Words Could Wait

DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI or any of its characters. This is the final part in the three part series entitled 'Stairs' and 'Dishes'


Neither of the women spoke as they stared into each other's eyes; both too busy wondering what they were doing or what they would do. Sara was also wondering why Catherine was holding her shoes limply in her hands. If either spoke, they would risk breaking the delicate balance they achieved. No words were needed, at least, not for this part. Sara stepped aside, creating room for the blonde to pass if she felt she needed to. It was almost a peace offering, if one was to take it so far.

The simple gesture was one Catherine knew she shouldn't pass up. The blonde stepped in quietly, passively, allowing room for the young brunette to close the door behind her. The elder CSI heard the click of the door's lock. It was another simple gesture stating that the woman was at the least welcomed in the apartment. Catherine turned to Sara, holding her heels in her hands, a silent question being asked in the silence. The corners of the brunette's lips twitched, as if to find the situation humorous. Nothing was uttered as the owner of the apartment took the visitor's shoes and placed them in the closet quietly.

Sara walked towards the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to her blonde companion. Catherine smiled slightly and took a sip, thankful for the reprieve. The silence spoke a thousand words; but only word was truly meant. The brunette placed her hand on the small of Catherine's back, lightly pressing towards the couch. The blonde did as she was asked and sat down on the couch, observing her new surroundings.

This was definitely the 'Venice' part of the equation. To be honest, the blonde woman had expected a less refined or beautiful interior; but one thing she never doubted was the cleanliness. The soft hues of cream and brown made the harsh Vegas light seem warm and tranquil, offering a peaceful environment. It almost had the blonde wondering what the younger woman's bedroom looked like. But this was not the time to be fantasizing.

Sara wandered quietly to the window of the balcony, her back facing the somber mother behind her. The brunette's pulse was racing, her rigid heart beating with a new surge of life. So she had come. Under normal circumstances, the leggy woman would be thrilled that the blonde had given in to such a passive state. But no ecstasy was felt among the silence. There was only a thudding reminder that all was not well. If either was to break the silence, the peace could be lost. An idea struck Sara; though it would mean bearing her past, she would rather remain silent.

Catherine watched as Sara pulled up a chair at her desk, flipping open her shiny chrome laptop. The blonde took another sip of water, hoping to somehow gain the courage to speak. But it seemed as though no words were needed as the brunette stood from her seat, stepping over to the weary blonde. With an outstretched hand, the brunette motioned for Catherine to come closer. Like a patient hypnotized by her charismatic doctor, Catherine obeyed, rising like she had strings attached to her joints. Sara pulled out the chair and placed her hand on her secret love's shoulder, seating her in the chair.

Catherine began to read the screen.

After reading the title and a few lines afterwards, the blonde turned to look at Sara questioningly, only to find the brunette absent from her side, the balcony door open. Taking the hint, the elder woman turned back to the screen, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

She read.

The words formed a story, a truth and a past vivid with details the world should never know. The images burned in by her imagination caused Catherine to shift uncomfortably, her blue eyes wide with horror. Her heart beat in a syncopated rhythm, her blood running cold as the walls crashed down around her. She broke into a cold sweat, the pain in her chest bubbling like a fast moving cancer, eating away at her soul. The uncomfortable feeling escalated into full-blown panic, her focus shifting so rapidly from word to word that her mind was almost confused as to what was really happening.

Afterwards, she understood. For a moment, she was able to calm herself, sitting poised and in control, gathering her thoughts. The more she tried to think, the more her emotion began to cloud her mind. No words were needed now, nor were they ever needed. A sob wrenched its way from her lungs and out of her mouth, echoing throughout the room. Tears spilled from her sparkling sapphire eyes as each nasty comment she had ever said came back to haunt her. What had she done? She had been there for Nick, for Warrick and even for Greg, but not once had she truly been there for Sara. And worst of all, she was the one who needed the blonde the most, even just to lay off of the harsh words for one day.

Catherine gasped as she felt a strong, steady hand on her shoulder. The blonde looked up through her wet eye lashes at the woman of her dreams and nightmares. The brunette was calm, still, and undeniably strong. The older blonde choked on another sob; she couldn't take looking Sara in the eyes. The leggy woman slowly pulled Catherine towards her, pressing the blonde's forehead to her lean, rock-hard stomach. The older blonde threw her arms around the brunette's back and hips, sobbing uncontrollably. The silence was broken.

The taller woman held her gently, slowly picking the blonde up and walking towards her bedroom. She placed Catherine down on her violet comforter, throwing a fuzzy golden blanket over the blonde gingerly. The older woman's sobs had calmed slightly, though she still clutched desperately to the warmth and strength that was Sara Sidle. No words were needed as Sara climbed in beside Catherine, massaging the blonde's neck tenderly, like she was holding something invaluable and precious.

Another sob rocked Catherine in a death grip. How could anyone do such a thing to Sara? To anyone, any child, for that matter! The horrors she must have seen, the pain she must have gone through was heartbreaking. It brought the blonde to sobs just thinking about it; if she had to go through it she would probably have died. The older woman looked up at the dark CSI, gazing at her alluring eyes. No words were whispered as the brunette leaned forward and kissed the golden woman's lips gently, enough to say it's over. The blonde reached up and stroked Sara's cheek with a feather-soft touch, unable to tear her gaze from those deep eyes.

Another ginger meeting of lips passed as time slowed its fateful tick until the world stood still for the two women, as if to watch a future unfold.

Words could wait.


END