Title: For Now: Staying

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sara/Warrick

Spoilers: None

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate () , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Summary: It shouldn't hurt, but it does.

Notes: Companion piece to "For Now: Leaving" and written due to a momentary brain lapse when I mis-typed the first line for the LiveJournal FirstLines1000 challenge.

***

It shouldn't hurt, but it does.

Which is why Sara does the only thing she can; she escapes. She only gets as far as the locker room before her legs give out and she sinks gratefully onto one of the benches there, rubbing a tired hand over her face, sure she's safe. After all, Day Shift are already working, while Graveyard personnel have either left or are partying in the room she's just escaped from.

She knows she can't stay here too long, knows someone will miss her sooner or later. But for now, she's safe, or at least that's what she thinks.

She soon finds out she's wrong when there's a tentative knock on the door, and it opens just enough for a voice to sneak through. "Everyone decent in there?"

An automatic smile comes to her face, an automatic response from her lips. "Would it stop you if I weren't?"

"Hell no." He takes her comment as permission to enter, as he should, and the smile on his lips falters only momentarily when he sees the look on her face.

She's afraid of what his next words might be, so she jumps in with, "Can the party still go on without the guest of honour?"

He shrugs, sits down beside her. "I'll go back in a few minutes. Just wanted to check on you."

A lump makes its presence known in her throat, and she battles it down. "I was just going out for a smoke," she lies, badly, and he knows it too.

"You quit last year," he points out, adding after a significant pause, "Again."

The pause makes her chuckle and she reaches up, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "How do you know I haven't started again?"

"I know." He says it as if it's the most natural thing in the world, then breaks any tension that might be in the room by leaning in towards her, sniffing exaggeratedly. "Besides, I'm paid to observe."

"Not anymore." The words are out before she can stop them, and the truth insinuates itself between them, banishing any levity from the room.

"Sara…" he breathes, and she shakes her head violently, standing up.

"Don't Warrick," she says, staring unseeingly at the row of lockers. "I'm happy for you... honestly I am." And she is, because she knows he's a great musician, and that this tour is his dream job, that he's looking forward to it. She knows he's going to be amazing, that he has to leave. What she didn't know until today, until the cake in the break room, was how much she was going to miss him. "It's just… " That pesky lump blocks her throat again and she closes her eyes in pure frustration.

They fly open again when his hands land on her shoulders and she realises he's standing right behind her. "Just?" he prompts.

Sighing, she turns, shrugging in the hope of dislodging his hands, not sure whether to be upset or relieved when that doesn't happen. "You remember when we first met?" she asks him, and he blinks, the apparent non sequitur catching him unawares.

"I'm not likely to forget," he reminds her, obviously uncomfortable, and she smiles, not unkindly.

"I was thinking about that earlier," she tells him. "I was so down on you… I never thought we'd get along. And then, somewhere along the way…" There are tears in her eyes now, but she's too upset to be horrified. "You ended up becoming my best friend." She swallows, looking down as he rubs her shoulders. "And I'm really going to miss you."

"Sara…" In lieu of words, he rubs her shoulders again. "I'm leaving CSI," he tells her eventually. "I'm not leaving your life. We'll write, we'll call, there'll be visits… I'm coming back."

"I know, I know." She's told herself that, but it still hurts. "But it's not going to be the same."

His sigh ruffles the ends of her hair, and for a moment, she's sure that he's going to come out with some meaningless platitude about how she probably won't even notice he's gone, how she'll forget all about him after a few days. So she's surprised when he doesn't say anything at all, just pulls her into a hug. He wraps both his arms around her shoulders, rests his head on top of hers, and Sara's arms go automatically around his waist, holding on tight. They stay like that for a long moment, and he doesn't move when he whispers, "I'm gonna miss you too."

Another long moment passes, then they seem to come to the same conclusion at the same time, that they should step away from one another. Sara takes a deep breath, surprised when Warrick runs a hand down her arm, and she smiles self-consciously, tilting her head towards the door. "We should get back… see if there's any cake left."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Should be," he declares. "I told them to keep some when I saw you bolting."

The words make her look at him wide-eyed. "People know you went after me?"

"Just Nick. And Greg." The words are uttered with the air of utter innocence, save for the devilish twinkling of his eyes and Sara fights back a groan.

"You know what they're going to be saying, right?"

"Yeah." He shrugs, takes a step away from her, not accidentally she knows. "But I'll be gone in a few days, so I don't care that much."

He's still close enough that she can hit him, which she does, taken aback when he catches her hand in mid-air, folds his around it, is more taken aback at how comforting it is. "Come on," he says. "You owe me a dance."

Still smiling, she allows him to lead her back to the party, and there is cake and there is dancing.

And there is Warrick at her side, for now if not forever, and for now, Sara knows, it's enough.