Title: Kiss Yourself Goodbye
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Continuation of Painless.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders, unfortunately, just borrowing him for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Greg looked around him as he stepped from the crime lab's front door out into the parking lot; he didn't see anything amiss, but that didn't mean that he wasn't being watched. The thought made him more nervous than he wanted to admit.

It was scary to know that he was being stalked. And even though Brass -- as well as the rest of the CSI team -- had promised to look out for him, he still felt vulnerable and alone. It was terrifying not to know who was watching him, or why they were doing so.

What could this man want with him? Greg asked himself as he crossed the parking lot to his car. And how were they getting into his car so easily? He always left it locked; they shouldn't be able to have access to his personal space in the way that they seemed to.

What would he do if he found them in his home at some point? The question chilled his blood; he didn't want to think about that. If he went home and confronted this person in his apartment, he woudl probably be dead before he could so much as scream for help.

Greg shuddered at the thought, peering through the window of his car before he pulled out his keys. There didn't seem to be any unwanted gifts on the front seat today; he just hoped that no one had been near his car while he'd been at work all night.

How many times had he worked crime scenes where someone had been blown up by a car bomb? He almost hesitated before he swung the door open and got in; he didn't want to be one of those casualties, just one of a long list of people to be killed in that way.

Cautiously, he put the key into the ignition, turning it and hearing the engine come to life. He breathed a sigh of relief; this apparently wasn't his time to die in a fiery explosion. And if he was lucky, his stalker would be caught and put behind bars long before that could happen.

It only took him a few minutes to pull out of the parking lot and onto the highway, the tension of a long day at work draining away from him as he did so. All he wanted to do right now was go home and get some sleep, and hopefully put his stalker out of his thoughts for a while.

Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot at his apartment complex, turning the engine off and closing his eyes as he rested his head against the back of the seat. He'd made it through another day, and there hadn't been any sign of his stalker.

Just as the though crystallized in his mind, his cell phone rang. Greg reached for the door handle, his movement frozen at the sound; he didn't want to answer the phone, but he knew that he had to, just in case it was Jim Brass or someone from work.

The caller was unknown; Greg could feel the muscles in his stomach tense, sure of what he would hear when he clicked the phone on. That whispery, raspy voice that had haunted his dreams for the past three nights, that voice he couldn't put out of his mind.

Archie had tried to run a trace on the voice, but it had been impossible. Nobody had any clue as to who this person could be, or why he would be stalking Greg. And no one had any idea where he was hiding, or what he might try to do next.

The last thing he wanted to do was hear that voice again, that voice that had been haunting his dreams and making him wake up in a cold sweat, that voice that had told him so matter-of-factly that his death wouldn't be painless. He didn't want to hear those words again.

But he had no choice, not really. If he didn't answer the phone, his stalker would only call again and again until he did. He already knew that this man wasn't going to simply fade away, or let him out of his sights until he had what he wanted -- or until he was stopped.

Slowly, he clicked the phone on and raised it to his ear. "Hello?" he said, keeping his voice soft, hoping that he sounded a lot more nonchalant than he felt. He didn't want to betray his nervousness -- or any kind of fear -- by having his voice tremble when he spoke.

"Hello, Greg. Have you thought about what I said the last time we talked?" The voice was just as gravelly and whispery as it had been the first time he'd heard it; there was nothing familiar about it, nothing that made him feel any spark of recognition.

"No, I haven't thought about anything you've said. I've just thought about how to catch you and put you in jail where you belong," Greg answered before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. The voice on the other end chuckled, sounding amused.

"Do you really think it's going to be that easy to catch me, Greg?" he queried, sounding more whispery and elusive than ever. "I've been watching you for longer than you think. I've seen your early attempts to become what you are. You're very impressive, you know."

"You've seen .... what?" Greg felt like he was a novice swimmer who had suddenly floundered into waters that were too wide and too deep; he had no idea what he was supposed to say. The knowledge that this man had probably been watching him for years had startled him.

"I've seen you grow from a green CSI into someone who knows what he's doing," the voice whispered, making a tremor run through Greg's body. "I've been watching you for a long time, Greg. And it's time you got to know me on a .... personal level."

"That's not going to happen," Greg answered, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "You know, stalking's illegal. What you're doing is eventually going to get you caught and put you behind bars. You should turn yourself in and stop this."

"I think we both know that isn't going to happen," the voice said, the amused tone still there. "Yes, this may be illegal, but I'm not going to stop. Not until I have what I want. And I want you, Greg. I've always wanted you."

"Well, you can't have me," Greg said, keeping his voice smooth and impersonal. That was it, he thought to himself, keep this guy talking. Archie had a trace on his phone; he would be tracking down this guy at this very moment, Greg was sure of it.

"I always get what I want, Greg." The amusement was gone now; the voice was as hard as granite, the sound of it almost like nails on a chalkboard. "You should prepare to kiss yourself goodbye very soon. Because once I have you, I'll be the one calling the shots."

Before Greg could say anything else, the phone went dead. He sat there staring at it for a moment, before dialing Archie to find out if they had managed to trace the genesis of the call, and if they had a name to put to the voice that haunted his dreams.

It only took a few moments to discover that the call hadn't lasted long enough for a trace; and even if it had, Archie was fairly sure that the signal was being bounced off more than one tower, keeping them from getting an accurate idea of where the call originated from.

Sighing, Greg tucked the phone back into his pocket, getting out of his car slowly and locking it. He had to call Brass and let him know that his stalker had called him again, but a part of him didn't want to. Brass would probably insist on a protective detail.

It would be the best route to go to ensure his safety, Greg thought as he fit the key into the lock. But he didn't want to do that, not unless he absolutely had to. He didn't want to disrupt the routine of his life, not unless he felt so threatened that he didn't have a choice.

He looked around his living room as he went into his apartment, relieved to see that nothing was missing or misplaced. Turning back to the door, he turned off the alarm, feeling thankful that he'd had it put in a couple of years ago. It made him feel a lot safer.

He had no intention of kissing himself goodbye just yet -- or ever, he thought as he headed down the hall towards his bedroom. At the moment, he just hoped that he would be able to sleep today, and that for once, that voice wouldn't haunt his dreams and keep him from getting any rest.

***

Next story in series - Obsession.