The mercenary turned and nodded to Phil, who came up to the bar next to him. "Evenin'," Griss said. "Nice to see you out and about for a change."
Phil shrugged. "Time for a change, I guess."
"Proving once again," Grissom said jokingly, "that you don't need an identity to have personality."
Phil chuckled. "I guess not." He looked around. "You had quite an entourage going earlier," he said. "Looked like fun."
"Just came over here to take a break," Montag said. "It's hard to think straight when you have gorgeous women all over you."
Phil smirked. "I wouldn't know, but I'm sure you don't mind very much at all."
Grissom sighed. "They ran off to watch the drinking contest."
"Which Wulf won."
"Naturally," the Brit said. "So, how are things going with you and Leslie?"
Phil looked down. "They're not, really."
Grissom raised an eyebrow. "You two looked like quite the pair when you made that little entrance together."
"Yeah," Phil admitted. "Thanks for the help, by the way."
"Anytime," Grissom said. "You can pay me for the flashbang grenades later, but the teleportation is on the house, as per usual." He ordered a pint from the bartender. "But there really isn't anything going on between the two of you?"
Phil sighed. "I really don't know. I mean, I'm crazy about her, and it seems that she likes me, but... I don't know. It's just not a good time."
"As opposed to during Hurricane Jason?" Grissom challenged him. "I don't see anything wrong with letting things happen." He smiled at a pretty Hispanic waitress who walked by.
Phil nodded. "Maybe you're right." He smiled at the waitress - and did a double-take as she walked off. Impossible.
Griss wasn't paying attention. "Personally, Mr. Smith," he said slyly, "I think it's high time you tossed your inhibitions to the wind and just make love to her like she's been dying for you to." He turned. "You all right, mate?"
Phil's face paled. "I... I don't know."
Grissom chuckled. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I...think...I have," Phil stammered.
"That waitress - you know her?" Grissom asked. "I've never seen her before. I didn't even know she worked here."
"She's..." Phil shook his head. Don't kid yourself. "Sorry. She just reminded me an awful lot of someone." He smiled. "I'm all right. Now, where's Leslie?"
"Sitting over there talking to Shirley and Mick," Grissom said. "I didn't see them come in, actually. You may not have to worry about some bloke runnin' off with her - the gents seem rather taken with Jackie and her sister over there."
"That's all right," Phil said. "Jackie's cute, and her sister's nice-looking too, and they're certainly entitled to have guys around them. But me? My mind's made up." He started to leave. "Hey, I'll be there tomorrow to give you a hand with the new security implements, if you need it."
"I think I've got it handled," the mercenary said, "but I could sure use a hand with some other stuff."
"I figured as much," Phil said. "So I figured I'd go ahead and move back into my room up there, since it was on the side that wasn't hit as hard. Leslie wants to tag along, if that's okay."
Grissom shrugged. "Let her. It's no trouble." The bartender handed him his drink. "Thanks for the help," Grissom said. "Now get over there and talk to the girl!"
Phil laughed. "That's an affirmative, Griss. I'm on it."
