A/N: This is the first story I've posted to in about a million years. The storyline itself was conceived after spending the day watching Spike, A&E and Showcase, and all their lovely CSI reruns. I don't own anything except for the OC mentioned, and even then, she's just a floaty name at this point. Any mistakes that were missed are all my own fault. It is a Nick POV, heavy on the Snickers, but mentions GSR and Nick/OC. Who knows exactly where I was going with this! I sure don't. But hopefully this gets my butt into gear and I get to writing fiction again, 'cause oh gee, I missed it so. Enjoy!
Nick Stokes didn't think he was a complicated man at all. In fact, he thought he was quite simplistic compared to most men. He wasn't like Warrick Brown, who (when faced with how indefinite and short life can be) went and got himself married to a woman he could barely claim to know. He wasn't like Greg Sanders, who believed the answer to life was to just live it and rock hard, and hold on for the ride. He wasn't like Jim Brass, who lived his life for the job, and neglected everything else because it was all that seemed to matter.
And he most definitely wasn't like Gil Grissom, who was internal, socially inept, and an all around cryptic guy. But he couldn't really bash Grissom all that much, because he seemed to hold the attention and affection of the one woman he wished would give him a second glance. He couldn't really figure it out. What exactly did Gil Grissom have that he didn't? What made Grissom so much better that Sara Sidle would chose him instead?
Hunkered down in his living room, a couple fingers of scotch poured into the glass he held, he thinks maybe he shouldn't dwell on it too much. So what if he thinks he's been a little in love with her since the day he met her? It could all be a fluke. It's not as if he hasn't been with anyone else since that fateful day Sara breezed in from San Francisco. He had. He's even felt more than a little ambiguous about a few of them. Gotten pretty serious with a couple others. And it's not like she ever thrown out signals that made him think she could ever feel something towards him that wasn't some kind brotherly love.
But there are some days he does dwell on it, wonders about what life would be like if he could have her in his life the way he wants her to be. If he could come home after a long shift and find her curled up on the couch waiting for him. Wonders what it would be like to drop a kiss on her waiting lips just because he could. To feel her body warm against his as she slept the day away in his bed. To have her love him, the way he wanted to be loved... the way he loved her.
But what good was it, really, to play the "what if" game? He knows what he is. He's the cocky Texan Frat Boy, with the charming good looks and the all-encompassing smile. She's probably never thought of him as anything more than a friend because he exuded a confidence that suggested "womanizer". And though it wasn't something he was exactly proud of being, he really couldn't deny that there are times when that is what he is. She probably had him pegged right off the bat. She was really good at observing people that way.
If he really let himself think about it, if he numbed himself to the pain of thinking of them together, he knows why Sara chose Gil over him. They were alike in so many ways; different in enough ways to keep them together. They were both exceptionally smart, they both loved their work as CSIs, and they both preferred solitude to groups of people. Their differences (She was more outgoing than he was; he had his head screwed on more tightly than she did; she knew how to cut loose every once in a while; he knew the value of patience and honesty) brought out the best in each other, and they really were quite perfectly balanced.
Almost. The little voice in his head kept trying to tell him that he would be perfect for Sara, and the only reason he wasn't currently being there for her, being perfect for her, was his own damn fault. He didn't really have an explanation for why he didn't act on his feelings right away, but he was afraid of how deeply he'd felt for a person he'd just met. He was afraid that the seriousness that came hand-in-hand with his feelings for her would scare her away. So instead, his game plan included being chummy, making her at ease with him. But unfortunately, life threw him a curveball. It had the opposite effect on her and now he would forever be the good friend.
But he should have known it would happen that way. Wasn't life forever throwing him curveballs? Stalkers, getting kidnapped, getting thrown out of a window, murdered almost girlfriends, having guns aimed at his head believing he was going to die, being buried alive, almost being blown to bits... He should have known the Man upstairs wasn't going to let him get off scot-free. He should have known that she'd never choose him. Who would choose a man who was a magnet for trouble?
He needed to let it all go. He understood. Sara wasn't his to have. She wasn't even his to dream about. She was so far out of his league that it hurt. She was too good for him. And he was going to let it go. What good would it do to pine for someone, a life, that he could never have?
So he was going to pick up the phone, call that sweet little blonde he'd been dating the past couple months, and just live life the way he was supposed to. Men from Texas settle down with sweet little blondes named Lyssa, moved to a big house with a huge yard, had children and lived a long and happy life, didn't they? It's what he wanted. He wanted to have a wife, children, a home and a career that he could be proud of. He's always wanted that. He thinks maybe he always will.
He closes his eyes, imagines this wonderful life, maps it out in his head. He sees himself coming home, kicking off his shoes as he closes the front door behind him. He can see his wife snuggled in a blanket, bathed in the flickering light of the television in an otherwise darkened room. He pads silently across floor to the couch, drops a kiss to her forehead, and a soft smile appears on her face. As he's watching her, he can hear the muffled voices of his children who are up way past their bedtime. But he'll let it slide because it's the weekend. He sits by his wife's feet, her blonde hair hiding her face from him, and he thinks he feels content.
In his daydream, he closes his eyes, blinks really, and opens them to find himself laying on his bed, his arms holding a woman close to his body. He takes a deep breath, and the scent that reaches him is the scent he's always associated with Sara: lavender. He instantly realizes that the woman he has cradled against his chest IS Sara, her brown hair curling softly around her face, fanning out on the pillow beneath her head, and gently tickling his face as he breathes in and out softly. His arms tighten involuntarily, and he can hear her sharp intake of breath as her hands go to cover his over her stomach.
"I'm not going anywhere, Nicky," she says with a hint of a chuckle. And the feeling that washes over him is happiness, elation... no beyond that. Blissful. She's here, in his arms, and she's going to stay with him.
Again he hears children nearby, shushing each other and giggling. Sara sighs lightly, as she rubs her thumb gently across his hand. "I take it you're not going to go in there and get them to quiet down, are you? You spoil our kids rotten."
And again he feels the that beautiful feeling roll throw him, knowing that his dream of a life with Sara has come true...
Only to be startled out of his dream by the ringing of his cell phone. He grabs it off the nearby table and glances at the caller ID. "Lyssa" is flashing on the screen, and he knows he should answer the phone. But he can't bring himself to do it on the heels of such a painfully real dream. It wouldn't be fair to her to pretend that everything was alright between them, when he's beginning to see that there is a larger picture he must consider here.
He understands now that there's a very huge flaw with his plan of a relationship with Lyssa. The very real problem of settling with a person you don't quite love means that you'll forever be looking over your shoulder for the one that you do. And even though he can't have her now, doesn't mean that Sara will never be someone he could have a future with. He's waited this long... 6 years now. What's a few more in the grand scheme of things? The dream-memory of having Sara as his wife, mother of his children, warmed his heart and filled him with hope.
Oh yes, he could wait just a little while longer.
