Disclaimers: Not mine, etc.
Spoilers: None, except I completely ignored Fever and any other episode after it that involved Helen Bryce. Actually, I'm ignoring pretty much the second half of the second season. Rating: R
Archive: The Hardy Boys Challenge Page, SSA, and my library Author's Notes: Whatever is going to happen/has happened to Helen is ignored. The only thing is that Helen and Lex date for a very long time.

Thank you to: Dana, Moss, and philtre.

Grissom glanced around one of the Bellagio's best suites, taking in everything: police officers keeping curious cats at bay, coroner's people waiting for him and his CSIs, and lastly, Lieutenant Brass at the windows with a bald man. Said bald man was agitated, but in a coldly controlled way. Arms crossed, eyes directed out at the Las Vegas skyline, he was the epitome of conscientious cooperation. Except for his tight eyes and mouth.

Interesting.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I do not know who she is."

"You wake up to find a dead woman in your room, and you have no idea who she is?" Brass scoffed.

The other man stared at the officer, clearly thinking hard thoughts at the man, but gamely shook his head. Grissom noted that the man, who he originally thought was older because of his lack of hair, proved to be quite young. Mid-twenties, at his best guess. He nodded to Catherine and Nick to start processing the scene.

"Alexander Luthor, meet Gil Grissom, Las Vegas Crime lab."

Grissom nodded a greeting, silently apologizing for not taking the offered hand by showing his own gloved one. The other man smiled in amused understanding. "Mr. Luthor, could you go over what you told the lieutenant?"

Luthor sighed, but nodded. "I woke up, went through my morning routine, came out here and found her. I immediately called the police."

"And that's it? You didn't touch anything?"

He started to shake his head, then stopped. "I touched her."

Grissom raised a brow.

"I was checking for a pulse," he explained.

The head CSI nodded, adding his thanks before turning to the scene. Keeping one ear open all the while, he knelt next to Catherine. "Got anything?"

"The ME says the time of death was around two AM," she informed him, then held up several long strands of dark hair. "It's obviously not his," she murmured, a quick grin fighting its way to her lips. "Found it twined around her fingers."

He smirked back at her, turning to the victim. Long brown hair fanned out in a halo around her head. "It could be hers."

Cath nodded, placing the strands into an evidence bag.

Nick glanced up from the bed as the door swung open.

"Are you done?" The words were cold and clipped as they fell from the room's occupant and number one suspect's mouth.

The CSI mutely nodded, then stared with wide eyes as the younger man held open the door in a blatant dismissal. About to let loose a pithy response to Luthor's demand, his eyes caught Cath's urgent beckoning and, gathering his things, Nick quickly left. The door closed behind him with a solid thud. He blinked at Catherine. "What ticked him off?"

"His father."

"His father?"

"Yup. Apparently they're both in town on business. The elder Mr. Luthor is staying at the Las Vegas Hilton."

He frowned. "Well, that's weird."

Cath nodded. "You should have heard the fight."

"Yeah, I caught some of it --" His words died off as incredibly loud music blasted out from behind him. The door and walls barely muffled the heavy sounds.

"Why that little --"

Nick watched as Brass pounded on the door, yelling at the man inside to turn it down. His attempts were ignored. The young CSI turned at the tap on his shoulder. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Officer Stokes," Luthor's tall, chocolate-skinned bodyguard stepped closer, "if you'd like for Mr. Luthor to continue to cooperate, I would suggest allowing Clark Kent in." She turned, staring pointedly at the door.

Nick glanced around the woman to the young man hovering at the door. At his shoulder was the blonde Amazon he recognized as Luthor's other bodyguard, the one who had abruptly left after the CSI team had arrived. His eyes sought out Grissom's before nodding permission.

The dark-haired guy flashed him a grateful smile before striding to the bedroom door. Nick watched Brass jump at the hand landing on his shoulder.

"May I try, sir?"

Brass stared at the new addition warily before nodding.

"Lex! It's me! Open up!" The young man turned back to them. "Lionel was here, wasn't he?"

"If you mean Lionel Luthor," Brass confirmed, "then yeah."

"Figures." He grinned, turning back to the door. "Lex! C'mon! It's Clark! Open up!"

The door jerked opened under his pounding fist.

"Clark?" Luthor's face had completely transformed. No more tight lines, no more frigid mask. His smile, while confused, was real and welcoming. "What are you doing here?"

"Constance called; Faith flew me over, and Mercy picked me up."

Luthor shook his head. "It's not that bad, Clark. They shouldn't have bothered you."

"Lex? A) it's never a bother, and B) you have half of Las Vegas' law enforcement in your hotel room. It is that bad."

Luthor rolled his eyes, but grinned. "You hungry?"

"Always," the younger man grinned, bouncing.

"If you need me," Luthor turned to Brass, "I'll be downstairs."

They watched as their prime murder suspect waltzed off as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Well, except for feeding that very pretty boy.

"You okay?"

He leaned back in his chair, long fingers fiddling with the heavy silver fork. "I'm fine."

"Lex." Clark's expression said it all.

"I'm not worried. They won't find anything that links me to her."

Clark kept studying him.

Lex finally smiled a little sadly, shrugged and pretended that Clark's fingertips gently tracing over the back of his hand weren't sending warmth and tingles through his entire body. Flipping his hand over, he caught the long, bronzed fingers in his own.

"Mr. Luthor?"

He glanced up at the brunette. "Yes, Connie?"

"The police are done with your room."

He winced. "Connie --"

"Already done, sir. I've booked you and Clark at the Venetian."

He smiled in thanks. "And what about Hope, Mercy and yourself? And Faith? Is she still here?"

"Faith's returned home, sir. As for the three of us, we'll be sharing the suite next to yours. And, everything's already packed." The tall woman smiled as her boss grinned in relief. She stepped back as he stood, tilting her head when he leaned forward so he could buss her cheek.

"Remind me to give you a raise, my dear."

She snorted. "At this rate, I'll own LexCorp."

Clark smirked.

Grissom glanced over the silver slab at Dr. Robbins. "Respiratory arrest?"

"On the nose," the coroner agreed, handing the other man a small plastic bag. "The light degree of cyanosis suggests that she died quickly. I also found these in her nose, mouth, and lungs."

He stared at the cloth fibers. "They look like they could match the pillow found next to the body."

"So you're thinking that Luthor smothered her with the pillow?" Nick studied the fibers handed to him.

Robbins nodded. "It also looks like she had intercourse before she died."

"Oh?" Gris leaned forward, studying the body.

"Yeah, but no fluids, though. He must have worn a condom."

"Nick, didn't Brass say Ms. Hatch had a penchant for erotic asphyxiation?"

He nodded. "Luthor's in town, he's bored, picks up some 'entertainment' for the night. They start gettin' it on, he smothers her with the pillow to enhance their pleasure, but it goes too far and she dies."

"Good theory," Grissom murmured, "but why call the police? Mr. Luthor doesn't strike me as a stupid man."

"Maybe he thought the cops couldn't touch him." He shrugged. "You know, rich, powerful. He probably thought he could get away with it."

Grissom made an noncommittal sound before turning to Dr. Robbins. "Thanks, doc."

"We need to talk to Luthor again." Nick glanced over at the officers joining him.

Brass' eyebrow rose. "Why?"

"Griss thinks that if we can find fibers on any of Luthor's clothing that matches the ones found on the DB, we could link him to the crime."

"Well," Brass reached for his notebook, "Mr. Luthor and Mr. Kent aren't at the Bellagio any more. They've checked in at the Venetian."

Nick smirked.

Brass' eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Nothing." The CSI just kept walking. "Cath's waiting for us at the cars."

"It's not like I have anything against it."

Nick grinned. "I didn't say anything, Lieutenant. Besides, what if Luthor's got a girlfriend?"

The detective grunted. "That just means he plays both sides of the field. And your silence speaks volumes, Stokes." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't think they're lovers . . . yet."

"Yet?"

"Yeah. Something about them tells my cop instincts that they haven't done the deed yet. But it's only a matter of time. I'd bet on it."

The younger man grinned. "Really? How much?"

"Ah, Nick, don't go wasting money you can't afford to lose."

He scoffed. "That sure, are you?"

"Did you see those looks?"

Nick laughed.

Catherine tried to keep a neutral expression as she held up the warrant. "Mr. Luthor, we need to examine your clothing."

The young man sighed, but opened the door in silent invitation.

Her first glimpse of his new hotel room surprised the CSI. While still luxurious beyond comprehension, the coffee table before the giant television was littered with books, papers and pencils. The bar was also littered with junk food and soft drinks. Luthor's first hotel room was sterile in comparison. This place looked like a very expensive dorm room.

It made her grin.

"Pardon the mess," Luthor murmured, hands unconsciously straightening things here and there. "Clark's in the middle of studying." He led them to his bedroom, waving a hand towards his half-unpacked luggage.

She smiled again. "We'll work as fast as we can, then."

He nodded his thanks. Through the opened door, they watched as Luthor seated himself at the bar, then surprised both her and Nick by munching on cheese puffs.

"Mr. Luthor?"

"Yes?"

She leaned on the door jam. "May I ask where Mr. Kent is?"

He seemed reluctant to answer, but pointed at the other bedroom of the suite. "He's on the phone with his parents."

"Thanks, I was just wondering."

He nodded, and looked as if he wanted to say something, but the door burst open.

Catherine watched as a beautiful woman came flying into the room.

"Oh, Lex! I came as soon as I heard!"

Luthor caught her gently, hugging her. "You didn't have to come, Helen."

"Of course I did! I couldn't let you go through this alone." She held on tightly, comfort and support pouring off of her in waves.

Catherine noticed that Mr. Luthor merely draped his arm around her, never holding onto her as tightly as she held onto him.

"Thank you, Helen," he murmured. "But I'm not alone."

She pulled back, rolling her eyes. "Neither your father, nor your staff counts, my love."

He grinned. "Actually, Clark's here."

The woman named Helen pulled back. "Oh." When she glanced around seeing the very visible proof that the young man was indeed here , Catherine could see the glint in her eyes. It unsettled the seasoned CSI. "Really? Where is he? I'd like to thank him for being here for you."

As if being summoned, Clark made his appearance. He flashed that blinding smile again, at everyone in the room, seemingly unsurprised by the small invasion of the hotel room. "Helen, hi!" He turned, craning his neck. "Ms. Willows, Mr. Stokes. Officers. Detective."

Catherine nodded a hello; behind her, Nick grunted with distraction. The officers and Brass nodded.

"Clark," the woman greeted quietly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Catherine watched as Clark plopped back down on the floor and reached for his pencil. Seconds later, she heard the scratching as he returned to his homework. Letting Nick continue the examination of Luthor's things, she covertly observed the three other people in the room. Lex Luthor and his girlfriend were at the windows, staring at the Vegas strip and quietly talking. Clark Kent concentrated on his homework. Which wasn't going too well, judging from the frustrated frown.

Signaling Nick, she wandered over to the young man and peeked at his homework over his shoulder. "Having trouble?"

Clark looked up, grinning ruefully. "I'm trying to understand why a Journalism major has to take Chemistry."

She laughed, settling down behind him on the couch. "Maybe I can help?"

"That won't be necessary, Ms. Willows, but thank you. I'm sure you'd rather concentrate on your job."

Catherine stared in surprise as Luthor verbally dismissed her. "Mr. Luthor --"

"Lex, apologize," Clark quietly murmured.

Again, she was surprised when, after a long moment of silent communication, Luthor sheepishly smiled at her. "My apologies, Ms. Willows, I was out of line. It's been a very long day."

Catherine could only nod, then watch as Luthor sat down on the sofa, leaning over Clark. She continued to stare as Luthor's right hand unconsciously slipped into the younger man's hair as he murmured to him. On his part, Clark leaned into Luthor, using his leg as a pillow as he continued to frown at his homework. He then, out of the blue, handed his friend the pencil. Luthor immediately began to write. Moments later, Clark grinned, reclaimed his pencil and began to furiously scribble.

As she finally lifted her eyes from the two young men, Catherine froze at the sight of Mr. Luthor's girlfriend glaring at the two men. Edging away from them both and towards Nick, Catherine knew something was going on between the three of them.

He eased away from her, moving to lay on the side of the bed. There was just enough light coming from under the door for him to make out the objects in the room. Moving slowly, he left the bed, heading for Clark.

"Lex!" The soft exclamation conveyed surprise and pleasure.

"Hey."

"Did I wake you?"

"No." Slipping down onto the sofa's empty corner, Lex relaxed, letting go of a sigh. Glancing over, he shared a soft smile with his best friend, watching as Clark crawled towards him, laying his head in Lex's lap. He loved the feel of silky black strands between his finger - almost as much as he loved the soft content murmuring his petting produced.

Within minutes, they were both asleep.

She bit her lip, watching as they assumed what she privately called the "awww, how sweet" pose. The pose, Lex had told her, had begun spontaneously during their Friday movie nights. Turning back to the empty bed, she wished it would just end.

"So what do you think?"

"About Luthor?" Catherine asked, setting out their collected samples. Grissom nodded.

"I think there's something going on between him and the kid," Nick announced.

Cath grinned mischievously. "Me, too."

Their boss blinked. "But didn't you tell me his girlfriend flew into Vegas?"

"Yup," the young CSI grinned, waggling his brows.

Catherine rolled her eyes and shook her head, but the grin gave her away.

"Interesting," he murmured.

Moments later, Catherine lifted her head at Nick's satisfied grunt. "Got something?"

"Yeah, fibers on one of Luthor's jackets."

She blinked, joining him at the lab bench. "You're kidding."

His eyebrow arched. "You think he's innocent?"

"I think he's too smart to leave something as obvious as that behind."

"True. But even the best make mistakes."

"I guess," she murmured reluctantly.

He grinned as Clark bounded out of his room, pausing mid-stretch to yawn a 'good morning.'

Lex chuckled. "Good morning to you, too."

Drawn to Lex's side, Clark grinned at the pancakes smothered with fruit and whipped cream. "Mmmmmm, my favorite. Thanks."

He waited as Clark grabbed his plate, then followed him to the breakfast nook, settling down to their respective sections of the newspaper. Front page and sports for Clark, comics and business sections for Lex. It worked out well for them.

"You weren't very nice to them, Lex."

He was startled when Clark spoke, but rolled his eyes, still hiding behind his trusty newspaper.

"Lex."

"I apologized."

"That doesn't explain nor excuse."

"What are you, Clark? My nanny?"

"Well, someone has to remind you of your manners."

Lex snorted, reaching for his coffee cup.

"Put that damn paper down, young man."

He silently chuckled, slowly lowering the paper just enough to peek over the top.

Clark was leaning back, arms crossed, stern expression on his face.

Lex smiled impishly.

Clark glared.

Lex blew a raspberry.

Clark rolled his eyes and threw a real berry at him.

"Good morning!"

Lex lowered the paper. "Good morning, Helen." He casually accepted her usual morning kiss, smoothly returning to the paper afterward as she prepared her own breakfast.

"Lex?"

"Yes?"

"Did you order cream?"

He winced. "Sorry."

She smiled tightly. "That's okay." Putting down her cup, she reached for the phone.

"Mr. Luthor, I'm placing you under arrest."

"What?" Luthor froze, barely noticing the shocked gasps of the other restaurant patrons.

Catherine winced at the blatant shock on the young man's face as he was cuffed and Mirandized by Brass only a day after Nina Hatch's body had been discovered. Clark Kent's face was completely drained of blood, but he was strangely calm as he pulled Luthor's nearly hysterical girlfriend away from the murder suspect.

"Clark --"

Kent stepped forward, holding Luthor's gaze. "What do you need, Lex?"

"Just my lawyers." His voice was oddly resigned, defeated. Tired.

"Look at me," Clark ordered softly. "Lex."

Blue eyes slowly focused on his friend's face, going fuzzy again when Clark cupped his jaw.

"Everything's going to be fine, okay?"

Luthor nodded, more hope in his posture. Obviously, Clark held some serious sway when it came to Luthor's moods. Catherine ignored the vicious whispering as she followed Brass and his men out the door. Behind her, she could hear Clark on the phone.

For some odd reason, she hoped Mr. Luthor had some really good lawyers.

"Here they come," Brass muttered.

Turning, the three CSIs watched as several well dressed persons approached. They were obviously Luthor's lawyers.

Brass plastered on a smile. "This way, gentlemen, ma'am."

"I'm Gordon White," the eldest man said, then turned to introduce his colleagues. "These are Martin Abernathy and Kim Sussun." The younger man and woman nodded.

Returning their greetings and introducing themselves as well, the CSIs followed the lawyers and Brass to the interrogation room. Just as they passed the window, all three lawyers stopped.

"Is there a problem?" Brass asked softly as he exchanged confused glances with Grissom.

"He's pacing," Mr. White muttered.

"That's not a good sign," Abernathy agreed.

The Asian woman turned. "Was his father here?"

Brass nodded.

"Oh, that is not good," she muttered to the others.

White swiveled. "Clark Kent wouldn't happen to be around somewhere, would he?"

"Clark?" Catherine blinked. "Yes, I think so."

"Could you find him, please?" White, as well as the others, looked extremely relieved.

A nod from Grissom sent Nick off to hunt. "Excuse me? But why do you need Mr. Kent?"

White shook his head. "Because Lex is agitated. When he's that agitated you're not going to want to talk to him. Clark is the only one who can calm him down."

Brass snorted. "He's under arrest for murder. I don't think it matters if he's calm or not."

"I'm sorry, detective, but you don't know Mr. Luthor," Abernathy interjected. "If you go in there and ask him questions while he's that angry, by the time he's through, you're going to arrest your grandmother for the crime instead of him."

"It doesn't matter," Brass snorted. "Kent can't go in there anyway."

White cocked an eyebrow. It definitely said, "We'll see about that."

Grissom leaned back, blinking. Turning to look at his fellow law officers, he also saw their frustrated expressions. The lawyers were right, Luthor was being . . . difficult. He had taken the Fifth Amendment to heart . . . he was completely, absolutely, perfectly silent. The man who had willingly answered their questions and let them search through his belongings had completely disappeared, leaving a cold, alabaster statue.

Brass sighed.

Grissom caught his eye and nodded.

Brass rolled his eyes, but nodded at the lawyers. "Fine, bring him in."

Luthor never moved except for his eyes, which followed his younger lawyer as he left the room. "Clark?"

The young man grinned from the doorway, taking the seat vacated by Ms. Sussun. "Hey, how's it going?"

Luthor smiled grimly. "It's not."

Clark rolled his eyes. "You're not saying anything, aren't you?"

Luthor grinned like the shark he was again. But the smile faded. "What are you doing here, Clark? I don't want you involved."

"Too late for that, Lex." Everyone watched with avid curiosity as Clark leaned forward, whispering in Luthor's ear.

Luthor leaned back, blinking.

"Please, Lex."

Luthor nodded. "How can I help you, ladies and gentlemen?"

"Tell us about the woman," Brass started off.

"There isn't much to tell," Luthor shrugged, "I've never seen her in my entire life."

"So you didn't pick her up to relieve the stress of all those business meetings?"

Clark chuckled softly after he and Luthor shared an amused glance.

"Something funny, Mr. Luthor?"

"Detective Brass, if I need to relieve stress I call for Hope and Mercy." Luthor smirked. "And before you think it, it's not what you think. I fence and box. So do Hope and Mercy. If I wanted to work off frustrations, I get beat by those two with either foil or fists. I don't need to fuck to relieve tension, sir."

Grissom watched as Clark merely shook his head and smirked. A quick glance at Brass indicated that he wanted to ask a few questions. At Brass' nod, he leaned forward. "Mr. Luthor, let's say for the sake of argument that you didn't kill Ms. Hatch."

Luthor nodded and Kent's eyes immediately focused on him.

"If you didn't kill her, someone else did, correct? How would someone get into your room and kill a woman, all without you hearing a thing?"

"Easy, Mr. Grissom, drugs."

"Drugs?" He stared is disbelief that someone admit to taking narcotics in front of law enforcement officers. Either Luthor was cocky as hell or -- "Legal sedatives, Mr. Luthor?"

"On the nose, sir." Luthor smiled and a wave of his hand brought forth his youngest lawyer. Abernathy quickly handed his client a bottle of pills, which Luthor easily handed over to Catherine. "I've been having trouble sleeping because of my travels. Going from Japan to England to Las Vegas in a week's time has raised hell with my sleeping patterns and so my doctor prescribed me these." Reaching over, Luthor caught Clark's wrist, tugging at the sleeve. "If my calculations are correct, my blood would still show traces of it from that night."

"Then you would be willing to submit to a drug test?" Catherine quickly asked.

Luthor just smirked, rolling up his sleeve.

"Well?"

"The test confirms it," Catherine answered, throwing herself into the chair before Grissom's desk. "The analysis shows that the amounts of Restoril in his blood would have kept an elephant knocked out for eight hours straight." Her lips quirked as she glanced at her boss and Nick, who was leaning against the desk. "Which makes sense. Hotel security shows him keying into his room at nine, about an hour to get ready for bed puts him asleep by ten."

"Wakes up at about six," Nick said, picked up the timeline, "takes about an hour to really wake up from that stuff because of its hangover-like effects and to get ready for his day. That puts us at about seven AM."

"And since the day shift doesn't start until nine," Grissom pointed out, "we caught the case."

"Well, hell! That means we're back to square one!" Nick muttered.

Grisson chewed on his glasses' earpiece a bit longer before nodding.

Juggling his dinner, Clark reached for his card key, cursing when super speed didn't catch everything. He grinned, licking the sweet dessert confection from his fingers.

"Leave me alone!"

"Just give me more money, doc, and I'll disappear."

Helen? Leaving the paper bag in front of the door, he quickly jogged down the hall. Super speeding down to the ground level after a quick scan showed Helen and a huge thug-like man heading for the garage.

"I already paid you." She threw off the hand grabbing her arm.

"Yeah, now I want more."

"No."

He peeked around the pillar at Helen as she tried to shove the man away.

"Look, if you don't give me more money, I'm gonna tell the cops about you shootin' up that bitch and dumpin' her in that room."

His eyes narrowed. It couldn't be. Why would she?

Helen glared at the man, daring him to call her bluff.

He roughly grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her off balance.

Clark stepped forward.

She decked her attacker, ripping her blouse in the process.

He growled, charging.

"Freeze! Security!" Sirens echoed as hotel security swarmed the fighting duo, cuffing the thug.

"Ma'am, are you all right?"

Helen's eyes swelled with fake tears. "He . . . he tried to attack me."

"You lyin' bitch! She killed that bitch and--"

The guard cuffing him clamped a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry about that, ma'am," the other guard soothed as Helen huddled into his chest, sobbing out her story.

Clark watched with disgust before turning away.

The CSIs turned at the tentative knock.

"Mr. Kent?" Grissom blinked, moving forward. "You're not suppose to be back here." He studied the young man, the obvious signs of stress that usually indicated someone who was going to "do the right thing." Snapping off his gloves and throwing an encompassing look at Catherine, before nodding at Nick to continue, he gently shepherded the Kansas farmboy into an interview room and away from the labs. "What can I do for you, Mr. Kent?"

Clark sat heavily, hands twisting together.

"Is this about Lex?" Catherine murmured gently as she placed a cup of water down and a hand on his shoulder.

Black hair flopped as he nodded.

They stayed silent, waiting.

"Did you find any kind of poison in her system?"

The two investigators exchanged glances.

"There wasn't any indication of a poisoning. The ME says the cause of death is respiratory arrest," Catherine explained.

"Could you check anyway?" Tight mouth, twisted hands, and sorrowful eyes spoke volumes.

"May I ask why, Mr. Kent?"

"Mr. Kent's my dad, Mr. Grissom. I'm Clark."

Griss' lips twitched. "May I ask why, Clark?"

He took a deep breath, fortifying himself. "A few hours ago, a man was arrested for attacking Dr. Bryce in the Venetian's parking garage."

Catherine's lips curved at the dramatic pause. "You really are going to be a journalist, aren't you?"

His lips twitched as well. "I followed them down there and overheard them fighting. He wanted more money for moving a body."

They gaped at him.

"You have got to be kidding," she exclaimed, turning to stare at her partner.

Grissom returned her incredulous stare with one of his own. This was much too easy. "Are you sure?" He leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

"I know this sounds like a setup, I don't blame you. But I swear, I heard him say that if she didn't give him more money, he was going to the police. His exact words were, 'I'm gonna tell the cops about you shootin' up that bitch and dumpin' her in that room.'" He stared at them and Grissom had the uncomfortable feeling that this kid couldn't lie worth a damn.

"He didn't say what the substance was?" he asked.

"No, security came before he could say any more."

"Catherine --"

"I'm on it." She quickly left.

"Thank you, sir."

He nodded, but frowned. "Clark, why would Dr. Bryce frame her fianc for murder?"

Clark snorted, rolling his eyes. "Because she's sexually attracted to him."

"Excuse me?" He was extraordinarily glad he wasn't drinking anything at the time.

Full lips twitched. "Since I've known Lex, every woman who was sexually attracted to him, somehow got him in trouble." He held up his hand, ticking them off on his fingers. "Victoria Hardwick tried to backstab Lex in a business deal. Amy Palmer's brother attacked him because Lex didn't return her feelings. And Desiree Atkins tried to do the Black Widow thing back when he was twenty-two. Helen's just following the pattern."

Griss blinked. "Ahh, it's enough to make a man stop dating."

Clark chuckled. "Well, sir, I think it's pretty much Lex's fault. The whole 'walking, talking sex' thing gets him in trouble every time."

Grissom laughed.

"Well?" Grissom politely demanded as he and Catherine walked through the doors.

"Tox screens show massive amounts of medical grade morphine in her system." The coroner handed them the test results. "Definitely enough to kill her."

"Morphine," Grissom repeated, pacing slowly around the table while his colleagues watched. "Pinpoint pupils, cyanosis in the skin and nails . . . they're all symptoms of asphyxiation."

"As well as morphine poisoning," Robbins pointed out.

"How could we miss this?" Catherine muttered, leaning over her body. "Injection sites are one of the first things we look for."

"That's because of all her track marks. Since she's a junkie, tracks are expected and there was no indication of a new injection was found."

"Then how?"

"This was pure genius." Dr. Robbins hobbled towards the body. His gloved hands twisting the hooker's arms for Catherine and Grissom's inspection. He indicated one of the puncture wounds on her arm. "Her killer used an extremely small gauged needle and shot the morphine into her system using one of Ms. Hatch's old injection sites."

As Gil leaned in for a closer look, Catherine leaned against the table, staring at David. "So whomever did this knew exactly what they were doing."

The older coroner nodded. "Yup."

Her partner straightened. "Like a doctor, maybe?"

"Mr. McNally, you want to tell them what you told me?" Brass leaned against the wall, staring intently at the fidgeting felon.

The blond's eyes flitted back and forth between the detective and the gorgeous woman across from him. Licking his lips, he leaned forward. "See, three nights ago, I was hangin' on the corner of Smith and 59th, just chillin', you know?"

Brass made noise, McNally flushed.

"Okay, so I was workin' the street too, big deal." He turned back to Catherine. "Well, I was watchin' the hookers, the johns, you know?" He nodded, like she had answered him. "Anyway, this Benz comes rollin' up and picks up Nina --"

"Miss Hatch?"

"Yeah, whatever," he waved negligently, "so Nina gets into the car, but she comes back out. Grabs my hand and says that the whale wants a third." He grinned lewdly. "Like I'm gonna say no, right? A man's gotta eat, right? Anyway, so we get into the car and roll over to the Big B."

"Then what happened, Mr. McNally?" Catherine quietly urged, placing a cup of water before him.

"We get up to the room and the lady tells me to fuck Nina. Gives me the rubber and everythin'."

"And then?"

He licked his lips again, hands going for the cup. "After I, you know, cum, she tells me to move and gets between Nina's legs. The bitch holds up this needle and Nina's all smiling, you know? Like she's about to get candy or somethin'."

"What was in the needle?"

He shrugged. "Don't know, but Nina was all quiet and shit after that bitch shot her up."

"What happened then?" Catherine prompted again.

"She tells me to grab Nina, that we're moving her."

"Did she say why?"

"Yeah, she did. Said her old man was down the hall and wanted to watch her and Nina go at it."

"How did you move her?" Brass demanded. "I mean, the Big B's got plenty of people moving around. And we know the three of you weren't in the rooms next to Luthor's."

"Well, after I fuck Nina and she shot her up, the bitch goes into the other room and changes. She's got this maid's dress on, you know? Ugly black thing? White apron?"

"All right, go on," Brass waved his free hand, the other taking notes.

"Well, I ask what the get up's for and she tells me her old man likes to role play. The bitch had everything! I mean, she even had the cart thing to put Nina in, you know? She said Nina was suppose to pop out of there like a stripper from a cake!"

"After you moved her, what happened?"

He shrugged. "She told me to beat it. Said that the only cock her old man was into was his own."

"Did you leave?"

He fell silent, Catherine and Brass exchanged quick glances.

"Listen, McNally, if you don't answer the lady's questions, I'm gonna book you for murder."

"Hey! What! I didn't murder nobody!"

"You're an accessory."

"Nah, man, nah! I didn't do it!"

"But you did see who did, didn't you, Mr. McNally?" she asked softly, bringing his attention back to her with her soft voice.

He licked his lips again, eyes darting between them. "I tell you, he don't book me, right?"

Catherine nodded. "If you testify, then yes."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." He nodded absently, as if to himself. "That bitch, she did it."

"How, Mr. McNally?"

"With a pillow. She yanked this pillow out of her bag and just covered Nina's face with it."

Brass closed the door behind Catherine's slender form. "She brought a pillow."

She nodded. "Premeditated murder."

"But why'd she bring the pillow? Wouldn't the evidence have been more damning if she used one of the pillows from Luthor's room?"

"I'm not sure," Catherine mused, her face locked in concentration as she wandered off without saying goodbye.

Brass just shook his head and grinned. He knew that look. All of the CSIs got it. This case was about to be blown wide open.

Catherine smiled at the young man pacing anxiously in the hallway. "Clark!"

"Hi, Ms. Willows." His grin, while bright, told of his exhaustion. "Did you find out anything?"

"A lot, actually." She gently tugged him down to sit by her and held up the evidence bag-encased pillow. "Clark, McNally told us Dr. Bryce brought this pillow to Lex's hotel room and used it to kill Ms. Hatch. Do you know why? Is it special? Maybe it's from their apartment?"

Clark laughed, carefully studying the pillow. "I don't think that pillow would match anything in the castle."

"Castle?"

"Yeah, Lex lives in a castle in Smallville." At her incredulous look, he gleefully launched into the story of how Lionel had each and every stone shipped over from Scotland and then banished his son there.

Catherine blinked. "Well, that must be nice to live in."

"Yeah, if you're looking for some place to haunt."

She grinned. "So you don't recognize the pillow?"

Clark shook his head, then slowly reached out. "May I?"

"Just don't take it out of the bag," Catherine warned, handing it over, and then watched as Clark carefully examined it.

"Uh, Ms. Willows?"

"Yes, Clark?"

"Go with me for a minute, okay? We know that Helen was trying to frame Lex for the murder, right?"

"Yeah."

"But what if she didn't want him to get convicted? What kind of evidence would be needed to be found in order to get the charges dropped?"

Her brow furrowed and Catherine knew she just had to trust the young man and go with it. "Well, because the body was found in Lex's room, we'd need something close to a 'smoking gun.' The murder weapon would have to be found in someone else's hand."

He nodded, turning the pillow in his hands. "What if . . . what if the murder weapon was something that Lex couldn't get his hands on? That he had no access to?"

"That," she nodded, "would work."

This time, his grin was absolutely brilliant, nearly shocking her with its shine.

"Does this work?" He flipped the pillow around, pointing to the tiny tag carefully stitched into the corner of the fabric.

LVH 1000.

She stared at the pillow. Then she stared, gap-mouthed, at Clark. "You, young man, are brilliant! What made you think of this?"

He leaned closer, a secret smile playing on his lips. "Shhh, don't tell anyone," he whispered, "but Lex loves Law and Order."

"Greg, how's the DNA tests coming on the Hatch murder?"

"Give me a few more minutes and I'll have 'em for you, boss man!" The eccentric lab tech swirled around the room, adjusting dials and checking up on charts.

"So, Griss, how do you think this all played out?" Nick leaned against a lab table, arms crossed, waiting for his boss to work it all out.

"Well, from what Mr. McNally told Catherine, Dr. Bryce injected Ms. Hatch right before they left the room. That would have given her and McNally just enough time to put Nina in the cart and head for Luthor's room. They get there, help Nina sprawl out on the couch -- that's why there was no evidence of her being moved -- and then Dr. Bryce smothered her while Nina was too comatose to react. After all, a body's reaction to suffocation is to fight."

"Yeah," Greg interjected, "but how did she get into Luthor's room?"

"Well, McNally said she had on a maid's uniform," Catherine answered, head tilted. "She probably just lifted some maid's cart and stole her skeletons keys." She grinned, turning to Nick. "I bet if we checked, we'd find a report of some hapless maid who either got brained over the head or injected with a sedative and her cart stolen."

"Do it," Grissom ordered. "The more nails in this coffin the better."

"Give me a gold star, my dear Mr. Grissom," Greg yelled, waving a sheet of paper triumphantly, "'cause the hair ain't the vic's."

The three CSIs exchanged triumph smiles.

"That's the last nail," Grissom announced.

"What I don't get is why?" Nick announced, following his partners out into the hall. "I mean, she's got method and opportunity, but what's her motive?"

"I think, " Catherine said slowly, "it has something to do with Clark."

Grissom stopped, head cocked. "We'll find out soon enough. Tell Brass to escort the doctor here. For some questioning. But don't have her arrested." He paused, chewing on the tip of his glasses. "Not just yet, anyway."

"Thank you for coming in, Dr. Bryce." Grissom leaned forward, eyes intently studying the woman before him.

"I would do anything to help Lex." She leaned forward as well, eyes radiating sincerity. "I love him."

Catherine chuckled, nodding. "I know what it's like. Having your whole life centered around a guy."

"Well, I wouldn't say my whole life revolved around him," she laughed lightly.

"But he is a major part, right?" Catherine reached out, fingers barely touching the diamond ring. "How long have you been engaged?"

Helen Bryce fiddled with the ring. "Two years."

"Wow, that's a long engagement."

"Well, we didn't want to rush into anything. Lex has been burned before. His first wife tried to kill him."

"Yes, we know, doctor." Grissom flipped open a file. "Desiree Atkins, right?" At her surprised look, he smiled grimly. "Clark told us." He watched intently as her eyes . . . twitched. Catherine was right. There was something dark inside the woman when it came to Clark Kent.

"I'm sure he did." She tried to smile lightly. "After all, he saved Lex from her."

"Does Clark save Lex a lot?" Catherine asked.

"Actually," Helen laughed, "he does."

"So they're very close?"

"Mr. Grissom, why are you asking me about Lex and Clark's relationship? I thought we were here to talk about the murder." Her face and tone were hard, eyes moving from his face to Catherine's. "Unless you think Clark had something to do with it? Because if you do, let me tell you right now: Clark Kent would never betray Lex. Never."

"Cain betrayed Abel, Dr. Bryce," Grissom pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "That would be Lucas' role. Clark is Lex's best friend. Their relationship doesn't work like that."

"How does it work?" Catherine asked, hearing a hint of bitterness in the woman's voice.

Dr. Bryce stared at them. "Does Clark have anything to do with the murder or not?"

"No," Grissom answered bluntly, "we think you do."

"What?"

"Where were you on the night of the eighteenth?"

"What?" She stared at the man as if he was insane. "Excuse me?"

"Just answer the question, Dr. Bryce."

She jerked, glaring at the detective. "What kind of question is that?"

"A valid one," Grissom pointed out. "Could you please answer it?"

"At home. In Smallville." She glared at him, daring him to prove her wrong.

"Then why do we have an eyewitness that says you were here, killing Nina Hatch?"

"What? Who?" Her eyes were wide, her mouth working. "Are you insane? Are you saying I killed this woman?"

"Yes."

"Why the hell would I kill some prostitute and leave her in my fianc's hotel room? Why would I frame Lex for murder?"

"Because you were planning to save him from it."

"What?" She spun at Catherine's soft voice.

"That was your plan, wasn't it?" Catherine nodded, pieces clicking into place, "Lex would be the prime suspect but you knew if evidence was found -- say a murder weapon he couldn't have access to -- was found then he'd be cleared." She leaned back, helplessly letting the look of admiration flit across her face. "Clark saves Lex a lot, you said so yourself. And we all know Lex is heavily invested in Clark. I've seen how Lex treats him," she denounced over Helen's objection. "I bet," Catherine leaned forward, eyes narrowing, "you were going to be the one who saved him this time, right? Be in the spotlight for once? Instead of Clark?"

Helen Bryce's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed as her body stiffened. "You don't have anything on me," she hissed.

"On the contrary," Grissom announced with a carefully hidden smugness, "we have an eyewitness who saw you commit the murder. We also have strands of hair that we believe will test positive against your's. We also have medical grade morphine so carefully injected into the victim's own track marks that only a doctor could have done it." He smiled as he watched her face as he laid out each piece of evidence. "All in all, Dr. Bryce, I do believe you're the one in need of saving."

Lex stood in the observation room, utterly flabbergasted by the proceedings on the other side of the two-way mirror. "Clark? How?"

Clark remained silent, instead only slipping closer to his friend.

It was Nick Stokes who answered. "Clark figured it out. Dr. Bryce probably planned to wait until we had a nearly rock solid case against you before coming forward with 'evidence' that linked your father to the crime scene."

"My father?"

Nick nodded. "The pillow?" He held it up, pointing to the tag in the corner. "LVH 1000 - Las Vegas Hilton, Suite 1000."

"That's my father's room," Lex grimly confirmed.

The CSI nodded. "She was probably going to visit your dad and then come to us, and, I don't know, maybe make an off-handed remark that she saw the same exact pillow in Mr. Luthor's room. That, of course, would have gotten us suspicious enough to investigate."

"Let me guess," Lex murmured, "and when you did search his room, you would have found the morphine, or maybe the needle?"

"Yup. But fortunately for you," he grinned at Clark, clamping him on his shoulder. "Clark here was at the right place at the right time."

"Yes," Lex murmured with a smile, eyes drawing Clark closer to his side. "He does have that talent." He suddenly turned serious again as they watched Helen being cuffed and Mirandized. "May I speak to her?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Mr. Luthor." Nick shifted nervously.

"I want to see her."

"Mr. Luthor--" He placed himself squarely in front of the door, then froze as Luthor's bodyguards moved towards him.

"Lex."

Luthor glanced over at his friend, eyes seeming to drop their icy facade. "I need to know why, Clark."

"Lex, I don't think --"

"If it makes you feel any better, you can be right beside me."

Even in the semi-darkness, Nick could see the war going on behind those eyes.

"Mr. Stokes needs to be there too," Clark demanded quietly.

"Fine." And with that, Luthor strolled out of the room just in time to confront his former fiancee.

Dr. Bryce seemed stunned to see him, her body slumping in the officers' grips. "Lex."

"Why?" Luthor murmured. "Why did you do it?"

Dr. Bryce wildly shook her head. "The plan was perfect! You were the main suspect, you were under stress. Everything was going perfectly, except him." She glared at Clark. "You were suppose to turn to me for help! Not him!"

People moved back as she began to giggle.

"You should have loved me. I'm the perfect wife for you. The respected doctor. The blueblood." Her laughter and voice grew louder. "We were the perfect couple! Everyone said so. But no," she hissed. "It was all lies. Everything, a sham. I wanted you so much, but you gave me nothing!"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Helen, I did love you."

"Love me?" She laughed incredulously. "Love me? I'm the one you fuck." She jerked her chin at Clark. "He's the one you love. Some no account, worthless, trailer park trash, hick farmboy."

Lex seemed frozen by her words before shaking it off. The smile that graced his lips made many step back. His hand slowly lifted, officers readied themselves to protect the criminal, as was their duty. Instead, Luthor gently brushed her hair from her face, fingertips barely touching her skin. "Good-bye, Helen."

The CSIs watched from a short distance as the college student stood hunched into a corner and waited for his friend to finish signing the paperwork for his things.

"Clark?"

A mockery of his usually brilliant smile appeared briefly. "Hi."

Luthor frowned. "You're not blaming yourself for her delusions, are you?" His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer.

"N-no. No, of course not."

"Liar," he murmured kindly. It got another fake smile. "Clark?" He took another step forward, hands cupping Clark's elbows.

"Maybe I shouldn't have--"

They watched with amusement as Luthor silenced the unfounded guilt with his mouth.

One, two, three, four gentle loving kisses later, the two men pulled back, but never let go of each other. Exchanged smiles later, they were gone.

"Man, was that sappy or what? Ouch!" Nick glared at Catherine, rubbing the back of his head.

She glared at him, then grinned at Gil, who smirked.

"Well, that's a new twist on happily ever after."

Catherine laughed.

Clark curled around his lover, nuzzling into the soft, drying skin behind Lex's ear. "I think you killed me."

Lex chuckled, hand reaching back to thread through sweat-damp hair. He sighed as he was cradled close, then frowned as he felt the growing tension around him. "Clark?"

"I still feel --"

"Clark --" Lex turned over, a stern reprimand on his lips.

"Sorry for Helen."
Lex nodded, trailing his fingers up Clark's bare back.

"You don't, do you?"

He smiled ferally. "Not really. She's getting what she deserves." Picking up Clark's hand, he kissed the backs of his lover's fingers. "Her actions brought us together." Nudging Clark's head up, Lex stared into hazel eyes. "I'm not sorry at all."

Clark flashed a blinding smile before lowering his head, brushing his lips against Lex's. "Love you," he murmured against scarred lips.

"Love you," Lex answered, meaning it for the first time in a very long time.

The End