"Any chance this is a drug-induced hallucination?" Greg smirked as he stared at Sara dressed in a charcoal grey suit and pink top.

She grinned back at him. "Very funny, Greg. Just because I'm in a dress for the first time in forever is no reason for you to act like a junior high kid," she responded. "I just want you to know that the person who invented pantyhose should suffer eternal torment. I hate these things," she complained as he tugged at her leg with a grimace.

"So, can I ask why you are all dressed up? Or is it just to impress me?" Greg asked with a wink.

"Grissom and I are going to testify at a parole hearing. Remember the Pamela Adler case from a few years back? Her attacker is set to be released from custody in a month, so we're going to try and keep him locked up for a few more years," Sara explained as she turned to look for Grissom. "We're supposed to leave in a few minutes, and I don't see him yet."

She headed out the door to pace the hallways again and ran smack into him as she turned the corner. As she stepped back, she caught her breath at his appearance. She fought to come up with a greeting that made sense, but she was unable to put together a coherent sentence. It was only after taking a deep breath that she realized Grissom hadn't said anything to her yet either.

"So, are you ready to go?" she finally asked with a smile.

"Uh, yeah," he answered. "Sara, you look really nice."

"Thanks," she said. "I wanted to make a good impression. I really want this guy to stay locked up. I got a letter from Pam's husband last week. He said he'll be at the hearing too. He wants the committee to hear about her condition. She's had no change in the last four years. It's just heartbreaking."

"Well, hopefully, they will listen to us," Grissom responded, "But I wouldn't get my hopes up. Unfortunately, her attacker has done his time. The DA is really going out on a limb to try this motion."

Sara silently prayed that Grissom's prediction wouldn't come true.

It was late evening as Grissom and Sara left the building. Sara walked quickly, trying to expend some of the built up energy that she had developed upon hearing that Pamela Adler's attacker would be free to walk the streets again. The smug look on his face as the parole committee announced their decision had made her want to scream. She could not believe that they had not listened to any of the testimony. It was so completely wrong.

"Hey, Sara, slow down," Grissom panted as he jogged to catch up with her. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

Sara stopped, turned and looked at him with such a fierce glare, that the small smile he had on his face disappeared. "What are you smiling about?" she cried. "Didn't you see him in there? He's just going to go off and do this to another woman. Somewhere out there is a woman who is going to be attacked, raped and murdered by this guy. See, I was right when I told you that it was a rotten system that rewarded the criminal when his victim is too tough to die. Because she's still breathing, and, doing nothing else I might add, he gets to walk free. It's not right." By this time, she was yelling at him.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Look you've had a long and stressful day. Remember when I told you that you needed a release, a way to get away from this. Well, now is the time. You should not go home and stew. Why don't you let me take you out for a bite to eat. You can vent at me all you want, then when it's time for you to go home, it will be completely out of your system." Grissom hoped she would take him up on the offer. He was afraid that she would do something irrational if she were left alone. This case had affected her when she was trying to solve it, and now it was back to resurrect all of the demons that she had buried.

"I don't know," Sara answered. "I don't know if I'm going to be very good company." She thought for a moment. "Well, it does sound better than ordering takeout, so I guess so."

Grissom took her to a small Italian restaurant on the west side of the city. The candlelit tables were covered with red checked cloths, and the waiters looked very old-world in their white shirts and black pants. Sara felt herself begin to slowly relax as the wine she drank settled through her veins. Grissom was completely different from the man she knew at work. Here he was charming and attentive, and Sara could fell herself falling for him all over again.

He drove her back to her apartment, and they walked down her hallway in silence. As they stopped at her door, Sara turned. "Thanks for dinner, Grissom. It really did help. I do feel a lot better." She stopped as she stared into his eyes as she realized what he was about to do.

In Sara's mind, the kiss seemed to go on forever, but in reality, it was just seconds before Grissom abruptly lifted his head and stared at her in shock. Recognizing that nothing she could say would help the situation; she quietly unlocked her door and let herself in. Once she was in her apartment, Sara stared off into space, wondering which one of them would be the first to pretend this never happened.

The End