander?"

"Yes, didn't you get the memo?" he quipped back.  "Should I run and hide now?"

"She's in interrogation room one," he offered. Hodges stared at him, then at Xander.  "Small, redhead, female."

"Oh, fuck me," he muttered, stomping off.  This was not good.  "I thought it was only paranoia and a flashback."  He stopped to look through the one-way mirror, then grimaced, walking inside.  "How did you know I was here?" he demanded.

Willow took a moment to look him over, reading his shirt too. "I saw you on the news," she said quietly, glancing around.  "Why are you here?  Are you in trouble?"

"I work here," he said patiently.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  "Well?"

"I'm hunting," she offered finally.  "Giles was turned.  He's here somewhere."

"There's a guy watching over the city."

"I asked there and at the bar I found.  No luck.  Then I heard there was a Knight, with a capitol letter, in town."  She looked him over again. "Since when?"

"Since always.  That's what you're called when you're a normal person and you do the work, Willow.  The same as I did in LA for a few years."  She gaped at that.  "Fix it and leave."

She stood up.  "I need you, Xander.  I can't track him, he's blocking me.  I need your help. You've got to know the city pretty well."

"I've been here for a month, Willow.  I haven't even found a grocery store yet."  Her face fell.  "I'll ask around for you," he relented to keep her from crying.

"I...I can't do it, Xander.  Not Giles."

He rolled his eyes.  "I'll think about it.  I've still got to work tonight."  He turned and walked out, slamming the door and stomping off.  He passed Ecklie, who glared at his shirt.  "It fits," he growled back.  He looked at Grissom and Greg, who were in the halls.  "I'm getting some air before I kill again."  He walked out the side door and to the deepest spot of shade he could find, blatantly hiding from her in case she tried to track him.  He looked over as Brass came out and lit up.  "That's bad for you."

"I know.  Still helps now and then."  He looked at him.  "She's crying."

"Yay.  She wants me to hunt one of my former friends."

"What?"  He walked over.  "Come again?"

"Remember the strange stuff?"  He nodded slowly.  "Well, strange stuff number two.  One of my friends was turned," he said quietly, looking grim.  "She's here hunting him.  She wants me to take over that duty and stake him."  He shook his head, then turned and walked off.  "I'm going around the building.  I'll be back in twenty."

"Sure, kid.  Go in through the garage."

"I'd get lost again."  He continued walking, eventually pulling out his cellphone and dialing the number he had been given while he was looking at the baby demon.  "It's me.  Fair warning, Rosenburg's in town hunting our former mentor, who's been turned."  He hung up.  Someone would get the message back to the guy who watched over the demons in town.  It was nice, he wasn't responsible anymore.  He paused, watching her leave, still crying of course, then went back inside.  One of the older cops glared at his shirt.  "I'm the ballistics tech, get out of my way," he said coolly.  "The crying woman was my former friend."  He walked past him and the cop tried to stop him, so he flipped him onto his back and looked down at him.  "You do not grab me," he said firmly.  "No one, and I do mean no one, grabs me.  Ever.  I don't give a damn if I'm gonna die, you don't grab me.  You never, ever grab a person who's a veteran of combat.  Real military service or not."  He stomped off, going back to work, gathering the lost badge yet again.  "Where was it this time?"

"Hallway floor."

"I need to stick this better," he complained as he walked, putting it back on his belt.  "I flipped the idiot who grabbed me," he yelled as he walked into the ballistics lab.  "Hey, need help yet?" he asked primly, mouth pressed together.

"No.  Not really.  Hodges could use some help."

"Yeah, but that's fussy work and I'm about to bounce myself into a wall to make my head quit hurting."

"Greg's trying to pound something into shape."

"Sure."  He headed to where he could hear banging, going to interrupt.  "Need help?"

"Yes!  I don't swing with enough force.  I need about two hundred psi to see if this dents."

Xander wiped his hands on his jeans, then took the sledge hammer, then gave it a dirty look.  "You're using this?"  He put it aside and got another hammer, this one heavier.  "The heavier the mallet, the more force, Greg."

"I know that, I can't lift that one."

"Fine.  Two hundred and only two hundred or at least two hundred?"

"Swing at the meter first," he ordered, pointing at dummy's chest.

Xander smirked at the chest-shaped meter pad.  "Gladly."  He took a swing and looked at Greg, who looked impressed.  "Good enough?"

"More than.  About half that actually.  Try it again?"  Xander eased off some and Greg nodded.  "Good.  Now hit the metal."  Xander got into position and swung, denting it slightly.  "Now do a full force one."  He watched as the boy swung again, wincing at the sound the new dent made.  "Wow.  Thanks, Xander.  Feel better?"

"Yeah, a bit."  He put his mallet back and went back to help Hodges now that he was more calm.  "Sorry, throwing a fit."

"It happens to the best of us.  What did she want?"

"Me to go back."

"Xander!" Grissom shouted.

"I warned first," he shouted back.  "Next time he won't grab me."

"Not that."  He walked into the lab and shut the door.  "Ecklie just got onto me about your shirt."

"Yay.  Remind him I got shot earlier and it's clean.  I could have taken the rest of the night off.  I probably should have because then my friend wouldn't have shown the hell up."  Grissom gave him a stern look.  "She wanted me to hunt down our former mentor who's now turned."

"Um, do I need to know this?" Hodges asked.

Xander looked at him.  "If you can promise me not to gossip, ever, about this, I don't care."  Hodges looked unsure.  "Seriously.  If others know, I'll be hunted.  They'll come here."  Hodges nodded and backed away.  "I used to live in Sunnydale, California."

"I know.  I checked the town, there was an earthquake."

Xander snorted. "Not even close, Snapette.  There was a Hellmouth.  A portal to hell.  Don't believe me, go down to Out of Focus tonight and ask.  I'll make sure you get the soul restoration spell after you're eaten."

"I've been by there," he said grimly, backing up a step further.  "I saw what was going on."

"Good.  I used to hunt those things.  Urban combat situations."  Hodges gaped.  So Xander shrugged once and nodded a few times.  "From tenth grade until I graduated.  When Sunnydale caved, I went to help in LA. I didn't want to move to Cleveland since my former friends, who used to hunt with me, didn't want me there anyway because they thought I was useless.  I'd only been doing this now for years and saved their lives, ya know, no big deal?"  Hodges swallowed.  "So, my friend who showed up earlier tonight told me that she's here hunting our former mentor, that he's been turned into one of those creatures I used to hunt, and pleaded for me to hunt him instead of her.  So I'm a bit pissed."

"Greg needed some help," Grissom offered.

"Already did, boss."  He looked at him. "I will be in tonight.  I refuse to go back.  It's like reincarnation for me.  It's not a world-ending emergency, I'm not helping unless I'm forced to.  But if Rupert Giles, a.k.a. Ripper, shows up, I'm not here."

"Aren't there people who are supposed to do that stuff?" Hodges demanded.

"Yeah, she's blonde, about five-five, and wears trashy clothes.  I helped her.  So did the friend who showed up tonight.  That earthquake was the portal to hell closing for good after we'd went inside and kicked ass.  That's where I lost Anya.  I lost my eye right before then."

"So when you say combat, you mean hunting, stalking, paramilitary style combat," Hodges said in awe.  Xander nodded.  "Anything else?"

"Yeah, if a Fed or anyone military *ever* asks you about me, you don't know me.  My friends and I took down a military special ops group who was working on the torture-is- educational mindset.  Again, necessary.  That's also how I learned about explosives," he noted dryly.

"Your high school?"

"Big, huge demon bastard trying to eat us.  It was the only way he died," Xander admitted.  "We won."

"Enough said," Hodges agreed.

Grissom nodded. "I agree.  You sure?  You could take tonight off."

"No, I told the guy who just had the baby.  He's over that in Vegas.  Including the ones here on vacation.  Either he'll hand Ripper over to her or he'll have her sent off and him sent off.  It brings too much attention."

"Fine," Grissom agreed.  "I want to know about this, Xander.  Just in case."

"Yes, sir.  Not an issue.  I'm coming in to work tonight and I'm probably going to go home and only sleep today.  It's been one of those long, strange, bad days today."

"I can see that," Grissom agreed.  "Need anything to help calm you down?"

"No, I'm good," he admitted.  "I'll even stay away from Ecklie, who's lurking outside."  Everyone looked at he frowned at them, opening the door.  "We're having a private discussion about the friend I sent away earlier.  Did you need to help with that, Director Ecklie?  I know I'm supposed to go to my supervisor when I have deep personal traumas."

"You assaulted an officer, Harris?"

"No, he grabbed me and I reacted on instinct.  Even after I identified myself as a ballistics tech.  Had he not grabbed me, I would have left him alone."

"Uh-huh.  What sort of military service did you have, Harris?"

"Classified," he said firmly.  "I've told my supervisor enough in case something odd should happen.  I'm not going any further up the chain and endangering any more lives with it."  Ecklie gaped at him.  "Director, with all due respect, go away.  I'm not in the mood to play with nice people today.  I got shot earlier.  I had to deal with a former friend coming to me for something she knew I wouldn't do.  I'm in a bad mood and the shirt is appropriate.  It's fair warning in my book.  Feel lucky I don't have to carry every day."

"On days like this when you do have a weapon, I want it," Grissom told him firmly.

Xander patted himself down and handed over his pocket knife.  "There you go," he quipped, grinning at him.  "Thank you for letting me rant."

"You're welcome, Xander.  You needed it.  Call me today if you have more problems."

"If I have more problems, there's gonna be a few piles of dust," he said dryly.  Grissom nodded at that.  He looked at Hodges.  "You okay?" he mouthed.  Hodges nodded and came back to work beside him.  "More samples?"

"Yes, more samples," he said sarcastically. "I still couldn't get Nick to tell me why he needed each and every hair taken off and cataloged."

"I still say that one's a rabbit."

"It could be.  We'll analyze in a few minutes.  Did you need anything else, Ecklie?"

"No," he said grimly.  "Do not ever wear that shirt in here again, Mr. Harris."

"Sure thing, boss.  I'll keep more changes of clothes in my locker to replace this one and I won't get shot here ever again."

"See that you do.  Um, don't."  He walked off, closing the door behind him.

"So, do I not get shot or do I not put more clothes in my locker?"

"I'd say don't get shot but that's a personal opinion," Hodges offered.  "It's gotta hurt."

"I've had worse when my eye popped."

"If you say so."

"It didn't go that deep either," he admitted.  "They popped out like a zit."

"Again, if you say so."  He pinched him. "I'm not a female Snape."

"Sorry, Hodges."

"Thank you."  They got back to work and he decided he'd write another report on Xander's temp job for him.  It couldn't hurt the boy's performance review and could help him find a good job elsewhere.  Far from where he would be bothered.

***

Xander walked in the next night, finding two officers in a stand-off with a suspect holding their receptionist hostage.  "Man, put a guard on the door," he complained, distracting the suspect.  One of the cops glanced at him but the other rushed the suspect and got his gun.  "Welcome," he noted, walking the receptionist back to their break room.  "Here, honey, you sit here and shake and cry," he soothed, patting her on the back when she broke out in tears.  "It'll be okay. You're not hurt are you?"  She shook her head, clinging to his stomach.  "Shh, it's all right.  He's in custody and he'll never do it again.  The nice cops got him and you'll be okay," he soothed, patting her on the back.  He looked over at the sound of footsteps, nodding at the cop standing there.  "She's breaking down."

"That's fine, sir.  Who are you?"

"I'm the ballistic tech who keeps losing my badge.  It keeps falling off."

"Ah.  The clips on one lot were bad.  You might try a neck chain or something similar, sir."

"Sure.  And I'm a Xander.  Don't sir me, kid."

"Yes, Xander."  He came in to sit with her, taking over soothing duties.  "Thank you."

"Not an issue. No one told me something was going on."  He went back to the lab, finding it locked.  He knocked.  "Are we kicking me out?" he called when no one answered.  "Or should I try to break it in?"  Still no answer.  He headed for Grissom's office.  "Ballistics is locked.  Am I in deep shit or just mild doo-doo?"

Grissom looked at him.  "Bobby had to rush home.  His mother's due for surgery next week but she just got worse.  I didn't know he had locked it, Xander.  Can you handle it on your own?"

"Sure.  Not a problem."  He shrugged. "I need to get a chain for my ID, I keep having it slip off."  One was pulled out and tossed over.  "Thanks, boss."  He went to get his ID from behind the desk and took it back.  It was stiff enough so he was able to break into the lab with it then put it on around his beltloop.  It got in the way otherwise.  He heard a noise and looked over, nodding at Greg.  "She's fine."

"I was wondering."

"Stand off.  The receptionist was being used as a hostage."

"Ah.  No wonder she's crying in the break room.  Where's Bobby?  I was gonna ask him about his mother."

"Apparently she's taken a turn for the worse and he had to leave unexpectedly.  So I'm it," he said dryly.  "You could probably call his phone and leave a voice mail."

"That's not a bad idea.  I'll email him too," Greg assured him.  "I'll tell him you're fine and you're here to cover."

"I'll do it later," Xander promised, grinning at him.  "So, no strange stuff today, I'm impressed with my life."

"Me too.  How's the shoulder?"

"Doesn't hurt a bit," he said with a grin.

"I've gotten word from a friend that Chicago's looking for a tech," Greg told him.

"It's pretty up there," he admitted.  "Ballistics or trace?"

"Ballistics.  They don't have a massive lab but they've got a decent one.  Good protocols according to her.  I'll forward it to you if you want."

"Please. All I've gotten is an offer from the State Troopers in Montana."

"Well, you wanted to live in the middle of nowhere and make it safe for your future dogs," Greg quipped, grinning and walking off.  "I'll do that in a few, Xander."

"Thanks, Greg."  He checked his inbox and there wasn't anything.  He walked to the door.  "I don't have anything to do," he called.

"I can fix that," Warrick called back, bringing him a few samples.  "Here you go.  I was going to do it later if you didn't come in."

"Why wouldn't I come in?" he asked as he took them.  "I had to break in, Bobby locked the lab when he left."

"Maintenance could have let you in."

"Why?  My ID worked well enough.  That would have taken time."  He poured out the first sample, looking it over.  "Where did you find this interesting piece of equipment?"

"Inside the stuffed rabbit you gave Catherine to show it was rabbit fur."

"Which was just lying in the office," he noted dryly.  "Going to waste."

"I'm sure it was someone's Easter present to Cat's daughter," Warrick offered. "What are those?"

Xander put the first one under the microscope, then grinned, waving him over.  "Presents."

Warrick looked and smiled.  "Happy Easter," he read off one.  "That's cute."

"It is."  He pulled out the next sample to look at.  "Hmm.  Should I clean it or has Trace and DNA gotten it already?"

"No, Trace hasn't.  Why?"

"Looks like there's something under some of the blood."  He put it back into the pouch and walked it next door.  "Hey, Hodges.  Warrick just gave me this and I think there's something under the blood but I can't tell," he offered.  "I need to run and get my glasses.  Can you take a quick look?"

"Sure, Xander."  He took the bullet to look at, then nodded.  "Yeah, there's stuff under the blood."  He went over to the chem/DNA lab to scrape off a sample and run it for him.  By the time Xander got back, Warrick had his results and Xander got the bullet back.  "There you go."

"Thanks, Hodges.  I'm running ballistics but we're not that busy if you need me to help you with stuff."  He went back to work on that new bullet, putting the pellets back into the envelope.  He'd look over the rest of them later, just to make sure they weren't problematic.  Grissom came in and put a key beside him while he was working.  "Thanks, boss.  I used my ID this morning.  Worked well enough."

"Fine, Xander.  I'll do random checks for you about every other day."

"Yup, that's fine.  Or Warrick can if you'd rather since he seems pretty good in here."  He looked at him.  Then down the hall.  "Warrick?"  He stuck his head in.  "Thirty-two auto, Smith and Wesson."

"I have one of those," he admitted.  "It's still being processed."

"That's fine, I'll do the comparison when you bring it to me."  He put it back into the envelope and marked it as Warrick's sample on a sticky pad, putting it in his inbox.  "Whenever you're ready."

Warrick beamed.  "Do the standard clean-down.  It'll be about an hour."

"Sure."  He waited until he was gone then looked at Grissom.  "Am I okay?"

"With everybody but Ecklie."

Xander leaned closer.  "If that ass-licker comes near me again and starts to leer at me, I will get ill," he said quietly.  "I may appreciate some men but he's not one."  Grissom choked on that, starting to laugh.  Xander patted him on the back with a grin.  "He did.  Didn't you see it yesterday?  Hodges had to point it out to me that he leered at my pants.  Just like in that commercial, it had to be the pants."

Grissom shook his head.  "You two are horrible."

"But we're fun," Xander said with a bright grin.  "You like me for that reason alone."

"I do.  That's why I liked Greg in the DNA lab too.  Even though he was frustrating at times, he always was fun and lively in there."  He left, going back to his office to make notes on the boy's chart.  He found an evaluation letter from Hodges and smiled at the praise in it, actual praise not just Hodges grumpy speak.

Someone down the hall screamed.

Everyone came out of their offices and labs.

Xander came out armed and sighed, tucking the weapon in the back of his beltline.  "Why me?" he asked Hodges.

"The world likes you."

"Yay."  He headed that way, lounging in the doorway, just in case so he could see.  He saw someone stomp their way with a shotgun and shook his head at the guy.  "No admittance."

"I'm a cop," he said, holding up his badge.

"Let him in," Nick ordered.

Xander let him in.  "Fine.  Don't cause trouble, officer."

"Who are you to give me orders?"

"Marksman class shooter," he said dryly.  "Ballistics tech."  Then he grinned.  "Bomb fixer and things like that."  The guy backed away so he beamed.  "I'm a nice guy most of the time."  He looked out as someone else came running their way.  "Brass has a uniform?"

"Yeah, we had a funeral earlier."  He opened the door.  "Sir!"

"Hey, Cap.  Good news, bad news?"

"Bad, bad news.  Someone just tried to kill two people up front," he said, looking at Xander.  "No one can stop him.  They can't get a shot into him.  He's very fast, I'd say inhumanly fast."

Xander went back to his locker, hurrying in.  He grabbed his crossbow and a few bolts, then slammed the door and locked it before heading back.  He put the gun carefully on the table, then covered it with some paper before heading out.  "Come on, let's go.  How fast?"

"Speedy, like PCP speedy and unfeeling."

"Wonderful."  He notched back an arrow as they walked, taking aim as soon as they came within range.  "Fuck," he muttered.  "Ripper."  The vampire turned and he shot it in the shoulder.  "Morning.  Not liking the sun today?"

"Xander," he sneered, coming forward.

"Stop or I'll have to shoot again," he ordered coldly.  "I don't know why you came here.  You know I will."  He loaded another one and pointed it.  "I mean it."

"You'll all blow and wind," he sneered.

"No, I'm not," he sighed, shooting again.  He watched as his dissolved then walked off, heading back to his lab and slamming the door shut, locking it.  There was a delivery chute for anything they'd need.  He wasn't coming out.  He broke down the gun he had loaded and put them away, making sure his fingerprints weren't on them and it was wiped clean, then got back to work on that bullet for Warrick.  He'd need more specific info and he still had to run it through the system to see if it had a match.   Someone knocked and he didn't answer, just kept searching.  He heard someone wiggle the door knob. "Put it through the slot."

"Xander?" Hodges called.

"I'm fine.  Just pissed.  Let me simmer for a few more hours and I'll go hit the building later."

"Captain Brass and one of the officers wants to talk to you," Greg called.

Xander got up and opened the door, looking at Brass.  "What?  Did you think there was another way?"  He shook his head.  "Want my mini-crossbow?  Which isn't illegal by the way, I checked."

"No, just checking on you."

"It's not the first," Xander said dryly.  "Nor probably the last."  He shut the door again, locking it and going back to work.  "I'll be out later."

"Fine.  Come see me if you need to talk."

"Yup, sure will."  He sat down and went back to typing in the search parameters.  "Gee, ten thousand matches.  Popular model."  He digitized the bullet's features and put them on there, getting just about half that.  "Really popular model."  He gave it up until he had the gun.  He could search the serial number or the pin impression to find any other matches.   He found an older case he wanted to match still and ran it, getting no matches, but that didn't make any sense.  The paperwork Bobby had left said it matched to six other cases.  He tried it again, this time by serial number and came up with zero.  "Grissom!" he yelled.  The door rattled and he opened it, finding Ecklie.  "You're not Grissom.  Grissom?"  He came out of DNA.  "That bullet Bobby was working on, didn't he say it had matches?  Six matches?"  He nodded.  "I did a check since there's no report on it in the outbox and it came up none, even by serial number."

"What?" he asked, coming in to check, shutting the door again.  "You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, not the first.  Or the last," he sighed.  He handed over everything.  "It's not there."

"Let me look, Xander."  He redid the search based on what was written down.  He got the same result and went to get the case file so they could look over the original, make sure it wasn't a copy error.  He typed it in from that source, still nothing.  He grimaced and checked another one he had on his desk, one that Xander had found and came up with nothing.  And a note from the administrator to see what he was doing.  He opened a chat session with him, noting particulars and that they now had cases missing.   What he got back made him stop then glare.  "Ecklie!" he shouted.  The door was opened by Xander, who went to find the director.

"Yo, Ecklie," he said when he found him.  "Grissom just bellowed loudly for you."  He looked at the captain.  "Did you have that one that Bobby found six matches on?"

"No, not me.  One of the others was working with Sarah.  Why?"

"It's not in the system," he said quietly.  Ecklie stared at him.  "Not my fault!  I don't have access to do that.  But Grissom did just *yell*."  They hurried back there, that wasn't like him.  Xander went to find Sarah and have a quiet word with her.  "Hey," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her into the hallway.  "I was just checking so I could do the report for Bobby on that bullet that had the six matches in the system."  She nodded, looking clueless. "It came up no matches and we're not sure why yet.  They're working with the database at the moment."

"Xander!" Grissom said, coming up to him.  "You can't erase records, right?"

"I can't even input records," he noted.  "I don't have access to do more than search.  You never got me a password to input."

"Damn," he muttered.  "The whole Vegas section of the system has been removed."

"Definitely not me," Xander defended. "I'm not that bad with computers."

"Who has that sort of access?" Sarah asked.

"An administrator, someone who has the privileges of one, or someone on the Fed level who has the same access," Xander told her. "Or a hacker."  He looked at Grissom.  "Okay, there's four ballistics techs here. Right?"  He nodded.  "Is it affecting any other system or is it focused on us?  Because, yes, I am paranoid."

"We can find out if someone did the rabbit virus on any of you," Sarah told him.  "Go through fingerprints."

"Not a bad idea, thanks, Sarah."  He hurried off, going to fingerprints.  He leaned in.  "Busy?" he asked plainly.

"Kinda.  Why?"

"Because our whole system is down," he said quietly, walking in.  "As in no ballistic cases in Vegas are listed in the database."  She stared at him in horror.  "Now, call me paranoid..."

"You are.  Why?"

"Sarah mentioned something called a rabbit virus?"

"Basically it removes everything associated with a person," she offered.  "All their files, all their fingerprints, everything, down a hole.  You're thinking one of the techs?"

"Possibly.  We can't delete uploaded records."

"I can check," she offered, typing it into her system.  "Let me get your print, Xander."

"Sure.  Any particular medium?"

"Just the standard will be fine."  He carefully inked a thumb and pressed it onto a clean notecard for her.  "Thank you."  She ran it and the one she had for Bobby.  "Neither of you are showing up," she said.  She tried to match Xander's again, getting one Federal match in the system, but it was listed as classified.  "Why do the Feds have your record?"

"Former life. Not military service.  Why?"  He looked over her shoulder and shrugged.  "Not a clue."  He looked at her.  "Want to check the others?"

"I am."  She typed in the day shift guy's name and it came up blank, no match to query. "Oh, shit."

"Grissom," Xander called patiently.  "New twist."  He came over.  "Sarah mentioned the rabbit virus thing.  I'm not in the system.  Bobby's not in the system."

"Day shift's not in the system either," she said.  "Unless I misspelled terribly and it's hard to do that with Cole."

"Let me check the administrative database," he offered, going to his office to do that.  He came back a few minutes later. "Ecklie, none of our ballistics people are listed in the Admin database."

"If I don't get paid, I'm gonna pout," Xander offered from the doorway.  "Should I call Bobby?"

"No, give it two days," Grissom told him. "They may come back.  They could have just hiccuped."

"Payday's next week," Xander pointed out.  "Can someone check payroll?  Even if we were fired, we'd still have one last paycheck."

"Good point," Ecklie admitted, picking up the phone and dialing.  "This is Director Ecklie of CSI.  I need to check on a few people's checks for the next batch."  He listened.  "What do you mean no CSI pay forms have come in?  We're on salary for the most part."  He grimaced.  "You're sure?  How about Xander Harris?  He's one of our interns.  No?  Greg Sanders?"  He groaned.  "Thank you.  Yes, there's a problem.  No, I'll get with the sheriff about it later.  Thank you." He hung up.  "None of us are listed in their system."

"I found myself when I searched my name in the Admin databank," Grissom offered. He looked at Xander.  "We'll figure it out.  For now, work without it."

"It's not a big part of my day, boss. But that case almost depended on it, didn't it?"  He nodded. "Should I go back and reverify the match to the gun?"

"No, that's still solid," Grissom pointed out.  "Just match guns and bullets for now, Xander.  Do what you can without this."  He nodded.  "I'm calling a staff meeting anyway.  Ecklie, one hour?"

"Yes, one hour, Gil," he promised, going to call the Sheriff and ask what was going on.  Hopefully this was the work of a hacker.  If so, he'd get to up his budget to protect against them.  If not, he was going to be lynched by all those people not getting their paychecks next week.  He paged him from the reception phone, putting in an emergency code, then headed for his office. His phone was ringing by the time he got the door open.  "Sheriff?" he answered. "No, we've got a problem," he said quietly.  "The whole Ballistics database from us is gone.  Wiped totally.  Payroll said there's no CSI paystubs that got filed with them.  None of the ballistic techs are in the system at all.  They did a fingerprint search and a name search, couldn't find a one of them in the system.  Yes, this is horrible.  We have that multiple that's based on bullet processing through the system.  Yes, we need you down here now.  I'm not going to be lynched for them not being in the system for payroll.  Please.  Gil said he's calling a meeting in an hour.  I'm about to.  I'll let you know when you make it down here."

He hung up and sat down to search out his people, not finding them in the system either.  He called Grissom.  "Call everyone in.  Even my shift."  He printed out a list of names based on the building they worked in.  "Harris?  Clean up detail?  Frank Harris?"  He shook his head.  He didn't know him.  He'd have to ask Xander if he did.  Not that he liked the boy but if that was him he wanted and needed to know. He called the ballistics lab.  "Harris, Ecklie.  There's another Harris listed as working here.  Frank?"  He listened to the boy tell him who that was.  "You're sure?"  He nodded.  "Thank you then."  He hung up with a sigh.  This was still bad. The kid's father was here and the kid didn't sound happy about that in the least.  At least the guy was listed as 'job abandoned'.

***

Grissom looked across the assembled CSI teams, then looked at Ecklie.  "You want to start?"

"Not really."

Grissom rolled his eyes and looked at them.  "Thank you for coming so quickly.  There's been a problem discovered within the computer system."  Everyone stared at him.  He wasn't an alarmist like Ecklie and the Sheriff were.  It had to be bad with him looking like that.  "We found out earlier that the ballistics database is gone.  It was wiped clean.  Along with some of the personnel records of the ballistic techs.  Based on that, we called a few other places, like payroll, which doesn't have any of you listed."

"It's got Warrick and Catherine listed," Ecklie corrected quietly.  He raised a hand at the shouts of anger.  "She's got a friend who locked her file years ago and he's got someone down there who did the same."

"Former girlfriend maybe," Warrick offered.  "What's this mean for the rest of us?"

"No national or state or city matches on ballistics," Xander told him.  He looked down the row at him.  "We don't even have access now to search the database.  We had that earlier."  He looked up there.  "How did they remove personnel records?  Aren't those sealed in a non-touchable system?"

"We thought so.  It's not the full personnel records of most of you though.  It's mostly payroll, and the administrative database that doesn't list most of you anymore.  Personnel records have been deleted only for the ballistic techs and CSI Saunders."  Greg muttered something at that.  "We're not sure why they chose him."

"It was probably still listed as being in transition and therefore vulnerable," Grissom pointed out.  "We don't want to panic anyone.  We are working on it.  We're working very hard on it.  CODIS is still up for DNA the last we knew.  The Trace database and search engine are still up.  Fingerprints are still up except for personnel records associated with this."

"So it's the rabbit virus," Sarah said.

Ecklie nodded.  "It looks like it.  Which means that it's either someone here who holds a grudge or someone Federal who holds a grudge."  He saw the looks at Xander.  "It's not only his record and others have more sealed records than he does."

"The people who had me sealed were covert but not this dumb.  They know they can't make a living person disappear that easily. Grissom, I'll need protocol for what to search to check for missing files when and if it comes back."

"I'll help you figure that out later, Xander.  You've probably got the easiest load right now so it's more reasonable you do it."

"Plus, you're on salary so they won't have to pay you overtime," Hodges said dryly.

"I'm also an intern so they expect me to be a packmule and superman's love child," he retorted, smirking at him.  Even Ecklie snickered a bit at that one.  "Speaking of paychecks?"

"We're working with the sheriff to put in for emergency checks, that'll put you back into the system so you can at least get something," Ecklie assured them all.

"Something?" Catherine asked.  "Some of us need more than *something*."

"We'll do what we can," Grissom reminded her.  "Right now, their system says you don't exist, never existed, and will never exist.  You may have your personnel records, but not in payroll."  She moaned, holding her head.  "We're working on it. With any luck, we can get all your checks on time or shortly thereafter.  I know I and Catherine both keep a copy of the payroll sheets we send to the sheriff for at least a year.  I unplugged my computer from the intranet we're using first thing."  Everyone nodded at that.

"I keep copies too but I've also got a backup from last month," he offered.  "I haven't been able to back up my system in a few weeks."  He let out a small yawn.  "We're working on it.  This was mostly an FYI session.  We don't want to deprive anyone of anything or make you work without pay or hindered by this, but we want to get to the bottom of this."

"If it was a rabbit virus, then it's got to be at the administrative or federal levels," the day shift AV person noted quietly, crossing her legs.  "There's no one else who had access."

"Yes, but why focus on ballistic techs?" Archie asked.  "Why mostly them?"

"Because we're about to break a case," Xander said simply, looking back at him.  "Unless they're specifically targeting one of us, then I'm hoping it's something about a case we're about to break.  If so, then I'll gladly help go hit this person into their early grave."  The others mumbled at that.  "But which case would it relate to?"

"We've got six cases going to trial this week," Grissom noted.  "At least on my shift.  They're all solid and this won't affect them unless we're given new evidence."  Everyone nodded at that.  "As for current cases?  It could be any of them, Xander."

"Not really.  The one with the match that let us know about the problem already relented and pled.  We've only had six cases through ballistics in the last week, Grissom, even on day shift because I was filing their notes and reports the other day."

"You got one out of order too," one of the day shift people noted.

"Sorry, I filed by the second last name instead of the first.  I figured that out and fixed it later."

"That's fine.  We all make mistakes.  Can you input cases?"

"Nope. I don't have any access.  All I could do was search."  He looked back at his day shift counterparts.  "Besides, we can't even search the national database now.  They cut us off after being asked why we couldn't access our records.  We're completely closed off from the system."  They glared at Ecklie.

Ecklie looked at them.  "Have any of your cases had that sort of connection?"  They shook their heads.  "Not friends in high places or anything?"

"No," the lead tech noted, shaking her head.  "Not a one."

"Then I'd say upcoming and federally related," the other one noted.

Xander nodded.  "That was my thought."

"Where's Bobby?" one of the people in the back, a field CSI, asked.

"With his mother, she got worse suddenly," Grissom offered. "Xander's more than capable."  The Sheriff walked in back in, he had wandered off to answer his cellphone.  "Any new news?"

"One thing.  The personnel system is back up and running for everyone but ballistics and Sanders.  Payroll's still down though.  I've got them working on it to see what can happen, I even forwarded the last statements I got from the shift supervisors."

"So there'll be paychecks?" Archie asked.  "I've got to make my house payment out of this one."

"If we can, we'll get it to you," the sheriff promised, looking at the crowd.  "Do we have any idea which case this is related back to?"

"We're thinking a future one," Ecklie offered.  "The three ballistic techs here are from both shifts and they don't think there's anything that sensitive coming in right now."

"Well, I can tell you that I have called the computer crimes division of the FBI and they'll be investigating this."  Half the people in the room snorted or made other scoffing noises at that.  "These people are better than the usual," he promised.

"They'd have to be from what I've heard about them in the past," Xander muttered.  "Anything else?"

"No, that's all we know so far," the sheriff offered.  "We are working on it.  Please, just have a bit of patience."  That got some more scoffing noises.  He looked at the three supervisors since Catherine was joining him.  "What do we have planned?"

"Well, ballistics can still match bullets to guns," Ecklie offered.

"Xander was right, we'll need to know how to search for any missing files in the system," Catherine offered.  "Any idea how?"

"Can't he just search by gun?"

"There's over seven million files under nine millimeter alone," Xander called as he walked out.  He turned.  "I'm good but I'm not God, people, even I need to rest now and then."  He let the door slam behind him, going back to work.  The other two followed since it was nearly their shift. "I'm wondering if we should call Bobby now or not?  Grissom said to give it a few days earlier."

"I'll call his cell," the day shift superior said, sitting down behind the desk to do that.  He watched as Xander checked the inbox, finding the three things he had put in there.  "There's something in the bucket."

"Yeah, I was having a pissed off day earlier," Xander admitted, going to grab that one.  "That's for Trace," he said, glancing inside. "Yeah, that's a fiber."  He walked it over, handing it to Hodges.  "Here, they dropped it in the wrong door."

"Thanks, just what I need, more work," he said dryly.

"Just think, someone will have to probably rebuild part of our database," Xander said dryly.  "At least you don't have to."

He shuddered.  "No, I'm very thankful for that," he admitted.  "You okay now?"

"Yeah, this kinda takes precedence over staking my former mentor," he said quietly, going back to his lab and shutting the door.  "Okay, let's work out a strategy here.  Bobby was still looking over my shoulder about every ten cases.  Do you guys want to take up that slack or should Grissom or Warrick?"

"We can," the female day shift person offered, grinning at him.  "From what I've seen you're meticulous and pretty decent about cleaning up after yourself."

"Everything but the coffee spill because Ecklie knocked it over and I haven't had time yet," he admitted, going to clean that up off the bottom of the desk.  He tossed away those paper towels and got more, sopping up the last and spraying the area with alcohol to disinfect it.  He sighed as he looked at them. "Those are my current three.  I'm waiting on a gun to finish going through trace because Warrick said it needed it.  Then I've got two more to match which I can't.  I was working on one of Bobby's matches to do his report for him, going to look up the matched case files so I could do that, when I found out we don't have a database."  He looked at the superior.  "I can easily fill in until Bobby gets back, that's not an issue.  Tell him to take as long as he needs.  We'll work out my supervision between us and Gris."

The superior nodded, adding that as well onto the end of his message.  He hung up and looked at them.  "Okay.  What don't we have?"

"Any database access," Xander offered, going over to check.  "We can't search the national, we don't have a regional anymore.  If we had a state, it'd be in with the national and we can't search it either.  We still have our database of lans and grooves with makers and models.  We still have the books and the old case files, and we still have the guns if we can ever find any more."  Someone tapped.  "Yeah, open."  Warrick came in with a cardboard box.  "Oooh, for me?"

"For you," he agreed dryly.  "You okay?  You've had one of those really bad days."

"Yeah, well, I'll get chinese on the way home and nibble before bed, then come back tonight.  It's what we do."   He took it and found the bullet, making sure it hadn't been switched around.  "Someone switched my sticky notes."

"Huh?" Warrick asked.  "Couldn't you have misplaced them?"

"I did them one at a time," Xander said firmly.  "With a good twenty minutes between the last two."  He looked at the preliminary notes he had stapled to them, finding Warrick's easily. "Someone didn't read the notes when they put them back."  He pulled out the gun, looking it over, then looked at Warrick.  "Did this fire earlier?"  He nodded.  Xander pointed at the slide.  "That's rubber cement."

"I know that now."

"It won't fire that way."  Warrick groaned.  "So we'll do a replacement.  We'll remove the barrel and put it into the same make and model gun, then do a test fire and replace it."  They all grinned at that.  "It'll still break some of the rubber cement."

"That's fine."

Xander nodded, working on getting the gun down to where he could pull out the barrel, then going to find another one so he could do a barrel swap and try it.  He finally got it all together.  "Firing one," he shouted before firing one round into the water pit.  He switched the barrels back before getting the bullet, looking at it in the light.  "Hmm, interesting."  He put it under the scope, then looked down the barrel.  "There's rubber cement in here too."

"That'll destroy evidence to clean it," the day shift superior said smugly.  "What's your call, Xander?"

"Ask the supervising CSI whether I should destroy evidence to get a match, as long as I make thorough note of it, or to leave it and let him try another pathway."

"Go ahead and clean the barrel out, Xander," Warrick offered.  Xander nodded.  "How long?"

"Oooh, tonight," he said dryly.  "It'll take about an hour for the solvent to dissolve that to work, then I'll have to clean it gently and thoroughly, then reoil it and fire it."

"Fine.  Thanks."  He went to tell that to Grissom, who only nodded that it was appropriate.

Xander got to work on his report of what he'd have to do to the evidence, making sure it was all noted down and that many pictures were taken, including an AV picture with a filament camera that Archie did for him to show the damage inside the barrel.  Always over-document was his motto and it saved him a lot of grief later.

***

Xander smiled as Grissom came back.  "We have access to search again," he said happily.  "Any better news?"

"The payroll records have been fixed for those who have files."

"Which isn't me or Bobby," he pointed out dryly.  "Still no local files but I'm supposing they'll be back sometime tonight.  How do we search for missing files?"

"Go back over your recent ones to make sure they're in there," he offered.  "Otherwise I'm not sure.  You can do a general number search, see if they're about the same."  He shrugged.  "I don't know how to do that, Xander.  We'll figure out if there was a backup and a master list.  I'm still worried this is something about your past."

"No, not mine," he promised.  "The covert ops idiots I dealt with aren't this stupid.  Why?  Is it a federal boo-boo?"

"Yes," he said, nodding.  "Computer Crimes tracked it back to one of their branches."

"Hmm, why would the FBI want to hide files?  Someone dirty?  Someone that's a target of an investigation and they think it'll help?  Someone undercover and they had to fix things?  Or someone in protective custody that's getting into trouble again?  Possibly someone being taken into protective custody," he offered. "Oh, here, I had to use heroic measures to get a bullet to match for Warrick."  He handed over the report with pictures.  "Rubber cement."

"You asked him first?"

"Yeah, me and the day shift people talked about it with him.  I only did the barrel and then we swapped it out to do a test fire for rifling. The rest is still a solid mess."

"That's fine, Xander.  You're doing very good.  Even if you are having a crappy week."  He gave him a small smile.  "What about your paycheck?  Are you going to be okay?"

"Hell no," Xander said dryly.  "My rent's due this time.  I called my landlord and told him that the intern paychecks are being held back by at least a week due to some federal snafu and that I'd be a bit late with my rent.  He's already chewed me a new one.  I may end up selling my car and bussing to work for a bit."

"I'll see what I can do, Xander.  Keep a watch for our files to reappear and then we'll see what we can figure out about searching for missing files."  He took the report back to look at it, then smiled at the happy conclusion on the front page.  He ran into Warrick and handed it to him.  "From Xander, the gun barrel he had to clean.  Complete with pictures in case you need them."

"Thanks, Gris.  Is it a match?"  He nodded. "He does good work."

"He does," he agreed.  "That's what I meant to tell him.  I just got asked if we could have him recruited while he was still here."  He went back to the lab.  "Xander?"  He glanced over.  "Chicago has offered to send someone to recruit you while you're still here.  Do you mind?"

"Not a bit, boss.  It's nice to be wanted for something good."

Grissom came in and shut the door.  "Xander, are you all right, I mean about that shooting?"

Xander sat down, looking over at him.  "Gris, to be honest, he's not the first of my friends I had to do that with.  My very first one was."  He winced.  "So, no, I'm not really but I managed to learn to cope years ago.  I'll go home and sulk to chinese food and sleep with some nightmares for the next few days."

"Damn it," Hodges yelled from next door.

"Are you all right?" he called.

"No!"

Xander and Grissom both went to check on him.  Xander looked at the computer, which was smoking, then at him.  "Did you think it needed a last cigarette?"  Hodges gave him a dirty look.  "Sorry, couldn't resist with the day I've had, buddy.  Can you shut it down?"

"I already did," he admitted, slapping the side of the monitor.  "The whole system went 'pfftz' then smoked up and died, Grissom.  I need a new one."

"We should have one somewhere," he offered.  "I'll go pounce Ecklie for you, Hodges. What did you lose?"

"Two reports I was writing that are connected and two searches.  One of them on the database that we only had access to from in here."

"Maybe Archie can get the files off it," Grissom offered.  "We can replace it and you'll still be able to get on there."

"Thanks, Grissom."

"Let me call and check."  He went to do that, going to call Ecklie while he responded to the email.  Since he didn't really have a lot to do until they could figure out the problems he could be efficient tonight.  "Ecklie, Grissom.  Hodges' computer just smoked up and died with a fizzle of noise.  No, like it was smoking, Ecklie.  Yeah.  That's also the oldest we have in the lab.  Well, if he can't, we don't have a Trace department.  The database for samples was only allowed in there."  He smirked.  "I didn't think you'd like that.  Sure.  Yeah, he's basically stuck until then.  Because anyone bringing in the new computer could contaminate anything he was working on.  Yes, there's a reason to get it done quickly.  Thank you."  He hung up and smiled at the nice reply he got back from Chicago.  "Xander, expect them in about a month."

"Sure, boss, getting a soda and some tylenol."

"That's fine."

Xander walked back into his lab, then went to check on Hodges.  "After my present bullet and gun, I can help you if you need me to."

"Thanks.  I might need you to," he sighed, looking around.  "I'm getting backed up and this isn't helping."

Xander nodded.  "I understand.  All I have is an ancient refurbed laptop at home.  I doubt it'd help."

"No, probably not," he admitted.  He looked at him.  "You okay?"  Xander shrugged and took a drink.  "You sure?"

"I'll be fine.  It's not the first time.  Really."  He grimaced, looking at the monitor.  "If there's anything in there it's not mine."

"I know.  I saw that coffee spill today when Ecklie tipped his cup over and never cleaned it up.  You always clean up when you make a mess."  He frowned at his former computer.  "My day shift counterpart is ill and her medicine is making her sleepy a lot.  It's possible something of hers spilled.  We'll get a new one in and I'll be able to go back to work."

"Sure.  If I can help, ask me."  He went back to ballistics, taking the scope back from Nick by pushing the chair he was sitting on out of the way.  "I was coming back.  That's Greg's anyway."

"I'm helping him," he offered, watching him work.  "They look like they line up."

"They do but it's not a perfect match.  Toward the bottom they're a bit off."  He let him see again.  "I'm going to call it a 98 percent match due to that, probably due to the smaller diameter of the bullet.  We use different ammo in here and it's got a slightly wider tip."

"That brings in reasonable doubt," Nick pointed out.

Xander looked at him.  "If you could bring me the ammo he used, I could make an exact match but I'm not going to lie, Nick.  I was going to put in that the test ammo was bigger in diameter than the original bullet and that would account for the non-exact match on all levels, but that in my opinion it is a match."

"That's honest and how you're supposed to do it," Grissom said from the doorway.  "What's up?"

"We use slightly bigger diameter ammo than this guy did.  It means that the bullets won't match perfectly.  I'd say about a 98 percent."

Grissom came in and looked, nodding.  "Looks about right, especially there near the bottom," he offered.  He looked at Xander.  "Explaining that in the report would help mitigate doubt.  Can you find the original source of ammo, Nick?"

"We'll look, Gris.  If we can, can you redo the report?"

"I'll add on a second one," Xander promised.  "I'll point out we use cheap ammo and the ammo source is different by ... and put in the dimensions."

"Thanks.  That'll work."  He grinned and walked out.  "Page us when it's done."

"Sure."  He shook his head, looking at Grissom.  "Checking on me?"

"I probably should so the day shift doesn't get behind."

"Hodges is behind," he said quietly.  "When I don't have anything I'm going to duck over to help him get caught up."

"That's fine, Xander.  I figured you would.  Just leave a sign on your door about where you are."

"Sure."   He took another drink and set his soda aside.  "Is he getting a computer tonight?"

"Maybe.  If we're lucky."

Xander nodded, sitting down behind his to type out the report, which he had partially finished and put in his conclusions and statements about the different ammunition he used.  Then he spell checked it and grammar checked it before saving and printing.  He gathered it and stapled it together, taking his soda with him while Grissom checked over his shoulder.  "Hey, Hodges," he said, sticking his head in.  "Go ahead and use my computer for now for what you can.  I'm done with my last report."

"Sure.  Thanks, Xander."

"Not an issue, man."  He went in search of Greg, finding him staring at the candy machine.  "Slight issue," he said in greeting.  Greg groaned.  Xander pushed the button for a candy bar, handing it to him.  "You look like you need it."  Greg unwrapped it and took a bite, then took the report.  "We use slightly more hefty ammo. I can get a good match, make it reasonable why it's not perfect.  I need his own ammo to prove the perfect match."

"But this is good enough," he offered.  "It's reasonable. It's explained.  It couldn't be another gun, right?"

"Not unless he's got a stretched out barrel," he noted.  "The center aligns perfect it's just the bottom and top edge grooves that don't."

"Xander, did you do the Peterson case?" Grissom asked.

"Day shift did.  I finished the report when she left it on the desktop.  It only needed to have the detail analysis page put on and spell checked.  Why?  Problems?"

"To me it's not as exact as she thought," he offered.

Xander looked at him.  "Should I check?"

"No, it's okay.  I'll hold it for now and then go back over it tomorrow when she comes in.  Good work today.  Greg, can you get that original ammunition source?"

"I can try," he offered.  "We're still trying to get it linked back to the guy."

Xander smirked and pointed at the folder. "It's got a registered owner.  If that helps, I hope I did okay."

"Thanks, Xander."  He gave him a pat on the arm and took his candy bar with him.

Xander walked past Grissom, pinching him on the arm.  "No more stalking people around tonight.  You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I have just not a lot," he offered.  "You sleep today too.  I don't want you that tired tonight."  He headed for his office and Jim Brass's office after that while Xander went back to clean up his lab and help Hodges if he needed it.

Hodges looked up as Xander walked in.  "I closed the open gun box you had out."

"Thanks.  I meant to do that."  He got to work cleaning up, then settling in to check the system again.  "We have a few Vegas cases," he said grimly.  He ran the particulars of his last case through and it came up with a few others.  He ran the pin impression and the serial number, then smirked.  "Part of the system's back and I need Greg," he said happily, reaching over to page him.  Greg came jogging down the hall a few minutes later, letting Xander give him a happy grin, a wink, and a wave at the computer, which he was printing out fact sheets on each of the cases for him, just in case.  "Part of it's back up.  It's a long and well used gun."

"Really?"  He came in to look.  "Ooooh, many many uses."  He took the papers once they were all done and headed back to show Nick.  "Grissom, the system's partially back up.  Xander checked my gun and came up with many uses by serial number and pin impression."  He found Nick and handed over the papers.  "It's partially back up.  Xander searched and found these.  Including fact sheets in case we need them."

Nick looked through the list, nodding slowly, then he smirked at Greg.  "This is good."

"It is and it mitigates the 98 percent he gave it."  He smiled sweetly.  "Where's Captain Brass?"

"Down in his office," he said.  "Let's go."  He walked Greg out to help him present it.  Xander jogged up to them and handed over a few more papers, then jogged back to his lab.  "Some days he's a lot like you in the lab, Grego."

"Yeah, I know," he said proudly, grinning at him.  "I like him, he's a nice guy.  Even though he's having a crappy week."  He tapped on the office door.

"Come in, Gil."

Greg stuck his head in.  "Not Gil but I'm the bearer of happy news.  Part of the system's back up."  Brass smirked at him.  "Xander also shot out fact sheets for us."  He handed the papers over, then the initial report.  "We use lighter ammo here."

"Hmm," he said as he read.  He looked it over.  "By serial and pin impression?"  Nick nodded.  "Oh, we can use this," he said happily.  "Let's go talk to our boy again.  Shall we?"

"We should," Greg agreed gleefully, following him out.  "Did you hear, Hodges' computer blew," he said as they headed up the hall.

"Ow," Nick said.  "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, started to smoke and fizzle.  It's fully dead," Greg told him.  "He's doing reports on Xander's but he can't really do much else until they bring him a new one.  All the search engines were on there."

"I'll make sure one's found as a replacement until we can really replace it," Brass promised.  "We rely too much on that lab."

***

Xander walked in the next night to a screaming match between Ecklie and Hodges in the halls.

"Well, if you'd get me a computer that works, I could do my job and not have to rely on another computer!" Hodges shouted.  "That piece of junk won't even connect to the search engine and you expect me to do what with it!  It's so old the dinosaurs think it's ancient!"

"It's the best we can do, you'll have to make due," Ecklie said firmly.  "It'll take two weeks for a new system to be shipped."

"Then I guess you're not getting much for two weeks then!" Hodges sneered.  "If I can't connect to my search engines all I get to do is pull samples and scope them or mass spec them."  He went back into his lab and slammed the door.

Ecklie glared that way then turned to find Xander in the hallway.  "You needed something?"

"You're in the way of my lab door, director.  I didn't want to rudely push past you."  He got out of the way.  "Thank you. Have a nice night."  Ecklie growled and stomped off.  Xander pulled out his laptop and walked it next door, tapping before entering.  "Here, try to plug this in, see if it'll help.  We can always transfer files off when you get a new one and it's not like I do more than surf for porn and play solitaire."

Hodges looked at him.  "Don't be so nice, kid."

Xander smirked.  "Think about who you just said that to, Hodges."  He waved the laptop.  "At least I know it can connect to the internet.  It's not the fastest, but it's got a LAN card."

"Thanks," he grumbled, taking it to try it out.  He nodded as it connected.  "Power cord?"

"In my bag."  He went to get it, bringing it back and the external mouse.  "I can't stand the mouse pad.  Here."  He took them and plugged them in.  "Just don't erase my porn, okay?" he asked with a grin.

"Fine, Xander.  Thank you."  He looked up at him.  "Are you already busy tonight?"  He nodded.  "Can I borrow you later?"

"If I can clear my inbox, I'm yours.  I told you that."  He went back to change into his labcoat and plug in a CD.  It had occurred to him that Bobby wasn't here to protest his comedy CD this time.  He got down to work at the first strains came on.

About twenty minutes later, Nick stopped outside the ballistics door and listened, then shook his head.  "What is that?" he demanded.

"Dennis Leary," Xander said absently.  "After this, it's Redneck jokes, so sorry if they relate."

"Xander, that's mean," Warrick said from the doorway.

Xander looked at him. "I fully admit I have some in my family."

"Me too," Nick admitted.  "I kinda find that one fun, but the song about, um, assholes, probably isn't appropriate."

He just got a wicked grin in response and a report being held out.

About thirty minutes later, Ecklie had to stop by.  "Harris, that is not appropriate," he said firmly.

Xander looked over at him.  "He's stating an opinion about his personal behavior.  Aren't we allowed to call ourselves names?"  He walked over to restart that song.  "See, it's about himself, not others."  He looked behind him.  "Sarah, I almost have a result for you.  Want to wait for the report?"

She listened to the song, then shook her head. "No thanks. I'll come back when it's the Blue Collar tour again."  She walked in, smirking at how Ecklie was starting to fume.

"Turn it off, Harris."

"Yes, sir."  He went to change CD's, turning on the one Sarah had wanted.  "How's that, sir?"

The fingerprint tech stuck her head in.  "Can I borrow that last one, Xander?"

"As long as I get it back.  Someone made a copy for my last birthday," he said, handing it over.

"Sure, dear.  You okay in here all by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  I won't go insane at all."

"Good.  Thanks for this."

"That's not appropriate for in the lab," Ecklie said firmly.  "I don't care about light music, but...."

"That's discrimination against those of us who don't listen to easy listening," Xander told him simply.  "If you try to take away all music but soft, light music then some of us will be napping on the job, director, plus some others will get really upset with you.  I could listen to country music if you preferred.  I've got some great stuff in my collection."

"Just don't play anything discriminatory," he ground out, walking off to complain to Grissom.

"Sure.  Even though I know people like that.  My drunken uncle was one."  He changed it and let her have that one too with a wink, putting in country music instead.  "Yee-haw."  He went back to finishing up his report for Sarah.

"You have better taste than that," Greg called from the hallway.  "I can't come in while you're polluting the air with stomp and dance and twirl your partner music, Xander."  Xander put it on pause and he stuck his head in.  "That guy pled.  He begged actually. Nice job.  Go back to your Nickish music."  He walked on, going back to smirking at the people wanting to pounce Xander for his taste in noise.  "Damn, I almost feel like finding a hat," he said as he walked past Ecklie.

"Xander, if you're going to listen to country, listen to classic country," Nick complained from the doorway.

"It's a compilation, Nick.  There's plenty of older and newer stuff."  He tossed him a report with a grin.  "There ya go, cowboy.  Now ride off."

Hodges walked in and turned off the stereo.  "No, Xander.  That's cruel.  Even Greg's anxiety attack music was better than that."

"Well, let's see what else I have," he offered, digging out his CD case to flip through it.  "We have GNR.  We have some other eighties metal.  We have some grunge, but not heavy grunge.  I like to sing along in my off-key way.  We have the disney songs which I still don't know where I got them from.  Hmm, we've got...ah," he said, handing one over.  "Change it for me?"

Hodges changed it and looked at it as it came on, then at Xander.  "That's even more evil.  I enjoy the hell out of you, Harris.  Hurry up, I need help."  He left, letting the disney songs play.

Nick shook his head.  "You're not right in the head, Xander," he said fondly.  He glanced down the hall, finding Ecklie storming this way.  "Thanks.  Good?"

"Wonderful.  Full match."  He nodded, going on.

Ecklie walked in and confiscated the stereo.  "That's not appropriate either."

"Disney can not offend anyone, Director.  It's happy songs about fantasy times when everyone's nice and sweet."  He took it back.  "Non discriminatory, just like you wanted.  No one can object to that."  He smiled sweetly.  "Besides, people want to smile and tap their foot to disney music."  He turned it to 'it's a small world' and let it play.  "It's either this, comedy albums that you didn't like, or music from the eighties hair bands that talk about sex a lot.  The country music unfortunately upset Hodges."

Ecklie's face turned purple and he grabbed his chest.  "Harris," he ground out.

"He's having a heart attack!" he yelled, helping him onto the floor and loosening his tie as others came in to help.  The paramedics gave him an odd look.  "He minded my comedy albums, he said it had to be something no one could complain about."

"No one can complain about disney music," he agreed.  They took Ecklie out in the ambulance, giving him oxygen and promising he'd be okay.

Brass looked at Xander, who was giving him a pitiful look.  "My wife had a puppy that looked the same way when he pissed on the carpet."

"Should I roll up a newspaper for you?" Xander offered pitifully.

"Just turn that shit off," Brass said.  "That's mean, Xander."

"Sorry."  He went to turn it off, putting in his Poison CD.  "Better?"

"Much.  Sex is always better than mental torture."  He closed the door on his way out.

Greg walked in a few minutes later and hugged him.  "I never managed that," he offered.  "I'm so proud!"  He walked out, closing the door behind him.

The sheriff came in a few minutes later, knocking politely.  Xander turned off the music and he came in.  "Mr. Harris.  Are you torturing director Ecklie?"

"No, he told me I had to listen to things that are non-discriminatory.  I was listening to Dennis Leary and then the Blue Collar comedy tour.  He hated those, made me turn them off.  I tried country but Hodges was bothered by it so I put in the most innocuous CD I had," he said honestly.  "Disney songs."

The sheriff looked at him.  "What did he do, kid?" he asked quietly.

"He hates me.  He always has.  I don't really do it on purpose.  Or at least I try very hard not to and I usually give Grissom fair warning if he's going to complain about me, like I did the day I got shot in the shoulder and had to change shirts."

"Fine, just try to make it nicer, Mr. Harris.  That was a bit obvious."

"He said...."

"I know.  Eighties metal music is better than some things.  I'd rather have people complain that you're listening to music that encourages sex than to have Disney songs all day long."  He left, going to talk to Grissom about making sure that boy was all right now.  "Gil.  That Harris boy. Is he all right?" he asked bluntly.  "I mean in the head."

"A bit stressed.  He's our intern, he's one of the ones that the payroll hasn't been fixed for.  He's got rent coming due.  I'm sure it was unintentional.  He did change it every time someone complained."

"I'm sure he did."  He smirked at him.  "How many in one day?"

"Six.  A new record.  Not even Greg's music getting too loud got that many complaints."

"Make sure the boy gets a day off and I'll try to get him his paycheck," he promised. "Ecklie should be fine but he'll probably need a few days off.  Can I count on you to keep the lab running smoothly?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, Gil."  He walked off, going to call the hospital to check on Ecklie and then call payroll.

Grissom stopped in the ballistics lab.  "Six in one day, a new record," he offered.  "No more disney music," he ordered.  Xander edged up the noise he was listening to.  "That's fine.  Sex is always better than disney."  He left, going to check on the other lab techs, one of which was blushing.  "I can have him change to another music CD," he offered.

"No, I'm good with that," she offered.  "Just a flashback to my anniversary, Grissom."  She smiled and held out a report.  "For you."

"Thanks."

She cleared her throat and pushed those memories aside, getting back to work.

Catherine stopped in with a new gun.  She looked at the stereo, then at him and his angelic grin.  "No grunge?"

"Light grunge," he offered.  "I got told I couldn't listen to country, comedy, or disney."

"Disney?" she asked, staring at him.  "Why?"

Hodges cleared his throat from the doorway.  "Because Director Ecklie had a heart attack," he said, smirking meanly at her.  "As long as it's not country, I don't care what you play."

Catherine went over to fingerprints.  "Jean, do you care what Xander plays in his lab?"

"No, actually I was having flashbacks.  My first year anniversary was a Poison concert and then an orgy."  Xander let out a wicked chuckle.  "Basically, yeah.  I didn't mind his comedy CD's at all.  I've been playing them quietly in here.  Ecklie really did turn purple and collapse at disney songs.  He told Xander to play something non-discriminatory and something no one could complain about."

"Disney is that," Catherine admitted.  "He had a real heart attack?"  She nodded, smirking at her.  "Good!"  She went off to check with Grissom, getting a short note from Xander since it was stuck on his door.  "I knew that."

"Then you also know the spring is missing and the firing pin is broken," he called.  "Want me to do a replace and fire?"

"Please, just in case."

"Sure."

Catherine went up to the breakroom, where everyone else was.  "Disney made him have a heart attack?"

"He probably had bad memories of being scared by Chip and Dale as a kid," Greg snorted.  "He still doing fluffy metal?"

"Yup, still is.  We should send a card."  Nick pushed one down so she added her signature.  "Thanks.  Who's delivering it?"

"Sarah," everyone said.  She wasn't there.  She got volunteered.

"We vetoed Greg's idea to let Xander go so he could apologize," Warrick offered dryly, pushing down the container of chinese food.  "Where is wonder boy?"

"I just handed him a non-working gun," she said, sitting down to dig into her lunch.  "Xander?" she called after she heard the muted 'fuck'.  He was the only one who really swore.

He came out rubbing his chest.  "Ran into the doorway."  He handed over the report and picture.  "Match it and bring it to me."

"Sure.  Thank you, Xander. Did you retape it?"

"With the shot in there in an envelope and dated," he offered.  "Plus a note about what was wrong with the gun."  He flopped down, still rubbing his chest.  "There are days when I wish I still had two eyes.  I hate running into things."

"I'm betting Doc Robbins has that same feeling now and then," Warrick offered.

"Yeah, we got into one of those discussions the other day," he admitted.   "During that one guy who tried to cut his own foot off."  He slumped down some more.  "Are we done?  If so, I should help Hodges."

"No, he just went home," Catherine offered.  "He had a migraine."

"I'm hoping it wasn't the music."  Xander looked toward the trace and ballistics lab.  "I should go check and see if he's got anything done yet," he offered, getting up with a groan.

"He can do it, Xander," Nick assured him.

"He's backed up because of the loss of his computer," Xander retorted.  "He asked me to help but I got too backed up."  He shrugged and went back to the lab to look at what was left.  Mostly the easy stuff, which he was more than capable of doing.  Within three hours he had most everything cleared up and reports at least started giving the basic details and any chemical analysis he had done.  He saved everything down in a special folder named 'reports in progress' and then saved the system and shut it down.  He checked the tables, they were clear.  The desk was clear.  Everything was clear for when he came in.  He went to clock out and head home, tired beyond all belief now.  Maybe he could sleep without too many nightmares.

***

Hodges walked in and saw his lab was perfectly spotless.  "The day shift girl caught me up?" he asked, looking amazed.

"No, Xander caught you up," Greg said from behind him.  "You're blocking."  Hodges moved out of the way so Greg could put two bags and a box on his worktable.  "Not priority but needed to be done.  Thanks, Hodges."

"Your, um, welcome," he said, staring at everything.  He walked over to turn on the computer, finding that folder sitting on the desk top.  The reports were enough that he could fill in the spots and all the chemical analysis sheets were clearly marked, labeled, and in a folder under the samples Xander had done.  "Wow," he said, sitting down to work on the first few reports.  It was all organized so he could slip in easily and finish everything.  He even got to Greg's stuff within an hour and was finishing it when Grissom came in.  "Where's Xander?  I haven't heard the stereo going."

"He has tonight off," he reminded him.  "I told him to stay on-call in case we need him.  He's got a pager now."  He looked around.  "Are you caught up?"

"Xander subbed in last night."

"I knew that.  That wasn't what I asked."

"Mostly.  I have to double-check the reports he started and then check for spelling and grammar before I print them."

"That's fine.  Take as much time as you need until another big case comes in.  Whose laptop?"

"Xander's."

"Good.  The boy earns his place very well.  I'm sure whichever department he ends up in will be thrilled with him."

"Can he stay?"

"We only need one night shift ballistics tech," Grissom reminded him.  "Unless Bobby has to stay home to help his mother, and the day shift double doesn't want it, no.  I wish, but no."

"Fine.  Let me be spoiled for a year by having help when I need it."  Grissom smirked at that and walked off.  Hodges went back to double-check those reports, knowing someone was going to get impatient and uppity with him soon.  They always were.  He heard running footsteps and grimaced, glancing down the halls to find the cops running for the front entrance.  "What now?  He's not even here tonight."  He looked at Nick as he came running.  "What's going on?"

"Domestic dispute between a cop and her husband.  She's beating the snot out of him."  He hurried off to help.  He knew her and could hopefully calm her down again.

Hodges shook his head.  "It's not going to be a boring week by any means."  He got back to work, finding Xander's methodology very calming and forthright.  It was perfectly notated and organized.  A few had some bad spelling mistakes but by then the guy must have been half asleep.  It had been dated ten am.  Well into his usual nap cycle.  He looked up at more running feet, this time the junior ME was running with a bag.  "Ooh, someone's going to lose her badge," he sighed.  "Glad I'm not in that."

Warrick stuck his head in.  "I'm working with Greg on that picnic rape case.  Do we think it'll be done by end of shift?"

"Probably," he offered.  "What am I looking for?"

"The usual.  Hair, fibers.  DNA already had a go with it thanks to Greg. The rest should be your stuff.  No Xander?"

"Grissom said he had tonight off."

"Poor guy probably needs it.  He was here when I left."  He went to check in and see if there was another case coming up.  Someone had to collect evidence when the ambulance took people away.  Nick was up there but that didn't mean he'd get to do it since he was involved.

Hodges shook his head. "They're all insane," he noted, going back to his work.  His phone rang about an hour later.  "Trace," he answered. He heard the tired voice.  "No, he has tonight off, Bobby.  How's your mom?"  He listened.  "No, he's been good.  He helped me when my computer blew and everything.  Made sure I got caught up again.  No, he got called to help stop a rampaging imbecile last night out front who was trying to hurt cops.  No, he's at home.  No answer, huh?  Hmm.  Well, maybe we'll swing by after shift.  Sure.  Hold on, everyone's out in the hall.  Grissom!" he yelled, putting the receiver against his chest.  He stuck his head in.  "Bobby."  He held it out.

Grissom came in to take it.  "How is she?"  He listened and smiled.  "That's good though, right?"  He nodded.  "No, he's doing fine.  I'm checking over his shoulder.  No, nothing too tragic."

"Only if you actually *like* Ecklie," Hodges said dryly.

"That's true, I had forgotten.  Ecklie had a small heart attack yesterday.  He didn't like Xander's music.  No, he's off tonight.  I don't know.  Want me to page him and have him call your cell?  He should be.  No, he's fine.  He pulled some overtime last night to help Hodges."  He listened.  "No, his own decision. I didn't demand," he said, not showing that Hodges's surprised look surprised him.  "I didn't even ask.  He just filled in.  Everyone else was having breakfast and he went back to work.  Sure.  No, he's good, Bobby.  Don't worry about it.  Come back when you can.  We can cover for you.  No, we've mostly got that fixed.  We think we found your personnel file.  The sheriff is.  Sure, I'll pass that on."  He took a pen and some clean paper off the desk, writing down the phone number.  "Sure.  I'll pass that on.  Thanks for letting us know, I'll pass around the good news.  Be safe."  He hung up.  "His mother is fine but it was cancerous so they're starting her on immediate treatments.  He might not be back for six months."  He went to call the sheriff to update him, letting him know and giving him Bobby's phone number down there so he could talk to him about the paycheck and file problem.

Hodges finished up and went to pump Greg for information.  "No one asked Xander to fill in for day shift?"

"No," he said, taking his report, giving him a little look.  "Xander said he promised you he'd help you catch up and he went in there to work for a few hours.  I think he got the one case from this morning started too, but it was in Chem the last I knew."

"Wow.  You don't see that much," he said, still looking confused.

"That's the sorta guy Xander is," Greg pointed out.  "He's one of those loyal guys, like I am."  He shrugged at the odd look he got.  "Need more help or did he catch you up?"

"No, I'm down to your case unless something else comes in.  I'm still running the last one through to check for odd fibers."

"Thanks, Hodges.  Let me know if I can help.  You helped me a lot when DNA blew up on me.  I can return the favor."  He walked off, heading to tell Warrick what they knew so far.  It wasn't much but it was a start.

Hodges went back to his lab, considering it.  He'd have to treat Xander to lunch some day soon.  As long as the kid didn't try to shove it back into his face or ask for favors.  Most of them would but for some reason he didn't think Xander would do it on purpose like Nick or Catherine would.  He settled in to work and think, making sure everything was going well.  Nick brought in samples from the fight and he pointed at a clear spot.  "There, you're next."

"That's fine.  By shift's end if possible.  Her badge is riding on it.  He tried to take her gun from her before she could use it on him so she grabbed Brass's gun."

"Ouch," Hodges winced, going back to what he had been doing.  "I'll do my best."

"Thanks, man."  He left, going to check in DNA, where he had left a few other things. Something was not right about this case and he wasn't sure what yet.

***

Xander woke up when someone pounded on his door, trudging out there to open it.  His landlord was standing there, waving the money order he had paid with.  "What?  They're always good."

"Maybe.  That's a bit low, Harris."

"Sorry.  At least I had some of it," he defended.  "It's not my fault there's a Federal problem tangling up the intern paychecks.  They've promised to try to pay us by next week instead."

"Fine.  Don't get behind."  He stomped off.

"Yes, sir," he sighed, slamming the door again.  Someone knocked and he opened it, finding Hodges and a small bag there.  "Hey, didn't see you."

"I was being invisible so I didn't get drawn in. Want lunch?"

"Sure."  He let him inside and went to get a soda.  "Want coffee?"

"No thanks.  Greg made some earlier and I'm maxed out on caffeine.  Water?"

"Pitcher's in the fridge," he offered.  "Glasses are the plastic things beside the fridge."

"Thanks."  He went to get himself some ice water then came back to dish out food.  "You didn't have to."

"I know.  I promised I'd help and I did.  You needed me and that's the kinda guy I am," he noted dryly.  "As the redhead who came to threaten my calm and peaceful life showed."

"Who was she?"

Xander pointed at the picture behind him.  "Her."

He got up to look at them.  "Willow?" he read off the frame.

"Yup.  Best friends since first day of school."  He grimaced.  "Even though she used me, hated me, made fun of me, and made my life all but worthless at times.  Again, the sorta guy I am," he said at the long look his buddy gave him.  "Thanks for this, man.  I'll treat when I actually get paid."

"Not an issue."  He sat down, looking at him.  "Why didn't you leave them?"

"Because I was working for the side of good and it needed me, even if those two and the guy I staked didn't want to see me helping them," he said simply.  "Besides, that was all I knew. That and how to build houses.  I started to move to Florida to work after one of the hurricanes but they decided I was being kidnaped and locked me in a basement for three days."

"Did you file charges?"

"With who?  The police didn't acknowledge we existed.  The group was behind the girls doing that to me.  They thought I was being controlled by something.  They didn't see the real Xander person.  They probably still don't see the real Xander person."  His pager went off and he looked at it, calling the station.  "Better be good," he said in greeting.  "No, I'm having lunch with Hodges.  Yay, Nick.  What?"  He listened.  "Sounds like a Luger.  Compact model, fits in the palm of your hand."  He frowned at Hodges when he moved.  "You, sit."  He listened again.  "They usually only come in black and silver, man.  Sure.  Leave it on the table and I'll get it tonight.  You know where my inbox is.  Nick, I do have a scheduled night off," he said patiently.  "Yeah, well, I haven't had one in the last four weeks, so therefore I'm not.  Leave it on my desk and I'll come in early to run it.  Then take it up with Gris, Nick. He said I could have the night off."  He hung up and looked at him.  "Do they do that to you?"

"No, they take me for granted.  Like I'm activated to life by them coming into my lab."

"Really?  You seem like you have a life to me."

"I do, not that they'd ever know.  Do you have any hobbies?"

"No time recently.  Range practice, rereading bomb manuals.  Getting into the field journals.  I'll grow one eventually.  Do you?"

"I do banzai trees at home.  It's very relaxing."

"Growing things make me nervous," Xander admitted.  "I tend to kill them.  I'll stay away from the pretty and delicate trees if I come over some day."

"They're pretty hearty," he assured him, smirking at him.

"Yeah, but I've got supernatural powers to kill trees."  He checked the line, making sure it was hung up, but the beeping continued.  "What is that?"

"Your cellphone.  You changed the ringtone the night my computer blew up."

"Crap."  He headed into the bedroom with his sandwich in his mouth.  He grunted as he answered.  "Yeah, Gris, I told him that.  Because you said I get a night off.  I told him what to look for."  He walked back out there, stretching out again.  "I'm sorry I was rude to him, Grissom, but I haven't had a night off in four weeks.  You promised I could have tonight off.  I even told him I'd come in early tomorrow if he found something after I told him what he was looking for.  Including relative size and model."  He listened.  "Fine, I'll apologize tomorrow," he sighed.  "I won't snap at him again."  He rolled his eyes.  "Sure.  Yeah, tomorrow.  Because tonight I'm probably going to go sell my car or a non-vital organ.  Later."  He hung up before he could respond and made sure that one was hung up.  "I'd turn them off but I'm on call in case SWAT gets another bomb and the bomb guy's out of touch."

"Not an issue.  We all have days like that. You do deserve a day off now and then.  We all do.  I had one recently.  Greg's the only one I know who didn't."

"Greg had off last Saturday.  He went home, turned off everything electronic, and slept.  They're running him like a dog."

"He volunteered and begged to go into the field," Hodges pointed out dryly.  "The rest of us lab people don't know why."

"It's his dream," he said with a one-sided shrug before taking another bite of his sandwich.  "You gotta live 'em while you're young," he philosophized once he had chewed and swallowed.  "Otherwise life is one big regret when you're too old to move and too slow to bungee jump."

"You're really selling your car?"

"Yeah, I'll kinda need to.  I've got rental on my storage place, I've got my rent here.  I've got utility payments."

"Here?"

"Yeah, here," he said dryly.

"You need to find a better place to live, Xander."

"I would but I'm not here past my internship," he pointed out.  "The rest of the places I looked at wanted multi-year leases.  Or they wanted me to be a college student or pay outrageously."

"That is true, rent is nasty around here," Hodges agreed bitterly.  "I pay nearly a grand for my two bedroom place, but I don't have to pay utilities."

"Most of the places I looked at were a grand to twelve hundred. Way beyond my stipend."

"Ask Greg, he just moved and he claimed he only pays about eight hundred," Hodges told him.  "Or look at other motels.  There's got to be something better for you.  Even if you end up at one of those cheesy motels on the strip for the rest of your time here."

"Yeah, maybe," he admitted. He stretched and looked at the clock.  "You're gonna get yelled at."

"Yay.  I'm done.  I even did Nick's rush job.  One of the cops and her husband got into it over their custody agreement in the entry. One of them got shot."

"Ooooh," Xander winced.  "Is that what Nick wanted?"

"No, he was out on a drive by."  They both looked at Xander's phone as it rang.  "You might as well."

Xander sighed but flipped it open.  "Yeah?  What? You wanted me to answer it 'Harris house of no sleep'?" he asked dryly.  "Greg," he mouthed, making Hodges nod.  "No, I'm okay, just tired.   Hey, do you know any cheap places to move to?  Hodges thinks I'm being cheated here.  No, a grand a month.  Plus electric and cable."  He winced.  "Really?  How bad is it?"  He nodded, writing that down.  "Thanks, man.  Sure. I'll invite you over and all that.  No, I told Nick, it's probably a Luger, which should fit in the palm of his hand.  They're almost always black or silver.  Yeah, one of those.  Yup, that sounds like it's it.  Sure.  Laters."  He hung up and looked at him.  "He did know some place."

"See, I told you so.  Greg seems to know an awful lot of people, especially that he's dated."

"Really?  When does he have time to date?"

"I don't know," Hodges admitted.  "He had more time as the DNA tech."  He shrugged.  "You need to sleep if you haven't."

"I'll do it soon," Xander promised.  "Let me call these guys and do that, then I'll see if I can sell my car after I move."  He stretched again.  "Then I'll nap."

"Fine.  As long as you don't crash and you do sleep, Xander.  You're going to get sick and then who'd I talk to for intelligent conversation?"

Xander sniffled.  "That's the nicest compliment I've gotten in about eight years," he admitted honestly.  He hugged him.  "Thank you."  He wandered off to his bedroom.  "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure," he agreed, watching him walk off.  "Someone needs to kill his friends.  Now I know why others go bad and want to hurt them for him."  He cleaned up their mess and left, heading back to work.  He walked into his lab and found Brass in there looking at a report.  "Yes, that's probably yours and Nick's."

"How's the kid?"

"Tired, being cheated at his current place since he's paying utilities and rent.   He claims he's moving and then selling his car.  I just had lunch with him."

"Grissom said you did.  He okay?  He no longer snapping at people?"

Hodges shut the door.  "Captain Brass, when was your last day off?"

"Last Sunday."

"His was the day before he started here.  He works more hours than Greg does and he's a lab tech.  No one demands that he does this, but he does.  He deserves the right to snap at people who deserve it."

"Good point," he agreed phlegmatically.  "It's still not very PC and it did hurt Nick's feelings."

"I just told him he had to keep from getting sick so I had someone intelligent to talk to.  He said that's the nicest thing anyone's said to him in eight years and he looked like he was being honest.  Nick can leap.  He's capable of looking for a gun."

"He is.  He'll still have to make nice."

"No, he doesn't.  He's a lab tech.  A ballistics lab tech who can do trace.  We don't push the rest of us to do those sort of hours.  Now, someone has to talk to Grissom to get him to start counting hours.  You want that or should I?"

"You're protective over the kid?"

"He's just a kid."

"He's not actually."

"Yeah, he is. He's got a Nemo pillow on his couch. For all that he's twenty-six and three- quarters, he's still a kid.  Nick knows what a gun looks like."

"Point," Brass admitted.  "So, why do you like the kid?"

"Because he's decent, he doesn't play politics, and he likes me."

"Fine, I'll leave it there but I will have a word with Gil about his hours.  You're right, he works too hard.  Tell him to check at that place where Mercury hangs out.  It's decent inside but a scummy neighborhood."

"Sure."  He let him out and handed him the report.  "You forgot it."

"Thanks."  He headed down the hall, tapping on the lab Grissom was working in.  "That kid has some pretty strong defenders."

"Why?" he asked absently.

"How many hours did you authorize for him a week?"  Grissom looked at him.  "Seriously."

"That's why I made him take the day off."

"Gil, he was here when *you* went home this morning."

"He was."  He looked at his watch.  Then he looked at him.  "He's getting in at normal time?"  Brass nodded.  "That means he pulled a fifteen hour shift."

"No, really?" Brass asked sarcastically.  "About his third this week."

"I'm checking his time card."

"Hodges pointed out something.  He's not a field tech intern, like Sanders, who works like a dog I might add.  He's a lab tech, Gil."

"He is and it's unfair that he's been doing so many hours."  He went to pull up the time cards, frowning at what he counted.  He pulled up a calculator to make sure, then called the boy.  "How did you work seventy hours in the last week, Xander?"  He heard the snort and then the phone was hung up.  He called back.  "Xander, that was impolite."  He heard the quiet words and sighed.  "I'm sorry, Xander.  No, we will be talking about your hours.  There's no reason...."  He shook his head.  "No. You're a lab tech, you're not supposed to work field hours.  I don't care.  Yes, and you still don't get overtime."  He groaned and held his head.  "I'll straighten him out.  You're an intern, not God.  Finish your nap and come in tomorrow.  Fine I'll do that for you.  Have a good rest."  He hung up and checked Greg's hours.  He found a few more and groaned, shaking his head.  He was doing more hours than he was.  Not good.  "I'll talk to him tomorrow.  We'll fix both their schedules."

***

Xander strolled in the next morning looking somewhat rested, wearing new clothes and sunglasses.  "Turned?" Greg joked.

"I wish," he moaned, shaking his head.  "Throbbing ass headache."  He took his messages and looked through them.  "Where is the boss?" he asked, smiling weakly at their receptionist.

"His office. Did you get a summons too?  Mine was to wait for you and drag you in there."

"Yay.  Let's go."  He walked off, stopping in the lab to gather his jacket and glasses, then in Hodges's to check on him.  "I think I caught your headache."

"Drinking?" he teased.

"Hell no.  Sleep."  He took Greg's arm and walked off with him.  "Since you're to escort me and all."  He waved and headed off.

Greg knocked and walked in, playfully pulling Xander.  "One lab tech, as ordered.  Should I go hunt and tie down another one for you?"

Grissom smiled at them.  "You both look well rested.  Xander, hangover?"

"Headache from sleeping."  He shut the door and flopped down in his usual sprawl.  "Okay, we're here.  Why?  New case?"

"No, too many hours," he said plainly.  Greg flinched.  "I know you need the practice and experience.  I know we're pushing you, Greg, but you did nearly eighty hours last week and you did do eighty the week before."

Xander nudged him.  "Getting good, and pretty soon people will look around and wonder why you're not there."

"Yeah, that's my master plan," he agreed.  "Making myself indispensable."

"You are, Greg. You're also about out of overtime for the year.  Sixty to seventy a week, max, Greg."

"Yes, sir," he complained.  "You keep sending me out."

"Greg," he said patiently.

"Yes, Grissom."

"Thank you.  Xander, you're not even a field tech," he said with a small smile.  "Yet, you've almost matched his hours.  The last week has had forty-five extra hours."  Xander nodded slowly.  "It's Wednesday and you don't get overtime."

"Yeah, but I also get Ecklie going 'here, you don't get overtime, process this to spare the budget so we can afford Hodges' new computer' and 'here, you're the ballistics tech, see what's wrong with my gun'.  I felt like telling him it was the user, not the machine."

"Archie has told the sheriff that in the past," Greg offered.  "He blew his video camera."

"I remember, I also remember his suspension for it," Grissom said patiently.  "Xander, you're not supposed to be doing more than full time hours.   I know we're stretching it with Bobby being out...."

"I don't mind, Grissom, but even I need a day off now and then."

"Yes, and you're getting one once a week, which you'll take," he said firmly.  "The same as you can do no more than twenty hours a week in Trace.  That's sixty hours.  You're not allowed more than that and I'm increasing your stipend because you are doing full time instead of the part-time you're supposed to be doing.  You were only supposed to do thirty hours a week, Xander."

"Yay, you needed me.  I've always been a 'jump in' kinda guy."

"Which is wonderful and we adore you for it," Grissom told him.

"But if you get sick, we're SOL and you're going to be yelled at by a few people.  I agree, Xander.  You're not to make yourself sick.  We want to have fun with you, not bury you."

Xander looked over the top of his glasses at him.  "Greg, the hosts of hell couldn't do it and I'm used to working all hours on a demanding job, then going to school.  This is nothing.  I just needed a day off."  He looked at Grissom. "I'm bussing it for the next little while.  My car was about to go anyway."

"Fine.  There's a stop outside the building.  I heard you were moving.  Did you get that all done?"

"I only had a trunk's worth of stuff, Grissom," he complained.  "I fit very neatly into one of those almost-a-motel that you can rent an efficiency at and not have to pay bills.  It's cheaper too."  He looked at Greg.  "I've got good cable and pay per view."

"Good.  I'll remember that during the next good concert."  He punched him on the arm.  "Even if you were working in a big department and running it like Bobby does, you'd still only be doing fifty to sixty a week, Xander.  You can slow down now and enjoy the city."

"Why would I want to enjoy the strippers?  I dated one of those, she became a serial killer."  He stood up.  "Anything else, Grissom?"

"Xander," he said impatiently, staring up at him.  "You'll follow this order.  I mean it."

"Yes, sir," he sighed, walking out and heading back to his lab.  He found Nick in there.  "You find it for me?"

"Yeah," he sighed, handing it over.  "Greg did."

He looked at him.  "I didn't want to snap at you but you were kinda being a moron magnet and drawing the moron vibe to you."

Nick nodded.  "I was.  I'm sorry."

"Not an issue.  Gris just told me I'm not allowed to work that long."  He looked it over, looking down the barrel.  "Dirty, very very dirty.  Someone was a naughty triggerman."  He checked the clip.  "Reloaded?"

"No, same load it had," he offered.  "I already counted bullets and I was about to do a test fire."

"Sure.  Out."

"Going.  Page me?"  Xander gave him a look and he grinned. "Thanks, man, I left you a CD for when Hodges won't complain."  He hurried off, going back to the rest of his evidence.

Xander shook his head and put on his ear muffs.  "Firing one!" he shouted, firing.  He yelped at the misfire, dropping the gun into the funnel and waving his hand around.  Grissom came in, looking concerned.  "It backfired.  I think it fired two at once."  He waved his hand, looking it over.  "Nothing too bad.  Heated, barely creased."  He opened the tank and looked, then looked at his boss.  "A rare double fire.  Someone used this earlier and is probably in pain."

"I'll take it to DNA to get a swab," he promised, taking it carefully out of the funnel.  It discharged again and Xander ducked, but nothing ricocheted out.  "You all right?"

"Fine, but that's one gun for idiots."

"We'll get this one," he promised, taking it.  "Give me details on the bullet and why."

Nick came back.  "You all right?"

"Double fire."

"Crap," he muttered.  "But it could be good.  You okay?"  He looked at the kid's hand.  "You should get that looked at."

"I'm fine.  It's nothing unusual.  I've been burned in the past."  He peeled off his gloves and went to soak his hand for a few minutes.  "Go ahead and retrieve them.  I'll differentiate if I can."

"Sure, Xander."  He retrieved the two bullets.  "Only two slugs."

"Yeah, that's the most likely cause.  The old casing didn't come out and the new one was slotted as much as it could be."  He came over, grabbing a new set of gloves.  "Then Gris tried to pull it out of the funnel and it went off again."  He looked under the scope, tapping the one on the left.  "That's your match slug, the other one is crimped and bad."

"Thanks, Xander. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine.  It happens to all of us.  Do I have something to match it to?"  Nick nodded, finding that bullet and handing the envelope over.  Xander slotted it next to the good bullet, then nodded, letting him see.  "Perfect match."

"Yes," he said happily.  He patted him on the arm.  "Thanks, Xander."  He hurried out to tell the detective and get him to check the ER's for anyone who had a similar burn on their hands.  They'd be in just as much pain.  It was only a hopeful thing that it had happened twice, but he could deal with that.  Any hope was better than none.

Greg strolled in and grabbed Xander by the arm, walking him out and back to the coroner's office.  "David, can you look at his hand?"

"I'm fine, it was a double fire," he complained.  The younger ME came over to look at his hand, taking the glove off him.  "See, I'm fine.  Just a bit bruised."

"It is, you should probably ice it now so it won't swell too much, Xander.  You all right?"

"I'm fine. This one didn't shoot off pieces and hit me with the slide or anything.  Tell him I'm fine."

"Actually, I think you're adorable," he offered with a grin.  "Especially when you're being so tough."

"Thanks, David, but I could never date a man as smart as you.  You'd make me feel inadequate."

"Enough horsing around," Doc Robins interrupted as he came in.  He looked at Xander's hand.  "Are you all right?"

"Fine.  It double fired."

"Ah.  I saw Bobby's hand when he did that.  Go get him some ice, Greg."

"Yes, sir."  He drug Xander back to the break room and got him some ice and a baggie, putting one inside the other so he could have a nice ice pack.  "There, now go stare at odd things to make Nick pant and happy like a puppy again."  He gave him a swat.  "No more getting hurt."

"This is nothing, Greg."

"Yay.  Remember, that's your former life, not your present one."

Xander nodded, heading back to his lab to get back to work and ice his hand.   His phone rang a few minutes later so he put it on speaker.  "Yes, dear?"

"Xander?" Mia, the DNA tech asked.

"Princess Mia, how may your humble and delicately bruised knight help you this evening?"

"I need a DNA sample to rule you out."

"I'm not bleeding anywhere."

"Still it's a formality."

"Sure.  Be right over."  He saved what he was working on and headed over there, letting her do the mouth swab she wanted.  "Ah," he said as he walked in.  She swabbed his cheeks with a smile.  "Better?" he asked.

"Much."  She looked at his hand.  "Remember, fifteen minutes on, the rest of the hour off," she said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed, heading back to his lab. He found Brass in there.  "Captain, I adore you, but my hand is fine and I'm not that delicate. You don't need to come check on me too."

"I'm not," he offered, glancing at his hand.  "You'll be fine. It's only a bruise."  He looked at him.  "I'm the one who intervened to get your hours cut, kid.  You're worn out."

Xander frowned at him.  "I should hit you for that.  I'm used to doing more than this. I just hadn't had a day off in a month."

"So?  You're not allowed to. You don't have to.  You need to be fun and go play.  Las Vegas is the city for playing in."

Xander gave him a long stare.  "Captain, there's no one here I want to play with," he noted dryly, giving him an patient look, the one he had gotten off Grissom.  "Why would I want someone to pick me up?  Do you really like running background checks to make sure they're not going to kill you all?"

"I'm sure you can find one unevil woman in this city."

"They'd never like me so why bother," he said dryly, sitting down to look at him.  "Besides, I'm used to much longer hours.  I just got a day off every two weeks."

"Still, it's not healthy."

"So says the guy who put in ninety hours last week," he said dryly. "Who's closer to a heart attack than I'll ever be.  Shouldn't we be having a talk about pots and kettles and all that?"

"No, because if you end up like me, you'll be a miserable guy like I am.  Do you really wanna have a drinking problem?"

"No, it doesn't seem like that much fun. I got to watch both parents and an uncle with theirs."  Brass gave him a dirty look.  "Truth."  He shrugged a bit.  "It's nothing to me, Captain.  I'll slow down some year but if I lose my stamina now, I'll never get it back."

"If you don't, you're going to have to share a room with Ecklie at the hospital after your first heart attack.  See, I've been watching you, kid.  You've hardly been eating, not sleeping very well, and you're exhausted."

He shut the door and looked at him.  "Captain, Jim, when my eye was popped, I spent an overnight in the hospital.  They took it out.  We walked into my hellmouth a week later to do battle with millions of creatures.  Me, the blonde, the redhead, and about twelve others.  I went from that battle to going to LA and hopping into a battle on their grounds, then going to Cleveland to help with one there, then back to LA to join with their team for good after my friends insulted me.  All within a month.  Without stopping.  I may not be twenty- one anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm old and slow.  This is nothing to me at this moment in time.  Later, this could be hell on my body and I'll gladly slow down and teach someone as cocky and bad ass as I am."  Brass smirked at that.  "I will.  Or if you ever have a kid who wants to become a ballistic tech, I'll gladly teach them.  I like you and we'd probably get along well in here if you wanted to switch fields."

"My kid's a bit old and doesn't live on this side of the law," he admitted quietly.

"It's hard to do," Xander agreed.  "Some people can't give up things for others's welfare and comfort."

"True, and she never understood that.  Maybe that was my fault."

"No matter how much you love her, you can't make her understand, Jim."

"Point, kid.  Still, off the topic," he noted smugly, realizing what he was doing.  "Smooth, I'll give you that."

"Good, then give me the benefit of the doubt.  I do have a clue about what I can and can't do.  Besides, if I look superhuman, I'll get a better job."

"True, but you guys are in pretty good demand."

"So?"

"Point, kid, but still," he said quietly.  "You worry Grissom.  Worrying Grissom means that he can't solve as many things.  Beyond that, it's odd to see Hodges stick up for someone else."

"He did?"

"He did.  So did Sanders.  So let's just try to work the lesser hours for a few weeks, okay?  Surely a young guy like you can find something to do in his off hours?  Like learn to cook?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I had too much trouble with chemistry."  Brass snorted and shook his head.  "I'll try but I'm needed here until Bobby comes back. I'm not making him come back until he's sure his mother doesn't need him."

"Which is noble, and in-line with what I heard about your past, kid, but still.  Not even I work as many hours as you did last week.  What did he have you doing?"

"Let's see.  The sheriff's gun was jammed.  He needed to clean it desperately.  Ecklie said that there was something wrong with the count of stuff we had in here so I got to do the inventory all by myself a few days ago.  All the cases, the database."

"We got that back."

"Um, no," Xander offered.  "But I do have it pinpointed.  I figured it out earlier.  I was going to ask to speak to you later."  He found the file he was working on in his backpack and handed it over.  "Someone in protective custody.  I borrowed the former backup from two months ago and compared the names on the files.  Then I googled his name.  We're in for a fight on this one, Captain."

"That's well done, Xander.  Used to research?"

"It was one of the many roles I played in my group," he admitted.  "Because of that, I can read Latin."  Brass just shook his head.  "I think if you have someone officially compare last month's backup to the current system you'll find thirty-two files missing.  Most of them his and any mention of anything related to him but three.  Those three I'm not sure how they're related or if they just got caught.  Why they decided to pick on us poor ballistics techs I'm not sure.  Maybe because the guy's a shooter.  So therefore, I leave it in your more than capable hands while you let me run the lab with an evil chuckle and the intention of making everyone here listen to decent comedy records."  He opened the door.  "There you go," he said fondly, smirking at him. "Happy collating."

"How did you do this?"

"Easy, I uploaded it into Access and sorted by name, then printed the two lists of just names and crossed out each one I came to plus the current cases.  It left me with a few."

"Ah.  Thanks, kid."  He walked out, taking the file to the sheriff, who was lurking just up the hall.  "The kid figured out which files are missing," he announced.  "He checked it against an older backup file."

"Really?  Can we pinpoint it?"

"And the cause," he said smugly.  "He's good."  He looked at him.  "The kid's an intern, not a packmule and not a superhero, Sheriff.  He got his first day off this month."

"Fine.  You think he'd be willing to help me with my gun again?"

Xander stuck his head out of the lab.  "Clean it," he said slowly and clearly.  "It's the majority of the problem.  That and a bending firing pin."

"That's probably it.  Thank you, Mr. Harris."

"I live to please but I'd better have a paycheck this week," he said happily.  "Especially since I reuploaded those files again."  He ducked back into the lab, going back to what he had been doing until Mia called him back to the DNA lab a few minutes later.  "What's up?  Not come out as human?"

"No, but I ran it and came up with a paternity warrant," she said, giving him a long stare.

"That's odd considering I'm infertile," he said dryly.  He looked at it, then glared.  "Oh, someone's so going to be dead."  He pulled out his cellphone and dialed the department on the warrant.  "Hi, I'm a ballistics tech in Vegas and I just had to do a DNA test to rule me out and there's a paternity warrant through you?" he demanded.  "What the fuck are you people playing at?  I'm fucking well infertile," he demanded.  "Yeah, you'd better fucking well straighten this out.  Really?  Name the mother.  Harris.  Xander Harris.  No, that's not me.  No, it's not.  I know quite well who I am, thank you," he spat.  "Now, either release it to us here in Vegas so I can track down the supposed mother, who I can guarantee isn't having *my* kid since I'm still infertile and I have been since I was twenty."  He listened.  "No I'm not going to calm down, you moron magnet!  Do I give a shit!" he said coldly.  "I'm still infertile.  Prove it.  I want documents and a new test done.  Well, fortunately I do.  Fine, I will.  You'd better be here by tomorrow, lady.  Or else."  He hung up and looked at her.  "Someone's trying to fuck in my life again," he said sweetly, kissing her on the cheek.  "Thank you for finding that for me."  He walked past the crowd and outside, letting out a scream of rage.

Mia looked back at them.  "I ruled him out of the DNA sample on the gun," she said weakly.  "It came up with a paternity warrant."

"Why is he infertile?" Grissom asked.  "Xander!"

"Not now, boss, I'm stressing.  Can we please borrow Mia and the lab?  Or should I find somewhere?"

"I'll allow it this time," the sheriff offered.  "I want to know what's going on," he told Brass.

"You and me both, and apparently him too."  He looked at him. "Any idea who?"

"Not a clue," he said flatly, glaring at a nearby wall.  "Whoever is playing this game with my life had better come begging for mercy soon," he said sweetly, heading back into his own lab.  He went back to work, needing to wear out the stress and energy.

Grissom looked at everyone.  "We'll handle it and let him know what's going on.  He'll tell you I'm sure."

"I didn't think he'd be a deadbeat dad," Sarah said, looking upset.

"I doubt he knew by the way he was swearing," Mia pointed out impatiently. "Considering he just let loose on a law enforcement official that way, I'd guess someone's got some explaining to do since he thinks he's infertile."

"Yeah, I'd hate to be whoever set him up," Warrick agreed.

Nick shuddered.  "I'm sure someone would save them, eventually."

"Not likely," Greg said from behind them.  "I'm not.  Hodges, you wanna save whoever put in a paternity warrant against Xander?"

"They did what?" he asked.

"Mia found it while excluding his DNA.  He said he's infertile."

"Well, someone's going to die.  At least he knows how to hide the bodies properly so we don't have to process him."  He went back to work.  He'd try to talk to Xander later.  When he was calm.  When he was ranting like you could hear through the glass door, you probably shouldn't bother the guy.  Then again, if someone had suddenly said 'look, you're a daddy' to him, he'd probably be swearing too.  He heard the phone ring and Xander switch to Latin instead, snickering at his skills in that language.

"I wondered how you said that in Latin," Greg noted, heading back to his lab.

The sheriff came out of Grissom's office, waving a paper.  "I had them fax it to us.  The paternity test was never done.  They're sending us a sample tonight."

"Fine," he agreed.  "All the better to get this over with."  Grissom watched as the sheriff's phone rang and then he grimaced at the man's fawning attitude.  "Feds?" he asked.  The sheriff nodded, holding up a finger.  He finally smiled, said thank you, and hung up.  "What?"

"They were doing a test case with some random DNA laying around the FBI lab."

"Why would they have his DNA?" Grissom asked plainly.  The sheriff looked unamused.  "There's actually a small group of federal people who want him captured and dead for daring to fight back against their torture and rebehavioring project.  He told me about it.  He told Jim about it too."

"Hell," he muttered.  "Try to keep it down, Gil."

"Of course.  How's Ecklie?"

"Not coming back until this is over with," he said firmly, going to tell him that.

Grissom stepped into Xander's work area, looking at him.  "Now they're claiming it's a random DNA sample to use as a test case."

Xander gave him a long look.  "I'm feeling suspiciously like I want to have a midnight conversation with someone, you?"

"Me as well, Xander," he assured him.  "Just stay calm and we'll figure it out.  They're sending a sample tonight.  We'll let the lab here do it."

Xander smiled sweetly, but it was ice that was coming from his eyes.  "When can I hurt them?"

"Not until you know," he offered.  "It could actually be a child."

"I doubt it.  I'm infertile. I have been since I was twenty and I got them clipped on my road trip."  He turned to look at him.  "As a matter of fact, I know all the women I slept with and none of them could have had a kid.  Two are dead, one came back about ten months later and she clearly wasn't pregnant or recently pregnant.  One I was around for six months straight while I was stranded.  There's no way."

"We'll figure it out, Xander, let the rest of us handle it."

"Grissom, if this is those federal idiots coming back, what makes you think they won't hurt whoever cops to their plans?"

"Easy, we're a bit too visible and people do pay attention to us," he said plainly.  "Got me?"  Xander nodded.  "Good.  Now calm down and please modulate your language.  I understand, but it's a bit too much, Xander."

"Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir."

"I'd swear too," he promised.  "What are you going to do if there is a child?  IVF has been done now for years."

"Then I guess I'll figure out how to be a daddy.  There's no way I'd let her stay anywhere without me."

"Sure.  We'll help you figure it out."  He left him there, calmer now.  He looked at Brass, then at Nick.  "Go pick up that sample.  I want it back here and run immediately."

"Yes, Grissom."  He went to call the number on the fax the sheriff had gotten to make sure of the flight and time.  If this had happened to him, there'd be dead people.  Especially after his mother got through with him and them.  He hoped this was a test file. Any kid of Xander's would cause problems.

***

Xander paced outside the DNA lab, chewing his gum very hard.  Mia finally came out and gave him a shove down the hall.  "You're not done yet?"

"Nearly but you're making me nervous.  I feel like you're going to destroy the lab."

"They'd make me pay for it and I didn't get that much for my car," Xander said bitterly.  "Go, process, I'm good."

"Go get chocolate, Xander," she ordered.

"I can't, I'll bounce more."  He stared at her until she sighed and went back inside, slamming the door.  He started to pace again but Warrick walked by and caught his arm.  "I need to be there."

"You need to let her work.  It'll take about twenty minutes."  He walked him into the breakroom, sitting him down.  "Here, have some of Greg's coffee," he said, pouring him some.  He even added some milk, Xander seemed like a milk sort.

"Blasphemy," Greg called.  "Milk in Blue Hawaiian?"

Xander did smirk at that.  "Some people like light things.  No offense, Warrick."

"None taken.  I'm sure your town was pretty racially unmixed."

"Yeah, I think there were only four African-Americans, one Caribbean-American, and she was firm on that, and two Asian students who were in as foreign exchange students."  He sipped his coffee.  "All of them hung with the popular and snotty crowd.  I'm glad you're nicer.  I nearly hugged one of the guys I had to partner with in Chem 2 because he was a down-home sorta guy and he was the color of dark chocolate.  Not the stereotype at all.  He gave me odd looks for weeks, even when I explained it to him."

Warrick nodded.  "That can be a culture shock.  I know I tutored one kid who'd never seen a black man before.  She just stared at me like I was a specimen for a few days."  He shook his head.  "It's pitiful but you can't really help it in some ways."

"Nah, you can't force migration into smaller, rural areas that are pretty closed off.  We apparently decided to not really be welcoming because you guys tasted funny to the vampires."

Warrick snickered at that.  "If I ever run into one, I'll tell him you said that."

"Okay.  Be sure to call me a Knight as well, that way you quote the appropriate source."  He took another drink then put down the cup before sprinting down the hall when he saw Mia come out.  "Well?"

She stared at him.  "Not really a match, but close.  She reads as a relative.  Do you have any brothers?"

"No.  No siblings.  A drunken uncle. A stupid drunken father.  A mother."  She shook her head.  "You're sure?"

"You want Greg to look too?"

"No, I trust your expertise.  How did they do that?"

"I don't know.  She reads as a near relative but not a direct one, Xander.  So relax."

"That means there's another Harris out there," he said grimly.

"Should we buy balloons?" Greg asked.

"No, relative but not a direct one," Mia offered.

"So, what color congratulations balloons do you want?" Greg asked Xander with a grin.

"Purple. I like purple.  Do I do something about this?"  He looked around then walked up the hall, going into Brass's office.  "She's a relative but not a direct one."

"Okay.  What are you going to do about that?"

"I don't know.  I figured you might."

"Do you have any relatives living?"  Xander shrugged. "You ever check?"

"Not really.  I don't usually care to associate."  He grimaced.  "But she's an innocent little kid."

"Then I'd write her a letter about the rest of the family maybe. That way someone can search them out."

"Sure.  That's a good idea," he agreed, heading back to do that.  He sealed it after printing it and handed it to Greg.  "Can we mail that to the address on the fax?"

"Sure.  Not a problem.  Stamps?"

"Um," he said, hunting in his wallet.  He came up with one and stuck it on there.  "Thanks, Greg."

"Not a problem.  We like this calm you more."

"Me too!"  He nodded and went to talk to Hodges.  "It's a near relative but not a direct one."

"Good!  You'd be one of those hyper fathers with kids who'd try everyone's patience."

Xander beamed.  "I know," he said smugly.  "Why do you think I had myself fixed?"

Hodges laughed at that.  "You're so bad, Xander.  Done?"

"Not even," he said dryly.  "Nick's scene included a guy selling guns.  I'm matching to the system.  Why?  Need me?"

"Just wondering if you were free for lunch."

"Sure.  I can do lunch.  Whenever you're ready to go, come get me."  He went back to his matching and notating.  This was the picky and fussy part of his job and he did enjoy it.

***

Brass brought the note from the front desk, handing it to him a week later.  "I'm here for you, remember that," he said quietly.  "From the redhead.  She said she's left town.  The receptionist gave her paper and a pen, then taped it closed."

Xander slit it open with a pen and looked at it, then crumped it up and tossed it aside.  "Fuck her," he growled.  He walked off, shaking his head.  "I no longer have a past before college."

"That's fine," he offered, picking it up once Xander had gone.  He read the simple note.

Thank you for doing that and saving us the agony.  I'm glad you're still on our side.  We miss you.

He walked it over to Hodges and handed it over.  "From the redhead."

"Willow," he corrected, looking at it, then tossing it out.  "He'll be fine.  He'll be sulking.  We'll help him later.  Our days off match with Greg's this time."

"Good for you guys.  You guys seem tight.  He needs it."  He walked off, going to tell Grissom.  The problems had stopped suddenly a few days earlier when Xander was mugged in the parking lot, but had gotten free and had nearly killed the person trying to mug him.  Apparently no one had thought that the kid knew how to fight and would take a weapon off an opponent to use it against them.  The proof they were wrong was still in the morgue.  He had mysteriously died in the hospital.  No one was claiming the body and nothing was going on with it.  Air embolism.  Could have happened by anyone's hand, but everyone who liked Xander enough to do that for him was accounted for.  Especially Xander since he was still filling out paperwork about the incident and had been surrounded by a few frowning cops and one of the SWAT guys who was suggesting heavily that he join the force.  Xander had to remind them all that he was technically listed as partially disabled due to his eye, therefore not eligible.  It had meant a few pouting cops that night.  But no one else had tried anything.  Xander's life had settled down to a nice, normal lab tech's existence, with too many hours worked.   Even Ecklie had cautiously said hi to him in the halls when he had passed by him a few days earlier.  He stopped, seeing a familiar face in the waiting area, hands in his trench coat pockets.  "You lost?" he asked dryly, shaking his hand when it was held out.

"Partially.  I'm on the injured list so I get to recruit.  Where's our new ballistic tech?"

"Outside having a small breakdown thanks to one of his friends," he admitted.  "Come back to the labs.  Give him a visitor pass," he ordered.  The receptionist frowned but did so.  "I promise, the next one will be as nice as Xander," he assured her.

"I doubt it," she said dryly.  "Who else would flirt with me and give me a card because I actually had a paycheck for him?"

"Point," Brass admitted after a moment's thought.  "We'll make Sanders take up his slack."  He walked Vecchio back there, finding Xander in Hodges's lab.  "Xander?"  He looked over then nodded politely and slowly.  "This is Detective Vecchio from Chicago.  He's here to talk to you about going to their department."

"Sure.  Can we borrow a bench?"

"Use the break room," he said with a shrug.  "Who's going to say anything?"

"Grissom?  The sheriff?  Ecklie?"

"I doubt it, not with the way your last month went," he said dryly.

"Go, Xander.  I remember him, he was here undercover and he was a good guy," Hodges told him.

"Thank you."  Vecchio looked at him. "I can always go play some craps if this is a bad time.  This is on the city's expense account for me."

"No, I'm good," Xander offered, leading him that way.  "I was almost hoping for a small department where I could raise dogs and be the loner guy who lived just out of town."

Vecchio looked at him.  "You don't see yourself marrying?"

"I only seem to draw evil people.  Why would I want to tax my coworkers that way?"

"Evil people?"

"My last one was a serial killer.  Then one of the guys here set me up with someone and she tried to stab me while dancing."

"Ow.  Why do you draw them?"

"Not a clue," Xander said, letting him into the break room.  He looked at Catherine. "Brass told me to bring him in here so he can talk up his department."

"Detective," she said with a nod.  "You'll fit well with him.  He's a good guy, but stress loved him this last month."

"It happens to the best of us.  My partner got me shot."

"You okay?  I've got advil in my locker," Xander offered.  "Greg's always got some herbal stuff too."

"Nah, I'm fine.  Sit, kid."

"I'm not really that young," he complained, but he did sit and put his feet up.  "So, Chicago's a big city.  Why do you need a ballistic's tech with a minor in Trace?"

"You do?"  Xander nodded.  "No one told us that."

"Pity, but yeah, I do.  I temp in with Hodges now and then too.  Catherine, is there any way he can read my evals?"

"Sure.  Let me talk Grissom out of them. I know he was doing your monthly one this week."  She got up and left them alone, heading up the hall.  Grissom handed them over when he saw her.  "You knew?"

"Jim stopped in.  He okay?"

"He's fine.  Vecchio's shoulder it looks like by the extra lump on it.  Xander's a bit high strung but calm.  No outbursts of swearing."

"Good.  I hope he makes a good impression.  Chicago's not what he wanted but they're building a quality department since most of theirs retired a few years back."

"Good.  It all here?"

"Mine, Ecklie's, Hodges's, Brass's, yours, Warrick's," he said dryly.  "The only one who doesn't have one in there is Bobby and I only have his first one."

"I didn't think there'd be a problem."

"No, it's mostly good.  Ecklie's said he was a bit high strung.   Hodges had actual praise for the kid.  Brass's was good, yours were good.  Mine's good.  Go."

"Yes, sir."  She went to bring it to them, winking at Xander.  "Hodges wrote you a few too."

"Cool.  Bobby?"

"Only the first one.  He's been gone for a bit."

"Point.  Later?"

"Sure.  You having lunch with Hodges?"

"Yeah.  Like usual.  Maybe with him and Greg."

"I'll catch you after work, we'll hit breakfast.  Later, detective.  Come back to visit sometime."  He grinned at her and she shut the door behind her, looking at Sarah as she opened her mouth.  "The detective from Chicago is here to talk to Xander.  They're using the break room."

"I wanted a water."

"I've got some in my mini fridge."  She nodded, going to grab one from there, leaving money for it even.  Catherine went to lurk and check on them now and then.

Vecchio noticed it all.  "They mother you a lot?"

"Yeah.  I've had a crappy month.  A few attacks here, one where I had to do someone in.  A mugging in the parking lot.  Someone putting in a false paternity warrant against me and the test coming up a relative but not that close. It's been a long damn month, detective."

"Ray, please," he offered, smirking at him.  He went back to reading the evaluations.  "Hodges praised you?  Real praise even.  Catherine gave you praise.  Grissom gave you praise and said you tended to jump in to help.  The sheriff said you were a good worker and didn't balk at overtime when necessary, but it was easy to abuse you into doing more than you should.  Big problems?"

"The guy I'm actually interning under is off with his mother.  She's just started cancer treatments," he said quietly.  "So Grissom and Nick have been looking over my shoulder and every now and then Ecklie comes in to do it more blatantly and make me feel like an idiot.  Grissom had to yell at me about my hours."

Vecchio looked at him.  "That's not always a bad thing unless you're overly tired."

"Now and then but the day shift guys are out sick too.  They're having fits with the sheriff over a raise.  I'm also helping Hodges when I have some free time. His day shift counterpart is out sick with a recent stroke so he's backed up now and then."

"Oooh, that's a bad thing.  He okay?"

"Yeah, we do okay together," he offered, sitting up straight.  "I'm not the staid guy that most of these guys are.  I'm a fun guy.  I like having fun.  I listen to music in my lab.  I caused Ecklie to have a minor heart attack due to it."  He grinned at the raised eyebrow.  "I was listening to Dennis Leary.  He got upset.  I switched to redneck jokes.  He got even more upset, told me to switch it.  I switched to country but Hodges complained.  Ecklie told me to listen to something that was non-discriminatory.  So I put on disney songs."  Vecchio burst out laughing.  "He got so upset the poor guy lost it in my lab and fell down gasping and holding his chest."  He clasped his hands on the table.  "What can I tell you that's not in there?"

"Let's talk about your background since no one said you could do two jobs.  You did your undergrad where?"

"UCLA.  I did a forensics track through the science department.  That's as far as I went.  I majored in ballistics, minored in trace, and I'm a very good shot as well.  I've had enough of papers to last me for a lifetime.  I have a former life that's hopefully never going to come near me again.  That's been some of the stress this last few months."  Vecchio nodded for him to go on.  "The way I usually put it is that I had to partake of some urban combat for survival reasons.  I had about eight years of that then I went to college."

"Huh."  He looked at him.  "Greg's friend said that Greg told her you know about strange stuff."  Xander groaned and put his head down.  "You do?"

"Yeah, I do.  I'm out of that life though.  It's like my former life.  I've reincarnated to a higher purpose for being so good."  He looked at him.  "Tell me you don't need me in that capacity," he pleaded.

"Now and then but I've got a Mountie for that."

"Really?  You mean there's others there who do that too?"

"Yeah, we have a few occult specialists within the city," he said smugly.  "You'll probably want to touch base with them, but otherwise you'd never be the only person."

"Oh, thank you Goddess," he said, looking up.  "Blessed be you.  I'll light that candle when my neighbor starts to toke his pipe again."  He looked at him.  "We had a vampire attack here."

"Yeah, we had one of those a few months back.  Those suck."

"And bite," Xander quipped.  "I'm from Sunnydale."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "I heard rumors from one of them that I was coming to meet with someone who had a real clue."

"Yuppers.  But I don't want to live that life anymore."

"Not an issue, kid.  Like I said, we're good on that.  You'd be on call.  What else can you do?  I see a SWAT licensing?"

"I can disarm most bombs.  I'm not the fastest but I'm good."

"Wow."  He stared at him. "You're really damn young."

"I worked construction while in Sunnydale."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "That helps I guess.  How's your range work?"

"Two points from marksman.  I'm missing an eye so I sometimes have problems with depth perception."

"That's fine.  Our guys carry guns.  Even our lab guys."  He looked in the file again.  "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Living with a few dogs, in a small house with a tiny yard, living off fast food and take out, working in a lab setting," he admitted. "Hopefully without a lot of insanity going on around me."

"No spouse?"

"I'm not taking that chance," he sighed.  "I really can't.  Too many things have happened.  Even if I switched to my very occasional like of men, I'd probably never consider it a long- term thing.  They'd have to be really special to get past my past."

"We've all got pasts, I used to be married."

"Really?  Is it as bad as they say?"

"Not really.  Then again, my wife couldn't cook and we lived with my Ma and the family."

"Wow, you have a family?"

"Yeah, my Ma tends to adopt lots of kids.  There's three of us naturally and then the grandkids, my Mountie, his wolf, my other partner, a few of the other detectives when they're in feeding range. It's a nice thing.  You got any family?"

"Besides the newly found relative?  Not a clue.  My parents were drunks, my uncle was a driving drunk.  My family never cooked and neither do I.  We didn't even have a stove in the house."  Vecchio gaped at that so he shrugged. "I guess they figured it wasn't worth buying and taking up space.  I found out what one was from the Home Ec teacher when I had to take it.  I can microwave, fry in a frier because I did some fast food way back when, and I can almost boil.  I managed to ruin boiled eggs the other day."

"My Ma would take you in and feed you whenever she could.  She's that sort," he promised.  "Another perk of Chicago.  You drive?"  Xander nodded.  "Wanna do field work?"

"Not unless I have to.  I am missing an eye so I'm not usually counted as being able to be in the field, unless it's a bomb situation.  I'm on call for that here as a backup."

"Hey, not an issue," he promised.  "Hell, you're more than we could have hoped for, Xander.  Can I use your name?"

"I don't mind. As long as you don't ask for skin or blood samples for a voodoo doll I'm pretty decent with most people using my name."

"Harris!" Hodges called, then smirked.  "Bobby's on line four!"

"Thanks!  Excuse me, detective."  He grabbed the phone and relaxed.  "Hey, Bobby.  How's your mom?  Oh, that's wonderful!" he said with a bright grin.  "Yeah, it's great.  You missed all the bad and odd stuff happening.  Nah, we're back to calm days," he promised.  "The lab's in perfect order but the printer.  It's ready to blow a gasket again. Nope, Archie and I fixed it once already.  No, I've been helping Hodges a lot. He's still using my laptop since they haven't replaced his computer.  So, when are you coming back?  Because the day shift guys are on a walk-out.  They wanted a raise."  He smirked.  "Guess, Bobby.  Really, man."  He chuckled and nodded.  "Sure, whenever you're ready.  No hurry right now.  We're good.  No, there's someone here from Chicago to recruit.  Sure."  He handed it over.  "The guy I'm supposed to be interning under."

"Hey," Vecchio said, listening to the voice tell him about Xander.  "So all the eval's said.  Yeah, I am."  He grinned at the kid.  "That's what I'm finding out.  No one ever mentioned he was this good.  Sure.  Yup."  Someone broke into the line.  "Xander?"  He handed it back.

"Bobby, man, I've got to get back to this.  I'll call tomorrow, okay?"  He beamed.  "Of course I'm being good.  Hodges and Greg are watching out for me.  Not that way, Bobby, he's a nice guy to me.  Leave Hodges alone.  Yes, I am.  He's good to me.  Leave him alone.  Fine, when you get back.  Laters."  He got up to hang up the phone.  "Sorry, he thought Hodges and I wouldn't get along that well."

"Not a problem.  He said you'd be great as long as you didn't have to run things."

"No, I don't wanna run things, especially not right out of my internship.  Of course, if I'm put into conflict with my boss, there might be fireworks and I can't promise it won't be them," he offered with a bright grin.  "I'm still human after all."

"You sure about that?  Ecklie's last evaluation has you sounding like you can split yourself in two."

"No, that's not really any fun.  It's weird and then you start wondering what sex with yourself would be like and your girlfriend suggests it and you get the shudders and have to go hide in the bathroom."

Vecchio looked at him.  "If you come, you're going into my precinct, Xander.  You'll fit in there.  We're in the median section.  Not the worst and not the best, some mild gang violence and some lower class neighborhoods."

"Not a problem. I handle that here.  How are housing costs and how relative are they to the paycheck?"

"Well," he offered, scratching the back of his neck.  "You'll hate the paycheck. I'll be honest.  We are one of the lower paying cities, real cities, in the US.  We can't afford a great budget.  Most of our people retired over that a few years ago.  I can guarantee it'll be more than you're making here.  But our first year techs earn about fifty.  Base, before overtime."

"Yeah, that's much more than my stipend," Xander said dryly.  "I'm only earning two a month here."  Vecchio gaped at that so he shrugged. "I got a raise.  I'm the only ballistics tech and I'm handling about sixty hours a week including my time in Trace."

"Wow.  Usually we have guys who look at the federal rate of seventy and then New York's of sixty-five plus perks and pass us by without a thought."

"I'd prefer a place where I could be myself, bad days and all," Xander pointed out.  "I'm sterile so I won't have kids to pass a great estate on to.  I'll have dogs."  He shrugged at the odd look. "I had it done.  A kid in my life is in danger.  I don't think I could handle kids. On the worst days I have a temper, which does include swearing."

"We do that at the filing cabinets," Vecchio assured him.  "You can listen to music.  The ME in our precinct does Opera.  We're one of three CSU units across the main city.  We're the least busy one.  You'd about be the only gun tech, possibly with some students from the university."

Xander nodded and shrugged.  "That's fine.  When can I come out to tour?  It's you or Montana right now.  Since they're not offering to feed me whenever you feel sorry for me, they're losing.  There's not enough takeout in Montana as far as I can tell."

Vecchio smirked.  "You got days off coming?"

"Supposedly.  I can even plan them together if I need to.  When should I ask for?"

"How about next month, near the end.  It's usually less busy then.  Come in for a long weekend.  I'll let Ma feed ya and we'll talk to everyone.  How's that?"

Xander wrote down his phone number and slid it over.  "To my cell.  What's the next to last weekend of the month?  Seeing it busy would be more informational."

"It's a madhouse."

"So's here.  I can deal with that."  Vecchio nodded at that.  "Let's say the weekend after the fifteenth?"

"I like that idea," he agreed, holding out a hand.  Xander shook it.  "Let me copy this then I'm gonna go enjoy the rest of my night.  I'll call a few days before to make sure you remember."

"Thanks, I'll probably need it," he offered with a grin. "Let's go bug Grissom so you can get copies of those to take back and brag on me a lot. That way I can fill out the leave papers right then."  Vecchio nodded and followed him into the office, interrupting Grissom's nap.  "You okay, boss?"

"Fine, Xander. It's been a long night. Are you going out for a visit?  Chicago's got a good system going, it's just underfunded."

"Yup, I am.  The weekend after the fifteenth of next month, a long weekend."

"You have leave days for these visits, it's not a problem," he assured him, finding the paper and filling it out for him.  "That would be the fifteenth through the eighteenth, correct?  Friday through Monday?  Be back Tuesday?"  Xander nodded.  "Good.  Bobby will be back in two weeks so you'll be covered there.  Detective, did you need copies?"

"Yeah, we had no idea he had more than one area.  No one said anything about the bombs or the minor or anything."

Grissom smiled. "If we could afford to keep him, I'd do so."

"Yeah, I can see why.  If he signs with us, we'll want work evaluation copies as well."

"Of course.  We've done this before, detective."

"Good, 'cause I haven't," he said dryly, grinning at Xander. "I'm just handy."

"I feel that same way about myself," he quipped, shaking his hand again.  "I'm gonna go back to work and help Hodges."

"Sure."  The boy bounced out and Vecchio shook his head. "He's got energy.  That's a good thing."

"He's also good at getting around the hours restrictions we place on him," Grissom warned but he was smiling.  "He describes himself as the guy who jumps in to help."

"We could use that.  You get him in the field yet?"

"Minor work with ballistics at a free-for-all shootout.  He shot the guy who came after us.  He's very protective of what's his and we're considered his at the moment."

"All the better.  We could use good guys like him.  He fudge anything that you've seen?"

"No and he's honest to a fault.  He will try to explain any discrepancies.  He had a ninety- eight percent match and included in the report why it was so close but not exact."  Vecchio nodded at that.  "He'll do good for your department.  Like I said, if I could keep him, I would.  He flirts with our staff and makes their week.  He gets along well with almost everyone on the staff, but Ecklie."  Vecchio snickered at that.  "Did he tell you about his music habit?"

"I did hear something about that and disney."

"Yes, well, we'd all like to forget that incident," Grissom said firmly.  "It's not in any evaluation we have."

"Ehh.  Our ME listens to opera while he works.  They'll get on fine."  He shook his hand.  "I'm off to the craps table.  I'll check on him before he's due to come up and then we'll keep in touch if he signs on."

"That's fine.  We like Xander.  We want our poor stray tech to find a good home."

"Ma'll feed him."

"Don't let him date," Grissom told him.  "Seriously.  We're still trying to figure out why the last person he went out with tried to stab him.  She's an old friend of one of my CSI's  and he said she's never been like that before."

Vecchio snorted.  "If he draws evil people that much, we might use him to catch some.  It'll let him play the field now and then."  He winked and walked out, taking his copies of the evaluations back to his hotel.  He faxed them back then called.   "It's me," he reported. "I met with the kid, he's bouncy, smart mouthed, energetic, multi-talented, doesn't mind our salary, can disarm bombs, is nearly a marksman, can work Trace, draws evil people, and we want him at our precinct.  He'll be coming up the middle of next month.  Yeah, I faxed 'em.  Look in the machine, Frannie.  Thanks.  No, I'm gonna go see a show.  Tell Ma I offered her the right to feed him and check him over too.  Thanks."  He hung up and kicked back, waiting for the call back from his boss.

***

Xander walked off the plane with the guy in handcuffs, handing him over to the detective waiting on him, who handed him off to the patrol guys.  "Sorry, off duty?"

"Hell yes," he said happily.  "About time too.  What'd he do?"

"Tried to hit the pregnant woman for moaning as the baby kicked.  He backhanded her, went for her stomach and I got him in the kidneys.  It stopped him fairly quickly."  He grinned at the man.  "Just think, I'm a Crime Scene guy, not a cop.  I could have been meaner."  He moaned again, leaning on his new captors as they drug him off.  "Next time, don't touch a pregnant woman!" he yelled after him.  He looked at the nice detective.  "So, where am I staying?"

"Not too bad of a hotel.  No dogs yet?"

"I need to be settled in before I do that.  They don't like change that much."  He followed him out, grabbing his bag from the claim area, then his gun from security before heading out to the parking garage.  He fell in love with the old car.  "Oh, she's beautiful," he said in awe, running a hand down her side.  "Well conformed, well tended, she's a beauty, detective."

"Thanks, she's my fifth.  I keep getting mine blown up and stuff during cases.  Like my suits, the Mountie ruins my cars."  He nodded.  "Get in.  There's no lock over there."

"That can be fixed."  He slid in, putting his bags behind his feet while he buckled up, then he closed the door.  He shifted to look at him.  "So, when do I take the tour?"

"Tonight good or do you need a nap?"

"No, I'm good.  Remember, I work nights.  I slept already and on the plane."

"Sure, kid."  He checked before backing out, heading through the gate without having to pay.  The perks of the badge.  He took the scenic way in.  "That's downtown but it's a snarl of traffic," he offered.  "We'll never get free before midnight if we take that now."

"That's fine.  It's prettier from a distance.  You can see more of the jewels."

Vecchio nodded, taking him on to his precinct.  "This is my home turf," he offered as he parked.  "The twenty-seventh.  Your area is downstairs, ours is upstairs.  Holding's in the basement."  He got out.  "Leave the bags.  Anyone touches my car, they know they're giving up a hand."  Xander grinned at that and adjusted his gun and his ID on his belt.  "Can't get it to stay on?"

"No, it keeps falling off.  Anymore I give it to the receptionist before I leave so I don't have to hunt it down."  He followed him inside, nodding politely at the man behind the old fashioned desk.  "Do we have computers?"

"Yeah, you guys do.  We have some limited ones.  Why?"

"Greg said you guys were updating."

"We are, but not that much."  He led the way into the CSU portion, weathering the glares.  "I bring you a ballistics and trace tech and you glare?" he taunted.

One older woman looked at Xander.  "You doing your internship, kid?"

"Right now, ma'am.  I'm doing it in Vegas."

"You doing school too?" she demanded.

"No, I've graduated.  I'm doing my year's worth. I'm Xander Harris," he said, shaking her hand.  "Major in ballistic and minor in trace, with a side of disarming bombs and gun play, including artillery."  She blinked at that so he gave her a smug look.  "I'm a nice boy unless you piss me off."

"So I can tell," she said, giving him a once-over.  "You cook?"

"Hell no," he snorted.  "My parents didn't even own a stove.  I microwave and I order."

She rolled her eyes.  "Vecchio, make your Ma feed him."  Someone came rushing in carrying a bag.  "'Scuse us, but work don't stop for pretty people."

"I knew I'd brighten up your day," Vecchio quipped, leading him on the short tour.  He ended up in the coroner's office.  "Technically Mort's in charge of this lab."

"Cool."  He stuck his head in.  "Are you busy or can the lowly person taking the tour to see if I want to work with you come in?"  The ME looked at him then nodded him inside.  "Hi, I'm Xander."

"Most everyone calls me Mort," he offered, looking him over, then Vecchio.  "I saw your evaluations.  Very interesting.  You're good?"

"Most of the time but every now and then I get this naughty urge that makes me wanna play comedy albums so people wet themselves laughing," he offered with a bright grin.  Mort chuckled at that and led him into the office to talk to him.  "Shouldn't the detective come with us?"

"No, he's not our personal slave detective like you guys have," he offered. "He's just one of the local ones."

"He's very nice."

"He's also got paperwork taller than he is," Vecchio admitted.  "Send him upstairs, Mort.  I'll see you when you're done, Xander."

"Sure, thanks, Detective Vecchio."  He left, going up the stairs to tell his boss what he'd heard so far.  Xander looked at him.  "So, you're overworked, understaffed, and you need someone hot, ready, and willing to jump in. I can do that.  What can you do for me, besides not making me deal with the strange crap that was my former life?"

Mort smiled at him.  "Vecchio warned us that you didn't want to handle that.  That's fine with us.  You may have to now and then but our part of town isn't really the place for that mostly.  Now and then there'll be a related homicide."  He looked the boy over.  "I talked with your interning director.  He said you've done more than most people think and you do admit when you're wrong and correct things.  Can you keep that up?"  Xander nodded. "Do you get along well with everybody?"  Xander shook his head.  "With Vecchio?"  He nodded.  "Good, he's one of our toughest detectives to deal with. I'll let you ride with him on Sunday to get a feel for the area. What can you bring to us, Xander?"  He pulled out a list and handed it over, making him smile.  "Prepared, I like that."  He looked it over, then grinned.  "I like the cartoon more than the grade summary and the range qualifications are excellent, as well as your licenses.  We're pretty standard in this area.  Homicides, breaking and enterings, gang warfare, domestics, some child abuse, some minor other category things.  Are you keeping up in trace?"

"I do about fifteen to twenty hours a week in there as well as ballistics."

"Then you're used to long hours?"

"I am, but I'd like to slow down some year.  Not this year, I'd be bored."

"Dating anyone?"

"I draw evil people to me.  If you catch me dating, do a background check immediately."

He looked at the list.  "You've had experience with serial cases?"

"Both personally and professionally.  I had to convince the LAPD that my last one was actually a serial killer.  They thought she was too nice, but she was killing my former friends over and over again."

"I see.  You did evidence collection?"

"Yup, and did observational analysis as well to be handed over.  I ended up having to go to one of my professors who worked in the department and having him bring me in while he threw a fit for not listening to me.  They caught her with her last few and she's in the pretty padded room of hell."

"Interesting.  I ran your name through the Federal system and it came up blank.  Yet you say you have a sealed record?  Why?"

"Because a long time ago, I lived in Sunnydale.  My friends and I had to drive out a covert ops group who was trying to make us be their little soldiers in training by torture and other means.  Then recently they've tried to put a paternity warrant in for a kid that's a relative of mine but not mine, and tried to rabbit virus our system.  They had confiscated my personnel records for a few weeks and refused to give them back until Detective Brass went up there with a warrant and the sheriff.  They had mine and my intern director's files actually.  They had a person in protection who was going back to his old ways but was too important to turn over.  They figured out we'd be the department to catch him since he's a triggerman.  I'm guessing they hate me now."

"Very interesting and to your advantage for the most part.  Think you could adopt me and make the IRS leave me alone?"

"I wish but they're recently decided to audit me.  Apparently they're spreading their fear campaign.  It's not working, but they're trying very hard."

"How are you at politics?"

"I suck at it but I can pretend for a few minutes each day without making myself ill from the revulsion and sliminess."

Mort chuckled. "I can see that point.  Fine, let's walk you out there so you can look over our system. It's not as nice as Vegas's labs, but we're improving."

"I noticed it's an open floor design instead of labs.  Is ballistics a lab or part of that?"

"It's got it's own lab," he promised.  "That's just for general work areas."  He led him out into the room, watching the chaos go on in the small area.  "We're working to expand."

Xander watched someone get frustrated and walked over to help him, picking up a magnifying glass. "Hair, fiber, or body fluids?" he asked.

"Hairs.  I need a DNA tag."

Xander came up with one and held it up with the tweezers.  "It's fairly old looking."

"So?"  He took it carefully and walked it into the DNA lab, letting her have it.  He came back out.  "Who're you?"

"Xander.  I'm being courted to come here after my intern year in Vegas."

"I want Vegas' labs," he said in awe.  "They're good?"

"They're very good but they still haven't given Trace a new computer after his blew up.  He's using my laptop."  He grinned.  "Since it's my personal computer, the administrator and the lab director tried to jump me about the porn on it, but I pointed out it was only on loan to Hodges until his system got fixed and it wasn't like I was actively downloading now.  But that I could start again if it'd make them get him a new system faster.  He still hasn't gotten it yet.  I'm thinking about Teletubbies porn next."  The guy looked horrified but Mort burst out laughing.

"I like you, Xander.  He's ballistics and trace.  Plus some demolitions and artillery."

"Cool.  What made this indent?" a woman asked, showing him a picture.

Xander looked then shrugged.  "Weak plastique, or maybe a kiddie rocket with a small bomb.  It's too small for a missile and they would have popped a hole through at the least."  He took it to look over.  "How big is this dent?"

"Six feet in diameter," she said.

"Kiddie rocket with some TNT or C-4," he offered, handing it back.  "Too small to be real artillery.  To big to be bullets.  Unless you've got a guy with a two foot fist who can pound in buildings?"

"Not yet," she admitted.  "Thanks.  Any idea on range?"

"My last one had about ten feet.  There's some remote controlled ones that might get better, letting the kid be on the street and controlling it.  I usually go to Radio Shack."

She nodded. "I'll head there later.  Thank you, Xander."  She went back to her notes, writing that down.

Xander looked at Mort.  "I like this.  They're not doing the friendly banter that we do back in Vegas, but it's nice."

"Chicago families yell at each other, other cities squabble," the guy he had helped said plainly.  "We yell plenty around here.  You do music?"

"Some.  I like light metal, some country, some comedy.  Disney to irk and annoy."  He grinned brightly.  "You?"

"We're pretty old school around here."

"Stones and the Beatles or NWA and Kid Rock?"

The man gaped then groaned and shook his head.  "Older.  Dean Martin, Sinatra.  Older."

"Ooh, *old* school," he said, nodding.  "Not my thing but it doesn't always put me to sleep.  Can I listen to stuff in ballistics without upsetting others?"

"Sure.  You've got a door that closes," he agreed dryly.  "Right, Mort?"

"Yes, he will," he agreed, steering Xander off.  "Do you mind opera?"

"I was only exposed to it in a music appreciation class and I napped," he admitted.  "But I liked the Bugs Bunny version."

Mort shook his head. "You'll learn to appreciate our music with exposure, I'm sure you will."  He walked him upstairs to the detective's pen, weathering the staring.  "He wants to come work for us and make your jobs easier.  Deal with it."

"He's armed," a female noted.

"I'm also a ballistics tech, licensed to carry and carry concealed, and having chocolate cravings," he quipped.  Then he grinned.  "Xander," he said, shaking her hand.  "You remind me of my wonderful guide, Detective Vecchio."

"I'm his little sister.  He's in the office if you wanted ta sit."  She looked at the ME.  "He coming in?"

"Hopefully.  I need to arrange for some ride-along time with your brother and the others as well so he learns a bit about the area and the cases we handle.  Are they in conference or chewing him a new one?"

"Chewing him a new one for handing over the prisoner on the plane."  Xander snickered.  "You?"

"He tried to hit a pregnant woman."  He pointed at the office.  "In there?"

"Sure.  I wanna see you deal with the Lieutenant."

Xander looked at Mort.  "I'll lay down suppression fire if you want to cover me."

"Go ahead, Xander.  He won't eat you yet.  You're not one of his yet."  Mort watched as the boy walked over to the door and knocked.

"What!" a cranky male voice called.

Xander opened the door and stuck his head back in.  "Mort wanted me to arrange some ride along time, Detective," he said with a grin for him.  "They're kinda neat, even if they do listen to sleepy music."  He grinned at the Lieutenant, who was scowling.  "I'm Xander Harris," he offered.  "I hurt the guy for trying to hit the pregnant woman.  Was there a problem with that, sir?"

"It's Lieutenant," Vecchio told him.  "Get in here.  Mort, when?"

"Sunday would be fine.  I'd like to see him work for a few hours tomorrow afternoon," he offered, following behind Xander.  "That way we can gauge him for ourselves.  Lieutenant, would that be a problem for him to ride along?"

"No, not in the least," he said dryly.  "He's a what tech?"

"Ballistics and trace," he offered.  "With artillery, bombs, and self-defense training thrown in now and then, sir."  He grinned at him and sat down on the couch.  "Wow, this is nice.  I'll need one of these when I move here.  I could nap on this until I found a bed."

"It's just old and worn out.  We've got plenty of that around here," Vecchio told him.  He looked at Mort.  "When?"

"Say two, Xander?"

"Sure.  I can cab over and do that so Ray has a few hours to himself." He popped his neck then looked up at his future boss. "Should I bring anything other than my glasses and my lab coat?"

"No, that should be fine.  Wear comfortable clothes.  We do allow jeans in the lab.  You won't be doing field work so you don't have to worry about a vest or anything."

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy.  I'll see you then, Xander.  You behave tonight."  He nodded at Vecchio and the Lieutenant.  "Thank you, detective. He's very good, just as you promised."  He left, going back to work.  The dead waited for no man.

Vecchio looked at him.  "Jumped in?"

"Helped find a hair."  He looked at the Lieutenant.  "Yes, I'm that cocky brat he found in Vegas," he said dryly, smirking at him.  "From just outside LA and I did my education at UCLA.  I'm a smart ass but I'm good enough to earn it."

The Lieutenant nodded.  "You licensed to carry?"

"Two points off marksman.  I have depth perception problems. I'm also licensed to carry concealed, disarm and create bombs, and to fire off artillery to make pretty pictures in the sky during fireworks."

"Why aren't you in SWAT?" he asked.

"Because I like the lab, I'm missing an eye, and I don't want to go shoot people every day, just when I'm tired of not being the only sane human in the world."  The Lieutenant gaped and he grinned.  "There are days," he offered.

"I've had those, Vecchio usually causes them. Did you hand the detective the prisoner?"

"Yes, but he said he was already on assignment and couldn't bring him in.  Since there were uniformed officers there, they took control of the prisoner who I had to hurt a lot to keep down.  You don't smack pregnant women around me," he said simply.  "I don't care if you believe she's carrying Satan and his high court, you just don't.  I tried peaceful once I had him subdued, but he continued to struggle so I administered a few careful punches as a civilian to keep him from hurting anyone else.  No air marshal on our flight."

"Interesting."

"I get that a lot," Xander noted dryly.

The Lieutenant cracked a smirk.  "You are a smart ass."

"You bet," he agreed dryly.  "Who you'll only really have to worry about if I start to date.  By the way, Vecchio, you missed it.  I went out on a blind date with one of Nick's friends.  Someone Catherine knew as well.  She's been stalking me now for a few days because I told her I don't cook and she wants to make me her baby and feed me."

"True stalking?"

"Yup, true stalking.  Hourly phone calls, lurking in plain sight where I should be.  Delivering tasteless presents to the station, including lingerie for her, or possibly she wanted me to wear it, I'm not quite sure - still.  She dressed up as a singing strip-o-gram and came to wish me a happy Wednesday.  Brass about body slammed her for that because she did it in the entryway and some suspects nearly got away.  We finally almost got rid of her when a male patrol officer stepped up and kissed me then called me pookie bear, but she's being watched in case she retaliates.  They've decided I was right, I shouldn't date."

Vecchio shook his head.  "At least you'll have a long weekend away from that."  He looked at his boss.  "We done?  I gotta drop him off."

"Go.  I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure.  Will you need picked up...Xander?"

"No, I know what a cab is.  I had to sell my car to afford the rent in Vegas so I've gotten very familiar with them and other means of public transportation available."  He stood up, shaking his hand.  "Nice to meet you sir, I think I'll like working here."  He followed Ray out like a puppy, bouncing happily behind him.  He saw a Mountie and stopped to stare at him for a minute.  "Vecchio mentioned you.  I'm Xander," he said, shaking his hand.

"He told me about you as well.  Here for the tour?" he asked politely.

Xander beamed and nodded.  "Yup, sure am.  I'm looking forward to it and the ride along. Gotta go, he's impatient."  He hurried after him, only stopping to pet the dog.  "Ooooh, you're such a cute little puppy," he cooed.  "How old are you?  Are you over a year old?"

"Yes, and he's a shedding and begging monster," Vecchio said, glaring at the wolf.  He only got a lupine grin before the animal trotted off.  "That's Benny and his wolf," he explained. "They're partners."

"I hope in the work sense," he said dryly.

"Us too," Vecchio admitted, taking him out to his car.  "There were those rumors about a Christmas party but we don't believe them here."  Xander broke out in giggles, leaning on his arm until he could compose himself.  "Feel better?"

"Much.  That's nearly as bad as me taunting Ecklie with my t-shirts of doomsday sayings all last week."  Vecchio gave him a look.  "I started out with 'the end is near and soon you'll have a boring life again' and moved on from there.  He really hated my bad mood t- shirt.  I'm having a bad day and you're in my way; I'm having a bad day and I like guns and you're in my way; do you want to visit the coroner tonight?  Then get out of my way.  Now," he quoted with a grin.  "One of the cops didn't like it either.  He tried to grab me and I flipped him onto his back and yelled at him.  Then again, I had been shot earlier that morning with bird shot."

"We lead a much less interesting life around here," Ray promised him, letting him back into his car.  He heard running paws and sighed.  "Yes, you can go to Ma's with me, but we've got to drop him off and let him get changed first," he told the wolf.

"I can wait," Xander offered.

"Fat chance.  Ma said so," he ordered.  "In.  You too, Diefenbaker."  The wolf got his usual spot and Xander slid into the front, buckling up again.  "You in?  Got everything?"

Xander leaned over to hug his arm.  "I still like you, even though I made him give you a grumpy mood.  Want to help me find Teletubbies porn so people will give Hodges his own computer back so I can have my laptop again?"

Vecchio looked at him.  "Huh?" he asked, fighting not to smile at that.

"Hodges' computer blew up.  I lent him my laptop from home, which I only use to find porn and play solitaire on.  The admin and Ecklie both complained about the porn.  So I pointed out it was my personal system, that I could have anything I wanted on it, and if they wanted the porn out of the office to replace his.  They ignored it so I've been putting odder and odder porn onto the thing so they finally break and give him back his computer.  This week I'm going for Teletubby porn."

Vecchio laughed quietly, shaking his head.  "Maybe you'll liven the place up again, Xander.  It can't hurt to have some mild insanity since Benny and the other Ray have calmed down."  He patted him on the cheek. "You'll do well here."  He started the car and shut his door, backing out so he could head off.  "We've got you in the Holiday Inn."

"That's cool.  They're nice places."  He looked at the sights.  "Is that the college?"

"A smaller one.  The university's about halfway across town."  He pulled into a parking area.  "Come on, let's go."  Xander nodded, getting out and grabbing his bags once he got untangled.  Dief looked at him. Then at Ray.  "Fine," Ray agreed.  "Come."  He jumped out to follow them inside, earning them a dirty look.  "He's not staying, he's Canadian.  He works with a Mountie.  He's just adopted our new ballistics tech.  Harris.  On the PD payroll?"  She nodded, typing it into her computer.  She arched an eyebrow and he glanced over. "That's just wrong."

"I got it," Xander offered.  "You guys can pay me back."  He handed over his debit card.  "I got a bonus for fixing the database."  He got a weak smile from her so he tried harder.  "Do you guys get funny conventions here?  I always wanted to observe and see if any of the mad stories I've heard are true."

"We got an S&M one last year," she offered politely.  "They were rather nice and polite, sir."  She made him a card key.  "There you.  Room 26.  If you need anything, dial 8 to get the front desk, sir."

"Thanks."  He walked off, going to his room.  Inside wasn't too bad but not the best hotel in the world.  He dropped his stuff on the bed and his key, heading into the bathroom.  "Should I change?  I don't know how to react to a real mother who cooks."

"You bring any dress clothes?"  Xander made an assenting sound over the running water.  "Put on a pair of nice pants, she'll appreciate it."  He checked the chair before sitting down, then looked at the wolf.  "What do I know?  The department said so."

Xander came out to grab his bag and look through it.  "Mine almost managed not to pay me for a month.  When the rabbit virus hit and took out our files, mine and my fellow tech's personnel files disappeared and then they kept them. They had to do some good tapdancing to make sure we got paid."  He took a folded pair of pants into the bathroom and came out tucking his shirt in.  "Good enough?"

"Yeah, you look fine.  Gonna wear the weapon?"

"Depends, how dangerous is your sister?  She was giving me that 'young and tasty' look but I don't want to turn her evil because then you'd hate me."

"Hell, she's already evil.  She won't leave Benny alone and she's a terrible nag and gossip.  Shoes?"  Xander stepped into his loafers and pocketed his wallet, his room key, and for some reason another clip.  "I promise, Ma won't shootcha this week."

"Not you, dear, but necessary at times.  I'm going on instinct."  He shrugged and followed Ray out, letting the wolf trot between them once he had closed the door.  "Come on, Diefenbaker, we'll go eat and learn more about the department, then we'll come back here and if you want you can help me order pay per view tonight."  The wolf grinned up at him and jumped into the back of the car once the door was open.  "Since I'm paying, I won't make you pay me back for that."

"New York probably would."

"Yeah, but New York has a lot bigger department," Xander noted, leaning on the roof of the car.  "It's also got federal grants out the ass at the moment. One of their guys came out to interview for an AV position on days and she said they're fully funded right now by grants.  There are grants from high-end security companies to cover their backs for their special, rich clients.  There's federal grants, there's some international grants because of the UN and the diplomats.  They've got grants out the ass.  Chicago isn't New York and I wouldn't live in New York.  It's not where I want to go.  Their labs are smaller, they've got tighter oversight.  You basically have to raise your hand to piss in the corner, and I don't like that. It's not the sorta guy I am.  Besides, think about how much strange crap they get there yearly.  They made the Ghostbuster movies about New York for a reason, Ray."  He climbed in, glancing back to check on the wolf before buckling in.  "So, am I gonna enjoy real food?  Is it like a restaurant without the waitress I have to tip?"

Ray snorted.  "More or less, but my Ma cooks better.  Stan and Benny'll be there too probably."  He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for home.  "Don't try to flirt with Frannie, she'll pop you one or latch on like some flesh-eating fish."

"Eww."

"Sorry.  True, but sorry.  As Benny found out.  He still can't shake her."  He turned at a set of lights, and ran into a stand-off.  "Why me?"  He called it in and looked at the kid, who was calmly getting out and leaning on the door.  "Don't get the car hit, Xander.  I'll never forgive you."

"I wouldn't do that to your car, Ray."  He took aim at one guy and hit him in the leg.  "Ray, announcement?"

"Chicago PD," he shouted.  "You're keeping me from dinner with my mother."  The guy Xander shot gave him a hurt look.  "You are!"

"Hey, I'm from Cali, we can do it the LA way," Xander called.  "I'm down with the Crypts."  Most of the guys looked at each other, then at him, looking really confused.  "Ray, who's a cop there?"

"Not any I can see."  He shrugged.  "Shoot 'em all in the leg or somethin'.  The Lieutenant will sort it out and yell tomorrow."

"Cool beans," Xander said excitedly, taking aim and hitting another one, then the third.  By the time he focused on the fourth, he was on the ground with his hands on his head, and so was the fifth.  The sixth was slower so he got him in the arm.  The others he shot gently and they all fell down screaming.  "I said I was from LA. Did you think I was kidding?"  That got a mass head shake.  "Thank you."  He looked at them, then looked at Ray.  "Seven, I'm impressed with myself."  He checked his gun, then put it up and leaned on the hood again.  "So, if your sister thinks I'm cute and she also likes Benny, does that mean he attracts evil women like I do?"

Ray considered it, then nodded as their backup roared up the street, sirens blazing.  "Late again," he called, getting back into the car.  "Xander did it."  He closed his door and Xander did the same, putting his gun on the seat between them. "Good idea.  You know the Crypts?"

"Yeah, we had a minor drinking at the same place one night.  They thought I was funny but couldn't dance worth a damn.  They also thought it was cute when my tutor said he was the only African-American guy I had ever met.  They wanted to know if I was from Idaho."  Ray handed over the gun when someone knocked on the window.  "Hi, I'm the guy in to check out the town to see if I want to be a ballistics tech for you guys.  Need my license?"  The cop whimpered and slumped, but nodded.  Xander handed it over with a polite grin.  "Here you go.  If you need to keep it, you can.  I'll be down in the CSI unit under Ray's precinct tomorrow afternoon to temp in."

"Thank you, sir.  You are Mr. Harris?"  Xander nodded, looking happy.  "Did you have something to do with a pregnant woman and a guy on a plane?"

"He hit her.  That's rude in my book. I don't like rude people."

"Oh, you'll fit right in with Detective Vecchio, sir.  Welcome to our city.  When are you starting?"

"In about eight months."

"Good.  I'll tell my sergeant that we'll be getting someone who can do this sorta work."

"I can also disarm bombs.  I'm not the fastest but I'm very good."

"Even better," he agreed happily.  "I'll make sure your license and your sidearm are down there tomorrow, sir."

"Thanks.  Ray, feed me?" he pleaded.  "Please?  I've never had real home-cooked food."

"Sure, kid.  Quit showing off."  He rolled back up the windows, backing up so he could go around again.  "At least you didn't need the spare clip."

"There were a few more but they ran when I shot the first guy," he offered.  "I think one was a Crypt, but I couldn't quite see his bandana."

"Wonderful," Ray said patiently.  "This happen a lot around you?"

"No, demons, vampires, and bad women mostly."

"Good.  I'll expect less problems tomorrow."

"Sure, Ray.  I'm sorry."

"Not an issue, Xander.  You had to do it, you're just faster than I am."

"Practice," Xander said dryly.  "Lots and lots of practice.  Should I change?"

"No, you'll clean up when you get there," he assured him.  He pulled onto his mother's street.  "See the Goat up there?"

"The pretty black GTO?"

"Yup, that's Stan Kowalski's.  He's probably got Benny.  He's my partner and Ma's adopted him too.  He's bouncy, like you are."  He pulled into the driveway, his special spot, and stopped the engine.  "Dief?"  He got a wet nose in the ear.  "Good, you're fine.  Let's go."  He got out, letting out the wolf, and watching as Xander got out and wiped his hands off.  "Just clean up, she won't care."

"It can get the food dirty from transfer," he complained.  He saw the kid and waved, grinning.  "Are they human?"

"Most of the time.  Unless you've got candy."

"Not on me."  Ray opened the door and he followed him inside, grinning shyly at the lady  who must be his mother.  "Hi, I'm Xander."  He backed up.  "Don't. I've got gunpowder on me.  I don't want to mess you up.  Let me clean up and then I'll give hugs or shake hands or kiss cheeks.  Whatever one does with real mothers."

"His didn't own a stove," Ray told her.  "Go ahead, Xander.  First door after the stairs."  Xander nodded, sliding around him.  "Sorry, Ma.  We had to stop some stupid people on the way up. He's a good shot."

"It's fine, Raymondo."  She pinched his cheek and went to hug the boy once he came out cleaner.  "There you are."  She gave him a gentle hug, sensing this one didn't understand what they were for.  "All clean?"  He beamed and nodded. "Good boy.  Come help me.  That way the children won't pounce you."  She led him into the kitchen by his wrist.  "Stanley, Benny, this is Xander."

"We've met," Benny said, shaking his hand again.  "Get checked in?"

"Yup, sure did.  I'm at the Holiday Inn."  He grinned at the other guy.  "Are you one of the cops they were muttering about?"

"Probably," he said smugly, smirking at the boy.  "Xander you said?"

"Xander Harris, ballistics and trace tech," he said, shaking his hand. "Ray came out to steal me away from my internship and my plans to go hide in Montana and have dogs."  Xander's eyes went wide when he felt someone grab him and Stanley and Benny both noticed he had to calm himself.  "Hi.  Are you a bad guy?  Usually only bad guys like me."

"I'm a bad *girl*," she corrected.

"Okay.  Then I guess you'll love me and help Ray keep me."  She giggled and nodded, giving him a squeeze before running off.  "Sorry, I don't understand kids," he said quietly.

"We see that one every day and we don't understand her either," Stanley said.  "Ma, can we help?"

"No, dear.  Sit down and make sure that one stays.  He made Ray laugh and kept him safe."

"Of course I did.  He's got a pretty car.  Plus he's very nice.  He didn't even laugh when he found out that my last date turned into a stalker."  Stanley stared at him.  "The one before that tried to stab me in the middle of a dance floor."

"Man, you really only do draw bad guys," Stanley joked.  "So, shootout?"

"Yeah, in front of Benny's block," Ray said as he joined them.  "You okay?  She was cackling that she had pounced you."

"Is she okay?  I don't want to make her go evil."

"She's a girl, they're all evil at that age."

"I heard that," a female called.

The guys noticed Xander's head popped up and he sniffed the air.  "Which sister, Ray?"

"Frannie.  The one you met earlier.  Remember, don't string her on, be firm in your desire to never date," he ordered.

"Son!" his mother snapped.

"Ma, if you knew his dating history, you'd tell him to never date too," he protested.  "One of his ex's is a serial killer."

"Okay, that's worse than my last one," Stanley offered, grinning at Xander. "She try you?"

"Tried to kill my former friends over and over.  Kept using surrogates.  I had to beg my teacher to listen when the LAPD didn't.  He went to yell at them for me and caught her the next time.  Fortunately she's singing to the padded walls in her new rooms."  He looked around.  "Can I help?  Even though I have no idea what you're doing?"

"This is called doing dishes, dear," Ma said gently.  "Did your mother never do that?"

"You don't wash plastic and paper plates," he said, shrugging a bit.  "I don't either."  Ma clucked her tongue and gave him a gentle hug around the neck.  "Thank you, but I don't want to turn you evil either."

"You won't, caro.  I'm much too old for that."

He snorted. "Old?  Not a chance, Ray's Ma.  You must have adopted him, you look Stanley's age.  If not Benny's age.  He looks younger to me."

She smiled.  "That's very sweet, but I'm almost eighty."

"And I'm one of Santa's elves," he said dryly.  "There's no way you're that old.  If you were, you'd be cranky and grumpy and hate me.  Therefore you can't be older than forty at the most."

She beamed and pinched his cheek. "You're very sweet, but you need your eyes checked, Xander."  She went back to doing dishes.  "Did your mother never cook?"

"We microwaved.  We ordered.  She made a decent sandwich I guess."  Ma stared at him and he shrugged.  "She didn't cook and it was probably better that way.  I didn't want food poisoning more often."

"How do you survive on microwave food, take out, and sandwiches?" Stanley asked.

"Free lunch.  Chinese food has veggies.  Pizza can but my father hated them.  He was a meat only kinda guy.  It was okay.  I grew up big, strong, and odd."

"That must be from the malnutrition," Benny offered.  "You could sit, Xander."

"Should I?"

"Yes, dear, you sit at the table," Ma ordered patiently.  "It's what tables are for.  Just like when you eat out."

"I sit at those but they're not in kitchens."

"Sit, caro," she ordered.  He sat, sitting up straight, with his hands clasped on the table. "Good boy."  The wolf whined.  "Yes, you're a good boy too, Diefenbaker."  She tossed down a cookie and went back to dishes.  "So, Xander, you study bullets?"

"I make the connection between guns and what bullets they shot so we know who shot who.  I also do trace, which is any substance that can't carry DNA.  Fibers, animal hair, dandruff now and then, leaves, twigs, food.  Stuff like that.  That was my minor so I'd have more range.  It made me take more science classes but I did okay once I passed Chem 1."

"Where did you go to school, dear?"

"UCLA."

"Before that.  High school?"

"Sunnydale.  About three hours away from UCLA."  He grinned at her.  "Small town full of evil people."

"Ah."  She nodded wisely.  "Did you do good in high school?"  He laughed and shook his head.  "Not at all?"

"No, I barely graduated but I got nearly perfect on my SAT's.  I got in under the life experiences track so I could count some of my work experience and stuff for credit.  I still had to take Freshman english.  I've got a notebook of terms I hope to use in a sentence one day because I have no idea why we learned them otherwise."  Stanley burst out in giggles at that.  "I don't. Besides, poetry was boring!  Nearly as bad as Beowulf.  Fortunately we had a sci fi/fantasy lit class elective.  Even if we did have to read Tolkien in the original format instead of translated into current english."  Ray shook his head but he was smiling.  He watched raptly as Ma moved to the stove monster and started to stir stuff in pots, frowning as he tried to figure out what they were.

"Sauce, beans, which you don't have to eat, and cauliflower," Stanley said quietly.

"It's food, I can eat it," he promised.  "What's a cauliflower?"

"That white broccoli stuff," Ray told him.

"Oh, white trees.  Gotcha."  He nodded, understanding that now. "I've had that in veggie salads."

"That's raw, this is cooked, still the same stuff," Stan assured him, patting him on the arm.  "So, why the shootout, Ray?"

"Looked like a gang thing.  Xander confused them by saying he knew some Crypts in LA."  He had almost laughed at the look they gave him.  He looked at Xander, who had his head tipped just like the wolf watching her work.  He patted Xander on the back of the head.  "You need to date someone who can cook, evil or not."

"The stalker woman could.  She wanted to make me her baby so she could feed me every day.  Even had odd clothes picked out for me."  He continued to watch.  "Is that really difficult?"

"Easier than chemistry was," Stanley said dryly.

"How are you finding Las Vegas, Xander?  It must be vastly different than LA was."

"It is, it's a lot brighter there.  All the neon and stuff," he offered, looking at him.  "It's got some of the same stuff though.  The working girls, the working guys pretending to be girls.  The drugs, the gangs.  The casinos are nice.  They have these great buffet places that are kinda cheap but you can stay nearly forever to eat. I think my record's about four hours.  I brought a book and ate while I read, going back about every twenty minutes.  Then they made me pay again, which wasn't too bad.  It's bigger and more active than my hotel room."

"You're living in a hotel?" Ray asked.

"An efficiency motel, like for residents.  It's cheaper than I had and no utilities, plus cable.  My only problem is that my neighbor smokes so much weed he could make the city high.  So when the drug dogs come in, I have to change into something I keep in my locker. That way I stay unbitten and my boss understands that it's not *me* who's scenting me. I warned the guy that I work in the lab and he said it'd increase his credibility.  He's a musician.  Not too bad but they're down a drummer since he quit to go raise sheep in Utah with his woman.  She wanted to be a mormon and be polygamous from what he mumbled that night.  I pointed out that was illegal and he shrugged, said the guy was ruining his buzz anyway and was driving off his muses.  So Grissom told the dog handlers to warn him if they're coming back toward us so I can change.  He even told them where I live but they haven't busted him yet.  Said it took all the fun out of it when they wanted it."  Ma chuckled lightly at that.  "We get some weird crooks.  Last week, I got one guy who was sixteen, convinced he was a superhero, and had gadgets to prove it.  I got to go geek on him with Greg, one of the new field techs and a great DNA guy, and prove we were better heros.  It broke his spirit and he pled to a misdemeanor so he could get help.  His spandex was the wrong color for him and that's why I thought he should get help but Captain Brass said I needed a nap."

"From what I hear, he also said he'd better not see any spandex in your locker or on you either," Ray reminded him.

"Well, I told him I only had spandex shorts for jogging but that I had put them away when the stalker lady came.  I didn't want to make her follow me around even more, or anyone else.  One of the other CSI's offered to go jogging with me but he got pounced by one of the people who wanted to hunt me down and love me to death.  He's still smirking at me about her.  I didn't even date her."

"He's definitely got me beat," Stanley said smugly.  "Now they can gossip about someone else when you come back."

"Sure, I'm used to people talking behind my back.  Hodges did threaten to move with me if they didn't leave him alone the day I left.  He called to warn me that someone might beg."

Ray looked at him.  "Tell him if he's serious, we can probably use him but make sure he knows we don't pay the greatest salary.  You two are a great team and we like you working together.  You two solve very well together.  Besides, he helps you when bad things happen."

"Let's not go there," Xander said simply.

"Fine," Ray agreed.  "So, what do you listen to in the lab?"

"I'm one of those guys you can judge the mood by my music.  I do some comedy, I do some country, I do some rock, some light grunge and metal.  They told me they listen to the really old school stuff and opera here.  They said I could have whatever I wanted in the lab as long as I closed the door."

Ray nodded. "I can see them closing it on you for grunge."

"Sorry but that stuff makes me nap.  I'm a bit too lively for something that love-songy and mushy."

"True," Stanley agreed.  "I'm the same way.  You listen to country?"

"Yeah.  It's my sad music but now and then I turn it on to make Hodges come over and quit sulking in his lab."

"Are you and he...together?" Benny asked.

"No, not really.  I can appreciate about one out of every ten thousand men, but I figure the same thing'll happen to them as to the women I date so I don't plan on a permanent relationship.  I'd hate to warp anyone that badly.  I decided a few years back I'd be happy having a few dogs.  They're warm and snuggly in the winter and don't hog the sheets, nag you about what you're wearing or not wearing, and they don't whine at you to buy them things."

"Bah, those are not real women," Ma said firmly, looking at him.  "No real woman would do such, Xander."

"Then I only know fake women?" he offered.  "Women out in California are different, Ma, more shallow.  They're about the pretty.  Pretty thems, pretty things, pretty houses, pretty cars.  That's the sort of women I grew up around and knew.  Some of them didn't like me that much since I'm not the most pretty or rich, so therefore I can't buy them the most pretty things, but the ones I dated were like that."

"Those aren't real women, Xander.  You need a real woman.  You couldn't taint one of them into turning evil on you.  You'd be safer and happier, plus she'd be able to cook as well.  You need to stay here so Ray or Stanley can find you a real woman.  Then you could have dogs and real food."

"Chicago's at the top of my list, Ray's Ma.  Erm, I mean Mrs. Vecchio."

"If you stay, you may call me Ma.  If not, I'll send Ray after you to hunt you down," she said firmly.  "Stanley, go get the door, I hear a car."

"Yes, Ma."  He went to look through the window in the door. "It's the Lieutenant."

"Let him in," she ordered, pulling down an extra plate.

"Ma, I like this place, I have plans on staying as long as I don't get Ray into trouble for helping him and my tests tomorrow go okay," Xander told her.  "I'm going to try."

"You fit right in, Xander," Ray offered.  "You even made Mort laugh."

"I made him laugh harder when I told him about Ecklie's heart attack."

The Lieutenant walked in and handed Xander his license and gun.  "Did you *have* to do that?"

"Yeah, they were going to hurt his car," he defended.  "It's a beautiful car and they were in violation of the law anyway by shooting at each other in the street.  It's not like there were other cops there.  Did you want us to not stop them?"

"No," he said patiently.  "I expected you to corral them and wait for backup.  That's how we do things in Chicago, Mr. Harris."

Xander blinked his big, brown eyes up at him.  "How would I know?  I'm a lab tech."

The Lieutenant paused, then sighed and nodded. "Good point.  You probably don't know how backup works.  Therefore, Vecchio will be teaching you during your ride along on Sunday."  He smiled at Ma, who gave him a pat on the arm.  "Xander's very fast on the draw, Mrs. Vecchio.  Ray didn't have to fire once."

"I'm also nearly a marksman," Xander offered sheepishly.

"I saw.  That's a credit to a ballistic tech like you.  Then again, if you're a tech, you shouldn't be in the field."

"Yeah, but if I don't keep in practice, then the evil people who try to date me will someday win," Xander countered with a muted 'ha' at the end.

"Do I need to know about this?" the Lieutenant asked.

"I've got a stalker, one of my exes is a serial killer in a pretty padded room, another one liked to torture cheating men then tell me about it and what she planned on doing to them.  A few have tried to kill me.  A few I only got to date once and they tried to kill me."  Ma gave him a horrified look.  "That's why I'll have dogs," he said, nodding to show how serious he was.  "They won't turn evil and try to kill me and they won't steal blankets in the winter."

"Diefenbaker does," Benny assured him.  "The bigger the animal, the more they steal the covers and believe it's their bed and not yours."

"I'll get small dogs," Xander assured him. "Good little dogs who make me go jogging and things.  They make a mini greyhound, so I'll probably get something like that.  That way I have to jog to stay in shape."

Ray shook his head.  "There's easier ways, especially in the winter, Xander."

"I'm hoping to buy a small house with a yard, Ray," Xander reminded him. "I'll have my own gym put in.  Bowflexes aren't that expensive, one of those plus a weight bench and maybe a treadmill and I'll be a happy guy.  That way my dogs can get some exercise even when I can't jog."

The Lieutenant looked at him.  "You want to buy a house?"

"Yeah, I don't like motels and apartments.  There's not enough space and there's always someone complaining about something, like your music or what color you want a wall to be."

"Oh.  Well, that's a good sign that you plan on staying in your chosen city."

"Yeah, I'm making my decision fairly carefully because of that.  Besides, I hate moving.  I don't mind traveling but I hate moving. Moving sucks."

"It does," Stanley agreed.  "I've got to do that sometime soon. My place is too small."

"If you do, take Fraser with you," the Lieutenant ordered.  "That way he's got somewhere safe that has indoor plumbing, so he won't have to walk down the hall to take a shower."  He looked at Xander.  "Are you all right?"

"It's not my first," he promised.  "Really.  Plus, I only wounded."

"I saw.  That was good work, Harris."

"Thank you, sir.  Do I salute you?"

"No, kid," he said, shaking his head.  He smirked at him.  "I was warned you were a smart ass."

"Well, yeah," Xander agreed with a grin.  "Could you move a bit?  She's doing mystical things that I've never seen before."

"His mother didn't even own a stove," Ray told his boss.

"Why not?"

"She couldn't use it; I guess they decided it was a waste of money better spent on booze," Xander said with a shrug.  "Them, my uncle, most of my extended family.  Oh, if you run into a paternity warrant, she's a cousin or something.  Not mine.  The Feds tried that early last month."

"Your parents drank?" Stan asked.

"I had parents who were very unhappy with the course of their lives and how they got to the point of living in Sunnydale.  I don't remember them ever being sober.  It wasn't *too* bad.  Dad'd come in already drunk and pass out after some food.  Mom'd watch something and sleep during it.  By then I was usually in my room with whatever I was getting for dinner from the takeout menu and doing something on my own."  Ma gave him a hug.  "I'm okay.  I left once I was old enough.  If I come back, will you teach me how to cook?"

"Of course, caro," she promised, going back to the stove.  "Is there anything you won't ear, dear?"

"No, Mrs. Vecchio.  I'm not a picky eater guy.  Except for cabbage, and that's mostly the smell and the fact my mother tried it once.  That week in the hospital was very interesting."

"What was she doing to the cabbage?" Ray asked, face having that classic 'confused at the Xander' look.

"Fish."

"Fish?" Stanley asked, gaining that confused look.

"Yeah, fish.  Something dad and Uncle Rory caught in the river.  She boiled the fish, boiled the cabbage, put them together and I got sick.  I always thought it was the cabbage because it smelled off."

Ma gave him another hug.  "You needed to be taken away," she said, going back to her stove and the mystical art of cooking.

"How would you even consider putting those two together?" Stanley demanded.

"The neighbor was growing the cabbage in her garden.  Mom picked some when she found out they had actually caught something.  It was handy.  The sad thing was, she wasn't really drunk by that point.  She was just mildly buzzed and getting started.  The doctors said something about thorns and spines and not edible."  He shrugged.  "I don't know, I was eight."  He looked at his future boss. "Are you here for dinner too?"

"No, I've got to go back to work."

"Yes, you're staying," Ma said firmly. "Otherwise I'll make the children pout."

"I wish I could, but unfortunately I do have to go clean up the mess Xander made."

"Hey!  I shot to wound instead of kill.  That way there's a hope of them going right.  Maybe Ray's mother should go work on them and make them into good boys and girls.  She did a good job on Ray."

Ma smiled at him.  "That's sweet, but I wouldn't be allowed to spank them, which is what most of them need.  Did you make a mess?"

"Not much of one," he admitted sheepishly, ducking his head down subconsciously.  "I shot to wound instead of kill.  That way they're not a lot of work for anybody."

"He did a good job, Ma.  Very good," Ray praised.

"Hmm.  See, you can stay," she told the Lieutenant.  "There's not that much clean up or paperwork and I'm sure Xander will be doing some tomorrow."

"I fully expect to as well," Xander agreed. "Lieutenant, tell her she's fibbing.  She's not as old as she claims.  No older woman that old likes me.  They all throw things at me even when I'm being nice and helpful."

"It's my family that keeps my in better spirits, Caro.  Don't worry about it. You'll soon find a wonderful set of grandparents here in Chicago."  She pinched his cheek, making him blush.  "Hopefully they'll have a few unmarried daughters as well.  Then someone would know how to cook for you and your poor future puppies."  She went back to dish up food.

"You're laying it on a bit thick," Stan hissed.

"I'm not!" he hissed back.  "The last older woman I knew I asked if I could help her fix her porch and she agreed.  She still threw a flower pot at my head for being young and male.  They don't like me so therefore she can't be as old as she claims."  Ma kissed him on the cheek and put a plate down in front of him.  "Wow.  Food.  Real food."  He beamed at Ma.  "Thank you, Mrs. Vecchio."

"You're welcome, Xander.  Ray will bring you back tomorrow night as well.  You're much too skinny."

"Sometimes I have to crawl through pipes," he said, shrugging a bit.  "I'm the tiniest one outside of Greg."

"Greg is a pretty skinny guy," Ray agreed, taking his plate and digging in. "You might as well sit, sir."

"Fine," he agreed, taking his plate with a smile and a kiss on the cheek for Ray's mother.  It was only proper.  She smiled and fed Xander until he begged for mercy, and about cleaned out all the leftovers in the house.  Which was saying something with how she cooked.

***

Xander flopped back onto his bed and pulled out his cellphone, checking the time on it.  He called the office, getting Bobby.  "Hey, me," he said tiredly.  "No, I got fed by Ray's mom and she *cooks*, Bobby.  Like real food!"  He heard the chuckle.  "Fine, your mother did that too but mine didn't!"  He frowned.  "How're things going?  No problems with my last few reports or anything?"  He grinned.  "I know but I was rushing.  Tell Hodges that it'll be Teletubbies this week.  Sure."  He beamed as he was switched over.  "Miss me yet?"  He laughed at the sour comment. "Teletubbies this week. I know, that's a sick idea, but it'll make 'em relent and give you back your own computer faster. Nope, Tuesday night.  Yeah, right away.  Why?  Another problem or did my stalker go after Nick again?"  He listened to how she had demanded that they produce 'her snuggly little boo bear' to the entire station and Grissom had let Catherine handle her, hopefully inserting some reality.  Apparently Catherine now wanted to mother him too.  "Oh, man.  No.  Not Catherine.  No, I'm good.  Ray's Ma *cooked*, Hodges.  Like *real* food.  She had pots and pans and spoons and everything!  It was great!  I got to sit there and watch her and she said if I came back she'd teach me how to cook, introduce me to some older ladies who wouldn't throw flower pots at me, and who probably had daughters I couldn't taint because they were good girls with depth and reality."

He smiled at the technical question.  "Actually, it's pretty neat.  They're redesigning.  Right now they've got an open work area for common projects and a few labs for things like DNA, ballistics, and AV stuff.  I think trace was sharing, that may be why they're updating the department.  No, I go in tomorrow afternoon for a few hours so they can look me and my ways over.  I've got a ride-along with Ray on Sunday.  No, I'll probably be doing reports tomorrow.  We ended up stopping a gang fight.  No, wounds only.  I already got it back.  I was promised paperwork though, so I'm guessing I'll have a bit of it tomorrow.  No, just lonely.  Even the wolf went home with his guy.  Holiday Inn.  Not too bad. Not the Ritz, but I expected that.  Oh, Ray said if you're serious, they'd gladly take us as a team since we do so well together, but you've got to realize they're not swimming in funds.  Sure, I told him that you were telling the others that so you'd be left alone and he offered."  He grinned.  "But I'll miss you, Snape."  He beamed.  "Sure, tomorrow night.  Have fun making others cry.  I know you enjoy it.  Have fun if my stalker comes back tonight.  I give you permission to make her cry and beg."  He chuckled.  "Sure, later, Hodges.  Night."  He hung up and called the desk from the room phone.  "Can I get a ten am wake up please?  Thank you."  He hung up and set the alarm clock twenty minutes later, just in case.  Then he wiggled out of his clothes and fell asleep right there on top of the blankets.

***

Xander walked back into his own station and picked back up his badge with a wink.  "How was your weekend, Priscilla?"

"Not half as exciting as yours.  I got to see the fax Vecchio's boss sent Brass," she said smugly.

"Not my fault," he whined, shaking his head.  "I was a good boy all weekend long.  I even helped in their labs."  She grinned at him.  "I'm just visiting today.  I'm not here.  Shh," he said, laying a finger against his lips.  He looked down the hall then snuck back to Hodges' lab, looking around before running inside and closing the door.  He grinned at Catherine.  "I'm only visiting."

"I can tell.  Hiding from Brass?"

"No," he said, looking pitiful.  "I nearly brought you back a really cute guy.  He's a blond, a bit bouncy like me, only gave me a dumbass look twice the whole weekend.  He's really cute, kinda hides that he's a bit smart, and he's one of those mushy guys.  He's still sighing over his ex, who's a bitch.  You could do him good."  She blushed and Hodges gave him a look saying he'd be laughing later.  "I can wait while you work with her."

"I'm only waiting on him to brag and tell me he found out what that sticky substance was on that shirt."

"Are you sure you want to know?"  She nodded, giving him a stare.  "Mustard, semen, and anal secretions," he said, handing over the report.

"So, someone got kinky in the kitchen?" Xander asked.  "Mustard's not a good lube.  Any tissue?"

"A bit but burned so you couldn't get DNA, sorry."

"No, that's okay.  You're right, I'm not sure I want to know," she admitted. "I'll see you tomorrow, Xander."  She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Xander looked at him.  "Will you teach me how to act around normal people?  I realized this weekend that I have no idea how to behave around normal people or in social settings outside of a fast food place or a dance floor."

Hodges came over and kissed him on the top of the head.  "It's a good thing for you to ask and of course I will.  It's not that hard.  At least you don't chew with your mouth open most of the time."  He went back to work.  "How was Chicago?  I know Brass was saying something about antacid."

"First night there, gang fight right in the middle of the street we were driving down."

Hodges groaned and shook his head.  "You had to play field tech?"

"No, he was the only cop there.  I got to play backup.  I only wounded though.  Then we went to have dinner with his mother and did you know she really cooked, like everything there?  She thought my mother should have been taken away and social services keeping me because she couldn't cook.  Especially after I told her about the fish and cabbage thing."

"Fish and cabbage?"

"Yeah, the last time my mother tried to cook.  Well, I guess next to last.  The other was mac n'cheese though.  My father and uncle caught a fish; my mother went to steal cabbage from neighbor's garden.  Tasted gross, I ended up in the hospital later that night and for the next week.  They said something about roots and thorns and stuff."

Hodges just stared at him.  "Please tell me you're kidding?"  Xander shook his head.  "You got food poisoning?"  Xander nodded.  "Wow.  Maybe takeout was better for you."  Xander nodded at that.

"Harris!" Brass yelled.  "I know you're here!"

Xander calmly got onto the floor and hid under Hodges' desk.  "So, how was your weekend?"

"Boring.  It's been quiet in town," he offered.  "Bobby's kicked back with a book at the moment."  The door opened.  "Yes, Captain Brass?  Did you finally have something for me to do?"

"Where is he?"

"Not a clue.  He said hi and left."

"His badge is still gone from the front desk, Hodges.  Pull the other one," he said sarcastically.

"Have you talked to Greg yet?"

"Not yet," he said grimly, heading that way.  "Tell him I will be seeing him when he gets in."

"Yes, Captain."  The door closed again and Brass walked off.  Hodges got comfortable, looking down at him.  "What did you do?" he hissed.

"Two of their techs got into a brawl and I stopped it.  A few cops got into it with some suspects and I had to gather evidence.  That shooting thing."  He shrugged. "Mostly I ate a lot.  She's a really good cook.  Speaking of cooks, the next time I go back, you wanna come with me for a few days?  That way you can look around?  They're renovating and you know what a lab should look like more than me."

"I'd have to take time off."

"Hodges, you have decades of leave built up, take some of it before you turn into Ecklie, dear."

Hodges smirked at Greg as he was followed by Brass.  "He's back with Greg.  We'll see."  Greg walked in.  "Needed something?"

"Results of a stain?"

"I gave it to Catherine.  Someone used mustard as lube.  Mia said she couldn't pull DNA."

"Boy lube or girl lube?  Brass wanted to know."

"Anal secretions, can't tell otherwise," Hodges told him.  "Semen present but still burned by the mustard."

"Eww," Brass said, shaking his head.  "So, where is he?"  He leaned in the doorway.

"Probably off finding more disgusting porn so they finally give me my own computer and he can have his laptop back," Hodges said dryly.  "He was promising something about Teletubbies."

"That's...disgusting," Greg said, shuddering.  "Nearly as bad as that stain."  He caught sight of Xander and then looked at Brass. "Maybe he did just pop in and leave, Captain."

"I bet," he said dryly, heading back to the front desk.

"Have fun?" Greg asked.  Xander nodded. "Good.  Tomorrow.  Don't let him catch you today."  He walked out.

Xander peeked out, then hid again when he saw Brass coming back.  "Damn it, I was good," he whined quietly.

"I saw that, Harris.  Get out from under there," he ordered.  Xander sighed and came up.  "Thank you.  I don't want to know what you were doing down there.  You are not a cop.  Did this not occur to you!"

"Yeah, but it was only us there," he whined.  "You wanted me to let others be hurt? I helped!  Get off my ass, Cap!  I'm being good and nice and helpful!"  The captain glared at him.  "Sorry," he said, wilting a bit.  He tried a hopeful look.  "They said it wouldn't be a problem."

"I didn't.  My office.  Now."  Xander sighed and trudged that way, walking in front of him.

Nick looked out from the breakroom. "Man, he looks like a whipped puppy.  What'd he do?"

"Idiot gangbangers tried to keep me from seeing what real people did in a kitchen," Xander called back.

"Excuse me!" Brass yelled.

"Oops.  Not that?" Xander asked hopefully.  Brass glared at him.  "What?  I was good!"

Brass's eyes narrowed.  "I was talking about the brawls in the station."

"Oh, them.  I only helped pull the people apart.  I can do that.  It's not like they could have grabbed my weapon since it had it on my back again.  I was careful."

"Harris, you're going to give me an ulcer," Brass announced.  "Office, now."

"Yes, Cap."  He trudged that way again.

"Well, at least someone didn't have a boring weekend," Nick said dryly, cracking Warrick up since he was trying to nap on the couch.

***

Xander came back the next day and the receptionist gave him a long look.  "Xander, are you gay?" she asked bluntly.

He frowned and shook his head. "Not really.  Every once in a while I see a guy I think is cute and nice, but I don't think I could ever be fully gay.  Why?"

"There's rumors about you and Hodges and Greg being a trio."

"And the fact that Greg's dating a girl, Hodges doesn't date, and I don't date?  Or the fact that we all know *why* I don't date after my stalker kept coming back?"

"She's camouflage and you make Hodges happy and nicer.  Besides, he's already evil and mean."

He shook his head, taking his pass back.  "Not true.  You can ask Greg though."

"I did, he went to take something for his headache."

"We're just buddies, Priscilla.  Don't worry about it."  He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before heading back to the lab.  "Hey, Bobby.  Any work?"

"No cases yesterday or today.  So, how was your date with Hodges?"

"Date?  Oh, he took me to dinner. I asked him to help me polish some social skills.  We all know I wasn't raised right."

"Good point," he agreed.  "He's hiding."

Xander shook his head, heading that way.  He stuck his head into Hodges's lab.  "Hey, pookie, should we go make fun of them?"

"Hmm.  Tenth anniversary?" he suggested, looking up at his buddy.  "How did they get this idea?"

"You helping me last night at dinner.  Though, Priscilla was told we're a trio with Greg."

Hodges gave him a blank look, then suddenly shuddered.  "Eww!  That's worse than the porn you found this time!  Out, shoo!"

Xander grinned and headed out, going to the break room.  He looked over Greg's shoulder.  "It done yet?" he asked.

"No, few minutes," he offered. "So, you and Hodges?" he teased without looking.

"According to some, me, you, and Hodges."  Catherine and Sarah both choked on their water across the room.  Greg gave him a confused look and he nodded. "Yeah."

"I'd never date you.  You'd make me turn funny.  I'd be odd if I went evil."

"Why are we discussing this?" Grissom asked as he walked in.

"There's rumors that Hodges helping me polish some social skills last night at dinner was us out on a date and it's now morphed into a trio of Hodges, Greg, and I.  So I thought I'd make sure everyone knew where my feelings stood.  Need a good morning kiss, Greg?"

"Hell no," he said, giving him a nudge and a smirk.  "I'd still turn evil and that would make me odd and bad.  I'd look horrible in the uniform they'd put me in when I went to live with your ex's in the mental ward and my hair would refuse to be interesting ever again."

"It would and we'd hate to see you that way," Xander agreed.

Grissom looked at them.  "I have the feeling that the background is a bit worse than this.  What's going on?  It usually takes more than a dinner to start these sort of rumors."

"Well, he was hiding under Hodges' desk yesterday from Captain Brass," Greg offered.  "Then he and Xander went to dinner?"

"Where he worked on my social skills.  Ray's Ma kept clucking when I didn't know how to use the kitchen table instead of a dining room table.  That and I didn't know how to get stuff out of a casserole dish."

"Why not?" Sarah asked.

"My mother did not cook," Xander told her.  "We didn't even own a stove."  She stared in awe.  He nodded.  "Seriously.  We *never* owned a stove.  I learned what one was in Home Ec and I can almost make brownies or cookies but that's because of Willow's interference."

"I think it's good that you like Hodges enough to let him help you in your weak areas, Xander," Grissom congratulated.  "You don't seem to be the sort to ask for help but that shows a lot of promise that you did.  I'm proud of you.  I'm also proud of you for wounding nine people, stopping two brawls, doing all the paperwork asked of you without whining, and then doing four hours in their lab to prove you knew your areas.  Did you like it?"

"Kinda.  They said they're renovating.  I kept getting the 'sorry it's not as good as New York' thing but I pointed out New York has grants out the butt.  Chicago can't compete with that.  They need me though and they promised I wouldn't have to deal with one strange thing.  Ray's Ma even promised to help me meet nice older ladies who I could do my good deed for the week for and they wouldn't try to hit me with flower pots, and that there were probably daughters who couldn't be turned evil by dating me.  Plus, she *cooked*.  She cooked lots of stuff.  She even said she'd help teach me if I went back."

"I'm proud of you," Grissom assured him.  "There's still nothing so check in with Bobby then help Hodges if he's got anything.  I'll want an evaluation from them but I don't think they sent it with you?"  He pulled it out of his back pocket and handed it over.  "Thank you, Xander.  Go to work once you've gotten a drink."

"Of course.  I came in here to ask Greg how we were going to combat those rumors."

"I have a girlfriend. I don't know why they included me."

Bobby walked in.  "Because you three have lunch in that little corner under the tree," he noted. "Plus, Xander grins at you and he likes you.  That was enough apparently.  They're saying he's got the opposite effect on guys, that he turns them nice because of Hodges being happy."

"It's pure BS," Hodges called from down the hall. "Your cell's going off, Bobby."

"Thanks, man."  He jogged back to get it, smiling at the tired voice on the other end.  "Hi, mom.  How are you today?  No, he's back safely, just getting some coffee.  We were up there chatting.  Anything new?"  He sat down to listen to her ramble on, grinning the whole time.  "Good!"  He nodded Xander to head next door and got a nod in return, so he reached over to shut the door.  "Mom, are you feeling okay?  You sound really tired."

Xander walked into Hodges' office and pulled him away from the wall.  "She'll be fine.  He'd tell us if she weren't."  He looked at him, then at the people in the halls.  "Get over it.  We're only friends.  Remember, I've got a stalker to deal with."  They hurried off.  "So, I did good.  Even though I did make Brass wanna drink."  He sat down to look at him.  "Anything new going on in here?"

"Not really.  No calls out in the last few hours.  They're interviewing for day shift trace now.  I'm not holding my breath."  He sat down behind the computer, canceling the screensaver. "How did you find such odd things?"

"I did a google search," Xander said proudly.  He sipped his coffee and put it in a 'safe' area, then stood up to stretch.  "Their labs are pretty nice.  I'm waiting to see how the renovation turns out.  The plans looked really interesting when I saw them. I also asked about a few odd things.  Their new Trace lab will have an independent exhaust system that links with ballistics, but it'll have a block to make sure nothing can come back through it."  Hodges looked impressed at that.  "All new computers too.  A new mass spec.  A new intern who's so flamingly a lesbian she asked me if I were a sister to the cause."  Hodges snickered at that. "Be careful, people might think I said something naughty," he teased.

"You are naughty," he taunted. "Fine, I'll arrange to come out with you when you go back to look it over.  It sounds nice and Ecklie's gotten on my last nerve.  Did you know he pulled most of your cases to do a review?"  Xander nodded.  "How did you know?"

"He told me he was going to the day before I left.  He wanted me to feel like an idiot and incompetent when I went out there to check it out, but yet he doesn't want to keep me."

"Hell, I wouldn't mind if we did keep you. You could have day shift. Then I wouldn't complain about the quality of work being done."  Greg walked in with a bag.  "Something new?"

"Something ancient," he said grimly.  "Cold case of Nick's.  He wanted to know if you and Xander could find any more of the solution that he found dried on it at first, but which seems to have disappeared."  He held up a folder.  "My analysis at that time.  Hopefully it helps."

"Anything that'll show under a UV or other lights?" Xander asked, taking it to look over.  "Why can't he shine a blacklight on it?"

"Because he thinks it's relevant but he doesn't know why, and he joked about you guys and a dark room," he said dryly.

Xander looked at Hodges.  "Incubus tonight?"

"Sounds delightful.  Just do it quietly."

Greg grinned at them.  "I'll help if I can."

"No, go back to playing with field tech stuff, Greg.  You already know how to do this," Hodges dismissed.

"Fine, spoil my fun and don't have a chaperone."

"Honey, we'd need someone other than you with some of those rumors heading around," Xander said patiently as he slipped a CD into the laptop's player.

"We can drape in here, that way the rumors start to fade," Hodges assured them both.

"Sure.  Want Mia?"

"No, we're good," Hodges assured him.  "Shoo, Greg."

"Fine, be that way then," he said with a smirk, heading out to go help Nick with the other things.

Xander looked at the ceiling.  "We don't have any hooks.  Dental floss?"

"In my locker.  We can use double sided tape."

"It's too hot, it'll unstick.  I tried that in my place and it wouldn't work."  He considered it.  "If we had some 's' hooks it'd be easier."  He looked at him.  "Do we have any in maintenance?"

"You're asking the wrong person," Hodges reminded him. "I only talk to them when they mess up my floors and over wax them."

"Point, I'll be right back and I'll bring the dark cloth from Archie too."  He went in search of a maintenance guy, finding one mopping out front.  "Hey," he said, making him jump and look around.  "Yes, you," he said patiently.  "We need some 's' hooks to hang a dark cloth in trace.  Do you guys have any?"

"S hooks?" he asked.  "Why?"

"Link into the ceiling, other loop to hold the dark cloth."

"Ceiling might not hold that."

"I'll put it on the cross-beams," he promised.  "I was in construction for a few years."

"Oh, you're him," he said with a smirk.  "Gonna go play in the dark are we?"

Xander shook his head.  "No, we're going to blacklight some suspicious stains."

"Oh.  Not as much fun as those rumors say you are."

Xander beamed. "That's pleasure, this is work.  I don't get to mix the two.  Unlike guys who wax the floors so the girls slip and their skirts flip up."  The guy winced and nodded, leading him to their offices to get those for him.  Xander signed them out and went back to the lab, stopping to get the cloth.  "Hey," he said, leaning in.  "Dark cloth?"

"Bottom cabinet, left side of the sink," Archie said, watching some tape of something.  "What're you guys doing?"

"Blacklights."

"Hmm.  We having a rave too?"

"No, something for Nick."  He grabbed the cloth and some booties since they were kept in the closet on the way past.  He walked in and put everything on the desk, then put the booties over his shoes so he could climb up onto the table.  "Hand me the hooks."  Hodges held them up and he carefully placed them at the joining spots of two panel holding lines. He shifted down to put more in.  "Fabric?"  It was handed up to him and he draped it across the hooks.  They were some fabric loops in it so he used those when one side slipped.  "There," he announced, allowing Hodges to help him down.  He took off the booties and arranged the fabric over the table.  "It drapes the wrong direction," he sighed.

"It's fine, Xander.  It works well.  Thank you."  He plugged in the light while Xander spread out the sample, bringing it over once it was glowing.  They stared at the pattern of the spots.  "Go get Nick."

"Sure."  Xander moved around the edge of the fabric, finding Grissom looking confused.  "We're blacklighting for Nick.  We need him.  Which spot is he hiding in?"

"Auxiliary one.  Were you on the table?"

"I had on sterile booties.  No decontam needed."

"Oh, good.  Thank you, Xander."

Xander nodded, heading to find Nick and Greg.  He stuck his head in after a brief knock.  "You've got gaps that show a pretty picture," he told Greg, who was alone.

"Nick's in autopsy two."

"Sure."  He headed that way while Greg made their work area safe and headed to Hodges' lab.  Xander tapped and leaned in.  "Nick, did you expect gaps in the pattern that look like multiple baseball bat strikes?"

"No, I didn't.  Are there?"  He nodded.  "Coming.  Thanks, Doc, be right back."  He hurried out, letting Xander fall behind.  He walked around the fabric and took the light, shining it across the fabric. "Why didn't I see this before?"

Xander came around and scratched up an edge of the substance.  "Let me run it.  Maybe it wasn't showing up there because it shouldn't."

"Maybe," Nick agreed. "Got a marker and a way to hang this, Hodges?"

"Hang, no.  Marker, of course."  He handed one over.  "Blue?"

"Sure.  Greg, hold the light above and out of the way."  The light moved and the lines shifted a bit.  "What is that?"

"Let me run it," Xander promised, heading over to the DNA and chem labs.  "Hey, Mia, mass spec moving?"

"Yeah, I've got one sample in there right now.  Why?"

"An old case of Nick's.  We got shiny stuff under blacklight that hadn't been there and some that seems to shift with the light.  We got a small scraped sample," he offered, holding it up.

"Ooh, just like I like," she promised, taking it from him.  "So, are you two, or three, um, going at it?"

Xander shook his head.  "No.  We're buddies, nothing more."  He went back there.  "Mia's got a sample going in the machines, she'll run it next."  He looked, then frowned.  "That looks like stripper body paint."

"How would you know?" Nick asked.

"Easy, my car blew up right after high school during a road trip.  I had to get it fixed somehow.  I met Greg there and he only realized it halfway through the interview."

Hodges looked at him.  "You did what?"

"It was only for a few months and I sucked at it," Xander assured him.  "I did better at phone sex when I did that for a few weeks."  Catherine and Ecklie both backed up to stare at him.  "They wanted to know how I knew that the glimmery stuff looked like stripper body paint."

Catherine walked in and looked.  "It does.  Does it shift with the light?"  Greg shifted the angle and she nodded. "If it is what he thinks it is, it's got little flecks of silica in it and that's why it changes.  You need to get it fully dark for at least four hours then blacklight it to see the real pattern but what you're seeing is pretty good with those gaps."

"Can we do a silica test?" Xander asked.  "See where it's not?"

"There's not really one.  We can't do the spray treatment we do with blood," Greg said.  "What about fingerprint gas?  The SuperGlue fuming technique?  That'd stick and we could take pictures of where the haze stuck."

"We'd have to test it first," Nick told him, looking at him.  "That's not a bad idea.  If we can't get this any other way, we'll do a test to see if we can.  Any other indicators?"

"Usually a petroleum base so it didn't wear off or dry out," Xander told him.  "Came in lots of colors. I used to use clear with mostly clear flakes but some blue mixed in and spotted on me."

"I used one that had pink flakes," Catherine offered. "It made my skin glow.  I only used it for special parties."

"I used it pretty much every night.  I was skinny and didn't have great definition so it hinted at it.  Like women's make up."

"That's not a bad idea," Catherine admitted.  "When did you do that?"

"Road trip.  My car exploded.  I met Greg there when his broke down.  He realized it part of the way through the interview."

Greg blushed.  "I was drinking in misery, it was the day before classes started and I was on my way home from a trip."

"Then it must have been fate that brought you here, Xander."  Catherine pinched him on the arm.  "Nice job with the draping.  How'd you get up there?"

"Sterile booties."

"Fine.  Good job."  She went out to calm Ecklie down, making him sigh and nod before stomping off.  "You'll give him another one, Xander.  Be more careful."

"Sorry, Catherine."  He waited until she was gone.  "I wasn't even trying either.  I'll have to remember that and make notes," Xander said fondly, but quietly.  Greg and Hodges both snickered at that and Nick only moaned, shaking his head.  "Remember, you'll never run a lab where I'll be your tech," he soothed, patting him on the back.

"True, I won't," he agreed.  "Thank you, Xander.  I'll remember that during the bad days."  He looked at the fabric. Then at Greg.  "Let's go start that test.  Can we leave this in here?"

"Unless I get something else, then I'll bundle it off to the side," Hodges promised.

"Thanks, guys.  I'll pop in on Mia."  They walked off, going to bother the DNA tech for results then headed to find a way to figure out the whole of the fabric's pattern.

"Petroleum based?" Hodges asked.

"Oil slid off when you sweated.  This stuff stayed on.  Like the stuff you put on baby's butts.  I guess that's how it started."

"Wow.  Interesting.  I never knew you could do that."

"Body paint in all its forms is fascinating, especially those people who can paint clothes on so well you can't tell it's not.  I knew a female dancer who'd do that now and then, and it'd be like clothes under her clothes but she'd be totally naked. It got around the total nudity ban where I was.  I've got two on the computer of her.  It was fascinating watching her draw it on."

"I saw those.  They were good," Hodges admitted, looking at the fabric.  "How do you get it off?"

"Scrubbing," Xander said dryly.  "Lots and lots of scrubbing."  That got another dry chuckle and he sat down.  "Want me to take it down?"

"No, it can be covered," he assured him, pulling down one side so it covered the fabric but it was still partially up.  They saw Ecklie standing there.  "Talking about various body decorating substances that could be on this shirt, sir."

"I heard.  Harris," he said calmly.  "When was this?"

"I was four weeks post graduation," he told him.  "From high school."

"Oh.  So long ago?  Did you list that on your internship application?"

"I listed the club and put various under it since I did about four jobs there.  I did dishes, I waited tables, I did some mild bartending by pouring beers, and I did some dancing now and then when we were short a few guys.  I sucked at it so I didn't have to do it often."

"I see.  On one of them, your job was listed as 'yes'?"

"I did so many jobs at Wolfram and Hart that I couldn't list them all.  I did security, plumbing, elevator repair a few times, bomb and biological component disarming, file clerking, vampire taunting, and just hefted and toted beyond fighting with them."  Ecklie's eyes bulged. "If you have another one, they're going to pick on me, sir."

"I'm not," he said firmly.  "Does Grissom know this?"

"I told him about that one. He never asked about the club. Greg knew.  He broke down in the same town.  I spent about two hours cheering him up by telling him stupid client stories.  He bought me a beer."

"Oh."  He pursed his lips, considering the young man.  "What's that combat record again?"

"Remember that day with the crossbow?" Hodges asked.  "That." Ecklie went pale and backed out.  "Please close the door.  We've got to discuss a case we're reviewing."

"Fine," he squeaked hurrying off, forgetting the door totally.

Xander got up to close it, giving him a look.  "At least they'll pick on you if he has one this time."

"Yeah, well, someone had to," he said dryly, smirking at him.  "Did you know you missed Greg's birthday?"

"No, I didn't.  Shit, I need to pick him up something."

"You do," Hodges agreed.  "Did they like your idea about the dogs and the house?"

"They did.  Vecchio was amused by it and that other guy thought it'd be cute.  His partner promised to take me to the pound so I wouldn't bring them all home."

"Good.  At least they liked you and wanted you to come back."

"They're pretty nice there.  When I got to do the ride-along, I got to meet the other local detectives and they were mostly being slowly driven insane.  I'll fit in well there I think, plus I'll get real food now and then."

Hodges gave him a look.  "So, any other prospects?" he taunted.

"Huh?"

"Do you like the detective, Xander?" he asked more bluntly.

"He's a nice guy.  I can see me looking at him like a big brother maybe."  He shrugged. "He's got a really great car, an old Riv."

"That's not what I'm asking and you know it," Hodges said firmly, staring him down.  Xander shrunk in a bit and shrugged.  "You don't know?"

"He was married.  He's a nice guy and I like him.  I could find myself *liking* him," he admitted, "but he was married and he's got two insane sisters, a bunch of nieces and nephews who move around so you can't get an accurate count, and a really great mother who'd probably be disappointed in me if I did.  So I'm gonna stick to liking his car."

"If you want, you could actually talk about those things," Hodges reminded him.

"That would require a sleepover and then the rumors would get really odd," Xander pointed out, looking totally serious.  He noticed that same 'confused by the Xander' look on his buddy's face.  "All my friends were girls.  That's the only way I know how to talk about that stuff."

"We've got to start taking you out to do guy stuff," Hodges moaned, shaking his head.

Nick looked in. "Problems with that sheet being in the way?"

"No, I asked Xander if he found anyone in Chicago he could get a crush on, and he said that'd take a sleepover to tell me."

"Why?" Nick asked, sounding a bit hesitant but very confused.

"All my friends were girls," Xander reminded him.  "That's the only way I know how to do that."

Nick nodded once and looked at Hodges. "I know sports places aren't your thing.  Need a recommendation?"

"Please.  He needs to learn guy things and guy ways.  It's time we completed his education in how men do those things."

"We do those things?" Nick asked.

"Some men do," he said firmly.

"Sure, I can see that.  Um, that place near the Cowboy.  Go there. It's nice, mellow, has decent food so he'll eat.  It even does alternative sports.  It's got some soccer, some horse stuff."

"Curling?" Xander asked.  "The Mountie introduced me to it."

"What's curling?" Nick asked.  "Is that a sport?"  Girls doing their hair was a sport?  He knew some really competitive girls, but he never knew that was a sport.  He couldn't picture guys paying money to go see that, and how would you have a competition in an arena?

"It's where you slide this big weighted thingy and then a guy skates out to sweep in front of it so you can knock the other player's weight out of the special spot."

"So it's like marbles played on skates with brooms?" Hodges asked.

"Not a clue.  I know what skates are," Xander offered.  "Buffy used to skate and read skating stuff and watch skating and gymnastics and cheerleading."

"That place'll be a good start," Nick offered.  "Then you can slowly work up to real sports and beers."

"I know what beers are, Nick," Xander said dryly.

"Yeah, but it's a special guy thing when you get a bunch of guys gathered around the tv watching sports and drinking beers," Nick assured him.  "We'll have you up to speed before the superbowl this year."  He walked off shaking his head, stopping Brass in the halls.  "Did you realize Xander isn't really a guy?  He's learned everything from girls?  Hodges asked if he had met anyone cute in Chicago and he said that'd require a sleepover."

Brass shook his head.  "It doesn't surprise me," he noted.  "We can help him fix that.  Did you tell Hodges where to start?"

"Yeah, and he mentioned curling, which Hodges said was marbles on ice played with skates and brooms?  My mind kinda clouded over on that thought."

"It's an international sport, Nick.  Don't worry about it," he offered, walking past him.  He looked in on the cute pair.  "Xander, don't worry.  We'll make sure you understand guys like Nick by the time you leave.  Do you watch football?"

"Not really.  It's the same boring thing.  One guy throws a ball.  One guy catches the ball. The rest of the guys go pounce him in a show of testosterone and gay feelings."  Hodges burst out in giggles, turning to lean on a nearby filing cabinet to hold himself up.  "Tara said so," he defended.

"It's all right.  We'll explain it to you in a guy way," Brass promised.  "How about basketball?  You watch that, right?"

"Not really.  The jocks used to pick on me until I joined the swim team.  I only swam a few matches but that's mostly because my whole team turned into sea creatures.  I did the 400 crawl and the 1000 meter backstroke."

"Well, that's good," Brass agreed.  "Any other sports we can start with?"

"I watched a lot of skating, cheerleading, and gymnastics with Buffy and Dawn.  Willow watched the horse jumping stuff now and then when it was on.  Giles watched golf," he said with a grimace.  "That's a really boring game."

"It is," Brass agreed. "It's not too bad to play though.  Kinda like meditating."

"I don't meditate any more," Xander said seriously.  "I either see naked people who distract me or I see pretty colors that scare me.  I never meditate any more.  I was warned not to meditate after the last time the colors freaked me out and they followed me after I came out of it.  I had flashbacks for weeks thanks to that.  No more meditation."

"What did you want to be when you were younger, Xander?" Hodges asked, calming himself down.

"Batman."  They both stared at him.  "Or a guitar player, but mostly Batman."

"We'll work on making you understand guys like Nick," Brass promised.  "There's a few more of them in Chicago.  They seem to breed them there."

"Sure."  He nodded.  "That'd be fun.  Can we watch curling?"

"If it's on," he promised.  He grinned and walked off, going to enlist Warrick's help with that, and possibly Sarah's since she was one of the tougher women he'd ever met.  She had to like sports by her attitude.  He stopped Warrick in the hall, pulling him aside.  "Hodges and Nick are working on Xander to help him see sports are good.  Where he was always around girls, he never really got that guy vibe we did.  He thought sleepovers were needed to talk about cute people he'd seen."  Warrick groaned and shook his head.  "So, can you help now and then?  Don't be pushy, just help now and then?"

"Sure," Warrick agreed. "Is he okay?"

"Someone introduced him to curling.  He used to swim, so that's an in.  The girls used to watch girl sports and a friend of his told him how gay football really was."

"Yeah," Nick snorted as he joined in.  "They told him what?"  He looked around.  "Xander?"  Xander stuck his head out of Hodges's lab.  "You said what about football?"

"Tara explained football to me.  She said one guy threw the ball.  One guy caught the ball.  The then other guys went to pounce him in a show of testosterone, aggression, and gay feelings being pushed down again so they felt big, strong, and violent."

Nick's mouth fell open.  He slowly shook his head.  "No, Xander, that's not football.  I played football and that's not football.  I'll show you how football is supposed to be today, okay?  After work?" Xander shrugged and nodded.  "Good boy.  We'll get that one straightened out.  She was wrong but that's a very girly thing to say."

"Wasn't Tara one of the lesbians you knew?" Brass asked.  Xander beamed and nodded.  "Well, she is right about the aggression but that's just playful pouncing in some games."

"Yeah, I did that playful pouncing thing for Anya a lot but she thought it wasn't sports."

Hodges pulled Xander back into his lab and shut the door.  "It's all right, we'll teach you about guy things so you can compare and contrast with how the girls taught you.  Even though I think Tara was right on occasion.  Is she still around?  You never talk about her."

"No, she died a few years back.  She's why Willow broke."

"Oh.  I'm sorry, she sounded like a good and neat friend."  Xander grinned, nodding a bit.  "Hopefully you'll find more like her some day."

"Actually, you and Greg are a lot like her.  You've got that same patient thing going on and all that.  Plus you actually talk to me, something she did and almost no one else did.  Plus, you all like girls."

"True," Hodges agreed, letting him have that one.  Being compared favorably to a lesbian was fine in his book.  Greg might see it differently but that was fine; he needed another annoyance in his life to make him go a bit more insane.

The guys up the hall gave each other a look.  They'd have to fix that boy.  It was up to them to make sure Xander didn't head anywhere else like that.  Other guys might be upset and try to hurt him for those views.  Brass went to write Vecchio and warn him about Xander's lack of male role models, getting one back that said he had noticed that and Xander hadn't understood anything about basketball either.

***

Xander made his second trip back to Chicago, meeting the detective at the airport.  "Hi again," he said happily, hugging him.  "This time you came to get me?"

"Ray's in court today," Stanley offered, leading him off.  "Bags?"

"Just the one this time.  Am I back in the Holiday Inn?"

"Sure are," he agreed.  "So, how's Las Vegas?"

"Good.  The guys are trying to reprogram me as a guy since I only ever got sports from the girls who were my only friends.  I still don't get the appeal of football and that stuff."

"Some guys don't," Stanley offered.  "Ray plays basketball."

"I don't get that either.  It's the same game over and over again for an hour.  It's like replay of the same four minutes."

Stanley looked at him.  "Nah, actually it's a bit different each time you switch off the ball."

"Not really.  You bounce the ball up to the hoop, get blocked, move around them, shoot and hopefully score."  He shrugged.  "I like the cheerleaders but nothing else really.  I don't get sports."

"We'll see if Ray can show you.  He plays three-on-three most weekends."  He walked Xander out to his car, smiling as the boy petted it.  "You like?  I just waxed her."

"You missed a spot but she's a beautiful girl, Stan."  Stanley looked and he pointed.  "Small line there."  He patted the hood again.  "You're a beautiful one."

"Well, at least you got the cars thing down on the guy side," he offered, going around to drive.  Xander got in and buckled up.  "Do you drive? I know some city guys don't."

"I do, I just had to sell my car to afford rent because the feds screwed up my paycheck for a month."  He looked in the backseat. "No Dief?"

"He's at the consulate.  We'll be getting Benny for lunch."  He pulled out and headed back toward the precinct.  "Anything new happening out there?"

"Yeah, my stalker finally gave up.  She pouted at me because she managed to capture me but I wouldn't give in and put on a bib or breastfeed from her."  Stanley choked. "Sorry.  Please don't crash?  I don't need an accident this weekend.  Bobby's gone next week and I've got to run the lab once I get back."

"No, I won't crash," he promised.  "Fraser does that to us too sometimes.  He wanted to know if you wanted to take in a curling match while you were in."

"Sure.  It looked pretty interesting.  Hodges called it marbles on skates with brooms but it looked kinda neat.  I watched some on the sports channel at the sports bar Nick made me go to with Warrick's help.  I still think Tara was right, there's some gay stuff in football with all that pouncing and padding.  Those positions just scream 'bend over and take me'."

Stanley did crash this time, but it was because he slammed on his brakes. He'd insist on that later when asked on the accident report and insist it wasn't Xander's fault when he got pouted at and apologized to repeatedly.

***

Ray Vecchio tapped on Xander's door, nodding him to come along.  "Come on.  Stan said you've never really gotten basketball and I'm headed for the court.  You okay?"

"I'm fine.  My knee's wrenched but the brace allows me to move enough."  He grabbed his wallet and card key, following him out to his car.  "Hi, baby," he cooed, patting it on the hood.  "Are you still okay?"

"She's fine, Xander."  He got in to drive, watching as the kid got in. His brace wasn't affecting his knee that much, he'd be fine.  "What happened?"

"I was telling Stan about how Nick and the guys were trying to teach me the guy's view on sports stuff and I admitted that I thought my friend Tara was right about there being gay stuff in football with all the pouncing and the padding and patting on the butt and stuff.  Not to mention the positions they get into."

Ray looked at him.  "You took sports lessons from girls?"

"All I had around me were girls."

"Ah.  That explains that.  No, football's about aggression and violence.  Those positions allow them to get greater speeds for hurting each other.  The padding is safety equipment, like seat belts."  He started the car.  "Buckle up."  Xander did so, turning to look at him.  "Basketball is a bit different."

"It's like the same four minutes replayed for an hour, only with cheerleaders in the center," Xander told him.  "Which makes a nice, creamy filling, but it's still boring."

"Sometimes," he agreed calmly.  "Street ball is a bit more aggressive though.  Street players don't make millions of dollars for an hour's work.  They play because they love to play.  I'm going to go play with some of them and you can watch.  Maybe you'll find something you like on this type of basketball."

"Do you play it on trampolines like they did on that one show?"

"Trampolines?"

Xander nodded. "I think it was on that 'all guy's channel."

"ESPN?"

"No, I think this was on late at night on Lifetime."

"That's not a guy's channel," he said calmly, making sure he wouldn't crash too.  "Most single guys block that channel from their tv actually.  Except guys like Turnbull. Did you meet him?"

"I did, and he seemed really nice.  Kinda like me, only uptight."

"Yeah, I can make that comparison," Vecchio agreed.  "Did you like curling?"

"I did.  It seemed kinda neat. It's a very calm game.  I used to swim on my school team."

"That's cool.  Watch any other sports?"

"The girls had me watch gymnastics, cheerleading, horse jumping, and skating.  Ooh, I watched the biathlon on the olympics the last time.  That's a driveby on skis.  That was kinda cool, and the luge, but that looked like sex on a sled going really fast on an ice rollercoaster."

Vecchio started to laugh and missed the light turning red.  Fortunately this crash didn't even dent his bumper and neither of them got hurt.

***

Xander limped into the unit, waving at Grissom when he stared.  "I'm okay.  It was a car crash.  He's fine too.  The other driver's okay too, and so's her cat."

"You don't look okay."

"I've got a hurt knee.  I'm fine."  He looked in his lab, seeing the empty table. "Did day shift come back?"

"No, no gun violence for the whole weekend, just some bludgeoning and some hit and runs," Grissom offered.  "Hodges could use some help though."

"Sure."  He walked in there, going to put on the labcoat he left over there and glove up after washing his hands.  "Hi," he offered when Hodges walked in and shut the door.  "You okay?  You look upset."

"I should be asking you that.  Are you okay?"

"Fine.  Small car crash.  Stanley, Detective Kowalski, picked me up and we had a small accident on the way in."  He looked around and blushed, then moved closer.  "Is it normal when playing basketball to rub against other people like that when you're both sweaty and panting?  Or was it just me?"

Hodges patted him on the arm.  "It wasn't just you.  Why were you playing?"

"Ray wanted to prove street basketball wasn't the same as the stuff on tv.  Which it's not, really, but it's also a lot of nudging, rubbing against the other person, shoving, and sweating on them.  I think I had more of his sweat on me than mine.  But he had fun and I finally quit blushing after about an hour.  Then we watched some curling and some cross- country horse jumping with Benny and Renfield, the Mounties."

Hodges could only shake his head and smirk.  "Good, Xander," he promised.  "So, anyone cute this time?"

"You mean besides the sweaty person who kept nudging and bumping me?"  He blushed again and shrugged.  "I don't know!  I'm confused!"  He sat down to pout at him.  "Was that normal or was he hitting on me?  Not that I'd mind if he hit on me, and I kinda didn't mind carrying more of his sweat than mine, but was it supposed to be that...close and personal and like that?"

"You'd have to ask Brass.  I don't play basketball.  Or Warrick, you could ask him," he offered. "I'm guessing he played some street ball now and then.  Want me to get him for you?  Or ask that he join us for lunch?"

"Eh, maybe.  Maybe I'll pounce the Cap later and talk to him.  He's got kids, he had to have this sorta talk with someone before.  Warrick doesn't so I'm guessing he never has.  Maybe it's just where they grew up like that?"

"I don't know, Xander.  I don't have a clue.  I had a fairly normal and middle class upbringing.  So did Greg."  He looked out the glass wall.  "Brass is heading this way."

"I'll ask him later," he mumbled, blushing again.  "Maybe."  He put on his glasses and looked at the current piece of work.  "This one?"

"No, I'm done with that one, I'm bundling it back up."

"Did you mean to leave the hairs?"

"Hairs?"  He looked again.  "I need my eyes checked."  Xander handed over his glasses.  "Thanks."  He put them on then winced and took them off, handing them back.  "Too strong for me.  Definitely hairs.  Get me an envelope please?  And the tweezers?"  Xander retrieved and took the samples across the hall when they were closed off.  "Captain?" Hodges called.  He came back to the door.   "Um, Xander had a few questions about street ball.  I have no clue but Vecchio showed him."

"Is he okay?  Grissom said he had a wreck."

"No, the detective driving him had a wreck, he's limping on his left side.  Looks like a knee brace."

"I'll talk to the kid later, when I've got some free time.  That way I can hear about how this weekend went and add it to his file.  I hear they had a pretty good case."

"Serial rapist," Xander said from behind him. "Drugged six girls at a school dance and then attacked them.  Since most everyone was out on a massive car wreck caused by a person shouting about God telling him to shoot out tires because round things were the sign of all evil in the world, I even got to do some field work," he said proudly.  "Mort was very pleased with me.  He said he'd send you an eval for my file and he'll be writing you later today, once he quit working."

"That's fine, Xander.  Anything else happen?  Get fed by Vecchio's mom again?"

"Oh, yeah.  Ray picked us up from the ER with Benny and Dief.  Took me right home and his mother *fussed* over me," he said happily.  "She must really like me, she called me a poor baby and fed me, and gave me an ice pack."  He bounced a bit, then winced and calmed himself down again.  "Sorry, wrenched knee."

"I've had those.  They do get tiresome," he offered.

Xander nodded.  "Do you think you'll have a few minutes later?  Ray taught me about street ball and I'm not real sure what was going on."

"Sure.  Actually, I'm not doing anything now and I can update your file so Grissom won't have to.  Want my office?"

"Sure.  You have good coffee."

"Usually I steal some from Greg," he admitted, walking him that way.  "So, street ball?"

"Yeah, he plays with some old friends at a park every weekend.  Three-on-three?"

"I do that now and then too.  It's fairly relaxing."

"It didn't seem really relaxing when he pulled me out to teach me."  They walked in and he closed the door, asking him to explain the sweat and bumping stuff.

Back in his lab, Hodges was howling with laughter, bringing a curious Greg and Warrick.  He looked at Warrick.  "You may get to explain street ball to Xander," he panted as he laughed.  "Vecchio tried but all he got was the blocking and the sweating stuff."

"I'm not touchin' that," Warrick said firmly.  "I know how the kid's mind works, I'm not going near that conversation."  He went to find Catherine.  "Don't you have a case you can send me on?  Before I get asked to explain aggressive street ball to Xander?"

"Who has him now?"

"Brass," he said dryly.  "I saw them walking off together."

"I'll go help Brass, you go do this mini-mart.  Give Xander something to do."  He nodded, taking the slip and heading out shaking his head. She went to help the poor captain.  She knew what Xander must be thinking. She was a woman and she understood how he had been trained by those women of his.  She tapped on the door.

"Come in," Brass called quickly.

"Warrick said you were trying to explain basketball again.  Need help?" she asked. "By the way, there was a package just delivered for you."

"Sure, let me get that.  You're sure you can help him?"

"Yeah, I'm a girl, I can translate it back into girl so he'll understand easier."

"Thanks.  Sorry, Xander.  Let her answer that last question."  He hurried out, vowing to never write Vecchio and tell him about how he had confused the poor kid into thinking he was hitting on him.  It would ruin their working relationship.  He heard his office door close and silently said thanks that they worked with a woman who had kids.  Sometimes the kid needed a mother.

"Have you seen Cat?" Sarah called at him.

"She's helping Xander understand basketball in my office," he called back.  Sarah was a woman, she'd help him understand, maybe.  She could definitely understand lesbians and how they thought.  She had in the past during some cases. Him, he just escaped, going out to sit in his car and not break down.  Though he did laugh a bit.  He couldn't see those two together.  Now he knew why Hodges had handed this one off.  Too bad he couldn't get Warrick the same way.  Maybe Nick though....

***

Xander sat down next to Greg at their usual table so he could put his foot up next to Hodges.  "I'm still confused," he admitted.  "Do you think he was hitting on me?"

"Not consciously," Hodges offered gently.  "You said you thought he was straight."

"Point," he sighed, looking a bit miserable at that prospect.  "I guess you're right.  Catherine explained it to me.  I think I embarrassed the poor Captain. I should apologize."

"Do something nice for him instead," Greg offered, patting him on the back.  "What happened?  All I know is that you asked Hodges some questions about street ball."

Xander looked at him. "The Cap said it was normal to get really sweaty and bump the other players during a game of street ball, but he was really nudging and pressing me hard while he was trying to teach me.  I ended up wearing more of his sweat than mine."

"This is Ray, right?" Greg asked gently.  Xander nodded.  "Okay.  Did he play that way with the other guys?  Or did you see him play with the other guys?"

"I did," he admitted.  "He was laughing and taunting and having fun then.  With me he was a lot more serious."  He frowned a bit.  "I started to think about it while I was watching curling with Renfield and Benny."

"Renfield?" Greg asked.  There went another name onto his list of names he'd never give to his kid.

"The other Mountie.  I met their boss.  She makes Sarah look like one of those cute little girls who dresses up like a kid with pigtails and who give away flowers while singing in front of the bigger casinos.  That's one tough damn woman."

"Me or someone else?" Sarah asked as she walked over.

"The Mounties' boss," he told her.  "She makes you look like a sweet, gentle, smiling, prozac happy person."

"Oooh, poor guys," she said, sitting down next to his foot.  "You okay?"

"I'm fine.  Wrenched my knee in the wreck.  He slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting someone who stalled in the middle of an intersection."  She nodded at that.  "Do you like curling?"

"I hate all sports."

"Oh."  He grimaced.  "I wanted someone to watch curling with."

"I'll try," Hodges offered.  "I can't promise I won't fall asleep though."

"Sure," he agreed, brightening up a bit.  "The place with the cheese fries has it on one of the corner screens."

"We'll go for the next game," Hodges promised. He looked at Sarah.  "Actually taking a lunch?"

"I wanted to hear about the case this weekend," she admitted, looking at Xander. "I heard a serial?"

"Serial rape.  Guy drugged a bunch of students at a school dance and attacked them in the school.  They were found a few hours later by a janitor cleaning up the mess from the dance.  Since most everyone was out helping on a scene thanks to the guy who said God told him round things were the sign of all evil, I got to go out to do some field collection.  I did very good," he reported.  "Mort only had to correct one thing, the direction I was swabbing a stain because it was stuck on already.  I got to analyze it since their trace person was out sick.  I heard rumors that it was family problems but she seemed pretty nice when I met her that first weekend.  So I did trace, then later on I got to go back to ballistics to deal with a gang initiation shooting.  Poor little old lady on the street who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and her grandson.  Stanley went to get the guy when we found out he was using a registered weapon, registered to his mother no less, and pound him into a greasy spot.  Though, from what I heard, his mother got there first when Stan told her about what had happened, even before she knew he had used her gun.  Then she kicked his ass and Stan had to save him from death.  He went to the ER, where he got 93 stitches and 3 staples.  Plus two casts and a shoulder sling.  They said taping his ribs was useless.  He's going to be solitary or the med-wing for a while in jail.  He came in pleading for mercy because Stan reminded him if he got off, he'd have to go back and live with his mother again."  Sarah grinned at that.  "Ray's comment was that his mother would have killed him, and he'd have been in little pieces had it been one of his siblings."

"Good," she praised. "Sounds like you did okay.  Did Warrick get back from his minimart yet?"

"Yup, he did.  The gun was in the system, there's already a warrant out for the guy, so they're trying to find him again.  That's why Hodges now has a full desk again."

"If we could pinpoint his location it'd be easier."

"Did you need help with that receipt?  I've never done one of those, only watched."

"Sure," he agreed.  "We'll do that first when we go back in."  He looked over as Ecklie stomped their way.  "Incoming," he hissed.

Xander looked up.  "Hi, Director Ecklie.  Hodges is going to show me how to do wetted down and blurred receipts after lunch."

"Good.  You don't know how?"

"I've only seen it done in the classroom, never done one or helped do on.  I learn better from practical experience."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "Fine.  Sidle?"  She looked up at him.  "You have that review today.  You're late."

"Oops, sorry.  I was listening to Xander talk about the cases he helped with this weekend.  He even got to do some limited field collection."

Ecklie looked at him.  "Why?"

"Because most of the field techs were at a massive car crash.  They had a guy who said God told him round things were the sign of all evil in the world so he was shooting tires as they moved to eliminate some of the sources of evil so the world could be purified and move on to greater glory and harmony in the Buddhist sense."

"I see.  Have fun?"

"Kinda.  Mort liked my suggestion for cutting out a section of floor instead of trying to scrape up a stuck-on sample.  He said it'd be easier but they couldn't.  The school would get upset."

"Interesting."  He walked Sarah off, taking her back to do that review with her, even if she didn't want it.  "They let him in the field?"

"No one else to go and he was trained in the basics," she reminded him.  She did appreciate Xander for the fact that he pissed off Ecklie more than she did.  It was fun watching him devise new ways to piss the director off. She found Grissom waiting on them.  "Ah-ha, it's one of those."  She walked in and sat down, nodding politely at him. "Xander got some field collection time."

"Good.  He did very well at that multi-shooter event I had to bring him to.  What's he doing next?"

"Hodges has a receipt he's going to work on and show Xander how to do them.  He said he's only ever seen it in classrooms."

"Excellent.  I heard he had to do Trace for most of the weekend. How was the rest of it?"

"Fine.  Serial rapist at a school dance.  Massive car crash, then he said there was a gang initiation shooting of a little old lady and her grandson, but that the suspect's mother had gotten hold of him when the cops came for her son.  Apparently he needed major medical intervention afterwards.  That and he talked about Ray."

"It's good he's already found a mentor over there," Grissom agreed. Sarah gave him a sideways look.  "I realize what you're thinking," he said quietly.  "I think Catherine talked Xander out of that idea earlier."

"Hopefully.  I don't want to see the poor guy hurt.  I don't think he could take much more of it.  It's like he's a little kid some days."

"He is.  For all that he's seen and done, he's still got some innocence and purity left.  It's what makes him work so hard to help others."

Ecklie coughed to draw their attention.  "As ...fascinating as Xander Harris is, we're here to talk about one of CSI Sidle's case."

"Sure," Sarah agreed.

Grissom nodded.  "I reviewed it, she did everything appropriately.  The evidence did suggest the first suspect and nothing hinted at the second."

"I was thinking on this last night.  I'm guessing it was planted evidence.  The only thing that pointed at the second guy was the epithelials on the sheet, which Greg thought of and found."

"Nothing else was his?"

"The semen in the condom was the husband's.  The hairs on the bed were the husband's.  The semen in the SART kit was the husband's.  Everything but those few skin cells were the husband's."

Ecklie looked at the file.  "Could you have missed something?"

"I'm human," she pointed out.  "We did process every inch of that crime scene twice, Ecklie.  I did, Grissom did with Greg.  We went back for a third review time to check a hunch of Greg's to get that sheet and there were no skin cells anywhere else on either sheet or the pillow cases or on her clothes that weren't the husbands, but in that one spot.  In his confession he stated he got lonely and jealous of what his friend had after his year of mourning was over with. He claims he had been watching her from a distance and had gotten closer to them due to his friendship with the husband, but then he snapped when he heard them having sex."

They heard feet go running past, one of them clearly limping, and Grissom groaned, getting up to open the door.  "What's going on?" he asked Greg.

"Car crashed into the front of the station, guy got out with a gun.  Shot two officers and Brass.  We're heading now."  He ran off, going to help and make sure nothing destroyed the evidence.  He paused when he saw Xander bodyslam the gunman, getting him onto his stomach and banging his head on the floor.  "Someone get him some cuffs!" he yelled.

"Oh, he'll be unconscious," Xander growled, hitting him again.  The guy moaned and went limp.  Xander flipped him over, kicking the gun aside, and got moved by one of the officers.  "Cap," he said, going over to check on him.  "You okay?"

"Not too bad," he said, looking at his grazed leg.  "Not the worst I've ever had."

"Yeah, but grazes suck monkey butts.  They ache and they're too small to really do anything about," Xander offered, taking off his outer shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.  "That the only one?"

"I can't feel the foot you're leaning on," he offered.  Xander slowly shifted, careful of his own knee.  "I can do that, kid."

"Shut up," he said fondly.  "You're injured, you get fussed over.  I might even do like Ray's Ma did and hand you an ice pack, a true form of fussing."

"Real fussing is usually done a lot more at home and by your lover," Brass told him.  "They do things like cook, fluff pillows, get you stuff, pamper you."  Xander looked at him, looking a bit confused.  "You'll understand some day," he assured him, giving him a pat.  "Guys, I'm injured but not that bad," he told the paramedics.  "Get the others first."

"He's got an inch and a half graze on his outer thigh," Xander reported. "Good blood flow, might have some fabric detritus in it, but I can keep doing this for a while."

"Thank you, sir."  The paramedic looked at Brass.  "Yours?"

"CSI Ballistic intern Harris," he reported.

"Oh, you're *him*," he said, suddenly getting it and nodding.  He grinned at Xander.  "Just an inch and a half?"  He nodded.  "That's fine then.  We'll take him last.  These two have real gunshots."

"We can drive him if we have to," Sarah offered.

"That'd be fine, ma'am.  Need anything for his leg, Harris?"

"Um, a pad and some gauze to wrap," he said, frowning at it.  "I'm not going to be getting personal but it's got to hold the pad in place."  He took them and went to work tying a pressure bandage.  He was good at this.  He finally tied it off and helped him stand.  "Here, Sarah."

"Thanks, Xander.  Good job."  She walked Brass out to her Tahoe, getting in to drive him.  "It'll be faster, I can take your statement on the way, that way you get some pain killers sooner and he won't learn how to really fuss over someone."

"Sure," he agreed, finding her tape recorder and checking the tape in it.  "Clean one?"

"Glove box."  She reached over to grab one, letting him have it once she had opened the plastic wrapping with her teeth.  "Well, he's back and it's not boring," she quipped as she backed out, taking him to get some pain killers.  Being shot hurt, even if it was only a graze.

***

Hodges looked up as Xander wandered back to his lab.  "Done?"

"Break.  I'm headed for a soda, want one?"

"No, I'm good," he offered.  "You sure you're okay?"

"Just fine."  He headed for the breakroom, seeing Grissom coming his way.  "I've got one left," he offered as they passed.  "Just getting a drink."

"Fine," he agreed.  "Page me when you're done, Xander."

"Yes, sir."  He got his soda and trudged back to work, really tired at the moment.   He sat down at his desk and pulled his phone closer, dialing a number by memory.  "Hi," he said.  "Yup, it's me.  No, I'm ordering for a friend.  Put it on my card.  Um, some Moo Shoo, some Kung Pao, and some General Tso's with eggrolls.  No, not home or the office.  Send it to 1631 North Eastern, apartment 8.  Yeah, on my card.  Thanks."  He hung up and went back to work on the last gun, making his notes carefully and methodically.  His phone rang and he answered it.  "Ballistics?"  He smiled.  "I'm fine, Bobby.  You missed the guy who drove into the front of the station and then came out shooting.  No, we're all fine.  Brass has a graze.  Two officers were shot but they're out of surgery and expected to do well.  Yeah, I'm good.  One last gun to go and I'm nearly done with the day anyway.  No, just general exhaustion."  He grinned.  "I will.  Sure.  I'll call if I need advice.  You behave and tell your mother I said to feel better soon.  Sure thing."  He hung up.  "Grissom, Bobby said he might be back a day early but he's not sure," he called.  He looked at the bullets he had to match, then grimaced.  "Shit."  He got up and stuck his head out of the doorway.  "Grissom, that last gun won't match.  It's a thirty-eight. All the bullets are nine mil.  We're missing a gun.  Want me back out there to look it over?"

"I'll send Greg.  You all right?"

"Just a long day.  Sore knee.  The usual.  I'm fine.  Where did they find the thirty-eight?"

"I don't know.  What's the tag say?"

"It doesn't have one.  It was in the same box, so I'm not real sure.  Can you come look?"  He nodded, coming in to look at the gun.  "It was in the box Nick brought me.  He had compiled the box of guns and walked them in here, then put them on my table.  I was doing my first scopings on the ones pulled from the walls so I only grunted, then Nick left.  I got all the exemplars done, then started on the guns, like usual."  Grissom nodded.  "This was at the bottom of the box and it doesn't match.  It's not got a sticker so it's not the lab's.  There's no tag and I looked in the box, there's not one that just came off that I can find."

"Let me check, you sit down for a minute, Xander."  He looked in the box, then looked around at the floor.  "What about the minimart one earlier?"

"Already ran it.  It was a thirty-eight but it's boxed and sealed.  Warrick took it back right before lunch.  It had a tag."

"Okay.  Where's the box now?"

"Ask Warrick. I'm not sure."  He grabbed the phone to page him, bringing him running.  "Where's the thirty-eight from earlier?  We've got a floating one."

"Let me get the box," he said, going to find it.  He came in a few minutes later and broke the tape sealing it, opening it to see his weapon in there.  He checked the tag.  "It's the same one."  He looked at Xander.  "You okay?"

"Fine, just tired.  A bit of pain but mostly tired."  He looked at the gun. "That was in the bottom of the box Nick brought in."

"It's an evidence box, the standard to put a case in," Grissom admitted.  "Page Nick for me."

"Nick!" Xander yelled, bringing him running.  He had only been down in fingerprinting.  "You didn't bring me enough of the right sort of gun and you brought me an untagged one, man.  I've got bullets from the wall that match a nine mil and don't match anything and an extra thirty-eight auto."

"Which is untagged," Grissom said, holding it up by the trigger guard.

Nick looked at it and shrugged.  "I don't know.  Where did you find it, Xander?"

"Last gun in the box.  No spare tags.  I've got the rest sorted and stored with the exemplar in the box with them.  I've got the standard pictures of the riflings so I can check them against the others and sort into groups."  He pointed at them.  "The pile on the right is still unmatched.  It's a nine mil but not one of the ones you brought me.  Seven bullets."

"Crap," he muttered, coming in to search the floor and the box.  "Warrick?  Yours earlier?"

"We just checked it.  It's in there and sound.  Tagged and all.  Xander did it before lunch. I just unsealed it."

"We can do another test fire, compare the two rounds," Xander assured him.  "Easy enough to do.  That gun was the only one in here when I did it."  Warrick handed it over so he went to do the test fire.  "Firing one."  He fired into the water, then walked around to retrieve the bullet, handing off the gun so he could take the exemplar from the envelope in there.  He examined it and looked at Grissom.  "This is impossible.  It was the only gun in here earlier."

"I was sitting here when you sealed it in, after checking it over," Warrick agreed.  "I even verified his match as a check," he offered.  "It was that same gun. It's not now?"  Xander shook his head. "Is the other one?"  He took it to do the test fire.  "Firing one," he called. He came over to check it.  "This is mine from earlier."  He looked at Grissom.  "It's a match.  It's impossible, I watched Xander do mine, Gris."

"I know you did," he promised.  "I'm not doubting you."

"But then who switched the tag, reboxed, retaped, and where did the other gun come from?" Nick demanded.

Xander shrugged.  "It's not got a label as one of ours."  He checked the gun from the box carefully, noticing the serial number.  He moved to the computer to type it in, finding that one.  "It says it's hot but it's from an old case, back about ten years."  He printed it and put it with the gun, then ran the serial on the one that matched the exemplar.  "Here we go, from Warrick's case.  Listed as such in the computer."  He printed that and put that gun on top of it, then looked at the box.  "They were good, but not great," he said finally.  "There's an extra edge of tape, barely, on the sides."  He let Grissom look at it.  "I want to know what's going on."

"Gremlins," he said grimly.  "Okay.  Rebox, retag, I want it on my desk, sealed, signed, and report inside."  Xander nodded, going for a new box.  "I also want a statement from each of you on your actions about this.  Just in case.  It could help us later."  He yawned.  "Your exhaustion is catching, Xander."

Xander looked up at the vents overhead.  "No gas."

"That we can see, I'm tired too," Nick said, backing out into the hall.  "Hodges, do you have  the sniffer?"

"Yeah, in the second blue cabinet.  Why?"

"Everyone in ballistics is tired suddenly."  He grabbed it and brought it in there, turning it on.  It lit up and he looked at them.  "Out, now," he said calmly.  Xander boxed up that gun and sealed it, signing it and handing it to Warrick, who signed it, then they handed it to Grissom.  He walked Xander next door.  "Help him write a report about the extra gun and the gun switch earlier."

"Oooh, how?  Lab accident?"

"No, the first gun was in there by itself.  The second appeared.  Here, I want evidence from this box about the second layer of tape," Warrick ordered, handing over the old box.  "It's barely got a hanging edge.  Someone was good."

"Sure.  Then I'll send it down to fingerprints."  He sat down with the digital camera, magnifying the area.  He saw the second row and snapped it.  "You were using which tape, Xander?"

"The lab's," he said through a yawn.  "Paper?"

"Use the computer," Hodges ordered.  Xander nodded, going to do that.  He wrote out a quick and dirty report about the first case, how it was the only gun in processing at that time, how he sealed the gun, handed it back, that Warrick was in there when he handed it back.  That he found the second gun in a box from the shooting and ran it, and it matched that first gun but the gun in the box hadn't matched.  He noted that he had found the dual layers of tape and that he had called his supervisor immediately upon finding the spare gun.  He fell asleep while typing, nodding back up almost immediately but found himself looking up at one of the docs.  "I'm fine.  Just doing a report."

"We have enough for now, Xander," Hodges said gently, moving him and the chair he was in away from the desk.  "Let me spell check it for you."

"No, print it that way," Grissom ordered.  "I'll make a note on it that he was tired and fell asleep while writing it.  That this is the preliminary report.  Save it as well."  Hodges did so and printed it, handing it over.  "Thank you.  Drive Xander home."

"Sure thing, Grissom."

"I can do it," Xander offered.

"Shut up, Xander," Hodges said firmly.  "If you stand up, you'll fall over."

"Xander, were you taking anything for the pain?" the doctor asked.

Xander shook his head. "Tylenol this morning.  Some again at lunch and another pill after lunch because I was in more pain after I jumped the guy.  Why?  Am I having a funny reaction to whatever Nick found?"

"You're having a stronger reaction," Doc Robins offered.  "Not a bad one, just stronger."

"He was in there for longer," Hodges noted.  "He was also tired at lunch."

"I noticed he looked tired when he went for a soda, right before he found that spare gun," Grissom agreed. "Xander, tomorrow, day off."

"Fat chance," he said dryly.  "We still have to find the origin of that gun."

"Which Warrick and I can," he said firmly.  "I want you at home, sleeping, young man.  Don't argue with me or I'll dock your pay."

"Yes, sir," he sighed, slumping a bit. "I'm fine," he whined.

"Shut up, Xander," Doc Robins ordered, staring him down.  "I mean it."  He nodded.  "Good boy.  Now, they looked at the phone.  Who did you call earlier?"

"When I got back from getting my soda, I called the usual chinese place I use to send the captain some dinner.  That way he wouldn't have to stand up or anything."

"That's very nice of you.  Did you give out any information?"

"No, they have my card on file.  I had to give out his address, but that's in the phone book."

"It is," he agreed gently.  "He's fine, and he did say thank you.  He called a few minutes ago."  Xander nodded slowly at that.  "Dizzy?"  He nodded again.  "Then you're definitely being driven home."

"I can take a cab."

"Xander, shut up," Hodges complained.  "I'm driving you home and putting you to bed.  Deal with it."

"You live in the other direction."

"So?  You don't live that far away and you're getting me off early tonight."  Xander nodded at that then grabbed his head. "Is this a reaction?"

"Not that I know of.  Where's your tylenol stash, Xander?"

"My desk drawer.  After lunch I took from the communal stash since I'm down to two pills. I was going to pick up more tonight."

"That's what they're there for," Grissom agreed.  "Want him to go to the ER, doc?"

"No, he'll be fine.  Let's get him home and resting.  Hodges can call to wake him up later to check on him."

"Sure."  He walked over and helped Xander stand up.  "Keys?"  Xander patted his pockets.  "Need anything?"

"No, I'm good.  I can order dinner later."  He let Hodges walk him out, holding his head.  "Why am I so dizzy?"

"It's called lack of sleep, Xander.  Normal humans need six or eight hours of sleep a day.  You're going on four most nights or so you claim.  You're tired. You're going to take a nap and I'll come back later to check on you."

"I'll be fine with a nap," he promised.  "You don't have to."

"Shut up, Xander," he said firmly, walking them past reception.   Priscilla came over to take his pass.  "He's handing his in?"

"He gives it to me each night so he doesn't have to lose it again."

"Oh, that's good."  He walked him out to his car, letting Xander crawl into the front seat.  He walked around to get in and drive, then watched Xander get out of the car.  "What are you doing?"  He got out to follow him, leaving his keys in the starter.  A few feet from the car, it exploded.  "Shit!"  He moved over to flip Xander over.  "Suddenly having visions?"

"Smelled solder."  He yawned and looked up as people came running.  "I smelled recent solder.  I was going to get one of the sniffer dogs."  He yawned again.  "If this is the same federal idiot who stole my file and made it so I wouldn't get paid, I'm killing him this time," he told Ecklie.

"It can't be, he's still in jail," he said, hauling Xander up.  He got yawned at.  "Problems?"

"He was gassed in ballistics and fell asleep while typing his preliminary report," Hodges said as he stood up.  "Doc Robins wanted him to go home and rest."

"I'm not so sure he should be alone," Grissom noted.  "Ecklie, can we put a guard on his rooms?"

"I'll stay with him for a bit," Hodges offered.  "Send Greg out, he knows where he lives."  He looked around, then saw a van.  "Who's that?"

"I don't know," Grissom said after looking.  He pulled an officer aside.  "We have a suspicious vehicle on the lot," he said, glancing over at it.  The officer nodded and went to report it, getting some officers to come from a few different directions.  Someone got out and started to run off, but they were brought down by one of the dogs.  Grissom looked at Hodges.  "Good catch.  Take him back to his rooms.  I'll send Greg to check for any evidence.  How did he know?"

"He said he smelled recent solder," Ecklie told him.

"That's fine.  It's a good catch," he agreed.  "Go, Hodges.  Call a cab from someone's cell."  He nodded, walking off to do that from the front desk.  They watched as the cab came and they left, with Greg going along to help.  The rest of them got down to work trying to figure out what was going on this time.

***

Xander woke up to find Greg looking down at him.  "Gee, you don't look like the takeout fairy."

"I'm not.  That would be Captain Brass, who's sitting outside to smoke."  He helped him sit up, then swing around so he could get up.  "Still dizzy?"  He nodded so Greg helped him into the bathroom.  "Doc Robins said if you were still dizzy to take you to see someone, Xander."

"Yay.  I hate hospitals."  He came out a few minutes later and headed back for his bed, collapsing face first.  "Let me nap some more, I'll be fine."

"Sure."  He watched as Xander fell back asleep then went to tell the Captain he had gotten up.  "He got up, went to the bathroom, washed his hands, and came back."

"I heard.  He okay?"

"Still dizzy, refused to get seen."

"Not unusual."  He finished his cigarette and tossed it down off the balcony.  "Any word yet?"

"Nope.  I called Grissom but I got his voicemail."  He handed over his phone.  "Here, you can try."

"Thanks."  He hit the phone book and dialed from there, getting Sarah.  "He's got you marked wrong or you've got Gris's phone. Which is it?"  He listened to her ramble. "No, he's been up and went back to sleep.  Sure.  Hey, Doc.  No, he got up and went back to sleep.  Greg said he refused a trip to the ER."  He listened to the orders.  "Why?"  Then the reason hit him.  "Since when!"  He sighed and nodded.  "Sure.  We can do that.  Send the tox report to them.  Palms is fine.  Any news on Hodges's car?"  He nodded a few times.  "Thanks.  Let us know.  My phone's at home charging.  Sanders has his."  He hung up.  "We've got to take him anyway," he said, wincing as he stood up.  "His tylenol was laced."  They walked in there to get Hodges off the couch and have him help them get Xander down to the car.  He didn't want to wake up and it showed, he was snoring halfway down the stairs.

***

Xander stomped in the first day he was allowed back, heading right for Grissom's office.  He tapped then walked in at the grunt.  "Can I come home now?"

"Sure."  He looked at him.  "You look healthy."

"I was fine before, just tired."  Grissom stared him down but Xander crossed his arms over his chest and glared back.  "I was fine.  Even the mild poisoning didn't hurt me.  With the way I eat, my stomach repelled the poison and laughed at it.  Now, do we know why?  Or where that second gun came from?"

"The same source," he reported.  "A dirty cop was trying to cover up for someone who had him in thrall.  He left a fingerprint on the tape and was in the van when the bomb went off.  Good catch by the way."

"It was out of place.  Hodges's car always smells like gardenias and pine."

"Interesting.  How many times do you catch rides with him?"

"A few times when we're out doing stuff.  Greg's smells like his music, kinda musty but clear.  He uses an air descenter in his car and on his clothes."   He stared him down.  "Can I come back to work?"

"I wish I could," he offered. "You can go help Hodges, but Bobby's doing a reevaluation of that day's cases, just in case, on orders of Ecklie."

Xander glanced at the door. Then back at his boss.  "Can I go beat the shit outta him?"

"No, Xander," he said patiently.  "It should only take a few hours.  He decided the gas could have clouded your judgement.  It's not a mark against you."

"Bullshit!  It is so!  If one of the other techs had that shit happen to them, the review might be automatic, but since I'm an intern it *has* to go into my file.  That's part of being an intern.  Which means I've got a black mark in there and it can keep me from being hired."

"Calm down.  The incident report stated that you were gassed and poisoned while in the lab. The review was automatically done to make sure nothing had been compromised, and that your interning supervisor is writing an independent report on the matter."

"That still won't clear me of that dark mark."

"It will.  I'd hire someone with that in there.  It's explained.  You were poisoned and gassed."

"So?" he snorted.  "It won't matter to most.  Think like Ecklie, Grissom.  He'd use it out of hand to fire or not hire someone."

"That's not true.  We've had a few around here and they're still here."

"Because he can't fire them," he said grimly.  "Only supervisors or the sheriff can.  I know damn well he's pushing you to fire at least one of the techs."  Grissom nodded at that.  "This'll still make it nearly impossible for me to get hired.  It's the sort of thing that makes people have to leave the field in shame."

"It won't, Xander.  I called Chicago.  I talked to Vecchio and Mort, your future boss and your mentor, and explained everything."

"They have a hiring board too."

"Yes, but they'll be sticking up for you.  There is something we can do to help.  I need a medical release signed so we can put the toxicology and ER report in there."  Xander nodded, signing the one he handed over.  "Thank you."  He put that into the thick file in front of him, then looked down the hall as Bobby came walking up it.  "Good news?" he asked.

"Mostly.  One bullet didn't match perfectly.  The picture did, but the picture was distorted by a thin film of fog.  I'm guessing he caught the gas on it.  It had to go into the eighth pile for the unmatched ones.  Sorry, Xander."

"No, it's my fault," he sighed, shaking his head.  "Am I on suspension?"

"For what?  Being gassed and drugged?" Grissom asked.  "No."

"I mismatched and I made a lab error."

"Actually, you didn't," Bobby offered. "The picture shows the gas so you're in the clear on that, Xander.  We can forward that to them if they ask."

Xander gave him a long look.  "Bobby, consider your internship year.  If this had happened to you, what would you being doing today?"

"Working in Arkansas or the Federal lab," he said immediately. "Then again, I wouldn't have been drugged that way.  The gas wasn't around then and the AV technology wasn't there to catch anything like that."

"Ray's precinct still has three typewriters in active use by the detectives."

"We'll go to bat for you, Xander.  That's not an issue.  This wasn't a lab error due to being human.  This was a lab error due to someone trying to kill you.   Thirty more minutes and you could have died by sitting in there."  He patted him on the back. "You're okay and my eval will state that it wasn't your error, it was an error on the part of the sedative gas they used on you."

"It can still harm the case, it can still be used by the defense team by the shooter, and it can still be held against me."

"It won't be. We'll talk to them," Grissom promised.  "Go help Hodges.  Bobby's got ballistics today and you seem to need to fidget.  You can do that while you're searching in trace."

"Fine.  Thank you."  He walked out, going to the locker room to find a clean lab coat.  He slammed his locker door and sat down, holding his head.

"If your head still hurts, you shouldn't be here," Nick said firmly.

"I had a mismatch on that shooting case," Xander said quietly.  "One should have went into the unknown pile."

"I've done that.  Did you correct the error and reissue the report?"

Xander looked up at him.  "Bobby had to do a review of it thanks to the gas.  He caught it."  He stood up and put on his lab coat.  "So I'm fucked."  He walked out, heading to help Hodges.

Hodges looked at him.  "Oh, no. Out!"  Xander gave him a hurt look.  "You may not be in here when you're upset!  You're vibrating, I can see the haze around your body, you're not coming in!  Go do something for two hours and come back."

"I can't!  They're still doing that review."

"Then go do some time on the range.  Just go for two hours.  You're not allowed in here if you can't control your emotional output.  It'll cloud your judgement and make working with you hell.  Shoo!"  Xander shook his head, wandering off.  Hodges sighed and calmed himself, then went back to work. "He's got to learn to control those things," he muttered.

Xander walked into Grissom.  "Sorry."

"Why aren't you helping Hodges?"

"Because he told me I couldn't," he said bitterly.  He glared at him.  "Ya know what, maybe he's right.  I don't have enough emotional control so I'm suspending myself for the day."  He walked off, heading for the entrance and home.  His phone was ringing when he got there.  He picked it up and listened, then hung it up and walked away muttering about the idiot.  Within a few minutes someone also knocked on his door.  "Just a minute," he shouted, grabbing a beer and heading that way.  He opened it, finding Jim Brass there.  "What?  Am I under arrest now too?"

"Why would you be?" he asked calmly.

"They found a fucking mistake during Bobby's review of the stuff I did while I was being drugged."  He popped the top of the beer.  "Want one?  I suspended myself for the day."

"Yeah, Gil told me."  He walked in, heading for the boy's small kitchenette.  As usual, the only thing in there was soda, water, take out containers, and the newly bought beer.  It was still sweating from where it had been warmer.  He took the light beer out and opened it, going to sit with the kid, or actual lean against the balcony railing since that's where he was.  "You okay?"

"Hell no.  I should just quit and find something else to be now.  That'll be on my record and then I'm fucked."

"Language."

"Sorry."  He took a sip of beer.  "Then I got home, and Ecklie was calling.  I picked up the phone and he was shouting so I hung up and walked away mumbling about what an idiot he was and about how it was probably him doing it."  He took another sip.  "I promise, this is my only one today."

"No, that's fine, I trust you to know your limits and not retreat into alcohol that way, kid."  He took a sip of his own and looked at the label again.  "Who bought this?"

"I did.  It was the only one left."  He gave him a sideways look.  "Why were you sent?"

"Because before you only went outside, this time you actually snapped at Gil and then left.  He's worried about you and knew I wasn't doing anything for another day."

"Yeah, well, before I had something to go back to.  Hodges wouldn't let me come work with him and I can't work while Bobby's doing the review so I had nothing better to do than walk off.  I figured it was probably better for everyone."  He took another drink. "I'm so fucked."

"You're not, really.  One thing like this won't keep the guys in Chicago from hiring you."

"They have a hiring board."

"Still.  Vecchio will explain it.  You can explain it all to him."

"All he'll see is that I fucked up.  So I'm done and my career is over before I even started, and now I should probably just leave."

"If you do that, you'll really upset Grissom.  Hodges will return to being the political bastard he was and nothing will ever get done in Trace, plus Bobby will scream at someone soon because no one will be able to fill in for him so he can go home again next month."  Xander groaned at that and Brass patted him on the back.  "I know, the instinct to run is really strong, but it won't help matters...."  He trailed off as a few cop cars came screaming into the parking lot, lights and sirens running.  "That's SWAT."

"Hmm, so it is," Xander agreed bitterly.  "Ya think?" he asked as they started coming up the stairs.  "Hey, guys."

"You're that tech," the guy in the lead said.  Xander nodded.  "You made threats against the department?"

"No, I was swearing at my boss.  He's a moron."

Brass looked at them.  "The kid had a bad few hours and Ecklie called to give him grief.  He probably said something about his parentage and lack of skills.  Did he send you?"  They all nodded.  "Go home, guys.  This is not a threat against the department.  While you're there, make a complaint about this.  Please."  He pulled out his badge and showed it off.  "I'm Captain Brass."

"Crap," one of the guys in the back muttered, relaxing slightly.

Xander looked at them, then went back to leaning on the railing.  "Can I make a threat against my boss again?"

"Not in our hearing, sir," the lead guy said.  "You guys, head home.  I'm going to stay to take an incident report."  They headed off.  "Well, at least it's a good drill," he offered.

"Made me nearly piss myself," Xander promised dryly, smirking at him.  "I can't mutter about my boss blowing himself?"

"Well, he did say something about you telling him to go blow himself up."

"I never said up," Xander assured him, taking another drink, shaking his head.  "I doubt he could inflate himself any bigger than he already did."  His cellphone rang and he checked the number, then sighed and answered it.  "Hi, Stanley."  He listened. "No, I'm not okay.  Why?"  He shook his head, finishing his beer.  "Nope.  No, I was gassed and drugged.  Won't much matter, it's still a mark on my file."  He snorted.  "My boss just sent SWAT after me because I walked off muttering about him after I hung up the phone."

Brass went in to check that, unplugging it this time.  "That should fix that problem," he said grimly, glancing around the apartment. He went back to tell the guy what had been going on, making sure he'd be filing a misconduct report on Ecklie as well. This was just too much.  "Hey, kid," he said, listening to him get more morose.  "Why don't you go take a nap?  I'll let you show me which chinese place that stuff came from later."

"Yeah, maybe I will," he offered. "I'll see you soon, Stan.  Even if I don't get hired because of this, I'll try to pop around and say hi.  Laters."  He hung up and went to lay down.  "Thank you, Cap."

"Welcome kid.  Let me close the door.   I'll call back in a few hours, okay?"  Xander nodded, hugging his pillow, so he closed the door.  He looked at the SWAT guy.  "Now you see why I got sent," he said quietly.

"I did before, Captain.  I'll be filing a report with the sheriff about this.  This isn't right and it's a misuse of funds."  He saluted and headed down the stairs, heading back to the office.  Someone was in deep because of this.

Brass watched him go, then headed down to his car once he had checked the door to make sure it was locked.  He'd be calling Grissom on the way in for *their* lunch.  Maybe he'd have him slap Hodges around for hurting the kid that way too.

***

Brass looked up as someone walked into his office, giving the kid a surprised look.  "What's that?  Dinner?  I said I'd come get you."

"No, this was a weapon that was just delivered to my house," he said dryly, putting it on his desk.  "The nice officer insisted it was mine, even though I told him it couldn't be mine and that I use Eastern Bloc weapons, not the slimmer American made ones.  He insisted it was mine and that Ecklie sent it."  Brass looked inside the box.  "The tape was already popped when I got it."

"Which officer?"

"Frommers."

"I know him."  He picked up his phone, calling Grissom first, the officer's shift supervisor second, and IAD third.  "Sit, kid."

"Gladly."  He sat down, looking over as Grissom came in.  "That got delivered to me.  They insisted it was mine, even though I know it's not and all mine are at home.  He said Ecklie sent it."

"That's fine, Xander.  What is it?"

"Nine mil, auto.  Box was opened when he delivered it."  He looked over as another officer came in. "I told you it wasn't mine, but I don't blame you.  You were only following orders."  The cop nodded, coming in.  "Tell him."

"He can wait five minutes.  I want someone else to hear this," Brass offered.  "He's not in trouble but someone will be.  That's an evidence box and they don't leave the station.  Officer, sit.  There will be someone here from IAD so we can get to the bottom of who did this."

"Yes, sir," he said grimly, sitting down next to the kid.  "Who are you?"

"My shift's ballistics intern," Grissom said.  "Who's in deep trouble for walking off his shift today," he said, staring at Xander.

"It kept me from going off," he said simply.  Grissom frowned.  "You know damn well it doesn't matter if that's my fault or not, I'm still fucked because that's now on my internship record.  I may not be able to find any job because of that."

"Xander, we'll explain it."

"Yeah, well, won't much matter.  The hiring board in Chicago doesn't really want to hire anyone right now.  This is just an excuse for them."  Grissom shook his head.  "This is another level of politics, Grissom."

"It may be, but it's not your fault."

"That doesn't matter."

"He's right, Gil, it won't matter to some.  To some it might.  In the big game of politics, techs are expensive new hires.  Field CSI make half of what Xander should.  You probably make the same paycheck as the kid should.  In Chicago he'd be getting fifty a year."  The officer looked stunned at that.  "Yeah, so go back to school.  Ballistic techs are in high demand.  Or if you can do computers, they're even more wanted."  Xander nodded at that.  "They will want a spotless record.  Some people will look at why the incident happened.  Most won't.  They'll see he made a mismatch, it won't matter that he was drugged and being poisoned, it was still a mismatch.  We can help."

"I wrote a report on why," Grissom pointed out.

"Which may help," Brass assured him.  "Vecchio and Mort are the best help for him right now and they're probably going to be doing some tapdancing and pulling strings.  Did you talk to Ray yet, Xander?"

"Not yet," he admitted.  "I talked to Stanley.  He said he'd tell Ray what had happened and went down to talk to Mort for me."  He shrugged.  "I have no idea what I'm going to be doing if I don't get hired there.  I've already turned down Montana.  I can't live for long without a paycheck and I *refuse* to go Fed."  He looked over to find someone standing in the doorway.  "It's not about the gassing.  Get in here."

"Fine.  You called, Captain Brass?"  He walked in and shut the door.  "What's happened?"

"This is Xander Harris, he's a ballistics tech," he noted.  The IAD guy just nodded.  "This officer was given this gun to deliver to him.  The box was already opened when Harris got it.  He insisted it wasn't his gun but the officer did as ordered and delivered it.  Harris brought it to me because this is odd."

"Officer, who gave you the gun to deliver?" he asked.

"Director Ecklie.  He called for me specifically.  I went to his office, the box was open when I was given it. He said it was CSI Harris' gun and that it was cleared from something."

The IAD guy nodded.  "CSI Harris?"

"I only use Eastern Bloc weapons with one exception and it's a revolver.  I knew it wasn't mine.  I told him it wasn't mine."

"Repeatedly," the officer agreed.  "He did state that but Director Ecklie said it was his."

"That's fine.  Does it look like one you've processed recently?"

"No, and I didn't touch the gun," Xander assured him.  "It's a nine mil but none of the ones I processed had that sort of grip or were that model."

"Thank you.  Grissom?  Why are you here?"

"He's my ballistics intern and this is one of our boxes," he noted.  Someone knocked on the door and the sheriff walked in.  "Close it."  He closed the door without question.  "Someone sent Harris a gun in an opened evidence box.  One that wasn't his.  He had an officer deliver it."

"Who?" he asked simply.

"Ecklie," the officer told him, glancing back.  "Sir."

"Not your fault, officer.  Director Ecklie is having a bad day."

"Is that why he sent SWAT after me for muttering about him going to blow himself?" Xander asked blandly.  The sheriff looked at him, then at Brass, who nodded.

"I have a report on that," the sheriff noted calmly.  "Gil, what's going on with Ecklie?"

"I'm not sure.  I'd like to know that as well.  I'm going to take this gun and have Bobby process it."  The IAD guy nodded so he walked it off.  "Don't worry, Xander."

"I'm not.  I'm just paranoid," he said dryly, waiting until the door was closed.  He looked at Brass, who shrugged, then at the sheriff.  "I know I'm the newbie here, and that Ecklie hates me for the disney incident.  What did I do this time?"

"We're not sure," the Sheriff told him.  "You're sure that's not your gun?"

Xander pulled out his wallet and found the laminated card he carried, handing it over.  "My weapons I have here.  The artillery is still back in Cali."

He looked it over, then smiled.  "This is a very nice collection, Mr. Harris."

"Thanks, I like 'em too.  They're all locked in my safe.  It's got a fingerprint code to it and a push code."

"I've seen those," Brass offered. "Yours is really nice and well hidden."

"It makes a nice end table," Xander agreed.  "It's just taking up space otherwise.  I usually carry the second one down as my obvious carry for the job and the bottom one as a backup whenever I need it.  I didn't wear any in this time."

"Probably a wise idea," the IAD guy said, taking the list.  "This is a very well thought out list, CSI Harris."

"I'm only an intern," he said patiently.  "Not a full CSI."  He looked at the officer.  "Did he say what it was from?"

"No, just that it was yours."

"I'm guessing he knew that you didn't like the CSI guys and he wanted to get your help with this," Brass told him.

"Probably," he agreed.  "Then again, I also saw this guy tackle someone the other day and I've head he's SWAT trained."

"Licensed," Xander corrected.  "I'm missing an eye, I can't do field work.  I'm licensed to do bombs and stuff."  The officer looked impressed at that.  "I did construction," he said with a mild grin.  "That's why I can lift my safe."

The sheriff looked at him.  "You can do more than that, CSI Harris.  I've seen your evaluations.  If I had the funds, you'd be staying."

"Yeah, well, with what happened recently, I now have a mark on my record," he said grimly.

"What happened?"

"During the time he was being gassed and poisoned, he mismatched a single bullet.  They're nearly identical and the photo he was using to match captured the gas on it.  It was found during a standard review after an incident like that."

The sheriff shrugged.  "I wouldn't care.  If I had the budget, I'd keep him gladly."

"While you're at the money thing, can you please get Hodges a computer?"

"I thought he had a temporary one."

"He does, my laptop.  Which I'm putting creative porn on so the system administrator gets pissed at it enough to get him his own working system again.  He still has trouble getting onto the trace search engine.  It takes XP and I'm running 98."

"I'll see why he hasn't yet," he agreed.  "How long has this been going on?"

"Since his blew up.  Ecklie gave him one that was so old and slow it wouldn't even connect to the local intranet we use."

"I'm definitely going to be checking into that."

"Interesting porn how?" the IAD guy asked.

"Let's see, this week it was Muppets.  Mostly gay.  A few Sesame Street ones.  A few weeks back it was Teletubbies.  Before that were some gay and het ones of normal people.  Nothing damaging or bad.  Just odd."

"Well, you're certainly creative, CSI Harris," the IAD guy said, shaking his head quickly.

"Very," the sheriff agreed.

"Where did you find those?" Brass asked.  "I've been meaning to ask you, kid."

"Some guy online manipulates pictures that way.  I still like Oral Roberts kneeling between them, begging for them to do him.  That was a pretty one."

The Sheriff blushed and coughed.  "Let's remove that one.  I don't want to get sued.  Please?"

"That was actually originally on there," Xander offered. "A friend sent it to me."

"Fine, just keep it quiet," he said patiently.

"Do all you guys get to go odd in the head?" the officer asked.

"Yeah, lab guys are allowed to be themselves," Xander agreed.  "There's goth lab people, glitter lab people.  One of my in-school fellow interns came to work once wearing a full body paint costume as a psych experiment for one of her classes."  He smirked at the officer.  "And I still get to fire off guns, have my collection, and be myself."

"And he still doesn't understand sports at all," Brass quipped dryly.

"Not my fault," Xander defended, mock glaring at him.  "I'm trying to learn guy stuff."

"Were you female?" the IAD guy asked.

"No, but my only friends were girls so I basically only got their point of view on anything.  So, not only can I do a killer pedicure, I can also braid hair and talk knowledgeably about fashion and shoes."

"But he is a car guy," Brass offered. "Not the engine but the exteriors."

"That's helpful though," the sheriff offered. "It's good that you like him enough to help him adjust, Captain Brass."

"We're trying really hard," he offered.   Someone knocked on the door.  "Enter!"  Vecchio walked in.  "Injured again?"

"No, I heard.  I also got this as a fax," he said, handing it to Brass.  He looked at Xander.  "I got this for you earlier."  He handed it over with a smirk.  "They said the gas thing was reasonable and only two of the five voted against you on purely political reasons.  They were against the renovations as well.  They're more into footwork than lab work."  He watched as Xander opened the envelope with his contract in it, then smiled as he was grabbed for a hug and the kid let out a whoop of joy.  "Easy!  I'm still fragile."  He gave him a hard pat on the back.  "Sit down.  What's going on?"

"This does explain the earlier incident some," Brass offered, handing it to the IAD guy and the sheriff.  "I take it he was hired?"

"Yeah, and the fact that he told us about this first was seen as the guy being really good and honest.  The fact that his evaluation file was six inches thick with all praise helped a lot.  They really didn't want to hire a new tech this year."  He smirked at Xander.  "I reminded them it'd be another six months, which would save them money, and they said that'd be fine.  So therefore you get to come back about a weekend a month to look over everything and all that, okay?"  Xander nodded, beaming at him.  "Good kid.  I'd have brought food but Ma was at the doctor's today."

"She okay?"

"She's fine.  Just routine stuff, Xander.  Don't worry so much about Ma.  She's a tough old woman."  He looked at Brass.  "He told my mother she couldn't be as old as she claimed because she didn't hate him and throw flower pots at him."

"I heard about the flower pot incident," he noted, smirking at the kid.  "Go brag."

"I can't.  Hodges said I can't be in his lab if I'm the least bit upset or emotional."

"Bull," Vecchio snorted.  "Can we?"

"He's not in trouble," the IAD guy offered.  "Officer, we'll need to take a formal statement about how you were given that gun.  Can we do this here? I know Captain Brass is a union rep."

"If you want.  Am I in trouble?"

"No," the sheriff said, patting him on the shoulder.  "Not in the least.  You're just a pawn in this game, officer.  Jim, we're using your office."

"That's fine."  He kicked back.  "Go brag, kid."

"Yes, sir, thanks, Cap."

"Welcome.  Shoo.  Take Vecchio with you."  Vecchio tossed him something else with a wink and walked off.  "What's this?" he asked once they were gone.  "Hey, a signing bonus," he said sounding happy for him.  "I'll give it to him later, once Vecchio's gone."  He put it into his desk drawer and locked it.  "Okay.  Someone get the door."  The sheriff shut it and locked it.

Xander walked into the break room waving his contract.  "He talked them into it.  I start in six months."

Greg got up to hug him.  "I'm so happy!" he squealed, bringing Hodges running.  "Vecchio talked them into hiring him anyway."

"Congratulations," he said, patting him on the back.  "Now go get your coat and get your butt back in the lab."

"He can't yet, Grissom said so," Greg reminded him.

Vecchio walked in, shaking his head.  "What now?"

"The thing with the gun," Greg told him.  "Come on.  I'll be right back."  He walked them down the hall to Hodges' lab, shutting them in.  "Are you okay?  You nearly made me yell and scream at someone earlier."

"Stanley was yelling and screaming at someone earlier," Vecchio offered, looking at the kid.  "You okay?"

"Better.  Then again, I had that gun delivery."

"Point," he agreed.  "What is going on?"

"Ecklie hates him," Hodges noted.  "He's been trying to discredit him.  How thick was his eval file?"

"Six inches."

"Should have been eight."

"Six was enough," Xander said firmly.

"Yeah, well, it's still wrong," Greg said firmly.  "Detective, I've got to get back.  I'll expect you to treat him well while he's with you.  Otherwise we'll have to come out and rescue him by stealing him back."  He left, going back to the breakroom and their briefing.

Bobby stuck his head in.  "Hey, Xander.  Good news?"  He nodded, letting him see his contract.  "Well, salary's a bit low."

"He'll get that other two grand after a year.  They wanted to make sure he stayed."

"That's fine.  How's the lab looking?"

"Decent.  Especially if we could steal someone like Hodges to come with him."  He looked at Hodges, who only smirked at him.  "They authorized sixty a year for a trace tech.  Not the best...."

"About what I get here.  I'll come out with him in a few months to look it over, but no promises."

"Sure, Hodges.  He says good things about you and your work."  He looked at Bobby.  "Everything else meet up to your standards?"

"Yeah, it does," he offered, handing it back. "Good work.  I'll see you after lunch."

"I suspended myself for the day."

"No, you stomped off after having a go at someone," Bobby said dryly.  "Admit it, Xander, you were in a pissy mood and you went off."

"Then he went and had a beer," Hodges offered.  "I called the captain since Grissom said he sent him to talk to him."

"Fine, then I'll see you tomorrow, Xander.  On time, ready to work."  He disappeared.

"Yes, sir," Xander called.

"Good, kid," Vecchio praised.  "What was the problem this morning?"

"That review.  He was angsting and it piled up," Hodges told him. "I wouldn't let him work in here because he was visibly vibrating.  Sorry, Xander, but you do have to have emotional control in the lab.  I know you've gotten this lecture before."

Vecchio snorted.  "We yell at each other across the room and mean every word we say," he said dryly.  "A bit of heat and temper won't bother us a bit.  You guys quibble and we shout."

"He swears now and then," Hodges told him.  "He swore at Grissom this morning because he was having a fit."

"I wasn't throwing a fit, it was like everyone hated me and no one wanted me here so I left.  It's better to be alone when you're unwanted."

"I can see why that ex of yours wanted to kill your friends," Hodges said sarcastically.  "I almost want to too.  I didn't not want you, I just couldn't let you mess up something because you were too angry to concentrate."

"We have a heavy bag in the lab for those days," Vecchio offered.  He patted Xander on the back.  "You okay, kid?"  He nodded, looking up at him. "Good.  I need to find a cheap room for the night and then head back tomorrow."

Xander whispered in his ear.  "Trust me."  Vecchio smirked at that.  "Hey, I know these things."  Vecchio nodded, leaving them there.  He looked at Hodges.  "You still yelled at me and sent me away."

"Yes, but for the best reasons, so you wouldn't mess up.  That's one thing you still have to master, beyond sports and other guy things, is to control your emotions at work.  Which I guess is another guy thing," he admitted after a moment's thought.  "At least you didn't burst out in tears and stomp off like a girl."

"Gee, thanks."  He looked at his contract, then signed it and hurried out to hand it back to him.  "Here, you forgot this," he told the detective waiting on a cab.  He grinned and hugged him.  "I'll be out in a few weeks."

"Sure, kid.  Let me know and we'll arrange for stuff like your room."

"You shouldn't have to since I'm part of the department.  I'll let you help me look for an apartment though.  That way I don't live in a slum."

"That'd be a good thing.  Benny does live in a slum."  He smirked as his cab pulled up.  "You behave.  Celebrate responsibly tonight.  Call me next weekend to tell me when you're coming out so I can take Ma grocery shopping."  He walked over to greet his cab, getting into the back.  "Later, kid."  Xander waved as the cab took off.

"Your client," the cabbie asked.

"No, my new hire.  He's our new tech in Chicago."  The cabbie nodded.  "Tangiers."

"Sure thing."  He changed lanes and sped up.

***

Xander opened his door, letting everyone in.  "What's up?  Something else go wrong?"

"No, well, yes," Warrick admitted, sitting on the couch to look at him.  "Ecklie's gone insane and ordered you to be shot.  Most of the officers turned him in for it, but we're worried so we're going to hang out with you tonight."

"Sure," he said, shrugging a bit.  "The takeout menus are on the coffee table and the tv turns."  He flopped down on his bed, looking at him, Nick, and Greg.  "Do we think someone will try to kill me?"

"Unfortunately we do," Greg admitted.  "Get changed.  We're heading for a public place.  Most likely a club.  It'll be too crowded to try anything in there."

"Sure, what sort of club?"

"We'd let you pick but you'd put us somewhere they played country music," Greg offered dryly.

"Well, I was going to suggest the new spot that opened up near the Luxor," he said with a grin.  "Not nearly any country music, but pretty girls for you other guys."  He looked in his closet and pulled out a special bag, taking it into the bathroom to change.  He came out in a tight pair of black jeans, black sneakers, and a dark blue t-shirt that clung to his chest.  Greg gaped and he shrugged.  "I did a lot of clubbing in my younger days."  He ran his hands through his hair and grabbed his wallet and keys. "Okay, let's go."

Warrick reached over to shut Greg's mouth for him.  "Sure.  This place is good?"

"Pretty good.  It's new and not on the A-list yet but it's got some pretty people and some good drinks and it's free cover all week."

"Sounds like a plan," Nick agreed, following him out.  He made sure the door was locked and followed Xander down to Greg's car. They had decided Warrick's was smaller so they were taking Greg's.  Xander got into the back behind Greg and Greg got in to drive, with Nick sitting back there.  "So, how much was your signing bonus?"

"What's a signing bonus?"

"Oh, come on, you can tell us," Warrick offered.

"Brass has his," Greg noted.  "Vecchio handed it to him."

"What's a signing bonus?"

"You signed on, they give you money to help you move and stuff," Greg told him. "Vegas gave me five grand."

"Gave me two," Warrick offered.  "Then again, that was years ago."

"They gave me two and a half," Nick admitted. "Lab techs are always more wanted."

"Maybe they expect me to do twice the work?" Xander suggested with a small shrug.  "I don't know.  I haven't heard anything about it.  Do I split it with the department?"

"No, I'm sure Brass will give it to you when he gets a copy of the signed contract."  Warrick called Brass' office.  "Xander didn't know he had a signing bonus.  No, we were going somewhere public.  A club.  The new one near the Luxor."  Greg backed out of the parking spot and headed up the road.  "Sure, we'll be careful.  No, none of us.  Sure."  He hung up. "Greg, head back to the station.  He wants to put a car on us and a tracer on Xander."

"No one's going to kidnap me."

"We're not so sure about that," Nick reminded him.  "Ecklie's gone mental."

"Ecklie sent SWAT after me earlier for muttering about him," Xander said dryly.  "I already knew that.  One of my neighbors handed me a card for a lawyer just in case."

"Pershing," they all said together.

"He's gone against the department in the past," Warrick told him.  "A discrimination suit and other things.  He's very good and the top people hate to see him coming."

"He gave me one for a guy named Lebonowitz?"

"He's a very good criminal attorney," Greg told him.  "Yeah, he'd be a good choice for a criminal offense."  He pulled into their assigned parking lot.  "Here we are.  Go get him tagged."

"Come on," Nick said, getting out to walk him inside.  He saw the staring looks and glared back. "We're going out to celebrate."

"Wow," Catherine said, looking Xander over.  "Going out to make more women evil?"

"I figure if I spread it out a bit at a club, it won't turn someone as evil," he offered with a grin.  He tapped on Brass's door and stuck his head in. "Signing bonus?"

He waved him inside, handing him the envelope.  "Yours.  I assume you did sign it?"  Xander nodded and beamed at him, opening the envelope.  He saw the boy waver and looked.  "That's a nice one," he assured him.  "They really, really wanted you."

Nick looked.  "Ten grand.  Nice," he said in awe.  "We only gave Greg five."

"Chicago is rebuilding their reputations," Brass reminded him.  "They're also losing most of their techs in the next few years to mandatory retirement clauses."   He held up the tracking device.  "Here you go.  Put it on him somewhere."

Xander looked at it, then put it in the watch pocket no one ever thought to check.  "Am I good?  Do I get to keep this?"

"I'll keep it for tonight until Vecchio tells me that it's been sent back."  Xander carefully handed it back so he locked it into his desk drawer.  "Go, have fun.  Celebrate but be careful, kid."

"Yes, sir.  Wanna come with us?"

"I don't appreciate clubs like you young guys do.  Shoo."  Xander nodded and walked out with Nick behind him.  "That was a nice bonus," he said quietly, getting back to work.  After a few minutes he went to lock it in Catherine's office, she had a real safe and his office was too open to being invaded by others.

***

"Sir, we don't really function as a gay club," one of the bouncers told Warrick. "There's a really nice one about a block away if you wanted to try there."

Warrick shook his head. "I'm not. I promise, I'm not."

"What made you think he was?" Nick asked.

"Both of you really, sir.  You're both matching and you have...very well put together outfits.  We don't want any trouble and we don't really want a reputation."

"It's fine, we've got style sense because we're young professionals," Greg offered.

"If you say so, sir.  You're not our usual sort."

"We're celebrating me getting hired on to Chicago's PD."

"Oh.  That's wonderful," the bouncer agreed.  "Go ahead in," he offered, moving the rope out of their way.

The other bouncer looked over once they were inside. "I thought they were two couples too," he admitted quietly.  "That was a delicate way of putting it and a good suggestion of where they could go.  Nice work."

"Thank you."  He looked at the next group, all girls, and let them in.  Boss's orders.

Inside, Xander had gotten himself a drink and headed onto the dance floor, Greg not far behind him.  Nick and Warrick were looking at each other.  Nick headed to the bar to watch while Warrick went to find a pretty woman and make her pay attention to him.

"You guys together?" the bartender asked him as he walked up to the bar.

"Coworkers.  We're CSI."

"Oh.  You're one of those lab tech boys.  Saw something on your job in the paper.  Whatcha need?"

"Beer.  Light beer."

"Sure thing, buddy."  He got it and took the two bucks for it.  "That young one with the light hair is cute."

"He's straight and dating someone," Nick said dryly, smirking at him.  "Really, we all are."

"If you say so."  He went back to serving others, keeping an eye on them.  Someone might bother the nice guys in the closet.  They didn't need that sort of reputation.

Out on the dance floor, Xander's partner was smiling at him.  "What do you do?" she asked over the music.

"I'm with the police department."

"You're a cop?"

"No, I'm a lab tech."

"I thought only the gay guys and the geeks got those jobs."

"I am a geek," he said with a grin.  "I'm a ballistics tech."

"What's that?"

"I say which gun shot which person."

"So you get to play with guns every day and get paid for it?" she teased.  He grinned and nodded.  "Do you get to stroke them?"

"Only when I'm cleaning my own," he shot back with a small smirk.  "I'm not allowed to stroke the guns at work."  She laughed and moved closer, blatantly feeling him up.  "We're celebrating.  I'm moving to Chicago in a few months."

"It'll be cold up there."

"That's okay, I've never seen snow."  He winked and she beamed, moving closer. He felt someone brush against his back and looked back there, finding Greg back there.  "Back off, you can't steal my partner."

"Wasn't going to."  He danced his partner off.

"Who's he?"

"One of my coworkers.  Him, the guy at the bar and the yummy, tightly packed dark guy in the corner."  He pointed at Warrick and she drooled.  "Go ahead.  He needs a new girl.  Hasn't had one in a while.  Work's been hell on him and he needs to relax."

She danced that way, going to hit on him.  "Hi.  The nice guy said you needed to relax," she said with a cute grin as she moved next to him.

"I do," he agreed, grinning at her. "Which nice guy?"

"The ballistics guy.  He's nice but he said you're yummy and good."

"I don't know who he heard that from, but I am," he agreed with a grin, liking this one.  She was bold.  "What else did he say?"

"That you needed some stress relief because work had been hard recently."

"It has been," he assured her.  "Very hard."  She moved closer and he let her, knowing what she wanted.  He wasn't against that idea, but he was supposed to be watching Xander. He glanced at Nick, nodding out there before taking the girl off. "Sorry, we're supposed to be watching out for him.  Only bad girls like him."

"It's all the guns," she purred, leaning against his side. "He said he can't stroke them at work, but he does his own when he cleans them."

"I'm sure he does," he agreed, letting her do whatever she wanted, as long as she quit talking about Xander and sex.  He didn't want to know that much about the guy.

Nick came out onto the floor and nearly got pounced by two girls.  "Hey," he said with a boyish grin.  "New to the city?"

They nodded and led him off to dance with him.  One of them noticed his checking on Xander.  "With him?" she pouted.

"No, he's a coworker but bad girls love to try to hurt him so we're keeping an eye on him tonight."  They cooed at him and danced him off to a dark corner and a table.

Greg looked over at Xander, then at his date, winking at her.  "Got five minutes?"  She nodded, leading him off.

Xander looked at the person dancing with him.  "So, how evil are you?" he asked with a small smirk.  "Only bad and evil people really like me.  Since you licked me, I'd say you're either a vampire or really, really naughty."

"I'm just naughty," she offered, moving closer to rub against him.  "Being good is so *boring*."  He nodded, smirking as he danced with her the way she wanted.  She shivered and clung to him, letting herself rub against him and make him hot.  By the end of that song she was biting into his neck to muffle her gasps of pleasure.  Then she moved off, letting another woman have him.  She licked the blood off her lips and went to clean up, finding a nice guy getting some in the bathroom with a girl she'd seen the guy she just rubbed off on earlier.  She rinsed her mouth and went to the bar to get another drink before going back onto the floor for a new target.

Xander turned to find out who had just grabbed his waist and saw a familiar body standing there.  "Faith," he said dryly, shrugging.  "I'm celebrating. I just got a new job.  Oh, Greg's here."

"Greg?"

"Smart guy you did the last time you were here?  Really, really smart guy, like smarter than Willow smart guy.  Blondish?"

"Oh, Greggy," she said with a grin, winking at him.  "He's cute.  Like him?"

"He's one of my buddies."  He moved her closer, staring at her.  "Why are you here?"

"Willow said you had to do the deed," she offered back.  "She and Buffy wanted to see you."

"Fuck 'em."

"That's what I said."  She kissed him, then pulled back.  "Man, I can feel evil me coming out.  Gotta go."  She hurried off.  She knew Xander could make her go bad.  She'd watched others go bad just for lusting after him.  And he was hot tonight.  He smelled like sex and smoke.  She almost went back but some inner voice told her to walk away before bad girl Faith came back out.  She ran into Greg and kissed him to distract him, then hurried out, going somewhere less fun.  Just in case.  She couldn't afford to go bad again.

Greg shook his head and looked over at Xander, who had some woman wearing a leather cat suit pressed against his front.  "That was Faith."  He watched as the leather woman licked up Xander's neck, making him shiver.  He looked at his dance partner.  "She was my ex, and he's my coworker, think we should save him?"

"No, he looks like he's having fun."  She walked him up to the bar to buy them a round.  She was a modern and liberated woman.  Besides his mouth had to be dry with the way he had pleased her. She always rewarded good service.

Xander looked at his partner, smirking down at her.  "Needed more?" he asked in his most sexy and deep voice.  She moaned and clung to him, letting him dance her off to a corner.  She vamped out and he tapped her brow ridge.  "Naughty you," he said playfully.  "You don't attack a Knight, honey.  It's a bad thing."  She backed off and changed back, then ran off.  He shrugged and went to get another drink, he liked the virgin fruity stuff they served here.  He walked up to the bar.  "Can I have another one of those redberry fruity virgin things you gave me the last time?"

"Sure," the bartender agreed with a grin.  "She ran off too?"

"She wanted to bite and I've already done that tonight."  He started to pull his wallet but a woman winked and put down a five for him.  "Hi."

"Hi.  You're adorable."

"Thank you.  My buddies in the PD labs say the same thing."  Her eyes went wide and he licked his lips, making her do the same and then wipe off the cocaine trail on her top lip.  "Thanks for the drink."

"Welcome."  She watched him walk off, nearly drooling.  He was fine!  Too bad he was proper and uptight that way. She looked at the bartender.  "You get some hot guys in here.  I'll have to come back."  She left, heading home so she could cool down. He'd never take her now but maybe next time she'd be his.  He seemed to do a lot for women by the way the one dancing with him now was nearly pissing herself in pleasure.  She looked over as an unmarked car pulled up and hurried off.  She didn't want to be around real cops.

Xander found a new dance partner, a blonde, and was shaking it with her, making little quipish comments now and then when she asked stuff, making her grin and want him more.  Eventually she drug him off to a quiet corner and was kissing him when someone coughed and pulled him off.  "Hi, Cap, am I in trouble?"

"No, but she is trouble.  Daughter."

"Dad," she said grimly.  "Go away."  She looked up at him.  "You work with him?"

"Yeah, I'm the ballistic intern."  He grinned at her and kissed her, making her moan.  "I can't defile a young and pure beauty like yourself in front of her daddy.  Especially not when I respect him for being such a tough guy.  So I'll leave you alone with that last pleasure."  He walked off, heading back onto the floor.

"How did you know I was in town, dad?" she asked, staring at him with glazed eyes.  "You couldn't have waited?"

"No.  His last date turned stalker on him.  I don't want him to turn you bad too."  He walked her out to his car to talk with her.  "Why go in there?"

"No cover and it had a quickly moving line, plus they were letting in all the women."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "Well, it's a good reason but I think I'll protect you from him.  He's a nice guy but he's looking for a serious thing with a woman who won't turn bad."

"I'd turn good for him," she offered, staring at the club.  "How did you find me?"

"Your tracker and his tracker were in the same building. I figured I'd make sure you were still normal."  He patted her on the back of the head. "Forget about him, Ellie, he's just a fantasy.  A very good fantasy."

"Oooh, he certainly is that and I'm going to be having good dreams for weeks," she purred.  She grinned at her father.  "So, I'm back for a few months.  That cool with you?"

"Just fine," he said blandly.  "Want to have lunch with me?  I'm off right now."

"Sure.  I need my energy to stalk that one."  She let her father walk her off, hoping he'd spill more dirt.  Men didn't act like that with her often and he was very cute.  She'd have to pop around on her father to see him again.

Inside, Xander was babbling at Warrick.  "I just made a pass at the Cap's daughter," he finished.  "Now she's gonna go bad and he's gonna hate me and I'm gonna be in deep crap."

"You're not," he promised.  "Ellie's already got a dark streak. You'll be fine, Xander.  Now go play." Xander nodded, going to go play with someone else.  Warrick looked over at Nick, who was still being flirted with by the two women, then at Greg, who was back on the dance floor with his girl of choice.  "Maybe we should switch spots," he decided, going to gather the others.  He tried Nick first.  "Ellie's here."

"Clampet?" one of the girls asked. "I saw that movie, I didn't know it was based on reality."

"No, our captain's daughter," Warrick told her.  "She just had to be drug away from Xander."

"Brass will set her straight," he said with a grin.  "We'll be fine."

"I was thinking maybe we should switch spots.  That's six girls who've hit on Xander and tried to take him."  He looked around.  "Where is he?"

"Out the back door," the other girl said.  "With the leather chick from earlier. He must like them tough."

"He only dates evil women," Nick assured her.  "He's even had to turn some bad."  He smirked at Warrick. "He's fine.  He's got very good defense mechanisms."

"Fine."  He went off, going to the bar.  They'd track Xander if he wasn't back in a few minutes.  Maybe they'd go to one of his favorite places instead.  Much more calm and steady there. He noticed Greg looking around and caught his eye, nodding out back.  Greg frowned and went that way, dragging a panting Xander back in.  "What happened?"

"Vampire.  Wanted me to stake her," Xander said with a shrug.  "Cute and all but not the sort I wanted to stake tonight."  The bartender grinned and handed him another drink.  "Thanks, man, but I think we're heading to a new place."  A few of the women pouted. "Sorry, but I don't want to hurt anyone and she was mean to me."  A few of them broke off from the pack at the bar and took him back onto the floor to make him feel better.

"I thought I was good," Greg said in awe.  He looked at the bartender.  "What is he drinking?"

"Virgin mixed fruit drinks."

"Wow.  I'll have what he's having."  That got a grin.  "We're buddies, but I never got hit on like that."  He took the drink and paid for it, going back out to the floor.   One of Xander's women broke from the herd and came to cull him from the group, making him one happy guy within twenty minutes.

Nick finally got away from the girls and gathered Greg from where he was resting at a table, Warrick from the bar where he was talking music with someone, and they went into the bathroom to save Xander together.  The girls were in that hazy-afterglow spot, but Xander was cleaning himself up.  "Were you careful?" he asked.

"Nick, I grew up clubbing in LA and Sunnydale.  I take all known protections and precautions.  But thanks, dad."  He took a paper towel to wipe his hands and face off.  "We moving on?"  They nodded. "Thank you, ladies, I needed that," he said with a smug grin for them.  "Have fun without me and call my name?"  They moaned and got up to kiss him, going back to pick up new targets.  Xander followed the guys out, letting Greg drive again.  "Where to now?"

"Somewhere calmer," Nick said.  "I didn't realize those two were only sixteen."

"They looked twenty," Warrick offered.

"They did.  They said they're freshmen.  I thought it was at the college."  Xander chuckled at that.  "Anywhere calmer you know?"

"Sorry, I only hit places with good dance music.  Calm isn't why I go to clubs.  I get calm at the library."

"I don't think we can hang out there tonight," Greg told him, starting the car and backing out.  "Who was that one Captain Brass drug off earlier?"

"His daughter," Xander said grimly.  "And I was hitting on her hard when he showed up.  She had her hand down my pants and her tongue halfway down my throat and he's going to kill me tomorrow."

"Nah, he likes you," Nick promised, grinning at him.  "Hey, Greg.  Let's head to the club inside the Venetian."

"Hell no," Warrick said dryly.  "I'm all sexed out, guys."

"We can drop you off at home," Xander offered with a grin.  "That way you can nap."

"I already rested, but how are you still conscious?"

"Lots of practice," Xander said smugly.  "Mostly fighting.  Builds stamina like you wouldn't believe.  That and Anya had this contest against a certain pink bunny to see who lasted the longest."  That had been the weirdest bragging session he had ever heard, her against the pink bunny demon who punished bad children.  "Hodges knows this one place, and he seems like the sort to favor calmer places."

"I can't imagine Hodges clubbing," Nick admitted, shaking his head.  "Maybe a martini bar, but not clubbing."

"That's the sort of place we need so we can calm down, have a snack, and then move back into somewhere more fun," Warrick said.

Greg nodded.  "I could use some food.  I'm wiped."

"Sure, I could eat," Xander agreed.  "Just not anyplace too low key or I might nap due to the music."  He grinned.  "Hey, Greg, there's a Lords concert coming up.  Wanna go with me?"

"Sure, we'll go," he agreed.  "When?"

"The twenty-ninth.  I have it off already."

"I can be there," he agreed.  "I'll beg to be on-call."

"Lords?" Nick asked.  "Like Traci Lords?"

"No, like Lords of Acid," Xander said with a bright grin.

"They're often described as porno soundtrack rock," Greg offered, turning a corner.  "Where are we heading?  Warrick, you like jazz places."

"Ah.  The Pharaoh's Tomb?"

"I've been there," Nick agreed.  "It's nice.  Easy, comfortable chairs and pretty girls.  Background music."

"Sure," Xander agreed.  "I'm still hungry.  That vampire chick bit really hard and then the real vampire tried for a nibble too."  Greg stopped at a light and looked back at him. "I'm fine.  Faith ran off because she said she felt her evil self coming back.  Green light."

Greg started moving again, shaking his head.  "I wondered.  Why was she in town?"

"Delivery girl.  Buffy and Willow want to see me."

"Only if we can arrest them for being mean to you," Nick promised, patting him on the thigh.  "Let's go somewhere we don't have to defend ourselves and our straightness."

"That's a good place for that," Warrick promised.  He pointed it out and Greg pulled into the valet parking, letting them all get out and handing the car over.  "Hey, Xander, thanks for sending that one girl to me.  I don't know you know that I'm yummy and good to my women, but thank you.  She was very nice."

"I heard Catherine and Sarah chatting in the halls," he quipped, grinning at the bouncer.  "We're on break between clubs."

"I can see that," he offered.  "You're a bit sweaty, sir."

"It's water, I hosed down before we left."  He pushed back his hair, then wiped his hands off.  "Better?"

"Much.  Thank you."  They paid their cover and he let them in, watching as they went to find a table and something to drink and nibble.  He shook his head.  "They're a cute set of couples.  Such nice gay men usually tip well."

Xander flirted with the waitress as she came over to serve them.  "Do you have anything virgin? I've got to work tomorrow and we can be tested now and then."

"We've got daiquiris that can be made virgin or we have coffee."  She smiled at him.  "Whichever you prefer."

"Can I have a cherry daiquiri?"  She nodded.  "And something to nibble?  Maybe something soft, and warm and gooey?"

"Sure," she agreed with a wink for him.  She looked at Warrick. "I haven't seen you in a while.  The usual?"

"Sure, and bring us an appetizer tray.  We're on break between clubs."

"Of course.  For you?" she asked, grinning at Greg.

"I'll have what he's having.  He's got good taste and switching to his stuff got me one of his castoffs."

Nick looked at him.  "It did?"  Greg nodded.  "Why?"

"I don't know, but she was very nice and polite."

"Then my innate nature sent her off," Xander said with a grin.  "Otherwise she'd have been dirty and naughty by the end of the night."  Nick snorted and Warrick groaned, shaking his head.  "We all remember the last one I dated.  She went stalker."

"Point," Nick agreed, looking at their waitress. "Can I have a coffee, light cream, one sugar?"  She nodded, taking their orders back to the kitchen.  "I still want to see if anyone can figure out why and how you do that to them, Xander."

"I don't know," he said with a small shrug.  "Maybe I just radiate vibes that only draw the girls who want to be bad."

"Maybe it's something less sinister and it's in your sweat," Hodges said as he pulled a chair over.  "Hey, guys.  Having fun?"

"Yeah, we've been dancing with the girls who can't be naughty enough for Xander," Warrick said.  "You?"

"Escaping the station.  Ecklie had a screaming, jumping up and down, fit in the center of the hallway.  They came to take him away."  He sipped his drink. "You don't drink, Xander?"

"Not often.  I had my beer for the month earlier."  He gave him a smug look.  "We're heading somewhere else in a bit.  Wanna join in?"

"Sure.  I've got nothing better to do for the rest of the night."  He looked at Xander's neck. "You need a band-aid."

"Yeah, I know.  Some girl bit me and then a vampire tried to help clean it up and nibbled."  He took a napkin and blotted it, looking at the blood. "I should go clean that up.  Be right back."  He stood up and paused to let the woman in the diamonds go past, heading around her to go to the bathroom.  By the time he came back, he had food and a drink, Hodges was getting the stories from earlier in the evening, and Nick was blushing hard.  "What?  The two teenagers hit on you?" he teased.

"Yeah, they did.  I swear I thought they were older."

"It was the makeup.  Too much camouflage."  He sat back down and looked at his food.  "Ooh, cheese.  Is this a pick up with my fingers thing?" he asked, looking at it.

"Use a fork, Xander," Hodges ordered.  "It's always socially polite unless you're at a picnic or in a deli."  He looked at Warrick, then back at his buddy.  "When did those two say Warrick was yummy again?  I didn't hear that one."

"They were talking about the upcoming bachelor auction.  Sarah did say they had to keep me out of it and away from the bidders."  He grinned at him.  "Apparently they don't want any other problems."

"I didn't know you had signed up for that," Greg told Warrick.  "I thought I was the only CSI in it."

"I didn't know I was in it either," he admitted.  "Am I?" he asked Xander.

"They were talking about who'd bring in good money," he said as he tried to cut a piece off.

The waitress came back and whispered in his ear. "It's temptation food, sweetie, bite and lick."  He moaned and nodded, doing just that, making her smile.  "Good boy."  She smiled at Warrick.  "If you do get auctioned off, I want to know the day and time so I can bid."  She winked and refilled Nick's coffee before leaving again.

"Switch places with me," Hodges said, smirking at Warrick.  "That way some of his magic wears off on me."

"It's every man for himself against the women who want Xander," Nick told him.  "Including Brass's daughter."  Xander blushed and ate another bite, licking off the cheese string.  He nearly moaned and he was straight.  "How do you do that?"

"Practice.  I eat out a lot," he reminded them.  "I eat a lot of pizza."

"I don't think that's what he was talking about," Hodges told him.  The woman with the diamonds came back and handed Xander her number before walking on.  They all waited until she and her husband were gone to stare at him.  "Hey, threesome," Hodges said dryly.

"Not the first offer," Xander said, tucking it into his pocket.  "We'll see.  She was cute but he looked older and unhealthy."  He ate another bite, then sipped his drink.  "I like that," he said, looking at it.  "Very cherry."  He took another sip and went back to his nibbling.  "Eat, guys. You're making me self-conscious."

Warrick shook his head, clearing that thought out of his mind before he found something to nibble too.  "Go ahead and dig in Hodges.  Any ideas where we're going to next?"

"Somewhere with a good dance floor," Greg suggested.

"The Rodeo Club?" Xander offered.

"No country music," Hodges reminded him. "You'll make Greg break out in hives."

"I can stand some light country," he defended.  "Nick always puts it on when we go out on a scene together."

"That's because yours gives me a headache," Nick said firmly.  "Somewhere not metal, please?"

"There's a nice place with a dance music night. I think it's tonight but it's over by the bad section of town," Xander offered. "Called the Playground?"

Warrick looked at him.  "I know that club.  I know some of the gang members who go there.  They let you in?"

"Yeah," he said, shrugging a bit.  "Why wouldn't they?  I only go on dance music night, not on rap night or open mic night.  There's plenty of people allowed in on dance music night."

"Still, I don't feel like getting shot tonight.  I'm a bit too white-guy to go there, Xander," Greg defended.   "Hodges would never get in.  How about the Zone?"

"Sports bar?" Warrick asked.

"No, not that one, the Latin club."

"I can almost salsa dance," Xander offered.

"They've got some beautiful women there," Nick agreed.

"It's a nice place to sit and watch too," Hodges offered.

"Sure, we'll go there," Warrick agreed.  "Where is it? I've never been."

"The other side of King Arthur's stables," Xander told him.  "I pass by it on the bus all the time.  Maybe I'll get a new car before I head out there."

"It'd make it easier to move," Nick agreed.  "Or a U-Haul."

"I don't have that much stuff. I barely fill the trunk with my safe in the back seat."

"Safe?" Hodges asked.

"Gun safe."

"Oh, that end table you have.  Gotcha."

"What end table?" Warrick asked.

"The safe's got a flat top and it takes up room if you don't double-duty it," Xander told him.  "It's the one the ugly lamp is on."

"I saw the lamp.  I didn't realize that was a safe."  He ate another bite of his cheese stick and looked around.  "It's a slow night here."

"It is," Xander agreed, picking up his other hot, cheesy thing to nibble on and suck the cheese off.  He heard a moan and looked around but no one was that close.  He took another bite and heard another moan, finding her finally.  He grinned at her and she winked, sipping her wine.  "'Scuse me, gentlemen. I'll be right back."  He walked over there to talk to her, making her giggle and blush, then kiss him and pass him something.  He handed it back with a wink.  "I don't need that," the guys heard.

"I insist.  Even if it's not your profession, you obviously deserve it."

"Yes, but you could get me in trouble. I'm not allowed to accept gifts from just anybody," he said in his best shy boy voice.  "I work with the police and they frown on that."

"Do you help them with the serve part of their motto or the protect part?" she asked, putting the roll of money back into his hand.  "Really, you'll need it."  She stood up and kissed him, making herself moan when he did it properly. She pulled back and tipped her head up to breath, then kissed him again before walking off, walking very funny. The valet looked at her and walked around to help her into her car, and she gave him a reward when he gave her a helping finger.  "He's good," she moaned, kissing him on the cheek and tipping him handsomely.  "Thank you, dear.  Remember me."  She drove off.

Xander sat back down and put the money on Warrick's plate.  "Here, for dinner."

"This place is expensive but not that much," he said, handing it back.  "We all heard you protest and tell her you weren't for sale.  Consider it a tip."  He saw the blush.  "Hey, it's not a bad thing."

"Yeah, it is," he muttered. "I'm not for sale.  I only like fun women."  The waitress came back and he tipped her half of it.  "For dinner."

She looked at the six hundred dollar bills, then at him.  "The next time you come back, ask for me," she offered, kissing him herself.  It was more than worth it.  She walked off, paying for their check and pocketing the rest.

"That's it, tomorrow I'm doing a hormone, spit, and sweat analysis.  If I can bottle that, I'll split the profits with you guys," Greg said to break the staring they were all doing at the very red Xander.

Nick chuckled and nodded. "I'll help you collect samples."

Hodges took another drink of his martini.  "Well, Xander, we knew you were in high demand as a ballistics tech, but this puts whole new meaning into the phrase a warm gun is a happy home."

Xander blushed ever brighter and headed into the bathroom to calm down.  Maybe he should let Greg figure this out for him, before he got into real trouble again.  When he came back, they packed up and headed to the next place, going to watch and see how he did it.  Xander's shy boy routine there, mostly because he was still flustered, got him pounced by someone who called him kitten and demanded he purr for her.

***

Xander walked into Grissom's office the next night, handing him a statement.  "Here, just in case I get into trouble for last night.  I protested that I didn't want paid for dancing with them.  I protested that no one had to pay me to kiss them.  The guys heard me protest that most of the times.  I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it, and I'll hand over everything but what I gave our waitress last night and the fee for my new bus pass."

"What?" Grissom asked, reading it.  He stared, then looked up at Xander.  "They did what?"

"They decided I was for rent.  Even though I'm not and we all know I'm not for rent, they decided I was for rent and made me take it.  Even when I protested and tried to run away they still protested and gave me tips for dancing with them.   I don't know why, but it was odd and the PD can have it if they want it, minus the bus pass money and the stuff I gave to the waitress after the first one," he babbled.

"Was this before or after Captain Brass's daughter hit on you?" he asked patiently.

"After.  We left that place after some nice nookie in the bathroom, carefully of course, and went to a nice, calm bar where we could have a snack.  Which I did.  A woman there flirted, I flirted back, went over to talk to her, she tried to pay me.  I told her I couldn't accept gifts, that you guys would mind.  She insisted, I told her no, she put it into my hand, kissed me twice, then left!"

"How much did she give you?" Sarah asked from the doorway.

"Twelve hundred.  I gave the waitress six of it and she gave me a kiss too."  He looked at Grissom.  "Then we went to that place behind King Arthur's stables and salsa danced.  And it happened a few more times, even though I protested.  I protested a lot, I even let Warrick protest one of them for me.  They still did it and none of them wanted more than  a kiss.  I don't know what I did last night or what got on me, but I swear, I didn't ask for it, I didn't offer it, I didn't solicit it.  I just got given it."

"Maybe you should join our bachelor auction," Grissom offered.

"No, Grissom, think about a high society woman going evil like his last one," Sarah protested.  "Please don't do that to us."  She got out of Captain Brass's way.  "Convince him we don't need Xander in the bachelor auction because we don't need more naughty rich people."

Brass looked at the kid.  "What happened after I drug my daughter away from you?"  Grissom handed over the statement.  "Nick told me about that."  He looked at the kid.  "As long as you didn't solicit it and tried to protest, it's a gift and you can keep it.  Use it to buy a new car."

"I can buy a Beamer for what I got given last night," he complained.  "I already thought about paying my rent ahead but I wasn't about to get into trouble for it.  It's bad enough Stanley laughs at me for it.  I had one woman there give me her diamond earrings and suggest I use them to give myself good piercings so I could play with them and remember her.  I didn't do more than flirt with her."  He looked at Grissom again.  "Greg wants to know how I do this.  Can we figure that out so I can stop it?  Before someone tries to kidnap me again?"

"Again?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah, when I was broken down one of my customers at the club wanted me more than the dancers because I brought him good beer.  He tried, really hard, but he was a bit too drunk and I walked off before he noticed."  He shrugged. "I don't know why."

"Calm down, Xander," Brass told him.  "They heard you saying no, right?"  He nodded quickly.  "Each and every time?"

"They might not have heard all of them," he offered.

"Yes we did," Greg called from the hallway.  "That's why Hodges was lurking near you.  That and to figure out what lines you were using."  He stuck his head in. "We did hear most of them and Hodges heard all of the later ones, Captain.  He really did protest very hard.  He even made a few of them take it back, and they pouted horribly at him for it.  So, Xander, new car tonight?"

"Yeah, we can do that," Xander agreed. "They want me in some bachelor auction."

"No, your allure is up close and personal, not in mass quantities.  You'd also have to offer them a dinner and a night out on the town."

"I can find a good restaurant and order," Xander reminded him.

"Yeah, but you'd have to use good manners all night and that means Hodges would have to brush you up on it again and then the rumors would come back."

"I don't know why, Greg, considering everyone thought we were two couples going out together last night," he said dryly.  "And later a trio and a couple going out together."  Brass snickered at that.  "They did!  The first club's bouncer thought we were two couples going out together and offered us the address of a nice gay club."

"Don't remind me," Nick said from the hallway.  He walked in and handed over a few envelopes.  "From the front desk. You didn't get your messages or badge."  He looked at Brass.  "That about how the women *insisted* he take money?"  He nodded.  "He okay?"

"As long as someone heard him protest."

"Oh, we did," Nick assured him. "Quite often.  Warrick and I had to drag him out of the salsa club and take him to a harder place so the rich women would leave him alone."

Xander opened the first envelope and whimpered, handing them to Captain Brass.  "Here, you need a new car," he said, walking off, going back to the ballistics lab.  "Can I actually come back today?" he asked.

"Yes, you can, and there's nothing to do yet.  I just finished one.  Go ahead and check the filed guns and then clean our stock pieces."

"Sure."  He went to check on the guns they had filed away as active cases.  "We're missing the Bergstrom?  There's a file and no gun or bullets."

"I just finished it, I'm doing the report."

"Cool."  He moved onto the next cabinet, looking through there.  "Enis?"

"Done.  Handed over and done."

"Sure."  He moved on, then moved to look at their supply of stock guns. They were dusty again and he could use the time cleaning them.  He pulled over a stool and the small table he used for this, along with the supplies and pulled down the first one to work over.

"Hey, Xander, want to be in the bachelor auction?" Catherine called.  She leaned in the door.  "I'll put in there that you need a mothering and gentle touch because you're shy and delicate."

His eyes went wide. "I don't need picked on about last night," he complained.

"I'm not.  We're short a few people.  What happened last night?"  He mumbled something.  "What?"

"He said people gave him money even though he protested," Hodges said from behind her.  "He protested a lot and they still did it.  We ended up having to save him from that at the salsa club."  He walked the envelopes inside and put them on Xander's usual spot.  "Captain Brass said he couldn't accept the gift either but that you could buy dinner the next time you and he went to the sports bar."

"Sure," Xander said weakly, staring at them.  "There's more?"

"Two of them came in Warrick's name.  One came in Greg's name, and three were in my box," Hodges told him.  "Overflow.  They apparently forgot your name but remembered your lips and hips."  He smirked at him.  "So, what are you ordering Greg and I for lunch today?"  Xander whimpered and put his head down, shaking it.  "Sure, we'll decide later, Xander."  He patted him on the back and went back to work, satisfied that he had finally gotten to pick on him about something.

"Hold on.  Women gave you money, even though you protested, and you didn't sleep with them?" Bobby asked.  Xander nodded, banging his head on the table.  "Why?"

"Ask Greg, he's trying to figure that out."

"If I asked, would you rub yourself on me after work tonight so I can go out clubbing?" Catherine asked.  "You'll need a tux for the auction, Xander.  Rentals are fine.  Give me an idea of where you're willing to take the young lady who wins you on a date within two weeks please."  She left, going to chat with Grissom and tell him about the other envelopes, but he and Brass were already chatting about it.  "Is it against regulations if I have him rub himself against me so I can go out clubbing and find someone to date tonight?"

"Probably not, but it could be seen as sexual harassment," Brass told her smugly.  "Where is he?"

"Hiding in ballistics, head down, banging it on a table."  She heard a louder bang and winced.  "Or maybe he just hit a filing cabinet, I'm not sure."

"That was me," Warrick shouted.  "Sorry!  Filing cabinet tipped."

"Are you all right?" she called back.

"Fine. I caught it in time."  He came down to the doorway.  "How's Xander?"

"Banging his head on a table."

"Yeah, I would too. He had to send us his castoffs at the first club.  The second club got him paid for no reason and a stolen kiss, and then the salsa club thing happened.  Then he gets stuff sent to him in my name today because they couldn't remember his, just my first one and that he worked down here."

"And my daughter hit on him," Brass noted.  "I drug her out of there before he made her want to go really bad."

"Good!  Hopefully she's careful and we can make sure she stays good.  There's got to be some sort of rehab for that poor guy's former girls."  He snapped his fingers.  "Oh, Greg said someone named Faith was in town and that a Buffy and a Willow wanted to see him?  She left before she could go bad again he said."

Brass shrugged a bit.  "His former friends, the ones with the interesting ideas on sports.  Buffy's the blond.  Willow was the redhead who came here."

"Okay then.  If they show up, we'll help hide him away.  Catherine, remember, he's shy, nice, sweet, kind, gentle, and makes women cream themselves with a kiss.  Plus he can't cook."

"I remember."  He went back to work, while she mentally prepared his intro for the auction since she was doing the MC job this year.  "Someone make sure he gets a tux."  She went back to add his name to her list, then went to talk to Nick and Warrick about joining in.  It would be good for the unit.  Archie had already been blackmailed into it.

"Do you wonder if we'll be bored after he's gone?" Brass asked.

"No, then we'll have to deal with the pouting and angry people he's leaving behind," Grissom said fondly, smirking at him.  "We'll be stormed by the women demanding we bring him back."

"Yeah, we probably will," he agreed, getting up and heading back to his office, shaking his head the whole way when he heard Xander whining about evil women to Bobby.

***

Vecchio opened his latest report from Vegas and stopped to reread it.  "Huh?" he asked, staring at the simple black letters.  They didn't make any sense to him. "Stanley, didn't you take Xander out to show him the nightlife?" he asked plainly.

"Yeah, why?  The kid got along well in the clubs, people hit on him, and that one woman gave him her diamond earrings after dancing with him so he could use them to pierce himself and remember her fondly forever.  Why?"

"Huh?" he asked again.

Stanley nodded, grinning at him.  "He tried to tell her no."

"He got tipped last night by some women at a salsa club and they wouldn't take it back."

"Basically the same thing as the diamonds.  He okay?"

"Hiding in misery.  Remind me to have him put on anytime we have to do one of those cheesy auctions here."

"Sure, Ray.  I'm sure he'll bring in a lot of money for us."  He turned back around to go back to work.  "He okay really?  I know he moaned and groaned for hours about those."

"Yeah, it says he's okay and Hodges made him buy him and Greg lunch so Greg could figure out why that stuff happened to him.  Warrick said that he passed his castoffs along to the rest of them too."  He shook his head.  "Lucky guy.  Must be like winning at the tables."

"Yeah, I guess, and he's in the right city for that," Stan agreed dryly.

Their fellow detective looked over at them.  "Who is this?"

"Xander, our new ballistics tech," Stanley told him.  "He protests to the point of whining at them to try to make them leave him alone."

"Yeah, we don't want the guy to date, ever," Vecchio agreed.  "He seems to draw bad girls to him, the sort that stalk or hurt others to make him happy and content."

"They should just feed him.  He'd follow them around like a puppy dog if they did," Stan pointed out happily.  "I can't wait until he has to take your mother shopping the first time. He's gonna be givin' her looks like she's a saint for weeks.'

"Why?" the other detective asked.

"He can't cook," Vecchio told him.  "No stove in their home, can't do a thing with them.  Didn't know what to do with a home cooked meal when Ma fed him the first time.  His manners have improved, I've got to give it to Hodges that he has helped him a lot."

"Why do these people like you?" the other detective asked.

"Xander sees me like a big brother and mentor."  Stanley gave him a long look.  "He does," he said firmly.

"Mm-hm.  Among other things. Benny noticed him giving you that same look of awe after you waxed the Riv with him that time."

"He likes my car, he's got good taste in that, Stanley," he defended.  "He's not odd like that."

"The kid's words were that he could appreciate about one out of ever ten thousand men or so, but he didn't think he could stick with one permanently because they'd turn bad too.  Oh, Renny backed him up.  Turnbull said that he felt that same slip toward improper behavior while they were watching curling the last time."

"He watches curling?" the other detective asked.  "Why?"

"Because he was basically raised by his female friends," Ray said dryly.  "He thought football had something to do with gay sex."

"Yeah, that's why we had that crash," Stanley muttered.  Ray stared at him.  "I wasn't prepared for it," he defended.  "Benny says some odd things but not that bad.  Again, Turnbull agrees with his definition of American football and soccer both.  Aggression with sexual overtones he calls them."

"That's it, no more hanging out at the Canadian consulate for you," Welsh said from his doorway.  "What's going on?"

"Xander had women offer him money last night and they wouldn't take no for an answer," Stanley told him.  "Just like with the earrings."

"I wondered where those had went to," Welsh said.

Vecchio groaned and shook his head.  "I don't.  He gave them to my mother for teaching him how to boil pasta.  I wondered about those."

"He told her some woman gave them to him after making a suggestive and sexual pass, but that he had turned her down and she insisted he keep them.  Since he couldn't wear earrings and not look silly, he thought she should have them and be beautiful, plus purify them into a suitable thing for real women to own," Stanley reported.  "We were watching ball when he gave them to her."

"So, this kid'll fit right in with our insanity and the Mounties?" the other detective asked.

They all nodded.  "Yeah," they agreed.  "Definitely."

"We just gotta watch the dating thing so no more serial killers, stalkers, or other assorted bad girls like him," Stanley told him.  "Otherwise we'll be overrun with them."

"Sure.  I'll help you run background checks on whoever he dates," Welsh promised.

"We need ta start with Turnbull," Stanley told him.  "He called the kid cool, refreshing water on the parched soul.  Thatcher likes him though."

"Oh, no, we're not losing him to Canada," Vecchio said firmly. "They can get their own ballistics tech with a trace minor."

"So this kid is good, he's talented, he's obviously a lover.  Anything I should watch out for?"

"Yeah, he' also a fighter and he's protective of what he considers his."

"I'd hate to be the next idiot who tries him," Welsh agreed.  "Impressive fighting ability."

"What is he, Ares, God of War?" the other detective asked.

"Not quite," Stan said dryly. "More like son of God of War and Mischief.  The love child nobody dares speak of," he finished with a smirk at Vecchio.  "Who likes him."

"It's a mentor/big brother thing," Vecchio insisted.

"If it's not, I don't care," Welsh told him.  "Just no groping and no turning evil."  He went back to his desk.

"Is that what's wrong with Frannie?" the other detective asked.  Ray and Stan both nodded.  "When will it break?"

"Probably not until she's decided he's too much trouble," Vecchio sighed, shaking his head.  That poor kid.  He wrote him a note back to check on him.

***

Xander finished up his final report and handed it over, then hugged Bobby.  "I'll miss you guys."

"We'll miss you and your mental problems too," Bobby assured him, hugging him back.  "Go ahead.  Say good bye to the others.  I know Hodges and Greg got theirs in last night, that's why they're not here today."  Xander nodded, going to find the others he wanted to say goodbye to.  "He'll be back," he assured himself.  "At least to visit now and then."

Xander found the captain and hugged him.  "Bye, Cap.  I'll miss you."

"We'll miss you too, Xander."  He patted him on the back.  "Remember, you can call and write.  Or visit now and then."

"I will.  My first vacation I'll be back."

"Good.  You all packed?"

"Everything's in the parking lot in my car.  Even my gun safe."

"Good job.  Hodges and Sanders?"

"Didn't come in today.  I told them bye last night though."

"That's fine.  Go find the others, kid."

"Yes, sir.  I'll miss you."  He hugged him again and headed off to find the others.  They were mostly out in the field, but he did get to hug Warrick and tell him bye.  He didn't even try to hug Sarah, just told her. He was still scared of her. He left the notes he had written out last night at the front desk and hugged Patricia.  She got in a good grope of his butt but he relented and allowed it.  Then he handed in his pass and left, heading out to leave the city of lights and head for one that had snow, which he had never seen before.  He had an apartment waiting on him already, he'd found one his last trip back there and Ray and Stan had both approved of the neighborhood.  He backed his car out and headed off, going toward the interstate. He really would miss Vegas, he'd have to come back all the time and guilt Hodges and Greg to come visit him too.

***

Xander parked behind the twenty-seventh precinct and got out, watching the insanity as it flowed past him.  A few cops gave him a tired smile.  "Bad week?"

"Yeah, gang thing on Racine," one of them offered.  "Vecchio's upstairs."

"Cool."  He locked his car and put on his alarm.  "My gun safe's still in there but it's got a fingerprint code on it."  The cops nodded at that, watching him walk inside.  He wove through the gang members, smiling at a few who were backing away from him.  "Yes, it's me."  He jogged up the steps and pushed open the doors, looking at the people staring at him.  "What?  I come here to work and slave for you and you stare like I'm an alien?"

"Well, you are strange," Stanley offered from his desk.  "You in for good?"

"Yup, sure am," he said happily.  He walked into the head office and saluted.  "Reporting for duty, sir."

"You found a place and moved and all that stuff?"

"All I have to do is unload my car.  It's not like I have a lot of stuff.  I have a place though. It's just gonna be another two days before I can move in.  They're painting."

"Fine."  He looked up at the kid.  "Final evaluations?"

"I'm assuming they're being sent.  Grissom was in the field and Captain Brass didn't hand me any."

"That's fine, Xander.  When can you start?"

"Um, now?" he suggested.  "Since you're overrun with gang kids?"

"They were taking baseball bats to each other.  No guns.  You still have your pass and ID?"  He nodded, pulling them out and putting them around his neck.  "Good.  Go check in with Mort, go unload your car, and he'll tell you when you can start."

"Sure.  Thanks, Lieutenant."  He walked out, heading back down the stairs, after he refilled Ray's empty coffee cup since he was nodding off at his desk.  He walked into the lab and looked around, smiling at the pretty new walls.  "I like, it even has that clean smell the last lab missed."  Mort laughed from his office, coming out.  "I'm here.  I have to unload my car sometime this week but otherwise I'm here."

"That's good.  We don't need you today. The last person doesn't leave for a week and you've already worked out everything with her, or so she said?"  He nodded quickly.  "Good.  Any luck on us stealing Hodges?"

"I offered him a chance to come with me but he decided he should probably stay for now.  I am going to make him come out to visit and he knows he's got an open offer here if something goes wrong there and he has to leave, like his new neighbor finishes trying to kill him."

"They are?"

"Yeah, they're swingers and the wife doesn't like cops, especially since he won't play with her.  So she's decided he must go."

"Well, if that boy needs it, he's welcome here," Mort assured him.  "How's your replacement?"

"They were choosing her when I left.  It was between the lady from Miami and the guy from Texas.  He was uptight and smiled a whole lot with too many teeth and reminded me a lot of a defense attorney I got to help arrest, she was a babbling nice lady but she was a bit odd.  She asked Bobby if Sarah were gay, said she pinged her 'dar.  She had never dated because she was so focused on her school work, but she thought she liked girls.  So Bobby told her the plain truth.  Sarah's sexual preference is Nope.  My personal opnion was Impossible, as in she'd never let anyone that close and never take even an hour off to get some.  The only thing more impossible in the universe than Sarah having sex would be us to grow another sun and find out Mars had living plant creatures who liked Barney and were what Prozac was made from.  This woman has never taken a day off that wasn't forced on her.  If she's ever had willing, consensual sex since she started working as a CSI, I'd be fucking amazed."

Mort laughed at that.  "We've had a few like that.  We usually call them focused."

"I called her Captain Impossible.  You couldn't please her most of the time.  She was sexless, didn't really like to get close to anyone, and didn't laugh at my jokes most of the time.  Captain Obvious, or Greg, was usually a lot more fun to be around after hours or on shift."

Mort smiled at him.  "I'm sure they'll pick her.  It'd be an easier transition after having you there.  So, Monday?"

"Saturday?  Sure," he agreed, grinning at him.

"She'll still be here then, Xander."

"Yes, but if I can come in on Saturday, she'll have time to say some goodbyes and goodbyes are important. I found that out long ago.  So, Saturday?  Half day, full day?  You got a preference?"

"No, not really."  He picked up the ringing phone.  "Yes?"  He smiled.  "That would be fine, Lieutenant.  He's still down here.  I'll send him right up."  He hung up and looked at Xander.  "Vecchio's asleep at his desk.  He wanted you to take him home."

"Sure.  Not an issue. Let me go move the gun safe so he doesn't have to nap on it."  He pulled out his keys as he walked.  "Noon, Saturday?"

"That's fine, Xander.  Thank you."  He nodded, waving as he walked off.  He rolled his eyes.  "That boy is something else, but very good at what he does."  He went back to the office to make a note of when Xander should be in.

Xander walked up to his car, finding someone trying to get in the back door.  He looked at the cop watching him, looking amused.  Then at the crook.  He coughed.  "Excuse me, but that's a *gun* safe, not a money safe," he said blandly, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Even if you were to break into my car, it's got a fingerprint coded lock and a security passcode to input.  Since you have neither my finger nor that code, it won't do you much good.  It's not drillable, burnable, or even explodeable.  I tested one before I bought it."  The crook glared at him and pulled out a gun.  "Oh, so now you're going to make more work for me.  Sure, go ahead.  Shoot someone, I'm the guy they'll give the gun to so I can convict you."

"What?" he demanded.

"I'm the new ballistics tech, moron magnet.  It's my job to prove that your gun shot someone when you do.  That means if you fire off that little pop cap gun, it'll be my job to put you away."  He looked him over.  "Did the moron tower fall on you to make sure you got the wrong signal this morning?  Because you obviously have over-indulged on the moron vibe."

"Shut up!" he shouted, shooting into the ground at Xander's feet.

Xander held up a hand to stop the cop from moving.  "No, don't bother."  He walked forward, taking the gun and kneeing the guy in the stomach.  "You might want to reconsider trying a person who just told you they handle many weapons every day.  Considering what I can do to a weapon, that means I can cause pretty amounts of hell in return for you shooting at my feet.  By the way, your gun aims to the right.  Next time, check your aim before you fire or you might end up hitting something you didn't want to, like the only person who could save your life.  You know, like that cop."   He made him stand up, looking into his eyes.

"Yeah, you and the moron signal tower had a bit too much fun together last night.  So let's let you dry out and then you'll be a good boy and tell them how mean I was, and then tell everyone in your cell block how mean I was.  Remember me, moron.  I'm Harris.  I'm CSI Harris.  I dismantle bombs.  I do ballistics, I do trace, and I'm a marksman with guns and artillery.  I'm the one who can make any crook's life a living fucking nightmare and it gets me off," he hissed.  "So spread it around so I don't have to be quite the asshole in the future.  You got that?"  He nodded quickly and Xander patted him on the cheek. "Good dog.  Now sit!"  The man sat and stared up at him as the cop handcuffed him.  "Good boy.  You remember to tell the others I'm here and that Vecchio brought me here to help him."  The man burst out crying.  "Good boy.  You just tell the others so they know."  He walked around him, getting into the back seat so he could move the gun safe to the floor once he had pushed the front seat forward.  "There, much better napping spot."  He got out, turning to find the Lieutenant.  "I was making him a more comfy napping spot."

"Has it occurred to you that you're not a cop?"  Xander looked confused.  "That you're not wearing a vest and he could have shot you?"

"With the way he was holding that gun, you could tell he only had one bullet, that he had not a clue what to do with a gun, and with how limp-wristed he was holding it on us, I doubt he didn't damage himself with the minimal recoil that thing had.  He couldn't have hit me, or the cop standing there, because he didn't know how to aim.  He was in more danger of an accidental firing than an intentional one.  I know what I'm doing, Lieutenant. Really.  I've faced off with bigger and badder than him and made them piss themselves in fear."  He stepped a bit closer.  "Among the strange and unusual happenings community, I'm known very well.  They know I'm no longer actively hunting but that I used to.  That I was good.  They know not to come near me and tempt me as well.  Having one person in too much touch with the moron signal tower prove it to the rest of them isn't going to harm things and it'll keep people from trying me.  That's why he broke out crying.  I'm not helpless.  I'm actually very good and I did do some limited training with SWAT in Vegas since they allowed me to.  He had less chance of shooting me than he did of shooting himself.  Now, let me go get the nice detective so I can carry him home. That guy couldn't even open my back door correctly."

He closed the door and headed up the stairs, going to wake Ray up.  He gave him a light nudge to the shoulder, getting a sleepy complaint.  "Hey, Ray, it's Xander.  Wanna go home and nap?  That chair's gonna hurt your neck and I'm not the best at neck rubs.  Come on, I'll drive you home, buddy.  My back seat's all cleared just for you and you can nap until Ma gets hold of you."  He helped him up and down the stairs, letting him curl up in the back of his car.  "There you go.  Watch your feet."  He closed the door and got around to drive, heading up to Ray's mother's house.  He took a few wrong turns but he'd only driven this way himself a few times.  He even got to drive past the consulate and beeped at Turnbull standing guard.  He finally made it to Ray's house and parked in the driveway, smiling at the guy who opened the door.  "Hey, Tony.  Ray fell asleep at work.  Let me get him inside."

"Need help?"

"No, we're good."  He moved back to open the door by his feet, patting him on the ankles.  "We're here, Ray.  Come on.  Come toward your feet so I can help you inside.  Ma's waiting on you and so's Tony."  Vecchio mumbled something and he pulled him up, but Ray reached for his gun.  Xander caught his hand.  "Ray, it's Xander.  You can't shoot me your mother will get mad at you.  You know that.  Besides, then Turnbull will have to go evil and be mean and snarky on you.  Come on, buddy.  Let's go inside and I'll put your gun away for you."  Ray made a whining noise.  "Tough.  Come on. You can nap on the special couch."  He got him up and walking into the house, laying him down on the couch he had once napped on.  He patted him down, emptying his pockets, putting his guns aside, and taking off his shoes.  He looked up as Tony came back in.  "I hope you didn't lock it. I can't pick locks."

"No, I just closed the back door.  What sort of safe was that?"

"Gun safe.  It's mine."  He picked up Ray's guns.  "Where's his?"

"His room.  Lockbox in his closet.  Keys are on his ring."

"Thanks."  He took Ray's keys and his guns upstairs, unloading them and storing them properly in the lockbox.  He sealed it, checked it, then took the keys back downstairs to put back with his stuff.  Tony was covering him with a throw.  "He'll be uncomfortable in his jacket."

"He'll wake up soon.  He's been napping a few times recently.  There's been a lot of stakeouts and long hours."

"That's one of the reasons why I'm here," he promised, patting him on the arm.  "Okay, I'm going back to the Holiday Inn.  They're doing the painting of my place today.  I've got my phone and it's still a Vegas number so I'll get that switched later or tomorrow.  Let him rest, he looks like he could use a full day and the Lieutenant told me to bring him home."  Tony nodded at that.  "Cool beans. I'll call from the hotel to tell you my room number."  He left, jogging back out to his car. He retraced his route, ending up in front of the consulate.  He parked and turned on his flashers, heading up to look at Turnbull.  "I'm back and I'm here for good," he said with a grin.  "Listen, I'm heading to the Holiday Inn, but if you want lunch with me today, just call there.  I'm usually on the lower floor. Have a happy guard shift."  He headed back to his car and headed to his hotel.  Checking in was easily done and his three bags and his safe were quickly carried in.  He called Ray's house to tell them what room he was in, then sat down to watch some tv while he checked his normal gear out and put it on.  His gun, his license in his wallet.  His backup on his ankle, which Ray had shown him how to do and not limp alarmingly.  His new vest got pulled out and set aside.  His pass got set on top of it.  His duffle bag for his locker also got set on top of it with his pass on top of that and wrapped around the handle.  Someone knocked on his door so he walked over to open it, grinning at Stan.  "I promised Turnbull first lunch if he wanted it, but you can join us."

"Nah, I'm not here for that."  He walked inside and looked at the vest, then at him.  "You scared that poor putz badly," he said once the door was closed, smirking at him.  "Feel better?"

"Hell yeah.  Scaring and a good rep means people won't try you to test themselves against you.  I'd rather be thought of as scary than nerdy and weak by the stupid and criminal elements."

"I agree," he offered.  "Welsh don't."

"Yay.  That's why I'm a tech.  Mort knew I'd do something like this.  He said so the last time I was in.  That's why I helped interrogate that one guy."

"Point," Stan agreed.  "Welsh got reminded of that by Benny, who said the same thing you did.  He'll relent.  You shouldn't need tha vest."

"Yay."

"Point," he agreed.  "So, no apartment yet?"

"Painting."

"Furniture shopping?"

"Already done, waiting to be delivered when the landlord calls them to tell them it's painted and dry.  All I need to do is bed shop.  They wouldn't hold an order even if I did pay for it in advance.  I know what I want so I'll go get it tomorrow and have it delivered then since they said it'd just have to dry tomorrow."

"Good.  Anything else you gotta do?"

"I need more gun oil," he offered.  "I did my licenses already.  My driver's license is done, I did that my last trip too."  He considered it.  "Other than maybe doing a bit of clothes shopping or finding a good laundromat, no."

"Laundry's not a problem.  Ray knows a good dry cleaner.  I've got a good place to go to wash.  You've got a case this afternoon.  The old one said give it to you so she wouldn't be kept and you wouldn't have to redo her work."

"Sure.  What is it?"

"Homicide, strange weapon," he said, holding up the crime scene photo.

Xander looked at it.  "Wood splinters looks like.  Staked.  In the right spot too.  Is she a hunter or was her spouse?"

"No spouse."

"Really?  Interesting."  He took it and the others.  "Yeah, it's a stake," he offered, looking up at him. "Garden variety it looks like.  It's got flat sides by the internal parts of the hole."  He went back to studying it.  "I'm betting there's probably dirt in it unless someone planned this out.  If you can find dirt, we can do a soil analysis to find out which garden it came from. It's almost got to be someone who knows her.  The average person doesn't stake someone inside their own house.  Friend, relative, someone they're dating or sleeping with."

"Well, that narrows it down a lot," Stan noted dryly.  "Nothing else right off?"

"If there's wood splinters, we can tell you what type and that could narrow down the gardens to look in or where they got them from, but most of them these days are commercially available and plywood or something treated with an herbal bug destroyer."  He handed them back.  "We can test any samples and do a trace search for which brands those are and where they sell them."

"Thanks, Xander.  That's really helpful.  There's a girl at the sixteenth who heard your name and shrieked, then stomped off muttering.  I told her you'd be in this weekend and to stop in and say hi because you didn't do that anymore, leaving out what 'that' was.  She promised she would.  I'm guessing she deals in what you used to too.  That's why we got told to give this one to you.  Anything like this comes to you automatically as a CSI.  So you'll be in when to run those samples?"

"Later this afternoon good?"

"Sure, fine with me.  Mort said whenever."  He shrugged and grinned. "Welcome home."

"Thanks.  You made me feel really loved already," he teased back.  "I'm still going to lunch with Turnbull.  At the latest I'll have the report on your desk in the morning.  I'm still stuck on evening shift."

"Sure.  That's fine.  You sure you got everything you need but gun oil?"

"Yup, I'm sure. Thanks, Stan.  I'll let you bring me to the pound in a few weeks."

"No problem.  Just call."  He grinned and left him the pictures, walking out to head back and report in.  Xander was good, he'd have this one solved within a week.

***

Xander wandered into the comic shop Turnbull had found that dealt with the real strange stuff, nodding politely at the proprietor. "I'm looking for stakes," he said.

"Stakes?  Why?"

"Because I'm tired of making my own," he said honestly.  He pulled out his new business card, handing it over.  The guy read the front and flinched, then the back and frowned.  "I'm also searching for one for a case."  He handed over the picture of the wound.  "It's square with rounded corners.  That tells me it's not a garden stake and it's been made to be used.  I hear you know about such things and I was checking in anyway."

"Knight," he said, swallowing.  "I...."

"It's like a former life for me," he said gently.  "I still retain the memories but they're going to come out only when it's a world fucking emergency.  As in the world is bending over to take it up the ass.  Got it?"  The guy nodded quickly.  "Good.  You keep that.  It's got my new cell number on it."  He looked around, then back at him.  "Who's the local stake maker?"

"I am," he admitted.  "I do round off the corners so they're more comfortable to use and carry.  Who is this?"  He showed the picture of the victim's face.  "I know her.  Her niece is a slayer."

"Where is she?"

"No one's seen her in a few days," he admitted quietly.  "Let me get you her address."

"Do they live together?"

"Sometimes but she's also up at the college."  He wrote it down, sliding the card under his register.  He handed over the address.  "There you go.  Do you need anything else?"

"Yeah, I still need a few stakes.  I lost my last one," he said dryly.  "I prefer round though."  He tapped a plastic one. "Very good work on whoever molded that."

"It's a case over a real one," he offered, opening it to show him.  "It's yew so it's fragile."

"It's adorable.  Got any in oak? I need something sturdy I won't crush in my hand.  I'm not one of the ladies of the night but I could have sworn I heard Dru cackling earlier."

"She is in town," he admitted, glancing around again.  "She knows you?"

"Yup, I'm her Dark Kitten.  She loves me.  Then again, Spike loved me when he was tied to my chair too."  He shrugged.  "Oak?"  He nodded, heading into the back.  When he came back, Xander tested the weight and the balance, then smiled.  "I like.  I'll take three.  How much?"

"Ten each, Knight."

"Xander," he corrected.  "I'm only a Knight when the world is bending over and grabbing its ankles."

"What about the city?" he asked quietly.

"If I'm needed.  Nothing less." He nodded quickly.  He handed over thirty and put the three stakes into his pocket, tucking the address into the file he carried.  "Thank you.  Be safe and be well."  He walked out into the weak afternoon sunlight, looking up at the sky.  "A perfect night for hunting. I guess I'm not going clubbing tonight."  He got into his car and headed for the address.  He knew vaguely where it was and there were signs pointing to the college.  He found the right dorm building and walked in, nodding politely at the security guards.  "Hi.  CSI Harris."  He shook their hands.  "One of the residents had an aunt who just died and I need to ask her about something we found.  Is she here?"

"I know the one you want.  She's been locked in her room all day," one of them offered.  "She's still crying.  Poor thing."

"That's fine.  Can you let me up there and in?"  He nodded, walking him that way once Xander had signed in.  Xander knocked and the door opened a bit.  "Tiffany.  I'm Xander Harris."  She opened the door fully, staring at him.  "We need to ask you a few questions.  May I?"  She raised an eyebrow and he walked in.  "I promise, I'm not here to upset you more."

"I know."  She gave the guard a weak smile.  "Thank you."  He nodded and left, letting her shut the door.  "Why are you here?  I've heard of you."

"Because I saw the marks on your aunt and I was handed the case because I'm the ballistics tech for the second district."  She shivered.  "Did she startle you?"

She burst out crying, nodding.  "I heard a noise and I heard glass breaking so I ran down the stairs and I staked before I knew why because that stupid vampiress is following me!" she sobbed, clinging to him.

"Shh, little one. I understand.  I dealt with Faith.  I..."  He sighed.  "I have to take you in, Tiffany.  You still killed someone and it's been noted."  She looked up at him.  "I can't not do my job.  I can give you to someone who'll understand and try to help you plea to something like probation.  It sounds like it was a real accident."  She nodded.  "Now, put on shoes and let's go."

"I can't... I can't go to jail."

He stared her down.  "If you come peacefully, you might not.  If you fight, I'll have to arrest you and bring you in.  That'll look bad and they'll be less likely to give you a light slap on the wrist. You don't want to make me be mean, right?"  She shook her head, wiping off her eyes.  "Then let's go."

"I can't."  She picked up a stake.  "I can't do that," she said with a hysterical laugh. "I'm so sorry!"  She tried to stake him but he ducked and broke her wrist.  She screamed and started to cry again.  "Why!"

"Because it's my job."  He opened the door at the pounding, letting the guard in.  "Her aunt startled her," he said gently, holding the girl against his chest.  "It was an accident."  He gaped.  "She just tried to get away and I grabbed her wrong. Can you get her shoes and jacket?"  He nodded, pushing her shoes over and grabbing her jacket off the back of the door.  He gave him her wallet and keys as well.  "Thank you," he said quietly, walking her out and down to his car.   He got her in and buckled up, then squatted down beside her.  "You'll be fine within a few hours," he said gently.

"I know, but you still...."

"Tiffany, I am a Knight.  I will protect myself and others when I must."  She nodded, slumping down.  "I won't tell Stanley what happened unless he asks.  It'll look bad on you and it was a hysterical movement on your part.  All right?"

"You just don't want me to tell on you."

"Honey, I'm not a cop.  I'm a CSI guy.  I'm a ballistics tech.  What're they gonna do, tell me I can't play with the guns?"  She grimaced.  "Besides, they know I'll defend myself."

"The city'll be overrun without me," she said frantically.

"No it won't.  There's others here and a new girl always comes.  They did on the hellmouth and it was worse.  Besides, I'm gonna go have a talk with Dru."  He stood up and shut the door, walking around to get in and drive.  He got them back to the station and walked her up the stairs, taking her right to Stanley's desk, ignoring the person sitting there.  "We need to talk to you.  It was an accident.  Someone was stalking her and she heard someone enter and a glass break."

Stanley looked up at the girl, then at Xander.  "I wasn't sure if it wasn't," he admitted. "Is she okay?"

"She got a bit hysterical and I had to grab her, I did it wrong and hurt her wrist.  She'll be fine.  Where do you want to sit her?"

"Interrogation two is free.  I'll be right there.  Yo, Huey, come do this form for me?  He just broke my homicide."  He got up to follow them after having a word with Welsh about it.  He got a nod.  He grabbed the file and went to talk to the poor kid.  He was way too soft, her eyes said she was going mad and would kill again. Or maybe he'd seen it before since he was telling her about someone named Faith.  He walked in and shut the door behind him, sitting across from her.  "Hi, Tiffany.  I'm Stan Kowalski.  I'm the detective handling your aunt's murder."

"It was an accident," she cried.

"I thought it could be," he agreed gently.  Xander whispered in his ear and he nodded.  "That's fine.  Welsh said accidents happen but this had better be the only one this year."  Xander whispered something else and he nodded.  "Thought so."  He looked at him, raising an eyebrow.  "How was lunch?"

"Good.  Tonight I'm free but I have someone I need to hunt down and talk to.  I'll be free after ten."  He grinned lightly and walked out, going to fill out the form at Ray's desk since it was free.  He printed it and walked it in to Welsh.  "She did try to attack me," he said gently.  "She's confused, she's slowly going insane, and I'm calling in someone to help her."

"She deals with the strange crap?"

"She's the front line of defense in the strange crap and someone was stalking her she said."  Welsh nodded at that.  "It'll be fine. I'll get Faith up here to talk to her and help her through this when she can.  That's what I found, where I found her, what happened minus the attempted assault since she was hysterical at that time and it'll only cause her more harm, and how we got here.  Need me for anything else before Saturday?"

"No, kid.  You did good.  No more like that this year."

"If possible."

"Thank you."  He watched the kid walk out and hop down the first few stairs.  Then he slowly shook his head as he read the report.  It was good, concise, and read well.  The DA would love it since he had done it immediately and it didn't sound like someone had written it with their toes while they sucked on the end of the pen.  Unlike some of the guy's reports. He called down to Mort to tell him they had a suspect in custody on that case and left it there.  He'd figure out they had given it to Xander and Xander would back it up with reasonable proof for the court.  Hopefully the kid would plead for a mental health sentence.

***

Xander walked into his new place and looked around. "Nice," he praised, looking at his new furniture, his new bed, everything was where it should be.  He put down his bags, then went to get his safe and bring it up.  It went into the spare bedroom and then he went to call for takeout.  Ray had gotten him every menu he could find and put them all on his counter for him.  Just so he'd feel at home.

Epilogue:

Xander leaned on the evidence table, looking at the pictures.  "That's an impossible shot, Mort. There's no gun that can go that long.  It had to be closer and by the angle had to come from about thirty degrees higher than the guy's head was pointing already.  That means I'd say one of these six," he said, pointing at a few buildings.  "They're in range, their view isn't blocked, they're high enough to have a tenth or higher story, and they're accessible.  Unless he had federal access cards, he couldn't have gotten in the FBI center and used their upper levels."  His phone rang and he answered it.  "Hey," he said happily.  "Hodges, my man, what's going on?"  He stood up, scratching the back of his head. "What do you mean you've got a stalker?"  He took a deep breath.  "Do they know?  Then you come visit me suddenly.  They can track anyone coming or going from the city if they follow and if not, it'll break her pattern.  Yes, I do mean now."   The phone hung up suddenly and he looked at it.  "Signal's fine.  Battery's fine."  He dialed it again.  No answer.  He hung up and tried again.  Busy.  He dialed another number.  "Sarah, it's Xander.  What just happened?  I was on the phone with Hodges, helping him with ideas for his stalker and the line suddenly cut.  Yes, I'm serious.  Then check, Sarah, I can wait."  He looked down at his dog, picking her up to hold her.  "It's all right.  You'll like Hodges when he comes out to help us," he whispered, keeping the phone next to his ear.  She came back.  "Anything?"  He went perfectly still.  "I'm on the next plane out.  If you need me to work it, I will.  If not, I'm there for them."  He hung up.  "Mort...."

"Go," he ordered.  "Bring them back if they want to come. We've got open spots anyway."  Xander nodded, taking his dog with him out to the car.  He called upstairs.  "Detective, something just happened to some of Xander's friends.  He's headed back to Vegas, you'll have to tell your mother he can't make Saturday dinner this week.  No, he said stalker, then called someone else.  He said he'd help work the case or not if they needed him, but he'd be there for them otherwise."  He smiled.  "Of course.  Let me know when you know something."  He hung up and marked the buildings Xander had mentioned, going to send his field techs out to look them over. "Xander said that's too long of a distance for that sort of shot."  They all groaned.  "So now we have a position but no crime and a crime without a known position.  He did say it'd have to be at least a tenth story and have an unblocked view.  He picked out a few buildings within probable range."  He handed over the list.  "Go for it.  He'll be back in a few days.  Something just happened in Vegas."

"Are they okay?" one of them asked, pulling on her jacket.

"I don't know yet.  They were talking and the line went dead."  They shivered.  "Go."  They headed out and he went back to work.  Fortunately he had the backup ME for days like today.

***

Xander walked off the plane and found Captain Brass standing there.  "What happened?"

"Hodges' stalker," he said grimly.  "Come on.  I'll drive you to the hospital.  Gil said you could help him find the explosive device."  Xander's bag barked and he looked at the little head that popped out.  "Hey, how are you?"

"That's Sarah but she's got balls.  Reminded me a lot of her."  He got into the car he knew so very well, buckling in automatically.  The captain got in to drive and they were off.  "What happened?  In sequence if possible.  I was on the phone with Hodges when it went dead."

"There was an explosion.  Someone mined the air conditioning system with an explosive.  It blew through the pipes, ripping the building to shreds."

"If it did that much damage there must have been more than one device, probably smaller, more focused ones," he said thoughtfully.  "The ducts blowing would create damage but not like I saw on the news broadcast."

"We think so but we can't prove it.  They vaporized from what I saw."

"Residue?"

"Can't get close enough yet.  Fire Marshal ran us off."

"Okay.  Who's hurt?"

"Nick's got a leg injury.  Greg's got a head injury.  Hodges is badly injured but mostly a bunch of little ones together.  Bobby nearly got an arm taken off.  Archie's in surgery the last I knew.  Mia has some burns, the lab exploded around her.  Worse than Greg had when he had his.  Grissom was in the field with Warrick and Catherine.  Sarah had one of her days off in a blue moon.  The others made it and are mostly okay.  The cops were mostly in the field.  The holding cells were the other hardest hit area."

"I need blueprints.  Unless there was a major trunk there...."

"There's not and we're not sure why."

"Well, holding does mirror the unit's position on the other side," Xander said thoughtfully.  "Which means the person's never been inside so they don't know which side they're on."

"I hadn't thought of that."  He pulled into the hospital parking lot and watched as Xander got out before he had stopped the engine.  The dog was back in his bag and Xander was heading for the elevators when he walked in.  "Five West, Xander.  They're all together in a closed off unit."

"Thanks."  He pushed the button a few times until the door opened, then he got on and held it for him.  "Do they need anything?"

"Not yet.  Maybe some sanity," he offered as the elevator stopped.  "Right."  Xander headed right, stopped by the cop at the door.  "That's CSI Harris.  He interned with us last year.  He's always admitted, no matter what."  The guard made a note of that and let them in.  "Bobby's in 512, Hodges is in 514, Greg may still be up in ICU.  Archie's in 516 if he's back.  The new tech intern is in 518 if she's here."

Xander tossed his bag at Sarah.  "Don't upset my dog."  He headed into Hodges' room first, staring at him.  "Did one of my evil women come after you?" he asked plainly.

Hodges gave him a weak smile.  "I wish.  This one wanted me because I'm the one who found out she killed her three kids and her husband for the insurance money."  He moaned as he held up an arm.  "Can I have a hug?"

"Of course."  He walked over to hug him as hard as he dared, getting a small moan but he didn't ease up.  "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"No.  I hate women."

"Me too, buddy.  Me too."  He pulled back to look him over.  "What's wrong?"

"Sixteen stitches in my side.  I lost my spleen."

"It didn't do much anyway," he promised.  "Anything else?"

"I ache."

"I do whenever I'm in here too."  He brushed some of his hair out of the way of his bandaged forehead.  "You look like you need someone to fuss."

"I do," he agreed.

"Good, then you'll be coming back with me while you heal so I can fuss.  It's not like they can rebuild the entire station within a day and you'll need time to heal and someone to watch over you."

"I can do that here."

"Fat chance.  You won't let anyone but me fuss over you.  You said so.  Unless you want Greg to fuss over you?" he asked with a small grin.  "Or Catherine?"

"No, I'll come home with you so you can fuss until I'm better."  He heard the bark.  "What's that?"

"My dog, Sarah."

"You named your dog after me?" Sarah asked from the doorway.  "He's cute."

"He's a she, his former mommy was putting balls on him.  She reminded me a lot of you when I found her at the pound."  She smiled at that.  "Where's Greg?"

"ICU.  He won't wake up."  She brought the dog in, watching as the little thing walked up Hodges' chest and sat down on it so she could lick his face until he pushed her away. "She's loving.  A lot more loving than me."

"She loves what I love," he said dryly.  "She bit someone threatening me the other day."  He grinned at her.  "She's a lot like you most of the time.  Even the wolf likes her.  He lets her ride on his back to go for walks outside and steal food from the detectives' desks."  He patted his dog's back.  "You guard him while I go check on Greg and Bobby, Sarah. I'll be right back."  She barked and laid down on Hodges's stomach, curled up and staring at him.  "She does that to me every night.  You'll learn to sleep through it soon."  He got up with one last pat.  "Be right back."  He walked out and down the hall, popping in on Bobby.  "Damn," he said, staring at his arm.  "That fucking sucks."

"Yeah, but it's saveable," he said, looking at the place on his arm where they had to stitch it back together again.  He looked at Xander.  "You're doing ballistics."

"Of course I am.  You're injured.  Your intern is injured.  I'm good on bombs, construction, and all this stuff.  You rest, let me work."  Bobby grinned. "I'd hug you but you usually try to swat me.  I'll let my dog come kiss you later."

"Sure," he offered with a grin. "Go check on Greg."  He nodded, hurrying out.  A few minutes later he heard little nails clicking his way and a small dog jumped up on his bed, coming up to sniff him then give him a few kisses before going back to Hodges' room.  "Must be his.  I don't think she's a hospital dog.

Xander walked into the ICU unit, hugging Greg's mother.  "I'm here to help.  How is he?"

"Bad, Xander."  She led him into the room, glaring at the nurse looking their way.  "I don't know why he won't wake up and neither do they."  She noticed Xander was staring just above his body and pulled his head down. "Is he out of it?"  He nodded.  "Can you make him go back?"

"I think I can," he offered.  He moved closer, taking out a small pin to poke Greg's finger with.  He leaned down next to his ear.  "If you do not get back in your body, I will cook and make you eat it by shoving it through your feeding tube," he hissed.  "I will let my dog lick it first and then do it."  He saw Greg smile at that. "Follow the cord, Greg."  The spirit Greg held it up, showing the frayed edge.  "It's still got a thread, there's always a thread.  If you die, I'm bringing you back as a zombie."  Greg groaned, his physical body groaned.  "Good boy.  Now follow it back and dive back into your body, Greg.  Make me a happy Xander so you and Hodges can both come stay with me until you're better."  He saw Greg slowly working his way back and tapped the pin on his hand a few more times.  Finally he got a moan and Greg's eyelids moving.  "Come on, you can do it.  Head toward those too- bright lights and I might even make you good coffee."  The eyes opened a bit and the head barely turned to glare at him.  He grinned.  "I mean it.  Don't do that again."  He leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.  "Come on back to me, Greg.  I promise, the pain's bad but worth it.  Otherwise you're going to be dogged by my dog, Sarah.  Her mother was putting balls on her so they took her away.  She reminds me a lot of Sidle.  She's a fierce little thing who helps Diefenbaker steal food."  Greg groaned.  "No, don't you dare," he said, pinching him on the ear.  "I'll find someone to lock you in there."

Greg blinked at him, then growled.  He snorted and looked at his mother, nodding weakly at Xander.  "I know, dear, but he's helping.  You almost died on me."  She kissed him on the cheek.  "I'd almost rather you went to Chicago.  This is the third time you've gotten hurt here in Vegas, Greg.  I don't like it."

"Third?"

"He got shot in the leg a few months back," she said primly.

Xander looked down.  "And you didn't tell me why?"

"You'd fuss," Greg mouthed.

"Yeah, and now you're in for it big time.  You think I woulda fussed before, just wait.  You and Hodges are coming home with me until you're both well.  If you try to flee or escape, I will handcuff you and bring you back.  I'm sure Ray would help me, he thinks I'm losing my fun side anyway."

"Fine," he mouthed.  "Air tube?"

"Hey, nurse?"  She came in. "He's awake, can he breathe on his own now?"

She came over to check on him, noticing the marks on his hand.  "What did you do?"

"Poked him to produce stimulus that in addition to my voice woke him.  We're buddies."

"I see."  She stared at him, then at Greg.  "Fine, boyfriends are more than allowed full visitation.  Let me get the doctor, Mr. Sanders.  We'll see if we can pull that.  Open up, let me spray some more numbing stuff around it so you don't gag."  He did so and she sprayed something that smelled like chocolate.  "There you go, give me ten minutes.  Okay?" He shook his head. "Tough, he's playing golf."  She went to call, smiling the whole way back.

Xander leaned down again, kissing him on the forehead.  "Talk to your mom, I'm going to go visit with Hodges again. I'll bring my dog up the next time I come up and we'll be fine.  I'm working on this.  Bobby said so."  Greg smiled at that.  "So stay in there this time," he ordered, giving him a small grin.  "I'll be back in about an hour, okay?"  Greg nodded slowly.  "Good, Greg.  Very good, Greg."  He stroked his hair and left, hurrying back down the floor, taking his dog back from the nurse.  "Thank you. She is house and houseplant trained though.  I wanted her guarding him.  She's a very clean dog."  He walked back into the waiting area.  "Greg's awake."  Brass relaxed.  Grissom hurried out.  "Bobby said I'm helping.  We have it official?"

"We do," Brass agreed.  "You and Sarah."

"Fine.  I want blueprints, and I want photos so I can figure out where the secondaries were originally.  Also, shoo off the Fire Marshal.  It's pretty evident what caused it, it's a no brainer."

"Sure, Xander."  Brass went to make those calls, watching as he went back to sit with Hodges.  "Sheriff, it's Jim.  Xander Harris is back, he has volunteered.  He said he wants photos, overhead and hallway probably, and blueprints.  Yeah, he used to work construction.  Best person for this one.  No, Sanders is awake he reported.  I'm going to have him moved down to room with Hodges so Xander doesn't have to go that far to fuss.  Also, he said kick the Fire Marshal out.  He said it's evident what happened, he can write the report from his truck by now.  Thanks.  Yeah, of course.  No, he and his dog are here.  No, not sniffing that I know of.  A little miniature something he found at the pound.  Named it after Sidle, said it reminded him of her.  Sure.  Thanks, sir.  First thing tomorrow.  Sure thing."  He hung up.  "Xander, you'll have the footage from the hallways as soon as they can get the tapes back from the Feds.  Overhead photos are coming and so are blueprints."

"I'll be in here or with Greg."

"Sure."  He looked at the dog as it came out, letting her sniff his hand.  "Hi, Sarah.  How are you."  He patted her on the head.  "You seem very nice and like you love Xander.  He needs that."  He looked at the sleeping person on the couch.  "Go nap with him, okay?  He needs it too."  She walked over and jumped up on Warrick's side, sniffing him a few times before laying on his head.  Warrick pushed at her so she licked his hand, then stretched out on his side instead.  He didn't move and slept on.  "Where's Nick?" Brass asked.

"Home with his mother.  She took him home for his six weeks of recovery," Sarah told him.  "Why me and not Cat, Grissom, or Warrick?"

"They were in the building that day, you weren't.  You're more objective, plus you're not a supervisor.  You're as picky as he is and just as meticulous in your reports.  You go in tomorrow, once he's had a chance to look at things so he can pinpoint where you need to look in all that mess."

"Okay.  Sure. We can do that.  Has he been in the field?"

Xander came to the door.  "We're down to two field techs a shift and I'm the only trace or ballistics person, Sarah.  A detective went off the deep end when evidence uprooted his theory and he shot our trace tech and one of the field techs on the other shift, plus the other shift's tech is going to Germany to teach over there with the other ballistics tech.  I do a lot more field work than I probably should.  We'll figure out methodology of working together after I see the photos and the site.  There could be safety concerns and we could need gear."

"Sure.  You know more about the construction stuff.  I'll let you lead there and you let me lead collecting while you process and piece together."

"Fine with me.  Not an issue."  His dog let out a quiet yip.  "No, Sarah, you sleep there on Warrick.  He needs the lovies more than Ray did last week.  You cuddle him.  Where's Nick?"

"Home, at his mother's.  She came in and walked out with him after yelling at Grissom and the doctors."

"It happens," he said dryly.  "We're all in danger every day of our lives.  Even being CSI we're still in danger."  He looked over as the nurse came storming back. "Hi.  Need Hodges?"

"No, but you cannot have that dog in here."

"Lady, my dog's staying, and if you don't like it, the window opens so you can jump," he said firmly.  "Beside the fact that you're not a nurse."  She looked stunned.  "I remember you.  I also remember that you're his former neighbor.  Cap, she's not a nurse.  She's that swinger bitch who was hunting him when I left."

"Thanks.  I wondered where I saw her before."  He grabbed her before she could move.  "Come on, let's go."  He walked her down the hall to an empty room and handcuffed her to a bedrail, calling it in.  Then he went to find a real nurse and have a word with her.  He also went up to check on Greg, finding Grissom staring down at him.  "He okay?  We just got Hodges' old stalker down there.  Xander spotted her."

"He does know about those things," Greg said weakly.  "Gris, I love you like my dad, but can you please quit petting me?" he asked weakly.  "Xander did that too.  The nurse thought we were dating."

"You probably could have," Grissom admitted, stopping his petting.  "I'm sorry, Greg."

"Not your fault, bossman."  He looked at his mother. "Was it?"  She glared back. "Mom."

"Fine, it wasn't directly his fault, but you're still in danger.  I think somewhere like LA would be safer."

"Mother, quit," he ordered. She snorted.  He looked up at Grissom. "Xander ordered me to stay with him while I healed."

"He told Hodges the same thing," Brass promised. "We knew you guys might as well be a trio anyway," he teased.  Greg blushed at that.  "You need anything?"

"Less fussing."

"You'll learn to like it, Greg, the same as Xander did," Grissom assured him.  "You've been hurt one too many times and we hate that."  Greg nodded, looking up at him.  "There's not going to be lab for at least six months.  Even if we switch buildings, we'll have to get all new equipment and things.  That'll take at least five.  You'll have paid leave time and if you want you can work with Xander for a few months once you're well.  You and Hodges both.  I know they need you guys."

"Xander just said he's been doing a lot of field work," Brass admitted.  "Something about a detective who blew his stack over the evidence contradicting him.  He apparently shot some and they lost more to that new school in Germany."

"I got offered but I'd be teaching DNA," Greg admitted with a yawn.  "I need a nap."

"You do, but can you wait until they move you down to the ward we've taken over?" Brass asked.  Greg shook his head.  "Then sleep, kid.  Xander will be there when you wake up."  He grinned at that and patted Grissom's hand, putting it back in his hair before falling asleep.

"His Grandfather did the same thing," his mother sighed.  "Fussed and fussed and fussed until it was time to rest while he was injured.  Then he wanted to be fussed over."  She looked at Brass.  "I noticed Xander looked more fragile than when we were introduced."

"He's tired, that's probably all it is.  They've gotten a bit behind and there's only three CSI units in Chicago.  He said he's been doing a lot of field work."

"He did ninety hours last week," Greg said tiredly.  "They have two field techs, no trace people and only him on ballistics.  He's tired."

"I'd be exhausted too," Brass agreed.

"You can help him while we rebuild," Grissom promised.  Greg nodded, leaning into his hand so he went back to his petting.  "Wait until you see his dog."

"I saw pictures when he got her."

Brass snickered.  "Sarah's still giving it funny looks.  Poor thing, abused by the former owner and now living with Xander's insanity."

"She steals food with the wolf," Greg said sleepily, yawning a bit.  "Night."

"Night, kid."  He looked at Grissom.  "We're getting him pictures.  The sheriff said Sidle and Xander are working the case."

"That's fine.  I'll help wherever I can."

"Good.  I'm heading back down there.  Come down with him."  He headed back downstairs, being stopped by the nurse and being handed the dog.  "He'll fight you."

"I know, but she came out to steal food.  What's with that tumor?"

"Xander said her former owner was putting balls on her.  Apparently she's a transgendered dog.  He said the shelter he found her at didn't remove them and it's been too long so Sarah here is just like that now.  But yeah, she and the precinct's wolf like to steal food together.  From what I hear, they're very good at it."  Sarah barked and wagged her tail.  "I know.  They put in locking drawers and things and she figured out how to get food out of them and pass it back to the wolf, who shares his haul with her.  He gives her rides around and things too."

"That's fine, we'll keep that in mind when we see her.  Will she steal medicine?"

"Only if it's sugary or meat flavored.  That's what the wolf likes."

"I'll hide my cookies then."  She patted the dog on the head.  "You behave and don't growl at the nurses.  If you behave, you can stay."  The dog barked and licked her fingers, then allowed herself to be carried into the room to nap with her daddy's friend.  She liked this one, he smelled good.  She gave a slight woof since he was asleep and curled up on his stomach, looking at her daddy.  He reached down to pet her, making her one happy dog, even though he was looking at those things she couldn't see.

"That...looks dirty, Xander," Brass noted.

Xander looked at his dog, then at him.  "Not my fault she wanted to nap there. She likes warm spots.  Loves Ray's chest and Stan's hair."  He went back to petting and reading.  This was why she came to work with him. She helped him get ideas.

***

Greg had fussed the whole flight back and Hodges was sleeping, so Greg went up to go sleep on the new bed while Xander woke up Hodges and helped him up the stairs with the dog and their bags.  Greg ran into a taut back and paused, looking him over.  "Move, Mountie statue person."  The Mountie looked startled but moved and Greg headed for the couch, laying down and falling back asleep.  He still ached.

Xander grinned at Turnbull.  "Hi.  Guarding my apartment as a Canadian treasure now?"

"I would if you'd ask us to make you a citizen. We could use you."  He picked Hodges up and carried him back to the master bedroom, letting him lay on that bed.  "Hello, Sarah," he said, giving her a gentle pet.  She licked his fingers before laying down on Hodges' stomach and getting comfortable.  "That's fine, you guard him.  We'll be in the living room."  He walked out, going to lift the other one up and carry him to the other bed.  Xander came back with the bags and he helped with that, then smiled at him.  "Detective Vecchio wanted a call.  He said that short one you gave him three weeks ago only made him worry more.  Detective Kowalski is dead asleep behind the wheel of his car at the station and no one can get him out without him reaching for his gun, not even his ex-wife or Constable Fraser. Lieutenant Welsh said that he wanted a call when you returned about when he can expect you back at work, though he did understand that this came first.  Also, Inspector Thatcher wanted to know if you knew how to cure root rot on her potted plants."

"I don't know much about plants, but you could ask Greg.  He's got some friends who do herbal stuff and he might know."

"I shall when he wakes.  Thank you, Xander."

"You're welcome.  Let me pop over there.  Can you watch things here or are you expected back?"

"I am but she did say I could give you an extra hour to run errands, like to pharmacies and things."

"Sure.  Thanks, Turnbull."  He kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his keys, running out.

"Get dog food, you're out."

"Yup, sure will."  He hopped into his car, heading for the pharmacy he used when he needed things, dropping off he prescriptions. The tech there gave him an odd look.  "They're my friends and fellow CSI from Vegas.  They were both injured in the bombing."  That got a sympathetic nod.  "Put it on my card and send it there?  Turnbull's there."

"Of course, Mr. Harris.  Are you back?"

"More or less. Why?  Am I due for a refill?"

"I pulled up your file when I saw you and it does say you're due for another set of allergy medicine and that antibiotic should be gone so you're supposed to call to get a refill."

"Thanks. I'll do that tomorrow.  Send a note with the drugs to my place?"  She smiled and nodded.  "Thanks, dear."  He headed back to his car, going to the station.  He saw the guard in front of Stan's car, waving him back.  He walked over and slowly opened the door, making Stan mumble and reach for his gun.  "Stan," he whispered plaintively.  "It's Xander, can you come out and play with me?"

"Sleep now, play later, Xander.  Play real good."

Xander beamed.  "I know we will.  We'll play scrabble with made up words."  That got a grin.  "But you're in your car and you're scaring people.  Can you quit being such a scary guy and let the nice officer drive you home?"  Stan frowned and muttered.  "I promise," he vowed.  "Right home and right to bed.  He can even pick up Dief so you have the furry blanket."  That got a grin.  "Good boy.  Now, I'm going to take your gun, that way you don't hurt your car."  He slowly inched it out, then tucked it into his back waistband.  "There you go.  Now, scoot over, let the officer in so he can drive."  He helped Stanley move and nodded at the officer.  "Know where he lives?"  He nodded quickly.  "Good.  Get Diefenbaker and take him home."

"Wolf!" the cop yelled.  "We're taking him home."  He ran out and gave Xander's hand a lick before climbing in to sit in Stan's lap.  "Thank you, sir."

"I'll give his gun to his Lieutenant.  Be careful, Stan bites sometimes."  He walked off, heading up the stairs and into the office.  "I'm back, but I'm not sure how long it'll be before I'm *back*," he offered, leaning in the door.  "They're both still needing some care.  I'm thinking a week at most, maybe two days at best, but I'm still going to have to cut back my hours."

"We need you to anyway.  We've had you on unpaid leave for the last two weeks to make up for all the overtime you've been doing.  How are you managing?"

"I sleep now and then.  The good news is, they can sub in until their lab is rebuilt in about five more months.  That'll give us time to hire.  Greg is a field tech now, did DNA before, and Hodges does Trace.  That'll free me back to ballistics and part-time trace and part- time field, which'll also cut down on my hours and then you'll be okay."

"Good.  I like that plan.  A week?"

"Probably.  Greg'll need a few more days of sleep to heal enough to stand up for more than ten minutes.  Hodges needs his stitches pulled in about ten days but he's mobile, just cranky.  I sent Stan home, here's his gun," he offered, handing it over properly.  "I didn't check for a backup.  I sent Dief home with him and an officer driving him."

"That's fine.  Thank you.  We haven't gotten him up in nearly a day."

"I promised to play more made up word Scrabble with him," he said happily.  "Ray?"

"Out."

"Fine.  Tell him I'm fine.  I'm heading home.  Case solved.  Person begging for mercy because I lost my temper while we were interrogating her.  Scared her lawyer too.  He protested to the judge she pled with.  Judge said she deserved it for that loss of life and property.  Since she's rich she's also helping rebuild the station.  I may get to go back for a few days once they get to, just to look the old place over, make sure it's okay, that stuff."

"Fine. If you have any leave time left."

"You can call it Family Leave," he offered.  "They're as close as I'm getting beyond my dog."

"I'll see if I can.  The Chief may not go for it."

"If he's still scared of me, then I'm sorry for him, and if he's mad at Sarah for having a piss in his roses on his desk, then yay.  She's a dog, he wouldn't let us take a five minute break.  He knew she was in there with me, he had us snatched off the street during her walk."  He shrugged and waved.  "Laters.  I'm headed home.  There's a pharmacy delivery coming."  He turned and ran into Ray.  "Hi.  I'm back, but not working for probably another week.  She's crying and pleading.  She begged for mercy but pled.  I scared her and her lawyer, and he complained but the judge said he deserved it."  He gave the stiff man a hug.  "Fine, you're upset.  I'm sorry I didn't call," he sighed.  "I thought about it but it was always in the middle of the night and I didn't want to wake anyone."

"So instead you worry us?" he demanded. "Ma was worried sick."

Xander looked at him.  "It was me and one other CSI working, Ray."  He shook his head and moaned.  "So, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to worry you.  I promise I didn't. You can come over tonight but they're both grumpy, fair warning."  He gave him another hug and bounded down to his car and back to his place with a quick stop at the store to pick up stuff to drink and stuff to nibble on.  Even if Ma didn't send food, he'd order take out. The good thing about working eighteen hours a day was the overtime.  He was ahead on his rent by nearly a year. He ran back up the steps, grinning at Benny when he saw him outside his door.  "Dief went with Stan to be his furry blanket.  Ray's back in the station.  I'm back, kinda, and you can come in but they're grumpy."  He walked in and grinned at Turnbull, heading for the kitchen with the bags.  "Okay, I'm back," he sighed, leaning on the counter.  "Drugs get here?"  He nodded.  "You told Thatcher that?"  He nodded again, grinning at him.  "Good.  All momentary problems solved."  He looked over as Maria, Ray's older sister, came out of the back bedroom.  "Did Ray send you?"

"Hell yes. You never have any food in the house and these poor men need fussing over better than you can do with your schedule."

"I'll be cutting back," he promised.

"So?"  She stared him down.  "Only women can fuss properly.  So until you become a woman, you won't fuss enough."

"Ray fusses very well," Xander protested.

"That's because you worked yourself sick and got pneumonia.  Ma couldn't come near you. Sit down, rest, and get better, Xander.  You dying from overwork means that Ray'll quit smiling again."  She pinched his cheek.  "Next time, call!  We don't care if it's four in the morning.  We're used to Ray's phone going off then."  She walked him over to a chair and forced him to sit down then put his feet up for him.  "There."  She went to look in the kitchen, sighing and shaking her head as she found some paper and a pen.  "You're hopeless, Xander.  At least you bought milk and bottled water."

"You had pneumonia?" Hodges asked from his new spot on the couch.  "When?"

"Last month.  Middle of last month," he sighed.  "Right after the shooting."

"Ah.  No wonder you didn't call."  He looked him over.  "You've lost weight.  I didn't want to say anything.  Captain Brass and Grissom both noticed and told me to nag Ray to feed you more."

"We have been, he's been working eighteen hours days," Maria called.  "Isn't that right, Turnbull?"

"Usually I see him after sixteen hour ones, ma'am," he said respectfully.  "Then he asks me to come to lunch with him so he doesn't fall asleep behind the wheel on the way home."

"That's not why I take you to lunch. You let me ramble on," Xander defended.

"Usually because you're too tired," Hodges agreed.  "You did that with me too.  Not that we minded," he offered with a grin.  "I can start in the next few days."

"Bullshit."

"I can, the doctor said so.  I just have to take it easy and no lifting or bending."

"Trace is set up pretty nicely," Xander offered.  "There's a sliding door between the two labs so I can pop over and help.  I've mostly been keeping it open unless I'm doing a test fire."

"That's because you work too hard," Greg said as he came out.  Xander hopped up but he shoved him back down.  "You've done more than I have recently.  There's a free chair.  How are we doing beds?"

"I can take the couch," Xander assured him. "It's very comfy and I sleep there most nights anyway."

"I thought the bed looked a bit too neat to belong to you," Hodges said dryly.  "By the way.  Dog!"  Sarah came trotting out with something stuffed. "I don't know what that is but she looks quite smug.  I can't call her by Sarah's name, the last time I did they both came in while I was naked."

Xander took the stuffed thing to look at it, then at his dog.  "Sure, you can play with the sock puppet of love."  He tossed it and she scrambled after it, bringing it back. He grinned.  "You need to play, don't you?"  He tossed it again and she ran after it, bringing it back.  "Good girl."  He patted her on the head and did it again.  "We do this in the lab sometimes while I'm thinking.  She loves my blue marker set."

"You bring your dog into the lab?"

"Into the main areas.  Not into trace or ballistics.  Though she does like to hide under the mass spec in DNA.  The tech in there has her dog under there too so they curl up."  He grabbed the sock puppet and tossed it for her, earning a bark because it hit Turnbull, who was her alternate walking buddy.  He tossed it and she caught it mid-air, bringing it back to the daddy, wagging her tail and seeming to grin.  "I love you too, princess," he offered, picking her up to kiss and hug her.  She gave him a lick so he put her down and tossed the sock puppet back into the hall for her, watching her run after it.   She brought it back and Maria came out to grab the dog and put her leash on her.  "Hey!  I was playing with her."

"She's going to come play with the kids.  Wanna go see Ma, Sarah?"  She barked and licked her ardently, loving her for that.  She loved to play with the kids at the house.  "Okay, we'll go there.  Turnbull, go ahead back to the consulate if you need to.  Benny's still outside."  He nodded, going to do that. "You three, do not move.  I'll be back in an hour with food."

"Yes, ma'am," Hodges agreed, watching as she left.  "Wow.  Who's she?"

"Ray's older sister.  Four kids, a husband, and she still treats me like I'm ten."

"You are ten; somewhere in your head is a little ten-year-old guy waiting to come out and play pranks," Greg said dryly, putting his feet up.  "Pneumonia?"  Xander sighed and nodded.  "How bad is your department?"

"We had a detective who had a theory blown by us so he came down and shot those responsible.  We lost two more to Germany and then had to rebalance the shifts.  I'm the only trace and the only ballistics person we have.  We won't be hiring for a few more weeks at least.  Field positions first."

"So you're doing three jobs," Hodges said dryly.  Xander nodded.  "Why didn't you call?"

"Nothing you could do about it.  I did write Grissom and asked him to spread the news that we are actively hiring immediately."

"He did announce you guys were looking for field techs," Greg admitted.  "He told us to write our friends to tell the others.  That we could send them to your email address."

"I got two from Nick and one from Warrick.  That one's an intern for DNA.  He's already been hired.  One of Nick's decided he didn't like the benefits package so he backed out and the other one's up before the hiring committee.  My shift gets him first."

"Which shift is that?" Hodges asked.

"Days.  All single techs got moved to days."  He grimaced and stretched, then winced.  "Ow.  Sorry.  Slept funny on the plane.  The detectives are just as bad with that one missing.  Stan was asleep in his car and hadn't been woken up in a day because he kept reaching for his gun.  The city just enacted an older mandatory retirement clause.  They lost a tenth of their police force and techs."  They both moaned.  "Yeah, so we're hiring actively.  We'll even have snow soon.  They got a last minute reprieve for any higher people, like supervisors and Mort since he runs our lab.  They've got another two years to put someone in their places.  We've got one coming in from Vermont, we've got two recent graduates coming in, and then the biggest graduating class at the academy in the last fifty years coming out.  Those three techs may or may not stay.  They're temping too.  I'm hoping the one from Vermont can teach me how to drive on snow soon."

Hodges and Greg shared a look.  "We'll be in when you go back," they assured him in unison.

"You don't have to. You could just rest and recuperate," he offered.  "That way I have someone to talk to all the time."

"I'll be looking over your kid's shoulder for a few weeks," Greg reminded him.  "I'm in no shape to go into the field."

Hodges nodded.  "Me too.  I'll be in the lab all day with you in the next one."

Xander sniffled.  "I love you guys."

"We love you too but if you hug us again, we'll have to pop you one," Greg said firmly, making Xander laugh. "I haven't been hugged that much since my first incident in the lab at high school."

"It's those girls and where they warped him," Hodges reminded him.  "The same as he probably still thinks football is about gay sex."

"It looks like it is," he defended.

"Maybe we can get Nick to come up and see if he wants to slowly take over this lab," Greg offered.

"We can't," Xander told him.  "I promised him he'd never run a lab where he had to be over me.  But please, don't ask Sarah to come take over.  She'd be this ruling block of power.  The same as Hodges would be for the first week."

"At least you think I'd change," Hodges offered.  "By the way, the new intern said she was told not to suck up to me, just to be herself because I'd hate her anyway.  Bobby told her so.  She's not too bad but she's a really girly girl at times.  Wanted me to cry on her shoulder a few weeks back and things."

"They can be like that," Greg reminded him. "If you dated more, you'd see that."

"Guys, no arguing over dating.  We don't want to bring up my dating record, right?"  They both shook their heads.  "Then we'll be fine."  Someone pounded on the door so he got up with a moan of protest to answer it. "Hey, Ray."  He got out of his way since he was carrying stuff.  "Maria made you come?"

"Ma made me come.  She's coming later."  He looked at the other two guys.  "Hey.  You okay now?"

"More or less," Hodges offered.  "I've still got some staples."

"I'm just sore and achy," Greg told him.  "Poor Mia's still in the hospital.  I went in to talk to her about when I was burned and she said it didn't help any."

"She was always being compared to you," Xander reminded him.  "Even Ecklie did it a few times, though he complimented her on better music tastes."

"It's been over a year.  They need to get over it," Greg said firmly. "I'm never going to be a full time DNA tech again if I can help it."  He looked back at Ray.  "Though I will let you talk me into temping in there until I'm fit to do field work."

"Really?  You'd let me talk you into sparing Xander?  That way he could learn what the inside of his apartment looked like and remember the fact that his dog hates chicken?"

"I saw my dog more than I saw you," Xander said dryly.  "She came to the lab with me and it's Mort who feeds her chicken and gives her gas."

"When was the last time you slept in your bed, kid?" Ray demanded.

"In any bed? Back in Vegas about two days ago."

"I said your bed, Xander," he said firmly.

"While I was coughing up solid crap for two weeks.  It's not my fault we're backed up.  They could have made it a gradual removal but they didn't.  You and Stan have been just as busy as me so don't you stand there and preach."

"I'm not trying to, Xander, just trying to get you to look out for yourself.  You take care of us, have the Mounties take care of us, and then keep going on your own."

"I'm younger than you are," he defended.  "I have tons more energy and the ability to keep going now and then.  It's not like I'm making mistakes and when I do, I take a nap."

"When was the last time he got a full day's sleep?" Greg asked.

"We're not sure he ever did," Ray told them.

"We'll watch out for him, Ray," Hodges said patiently.  "We did it back in Vegas when things happened, we'll be coming in to help him here so he can sleep and eat and all that good stuff again too."

"We'll even pay you something," he promised.  "Even if it's just for four months."  They nodded.  "How long before you get rebuilt?"

"Five at the minimum.  That's to get the machines and possibly move us into a new building temporarily," Greg told him.

"Thank you, God.  Let me call Mort, see where he wants you guys."

"I'll be in the field within a month," Greg offered.

"Greg, to be honest, field people we've got.  The intern we got filed a complaint about her hours and the new one can't start for another four months."

"Sure, I can go back for a few months but I want to keep up my field training."

"Sure.  I'll bring you with me if I have to."  He called the station.  "Put me through to Mort.  I don't care if he's armpit deep in a dead body.  Now."  He paused.  "Mort, Ray.  Yeah, they said they could.  They won't be rebuilt for five months at the earliest.  They're willing to help.  Greg said he could go back into the DNA lab but he wants to do some field work to keep his training going.  When and where do you want them?"

"Give us a week," Hodges said gently. "We're still sore."

"They asked for a week, that okay?"  He grinned at them and nodded. "Thanks, Mort."  He hung up.  "One week from now, all three of you are to reappear for night shift.  That's from six until midnight, maybe one on some rare Fridays or Saturdays.  That good?"

"That's fine with us," Hodges agreed.  "We're used to pulling ten hours."

Ray snorted.  "We wouldn't do that to our people.  Local rules, eight hours max in the lab unless it's an emergency."

"So that's why Xander went into the field so often," Greg said.

Xander nodded.  "I was needed.  I did my eight hours, cleared as much as I could, then headed out to help the others.  It was the only way we were keeping marginally in control of the situation.  Who did she complain to?"

"The Chief.  Filed a written complaint. He called Mort, who gave him the honest truth, which made him scowl.  This'll ease that.  He's calling him to say that it's getting a bit better by the end of this week.  He announced that and everyone cheered. Now, food."  He turned to start unloading the bags he had been carrying.  "Plates, Xander?"

"Probably still in the dishwasher," he admitted. "It's not like I've been eating here."

"You've been sleeping at the station?" Greg suggested.

"At least three days a week we all do," Ray agreed.  "That stupid rule screwed up way too many things.  They should have done it gradually.  Started off with the thirty year people and over guys this year, the twenty-five through nine next year, and on down.  Now you can only be 64 and under to work in the city."

"I feel like I am," Xander admitted, yawning a bit.  Ray gave him a look.  "I'm fine.  I'll nap in a while on the couch."

"There's only two beds, how are we handling that?" Greg asked Hodges.

"It's unfair to make him sleep out here."

"It's a good napping spot, guys, I promise.  It's very comfortable."

"It's got a loose spring," Hodges complained, shifting some.

"Reach down and push on that spot, it'll pop back in place.  You just bounced too hard," Xander told him. "There's a new one coming next week."

"Thankfully," Ray agreed.  "It is comfortable.  I've spent a few nights on it recently. It's closer than home for me or Stan.  Stan's gun?"

"Welsh."  He accepted his plate with some drool.  "Wow.  You cooked with Ma?"

"Yeah, I started, she had to go to the store."  He handed over the other plates.  "Wonder boy there has milk, soda, water, and coffee."

"Milk please," Hodges requested as he sat up to eat.

"That's fine for me too," Greg agreed.  He took a bite and moaned.  "This is good. I've got to get a recipe."

"I'll write 'em all down for you before you go home, Greg.  Xander?"  He looked over, watching him devour the food. "Xander, nod, soda?"  He got a quick nod and carried out the container to let him dish out some more.  "Eat. You've lost fifty pounds since we got you."  He went back to make himself a small plate and bring Xander a soda, coming out to take up the free end of the couch.  "It's been a rough time but we are turning it around," he offered quietly.  "We have the lab reset up.  We were doing good until that detective went off."

"Mort's got to find a successor," Xander pointed out.  "He's under the supervisor's clause."  He looked at his friends.  "I have third highest seniority in the lab," he said proudly.  "You'll have to let me know when Bobby's wedding is."

Hodges looked at him. "Who is he marrying?"

"He was really coddling his intern and she was cooing over him," Xander told him.  "He was lapping it up like Sarah does beer.  My Sarah, not yours."

"Never bring that dog to a barbeque," Ray advised.  "She will steal your beer, your seat, and your plate. That's how she and Diefenbaker got together.  He tried to steal the ribs she'd stolen off my plate."

"Now she rides on his back to give him access to higher foods," Xander agreed dryly.  "They're very cute together.  He even licks her incision now and then."

"Eww," Greg noted.

"Sorry.  I'm working under an ME, we get meals like that."  He dug in again, finishing up that plate.  Then he opened his soda and drank it more slowly.  "Ah," he sighed, grinning at Ray. "You cook great."

"One of these days, you'll have the time to learn," he quipped.  "That way Ma won't worry about you."

"If she didn't worry about you or me, then she'd be bored all day and get sick and die sooner," Xander defended.

"Probably true," Ray agreed, giving him a small smile.  "At least you're trying reasoning, it shows that you got some sleep."

"He was working with Sarah Sidle out there," Greg told him before eating another bite.

"They were probably working about the same hours as he is here," Hodges finished.

"That'll stop or Welsh said he can't have overtime.  By the way, the Chief said you could have a week when they went back to escort them back, look around, make sure everything was okay, but that you couldn't count them under Family Leave time.  The Feds wrote that one too tightly.  Only immediate family, like brothers or spouses."

"So if he claims we're together, that'll work?" Hodges asked sarcastically.

"The Chief offered Welsh that but Welsh had to admit he wasn't sure if you three were together in some way.  If so, he said no groping in the labs where anyone can catch you."

"They made the married couple go on separate shifts when they were caught in the morgue's storage room.  She got switched back about two weeks later."

"I thought our lab was like a soap opera," Hodges said in amazement.  "What's going on now?"

"Well, the married couple are fighting because they don't get to have sex anymore because of the hours.  Apparently it's straining their relationship too much.  Mort's wife said either he starts coming home every night or she's going to come kill the rest of us so he won't have to worry about it.  She did see me and ask him if I was his forgotten love child, but he only laughed and claimed I was the younger brother he needed so he would have turned out normal.  He can't cook either."  He took another sip of his soda and took a long blink as well.  "Then, um, Harrison, upstairs, squad sergeant for midnights, is dating the remaining field tech."  He had another long blink. He felt someone take the soda from his hands and swatted at them.

"Let's put you on the couch," Ray offered in his ear.  "That way you can finally rest.  I'll wait on Ma and tell them the rest of the gossip."  Xander nodded, letting himself be moved. "Good boy, Xander.  Ma would be proud of you."  He got a grin and put Xander on the end he was sitting on, letting Hodges move him however so they were both comfortable.  Hodges was getting ready to nap too.  He and Greg watched as Hodges slid down and Xander immediately cuddled up to him, even flipping over to hold him.  "Ah," he said happily.

"There were a lot of rumors about them getting together back in Vegas," Greg said quietly.  "They usually did things to make fun of them."  He looked at Ray.  "I'm not sure he'll stay if he's asked."

"I don't know either."  He shrugged.  "Xander will recover."

"No he won't."  Greg stood up with a wince.  "Remember his past, he won't recover.  I'm going to take a shower and hit the spare bed.  Don't worry about waking them.  They'll sleep through nearly anything.  His pain meds are good at that and Xander's exhausted.  We'll try to make him rest with us."  He headed back to the bathroom.  "Night, Ray."

"Night, Greg."  He watched them cuddle, keeping watch until his mother came up the stairs.  He'd listened to her walk too many times in their own house to not recognize that tread, and the one behind her must be Benny.  He got up and opened the door, nodding behind him at the sleeping couple.  "Greg just slid into his."

"That's fine, Caro," Ma said, smiling at the sleeping couple.  She went into the kitchen to fill the cabinets with food and the refrigerator with cooked food.  All three of those poor babies needed it and so did her family.    She looked over the kitchen and sighed, shaking her head.  "Raymondo, he has no plates."

"He has plates, Ma, they were just using them."  He gathered up the dirty dishes and came in to load them into the dishwasher for her.  "See, plenty of plates and cups.  I made sure Xander bought real plates and cups when I found him eating off paper plates and drinking out of plastic cups."  She smiled and pinched his cheek.  "Thanks, Ma.  Anything else you see?"

"The water smells funny here."

"We know.  He's got some bottled water for cooking and drinking, Ma."

"Good.  That's smart of him."  She cleaned up the kitchen then went to check on them, covering the boys on the couch with a sheet from the main bedroom.  They were adorable together.

***

Hodges looked around the setup in his lab.  "This is nice," he admitted respectfully.  It was great.  Everything was arranged logically and easily within reach.  The table was nice and large, but also was a light table on one side if he needed it.  The lab was stocked with everything he could need.  He turned when he heard a door slide open.  "Already done?"

"No.  I've got sixteen guns to match tonight," he admitted dryly.  "At least someone did test fires and taped the bullets to the tags on the guns.  You?"

"Looks like four bagged things and a few boxes."  He looked at him.  "Need help?"

"No, I'm good for this," he admitted.  "You sure you're okay to start working."

Hodges pulled down his head and kissed him on top of it.  "Go work, Xander.  Pout later."  He nodded, going back to work.  Hodges closed the door so they wouldn't get any contamination between the labs and settled in to look at his first item.  Pretty standard, find the stuff on it and analyze it.  He could do this stuff in his sleep.

Greg stuck his head in a few minutes later.  "You should see the DNA lab.  I never had it so good.  Everything's fixed, brand new, working, even the phone works right.  It also plays CD's."

"I noticed that ours did too," he agreed.  He heard Xander's start up.  "Comedy.  That's a good sign. Did you forget anything?"

"Of course not.  I've filled in when Mia was out."  He smirked at him.  "The day shift girl hugged me. Got down on her knees and hugged my knees, crying."  He went back across the hall to get to work.  It was good to start simply again.  He was still a bit sore but he could sit down and run things his way and it was nice.  If he didn't want to go back in the field, he wanted this lab at home.  He decided he'd borrow Xander's new video camera to tape this lab and send it back to Grissom with the note saying he wanted this for the new DNA lab. Plus, Mort liked to listen to him ramble and present findings so far.  He had smiled and told it was a good job and that it was concise and to the point.  That he had style and they liked that around there.  If he ever wanted to be a DNA tech again, he'd want to stay here.  Then again, he liked being a field tech.  He liked it a lot.  It was his dream.  And he'd get to go back to it in a few weeks once they caught up.  Mort had promised him at least three days a week in the field. The fourth he could clear up any backlog and work with Xander or Hodges if he wanted.  He looked down as Sarah came in and crawled underneath a machine, grinning at her.  "Tired, baby?"  She gave a weak bark and snuggled in to get comfortable on the bed down there. "You rest.  I know how that is. I was there recently."  He started on his second sample, working on getting it ready for processing.  He heard a swear.  "What happened, Xander?" he called.

"Tripped."

"How did you trip?" Hodges asked, going over to check on him.  He found him on the floor and made him look up at him.  "You look like hell.  What happened?"  Xander shrugged.  "Did you black out?"  Another shrug.  "Xander," he said firmly.  Another shrug.  "Fine.  Mort?  Xander tripped, I think he blacked out again."

"That's the third one this month, Xander.  Didn't I tell you to see someone about that?"

"I'm fine. He said to cut down on my hours and take nap."

Mort came in to look him over, frowning a bit.  "Greg, come run some bloodwork for me please?"

"Sure, Mort."  He brought in a few vials and a needle.  "You want me to stick him?"

"No, I can.  I do keep in practice.  I do a few nights in the local ER's every month."  He gently withdrew the blood and wrote on them what he wanted done, giving them back to the Greg.  "They should already be standard on the computer."

"Sure, Mort."  He went back to run those for him, gathering the results as they came out.  They were Greek to him but Mort frowned at Xander, who curled up in a small ball.  "Is he sick again?"

"Still is more correct I believe."  He picked up the phone and called upstairs.  "Detective, this is Mort.  No, he's blacking out again. I did some blood work and it appears he's still a bit sick.  Yes, classic infection.  Does he have a fever, Hodges?"  He checked, then nodded, swatting Xander on the back of the head.  "He'll be fine.  It's just the end of the pneumonia I believe.  Can you come take him to your mother's?"

"I'm fine," Xander protested, standing up.  He blacked out again and woke up on the floor looking up at the detective and the coroner.  "I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Ray snorted.  "Come on, Xander."

"I'm fine and I've got a backlog."

"When you get back from the ER, you can handle it," Ray assured him.  "Now, let's go or it's an ambulance ride again."  Xander groaned and let himself be helped up.  "He'll be back soon."  He walked the boy out, forcing him out to the car and inside so he could take him to the ER.  "You can't be this stubborn," he said as they drove off.  "You getting sicker means that Hodges has to take care of you, not the other way around."

"That's why I'm ignoring it."

"Ignoring it doesn't make it better, kid, it makes it worse.  Now, settle in and let's do this as fast as we can.  Then you may be able to go back tonight.  If not, it'll keep for tomorrow."

"Some of those cases needed to be done tonight."

"You're all the excuse Stella needs, Xander.  I called her before I came down and she's going to tell the judge you've worked yourself sick.  That means that it's a legitimate way to kill time.  Even if the judge does call you down to yell at you for it, again, you can point out that you've worked more hours than he has this year since the last time he called you down to yell at you for passing out at work."

"Maybe," he complained, sighing as they pulled into the ER.  "Must I?  It'll take forever."

"It won't."  He parked and got out, going around to pull Xander out and inside, pointing him at the registration desk.  "He's blacking out.  He just had pneumonia a few months back.  He's working himself sick again."

"Name?"

"Harris.  Xander Harris," Xander sighed.  "You saw me the last time too."

"I see your file right here," she promised with a small smile.  "Have a seat.  When was his last blackout?"

"Right before I put him in the car," Ray told her.  "A good, solid five minutes of him being gone.  They're still working him like a dog.  He had the week off and I made him eat and sleep but I don't think it's helping any.  Oh, Mort said he ran some tests," he offered, handing over the forms.  "He ran them on the lab's machines after his first one tonight.  We came after his second."

"Are you sure he doesn't have seizures?"

"I never have."

"Hmm."  She looked at them.  "I'll let the nurse see these when she calls you back.  Here, let me do the usual checks before we put you in a chair to wait on a room."  She took his blood pressure, looking at the number, then at Xander.  Then she took his temperature.  Then she called an orderly to come bring him back.  "Mr. Harris needs a room immediately.  Here's some bloodwork he had done at work.  He's blacking out, the detective may sit with him," she said.  "Use Trauma two since it appears to be empty."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, walking the young man back.  The doctor filling out paperwork in there gave them an odd look.  "The receptionist said so, sir.  Said he's blacking out and he had some bloodwork done earlier."

The doctor took the forms while Vecchio forced Xander onto the bed.  He looked at Xander.  "I remember you.  You had exhaustion and pneumonia, right?"  Xander sighed and nodded.  "What was his temperature?"  Vecchio shrugged and Xander only groaned, holding his head.  He went to the doorway and found a nurse walking his way with the file.  "Harris?"  She nodded.  "Full file?"  She nodded again, handing it over. "Thank you."  He walked back in to review it, then looked at the young man on the bed.  "You work how many hours a week?"

"He's just had a week off and we're slowly fixing the problem," Vecchio offered.  "He's back to working a single shift a day now, which is supposed to be eight.  He's also back to only doing one or two jobs, like he's supposed to."

"I see.  The smoke inhalation was when?"

"I had a bombing case in Vegas starting a month ago," Xander said quietly, looking at him.  "I wore a mask."

"Yes, but you still got chemical inhalation, young man."  He looked him over, checking everything and listening to his lungs.  "Antibiotics?"

"I'm still on them.  My boss refilled them the day I got back."

"Your boss is who?"

"The local ME," Vecchio noted.  "He's a ballistics tech."

"I know Mort.  Has he rested and eaten recently?"

"He had the last week off," Ray swore.  "I made sure he ate and rested with the guys from Vegas he was helping rest and heal.  I got him to do all that stuff you wanted him to do last time."

"Well," he said, shaking his head.  "It's helped some but not enough.  Though, the machine needs calibrated.  It says he's pregnant."  He handed that sheet over.  "Show that to Mort."  He looked at Xander.  "When was the last time he ate?"

"Two hours ago.  I had a chicken sandwich," Xander offered.

"You had fast food after Ma's been cooking for you for the last week?" Ray asked impatiently.

"The fridge was empty.  We ate it all," Xander defended. He looked at the doc.  "I still have sixteen guns to match tonight, doc.  Do I need stronger antibiotics?  Stronger diet modification?  What do I need?"

"Shot," he said dryly, frowning at him.  "You're running a fever, your blood pressure is through the roof, your bloodwork shows malnutrition and exhaustion in addition to chemical inhalation.  Are you taking steroids?"

"Only if you gave me some or it's in my soda."

"Fine.  We're moving you to observation and if you whine, I'll let him shoot you," he said at the opening mouth.  "If you go back tonight you could die.  Choose."

"People are counting on me."

"Yes, but they'll still be counting on you next week when you're dead too," he said firmly. "It'll be an overnight, you can go back tomorrow, maybe.  Depending on why you're still sick.  And if you argue, I will turn around to let him shoot you non-fatally somewhere I won't have to close."  Xander glared and he sighed.  "One night could save your life if we can figure out how to combat what's wrong, Mr. Harris.  Don't you want to live?"

"Yes, but I don't want to make anyone else do my work either."

"Xander, you worked like a dog for the department for the last four months," Vecchio told him.  "For us, for Vegas, for all of us.  You're wearing yourself down.  Now, quit complaining or else I will shootcha.  Ma'll only fuss at me for a few minutes when I tell her you blacked out twice tonight."

"What was the interval between them?" the doctor asked.

"Maybe ten minutes at the most," Ray told him.  "The first one was momentary, like he tripped.  The second one lasted a good five minutes."

"Then he's definitely going up to observation. I will be calling his boss to tell him I'm keeping him and why.  Now, are you going to go willingly?"  Xander shook his head.  "Fine.  Detective?  He's now becoming a danger to himself and possibly others.  Please take his license and his keys. There's no way he can drive and not kill someone like this."

"Sure."  He patted the kid down, taking his guns, his wallet, his keys, his necklace, and even his glasses.  "There you go. All yours.  Let me call Mort and Welsh and I'll follow him upstairs."

"We've got a courtesy phone up there," he promised, writing out the admittance order. "We've seen a few officers recently but most of them were cured with a single night's sleep.  The fact that you had a week means that you're not going to get better without more stringent control.  We'll figure out why and release you to minimal work hours.  All right?"  Xander nodded, hanging his head. "Good."  He paged an orderly.  "He goes up to observation.  He's already been frisked for weapons."  He finished the order and handed it over.  "If Trisha's on tonight, give that to her.  If not, give it to MaryJane."  The orderly nodded, helping Xander into a wheelchair and out of the room.  "Not your fault, detective.  You tried but we missed something somewhere."  He went back to make notes about that on the nightly log and went to find his next patient.  "Warn me the next time that you're sending the walking dead back to where I'm doing charts," he told the receptionist.  "He went up to observation if anyone calls for him."  She nodded and he went to find his next patient.

***

Mort hung up and looked at the two worried men.  "They're taking him into observation now.  He was running a fever and his blood pressure was up.  Greg, I need you to calibrate that machine.  It said one of you needs to pass out cigars."

"That's one piece of news I never thought I'd hear," Greg quipped.  "Congrats, Hodges."

"Funny.  Not."  He looked at Mort.  "Is he all right?"

"They're figuring that out now.  Ray said if they can figure it out he may be able to come back tomorrow night with some restrictions.   I have the number for observation written down and you can bother the nurses hourly checking on him, all right?"  They nodded, taking the number back to their lab, Hodges going to help Greg calibrate that machine.  Mort got the pleasant task of calling Welsh and the DA's office to tell them that their ballistics tech was now in the hospital.  He called upstairs, getting Frannie.  "Dear, has your brother called Welsh yet?"  He smiled.  "No, that's fine.  Thank you.  No, I'm going to call the DA instead. Oh, she's there?  That's fine, please."  The phone was handed over.  "DA Kowalski?  Yes, it is.  No, he's in observation at the hospital.  Because he blacked out.  No, the doctors won't release him.  Ray said the doctor told him to shoot him if he fussed or whined about not coming back tonight.  That's fine, remind the judge that if he dies, it's going to be a very long time before we get another tech here.  He can wait a few more days or wait for months.  Yes, you can tell him I said that.  Dear, he was so sick his body was registering as pregnant on our machines.  Now do you want him well or dead?"  He smiled.

"I thought as much. Tell him it'll be a few days.  I'm sure he'll be back by then as long as they don't kill him for trying to escape back here to slave away for you some more.  Dear, he did ninety hours his last week here.  He did at least that many each week he was working on the bombing case in Vegas.  The boy has basically been this crime lab for the last month.  You tell your boss if he has any problems then he can step on the hiring board and make them work faster.   We only have one ballistics tech.  We only have one trace tech and he's a sub until his lab back in Vegas is rebuilt.  We have two DNA techs and he's expecting to go back into the field soon since that's where he moved to recently.  We're working at a third of our staff, DA Kowalski.  Be thankful anything gets done in a timely manner at the moment.  Tell your boss to kick the hiring board in the hind-end and make them work faster.  That's the only thing that'll clear this up sooner.  I'm sure he'll be fine.  High fever, high blood pressure.  Apparently the nurse sent him back right away with what we told him.  No, he blacked out twice within ten minutes.  Of course.  Thank you for your cooperation.  You have a nice night, DA Kowalski.  Tell your husband what's going on if he hasn't heard please.  I know they're close."  He hung up and went to help calibrate the machine.  "The fact he came up pregnant made DA Kowalski quit complaining nicely," he told them.  "How is he?"

"The nurses said he's fine," Hodges told him.  "Ray forced him to nap somehow."

"Good.  He was probably fussing over you two too much."

"No, every time I woke up, Xander was napping too," Hodges admitted.

Greg nodded.  "He was.  He'd just sit down and suddenly nap."

"That's usually a good thing.  That means his body's catching back up to what he needs.  I'm sure he'll be fine and Ray's mother will be able to help him with any food needs he has this time."

"Hopefully," Greg agreed.  "I can cook but she's way better than I am."

"Me too," Hodges agreed.  "Should we warn Vecchio that we called Captain Brass?"

"No, he can handle the man.  They're much alike in their attitude toward the boy.  They both see him as something like their wayward child."

The door slammed inward and Stanley Kowalski walked in.  "Where's Xander?"

"Observation," Greg told him calmly.  "He blacked out a few times."

"And he's pregnant how?  He is a guy, right?  Not like his dog?"  He heard Sarah bark.  "You, hush."  He looked at them again.

"He is fully male, we think the machine is miscalibrated," Hodges explained.

"It'd better be!  He don't need that on topa everything else!"

"Detective, it's probably still the exhaustion of overwork.  His body's still catching up," Mort offered.  "Go sit with him so Detective Vecchio can tell his mother."

"Yeah, I'll do that.  I'll call you guys if there's a problem."  He stormed out, heading that way.

"Now those two I can see together. Those two play together and like each other."

"Xander sees him as a big brother and Ray as lustworthy," Greg told him.

"Indeed?  Then it's fully fitting that Detective Vecchio has taken him home to meet his family and they've adopted him. I wonder if his mother knows.  She's a delightful woman."

"We know, she's come over every day to fuss," Hodges agreed.

"So have Ray and Turnbull," Greg reminded him.  "Could be he's seeing it too."

"Your hint wasn't very subtle, Greg."

"I wasn't trying to be subtle, I was trying to get the point across.  Ray doesn't seem to do subtle hints."

"No, he never has," Mort agreed.  "Are we ready to test?"  They both finished up resetting the dials and keypad and they did the first test, running it with Xander's blood.  It came up a bit differently this time.  "Well, that does explain things a bit better."  He took it to call the hospital.  "Run the others please, Greg."

"Sure, Mort."  He ran the other tests as ordered, coming up with mostly the same things.  Once they were done he brought them to him, nodding at the phone.  "He okay?"

"Oh, yes, and they've found that result themselves so they're running further tests to make sure.  He's still fine.  They let me talk to Ray and he's said Stanley hasn't made it yet.  Must have a wreck in the way."  He smiled.  "It's fine, Greg.  You can call in about a half-hour when they get the bloodwork back."

"Sure."  He went back to work, going to clear out the backlog. For an intern, the girl hadn't done too bad by herself, but there were some things he'd have to teach her when they overlapped tomorrow for an hour.  When a half-hour was up, he went over to Hodges's lab.  "They should have the new bloodwork back by now."

"Ray said they did and that it looked okay.  That it was easily cured with some diet modifications and that Stanley did finally make it but he had stopped to get Turnbull to help him watch the stubborn one."  He smirked at him.  "How did Xander do all this by himself?"

"He's amazing?  That's why he's in the hospital?"

"They think that may be more from the chemicals he inhaled from the building in Vegas.  They found trace amounts of it in his lungs."

"Did you tell Brass that too?"

"Yeah and he said Sarah's had a cough and wheeze for the last few weeks too.  He hopes Xander gets better and we can slug him if he fusses too much about any restrictions."

"Sure.  Why don't we just tie him down and baby him?"

"Because he might like that," Hodges sighed.  "Who arranged the labs so they'd be perfectly in order, everything placed where we wanted them?"

"Stanley.  Xander told him where everything should go.  That way we'd feel comfortable," Greg said, shrugging a bit.  "I'm waiting to see how I feel."

"Yeah, me too.  I don't know.  There's not much tying me there personally but I like working with Grissom and Brass.  And even occasionally you, Warrick, and Nick."

"So we'll give it a try and see if the feelings are there," Greg agreed. "If not, we'll have to tell Xander."

"You know, he doesn't expect you to stay with him," Turnbull said from the doorway.  "He told the detective that earlier.  That he didn't expect you to want to stay and he wasn't going to make you stay, but if you wanted to stay he'd be happy."  He grinned.  "We rearranged the labs so neither of you would have to move so much with how you hurt.  He told us how you had yours set up in the past."  He walked in.  "As of this moment, according to the doctors, his body is readjusting itself.  He basically needs to keep eating, resting, and drinking."

"So his desire to be helpful to everyone at once is competing against what's left of his common sense?" Hodges asked.

"Basically," he agreed. "His common sense is shutting him down to win the argument. As long as it continues to make progress, it'll ease off on his body.  If it loses another argument, well, it could get quite upset and throw a tantrum or throw the board."

"Should he be working?"

"That's fine as long as he takes it easy.  One job, possibly two at the most, not every job in the lab.  Not all the jobs in the lab at once.  Then again, that should be easier since he has no more overtime budgeted for this year. Even with him being on unpaid leave for the last few weeks."  They both groaned and shook their heads.  "He'll be fine.  Make him stick to his hours and he'll be wonderful.  By the way, he does think he could be more than friends with a few of you.  You've proven that you're not going to turn fully evil by being with him.  You two, Stanley, myself, and Ray fit into that category so far.  So if you do have to hurt him, make it gentle.  The rest of us would appreciate that."

Greg looked at him.  "That was the most polite 'I'll kick your ass if you hurt my man' I've ever heard, Renfield."

Turnbull smiled.  "I do try to stay polite.  It's part of the calling you know."  He smiled at Hodges.  "That went for you as well."  He clapped his hands.  "Now, I was asked to come lift things for you.  What things shall I begin hefting and toting for your pleasure?"

"Sweaty men never turned me on," Greg told him.  "But there's some boxes in my lab that have to be moved back into storage."

"Right away, Greg."  He went to do that.

Hodges looked at Greg.  "His manners would improve."  Greg pinched him. "Ow!"

"Renfield wouldn't take him out for a run in the park or let him play on the swingsets like I did."  He went back to his lab, going back to work.

"Actually, I find pushing him on the swing to be quite enjoyable.  It gives me a chance to touch him."

"Offer to give him backrubs.  He's a sucker for them," Greg said dryly, looking at him.  "We're not sure about that either."

"Of course.  It's not the usual thing for you and you have to consider all your options and your career.  Canada is much more practical.  We've gotten over the somber puritan morals and moved on with the reality of the world around us.  Even my Inspector likes Xander. Thinks he's very good at what he does and he makes me focus more."

"Yeah, well, I heard about your boss from Stanley.  She'd probably try to make you leave him alone as a punishment for not dusting enough or something."

"Probably for not ironing the drapes correctly but should someone try that with me, I'd have to get quite upset.  Constable Fraser said to warn him should I become that upset so he could evacuate our little corner of Canada."

"Yeah, I'd like that warning too," he agreed.  "I'll make sure Ray and Stan get it too."

Turnbull smiled at him. "Would you?  That would be very helpful of you."  He lifted the next box of supplies and put them away.  "Was everything refilled?"

"I've got enough stuff here so I can do every bit of DNA work for the next two years, Renny.  Don't worry about it.  The only thing I don't have enough of is alcohol pads for slide cleaning, but I've got cleaning solution."

He checked the boxes.  "Those are in the last box on the bottom, with the towelettes. I'll put some of each out for you.  Anything else?"

"No, I'm good," he assured him.  "Thank you.  I wish I had you back at home."

He smiled.  "I don't think I could stand the desert.  Going without snow would bother me after too long."  He went back to his chores, putting out the needed supplies when he came to them.  "Well, I'm off to dust and straighten out Her Majesty's rooms tonight.  Do have fun.  Yell if you need more help."

"Sure.  Thanks."  He nodded and left, going to report that the mess they had left was now cleaned up.

***

Xander looked up on the last day Hodges and Greg would be with him, seeing the indecisive faces.  "I don't expect you guys to stay," he said quietly.  "You guys got Grissom and the Cap, and even Sarah."

"Yeah, but you guys bend over backwards for us," Greg said, sitting on one side of him, Hodges on the other.

"The salary sucks, the official benefits package is weak, but the private benefits are great," Hodges admitted.  "I don't know, Xander.  Let me spend a week back there, see if I can stand it.  I might not be able to stand the pressure that I'm under out there anymore.  With the lab going off like that, they had to hire some new techs and I'm not counting on any of them having any sense."

"The DNA tech does," Greg assured him.  "I had a hand in them coming in."  He looked at Xander.  "You could come back with us."

"If Bobby ever really retires, I might," he promised. "Here, I've got so much."  He sighed.  "I've got seniority with Tammy leaving next month.  I've got my lab.  I've got Ray and his Ma.  I've got Stan and his Mounties."  He chuckled. "I don't think Stan realized that the Mounties were both panting after him until they got into that fight in the closet and Stan caught 'em going at it politely about who was going to ask him to that formal banquet.    I've got most everything I want here."

"But you don't have anyone to cuddle up with other than your dog," Greg agreed.  "If I don't like what's going on, I'll be back," he promised. "I told Mort I'd be back.  He'll hold off hiring a new DNA tech until the semester ends.  That gives me three weeks to tell him one way or another."  He shrugged.  "I don't know.  The only thing holding me in Las Vegas is the people.  I'd miss Gris.  Hell I might even miss Sarah."

Xander gave him a sad grin.  "I understand."

Hodges gave him a hug. "It'll be okay, Xander.  We're not abandoning you.  You can always come out with us."

"It'll be too hard to do that.  It'll be like leaving after my internship again."

"Well, you could come visit us," Hodges reminded him. "I'm sure Sarah would like to visit Warrick some more."

Xander looked at him. "He said he'd turn her into a hamburger if she tried to lick his ear that way again," he said dryly.

"He just needs to date more often," Greg said smugly.  "We've got to work on getting him and Nick dating again.   He gave him a hug.  "You're not really ready, Xander.  Your life is still too insane doing everyone else's job for them all the time. You don't have time to juggle a lover and work.  One would get slighted with the schedule you carry.  Your mate would always have to fight for your attention.  Relax, give yourself time to have some fun and enjoy being young.  You're only twenty-eight.  Be twenty-eight for a bit and see how that works, then go looking for someone serious."

"We could still be coming back, but we won't know until we get back and have a chance to see any changes.  With Grissom and Brass running the lab, you never know what's going to go wrong."

"They did it for years."

"Yes, but it could have gotten worse.  We're not sure about the new building, any changes for protocol, how many staff changes there were.  I'm giving myself two weeks. If I don't like it, I'm coming back."

"You can have the spare bed," Xander promised. "Or wherever."

Hodges grinned.  "Thanks. You make a good pillow."  He pinched him on the arm.  "Now, let's go to the airport."

"Stan said he was driving you so I didn't have to get mushy there."

"Where is he?" Greg asked.

"Probably sitting downstairs reading."  Xander got up to look.  "Yup, he's downstairs waiting."  He grinned at them and gave them last hugs.  "You guys be safe.  I don't want to have to visit you guys in the hospital or come talk to headstones.  Got it?"  They nodded, grabbing their things and heading out.

Hodges paused at the door.  "You be safe too, Xander.  No more killing yourself for work."  He gave him a knowing look and walked off, leaving the door open.

Ray walked in and shut it, pulling Xander away from the window.  "It'll hurt more if you watch."  He sat down on the couch with him, letting Xander curl up against his side.  "Ma invited you over tonight but I told her you were going to be sad and here.  She suggested I come sit with you to make sure you didn't go to work tonight."

"I have to go to work tonight."

"There's only been a beating all day.  Mort said you weren't coming in tonight."  He gave him a squeeze.  "It'll be fine.  They'll come back or you'll end up back there some day.  At least one of them will."

"Yeah, maybe," he admitted, letting Ray support him for now.  "It still sucks."

"Yeah, well, that's life, kid."  Xander hit him.  "Ow!  What was that for."

"For the bullshit advice."

"Sorry."  He grinned down at him.  "Did you know Turnbull threatened to bring you home with him tonight if Stanley didn't drive those two and make one last pitch to keep them?"

"No, but I kinda figured he did.  Turnbull's cute but it's cuter watching him stalk Stan around the office now and then."

"Well, yeah," he agreed sarcastically.  "Makes Frannie laugh too.  Especially when Fraser gets between them and reminds him that hunting Stan in the office is improper unless they're in Canada because gay relations down here are not allowed.  Therefore they must bring him back to Canada to be able to hunt him officially.  That's usually when Stan tries to sneak off but they catch him and take him to dinner back at the consulate."  He gave him a gentle squeeze.  "You'll be okay. I promise you'll be okay."

"I know I'll be okay but it still sucks ass."

"Well, yeah, with the relationship you three seem to have, that would be one of those things you could do."  Xander hit him again. "Just for that, I'm going to make you play ball with me again this weekend."

Xander looked up at him.  "The last time you did that I went home very confused and had to ask Brass if basketball that way was supposed to feel like a gay come on and rough foreplay.  You should send Catherine a card for sparing him answering that question."

Ray snorted.  "You still don't play it right, kid."

"Yeah, well, since I come home wearing more of your sweat than you do, that's reasonable."

"Not really.  If you shoved back...."

"You'd be moaning about your back and your ass hurting after I shoved you to the ground."

"Possibly true," he admitted dryly.  "Maybe.  I doubt you could do that."

"Did I not flip that three hundred pound guy the other day?"  Ray nodded.  "Do you weigh more than him?"

"No, but you can't grab me like that on the court."

"No, but there's no rules about tickling either."

"I'm not ticklish."

"Your mother said you are."

"Ma said what?  When?"

"Last week when she wanted to know if she should enlarge your room or if you were thinking about moving in here.  She said it was obvious to her and most of the people in church."

"I'm not..."  He let out a growl of frustration.  "Sorry, kid, not my ways."

"I know," he sighed, leaning against him again.  "You or Jim Brass.  There's very few men I'd consider sleeping with, all of them much smarter than I am.  Two of them think I'm a little kid, even though I'm nearly thirty.  Two of them just went back to Vegas, and the other two are sleeping with the guy the rest of the station thinks you're sleeping with.  All but Mort, Welsh, and Stan."

"They're still on that?"

"Yup.  I got warned not to become a home-wrecking boyfriend by making you cheat on him by one of the patrol cops."

"Shit," he muttered, giving the kid a squeeze.  "We'll figure it out some day."

"Sure.  Take another guy I can't turn evil away from me."

"Oh, I've already got enough evil in me," he said smugly. "You can't warp me that much."  He gave him a kiss on the forehead.  "We'll figure it out, Xander.  Even if I have to find you a real lover and staple them to your side."

"That might hurt."

"Probably but it'd keep you off scenes at four in the morning when you're supposed to be out of the office."

"There's nothing else for me to do.  The cable here sucks.  It's a good thing I found other reasons to stay.  I'd be bored forever."

"Yeah, uh-huh.  Your mouth blows a storm that covers the rocks in your head."  Xander looked up, giving him his most innocent look.  "Keep that look, kid, it might work on someone some day."

Xander snuggled in.  "It gets me cookies from your mother.  That's all I expect it to do."

***

Brass looked up as the two techs came off the plane. "No tans?"

"No, no tans.  It's been rainy the last week," Hodges told him.  He looked around. "No brass band?"

"Nope, sorry.  Grissom did tell me I could arrest you if you dawdled though."

"Ya know, we have standing offers to go back there," Greg said dryly. "They sent their detectives to beg and plead at our feet."

"We pay better, have casinos and sunshine, and Sarah's running day shift."

"Then I'm booking a flight back tonight," Hodges told him. "Xander's going to end up running his in two years unless they find someone else.  He's got seniority."

"So, how was it?" he asked as he walked them off.

"The pay sucked, but the people were great.  As odd as you ever wanted to work with but they pulled their own weight.  Their full team finally came together," Greg told him.  "Their newest field tech has more years in the field than Grissom does and he taught me a lot while he worked with me.  I got to mentor the intern all the time.  Hodges got a few admirers among the cops who only wanted to take care of him and make him feel loved."

"Plus Xander's dog," Hodges reminded him.

"Plus Sarah the dog," he agreed happily.  "She had to go to Ray's mother's last night so she wouldn't whine at us today when we left.  She was whimpering pitifully while we packed to make us stay."

"Sounds like it's good for the kid."

"He's still lonely," Hodges said quietly.  "Ray thinks of him like you do."

"Stan's got two Mounties hunting him night and day," Greg added. "That was his pool of friends."

"Damn, poor kid," Brass sighed.  He let them get their bags, watching them move.  They both looked well rested and happy, even a bit content.  "What did they offer you to stay?"

"The labs we had with all new equipment, set up perfectly for us," Hodges told him.  "An intern next year.  Free run to make Xander behave and slow down his hours."

"Three days a week in the field with a day in the lab," Greg told him. "Plus paid court time."  Brass looked impressed at that.  "They'd be paying me as a field tech but they make slightly more there.  It's the lab techs who make less.  I'd be able to use the lab for research purposes if it wasn't in use for a case or in our off peak hours."

Hodges nodded. "I got that offered too.  So did Xander."

"So why didn't you stay?" Brass asked.

"We're giving you a few weeks to measure the offer against what we already have," Hodges told him honestly.  "The only thing keeping me here is my contract and a very few of the people."

Greg nodded.  "Me too.  The people mostly.  My contract year's almost up."

Brass considered is as they headed out to his car.  "How long do we have?"

"A few weeks," Hodges told him. "We told him by end of semester.  That's when most people pick their interns."

"So it'll be you or an intern, who Xander'll have to help train?" he asked.  They nodded.  "Is he all right?"

"Hell no," Greg said bitterly.  "Ray was waiting on us to leave so he wouldn't get too upset.  I doubt it worked."

"Me too," Brass agreed, opening the doors to his car.  "In.  We'll take you by so you can look at the new building.  It's on the same lot.  Just give us a chance, guys."

"You got two weeks," Greg reminded him. "I love Grissom.  I love working with Grissom and Nick and Warrick and Cat and sometimes Sarah.  I had autonomy there that I don't here.  They enjoyed my music."

"Not to mention the dueling t-shirts you had going with Xander," Hodges reminded him.

"True.  If I had more of my collection at hand, I would have won."  He sneezed.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem," Brass agreed.  He started the engine and took off, heading back to the station.  "You guys want to go in today to look around or just head home?"

"We should probably look over the labs," Hodges admitted. "At least I should.  That way I know what I still need to bring from home."

"How's Mia, Brass?"

"She's okay but she had to retire.  She can't move her hands delicately enough to manipulate the test tubes and measuring pips anymore.  We're getting the intern from Chicago in as her replacement.  That does mean you'll be doing some lab time unfortunately, Greg.  Grissom wanted to ask you personally if you would.  If not, he'll get an intern and ask you to check on them."  He made a non-committal noise.  "Sorry."

"Not an issue.  She'll be here within a month."  He sneezed again.  "Stupid plane air conditioning.  Sarah's really running day shift?"

"It's temporary."  He turned at the light.  "So, do you think Xander would come back if Bobby has to retire?"

"There's a lot keeping him there," Hodges said plainly.  "Ray and his family.  The lab he loves and helped design.  People who respect him.  Seniority with a supervisor who's go to leave in two years.  The guy with more experience doesn't want it if they look at total time in."

"Is Bobby not fully back?" Greg asked.

"He doesn't have full use of that arm," Brass admitted.  "He can do his job one-handed but it's a pain.  His intern is going to the state police.  Xander was right, he did propose while in the hospital."

"When's the wedding?"

"Once she graduates from her internship.  They haven't made any other plans yet."  He pulled into the station's lot, going slowly.  "As you can see, our parking lot now has an automated pass system for parking.  It's your new badge."  He held his up to the reader and went to his assigned space.  "We've all got assigned spaces now."

"Nick's not in today?" Greg asked, looking around.

"No, not today.  He's off helping someone move."  He parked and turned off the engine, looking at his techs.  "We want you two to stay.  I'm not going to lie to you.  I want you to stay, Grissom wants you to stay, everyone wants you to stay.  If you feel pulled toward Xander, that's something I get.  I switched departments because of my wife.  I get that fully."  They both nodded.  "Give us the full two weeks and see how things settle in.  It might be okay. There's not that many changes.  We're just a little more secure now."  He got out and let them out of the car, walking them toward the building.  "I'll drive you home in a bit."  He pointed at the entrance.  "This is the staff entrance.  Again, the pass is on your ID badge."  He held his up to the reader and it let them in, so he walked them back to the reception area.  "Got theirs, Patricia?"

"Sure do, Captain Brass."  She found them and handed them over.  "In the envelope is also your temporary pin so you can code things on your ID, like if you want to put money on it so you can use the machines without having to worry about change."  She smiled at them.  "How's Xander?"

"Healthy again," Greg offered with a small grin.  "He's okay and he's mostly happy."

"Good!  It's good for him to be happy.  Is he dating?"

"Not really," Hodges told her.  "He was working hours that would make most people die.  The ones he likes aren't for him and the other possible ones are thinking."  She pursed her lips.  "He'll be fine."

"I hope so.  He doesn't deserve to be that upset. He's a nice guy.  Remember to wear your badge at all times and tell us if it falls off or gets lost.  It takes a couple of days to make a new one and get it encoded in the system."

Brass nodded.  "It does.  I already lost one.  Come on."  He led them back to their unit, which had locking doors.  "We now have a guard.  If your hands are full, you hit the red button and he'll let you in.  Put on your badges."  They clipped them on and he let them back inside, letting them see the posters asking 'where's your badge'.  "They're temporary," he assured them.  "How's the security there?"

"Like our old one was," Hodges admitted.  "We're in the basement of that precinct."

"I guess that's okay.  Is it safe?"

"Yeah, the cops on the main floor have a desk sergeant at all times and the door down is in plain sight so anyone walking down or up it is spotted immediately."

"The cops got really hostile to us the first couple of days until they learned who we were," Greg agreed.  "They're very over protective of us and the detectives upstairs.  One even told Xander not to go up at that time because it was a problem time of the day.  Told him to wait an hour."

"That's...that's good," Brass agreed.  "I wish we could still do that here but the sheriff is now paranoid."

"I don't blame him," Greg admitted.  "We've been attacked how many times in recent years?"

"Point."  He walked them back to the lab section.  "Everything's laid out about the same.  There's an extra auxiliary room if you didn't notice.   There's a separate breakroom and vending area.  That way we don't all get crunched in there at break time and we can still hold meetings in there."  He opened the DNA lab door.  "Greg, Chem and DNA.  Hodges, you're across the hall and one up."  He opened that door, letting him inside.  He stopped him and looked at him.  "I miss the kid too," he said quietly. "If he ever wants to come back, if you don't head there, I'd welcome him immediately.  Even if he was wanted for murder.  Got it?"  Hodges nodded at that and walked inside.  "As you can see, they replaced the junky computer with a brand new one, not refurbished but donated.  None of Xander's porn on this one either."  Hodges smirked at that and looked around, noticing the few changes.  "We tried to make it exact but I wasn't sure how the cabinets were before."

"No, this is good.  It's fixed a few problems I had."  He looked at the table.  "That's not really acceptable.  No leg area?"

"There's one on the end," he offered.  "That panel can be removed or moved back, but the wiring's back there.  This table has multiple light functions."  He popped open the panel to show him the various settings.  "It's not the one I wanted or Gris wanted, but it's the one the sheriff wanted and he was paying for it with grant money."

"It won't do me much good to light most things from the bottom.  Are there any normal tables?"

"A few," he agreed.  "We can move this one into the corner for you and move a normal table in.  That's why I left that space open, for a rolling or moved table."  Hodges nodded at that and turned on his computer.  "Same password and user name."

"Thank you."  He typed it in, seeing the picture on the monitor, which made him look at the captain.  "His dog?"

"The administrator liked his dog.  Thought it was pitiful that someone had done that.  You can't control your own background for some reason.  I think he's trying to block more Xander porn."

"We have spyware?"

"For now.  It's supposed to relax within the month.  When we went through the old systems we found some people doing some online gambling, and some people doing some illegal picture fixing.  We found evidence of blackmail on one computer.  Plus we found Xander's picture of Oral Roberts and the Teletubbies on quite a few machines."  Hodges smirked at that.  "I liked it," he offered. "I know it was on mine.  I had him save it for me."  He nodded.  "Come on, I'll show you the break area.  We're almost deluxe now.  Plus we still have the table and shade trees outside."  He walked him that way, stopping to get Greg from another lab, and headed for the break room.  It had another old, tired couch someone had brought in.  It had a large table with chairs.  Had the tv, fridges, and microwaves.  It had a nice view.  Next to it was a room full of vending machines.  Food, soda, snacks, instant cameras, change machine, one video game that was Mrs. Pacman and Asteroids.  Greg snorted and caressed the old relic.  Brass shrugged.  "Nick wanted something to do to think with.  He got used to playing fetch with Xander' dog.  By the way, she's still a bit upset at that."  He walked them back to the garages and out the side door.  "Our picnic area.  No smoking here, but otherwise it's all good.  No one said anything when they found a couple of cops christening it."  They nodded and he took them inside to the locker area.  "It's a bit bigger.  The interns get their own row, that way they can sit and groan about you full techs together by themselves."

"They go out to the bar for that," Hodges said dryly.  "How many do we have?"

"Ten coming in.  Two field, one day shift DNA, who Greg'll be mentoring if he stays.  One more for Bobby.  Two for Archie because he desperately needed them. Four still to be decided on this summer."

"Was I planned on getting one?" Hodges asked.

"No," Brass said honestly.  "We didn't think you'd want one.  We did get you a day shift Trace person who knows something though."

"Finally.  Where are they from?"

"Maine.  Portland, Maine.  Pretty country up there."  Hodges nodded at that.  "Snow."

"Xander said to tell you he's looking forward to snow because he's never seen any, but he's hoping someone teaches him to drive on it," Greg offered.

"It's tricky the first few winters," Brass agreed.  "I wrecked my second time driving in snow.  I hit an icy patch and slid off the interstate."  He grimaced.  "My mother yelled for months about that.  She reminded me of it on her death bed."  He shook that thought off.  "Come on, Grissom wanted to talk to you two too.  That way he can give you the amended new rules list, which the Sheriff thoughtfully changed after we all walked out one night, and the amended computer policy memo to warn you about the spyware issue."  He led them back to Grissom's office.  "He's replaced the ones he couldn't save," he said when he saw Greg looking around.  "Gris?"  His head popped up.  "We also got him his own refrigerator so he wouldn't put any more experiments in the break room."

"That's an improvement I like," Greg agreed with a grin.  "We're back.  Xander said hi and he's glad you're still okay.  He wanted a letter because you keep forgetting to write him.  You missed all the fun.  We got to take him to a carnival.  A real one, his first real one, and his first circus.  He wanted to share pictures with you but he said your email bounced."

"They gave me a new user name," he said grimly.  "I can't remember it."   He looked at them.  "What did they offer you?"

"A hell of a lot," Greg told him. "Including research rights and time in the lab one day a week with three days in the field."

"We have special labs there that are set up perfectly for us.  Mine and ballistics have a sliding door between them.  He's got seniority by hire time there."

"That's impressive," Grissom agreed.   "So why did you come back?"

"We're giving it a trial to see which suits us better now," Hodges said honestly.

"Good.  A fair trial is all we ask."  He looked at them both.  "Greg, I'm sorry, but we're short a DNA tech.  Can I get you to fill in now and then?"  He nodded.  "Can you mentor an intern next year?"

"Maybe.  The first few months should be spent with them and only by their side correcting things.  I was helping the one in Chicago learn new things and ideas."

"Well, if you can't, let me know within a few weeks and we'll arrange something," he promised.  "Hodges, you're not due for an intern but there's a spot open if you wanted one.  I didn't want to intrude on you with one, I know you don't like to teach that much.  Fortunately your day shift counterpart has fifteen years experience, but she's got the beginnings of arthritis in her hips and knees so she needed somewhere warm.  She's from a smaller department but she was their top tech there."  He smiled and nodded at that.  "I hope you two can at least get along professionally?"

"I'd hope so too.  How does she feel about an intern mucking up the lab?"

"She doesn't mind. She's had four in the past.  If we do get a Trace intern applying she's asked for them if you didn't want them."  His phone rang and he looked at the number.  "I'm not talking to him today."  He looked at his techs again.  "How long do we have?"

"Two weeks," Greg said honestly.  "We told Mort we'd let him know by the end of the local semester."

"That's fine.  By then your contract is up and Hodges's runs out about ten weeks later?"

"Nine," he corrected.  "He knows."

"Good."  He leaned back in his chair.  "I'm sorry everything is so overwhelming at the moment.  We tried to calm down the paranoia.  It didn't help much but we don't have cameras in the bathrooms or in the showers.  That nearly got a lawsuit so that idea was dropped fairly quickly."  He looked at them.  "Want to start tonight?"  They shook their heads and he smiled.  "I didn't think so.   Go home, come back tomorrow night and remember to wear your badges.  We're supposed to be doing spot checks."  Greg nodded and walked out with Brass.  "Hodges?" he asked.

"He's lonely," he said quietly.  "The few people he could be with are either taken, straight, or us."

"If you decide to go, I'll let you break your contract," he promised. "How is he otherwise?"

"We got him to slow down and now they've got a full crew, minus us, so they're back to only letting him work one shift.  He had been doing eighteen hour days.  The first night back he collapsed after blacking out.  They decided his body was saying fix it or we're dying now."  He walked closer.  "It's a similar offer, Grissom.  I'm not lying.  Greg has more reason to go back than I do."

"I know.  Your reason for going back is the same reason he won't move back here.  The people.  I understand.  If you want to go, tell me.  Don't just disappear and call from the plane though, okay?  Give me at least an hour's warning?"  Hodges nodded.  "Good.  Watch out for Sarah, she's on a power trip.  He really has seniority?"

"The two last techs that were left were both injured in the field.  Xander shot the guys shooting them from the window.  Apparently he didn't want any cops anywhere on his street, even scene techs.  Xander was heading home with Ray when they got the call and they responded.  He's got a new graze that's healing well on his arm and one on the side of his neck.  He rode back to the station with Ray once the cleanup was done and got Mort to bandage it for him and went back to work after some pain killers.  Greg and I got to pounce him for that and make him go home with Stan and the Mounties.  They took him to their place and spoiled him rotten."

"Good.  It's good that he's found new friends there.  I'm happy for him."

"The Canadians wanted him to switch citizenship and become one of them and a Mountie."

Grissom grinned at that.  "I can't see him in the uniform daily."

"Neither could he.  He said it'd be too much like being a stripper again."  He shrugged. "I'll see you tomorrow."  He headed out, going back to Brass's car.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem.  I figure the kid gave you some messages for everyone."

"He did tell me to kiss you and shock you to death, but I can't do that, Captain," Hodges said dryly.

"Thanks for that.  Really."  He got in to drive, watching as Hodges stared at the building for a minute before getting in.  "You okay?"

"I don't know yet."  He buckled up.  "Bad habit, Ray and Stan are both insane drivers.  Ray doesn't believe in red lights."

"We found out why Xander had that wreck that wrenched his knee.  He was telling Stan about his thoughts on football and made him crash."  Brass laughed. "He still thinks that but curling isn't half bad."

"It's boring, Greg."

"Maybe, but it's a calm sport, one you can nap to on Sunday afternoon without worrying about the announcers going wild and being too noisy.  Then again, they watched curling and Stan and I went to make cheese sticks the old fashioned way."

"Which made Turnbull pant," Hodges reminded him.

"Which nearly got Xander jumped by him," Greg agreed.  "Which made Stan jealous and bagged him a Mountie sandwich that night."

"Two Mounties?"

"Yeah, Benny and Renfield," Hodges told him.  "Nice guys, very polite.  Turnbull even helps Xander when he's floundering with manners and things.  Jokes about him becoming Canadian and a Mountie."

"I can't see the kid in the uniform," Brass admitted, shaking his head.  He started the car and backed out. "Let's see, you're closer, Hodges?"  He nodded. "We'll drop you off first, then I'll hit Greg's."

***

Xander trudged in three days later after his mandatory time off and looked at his boss.  "Am I done being exiled for whining?"

"You're still whining but you're not exiled anymore," he promised. "Ray's waiting on you, he's got a new case for you."

"Hmm, wonderful," he said dryly, grabbing his jacket and glasses from his usual nook on the wall, heading back there while he put them on.  He walked in and looked at Ray.  "Anything interesting or the usual?"

"The usual," he admitted.  "Someone stuck up a strip joint."  He handed over the case and the two bagged guns.  "You're extra proof.  We have him on tape.  One of the girls there kicked his ass."

"Good.  Strippers are fierce, drunken women and men."  He sat down at his work table to look at the results, noticing that Trace had already done it.  He frowned, looking at him, then at the forms.  Then at the sliding wall.  He walked over and opened it, finding Hodges in there.  "You didn't let me pick you up?"

"I brought you dinner too," he said, giving him a sideways look.  "That way you eat."  He smirked as Xander squealed and hugged him.

"Hey, not in front of the straight people," Ray complained.  "I picked him up earlier.  Stan's dancing around because you're not going to take his Mountie from him."  He walked in and patted Xander on the back.  "Whenever you've got time to do those, kid.  Enjoy him for a few more minutes so he can get back to work."  He left them there, smirking at Mort on his way out.  "He saw the name on the form."

"Ah.  Young love," he sighed, going back to his own job.  "Remember to do some work tonight, Xander."

"I work harder than you do," he called back.

"Not any more you don't," Hodges shot back.  "I will not have an absentee boyfriend.  Do we have a clear understanding, Xander?"  He beamed and nodded.  "Good.  I'm on a six- month leave of absence with Vegas.  Grissom agreed to it and Brass kept asking me why I came back."  He kissed him hard, then let him go.  "Go to work, we'll talk after work.  No nookie in the lab."

"Yes, dear.  Greg?"

"Greedy," he snorted.

"Just asking," he said with a small blush.

"Back there still.  They gave him an intern and the kid from here is going out there. He's still got a few weeks left."  He winked.  "Go back to work."

"Yes, dear."  He shut the sliding wall and got down to working on Ray's cases for him.  When he was done, he walked the reports out, leaving a copy on Mort's desk and the rest heading upstairs to Ray's desk.  He found him at his desk, napping, so slid it next to him and snuck back downstairs.  He didn't have anything else yet so he went in to help Hodges, just like old times.  "All done."

"Xander," the DNA tech called pitifully.  "Help!"

Xander rolled his eyes.  "Coming."  He headed that way through the door, going to help the poor girl look up what test she needed and how to do it.  He knew what it was, but this one needed her hand held constantly.  He went back to his office and wrote a quick memo to Mort, going to put it in with his copy of the paperwork, but not inside the folder in case someone else picked it up. Mort walked in so he handed it over instead, shaking his head.  "She needs another year with someone. Someone firm."

"She's got one coming.  She's going to Vegas."

"She'll be all alone in Vegas.  All night and all day, with an intern from what I hear."

"Oh, dear."  He went to call Grissom and check on that, then went to talk to her.  "Dear," he said.  "Are you busy?"

"I'm trying to be."  She grinned at him.  "Did Xander insult me or something?"

"He just told me something that I hadn't realized.  You'll be doing this same sort of work in Las Vegas, by yourself, without an intern director, but there'll be an intern in the office with you.  I wanted to make sure you knew that since you still have some days when you're not confident in here."

She shook her head slowly. "I can't teach someone else this yet, Mort."

"I realize that, dear. You won't be handling the intern, but he'll be in and out on your shift.  He's going to day shift most likely."

"What about Greg?"

"He's a field tech.  He's gone about ninety percent of the time," Hodges said from the doorway.  "Yeah, you'll have an intern, if not two, in there with you."  She went pale and shook her head.  "You can back out of the contract and ask for another year of internship or find a secondary internship that specializes.  Trace has many of those.  I did one of those myself."  She relaxed a bit.  "So, I'd start looking. You're running a bit behind if Mort doesn't have room in the budget."

"If she went somewhere that did paternity cases, she could do a lot of good," Xander called.  "Or going to work for CODIS and the Feds.  She hasn't made any overt mistakes that weren't covered by the quiet reviews Greg did.  She could do a second one in paternity cases and find a lab that specialized in them."

"Do you think so?"

"Yeah, there's one up the street," Xander reminded her.  "We had to ship to them for a few weeks before you came."

"Point."  She looked at Mort.  "What do you suggest, Mort?"

"I suggest you talk with Gil Grissom first," he said firmly.  "Get his opinion and Greg's.  Then if they think it's a good idea, that's an excellent place for you, dear."

"Thank you, Mort.  I'll call on my lunch."

"Call now. I just talked to him so I know he's in the office."

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, Hodges and Xander."

"Welcome."   Hodges went back to his lab, giving Xander a look when he came in.  "Paternity?" he whispered.

"Same test over and over," he hissed back.  "She's good at paternity and family testing."

"Point.  Very good point."  They went back to work, side by side, giving each other looks now and then until Xander finally broke and stole a kiss with a grin before plucking off another hair and bagging it.  "Naughty, Xander."

"And no porn in sight," he quipped.

"Very true.  Where's the dog?"

"Under the mass spec again."

"Why?"

"I think she's having a litter but I'm not sure and Mort told me to leave her there.  I'm not sure why or whose they are.  I'm hoping they're not Dief's."

"If they are, that was one strange mating," he said dryly, finding another sample and plucking it off to bag.  "Eww, now I have that thought stuck in my head."

Xander gave him a little nudge.  "Think about later.  Are you sleeping alone tonight?"

"I'd hope not. I didn't the whole time I was here."  He nudged him back.  "Someone's in your lab."

"I shoot people," Xander called.

"If ya shoot me, I'm siccing my Mounties on you," Stan said as he moved the wall, holding up a full bag of guns.  "Found in the trunk of a car that hit mine."

"Drug dealer?" Hodges asked.

"So, you came back?" he asked smugly.

"Wipe it or I'm pouncing and tickling you."

"Fine, sorry," he said sheepishly.  Xander would do it upstairs and embarrass him in front of everybody.  "Not a drug dealer and the baggie looks familiar.  I think we've seen them in here before."

"Sure," Xander agreed, taking them to run serial numbers.  He got down the acid and the swabs just in case but the first one he pulled out had one still on it.  He ran it and smirked.  "Mort, region one's got a leak.  Stan found some of their guns."

"Oh, wonderful.  Their smug bastard will gloat for weeks to the mayor until you punch him," Mort said, walking in.  He looked at the report.  "Destroyed eh?  Hmm."  He called Welsh. "Come down to Xander's lab, now.  With the police chief if possible."  He hung up and watched as Xander printed that report out then moved to the next one, acid etching it to get the number.  He tagged it and searched that one.  Also destroyed by region one's lab.  "Xander, I want you to check our protocols this week.  I want a report on if they're good or not."

"I followed our last batch in and tossed them in myself," Xander assured him.  "It was nice playing with the pretty fire.  Ours are fine.  Region three's fine.  Region one and the snotty upper crust assholes there aren't."  He looked over as Welsh came in.  "Destroyed guns found by Stan after an auto accident.  Were they claiming they were on the way to the destruction incinerator?"

"No, they're claiming they were stolen," he said dryly.  "No one's believing them."

"Hmm.  Yeah, me either.  Have a seat.  It'll only take me a few more minutes."  He went back to searching, tagging the weapons and printing the reports.

Hodges shook his head and got back to work.  Xander wouldn't forget about him.  It was all good between them.  He heard a crash and a crying woman and groaned.  "Mort?  Is that in DNA?"

"Yes."  He went over there, finding her looking in fear at the puppies.  "Are they all right?"  He got down to look, finding one that had fallen out of the small basket they had put down there.  "Any more, Sarah?"  She barked and licked his fingers, but looked quite pleased with herself.  "Very nicely done, dear."  He checked again, finding something that might be a puppy and might not.  "Here, let's clean this up," he ordered, handing it off.

"That's nasty!"

Xander came over to clean up the mess, that was a dead puppy but the rest looked okay.  She had cleaned them and was nursing.  "Nice job, Sarah.  Who's the daddy doggy?"  She barked and wagged her tail weakly. "How did you and Dief do that?" he asked, shaking his head and taking her and the basket back with him.  He put her under an unused corner table.  "We'll go show the daddy later," he promised.  "Let me get you some water."

"I will," Welsh said, getting her a small dish of water, watching as Mort opened up a can of wet food for her.  Then he went back to watching the reports come out as each gun was gone through.  "Anything really good?"

"The Donovan homicide that made headlines for weeks."  He handed that gun over.  "We'll need to fingerprint those so be careful."

"Sure."  He put that gun down, watching as the last two were done.  Then Xander rebagged them and handed him the reports. "You're so nice. You want a Mountie?"

"Yes, and his other daddies too."  He looked at Mort, who waved at him.  "I'll be right back."  He picked up the basket.  "Let's go see the daddies."  Up the stairs, smiling at the cops who stopped to admire the dog and the puppies, and into the detective's room, kicking the door open.  "Diefenbaker!" he shouted.  "Where are you, you raping lothario dog!"

"He's deaf, Xander, I doubt he heard you," Stanley said dryly.  The basket was put in front of him.  "Whoa.  What're those?"

"Puppies.  Dief!" he snapped.  He slunk out from under Ray's desk so he picked him up and let him see.  "Do you see what you did?   You made me a grandfather."  He put him down and frowned at him. "I'm going to have to report you to your Mountie for this.  You're not supposed to have lust on duty by the manual."

"He's a dog, he don't follow the manual," Stanley said weakly, counting the puppies again.  "There's a lot of puppies."

"No shit, fellow grandfather.  That makes us in-laws too."  He heard footsteps and looked back. "Benton Fraser, get your ass in here."  He looked startled but walked in.  Xander pointed at the basket.  "What do you have to say to your furry half?"

He looked at the puppies, then at Diefenbaker.  "How was that accomplished?"

"Hodges wanted to know that too," he said dryly.  "We are now in-laws.  I'll expect you to take equal amounts of care and help me raise them."

"Yes, Xander," he said meekly.  "We should call Ray."

"Only if we want Ma to raise the puppies for us."

Stanley dialed as quickly as he could, getting Ray on the house phone. "Puppies," he said desperately. "Dief and Sarah puppies.  Lots of puppies."  He looked at the basket.  "Zillions it looks like.  Little gray lumps of hair mostly."

Xander looked and counted.  "Twelve."

"Twelve?" he said, looking upset.

"Probably were thirteen but one died and the DNA tech freaked out at the sight of them."

"Is she all right?" Benny asked.  He glared at Diefenbaker.  "We'll be talking later, young man."

"Yes you will and it'll be an illegitimate set of grandchildren too because I never wanna see that sight again."

"Yes, Xander," they agreed.

"Can we name one basketball?  It seems like an appropriate name for a dog."

"If you'd like," Benton agreed.  "I insist on naming at least one after Inspector Thatcher however.  She demanded if there were ever more puppies born from Diefenbaker."

"Sure.  Pick the runt of the litter," Xander offered.

Hodges came up the stairs.  "Can you guys babysit?  We need Xander.  There's a fight in ballistics."

"Sure, go ahead and leave us with the zillion puppies."

"We'll have to name one after Nick," Hodges said as he pulled Xander off.  "The other director came and he said you're full of it."

"He's full of it and about to get fuller when I shove my foot up his ass," he said dryly.   He walked in and took the reports, looking through them.  Then he looked at the shouting people.  "If they're listed as destroyed and they're not, which you're not supposed to list them as until they are officially destroyed and witnessed the burning and melting part of it, then why are they laying on my desk?"  The directors glared at him.  "As a matter of federal protocol for this system, destroyed weapons are to be listed as such only after a representative of the department has witnessed them being destroyed, either by melting, exploding, or being chopped into component pieces.  If they are listed as destroyed before such destruction begins, that is a Federal criminal offense that requires not less than one year and not more than five years in a federally secure installation for each violation of the weapon's code.

"Weapons in transit are to be listed as in transit for destruction.  That way proper records can be maintained when and where such weapons are stolen, misplaced, or otherwise lost in the system so each department can keep track of such matters and relate back to such statistics to find ways of fixing these problems.  If it is not done so properly, each department is in violation of the federal code, is at risk of losing all federally gifted funds, and does risk not having access to said database.  That is chapter and verse from the fucking manual.  Now take it the hell out of my lab before I report region one's fuckup to the admins over the database!" he shouted, pointing at the hallway. "I will not have such childish behavior in my lab, especially not from someone who flounts and pushes themselves as being better than anyone else because he was born with money and proper manners.  You are distracting the lab personnel and you are endangering lives by that distraction.  That will get you sued, gentlemen.  Now, get out, take it out into the parking lot like a bunch of pimps, and do it far the hell away from me, my lab, and my precinct.  Region two and three are in compliance.  We can report region one and I did take an oath to do so.  You've got two damn days to fix this problem of yours or else I am reporting you to the admins and I hope like hell they give your funds to the tolerance movements."  The director gasped.  "I mean it!"  He walked out.  "You forgot the repots, dipshit!"

"I'll expect a faxed over copy later, CSI Harris."

"Good.  If I have to fix this leak, you're not going to like the sight of my foot coming out of your mouth covered in your shit.  I don't have the time or the energy to deal with region one's mistakes and improper handling.  You just risked sixteen cases which can now be put up for review or appeal.  I hope like hell you're prepared."   He went even more pale.  "Did you want to wait for those copies?  I can run you off one."

"Please," he ground out.  Xander stuck them into the copier, letting them copy.  "Thank you," he said, teeth still gritted together.

"Dear, smile when you say that.  It adds veracity to the act of the lie," he said smugly, staring him down.  "We handle more cases every year than you do in a decade. Making us deal with your shit too, well, it makes me cranky because I can't go home to my lover tonight."  He backed up and ran out.  "Good!"  He went back to his lab, looking at Welsh and the Chief of Police.  "I mean it, two days and then I am required by law to report him. If I do not, I can lose my license and go to jail.  I'm not doing that for this department.  I may die for you, but I'm not going to be the new bitch on the block."

"Fine," he said mildly.  "I agree.  They have two days to fix such errors and I'll expect a report, which I'll forward to you if you don't get a copy.  Thank you for that, CSI Harris.  You're a great asset to this department and this precinct.  Do you hope to run it some day?"

Xander snorted.  "Unless Mort finds a replacement, I've got seniority."  Mort stifled a snicker at that.  "Don't I?"  He nodded, smirking at the chief.  Then Xander grinned at Welsh.  "I promise to treat the new detectives gently the first few times."

"Thank you, Xander.  That's very nice of you.  You fit in here very well.  You might as well be a Vecchio."

"With my dog and Dief having puppies, I'm now an in-law of Kowalski's.  Think I can tell Stella that?"

Welsh smothered his laughs.  "You do that."  He patted him on the arm.  "Good job," he offered, walking out with the chief.  "He's a real asset, sir.  Jumped in beautifully when we had that manpower problem.  He was pulling eighteen hour days with pneumonia there for a bit.  He did field work, trace, and ballistics during that crisis plus got us help from Vegas.  Which means we kept one of the best trace techs in the US today.  CSI Hodges, this is the Police Chief.  I'm not sure if you met yet."

"Not yet.  Pleasure to meet you, sir," he said, shaking his hand.  "I helped train Xander during his internship year in Vegas.  He's a great worker and I enjoy working with him.  We work very well together."

"I'm glad.  Harris seems like he's got his stuff together and he knows what he's doing.  Quoted chapter and verse to me as well.   I'm quite impressed with the way Mort's rebuilt this unit, especially if he managed to bag such an asset as yourself and CSI Harris.  Welcome to the family and feel free to tell me if your lab needs anything."

"No, we're doing very well, sir.  We mesh very well here.  Mort and Lieutenant Welsh made sure of it before they recommended anyone."

"Good!  I like that," he said happily, clapping Welsh on the back.  "Come on, let's go talk about this, Welsh.  Your office have scotch?"

"No, sir.  I had to quit keeping it up there due to a problem detective.  I believe I have puppies though."

"They're being petted by Stanley at his desk," Hodges offered.  "We're in-laws now."  He smiled and went back to his lab.

"And gay too, married no less, that'll score us major public relation points with that union," the chief said happily. "I like him for second in command down here.  You?"

"He's not got many years on the job, but Mort's doing good teaching him, sir."  He led the way upstairs, going to check on the puppies.  "They're adorable, Sarah."  She barked and licked his fingers. "I'll bring you some lunch meat in a few minutes."  He led the chief into his office and even pointed at the good chair.

"Xander, if you're going to be my second in command, you have to start helping me do paperwork and you'll have to go to conventions to talk up the department," Mort offered.

"We need to name one of the puppies after Bobby, Hodges."

"True.  After Greg too.  Conventions are fun.  At least Trace ones are."

"There's specific ones?" Xander asked, sounding awed.  "I thought there were only CSI ones and cop ones."

"No, there's specific conventions for each speciality then the big CSI one," Hodges said with a grin.  "We can go."  Xander hugged him, bouncing a bit.  "Control it, Xander.  You know the rules about bouncing in the lab."

"Yes, dear.  Mort, what paperwork?"

"I'll show you over the next few weeks," he promised, going to go back to work now that the excitement was over with. He walked into his office and found Gil Grissom standing there.  "You were very fast."

"I was on the plane when you called.  I was coming out to talk to our new DNA tech."  He shrugged.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem.  Xander handled that problem very well.  We won't have to deal with an IAD matter, and they'll have to fix themselves or face retribution when their funds are canceled."

Grissom smiled.  "It's always better than playing politicks," he agreed. "She wasn't in her lab.  Do you know where she went?"

"She was disgusted by the puppy that was born."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "A DNA tech afraid of blood.  Interesting."

"He says that about Xander a lot too," Greg said from behind him.  "Hey.  Still need me?"  Mort nodded quickly.  "Cool.  Still four days a week so I can go for my PhD?"

"If you'd like, Gregory.  Grissom, I'm sorry for such atrocious poaching."

"I'm not. It's not the same in the new building.  Besides, they just shut us down for improper building codes again.  So we're free for the next six months until they fix the foundations."

"I'm doing the same thing Hodges is," Greg admitted.  "Six months leave."

"That's fine, Gregory.  All we wanted was a good shot.  What will Las Vegas do?"

"They've got a secondary unit," he admitted, "like you do here.  Plus the state police.  Where's the girl?"

"She got disgusted at the sight of the new puppies being born," Xander said, hugging him.  "Hi.  Are you back?"

"Six months.  We're shut down due to improper building codes.  The sheriff had a heart attack when he was told that.  Ecklie's probably still laughing in his little padded room."

"Him and my serial killer ex."

"No, she's here," Grissom told him.  "We tracked her, she's following Hodges."  He smiled.  "We also handed her over to Ray earlier. He was not happy with her and started off by yelling at her until she cried."

Xander giggled. "Good."  He grinned at his boss.  "Is it official?"

"You do have seniority and the only person with more time in doesn't want it. Unless I can find someone who just administrates, yes.  You're my second."  He waved.  "Shoo.  Take Greg.  I'll do paperwork with him later."

"Yes, sir."  He walked him down to his lab. "Hey, Hodges, Grissom and Greg are here.  My ex, the serial killer, is out but Ray has her.  They got shut down for building violations."

"Doesn't surprise me with all the surveillance," he said, nodding at Greg.  "The twit screamed at the sight of blood.  She had to ask Xander how to do a standard test."

"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head.  "Well, I'm here for six months.  Same as you're doing. I still say Sarah pissed off the inspector so he shut us down because of her.  Speaking of, where's the baby?"

"She had puppies, she's up on Stan's desk with the new in-laws.  I've got to send Stella flowers," he said, going to do that from his computer.

***

Two days later, Stanley looked up as his ex wife walked into the precinct, looking very confused.  "You got Xander'd," he said fondly.

"How did you know?  And what does he mean?"

"His puppy Sarah had puppies with Dief, who I'm dating the daddy of."

"And that makes us in-laws?"

Stanley opened his drawer to show the small horde of dogs nestled in his bottom drawer.  "You're my ex, they're my grandkids, that makes you in-laws," he agreed.

"Stanley, do you remember when I called your D&D friends odd?"  He grinned and nodded. "I was wrong.  Keep these new and odder friends far, far from me. I don't even want to talk to him about cases, all right?"

"Sure, but he's the second down there now."

"Then the city will fall into a big, black hole and we'll all be out of our misery."  She stomped off.

Xander looked over at her. "I promised to help those events so the city doesn't have to bend over and grab its ankles," he said with a fond grin. "Don't worry, it won't happen anytime in the near future, Stella.  Do you need anything from any of the cases?  We'd doing a filing thing tonight.  I'll need a list."

"I'll email it," she said gruffly, escaping before he could turn her odd too.  Stan, her poor Stan, was gone now.  Nothing could unwarp him and she'd miss him, but she wasn't going to get sucked into Xander's sphere of influence.  It was like a cult and she had never been a joiner. Poor Stan, she'd miss him stalking her now and then.

Xander giggled, grinning at Stan, who was howling and rolling around on the floor.  "You owe me lunch," he said happily, coming in to take his dogs back.  "Hey, guys.  Where's Nick and Warrick?"  The mommy barked and got off them.  "Ah, there they are.  Under the females.  Of course.  That's just like them. Come on, let's go back downstairs.  Daddy's nearly done for the day.  Then we can go to a convention and see everyone," he said excitedly. "You'll like seeing your namesakes."  He led them down the stairs, letting Hodges load them into the carrying case.  "Now you guys behave.  Water bottle?"

"In there."  He carried it out to the car, getting in to drive.  Xander had picked up bad driving habits from Ray and Stan.  They were all packed and all they had to do was leave.  If the hooker would quit sitting on the hood of the car.  He beeped and she grinned back at him.

Xander stuck his head out the window.  "Honey, we don't like your gender.  Can you please move the extra hole before we have to turn my car gay too?"  She got up with a laugh.  "Thank you, love, and remember, no working the parking lot.  They can find you at the pizza place easier."  She strolled off and he rolled back up the window as they took off.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem, Xander.  I'd like to see how you made the car gay."

"Park it really closely between the Riv and the GTO?" he asked with a grin.

"No, that'd just make it envious," he offered. He got them onto the interstate, not wanting to be downtown when the rush happened.  The conference was in their city so they were hosting a party for their friends later that night.  They had to go home and pick up.   They found Greg had already done that and picked up the food they had ordered and let everyone in.  Hodges walked in with the carrying case while Xander got their briefcases. "No hugs, let me put down the dogs."

"Did you raid the pound?" Catherine teased.

"No, Diefenbaker and Sarah got into it together.  We're still not sure how that mating happened since she's so small and he's not.  They're pretty puppies though."  Sarah gave him an odd look.  "Like I know why the deaf wolf liked your namesake?  Oh, Nick, watch out for yours.  He likes to hide under shirts and cuddle, but mostly on women still."  He put their briefcases in the office and came out to help remove the puppies, finding the last two hidden in a fold.  "Are you guys sick? You're always hiding," he said, rubbing noses with them.  He counted.  "One's missing."

"I've got him," Sarah said, holding him up.  "He came over to pee on me."

"Chrétien does that a lot," Hodges admitted.  "He loved doing it to Grissom."  He sorted them out, giving everyone their namesake and holding the others himself. "No Brass?  He promised he'd be here."

"He is, he's shopping," Nick said, looking at his namesake. "Hey, little guy.  You are a guy, right?" he asked, checking to make sure.

"We usually do name gender appropriate names," Xander pointed out.  "Catherine, your little girl there likes to lay on top of Warrick's head.  Nick's likes to hide under shirts.  Or under the mommy."

"At least he's straight," Nick offered, smiling at his puppy.  The dog yipped and licked his fingers, then settled in to nap on his chest.  "Too much excitement?"

"They like to hang out in Stan's desk during the workday," Xander told them.  "They get to bark at the stupid people."

"That's always fun," Greg said dryly.  "I like to bark at the stupid people.  By the way, you missed region one's director."

"On purpose," Xander agreed happily.  "What did he want pulled out of his ass this time?"

"The moron signal tower," Hodges said dryly.  "He said it's unfair that we have such a well-qualified team and he had to make due with the academy people."

"He can recruit," Xander said dryly.  "We did."

"It's beneath his Armani loafers."

"Yeah, well, Ray's look better on him and he still managed it."  Someone knocked.  "Open."  Brass stuck his head in.  "Come meet your namesake. We named a kid after you.  Not sure if he's first born or not, but he's still adorable."  He handed that one over with a grin.  "There you go."

"You are cute," he offered, patting the small thing.  He handed Xander the bag he was carrying.  "Here, since you're putting up with those two."

"Not a problem.  We like putting up with them," he said happily, looking inside the bag.  He blushed and handed it to Hodges, who looked and shook his head, going to put it in their bedroom.  A football shaped pillow.  Definitely appropriate for Xander to pounce on.

***

Xander looked at the artillery lecture panel, then raised his hand again.  "Have you ever fired off one of those?  The recoil is fifty pounds per second and the thing weighs nearly two hundred pounds.  It's supposed to be vehicle mounted for a reason, dude.  It's fun to shoot off, and it makes the prettiest explosion I've seen recently but it's a mounted weapon.  You'd need a harness or something and that would make it easier to catch them."

"Who are you?" the woman on the panel asked.

"CSI Harris.  Local, region two.  You trained my successor for my internship."  She smiled at that.  "It's still too heavy to not be mounted.  Not too many people can hold two hundred pounds on one shoulder."

"How can you?" she asked.

"I worked construction."

"Ah."  She nodded.  "That makes sense. You're stronger than I am.  I still pound nails with my shoe."

"You can get some good pressure with a stiletto.  We've seen people killed with them by holing their skull with one."

"Yeah, me too," she said, pushing some blonde hair behind her ear.  "If what he says is true, then it's not really an applicable point to this discussion.  We're here about shoulder mounted or carryable artillery, boys."

"Fine, what's your favorite?" the offended person asked snidely.

"I'm for the tried and true.  Surface to air rocket or LANS rockets."

"Oooh, pretty," Xander agreed happily.  "Personally I like grenade launchers and claymores.  You can carry them, you just have to have a bag.  They're not that heavy and even if you misaim, you still hit something and cause a lot of damage.  Besides, for vehicle mounted, I prefer the smaller sidewinder systems that're just now being put into use.  They're smaller, more compact, and they have a bigger bang for the buck.  Plus you can reload on the go since you have more than one missile tube."

"Definitely," Calleigh agreed happily. "Plus they're small enough to fit on a jeep or out the side of a van."

"The exhaust could blow the other side out.  You'd need a dual doored van," Xander offered.

"Point, but I've seen it done."

"So have I, but the body damage was very telling.

"Well, yeah, but if crooks were smart it'd be harder to catch them."

"That's so true!" he agreed, leaning forward.  "We had a guy with a grenade launcher walk up to the front of our precinct and stand there for a good ten minutes trying to figure out where he wanted to hit.  Finally, the cops got tired of watching him be odd and called me and I came up and showed up how to put up the little scope, then took it from him.  He whined all the way up the stairs because I spoiled his fun."

"What do you like in assault rifles?" another ballistics tech asked.

"AK's," they said in unison.

"Good range, easy to fire," Xander told him.

"Easy to buy bullets for and practical in street warfare."

"Uzis have no range," Bobby agreed from the back of the room.  "But you see a lot of them."

"They're cheap and easy to find," Xander reminded him.  "You guys are on the major north/south drug and gun highway, Bobby.  Here we get Canadian ones."

"We get Cuban and South American ones," Calleigh said with a small shrug and a grin.  "They're kinda neat.  A lot of them are taped closed and totally unusable."

"We get some of those but more hunting related stuff.  Those guys who need to shoot fifty rounds a minute at a squirrel to feel like manly men," he said with a grin. "With armor piercing bullets if possible."

"We get some of those going after the gators. Poachers are just as dumb most of the time.  We get some of the most under-educated people in the world as poachers."

"We don't have wildlife here, but I hear from some Mounties that they get about the same sort, but mostly it's for food.  Every now and then you get the rich, stupid people who've been partaking of the moron signal tower's vibes too often.  Moron magnets who carry their hauls into town and expect the locals to not care."

"That's so disrespectful," she complained.

"Of them?" Bobby asked. "I've heard him call them worse."

"No, the hunters of the locals.  Hell, I'm going to start using that expression back at work.  Where'd you get it?"

"From one of my teachers at UCLA."

"Cool.  Thank you.  I think we've got a big ol' moron signal tower in the center of Miami some days, centered in the rich part."

Xander grinned.  "We get some of that too, but I don't have to deal with it.  I have poor people crimes, but Vegas got some truly stupid people who thought the slogan 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' meant they could do anything they wanted and we'd never look."  Bobby laughed and nodded.  "Hey, Bobby, man, when's the wedding?"

"Next week.  We're going to a small chapel before work and just bringing in the picnic lunch.  She said she didn't want anyone there."

"Sure.  I'll get a nice present for you."

"You interned under him?"

Xander nodded, grinning at her.  "Your fisher girl was his last intern and his future wife.  She followed in my glorious footsteps."

"She did, but he never hit on me thankfully," Bobby said dryly.  "Xander, do I have a puppy?"

"Yeah, he likes to pounce Nick and nibble on his tail for fun."

"Oh, good.  Was I the last one?"

"No, the prime ministers got named last.  The last one was Tupper.  The prime ministers came from the in-laws.  The daddy's side of the family."

"You have a dog?" Calleigh asked.

"Yeah, she's lounging on the couch with the dogs, laying on the remote until it flips to Oprah.  She does it about every day we leave her and the puppies home.  We come home to Leno."  She giggled at that.  "She's a very liberated dog.  Her former owner started a skin graft procedure and then attached balls to her.  Poor Sarah is just like her namesake some days.  Very tough and bossy, yet guarding what's hers with terror and barks."

"I'm telling her you said that," Bobby said dryly.

"Go ahead.  I don't work for Vegas anymore.  Ha!"  He looked back.  "Some day I'll take over a lab and they'll all be like me!"  He added an evil chuckle on the end.

"When that happens, I want tape of the programming you've got to do to them," Bobby told him.  "Just to see how you make other men think football is like gay sex."

"Excuse me," she said, hurrying out before she had an accident. She almost made it too but she started to laugh, fortunately it was only a small one and easily covered up.

"So, we now know that Las Vegas, Chicago, and Miami are full of odd techs," another tech noted dryly.  "Any other cities we should beware of recruiting from?"

"We train our interns fully, dear," Xander said with a fond smirk.  "Ours come out knowing how to do the job, do it quietly, do it excellently, and even run the lab if they have to.  Personally, mine also gets some field time in now and then too so they're reminded why they're matching bullets and guns."

"You came in over trained, Xander," Bobby told him.  "He's also got demolitions, construction, artillery, and trace work under his belt.  When I ended up with a personal problem, he stepped in to fully run my lab."

"How is your mom?"

"In full remission.  They told her yesterday.  I'll tell her you said hi."

"Good, give her a hug for me too.  She deserves it for beating that nasty cancer."

"Thanks, Xander."

"Welcome."  He grinned back at him and winked.  "Wanna come see your puppy later?"

"Sure.  How odd are they?  Sarah was a miniature something."

"Diefenbaker is mostly wolf.  He works with a Mountie."

"You guys have Mounties in Chicago?" the New York guy asked.  Xander beamed and nodded.  "Why?"

"Consulate's up the street."

"Oh."  He nodded. "That's understandable.  Does he drug or bomb sniff?"

"Mostly he Happy Meal and fried chicken sniffs, but I like to have him help me track idiots who ran.  Our favorite game is 'fetch the mugger'."

"I'll have to remember that one for later."

Bobby laughed.  "You're so bad, Xander.  Corrupting Mounties now?"

"I am not," he defended.  "They asked me if I wanted to jump countries though."

"I can't see you being a Mountie.  You'd look odd in the uniform."

"Yeah, I figure it'd be like I looked in the cop uniform when I was stripping to get out of a town."

"Probably," Bobby agreed.  Everyone stared at him.  "Post high school road trip.  He broke down."

"It paid the bills and to get the car fixed," Xander said with a shrug.  "Besides, strippers are good sources of information.  People tell them all sorts of stuff for no reason."

"That is true," Calleigh said as she came back.  "Sorry about that."  She took her seat again. "So, carryable artillery.  Um, next topic?"

"I think we've about covered them all," the discussion chair offered gently.  "Let's all go get lunch, guys, and ladies."

"Sure, I could eat.  Xander, is there a good steak place around here?"

"Sure there is," he agreed happily.  "Bobby, join us?"

"Sure, Xander."  He followed him out, grinning at her.  "You did an excellent job with Bethany."

"Thank you," she said proudly.  "I knew she'd be special.  I'm the first CSI she ever saw working and she took notes."

"She told me," he agreed.  "Let me call her.  She's in the self-defense seminar."

"They're already out," Greg called.  He held up a dog.  "This one snuck into my bag."

"He's a naughty prime minister," Xander agreed, taking his dog.  "Did you want to go to class, Mackenzie?  Shame on you, sneaking away from the mommy.  She must be very worried.  Did you call the house?"

"I did.  He said Mackenzie is the only one missing.  Lunch?"

"Steaks."

"Great.  I'll get Bethany and Hodges."  He went to do that, getting Brass as well.  They all went to the steak place, the dog comfy in Xander's pocket.

"Can I see?" Calleigh asked.  The dog was handed over.  "You're an adorable mixed up puppy, aren't you?" she asked happily, rubbing noses with it.  The dog licked.  "Very loving too."

"They're all lab trained," Greg told her.  "Born under the mass spec."

"You get to take her into the lab?"

"She never touches anything in a bag, a box, or a file.  She mostly steals lunch from the detectives," Xander offered, putting him back in his pocket at someone's dirty look.  "He's not even weaned yet and he snuck off."  He looked at her.  "So, how's Miami this time of year?"

"Hot.  Humid.  Nasty.  The same as it about ten months out of the year."

"We'll have snow soon and I'm looking forward to seeing it."

"I'm hoping it's while I'm here so it cools me down," she said with a grin for him.  "How did you lab train her mother?"

"She took right to it.  The closest she ever got was crawling into my desk chair to lap at my coffee.  Squirt gun worked wonders.  The pups all come in with us every day to lay in either a drawer to watch the idiots upstairs try to play stump the detective.  Or they come down and lay in a corner of my ballistics lab.  Their momma barks each time I have to do a test fire.  Not in protest, just a happy little bark."

"She does.  It's distracting," Greg agreed. "DNA's across the hall from him."

"Padding's not thick enough?"

"Some padding, insulated glass walls," Xander told her.  "With curtains for when I'm having a cranky day."

"How do you handle those now?" Brass asked.  "More random swearing?"

"No, those are the days I get to follow Greg around to pick up guns and shells.  I occasionally go wax Ray's car for him.  Once I painted it pink with washable paint because he had picked on me that morning."

"That day he got to scrub his car," Greg agreed dryly, smirking at Xander.  "Escaping prime minister."

"Mackenzie," Xander snapped.  The dog came trotting back and nuzzled his leg.  "Let me take him outside for a minute, just in case."  He used his belt to create a leash and took him outside to use the plants.

"Her mother is also house plant trained for times when we can't walk her fast enough," Greg offered.  "Though she does occasionally go in desk plants and once in a flower vase because the chief wouldn't let Xander take her out for four minutes while he was being yelled at.  Those roses did not prosper from her help."

"I bet," she agreed with a smile, taking the puppy back when she came back.  "How old are we?"

"A few weeks.  Our DNA intern took one look at the blood and screamed, running away from it."

"I'd be more scared of semen," she said, considering it.  "With all the gross things we deal with daily, blood isn't the worst."

"No, it's not, but some of us still have weak stomachs.  That's why we went into guns," Bobby offered.  "Bethany," he said happily, getting up to help her into a chair.  "Honey, you remember me talking about Xander.  This is Xander.  That's his puppy Mackenzie.  He snuck off."

"Ooh, you're adorable," she said, pinching Xander's cheek.  "And so's the puppy."  Her future spouse looked at her.  "He made Hodges ungrumpy, I like him for that alone."

"I did," Xander agreed.

"Let's not go into why Hodges is ungrumpy," Greg said dryly.  "If we did, we'd have to talk about all the evil women who wanted to play with you."

"I haven't had one since two weeks after I got here," Xander said proudly.

"You're dating a guy, I'd hope not," Brass said firmly.

"I picked my diss topic because of you, Xander.  Hormonal responses to behavior modification methods."

Xander grinned.  "Good!  I expect to be a chapter."

"Oh, you will be," Greg assured him. Brass laughed at that.  "How many stalkers did he end up with?"

"Twelve, fourteen, something like that."

"Yeah, just because you danced with them, or went to dinner with them."

"Man, you didn't even have to sleep with them?" Bethany asked.

Xander shook his head.  "No.  Those ones turned really evil.  Hey, Cap, how's your daughter?"

"Plotting a way to get you back.  Still.  She's working to earn enough money to afford you."  He took another sip of his water. "He kissed her. Well, she kissed and groped him," he admitted.  "In a club."  The waiter brought their food and he accepted his plate.  "Thanks."

Xander grinned.  "Thank you, Agent Ford.  Did you need something today?"

"No," he squeaked, heading off again.

"Local Feeb," Xander said dryly.  "Which case is it this time, Greg?"

"Paternity.  They had us run it last night.  Mob case."  He dug into his steak, eating heartily.  "I missed breakfast," he explained at the amused looks.

"Did Xander actually cook?" Brass asked.

"Hell no," Xander snorted.  "Xander can still not cook.  Hodges can cook very well though.  Plus Ray's Ma still likes me.  She demanded babysitting rights for the puppies."

"I always knew she was a sensible woman," Brass agreed.  He looked at Calleigh.  "This guy has never cooked.  He can't cook.  He lives on takeout, literally."

"Some people can't.  Usually they marry chefs."  She grinned and stole the puppy back so it could sit in her lap and lick the juice off her fingers.  "You're so adorable."

"Up for adoption," Xander offered.  "As long as he gets a good home."

"We'll see.  I work really long hours too."

"They refuse to let me work them anymore."

"That's because you nearly died, again," Greg said firmly.  "Eighteen hour days," he told their visitors.  "For months on end.  Had pneumonia and worked through it the same way.  Came out when we got bombed by the jealous person, who by the way was a stalker of yours going after me.  She thought we were together too, Xander."  He blushed and ducked his head. "He came out to do the case for us, volunteered and rushed out with his momma dog.  Totally flummoxed the nurses because she kept stealing their snack cakes and donuts."

Brass laughed at that.  "At least she shared with her pack."

"She did, she brought us a donut to share, me and Hodges since we were in the same room and Xander was sleeping in a chair between us," Greg said dryly, making Xander blush more.  "He solves ours, brings Hodges and me back to heal here, and then we find out what he's been doing.  A week off and he starts to black out.  His body's decided it's had enough and it's going to take over.  He's going to finish a real nap or else.  And what does he do?"

"Protest that it's not anything and that you're fussing?" Bobby suggested.

"Yup.  Hodges and I either had to crawl in bed to keep him in it or handcuff him to it if we needed to be up and at work.  He still kept trying to get up and go to work."

"You needed me," Xander defended.

"Yes, but we needed you alive," he said with a fond grin. "Just like now.  So no more stupid stuff."

"Yes, dear," he said meekly, grinning at him.  "I'm fully house broken now."

"Did the spray bottle work on you too?" Calleigh teased.

Xander nodded. "Very well."

"Hodges cooks so therefore he gets to make the rules," Greg said with a smug grin.  "He's now working eight or ten hour shifts and being good most of the time."

"That's okay, he got plenty of mischief out while he was with us," Bobby reminded him.  "That 'confused with the Xander' look used to be epidemic at times."

"Only when we tried to explain sports to him," Brass reminded him.

"Not my fault I was raised by girly girls," Xander mumbled, blushing so hotly now he could feel it radiating.

"Guy can't dress himself so he matches but he can discuss the most delicate detail of fashion with the ladies," Brass told their visitors.

Greg nodded.  "Goes shopping with Ray and talks him into buying this one suit.  Looks wonderful on him.  Light peach, slightly darker shirt. Looks marvelous on him, makes him glow.  Xander, well, he was wearing a hawaiian shirt and jeans with old sneakers again," he admitted.

"Some people are like that," Bethany agreed.  "I don't care what I'm wearing as long as I'm covered."

"I don't care much about clothes," Xander assured her. "Only the stuff for work and my sterile packs."

Calleigh grinned at him.  "Can you help me find something for the dinner, Xander?"

"Sure.  Price range?"

"Cheap."

"I know just the place," he promised with a grin.  "They're even used to Sarah there because I had to help Ray's Ma shop recently."

"Sure, you, me, and the puppy will go."  She looked down and the puppy gave her the most adoring look.  "You're so cute," she cooed.

***

Calleigh walked back into her unit, the puppy in her pocket snuggled in.

"Couldn't find a lunch box?" her boss asked, making her jump.

She grinned at him and pulled out the puppy.  "Isn't Mackenzie adorable?" she cooed, beaming at him.  "He's also lab trained by his daddy.  He knows just how to behave.  He's very protective of me and tried it bite someone who wanted to feel me up at the dance."

"The last time I knew you weren't a socialite who had to travel with a small dog so she'd have someone who spoke on her intelligence level," he said patiently.  "Lab trained?"

"Yeah, his daddy's a ballistics tech up there.  He was born under their mass spec and he's been around the office and the labs his whole life.  He was in my artillery board but this little one snuck out to meet me."  She smiled and patted him, putting him back in her pocket.  "He knows not to go near anything that looks like evidence.  He's also plant trained and outdoor trained.  He's a very good boy."

"He's still not allowed in the lab.  Even the ballistics lab, Calleigh."

"But, Horatio!"

"No.  No dogs in the lab.  I don't want to take the chance of him contaminating something."

"But I've brought him in every day since we got back a week ago and he's been perfect so far," she said with a smile.

"Wolfe found a dog hair.  He's not that perfect."

"He wasn't in his lab!"

"No, he was in the garage."

"Well, yeah, he went to cheer up Alexx yesterday.  So far he's been very good. Please?  He's cute and small and he fits in my pocket."

CSI Wolfe, the new guy on the unit, came out to look at the dog.  "I only found one of your hairs in this whole complex," he said, petting him behind the ears.  "You're very tiny."

"His daddy was a ballistic's tech and his actual daddy was a deaf mostly-wolf who works with the Canadians."

"So his father was Xander Harris," Horatio said dryly.  "And his actual father must have been Diefenbaker.  I met him during a lecture.  He came over to steal my danish."

"He does that.   This one's mom and he teamed up to steal the detective's food from their desks."

"Theft is still theft and it's wrong, and he's still a dog and can't be in here.  Take him home."

"He's too small to be left alone."

"You should have thought of that before you adopted him."  He looked at the dog.  "Sorry, little guy."  The dog growled at him. "That won't help you."

The dog jumped down and went to bark at the person sneaking up on them with the sharp, pointy thing.   He knew those were bad, his mommy had said so.

Horatio turned and disarmed the woman, getting her onto the ground.  He looked at the dog, who was wagging his tail happily. "Good dog," he praised.  "When you're older you can train to do that."

"He's a CSI dog, it's in his blood.  Come on, Mackenzie, let's go to the locker room.  Maybe Alexx is in again."   He trotted after her, wagging his tail happily the whole way.

"He's actually a very smart dog," Wolfe said.  "Must be the wolf part of his heritage."  He grinned at his own joke and headed off.  The dog had stayed out of his carefully controlled area so he was all right with him.  He noticed the dog in his lab but it was under a machine staring at him.  "You stay there."

"He was born under one of those," Calleigh said as she came in.  "He's been fully lab trained by his ballistics and trace tech daddy."

"Wow.  Double major?"

"Major and minor."

"Really wow.  Very different fields too."  He looked down at the dog, who was watching everything he did.  "He seems very smart."

"He is."

"Is that a rat?" someone called from the doorway.

"Sic him, Mackenzie," Wolfe said.  The dog came out and attacked the pantsleg, making the guy scream and run away.  The dog barked a few more times then came in to rub against his mommy's leg and hide again.  He knew gloves meant she couldn't pet him but he'd get some later.  "He is very well trained," he said in awe.

"Good boy," Calleigh said happily.  "He knows that gloves mean petting comes later too.  His daddy taught him very well."

"Wonderful.  Absolutely wonderful.  Is he planning more litters?"

"I don't know.  This one was an accident."  They got down to work.

Horatio stopped by a few minutes later with the poor guy that had been attacked.  "Calleigh," he said patiently.

"I didn't tell him to."

"He called him a rat and he's obviously not.  I wouldn't let a rat into my lab.  Mackenzie is very well trained. He even knows he won't get petted while she's wearing gloves."

"I'm impressed, but it's still a dog in the lab.  Dogs carry germs and hair that can get on evidence."

"He can also save her life and yours," Wolfe defended.  "Besides, I found a single hair in the garage from a canine sample.  I'd have to compare it to his to see if they matched but the color was wrong now that I've seen him."

"I brush him every day right before we come in," she promised.  "He doesn't shed that much.  His mommy does bark happily when her daddy shoots test rounds."

"I'd expect as much from a ballistics dog."

Horatio looked at them.  "If you can convince the chief detective to let him stay, he may.  But the first time he compromises evidence he goes.  Got me, you two?"

"Sure," Calleigh agreed.  She took off her gloves and her dog came out, letting her pick him up and pet him.  "Eric?"   He came closer and the dog sniffed him then sneezed.  "Tacos for breakfast again?"

"Busted," he said happily, giving him a little pet.  "You're adorable."

"I know," she said happily.  She walked out to find the chief detective, finding him in the break room.  "Frank?  Detective Salas?"  They both looked and smiled at the dog and her happy grin.  "He saved Horatio's life today and he tried to protect me and Wolfe from Eric.  He's a very good boy, he doesn't shed a bit, and he's lab broken and plant trained if I can't get him outside.  Horatio said the final decision was yours."

"Lab trained?" Detective Salas asked, letting him sniff her fingers.  She got a happy yip and petted him.  "You're very cute."

"His daddy was a ballistic and trace tech at the convention.  He was in my artillery board.  This little guy was born under a mass spectrometer and he's been around a very busy precinct ever since.  He's stayed with the detective now and then and in the lab.  His daddy taught him what not to touch and where not go and to not come up for lovies while the mommy's wearing gloves. He taught him how to use plants if I can't get him outside fast enough and he's very possessive of me."

"Caine must be having a heart attack," Frank said dryly.

"Yes, but then she saved him from the knife woman earlier."

"I heard."  The detectives looked at each other.  "As long as he stays trained and nothing gets tainted."

"It won't," she said happily.  "Thank you."  She smiled at the small redheaded girl coming in.  "Hi.  How are you?"

"That's a pretty dog.  Can I pet him?"

"Sure."  She let the little girl pet her.  The dog sniffed and then looked back at the detective, who raised an eyebrow.  The dog sneezed and snuggled back in, accepting the attention.  "There you go.  You have fun today and behave.  I'll tell Horatio that you're here."

"Thank you, Miss Calleigh."  She smiled at the detective.  "Hi."

"Hi.  Horatio said he was taking you shopping today.  That you're starting school?"  The girl nodded, beaming at her.  "I know you'll do very well.  You seem very smart."  She patted her on the head.  "You can wait in here if you want."

"Thank you, Detective."  She went in to sit at the table, looking very proper and calm, only her feet swinging since they didn't touch the floor yet.

Frank noticed his fellow detective watching her and leaned closer.  "Why is that look so familiar?"

"It's a family trait," she said quietly, going back to her desk to think.  Not that she wanted to think but she needed to think apparently.  She also apparently needed to hit her former brother-in-law for keeping this from her.  He was probably trying to be nice, but she'd still hurt him over this.

Ballistics in Danger

Greg looked up as Catherine came into the lab he was working in, giving her a faint smile.  "It's hard finding these things."

"It can be," she agreed, looking at the shirt he was working on.  "GSR?"  He nodded, going back to what he had been doing.  "You know you've got to have the plans for the dinner auction in tonight, right?"  He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it over.  "Thank you, Greg."  She looked at it and smiled.  "Nice choices.  Did you get your tux yet?"

"Not yet.  I was going to go Saturday since I've got it off," he admitted sheepishly.  "That way it's not too far in advance and I can't get nervous."

"Don't be nervous.  Think of it as a chance to stun some rich woman with your mind and body.  Get tight pants, we need the money this year after the repairs."  She looked at the shirt again.  "It's only got four stains."

"I've found eight," he offered.  "Two different types of GSR according to Hodges.  Two different chemical compounds and strengths basically.  I'm guessing different caliber bullets?"

"You'd have to ask Bobby or Xander about that.  Remind him I need his dinner plans tonight and take him to get that tux too since I know you've got the day off together again."

"Yes, Catherine."

"Good boy, Greg.  Make us proud and make us a lot of money."  She patted him on the back and headed out, going to put his choices on the log for the auction and go back to working on her intros.  She ran into Archie, who sighed and handed over his plans.  "Thank you, Archie."

"As long as you never mention that blackmail again," he said firmly.

"Sure, until next year," she offered with a grin, heading back to her office.

Hodges peeked out of his lab.  "She *blackmailed* you?"

He nodded.  "She found my wallet in the locker room and found my baby picture.  She's holding it hostage."

"Oooh," he winced.  "Poor guy.  At least you're not alone.  There's Warrick and Greg too."

"And Xander."

"He's still avoiding it," he said smugly.

Archie snorted and walked into ballistics.  "Xander, what's your dinner for the auction?"  He got given that pitiful look.  "Fat chance," he snorted. "I've got to do it, Greg and Warrick have to do it.  You have to do it.  Pick somewhere and make a reservation."

"What if they're busy the night I have reserved?" he asked.

"They won't be," he assured him dryly.  "We all heard about the salsa dancing thing."  Xander moaned and hung his head, shaking it.  "Tough, deal with it.  Pick somewhere classy that you can be embarrassed in."

"What happens if they're my next stalker?" he asked miserably.

"Then at least we know who it is before they get too far along in their delusion," he said, clapping him on the back with a grin.  "You're doing a great service by weeding out those questionable people in society."  He went back to his lab.  "Hodges, remember, he needs a tux too."

"Why do I get that one?"

"I've rented a tux before," Xander called.  "I did go to my prom.  I just looked like a dork."  Hodges stuck his head into his lab. "I did.  Even for the aborted wedding I looked like a dork."

"We'll see soon enough," he offered.  "Pick one of the places at the Forum."

"Fine," he complained.  He found a phone book and opened it randomly, closing his eyes and stabbing a finger down on that page.  He looked and snorted.  "Emeril's."

"Good choice, good selection, not greatly expensive but nice," Hodges offered.  "Now pick a backup."  Xander flipped the pages and did it again, making him laugh.  "Burger King?"

"Deli."  He did it again and shrugged.  "Not too horrible.  A Southern place that just opened by one of the local's casinos."  He wrote those down and handed them over.  "Here, you can deliver the method of my doom to the smiling and happy torturer and slave auctioneer."

"It won't be that bad," Hodges pointed out.  Xander just gave him his 'get real' look.  "It won't!  I promise it won't."

"It will and I'm going to give the department a bad name."

"You won't.  Even if you mess up and eat everything with your toes, they probably expect it."  He went to hand that to Catherine, shaking his head at her amused look.  "He picked randomly.

"They're not bad choices.  I've eaten at that second place.  Very homey and nice."  She noted it down and grinned at him.  "Tux?"

"He claims he's done it before.  Sic Greg on him."

"I already did but he's dragging his feet too."

"That's because men should be known for more than their pretty bodies," Hodges quipped, going back to work.  "You make us feel cheap, Catherine," he called as he walked away.

"Hey, there's women in there too," she complained.

***

Greg knocked on Xander's door, nodding at the car in the parking lot.  "Let's go. You're driving."

"Must I?"

"Yeah, if I have to, you have to.  She said so.  So let's do this and get it over with."

"Fine," he complained, grabbing his keys and wallet to head down to his car.  "How did you get over here?"

"Cab.  That way you can't escape by jumping out of the moving car."

"I hadn't thought about that," he said dryly.  "Thanks for the idea, Greg."

"Fat chance, Xander.  We'll be auction buddies.  Do the hair and stuff the day before together and those things."

"Manicure, pedicure, facial, skin treatments," he sighed.  "This is going to be really expensive, even if we do home treatments."

"We have to do all that stuff?"

"Yeah.  To look our best.  I did before my prom and I still looked like a dork."  He got in and started the car, buckling up while Greg got in.  "Seatbelt."  Greg buckled up and he backed out, heading for the nearest tux shop.  "Should we do good tuxes?"

"Yes, we probably should," he agreed patiently.  "Head to Tropicana."  Xander groaned and nodded, heading that way.  "Thank you, Xander."

"Welcome.  Are we doing our care stuff at a professional or at one of our places?"

"Doesn't much matter to me.  My skin's pretty good.  I use a moisturizer now and then and always use sun screen."

"Which is good," Xander agreed, "but you've also got oily spots and an ingrown eyebrow hair on the left side."  He changed lanes and signaled to turn onto Tropicana, wincing as the lights came on behind him.  "Damn it."  He pulled over once he had turned and turned off the engine, rolling down the window.  "Please tell me it's because I'm on call for something like a bomb?" he asked the officer walking up to them.

He looked at him.  "You're a cop and you don't signal?"

"I forgot, I was signaling for the turn," he offered, "and I'm a ballistics tech."  He gave him a weak grin.  "I'm angsting over the auction."  The cop snickered as he took the held- out license.  "Really.  I'm going to end up giving the department a bad image."

The cop wrote out the ticket and handed it over with the license.  "I'm sure you will, sir."

"No he won't," Greg complained.  "He's hit on all the time in clubs.  Women offered to pay him the last time.  Don't let him get away with that BS."

Xander shrugged and sighed.  "I'll pay it when I go in to work tomorrow."

"That's fine, you've got a month, sir.  Have a nice day.  Good luck getting a decent tux."  He went back to his car, chuckling the whole way.  At least it was an odd stop and not dangerous.  He heard a gunshot and ducked, and noticed those two got out and the ballistics tech was armed.  "Sir, um, techs don't usually....."

Xander held up a hand.  "I'd get out here!" he shouted.  "I can hear you giggling, bitch!"  A woman came out with a rifle and he and the cop both pulled their guns.  "Put it down!"  She continued to giggle.  "Now," he growled, his eyes narrowing.  She giggled again.  He walked over there, slowly and carefully.  She continued to giggle and he moved within touching range.  "Do I look like I'm kidding?  I haven't had caffeine yet."  She giggled and beamed at him so he kicked the gun's barrel and then knocked her down, holstering his weapon while the officer jogged over.  "I'm having a bad day," he growled in her ear.  "This means I'll have to work on your gun later and I'll get to destroy it by chopping it into tiny little pieces and making desk art out of it."  She moaned and arched up against the officer's thigh.  "Eww.  I don't go for the deranged."  He looked at the officer.  "Just don't tell Brass," he complained, almost pleading as he hurried back to his car.  He zipped off, Greg just staring at him with an open mouth.  "What?" he asked defensively.  "Ray said I needed to work on my badass image."

Greg pulled out his phone and looked at the number he had only recently put in there, calling Hodges.  "We're going to the tux shop on Tropicana, no, the other one.  Come meet us.  Because Xander just had to pull his weapon on someone who shot at the car during a traffic stop.  Besides, he's still whining."

"Hey, I'm not the one who made her pant and get horny when the officer had her in cuffs," he complained loudly.  He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, getting out to head inside.  The salesman smiled gently at him.  "I'm in a damn bachelor auction against my will," he complained.  "I look like a dork in a tux.  Can we minimize it this time?"

"We can try," he offered gently, leading him back to the fitting area.  "What size are you?"

"Thirty-four long."  He sighed and sat down.  "I hate these things."

"I understand.  Basic and demure black I'm assuming?"  Xander shrugged.  "I'll see what I can find that should look good on you."  He smiled at Greg as the other salesman came rushing to help him.  "A friend?"  Xander sighed and nodded, looking miserable.  "Let's try some of the nicer ones, shall we?  Do you have a budget?"

"Under a grand?"

"For that you can almost buy one, sir."

"Ewww.  I hate tuxes."

"Fine," he said kindly, going to look for him.

"Don't listen to him, he's being a whiner," Greg told him.  He looked over as Grissom came in, shrugging.  "We're doing as Catherine ordered.  Bullet didn't hit the car."

Grissom looked at him, then over at Xander.  "Are you sure?"

"Ricochet off the back bumper, Gris," he said darkly, still scowling.  "How did she blackmail me into this again?"

"It's your innate sunny nature," Greg said firmly.  "Get up, try something on.  No more whining."

"Fine," Xander complained, heading over to help the guy look.  He tossed Grissom his keys.  "Here, in case you need to turn off the alarm."

"Thank you, Xander. Your gun?"

"I didn't have to fire," he defended.

"Now.  You don't need to be armed today. You might shoot Greg.  We'd miss Greg."

Xander muttered something and handed over his gun and his backup weapon, taking the first tux to try on.  Greg grinned at Grissom.  "Thanks, Gris."

"You're welcome, Greg.  I'll let Catherine know about this.  The officer said he didn't want Detective Brass to know?"

"Yeah, Cap tends to ride him but Vecchio told him he had to work on his badass persona for up there.  Apparently he thinks it'll be needed."

"I see.  Interesting."  He went to check the car, just in case, and brought back the keys a few minutes later when he found the ricochet mark.  He kept the guns.  Xander could have them back when he came in to work.  He really might shoot Greg.  He saw Hodges pull up and get out, heading inside shaking his head.  "Hodges, he had to subdue someone."

"Greg said he did.  He complained that it wasn't him making her pant too."  He waved a hand.  "See you tonight, Grissom."

"Sure."  He laughed once Hodges was inside, going back to the scene to check on Catherine.  "Xander's car is fine," he told her.  "Ricochet only.  Took off about thirty degrees to the rear."

"Good.  Is he still mad?"

"I took his guns, Catherine.  I figured we didn't need you or Greg shot for this auction thing."  He went to put those in his Tahoe, that way he could find them later.

She shivered.  She hadn't seen Xander as being a badass before, but now.....  "And I had to piss him off," she muttered.  "Oh well, everything's printed."

***

"What is that?" Hodges asked, looking at the puddle of green goop in the bowl on Xander's counter.

"What's what?"

"That," he said, pointing at the bowl.

"Face masque to pull out the oil and balance out your skin."

"Why?" he asked patiently.

"Because I need it and Greg needs it," he said impatiently.  "If you were part of this farce, you would too."

Hodges looked at him, then shook his head.  "Most guys wouldn't go to this much trouble."

"I'm not most guys and I do know how to get ready for a real date, Hodges.  Especially the important ones.  At least I had someone else doing my manicure and pedicure earlier. That way I couldn't screw those up."

Hodges shook his head quickly.  "You're insane."  He went to get a soda out of the fridge, bringing one back to Xander.  "Where is Greg?"

"On his way.  He was taking a nap."  He put down the fashion magazine and looked up, taking his soda.  "Thanks."  He heard the car pull up and got out, going to check on who it was.  "Get up here," he called.  Greg came up with his tux bag, slipping past Xander.  He shut the door and locked it, hanging Greg's tux in the bathroom on the shower rod. Then he came back out and helped him push back his hair so they could start the beauty stuff.

Hodges just watched in fascinated horror.  He'd never seen anyone do this, not even his sister, and she was a girly girl.  Xander even knew how to nibble while the mask hardened so it wouldn't crack prematurely.  He was almost afraid for his masculinity just because he was watching these sacred girl rituals.  Somewhere there was a Sacred Temple of Girlhood that had a screaming priestess because Xander was showing them the sacred rituals.  Oooh, and there he was starting on Greg's nails.  He let out a soft whimper.  "I'll be right back," he offered, heading out to get some air, and maybe a beer and a shot, or possibly a boxing match or a football game to reinforce his masculinity.  He went back in when Greg yelled, then hurried off for that beer when he saw the tweezers going at it in Greg's eyebrows.  He seriously did not need to see that.  He came back an hour later to find them both dressed and looking handsome, in a rental tux sort of way.  Neither tux fitted perfectly but Xander had pinned something on Greg's and was adjusting it so it hung better.  Then he stood in front of his bedroom mirror and worked on his own until it hung perfectly.  Hodges handed over the tracking device Xander had requested for the night.  "Here," he said gently.

Xander slid it into his inside jacket pocket then patted his lapels down again.  "Bad?" he guessed at their looks.

"No, good," Greg offered.  "Thanks for the fitting, Xander."

"Not an issue.  How much longer until we go to our dooms?"

"Um, an hour.  We're due there in half an hour."

Xander nodded and went to brush his teeth, covering his chest with a towel so he wouldn't get spit on it, then came back out to drive them in.  He had the better and bigger two-door.  He slid in and buckled up, turning on the engine.  Hodges tapped and handed him his keys and wallet, giving him a smirk.  "Can you be back there with us?"

"Hell no, she might corral me into helping," he said dryly.  "Have fun.  Let me know how it goes.  Call later, boys."  He waved as they left and went to clean up Xander's apartment for him.  That was just so bad.  This way he could purge more girly things out of Xander's life.

***

Greg drug Xander into the room the department had rented for the event, then pushed him back to the waiting area.  Sarah saw them and smirked.  "Come on, Xander, it's for a good cause," she wheedled.

He glared at her.  "Then you come find me when I get stolen."

"Sure, not a problem," she agreed happily.  "Captain Brass said you had requested a tracking device.  Got it on you?"  He patted his pocket.  "Good."  She carefully pinned his number on his lapel pocket.  "There you go, all set.  You can primp behind the stage if you need to.  Most of the guys are fussing with their hair."

"He did our hair," Greg told her, walking Xander that way.  "Come on."

"But it'll be bad," he whined. "Besides, I feel like a cow going to slaughter auction."

"I promise, whoever wins you won't want to hurt you.  At least not until the end of the date," Greg assured him, patting him on the shoulder.  They ran into Catherine, who smiled and took pictures, making Xander growl.  "He's going to break it," he warned.  She hurried on.  "Come on.  It'll be fine."

"It won't be fine," he snapped.  "I'm not a cow."

"You're not.  You're a stallion being put out for stud among some thoroughbred mares," Sarah said gently, coming over to soothe him.  "See, Archie's right there and Greg's right here.  You're not alone in this and no one would *dare* interrupt this event to hurt you, Xander."

"Bullshit," he said firmly, going to check his hair and skin one last time.  He could hear Catherine setting up out front.  He was still hoping for an armed and dangerous group of assassins or stupid hostage takers to come break into the evening so at least then he'd be in his element.  "Can't I just *donate*?" he asked as Sarah came back.

"No, Xander," she said patiently.  "We've checked, there's no thieves coming to save you or anything either.  We made sure of it."  She adjusted his number. "You're in the middle of the pack, you'll go for a little bit and it'll be a nice evening with a boring lady who'll hit on you."

"I don't want to," he hissed, glaring at her.  "Think about everything that could go wrong with this idea!"

Archie came over and leaned against Xander's side, whispering in his ear, getting him to calm down.  He looked at Sarah.  "You're making him panic, don't help."  He fussed with his hair.  "I'm before you, I'm like third out.  Watch what happens, play up to the crowd of women like it's a club.  Go out there and be the surly badass you are, Xander," he said gently.  "It'll be fine. Someone will bid on you and someone will want you for dinner.  Who knows, they might even try to pay you again."  Xander groaned and banged his head against the wall beside the mirror, making Archie catch it.  "Nice try to get me out.  Thanks."  He heard his name be called and handed off the mirror to someone else, taking Sarah's arm so she could escort him out onto the stage.  He didn't get many bids but he hadn't expected that many.  He wasn't as pretty as Greg and this wasn't an area where he got a lot of dates anyway.  He smiled and handed his rose to his date for the evening, walking down to sit at her table with her, flirting shamelessly but gently and skillfully.

Catherine smiled at the crowd when it was Xander's turn.  "I know you've seen a lot of smart men tonight, and this is our last tech of the evening, ladies.  Xander Harris is our ballistics intern.  He's the future of the labs and quite adorable.  He admits he knows nothing about cooking, but cleans and shops very well," she offered with a smile as Sarah led Xander out onto the stage.  "He's also proficient in many weapons of mass distraction and has been known to turn many a lady into a pile of goo at the clubs.  He's very eligible, very cute, very smart, and very shy.  He says dangerous women love him for some reason but what he really wants is a woman who'll help him by cuddling and being soft and gentle with him.  Our intern, Xander Harris.  Who's going to start?"  No bids and she mentally groaned.  "Come on, ladies.  He's twenty-seven.  He works out.  He's very bright and has a wonderful dinner planned for your pleasure.  He's a world-class flirt, tries his hand with me all the time."  Still no bids and she looked at Xander, who gave them a shy grin.

"Fifty," one woman said quietly.

"Okay, good.  I have fifty.  Anyone else?  Who wants one of our rising stars in the world of law enforcement?"

"He subdued a shooter just a few days ago," Sarah offered.  "Made her moan so hard she gave up and begged for the cuffs."

Catherine gave her a look.  "She's not the first either.  I've seen him charm suspects into begging to be arrested, as long as he's got the cuffs and the night stick."

"Sixty," another woman offered.  She stared at him.  "Put your hands in your pockets, dear."  The other women giggled when he blushed but he did so.  "Hmm, well hung."

Xander looked at her, then smirked.  "Yes, but it's not that sort of date.  I did take an oath, my dear.  I wish I hadn't, but I do have to serve *and* protect.  Otherwise more women might go bad from my touch."

The first bidder looked him over.  "Eighty."

"Great," Catherine agreed.  Still the lowest of the night.  "Anyone else?  Going once, going twice...."

"A hundred," an older woman offered genteelly in a southern accent from the back of the room.  "Such a dangerous young man can only do my reputation good."

Xander smiled at her.  "I'd never whisper a word of what happened, letting you tell everyone whatever you wanted them to know," he promised with a small, evil smirk.  She laughed and nodded at that.

"A hundred.  Going once, going twice....   He's yours for the night, ma'am."  She handed Xander his rose and he walked down there to her side, handing it to her and kissing the back of her hand.  Someone had shown that boy very well how to charm.  She'd have to thank Hodges and Greg for that later.

***

Captain Brass walked into the unit the next night, looking at the boxes behind the reception desk, then at Warrick.  "No Xander?"

"Not yet," he said grimly.  "He's an hour late.  He didn't call.  Hodges called his place last night and didn't get an answer."  He paged Catherine, getting Sarah, who had a paper already for him.  "Xander's?"

"Greg's actually.  He hasn't come in yet.  Xander hasn't?"  She looked, there was the pass.  "Damn.  I'll go get his."  They all watched as Greg stumbled in, leaning against Warrick as he moaned.  "Long night?" she asked dryly.

He looked at her and handed Brass his doctor's excuse.  "I'm going home," he said firmly.  "Before I puke on her and Catherine.  Xander?"

"No answer at home," Warrick said, looking down at him.  "Just don't hurl on me."

"I won't."  He wobbled back out, heading back to the cab.  He was in no condition to drive.  He hadn't felt this bad since his freshman year of his undergrad.

Brass looked at it, then snorted and shook his head. "I'll hand it to Grissom.  Allergic reaction to something he ate."  He looked at Sarah.  "Go get Xander's."

"Sure."  She went to look it up, coming back with it for him, running into Grissom at the desk too.  "Here, the person who probably has Xander."

Grissom looked at it.  "Can't be.  She's on the table.  Has been since two pm."  He looked at Brass.  "Tracking device?"

"Going for the monitor," he promised, heading that way.  This was not a good thing.  Not at all.  He liked the kid, he'd hate to have to tell someone he had died.  He came out with the monitor and found Greg back there.  "Why aren't you home?"

"Um, fire next door.  Firemen said I couldn't.  I'm going to the break room for a few hours to nap."  Grissom nodded, getting out of his way.  "Thank you.  I love you, man."  He wobbled that way, letting Warrick help him.

Brass turned on the monitor, then sighed.  "He's not on it.  It's got a thirty mile radius."

Sarah took it and headed out to the Tahoe she had checked out for the night.  "Get me a list of her properties.  He's probably on one."

"Unless the person who shot his date took him instead," Brass snapped back.  She turned to glare at him.  "Oh, no you don't."  He went to take it and do it on his own.  He didn't like her attitude and she'd pick on the kid when it was her fault.  He should drag her and Catherine along, just so they'd never do it again.

Grissom looked at her.  "Go get Catherine, start a search in case he needs it," he patiently ordered.  She sighed and nodded, going to do that.  He rolled his eyes and checked the boy's messages, finding an interesting one.  He called Brass. "Jim, we should have checked his messages.  Someone said he's worth more than a hundred bucks and he's not going to be given back to those who don't appreciate him.  Plus they'll turn him straight.  No, not signed.  No address given.  Whoever it was tried to quit for him."  He hung up and put that note into an evidence bag, just in case.  Chain of evidence was everything after all.

***

Xander looked up as the door opened, nodding to his left.  "Demona's in there."

"Demona?"

"Demona Bradley.  She's napping off a snort."  He looked behind him.  "Hey, Kelsey.  This is Jim Brass. He's one of my bosses.  You really probably don't want to hit him with that rock, dear.  He'll get really grumpy."

"He's kinda cute, in an old fart way," the sorority sister said, knocking him out anyway.  "Pity.  I'm sure someone around here can use the castoffs.  Is he yours?"

"No, honey.  I told you I'm not gay."

She snorted.  "Your skin's flawless, your hair is artfully arranged using just the right amount of mouse and your fingernails are perfect, try again, honey."

He shrugged as much as he could.  "All I had growing up were girls.  One geeky girl and one cheerleader girl.  Then eventually one geeky girl, two cheerleader girls, and a lesbian witch."

She rolled her eyes.  "So let me guess, you were their ken doll?"

"In everything but the clothes, yeah.  I only played packmule and listening device when they were shopping.  Please let me go?"

"Fat chance," she said sweetly, going to get up the other sisters.  They had been found, they'd have to move him again.  She heard the guy on the floor moan and came out to knock him out again.  "And stay down, grandpa."

"Actually, he's only got a daughter your age," Xander offered.  "Then again, I know mothers who are your age.  His daughter wanted me to do her too.  Can I at least go to the bathroom?"

"We'll see."  She went to talk to the other sisters, getting one to release him and let him use the toilet, with her waiting outside the room just in case.

Xander pulled out his earbud and his cellphone, plugging it in and dialing the station, getting Hodges for some reason.  "Sisters of Delphi," he said quietly.  "They've knocked out Brass.  I've seen fifteen of them."  He hung up and put away the system, he didn't want to make them suspicious.  It's not like they had patted him down or anything but Catherine had said he couldn't come armed to this thing.  He washed his hands and walked out, allowing himself to be tied to the comfortable chair again.  He had decided a few hours ago this was somehow payback for when he used to tie Spike to recliner, but at least it wasn't an uncomfortable chair.  Jim was put onto the couch and bound there, then the sisters went back to their meeting in the kitchen.  "Hey, Cap?" he asked when he heard the groan.  "You okay?"

"I hate women."

"Yeah, I don't particularly feel like liking them because of the sorority sisters either," he said dryly.  The captain looked back at him.  "Sisters of Delphi.  Cat told them they couldn't get together and all bid on one guy as a group so they kidnaped me."

"What about your original date?"

"Stroke I think.  Scared to death.  I beat one bloody there."

"Grissom saw."  He grimaced and wiggled until he was sitting up.  "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, so far.  No one's tried to kill me yet.  They think I'm gay and that they're going to cure me, but whine."  He beamed at the girl coming in.  "I really am straight."

She snorted.  "I bet."  She looked at the captain.  "At least you're not terminally old and ugly, just slightly old and used looking.  I'm sure we can find a sister who'd want you.  Maybe one of the new novitiates."  She patted him down, finding his wallet and gun, putting one aside while she looked in the other.  "Captain Jim Brass.  LVPD."  She looked at him.  "Which department?"

"CSI.  I help run their unit.  Xander's my intern."

"Ah."  She shrugged and tossed his wallet down.  "We'll still keep him but you'll only be here until you're no longer fun.  It's been seen."

Brass looked at Xander.  "You ever try yelling?"

"Yeah, but they've got sound proofing and they showed me the pit where they keep their holy snake who supposedly helps them with their visions for papers and tests."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "Have I mentioned recently I hate your former life?"

"Not recently, but they're not Seers.  I knew a few of them for the Powers That Be.  They're not these girls.  These girls are sorority sisters who think they have a clue."

The girl with them snorted.  "I've been down to Out of Focus."

"Gee, they don't allow me in there because I'm from Sunnydale," Xander told her.

"We know.  We were asked to pick you up," she said brightly.  "They can have you once we're done with initiations.  Then you'll be fine and straight again."  She skipped off, literally, going back to the kitchen.

Xander looked up.  "I've had enough," he sighed.  "Really.  Any time now.  SWAT is good."

"I left word when I found you," Brass offered.  "Someone's on their way."

***

Hodges walked into room where everyone was meeting and cleared his throat.

"Not now, Hodges," Grissom ordered.

"Fine, I won't tell you what Xander said when he did a ten second phone call just now."  Everyone stared at him.  "The Sisters of Delphi have him and Brass.  He said they knocked Captain Brass out.  He said he saw fifteen of them."

"Delphi?  Like the old oracle of legends?" Warrick asked.

Hodges nodded.  "Yes.  They're a small cult up at the college."  He handed over one of the papers he carried.  "They're a group of former sorority sisters who found solidarity in their delusion of being Seers, though they only use it for papers and on tests."

"Hold on, if he called, he's got a new cellphone.  It's got to have GPS," Catherine offered.

"Archie already thought of that," Hodges noted, handing over the other paper he carried.  "He called from that tower, which narrows it down to two blocks.  Yes, the transmitter is still working, and can be found on other monitors."

"Thank you, Hodges," Grissom said.  "You've cracked this one."  He followed the head of SWAT out the door and to his Tahoe to follow them to the scene.  They could trace the signal on the homing device.  He pulled in behind them, getting into the back of the van to listen while they scoped out the building with a parabolic dish.

"You do know that the original oracles were virgins, right?" Xander said tiredly.  "That they had to stay that way, or else?  That they could be put to death for not being one?"

"That's so impractical in today's world," a snotty sounding female snorted.  "Today's seers aren't like that."

"Well, not all of them, but if you're Delphi the next generation, you should follow all the rules," Xander said dryly.  "Including only taking one petition for each person over their lifetime."

"Plus not using it for personal gain," Captain Brass said, sounding like he was in pain. "Get off me!  Before I have SWAT kill you."

"They're not coming," the snotty girl sang.  "They have no idea where you are."

"I called them before I got here," he said dryly, and then you heard a crack.  "Ha!"

"Nice headbutt, cap.  We'll make sure you get an ice pack when we're done."

"Thanks.  I could use it.  She's got nothing but air in there and still has a hard head."

Xander snickered.  "Think I'll get into this sort of trouble in Chicago?"

"I hope not, for Vecchio's sanity."

"He told me he learned how to pick locks on handcuffs thanks to Benny."

"Don't pick up his bad habits," Brass ordered.

"Sure, Cap.  I'm hungry!" he yelled.  "If you don't feed me, you can't rape me later!"

"We go," Grissom said firmly.  The SWAT guys boiled out of their truck and knocked in the door, running inside to get those women.  Grissom walked in after them, looking at his people.  "Hi."

"Hey, boss.  Can we stop to get a milkshake on the way to the station?"

"Sure, Xander.  Let me cut the ropes."

"Please."

He freed them and walked them out to the Tahoe, letting them get inside.  One of the guys would drive Brass's car back.  That's the way these things worked.  Grissom looked at Xander.  "Are you able to give a report?"

"The stupid bitches jumped my date in her driveway as I was dropping her off.  She had a stroke, I think, and fell down twitching.  I'm guessing if she's dead it's from fright.  They grabbed me and put fuzzy handcuffs on me, but also gassed me somehow. I woke up there, I started to yell, they showed me their snake's lair, which is really gross since it's dead and stinking.  It's under the third bedroom's closet, there's a trap door down there.  They stand over it to get fumed.  They brought me back and tied me back to the chair, told me I was going to be used to initiate some people and for their fun because they wanted to make me straight, even though I pointed out I was straight."  He shrugged.  "Then a few hours later, Cap came in.  He got knocked in the head with a rock.  Twice.  They tied him up and tried to get a good look at him when you guys broke in so they could give him to some of their novitiates who were still pure."  He looked at Brass.  "Is this one of those beer times?"

"Definitely," he agreed.  "We'll hit the sports bar after we give statements and get some beer and cheese fries while we watch hockey or something."

"Curling?"

"If it's on," he sighed, nodding.  "You'd like hockey, it's on ice.  Lots of Canadian's play it, and it's got a lot of violence."

"Yeah, but it's always interrupted by stupid broadcasters on ESPN.  Every ten minutes there's a broadcaster telling me about baseball or something."  He shrugged. "Not my sport."

"Why didn't they frisk you, Xander?"

"Oversight, they thought I was harmlessly gay."

"Okay.  Let SWAT clear the house and then we'll head back.  I'll get Catherine and Sarah this house to process.  They'll love the snake, I'm sure," he said fondly, smiling at him.  "Greg had an allergic reaction to something last night but he's fine.  He's got today off too."

"Sure."  He watched as SWAT started to lead the happy squad out, sneering at them. "I so wanted one of my usual women to bust in there and break their plastic surgery chins.  Or fake boobs."

"Now, now.  No being mean, Xander," Brass chided, giving him a look.  "We can't be vindictive.  That way leads to vigilantes."

"I'd have to help catch them anyway," he said dryly.  "It'll be a weapon and I'll have to see it.  It's not like they'll use stakes."  He looked at Grissom. "One did mention that they knew I was from Sunnydale and some of my former friends had asked for me to be sent to them."

"That's fine, we'll tell the FBI that so they can talk to them," he promised with a small smile. "Are you both okay?"

"I could use an ice pack," Brass offered. "That was a hard rock and then I headbutted."

"I'm fine, I just need chocolate and caffeine."

"Then we'll head back to the station with you," Grissom promised, heading that way.  "Xander, we'll need your clothes for trace."

"Yay.  I've got stuff in my locker.  It's got to go back to the rental place."

"That's fine.  We'll send it to them once we're done with it and be careful with it."  He started the engine and drove off, heading back to the station, with a quick stop to get the poor guys a milkshake.

***

Brass ate another fry.  "Thank you for letting the sheriff down easily."

"It's not his fault he hasn't got a clue," he said dryly.  "I'm hoping it's because he's so busy."  He ate a bite of his burger, shaking his head.  "I can't believe he wanted me to stay  and work tonight.  By the way, I did remember to tell him that you were kidnaped as well, that way you could have tonight off too."

"Thanks, kid," he said with a small smirk.  "Too bad you couldn't get Hodges off."

"Ehh, he's going to get to take it out on them."

"Probably true.  You nearly done?"

Xander finished the rest of his burger and paid for their lunch, then wiped off his mouth and finished his soda, following Brass out to his car.  He'd give Brass a ride home then head out for some fun.  He smiled at their waitress and nodded back at the table, making her smile and nod, giving him a pat on the arm because he always tipped well.  He turned off his alarm system and got in to drive, looking at him.  "You sure you don't need to stop to get something for your head?"

"I've got stuff at home.  It's not the first time someone tried to cave my skull in with something blunt and heavy."  He watched as the kid backed out, looking at the traffic ticket on the dash.  "He didn't cancel it?"

"Nope," Xander said dryly.  "Remind me to pay for it tomorrow when I come in."  He headed for Jim's apartment, waiting while he hiked up the stairs once they got there, then headed for one of his favorite clubs.  He needed cheering up.  He looked at the bouncer, who only stared at him.  "What?"  He turned, finding a woman in leather behind him.  "Hi.  Do I know you?"

She pulled a gun.  "Do I care?"

He groaned and rubbed his forehead.  "Listen, sweetie, I'm a ballistics tech with the PD.  I don't make shit.  I've already been kidnaped today by some sex-deprived, stupid sorority sisters.  I don't need this."

She snorted. "I bet.  Name?"

"Harris.  CSI intern Harris."  Her eyes went wide.  "SWAT came after me earlier.  Want to meet some of them?"  He looked around, waving at the cop parking.  "Hey!" he said with a grin.  "She's in a bitchy mood."

"I can see that," he said dryly, walking carefully closer.  "Ma'am, please put it down."

"No!  He's mine!"

Xander looked at her.  "Honey, I'm not yours.  If you had *asked* I might have had sex with you in the bathroom, but not now. You're not worth the effort I'd use getting a blow."  He rolled his eyes and looked at the bouncer.  "Can I go in and destress now?"

"Sure.  Go ahead," he said, eyes still wide.  He opened the door, letting the poor guy in.  "Um, ma'am, this club is run by a cop's brother.  You're not going to like what's going to happen to you."

The cop called it in and then pounced her, getting her down with the gun under her body.  That way he couldn't be shot.  More cops came up.  "Gun's trapped under her," he reported.  Two more cops waded in and grabbed an arm each, pulling them out and making her drop the gun while the first one sat on her back.  "I just met CSI intern Harris," he reported to them.  "He's inside.  She tried with him first.  He's apparently had a very bad day?"

"Yeah, SWAT had to rescue him and Jim Brass earlier," one of them said dryly.  "Sorority sisters who formed a sex cult or something."  He donated his cuffs to the cause and they drug her to a squad car.  He took off his hat to wipe off some sweat.  "Where is the ballistics intern?"

"Inside.  Destressing he said."

"Having sex in the bathroom?" the second cop asked dryly.  The others just nodded, grinning at him.  "That's fine.  We'll go get his things in a few minutes."

***

Xander came out of the station for the second time, this time in his last outfit from his locker, except for his sterile gear.  These jeans were worn soft and thin, and the t-shirt hung off him.  He got into his car and sped off before anyone he knew noticed it was him again.  This time the club was a bit darker.  It was nearly dusk and he wanted to be somewhere darker and more fun.  So he walked into an out-of-the-way vampire bar and right up to the bar, putting down a fifty.  "I need a bodyguard for tonight.  I'm going clubbing and I'm tired of being snatched."

The bartender looked at him.  "You've got cajones," he said in awe.

"I'm a Knight.  My balls are bigger than your head and made of steel.  Please?"

"Sure.  Male, female, demon, vampire?"

"Vampire's fine.  Either's fine with me.  Female would probably have more fun."

"Okay."  He looked around, then whistled and pointed at someone, bringing her jogging.  "He needs a bodyguard tonight."

Xander looked at the blonde in front of him.  "Harmony."

"Xander?"

"No shit," he said dryly.  "I'm going clubbing.  I've already nearly been stolen twice today, once by sorority sisters who had formed a cult of seers."  She snickered at that.  "Seriously.  I'm also a cop.  I'll pay you fifty for the night.  Just make sure I don't get taken or eaten."

"What if I want to eat you?" she asked, vamping out and lunging.  He slapped her, making her pout at him.  "That's mean!"

"Harmony, you knew me before I was a Knight.  I'm not that nice any more.  Really."  She sneered and he looked around, pointing at the biggest, oldest feeling vampire in there.  "You, name?"

"Petrie," he sneered, sniffing him.  "Human?"

"Harris."  The vampire backed off. "Harmony here seems to think I'm as weak as I used to be when she knew me while she was human."

He looked at her, then at him.  He leaned closer.  "She's really from there?"

"Yeah and she's a former cheerleader and airhead," he said dryly.  "Followed Angel's seer Cordelia for the longest time as part of the bitch pack."  The vampire rolled his eyes.  "I'm paying fifty for a guard to make sure I'm not stolen or eaten tonight.  I've had enough for the day."

"Fifty's low but I can handle that."  He snapped his fingers, bringing a young woman to his side.  "Follow him around. He's not to be stolen, eaten, or harmed."

Xander grinned at her.  "After the cult of sorority sisters earlier, I'm tired of it."

"Fine."  She took the money off the bar.  "We're cabbing or driving?"

"I'm driving.  I'll even take recommendations."  He led the way outside, letting her in before going around to drive.  "Thank you," he sighed when he got in.

"Not a problem.  We heard about it on the news."  She smirked at him.  "You're not afraid of me?"

"Nope.  I had sex with Faith once."

She gaped at him, then nodded slowly.  "You've got balls, my friend.  Big, huge, brass ones."

"Steel, please.  Brass is a friend of mine."  He grinned at her.  "He's my boss."  He started the car and headed off into the darkening night.  "Where to?  Any ideas?  I'm banished from Hellmarks for nearly being kidnaped again today."

"Hmm."  She considered it and what he was wearing.  "The Zone?"

"Oh, hell no.  The last time I went there I got paid."

She chuckled, looking out the window.  "I know of a great spot.  Next set of lights, take a right."  He nodded, turning on the blinkers to do so.  "You're really proper about doing that."

"I got a ticket the other day and I work for the PD."

"Ah."  She nodded. "Cop?"

"Ballistics intern."  He made the turn, again using his blinkers just in case the cop car behind him was going to get him.  "I hate it when they do that.  Now where?"

She glanced back, then at him.  "Next left, then a sharp right. It's a little hidden club.  Non- demonic."  He nodded, slowing down with his blinkers on to take that turn, heading as she said.  He found the parking lot and parked, looking at her.  "We're here."

"The parking lot?"

"No, the building," she said, pointing at it.  She got out and followed him inside, letting him pay the cover too.  Then she drug him out onto the floor to get him started.  She had heard...rumors about him and his style.  She wanted to see if he danced as good as she heard he loved and fought.  It wasn't long before she was shoved out of the way by some dyed blonde woman and had to make due with what she could observe.  The person she was dancing with gave up on her when she stopped, sniffing in the Knight's direction.  He had smelled of lust, the same as his partner still did, but now he smelled of fear.  She walked around the woman and took him by the arm, leading him up to the bar.  "Are you all right?"  He hissed in her ear.  She nodded and went back to take that one out, leaving her blatantly out back by the dumpster with her gas canister beside her.  She adored free lunches.  She was even nice enough to walk around the other side of the building and talk to the cops.  "Hey, guys?" she said, smiling at them.  "I just found some chick laying beside the trash with a gas canister in her jacket.  You guys might wanna go check her out."  They got out and followed her back around, then she ducked back inside to get lost.  She took Xander off to another club, this one safer.  There she got to watch him be hit on by all the pretty little girls and given odd things.  She wasn't sure what he'd do with a gold velvet bustier, or what the girl would do without her top, but he seemed to appreciate it. The same as he did the mood necklace and the rings he got tucked into his pockets.

***

Xander walked into the station and into Doc Robbin's back, giving him a sideways look.  "What?" he asked cautiously.

"Come with me, young man.  It's time we had a short talk."

"Sure.  Let me get my pass and messages."

"You won't want to read them.  I do believe Jim Brass swore at you on a few of them."

"Oooh."  He took them anyway, glancing through them. "Only one."  He followed him back to the autopsy room, holding the door for his elder since it was appropriate.  A bit of sucking up never hurt.  He found Jim in there.  "Hey, Captain Brass."  He looked at the body, then at him.  "What?"

"You skipped out on your bodyguards last night."

"My bodyguard last night told me she saw a dead body.  I wanted out of that club."

"Uh-huh."

The ME looked at him.  "Why is this victim missing all but two pints of blood?"

Xander considered it then looked at Brass.  "I went to a place like Out of Focus to get a bodyguard," he admitted.  "She kept me from anyone trying to steal me again, except Hodges when he found me late last night."

"Uh-huh," he repeated.  "Vampire bodyguard?"  Xander nodded.  "Then did you know she attacked her?"

Xander shrugged.  "She tried to slur at me that she had some gas, I told her to go outside. I danced off, letting my bodyguard shoo her away.  I paid her fifty bucks for helping me."

"You couldn't keep her from hunting?" Doc Robbins asked.

Xander shook his head.  "Not unless I wanted to pay a lot more."  He looked at him.  "How did you know?"

He snorted.  "I know, kid.  The same as I knew who you were when I heard your name."

"Cool.  Yeah, I did have a vampire bodyguard.  She nearly ate Hodges."

"He said she made a joke about being full," Brass reminded him.  "This is not good, Xander."

"Sorry."  Xander looked at the body.  "Want me to pull out the stuff for a reanimation?  Or since she'll be walking out tonight, did you want me to deal with that then?"

"She will be?"

Xander looked at the mouth, then at him.  "Tell me that's not blood."

"She bit her tongue."  Xander gave him a long look.  "We only found her blood in there."

"Good!" he said happily.  "She still had a gas canister."

"And your hair was all over her," Brass said dryly.

"I was at a club, I danced with her.  I'm sure mine wasn't the only hairs."

"No, it's not," Brass sighed.  "Go wait in Hodges' lab for me, Xander.  We've got to figure out what to...."  He backed away from the twitching body, shaking his head.  "Now."

Xander looked at him, then at the doctor.  "Want a stake?"

"No, I have one."

"Interesting," Xander said with a grin.  "From where?"

"From college, when I roomed with a Watcher."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "Very interesting.  I'll take my beating if I must but I wasn't being bad."  He ducked out, heading back to Hodges' lab, giving him an odd look.  "Brass said so."

"Why?" Bobby asked from the doorway.

"Because last night after I left for the second time I went and found a vampire bodyguard but one of the people I danced with was a threat and she got eaten."

Bobby shook his head.  "Huh?"

Hodges looked at him.  "I think that's the first time he's had the 'confused with the Xander' look so far," he congratulated.  "Very nice work, Xander.  At least she didn't eat me too."

"I told her not to."  He sat down on his usual stool, looking at the pile of work.  "Am I allowed to help?"

"No, most of this involves you," he said dryly.  "Which of the sorority sisters rubbed her naked crotch on your pants?"

"Not a clue.  I must have been unconscious during then."  He shrugged. "I hope she didn't get me personally."  He heard a yelp and stood up, coming to the door but Brass was rubbing his shoulder as he walked down the halls.  "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  The Sheriff walked in to check on the case."  He gave him a long stare.  "He wants to know how you explain why she doesn't have a pulse and she's walking around."

"Tell him the truth."

"He's not that believing."

Xander walked in there, tapping the vampire trying to eat the sheriff on the back of the head.  "Don't do that.  He signs my paychecks."

"Who are you?" she growled.

"I'm a Knight.  As in the one who hunts creatures like you."  She backed away from him.  "Now, you can be a good little vampire, or I can kick your ass.  Your choice. You wouldn't be the first being staked in this precinct.  I staked a mentor, I can stake you."

She sniffled.  "You're mean!"

"No shit," he snorted.  "You're a sorority sister, aren't you?" he sneered at her continued crying.  "One of the Delphi chicks?"  She nodded again. "Then I should stake you on general principles."  He pulled his out and twirled it around before palming it.  "Your choice, lady."

She sniffled and looked at the ME.  "Can't you protect me from him?"

"You had nerve gas in a club full of kids.  I'm not protecting you from Xander."

"Xander?"  She looked at him.  "I heard about you.  We were supposed to pick you up for your friends after we returned you to being straight."

Xander rolled his eyes, and that's when she lunged. "I am straight, I just have taste.  I don't date the stupid or the dead."  He kicked her off and looked at the sheriff.  "Can I stake her?"

"She's a criminal!"

"She'll burst into flames the first time outside anyway," he offered as he fought.  He grabbed a scalpel and used it to stab her in the chest, making her grab it and hiss.  "Your choice, sheriff."

"Stake her, Xander," the ME ordered calmly.  He nodded and staked her, then dusted his hands and his stake off, then his jeans.  "Thank you."

"Welcome.  Need a broom?"

"No, I have a swiffer, they work very well for these sort of things."

The Sheriff looked at Xander in awe.  "How did you know to do that?"

"That's my former life, sheriff.  It's like reincarnation for me.  By the way, I didn't tell or order my bodyguard last night to eat her or turn her.  She was apparently just tasty.  I told her to lead the woman off and do something about her, but not to eat or turn her."  He put his stake back up and went to wash his hands and dust off his jeans again.  "Gods I hate Fledges," he complained in the locker room.

"Baby birds are nice," Nick complained.

Xander looked at him.  "Not that sort, Nick."  He went pale and nodded, then backed away before walking out.  Xander went back to cleaning up, then headed back to the labs.  He stopped in Brass's office since he heard Grissom in there.  "What am I doing tonight since Hodges is working on the kidnapings from yesterday and Bobby's done already?"  He looked at the two older men.  "Also, the sheriff was being attacked, the ME gave me permission."

"To do what?" Grissom asked. Xander handed him his stake.  "How many weapons do you carry on you?"

Xander grinned at him.  "Wanna frisk me?"

The sheriff walked in and turned the boy around, staring at him.  "I don't want to know," he said after a deep breath.  "I have no idea what happened.  There was no body there.  I was not attacked, nothing like that happened to you last night or yesterday."

"Then that cult goes free," he noted calmly.

"No, not them.  I want them to stay."

"She was one of them."

"So?  I didn't see anything."  He held a hand to his throat.  "How...."

Xander walked him back to the locker room, pulling out his small first aid kit and sitting him down to wash it with holy water and bandage it.  "There, it'll look like an odd shaving cut tomorrow, just what it was," he said gently.

"Thank you.  When you're gone...."

"Brass knows where to go for help."

"Oh, good," he agreed weakly.  "He's never getting a vacation again."  He got up and wandered off.  "Go back to ballistics, Harris.  You're needed there."

"Sure, sheriff.  Thank you."  He put up his first aid kit, heading back there shaking his head.  "I was told to come bug you?" he asked dryly.

"How was the auction?  Before the kidnaping?"

"I felt like a piece of meat.  The women there wanted me to show off my dick first, and I still only got a hundred bucks for being treated like a specimen under a low powered microscope."

Brass walked into the lab with a red envelope.  "I have no idea, it just showed up as a delivery," he offered, handing it to Xander.

"If I *ever* have to do another one of those, I'm going to kill the whole room.  Do we see me doing that?" he asked dryly.

"Kid, if you had brought more, we'd ignore it, but I've already told Vecchio about last night and today.  He's agreed, you're never going into one again.  Open it, I wanna see what that was."

Xander opened the envelope, then blinked at the check inside.  He pulled out the folded note and read it, then shook his head.  "Here, a donation," he said, handing it over. "Consider it the rebuilding fund."

Brass looked at the note, then groaned and shook his head.  "She's dead, I'm not sure we can do this."  He went to talk to the PR department about this.  They knew all these rules inside and out and were used to covering up for cops who got into trouble.  Apparently a few others had other envelopes sent later with 'tips' from the dates, including Sanders.  Greg had donated his without even doing more than glancing at the note according to the gossip he heard at the front desk.  He looked at Patricia, waving it.  "Xander too," he mouthed.

She beamed and nodded. "I knew he would.  By the way, I just got a call asking if he was on duty tonight or if he could come out salsa dancing with her again.  She wanted her best friend to meet him, maybe they'd hit it off."

"Ask Grissom.  There's nothing in ballistics and only his cases in Trace at the moment."  He continued on, shaking his head.  That boy did liven things up.

Grissom poked his head into ballistics.  "Xander, did you want to be here tonight? You got invited out on a date to go salsa dancing by one of your groupies and we still have nothing to do and you're still over hours for the week."

He grimaced. "I like my hours just fine, Gris, and it's not like you have to pay me for them."  He gave him a long stare.  "I'm sure I can be useful around here."

"Go," Bobby said firmly, pulling the kid up and handing him over.  "Make someone go with him.  Just make him go.  I'm already done unless something new comes in.  He can't help Hodges because it's his kidnapings.  Go, Xander.  Maybe you'll meet a nice woman."

"Maybe I'll end up being paid for breathing again too," he said dryly, shaking his head.  "Fine.  If I must."

"You must, and I told you to stick to sixty hours a week, no more," Grissom told him.  "Otherwise I'm going to have to start sending you home.  You're overworking yourself and it's not allowed.  I'll have to tell Chicago on you."

"And they'll cheer," Xander said dryly, shrugging.  "It means I can pull full time with them plus overtime."  He walked off, going to get into his car so he could change and then go salsa dancing.  He walked into the bar about an hour later, smiling at the bartender.  "Hola."

"Hola," she purred, pointing at a corner table.  "Back there, Xander.  She described you perfectly."  She handed him a drink with a grin.  "You'll need it.  She's a fierce one."

Xander winked and strolled back that way, skirting the edge of the floor.  He nodded at the ladies.  "Did you summon me from a night of no-work?" he asked politely.

"I did," one of them said, looking at him.  "I know you from somewhere."

"As do I, great Stella."  He pulled her up and out onto the floor so they could talk.  "I'm the new ballistics person.  Stan's been showing me around with Ray."

"Ah."  She nodded.  "Then you do know who I am."

"Very well.  He mooned and drooled over you."  He spun her out as a new song started, then pulled her back and dipped her, dancing her off, making her drool.

"He's mine."

"He's mine."

"He's mine."

"He's mine, bitch, get over it!"

"No, he's mine!  And you're the bitch!" two women started to fight.

Xander cleared his throat.  "Ladies.  The music of love is all about passion, but please, do not waste it on those who could not appreciate the sweaty nature of your energy and passionate responses to your partner.  Fighting with her just wastes emotion better spent later on in the dance or with a mate in bed."  He winked and danced his future DA off.

"That was smooth."

"Thank you, Stella."  He dipped her again, pulling her up after a small semi-circle of waving her around.  He winked at her and she swallowed.  "I'd never take what was once Stanley's.  He'd get upset with me and then pout."  He walked her over to the table and helped her back into her seat, taking her friend out onto the floor.  She was stolen by a Latino man who only smirked at him.  He shrugged and turned, finding one of the two fighting women staring at him.  He held open his arms and she rushed forward, letting him

show her what passion was about.

***

Greg walked into the salsa bar and looked around, then headed for Xander, hauling him up and with him.  "Sorry, ladies, but we need him back at work to study more guns.  We've had a problem and his lunch break is over."  He nodded politely at Stella and her friend.  "Say good night, Xander."

"Good night, Xander," he quipped, waving and blowing kisses.  He followed Greg out to his Tahoe, getting in.  "Thank you for saving me," he whispered.  His window was knocked on so he rolled it down.  "Yes, my dear?"  She pulled him closer and kissed him, then stuffed something down his shirt and disappeared before he could blink.  "I didn't need that!" he called.

Greg looked at him.  "Well?"

Xander pulled out the panties and bra, watching as the necklace and rings fell out.  He bundled it all up into the plastic bag Greg handed him, having to hunt one ring while he drove them off, but it eventually went in there too.  "Hodges would laugh his ass off.  That was Detective Kowalski's exwife.  She's a DA in Chicago."

"I'm sure you'll have many amusing stories to tell him.  So, how much did you get offered tonight?"

"No cash.  I turned down all the trinkets though, including the offer of a trip to Hawaii for a honeymoon by a very pretty Latina woman."

"Well, that's one solution to you not being able to cook."  He pulled onto the street the station was on.  "Anything else that's really good?"

"Not really."  He finished emptying his pockets as they pulled into the parking lot, only putting his pocket knife back.  Once Greg parked he walked inside, smirking at Brass and handing over the bag.  "From tonight's date."

"Wonderful," he said, looking at the assortment of things.  "Who was it?"

"Stan's exwife."

"Ooooh.  Any of these hers?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but I was going to wait to talk to him first. Explain it as someone gave it to me."  He shrugged and headed back to his labs, smirking at Hodges.  "No cash."

"Pity, I could use breakfast."

"I'll buy you breakfast, but only if you don't nag or tease about those sorority women."

"Sure. I can wait to do that," he said with a slightly evil smirk.  Xander smirked back.  "Have fun with the guns."

"Of course."  He walked in and Bobby looked him over, whistling softly.  "Yes, I do clean up well."  He grabbed his jacket and glasses and put them on so he could get down to work.

***

Stan Kowalski looked up as Xander got off his plane.  "Hey."

"Hey.  No snow?"

"We had about three inches but it melted already."

"I keep missing it.  I'll never see what snow is like."  He looked at him, then pulled out a few photos.  "Do any of these look familiar to you?"  Stan looked at the pictures.  Most of them looked like rings...but that one.  He tapped it and looked at Xander.  "I was invited to go salsa dancing by one of your ex's friends, and the usual thing happened in the club, but I couldn't be sure if someone took hers or not. I remember her wearing one while we danced, but not by the end of the evening."  He dug that one out and handed it to him.  "I also didn't want to make a big deal of it, that way she couldn't blame me."

"That's why you asked me to pick ya up," Stan said with a smirk.  Xander nodded.  Stan looked at the ring in the light.  It was the one he gave her.  "I'm sure someone took it and she's just too embarrassed not to mention it."

"That's what I figured.  This way you could subtly give it back to her and she wouldn't get offended."  He walked his buddy out to his car, patting it on the hood.  "Hi, baby.  Did you miss me?"

"He might not have but my dad sure did."  He got in to drive, smiling as Xander got in beside him.  "Dad wanted to know if you could help him change the oil this weekend."

"Sure, if I'm not busy or anything."  He shrugged and tucked the rest of those pictures away.  "Just make sure I don't have to see a single sorority sister this weekend and I'll do just about anything you want."

"Sorority sister?"

"Stupid sex cult stole me after the auction thingy, made my date die of fright."  Stan just stared at him.  "Brakes!" he shouted.  Stan put on the brakes so they wouldn't have another accident.  "Thank you."

"I've got to help you find a normal girl," Stan complained as he moved around the wreck he had caused, heading back to the station.

"Don't you have to stay?"

"Nope.  I wasn't in the wreck, just in the middle of it."  He hit the ramp for the interstate and headed off as fast as he could.  He wouldn't be picking up Xander ever again.  He almost crashed badly this time.

***

Xander wobbled off the plane in Vegas, looking at the guy meeting him.  "Hi," he said weakly, sitting down in the closest chair.  "I'm tired."

"Why are you tired?" Greg asked patiently, helping him up.  Xander blinked at him.  "Xander?"

"Tired but present."

"Why are you tired?"

"Huh?"

"Xander, why are you so groggy," Greg tried.

"You're Greggy, I'm a Xander."

"I know that."  He walked him out to his car, he had cabbed over to pick Xander up at Ray's insistence.  He had wondered why.  Now he knew.  "Did you get to nap on the plane?"  Xander nodded firmly, banging his head against the headrest.  "Did you get to play with the cars?"

"Oh, yeah, got to help Stan change his oil and help Stan move.  Then we went clubbing with Renfield.  Oh.  My.  God," he moaned, clapping himself on the forehead.  "I left that bag with Renny."

"The consulate Fed Ex'd something to Hodges earlier," Greg assured him.

"Oh, good," he said with a dopy grin.  "Can I nap now?  Please?  Just make the women go away," he pleaded. "No more women, women bad."

"You can nap in the break room for a few hours," Greg offered.  "You're due on shift tonight since Bobby's back home with his mom again."

"Okay.  Just keep the bad women away from me. I'm going to be gay now.  Women suck."

"I'm sure they do," Greg agreed, pulling off the interstate so they could head to the station.  He got them into the back parking lot, it was closer to the back door, less chance of Xander wandering into something or someone, and got out.  He locked the door but had to come around to get Xander out and help him inside.  He did remember the alarm on the way in.  Halfway there, they ran into Catherine, who got growled at.  "He's had a bad woman experience this weekend," he said at her startled look.  "They made him want to be gay now."  She just backed away and Xander finished his trudge to the old couch, plopping down on it with his head in Warrick's lap. Greg shook his head at the confused look.  "I don't know.  He won't tell me why he's so tired and groggy."

"Xander, I'm not your pillow," Warrick said, trying to move his head.

"Since women are bad, will you protect me?"

"Hell no.  You have Greg and Hodges for that.  Hodges can scare off all the women around you."  He got up and moved, letting the poor guy stretch out.

"What happened this time?" Sarah asked from the doorway, carrying her lunch bag.

"I don't know, he wouldn't tell me," Greg said dryly, staring at Xander.  "But he hates women now and he hissed at Catherine."

"Okay.  I'll try to stay away from him tonight."  She put her lunch in the fridge then left, going back to the locker room to get ready for the day.

Warrick looked at the sleeping body.  "I'm not sure I want to know what the consulate sent him now."

"Hey, Hodges?" Greg called.  "Xander's back but he's asleep."

"Good."  He came out with the opened box, handing it to him.  Along with the report, which Greg handed to Warrick with a moan.

Warrick read it then looked at the kid.  "Why did those old matrons want him?"

"He's cute, he's funny, and he likes sex," Greg told him.  "All women like him."  He took it to read again, shaking his head.  "Xander, I promise, no women."

Xander pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it at him.  "Make 'em all disappear. I wanna be gay now," he mumbled, going back to sleep.

Catherine bent to get the crumpled letter, looking it over.  She compared it with Greg's note, then patted him down to get the keys to Xander's car so she could get his bag.  By his account, they needed to look in it.  She came back with it and dumped it out in one of the labs, which made Grissom backtrack to look at her.  She handed over Xander's note.  "Greg has the box from the consulate."

"Wonderful.  Why?"  She pointed at the note, sorting out the things she knew Xander didn't have.  She held up a dangling emerald and diamond earring set, making him blink in surprise.  "That's a nice present."

"No, that's a nice bribe," she said dryly.  "To not press charges against them for taking him."  She finished sorting out his things, noticing he didn't have any underwear in the bag and realizing she didn't want to know that much about his personal life.  She checked the bag, finding a few more things in a baggie in the front, then shoved the clothes back in so she could go hand it to Xander.  He curled up around it, hugging it to his chest like a teddy bear.  "You rest, let us handle it," she said gently.  "I'll protect you from the mean, nasty women, Xander.  No more being taken and no more being looked at like a piece of meat."  He shuddered so she backed off, leaving it in Greg and Nick's hands since he was in there getting a soda.  She looked at Nick, grinning at him.  "They bribed him not to press charges."

"Is that legal?"

"Yeah, barely," she admitted, going back to her self-appointed project.  She found Hodges in there looking at them.  "Helping?"

"I already cataloged the other box.  This one's nice."  He held up the chunky diamond bangle bracelet.  "Looks cheap though."

"It's not," she told him, taking it to look it over.  "It's very not cheap."  She pulled over some paper to work on the cataloging, shaking her head as she went.  "They bribed him."

"So I read.  I also called Stan, who only groaned and hung up on me. I did call Renfield Turnbull, one of the Mounties.  He was on guard duty so he had to call back.  I taped the oral report of what went on when they took him out clubbing and then to a consulate dinner function."  He coughed. "He did say someone might have stolen some of his clothes."

"He had no underwear in his bag," she offered.

"That could have been accidental," he said dryly.  His phone rang and he answered it.  "Hodges?"  He listened.  "Oh, thank you.  No, he was fairly sleepy when he got off the plane so we had him picked up.  I'm sure whoever picked him up didn't realize it.  Thank you.  Yes, tonight.  Within an hour if possible.  Thank you again."  He hung up.  "His *other* bag is still there.  Greg didn't check for more than his carryon."

"He only left with a carryon," Greg said from the doorway.  "I was there when he was packing."

"Well, he's got more now," he said dryly.  "Big bag, waiting at the airport."

"Fine.  Let me ask Grissom if I can get it."  He went to the office to talk to him.  "I didn't know Xander had another bag.  Should I go get it?"

"I'll call the airport, have one of our guys out there pick it up and bring it back here," Grissom promised.  "Is he okay?"

"Still napping.  Nick came over to check on him and he grabbed him to cuddle.  Took us ten minutes to get him free and to quit blushing about Xander begging to be saved from women."  He shrugged.  "The note was very interesting."

"So I saw."  He smiled.  "We'll have the shift meeting in a few minutes.  Go check on him and wait in there."  He nodded, walking that way.  Grissom called the airport after looking up the number.  "Hi, this is Gil Grissom, down in the CSI unit. One of our guys was just picked up and forgot a bag.  Harris?"  He smiled.  "Yes, he's our ballistics intern.  Why?  No, he doesn't own one of those.  No, he's bragged on his small collection many times.  He prefers European models for their weight.  Please.  No, he's asleep on our breakroom couch at the moment.  Sure.  Just with the next guy's fine.  Thank you, officer.  You have a nice night.  In my name's fine, or his.  Or Hodges, he's one of our lab techs and is one of Xander's friends.  Thank you."  He hung up and leaned back, shaking his head and smiling.  "Hodges?" he called.  He came in a few minutes later.  "Xander's bag is going to be coming back the next time someone at the airport has to come this way.  For some reason it's got a rifle in it."

"He doesn't own a rifle."

"I know that, Hodges.  I'm figuring it's part of that other stuff he was given.  It may come in your name so don't be shocked if you're handed the duffle bag."

"Duffle bag?"

"Yeah, like military issue duffle bag from what he said."

Hodges shook his head quickly.  "Okay.  I'm sure it'll be fine.  You want me to wake him up in about an hour?"

"Please.  Unfortunately there is something that I need him to do tonight."

"Sure, Grissom."  He went to check on Xander, finding Greg pinned down as a pillow.  "Duffle bag?"

Greg shrugged.  "Not a clue."

"Fine."  He went back to helping Catherine sort and catalog.  He knew what Xander owned and what wasn't his before this.  He couldn't resist it any more.  "At least this makes up for his poor showing in the auction."

"Yeah, it covers the cost of SWAT going after him too," she agreed dryly.  "Who'd want to rob a function at the Canadian Consulate?"

"I don't know," Hodges said dryly. "I'm sure we'll get a full report from Chicago when we ask."

"Hopefully."

***

Brass looked up as Greg and Hodges walked in a list of things and a bundled report, giving them an odd look.  "What crime scene was this from?"

"The hostage situation in Chicago," Greg said dryly.  "The people who took Xander hostage and who were then shot and he was taken by a mob wife who decided to spoil him rotten for being so cute and helping her into her car when her husband was being a dick."

"Huh?" he asked, looking very confused.  "I didn't hear anything about this."

"Well, it started like this," Hodges said, sitting down and clasping his hands on his stomach.  "He helped Stan change his oil and move.  Stan and Renfield Turnbull took him out to a club for dinner.  Then Renfield realized he had an event back at the consulate later that night.  A late night charity dinner thing.  So he got Xander spiffed up with Ray's help.  Took him as his guest, Thatcher greeted him warmly because she likes him."  He smirked.  "Gala dinner was interrupted by robbers."

"Robbers who Xander offered to be taken hostage by so they didn't upset any of the Mounties or guests.  He pointed out he was a ballistics tech and they would come for him, and if not, he made mention of having money of his own and a family.  Standard protocol with the usual lie," Greg offered.

"I've used that one myself," Brass said cautiously, still looking confused.

"The robbers took Xander with them," Hodges said.  "Had him hold the bag and stuff.  They got outside.  They got in their van.  Stan followed said van, blowing out a tire.  Van crashes into a mob wife's car.  Bodyguards get out and arrest-slash-shoot them for daring to come near her."

"Xander's released when it's noticed he's blindfolded and handcuffed," Greg interrupted.

"True.  Mob wife coos over him while Stan works the scene, he didn't think anything would be harmed by it," Hodges said sarcastically.  "According to Renfield, she called her husband to explain why she was late.  He throws a fit.  She mentions the 'd' word and says she's taking this nice young man who they had hostage to the hospital and then she's going to escort him home.  After all, he's very nice and shaken very badly by the kidnaping and wreck."

"Probably more from the wreck," Brass offered.

Hodges smirked and nodded.  "Basically.  And Renfield said Stan noted he was protesting the whole time.  So, not only did she leave the scene of the accident with him, and without a bodyguard, she walked him off, caught a cab, and took him shopping when he protested he was fine and could go back to the consulate.  He apparently called about once an hour to let Stan and Ray know he's still fine and that yes, he's been taken, and no, she's treating him well.  That she was just like his friend Buffy and he was helping her shop on her demand and on threat of her husband killing him for him bleeding on her skirt.  Seems he had a nosebleed or something."  Hodges rolled his eyes. "Renfield said that Ray and he caught up to them about four hours later, finally figuring out where they were.  About that same time, the husband shows up."  Brass groaned, reaching for his bottle of aspirin.

"Husband blows his stack, wife starts a screaming match.  Husband backhands her.  Xander pops him one in the mouth and orders him to never hit another woman again.  That it's disrespectful and that he can't be a *real* man if he's hitting his woman.  Points at Ray, says he'd never do it so therefore the thug shouldn't.  Made a remark about needing better manners, got her into the car of her choice, and she pulls a gun and takes him with her, sneering and mouthing off to her husband," Greg told him, smirking at him as he took a few of the aspirin.  "You'll want some Tums too, Captain."

"I already do," he agreed, pulling out that bottle too so he could take a few of those. "And?"

"She takes him shopping for himself.  Rifle, new clothes, tux since his is basically ruined, shoes, jewelry for her, which she gives him as a donation to our building fund since he was complaining about that kidnaping apparently," Hodges said with a wicked smirk.  "He pointed out that since she pulled a gun to take him that Ray would have to arrest her.  So she adds in a nice tip in bribe to keep him from pressing charges.  She is a mafia wife after all.  She calls her husband and lets him tell him what she's done and about the bribe.  He orders her to come home.  She demands things will be different or she's leaving him and moving to Vegas to pamper this new poor baby.  After all, he did sign a prenup and by hitting her did violate it so she was entitled to half of the estate.  Plus alimony."  Brass shuddered; he was divorced, he knew how bad that could be.  "He's apparently advised by Mountie Fraser to accept her terms, it'd be cheaper and they could do some mild counseling, that he was *sure* Xander hadn't touched her inappropriately or done anything to harm her, but without it, she could be going to jail for kidnaping since an officer had seen her do it."  Brass shuddered.  "They kiss and make up.  She drops him at Ray's Ma's house with the bags and the rifle, and then takes off, leaving him standing there confused."

"Ray's younger sister tries to take care of him but his older sister shooed her off and got her husband to carry things in while she made him some tea and some cookies to make him feel better.  Ray comes in, Maria tells him what's going on.  Ray tells her exactly what happened and Xander only moans and puts his head down, asking about paperwork.  Ray thoughtfully handed it over," Greg said dryly. "That's why he didn't sleep last night.  Then he was defending himself all day to IAD."

Hodges snickered.  "And it gets better.  IAD there says it's not his fault.  That he's not the first that had this sort of thing happen.  They do make him give a full account, down to the credit card number if he remembers them.  They go through all the stuff she gave him, pronounce it okay, and tell him to have fun coming back this morning, after a day and a half of questioning.  They drive him to the airport, having packed the rest of the stuff in the duffle bag, and take off.  Then Renfield called and admitted that they had forgot some things and sends it to us.  They get his statement and clear him again, he's fine with them.  They make a note to watch over him because these things happen.  Stan told them about the auction and they knew others like that."

Brass took a few more antacids.  "So, now what do we do?"

"I talked with Xander.  The jewelry is for us to sell.  It's for the rebuilding and pension fund.  She said so and he's donating it in total.  Especially since it's all girls' jewelry and he's not."  Hodges stood up.  "As for the rifle and other stuff?  He said that you can have the rifle too.  He doesn't hunt so he doesn't need it.  He doesn't want the option of becoming a sniper after a bad day like that one."  Brass looked happier as he nodded at that.  "The rest, well, he's just doubled his wardrobe.  Got a nice tip.  Wanted to know if you wanted half of that too."

"No, he can keep that and the clothes, but we'll take the generous donations," Brass said, looking at the list.  "There's got to be a half a million in jewelry here."

"Three quarters according to Catherine.  All quality stuff," Greg told him.  "She wanted to know if we're pawning it or auctioning it?"

"Pawn's fine," he offered.  "I don't care.  I'll let someone else handle that stuff. Where is it?"

"On Gris's desk, along with the rifle," Hodges offered.  "Bobby saw it and whistled happily when we did a phone-to-phone picture and call."

"Hmm.  Good.  Anything else?"

"Yeah, Xander's back asleep.  He's exhausted," Hodges said fondly, smirking at him.  "Grissom listened to all this and just moaned, saying to let him sleep until lunch."

"That's fine with me," Brass agreed.  "I'll check on him later.  Anything else come of it?"  He looked at the list.  "A Walther?"

"Yes, and he said he wants that one," Greg told him.  "If you need it, he might pout, but he wanted it.  That's why she bought it for him."

"Also, the consulate has put in a commendation with the city of Chicago for him," Hodges said fondly, still smirking.  "For his help with the robbery and for helping to save and protect the lives of their guests.  They're talking award and reward."

"Plus possibly a Mountie if he likes Turnbull that much," Greg offered.  "He'll be out to visit in a few weeks by the way."

"Sure.  We'll make sure Xander has one of his nights off when he's out here.  Anything else I have to know?  Before I have my ulcer erupt?"

"Yeah, the generous donation in the mob wife's name, she wants it kept secret.  That's part of the deal of the bribe.  Ray had a roll of Tums for breakfast that day, but he's fine now.  He said to keep Xander here next month, that things are probably going to be pretty odd and to give it time to calm down.  He did say to get the guy a better car since the one he's got now is a piece of crap."

"Xander said he was going to change cars right before he left," Hodges offered. "That he's going to call a garage up there and ask what's the easiest thing to get parts for that's reliable in Chicago's weather and traffic, then find one."

"I like his car," Brass noted.  "I might know someone who would buy it from him."  He shrugged. "Okay.  Let's make sure Xander stays calm.  Are we seeing any difficulties?"

"Yeah, two of our mob bosses out here are related to either the husband or the wife of that pair," Greg told him.  "The wife's sister is married to the third highest in town.  The husband's cousin runs a smaller gaming racket. We're not sure if they know or not or if they're going to care.  If so, we might get some more donations."

"Donations are always acceptable.  Them coming to kill him isn't," Brass said firmly.

"They won't.  The wife called and said she talked to her sister, who now wants to meet Xander on her own.  She was at the auction and remembered him.  She's kicking herself for not bidding.  She did say her husband's cousin was probably not going to interfere, just laugh a lot if he saw him."

"Oh, good, that's much better," Brass agreed.  "I'll brief the sheriff on this," he said, waving the list and the report.  "Thank you, guys."

"Welcome.  Xander's got to cash that check for lunch and then he's buying us breakfast so we can pick on him," Hodges said with a smirk.  "So if you hear about us then...you'll know what's going on."

"True. Try to keep the kid quiet and out of trouble, okay?  No going dancing or dining at any mob places or anything that could out him and get him noticed."

"Sure, always happy to help," Hodges said smugly, walking out.

Greg looked at him.  "We're planning on the waffle place for breakfast."

"Good idea.  It's usually safer."  He nodded, leaving him alone with his ulcer and his headache.

Jim Brass picked up the phone and dialed the sheriff's pager, putting in his office number, then hanging up.  He sat back to read the report, which had transcripts of the taped conversation and all that already in it.  The sheriff knocked and walked in a few minutes later so Brass handed it to him.  "Chicago this weekend with Harris.  He ran into a bit of a problem."

"What's this list?"

"Read the report first.  We're getting a donation of the jewelry and the rifle."

"Okay," he said slowly, sitting down to read.  He noticed the aspirin and antacid bottles being pushed closer and frowned, continuing to read.  By the time he was done he had helped himself to both.  "We want some of the cash too since she said it should be donated," he ordered, handing it back.  He went to get a drink.  He really needed a drink now.

Brass called Hodges.  "The sheriff said he had to hand over some of the money too."  Then he hung up and took a few more aspirin while he figured out who would get the jewelry and rifle to deal with.  Someone from IAD stuck his head in and Brass gave him an odd look at his charming smile.  "Who do you need help with?"

"We just got a head's-up from Chicago about a ballistics intern.  I'm just letting you know that we're putting him on our 'odd things happen to him' list here as well so we can watch out for the boy. We have a report from them already."

"Get his evaluation file.  It's got reports on the other things."

"Thank you, Captain Brass.  How many times?"

"A few snatchings, offers in clubs."

"That's fine, he's not our first," he said happily, going to get that file and copy out the important parts.  Including the information page.  They didn't have that in theirs.

***

Hodges walked out to the desk later that night, looking interested at the man standing there.  "Yes?  You needed to speak to Xander Harris about something?"

"You don't look like him."

"I'm not him, he's still napping.  He's exhausted from his trip to Chicago.  I'm one of his internship mentors.  Hodges, from Trace."

"I heard he was ballistics."

"He's got a minor in my area and we're best friends."  He looked at him.  "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, the missus and her spouse said to give him this," he said, pulling out a plain white envelope and handing it over.  "The boss said it made 'em a stronger couple and he has their thanks.  It's for the building fund.  The missus said she should have bid on him but she was blinded by his shyness and geeky exterior.  Also, he's invited to dine at their hotel tonight for a free meal."

"We can't take free meals," Hodges told him.  "It's against policy and he can be fired if he did accept, and then Chicago wouldn't hire him as their ballistics tech either.  I will give him the other one however."   How did Xander do this?  He was about to sweat himself to death.

"I understand and I'll tell the boss why he can't accept his generous offer, but that he thanks him anyways.  Thank you, Mr. Hodges.  Tell him to be safe."  He shook his hand and walked away.

Hodges walked back there, taking off the wire and handing it to Brass with the envelope.  "A donation.  I turned down their offer of a free dinner based on policy against gifts."

"Thank you.  Who?"

"Open it."  He smirked at him, watching as Brass had to lean against the wall.  He peeked and smirked, shrugging. "I'm sure that picture of her nearly nude will bring something.  How much is the check for?"

"A few hundred thousand," he said quietly.  "The wire?"

"The whole encounter."

"Even better."  He went to report this and hand them both to the sheriff, then he took the rest of the night off.  If Xander could nap through this, he could have a nap of his own.

Hodges went back to his lab, smiling when the sheriff came in with the envelope.  "Did you get the wire as well?  I didn't want there to be any ambiguity about the situation."

"No, I got it.  Thank you, CSI Hodges.  Where might Mr. Harris be?"

"He should be on the couch in the breakroom still.  We couldn't get him up for lunch."

"Fine.  Thank you.  I'm sure he'll make up these hours."  He went to check on the boy, finding him snoring, and shook his head.  IAD got a copy of the wire and the check and the picture, and the rest went into the building donation fund.  "It'd almost be worth it to keep him," he muttered.  "He brings in good donations, he's usually a very hard worker.  Even if these things did keep happening to him."  He considered it.  "No, I'll let Chicago have him.  They probably need it with the state of their budget."

Ballistic in Chicago

Notes: Discussion of dead people in this story.

Xander pressed the button the intercom, frowning a bit. "What's wrong, Jacques?"  He let it go so the doorman could speak.  They had to move into this very nicely secure building a few months back because of the evil women around him in his life.

"There's a young lady here to see you, Xander," the doorman said.  "Very pretty, brunette, says her name is Dawn?"

"Dawn?  Why is she here?"  He glanced at Hodges, who was looking a bit wary.  "I've got to get dressed.  Tell her to give me ten."

"That's fine. I saw Detective Vecchio pull around to park."

"He can escort her up.  Thanks, man."  He let go of the button and headed for the bedroom.  "Guess I'm putting on clothes."

"You're seeing her?"

"Dawn wasn't part of that stuff," he protested.  "Dawn's only about twenty right now and she was ignored as much as I was, David."

"Fine."  He got up to answer the door when someone knocked, looking at the detective standing there.  "He's putting on clothes.  Is he following you around to pick up bullets?"

"No, not today."  He walked in, letting Dawn come in with the stroller.  "The doorman said to bring her up with me."

"Sure, Xander said so.  He's getting dressed.  You must be Dawn.  He's told me a bit about you," he offered, shaking her hand.

She smiled.  "There's probably not much he could tell.  He's been out of the loop for the last two years.  Including this one," she said, nodding down at the toddler in the stroller.  She smiled at the dog coming out to sniff her.  "Hello, baby.  This is Amanda.  Isn't that a pretty doggy, Mandy?"  The baby looked at the dog, then grinned, reaching out for it.  "Gently," she said quietly.  "Just pat, dear. Like you do for Trevor's Woof."  The baby patted the dog on the head and the dog gave it an odd look before heading to the couch.  "Can I sit?" she asked.  "It's been a long bus ride."

"Sure." Hodges closed the door after her and looked at the detective.  "Your Ma needed him?"

"I'm going to try ta explain basketball to him again," he said dryly.  "Xander, hurry up!"

"I'm coming.  My shirt is being picky about buttons."  He walked out doing up the buttons and looked up, then stopped dead.  "That's a baby."  He looked at Dawn.  "Explanations?"

"The father's a shitbag who left three days after the delivery.  He's in Arizona somewhere skipping child support.  Buffy kicked me out when I came home from the doctor's crying after having what I thought was the flu.  I came to see you, to see if you're still okay, catch up, and see if you could give some mom-like advice."

"I see."  He shrugged.  "Okay.  Start from the top, Dawnie."  She sniffled.  "Do not do that.  I've lost my tolerance for crying women," he complained, handing her a tissue.

"I...No one calls me that anymore."

"Do you even talk to Buffy or Willow?" Hodges asked gently, sitting down beside their poor dog again. She crawled into his lap so he petted her.

"No.  I had an accident, and I fully admit it was an accident. I was on the pill, I forgot a few times apparently and the condom doth break grandly."  Vecchio nodded at that, sitting down as well.  "So I start getting sick, feel really rundown.  I head into the doctor's since I'm on a medical card being undeaged and Buffy not working at that time, again. I get the bad news, come home crying and bawling.  Buffy takes one look at me and tells me to get out and that she never wants to see me again.  I head to a shelter for the next three nights.  They work on finding me a place within the system.  She shows up when I'm about six months along, asks me if I'm having an abortion or adopting it out.  I say neither and walk away.  I haven't seen her since."

Hodges and Ray both looked at Xander, who nodded. "Sounds like her.  Your mom would've been pissed but I can't see her kicking you out for that."

"Me either but she's still dead," she reminded him.  "I wish she weren't.  I really wish she weren't.  But we're surviving.  Amanda here is just about to turn three."  She smiled at her daughter, who beamed at her.  She pulled her out and sat her on her lap, weathering the wiggling.  "No, you stay sitting."

"She can wander.  The house is puppy proofed," Hodges assured her.  "Plus, we do occasionally babysit for Ray's sister."

"Thanks.  She probably just wants to see the dog, she doesn't get to see many of those.  She was a bit premie so she's got some breathing troubles."  She let her down, watching as she walked over to stare at the dog.  "We're living in public housing," she told Xander.  "It's not as bad as it could be.  I know about four of my hundred and thirty neighbors.  I switch off now and then with another mother.  She's got twins with Downs."  Xander moaned at that.  "So we switch off so she gets some time to watch normal kids now and then.  But my social worker wants me to put her into Head Start and to start rebuilding my life, and I don't know where to start."

"High school?" Hodges asked.

"Hard to do, I spent about six weeks out in my junior year.  I ended up having to drop out completely when she came out a month early.  My social worker just says it's time to start making things happen, but doesn't tell me how."

"GED," Xander told her.  "Community college or Vo-Tech for a bit, maybe moving onto a better college."

"See, you have advice.  Is that hard to get?"

"No," Ray told her.  "Tony has one.  It's set at about the eighth grade level in most places.  If you made it to being a Junior, you should be able to do a bit of refreshing and pass easily."

"Okay.  How do I do that?  Do I call the school board?  Um, the social workers?"

Xander sat down across from her.  "Call the local library.  They've got the books and usually someone there has a flier or something about any classes and when and where to take it.  You should be able to get the fee, if there is one, waived."  He stared her down.  "Are you two doing okay?"

"Just lonely," she said gently, giving him a smile. "I miss you, you big idiot."

"Sorry, Dawn."

"I know. You had to get a life.  Mine forced me to move on.  I'm glad I did in a way.  I'd probably be dead by now if I hadn't.  Do they, um, know?"

"Intimately.  Hodges was there the night I had to do Giles."

"I'm sorry, Xander.  If I had heard, I would have done it for you.  It was cruel of Buffy to send him your way and crueler of Willow to make you do it."  He slumped and nodded.  "You didn't know?"

"No.  The only thing I knew was that Willow showed up and told me, then begged me to fix it for her. I had to shoot him, he was in the station."

"You're a cop?"

"CSI, ballistics," he said proudly.  "With a side of Trace, which is my man's field," he said, nodding toward Hodges.  He smiled at the baby.  "Hi, Amanda.  That's our doggy, Sarah.  Isn't she pretty?"  The baby beamed and pointed at the dog, babbling some nonsense.  "Yes, she's a pretty doggy."  He looked at Dawn.  "Is she all right?"

"More or less. A bit late with most things, but not that bad.  Within normal for premature babies.  She just doesn't like to talk.  She likes to listen. I'm hoping she becomes a shrink."  She sniffled.  "Sorry."  She took a tissue and blew her nose.  "It's just been a long week."  She looked at him.  "I'm taking four days away from the projects while they fix my door.  Buffy came looking for me and kicked it in, in broad daylight, in front of two cops who were there to arrest someone else.  Even though I have a restraining order through the social workers since she asked me that and they witnessed it.  That was a fucking wonderful birthday present by the way."

"So you're hiding?" Ray asked.  He'd be upset with her sister too, a bit of swearing never bothered him in the right circumstances.  He glanced at the baby but she was paying attention to the dog.

She shrugged. "I'm taking a vacation.  I haven't had one since the year my mother died."

"You were fourteen then," Xander agreed.  "I wish I could have stayed, Dawn."

"So do I, but you needed a life."  She shrugged. "I understood.  I understand even better now.  Sometimes you have to move on.  The same way we had to move on when Sunnydale died."  He nodded at that, getting up to give her a hug.  "Thanks," she whispered.

"Not a problem.  Sarah, do not chew on that," he warned.  "No eating the remote."  He let her go, looking down at her.  "Are you hiding?"

"No, I'm staying at a motel.  I'm on vacation.  My social worker suggested it when the cops called her.  She even got me bus tickets.  So, are the projects here worse than Cleveland's?"

"Probably," Ray offered. "We've got a violence and drug problem here."

"We do there.  My neighbor on the left is a Blood.  The one on the right is from some Asian gang, or at least the girlfriend of.  They got into it on my front porch a few times and I blatantly walked out there with a shotgun and told them I didn't care, but they weren't doing it around my kid.  To take it away from my place.  So they leave me alone now."

"You threatened gang members with a gun?" Hodges asked.  It had to be something with living in Sunnydale.  No normal people did things like that.

"Amanda had colic.  I was cranky," she said dryly.  "It was unloaded but they didn't know that.  All they saw was a cranky woman with a gun who hadn't showered in four days and hadn't slept in about a week.  They took it across the street."  Xander snickered at that.  "I did what you would have," she admitted.  "I pulled up that touch of Xander-ness that I carry around and used it."

He chuckled. "Dangerous, but happy I could help."  He grinned at her.  "Where are you staying?"

"About three blocks from the bus station," she told him.  "It's not that cheap of a place and it's near a park and the college and things.  How do I figure out what I want to do?"

"What do you like to do?"

"I used to like to shop," Dawn told him.  "I don't do that anymore for obvious reasons."

"Being poor sucks," Xander agreed.  "Is she okay?"

"A bit asthmatic now and then.  Nothing too bad.  She had a good bout of lung problems her first year.  This year's been okay so far except for the spring thaw and rainy times.  Right now we're in high heat and humidity.  She seems to be okay most of the time.  Why?  Is she sounding raspy?"

Xander listened, then nodded.  "Yup, a bit."

"I'll pay attention to it.  I've got stuff for her if necessary.  Thank you, Xander."

"Not an issue, Dawnie.  I missed you too.  No one could taunt King Hair Gel the way you could."

"Who?" Hodges asked.

"Angel," they said in unison.

"Oh, him," Hodges said, nodding and petting his dog.  "I remember you talking about him."

"He's back with Buffy," Dawn told him.  "I'm guessing they wanted Amanda for something vile and evil.  At least she doesn't have the birthmark."

"That's a good thing," Xander agreed.  "How have you been?"

"Tired.  I'm a single mother and I don't begrudge her coming to life, but there are days when I just want to hand her to someone and disappear.  If that doesn't sound mean."

"My sister's got four.  She feels the same way now and then and she's got a husband and Ma," Ray assured her.  "All mothers have those days.  Those are the days for babysitters."

She nodded.  "That's when we switch off."  She shifted some.  "I figured out I had it a lot better than some of the people down there," Dawn told them.  "My mother loved me unconditionally for the greater part of my life.  I had you and Tara, Xander, for a few more years.  I was nearly spoiled by some of those people's standards.  Just because I had a loving parent. I want to move on and have a real life, but there's this locked door in front of me and I don't know how to get past it.  That's why I came to visit. I called Gunn and he said you were here."

"I am here," he agreed, smiling at her.  "So, should I take the day off and show you around?"

"No," she said firmly.  "You do good work.  Go do good work.  We can pop around for lunch tomorrow if you want?"

"Sure, that'd be fine," Xander agreed, grinning at her.  "Take the number 4 bus and ride it around today.  It goes through some pretty neighborhoods.  It also goes right by the big Vo- Tech center here.  They'd probably have a list too, maybe not for the Cleveland area, but they might know who to talk to."  She nodded at that.  "Think about doing hair.  You're good with fashion and it's a steady job you can do with a kid in the building, and it pays decently."

"That's not a bad idea," she agreed softly.  "Thank you, Xander."

"You're welcome, Dawnie.  You know you're like my own sister most of the time."

"I know.  That's why I figured I could pop in unannounced.  This is a really nice place.  My place is about half this size."

"We're here because *someone* drew another evil and merciless bitch to him," Hodges said dryly, smirking at his boyfriend.  "Didn't we?"

"Hey, all I did was go out to dinner with you and Turnbull.  That's all I did."

"Man, it's like Anya cursed you after all," Dawn teased, smirking at him.  "Still bad women?"

He sighed and grinned.  "Still.  I get a lot more variety than I used to.  Apparently the whole 'boyfriend' thing works for them too."  Someone buzzed the apartment and Xander got up to get it.  "Who now, Jacques?"

"A blonde lady.  Very pushy," he offered.  "Very, very pushy."

"Let me in!" a female voice called.

"Um, no," Xander told the doorman, shaking his head. "I'm not dealing with her today.  I'm getting ready to head to work.  I'm sorry but I'm naked and heading for a shower.  If she's still around I'll see her tomorrow."  He let the button go and headed back there, looking at Dawn.  "Followed much?"

"Not that I knew of.  She's supposed to be under arrest."

"So she jumped bail," Ray said, nodding at that.  "Think she'll make it up here?"

"Buffy?  Yeah," Dawn told him. "She kicked my door off the hinges, Detective.  She'll probably knock out the doorman."  She looked over as someone pounded on the door.  "See?"  She looked at Xander, then at the baby and the stroller.  "Hand her over."  Hodges handed the baby back and she took her into the bedroom, coming out to get the stroller before Xander could open the door.  "I'm hiding.  I don't think we need this fight."  She went into the bedroom and closed the door, taking her daughter into the bathroom just in case she got noisy.  "Shh," she whispered.  "Aunty Buffy, the bad lady, is here."  Her daughter stuck her fingers in her mouth and stared at her.

Xander looked at Hodges.  Then at Ray.  "I'm not letting her in."

"Good," Hodges agreed. "If the door starts to buckle, you might change that decision."  The door was pounded on again, shaking in the frame.

"Let me," Ray offered, getting up and answering it.  "What, lady?" he demanded.

"Where's Xander?  The guy downstairs said this was his place."

"Yeah, and I'm Ray, I stay here a lot too.  And?"  He looked her over, then pulled out his badge, making her back up.  "You're disturbing the peace and he don't want you here."

"All I want is my niece."

"Fat chance," Xander told her.  "Very fat chance, Buffy."  He came to stand behind Ray.  "Not a chance in hell as a matter of fact.  I don't care what's going on.  I'm not getting in the middle of it.  So take it back to Cleveland."

"I can't!  We need the kid!"  She stared at him.  "You should still understand things like this, Xander.  It happened often enough."

"She's still not being given to anyone," Xander said firmly.  "No way in hell.  Now, leave. Before I let Ray arrest you for threatening to kidnap and torture that baby I haven't seen yet."

"She's here.  The doorman said so."

"Buffy, I swear to God if you don't leave, I'm going to fucking well move again," he said coldly.  She backed off, looking stunned. "Go away.  Ray, close the door.  She's not worth the paperwork you'd have to do."  He went back to beside his mate and cuddled up with him.  "Hi."

"Hi," he said, patting him gently.  "It'll be okay, Xander.  I promise it will be."  Xander looked up at him.  "We're going to have to get involved?" he guessed.

"Maybe not directly," he offered.  He went back to thinking.  He had met a tech at the convention who worked in Cleveland.  They had a good few hours of chatting.  He could send her a head's up about Buffy skipping town.  He could pass it back into the right ears.  He discarded that one.  Why would he want to get involved in what was quickly looking more and more like a sister-on-sister domestic dispute?  That could be dangerous for careers.  Hodges had made him see how some people thought about their careers.  He looked at Ray, who was checking the hall.  "She still out there?"  He nodded. "Then we'll go out as a group.  Unless you want to do paperwork?"

"Threatening to take the kid is pretty borderline."

"You've got stalking," Hodges offered.  "She did follow her here from Cleveland. She's probably skipping bail to do that."

"I can call Cleveland to see if she is skipping bail."

"So can I, and I'm going to be less busy than you tonight," Xander reminded him.  He picked up the phone and dialed information.  "Hi, I need the number for the main police department in Cleveland?"  He wrote it down.  "Thank you."  He hung up and dialed it, smirking at the distracted sounding person on the other end.  "Hi, this is CSI Harris, out of Chicago, and I think we just got assaulted by someone who was recently arrested out there?  I need to talk to someone to see if she's on bail or not."  He smiled.  "Thank you."  He wrote down that number and called it, getting them.  "Hi, my name is Xander Harris and I work with the Chicago PD and I was just assaulted by a young woman whose sister is visiting me.  The sister did say that you guys had to arrest her out there for kicking in a door in the projects to yell at her and try to take her child.  The assaulter?  Buffy Summers.  Middle name Anne if it matters."  He listened.  "ROR.  Is she allowed to leave the city?  Because she's here.  She was just trying to break in my door to get to her niece.  No, not that I could see.  No, she's here.  She did say there's a restraining order.  That's why I'm calling, sir.  Of course, detective, sorry.  Thank you."  He hung up.  "She's ROR at the moment.  She's not supposed to leave the city and if they can be brought proof she did she's going back to jail on the destruction of property and assault charges.  Dawn?"  She came out of the bedroom.  "Baby okay?"  She nodded.  "The cops were told she was protecting the baby from a horrible mother."

"Wonderful.  I'm a good mother though."  She wheeled the stroller back into the corner and sat down with the baby in her arms.  "Aren't you usually a happy baby, Mandy?"  Her daughter smiled up at her.  "Thank you."  She kissed her on the temple.  "I don't know what to do about her but I'm tired of this."

"File to have the restraining order tightened," Ray offered.  "They can arrest her if you can prove she was here."  Dawn nodded at that.  "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine.  I'm sure you guys respond very quickly if she tries something."

"Why does she want the baby?" Hodges asked.

"I'm betting some sort of prophecy," Xander said bitterly.  "So apparently the baby's either the key to the prophecy being stopped or she's what the bad guy wants."

"She's just a baby," Hodges complained.

Xander looked up at him.  "I know.  It happened to Dawn when she was thirteen.  She nearly died."  He shivered at the very matter-of-fact tone in his lover's voice.  "We stopped things like that."

Dawn nodded. "I still do some now and then with the Wiccan thing, but not that much. It's expensive to do magic so I really only get to do my herbalism and herb-healing stuff that Tara started to teach me."

"Yeah, proper setups are expensive," Xander sighed.  "Even stakes are expensive here in town.  I have a big board I've started carving into my own again."

"I was wondering why we had lumber in the spare bedroom," Hodges said dryly.  He looked at Dawn, then at Xander, who only arched an eyebrow up.  He shrugged slightly.  Then he looked at her again.  "Dawn, we do have a spare bedroom, you're welcome to stay."

"No, she's still a bit fussy and it would drive you guys insane," she said with a gentle smile.  "Thank you though.  So, the number four bus route?"  Xander nodded.  "I can do that.  Thank you, Xander."  She got up and kissed them all on the cheek before putting Mandy in the stroller.  "I don't want to keep you guys from going to work."

"It'll probably be a few more minutes," Xander told her with a smirk.  He looked at Ray.  "Did you come to spare Hodges from cooking?" he asked hopefully.

Ray snorted.  "Hell no. You're his boy, he gets to feed you until you get sick next time."  Hodges smirked at that.  "Speaking of, leash training not going well?  He was off in the field again last night."

"Mort sent him out into the field.  No choice with how busy we were," Hodges said dryly.  "We've got the couple out on a renewal honeymoon and this guy needed the field time anyway."

"Fine.  Just keep him out of trouble," Ray told him.  "He gives me no end of paperwork."  He looked at Dawn, who was quietly snickering.  "Did he do that for you guys too?"

"No, Buffy and Willow pretty much ignored him, but he went behind their backs to do things quite often.  Then again, I was just thinking about Anya and what she'd say about this Xander."

"I'm good in bed?" he suggested with a smirk.  "I'm better in bed now."

"You're very good but if you ever tickle me again, I'm going to have to punish you," Hodges said firmly, blushing a bit.  "Which one was Anya?  The one you nearly married?"  Xander beamed and nodded. He rolled his eyes.  "I've got to send dirty thoughts to her for making you this way."  Dawn snickered.  "He was worse?"

"She used to complain about him all the time, how she was only getting five or six orgasms, as she called them each and every time, a night.   It was never sex, it was always about the O for Anya."

Xander nodded, laughing and looking up.  "Yeah, it was.  She used to embarrass me horribly.  All the time."

"Well, yeah.  I still like how she complained about them in front of Angel."

"I put her up to that," Xander said smugly.  "I wanted to see if vampires could have a heart attack."

"Stroke but not a heart attack," she teased back, grinning at him.  "Tara used to give her looks now and then like 'I'll turn you into something you'd hate to be' to make her stop embarrassing her."  She continued to laugh as Xander answered his phone.

"Yeah?"  He frowned a bit.  "What happened?"  He listened. "Yes, she is.  And she's trying to harm her niece, her sister's daughter.  I have no idea why.  She's just really frantic to get the kid and the baby's not harmed and not ill.  No, I'm sitting here looking at the baby and the mother.  Perfectly happy and normal.  Yes, you can also tell her she's violating her bond and can be arrested again.  We checked.  We can arrest her for them and ship her back too.  Sure.  Thanks, man.  Is my order in yet?  Okay.  Laters."  He hung up.  "My new meditation candle is in."

"Xander, magic?" Dawn asked patiently.

He shook his head.  "Hell no!  Shielding. Evil women shielding."

"Fine."  She smiled at him.  "I was worried you might turn into Willow."

"Ick.  No thanks.  I'd look horrible as a redhead lesbian witch."

Hodges looked at him oddly.  "You might look okay as a rehead but no witches, please."

"Sure."  He grinned at him.  "I won't change gender for you, dear."

"Good ta know," Ray announced, getting up.  "Come on, Xander.  Since your keeper there has tonight off, he gets to lounge around. You don't.  Dawn, can we give you a ride?  It's pretty late this afternoon."

"If it's not any problem," she offered.

"Nah, the Riv's held plenty of kids over the years," he promised, smiling as she gathered up everything and hurried over to give Hodges a hug and whisper in his ear, then follow them out with the baby.  "She did what?"

"She went to the local store that deals with stuff like her," Xander said dryly.  "Later, love."

"You too."  He got up to close the door and lock it after them.  He wasn't going to take any chances.  She might come back.

***

Ray walked through the door into the CSI unit's area, nodding at Mort.  "He back there?"  He got a tolerant nod. "Good.  Hodges isn't home and Turnbull just called.  Their door's off the hinges."  He walked back to Xander's area, tapping before walking in.  He winced at the test fire. "You don't yell?"

"I did. You didn't hear."  He fished out the bullet and put it under the scope, making notes about it and which gun it came from.  "What?"

"Your door's off the hinges and Hodges isn't in."

"Excuse me?" he demanded, looking at him.  Ray nodded.  "We know this how?"

"Turnbull.  He came to drop off a casserole he was trying out.  He found your doorman tied up and unconscious, and the door kicked in."

"Oh, wonderful," Xander said bitterly.  "Fine.  Let's go."   He finished making notes and slid the bullet into an envelope, stapling it to the gun's tag.  He walked out, taking off his jacket and putting it in his cubby.  "I left one out on my desk, bullet stapled to the gun, Mort.  I may be back, I may not.  It depends on if I'm under arrest for homicide."  He stomped out to the car, finding Stan out there already.  "Hey."

"Hey.  We're here to walk you through it. You're not our case.  You're Huey's."

"Fucking wonderful," he said bitterly.  "Buffy showed up earlier to try to snatch Dawn's kid since she's here to hide from her for a few days."

"I checked on Dawn already," Ray offered.  "I just came back from there.  She's fine.  Still."

"Yay."  He got into the Riv and waited while Ray got in to drive.  "So does it look like the blonde or does it look the normal evil women?"

"Could be either so far," he admitted, letting Stan get into the back of his car.  They headed back to Xander's.  Huey was watching as they loaded the doorman into an ambulance.  He got out and they flanked Xander, making Huey look their way.  "Anything?"

"What blonde?  Today's blonde I should say."

"Buffy Anne Summers.  Her sister's in town hiding from her with her daughter. Buffy wants to take the kid for something," Ray reported.   "Dawn's at the eyesore by the bus station."

Huey wrote that down.  "Okay, what's going on?  Something odd?"

"Buffy and Dawn are sisters," Xander said bitterly.  "Dawn's a very young mother, by my standards, and Buffy kicked her out, there's a restraining order in place because of the way she treated Dawn.  Then suddenly she's got a hard-on for taking the kid by force.  Kicked in her door there so Dawn ran this way to hide and get advice," Xander explained.  "Sarah?"

"Not up there," he admitted.  "We're checking the rest of the building as well.  I'm hoping she dropped her off somewhere."

"Hopefully Sarah bit her many times," Xander said dryly.  "She's not usually mean to animals, or at least she didn't used to be."  He went to look at his place, finding the obvious signs of a struggle.  Then he saw it.  "Blood.  Someone's injured," he announced, pointing at it for his fellow techs.  He walked around, finding something on the bed.  "No one made it to our bedroom yet?" he asked.

"No, not yet," their top field tech asked as he walked that way.  He saw the note and came over to open it, reading it quickly.  "Who's Dawn?" he asked as he slid it into a bag.

"The bitch wants her kid," Xander said bitterly.  He read it, noticing the blood on the corner.  "We've got blood on here too."  He reread it, then walked it to Ray and held it up so he could read it.

"I'll grab Dawn," Ray promised, heading to do that.  "Stan, stay with Xander."

Xander looked at one of the officers, then at his crew.  "Phil, I'm taking one of the cars for a few minutes!" he yelled.  "I've got to check a source!"

"Sure, Xander.  Just bring it back," he called.  "Take the blue one.  The other's got the spare gear in it."

Xander nodded, heading that way, pulling out his keyring.  He had a key for each of the cars, just in case.  Phil was great about locking the keys inside the car, so it was practical in his mind.  Even if Mort did give him funny looks.  He headed off toward his favorite occult/comic shop and looked at the closed sign.  "I doubt it."  He got out and walked over there, knocking.  He heard someone moving around and the owner opened the door.  "Dear," he said, pushing him inside.  "We need to talk.  Buffy took my mate hostage."

"Oh, shit," he muttered.  He looked at him and saw the fury in the cold brown eyes.  "She said something about soup and the baby."

"The baby's not soup," Xander said firmly.  "There's no baby soup on my watch.  Why did she want the baby?"

"Prophecy."

"I knew that," Xander said bitterly.  "Why else?"

"There's a demon coming for it.  It wants her as a future consort."

"And?" Xander asked dryly.  "That wouldn't make Buffy kick in the door since she didn't want the baby to be born."  The owner looked at him.  "And?" he repeated.

"It's to keep the demon off the plane, man," he said quietly. "To use as a lure."

"Bet me," Xander said bitterly, heading out.  "Soup.  Soup?"

"There's a former canning plant," Stan offered.  "I don't know why she'd go there, it's a wreck."

"Then it's a vampire hangout probably," he decided, heading that way.  He called Ray on the way.  "Yes, it's about the baby. It's a sacrifice to keep a demon off the world.  To be its future consort."  He hung up and looked at Stan.  "We'll check then call."

"Fine," he agreed.  "Fair enough.  You're not going in."

"If there's vampires, I am," Xander said firmly.  "You can't stake worth a damn and Turnbull's not here."

"You took my Mountie hunting vampires!" he shouted.  "Are you nuts?"

"Depends on the day?" Xander suggested dryly.  "He asked and I instructed, then let him help me."

"You're givin' me mental problems, Xander."

"He's perfectly safe.  He's a better hunter than I am," he pointed out.  "He's trained."  He looked at the intersection.  "Which way?"

"Left."  Xander turned.  "Toward the stock areas."  Xander nodded, heading that way.  They found the former factory, which was a wreck of a building.  Xander parked and got out, going to the trunk to change clips.  He found his small bag he kept in the back of all the cars and pulled out the two clips.  "Stan, what're you carrying?"

"The usual.  Why?"  Xander handed over a clip of...wooden bullets?  "I'm not that great a shot."

"It's a distraction and if you are, it'll kill 'em," he said, pulling out the crossbow too.  "Let's go look."  He looked inside, scanning around the factory.  "Here, vampy vampy vampy," he whispered.  "Come eat me."  He stepped inside and one tried to pounce him.  "Hi, babe.  Is my man here?  Kinda very grumpy, light brunette, small issue with his hair?"  He kicked her backward, getting some space to move.  "Well?"

"Yeah, he's back in the canning area.  On one of the conveyors."  She lunged again. "You won't get to him."

Xander snorted and staked her, then put his stake back.  "If you say so."  He looked back at Stan.  "Confirmation enough?"

"Not with hostiles in here!  Huey can't stake things!"

"Fine, we'll clean."  He moved into a shaft of light from an unbroken window.  It was a nice night.  Too much moonlight for a decent hunt though.  "I'm tasty," he called.  A few more lunged and he got them, then looked around. "Come on.  I'm very tasty and I beg prettily."

"You certainly do," Buffy agreed as she came out of the shadows.  "You always did.  Now, you can beg for your little gay friend."

"Actually, I turned him gay, Buffy.  It was in reaction to all the evil bitches I'd been around in my life, like you."  She shrieked and attacked so he fended her off while Stan called for back up.  He even heard them warn the dispatcher to only let Vecchio in at first.  That something was going on.  That was so nice of him.  He continued to fight Buffy.  "How were you going to explain it when you lost the baby to the demon, Buffy?  Just that you had lost and hadn't saved your own niece?"

"We both know she's not."

"She is.  They made her of you, Buffy.  She's your family.  Your mother's got to be tapping her foot and scowling somewhere."  He backhanded her and moved back, moving the body behind him but not staking it since it was Stan.   He heard running feet. "Stan, go stop them unless it's Ray."

"Of course."  He went to do that, staking someone on the way out.  Turnbull was running their way.  "Ray stopped ta get you?" he asked, looking confused.

"Yes, dear.  He got the message loud and clear.  Xander?"

"Fighting the twat."  Turnbull groaned and went inside, going to clean the space before any cops could get eaten.  Then he jumped Buffy from behind, knocking her down.

"Get off me!" she shouted.

"Fat chance," Xander said bitterly.  He looked at Turnbull.  "No more?"  He shook his head.  "Hodges?  David? Are you all right?"

"No!" he called back.  "I'm going to kick her ass!"

"I'm coming."

"You'd better be soothing instead," Turnbull joked.

"Eww! Gay men!  Get off me!"

"Shut up, dear.  It's women like you who turned Xander gay," Turnbull assured her in his very reasonable voice - the one he used on bureaucrats.  "Besides, we don't want you."  He watched as Xander hurried off.  He turned her over to Stan once he came in with Huey.  "Here she is, Detectives."

"Thank you, Turnbull," Huey said.  "Why did you get to come in here?"

"Well, it has to do with Xander's past activities on a paramilitary front," he offered gently.

"Oh, them."  He nodded once. "Okay.  Is the cranky one fine?"

"He yelled a few minutes ago and Xander was going to him."  He nodded behind him and headed that way with Buffy being drug along.  Xander was still fine, but fighting a few things.  "Oh, hell," Turnbull said, jumping in.  Xander was tired and pissed, it wasn't the best combination.

Buffy stared.  "He can't do that!" she shouted, wiggling.  "He's not that good!"

"He is that good," Stan told her.  "Shuddup."  They watched them fight and one of them rushed Xander's back, making him flinch and yell, "Watch out!" at the same time Buffy did.  He glared at her.  "I told ya ta shuddup!"  She flinched and shrunk away from him.  Xander had gotten that one and was fighting one last one while Turnbull got Hodges untied.  Xander took a heavy swing at the guy and he lunged under it, meeting the dagger in Xander's other hand.  This one bled.  "Sit," he said, coming over to help him.  "Who the fuck are you!" he demanded, flipping him over.

Xander brushed back some of his hair, panting as he leaned against the conveyor.  "Angel," he panted.  "Alive."  He looked at his boyfriend, pulling him over to hug and kiss him.  "'Kay?" he whispered.  Hodges nodded, letting him cling for now.  "Did you get bitten or anything?"

"No, I'm fine.  Sarah bit her a few times, but she was dropped off at the vet's up the street.  She kicked in the door and threw her inside when she heard someone in there."  He glared at Buffy.  Then gave Xander a softer look.  "I've never seen you fight."

"Most people don't," he agreed, looking up at him. "You're sure you're okay?"  He moved his shirt collar, looking for bite marks.  Nothing there.  He was moving his shirt out of the way when Huey came over to get them. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's normal to make sure he's fine," he promised, leading them off, letting the paramedics take that Angel guy off.  He was bleeding from the wound in the stomach and had been kicked a few good times.  A vampire pounced out of the shadows at them and Hodges glared.

"Do you really think you should be doing that at a Knight?" he demanded.  She squeaked and ran out of the building.  He looked at Xander.  "You're right, your rep works very well," he said with a slight grin.  Xander hugged him again.  "I'm fine.  You're not fussing me to death."  He walked him to the cars, letting him lean against Stan's.  "You stay there."  He looked at the paramedics.  "I've got some rope burns but I'm fine."  He was led off to be checked and Detective Dewey came over to take his statement.

Turnbull hung up Stan's cellphone and looked at Xander.  "Someone did find Sarah.  She's not that badly hurt.  The doctor came running when he found out his office had been broken into and took care of her since she was an innocent bystander.  He did note that she bit someone but I told him she was defending her people."  Xander relaxed and nodded at that.  "Are you all right?"

"Muscle strain.  Nothing a hot shower won't cure," he promised, moving his shoulders a bit.  "It's been a while since I've been on that wild of a hunt.  Usually it's one or two at once and then move on."

"Sometimes life calls on you to do the wild things," Ray offered.  "David?"

"He said he's only got some rope burns," Xander told him.  "He also told me I can't fuss."

"You can so fuss. I taught you how to fuss.  You'll do it very well."  He walked over there to check on him.  "You okay?"

"Fine, detective.  Thank you.  Do not let him fuss."

"Fat chance," Ray snorted.  "He's been waiting for a chance to and you know it."

"I don't like being fussed over."

"Yay, live with it.  Xander's going to be fussing for weeks.  Hope he orders instead of trying to cook again."  He walked off, going to talk to Huey.  "Xander, where are you staying tonight?"

"Hotel I guess.  Hon?"  Hodges looked at him.  "The house is a crime scene."

"Hotel's good enough," he agreed.  "That way you can't fuss too much."

Xander snorted.  "Bet me!"  He smirked.  "You go with the nice paramedics and I'll follow after finding us a place to sleep and checking on the puppy."  Hodges shook his head slowly.  "Yes, dear.  Now."  He walked over and lifted his boyfriend up, putting him into the back of the ambulance.  "I want him to have the best care possible.  He's not only a kidnaping victim, but he is a CSI with me.  I will get pissed and take heads if he's hurt further."  He stared down one of the paramedics, who blanched and nodded, getting in while the other went to drive. Xander blew a kiss.  "I'll see you in a few minutes," he called as he closed the door.  He waved, smiling happily.  Then he smiled at Stan, Ray, and Turnbull.  "Any vampires left?"

"Yeah, but they fled," Stan offered.

"Fuck.  I'm going to go kill something harmful to the world.  I'll make hotel reservations in a few minutes."  He walked off, heading into the night.  Phil and the guys had already gotten here, they could repossess the car now.  He walked down the road and found another abandoned warehouse.  This section of the city was full of them.  He walked inside and blatantly smiled at the demons in there.  "Hi."  They all slowly backed away.  "I'm still angry.  I need a fight.  Anyone around here...expendable?"

"Um, yeah, kinda," one vampire offered.  "There's a slayer...."

"She's the one I'm mad at, kiddo.  She took my mate.  I nearly killed her already.  I'm working off that stress," he said pleasantly.  "Anyone else?"

"Uh," another male said, staring at him.  "Big, hoofed thing up the road about a mile.  Really nasty and gross, but not the least bit nice or patient.  Seems to like to eat us.  You could protect us too."

"We'll see. That's a good idea," Xander agreed.  "Thank you."  He walked up the road, heading to check on that demon.  What he found didn't surprise him, but it was a huge, powerful, nasty, mean, and bad guy demon.  Who for some reason had the DA and Stan's exwife and was trying to get them to submit to him.  Xander walked up behind it, listening to it.  "You're arguing with lawyers about submissions?" he asked.  The demon spun and looked at him, then got the universal 'oh shit' look on its face.  "Hi.  I'm pissed.  You're here.  You're big."  He smiled sweetly.  "Can we fight now?  I just nearly killed a slayer for daring to touch what was mine."

"Uh, sure," he agreed, backing away.  Xander lunged at him, and the demon had to fight back.  He was outclassed.  He was out-fought, and Xander was a happy guy by the time it was dead.  Xander walked over and released the lawyers then headed out to call his boss and ask him for hotel suggestions and pick up his dog.

***

Hodges looked up from his reading as a plate appeared in front of him.  He looked at the food, then at his mate, who only grinned. "Ordered?" he asked hopefully.

"Taste it and see."

Hodges ate a carefully small bite, then winced and grabbed his glass of water.  "Too hot," he gasped, gulping it down.  He tried the bread but it had jalepenos in it too and he was going to die.  Xander got him some milk and handed it over.  "Thanks," he said, wiping off his watering eyes.  "Please tell me you cooked that?"

"Yes, I cooked that," he said miserably, moving the plate and laying down beside him.  "I tried."

"You try very hard," he agreed, stroking Xander's back and arm.  "Thank you, Xander."  Someone pounded on their replaced door.  "What!" he yelled.  "I'm getting fussed over!"

Xander walked out and opened the door, looking at their landlord.  "I don't owe you anything," he said, looking confused.

"Yes, you do.  An explanation!"

"Oh.  Um, bad people.  We're with the PD as CSI."

"Huh?"

Hodges came out of the bedroom.  "We work with the cops as Criminalists.  Usually in the labs, but we're the people who solve the crimes and put people away."

"You said you weren't cops."

"We're not, we're lab techs," Xander told him.  "I told you I was a lab tech and that Hodges was a lab tech.  I told you all this when I signed the lease."

"I don't remember that."

"Uh-huh," Xander said dryly.  He looked at Hodges, who shrugged and grimaced, then looked at the landlord again.  "We paid for the repairs to the apartment.  I actually did most of the work myself."

"Are you licensed for that?"

"Yeah, that's what I did before I went to college."  He smiled sweetly.  "I spent a good few years doing construction."

"Oh."  He looked at the doorframe, not able to find anything wrong with it.  "Fine.  Will this ever happen again?"

"That depends.  Can you honestly say that no stalkers will pick me up in a club for being cute?  Or that something at the PD won't happen and that one of my cases won't come back to haunt me?" Xander asked.  The landlord glared at him.  "It can happen to anyone, man.  Seriously."

"I still don't like it."

"Think about how we feel," Hodges complained.  "I didn't *like* being kidnaped."

"I still don't like it.  One more problem out of you two and you're out of here.  Prepaid rent or not."  He stomped off.

Xander slammed the door and looked at his mate.  "I'll start looking tonight when I head in."

Hodges nodded. "I'll look on the computer."

"House?" Xander suggested hopefully.

"I'm still not ready for that yet, Xander.  I told you that when I came back."

"I know," he sighed, heading over to hug him.  "I'm sorry I nearly killed you again.  Where should I order you dinner from?"

"Giovanni's is good," he suggested, smiling at him.  "Get yourself a sandwich for later so you don't eat junk out of the machine."  Xander nodded, heading for the phone and the menu.  "You fight really well."

Xander looked at him and shrugged.  "For me, it's like breathing well, honey.  I had to so I could live.  It's part of my life now and then but not as often as it used to be."  He dialed.  "Want the usual or the lasagna?"

"Lasagna, I need something a bit fattening tonight."  He came over to give him a hug.  "I wasn't criticizing, I was praising," he said softly.  "You fight very well and I had never seen you do it before.  You impressed the hell out of me, Xander."  He gave him a kiss on the cheek and heard the person on the other end giggle.  "Yes, it's us.  Lasagna and get him a sandwich of some sort?"

"Ham," Xander said, shaking himself free of that dirty thought he was having.  "No mustard, like usual.  Yeah, go ahead and put it on our debit card.  Thanks."  He hung up and looked at his mate, smiling gently.  "I'm a stud?"

"You could say that," he agreed dryly.  "I was going to say talented but if you want to say stud and sexy, that's all you, Xander."  He winked and headed back to his bedroom, watching their poor dog sniff that plate.  She looked at him and barked softly, then stole Xander's pillow and watched it like it was going to move. "Xander, why don't you bring this in for Diefenbaker or someone," he called.

"That's an evil thought," he called in a sing-song way.  "Though, Dewey was picking on me."  He came in and grabbed the plate, stealing a kiss.  "There's more too.  I can feed Ray and Stan too."  He didn't include Huey, he didn't eat anything he didn't see fixed anymore, not after the last time Xander had tried to kill...er, feed him.  He had sworn many times he hadn't wanted to hurt him, even though he had ended up vomiting for four days straight after that attempted rice, cheese, and mushroom soup casserole. He bundled the dinner up into plastic containers and set it on top of his badge and his new supply of clean jackets in their dry cleaning wrappers.  He even went to answer the door when it was knocked on, smiling and taking the meal, giving her a nice tip when he signed the slip.

"What did you try to cook?" she asked.

"Hamburger helper with this bread mix I found online."

"Ah.  We included some antacids, in case he needed them.  Plus some complimentary bread sticks."  She grinned and wandered off, heading back to her car to go back to the restaurant up the street.

"Ah, another person who knows not to let you cook," Hodges said from the doorway.  "That was hamburger helper?"

"Yes, dear," he said, taking his sandwich and handing over the other food and the antacids.  "Sorry," he offered sheepishly.  "Let me head into work."

"Fine.  Come home soon and be safe tonight."  They shared a gentle kiss and Sarah came trotting out to go with him.  "Yes, you protect him, dear."  He watched them go, then broke down in snickers once he was sure Xander was on the elevator and couldn't hear him.  His poor man, he still couldn't cook. He really should warn Stan about dinner, but then again...  He was being a bit too smug recently, he deserved it.

***

Xander snuck up the stairs to the detective's squad, placing the food in the refrigerator.  Detective Huey looked at him and winced.  "Do I want to know?" he asked.

"Hamburger helper," he offered.  "Mix bread?"

"Fat chance, Xander," he said dryly.  "Shoo, before I get you for intentionally trying to kill us."

Xander kissed the dark-skinned man on the cheek.  "Love you too, detective.  Anything of yours on my desk?"

"Not yet.  I'm hoping it's a slow night."  He watched Xander skip off and thought about telling Ray that Xander had tried to cook, but...nah, he was being a bit smug and surly recently.  He deserved it.  He really did.  He did warn Welsh, but he had to know in case they had to take more detectives to the hospital.

Xander stuck his head into his boss's office. "Mort, I cooked," he said happily.  "Bread and hamburger helper.  I left some upstairs."

He handed over a sheet.  "Go into the field, Xander.  To preserve your life and hide, go into the field tonight."

Upstairs, Stan's voice drifted out of the break room.  "Whose hamburger stuff?" he called.

"Free for the taking," Huey called back.  "Someone cooked too much."  He glanced around. "There's bread too!"

"Yes!  I don't have to buy dinner," he said as he walked out a microwaved plate of the food.  He sat down at his desk, grinning at Dewey came in.  "Free food in the fridge.  Someone overcooked.  The hamburger stuff and the bread."

"Cool.  One less meal I have to buy."  He went in there to get his own, finding Ray in there looking at it.  "Is it bad?"

"No, but I'm trying to figure out what it is."

"Stan said hamburger stuff.  Said someone overcooked.  There's bread too."  He found that and pulled down his own paper plate, microwaving some for himself.  Then he smirked at Ray.  "Go ahead.  You know how Huey is now."  He walked back to his desk, sitting down to nibble.

Welsh came to the door at the first spluttering noise, watching Dewey drinking all his diet Mountain Dew.  Ray was wincing and trying to swallow.  Stanley was just giving them funny looks and continuing to eat.  At least until he ate some of the bread with some of the stuff on his plate.  Then he choked and Welsh shook his head.  "Tell me if we have to transport anyone."  He went back to his desk, watching through the doorway as Stanley tried so hard to quench whatever was wrong.  Straight, black, hot coffee wasn't helping much apparently.  Huey was snickering.  Ray was at the water fountain, refilling his mug repeatedly.  Welsh let out a small laugh and shook his head, looking at Sarah as she trotted into his office.  "Hello, sweetness.  No wolf tonight?"  She barked and wagged her tail, hopping into his lap to get cuddled. "Is your daddy doing stuff?" he asked cutely.

"Who cooked that!" Ray shouted.  "That should be against the law!"

"Xander had some earlier," Huey said innocently.  "He said it was fine. Stan was eating the meat stuff until he had the bread."

"Hot peppers," he moaned, waving a hand in front of his mouth.  "Oh, God, hot peppers in both."  He went for the water fountain this time, nudging Dewey out of his way so he could fill his cup.  "You okay?"

"No," he gasped, taking another drink and rinsing and spitting.  "Not at all.  What was that?"

Ray looked at the plate, then at Stan. "You could stomach that meat stuff?"  He nodded.  "Then that must be Xander food," he said, shuddering a bit.  "How did he do that?"

"He said it was hamburger helper and bread he found in a mix," Huey offered dryly, smirking at them.  "I should laugh the same way you guys did when he did it to me."

"That's mean, man!" Stanley complained.

"Hey, you can stomach his cooking, I don't know why he didn't pick you for his mate," Huey said dryly.  "Then you'd never have to worry about takeout again."

"Oh, yes we would," Stan said firmly. He called down to the lab, then got Mort when it flipped over.  "Where is that sneaky freak?" he demanded.  "He tried ta kill us!"  He listened to what case Xander was on.  "Uh-huh.  No, hamburger helper and some bread with hot peppers.  Sure, you can test it to see if it's toxic," he said bitterly, hanging up.  "He's in the field tonight. Mort said it was probably safer if he went into the field."

"I'm taking some home to Ma so she can see why the poor boy needs cooking lessons," Ray said, bundling his plate up and putting it away.  With a note on top of the dish that said 'Xander cooking, do not eat' in plain sight.  By the end of the night, someone had still taken half and he almost shuddered to think about how much they must be hurting at that moment.

***

Hodges looked up as the apartment door opened and Xander walked in, one arm in a sling.  "What happened?  Field work?"

"Yeah, Mort sent me out to save my life."  He flopped down, looking at his arm, then at his mate.  "It's nothing.  Just a few good scratches.  We've got an over-anxious new ME resident with Mort."

"Uh-huh.  Take it off, Xander," he said firmly.  Xander never got little scratches.  He got huge gashes.  So if he said they were good scratches, well, he was expecting to see bone.  Then again, he did see stitches so maybe the new ME wasn't *so* bad. "What happened?" he asked patiently.

"Nothing much.  I was out on a B&E when someone came out of the back and tried to push me through the deli's window.  Oh, I picked up a new menu," he offered, pulling it out of his bag and handing it over with a slight grin.  "He lost.  The cop who didn't clear the scene got chewed a new one.  And I'm still fine.  Just a few cuts from the window."

"Uh-huh.  Was bone showing?"

"No, just some muscles," he said weakly.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem.  Let's get you into a warm bath, Xander."

"I'm supposed to be fussing."

"I'm perfectly fine, you're the one with new stitches.  Into the bath!"  Xander pouted so he hauled him up and swatted him on the ass.  "I said go run a bath.  I'll bring you a snack."  He headed into the kitchen, stopping to answer the door.  "Hi, Ma."  He looked at Xander, who was now doing as ordered.  "Did Ray give you some of the dinner he cooked for me?" he asked sweetly.

She sighed and nodded.  "Yes, he did.  My caro, such a worrywart, but this time I do believe I should help the boy.  Where is he?"

"Starting a bath, Ma."  He closed the door once she was inside.  "Xander!  Front and center!"

"Let me finish using the bathroom," he called, coming out a few minutes later. "Hi, Ma."  He gave her a one-armed hug.  "I tried.  I tried really hard.  I even followed the directions."

"I know, caro.  We'll figure it out together.  Are you off this Saturday?"  He nodded.  "Good, you and your man are coming over for a real cooking lessons."  She pinched his cheek with a smile for him.  "You try so hard, bambino.  We'll figure it out together, okay?"  He nodded, grinning at her.  "Good boy.  Now, I'm off to bring Maria and the bambino home from the Emergency Room."

"Did he eat it and get sick?" Xander asked, his eyes comically wide.

"No, caro, he ate something from on a shelf and we weren't sure what it was until he started to get sick.  I'll go pick them up.  I'll see you Saturday."  He nodded, hugging her again.  "Good boy.  At least Ray knew not to eat that."  She walked out shaking her head.  That poor baby, he was just not meant to cook.

"What did you add to it?" Hodges asked.

"It said to add pepper."  He went to the cabinet and pulled down the pepper he had used.  "That's the only one I found."

Hodges looked at the jar of flaked Anaheim chilies suspended in olive oil that had been a weird present from their former coworker Sarah - the one their dog was named after.  "That's not pepper, honey, that's what pepper spray is made from," he said gently.  "Speaking of dogs?  Where's ours?"

"She went home with Ray.  Followed him out to his car and refused to get out since Diefenbaker was going.  I'm so glad that she's fixed now."

Hodges nodded quickly.  "Me too!  No more puppies!"  He took the jar of peppers and oil, tossing them into the back of the cabinet.  "Let's get you into a warm bath, I'll make you a snack, and then we'll cuddle if Stan, Ray, or someone else doesn't come to kill you for cooking."  He led him into the bathroom, starting the bath for him so he'd have to get into it.  Then he went to stick some frozen stuffed mushrooms and cheese sticks into the oven to warm up for him.  He checked that jar, making sure it was sealed.  He even got some packing tape to make sure it was sealed.  Xander would not be doing that again.  While he was waiting for the food to finish warming, he called Stan to apologize.  You didn't alienate friends like Stan and Ray by nearly killing them with dinner.

***

The next night, Xander peeked around the precinct door, catching the desk sergeant's eye.  "It safe?" he mouthed.  He shook his head and Xander ducked back out, letting Detective Dewey walk past.  He peeked in a few minutes later and got another head shake.  So he ducked back out.  Ray caught him the third time, dragging him inside and up the stairs, making Hodges sigh and follow.  "I'm sorry," he said as he was drug through the door.  "It said to add pepper.  I added the only pepper I found in the cabinets."

Stan handed him a nicely tied box.  "This is so you never, ever get near the kitchen again," he said with a fond grin.  "Those are the menus to each and every place that delivers food in the Greater Chicago area.  I checked, they'll all deliver here and to your house.  That way you never go near the stove again," he said slowly and clearly, making his point clear.

"It's partially my fault," Hodges admitted.  "I hid the pepper shaker to wash it and hadn't refilled it.  He only found the jar of Anaheim chilies the Sarah sent us from Vegas.  The ones suspended in olive oil from some wacked out gourmet shop.  He substituted."

"We've even talked to Ray's Ma.  She's not allowed to teach him to cook," Welsh told him.  "That way he can't get near a stove ever again.  Because if he does, we might have to arrest him for the patrol officer who suddenly had explosive, painful diarrhea last night while in her car.  Or the cop who apparently ate some off her plate and had his on his bike.  So let's not ever let Xander near the stove again.  That way we don't have to arrest him for assaulting officers.  Okay?" he offered.

"Sure, he'll take that deal," Hodges agreed.  "He's very sorry."  Xander nodded, looking quite pitiful.  "He was trying to spoil me some more."

"Yay," Ray noted.  "We talked to Ma, Hodges, she'll teach *you* how to cook this Saturday if you've got it off."

"Yeah, I've got it off.  I'm still on the four day schedule."  He shrugged. "I don't know why."

"That's fine," Stan agreed.  "Just make sure he never tries to cook again.  Take the menus, use them well, get something exotic tonight for dinner, guys."

"Is that Lebanese place in there?" Xander asked, looking like a kicked puppy.  Stan nodded, rolling his eyes.  "Is my dog here?"

"She's curled up on Ma's stomach," Ray told him.  "Ma had a headache, she's playing guard dog."

"Okay," he agreed.  "Thank you, guys, for the great present, and I'm really sorry."

"I'm never going to pick on you again, Xander.  You're a dangerous man," Dewey told him.  "Outside of the fighting and the gun thing, you're a very dangerous man."  Xander gave him a little grin.  "Now shoo."  They headed back down the stairs with their new menus.  "Anaheim chilies?"

"The dried things that are on those strings at Begoli's," Ray told him.

"Oh, those things.  No wonder!"

"It does explain why both officers said they crapped fire," Welsh agreed.

"It wasn't that bad until you added the bread," Stan offered.  Everyone stared at him.  "What?  I used ta eat Stella's cooking!"

"Yeah, that's another one who could stand Xander in the kitchen.  Let's make sure that those two *never* have to bring anything to any precinct picnic, okay?" Ray demanded.  Everyone nodded.  They could enter into that conspiracy, it was for the good of the public.

Mort stopped Xander on his way in the door.  "I remembered to restock the medical kit because of you, thank you, Xander."

"I was trying to be good," he protested weakly.

"I know you were.  Trust me, that meal you cooked last night wasn't poisonous, but it was quite dangerous.  The most dangerous dinner I've ever seen outside of something poisoned.  Good job!"  He went back to his next dead body, leaving the embarrassed boy to slink into his lab and hide in there.

Hodges just shook his head and went to his own lab, writing a note back to Las Vegas to tell Grissom and Brass about this one.  They loved to hear these sort of things about Xander.

***

In Las Vegas, Catherine opened Gil Grissom's email when a new message icon popped up, seeing it was from Hodges.  She read it, then shuddered and printed it off, going to hand it to Sarah.  "I don't want to know where you got it from, but don't do that to the poor detectives again.  He shared it around."  She walked on.

Sarah read the email, pouting a bit. "At least he used my gift," she offered, going to give it to Bobby and Archie since they liked to hear about this stuff.  She ran into Greg, who had come back after his six months leave was done.  Hodges had come back for three days but then left for Chicago again.  He had realized he wanted to stay with Xander and that he felt safer and more at home there.  Or so he had said when he said goodbye formally.  Bobby read it and burst out laughing.  "At least he used my gift."

"I went practical. I got him a really nice planner for the office," Bobby told her.

Archie nodded.  "I sent him a gift certificate to a good AV store for DVD's and things.  He likes gadgets."  He read the email and shook his head. "Those poor men.  I'm hoping Immodium worked on them."

Warrick leaned his head in.  "Catherine said there was a new email from Hodges?"  It was handed to him and he burst out laughing.  "Oh, damn, those poor detectives. That boy is so bad."  He walked off to tell Nick, which meant telling Grissom and Brass since they were all in the break room.  "New message from Hodges," he announced.  Nick put down his can of soda and Brass put down his coffee cup.  "Apparently Xander was trying to spoil him on his night off so he made some bread he found in a mix, which contained jalepenos, and some hamburger helper stuff, with one small problem.  The pepper shaker wasn't in sight so he used Sarah's gift in the hamburger helper instead.  Two patrol officers who shared a plate had an explosive and painful accident while on patrol, and the three detectives got together to get the poor guy a menu from every place that delivers in Chicago.  They've *forbidden* him to go near a stove ever again or they're going to charge him with assaulting the police officers he nearly killed last night.  Bobby's got the actual email."

Brass burst out laughing, leaning against the wall to shake his head.  "That poor kid."

"Yeah," Grissom agreed.  "Those poor detectives."  He knew what Sarah's gift had been.

"How easy is it to make that sort of mistake with hamburger helper?" Nick asked, still laughing.  His eyes were watering and he had to wipe off his cheeks.  "That poor kid.  He's never going to be able to survive on his own."

"What was Sarah's gift?" Brass asked once he had calmed down.

"Anaheim chilies in olive oil, flaked and cleaned up," Grissom told him.

"No wonder it hurt," Brass said, starting to laugh again.  "Oh, those poor patrol officers."

"According to the email, one car patrol and one bike patrol," Warrick told him dryly, smirking at him, making Grissom shudder in horror at that and Nick burst out laughing again.  "I'd hate to be the guy who had to clean that up."

"Well, if we see Xander again, we'll know to let him order some more," Brass noted, grabbing his coffee and heading out, going to laugh in his office about that.  He found an email from the kid himself, complaining about his lack of skills and how he had tried.  "I'm sure you did, kid.  I'm sure you did," he said fondly, writing him back.  The one from the Sheriff could wait.

***

"I don't wanna grow up, I'm a Toys'r'us kid, there's a million toys in here that I can play with," Xander sang as he walked up to his door, noticing it was open.  He put away his keys and pulled his gun, moving inside slowly.  "Hodges?  Sarah?" he called quietly.  His dog barked from the closet so he let her out.  "Shh, baby.  Where's daddy?"  She barked and ran for the bedroom.  Xander hurried that way, grabbing the phone on his way.  "Fuck," he growled, dialing the station.  "Ray, me.  Hodges is knocked out.  There's no blood but he's not waking up even though I'm standing right here.  No, open door.  Yeah.  Thanks."  He hung up and bent down to check him.  He was breathing okay.  He looked at his dog, picking her up to look her over. "Who was here, baby?"  He put her beside the daddy and went to the door to wait on someone official to show up.

Phil came off the elevator first.  "Cleared the scene?"

"Released my dog from the closet and found him.  I doubt they stayed," he said bitterly.  "Would have liked it so I could shoot 'em."  He got out of the way. "He's in the bedroom.  Sarah was in the closet around the corner."

"He need an ambulance?"

"No.  Probably not.  At least I'm not being paranoid and making him go this time.  He complained so much last time."

Phil nodded, walking around the apartment to check on things.  He checked Hodges himself, nodding that it seemed like he was asleep.  He called dispatch, ordering the detectives in with an ambulance.  Then he got to work.  The ambulance crew came in and checked him over, moving him after a quiet word with Xander, which made him dent the wall with a fist.  Then they handed him the dog because she was in their way.  Xander sat down and cuddled her until Stan came, sitting down to hug him.  "No note, detective."

"I didn't figure it for a suicide attempt," he said bitterly.  "Xander? Have you gotten any threats?" he asked gently.

"The usual and that trial case," he offered with a small shrug.  "'If you put me away I'm going to get you.'  That trial he stated it in front of the whole courtroom, yelling about it.  That was after his attorney asked me about Hodges and if we had worked together on this case.  I pointed out that I was trained to do Trace and I often helped him when he got backed up and I was free.  This was one of those cases."  He shrugged again and went back to cuddling his poor baby.  "She was in the closet."

"I'm sure she was," Stan soothed, looking over as Huey came in.  "Yours?"  He nodded.  "That's fine.  Hodges was in the bedroom.  Phil's in there."

"Thanks.  Xander?" Xander looked up at him.  "No threats?  No more evil women?"  Xander shook his head.  "Are you sure?"  He nodded.  "Absolutely positive?"

"Yeah.  Perfectly sure," Xander agreed.  "I haven't been out clubbing in nearly a year, Huey."

"That's fine, kid.  Let us work the angles and we'll see what we come up with, okay?  Why don't you let Stan take you and Sarah there to the hospital?"

"No."

"He'll need ya," Stan said gently.

"I'm still a...."

Stan patted him on the cheek. "You are, but you can't work your own case.  Now, let's go."  He nodded, getting up to follow him.  They ran into the landlord, who was fuming at Dewey in the lobby.  "Any ideas?"

"Not Buffy, not female.  Could be related to one of the random idiots around here who hate gay men.  We're not sure.  Xander, he'll be fine. The paramedics didn't even have to hurry off."

Xander nodded, sighing a bit.  "He'd better be.  I'm one possessive and jealous bitch of a lover when what's mine is hurt."  He headed out to Stan's car.

Stan looked at the landlord.  "It coulda really been worse.  They didn't break in.  He was gently knocked out.  He wasn't dead."  He walked off.

"I don't want that sort of thing in my building!" he shouted after him.

"That's against the law," Stan reminded him, letting the door slam.  Stan's phone rang when he got outside and he listened.  "Hell no, Phil. You know that.  Neither one's like that."  He hung up and got into the car.  "Someone planted some minor drugs in your bedside table."

"He has a 'scrip for Xanax for the really bad days," Xander offered quietly.

"We're talkin' some weed and it looked like it had been dusted with something.  A few unknown pills in a baggie.  I told him you didn't do those things.  He's bagging them and taking them in as evidence."

"Thanks."  He hugged him.  "I don't know what the hell is going on, Stan, but I want it to stop.  My glasses were missing earlier today at work.  Someone broke into my locker last week."

"Excuse me?" he demanded, looking at him.  "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did, to Mort and Welsh.  They said it was probably nothing, just pranking or something.  Nothing had been put into my locker but one of my lab coats was missing.  My glasses were missing today, and I reported them."

"I don't think this is a prank."  He started the car with one hand, dialing Huey with the other.  "Hey, me.  Xan had his locker broken into and one of his lab coats taken, then his glasses were lifted today from the station.  Yeah, he told Welsh and Mort.  Sure."  He hung up, backing out.  "It'll be fine, Xander.  We'll figure it out and help you move again."

"Sure."  He looked up.  "I hate moving."

"Yeah, me too," he admitted.  "Got any ideas?"

"I looked at a nice, but fairly plain, apartment in a small gated community.  It's within my salary range.  Barely.  There were two in unsecured buildings.  Then there was one in Thatcher's building.  But I'm not sure I want to do that.  She keeps staring at me."

"Cook for her sometime, she'll quit," he said dryly, merging into traffic to head to the hospital.

***

Huey hung up and looked at his partner.  "Xander had his locker broken into and a lab coat stolen.  His glasses were stolen today."

"He tell anyone?"

"Welsh and Mort, who probably told him it was a prank."

"This isn't a prank," Dewey said patiently.  He looked at the scene tech.  "Anything?"

"A few fingerprints," he offered absently.  "Why would someone want to pretend to be Xander?"

"That's a really good question," Huey agreed.  He looked around. "I'm thinking he's going to be moving again soon."

"That's fine," Dewey agreed.  "Know anyplace nice?"

"There's a gay-themed building complex that's a safe haven and has good security.  Not too bad on prices from what I overheard," he offered.

Phil looked at them.  "Hodges would kill you.  I can't see him taking on a flaming queen some days."

They chuckled at that.  "No, but then again they don't associate with the neighbors much either," Huey reminded him.  "Hodges doesn't really like people and Xander's worried that he'll attract another stalker."  He looked at his partner again.  "That wife.  Is she still in town?"  He nodded.  "Good.  We need to pull that file.  If it's one of his fan club, they're probably in the system somehow.  He's good about noting them."

"He is," Phil agreed.  "The file's on Mort's shelf, beside his DSM IV."  He went back to dusting for prints. "He looks through it when he's having a bad day to chuckle at it."

"Then I'm sure he knows it by heart now," Dewey noted. "I'll get it when we get back."  He headed to make note of what Phil had bagged already.

***

"I'm fine!" Hodges shouted.  "I'm leaving!"

"Babe," Xander said as he walked up the halls, Sarah held in his arms.  "What did they want you to do?"

"Stay overnight," he said grimly.  "I'm fine. I'm not dizzy.  You said I didn't have a concussion.  What's the problem?"

Xander looked at the nurse.  "I'd like to know that too."

"It says he's unmarried, so he won't have anyone to watch over him tonight."

"I'm his lover.  I'm quite sure I can wake him up at two-hour intervals and make sure he fully wakes up.  I'm also quite competent in making sure he takes any and all medicine prescribed.  I can also guard us because I seriously doubt there's not going to be a gun near me tonight.  Any other concerns?"  She shook her head, blushing a bit.  "Thank you for your concern, nurse.  It's very nice that you were worried about him, but that's kinda my job," he offered more gently.  "Let's get him moving.  We're taking him somewhere safe tonight."  She nodded, handing him the paperwork he needed to check out.  "Thank you."  He gave her a gentle smile.  "It's all right.  I understood."  He walked Hodges out to where Stan was waiting on them.  "It was given to Huey and Dewey."

"Good!  What's this about drugs?"

"Someone planted some in your bedside drawer," Xander said bitterly.  "Some weed, some pills."

"Fucking hell," Hodges muttered.  He looked at Xander.  "This has to do with your coat and stuff?"

"Probably," he said grimly.  Stan stood up as they came into view, leading them out to the car.  Xander got into the back and Sarah jumped over once Hodges was buckled in and the door was shut to cuddle him.  "Sorry, I've been holding her since I found you.  She was in the closet."

"That's fine," Hodges agreed quietly.  "Stan, hotel?"

"I've got a spare room," he reminded them. "Benny does sleep in there sometimes but he can sleep with us tonight."

"Sure," Hodges agreed.  "Xan?"

"Fine with me.  More protection."  He got comfortable, thinking over all the options.  "Hodges, didn't you get that odd set of notes recently?"

"The mash notes? Yeah, why?"

"Well, if they stole my coat, they stole my glasses, they're trying to make you look bad so I leave you, isolating you from everything by the way they had Sarah in the closet, then either someone thinks you're not good enough for me, or they think I'm not good enough for you.  Or at least that's my take at the moment."

"Could be," Stan agreed.  "Sounds reasonable."

Hodges looked back at his lover, giving him a totally serious look.  "You never said having evil women after you was spreadable, Xander," he said flatly.

"It wasn't as far as I knew," he defended weakly.  "I'm sorry you got a stalker."

"Yeah, me too.  So, where are we moving?"

"I talked ta Huey and Dewey a few minutes before you came out," Stan offered.  "You're missing a few clothes that we've seen you in, David."  Hodges shuddered.  "Also, he said that there's a gay complex in town."

"I knew that," Xander said dryly.  "It's the 'perfection' issue some of us have."

"Not that sort, dear," Hodges sighed irritably. "No more bad jokes tonight."

"Sorry.  Just trying to lighten the mood."

"I know, and I love you for it, but it's annoying right now."  He looked at Stan.  "How gay?"

"Very gay and only gay couples and singles can live there," Stan told him.  "Security, high- rise living with a gym and all that.  Pool somewhere."  He shrugged as he turned a corner.  "He heard a patrol talking about it last week and about how he'd turn sides to move there."  He turned on his blinker to pull into his parking lot. "What about the one you looked at, Xander?"

"Fairly sterile, plain, unimaginative.  Barely within my salary range," he told him.  "A couple of non-secured buildings as well."

"No.  No no nononononono," Hodges said, shaking his head.  "Secured only.  I want someone or something there to stop people."

"I agree," Xander assured him.  "There were these little cottages, but they're very...cutesy.  As in I nearly puked at them," he offered.

"I'm still not ready for a mortgage," Hodges reminded him patiently.

"I know, just mentioning them," Xander defended. "Besides, if I wanted a house for real, I want the one on the corner of Racine and East...."  Hodges looked back at him.  "The one with the fairy tale tower."  He grinned.  "I'm a princess, I should have a tower."

"You're a princess?" Hodges snorted.

"Didn't you know that?  I'm definitely a princess."  He smirked at him.

"Then you're in the wrong relationship.  I'm not a prince," David told him dryly, staring at him.

"I think you are.  You help me be snarky and explain things to me.  My kingdom is not vast, but it's a fun and rewarding place to live."

"I can tell.   It has all sorts of evil bastards living in there," he agreed sarcastically.  "No more letting your minions of evil out, Xander.  Keep them within your country's borders to protect the rest of the world.  Okay?"

"I'll try," he offered, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.  "Are you all right?" he asked gently.

"A headache, nothing more so far," he promised.  "I'll be fine and you can fuss - as long as you don't try to cook."

"Not even if I have Turnbull watching me?"

"My Mounties, quit trying to corrupt them, Xander," Stan said fondly.  He pulled into his parking lot and got out, letting Xander out so he could help with Hodges.  "You and Renny are really odd together at times."

"He's like a brother," Xander protested. "I'm not corrupting him to become like me.  I'd have to have more girls around if I did."  He grinned as Turnbull opened the bottom door.  "Tell him I'm not corrupting you to the dark side."

"I can't see how you could."  He picked Hodges up, making him squeak.  "The stairs are a bit shaky and the light's out," he offered, carrying him up to their spare room.  He settled him on the bed and Xander moved in to help relieve him of some of his clothing, which got put into bags for later looking over, just in case.  Then he went to get his baby some coffee and steal a donut for him to nibble on for dinner, smiling happily at him when Hodges took a sip.  "I'll be right back."

"Sure."  He waited until Xander was gone, leaving Turnbull.  "Can you please untuck me a bit?  I can't move."

"I believe that was his intention," he offered as he untucked the poor man.  "He does make very good coffee."

"Greg taught him, very patiently taught him, how to make good coffee," Hodges told him.

"I was making good coffee before then," Xander said from the doorway.  "I just had a different version of excellence than his.  I wanted mine a bit more strong than his mild sipping stuff."  He came in to tuck back in what Turnbull had untucked and grinned before heading to the bathroom.  Turnbull untucked him and sat on the foot of the bed so hopefully Xander wouldn't notice.  Xander came back in and tucked him in again around Turnbull, kissing him on the temple before laying down on top of the blankets to hold him.  "There, all done."

"No gun, I'm impressed," Hodges said as he finished his coffee and donut.

"It might go off, so I'm wearing my back holster," he said proudly, grinning at him.  He kicked at Turnbull.  "Retuck the corner you just untucked."

"Xander, I don't need a straight jacket," Hodges complained.

"This way you're warm and snuggly without me getting so clingy all night again, which you complained about before.  Besides, this way it'll take a minor act of God to get you out of this bed without me noticing."

"While that may be true," he argued, "I'd like to be able to move around during the night, Xander."

"You only move to get away from me when I try to cuddle and since I can't, you won't have to move," he said happily, beaming at him.  Then he wrapped himself around his boyfriend's body and cuddled him.  "Thanks, Turnbull."

"You're welcome," he said with a soft grin and a wink for David, letting him know he'd be back later to help him again.  He left them alone, closing the door most of the way.

"I really don't need to be tied down tonight," he noted.

"Yes, you do.  This way it'll be harder for someone to steal you while I'm sleeping," Xander told his stomach.  "We both know I can sleep like the dead sometimes, and if tonight's one of those nights, not that I think it will be, this'll give me extra time to wake up or an extra notice that something's wrong.  Therefore, you're being swaddled."

"You swaddle the dead.  I'm not dead."

"No, but you need it," Xander said firmly, closing his eyes.  "Night, David."

"Good night, Xander," he sighed, not getting his way yet again. He didn't seem to win many arguments with his lover for some reason.  He wasn't sure why.  He was smarter and more able to debate, but he still didn't win.

***

David took the report he had just finished up to the detective's room, waving it at the detective he wanted.  "All done.  Do you have a blonde woman with shoulder-length hair that was probably dyed very well?"

"Not yet, but I'll see what I can find," he offered.  "Thank you."

"Welcome."

"What are you doing up here?" Turnbull said as he came up the stairs.  "You should be at home."

"I'm fine," he said firmly.

"You're not fine and Xander's going to have puppies when he finds out.  Little yapping ones who'll all yap at you for getting out of the bed he made for you."

"I was being strangled."

"Xander saw somewhere that they wrap babies up like that in the nursery so they feel like they're being held.  He wanted to make sure you felt safe and secure while he came to work today.  Which you're not if you're here."  He picked him up and walked him down the stairs, taking him to Stan's car, since he was still down there.  "Here.  He escaped."

"I can see that.  Not like being cuddled ta death by the blankets?" Stan asked dryly.

"No, I don't. I don't like being held that tightly.  It's bad enough Xander turns into an octopus when he's worried about you.  The blankets with him on top of me was suffocating."

"Yeah, well, once the boy learned how to fuss, he took right to it," Stan said dryly.  "I'll drop you off on the way out."  He drove off, mentally shaking his head and cackling.  Halfway there, his phone rang.  "Yeah?" he answered.  He listened.  "Address?"  He nodded once.  "Be right there."  He hung up.  "Xander," he said to ease the worried look.  "He thinks he found a place for you two."  He turned them around and headed in the other direction, back toward Ray's Ma's house.  He pulled down the alley and stopped in front of a garage with an apartment overtop of it.  "That's not too bad looking," he offered. " Good neighborhood."

"Security?" Hodges asked as he got out.  He looked up.  "If I looked around in our paperwork stuff, would I find a mortgage?"

"No," Xander said patiently.  "It's a rental, David.  The owners live in the brown house just up the street.  Two of our neighbors are cops in the fourteenth."  He opened a garage door.  "Let me show you around, I told them you had the final decision."  He pointed at the security system.  "There's a house-wide system. All doors, all windows, even the garage doors.  The remotes deactivate it and they're very specific so you can't get it off the street somewhere."  David nodded, looking around the two car garage, which was fairly nice.  He followed Xander up the stairs to the apartment part, whistling. It was an open design and it was quite nice.  The kitchen was good sized.  There was a dining table already.  The living room area had a carpet that would actually go with their furniture and was very nice looking.  He checked, the sliding door off to the small porch over the garage had a locking bar for safety and was wired for the alarm as well.  He followed Xander into the bedroom area, looking around.  There was one master suite, two guest bedrooms/offices, and two bathrooms.  It was a very nice place.  Xander looked at him.  "Rent's about two-thirds of what we're paying now and electric.  It's all electric and they cover water, sewer, and trash."  He smiled and opened his arms.  "Can I tell them yes?  Sarah's presently sucking up to the older lady of the couple.  She was making cookies."

Hodges smiled and nodded.  "I do like this.  The rent's cheaper, same other bills in addition to the rent.  It's nicer than our place.  We can get a bit loud if we have to.  We can park inside for a change too."  He hugged Xander. "You did good."

"Thanks."  He beamed.  "Let's go sign the paperwork.  I've got my checkbook so I can cover the deposit and stuff."

"Are we getting anything back from the other guy?"

"We are or I'm suing him," Xander offered, leading the way down.  "The only thing I saw wrong was the narrowness of the stairs, but I guess we'll get used to it."

"It's fine.  You just can't carry humongous things up.  Are we moving things?  If we are, we should probably plan to get the couch and things up over the porch."

"No, I'm hiring movers," Xander said firmly.  "I hate moving, this way they can pack, move us, and unpack."  David snickered at that.  "Hey, we'll be working," he pointed out, taking his arm with a grin.  "By the way, we're roomies," he said quietly.

"That's fine," he agreed.  "We won't have sex on the porch or anything."  He smiled at his lover. "I can be discreet."  He smiled at the couple coming out to meet them.  "Hi, David Hodges," he introduced himself, shaking their hands.  "Was our puppy a good girl?"

"She was most excellent, but a bit of a begger," the older woman said with a smile.  She handed the dog back.  "So, did you like it?"

"Quite a lot," Xander agreed happily.  He looked at David, who nodded.  "Let's sign a lease."  They smiled and led them inside, going to fill out the lease and make out the check.

Stan came out and locked the door behind himself, shaking his head.  Xander came back with one of the garage door controllers and put that down, and then they headed back to the station with him, so they could head back to work and he could go out on a case.  Xander grinned at Mort.  "Hi.  I found us a new place."  He handed over the address. "For the records."

"That's fine, Xander.  Does it have good security?"

"Excellent security, a monitored whole-house system that covers everything, including the garage doors with special codes built into the remotes."

"Good. You need someplace like that."  He handed over a case file.  "No report?"

Xander grimaced and went to print it for him, bringing it back.  "Sorry.  Not a match to the one they sent us, but a match to some other things."  He shrugged and went back to his lab to get back to work.  Then he backtracked and looked in DNA, frowning at the woman asleep in there.  He looked back down the hall, catching Mort's eye as he came out of his office, nodding him to come there and look.  They both went 'awww' at the cute sight.  "We should take pictures for the next newsletter."

"She'd kill you, Xander."  He patted him on the back, letting him get back to work while he went in to check on her.

Xander looked in on his boyfriend.  "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I'm fine," he said patiently.

"I thought I was bad about that," Xander teased.  "Looks like my boyfriend is worse at resting than I am."

Hodges looked at him.  "I'm too old to be a *boyfriend*, Xander.  Lover, yes.  Boyfriends are for teenagers."

Xander beamed.  "I'm not that old so therefore you are," he said smugly, smirking at him.  "Argue with me and I'm getting you Valentine's day stuff.  The most mushy and glittery stuff I can find plus roses and having them delivered here."

"Fine," he complained dryly.  "You can have your delusions."  He went back to his work, shaking his head.  His lover was something else mentally some days.  He wasn't sure *what*, but something definitely.

Xander beamed and kissed him on the cheek before going back to his lab.  "Sophia was asleep."

"Poor girl.  Wonder what happened at her house last night."

"Me too.  She's always throwing really good parties."

They looked at each other.  "I'm not running DNA tonight," Hodges yelled.

"Of course you're not," Mort yelled back.  "Dayshift is on their way in, David.  Relax."

"Mort, tell him he's a worrywart," Xander complained.

"Of course he is, Xander," Mort said, coming to the door of Trace.  "He has to worry about you and those who hunt you."  Hodges smirked at that.  "By the way, Huey has an idea, roughly, of who it was who tried to hurt you, David.  He said he wanted to talk to you sometime tonight if possible.  He said to call him at home."

"Sure, thanks, Mort."

"Welcome, dear boy.  Now, I'm off to call someone for that poor dear.  It really is too bad that she happens to smell quite a lot like pot."  He walked off, heading to make that call.

Xander and Hodges shared another look and Xander shook his head.  "I can't run DNA," he pointed out.  "I can run the Trace tests, but that's it."

"Which is a good thing, or else Greg might be out of a job too," Hodges joked.   He got back to work, shaking his head.  How had he ended up with someone like Xander?  "How much do I owe you for my half of the security deposit."

"I told you, you take care of the other things and I'll do rent. You do the electric, the groceries, the dry cleaning, all that stuff."

"Which doesn't come out even," Hodges reminded him.

"And?"  He frowned at him.  "Since when has that mattered to me?"

Hodges looked at him.  "Honey, I'm not Anya.  I'm not going to be kept.  We can share the rent, I'll just take a slightly lesser one to cover the hundred and fifty I spend on the other stuff each month."

Xander shook his head.  "That's okay."

Hodges groaned, walking over there to make Xander look at him.  "You're used to girls who refuse to pay their own way," he said gently.  "I'm not a girl, and I do pay my own way.  I feel like I'm some boytoy that you're keeping and I'm not boytoy material, Xander.  So therefore we're going to work out the rent so we're each paying about half.  I'll take a slightly lesser half so I still cover the electric and all that, but I'm paying for part of it.  I'm not letting you keep me."  Xander looked confused.  "I know, this is what those girls trained you to do.  I'm not a girl though."

"I can tell," Ray said from the doorway, smirking at them.  "Troubles?"

"We have an agreement, I pay rent, he pays for all the other stuff," Xander told him, shrugging.  "I don't know why he has a problem. It's good that he pays for the other stuff."

Ray just nodded once.  "Xander, even married couples split expenses evenly.  That way they can *both* have money in savings."  Xander opened his mouth.  "Ah!  Let me finish.  Your savings should go towards things like medical bills the next time you're kidnaped.  Okay?"  He nodded slowly.  "Let him cover part of the rent so you can start doing a retirement fund."

"I have one of those through here," he said, looking really confused now.  "I'm supposed to pay the rent.  Right?" he asked his boyfriend, who sighed.

"We're supposed to *split* the expenses, Xander," he told him.  He nodded a bit and Xander nodded.  "We're not splitting it evenly.  I want it to be more even."

"Then you can't afford to go back and visit Greg next month."

"I can so. I make more than you do."  Xander frowned.  "Experience means I make more."

"I got that part," he said, frowning at him.  "I'm not quite that dumb.  It's fine the way it is, David."

"Xander, I'm going to insist.  I'm paying for slightly less than half of the rent.  Okay?"  He shook his head.  "Why?"

"Because I said I was going to."

"Yeah, but those sort of agreements can change.  I'm paying for half the rent.  Minus the other monthly bills like the groceries, dry cleaning, cable/phone, and electric.  That's fair to both of us.  Really."  Xander pouted.  "Don't do that.  It won't work."

"But I don't mind."

"I do!"

"I make more than enough....."

"Xander, hush," David ordered, making him quit protesting.  "I said I am and I mean it.  Do not argue.  I want this to be more equal."

"You cook!  That's the other half of your rent.  You do most of the cleaning too because I don't.  That's more than enough."

"No, it's not. I feel like I'm being bad and unfair to you."

"But you're not."

"I don't care.  Don't argue with me."  Xander sighed and nodded.  "Good boy."  He gave him a gentle kiss, then a hug and a squeeze.  "Thank you for not making me feel like I'm a girl."

"Sorry."

"That's okay.  That's the way you were trained.  The same way you can't understand guy sports."  He let him go, smiling at him.  "Okay?"  Xander nodded and sighed.  "Good boy."  He went back to his lab.  "Ray, something for me?"

"Checking on you. You should be at home resting."

"We've got to hire movers," Xander told him.

"We can help you move, Xander.  We did the last time," Ray said sarcastically.

"We have a narrow staircase from the garages to the apartment," he told him.

"Okay, I'll get someone to give you an estimate," he offered.  "So they're going to have to lift the big stuff?"  He nodded.  "That's fine.  I know a few guys."  Xander beamed.  "Washer and dryer hookup?"

"Washer and dryer included," Xander said proudly.  "Not that much farther away either."

"Good.  Excellent job.  Stan said it was a nice place."  Xander nodded, smiling at him.   He came in to look at Hodges.  "Did you get to see it too?"

"I got final decision and it's a nice place, but he's right, the staircase from the garage is a bit small.  We'd have to get stuff up to the second floor with a pulley."  He looked over.  "When will the old place be released?"

"By the end of the month according to Phil.  Your landlord hates you, you know that, right?"  Both men nodded. "How far ahead were you paying?"

"Four months," Xander told him.  "Plus the deposit.  Which if I don't get back within a week after we move, I'm going to sue."

Ray nodded at that.  "I understand fully, Xander.  Let me call those guys and have them call you.  David, you do not leave this office without me, Stan, or Xander with you.  And I do mean this office, not the building, this office."

"Fine," he complained.  "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but if it's who Huey thinks it is, you're not safe here," he said simply.  David looked at him.  "Seriously."

"I'll take that into account.  Patrol?"  He nodded.  "Fine.  Thank you, Ray."

"You're welcome, kids.  You stay safe, and I mean it."  He walked out, going to talk to Mort about what Huey thought.  If he was right, it was pretty pitiful that no one had caught her at it before.  Then he went back upstairs, going to see if Huey had come back yet.  He was muttering as he looked in his desk.  "David's downstairs."

"He came to work?"

"Yeah, he said Xander was gonna fuss and smother him ta death this time."

"Wonderful.  I'll head down there to talk to him.  They get a new place?"

"Stan said they found a nice one with a garage underneath."

"Wonderful.  Security system?"

"Oh, yeah," Xander said as he came in with a few reports.  "Por vous, por vous," he said, handing them to Dewey and Ray.  "And three for Welsh to sigh and sign."  He grinned.  "David's in the lab and I left him my panic button.  It goes right to my phone."  He headed into the office with a quick knock.  "Sigh at, sign it, and then take an aspirin," he ordered with a 'sorry' look. "Not the right guns."  He handed them over to the out-stretched hand.  "Sorry, Lieutenant."

"Not an issue, kid.  How's your guy?"

"Well, he just insisted on paying an equal amount of the expenses, even though I pointed out he covered the rest by cooking and doing most of the cleaning.  Since I hate to clean," he offered dryly.  "And he says he's not my boyfriend because that's a teenage thing but I convinced him if he fussed I was going to be making a big deal out of valentine's day."  He grinned.  "Do you have the name of a good, eat in, nice restaurant?"

"Six or seven," he admitted with a smirk.  "Open the phone book to page 83 of the yellow pages, there's a chart in there.  It tells you prices, types of food, eat in, reservations, that sort of thing."

"Thanks, Welsh.  I needed that suggestion."  He beamed and headed back down to his office.

"He doesn't clean?" Huey asked.

"He's claimed he's allergic to dusting," Ray told him.  "Told Ma that.  She suggested he hire someone since David's too tired to clean.  I think he's going to soon."

"Hopefully so.  Then again, David's a neat freak."

"Very true," Ray agreed dryly, smirking at him.  "That's how they balance it out."  He went to his desk, pulling out his phone book to call someone.  "Yo, Angelo.  It's Ray Vecchio.  I got a couple here who're movin' here in the next two weeks, but the new place has a narrow staircase to the apartment part.  No, apartment to apartment."  He nodded, writing down a few figures.  "Yeah, Harris.  One of our CSI's downstairs."  He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, the dark haired guy drooling behind Ma the last time she went shopping.  She's adopted him so he eats.  He can't cook.  No, I mean he's poisonous.  As in he poisoned a few cops who ate some of his hamburger helper.  Yeah, *really* can't cook."  He smirked.  "Sure.  Yeah, if you come down here in about a week, he can let you see the other place.  It was broken into.  It's still under CSI control.  No, just a move job.  Maybe packing but maybe not.  Thanks."  He hung up and leaned back, beaming in satisfaction.  "The last time he took Ma and Maria shopping he was pushing the cart and staring in wonder at all the things in the store."  The other detectives laughed.  "Angelo and his wife were shoppin' and he said it was nearly comical.  Thought the guy was kinda mental, but since he can't cook he figures he's never seen the inside of a real grocery store."

"He buys his chips from the corner place up the street from him," Dewey told him.  "Where is this new place?"

"You'd have to ask Stan," he offered.  "He drove David over."

"I'm headed down there anyway," Huey noted, doing as he said he would.  He walked down there and pulled David into the office to talk to him about the case, also letting him know that Ray had called someone about moving them.

***

Xander walked into the first night at their new apartment and looked around at all the candles.  "No electricity?"

"Not at the moment," Hodges called from the bedroom.  "I called them, they said they got backlogged today and it'll be on first thing tomorrow.  So I'm leaving a radio on just in case.  What does our security system run on?"

"Electric but it's got a battery backup and a phone connection.  I can stay up tonight.  I'm off tomorrow."

"Sure."  They shared a kiss.  "Come on.  There's a nice bath waiting for you."  Xander beamed and followed, letting David spoil him horribly.  Xander moaned as his lover worked on his shoulders, relaxing into his touch.  "What were you going to do for valentine's?"

"I was thinking a nice dinner out since we both had it off.  I know I'm on call that night, just in case Crissy goes into labor, but it should be okay."  David nodded.  "Any type of place you'd like to eat?  Italian?  Korean?  Mexican?  Really expensive with the delicate crystal stuff?  Warfield's former place that I was warned about?"

"I like that spot, but not that much," he promised, working a bit lower.  "Just pick somewhere nice.  Upscale.  Suit and tie place, Xan."

"Sure."  He grinned back at him.  "Kylie's?"

"Sounds good to me."  He put a kiss on the back of Xander's neck.  "You did good in the field today."

"Thank you.  I tried really hard to stay out of trouble too.  Fraser was there pointing out stuff and I didn't even beat him for it."

"Good job," he agreed with a smirk.  Fraser could be really annoying about pointing out stuff you hadn't gotten to yet.  The other field guys made him go away until they're done and then let him come back.  Xander and he were friends so he had pouted at Xander so he got to stay.  "What case?"

"Duggerson.  Domestic.  He was trying to leave, she beat the shit out of him and his car.  Broke the window with a baseball bat then drug him out to beat him.  He'll be fine.  A few of his neighbors called the cops and they showed up pretty fast."

"Good," he agreed happily.  "Kids?"

"Two.  With his mother.  Who made me shudder in horror at what she was yelling at her son," he admitted sadly.  "At the hospital, I slipped him the number of the shelter that does fathers with kids.  They've got counselors and others there to help him."  His phone went off.  "Fuck."  He answered it with, "I'm not on call."  He listened and groaned.  "Who?"  He nodded.  "Yeah, I was.  Um, Vecchio had it.  Yeah.  I'll call him and meet you down at the hospital.  Thanks."  He hung up and looked at David.  "She broke in and stabbed him.  It's a homicide now."

David gave him a kiss and handed him a towel.  "Go get her.  She deserves the worst we can do to her."  He nodded, kissing his lover again then heading out.  David watched him go, noticing that a uniform was now parked across the street.  He called the precinct, getting the night supervisor.  "Are we under watch?  There's a patrol car across the street from our new place," he said quietly.  "Please.  Sure, that's fine.  No, they called Xander already.  If he didn't call Ray too, Xander will.  Sure."  He hung up and watched, waiting while one of the night shift detectives came out to see who it was and why they were there.  The detective looked up and nodded, shaking his head and going back to his car.  The call a few minutes later told him that they were watching a suspected drug pusher next door and they'd watch over him too.  He thanked them and hung up, waiting for Xander to get back, but blowing out most of the candles.

***

Xander looked at the hospital room and sighed, putting on his plastic booties and then his gloves.  He looked at Ray.  "Spatter everywhere.  I've got spare booties in my case."  Ray nodded, grabbing some to put over his sneakers and gloves for himself, walking inside after Xander.  "He wasn't stabbed, he was eviscerated," he said bitterly, looking at the body.  He took pictures first, carefully moving around one side of the bed, then the other, taking distance photos of both the body and the floor.  Then he had to change film and went back to the detail work.   "Is she still in the can?"

"Yeah, still in central holding.  Hasn't come up to ride to court yet," he admitted bitterly.  He looked at Xander.  "A few years back, we had a few of these.  We thought it was organ harvesting but the guy had a taste for livers and appendixes.  We never caught him."

"Hell," Xander muttered, shaking his head.  "I love psychos with a plan."  He moved to the window, looking out it since it was open.  "Ray."  He came over and looked at the body hanging out there on a very thin line.  The rope was around the neck, and the body was dead.  "I'm not scaling the side of the building to take photos."

Ray patted him on the back.  "I want a more experienced guy here anyway.  This is starting to look bad."  Xander nodded, removing a glove to dial his phone, then changing that glove for a new one, carefully bagging the glove in case it had come into contact with anything.  A few minutes later, a nurse stuck her head in.  "It's gonna be a while," he told her.  "Like days."

"We'll need the room.  We're nearly full, detective."

Xander looked at her.  "Nurse, do you know how the guy hanging out this window got there?"  She looked stunned and slowly shook her head.  "Until we do, it's our room.  Unfortunately I'd love to release it early but I can't.  The only ones allowed in here are CSI and in a few minutes the ME."  She nodded, going to tell the shift supervisor this new bit of information. Xander looked over as the night shift ME stuck his head around the corner.  "You're gonna hate me.  Got some strong guys?"

"No, just me."

"You'll need some strong guys," Ray told him, pointing out the window.  "One hanging."

"Oh, wonderful.  I'll let them know and get some haulers here."  He went to make that call from the desk, coming back a few minutes later to slide under the tape Xander had put up.  He carefully moved around the edge of the room, glancing at the body. "That looks familiar."

"About two years ago, liver and appendix guy."

"Wonderful," he said sarcastically.  He shifted over to look out the window, then shook his head.  "I have no idea how we'll get him down without more trauma."

"Cherry picker?" Xander suggested.  "Or ladder fire truck.  Your choice, you make the call," he said dryly.  "Once a more senior CSI gets here, I'm going to secondary."

"That's fine, Xander.  I understand fully.  This is not your main field."  Someone coughed from the doorway.  "Ah, detective.  Yours?"  He nodded.

"Mine earlier," Ray told him.  "Beaten by his woman."

The other detective muttered.  "Yay.  Now?"

"Opened belly, blood spatter," Xander told him, shrugging a bit.  "Which senior CSI is coming?"

"Tracy was outside.  He was pulling out his gear case."

Xander shook his head.  "No, we need a *senior* CSI.  I'm not sure Tracy's ever handled a serial either."  He looked at his teammate as he came in.  "Possible serial."

"I'm not touchin' it," he agreed.  "I'll do secondary."  He nodded.  "Xander?"

"I called," he admitted.  "It was a domestic earlier that I worked."

"Fine.  Let me get booties and gloves on.  Bad splatter.  No gaps?"

"One," Xander said, pointing it out.  "I've taken some pictures, changed film and started again.  We've got a second body out the window too."

"I'll get a ladder truck," he promised, going to make the call before he put on his gloves.  Their top, senior CSI, the guy who transferred in with twenty years of experience already, walked up the hall, sighing loudly.  "Vecchio said it looks like a repeat of a few years ago," he offered.

"I wasn't here then," he noted.  He looked in the room and put on booties and gloves as well, walking under the tape with the detective behind him.  "What have we here?"

"Missing parts and a guy on a thread, Tyler," Xander said, nodding outside.  He pointed at the gap.  "I'm guessing medical equipment rolling stand by the shape.  Or a bed table."  He handed over his camera.  "I've already snapped a roll and changed it.  I got the body, the floor, the blood, any details in the blood, a distance shot from the corner, but no shots of the hanging guy."

"That's fine, Xander."  He moved over there to look out, taking a few pictures.  "Interesting.  That cord shouldn't hold him.  If he was alive when he went down, it should have snapped.  Where is it anchored?"  Xander pointed at the nearby awning anchor.  That's what they used to hang banners off the front of the hospital with.  "Is that steel thread?"

Xander shrugged and looked at the window.  "I haven't even dusted for prints yet."

"That's fine.  You'll find a great many I'm sure.  Do the window as well.  Tracy, come here and do detail drawings of the blood and the body.  Then when Xander's done dusting, I'll let him climb out there to look at the rope and take pictures of that."  Xander gave him a look.  "Are you afraid of heights?"

"No, I'm afraid of falling off the narrow ass ledge," he said honestly.  "Only with safety equipment."

"Of course."  He looked at Ray.  "Your involvement?"

"He was a domestic earlier.  His wife beat him and his car to get to him."

"Wonderful.  She is....?"

"In Holding."

"Hell.  And the possible serial?"

"Two years ago.  Guy who liked to cut so he could have livers and appendixes.  I don't know why.  I didn't get to catch him.  Narco caught him buying the drug he used to knock them out first. I'll get the file and send it down."

"That's fine.  I'd welcome the comparison to see if it's him."   He went back to looking at the body while Xander worked on the window, smiling because the boy was also doing the outer edge.  Very ingenious.  Being out there, he could have braced on it. Xander got his safety equipment with Ray holding the end of his line, and dusted the outside of the window, finding a few more prints.  Then he went to dust the holder the line was tied to.  "What sort of rope is that, Xander?"

"Steel thread with what looks like silk outer casing," he called back.  "Climber's rope.  Speciality stuff."  He waved at the fire truck coming up, looking at the guy in the basket.  "Hey."

"Do you often get to do this stuff, Harris?"

"Hell no," he snorted.  "We need him down the easiest and least harmed and contaminated you can.  Got a sheet?"

"Yeah.  We stole one from the clean laundry pile.  The nurses okayed it.  Wrap him and then bring him?"

"That's fine.  It's got a steel core.  It's a specialty climbing rope, like for when you're doing heavy climbing or hanging your hammock."

"Even better.  Thanks for the warning.  Leave the rope around his neck?"

"If possible.  If not, I'll untie and you can wind it up and bag it."  The fireman nodded, moving the basket closer to the body.  He pulled out the sheet and started behind the body, closing it over the front and pinning it a few times to the victim's clothing.  Then he looked at the cord.  Xander looked at him when he shook his head.  "Can't cut it?"

"No, not easily."

"Fine.  Grab him.  I'm going to untie."  The fireman got the body into the basket and he lifted it a bit, giving Xander some slack to deal with the knot.

They both looked up at the sound of crying.  "Shit," they muttered.

Xander tossed down the rope, watching as the fireman bagged it neatly with the body, then moved the basket up.  "Need help?" he asked as they passed him.

"No, get inside before we have to rescue you too."

"Yes, sir.  One more print to lift."  He lifted that one and covered it, then slowly inched back inside.  "Attempting jumper above us," he reported.  "Fireman's up there now."  Ray groaned.  "Tyler, we couldn't cut the cord...."

"I heard, that's fine, Xander.  Get anything?"

"About four good and one or two partial," he admitted, looking at what he had lifted.  "And two smudges that might be able to be clarified."  He put them into the envelope and handed them to Tyler, then went into the bathroom to check it.  "Ewwww!" he called, backing out.  "Was he pregnant?"

The ME looked.  "No, he's male."

"Then we've got a missing baby too."  He pointed and shook his head.  "I don't wanna know," he announced.

"I understand," Tyler agreed, heading to work on that one himself.  "Xander, I'll see you at shift change tomorrow.  Work with Hodges on Trace on this one.  Write your preliminary report tonight.  I want it carried in with him if you're going to be late."

"Tomorrow's my day off," Xander said dryly.  Tyler looked at him.  "I'll send in the report and be there if I'm needed.  I can't process fingerprints.  Hodges was clear as of when we left."

"Really?  How?" Tyler asked.

"Easy, I had a light night."

"Oh, that's fine.  Look over his shoulder, even if you only come in for lunch," he ordered, smiling at him.  "Bring him something to eat."

"Yes, sir."  He carefully walked out and took off his gloves and booties, bagging them with his first glove and repacking.  He looked at the nurse.  "There's another body," he whispered.  "It's gonna be at least two days."  She sighed and nodded, heading to report that.  "Also, attempted jumper with the fireman."

"We heard," she called back.  "He was freaked out by the body on the way down, agreed to get help."  She shook her head as Xander walked out.

***

Xander came home a few hours later, smiling at his sleeping lover on the couch, covering him gently and sitting in front of him to work on his report.  He detailed the earlier call again, up to what he had found and where, and included the jumper.   He hoped this was somehow related.  When he was done, he was yawning, but he emailed it to Mort and Tyler, with a note on the bottom saying he'd print it once he found his printer.  Then he checked the time on the small display, finding it was fairly late.  He looked at David, who was soundly sleeping, and smiled, curling up down there on the floor.  There was a spare couch pillow and he was warm enough.

***

David woke up and yawned, pausing when he saw the open laptop.  He looked down, finding the deeply asleep Xander so looked at the report, frowning a bit.  That was one hell of a scene, and it was definitely something he remembered.  He called Tyler at home.  "It's David," he reported.  "Call Vegas.  We had one almost exactly like that, down to the baby in the bathroom, about eight months before we got Xander.  Yeah, I mean exactly.  Drove Catherine and Warrick nuts.  Not that I remember, but you should still call them.  They might have an idea and can maybe compare the two?"  He nodded.  "Sure.  Look in your inbox.  I see his email open.  Thanks, man."  He hung up and laid down, watching Xander sleep like the dead.  He saw a gentle smile start and brushed a finger down the ridge of Xander's nose.  "Wakey wakey.  Your back's going to be killing you."  Xander moaned and moved, capturing his finger.  "Xander, no time for morning playing."

Xander blinked up at him, letting go of the finger.  "Yes there is."

"No there's not," he said with a small grin.  "We're both going to have to go in today."

"Damn it."

"I know."  He leaned down to kiss him.  "We can at least shower together."

Xander looked at the display on his clock, then at his mate.  "We've got four hours."

"We have to unpack the clothes."

"Damn."

Hodges laughed and nodded.  "I know.  Let's shower together, then do that, okay?"

"Okay."  He heaved himself up, wincing a bit as his back settled again.  "Oooh, floor hard."

"Floor very hard," he agreed, letting Xander help him up and into the bathroom.  Fortunately the electric was on so he didn't have to heat water again.  It was even a fairly roomy shower, which was good since he liked to let Xander scrub his back.

***

Gil Grissom answered his cellphone.  "Grissom."  He blinked a few times.  "Hodges?"  He listened to him outline a familiar sounding case.  "I remember that one.  Yeah.  Who had it?"  He looked it up in his private notes.  "I'll send you a summary of what we have.  Sure.  Who's primary CSI?"  He smiled.  "That's fine.  Who's secondary?  They let Xander handle this sort of case as secondary?"  He listened to the explanation.  "Ah.  I understand.  That happens here too.  Sure.  As soon as I can get Catherine or Warrick into the office to get it for you.  Sure.  Write more often.  Greg was pouting."  He smiled.  "Congratulations.  Have a good day."  He hung up and called Warrick, he'd still be up.  "Warrick, Grissom.  Remember that case with the hospital, the dead guy, the hanging body, and the baby?  Chicago just got one like that.  Hodges told their lead CSI and they want to compare.  Yeah, that one.  Sure.  Thanks."  He hung up and smiled.  He'd tell Greg he had heard from them later, if he remembered.  Xander being in the field surprised him but they were still a bit understaffed and Xander was anxious to help when and where he could.

***

Xander looked up as the fax came across.  It was in his office because his phone line was the one that had the split.  It was a booboo in the construction, but that was fine with him.  He looked at it as it came out.  "Hodges?  Similar case from Vegas?"

"Yeah.  Give those to Tyler."

"Sure.  Tyler!  Fax from Vegas!"

"Coming."  He jogged in and gathered things as they came through, flipping through them.  "Nearly the same," he said, agreeing with Hodges on this.  One last page came through and he smiled, handing that to Xander.  "I'd say that was a pouting Greg."

"Me too," he agreed, going to show his boyfriend.  Hodges grinned at that.  "Call on our lunch?"

"Sure."  He took it and put it on his board.  Xander would probably remember but he'd get caught up in something.  "I could use some help."

"Sure."  He came in to help with the rope, going inch by inch under the microscope looking for samples.  He found a few hairs, but they didn't have roots.  He put them down anyway.  He got a swab for ephithelials from the knot around the neck and rushed that to DNA and the dayshift fill-in.  Then the rest of it went by the numbers.  Searching clothes for clues.  Tape lifting.  Someone coughed from his lab.  "In here," he called.

"CSI Harris?" the man asked, looking at him.  Xander glanced at him and nodded.  "I heard you were ballistics."

"With a minor in Trace.  I'm helping.  What's wrong?"

"Federal Agent Ford."

Xander glanced at him again.  "Ray's told me about you."

"I'm sure it was very charming, sir.  May I have a moment?"

"When I'm finished with this sample so I don't lose my place and make the other guy do it all."  He went back to tape lifting the front of the shirt, doing the sleeves and the sides as well.  Then he flipped it over.  "Hodges, I got the front, sides, and sleeves.  All that's left is the back," he said, folding his tape properly and putting it in an envelope, marking it with the 'what, how, and who' markings they used.  Then he walked back into his lab, closing the door between the two.  "What's up?  New ballistics samples?"

"No, sir, we got a report about a warehouse out in LA that's being rented by you that has some munitions?"

"Yeah, they're mine," he agreed.  "They're out there because I wasn't sure how to move them here without getting you guys busting in my door at two in the morning."

"I see."  He frowned at him.  "Why would you need such ordinance, sir?"

"First, hobby.  I am a ballistics person.  I like guns and weapons.  Second, hallmark of my former life."

"Former life? Were you in a gang or a terrorist cell, sir?"

"No.  Actually I used to work for Wolfram and Hart out there when it was under Angel's control."

"Huh?"

Xander smirked.  "Do a background search on me first, Agent Ford.  It's usually more helpful first when you're dealing with me.  That's what I always suggest."

"I did, sir.  I didn't find a single thing.  Including your educational record.  Though UCLA did say you did graduate with high marks and near honors."

"Um, honors.  Top ten percent honors."

"They said near."

Xander pulled down his diploma and showed it to him.  "Honors," he said, pointing at that line.  "They said so."

"Okay, if you say so.  I thought UCLA's were blue."

"That's the home copy.  The framing copy is very light blue, I've got it in a tinted pane."  He released it and let him look at it.  "See?"

"I do, sir.  Thank you.  Um, could you come with me?"

"Hell no.  Do you have a warrant?"  He smiled sweetly.  The agent shook his head.  "Then I've answered your questions.  Were any of those things illegal?"  He shook his head.  "Stolen?"  He shook his head again.  "Then I'm storing them until such a time as I can bring them where I live, in case I have to deal with something else that's going to make the world end.   Now, if you'd like references, you can talk to the people I interned under in Las Vegas.  One of who is next door.  I told them I had them but I didn't know how to move them closer without being guilty of taking them across state lines."

"Sir. What did you do before?" he asked.

Xander sighed and shook his head.  "Go upstairs.  Talk to Welsh."

"He said talk to you."

"Come on.  David, heading upstairs with the Fed."  He walked him up the stairs, taking him to Welsh and closing the door.  "In the presence of my superior office, I'm going to share some information."

"I'm on with the mayor.  Bad timing, Xander."

"Sorry."  He looked at him.  "What do....  Are you local?"  He nodded quickly.  "What do you know about places like the temple down on Ash?"

"Um, nothing.  I didn't know there was a temple down there."

"That's fine."  He looked at Welsh, who held up a finger and said something, then hung up.  He looked at the agent again.  "Okay.  There's a temple on Ash.  It's devoted to those who have passed on.  It's got a very calm feel for ninety percent of the population."

"Are you saying you're psychic?"

"Actually, I am a medium," he admitted.  "I'm also one of those who handle things like what roams around down on Drew."

"I've seen some odd things down there," he admitted carefully.  "Funny colored people and the like."

Xander groaned, looking at Welsh for advice.

"Take him out there, Harris.  It's the only you won't get into trouble."

"Fine.  Then I'm taking an hour and taking him down to Bezoar's."  He walked the agent out, pulling him out to his car.  He got him into his car and down the road before he protested.  "I'm taking you somewhere you can get some proof of why I have such good weapons," he said at the opening mouth.  "Just relax.  They won't hurt you.  I know they won't."  He parked a few minutes later and walked the Fed inside, looking at the bartender.  "Tell me this isn't a dead day."

"Not in the least, it's just early," the bartender told him, putting out a rootbeer for him.  "What's in it for the suit?"

"Someone found my warehouse with my weapons."

"You should have magiced them here, kid."

"I know but that's still illegal," he pointed out dryly.  "I'd have to arrest myself."  He walked him around to the back room with his rootbeer, tapping with his foot before opening the door.  "Hi, guys.  This is Agent Ford."  They all stared then smiled and waved.  "He found my weapons."

"Wonderful," one of the demons said.

"Hmm.  Going to move them?" another asked in an upper crust British accent.

"I wish I could."  He looked at the sweating agent.  "Do they look like funny colored people now, Agent Ford?"  He whimpered and shook his head. "Unfortunately these guys are the good guys, the nice guys.  There are bad guys among their kind too.  It used to be part of my calling to help take care of the bad guys.  The ones who ate people like you for shits and giggles.  There were some of them who tried to take over the city, the world, and end it all.  I dealt with that too."

He looked at him.  "Why aren't you in Cleveland?"

"Because Buffy Summers can kiss my ass.  She didn't appreciate me when she had me, she doesn't deserve me now for kidnaping David Hodges."  Ford nodded quickly.  "Now, if you'd like to help me move my weapons here, I wouldn't mind," he offered with a slight grin.  "I'm actually retired from that life now.  Unless the city's grabbing its ankles and bending over to take it up the ass, I don't do that anymore."

Agent Ford swallowed and looked at the demons, then at him.  "I understand, CSI Harris.   You were from Sunnydale?"

"My class had the school blow up," he said grimly.  "I was there."

"All right.  I'll accept that and put it back to my superiors that you, as a ballistics person, do have a small collection going but were unable to figure out how to transport them legally across state lines.  I'll see if we can help you with that."  He looked at him.  "Why is Cleveland under a cloud of misery?"

"Hmm.  Not a clue," he admitted.  "I've stayed out of Cleveland.  Ya know what, there's a young woman there who would know but isn't connected to Buffy any longer either.  Her younger sister, Dawn.  She's in one of the housing developments there.  You can ask her those questions."

"Thank you.  Is this city in danger?"

"If it was, would I be smiling?"

"No.  I don't think you would be.  Can we come to you for this stuff?"

"I'm retired, honey.  There's people in the PD who handle that and I do occasionally help them when needed."  He nodded quickly and backed out.  "Thanks, guys."  He smirked at them.  "David's fine by the way and we just moved.  So you guys only get the cell number from now on.  Unfortunately someone broke in and drugged him and I went into super fuss mode."

The demons smiled. The British one winked.  "We already know where you moved, Knight.  It's not an issue.  Be safe, Agent Ford.  Remember, you can be transferred to the real X Files now that you know."  He shuddered and turned, running out.  "Better?"

"I don't know why they wanted to know about legal weapons," Xander said grimly.  "I have no idea.  Thanks, guys."  He walked out sipping his rootbeer, tipping the bartender.  "Laters."

"Tonight?"

"Oooh, bad case.  Not unless I come in crying from it," he said plainly.  He shrugged a bit.  "Dead kid."  He walked out to his car, noticing the agent was already inside.  He got in to drive him back to the precinct, then went inside to report to Welsh what had happened and that he might get his weapons after all.  Then he went back to work.

"You missed some on the sides," Hodges said as he walked in.

"Sorry.  I couldn't find the forms to stretch it over.  I used my hand.  Badly missed?"

"A few more hairs without tags."  He shrugged.  "Happens to the best of us.  That's why I checked."  He stole a kiss. "Have fun?"

"Yeah.  Kinda."  He grinned.  "I might get my stuff from LA."  He went back to helping, making sure his rootbeer was well away from everything.

***

Warrick looked at the preliminary notes that had been sent from Chicago.  "It's exactly the same," he decided.  "Same ways killed, same positions of the bodies, nothing with DNA left.  Exactly the same."

Catherine and Grissom both nodded at him.  "So we're booking you on a flight with the evidence we collected," Grissom told him.  "I can let one person go with you.  Your choice."

Warrick gave him a slight smirk.  "Greg would kill you if you didn't let him go."

"He's eligible to go," Grissom admitted with a smirk of his own.  "I had holding pull all the boxes and the bags, they're all boxed up in a sealed case for you.  Remember to act professionally and don't let Xander squeal too much in the field."

"He's in the field now too?" Warrick said, looking confused.

"They're still a bit understaffed and Mort says that he wants Xander to keep all his training fresh and active.  So he does about a day a week in the field with the detectives.  This case started out as a domestic, which was his case, and then moved to this once the poor guy was admitted," Grissom told him.  "They've got three CSI's on this case at the moment.  Xander voluntarily stepped back from primary when they thought it might be a local serial from a few years ago. Apparently they had a person who stole livers and appendixes."

"Fine.  I'll make sure no one else wanted to go with me," Warrick decided as he stood up.  "Thanks, Grissom.  They can put me up?"

"I've already talked to Hodges.  As long as you can stand his cooking and keep Xander away from the stove, yes," Catherine said with a small grin.  "They've got two spare rooms in their new place."

"That's fine."  He headed out, going to look at the size of the case the evidence was in, then go talk to the others, who were basically in the lounge for shift change.  "I've got to head to Chicago for a serial case.  Anyone besides Greg wanna go?"  Nick snickered and shook his head.  Sarah looked alarm and shook hers quickly.  He looked at their former Oversight, now CSI person, who smiled and shook her head.  "Okay.  Greg, you've got an hour.  Pack for at least a week.  I'm sure we can do laundry at Xander's.  Then we're flying out with the evidence to liaison.  No squealing."

"Yes, sir," he said happily, going to pick up his puppy and do all that.  He was back within an hour and Warrick looked at the carrying case.  "He wanted to see his mommy."

"I'm still not sure why you got Nick's namesake," he said, shaking his head.  "It's just a bit odd."

"He liked to curl up on my stomach," Greg reminded him with a grin.  "I called my advisor too, told him I'd be gone for at least a week.  He said he'd talk to my other teachers."  Warrick nodded at that.  "So, bad case?"

"Remember the hospital case with the baby and the hanging guy?"

"Yeah," Greg said slowly.

"Same thing, different city."  He checked the mirrors and pulled out, heading for the airport.  Once there, the case was examined under their careful watch, locked again, then loaded onto their plane while they checked in.  Warrick got the window seat; Greg was hyper and he'd bounce the entire trip.

***

Xander looked up and grinned as the door opened and two patrol officers carried in a locking case.  "Well, if it's not a Warrick person," he said with a fond smirk.  "And a Greg."

"Yup, 'tis us," Greg said happily, hugging him.  "I brought little Nick with me too."  He put the dog down on the counter, letting him out so he could be loved by the grandfather.  His dog finally wiggled down and went to find a houseplant, marking his new territory, then went to find his mother, curling up with her in Xander's lab.  "What's going on?"

"Nothing much.  Just got moved again.  Hodges!  Mort!"

"I heard, I'll be right out," Hodges called.

"Xander, I'm elbow deep," Mort complained as he came to the door.  "Ah.  You're here," he offered with a smile.  "Good.  Xander, Tyler?"

"Not at home, didn't answer his cell about a half hour ago.  I was going to try again so we could have a preliminary meeting."

"Of course.  Use one of the interrogation rooms upstairs, Xander. That way the detectives don't have to travel."  He looked at the case.  "Move that into the empty corner, we'll break it out in a few minutes."  He went back to his body and his opera.

Warrick listened, then shook his head.  "He does music during autopsies?"

"Yeah, he likes Opera.  I got him this massive box set for the holidays last year."  He tried Tyler's cellphone again, getting his voicemail.  "It's Xander," he greeted.  "Warrick and Greg are here from Vegas.  We're having a meeting.  Hurry back."  He hung up.  "Voicemail.  It's his night off."  He finished what he was doing then bundled up the large piece of fabric, putting all the tape lifts away.  "I should just take a lint roller to it, but ours is out."  The fabric sample was put into a bag and retaped, marked as unfinished, then put into Xander's spot on the shelves.  He went to grab their files from Tyler's office, then Hodges, then they headed up the stairs to coopt Vecchio before he went home and the other guy since he should already be in.  He found them arguing over that case.  "Then let's compare with the identical one from Las Vegas, shall we?" he interrupted.  "Now, if you wouldn't mind?  Tape lifting is more exciting than watching you two argue."  They both snorted and followed him.  "I've called Tyler, he's not answering.  Tracy's in the field as well.  Fortunately I'm still listed as a secondary."  His pager went off and he looked at it.  "Fuck me.  SWAT.  Be right back."  He rushed up the stairs, heading up to see what was wrong.  "Yeah?" he demanded.

"Xander, qualifications are due tonight," he said gently.

"I handed the folder over last month, and we're dealing with a multiple homicide and a similar case from Vegas.  Can't find the folder?"

"No."  He looked at his very neat and clean desk.  "Did the day shift person have it?"

Xander shrugged.  "How should I know?"

"Point.  Go back to what you were doing."  He nodded, heading that way.  He shook his head.  Xander's file would be found.  He called the office, just to make sure it wasn't already there and found it was, but it was missing a few things.  So he went to get those from Mort's master file and found it missing.  He went to talk to Mort, ignoring the body on the table. "Xander's file is missing?"

"It shouldn't be.  It was on my bookshelf, right next to the _Art of War_."

"I'll go look again.  His file to the demo board was light."  He went to look and found it there, and full.  So he faxed that over to them, then carefully hid the file again.  With the trouble Xander got into, it was probably a better idea to hide those sort of things.  He noticed the large case in the corner and looked at it as Tracy came in.  "What's that?"

"Traditionally an evidence mover.  Where's Xander?"

"Upstairs.  Something about a case with Vegas?"

"Yup, that's mine too," he said bitterly, heading up there with his notes.  He tapped on the door he heard the shouting in, walking in at the quiet.  "Sorry.  Slight case of gang stupidity.  Xander, I've got four guns lying down on the main table for you."

"Wonderful.  I love presents," he said with a smirk.

"That'll keep him out of my hair for a few minutes at least," Hodges said dryly, smirking at Tracy.  "Seen Tyler?"

"Nope."

"He's not answering his cell," Xander said.

Tracy pulled out his, calling him at home.  "No answer," he said after a few minutes.  He looked at Xander, who looked worried.  "You're paranoid."

"Yeah, but usually with good reason," he reminded him.  He got up and went down to the front desk.  "Can someone swing by CSI Tyler's place and see if he's just ignoring us?" he asked politely.  "We need him in for a conference."

The desk sergeant looked at him and shook his head.  "Kinda hard to do.  He was just in an auto accident.  No need for you guys."

"Excuse me?" he demanded.  "One of us was in an accident and you didn't tell us?"

"Son, it was much too late," he said as gently as he could.

Xander took a deep breath, then turned and hit the wall next to the desk.  He looked at the sergeant again, calmer now.  "We're dealing with a serial, multiple homicide case.  They've switched cities.  Alert someone downstairs so they can go to the scene and process it."

"Kid....."

"Now," Xander growled.  "You don't do this to your own and you don't do this to the other people who work for the department."

"It was a simple auto accident."

"Was it a hit and run?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then it's our domain anyway!" he shouted.  The sergeant backed off.  "How dare you!"  He stomped off, heading downstairs.  "Guys!" he shouted, bringing Mort running.  He looked at him.  "The desk didn't call down.  Tyler was in a hit and run," he said quietly. Mort opened his mouth and he shook his head.

"I'll send someone to talk to his wife and someone to process the scene," Mort agreed.  "Go back upstairs, Xander.  I'll talk to Welsh."

"Why?  He's in our conference anyway."  He stomped off, heading past the silent patrol officers with a glare.  Then he slammed back in upstairs, looking at Tracy.  "He was in a hit and run."

"Who's responding?"

"Desk never told us.  Mort's assigning now."

"Is he..." Welsh started.  Xander shook his head, still looking pissed.  "They never told you?"

"The sergeant said it wasn't our sort of case basically, that it didn't matter."

"Someone and I are going to have a long talk," Welsh said firmly.  "Sit, Xander.  We'll start in a few minutes, when you're calmer.  It's probably not related."

Xander looked at him.  "The Myers case is going next week," he said simply.  "So is that domestic with the murderer.  So's that arsonist."

"Hell," Welsh muttered.  "So's that one case with the dirty cop," he pointed out.  Xander nodded.  "Fine.  I'll make sure I know why you guys weren't called."

"Xander, why is your hand red?" Greg asked.

"I hit a wall."

"Want some ice?" David offered.

Xander shook his head.  "Not even bruised.  It's more my blood pressure at the moment."  He looked at Welsh.  "I generously pointed out that they didn't do that to you guys or anyone else that worked here, so doing it to us was wrong.  They were a bit quiet when I came back up."

"How many of these cases were yours too?" Greg asked.

"Most involved me somehow.  The arsonist and the dirty cop case were mine and his only."  He grimaced at David.  "If it's either one of them, you're coming armed."

"Speaking of, you need to do your range qualification," Welsh reminded him.

"Can I shoot the people responsible?"

"Nope, sorry.  Do that tonight. It'll help blow off some steam."

"I need to get my eyes checked first."

"Fine.  Do it once you've done that.  Just do it by the end of the month."

"That's in three days!"

"And?" Welsh demanded.  "We sent you a memo."

"I never got it," he sighed, rubbing his face.  "SWAT's captain said my folder for the demo board was missing."

"Then it's probably the dirty cop case," Vecchio agreed.  "Your new place is safe, right?"  Xander and Hodges both nodded.  "You sure?"

"Yeah, and we've got two cops as neighbors.  We're fine," David told him. He looked at his lover, giving him a long stare.  Xander calmed himself.  "Okay, these distractions aside, we've got to get down to this case. Hopefully before he strikes again."

Xander nodded, rubbing his face.  "Let's see.  Earlier in the day it was mine and Ray's case.  A domestic.  He was being beaten by his wife."  He looked at Warrick.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem.  These things happen to us too."  He looked in his folder.  "Ours wasn't an earlier case, but she did have a bad check warrant out for her.  The hanging one was not in the system at all, but did have ID in his pocket.  The child was from the nursery."

Xander flipped open his notes.  "Our hanging guy was a priest, the hospital's chaplain, and the baby was miscarried earlier.  Hadn't been picked up yet."  They exchanged notes, looking them over.  "Similar looks to the victims."

"Similar types of people too," Warrick agreed.  "Coincidence?"

"Probably not.  It'd have been easier to reach that hanger from the next room over," Xander admitted.  "Ray, did you get the autopsy reports?"

"On all three," he admitted, looking at them.  "Bed guy was eviscerated, blood loss was cause of death.  Part of his small intestine was missing as was his stomach and one tooth, not sure if that was then or during the assault according to the notes Mort gave me.  Hanging guy was a broken neck, hanging was post mortem but only by minutes.  Some minor bruising, but mostly from the fall Mort thought.  Broken blood vessels shortly after death, before they could congeal."  Everyone nodded at that.  "Mort's notes about the baby stated that it died due to drug allergy?  Something the mother was taking compromised it and made it seize according to what he saw."  He looked at Warrick.  "Miscarriage was cause of death.  Unviable when born."

Warrick looked at Greg, who had the autopsy reports in his bag.  "Ours?" he prompted.

Greg looked at them.  "Um, bed guy was cut in the throat post mortem, stomach wound was cause of blood loss that killed him.  Exsanguination. Missing parts of his stomach by the cuts made.  No other vital organs listed as injured except for what Doc Robbins thought was an incidental cut from the opening of the stomach in the small intestines.  Hanging guy was a broken neck, then hung immediately afterward.  Baby was smothered."  He looked at Ray.  "Evidence?"

Xander looked at him and shook his head.  "Some broken hairs.  No DNA tags that we could find in the lot of them.  Hairs on the t-shirt the guy in the bed was wearing.  Some on the climbing rope.  Warrick, what sort of rope was used?"

"Household, dollar-ninety-nine at Walmart, silk and cotton."

"Ours was a specialty climbing rope," Xander offered.  "Steel shaft.  Heavy lifting sort."

"It was reported late that night that it had been stolen from the locker of someone," Tracy offered quietly.

"So, rope was at hand," the other detective offered, shaking his head.  "Similar victims, same posing, possibly the same injuries - just not finished on that first case.  Xander, I know you.  Did you do a profile search?"

"I don't have access to that, but I did call them," Xander offered.  "The main guy's in the field in Texas, won't be back until tomorrow.  The person answering said it didn't sound familiar but...."  He trailed off, shaking his head.  "It can't be the dirty cop case.  None of them got bond."  Welsh looked at him. "They're all still in a cell.  In solitary with monitored meetings."  He shrugged.  "They couldn't have done this.  So it's not that case."  He sat up.  "Oh, damn."  He looked at Greg.  "We've got an appeal coming.  You should have gotten a subpoena?"

"I did," he agreed.  "For that jerk Jenkins and his many wives and daughters and cult...."  He groaned and shook his head.  "You're sure?"

"Pretty.  Yeah."  He looked at Ray, then at Welsh.  "That was Tyler's case, my case, Evelyn's case, and Greg's case."

"Evelyn died of a stroke a few weeks back," Tracy said quietly.

"Actually," Welsh admitted.  "The autopsy was inconclusive.  Yeah, she had a stroke, but there was medicine in her system that could have provoked a stroke.  Mort wasn't sure so he ruled it a natural death and warned me, just in case."  Tracy just gaped, then stared at Xander, who nodded.

Greg looked at him.  "Helping Mort with the paperwork?"

"Typing while he ate actually.  He was backlogged and I was free. We share that honor now and then."

"I hate the medical terminology," Hodges agreed. "That was my duty last night."

"Mort needs a helper," Welsh said, making a note of that on the pad in front of him, along with Xander's hypothesis.

"Um, the two year rule doth apply," Xander pointed out grimly.  Tracy gaped at him.  "You guys all got hired after me."

"Oh, shit," Tracy said, shuddering.  "Please, Lieutenant, help poor Mort find someone so we're not subjected to Xander running us?" he pleaded.

"I'm still looking," he admitted.  He looked at him.  "The mayor likes him, he does paperwork on time.  He's got good PR since he's gay too.  Makes us look less like neanderthals to the public."  Xander just smiled sweetly at them.

"Hey, he could use the raise," Hodges said dryly.  "I'll only get spoiled more.  Maybe we'll get a housekeeper."

Xander looked at him.  "Sure.  Find one and tell me," he agreed.  "We can afford it, right?"  Hodges nodded.  "Then I'm fine with it."

"Thanks, Xander," he offered with a smile.  "See, I get spoiled," he told Warrick.

"I can see that," he agreed dryly.

The other detective gave them all odd looks.  "I take it you worked with Xander in the past?"

"He did his year's internship there," Welsh told him.  "That's why we got LVPD to sub in for us when we had that manpower thing."

"Hmmmm."  He looked at Xander.  "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not, but I won't share how I nearly tied Greg to a chair to keep him too."

"Greedy," Greg snorted.  "Hodges wouldn't share you."

"More than I needed to know," Warrick announced.

"He's just picking on Xander," David assured him smugly.  "Greg got all of Xander's castoffs in the club.  Like that night with the salsa club."

"That night we *all* got Xander's castoffs," Warrick reminded him.  "How was yours?"

"Cute. Simpering, but cute.  She liked geeks."

Ray looked at Xander.  "Why can't you do that here and take me?"

"I did. You growled at the woman I sent you," he offered with a smirk.  "We can go again but you've got to ask permission for me."

Ray looked at Hodges.  "Can I take him out for a night so he can find me a woman?"

"Sure. Go right ahead," he agreed. "You know the Xander care and feeding instructions as well as I do.  You helped perfect them."

"True," Ray agreed, smirking at Xander.

"What am I, one of those pre-gremlin mugwais?"

"No, you're much more dangerous, dear," Hodges assured him with a smirk.  "That's why people want to keep you."

"Just for that, I'm thinking singing telegram."

"Do it and sleep on the floor for a month and eat your own cooking," Hodges said firmly.

"No letting him near the stove," Welsh reminded him quickly.  "Or else we'll have to arrest him for assaulting those officers who ate the food he put into the refrigerator the last time.  By the way, there were four of them, two more called off sick."

"I tried," Xander defended.  "It wasn't my fault I couldn't find the pepper shaker, I only substituted light peppers."

"We heard about that," Warrick admitted.  "That shouldn't have done that much damage."

"He didn't drain it very well and there were hot peppers in the bread too," Hodges assured him.  "I'm very sorry Xander did that to them.  I'll keep my poor puppy on a better leash in the future, Lieutenant."

"See that you do, CSI Hodges.  Though he is adorable when he's begging Ray for food, he needs a bit more obedience training so he doesn't rush into a firefight without his vest."  They both looked at Xander's now empty seat.  He was now under the table.

"At least I had a gun," he offered.  "Stan didn't."

"He and Vecchio should both go out armed each time they leave the house, along with carrying multiple sets of handcuffs," the Lieutenant said firmly, glaring at Ray, who only smirked back.  "Get back up here, Harris."

"Yes, sir," he offered weakly as he climbed back into his seat.  He saw the look his boyfriend was giving him.  "I told you about that," he defended.  "I told you I came up to where Stan and Rennie were out at the movies and were being shot at and helped them."

"You didn't say you had went in without a vest on, Xander."

"It's not like I wear it all the time," he complained.  "I only went out for ice cream."

"You went armed for ice cream?" Greg asked.

"He was being stalked at the time," Hodges told him.  "I insisted.  Next time I'll insist on a vest too."

"Yes, dear," he said with a pitiful look.  "Back to the case."  He shook his head.  "Um, no DNA.  Minimal trace elements in the blood pool.  Small gap from a bedside table it looked like.  I'm thinkin' he had a bag or some dishes, something like that.  Do you think he ate the parts?"

"That's gross, Xander," Ray said firmly.  "Some of us were heading home to eat dinner."

"Sorry," he said, looking down again, going back to Warrick's meticulous notes.  He frowned and grabbed his back, comparing them, then looked at Warrick.  "Some Trace in common too.  Dirt in the blood pool."

"Dirt?" Warrick asked, looking at the notes, getting up to look over his shoulder.  Xander pointed it out.  "There is.  Photo B."  He found it and looked at it, then at Xander's stack.  "Same shape too."

Xander frowned.  "That's not a magic mark in any language I've seen.  Just a clump.  I'll find that sample later so we can run it, see if we can compare them and find a source."

"Did that," Hodges announced.  "It was moist from more than blood.  Had a good bit of purified water in it."

"It's from consecrated ground?" Vecchio asked. "Like a graveyard?"

"Could be," Xander admitted. "Or just dirt from his yard and he was watering it."

"High phosphorus content," Hodges told him, nodding at Ray.  "I like his better unless he's using scorching fertilizer."

"Burning off old lawn to lay down new sod?" Xander suggested.

"Too heavy."  He looked at his notes, then passed them over to him.  "Here."

He and Warrick looked at it.  "Yeah, that's graveyard dirt," Warrick agreed.  He looked at Xander.  "It was just a little lump though."

"Not anywhere else in any of the blood," Xander reminded him.  "If it had fallen off his clothes it would have been more spread out."  He looked at it again.  "They found a crystal at theirs.  Tracy?"

"Not a one," he admitted, looking at his own notes.  "No, hold on.  On the baby.  We thought the mother had put it on there," he said, pushing the picture over.

"That's shaped like ours," Warrick agreed.  "Triangles?"

"Pyramids," Greg said patiently. "Keys and gates to the afterworld?" he offered.

"Mystical symbols of reincarnation," Xander agreed.  "Was there an age gap in yours?" he asked Warrick, handing him the folders.

"Some.  The vic on the bed and the hanging vic were about the same age."

"Why three?" Greg asked.

"Watching too much Charmed?" Xander quipped.  Welsh glared at him.  "Mystical in number, but not necessarily combined with the pyramid thing that I know of.  I'll look."

"There are three Great pyramids in Egypt together," Hodges pointed out.  "They were the starting point."

"So we've got a semi bad guy, a good guy, and an unclaimed and unbaptized infant?" Vecchio asked.

"We never asked," Warrick noted.

"Us either," Tracy offered. "I can though.  The mother wasn't particularly religious from what I remember.  No crossing herself, no cross worn, no prayers in my presence."  He looked at his notes.  "I didn't note anything about her mentioning it but I don't usually pay attention to that unless they say it every other sentence or something."

Xander shook his head.  "It wouldn't matter if they're not going on Christian ideology.  Remember, the world is a big place with many faiths.  Some of which used to do pyramids.  Mayans, Egyptians, there's some in some of the oldest of the old steppe temples and those ancient ones in Thailand too if I remember right.  I'll do a search tonight through the odd stuff databanks."

"Thanks, Xander.  Saves me from having to be traumatized and having to go to confession," the second detective offered.  "You know you're welcome in my church whenever you want to come, right?"

"Sure, and your priest still hates me.  Father Behan, Ray's family priest, took one look at me, crossed himself, and asked Ma why she let someone so unholy and not Catholic rest in her house."  Ray snickered.  "Ma told him I was still doing God's work, just from a different set of steps."  He grinned at him.  "I think Father Behan believes I'm a Satanist for some reason.  I don't know why.  Do you, Ray?"

"Yeah," he agreed, smirking at him.  "The gay thing, the longer hair, which needs a haircut, the guns.  He thinks you're a cult member out to steal his flock.  He asked me what faith you partook of so he could warn the others about you.  I told him you were a nice, normal ballistics guy who had some run-ins with things best left alone.  He said you stink of moral and soul decay."

"I only dated former demons when I could," he complained.  "It's not like Anya corrupted me or something."

"Dear," Hodges said patiently.  "I'm sure he's just being silly."

"I'd hope so.  I'm wondering how he can sense I'm from Sunnydale though."  He looked at Ray.  "The friendly neighborhood exorcist?"

"Sometimes he does seem to know a bit about that," Ray admitted.  "Want me to tell him?"

"Sure."  He shrugged.  "I'm still retired for the most part."

"Huh?" the second detective asked.

"I used to deal with the strange and unusual all the time.  I'm retired from that though.  The day I graduated was the day I retired."

"Oh, good," he agreed. "Is that why Stella thinks you're dragging Kowalski into a cult too?"  He nodded, smirking at him.  "Just don't do it to me.  I don't need ta know."

"My feelings exactly," Xander agreed.

David nodded.  "Mine too.  Though I do want you and Turnbull to quit going trolling."

"We weren't *trolling*," Xander defended.  Hodges stared him down and he slunk down a bit.  "I was teaching him?" he offered.  Hodges added some heat to the glare.  "Sorry, dear.  Just trying to keep in shape.  It's a good workout."

"Tough."

"Yes, dear."

"Did you tell Rennie he's not allowed to come over and play anymore?" Ray joked.

"No, but Stan did.  He was shouting at Renfield that he was doing dangerous stuff and that he wanted him to stop before he got hurt."

"Was this before or after Saturday?" Xander asked.

"After."

"Shit," Xander muttered.  "It was only a scratch!"

"Yay.  Stan's as fussy as you are."

"Yes, dear," he offered, giving him a slight grin.  "I'll let you come so you can babysit us."

"Fat chance," David snorted.  "I saw more than enough of that after Buffy took me."

"She was here?" Greg demanded.

Hodges nodded, looking at him.  "She followed her sister Dawn, who was hiding from her with her daughter in tow.  I got taken so he would hand over Dawn's daughter.  I got to see Xander and Turnbull fight first hand that night."

"I went to wear it out after that," Xander muttered.

"Excuse me?" Ray demanded.  "You did what?"

"Wore out the nervous tension by pacing," he offered, smiling sweetly.

"Xander, I have your rolodex," Hodges reminded him.  Xander shut up then.  "Good boy.  Just for that, you can have the treat of unpacking the library tonight."

"Yes, dear."  He looked at Warrick and Greg.  "We're putting you two up, right?"  They nodded. "I'll find the box with the towels too."

"Thanks, man," Greg said with a grin.  "You two are insane."

Hodges nodded, but Xander hopped up and hurried out with Ray right behind him because someone was screaming at the top of their lungs in the squad room.  Xander stopped, looking at the person yelling at her.  "Shut up!" he shouted, breaking into it.  He glared at the man, then at the girl.  "Sit down and shut up, you goth idiots!"

"Who are you to...." the man snarled but Xander slammed him against the wall, glaring at him.

"I'm beloved by the Master's children," he hissed, moving closer. "If you know anything about the underworld, you should know a Knight when you see one.  Now sit your pretty, petty ass down, little boy, before I show you what a *real* master looks like," he growled.  The goth wannabe sat down and stared up at him obediently.  "You too," he snapped, looking at the girl.  She sat, staring at him.  "Good.  Now behave!  We're doing more important things than this tonight.  I've got a serial killer to catch and you're distracting me."  He stomped off, going back to the meeting.

Ray walked in a few minutes later after getting someone to come process those two. "The next time I have to deal with the Goth crap, I'm taking you," he said before sitting down.

"They're wannabes who don't have a fucking clue and would piss themselves if they came into contact with a real vampire.  Of course I'll go," Xander agreed bitterly.

Hodges looked at Ray.  "If you let him get hurt, I'd have to beat you."

"I know. I doubt they will."  He looked at Welsh.  "The two kids from earlier.  He snarled in the supposed Master's face."

"Good work, Harris.  We like it when you scare the suspects without having to hurt them."

"She jerked wrong," he defended.

"I know.  Still."

"First case here," Hodges told Warrick.  "She tried to get away from him."  He nodded, accepting that.  "Broken wrist."

"It happens," he agreed.  "Brass had one of those last month."  He looked at the notes.  "Okay, so tonight we're going over the evidence we brought you.  We'll do those searches.  We'll...."  The door opened and someone stuck their head in.  "Yes?" he asked patiently.

"Lieutenant, I'm with IA.  We had a complaint about one of your people attacking a sergeant?"

"No, I attacked a wall so I didn't hit him," Xander told him.  "They were covering up the fact that one of our CSI had been in a hit and run and hadn't bothered to call us or tell us."

"I see.  Not you, Harris."  He smiled at him.  "Though, that note after that night out at the club was most amusing.  I got to catalog that onto our 'that stuff happens to me' list."  He looked at Welsh.  "It was Kowalski and Luren?  Something about a fight in the dressing room?"

"Luren was gay bashing and took the first swing," he assured him.  "He's sorry now.  He's also suspended for a week since he started it and Stan's got a day too."

"That's fine.  Could we have a report?  The mayor's worried that the gay thing is going to get out of hand again."

"Why?  Is he being bashed?" Hodges asked.

"Well, no, he's still insisting he's straight," he admitted dryly, smirking at them.  "The same sort of thing that happened at the twenty-third two days ago."  Xander nodded, he'd heard.  "Very well then.  I'd just like a report.  I know I make you all nervous so I'm not going to wait around for it.  Email or mail it."  He headed out, closing the door behind him.

Xander looked down at his former coworkers.  "He's kinda new.  He's not learned how to growl at us yet."

Greg grinned.  "Had me worried there for a second, Xander."

"Nah, they joke about those things like the salsa club incident.  Oh, Welsh, I did get my weapons, they were delivered today with the proper federal paperwork.  Do I have to file that with them?"

"Probably should," he agreed.

"Sure.  I already told SWAT and told them it was off limits."

"Is that what those cases were?" Hodges asked.  Xander nodded.  "Fine, just make sure I don't trip over them and no one can steal them."

"Fully spelled," he promised.

"Good."  He nudged the second detective out of his confusion.  "Those things happen around Xander.  He's stalked all the time.  Bad women like him."

"I wondered what turned him gay," he admitted dryly. "I'd probably turn too if half of what I heard was true."  He looked at Ray, who shuddered but nodded.  "Poor boy."

"Usually," Hodges agreed dryly.

"Back to business," Welsh decided.  "Before another one comes up here."  They heard screaming and someone yelling for Hodges and Xander got up to look, then snorted and slammed the door.  "What's going on?"

"His stalker bitch, Happiness.  Oh, she's wearing my old glasses, Welsh."

"I'll tell them that."  He wrote that down on his notepad too.  Meetings with Xander were often surreal, but never boring.  He heard the continued screaming then it suddenly stopped and someone went running so he got up to check, finding her with her gun drawn. "Put it down or I'm letting Xander come out," he ordered firmly.  She whimpered and put it down, giving up right then and there.  She knew she couldn't beat Xander.

***

Xander smiled as the two CSI's came out of the guest bedroom the next afternoon, handing them cups of coffee.  "Here ya go.  I didn't figure you two would be doing days.  David?"

"Coming.  I was ordering breakfast," he complained as he came out of the bedroom.  "You sent cards to all the places we routinely order from?"

"Easier than reminding them each time," he defended.  "Just little notes to say we've moved and giving the new address."  He sipped his coffee.  "I put up the security camera you wanted too.  The monitor's next to the fridge for the moment."

"Thanks."  He went to turn it on and check the placement.  "Little high, Xan."

"It'll catch the road.  Turn to channel five.  That's over the door."  David did so and he smirked.  "Just in case."

"It works for us," Greg admitted.  "So, how many stalkers since I left?"

"Only four," Xander said proudly.  "And one for David."

"Stan just pulled up," David announced. "He's got breakfast."

"I'll pay him back," Xander promised, going to let him in.  "Come on."

"I should swat you for making Rennie more dangerous," he complained as he headed up the stairs.  "Here. I was there when you called."  David paid him and he relaxed.  "Xander, no more taking Turnbull out.  He could get really hurt and I don't wanna have ta shoot ya for it."

"I'd hate that too," he agreed.  "I only take him on minor things, when things get too bad."

"Tough," Stan said firmly, running a hand through his blond hair.  "No more hunting vampires with my Mounties.  It's way too dangerous and I'd like to keep them.  Even if he begs and pleads, no more."

"Yes, dear.  I'll start going alone again," he sighed.

"Fat.  Chance."  David looked at him.  "No more hunting unless it's necessary."

"It usually is," Xander pointed out.

"So?  Where's the local slayer?"

"My first case.  She staked her aunt.  Faith's in town but she's not exactly doing the slayer thing at the moment."  He sipped his coffee while staring at his mate.  "I have to."

"Sometimes," David countered.  "Not all the time."

"I only go twice a month."

"Do the gym, it's better for you," Greg offered.

"I can't get some of the anger and aggression out at the gym," Xander pointed out.  "Weight machines make me feel weak and puny, not less tense and angry."

"Then take up a martial art in your spare time," Hodges ordered. "No more hunting.  You promised you retired, Xander.  I don't want to have to identify you and your bite marks."

"Or be turned?" Warrick joked.

"Or that if he was turned," he agreed bitterly.  "No more."

"Yes, dear.  I'll try," he promised, kissing him gently.  "Feed me?"

"Of course," he said, giving his head a shove.  "Bastard."

"Yeah, but a cute one," he said with a small grin.

"That won't keep you out of trouble with me," Stanley said firmly.  "Rennie went hunting by himself last night."  Xander winced.  "He's fine."

"He's not ready for that yet."

"Well, yay," Stan said bitterly.  "No more letting him go."

"He'll just go on his own," David reminded him patiently.  "Again.  If he must go out, I'd rather he took Xander and was honest about it and shared their route."  Stan gave him a hurt look.  "Listen, Turnbull is one of those guys who'll do what's necessary, right?  Him and Xander both.  So if they *must* go out, then I'd rather they tell us, give us their route in case they're too late back, and possibly take one of us to drive them, than I would them sneaking out and going off on their own or even together."

Stanley sighed and nodded. "If it's necessary, I'll let 'em go together, with knowing what's going on and where they're going."

Xander gave him a gentle hug.  "Thank you, Stanley."

"Welcome.  Take him out ice skating instead."  He gave him a little shove away.  "Freak."

Xander grinned. "You say the nicest things."  He answered the ringing phone.  "Yuppers?"  He listened.  Then he nodded.  "Sure, Ray.  Of course.  Laters."  He hung up.  "He's got to go bust the rest of those goth kids tonight, dear.  Can I be scary?"

"Fine, be scary," he sighed, watching as Xander beamed and went to put on clothes.  He looked at Greg.  "He found clothes to be scary in."

"I figured as much."  He finished his coffee and got more.  "When do you two go in?"

"In about an hour and a half.  Xander, don't forget you're going to be eating.  Don't wear the really tight ones," he called.

"They're looser now that they've been worn a few times.  I wore them to a scene last month."

"I'm sure someone was amused," he called back, rolling his eyes and looking up.  "Why me?"

"Because he loves ya for the cranky guy ya are," Stan said dryly.  "Are these real vampires?"

"No, the goth kids I had to scare last night," Xander said as he came out, pulling on a black silk overshirt over his black cotton wifebeater and his black leather pants.  His black hiking boots rounded out the outfit.  "I went for comfortable shoes.  Think they'll notice?"

"They shouldn't," Greg said, staring at him.  Xander looked different now.  He did look dangerous.  "Maybe I should get some leather pants.  They do good things for your body."

Xander gave him his goofy grin and winked.  "It's all an attitude, Greg.  Can you be a bad boy?  Or would your momma be upset?" he cooed, making Greg giggle and Warrick shake his head with a moan of complaint.  "Let's eat.  Dishes?"

"Second cabinet next to the sink," Hodges said patiently, digging out the food to feed them all.  "Stan?"

"Sure. I could nibble," he admitted, taking a few pieces of toast and getting the milk and juice for the table.

***

Ray walked in first, and the heads turned to stare at him, a few of the goth kids hissing.  He snapped his fingers and Turnbull and Xander walked in, Xander staring them down.  The hissing stopped and most of them just stared.  "This whole group is under arrest for multiple charges, including drug peddling and using.  If you don't come along quietly, Xander gets to arrest you.  If you do, I will.  Your choice."

Xander stalked forward, looking at them, picking the biggest and the baddest to pull up and get into the face of.  "Did you want to try something?" he offered sweetly, smirking at him.  "You could try.  I won't let you do more than try, but if you wanted, you could try."

"Leave him alone," one of the women said, kicking at Xander's leg.  He caught her leg and flipped her over, then hauled her up to get into her face.  "He's a pussy cat and my feeder.  My childe. You have no rights here."  She sniffed at him.  "You're not one of us."

Xander smirked. "You're right.  I'm a Knight," he said with a smirk.  She went paler.  "I'm here in case one of you is *really* dangerous.  Or bad.  Which you're not.  Now, get your acid smokin' little lace covered ass over to Vecchio and be thankful I brought him."

"Who...who are you?" one of the girls stuttered from her pillow on the floor.

He looked down at her and smirked.  "I'm Harris."

"You knew Angelus," she said in awe.  "You worked with him."

"I also nearly killed him and helped send him to hell that once," he purred, smirking at her.  "Yes, I'm that Harris.  Now, go quietly or not?"

"I'll go quietly," she offered, standing up and wandering over to Ray and Turnbull, who handcuffed her and put her aside.  A few more followed and what was left was the Masters of the group, all staring at Xander.

Xander smirked at them, crossing his arms over his chest.  "I've withstood four Masters attempting to take me.  You won't."  A few tried to rush him and he got them pinned down with a bit of moving and flipping them.  Then he looked at the rest.  "If Angelus and Spike couldn't, if Darla couldn't, if Dracula couldn't, what makes you think you can?  Or for that matter that you will?"  The rest gave up, going to get cuffed and taken away.  Renfield grabbed the two on the floor and took them off.  Xander went wandering around the place, finding a few more hiding under beds, in closets, and one in the shower.  Then he let everyone else in and went to help them into the wagon coming to take them all away.   Not a gun in sight, it was going to be a pleasant night after all.  He caught a ride back with the wagon, heading back to the office.  He watched as everyone was walked into holding, then headed down the stairs, finding everyone milling around.  "What?  Problems?"

"Mort's out sick," Hodges called from his lab.  He came out and smirked at him.  "We were waiting for you, oh great second in command."

"Wonderful.  Um."  He looked around. "Let's do the weekly meeting then."  He clapped his hands and everyone looked stunned.  "Now!  Crime doesn't stop because our ME and boss is sniffling and coughing."  They got their stuff and came to the main table.  "Okay."  He looked at The List.  It was the list of all active and open cases.  "Shit, it's not that long," he said happily.  "I see I've got four?"  He looked up, catching the nods.  "Anything on my table, David?"

"Yeah, about ten boxes."

"Good deal.  What about yours?"

"I'm a bit backed up doing the Trace from the hospital case.  When you're done, I'll let you do the new stuff."

"Cool beans.  Sheila, DNA?"

"I've got six cases left from day," she offered.  "I've got four of my own and a quick rush-it from the Fed Center.  I'll be caught up by end of shift unless the doo-doo hits the fan tonight."

"We just raided a bunch of goth kids with drugs," he offered.  "You could be really busy.  Want my coffeemaker?"

"Greg's brought in a few good cups," she offered with a grin at Greg.

Xander grinned at Greg.  "Thanks.  Feel free to use my machine.  I'm going to be in Trace most of the night if I'm not upstairs.  Okay, let us see.  Fingerprints?"   He looked up.  "Missing.  Anyone hear from him?"

"Kid's got measles, he's still in the hospital.  Days is covering well," Sheila offered.

"Even better. AV?"

"Not a thing except some footage from an ATM and I'm nearly done," he reported, leaning back.  "Want me to help somewhere?"

"Can you do fingerprints?"  He shook his head.  "What's your other areas?"

"Field."

"Go for it if we've got one," he offered.  He looked around.  Then at the last person.  "Yours?" he asked computers.

"Fubar."

"How bad?"

"Six crashed pedophile drives that suddenly acquired a virus when I tried to run them.  Got my main system."

"Steal one from Region 1."

"I tried.  They got fussy."

Xander looked at him.  "Yay," he said dryly.  "I'll call in a few."  He looked at the others.  "Okay, guys.  We're going to get to the serious stuff."  They all sat up and looked attentive.  "For those of you who don't know, Tyler was in a hit and run last night."  That got some moans.  "Patrol didn't call us."

"They're claiming it was oversight," Hodges offered quietly.

"Yay," Xander repeated, looking at him.  "I'm paranoid, but it's for a good thing."  He looked around.  "There's an open investigation with his car.  Tracy has it."  They all nodded at that.  "So help the poor guy, okay?"  They all nodded.  "Also, there's a crossover case.  That's why we've got the wonderful Warrick and Greg here with us.  It's a multiple homicide with a kid."  They all shivered at that.  "So we're here if you need it.  It's going to be rough, it's probably not going to be that nice.  I'm there when I can be."  They all nodded at that.  "Any other notable cases?"

"The case coming to appeal," Greg offered.

"True.  Personal opinion, the crash was related to that," Xander offered. "Nothing we should all have to worry about, but let's be there because I'm sure his wife's coming in within the next few days.  Help where we can, and honey, stay away from her.  You're not the most comforting.  Please?"  He nodded, accepting that.  He knew he wasn't that comforting to victims.  "Okay.  The list is short.  We're not that backed up.  Let's clear this up for days and our poor overnight people.  Go back to it, guys.  Good luck, yell at me if I'm in the way, hovering, or you need me."  They all nodded, going back to their labs.  "Let me call Region 1.  Be right back."  He grabbed a quick kiss and headed to the office, calling the computer person over there.  "Dave," he said happily.  "Xander.  Did you hear about the pedophile virus?"  He smirked.  "Who said you couldn't help by sending over your third backup?"  He nodded.  "That's fine, hit him upside the pointy head and remind him that if they're not cracked soon, the guys go back to neighborhoods right near where he lives.  Sure.  Anytime.  We're here.  Thanks."  He hung up and stuck his head out of the office.  "His third backup system is coming," he called.  He looked at those two.  "Okay, any new evidence processed?"

"Lots and lots," Warrick offered, smirking at him.  "Nice work."

"They know me here and sometimes try to understand," Xander quipped, coming back to the table.  "Hold on, let me call Welsh."  He called up there.  "Hey, me.  Mort called off.  Not a clue, my man.  Already done, waiting down here.  Of course."  He smirked.  "We're expecting someone from Region 1 with a loaner computer. I went with Turnbull and Vecchio to get the goth kids.  They're in holding.  We're down here going over the new evidence.  Of course I'm fine," he sighed.  "I'm not even hyper."  He snorted and hung up.  "David, you're under orders to keep me from bouncing this precinct apart," he called.  "Welsh said so."  He went back to the table, leaning on it to look at the new sheets of evidence.  "Okay.  What have we got?"

"We have got lots and lots of stuff," Greg said happily.  "Have I mentioned yet that you look really dangerous in those?"

"I'm always happy to hear that," he said sweetly.  "So, dirt?"

"Graveyard and the day guy pinpointed which one by the tree sap in it," Warrick said happily.  "It's the one near Vecchio's church.  According to Sheila, they've been having a few problems over there with teenagers looting the graveyard.  They've installed cameras."

"Which is in AV but he may not realize it yet," Greg offered.  "We pulled for the week before the homicide in the hospital."  They heard a ding and he looked up.  "Desk?"

Xander nodded, heading up there at a trot.  "Yup?"  He looked at the person standing at the desk.  "Him?"  The sergeant nodded and moved away.  Xander turned to look at him.  "You are?"

"Here to talk to a CSI Harris."

"Which would be me."  He shook his hand.  "Sorry, we had to bust some goth kids.  You are?"

"Oh, Agent Miller.  Psychological profiling corps."  He handed over a file.  "That look familiar?"

Xander looked and nodded, walking away with it.  "Come on down, Agent.  The Vegas guys are down here too."  He followed, nodding politely at the people down there waiting on him.  "This is Agent Miller.  Profiler group."  He handed over the folder to Warrick.  "Familiar, but old."

"Old?" he asked as he opened it.  "Huh.  Nearly twenty years old."  He looked at the agent.  "Any other info on this?"

"That was before we started to track, but I'm doubting it's the same guy.  We didn't get too many of those and it's too old to really be the same person unless he was a teenager then and middle aged now."  He pulled over a stool and sat down.  "You guys did really nice on the revamp."

"Thanks," Xander said with a shy grin.  "I helped design some of the changes."  He heard the fax machine start and looked down the hall, smirking as David came out.  "Good?"

"Bad.  Very bad."  He handed it over.  "Death threat to the department."

"Wonderful."  Xander walked over to the phone and hit the speaker, dialing.  "And I read," he said.  "The pigs and the innocents will die because they have violated the trust of the people by hiring those who would bend the law to their wills.  My vengeance will be measured in explosive lights and sirens that are the voices of the unjustly charged and held, those who were raped and beaten by those who were unclean and too unholy to do the job with the faith of the people.  Sounds like an English major to me," he said dryly.

"Where did that come from!" the Mayor demanded.

"Our fax machine, just now.  Come and get it.  Still sounds like a yuppie English major. Need help with the goth kids?"

"Not yet.  Most are whispering your name and asking if you're one of the Heralds of Becoming or something," Welsh offered.

"I've not heard of them but I'll check the books.  Go me.  We've got new evidence.  Laters."  He hung up and came back to the table.  "Okay, dirt from a graveyard in a convenient little pile.  Crystal pyramids."

Agent Miller frowned.  "That's not in the original."

"So it's a copycat or a relative," Warrick suggested, handing the file back to Xander.  "Definitely more New Age than not.  Anything in the strange crap databases?"

"No, not that I could find.  Doesn't seem to fit any known major religion then or now.  Probably more like one he's making up as he goes."  He grimaced and looked at the folder again.  "More oddness.  This one doesn't have the child link.  It was an older child."  He looked at the Agent.  "Any suspects?"

"We got one doing it, he was arrested, put to death.  God Bless the death penalty."  He pulled that file out of his briefcase and handed it over.

"What about kids of his, or any apprentice psychos?" Hodges asked.

"Kids yes," Agent Miller offered.  "Three, all girls."

"That body wasn't that heavy," Xander admitted.  "Fairly light.  Any of these girls big?"

"All three," he admitted.  "Mom used to lift weights for Russia.  Mail order bride back in the day."  He looked at Hodges.  "Any other little things that aren't the same?"

Xander nodded, putting the file onto the table and pointing at something.  "This one," he said, looking at it.  "No semen this time."  He looked at Warrick when he took it.  They both looked at Agent Miller, who squirmed a bit.  "So," Xander said with a happy grin.  "Agent Miller, work with Agent Ford much?"

"No, not ever.  Why?"

Warrick coughed and pointed at him.  "Him, Xander?"

"Yup."  He looked back, then pointed at the mirrored case across from them.  "Come on in, Agent Ford."

"I heard there was a case that crossed state lines.  I came to see if you needed Federal help."

"Not yet," Xander offered. "Do you know Agent Miller?"

"No, I don't," he said, shaking his hand.  "From which department?"

"Psych profiling."

"Ah."  He nodded.  He looked at Xander.  "May I?"  The file was handed over and he grabbed the guy's collar, sitting him there.  "Wonderful.  This isn't on our paper.  We use the cheap stuff. It smears.  Always has."  He looked at Agent Miller.  "Also, the mayor called me.  You got a threat?"

Hodges handed it over.  "Xan said it sounded like a yuppie English major."

"Fine with me," he agreed, dragging the other agent off with the file and the threat.  "I'll be right back with this," he offered smugly.

Xander looked at Warrick.  "Okay, so let's get back to the evidence."  They just stared at him.  "We've had a few of these.  They're big Profiler fans.  We actually had one blonde woman who claimed to have visions at scenes," he offered dryly.

"Xander looked at her and asked her who the dead person following her was, Jack," Hodges admitted with a smirk.  "Why do they like you?"

"I look and act like what they think a tech is," he admitted.  "Either that or they think I'm a Fed in disguise, which is a sickening thought."  He looked at the new evidence, then smirked, passing something over.  "Interesting."

"Very," Greg agreed after looking at it, then at Warrick, then at Hodges and smirking.  "You couldn't brag?"

"Not really.  Xander pinches when I get too smug."  He smiled at his mate, who blew a kiss.  "So, that trace of rag is a good thing?"

"Very," Xander agreed.

"Money grade rag," Warrick said happily.  "In the blood too."  He shook his head and put that sheet down.  "Narrows it down."

"Yes, it does," Xander said dryly.  "And there's a printer in Vegas and a printer here."  They all smiled at each other and Xander hit the button for upstairs again.  "Send Agent Ford back please?  We just found some money paper in the blood."

"Sure," Stan offered.  "Getting chewed a new one.  Wanna come help?"

"Sure.  Who?"

"Guess."

"Wonderful."  Xander went from looking dangerous to looking like a shy puppy in about three seconds, even stopping to take the dogs upstairs with him.  He smiled sweetly at Inspector Thatcher and kissed her on the cheek, letting Stan have the dogs.  "Inspector, what brings you from your noble shores today?  Is there something I can help your boys with?"

"Why was Turnbull limping today?" she demanded.

He shrugged.  "I haven't seen Rennie in a few days, Inspector," he said honestly.  He looked at Stan.  "Why was Rennie limping?"

"That going out alone thing.  He turned his ankle."

"Ah."  He looked at the Inspector again.  "I'm working on his tracking in an urban environment skills and apparently he went out for some practice alone.  If Stan said he turned his ankle, I'm sure he'll be fine.  Did you need me to come baby him for you?"

She frowned at him, staring him in the eyes.  Then she blinked a few times and looked again. "One's glass?"  He nodded.  "I'm sorry."

"So was the person who did it after he died."  He shrugged.  "It happens to the best of us.  That was my worst injury through the bad years."

She looked him over.  "That's an unusual dress for the office," she said dryly.

"Ray needed my help to raid a goth club full of acid popping wannabes."

"So, you went to bust the living vampires?" she asked.  "Like you do the undead?"

Xander nodded.  "Yeah, basically. Why? Got one bothering the consulate?"

"No," she said patiently.  She frowned at him again, lips pursed tightly together.  "Turnbull knows what you do?"

"I'm slowly teaching him," he admitted.  "There's been a recent influx of suspiciously pulse-lacking people.  There's no one in town to really take care of it."

"I see.  What is Detective Kowalski's role in this endeavor?"

"Worried person.  He's seen me hunt before."

"I see."  She frowned harder at him.  "Do not risk my Constable's lives with this, CSI Harris."

He hugged her.  "I'm trying very hard not to, ma'am.  You know I love Rennie like a big brother who can open mayonnaise jars."  He pulled back to grin at her.  "I'm officially retired from that life.  Rennie wanted to know and he had a night when Stan was busy playing with Fraser and Ray so I took him with me.  I taught him the correct way to stake and all that.  I'm slowly teaching him all my skills."  She rolled her eyes. "I take very good care of Rennie."

"I thought you were dating David," she said sarcastically.  "If I had known Turnbull would do it for you, I'd have offered him as incentive to switch countries and come work with us."

"I am.  Rennie's just so cute when he's curled up on the couch in his hockey sweatshirt and flannel pants."

"More than I needed to know," she said patiently.  She looked at Kowalski.  "I thought Turnbull was sleeping in your spare room."

"No, Fraser usually sleeps in there.  He's got a mental issue thing with a threesome unless it's a good night or he needs comforted."

She blinked, then looked at Xander, who nodded.  "You knew about this?"

"From day one when they were fighting in the closet about who got to bring him to a dinner.  Stan butted in and shouted at them that he wasn't some bingo prize and stomped off.  Fraser came out to calm him down, kissing him gently.  He tried to run off and Rennie got him downstairs, kissing him so hard he nearly passed out in the middle of the hallway.  The rest of us just cheered for the Mounties that got their man."

She turned pale, yet a fetching shade of green, stuck her fingers in her ears and stomped off.

"Inspector, do you need a ride back?" Xander called.  "We don't want you to crash."

"No!"  She found Vecchio in the hallway, glaring at him.  "I suppose it's really a foursome?" she demanded.

He slowly shook his head.  "The thing that Kowalski's got with the Mounties?  Not to my knowledge.  Unless David gave them Xander for being too bad for him.  As far as I know it's not."

She let out a whimper and sat down right there, looking at him.

Xander hurried out.  "Inspector, come rest for a few minutes," he said soothingly, picking her up and carrying her in to put her on Welsh's couch.  It was the place where he put everyone he did that to anymore.  Welsh never seemed to mind him coopting his couch for the confused or mentally injured people.  "There," he offered, covering her with his overshirt.  "You rest.  We'll leave you alone so you can rest."  He kissed her on the forehead.  "It's okay.  I promise, he's good to your constables and they're good to him.  He's not playing around with them or anything.  You just rest and process."  He backed out, taking Stan with him.  He even shut the door and looked at him.  "I just had a Disney flashback."  He walked off shaking his head.

"Huh?" Stan asked Ray.

"Ecklie.  Disney music?"

"Oh, that."  He nodded.  "Gotcha.  She's resting."

"Good.  She probably needs it.  Did you have to spring that on her?"

"I didn't!  Turnbull did."  He went to call the consulate, getting Benny.  "Yell at him," he demanded.  "Your boss is napping on Welsh's couch.  She had one of those sit down in the middle of the hall moments."  He smiled.  "He okay?"  He grinned. "Good.  Bring 'im for lunch.  Miss you too.  Later."  He hung up and looked at Ray.  "We're heading for the deli for lunch.  Wanna join?"

"Sure."  He went to do something and check on Thatcher by handing in some paperwork.  He looked at Welsh, who was taking some aspirin.  "I've got some aleeve in my desk."

"No thanks.  This'll do.  Tell Harris to put on another overshirt or his jacket."  He frowned at him.  "You knew about this?"

Ray nodded.  "Kinda hard not to.  Benny was trying to talk around his mental difficulties.  He doesn't think threesomes are natural and it's spooking him a bit.  So he's usually in the guest room but every once in a while Kowalski gets cute and jumps him."

"Fine. More than I wanted to know."

"Me too, but I have ta hear it now and then.  Sorta like David and Xander.  Too cute for words.  What happened?"

"Turnbull turned an ankle going out alone."

"Ah.  I'm sure they've already yelled at him and Xander for that."  He went back to his desk, mentally smirking and shaking his head.  If Xander didn't have David, he and Renfield Turnbull would be perpetually cute together.

***

Xander got the call and groaned, rubbing his forehead.  "You're sure?" he asked the officer.  He listened to the details.  "Yeah, be right there."  He hung up.  "Tracy!"  He came jogging out of their break room. "There's been another. Get your shit and let's go.  It's the hospital next to the consulate."  He looked over as Warrick and Greg joined him.  Then tossed them some keys.  "Here.  Take one of ours.  We keep a full kit in the trunk.  Remind me, we need more film.  I've got to stop and get some."  He headed out, Greg taking the keys to drive since he knew the city.  Tracy met him at their car, getting in to drive.  "Film.  Have to stop for film."

"Sure, Xander.  I thought we had a case of it in storage."

"I can't find it."  He buckled up.  "Cases refilled?"

"I had the rookies do it," he promised, heading out to the nearest drug store on the way in.  "Get some gloves too, just in case."

Xander nodded and got out, going in to get some film and gloves.  He ran into Thatcher, who was getting a prescription filled.  "Hey."  She gave him a pained look and he moved past her to the film, checking boxes and what he knew they used.  He picked out ten boxes and some gloves, then took it up to the register.  The girl gave him an odd look so he pulled his badge.  "Not for kinky sex," he assured her.

"Didn't think it was for that," she agreed.  "Thirty-five mil?"  He nodded, going out to get a box from his case.  When he came back, they compared and she got him what he actually needed, then took his debit card.  "There you go," she said with a smile, handing him the bag and the receipt.  "Have a nice night, detective."

"CSI," he said with a small grin of his own, heading back to the car.  He got in and shook his head.  "She flirted with me," he said proudly.

"Good, then we'll be seeing her as your next stalker," Tracy offered as he started the car.  Xander got his door closed and they were off, heading to the scene.   They found the other two already in there and geared up, including booties.  Not as big of a blood pool this time, but still there.  He ducked under the tape.  "The checkout girl flirted with him."

"Hey, a new stalker," Warrick said dryly, taking pictures.  "Film?"

Xander handed over the bag.  "Here, and some spare gloves."  He ducked in and started to work on the window, checking the body.  "Did we call the fire department?"

"Not yet," everyone agreed.

Tracy headed for the bathroom.  "Not nursery aged," he announced.  "Probably about crawling if size is indicative."

"Tell the nurses," Xander ordered.  "Tell 'em to call the fire department too."  He shook his head and went back to work on the window and fingerprint powdering.  He looked at how the rope was tied around the handle of the window.  "Oh, this is going to slip.  Have them hurry."

"On it," Greg agreed, moving carefully back to the door.  "Hey," he asked a nurse.  "The kid was probably not a newborn if that helps."  She sniffled but nodded.  "And can you get the fire department here pretty quickly to get the body, it's about to fall."

"Yes, sir."  She hurried back to the desk to do that, sniffling into the phone as she called 911 again.  Then she called the Head Nurse and told her that the crime scene guys thought it wasn't a newborn.  She went back to wait.  Surely they'd want to talk to them all.

"Go ahead on rounds," Xander called suddenly.  "We'll come get you.  Just make sure we know your name and address if you have to leave before we're done."

"Yes, sir," a few of them said, going back to their duties for now.  This was horrible.

The backup ME ducked under the tape and looked at the scene.  "Oh, hell.  Another one?"

"Yeah and this one's about to fall," Xander told him, going back to his tape lifting.  "Got a handy cherry picker?"

"No.  The fire department's all out on a call," he admitted. "They said to tell you."

Xander looked at him. "Then do we let the body fall?"

Warrick looked at him. "Is there enough rope to lower him to the ground?"

"Her, and nope.  One more story maybe.  We're four up."

"Crap."  He shrugged. "What do you guys have?"

Xander called Welsh.  "We have a dangling body, the fire department is all busy, and it's about to fall.  Got any ideas?"  He listened.  "If they wouldn't mind.  Sure."  He hung up.  "They're bringing the suicide stuff."

"That's a good idea," Greg admitted.  "How long?"

"Rope's slipping a few millimeters every few minutes.  Probably ten if we're lucky."  He saw a few cop cars pull up and waved, pointing at the body.  They nodded and started inflating the cushion.  It fell about halfway to full inflation but the body bounced.  "Good job," he called.  "Thanks.  Be down soon!"

"I'll send the guys to go pick it up, " the ME said dryly, going to do that.  He came back and looked at the body on the bed.  "Interesting cut pattern."

"Really?" Xander asked, coming over to look at it.  "Huh.  Are those teeth marks?"

"Blade marks, serrated tip," the ME corrected.  "Big steak knife by the looks.  They sawed through the layers."  He looked under the sheets.  "Female."

"Body out the window was female," Xander agreed.  "Tracy, what's the baby?"

"Female."  He came to the door.  "Switch with me."

Xander nodded, switching off with him to do the hard one.  He knew Tracy had a toddler at home.  This had to be eating him up.

***

Xander came back to the lab and flopped down in a chair, looking over at Welsh as he came in.  "Bad."

"I figured as much.  You okay?  We got shrinks here."

"I'm not that bad," he pointed out.  He looked behind him as the bodies were rolled in.  Then he looked at his boss again.  "Where's Mort?"

"Flu.  Probably be a few days."  He patted Xander on the shoulder.  "Good work so far.  That Miller guy was Barney Miller and Profiler together."  He went to check with the ME, then came back out, finding Xander looking at a new file.  "What's that?"

"Officer shooting."  He stood up.  "They didn't take his backup weapon."  He walked up to the desk, grabbing one of the guys by the collar.  "Where's Preston?"

"In the locker room."

Xander nodded, heading that way.  "Hey," he said as he walked in.  The officer stared at him in horror.  "Not here for that."  He sat down next to him.  "It's protocol that we take all weapons when something like this happens," he said gently, staring at him.

"I didn't pull my backup," he said miserably.

Xander sighed then shifted so he was straddling the bench, taking the guy's hand.  "Listen.  I've been where you are right now, only not being an officer.  There's a reason why we take all the weapons.  It's that moment when you realize that you killed someone.  Because the next moment is usually a struggle not to reach for something."  The officer looked horrified.  "It's a natural response.  I've done it when I had to."

"Me too, kid," an older officer offered as he joined them.  "I've had a few of them and each time the thought came to me that I could remove this unclean and unholy guy in the mirror who had just ended a life.  That there was a spare gun in the drawer beside my easy chair."  He patted him on the back.  "It's natural and why they take them all.  Just in case."

Xander nodded.  "So I don't want to, but I need to take it from you.  Then I want someone to drive you home, not stopping at the bar.  That's the other hidey hole that most people fall into."

"How do you know?" the officer asked.

Xander considered telling him.  "Did you hear about my first visit in?  Before I signed on downstairs?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Ray Vecchio was taking me to be vetted by his mother and to be fed.  We were traveling up West Racine after dropping me at the Holiday Inn.  There was a gang fight in the middle of the street and none of you guys yet.  I pulled faster than Vecchio did."  The man looked horrified. "I shot to wound, but that wasn't my first time and there's a reason why I pull faster than Vecchio or Kowalski.  I've also got a history of having to deal with things that make me hurt them to save others.  That wasn't my first shooting.  Ask Hodges, he saw me take out a few people in the middle of Vegas's building that were threatening others."  He patted him on the cheek.  "Now, I *have* to take your backups.  Even though I don't want to.  Then I want you to take your suspension starting tonight and head home, kid.  Don't drink, don't drive yourself, but head home for the night and work through it in your mind however you do that.  With your priest or whoever.  Because you can talk to those of us here who've had one but the shrink's are kinda not up to it most of the time."  That got a nod and a small grin.  "Good enough?"  He nodded and pulled the rest of his weapons, including his pocket knife, handing them over.  "Good boy.  Now you go home and you call us if you need us.  I'll be done with your main weapon by the time you come back and I shouldn't have to do more than note serial numbers on the other's unless it's something to make a ballistics tech like me drool and get hard to fire.  Okay?"  He nodded and Xander left with the weapons, taking them down to personally bag and tag them.

"What happened?" David asked from the doorway.

"Officer involved shooting.  They only took his main weapon."  He looked at him.  "Right after the thought hits you and you realize you *killed* someone, the next thought is usually 'I've got to stop myself before I do it again'.  That's why wise people take all the weapons."

"I get that," he agreed, coming in to hug Xander.  "You okay?"

"Yeah," he agreed, giving him a squeeze.  "I had to do the kid.  Tracy has a toddler."

"I heard.  He broke in the office.  Warrick went to talk to him."  He stroked his face.  "Come sit with me and we'll have lunch when you're done."  He nodded, so he went back to his lab.  Greg was working on the new samples.  "Officer involved shooting."

"Those happen," Greg admitted.  "I had to last week.  Brass took me out for a beer that night and thankfully got me really drunk and calmed down again.  I was a bit hysterical."  Xander walked in and hugged him.  "Thanks. I nearly called but I figured you'd be asleep then."  He looked up at him.  "You're not mad at me?"

"I can't be mad at you, Greg."  He ruffled his hair.  "It's getting long again."  He went back to his lab.  A few minutes later, 'firing one' came across and the sound of a gunshot.

David pulled the door shut before anything could contaminate his lab, then looked at Greg.  "You okay?"

"No," he admitted.  "The review cleared me.  I didn't have a choice.  He had Sarah at gunpoint and started to pull the hammer."  He put down the sample he was working on.  "It was necessary, not of the happy making."

"You sure you want to be in the field after all?" Hodges asked.

Greg looked at him.  "Yeah.  Most of the time.  Every now and then a hurt hits me and I forget. Then I remember I nearly got blown up in the lab so it's not much better.  At least I only had one guy with a baseball bat come at me for trying to help his wife."

"Domestic?" Hodges asked with a wince.  Greg nodded.  "Braver than I am."

"We were removing her and he came after me and the ambulance crew.  He got one of them and tried me but Xander was working on my self-defense there for a bit.  I got him in the jaw and he fell over.  Grissom just gave me a clap on the back and said at least I protected myself."  He shrugged and went back to work.  "It happens."

"Not if you're not in the field."

"Yeah, but I feel satisfaction when I'm there," he admitted quietly.  "I like solving the crimes for real, not just doing the little things."  He went back to preparing the sample.  "How have things been here?"

"Pretty good.  Xander insisted on calling me his boyfriend the other day.  When I protested he threatened me with gaudy valentine's day traps."  Greg smirked at that.  "So I'm leaving that alone for now.  You saw the mock fight last night too.  About that level of stuff really.  It's been okay.  I had to fight to pay some of the rent last night too."

"Why?"

"Because all I was doing was cooking, doing the occasional cleaning thing, and paying for groceries, the electric bill, and dry cleaning."

"Most people wouldn't complain."

"I felt like I was being kept."

"Eh.  Xander's a fussy guy."

"Oh, yeah," he agreed dryly.  "Cuddled me to death when I got drugged and our apartment was broken into by the girl the other night."

"You did?"

"Yeah, she wanted to take Xander's place by becoming Xander.  She knocked me out and left the door open when she left.  Xander was not happy with her, that's why we moved recently and no one will tell him which prison she pled and was sent to."

"That's wise of somebody," Greg agreed.  He shook his head.  "Was she really muscular too?"

"Nope," Hodges said dryly.  "Happiness was not muscular.  She was a bit heavy.  She was a nice enough girl, but fairly giggly and high schoolish still.  She was a patrol officer from Traffic."

"So, too nice to be one of Xander's girls so she went for the next biggest geek in the city?" Greg teased.

"Yup," Hodges agreed with a smirk.  "My first real stalker, one who wanted me not just wanted me dead.  I wasn't really impressed.  Now I know why Xander just snorts, rolls his eyes, and wanders off on them."

"If she ever gets out, I get to show her why she could never be me," Xander called in a sing- song voice from next door.  "Graphically."

"Sure, you can show her the tattoo of the anime character on your butt," Hodges called back.   He rolled his eyes.  "Some days, I still wonder how I took up with him."

"He makes you happy and smiling," Greg reminded him.  "He puts up with your snark and your comments and your ambitious nature and he loves you because of it.  You're his Snape and he's your Weasley."

"No wonder I'm irritated at him some nights," Hodges said dryly.  "Which Weasley do you think he is?"

"I'd say Charlie, just because he's got to love dragons with how he is.  He can't be Percy, he's not quite prankish enough for the twins. So he's either Bill, Charlie, or Ron."

"Bill, please," Xander said as he slid open the door with a smirk.  "Because he's the baddass of the family.  Maybe he's a younger Snape and I'm James Potter."

"You're more Remus Lupin," Greg taunted.  "All puppy eyes and sadness that needs love."

"And new clothes," Hodges said, looking at Xander's outfit.  "Go put on a real shirt."

"I can't. I don't have any more in my locker."

"Xander," Hodges sighed.

"I only put it over Thatcher when she needed a sudden nap.  Turnbull told her about the threesome and hunting and she came to nag.  Stan confirmed the threesome and she about went over."  He grimaced.  "Besides, I'm sure I could find a bigger bad ass.  Maybe I'm Draco."

"You're evil enough when you put your mind to it," Hodges agreed.  He looked at Greg.  "The precinct picnic last week he walked up the stairs carrying bags of food.  Everyone stopped and stared at him until he said he had bought it.  He's now *forbidden* to cook.  Ever. They gave us copies of every menu from everyone in the city who delivers.  Even Ma's given up on him."  Greg looked impressed at that.  "Somehow he managed to make her muffins come out like lead."

"I did it while she was watching and checking my measurements too," Xander reminded him.  "They weren't even overcooked."

"True, but they were still like lead," Hodges reminded him with an evil smirk.  "I think one of the kids painted a face on his and is using it as a pet rock."

"That's entirely possible," Xander agreed dryly, going back to his lab.  "Tell him about the cocoa incident.  He could use a giggle."

Hodges moaned and held his head.  "He made me cocoa.  An 'open packet-add water' cocoa."  Greg snickered.  "Added cinnamon on top.  I don't know how he messed it up, but it was soooooo bad."  He groaned and shook his head.  "I sat there and watched him do it too.  I had stomach pains for *weeks* after that."

Greg giggled, holding onto the table so he wouldn't fall off his stool.

"What happened?" Sheila asked as she joined them.

"Xan said to tell him about the cocoa incident," Hodges said dryly.

She burst out in giggles and hugged Greg.  "It was so bad Mort sent him to the ER to be checked for food poisoning or other poisoning."  She let him go with a grin for him.  "I've got to test about nine hundred samples for drugs.  So if you need that machine, I'll hold off for about an hour."

"Sure," he agreed happily.  "What did he do?"

"We're not sure.  He used bottled water.  He used actual cinnamon.  He used packet cocoa."  She shrugged.  "He's Xander and no one's quite sure why food hates him."  She went back to work.  "Ooh, a Happiness sample, Hodges."

"Burn it," he called.

"Can't do that," she called back sweetly. "They're checking tox."

"She wasn't on drugs, she needed drugs," he called back, walking over to close the door.  "So it's not boring by any stretch of the imagination."

"I can tell.  You guys have trouble with your last landlord?"

"Yeah, he hated the fact that we got broken into.  Xander's got to threaten him for our prepaid rent."  He went back to work checking the samples and helping Greg prepare a bunch of them.

Next door, Xander was looking thoughtful.  "Maybe one of the wannabes is a law student," he said finally, pushing that thought to the back burner for now.  If not, he could probably bribe Ray into going over there for him.  He had that old family charm that usually worked well in these circumstances.

***

Stan came jogging in.  "Xander!" he panted.  Xander came up the hallway, looking at him.  "Bad things," he gasped, grabbing his arm.  "Canada.  Invaders.  Help?"  He nodded, going to get his weapons out of his desk drawer, then followed Stan back out.  His silk shirt was in Stan's car so he put it on, it was dark out, the black silk would help hide him if necessary.  They sped up, lights going and the siren sounding off as they drove.  They pulled up, finding the standoff.

Xander got out, pulling his main weapon, and snuck around to follow an officer inside, nodding at him.  "Go," he whispered.  "If it's clear.  I've got your back."  He got a nod and they walked in together, finding the person screaming at them that she wanted Fraser, that he was hers and she was going to take him or kill them all and then take him.  Xander put his glasses on, noticing they were blurry.  So he took them back off just as she turned around.  She shrieked and pulled her gun up.  He and the cop both fired, and they both got hit.  His was in his outer shoulder and the cop got hit in the vest.  He fired a second round, making sure she was down since she was wobbling.  She fell to her knees, then onto her face, bleeding all over the carpet.  Xander just sat down, holding his arm.  "Any more?" he asked when Turnbull rushed over.

"No, just her, we got the others," he promised, checking him.  "Oh, dear.  Oh, dear.  Oh, bloody hell," he said when he got the shirt peeled away from the injury.  "We need an ambulance!" he shouted outside.  "She's down!"  More cops rushed in and he went back to trying to help Xander, putting pressure on the injury.  "You're all right," he promised gently, staring him down.  "I promise, you're all right, Xander.  It's a minor wound.  The bullet is still inside but it'll be fine.  I promise it'll be fine."  He smoothed Xander's hair back from his sweaty forehead. "Where is the ambulance!" he demanded when someone came over to help the other guy, who was checking his vest and holding his stomach.  "The bullet's still in there," he reported to the paramedic walking through the door.  "He's not bleeding heavily."

"That's fine, Constable.  May I?"  Turnbull shifted, holding Xander's other hand and continuing to baby him.  "He yours?"

"No, David Hodges, fellow CSI," he reported.  "I can call him.  Where are you taking him?"

"Just up the street.  You're right, he'll be fine.  Just stay calm."  They got Xander onto a gurney and out the door with Turnbull with him.  He was too uptight not to bring and he was keeping the other man calm.  In fact, Xander looked like he was meditating.  "Pain control?" the paramedic asked.   Xander nodded.  "You got allergies?"

"Morphine. I'm missing an eye and I've been known to have high blood pressure."

"That's fine, sir."

"CSI Harris."

"Ah.  I've heard good things about you from other scenes, Harris.  Just stay calm like you are.  We'll be there within a few minutes.  There's just a small traffic block ahead."  He ducked and covered Xander's body when he heard the gunshots.  "What the hell?  They don't usually fire on us."

Xander sat up, pulling his gun off his back beltline and handing it to Turnbull.  "Hold that for me."  He laid back down.  "I've got another on my ankle.  There's a dagger on my back as well."

"Of course."

"Don't cut off the pants.  I'll never hear the end of it.  I can take 'em off."

"Why don't we do that while we go around," he suggested, a bit freaked out but Xander was now keeping him calm and the Mountie looked like he knew what he was doing with that pistol.  Fortunately.  They were cops but not all cops were that comfortable with guns.  He helped the boy sit up and strip off, putting all his clothes into a bag for him.  The sheet was enough for the ER. Xander went back to meditating, willing away the pain.  They backed into the ER and he got him out.  "He insisted we not cut his clothes off so we helped him strip," he said as he walked him in.  "This is CSI Harris.  Gunshot to the right outer shoulder.  Constable Turnbull said that the bullet's still in there but I couldn't see it, though there is no exit wound.  Blood pressure's a bit high, he said he's prone to that and is allergic to morphine.  Took us a bit, someone shot at us."

"We heard."  The female doctor leaned over to look at Xander's injury.  "Usually they're screaming."

"I'm used to pain.  Pain is like my ex.  She's a cranky bitch who is obsessed with me.  That's why I'm now gay.  Can we please not freak my man out?" he said bitterly. "He's not really a drama queen but he will start yelling."

"I'll do my best," she promised, taking his vitals again while the paramedic left to get a drink.  "Do you need pain killers?"

"Every day of my life," he said bitterly.  "But I manage. I'd like some soon, but I'm good if you need an x-ray first."

"Sure."  She was glad he was so calm.  They had a few more shooting victims coming and she was basically alone with one nurse to help.  She got the x-ray people to come do him first, then called a surgeon.  Maybe they could take it out down here and free up an operating room.  The surgeon banged in.  "Single wound, right outer shoulder.  Still in there.  He's calm and not in pain.  If you can pull it, I'll close him down here."

The surgeon looked at the x-ray, then nodded.  "Maybe.  It's in the joint.  Let me see.  We've got seven others now."  He probed the wound then grabbed some tweezers and gently eased it out, making Xander's arm go limp.  "He should be fine.  Admit him in case."  She nodded, putting the bullet into the bag from the tray.  "He's not screaming."

"Pain is like my ex, an obsessive bitch," he complained, taking another deep breath.  "But I could use some pain killers, just to blunt the headache when my man hears."

"Sure."  He smirked at him and walked off shaking his head.  "I hate gang kids.  They've done this too many times."  He stopped the nurse.  "Get her a stitching kit, I pulled that gang kid's out for her.  He's being admitted."

"He's a cop, not a gang banger," the nurse said with a scowl.  "He does CSI.  He was here with that homicide.  Very polite."

"Sorry."  He went to see his next one, taking them upstairs.  They had one in their lung, he wasn't going to be pulling that out down here.

***

Turnbull sat down in the waiting area, then hopped up to call Hodges and Welsh.  He got Hodges first, he was growling so you knew it was him if Xander was elsewhere.  "He's fine," he started off.  "The wound was minor.  It's in his shoulder.  The bullet was still in there but not too badly.  I'm sure he'll be fine, David."  He winced as he listened.  "Actually, I have his clothes and his weapons in a bag with me.  Of course I will.  Of course, I'll be here.  Yes, I'll stay until you can get down here.  No, he's lucid and meditating away the pain.  I'm sure.  He wasn't even screaming or crying.  Thank you kindly."  He hung up and limped back to his seat, hugging the bag of clothes while he waited.  A nurse stopped in front of him and he looked up at her, giving her a shy smile.  "News on Harris?"

"No, sir, I saw you were limping.  Did you sign in?"

"I twisted it last night running a bit," he offered.  "I'm fine.  Is there any news on Mr. Harris?  Gunshot wound to the shoulder?"

"I'll find out for you.  Need an ice pack or an ace bandage?"

"I have one on.  I'm fine, really.  Just a bit shaken up.  We had someone holding us hostage and shooting randomly over our heads.  She got my hat."

"I'm sorry."  She went to find out then came back with a small smile.  "He's fine, sir.  We've already removed the bullet and they're stitching him but he'll be kept overnight.  You should probably find him some pajamas or something."

"Oh, I'm not his boyfriend.  I'm standing in for him until he gets here.  Xander's like my little brother.  Who can't open jars of pickles, but still like my little brother."  Stan rushed in.  "He's fine."

"CSI Harris?" he demanded.  "He is all right?"

"Yes, sir.  He's a cop?"

"CSI.  Crime scene guy," he corrected.  "He's really fine?"

"Are you his spouse?"

"No, he's coming.  Vecchio has him.  We're gonna be the ones ta calm him down. He's really fine?"

"He's fine.  He'll be kept for observation but he's just fine."

"Oh, good," he sighed, slumping a bit.  He saw the bag and looked at Turnbull.  "Rennie, what's that?"

"His clothes and weapons. He didn't want them cut off."

"Fine.  Give 'em ta David when he shows up."  He hugged the nurse.  "When can we see him?"

"Soon, gentlemen.  We're in a bit of a rush with the other shooting."

"Yeah, they stopped his ambulance and tried ta shoot it too," Stan admitted.  Hodges rushed in with Ray behind.  "She said he's fine."

"Bet me, he was shot!" he shouted, glaring at the nurse.  "Where is my man?" he demanded.  "Right now, where is he?"

She blinked at him.  "Back in one of the bays being stitched.  We'll keep him overnight, you can stay with him.  He should have some pajamas or something.  He's fairly naked."

"You cut those leather pants off him?  How tough are your scissors?" he asked.

"I have them," Turnbull admitted.  "He didn't want them to cut them off so the paramedic helped him remove them."  David snatched the bag.  "His weapons are also in there, David.  Be careful."

"Sure."  He looked at the nurse.  "Take me to him."

"I can't, sir, not until we move him."

"He's being stalked at the moment.  Do you want to lose more people?"  She raised an eyebrow.

"He is," Ray admitted.  "Let him check on him then bring him back.  We'll be right here to keep him calm."  She nodded, walking David off to see his man.  Ray rubbed the back of his neck.  "That went better than I had expected."  He took the gun from Turnbull's lap and put the safety on, then stuck it in his waistband.  "Don't pet it.  You're not Xander."

"It's his," he protested. "He asked me to hold it for him."

"Yay," Vecchio said dryly.   "You okay?  Benny said your stetson was holed."

Turnbull went pale and ran to find a bathroom or a trash can.

"Okay then," Stan said, following him to be a supportive guy.  He was like that.

Ray sat down to wait.  He was the calm one.  He'd calm David down and take the statements from everyone here.  Later, when they were all more calm again.  David came back, clutching the clothes like a kid clutches a teddy bear.  "He okay?"  Hodges nodded, sitting down next to him.  "What's wrong?"

"They've got him a bit stoned," he admitted dryly.  "He wanted his gun to sleep with tonight, just in case the guy picked him."  Ray patted him on the back and he leaned against him.  "He'll be fine.  The x-ray they had up showed it was in the joint.  The surgeon pulled it and he was fine."

"Good.  Then we can get statements from them about what happened."  Hodges gave him a dirty look.  "Has to happen," he reminded him.  "That's police work."

***

Xander woke up as the door opened, grabbing the dagger he had under his hand tightly.  He heard a dragging noise and opened one eye carefully, then lunged up and tried to hit the person.  The man in there screamed, dropping his mop.

The nurses came running, putting Xander back onto his back and taking the dagger from him.  "What are you doing?"

"I'm one of the field techs who had to deal with that homicide," he said bitterly.

"You'd be the guy out the window anyway," the nurse protested.  "Now shut up and lie back!"  She took the dagger, putting it into her pocket.  "We should have let your man stay, he'd make you see you were an idiot."  She checked his wound, then his vitals while the nurses checked their janitor.  He was clutching his chest but appeared fine.  "You're damn lucky you didn't hit him," she said angrily.  "You know better!"

"All I *know* was that he was working in the dark and was dragging something heavy," he shouted back.  "I don't want to be killed today, thank you!  I have plenty of stalkers for that already!"

"What was he dragging?" a young male nurse asked.  "His bucket's got wheels."

"It was something sliding," Xander told him.  "I heard something being *drug*, not rolled. It sounded soft, not like a cranky wheel on a cart at the store."

"Okay," she agreed, going to look around.  She found a large bag under the bed and pointed at it.  "What's that?"

Xander leaned over but the mean nurse pulled him back. "She asked!"  He looked again.  "Not mine.  I don't have any luggage with me."

The head nurse looked and then looked at the janitor, who was pale.  "What is that?"

"My stuff.  I can't leave it in the locker area, it gets stolen," he defended.

"You also can't mop in the dark," Xander countered coldly.  "It's against OSHA regs and impossible to see what you're smearing around."  The man went pale.  "Before anyone else tells you, I'm a scene tech with the PD.  You might as well tell us now."  The man whimpered and pointed at his bucket, so the male nurse went to empty it in the bathroom, gasping.  "Jewelry?" he called.

"Yes.  Rings and bracelets."  He came out with the bucket, showing them to the nurse.  Who then opened the bag and grimaced at the stolen clothes in there.  "We were wondering who was doing that."

The mean nurse hauled the janitor up and took the bag and the bucket with them down to security, but she also took the dagger.  They could give it back to the lunatic upstairs when he left tomorrow.

The male nurse tucked Xander back in and wiped off his forehead. "Do you need anything?" he asked gently, smiling a bit.

"I could use some water.  My mouth's dry."

"That's fine," he promised, going to get him some from the tap.  He came back and helped Xander drink it, then got him settled in again.  "You try to sleep.  It's going to be a long few days with that arm, Mr. Harris."  He walked out, turning off the lights again.

Xander looked at the door, slowly relaxing again.  He didn't want to drift off but he was so tired. He really should stay up in case that guy came for him again, but he just wasn't up to it.

***

Lieutenant Welsh walked into Xander's hospital room, finding him asleep and curled up like the innocent little boy he pretended to be.  He snorted and Xander sat up, reaching for something.  "Looking for your knife?"

"Yeah, sorry," he said quietly, rubbing his eyes.  "What time is it?"

"Early.  I came to see you before I went in."  He walked in and looked at him.  "Can't you behave for just one night?"

"He came in!" he defended.

"Xander," he chastised.  Xander shrunk down some.  "Thank you."  He patted him on the head.  "You're a good boy.  Most of the time.  That's why I won't tell David on you. I'll give your knife to Kowalski later.  Okay?"  Xander nodded, laying back down with a bit of help.  "How are you feeling?"

"I ache."

"I figured as much.  Need help into the john?"  Xander nodded so he helped him that way, then back into bed once he came back out.  "Now, go back to sleep and continue to be good.  The guy won't come for you."  Xander nodded.  "He won't.  I promise he's not like the usual bad guys who are drawn to you.  Just relax, enjoy it while it lasts.  Let David fuss a bit then come back in tomorrow night."

"Have to come in tonight.  There's paperwork due and Mort won't be in."

"I can wait for it or David can do it," he promised, patting him on the head again.  "You rest and behave.  Try to stay out of trouble."  He left him there, going back down to his car so he could head to work.  Once there he tossed the sheathed dagger at Kowalski.  "Xander had a janitor break in on him last night to steal from him."

"Huh?" he asked, looking confused.

"He had that with him and nearly stabbed the guy," he said patiently.  "The nurses took it from him."  He went into his office and slammed the door, calling David.  "I checked on him, he's fine," he greeted.  "He was even resting when I stopped by.  I helped him into the bathroom and then back into bed.  No, he was a good boy all last night."  He raised an eyebrow.  "What paper?"  He groaned and shook his head.  "Well, yeah, but Kowalski has it now.  He'll be fine.  He didn't actually stab him."  He smirked.  "I told him I wouldn't tell."  He hung up with a chuckle.  He was sure David would get Xander for that stunt.

***

Ma was in the kitchen when Xander walked up the stairs, followed by Ray.  "Hi, Ma," he said, giving her a one-armed hug.  His other was in a sling he was about to take off.

"Ooh, you poor bambino," she cooed, sitting him down.  She stopped him from taking off the sling.  "You need that."

"I've only got stitches, Ma.  I'll be fine."  He finished taking it off and laid it aside, letting her see the bandage.  "See, just a small ouchie."

David lowered his paper to look at him, then at the bandage.  "How many stitches?"

"Forty-three inside and out."  Ma gave him another hug and went back to the kitchen.  "I'm really okay."

"So that's why you nearly stabbed the thieving janitor?"  He handed down the newspaper with the article prominently showing.  Xander muttered something and David smirked.  "You okay?"

"I wasn't so sure the guy wasn't going to come for me.  He was dragging something."

"It says that."  He got up to give him a hug.  "You're staying in tonight and I'll fuss over you before I head in to take your place for a few hours.  Then I'll come back and fuss some more."  He kissed him gently, smiling at him.  "You're in so much trouble for the sheet thing."

"I was trying to make you feel better," Xander protested weakly.  David smirked at him and he knew he was going to be begging by that night.  That might not be such a bad thing but David was going to hold this over his head for months. Which he appreciated. It was nice to be the one fussed over for a change.  He looked at the plate that was put in front of him.  "Ma, are we having company?"

She pinched him on the cheek.  "Eat all that, Xander.  You're too skinny."  She gave him another hug and went back into the kitchen to make some more food for poor David.  The poor boy probably needed some too and her Ray was usually hungry.

Ray sat down, looking at Xander's feast.  "Ma, can I have some toast?"

"Of course," she agreed happily, coming out with a plate for him as well, adding some toast to it.  "There you go, Raimundo."  She went to find David and drag him out to the table, feeding him, then the other two poor dears who joined them.  They were all so skinny and frail!  Did no one take care of these men?  Greg had lost all the weight he had put on under her care. She clucked her tongue and fussed some more.

Warrick said it best.  "Man, the last time I saw this much food, I was at a breakfast buffet at one of the casinos."  He dug in though, he was hungry and she was a great cook.  "Ray's Ma, can you come back with us?  Catherine could use some food too."

"Catherine needs a new man, not food," Greg told him.  Warrick frowned at him.  "She does.  She's lonely.  She's working too hard. A boyfriend would cure that.  If she was lucky he'd even feed her romantic dinners."

"See, if Cat can have a boyfriend, so can I," Xander said smugly, smirking at David.

David only looked at him for a moment. "Just for that, I'm going to embarrass the hell out of you at work when you come back."  Then he smiled sweetly.

"Okay," Xander said with a slight shrug and a small wince.  "I'm good, as long as you don't tie me down and spank me.  I'm coming in tonight anyway to do that paperwork."

"Fat chance," Ray told him.  "Welsh said you're not to come in tonight and it's already done.  Mort did it at home."  He pointed at him with his fork.  "You're gonna rest and like it, Xander Harris.  Or else I'll bring the nieces and nephews to fuss too."  He noticed Xander didn't look scared, he was actually looking a bit happy about that.

"As long as they don't destroy the house," Hodges said firmly.  He heard a knock and wiped off his mouth as he walked down the stairs to answer it, smiling at their landlords.  "Hi.  Come on in."  They walked in and looked around. "Xander's just back from the hospital.  He got a bit banged up last night at work.  Is there something wrong?"

"No, dear.  We just saw the extra car and are making sure you're okay," the wife offered.

"We're just fine.  We've got a few friends in from out of town working on a case with us.  They're using our new guest beds."  That got a smile.  "Want me to introduce you?  Ray and his mother are here since Xander just got back."

"No, we won't interrupt," the husband promised.  "Is he all right? I saw something in the paper."

"That was him," he admitted dryly, smirking a bit.  "He's fine.  He got hit in the shoulder at the Canadian Consulate last night.  It was pulled out in the ER and he was just under observation."

"That's fine then," the wife agreed.  "Tell him to have a speedy recovery."  She smiled and they left, heading back to their place.  "They're very nice boys with very nice friends.  Even if one was one of those black people," she told her husband.

Hodges jogged up the stairs.  "Sorry, our landlords.  They're a bit old fashioned," he told Warrick.  "They were checking on us to make sure you weren't one of those evil boys from a gang like they ranted about the other day when Sarah went to help her garden."

"Ah."  He nodded. "I've heard some older people with those views before," he admitted. "It's fine."

Xander nodded. "They're very nice, just a bit old fashioned in a few ways," he offered.  "A silent supporter really."

Warrick shrugged.  "We got those too.  You learn to live with it."  He sipped his juice.  "Ray, are you sure we can't borrow your mother?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "I'd have to come arrest you for kidnaping her and bring her back."

"Fine," Greg sighed. "Make me continue to eat like Xander."

"What?  You don't cook either?" Ray snorted.

"No time to cook," Greg complained.   "We don't really do shifts, we're more a 'you're done when you're done' field.  The day we flew out, I got home at nine and came in to work at two because we were short on Warrick's shift with Nick out for the day."

"They've got to hate us back at home right now," Warrick admitted.  "We should call to update them."

"I did last night and Catherine sighed at me."

"I'll call to check in later," Warrick promised him.  Greg shrugged and nodded, going back to eating.  "Our shifts are more about which scenes you get given.  Night shift in Vegas is a lot more moody and dead bodies than days."

Xander nodded. "Very true.  You rob during the day or the early evening because many people are asleep to escape the heat and to recover from the night before."

Hodges nodded.  "Night shift was always more interesting."

"What do you two boys do out there?" Ma asked as she brought out the milk to refill glasses.  "Eat, boys."  They all dug in.  "Warrick?"

"We're scene techs, Mrs. Vecchio.  We're the ones who go to the scenes and gather things for Hodges and Xander to test.  Greg used to do DNA but he's not doing much of that anymore."  Greg beamed at him. "He's getting better in the field."

Ma looked at Xander.  "Don't you do that too?"

"Now and then.  Mort wanted me to keep up with my training.  That way I can sub in when we need me to," he admitted.  "I kinda do all three with my main two being ballistics and Trace.  Which is what David does.  I only spend the occasional case in the field.  Usually with one of the guys who works with Ray."

"Dewey said you did really good, Xander," Ray praised.  "He said you were very professional and very polite to the guy you were helping him with.  You help me a lot now and then."  Xander grinned at him.  "We abuse and overuse Xander shamelessly, Ma."

"Poor thing."  She gave him kiss on the cheek and some more bacon.  "Eat, bambino.  You need it to heal."  She sat down with a plate of her own, watching as the boys ate like they were starved.  Someone really had to take better care of them. Her Ray would starve when she was gone and so would Xander and David.  The other two just needed someone like her at home to take care of them.  Too many hours wore a boy down and he would never find a good girl to marry.  Or in Xander's case, a good boy.  Then again, Xander would be one of those fathers who ruined a child by spoiling it too much so she was more than happy if he was with David.  Even if her priest hated it.  She smiled at David and got a grin in return.  "Eat."

"I am, Ma."  He ate another bite and grinned down at Xander, making plans on how to get back at the fussy one so he hopefully wouldn't do it again.

Two nights later, Xander came in from the funeral and took off his tie and jacket, hanging them up.  He sat down at the main table, looking at his boss.  "Hey."

"Xander. Are you all right? You can take tonight off."

"I'm fine.  Just a bit depressed."  He looked at the mound in the middle of the table and winced.  "That thing I was tapelifting."

"David finished it two nights ago. We were debating what it was for."

"I'd say a flag since it's got a pole opening," he offered, pointing it out.  Mort looked confused so Xander pulled up that edge to show him.  "See, like a flag."

"Ah.  It's a novel idea, but it's not decorated."

"Some people could hang it with another one in front that was more sheer, or something," he said with a small shrug.  "I never understood that."  He gave David a weak smile.  "It's got a flag pole opening."

"It does?"  He looked at it and nodded.  "So it does.  So it's either a flag or for curtains."

"Curtains, another use I hadn't thought of," Mort admitted.  They both looked at Xander, who had just sighed.  "You should take tonight off too."

"No, I'm good.  There wasn't anything noteworthy at the funeral.  I went to Tyler's viewing too.  His wife excused me from the main funeral."

"Why?" Hodges asked.

"Because I simply stood there and stared.  The last one I went to was for Tara.  The one before that was for Buffy and shortly before her, her mother's."

"I thought she was here."

"Yeah, that's a Willow thing," he said dryly. "I helped, but it was still mostly Willow."  He slumped a bit, leaning his elbows on the table.  "Am I clear or full?"

"Two guns," Hodges admitted.  "They can wait."

"They can't wait.  We'll get a backlog and then people will start to complain about justice being slow again."  He got up.  "I'm heading in to work."   He stopped when the phone rang, turning to look at Mort, who was frowning at whoever was on the other end.  "My other case?"  He nodded.  "Which hospital?"

"Memorial."

"Let me change into a t-shirt," Xander offered. Then he hit himself on the head.  "I'll have to hit the house for a minute."

"I've got one of yours in my gym bag," Hodges said quietly.  Xander nodded and went to find that one.  He came back wearing it and put his shirt with his jacket and tie, grabbing his scene kit and checking it before heading out the door.  Hodges looked at Mort.  "This is wearing him thin emotionally."

"It often does," he agreed. "I'll keep him out of the field for a month or so when this is done.  As far as I'm concerned, this is all we need him for in the field."

Hodges nodded.  "Thanks, Mort."

"You're welcome, David.  Are you clear?"

"And bored until they get back."

"Could you help me with some of my reports?"

"Sure."  He followed him to the office, settling in to take dictation for him.  He was a nice older guy who couldn't type very fast and things got backlogged.  He was a lot like Xander about paperwork and hated that but couldn't really improve his typing any.

***

"Different genders this time," Ray said in greeting.

"Copycat?" Xander asked them all as he put on his booties and gloves.  He slid in and came to come help with the fingerprinting.  Greg was doing that and gave him a sideways look.  "Let me guess, I get the bathroom?"

"If you can," Warrick agreed.

"Sure."  He went to get his camera and case, coming in to do that part.  He sighed when he saw the child, going to check it.  "It's a doll," he announced.  "Just as much blood too."

"The puddle out here's pretty small," Warrick offered.  "Maybe he gathered some to put down."

"So I'll swab and gather," Xander agreed, taking his pictures first then swabbing different spots in the blood pool for samples.  He made a diagram of what was there and marked down each swab on it and marked each swab accordingly, then took a few more and marked them too.  He was very methodical in the field, unlike in his home office, which looked like it had exploded in vampire magazines and Guns'n'Ammo.  Greg had even giggled at it that first night.  He went back to work, shaking off his thoughts.  He looked at the sink once he got done, frowning at the blood on the taps.  "We have a bloody sink," he announced, taking pictures then swabs.  He also swabbed the turning areas for epithealials.  Then he checked the toilet and the shower.  The toilet needed to be flushed and he grimaced, using a disposable sucker to gather some fluid up, then he flushed it and went to the shower.  Nothing there.  He set everything aside and got to work fingerprinting.  That created a mess so he always did it last.  By the time he was done, the others were starting to pack it in.  He came out, adding his samples and diagrams to theirs.  Warrick looked at the fluid sample.  "No one flushed.  Just in case."

"Fine," he agreed, packing that away too.  "How did you gather it?"

"With a sucky bulb and a disposable tip.  I bagged that too.  Separately in case I wanted to toss it later."  They packed everything away and Xander bagged his gloves and booties.

"Why do you do that?" Warrick asked.

"Because I have this nasty depth perception problem still," he said with a small grin and a sarcastic air.  "This way if I come into contact with something, it's on the gloves and they're available.  I've always done this and my teacher decided it was a good idea after I ran my thumb through a fluid sample once."  He shoved that bag into his case.  "I keep them in a box in my filing cabinet and clean it out weekly as cases go to trial and are done.  Unless I used them to test something and then they become evidence."

"Oh.  I guess that doesn't break protocol."

"No, it's an extra check for me," Xander assured him, putting his case away.  He stretched his back, then rolled his shoulders with only a small wince.  "Okay, who's driving?"

"I'm taking you back," Greg ordered, getting in to drive him. "You look tired."

"The last set had their funerals tonight," he admitted. "I went to watch.  Then I went to Tyler's viewing."

"It's been a long, bad night for you then, huh?" he asked, starting the car.  Xander nodded, slumping down some. "Buckle up."  Xander did so and they were off, carefully.  Unlike every other driver that night in the city.  They got back and got down to work, David telling Xander to go finish his reports and to hand them in, that he, Greg, and Warrick had Trace tonight.  Xander nodded and finished everything up, then went to find an aspirin and wait on them, sending out the courier with their photos since their AV guy was out tonight. Xander didn't know how to develop film and he wasn't even going to try.  Fortunately there was a nice place just up the street that did these things for them cheaply.

***

Xander smiled at Hodges as he helped him out of the car, walking him inside one of his favorite restaurants. "Two, Harris?" he said smoothly, smiling at the man behind the small desk.

"I see you're a bit early," he said with a smile.  "Let me check to make sure your table's ready."  He went to check on it, then came back, grabbing menus.  "If you'll follow me?"  They followed him, being seated in a small alcove area, then getting their menus and being left alone.

"Thank you, Xander."  Xander beamed at him.  "This is a very nice Valentine's day present."  Xander nodded, blushing a bit and ducking his head.  "Not even a flower or candy in sight."

"That's with dessert," he said with a grin.  The wine steward came over and they ordered something they liked and it would go well with what they liked for dinner, then relaxed, chatting about various things. Stan's frantic plans for the evening and how Fraser was getting his tomorrow since he was on guard duty tonight. The higher ups from Ottawa were in and only Rennie had gotten tonight off.  So Fraser would get his the next night instead.   Stan had went all out and ordered from a very nice place so that they wouldn't have to do more than smile and kiss that night, his words when he made sure it was romantic enough with Xander.  Ray was babysitting tonight so his sister and her husband could go out to dinner. Xander spotted them and winked at Tony then went back to teasing Hodges until he blushed.  It got him swatted.  "Maria and Tony are up the row."

"Good.  They could use a night off from their hellions too."  They shared a gentle, unhurried kiss, which was interrupted by the waiter coming with their wine and ready to take their orders.  Once he was gone Xander kissed the back of David's hand, making him grin.  "You're in a touchy mood tonight."

"Well, yeah," he agreed with a small smirk.  "It's definitely a night for touching."  Their salads came and Xander moved back some, continuing to hold their unused hands.  He liked being this romantic, flirty guy.  It was a good thing for him to be happy this way and David always made him happy.  "I found a housekeeper.  She'll start next week, coming once a week."

David beamed at that.  "Thank you, Xander."

"You're welcome.  It's not fair that I don't help you clean like I should.  I'm sorry."

"Not a problem.  I'm obsessive over that stuff.  It's part of the training.  I'm surprised we're not all germ phobic like Mia was.  She wouldn't even eat out."

"I don't wanna know why," Xander said quickly.  He grinned at him.  "I found a new place opening and stopped to get their menu.  Japanese."

"I've never really been one for sushi.  I like my fish to be pleasantly prepared and cooked."  Xander snickered at that.  "I do."

"So do I, but I've eaten it before.  Then again, I once spent a whole month eating tacos with Fred."

"Fred?"

"She worked with Angel.  Really smart woman.  Like MENSA smart.   She *loved* her tacos and anytime we had anything to do with dinner, she got 'em.  After a month of unbadness and healing from the last injuries, Wes finally begged her for real food.  She got hurt and pouted but she did make him pot roast that night.  It was a bit dry but he kissed her like there was no tomorrow.  Her boyfriend, Gunn, he didn't do more than look amused that time.  Usually he started a fight."

"I thought I met some odd people at college," David said fondly.  "I'm sure you've got me beat now."

"Well, yeah," he offered with a grin.  "Not much for the college partying thing or living in the dorms.  Wish I had at times, but not really my thing."

"I can't imagine you at frat parties."

"I managed to hit a few of those.  Mostly hunting but I did manage it.  Once I even saved them all from Anya.  Way back when."  He smiled sadly.  "Her conscience got the best of her."

David squeezed his hand.  "I know it's hard, Xander."

"No, it's been a long time since she died," he said firmly.  "Just sometimes it hits me."  He gave him a look.  "Can you make me forget I was ever there tonight?"

"I can," he assured him with a slight grin.  He would do his best to make Xander forget anything before meeting him.  It was such a sweet and innocent request, but he would have liked to have seen a Xander that wasn't this girl-oriented and so tough.  Then again, he'd probably never get along with a Xander like that.  Their meals came and they were eating quietly, still holding hands, and about halfway through when Xander's pager went off.  He groaned and David looked at him.  "You're not on call."

"Unless it's SWAT," he reminded him gently, freeing his hand to look at the display.  "Which it is.  They have very bad timing.  Let me go call."

"No, stay.  I want to hear so I can complain tomorrow."

Xander smiled.  "Sure."  He pulled out his cell and dialed, sneezing as it was answered.  "You paged?"  He listened.  "Is it a bomb?  I'm only on call for bombs."  He grimaced, shaking his head.  "No, dear, I'm a CSI.  I'm only on call for bombs.  Not for field action.  I'm not certified for field action."  He looked up and sighed.  "I'm still not a field certified cop.  Yes, I know that.  I'm a CSI.  I'm a ballistics tech.  I'm not a cop."  He groaned and slumped, looking at David, who shook his head but was smirking.  "Dave?"

"Go," he said quietly.  "Come home safe and sound.  Wear a vest this time."

"Yes, dear."  He kissed him and hung up.  He waived the waiter over, whispering in his ear and handing him money, then started to walk off.  He put his hand in his pocket, then grinned at his boyfriend before pulling out something and handing it over, then leaving.

David looked at the small box, blinking a few times.  He opened it and nearly started to hyperventilate.  "He was going to...." he said quietly, staring outside.  He could see taillights in the parking lot but it was too high to be their car.  He looked at the ring again, shaking his head.  "He couldn't even ask?"

"I'm sure he will tomorrow," Maria said as she came over.  "You can come join us."

He looked up and shook his head.  "It's Valentine's day, I can't do that to you two."  He looked at his meal, then at the waiter.  "I'm heading home to wait for him.  Did he pay?"

"And gave me a very nice tip.  He wanted you to have dessert, should we box some up?"

"Please."  He closed the ring box and put it in his pants pocket, intending to wait until later to think about this.  When Xander could ask properly.  It was only right that he *asked* instead of just handed it over and ran off to save someone.  Xander had apparently given them cab fare for him too because there was a cab waiting by the time he got his dessert and they didn't ask him for a fare.  He wandered into their apartment, looking at the curious Greg waiting in the kitchen.  "SWAT," he said bitterly.

"Hell of a time to plant a bomb," Greg agreed.

"No bomb.  Just SWAT."  Greg gaped.  "He protested but they got insistent.  I'm guessing no one else would answer."  He sat down, looking over as Warrick came out of Xander's office.  "SWAT."

"Hate that for you," he admitted, patting him on the shoulder.  "You okay?"

Hodges shook his head and grabbed a spoon, digging into the sinfully chocolate dish Xander had wanted him to have, then put down the ring box to stare at after the first bite.  "He paused on his way out the door and gave it to me.  Didn't ask, just handed it over."

Greg opened it and gaped.  "Wow.  That's a pretty rock."

"It is," Hodges agreed.  "He still didn't ask."

"I'm sure he will when he gets home," Warrick soothed.

"You're lucky he didn't do one of those things like riding up on a horse at work wearing armor," Greg teased.

"He knew I'd turn him down if he had," Hodges said bitterly, eating another bite.  "I think he meant for us to share this.  I can't eat this many sweets."  He covered it and put it in the refrigerator.  Then he looked at them.  "Have you seen the scanner?"

"Yeah, it's in the office," Greg told him, going to get it for him.

***

Xander stomped into SWAT's holding area, glaring at everyone.

"Officer Harris," someone said fondly.

"That's CSI Harris.  I'm not a cop and I'm only on call for bombs.  Is this a bomb?"

"No, but we still need you.  You do have good range scores."

"I've got to requalify and I'm still not a cop."

"Your record said you did some training."

"For *bomb* things, yeah," he said bitterly.  "You guys took me away from my lover and my planned proposal.  I'm not happy.  I'm also not on call for general stuff.  I'm here for *bombs* and only *bombs*."

"We've got to bust a terrorist cell with the Feds," the night shift guy offered.  "I know you're not a cop, we still need you.  I can't find the other on calls.  Can you shoot?"

"I need my glasses and they're on order.  I'm only about eighty percent without them."

"Which is still within qualifying."  He looked him over.  "Go put on a t-shirt. You can't go in those."  Xander growled and the guy looked alarmed, which was good.  It meant he knew he'd be dying soon.  "I'm sorry, CSI Harris.  I wish I could send you back, but I can't.  Chicago needs you.  Otherwise we could need you for something more explosive.  Please.  Just this once."

"You're explaining to David why I had to leave early," he said coldly.

"You're gay?" one of the guys said, looking stunned.

Xander turned and slugged him, knocking him down.  "Yes, I am.  I got sick and tired of the evil bitches who wanted to kidnap my ass.  That's also why I'm nearly a marksman with my glasses.  Which are still on order.  Feel thankful."  He stomped off, heading down to the car.  His gym bag and spare outfit were in there.  He'd gotten hit by some dripping blood at the last hospital scene so he had kept some spares in his trunk.  He came in to change, going to put his suit downstairs and grab his weapons from his desk.  At least Turnbull had put everything back.  He grabbed his vest off the wall and stomped back up there while he slid it on, still glaring at everyone.  "When are we leaving?  I've got more important shit to do tonight."

"I know," the head guy soothed, trying to calm him down.  "I'm sorry I ruined your proposal.  I hear David's a very nice guy to you."  Xander growled again and he backed off.  "Okay, let's move, people.  Van's waiting.  We'll brief in the van on the way there, then have the Feds update us.  Harris, I want you in the rear position.  It's the least vulnerable.  There may still be explosives there anyway."  He followed them out, shaking his head.  He'd make a note in the kid's folder that he was only on call for bombs.  It should have been noted in there, but he did need him tonight.  He heard a drama queen remark and hit the guy across the back of the head.  "Shut up.  He's a damn sight better than most of you."

"Does this count as my range requalification?" Xander asked bitterly.

"Nope, sorry.  When do you have to requalify?"

"I filed for an extension since I hadn't heard.  I have until a week after my new glasses get in."

"Can you work without it?" one of the older men asked.  Xander nodded.  "What are they for?"

"Details.  Fine details."  He looked at his current boss. "I should tell you, I'm missing my right eye."

"Okay," he agreed.  "I'll have someone flank you on that side, just in case."  Better and better.  "You can hit the target without them?"

"Yeah, about eighty percent kill ratio when I don't use 'em."

"Fine.  That's more than good enough for tonight.  Try to leave them living if possible but take whatever shots you can make.  Unfortunately this moved too quickly and the Feds didn't have a team in place."

"Oh, Ford's going to get a foot up his ass if it's him," he promised bitterly, taking the map to look at.  "Who drew this?"

"One of the guys on the back of a napkin.  Why?"

"No measurements.  Rooms look odd and awkward. Can't be to scale."

"You did assault maneuvers?" the boss asked hopefully.

"Construction and yes.  Urban combat."  He handed it on.  He closed his eyes and centered himself, preparing himself for the night to come.  This was not going to be fun and he was going to be bitching out the guy he usually worked with.  Or he could just stand back and let David chew him a new one he supposed.  No, that would take some of his fun.  He checked his vest, then went back to centering himself.  His bullets were in his pants pocket and there were two clips inside his vest if he needed them.  He had three guns that all used the same ammo.   He had his dagger back.  He would be fine.  He was in the rear and unless these guys were that unskilled, he shouldn't even have to fire.  The boss stood up and started his briefing and he listened, staring out the window. He knew where they were going.  It was not a good section of town.  Xander looked at the building then took the map back and stared at it.  "Which floor is this?"

The head guy looked out and groaned.  "Okay, so we're going in blind," he announced.  "Let's fall out silently and head to the staging area."  He followed Harris out, shaking his head.  The guy had common sense and at least some training somehow.  He could handle this.  He wasn't a newbie from what he'd heard around the ranks.  He would be okay if this went sour quickly.

Xander walked into the staging area and looked at Ford, waving the map.  "Who did this?"

"They're on the second floor.  Lab is up on the fifth," Ford replied.  "Why are you here?  There's no bombs."

"I asked that same question," he admitted.  "Which floor is this?"

"Second.  Here, we've got the whole building mapped now."  He led them over to the table, pointing at the level they were needed on.  "They're staying here and working on the fifth floor.  The third and fourth are storage.  The first is set up as a meeting and tea area."  They all nodded at that and Xander was staring hard.  "What?"

Xander pointed at something.  "Hidden stairs?"

"Slide pole actually."

"Wonderful.  We'll have to jam that door somehow."  He looked at him.  "Type of knob?"

"Turn.  Standard."

"Screwdrivers?" he demanded.  Someone handed him one.  "Fine, I'll take off the knob, just in case."  The head guy smiled at him.  "I'm still going to gut you for taking me away from my special dinner and proposal."

"Congratulations," Ford said, meaning it.  The kid calmed down around his man.  He had watched the boy a lot.  "He said yes?"

"I handed it to him and left, I didn't have time to formally ask.  I figure I'll be begging tomorrow," he said bitterly.  He pointed at the stairs.  "Creaky?"

"Hell yes," he said bitterly.  "Intentionally so.  Weakened in the center also."

"So we go up the edges," the head guy noted calmly.  "Harris, please focus."

Xander pulled his gun and shot at his feet, missing him by inches, making him yelp.  "Shut up."  He put it away and looked at the plans again.  "We still have awkward rooms without any reason why," he noted.  "Those walls are too thick.  Escape hatches?"

"We think so, we couldn't find the entrance," Ford admitted.  "We're thinking ladders down to the first floor and coming out somewhere in the back."

Xander looked it over and shook his head.  "Here, this wall," he said calmly.  "Too thick, marked as odd, but no idea why.  I'd say there's a push door there somehow."

"I'll make sure it's jammed or blocked," Ford agreed.  "I'm following you guys in."

"Fine," Xander agreed.  "You take my right side.  I'm blind there."  Ford nodded.

The head guy rubbed the newly opened spot on his boot, looking at the plans.  "Okay, Metz, Jergins, take the back entrance, move forward.  Hyler, Tai, Chen, take the front entrance, clear the front hall once Harris has locked that door for them.  Harris, after that's done, you're jogging behind to catch up to the rest of us going up.  Once there, I want you on the main floor.  If we need you upstairs, I'll call.  Once we've secured the second floor, I'll take some up to the fifth to clear it.  Any questions?"

"How many inside?" Xander asked Ford.

"Fifteen that we've seen and know of.  There's two females, one is part of the group, the other's a hooker.  She's the uglier of the two if in doubt.  Just hold them and we'll do the arrests or arrest and we'll sort it out later if you want," he offered.  The boss agreed.  "There could be more.  I'm sorry."

"Not an issue.  Planning is wonderful but if God wanted man to have predictable lives he wouldn't have put liquor down here," Xander said bitterly. "Gun count?"

"At least one per person," another agent offered.  "They like their guns.  They've fired at the walls a few times.  Rats."

"Better and better," Xander complained.  "What are they making?"

"Drugs."  Xander stared at him.  "There is an explosion risk," he admitted.  He wilted under the glare.  "If we can cut the gas line, it should be fine."

"They'll know," the boss told him.  "Okay.  Any other questions."  He looked at Harris, who was staring again.  "Harris?"

"Yeah, one," he admitted, pointing at the top floor.  "What's that?"

"As far as we know, it's where they take the hooker," Ford offered.  "We're not sure if there's another way down from there.  There could be gun storage."

"So keep 'em off the stairs," Xander agreed.  "Okay."  He looked up.  "Now?"

"Good of time as any," he agreed, leading the way in.  His key guy came and picked the locks and they were inside.  Xander hurried to that one door, getting the knob off within moments, then rejoining them while the team cleared that floor.  They moved up, carefully standing on the outer edges of the stairs.  They still creaked a few times but no one came to check.

Xander didn't like this.  They knew.  They had to know.  They were waiting for them.  He heard another creak and looked back, then lunged and knocked the guy in the suit out, snapping his neck enough to damage but not break it.  He looked at Ford, who looked scared.  He steeled himself for this.  It was not a good thing.  They came up and into gunfire.  This was why he hadn't really done more than dream about SWAT.  He didn't like being shot.  They struggled back and forth, a few guys disappearing.  A few of their guys dropping.  Xander got a few of his own, aiming for upper chests and stomachs.  He did kill a few but that was fine with him.  He heard a woman scream and tensed, but didn't chase.  She screamed again then went suddenly silent and he hissed, doing his best to help clear.  He heard a noise and fired behind them, getting more of the workers.  Fifteen, yeah, right.  More like fifty.  Apparently someone didn't do thermal imaging to count.  He cleared their way down, letting the others rush up to help, getting out of their way.  One of them glared at him and he glared back, but went back to taking out the outer edges, which was his job here.  They finally got everyone down and moved up the stairs, finding the guys up there armed as well.  The few left on the second floor swept the rooms, finding the escape hatch open and the few hidden people.  Xander had to fatally shoot another one and changed his clip again.   He liked this one best.  He'd use it and all his spares, then turn to the others if he had to.  They cleared that floor and gathered everyone, him standing guard with Ford while the rest headed up the stairs.  Xander looked at Ford.  "Thermal imaging," he said slowly and clearly.

"Couldn't find one," he admitted bitterly.  "The local office's is broken and they wouldn't let us borrow from another field office."

"Feel free to kick your supervisors out a window for that."

"Sure.  Wanna come help?"

"David would get mad at me."  One of them groaned and glared at him so Xander kicked him in the back.  "Shut up.  Yes, you were just taken down by the gayest of the gay.  Feel proud.  I am."  The man shut up.   He heard the explosion and ducked.  "Do not shoot at the chemicals!" he shouted, heading for the stairs.  He hoped it was just stupid people.  He could handle stupid people.  Not those with a death wish.  He hurried past the slumped and smoldering bodies, into the lab area.  It was a mess.  He tapped on his communications panel.  "This is Harris, there was an explosion at the SWAT team's coordinates.  Chemical in nature.  Drugs.  Officers down.  Need backup.  Many hostiles still present."  He went to clear this area, hearing others behind him.  He swung to fire at them but it was the team from the first floor.  "Clear them," he shouted.  They nodded and Ford stayed to help him. They found an extinguisher and used it on the chemical table, then went looking for more.  They cleared that floor, heading up.  Xander had a feeling.  Up in that little love nest was a guy with a machine gun and a lot of bullets.  He started to spray at them when they rounded the stairs.  "Fucking hell," he muttered, shooting up the stairs.  He ran out and checked, out of backups.  He holstered that one and grabbed the next one, checking it.  It was fully loaded.  Ford looked at him.  "I'm a redundant backup guy."  He took another shot, making the guy yelp.  "Fucker.  You're taking me away from proposing to my man!  Do not piss me off more!"

"You dirty, gay mother fucker!" the criminal shouted. "How dare you come in here!"  He reloaded and shot some more at them.  "I'm not going to be taken down by you!"

"Yes, you are," Xander shouted back, firing and hitting him on the hand.  The guy switched, it wasn't that hard with it on automatic jammed open.  Xander ducked and saw Ford go down.  Hit to the stomach but no blood so he must have a vest on.  Xander checked then took another shot, hitting him on the side of the neck.  "Man, I can't make that with my glasses.  No fair."  He shot him again while the guy was howling and this time killed him.  He came up to clear the area, then came back down, hoisting Ford over his shoulder to carry him down.  Cops were pouring in.  "One dead one at the top," he offered.  He put Ford down next to the injured, looking at who was left.  "We all alright?"  They grumbled and nodded, going back to work helping.  Xander looked around.  He should be taping things or taking pictures, but the fire department was presently destroying the drug evidence.  "Guys, just the chemicals. The solids aren't a danger."

"Yes, CSI Harris," one said with a smirk.  "How was your night?"

"I was going to propose. Instead I had to toss the ring and walk off."  He went to check the second floor, finding the detectives down there.  "How many injured?"

"Most of you," he said grimly, looking him over.  "You look familiar."

"CSI Harris," he said, shaking his hand.  "Ballistics and bombs."

"Ah."  He nodded and smirked at him.  "Got you out of bed?"

"Nice dinner and a proposal."  He heard a shout and spun, hitting the person running up the stairs with the dagger.  He didn't stop.  "Oh, fuck!"  He was out of bullets and his spare was only loaded with two as he found out when he tried to kill him.  He grabbed the detective's weapon and went for the classic head shot, and he got sprayed with the results.  "Eww."  He handed it back and walked off muttering, going to check in.  The dayshift guy was down there watching as they walked out.  He saw the head Fed chewing one of his guys a new one and stomped over there.  "Why the hell didn't you let them have a thermal imaging camera on loan?" he demanded.  The man looked shocked.  "Yes, me, idiot.  You could have spared a lot of injuries to some good people tonight by simply letting them borrow something for a few hours!  How dare you send us in to be killed, you stupid, pig ignorant, moron magnet sucking, mother fucking bastard!" he screamed.

Ford limped out. "Harris!"

"Oh, fuck off!"  He glared at the head Fed, who was cowering.  "I will be calling a friend in DC about this, mother fucker.  I will tell him exactly why I was told we didn't have an accurate body count.  I will also tell him why there was an explosion since no one told us what was going on in there since they didn't know.  I'd be praying to some God of Mercy now if I were you.  How do you think you'll like Alaska?"

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Who the fuck do I look like, moron?"  He stomped off, going back to the scene to talk to the scene techs coming.  He took off his vest and handed it over, wincing as he rolled his shoulders.  "It's bad.  The fifth floor has solid drugs and chemicals.  There was an explosion.  There are body debris on the stairs.  The drugs are in a solid form and didn't go up.  I had the fire department leave them alone.  We did have someone who must have been dusted, he took three direct hits and kept coming.  There are hidden passages and a slide pole.  I disabled the doorknob on that one," he said, handing over the screwdriver.  "I'm going home now."   They all nodded, just staring at him.  "What?  Something happen to David?"

"You're a scary bitch, Xander," Greg told him as he joined them.  "Come on, I'll drive."

"I need a statement," the head of SWAT yelled, stomping that way.  "You're not released yet."

Xander rounded on him, glaring hard.  "Excuse me?"  The man flinched and backed off.  "First of all, I shouldn't have been in there.  I told him that repeatedly.  I'm going to go home and soak with my laptop.  I'll write out a statement for you and hand it in."

"There's forms," he said more weakly.

"And I can't do them tomorrow?"

"You'll be spending a lot of time with the guns?" he suggested.

"Not since I was here I'm not," he said firmly. "That taints the evidence chain."

"Oh."  He looked at him and swallowed.  "Thank you, Xander.  The guys said you did very well and made sure some of my guys came home."

"I tried," he admitted, calming down some.  "I'm still going home.  I don't care at the moment."  That one nodded. "I'll hand you a statement tomorrow sometime."

"That's fine.  Sure.  We'll send the paperwork down for you tomorrow night."  He looked at him, seeing the few scrapes.  "You all right?  Need medical?"

"I was wearing my vest. I got hit twice in it.  I have two grazes, just basically scratches, and some from the falling debris after the fire.  I'm fine.  Take care of your real guys.  Plus Ford, he got hit in the vest on the stomach while we were taking down the top floor guy."

"Sure.  Thank you."  He watched as Greg led him off, shaking his head.  He'd have to check on him.  The boy's eyes looked dead.  He had that 'seen too much combat already' look to him.  He hoped his boyfriend could soothe him tonight.

***

Greg walked Xander up the stairs, looking at Hodges, who hopped up. "He's fine.  Hit in the vest twice, two grazes, some minor scrapes."  He turned him over.  "They miscounted the bodies.  Half the team was present at the explosion.  He was downstairs."

Hodges looked at the miserable looking man and then licked his lips. "You couldn't pause to ask?"

"I don't need this tonight," Xander responded. He thought he sounded quiet calm, but a bit eerie.  He tried to sound more normal but he saw David's reaction and knew he had failed.  "Please?"

"Sure.  Bath?"  Xander nodded so Hodges went to start one while Greg got Xander sitting and out of his shoes.  While in there he said a silent prayer of thanks for bringing him home.  When the water started to come up, he came out to get Xander, helping him out of his shirt as he walked that way.  He helped him out of his pants and into the water, seeing the bruises coming up.  Both on his chest.  He took a deep breath.  "Want your laptop?"  Xander just looked at him.  "I'll take dictation."

"Sure," he agreed in that same eerie, calm voice.  Still being quiet.  Hodges went to get that.  It was the only way he'd get to know everything probably.  He plugged it in and started it, sitting beside the tub.  Xander had stopped the water and had added some nice smelling bath salts, probably to cover up the stink of gunpowder on him.  He opened the Word program and looked at him.  "Whenever you're ready," he promised quietly.  "Want a soda?"  He shook his head, sinking down some.  "Xander?"

"I...."  He looked at him.  "I should have asked."

"It's okay.  You can ask later this week.  Where are your guns?"

"Um, Greg's car."

"I'll make sure he bagged them when I go to get you a drink.  Now, what happened?  They still made you go?"

"I protested," he promised, sounding like he was vowing it.  "I nearly protested myself into looking like a coward but I did protest.  I also hit one of the guys.  He's living."  He took a deep breath.  "I can type if you get the tub board."  He nodded, handing it and the laptop over, just sitting there with him while he typed it all out.  At least until he heard the sob, then he got up to hug him as best he could and not let the laptop fall into the water.  "Can we take a break after this hospital case?" he asked finally.

"You deserve it," Hodges agreed.  "We'll head back to Vegas for a week or so."  Xander nodded, relaxing into his touch and went back to typing.  He finally finished and handed it off, so David put it aside and grabbed a sponge, removing the board so he could help clean his mate up.  Those bruises looked painful to him.  "You all right?  Need to go get x-rays?"

"Bruised only," he promised, looking at him.  "I'm fine.  I'll probably have nightmares but I'm fine."

"I'm there for nightmares," David promised, working the sponge over Xander's neck and chest.  He was still so tense.  David stood up and undressed, then moved Xander so he could climb in behind him.  Xander relaxed into him and let it go, that's what he needed.  "Shh, I'm here," he soothed, holding him.  "You're all right."  He heard pounding and grimaced. "I'm going to kill Ray."  Xander chuckled at that.  "It's all right."

Stan stuck his head in.  "Hey, are you all right?  We just got the call out to help with the scene."  He came in and gave Xander a hug.  "Xan?"

"I'll be fine.  Can you print that and hand it in for me?" he asked tiredly.

"Sure."  He took the laptop back into the office, hooking it back into the docking station and saving the document before printing it.  He glanced through it then went back to hug Xander again before heading out.  Turnbull was with him and Fraser was coming from the consulate as fast as the cab could get him.  They needed them and they both spoke other languages.  He got out and walked over to the guy in charge.  "Xander said to give this over to you?" he asked plainly.

"Is he all right?"

"Hell no."  He stared him down.  "Who made him come here?"

"Forrest.  He's the other site's team leader.  We were off tonight as a group.  He had some missing so he combed our backups.  By the way, Xander's not in trouble for hitting Pailey.  I'd have socked him too."  He took the report to look over.  Neat and concise, like all of Xander's other reports for them on bombs and firearms.  "Thank you.  Tell me if you need more help, Detective.  Constable."  Turnbull nodded politely and followed inside.  He saw Fraser hurrying and let him in personally.  "They just headed inside.  Harris is fine."

"Why was he here?  Was there a bomb?"

"No, he got pulled in as a backup.  So you have any idea where his weapons are?"

"Call his house.  Gregory and Warrick are there for that crossover case."

"Thanks."  He called Xander's cellphone, getting Greg.  "Where are his weapons?  We'll need to test 'em."  He listened to that short report.  "Thank you."  He hung up and went to tell someone to swing by there and get them from Greg, then went inside with the report tucked into his back pocket.  He'd have to get the boy a card for taking on the local Feeb in charge.  He'd have knocked him down while he yelled, Xander was a nicer version of him tonight.  If that boy would switch teams, he'd take him in a heartbeat but it'd ruin him.

***

Welsh grabbed Xander as he walked in, backing off when Xander flinched.  "Sorry.  Your paperwork is waiting in my office.  You're on suspension."

"It was SWAT," he defended.

"Still."  He stared him down and sighed.  "It's mandatory, Xander."

"Yeah, well, I've got an open case from hell and I'd rather be working.  Tough shit, Lieutenant.  And I mean it."  He went up the stairs to grab the paperwork, then back down to his office, waving off the staring and gaping people.  "Don't.  Just don't."  He headed into his office, seeing the table full of things marked 'SWAT action' and left those alone, going to work on the other things.  He felt arms go around him and glanced back, giving Ray a tired smile.  "I have to work."

"I understand.  I was like that after my last one."  He gave the boy a squeeze, seeing his wince.  "You okay?"

"Hit twice in the vest.  I need a new one.  Mine's three years old."

"I'll talk to supply."  He smoothed back some of the hair.  "You need ta talk?"

"No, I talked to David most of the night," he offered tiredly, turning around to actually hug the man. "I'm fine, Ray."

"I'm sure you think you are, but I'm doubting that.  You look tired."  He looked over as the door opened and Warrick came in.  "Don't tell me there's a scene."

"No, just checking on him."  He looked at Xander.  "Want some help?"

"I'm good.  I need to work so I don't go insane."

"Sure," he agreed. "Nick's the same way.  Brass said to call him if you needed to talk.  Okay?"  Xander nodded, giving him a weak smile.  "Good boy.  Now, let me get to work on the stuff from last night.  You go help Hodges with his stuff.  Then you can have the lab back."

"Sure.  Let me know if we're called out.  My phone's at home broken. I stepped on it."

"Sure."  He watched as Ray walked him next door, then groaned and got to work for him.  That had been a bad scene.  He and Greg had been asked to help this morning and had jumped in to the second shift of evidence gathering.  The first shift had mainly done the drug lab.   He heard Xander come back, smiling as he grabbed the paperwork and went back to fill it out over in Trace.  David could keep him calm.  Those two were good together.  They needed each other.  No matter how much it gave him a headache to think about them together, they suited each other.  He and Greg hadn't even heard the nightmares last night so Hodges must have gotten them as soon as they started.  The desk phone rang and he answered it.  "Ballistics.  Warrick Brown speaking."  He listened, then groaned.  "No, he's in Trace.  Is there a problem?"  He raised an eyebrow.  "Uh-huh.  Xander?  Strange stuff call," he called.

"Not tonight," he whined as he came to take it.  "What?" he growled.  He listened.  "Lye.  Lots and lots of lye.  Not where I can find it.  Thanks."  He hung up.  "Demon body disposal," he said grimly, going back to Trace to complain about 'how else would you get rid of an eighteen foot demon corpse' and other things about paperwork being too long.

***

Welsh looked up as Xander walked in with his paperwork and two files, taking them all to look at.  He looked at one and held it up.  "No signature?"

"I refuse to sign that piece of shit and you can tell someone to stick it," he said grimly.  "Or point me at them and I will."

"They just wanted to know why you hit him," he offered.  "They're not thinking charges from what I've heard."

"Do I care?"  He shrugged and headed off, going to growl at the evidence some more.  David had nudged him earlier but hadn't chastised yet over it.  He was as calm as he was getting.  He ran into the guy in the hall and raised an eyebrow when he got stared at.  "What?" he demanded.

"Nothing, Harris.  Good job."

"Not one I'm proud of," he admitted.  "I don't like killing people. It's not my favorite thing in the world."  He walked around him, heading down the stairs.

The guy nodded, rubbing his bruised chin and fat lip.  "That's why you're not one of us," he agreed quietly, heading up to his turn at the paperwork and statement.  He saluted the Internal Affairs guy.  "Problems?"

"No, just wondering about the altercation before the mission," he said gently.  "Are you all right?"

"It was my fault, sir. I was stupid and prejudice.  Harris was right to hit me.  I just apologized in the halls."

"That's fine.  Do you think this is becoming epidemic around here?  I know he's very open about it and so are some others."

"No, sir.  Just a few stupid and stubborn sorts," he offered.  "I respect that boy now.  He could be one of us but he said he hates it.  I understand fully."

"Thank you.  Did you want to press charges?"

"No, sir.  It was my own stupidity.  He can be as gay as the Mad Hatter but he still saved some of our lives."

"Thank you."  He smiled at him.  "Now, let's get down to business.  Statement first.  Did you do the paperwork already?"

"Yes, sir, and Harris was coming from the squad room so his might be down there."

"I'll check on my way out," he assured him with a nice smile.  "All right.  What's your name for the record please," he asked as he turned on the tape recorder.

***

David put his chin on Xander's shoulder, looking over it.  "Did you want to do the commitment ceremony here or in Vegas?" he asked quietly.  Xander shifted to look at him, looking stunned.  "Just wondering. Unless that was a goodbye?"

"No.  Not it was meant to be a proposal over dessert.  That way the chocolate could calm me down and I wouldn't stutter."

David grinned at that.  "I understand perfectly.  I'd be nervous too."  He gave him a gentle kiss.  "Here or in Vegas?"

"Either's fine.  Up to you.  Both if you want.  Or tape it at one and play it at the other."

"Or pay to fly them all out for a weekend," Hodges said with a smirk.

"Man, we'd get mass migration points for that," Xander joked.  "Ma and all the Vecchio's, including kids.  Stan and his Mounties.  Thatcher and Welsh.  The guys here.  It'd almost be easier to bring the guys out there here."

"It would be," Greg said from the door.  "Besides, we get paid better," he reminded him smugly.  "I so get to be a best man."

"Sure," Xander agreed, nodding.  "Ray can walk me up the aisle, being the dad figure as it were.  You and Stan?" he asked, looking at David, who shrugged.  "You can pick first."

"I'll take Greg," he offered with a grin.  "You get Stan.  You get Ma to tell you where to hold the reception."  He gave him a short kiss and a smile.  "We'll call them out for a weekend.  There should be enough to cover for two days."

"Just the main crew?" Xander suggested. "Nick, these two if they're not here.  Cat, Sarah, Grissom, Brass, Bobby, Archie, and the other techs?"

"Sure," Hodges agreed.  "We'll hold arena seating."  Xander grinned at that.  "Anywhere you want to do it?"

"I don't care.  Wherever you want."

"Xander, I have no idea what to do with weddings."

Xander grimaced.  "I let Anya plan our almost one.  Park?"

"Park's good," Hodges agreed after thinking about it.  "None of us have that big of a yard.  Or holy ground if Ma gets her way.  Say the abbey's walking garden?"

"I like to meditate up there," Xander admitted. "It's peaceful.  They hate me and give me odd looks," he admitted with a shy grin.

"Xander, you're missing two files," Mort called.

"In a minute."

"Xander!" he yelled again.  "The DA needs them now."

"I'm planning my fucking wedding, Mort, it can wait five minutes for me to find them and print them," he yelled back.  He heard the others get quiet and then some mild cheering.  "Apparently they agree."

David smirked. "That's because I keep you from bouncing and annoying them."

Xander beamed.  "I knew there was a reason I loved you."  He stole a deep kiss. "Be right back before he comes in here."  He went to find those reports, he knew which ones they were and they should be on his desk.  He found them both and walked them out, shrugging at the pissed looking Stella.  "You wanted me to take up with Stan and make it a foursome?"

She gaped, then slowly slid down the wall.  "What?" she asked weakly.  She accepted the folders, clutching them to her chest.  "He's doing what?"

"Two big, buff guys in red serge," he said dryly, glaring at his boss.  "Does the abbey you showed me rent out that walking garden?"

"Sometimes," he agreed with a smile.  "It's a wonderful place to hold it, Xander.  I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

"Thanks."  He went back to Trace, he was clear for the moment.  He sat down.  "Mort said they probably would rent us the garden for a few hours."

"Sure.  Flowers?"

"There in the garden.  Unless you want some?"

"Not really.  I'm not a big 'flower' person really."

"Does that mean I should cancel the roses I got you?"

"You got me roses?"

"Yeah, they should be here soon," he said with a small grin.  David beamed at him.  "Just four."

"That's fine, Xander.  Thank you."  He gave him a kiss.  "Any colors you like more than most?"

"Purple and silver?"

"Slytherin and Hufflepuff colors?  I thought you were a Gryffindor," Greg joked.

"Out, Sanders," Hodges said firmly.  Greg just smirked and walked out.  "He still thinks you're a Weasley."

"I could be but I'd have to be the badass one."  He pulled his lover over for a real kiss, making someone squeak from the doorway. "Better be good," he growled, looking back at Stella.  "Needed another file?"

"Stan's gay?" she asked weakly.

"I think he went for someone who would spoil and cuddle him," Hodges told her simply.  She knew what a bitch she had been to Stan.  Let her make the inferences.

"He went for someone who understood and wanted what he wanted, Stella.  He didn't really care about the gender.  I'd say bi actually."

"Oh."  She nodded and wandered off, looking like she was dozing off as she wandered up the stairs.  She walked up to Stan and turned him around, kissing him on the cheek.  "I'm happy for you," she said softly, staring at him and giving him a gentle smile. "I'm sorry if I did this to you, but they're good for you.  They make you happier than I did."

"They make me just as happy as you did when we were still new," he assured her gently.  She smiled and kissed him on the tip of the nose before wandering off.  "Stella?  Do you need a drive back to the office?"

"Please.  I don't think I could."

"I'll do it," Ray offered.  He looked at her.  "You all right?"

"Xander told me after he said something about getting married.  He was kissing that one guy in the office.  I'm hoping it's him.  That's why it's okay if Stan is doing his Mounties.  They're good to him.  They make him laugh and smile.  It's good for him," she assured him.  "I'm not mad."  He nodded, walking her down to his car and taking her back to the office.

Kowalski looked around, then shook his head quickly.  "Either the freak's insane or he's a saint," he said dryly, heading to tell Welsh what he had overheard.  "Xander's getting married."

"When?"

"Not sure yet.  Stella overheard.  She was a bit dazed so Ray took her back to her office.  Apparently she didn't realize why I had two Mounties living with me.  She said she's happy for me though."  He sipped his coffee, lounging in the door.  "What sort of thing would you get David and Xander?  We can't get 'em kitchen stuff.  I know Stell and I got a lot of that."

"Quilts, blankets, things like that," Welsh said with a slight shrug.  "Towels maybe?  I haven't bought a wedding present in years."  His phone rang and he answered it.  "Welsh."  He listened to the babbling voice on the other end, then grimaced.  "And you are?"  He looked at Stan.  "Rosenburg?"

"Willow," he said grimly, coming in to take it.  "What?  No, this is Kowalski, his other buddy.  He's working hard at the moment.  Yeah?"  He stole a notepad and a pencil, taking down information.  "Thanks.  I'll let him know.  How's Dawn and the baby?"  She went silent and he snorted.  "Still avoiding her?  I'll tell him that too.  Thanks again."  He hung up.  "That's the redhead who tainted him against guy things."  He took the note down the stairs, going to hand it to him.  "From the redheaded one."

"Willow?" he asked, looking confused.  "Why?"

"She called Welsh.  Am I doing more than attending?"

"You're my best man.  Greg's doing it for David.  I figure Ray can act fatherly."

"Sure, works for me," Stan agreed.  "Go register somewhere so we know what ta get ya."

"Presents?" Xander asked, looking amazed.  "We get presents?"

"Didn't get any with Anya?"

"Not that I knew of.  She might have."  He shrugged.  "I didn't get near those things."  He grinned at Stan.  "That cool with you?"

"Sure.  I don't mind.  By the way, nice job.  Stella nearly had a nervous breakdown."  He punched him on the arm.  "Let me know if you need Rennie for that."  He walked off, going back to his desk to brood for a bit.  He saw red and looked up, finding Fraser looking at him.  "Xander proposed."

"Wonderful," he agreed happily.  "When is the wedding?"

"Not sure yet.  I'm Xander's best man."  He smiled at him.  "You okay?"

"Just thinking about that scene," he admitted, sitting down next to him.  "Xander did some extraordinary things."

"And hated every minute of it," Stan reminded him.

"Which is good I suppose.  No, I was drawing a link between him and Renfield.  Do you think Renfield has that same sort of push in him?"

"Nah," Stan said, shaking his head.  "Not even.  He's a nice guy.  Remember, Xander's faced worse and won."

"True.  I was hoping never to have to see Renfield after such a situation."

"Me too, Benny. Me too."  He looked over as Ray came back.  "Xan wants you to be the daddy sort at the wedding."

"Wedding?"

"Xan and David's?"

"Oh."  He nodded.  "Sure. I can play father of the groom."  He blinked a few times.  "When?"

"Not sure yet."

"Okay.  I'll ask later."  He went back to work, thinking about it.  Xander was happy and getting married.  He was older than Ray was when he had married his exwife, but they were happier together and there wasn't as much stress between them as he and she had.  Plus no extended family living with them.  They'd do fine.  He'd have to talk to Father Behan to see what one did at a gay wedding as the father of the groom.  He wasn't sure if he was supposed to toast them or walk Xander down the aisle.  He called his family priest.  "Father?  It's Raimundo.  Yeah.  No, quick question.  I got asked to stand in for the father figure at a gay wedding.  Do I toast them and am I expected to walk one of them down the aisle?"  It was silent for a moment, then his priest went off on a tangent about the weather.  "Thanks, father."  He hung up and shook his head.  "Stan, do I have to walk Xander down the aisle?"

"Ask him."

"Sure.  Later."  Hopefully someone would figure this stuff out 'cause he was lost. Besides, if a priest didn't know, he wasn't sure who would.

***

Xander had everything set up and looked at David, who had approved beforehand.  The only thing left was sending out invitations and choosing the ceremony.  He had seventeen printouts in front of him and he passed them over the desk.  David looked at them.  "The various ones others have come up with.  Or we can do our own."

David looked through them, picking out a few.  He pushed those back.  "Those."

Xander looked and narrowed it down to two.  "Romantic or more churchly?" he asked as he handed them back.  "We also need to figure out if Ray's walking someone down the aisle."

David looked at him.  "Doesn't matter to me.  We can each walk down one and then meet and walk together for all I care."  He looked at them and smiled.  Xander's girly streak was coming back.  That romantic one was just that, romantic.  He liked the other one.  "It seems more like a real wedding to me."

"Sure."  Xander beamed at him.  "Now all we have to do is stick stamps and mail."

"Did you buy stamps?"

"Oops."  He got up and went to go buy stamps, the local convenience store sold them.  He walked in and gave the woman behind the counter a sheepish look.  "Stamps?"

"How many, Xander?" she asked kindly.

"Um, fifty?  Or so.  Pretty ones.  It's for wedding invitations."

"Wedding?  Who's getting married?"

He beamed.  "Me and David."

"Oh, congratulations," she said a bit weakly.  She didn't understand gays at all but she liked Xander.  She looked through her stamps.  "Well, I've only got a sheet of thirty-six of the dove ones," she offered, laying them out.  "There's also peace ones."  He looked at what she had, picking out some older ones.  "You sure?"

"I'm sure.  Are they still good?"

"They're just fine, dear."  She smiled at him and let him pay for the stamps, putting them in a nice paper bag for him.  "There you go.  You're such a nice boy."  He blushed and grinned, heading back to work.  "I had no idea he was like that," she said as she tidied up again.  "But he's too nice not to dislike for it."

Xander walked in with the stamps and handed them over.  "I like those," Hodges agreed, pulling over the stack of envelopes they had been carting around for four days.  They got them done in a matter of minutes and then Xander took them up to the desk to be mailed.

The desk sergeant looked at the stack.  "Personal mail?"

"Wedding invitations."

"You know you could have walked Vecchio's and Welsh's and theirs upstairs, right?" he asked, seeing one to Welsh.

"I didn't think that was proper."

"Yeah, it is," he admitted.  "I had to do a bit of hand delivering myself."  He put them into the mail pouch, sorting out the ones to go upstairs.  He noticed Elaine listening and waved her over, handing them to her.  "Go deliver.  You know everyone up there since you used to work up there."  She squealed and headed up the stairs like a young girl.   He shook his head, smirking at the lack of business today.

Elaine burst into the room, beaming madly.  "Hi."  She started to hand them out, handing Ray one for his whole family by the way it was titled.  She saved the last one for Welsh, smiling at him.  "Here you go, Lieutenant.  He was going to mail them but we thought he was being silly."

"Thanks, Elaine.  How are things downstairs?"

"Quiet today, sir.  We're just waiting on a call and playing cards."  He smiled at that.  "Have a nice day."  She skipped back down the stairs.

Ray slit his own, smirking at it.  "They went for the whole family," he told his sister to ease her pout.  "All on one."  He let her see it then made note on his desk calendar.  He also started filling out paperwork to have that day off.  Before anyone else could.

Huey came in with someone and looked at the envelope on his desk, then at Ray.  He sat the suspect down and opened it, smirking at it.  "That's great.  What do you get those two?"

"A new vest for Xander?" Frannie suggested.  "His hasn't come yet from what Turnbull was telling Kowalski."

"That's not a bad idea," Huey admitted.  He started on his paperwork.

Welsh stepped out.  "Before I get flooded with applications for time off, the Mayor has approved it already.  Someone's just got to be on call that day.  Figure out and tell me who."  He went back to his office, calling his wife to see what they should get those two.  What did you get someone like Xander?  For his birthday he'd gotten him gift certificates to some of the place they liked to order from.  He smiled as his wife answered.  "I just got the invitation to Xander and David's wedding.  What are we getting them?"  He listened.  "Gift certificates."  He shook his head.  "Vecchio, where are they registered?"

"Not a clue," he called back.

"Sears," Frannie called.  "The book place Hodges likes so much.  A comic shop."

"Thanks."  He repeated that.  He grinned.  "Sure.  Tonight."  He hung up and leaned back, rereading the invitation.  Him and his family, good thing his kids were out of the house now.  They'd eat those two poor.  He put it against his pictures and got to work signing things.  He found a few reports from Xander and smiled, reading them.  He always used nice, plain english and made his conclusions up front.  These two were 'no match' ones, but that was fine.  He signed off on them and put them into his outbox. He wondered if the mayor got an invitation.  Then he decided Xander wasn't hinting for presents and probably didn't want him there anyway. He'd try to turn it political.

***

Grissom was at the desk when the mailman came, noticing the stack of rubber banded white envelopes.  "For us?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," he said happily.  He handed them over with the other mail, then nodded at the receptionist and left with their outbox.

Grissom looked through the stack and smiled.  "Wedding invitations," he decided, heading back to the meeting area.  Warrick and Greg were back here for a while, but they'd be going back to Chicago in a few weeks to check up on that case.  "Wedding invitations I think," he said, waving the stack.  He took off the rubber bands but Sarah stole them, finding hers and passing the stack on.  "I could have handed them out."

"That's fine," she agreed with a smile.  Greg had said they'd be coming and she had a new outfit to wear to it already.  She even had a present picked out, she just had to buy it.

Nick smiled as he came in and accepted his, taking Warrick's with him back to the labs. "Invitations."

"Really?"  He took his and looked inside, smiling at it.  "About time."  He tucked it into his case.  He'd have to figure out what to get them later.

Grissom took the rest of the stack, going to hand them to the lab techs and Brass personally.   Bobby just grinned at him.  Archie let out a happy sigh at his.  Julie in fingerprints smiled and squealed a bit.  He noticed one for Mia and decided to forward hers to her at home since she no longer worked there due to her injuries.  Sophia's was handed over as she walked in.  Brass was coming up the hall scowling so he smirked and waved the next to last he had.  "From Xander."

"That's a what?" he asked, taking it.  He opened it and smiled, then grinned at Grissom.  "Finally."

"Yeah. He makes Hodges so happy."

"Where are they registered?"

"Not a clue," he admitted.  "You might ask Greg.  I know he's one of the best men."

"Sure."  He went to find him.  "Sanders, where are they registered?"

"Sears, a local bookstore, and a comic shop," he said promptly. He grinned at him.  "I suggested Sears so we wouldn't all have to run up calls to Chicago."

"Thanks."  He went to do an online search to see what they had registered for.  Nothing too outrageous.  A grill for their apartment.  Some dog stuff.  Some new sheets.  A quilt.   He'd figure out what they were getting later.

***

Ma stormed into the CSI lab, looking around.  "Xander!"  He came out of the back, giving her a wary look. "You couldn't tell me in advance?"

"Sorry, Ma."  He kissed her on the cheek.  "I didn't want to make you work during it. I want you to celebrate with us.  Ray's going to be the father-type person, but you're celebrating."  She smiled and pinched his cheek.  "Thanks, Ma."

"You silly boy.  There's all sorts of things that must be planned."  He whipped out his notebook and handed it over, sitting down with her.  "Well, you've done well."

"I bought a magazine with a checklist," he admitted with a small grin.  "Then we crossed off stuff that's not us.  All we have left to do is to find someone to do it for us."

"That could be a bit of a problem," she agreed. "I'll look into that for you."  She pinched his cheek again.  "You are such a sweet child, Xander.  Be a good boy."  She got up and went to find them a priest.  Father Behan was still scared of the boy but surely there must be one good priest in the city who would join those two.  They were so happy together.  She even approved of who they were having cater the event.  Ray must have helped with that.  He was such a thoughtful son.  She ran into Turnbull in the hall and gave him a hug.  "I just got the invitation."

"Inspector Thatcher was surprised and pleased as well," he agreed with a shy smile.  "Do they need anything?"

"No, just an officiant and I'm finding them one," she said firmly, continuing on her quest.  Those two would be married by a proper priest.  Or else she would tear down the local church and rebuild it herself.

Turnbull smiled and walked in with the RSVP envelope, handing it to Xander.  "Inspector Thatcher was most pleased that you invited her and she said she'd be delighted to attend.  She wanted to know if a cocktail dress was appropriate or should she be in uniform?"

"Causal, Rennie.  Casual.  Nice dress or pants suit is fine."  He grinned at him.  "It's nearly here," he squealed, giving him a hug. "I'm so excited!"

"Me as well," he promised, patting him on the back.  He saw David's tolerant head shake and smirk.  "Inspector Thatcher sent me right over to tell you she is coming and wanted to know what to wear."

"Casual.  Nice dress.  It'll be outside under a tent at the abbey Xander likes to meditate at.  In their walking garden."

"That's fine, I'll tell her.  Where are you registered?"

"The comic shop, the bookstore, and Sears," Xander said with a grin.  "But I'll just accept big hugs and you two showing up."  He hugged him again and went to hug Stan since he was coming in with all their replies.  "Hi."

"Hi."  He got free of the happy octopus that was Xander.  "Who's throwing the stag shower?"

"Oh, no," Hodges moaned, holding his head.  "Greg would have to do mine."

"You'd only go clubbing," Xander teased, taking the envelopes to put with the inspector's.  "Casual.  It'll be outside.  Nice pants and a shirt."

"Sure.  Always happy to avoid a tie," he agreed happily. "Did you invite Stella?"

"Yeah but I'm not sure she'll come."

"That's fine."  He patted Renfield on the back.  "Got time for a snack?"

"Of course."  He tipped his hat at them.  "I'll see you both later."  He followed Stan up the stairs, going to get a kiss in the closet and have a short talk with him.  He really wasn't jealous, but it did make him long for one of his own.  Then again he had the same longing for children each time he saw one and puppies.

***

Xander was bouncing around their apartment, smiling at his soon-to-be husband when the doorbell rang.  He jogged down the stairs, smiling at their landlords.  "Hi."

"Xander," the wife said, smiling at him.  "I saw your announcement."

He blushed.  "David did that."

She patted him on the cheek.  "At least you're getting married.  We like that about you."

"I figured we were before, all but at least, but I wanted this final step."  He let them in, watching as his puppy came over to sniff them.  "Behave, Sarah."

"Our daughter's dog was over last night," the husband told him.  "So, married for real?  Even though it's not legal?"

"Married as much as we can be," Xander said firmly.  "Wanna come upstairs?"

"You might not want to.  I accidentally lit that stinky candle," Hodges said as he came down the stairs.  "Sorry.  Supposed to be pine.  Smells very bad."

"I've gotten a few of those," the wife agreed happily.  She handed them an envelope.  "Here you go, boys.  You be happy."  They left together.

Xander looked inside, then at his mate, holding up the eviction notice.  "Fight it?" he asked, closing the door.

Hodges wobbled, then sighed.  "Find a house.  I'm tired of moving."

Xander hugged him and gave him a big, wet, sloppy kiss.  "Sure.  I'll go look online."  He hurried up to the office, their puppy following happily since he's the one who gave the treats and most of the pets.

David shook his head.  "Remember, we both need offices," he called after him, heading up the stairs.  "With good security if possible."

"Gated community?" Xander called back.  "Pricy, but gay, has a pool and a tennis court, plus a community center for recreation."

"No, that's a retirement facility, Xander.  Get somewhere for young guys."

"There's one two blocks from the Roost."

"I'm not that young," he said tolerantly, shaking his head but going to make them a snack.  Xander let out an awesome squeal and he went to look, finding an older house there.  "What is that?"

"Wonderful," he said in awe.  "Expensive, but with a lawn."  He looked over the particulars.  "Not that much, and it's got what I wanted.  I want the tower for my office."

"Sure," Hodges agreed, smirking at him.   He shook his head, letting Xander fantasize.  That was way too big for them.  "How many bedrooms?"

"Six. A living room, a family room, a big kitchen, four bathrooms, the attic, a garage, a basement, and a lawn."

"Did you miss having a lawn?" he teased.

"Yup, and I missed the stink of dying the lawn too," Xander said, beaming at him.  "Can we go look?"

"Sure.  Put it on the look list.  Then find something smaller.  Remember, we're not having kids.  Just the occasional guest."

Xander sighed and nodded, clicking on the 'ones like this' button.  They both smiled at the next one.  It was smaller, but looked almost the same.  It was kinda cute, in an odd way.  A lot like Xander.  "Put it on the look list too," he ordered patiently.  Xander beamed and clicked that icon, then 'back to search' and went back to looking.  "What's that gray and blue one?"  Xander clicked on it and he looked over the particulars.  "Big."

"'Spensive."

"It's in a good neighborhood," Hodges offered.

Xander looked at him then highlighted the price tag, making him wince.  "'Spensive," he repeated, then pulled him down into his lap.  "Let's click on the 'like me' button."  He clicked and they both smiled at the smaller house that was shown.  They put that onto their look list.  "We're going to need to take a week off to go looking."

"Let's file for the loan first, that'll weed down what we can and can't do," Hodges suggested, going to get his laptop and do that.  Their bank had an online page and he did most of it anyway.  He frowned when it came back with the 'we'll let you know in seven to ten days' page.  "Xander, how is your credit?"  A few minutes later Xander came out and he looked at the printout.  "Mine's not bad."  He typed it in the other way, putting Xander's name first, and it still came up with the 'stall' page.

Xander grimaced and held up a finger, going to another page that had been suggested to him long ago by a very flaming coworker.  He typed in their incomes and things, then hit 'find me a house loan', watching as it came up with ten different banks.  "Come pick one."

Hodges came in and looked.  "It's against us because we're together?"

"Apparently."  He let him look at the various loans.  He knew more about this stuff than Xander did.   He was honest about such things.  Fortunately most of his school funding had come from Angel and grants.  He had already paid off his student loans.  "Student loans?" he suggested.

"Paid 'em off," Hodges said with a smile for him.  "You?"  Xander nodded.  "Good.  How?"

"I didn't take out that many and I overpaid for the first year and a half."

"Oh.  Excellent."  He went back to looking and finally decided on one, taking down their number.  He also wrote down the number of three other lenders from that page and a few others from the local banks.  Including his own bank's so he could call them.  "Let me call around.  Tomorrow's Saturday.  We both have Monday off.  We can find a realtor we like and talk to them on Monday."  He nodded, watching as his fiance left.  Xander groaned and went back to looking, printing off their choices so they could reference back to them.  He did sneak in a few more but he knew Hodges would ball up the ones he didn't like for their puppy's amusement.  He spoiled Sarah that way.

***

Xander smiled at the realtor, shaking her hand first.  "Hi, Xander Harris."

"David Hodges," he greeted, shaking her hand as well.  "We're looking for our first home.  We did some online searching and we found these," he offered, handing over the stack of houses they had both liked.  Including the one Xander had pouted him into that looked like a ski chalet to him.  "I've talked to these people about loans," he said, handing over that paperwork.  "They were all fairly high in points and interest.  If you could help us find something better, we'd appreciate it."

"What about through your bank?" she asked, noticing they were all national companies.

"They apparently don't like men together," Xander said bitterly.  "Which is why I'd like to change our bank at the moment."

"I'm still looking for better interest rates," David soothed.  "I'm the more money oriented and he's more the action side.  We will need good security, we're both criminalists for the police department."

"There's a few banks who offer special loans to police officers.  I can check if they offer them to criminalists.  I'm guessing you're lab technicians of some sort?"  They both nodded.  "Just making sure."  She smiled and sent out a few emails, then pulled up her search engine.  "Okay, from the lists you gave me, you like something with a bit of architectural uniqueness?  Nothing that's a giant box.  You want some roaming room, but not too great.  You'll probably want at least two bathrooms?"  David nodded quickly, smiling at her. "Okay.  I noticed a lot of yours have that 'fairy tale castle' tower on them."

"Every now and then Xander swears he's a princess," Hodges said dryly.  "That's why he's allowed to be surly to the normal folk."

"They should expect it.  I was raised with three princesses. You already knew that.  They just warped me that way too."

"I really should go kill your former friends."

"Why?  Them living is torturing them."

"Point," David admitted, looking at her.  "We'll each need a decent sized office for our separate work.  He's a ballistics person so he needs a secure space for his weapons.  We'll need security as well because we've both had a few stalkers."

She added that to the search engine and looked at him.  "Well, four houses came out," she admitted, turning the monitor around for them.  "Three are with us."

Xander leaned forward.  "We live in one of those.  Our landlords are evicting us for getting married.  Claims it's an illegal activity which is forbidden by the lease."

"It is?" Hodges asked, looking over there.  "It is."  He 'huh'ed.  He looked at Xander, who shrugged.  "Up to you.  It's more pricey than the tower house you liked first."

"It is and it's not that great of a neighborhood."

"It's the garage," she told him.  "They're always adding on to the price.  Especially since it's listed as having a security system including cameras?"

"No, the cameras are ours," David assured her. "We installed them."  She nodded and made a note of that in the house's comment's section.  Including that it was presently rental property and being rented.  She turned to look at them again.  "That big gray monstrosity with the tower was the first one we both kinda liked, and the smaller one just like it we both liked but I'm doubting it's big enough for the wandering mutt here," he said, nodding at Xander.  Who just grinned at him.  "We'd prefer not to be next to St. Luke's or St. Mark's.  Some of their priests hate us because we're together."

"I understand."  She looked at the other two houses and smiled.  "Your first instincts were correct.  There is a security system in place at that first house, the other is a more modern affair.  Deco period.  Basically a mirror image house."

Xander grimaced and shook his head.  "I want a family home sorta house, not a showy sorta house.  We don't get many visitors but our friends and family are pretty tight together."

"Sure."  She pulled up the particulars of that first house they had looked at, noticing the email icon.  She pulled that up and read it, then smiled.  She input them into that system and it came back with a 'yes, approved' and how much.  "Well, I can approve you about fifty thousand more than that first house," she said with a smile for them.  "And it's just been reduced due to no one wanting something that unique."

"Can we look?" Xander asked.  She nodded.  He looked at David.  "Please?"

"Sure," he agreed.  "What's the other?  Art deco?"  She nodded.  "Bad?"

"Fairly square and even, like square modern art.  You've seen the new statue by City Hall?"  They both groaned and nodded. "That's Deco."

"No thanks," David said, shuddering a bit.  "I'm sure it's really nice, but not us.  We're both a bit geeky and dorks."

"I used to just be a geek then someone told me I could play with guns all day and get paid really well for it," Xander told her.

She chuckled.  "At least you found a field that makes you happy.  Let me do two things and then we'll go look at the house."  She typed in a fact sheet on them, printing it out to carry with her, and then got the fact sheet for the house, taking them out to her car.  "Do you have any pets?  It's got a wonderful yard."

"We've got one very small dog," Xander admitted.  "She comes to work with us all the time.  We're also friends with Constable Fraser and his wolf."

"I've met him," she admitted.  "I'm sure he'd love this backyard.  It's fairly roomy.  You might feel like you rattle around but you really won't. I will warn you, the heating system is propane, but it's fairly new.  The roof was just replaced about two years ago.  We've already had it looked over and evaluated by the housing inspectors.  It more than meets codes in most areas and meets it in all but one little bathroom out in the garage.  That's got some lead paint in there."

"Easily fixed," Xander offered.  "I worked construction for a few years."

"Wonderful," she agreed happily.  She turned a corner and slowed down, letting them see the house.

"It's huge," David said.

"It's pretty," Xander corrected, grinning at him.  "Please?"

"We'll look but I still say it's too big.  We're not having kids. I couldn't stand kids."

Xander grinned at him.  "Good, 'cause I'd look really sucky as a pregnant man."  He got out once they stopped, wandering around the front yard.  He could see gaps in the security system but they were easily handled with some upgrades.  The realtor walked them onto the porch and inside, letting them look around the older house.  It had wood everywhere!  Floors, walls, staircase railing.  Xander ran up the stairs, heading for his tower room.  It was really tiny but it'd be a nice looking and thinking spot.  He walked out, heading for the master bedroom suite, which was about half of the second floor.  Again, huge.  These people liked their room.  "I feel like I'm a kid in a giant's home."

The realtor joined him.  "Once you put furniture in here, it'll seem a bit more intimate.  Empty houses always seem bigger than they are.  It's one of those things we count on when selling little homes."  He grinned and looked around, checking the bathroom fixtures.

"David, you've got to see this tub!" he shouted.  He came in and looked, blinking a few times.  "She said it'll appear smaller once we have furniture in here."

He looked around the bedroom, whistling softly.  It nearly echoed, but they'd have room for a small loveseat by the bed too.  This room was meant to have a dressing and sitting area.  He led Xander down to the other bedrooms, which were pretty normal sized.  The living room was nicely sized.  The family room, which was the basement, was nicely sized.  There was a dumbwaiter in the wall of the kitchen that led to the basement and the master suite.  The kitchen was nice and new, had all the appliances in it, including a dishwasher.  They checked, it had a wash room for a washer and dryer too.  David looked back at the realtor shadowing them.  "How are heating costs?"

"Not too bad.  All the windows are about ten years old.  They're fairly good at keeping out breezes except in the dining room.  The last owners rarely used that room for more than storage.  They kept boxes in front of those windows if I remember right.  The ducts are floorboard forced air style.  That means that the top floor will be very warm and this floor will be pretty warm, while the basement will be about the same year round.  Everything's fairly recent.  They had upgraded a few years back when their daughter's wedding fell through.  An older Middle Eastern couple used to live here.  They basically died of old age together."  Xander nodded.  "Let's go look out back."  She led them out there and Xander grinned at the yard, taking off to do a cartwheel.  "He's very energetic."

"Which is about the only reason we need something this big," he agreed dryly.

"Once you've got furniture, it'll seem more cozy and warm."  She looked at him.  "With the loan I got you approved for, you'd be paying about six hundred a month, including land taxes.  Plus electric, water, propane for the heating system, and trash/sewer."

"That's about half of what we pay now, but we only have to cover electric at the moment," he admitted quietly.  "That's a really good deal.  What's the interest rate?"

"Five percent, fixed.  Special for people who work with the police department."  He nodded at that.  "No points.  Closing cost is five percent of the house. Or there's a seven percent option with no down payment but it'll come out about a hundred dollars more a month."

"We've got some savings," he admitted.  He looked at Xander as he came out of the small garage. "Is there enough room in there for both of ours?"

"No, but it's easily expanded," he offered, coming back to join them.  "How much?"

"Depends, how much do you have in that CD fund of yours that you won't let me touch?"

"Um, my signing bonus, interest, and about another four grand," he admitted.

"So, about fifteen thousand?" he offered.

"Close to sixteen," he admitted.  "What's the down payment?"

"If we go with the lower loan, five percent," he offered.  Xander winced.  "If we go with the higher loan, none.  But it'll be a hundred more a month. We're still going to be saving about two hundred a month at least on our last rent, even at the higher rate."

"How many years?"

"Ten."

Hodges nodded at that, looking pleased.  He looked at Xander, who shrugged.  "What do you want to do?"

"I want to take you up to the tower room and christen it right now," he admitted with a shy grin.  "But you'd spank me for the thoughts I'm having."

"Probably true," he agreed, shaking his head.  He called their support system.  "Ray, Stan?  Xander's found a house and we're being evicted for getting married.  Sure.  Eleven ten Hillcrest.  Yes, I know that's about six block's from your mother's Ray."  He saw Xander's surprised look.  "Well, I knew, Xander didn't.  Yeah, big gray house with the tower."  He smirked and hung up.  "They'll be right here."

"We can wait," she assured him, taking them back inside to let them take a closer look at the kitchen.  She noticed Xander sat down and watched.  "You don't cook?"

"I'm forbidden to cook by law," he said blandly.  "The last time I tried I gave four cops stomach cramps and two of them explosive diarrhea.  On shift."

"Oooh," she winced. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."  He watched his mate.  "This is more cabinet space than we'll ever need.  We can stock this place as a lab."

Hodges looked at him.  "No.  No labs in the house.  All experiments can be done at work and those herb thingies you use for certain things can have their own cabinet so they're not near the cereal."  He heard a doorbell and went to look, letting the two detectives and Welsh in.  "Hi.  Xander loved it," he offered.

Welsh looked around.  "This place is huge."

"Six bedrooms.  So four after we office up."  He let them look around, finding a grinning Stan looking at the back yard.  "Yes, I know, Xander and Sarah will be playing forever in the snow this year."

Ray came back with Welsh.  "I like it.  It's bigger than Ma's almost.  With some furniture, it'll be more cozy and warm.  What needs fixed?"

"The dining room windows are older and need replaced. The garage needs to be expanded and the bathroom out there redone," Xander told him.  "That's about a weekend of work for me really.  The windows we can do in about a week, or have someone do in about two days."  David nodded at that, he liked Xander sweaty but not that sweaty.  "There's a loose spot on the banister that needs to be tightened, probably a bit of gluing and then shoving it back together.  We need to upgrade the security system and sign on with someone like ADT."

"I like that idea.  They can do the upgrades," David agreed, sitting down to listen to him.  "Anything else?"

"Well, furniture.  We need some, dear."  David smiled at that.  "We'll need some other stuff too, like some runners for the hallway so I don't get splinters and don't yelp first thing after it snows."  David grinned at that.  "We can do that though.  All before the wedding."

David considered it, looking at Stan and Ray, who both nodded.  Welsh shrugged and nodded.  "Are we allowed a few extra thousand on top of the loan for decorating and fixing?" he asked the realtor.

"You are.  The figures I quoted you were at the top level allowed, which was fifty thousand, or actually forty-seven and a half after the cost of the loan, over the price of the house.  That would give you about plenty for those projects plus any other costs."

Hodges considered it.  "It's still about two hundred under what we're paying now," he admitted.  Xander squealed and hugged him, making him choke.  He pried the strong arms off him windpipe and looked at him.  "Honey, I don't play breathing games.  No strangling me or I'm dumping you."

"Yes, dear," he agreed pitifully, kissing him gently.  "I didn't mean to."

"I know, which is why you got a warning instead of the spanking you deserve."  He patted him on the back.  "How much to fix those few things and furnish?"

"Ten would more than do it," he offered.  "And that's a complete refurnish and if the contractors screw up putting in the windows.  That's including expanding the end of the driveway to make it a real two car garage with a small turnaround area."

David looked at her.  "What's your estimate?"

"Probably under that.  I tend to go for older furniture I find at thrift stores and antique malls."

"I like comfy things," Xander said happily.  "Do we need to replace the beds?"

"Nope," David told him.  "We're good on the bed.  We just need one of those pillowtop additions."  He looked at the realtor.  "Let's sign papers and go about twenty over the loan.  That way we'll have some put back in case danger boy there gets hurt again."

"It was only a minor wound," he defended.  "They treated it in the ER."

"I was talking about your eye, Xander."

"Ooh."  He grimaced.  "Good insurance.  I have very good insurance.  I have since I could pick out my own."  David smirked at him and he winked.  "It was necessary."

Welsh chuckled.  "I'm sure it was.  So, David, big screen tv in the entertainment room for the games?"

"That's downstairs," Xander told him.  "But I'm good with that.  As long as I don't have to watch gay sex in teams."

Stan and Ray both moaned.

"Huh?" Welsh asked.

"Football."

"Oh.  No, we're mostly a basketball sort around here."

Hodges put his head down, shaking it.  "Don't get him started, please, Harding."

"Sure, kid.  Sorry, Xander, I forgot you don't do sports."

"Not a problem.  I still say pro ball is like instant replay over and over.  Though street ball is more like rough foreplay with how I've seen it played and the shots you guys take at each other."  Ray blushed at that and walked off shaking his head.  "Sorry, Ray.  Not you."

"I won't make you come with me this Saturday," he promised.  "Come on, Stanley."

"Coming."  He winked at Xander.  "We'll bring the Mounties over and have them help move stuff."

"Movers," Hodges said slowly and clearly, looking at him.  "Otherwise we've got to leave all the furniture and all the heavy books."

"Sure."  He went out to the car, dragging Welsh with him.

David looked at Xander.  "We have some very special friends," he told him.

"Yeah, but I like Stan.  Who else would volunteer to move our bed down those stairs."  He sat down across from the realtor.  "When can we sign and how soon can we move?  We're on a time constraint here."

"I can do the paperwork today, you'll be giving full asking price so that's not a problem.  The children want to sell.  All the titles are ready and already searched.  It should go pretty fast."  She smiled at them.  "Let's go do that. With any luck I can get you keys by the end of the week."  They both smiled and followed her back, letting her lock back up the house.

Xander was looking up at the tower, waving.  "They'll be content it's us," he offered quietly, making his mate stop and stare at him.  "The ghosts. They've agreed to leave us alone.  They think we're cute and happy together.  Happier than their children are."  He got into the back of the car, letting Hodges climb in with him.  The realtor was still smiling, she hadn't overheard them.  David kissed him and Xander grinned.  "Sorry."

"Not a problem.  I'm getting more used to you by the hour."

***

Xander got the page and jogged up the stairs.  He was in charge again tonight since Mort was still sneezing and dizzy.  "Yuppers?" he asked happily, then saw his realtor and beamed.  "Yes?"  She held up the keys and he squealed, hugging her and spinning her around.  "I'm so happy!" he squealed, letting her go.

"Put the nice lady down, Xander," the head of SWAT ordered patiently.  "You're making her dizzy."

"I just got the keys to the house," he said happily.

"Congratulations. I heard you're moving again.  More stalkers?"

"Our last landlord didn't like us marrying."  He beamed at her.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, handing him an envelope.  "Make sure David gets that."

"Yes, ma'am.  We'll invite you over to look around once we're done."  He bounced back down the stairs, earning many comments behind his back of 'Tigger'.  He ran into David and handed him the envelope, then the keys.  "It's all ours."

"Good.  The movers are coming Saturday.  The same guys as before.  That means we've got to do some packing tonight."  Xander beamed and nodded, bouncing back to his lab.  "Shit, he's hyper," he said in awe.  He'd only seen Xander bounce like that once, when he'd come back and decided to stay.  Ray walked in, not looking pleased with the world.  "Xander's bouncing."

"Why?"  David held up the keys.  "Congrats."  He patted him on the back.  "Xander!"  He came jogging out.  "Another one."

"Fuck.  It was such a good day too."

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised," he admitted.  "Been a bit since the last one."  Xander nodded, going to grab everything and his gear case, and then a kiss on the way out the door.  "Let us know when we can drag Ma over to christen the kitchen."

"We're moving Saturday while we're here subbing."

"Sure," Ray agreed, heading out after Xander.  He hated this case and wanted it to end.  He drove them over there, watching as Xander got out, looking like a calm, cool professional person as he headed into the hospital.   Well, in this case hospice center.  He nodded politely at the nurses.  "Have the patrol guys taped off the room?" he asked one nearer to the scene.

"They have, detective.  I'm so worried that this happened here.  It's bad publicity for us."

Ray gave her an understanding look.  "I know, but it's not just you guys.  It's been six other hospitals in the area and one in Las Vegas."

"And one in LA," Xander called before ducking under the tape.  He screamed and a shot rang out, making Ray run to check on him.  "Ow," Xander said, rubbing his thigh.  "Maybe I'll limp down the aisle."  He looked at the body, then back at Ray.  "In the bathroom.  Nurse, there's usually a child in there, come check?"  She nodded, ducking in to check on the infant while Xander waited for Ray to handcuff the bleeding man on the floor.  "Nurse?" he called at the panting sounds.  He walked that way slowly.  She was breathing.  "Still going?"  She nodded and he came in to help, he had bigger lungs and a bit of luck with CPR in the past.  The baby coughed and she gathered it up, holding it tightly.  "Go," he ordered.  "We'll want the baby's things for evidence, but take her to be checked over."  She nodded, taking the baby out into the hall to the others to check over.  She was younger and they had more experience.  Xander smiled at the wailing going on out there.  "Happy baby noises," he said with a smile for Ray.  "The patrol I'm going to smack?"

"Xander."  Ray helped him up, looking at his thigh.  "Hell.  Nurse, could you please call and ambulance for him?  He was shot in the thigh."

"I was stabbed in the thigh," he corrected.  "I wish I had been shot. It'd be cleaner.  I'm not sure if it was a dirty knife or not."  He pointed at it, it was in the puddle of blood.

Ray looked at the nurse in the doorway.  "Was he HIV positive?"

"No, sir.  He had cancer.  Um, I can't officially tell you that," she offered.

Xander nodded.  "Thank you."  She nodded, moving out of the way of the paramedics.  "Guys, he stabbed me," he complained, letting them help him hobble off.  "I'm not sure if the knife was dirty or not."

"That's fine, Mr. Harris.  We'll treat you the same anyway," one of the paramedics assured him.

Ray looked at him, then at Xander, who looked confused.  Ray coughed and pointed at his badge.  "Don't be one of his stalkers.  I'd hate to get mad."

The guy laughed nervously and his partner took over, shoving him out of he way.  "Sorry, Detective."

"Not a problem.  Those things happen to Xander.  There's a baby too."  They nodded and that one went to check on that while the other got Xander loaded and ready to go.  "I'll call Tracy."

"Thanks, Ray.  Tell David I'm fine."

"I will.  Or possibly not tell him and let you tell him."  He waved, waiting until Xander was gone then snarled, "Rookie!" at the patrol officer, who blanched and started to sit down.  "Don't even!" he snapped.  The guy stood up stiffly again.  "Was the knife dirty?"

"No, sir, it looked clean.  I spotted a weapon under the bed."  He pointed at it.  "This one was pulled out of his back pocket and flipped open."

"Thank you.  Go call dispatch and have them route CSI Tracy here now."  He nodded, going to do that.  Ray debated, then called Welsh instead of David.  He could tell him.  "Hey, me.  The rookie didn't check the bathroom.  The guy was still in there with the kid.  Xander got stabbed in the thigh, the perp got shot by Xander.  We're not sure if the knife was the one he used or not.  The rookie patrol said it came out of his back pocket.  No, locking blade pocket knife," he offered, looking at it.  "Yeah, I had him send for Tracy.  Xan's on his way to the ER, again.  He said to tell David he was fine."  He smirked.  "That's why I'm calling you, sir," he said happily.  He hung up and got to work looking over the scene until the other CSI involved got here.  "How's the kid?"

"Banged up, a few cuts," the nurse offered.  "Was it a clean knife?"

"We think so.  We're not sure yet," he admitted.  "I don't know how we'd tell either."  He heard running footsteps and the CSI slid the last few feet before ducking under the tape.  "Easy.  Xan was stabbed by that knife," he said, pointing at it.  "Figure out if it was clean or not, tonight."

"Yes, detective.  Any other weapons?"

"The rookie found one under the bed," he said with a point in the general direction.  "You tell me."

Tracy smirked at him.  "I love it when you snarl at me because I'm not as pretty as Xander."

Ray smirked back.  "You're just as pretty but he's more dangerous.  That's why we like him more.  He shot the guy who stabbed him.  Unfortunately not fatally."  He went to question him.  Another set of paramedics were working on him in the hallway.  He moved one out of the way, then grabbed the guy by the throat to make him look at him.  The eyes were wide open and scared shitless.  "Was that knife clean or will he have to test himself for years on end because you're a psychotic bastard?"

"Cl...clean.  I only used it to stab a chicken that was bothering me," he said in a heavy Texan accent.  "I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, you're gonna be," Ray promised.  "Clean him up, boys.  He's going to prison.  He's our serial guy doing this stuff."

"No," he said, shaking his head.  "I was only the carrier.  Someone else was the one doing the stabbing and stuff.  I hate blood," he said, starting to panic when he saw Ray's hand had blood on it.  "Please? That's unclean and unholy."

Ray leaned down to get into his face.  "Confess and tell me now who your helper was and I'll consider dropping it down to non-lethal injection murder in the first," he growled.  "And I'll consider not dropping you in that big pile of blood in there too."

"Oh, God, oh, Jesus, oh, Merciful God," he cried.  "Crestor."

Ray turned to look at the now pale rookie cop.  "You stay there," he ordered.  The man slowly shook his head. "Move, watch me shoot you.  Tracy, you shoot him in the nuts if he moves.  Got it?"

"Yes, sir, I'll try to dredge up my inner Xander and hurt him badly."

"Xander?" the man whispered hoarsely, licking his lips.  The rookie cop looked stunned.  "That was Harris?"  Ray smirked and nodded.  "Ooh, hell, I'm going to die!" he wailed, falling to his knees sobbing.  "I'll confess!  Please!"

"Damn," Tracy said in awe.  "Detective Vecchio, they never did that to you at your height of scariness."

"Vecchio?" he sniffled, looking up at him.  "I'm sorry.  So very sorry.  Please.  Can I be pounded by the Duck brothers instead?"

"No," he said, hauling him up and out to his car.  The paramedics took the other guy, now handcuffed to the gurney courtesy of Tracy, to the hospital.  Ray used his radio to call it in.  "Yo," he said grimly.  "We got two suspects."

Welsh came on.  "Two?" he asked.  "Why two?"

"The rookie cop who didn't clear the scene was named by the other guy, who Xander shot," he replied, glaring at the rookie, who was still sobbing.  "This one's about to piss himself in fear.  He wants the Duck Brothers to go nice and easy on him instead of me and Kowalski."  The rookie gulped and let out another wail, which Ray let him hear.  "So come get him."  He hung up the radio and waited.  Stan drove up and got out with Fraser, smirking greatly.  "Anyone ever tell David?"

"Nope," he said dryly.  "Welsh tried but his phone was busy and Huey said he's not going down there for anything."  He looked at the sobbing man, then back at Ray. "Does he know that the wedding's in two weeks and that if Xander's limping, Hodges is going to crucify him?"  That got another wail.  "Clean knife?"

"He claims he only stabbed a chicken with it.  He's on his way to the hospital praying for mercy.  This one's scared of us and Xander hurting him.  He thought Huey and Dewey would be more polite and nice."

Kowalski snickered and shook his head.  "Doubt they'll get the chance."  He got the guy out of Ray's car and into his, taking him back to the office.  He got him settled into an interrogation room, sitting backwards in a chair to stare at him with the tape recorder running, when David slammed open the door and stomped in, slamming it closed again.  "David," he warned quietly. "Xander's fine."

"This one won't be," he growled.  The man tried to back away but he was handcuffed to the table.  David go down into his face.  "You do know that since you hurt *my* man, Xander, that you're now on the top of my shit list, right?  That your sick little games have given *my* man nightmares since he had to clean it up," he hissed.  "That your little games and *my* man being injured is going to fall on top of your head," he said coldly.  "Xander isn't the one you have to worry about.  Nor are Ray or Stan.  I'm the one who can calm Xander's rage down and I'll gladly let myself go over.  I don't do it often, but when I do, I tend to get...destructive."  He pulled out one of Xander's guns and put it on the table.  "As in I will make sure that everything you've ever held dear in your life is destroyed while you watch.  I'll do it in front of you so that you see it up close and personal."

"Threatening a witness is wrong," Stanley said patiently.

"And the good thing is, I'm not a cop," Hodges hissed at him.  "I'm a CSI.  What're they gonna do, tell me I can't play with the evidence anymore for threatening you?"  The cop whimpered.  "The *only* way to escape mine and Las Vegas's ire is to confess.  Fully and formally confess.  As in bring in a priest for Last Rights confession.  Anything less than that and I, or *my* man, can get you."

"Hey," Stan complained.  "Only I get to threaten the schmuck."

"Oh, go ta hell," David said hotly.  "He let Xander be stabbed!"  He glared at him.  "You better hope he's well and safe from that knife wound.  If he gets sick because you didn't clean your weapons well enough, I will hunt you down.  If he gets an infection from it I'm going to use your thigh for a skin graft.  Do we understand each other?"  The cop nodded quickly.  "Now then, was the knife clean?"

"Yes," he whispered, staring him in the eyes.  "It was clean.  He had only stabbed an annoying rooster with it last night.  He only stole it two days ago and it was brand new, in the package and still covered in oil."

"Good," Hodges hissed.  "Remember me, kid.  I'm the one who did the evidence to put you away.  Pity about that and how you let my man be stabbed, huh?"

"If I confess, can I be safe?" he whispered.

"That's the only way you'll be safe.  If you're lucky, they won't know you killed kids."  He put down a new tape recorder and turned it on.  "Speak slowly and clearly so we can transcribe it later," he snarled.  "I want whys, wheres, all your kills.  Do you understand?"  He nodded.  "Good, start now."  He backed up and Stan drug him out of the room, letting Welsh take over with Huey.

"Man, you are too dumb," Huey noted.  "First you hurt Xander Harris.  Second, you pissed off Harris, Vecchio, Kowalski, the Mounties, Welsh, and the rest of us, and then you don't immediately offer to spill everything?  His mate, Hodges, who was just in your face, doesn't get mad often.  I've seen it once.  I never want to see it again.  He sent at least ten cops to the shrink after that episode.  And now you've gotten him worse than anyone's ever seen.  You'd better pray that Harris is fine.  You better also confess now."

"I will," he said, starting to cry again.

"Stop that, it won't help," Welsh assured him. "Hodges isn't going to be swayed by tears.  If you're lucky, they're going to make him let it out." He heard a shriek and a slammed door, wincing a bit.  "If you're lucky that was enough to spare you.  Now, I'd give.  The Feds are already on their way. Your choice where you end up."

"I want a deal."

Huey snorted.  "For what?"

"No death penalty.  Solitary.  Please."

"If you don't piss off Kowalski's ex, who happens to like Xander a lot, she might.  If you talk now."  The man picked up the tape recorder with his free hand and started to speak slowly and clearly, as ordered.  Huey and Welsh shared a look.  "We need to tell Xander it was a clean knife."

"I did.  I was watching.  They said they'll give him some antibiotics in case there was salmonella or something on it.  He's being stitched up as we speak and Turnbull's there with Fraser to bring him back."

"Good."  They both glared at the cop, who hiccuped and went back to speaking, just a bit faster this time. "You want a lawyer?"

"No," he promised weakly.  "I don't need one.  I know the law."

"Good."  He went to call Stella.  Even if she was in court she'd want this one.  She came in at a run, looking very concerned.  "Xander's fine.  There's someone here who's confessing to everything.  His partner's at the ER since Xander had to shoot him to defend himself."

"Good," she said with a touch of icy venom in her voice.  "Miranda'd?"

"As far as we know," Welsh assured her from the doorway.  "He wants solitary and no death penalty.  He's confessing to everything he's ever done.  He didn't want to piss off Harris, or Hodges, who lost his temper majorly."

"Smart man."  She came to the doorway.  "He's a cop?"

"We're still trying to figure that out."  He looked at her.  "We did threaten.  We did warn.  Hodges did get into his face.  We offered a lawyer while he was confessing and he said he didn't need one, he knew the law."

"Even better," she said smugly, walking in there.  She put down her briefcase and glared at the slowly speaking cop.  "Hurry up, I've got depositions to run.  You're keeping me from going bitch on some pedophiles."

He started to speak more quickly, and only sped up when the nice guy from Internal Affairs showed up, still smiling gently.  "Madam Kowalski," he said respectfully.  "Who is this man?"

"He's wearing a uniform. You tell me."

"Oh, I have his service jacket here," he offered, handing it over.  "What did he do?"

"You know those triple homicide cases?"  He nodded.  "He's the killer, he had a helper. Xander had to shoot the helper because the idiot stabbed him.  They're both in the ER."  They both glared when the trembling words stopped. "You done?"  He nodded, putting down the tape recorder and turning it off.  "Now tell me."

"I wanted to bring her back," he said quietly.

"Oh, I don't fucking believe this," she said grimly.  "More strange shit."  He flinched and slumped down some, trying to get away.  "Did your mother teach you to sit like that," she snapped.  He sat up straight and tall. "Much better."  She glared at him, making him sweat.  "Well?" she demanded.  "I'm waiting and busy."

He started to repeat the whole thing to her, everything from the beginning when his wife and daughter had died and their first husband had committed suicide.  How this was a re- enactment to bring them back so he could give them new bodies from the dead and dying.  How it hadn't worked yet.

The door slammed open and Xander hopped in on his new crutches.  "Moron, read the book first next time," he said bitterly. "A toddler, one who is innocent and pure, but baptized, will be put in again for another chance.  She's probably already been reborn.  The mother probably went to her well deserved rest.  They're not on this plane.  If they were, unless you're really gifted, you wouldn't be able to tell."

"The crystals would have lit," he pleaded.

Xander glared at him.  "Do you know about Rosenburg?"  He nodded, looking pale.  "She couldn't have done this one.  You couldn't have done this one.  Ethan fucking Rayne with Ripper and Janus helping him couldn't have done this one!  They've moved on.  You're just fucked and you dirtied their memories and spirits with this.  She's probably crying and bawling because of you."  The cop broke and started to cry again.  "Think about that for the rest of your life and how others are now missing theirs.  Maybe you can stop the next one."

"I will," he promised, looking at him.  "Thank you."

Xander glared.  "I should kill you for this, but it'd be too merciful.  Torture is in the living."  He stomped out, coming back for his gun that Hodges had left on the table.  "I don't think you deserve that."  He took his service weapons as well.  "Or those."  He hopped out again, going to bag those.  He looked at his gun, then at his mate.  "He couldn't have shot himself, it's empty."

"I wanted to see him try."

Xander smiled and hopped over to hug him.  "I love you.  No one ever wanted to kill a psycho for me."  He nuzzled his neck.  "Can I be spoiled and pampered tonight?"

"Hell yes."  He walked Xander off, taking him home, their new home.  He had already called the movers and they'd be there tomorrow.  He carried Xander up to their bedroom, making a nest out of some blankets they had drug over a few days earlier to sit on while talking about decorating and having a picnic.  Then he got in next to him to hold him.  "Will you have to limp down the aisle?"

"If I do, can I be carried?"

"Sure, we'll get you sixteen nubile young men to carry you in and hand you to me.  I'll feel like some ancient Pasha or king."  He rolled his eyes.  "Idiot."  He kissed him, making Xander a happy boy.  He snuggled in until someone rang the doorbell, then he went to answer it.  "Hey," he said, looking at the movers.  "I thought we agreed on tomorrow."

"Fraser called us.  Your landlords were going to throw your stuff into the street.  We said we're moving it tomorrow, they said fat chance.  So we're doing it today but I'll only charge you a bit extra since you two make Ray a happy and content guy."  He grinned.  "Deal?"

"Sure," Hodges agreed.  "First load here?"

"Yeah, mostly kitchen stuff and your little yappy dog."  He got Sarah out of the truck and two of his guys got the boxes out of the back.

"Daddy's upstairs, Sarah," Hodges told her.  She ran up them, going to check on him then explore.  "Thanks."

"Not a problem.  You guys drive Ray insane. He hasn't been this happy since he and Ang were married."  He smirked at him.  "It'll take a few hours."

"Fine.  The stuff in the garage has to come too.  Those cases are weapons and locked and he said spelled."

"They'll come to wherever I am," Xander called down the stairs. "Sarah?  That's my thinking room."  He hopped down the stairs with her carefully in his shirt.  "Hey.  Thanks, guys.  How much extra?"

"A hundred.  You're an interesting couple to say the least."  He smirked at him and went back to moving stuff.  Even if it was hard to get that couch and those beds out of there, it was still a nice job and he could hire extra guys for it without them complaining.  For fags, they were great and nice guys.  They even tipped.  He wasn't sure why Ray liked 'em, but they were good to them.  Too bad they'd not have to move again for a while.  Then again, their bed was heavy and some of the guys didn't really want to touch it too much....

***

Nick rang the doorbell, looking at the house.  "This is nice."

"It should be with our mortgage," David said as he opened the door.  "Come on in.  We've got four spare bedrooms, one with twin beds, and the two offices with couches."  He let them inside, smirking at everyone.  "Plus a few other couches and Xander said he'd spring for at least two hotel rooms if necessary."

Greg got down to greet the dog, letting out his own little Nick.  They barked and licked each other, then Sarah showed him the doggy flap and around the house.  It was huge!  She could wander all day!  Greg got up and hugged Hodges now that everyone else was done.  "You okay?"

"I'm very okay," he admitted, checking before closing the door.  He looked at him.  "Warrick, kitchen table.  Clean up on that case."  He looked at Greg again.  "The idiot stabbed him with a knife he had used on a rooster.  He got food poisoning in his wound.  The doctors were quite amused and snickered behind his back but he's good now."

Greg grinned at that.  "Good.  Where is wonderboy?"

"In the bathroom.  He tried to make himself some nachos in the microwave last night."  Nick and Brass both laughed at that.  "Xander!  They're here!"

"I'm coming."  He came down the stairs and hugged everyone.  "Hi.  Like it?"

"I do," Catherine agreed, looking around.  "This is nice."

"It was on sale too," Xander said proudly.  "Nearly forty percent off."

"That's a good thing, right?" Sarah asked.

Greg nodded.  "Yes, sales are good things, Sarah."  He was discovering that Sarah was as female challenged as Xander was male challenged at times.  He counted heads again.  "Okay, there's eleven of us.  How are we splitting them up?"

"That depends, who wants to sleep with the doggy Sarah tonight?"

Nick snorted.  "I nap at the station and wake up with the little me a lot.  Won't bother me."

"Me either," Warrick admitted.

"I'll do a hotel," Grissom offered. "I'll probably be in the way as the old guy."

Xander smirked at him.  "Uh-huh.  So you're doing vodka shooters with me at the bachelor party, right, Griss"

"Not on your life," he said with a smile.  "I'm much too old for that.  I might shoot pool with you but not drink, Xander."

"Okay."  He beamed.  "Ladies?"

"We'll take the room with the twin beds," Catherine offered, looking at Sarah, who shrugged.  They were both nearly bowled over by the dogs running, being chased by Diefenbaker.

"Dief!" Xander yelled.  "No humping Sarah!  She's not going to have more puppies!"

"I really wish you had named her something else," Sarah said patiently.  "I just got mental images I did not need."

The guys laughed at that and Xander hugged her, making her feel better.   Everyone headed into the kitchen, along with the dogs who came when Xander opened the refrigerator.  Xander looked at Diefenbaker. "Your mountie will kill me," he said dryly.  "No begging."  Dief begged pitifully.  "Go give that to Ma. Fraser wanted to spank me the last time I gave you food.  And not in the fun way."  The wolf seemed to smirk at him and sniffed his leg, but went to beg the others.

"At least you give him meat," Hodges said as he laid out the snacks he had prepared and bought earlier.  "Stan gave him a brownie last night and Fraser about went off on him.  Drug him into the closet to really spank him and Stan was howling in pleasure by the end."

"I think that's why Stan gives Diefenbaker treats he's not supposed to have," Xander said wisely.  He grinned.  "Don't I do the same to you?"

"I can spank you now," David offered.

Xander gave him his sweet, kind, innocent, and good to kittens and puppies look.  "Love you."

"You're still getting it tonight, Xander."  He looked at the others.  "Sorry, he's been sedate for the last week.  He's hyper."

"Benny said I can't play with Diefenbaker or Turnbull," Xander agreed dryly.

"That's because you tried to take him hunting," David reminded him.  The door opened.  "The wolf's in here begging," he called.  Fraser walked in and Diefenbaker ran around him and up the stairs.

"Hey, Dief!" Stan called.  "Girls here?"

"Just my Nick," Greg called.  "Come on in, we're snacking."

Stan trotted in with Turnbull, who was smiling and holding a bag.  "We were hoping so.  I don't wanna cook tonight."  He put down the stuff from his bag, making Xander beam and hug him.  "Thanks.  Now remember, no making dirty sex jokes at Stella," he said patiently.  "The last time she went and got pregnant by a boytoy with low IQ."

"She slept with the Traffic guy who tried to ticket me for driving the department's car?"

Stan shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  She just said low IQ.  Which means he was dumber'n me."

"You're more than smart enough, Stanley," Fraser said firmly.  "Quit putting yourself down.  I hate it when you do that."

"What're ya gonna do, spank me?" he teased.

"If I must," he agreed.  He moved closer, chasing Ray out of the kitchen.  "Get back here!"

Turnbull rolled his eyes.  "They did this in front of Inspector Thatcher as well," he offered dryly.  "Must dash to catch them before they have all the fun."  He went to run after them, catching them in Xander and David's bedroom on their sofa.  "They're going to get peeved at us."

"Payback for that time Xander just *had* to have David during that scrabble game," Stan panted, letting Fraser do whatever he wanted to him.

"At least use the bathroom," Xander called from the bottom of the stairs.  "It's nice and comfy.  Try the bath mat."

"Xander!" David shrieked.  The others just laughed.  Xander was swatted when he came back into the kitchen and apologized, then grinned at Brass, Warrick, and Grissom, winking at Nick.  He turned back to his snuggly one and kissed him, making Catherine go 'awww' and sigh in pleasure.  "It won't get you out of trouble," Hodges said firmly.  He looked at Greg.  "I'm still having trouble house training him now and then.  Got any other suggestions?  The cool whip worked well."

Xander moaned and hid his face in his mate's shoulder.  "I didn't need that mental image, David, or else we're going to be shocking the trio."

The door slammed and Stan yelped.  David looked back, patting Xander on the back.  "Hey, Ray, Stella.  We're nibbling.  I guess Stan somehow realized it was you."

"He has exwife sensing radar.  It allows him to hide from me when I need to see him," she said bitterly.  She waved.  "Hi, all.  I'm Stella, Stan's ex.  I'm sure you all know Ray?"  They all nodded and waved at him.  "Good.  Stanley!"

"Coming," he called, jogging down the stairs.  He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.  "You just keep getting prettier and prettier," he teased.  "How's the baby?"

"Making me cranky.  What did that book say about morning sickness?"

"Survival of the fittest and the usual ginger ale and crackers."

"Hell, I was hoping for a medical cure."

"Modern medicine is wonderful, they have stuff for that now," Catherine called.  Stella headed in to talk to her.  "There's a couple of different things they can give you to combat the sickness.  Go in raging about work and puking on suspects, that's about how I got some.  I puked on a few too many clients."

"I'll have to talk to her," she agreed.  "Thank you. How old is your spawn?"

"Almost thirteen.  The fun years," she said dryly.  "Yours?"

"About three and a half months.  I got upset and got stupid with a man of questionable IQ and talent."

Catherine nodded.  "My ex husband was like that."  They shared a smile.  "Sit, nibble.  You should start to feel craving soon."

"I already do.  The baby likes green peppers."  She sat down and grabbed a few to nibble on and Xander hugged her.  "Thank you.  Want to adopt it?"

"David said no kids," Xander said, sounding sorry.  "But I could babysit now and then to help spoil them."

"Them?  It'd had better be one, not mor than one," she said firmly.  "No litters."

"I was using 'them' in a gender neutral sense," Xander promised.  He patted her tummy.  "Hello, baby spawn of law hell."

She snorted.  "Yes, this one will be a judge as long as it doesn't have its father's IQ."

"Was it the same guy who tried to ticket me for driving a department vehicle to a scene?"

Stella raised an eyebrow.  "No, he wasn't quite that stupid.  More of the stupid criminal class of stupid.  Only legal."

"Hutchins?" he asked quietly.  She nodded.  "Well, hopefully it'll have his hair.  He has pretty hair."  She snickered at that so he gave her another hug.  "Want me to cut up more peppers?"

"That would mean you were cooking and we'd have to arrest you," Ray said patiently.  "Want more, Stella?"

"No, we're good with these."  She looked at the others.  "Yes, he's still insane."

Grissom smirked at her.  "You should have seen him with us.  You only got the side trips into the world of strange that we had with Xander."

"I still like the local voodoo high priest coming in to ask why I was upsetting his Loa," Xander offered.  "He did ask me politely to stop and offered to make a voodoo doll of someone for me.  Oh, Grissom, want the one I have for the sheriff?"

"No, that's okay.  I've got one of my own already."  Brass choked at that.  He smirked at him. "It sits out on my desk all the time.  He comes in to play with the hair now and then.  Said it makes his own grow."

The doorbell rang and Xander looked down the hall.  "Come in, Inspector."  She walked in and closed the door behind her.  "Welcome.  Come meet some of the people who knew I was insane first."  She walked in to join them.  "Guys, and ladies, this is Inspector Margaret Thatcher, RCMP and Benny and Rennie's bosslady.  She is as fierce as I told you but she's off duty so she's modulating her bark so my dog doesn't lick her again."

"Not my fault she wanted to be Canadian.  We tried very hard to get you to switch over.  I still say you can have Turnbull if you want him and you agree to switch countries.  We'd even let you continue to work for the police department. After all, you can marry legally with us."

He hugged her.  "I know I can, but you've got to get David to agree.  He makes all the big decisions and we come as a team."

She looked over at him.  "David?  It'd probably get you a raise."

"It'd be good for the career too," he agreed dryly.  "I'll see if I can talk Xander into it, but Stan can keep Turnbull.  I don't share.  I'm quite possessive as I've recently found out."

"With a temper," Xander agreed, grinning at him.  "I still say you did good, honey."

"What did you do?" Brass asked tolerantly.

"The day the guy stabbed me, Hodges went to threaten the guy doing the killings.  Told him he was going to destroy everything he had held dear in front of him and then make him cry worse."  David looked embarrassed but nodded.

"I'm impressed," Brass offered.  "I never knew you had a temper."

"I don't usually, but that guy deserved it."

"Oooh, he's just like a cute little rabid bunny rabbit," Anya said as she appeared.

Xander opened a cabinet door and threw something from a jar at her.  "Begone, spirit.  It's bad enough I had to pay off your credit card bill."  She pouted so he threw more on her.  "Go or I'm telling Dawnie when she gets here tonight with the baby."  She faded out and he looked at his guy.  "I'll ward us against that later.  All she wants to do is watch us have sex anyway."  He put back the jar and shook his head, sighing a bit.  "For those of you who didn't know, that was Anya.   Yes, that Anya."

"She was a pretty girl," Sarah offered.

"She was a money grubbing ho," Hodges told her.

"Well, we all have faults," she said tolerantly, smirking at him.  "Is he still spoiling you?"

"Yup, all the time.   I got a case of chocolate frogs the other day for some reason."

"Well, I ordered them but I was going to share them," Xander offered quickly.  "I was going to let you have the cards anyway."

Hodges gave him a kiss, smirking at him.  "If you touch any of those, I'll tie you down and leave you lying there.  I'm not letting you eat a case of chocolate frogs.  There's no way in hell I'd do that to this city."

"Thank you," Ray and Stan chimed in, followed quickly by Stella.

"Chocolate frogs?" Warrick asked.

"Like from the Harry Potter books?" Catherine said, shaking her head.

"They're Nestle Crunch things shaped like the chocolate frogs and they've got trading cards," Xander said happily.   "I figured I'd start a collection."

Hodges groaned.  "Just don't eat them all."

"I said I'd share."  David raised an eyebrow.  "With the whole office?" he offered.

"Sure, you go feed Huey chocolate," Ray said dryly.  "I wanna see you get diet boy to do that."

"I fed him baklava the other night," Xander said dryly, staring him down.  "He gets in the mood for sweets."

"I still wanna see that," Stan agreed.  "Huey eats salads and good stuff."

Xander snorted.  "No biggie.  Tomorrow good?"  They all nodded.  "Fine, I'll get some from the sacred stash.  I'll just buy an extra one for our future collection."

"He's also got Quidditch, the card game.  Be very afraid," Hodges told his friends.  They laughed and settled in to catch up and gossip.

***

Xander walked up to the squad room, smiling at the four people in it.  "David said I had to share before I had the rest of the case I bought, but he wants the trading cards," he announced, uncovering the box.  "So, who's going to save the city from me on a chocolate high?"

Dewey looked at them.  "They actually make chocolate frogs?"

Xander beamed and nodded.  "They started around book four and the second movie.  They're pretty good.  They're Crunch style.  David's collecting the cards.  So I ordered a case, but he said I can't eat the whole case.  He said I had to try to give away as many as I could, as long as he got the cards."

Dewey took two and went to his desk, putting one aside.  "Thanks, Xander.  I needed the chocolate."

Stan came over to grab himself one, going back to his seat.  "Do not eat that before your shift starts," Welsh ordered.  Stan looked guilty.  "We don't need another incident where you bounced a suspect around, do we?" he asked, looking at the case.  "They're not real frogs, right?"

"No, no frogs or frog parts. Even the frog phobic can nibble on them."  He waved the box around a bit.  "If you don't at least one, it's one more I get to eat tonight."  Welsh took four, heading into his office. He'd save some for the wife.  She liked chocolate.   Xander looked at his true target, who was still looking horrified.  "How about you?  You want one, Huey?"

"I shouldn't," he said, staring at it.

"You're so good the rest of the time, you deserve a chance to be a little bit bad," he offered.  "Besides, think about me with twenty chocolate frogs tonight for dinner."

Huey again looked horrified.  "I was trying not to.  You're not coming up here, right?"

"Not unless I'm driven up here by someone.  David wanted me to give away all but one of them."  He leaned closer.  "They're even still cold," he shared.  Stan let out a small moan of pleasure.  "Good aren't they?"  He tossed him another one and grinned at Huey again.  "That way he can tease Benny and Turnbull."  He held the box closer.  "Are you *sure*?" he offered.

Huey stared at them.  "I really shouldn't."

"Huey, you've been on this diet as long as I've known you," Xander protested.  "You're *always* good on it.  You've only cheated twice in the last year and a bit that I know of.  You can have a chocolate frog.  Just nibble a piece now and then have some later when you're having an energy crisis."  He leaned closer.  "Either that or do what I plan on doing later with at least one warm one and spread it over someone's chest to lick it off."

Huey looked at him. "I didn't need that image either," he complained.  He looked at the box.  "I hate temptation."

"Yeah, well, temptation is there so even the best of the best get to be bad for a few hours.  Otherwise the good guys go all stiff and start to iron their shorts."  Huey laughed at that.  "Don't believe me?  Stan, is Benny still ironing and starching his shorts?"

"Hell no.  I put a stop to that," he said happily, smirking at Huey.  "He needed the break from being the purest of the good guys."

Huey took two and sat down, breaking into the first to nibble on a back leg.  "These are pretty good."

Vecchio came up the stairs, looking at Huey.  Then he looked at Xander.  "I'm impressed," he offered.

Xander beamed at him.  "David said I could eat any that I didn't give away," he said happily.  "Besides, he needed the time out to be naughty.  Even the biggest of the good guys has to have a naughty time out now and then to retain sanity and fun levels."  He gave him a goofy grin and skipped down the stairs.  "I'm off to finish off the case and later smoosh one into David's chest to lick off."

"Excuse me?" Ray demanded, turning to stare at him.  "Oh, no, I'm going to confiscate those to save the damn city!" he shouted, running after him.  He and Benny had seen Xander on a chocolate high once.  He still had nightmares about it.  Xander giggled and headed for the parking lot.  "Xander!  Give those chocolate frogs over!  You're not allowed to eat a case of chocolate!"

"I gave Stan two, Welsh has four, Huey has two, and Dewey has two," he called back.  "It's only two-thirds of the case, Ray."  He dodged around the Riv, staring at Ray across it.  "My chocolate, David said so," he said smugly.

"Don't make me shoot you," he warned, moving to intercept him but Xander spun and jumped the fence surrounding the parking lot, heading around the front of the building.  Ray swore and headed through the building.  It'd take too long to jump the fence.  That brat was fast.  "How many have you had!" he demanded.

"Twelve!  I bought two cases!" he shouted, dodging the grab attempt with a giggle, heading back outside.  Ray was still chasing him so he ate another one on the run, sticking the wrapper down inside the box.  A few of the patrol guys and girls stared at them, but he only waved and grinned.  "I ordered chocolate frogs.  David said I could have whatever I couldn't give away."  He saw Stella parking and ran to hide behind her, panting a bit now.  "Save me?" he yelped, taking off again when Ray caught up to him.

"What's going on!" she demanded.

"David told him he could eat whatever he couldn't give away of the two cases of chocolate candy," Ray shouted.  "I'm saving the city!"  Xander spit at him and ran into a car, but he dove across the back of it and hopped the fence again.  Ray nearly got him, but the back of his shirt slipped out of his hands so he had to follow him.  It was an empty lot and there wasn't another way in.  Xander squealed as he ran off, then came back and pointed, smirking at him before taking off again.

"Get your ass back here, Xander!" he shouted, nearly tripping over the body.  He kicked it on the leg and it woke up.  "Get out!  You're interrupting my chase."  He ran after Xander again.  "He wasn't dead and he won't save you!" he shouted.  "If I have to chase you around this city, I will!  I'll get Benny ta help!"  He saw another flash of red and smirked.  "Turnbull, Xander's got chocolate and he's threatening to eat the whole case!  Help me stop him!"

Turnbull got in Xander's way, taking the box and picking out three, then smiling and handing it back.  "Thank you kindly, Xander.  I'm sure Stanley will like these."  Ray made a grab but Xander dodged and ran back around to the back of the building.  Turnbull looked at the angry glare.  "It's not against the law to eat chocolate, detective.  It's a rather nice thing."

"Him with nearly a case of chocolate, Turnbull.  He'll be like Godzilla."  He ran after the boy.  He was tired.  He was not doing this again tonight.  He'd seen chocolate in Stan's hand so he'd have him chase people later.  He found Xander outside the building coughing and grabbed him, handcuffing him and walking him downstairs.  "I don't know who hit him, but thank you," Vecchio called.  "Make sure his man gets all those cards back."  He walked him down to David's office, seeing the amused smirk.  "He ordered two cases of chocolate and you let him!  Did you want him to become Godzilla and rampage!  How could you do this to us!  We like you enough to take you in and you let him destroy the city!"

"Two cases?" he asked, looking at Xander.  "Really?"  Xander gave him that same sweet, innocent, kind to puppies and kittens look.  "Not working," he said firmly.  "Two?"

Xander sighed and nodded.  "The other was for the wedding guests," he offered.

"You've had how many?" Ray demanded.

"Four," he said weakly, taking a few steps away from him.  He had seen a paperclip and was now working on the locks.  "Sorry.  You didn't have to climb the fence after me."  He got one side free and looked at his mate, grinning sweetly.  "He did. He climbed over the fence after me.  He didn't have to.  He's the one who decided to chase me."

Mort came in with the mostly empty box.  "Fraser stopped him, detective.  He thought that having that much chocolate would damage the poor boy.  So he stopped him and took them from him."  He handed it to David.  "All but a few of the cards.  I didn't know you collected."

"Xander saw my other cards and suggested I start a collection of these," he admitted.  "Since they're not really widely known about and they're movie related they might be worth the investment.  It's not too bad."

"No, I suppose it's not," he agreed gently.

Ray looked around.  "Where did he go?" he demanded.

"He snuck out about a minute ago," Mort offered, making the other men groan.  "Isn't he all right?"

"He's already had four," David complained.

"Yeah, and he's planning on having another one on your chest later," Ray told him.

"Fat chance of that.  He'd bounce me out of the bed again.  Either that or I'd have to call off tomorrow."  Mort snickered.  "You promised."

"I did, I'm sorry," he assured him, smiling gently.  "At least Xander's not on tonight."

"No, he's not," David agreed bitterly.  "I got the dates wrong on my form."

"When you're done, you can go," Mort assured him with a smile.  "You've got to get pretty for the wedding after all."  He left.

Ray frowned at David.  "Can't you use a leash or something?"

"I don't like him in a leash and a collar.  He looks odd and he barks."

Ray stared at him.  "I don't wanna know how you know that," he said, heading back to his desk.  He glared at Kowalski.  "You're chasin' perps tonight."

"Sure," he agreed happily, eating one of the ones Turnbull had snatched for him.  "Where's Xander?"

"Escaped.  Benny got the box from him but then he escaped after picking handcuff locks."  He glared at the wall, then at the door when it banged open.  Stella came in, mouth open.  "Yeah, he's ten times worse than your ex on chocolate.  He's already had four if that lets you know anything."

"Stanley, put down the chocolate and back away from it," she ordered firmly.  "You are *NOT* allowed to have mass quantities of the stuff.  You know better!"

"Blow me, Stell.  We're not married anymore," he said sweetly, using Xander's sweet, yet evil smirk on her.  "Remember, you said I was boring in bed."  He ate another piece.  "Look what I manage to please instead."

"Stanley!" Fraser shouted, looking shocked.

Turnbull looked at her.  "You really didn't like it when he did that tongue thing?  I find it quite pleasurable and enjoyable."

"Turnbull!" Fraser shouted, glaring at him.  "That was not an appropriate comment!  Apologize!"

"Sorry, Madam Kowalski.  I meant no insult," he said sheepishly, blushing a bit.  She glared and stomped off.  "Perhaps some flowers?" he asked his lover.

"Might help but you might find 'em over your head," Stan offered, eating the last piece of that one.  "I found a blonde in a bar pretty, so I did that one already.  And yeah, she liked the tongue thing but she didn't wanna have sex often enough to enjoy it."  He shrugged.  "Pitter patter, Vecchio.  Crime's waitin' on you and your lard butt."

"Excuse me?  Lard butt?  I just chased Xander around the damn block."

"Yeah, and you didn't catch 'im.  You're gettin' old, Vecchio.  Let's go.  I'll drive so your arthritis isn't bothering you again."  He smirked that same sweet, yet evil smirk and grabbed the files and keys, heading downstairs.  "C'mon, ya freak."

"I'm going to gut him," Vecchio growled, following.  He slapped Stan across the head and went to his own car, getting in to drive.

"You sure you wanna do that with how tired you are after chasin' the Xander?" he teased.

"Get in, shut up, and behave.  Or else I'm going to make you puke that chocolate up on the sidewalk and then clean it up with your tongue.  Get in!"  Stan got in with a laugh and the two Mounties followed at a jog to come help.  This was a planned event but he was still pissed at Xander for making him chase him that way.

***

Xander walked into the bookstore he had ordered from, grinning at her.  "It was such a big hit at the office that we need more.  How many more cases do you have?  We're giving them away at the wedding too."

"We've got five cases in the back," she offered.  "Another under the counter," she said with a smile.  "We just did inventory earlier."

"Perfect.  I'll take 'em."  He smiled and handed over the debit card, watching as she ran it then went to get those chocolate frogs for him.  He had tonight off so he went to the local park to play on the playground and eat some of them.  Not even he could eat six cases of chocolate frogs, but after ten he was buzzing happily.  He heard an insane giggle and looked around, jumping off the swing with a wince for his poor barely healed thigh.  "I told you to leave the city, Druscilla!" he shouted.  She came out from under some trees still giggling.  "I meant it."

"You are such a silly dark kitten," she offered with a grin.  "You play like a child.  Miss Edith would love to play with you, kitten.  Only she's been naughty.  She tried to bite me when I had to drill a new hole to release the demons in there.  They got too crowded."  She walking in a floating-on-clouds way toward him, smiling happily.  "I could play with you."

He beamed and nodded, bringing her to push her on the swing.  He got her to the point where she was giggling and happily kicking her feet, then used the momentum of the swing to stake her.  He moved to a different swing once she had dusted up.  "Sure.  But I don't wanna play with you, you don't like me that much.  Now Spike, he could play."  He went back to his playing, grinning at the young girl sniffing around his boxes of frogs.  "They're fine," he called.  "You can have one.  Just leave the card, kid.  My husband collects them."  He went back to swinging, giggling like a little kid as he went higher.

The eight-year-old took one and went to talk to her mother, leaving the card there like requested.  "Mom?"  Her mother looked at her, then at the frog.  "Oh, there's a guy giggling on the swings from his sugar high.  He said I could have one, just give him the card.  I didn't know they were putting out the chocolate frogs. I thought it was just the Bertie Bott's."  She let her mother have the package while she ate.  "He had sealed ones too.  He was giggling madly as he swung."

"You're not supposed to do that!" her mother shouted.

"Mom, his Chicago PD ID card was on top of the other boxes.  He's a cop."

Xander came walking past them, nodding politely at them.  "I did say she could have one of my frogs.  I'm in a good mood, I'm getting married this weekend."  He handed the mother one with a smile and walked on.  The park was too crowded and the kids didn't want to play with someone his size so he decided to find someone else to play with.  He found Brass in his yard, watching the lights come on around the city and handed him five of the cases, smirking at his horrified look.  "I've only had twelve."  He sat down beside him.  "Ray chased me," he said proudly.  "I even got him to jump a fence to chase me."

"Congrats, kid," he offered, reaching over to neck pinch him.  Xander was out and he patted him as he let the kid rest against him.  "Sleep it off, kid.  Before you drive David into killing you."  He patted the kid down and found his cellphone, calling the one marked 'office'.  "Hey, it's Jim Brass," he said.  "I just knocked Xander out.  He's back here.  No, twelve.  Sure.  Tell Vecchio he's sorry."  He hung up and put the phone back into his pants pocket, then settled in to relax and watch the night come out.  You could see some stars from this neighborhood.  It was a pretty sight.

***

Sheila walked into Trace.  "Someone named Jim Brass said he had Xander knocked out after eating twelve frogs.  Should I roll SWAT?"

"No, Captain Brass and Xander have this special dad/odd stepchild relationship," he said dryly.  "He was our overlord in Vegas.  He knows Xander very well."  He smirked at her.  "Twelve?  I'm impressed he's not sick."

"He got Ray to jump the fence.  He won about three hundred bucks in the pool."  She winked and strolled off.

"They were betting on it?" he called after her.

"Him and Dewey," she called back.  "They were talking by the front desk earlier.  He got Jack Huey to eat some and made Ray chase him around the block, plus jump that fence.  It would've been five but only Ray chased him and he only jumped the fence once."

David called Ray's phone.  "Did you know you were set up?" he asked.  He winced at the sound of the gunshot.  "Want me to call Xander?  Bras has him asleep."  He winced at the other shot.  "No, he and Dewey set you up to chase him.  Which isn't as disturbing as him setting up Huey.  Sure."  He hung up and shook his head, walking out into the main office.  He found Huey out there, frog halfway to his mouth.  "He's reveling in his temptation of you to be naughty, Jack.  Stan dared him to."

"Oh.  That's fine then.  Who's betting on that scene today?"

"Your partner and Xander."

"Hmm.  I'll get Dewey later.  That boy deserves it for making Vecchio chase him that long.  Too bad Fraser stepped in to stop him.  He's got to have some bruises.  He ran right into him and Fraser held the struggling young man."

"He's had twelve of them," David said grimly.  "Brass knocked him out."

"Good.  He's too hyper already.  I can't imagine him with a case of them.  Did you really say he could have the rest?"  David groaned and nodded.  "Got you during sex?"

"Oh, yeah.  Definitely.  I'm sure I'll regret it later."  He handed over his report to Mort.  "Xander's on a chocolate high.  He had twelve of those frogs."

"He didn't have any on him when Fraser got done with him.  How?" Huey asked, finishing up his last frog.

"Oh, shit, he bought more," David said, going to call the bank's customer service department to see where he had purchased them.  He came out, kicking the wall.  "He bought six cases."

"Oh, shit," Huey said in awe.  "Hopefully he's sharing those."  The thought of Xander on twelve frogs was bad, six cases would be so bad.  They'd have to rebuild part of the city.

"Well, Detective Vecchio did think he was going to become Godzilla," Mort said patiently.

He went back into his office.  He moaned and shook his head, calling the house.  "Take those stupid ass frogs away from him," he growled.  "Before he eats more, Greg.  He's had twelve and he bought six more cases."  He hung up and put his head down on the desk.  Did he really want to marry Xander?  Then again, he was the only one with any hope of keeping him under control.  They'd probably make him marry Xander if he tried to back out now.  He looked up.  "What did I do to deserve this?" he demanded.

"You were too good and he said you needed some naughtiness before you started to iron your shorts like Fraser used to," Huey said from the doorway, smirking at him.  "Yes, we will be tying you up and dragging you there if you try to run away from him.  I can't imagine dealing with Xander if that happened, or having to come search his house for weapons."

"He ironed his shorts?" Hodges demanded.  "Why?"

"Actually, he used to iron and starch his shorts," Huey admitted.  "Fraser's just like that.  He liked the cardboard around his hole I guess."  He shrugged.  "Who am I to judge.  Or anyone.  By the way, Dewey noticed it.  Did you allow Xander out without underwear?"

"No!"

"Well, then he changed."  He smirked at him.  "Got the Feretti case done yet?"

"Nearly.  I'm working on the report," he admitted, going to do that for him.  He checked it over then printed it off, handing it over with a sigh.  "I've got to find a better way to control that boy.  When I put the collar on him, he barks.  Then Sarah barks and sits beside him, giving me stereo pitiful looks."

Huey chuckled.  "Just pounce the guy, David.  That's all he wanted.  He wanted to play.  I heard he went to the park to swing from some of the patrol guys.  He wasn't sure that the person who disappeared into a cloud of dust was something to worry or remark on."  He winked.  "Play with the boy.  Make him a sore guy too so he's not so fast the next time."  He walked off with the report.  "Thanks, man."

"Welcome."  He settled in to make plans.  Xander was going to be sorry when he got home.  Very sorry.  And quite sore in the morning.  He'd have to stand to get his haircut.  Yes, that would be a pleasant thought.  He called the store they got the lube at, whispering at the cashier to put some things aside for him, that he'd be in on his lunch break later.  Then he hung up and got to work.  Since he could go home early and all....

***

Xander rushed in to his changing area at the abbey, looking panicked.  "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, got that right," David said from behind him.  "Xander, an explanation?" he asked patiently, walking inside and slamming the door before Ray could interrupt him.

"Bachelor party?" he offered weakly, staring at his man.  "Sorry, honey."

"Mine was fairly sedate.  What happened at yours?"

"Um, the women tried one last time," he said hesitantly, backing up a step.  "I promise, I didn't touch, I told them I was marrying you, and they still tried.  They decided I was too nice to be with a guy so they tried to make me straight and I still refused and I ran away and I promise I didn't touch them to do more than dance with them," he offered, babbling the whole way.  "I was even good and came back when one of them tried to snatch me but the cop I complained to arrested us for being drunk."

Hodges took a moment to unscramble the words in his head, then looked at him.  "The cop arrested you for being drunk and almost being kidnaped?"  Xander nodded.  "Who?"

"Hurley, Hurlis, something like that.  We were at the Shadow so it was the sixteenth."

"Hmm, why did he arrest you for being drunk?"

"He said no real man would have complained about being kidnaped by six pretty girls."

"Six.  All right," Hodges sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose to stop the headache.  "Xander, you're not allowed out without bodyguards.  Armed bodyguards."

"I went out with Stan and the Mounties.  They just lost me.  Huey got me free by talking to their captain and telling him what was going on and why I had complained.  He agreed, the officer's going to be doing park detail for a week."

"Which is good, perhaps he'll learn better next time," Hodges said grimly, moving closer.  "Xander, are you having doubts?"  Xander shook his head.  "You're sure?"  Xander nodded, grinning goofily at him.  "Absolutely sure?"  Xander pulled him closer to kiss him, making his intentions very clear.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome.  I just went out to the Shadow with the guys and they lost me."

"That's all right, it happens," he soothed.  "Maybe it'll calm down after we come back from our trip."  They shared another kiss and then David swatted him.  "You're running behind, change.  I'll let Stan in."  He left, going back to his own changing area to calm himself down.  Greg smirked at him.  "Don't even.  Stan let him be kidnaped last night."

"Why?" Greg asked.

"Why do they want him?" Hodges said sarcastically.  "The person who solves that riddle can duplicate it and sell it for all I care. That way it'll become common place and he'll only be at home."

Greg nodded.  "I'm working on it," he promised.  He fused with his bowtie.  "There, perfect.  Now fuss with your hair."

Huey leaned in the door.  "David, we've got a small problem," he said gently.

"The bitches who tried to kidnap him?"

"No, the stalker who got the cars at the sixteenth."  He came in and shut the door.

"All the cars?" Greg asked.

"Just the patrol car Xander was driven in and the officer's personal car were vandalized," Huey offered.  "We're pretty sure one of you has a real stalker."

"Any idea what she looks like?"

"We saw dark hair, about shoulder length, but she was wearing a hat and a loose button up shirt with black jeans."

Hodges sat down to consider it.  "It's odd, but I had this woman come up to me at the martini bar the other night when Xander was running late.  She mentioned him by name, asked if I made him happy."  He looked at Huey.  "Not if we were happy, if I made him happy.  Did I make him play and laugh was another thing she asked.  She kept reaching for her pocket too so I'm guessing she had something in there."

"Do you remember what she looked like?" Huey asked, pulling out his notepad.

"Um, dark hair, just laid on her shoulders barely.  A bit wavy but not really, just enough to be noticeable, like Xander's before he had his cut."  He closed his eyes and thought back.  "Really stunning green eyes.  Unusual shade of green.  I asked if they were contacts.  Um, fair but not pale skin.  Had kinda a red undertone.  Rounded chin instead of pointed."  He opened his eyes, looking at him.  "She was about up to my chin when she stood up.  I left about then and she walked off.  She smelled like gardenias?  Some strong flower perfume.  I think it was gardenias.  I know it wasn't roses or that new chrysanthemum one that's just come out.  I smelled some of that to see if it was something I could get as a holiday present for Catherine or Frannie."  He thought back, then slowly shook his head.  "That's about all I could remember.  You might ask him.  He's usually got a pretty good idea of who's stalking him this time."

"Sure.  Thanks, David.  I'd be careful but not paranoid.  She didn't hurt you."  He shrugged.  "Try not to fight in public."

"I always try," he pointed out dryly.  "It's bad for my image to fight with him in public."

"Good point.  I'm going to talk to Xander."

"Sure.  I heard his door shut a minute ago," Greg offered. "They're probably at the reason for the yelling."

"Thanks."

***

Stan leaned in Xander's room, coming in to help him do his shirt properly.  "We've got a small issue outside," he offered quietly.  "The Abbey knew it was two guys, right?"

"Yeah, I said I and my mate, David.  Kinda hard to get around that," he admitted.  "They met David too."

"We've got the bigot patrol outside."

"Wonderful.  Picketing?  Signs?  Chants?"

"Yup," he offered, picking up the bowtie to put it on his buddy.  He tied it and stepped back, then straightened it out.  "There, better."

"Thanks."  He headed outside, stopping at his car to pull something out of the trunk.  Then he continued to the walls around the abbey.  "Hey, Sister."  She stared at him, and the thing he had stopped to pick up.  "Non-lethal," he assured her, letting her see it.  "Just annoying those Godless heathens and hypocrites."

"They believe what they do," she chided gently.

"Yeah, but that doesn't give them the right to picket my wedding."  He smiled sweetly.  "I'll be right back."  She laughed and let him out the gate, watching as he walked closer.  "Guys," he said patiently.  "What are you doing?"

"This abbey is being dirtied by this unholiness," one woman shouted.

"Prove it."

"It's in the book!" she shouted, sounding outraged.

"Really?  Because I've read it in the *original* format, you know, the one that originally was given, before it got altered by King James, and it doesn't say a damn thing about gay men in there.  Or gay women."  They stared at him in horror.  "Now, I don't know what *translation* you're reading, but I can find you a copy of the original if you wanted.  Even in the original Latin, from when it was only in Latin."

"The Holy Book is in English!" a man said, looking horrified.

"Before it was in English, it was in Latin," Xander told him.  "The whole world spoke it at one point in time.  Don't believe me, go ask a real minister or the nuns inside.  Now, you're spoiling what's meant to be a happy day between two consenting and knowledgeable adults.  Ones who tried to be straight and it didn't suit them."

"They're going to hell," another woman hissed.

"Then we'll see you there.  After all, hypocrites and bitches like you hit Hell before those who fight on the side of right, even if they are gay."  He stared at her.  "By the way, I've seen Hell.  I've seen more than enough of hell.  I'd gladly show you around hell if you want, but I'm sure by the time you get there, it'll be much too late for the tour.  But yeah, we'll see you down there."

"Who are you!" the man demanded.  "You're one of them?" he sneered.

"No, honey, I'm a criminalist.  I deal in ballistics."  He shot him with the paintball rifle, then stared at him.  "Ya know, back when I was still straight, I'd have used a real gun.  It's a good thing my man's calmed me down, huh?"  The man whimpered and he glared at him.  "Now, *you're* polluting this holy and sacred ground with your hate.  The Abbey knew we were gay.  They met with David and I.  Holy ground or not, this is not even your version of the faith.  If you're not Catholic, you have no grounds to protest what goes on in their abbeys."  He shot the man rushing him in the chest, then glared at him.  "Try it again," he offered.  "Paintballs aren't lethal, they just sting a whole bunch.  I can keep going alllll day long."

"I'm going to call the cops!  You're assaulting us!" the newly shot man whined.

"Go ahead.  You want me to get the cops from inside?" Xander taunted.  "There's about ten of them in there, all straight, who won't let you get away with this either.  I do believe the nuns asked you to leave politely.  I gave you the chance to leave politely.  You should have taken it."

"Xander!" Ray snapped, coming out to take the gun.  "Give me that.  No shooting at the imbeciles."

"It's a paintball gun."

"I don't care!  They could have real weapons and you've got a new stalker!"

"Good, hopefully she goes to paint them pretty colors while they're asleep.  That way they can be mad that they're not white anymore."

Ray groaned and turned him around, pushing him toward the door.  "Inside."

"Yes, Detective Vecchio."  He looked at the guys.  "This is a real cop.  You can ask him to arrest me."

Ray looked at them.  "You guys wanna file a complaint against our ballistics tech?  The one who solves serial cases?"  They took another step back.  "He's right, if you're not Catholic, you have no right to protest what goes on inside our walls.  So convert or go home."  He walked Xander inside and kicked the door closed, handing Stan the paintball gun.  "Use it on him if he gets any more bright ideas," he complained, going to check on his mother and nieces and nephews.  "The protestors are mad, but afraid," he told Welsh.

"Protesters?"

"Yeah, anti-gay idiots.  Xander had a paintball gun in his trunk."  He walked off, shaking his head.  Ray just smirked.  Only Xander and Stan got that reaction.  He found his family milling around along with Turnbull.  "Watch Xander better, Turnbull.  He went to shoot the protesters."

Ma looked very upset at that and stomped to the main gates, going out there to chew them a new one.  Mostly in Italian, but they were still cowering by the time she got done with them.

"Go Ma," Stan said in appreciation, watching her go off.  Ray hit him across the back of the head.  "Sorry, but that's impressive.  The teachers at the academy weren't that good at chewing us out."

"They deserved it," Xander said as he joined them.  He looked around.  "Did David run off?"

"No.  He's with Huey and Dewey talking to a sketch artist by phone," Stan admitted, turning to look at him.  "You've got another one and she went to vandalize the cars the officer used to bring ya in and his personal car.  She also went ta check on your boy and make sure he made you happy."

Xander raised an eyebrow and went that way, looking at the picture coming up on the computer.  "Her name's Valeria Marks.  She's a Science major, or was actually, at UCLA.  She got kicked out for ethical violations.  She was using some of her fellow students to experiment on."  They all stared at him.  "Really.  By the way, her eyes are this aqua color.  I never was sure if they were contacts or not."

David looked at him.  "How long was she put away for?"

"She's in the same facility Tanya went to.  My serial killer ex."  He grimaced.  "We thought it was until she was cured and then did her ten year sentence.  I'm guessing they need security upgrades if she and Tanya both snuck out at different times."  He yawned.  "Honey, I shot at the protesters.  Sorry.  Couldn't help myself."

"With what?" Huey asked.

"Don't make us bring you in, Xander," Dewey moaned.

"Why?  Want your gift back?" he teased.  He smirked at him.  "I had a paintball gun in the trunk still.  I used that.  I'd never shoot anyone with a real gun with so many cops and nuns around.  They might glare at me."

David moaned and one hand drifted up to hold his forehead.  Huey leaned over to get next to his ear.  "Remember what I told you," he hissed.  "If you don't marry him and keep him sane and normal, we'll be tying you up and making you."  He looked at Dewey, who was typing in the name.  They got her dossier and file and then the FBI warrant for her arrest.  "Good.  She's wanted.  We can easily do that."  He smiled as a young woman walked over to them.  "Miss Summers."

"Dawn, please," she offered with a smile.  "Is it nearly time?  The kids are tired and cranky.  Not just mine.  She's presently napping on a nun's lap because Mandy thought she was neat."

Xander looked at David.  "Last chance to run from me. Then I get to become possessive and evilly stalk you around the office forever to get cuddles and lovies."

David looked at him.  "You don't have to stalk me for cuddles and kisses, Xander.  Only when I'm in a bad mood."  He gave him a gentle kiss.  "Go to your position and wait.  Be a good boy and I'll see you in a few minutes."

Xander beamed and went that way, jogging lightly.  "Places, people," Ray called.  "Xander's bouncy again."  The ushers, Turnbull and Fraser, worked quickly to get everyone seated, and then the music started.  David walked in.  Xander was walked in.  The minister doing the ceremony smiled at that.  "It's necessary, I'm like his alternate dad."  He looked at Jim Brass, who smirked at him.  "I got adopted after he had to let him go."

"Fine."  The minister smiled at the happy couple.  "Together, the world can be stopped and healed," he announced.  "The power of love is one that can help with that.  Not in my many years of marrying couples of all sorts have I seen a love that is strong enough to not only heal those in love, but to spread out and heal others.  So is the love these two share.  So let them be joined."

***

Xander walked back in his first day back, smiling and happy.  "Hi."  He put his puppy down, watching as she trotted off, heading for her water dish.  Then she glared back at him since it was empty.  Their new DNA tech gave him a dirty look so he smirked.  "What?  She's a very clean dog, she knows the lab rules, and she likes to sleep under the mass spec.  She actually gave birth under there."  He poured some water for his little girl and headed for the office, finding Mort eating at his desk.  "You're not supposed to do that, you'll belch later," he teased, smirking at him.  "I take it the ice princess is the new nightshift DNA tech?"  He nodded, eating another bite.  Sarah came in and hopped up in his visitor's chair, tipping her head to the side and barking.  Mort tossed her a piece of chicken and she scarfed it then went back to her daddies' labs.  "David had to stop and pick up his jackets at the dry cleaners.  He's running a bit behind."

"Not a problem, Xander."  He finished his lunch.  "Shall we adjourn for the meeting?  We were only waiting for you two."

"Sure."  He came out and took his usual seat, grinning at everyone.  "Yes, I'm a happy Xander who already had a coke," he offered.  "David's coming."

"You left him tied up and begging?" their fingerprint tech teased.

He snorted and shook his head.  "Not even.  Dry cleaners don't make him that happy."  David came in and smirked at them all.  "See.  She wanted to know if I left you tied up today."

"No, that was two days ago," he admitted, kissing her on the cheek.  "Give me a few minutes, Mort."  He headed back to his lab to hang up his spare coats, finding Sarah in there on his table.  "You know better."  She sniffed something then barked at him and went back to sniffing.  He looked at the puddle, then at the ceiling.  "Mort, we have a leak from the detective's bathroom," he called, putting Sarah onto the floor.  "Thank you, girl.  Don't you try to do that too.  That's naughtiness that the guys upstairs did."  Sarah barked and followed him back.  "Right on my work table."

"Are you sure that dog didn't do it?" the new woman asked snidely.

"Considering there's a spot on the ceiling, there's some missing tiles up there, and the puddle wasn't that fresh, yeah," he assured her, glaring at her.  He looked at Mort.  "No way I'm processing anything in there until I've cleaned it totally and they've got it fixed."

"That's fine.  We've been doing things out here mostly, David," Mort said gently.   "Unfortunately I am going to have to rob you of Xander for a few hours.  It seems he missed the mandatory appointment after that SWAT shooting and if he doesn't report down to the nice shrinks, they're going to suspend him."

"Fuck me," Xander sighed, shaking his head.  "Can I fuck with their minds?"

"That would probably get you suspended and possibly put into a straight jacket," Mort said patiently.  "Just do it, Xander.  It's only the once.  Perhaps he'll say you have an aggression problem and take you off being on-call for SWAT."

"I'm only on-call for bombs," he said dryly.  "I don't mind that.  We're short a bomb person at the moment anyway."

"Yes, and if you get an arm blown off like he did, I'm going to be quite pissed," David assured him.

"You mean you're together?" the woman sneered.

Mort looked at her.  "David and Xander are both part of this lab, and yes, they're just back from their honeymoon.  They both were instrumental in keeping this lab going when we had manpower shortages and right now, Xander is my second-in-command."

"So that means quit with the sneering, little girl, it's not impressive," Xander said coolly.  He stared her down.  "Xander Harris, ballistics.  This is my husband, David Hodges, Trace.  You'll find I work with him as well since it's my minor."

"I've already introduced her to the rest of them," Mort offered calmly.  He pulled out The List and looked at it, then at the three page thickness of listings.  "Unfortunately, we do need to stop this and get to work.  Xander, when you get back, you've got a good mess of guns.  One of the other precincts raided a drug dealer/gun runner earlier today.  There were two shipping crates full.  We need them processed as soon as you can."  Xander sighed and nodded.  "Other than that, there's another six cases marked with ballistics evidence.  Possibly seven, one's not marked at all."

"Oh, great.  So I'll catch up by friday," Xander said dryly, staring at him.  "How long should I bullshit with the shrink for?"

"Usually it's a two-hour meeting, Xander.  That still gives you most of tonight to work."

"Sure.  David will make sure I don't stay over too late."

Mort looked at him.  "You have no overtime left for the rest of this year, Xander.  The new year starts in two months, you can have some more then."

"How did you do that?" the DNA tech asked.

"Easy, in one week we had the city enacting their age laws, we had two others quit due to injuries and going to teach, and then we had a detective who came down and shot some others," he told her.  "I pulled sixteen and twenty hour days there for nearly a month."  She looked horrified.  "I do get into the field as well," he said smugly.  "As a matter of fact, you missed the recent SWAT action that's getting me shrinked tonight.  I'm not on call for them that way but they got desperate and used me anyway.  By the way, Mort, paying me for that?  Hasn't shown up yet.  I don't do things like that for my health."

"Good point," he agreed.  "I'll call upstairs."  He made a note of that.  "David, it looks like you've got the worst set of cases coming.  Two abuse, three breaking and entering, and about ten domestics.  Plus a homicide."  He looked at him.  "I'm sorry."

"Not an issue.  I still have to clean my lab."  He nodded.  "I'll get to them as soon as I can once it's cleaned and that's fixed.  I can't do most of the little hair finding out here, there's the breeze from the doorway."

"I understand.  The repairmen are working upstairs right now supposedly.  You can go up and yell at Welsh if they're not done soon, and I'll take the cleaning supplies out of petty cash."  David nodded at that.  "Good boys."  He looked around.  "Fingerprints?"

"Four new ones today left from days, two already come in," he offered.

"Wonderful," Mort agreed. "Is the computer working yet?"

"Hell no," she snorted.  "The firewall around here is now gone.  Someone broke it.  I found that out earlier when I came in and found my computer backwashed with virus sendings.  I need to hit the computer office to chew them a new one."

"They're mostly on vacation at the moment," Mort told her.  "You may have to go down there and fix it."

"Done," she agreed.  "Route mine to one of the other two if they're in better shape than I am."

"Why wouldn't they be hampered too?" the new DNA tech asked.

"Because we're known to be the best and the most speedy," Xander told her.  "We work harder so we're not backed up.  We clear faster so we're not backed up, and our scene guys are usually out wandering so they're there faster.  Because of that, we have more precincts than the other two regions in the city.   We work with fifteen precincts.  Region three does twelve.  Region one does eight."  She looked stunned.  "Now, I'd think you'd go great over in Region one.  They're a bunch of higher class people and they mostly do the higher class neighborhoods.  They sneer at the little people crimes."  She shivered.  "Here, we get B&E's, we get domestics, we get a lot of child abuse, we also get a lot of homicides and gang activity.   You're not going to get a lot of swabs for things like 'I killed my daughter' but more like 'I killed my daughter for being pregnant and fucking up her life the way I did mine'."

"That's a direct quote from a few sources in the last month," David assured her.  "We also get handed the serial cases, the cases up at the college, and things like that.  You'll be doing a lot of rape kits."  She shivered again.  "Welcome to Region two.  Once my lab is clean, we're both across the hall."

"David, take mine for tonight if you have to," Xander offered.  "It's gonna be a while.  I'm going to be in the firing pen anyway."  He nodded, smiling at that. "Sarah?"  She barked from the other side of the door and Mort went to let her back in.  "Did you go outside?" he cooed, picking her up.  "Good girl."  He sniffed her.  "Ah, DA Meric is back.  She was hugging Sarah again, I can smell her perfume."

"Hell," the fingerprint tech muttered, looking at Mort.  "I'm going back to work.  Anything else?"

"Just be aware that Xander has a real stalker this time," Mort said patiently.  "We've yet to recapture her."

"Why does she want you?" David asked.

"She tried to use me to experiment on and I turned her down and turned her in," he said dryly.  "Citing the facts to her that being a future cop, as a CSI, I could not partake of experiments with drugs.   I also cited that I didn't need the memory enhancer, it wouldn't last long enough to help me in the labs or on tests.  She threw a fit and tried to stab me, I basically backhanded her and ran for my life to get a guard and ran into the head of the science department.  Our Chem and DNA teacher there got to look over her notes and started to find dead bodies from her earliest testing to find dosage strengths.  She also found one in a coma from an overdose of it right before a test.  She was at the 'one or two' stage testing."

Mort moaned.  "I know that they test dosages for effectiveness that way but that's criminal."

"Which is why she went to the mental farm that apparently has weak security," Xander said dryly.  "She and my ex Tanya, the stripper turned serial killer, were both in there when they escaped."

"They need better security," Mort agreed.  "Fine.  Please do not argue with any of us in public."

"She likes David, she made sure he makes me happy.  She apparently decided my playing with Stan was fine, she walked up to him and he reported it after trying to catch her.  Turnbull was most put out at her."  The door opened and he looked at the DA walking in.  "Hold on, Sherry, we're going over my old/new stalker."

"Wonderful.  Which club did you pick this one up at?"

"She was a former science major who was doing illegal testing for memory enhancing drugs on the student body at UCLA.  Tried for me, I turned her in," he said blandly.  "Since she's so worried about my happiness either she's going to be working to destroy it once she's got it figured out and a list made, or she's been talking with my other ex in there, who probably told her I was just in need of a lot of love and affection to heal me."

"Ah."  She nodded.  "I heard about that case.  Do you have anything on those guns yet?"

He snorted. "I barely just got in, woman."  She smirked at him.  "Besides, I managed to avoid my shrink date after that SWAT thing and now they're making me go or suspending me until I go.  So I've got to do that first."

"Hmm.  When do you think?"

"There were how many?" David asked.

"Two shipping cases full.  About sixty guns."  She gave Xander a hopeful look.  "Please?"

"Sure.  You're first on my list, Sherry.  Come back tomorrow, I should have it in list form but not report form."

"That's fine, I'll accept that this time, Xander," she promised, coming over to kiss him on the cheek and pet Sarah.  "Thank you, dear.  I'll hold off their deal until then."  She walked off, going back to talk to their lawyer and stall him.

Xander waited until she was long gone to wipe off the lipstick.  Then he looked at his very smug dog.  "No, I'm not having puppies with her, Sarah."

"No, no human puppies," David agreed firmly.  Xander smirked at him. "Thank you."

"Welcome."  Xander looked at Mort.  "Anything else?"

"Go, see the shrink, come back as soon as you can."  He nodded, heading to do that.  Sarah came back a few minutes later, dragging a ribbon from the main desk's potpourri basket. She liked it for some reason and always stole the ribbons.

David went upstairs to check on the status of the fixing, glaring at the wokman standing around.  "Why aren't you working? It's tainting evidence."  He snorted and wandered off.  "Welsh, they're over my lab table.  How much longer?"

"They said two days, David."  He came out of his office.  "Over your lab table?"

"Yeah, as in Sarah found a very interesting liquid spot on it."  Welsh shuddered.  "I can't process evidence until they're done.  Want Xander's bullwhip?"

"No, that's okay," he assured him.  "I'll get 'em as fast as I can.  Can you work around it?"

"Possibly.  Xander's offered me his table until he gets back."

"Where is he going?"

"That shrink appointment from hell."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "He won't be able to play with him, but he'll come back stressed.  Use the closet, keep the Mounties out of it tonight."  He went back to his office, leaving David standing there blushing.

"Okay then."  He went to talk to the workers himself.  "Guys, you're right over my Trace lab.  We've already gotten suspicious stains from this incident.  How long really?  You're holding up the evidence being processed and that means we'll have to let people go."

"You got cases we should worry about?"

David looked at him.  "Probably.  Does it matter?  I treat everything the same, from the lowest B&E to the worst of the serial and pedophiles.  Now, how long do I have to wait?  I've got to resanitize my lab thanks to this."

"Maybe a day and a half," one of the guys offered.  "It shouldn't be that hard.  Go ahead and put a bucket on that table as well, that way you don't get any more biological deposits."

David nodded.  "I shall.  Just go as quickly as you can, please.  There's delicate electronics down there."  He headed back down, walking in shaking his head.  "A day and a half they think."

"You'll work around it, David.  You're very brilliant and Xander will help when he's done," Mort soothed.

"Fine."  He went to find ways around the problems this was creating.  He'd have to or things wouldn't get done and he'd never get caught up.

***

Xander tapped on the office door.  "You yelled to see me?"

"Come in, Mr. Harris," the shrink said happily, smiling at him.  He was an older guy, had some silver hair, a slight paunch, was wearing a polo shirt and dress pants, his loafers up on the desk as he leaned back.  "I don't bite."

"I do."  He walked in and shut the door.  "I don't see why this is necessary."

"It's mandatory to make sure you don't go off the deep end and kill yourself."

"I haven't yet.  I've seen worse and I haven't yet."  He crossed his arms, staring him down.  "That's also why I take all the weapons after an officer involved shooting.  I know this drill.  I'm fine.  I have a husband who helped me that night.  It wasn't my first shooting and it wasn't my first time in combat."

"How?  You don't have a military record."

"Classified."

"Hmm.  Agent Ford said something like that as well when I talked to him."  He looked the boy over.  "I also know, son.  My brother's in Cleveland and he's had to deal with the merry band there."

Xander came in and sat down, getting comfortable.  "I used to work with Buffy, but I left when they didn't appreciate me."

"I can understand that.  Her methods are a bit extreme."

"They've worked in the past.  That's all that mattered to us then," Xander told him firmly.  "The same as now.  They work."

"I see."  He looked the boy over.  "Do you know the three hallmarks of a potential serial killer?"

"Yes, and I score fairly high on two of them," he admitted.  "Then again, most people with combat experience do."

"True, I do as well," he agreed.  "I was in two wars actually."  Xander nodded at that.  "So, how are you coping?"

"I've got a husband.  It was necessary.  Like all the other times I've had to pull.  I do pull faster, but I've lived in a state of paranoia due to my life being threatened.  I pull faster than most scared rookies do because I've been there.  I also know that if they're going to shoot, they're probably going to follow my lead if I'm there.  There's been more than one occasion when I've had to draw and fire and then the rookie fired after me."

"I see."  He stared at him.  "We've seen the same thing in most combat troops.  At least until they're more worn down by the action."

"I was there when I was seventeen," Xander said dryly.  "Then again, I'm also retired from that life.  I just live knowing that rookies don't always clear scenes, sometimes other citizens try to kill us too, and that rookies don't always react calmly.  I had one nearly shoot me when I came to a scene."

"Interesting.  Did you yell at him?"

"For nearly ten minutes, then I gave him a hug, told him to get into his squad, have a good cry, and come back when he was calmed down.  He gave me the oddest look."  He shrugged.  "I was raised by girls."

"That's fine as well.  Does your husband mind that?"

"He enjoys it sometimes and others he tries to make me more used to guy stuff.  Things like sports.  He came and cleaned my apartment after this tragedy of a bachelor auction during my internship because I had made face masques and things."  The shrink smiled at that.  "I'm good at it."

"I'm sure you are."  He looked the boy over again, then nodded once.  "You're dangerous."

"Not to the average person.  I don't even hunt that often."

"You do hunt the undead?"

"I have to hunt the undead now and then.  There's no one else in town to do that.  I have and am working on training Constable Turnbull to help me.   He offered one night while I was tired."

"Do you use that to take your aggression out on?"

"Now and then.  I'm still human."

"Point."  He stared the boy down.  "What happened that night after the invasion?"

"I went home, I talked with my mate, I typed out my report while in the tub being pampered.  David climbed in with me and held me.  I had some nightmares that he helped me with.   He helped me after I had to stake my mentor too, just not that personally."

"You did?"

"He showed up in Vegas and was threatening the people in my precinct there.  I had to."

"Ah."  He nodded.  "Very well then."  He put his feet down and leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk.  "Do you think you're dangerous?"

"No and I don't have the superiority complex that would mean I'd turn and start to hurt others.  I don't see them as little toys to be played with.  I never have.  I do know that my life has fucked me up beyond all hope of being normal.  I live with that.  I have guns, I have to use them now and then.  I use my knowledge with them to help others.  Consider me a ten year combat veteran who was in livid combat most of the time.  Sometimes in a command post."

"Your graduation?"

"I don't say anything about that.  The statue of limitations hasn't run out yet."

"Ah."  He smiled at him.  "At least you're not dancing around it."

"Hell no, but I'm still not saying anything other than yeah, I was there.  It was horrible.  People died."  He stared him down.  "I've been coping for a long time, the same as you have.  I don't need this.  You're taking me away from my cases and busting others who are worse.  I do use my skills when I have to.  I've had to defend myself at scenes, I've had to shoot at scenes, I've had to do serial cases before, and I do ballistics and bombs.  Go me, I'm talented and I use those skills."

"Still, it's not healthy to be this angry, Mr. Harris."

Xander snorted.  "I'm not usually.  It's just you."

The older man laughed.  "I can tell.  Are you angry with the department for demoting you?"

"They did?"

"Weren't you a cop before?"  Xander shook his head. "You weren't?"

"No, I went to school and came out a CSI.  I went right into the labs and the field rarely. I'm missing an eye, I can't do field work all the time and I don't want to.  There's something calming about guns.  Personally, from meeting a lot of us at the conventions, I'm probably in the more extreme third of us, but not the worst. There was one guy who had his own compound set up so he could become a radical agent of chaos.  His words."  The shrink smiled at that.  "I'm on firm mental footing and I have people who know all this and watch me, carefully in the case of my husband.  He's also the one who doesn't like me to hunt.  Which I appreciate.  So no, I'm fine.  I worked through these steps a long time ago.  Yeah, it was horrible, but nothing when compared to the scene at graduation.  Or my last battle in Sunnydale.  Or a few I got into in LA with Angel and them.  Like I said, vivid, constant combat with a side of command in the field."

"That's fine.  If you want, you can add me to that list of people who you can talk to."

"If I need someone more objective or I feel myself slipping over that careful edge, then I might," he offered, standing up.  "Otherwise, I've got it and I've got safety ropes.  Are we done?"

"Yes, Mr. Harris.  We're done.  I'll clear you to go back to work.  How often do you do field work?"

"When it's a massive case involving guns mostly.  That serial thing because it had been my case earlier in the day."  He shrugged.  "Maybe two a month to keep my hand in and my training current."

"That's fine," he promised with a small smile.  "Go ahead back to work.  I heard about the arms dealer earlier today and I'm sure you've got a lot to do."  Xander nodded.  "Go ahead."

"You're not spouting of details to the mayor, right?"

"No.  Not in the least.  I've talked to the few who do those sort of things here after other bad times.  I know and understand but what's said in here stays in here."  Xander nodded, leaving the office.  He calmed himself down and pulled over the file to make a note in it.  Xander had some strong aggression problems, but he appeared to be handling them and had a support system in place for the worst times.  He wasn't going to start hurting humans.  He didn't like to torture, maim, or destroy.  Except possibly explosions.  He got that feeling off the boy and put those notes into his personal records as well.  He wouldn't be seeing him unless he slipped and went crashing over the edge.  Or someone made him jump to save others.

***

Xander trotted back in, heading back to his lab.  "I'm back," he called as he jogged.  "Going to work now."

"Thank you," Mort called from autopsy.  "How did it go?"

"He knew about my past life.  He understood.  Reminded me that I can add him if I'm forced to slip off the edge and become an assassin for a good cause."  He walked into his lab and closed the door, stealing a kiss.  "Thank you for helping me that night."

"You're welcome."  He stole another kiss.  "Get to it, Xander.  I'll need your help the rest of this week to catch up."

"Sure."  He heaved the first box into the shooting pen, then a group of envelopes, tags, and his identification manual, just in case he needed it.  Then he brought his stapler, his tape, and two pens.  He smirked at David and closed the door, going to tag, shoot, then gather bullets.

David went back to work, only coming out when they heard the siren going off.  "What now?" he complained.  He went to pound on the door, getting Xander coming out with his work.  "What's that?"

"Not a clue."  They headed out together, him getting Sarah from his cubby.  She had been cowering in there.  They made it out into the parking lot and he watched as first Stan came screaming in and parked, getting out at a run, then Ray, who had been off that night.  "What's that?" he called to Stan.

"Bomb!" he called back, running inside.

Xander handed off his dog and kissed David, then headed for the doorway.  The head of SWAT had stopped Stan and Ray, and now was getting him.  "You know I can."

"I know, but I need you as backup.  In case we get another one while we're doing this, kid."  He stared him down.  "You okay?"

"I usually am."

"Good."  He looked at Ray.  "Go back to the parking lot.  Welsh has this case personally.  He's still in here.  He's the one who found the first device."

"What sort, just so I know?" Xander asked.  "We can do an external search and do the cars."

"Small.  Plastique, box for remote trigger."

"Done."  He went back to his people.  "Guys, there was an explosive device found inside," he said.  They all stared at him.  "Plastique, remote trigger box.  It's fairly small.  Small enough to put on cars as a diversion."

"I'll take Stan's and Ray's," David promised, heading that way.  He came back and patted down Xander's pockets, getting the keys to their cars.  The others were raiding the scene cases to get mirrors and things as well.

"I'm doing the external, left side," Xander told Mort.  "Tracy, I need someone to do right."  His fellow CSI yelled.  "Of the building."

"Coming."  He came back, handing Xander a pair of headphones.  "Here.  To block out distractions."

"Thanks.  Get someone to do the field too," he suggested, heading off for his side of the building.  Just in case.  He walked slowly and patiently, checking the clumps of gras that no one had trimmed in a few weeks.  It was making him nervous, but then again it had to be done.  He found something and squatted down to look at the box.  It was an overturned shoe box.  He pulled out a dental mirror and used the handle to dig a small depression on the side of the box, that way if there was a balance trigger it wouldn't tip it.  He wiggled the mirror inside, looking at the device.  "Found one," he called.  He got out of the way of the SWAT guy, letting him have the mirror. "It's got a balance trigger, it might also go off if you move the cover."

"Thanks, kid."

"Welcome.  Let me finish my side."  He went back to looking, frowning a bit at something.  "There's some putty around this window.  Was it fixed recently?"

"Not a clue.  Wires?"

"Can't tell."  Xander got down to look at it, then nodded.  "One wire, all the way through it.  Bare too."  He looked at him.  "I'll let you guys handle that."  He walked on, heading toward the fence that covered the trash pile.  "I can see another box next to the dumpster," he called.

"Damn it, who did this!" the SWAT guy shouted.  "Boss!  Need help!  He's spotted two, possibly three!"

"Hell and shitfire!" someone yelled.  "Two on the other side too."

The top guy in SWAT for the city came around to look at them.  "They're just like the others.  Where's the possible third?"  Xander came back and pointed at the window, letting him look at it.  "Not the same design or the same explosive.  Good work, Harris."

"Can I get a sample?" he asked, taking out a small baggie.  "Just for later evidence."

"Sure.  Got a filament camera too?"

"Down in the labs."  He got down to scrape some into the baggie, using his pocket knife.  "It's not dirty," he assured him.  He found a spot with a hair and pointed at it.  "I'm taking that too.  I'm trying not to hit the wire."  He carefully scraped until he could get the hair, bringing it out and putting it into the bag as well. "All yours."

"There's another hair," he offered, pointing at it.

Xander looked at it.  "Do we have any plastic tweezers?" he yelled.

"Yeah, coming," Tracy yelled.  He jogged around the corner, handing some over.  "What's that?"

"Probably someone else's idea," Xander said grimly, sticking that hair into the bag as well.  He handed them both off then got up with the help of the SWAT guy.  He looked at him.  "I don't know how to do these.  I can't figure out a way past the bar."

"There's no really anyway to do these but to pick them up and make sure they don't tip.  Like you would a pizza from the oven."

"Can you cover them with a box?" the other guy asked.  "That's how we usually do them, then let the CSI guys pick up the pieces from under it."

"Works for us usually," Tracy agreed.

"Let me get some containment boxes," the boss ordered, heading to make that call.  "Harris, go get that filament camera."

"Yes, sir."  He headed inside, past the guard.  "I'm going to storage down in CSI, in the back closet.  Unless it got moved."  He got a nod and headed that way, going to grab the small filament camera and receiver unit.  He found the phone ringing and picked up the nearest tape recorder to use on it.  "Yeah?" he answered.  He turned on the recorder.  "No, this is CSI Harris.  What did you want?  What are your demands."  He listened, then slowly sat down.  "Sure.  Yeah.  Thank you.  Anything else?"  He hung up and turned off the recorder, bringing it with him.  He found the cameras and brought them out, then went to his desk to get something.  He came out and found his dog waiting on him so tucked her down his shirt and hurried back.  "We got a call," he said as he exited.  "I recorded it."

"Why did you stop to answer the phone?" one of the SWAT guys asked.

"Who would be calling CSI?" Xander countered.  "Any one of us whose down there would have had them routed to our cells.  It was the main number in the main room.  That's the published number in the directory."  He handed the head of SWAT his recorder.  "Right next to my mouth, sorry."

"Not an issue, Harris.  Thank you.  Next time please don't be that brave."  He looked at the dog.  "Hello, Sarah.  Followed?"  He nodded.  "Go put her in the car."  He took the gear, looking at the last thing Xander had picked up.  "What's that?"

"Personal."  He put it and Sarah into the car, then closed them in there.  "Dave, she's in your car, along with my special case."  He kissed him gently.  Then he started to look around.  "Vecchio?" he called.  "Come on, we've got to head!"  Everyone stared at him.  "Did we check the Riv?"  David nodded.  "Was it good?"  He shook his head.  "I know."  He found Ray complaining and drug him to his car.  "Come on!  If they got your car at your mother's house, where else did they get!"  Ray hurried and Xander got in to drive, heading off with his lights and siren on.  "They did call.  They did say that Frannie was in danger."

"Maria and Tony took the kids and Ma out for pizza at Chucky's," he admitted.  "Frannie...."  He started to call the house and Xander stopped him.  "I've got to warn her."

"Ray, if it's got a remote like the others, it can be set off by cellphone.  Call the main house."

"Fine."  He redialed, getting Frannie.  "Get out.  Get out now.  There was a bomb on the Riv.  There were multiple ones at the station.  Get out, wait for me in the street.  If they're back, take them and the emergency bags.  I don't care, do it now!" he ordered. He hung up.  "Can't we go faster?"

"Sure, you go direct traffic and I'll go faster," he agreed dryly.  He shot him a grin and ducked down an alley, coming out the other side and onto a less crowded street.  "Two blocks east now right?"

"Yeah.  Turn now."  Xander turned, making others squeal their brakes.  "Go straight then right one block later."  Xander nodded, speeding up even more when he saw the lights go on behind him.  He turned onto Ray's street and saw Frannie outside with one of the kids.  "They didn't take the baby?"

"I don't know," he said, getting out once the kid had parked.  "Frannie, where are they?"

"Still there, but he's fussy so I offered to babysit."  She pointed at the house.  "I didn't see anything."

"There was a bomb on the Riv," Xander said as he got out, heading to do a walk around.  "Ray, with me.  They've had rocker bars so far.  The least touch can set them off."

"Fine."  He looked at Frannie, then at the officer.  "Get my sister into your car, back off a few houses.  Only SWAT comes unless it explodes.  There was a bomb on my car and a few at the twenty-seventh."

"Yes, sir."  He walked Frannie to his car, getting her and the baby inside and backing them up a few houses.  He watched as they walked around the side of the house.  "What's going on?"

"Ray didn't tell me.  That's CSI Harris though."

"He does bombs?"

She looked at him and nodded.  "Yeah, he's good with 'em.  Ma'll never forgive him if the house explodes, but he's good with them."  She rolled down her window when Ray came back.  "No one stopped by today, Ray.  No one visited and no repairmen."

"That's fine.  Xander found it.  It's by the furnace."   He grimaced.  "I want you to take my phone, call Chucky's.  Tell Ma and them to stay there until closing.  By then we'll either have it solved or we'll be in a hotel tonight."  He handed over his phone.

"What's going on!" she demanded.

"We got a threat, Frannie.  Us and the precinct.  I don't know why.  Just do it.  Where's the carseat carrier thingy?"

"Inside.  Right by the front door.  I didn't even think to grab it or the diaper bag."

"I'll get it with Xander.  You stay here and call."  He went to find Xander, who was going on with his search.  "Can I head inside?"

"Not yet.  Give me ten more."  He continued his search.  Ray had cut his grass recently so it was good.  He could see the other one.  "Ray.  We've got a second one, on this window.  Just like the others."  He walked off, heading inside with him after checking the door.  Ray grabbed those things and carried them out, Xander was doing a general stroll through the house.  He knew if anything was out of place.  "Ray, when did Ma move that red vase?" he called.

"Last week.  It nearly broke when Tony Junior crawled into it."  He came back, looking at it.  "That's where it's supposed to be."  They continued on, heading into the kitchen.

Xander found another one in there and winced, glancing at it.  "Out.  Now.  Go to your room, get anything that you'll need, like insurance stuff."  Ray headed for the office.  Xander backed away slowly.  Ray came out of the office, headed upstairs, and came back with the emergency bags and one for himself.  "Good.  You can have our couch if you need it and the others can stay with us for a few days if David agrees."  They continued out and Xander left the door open.  Once back at his car, he called dispatch.  "This is CSI Harris.  I'm at Detective Vecchio's home.  Tell the head of SWAT at the twenty-seventh that the secondary bomb was repeated here and the primary one.  They are togther.  There are two external rocker bombs here, one window bomb, and one inside in a cabinet.  I repeat, four bombs present in this house."

"I copy and have passed on the message.  He said to wait and do not touch."

"Not a problem," he replied.  "House has been cleared.  Should I clear the neighbors?"

"Affirmative.  Two houses, either side," she replied.

"Good enough.  Going to do that now."  He hung up his radio.  "Ray, we're clearing two neighbors on either side.  Make sure none of them run through your yard."  He went to the left side, knocking and showing his ID.  "CSI, ma'am.  There's been some problems at the Vecchio household and we need to clear you and your immediate neighbors out now."  She gaped.  "Right now, ma'am.  There was a bomb threat made.  I need you to take your family, your pets, and head out for at least two hours so we can deal with this."

"Ray!" she yelled.

"Go, now," he yelled. "Stay out of our yard!"

"Fine.  Two hours?"

"God I hope so," he said seriously.  She nodded, going to do that.  He went to the next house over, tapping over there.  "Sir, CSI Harris."

"I've seen you.  What's happened?  An escapee?"

"Bomb threat.  I need you to clear out for two hours, sir, just in case.  Take your pets with you."

"Yes, son."   He went to gather his dog and head out.  He stopped to chat with Frannie.  "You'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine.  Xander can put us up if he has to."  He smiled and nodded, heading out.  "God, Ma's gonna be pissed."

"Not as pissed as CSI Harris looks," the officer offered.  "Ma'am, should I take you to his house?"

"Not until Ray orders."

"Yes, ma'am."  He got out and looked at the detective.  "Sir, should I remove your sister to CSI Harris' house?"

Xander looked at him.  "No.  You can take the baby, but not her.  They mentioned her by name."

"What!"

"They said you were in danger, Frannie.  I want you away from the family, just in case."

"Fine.  Someone take the baby then," she ordered.

"Sure.  Ray?"  Ray came to grab the baby and Frannie got out.  Xander motioned her over.  "Come here, let's look you over.  Nothing too personal, even if I do pat you down."  She nodded, letting him look at her earrings.  "New?"

"Yeah, I bought 'em yesterday."  She took them off and her bracelet, letting him look at them.  Then she got them back.  He checked behind her ears.  "I would have noticed someone darting me."

"Not necessarily.  I haven't in the past."  He moved to pat her down then took her to his car, which had the geiger counter in it.  He checked her over, then nodded.  "Okay, I don't see anything."

"I still don't wanna be near Ma and them," she assured him.

"Good.  Then I want you to go walk to my house.  If you feel the least bit strange, get away from people.  You probably won't explode that greatly."  He grinned at her.  "As far as I can tell you won't at all."

"Sure.  Your house?"  He handed over his house keys, they separated from his car keys.  "Fine, I'll be in the garage."

"Good idea.  The bathroom's working out there again too."  She smiled and hugged Ray, then left.  He looked at Ray.  "She's heading to my place to hide in the garage. There's a working bathroom."

"Good.  Was she hit with something?"

"Not that I can tell.  I'm not taking that chance until I know though," he promised.  He put the machine back and took the baby to hold, calming him down again.  "Hey, baby boy.  Did you want to come visit the unclies this week?" he cooed, rubbing noses with him.  "You're such a good boy."  The baby beamed and patted him on the face.  "Yes, a good boy, Mark.  Ray, go ahead and put him into my car, you can sit in there and watch him."  He handed the baby back as the SWAT truck rolled up the street.  "Go."  He nodded, sitting in the car with the baby for now.  Xander handed over the car keys and went to meet them.  "There's one in a kitchen cabinet that's slightly open.  There's one tucked behind the furnace.  There's one on the window, like at the station, and there's another box one near it."  He led them on to look at them, then led someone inside to look at that bomb.  Then he left, he wasn't needed.  He went to wait with Ray, leaning against the side of the car.  "It'll be fine."

"I'm sure it will be, but I'm gonna kill someone," Ray promised.  Stan drove up and he got out, handing over the baby and the bag.  "Here, take him to Ma.  They should still be at Chucky's."

"No," Stan said, getting out.  "Benny, take him and go."

"Yes, Stan."  He buckled the carrier in and shifted over to drive, heading off to where the family liked to go for birthdays and treats.  They were still there when he walked inside, handing over the baby and the bag.  "What's going on?"

"We got a bomb threat," Maria said quietly.  "Frannie?"

"I didn't see her, Maria.  I'll ask.  Xander was there with Ray."

"That's fine, we trust Xander to protect what's ours," she agreed, heading back to the group.

Benny left, going back to the scene.  The cops tried to stop him but he rolled down the window.  "This is Detective Kowalski's car.  I was delivering the youngest Vecchio child to his mother."

"Let him in," Xander called.  "We already cleared his car."  The cop let him in and he looked at Benny.  "Frannie's fine," he said at the opening mouth.  "I already checked her over and sent her to my garage."

"Thank you.  They had wondered."

Xander grinned at him.  "If we can't clear it in a reasonable amount of time, I'm sure David wouldn't mind if they came to stay with us."

"You do have a defensible house," Ray admitted. "Plus more guns if needed."

"True," Xander agreed, looking at the guys coming out with the bomb from the cabinet.  "That's a skill I'm impressed with," he said happily.  The other two were brought away in containment cases and the window's putty was removed, along with the window.  Then CSI field techs got to go over everything there.  "I opened the door," Xander called.  "Mine and David's prints should be all over too."

"Sure, Xander.  Thank you.  What about the back door?" one yelled.

"Nope.  Not for at least two days."

"Sure."

Xander looked at Ray.  "At least the house is still standing."

"True.  Not that I'm gonna feel easy in it for a bit."

"If we could figure out who it was, it'd be easier," Xander offered.  "I taped it but it was really close to my mouth."

"I'm sure the AV guy can fix that," he promised.  He watched SWAT work, then called David.  "Xander said we could shack up with you two tonight. You mind?"  He smiled.  "Thanks.  No, Frannie's in your garage.  Ma and everyone else is at the pizza place.  Chucky's.  Yeah, thanks.  Nah, I'll be in tonight. The Mounties can guard for now."  He hung up and looked at Xander.  "He said it was fine."

"Sure.  Let the kids sleep in the tower room.  It's nice and it'll be cool for them.  That'll give you a room, them a room, and Ma a room."

"Thanks, Xander."  He went to pick up his family in Xander's car, he could get a ride back.

Xander grabbed some gloves and went to get sucked in.  He knew what was out of place in the house.

***

Xander made it back with the boxes of evidence, finding the FBI standing around waiting on him.  "Hola."  He looked at Ford.  "Thanks for narking to the shrink so I didn't have to take him down there."  He walked downstairs, putting everything on the table.  Then he got some magic markers and wrote on it 'vecchio household evidence'.  He looked at everyone.  "Yeah, there were four at Ray's house.  Mostly trace.  There's some fingerprints too."  They grabbed stuff and went to work, David was still in his lab so he was SOL until he was done.  He turned at the footstep.  "Guys, go to AV, see if you can identify the voice.  Unless you already know?"

"Not a clue," Ford admitted.  "Vecchio all right?"

"Pissed.  Very pissed and around here somewhere," Xander offered.  He went into AV himself, listening to the output the guy started.  "That sounds off."

"I had to remove your breathing."

"His voice was deeper, like it echoed."

"Okay, let me put back your breathing."  The quiet breathing came back and Xander nodded.  "That's it?"  He nodded.  "Good job."

"I figured it had to be.  Who else would call the main number while we were evacuated?  Everyone else we knew would have called cells."  He looked at the agents.  "Know him?"

"Yeah, he's a former agent," Ford admitted.  "He used to work in the local office.  Vecchio busted a case a few years back that implicated him as being dirty.  He was cleared when they found out he was being framed but his reputation was gone."

Xander nodded. "I've seen it happen.  I'm going to work on those arms again.  I'll be in the firing pen."  The AV guy nodded and he left them there.

"CSI Harris, we need to ask you a few questions," Ford said formally a few minutes later from the doorway.

Xander came out of the firing pen, marking his last test fire and putting it aside.  "Sure.  Office, main table?  Where?"

"Main table's fine."  He walked him that way, sitting down with a tape recorder and a notepad.  "All right.  Walk me through what happened."

Xander cleared his throat and got up to get his soda, then came back.  "Sorry, dry throat."

"Not a problem.  I have those too."  He stared at him.  "What happened?  From the time you walked in tonight."

"All right.  We took separate cars in tonight.  David had to stop to pick up his dry cleaning and I had to drop some videos off on the way in," he told him.

"That couldn't be accomplished together?"

"Different directions.  We go to the video store on tenth, the dry cleaner's up on West Racine."

"Ah."  He nodded, that was a good bit apart.  "Go on."  He looked down as the dog came out and hopped into Xander's lap, getting cuddles.  "There's a dog in the lab?"

"My dog.  She's well trained for the lab.  Always has been.  Everyone knows she's here.  She even gave birth under the mass spec in DNA."

"Oh.  That's good I suppose.  I'm sure you're aware of any contamination." Xander smiled and nodded.  "That's fine, go on."

"Okay.  I got here with Sarah, the dog, about ten minutes before start of shift, I talked to a few coworkers, told them David was running a few minutes late.  When he got here, we started the shift meeting, I found out I had a hell of a lot of firearms waiting on me and that I hadn't managed to avoid the shrink after that SWAT action, that I had to go tonight or be suspended.  I went there, talked to him for a bit, came back just under an hour later.  We understood each other and I'm not the one he's got to worry about going over the edge.   I came back here, David was using my lab because Trace is suffering from an overhead pipe leakage from the men's toilet upstairs, and I went into the firing pen to work on those guns that were confiscated earlier today.  During the meeting I did talk to DA Sherry Meric.  She wanted to know about my present stalker and when I could get the facts on those guns to her.  I told her by tomorrow, which I'm hopefully still going to be able to keep.  I was back in the firing pen when the alarm started to go off.  I finished up my last sample tagging and left with David, who had just covered and bagged what he was working on.  We were the next-to-last out of here, Mort was making sure we all got out.  I headed up there, where I learned what was going on.  I organized my fellows here to start an exterior and car search, just in case.  I took left side of the building and found a bomb."

"The first bomb?"

"No, CSI Tracy found a bomb before I did.  He found one, I found one, I waited for one of the SWAT people to come look at it after carefully inserting a mirror to check the specifics of the bomb.  It had a rocker switch, a balance bar to tell it if the box over it was tipped and set it off if it was, and I wasn't sure I could handle that.  So I left him looking at that through the dental mirror I had used to look inside, found the one on the window, which was in...."  He considered it.  "Holding probably.  Probably the drunk tank if I'm not mistaken."

"It was.  It's already been removed."

Xander nodded.  "I pointed out that it was a bomb too, I thought, since the putty looked like plastic explosives to me.  I continued on with my search after alerting to that one, and found one last one next to the dumpster out back."  He took a drink, thinking hard.  "I came back to the window one.  Usually bombers use a single signature so I was assuming at that time that they were unrelated.  I used my pocket knife to take a small sample.  I found a hair and plucked that off too.  I did tell the officer what I was doing before I did so, just in case.  The head of SWAT was there by then.  He pointed out the second hair but it was right overtop of the wire so I didn't dare use my pocket knife and I knew I couldn't pluck it out unbroken with my fingers, so I called for some plastic tweezers.  Tracy brought them, I plucked it, put it into the same evidence bag as the other hair and the sample, then headed off when the head of SWAT said he needed a micro filament camera.

"I came down to get ours and something from my desk and I found the phone ringing.  Logically speaking it was out of place.  Any one of us here would have told our family and friends to call our cells.  Not the phone out here in the main room.  At most, probably Mort's desk if they had to have an office number.  Since it was this one, the published one, I did pick up a recorder and answer the phone.  It wasn't anyone I knew and he asked for me by name so I recorded it.  Once I had hung up, I got the gear, I took it and the recorder upstairs.  I handed off the recorder and gear then went to find Detective Vecchio since he had been mentioned in the threat.  I took off with the detective for his house.  His sister was waiting outside with their nephew, as per his phoned orders on the way there.  We had been followed for traffic violations by a patrol officer.  We had him take Francesca Vecchio into his car and move her and the baby further back while I did a house search with Detective Vecchio.  We did the external first, just in case the door or something was wired.  I found one on the left, two on the right, including another windowpane bomb, then went inside with him.  I found one in the cabinet, instructed Ray to get his insurance stuff from the office since it didn't appear to have a timer, and he grabbed their emergency bags as well.

"I called it in, I checked over Frannie Vecchio to see if she had been implanted or touched somehow.  I didn't find anything, up to and including radiation since I had a geiger counter with me, and sent her to my garage.  It was safer, she was walking but I did tell her if she felt any oddness at all to get away from people.  I needed the patrol officer there and I decided she wasn't going to be harmed and that nothing had in fact happened to her.  We kept the baby, just in case, and Ray sat down to keep his nephew calm in my car.  We cleared the houses off to the side, two on each side per orders from Dispatch, and waited.  SWAT came, I showed them the bombs I had found, let them handle them while I waited and Constable Fraser went to take the child back to his mother, who was out with the other children and Detective Vecchio's mother at a local pizza place.  Ray left to come back here and help with his car so I went to work on the scene since I know that house very well, then I came back here to be ambushed."

Ford smirked at him.  "Good.  You say you were the last one out of this office?"

"Next to last with my husband.  Mort was behind us to make sure we all left.  As far as I know."

"Why did you take charge outside?"

"I'm used to it," Xander said dryly.  "Mort was staring, I figured we'd better look anyway, before something else happened.  We did have the field techs there.  I ordered a car and the exterior searched, just in case.  It'd be a fine diversion to blow up a car to allow the bomber to get away.  I like redundant backups and doing everything so every base is covered."

"I see.  That's probably an asset in your fields, CSI Harris."  He considered it.  "Was that chronological?"

"Pretty much.  Things kinda got lumped in there together.  I may have gotten the order wrong.  I'm not sure when Benny took off with the baby but I know it was after Kowalski got there and after SWAT got there.  Kowalski got there after SWAT and I remember he was gone when they were bringing the bombs out.  I think he got back about that same time actually."

"That's fine.  It's a good job, CSI Harris.  Thank you.  Now, about this threat?"

"Once they put my breathing back, the voice was the same as when I heard it.  The recorder was right next to my mouth and I did warn about that up front.  I don't recognize the voice."

"We do, so don't worry about it.  I will be handing that file to Lieutenant Welsh later.  Are you fearless?"

"No, I'm a bit numb though," he offered with a small smirk.  "I'm not unused to desperate situations and having to take charge, Agent Ford.  You know that. Maybe that's why I like all my bases covered."

"That's fine."  He stood up and turned off the tape recorder.  "I looked at the reports from your graduation.  Whoever planned it did a good job in that assault."

"Thank you."

Ford smirked.  "Gonna pass that back?"  Xander nodded. "Was it you?"

"I'm not saying a thing about that incident until the statue of limitations runs out."

"Good idea, kid.  Very good idea.  Fine.  Thank you for your help.  Are you thinking more than one bomber?"

"Bombers like signatures.  It's like serial cases will almost always be the same ritual.  Bombers have their own rituals while creating it.  It's the same feeling of 'this is the right way' that serial killers have during their kills.  That's why you don't see many that change patterns.  I've learned this watching the Profiler fans come in pretending to be profilers."  He snickered at that.  "Seriously.  Anyway, for a bomber to switch methods like that?  Yeah, I'm guessing different bombers.  It can't be a coincidence that we've got both types of bombs at both sites.  I did tell Dispatch to tell the guys in SWAT that as well."

"She did.  I was here by then and I saw the message.  Good work.  Very good work."

"I live to serve and Ray is like my family.  Any news on my present stalker?"

"Can she do bombs?"

"No, but I'm not sure if Tanya had a talk with her to make her see I only needed love to be healed and so she's making sure I have it, or if she's making a list of people to hurt."

"I'll ask.  Who has that case?"

"Meric was asking about it earlier.  You might ask her."

"Thank you."  He walked off.

Xander sat there, sipping his soda quietly, staring at the door and petting his poor baby.  He finally looked down at her.  "You'll get to play with the kids tonight, Sarah."  She barked and wagged her tail, seeming to smile at him.  "Yeah, let's get you home."  He went upstairs, into the chaos.  "Stan?"  He looked back at him. "Who's cruising by my house next time?"

"I am," Dewey called.  "Why?"

"Take Sarah back so she can keep the kids entertained."  He handed her over and she licked the nice detective who gave her pepperoni.  "You could probably tell Frannie she doesn't have to sleep in the garage either if she's still clear."

"Sure.  I'll be heading that way in about ten minutes.  You got stuff?"

"It's mostly trace and a few fingerprints.  David's got stuff. I've got the arms from earlier."  He gave him a wry grin.  "I'll be down in the firing pen, so just call my office if something's up.  David's working in there."

"Sure."

Xander headed back down to get to work, stopping to get a kiss.  "I told Ray to have the kids sleep in the tower room together.  Then the others could have the other rooms.  Dewey will tell Frannie she doesn't have to sleep in the garage."   David smiled and Xander went back to work.

David shook his head.  "At least we have the extra space," he decided.  "It's a good thing and we can close our door tonight."  He looked over as Stan came in, pointing at the firing pen.  He looked confused.  "Xander?"

"No, you," he said, staring at him.  "Got anything yet?"

"Not a bit but I heard the FBI people identified the voice."

"Ooooh," Stan said happily, rubbing his hands together.  "Good enough.  Are we stayin' with you guys tonight to make sure nothin' happens?"

"We'll only have the one room with the twin beds," David told him.  "Unless you want a couch."

"We'll head home with you and figure it out then," he decided.  "How is Xander doin' on all those guns?"

"I've halfway through the first case," Xander called.  "I've already called Sherry and told her what happened."  He stuck his head out.  "Are we being paranoid?"  Stan nodded.  "Then we'll see when we get there.  Personally I'm hoping someone cooked.  I won't have time for dinner tonight.  So someone grab me a granola bar when they run out for something."  He grinned at David.  "I'll eat later."

"Yes, you will."

"Yes, dear."  He went back to his firing and marking.

Stan chuckled.  "Got the tight leash tonight?"

"Hell yes, he went off without telling anyone," he muttered.

"Dammmmmnnnn," Xander said in awe.  ".308 sniper rifle."  He came out with it, showing it off.  "These are really pretty."

"No, Xander."

"But, David...."

"No, no adding to the guns at this point in time," he said firmly, staring him down.  "Besides, you need to get more bullets first.  You're running out."

"I'll get some before coming home.  I can get them at Walmart."

"Sure."  David watched him stroke the gun and shook his head, rolling his eyes.  "Maybe for our next anniversary."

"I love you," Xander said happily, kissing him hard and fast before going back to work.  He had to come out for some bullets, but he was fine.

"Freak," Stan laughed.

"Yes, but they make him happy," David said dryly.  "Plus it's good for his job."

"Yeah, maybe, but someday you'll have to turn a spare room into a gun locker."

"No, we've got one of those already, it's in Xander's office," he said dryly.  "It's called the closet."

Stan chuckled at that and headed off, going back upstairs.  When orders went around for dinner, he got Xander a sandwich and even paid for it.  He looked over at Ray as he started to yell that he wasn't going home yet, shaking his head.  "Ray, we're heading back with Dave and Xan tonight.  Go home, make sure the place is secure, then we'll be home in a few hours.  Got it?"  Ray glared at him.  "Seriously.  Oh, Xander said he needed to pick up more bullets at Walmart tonight."

"Sure.  Where's his gun locker?"

"His office closet."

"Sure.  Anything good on that gun runner?"

"Yeah, he's probably through with the test fires on the first case.  He's doing all those first."

"Smart of him," Welsh admitted.  "See, go to Xander's.  Go make sure everyone's fine.  Take over guard duties.  When Xander and David go home, I'll send them with Kowalski and the Mounties so you can get some sleep.  That way you can come to work tomorrow too."  Ray said something in Italian but stomped off.  Welsh sighed and rolled his eyes.  "I'm sure it'll be fine," he told himself.

"It should be," Dewey agreed.  "Xander's got good security.  They've got the spare room for a few days if necessary."  He sat up straight.  "What I'm wondering is why *that* window?  Why not another window, why that specific one?  The other things were symmetrical except for that window.  Could that give us a clue?"

"We've looked in the bomb database and no," Ford told him.  "Nice thinking though.  What about structurally?"  Everyone looked clueless.  "Who would we ask?"

"Xander," Huey said.  "He worked construction."

"He's the one who figured out that the rooms weren't right on our map during that assault too," Ford admitted.  "What's the number?"

"Harris!" Welsh yelled.  "Get up here!"

"Coming," floated over from the bathroom.

"They're fixing the leak in the floor between his lab and the bathroom," Huey said smugly.  "Much faster."

Xander came trotting up the stairs.  "Did we know there was a .308 in that bunch of guns?"  Huey shook his head.  "There was.  It's a very pretty Bravo 51 too," he told him.  He beamed.  "David said I could have one for our next anniversary."

"You're weird, kid," Welsh said dryly.  "Figure out why *that* window."

Xander looked at him.  "Because if you take out that window, it would have taken out a good chunk of that wall, which would have weakened it.  It would have given an alternate exit over the more difficult fence and into the street.  Doing it on the other side would have put you into the field, which doesn't have as easy of an exit; you'd have to run farther in the open to get to the street, and you can't park closely on that side without getting a ticket.  You can park not ten feet away from that other fence on this side, which meant a fifteen second run in the open to get to a car.  Which I checked, there wasn't any there at that time."

Ford looked at him.  "Wow."

Xander smirked.  "Elementary tactical maneuvers handbook, US Army.  Ask me sometime how I saw that."  He looked at Welsh again.  "Why *that* window on the Vecchio household?"  He thought about the house.  "That would have collapsed the stronger outer wall, which was holding up the outside of most of the bedrooms.  This is evening time.  If they had been in their rooms, it probably would have killed them and only smashed in the living or dining room in the next house on that side.  Maybe a bedroom on the second floor but most likely a living room or a dining room by the way their house is oriented.  Most bang and kill ratio for the buck in that house's case. The others were meant to take out the majority of the structure so it'd mostly collapse when they went off, thereby hiding the evidence and lowering the chance of rescuing living people."  He controlled his anger at this idiot, because he would be facing him down eventually.

"What about on your house?" Huey asked dryly.

"Personally?  I'd take out the tower.  It's an architectural element that has weight bearing capabilities but would disrupt the house.  Also the shape of the room would focus the heat and backdraft of the blast down the hall.  It's also the easiest to get to since our security company didn't adequately fill in that hole with more than a camera.  The rest of the house is sealed pretty tight if they notice the security system.  Even the garage.  The only other thing they could easily get to is that big tree in the corner of the back yard.  That they could get from the neighbor's yard and make it fall on the house.  But it wouldn't do too much damage at that distance.  Why?  Did he call back and threaten my house?"

"No, not yet," Huey admitted.  "Just asking to keep it in mind."

"Sure.  I'll be doing a perimeter sweep anyway when I get home.  I'm paranoid like that.  Oh, Welsh, the shrink understood me.  Apparently Agent Ford and his family in Cleveland clued him in.  He decided I'm sublimating it nicely and I'm not really dangerous.  I just have anger and aggression problems from his questioning."  He shrugged.  "Anything else?"  They all shook their heads.  "Then I'm nearly done with the test fires on that first case.  I've got to get back to it or Sherry will skin me."  He went back to work, then came back to get a new soda before going back to the firing pen.

Welsh waited until he was gone a second time, then shook his head.  "That boy was the best investment we've ever made."  Everyone nodded at that.  "He even got a raise this year.  All he wants is not to be recognized by the mayor."

"He doesn't want recognized and awarded for saving lives?" Agent Ford asked.

Welsh shook his head.  "Said he didn't need it.  That's not why he did the job.  He didn't get awarded for doing it when he was younger, why break that pattern now and give him an ego problem."  He smirked at him.  "Any other questions, Huey?  Or Dewey?  Or even you, Kowalski?"

"Yeah, if we've got a clue about who it is, how soon before we go raid the hurtin' little freak?" Stan asked bitterly.  "I don't wanna be blown up today, I've got a date tomorrow night."

"We're tracing his location now," Ford offered.  "If we can find him, hopefully by late tonight."

"Is he on pension or Social Security?" Huey asked.

"Yeah, on SSI and disability," Ford offered.  "Why?"

"Call and ask them where his checks are going.  He's got to be getting them."

"Good idea."  He went to do that, going through his local office to get that information.  They could pull strings and get it from the main branch.

***

Xander came out of the lab when David yelped his name, looking at the person in the doorway.  "Hey, Tanya.  How did you get out?"

"Sucky security.  I learned a lot watching you, Xander."  She walked inside.  "How are you?"

"Fine.  You?"

"Better now that I've had some medication and a lot of time to think.  Does he make you happy?"

"Very.  If you hurt him, I'd have to go off and kill you."  She pouted.  "Tough.  Even Anya approves of him.  Called him a cute little rabid bunny."

"I thought she was terrified of bunnies."

"She was working on her phobia and that just means she thinks he's scary."  He stared at her.  "So, why the visit?  You know I'm gonna have to arrest you."

"I just wanted to check on you, dear."

"Were the bombs her?" David demanded.

"Bombs?"

"Someone tried to bomb the station and Vecchio's house."

"Poo, those meanies deserve however much beating Ray gives them. I'm sure he's quite capable from what I've seen," she said firmly, smiling at him.  "How are you?"

"Happy.  Content. I love my job.  Oh, hey, Mort, this is Tanya.  Tanya, this is my boss, Mort.  He's a nice guy.  When I was doing murderous overtime he sent me home and let me nap on his office couch a few times."

"We appreciate and like you too much to lose you to a stroke or a heart attack, Xander," he said gently, smiling at him.  "Nice to meet you, Tanya.  I need to do a review with David. It's time for his first year review.  Would you excuse us?  I have the forms in my office."

"Oh, sure," she agreed, smiling at him.

"Nice meeting his ex," David said, shaking her hand.  "Don't worry, I not only respect Xander, but I do love him enough to put up with his oddities and try to help him overcome his thoughts of football being like gay sex."  She giggled and let him go and he walked out with Mort.  "It's already been a year?"

"Nearly.  Another month.  I have to have them done before then to get you your raises.  I did Xander's about two months ago."  They closed themselves in their office and David called upstairs.

"Stanley, why is his ex, the serial killer, down here chatting with him?  No, she said she learned a lot about security watching him."  He hung up and looked at Mort.  "So, how am I looking?" he asked brightly.

"Fairly decent.  You aren't worried?"

"Not really.  Stan's still up there.  He'll handle it.  Xander can handle her."

***

Stan hung up his phone and stood up, waving his arms.  "Guys!"  They all looked at him.  "Why is Xan's ex Tanya downstairs?"

"The serial killer?" Ford yelped.  Stan nodded.  "Mother fucking hell!  Move, people!  She's an escaped serial killer!"  They all hopped up and went running down there, going to capture her.  She was sitting in Xander's desk chair, smiling and laughing at something he had just said.  Ford grabbed her and walked her off.  "Xander, aren't you nearly ready to go home?"

"Nearly.  I've only got ten more to do test fires on.  Then I get to run them through the system."  He waved.  "Bye, Tanya.  If you behave, they might let you go soon."  She smiled back at him and waved, beaming happily like this was nothing to her.

Stan frowned at him.  "You dated someone that stupid?" he hissed.

"She was a stripper, Stan.  Her brains aren't why I dated her," he hissed back.  Stan snickered at that and gave his head a shove. "Yeah, those were the days when I was a freak, but she was sweet and she could cook and I got into the club for free."  He went back to work, shaking his head.  "Tell David it's safe now."

"He called us," he offered, heading back to the office.  He tapped and leaned in.  "It's safe, we've got her.  She was giggling at something Xander said."

"She didn't seem too bright," David agreed.

"He said she was a stripper, he didn't date her for brains," Stan shared with a smirk.  "She could cook, that's why he dated her."  David snickered at that, shaking his head.  "So we're heading back upstairs.  Don't let him work too long over, we're leaving with you two."

"Sure.  The more the merrier but you cook for yourself if Ma doesn't."  He looked at Mort again, looking at his evaluation forms.  "I only got a two for playing nicely?"

"David, you've scared two of the interns and rode another one until she changed fields and her major.  You don't play well with others.  It's an improvement from when you came in however and we're not known for playing nicely here.  Detective Vecchio only gets a one each year.  It won't stop your raise."

David smiled. "Good, then we can pay off the mortgage faster."

Stan walked off shaking his head.  "I wanna know how Xan infects people so they start turning into him," he told Dewey as he passed him.

"Huh?"

"David went up on the 'nicely plays with others' scale.  He was happy at that and said he'd pay off the mortgage faster now."

Dewey shook his head.  "I don't understand sometimes," he decided, finishing his trek to the bathroom.

***

Xander came in from his lawn patrol and kissed Ma on the cheek.  "You should be in bed, young lady.  You work much too hard to stay up this late with the naughty young men.  What sort of reputation will you get by being up all hours with sexy young men?"  She chuckled and swatted him, handing him a mug of cocoa.  "Thanks, Ma.  Where's the others?"

"In the living room, dear.  You go enjoy yourself.  I'm heading up to bed now that you're all here."

He nodded, watching while she went, then he checked the kitchen over and headed into the living room with his cocoa, sitting down next to David.  "Hey.  We're clear.  No bombs that I could see."

"Good." Ray sipped his own cocoa.  "Ma?"

"Just headed up to bed."  Xander looked at Stan.  "She'd feel better if you three stayed."

"Of course," Fraser agreed.  "When do you think they'll be able to go home?"

"When we catch this idiot," Vecchio told him firmly.  "Not before."

"They had a good idea where he was," Stan offered, seeing David's hesitant look.  "It won't be more'n a few days.  Welsh is pissed and the guy used ta be FBI."

"Good, that makes two of us," Xander agreed as he sipped his cocoa.  He snuggled into David's side with a small yawn.  "I got some of them run, dayshift can run the rest through the system tomorrow morning.  Maybe she'll teach the new in-school intern how to do it."  Hodges moaned.  "Don't worry, this one's got *some*, limited, sense.  Not much, but some.  Could be much worse.  There was a real airhead in there.  She went to Region one."  He saluted them with a grin.  "To our other centers."

"Yes, long may they not fuck up," Stan agreed, sipping his own cocoa.

"Too late," Hodges said grimly.  "Region one was why AV had the virus.  He was working on it while hooked into the system and it went rampant when it released itself."

"We need to hire some hackers for computers," Xander complained.  "Even if it's just one, it'd be easier.  They'd see all these little problems coming and contain them."

"We had one but his virus got into the system," Vecchio told him. "That's why we don't."  He stared outside.  "There's a car out there."

"That's probably Huey or a Fed," Xander said, glancing out there.  He waved and got a wave back.  "Yeah, that's Ford."  He turned around and looked at everyone and where they were staring.  "Hey, Anya.  I saw Tanya again tonight."

"I know, she's now up here with me.   You can tell that nice agent it's not a problem and she's not a vampire.  She won't turn."

"Cool.  Thanks.  Anything else?"  He took another sip.

"You're really happy?"  He nodded.  "Really, really happy?  Like won't be going for another woman happy?"

Xander nodded.  "I'm really, really happy, Anh.  I love David.  He suits me and he puts up with me.  He even complains when I try to spoil him. He's what I wanted."

"Oh."  She pouted a bit.  "I'm sorry I sucked so badly, Xander.  Forgive me?"  He nodded and she smiled.  "Thanks.  I'll just peep now and then.  The two ghosts already here don't like me much."

"No, they probably wouldn't," he agreed. "Then again, they're pretty nice.  They just want to be left alone in the attic."

"Cool."  She smiled and faded out.  "You rest, that guy won't be here for hours."

"Hours?" David asked.  "How many?"

"Oh, two or three in the morning."

Xander looked outside, then went to talk to Agent Ford.  "So, Tanya killed herself?"

"No, she got eaten by something," he admitted dryly. "What was that light?"

"My dead former fiance Anya.  She said Tanya's with her and she won't turn.  Also, the guy shouldn't be here until two or three."  He shrugged and went back inside, going to look up purification rituals so David would quit ranting.  He sat down next to him with the book.  "She only wanted to watch us have sex, David.  Calm down."

"He's coming here!"

Xander looked at him.  "I told Ford that."

"How did you explain that!" he demanded.  "She's not a source!"

"Actually, I had to explain to Agent Ford why I had weapons in LA.  I took him to the bar.  The guys down there talked to him.  He went home and freaked.  He's much better now."  The phone rang and he answered it.  "Yeah?"  He listened.  "No, it was my dead former fiance, Welsh.  Anya.  Yeah, her.  No, she's hanging around to watch the sex.  It was always her favorite thing.  Yeah, I'm working on purification rituals now," he offered. "No, David's having a hissy at the moment.  Stan and Ray are just ignoring it and sipping their cocoa.  Sure.  See ya then probably."  He hung up and sat back down, going back to his reading.  "He said night shift would be told that there was a tip that he might be coming so they'll be slowly wandering closer this way around that time.  Is it okay if I leave the attic alone?  The former owners only wanted to be up there."

"Fine, but make sure she can't watch us in the bathroom or the bedroom," Hodges said firmly.

"Yes, dear."  Xander grinned and kissed him.  "Thank you."  He kissed him again, making David slump and relax.  "Love you.  I'll let her go out to the garage too."  He went back to his reading, figuring out what he'd need to shop for tomorrow.  It's not like they could have sex with everyone in the house.

***

Welsh looked up as Xander walked into his office a week later, grimacing a bit.  "Shut the door, Harris."  Xander blushed and shut the door.  "Do you know what it's like to have a patrol officer waiting on you when you come out of your house in the morning to tell you that he caught two of your best CSI having sex in the park?"

"No," he said slowly and hesitantly.  "We didn't say anything about us being CSI until he noticed the parking permit, sir."

"Twice, Harris!"

"Hey, he only caught us once!"  Welsh glared so he slunk down a bit again.  "Sorry.  At least they didn't catch us the other times."

"I don't want to have that conversation with you, Harris," he said loudly.  "I know you've got half the world's Vecchios in your house right now but you may not have sex in the park!"

"It's not that reason," he whined.  "Anya's been making David paranoid."

"I don't wanna know that either!  Banish her!"

"I did!  I also paid the fine already!  I even did it quietly!"  He pouted at him.  "I'm sorry, it wasn't my idea but it happened.  I know I'm not the first!  I know Stan got caught at least once!  And I know Huey got caught way back when too!" he defended.  "I'm sorry and I'll pick a better spot but at least they didn't catch us the other three, um, no, five, times."  He noticed he had that same 'Xander'd' look and flinched.  It had finally been pointed out to him that bad things happened to the people who got that look, like Ecklie had once upon a time.  He liked Welsh too much to see that happen to him over something like this, even though it had been really good sex.  "I'm sorry.  I'm really, really sorry.  I'm gonna go hide, just don't die if you have a stroke or something."  He put down the files he was carrying and ran out.  "I think I upset him too much," he told Ray as he jogged past him.

"Want us to clear out for the night to give you some privacy?" Ray called after him.

"It's not you guys, it's Anya."

"Uh-huh."  He went into the office, watching as Turnbull tried to calm him down.  "Don't worry, sir, we'll be moving back in about a week.  It'll be fine.  He can go that long.  Even if he does get a bit bouncy in frustration."  Welsh glared at him.  "It's not my fault, yell at Ma!  She wanted the kitchen redone and we were gone, it was a good time.  Xander apologized too."

Welsh let out a squeak and started to pant.  "Oh, dear.  We really should call someone, detective," Turnbull fussed, getting him some water and an aspirin.  "Here, Leftenant, it'll help with that."  He gulped the water and the aspirin, calming down slowly.  "Should we call some paramedics?  Do you need rushed to the hospital?"

"He'll be fine.  Stan's done worse to him," Vecchio said dryly, smirking at his boss.  "He really was okay for the most part.  He thought he had picked somewhere out of the way but you know how zealous some of those patrol guys are.  At least that one guy called in on his cell instead of to dispatch to ask if he should bust those two."

"Out!" he shouted, pointing.  "Get out!  Go do something out of the office and take Xander with you!"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't come back until he's sane!  Take Kowalski with you!"

"Sure, sir.  Xander, we've got an early lunch, you, me, and Stan!"  He grabbed his jacket and looked at the Mountie.  "Not coming?"

"Are you sure he should be left alone?"

"Go," Welsh growled.  Turnbull saluted and left with Ray, walking stiffly behind him.  Welsh put his head down and pounded it a few times on the desk.

Dewey stuck his head in.  "What happened?"

"Harris and Hodges got caught having sex in the park," he muttered.  "Then it got worse from there."

"I'll tell Xander about that nice spot on the west end," he offered, going back to his desk.

"Go away!" Welsh called, getting up to slam his door.  Then he went to lay down for a bit on his couch.  Maybe a nap so he'd feel better.  Then he could dream Harris was sane and Vecchio was a nice guy and Kowalski wasn't an irritating prick who whistled when he had really good sex the night before. "Kowalski!" he bellowed.

"What?" he called, opening the door.  He looked around it until he saw the lieutenant on the couch.  "You need me ta run to the pharmacy for somethin', Welsh?"

"No, I want you to go away and not come back until you, Vecchio, and Harris are normal, sane, *average* people."

"So, we're fired?"

"Don't tempt me," he snapped.

"Ya know Xander's backed up, right?"

"I don't care," he growled.  "Out!"

"Yes, sir."  He headed off, going out to have his early lunch too.  It was nice, he'd only been there an hour and a half.  He found Xander and David outside.  "What happened?"

"We got busted in the park last night," Xander said with a blush.

"If you hadn't yelled, he might have left us alone," David snapped back.

"You bit me!"

"Boys, I don't wanna join Welsh in his mental breakdown," Vecchio ordered patiently.  "How long you think it'll take?"

"His breakdown?  Probably another few days.  He's taking a nap.  He wanted us to stay away until we're normal, average, and sane."

"We were fired?  With all we've done for this department?" Xander said, looking really upset.  David pinched him, making him yelp and back away.  "Honey!"

"No more jokes," he ordered.  He looked at the two detectives.  "Think we can sneak down the back way?  We're both still backed up."

"Probably not, but call Mort," Ray offered, handing over his phone. He leaned against his trunk, looking at Turnbull and Kowalski.  "Fraser on statue duty?"  He nodded, smiling at him.  "What'd he do this time?"

"He was smiling this morning.  Inspector Thatcher is apparently having one of *those* days today.  She was not the least bit pleased this morning when she came in."

Xander looked at him.  "Should I take her out to lunch too?"

"We'd like her happier, not having a breakdown of her own," Turnbull offered, smiling at him.  "Was it good?"

Stan moaned and rubbed his face.  "We don't need ta know," he announced.  "Smutty minds are for after work, after all you're in uniform," Stan reminded him.  "It's gotta be against the rule book somewhere to have smutty thoughts in uniform."

"Hmm, yes, but I have these same thoughts on guard duty as well," he admitted with a smile for his mate.  "I believe Constable Fraser does as well.  I caught him being a bit too happy yesterday actually."

Kowalski kissed him.  "Shut up," he said with a smirk.  "You're gonna give Ray nightmares."

"Sorry, detective."

"Not a problem. I had ta stop the kids from interrupting Xander and David this morning."

"I was only getting cuddles," Xander assured him.  "David, I promise, Anya's no longer floating around the house anywhere but in the attic and the garage, and maybe on the lawn.  She's not in the bedroom."  He smiled as the phone was finally answered.  "Inspector Thatcher, it's Xander.  We just got sent out for an early lunch and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us.  Of course.  No, Turnbull said you were a bit glum this morning and I'm nothing if not cheery today."  He grinned.  "I understand.  Perhaps some other time?"  He looked at David.  "Honey, she's had her date for tonight back out suddenly due to a broken leg.  She needs an escort for one of those stupid dinners and dances."

"Go.  You look okay in your tux," David promised him.  He looked at Ray.  "So, what are you making for dinner tonight?"

"Lasagna.  It's quick and easy.  Feeds a lot."

Xander grinned.  "Inspector, David said he wouldn't mind if you borrowed me in the least.  Of course.  I already have one actually.  I finally found one I looked good in so I bought it.  Of course.  Should I bring you any flowers?"  He beamed.  "That's fine.  No, standard black.  Of course.  I'll see you then."  He hung up and handed the phone over.  "I'm picking her up at nine."

David called Mort, getting their boss.  "Welsh ordered us out of the building because Xander nearly drove him insane and he's escorting Thatcher tonight to a dinner and dance.  We're headed out to pick up his tux and lunch.  Can we get you anything?"  He raised an eyebrow. "No, I had no idea the patrol told you we had been caught but he wasn't turning us in.  No, it was the same thing.  He's already paid the fine.  I know, Mort, but his ex...."  He sighed.  "Yes, sir."  He hung up.  "He said he didn't want to see us tonight either."

"Okay, so I have time to do something about my messy hair," Xander said with a shrug.  "Home?"

"Sounds good," Ray agreed.  He took back his phone, watching as Xander got into his car to drive.  He looked at Kowalski.  "See ya there?"

"Sure."  They all headed off, going back to Xander's.  They could be found easily enough there and it was about dead center of the precinct's area so they'd be quick enough to respond if something came up.

"Hey, Welsh, they're all heading off," Huey called from the squad room window.  "By the turns they just made, they're all heading to Xander's."

"That's fine, they aren't here and maybe everyone will be normal in the morning."  He slammed his door again.

Huey looked around the mostly empty squad room and shook his head. "I wonder what they did this time."

***

Hodges got into his car, then jumped when he saw the ghost sitting next to him.  "What do you want?"

"I wanted to come talk to you."  She stared at him.  "You know Xander's not gay, right?"

"He's bi, he said so."  He started the car and buckled up.  "Get out."

"No.  He was mine first.  I'm always going to watch over Xander.  No matter what he does, I'm always going to watch over him.  The same as my former friends will."

Hodges looked at her.  "Do you know why he left them?"

"Because they were being brats."

"The same as you were to him, Anya.  You used him just as much as they did.  You helped them ruin him just as much as those other two did.  The only one who he said treated him with respect and kindness was Tara.  Too bad she's dead."  Anya looked stunned.  "Yeah, I asked him the last time he had a few.  He told me allll about you guys.  How you used him for money and sex.  How the others used him for various things.  I'm sorry you died and so is he, but I'm not being driven out of my own house by you.  Xander loves me."

"He did that tongue thing to me first," she sneered.

"Yeah, well, you gave it up, sweetie.  You didn't like oral sex that much, too bad for you.  Now, get out of my car."

"I'm allowed out here," she defended.

"Not when I have him do the banishment again you're not.  Now, get out."  She glared.  "I don't care, Anya.  He's mine now.  He's living and he's mine.  When he dies maybe you'll get him back but until then, he's mine and all mine.  Now, out!"

The car door opened and Xander got into the back seat behind him, kissing him on the ear.  "Anya, out.  Do not bother David.  I love David and you're upsetting him.  I won't have him upset.  I'm not losing him because you're being a selfish ghost.  End of discussion.  Now, leave.  Don't make me finish the banishment."  She faded out.  "I mean fully, Anya.  I can still hear you."  She faded off and he got out, coming around to sit in the front seat.  "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he sighed, giving him a real kiss.

"You like that tongue thing?" he asked with a grin.

"More often than not.  Are you heading in with me?  It's your day off."

"Yeah, but I'm still backed up," he pointed out.  "I need to go in.  Come on, we'll be late."  David nodded and backed them out of the driveway, heading into work.  Once there, he winked at Mort.  "I'm not here."

"Fine," he agreed, watching them walk back to their adjoining labs.  He shook his head and got his things for the morning meeting, then sat down to wait.  Their DNA person was late again and everyone was waiting on her. The intern who usually worked days came out looking very confused.  "Yes, that's Xander," he said before he could ask.

"He just called me a moron and told me to get out."

"Xander!" Mort yelled.

"He was running 'match the bullet's when he reloaded using shop stock," he called back.  He came out with the day's results, looking through them quickly to sort out the ones that needed to be looked at more carefully.  "Okay, kid."  He sized up the piles, then him.  "You're switching to my shift."  The intern looked stunned.  "You need more work than Crissy can give you.  We do more work on nights anyway.  So therefore you're going to learn how to become a good ballistics tech and if you're lucky and pass with me, I'll help you get a good spot in Vegas or Miami.  I think you need the hand holding.  A lot. So I'm going to work with you tonight.  How many more weeks do you have?"

"Six," he said weakly.

"Good, then for the next five weeks, you're on my schedule. Get a copy from Mort.  Now, let's go talk about these ones you did unnecessary tests on and got odd results on.  She left the stack for me to look at tomorrow night anyway.  Let's go.  Grab your soda."  He grabbed his bottle of juice and followed him back.  Xander walked into the office and shut the door, giving David a weak smile.  "All right, there's a bullet on the desk.  Position into the reader, then run a usual 'match the riflings' order."  Xander watched while he did it, then groaned.  "No."  He walked over, turning it so at least three of the grooves were showing.  "That's how you do that.  You need at least three grooves.  Then you need to input the bullet's file references.  That would be on the envelope if someone did their jobs right, like Crissy and I do."  He looked at the envelope, feeling it.  "The other one," he said tiredly.  The kid found it and sat down to type, finding a match in the system.  "Yes, you're overriding."  The kid finished typing in and Xander checked it while he saved it.  "Okay, you're missing four of the ten fields.  There's how many lans and grooves?  What sort of case was it?  Name on the case.  Type of weapon fired from.  All that's on the envelope."

"It's not."

Xander flipped it over, holding it up.  "It is.  There's not enough space.  The name on the case is still on the front."  He stepped back, watching as the kid did it, watching him correct some of the fields he had put in.  Xander came back to read it, taking the keyboard to correct the abbreviations.  "You can use more space in every field but the numerical ones."  He handed it back.  "Now, take the mouse.  Go up to the 'match' menu.  Run a rifling."

"What about the bullet?"

"Look on the front of the envelope.  See the boxes for 'reloaded in shop' and 'original ammo'?"  The kid looked and nodded.  "What does it say?"

"Reloaded in shop."  He looked up at him.  "But we still should...."  Xander smacked him across the back of the head.  "Hey!"

"Reloaded in the shop means that we used some ammo we had lying around," he said impatiently. "That means that I, since that was my case, loaded the gun with bullets from the cabinet.  Which means that you'll only come up to 'standard ammo, used in however many police departments.  It's a waste of time, energy, and good paper.  Now, the only time you run that is if you only have a bullet , you can't identify it, or there's a doubt about what type of ammo it is.  Run the rifling test now."  The intern sighed and did so, coming up with six matches.  Xander looked and then looked at the bullet.  "Uncheck the last one.  It's the wrong caliber."

"It's not."

"That's from a .38.  This bullet came from a .09 mm, kid.  That means it's a different gun."  He found the identification manual, handing it over.  "Learn this.  Read it, understand it.  It's part of the job."

"You're mean."

"In less than a year, you're going to be the one doing this job," he said firmly.  "People will go to jail and be raped and tortured by the other prisoners because of what you do and do not do.  If you fuck up this way then, you're going to be sending innocent people to prison and not getting those who actually did the crimes.  You're going to be the one giving detectives information so they can track down people.  You're also going to be losing your job if you do this poorly when you're alone.  When I was an intern, after I graduated, I ran Las Vegas's lab for nearly two months because my internship guy was out with a sick mother who had cancer."  The guy went pale.  "You'd better be trained and able from day one to come in and at least look smart, sound like you've got a clue, and able to do the work efficiently, quietly, and well.  If you can't, then you're in the wrong field."  The kid nodded, checking the others and finding one other that wasn't a match.  "No, that was a nine-mil," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.  "A Luger is an automatic most often.  Look it up in the book."  The kid flipped through the book and found it, then rechecked that box.  "Now, pull up the information files for all those cases.  You'll be printing them for the detective in charge if this were a real case."  The kid looked at him.  "Yes, we're roleplaying."  The kid did so, printing them all.  "What else do you do?"

"I file the ballistics imprint into the system."

"Typing in the information automatically did that," Xander said patiently.  "The database was set up that way."  He looked at him.  "Some departments allow for a single scan of the report.  Basically the chemical analysis page or the report from the cases.  I do real reports.  So therefore you will do real reports," he said firmly.  "Open up the Word program, get about summarizing.  It should not be longer than two pages unless you have multiple weapons in the same case.  Those can be put togther into one report but you'll have a page or two on each gun and characteristics.  It will be grammatically correct, it will be spelled correctly.  It will not waste words.  Most detectives have at least ten open cases, if not more, and the more you give them the less they can use it and get it down in their heads.  On a case like this, your opening should be about the gun.  Make, model, color, any distinguishing features, like serial number.  The next should be what you did, the test fire.  I reloaded in shop since no bullets were found in the clip.  I used such and such ammo, which is this caliber and this size, because that can make a difference, and the last paragraph will be about the bullets.  The rifling, the lans and grooves.  The other cases you found, including case numbers AND names so they can cross-reference easily and quickly.  In this case, I would be putting the other cases together in their own paragraph, just for symmetry and not having a page long paragraph. Then you grammatick it, you spell check it, and you print it, then you save it under the case name and number.  Got it?"  The intern nodded, looking scared.  "Go for it."  He pulled out a chair and sat down to watch him.  "Remember, I do ten to fifty guns a night on night shift.  Days has it easier than we do.  Speed and accuracy are what you need in the lab."

"I still say you're being mean."

"You'd better learn to get used to it, kid.  You're mine for the next five weeks.  At the end of that time, you'll go for a week back with Crissy and she'll do a before and after evaluation.  That evaluation will be the basis of you finding a good internship after school.   My in-school one was with a military academy and their lab for the military testing range.  My scores were excellent both before and after.  I got Las Vegas, one of the best labs in the US."  The kid shivered.  "I'd work faster.  After this, we've got another ten to do.  I'm backed up because earlier this week we had a gun runner with two cases of weapons."  The kid moaned.  "I did all the test fires that night, got everything marked in and started the processing before going home.  Crissy finished up that morning, that same day you came in.  Then I got to do hers.  When she comes in tomorrow, the only thing she should see is the stuff that comes in after *we* leave."  The kid nodded, looking around.  He moaned and held his head.  "The gun is in the box with the name of the case and number on it."  He got up to look on the shelves, finding it and bringing it back.  "You can break the evidence tape.  Just initial it on the top of the box that you broke it and when you retape with the date and time and why."

"Should I put roleplaying?" he asked snidely.

"Training exercise because you need it."  He stared the kid down and he got back to work.  Xander got up to check the other cases, finding out where he was.  She had to do mostly processing.  She had two test fires to do, he'd save those for last.  With his luck, the kid would misload and shoot his hand off.  He sorted them and sat down again, watching him type slowly.  "Time's ticking, junior.  Hurry up.  I can type twenty words a minute and I'm faster.  If you need a style sheet, pull up one of the files from earlier in the week."

"Can I pull up this one?"

"As long as you don't copy it."  He searched for it using the 'find' option and then opened it, reading it over.  He grinned and started to type quickly. "Good, you can type.  That's always an asset.  I'm popping next door to Trace.  It's my minor.  I'll be back in a minute."

"You took a minor?"

Xander looked at him and nodded.  "Plus the mandatory fieldwork classes and two optional ones so I could deal with it in the field when I had to.  You finish up.  I'll be back in ten minutes, I'll expect you to have that one finished and laid out properly, including the box."  He went next door, closing it behind him, and leaned on his mate's shoulder.  "Gods, why me?" he moaned quietly.

"Because otherwise the kid'll go out and someone will get hurt," Hodges said, rubbing his back.  "It'll be fine.  Five weeks with you should enable him to know *something* by then."

He smiled at him.  "Call Crissy.  She's probably having a headache thinking about everything she'd have to redo."

Xander sat down at the desk and pulled the phone closer, dialing her cell.  "Cris?  It's Xander. I'm taking the intern, he needed help.  I'll take him for the next five weeks and let you do the before and after.  No, he was running 'match the ammo' when it was reloaded in the shop.  No reports printed in most cases.  I have no idea.  I was better trained before I came in, honey.  Yeah, I know you hate me calling you that.  I'm sorry."  He rubbed his forehead.  "Yeah, he'll be keeping my schedule.  No, just popped in for lunch.  Sure.  No, he says I'm mean.  I've had him redoing one of my ones earlier this week to show him what it was supposed to be like."  He heard a shriek and groaned, shaking his head.  "I don't know.  Laters."  He hung up and slid open the door, looking at him. "What were you doing?" he asked, coming in to take the cigarette and put it out.  "You don't do that in the labs.  There's explosive chemicals across the hall and next door.  Get back to work!"  He cowered and got back to work, copying and pasting.  Xander smacked him again.  "Your own, junior.  No cheating.  That's against the law and will get you kicked out of your program.  Feel lucky you have me.  You'll be expected to do this all by yourself by the time your six weeks is up.  We're supposed to give you a night alone in the lab and then check over your shoulder."  He blanched and got back to work.  Xander sat down behind his desk, looking over at David, shaking his head.  "He's going to be keeping our schedule, dear."

"That's fine.  What did you want for dinner?"

"Aspirin."  The kid glared at him and he glared back, making him flinch.  "Not involving you."  He looked at David again.  "Wherever's fine.  Maybe Libyan? I'm in the mood for meat and sauce.  Middle Eastern maybe?"

"Sure.  I'll order from the Thai and Pakistani place tonight.  The usual?"

"Meat with sauce and bread, maybe some veggies thrown in if they're grilled.  Whatever's good."

"Sure."  He smiled at him and went back to work, closing the door.

"Children, we might as well start," Mort called.  "She's apparently not coming in."

"Coming," David called, marking his place with a piece of tape and heading out.  "Xander's decided he's taking over the intern.  The kid's calling him mean."

"Wonderful," he said grimly.  "Crissy's opinion?"

"He called, he didn't sound like she was protesting.  We're ordering from either a Greek or that Thai and Pakistani place tonight if anyone wants to order with us."  They all nodded, going to dig out that menu to look it over.

Mort got up and walked down the hall, tapping on the door.  "Xander, would you please be so kind as to go see what's keeping our DNA tech?  She hasn't called in yet."

"Sure.  Give me her addy.  I'll take the new kid here with me.  Maybe we'll run into a scene or something so he sees that too."

"I can't do field work, sir," he said stiffly.

"I can, you can."  He stood up, going to get the address.  "Come on, junior.  I'm about eight years older than you, you should be able to keep up."  He walked out, going to his car.  The kid followed a few minutes later.  "In."  He got in, looking over at Stan when he saw his smirk.  "The new ballistics intern," he mouthed, shaking his head.  He got in and checked the address, then rolled down the window.  "Hey, Stan!"  He came back.  "Where's Pershing?"

"Up by the university, across from the library if I remember right.  Or at least that's part of it."

The kid looked at the address.  "She's apparently about three blocks from there, headed this way, sir."

"Thanks, kid."  He waved at the detective.  "This is Detective Kowalski. You'll be seeing him with Detective Vecchio and the Mounties usually.  Get used to him, he brings us a lot of stuff."  He started the engine.  "We're ordering Middle Eastern tonight."  He backed out, heading toward the university.

"How long ago did you graduate?" the kid asked once they were on the main street in this area.

"Two years and a bit.  I did mine at UCLA."

"What about the Academy?"

"Vegas didn't require it for interns and I asked here.  I took the two tests they wanted me to take and I passed with pretty decent scores so they let me bypass it. Since I didn't really want to do more than occasional field work and I adamantly didn't want to be a cop.  I was pure lab tech and they knew all about what I could do and my prior combat training."

"You were military?"

"Not quite."  He turned the corner, using his signals, and waved at Tracy as he roared past.  "That was CSI Tracy.  He's a field tech.  I'll be making you do a shooting scene with him so you get used to the ballistics in the field and trajectory stuff.  Also the residue issue and all that.  Expect it within the next week, the next time they get a shooting."  The kid nodded.  "Which way?"

"East."  Xander turned again, frowning when lights came on behind them.  He pulled over and the kid snickered.  The officer walked over.  "Sorry, officer, I distracted him by giving him directions."

Xander looked up at the cop.  "The new ballistics intern.  I'm going up to check on our DNA tech.  How's the wife and kids, Pearly?"

"Good.  The kid's in music classes again.  I really should ticket you."

"He distracted me and I'm mentally arming myself to deal with the snotty bitch."

"Ah.  Her.  I was hoping you were talking about the other one.  Have fun, CSI Harris."

"Thanks.  Wonderful fun," he agreed dryly, starting the car again.  "Nice night.  Thanks for not turning me in for having sex in the park with my husband."  He grinned and waved, heading off.  "Really nice guy.  Has two kids.  Just transferred down from SWAT because it got too much for him."

"Do you do that too?"

"I'm on call for explosives and construction sort of stuff. I used to do it in my old life."  He used the blinker and turned the corner, finding the address in the middle of the block.  "You armed, kid?"

"I have a name."

"I'm horrible with names.  I called David Angela last night."  He got out, looking up at the building.  "Fuck."  He headed for the security gate, finding her buzzer, and pushed it.

"Hello?"

"It's Xan, from the lab.  Mort sent me to check on you since he thought you were due in tonight?" he called.  "Need a ride?"

"No, I called off."

"He never got the message."

"Oh.  I'll call him again.  Thank you, Harris."

"Not an issue.  It's my night off."  He heard a scream and winced.  "Was that you?"

"Nooooo."

"Let me in, that was a scream of horror, not of rage."  The gate buzzed and he walked in, hand on his gun.  "Chicago PD," he called, heading up the stairs nearest him.  He heard another scream and headed that way, finding a woman being attacked.  He pulled his gun.  "Freeze!  Chicago PD!"  The man with the knife froze.  "Put it down!" he yelled. "Now!"

"What's going on?" their DNA tech called from her door.

"Call Dispatch, we have a stabbing victim and an attacker."  The guy tried to run but the rookie jumped him and knocked him down.  "Good enough.  Hold him there.  You got cuffs?"

"You?"

"I don't carry cuffs," Xander said, giving him a dirty look.  "Now, dear," he ordered.  She ran to call 911 and he got down to check the victim.  "It's all right, ma'am.  You'll be fine.  Those aren't in fatal areas and you'll be just fine.  I'll ride to the hospital with you if I need to."  He heard running and looked back, finding a guy with a 'security' jacket on.  "Got cuffs?"  He nodded, handing them over.  Xander tossed them to the kid.  "Cuff him to the railing.  He can still run while cuffed.  Pat him down, put any and all weapons and pocket contents just out of reach of his foot.  The CSI will need to bag them if the cops answering don't."  He looked at the security guard.  "He's our new ballistics intern, can you help him?"  The guy nodded and came over to help while Xander continued to put pressure on the wounds.  "See, it's all right.  You'll be just fine."  He saw the cat and smiled. "Inside, shoo," he ordered, waving a hand at it.  It ran back inside and he edged the door closed by the bottom edge.  He heard more running and looked back, finding patrol officers.  "Hey, I was up checking on our DNA intern.  I heard screams, I was chatting with her on her comm, I had her let me in, I followed the screams and found that guy attacking her.  He tried to flee, the new ballistics intern tackled him.  They're working on patting him down.  The cuffs belong to that nice security guy."

"Thank you, CSI Harris.  How is she?"

"Stabbed at least three times that I can see."

"Ambulance is on the way," the other one reported, going over to help with that guy while his partner dealt with the victim.  He knew he had a weak stomach.  He looked at him.  "Harris, I always wondered.  Why don't you have a badge?"

"I wasn't required to go to the academy," he said dryly.  "I came in as a lab tech with minor field training and only had to take some tests with the training I took in Vegas from the SWAT guys out there.  That and my prior combat let me pass it but I can't carry a badge."

"Think you ought to with what you get into?" one of the guys joked.

"Hell no, then I'd get called in to do more SWAT."  He frowned at him, earning a chuckle.  "Besides, then I might have to actually *arrest* people instead of doing the fun stuff and just shooting them and questioning them."  He grinned at the woman, who had let out a light laugh.  "I have had to.  At some scenes, some rookies don't clear it well enough.  I've had guys coming out to kill me for working the scene."  He stroked her hair back.  "It's all right. You'll be fine."  He looked at the rookie.  "This isn't a ballistics case, kid.  David and Gena will get this one.  Now think about what I was saying earlier.  What if he wasn't here and they did what you were."  The kid shivered and nodded, watching the patrol officers.  He looked at the cops and shrugged.  "He's still in school.  He's mine for the next five weeks."

"I hope you can turn him into another like you, Harris," the second officer offered.  "Listen to him, kid.  He's better than he has to be, but he doesn't brag.  He doesn't shove it in our faces.  We get along well with him because he's so damn good and just does his job.  He helps out where he can and does what he can.  He never does things he knows he can't do and he'll admit when he's clueless.  Turn out like him and you'll be an asset to any department.  Turn out like an asskisser like his mate can be now and then, and you're about fucked for life.  That's a rep that'll haunt you."

"David's very concerned about his career, guys.  He's not an asskisser.  He just points out when he's done good and gone the extra mile.  When we go the extra mile, we make it easier on you guys and he deserves recognition for that. He's a great guy.  He's definitely not an asskisser."

"Fine, sorry," the first officer offered.  "Tell him we apologize for thinking he was."

"Sure."  He smiled at the paramedic coming up the stairs.  "Three stabs that I can see.  Two are barely bleeding, the one I'm holding was gushing a moment ago.  Looks like a big carving knife."  He wiggled out of the way and stood up.  "Did anyone think to call the field guys?  I'm not on call tonight."

"Not yet," the second officer offered.  "Let me do that."  He pulled his radio off his shoulder.  "Dispatch, this is Hurvis.  We need field CSI here as well.  Harris is not on call tonight and he's got an intern."  He let it go.

"Routed on their way, Officer.  CSI Miller en route."

"Thank you, dispatch," he replied and put it up.  He stood up, bringing the guy up.  He had replaced his cuffs already.  He did another pat just in case, adding a few sticks of gum to the pile, then smiled at the intern.  "Nice tackle.  Think about going the academy route, kid."  He walked the perp off, following the paramedics down the stairs.  He nodded at the CSI pulling up.  "His possessions are on the walkway in a pile.  I didn't have a bag with me."

"Sure.  Harris?"

"He was checking on the DNA person. He's got the new ballistics intern with him."

"Ah.  He heard screaming and ran inside?"  That got a nod.  "Decent."  He skipped up the stairs, grinning at them.  "My people.  What's up?"

"Kitchen knife," Xander said, pointing at it.  "I heard a scream, got Sheila to let me inside. I heard another on the way up, tracked it.  He was in the doorway, she was being attacked.  I ordered, I pulled but did not fire."

"That's a switch," he joked.

Xander hit him on the arm. "Shut up, Miller."  They shared a grin.  "The rookie there pounced him when he tried to run.  Very nice tackle by the way.  He patted down, the security guy offered his cuffs for a few moments, then apparently he left.  I'm assuming he lives or works here."  He looked at him.  "Sheila called dispatch, they came.  I had them call for you guys.  I'm heading back with him."  He pulled the rookie up.  "Have fun.  Pretty open and shut."

"Decent."  He watched them go.  "He'll get that kid straightened out," he decided.  "If anyone can, he can."  He got to work on the doorway.  He knew Xander wouldn't have touched it really.  If anywhere it'd be somewhere he wouldn't compromise it. He smiled at the cat.  "Hey, kitty.  Give me a minute and I'll check your food dish and water for you.  Your human will be out on bail within a few days probably.  The system sucks that way."  The cat sat down to stare at him, watching him as he fingerprinted the door.

***

Xander walked back into the lab, stopping for a kiss.  "The two patrol officers earlier are sorry that they called you an asskisser and when I corrected them they said it was only human of you to brag now and then when you went extra far and deep for a case."  He stole another kiss and went to check on the kid, who was finishing up his statement for earlier, then finished up the report, spell and grammar checking it.  "Good.  Now print, put together, and move on.  We've got another ten to go tonight, it's a light night."

David grinned at him.  "You defended me."

"I love you, of course I did," he sighed, smirking at him.  "You're not an asskisser, you said you wouldn't do that."  The kid blushed.  "I'm married to him, I can say dirty things to him in the lab, we just can't have sex in here.  Get back to it."  He smirked and winked at David.  "Small stabbing."  Mort came to the door.  "She said she called in and it's not her night tonight."

"Bull," he said dryly.  "What was it?"

"Stabbing.  Kitchen knife."

"His ex-wife by what we were told on the fact sheet," Mort offered, waving it a bit.  "Apparently the divorce wasn't going well.  It was his apartment."

"If he doesn't get bail, he's got a cat."

"I'll alert someone to make sure someone knows."  He smiled at him.  "Thank you, Xander."

"Not an issue.  Rookie here tackled him."

"I still have a name."

"He's horrible with names.  He called me Angela last night," David said sarcastically.

"You fried my brains," he joked with a small grin.  "Hurry up so we can have a longer lunch."

"I need help if I'm going to clear tonight."

"Let me make sure he can and I'll come over after lunch to help," he promised.  David grinned at that and went back to work.  "Love you."

"Love you too, Xander.  Get back to work."  He shut the door between their labs.  He also shook his head, even though he was smiling.  Xander was very unique. Very, very unique.

***

One of the patrol guys stopped Xander on their way out.  "So, threesome now?" he teased.

"No," David said patiently.  "What makes you think I'm that bored with him?"

"He was out on a date with Thatcher."

"Ah."  David looked at Xander.  "You can explain.  I'll go warm up the car."

Xander snickered.  "He's gotten this a few times in the last few days. She had one of those event thingies and her date had a broken leg.  Since I can dance, she knows I talk well most of the time, and I wouldn't hit on her, I was a safe escort for her.   She flirted with the Russian ambassador all night and bragged about the consulate and how efficient they are.  Turnbull got flowers the next morning from a new admirer."

The officer shook his head.  "That's no fair.  You go out with a pretty woman and don't even *try*, man."

"Why would I need to try?  I've got David and he's more than I can handle."  He leaned closer.  "You guys think I've got energy?" he suggested smugly.  He winked and walked off.  "I'm headed home and I was never here."

"Sure, Harris.  Take all the fun outa my life," he called after him.  "Now who will I fantasize about?"

"You can still dream about me," he said, turning around to grin at him.  "But get the other person right, honey."  He turned around and ran into the Chief of Detectives.  "Sorry, sir, verbally jousting with an officer."

"You are?"

"Harris.  CSI.  Ballistics and Trace."

"I see."  He looked at him.  "Badge number?"  Xander snorted.  "You have to give it if I ask."

"No, because some of us are *lab* techs, we didn't have to go to the academy.  I only do the field once or twice a month to keep my training current.  That is in the rule books, sir.  You can ask Lieutenant Welsh if you want."

"Walk with me, Harris."

"Sir, my husband is waiting.  I'm not even supposed to be in tonight."  He got glared at and sighed.  "David, it's gonna be a few," he called.  He followed him up the stairs, glaring at his back.  He looked at Welsh.  "He thinks it's odd that the rules say I don't have to be a cop too."

"I always thought that.  I'd prefer if you did, it'd give you a better chance when you're in the field and something happens."

"I don't think I need more teaching in that area, Lieutenant.  Isn't what I already have enough in the survival arena?"  David came up the stairs and he looked at him.  "Welsh thinks I should go to the academy now."

"No.  I don't want you in uniform or available for SWAT to pull more often.  There's no way."  He looked at the Chief of Detectives.  "Those of us who are lab techs aren't required unless the majority of our work is in the field.  Since it's not...."  He shrugged.  "He doesn't have to.  He passed both the tests they gave him well enough.  That's more than enough for the people in the Central building, it's good enough for us."

"I'd still like him to do some field training," Welsh offered.

"Hell no.  I don't want to go into the field that often," Xander told him. "No way in hell, sir.  I'm a ballistics tech with a minor in trace.  Try to force me and I'm going to never go into the field again."

"You do SWAT?" the chief asked.

"I'm on call for demolitions.  I did construction before I went to college.  I have my license for that and I've been learning the others now for a few years.  I decided to spread out into a few areas so I'd have a better chance of landing in a good department."  He stared the older man down.  "I'm not hitting the academy.  The rules say I don't have to and I don't want to.  I don't want to be a cop and I'm inadmissable anyway.  I'm missing an eye."  He shuddered.  "So therefore no, I'm not going.  End of discussion?"

"I've been trying for years to get that loophole closed, CSI Harris."

Xander walked him into the office and slammed the door.  David could hear the yelling and sighed, leaning on the side of Stan's desk while they went at it.  Xander came out and he was glaring.  "You okay?"

"Can I shoot someone?"

"No.  What do you need to do?"

"Shoot someone."  Xander glared back at the office.  "Even if you wrote a personal letter, you can't make us go.  Most lab techs won't pass the physical or the mental evals.  I'm one of three in the office down there.  Region one is worse and Region three has a number of people on canes and with artificial limbs due to that bomb a few years back.  You can't make us and if you try we can and will sue you.  The rules when we were hired say that we don't have to be academy graduates.  I'm not, nor will I ever be.  Get used to it or go home crying to mommy.  I can still out-think and out-perform you on any street in this city or any other.  I grew up somewhere that was much worse and then moved to LA because it was *easier*.  You get me into a uniform over your dead body.  Maybe you should take the hint."  He stomped off.

David looked at him.  "By the rules, only field techs do have to be academy graduates.  Those of us who stay in the lab do not.  Nor would we pass.  He's right about that.  I can't get in, I have flat feet and I don't meet the weight or the height requirement.  None of our staff do but Xander.  And he's handicapped so he's not allowed.  You can't make it go through and if you do, you'll lose every single CSI in this city.  Then what'll your detectives do?"  He walked off, going to gather Xander.

Xander had stomped right downstairs and right into autopsy.  "Head's up," he said coldly.  "The Chief of Detectives wants us all in the academy.  Starting with me.  I'm no longer open for field work.  I want that rookie to be at a shooting scene before he leaves my care, but I'm not going."

"If you wish, Xander," Mort agreed quietly.  "Are you all right?"

"Hell no!" he said bitterly.  "None of us could go!  Who in the hell does he think he is!  I've faced a hellgod, he's a bitch-sucking nothing in my book and I nearly, I came so damn close, Mort, to shooting him.  I wanted to so bad and Welsh was the one who stopped me.  I'm going home."  He turned and stomped off, running into David coming down the stairs.  "Home?"

"Home," he agreed quietly, watching his mate throw a fit.  He looked at the officers staring at them.  "The Chief of Detectives wants us all in the academy."

"He could go," the desk sergeant offered.

"He's missing an eye."

"Oh.  Never mind."  He shrugged.  "What'll you guys do?"

"Xander said he'd sue 'em if he tried.  I'd probably go along with him if they tried to fire us for it.  You might want to gossip about this point."  He headed out, going to shove Xander out from behind the wheel, but he was in the passenger's seat, holding his head with the seat tipped back.  "Headache?"

"Yeah.  My head's pounding with my pulse.  My blood pressure is obviously up."  He looked at him.  "I can sue for that, right?"  He nodded.  "You'll stand with me?"

"Sure.  I know I'm not eligible.  Most lab techs don't have to go.  There's a few state police who require it but they prefer their guys to get and education and retire to the labs instead from what I've heard."  He started the car.  "It'll be okay, Xander.  We do good work for this city.  If not, I guess we'll sell the house and move to Canada."

Xander gave him a weak grin.  "Thanks, Dave."

"Welcome, babe.  Now buckle up.  Need the hospital?"

"No, I need to meditate."  He buckled himself in, growling as the man came out of the station.  "Let's go before I'm tempted again."  He went back to cradling his head.

"If this continues I want you to see the doctor," he said quietly, pulling out of the lot.

"Yeah, sure."

"I will handcuff and drag you there," he promised.  Xander nodded but didn't say anything.  Usually that got a protest from him.  He looked at him and sighed.  "Xander?"  Xander looked at him. "Hospital?"  He nodded quickly, going back to rubbing his head.  "Had to happen with as many as you've sent by screwing with their heads."  Xander let out a choking laugh at that.  "Just hold on."  He sped up once the light turned green, heading for their usual place.  He pulled into the ER lot and parked, then got out and came around to help his mate.  He walked him inside and up to the desk.  "I'm not sure, but he just suddenly had a blood pressure spike and pains in his head.  We were ambushed at work by an idiot."

"Does he have a heart condition?"

"Not that I'm aware of.  I'm his husband."

"All right.  Let's get him checked in.  Can I take your temperature, sir?"  He nodded, flopping down into a chair to let him do that.  The blood pressure cuff came out at the same time and the guy did it, wincing when he had to reinflate it and do it again at a higher level. "I'm going to move him back to a room immediately."  He went to tell the nurses, getting one with a wheelchair right away.  "Here you go.  Name?"

"Harris," David told him.  "Xander Harris. He's been here before for a gunshot wound and a stab wound.  Might be in the police section if you have one."  He followed and the nurse gave him an odd look.  "I'm his husband.  I'll be frisking him because I know he's armed."

"That's fine," she agreed.  "What happened?"

"The Chief of Detective ambushed him.  He went off.  He went to tell our boss, then headed outside to wait in the car once he was done.  I came out and he was holding his head.  He said his blood pressure was up."

"It was three-hundred-and-two over one-ninety.  I'd say," she said dryly, putting him into a room.  "Here, get him onto the table, frisk him, and I'll be right back with the doctor."  She hurried off, going to tell someone.  If his head was hurting, they could only hope it wasn't a stroke.

***

David walked up the stairs the next morning, handing Welsh a note.  "I'm going to kill the mother fucker if he ever comes near me or Xander again.  You can pass that onto him if you'd like," he said grimly.  Welsh looked stunned.  "Xander nearly had a stroke last night.  I'm not letting him hurt Xander and I will sue his ass.  He has to wait two days and go back to make sure his blood pressure is coming down again with the new medicines he's on.  That's his excuse.  They faxed one to Mort last night.  If they try this shit, we're both leaving."  He walked off, going downstairs.  He looked at their boss.  "You got it last night?"

"I did.  How is he?"

"I checked it before I left.  It was nearly normal.  It was back down to about one-ninety over seventy-five."  Mort nodded.  "Last night it was three-oh-two over one-ninety.  They can find another damn way.  We both passed those tests."

"I agree.  We're already discussing it with the mayor and the city council, plus the union reps.  Relax.  Let us handle it."

"Xander told him he'd sue 'im.  I'm going to follow him in this."

"I agree, David.  Just calm down."  He looked around.  "Where is Sheila?"

"Not in, boss," Steven called from AV.

Mort growled and went to call her, making some threats of his own to her.  Then he called the head office to chew someone up there a new one.  This was totally unacceptable to do to his people.  He came back and sat down, looking much calmer.  "Shall we?" he suggested.  David took his usual spot with his bottled water.  "Did you check on him?"

"Just to make sure he was lounging on the couch," David agreed.

"That's fine."  He looked over as Sheila hurried in.  "We're starting, sit down."  She sat, taking off her jacket once she was sitting.

***

Xander looked over as the doorbell rang.  "Who is it?" he yelled.

"Stan!"

"Use the key.  David said he'd beat me if I got up."  The door opened and Stan walked in, handing him a bag.  "I can't have grease.  Or chocolate.  Or salt.  Or anything good and tasty.  So what's that so I can hide it and eat it later?"

Stan smirked.  "A salad with chicken.  Turnbull said Thatcher likes it."  He sat down beside Xander's feet as he dug out his salad.  "How you feel?"

"No more pounding headache.  It's a nice change."

"What happened?"

"The Chief of Detectives wants us all in the academy."  He ate a bite and grimaced.  "Lettuce, yuck."

"Eat it anyway.  If you're good they'll let you go back some."

"Fine."  He ate another bite.  "Anyway, I pointed out we didn't have to go.  He said we should have to go, he's trying to get the loophole closed.  I pointed out that none of us are eligible to go to the academy, he started to say it was necessary and that I wasn't good enough to go out onto the streets without it.  He sneered when I pointed out I had more survival training than he did.  So I lost it in the office.  Welsh kept me from shooting him for pleasure.  Then I told Mort I'm no longer heading into the field while this shit is going on, and I went to have a near-stroke in the car."  He ate another bite.  "Want some?  I'll share my lettuce."

"No thanks.  I only like lettuce in my burgers."  He leaned back.  "You better now?"

"They put me on medicine for it and it's bringing it down.  I was nearer to normal before David went to work."  He heard a car door slam and looked outside.  "But I'm feeling it going back up by the second.  Go shoo off IA for me?"

"Sure."  He got up and went to the door, staring them down.  "Harris is presently on bed rest for his blood pressure.  He don't need this."

"I know.  I only want to ask him about his former girlfriend who died."

"He was here when she died," Stan told him.  "I was with him."

"How did she get out?"

Xander got up and came to the door, resting against Stan's back.  "She said she learned a lot about security systems watching me work on Wolfram and Hart's in LA.  Did you guys find my stalker too?"  They shook their heads.  "That's fine.  I'm dizzy, I'm going back to my couch.  Can't this wait?"

"We really do need a statement."

"I was here when she died," he called as he trudged back to his salad.  "Ask the coroner how she died."

"She died by being bitten by something."

"Then ask the people who deal in the X-Files cases."  He laid down and covered his lap, pulling his dog up to see if she wanted some of the lettuce.  She licked off the dressing and settled in for a nap, letting him eat it.  "Damn."  He flipped the channel and picked back up his salad, eating that bite.

"Dogs don't like lettuce," Stan said with a smug look.  He nodded behind him as the door closed.  "Sorry."

"Not an issue.  You can stay, right?"

"For a few more. I'm headed back after a call."

"Sure."  He ate another bite and looked at the Internal Affairs guys.  "What?"

"Are you all right, CSI Harris?"

"No," he snorted.  "I got into it with the Chief of Detectives and nearly had a stroke."

"Why?" one asked patiently.

"Because the rules say that we lab techs only have to pass two tests, we don't have to do the academy.  He wants to force us to, even though none of us are really fit to go."  He ate another bite and calmed himself down.  "I had a good yell at him and it raised my blood pressure."

"I thought all field techs had to go," the first officer asked.

"I'm not a field tech."

"Oh.  We've seen you in the field and questioning someone."

Xander stared him down.  "I only go into the field once or twice a month to keep my skills updated and current.  I'm a ballistics tech with a minor in trace and the mandatory classes for field work plus two electives.  I thought it'd come in handy.  It has.  I'm not going into the field again thanks to him.  You won't have to worry about it."

"What about that serial case?" the second one asked quietly.

"One of my rare field times was a domestic call," Xander told him.  "When he died in the hospital that night, I was called back because everyone assumed it was the same case.  I'm the one who found the second body and I called in someone more senior and acted as his second since I was already involved and I have a decent feel for serial killers now and then."

"How?"

"The girl who died was one," Xander told them.  "That's why she was in the institute for the criminally insane.  Her and my stalker, who apparently talked with her a lot."  He ate another bite and put it down, wiping his mouth off with his hand.  "Thanks, Stan."

"Welcome, Xander."  He looked at the officers.  "Anything else?"

"No, sir.  We mostly needed to know the connection between the two."

"She was my ex-girlfriend who was going around killing people like my former friends to work her way up to killing them.  I caught her.  I helped stop her.  She came to see if I was really happy and if David was helping me."

"What did your friends do?"

"None.  Of.  Your.  Business," Xander said firmly.  "That's my past life.  They were there when I got the combat experience listed in my file.  Anything else?"  They shook their heads.  "Then thank you, gentlemen.  You didn't raise my blood pressure that much."  They nodded and left.  Xander took his blood pressure with the new checky machine and wrote it down with why he was taking it off schedule.  He looked at Stan.  "Not too bad."

"Good.  You need anything?"

"I'm good."  He grinned and kicked at him lightly.  "Thanks for the food."

"You're welcome.  Turnbull suggested you might need to nibble tonight."  He got up and stretched. "I'm off to deal with Vecchio some more."  He headed out, going back to the station.  He stopped in downstairs.  "David, I brought him a salad with chicken.  He was questioned gently by IA about that girl who was his ex, he said it didn't raise his blood pressure any."  David looked at him. "I stayed for it. They were nice and calm about it."

"Thank you.  A salad?  Xander?"

Stan grinned.  "Sarah wouldn't eat it for him and it was the only food he had beside him."

"That's fine.  I'll get him a good sandwich for lunch.  Thanks, Stan."

"Welcome, buddy."  He headed up the stairs two at a time, smirking at Welsh.  "Xander's still fine.  I brought him a salad."

"He eats those?"

"He had to.  Doc said he can't have anything good, salty, chocolatey, or fattening.  IA was there about the freak woman.  They were calm and gentle so I stayed for that."

"I don't mind.  Where are you standing on this debate?"

"He's not a field tech, he shouldn't have to.  Besides, if anyone doesn't need it, Xander don't.  He's proven he won't have a problem."

"Good point.  The union's talking about a sick out by the CSI if they try this.  That would about cripple us."

"Maybe," Stan agreed dryly.  "Some would still get caught for a while, but we'd never see our desks through all the paperwork."

Welsh nodded.  "That was my thinking too."  He went back into his office to think.  He wanted his people to be trained but the academy wasn't going to help most CSI.  Gun safety and survival and shooting lessons maybe, but not the full academy.  Most of them didn't want to be cops, that's why they were lab techs.  He decided to call someone who could advise him.  After all, if Xander went to Jim Brass for advice, he had to know something.  He called him, leaning back in his chair since it was on speaker.

"Brass."

"Jim, it's Lieutenant Welsh in Chicago."

"What happened to Xander?" he asked, sounding really worried.

"Basically?  A blood pressure spike.  The Chief of Detectives all but ordered him to go to the academy.  He's trying to get the rules changed.  Xander threw a fit and I caught his eye before he could shoot him but he was taken to the ER by David because his blood pressure was in the three hundreds."

"Ouch," he hissed.  "He okay?"

"Fine.  They put him on meds.  He's on his couch eating a salad Kowalski brought him.  David's downstairs.  Xander assured him he would sue.  The union's going off.  I was hoping you had an idea about a sidestep.  Since Xander comes to you for advice and all."

Brass made a humming noise.  "Make it non mandatory, but make some classes mandatory.  Like the field tech's classes."

"It's all the same here."

"It mostly is here too but they still get a few classes in that alone.  Look at what you think is necessary and make it so those who are already hired have three years to complete them.  The gun safety lectures, the field processing, and the lectures in basic street survival should be more than enough for all of them.  They have to pass the tests anyway, right?"

"Yeah, and Xander did.  He also pointed out most of our people couldn't go to the academy, they wouldn't be accepted."

"Neither would most of ours," he agreed.  "Work around it sideways and make it so they only have to take a few things.  It'd be good for the union and your people get shot at enough, the same as ours do.   Oh, tell Xander Sanders is fine.  It was only a minor graze this time."

"Again?"

"Same person.  She escaped and came after him."  He chuckled.  "Grissom is giving me a dirty look for those suggestions."

"What does he suggest?"

"The field processing and the ones for basic survival.  He said he didn't want to think about all those angry techs with guns."

Welsh laughed at that.  "Thanks, Brass."

"Welcome.  Tell him I said to get better.  I want a letter soon."

"Sure.  I'll check on him later anyway.  Bye."  He hung up and called his union rep.  "I just talked to some CSI and detectives in another city and I got a suggestion from them.  No, Vegas since we're tied so closely."  He raised an eyebrow.  "You mean like how they filled in during our manpower thing?  Or how Hodges and Harris came from there?  Or how we borrowed two of their people for that last serial thing?"  He smirked.  "I thought so.  No, I talked to Jim Brass and he was talking with Gil Grissom, who's graveyard supe out there.  They suggested that if something does happen that the lab techs get the field processing lectures and the basic survival stuff.  Brass suggested basic gun safety stuff too but Grissom thought they might use it on us when they get frustrated.  They suggested for those who've already been hired, give them about three years to comply.  The new ones get it automatically."  He listened while they talked.  "How about lectures?  Continuing education crap?  The detectives could use it too and the academy can run it between classes."

He smirked.  "I thought that'd overjoy you guys.  No, he's fine.  Now.  He had to go to the ER, his husband thought he was having a stroke.  Yeah, husband.  Yes, he's male.  Yeah, I knew Xander was gay.  I went to his wedding.  I saw him when he and David were trying to stay just friends.  He's still a good guy and he's the sort who doesn't need the lectures.   Ask the SWAT guys about that.  Or better yet, go find his file with SWAT, it should be very informative."  His smirk got meaner.  "Sure.  Thanks.  No, her date broke her leg.  She knew Xander could dance, was charming, and she was safe with him.  What attempted kidnaping?  Oh, that.  Well, at least they foiled it.  She offered to make him Canadian with the added enticement of Constable Turnbull to be his if he wanted.  Nah, we don't have a problem with him being gay.  Most of us here went to his wedding and we've seen those two bein' mushy in the halls for lunch.

"Yeah, well, Xander's a bit unique and his husband David is good.  They're the best investment this city has ever made.  He's almost always up to date, he's fast, he's accurate, and he's more than willing to do overtime now and then.  He's got skills in multiple areas and he's now teaching an intern from what I hear.  Sure.  No, he's great.  His first year evaluation was excellent.  Eighty percent."  He grinned.  "Yeah, well, better'n half my guys who're straight.  I almost suggested it to some of them.  No, no problems.  One guy got popped in the mouth for it and he said he had started it.  Another guy tried something and Xander proved he was the better CSI by doing his job and his own.  So no, we've got no problems with it.  The mayor likes him too."  He hung up on the laughter in the background and the shocked silence from his rep.  "Yeah, we need to keep that kid.  He makes others insane but do their jobs well. Maybe the duck brothers could use some encouragement to date.  Kowalski's work has gotten better since he started dating too.  Though I don't think I'll suggest just that particular method.  I can't see those two going out."

***

Xander answered the door, looking at the delivery guy.  "What's that?"

"Xander Harris?"  He nodded, taking the held out bunch of flowers in the crystal vase.  "Sign please?"  He let Xander put down the flowers and sign the pad.  "Thank you, sir.  No tip needed," he said with a smile.

Xander closed the door and picked up the flowers, taking them to the kitchen table.  He looked at the card, smiling at it.  "Hey, my union rep's okay with me being gay.  That's good."  He called David, getting a breathless panting.  "You all right or are we making Stan's threesome a foursome?"  David laughed and explained he had run back in there to answer the phone.  "No, our union rep said it was good that we're gay and that he congratulated us on our wedding.  He sent us flowers.  They're in the kitchen.  On the table," he replied, rolling his eyes.  "Sure.  Have fun.  How's my rookie?"  He grinned. "Good!  Wonderful even!"  He beamed.  "I'm being good.  I promise.  Yes, I'll try to make Anya go away again.  Love you too."  He hung up and went to grab the stuff for the purification ritual, heading out to the garage.  He saw the other spirits and shrugged.  "Got a good way to get rid of Anya?  David's getting mad at her again."  They both shrugged.  "Huh.  Let me go look online.  Maybe I can find something."  He went back inside to go surf the web, checking his email as well.  He found one from Dawn and grinned, it was a few days old so he answered it.  She was doing well in the Vo Tech she had chosen.  He was very proud of her.  He asked her about the ghosts too.  Maybe she'd know.  She was a witch after all.

***

Xander walked back into the station, pouting a bit.  He looked at the desk sergeant.  "I hate blood pressure medicine."

"Well, don't throw so many fits and you won't have those problems."

Xander snorted.  "It's not my fits that cause it, it's other's fits of stupidity."  He headed down the stairs and Mort looked at him, smiling a bit.  "Yes, I'm back.  I am wonderful, but I'm switching medicines or not taking them after next week.  The side effects suck."  He walked back to his lab, looking around.  "Hey, we're clear," he said happily.  His intern walked in. "Pull the ten cases you were most unsure about and let me see the reports and the bullets.  That way I can do a check."

"You're sure you want them?"

"Yup.  That'll be what I'll do until we get new stuff tonight."  He sat down with the repots and the bullets to check over his work, nodding at most of it.  After the third one he looked at him.  "A bit wordy on the reports.  Try to make it simple, plain English.  Most of the detectives don't want to read a textbook, even though most of them can.  Some of them can't though."

"I eased up later on," he promised, watching him read and check notes.  Xander put two aside and he frowned.  "What did I do?"

"That depends on if you messed up the bullets now or then."

"Now," he admitted.  "All those were gunless cases."

"That's fine, kid."   He went back to reading and looked at those, checking them extra carefully.  They were correct and the reports were correct.  They had just been put in the wrong order.  "Good work.  Again, a bit wordy, but you'll get used to that.  Remember, detectives are overworked and they live on caffeine.  Write like you're explaining to a stupid person instead of to Fraser."

The rookie nodded.  "I can do that.  Smaller words?"

"Yeah, just generally more readable.  Which isn't a problem.  I had it too," he promised with a faint grin.  "You'll get better with more practice.  Just remember, some cops were football players and some were smart.  You have to make it so the dumb ones can read the reports too."  He beamed and nodded at that.  "Good work though.  How were your days by yourself?"

"I called Crissy a few times and she walked me through a few things I wasn't certain of.  How do you distinguish by sight what a gun is?"

"Usually they've got the name on them.  Also, you'll find a lot of grips are different by company in the same class.  It's something you get a feel for as you get deeper into the field.  I used to take my manual to the pawn shops and work on the identification stuff in there.  It made a lot of them laugh and a few get pissed but I pointed out I didn't care if they were hot or not, just what they were. I went to gun shows and did the same thing, making many mistakes but the guys mostly laughed it off when I told them what I was working on.  A few of them suggested Brewer's manual instead of the FBI one, it was more readable with better pictures.  It's also about a three hundred dollar book."  The kid nodded.  "That you can order through almost any bookstore but if you do it online you might be put onto a watch list by the FBI.  If they ask, tell them why."

"Yes, Xander.  Can I use your first name?"

"Sure, Paul."  The kid smirked at him.  "Don't forget, I'm horrible with names.  I'll probably call you Ray within a few days."  He looked over as Mort and David came in.  "I'm not taking it anymore.  It's being bad to my body."

"It's not," David said impatiently.

"I wasn't hard when I got up.  It is."

David quirked an eyebrow up.  "I'll call the doc tomorrow to see if you can get it changed."  He gave him a gentle kiss and Xander smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better.  Why?  You've got that devious Snape look that draws me like honey.  Or possibly a Malfoy."

David laughed.  "They reached a compromise.  We can take some lectures and do it without the academy."

"I have time for lectures?"

"There's a weekend of them," David said patiently.  "We can go to four of them and have fun with it.  You can probably sleep through gun safety but I can't."

"I can teach you that, honey."

"I know.  We'll do it anyway.  There's only ten lectures and we can get them done within a year.  They're mostly one night things."  Xander nodded at that.  "Is that a good compromise?"

"I'd prefer more than a year."

"We only have to take them every five."

"Then I'm satisfied," he admitted.  He stole another kiss, then a longer one.  "Paul here did very well while I was gone."

"I checked over his shoulder.  He had to," David said smugly.  He backed away.  "You're clear?"  He nodded and beamed. "Good.  Wanna come help me?  I've only got a few tape lifts to do."

"Sure."  He grinned at Mort.  "Did I miss the meeting?"

"No, almost no one's in tonight."  He shrugged.  "It was a slow day and it's dry cleaning day it seems like.  They'll be in later.  Go help David if you're clear.  Paul can take dictation for me."  He tugged the rookie up.  "Unfortunately I can't type worth a damn.  So you all get to rotate out."

"That's fine, sir.  I don't mind.  I type about sixty words a minute."

Xander went to help Hodges, happily going back to work.  "Only ten lectures?"

"Yes, only ten.  Six are on field processing.  Gun safety, and three on basic survival and safety."

"Huh, that's good.  I can pass all those with my eyes closed."

"Just no pulling a Tackleyberry in gun safety."

"Yes, dear. I won't bring in the pretty and big gun."  He beamed at him.  "Did you pick up my paycheck?"

"I did and it's already in the bank.  Your raise started this paycheck."  Xander beamed happily.  "I've also paid the mortgage and set it up on autodraft.  I got my raise as well."  Xander squealed and hugged him.  "I'd ask to celebrate but with that happening..."

"I can still make you happy," Xander assured him, "and you can be on top."  He gave him a deeper kiss.  "I'm so proud."

"Thanks.  Now back to work.  No snuggling in the lab.  You know better."

"Yes, dear."  They both looked up when they heard the scream.  The floor still wasn't fully fixed on their side.  "Huh."

"Yeah," David sighed.  "Going to run up there?"

"Why?  Do you know how many cops are up there?"  David gave him a look.  "I'm not giving him any added incentive to try to send me.  I'm not going to the academy.  I don't like it, I don't need it, and I certainly don't need PT."

"You're in very good physical shape," David agreed happily.  "I appreciate it quite a lot."

"Would you fags shut up, you're making me sick," drifted down through the ceiling.

"I'll be right back," Xander said quietly, heading up the stairs.  He came up the top, looking at the officer coming out of the bathroom.  "Was that you who was so rude?" he asked politely.  He sneered and Xander got in his way.  "Was it?  I'd hate to hit the wrong person."

"It wasn't but I agree."

"Harris!" Welsh snapped.

"Proving a point on manners, Lieutenant," he said cheerfully.

"Vecchio, go get the other moron and bring him in here with that one," Welsh ordered.  "You too, Xander."

"Yes, sir."  He walked that way, leaning on the filing cabinets.

"You need ta sit?"

"No, I'm pretty decent, I just hate the side effects."

"Why, can't get it up?  Is your AIDS medicine wrecking your raping lifestyle?" one sneered.

Xander looked at Welsh.  "Permission?"

"Denied."

"Yay."  Xander glared then casually backhanded him.  "No, honey.  I'm not sick.  Though you know what they say about homophobes and the closet. You really should come out soon."  He looked at the other one.  "As for you.  You wanna back up his insults?"  He shook his head quickly.  "You sure?  After all, I'm a ballistics tech, not a real cop.  I'm sure you think you can take me since I'm on blood pressure medicine."  The cop got up and took a swing at him so Xander pummeled him, following him down onto the floor.  Ray came in to pick him up and he stopped, then calmly leaned on the filing cabinet again.  "Now then," he said as politely as before, even still smiling down beatifically at them.  "How does it feel to have your asses kicked and nearly killed by a gay man?  Did you enjoy it?  Because my brothers and sisters that make up ten percent of the population are quite strong enough to keep going if you need to.  Remember, we teach your kids."  They glared and backed out.

"Oh, no, get your asses back here," Welsh ordered coldly.  "I do not allow this shit!"  He glared at Xander.  "You know better."

"I feel much better now."

"Wonderful," he said coolly.  "Aren't you on bedrest?"

"First day back and look what happens.  Oh, David said my raise came through.  Thank you.  Only a month later than expected."  Welsh glared some more and he beamed at him.  "I love you too, Lieutenant."  He looked behind him as the head of SWAT came in.  "More for me?"

"Nope.  I'm under orders not to ever bother you again."

"I can still do bombs," he complained.

"Not if you're having blood pressure problems."

Xander glared at him then pointed at the cops.  "Do they look like I am?"

"Well, no," he admitted, looking at them.  He sneered.  "Made fun of him for having a husband who makes him more normal?"  They whimpered and moaned.  He looked at Xander again.  "You okay?"

"Small spike due to the Chief of Detectives.  I'm better now and I'll be off my meds soon."

"I doubt it," Ray told him.

Xander looked at him.  "I didn't get a morning hard on.  I'm not taking them any more."

Ray blinked a few times.  "More than I wanted to know, Xander."

"Yay," he offered with a bright grin.  "I'd rather die than give up sex."  He looked at the idiots.  "So you know, I've had women, they were boring.  I've had women that could have been sexual demons and they were still boring.  They don't like it as hard as I do.  Then again, David's a wonderful man.  He makes sure I don't step over the line and kill bigots like you two.  You should really send him a card.  Really."  They whimpered.  "So, do I get tonight off too?" he asked Welsh.

"Hell no!  Go back downstairs and stay there."

"Yes, sir.  I'll go help David."

"You're not backed up?"

"No, the intern did okay.  I'm clear," he offered with a grin.  "I did a random check of ten and they were correct."

"Good, go over this one with him," Welsh said, handing over a file.  "I want verification before the DA makes a deal."

"Sure."  He walked off, reading the file, listening to Welsh tell them how stupid they were.  He saw the shift supervisor looking at his watch and around. "If you're looking for the two who sucked the moron signal tower into themselves to ride the hard way, they're being yelled at and handed ice packs," he said as he walked past him.

"What did they do?"

"Picked on David."  He gave him a look.  "Made fun of my blood pressure medicine too.  I stopped."  He smiled.  "They really should send David a card for keeping me sane and on the side of good."

The supervisor nodded.  He'd heard about this one and his temper, and how he taught manners to some very unmannerly people.  "They should," he agreed.  "Thank you, CSI Harris. I'm sure they've learned their lessons after being beaten by a gay man."

"Technically bi, but I like David more than I ever did any woman.  He suits me and keeps me sane," he sighed happily, heading down the stairs.

The Supervisor went up to help Welsh yell, slamming the door after walking into the office to put in his own two cents about why you did not do that in *his* precinct and especially not to Harris.

***

David looked up as he got a card and a nice plant, taking it and signing for it.  "What's this for?" he asked the officer bringing it down.

"I don't know, sir.  Is it true you and Harris are married?"  David nodded.  "Congratulations, sir.  We like you keeping him sane.  It's a good job you do for the city.  We all appreciate you helping him be normal and sane."  He smiled and left.

David sat down at his desk to check the plant, adding a bit of water to it since it looked dry, and opened his card to read.  He looked at the connecting wall.  "I'd run, Xander!"

"I'm a good boy."

"I doubt it.  I'd run!"  He heard Xander take off and groaned, going to hand the card to Mort and chase his errant spouse.  He would make him sane some day soon, before more things like this happened.  The officers all pointed the way.  "Thanks.  He's running to save his ass this time."

"No sex in the parking lot, CSI Hodges.  Try the left side, there's a nice shadow there," one suggested.

"I'm not planning on giving him pleasure.  I'm going to spank him."  He walked out and saw Greg, raising an eyebrow at his crutches.  "Back again?"

"I hate life."  He pointed.  "He's hiding in my back seat and I locked the doors.  Electronic locks."  He handed over his keys and smiled.  "I'll wait downstairs.  We had one of yours come our way so I'm here to pick up stuff."  He hopped that way.

David got into his car, going to pull Xander out and spank him this time.  "Why am I keeping you sane?"

"Because you're so good at it," Xander said, trying to wiggle away.  David spanked him and he yelped, getting away finally, rubbing his butt.  "I'm going to tell Ray."

"How many chocolate frogs did you eat?" he demanded, getting out and shutting the door, but then going back for the dog and carrying him with him while the keyring remote locked the doors.

"Four," Xander said hesitantly, backing away.

"Try again."

"Teen?"  He turned and ran back inside, heading down to cower in Mort's office.

David stomped back inside, shaking his head.  "Too much chocolate.  He can't have any more."  He walked in and slammed the door, handing Greg his dog.  "Here.  Where is he?"  Greg pointed with a small grin.  "Fourteen frogs!"

Mort came out of the autopsy room.  "He did what?"

"Fourteen chocolate frogs."

"Xander!  Go to the gym and wear it out," he ordered, pointing when Xander slunk out of his office.  "I mean it."  He nodded, going that way.  Mort sighed and looked at Greg.  "Another injury?"

"Car crash."  He pouted. "One of yours came our way.  I'm here to pick up case files."  He handed over the paperwork.  "Should I hold him for David?"

"No, I already spanked him once," David said dryly, glaring at the doorway.  Stan walked in and then walked back out.  "You, how many chocolate frogs did you have?"

"One," Stan said, eyes wide.  "Xan?"

"Fourteen."

"I'll go find him and help him wear that out," he promised, going to do that.

"With friends like these, who needs enemies?" David complained.  "Stan feeds him chocolate, Ray lets him get upset, and Welsh about cranks it up until he dies."

"You know, I always thought that saying was about enemas, not enemies," a female voice said from the doorway.

David turned and pulled out the gun Xander had given him, shooting her in the stomach.  "Dumbass," he snorted, then glared for a moment before getting back to work.  He hated stalkers.  Especially Xander's.  Xander was his, all his, and how dare any woman try to keep him.  He felt the urge to let out an evil chuckle but suppressed it.  He couldn't let anyone know that he had these sort of urges, they'd start to think Xander had tainted him too.

Strange Ballistics.

Notes:  Yes, I broke.  This idea came to me during a bath and wouldn't leave me alone.  Sorta like the horrible romance story I just got that won't leave me alone.  This is still NOT a series.

"Vecchio, Kowalski," Welsh yelled from his doorway.

"Out!" Huey yelled back.  "Just left."

"Wonderful.  Just wonderful.  Feds come for them to talk to them about a set of cases and they duck out."

"It's not like they knew," Huey protested.  "Hold on, Feds?  What cases?"  Welsh glared at him.  "Sorry, I was hoping I could help."

"You can help by clearing your desk once in a while.  Also, you're going to be doing more.  They're getting the bad cases now.  The Feds like them, that's why they're getting the horrible cases and why you're getting stuck doing their work.  And, no, no Mounties this time.  Call them and have them come back."

"Fraser's with them."

"Yay.  I doubt he understands serial killers."  He walked into his office and slammed the door.  "Those two have Fed-sensing abilities, I'm sure they knew, that's why they ducked out."  He called downstairs.  "Harris, get them back here and follow them with Hodges.  You're being reassigned to help with a serial case.  Do I care?" he snorted.  "Fine, tell Mort I said that."  He hung up and waited.  The two techs trudged up the stairs and Kowalski followed a few minutes later.  Vecchio skipped up them until he saw the looks then he paused and looked afraid. "Get in here!" he yelled.  They all trudged into his office.  "You probably don't know this yet, but the Feds have decided there's a connection between ten open cases in this city and a new serial killer."

"Just our city?" Hodges asked.

"Yeah, so far."  He looked at them.  "You three, and David for his calmness and level-headed nature, are handling it according to them.  If you whine, I will have to make you do this in addition to other cases."  Both detectives winced.  "They're expecting you at their building within the next hour or else they'll come pounce us here."

"Oh, man," Xander complained.  "I don't care.  I don't work in the field since that stupidity started."

"Tough," Welsh said.  "You're too damn good and too experienced.  You're doing it and the day people are going to fill in for normal cases."

David shook his head.  "Not unless you're getting Crissy out of the L&D department at the university and mine out of a grave from her recent car wreck."  Welsh looked stunned.  "No day shift now, boss.  We have to rehire again."

"Damn it," he muttered.  "Fine.  This has your top priority, borrow from somewhere else or get an intern or something."

"It'll take more time to train an intern," Xander complained.  "I had to hand-hold my last one for at least a week.  There's constant checking over their shoulders and things.  It's more trouble with a major case going on than not."

"I don't care how you do it, just do it," Welsh told him.

"Fine and you call the DA's and tell them you said so," he retorted, glaring at him.  "I'm not having a heart attack or a stroke for this department again."

"Harris," Welsh growled.  "I didn't give this order.  Go yell at them."

"Fine," he growled back, "but I'm going to chew asses this time."  Welsh waved a hand.  "Thank you.  Where and with who?"

"Hell if I know.  They said Ford was involved but in a minor way.  I have no clue why *you* since it doesn't involve ballistics."

Stan looked at Xander.  "So, it's either because you helped on that last one….."

"Or because it involves strange crap," David finished blandly.  "Wanan take bets?"

"Nope," Xander sighed.  "Which cases are we pulling and bringing?"  Welsh handed over the faxed list.  He looked it over, then at his boss, then at Vecchio.  "You've had three sorcerers, a high priest, and a Santeria priestess as part of your caseload and I didn't hear a complaint about the strange crap I brought with me?"  Vecchio snatched the list and then glared at him.  "They are.  I know they are."

"How do you know they are?"

"I did some research before I came.  I wanted to find out who I'd have to duck and where I should run.  Besides, Rennie likes the Santeria priestess.  She's nice to him and makes him cookies."

"Is that who gave him those?" Stan demanded.  Xander nodded.  "How did they meet?"

"Fraser."

"I'm gonna kill 'em both tonight," he complained, taking the list to go pull files.  They all went into a box and then he grabbed David, talking quietly with him about how to handle this strangeness.  Xander could do some leading but he was going to be odd long before this was over with.  David agreed and assured him that he could probably keep Turnbull out of it so he wouldn't turn into a bigger, buffer, blonder version of Xander for real.  They grabbed the other two and took them off, letting Ray drive the Riv since it had more room.

Xander sat in the back, looking over the cases, frowning a bit.  "Muggings?  A serial mugger?"

"Most of those probably had other problems too," Stan pointed out.  "Xander.  Look at me."  Xander looked up.  "Turnbull is not helping."

"Sure, Rennie can go hunt if I can't next weekend."  He went back to looking.  "None of these are dead people cases but the sorcerer Mackley."

"Who?" Ray asked.

"Dead white guy on a street corner, apparently died of a heart attack, no reason found during autopsy.  Dead two blocks from the consulate?" he suggested, hoping he'd remember.

"That narrows it down to two or three," Ray admitted.

"Um, dead white guy wearing the big pentacle tattoo."

"Oh, him.  Yeah, I kinda remember him.  We put it down as natural causes.  He's still unclaimed I think.  You might check with your boss."   He pulled up outside the Federal building and into the parking garage, stopping at the guard.  "We were called for.  Detectives Vecchio and Kowalski with CSI Hodges and Harris?"

"I've got three of you on my list," he admitted, looking it over.  "I don't have CSI Hodges."

"He's our admin person," Xander said tiredly.  "It's so I don't go postal on someone for making me do the work of four people this time."  The guard nodded and let them in.  Xander got out with the box, heading for the elevator.  "Reception?"

"Probably a good idea," Stan called, walking to catch up to him.  "Rennie's not hunting."

"Xander shouldn't be."

"If I don't, we'll never thin the pack and then we'll have to deal with a bunch of dead bodies no one wants to explain."  The elevator opened and a female agent, by the suit she was wearing, gave him an odd look.  "What?" he demanded.  She flinched and backed into the corner so he got on, holding it for everyone else.  "Reception?" he suggested.  She pushed the button and got off before they could.  Xander walked up to the receptionist and pulled his ID, showing it to her.  "We were summoned by the forces of stupidity and those who can't research online?"

She looked at her notes, then at him.  "Well, he can, but he stated he wanted an expert opinion because he's lost.  Something about ritual murders."  She handed them visitor passes, taking David's ID information down and handing him one.  "Third floor, gentlemen, the oak paneled meeting room.  Look for a pacing Agent Ford; he's there to liaison with you since you apparently like him."

"I do?" Ray asked.  "Since when?"

"I can stand him, he doesn't play dumb and he stays out of my way," Xander admitted.  "Besides, he's not into heroics or anything.  I haven't seen him out trying to hunt now that he knows."  He headed for the stairs, needing to work off some energy before he pummeled someone.  He found the room first and whistled, bringing the others.  The box was handed over and Xander looked at the agents.  "Let me make something clear up front.  I'm already doing the work of three people.  David's here to help make sure I survive this and to do the clear, level-headed part of the operation.  Don't fuck with my husband and I won't turn you into wolf chow.  Got it?" he asked with a sweet smile.

"Sure," Ford agreed.  "He keeps you calm, we like your husband, Harris.  Detectives," he greeted, putting the box down.  "I'm here to liaison since I have a clue.  A very small clue and I'm totally lost.  You're here because you do serial cases well and you can think around problems, plus you've got a small clue.  Harris is here because he's got more than a small clue. These other agents are going to brief, then disappear to get drunk somewhere where they don't have to think about it after finding the scene this morning.  Sit?  Anyone want coffee or anything?"

"Xander's not allowed any more caffeine today," David said firmly.  He sat down and looked at the files Ford handed over, then winced and handed them directly to Xander.  "Magical marking?"

"Very," he agreed dryly, looking at it.  "I need some of my old reference books and I don't have them," he admitted.  He looked up at the agents.  "I need to see someone in Cleveland about them.  Can I pass on the picture?  They're probably at risk too."

"If you must, but it must be kept confidential.  It could cause a panic," one of the other agents noted calmly.

Xander looked at him.  "Not with what my group used to do.  No panicking, just sighs of frustration and 'not again's muttered into coffee and soda cups."  He looked at the photo again.  "I have no idea what a phoenix means beyond rebirth.  It'll take me a few days.  Any indication that this is going to be repeated?"

"You tell us," Ford told him.

Xander groaned and put down his head.  "I need to go to Cleveland.  Tonight.  Someone clear that with Welsh."

"How are you planning on going?" David asked.  "So I know which card not to use and not to have a heart attack at seeing the bill."

"I looked into flying over to see Dawnie and Mandy, but it wasn't that bad," Xander soothed.  "The cheapest was a hundred one way, about one-fifty for both.  The worst was only about three hundred."  David raised an eyebrow.  "Think about how much I spent going back and forth during my internship.  Chicago to Vegas is more expensive."  He stood up, taking the rest of that folder.  "Okay.  You guys turn this over to us.  I'll go there, be back probably late tomorrow.  Then we'll have a meeting.  If there's anything new coming, I want to be told first.  Are these all the photos?"  Ford tossed him a USB storage key.  "Thanks.  Love you too.  I'll see you guys tomorrow sometime.  Tell Welsh I had to head back to the land of books."  He kissed David.  "Have fun."

"Leave the folder, Harris.  The key has all of that," Ford offered.

"Sure."  He handed the file over and left, heading out to catch a cab.  He turned in his visitor's pass and headed for the airport, shaking his head the whole way.

"You in trouble?" the cabbie asked.

"No, I'm a CSI and I just got recruited to help profile."  The cabbie snorted.  "Not my field at all, man."

"Domestic or international?"

"I'd love to go international but my mate would freak out and hunt me down.  Unfortunately I'm going to Ohio."  The cabbie nodded and pulled into that terminal.  Xander paid him and got out, heading for the desks.  He saw the computer and checked prices, finding the next flight out was the most expensive, but if he wanted to wait another hour, he could take the cheaper one.  He went to book that, pulling out his checkbook.

"Sir, are you armed?" the desk girl asked chipperly.  Xander looked at her, then pulled his ID card, showing it to her and taking off his guns to hand over.  She smiled and boxed them up, and he only corrected her a few times when she didn't check them for chambered rounds.  She gave him a hurt look.  "You can't do that?"

"If you leave it chambered, it can go off," he instructed.  "That would be a bad thing."   She nodded and let it go at that, doing everything for him.  He took his ticket.  "Thanks, ma'am.  I'll see you on the way back."

"Why aren't you staying, sir?"

"I'm going to pick up some research materials.  With any luck I won't need thirty pounds of books."  He shrugged and headed for the security scanners, showing his ID.  "I'm a ballistics tech, I'm covered in GSR," he told them.

"It won't pick up residue, sir," the screener assured him.  The machine beeped and set off an alarm.  "Or maybe I'm wrong."  He looked over at the guys running.  "He's a ballistics tech."

Xander looked at them.  "I warned them," he offered as they pulled him out of line and patted him down, taking his pocket knife.  "I thought I handed that over with my firearm," he said, frowning at it.  They did the hand wand and he was released.  "Can I have it back?"

"No, but you can ship it home."

"Sure, ship it to the twenty-seventh precinct, care of CSI Hodges.  Thanks, guys."  They nodded, writing that down and he went on.  He needed a burger very badly.  Very, very badly.  Maybe if he gorged now, he could puke later in front of his former friends.  Or possibly on his former friends.  His flight was called and he boarded with his bag of lunch, settling into his seat.  He patted himself down and muttered a swear, getting up to look at the seat.  The USB key wasn't there either.  He looked at the stewardess.  "Can you call security?  I think I left my USB key device there."

"You did.  It's at the gate," she said, getting out of his way.  He trudged that way and came back, taking his burgers back from the woman looking in the bag.  The stewardess smiled at him.  "Going home?"

"Going to be tortured by former friends," he muttered, flopping down again.  This time the key went into his front pocket so he wouldn't lose it.  The woman in the next seat stared at him.  "I'm with the PD, lady.  I'm hungry."

"Oh."  She looked up as the doors closed and someone in a flak jacket was standing there.  "Being escorted?"

"Oh, fuck," he said, standing up.  He and the officer stared at each other.  "I'm on a fed case.  Mine was checked."

"That's fine, CSI Harris.  I've got her."  He smiled.  "Got any extras?"  Xander tossed him a burger and sat down again.

The woman looked back at the empty spot, then at her keeper.  "Who was that?"

"CSI Harris.  He's one of our top ballistics techs.  He's also on call for SWAT when we need him.  So if you run, he'll kill you painfully and slowly for me."  He smiled at her.  "Okay?"  She nodded slowly, leaving it there.  "Good girl."  He buckled her in then sat down to nibble on the burger.  He had needed a snack anyway.

"You're a cop?" the woman next to Xander asked.

"No, I'm a ballistics tech.  I'm a lab person.  I only get to shoot at the annoying ones who try to keep me from finding out it was them."  He dug into his lunch again, eating to keep from talking to her.  He hated planes.  He really hated planes that had seatmates.

***

Xander walked into the current version of the Magic Box and paused, looking over at Giles.  He knew he had killed the man but he was apparently back.  He suspected a certain slayer whining at the Powers again but one never knew if certain witches had gotten there first.  Then again, he was human and if Willow had done it on her own he'd still be a vamp.  So maybe he was wrong.  "It's a federal case," he admitted, walking over with the USB key.  "We've had some sorcerers and priests and stuff killed.  I'm here to mooch books."

"You can't even say hello?  Ask how we've been?"

"I've talked to Dawn."  Giles flinched and Xander stared him down.  "Yeah, me too."  He smirked at the squeal, dodging the grabbing arms.  "Do not do that!" he complained.  "Damn it, I'm still battle ready."  Willow pouted at him and he stared her down.  "I'm one of two hunters in Chicago, Willow.  I trained the other one."  She shuddered.  "Exactly.  And I get to do SWAT now and then too."  He smirked at her.  "It's a federal case.  I need books on the ritual they're doing."  He handed her the USB key.  "I got conscripted since they figured out I had a clue."

"Let me look," she said happily, giving him a hug.  "You can tell us all the gossip."

"Sure.  I need something on how to make Anya leave my husband alone too."  He looked at Giles.  "Did she send over pictures from the wedding?  She said she was going to."

"I was surprised I wasn't invited."

"You'd have gotten hives and she was there with the baby, Giles.  I didn't need that shouting match that day."  He nodded, accepting that.  "Besides, you're the one who said not to invite you to those sort of things."

"You could have invited us," Buffy said, sounding hurt.

"Sure, and I could have hired some extra security to keep you and Dawn apart too," Xander reminded her, staring her down.  She shivered.  "I'm taking Dawn's side in that, Buffy.  If I had a local source there, I'd be at home and ready to nap with my husband."

"You're gay?"

He nodded.  "Yeah, appears so."

"But you weren't gay before.  You dated a stripper."

"Who turned out to be a serial killer.  She was killing blondes and redheads."  Buffy flinched again.  "Now, I'm on short sleep," he offered.  "I've got to get back, be the paranormal and mojo guy on this case, and save the rest of the abnormal portion of Chicago.  By the way, it took me nearly a day to fix that door you kicked in."  She shuddered and walked off.

"She kicked your door in?" Willow asked.  "Why?"

"Trying to get Dawn's child."

"Oh."  She went back to her searching.  "So, you're doing what now?  I know you went to college and stuff to work in a lab.  Which totally blew my mind.  You did sucky in science, Xander."

"I'm a ballistics tech, I deal in guns," he said dryly, leaning against the front of the counter.  "I'm the guy who tells you which guy shot which person and what gun the bullets came from.  I'm basically on-call for the strange and unusual.  I'm also training a Mountie how to hunt so I don't always have to, though his boyfriend is not happy with him."

"You know a lot of gay people?" Willow asked, looking over at him.  "How?  Like a union or a club or a dating pool?"

"I work with his boyfriend; he's one of the detectives I work with.  David, my husband, was there during my internship.  He was doing my Trace portion and we stuck together through a lot. I finally proposed this year and we got married about three months ago.  Before it I got to paintball a bunch of bigots, but it was a nice ceremony.  If you ask Dawn, she'll send you guys copies of the pictures."

"I have a set," Giles said quietly.  "Are you all right, Xander?  You seem…upset."

Xander gave him a look and he stepped back.  "Giles, what was said on my last day with the group?"  The door opened and Ray walked in.  "You couldn't call?"

"Hell no, you're on the list.  I'm protecting you while you tell me what I'm protecting you from.  Outside of your former fiancé.  Who's just a bit weird for my tastes."  He shook his head.  "Anyway, we got a clue yet?  Stan's throwing a fit and getting Ma into it."

"Rebirth ritual," Willow said, printing something off and handing it over.  "I'll go pull the hardcover books and take down URL's."  She got up and went to do that for them, giving Buffy a pitiful look.  "We did treat him crappy," she said quietly as she pulled down books.

"Yeah, I guess," she sighed.  "How can he side with Dawn?"

"Maybe he thinks your mother would have been nicer to her," she offered.  "Joyce wouldn't have been happy but there wouldn't be a restraining order in place and Dawn would have had some support during it."  She gave her friend a hug.  "I know it's hard, Buffy, but we've got to mend these fences.  We're all mortal and we'll be ghosts with regrets if we don't."

"I won't, Mom wouldn't have stood up for her getting pregnant."

"It was an accident," Willow reminded her.  "You were really mean.  That's why he's sticking up for her, or I think so.  I heard she went to visit him before you went chasing after Mandy."

"Mandy?"

"Your niece," Ray said from behind them.  "How many books?"

"About ten."  She smiled and held one up.  "All about this size."  He shuddered.  "It's got bits and pieces, you won't have to read most of them," she promised, smiling at him.  "Or you can have Xander read them and summarize it for you."

"Sure.  So why are they picking on these guys and why is Xander on the list that was found at the site?"

"If they're going after people who have a clue," Willow offered, "he'd be one.  He's not magical."

"You sure about that?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"Fairly so.  It goes odd around him and he's hated it for a while," she told him.  She found a few more and then one she didn't think they had, flipping through the index.  She put that one down too and got another few on related subjects.  "Sorry, but I forgot to mentally cross-reference.  You can always check them on the plane."  She got him a few boxes and let Buffy load and carry them out to his car, then went to look in another section, pulling down a thin book.  She went to hand that to Xander.  "For Anya."

"I have two other ghosts and I've done a protection and a purification that kept them out of everywhere but the garage and the attic.  I just can't handle having her around.  It hurts and she freaks out David.  She calls him a rabid bunny."

Willow giggled.  "I'm sure he's a sweetie to you."  She kissed him on the cheek.  "Got an email address?"

"Only the one at work."  He handed over his card.  "That's my cell too.  In case it's an emergency with Mandy or something."  She nodded, getting what he wasn't saying, or what she thought he was saying.  "We all booked up?"

"You are," she assured him, smiling brightly.  "I'll go back over the pictures tonight in detail and email you tomorrow if I find anything odd.  I'll send the URL's to related sites then."  She kissed him on the cheek again then patted the other one.  "You behave and let the scary detective watch over you."

"He often does and his mother cooks for me," he said with a smirk.  "I still can't cook."

"You're forbidden to cook," Ray corrected.  "Get it right, Xander.  If you try to cook, I'm arresting you."   He looked at Willow.  "You're not the one he got the odd sports ideas from, right?"  She blushed and shook her head.  "You sure?  It's taken us over a year to make him quit calling football gay sex foreplay in teams."

"No, that was Tara," she squeaked, blushing bright red.  "Mine was the hockey thing I think."

"He used to watch sports with us," Buffy complained.  "Gymnastics and cheerleading and those things."

"Girly sports," Ray snorted.  "Xander's not a girl.   He's a manly man and should have manly views on sports."

"I don't mind watching you play street ball," Xander reminded him.  "You don't play it like it's rough foreplay."

"Xander," he moaned.  "Not tonight."

"Sorry, Ray.   I won't tease you again tonight.  Can we stop and get subs on the way back?"

"You're not staying overnight?" Giles asked.

Xander checked his tickets, then Ray's held out ones.  "Well, we did have plans to fly out tomorrow," he admitted.  "I'm guessing we could hotel it tonight.  Ray?"

"Good with me.  She can call your cell tomorrow to tell you what she found before we leave."  He patted him on the back.  "Come on, let's go find a hotel."

"Sure."

"I have a spare room upstairs," Giles offered.  "That way Xander would be safe and you could work on this with us."

"I'm there to beat the perp up and arrest him, not to do this stuff," Ray told him.  "I'm a very good Catholic boy and this stuff freaks me out."  The door opened and he looked back at the blond man standing there.

Xander looked as well, then at Willow.  "You guys getting punished?"

"Yup," Willow said dryly.  "A lot.  Now I know why you used to tie him to your chair at night."

"Oh, come on, pet, I'm not that bad," Spike said fondly, smirking at the two men.  Then he looked again.  "Whelp?" he asked, looking stunned.  "You're still alive?"  Xander gave him a patient look and nodded.  "How?"

"I survived LA and retired when I graduated to do a real job, Spike.  You?"

"Nah, pet, I got brought back, again," he said smugly, smirking at him.  "Who's the bloke with you?"

"This is Ray Vecchio.  He's one of the detectives I work with."

"You're a cop?" Spike asked, looking stunned.  "Why?"

"I'm a CSI and I enjoy the hell out of it," Xander told him.  "You still a blood sucking fiend with delusions of being grand, great, and funny?"

"Xander," Giles complained.  "He's of great help to us."

"If you say so.  By the way, Spike, I am a poof.  Still gonna try that crap about me not being tasty?"  Spike's eyes went wide and he looked at Ray.

"No, not me," he said quickly, moving out of the way. "My mother would get really pissed with me.  She pouted at the Mounties and Stan when they became a trio."

"She didn't pout at me," Xander assured him.  He smirked at him, then winked, looking at Spike again.  "You didn't know this, but I'm married now.   He's a great guy, smart, witty, casually sarcastic, and it's great sex.  You and Anya should chat on the spirit plane when they stake you."

"Maybe we'll call her back so she can't be tainted," Buffy offered.  "You married a guy?"

"Yeah, David.  I said that earlier, didn't hear?"  She shook her head. She had decided not to understand English for those few moments apparently. Or maybe she had just blocked it out.  "Sorry.  Dawn has pictures from the wedding.  Mandy came up to help with our wine sharing and candle lighting."  She pouted at him.  "Again, I'd have to have hired extra guards to keep you two apart or paintballed one of you two."

Buffy sighed and nodded, going to help Willow.  "Eww, what is that?"

"A serial killer that I'm working to catch," Xander told her.  "That's part of my job, Buffy."

"Eww.  Not even vampires are that gross and sickening."  She walked off shuddering.

Xander looked at Giles.  "We'll be up the street at the Ashbury."

"It's been taken over by vampires," he said grimly.

"Really?  Which family clan?"

"Hydrith's clan.  You'd probably be safe if he remembered his promise to you."  He handed over the phone after dialing it.

Xander beamed at the familiar voice.  "Tyler, my man!"  He beamed at Ray.  "No, an overnight for me and one of my detective buddies.  I'm working in Chicago, man.  No, I'm not quite the only hunter since that slayer went mental and did her aunt, but I'm training the other guy.  No, man, a Mountie.  Great hunter.  Got great stamina and all that too.  Yeah, him, he's my student."  He smirked.  "No, we're looking for a place near Giles' for the night.  Because Spike's here and it'll cut down on the emotional scenes.  Yeah, me and one other guest.  I'll pay for our rooms," he defended.  "You just can't eat us.  Yeah, ask the boss.  Hydrith should remember me fondly, hopefully.  If not, I can always stay at the Hyatt or by the convention center."   He waited and smirked at Ray.  "I saved their butts a few times.  They don't really hunt and some bigger wannabe bad demons were trying to make them party favors."  He listened as a new voice came on.  "No, I was explaining it to Detective Vecchio.  Yeah, I work with him.  No, I'm in Chicago now.  Sure.  Please.  Just as long as we'll be safe."  He smirked.  "No, I got appointed odd and mojo knowledge source for a serial killer case. I'm here to borrow books.  Sure!  Let us stop and get supper on the way.  Maybe an hour.  Because Spike's here."  He chuckled and looked at Spike.  "Hydrith said if you eat me he'll never let you into the bar again."  He listened again.  "Sure.  Nope, he's not mine.  Nor is the blond guy.  Nope, my guy's the one in the silver car.  The one Buffy stole."  He snickered.  "Sure, man.  See you in about an hour.  You can tell Ray what a fuckup I used ta be."  He hung up and grinned at Ray.  "You're in for a small experience but they won't hurt us. Hydrith's pretty cool for a vampire from Europe.  Old school ancient Russian.   Willow?"

"I'll call your cell if I get something else," she said with a fond smirk.  "Stop in before you leave."

"We're going at ten," he told her.

"Eeeeh, never mind."  She shook her head.  "I'm not getting up that early.  I haven't in nearly a year.  You behave and write me back when I write you."  She got up to hug them both, kissing Ray on the cheek.  "Take care of my Xander-shaped friend.  He gets into trouble and I'd miss him if he was turned."

Xander looked at Giles, who shrugged. "The Powers," he said grimly.  "And Willow."

"I thought so."  He shrugged and smirked at her.  "Buffy, want a hug?  I'm leaving."

"No thanks.  I'm still having gay thoughts about you and making myself sick."

"That's your thing, little girl."  He looked at Spike.  "Want one too?"

"Hell no," he snorted.  He looked at Ray.  "I wish you many mental pills for him, mate.  He'll drive you loonier than my ex."  He headed into the back.

Xander looked at Ray.  "Tie a blood sucking fiend into your recliner and make him sleep there for three weeks and they complain forever."  He walked out to his rental car, getting in to drive.  Ray pulled out behind him, and he could only imagine what he was telling himself about staying calm and not beating him.  Then again, Ray was fun to play with.  He always reacted so prettily when Xander was in a teasing mood.  He drove them to the hotel and parked in the empty spots out front, getting out to lean against the side of his car, waiting on Ray to park.  "Should we bring the books up with us?"

"I'd rather not."  He came around to walk behind Xander, nodding politely at their greeting committee.  "Boys."

The vampire in the lead giggled and rushed Xander, hugging him as hard as he could.  "I missed you!" he squealed, pulling back to look at him.  "Look at you!  Someone feeds you now!  I can tell, you've got a bit of softness to all those muscles you used to have."  He looked him over again.  "You've got to tell me everything!"

"Well, first, you were right, I did like ballistics stuff.  I'm a CSI out of Chicago.  Ray's one of the detectives I work with often and one of my buddies.  He came to recruit me and he's been like a favorite daddy person since."  The vampire leered at Ray.  "He's swearing he's straight.  But I'm not.  You were right about that too.  I married David recently."  He took out the photo from the wedding to show him.  "See?  Dawnie was there."  He beamed at the other vampires.  "Sorry, we're catching up."

"Not a problem, Xan-man," one of them offered with a smirk.  "Your boy good to you?"

"Oh, hell yeah," Xander growled.  "The things he does to me are *divine*!"  Ray moaned.  "Sorry, Ray, I won't share details while you're listening.  I know it gives you a headache."  He grinned at him.  Then at the vampires.  "See why he's one of my favorites and I consider him family?  Besides and beyond the fact that his mother feeds me."

"We had to; otherwise you'd have cooked and poisoned more people."

"I was trying to be good and nice," Xander retorted with a smirk.  "I could have made my tuna surprise."

"What's that do?  Kill people by eating 'em?  You made two cops have flaming, burning runs, Xander.  That's not nice or sweet or any other verb that you call yourself."

"I was making it for David and he couldn't eat it.  Stan did."

"Stan used to eat Stella's cooking and that's worse than yours.  If we could, we'd ban her from cooking too."  He looked at the vampires around them.  "Did he do that to you guys too?"

"He once put grasshoppers into our blood martinis," one offered.  "Added a nice bit of crunch but some of us didn't like it.   How did he give them flaming runs?"

"Hamburger helper," Ray said bitterly.  "That and mixed bread."

The vampires gave Xander an awed look.  "You're my God," one of them said.  "I love you, you old Discordian."  He hugged him and grinned at Ray.  "You sure you want to keep him in Chicago?"

"Hell yes, otherwise his student will have to turn into him and Kowalski would never put up with that.  He'd come here to hunt Xander down and bring him back.  Besides, his husband just bought him a house.  I doubt you're getting him out of Chicago for a bit."

"Rich guy?" one asked hopefully.

"Fellow CSI but he handles our money," Xander offered with a goofy grin.  "He loves me.  He's a snarky and sarcastic person.  I call him my Snape."  Everyone let out a wistful sigh at that.  "Yeah, you guys have got to meet David some day.  He's great to me.  When I nearly had a stroke even let me eat peanut butter.  He hates my hunting but he appreciates me when I open jars and he's great to me.  He even *cuddles*," he told them.  They moaned in appreciation.  "After I had to shoot a lot of people with SWAT, he climbed into the bathtub with me and make sure I didn't have a single nightmare or flashback."  That got another wistful sigh.  "I'd tell you guys to come see me but then I'd have to hunt more often to keep the population down."

"That's okay.  We like you too much to make you hunt us," one of the vampires in the back offered, grinning at him.  "I'm kinda new but we've all been told stories about you and the group up the street.  Too bad the slayer doesn't have a sense of humor."

"She never really did.  I'm guessing that's why she and Angel got on so well together when they were dating and shagging."  The vampires tittered at that and they were led to the bar, where they were given normal drinks.

Ray could only sit there and listen to the Xander stories.  He'd save them to tell Stan.  Too bad he didn't have a recorder on him.  David would *love* some of these.  He'd have blackmail for months.

One of the vampires leaned over next to Ray's ear.  "I'll tell his mate so you don't have to, Vecchio.  Someone's got to keep the bad girls away from him and apparently his mate is good at that."  He kissed him on the cheek and went back to his listening and sharing stories.

Ray wiped off his cheek.  "Thanks, he'll laugh just as much as I am."  He looked at him.  "Don't kiss me.  I like women."

"Sorry, we're a males only family," that one offered with a smug look. "Sure you won't try it?  Just once?  You know what they say about vampires and sex.  We do have unlimited stamina."

"Yeah, unless you believe Anne Rice," Ray said dryly.  "Which I do."  The vampire chuckled and left it at that, not teasing him any more.  He was too nice for that and he did watch out for their Xander.

***

Ray walked into the precinct with his box of books and put them down onto his magically clear desk.  "Okay, who stole the files?  I was using them to hide the ugliness of the wood from the world."

"We had to," Dewey complained.  "I put back the half-eaten dog treat."  He sat up and looked at the box.  "For that Federal case?"

"Yes."  He grimaced at Xander as he walked in, Hodges following behind him.  "Did you know there's a whole family of male vampires who want to turn him and eat his cooking?" he asked.  Everyone grimaced and shuddered at that. "They consider him next to God for getting into trouble."

"They're nice guys and we worked together very well," Xander defended.  "Ray, I'm not going to be turned!"

"No, you're not," David said firmly, grabbing a firm, fierce kiss.  "Those vampires can wait in line, Xander.  You're mine.  All mine."

Xander beamed.  "They wanted to meet you because you had to be God to be so special to me.  I told my poker and pranking buddies allll about you and they wanted to rush up and meet you."

"Fortunately one called me today to share some of those stories with me," David told him, smirking hard.  "Weren't you going to clean the bathroom last weekend?"

"Oops," Xander said, blushing a bit.  "What did he tell you?"

"Everything," David said smugly.  "So, the shoveling this winter….?"

"All me," Xander agreed, kissing him again, hoping to distract him.

"Geez, it was only a day," Stan complained as he walked in.  "Use the closet like normal people!"

"I heard that," Welsh complained, coming out of the office.  He stopped to stare at the kissing couple then shuddered.  "Boys, not in my squad room!" he shouted.  Xander flapped a hand then went for a butt-grab, making David moan.  "Oh, no, someone hose them down or something.  I do not need to see that."  He stomped back into his office.  "Only a day?  I wasn't even that bad our first year together."

Vecchio took David, Stan took Xander, and they pulled.  David panted, leaning against Ray's chest.  "You know he's trying to make you forget, right?"

"I've got it on tape," he panted, grabbing Xander again to kiss him stupid.  Or to make him forget a bunch of horny, gay vampires and those women he used to know.  "You are mine, Xander.  Repeat that."

"Yours, all yours," he said happily, then went back to kissing.  They were separated again and he grabbed Stan's handcuffs, hitching him to the desk before he could try to struggle.  Then he went back to his kisses.  "They brought Giles back.  He's human again.  Spike was there too.  I got to snark at Buffy and Willow," he said, each sentence between a kiss.  "I missed you.  You make me sane.  You're keeping me sane so I don't turn out like them or the clan.  Love you."

"Use the closet," Huey and Dewey called in unison.

"Hmm, closet.  I have one of those."

"You have workers in your lab," David complained.  "Bathroom sex is tawdry."

"Broom closet," Ray said in David's ear, making him hum happily and drag Xander off again.  Ray could only shake his head.  "I wasn't that hot for it when I was married," he complained, sitting down behind his desk.  He pulled out his keys and got Stan free so he wasn't staring at his ass, then gave him a shove.  "Go away.  Bad enough the vampires wanted to give me a lap dance last night.  I don't need ta stare at your ass too."

"They did?" Huey asked.  "Why?"  That was more a Xander statement than a Ray thing to have happen.  He was almost feeling Xander'd.

"Because they were very, very gay and very, very Xanderish," he complained. "They used to be Xander's poker buddies and stuff.  You figure it out."  They all gaped at him and he nodded. "Yeah.  Xander's their patron saint of mischief and their inspiration.  If he ever needs turned, they're gonna be there ta do it.  They promised him.  Told a bunch of stories about him too.  I wish I had a recorder at times.  Some of them would keep Xander behaving for *years*."

"Anything *really* juicy?" Dewey asked.  A loud moan came from up the hall.  "Quit that!  I don't need to know how you two do that!"

"Oh, you have no idea," Ray said with a smirk.  "We're talking putting nair into shampoo for starters and moving up to making 'special dishes' for others."  They all groaned at that and he smirked at them all.  "And that was just the pranks."

David let out a moan this time; his voice was a tiny bit higher than Xander's.  Everyone stared in that direction and then groaned.  Huey got up and went to intervene, knocking hard on the closet door.  "Do you mind!"  He got another moan for his trouble and went to open the door, but it was locked.  He kicked it and Xander started to shriek and giggle in pleasure.  He looked back at the squad room, seeing Welsh.  He pointed.  "Well?"

"Open it.  I wanna yell.  This is much worse than the park."   He tossed over the keys.

Huey opened it and saw Xander against the wall, David pounding him, and closed it, leaning against it.  "I didn't need that image," he complained, getting around Welsh to go hide in the bathroom.

Welsh opened the door and glared at them and Xander got off, then went limp against his man.  "Do you mind?  I'm trying to housetrain a Xander here," David complained, shutting the door on him.

Welsh just stared, open mouth, shocked look on his face.  He blinked a few times then a gentle hand came to lead him back to his couch so he could have a nap and forget that he ever saw that Xander was a bottom and that both of them were very well built.  Not that he was looking or anything, but they had been.  He let out a small whimper and someone covered him with the throw off the back of the couch, leaving him in his office to nap.

Vecchio came out of the office and went to open the door.  "Guys, you just made Welsh lose it *again*.  No more sex in the closet.  No more sex in the squad room.  No sex in front of Ma or the kids or any of us.  We did not need to know that Xander takes it for you, David, nor did we need to hear it.  So clean up, get dressed, and come read boring books on magic!"  He slammed the door and went back to his desk, scowling at the people being led up the stairs.  "I don't care, I'm not dealing with them," he told the patrol.  "Unless they know about paranormal shit, they're someone else's problem for the next year."

"Xander was taking it?" Dewey asked.  Stan balled up a paper and threw it at his head, making him flinch and glare.  "Hey, what was that for!"

"For making me see that mental image too."  He looked at the closet.  "We're waiting!  I'm faster than that with both mine in there!"

"Another mental image I didn't need," Vecchio shouted overtop of him. "Shut up, Kowalski!  I did not need to know how many times you've had sex in there too!"

"Sorry," he snapped back, glaring at him.  "You want tape next time too?  You stared long enough."

"I had to watch the gayest of the gay vampires hit on him!  I didn't need to know *more* about his sex life!"

David came out of the closet, glaring at him.  "They hit on Xander?"

"It's playful, honey.  They're my old poker buddies.  I turned down the lap dance this time."  He came out tucking in his shirt.  "I was a good boy with them.  I only had a beer."  He stole a quick kiss and grinned.  "I turned down all the offers they used."

"I'm sure you did," David agreed, pulling him closer to kiss him harder.  "Do I have to tattoo my name on your ass?" he asked, staring into his eyes.  "Maybe get you a collar and tags?"  Xander beamed and shook his head. "You sure?  People still seem to think that I'll let them poach."

"I'd never go with them, David.  You know where my heart and my ass belong," he soothed, cuddling him and kissing him gently.  "I'm sorry they hit on me, they're just old friends.  We used to prank the slayers together. We used to play poker.  They told Ray a bunch of embarrassing stories."  He stole another kiss and smiled at him, getting a raised eyebrow in return.  "I was very good.  I sent the ones who tried off and I refused to do more than get hugs and a kiss on the cheek or two.  I was a good boy and I defended your property rights and I snarked at Buffy, Willow, and Giles, and even Spike when he showed up.   I was a very good boy and I wasn't even tempted to make my famous tuna surprise."

David pulled him closer.  "If one more person tries for your ass, I'm going to find markers and write my name allll over your body, including your face, Xander.  Do you understand?"  He gave him a goofy grin and a nod.  "You're sure you understand?"  Xander beamed and nodded again.  "Good."  He opened the closet door and shoved him back inside, going to make sure Xander knew his claim was in place and that no one, and he meant no one, was going to take his Xander snuggly away.   He was going to make sure everyone knew Xander was his and that no one was going to doubt his claim to him.

All the detectives glared at the closet at the howling going on.  Someone was getting spanked apparently and it wasn't the fun kind.  Or maybe not, Xander had just said to 'fuck me harder' so maybe they were wrong and it was the fun kind.

Stan got up, it was his turn after all and Dewey would never do it, and opened the door, staring a bit.  "You need to arch up more. It'll go faster and spare the rest of them naughty gay thoughts."

Xander growled at him.  "I'm being claimed here, do you mind!"  He kicked at Stan and then David slammed the door for him.  "Nosy parker!  Get your own!  You've got two and my David's still better!"

"Yes, I am," David assured him.  "Especially for you."  Xander let out a howl when he started again, letting him do whatever he wanted.  "Claimed.  I like the sound of that," he mused as he rode his lover hard.  "Yes, that's what I should do later, I should *claim* you properly."  He slammed in and came, then helped his lover get off, settling in on an upturned bucket to cuddle him for a few minutes.  "You know we've just embarrassed ourselves horribly?"

"Do I care?" Xander asked with a bright grin.  "I wouldn't have missed that for the world!"  He stole a kiss and snuggled in.  "Damn you're good."

David grinned down at him.  Xander appreciated him and loved him, and he was all his.   Even if he did cause those uncivil, unpolite, and very naughty images and urges to start.

Turnbull opened the door.  "David?  Is Xander able to work tonight?  We really do have to get on with this case and need him rather a lot.  I'm sure you'll be able to mark your territory later and all that," he said with his best upper crust and polite accent.  "Can we have him now?"

"In a minute, I'm getting cuddles.  They're important to keep me sane and healthy," Xander said.  "Just like being played with is."  He smirked at him.  "Stan watched us, he tried to give advice."

Turnbull smirked.  "Well, you are both adorable men and all, and quite well built from what I can see, but I'm sure I can cure him of any desire toward either of you.  May I have the closet when you're done?"

"Hell no!" Vecchio called.

"I wasn't talking to you," he said firmly, glaring at his mate.  "We're going to have a normal discussion I do believe."  Stan swallowed and shook his head.  "I believe we should, before I tell Benton."  He helped Xander up and handed him back his pants, then turned around to guard their modesty while they redressed.  Xander hissed a few times but he did wobble out and head for the break room, coming back with a pastry from the machine and a coke.  He however, needed to have a long…talk with his mate.  He pulled his lover up and into the closet, giving him a blowjob that would forever make sure he never thought of Xander again.  Even if Xander had told him how to do so.

"We done now?" Vecchio said loudly as Stan wobbled out and passed out on his desk.  "Can we get back to real work and not sex?  Some of us didn't need to know that much about any of your sex lives."

"Jealous?" David quipped.  "We all know I've got the best and greatest lover and I please him more than anyone else ever has."

"Brag some more, I'm sure I can find bodily fluid samples for you at the next crime scene, *David*."

Hodges only smirked.  "Not my area.  That would be DNA."  He patted his Xander on the head and stole a bite of his Danish, then leaned back.  "Okay, do we have an idea what we're looking at?"

"Rebirth ritual," Xander said between bites.  He finished up and wiped off his hands and his mouth, then stole a quick kiss.  "They're raising power to bring back someone or to make themselves immortal.  Take your pick at the moment.  We've got ten major sources, some cross-referenced ones, and I got a book to make Anya leave you alone."  David patted him for that and got a beaming grin in return.  "So, we need to skim, scan, and read, possibly taking notes.  Then again, they're not all about this sort of thing, there's only bits and pieces.  Do you want to help read, Ray?"

"Nope. I might have to have nightmares about more than you not bein' able ta sit."

"Fine.  I'll take them and read them over, making notes for the clueless and helpless.  Turnbull, you wanna help with the research stuff?"

"If you want, Xander."

"Thanks, I could use it.  This was my weaker area.  I never had the focus for it before."

David leaned closer. "I reward good boys who find answers," he whispered.  "I reward them with very good treats tonight at home.  All night if possible.  Think you can focus and find it?"

Xander moaned and nodded.  "Oh, I think I can. I know I can."  He picked up the first box and carried it to the break room, coming back for the other, letting Rennie get some paper and pens from Dewey's drawers.  He sat down with the first book and started in the table of contents, flipping to the right section.  It had something on the meaning of phoenixes in magic and he took some paper and a pen to make notes so he could give  a concise report later, even to Ford if he needed it.

***

Xander paced back and forth in front of everyone, glaring a bit, frowning greatly.  "Okay, from nearest I could figure, given what we've got, which isn't much, it's one of two things.  They're trying to become immortal or they're trying to bring something quite powerful back.  Now, if they're trying to become immortal, they should have eaten gravox spiders.  Don't ask me how I know this, but I do.  This ritual is one of rebirth.  Of renewal.  I'm hoping it's that they're trying to become immortal."  He stopped pacing to look at the confused people.  "Where did I lose you?"

"That ever so tasty image of eating spiders," Vecchio assured him.

"Immortal?" Stan asked.  Xander nodded.  "Can they do that?"

"Ask me sometime about our old mayor in Sunnydale," he said coolly, glaring at him. "Not the point."  Both detectives shook themselves free.  "Okay," he started again.  "Either immortal or bringing something big, bad, and nasty back.  I don't know what.  There's no prophecy on the books or in the system to show why.  So it's a personal reason.  I've already called my local source and he doesn't have a clue either but he's putting the word out for us for everyone to be *really* careful.  They know I don't want to go to their scenes and find them."  He started to pace again.  "The real problem becomes if they manage to call something back.  If it's too big, I'm fucked.  I'm good but I ain't God.  If they do, I'm going to have to do an emergency call to Cleveland and get the cranky ones here."

David captured Xander and sat him down.  "You're making me dizzy."  He stroked his back.  "What could they be trying to bring back?"

"That's what I don't know," he admitted.  "Anything I could think of, they're not gonna want.  I don't have enough experience profiling to tell you."

"I was once told that the moment the serial psycho's ritual is done, that's what makes it God for them," Ray told him.  "What about how the bodies were laying?"

"Haphazardly.  He went for known people in their fields, but not anyone of great power.  So I'm guessing this person is either a normal or lightly powered.  Otherwise we'd be seeing someone like Kovaks in there.  Or Dremiton.  Or even someone like Rosenburg."  Ray looked confused.  "I don't know.  I'm going to *try* to talk to someone later tonight.  If they're in and they'll see me.  Most sorcerers won't.  If this is magical and they're trying to bring something back, I don't know what.  I hunt things, not people."

"We hunt people," Stan pointed out.  "Who could do this?  Physically or mentally, however."

"They've got to be pretty strong.  Unless they had them drugged, one of the victims weighed close to two hundred pounds.  That's why I'm ruling out women totally.  I'm also going to say that it was someone who wants really bad for some reason or they've got a bit of power and want more.  Again, I'm not sure.  I can tell you about the ritual and all that stuff but nothing else."  That got another round of nods.  "If I'm good enough, I might have some answers for you guys later.  The blood on the circle came back from DNA.  It wasn't the victim's and it wasn't cow or pig blood.  It was horse blood.  So you've got something you can try to trace there.  The symbols were painted on with a very stiff brush, and the Trace analysis said it was Weasel.   I know not why.  The mirrors at the scene were fairly generic but I'm not sure where they're sold at.  The powder around the figures and in the blood you'll never find.  You'll have to go to a real herbalist, someone who knows their shit and hides stuff from everyone, especially the importers, and I doubt they'd talk to you.  I'm hoping Dremiton will know who and where so I can talk to them.  I'll be taking Rennie with me, Stan.  He's got some cred since he hunts with me.  No, I'm not getting into trouble with him."  He looked at David.  "I need you to finish up on the bodies.  Anything, even animal hair, could help.  Tox isn't back yet and I'm figuring they found something but can't tell what."  David nodded that he was right and Xander sighed.  "Do we have a clue?"

"Herbal.  No one's got more than a chemical compound mix and some of those aren't for single ingredients.  We can't get what it was originally.  Not even Greg when I emailed it to him."

"Search out the usual calming, paralyzing, and peyote stuff."

"Peyote?"

"Dreaming and imagining are almost as good as paralyzing and it could have been part of the ritual.  One did have the sacrifice 'seeing' the spirits as they died.  That would do that."  David nodded, making a note of that.  "Get these guys the generic stuff; let them track it down while I find Dremiton."

"He's having a party tonight," David reminded him.  He had seen it in the paper and mentioned it to Xander.  It never hurt to keep track of such people.

"Yeah, and I'm not in his circle and they hate people like me because I'm one of the good guys and they're not."  He stood up and ran his hands through his hair.  "I'll be back.  Rennie's waiting for me by the car.  If I'm not back in two hours, call me.  On my cell.  Do not try to come for me or he'll shove me into some antechamber in hell and leave me there while he cackles madly."  He stole a quick kiss and was gone with the pictures he wanted and the reports he had already.  He headed out to the car, going to drive, Turnbull silent beside him.  "You're playing guard.  He may not let you in.  I should be fine but he's having a party and I'm gonna end up pissing someone off because I'm not part of their circle.  They're not rooting for the home team and if it's not someone with light duties they're probably in there."  Turnbull nodded at that.  "Just guard the car, listen for me to scream in pain or horror.  Not in outrage.  This is driving me nuts."  He turned the corner, going onto another section of town.  The higher, classier end to be precise.  He pulled up outside the gate of the house he wanted and rolled down his window, weathering the sneer.  "Listen, I'm Harris, I'm a Knight.  I need help, there's someone going after practioners and I don't know the ritual.  All I want is five minutes and maybe a clue.  If I can't see him tonight, I understand, but I need an appointment."

"Stay there, turn off the engine."

"Sure."  He did so.  He sat quietly, trying to make himself relax.  The gates opened and he looked over, getting a nod.  So he started the car and pulled up the driveway, parking as far off to the side as he could.  "You stay here.  Unless I call for you."  He got out, taking the pictures and reports with him.  He tidied everything into the folder on his way to the front door, bowing deeply to the man standing there.  "I have bad timing," he admitted.  "But they gave me the case with the phoenix ritual and I'm clueless.  They expect me to find the guy and stop him."

"A rebirth?"

"Or a calling," he admitted.  "Way too many bodies, all talented or priests of some sort.  If tonight's a bad time, I'll take an appointment.  I know I'm begging for mercy here."

"I've heard of you," he admitted.  "You're said to be fair.  You're said to be tough."

"I'm also said to be a hunter and cruel to those who deserve it," Xander admitted.  "Like Ethan Rayne, who I'm sure is inside and would shit himself if he saw me here."  Dremiton smirked at that.  "I'm under no illusions.  You're not going to like me.  I'm a Knight, I screw up magic.  I managed to make Rosenburg lose focus many times."

"You stopped her?"  Xander nodded at that.  "Then I can help you this time.  Come into my office, Knight."  He walked him that way, taking the folder once he was inside.  He sat down to look at the pictures first.  "You work with the police?" he asked, sounding amused.

"I'm a ballistics tech and I have a minor in Trace," he offered quietly.  "I know that they were given something herbal, Toxicology is still trying to figure out what.  I suggested paralytics, hallucinogens, and tranquilizers."

"That's a very hard ritual and not that common.  You're thinking in Princes instead of soldiers.  Why?"

Xander shrugged.  "Horse blood made up the figure.  The number of bodies.  The fact that no trace was found around the scene, it was like it appeared and happened somewhere else.  There was no spilled blood found from the bodies either."  He hadn't stopped to consider why before but it was adding up in his head.  "I'd say they were trying to call something powerful but I don't know what or why.  There's no major Sabbaths coming.  There's no major holidays or remembrances that I could find either.  Personally this is freaking me out.  I'm good with weapons, with hunting, with minor research, but I'm not finding anything in what I got from Cleveland and I'm clueless and I'm being expected to stop this.  The FBI agent liaisoning with me is one I had to clue in. They asked about my weapons stash and why," he said at the amused look.   "I took him to the bar and showed him."  He suddenly felt very tired and knew he looked it by the look he was being given.  "I can take out something bigger than me, but it's me and Turnbull here if it's too big.  He's half trained.  There's plenty of things I need told how to kill, and if something appears, Cleveland's about six hours away by car and at least an hour by plane."

"True."  He went back to looking.  "The powder came from Ochia.  It's down on Eighth."  He looked up.  "Tell her I sent you, she'll be straight with you.  She might remember who bought it.  It's fairly expensive."  Xander nodded at that.  "Are you all right, Knight?"

"No, I'm not.  I'm having one of those 'the world is sitting on my prostate and nibbling' moments.  It's me and my friends and those I consider family.  I hate those days."

"I agree.  Then again, you are retired."

"As I usually put it, if the city's bending over and grabbing her ankles, I'm there."  He shrugged at the mild chuckle.  "Sorry about the language.  Been a long week."

"I understand, Knight.  Sit."

"I'll end up napping if I do.  I'll stop pacing and lean though."  He went to lean against the wall, staring out the windows.  "What I'm thinking is that it's someone with lesser powers or someone who wants power.  Either they're looking for immortality or they're doing their best to bring something back.  I've already sent out a warning through the comic shop."

"I've noticed it," Dremiton admitted as he looked at the chemical reports.  "It's a calling.  They're using spruce."  He put it down, pointing at it.  "They're calling from a higher hell.  They're calling a powerful demon to beg.  I'd say you're right."

"Can or should the demon be fought?"

"No, he should be banished and it'll be a hard one."  Xander nodded at that.  "I can send someone to help you."

"Anyone who's a cop?"

"Two or three.  Why weren't they called?"

"Agent Ford knows me.   I had to expose him to it and I had to help him with a SWAT assault when his own people couldn't show up in time.  I saved his life."

"So he endangers yours?"

"He has no idea," Xander said quietly.  "Then again, this is what I do."  He gave him a weak smile.  "Banish?  Standard banishment?"

"Yes, just with a lot of power.  You'll be quite tired and sore afterward.  I'll tell them to come to you.  Who else is working on this?"

"Some of the detectives at the Twenty-seventh and myself.  My husband.  Turnbull."  He shrugged.  "I'm still working on his training for hunting.  He's very good."

"I'm sure he is.  Did you finally stake Dru?"  Xander beamed and nodded.  "I'd heard you had.  Thank you, she was haunting my gardens and singing to me about flaming birds."  He smirked at the boy.  "Need anything else?"

"No, sir.  I can take it from here.  Thank you for your help.  If you need me and my various skills, yell my way."  He bowed and gathered everything, taking them back to the car.  He slid in and looked at Turnbull, then got out.  "You drive."  He moved around the front, letting him slide over.  He climbed in and rested his head against the back of the seat.  His phone was pulled out and something fell out, letting him pick it up to look at it.  He tucked the small pin into his pocket again.  If he needed it, Dremiton would help him this time.  He called Ray's phone.  "Vecchio, take notes.  I'm exhausted and napping on the way back.  Go ahead, Stan.  Er, Rennie.  Sorry."  He closed his eyes.  "They are trying to call on something to give them power.  It's the standard banishment if they succeed.  Make a note for me to go to Ochia to see about that powder.  The key was the spruce.  Remind me it's on eighth.  Also remind me that someone should be coming to help, but I'm not sure when.  Yeah, when I get back."  He yawned.  "Be there soon if Rennie ever starts the car."  Turnbull started the car and they were off, heading back to the station. "No, I'm good.  He was very helpful.  Thanks."  He hung up.  "Ray said to swing through Burger Barn or somewhere and get him something to munch on and some fries."  He yawned again and closed his eyes.  "I'll wake up when we get back there.  I'm exhausted."

"Of course," Turnbull agreed, glancing at him when they were stopped by red lights.  He continued on, sure it was going to be fine now.

***

Xander looked up from his reading when someone whistled.  "Have some couth," he yelled.  The woman walked into the break room, looking right at him.  "You are?"

"Lucinda Mayquest.  Detective out of the fifteenth."  She walked in and shook his hand.  "You're Harris?"   He nodded.  "Kovaks sent me."

"Great."  He handed her what he had been reading.  "That's the ritual they're using.  They've done steps one through four, we're looking for step five tonight and it's another human sacrifice, then step six is a major one and we're all goners if we don't stop it.  I'm assuming that it's got to either be in the same place or nearly?"

She sat down to look it over.  Then she shook her head.  "Not necessarily.  With the creation of the sacred space it could be anywhere.  That's why the proper preparation of the ritual area is in big, bold letters, detective."

"CSI.  Ballistics."  He smirked at her.  "Fairly typical I know, but I do good with guns."  She chuckled at that, shaking her head.  "Stan and Ray are working it with me, Turnbull, and my husband David."

"I've met him when he had to testify after doing a case for us," she admitted quietly.  "Do you have much trouble with the meatheads around here?"

Xander smirked.  "No, we tend to traumatize them.  They all came to the wedding too."

"You certainly do traumatize us," Dewey yelled from the squad room.  "If she's not a perp bring her out so we know that you know normal people."

"Funny," Xander called back.  "You wanna meet a straight guy without a clue on how to please women?"

"Sure, I know plenty all ready, what's one more to the corral of cops?"   She brought the book with her, walking out into the main bullpen area.  She looked at Dewey, who was kicked back.  "Detective, I'm ashamed I'm one of you," she said dryly, smirking coolly at him.  "Then again, I do believe my colleague was correct in saying that you're not offering much to the wrong woman, which I am."  The other officers laughed.  "Now I'm sure you're not the one working with he and I on this homicide, are you?"

Huey shook his head quickly.  "Hell no!  Xander can keep the strange stuff to himself.  My partner and I want nothing to do with that stuff nor do we care.  We'll cover your back if they start shooting real weapons, but otherwise you're on your own."  He looked at Dewey, then at her.  "He's not that bad with the wrong women, detective, it's the right women that he manages to drive off."

She laughed.  "I like you two.  You're adorable."  She pinched them both on the cheek.  "Someday you two will grow into fine men-folk instead of little boys."  She smiled at the obvious little boy behind his desk; he was the one eating candy.  "You're one of them?"

Stan looked at her and smirked back.  "Yup, sorry and all that.  Stan Kowalski."  He waved and ate another chocolate frog.  "Xander, I broke into the leftover box."

"Just don't tell David where it is," Xander demanded.  "Give him all the cards too."

"You've got more?" Huey demanded.

Xander gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile.  "Of course I do.  The last time I bought some, that night that I made Ray chase me, I went and bought six more cases before going to play in the park, Huey."  He kissed him on the top of the head.  "I'll still share if the temptation is too great for you.  After all, the only way to keep me from eating them all by myself is for someone else to eat them.  I still have four whole cases and a partial fifth left."

Stan nodded.  "He does.  I found another Dumbledore."  He waved the card and smirked at the pretty detective.  She had nice, but kinda short, auburn hair.  A plump figure but it looked like she could easily out-do a suspect.  She wasn't that pretty in the face but it would do because you could see her intelligence in her eyes.  "Want one?  I can go steal another for you."

"No, that's okay. I've had my chocolate for the month, thank you anyway, Detective."  She looked around.  "Where's everyone else?"

"Due in about two hours," Xander told her, shrugging a bit.  "Ray had the day off.  Ma needed ta go to the hospital.  He'll be back then and he's supposed to be picking up Turnbull at the Consulate."  Stan nodded at that.  "Then who's telling Ford?"

"Not me," Huey noted.  "I don't like the Feds.  They sicken the air in here."

"Ford's turning out to be decent enough," Xander defended.  "He could be a real asshole about this and a glory hog.  I've seen worse."

"I'm sure you did in Vegas," Dewey agreed.  "The first time we saw Agent Ford, he was pushing his weight around with his clone and being clueless.  Since then he's only gotten mean."

Xander smirked at him.  "So, the next time he tries to give you a wedgie, tell him I'll get him back," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm so going to give a Federal Agent a wedgie," Huey snorted.  "Some of us are older than that, Xander."

"I find they don't expect it so it's a valuable asset in today's modern urban warfare situation," Xander assured them.  "You always have to do something unexpected to the enemy or they don't run away cursing your name and screaming in fear."

"You can do that with a wedgie?"

"You ever seen a vampire trying to walk with one?" he retorted.   "I'm the reason Spike and three other vampires gave up wearing underwear," he said with a proud, smug smirk.  "Never again will the biteless one taunt me to not tie him in the chair."  Lucinda laughed at that.  "By the way, he is, once again, back.  He's in Cleveland with Giles."

"I heard he was staked."

Xander looked at her.  "Rosenburg."

"Ah.  Understood."  She nodded and sighed.  "That poor, deluded young woman."

"Who thought I was worthless," Xander assured her smugly.  "Even after I stopped her."

"Was she insane?" Huey asked.

"Grieving," Xander told him.  "Tried to end the world.  Hurt like hell when she tried to kill me too."  All the detectives stared at him.  "What can I say?  I'm a popular guy that way," he said dryly.

Lucinda just nodded, looking at Stan.  "You let him play with your boyfriends?"

"Turnbull thought he was neat before he jumped me," he offered dryly.  "So he's been teaching him how to hunt."

"Really?  Can he do something about Druscilla?"

"Did that the day I went to play in the park," Xander said proudly.  "She irked me beyond all common sense and I'd had enough.  She wanted pushed on the swing, so I did, for a few minutes, then I staked her while doing so."

"Xander, strange shit out of our squad room," Dewey reminded him.

"Fine, I'll take her downstairs and reintroduce her to the hubby."  Some perps came up the stairs in cuffs, screaming and trying to get to each other.  "HEY!"  They stared at him in shock.  "Do not debase yourself in front of a lady that way!  Did your mother teach you *no* manners!  You fucking morons are going to get your asses killed by her!"  They gaped at Lucinda, who only sneered back.  "Now, settle down like the bitches you'll become in prison and be good little boys before *I* have to get cranky!"  They both sat where they were, staring at him in shock.  "Thank you!"   He smiled at her.  "Detective Mayquest, would you like to follow me?  We've got a nicer lab down there since it'll be a wait."

"I'll hang up here for a bit I think," she offered with a small smile for him.  "Thank you for reminding everyone I'm one of the scarier women in the city."

"All women are scary but they only turn evil when they want to date me.  It's a good thing you're immune," he joked, then he skipped down the stairs.

"Who was that?" one of the perps asked, staring at Xander's back before he disappeared.

"CSI Harris," Stan called.  He looked at the officer.  "Terminally stupid or just temporarily stupid?"

"They were holding up pawn shop to get jewelry for their girl, who they then started to fight over when they found out they were both sleeping with her."

"With their luck, she's probably a trannie too," Lucinda joked.  Both boys looked horrified.

"Okay, so they're terminally stupid," Stan decided.

"Hey!" the second one complained.

"Bring one of the stupid twins here, I'll check him in.  Let one of those two have the other one."

"Sure thing, Detective Kowalski.  We heard you and Harris were working a special serial case together."

"Yeah, but we've got to wait for Vecchio so it'll be a few hours.  Nothing better ta do since I'm dating and Mayquest there is being looked at like a bone by the other dog in the house."  Dewey quit staring at her butt long enough to glare at him, then she casually slapped him, making him moan a bit.  "Don't do that, he might like it and then take a page outta one of Xander's stalker's books."  She giggled, turning around and heading back into the break room to hide it.  It wouldn't do her reputation any good to be seen giggling like a hippie on 'shrooms.  Stan glared at the two on the floor.  "Whichever of you doesn't want Dewey, c'mere."

They both ran for Dewey's desk, fighting over his chair and who got him.

The patrol officer looked at him.  "Sir, can you and Harris maybe coordinate your next vacation?  That way we can have some quiet times?" he suggested. "Maybe take Vecchio with you five?"

"With your luck, there'd be a long-term hostage thing and they'd be demanding us."

"Point," he sighed, walking back downstairs shaking his head.  It would probably happen if they did, he had forgotten that.  After all, look at Valentine's Day and what happened then because Harris had the night off.   They all *knew* it had been because he had the night off.  Otherwise it would have been a nicer, more normal SWAT bust and no one would have gotten injured or killed in the line of duty.

***

Ray trudged in and flopped down in his desk chair, looking at the empty office.  "Did Xander cook and make them all go on sick leave?" he demanded tiredly.

"Well, I did order chili but I didn't cook it," Xander offered with a sweet grin.  "How's Ma?"

"She came out frowning and wouldn't tell me why."

"Is she okay?  Did they order more tests?" Xander demanded.  "I can take her some of the time so you don't have to, Ray."

"No, no more tests or anything, she just came out frowning.  It looked like she was more irritated than worried.  You know that look she gives Diefenbaker when he steals the cheese she's slicing for lasagna?  That look."  Xander nodded, he had gotten that look once for stealing the cheese she was slicing too.  Then he had kissed her on the cheek and she had sighed, handing him something to nibble on.  "So I'm guessing the doctor decided she was old and should be slowing down."

"I'll call her later," Xander promised.  "Maybe she'll tell me if I beg."

"Maybe," Ray agreed.  "She hates to worry me."  He shrugged and looked at the new addition to their happy little group.  "You are?"

"Detective Lucinda Mayquest.  I was sent to help, Detective Vecchio.  I'm one of those who deal in the odd and unusual most of the time."

"Demitron passed it on to another of the group who deals with this sort of thing more and he sent us a specialist," Xander told him.  "Which is good because I've only managed to banish Anya to the lawn now."

"You have a spirit?" she asked.

"I have three and two are really nice so I let them roam around, but my ex likes to scare and piss off my mate.  Since she's also a pervy voyeur, he's decided we can't have sex until she's totally gone."

"Make her pass on."

"Can't quite manage that.  She was a demon, then a human, then a demon, then a human, then she died," he said dryly.  "She was in Vengeance."

"You dated Anyanka?"  Xander nodded.  "Damn, you're brave," she said in awe.

"I'm part of the reason she lost her power center too," he admitted.  "Me and Rosenburg."

"Okay, now I'm ready to bow at your feet."

"As long as you don't try to steal him, we'll let you do that," David said sarcastically.  "If you try to steal him, I'll have to hurt you."

She smiled.  "I wouldn't want him.  I couldn't keep up with him."  David smirked at her for that honest assessment.  It took a strong man to keep up with Xander some days. "Are we all here?"  Xander nodded, curling up in the chair he had stolen.  "Good.  Do we have a plan?"

"Can we find out where they're working tonight?" Xander asked.

"Technically, how were you supposing to do that?"

"Look for major points of magic?" he suggested.  "You can probably rule out the usual spots and the private residences."

"Good point."  She looked at the ritual for tonight again.  "It's almost got to be in an open area or the baseball stadium.  There's got to be a lot of room for that portal to come and for them to work tonight."

"Stadium's got guards," Ray noted tiredly.  "Where else?"

"Calls upon the Earth, needs Nature.  The shore?  A beach?  One of the many parks in the city?"  She looked at him.  "Take your pick, detective."

"I'd rather not.  Can we narrow it down a bit?  That's about a third of the city's width we're talking about."

"Can we do a location charm or something?" Turnbull asked.  Everyone stared at him.  "That thing with the map and the crystal.  What Xander….."  Xander coughed and shook his head.  "No, we can't?"

"You did what?" Lucinda asked with a chuckle.

"Stan was missing, I needed to find him," he shrugged a bit, looking guilty as hell.  "It's simple enough. A one time thing, trust me."

She hummed and looked at him.  "You're sure?"   He glared at her and she smiled.  "Fine, I won't tease you about that then, Harris."  She patted him on the head.  "That's not a bad idea but we don't know what we're looking for."  Xander handed her a small pouch.  "What's this?"

"The powder from the outer circle the first time," he told her simply.  "It's called for."

"That I can work with," she decided, going to find a map and the emptiest break room table.  She came back a few minutes later, smirking hard.  "The beach."  Everyone looked at her.  "One of the side, cut off to people, ones.  Shall we, gentlemen?"

"We shall," Xander agreed, standing up and pulling up a bag.  He pulled out his axe and looked it over, then tossed the bag to Rennie.  "I put in your fav short sword, big guy.  David, honey, there's a crossbow in there for you too," he said with a grin.  "Just like the one I taught you on back in Vegas."  He followed her out.  "I'm not driving.  I could use a quick sharpen."

"I'll drive me and Rennie," Stan called.

"Then I've got Xander and David," Ray agreed, looking in the bag.  There were bullets for them.  Xander had remembered, how thoughtful.  They left the empty bag there and headed out to their cars, getting in to follow Lucinda, who was not using her lights and sirens yet.  Apparently they had some time.

***

Xander looked across the small beach, then at her.  "You're sure?"

"The powder's already down.  The figure is drawn in the sand, no blood this time," she admitted.  She slipped behind a pile of rocks.  "See, there's our person," she noted, pointing at the person watching over the figures on the sand.  "There'll be others soon."

Xander nodded and looked at Ray.  "Capture now or later?" he hissed.

"Later.  They'll figure out we're here if you do it now," he hissed back.  And they said Xander knew strategy?  He shook his head and looked at Lucinda, who frowned back.  "What?" he mouthed.

"Go now, Xander, I think he's a zombie.  They'll think he wandered off to eat someone."

Xander nodded, sneaking that way.  He disappeared and none of them saw what he was doing until the zombie was grabbed and pulled behind some other rocks.  Then Xander was suddenly back.  "Not a zombie, but definitely unliving.  It was demonic instead of human."

"Demons can be zombies," Lucinda defended.

"They've got their own classification in the Watcher's manual and that's how I was trained," he reminded her.  He looked over as more people came up to the sand. A few looked around but most of them just started to check the figure, pouring out more powder.  One though, he was staring in their direction.  Xander looked at them, then snorted and walked off, coming out behind some distant rocks since it looked like the person was tracking him.  "Hey."  He smirked at him.  "You're upsetting me greatly.  You're keeping me from sex too.  Must you do this tonight?  It's my anniversary and my husband *hates* it when I come in covered in blood."

The sorcerer blinked at him a few times.  "Huh?" he finally demanded.

Xander chuckled.  "You were tracking me; I'm here to stop you.  What part didn't you get?"

The sorcerer still looked confused and looked at his brethren, who were also staring.  "Why is this chaos magnet here and not in the circle?"

"Sorry, we couldn't capture him," one of them defended. "He's a cop."

"CSI, please," he said with a smirk.  "I'm also a Knight."  The sorcerer gaped at him and he nodded, smirking at him.  "And like I said, tonight's my anniversary and you are *not* making my husband happy by forcing me to go home covered in your blood."

"You could join us," the guy facing him suggested.

"Sorry, don't do the magic stuff. It makes my hair frizzy.  Then I have to fall back on all those *girl* things I learned at the slayer's side."  They all backed away from him.  "So, shall we dance now, that way I can make it home in time for a good, cuddling bath with my man?"   He smiled at him. "Or did you wanna wait?"

The sorcerer looked really confused.  "You can't hope to stop us, you're a mortal."

"So are you.  Hate ta break it to ya, but I've seen immortals, they're usually germphobic and scarier because they always seem to appear to be nice and calm people."  The sorcerer looked even more confused.  "I'm from Sunnydale," he shared with a smirk.  "Ever met our former mayor, turned snake?"

"No," he said slowly, drawing it out.  "Why would I?"

"He ascended.  He managed to make it all the way to giant snake.  Well, then ya know what happened," he said with a sheepish grin.  "It was a pretty explosion in case you weren't there.  Oh, but I see another alumnus here.  Hi, Bert!"  He grinned and waved at the former star of the basketball team.  "How's tricks?"

"Xander?" he asked, pushing back his hood.  "You worked with Buffy Summers."

"No, shit," he said dryly, smirking at him. "Which made me a knight to her slayer."   Bert's eyes went wide.  "I also worked in LA during Angel's tenure in Wolfram and Hart."  He walked over to give the man a hug, damaging the circle a bit.  "So, how've you been?  Got a wife, kids?  Decent job?  Or are you just a sorcerer now?"

"No, I work in an investment firm.  You?"

"I'm a CSI with the local PD.  I've got a wonderful husband who's going to kill me for coming home bloody tonight and spoiling our anniversary celebration."   Bert could only blink at that and Xander pulled out his wallet to show him.  "See?  That's my David.  He's a sweetheart, if a bit sarcastic and snarky now and then, oh, but he's a great guy.  He even cuddles after the bad fights and doesn't mind the nightmares from graduation.  So, wife and kiddies?"

"Not yet.  I've got a girlfriend but she's not exactly onto this part of my life.  Where did Summers, Rosenburg, and Oz end up?"

"Oz is still probably in Tibet.  He's a bit furry now and then.  Summers and Rosenburg are in Cleveland with the rest of the slayers.  So, did any other of us manage to make it into the real world?  I haven't heard a thing about reunions."

"I'm guessing they figured it was pointless since the whole town was gone," Bert said, looking confused.  "What happened anyway?  I figure you were there and all."

"Oh, yeah.  The First Evil.  We went into the Hellmouth to fight her."  He shrugged.  "Hell of a battle.  I lost my last fiancé there.  You remember Anya, right?   I almost ended up marrying her, but I got shown a vision of the future with me having a beer gut and ran away from her at the altar."  Bert nodded at that, apparently understanding it.  "Anyway, Hell was really crowded and when the First Bitch died, it kinda sucked the town back into itself.  You know, magical displacement is like a bomb, outgoing and then filling in the vacuum."

Bert nodded.  "I've seen that before, with our last rite.  So, you're assigned to stop us?"  Xander beamed and nodded.  "Pity for you, man."

Xander swung his axe back, then followed it to get the other one sneaking up behind him, then turned back around.  "No, it'll only be a pity if the paperwork deprives me of sex tonight.  It's finally my turn to top again," he said with a goofy grin.

"I never pictured you as gay and that was way too much information, Xander," Bert noted.  He shook his head a few times to clear it.  "Well, um, unfortunately we've got to kill you now so we can do this.  Otherwise we'll be in deep shit when the demon eats us instead," he said with a winning smile.  "I'm sure you understand, right?"

"Sure, of course I do."  Xander casually gave him a hug, then backhanded him into the figure.  "You have fun with that demon, man, it's already here."  Bert looked up and gaped in horror, then screamed when his head was grabbed by a massive mouth.  Xander looked up at the demon.  "Please go away.  You really can't have the others.  I can't file this in an official report.  I'll sound like I'm nuts.  Then the city would go to hell and life would stop moving forward for too many residents while I was taking funny pills, and then my husband would have to get really upset and watch me fight some more if you don't leave, and I'd never hear the end of it."

"You're already nuts," Stan called as he stood up, gun out.  "Freeze, creeps."

"Yes, please do," Lucinda said as she stood up.  She ducked when Xander threw a stake at her, then looked behind her as the demon dusted.  "Nice shot."

"Typical of them to have guards," he said with a shrug.  "David, honey, there's probably a few more.  You and Rennie take care of that while Lucinda and I take care of the demon and the two Rays deal with the rest of this mess."  He nodded, going after Turnbull to help him find more vampires.

Lucinda pulled out the scroll she had made earlier, unrolling it and starting the chant as she walked closer.  She could feel the magical barrier and stopped next to it, working hard at sending the demon back.

The demon stared at her, then at Xander, then snorted and took his snack with him, closing the portal fully.

Lucinda looked up, frowning a bit.  "That's not nice," she called.

"Well, he was a demon and I hear banishment hurts," Xander said as he walked across the figure, scuffing as he went.  The first confused sorcerer came for him and he gutted him, looking down at him.  "Hi," he said with a grin, wiggling his fingers.  "Feel more omnipotent now?"

The man could only moan and try to hold in his intestines.

"Someone really should call for backup," Stan offered.

Ray nodded. "Yeah, they should.  Can we do that safely though?"

"Of course," Lucinda said with a grin.  "It's all good now."

They both nodded and made separate calls, Stan advising of the injured and Ray requesting a bus to transport everyone and the victims.  Someone, likely a Fed, would sort it all out without their help.  He looked at Stan.  "Ma wanted you and happy boy over there for a late dinner.  You think we're done?"

"Sure.  Let me grab my Mountie and you grab Xander.  We'll let the others figure this out."

"You're not leaving me with this paperwork!" Lucinda said hotly, glaring at them.

"We never do ours upfront," Stan said with a grin.  "I've got stuff on my desk from two years ago."  He and Ray walked off to gather their respective friends, then headed to Ma's for a nice dinner and some calm time.

Lucinda glared at the officers responding, including her own boss.  "Crossover with the twenty-seventh," she reported.  "They just left."

"I'll send them the paperwork tonight.  Who had the sword?"

"Constable Turnbull but he was hunting vampires."  The sorcerers were pointed at.  "Oh, CSI Harris."  She smirked at him.  "He's only slightly insane.  He's from the hellmouth."

"I don't need ta know those things," her boss nearly sang as he walked off, forcing himself to forget such things.  He found a vampire lurking and looked at it.  "Mayquest, there's another one here."  She threw him a stake and he got it, then walked off after tossing the stake down.  Tomorrow it'd look like so much driftwood so it was all good.  He would file away the information that CSI Harris was another to turn to in case of strange and unusual events.  It would come in handy some day he supposed.

***

Xander looked at David and grinned.  "Can I be on top tonight?"

"You shouldn't have promised those others that without checking first," he taunted lightly.  He wanted to work Xander up into a good claiming mood.  He wanted to be pounced.  They had survived a horrible thing nearly coming out to eat them all and he wanted to be pounced and cuddled.  Xander could and would if he was in the right mood.  "So, did you sleep with Bert too?"

"Bert?  Hell no!  He was uber-jock of the basketball team.  He did help during Graduation but nothing more than that.  I never wanted that pale, pimply ass.  Even the thought of it makes me shudder in horror and lose my hard on."

David smirked at him.  "How did you know what it looked like?"

"I had gym with the jocks and most of them went commando every day.  It made it easier to slip some to the girls they tormented and harassed."  He wiggled a bit closer and kissed him.  "Why do I think you're jealous?" he teased.

"I'm not, just wondering what number I was on the list."  He turned the page on his book.

"Twelve."

"Twelve?" he asked, looking at him again.

"Well, yeah, I got a bit wild on my roadtrip," he said sheepishly.  "Sorry to burst any bubbles."  He stole another kiss and grinned.  "But you're only number two on the guy side."

"That's handy to know."  He let Xander kiss him and steal his book this time.  "Let me guess, you're horny from the battle?" he teased.

Xander pounced, making David nearly fall off the bed, but it was a good pounce and exactly what he wanted.  This was a true Xander pounce and even if he didn't bottom, he wouldn't be sitting right tomorrow.

***

Xander bounced into the station the next day and grinned at everyone.  "Hi!"

"How much chocolate did you eat *this* time!" Ray demanded from the doorway behind him.

Xander beamed at him.  "Two cups of coffee and a natural cuddle high," he said proudly.  He bounced over to hug him.  "So I can share the wealth until I can find a suitably semi-slutty woman to date you."  He bounced again, heading up the stairs to gather the paperwork he knew he had, beaming at Welsh and hugging him.  "I love you."

"Kowalski, handcuff him," Welsh demanded, shoving Xander to get free of him.  "Damn octopus!"

"I am not," Xander pouted.  "I'm on a cuddle high and sharing the wealth."  He saw Fraser and Turnbull and hugged them then bounced back downstairs.  He hugged Ray again.  "Should I look for a brunette?"  Ray just stared at him so he beamed and went to bounce his coworkers around.  David was in but his door was closed and Xander knew better than to bounce over to hug him.  He hugged Mort, who chuckled.  "I'm on a natural cuddle high, with two cups of coffee."

The DNA tech glared at him.  "I quit!  This shit is too strange for me!  I want to work for a normal department, not this den of lunacy!"  She got up and stomped off.

Xander followed to give her a hug.  "We'll miss you," he promised, kissing her on the cheek.  "You're one of my favorite cranky straight women.  You and Sarah Sidle."  He went to his lab, giggling at the guns laid out for him.  "Wow, someone had a field trip," he called.

Mort looked at the DNA tech.  "He's not always like this," he reminded her.

"I don't care!  There's strange shit floating around here.  I either quit or I want transferred to Region one!" she yelled.

"Fine," Mort agreed phlegmatically.  "I'll arrange for you to head over there tonight and send Mortty back.  I do hope they suit you better, dear."  He smiled and shook her hand, calling them from the nearest phone.  Once she was gone, he looked around.  "We're getting Mortty back."  Xander let out a squeal and came out to hug him again then went back to work.  He could hear the test fires going on.

Mortty, the former DNA tech who had been forced to transfer, walked in and looked around the new area.  "Nothing much has changed," she said dryly.

Xander came out and hugged her, bouncing around with her.  "You're back!  You're back!  We love you and you're back!  I should get so lucky as to get David too!" he squealed, making her grin and hug him back, bouncing with him.   "I invited you but you missed the wedding!"

"I'm sorry but my mother was having a baby, she demanded I had to go watch.  Which was very ick-acious," she shared, smirking at him.  "David, can't I have a hug?"

"Give me a minute and calm him down some more," he called back.  "I'm in the middle of a sample."

"Sure."  She continued to bounce around with Xander until he came out and gave her a hug.  "I missed you, Dave."

"We missed having someone competent and nice here," he offered with a grin for her.  "Then again, we missed you for whole different reasons."

"Isn't he suave," Xander teased, pinching his honey on the butt.

Mort came out of his office, waving the phone.  "Xander, it's Vegas.  It's Greg."  He jogged over to get it, looking at Mortty.  "I have missed you as well," he promised.

"It's good to be missed."  She beamed at him, then at David.  "Sorry about the wedding, but mom demanded I be there when she had the final brat of the pack."

David shrugged but nodded.  "I understood, so did he.  You missed him shooting paintballs at the bigots and flirting with a nun to make her blush.  Come on, she's probably left the lab a mess."

"She's got an attendance problem from what I hear."

"Oh, that's putting it mildly," David assured her, walking her back to her lab.  "No coat?"

"I was off tonight.  I was going to bum one of Xander's since his fit better."  He got her one and handed it over with a smile.  "So, will I be working with that yummy Greg soon?"

"Probably," he agreed, watching as his mate ran past them, grabbed his jacket, then ran out of the office.  "Xander!"

"Go," she said, smiling at him.  He nodded and left, heading after his lunatic spouse.  Something must be wrong.  He had to take a cab to the airport since they had rode in together and Xander was already gone by the time he got outside. He managed to get a seat on a plane going that hour, but Xander was apparently on another flight, and he was off, racing after him.  He made it to the Las Vegas airport in time to hear someone announce Xander's name and rush after him but he was gone when he got to that point.  He did find his contact, Nick, and shook the living hell out of him.  "What is going on and where is Xander!" he demanded as he shook.

"Whoa!  Greg's been taken by some vampires!  We're not able to handle that!  He's going there.  Warrick's driving him!  I'll take you, just calm down, Hodges."  He walked him off, taking him out to his car to get him there.  Xander was apparently making him insane too.  Or at least paranoid and upset.  Either it was love or Hodges had turned into one of Xander's stalkers.  He pulled up outside the old abandoned club and let him go, handing him a stake when he opened the door.  "Be safe."

Hodges growled as he got out, going to open the door.

***

Xander walked into the bar and glared at the vampires around Greg.  "What the hell are you doing!" he shouted.  "You're making me worry about him!"

"No," Hydrinth offered, holding out a drink.  "We saved him from the untidy and dirty vampires who had him.  Welcome, Xander.  Come sit and relax.  Gregory is perfectly safe."

Xander glared at him.  "I should have someone put a soul in you."

"Now, now, that's not nice," Hydrinth complained, smirking at him.  "I promise, we did not harm Gregory, nor was he harmed by them.  The three newbies were no match to my clan."  He waved a hand around and everyone beamed at Xander and waved.  "Now, settle down and come have a drink with us, Xander."

"Fine."  He walked over, looking Greg over.  "You okay?"

"Better now," he slurred, looking very drunk.  "They were grungy and dirty and looked like a bad eighties metal hair band."  He passed out on the bar.

"We thought it best to lubricate his panic," Tyler, Hydrinth's second in command, noted quietly.  He poured Xander a shot.  "They were stupid enough to put the video of capturing him on the internet.  I had Paulette pull it and put on a note that he had been rescued and was fine, and where to find him.  Did his coworkers send you?"  Xander pursed his lips and nodded, not looking happy.  "I know you're worried, but we like Gregory.  He was a friend of yours and told us this hilarious story about you and a salsa club."  He grinned at him.  "Can you please relax and drop the stake?"   The door opened and he beamed.  "You must be David!" he squealed, rushing over to hug him.  "It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"Down, boy.  Mine!" Xander said, swatting at him.  "When did you get here?"

"I followed you, moron," David said, glaring at him, then at the passed out Greg.  "Is he all right?"

"Drunk.  They lubricated his squealing in fear away."  Xander sat down, taking his drink and sipping it.  "Eww, what is this?"

"Whiskey?" Tyler offered hesitantly.

"Ick.  Bad whiskey, not even good whiskey.  Am I being demoted in your love life?"

"Mine," David growled.

Hydrinth sighed in pleasure, clapping his hands together.  "You two are so cute!  And he's protective, something our little Xander has always needed."

"I'm calling Rosenburg and having her soul you," David snarled, coming over to look Xander over.  "Are you all right?"

"Fine, dear," he agreed happily.  David had came after him!  It was something no one had ever done before.

"Why are you smiling?" Tyler asked.

"No one ever comes after me," Xander said happily.  "David did."  He kissed his mate, hard, making him drop his stake and wobble closer.  "I love you.  With everything in me I love you."  He kissed him again.  "You're the most wonderful man in the whole wide world."

"I'm going to go stake those women," David complained, but let Xander wear it out on him.  "We came after you while you were here."

"Yeah but that was official stuff.  This isn't.  You left work for me and traveled this far and I love you for it."

Hydrinth sighed, smiling at them.  "I love true love."  He looked over as the door opened.  "Ah, you must be Captain Brass, and I know the naughty boy behind you is Mr. Grissom.  Do come in, we're not the mean ones who took Gregory from his car.  They've become unfortunate dinner choices."  He burped delicately and looked at Greg, then back at the older men.  "We let him lubricate his fear a bit."

"So he's drunk then?" Brass asked.  Hydrinth nodded.  "Xander?"  Xander pulled away to look at him.  "You okay?"

"These guys used to be my poker buddies in LA.  They're good folk for being undead."  The door was kicked in and he threw his stake at the idiot stomping in wearing black leather.  He noticed the blood and winced.  "Oops.  Sorry."  He looked at the nearest vampire.  "Who's he?"

"Vargas.  It's a stage name.  We think he's some rich kid from the North East but he's pretending to be a knight now and trying to hunt.  He thought a Latino name would make him more feared and wanted with the ladies."

Xander got up, putting David in his spot to keep it warm, then walked over there to pull out his stake.  "Hi, Xander Harris," he said with a smirk.  The man gaped at him.  "So…you wanna be a knight?  What sort of training did you go through?"

"School, martial arts."

"Which is nice if you're against normal humans but vampires are faster."

"You're turned," he gasped.

"No, no I'm not," he said with a fond smirk.  "I'm a knight.  I'm the knight of Sunnydale and a former one of LA."  The vampires all moaned at that. "Quit, guys."  He looked at the man again.  "Sorry about the stake but you look like a vamp."  He pulled him up, looking at the stomach wound.  "Eh, it's nothing.  I had worse than that from a pool cue and sparring with Fred.  Now there was a woman who was fast, even though she was alive."  The man whimpered a bit, staring at him.  "Now then, if you're going to be a knight, you really should use your own name.  There's not much risk, even if you've got a very distinctive name like Dinglehopper or something like that.  Most of them won't go after your family for you tormenting them.  They go after your friends first.  That's their modus operandi.  That's just how they are," he said at the confused look.  "See, there's a few things you should read first, like Vampire manuals put out by the Watchers.  You really should go to Cleveland and let Giles train you, buddy.  It's the fastest way to become me if you wanted.  And let's face it, with you wanting to be a knight, you obviously want to."  He beamed at him.  "So, use your own name, quit watching Anne Rice movies because she did get some stuff wrong.  Trust me, Buffy and Angel had the sex at least that once."

"He seems to think we're all Kindred," Hydrinth offered from the bar.  "Drinks, gentlemen?"

"No, thanks, we're on duty," Brass assured him.  He walked over to check on Greg, finding him snoring into the wood.  He looked at David.  "You chased him?"

"Yeah, he took off before I could include myself."  He grimaced at his mate, who was talking to the boy still.  "Send him to the hospital, Xan.  Let me recuperate and think.  After all, he's got to learn he's mortal sometime soon.  Hopefully before he loses an eye or worse."

"I realized it when the troll hammer struck me in two," Xander assured him with a grin.  "Plus I had a nasty flash of mortality during graduation."  He looked at the kid again, grinning gently and paternally at him.  "When you've gone to Cleveland and gotten some training, come see us in Chicago and I'll let you hunt in part of my city.  With some training you might do okay."

"You…you lost an eye?"

"Yeah, but I was fighting a minion of the First Evil at the time," he promised.  "You don't usually get things like that, just fast little suckers like the vampire trying to clean your wound for you."  He nudged him with a knee as the guy looked down in horror.  "It won't turn you."

"No!" he shrieked, backing up.  "No!  This is wrong!"

"No, kid, this is life," David said dryly.  "You wanted this job, now accept responsibility and do the job."  The man screamed and left, and David looked at all the vampires vamped out.  "Guys, eww."  They all returned and clinked glasses before going back to their party.  He looked at Grissom.  "Should I try to wake Greg?"

"No, I think Greg would do well with you guys for a while," Grissom told him.  "Something here has been targeting him since Xander was here."

"We stopped them," Tyler assured him.

"Yes, but we've had eighteen vampires coming awake in our morgue in the last year," Grissom responded kindly.  "It's getting a bit too much."

"Which family clan is that from?" Xander asked Tyler.

"I'm not sure, ducks, I just barely got out here.  I do know that there's a few out here from someone Spike turned.  Some of his minions.  They're the ones who broke into a Founding Member's home and had a blood orgy, which he came home to find.  He made them clean it up too when he found out they weren't dead, then had one of his boys kindly take them out to see the sunrise in the desert."

"Hell, send the rest to Cleveland.  I'm sure he'll be pleased to lord over his family and stop them."  He kissed him on the cheek, then kissed David on the lips.  "We really should go soon."

"No, stay tonight," Brass offered dryly, patting him on the back.  "Take care of some of this and take Sanders with you when you go back."  He walked out with Grissom, going to tell everyone what had happened and that Greg was safe and going back to Chicago, for good if they could arrange it.  He'd be safer there with Xander watching over him.   Maybe they'd all be safer if Xander was back to watch over them, but you couldn't take him from Chicago.  So either they all moved, or they all stayed and let Xander protect Greg for a while.  Then they'd get Greg back.  In the meantime, Greg would be happy, Xander would have someone to club with again, and David would have someone to complain to about having a husband who was geekier than he was.  So it'd all work out in the end.  As long as the trio didn't destroy the world.

Table of Contents

Xander Goes Ballistic. 2

Ballistics in Danger 204

Ballistic in Chicago. 230

Strange Ballistics. 389