Author's note: I have no idea where this came from and it's kind of lame, so… sorry. I think I just miss Sara. And damn this whole GSR plotline! They crushed all my fondest hopes and dreams. Anyway, this was written and posted all in one go, because if I don't do it that way nothing ever gets finished or posted. I'm sure I'll find some mistakes later and want to change everything, and it very well may suck. Oh well. Even if no one else reads it, at least it made me happy.

Rating: The T is for the sex.

Reviews are awesome, of course, but I'm desperate enough that just seeing the 'hits' number go up makes me kind of happy (but reviews are better!)

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, Greg would always be shirtless.

Hank kissed her like her tonsils were a piece of candy that he wanted to taste, but she supposed that wasn't so awful. At least she had someone to kiss.

Greg kisses her like he could get lost in the feel of her lips (and sometimes he does), like he would give up everything just to have her soft lips on his forever (he would).

Hank touched her like she was solid flesh and bone. Sometimes he thought she was a little more solid than she was, but so what? A bruise on her arm from where he gripped her in bed, not having noticed the pain in her eyes was really no big deal, because at least she had someone to share a bed with.

Greg touches her like she's something precious and holds her like he can't bear to let her go (he can't). The only bruise she's ever gotten from him was from a doorknob digging into her back when they got a little carried away (he kissed it better for her, though).

Hank was never one to enjoy making out for the sake of making out. Generally, kissing her above the neck was a way to get access to what was below her neck. At least she didn't have to worry about covering up hickeys.

Greg was the reason her least favorite shirt became the one she wears the most – it's the only one that covers his 'love bites', as he calls them (he tries not to, it's just that she smells and tastes and feels so good).

Hank always wanted to be on top, and sometimes left her just short of satisfied, and usually rolled over and fell asleep afterward, but at least it was sex. Her life had been lacking that for a long while, so she counted her blessings.

Greg is on top the first time, because she lets him, thinking that's what guys want (he's not complaining, mind you). When her world stops melting and the waves of pleasure subside, she finds herself looking into his eyes as he lies on his side next to her, watching her (never could his imagination have done her justice). Then his hands are on her again, burning across her body, and he tells her turn to drive.

Hank's eyes changed when they were together, and she convinced herself that it was more than lust making his pupils dilate.

Greg's eyes meet hers and they light up (he loves when she smiles at him like that). They burn with passion (and when she banters with him) and glow with love (and when she blushes) and darken with desire (and he loves when she's naked – hey, he's still a guy).

Hank told her he loved her, usually at the most advantageous times for him, like when he wanted something, but she longed to hear the words, so she let it slide.

Greg loves her. She knows because he tells her to her face, whispers it into her mouth, breathes it across her skin. And she knows because when he thinks she's fallen asleep, he says it again.

Hank cheated on her. She can't really brush that one off.

Greg promised to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to honor, and to forsake all others, until death do they part. Amen.