This challenge was posted a while ago and I just got around to writing it.
Title: Saved by her Valentine Author: Alissa Rating: PG-13 for mature themes Disclaimer: I don't own them, please don't sue. I'm just a poor high school student. Author's note: I've changed Sara's character a lot in this story, so if you don't like that, then don't read. I may have carried the requirement, "Sara is depressed" a little far as she had clinical depression in the story. Her thoughts and feeling are based mostly on me.
Coming home from work, Sara quickly removed her coat and gun, and then flopped down on the couch. She was exhausted. She loved her job but lately, it seemed like it wasn't fun anymore. She hadn't been sleeping very much in the past month, making her even more tired. She felt like her life was missing something, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Contributing to her sour mood was the fact that Valentines Day was in two days and she had no valentine, no boyfriend, no someone special to share the day with. Not feeling hungry, even though she hadn't eaten in at least 14 hours, she decided to go to bed, even if she never actually got to sleep.
Three hours later, Sara woke up to the sound of the doorbell. Slowly standing up, she wondered who could be at the door. She never had visitors, except for the Chinese and pizza deliverymen. Opening the door, the saw a pair of legs with the head and torso of the man obscured by the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen. Her mouth gaped open in surprise. Who sent me flowers, she wondered to herself, nobody cares that much about me. Then a voice coming out of the foliage jolted her back to reality, "Delivery for a Miss Sara Sidle", the voice inquired.
"Uh, yeah, that's me. Umm, thanks", she said taking the flowers. She fished out a couple bills for the deliveryman, then closed the door and set the flowers down. Finding a card, she opened it. Inside was written,
Sara,
You are the love of my life, yet the one I cannot have.
You are a goddess, and I am mere mortal.
Happy Valentines Day.
Love,
Your secret admirer
Stunned, she read the card again, and then a third time. Maybe there was another Sara Sidle in Vegas. There was no way that anyone she knew would send her this. How could someone love her, she wondered, I'm not a goddess, who could possibly think that? The flowers were probably mis-delivered, she finally decided, but they were pretty. She resolved to just forget about it, then wandered over to the couch and flipped on her police scanner. She wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night, and what better way to pass the time?
Hours later it was time to get ready for work. She quickly showered and dressed in clean clothes. Grabbing the keys to her blue VW Jetta, she got in her car and drove to work.
Entering the break room two minutes late, she rushed in about to start apologizing profusely to Grissom when she noticed that nobody had even seen her enter. Typical, she thought, invisible, inconsequential, me. Just then, Catherine turned around, having heard her boot heels clicking on the tile, and a big grin appeared on her face. "So Sara," the older woman teased, "who's the boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend," replied Sara with confusion. "What are you talking about?" Catherine reached over to grab the box of candy from the table and the card from Greg's hands and read
Sara,
Chocolate could never be as sweet as you
Nor flowers as beautiful
I send them only to win your heart.
Love,
Your secret admirer
"Come on Sara, who is he?" asked Warrick. "You can tell us!"
"I'm serious I don't know."
"Come on! We're dying of curiosity!" said Catherine.
"I don't know, I don't know," shouted Sara, getting exasperated.
"Ok, ok, calm down everyone", Grissom intervened. "Assignment time. Sara, Cath, you two are working a DB over near the river. Nick, Warrick, you two are with me at a double homicide at The Venetian. Get going."
Sitting in the car, Catherine glanced over at Sara who was sitting in the passenger seat. She had been growing increasingly concerned about the younger woman lately. She seemed different; sadder, angrier, depressed almost. She decided that she finally had to say something. "Sara, are you ok? You've been acting different lately. Did something happen?"
Sara, angered with the intrusion, snapped back, "I'm fine Cath. Just leave me alone."
"No, I won't. Sara, I can tell, we all can. You've changed. I just want to help you. Let me in. Please!"
"Drop it, Cath"
Hearing her angry tone, Catherine decided to leave her alone for now but to revisit the topic later. There was no point in antagonizing her too much. Looking back over the past month, she realized that Sara's changes hadn't just been mental. She had lost weight and there were huge bags under her eyes; bags that hadn't disappeared in at least a month. Catherine was no psychiatrist, but these seemed to be all the signs of depression. She tried thinking back to about when the symptoms had started. What case, or cases, had she been working on? Sara's voice interrupted Catherine's thoughts, "Um, hello? You there", she asked, waving her hand in front of Cath's face? "We're here." Catherine mentally shook herself. Time to focus, she told herself.
Arriving home from another long day at work, Sara walked through the door rifling through the mail. A soft pink envelope caught her attention. It didn't look like the usual junk or bills that she got. Opening it, she withdrew a beautiful card with roses drawn all over the front. Looking inside, she read what was written,
Sara,
You know who I am, in fact, we work together. Tomorrow is Valentines Day and I want to do something to turn your sad face into a smile. Please meet me at the Cosi on Main Street at nine o'clock. It will be busy, being Valentines Day, so you do not need to fear for your safety. Please come, at least to see who I am, and give me a chance at winning over your heart.
Love,
Your Secret Admirer
Shocked, Sara stared at the card. Someone was asking her out, on a date. Who on earth would do that? Who would want to date someone as crabby, opinionated, controlling, introverted, shy, and ugly as me? It must be a mistake but I may as well show up. I can at least get a good dinner out of it. She put the card down and walked over to the couch. She still wasn't hungry or tired. Time for another night of listening to her police scanner. She flopped down, flicked the switch on, and lay back for another long night.
She finally woke up after about two hours of sleep and glancing at her watch, saw that she had three hours to get ready and drive down to the restaurant.
An hour later as she stepped out of the shower, it occurred to her that she had no idea what to wear. She supposed something red, or pink, and dressy would be appropriate, but she had nothing like that. Most of her clothes were dark; heather greens, dark blue, or black. She'd never really grown out of her Goth-inspired clothing from her teen-age years. Opening her closet, she picked out a simple knee-length black dress. It fit well and looked appropriately classy. Like all of her clothes, it was long sleeved in order to hide the old scars and new cuts that she could not stop inflicting on herself. She hurriedly fixed her hair and makeup, and then added a simple gold chain around her neck. She hadn't remembered getting this dressed up in ages. I still look ugly, but at least passable. Glancing at her wrist, she saw that it was time to go. She got into her car and began the long drive to the restaurant.
She entered the restaurant at five minutes to nine. Pulling open the door, she was all of a sudden unsure of herself. Was the reservation in her name? Or would the person meeting her see her and call her over? She hesitated, then stepped up to the young blond teen sitting at he door and gave her last name. "Of course Miss, right this way." The blond led Sara to a table near the back. As she approached, she could see a tall man with thick dark hair sitting with his back to them. It almost looked like Nick, but it couldn't be. He wouldn't possibly date someone like you. She scolded herself. Get that idea right out of your head. He's too good for you. But as the approached, the man turned around, and she could see that it was Nick. Shocked, she stopped in her tracks for just a moment, then got her feet moving again. She cautiously sat down, and looked at him for an explanation. He was silent, as if unsure of what to say, then started to speak. "Sara, I'm sorry that I had to do it his way, but I didn't know how else to get you to agree to a date with me. I meant everything I wrote in those notes to you, so I hope that you'll stay and have dinner with me."
Sara quickly agreed. She's be crazy not to stay with this hunk! Dinner was great, and Nick was even more charming than ever. When they were done, he suggested a walk through a nearby park. She agreed and they left the restaurant.
After a few minutes, she finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since she had started getting the notes. "Nick, um, this is going to sound very blunt, but I need to know. Why would you want to date someone like me? Why did you ask me here tonight?"
"What do you mean 'like you'", Nick asked gently. He had been well aware of her changing mood and after Cath had talked to him about it, he had agreed to try and get her to open up.
"Well, crabby, opinionated, stubborn, ugly. Why me, Nick?"
"First of all, you are none of those things. Well, stubborn and opinionated, maybe, but those are good qualities. I asked you out because you are smart, talented, beautiful, and really fun to hang out with. What happened, Sara? You've been so different. Please, talk to me!"
He guided her over to a nearby bench and they both sat down. Sara was quiet, thinking. Should I tell him? Can I trust him? Maybe it's not really that big a deal, probably just a phase. Does he really need to know? Can I trust him? Well, that one's obvious, stupid. Of course you can trust him. But he'll hate me if I tell him. They all will. And Grissom won't let me work anymore. And that would be what tipped the decision. I would have to kill myself if I couldn't work anymore. After a long silence, she began to speak. "Remember that case I worked on about a month ago. The teenager who killed herself? Well, it triggered a lot of flashbacks for me. I was that kid when I was 16. Dark clothing, spikes, the whole Goth look. I used to cut myself, actually I still do, and came very close to killing myself way too many times. Her diary could have been written by me. There were way to similarities, and it scared me. That's why I've been so different for the past month."
"Were you ever diagnosed with depression?"
"No, when I went to college, things got better. Being away from my parents helped a lot."
"But you're depressed now?"
"Yeah, I guess. But Nick, you can't tell anyone! Grissom would make me take a leave of absence if he knew. It'll get better, it always does."
"No, Sara, I can't do that. You need help. Therapy, medication. Depression can be handled, but you need help. I have to tell Grissom, but I'm sure that he'll work something out."
Sara eventually relented and they walked out of the park to their cars, together, but each to their own homes.
A month later, Sara was looking and feeling better. Nick had been right. The therapy and medication were working. It had been hard at first, she hadn't been used to talking about all her problems, but it was getting easier. For the first time in her life, she felt normal. She had been saved by her valentine.
The End
Title: Saved by her Valentine Author: Alissa Rating: PG-13 for mature themes Disclaimer: I don't own them, please don't sue. I'm just a poor high school student. Author's note: I've changed Sara's character a lot in this story, so if you don't like that, then don't read. I may have carried the requirement, "Sara is depressed" a little far as she had clinical depression in the story. Her thoughts and feeling are based mostly on me.
Coming home from work, Sara quickly removed her coat and gun, and then flopped down on the couch. She was exhausted. She loved her job but lately, it seemed like it wasn't fun anymore. She hadn't been sleeping very much in the past month, making her even more tired. She felt like her life was missing something, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Contributing to her sour mood was the fact that Valentines Day was in two days and she had no valentine, no boyfriend, no someone special to share the day with. Not feeling hungry, even though she hadn't eaten in at least 14 hours, she decided to go to bed, even if she never actually got to sleep.
Three hours later, Sara woke up to the sound of the doorbell. Slowly standing up, she wondered who could be at the door. She never had visitors, except for the Chinese and pizza deliverymen. Opening the door, the saw a pair of legs with the head and torso of the man obscured by the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen. Her mouth gaped open in surprise. Who sent me flowers, she wondered to herself, nobody cares that much about me. Then a voice coming out of the foliage jolted her back to reality, "Delivery for a Miss Sara Sidle", the voice inquired.
"Uh, yeah, that's me. Umm, thanks", she said taking the flowers. She fished out a couple bills for the deliveryman, then closed the door and set the flowers down. Finding a card, she opened it. Inside was written,
Sara,
You are the love of my life, yet the one I cannot have.
You are a goddess, and I am mere mortal.
Happy Valentines Day.
Love,
Your secret admirer
Stunned, she read the card again, and then a third time. Maybe there was another Sara Sidle in Vegas. There was no way that anyone she knew would send her this. How could someone love her, she wondered, I'm not a goddess, who could possibly think that? The flowers were probably mis-delivered, she finally decided, but they were pretty. She resolved to just forget about it, then wandered over to the couch and flipped on her police scanner. She wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night, and what better way to pass the time?
Hours later it was time to get ready for work. She quickly showered and dressed in clean clothes. Grabbing the keys to her blue VW Jetta, she got in her car and drove to work.
Entering the break room two minutes late, she rushed in about to start apologizing profusely to Grissom when she noticed that nobody had even seen her enter. Typical, she thought, invisible, inconsequential, me. Just then, Catherine turned around, having heard her boot heels clicking on the tile, and a big grin appeared on her face. "So Sara," the older woman teased, "who's the boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend," replied Sara with confusion. "What are you talking about?" Catherine reached over to grab the box of candy from the table and the card from Greg's hands and read
Sara,
Chocolate could never be as sweet as you
Nor flowers as beautiful
I send them only to win your heart.
Love,
Your secret admirer
"Come on Sara, who is he?" asked Warrick. "You can tell us!"
"I'm serious I don't know."
"Come on! We're dying of curiosity!" said Catherine.
"I don't know, I don't know," shouted Sara, getting exasperated.
"Ok, ok, calm down everyone", Grissom intervened. "Assignment time. Sara, Cath, you two are working a DB over near the river. Nick, Warrick, you two are with me at a double homicide at The Venetian. Get going."
Sitting in the car, Catherine glanced over at Sara who was sitting in the passenger seat. She had been growing increasingly concerned about the younger woman lately. She seemed different; sadder, angrier, depressed almost. She decided that she finally had to say something. "Sara, are you ok? You've been acting different lately. Did something happen?"
Sara, angered with the intrusion, snapped back, "I'm fine Cath. Just leave me alone."
"No, I won't. Sara, I can tell, we all can. You've changed. I just want to help you. Let me in. Please!"
"Drop it, Cath"
Hearing her angry tone, Catherine decided to leave her alone for now but to revisit the topic later. There was no point in antagonizing her too much. Looking back over the past month, she realized that Sara's changes hadn't just been mental. She had lost weight and there were huge bags under her eyes; bags that hadn't disappeared in at least a month. Catherine was no psychiatrist, but these seemed to be all the signs of depression. She tried thinking back to about when the symptoms had started. What case, or cases, had she been working on? Sara's voice interrupted Catherine's thoughts, "Um, hello? You there", she asked, waving her hand in front of Cath's face? "We're here." Catherine mentally shook herself. Time to focus, she told herself.
Arriving home from another long day at work, Sara walked through the door rifling through the mail. A soft pink envelope caught her attention. It didn't look like the usual junk or bills that she got. Opening it, she withdrew a beautiful card with roses drawn all over the front. Looking inside, she read what was written,
Sara,
You know who I am, in fact, we work together. Tomorrow is Valentines Day and I want to do something to turn your sad face into a smile. Please meet me at the Cosi on Main Street at nine o'clock. It will be busy, being Valentines Day, so you do not need to fear for your safety. Please come, at least to see who I am, and give me a chance at winning over your heart.
Love,
Your Secret Admirer
Shocked, Sara stared at the card. Someone was asking her out, on a date. Who on earth would do that? Who would want to date someone as crabby, opinionated, controlling, introverted, shy, and ugly as me? It must be a mistake but I may as well show up. I can at least get a good dinner out of it. She put the card down and walked over to the couch. She still wasn't hungry or tired. Time for another night of listening to her police scanner. She flopped down, flicked the switch on, and lay back for another long night.
She finally woke up after about two hours of sleep and glancing at her watch, saw that she had three hours to get ready and drive down to the restaurant.
An hour later as she stepped out of the shower, it occurred to her that she had no idea what to wear. She supposed something red, or pink, and dressy would be appropriate, but she had nothing like that. Most of her clothes were dark; heather greens, dark blue, or black. She'd never really grown out of her Goth-inspired clothing from her teen-age years. Opening her closet, she picked out a simple knee-length black dress. It fit well and looked appropriately classy. Like all of her clothes, it was long sleeved in order to hide the old scars and new cuts that she could not stop inflicting on herself. She hurriedly fixed her hair and makeup, and then added a simple gold chain around her neck. She hadn't remembered getting this dressed up in ages. I still look ugly, but at least passable. Glancing at her wrist, she saw that it was time to go. She got into her car and began the long drive to the restaurant.
She entered the restaurant at five minutes to nine. Pulling open the door, she was all of a sudden unsure of herself. Was the reservation in her name? Or would the person meeting her see her and call her over? She hesitated, then stepped up to the young blond teen sitting at he door and gave her last name. "Of course Miss, right this way." The blond led Sara to a table near the back. As she approached, she could see a tall man with thick dark hair sitting with his back to them. It almost looked like Nick, but it couldn't be. He wouldn't possibly date someone like you. She scolded herself. Get that idea right out of your head. He's too good for you. But as the approached, the man turned around, and she could see that it was Nick. Shocked, she stopped in her tracks for just a moment, then got her feet moving again. She cautiously sat down, and looked at him for an explanation. He was silent, as if unsure of what to say, then started to speak. "Sara, I'm sorry that I had to do it his way, but I didn't know how else to get you to agree to a date with me. I meant everything I wrote in those notes to you, so I hope that you'll stay and have dinner with me."
Sara quickly agreed. She's be crazy not to stay with this hunk! Dinner was great, and Nick was even more charming than ever. When they were done, he suggested a walk through a nearby park. She agreed and they left the restaurant.
After a few minutes, she finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since she had started getting the notes. "Nick, um, this is going to sound very blunt, but I need to know. Why would you want to date someone like me? Why did you ask me here tonight?"
"What do you mean 'like you'", Nick asked gently. He had been well aware of her changing mood and after Cath had talked to him about it, he had agreed to try and get her to open up.
"Well, crabby, opinionated, stubborn, ugly. Why me, Nick?"
"First of all, you are none of those things. Well, stubborn and opinionated, maybe, but those are good qualities. I asked you out because you are smart, talented, beautiful, and really fun to hang out with. What happened, Sara? You've been so different. Please, talk to me!"
He guided her over to a nearby bench and they both sat down. Sara was quiet, thinking. Should I tell him? Can I trust him? Maybe it's not really that big a deal, probably just a phase. Does he really need to know? Can I trust him? Well, that one's obvious, stupid. Of course you can trust him. But he'll hate me if I tell him. They all will. And Grissom won't let me work anymore. And that would be what tipped the decision. I would have to kill myself if I couldn't work anymore. After a long silence, she began to speak. "Remember that case I worked on about a month ago. The teenager who killed herself? Well, it triggered a lot of flashbacks for me. I was that kid when I was 16. Dark clothing, spikes, the whole Goth look. I used to cut myself, actually I still do, and came very close to killing myself way too many times. Her diary could have been written by me. There were way to similarities, and it scared me. That's why I've been so different for the past month."
"Were you ever diagnosed with depression?"
"No, when I went to college, things got better. Being away from my parents helped a lot."
"But you're depressed now?"
"Yeah, I guess. But Nick, you can't tell anyone! Grissom would make me take a leave of absence if he knew. It'll get better, it always does."
"No, Sara, I can't do that. You need help. Therapy, medication. Depression can be handled, but you need help. I have to tell Grissom, but I'm sure that he'll work something out."
Sara eventually relented and they walked out of the park to their cars, together, but each to their own homes.
A month later, Sara was looking and feeling better. Nick had been right. The therapy and medication were working. It had been hard at first, she hadn't been used to talking about all her problems, but it was getting easier. For the first time in her life, she felt normal. She had been saved by her valentine.
The End