Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: So I struggled with this chapter for forever. I realize that it's massive, and I could have broken it in two, but by the time I realized that that made more sense, I was basically half-way through what would have been chapter thirteen, so I just finished. If it doesn't suck, it's because I got some amazing help from Pati, who became a sort of impromptu beta for this chapter :). Also, my intention was to have it up on Friday night... it didn't happen. On the bright side, I bought a wedding dress on Saturday! :D (Sorry. I had to share.)

Hope you guys enjoy. Thanks, as always, for being the most amazing readers in the world. :)

Chapter Twelve:

Anni wasn't speaking to me. She was sitting with the group, at the usual table, acting like everything was fine… but it wasn't. She didn't meet my eyes, she didn't greet me separately, and she didn't give me the smile that lured everyone she met to her with that unmistakable gravity-like force. She ordered her drink from me like I was just any waitress, and I was tempted to ask her for an ID if she was going to act like that, but we were in front of everyone, and I didn't want to call attention to the problem.

I tried to figure out what exactly I might have done to upset her. It was Friday night, and I hadn't seen her since… Wednesday night? Thursday I'd woken up before her and gone to school, where she'd already been when I returned home, and then I'd gone to the seminar before she'd come back. Dr. Grissom had given me a ride home, and Anni hadn't come home that night. So on Thursday, after I left, she must have taken her stuff and gone to sleep at Todd's. Had I upset her on Thursday, or had I said something to bother her on Wednesday and she'd simply not been mad enough to sleep somewhere else immediately after it happened? Anni was sometimes like that—the longer she was upset about something, the bigger the issue became in her mind.

But I didn't really have the time to confront her—it was busy. Friday nights were, as you might expect, busier than regular week nights, but this bar wasn't exactly a happening place for young people. We had our regulars—people who lived or worked nearby—and we had the occasional group come in, at the youngest in their late twenties or early thirties, but usually older than that. Middle aged couples and collections of coworkers—professionals, who appreciated the old-world appeal of the ancient brick wall and the creaking wooden sign outside and the shiny, real hardwood bar that was Eddie's pride and joy. But this was more than the usual busy—from the sounds of some of the conversations I'd overheard among one large group in my section, there was some kind of convention in town and the local attendees had suggested to the larger group that they come here.

Size-wise, that was fine—we were a large place—but staff-wise, it wasn't. My section was massive, because normally that would still even out to about five tables. Right now I was pulling about fifteen large groups, wishing people would leave and that just one of the girls Eddie was trying to call in would agree to come help us. Or that he'd switch with me for just fifteen minutes so I could mix drinks instead of running between the bar and the tables. It wasn't exactly legal, and I would still be running around… but not as much. It would feel like a break, because right now I was certain that I was sweating and I could feel the pink heat along my cheekbones that told me just how heated I was getting.

I slid up to the bar and called my order to Eddie—scotch on the rocks for a regular in the corner, five fuzzy navels for a table full of women in business suits, and a round of beers for my friends in back. He nodded that he'd gotten it all while he finished serving the couple in front of him and I took off to go take the order of two other young guys—probably college age… young enough that I carded them—who wanted a pitcher. I gave them my best smile and swung my hips as I moved away, hoping for a good tip, and slid up to the bar just as Eddie was setting the women's drinks up on the bar top. I added the pitcher to his list and disappeared again, placing the glasses carefully in front of the women and offering them my most disarming smile; they were all in their early thirties and I could easily be seen as a threat or as a snotty little teenager. It was so busy tonight that if I didn't walk away with several hundred in tips, I might just quit.

Back to the bar in time to pick up the pitcher and the scotch, and finally again to take the bottles which had been resting there, dripping condensation, up to my friends. I was feeling rather harassed and short tempered by the time I made it through the crowds and up to my group to pass out the bottles. I received cheers and laughter and a couple lewd comments tossed out through smirking lips while they tossed money at me, tipping as generously as you can expect from college students, which would have cheered me up immensely if Anni hadn't still been carefully avoiding my gaze. I wanted to roll my eyes and call her out—tell her that whatever I'd done, she just needed to get over… but I wasn't sure that I hadn't done anything. Anni didn't usually pick petty fights in front of other people.

It was the most hectic twenty minutes of my life until Carol arrived. She was a middle-aged woman who hadn't worked in several weeks because she was babysitting her grandchildren at night during the school year—her daughter was at Boston Bay and worked nights to pay for it— and had apparently left the kids with her husband in order to come in and help us out. I almost cried with relief when she slipped behind the counter and Eddie directed her over to me. She took half my section and before all the pink could recede from my cheeks, several groups were rising to head home. Eddie motioned me over and told me to take a break while I had the chance. A glance at the clock told me that it was just after eleven and that if I wanted any food, I needed to get my order in while it was slow. If we picked up again around midnight, which was common—though not in such numbers—I'd never eat.

I threw my apron behind the counter and rushed into the back, ordering myself everything I could think of—God, I was hungry—Nachos and a slice of pizza and mozzarella sticks and a side order of fries. Larry, a guy in his mid-thirties who did the cooking on the weekends and always hit on me, grinned at the enormity of my order and promised he'd bring it out to me personally. With a grateful sigh, I hugged him, pulling away before he could grab my ass. I made a detour to grab myself a cold bottle of beer from behind the bar and then moved up to sit with my friends, plopping down in an empty space on the booth and exhaling loudly. "Somebody kill me."

Josh chuckled, throwing a well-sculpted arm around me. "And deny the world the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous heinie every day? …Never."

The table laughed, but I just rolled my eyes in exhaustion. "Oh, what do you care? You're gay." I accused, a little grumpily. He grinned devilishly.

"Well, that would make me uniquely qualified to judge, wouldn't it? I happen to be an ass expert." He wiggled his eyebrows, and even Anni laughed, though Todd didn't. He was newer to the group, and didn't seem to find the same joy in bucking the societal status quo that the rest of us did.

He cleared his throat, cutting the hilarity short. "Who's up for pool?"

There was a sort of mass exodus at that as Larry broke through the group to hand me my piles of food. He had hardly set the food down before I had a mozzarella stick in my mouth and the ketchup bottle in hand, hovering above my fries. …Which is why it took me so long to realize that everyone but Anni had accompanied our resident homophobe to find an empty pool table. I glanced up uncertainly, chewing and swallowing and then taking a long swig of my beer. Her eyes, deep and dark and blue, watched me intently, until I broke the silence.

"…I don't know what I did to upset you." It was a little abrupt, but I figured it was better than saying, 'What the hell is your problem?'

"You were off last night."

I blinked. "…And?" I shoved a pile of fries into my mouth.

She scoffed in irritation. "And you promised me that we'd go out, just us girls, on your next night off."

The nacho chip I had lifted half-way to my lips fell back onto the plate. "Oh, shit, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't have the night off, I had to rearrange my schedule to do this school thing…"

"You mean to do a teacher… thing." She raised thin, delicately arched brows and I saw the betrayal lining her perfectly made-up lips.

I swallowed and reached for a napkin, wiping off my hands and watching her, trying to think of something I could say to justify my mistake. I realized, belatedly, that she probably didn't truly want that. "I… There's no excuse. I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to blow you off."

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, but she was quirking a small smile. "Yeah, well… At least tell me the sex was good." She still looked and sounded a little grudging, but the worst had passed.

I snorted in exasperation. "Yeah, I wish."

She frowned and leaned forward, snatching a nacho as I pushed my plates towards the center of the table and took a swig of my beer. "What do you mean? He can't still be holding out…?" She asked in absolute disbelief, but I never got the chance to answer her. Eddie appeared at my elbow with a frown.

"You've got a cop eyeing you pretty closely. I'd ditch the bottle and spend the rest of your break out of sight…" He suggested in a low voice, leaning over me to hide my face from the scrutiny of the cop. With wide, surprised eyes—I was risking my scholarship with a minor—I lowered the bottle to my side, intending to sneak into the back with it held at my side. I'd wipe off DNA and fingerprints (blame Dr. Grissom for that paranoia) and toss it, and then camp out until he left. I glanced up at Eddie, my saving grace, and asked without having to voice the question which patron was the cop I would have to avoid.

He backed up a step and looked at the man, and I followed his gaze over to a figure seated at the bar. His shoulder-blades stood out against the back of his t-shirt, back broad across the top and slowly slimming into a smaller waist. He had curls on his head and seemed like he was in his early thirties—in fact, if this man had been seated in a classroom, wearing glasses and an awful brown jacket…

He turned his head, and the minute our eyes connected, my heart was hammering. Oh god. He was here. What did that mean? Had he come here on accident and just caught sight of me? Had he sought me out? What did I do now? I turned, catching Anni's eye. "That's him!" I whispered urgently, and her eyes got wide as she looked over more intently this time. My gaze turned immediately to Eddie, whose forehead was wrinkled in confusion. "How did you know he's a cop?" I asked, wondering what it meant that he'd obviously seen me drinking. …And piling greasy food into my mouth. Oh god.

"He pulled out his wallet to pay for his drink—he's got an ID in there next to his license with some sort of police emblem on it. Doesn't look like Boston, and he's got a Midwest accent, but you can't be sure… How do you know this guy?" His tone wasn't accusing so much as curious and concerned. I exhaled in a huff.

"He's my teacher." I turned to Anni. "…What do I do?"

A wide smile slid across her face and she laughed. "Oh, honey, you've got it bad… Go talk to him." Her voice was unexpectedly gentle, but maybe that was because my hands were shaking on the table in front of me. This was not the way I would have wanted him to come upon me at work. I could picture myself bent over to hand drinks to a table full of young guys eying me with enough lust in their eyes to provoke a jealous response from my impassive professor… but to be drinking cheap beer and shoving fried…everything...into my mouth like I had an unending appetite? I just wanted to die. She clucked her tongue and slid around the half-circle shaped booth so she could take my hand in hers and squeeze it. "Sara, look at me."

My face felt cold as I turned it to her. She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated, glancing up at Eddie. "We're okay—he's not going to turn you or Sara in." He blinked in surprise—Anni only spoke to him to tease him, usually accusing him of wanting to have his way with me— and then took the hint, heading back to the bar. Anni focused her eyes, heavy with eyeliner, on mine. "…That man came to this bar looking for you. He would not be here if it weren't for you. And he's sitting over there, watching you, waiting for you to notice that he's here. …There are more young and eligible women in this bar than any other night, probably since it opened, but he's watching you." I felt the set of my shoulders change a little and my head lift, hands stilling.

"…Yeah?"

She grinned. "Yes, Sara Sidle. And it's no wonder why—you are a sexy little vixen who has lured more than your share of professors to risk their careers and marriages just to have a chance to touch you... He may be younger than most of them and, I'll admit, far more attractive, but the fact of that matter is that he's still just one of many… one more man trailing behind you, waiting for the chance to kiss your feet." She waited a moment here, and I took a deep breath, taking her words in and letting them fill up my chest, letting the confidence take hold. "…Now, casually, I'm going to go back to my side, you're going to laugh and smile at me and continue eating… and if he doesn't come over within ten minutes, you can go to him. …Okay?"

I nodded, slowly, fighting the urge to toss my hair—despite it being pulled into a ponytail—filled to overflowing with her words. She slid away and I did as she said, fighting the overwhelming urge to check and see if he was coming. Ten minutes, of course, came and passed and I finally asked Anni—rather than turning around—if he was still sitting at the bar.

"Mmnhm!" She said, mouth full of the nachos I had pushed aside in favor of eating my pizza one minute bite at a time in order to seem unaffected. "He keeps looking over here and then looking away." This last part was spoken through chips and I felt a rush of affection—she especially liked to do that in front of her parents, who hadn't let her talk with her mouth full as a one year old.

I was doubting myself again, but with a resolute sigh, I straightened my shoulders and met her eyes before slipping out of the booth. I had some of my break yet, but Dr. Grissom didn't necessarily need to know that. I moved behind the bar without meeting his eyes and retrieved my apron, tying it around my waist and finally stepping up to him, hoping he hadn't noticed how long it took to tie the damn thing on because my hands had been shaking again.

"So… You come here often?" I murmured, leaning against the bar in front of him and offering a slow and what I hoped would be seductive smile. A grin flashed across his features and his eyes lit up, but he slid his teacher-face back into place a minute later. Regardless, my heart fluttered.

"I, uh… I don't know any bars in town, but I thought… You talk about this place all the time, and it sounded like it was more likely to have sports on than loud music so…"

I grinned and remained leaning on the bar, just barely invading his personal space. A glance upwards told me that the television was on some kind of sport—football maybe?—but that he didn't seem as interested as he ought to be. "Not your team playing? Lemme change it…"

I fished out the remote even as he shook his head, but when I arrived on another football game, he gave in and told me—"I'm a much bigger baseball fan than anything…" I changed it until it landed on the correct sport, and a glance at him told me that this was the game he'd been hoping to see; his gaze kept flickering between it and me. Men.

I pulled his glass towards me and took a sip, figuring that he'd already seen me drinking beer and that he was pushing boundaries by coming here in the first place, especially looking so… young. So god damned delicious. "Whiskey, huh? …Old fashioned." I licked my lips slowly and watched his eyes follow my tongue as lower jaw drop the tiniest bit, leaving his lips parted. "Jameson, not Daniel's… Cultured."

"I, uh… I'm… You're not twenty-one, are you?"

I pursed my lips in amusement and his eyes flashed again, the way they had when I'd first arrived… the way I was beginning to associate with his desire for me. "…Let me get you a refill… Dr. Grissom." He blinked several times, but simply watched while I refilled his glass and replaced it before him before heading off to relieve Carol. We weren't as busy now as before, but it was enough to keep me occupied through most of the night… yet he didn't attempt to steal my attention, he didn't seem like he was anxious to leave, and though he watched baseball and went through another glass of whiskey, I felt his eyes on me all the while.

I was off at one a.m. and the bar was open for another hour. I thought about having him come drink with the group, meet Anni… but it was a passing idea more than an actual plan; it would only emphasize the reasons why he was apparently holding back. So when my shift came to an end, I made a point to make sure all my friends had a fresh drink and took a minute to explain to Anni where I'd be going, if everything went well. Her wide grin and teasing smile told me that she'd put our argument in the past, and I was positively beaming when I slipped back behind the bar, clocked out, and then tossed my apron into the bucket containing dirty bar rags.

He was watching me.

I grinned and moved up to him again, leaning against the bar just a little closer. "So… you feel like taking a walk?" I asked, mostly because I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but I knew I didn't want to keep him here where people I knew might see us and comment—there would be no better way to make sure he felt uncomfortable about taking that final step. His smile was hesitant, but he nodded and stood, pulling out his wallet and laying down a few bucks for a tip for Eddie, who had talked baseball with him for a decent portion of the evening. He pulled a black leather jacket from the back of his chair and slid into it. It wasn't the big and gaudy kind I usually saw on Anni's beaux… the kind that would look natural at a biker rally. It was smooth and sleek and sexy and made him look wildly young and dangerous. I felt my body's immediate reaction take hold of me—quivering, impatient heat shooting straight through me, insistent. I blinked several times and then cleared my throat. "Let, uh…" I cleared it gain. "Let me grab my coat…"

He nodded, standing immobile, and so I nodded awkwardly and then checked myself, straightening my back and walking with a false confidence into the back to retrieve the cheap dark blue corduroy jacket that was my staple through the Boston winters. I slid it on back there so that he wouldn't see the torn lining and wrapped a colorful scarf around my neck to hide the smear of something—chocolate, probably—at the very front near the collar. He was still standing in more or less the same spot when I emerged, watching what looked like the same game he'd been watching earlier. Eddie had a fancy sports package for the bar, so I was never sure when a team was actually playing and when the game was being replayed. "Ready?"

He turned and smiled and as I approached. "Ready. ...You get off at this time every night?" We turned toward the door and his hand fell gently into the small of my back. I glanced at him, wondering what had gotten into him—this was not the shy, hesitant professor I knew. "When do you do any homework?"

I laughed. "An insomniac is not a person who needs more time on their hands…" He held the door open for me and I slipped past him, but he was at my side again almost immediately, hand reclaiming its spot. No, there was no way he'd done it twice without realizing. Dr. Grissom was putting the moves on me. This was finally happening.

After a moment I realized that he wasn't exactly sure what to say to that. …If this was happening, he needed some help. I bit my bottom lip just as we came to a stop on a street corner. "There's a park… a couple blocks this way." I pointed, and he nodded, and then we were headed in that direction. I cleared my throat. "So… big plans for the weekend?"

He offered me a placating smile. "Ah, no. Probably catch up on some reading… refine my lesson plans…"

I snorted and he gave me a look, half-amused, half-defensive, one hundred percent uncertain. I grinned. "…You don't need to refine your lesson plans. You're a young guy—you should be out on a Saturday night."

"…I came out on a Friday night." He said, a little formally, and I gave him the sweetest smile I could muster, stepping a little closer while we walked.

"…To see me?"

His cheeks turned a little red, but his lips quirked. "I'd be lying if I answered the way I ought to."

Surprisingly, I found myself blushing, and his eyes flashed again. This time, he shortened the space between us, but it was so small a move that I couldn't be entirely sure he knew he'd done it. The park was fast approaching, and the silence loomed between us, his last statement echoing. Did I ask him what he meant—force the obvious… Did I put him off by not responding, or would I bring him back to his sense by asking about it?

"…I miss seeing stars." He commented softly, and I felt my heart thud a little. My eyes slid to his, which were turned up. I followed them, and saw that it was actually quite a clear night.

"…Are you going blind?" I teased, uncertainly, and he smirked.

"No. I mean… for a city, this is pretty good. But in the rainforest… or way out on the ocean… it's like living on a different planet. …It makes you understand why ancient peoples based their entire existence on what they saw there."

And there, after several exceedingly painful minutes, the ice had been broken and we were speaking of something that somehow bridged the line between romantic and academic. I felt the familiar awe coursing through me as I watched him speak, and then I was going off, a mile a minute. "The rainforest? When did you go? Where did you go? Oh! I can't even imagine how much there is to learn there! God, that would just be amazing! Tell me about it, please? …Were you studying bugs? Were you studying wildlife? Oh! Did you see anything wild and… and… amazing?" I ended lamely, breathless and unable to think of any possible other adjective to describe my awe and excitement and what I imagined he must have seen.

He laughed softly, but his eyes weren't laughing—they were fixed tightly on me, a strange sort of conflict raging in them, and I suddenly became aware that my feet had left concrete and were now on the grass… that trees loomed overhead, blocking out those stars, and that we'd stopped walking. I wasn't sure when any of this had happened in my barrage of questioning, but I was aware that he was quite intentionally stepped towards me. I felt faint and panicky, my chest tight with anticipation, and when my back came into contact with the bark of a tree, I felt deliciously overpowered and… desired. God, he wanted me. He wasn't hiding it anymore. I gave myself over to the overwhelming feeling of acceptance and approval as soft and yet calloused hands slid from just above my elbows, over my shoulders and neck, to finally cup my cheeks and turn my face up to his.

There was a long, aching moment in which I was certain he was about to back out. I stopped breathing, stopped thinking, just sat suspended there, willing him to kiss me. To take me home with him tonight and use me any way he wanted me. And then he was moving, descending to my level—I let my eyes flutter closed and my lips part and I waited. I could feel the nanosecond when he came close enough to me that I could feel him there, even though he hadn't yet touched me—the way you can feel if someone is looking at your or the sense you have that you're not alone. It was primal and instinctual and I knew that if I puckered my lips they would encounter his, but I believed fervently that he needed to be the one to take the leap. He wouldn't own the action, not really, if he didn't. He might be moral and claim responsibility… but in his head, the action would always have started with me.

And then he was gone, stepping bodily away from me and my eyes were snapping open as a rush of disappointment swept through me with unbelievable power. "Sara, I… I'm really sorry. I don't… I don't know what came over me. I… You're… I'm sorry. I know you're a student and that this is… so inappropriate. I…" He looked at me helplessly, at a loss for words, and I sighed under my breath.

"It isn't inappropriate."

"I… what?" He blinked several times, eyeing me with confusion.

I shook my head, stepping closer to him. "…If you'd just met me in the bar a few weeks ago, instead of in your class… would you still have wanted to kiss me?"

"I… Well, I—It's completely different. You're a student and you're… you're young and—"

I slowly slipped into her personal space, speaking so that my breath fell across his lips. "I'm not so young. I'm… old enough to be legal." He shivered and I moved until my face was beside his, my breath against his ear this time. "And it's a valid point. …A kiss would only be… inappropriate… if the basis of my appeal is that I'm your student. If it's about me… then I don't see the problem. I would never expect my grades to change… never expect special treatment. …If it's just about me, then this is all just… biology."

He shuddered and shook his head, trying valiantly to resist, but I could tell that the whiskey he'd finished off before we left the bar was starting to ebb into his thoughts, making arguing with me just a little more difficult. "I… No, it's not just… biology. It's… nothing is that simple…"

I licked the lobe of his ear and then bit it gently, and the shuddering groan that broke from his lips was absolute music to my ears. I had my hands moving from his shoulders up into his curls, pulling my face back to capture his lips—or to let him capture mine. And he was going to… he was poised to, hands grasping my hips and tensing and releasing there, still waging the war. And just as he again came close enough to kissing me that I could have felt rather than seen the proximity of his lips…

"I have a girlfriend."