Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: So, I wrote this instead of doing homework. :) I hope you enjoy. Sorry for those of you who are/will be disappointed.

Chapter Twenty-Three:

He paused, a breath away from me. If I had extended my tongue to lick my utterly dry lips, I would have been swiping across his. I swallowed, blinking several times, and then stepped back, uncertain. I didn't know why he had stopped… I didn't want him to stop… Stopping meant that it was within my control. I now had the time to pull away from him, the time to think… the time to be culpable. And that was what he wanted, apparently. He didn't want to kiss me and have me say that I had no part in it… He wanted us to kiss each other. He wanted me to be unable to distance myself from the act.

My chest was rising and falling with my labored breathing, and I was watching him through heavily-lidded eyes, my whole body thrumming with what almost happened and yet still had not. I blinked several times, and he looked to be suffering with the same problems… He was panting, his bright eyes dark, his gaze lingering.

I swallowed. "…What… was that?"

His hands came gently to my arms, running from shoulder to elbow, and I thrilled at the touch. It sent electricity through me. I wanted to step into his embrace, so I curled my toes in my shoes, trying to anchor myself in place. "I… realized that I didn't want it to happen that way."

I swallowed again, feeling dizzy with the restraint it required to keep me from falling against his chest. "Oh." I said, because it was the only word I could get to cross my lips coherently. He smiled, his warm hands pausing at my elbows.

"I… didn't want you to be able to say that you didn't want it too. …Sara, we both know you wanted it."

"I stepped away." I replied stubbornly. He sighed, dropping my arms.

"You did. …Because you don't cheat. You don't cheat, but you spend every moment you're not with him, with me. You don't cheat, but you've lied to him about how you know me, when you see me, and what our relationship is. You don't cheat, Sara Sidle, but you flirt and you toy… you admit attraction and jealousy and uncertainty. …You tell me things that you have no business telling a casual acquaintance. You react to my most innocent touches like a lover in the throes of passion. Sara… you might not have kissed me, but you are not innocent."

I wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream in his face, unleash the full force of my temper against him, rail against him for daring to accuse me of being disloyal when I had tried very hard to avoid even speaking to him. I was loyal! I loved Jace! I… I was so angry! I stepped forward, to do what I'm not exactly sure, along the way my right hand lifted, it's a good bet to say I had every intention of slapping him across the face for his words. But in my anger, I overestimated the space between us. The step I took brought me flush against his chest and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his arms snaked around my waist and held me tight to him.

The fight went out of me in a moment and I slumped against him, miserable and trying desperately to fight back the tears that were now pricking the back of my eyes and welling up. His large hands sprawled across my back, moving up my spine and soothing me, and before I knew it I was gripping his shoulders desperately and sobbing against his shoulder, uncontrollably.

I had not chosen this. I didn't want to meet someone who would make me doubt everything I was so very certain of. I didn't want to betray Jace or sneak around or lie, and I didn't want to feel so… conflicted. I wanted to know what I wanted and where I was going and have that be enough… I wanted to be content with Jace, because that was so much easier. I wanted to tell Dr. Grissom to go to hell.

Instead, I clung to him like a child, trying to gain control over my helpless tears and the sobs wracking my body, while he slowly and gently moved his palms up and down my back, bringing more comfort than I knew what to do with. It was several minutes before the anguish slowed and he was able to pull back enough to murmur softly to me, "Sara… Come on, honey, back to the bench…"

He guided me slowly back to where his briefcase still resided and set me down, keeping close to me, my hands gripping his shirt like a lifeline. He sat beside me and wrapped his arms around me, tugging me tightly to him and holding me in what must have been the safest, warmest, most comforting embrace I had ever experienced. I sighed softly before hiccupping against his shoulder, and his hands continued moving over my back until he thought I was calm enough for him to pull back and look at my face, gently.

"…I'm sorry, Sara."

I looked up at him in surprise. "…Why are you sorry?"

"…I did this. That night at the bar, you were…happy. Sara, you were… vibrant. Since I've entered your life, you haven't been sleeping, you have bags under your eyes… you're stressed and frowning and… crying, honey. I don't want to make you cry." At his words, he gently slid his thumbs over my cheekbones, wiping away any remaining moisture there.

I shivered at the action, wanting with a longing deep within me—deep in my chest and in my stomach and between my thighs—to lean in and take what he had denied me. I wanted to press my lips to his, to see if he would taste as good as he smelled—clean and warm and masculine, with a hint of excitement. I wanted to drag my tongue over the crease of his lips, feel him gasp and respond to me, feel the inside of his mouth and the press of his hands and the pressure of his breath as it came fast and heavy against my aching flesh.

I leaned forward, unconsciously, and though he didn't back away from me, his voice stopped me, soft and slow and gentle, almost a whisper, and filled with pain. "…Don't, Sara."

I stopped, searching his eyes for understanding. He sighed softly. "You… you're too honest. You have too acute a sense of guilt. You'll do it and then regret it… run from me… and if you don't confess it to Jace, you'll go through with the marriage simply because of that guilt. If you do confess it, he will either leave you or forgive you. If he leaves you, you'll blame me. If he forgives you, that guilt will kick in again… you'll feel like you owe him, and you'll marry him. …If you marry him, honey… don't think about me, think about yourself. If you marry him, make sure it's because it's what you want."

I shook my head feebly, feeling like having been denied the kiss twice, I now had a gaping hole within me. "I… I don't know what I want. I… Everything is a mess! One minute I'm certain that even seeing you again is not only bad for me, but the very last thing I even want… and the next minute I can't tear myself away from you, drawn to like… magnetism. Like gravity."

His eyes lit up again, and he gripped my arms just below my shoulders almost fiercely. "Don't you think that means something, Sara?"

I felt my eyes crinkle and tried to fight back the onslaught of grief again. "I don't know!" I wailed, and the light fell from his face. He sighed, a quiet, desperate sound, and leaned forward to kiss my forehead softly, making me gasp and shiver despite the innocence of the gesture. Soft, delicate, loving kisses like that… just the thought of them falling across my body in places both intimate and chaste, had me breathing fast and deep. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Sara. …I… have to stop doing this to you. Marry Jace."

He got up and moved away from me, a stifled sob marking his retreat, and I had not strength to chase him. I crumpled on the bench, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to keep from crying out loud now, all alone on the bench on campus. I waited until I had calmed enough to draw myself up and make the trek back towards the lecture hall and my vehicle.

I managed to control my emotions long enough to make the drive home, and I was surprised but relieved to find Jace gone. There was a note on the fridge—he'd gone to the library to work on his thesis. I panicked, briefly, knowing he had been on campus… but he'd written a time on the bottom of the note. Less than fifteen minutes previous… we had probably passed each other on our way.

I trudged into the bedroom and stripped out of my clothing, feeling like it was heavy and dirty… tainted with the stains of my uncertainty and the embraces of a man who was not mine to embrace. I crawled into bed, shivering despite the heat of the day, and curled up and cried. I cried and cried for Dr. Grissom and for Jace and for myself… for my indiscretions and my inadequacies and my inability to simply know what I wanted and pursue it.

I cried until my breast and throat ached, until my eyes were thick and heavy and swollen, my face raw… and finally, finally, slept.