Cross The Line; Go The Distance

Pairing: Jared/Jensen [J2/CSI Crossover]
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 10,800
Disclaimer: Very much not mine.
Summary: Third in the J2 CSI 'Verse. Sequel to Corpus Delicti and Evidence In Context Will most likely not make sense without having read those first.


Jensen can feel how much Jared needs this, needs to be controlling it. It's a way to show Jensen how much he'd been missed, what the separation meant. Words could only go so far, not always Jared's specialty. The actions speak volumes to Jensen, and for a man who professionally dissects conversations, he's reading Jared's silence like a book.



"And there's this wicked bloody set we're using today, made me think about you."

"Now that's romantic."

Jensen Ackles hears his boyfriend's deep laugh over the phone, pictures the way Jared's eyes close and his nose scrunches up. Jared's going on about his morning while Jensen winds down from his uneventful night, phone pressed between cheek and shoulder as he settles on the couch with his take out.

"So yeah, I think we finish up on this set tomorrow," Jared continues, oblivious to Jensen eating. "Then a couple more scenes and we're done. Well, for now, hopefully."

"Seriously?" Jensen quickly swallows his Mongolian Beef.

"Yeah, man. I think I can be back in Vegas next week."

"No need to rush, Jare," Jensen lets the shortened name slip out; it's not the first time, and Jared hasn't commented.

"So you're not going crazy without me?" Jared teases.

"Nah, I'm good," he jokes back, unmuting his television and hitting play on the DVD remote.

He hears a door clang shut over the line, background chatter suddenly silenced.

"I bet," Jared says. "Anyway, I've got a break right now for who knows how long. They're fixing something on set. Figured I'd say hi, thought you might be bored-"

There's a scream from the movie Jensen had been watching, loud enough for Jared to hear. His boyfriend stops talking, makes a strange noise.

"Jensen..."

""Mmm?"

"What the hell are you watching?" Jared manages to choke out.

"Just something I rented," Jensen attempts to keep the smirk out of his voice, but Jared can catch it. He turns the volume up, knows he's already busted, positive it can be heard in California.

"Is - Jensen, is that Cry Wolf?"

"That's what it's called? I rented it because Jon Bon Jovi's in it."

"Jensen!"

He can't help it, breaks down laughing. Knows Jared's sputtering and freaking out.

"Seriously, man, he's a shit actor."

"I can't believe you," Jared yells, disbelief rather than anger adding force to his words. "I told you not to watch that!"

"No, you wouldn't let me and now you're not here to stop me."

"Clearly, this is you not going crazy without me," Jared remarks, shocked.

"Would you rather be watching it with me?"

"Hell no, I'd rather you not watch it at all!"

Onscreen, a younger Jared Padalecki is yelling at someone, voice not as strong as the shouting Jensen's hearing now.

Jared's listening to the dialogue, groaning. "This is weird. Come on, turn it off."

"I like the school uniform, Jare. Really cheesy lines though."

"Didn't really have a choice - wait, did you just call me Jare?"

"Yeah, is that weird?" Jensen counters.

"Nah, it's fine, just-"

Jared's character argues loudly with another; his Jared pauses and sighs. "You're not gonna turn it off, are you?"

"You look good," Jensen concedes, lowers the volume. "Can you blame me?"

"Dude," Jared ribs, "I was like twenty two."

"Still look good."

"You're sweet, shut up."

"Come on," Jensen responds. "If I was in a movie, you'd be watching it right now."

"Trying to tell me you made a movie, Jensen?"

Jared's voice shifts, lower and dirtier. "I hope it was a porn."

"I'd be a horrible actor."

"Wouldn't matter, I'd watch it."

"There you go being romantic again."

Jensen's got a young version of his boyfriend onscreen, the real thing in his ear. He slides lower on the couch, gets an idea.

"You don't still have that uniform, do you?" Jared must pick up on the change in Jensen's voice, tone deepened to match. "Be a shame if you had it and didn't put it to good use."

"Jensen, what are you doing?"

"Just what you said, Jare," he breathes, hoping Jared catches on. "Going crazy without you."

"Shit, are you...now, Jensen?"

"Can't help it," Jensen rubs his palms down his thighs, food forgotten.

He hadn't expected the call to head in this direction - their schedules are a pain to work around - but it's far from the first time and he's not complaining. Jensen can feel his blood start to move, arousal never distant where Jared is concerned.

"I make you that hot, Jensen?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," he sighs, pops the button on his slacks.

"I believe it, don't worry."

Jensen's taking his time, rubbing himself through his pants.

"Come on, Jensen, move it along." Figures Jared would know, cutting through verbal foreplay and getting down to what Jensen needs. "Open them all the way."

He does, pulls his half-hard dick out and waits.

"What about you?" Jensen wonders.

"Can't, need to work. It's fine Jensen, just let me..."

A loud, metallic banging over the line interrupts them and Jensen hears Jared swear.

"Just a minute!" Jared barks. Jensen can barely make out the sound of someone talking to Jared, but even muffled he can tell Jared's beyond annoyed.

"I will kill whoever that is," Jensen mutters, mostly to himself, doesn't think Jared would hear him.

"Sorry, Jensen," he comes back. "That was a P.A. telling me they're ready to start shooting again."

"You're joking."

"You wish, I have to run," Jared says quickly. "Gotta get paid."

"Your crew has horrible timing," Jensen groans. "Call me when you can, I guess."

"Will do. Oh, and Jensen?" Jared adds before he can hang up. "Don't kill anyone, I'll make it up to you."

"I'm still thinking about it, and I could do it without leaving a trace of evidence."

"I bet you could. Enjoy yourself!" Jared laughs as he ends the call.

Jensen throws the phone on the couch, doesn't care where it lands. He's frustrated, but understands, relaxes a little knowing that their separation is almost over. Grabbing the remote, he raises the movie's volume again. It's a poor substitute, this two-dimensional Jared, but it'll get him through.

His fists his dick, doesn't let the arousal wane, strokes himself slowly and closes his eyes.

Only a week left to go.

***

Jared's been in Los Angeles nearly three weeks. Not an eternity, but life in Vegas moves at light speed. Time's different in the city of sin, day and night interchangeable.

While his boyfriend films the pilot episode of Key of Solomon, Jensen's worked on over a dozen homicides, written countless reports, gone fifty two hours without sleep, and appeared in court four times.

Some of it is on purpose; he's putting in longer hours, distracting himself. In the lab he can forget about Jared, focus on his job. Being at home is harder, reminders everywhere. Jared hadn't brought many of his things to Jensen's house, but he left some behind. A few t-shirts mixed with Jensen's laundry, a pair of flip-flops sitting by the back door, Jared's disgusting Red Bull left in the fridge.

It's not painful, but it definitely sucks. Jensen's not used to missing someone. He misses Texas, his family, but Jared's absence is more acute and, hopefully, nearly over.

His team's noticed the extra hours. No one comments. They've all done the same thing for various reasons; overwhelming personal lives, a case that digs too deep, an obsession that won't go away. Hard as the job can get, processing's easy to get lost in and that's an appealing option.

Evidence is much easier to deal with than other people, even those on the same team.

As much as the five of them talk at work, Jensen knows they hardly share and care. Some of them play at it; Warrick and Nick bonding over exploits, Catherine joining in to share, since her stories put the boys' to shame. Jensen and Sara are the quieter two, academics at their cores. But there's too much hidden between them all, a lot they'll never say, and Jensen knows he's still the outsider.

For all the ways Jensen and Sara are similar, it's the hardest with her. There are good moments and bad ones. Tonight, they'd been examining a large photo array, Sara making a subtle joke with a sly smirk. It's something she might have said to Grissom, forgetting that he'd never again stand on the other side of the table. Jensen sees the hurt in her eyes when she realizes it too.

Catherine's better, she's been around long enough to be cynical, a quality Jensen can almost admire. He knows she was hurt when he was chosen over her to replace Gil, but she knows the skeletons in her closet better than anyone else.

"You'd have been a good choice," Jensen told her once, shortly after.

"I know that," Catherine never masked what she was feeling. "Can't help it if they didn't."

"Could find a supervisory position at another lab, you're more than qualified," he'd added.

"Leave Vegas?" She laughed. "I've been here too long to ever leave. I'd stick out like a dead body anywhere else."

Which is true, Jensen imagines. They're a strange group, he knows, but at least in Vegas they blend in. The C.S.I.s are hardly freaks in this city.

He thinks Warrick is the easiest to get along with, at least they have an understanding. Private but friendly, no attempts to reach out every chance they get. There's almost no baggage between them, though he knows how much of a mentor Gil would have been.

With Nick, he knows why they bonded so quickly and superficially at first. Shared lifestyles, shared origins were a good place to start, but when it started to evolve into something Jensen wasn't comfortable with, he'd backed off.

Jensen wants Nick to look closer at the relationship he has with Greg. He can't help but think about it when he sees them together. It's not about looks or lifestyles. They fit, turn to each other in mischief and misery.

Like Jensen and Jared.

It's been a relatively quiet night and once Jensen's finished working with Sara, he returns to his office to catch up on other work, lets Warrick and Cath head out on the last call they're likely to get tonight.

There's a tough question bouncing around in Jensen's head, wonders if he would have gotten so close to Jared if his team's interest in each other's lives weren't so shallow. It's why he reached out to Jared in the first place, needed someone to let go to.

A year and a half working nights and five years in Las Vegas, Jensen had built up so much. Meeting Jared that crazy night, finding that person he could connect to, it was remarkably easy. Never thought himself capable of such an attachment, but he'd needed it as much as Jared. More, as it happened. Those first few days are vivid memories now - initial conversations leading to more than Jensen ever expected.

It's doesn't matter much now, Jensen's contemplations. He's got Jared, will really have him back in a couple days.

Glancing at the clock, Jensen figures he can log in a few more hours before heading home.

He can only pray Vegas will be merciful over the next week.

***

"Hey, Ackles," Warrick's calling him from across the hall. "Greg got a hit on that DNA sample from a bone marrow donors' database."

"Bone marrow? Seriously?" Jensen stands from where he's hunched over a microscope in Hodges' lab. "Imagine the chances. Why would he even be checking that?"

"Nick and I bet Greg he'd never match our vic's DNA," he pauses, laughs. "So did you, by the way. You owe Sanders five bucks."

Jensen chuckles and rubs his eyes before slipping his glasses back on. He hates microscopes, convinced he'll go blind at fifty from eyestrain. He's been in a good mood all night, only a few days left before Jared comes back. They haven't been able to talk much - Jared wrapped up in final days of filming.

"Sofia wants to check out our vic's house now," Warrick says, but the lab's intercom cuts him off, calling Jensen to the main reception desk.

He waves Warrick on. "I was having a courier bring some files from Reno, should only take a minute. Grab everything we need and I'll meet you in the garage."

Ignoring whatever Hodges is saying, Jensen leaves the room, eager to get out of the building. The shift's half over, but it's been dragging, no thanks in part to David's rambling, a previously unidentifiable victim, and nonstop texts from Jared.

Diana, the night desk clerk, smiles. "Hey, Jensen."

"Heard the page, did my courier show up?"

"Um, no actually," she nods behind him. "You have a visitor."

He turns around, no idea who to expect, and comes face to face with Jared.

"Holy shit," he breathes, right before Jared graces him with a huge smile, reaching out and pulling Jensen towards him.

Lost for a moment, he can't resist grasping his boyfriend, fingers tightening in Jared's jacket, feels the arms around him squeeze and hang on.

A shrill ring from the phone at the reception desk, and they break apart, Jensen standing and staring.

"...The hell are you doing here?" He's not sure Jared can actually hear him, words caught in his throat, but his face is easy to read.

"Filming wrapped earlier than I said," the younger man answers excitedly, eyes never leaving Jensen's face. "Figured I'd surprise you."

"And those text messages?"

"I'm a brilliant manipulator, what can I say?" Jared shrugs, smirks at Jensen.

They're both just waiting there, people moving around them. Jensen's cell beeps, it's Warrick.

"Hey," he says, picking it up. "You mind taking this one alone? Tell Sofia I'll be along later if you're still there."

Hanging up, he sees Jared looking around awkwardly. He's not attracting stares; the lab gets plenty of visitors, though rarely for casual reasons, but Jensen feels exposed. He doesn't want to take his eyes off Jared, but he shifts on his feet, has to make it back to his office.

"Want to see the lab?" And Jensen knows he sounds lame. Jared's dropped him off before, never been inside.

"Yeah sure," Jared looks pretty amused, follows Jensen away from reception.

He barely notices anyone they pass - no introductions, no banter, just Jared's presence alongside. He glimpses Catherine and Archie look his way as they walk by. Jensen has a thousand things to tell Jared, but can't. Waits until they're behind frosted glass and a locked door.

"Nice place," Jared's smirking. "Shitty tour, though."

"Sorry about that," he pauses. "God, you really surprised me. I'm still a little shocked."

"Good surprise, right?"

"Hell yes."

Jensen steps back, wants a full look at his boyfriend.

The short goatee he'd gotten so used to is gone. His face is smooth again, moles standing out sharply on the intimately familiar visage. Jared's hair is sleeker, pushed away from his face and curling at his neck; Jensen's fingers suddenly ache to touch.

He's dressed sharply; black leather jacket, soft t-shirt, and jeans Jensen wouldn't be able to afford. The flip-flops are familiar, worn and shaped perfectly to Jared's feet.

"Do I look like a slacker turned FBI agent?" Jared refers to his character, lets Jensen stare as much as he wants.

"No FBI agent I've ever worked with," he throws back. "Can't wait to see your show. Did you have to wear a suit?"

"Yep, looked damn good in it too."

Jared smiles, large and carefree, and Jensen's on him fast, kissing him like it's been a year instead of less than a month. Lips feel the same against his, supple and aggressive tongue reacquainting itself with Jensen's mouth.

Jensen's mortified just thinking about throwing Jared on the couch - he can't help how his mind works when Jared's part of the equation, reason and rationale swiftly parting company.

But Jared's having similar thoughts, pushing him away from the door as they're making out.

"Jare, hey," he tries, lets the kiss last a moment longer before he backs off. "I can't - not here. Want to - holy fuck, I want to. But no."

"Got somewhere to be?"

"No, but shit," Jensen rubs a hands over his own stubbled cheek. "I'd never be able to get work done in here again if we did."

Jared laughs, and God, Jensen's missed that.

"Fair enough."

Thinking he's more than content to continue kissing Jared, Jensen reaches out again, but is stopped by the ring of his cell.

"Fuck."

He grabs it out of his pocket, hears Sofia's scratchy voice.

"I know Warrick said you were busy, Ackles, but there's tons to get through over there and everyone else is on other cases."

Jensen looks at his watch, a few hours left. He can manage.

Then he sees the gorgeous man perched against his desk and reconsiders. This is going to suck.

"Yeah, Sofia," he's resigned. "I'll be there in ten, let me finish up here." He's grabbing for his scene vest before he even hangs up, guesses his kit is in the truck Warrick took.

"Sorry," he apologizes for the second time since he saw Jared, glancing at his boyfriend who's getting his chance to take in Jensen from head to toe.

"S'all right," Jared drawls, eyes stuck on the overly reflective black vest. "I figured I wouldn't be able to get you out of here right away, but I had to...you know."

Jared pats his coat, finds a set of keys. "I'll head to your house, okay?"

Jared already had the key to Jensen's home; he hadn't made a big deal of giving it to him. Just a simple "you're gonna need this," a few weeks ago.

"I'll try to hurry."

"You can take your time if you bring that vest home."

Jensen drops his phone. "What?"

There's no response, just a grin. Jensen starts to wonder if he's dreamed up the entire night.

"Can we save the role playing for after my shift?" He sighs, knowing the time's gonna move even slower now - he's got something to look forward to.

"Whatever you want, Jensen."

"Jesus, Jare, stop it or I'll never get out of here."

"Fine," he doesn't sound put out, more likely pleased with himself for riling Jensen so badly. "Go be a hot investigator then."

Jared moves close, leans into Jensen's space. He tilts his neck, eyelids lowered, tries to reach for Jared's lips but there's only air. Opens his eyes, sees Jared already at the door.

"Have fun, Jensen," and he slips out quietly. "I'll find my own way out."

Jensen takes a deep breath, needs it.

"Shit," he mutters to the empty office, then heads for the garage.

***

The house is dark when Jensen walks in, the best blackout shades he could afford doing their job. It's the last thing he notices before he's slammed against his foyer wall.

The leather jacket is gone, Jensen can only feel bared arms and soft cotton as Jared presses into him, mouths tangled together. They're not kissing; Jared is devouring him.

"Could have been anyone walking through that door," he exhales, Jared's teeth biting along his jaw.

"You scuff your feet on the threshold," is all he hears in return.

Jared's hands grip his biceps; Jensen's held nearly immobile through the onslaught. He can only groan as his tongue is sucked into Jared's mouth, nose pressed into Jared's cheek.

Jensen can feel how much Jared needs this, needs to be controlling it. It's a way to show Jensen how much he'd been missed, what the separation meant. Words could only go so far, not always Jared's specialty. The actions speak volumes to Jensen, and for a man who professionally dissects conversations, he's reading Jared's silence like a book.

A frustrated whine rumbles in Jared's throat, begging Jensen to let go, stop thinking. He does, knows his time will come later.

He doesn't need to think now, just feel.

They end up kneeling on the couch, Jared's favorite spot, clothes ripped off between there and the wall. Jared's bowed backwards, thighs hard and straining as he guides Jensen's mouth, large hands palming the older man's scalp. He tongues hard nipples, lips ghosting along Jared's underarm, nose tracing the outlines of solid muscle.

Jared's dick is hard and pushing against his abdomen, his own rubbing deliciously on Jared's quad. With a low growl, long fingers tighten in Jensen's hair and he's suddenly the one bent backwards, Jared's hot mouth dropping to his cock, wet and torturing. His hands find purchase on the cushion below, doesn't want to lose balance and throw them both on the floor.

Fingers abandon his scalp, now Jared's hands span his lower back, holding him and supporting him. Jensen can't even work his hips, Jared taking care of that, his hands squeezing, thrusting Jensen's ass the way he wants. All Jensen can do is watch, try not to lose himself completely, seeing his flesh swallowed by Jared, lips red from the effort.

He thinks the sounds they're making go beyond obscene, Jared moaning around his dick, Jensen muttering a mixture of pleas and encouragements. His hips are being pumped in a perfect rhythm, body all nerves, feels every flick and scrape of Jared's expert tongue along his shaft, throat muscles massaging the head. Jensen wants to scream, can't. His voice is useless beyond gasped appeals, eyes busy taking in the way Jared's looking up at him. He hates that the only thing he can think of is slut, not even sure who he's applying the word to. It's all so much more than that.

But Jared's reduced him to this; he's desperate for anything.

He's seconds from coming when Jared pulls off, saliva covering his lips and Jensen's dick. Jared moves him, Jensen's thighs burning at the change in position, Jared now blanketing him against the back of the couch. He can feel the lips at the back of his neck, hand on his cock keeping him just right there. Jared's other hand spreads across his chest, thumb rubbing his nipple.

It's quiet for a moment, harsh pants the only thing cutting the silence, until Jared's mouth opens along the corded muscle of Jensen's neck. Intimate knowledge not forgotten during their time apart, Jensen thinks, molds to the larger body behind him and knows what's coming.

Sharp teeth and supple lips attack his throat, stomach clenching in paralyzing arousal. Jared knows exactly where to bite and suck, Jensen's spine locking, muscles tensing in pleasure.

"Aw fuck...fuck, Jare."

He can only gasp and strain, large hand squeezing his cock, preventing an early end to Jared's torture. Jared's other hand pinches and plucks his chest, nipples beyond hard and aching.

Jensen'd never realized his throat was an erogenous zone before Jared exploited it; now knows he can render the older man senseless with a well-placed assault.

It's too much, can't stop moaning and bucking. Jared takes a deep breath against his neck, uses the miniscule respite to move one of his hands. Shoves his boyfriend away from his throat, pushing him down on the couch and straddling his thighs. Jensen wants his moment in this thing, locks their mouths together and tries to maintain a shred of control.

"Problem, Jensen?" Jared scratches out, barely audible when Jensen lets him breathe. He sounds smug, has definitely earned it, if Jensen's still-quaking muscles are an indication.

"Yeah," he whispers in Jared's ear, tongue flicking knowingly along the smooth flesh and cartilage. "Stop fucking around, start fucking me."

"Pushy fucker."

"Yeah, missed you too, Jare."

Jared yanks him away from his ear, licks into Jensen's mouth and reaches to the coffee table, retrieving the lube and condoms he must have set out earlier. Jensen quickly snatches them, covers and slicks Jared's dick before readying himself. He loves the look on Jared's face when he pushes his fingers inside himself, stretching just enough - doesn't want to wait any longer.

Their long separation disappears as Jensen sinks down on Jared's cock, burn intimate and comfortable.

"God, I'm glad you're back."

Jared laughs, a deep, warm sound, and pulls Jensen forward. The kiss is up-close and slow, contrasts with their earlier grappling. Jensen's watching Jared's hazel eyes, sees reactions there as he rides. It's as good as it's ever been; everything except Jared slipping out of Jensen's mind.

Needing more stimulation to fall over the edge, Jensen rocks himself harder, hand on his own dick, but Jared surges back into control. He flips them quickly and forcefully, smacking Jensen's hand away from his cock; Jared knows he can get off like this without it.

"Jen, fuck -" Jared groans, pushing into Jensen faster. "Missed this...unh, God."

Beyond that, Jensen can only hear his name, the new shortened version sounds desperate. Wonderful. It's enough, combined with Jared's perfect thrusts, to finish him. He comes over his stomach, both of them crying out. Jared's shaking, strong arms trembling, trying not to collapse on Jensen as he's falling apart.

Ten minutes later they're still on the couch, Jared only moving to ditch the condom. Jensen's sticky, flushed, and nearly smothered by Jared's larger frame but he hasn't felt this good in weeks. They haven't really talked - Jensen figures they're kind of beyond catching up, they've certainly called each other enough.

Eventually Jensen has to say something, eyes catching on the boxes and equipment by his television console.

"Hey, Jared?"

"Yeah?"

"What's that?"

Jared follows his line of sight and smiles. "It's my Playstation."

"Video games?" Jensen stretches to turn on the lamp. "You brought your video game thing on the plane?"

"No," his boyfriend looks entertained by the mystified expression Jensen knows he's wearing. "I packed it in the truck n' drove here."

"That's not a rental out there?" He could have sworn they talked about Jared flying, but that could have been over a week ago.

"Naw, that's my truck," Jared shifts, no longer cutting off the blood supply to Jensen's hand. "Figured it was worth driving here, bring some of my stuff."

"How much stuff?"

"Well, not tons," he looks a little thrown. "That all right?"

"Yeah, I just..." Jensen hadn't thought of it, sometimes the most sensible things slipping by at inopportune moments. He pauses, rethinks. "Just wondered if you needed help bringing it in."

"Jensen, you're naked," he laughs. "And it's broad daylight. 'Course I like seeing you naked, but your neighbors might not appreciate it."

"Smart ass."

"Hot ass," Jared smirks. "But nah, I got it all in already. There are a couple boxes in the bedroom. It's not a lot. Clothes, some books, video games - I wanted to be comfortable."

"It's fine," he assures, his chest feeling a little lighter. "Although, you might be comfortable on this couch, but shit, can we move now?"

Jared doesn't answer, just pulls him up, momentum bringing him into Jared's arms.

"Why'd you buy the couch if it's uncomfortable?"

"So I wouldn't fall asleep on it," he says like it makes perfect sense.

"Right, that's logical," Jared half-snorts.

Jensen ignores him. "Bedroom?"

"Sure, guess I wore you out, huh?"

"Hardly," Jensen grabs the younger man's arm, directing him towards the back of the house. "It's my turn now."

***

Jensen's on his way to the ballistics lab, possible murder weapon boxed in his hands. Turning the corner by the audio/visual room, he's met with a sight he absolutely should not be seeing: Jared's face on the lab's plasma screen.

Archie and Greg are staring at the wall, Archie manning his computer, flicking from photo to photo. Jensen recognizes some of them; movie screenshots, old public appearances, staged photoshoots. He can't really hear what his two techs are saying, figures they're oblivious to his presence.

Moving to the open door he taps on the glass, sees a familiar movie frame on the screen.

"That movie really sucked."

He tries not to laugh when the two men jump.

"Interesting case y'all are working on." Jensen's pretty good at looking serious, comes with the job.

Greg's stammering, Archie clicks off the page of photos.

"Oh hey, sorry Jensen," the media specialist tries to sound innocent. "Greg and I were just...taking a break?"

"Clearly."

Greg still appears terrified.

"Archie, shouldn't you be cleaning up the tapes from the convenience store?"

"Yeah, 'course. I'll get them to Sara within the hour." He turns back to his workstation, fingers moving rapidly and Jared's page is soon gone from the plasma.

"Greg," Jensen turns to his other tech. "Need something to do?"

"Well, not really," and now he sounds nervous too. "I mean, all the active cases don't have DNA, and I guess I could run some old unsolveds...and Nick asked if I could help him log evidence from those three cars he's processing, so maybe I'll just-"

"Greg." Jensen waits for the rambling to stop. "Go."

"Right, sorry."

He watches Greg book it out of the lab and head for the garage, undoubtedly to tell Nick and Warrick what he and Archie were discovering. The fact that his relationship with an actor is about to become lab gossip doesn't freak Jensen out as much as it once would have. At least he's not really being forced to talk about it.

"Hey, Jensen?"

Archie's voice interrupts his thoughts.

"Wicked sorry about that," he hears as he turns back to the tech. "Catherine and I saw him walk through here the other night with you, and she recognized him from some show. We were just curious..."

"Just no more surfing unless it's case related, got it?"

"Sure thing," Archie nods, goes back to his tapes.

Jensen grabs his evidence box as he walks out, remembers he's due in ballistics.

Firing guns always makes him feel better.

***


Continued in Part Two.