Disclaimer: For those of you still interested in this little game we're playing…it's only mine in my dreams.
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7
For the next week he purposefully put Sara on cases with other people while he worked mainly with one of the guys. Throughout the week he'd run Jim's last speech through his head a million times and he just needed time to think. His almost sleepless nights had been filled with a mix of dreams and nightmares that captivated his soul. They made him realize what was important to him and what scared the hell out of him. It had taken him a week, but he felt like he was finally ready to talk to Sara again. Tonight, he'd take his first baby step towards his dreams and away from his nightmares.
"Okay, gang, Catherine you got a DB in Henderson. Nick, Warrick, you guys get your own DB at the Rampart. Sara, you're with me." He was glad to see the hint of smile on her lips when he said the last sentence.
After the rest of the team left the room, she walked toward him, "What do we got?"
"Body farm."
Her eyes lit up like a child at Christmas, "Yes! Are you kidding me? You wouldn't joke about this. Another victim at the body farm? No way!"
He'd actually made her happy. But he had to break the news, "Well, yes and no. We are going to the body farm, but there's no victim."
"What? No victim? Then why are we going?"
"I'm going because I told a colleague of mine that I'd fill in for him tonight. I'm going to monitor some insect activity for him. You're going because I know you've never been there and that you've always wanted to go." He walked towards the door, but turned back just before he walked out and looked into her eyes, "And because I want you to go with me. We leave in ten minutes." He left her speechless, just as he'd wanted and went to his office to gather his things. Ten minutes later he found her standing beside the Tahoe waiting for him. She was always punctual; he loved that about her.
After the silent car-ride they both got out of the Tahoe and immediately put on gloves from their vests' pockets and took out their flashlights. He saw her eyes widen with every step. "I've, uh, got to go over here, but you can look around and then find me when you're ready." Without waiting for a response he walked away, knowing she'd be fine without him.
After a couple hours he heard her walk up behind him. His knees were already aching and his hands were cold as ice. February nights were definitely cold in Vegas. He was thankful when she came and gave him an excuse to stand. "Have fun?"
"Only you would think this was fun."
"You mean other than you?"
With a huge smile, "Yes, other than me." She tilted her head to the side and got a serious look on her face. "Uh, thank you."
Playing dumb, "For what?"
She punched him in the shoulder and he pretended like it really hurt, "You know what. You're the only person who'd ever think this was…nice. So, thank you. It means a lot to mean."
Bingo! He'd really done it! "Well, you're welcome." After a few moments, and choosing his words very carefully, "I owed you, anyway."
"For what?"
"Now it's my turn to say, 'you know what'."
Yes, she knew for what; she'd heard the speech he'd given in the interrogation room, but he didn't know she'd heard. So, was he apologizing for the way he'd treated her at Debbie Marlin's crime scene, or how'd he'd been treating her for the last three years? Either way, he realized he had mistakes to make up for and that was good enough for her. "Well…fine."
The moment passed and he wanted to get her back into the mood she'd been in a few minutes ago, so he changed the subject fast, "Hungry?"
"Sort of. Why? Did you bring melted chocolate to cover a couple insects with?"
"Very funny. Come on." Surprisingly, she didn't pull away when he grabbed her hand to tug her back to the car. When they got there, he popped the back hatch open and revealed a picnic basket. "Dinner is served. Or maybe breakfast."
With a smirk, "Midnight buffet?"
"Okay. I'd say we could eat out here, but it's kind of cold and I'd like to warm up a bit. Mind if we pile in the back seat?"
"Great." After he started the engine and turned on the heat, he got into the backseat. As he unpacked the food, including a thermos of coffee she smiled to herself. The last week had surely changed him. After hearing that speech he gave in the interrogation room, she'd basically fallen apart. Tears had come in waves and she didn't even bother to control them. Thankfully, Grissom had put her on cases with anyone else but him. Finally, halfway through the week she'd stopped crying and come to terms with the fact that the relationship they had would never be anything more. And now, here she was in the backseat of a car with him willing herself to stop falling all over again. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn't control her feelings. She loved him, no matter how many times he'd hurt her or rejected her. Somehow, her broken heart loved him through it all.
But what was this new side she was seeing in him? Why had he brought her here tonight? And how in the world did he think of bringing a picnic basket of food? She decided she wanted some answers, but wanted to keep the mood light, "Who are you? And what did you do with Grissom?"
"What?"
"Is he locked up somewhere? Are you his twin? Because I know him and this," pointing to all the food, "is not him. This must be you. So, again, who are you? And what did you do with Grissom?"
He laughed, just as she'd hoped, "Well, let's just say that I am the man Grissom would like to be, but sometimes doesn't know how."
"So you want to explain where you came from?"
"Hmm. Have you ever seen that movie with Jack Nicholson, As Good As It Gets?"
"Yes."
"Well, to use a quote in my own means, 'you make me want to be a better man'."
He chalked another one up under his name as he watched the gap-toothed smile form on her face that he dreamed about every day.
