Four Times Greg Found Sara, and One Time He Didn't
[ - ] Chapter
or Story - Text Size +
Category: CSI - Ship Ahoy!
Characters: Greg Sanders
, Sara Sidle
, Episode Related
, VignetteWarnings: None
Four possible ways Greg could have found Sara after she left ... and one time she found him.
My first attempt at a 'five times' fic variation, and my first attempt at fixing the last two seasons from a Sara/Greg shipper point of view.
He heard her laugh. It didn't have that same distant quality as the one he often heard in his dreams when he would see her in a mist, a glimpse of her hair or her hand reaching out to him. No, this sounded very real.
Greg raised his head to find himself staring into the eyes of Sara Sidle as she took the seat opposite to him on the shuddering subway car that raced through the tunnels beneath New York City.
Neither one spoke, only watched one another warily. The young man at Sara's side slid into the available seat next to her and slung a casual arm around her, unconsciously staking his claim. He leaned into her, nuzzled her neck and whispered something into her ear, but she was oblivious to the man's attentions. Greg was all she saw.
Sara did her best to pull her attention back to her date, but she found she could not. Her gaze hungrily raked over his features, his large brown eyes, his hair, his long fingers, and back to his mouth. She felt her mouth go dry with thirst for him; for all that she had walked away from. It had been so long, it was almost like home.
The train stopped and Greg stood without saying a word. He gave a curt nod to her and got off when the doors whooshed open.
He didn't look back, not even when he heard the man shout her name. Not even when he heard the train rumble loudly as it made its way once again. Not even when he heard her call out to him.
"Damn it, Greg. Just look at me."
He couldn't though. He couldn't allow himself to see her again, not after she left the way she did.
When he felt her hand on his sleeve, he shrugged her off, and did his best to continue up the steps to the street. If she hadn't grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him against the wall, he probably would have walked all the way back to his hotel room and never seen her again.
As it was, she wasted no time. Her hands held his shoulders against the cold wall of the stairwell, her hips pressed into his, and she kissed him. It was as chaste as he could manage as heat rushed through his body in reaction to her proximity.
Gaining his wits, he pushed her back and swiped a sleeve across his lips, like a petulant child. "No, Sara. You don't get to do that. You don't get to just kiss me."
She lowered her gaze, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ..." She turned to walk away, but this time it was he who reached out to her.