He never wanted to be sober again.
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of its characters.
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He appeared in front of her apartment. It was 1 in the morning. He admitted, he was drinking before he had the sudden urge to ring her doorbell, but he was definitely not drunk. He was happy to hear she wasn't asleep, her tv was still on.
She heard her doorbell and frowned, who the hell would ring her bell in the wee hours of the morning? She looked through the peep-hole. Apparently Greg would. She opened the door to him.
"Hi Sara." He smiled at her. She was in her PJs. Very cute.
She could smell alcohol in his breathe.
"You're drunk, Greg."
His smile widened, "No I'm not. Are you going to make me walk in a straight line and stretch out my hands? I did drink, but I'm definitely not drunk."
As if to prove his point, he started reciting his multiplication table.
She laughed, "Okay, I get it. What are you doing here then?"
He took a deep breathe and pulled a flower from behind his back, it was a single white flower he had plucked from a bush on his way up.
She raised her brow, "You drove across town to give me a flower you got from a bush downstairs?"
"... Of course not." He was stalling for time. The guts he had gotten from drinking just now had suddenly packed their bags and headed for the Sahara. Traitors. But he was already in front of her, he couldn't turn back now.
He took a huge breathe, "Sara... I've.. I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you step into the lab. I... I really, really like you." He took another breathe and continued. "I know you see me as an immature loser who doesn't take his job seriously and fools around all the time in the lab, but I'm really, really serious about you."
He gave her a shaky smile when he saw her shocked expression. He didn't know what to expect from her because he'd never thought of what he'd actually do after that. Oh, he had blew it. He had definitely blew it. It was a very, extremely bad idea and he should have never done it in the first place. But he knew that if he didn't do it tonight, he'd never do it.
He spoke up again, anything was better than this awkward silence. "Wanna say something? Like at least reject me so I can leave?"
He stared at her, waiting for a reaction, and to his utter surprise, she started Loudly. "Oh Greggo, just so you know, I don't think you're an immature loser. You're really amazing, Greg."
She took a step forward and gave him a hug. "And thank you very much for the flower."
He smiled. His guts had decided to cut short their holiday. "So, err, will you go out with me?"
She returned his smile, "Sure. Why not?"
His smile, if possible, widened. "Okay, Now that I've got it over and done with, I'll leave now. See you tomorrow Sara, and sorry for dropping by like that." He turned to leave when she suddenly called out to him.
"Hey Greg, listen, I can't sleep anyway, so you... wanna come in? I've got beer."
Oh yes, he was grateful he had come here in the first place. "Well then, don't mind if I do."
Fine, he admitted, he was drunk. He was giddy with the thought of being able to go out with her. He was drunk with the thought that something, something special might happen to their relationship. Oh yes, he never wanted to be sober again.
A/N: Thinking of doing one-shots starting with A and working all the way to Z... testing the waters with this. Tell me if you think it's a good idea.. (: Comments welcomed, as usual.