Cassandra - You're right. I was mean... very mean. However, you don't have to wait another 16 chapters. I wasn't going to do it in this chapter, but decided, what the hey?

wraiths-angel - hehehehe, yup, poor Nick. It's true, I'm mean. So, I'm going to be nice now!

After Nick had left, Cheryl had tried to get some more sleep, but her sleep had been plagued with more dreams like the first on she had. Not that they weren't pleasant – they just confused the hell out of her. Was her heart actually telling her she liked Nick? She couldn't… surely? She'd already had one relationship with a colleague, and look how that turned out.

She sighed, went to try and have a shower, but soon gave up on that one when she remembered that the shower was powered by electricity. Instead, she got dressed and decided to head to the Lab – it wasn't like she was going to be able to do much, what with having no power, and all.

The lab was even quieter than it had been the previous day, but at least it had power. Cheryl decided the first thing she was doing was having a shower, followed by some breakfast of some kind. Great plans in theory, only the breakfast part never came into fruition. Instead she was stopped by Sofia.

'You're in today?'

Cheryl nodded, 'no power, and nothing better to do.'

'Good. We have a crime scene to process then.'

'What have you got for me?'

'Your car, silly.'

Cheryl laughed, 'it's been called in, then.'

'Did it half an hour ago,' Sofia told her as they walked outside.

'Where are you guys off to?' It was Nick.

Cheryl blushed and looked at the floor.

'To process her car,' Sofia told him, 'are you going to come with us?'

'Sure. I'm supposed to be working today anyway,' he shrugged as he joined them.

Several hours later, and Cheryl's car was in the garage being processed – in other words, she was taking it apart, piece by piece, and it was killing her. Especially as they had found only a handful of prints, which Nick was currently running.

By mid afternoon, Nick had returned. 'We got a lead.'

Cheryl wheeled herself out from underneath the car and looked up at him, 'what?'

'A print matched a Tony Cruz – in the system for a dozen speeding offences. Sofia went to his last know address and spoke to the landlady. Only he left a few weeks back.'

'And that's a lead, how?'

'The landlady said he's left a forwarding address. She's on her way in with it.'

Cheryl nodded, 'alright, I'll finish up here and come join you.'

'Okay. I'll see you in a while.'

Big lips, perfect figure, long legs, immaculate hair – that was Cindy, the landlady. Still dressed in her overalls, a few smudges of oil on her face, Cheryl was leaning against a wall watching the two flirt with each other.

'So, that's my number at the top there,' Cindy was saying, twirling her hair around her finger, standing coyly on one of those bare legs.

'Is it really?' Nick asked her, a huge grin on his face.

'You should call it sometime. I love a man who carries such a big gun.'

Cheryl had heard enough. She silently turned away and headed back to the break room where she slunk onto the couch. There was no way she could compete with that… hang on… compete? She sighed and led her head fall back against the couch back.

'I would have thought you would be in Miami with your uncle.'

Cheryl opened her eyes and found Catherine staring down at her. 'I'd have thought you would have been at home with your daughter,' she countered.

Catherine smiled, 'she's in the car. I only came in because I left one of her Christmas presents in my locker.'

Cheryl nodded, 'how did you know I was going to Miami?'

'Your uncle.'

'You speak to my uncle?'

'Yeah, he made me promise to keep an eye on you after I got shot.'

Cheryl's eyes widened in understanding, 'you're how he knows about me being trapped in that pit.'

Catherine nodded, 'yeah. Sorry. I wasn't going to say anything, but he has a way of getting information out of you.'

Cheryl was amazed – even Catherine was susceptible to Horatio's powers. 'Don't worry. He would have found out one way or another.'

'When do you leave, then?'

'In a few days. Me and Nick are spending New Years there.'

'You and Nick?'

'Catherine,' sighed Cheryl, 'he's not interested in me like that. He's currently exchanging numbers with that plastic filled model out there.'

'Oh, is that jealousy?'

'No!'

'Then why are you in here sulking?'

I'm not sulking. I… I… So, you and Warrick?'

Catherine sat down next to her, 'yeah. I think so.'

'What about Tina?'

'I think that's over.'

Cheryl leant over and hugged the mother figure, 'that's great, Cath.'

'Thanks. Look, I can't stay. Lindsay will have a fit if I take any longer. Just do me a favour,' she requested as she started walking out of the door. 'Get yourself out of denial land. It will make yourself feel a lot better.'

Cheryl watched her leave. Denial land? What was that supposed to mean?

By the end of the day, Tony Cruz was in custody. The address the bimbo had given them had been current and Sofia had arrested him, much to Cheryl's delight. He was also talking about coughing up Dallas for a lighter sentence. Which meant that Cheryl could put the paperwork in for her to get her car back.

In the meantime, Cheryl had managed to work herself into a very bad mood, for reasons she couldn't, or rather, wouldn't admit to. After discovering that the power was still off at hers, and after feeding Eddie and Seth, she decided that the best course of action involved a nice dose of alcohol. So she drove to a little way to a small bar.

Cheryl walked into the small country-esque bar and sat down at the bar, ignoring the looks she was getting from the less-than-appealing clientele. As soon as the bartender wandered over, she ordered herself a shot of tequila, then changed her mind, telling the tender that he may as well leave the bottle with her instead. Before he could voice the objections he was clearly going to, she pulled out her platinum credit card and slapped it on the bar. There was no way anyone was going to come between her and the alcohol tonight. Lord knows after the day she had, she needed it.

By her seventh… glass… she had almost 'rationalized' that the reason she was concerned – not jealous in the slightest – was because the woman had seemed like a scam-artist, and was probably about ten years older than she had told Nick, and she was merely concerned over the well-being of a very good friend and colleague. Almost.

By the eleventh glass, she had convinced herself that the only reason she had thought she was attracted to Nick was because he kind of reminded her of Tim. Of course, the ONLY resemblances the two had were that they were both CSIs, and both had dark hair. But that's what eleven glasses of tequila would do.

By the fourteenth, the alcohol had burnt away her taste buds to the point that not even limes were needed. By the fourteenth, she had also convinced herself that the guy sat next to her, with greasy hair, a beer belly, and three teeth missing, who also looked old enough to be her grandfather, was beginning to look attractive.

It was part way through her fifteenth when Nick, Warrick and Greg walked in. The three had decided that an easy evening of darts and beer to celebrate Christmas was in order (well, Greg had just returned from the family dinner from hell, and Tina had announced she was working), and didn't notice their young, blonde colleague leaning against the bar in the corner, her head in her hand, sipping at the amber liquid, until they themselves had been stood at the bar and had taken their first mouthfuls of beer.

It was Greg who noticed her first, elbowing Warrick, 'guys, isn't that our Cheryl?'

The two men turned to look where he was nodding.

'Ugh,' groaned Cheryl as the three men headed over to her. 'Of all the bars, in all of Vegas, you had to walk into mine.' The guys were impressed – even though she was slurring slightly, she had still managed to retain her wit.

'How much have you had?' Greg asked her, picking up the now half-full bottle of José Cuervo. He glanced over at the barman who had heard what he had asked and was indicating that the bottle had been full.

Nick looked from the barman to Cheryl, then to his two male friends. 'I'm gonna cancel on the game, guys.' Warrick nodded his head, understanding immediately what he was saying. Greg on the other hand, wasn't reading the message loud and clear. He was about to sit down next to his drunken friend, when Warrick grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him away from the two.

Thankfully, Cheryl was that drunk, she didn't notice his yelps of protests. She wasn't that drunk, however, to not notice Nick pull up a stool beside her. 'Your date didn't go all that well, then?'

Nick frowned at the bitterness in her voice, 'what date?'

'Chrissy, or Britney, or whatever the bimbo's name was.' She may have been ever-so slightly inebriated, but she knew the girl's name.

Nick held back a smirk. She was jealous. 'Cindy?'

Cheryl wafted her hand at him, 'whatever.'

'I never pegged you for the jealous type.'

'Jealous? Me? Of her?' Cheryl scoffed, 'puh-lease. Why would I be jealous of someone who has less brain cells than my ferret?'

'The woman was an investment broker.'

'And Seth can open bottles. It's not like there's much difference.'

Nick suppressed another smile, 'so why are you sat here by yourself?'

'I'm not here by myself.' She sat up and pointed behind Nick, 'I'm enjoying a drink with my friend Sam, here.'

'Chuck,' said the semi-toothless man, displaying a gummy grin, 'but you can call me Sam, darling.'

'Yeah, like I said, Chad.'

This time, Nick couldn't hold back the small laugh. 'I think it's about time we got you home to bed.' He told her, nodding to the barman that he wanted to close the tab. He came over with the bill, but Nick put his card down, telling him to use that rather than Cheryl's. Cheryl, who was busy pouring herself yet another glass was oblivious to the act of chivalry that was going on next to her. Until he tried to take the tequila bottle away.

'What are you doing?'

'I told you, taking you home.'

'I have no power. And I was enjoying that tequila,' she growled at him.

'Ah, a mean drunk,' he said pulling her to her feet. She tried to resist, but the alcohol wasn't letting her. Instead, she (unwillingly, admittedly) allowed him to lead her out to her car and sat her down in the passenger seat.

'Nick, this is your place,' she mumbled a short time later.

'You said your place had no power.'

'… good point.'

Nick laughed and pulled up outside his house. 'Come on, lets get you a hot chocolate.'

'You could get me some more tequila,' she grumbled as she walked in and threw herself down on the couch.

Nick appeared a few minutes later with a steaming hot cup of hot chocolate and sat down next to her, handing her the mug.

Cheryl took the mug but stared at it, rather than drinking it.

'What's up?' Nick asked her, softly.

'Nothing.'

'Don't give me that. You're useless at hiding your emotions.'

'There's nothing wrong, Nick. So why don't you just call me a cab, let me go back to the bar, and then you can call Carly.'

'Cindy.'

'Whatever. I was enjoying the tequila.' She ran her finger around the rim of the mug. 'I can't compete with that.'

Nick frowned, 'compete with what?'

'Never mind.' She set her drink down and got up, making her way to the door.

Nick leapt to his feet and grabbed her before she could leave, turning her back around to face her. She was crying. 'Hey,' he said softly, 'hey, hey, what's with the tears?'

'I'm not a Barbie.'

Nick frowned, 'I know you're not.'

'But you deserve a Barbie. You deserve someone that-'

'What are you trying to tell me, Cheryl?'

'I like you, alright. It turns out I actually like you a lot. But I don't have perfect hair and I don't wear make-up, and-'

'Cheryl.'

'And I don't wear skirts, and I like cars, and I prefer playing on a Playstation to pampering myself-'

Cheryl!'

'I hate wearing heels, and I'm not a girly girl, and-'

Nick rolled his eyes and kissed her.

When he finally pulled away, Cheryl just stood there blinking at him. 'Now that I have finally gotten you to shut up… I like you too. I don't want Cindy, I don't want a Barbie. I want you.'

'I'm dreaming again, aren't I?'

'Dreaming?' He leant over, 'could a dream do this?' He kissed her again.

'You did last night,' she panted. 'And a lot more too.'

Nick cocked his head, 'oh really?'

'I'm not dreaming, am I?'

He laughed, 'I'm afraid not. Come on,' he said pulling her away from the door, 'let's get you in bed.'

Cheryl stopped, 'I may be on the wrong side of sober right now, but I'm not like that, Nick.'

Nick smiled, 'I know. And that's part of why I like you. However, the spare bed has been stripped, and the worst place to wake up with a hangover is the couch, so you're having my bed. And I'm sleeping with you, and you are not leaving my arms tonight.'

Cheryl smiled shyly, 'I'd like that.'