The color red made her feel alive; it made her want to smile because when she wore red, smiles looked good on her. Maroon made her eyes look as if they were on fire, some extra charge there waiting to be sought and analyzed. Muted brick red was the color that she wore when she wanted to feel seductive and feminine. Burgundy was lush and rich and when she wore it, she loved to saunter down the hall, just because she felt good doing it.

Mauve was her sad color and made her look drawn out and forlorn. Mauve was in her wardrobe in heavy rotation for the past few weeks. So was black, and gray. Black felt like home on her and always made her seem even more long and lean than she already was. Dark colors weren't as threatening as lighter colors wore, she could blend in, she could fade in the darkness of smoke and charcoal.

Gray, smoky and rich was never a favorite color of hers. Her freckles even looked sickly in the color but she wore it anyway, hoping that it didn't accentuate anything on her; there were times she wanted to be invisible. During those times she were muted browns and sands and creams.

Little did she know that she stood out to him in any color. Neon green would have highlighted her just as an outfit of pure, desolate midnight would have. Fluorescent pink would have been as telling to him as slate was. He didn't tend to see Sara in color; he saw color in Sara.

From the light in her eyes, he could place her as a blue or a green, sometimes a shiny red exuding from her gaze. He heard her smile in brilliant purple and felt her lingering touches in the softest of oranges.

But she wore color, and she felt color and she tried not to live color, but she did.

Mahogany ropes wrapped around her clutching jade or opal or sea foam... olive pants with khaki belts and rust shirts... clashing, but a cacophony of sensation in her wardrobe, in her eyes.

Sara shunned green, thought it made her look sickly and overbearing. Grissom loved her in green-dark, rich forest green, light mint, pistachio, sage... yes, Grissom thought she looked spectacular in green. Then again, he didn't find that there was much that she didn't look wonderful in.

But green made her think of infinity, endless plains of fresh grass, trees and life. Green frightened her because there was no end to it; she didn't like green.

Color in general began to annoy her. Sara retreated into the sanctuary of black, wrapped herself in anonymity and stayed there for weeks on end. It was easier to ebb and flow alone in the dark than it was to do the same in buttercup or rose.

Until one morning she awoke and felt that turquoise was a nice change of pace. Her top had been white and she adorned a brash blue blazer; it had a stunning effect on her. The highlights in her hair screamed for attention, as did the color of her eyes. Turquoise wrapped around her, a new acquaintance that she wanted to get to know more of.

Next she tried violet. It wasn't a bad hue on her really, but it was too soft for her liking, made her seem supple and rounded. Pink did the same, but Sara couldn't help but admire how soft, baby pink licked her skin and made her glow. When she wanted to glow, really illuminate, she wore soft yellows and muted oranges, adoring a sunrise on her body which was only ever outshined by her smile.

But while Sara began to have a steady relationship with the normal range of colors, she fell in love with blue, with midnight and cornflower and peacock and sapphire and sky. Somehow, the cotton felt different in her hands, the blue heavier, lovelier. Blue made her cheeks look pretty pink and made her eyes seem inviting and friendly. Even while listless, blue made her seem animated and in control.

He saw her in blue and saw her fully alive, fully wanton, completely and totally in love.

Blue looked amazing on her but the blue of his eyes looked even more amazing, wrapped around the delicate curves of her body, lingering there until she was gone from his sight.