Needs by Jess
Author's Notes: Thank you for all the reviews. To some: sorry, this is a Sara/Nick story. I already have two Sara/Grissom stories under my belt. To others: yea! It's a Sara/Nick story! :) Please keep reading.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: This is a post-fic for TAIE.
Chapter Three: Bluff
I heard the knock on the door and my eyes fluttered shut. It was my first night off since my other "night off." I knew that I had been over-exerting myself since my breakfast with Nick. I didn't want to think about Grissom. I didn't want to be reminded of what I had willingly given up. I muted the television and pushed myself off the couch. I frowned as I walked toward the door. I knew I had willingly given Hank up, but was I really over Grissom?
I opened the door and laughed. Nick stood a few inches away, holding up a brown paper bag and wearing a goofy grin. I shut the door to slide the chain out. I reopened the door and he was leaning against the doorjamb. "You know," he drawled. "It's not nice to slam the door in the face of your friends who give up their night off to come see you."
"I thought you're working tonight," I commented.
"Yeah, me too," he grinned, stepping inside. "But I got to work and there was this void of work. Griss sent me home but told me I'm on call. I said to myself, 'Hey, self? Sara's at home tonight.'" He set the paper bag on the counter and said, "And here I am."
"I'm going out." I folded my arms across my chest.
"Bull shit," he said, opening the bag. "It's eight o'clock and you're already in your pajamas. The television's on and there's a book on the couch next to what I believe are blankets." He took a few strong strides over to the couch and picked up one of the blankets. "Blankets that you were just wrapped up in." I frowned and he laughed. "They don't call me an investigator for nothing. Nice pajamas, by the way." I looked down at my black camisole and tiger print pants. I felt my blood speed to my cheeks. I pursed my lips and slipped to other side of the island in the kitchen, hiding myself from the waist down. He chuckled at my actions and said, "I don't think you bought yourself those."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm hungry," he shrugged, back at the island again. He removed three Chinese take-out boxes and a container of egg drop soup from the bag and said, "Since you seem deficient in the act of feeding yourself, I decided to bring you some food. Who got you the pants?"
I sighed and moved to the pantry. I took a bottle of wine and stepped back into his view. "My friend."
"Greg?"
I laughed. "No. Kate."
"Same friend who took you to Pahrump?"
"Yes, one of them." I didn't offer more than he asked. I took two glasses and poured the wine. He carried the boxes over to the coffee table and set everything down. He approached me in the kitchen and eased the bottle and tumblers from my hands. He pushed my heel with the toe of his shoe and I slowly headed over to our meal.
"Did you get this in Pahrump?" he asked, checking the label. He sat down next to my pile of blankets and rested the bottle on the coffee table.
"Yes, actually," I replied, taking one of the glasses. I eased myself onto the couch, about eight inches from him, and let out a long breath.
He didn't notice my discomfort. Instead, he held out his glass and said, "To a night off?"
I smiled. His eyes shone as he encouraged me to relax. "To a night off."
The glasses clinked and we both took a sip. Soon after, Nick handed me a pair of chop sticks and opened the boxes. I peeked into one of them and grinned. "Vegetable lo mein. Nice."
He didn't reply; he just smiled. He looked at the soup and said, "Spoons?"
"Island. Left drawer."
He retrieved two spoons and two forks. I raised my eyebrows and he said, "I suck at using chopsticks."
We were silent for a few minutes, concentrating on eating our food, when I spoke up suddenly. I didn't feel the words in my brain. I only heard them in the air. "I'm not deficient in feeding myself."
Nick chuckled, nearly choking on his sweet and sour pork in the process, and stammered, "Yes, you are." He took in some wine and gave me a look. "You've gotten skinnier over the past two months. You can see your ribs. You don't like to eat, or you're too busy to, I haven't decided which one is correct yet."
"How do you plan on deciding?" The question escaped me, just as my last comment had.
The spoon froze halfway to his mouth. He slowly guided it there and captured the soup. He removed the spoon and turned to look at me. "I think I'm going to have to eat more dinners with you." I laughed and looked back down at the box in my hands. Nick reached out and touched my hand. "I'm not joking."
I ceased laughing. I moved the noodles around with my chopsticks and asked, "Nick, what are you doing?"
His hand dropped from mine and I cringed. "I didn't want you to be alone tonight."
"I'm glad you're here," I offered.
"Yeah, right." His sarcasm bit me and I pursed my lips.
"I am. I'm being honest."
"But if I was Grissom..." His voice trailed off and he reached for the chicken fried rice. I watched his jaw move as he chewed. I observed the strong muscles and I allowed myself to let go, for just a second.
"I'm glad you're not Grissom."
He turned to look at me. "Why?"
"Grissom and I have... issues." I rested the box on the coffee table and touched his arm lightly. "You and I, on the other hand, do not." I took the food from his grasp and put it next to mine. "Why did you really come over here?"
He shrugged and I smiled. Nick, the insatiable ladies' man, was at a loss for words. I mimicked his actions and stood. "Fine." I stood up and headed for the door. He turned to watch me. I undid the deadbolt and pulled open the door. I leaned against it and said, "Dinner was great. See ya tomorrow."
He laughed and stood up. He walked through the kitchen and grabbed his coat, his keys. My heart started pounding. Was he really leaving? I glimpsed his smirk and I glared. He's calling my bluff. I folded my arms across my chest and raised my chin. Fine.
He folded his jacket over his arm and came to stand in front of me. He nodded his head slowly. "I knew you were deficient."
I laughed. "Whatever."
He took a step closer to me and asked, "You sure you want me to go?"
I frowned. "Yes."
He nodded. "All right then."
I never saw it coming. I didn't see the warning in his eyes. Suddenly, his left hand was on my waist and his right hand was on my neck. His lips were on mine and all I could do was stand there. My past experiences with Nick flew through my head. It had all led up to this. What the hell was I doing?
What the hell was he doing?
I didn't care. I honestly didn't care that I had just left Hank and I was still in turmoil over Grissom. I didn't care. I had someone in front of me who, apparently, was attracted to me. Someone who was doing the initiative.
The pressure against my lips lessened and I leaned forward. I heard a noise to the left and suddenly his arm was behind my back. His jacket was on the floor. My hands snaked up his arms. I touched the hair on the back of his head. It was soft and fuzzy against my fingers. I pulled him closer. I felt his lips break into a smile. My tongue, on its own accord, danced across his teeth, which quickly parted.
Hello, Nick, my name is Sara. Nice to meet you.
I don't know when I realized that I was sandwiched between my front door and Nick Stokes with all my neighbors free to watch if they so desired. I blushed immediately and pressed my lips firmly against his, ending the kiss. He pulled away and I opened my eyes in time to see him looking back at me.
My hands trailed down to his firm chest. I looked at his collar and said, "Well."
"If you've changed your mind about kicking me out," he whispered. I laughed and he did the same. His forehead rested against mine. "Well, if you have, I'd still like to eat with you."
I nodded. "Yeah."
"All right," he smiled. He took a step back and bent down. He picked up his jacket and put it back on the island. He looked over at me and said, "Come on."
I glanced down the hallway before shutting the door. No neighbors. I locked the door and walked hesitantly back to the couch. He had the remote in his hands. He found a channel with a movie on, one I didn't recognize, and he looked up at me. "Dinner and a movie."
I sat down next to him and picked up my food. "Sounds good."
There's more; of course there's more. That's too happy to be the end. What's a story without turmoil? :) Sorry this was short.
Author's Notes: Thank you for all the reviews. To some: sorry, this is a Sara/Nick story. I already have two Sara/Grissom stories under my belt. To others: yea! It's a Sara/Nick story! :) Please keep reading.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: This is a post-fic for TAIE.
Chapter Three: Bluff
I heard the knock on the door and my eyes fluttered shut. It was my first night off since my other "night off." I knew that I had been over-exerting myself since my breakfast with Nick. I didn't want to think about Grissom. I didn't want to be reminded of what I had willingly given up. I muted the television and pushed myself off the couch. I frowned as I walked toward the door. I knew I had willingly given Hank up, but was I really over Grissom?
I opened the door and laughed. Nick stood a few inches away, holding up a brown paper bag and wearing a goofy grin. I shut the door to slide the chain out. I reopened the door and he was leaning against the doorjamb. "You know," he drawled. "It's not nice to slam the door in the face of your friends who give up their night off to come see you."
"I thought you're working tonight," I commented.
"Yeah, me too," he grinned, stepping inside. "But I got to work and there was this void of work. Griss sent me home but told me I'm on call. I said to myself, 'Hey, self? Sara's at home tonight.'" He set the paper bag on the counter and said, "And here I am."
"I'm going out." I folded my arms across my chest.
"Bull shit," he said, opening the bag. "It's eight o'clock and you're already in your pajamas. The television's on and there's a book on the couch next to what I believe are blankets." He took a few strong strides over to the couch and picked up one of the blankets. "Blankets that you were just wrapped up in." I frowned and he laughed. "They don't call me an investigator for nothing. Nice pajamas, by the way." I looked down at my black camisole and tiger print pants. I felt my blood speed to my cheeks. I pursed my lips and slipped to other side of the island in the kitchen, hiding myself from the waist down. He chuckled at my actions and said, "I don't think you bought yourself those."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm hungry," he shrugged, back at the island again. He removed three Chinese take-out boxes and a container of egg drop soup from the bag and said, "Since you seem deficient in the act of feeding yourself, I decided to bring you some food. Who got you the pants?"
I sighed and moved to the pantry. I took a bottle of wine and stepped back into his view. "My friend."
"Greg?"
I laughed. "No. Kate."
"Same friend who took you to Pahrump?"
"Yes, one of them." I didn't offer more than he asked. I took two glasses and poured the wine. He carried the boxes over to the coffee table and set everything down. He approached me in the kitchen and eased the bottle and tumblers from my hands. He pushed my heel with the toe of his shoe and I slowly headed over to our meal.
"Did you get this in Pahrump?" he asked, checking the label. He sat down next to my pile of blankets and rested the bottle on the coffee table.
"Yes, actually," I replied, taking one of the glasses. I eased myself onto the couch, about eight inches from him, and let out a long breath.
He didn't notice my discomfort. Instead, he held out his glass and said, "To a night off?"
I smiled. His eyes shone as he encouraged me to relax. "To a night off."
The glasses clinked and we both took a sip. Soon after, Nick handed me a pair of chop sticks and opened the boxes. I peeked into one of them and grinned. "Vegetable lo mein. Nice."
He didn't reply; he just smiled. He looked at the soup and said, "Spoons?"
"Island. Left drawer."
He retrieved two spoons and two forks. I raised my eyebrows and he said, "I suck at using chopsticks."
We were silent for a few minutes, concentrating on eating our food, when I spoke up suddenly. I didn't feel the words in my brain. I only heard them in the air. "I'm not deficient in feeding myself."
Nick chuckled, nearly choking on his sweet and sour pork in the process, and stammered, "Yes, you are." He took in some wine and gave me a look. "You've gotten skinnier over the past two months. You can see your ribs. You don't like to eat, or you're too busy to, I haven't decided which one is correct yet."
"How do you plan on deciding?" The question escaped me, just as my last comment had.
The spoon froze halfway to his mouth. He slowly guided it there and captured the soup. He removed the spoon and turned to look at me. "I think I'm going to have to eat more dinners with you." I laughed and looked back down at the box in my hands. Nick reached out and touched my hand. "I'm not joking."
I ceased laughing. I moved the noodles around with my chopsticks and asked, "Nick, what are you doing?"
His hand dropped from mine and I cringed. "I didn't want you to be alone tonight."
"I'm glad you're here," I offered.
"Yeah, right." His sarcasm bit me and I pursed my lips.
"I am. I'm being honest."
"But if I was Grissom..." His voice trailed off and he reached for the chicken fried rice. I watched his jaw move as he chewed. I observed the strong muscles and I allowed myself to let go, for just a second.
"I'm glad you're not Grissom."
He turned to look at me. "Why?"
"Grissom and I have... issues." I rested the box on the coffee table and touched his arm lightly. "You and I, on the other hand, do not." I took the food from his grasp and put it next to mine. "Why did you really come over here?"
He shrugged and I smiled. Nick, the insatiable ladies' man, was at a loss for words. I mimicked his actions and stood. "Fine." I stood up and headed for the door. He turned to watch me. I undid the deadbolt and pulled open the door. I leaned against it and said, "Dinner was great. See ya tomorrow."
He laughed and stood up. He walked through the kitchen and grabbed his coat, his keys. My heart started pounding. Was he really leaving? I glimpsed his smirk and I glared. He's calling my bluff. I folded my arms across my chest and raised my chin. Fine.
He folded his jacket over his arm and came to stand in front of me. He nodded his head slowly. "I knew you were deficient."
I laughed. "Whatever."
He took a step closer to me and asked, "You sure you want me to go?"
I frowned. "Yes."
He nodded. "All right then."
I never saw it coming. I didn't see the warning in his eyes. Suddenly, his left hand was on my waist and his right hand was on my neck. His lips were on mine and all I could do was stand there. My past experiences with Nick flew through my head. It had all led up to this. What the hell was I doing?
What the hell was he doing?
I didn't care. I honestly didn't care that I had just left Hank and I was still in turmoil over Grissom. I didn't care. I had someone in front of me who, apparently, was attracted to me. Someone who was doing the initiative.
The pressure against my lips lessened and I leaned forward. I heard a noise to the left and suddenly his arm was behind my back. His jacket was on the floor. My hands snaked up his arms. I touched the hair on the back of his head. It was soft and fuzzy against my fingers. I pulled him closer. I felt his lips break into a smile. My tongue, on its own accord, danced across his teeth, which quickly parted.
Hello, Nick, my name is Sara. Nice to meet you.
I don't know when I realized that I was sandwiched between my front door and Nick Stokes with all my neighbors free to watch if they so desired. I blushed immediately and pressed my lips firmly against his, ending the kiss. He pulled away and I opened my eyes in time to see him looking back at me.
My hands trailed down to his firm chest. I looked at his collar and said, "Well."
"If you've changed your mind about kicking me out," he whispered. I laughed and he did the same. His forehead rested against mine. "Well, if you have, I'd still like to eat with you."
I nodded. "Yeah."
"All right," he smiled. He took a step back and bent down. He picked up his jacket and put it back on the island. He looked over at me and said, "Come on."
I glanced down the hallway before shutting the door. No neighbors. I locked the door and walked hesitantly back to the couch. He had the remote in his hands. He found a channel with a movie on, one I didn't recognize, and he looked up at me. "Dinner and a movie."
I sat down next to him and picked up my food. "Sounds good."
There's more; of course there's more. That's too happy to be the end. What's a story without turmoil? :) Sorry this was short.