Author's note: Before I get messages regarding loopholes, etc., I know that Kelly Gordon died on the show; however, this is an old story that I'm finally finishing, so please bear with me.
Artwork and other tidbits regarding this story are over at my myspace page.
Equilibria-L.-n.-A condition in which no further net change is occurring in a system, and free energy is minimal.
They neared the break room, Sofia smiling, Grissom mumbling something, and said their goodbyes. Promised something Sara couldn't hear.
He headed for the coffee pot and Sara didn't look up from the file. She sat leaned back in the chair, her feet propped up on the desk; she took a bite of apple and chewed it loudly.
"Hey Nick, what're you doing later?" She didn't dare look at him, but she knew Grissom's head turned.
Nick turned the page of the sports section.
"Watchin' TV, I guess." He sipped his coffee and then looked up. "Why?"
"Want some company?"
Nick cleared his throat and glanced at Grissom, who looked away, pretending not to care.
"Uh, sure," he shrugged, "I guess so."
Nick opened the door and Sara waltzed in, making a beeline for the refrigerator. She put the six-pack in, took her coat off and turned, and grinned.
"Nice apron, Chef Stokes."
Nick closed the door and rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha, funny."
He stirred the sauce on the stove and Sara stood beside him. "Hey that actually smells edible."
"Y'know, unlike you, Sara, some people actually do cook."
Sara tapped him in the arm and went into the living room.
"What's on?" she asked, picking up the remote, and Nick set the table.
"Idaknow, I just had it on for the noise."
Sara flipped through the channels before turning the TV off. She walked to the stereo and looked through Nick's CDs. She turned it on and hit play, smiling at the soft country tune that wafted out.
"Spaghetti?"
Nick turned, almost bumping into her. He took the apron off and tossed it onto the counter. "Yeah. No meat."
Sara got two beers from the fridge and sat down at the table.
She grinned and Nick could've sworn she blushed.
"No meat?"
"Mm-hmm."
Nick placed the pan of sauce on the table by the bowl of spaghetti, tossed the salad once more, and sat down.
Sara opened the beers and handed him one, clinking her bottle against his. "Cheers," and she turned the bottle up.
Nick looked at her.
"Easy there, Sunshine."
Sara's brows furrowed and she nodded and put the beer down.
Nick made a plate for himself and began to eat. Sara did the same and then took a bite and glanced at him. "This is really good," she managed in between chews, and Nick smiled. "Thank you, Ms. Sidle. I'll take that as a compliment."
"Mmm."
Nick smiled again.
"Where'd you learn to cook, anyway?" she asked, swigging her beer.
Nick swallowed. "I used to watch my mom when she was in the kitchen." He shrugged. "Got tired of burritos," he added with a wink, and Sara smiled.
They were quiet as they ate and when the CD player switched CDs Nick stood up and headed for the stereo.
"Leave it on."
Nick looked at her and fumbled with the remote. "I'll find something else, here…"
"Why?"
Travis Tritt's voice bellowed out the romantic tune and Nick scoffed, pushing buttons.
Sara grinned and finished eating, started clearing the table.
He finally turned the stereo off, put his hands on his hips. "Wanna watch TV?"
Sara looked up from putting dishes in the dishwasher. "Sure."
She grabbed another beer from the fridge and sat down on the sofa.
Nick turned on the TV and joined her, flipped through the channels.
"Thanks for letting me come over."
Nick glanced at her. "No problem."
He turned the TV to CNN, watched it mindlessly for a few minutes before glancing at Sara, who was finishing her beer.
He cleared his throat. "I thought you quit?"
Sara scoffed. "Yeah."
She sighed. "It's just that Grissom…y'know?" She stood up and walked to the fridge.
Nick nodded, turned back to the TV.
Sara finished the beer, got another one, and sat back down.
"I mean it's not like I haven't given him time. Six years. That's enough time, right? And he wants to just blow me off and ignore me and hook up with Spork."
"Who is 'Spork'?"
Sara rolled her eyes: she hadn't meant to let that slip.
"Sofia."
Nick laughed. "Well what's a Spork?"
"Useless utensil," Sara mumbled in between gulps of beer, and Nick laughed again.
"Sara, everybody sees how Grissom treats you, y'know…what I don't get is why'd you'd keep trying after that."
She shrugged. "I just want to be over it…just…over. But somehow, I can't. I hate him for it."
Nick looked at her, waiting for her to add something to the effect of, "But I love him," but she didn't.
"How can a person be so closed off, so cold and emotionless like that? I just don't understand it. How can you hide yourself like that?" She shook her head. "No sadness, no anger, no love…"
"You'd be surprised what people could hide."
Nick said it without thinking.
Sara shot him a look. "Yeah, like what?"
Nick shrugged. "Idaknow, Sar…lots of things. Things people don't want other people to know. Don't you have any secrets?"
Sara snorted. "I have secrets, but I'm not a robot."
"Naw, you're just one big ray of sunshine, right?" Nick chuckled. "I've seen you when you haven't slept in a few days, Sara. It isn't pretty." He paused. "You're not the best at social interaction, either."
Sara looked at him. "Anything else you'd like to add there, while you're psychoanalyzing me?"
Nick glanced at her shirt and watched the TV again. "Blue is a very good color on you."
Sara smiled.
They stared at the television, blurred images of a riot someplace, and Nick scoffed.
"Look at 'em, running around like crazy." He sipped his beer. "Makes you wonder who the real criminals are."
Sara nodded to herself. She sat back on the couch and stretched, let her eyes wander around the room and then come to focus on Nick.
The first thing that came to mind was him storming into the interrogation room…
"Where is she?!"
The second thing that came to mind was the look on his face when he'd said, "I was rescued," and the third thing? She didn't really let that enter her mind too much. But, here she was, sitting next to him on his sofa, in his apartment, relaxing, drinking a beer…the only other mundane thing to do was talk about the weather, she figured, and she didn't want to do that.
So she blurted it, and regretted it instantly.
"What?" Nick scoffed, shook his head, and took a gulp of beer.
Sara swallowed and shrugged. "What was it like?"
Nick shook his head again, forced a smile, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He glared at the television and Sara saw his jaw clench.
"Nick?"
He stood up quickly and looked down at her. He was quite tall, now. "Y'know, Sara, I thought…I hoped…you wouldn't be like everyone else." He sighed. "If this is why you wanted to come over then I think it's best if you just leave. Right now." He had his hands on his hips, and suddenly Sara felt very small.
"I'm sorry…" She didn't know what else to say. She didn't know why she'd thought it, let alone said it out loud, and now, for some reason she couldn't ascertain, she felt like crying. When the tears stung her eyes she stood up.
Nick crossed his arms and looked at her. When Sara met his eyes she realized she was standing no more than a few steps away from him. She couldn't hide it, and a tear ran down her cheek.
Nick's brows furrowed and he looked away and then back.
"Sara, I don't mean to sound so nasty about it, but…"
"No, no," she said, clearing her throat. She wiped fiercely at her eyes. "It's not about that. I don't know why I said that. Comparing notes, maybe?" she added with a laugh, and Nick stared at her.
"I mean, I was never in the situation you were in, you know, but, uh…" Her voice trailed off and she cursed, laughed a bit, and shook her head. "I imagine you're still trying to work through stuff, right?" She asked finally, and Nick nodded.
She picked up her coat. "Yeah, me too," she said, sounding exhausted now, and Nick touched her arm.
"Sar?"
She pulled her coat on and looked at him.
"Does it get any better at all?" His eyes were misted over, and in that moment Sara saw him for the first time. "Do the nightmares subside?" He swallowed hard, tried to hide it, but his teary eyes and quivering chin wouldn't let him.
Sara went to him, held him, and Nick broke in her arms.
"Sshh, sshh," she whispered over and over, smoothing his dark hair; (it was all she knew to do) and for once, she felt okay holding someone.
"I don't know, Nick," she said after a few minutes. "Some days it's not too bad. Other days…certain cases, perps…the weather," she chuckled, "I don't know."
Nick rose up and wiped his eyes. "Damn. I'm sorry."
Sara shrugged, "It's okay."
Nick hugged her then, sighing deeply, and he kissed her on the forehead.
Sara leaned her head against his chest a moment, feeling his heartbeat, fast and heavy, through his tee shirt, and he rested his cheek on her head.
She pulled away and looked up at him, and when he kissed her she staggered. He held her against him, his strong arms almost hurting her, and when he broke the kiss he looked at her quizzically.
He said nothing. He wondered if she was all right with it, if he could do it again, could he do more…
Too many "ifs" and questions ran through his mind as she stood there silent, looking at him, and he decided to take a chance.
"Sara…I know you're in love with Grissom, and I know it would never go anywhere…but…" He sighed, "…have you ever thought about me?"
"I'm not 'in love' with Grissom," she shot. She was defensive again. Denying it again. Avoiding the question.
She stared into his eyes, seeing her reflection there, and realized, all at once, that she was no better than Gil when it came to confrontation and matters of the heart.
She looked away.
Nick stepped closer to her, his arms hanging loosely down; he was wide open and unafraid now, and he asked again. "In anything other than a professional capacity, have you ever thought about me?"
Sara swallowed and felt hot. She likened it to too much alcohol again, but wished she'd drunk herself into a stupor tonight.
If she answered no she would hurt him. Hurt him like she'd been hurt so many times. And honestly? She'd be a liar, too. She never let her thoughts of Nick pan out the way she had her thoughts of Grissom, though. She always felt bad when she thought of Nick like that. She felt if she thought of Nick that way, she'd be 'cheating' on Grissom. Although he'd never returned her advances, or given her anything more than a quick look or remark, something wouldn't let her let him go, and she hated herself, and him, for it. She wanted to get on with her life, tried, even, but nothing seemed to work.
If she answered yes she'd have to get on with it, and that scared her more than anything. Scared her that she'd be stepping into the unknown with a co-worker. A co-worker who wasn't Gil Grissom. She thought a moment, getting angry, and looked at Nick. Still questioning with his eyes, holding his arms at his sides…wanting but afraid. She knew it all to well. Question was, however, how long? Had she been blind to Nick the way Grissom had to her? Had she hurt him the way Grissom had hurt her? Had he waited years, too? What would happen if she said yes? If she stayed tonight? Did he even want her to stay? Had he thought about it? What about work? What about Catherine and Warrick and Greg and Brass and Doc? What if they showed up at work together in the morning? Or any other morning? What about Grissom?
She looked at Nick.
"I know you're in love with Grissom, and I know it would never go anywhere, but…"He was willing to take the chance, but why? Did he need her, or just need someone tonight?
He stood inches from her, waiting.
"Nick…why are you doing this? I wanna help you, but not like this." She looked at him, "I don't want to be with you because you need someone tonight…"
"And I don't wanna be your lapse from Grissom that you'd hate in the morning."
He hadn't missed a beat.
He put his hands on her waist. Her back was against the wall and his body was touching hers, close enough to feel the warmth from him.
Sara laughed a little, "We're both so screwed up…"
Nick stared at her, unmoved. His hands rubbed her back gently.
She slid away from him and cleared her throat, moved to the other side of the living room. She put a hand on her hip and rubbed her forehead with the other.
"You're uh, you're wrong about Grissom, ya know."
Nick, too, put a hand on his hip, held his weight with the other on the doorframe.
Sara tugged on the bottom of her coat. "I mean, I wouldn't hate you."
Nick smiled and walked to her. "And you had to come way over here to tell me that?"
She shrugged. "This is weird, Nick."
He laughed. "I make you feel weird?" He put his hands up and took a step back. "It's all right, I get it."
Sara looked around the room helplessly. She didn't know what the hell was happening.
"Nervous," she said with a loud sigh, and Nick turned around.
"Why can't you just forget about Grissom?"
He hit the nail on the head.
"You don't think he goes home and pines over you, do you? What about Terri and Lady Heather and Sofia?"
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because I'm sick of him hurting you, Sara, and damnit, you should be, too!"
Sara tightened her coat and walked past him, out the door.
Nick stood there a moment and then tossed the beer bottles into the trashcan.
Nick finished his coffee and stood up. Greg entered the room and sighed.
"You got called, too, huh?"
Nick nodded. They'd been called in early to work a new lead from a previous case.
"Gotta love the all nighters."
Greg glanced at him. "Oh yeah? Why were you up all night?" He frowned. "Did Sara come over?"
Nick looked at him. "We watched TV, Greg."
Greg sighed. "Oh, okay."
Sara came on shift later that night, looking tired and hung over. She'd hoped to avoid Nick, but his was the first face she saw, in the locker room.
They said nothing.