XXIII - RELATIONSHIPS
"That was good of you, to let Sara go with Nick." Grissom raised his head from the paperwork he was filling out and returned Catherine's soft smile as she walked into his office and sat down. The hallway and lab was still flush with officers and CSI dayshift, and Grissom had escaped at his first opportunity. He was hoping if he lay low enough Ecklie would leave him alone. He could just imagine what the day shift supervisor thought of this.
"He needed to have someone with him." Grissom shrugged. "And you and I both know, Sara's the only one he would have wanted." He looked down at the form he had been filling out, and sighed in disgust. "I can't believe Earl is dead."
Catherine shrugged. "I'm trying not to think about it, myself. I will never forget the look on his face the split second before Becky shot him. He totally realized what was happening, you know that? And instead of looking scared, he looked angry! Angry that Becky would actually yell and him and point a gun at him. I don't think he expected her to shoot him."
"I don't think anyone did." Grissom's tone was dry. "How's Warrick?"
"He's doing okay. He's gone down to holding to talk to Nancy. Would you believe we forgot she was in the other room with O'Reilly watching her when Earl was shot? Thank God for him! He had the presence of mind to take her back down to holding before Mobley showed up." Catherine sighed. "Do you think Nick will be okay?"
Grissom looked at Catherine, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt, as he responded. "He'll be fine, Cath. A little the worse for wear, perhaps, but fine. He's a survivor." He put his glasses back on, and studied Catherine intently. She was normally very fair, but tonight she was deathly pale. Her eyes looked slightly bruised and her smile, normally so bright, seemed a little forced. The last day and a half had been hard on everyone.
"You look tired, Catherine. You should see if you can rest a bit. Hopefully, we'll have a really slow night."
"Yeah. I'll tell Warwick to rest too, if he can. Poor guy is on his last legs." Catherine stood slowly and stretched, her arms gracefully arching over her head, staring at Grissom intently. "Brass told us we've all been invited to Sara's for breakfast. Are you going to go?"
Grissom shut his eyes and nodded. "Nick needs our support."
"You're a good man, Gil." At the use of his first name, Grissom looked at Catherine and smiled.
"Gil? Since when do you call me Gil?"
"Since today. Since seeing Earl die. We're lucky Becky decided to shoot him, and not any of us." She shuddered at the thought, and smiled at Grissom again. "I'd rather call you Gil now, and tell you to your face how much I admire you, then call you Grissom and maybe miss the chance tomorrow. If Becky had been thinking just a little differently, who knows what would have happened."
* * * * *
The entire drive back to Sara's place, Nick had held her hand firmly. The feel of their entwined fingers was a comfort to him, anchoring his thoughts firmly with her as he drove, keeping him in the 'here and now' and not the 'there and then.' Instead of sitting on the passenger side of his truck, Sara had instead slid into the middle of it, her side firmly plastered against his. Nick could feel her thumb rubbing lightly up and down the pad of his thumb.
When they arrived at her apartment, Sara followed Nick, sliding across the seat to get out on his side, unwilling to break contact with him for even a few seconds. Standing in the parking lot at her apartment, driver's side door wide open, Nick turned and kissed her. The cab of the truck was the perfect height, and Sara slid willingly into him, legs on either side of his waist, and finally let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
The kiss was both bittersweet and emotionally charged, and Nick had a hard time pulling away from her. Finally he did, resting his forehead against hers and looking deep into her eyes. They were brimming with unshed tears.
Nick realized they hadn't said a word to each other since leaving the station. "Sara, honey - don't cry." Nick's gentle words sent Sara over the edge. The tears started flowing freely. But instead of trying to hide them, as she normally would have, she just let them fall.
"She could have killed you, Nicky! She could have killed you and not Earl." Her voice, normally so sure, was soft and broken. Nick cupped her face gently with his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs, kissing her eyelids.
"But she didn't." His reply was firm, and he leaned in and kissed her again. "She didn't, and I'm here with you, and there's no place else I'd rather be - except maybe in your apartment," he nodded as one of Sara's neighbors walked by his truck, looking at them curiously. "Away from all these prying eyes."
Sara giggled wetly, "Okay, cowboy. Let's go inside."
* * * * *
"First things first." Sara said, as she stepped into her apartment. "We have to get you out of those clothes."
Nick looked at Sara, one eyebrow raised, and a wicked grin on his face. "Why, Sara! I thought you'd never ask!"
Sara blushed and laughed at the same time. "You're covered in blood, Nick!"
Nick's teasing mood evaporated. "Yeah, I know." Nick quickly grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head dropping it by his shoes, which he was pushing off at the same time.
"Nicky!" Sara's voice was surprised. "You didn't tell me you'd been hurt!"
A big white sterile gauze was taped to his side, just under his ribs. Along the edges of the bandage the dark purple and black mottling of an angry bruise could be seen. Sara stepped forward and gently traced a finger around the edge of it.
"It's nothing. The bullet just grazed me. The paramedics looked at it when you were being interviewed." He shut his eyes and groaned as Sara's fingers swept above the gauze, over his ribcage.
"I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" Sara pulled her hand away, before reaching out and tentatively touching his side again.
Nick looked at her. "No. Definitely didn't hurt, Sara." Her other hand had joined the first, fingers running down his sides and along his ribcage. Nick closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His heart was pounding.
"Sara -" his voice was tight with barely controlled need "- you're playing with fire."
Sara smiled, and leaned forward, kissing his collarbone before tilting her head upwards and replying. "I know I am Nick. Didn't I tell you I was a closet pyromaniac?"
"Don't you want me to shower first?" His mouth was inches away from hers, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her closer to him. He could feel her hands on the buckle of his belt, and groaned again as Sara's slim fingers dipped just under the waist line of his jeans.
"Why shower now, when we can shower together, later?" Sara's voice was soft. "I just want to be with you, Nick."
With her soft words, Nick's tenuous grip on control failed.
"That was good of you, to let Sara go with Nick." Grissom raised his head from the paperwork he was filling out and returned Catherine's soft smile as she walked into his office and sat down. The hallway and lab was still flush with officers and CSI dayshift, and Grissom had escaped at his first opportunity. He was hoping if he lay low enough Ecklie would leave him alone. He could just imagine what the day shift supervisor thought of this.
"He needed to have someone with him." Grissom shrugged. "And you and I both know, Sara's the only one he would have wanted." He looked down at the form he had been filling out, and sighed in disgust. "I can't believe Earl is dead."
Catherine shrugged. "I'm trying not to think about it, myself. I will never forget the look on his face the split second before Becky shot him. He totally realized what was happening, you know that? And instead of looking scared, he looked angry! Angry that Becky would actually yell and him and point a gun at him. I don't think he expected her to shoot him."
"I don't think anyone did." Grissom's tone was dry. "How's Warrick?"
"He's doing okay. He's gone down to holding to talk to Nancy. Would you believe we forgot she was in the other room with O'Reilly watching her when Earl was shot? Thank God for him! He had the presence of mind to take her back down to holding before Mobley showed up." Catherine sighed. "Do you think Nick will be okay?"
Grissom looked at Catherine, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt, as he responded. "He'll be fine, Cath. A little the worse for wear, perhaps, but fine. He's a survivor." He put his glasses back on, and studied Catherine intently. She was normally very fair, but tonight she was deathly pale. Her eyes looked slightly bruised and her smile, normally so bright, seemed a little forced. The last day and a half had been hard on everyone.
"You look tired, Catherine. You should see if you can rest a bit. Hopefully, we'll have a really slow night."
"Yeah. I'll tell Warwick to rest too, if he can. Poor guy is on his last legs." Catherine stood slowly and stretched, her arms gracefully arching over her head, staring at Grissom intently. "Brass told us we've all been invited to Sara's for breakfast. Are you going to go?"
Grissom shut his eyes and nodded. "Nick needs our support."
"You're a good man, Gil." At the use of his first name, Grissom looked at Catherine and smiled.
"Gil? Since when do you call me Gil?"
"Since today. Since seeing Earl die. We're lucky Becky decided to shoot him, and not any of us." She shuddered at the thought, and smiled at Grissom again. "I'd rather call you Gil now, and tell you to your face how much I admire you, then call you Grissom and maybe miss the chance tomorrow. If Becky had been thinking just a little differently, who knows what would have happened."
* * * * *
The entire drive back to Sara's place, Nick had held her hand firmly. The feel of their entwined fingers was a comfort to him, anchoring his thoughts firmly with her as he drove, keeping him in the 'here and now' and not the 'there and then.' Instead of sitting on the passenger side of his truck, Sara had instead slid into the middle of it, her side firmly plastered against his. Nick could feel her thumb rubbing lightly up and down the pad of his thumb.
When they arrived at her apartment, Sara followed Nick, sliding across the seat to get out on his side, unwilling to break contact with him for even a few seconds. Standing in the parking lot at her apartment, driver's side door wide open, Nick turned and kissed her. The cab of the truck was the perfect height, and Sara slid willingly into him, legs on either side of his waist, and finally let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
The kiss was both bittersweet and emotionally charged, and Nick had a hard time pulling away from her. Finally he did, resting his forehead against hers and looking deep into her eyes. They were brimming with unshed tears.
Nick realized they hadn't said a word to each other since leaving the station. "Sara, honey - don't cry." Nick's gentle words sent Sara over the edge. The tears started flowing freely. But instead of trying to hide them, as she normally would have, she just let them fall.
"She could have killed you, Nicky! She could have killed you and not Earl." Her voice, normally so sure, was soft and broken. Nick cupped her face gently with his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs, kissing her eyelids.
"But she didn't." His reply was firm, and he leaned in and kissed her again. "She didn't, and I'm here with you, and there's no place else I'd rather be - except maybe in your apartment," he nodded as one of Sara's neighbors walked by his truck, looking at them curiously. "Away from all these prying eyes."
Sara giggled wetly, "Okay, cowboy. Let's go inside."
* * * * *
"First things first." Sara said, as she stepped into her apartment. "We have to get you out of those clothes."
Nick looked at Sara, one eyebrow raised, and a wicked grin on his face. "Why, Sara! I thought you'd never ask!"
Sara blushed and laughed at the same time. "You're covered in blood, Nick!"
Nick's teasing mood evaporated. "Yeah, I know." Nick quickly grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head dropping it by his shoes, which he was pushing off at the same time.
"Nicky!" Sara's voice was surprised. "You didn't tell me you'd been hurt!"
A big white sterile gauze was taped to his side, just under his ribs. Along the edges of the bandage the dark purple and black mottling of an angry bruise could be seen. Sara stepped forward and gently traced a finger around the edge of it.
"It's nothing. The bullet just grazed me. The paramedics looked at it when you were being interviewed." He shut his eyes and groaned as Sara's fingers swept above the gauze, over his ribcage.
"I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" Sara pulled her hand away, before reaching out and tentatively touching his side again.
Nick looked at her. "No. Definitely didn't hurt, Sara." Her other hand had joined the first, fingers running down his sides and along his ribcage. Nick closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His heart was pounding.
"Sara -" his voice was tight with barely controlled need "- you're playing with fire."
Sara smiled, and leaned forward, kissing his collarbone before tilting her head upwards and replying. "I know I am Nick. Didn't I tell you I was a closet pyromaniac?"
"Don't you want me to shower first?" His mouth was inches away from hers, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her closer to him. He could feel her hands on the buckle of his belt, and groaned again as Sara's slim fingers dipped just under the waist line of his jeans.
"Why shower now, when we can shower together, later?" Sara's voice was soft. "I just want to be with you, Nick."
With her soft words, Nick's tenuous grip on control failed.
