I hope I did this chapter justice. I was tempted to use a few choice words that I myself don't personally use, but I didn't.

Chapter Eight-Lipstick Lies

"I'd like that." She could feel the small breath escape his lips as he spoke just inches from her own.

His hazy eyes never left her gaze as her hand slid down from his face to the zipper of his jacket. He removed his hands from around her middle just enough to let the dark blue material slip off his shoulders andfall on to the couch.

"Five years is just two long." She grasped the front of his shirt closing the gap between them and forcing his lips against hers.

It was the one thing she had waited five long years, actually more,to happen and for once he wasn't in opposition to it. Grissom toyed with the hem of her shirt as he lured her down the hallway. He looked into her eyes as he began to slowly move her shirt further up her torso, looking for some kind of silent permission.

It was morning...thank God. It had been a awful night.Without lifting her head from the pillow she could see the East Village's old brick buildings and taller newer buildings standing farther beyond the others if she squinted from the early sunlight reflecting off the many windows back in to her eyes. For some reason she was alone. Propping herself up on her elbows, she remembered where she was, and could hear loud music playing just beyond the door. She planted her feet on the floor and walked toward the sound. Opening the door she was greeted with the smell of something burning.

She hurried out into the main room to see Aggie on crutches, with Greg's help, dropping slices of burnt toast into the garbage can on the kitchen side of the room.

"What happened?" Her voice was drowned out by the stereo playing, so she turned it off catching their attention in the process. "So Pernilla only taught you how to make Spaghetti, not toast?"

"No…" Aggie answered annoyed. "Greg was supposed to be watching the toaster, but he didn't. I had to hobble over and pull the torched remains out and toss 'em." She looked over to Greg with a look that could cause a felony charge.

"Well, good morning sunshine!" He laughed seeing Sara still dressed in her pajamas and her hair smushed up on one side.

"Very funny, Greg. I know your hair looks a lot worse in the morning than mine so I wouldn't be talking right now." She came back after his comment which ended it right then and there. "Aggie let me make breakfast…it's the least I could do."

"No, I can do it!" She said angrily, some what surprising Sara with her reaction. "I just wanted Greg to get up and get the toast, not because I couldn't do it, but because it was burning and I'm just really slow. How 'bout you get the toast and I'll deal with the bacon…'cause Greg has told me how you don't like meat and…and if you aren't going to eat any, you shouldn't have to cook it." She started rambling as if she was thinking about something else and not noticing the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"I'm gonna be a celebrity…that means somebody everyone knows…" Aggie sang quietly trying to kick her one leg up while hobbling over to the refrigerator. "They're gonna recognize my eyes…my hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose…"

Chicago, that's what was bothering her, and Greg knew it. She had wanted to be a dancer ever since she first took lessons when she was just in preschool. Greg hated when ever his friends came over to his house and his little sister would be flitting about the house in her frilly pink dress-up tutus. She was finally living in New York City, finally got a main roll in a big play and now some non-English speaking illegal immigrant in a stolen a car had dropped his glasses and swerved into the crosswalk to ruin all that. What were the chances of that?

"And I'll just sit on the couch and do nothing like the two of you think all men do." Greg said propping his feet up on the coffee table, sitting in front of the television on the other side of the room.

"Exactly…he's not much use in a kitchen, is he?" Aggie poked fun of the fact he barely survived college on Raumen noodles.

"His spaghetti isn't half bad though." Sara said oddly sincere for the conversation. "Or do you just always win over women by making your own spaghetti sauce because that's the only thing you can make."

"Don't forget you nearly burnt down the kitchen when you caught Nana's curtains on fire."

"I was ten and it was with my chemistry set!" He corrected her jumping off the couch.

"Nana's still afraid to let you go into the kitchen even for a glass of milk." She flipped the strips of bacon over in the frying pan before going on further. "Listen…it gets pretty boring around here hanging around 'ol crippled me. Why don't you show Sara around town…have some fun?"

"Really? You sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" Greg turned right back into overprotective brother mode once again. After all he did fly to New York to see his sister, not go gallivanting around town with Sara.

"I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'd just be taking a nap the whole time. So why stay here?"

Nearly an hour had passed since Greg and Sara had grabbed their jackets and headed down the hallway. And for that length of time Aggie had been sound asleep, snoring away on the living room couch when she heard a familiar knock at the window. Aggie blinked open her eyes and carefully swung both feet off the couch and propped herself up on one crutch to help her get up and walk the few feet to the window. Though once she got there the window was already pushed all the way up and a foot dressed in one of a pair of old beat up black boots was stepping through into her living room from the fire escape outside.

"Aggie…you didn't have to get up just for me." Ian said standing up straight after crouching through the window frame. "I know by now how to get the window to work." He stole a quick peck before helping her back to the couch. "So where's your brother? He isn't here, is he?" He looked around nervously towards either the bathroom or the extra bedroom wondering from which door he might see him suddenly appear.

"No…he went out with Sara, they won't be back for a while yet." She leaned back resting her head on Ian's shoulder.

"We need to talk."

Uh-oh…the dreaded four words. "Should I be worried?" She laughed through her teeth.

"Why do you have such a problem with Greg finding out about me? I mean…your grandmother knows about me, but for some reason I'm not good enough to meet your brother." He said sounding more like a paranoid woman than some want to be rockstar by which Greg liked to refer to him.

Aggie let out a loud sigh. If guys thought women were tough to deal with, they'd never once listened to themselves. "It's just…Greg…he's my older brother…over-protective, you know. He's just really picky. He could tear you right apart…well, not in a literal sense…but he'll tell you out right everything he doesn't like about you whether you like it or not…really."

"So you're saying no matter what he's pretty much going to hate me."

"Yeah." She answered bluntly.

"You know he's going to have to know about me eventually."

"How about I break it to him gently then you can meet him later."

He had taken her on the grand tour, all of his favorite places from when he had lived there more than five years ago. They stopped for coffee in a small shop down the street from Aggie's apartment. He claimed it was the only place he had found that even came close to his own Hawaiian brew. He forced her, after much protest, to attempt rock climbing at Chelsea Pier.

Of course he did bring her to some of Manhattan's 'touristy' places, such as the Statue of Liberty, through he complained about it being boring since you can't even go up to the very top anymore, and it makes your neck awfully sore just staring at the old rusting woman. But he took her there anyway, because he's just such a nice guy as she said.

After their afternoon on the town, it was time to take the subway back to the East Village. Sara had been to New York City on a couple of occasions with her foster family and for a class trip nearly twenty years ago, though she wasn't used to subway trains. They gave her an awful claustrophobic feeling being in a tunnel underneath the ground. And she always seemed to have the most peculiar people sitting beside her.

This time, the man, she swore he had to have just crawled from his home under a bridge. He had a distinct odor, one mixed of part not showering for nearly a week, and of wet dogs, though it hadn't rained since before her plane landed. His clothes were tattered and torn, and his chin was scruffy. Normally she would feel bad for such a man, but the look upon his face made her ask Greg to slide down the seat to save her from the strange man.

"That better?" He smiled the smile he knew Sara loved to see, but it made her feel even worse about what it was she hadn't told him yet. "Hey Sar…what's wrong?" It was odd how well he could read her emotions without even hearing her speak. It was just one of the many things he had picked up quickly from his promotion…observation. Too bad he couldn't read minds too, then she wouldn't have to be the bearer of bad news.

"Greg…we need to talk." She finally spat out after the third attempt.

"Uh oh…what did I do now?" He joked. On the back of his digital camera, he looked through the many pictures he had snapped of Sara , ones she had taken of him, and ones of the both of them they'd asked a random stranger to take. Many of them, he couldn't help but laugh just looking at them.

"It's not that funny…" She said sounding serious. She didn't want to tell him, but she had to do it. She had no choice. If she waited any longer she'd most likely have an even worse reaction from him.

"No really, it's you…'attempting' to rock climb." He showed her on the small screen of the camera. He either knew her news was indeed bad news and was just trying not to think about it, or hetruely was clueless.

"Greg…when you left to come out here...and I was still in Vegas helping Griss with the serial…"

"Yes…did you guys make the front page of thenewspaper again? Why can't I ever be in on one of those cases?" He really was clueless.

"Well, actually…yeah, but that's not my point." Remember- always tell bad news like ripping off a band-aid. You better make it fast. "After Griss and I got a matching sample from the undercover work at the diner---"

"He made you wear the awful blue dress didn't he?" He just wasn't cooperating with the fast idea.

"Yes Greg. But will you please let me talk…" When Sara gave orders every one listened, even Greg on occasions. "…after we got back a positive match on the guy…Gil and I went out to celebrate, out drinking, you know…and then we took the same cab home, and well, we were both drunk, and he tried to help me up to my apartment…and well…he never went back down to the cab after I got home."

"Sara…" He laughed nervously. "…are you saying what I think you're saying?" He had to ask again to make sure he wasn't the one with the hearing problem. He didn't want to believe it was true so he thought if he asked some how it would result in a different answer.

"Yeah…it is and I'm so sorry…" Sara began to apologize, but she was interrupted.

"You spend one drunken night with Grissom after I leave town and all you can say is…I'm sorry?" Technically, he didn't really give her much of a chance to say anything more than that, but he wasn't really thinking about what was pouring out of his mouth at that moment.

Sara pleaded while she had the chance. "Greg, you know it didn't mean anything to me…it was a mistake."

"No, no it wasn't. You will never be over Grissom. Will you?" Greg's voice was increasing in volume with each word he spoke. Sara figured that those around them on the subway had figured they were rehearsing for their guest spot on the Jerry Springer show, and she was now seriously rethinking the idea of telling him in public, especially a crowded subway train. But she felt that if she didn't get it out then she never would have. "That's why you didn't want anyone to know about us. You didn't want Grissom to find out, right?"

"But--"

"No Sara, you were just settling for me because you couldn't get what you really wanted. Grissom wouldn't make his move so…what, you just used me to get him to do something!"

"No! You know I'd never do that! I mean he did try something…the next day in his office…I slapped him."

"Then why would you just give up all that we had between us?"

"I would never give all that up, Greg! Never…I wasn't in my right mind. It was a mistake...I swear it was."

"If you can't just go to a bar for a few friendly drinks with our boss without getting drunk and bringing him home with you, then…maybe you really do have a drinking problem!"

If it hadn't hurt her to hear him shoot down every single apology that she said, it definitely did once his last comment came out of his mouth. As soon as he said it, even Greg himself knew it. A small single tear started to roll down her cheek. They were on a subway surrounded by people and Sara was crying. Sara never openly cried in public, in front of anyone but himself.

"Sara…I didn't mean--." He was quickly interupted.

"No…you wouldn't take my apology…I'm not excepting yours either." She moved away from him to where she was sitting beside the creepy man earlier, leaving Greg by himself to be glared at by an old woman sitting across from him. It was going to be an interesting journey home.