Chapter Seven: Case Closed

The motor's humming was the only sound that was heard on the drive back to the police station. Greg wished that he could say sorry or at least try to make amends with Sara, but he found it extremely difficult to say something clever and un-cliché let alone be able to form words. His mind was troubled as well as his heart. He would give anything just be on good terms with Sara again.

Right when the sun had finally set and there was a light dark blue hue about in the sky, they pulled into the station's parking lot. Greg cleared his throat unconsciously and grabbed his kit before taking his seat belt off. Sara, on the other hand, hastily took her seat belt off and grabbed her kit and hopped out of the car quickly without waiting for Greg. Lagging behind slightly, Greg had to power-walk to catch up with his partner who was trying her best to make him feel no better than pond scum.

When they reached the door, Greg, out instinct, reached for the door's handle so Sara could go in first. But instead, Sara snapped, "I got it," and rudely brushed past Greg and opened the door only for herself and marched in.

Greg just swallowed the intentional rudeness from Sara and dealt with it. He wasn't going to get angry at her; he supposed he deserved it in a sense. After all, Greg did end the happiness she had encountered in a while. "Ignorance is bliss" like Thomas Gray put it so many years ago. He entered the station and followed Sara up to the counter, who was asking which interrogation room Walts was in.

"In interrogation room four, ma'am," the officer said looking at his chart. "He's been lawyered up though so don't plan on getting too much out of him."

Sara nodded curtly and grabbed one of the visitor tags the officer laid down on the counter for them. "Thanks for the heads up."

Greg grabbed the one tag left and clipped it on his navy blue jacket. "Who's his lawyer?"

The slim officer laughed softly, "Bentley, Richard Bentley."

Sara let out a muffled, raspy huff. "Great! With that guy as his lawyer, we'll be lucky if we even hear Steven say 'hello.'"

"Well, I had a case with Bentley once," Greg stated as they started to walk to room four, "and he usually just talks his way out of his client being interrogated. So if we just happen to push Steven's buttons subtly without his lawyer having any idea what we're implying then," Greg adjusted his kit's strap. "Then, we might have a chance at Steven spilling it while Bentley's bewildered."

Sara didn't say anything right away, but Greg could tell that she was pondering what he had just said. When they made it to the door, Sara stopped and looked at Greg. "It might just work."

Greg smiled at her slightly and opened the door for her without Sara objecting. She brushed past him and entered the murky room silently with Greg following her on her heels.

"Like I said before Lieutenant," Bentley said calmly, "Unless you have eyewitnesses saying that they saw my client in the victim's room prior to the murder, you have nothing only that my client had come across the victim in the stairwell."

"Wrong," Sara stated bluntly as she heard the lawyer's rebuttal, "we have your client's fingerprint— in blood, no less— on the sheet that was wrapped around Chris Johnson's neck that was used as a makeshift noose."

Bentley just smiled up at Sara and straightened his tie slightly. "The fingerprint your team found was a partial which could've matched anybody with the same pattern as Mr. Walts's." His egotistical air was already suffocating Greg and he hadn't been in the room for more than a minute.

Sara just forced a smile back at the arrogant lawyer, "Yes, it was partial, but it matched more than fifteen matching characters that match Steven's prints, which makes it a match by law."

This time Bentley just laughed as if this was all a joke. "Please, like I told the Lieutenant here," he gestured to the officer, "that all you have is my client passing the victim's corpse in the stairwell and touching the body."

"Then that's tampering with evidence," Greg said confidently. "Plus, if you're client did come across the body, why didn't he report that when we questioned him?" Greg took a seat at the stainless steel table and stared directly at Steven, especially at his healing bruised eye. "How did you get that, huh Steven?"

"Don't answer that, Steven," his lawyer whispered forcibly and then sat up even straighter and stared Greg down. "He was afraid to report the murder because he knew he would be the next target of the killer."

Sara let out a cry of exasperation and disbelief. "Oh really? That the killer was going to come after him next?" She walked over to the table and leaned against it, "No, I think he didn't want to make himself a suspect right away, especially since his eye was swollen."

"Steve," Greg started softly, "we have enough evidence to put you at the crime scene and with motive."

Steven's eyes, which had been staring intently at the top of the table, had now shot up fearfully and looked at Greg. "How?" His voice quivered just thinking about it.

Greg grimaced slightly and looked at him as if it wasn't obvious. "We know you're secret and connected the dots when we found your journal in Chris's room."

His lawyer bent towards Steven and asked quickly, surprise and irritation was evident, "What's he talking about?"

"He doesn't know, Steven?" Greg pressed on not wanting to pressure to answer his lawyer and listen to Greg to dissipate at all. That's what needed, pressure so Walts would finally crack under the burden of it.

His lawyer again breathed heavily into Steven's ear, "What's he talking about?"

"We saw what Chris read and what he had highlighted. When did you notice it was missing, Steve, or did you notice that he was dodging you every time he saw you walking towards him?" Greg continued asking him. His heart was racing unusually; he felt the adrenaline pumping because he knew that he was in control of the entire situation.

"Steven, answer me! What is he talking about?" Bentley continued to ask more forcibly.

By this time, Steven was looking as if he was going to lose it. His face was contorted out of fear and disbelief.

"What happened when you approached him that night in his room, Steve? Did he attack you or did you go in there with the knife behind your back knowing that it had to end before anyone found out about you." Greg asked in a dangerous sort of tone even surprising himself slightly by its crazed character.

"No," Steven finally yelled out in exasperation and fright. "I mean yes!"

Bentley looked as if he wasn't hearing correctly, "Stop, don't say another word."

"No, I have to!" Steven said hysterically with tears starting to form in his eyes. He turned to look at Greg now, "I didn't go there wanting to kill him. When he saw it was me at the door, he tried to shut the door on me, but I stuck my foot in the doorframe to stop that. So, I shoved my way in while asking him what his problem was." He stopped and was really to starting cry.

"What happened next, Steve?" Greg asked gently, not wanting to rush him because he was obviously mourning what had happened.

Steven looked up at the ceiling as if begging for this all to end. Again, Bentley tried to intervene and stop him from answering any further, but Walts just waved him off.

"He looked at me as if I was disgusting or something and told me to get out. I didn't so he started to beat me up." He paused again as he roughly wiped at his tears, "I finally fought him off, but then he just started to threaten me by exposing that I was gay. I couldn't have that so I pulled out my pocket knife and told him that that wasn't going to happen. When he saw I had a knife he backed off even more and fell on his bed, he said wasn't going to if I just put the knife away. I started to but then he rushed me again!" At this, he started to cry even harder and his words were starting to become slurred.

Greg felt a lump in his throat start to form; he felt sorry for Steve, he killed the one person who held his heart.

"I wasn't anticipating it so I just held the knife out and he ran into it and fell back on his bed with blood oozing out his stomach. Then he started to scream out for help, well I went over there to help him, but he just kicked me away screaming that I just stabbed him. I didn't know what came over me, I just stabbed him again and he fell off his bed with more blood just going everywhere." He slammed his fists against the table, "I don't remember anymore. I'm sorry, but I don't—I just blacked out at that point."

Sara finally cleared her throat, "We're going to need you to write your confession now."

Steve didn't respond to her, he just crumbled then. "I killed him and I loved him so much!"

Greg slowly got out of his chair and walked over to the Lieutenant and whispered, "Are we going to cut him a deal at all? After all, it wasn't premeditated and he did confess."

The Lieutenant shook his head, "I don't think so, Greg."

Greg nodded his head with morose for Steve. "Alright then," he said as he walked out of interrogation room and leaned against the opposite wall, waiting for Sara to come out. He waited for a couple of seconds until Sara finally emerged, closing the door behind her.

"Way to go, Sanders." She said in flat sort of way. Sara must have felt that I stole the case right out from under her. At that, she started to walk back over to the counter and hand her visitor tag back in.

Feeling even more down, Greg practically walked slower than ever and time seemed to be even more sluggish. He handed his tag back in and the officer looked at him strangely.

"No luck?" He asked with a frown on his face.

"Actually, we got a conviction," Greg said in a monotonous voice as he started to head back to the SUV, which he could tell that Sara was already in and waiting for him.

As soon as he hopped in, she barely even waited for him to close his door before she tore off back to the lab. Again, silence prevailed, but this time Greg didn't even bother trying to think something up to break it. He wanted to brood and be sulky for a while since he rarely ever did; he was a nice guy and nice guys did brood.

When Sara parked the car finally, Greg just grabbed his bag and got out. This time he wasn't even going to bother waiting for Sara since she wasn't going to forgive him for a long time. What's the point if you're already losing, right?

He stalked through the lab passing by his fellow colleagues and friends, who actually stopped and stared at him as the passed by. He must've looked pissed off and it was no question that he was. It was as if he made it back to the locker room in record time because he got there quicker than anytime before. He didn't waste anytime thinking about his speed, he just headed directly for his locker and started to take his CSI jacket off hastily. A minute later, he heard the locker room door squeak open and less than a few seconds later, Sara turned the corner and opened her locker.

Tension was evident because it was radiating from both of them rapidly and rested between them uncomfortably. Every so often, Greg would sneak a sharp glance over at Sara who would be switching out certain objects, like her navy blue issued jacket for her street one. She was finished in a matter of seconds and looked over at Greg.

"See you tomorrow," Sara said in her regular tone as if nothing had happened between them throughout the entire case.

Appalled and slightly more pissed off by that, Greg laughed, "Whatever."

She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around and stared him down. "What?"

Greg stopped staring blankly in his dark locker and turned to look at her. "I said 'whatever.'" He annunciated each syllable crisply.

Sara then started to laugh at his response, apparently not taking him seriously. "Okay, right. I'll see you tomorrow, Greg!"

"What's wrong with you?" Greg asked exasperatedly, his anger was still coursing throughout his body and he wasn't in the mood for her new and improved attitude.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You're the one acting as if I did something to you!" Sara yelled in turn as she again spun around and started walking towards him.

Greg slammed his locker shut and leaned his back against it. "You were the one giving me the cold shoulder all today, practically crucifying me for telling you what a prick Rogers was!"

She looked at the ground and then back up at Greg. He could see that the matter still hadn't healed over even though her coldness to Rogers that day was out of revenge. Her brown eyes that usually held a stern seriousness about them held pain. Unlike she usually would in a situation like this, she didn't reply or even stare him down as if he were a rat.

Feeling guilty about his rash and belligerent act against her, Greg cleared his throat and whispered, "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

She shook her head slowly, "No, don't apologize. You're right; I have treated you pretty badly today and really every other day on this case as well." Sara looked back at the ground again, "I'm sorry."

Greg huffed and shoved himself lightly off of his locker and cautiously walked over to Sara until she was right in front of him. He didn't quite know what he was going to do; he wasn't great in these situations, especially when the girl was emotional. For the first time in all the years he knew Sara, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her. She must have been shocked and just as surprised by this as he was himself. But after a few seconds, she too hugged him back.

They just stood there hugging each other in silence listening to the smooth breathing of the other. But soon after, Greg pulled away and looked at someone's anonymous locker. "Again, I'm sorry for yelling at you."

She laughed slightly, "I deserved it." And then Sara started to fiddle with her hands by wringing them. "Hey Greg," he looked up at her, "that one night when you told me…"

"Please, let's not relive it since it must be embarrassing for you to know that a geek like me likes you," Greg laughed feeling his cheeks burn slightly and again dropping his head.

Sara didn't say anything right away, probably contemplating the situation. "Greg, I don't think it's embarrassing at all," she stated softly. "Actually, after thinking about it, I can't believe I've always avoided thinking about you liking me for so long."

Hearing this, Greg's head shot up to look at her properly. She had a goofy smile on her face, "What?" He asked obviously believing he misunderstood her.

"Sanders just shut up," she whispered playfully and closed the gap between them and kissed him softly.

Amazed and totally shocked, Greg didn't automatically, but the longer the kiss lasted the more he started to believe what was happening.

Finally Sara pulled back leisurely and looked at him smiling faintly. Greg was already smiling and then something caught his attention. "I thought the guy was supposed to kiss the girl?"

"Don't act sexist, Greggo!" Sara replied as he started to lean in for another kiss.

This kiss was much more passionate than there first kiss for a number of reasons, but the main one because they both finally accepted what they both had been denying for years now that this was their turn at love.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Greg's eyes were burned by the bright sunlight rays that were hitting his defenseless tired eyes. His alarm clock kept making its annoying alarm until Greg finally got irritated with it enough and slapped it hard enough that it felt on the ground at stopped.

His heart started aching considerably when he remembered what he had been dreaming of. "Sara," he softly whispered just thinking about the kiss that he was so sure had been real— he could still feel the warm kiss on his lips as if it had just happened. The thought just seared his heart to pieces.

Grudgingly, Greg rubbed at his eyes to try to wake up further, but the attempt was futile. Finally, he swung his legs off of the bed and felt the cold wooden floor beneath his feet.

"Ugh, Greg go back to bed," someone muttered behind him. Greg looked quickly over his shoulder seeing Sara on his other side of the bed.

Bewildered and utterly at a lost, Greg looked all over his room. He found certain objects that weren't there before, many of them being pictures of them together. Suddenly, memories flooded his mind and he finally remembered that he and Sara had now been together for a year and that his dream wasn't just a dream after all— it was how they came to be as a couple.

Smiling brightly, Greg laid back down and wrapped a arm around his Sara and whispered happily in her ear, "I love you, Sara."

She nuzzled her face into his neck and whispered back to him sleepily, but genuinely, "I love you too, Sanders. Now shut up so I can get some more sleep!"

Greg laughed quietly when he heard her response. "Alright," he cooed softly after he kissed her forehead tenderly.

He watched her fall back asleep in his arms and soon after she did, he too fell into a deep sleep dreaming of them together like they were now but hardly wishing for a single thing to change.

Author's Notes:

Well, I hope you all liked the ending to the story! I hope it wasn't too mushy or predictable and if it was please tell me. I apologize for not updating it sooner, but with all the happened at the end of my summer and then school starting back up again, it was hard updating all of my stories, especially this one since it had case and not just an angsty love conflict. Well, I just want to thank everyone who read this story and everyone who reviewed. It means a lot to a writer to know that people are actually enjoying their story let alone reading it! So again, I'm very grateful that you all stuck around and read it because it was the main reason why it's here. You all rock and I will try to write another Greg/Sara story—that's if you all want one! Lol!