Disclaimer: I do not own anything in CSI. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfics to fill the void in my life. tear tear
AN: This is my third try at angsty fic, and no, you don't have to go easy on me. Why I love writing angsty fics, I may never really know. I think I take delight in bringing fictional characters down with me, too. LOL. Enjoy!
PS: This is dedicated to bauerfreak, who got me out of my writer's block and my lazy butt.
I had always seen it.
Every time we talk, every time we laugh, I see it. His eyes always reflected love and adoration for me. I never thought I'd be one to say that.
I don't really have the greatest track record with men. Man after Man, they just weren't right. The last two almost made me swear off men. I just didn't know what I want anymore.
But then I saw Nick. He'd always been there. Lending and ear, a helping hand, and a shoulder to lean on. I'd always known he cared. He was there when I drank. He was there when cases get rough. He was always there when I was at the edge of my sanity.
He was there with me to bash that two-timing bastard named Hank. We ate Ben & Jerry's until we both gained a few pounds. He was also there to be a ledge for me to lean on when Grissom turned me down. He told me that Grissom was the biggest idiot in the world. He was there to tell me that any man would be lucky to have me.
That always stuck with me. Maybe that was his own little way of saying what he felt about me. So I believed it. I'd hate to make him wait some more. Well, I'd hate to make myself wait some more.
"Care to dance?" A voice interrupted my thoughts. I recognized it and I smiled.
"No," I chuckled, half-serious.
"C'mon, don't be the first one to tell me that," he joked. Or maybe he wasn't joking.
"Hey, don't be so proud of yourself. I've actually turned down a handful of hopefuls tonight."
"Please, Sara? Dance with me. It's not everyday, or night for that matter, that I get to dance with a black cocktail dress clad Sara Sidle."
I looked at him in a way that most men would just leave.
"Please?"
I rolled my eyes, and stood up. He did a fist pump. "Fine. Don't even think about bragging next shift."
"That's my girl."
"Shove it."
Aren't we sweet?
He led me to the dance floor full of couples from all over the lab (and probably most of Nevada) to celebrate Doc Robbins' 45th anniversary to his lovely wife, Melinda. I felt his hand rest on my hip and the other clasped mine. We both started swaying to Ray Charles' and Diana Krall's version of "You Don't Know Me."
I started getting into the song, and the hand that I'd put onto his shoulder is now around his neck along with my other hand. Each of his hands rested on either side of my waist.
We both stared into each other's eyes, gaze not breaking, not blinking. There it is again. That sparkle in his eyes as he looks at me. And there's that feeling again. That feeling where you feel you can fall into him and not worry about it at all. That feeling where you wonder why you haven't been with him as soon as you knew you loved him.
That was just a cheesy way to say that I'm vulnerable to his love again. I'm out in the open, ready for him to get me.
He drew me closer. I smiled at the gesture. He can always hear me thinking.
With no other forethought, I said it.
"I love you, Nick."
I felt him slow us down, but we were still swaying to the music. He looked at me and sighed.
"I don't know what to say, Sar."
"Say you love me back," I said without missing a beat. I knew he was gonna say he loves me.
The eyes that once held a spark now held hesitation and uncertainty. Four words had turned him into a stranger. What happened? I was so sure.
"I'm not ready yet," his voice mixed with fear and disappointment.
I tried not to look crestfallen as soon as his words hit my ears. How could I have been wrong? I've known him for years.
I gulped, not quite sure how to respond at the sudden rejection. I let my hands slip down to his chest, patting him through his suit before pulling away.
"It's okay, Nick." His eyes were bearing confusion and sadness. They searched mine, and I offered hi a sad smile.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, before tearfully walking away from his arms. I never looked back. I kept my head down to prevent guests from seeing my tear stained face. Thankfully my curls hid my face.
I headed out to the observation area overlooking Lake Mead. Stars graced the dark sky, and the waves in the lake produced a soft rhythm. I wiped my tears away, sniffling as I leaned my head back. I leaned on the ledge, thinking about what had happened.
How does he feel about me? What have we been doing all these years? Are we ever gonna be the same from now on? What made him say no? Had I been wrong the whole time?
"You look like you could use a drink." It was Nick.
I looked t him, and he gave me a concerned smile.
"Thanks." I took the glass of bubbly from his hand, sipping it gratefully, feeling his eyes on me.
"Nice night, huh?" he took the same position as I did on the ledge.
"Yeah," I said quietly. We let silence fill the space between us, clearing our heads a little.
"Why?" I asked after a few moments.
I'm glad he knew what I meant. I'm glad he didn't act as if he was clueless.
"It's just too soon right now, I guess. I kinda lost romance ages ago. I think I need to take that road again and rediscover things. With you, and about you."
I nodded, though not fully understanding. "You'd think third time was a charm," I chuckled ruefully.
I saw him frown at me out of the corner of my eye. Realization hit him. He then knew that he was the third man. The third knife in my heart. "God, I'm so sorry. I…I'm so sorry, Sara," he cradled his head in his hands, his face full of regret.
"Hey," I took one of his hands in mine and clasped it. "Don't worry about it." Knowing Nick, I knew that even if I said that, he is gonna worry about it. He'll get sleepless nights and bothersome conscience.
I enveloped him in a hug. He squeezed me tight, and I buried my face in his shoulder. We're good.
"Will you wait for me?" he asked against my hair, hope coating his voice.
I smiled. It wasn't how I pictured it, but it was more than fine. I love him too much to just let him go.
"Take your time."
THE END
AN: I know, Sara isn't the type of woman that wants to be dragged on, but I just couldn't help it. I've read a lot of fics that have Sara not being ready to say "I love you," so I decided to write what it would be like if Nick was the one not ready.
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