Dry Clean Only
Disclaimer: I don't own Greg or Sara. I'm just borrowing.
"Jeez, Sara, if you were going to wear a belly top, you should've been prepared to have every guy in the lab staring at your navel," Greg said, staring at her stomach to emphasise his point. Sara glared at him and pulled her shirt down again.
"It's not a belly top. It shrunk in the wash. It was the only clean top I had," she snapped, turning away and pouring her coffee.
"Hey, I'm not complaining," he replied, raising his hands in surrender. "It looks good on you." A cheeky grin spread across his face. "Seriously, wear a belly top anytime you want – Hey!" Sara smacked his head once more for good measure.
"You're annoying," she stated, shaking her head, not sure whether she wanted to kill him or kiss him.
"That's what you love about me," Greg said playfully, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her, fiddling with the collar of her shirt. Sara rolled her eyes and pulled away, but smiled at him.
"Don't push it, Sanders," she said, turning to leave the break room.
"Hey, Sara?" Greg asked, grabbing her elbow.
"What, Greg?" Sara replied, turning around.
"Next time, you might wanna take your dry-clean only clothes to a dry cleaner. Just a suggestion," he said shrugging. Sara couldn't remember the last time she'd blushed so deeply.