Disclaimers: characters borrowed for entertainment purposes.

The graveyard crew had just closed a grisly multiple homicide case less than an hour ago. Grabbing another steaming hot cup of his Blue Hawaiian coffee in the break room, Greg listened to the buzz of activity behind him in silence. As he sat down at the table, he watched Sara pass through the hall as she giggled at something Nick said. Normally, he would be like a puppy at her heels, but today he had something else brewing in his mind.

Greg never wore a watch, even after he was promoted to Level 1 CSI with more responsibilities, not that being a lab tech didn't have its own share. Part of the boy in him who would never grow up. He glanced up at the clock on the wall above the coffee machine. 10:31am. The case had been closed and shift was over so it made sense to go home and
crawl in bed. He finished his coffee and stood up to make his way to the locker room to grab his things and leave.

"Hey Sara. Got any plans for tonight?" he asked as he shrugged his jacket on, and she walked in a few steps behind him.

"Not that I know of. Unless going to bed counts."

"Can I join you?" his subconscious asked of her. "Good idea. Was just on my way there myself."

"Guess I'll see you when shift starts tonite."

She smiled and left him standing alone in front of his open locker. "I'll see you long before then."

Sara slapped at the alarm clock on her nightstand. Opening one eye, she noticed that it was only 6pm and her alarm wouldn't go off for another half hour. She heard the annoying noise again.

Realizing it was the doorbell, she crawled out of bed and went to answer the door. Peering through the peephole in her door, she saw someone who looked like Greg, but at the same time didn't. Why would he be here at this hour? Opening the door, she raised a brow at his appearance as her eyes trailed from his head to toes.

"What's the occasion, Greg?" supressing a giggle.

"It's Halloween and we are taking you out for a good time because rumor has it you've never done it before."

"'We'? As in who? You know, don't answer that because I'm afraid to know."

He feigned a hurt look and entered her apartment upon her invitation, handing her the bouquet of blood red roses. "Damn, if she doesn't look sexy in those black satin pjs."

Sara could feel his intense gaze on her. While she knew he was subconsciously undressing her with his bedroom eyes, she had to admit that she enjoyed the attention he lavished on her, even if she rarely if ever let on that she did.

"So, Gothboy," she whispered breathily.

Did he hear her correctly? She didn't usually sound so wanton around him even if they were the best of friends.

"What's my part in this...whatever it is you're conspiring?" She raised an eyebrow at him, along with her signature pursed grin.

"Get dressed and you'll find out."

Shaking her head, Sara made her way into the bedroom. She wasn't the girly type but she did have a few items in her closet that would qualify. It wasn't everyday she went on a date with Greg Sanders so she planned to make the most of it. Still, it seemed a bit odd to her to go on a date when they were supposed to be at work in an hour. Yet she had long since learned not to question his motives, however questionable they may be.

Donning a black flowy chiffon top with sheer bell sleeves and a pair of black pants, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. A bit of mauve lipstick was the only accessory she felt was necessary. Suddenly feeling nervous, she smoothed out nonexistant wrinkles from her clothes.

"This is stupid. It's just Greg, for gawd's sake. What can possibly happen? Alot...and you know you want it to."

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and met Greg in the living room. It was strange but even when he was younger and blasted heavy metal in the DNA lab until the windows should have shattered, he had always had a hint of professionalism. Back then she would have expected someone dressed like the man sitting on her couch right now. Not that she was complaining but she did prefer the sexier older boy-man. Black eyeliner and leather suited him quite well, especially with his long bleached hair.

Sara grabbed her purse and led him out of her apartment as they made
their way to his car.

"Do I get to ask what we're doing tonight?"

"No, that would spoil the fun."

There was a part of her that was still asking the nagging question of shouldn't they be at work instead of playing on the town? Not that she was a workaholic but she did have bills to pay and skipping work wasn't very mature of her.

When they reached the Strip, she half-expected him to drag her into some loud club. The Greg of yesteryears most certainly would. Instead, she was surprised to find them waiting in line at a casino hotel, of all places, to go on the famous Haunted Vegas tour.

"How much more kitchsy can you get?" she wondered to herself.

It turned out to be rather fascinating, especially as a CSI, even if she didn't believe in that kind of thing. Later they stopped at the Voodoo Lounge at the Rio Hotel for drinks. Going out once in awhile really wasn't that bad, given her company of choice. It was rather fun and she'd have to do this again sometime...soon.

Being the designated driver, she took Greg back to her apartment. He could sleep off his hangover he would have in the morning and then later go home to his place.

Greg had never kissed her before, but all the way up the stairs to her apartment, he couldn't keep his hands or lips off her. The kiss in the parking lot that broke the ice left them both wanting more. The feel of his hands, his lips, his skin, his breath on her body was the most spine-tingling effect she had ever felt and she didn't want it to end. As she snuggled up to the warm body in her bed, she decided she could definitely get used to this kind of drug.

Her alarm went off at 6:30 p.m. Reaching over to press the button, she rolled out of bed to get dressed for work. She could have sworn she felt a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. But nothing was there. Very weird. Even weirder was the fact that she knew she had slept with Greg Sanders for the first time last night. Yet he wasn't in her bed and she didn't take him for the type that would leave before she woke. Sara also noticed that she was in her
pjs, which she vaguely recalled being tossed somewhere in the bathroom the night before.

Shaking her head, she made her way to the closet and dressed for the evening. She grabbed her purse and was out the door, en route to the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

When shift started, the graveyard crew had congregated in the conference room to receive assignments. Sara was sitting across the table facing Grissom who stopped midsentence to give someone a blank stare, which she knew could mean a number of things. She followed his gaze which landed on Greg, oddly enough. Her jaw slowly dropped as she took in the details that lay before her. Greg Sanders looked like a mirror image of the dream she had that afternoon. Was it a dream?
Black eyeliner, black tshirt and pants.

"Happy Halloween?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence that was focused on him.

Sara found that she couldn't keep her eyes off of him and barely registed any of Grissom's words other than that she was to accompany Greg per usual to a DB on the Strip. As she walked out of the conference room, making her way to the locker room, she could have sworn she felt his lips on her neck and his hot breath on her skin. Scientist that she was, for one night Sara was more than willing to believe in the paranormal, only if Greg was involved. And there was something she had heard somewhere about a silver cord tying soulmates together... Probably more paranormal bunk. Who knows?