Title: Painless
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Continuation of "I Want You."
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 scowled as he headed for the front door of the crime lab; somehow, the news of his stalker had spread like wildfire, until everyone was asking him if he was all right and if he wanted their company until the person had been caught. It was already getting on his nerves.

All he wanted to do was to go home and forget any of this was happening. He had talked to Jim Brass, and arranged for a protective detail to swing by his apartment complex every half-hour or so -- though he didn't see how much good that was going to do.

If they didn't come inside, which they weren't going to do, how were they going to know if he was all right? All they could do was look around outside, and if they thought anything looked suspicious, they could knock on his front door. That was all the protection they could give.

It seemed ridiculous, anyway. He had calmed down now; he was even starting to feel that the rose and the disembodied voice over the phone hadn't been all that scary, and that his mind had just blown them up to be something much more threatening than they actually were.

Greg pushed open the front door, stepping out into the cool morning air. It was a grey, foggy morning, with no sun shining through the clouds. If it rained today, that would suit his mood, he thought, pulling out his keys as he walked over to his car.

It took him a moment to realize that the door was open; he definitely hadn't left it like that when he'd come back to the lab after his second case of the night. He had made sure to lock it, as he always did; yet there was no sign that anyone had tampered with the locks in any way.

His heart skipped a beat or two as he slid into the driver's seat and saw a small, neatly wrapped package on the passenger side. Greg didn't want to touch it; he had no idea what it could be, and for a moment, he had a sudden urge to call Brass and tell him to send a bomb squad.

But no, it was too small to be a bomb -- at least, as far as he knew. At the same moment that he reached tentatively for the package, his cell phone rang; even before he answered it, Greg knew what the voice on the other end of the line would sound like.

"I see you haven't opened your gift yet, Greg," the voice intoned, sounding almost friendly. "Go on, open it. It's something that I think you might enjoy. If you don't already have a copy, that is. I wouldn't be surprised if someone like you hasn't already tried all of it."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Greg asked, reaching for the package in spite of himself. It was obviously a book; he could tell by the way it felt in his hand. "'Someone like me'? What's that supposed to imply?" He wanted to focus on his anger; it would keep him from feeling terrified.

"You should know what I mean, Greg." The voice was slightly admonishing in its tone, making Greg shiver. He wondered just how long this person had been following him, observing him, when he hadn't had the slightest idea that he was being watched.

"I don't." In spite of himself, he was pulling at the wrapping around the book, tearing it off until the cover was revealed. Greg's eyes widened, and he dropped the small book onto the passenger seat as though it had burned him. He didn't want to touch it.

It was a book that he already had, in the full-sized hardcover edition. The Gay Kama Sutra. Whoever it was that taunted him on the other end of the phone line, they were making a comment about his sexual preferences by sending him a copy of this.

"I'm sure you already have a larger copy of the book, Greg," the voice continued, the tone sounding softer -- and noticeably seductive. "Have you tried all of the positions in it yet? Or do I get to introduce you to some of them when you're underneath me?"

"That's not going to happen," Greg answered, trying to keep his voice crisp and calm, businesslike. "I'm not going to sleep with you, and you're not going to get close enough to me to force me into doing it. Is rape what you're after? Because you won't get what you want."

"You may not come to me willingly -- but I wouldn't call it rape," the voice contradicted him, sounding a little sharper now. "You have a dark side to you, Greg -- a side that's willing to take risks and walk on the wild side. If you don't think so, then you don't know yourself very well."

"I might have a dark side, but it's reserved for the people I choose to be with," Greg said, putting an emphasis on the word. "I don't choose to be with you. If you want me that badly, then you're doomed to disappointment. You're not going to get me."

"That's what you think, Greg," the voice murmured, sinking to a low, almost purring tone. "You should give me a chance. Who knows, you might enjoy it. I think you will. I'll make it painless -- even pleasurable. I can promise you that. I wouldn't want to be left with bad memories."

"Bad memories of what?" The question popped out before Greg could stop himself from asking it; his thin body tensed, his hands noticeably trembling as he waited for an answer that he wasn't sure he really wanted to hear. He was sure that he wasn't going to like it.

"Your ultimate death, of course," the voice told him, sounding surprised. "I can promise you that our final encounter will be the best I'll ever have. And I can make it almost painless for you -- except for your last few moments. That won't be pleasant for you."

Greg fought the urge to click his phone off and throw it out of the window; if this person was watching him as they were talking, that wasn't a reaction he wanted them to witness. "You're not going to kill me, and you're not going to have sex with me, either" he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"We'll have to wait and see about that," the voice whispered, sending another chill down Greg's spine. "I'll have you, Greg. You may think that you can stop me, but you can't. You'll be mine, when and where I want you. Your friends should start saying goodbye to you soon."

Suddenly, the voice on the other end disappeared; the line was dead. Greg slowly put the phone down, letting the trembling overtake him. He sat there and stared at the small book, remembering every word that had been said to him in that husky, deep voice.

Whoever this person was, they had somehow focused on him and decided that they wanted him. Not just in a sexual way -- they wanted him dead. It was scary enough to be the target of someone's sexual obsession, but this was something he couldn't deal with alone.

He had to let Brass hear what had been said to him during that phone call, no matter how embarrassing it was. He had no doubt that the police chief would let his colleagues at the crime lab hear it, but he couldn't let himself worry about that now.

This was spiraling out of control; he couldn't shrug it off any longer. This person apparently had some kind of obsession with him; he wasn't safe any more. He almost didn't want to go home; if he did, he was sure that another package might be waiting for him there.

This man could even be waiting for him there -- and regardless of what he'd been told, Greg didn't believe that if he happened to fall into his stalker's clutches, anything that happened to him would be painless. He was sure that the objective was to cause him as much pain as possible.

And the ultimate objective was his death. Greg squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the panic that tried to crowd into his mind. He was still here at the crime lab; he didn't have to go home and put himself in more danger. He could call Brass, then go to a hotel.

He would have to stop by his apartment to get some clothes and a few personal items, but he didn't feel safe staying at home any more. Until this guy was caught, he would be an exile from his own home. Greg could feel anger rising within him at the thought.

When they caught this guy, he was going to make sure that his stalker was put behind bars for a long, long time, Greg vowed to himself as he slowly dialed Brass' number. And he was going to make sure that his capture and incarceration were anything but painless.

***

Next story in series - Kiss Yourself Goodbye.