How Painful is Care Chapter 29: This is the Night, a csi fanfic

A/N: Not mine. That's all I really feel like saying this time around. Peace.

Chapter 29- This is the Night

"When the world wasn't upside down
I could take all the time I had
But I'm not gonna wait
When a moment can vanish so fast
Cuz every kiss is a kiss
You can never get back

Lift me up in your eyes
If you told me that is what Heaven is
Well, you'd be right
I've been waiting forever for this
This is the night

When the answer to all my dreams
Is as close as a touch away
Why am I here holding back
What I'm trying to say?

Lift me up in your eyes
If you told me that is what Heaven is
Well, you'd be right
Hold me close to your heart
I would go with you to the ends of the earth
And we'll fly
I've been waiting forever for this
This is the night

This is the night where we capture forever
And all our tomorrows begin
After tonight
We will never be lonely again

This is the Night by Clay Aiken

Greg was thoroughly drunk, and Sara was thoroughly amused. He was swaying, supposedly to the music, but in reality, to whatever music was playing in his head. He was beaming at Sara, and his hand was caressing her thigh, and slowly creeping upwards.

Sara smiled back and kissed him, slowly and deeply. "My place or yours?" she whispered in his ear, licking it gently with her tongue.

He moaned softly. "Whichever is closest."

They got up and made their way outside, lips never leaving each other's. Sara started to head to where they had parked, but Greg stopped her. "We're too drunk to drive. Let's get a cab."

Instantly, a pang of guilt embedded itself in her stomach. She was probably sober enough by now to drive, but it would still be better for all involved to take a cab. Luckily, there were a few hanging around outside of the club, so they took one back to her place, since it was closer.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other on the ride over; Sara was mildly surprised that Greg didn't try and take her shirt off. In retrospect, she realized it was most likely not because he didn't want to, but because he was too inebriated at the time to figure out how.

When they reached her apartment complex, she paid the cab driver and then they progressed to her door. This progression was delayed by a five minute make-out session on the stairs.

When they finally reached the door, it took her a minute to get it open. Once it was open, they both just kind of stared into the darkness, unsure if they were ready to take the next step.

Then Greg turned to Sara and kissed her deeply. Somehow, though don't ask either of them how, they made it to the bedroom and managed to take both their shirts off. Greg's pale skin seemed to glisten in moonlight that streamed through the window and Sara stared, fascinated.

They both took off their jeans and stood there awkwardly, Greg in just his boxers and Sara in her bra and underwear. Then Greg gave Sara a slow grin. "I've been waiting forever for this," he whispered, coming forward and kissing her deeply. His hands fumbled with her bra as he gently nibbled on her lip. His kisses trailed down her neck and to her breasts.

Sara giggled. "You know, for being a virgin, you're awfully good at this."

Greg paused from what he was doing. "Just because I've never had sex doesn't mean that I've never had any experience. Besides," he said, laying a kiss on her stomach that made her arms break out in goose bumps, "I watch a lot of porn."

He picked her up and practically tossed her on the bed, pausing only to pull off his boxers before joining her. They kissed each other fiercely and hungrily, no longer sweet and deep but now with the fire of the moment.

Greg pulled back for a second and looked at Sara seriously. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, almost sounding sober. "After tonight, we can't go back."

"Who says I want to go back?" whispered Sara. "Believe me, I want this. Tonight. This is the night."

Their mouths met again in a deep, shuddering kiss that had his heart flipping over inside his chest.

She smelled of something secret, of seduction. Those quick, catchy gasps coming from her sliced through him like tiny silver knives. He wanted to bury himself in her until the world ended. And when her hands cruised over him, when those soft sounds of approval hummed in her throat as she explored him, he wondered if it already had.

She scraped her nails over his belly, and had him quivering like a stallion. "I want you. I want you inside me. Tell me you want me."

"I do. I want you." He lowered his mouth onto hers once more. "From the first minute."

Her lips curved under his. "I know." She arched her hips. "Now." She rose over him, shook her hair back. And smiled. "Now," she said again.

He moved fast, flipping her onto her back, pinning her body with his. "Now," he repeated and drove deep inside her.

He watched the shock race over her face, felt the waves of it vibrate through him. They trembled there, each caught on some fine edge.

And with her eyes locked on his, she began to move. A rising up, a falling away, so smooth, so fluid it was like sliding through silk. Her name echoed in his head, like a song, or a prayer. He clung to the echo of it, clung to the fraying threads of control as she shattered around him.

She fell apart. Oh, God, the most wonderful sensation. A losing of self, then a gathering back. Her mind hazed. And with one last liquid sigh, she rode the final crest.

Locking him close, she took him with her.

Sunlight pierced Greg's eyelids like thousands of needles stabbing through his retinas and into his brain. Groaning audibly, he rolled over and covered his head with his pillow. He had been having the best dream, where he and Sara had gone clubbing, and gotten wasted, and…

Suddenly, he sat straight up as reality dawned on him. "Oh, fuck," he whispered. Then his face took on the most peculiar shade of green and he just made it to the bathroom in time.

After puking his guts up, he went into the kitchen in search of coffee, and hopefully Sara. Instead, he found a glass of water, two aspirin and a note. He took the aspirin first, then read the note.

"Dear Greg-

Grissom called me in early. Triple homicide. If you're feeling up to it, we could really use your help. We'll talk about what happened last night later.

Love you,
Sara"

Greg almost threw up again when he read the part about the previous night. So it hadn't just been a dream. They had really done it.

At that moment, Greg didn't think he had ever hated himself more. He might've given her HIV. She could have gotten a disease that would kill her. If he gave it to her, how was he going to live with himself?

These were the only thoughts that crossed his mind as he quickly showered, dressed, and went to meet her at the lab.

The moment he set foot in the lab, Grissom cornered him. "Greg, you shouldn't be here. You're not in any condition to work."

"Griss, I'm fine."

"No, you're not, you're hung over, and I don't want you screwing up the results because you were drinking last night."

Greg looked at Grissom sharply. "Are you…angry that I got drunk last night?"

Grissom sighed. "Yes, I am. It was irresponsible, it was-"

"Good. But I bet you're not nearly as angry with me as you should be…I bet you're not as angry with me as I am."

Now Grissom looked concerned. "Greg, what—?"

Greg held up a hand. "Look, I gotta talk to Sara, alright? Then I'll be out of here until my shift starts tonight, and I promise you I won't be hung over by then."

Grissom shrugged, but moved aside. "She's in trace!" he called at Greg's retreating back.

Greg practically jogged to trace. "Hey, Hodges, I gotta talk to Sara, do you mind?"

Hodges looked up from the evidence he was processing. "Go ahead, Sanders, I'm not going to stop you."

Greg gave him a look that would have stopped a herd of charging rhinos in its tracks. "I meant in private, Hodges."

Hodges threw his hands up and stalked out of the lab, muttering angrily under his breath about being kicked out of his own lab. Greg closed the door behind him. "Sara?" he said, going and standing next to her.

"Yeah, Greg, what do you need?" she asked, not looking up from the fibers she was looking at underneath the microscope.

"Sara, we gotta talk. But before that, you have to go see a doctor. Now."

"I have six weeks, Greg," she said calmly, writing something on the pad of paper next to the microscope.

"What?" he asked, not comprehending.

She sighed and looked at him. "It takes six weeks for HIV to manifest itself enough to be present in blood tests."

Greg's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know that?" he asked quietly, leaning on the table.

"When you found out you had it, I did some research, just in case we decided to…you know," she said awkwardly, a faint blush visible on her cheeks.

"So you won't know for six weeks?" he reiterated, just to be sure. She didn't say anything, just nodded. Greg nodded as well, then turned to leave. Before he left, though, he turned back and said quietly, "If I gave it to you, I will never forgive myself." Then he opened the door and left.

A/N: Text in italics is from Key of Light by Nora Roberts. Unfortunately, I'm not cool enough to come up with a good sex scene on my own, so I stole hers.