He arrives at her apartment at a speed which should be considered a World record. Killing the engine, he tries to think back as to whether he stopped at any red lights? Surely, he did, surely, he would have, right? The memory and feel of her lips on his hours earlier, has driven him to distraction. Would a judge forgive his crimes if he described in enough detail the soft brush of her lips on his, how she smelt and tasted like forever? How after all this time, Gilbert Grissom was following his heart and not his head?

Taking the stairs two at a time he reaches her door but hesitates before knocking. His hands twitching in front of him, looking down he catalogues the lines and rough skin he sees there. Then recalls these weathered hands had held her, firmly, close to him as they crossed the line into the beginning of something so perfect it makes him question everything and nothing all at the same time. Raising a fist he wraps on the door three times, sharp and short. And of course, she swings the door open just as the last knock echoes through the deserted hallway of her apartment complex.

'Hi.' She moves to the side, inviting him in. Of course, he is invited in.

'Hi.' He shuffles forward, not sure whether to kiss her now in greeting, or whether by giving in so soon he is doing them both a disservice. She is dressed in her dressing gown, fluffy socks on her feet. He never would have had her down as fluffy sock kind of woman.

'I was just about to get changed, give me two minutes?' She moves to step away, towards her bedroom but reflexes kick in and he reaches out and grips her arm.

'No, it's ok.' She turns, looking past him into the dark, empty hallway. Suddenly paranoid of the vacant space and what or who could be lurking there, ready to catch them in the act. The act, currently of two normal people, friends, co-workers with no definition to their relationship, just casually spending time together outside of work. His hand flexes on her arm, his eyes fixed on his tanned skin against the burgundy of her dressing gown. His hand flexes again and he looks up, to find her smiling at him. A bright smile he hasn't seen in a long, long time. He releases her from his tight grip, conscious of hurting her and turns to close and bolt the door. She lingers near him, drawn to his body heat, curiosity piquing her interest in what he plans to do next. He spins slowly to come face to face with her again.

'I don't know whether to kiss you now or wait.' A hand slips into hers and he pulls her close.

'What would you be waiting for?' Her fingers fit between his and the weight of her hand eases his nerves somewhat. He shrugs. 'Are you waiting for an invitation?' He shrugs again. 'For me to make the first move?' He shakes his head and the corners of his mouth push up.

'I don't want to wait.' He whispers. She steps forward and fits her body in line with his. And whispers back.

'Then don't.' Eyes locked, serious game face on. He inhales deeply and plunges forward. Lips smack, hands grope, tongues fight for dominance.

Five delicious minutes later they pull back. Drinking in one another. Sara laughs aloud and turns towards the kitchen.

'Are you hungry?' He follows her, eyes trained on her form in the dark apartment.

'No.'

'Thirsty?'

'No.'

'Tired?'

'Like you wouldn't believe.'

'Do you wanna lie down?' His head whips around, looking around her, past her, into every corner of the apartment, searching for an answer. 'We're adults. We can manage a nap without ripping each other's clothes off, right?' She leans against the work top, hand skimming over the faux marble top her cheeky smile forcing her gap toothed grin into his eye line. 'Although, technically it has been 7 years' worth of foreplay, if you think about it so if something… Was to happen? It wouldn't be the end of the world?' Her long slim fingers swirl around the pattern littering the work top, eyes down watching her fingers rather than the stunned look on his face. He steps forward, picking up her hand from its ministrations he tugs her away from the kitchen and into his personal space.

'A nap sounds good.' They exchange a soft smile as she pulls away to lead the way to the bedroom. Just as her foot crosses the threshold, he pipes up again.

'I mean, so does the ripping each other's clothes off but best leave it for another night.'