"Alright, so tell me why we had to eat alone," Nick said once they were seated at the diner.
Sara smiled. "Because . . . you're Nick, and I like spending time with you."
"Well, yeah," he said with a self-effacing grin, "I'm pretty sure my name is Nick. But you like spending time with Warrick too, at least when you guys aren't fighting. So why exclude him?"
"Maybe I just wanted to get you alone," Sara said, fluttering her eyelashes. "And take advantage of you."
Nick laughed. "Well in that case, take all the advantage you want." When Sara didn't laugh with him, he opened his eyes and raised a brow. "That was a joke, Sara. You're supposed to laugh," he informed her, then took a sip of water.
"I wasn't joking."
Nick was so shocked that he spit out the mouthful of liquid, leaving Sara with a wet neck and a spot on her shirt. Immediately looking contrite, Nick grabbed his napkin and started dabbing at the damage. "Sorry babe. I just didn't know you could deadpan so well."
Sara jerked away. "I wasn't deadpanning, and I wasn't joking!" She reached out a hand for his.
"Whoa there, Sara," Nick managed, removing his hand from the vicinity. "This is Nick you're talking to. Remember? Best friend?"
"Best friends have been known to date."
"Well not these best friends! Sara, you're majorly rebounding from Grissom. I just happen to be here while you're doing it." This was not good, he thought. She had no idea how much he wished what she were saying was actually the truth. Sara Sidle was being a tease, he thought, whether she realized it or not. "Come on, don't be playing with my delicate emotions," he said, trying for humor.
"If you're just going to make fun of me, I'm out of here," Sara said tightly as she grabbed her purse and stood up.
Gentling his voice, Nick gripped her wrist. "Hey, hey, hold on. I'm not making fun of you. I'm just, uh, you caught me by surprise. How about we leave that topic alone for now and eat our breakfast in peace, ok? If you still want to talk about, uh . . . that . . . tonight, then we can."
Sara sighed. "Ok, Nick. Fine." "Oh," she added, "Can we go to that new bar instead or for pizza? I'm more in the mood for beer than cheese."
Nick thought he could see where this was going. Why was she suddenly chasing him? Well, he knew the reason, of course – the whole rebound thing – but why did she have to come to him? Why couldn't she have started chasing Warrick, who would have been indifferent to the attack?
"Yeah, sure. Beer it is," he finally said.
Nick only had two beers that night. He was acutely nervous to be out with Sara after the morning's conversation. He also felt that he'd be responsible for anything she did tonight that she'd regret tomorrow, so he was keeping a keen eye on her.
Despite his efforts to restrain her, Sara had just finished her fourth beer, and he knew she hadn't eaten since they'd gone to the diner. She was currently out on the dance floor with some guy she didn't know, and dancing too close for his comfort. He was surprised it wasn't too close for her comfort too, considering her usual restraint with men, but he supposed beer could do that – especially large amounts of beer consumed by a woman who couldn't weigh more than 120 pounds.
The song Sara had been dancing to ended, and before another partner could grab her, Nick strode onto the dance floor and pulled her off it. "What are you doing, Sara?" he hissed. "Do you realize you were grinding with a complete stranger?"
"So what? It's not like there's anyone to get jealous about it. Not Grissom, not you."
Nick winced. Ouch, that one had stung. "Of course I'm jealous, Sara. I was your 'date' tonight, not some stranger."
Though he had been using the word date figuratively, the subtlety was lost on his drunken companion. "Date, hah. That's not what you said this morning."
"I didn't mean it like that, Sara. I meant that . . ." What had he meant by it? "I meant that you invited me here. So it would only be polite to dance with me instead of strangers."
She took a step back and angled her head up to look him in the face. "Do you want to dance, Nick?" she asked gallantly.
"Certainly, dear. But no grinding."
"Why not?"
Oh, god. Nick couldn't think of a good reason for that one. "Because I'm the man and I say so."
"Hah," Sara said with a slightly drunken grin, and pulled him behind her to the floor.
"Sara, no," he said ten minutes later. They were back standing by the bar and she was too close for comfort.
"Dammit Nick, why not?" she said, stamping her foot childishly. When he didn't answer, she tapped a hand on the bar to signal the bartender. The contact made her wince. Her stitched hand wasn't healing very well, but she'd be damned if she'd admit it after what Grissom had said about her not taking care of it.
Smiling defiantly at his disapproving face, she asked for another beer and grabbed for it when the bartender slid it toward her. She missed, though, and before she could try again, Nick had grabbed it off the bar and finished it in a few gulps.
"No more for you, Sara, I told you."
"I only had four. That was your third. How come you're not cutting yourself off?" She was perilously close to whining.
"Because, my dear, I'm not nearly as skinny as you," he said, poking her in the stomach, "and I can handle three beers. You, however, apparently can't." He took a close look at her. "Oh, forget it. I'm taking you home before you get yourself in any more trouble." He slapped a twenty on the bar, grabbed her hand, and began weaving through the crowd, towing his recalcitrant colleague behind him.
Sara dug in her heels but, as Grissom had done the other day, Nick simply removed the friction. "Come ON, Sara. You don't get a choice in this."
"I really, really wish men would stop saying that to me!"
Nick shook his head. "Fine, Sara. Your choice right now is either let me take you home, or I'm gonna call Warrick to drag your drunk ass there."
Sara grunted unhappily, but allowed him to stuff her into the car.
"No, Sara," Nick said again when she asked him to walk her into her apartment. Why was he having to say no so much tonight? He'd never seen Sara acting like this before.
"Please?"
"No!"
"Then I'm not getting out of the car, Nick."
"I'll drag you."
"No you won't."
"You're right, I won't," he acceded. "But still, you have to move, Sar. I'm not taking you home with me. God knows that the way you're acting tonight, you'd climb into bed with me."
"Yeah, Nick. I think I get the point," she said in a voice that was somewhere between cold and tearful.
He felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. "Oh, fine. You know, for someone so bad at socialization, you're damn good with manipulating people."
"I know," she grinned, and got out. Nick followed her, wondering what the hell he was going to do if she started trying to . . . do that again. He was running out of both willpower and patience.
To his consternation, but not to his surprise, she did. "Listen, Sara," he said, trying again to talk some sense into her, "Grissom is my friend. I'm not going to start dating his whatever-you-are."
"How many times have I told you this, Nick? I'm not anything to him. He made that really clear, so it's not like he can turn around and say I was his girlfriend or something. And I'm not, anyway. I told you a million times that I'm done with him."
Nick gave up on trying to convince her. "What do you want from me, Sara?"
"A date? A real one?"
"Sara . . ."
"Listen, Nick. You think I'm drunk and acting weird. Ever stop to consider that maybe this is how I act when I'm not convinced I'm in love with someone?"
"No. This isn't you."
Sara knew this wasn't her usual behavior. But then, she'd never had someone do to her what Grissom had done. Wasn't she entitled to another relationship if she wanted it, rebound or not? "Guess what. I'm saying these things. This is my body. That means this is me talking to you."
Nick surrendered with a groan. "Fine, Sara. A date. We can go out to dinner or something at somewhere other than a diner. But I'm not bringing you flowers or chocolates."
"Did I ask for them?"
"Can I go home now?"
Sara sighed. "You could show a little more enthusiasm, Nick. If you really find me that unpleasant, just say so and be done with it."
Nick sighed. That was his cue to exit. "Time for me to go, Sara. Like I said, I'm not spending the night in the same apartment as you. You might rape my poor self." He bent down and gave her a quick kiss, then hightailed it out to his car.