A/N: Two things to say actually, well make it three if you count the disclaimer that I don't own the characters or the title, first thing was I didnt want to post while the alerts were down just in case anyone missed a story or anything. The second is a bit bigger, I've noticed I've posted almost 100 fics, this makes number 97 and I've been thinking on what to make the 100th story, I was thinking of maybe posting the final one to this, or a CaRWash, or even a Prison Break or even a sequel to When You're Gone, that's been kicking around in my head for the last few days. Feedback on which you think I should post is greatly appreciated. And of course reviews are always welcome.

And I'm So Sorry But Not Really

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Greg found himself whistling as he came into work later in the evening.

The guilt that had been piling up on his shoulders were gone and he had so much to live for. He'd pulled both sets of revenge off and really life was dandy. Neither could do anything about – nor would Grissom try. Sara was likely to murder him so he began whistling the funeral march as he passed her and Warrick talking over a new case they had gotten last night. All Sara could do is watch him walk by and think of all the ways she wanted to kill him.

"You seem to be in a rather happy mood" Nick told his colleague was Greg himself got a cup of juice from the back of the fridge behind one of Grissom's pig head's. He was trying to lay off coffee it really was an addiction that he could beat at least it was as bad as heroin.

"What's not to be happy about? The weather today was gorgeous, I got an awesome sleep and I had a good supper. Life could not be grander unless you know some playmates"

"I'm afraid I don't"

"A man can dream" he toasted Nick who was holding a similar coffee cup and drank the rest of the contents and dashed out before Nick could ask him what the hell he was on.

"I don't believe you" came from behind him hours later as he looked at the crime scene photos before him

"You don't believe what?" his eyes followed the person who spoke

"That you feel nothing you couldn't be so that much in love even if you were acting"

"Believe toots, what I feel for you isn't love"

"So you do feel something"

"It's called a primal urge the sex between us was amazing to say the least" he walked around the table closer to her his eyes on the photo's he only noticed how close he was when he heard her intake of breath.

"See you feel it too, it's like this urge that's hard to control"

"What I feel is more than lust"

"Okay" he continued on working looking at the gravitational splatter of the blood drops. The woman was definitely the first to be killed with the way the blood drops were leading away from her.

"That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say? I'm working something you should be doing, if you really want to talk about this although there's not much more to say then we will after shift at the same coffee shop we were at after shift"

"Unbelievable" she muttered to herself as she walked out the door

"Well it better become believable because I can't tell you something that I don't have" he said to the empty room and began the task of going though the physical evidence. He would make her hate him more so than she already did. She just didn't know it yet and it would all be because of a few words he would utter that would get her so disgusted with him that she couldn't help but be grossed out by him.

He was sure of it or he would be this week's paycheck on it.

What's the worst that could happen she actually say yes?

Even then he still won.