Ok, Chapter the second. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! You motivate me to keep cranking out chapters! My apologies to anyone who liked it as a one-shot... I couldn't resist.
At the beginning of the following shift, Sara was determined to put yesterday's incident behind her. Surely Greg had meant nothing by it, he was just teasing her. Right?
Continuing to dwell over this thought, Sara meandered by the DNA lab, not really paying attention to anything. Lost in thought, Sara accidentally wandered right into something solid and surprisingly muscular. Stunned, she stumbled back, almost losing her footing. A hand reached out and grabbed her about the waist, steadying her before she fell.
Sara looked up into a pair of deep brown eyes and felt that pesky blush creep back to her cheeks.
There was a long pause. "You know," Greg started, not removing his arm from her hips or his eyes from her own, "if you wanted to be close to me, you could have just asked." He let his hand linger for a moment, finding a small area of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waist of her pants with his middle finger. He smirked down at her, removed his arm from where it rested, and walked back into the lab. Stunned, Sara simply stood where she was, willing her cheeks to return to their natural colour.
"Hey," Greg beckoned her into the lab, "About that skin tag from the hair you gave me. Not a match to our vic, but had 7 alleles in common."
Sara, still focused on why oh why her face kept turning the colour of a tomato lately, just barely heard what he said. "What... oh, I mean... who..." she trailed off, her mind wandering.
Greg looked at her, as if waiting for her ramblings to somehow make sense. "So," he cautiously began, "I'm thinking brother, father maybe... Sara? Hey, Sara, come back to me. "
Startled to hear her name, and to hear the words "come back to me" slip from his lips, Sara looked at Greg. Suddenly, she realized why she'd been blushing ferociously. Without her noticing, Greg had somehow gone from the goofy, spastic lab-tech to, well, something different. He no longer seemed to live to annoy her, or if he did, she no longer found it annoying. His little jabs and flirtations were becoming almost charming; those accidental (or otherwise) touches and smiles were starting to be frustrating in a whole new way.
With a sharp intake of breath, Sara stuttered out something along the lines of, "Yeah, ok, related, got it, I have to go," and slipped out of the lab, leaving a very confused Greg in her wake.
Ok, so that's that. I've got a vague idea of where to go from here, so review and tell me if you think I should keep on trucking or if I should stop beating a dead horse. Yes, I'm aware I'm speaking in metaphors. Review Please!