Just Distraction

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Or is it?

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(Post No Humans Involved, pre Who Shot Sherlock?)

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She recognized at once the need in his expression; how he only wanted to forget the horror he literally stumbled over during shift. As she watched him sit down on the bench in the locker room slowly, detachedly going through the motions of changing his sneakers, and shedding his field vest and hanging it haphazardly in his locker, she felt her heart crack like thin ice at witnessing the change in his demeanor. She had never seen him quite so serious, quite so dejected, before.

The case had really affected him, and she cursed herself for not thinking more about his emotions, and scolded herself for not remembering that he was new to all of this. It was a constant problem. She kept forgetting that he hadn't been out in the field with them all along. They all did. They were all really hard on him, expected level three results from him; treated him as if he had been by their side their whole careers. Damn them for forgetting that he was a rookie. Damn her for assuming that he was okay, for not checking up on him. It was her job, and she had neglected him.

"How about breakfast, Greg?"

"I'm not hungry, thanks though." His voice was small, distant, and she frowned. Lab rat Greg would have tossed her a suggestive grin, acquiesced, all the while wondering in an endearing manner whether breakfast could count as a date. This wasn't lab rat Greg anymore, however, this was CSI Greg. It wasn't that she didn't like CSI Greg, she did. She found his dedication and professionalism a bit of a turn on, even though he hadn't yet passed his final proficiencies.

She closed her locker, content to watch his slight form as he stood, and reached into his locker to retrieve his jacket. His jeans hung loosely on him, looser than they had in the past, and his muscles along his shoulders danced under his shirt quietly as he rummaged through the back of his locker to find something. She was so stupid. It was her job to look out for him; he was her student. She had just assumed that he would be able to handle this case, that he would be skipping out of the locker room after shift with the same childish grin on his face, ready to head off to the one class he had left before attaining his Master's degree.

"I'm so sorry, Greg."

"For what?" He didn't turn to face her immediately, but stuffed a textbook in his bag before shutting his locker quietly first. When he did shift his gaze to her, his expression remained steeled, set, but his eyes couldn't lie to her, they relayed the pain and remorse he was really feeling. She was a horrible mentor.

"For thinking you could handle this case without help."

"I'm okay, Sara, I'm just not hungry." He offered her a casual half smile, but it left the room dark, unlike his usual grin. "I've got a paper to work on, and class in a few hours, and-"

"Coffee then. If you've got things to do."

"Sara, really. It's okay. I'm fine." He knew he was being a jerk, but this case had gotten to him, had really shook him, and now all he wanted to do was forget it ever happened. They both knew he was lying, but Sara chose not to confront him about it. Instead she closed the distance between them, coming to stand a few inches before him.

"What do you need, Greg?" The words tumbled out in a whisper, and she bit her lip, rummaging around in his expression for his troubles. He smiled sadly, and glanced at the door, and back at her before answering.

"Nothing, I'm fine. I think I'm just going to get some rest before class. I'm exhausted. Be glad when this Master's is finished." He started to move, intent on making his way around her and out of the lab, but she laid a gentle hand on his hip, and he stopped, bringing his eyes to hers again.

"What do you really need, Greg?" Her voice had a soothing quality to it that was just as good as truth serum, and he found himself unable to lie to her anymore.

"To forget. I just need to forget." Her heart broke along with his resolve, and she reached up to ruffle his hair affectionately, but slid her fingers through his short hair, making it stand even more on end, settling her gentle grip at the base of his neck, and pulling him to her, catching his lips with hers softly. It surprised both of them, but Greg acted first, pressing a hand along the small of her back, pulling her hip against his own, encouragingly. Sara tugged at the collar of his quiet oxford shirt, parting her lips carefully, willingly granting him access. He broke away from her, knitting his brow in concentration, and quickly scanning her expression to gauge her reaction to- well, he supposed it was him who was reacting, he had always thought he'd be the one to kiss her first. He let his lip curve up into a smile, and she arched an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"What?"

"You kissed me." There was an endearing awe in his voice, like he couldn't believe what she had just done, and she nodded, unable to refrain from returning his smile with a small one of her own. Sara, in instinct started to step out of his hold, but Greg refused to let her, gently pulling her back against him, his fingers lingering on the waistband of her jeans. "Wait." His smile softened, and she felt him hook his thumbs into the belt loops at her hips. She relaxed against him, relieved that her attempt at a distraction, however impulsive, had worked. His soft smile had morphed into something reminiscent of the lopsided grin he usually had. There was a gentle sparkle in his eye, and she had already formulated a plan by the time his lips brushed against hers again.

Greg was going to miss his class.

She pushed him away reluctantly, not wanting Nick or Warrick to walk in on their moment, but not wanting to step out of his touch either. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, tasting him still and already addicted.

"How are you okay, after what we saw today?"

"Today is over. Shift is over. Forget about it until tomorrow."

"I can't." His voice cracked under the heavy weight of his heart, and she brushed a tear from his cheek. "I can't get it out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, I'm tripping over that box all over again." She slid a hand suggestively down the front of his shirt, resting her fingers on the metal of his belt buckle, smiling a bit broader as he inhaled a breath sharply, in reaction to her touch.

"So you need a distraction, then." She wasn't thinking any longer, flickering her gaze to his lip and back to his eyes, she realized there was no getting out of this. He nodded, the irises of his eyes darkening to a deep espresso color that had her shifting her weight carefully, trying to regain control over her own arousal. Distractions. She could be a distraction. Grissom had said she needed one. She supposed he could be a good distraction as well. A very good distraction. Wasn't that the job of a mentor? Cater to your student's needs?

"Sara-" She watched as the rational part of his mind took control over his appetitive, and she cocked an eyebrow at him, witnessing proof of Plato's theory of the Tripartite Soul as he tried in vain to come up with a reason why he shouldn't just take her right there on the locker room bench.

"I can't tell you how to cope with cases like that, Greg, but I can help you learn to forget, at least for a few hours." She smiled kindly at him, and stepped over the bench, stooping to pick up her bag and her keys. "You know where I am." With that, Sara left the locker room, and made her way to the parking lot, pulling out onto the early morning traffic without looking back. He was going to do one of two things, call in the next six minutes, or show up on her doorstep in fifteen.

………

He wasn't sure exactly how he managed to get inside her apartment, or, for that matter, how the ended up leaving a trail of clothes down the hall on the way to her bedroom. Suddenly, he couldn't get enough. He wanted to touch her everywhere, his fingers leaving a trace of warmth after his gentle touch. He tumbled her over onto her back, landing on top of her, pressing her into the mattress suggestively.

She arched into him as he pressed a slow, gentle, unbelievably ungentlemanly kiss to her mouth, eliciting a soft moan, even as her fingers made short work of his belt and jeans. He shoved his hips against hers, increasing the pressure, and flicked open the buttons of her shirt in one fluid motion. He turned his attention to her chest, making his way down from her collarbone, slowly down.

"Greg!" She feigned protest but her breathing became increasingly erratic as he flicked her nipple, teasing it before shifting against her, and reclaiming her mouth. His fingers brushed against the button of her jeans, opening then quickly. She didn't protest as he hitched up her hips and slid her pants down her thighs, without breaking their kiss.

She pushed him off her, ignoring the flash of concern that crossed his features briefly, before climbing on top of him and relieving him of his jeans. She tossed him a reassuring smile, and ground into his hip as she pressed a kiss to his mouth. She laughed against his lips as his fingers slipped past the elastic of her panties, feeling the curve of her hips and pulling her against him roughly, flipping her over onto her back again abruptly.

He leaned over her, pressing into her, pausing as if anticipating her refusal.

"You going to fuck me or do you need an invitation?" She breathed into his kiss, and he laughed, kissing her soundly before answering.

"You sure about this?"

"Are you kidding me?" She pulled back, examining his expression, and touching the side of his face with her palm lovingly, before ruffling his hair and laying back against the pillow, running her fingers soothingly along his arm. "At first, I thought this was about what you needed. Now," she smiled softly, biting her lip, slightly swollen from his kisses. "I need you just as much." He smiled sweetly at her, and for a brief moment, she thought this is what Greg must have looked like as a child, and he leaned over her once again, bringing the pace down to excruciatingly slow.

He pressed feather soft kisses from her jaw to her collarbone, hooking his finger around a side of her panties and dragging them off her slight frame before settling between her thighs again. He brushed against her intimately, and she inhaled sharply from the contact. Greg shifted again, and she winced in anticipation, eagerly accepting his gentle kiss, breathing out a soft moan as he pushed into her.

And then, it was more than just a distraction.

For both of them.

………

Sara woke from her peaceful sleep with the morning Nevada sun shining brightly in her eyes. She squinted tiredly, rolling away from the fresh sunshine, coming face to face with the sleeping man beside her. She suppressed a grin, settling into the pillow and blankets silently. This should be creeping her out. Waking up next to Greg, she never imagined herself here, or rather, him here; this was her bed, after all. She reached up impulsively, and brushed her fingertips along the contours of the side of his face, pushing back a lock of short brown hair out of his eyes.

He stirred slightly, scrunching up his nose in a sharp inhale of air, and snuggled into the pillow. She smiled at his child-like features, the smooth shape of his jaw, which had become rough with stubble, and the gentle fall of his hair, starting to rebel and twinge with a curl she always suspected was there. She let her fingers touch the hair at the back of his neck, cupping his jaw with her palm ever so softly. The corner of his mouth curved into a mischievous smirk, and she was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of his hand slipping around the curve of her hip, and tracing a path to the small of her back. Her fingers dropped to his arm, feeling the subtle traces of muscle on his slight frame, as he flexed his arm, pulling her hips closer to his own, laying his elbow in the dip in her side. She leaned closer, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, laughing into him as he responded, pulling her flush with him, and rolling onto his back, taking her with him.

"This should be awkward." Greg mumbled against her lips. He settled back comfortably, however, popping his head up with the pillow and clasping his hands together casually across the small of her back. She smiled at his attempt at early morning humor. They fit into each other easily, leaving awkward behind. This was comfortable. She felt at home here more than she felt at home curled up on her couch. Sara had a fleeting thought that she should never let Greg leave her bed, she had never felt so completely safe, completely loved, as she did right now. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and smiled lazily at her.

"Nah." She smiled like a teenager as he tightened his arms around the small of her back, and she couldn't stop herself from touching his almost curly hair.

"Not really a curly person." He laughed, and she shook her head.

"No, I like it, makes you look more like a sexy musician than the science nerd you are."

"You'd rather sleep with a musician than a scientist?"

"I don't mind sleeping with a scientist that looks like you."

"That's fortunate." She smiled at him, but he had closed his eyes, running his hands along the length of her back. "I always wanted to be a rock star, though." The childish grin the played at his lip made her smile, and she pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

"Greg?"

"Mmhmm."

"How was that for a distraction?" He laughed, flipping her over and pressing a childish kiss to the underside of her jaw.

"That was the best distraction I've ever had."

"Me too." He cut her off, catching her lips again in a gentle kiss, and vaguely she wondered if they had enough time to become distracted again before having to head back to the lab.

………

A/N: had a lot of fun with this. Goes a bit further than the other 'Just' one shots, but I'm pleased with it.