A/N: Another chapter for your viewing pleasure. I've noticed something about the next few chapters (this one included). There seems to be some kind of angst-fluff continuum, and when a chapter starts one way (fluffy, for example), it thus ends the other way (in this example, angsty). Anyway, usual disclaimer applies. We're entering the home stretch, here. Only 4 more chapters after this one. Please read and review!

Chapter 10

"When you're all alone with the melody
Do you close your eyes and think of me?
Will you still hear me singing anymore?
When five becomes four"

Greg left the choice of restaurant up to Sara; she had spent time in San Francisco more recently than he, so he figured she might know more about where they should eat. Besides, he was reveling in simply walking down the sidewalk with her. There was simply an energy that flowed from her that always caught him in its spell. From the way she tilted her head to catch the last rays of the sun in her hair to the way she turned to smile at him, he loved it all, and he was immensely grateful for this opportunity.

She had decided on a small café near the water that was only about a fifteen-minute walk from the hotel. Greg wouldn't have cared it they were eating in the nastiest dive in San Francisco—the chance to be with her was enough.

They arrived, sat down and ordered with no problem, and the food was out quickly. They ate in relative silence, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind that only two people who knew each other well could have. After he had finished his dinner, Greg leaned back in his chair, watching Sara eat. He loved her so much, and it was about time that they got into that conversation. She looked up at him as if she had heard his thoughts, then smiled gently, but with concern, reaching out to touch his arm. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You look like you have a burning question in your mind. Out with it, Sanders. What's bothering you?"

Taking her hand in his, he looked down at his plate, carefully formulating the words in his head so that they came out right. "When you left Vegas," he said slowly, "you didn't just leave all your friends behind. You left Grissom behind as well."

Sara sat very still, her demeanor shifting instantly, as if she knew what he was going to ask. "Yes, I did," she said quietly, but there was a hint of a question in her tone, as if she was wondering what he would say next.

Taking a deep breath, Greg continued gazing at his meal, half afraid to meet her eyes. "So, does that mean," he began, his voice so low that she could barely hear him, "does that mean that things with you and Grissom are officially over? Is there…is there a chance that another guy might…you know…"

"Greg," Sara said gently, her heart breaking with each word. "Greg, I—"

"Forget it," said Greg suddenly, though he didn't drop his hand. Instead, he stood, pulling her to her feet. "Come on," he said, pulling her closer to him. "Come dance with me."

She gave him a look that was more startled than anything. "Greg, what in the hell are you—?" she started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Listen," he breathed in her ear as he pulled her even closer. "It's our song. We danced to this song at the LVPD ball. When you told me…"

He didn't need to complete the rest of the sentence; she already knew. "When I told you about me and Grissom," she said, her voice suddenly dull. "This is our song? Since when? I don't recall getting a vote on that." She looked around, clearly embarrassed that other diners in the restaurant were staring at them.

Greg rolled his eyes. "It's been our song since that night," he informed her

Still confused, Sara asked, "Why this song, of all songs?"

"Because," Greg said softly in her ear, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back, "that song, that night, was the first time I ever got to dance with you. I haven't been able to get that song out of my head ever since that night. And I certainly haven't ever been able to get the idea of holding you in my arms as we danced out of my mind."

Sara just looked at him, an inexplicable pain in her eyes. "Greg—" she began again, and once again, he cut her off.

"Please, Sara," he whispered, stroking her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "Just dance with my. Just for this moment. Please."

How could she deny him that one request? She didn't even try, acquiescing to his plea. Greg closed his eyes and breathed in her sweet scent, immediately taken back to that night so long ago. Somehow, this felt so right, no matter how wrong it was. Holding her in his arms was enough to satisfy every longing that he had felt towards her.

Resting his cheek against hers as they danced, he sang softly into her ear along with the music.

"You'll always be a part of me
I'm a part of you indefinitely
Babe don't you know you can't escape me
Ooh darling cuz you'll always be my baby
And we'll linger on
Time can't erase a feeling this strong
No way, you're never gonna shake me
Ooh darling cuz you'll always be my baby"

He pulled back enough to look at her properly, and he was surprised to see that her eyes were full of tears. "Sara, what—?" he started to ask, but this time, it was her turn to cut him off.

"I can't," she whispered, staring at him as if seeing him clearly for the first time. "I can't do this, Greg. I really can't." She turned and left the restaurant, only pausing to grab her purse from the back of her chair.

Greg stood still for a moment in shock. He had not been expecting that. Quickly, he whipped his wallet out and tossed a few bills on the table before hurrying after her. He had to jog to catch up to her, and when he did, he touched her gently on the arm. "Sara?" he asked quietly.

She turned to him. "My heart is torn in two, Greg," she said, tears streaming down her face. "You don't know how hard it is for me. Being here, being with you, it's ripping me apart. Part of me wants to be with you. Part of me still is in love with Grissom. And another part of me, perhaps the biggest part of all, just wants to leave and leave both of you behind."

Remaining silent, Greg just rubbed her back soothingly. The truth was that he didn't know what to say. He had never expected that Sara would be this upset with him being here. Guiltily, he remembered what Catherine had said about Sara being unable to tell him good-bye because he would've been able to make her stay. Greg sighed deeply, then withdrew his hand so that he was no longer touching Sara. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. "Do you want to go back to the hotel?" he asked quietly, making sure to avoid her gaze.

Sara avoided looking at his face as well. She couldn't seem to bring herself to speak, only nodding in response, one arm wrapped around her stomach like she was literally holding herself together. They walked back in silence, the energy that had previously been between them replaced by tension that seemed to crackle in the air.

They finally got back to the hotel, still in silence. Greg looked over at Sara, who was looking down at the ground and biting her lip. He simply reached out and touched her shoulder wordlessly before heading over to his room.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Sara called out to him. "Greg, wait." She ran to catch up. When she was level with him, she slowed, her brow wrinkled in concentration as she tried to form her thoughts into words. "Do you…do you want to come up to my room?" she asked, all in a rush.

Greg raised his eyebrows in pure shock. "Are you a masochist?" he joked, recalling their conversation only a few minutes earlier about how much he was hurting her, and his eyes were half serious with the question.

A small smile flickered reluctantly on Sara's face, but it quickly faded. "Who knows?" she whispered, her dark eyes seeming even darker. "I must be."

Greg's smile faded as well, and he shook his head. "You may be a masochist, but I'm no sadist, Sara. And I can see what my presence is doing to you. It's hurting you, and that hurts me just as much as it hurts you."

He turned to go to his room when she reached out and grabbed his arm. He turned back, albeit reluctantly, and she just looked at him. "Please," she said quietly. "All jokes about my love for pain aside. I need you to be here. I don't want to be alone tonight. Please."

Despite everything, Greg's heart beat faster with the words he had longed to hear for years. He allowed Sara to take his hand and lead him to her room, even as his every instinct was telling him to run the other way for self-preservation's sake. An ironic thought struck his mind—the last time he hadn't listened to his self-preservation instincts was the Demetrius James incident, and look at how that turned out.

Still, he couldn't just leave Sara. After all, he reasoned with himself as he walked into her hotel room and she closed the door behind him, they still had a lot more to talk about.