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A/N: I'm really excited about this chapter. Let me know what you think! :)

Chapter Twenty:

She said she wouldn't call me, and that was good, because it meant that she knew what she was doing. It was good, because then I could go about the business of getting over a woman I'd never even had. I hadn't meant to fall for her—I really hadn't—but I had… I had fallen for the nuances of her expressions and the lilt in her voice and the whip-like quality of her humor—quick and biting. I had fallen for the willowy shape of her body and the musical, husky sound of her laugh, and for the sharp intelligence that enticed me and challenged me to no end.

So it was good, that she wasn't going to call, because every moment I spent with her would make it harder in the end. It was good. So good, in fact, that I was glad she wasn't going to call. Chances were, I wouldn't even answer if she did. So it was… just good… that she wasn't.

My phone rang, and I literally scrambled from the end of the hotel bed, up and across it to the nightstand.

"Hello?!"

"…Dr. Grissom?"

"Sara." I said, on a sigh, cursing myself for sounding so needy.

"…Have you eaten yet?"

I hadn't, but it was rather late. "Haven't you?"

"I… had supper but… I didn't eat most of it."

"Oh."

She swallowed. "If… you've eaten… that's fine. I was just thinking… my in-laws are coming on Thursday, and… we said we'd eat… before the wedding."

I swallowed compulsively. My mouth was dry. "I… haven't eaten."

"I can pick you up?"

"…Sure. I… twenty minutes?"

"…I'll be there. Uh… your room number?"

"I'll come out front."

"Oh. …Okay. Okay. …Twenty minutes, then."

"Great." I said, hating how strained my voice sounded.

"Great," she repeated, and hung up the phone. I sighed, getting up and changing back into the pants I'd worn for the day and finding a fresh shirt, thankful that Catherine had lectured me about bringing extra clothes, just in case. I wasn't sure what I'd do without the woman. I reapplied deodorant and brushed my hair and teeth, put on socks and shoes, and paced my hotel room the final ten minutes before I knew she'd be arriving.

I didn't even know why I was doing this… why I wasn't telling her that I couldn't trust her if she could do this to Jace… that she needed to make up her mind. …I knew that wasn't fair. She had tried, multiple times, in the beginning, to tell me no. I had pushed her into seeing what was between us, and now that she saw it, she didn't know what to do. But that was when I had believed that I was a better choice for her than whoever she was with… and now that I'd met Saint Jace… I wasn't so sure.

I moved out to wait in the entryway of the hotel, uncertain what her car looked like—it was old-looking, on the outside, though from the sound of it I would guess the engine was new… or completely rebuilt. Probably Jace's doing. I scowled at the car and slid into her passenger seat. She glanced at me.

"Hi."

"Hi." I said, thinking that I forgot how lovely she was, each time I saw her. Thinking that I was falling in love with her, and I hadn't wanted to even think the word before she made up her mind, but she had every piece of me responding to her and she wasn't doing anything.

"…You like seafood?"

I nodded, and that was enough… a short drive to a seafood place near my hotel that she clearly knew about. We were seated next to a large picture window that was propped open to let in the salty breeze. It was old… had probably been here for decades… and everything came in gigantic portions. We ordered calamari for an appetizer, along with our drinks—I wasn't driving, so I opted for a beer. I would need it, tonight. And once the waiter swept away, she leveled me with her dark gaze, eyes clouded in confusion.

"…Your first time."

I swallowed. There was no discussion… and strangely, it wasn't needed. We understood the situation we were in, and agonizing over it would do nothing. And I knew myself well enough to know that no matter what ultimatums I might voice or think to myself, until she was a married woman, I would allow her to change her mind and welcome her with open arms. So until the time ran out, what discussion was necessary? Instead, we were telling our secrets.

"I was… nineteen. I… I was a devout Catholic, through high school. I mean, I doubted certain things, but the core belief was there, so… the idea of sex before married was… unthinkable. I had had a serious high school girlfriend, for a while… but we went off to different colleges and… she wasn't really ready either."

"…Who was she?"

I frowned, seeking to avoid that specific detail. "Her name was Susan. We… shared a lot of common interests. Biology, entomology… science in general."

"You met her at school?"

My lips twitched. "…Yes. I… Yes."

"Was she… the girl who you didn't have money for, because of the cadavers?"

"…Yes."

"You dated her for a long time."

"…Three years." I nodded, wondering how she'd picked up on that. I swallowed again. "I… We're talking about the first sexual encounter, not the person…"

She raised her eyebrows, but didn't push me. She just nodded, and I slowly released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"We were in a lab, on campus, late… working on a project. We'd… flirted, but… I hadn't made a move because she was… out of my league. I was attracted but I never thought… Our hands kept touching on dissection tools and the pen and… and when our eyes locked, it was like fire." I felt the familiar pang in my chest at my words, but I had promised. "I was… too scared, to act. But she kissed me, over the top of a tray with a half-dissected fetal pig, and even though I wasn't sure… I… I couldn't help but kiss her back. And all of a sudden, we were standing up, tearing off gloves and lab coats and stumbling into the storage room."

Her eyes were wide. "…Your first time was in a storage room on campus?"

I felt my cheeks burning. "I… Yeah. I didn't have anything, of course…but she was on birth control, she said. …I told her that I wasn't sure… and she realized, what that meant, and I think… that appealed to her more. She helped me… stopped when I was a little too… involved and was going to lose it… told me what she liked and what… to do."

"Did you get caught?"

I shook my head. "No… we were the only ones in the building."

She frowned. "We were never allowed in the labs without a teacher in the building…"

I shrugged. "I grew up in a different time…" There, that sounded plausible.

She nodded, slowly, her eyes out of focus… and I knew she was picturing it. This made me a little uncomfortable, and I was relieved when our calamari and drinks arrived and she was diverted. It was not a story I particularly enjoyed sharing.

We ate slowly, but I was not going to forget her end of the deal—dinner and her own story. "…You haven't said anything."

She smiled softly. "I'm sorry… it's just so much more… voyeuristic… than I would have guessed for you." I blushed again and she chuckled. "Please don't take offense. I'm not trying to say you're… boring. You just seem… private." The last word came soft and breathy and sent shivers down my spine. "…Why did you… break up? I mean, if you dated for three years, you couldn't have been spending all your money on fetal pigs from the beginning, right?"

I shook my head. "We… outgrew… each other." She frowned at my vagueness and I cleared my throat. "…You?