The Finishing Off: When One Starts Something, One Must Complete It. (First Dates are Overrated, Anyway.)

1. In Which Sara Seduces Greg

…………..

Falls chronologically an hour and a half after 'Every Flame.'

For missusmesser, the requested 'Finishing Off.'

Part one of two.

…………..

Greg Sanders was a patient man.

However, in the last hour and a half, since his lips had left Sara's, he had become annoyingly impatient. He leaned against the end of the row of lockers, grinning madly at the brunette at the other end of the room.

"Ready?" She turned at his voice, and smiled shyly.

"Look, Greg, I-"

"I just figured, you'd, umm, you know, want to talk about feelings or something, get all girly and estrogen filled." He his smile faltered as he became suddenly interested in the floor. She closed her locker, then the gap between them. He raised his gaze back to her face when he realized he was staring at her shoes, inches away from his. "I wouldn't want you to not have any estrogen, I didn't mean that in a negative way, I just, well, you know how girls get- well, I guess you don't, seeing as you are one, but I've seen this before, and you know, Dr. Phil says that women and men would relate better if they let their emotions out, and I really want to not screw this up, well, I mean, I like you with the estrogen, you know, it's kinda nice, what I mean is, umm, I like your estrogen."

"Greg." Sara was mere inches away, he could feel her breath on his neck. Oh god. Suddenly his jeans felt snug. He must. Not. Blow this.

"What?" His voice was back to the hoarse whisper again. He watched in awe as her eyes darkened a few shades. His gaze dropped to her lips, and he instantly knew that it was a bad move. All his body heat settled in his belly, all the blood in his body rushed to the crotch of his jeans, which were becoming uncomfortable. He had to not mess this up. This was his one chance. Oh god.

He was jolted back to reality when she slipped her index finger into the side of his belt and pulled his hips flush with hers.

Whoa.

"Sar-" His breath hitched suddenly as her lips grazed along his jawbone. She stepped carefully around his foot, zipper of her fly dragging lightly across the thigh of the front of his leg. "Good God." He whispered, her hand had begun to drag after her body, she was still moving, slowly. Her delicate fingers came to rest around the soft leather of his belt, her lips paused at his ear.

"First dates are overrated, Gregory." Her breath was warm in his ear. She took his earlobe briefly between her lips, running we tongue along the soft skin in a tantalizing manner that nearly had him come in his pants like a fourteen year old kid.

"Umm." He turned his head to face her, jaw dropped in astonishment at her seductive display. She reached up, and pulled his head forward, meeting his lips in a delicate kiss. His words were coming back to him slowly. "They're for people who don't really know each other, so they can validate the physical intimacy that ensures as soon as the check is taken away." He smiled, genuinely. "People like, us, Sara Jane, we have no use for formalities." He touched his forehead to hers. He cradled her face in his hands, and he shivered as he felt hers come to rest on the waistband of his jeans, slipping under the hem of his shirt.

She stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed him again. She leaned against him, and he retreated slightly, his jeans were still uncomfortably tight, and he really really really didn't want to blow this. He pulled back from her kiss, and dropped his hands, bending to pick up his bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

"Which one of us has a cleaner apartment, then?" He threw her a lazy grin, and tried not to be distracted by the swell of her lips. She returned his smile, and raised her keys.

"I'll drive."

……………

Sara felt the heat in her abdomen return as she stopped at the third red light in about sixty feet. Not because of the red light, although that was starting to piss her off. Greg had left his Denali at the lab, and was currently humming along with the crap that was seeping out of her radio. It wasn't his humming that turned her on, though. He was nonchalantly tracing nonsense shapes on her thigh, and now that she had stopped him traffic, his fingers roamed higher, inches away from the furnace that had moved into her body.

She chanced a glance at him, but he was looking out the window.

Greg Sanders was a patient man.

He could wait through six more lights. That was it, though. Three was already too many. If his touch did half of what her touch did to him, she would be moaning in crumpled sheets in no time. He had six years premeditation on this one. He could wait another twenty minutes.

…………….

Sara unlocked the door to her apartment with a soft click. Her feet denied her mobility, however, and Greg picked up on her hesitancy easily. Like she could hide that from him, he spent six years memorizing her expressions and her mannerisms. He raised a hand, reaching out to touch the small of her back with his fingers.

"I'll go." His tone was even, the tambre of his voice concerned. He didn't want to pressure her; that would be ugly from everyone. She glanced at him, a shy smile playing on her lips. She lifted an eyebrow suggestively. "Or I could stay."

He watched in disbelief as she opened the door and crossed the threshold. Oh god. He followed her in, and pressed the door shut behind him, eyes never leaving her figure. She shrugged off her jacket, and tossed her keys into a dish. He dropped his duffel bag unceremoniously and ungracefully, as she turned to face him.

"When one starts something, Mr. Sanders, one must be prepared to follow through." He only nodded, crinkling his brow in agreement, and pulled her to him, crushing his lips to hers, sliding his tongue beyond her parted lips, immediately deepening the kiss. Greg poured his heart out to her tenderly kissing her with the earnest passion, the raw emotions that he felt, every time she looked at him.

He kissed her with six years of longing and pent up energies. Before he got ahead of himself, however, he needed to tell her that she was everything to him, and he was not going to be a one-night stand. She needed to understand that if they were to finish what they had started tonight, he had to know that there was hope of starting something tomorrow.

Greg pulled away from her kiss, and put at least two feet between them. He held up a hand, silencing her protests, and acknowledging her confusion.

"What, Greg?"

"I have something to say."

………

A/N: this is going to get hot and heavy… but vulgar is not really my thing.

Emotional relations are so much more sexy.