Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: So sorry for the long delay. I know it's been forever, but real life has been unbelievably busy and kinda rough so... Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with me and with this story, even though I don't post as often as I did with other stories. 3 It means the world.

Also, I want to thank Pati, once again, for the insight and help and for being so much more than a Beta. 3

Enjoy! And review!

Chapter Eighteen:

"A priest?"

He gave me a long-suffering look. "Forgive me, but there just aren't all that many costumes for adult men. If I had it my way I'd go as Spider Man, but…"

I snorted a laugh. "You should! That'd be hilarious!" And there was the long-suffering look again. I felt my smile soften. "Okay, fine, but… I mean, there are adult costumes better than a priest. …Axe murderer?"

He cringed and shook his head. "It hits a little too close to home…"

"Oh. Right." I frowned. "Well… you have to think of something!"

He rolled his eyes, passing me the bag of popcorn. I took a handful. After a long moment, he shook his head. "I don't know why I need to dress up anyway. I mean, I don't really think I'd wear my costume to class. As far as I know none of the other teachers are having any kind of party… Why bother?"

I looked at him in surprise. "Well, you're coming to Anni and I's party, aren't you? …I've been talking about it for weeks."

He blinked at me. "No, I… I guess I didn't really realize you expected me to. I… Do you really think that's… appropriate?"

I gave him a sidelong glance. "…More inappropriate than seeing a movie with me?"

He shook his head. "Sitting in a mostly empty theatre, far away from campus…? Far less of a chance that people will see and… misinterpret. I can't go to a party crowded with students."

"Oh." I narrowed my eyebrows. "…So… wear a costume."

He stared at me for a long moment, and then started laughing. Loudly. The lights went down before he stopped, but it made me feel good, even if I didn't necessarily understand why.

Even though we had gone to our share of movies in the two, almost three, weeks since the day we'd met for lunch and walked along the beach, testing out whether friendship between us was even possible, the dimming lights never failed to make me shiver beside him. I had spent the entire first movie shifting awkwardly in my seat, willing him to slide an arm around me or put his hand on my thigh. Thankfully (or perhaps not), I now knew him well enough to know that he would do no such thing. The episode in his office only occurred because I had pushed him so far and attacked him so blatantly. It was not a state that could be maintained. The realization meant I was less on-edge around him, but it also meant that I couldn't keep up the same tactics.

No—being Sara Sidle, sexy and dangerous, was not a winning path. He wanted to believe that I was sweet and, if not innocent, certainly not experienced. He wanted to think I was mature for my age, but otherwise just like every other college student. And while I couldn't fall into that mold entirely and end up disregarded, I needed to stick close enough to it to not put him off. Instead, I became Sara Sidle, adorable co-ed. Which mostly meant that I censored myself, when giving opinions or talking about my own past, recent or otherwise. In everything else, I was fairly honest, and thus far it seemed to be working.

"That looks good." He said, leaning over just close enough to make my stomach tighten. "We should see that when it comes out." I glanced up, brought back to reality. It was a preview for some comedy. Which had surprised me in the beginning, his penchant for comedies—I thought he'd be all about dramas. I mean, not that he didn't enjoy those—but when he wanted something light, it was Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase or, believe it or not, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. …I know. I couldn't believe it either. He also had a few strange favorites that I wouldn't have picked for someone who initially came off as so serious; Ghost Busters, Back to the Future, The Big Chill, and some chick flick named Cousins that we'd hadn't seen yet, but he kept telling me I would love.

I turned my face just slightly, wanting him to feel the closeness too. "It looks kinda stupid…" My trademark response for any comedy he suggested. He shook his head and sighed, but a smile was curling his lips. I grinned. "So… are you coming?"

He sighed in the darkness. "No costume is going to disguise a teacher from a group of underage drinkers, Sara."

I grinned. "Wear a mask. And jeans. And a shirt without a collar. You'll be fine."

"A mask? What, am I going as Nixon?"

I snorted a laugh and turned to look at him fully, before snorting again and pressing my face against his shoulder, trying to stifle my laughter. He shook his head, and someone several rows behind us shushed us loudly. It was several minutes later that he leaned over again, even closer, so he could keep his voice lower. "…What are you going as?"

"Alannah Myles."

He turned his head more fully and his exhale fell across my neck, making my eyelids flutter. "Who?"

I glanced at him and smirked, attempting to regain composure. Even knowing nothing would happen, it was difficult to remain unaffected when I was this close to him in the dark. "Watch MTV once in a while. You're too young to act so old."

He glared playfully and elbowed me, inducing a giggle and another irritated "Shh!" from behind us. Seriously, the movie hadn't even started yet.

The subject fell away and, by the time we were walking out of the theatre, my thoughts were on the movie. We discussed it as we walked and then we reached our cars, smiled and gave a light hug—the kind you give to distant relatives you haven't seen in ten years, but still feel like you're obligated to embrace—and then separated for the night.

I meant to bring it up with him again, over the course of the week, but I had basically had to sell my soul to get my shifts taken for Halloween and the following day. I managed to get them covered, in bits and pieces, by about five different people, and thus had picked up five different sets of hours. I was working so much that I was doing homework in the time before Dr. Grissom's class and even when I called him at two in the morning, the conversations were… limited.

"Hey."

"Hey." He yawned sleepily. "How was work?"

"Busy. How was your day?"

"Good."

"Tell me about it…"

And he would launch into an explanation of something interesting he had read or a conversation he'd had with Dr. Anderson or a funny moment in a class… and though I fought as hard as I could to stay awake, I would almost invariably be asleep by the time he finished speaking. Dim memories told me that he was never very upset. He would call my name, gently, and sometimes I would answer—other times not—but it was always slurred and unclear. I would try to lift myself from the haze, but found myself wholly unsuccessful. Coupling this kind of exhaustion with the soothing calm that his voice provided was a failsafe cure for insomnia, though I still didn't really feel rested in the morning. I had muscles aching that I hadn't known existed.

It was with absolute relief that Halloween arrived. I took a nap right after school and Anni woke me when she got home from class. Surprisingly, the couple hours I'd gotten had done wonders, and I felt excited and ready to go. I called Grissom to insist that he buy a mask—any mask—and come to the party. He didn't answer, but I left a message and hoped.

Anni was going as Betty Boop. Which consisted of a tiny, strapless, backless, red dress, four inch red heels, and garters. We curled her hair in tight ringlets up against her head and she put on way too much make up. I, at least, would be far more comfortable tonight. The leather pants were tight, but not too tight, and I was actually very comfortable in the black tank top, the tops of a red, lacy bra peeking out. I borrowed Anni's bright red lipstick and let my curls out loose and wild. And, I had to admit, I was a pretty close fit to the actual singer. I mean, not identical… but close enough to be recognizable. Anni grinned.

"They are gonna be all over us tonight."

…There just weren't any dignified male costumes. And especially not with masks. I paced the aisles of the Halloween shop in agitation. Whatever I might say to Sara about boundaries and proprieties, I could not deny that I had spent several days agonizing over this stupid party and what she expected from me. I wanted to go. I wanted to spend time with Sara publicly, I wanted to see her around her friends, and—God, I didn't like to admit this—I wanted to see her a little tipsy. Not that I would take advantage of her; I would rather die than hurt her. But just… a little softer around the edges. Maybe a little quicker to laugh and a little slower to anger. I just wanted to see her a little more… honestly. Less guarded.

Because though Sara thought she was very subtle, there was no denying that she had been evasive about herself. Her family, her past, even most of what she'd done and who'd she'd been since she'd come to college. It was as if she'd just appeared out of a void on that first day of class.

I wanted to see something beyond Sara's mask.

It was with this burning desire most prominent in my mind that I finally snatched a generic black mask that would cover only from brow to cheek bone and a hooded black cape. I didn't know what I was going to be, but really, was anyone likely to ask me except Sara? No. And Sara would find it amusing that I didn't have the faintest idea what I was supposed to be, if nothing else.

I showered, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and threw the mask and cape on, hoping that this wasn't a very, very big mistake. …And that I wasn't heading towards immeasurable embarrassment. I was actually moments from backing out when I saw that I had a message on my answering machine. …It was Sara, and she wanted me there. I knew the party would have been going for at least an hour by now, but I just… couldn't sit at home and imagine.

Especially not since I'd been flipping channels and, remembering Sara's words, stopped on MTV for five minutes of wondering whether Sara and I really had anything in common if this was what she thought I should be watching. Just before I changed the channel, however, a song started and the letters at the bottom of the screen informed me that the singer was Alannah Myles. The woman Sara was going as. I watched the video, saw Sara in each and every movement the young woman made, and followed the experience with a very, very cold shower.

Who was I really kidding, anyway? I knew that I would go, no matter how long I agonized over it. I would be there, sooner or later. So I left.

The apartment—which was really more like a condo or a townhouse… How much money did Anni have, exactly?—was barely recognizable in the dark, completely lit up from within, the street before it littered with cars. As soon as I parked and reached the end of the driveway I could hear the music pulsing. It was something loud, with a heavy beat, but I couldn't make out any words. I thought about knocking and disregarded the idea—no one would hear it anyway. At this point, the party had gone beyond that, and if someone did answer, it would likely only draw attention to me. Instead, I slipped inside, hoping that my foolish ensemble would disguise me enough to allow me some anonymity while I searched for Sara.

What I might do when I found her, I wasn't exactly sure of, yet.

I had fought with myself long enough that most of the people surrounding me were not on their first drink. In fact, though there couldn't be more than twenty to thirty people here, it felt like there must be near a hundred. It was crowded and hot and no one really noticed, let alone questioned me… With the one prominent exception of a tiny little blonde whose head came just above my shoulder, though it looked like that was due mostly to the giant heels she had on. She wrapped one arm around my waist and managed to spill her beer in the process, thankfully soaking only my shoulder and part of the cloak.

"Ohhhh my god. I'm. so. sorry. …Let me get that for you." She dropped the now-empty cup to slip her hands under my shirt at my sides. I jumped away like I'd been burned. The girl, for her part, fell to the floor at my sudden movement and looked disoriented. I frowned and helped her to stand, thinking that there was no way I could leave her. She was absolutely gone and if I knew college guys…

"Jess! What are you doing?" Another girl approached, looking very sober and eyeing me with suspicion. I offered my best placating smile and passed 'Jess' to the new girl, noticing for the first time that she was dressed like a devil. …I hated irony.

"She, uh… spilled her beer on me. And then tried to help me get out of my wet shirt. I… didn't just want to leave her, but…"

The new girl nodded, apparently satisfied that I hadn't been in the process of dragging her friend into a bedroom to take advantage of her. "Thanks."

I nodded and felt better about moving forward, further into the crowd. I thought about heading upstairs, and then disregarded it after a moment. The kitchen was small, but more likely for hosts. As I pushed through people, I heard the music changing to something I recognized immediately, though I had only heard the song once. I could already feel another cold shower coming on.

I wasn't the only one, apparently—people were moving to the kitchen with me now, obviously surging to see something within. I pushed through, finally, and saw a girl who might look very much at home on a corner standing by their tiny little bar top, grinning. "…Who wants to see Alannah Myles perform her song?" She shouted out, above the music.

It was Anni, I realized, when she spoke. The tight curls up by her head threw me off. …Betty Boop, I realized, before grimacing in distaste, but my eyes slipped behind her, finding Sara. She looked… very, very much like her singing counterpart, though with a sort of grace and refined beauty that had not been conveyed in the brief video I'd seen. She was blushing—or was her face red from drinking?—but she was smiling.

And before my eyes, another Sara emerged. A Sara who, apparently, danced on kitchen bar tops. A Sara who could twist and arch her perfect little body in ways that would make a porn star jealous. A Sara who would drag her barely-dressed friend up with her, and proceed to engage in something just short of probably every man here's fantasy, They wound around each other, hands all over their own bodies and, within moments, pressed together, hands on each other's bodies. They separated, but the dizziness inspired by the moment lingered as my eyes followed her hips as they rocked with each beat of the music.

This was a girl I didn't know. A girl who did not know I was here and who might believe I was not coming at all.

"A new religion, that'll bring you to your knees…"

Jesus Christ, if truer words were ever spoken… I wasn't even drinking, I hadn't spoken to her yet, and yet I felt like I did the night I almost kissed her—the inevitability and the loss of control—and like I did the day I did kiss her, in my office—angry and frustrated and pulsing with masculine possessiveness. Yes, I wanted to fall to my knees before her like a religion, but not before I bodily removed every other male from the vicinity. How dare they lay their eyes on her when she was… When she was doing things that I imagined would be my privilege to see, one day, in private. A sweet, seductive side of Sara, kept safe and secret, just for me.

Not a public one.

"Black velvet, if you please…"

The song trailed off, the girls slid back to the ground, Sara flushed but laughing, Anni grinning and giggling at the group of men who surrounded her. And though Sara was surrounded also, she seemed… disinterested. She gave the crowd a perfunctory scan, frowned in disappointment, and then made her excuses to her admirers, slipping out from them, and then out of the kitchen. I followed in time to see her climb through people in an attempt to get upstairs. I had a much harder time slipping by people, and she was nowhere in sight when I reached the top landing. There were only two doors, however, so I chose the one closest to me. The window in front of me told me that I was at the front of the house, and hadn't I accidentally seen her dressing in a window at the front?

I opened the door to the unmistakable sounds of sex. I blinked in surprise and they dwindled, a guy turning to look at me. "Dude, what the hell?" …I needed to know that it was not my Sara in his arms though. I cleared my throat, prepared to ask, when a female voice I didn't recognize asked, "…What, do you want to join in?"

I closed the door faster than you can say "threesome". Was this the world Sara lived in? The one she hinted at, but never ever directly connected herself to? I moved down the hallway to try the other door, dreading what I would find there. When the door was locked, my heart pounded harder. Oh god. She was inside, with some guy—I knocked. I don't know why I knocked or what I was even thinking but—

"I told you guys already. No one is having—" The door unlocked and burst open in front of me. "—sex in my room!" She blinked in surprise. "…Oh. Um, Can I help you?"

I frowned, and then realized my mistake. I slipped the hood of my cloak off. Her eyes lit up upon the sight of my curls—a dead giveaway, apparently. "You came!"

And then our lips crashed together before either of us knew what hit us.