Disclaimer: I do NOT own CSI.
This idea had been playing on mind a little. Is it just me who thinks that if Sara had never been kidnapped by Natalie, she and Grissom wouldn't be married now?
Flashbacks
It's after 5pm when she finally pulls up in her drive way.
She sighs.
It's been a long double shift. She's so tired she can barely find the energy to turn off the ignition and head into the warmth of the house. So she stays seated in the drivers' seat and stares out at the pouring rain as it pounds off the windshield.
Her mind wanders back to four years ago today. The day Natalie Davis kidnapped her and left her for dead in the middle of the Nevada Desert. The rain then was exactly as it is now; heavy, cold and hard.
A quick shiver runs down her spine and she squeezes hers eyes shut in attempt to rid the images from her mind.
For the past three years she's been away from Las Vegas on the anniversary of her kidnapping but this year, with Gil being home, she's at home. And she's scared of how she coping.
A quiet tap on the window startles her and she shrieks, but she soon realises that it's only her husband and she tries to smile through the glass at him.
He looks back at her with worry in his eyes and he nods towards the lock, asking her to unlock the door.
She sighs and does as requested.
"Sara… are you okay?" he asks as he pulls open the door and leans in towards her.
"I'm… fine."
He doesn't look convinced so she plasters a smile across her face, but he's still not buying it; he can see deep behind her smile and he's unsure of how to proceed with her.
"Come on. Let's get you inside."
After helping her from the care he protectively places his right arm around her waist and guides her up the path and into their home.
Once inside, Sara turns and securely locks the door, double and triple checking it before Gil takes hold of her shoulders and pulls her away slightly.
"Sweetheart, it's locked. It's safe, I promise." he reassures her.
"I…I know." she replies, swallowing the lump which suddenly forms in her throat.
She reaches out a final time to check the lock but he captures her hand before she can grasp the handle. For a split second she tenses up, but then she feels herself relax and she reluctantly manoeuvres herself into his embrace.
"I should be able to deal with this." she whispers, resting her had against his shoulder. "For three hundred and sixty four days a year I'm fine, it doesn't affect me too much, but on this day it's so… hard. I can remember every detail and…" she trails off.
"Sara, you can deal with it. Anniversaries are always tough, but you'll get through it. I'll see that you do."
There's a short silence before Sara pulls out of his embrace and moves over to the sofa, flopping down on it with a sigh and a thud.
She smiles when she notices the bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table in front of her.
"How'd you know?" she asks, gesturing towards the table.
He purses his lips and gives her an 'I always know' look. "Because you're my wife and I know you better that you know yourself." he smiles and hands her a chilled glass of rose wine.
"Thanks."
She takes a sip and revels in the soothing cool liquid as she swallows.
Reaching out he takes hold of the hand which fits perfectly into his.
"It'll help to talk, Sara. You promised me that you wouldn't hide your emotions from me."
There's another silence, long enough for Sara to down the glass and pour another. He just watches her carefully, still not wanting to push the subject.
Finally she speaks up. "It's strange, All I keep thinking is that if Natalie hadn't kidnapped me, we wouldn't be married now."
"What?" he asks, taken back by her words. "Of course we would."
She shakes her head.
"No, Gil, we wouldn't. Think about it. If I wasn't kidnapped and left out in the desert to die" she says, emphasising the word 'die'.
He flinches at her words but doesn't say anything.
"I wouldn't have ran away and you wouldn't have realised how much you loved me, and we'd still be living our lives like we were four years ago. We wouldn't be married and we'd still be hiding our relationship from the people we love. And we'd…" she trails off and takes a few deep breaths, then she feels his arms wrap around her body and she realises that she's crying.
"Shh… honey, it's okay."
"But… but…"
He holds her tightly as her head drops on to his chest. Placing one hand behind her head and keeping the other secured around her body, he gently rocks her back and forth.
"You know what? I think we would still have been married now, no matter what happened. I'd known from the very start that we'd be married one day."
Sara sniffles and looks up at him, her eyes full of guilt.
"I hated her for what she did to me, Gil. I hated her so much I wished her dead, but at the same time I feel as though I owe her a 'thank you' for bringing us together…"
"Sweetheart, listen to me. You owe her nothing. What she did to you was unimaginable. And yes because you left I realised exactly how much I loved you, and how much I wanted to marry you, but eventually we would have made it to this point. I know we would. You owe her absolutely nothing, Sara. Nothing."
She quickly finishes her second glass of wine snuggles closer against his chest, tracing small patterns over his stomach with her fingers.
"I might have bad dreams tonight." she whispers, barely audible. "You want me to sleep in the spare room so that you can sleep?"
"No, Sara. You still don't get the whole marriage thing do you? Of course I don't want you to sleep in the spare room. If you're going to have bad dreams I'm going to be there." he replies, stroking her hair. "And because I'll be there, and you'll be safe in my arms, you might not have any. Just remember that you're with me and that you're completely safe."
She lifts her feet up on to the sofa beside her and she repositions herself so that she laying down with her head in his lap.
"I love you." she says, her voice starting to slur but whether it's because of the wine or lack of sleep she's unsure.
"I love you, too."
Sara cranes her neck and looks at him. His eyes are so full of love it makes her heart ache.
He smiles down at her and continues to stroke her hair soothingly, and eventually he hears her breathing even out.
He doesn't want to wake her so he reaches over to the coffee table and picks up his glass of wine and one of his books, and makes himself comfortable.
With his glass now firmly on the arm of the sofa, he has one arm draped across her waist and holding his book and the other still stroking her hair soothingly.
"Sweet dreams, Sara. I love you."
The End
Okay, the is blah... but it's because I'm forcing ideas into my head instead of waiting patiently for my muse to reappear. And yes I'm in an angsty mood.
I've been wanting to write a fic where Sara comes face to face with Natalie, because we don't know if she's actually dead. What do you think?
Lynne xo