Disclaimer: All right everyone, sing along… "I don't own CSI, its characters, or anything associated with the show. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is the sole property of CBS and Alliance Atlantis." This document was written purely based on the fact that my muse will not stop nagging me. For the entertainment of you folks only.

Spoiler: Unbearable

A/N: This chapter describes Scott a lot better. Hopefully you'll agree with me that he's not such a bad guy. But still, we all know where Sara's heart belongs. And angst, it's still fun. It's a lot of fun.

Sara stood behind the folding table, and stared out into the crowd. There are a lot of people here.

It was a gorgeous day. A light breeze was blowing, enough to lift the top pages of the pamphlets covering the table in front of her, but not strong enough to send them scattering all over the lawn. The white tent across from her was filling up with people; a seminar was starting soon. The open tent behind her held refreshments, and there was not a shortage of people there, either.

Sara had dressed up for today, and was not used to the prickling of panty hose, or the airy feeling on her legs. Skirts are not for me.

"We were lucky," Ms. Ellen stated, interrupting Sara's thoughts. "The rain should hold off until late this evening. We should have a good turnout."

"I know."

"Sara, how do you feel?"

"Itchy. I don't like dressing up."

"No, dear," Ms. Ellen's voice held a touch of humor. "How do you feel… about this?" Ms. Ellen gestured to the scene around them.

"I'm not sure. Happy, I guess. A little nervous, too. What if something goes wrong?"

"I'm sure Lisa and Rose will handle everything on their end." Ms. Ellen let her words hang, allowing Sara to continue if she wished.

Sara studied the crowd, noticing a lot of families were here.

"I suppose it's good, that we're doing this. Maybe it'll help someone later. That they'll learn something today."

Ms. Ellen smiled at her. "Good. I'm glad you feel that way." And as she walked away, Sara felt as if she had just passed some unspoken pop quiz.

As the day lagged into the afternoon, Sara was growing restless. Manning the information table was pretty dull stuff. She perked up when she saw Greg coming up to her.

"Hey!" she called to him.

"Hi! How ya doing?"

"I'm bored to tears. I've done nothing but alternate between sitting and standing behind this table all day."

"Where's the bucket?"

"What bucket?"

"The donation bucket. You know, charity… donation… Nick and Warrick and I chipped in. Oh, and Catherine too. She was impressed when she found out – I'm sorry that the whole lab had to know though. But hey, Ecklie was happy about it, right?"

"Yeah," Sara said, remembering how surprised she was when Ecklie approached her and praised her on her "excellent volunteer work" and how it would "boost public opinion of the personnel in the lab". Whatever.

"Anyways, we all figured, if you can do charity stuff, we can too. So where is it?"

Sara was touched. "Here, I'll take it." She reached out and he handed her an envelope that clearly held some money within it. She put it in a small strongbox that was on the table, partially out of view. They would accept donations, but this was not meant to be a fundraiser.

"I'm going to go and get some free food. Do you want anything?" Greg asked.

"No, I'm all right."

"I'll be back and I'll hang out with you for a little bit. But then I've gotta go because I need to do laundry before work tonight."

Greg smiled and her and headed for the refreshment tent.

Sara wondered if Grissom would show up. After their altercation in the hallway, they hadn't spoken to one another. It was business as usual. She knew he had read the article, and that she was here today. Hell, the whole lab knew that she was here today.

Greg returned with a plate full of snacks and a large coffee. He sat on the ground while she sat in the metal folding chair, and they watched the crowd for a while as he ate.

"Mmulee phfit! Mreer kuffs doh mew buy!" Greg exclaimed with a mouth full of food.

Sara looked down at him, "What?"

Greg swallowed. "I said, 'Holy shit, here comes the new guy.'"

Sara panicked a little, and sure enough, there was Scott, walking towards her and Greg.

Sara stood as Scott approached the table.

"Hello, Sara," he said.

"Uh… hello, Scott." After his really bizarre and uncomfortable introduction a few nights ago, Sara had avoided Scott like the plague. He seemed to do likewise. Sara was grateful he was on swing with Nick, so she didn't have to interact with him.

He held out his hand, as if to shake hers, so when she reached out to him, she was surprised when he gently turned her hand palm up, placed a folded square piece of paper into it, and then wrapped her fingers over to contain the small package.

His touch lingered a little longer, and then he let her hand go. His hands were warm. She raised her head to meet his eyes, and he smiled gently at her.

She returned her focus to the paper, unfolding it. Surrounding what appeared to be a check, was a handwritten note, on white unlined paper.

I understand your need to help. I feel it as well. Please accept this as my way to assist you, so that you may assist others. – Scott

She read the check. It was made out to the shelter, for five hundred dollars. She was a little shocked. That was a lot of money.

She looked up again, and Scott was no longer at the table. She could see him in the distance, returning to his car. Her eyes followed him as he drove away.

A voice from her feet broke her vigil. "Hey, what was that all about?"

"He left a donation." Sara's voice sounded hollow.

"Yeah? Why? He isn't from around here."

"I dunno, Greg," Sara said, looking at the note again. "I dunno."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Grissom watched Sara from his car in the parking lot across the street. He was glad, for once, that he had hesitated. When he watched the tall man approaching the table, Grissom hadn't recognized him as Scott Bennington.

But when the man turned to depart, Grissom saw who he was, and the look on the man's face as well.

Grissom started his car, lost in thought, and drove away.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sara was off Saturday night, but on Sunday night she sought out Scott Bennington.

She found him in the room next to trace, intently focused on a computer screen.

"Excuse me, Scott?" Sara asked quietly.

He looked up from the computer and smiled at her. The blue light from the computer screen in the darker room highlighted the intense blue of his eyes, and Sara found herself momentarily lost in them.

"Hello, Sara."

"Uh… Look, I wanted to talk to you about your… donation. You didn't have to do that."

Scott's voice was kind. "I wanted to, Sara."

"And the shelter thanks you, tremendously. But you didn't need to do that, just to apologize for the other day." Sara was slightly defensive, she didn't want his pity.

Scott's eyes darkened as his face formed a slight frown.

"I didn't give you that donation to apologize, although in reality I do owe you one. It was extremely unprofessional for me to behave the way I did, and I am truly sorry for my actions."

He stood and faced her.

"Although I cannot deny that if I had it all to do over again, history would most likely repeat itself, due in fact to my great surprise in learning that you were here."

"Irregardless," he continued, eyes downcast, "it does not excuse my inappropriate behavior. Topics such as those are not meant to be discussed at one's place of work."

Sara gawked at the eloquence of this man. What is this guy, a college professor?

"As for my donation, I meant for you to have it, not as an apology, but as a show of my support for your efforts. I understand your need to prevent others from suffering as you have."

"I am not going to deny that your case had a profound effect on me. I was young and innocent to the darkness of society, as well as to the strength of mankind that is born out of adversity. It was an eye-opening experience, and it helped shape my career."

With this he smiled that same soft smile at her, making Sara shift nervously as she leaned against the doorway.

"At home, I volunteer at a different kind of shelter. My organization targets men, aiding them in their quest to control their emotions, and helping them learn to cope with the stresses in their lives. So, in reality, we share the same cause."

Sara didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to such openness. So she just looked at him, and he looked back at her. They stood there for a while, saying nothing, getting a feel for one another.

This was getting awkward. Sara was just about ready to say, "Well, I gotta go…" when he stepped towards her, entirely too close for comfort.

"Have dinner with me Friday night."

Sara's heart started to pound. It had been a long time since a man had asked her out on a date.

She looked down at the floor, breaking eye contact. Her voice was stumbling, unsure.

"I don't know…"

He was persistent. "Please. Let me do this for you. Consider it as an apology for my callous behavior."

Sara was wavering, and Scott must have sensed it, because he gently grabbed her hand.

"Just say yes," he said, his voice deepening.

"Okay… yes" she agreed quietly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sara wound up enjoying her date with Scott on Friday night, much to her surprise.

He had the night off from work, and had picked her up around six o'clock. He had shown up with a bouquet of snow white daisies, their yellow faces glowing with the contrast, and she had to admit that they brightened up her apartment.

He had made reservations at a small Italian restaurant a few blocks off the Strip. The food was excellent, and Sara was pleased that he had accommodated her vegetarian needs, even though she hadn't told him about them. I wonder if he asked anyone at work.

It was a calm night, so they went for a short walk. The conversation between them was easy, as Scott tended to ask her questions about unrelated things, and then continue with stories about himself. He dropped her off at nine, giving her time to get changed and get ready for work.

"May I see you again?" he asked politely.

"Sure," Sara replied. "You may see me again at work tomorrow." She smiled at him, teasing him a bit.

He grinned at her scoff. "That would be lovely, but I would prefer to see you again outside of work."

Sara faltered. She didn't know what the dating policies were with regards to work; she had never looked them up when she and Grissom… well, never mind that. Plus, she wasn't sure about this whole dating thing.

"Relationships between co-workers are not mentioned in the union handbook, nor are they mentioned in the policies and procedures documents for the lab, Sara. This leads me to believe that it is neither acceptable nor unacceptable behavior."

Scott grinned devilishly and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Yes, I checked."

Sara flirted back at him, "And what if I say no?"

"I will wait a few days and ask again. I am nothing if not persistent, Madame."

"Well then," Sara said haughtily, matching his tone, "I guess I will accept your offer."

Sara paused before continuing, thinking of her already full schedule.

"It will have to wait until next Friday, though. My weeks are full with work, the shelter and my class at the university."

"Then next Friday it shall be. I thank you for the honor of your company this evening, and look forward to spending time with you again." He gave a short bow and Sara had to laugh at him.

"Are you some knight or something?"

"If milady allows it, I shall be anything she desires." His gaze was heated and Sara backed off in a wave of shyness, opening her door, ready to end this before it got too… involved.

"Okay, well, g'night!" And Sara closed the door in Scott's face.

She heard him chuckle on the other side of the door as he walked down her hallway. She sat down on her sofa, her head in her hands, her heart pounding.

What the hell am I going to do about this?