On every other morning Greg and Sara would either have breakfast in the restaurant downstairs on the first floor of the hotel or something quick at the café down the street. The café was preferred more by Greg because they sold comparatively good coffee and he didn't need to get up nearly as early, as they would just take it to go and head on to the convention events. This morning was a bit different.
It was much later in the morning, but for once that didn't really make a difference as they hadn't planned to go anywhere until at most dinnertime. As she sat up and stretched her arms above her head, she watched Greg tip the man at the door and carry a tray into the main room. He set it down on the small table before he realized she was already awake and carefully observing his every move.
"Well, If it's not Sleeping Beauty…" He smiled at her appearance. Her eyes were squinted, still adjusting to the bright light filtering it's way into the room through the breakbetween the curtains. And although he knew she never really made a priority of her appearance, but her dark hair was bunched up to one side, was a tad frizzy on top, and was beginning to curl at the ends. He didn't care much either.
"Are you sure you're not thinking of her evil step sister?"
"No…don't even get me started as to why not. I'll never shut up and breakfast would get cold."
She swung her feet off the side of her bed and walked over to the chair opposite of him. "No chocolate chip pancakes?"
"No, only blueberry…plus they couldn't make 'em like I can." He handed hers across the table.
"You are the master of fattening pancakes." There was a whole story behind this odd specialty of his. After all, she and Greg had been borderlinefriends/co-workers before this work related vacation. They lived in the same apartment building as of lately when Sara of all people had been evicted from her old one for some incredibly stupid mistake on her behalf. They once or twice had congregated at either of their places after a rough day at work for Las Vegas' best pancakes and a good movie. He figured tonight's events, which she was very much dreading, merited an excuse for an equally good substitute, minus the movie because they had a lot of talking to do.
They began to eat the food on their plates in front of them, though both still in silence until Sara spoke up. "I'm sorry…"
"Why?" He figured to what she was referring, but he just didn't know why she would be sorry for it.
"My mental breakdown…the fact that I waited so long to do anything about this…whatever 'this' maybe."
"I know…it's this weird…confusing…strange, but complicated thing. It makes no sense, but we've got something there…something that could potentially be the greatest thing I've ever had…and for that…I would wait for as long as it might take just to have it."
"No…don't say that…" Her eyes were rimmed with a few tears that were still unsure whether they wanted to say put or continue down her face.
"Why can't I?" He said, more angrily that he had originally intended.
"I'm just afraid, okay Greg…" She didn't really want to go into it.
He set his fork down on his plate and stopped eating. "Why? What is there to be afraid of…"
"Every time I'm finally happy…I find some way to screw it all up…and I don't want to do it again…"
"Sara…that's not going to happen." She was talking about Hank.Greghad beenthere with her through the whole thing. He had the man pegged even before the two got serious as someone who would only cause problems. He knew how bad she had taken it after she had found out the truth in the worst way, and he never wanted to see her like that again.
"So…where do we go from here?"
"Where ever the time decides to take us..fate...or whatever theheckyou want to call it. No worries, no regrets, just what we think is right for us."
"Why can't this whole thing just be casual or even semiformal?" Greg heard Sara's voice complain from within the bathroom as they both got ready for their night out.
"Well that would take the torture out of it." He answered trying to tie the lime colored tie draped around his neck. It took him a few uneventful attempts before he got it right. He was aware that Sara could, but he wasn't about to result in asking his date to tie him tie for him. "Are you done yet?" He knocked on the bathroom door impatiently.
Soon after the door opened and Sara stepped out. Her arms were folded and her head was dropped. She felt rather awkward in a dress, though this particular one was the most comfortable one she had come across. "Greg…stop staring!" It only made things worse.
"You look amazing Sara…" She shook her head in disbelief. "Trust me." The infamous dress was just plain black, understated, and didn't really draw too much attention to itself, at least not from those whose names weren't Greg Sanders. It wasn't at all low cut in the front, but instead showed the delicate nature of her collarbone, something you wouldn't normally notice in her everyday work wear. The back, however, was what he guessed he liked the most about the whole ensemble. Though the front was quite conservative, when she turned around it dipped down near the small of her back. It wasn't too short or too long, hitting just mid calf. It didn't accentuate the fact she was nearly the same height as Greg even without the heels strapped around her ankles. "Get over here." He instead took her hand and placed the other on her bareback. Sara's head rested on his shoulder.
"You know, this dancing thing might not be so bad after all…but let's save it for all the old fuddy duddies at the dinner." Greg grabbed his black pinstriped jacket and put it on over his black dress shirt and the green tie that just made her shake her head. "You're ready?" She didn't think he would be because he hadn't yet fussed with his mop of hair for at least a half an hour. It hadn't yet been coated in a layer of hair gunk to make it stand straight on end.
"Not quite." He picked up the black fedora from it's place a top his suit case, flipped it gracefully on to his head, and tilted it slightly to one side. No wonder, normally a hat couldn't fit over his hair. "Now…are you ready?"
She slipped on her coat quickly." Why yes Mr. Sanders." She linked her arm with his and proceeded through the doorway.
"Okay, so they're not all old fuddy duddies…" Greg mentioned to Sara as they entered the ballroom to see that many of the people there look to be near their age and the music playing throughout the room, thought it wasn't exactly Greg's taste, it was rather recent with some classics thrown in to the mix.
"Plus, open bar…" Sara perked up, though Greg didn't look too happy. "No…it's just fun to watch other people make fools of themselves, you know drinks, dancing…hilarious…like weddings."
"Weddings?"
"What else are you supposed to do when you go to a friend's wedding alone?"
After they had downed their dinner, prime rib for him, and of course a veggie pasta dish for her, he had managed to drag her on to the dance floor. He came to find she could dance, very well at that, it was just she never really wanted to before, or she simply had no one to dance with. Both of them had been erased, thanks in part to Greg. For some reason, Sara found that she could really open up when she was around Greg and Greg alone. She could be herself, and not just the boring workaholic with no life like everyone expected her to be. Perhaps it was that fact the Greg made an utter fool of himself on the regular daily basis, so one stupid thing she might say or do wouldn't really make a difference in comparison.
A while ago, the DJ decided to play a medley of, very fittingly for the two of them, old Vegas tunes, a mix of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and the rest of the bunch. So of course, since he was dressed for the part, he took Sara for a spin around the floor in an attempt to show up all the so called old folks. And the two of them did, by a longshot. Though they had to admit, it was more fun to be a spectator at their lab's annual bashes. At least there there was the possiblity of finding some really good blackmail stories or pictures take inconspicuously by his camera phone. That was especially interesting whenever Eclkie was involved. This time, however, they knew no one but each other.
After a while, Greg lifted his dislike for Sara to wander anywhere near the bar, and actually joined her for a drink. It was a special occasion, not just Sara drinking alone in her apartment because she had nothing better to do. Yes, he cared about what happened to her, but he didn't want to be like her controlling dictator. She had been complaining about the immense pain in her feet and gladly plopped down in the nearest chair she found. She slipped her toes out of the painful black pumps and set them on the floor underneath her chair. She didn't care that she just happened to currently be at a fancy work related affair, she shoes were coming off whether they liked it or not. As she sat back up in her seat, Greg was walking back over with two champagne glasses in hand…not exactly Sara's style, but it would do.
"So you can dress 'em up, but you can't take them out?" He laughed, sitting down beside her to take a rest himself.
"Well, we don't have to worry about that with you do we…even Frank himself would be jealous." She paused for a quick moment. "But I doubt he'd wear that tie."
"To what shall we toast?" He raised his glasses then realized he had nothing to say.
"To Vegas and how they should be missing us dearly, even Ecklie…because frankly I'm not too excited to go back." She clinked her glass against his and downed a portion of it before Greg had the chance to do or say anything.
"You who despised the idea of coming here in the first place, now doesn't want to go back home?" He couldn't understand it. Her job was in Las Vegas…so therefore in a roundabout way her whole life resided there as well. "Greg…I don't mean I never want to go back…it's just nice to have a vacation from all of it...a mental break to keepme from going completely off the deep end."
"Woah…Sara actually likes vacation time! Is that a sign of the apocalypse or what?"
"Hey, I have taken time off before…" She argued.
"Yes, but only when you would have been fired if you didn't."
Sara got up from her seat and walked over, in her barefeet of course, to the French doors to the balcony that was at the time covered in snow. She looked down at the bare street below them. It was funny how at night people in DC were either at such events like the one they were attending or were all comfortably at home in the outlying Virgina or Maryland with their families. No one looked to be comutting from one way to another, it was like everything stood still for a moment, similar to how Sara felt at the time...frozen somewhere other than reality.
"What's going to happen when we go back to work? We work together, we see each other everyday...that could get messy?" She finally turned around to face him instead of the absence of traffic. "What happens if 'this' messes with work and Ecklie decides to split us up? We could be working different shifts..."
"You haven't learned anything at all from this convention stuff...teamwork Sara...we are the best damn team the lab has ever seen...we know what were doing and being personally involved can't change that." She perked a small smile and left a soft peck upon his lips. He rested his forehead against hers as he spoke. "Why don't we head on home..."
Well, I'll update as soon as I can, but no promises it'll be any less than a few days. I'll try my best.