Chapter 2:How We Ended Up

Flashback Two days earlier

A red SUV rides along the open stretch of highway after coming off the off ramp. The four occupants have their ears tuned to the music that comes from whatever radio station their fingers happen to fall upon. Ahead, an eighteen wheeler carrying steel metal poles blows out its tire and serves back and forth in the small lane. The poles loosen and break free from the cargo straps: one of them veers straight for the SUV. It breaks through the windshield and plows through the driver and the backseat's occupant, killing them instantly: the car then loses its control and goes off the side of the road settling in a ditch at the bottom, killing the remaining two passengers. Suddenly, a horn blares from behind, the red SUV it still parked at the off ramp, the light has changed already. She's shaking from the previous vision. "We can't- we can't get on this highway."

"What the hell are you talking about? Why not? It seems perfectly fine so all you have to do is step on the dam gas. Come on!"

"No, Danny you don't understand! An eighteen wheeler carrying metal poles is going to blow out its tire…it's going to kill all of us."

"Listen Lanie, you need to calm do-." The eighteen wheeler that was mentioned twice before rides past: carrying the steel metal poles that will cause them all to loose their lives. So Lanie pulls the car over to the side of the road and puts on her hazard lights. Danny's eyes follow the truck as it makes its way through the highway. "Lanie it's just a coincidence. There are a lot of trucks on the highway at this time of day."

"Yea, and they all carry long metal poles right?" Meadow says sarcastically and turns off the radio. She looks back at Brandon who must have passed out: she's about to wake him up when they hear the screeching of tires and a loud popping sound of a tire. Lanie, Meadow, and Danny all look up to see the truck swerve and the metal break free from its restraints. "OH MY GOD," is all they manage to get out. Meadow again glances over at her friend, "How did you-"

"I don't know. But we have to get off of this highway."

"The next exit isn't that far, less than a mile from here." Danny explains.

"Fine." Lanie pulls back onto the highway and travels the .5 miles to the next exit.

After the accident the driver of the truck receives a call, "Did you make it happen?"

"No sir, she pulled over to the side of the road: once the air was released from my tire I couldn't stop it. She's still alive sir."

"Dam it! I want her erased!"

"But she's your daughter sir, I don't kno-"

"It's none of your concern. I'll do it my self since you seem so incompetent to do it on your own."

"But sir-"The phone line goes dead.

One Day Later

Lanie, Meadow, Danny, and Brandon are pretty shaken up after the accident, or lack there of. They just can't understand how Lanie could have predicted the accident, exactly the way it played out, only the second time it didn't involve their SUV and no one was killed, just a few minor injuries.

Meadow, Danny, and Brandon quickly dismiss what happened, figuring that if they forgot about it long enough it would just go away, problem solved. But that wasn't the case for Lanie. She has a feeling that someone or something is after her. Lanie enters her house late the next night: home from work. She passes by her father's study, she hears him whispering urgently into the phone, 'must be important 'mob' business,' she thinks to herself as she makes her way up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Lanie slides closed the doors to the shower, she feels the hot water run down her back soothing her achy muscles. She reaches for the shampoo when she hears the bathroom door squeak open and then heavy footsteps follow. She reaches for the towel and wraps it around her body just as the sliding doors open. "Daddy?" And all goes black.

Red and Blue lights flash onto the scene

Jim Brass calls his favorite CSIs out to the field. Grissom asks for the statistics.

"Teenage girl, Lanie Coravelli, 18yrs old, brown hair, brown eyes, at least 5'5. Found wearing a towel and sporting some nasty bruises." Nick and Sara follow one of the on duty officers to where the body now lays. Warrick and Catherine take a look around the crime scene, which in this case is a heavily wooded area where, if you screamed, no one would have heard you.

Nick pulls out the camera and starts to take pictures, you can tell by the way his face slightly falls, that he is disgusted by what he sees through the small lens. He looks over at Sara and his heart pulls a little. She's looking at the body of a young girl whose been beaten. The only clothing covering her body is a white towel and it's soaked up most of the blood leaving splotches of white sprinkled here and there. So, Sara takes off her jacket that she pulled out of her Denali at the last minute and covered the top half of the victim's body. "Judging from the multiple contusions on her neck, arms, and chest she was beaten by a man, bare handed. There's a tiny puncture wound over her heart, I'm assuming she died of an adrenaline overdose. Or some other type of drug." Sara's brief explanation is followed by Catherine, bringing towards them, the almost empty syringe. "No fingerprints on it as of yet but there is some fluid left. I'll send it to the lab with Greg to find out what it is."

Crime Lab

Being in the woods with the wind blowing and looking at Lanie's body badly beaten makes Sara feel gross and disgusting. She decides to use the locker room's shower: hoping to scrub away the bad memories that the scene brought back up. In the woman's locker room, of course, the showers aren't working, none of them. So she goes over into the boy's locker room and checks to see if anyone is using them. Sara then takes in her bag with an extra set of clothing and two towels. She lest the water run for a few minutes before striping herself of her clothes and stepping underneath the warm spray of water.

She lets the water stick to her skin forming beads and then watches as it runs down the rest of her body bringing with it the dirt from the past. She remembers looking that way everyday after her father came home drunk. She remembers trying to hide the bruises and the scars with her mother's makeup and the trying to hide the bruises her mother gave her for using the makeup. Sara couldn't win with either parent: they both used her as their punching bag, their scapegoat for their messed up problems. She hears the door open and freezes, 'shit' she thinks. Sara goes to turn off the water when she hears, "Oh God…I'm, I'm sorry I didn't think anyone was in here." Comes the slow Texan drawl of Nick.

"Uh, it's okay; the showers were broken in our locker room so I came in here. I just felt dirty…you know?"

"Yea, I know. I was going to do the same too but since-"

"No go ahead I'm almost done anyway."

"You sure? I don't want to impose." He gave with a little smirk.

"You're not imposing I am."

"Okay, okay. I give in, I give in." He turns on the shower head next to hers, the only thing separating him and she is the solid wall that sticks out some. He steps under and catches Sara looking at him. "I can see you."

"I wasn't trying to hide it. I like you new hairdo. It's better than the rug you had before."

"Thanks, I appreciate the meanness." He rolls his eyes and continues to wash his chest.

"Stop being a baby. I wasn't being mean. But I do like the mini Mohawk going on. It's very sexy." She lets out a purr and continues to stare. Nick just glances at her and reaches for the shampoo on her side. His arm brushes her chest slightly and her breath hitches. "Sorry."

"I'm not." Sara leans in, her words fresh on her lips. She leans in just a little closer and Nick attacks her lips. Sara thinks to her self, 'dam, he made the first move.' She was right Nick was the one who got up enough courage to go for the landing. They've been dancing around each other for years. It was about time. They both pull back forcing air back into their lungs. "Nick,"

"Yeah?" He looks at her with his shampooed hair sticking up into a full blown Mohawk.

"Wash my back?"

Nick's house

The door bangs open against the wall and sways to a stop. Nick throws his keys missing the table completely. He has good reason too: Sara lips are on his neck sucking lightly at what ever skin she could find. Her foot kicks the door closed. Clothing is ripped off and thrown carelessly to the floor: making a trail from his living room to the bedroom. He turns Sara so that her back is towards his bed and then gently pushes her back so that she lays: back against the mattress: his seductress looks up at him and cocks her finger towards him motioning to join her: Sara clad in her underwear and Nick with his jeans low on his waist. Lips fuse together and their bodies become a short circuit. A current runs deep within their blood, heating: bringing it to a slow biol. Nick's hands tease Sara's bra off her body: the flimsy cloth falls effortlessly to the ground. He slides his hands inside and tugs at her underwear. Pulling the devious cotton away from her hips. She chews and nips at his bottom lip, "Mmhmm, Nick…you have too many friggin' clothes on." Their lips rekindle a slow fire and she starts to fumble with his pants. Sara's fingers latch on to the zipper; their victory dance brings that zipper and the remaining button undone. She then pulls the denim material from his legs. What she finds, well, okay, one word…COMMANDO. "I didn't have clean boxers, I assume you don't mind."
"I see that. And no, I don't mind at all. Less time wasted."
"That's how I look at it."
"You do, don't you?" A quite laugh is caught by his lips. His lips then break away when Sara's hips wind into his erection. He groans in his desire and realizes they've some how made it to the bed. So, in a heated, yet fluid motion, he flips her onto her back onto her back. He removes his lips from her mouth and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of her collarbone. Her body throws itself against his hips, and the tip of his erection is trapped inside her. Nick's left hand wraps around her lower back pulling her hips more snug against his own: his right arm finds itself flat on the bed, bracing the weight of their upper halves. His knees now bear the brunt of their lower weight. Nick pierces the rest of her body in one deep lunge. A low growl escapes his throat, but ecstasy wraps its finger around her throat and pinches her vocal cords, muting the high pitched scream that would have flowed out. His pelvis lunges towards her and retracts itself, over and over against. The angle changes, but the bodies have welded together. Sweat drips and runs down and off their bodies. The bed becomes a sea; they become the boat. A violent storm erupts, another bolt of lightning checks the sky, another thunder rolls into the streets. The violent sea rocks the boat: first from the back, then from the front. His hips can't stay away from her; her fingers can't keep to themselves. Over and over again the storm builds, and then retreats, builds and then retreats. An hour and three orgasms later, his hips are still rocking, another orgasm rattles her body: screams are high pitched (he finally joins her) and the bodies freeze in mid-air, flesh is suctioned together and lips are latched to lips. As their hips descend, sending violent shock waves through Sara once more, lips still move, flesh begins to cool, and sweat begins to dry. Nick can't move and stays nestled between Sara's aching thighs. She wraps one arm around his lower body, and the other filters throw his soft hair. They listen to the pouring rain that just started; thanking God they still have each other, that the storm hadn't drowned them.

The scene in the bedroom…LOL is from another story that I wrote for Alias. The scene just kind of fit with Nick and Sara as well as Sydney and Vaughn