She lays on the bed, silently looking at the gleam of his wedding ring on the dresser as she hears his chest beat below her.

She knows how wrong all of this is. She's known it since day one. Yet they always end up in the same place: each others arms.

Guilt overcomes her as he tightens her grip on her. She knows what she should do. End this. All of it. Right now. She's destroying so much every time she touches him; but it's a drug. So bad for her, yet she can't stop using.

Morning light begins to filter through the curtains, the golden light casting a warm glow on his face. She stares at it, drinking in the his features. Even with his eyes shut, she can still see them perfectly. The way they stare at her, watch her. He stirs, and she waits until he settles back into his slumber before silently slipping out of the bed. She tiptoes over to his closet, selecting one of his long-sleeved shirts and quietly buttoning it up, letting the large sleeves hide her hands.

The sadness and guilt hit her as she wanders into his kitchen. She tries to ignore the other things she feels. The love she has for him. How she would kill just to call him hers. She pushes the feelings away and ties her hair into a a knot on top of her head, putting his prized coffee on the pot.

"Hi, Brownie Bits." He murmurs into her ear, looping his arms around her waist. She startles, and a he lets out a low, sweet laugh. She can't help but notice that he put hissing back on, and she closes her eyes to stop the fall of tears. She opens them again, hoping he doesn't notice the wetness of her eyes. He does, and guilt fills his body. He knows what he's doing. He's destroying Sara Sidle, the woman he once thought was invincible. But she's not, and neither was he. He's destroying everything. Himself, Sara, Morgan.

"Don't call me that." She says.

"Why not, Brownie Bits? It suits you perfectly. You have those gooey brown eyes, like brownie batter."

"Is everything food to you, Greg Sanders?" She asks him, tearing herself away from him to pour two cups of his famous Blue Hawaiin.

"Why, yes it is." She hands him the cup, and he takes a long sip.

"I should go soon." She whispers to him after a downing her coffee. They both are suddenly reminded that this is all temporary. The only reason they're not sneaking around is because his wife is away. "Morgan's going to be back soon. You must be excited."

"Yeah." He lies, and as he watches her walk back into the bedroom to get dressed, he bites back the words he so desperately wants to say to her. She emerges a few minutes later, wearing yesterday's clothes.

"I'll see you soon." Whether she's referring to the next hook-up or work, neither of them know. She slips out of the apartment, fighting the urge to stay with everything she has. Once the door has shut, Greg releases the words he held back.

"Don't go.