Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.

Greg bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. C'mon, Greg, you can do this, he coached himself. It's just a dance, why would she say no? Nodding decisively, he headed towards Sara, who was sitting at one of the tables with a bridesmaid. He had almost gotten there when another guy – one of the groomsmen, he thought – appeared out of nowhere and swept Sara onto the dance floor. He sank down into a chair, disappointed that he hadn't gathered courage a little sooner.

He hadn't been sitting long when the bride herself came sweeping over and grabbed his hand. "Come dance with me, Greg," she demanded, her eyes dancing.

Greg reluctantly stood up and moved towards the floor, not really paying attention as Sam chatted a mile a minute. He woke from his trance when he felt her poke his ribs. "Smile, Greg, it's only a dance." She teased.

He sighed. "Sorry, Sam. Mind's a million miles away."

"Or just across the dance floor." She replied.

He smiled wryly. "Yeah, but seriously, it's not like I have much of a chance with her."

She stared at him, incredulous. "Are you kidding me?"

"Sam, look at her. She's gorgeous."

"Thanks, Greg; I thought I looked pretty good today too." Sam stated dryly.

He glanced down at her, worried that she had taken offense. "It's not that you don't look amazing – cause you do. I mean, it's your wedding day, so you obviously outshine everyone in the room..."

He stopped as she laughed. "I was teasing, Greg. Calm down."

A faint blush stole across his face. "Yeah, I knew that."

"As for Sara, why don't you ask her to dance? I don't think it's as dire as you think. After all, you're here with her, aren't you?"

He nodded, feeling silly. "She just... deserves so much more than I can give her."

Sam squeezed his hands lightly as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Let her decide what she deserves, Greg."

He smiled back at her. "I'll try."

The song was ending, so he bowed to the bride, and moved away to find his date for the evening. He spotted her by the drinks, her deep purple dress clinging to her becomingly. He slid next to her, shoulders touching slightly, and waited.

"It was a lovely ceremony." She said quietly.

"A bit too elaborate for my tastes." He replied. "I want something simpler."

She turned to look at him. "Me too."

He reached down and squeezed her hand, not sure why he still had butterflies in his stomach. "Care to dance?"

She grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

He led her out to the floor, knowing he must be grinning like an idiot, but not wanting to stop. They danced in silence for a moment, before he said, "What type of wedding would you like?"

"I haven't really considered it, to be honest. Just close friends and family, maybe in a garden or by a lake."

"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed you were a nature girl."

She glanced into his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Greg."

There were a million things that Greg wanted to say – that he wished he knew her better, that he wanted to get to know her that well… instead, he just pulled her closer to him, focusing on being content that she was even in his arms.

"Hey, Greg... what type of wedding would you like?"

He pulled away a bit, looking down at her. Every picture in his mind had her coming down the aisle, smiling at him. But he couldn't tell her that, she'd freak out. "I really hadn't thought about it. I guess someplace that's special for the two of us, if I got a say in the matter." He shook his head, trying to get rid of images of Sara in white, beaming at him, out of his head. It hadn't helped that Wart had suggested that very scenario just the night before. Suddenly, he realized that he was being unusually silent, at least as far as Sara knew. So he opened his mouth and said the first thing he could think of. "I'm glad you weren't one of the bridesmaids."

Sara laughed a bit. "Yeah, they look atrocious in those lime green and baby pink dresses, don't they? I don't know what Sam was thinking... usually she has such good taste."

Greg shrugged. He hadn't actually been thinking about the actual bridesmaid dress. Instead, he had been happy that Sara could sit next to him throughout the service; that he was the one whose hand she had grabbed when she was tearfully happy; and that he had gotten to slide his arm around her as she had briefly cried into his shoulder before calling herself a fool for crying at such a happy time.

Oh, he was falling for her, hook, line and sinker. No question about that.