Note: stuck.
He stayed, and left the next morning.
He would continue staying the night for four out of seven nights a week, for the next three weeks. He would wake up, kiss her on the forehead, put his clothes on. She would give him a sad smile most days. Sometimes, they would make love before he left, after which, they would spend a while cuddling, talking, laughing, like any other couple. She would cling on to him just that much longer on those mornings. He would then kiss her softly on the lips, whisper a 'See you at work', and then leave. He would lock her door with the spare key she gave him after the third night he stayed over. He would absentmindedly play with that key all the way to his car. He would then drive back home in silence, with enough time to spare for a shower, a quick breakfast and a shift in personality. In less than two hours, he needed to be Greg the CSI and co-worker, not Greg the lover who stayed the night with his married colleague.
On the drive to his home and to work, he would grip the steering wheel too hard and crank the volume on whichever head-banging rock CD he had in his car too loud.
She, on the other hand, thought it would get easier as the days went by, to see him go, closing the door softly behind him, using the key she had given him after the third night. She would watch him leave her room, leave her naked, wrapped only in sheets drenched in his scent mingled with hers, the remnants of their sex. He always woke up before she did. Some days, she would pull him back to her side, forcing him to stay longer than he should. She loved those days. It made their..thing..feel less like an affair, more like a real relationship. She would then think back and wonder, when it was that her need had shifted from sex to companionship to Greg.
She had given him a spare key.
With that thought, she would rouse herself out of bed, into the shower. She would emerge from the shower as Sara Sidle, CSI, co-worker and former mentor to Greg Sanders, married to Gil Grissom. She would drive to work in complete silence.
They would meet in the crime lab, each arriving separately in different cars at different times, with Greg always arriving later than her. She would exchange pleasantries with her colleagues, talk to Nick if he was there early. Sometimes she would find Ray instead, and would make small talk with the enigmatic man. If she was working on an ongoing case, she would pour herself a cup of coffee, and delve straight into work. Otherwise, she would pour herself a cup of coffee, sit in the break room with either a journal or the newspaper, talking to whoever else was there while waiting for assignments.
She would grip her coffee cup tighter when she hears his quick footsteps heading towards the break room. She knew his routine by heart. Drop in the break room for coffee, black, no sugar. Hang around and chat in the break room, usually with Nick, Henry or Hodges while sipping his drink. Finish it before it gets tepid, wash the cup. Carry on his conversations with the boys till it was officially time for work before starting on his on-going cases. He used to take off his suit jacket before heading to work, but seemed to have shed that habit around the time she was gone from his life.
She found it ironic that he used to comment on Brass always being in a suit. For he never seemed to wear anything else but nowadays. Well, without the tie, of course. She remembered his first court case, his first suit-and-tie. He felt like a dork. She thought he looked..professional. Adorable, really. Now, she looked forward to him coming in for work, quietly debonair in his suit jacket and shirt. Seeing him with that much clothes on fascinated her. They spent so much of their time together alone, skin on skin that this new, suited-up, fully-clothed Greg became more of a delicious mystery. Here he was, casually flirting with the female techs, animatedly talking about sports and girls with his male colleagues. He in his suit, all for the world to see, hiding the scratches, bites and other marks of their affair. Cloaking their new relationship with the attire of the consummate professional, the air of the friendly charmer. It was clear as the proverbial crystal to her what she saw when she bumped into him one day in PD with Catherine and Brass, surrounded by police officers, clerks, complainants, suspects, criminals and other riff-raffs.
Despite their silent, non-confession of..of needing each other..this public Greg in the suit will never be hers.
