Author's Notes: Wow, this took a long time to get up. Mucho thanks to Emmithar, for taking the initiative to push me to write, and prompt me with her own words and wisdom. This one's for you, girl.

Jenny

Chapter Two:

He shouldn't have left. He knew Grissom had been counting on him to do his job and get the scene taken care of, but seeing them together had been too hard to deal with.

He couldn't believe she had lied to him. Over and over again, since the first days they had been dating, he had suspected she had feelings for Nick, but she had always denied the accusations, telling him that Nick was too much like a brother to her for her to ever consider him as a candidate for romance.

Had she started shacking up with him the moment he had left town? That in itself would explain so much of her behavior, her defensive position over the relationship he had always known the two of them had. Or had they been together even longer? Was her feelings for Nick the reason she had been so easily withdrawn at the start of their relationship? Or was she forced into Nick's waiting arms the moment he had ran out on her?

His aching heart matched his throbbing head as he stared up at the black desert sky, the sparkling stars hidden by dark clouds. This wasn't what he had expected for his first night back on the job. Since agreeing to return to his position with the crime lab, his only thoughts had been on the brunette he never seemed to be able to get enough of.

He trusted Angelle with his life, she was a great person and a wonderful friend, but she was very difficult to live with. She had managed to alienate him from his so-called family at the crime lab, although he wasn't sure now if that was a blessing or a curse. If he had known Sara and Nick had started dating, he probably wouldn't have wanted to go back to the lab...he would have probably moved back to Houston where Angelle was convinced they belonged.

Angelle was convinced that any woman in his life couldn't possibly be good enough for him, including, but not limited to, Sara. She had set him up on a pedastool where only the most elite could be "worthy" of Greg's time and love, setting everyone up to fail. It was annoying, to say the least, but he had found it odd that she cared so much. With an irritated sigh, he dimly realized that she had been right. Sara wasn't right for him.

He could already hear Angelle's snide comments about the brunette CSI, the simple "I told you so" once he shared the details of his night with his southern belle. What else had Angelle been right about, besides the Sara fiasco? Should he have taken her advice to go back to Houston right after he had been released from the hospital? Should he have listened to her when she pleaded with him to take her back to their home, to their friends? Was it a mistake to come back to Vegas, to try to make amends, to take his job back?

After all, Sara had been his driving force to stay around. He couldn't resist the slightest possibility of seeing her, talking to her, holding on to their past...now that she was obviously moving on with Nick, of all people, was it even worth it? Why had she even bothered to convince him to come back months ago, tracking him down and pleading for him to return home with her? Hadn't it been enough of an omen to see his old friends' less-than-enthusiastic welcome? He should have hopped on the next plane to Texas and put Vegas behind him.

But Sara had convinced him to stay. She told him she needed him, she missed him, she wanted him. He finally started to feel like he belonged once more. And now she had ripped that away from him as well. Lies, it had all been lies. She had convinced him she would wait for him forever. And she lied.

He ran a hand over his face, sinking against the wall, trying to get himself under control. Somehow he had to walk back in there. Somehow he had to process the scene, interview the suspects, carry on with his job and life. Everyone was counting on him...or were they? What if the only reason he got his job back was due to pity? What if no one really wanted him here at all? How could he distinguish from what was real and what he had been conned into believing was real? Did it even matter anymore?

The lab had been his entire life. For the longest time he felt as though he was a part of something, as though he had a meaning there, a life, a family. He had everything here...and he had lost everything as well. Vegas was a dream city, everyone went there risking everything, and losing most of it in the process. But he...he had lost more than everything. Friends, family, his life...his will to live even. He sank against the wall onto the concrete, hands pressing against his knees as he choked back a quiet job.

He couldn't lose it, not here, not now. He had made a pact with himself that he would not let these issues resurface once more. He had dealt with the past, it was time to face the future. How could he, though, when his past--everything he had lost--kept popping up around every corner? He wanted to run, to pack his things and take the first flight out of town, out of Nevada, out of the country. He wanted to hide behind postcards and lies, to pretend like he didn't care and was happier elsewhere. The truth was, no matter how far he ran, he could never escape. He had tried that once, and failed miserably.

The moment he left Vegas, he had left all his problems in his shadow. At least he had tried. In all actuality, it had been following him far to closely, always within his footsteps, but never really presenting themselves. In Houston it had been easy. There was nothing there that reminded him of his old life, he could pretend she didn't exist, he could drown out his regrets in a bottle of whiskey. Angelle had been there to comfort him, for once in her life listening more than she talked. It was what pulled him through his depression, and for a while, things had been good. Then Sara had entered. How could he love and hate someone so much at the same time?

Part of Greg was thrilled, because truthfully he could not live forever knowing he'd never see her again. But the second she had entered his entire life had gone downhill. He had gotten hurt, and sick. The team was busy trying to accuse the only person who had stood up for him throughout this entire charade, and now his heart was slowly breaking.

The comforting hands on his shoulders pulled him into a hug, and he didn't resist, desperately needing the comfort, the contact. Her skin was warm, even though a light preface of rain had started to show. His lips caught hers, and for a moment it was pure bliss, a warmth in his mind and body he couldn't shake

He reached up, moving away her hair from her face as he leaned into her, the rain now no longer dribbling, but pouring as the warning bells went off in his head. Quickly and suddenly he pulled away, moving to his feet and sprinting a few feet away. He couldn't do this. Not now, not after he had promised himself he'd let her go. How could something that felt so good be so wrong at the same time? He pretended that he couldn't hear Sara as she called his name, her voice begging him to stop.

He didn't dare glance back to see her standing in their spot, her hair clinging to her face and neck as the rain continued to come down. The only image that rested with him now, the only feeling was her warm lips on his, the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. How could he tell if this was something real, embedded within this nest of lies? Was she just stringing him along once more? Why couldn't she just it go? How could she possibly think she could have both of them at the same time? He couldn't fall back into her trap. His heart couldn't take it. His sanity couldn't take it.

He didn't stop, couldn't stop, as he tried to escape his demons, lost somewhere in the rain. Greg hardly acknowledge the squealing tires as he dodged across the road, his lungs burning in his chest as he pushed himself further.

The only clear thought in his mind was that he needed to get away, he needed the space, the time. And when he finally calmed down, finally regained his nerve, he would go back to his place, and start to pack. Then he would Vegas, forever.

--

Feeling cold, wet, and miserable, Sara did her best to stand up to him. Her arms were wrapped around her torso as she shivered, too proud to ask for his dry jacket. "It was nothing," she answered quietly.

"A kiss is nothing?" Nick asked skeptically, frowning as he did so. "You left a crime scene before you were cleared to do so, chased down your old boy friend, made out with him on the street, and now you're going to stand there and tell me it was nothing?"

"It just happened Nicky," Sara groaned inwardly, pushing a wet strand of hair from her face. "I can't help it if Greg can't control his emotions. And I'm only human, I'm going to respond."

"Of course you are," Nick nodded in agreement, "But I was expecting a slap, not french kissing 101."

"What do you want from me?" Sara snapped in response, her teeth chattering slightly, "Greg and I have a...complicated...history. He needed comfort and things got out of hand...there's nothing left to say!"

Nick shook his head angrily, his fists clenched, "It's always going to be about Greg, isn't it? You can't keep stringing me along, I'm not your personal toy to dangle in front of unavailable men, Sara, and I honestly can't believe you'd behave like this!"

"This isn't really the time or place--" Sara hissed, glancing around to see several people staring in her direction, "Can't this wait until we're alone?"

"No!" Nick retorted loudly, "I don't care who's watching us! I need to know, Sara, who's it going to be? Me? The one who's stood by you through this whole ordeal? Or Greg, who runs away at the first available opportunity?"

The air was thick with tension as he stared deeply into her tear-filled eyes. Her answer was a whisper, but with the room's silence it resounded loudly, "Nicky...it's always been Greg."

TBC