Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Yay! Earlier than I expected. (We had to hurry home to check the Twins score... -rolls eyes-) Anywho, you guys really aren't going to like me after this. :) I promise, there will be a GSR happy ending. It's all I do.

For those who have asked, I have no idea how long this will be. I'm posting it, most times, immediately after I finish writing.

Chapter Twenty Seven:

I was hurt, but I didn't cry... I got mad. I had a terrible temper. Wednesday night, I stormed around the apartment, waiting for Jace to get home… and when he did, I had to hide it while we went to bed, but I didn't stop being angry, and I didn't stop thinking about it.

I left the next morning, so Jace wouldn't ask any questions… but I didn't go to Dr. Grissom's lectures. I wasn't going to continue to hang on his every word when he had deceived me… misrepresented himself… put me through so much hell and for nothing. I went to the beach, instead. Not one of the tourist beaches, but one that was rocky and steep, the waves perpetually white as they broke over the black crags. I sat on one of the rocks, close enough to feel the spray in my face when the waves would break, but far enough to stay mostly dry.

The sky was cloudy, and that was appropriate.

It just… it didn't seem right. His behavior did not match his words. He hadn't acted like he was still in love with her except… except for the moments in which we'd talked about her. Hadn't he said it hurt to talk about her? No, he'd corrected himself, when I'd admitted to being jealous, saying that he just viewed it as a stupid mistake. …Which were true? If he didn't want me, why reassure me that there was nothing to be jealous of? That he was all mine, if I wanted him, when he knew that to be false?

It had taken me fifteen minutes to climb down to this point, and I made it back to my car in less than five, no worse for the wear except for a scrape on the heel of my palm and a banged shin. I took off, towards campus, glancing in surprise at the clock to find that I had been there not minutes but hours. It was going on noon… I sped up, hoping I could get there in time to sneak into his noon lecture before he started.

I hated walking in late.

And once there, I watched how he reacted to seeing me. His voice trembled… his thoughts seemed scattered. There was no way he could argue that he did not want me… that I was not affecting him. When he was done for the day, I went down and confronted him… and within moments, my confidence had once again wilted. Every reason I'd had to doubt him, he'd explained… gently, sweetly, and genuinely. I made my excuses, asked him to email me… and left.

I met Jace at the house with just minutes to spare before we had to go pick up his parents.

"Honey?"

"In here." He came out of the bedroom, dressed in a polo and khaki pants—strange for him. He was a strictly jeans and a t-shirt kind of guy. I smiled.

"You think that if you show up dressed up, your mom won't try to get you to cut your hair?" He didn't have long hair—only a few inches, so that a few strands feel sexily over his forehead. I liked to tease him that he was going for the 'Uncle Jesse' look, but his mother thought it made him look like a 'hooligan.' You know, either/or.

He grinned, pulling me close and kissing me deeply. "That's the plan. Do you think she'll fall for it?"

"Not a chance. …But please, don't let her cut it super short before the wedding…"

His smile was even brighter after that, which struck me as strange. "I won't, I promise… You ready?"

"Give me a minute to run a brush through my hair," I said, thinking of the tangles I was certain to have from sitting out on the beach today, and hurried into the bedroom to grab a fresh shirt and then into the master bathroom to try to make my hair presentable. "Ready!"

We hurried out, and the drive to the airport was… surprisingly comfortable. We were talking about how excited we were for the wedding and… no longer having a third option… being left to either marry him or not, and be alone… it was easy to be excited. It was the first time I felt excited about the wedding since the night of my bachelorette party. It made me smile, to feel so confident about it again. Things were fine… they were going to be wonderful. Really.

His mother was a… loud woman. A little overbearing, a little demanding, but she had a good heart. We got along, as long as I bit my tongue, and often. But they lived across the country, so it was an easy thing to do for a few days at a time. As far as mothers-in-law went, I had gotten lucky. Michelle and Kyleigh hated each other's mothers, and their mothers both hated their daughter's partner… not because they were partners, but just because. But, I suppose women were like that. We're far more judgmental of each other than of men. If I had a daughter who was a lesbian, chances were I'd never approve of any woman she brought home.

His father was a quiet man who smiled freely and liked to give hugs, especially to me. Jace hadn't shared the gory details of my past with them, but they knew that I'd been in foster care since I was pretty young, and that my dad wasn't the most nurturing of men. He always tried to be fatherly to me because of it.

They hurried over to us, his mother's full bosom nearly knocking me over when she hugged me, and her first words following her greetings were, "Jace Arnold," his father's name, "You look like one of those… musicians," she said the word with disdain, and I frowned, realizing she meant 80's hair bands… It was 1998.

He hugged her. "It's so good to see you too, Mom." She huffed but smiled—who could help it when Jace was grinning like a little boy like he was. His father hugged me next, a warm, all-encompassing thing, and I returned it gladly. "Dad." Jace greeted as he pulled away from me, and the men went through the posturing of offering each other a hand shake and letting it turn into a reluctant hug.

Machoism. Ugh.

I gave up the front seat to his mother once we'd picked up their baggage, and the drive to their hotel was short. We accompanied them up to get settled, and then were finally all back in Jace's car, headed to a restaurant, his mother going on and on in the front seat about the exhaustive list of tasks we would need to complete the next day at the break of dawn. Jace interrupted her.

"Mom, you know that Sara has morning lectures. After lunch you guys can worry about the details…" She grumbled something about a wedding being more important than some lecture, but Jace shook his head, laughter in his voice. "Well, that's why I'm not marrying you, Mom. I like that Sara is so passionate about her education and her job."

I beamed at that, and he tossed me a smile over his shoulder while his dad placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. See what I mean? There's just something about women…

The evening at the restaurant was a struggle, his mother wanting to go over every minute detail of the wedding. I had had only a few requirements—it had to work within Jace and I's budget, all the flowers must be real, and the minister had to be as gender equal as possible… the vows the exact same and none of this 'man and wife' stuff. Husband and Wife. It was the only way I could get over the whole concept of marriage being a property exchange, with me as the property.

His mother had chosen calla lilies, which I didn't particularly like, but I didn't hate them, and they would all be real. We were getting married in the church Jace had grown up in, with a minister who understood my specific requirements about language, and the reception would be in a local hotel's ballroom. Dinner included the generic chicken and beef options, the DJ was cheap, the photographer expensive, and favors abundant and unnecessary… but I was going to marry a man who was good to me, and who would love me more than anyone else, his whole life long.

That was what was important.

It was with relief that I rose from the table at the end of the meal and followed my future in-laws back out to the car to drop them off at their hotel. Jace was supposed to have the night off, and when we curled up in bed and his broad hands started moving over my back, I welcomed it. I wanted to feel loved and desired… I wanted to feel how much he needed me and to know that I mattered.

Before we could do more than let our kissing get heated, however, the phone was ringing. We ignored it, but when it rang again, he pulled away, worrying it was his parents. When he answered and it was his boss, Al, he simply said, "I said I couldn't work tonight," and hung up the phone. I was thrilled with that, and we did our best to ignore the phone the third, fourth, and fifth times it rang… but on the sixth, with a frustrated groan, he broke from me and answered abruptly, "What?!"

After a moment he closed his eyes in frustration. "It should be in the drawer with all the other records, Al."

I sat up, letting my breathing slow.

"Al, my parents are in town." He said, trying to make his excuses, but after another long moment.

"No, you don't need to stay. I'll come in and find it, but you are not allowed to call me for the next week after this, do you understand?"

Al apparently apologized, because Jace rolled his eyes and said, "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to my bride who never sees me anymore."

Al said something, and Jace rolled his eyes, glancing at me and passing me the phone. "He actually wants to apologize to you."

I sighed, taking the phone with Jace got up to get dressed in his work clothes.

"Hey Al."

"Hey sweetheart. I'm really sorry about this… without that form I can't charge this guy and—"

"I understand." I said, even though I really didn't.

"He's just going to be busy with the wedding, you know, so it's not like I could ask him about it the next time he comes in…"

I chuckled. "I know. No problem, Al, really. I'll see you at the wedding on Saturday, right?"

"Me and the Mrs. We wouldn't miss it for the world."

I grinned. "Thanks. I'll let you go… You're heading home, aren't you?" I asked, glancing at the clock. He rarely stayed late because he had night blindness and his wife had to come pick him up if he was working after dark.

"Yeah, Betty just pulled up. She won't be too happy if I leave her waiting."

I laughed. "Goodnight, Al."

"Night Sar'."

I hung up, and Jace caught my lips the minute I pulled the phone from my ear, bending me back onto the bed with no little amount of passion. It had my eyes rolling back in my head and my breath coming in pants again. He grinned. "We're not done, here… I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay." I smiled at him, watching him go. How on earth could I be confused when I had such a wonderful man who loved me so much?

In fact, I wasn't confused. Moments before, in this bed, I had known exactly what I wanted. In fact, I hadn't thought of Dr. Grissom once. It had been all about Jace… and he was right, we weren't done here.

I leapt out of bed, straightening my clothing and hurrying out to my car. I was only about ten minutes behind him, so hopefully he wouldn't already be headed home when I got there. I sped all the way over to Al's garage, happy see his car parked outside when I pulled up. I hurried in, opening and closing the door behind me as quietly as I could and locking the door. He wasn't in the garage area, but Al had said something about a form, so I headed towards the office.

He was there, looking irritated, digging through piles of paper. I knocked on the door frame and he looked up at me in surprise. "…Hey. What are you doing here?"

I grinned. "I… thought we could finish what we started…"

His eyes were wide. "…Here?"

I grinned. "I couldn't help but notice that hot little red Camaro out there…"

He stood up. "You're not serious…"

I started backing towards the car. "The door is locked. If you turn the lights off, no one would ever know…"

He followed me, his eyes wide. "…Really?"

I grinned. "I figured you'd left me alone in bed often enough this week… it's only fair if I bring the 'bed' to work."

"I… don't have anything." He said, referring to the condoms we'd used ever since I'd stopped taking birth control because the mood swings had been extreme and uncontrollable.

"I don't care."

I slid up, once I reached the car, so that I was sitting on the hood, leaning back on my elbows, my feet braced on the locked garage door right in front of the car. He shook his head. "You know, I never believed the whole 'Mile High Club' story until this moment…"

I grinned. "Turn off the light, and I'll make you a believer."

His eyes flashed, the lights went out, and then he was everywhere, and my body was thrumming with it. I did come, this time, hard and fast, several times, and when he emptied himself inside me and I let myself collapse in sweaty exhaustion against the hood of the car, my only thought was, 'See? ...I am happy.'