Disclaimer: Not mine. Shout out to Youtube for telling me that doubles tennis has front and back positions, not sides. "Bust a Move" Young MC

Rating: G (It's coming; don't worry)

A/N: You will notice a complete lack of technical terms in regard to tennis because I don't play it. The racket is too heavy for my pathetically small hands and wrists. Plus, there's no contact thus deemed not worth my effort because I will only suck hard at it. I pre-apologize for any awkward sentences and my usual left out words; I'm very tired and I refuse to have someone beta my work. Those are my excuses. Also, if I make technical tennis mistakes, I will not fix them. Sorry to offend, but I just don't care that much because what's important is Sara and Nick eventually jumping each other's bones, not tennis technicalities.

Work Out: Bust a Move

As soon as Nick stepped foot onto the court, he was bound and determined not to make a complete fool of himself not only in front of his coworkers, but also Sara. A continuous mantra ran through his head, telling him that he would not screw up, that things were going to be just fine because it was just tennis after all.

"You've played tennis before, right Nick?" Warrick asked, watching the two women walk across the court to the other side.

"Not in my life," was the sighed response.

"Oh, this should be good," Warrick laughed, bouncing the yellow ball in his hand a few times on the ground.

"Don't you think we're a little unevenly matched?" Nick wondered aloud, looking from Warrick to Sara and Catherine on the other side.

The reply he received was laughter from both sides of the net until Warrick simply told him to shut up and just play. Nick cast a side glance at his friend who bounced the ball twice before he served it over the net. With wide eyes, Nick watched it connect with Catherine's racket and thankfully to Warrick, who was at the front of the net. Nick considered making his point once more of the men's disadvantage because he wasn't sure that Warrick understood what he had been getting at: they were going to lose to Sara and Catherine and there was no point doubting it.

As the game progressed, Nick realized that Sara was a ridiculously good tennis player and a ridiculously hot tennis player. He wasn't sure what the point of the guttural sounds that both Catherine and Sara emitted was, but he liked them. Warrick occasionally grunted and definitely groaned every time Nick served the ball into the net or hit it out directly, but for the most part Nick ignored his friend, his mind too busy thinking about Sara's short skirt and noises to care.

Warrick, visibly tired from picking up Nick's slack, suggested a break after the first game was over. Nick hurriedly agreed while the women laughed and relented.

"You're not doing too badly," teased Sara, nudging her elbow into Nick's ribs.

He couldn't help but notice that her eyes briefly roamed over his sleeveless arms coated with a slight sheen of sweat. The fact that her eyes were wandering and her smile hinted at approval gave Nick a much needed ego boost.

"I told you I was horrible, Sar."

"Well, you're sure giving Warrick a work out," she chuckled, nodding to Warrick who was busy chatting with Catherine on the other side of the court while he stretched out his arms.

"Yeah," Nick said distantly.

The two of them sat on one of the benches that were provided on the sides of every court. Nick leaned back against the gate, his hands hanging between his legs, clutching his half full water bottle. From his angle, he could easily sneak peaks of Sra's skirt that appeared even shorter when she sat down. He sighed heavily and took a swig of water, forcing himself to look away or else he would likely get caught.

"You think you'll be up for another round?"

"I'm always up for another round," he drawled slowly, grinning madly.

"Oh, Nicky, you're horrible."

When Sara laughed, he could feel the vibrations from her arm that was pressed against his. His smile continued, lovely the way that he felt so connected to her at that moment.

"Do you think you could go a little easy on me?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Well, you'd sure be giving Warrick a break. Think of it like that. Maybe we could switch partners or something that way you could still beat me."

"It's not the same," she smirked. "I want the satisfaction of thoroughly winning."

"Wow, Sar," Nick said taken aback, "I didn't realize how competitive you are."

"Yeah, it can get pretty ugly."

"I can't wait. Don't worry, darling. I'll get you back sooner than you think."

"You're already accepting defeat so soon?"

Nick stood up and then faced her as he stretched out his back that was already beginning to stiffen. He noticed her eyes traveling across the patch of skin that was revealed when he extended his arms behind his bed. Smirking, he tried not to show off but made sure that everything was sucked in and looking good.

"Nice," she muttered, purposely looking away and at the young girl rallying off balls in the court over from them.

"What?"

"Oh, don't act all innocent, Nick. You know what," she said darkly, glancing at him momentarily.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just enjoying my stretch… and so were you it seemed."

"So you up for another ass-whooping?" jeered Catherine from behind Nick.

Turning to face the smirking blonde, Nick caught the tennis ball instinctively when she threw it to him.

"Maybe try to make it over the net this time," muttered Warrick, patting his back as they made their way back to their side of the net.

"I'm trying, man," Nick insisted. "Do you think I like making a fool of myself in front of Sara?"

"I sure hope not."

The second game was just as dreadful, if not worse, than the game previously played. Nick managed to serve the ball over the net once and in the process, hit Catherine in the arm. After that, everything went down hill: Nick missed the ball completely four out of six times and the other two ended up hitting the fence, scaring the person sitting on the bench on the other side.

"I'm so done with this," he muttered, serving the ball for hopefully the last time.

Much to his amazement, the ball flew over the net… and straight into Sara's face. Nick stood there with his mouth to the ground, holding his racket with two hands in front of him. Sara was on the ground, clutching her face and all Nick could think to do was run the other way because Sara would be mad if Nick bruised or broke anything.

Snapping out of his shock, Nick rushed over to Sara, dropping his racket along the way. She had sat up and her head was bent in between her legs. Tears and mascara rolled down her flushed cheeks as red seeped out from in between her fingers.

"Oh shit," Nick swore.

"Is it broken?" Warrick asked.

Nick didn't wait to hear the response. He ran to the building where they had checked in, searching for some sort of medical kit. One of the staff came out from behind the counter grasping a white box, but Nick quickly snatched it from the younger man, dashing for the court where Sara sat waiting.

By the time he had returned, Warrick and Catherine had moved her to the bench that Nick and Sara had sat on earlier. Her tears were dry and the mascara had stained her cheeks, but to Nick's relief, she didn't appear angry. He handed her gauze and while she held her nose gently with hand, Catherine washed her free hand with water and then repeated it with the other hand.

"We should go to a clinic," Nick said, looking from Warrick to Catherine.

"You think it's a good idea for you to take her?" Catherine teased lightly.

"Catherine," Sara chided, her voice muffled by her hand partly covering her mouth. "It was an accident."

"I know and Nick's not going to hear the end of it for some time."

"Come on, Sar," Nick coaxed, one hand on his arm and the other on her back.

"We'll take care of this," offered Warrick, gesturing to their stuff and the staff member of the athletic park who walked toward them.

"Thanks, man."

Sara glanced up at Nick as they walked to the parking lot. He still had his hand on the small of her back and even though his face was partially turned away from him, she could still see that he was deeply worried. He helped her into his truck, gently shutting the door after her before he climbed into the driver's side.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't mean to hurt you. I told you I was really bad at tennis. I'm so sorry!" he blurted, his head resting on the steering wheel.

"It's okay, Nick. I know."

"I'm sorry," he whispered once more, meeting her eyes.

"I would hug you, but it's kind of awkward right now," she joked. "Can we get going, Nick? I really need some ice and aspirin."

"Damn. I knew I forgot something. I can go grab some now. Do you want me to? I'll only be a sec."

"No, let's just go."

Although the drive to the nearest clinic would have normally taken twenty minutes to get to, Nick made it in half of that time. Sara didn't say a word about the speed; she was simply thankful that Nick cared and that there weren't any police to pull them over along the way.

After cleaning and patching her up, Nick and Sara left the clinic almost an hour later.

"I think that was the worst forty-five minutes of my life," Sara remarked, slamming the door shut of Nick's truck when she arrived at her apartment.

"It wasn't that bad."

"That bad? That kid kept asking me what was wrong with my face! And then that baby wouldn't stop crying and that old man was coughing. Clinic lobbies are cesspools, Nick! I feel so unsanitary."

"Well, the doctor told you not to shower until tomorrow so you're just going to have to live deal with it," Nick stated matter-of-factly as they walked inside of her place.

"Don't talk to me like that, mister. You will agree with me in what ever I say. You have to; you broke my face."

"I didn't break your face, Sar: just your nose."

"And you gave me a black eye on top of that."

Sara flopped down on the couch and didn't make any effort to move for Nick. She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. Nick desperately tried to suppress his laughter when he seated himself opposite her on her coffee table. Her nose had a small brace on it but having that mixed with her pout sent him over the edge.

"What?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"You're just so cute," he grinned, grabbing one of her feet and placing it in his lap for him to massage.

Although it seemed like a genius idea for Nick to have an excuse to touch Sara, it was a very bad idea because when he raised her leg and set her foot practically in his groin, he could see directly up her slightly raised skirt. He bit down on his lip and focused on the neatly kept toenails that were staring up at him.

"What's wrong, Nick?" Sara asked, sensing his sudden change in behavior.

"Nothing."

"No, Nick. Come on. What's wrong? If I was mean to you a couple minutes ago, I'm sorry. You know I was only –"

"Hello Kitty, Sar?"

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't think you'd be into little girl things."

"What are you talking about, Nicky? I don't own anything…"

Her sentence trailed off and when she glanced up at Nick she noticed that he made an effort to old her gaze, restraining himself from looking down. She hastily pulled her skirt down, but Nick only shook his head.

"I can still see," he murmured. "I'm going to have to stop massaging your foot."

Just as Nick released her foot and was about to take it out of his lap, Sara reached across and grabbed his hand, placing it back on her tired feet.

"If it means getting a legendary Nick Stokes foot massage, I can tough out you checking out my Hello Kitty pants."

"I have seen worse," he grinned.

"Easy, boy. Don't push your luck."

"I'm just saying, Sar, that after the sauna, your underwear doesn't seem –"

"Nick?"

"Yes Sara?"

"Shut up and massage my feet."

"Okay."