Overheard

Chapter Three


Greg walked into his apartment, shut the door and locked it. He
tossed his keys on the end table and went into the kitchen. He opened
the fridge and spotted the leftovers from the other night. He brought
them out and placed them in the microwave.

"Two minutes should do it," he said as he closed the door and
pressed "start."

He leaned against the counter and sighed. He had never felt so
miserable in his life. How could he let Sara affect him like this?
Why couldn't he have feelings for someone who would actually
reciprocate?

He shook his head as the microwave buzzed. The noise made him jump,
yanking him out of his thoughts. He removed the plate and stepped
into the living room. He sat on the couch then realized he forgot to
get something to drink.

Greg went back into the kitchen when the phone rang. He stared at it
as if he hadn't seen one before. He sighed and picked up the
receiver.

"Hello?" Greg asked, wondering who called him.

"It's Sara," her voice caused a jolt of desire to flow through him
and he shivered. Even her voice affected him. If she only knew what
she did to him.

"How are you feeling?"

Greg rolled his eyes, "I'm fine. What is it?"

"Another victim was found ten minutes ago. You want to go?"

Greg thought about it, knowing he would be near her for an hour or
more. He didn't know if he could keep himself together for such a
long time. Of course, she might need his help and he was never one to
ignore a damsel in distress.

"Yes," he answered. "Do you want me to meet you there?"

"No. You're on the way, so I'll pick you up."

"I'll be here," he said then hung up.

Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She would be coming
here. Something he always wanted her to do, but not like this. He
had pictured dozens of scenarios where he would take her back here
after a date. Scenarios which would include a trip to his bedroom and
end with her in his arms.

Of course, none of them had her saying terrible words about him.

Sighing, he decided to finish his dinner before Sara arrived.

Sara drove toward Greg's apartment, her thoughts not on the case. She
was concerned about Greg. He wasn't himself and it worried her.
Something was wrong and he wasn't talking.

She had asked Grissom about it, hoping he would have the answer.
Grissom was at a loss as well only telling her Greg would talk
eventually. She would get it out of him, no matter what it took.

She pulled into the parking lot, turned off the car and stepped out.
She locked her car then headed into the building and up the stairs.

As she headed down the hall, her thoughts were on Greg and his recent
behavior. She couldn't remember a time when he acted so aloof and
withdrawn. She wanted to get to the bottom of it and now.

Sara knocked on Greg's door and waited for him to answer. She thought
of what she would say to him when the door opened. She smiled at him
then saw the look in his eyes. The smile faded and she averted her
eyes. The look, devoid of his usual sparkle sent a chill down her
spine.

"Are you ready to go?" Sara asked as she gathered her courage.

"Yes," Greg answered as he stepped into the hall. He closed the door,
locking it.

"Let's go," he said, heading down the hall.

Sara felt her heart sink as she followed him.

What's wrong with him? She wondered as she caught up with him. What
could cause him to act like this?

She unlocked her car and climbed into the driver's seat. Greg sat
beside her, a little too quiet for her. She glanced at him and
decided now was a good time as any to talk to him.

Sara pulled out of the lot and onto the street. She headed toward
their destination, biding her time as she gathered her thoughts.

"You've been acting strange lately, Greg," she began. "What's wrong?"

Greg didn't look at her or answer. She sighed, not knowing what she
expected him to do or say. Frustration began to build and the urge
to strangle him grew.

"Why do you care?" Greg asked after several minutes.

Sara glanced at him in surprise. He should know why she cared.

"You're my friend, Greg. I'm worried about you."

The laugh that came from him sent chills down her spine. Her worry
turned into fear as she pulled to the side of the road and parked.
She stared at him, demanding he look at her.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Greg? Tell me!"

Greg stared at her then, a flash of anger in his dark eyes.

At least I got a reaction out of him, Sara thought.

"You're what's wrong with me," Greg said calmly, a complete contrast
to the fire in his eyes.

Sara looked at him in surprise. She was his problem?

"What do you mean?"

Greg averted his gaze, his posture one of defeat. He sighed as he
stared out the window.

"I have feelings for you," he answered softly. "You know that."

"Yes, I do. Are you telling me your feelings for me are making you
act like this?"

Greg shook his head and turned his dark eyes to her. Her breath
caught as she looked at him. She wanted to take him in her arms and
banish that dismayed expression.

"No," he said. "What you said to Grissom caused this."

"What?" Sara asked, stunned.

Greg narrowed his eyes as he shook his head.

"I heard you, Sara. Your conversation with Grissom the other day. He
suggested dating me and you said I wasn't what you needed."

Sara was speechless for several minutes as his words sunk in. He had
overheard them? She shook her head, not believing.

"That's what's bothering you? What I said to Grissom?"

"You know how I feel about you, Sara, and it means nothing to you."

"Greg…"

"You've never cared about me did you?"

"That's insane, Greg," Sara said, stunned he would ever consider
such a thing.

"Is it? Tell me, would you really date me?"

Sara blinked at his question. She hadn't expected him to ask that.
She turned her attention to the windshield, not wanting to see the
pain in his eyes. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'll take that as a `no'," Greg said.

"I don't know, Greg. You have to believe I care about you."

"Let's go. Brass is probably wondering where we are."

Sara started the car and resumed their course. She wasn't going to
let him off so easily. She would find a way to continue the
conversation even if she had to corner him in the bathroom.