Author's Note: Hello everyone. So yeah, Greg/Sara is my ultimate OTP and I've been working on this story for some time now. I think I'm actually almost happy with the way it's turned out. This is Part One of only two parts and takes place sometime between "Committed" and just after Greg's hair goes flat so, spoliers for Season 5. If anyone has anything constructive to say, that'd be cool. I love the feedback.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be.

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She really has to let go.

Actually, she knows she has to let go.

'Cause she's thinking about him again and she's pretty sure this almost obsession, is bordering on self-destructing.

And the last thing she needs right now is a breakdown.

A Gil Grissom breakdown.

Especially when it's made so brutally obvious he doesn't feel the same. She remembers looking out that barred window so vividly. She was so scared after escaping that psycho, felt so trapped, felt so intensely alone. A total overload.

He just stared at her, a safe distance down the hall, as if afraid she were an emotional bomb, on the countdown to detonation.

So, admitting you have a problem, is the first step to recovery, right? The first step into getting over an addiction?

Because that's what this is. What he is.

An addiction.

She's become dependent on her broken heart because, she can't remember when it wasn't in glass-like pieces, laying on the floor. It all dates back to her less-then-happy childhood. Mommy stabbed Daddy. Pretty much says it all.

And it's like a drug. An unrequited love intoxication.

She wants to get clean because, she's not even sure if this counts as love anymore. It's become more like self-inflicted emotion abuse. No. Torture.

She tortures herself with wanting him. Voices in her head cutting her soul.

"He'll never love you." It's like a slash. Imagine the blood. It all leaves her just a little more empty. Makes the void just a little bigger.

And the system works because, no one can see the scars on the inside.

And it's sad she needs this perfect pain.

So, she really needs to let go.

Before her self-destruction.

Before the breakdown.

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"Come away with me." And she's sure she's never heard that phrase sound so ridiculous in her entire life.

"What are you talking about?" She knows lately they've gotten closer. He makes her laugh, they talk. Basically, their friends but...this is just weird.

"Come away with me." He repeats, stepping into dim light of her apartment.

"Greg...I...we-" She's almost speechless because it's more of a command than open invitation. And common...it's Greg.

"Let me take you away from here." She can't help but think something's off. Like he's not himself. Drunk maybe?

Instead, she asks cautiously, "Take me where exactly?"

"Away." Or maybe he's acting too much like himself, because now she's annoyed, but his smile is so contagious, and this could just be a joke. Or, he could have just completely lost it.

"Where?"

"I need to show you something." His eyes are pleading and exhilarated and so alive, "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." Her monotone and frown make him laugh.

"I know." And that smile is really horribly distracting, "So, you in?" She's never met anyone who could do puppy-dog eyes while smiling like that, and it's so hard to say no but it comes out anyway.

"Too bad."

Before she knows it, he's pulling her towards the door making her forgotten beer spill onto the hardwood floor, "Hey! Watch the beer!" Her scold only earning another laugh.

"Chug it!" She finds no choice but to oblige, and the bottle is gone in seconds, followed by the sound of an obviously impressed whistle.

"Wow. You're a pro." Her eyes shift to the floor, flushing slightly at the would-be compliment, "You ready now?"

"Greg, I've got stuff to do and-"

"This is way more important then stuff." He interrupts before she has to come up with an excuse. And just the way he's looking at her... well, her curiosity is taking over, and she's being dragged out the door when she realizes this isn't really her choice anymore.

"Why are you doing this?" She doesn't get it. He stops just before the stairs and sighs, the smile slipping from his face for the first time. She's actually sorry she's the reason why.

"I watch you."

"You watch me?" The only truly alarming part of that statement, is the fact she's almost okay with it.

"You need to let go, Sara." And now she's wondering when Greg the Swami turned into an actual mind reader. "I can see you're being torn apart." He's staring, transfixed on her face. "From the inside out."

And now she's wondering when Greg started caring so much. Caring enough to notice.

But then again, she thinks he's always noticed.

Her silence and sad, understanding expression seem like enough for him because, his smile has made a spectacular come back, and they're almost running down the flights, her hand held tightly in his.

-

"You're kidnaping me." She states accusingly as she stares out the car window, the sparkle of the Las Vegas nightlife illuminating the world around them in a contrast of multicolors.

"Semi-kidnaping."

"No, you're kidnaping me." She's really wants to sound more angry but she can't, "I, in no way, agreed to this...road trip or whatever the hell this is." She can't because beneath the confusion, she hates to admit, is underlining excitement and... a smile of her own fighting to be seen.

"It's only semi-kidnaping because you trust me." She turns sharply at the comment, eye brows knit together.

"How would you know?" Now she sounds angry.

"I can see it in you're eyes," He says softly while looking directly into her dark pools, "You trust me with your life." And she can feel herself melt against her will and she can't truthfully deny him.

And now she's scared.

And now she's vulnerable because, she's never trusted anyone as much as him.

But she can't help feeling that, if she falls, he'll be there to catch her.

Then it hits her, like lightening, maybe's he's waiting for her to catch him?

"Greg...This isn't some kind of grand, romantic gesture, is it?" Another sigh escapes his lips, only this time it's painful, and when she sees his features filled with hurt, she immediately regrets the question.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't love you, Sara." There's a broken look behind his eyes that she knows all too well.

Hold it. Back up. Love?

She was expecting an "I have feelings" or even just an "I like you" if anything at all. Love definitely was not on the list.

And she wants so desperately to believe he's lying.

And she hopes she doesn't appear as shocked as she feels.

Ane somewhere inside, there's this part of her that says she's always known. And another says that she could love him too.

But where did that come from?

She doesn't want to leave him in silence, letting his confession linger heavy in the air. Only now, words just won't come.

She forgot what it felt like to be loved. Forgot it felt so terrifying and overwhelming and mind-blowing all at once.

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