Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone. I do this for my enjoyment only.
Author's Note: My first three stories, Snap, Loss of Innocence, and Shattered Glass, were Grissom/Sara, and this one has nothing to do with those three. This one will be Greg/Sara.
Summary: What would have happened if Greg had visited Sara before Grissom after she was suspended in Nesting Dolls? How would their lives have been different from that point onward?
Still Waters Run Deep
Chapter 1
Sara Sidle paused in her typing when she heard the soft knocking on her apartment door. Sighing heavily, she left the computer and slowly made her way to the door, her semi-warm beer hanging from one hand. She really wasn't in the mood to be sociable, least of all to anyone who was associated with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. No doubt, the person on the other side of her apartment door was one of those people, the main forerunner being her supervisor, Gil Grissom. Another possibility was Catherine Willows, here to gloat. Or, worst of all, Conrad Ecklie personally hand delivering her pink slip.
So, in fact, Sara Sidle was very surprised to find Greg Sanders, blonde, spiked hair and all, on the other side of her door. "Greg, what are you doing here?" she asked, not unkindly, but not exactly in a warm and welcoming manner, either.
"Can I come in?" he replied, trying to gently move her out of the doorway and make his way into her inner sanctum.
She was about to tell him no, to push him away from the door so she could slam it shut and lock it, when she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. His deep, soulful brown eyes. Not his usual bright, sparkling with mischief brown eyes. One look into those eyes and Sara saw how profoundly worried about her he was. And she couldn't say no. Not that she ever really could when it came to Greg, anyway.
"Yeah, okay," she said softly, moving to the side to allow him to enter. Once he was in her apartment, she closed the door and walked past him to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" she asked politely.
"Got any more of those?" he asked, indicating the Sam Adams in her hand.
Nodding, Sara opened the refrigerator and bent down to the bottom shelf. She reached in and removed one of the remaining bottles. Standing up, she shut the fridge rather more forcefully than she had intended, causing a few take-out menus to fall to the floor. Ignoring them, she handed the extra beer to Greg across the bar counter, and then took another long swallow of hers.
"Why are you here, Greg?" Sara asked suddenly, deciding she should just get this over with.
"I, uh, I heard about your, uh, your…blowup at Catherine and at, ah, at Ecklie," Greg stammered, a little take aback at Sara's directness. Truth be told, he had been pretty sure that he'd have had to force this issue, and was very surprised that Sara had initiated the conversation.
"Yeah, that," Sara said, laughing mirthlessly. "It was very unprofessional, and will probably lead to a pink slip, so don't do it." She turned away from him then, placing her empty beer bottle in the sink, and grabbing another from the fridge. "Want another? Or maybe some food, perhaps?"
"Why'd you do it?" Greg asked quickly, trying to keep her from retreating.
"I have some veggie stir-fry I could whip up…some tofu casserole…"
"Sara," Greg pleaded nervously, running a hand through his hair, making it stand more on end, if that was possible. "Talk to me. I'm a good listener, you know."
"What's there to say, Greg?" Sara asked heatedly, turning back to face him, hands on hips, a thunderous look on her face. "I yelled at Catherine and Ecklie over something very stupid and now I'll probably be fired. Not much to say about that."
"Why'd you yell at them?" When Sara just shrugged at him in response, Greg felt himself becoming angry, arms waving around as he loudly exclaimed, "Oh, come on! There has to be a reason! You get this way every time there's a domestic violence or a rape case, especially if they lead to a death!" He watched as Sara's face went from angry to remorseful in a matter of seconds, then on to scared. And Greg knew that he was on to something, that there was something Sara was keeping hidden. A real reason as to why those types of cases really affected her. Greg came around the counter then and took her hands in his. "Look," he continued in a soft, comforting tone, "I'm your friend; at least I thought I was. And friends talk to each other and go to each other for help. Let me help you."
"You are my friend, my best friend, but I don't know if I can talk about it," she whispered back, almost pleading for him to make her. At least, that was Greg's hopeful interpretation.
"C'mon. Let's go sit down and you can start. Take as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere. There's no place else I'd rather be right now. Okay?" Taking her nod as agreement, Greg, still holding Sara's hands, led her over to her small couch and made her sit down, putting himself right next to her. Their new positions on the couch forced Greg to drop one of her hands, but Sara laced her fingers with his with her other, squeezing tight, trying to reassure herself that he wasn't going anywhere. They sat like that for a few minutes, holding hands tightly, Sara staring at her coffee table, Greg staring at Sara, until Sara began to speak, her voice laced with sadness and apprehension.
"I lived through a lot of domestic violence as a kid," she began quietly. "My father…he…my mother, brother, and I were always at the hospital for something or other. Always saying we fell down the stairs…off our bikes…lots of cuts, bruises. Broken bones. As far back as I can remember. There wasn't a time where there wasn't…All the yelling, the fighting, the fists…I thought it was normal." Sara paused there to use her free hand to wipe some tears from her face before she could continue. "One night, it was really bad. My brother had already taken off. I haven't heard from him since. But that night…it…I…She killed him Greg. With the carving knife, and I…" At that statement, Sara broke down sobbing, and Greg pulled her tightly against him, rocking her back and forth. It surprised him, but only for a moment, that he was crying, too, crying for his friend and all the horrors she'd lived through as a kid. He felt Sara burrowing her head against his chest, hands fisting his Marilyn Manson t-shirt, and Greg did all that he could to comfort her, though he realized that she may be beyond that now.
"I'm so sorry, Sara, that you had to go through that," he whispered into her ear. "I'm here right now, just let it all out. I won't let you fall." After a long time, Sara's sobs quieted down, and she was left leaning against Greg, occasional shudders passing over her body, and sniffs the only sound she made. "What happened to you after that night?" Greg questioned softly, knowing there was more to this ordeal.
"I was only twelve. Foster care," Sara whispered, sniffing again.
"Were you…okay in foster care?" Greg asked cautiously, afraid of the stories and secrets she may be harboring about being a ward of the state.
"Some homes were better than others," Sara told him. "But I don't have any of the horror stories that other kids do. All my foster parents were decent. There wasn't any abuse or neglect."
"Did, um, did you have to testify? Against your mother?" Greg asked quickly, hoping he wasn't opening up another can of worms.
He felt Sara shake her head against his chest as she answered. "No. The psychologist I was forced to see said that it would be too much on top of the trauma I'd already sustained. They wanted to hear my story, but I could do it through a deposition, with the psychologist there to prevent any…damage…that could come about. But I never had to say anything. My mother told them everything, so they didn't need my account."
Greg sighed deeply. "Oh, Sara, I wish there was something I could say…that I could tell you I understand…"
"It's okay, Greg," Sara cut him off. "It means a lot that you care so much to make me talk. That you're here right now. You don't have to say anything. Just don't…"
"Don't what?" Greg asked when Sara paused again.
"Don't walk out that door yet, okay?" she said in a small voice, gripping him a little tighter.
"I'm not going anywhere," Greg assured her with finality.
"Okay," Sara said. After a moment, she asked fearfully, "Do you think murder is genetic?"
"No," he replied without hesitation. "And you should believe me. I was a DNA tech. I know all about genes."
"I sometimes wonder if…"
"You'll be just like them?" he completed her question. When he felt her nod against him, he continued softly, "But you won't be. Sure, genetically, you're a combination of your parents, so you might have his eyes and her nose and such, but really, your personalities will be different. They're them and you're you. Your external stimuli, which are just as important in determining characteristics as your internal stimuli, are drastically different than theirs. Different stimuli means different trait expression."
"Okay," Sara said again, this time yawning. "Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy," he assured her.
Greg could tell that Sara was fighting sleep, could feel her forcing her eyes open as she leaned against him. After such an emotional upheaval, Greg knew she must be exhausted. He was exhausted after just listening. Hoping he wasn't overstepping the bounds and almost fearful that she was about to throw him out for what he was doing, Greg leaned back on the couch, adjusting his position so that he was lying down, taking Sara with him. He made sure she was secure, lying half on him, half between him and the back of her couch, as he wrapped one arm around her head, threading his fingers through her dark hair to hold the back of it to his chest. He placed his other arm around her back, gently rubbing soothing circles across it. When Sara made no move to get away, but rather snuggled in closer, Greg knew that Sara had decided to accept what security he could give her. It didn't take long for both of them to fall asleep.
Greg awoke to the sound of a knock on the door. At first he was confused. Where the hell was he? He lifted his head up off the couch and looked around, taking in his surroundings. This was not his apartment; the walls were a deep purple, the furniture earth tones and actually matching, the couch wasn't nearly as comfortable, and he most certainly didn't have a brunette at home to snuggle with. A brunette whom he recognized right away. Sara. Then it all came back to him, the conversation he'd had with his friend earlier. He was at Sara's apartment, and she had shared some deep, dark secrets about her past with him. And then they had fallen asleep on the couch.
The knocking increased in volume and became more insistent. Not wanting to have it wake up Sara, he carefully extracted himself from her, gently fixing her on the couch, and then made his way quietly to the door, hoping it would open without a loud squeak. And hoping he could convince whomever it was that this was a bad time and to come back later, thank you very much.
Opening the door, Greg saw the last person he'd expected to see. Grissom. And, by the look on Grissom's face, he was the last person the entomologist had expected.
"Greg? I came to see Sara…" Grissom began, confused, until Greg cut him off, shushing him.
"Shhh. She's sleeping and I don't want to wake her up," Greg whispered to the older man, ushering him in and quietly closing the door behind him. "We fell asleep about…" Greg paused to glance at his watch, then continued, "five hours ago, and she's still out like a light. What are you doing here, Grissom?"
"I came to talk to Sara. What are you doing here?" Grissom whispered back, agreeing with Greg for the moment that Sara should stay asleep.
"I, uh, heard about her little tiff with Catherine and Ecklie, and came to, ah, make sure she was okay," Greg replied nervously, biting his bottom lip. Being around Grissom made him nervous. Grissom made him nervous, mostly because all Greg wanted to do was impress the man, and in trying to do so, he inevitably, most times, screwed up. However, in this case, he was more nervous that Grissom would ask him if Sara'd said anything, given him any reason as to why she'd flipped out, to which Greg had no idea how to answer. On the one hand, he thought Grissom should know about Sara's past, if only to help him understand where she was coming from and to possibly help save her job. On the other hand, Greg felt that if he told Grissom what Sara had revealed to him, he'd be betraying her trust, and that was just something he couldn't do. She had told him something deep, something private, that she obviously didn't want anyone to know, and Greg didn't want to let her down and destroy any bond they may have formed earlier.
"Did she talk to you about why it happened?" Grissom asked Greg.
And there it was. The dreaded question. Greg shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking away from his boss and over at the sleeping woman on the couch. She'd curled up into the fetal position, and looked, to Greg, to be shivering. She was cold without him there. He left Grissom standing by the door to go over to Sara and remove the blanket from the back of the couch and arrange it over her, tucking it in around her back and up under her chin. He remained crouched down by her face for a moment, brushing a strand of her dark hair off her cheek and tenderly tucking it behind her ear. He took another moment just to stare at her, giving him time to think about what to tell Grissom. Finally, he quietly made his way back to the older man, motioning him to follow into the bathroom. Once both men were in the small room, Greg turned on the light and closed the door, so that the sound of their voices wouldn't wake his friend up.
"She, ah, she talked to me about it, yeah," he started nervously, stumbling over his words.
"Did she give some kind of explanation? I need one so that I can try to fix this with Ecklie. He wants me to fire her, you know," Grissom was direct.
"Yeah, she kinda figured that," Greg said slowly. "See, the way it is, Gris…she told me some stuff, that I think you should probably know, but I can't tell you. I can't betray her like that. It explains a lot…" Greg scrubbed his face with his hands, not sure where to go with this conversation. "I think it'll help her to talk about it with someone…"
"Greg," Grissom said warningly. "I'm her supervisor. If there's something going on that affects the way she performs her job, friendship aside, I need to know."
"I can't tell you, Grissom," Greg said pleadingly. "Please don't ask me to." He turned away from Grissom and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know what to do here."
"Greg, I can't protect her if I don't know what's going on," Grissom pointed out softly, recognizing how difficult this was for the younger man. He knew Greg cared for Sara, but he had had no idea how deep the man's feelings ran. It appeared as if Greg felt his friendship with Sara was the most important thing to him, even more important that either of their jobs.
"Can I just say that Sara has first hand experience with long term domestic violence and leave it at that?" Greg questioned sadly, still facing away from Grissom. When he heard Grissom grunt behind him, Greg turned around slowly at met the other man's eyes. "Did you know?"
Grissom shook his head quickly. "No. But I suspected, with the reactions she exhibited during other cases." Grissom rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to decide how best to deal with Sara and the position she'd placed him in with Catherine and Ecklie. "Greg, when she wakes up, tell her that I came by and that I'm going to go to bat for her with Ecklie. I'll protect her, but only as long as she seeks counseling with her PEAP counselor again."
"Deal. Don't worry; she'll go, even if I have to drive her there myself and wait outside for her."
"You're a good friend to her, Greg. Better than I've been able to be." Grissom commented in a rare moment of openness.
"It's not easy, but it's well worth it," Greg replied with a smile.
Grissom squeezed Greg's shoulder briefly in support, and then silently left the bathroom, pausing for a moment to look at Sara, still fast asleep on the couch. He turned back to look at Greg, standing in the bathroom doorway. He nodded to the younger man, then quietly left Sara's apartment, making sure the door made no noise as he closed it behind him. As he walked down the hallway to the stairs, Grissom sighed, feeling the chance he may have once had with Sara leave with his breath. He knew that now, no matter what he felt for her, no matter what he decided he wanted to do about "this" between them, Greg would be standing in his way, protecting her, fighting for her. A few years ago he knew that Sara would have chosen him, hands down, but now? He'd carefully observed his two co-workers over the past six months as he'd placed Greg's training in Sara's hands, and had watched as their relationship and their interactions had shifted. Now, he wasn't so sure he was the favorite, wasn't so sure Sara would be so quick to pick him. Grieving briefly for chances lost, Grissom did take comfort in the knowledge that if Sara did indeed pick Greg, that Greg would most definitely treat her right and not hurt her over and over, as he had done.
Catherine Willows and Conrad Ecklie sat in Ecklie's office under the guise of going over a report, when in fact, they were discussing the situation with Sara and how they believed it should be taken care of. Once, Catherine might have brought her recommendations to Grissom himself, but those times were long gone. She had first hand knowledge of how much the enigmatic entomologist cared for the younger woman, and knew that no matter what she told him, he would end up protecting the younger woman, even if it hurt the lab or his career. Grissom couldn't risk being with Sara, but he also couldn't let her go.
Grissom walked into the office and without preamble said, "You wanted to talk to me about Sara?"
"Yes, Gil, we did. Why don't you sit down," Ecklie offered a chair.
"No thanks. I'd rather stand. This won't take long," Grissom said stiffly. "I'm not going to fire her."
"Well, then, what are you going to do?" Ecklie asked.
"I've already taken care of it," Grissom answered quickly. "Now, if there's nothing else…"
"How did you 'take care of it'" Catherine asked, speaking up for the first time, peering at Grissom over the rim of her black reading glasses.
"That's none of your business," Grissom shot back, almost angrily. "I'm her supervisor. I've handled it. She'll take her suspension and be back in a week."
"Listen, Gil," Ecklie said sharply. "I know how much you've protected and covered for her in the past. I've seen her file, the complaints against her, mainly for her attitude problem. She shows a blatant disregard for authority, especially mine, and now Catherine's. She's a loose cannon and a potential liability to this lab."
"No, you listen, Conrad," Grissom answered back forcefully. "She's a great criminalist, and since you've broken up my team, I need her more than ever. Her behavior is my fault. I wasn't paying enough attention, wasn't an attentive supervisor and therefore failed to recognize the situation for what it was until it was too late. That's now going to change, and there shouldn't be any more problems."
"Fine," Ecklie said with finality. "If that's the way you want it, she's all yours. I take no more responsibility for Sidle whatsoever." With that statement, Ecklie stood up and left his office, leaving a very irate Catherine to stare down a stoic Grissom.
"Gil," Catherine began, reigning in her anger, "I know you have feelings for Sara…"
"Which has nothing to do with my decision," Grissom interrupted. "I did for Sara what I've done for everyone else who was on graveyard with me in the past; I jumped in front of a moving bus to protect you and your careers. What makes Sara so different from you that she doesn't deserve the same type of fight from me?"
Seeing Grissom's point, Catherine conceded the argument and nodded her head. "Nothing. She deserves just as much from you as the rest of us. But, Gil, be careful here. Sara has a problem and it's only gotten worse the longer I've known her."
After a few tense, silent moments, Grissom said, "You know, I once told Sara, after she recommended to me that I fire Warrick over his alleged gambling, that she didn't see the whole picture, but that I did. I'm now saying the same thing to you. You don't have all the facts in this case, Catherine. I'm well aware of what's going on with Sara, and as I said earlier, it's being taken care of." He turned and began to leave the office, then paused at the doorway and said over his shoulder, "For now, I think it best if you and Sara don't work together. If you need help, I'll help, or give you Sofia, but Sara and Greg are off limits to you."
"What's wrong with Greg?" Catherine asked, knitting her eyebrows in bewilderment.
"I'm afraid that if I let Greg work with you right now, I'll have two suspended CSIs on my shift." Leaving those words hanging in the air, Grissom left Catherine alone to ponder his last words.
As soon as Grissom had left, Greg quietly crept back over to the couch and knelt down by Sara's head, a frown on his face. He reached out with one hand to gently caress her cheek, but pulled back at the last second; afraid any touch would wake her. He stared at her, content enough to just be near her. His friend was hurting, that much was clear from her earlier behavior towards Catherine and Ecklie. However, Greg had had no idea how much she was hurting, until she'd told him her story. It wasn't the complete story, he figured, but enough to explain a lot about her. Obviously, she hadn't told many people about her past, afraid of the pity, or the weirdness with which people would react toward her. He could understand that, certainly, but what he didn't understand was why, after almost five years with them in Vegas, she still hadn't told anyone. And then it hit him; she had just told him. Before Nick and Warrick. Before Grissom, even. She trusted him above all others. Her trust and faith in him humbled him a bit, and his frown transformed to a smile. He cautiously leaned over Sara, half afraid she'd wake up and smack him for what he was about to do, but he did it anyway. He kissed her forehead softly. When he leaned back, he stared right into her open eyes. And gulped.
"Hey," Sara said softly, smiling at him. "You're still here."
"Uh, yeah," Greg said carefully, awaiting the verbal reprimand and/or the smack. "I uh, didn't want to, ah, leave you alone. I didn't want you to, um, think that I… that I didn't care."
Sara reached out and cupped his cheek gently. "Thank, Greg. That means a lot to me, especially right now."
Realizing that Sara wasn't going to hit him or verbally assault him for being so blasé and kissing her on her forehead, Greg returned her smile and took her hand in his, squeezing it in support. "I'm not going anywhere, Sara. You're stuck with me, your own personal Greg, only $29.95 plus tax."
"Hmmmm," Sara said teasingly. "My own, personal Greg. Whatever will I do with him?"
Greg raised his eyebrows up and down, a la Groucho Marx, and said, "I can think of some things I'd like for you to do to me."
"You're incorrigible," Sara commented, sitting up and smiling brightly, tugging on his hand.
Taking that as a cue to sit next to her, Greg plopped down on the couch as close to Sara as he could get and put his arm around her, squeezing her body against his. "But you love me anyway, right?" he asked, batting his eyelashes and plastering on an exaggerated pout.
Sara laughed then and ran her hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, messing it up even more than it already was. "I wouldn't have you any other way, Greg."
"Ah, so you do want me! I knew it! No woman can resist the Sanders Charm!" Greg shouted happily, making a fist and pumping it into the air.
Sara just smiled brightly again and shook her head in acceptance and resignation. Greg was Greg, and he wasn't going to change around her, even after what she'd revealed to him. He was still acting silly and flirting with her, and that small action on his part went a long was towards making Sara feel comfortable with herself and her dark past. She'd finally told someone, someone she so desperately hoped she could trust, and he hadn't disappointed her. He'd held her and let her cry it out, comforted her enough so that she could fall asleep, had stuck around until she had woken up, and was now treating her just as he did before. And the best part was, he was being so natural about it, he wasn't pretending just so that her feelings weren't hurt. He really was the same with her. She had made the right decision in telling Greg about her past.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed by her revelation, Sara glanced at her watch and gasped. "I slept for five hours straight?"
"No," Greg said, "We slept for five hours straight. Or you did and I almost did. I was woken up by someone coming by to see you maybe fifteen minutes ago."
"Who?" Sara asked.
"Grissom," Greg said slowly. "He wanted to know what had happened, why you got so angry and yelled at Catherine and Ecklie."
"You guys let me sleep?"
"Yeah. You looked so beaut…uh, peaceful," Greg stumbled, blushing. "We figured you needed the sleep more than a lecture from Gris. But, uh, he did ask me if I knew what was going on with you."
"What did you tell him?" Sara asked softly, looking away from Greg's flashing brown eyes and staring at her feet in fear. Maybe she'd been wrong to trust Greg; maybe he told her secret, betrayed her. She felt the fear creeping up into the pit of her stomach, and she began to feel nauseous. Thoughts of how the truth of her past would spread through the crime lab faster than the rumors about Warrick and Catherine sprang into her mind, and she was so focused on them that she almost missed what Greg said next.
"Not the specifics, no. I wouldn't betray you like that, Sara," Greg informed her gently, running his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
"But you did tell him something," Sara stated in a shaky voice.
"Yeah," Greg admitted, lowering his head a little to try and catch her gaze. However, she refused to look at him. "He needed to know something, anything, to justify his going back to Ecklie and defending you. A reason to protect you and let you keep your job."
"And what…what did you say?" she asked, her voice going from shaky to squeaky, taking on a panicky lilt.
"I told him that you had first hand knowledge about domestic violence. But I didn't say anything more than that, Sara, I swear," Greg said quickly, voice rising a little. He was afraid now, afraid that Sara was going to push him away after what he'd told Grissom. She still hadn't looked at him, and that was not a good sign.
Sara let out a deep breath that she didn't even know she'd been holding, relief washing over her. She ran her hands through her dark hair, breathing in and out, trying to calm herself down from her near panic episode. He hadn't betrayed her. He'd said just enough to help her and to help Grissom protect her, but he had not broken her confidence. She nodded her head and was about to say something to put Greg's fears to rest when Greg rushed ahead and continued his explanation.
"I couldn't lose you, Sara, so I told Grissom that. Anything after that he put together on his own. I don't think he knows the truth about your parents, but he said that he suspected you knew about abuse because of your previous reactions in other cases…"
"It's okay, Greg," Sara interrupted him. "It's okay."
"Please don't be mad at me, Sara, I just couldn't let him fire you, I can't lose you and …"
"Greg!" Sara said forcefully, taking his head in her hands and looking directly into his troubled eyes in an attempt to calm the increasingly hysterical ex-lab rat turned field mouse. He was so upset, so afraid that he'd messed up and ruined everything that he was practically hyperventilating. Sara knew she had to reassure him, calm him down, or he'd be in worse condition than she was. "It's okay. You did the right thing in telling Grissom that. I'm not mad at you." She was careful to enunciate each word so that he would clearly hear what she was telling him.
"I…I did?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yes. You're doing all you can to help me. I really appreciate that," she assured him as calmly as she could.
"You promise you're not mad at me?"
Sara nodded, noting that his breathing had returned to normal, and his eyes looked less wild with fear. "I promise. And even if I was, you know I can't stay mad at you for more than a few minutes anyway," she said, pulling Greg into a hug.
"Ha! The Sanders Charm strikes again." He tightened his arms around Sara pulling her even closer against him, rubbing her back soothingly with one of his hands. The other cupped the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. He held her close for a few moments, and then groaned. "I really, really, really, just want to stay here, but I hafta go home and shower and change before shift starts."
Sara sniffed him and made a face. "I wasn't going to say anything, since you've been so good to me and all, but…"
"Ha ha, very funny," Greg said wryly, pulling away from her, but continuing to touch her with his hands by placing them on her sides just above her hips. "Maybe I could call in sick…"
"No, you should go to work. I'll be okay," Sara said, trying to sound convincing.
"Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk?" Greg pressed, not at all convinced. When Sara nodded her assent, Greg heaved himself up off the couch and made his way to the door. He opened it, but didn't step out right away, instead turning to face his friend once again. "Can I, um, can I come back and take you out to breakfast after shift?" he asked quickly, nervously, his face blushing red.
"I'd like that," Sara replied with a smile. Then she narrowed her eyes and raised her finger at him. "And don't you dare make some corny joke about the third time being the Sanders Charm."
"Why would I? You just made it for me," he pointed out with a goofy grin all over his face. Dodging a throw pillow, Greg ducked out the door still wearing that goofy grin. He finally had a true date with Sara Sidle.
tbc