A/N: The idea for this story was originally meant for my Soup series, but it kind of grew 1,200 plus words too long. (Don't ask.) Plus, I was drowning in angst (aka Memories Ch. 32), so I felt the need to take a couple of steps back and write something the complete opposite. (Memories readers don't worry – the next chapter's halfway written.)
Disclaimer: CSI is not mine.
The Past:
"Oh. My. God. Ohmygodohmyfreaking—" she babbles, scooting further back, under the desk, while pulling Gil's chair forward. "Ow. SHIT!" She hits her elbow in her rush to hide.
"Stay calm, and be still," he tells her, and she glares at him.
Yeah like there's a lot of room to play around under here, Gil sweetie, she thinks dryly.
"It will be okay," he whispers and shoots a quick glance down at her cramped position, before he raises his voice and says, "Come in."
His voice still carries an edge of roughness to it, so he clears his throat. She hears the door open, close, and then feet scrape across the carpet.
"Catherine—"
Of all people, she moans, feeling sorry for herself. Catherine, the woman who can smell juicy gossip from a mile away…
"—what do you need?"
Way to go, Gil! I swear if that man manages to piss off Catherine… that's all I need is to be trapped under here for thirty-some-odd minutes while she yells at him. I will hurt him, really I will; and those future children he's been talking about… well, we might have to look into adoption.
"What's your problem?"
"Sorry, Catherine, you uh, caught me in the middle of trying to figure out how to raise… I mean, make larger—"
Oh, God. He really is the worst liar when he's flustered, and she really can't help but laugh (honestly, she really couldn't). Of course because she's also trying to keep her awkward position and situation of being under Gil's desk a secret, it sounds more like a muffled, strangled choking sound. Gil (bless him) quickly coughs to try and cover her temporary lapse, but then he kicks her lightly (take back her previous 'bless him'), apparently thinking she needs a reminder to be quiet.
Catherine's speaking now. "… trying to get us a raise in our paychecks?"
Gil's silent for a moment, and she taps him on his leg. Come on, come on! Just say yes, and hope it will move her along.
"Yes."
Good job, baby.
"All right, then I won't keep you—"
Score!
"—I will just come back later."
Catherine's voice is sounding fainter, meaning (Sara hopes) she's walking away.
"Okay," he says.
"And I'll make sure everyone knows to not disturb you."
Thank you, Catherine!
"Sounds good. Thanks," he says. "And uh, make sure you shut the door behind you all the way…"
Seconds later, she hears the door close (which is good because it feels like the oxygen under his desk is getting more and more limited by the second) and she, simultaneously, pushes the chair out and tries to stand.
Big mistake. Make that capital BIG M.I.S.T.A.K.E.
Oh, boy.
Oh, shit.
Ow, that hurt!
"Gil!" she squeals, wincing at the same time. "Stay still!"
If she thought getting caught under Gil's desk would be embarrassing, it has nothing on getting caught with what felt like a good chunk of her hair stuck in the zipper of Gil's pants…
Ohmygodohmygodohmyfreakingeverloving—
Oh, shit! Wait, already said that. Okay. Double SHIT! Wait, is the door locked? Probably not.
Shit.
Shit.
SHIT!
Okay, calm down, she tells herself, freaking out does absolutely nothing to help the situation.
"We got to remedy this. Like as of five seconds ago—"
"I know," he says, like it had been obvious to him as of ten seconds ago. He's getting… uncomfortable.
"Gil! This is no time for that," she says while muttering under her breath, Men, with an exasperated sigh.
"Sorry," he says, properly chastised. "I uh, can't help it… with you, like that…" After she makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a muted growl, he quickly (and wisely) shuts up.
For the next few minutes, she sits still as he tries to work her hair free.
(It feels like eternity to Sara though because she keeps having this really really hellish day-nightmare of not only Catherine, but also Greg and Nick and Warrick… and hell, throw in Ecklie and Hodges for good measure, walking in and seeing her in this really really embarrassing situation slash position.)
But it's no use. All of his attempts fail. He realizes he can't pull, or yank, her hair out without causing her a lot of pain, which isn't something he wants to do.
"Sara uh—" He's afraid to broach the topic, but he knows he needs to be a man and suck it up and say it aloud. Heaven, help me. "Sara, I think you know what we need to do…"
She makes a low, small mewling sound.
"Honey, it will be all right – OWW! Why'd you pinch me for?"
"Because, damn it, Gil, it's not going to be all right!"
A few seconds of silence pass by, while he's too afraid to speak and she's… trying not to mourn the loss to come.
"Okay," she says finally.
"Okay," he echoes, relieved. "On the count of three – my count – let's move slowly back to the desk so that I can get the… uh, scissors."
She makes another sound of distress, but on the count of three, she follows him forward and toward his desk again, turning the chair slightly sideways so he can open the desk's drawer. And when she hears the unmistakable sound of scissors opening, she tries not to cry.
"You ready?" he asks a couple of seconds later, and she knows (and feels) the scissors (evil scissors!) are poised to cut.
"You-You're going to be careful, right? You'll just cut a tiny tiny bit—"
"I'm only going to cut what's necessary, Sara. Nothing more. Promise."
Inhale. Exhale. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
"I'll do it on the count of three," he says.
"One."
"Two."
"THRE—"
/
"Atchooo—"
/
*clip*
"Oh, no."
Gil's voice, sounding alarmingly scared.
"What do you mean oh, no?!" she asks and does a careful, experimental lean forward. Realizing her hair is free from the previous constraints of Gil's zipper, she jumps up and turns around.
What she sees makes her want to cry.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, nooo!
"Gil!" she wails, her hands going to her mouth in shock and absolute horror.
(Which, coincidentally, perfectly matches Gil's facial expression.)
"Honey, I'm so so sorry." He stands up and steps toward her, but she backs away because in his outstretched hand is a disturbingly large chunk of her hair.
Much more than just the little bit he had promised…
"You sneezed," he says, explaining, "and it was… it just happened to be at the same time that I had the scissors in your hair… and your head jerked…"
--
The Present:
"Sara!" Greg screams when he sees her, rushing forward to pull her into an almost-suffocating hug.
She's just catching her breath when she is enveloped in another bear hug. This time the culprit's Nick.
By the time Catherine and Warrick come strolling up, she's already answered half a dozen questions from Nick and Greg.
(I'm… good. Really good actually. Thanks.
/
I'm back and not just visiting.
/
Yes, back for good.
/
Promise, Greg. Pinky swear, cross-my-heart… all of that. Yes, yes.
/
Of course, I missed you and everyone else.
/
Back to work? I… don't know yet. Maybe.)
Warrick stops in front of her, all smiles, and pulls her into a tight embrace. "Welcome back, Sara."
"Thanks," she says, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before letting go of him. "It's good to see you, too."
Catherine hugs her as well, and asks the most important question – the one that only a female would ask first.
"What did you do to your hair?"
"Oh, um." She brushes a hand absentmindedly through her hair, which is now a much shorter length. Gil walks up behind her and puts his arm around her waist, just as she answers, "I was stuck in a… uh rut, so I decided to cut it."
A/N2: This is what I would like to call 'The REAL reason why Sara Sidle cut her hair'. Obviously my story's got the AU thing going with Warrick still being around, but Sara still left for San Fran to deal with her past, and she'd come and visit Gil occasionally—which is when 'The Past' section took place. 'The Present' is when Sara returned to Vegas (for good) with her new short hair.
A/N3: My writing (it feels like) has been sporadic lately, so I'm feeling a bit... rusty all around. So reviews/thoughts are always nice. Hope you enjoyed (and didn't think it was too... much). Thanks for reading!