"Nick, Warrick, trick roll at the Palms, Brass is already there." Grissom passed a piece of paper with the case details across the table to where the two CSI's sat. "Sara," Grissom looked down to his left where Sara sat absently flipping a pencil through her fingers. He waited a moment for Sara to look at him, or give some sign that she'd heard him, but her stare was a million miles away.
Grissom cleared his throat "Sara," he tried again a little louder, this time successfully breaking through her daze. Blinking, Sara glanced around the table, wondering why everyone was looking at her. Feeling Grissoms eyes, she glanced up to him "I'm sorry, Griss, did you say something?"
He didn't bother to answer her question, only gave her the details of her assignment, irritation evident in his voice.
"OK, that's it." Grissom picked up the files from the table in front of him and headed out the door, Catherine followed.
Warrick stood up and headed toward the door. Noticing Nick wasn't behind him, he glanced back over his shoulder to where Nick still sat at the table looking at Sara with concern. "You coming?"
"Yeah," Nick glanced over to Warrick "Be there in a minute."
Warrick shrugged his ok and left the room.
Nick sat quietly, studying Sara who had slipped back in to her coma like stare. After a few minutes, he got her attention. "Sara," he said quietly.
Again, she blinked and shifted her eyes at the sound of her name. She smiled at him. "Hey Nick."
"Sara, when's the last time you slept?"
"I sleep," she stated defensively.
"Ok, let me rephrase…When's the last time you slept more than a couple hours at a time?" Nick could guess the answer; she'd been getting worse at hiding her heartbreak over the past couple weeks. He knew Sara well enough to know that if she were getting more than a few hours a night, there's no way she would have let the veil over her disappointment slip to the point where Nick had asked Catherine what was up.
That was how he found out what Hank had done.
She moved her eyes away from his, embarrassed in her answer. "I don't…" she swallowed, "I don't actually know."
"OK," Nick stood up "meet me here at the end of shift."
When he reached the doorway, Sara stopped him. "What for?"
He paused and looked over at her, "Just meet me here Sara, OK?"
She blinked. "All right."
Hours later, back in the break room Nick sat in the same chair he'd occupied earlier and watched the doorway, waiting for Sara's appearance. He checked his watch one more time, and admitted to himself that she wasn't exactly late.
"Hey," Sara said from the doorway, her hands shoved deep in her jeans pockets. Nick looked up surprised, despite himself. She pulled her hands up and crossed them defensively over her chest, shy under his stare.
"Hey," he smiled as he stood and walked over to her. "You ready?"
He could read her body language, her arms crossed over her chest; he could tell she was uncomfortable. Trying to reassure her, he stopped next to her and put a light hand on her shoulder. "Trust me, ok?"
She became suddenly aware of her stance, and forced her face to relax, giving him an unnatural, but still sincere smile. Dropping her arms to her sides. "I trust you."
"Ok then," Nick smiled back and could feel Sara relax a bit more. "Come on then."
"Where're we going?" Sara let his hands turn her and guide her out the door and down the hall.
"You'll see," was all Nick would tell her.
"Bring us two Thanksgiving diners, but her's without the turkey please." Nick didn't even bother to look at the menu before he handed them back to waitress.
"What would you like to drink?" The red headed waitress looked up from her order pad, speaking to Nick, who was clearly in charge.
"Red wine, for both of us."
The waitress jotted down the drink order and silently moved away from the table.
Sara cocked an eyebrow, feeling invisible. "Thanks," she said sarcastically, "I would have hated to have to choose my own dinner."
"Look," Nick answered, folding his hands together on the tabletop in front of him and leaned in, meeting her stare head on. "You're not sleeping, and pretty soon you'll make a mistake on a case." He ignored her noises of protest and continued. "That'll get Ecklie on your back, second guessing everything you do, and you'll end up working more, sleeping even less, and making more mistakes. Won't be long before Ecklie would fire you, no matter what Gris said, and things would go downhill from there." Nick paused, letting his gloomy predictions sink in.
Sara stared at him, her mouth hanging open, aghast. She knew he was right. She'd lived that very future many times during her sleepless hours.
"So," Nick concluded, "forgive me if I'm abrupt. I like having you around the lab, and if ordering your dinner for you helps keep you there, then that's what I'll do." He shrugged, "I'm just selfish that way."
Sara blinked, processing his words. Knowing, even as she did so, that it was taking way to long for her tired brain to sort out what he'd said. After a moment, she smiled at him. "You're not selfish Nick."
He returned her smile slowly, worry etched in the creases around his eyes. The waitress arrived baring a basket of warm buttery bread and two glasses of red wine.
They were silent for a few moments, sipping the wine that cursed warmly through their veins. Sara picked at a roll, tearing off tiny pieces of feathery bread, studying then discarding each chunk as if she found them each not worthy of consuming.
"Are you gonna eat that, or dissect it?" Nick asked, quietly teasing.
To placate him, Sara took the piece of bread pinched in between her thumb and fingers and placed it slowly in her mouth. The fluffy morsel melted quickly on her tongue and she swallowed, the bread hitting her empty stomach, which rumbled. Sara was suddenly hungry, ravenous even, and tore a bigger piece from the roll, stuffing it quickly in her mouth. She barley had to chew at all, before the second piece melted as quickly as the first one, arousing her hunger even more.
Nick watched her as he ate his own roll, pleased that the effect he had hoped for was happening.
Their plates arrived, heaped with piles of mashed potatoes and stuffing, reminding Sara of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Sara surprised herself by digging in quickly, lifting forkfuls of potatoes, green beans and corn to her mouth, her stomach filling quickly, at the same time it rumbled for more.
Nick watched her, amused as he speared a piece of turkey on his own fork, his hand hovering half way between the plate and his mouth. Sara drained the rest of her wine, and Nick set his fork down, raising his hand to signal the waitress to bring them two more glasses.
The red head arrived with the bottle, refilling Sara's glass, and topping off Nick's own glass, barely touched. With a slight swipe of his hand, Nick let her know to leave the bottle. The waitress cocked her eyebrow a little, and eyed Sara's plate, already half empty. "Did you want to order desert now?" She asked slipping out her order pad from the pocket of the apron around her waist.
"Apple pie." Nick told her.
"You want two slices, or the whole thing?" The waitress asked, once again eyeing Sara as she mopped up mashed potatoes with the last piece of buttery roll.
Nick almost laughed. "Two slices, please."
"Ala mode." Sara added between bites.
The waitress wrote down the order, and walked away, using the eraser end of the pencil to scratch her ear.
Nick looked down at his own plate, then glanced at Sara's almost empty one. He had some catching up to do. He didn't want Sara finishing first, and having to wait on him, his entire plan would crumble if that happened.
"Thank you, Nick." Sara said as she relaxed in the passenger seat of his truck, a sleepy smile on her face. "I guess I was hungrier than I'd known." The wine coursed through her, warming her toes. She closed her eyes and let her head roll slightly toward him.
"Anytime, Sar." Nick said softly, not wanting to jolt her out of her wine induced daze.
By the time he pulled up to her apartment building parked, she was dozing lightly. Turning in the seat, he watched her. She was breathing deeply and evenly, and her mouth hung open slightly. He grinned at how cute she was. "Sara," he said softly.
She stirred, closing her mouth and opening her eyes slightly. She ran her tongue over her teeth and took a deep breath as she looked around. "Home," she said, recognizing her building.
"Yeah," Nick agreed and slid out the driver side door, making is way around, and opened her door for her just as she was unfastening her seat belt.
Walking up the stairs to her apartment, Sara fished in her purse for her keys, then held them out for Nick to unlock the door.
"Go put your pj's on." Nick instructed as he closed the door behind them.
Sara cocked an eyebrow as she set her purse down. "PJ's? What am I, eight?"
"Fine," Nick acquiesced, "sweats, shorts, whatever you wear to sleep in, go put them on."
"What're you planning Nick?" Sara asked warily, and suddenly fully awake again.
"The only thing I'm gonna do is make sure you sleep a whole eight hours, Sara." He answered earnestly, trying to break down the wall of resistance she was putting up again. With a tilt of his chin, he said "Go on now, go change."
A few minutes later, he heard her bedroom door open and she called out "What now?"
Nick rolled his eyes as he shrugged off his jacket. "What do people usually do when they get dressed for bed Sar? Get under the covers." He walked down the hall to find her standing in the open doorway of her bedroom.
"Fine," she gave in and turned, crawling into bed. Lying on her side, her back to him, she pulled the sheet up over her shoulder. "Now what?" she glanced over her shoulder meeting his gaze.
"Now," Nick said sitting down on the edge of the bed, "You close your eyes and go to sleep." He shifted his body, lying down next to her, over the sheets and turned so he spooned her.
She gasped at the unexpected feel of him so close. After she'd walked out, leaving Hank behind her, her bed had felt exceptionally empty, and the presence of another human being next to her only reminded her of how vacant her bed usually was.
"Close your eyes Sara," Nick whispered and put a warm hand on her arm. She did, reluctantly, as she was told.
"Once upon a time…" Nick began.
Sara giggled.
"Hush," he admonished quietly and began again. "Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away-"
"You're not gonna tell me the Star Wars story, are you?" Sara interrupted again.
He ignored her and continued, "There was a princess who was clever, strong, brave, and very, very lonely."
Sara listened to Nick's voice; the motion of his words like waves, the heaviness of her full stomach and the wine warming her veins making her immediately relax against him. The lilt in his voice carrying her until she fell deeply asleep in his arms.