Summery:Who ever said that first impressions matters the most never factored in over active sex drives, close work environments and dead bodies into the equation. Part One of the Until The Day I Die Series
Rated: T (might be m later for future chapters)
Chapter Six: I Don't Get Jealous
Disclaimer: If I owned CSI Sara and Greg would do a bit more than flirting on the show . . .
"Your finger prints on the counter," she said pushing his prints to him.
"Your shoe prints," Greg said pushing the shoe prints to him.
"Your gun, that shot the victim," Sara said pushing it to the nervous man.
"Let me lay this out for you. You come in for a good day's work, steal your own money, and shoot your only worker. You walk away from the victim, discard your bloody clothes in your van and drive away. The only thing I don't know is why. Why did you kill her? For kicks? Get a little bored?" Greg asked.
"She was a whore. Sleeping with customers, having sex with random men in the back of the store. She was ruining my business!"
"Why couldn't you just fire her?" Sara asked.
Silence filled the air.
"Because you felt bad about firing the mother of your child?"
"That baby was really mine? I thought she was lying."
"Nope. If it was the only thing she told you the truth about, then so be it. But buddy that baby is yours. You killed her, and your child. Take him to booking."
After the man was escorted out of the room, Sara sat down in the chair, her head in her hands.
"Why do people have to work it out this way? Why do they figure out the only option is to kill someone?"
"They're nuts."
"Thanks Greg, I was being sincere and you joke," she teased.
"Its who I am. Want to go grab a bite to eat?" he asked.
"Sure."
Greg watched her as she walked out of the interrogation room, looking even more beautiful than she had the first day he met her. She had been beautiful, funny, strong willed and independent. But as the years had passed, she had grown into an amazing adult, someone he could only wish he could measure up to. He could only dream of meeting someone has great as she was to spend his life with, but she was the type of girl you only met once in your life. But Greg was sad to say that, he had missed his chance. He had become the best friend, rather than the love of her life.
He had tried so hard, flirted so many times and shot so many lines his head spun at the thought. So many smiles, touches and risky comments. He had done it all for her heart, and gotten what? He had received a friendship, that no doubt was the best friendship he had ever earned, but he still craved for something more.
He did crave just any longing glance. He craved her longing glance. He didn't crave just any touch; he craved her touch that electrified him in every way. He didn't crave just any loving whisper; he craved her breath beating down on his skin while she whispered into his ear. He craved everything about her. He had other women, tried to get that need out of him, that sweet addiction. But no matter what woman walked in his life, none of them were good enough. They weren't her. They were nice, sweet and even beautiful, but they weren't enough, they weren't Sara Sidle.
He needed her.
He loved her.
Shaking his head with a deep breath, he walked after her, watching her hips sway as she walked down the hall. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, blowing it out of the way. She looked back at him, smiling, and a glitter in her eyes. He seemed to see her in slow motion, studying and memorizing each glance, every sound and each move.
"Come on, getting slow on me?" she teased rounding the corner.
Greg picked up the pace, jogging after her as he lost sight of her. Greg expected nothing but the usual, he would pick at her to let him drive, she would refuse and then they would pick back and forth where the other wanted to go to eat and finally end up at the diner. Their evening would start normal, and end normal, even if a normal ending was the last thing he wanted.
But as he rounded the corner, he lost his breath. She was standing there, with him.
"Grissom," he thought bitterly. "Always ruining my chances."
It killed him inside, every time it happened. She would give him that look, that look he needed so badly to be meant for him.
That is when it happened, that next step that always happened. It ripped his heart out and into pieces.
She touched him, ever so lightly. That longing glance and touch that she gave Grissom regularly. He couldn't see why she wanted him. What did Grissom have that he didn't? What made him so much better? Sure, he was smarter, but he was smart too. It killed him so badly that Gil Grissom had something he didn't, that Sara desperately wanted and that Greg could never give her. But what killed him worse was, he would never find out what that was.
"Sara, are you ready to go?" he said interrupting the conversation.
He looked at Grissom, trying to keep that murderous glance to himself. He saw Grissom, digging holes into his head, as if he was some type of freak show or experiment gone wrong.
"Sure Greg. Umm Gil I have to go. Catch you later?"
"Sure Sara. Bye."
Greg tried to collect himself, breathing a deep breath as they made it out to the car. He didn't complain, he didn't agitate her about driving. He just stayed silent with a feeling of anger and sadness festering inside him. He knew she only went with him because it was tradition; they had gone with each other to the diner every shift for four years now. He knew that she wanted to stay behind, but Grissom would never accept her. He was the backup.
He hated that feeling.
"No arguing over who drives?"
"Nope," he said shortly.
"Where do you want to go?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Greg, what is the matter? You seemed fine earlier," she asked concerned.
"I don't like being a back up Sara. We all know whom you would rather be with after shift," he growled, continuing to look out the window.
"Greg is that what you think? That I spend my time after shift with you because Grissom shot me down?"
"Why else would you want to be with me?"
"Have you ever considered that I am interested in more than one man? If boredom were the case then I would be home watching TV drinking a beer. I come with you because I want to be with you," she whispered.
Her words were not said with anger or any notion of hurt. They weren't with surprise, but just soft and caring. Greg felt himself blush at her words and looked down to the ground.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Greg, you weren't jealous were you?"
"Pshhh whatever. Me? Jealous? Greg Sanders doesn't get jealous."
He looked over at her smirking slightly, trying to regain strength of his ego back. Only finding her amused grin looking back at him.
"Until now," she whispered, driving into the diner.
A/N: Well as much as some of you want some fluff . . . its not here . . . yet . . . we will see a tidbit soon . . . how soon I will not say coughnextchaptercough . . . just a preview . . . they goooodddd stuff comes later I promise . . . if you want fluff . . . you know what to do . . .