"I need the night off tomorrow," Sara said briskly as she walked into Grissom's office, "is that okay with you?" He looked up from his paperwork.
"Of course, Sara," Grissom replied softly, "you deserve some time off. It's nice to see that you're taking a break." Sara rolled her eyes and sighed angrily.
"Don't patronize me, Grissom," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. He frowned slightly.
"I…I never meant to…" he started. Sara quickly interrupted.
"You never mean to do anything, do you Grissom? It just happens, right? You're too scared to take risks and you end up hurting the people around you. You're such a hypocrite you know that? I mean, why don't you go get a life, go touch people without 'wearing your latex gloves'." Grissom looked stunned. When he finally spoke, his voice came out as a whisper.
"Does that mean you-"
"That's right, Grissom," Sara interrupted, "it's called one-way glass. I watched your whole 'confession'." Her voice softened. "Why couldn't you just say it to my face?"
"I…I was afraid," he stuttered.
"Oh, of course!" Sara cried, angry once again, "let's forget about Sara's feelings because we're afraid. That makes me feel so much better!" She stalked angrily out of her boss's office before he could reply.
The sound of loud house music hit Sara's ears as she walked through the doors of Insomnia, a popular club just off the strip. She was wearing tight leather pants, a silver halter-top, and black stilettos and felt extremely stupid, coming in on her own. Then she remembered the stunned expression she had witnessed the other day on Grissom's face. It was her desire to see him shaken like that again that drove her into the depths of the loud, energetic room.
Sara slid onto a bar stool and ordered a gin and tonic. She took a few sips of her drink, looking around casually.
"Hey," said a voice by her ear. She turned to see a tanned, muscular man with brown hair who looked about her age.
"Uh, hey," She replied, "Do I know you?"
"No, honey. I just can't stand the sight of a pretty girl sitting all by herself," the man said, sliding onto the bar stool beside her, "My name's Jake, by the way. What's yours?"
"Sara," She said with as much confidence as she could muster.
"Oh I see. Well, Sara, do you wanna dance?"
"Sure," She answered, smiling slightly. Jake was pretty hot, and it was refreshing to get this much attention from a complete stranger.
Jake led her onto the dance floor and she started grinding against him in time to the music. The old Sara would have been uncomfortable with this, but the new Sara barely noticed.
After dancing for about ten minutes, Sara was starting to get tired. She turned her head towards Jake and spoke into his ear.
"I'm getting kinda thirsty. You wanna buy me a drink?" She asked flirtatiously.
"Of course," he said, taking her hand and leading her through the crowds and back to the bar. He ordered two rum-and-cokes.
"So," Sara said as she sipped her drink, "What do you do, like, for work?"
"I'm a personal trainer," he replied, smiling conceitedly.
"Oh, so that's why you're so built!" She said perkily, poking his abs. Jake was hot, and she was physically attracted to him, but she felt no emotional connection with him. That made Jake perfect for her purposes.
"So since you're all athletic and everything, I was wondering if you could clear something up for me," Sara said, batting her eyelashes at him, " is it true that you burn 360 calories in one hour of sex?"
"I've never really been sure about that one," He answered, smiling back at her. Sara put her drink down.
"I'm a forensic scientist, actually, and when we're not sure about something we…conduct experiments," Sara said, leaning close to Jake's face. He leaned towards her and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
"C'mon," he said, taking her hand, "let's grab a taxi. We can 'conduct experiments' at my place."
The new Sara followed Jake through the club while the old Sara, lost and forgotten, watched them leave.
TBC