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A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews and I apologize, again, for the delay between updates. There's been... a lot to deal with, lately. I know that I'm far less likely to review when updates are slower, just because you lose momentum, so I just want to let you all know how much I appreciate each and every review I do get. Thank you, thank you. I can't tell you how wonderful I feel about my readers. 3

Enjoy! (And Go Twins!)

Chapter Four:

The disappointment I saw in Dr. Grissom's eyes that day was enough to guarantee that I wouldn't be staying late for drinks on school nights anymore. There was a part of me that wanted to snort with disgust and toss my hair and tell him—mentally, of course—to go fuck himself if he was going to judge me with those eyes of his.

But first and foremost, I was a brain. Then a body, then a heart, and finally, if such a thing existed, a soul… but my intelligence made me who I was, even if I didn't always listen to my faculties in their correct order. When I wanted something bad enough, I slowed myself down and made sure I did. Listen, that is. In order.

I wanted Dr. Grissom more than I wanted the next desperate, fleeting, gasp of air in my lungs.

So my brain told me that a snotty "Eff You" from the eighteen year old he had hardly noticed would be ineffectual. And it might ruin my chances with the man indefinitely. So I stayed quiet, let myself out of the classroom on Friday with as little attention drawn to myself as possible, and spent my few hours before working thinking this thing out. …A man who didn't give a shit about me didn't waste his time or effort looking sad and disappointed that I'd come in sweating Jose Cuervo. I realized with a jolt of surprise that the attention he'd paid me on Friday had been… not excessive, but abundant, compared to the other days of class.

This was the first moment in which I realized Dr. Grissom was going to be difficult to seduce beyond simply getting him to want me—because he was surprisingly hard to read. I stood out to him, to some extent—he had an opinion of me, otherwise how could I have failed to live up to his expectations or, if he didn't have those yet, his hopes? And yet it had taken me this long to even become aware of it… I had never in my life been happier to disappoint a teacher. And though I had Saturday night off, I made an excuse about awful cramps that I knew Anni wouldn't buy because our cycles were only about a day off each other and stayed home. It was the first time I'd made the choice not to go out on a night I wasn't working and didn't have school the next day.

Instead, I put my considerable efforts into analyzing Dr. Grissom. He was very closed, very controlled, but he had let it slip that he had noticed me—I had affected him in some way. Which meant that I was doing something right, but clearly not everything. It also meant that the man was… probably wary of me. Even if he wasn't, he was intensely private. So this whole thing would not be the result of a few study sessions and the occasional, "accidental" peek up a short skirt. No, the man was… so much more professional than that. More complicated than my previous professors. I was willing to bet he'd never slept with a student before, so that would be something I would have to help him overcome…

I remembered, too, the way he lit up that first day, talking about his subject. He never failed to look excited, but he hadn't looked quite so rapturous since that day… and I wanted to pull the man out, a little. Test his boundaries, once he'd let me in. I wanted to show him that he could glow like that all the time. I wanted to see him glow—make him glow. I wanted him to lose control, just a little.

I stuck to my moderate clothing—if my shirt was low-cut, then I wore pants. If my skirt was short, I made sure my chest was covered. And I cut out anything that Anni would have called acceptable for a night out on the town. And I all but ignored Dr. Grissom, the first week after my hangover. I answered questions, of course, although I realized that the way I had been doing so previously might have been a touch on the arrogant side, and tried to be a little more demure. I didn't stay after class, I always had something to do in the time I spent there early—I didn't want to change my schedule and tip him off that I was changing lots of things—so that he would not feel like I was there for him, and I kept my eyes away from him as much as possible.

This was surprisingly difficult—despite the façade of boring and bookish, I had come to realize that he was hiding more than you'd expect under those conservative button-ups and ties. Careful, discrete, observation had told me that he had broad, muscled shoulders, well-shaped but not bulky arms, and a chest that was probably begging to have a tongue dragged across it. I didn't speculate about what I would find beneath his waist, however—not because I wasn't curious, but because I had always enjoyed surprises. Growing up, my brother always searched for presents ahead of time… but not me. I didn't even want to guess—the surprise was better than the gift itself, unless you speculated… because that opened up room for disappointment.

I expected that, after a week of being treated indifferently, Dr. Grissom would be a little more receptive to finding me an excited student who wanted as much supplemental knowledge as possible. My plan was to be on my way out, that Monday, and suddenly "remember" a question I had wanted to ask during the lecture and forgotten… and let it lead into a broader conversation, if possible.

If it didn't lead there, however, I wouldn't force it. Something else I realized about Dr. Grissom—he wasn't a man who appreciated women throwing themselves at him, which implied, beyond his gentlemanly leanings, that he enjoyed the chase. I had to at least let him feel like he was pursuing me, even when he didn't want to let himself pursue me.

However, that Monday, things occurred… differently.

Dr. Felton was creepy, as usual, but that was the norm. Surprisingly, my problems did not come from him… they came from my T.A. in my Organic Chem class. Apparently, the syllabus had said that there was no class today. He was waiting in the classroom to remind anyone who showed up… but I was the only one. I turned to leave, once Ken told me, but he stopped me… and his, uh, proposition might have been the most insulting thing I'd ever heard.

"Wait. Sara. …It is Sara, right?"

I quirked a smile—from a love interest that would be insulting, but from him it was all but meaningless. "Right. What's up?"

"Listen, since you've got an unexpected free hour… D'you wanna grab a cup of coffee?"

"Oh… You know, I was actually thinking I'd use the time to pick up a couple books from the library I need. I have a paper coming up in my Forensics class and…"

"I'll go with you." He volunteered, which seemed strange to me. At my narrowed eyes, he continued. "Or, you know… I mean, you could do that anytime. Let's head over to the Union."

I frowned. I really hated when guys were overly insistent. "No thanks. I'm just… not really interested, Ken." And I turned to head to the door at the bottom of the lecture bowl, just behind him. He moved in front of me, blocking my path.

"We hit it off, the first day of class…"

I frowned, making the effort to sidestep him several times, despite knowing exactly how that would go down—we both shuffled awkwardly right and left and while I frowned more deeply, he seemed to become more and more amused. "We had a conversation. I still have the right to tell you to fuck off."

His eyes flashed and I foolishly tried to push past him, which only gave him the opportunity to catch my upper arms in his hands and press me against the wall beside the door. "The way I hear it, you don't really tell anyone to fuck off, do you? If you don't want coffee, there's a storage closet down the hall…"

I kneed him in the balls, hard, just as someone to my left said, "Ken!" in a shocked and angry voice. I turned my head, seeing Dr. Anderson and Dr. Grissom both hovering in the doorway. I wondered vaguely how much they'd heard, knowing that the other door, fifteen feet to my right, was open. Sounds carried quite well out these doors and into the hallway beyond when they weren't closed. I was blushing, but gathered myself together rather quickly, stepping over the groaning form on the floor in front of me.

"That's… assault…" croaked the prone T.A. and despite having the very pronounced urge to kick him while he was down, I turned my frantic eyes to Dr. Anderson instead. This was… not entirely uncalculated. My first instinct was to look to Dr. Anderson for protection, but I have to admit that a part of my brain told me to avoid Dr. Grissom's eye line altogether, to keep up the deception. Dr. Anderson stepped forward, slipping a fatherly arm around my shoulders, disregarding Ken entirely.

"Come on, Sara… We were just headed to my office."

And so I walked, pressed to the side of my physics teacher, accompanied by a guest lecturer in the biology and anthropology departments, out of the chemistry building. I wondered, vaguely, why the two of them had been in the building at all, much less together, but I thought that was maybe something I didn't have the right to ask. I mean, I could ask Dr. Anderson anything, but I was still trying to be very precise with Dr. Grissom. I didn't want to overstep some boundary. Though the three of us walked together, it was in silence until we were in Dr. Anderson's office and Dr. Grissom had shut the door behind us.

Anderson let me go then, moving to his coffeemaker and pouring me a cup that was already made without asking—the man knew me well. "Here you go… I'd offer you something stronger, but I guess you're a little young for it, huh?" He teased gently, and I noticed Dr. Grissom raise an eyebrow. I knew we were both thinking of the Friday in which he'd looked so let down—a day I was coming very close to permanently labeling as the incident—and I drank deeply rather than responding with anything more than a "Mmm…"

He moved behind his desk, giving me space he seemed to think I needed, and I slid into a chair I had literally spent hours upon hours in. It sounds strange, but I could spend hours just talking to Dr. Anderson. About anything and everything under the sun. Dr. Grissom slowly slid into the other seat before the man's desk, and with a certain amount of surprise I realized that we were in closer proximity than perhaps we'd ever been. Fighting back the urge to let my knee rub against his innocently, I instead moved my legs to one side, to avoid the contact altogether. And the flicker in his eyes, visible in my periphery, told me that he was a little surprised.

I had spent the entire past week—in which I had been backing off a little, to put him at ease—cataloguing his reactions and his emotional cues. I thought I had a pretty good read on him, thus far… and if I had to guess, I would say that him being surprised by me moving my legs indicated more than I wanted it to—he had already suspected me of being interested in him. …It was good, then, that I'd slowed down and backed off… but I would need to approach this cautiously.

I was not, by nature, a cautious person. I was impulsive. I was much better at slipping up onto a teacher's desk, legs parted enough to be inviting without seeming whorish, and asking him how he was ever going to help me understand… Insert smutty reference to whatever subject the teacher in question taught. Sometimes those were difficult, but my anatomy teacher had been so easy that I often made him laugh by coming up with new things he needed to "teach" me while we lay entangled in afterglow. Well… his afterglow. For a man who taught what he did, you would think he would have been a little more knowledgeable about the female body but… well, you couldn't expect them all to be amazing.

But with Dr. Grissom, a lot more tact was necessary. He would not appreciate me asking him to help me understand how the ALS could detect when two people had been in a place or… making some comment about not tearing his head off, after, like the praying mantis. …God, entomology and forensics were hard. Biology though, that was easy. Maybe, if I got the chance, I would appeal to his broader area of expertise…

Anderson sighed. "Do you want to press charges, honey?"

I looked up to him in surprise. It wasn't that Dr. Anderson was never affectionate, but pet names were… strange. It didn't feel creepy—it still felt very paternal and protective—but I wondered if Dr. Grissom was interpreting it that way. Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I… I'll talk to him. I won't charge him if he doesn't charge me—tit for tat."

"I'll talk to him." Dr. Grissom stepped in before Anderson could argue at all. I blinked in surprise, meeting his gaze fully for the first time all day. ...Hell, probably for the first time in over a week. The way the blue in his eyes seared through me…

"Thank you Gil." Anderson murmured quietly, and I mulled that name over in my head a little. Gil? As part of his title, it sounded natural: Dr. Gil Grissom. But on its own… it struck me as simultaneously intimately sensual and strangely… archaic. Was anyone really named 'Gilbert' anymore? I found myself wrinkling my nose a little and smirking, and a bemused smile lit his face up too—belatedly, I realized it was in response to my smirk. He had thought I was smiling at him rather that about him. But still, he'd returned it, hadn't he?

Dr. Anderson cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Sara, have you met Dr. Grissom? He's the guest professor everyone has been so excited about…" The older man gazed affectionately at Dr. Grissom and I felt a surge of… jealousy, maybe? I didn't want Dr. Anderson to look that dotingly on anyone but me. I frowned, glancing at him out of the side of my eyes, realizing for perhaps the first time that he was closer to my age than Anderson's.

"We've met." I said, a little shortly, and I saw the surprise on my professor's face at my tone. He frowned a little too and cleared his throat.

"We uh… Sara's in my Intro to Forensics class…"

"Oh, that's right! You were so excited about that! How's it going?" Anderson asks, looking at me—and under his steady, reassuring gaze, I realize that affection for the young teacher doesn't really compare with the almost-paternal way he sees me. I relax a little, and offer a smile.

"It's pretty good. Slow, you know, but that's what you have to expect from an Intro class…" I admit it, I was being a little… mean. Part of it was to assure myself of my position in Dr. Anderson's book. I was the brilliant student and, brilliant guest professor though he may be, Dr. Grissom was still the teacher who wasn't managing to challenge me. The flash in his eyes at my words told me my message had gotten across. Another part of me was trying to provoke him, a little. I wasn't sure what had happened, but all of a sudden he was gifting me with the full weight of his gaze, something he hadn't done much of since I'd met him. And I wanted to keep it.

Maybe I did need to play a little hard to get… hot and cold… It had given me the most lingering response, other than the incident.

I drank deeply from my cup while Anderson and Grissom then took up talking about the class in question, apparently assuming that it was natural that I would need some time after Ken. I didn't correct them, but I was solicited often enough at the bar for the whole Ken thing to be merely a minor irritation. I let their words slip around me, analyzing what had just happened and trying to predict how this would change our interactions… how I would have to modify my future actions in regard to this. I didn't come back to the conversation until I heard my name.

"Sara? …Sara!"

I blinked in surprise and looked at Dr. Anderson. "…I'm sorry. I was somewhere else. What were you saying?"

He chuckled and repeated himself. "I was telling you that Dr. Grissom and I were just over in the Chemistry building discussing an interdisciplinary science seminar being held in a couple of weeks… open to the community, featuring speakers from every science department…"

"Oh." I said, not certain what response he was waiting for. He gave me a wry smile.

"And I was saying that you would really enjoy it and should try to make it. Will you be working?"

"Oh!" I said, with more comprehension. "I, um… I'm not sure. Even if I am, though, I can convince Eddie to let me come in late if I have some notice…"

"Great." Anderson responded, and then glanced at his watch. "Oh! We'd better get down to the lecture bowl." He stood up, picking his suit jacket up from the back of his chair and slipping into it. I picked up my book bag and set the empty coffee mug over by his coffeemaker, and then stepped outside the door while both men followed me out. I watched at Dr. Anderson locked his door and then expected he and Dr. Grissom to take their leaves of each other… Dr. Grissom heading towards his building and Anderson and I heading down to class… but instead, they both headed in the direction of the lecture bowl as if this were entirely expected. I frowned, uncertain, and hurried to catch up to them.

Was Dr. Grissom coming to class with us?

They both stepped through the doors ahead of me and over to the front, without offering any explanation and, frowning, I was left to find my usual seat, front and center. …Apparently, Dr. Grissom was coming to class with us.