This chapter is a shameless link to get the characters where I need them to
be! I'm sorry for incorrect characterisations etc, but the show makes it
look a lot easier than it is!
This is dedicated to everyone who has reviewed this so far. You know who
you are- thank you very much for all the kind words, and criticisms,
without which I can't improve! (Do you think I'm ready to give my Oscar
acceptance speech yet?) Seriously though, the reviews make all the writing
worth it.
As Sara walked, she continually had to look down at her hand. It had been momentary contact, but now that it was gone she realised that she missed it already, like her hand felt too cold, too empty without it being there.
She wondered at her reaction. It wasn't like her to feel needy in anyway. Maybe it was just this case getting to her more than usual. Taking the bit of comfort Nick had offered and using it as a security blanket to wrap herself up from the horrors of the case. It was better than what she usually did to feel safe, to escape from her case, which was usually to immerse herself into another.
The café was a block from the labs, an old time diner frequented by cops and civilians alike for it's good portioned, good priced and tasty on top of that food.
Sara slid into one of the booths, Nick sliding in next to her. Sara felt glad, then felt silly. It wasn't like Nick hadn't sat next to her before. In fact he almost always did. But this time felt different, and Sara realised with a jolt what it was she was feeling. Excitement. About Nick being close enough to touch. That she could smell the faint aroma of his shower gel where he had probably showered after shift.
She tried to shake away the feeling, to stop her mind on its downhill spiral to mushy-ness. Her mind had other ideas though. Like thinking how good Nick's tight T-shirt looked. Of course, she had noticed before- it was hard not to. Nick had a good body. But this time she was noticing it in a different way. She looked down at her hands, wondering at herself, at her reaction, telling herself sternly, in her head of course, to grow up. All this because Nick had held her hand for all of five seconds.
She was losing her mind. That had to be it. She was officially losing her mind. But after working on a case involving a woman who had died, it was nice to feel something, to feel anything to remind her that she was very much alive. It was so easy, when you were surrounded by dead people day in day out to remember that life was for living, not waiting around for death to find you.
'Sara!' the tone to Catherine's voice told her it hadn't been the first time her name had been said. She looked up from looking (thankfully) at the chequered plastic tablecloth, the thoughts finally dissipating as she looked at the softening but definitely still annoyed look on Catherine's face. 'Man, you really zoned then.' She said. 'Warrick's going up to order.' She repeated.
'Oh. Just coffee for me.' She told Warrick, going back to her study of the tablecloth. 'You can't tell me you don't want the pancakes- they are way too good to miss.' Nick asked in surprise.
Sara shrugged. 'Not really hungry.'
'Man, I'd have to be dead not to order their pancakes.' Nick declared. Sara sighed, knowing it was Nick's not so subtle way of telling her she needed to eat. All feelings of gooiness were fading rapidly as she felt the need to tell him that she was capable of deciding when she ate.
'Fine whatever.' She said instead, biting her tongue at the rest. She was too tired to argue the point.
Catherine and Warrick exchanged glances, unsure whether they were more surprised that Sara hadn't bitten Nick's head off, or that she had actually followed his suggestion. Warrick eventually shrugged, and walked off to order.
Nick and Catherine started discussing the case they had just closed, an employer who had held up his own shop to try and claim the insurance back. They had caught him when he had left the gun in his drawer at work. He wasn't very bright. Which made their work so much easier.
'If it's still quiet tonight, Gris said we can help with your case.' Nick told Sara. 'I thought everything was backed up.' Sara said, as she methodically and systematically shredded a napkin she held in her hand.
'Gris chucked a couple of no-brainers back to day shift, and the other he got a confession before he even did anything. Everything's gone quiet for the moment.' Nick explained.
Sara nodded but didn't offer up an opinion. Truth was, she didn't want anyone else on the case. She hadn't wanted Warrick. Some selfish need to actually close a case. To show them she was capable of doing this. Of being solo in the field. A need to convince herself above anything else. But if everyone else was on it as well, she supposed they might find the perp a little quicker. Like a little kid who had been given a new toy- she didn't want to share it yet. Ever.
Her mind reluctantly turned back to the case. To the interview of Emily. To the girl who they had identified. To a life barely started and already over. She hadn't even finished college yet. Sara knew these thoughts didn't help- that looking at it from the perspective of a young woman's life finished just made it personal and so much more painful. But that was what it was- it was a young woman who had been killed. A young woman who was studying to be a teacher, someone in that awkward stage of training to be in an adult world, but who was not quite there yet.
Why this girl? Why was she on the street, why had she been there in the first place? Was she lured there? Did she know her killer, had she willingly gone along to the meeting, unaware that it was about to turn deadly. Or had she been there for another reason entirely- had the killer seen an opportune moment and taken it. A young woman alone on the street, minding her own business.
Sara had long ago given up the notion of being surprised at the depravity of human action. But this- this was something else. This wasn't a simple gunshot through the head, or a robbery that had gone badly wrong. This had been planned, down to the use of acid to torture the girl first, before setting her a light. This was done with the intention of causing pain. Horrific, unending pain. There was no word to describe the type of person who did this- murderer didn't seem to be enough.
Warrick had sat down long ago, and Sara tuned in to what he was telling the others about the case. She didn't want to hear it again. She didn't want to concentrate on it. She wanted to forget about it till the beginning of next shift. Because thinking about it made her want to do stuff- go look at the car, chase up fabric sales lists, look up sources of HF. Knowing that she was stuck for the next few hours at least till she could legitimately return to work, get on with the case. At least with more people working on it, time wouldn't seem like such an issue anymore. She slid a look at her bag she had dumped between the booth and the wall. No one needed to know she had brought home some work, so that when she inevitably couldn't sleep she could fill the time with something other than useless thoughts and wonder.
Their order came up, and conversation turned to the upcoming Super Bowl. Warrick and Nick were inevitably arguing about the winner, and Sara gave it five seconds before the good natured betting started on the winner. She caught Catherine's look, and rolled her eyes at the predictability of the conversation.
'Guess we know why these two requested Sunday off.' Catherine said.
'They've had it down since the beginning of the season.' Sara told her, as she eyed the pancakes in front of her. She really didn't feel like eating, but knew it was more because she was too hungry than not. Coffee, however, she couldn't get enough of, and forfeiting the sugar because she really didn't need a sugar high at that moment, she drunk down at least three cups whilst she ate.
They separated outside the shop; all back to what they could fit into the hours in-between their weird working lives. Sara had worked grave shift for as long as she could remember, and had learnt the art of fitting in a normal life with abnormal work practice. It made dating hard, though, and even she hadn't figured out how to carry on a love life and work at the same time. Unless you're both working nights, it was bound to end in tears and acclamations of "I never get to see you".
She'd had rather a few relationships end that way. So now she stuck with the strictly non-serious. A date here and there. Nothing more, nothing less than what they were willing to give on that night, knowing that Sara wasn't going to give them anything afterwards. And unless some miracle occurred and she found someone who worked the same hours as she did, she couldn't see that changing anytime soon.
It wasn't like she particularly wanted more. The "how was your day at work?" question always went down well. It wasn't asking a lot to find a man who not only worked similar hours but understood working with dead people as well. Was it?
Sara couldn't stop the giggle at that. Lucky she was alone with just the radio in her car. She was about to pull out of the car park, when she noticed rather frantic waving from Nick at her. She rolled to a stop, lowering the window as she did so, the questioning look on her face speaking her words.
'My truck won't start- can I bum a ride?'
Sara nodded, flicking the automatic locks off as he walked around the car.
'I love this song.' Nick exclaimed as he got in. Sara tuned in to the music, and a dancy track.
'Who is it?'
'Tatu.'
Sara raised one eyebrow. 'Tatu?'
'Hey don't knock the name.'
'Well, it's hardly a classic.'
'It stands for something, but I don't know what.'
For a moment neither spoke, as the music played. 'You were quiet at breakfast.' Nick eventually said.
Sara shrugged. 'Lot on my mind.'
'This case?'
'Yeah.'
'Don't let it get to you Sara.'
'Bit late for that.'
'Maybe you should have given it up to Day shift.'
'Don't you start!' Sara cried, her tone angry.
Nick knew he had stepped out of line, but as he had started it, wasn't going to back down.
'You know you can't get emotionally involved.'
'Oh and I suppose you never do? Don't channel Grissom, Nick, it's not becoming on you.'
'I'm not saying it because of Grissom. I'm saying it as a friend. You can't solve everything.'
'Well I can give it my damn best trying.'
Sara pulled up at Nick's house and stopped with a jolt, silently fuming as she waited for him to get out.
'Sara, I didn't mean to intone that you can't cope. But if you put yourself into every case, there will come a day when there isn't any of you left to give.'
'It's none of your business, but the day it does become it, I'll be sure to think of you.'
Nick opened the door, and got out, knowing he was just going to put his foot in it further if he did. There was just one thing. 'Uh Sara?'
'What?'
'Could I grab a lift in as well?' He asked sheepishly.
A small smile came unwillingly to her lips. 'Yeah.' She finally conceded. 'Now get out so I can do my riding away in a huff act.'
'With pleasure.' Nick said, slamming the door at the same time as Sara stamped on the gas. Nick was grinning as he walked to the door, and in her car, Sara couldn't stop that small smile widening.
As Sara walked, she continually had to look down at her hand. It had been momentary contact, but now that it was gone she realised that she missed it already, like her hand felt too cold, too empty without it being there.
She wondered at her reaction. It wasn't like her to feel needy in anyway. Maybe it was just this case getting to her more than usual. Taking the bit of comfort Nick had offered and using it as a security blanket to wrap herself up from the horrors of the case. It was better than what she usually did to feel safe, to escape from her case, which was usually to immerse herself into another.
The café was a block from the labs, an old time diner frequented by cops and civilians alike for it's good portioned, good priced and tasty on top of that food.
Sara slid into one of the booths, Nick sliding in next to her. Sara felt glad, then felt silly. It wasn't like Nick hadn't sat next to her before. In fact he almost always did. But this time felt different, and Sara realised with a jolt what it was she was feeling. Excitement. About Nick being close enough to touch. That she could smell the faint aroma of his shower gel where he had probably showered after shift.
She tried to shake away the feeling, to stop her mind on its downhill spiral to mushy-ness. Her mind had other ideas though. Like thinking how good Nick's tight T-shirt looked. Of course, she had noticed before- it was hard not to. Nick had a good body. But this time she was noticing it in a different way. She looked down at her hands, wondering at herself, at her reaction, telling herself sternly, in her head of course, to grow up. All this because Nick had held her hand for all of five seconds.
She was losing her mind. That had to be it. She was officially losing her mind. But after working on a case involving a woman who had died, it was nice to feel something, to feel anything to remind her that she was very much alive. It was so easy, when you were surrounded by dead people day in day out to remember that life was for living, not waiting around for death to find you.
'Sara!' the tone to Catherine's voice told her it hadn't been the first time her name had been said. She looked up from looking (thankfully) at the chequered plastic tablecloth, the thoughts finally dissipating as she looked at the softening but definitely still annoyed look on Catherine's face. 'Man, you really zoned then.' She said. 'Warrick's going up to order.' She repeated.
'Oh. Just coffee for me.' She told Warrick, going back to her study of the tablecloth. 'You can't tell me you don't want the pancakes- they are way too good to miss.' Nick asked in surprise.
Sara shrugged. 'Not really hungry.'
'Man, I'd have to be dead not to order their pancakes.' Nick declared. Sara sighed, knowing it was Nick's not so subtle way of telling her she needed to eat. All feelings of gooiness were fading rapidly as she felt the need to tell him that she was capable of deciding when she ate.
'Fine whatever.' She said instead, biting her tongue at the rest. She was too tired to argue the point.
Catherine and Warrick exchanged glances, unsure whether they were more surprised that Sara hadn't bitten Nick's head off, or that she had actually followed his suggestion. Warrick eventually shrugged, and walked off to order.
Nick and Catherine started discussing the case they had just closed, an employer who had held up his own shop to try and claim the insurance back. They had caught him when he had left the gun in his drawer at work. He wasn't very bright. Which made their work so much easier.
'If it's still quiet tonight, Gris said we can help with your case.' Nick told Sara. 'I thought everything was backed up.' Sara said, as she methodically and systematically shredded a napkin she held in her hand.
'Gris chucked a couple of no-brainers back to day shift, and the other he got a confession before he even did anything. Everything's gone quiet for the moment.' Nick explained.
Sara nodded but didn't offer up an opinion. Truth was, she didn't want anyone else on the case. She hadn't wanted Warrick. Some selfish need to actually close a case. To show them she was capable of doing this. Of being solo in the field. A need to convince herself above anything else. But if everyone else was on it as well, she supposed they might find the perp a little quicker. Like a little kid who had been given a new toy- she didn't want to share it yet. Ever.
Her mind reluctantly turned back to the case. To the interview of Emily. To the girl who they had identified. To a life barely started and already over. She hadn't even finished college yet. Sara knew these thoughts didn't help- that looking at it from the perspective of a young woman's life finished just made it personal and so much more painful. But that was what it was- it was a young woman who had been killed. A young woman who was studying to be a teacher, someone in that awkward stage of training to be in an adult world, but who was not quite there yet.
Why this girl? Why was she on the street, why had she been there in the first place? Was she lured there? Did she know her killer, had she willingly gone along to the meeting, unaware that it was about to turn deadly. Or had she been there for another reason entirely- had the killer seen an opportune moment and taken it. A young woman alone on the street, minding her own business.
Sara had long ago given up the notion of being surprised at the depravity of human action. But this- this was something else. This wasn't a simple gunshot through the head, or a robbery that had gone badly wrong. This had been planned, down to the use of acid to torture the girl first, before setting her a light. This was done with the intention of causing pain. Horrific, unending pain. There was no word to describe the type of person who did this- murderer didn't seem to be enough.
Warrick had sat down long ago, and Sara tuned in to what he was telling the others about the case. She didn't want to hear it again. She didn't want to concentrate on it. She wanted to forget about it till the beginning of next shift. Because thinking about it made her want to do stuff- go look at the car, chase up fabric sales lists, look up sources of HF. Knowing that she was stuck for the next few hours at least till she could legitimately return to work, get on with the case. At least with more people working on it, time wouldn't seem like such an issue anymore. She slid a look at her bag she had dumped between the booth and the wall. No one needed to know she had brought home some work, so that when she inevitably couldn't sleep she could fill the time with something other than useless thoughts and wonder.
Their order came up, and conversation turned to the upcoming Super Bowl. Warrick and Nick were inevitably arguing about the winner, and Sara gave it five seconds before the good natured betting started on the winner. She caught Catherine's look, and rolled her eyes at the predictability of the conversation.
'Guess we know why these two requested Sunday off.' Catherine said.
'They've had it down since the beginning of the season.' Sara told her, as she eyed the pancakes in front of her. She really didn't feel like eating, but knew it was more because she was too hungry than not. Coffee, however, she couldn't get enough of, and forfeiting the sugar because she really didn't need a sugar high at that moment, she drunk down at least three cups whilst she ate.
They separated outside the shop; all back to what they could fit into the hours in-between their weird working lives. Sara had worked grave shift for as long as she could remember, and had learnt the art of fitting in a normal life with abnormal work practice. It made dating hard, though, and even she hadn't figured out how to carry on a love life and work at the same time. Unless you're both working nights, it was bound to end in tears and acclamations of "I never get to see you".
She'd had rather a few relationships end that way. So now she stuck with the strictly non-serious. A date here and there. Nothing more, nothing less than what they were willing to give on that night, knowing that Sara wasn't going to give them anything afterwards. And unless some miracle occurred and she found someone who worked the same hours as she did, she couldn't see that changing anytime soon.
It wasn't like she particularly wanted more. The "how was your day at work?" question always went down well. It wasn't asking a lot to find a man who not only worked similar hours but understood working with dead people as well. Was it?
Sara couldn't stop the giggle at that. Lucky she was alone with just the radio in her car. She was about to pull out of the car park, when she noticed rather frantic waving from Nick at her. She rolled to a stop, lowering the window as she did so, the questioning look on her face speaking her words.
'My truck won't start- can I bum a ride?'
Sara nodded, flicking the automatic locks off as he walked around the car.
'I love this song.' Nick exclaimed as he got in. Sara tuned in to the music, and a dancy track.
'Who is it?'
'Tatu.'
Sara raised one eyebrow. 'Tatu?'
'Hey don't knock the name.'
'Well, it's hardly a classic.'
'It stands for something, but I don't know what.'
For a moment neither spoke, as the music played. 'You were quiet at breakfast.' Nick eventually said.
Sara shrugged. 'Lot on my mind.'
'This case?'
'Yeah.'
'Don't let it get to you Sara.'
'Bit late for that.'
'Maybe you should have given it up to Day shift.'
'Don't you start!' Sara cried, her tone angry.
Nick knew he had stepped out of line, but as he had started it, wasn't going to back down.
'You know you can't get emotionally involved.'
'Oh and I suppose you never do? Don't channel Grissom, Nick, it's not becoming on you.'
'I'm not saying it because of Grissom. I'm saying it as a friend. You can't solve everything.'
'Well I can give it my damn best trying.'
Sara pulled up at Nick's house and stopped with a jolt, silently fuming as she waited for him to get out.
'Sara, I didn't mean to intone that you can't cope. But if you put yourself into every case, there will come a day when there isn't any of you left to give.'
'It's none of your business, but the day it does become it, I'll be sure to think of you.'
Nick opened the door, and got out, knowing he was just going to put his foot in it further if he did. There was just one thing. 'Uh Sara?'
'What?'
'Could I grab a lift in as well?' He asked sheepishly.
A small smile came unwillingly to her lips. 'Yeah.' She finally conceded. 'Now get out so I can do my riding away in a huff act.'
'With pleasure.' Nick said, slamming the door at the same time as Sara stamped on the gas. Nick was grinning as he walked to the door, and in her car, Sara couldn't stop that small smile widening.