The Weakness In Me
AN: This is definite smush I wrote just to fill an evening. The title is from a song, and I apologise cause I don't know the singer, but it's on the soundtrack for "Ten things I hate about you". Not that it has a whole lot to do with this!
No spoilers, AU, Fluff, read, review if you want to (Scratch that, just review!)
This is dedicated to all who reviewed my last one, but is not meant to be connected in any way.
As always, I don't own them, I'm just playing.
denotes a conversation- hopefully will make sense when you read!
What does she mean to me?
The boxes were piling up now, neat hand writing directing where the box should go, or a glimpse of the contents inside. In this room, the boxes were heavy, books and journals mainly. A few of more personal items. Picture frames that had once stood proud on the shelving unit, on the mantelpiece, on the window sill. A few trinkets, some silly; a pure white rock that she had found in a cove as a child, a straw man, who was now lacking in both straw and man. Some more serious. A platinum paper weight, a thirtieth birthday gift from her godmother. A single crystal rose, a first date present.
Nothing. She means nothing to me.
The rose was carefully packaged in bubble wrap, placed where it couldn't be broken, couldn't be smashed. A rose that could never wilt, could never die. Could never grow old, could never perish. A rose made of glass, though. Glass that could turn to smithereens, glass that could shatter into a million pieces. Glass that had no energy, no heat. No emotion to it. Cold, crystal. No life.
I mean nothing to you?
She wiped the single tear cascading down her cheek. She surveyed the room, mentally ticking off the items she had packed, itemising those still laying untouched. Practical items next; clothes, toiletries, make up. She moved without thought, with little feeling, numb to the outside world. Hearing the words over and over.
Hey! You were the one who said it
She never should have come. Or shouldn't have stayed. Damn Grissom and his call for help, the offer of the job. San Francisco wasn't that bad. She'd had a good job, friends, a life. Here in Vegas…She closed her eyes, trying to forget the memories of Vegas. Her first day. Meeting him.
When? When did I say that?
It wasn't so much him that she had noticed first. It was his accent. That gorgeous slow drawl. She'd fallen for the accent before she had even seen him.
Oh come on! What about that morning?
Vegas had started out on such a high. Working in the lab, working with Grissom again. But he had been the highlight, the icing on the cake. Ok, so they had started out more as friends, which was fine for her. She wasn't ready for some big relationship. A new city, a new job, that had been enough for her then. And it wasn't as if they had ever approached their feelings for each other. Not before that day.
I panicked!
It had started off so bad. A triple killing, a remorseless murderer. Worse, a family, killed by their father. She'd gone to him looking for comfort. For clarity that not all human beings were the scum of the earth. That there were still people who didn't go out looking for revenge, for blood, for a kick.
Panicked? You told me that I didn't mean anything to you!
He had been so warm. That had been the first thing. He wasn't some cold, dead, lifeless corpse. He had been real. He had been there. The single tear, tracking down her cheek was joined by another, then another, before it was hard to distinguish one from another.
I didn't mean it….I didn't mean that.
He had been good. He had been so loving, so caring. He had made her feel so…wanted. It had awakened in her something she had long thought of as dead. The needing, wanting, passion that made life so good, that made life there to live for. That emotion she couldn't…didn't want to put a word to. Couldn't say it aloud without the fear, the recriminations that she associated with that word.
Well it sounded real enough
She had found in him a new meaning, though. Not just that night. As a friend, as a confidante, he had been slowly breaking away the meaning of that word, replacing the memories with better ones. Dislodging the fear, the hopelessness, with warmth, and good humour, with life and illumination, and all that it meant.
I was scared
Not that he'd known, of course. It had taken her long enough to work out, there was no reason for him to have. No reason for him to know. She had told him some of it. In little bits, sentences here and there. In the days when they would curl up on the sofa, the rain lashing outside, put some dumb ass movie on cable and talk through it instead.
Oh that's just great! I scare you.
She focused back on the room. She had to get this done, get away from this place. Was it time to head back west? Get away from him? Was there any other choice? This place, this home was meaningless without him. She couldn't go back to how it was before. She'd had the taste and wanted more, wanted it all. Wanted him. She couldn't go back to being friends. Not when they could be so much more. But of course she had had to spoil it.
It's not like that.
Why had she even opened up, why had she gone there. Why couldn't she still be in that place of wondering but not knowing? She'd managed to live there, to survive with just having him as a friend. How could one night change so many things?
It's your choice. I can't live with this. You either want me, you either love me or you don't.
Why had she said no?
I'm sorry…
She'd meant yes. Her heart was crying out yes. But her head, her memories, her logical side said no before she could stop it. Self preservation kicking in without her conscious awareness. Because he'd asked her to love him.
Because she'd got scared.
She finished the practical parts. From one furnished apartment to another. She stood in the small entrance, surveying the remnants of a life she was leaving behind. Was it time to leave Vegas superficiality, for the comforts of known territory? The bright lights, glitz and glamour that had been shattered every night on the job. The naked underbelly of society that she could never understand, never relate to however long she had to look at dead people. Wasn't meant to be able to relate to.
He'd been real. He'd made it all real, made it home, made it worth it. Whenever she was down about a case, or lacking serious motivation, he'd brought her up again, been the rock she could rely on, relate to. And he had scared her? No, not him. Just that four letter word. Could she love him? She loved him already, she was beginning to understand that. She had no problems being in love with him. The problem came with loving him, being with him. Waiting for the fall.
I can't wait around for you to work out that I'm not gonna hurt you. I can't do that. I've shown you everything I have to offer, shown you what you mean to me. If that's not enough, if that's not enough to stop you walking away, then I don't know what to do. I love you, Sara, that's the beginning and end and everything in-between.
She picked up the suitcase and overnight bag. The rest the removal company would pick up in the morning. She flicked off the lights. Put down the case and ran back to check the gas was off for a second time. Picked up the case, and gazed once more around the now dark apartment, bidding it a silent goodbye before closing the door firmly behind her.
'Sara?'
She smiled, a small, uncertain smile. 'Sorry…?'
Nick looked out at Sara, not trying to stop the smile from spreading across his lips.
'Welcome Home.'
AN: This is definite smush I wrote just to fill an evening. The title is from a song, and I apologise cause I don't know the singer, but it's on the soundtrack for "Ten things I hate about you". Not that it has a whole lot to do with this!
No spoilers, AU, Fluff, read, review if you want to (Scratch that, just review!)
This is dedicated to all who reviewed my last one, but is not meant to be connected in any way.
As always, I don't own them, I'm just playing.
denotes a conversation- hopefully will make sense when you read!
What does she mean to me?
The boxes were piling up now, neat hand writing directing where the box should go, or a glimpse of the contents inside. In this room, the boxes were heavy, books and journals mainly. A few of more personal items. Picture frames that had once stood proud on the shelving unit, on the mantelpiece, on the window sill. A few trinkets, some silly; a pure white rock that she had found in a cove as a child, a straw man, who was now lacking in both straw and man. Some more serious. A platinum paper weight, a thirtieth birthday gift from her godmother. A single crystal rose, a first date present.
Nothing. She means nothing to me.
The rose was carefully packaged in bubble wrap, placed where it couldn't be broken, couldn't be smashed. A rose that could never wilt, could never die. Could never grow old, could never perish. A rose made of glass, though. Glass that could turn to smithereens, glass that could shatter into a million pieces. Glass that had no energy, no heat. No emotion to it. Cold, crystal. No life.
I mean nothing to you?
She wiped the single tear cascading down her cheek. She surveyed the room, mentally ticking off the items she had packed, itemising those still laying untouched. Practical items next; clothes, toiletries, make up. She moved without thought, with little feeling, numb to the outside world. Hearing the words over and over.
Hey! You were the one who said it
She never should have come. Or shouldn't have stayed. Damn Grissom and his call for help, the offer of the job. San Francisco wasn't that bad. She'd had a good job, friends, a life. Here in Vegas…She closed her eyes, trying to forget the memories of Vegas. Her first day. Meeting him.
When? When did I say that?
It wasn't so much him that she had noticed first. It was his accent. That gorgeous slow drawl. She'd fallen for the accent before she had even seen him.
Oh come on! What about that morning?
Vegas had started out on such a high. Working in the lab, working with Grissom again. But he had been the highlight, the icing on the cake. Ok, so they had started out more as friends, which was fine for her. She wasn't ready for some big relationship. A new city, a new job, that had been enough for her then. And it wasn't as if they had ever approached their feelings for each other. Not before that day.
I panicked!
It had started off so bad. A triple killing, a remorseless murderer. Worse, a family, killed by their father. She'd gone to him looking for comfort. For clarity that not all human beings were the scum of the earth. That there were still people who didn't go out looking for revenge, for blood, for a kick.
Panicked? You told me that I didn't mean anything to you!
He had been so warm. That had been the first thing. He wasn't some cold, dead, lifeless corpse. He had been real. He had been there. The single tear, tracking down her cheek was joined by another, then another, before it was hard to distinguish one from another.
I didn't mean it….I didn't mean that.
He had been good. He had been so loving, so caring. He had made her feel so…wanted. It had awakened in her something she had long thought of as dead. The needing, wanting, passion that made life so good, that made life there to live for. That emotion she couldn't…didn't want to put a word to. Couldn't say it aloud without the fear, the recriminations that she associated with that word.
Well it sounded real enough
She had found in him a new meaning, though. Not just that night. As a friend, as a confidante, he had been slowly breaking away the meaning of that word, replacing the memories with better ones. Dislodging the fear, the hopelessness, with warmth, and good humour, with life and illumination, and all that it meant.
I was scared
Not that he'd known, of course. It had taken her long enough to work out, there was no reason for him to have. No reason for him to know. She had told him some of it. In little bits, sentences here and there. In the days when they would curl up on the sofa, the rain lashing outside, put some dumb ass movie on cable and talk through it instead.
Oh that's just great! I scare you.
She focused back on the room. She had to get this done, get away from this place. Was it time to head back west? Get away from him? Was there any other choice? This place, this home was meaningless without him. She couldn't go back to how it was before. She'd had the taste and wanted more, wanted it all. Wanted him. She couldn't go back to being friends. Not when they could be so much more. But of course she had had to spoil it.
It's not like that.
Why had she even opened up, why had she gone there. Why couldn't she still be in that place of wondering but not knowing? She'd managed to live there, to survive with just having him as a friend. How could one night change so many things?
It's your choice. I can't live with this. You either want me, you either love me or you don't.
Why had she said no?
I'm sorry…
She'd meant yes. Her heart was crying out yes. But her head, her memories, her logical side said no before she could stop it. Self preservation kicking in without her conscious awareness. Because he'd asked her to love him.
Because she'd got scared.
She finished the practical parts. From one furnished apartment to another. She stood in the small entrance, surveying the remnants of a life she was leaving behind. Was it time to leave Vegas superficiality, for the comforts of known territory? The bright lights, glitz and glamour that had been shattered every night on the job. The naked underbelly of society that she could never understand, never relate to however long she had to look at dead people. Wasn't meant to be able to relate to.
He'd been real. He'd made it all real, made it home, made it worth it. Whenever she was down about a case, or lacking serious motivation, he'd brought her up again, been the rock she could rely on, relate to. And he had scared her? No, not him. Just that four letter word. Could she love him? She loved him already, she was beginning to understand that. She had no problems being in love with him. The problem came with loving him, being with him. Waiting for the fall.
I can't wait around for you to work out that I'm not gonna hurt you. I can't do that. I've shown you everything I have to offer, shown you what you mean to me. If that's not enough, if that's not enough to stop you walking away, then I don't know what to do. I love you, Sara, that's the beginning and end and everything in-between.
She picked up the suitcase and overnight bag. The rest the removal company would pick up in the morning. She flicked off the lights. Put down the case and ran back to check the gas was off for a second time. Picked up the case, and gazed once more around the now dark apartment, bidding it a silent goodbye before closing the door firmly behind her.
'Sara?'
She smiled, a small, uncertain smile. 'Sorry…?'
Nick looked out at Sara, not trying to stop the smile from spreading across his lips.
'Welcome Home.'