Friends First

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's Note: I hope you all like this chapter. Please review.

Chapter 5:

Greg opened his apartment door, at the end of shift, and was assaulted by the smell of dinner.

"Hey Greg," Sara called from the kitchen.

"Hi," Greg greeted her, walking towards the kitchen.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Sara said coming out from behind the kitchen island. She handed him a glass of wine and said, "I hope you don't mind, my work clothes were dirty," gesturing towards her clothes. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

Sara put a finger under her chin ans pushed his mouth closed. She whispered, "didn't your mother teach you not to stare?" She laughed when Greg blushed at her comment. Sara turned and went to sit on the couch. Greg snapped back to reality and sat down beside her.

"I don't mind," he commented, referring to her earlier question. "I'm glad you were comfortable enough here to get them." Sara smiled back at him and reached over to grab his hand.

"I really appreciate you letting me stay here," Sara thanked him. "I didn't want to be alone."

"Hey that's what friends are for," Greg grinned. "Besides you're cooking me dinner in a pair of my boxer shorts. It's better than any date I could have come up with," he joked. He was rewarded with a slap on the back of the head. "Okay. Truce," he put his hands up in surrender.

A bell rang in the kitchen and Sara got up to get the food. Greg rose from the couch and went to the kitchen.

"Out," Sara ordered him. "Sit down at the table."

Sara brought out dinner and they sat down to eat. They talked about their days: Greg told her about the case and the phone incident, and Sara told him how nothing is on at night or early morning, as they ate their dinner.

"Sara that was amazing," Greg complimented her. "I didn't know you cooked."

"Cookbooks are a girl's best friend," she joked. They both laughed, until Greg started yawning.

"I guess I should head home to let you sleep," Sara said regretfully, getting up and beginning to clear the table.

"You know," Greg offered, "you could stay here again. I'll drive you home before shift to change and then go in together. You're car is still at work, anyway," he reminded her.

"You wouldn't mind?" Sara asked hopefully.

"Not at all," he replied.

"Okay," Sara smiled. "How about you wash, I dry," she gestured towards the dishes.

"Deal," Greg agreed.

As they washed the dishes, they talked about everything: their childhoods, work, their hopes and dreams. It didn't seem like any time had passed when they were done.

"You want to watch a movie?" Greg asked.

"I thought you were tired," Sara joked. "What do you have?"

"I don't know," Greg shrugged. "They're under the TV. Pick one while I go change."

Sara looked under the TV and found a huge collection. "No wonder he doesn't know what he has," she muttered to herself.

When Greg came back out, Sara was sitting on the couch with the movie ready to go.

"So what are we watching?" Greg asked as he flopped down on the couch beside her, dressed in track pants and a t-shirt.

"National Treasure," Sara replied.

"Awesome," he yawned and put his arms around Sara's shoulders.

"Trying to get lucky," Sara glanced at him slyly.

"I already am," he commented squeezing her shoulders. This time Sara blushed as they settled in to watch the movie.