Nick plopped down into an overstuffed chair and looked at Sara concernedly. "Hey, I'm sorry, Sara. It was dumb of me to start yelling. Just, uh, caught me by surprise."
Sara blinked, caught off guard by his sudden turn-around. "Oh. Um, it's okay. I just need to talk to you about the whole deal." She ran a hand through her tangled hair. Bed rest certainly wasn't doing her any favors in the beauty department!
Nick smiled gently. "Same here. Let me go first, ok?" Sara nodded uncertainly, and he added, "I promise I'm not gonna yell."
He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then looked her in the eye. "Don't feel bad about having Grissom here, Sara. We can all see that it's making both of you a hell of a lot calmer over the whole situation. And to be honest, I know that you want him with you, and not one of the rest of us."
"Nick, I . . ."
Nick held up a hand to shush her. "Don't. Let me just say what needs to be said. Okay, Sara, tell me this: how would you describe what's been going on between you and me in the past two weeks? And how about what's been going on between you and Grissom?"
"Um. Well you and I have been . . . dating. And Grissom really hasn't been in my life the past few weeks, at least until last night."
Nick's eyes widened incredulously. "Man, you're as bad as Grissom, Sara! Does the word 'denial' mean anything to you?" He laughed. "You may have been going to dinner with me, sweetheart, but I have a hunch that it wasn't me you were thinking about.
"I told you that first day that you were rebounding, and trust me, I knew it was true. I guess I'm as bad as that doctor of yours, because I've been playing with you two. Grissom needed a kick in the ass, and you needed someone to hide behind. Voila, I present the Magnificent Nick!"
"Excuse me?" Sara said, bewildered. "Playing us?"
"Yeah, Sara, playing. As in, setting the stage for you guys to get your act together and figure this out? Listen, Sar, we've been like brother and sister for years now. I only want what's best for you, and that's Grissom. So I gave you what you needed. Luckily for my plan, you got yourself in trouble so that Grissom could come to your rescue."
"You're kidding me, Nick. This was all part of some master plan to get me and Grissom together? So you're not actually angry about what you just saw?"
Nick laughed and hugged her quickly. "No, Sara, I'm not angry. But it was a good act, wasn't it?" He patted her cheek, grinning even wider. "You're slipping, Sidle. A few months ago you would've picked up on it. Man, for two hyper-serious people, you and Grissom have got the goofiest relationship going on…!"
Sara sat. More like fell, really; she was just lucky there was a chair under her. "I want to throw something hard at your head right now, Nicky. I can't believe you set me up! I mean, not that I'm angry about it, really, but I never knew you could be so sneaky!" She sighed. "But it's not like Grissom's suddenly declared his undying love for me, Nick. We're friends again – at least, I think we are – but he certainly hasn't made any moves 'like that' toward me."
"He will, Sara. Give it time."
"That was the problem in the first place! I am so sick of giving it time, I want it to happen now!"
"Good things come to those who wait, remember?" He laughed and caught Sara around the waist when she threw herself out of the chair at him. "Hey, easy, watch your hand. Really, Sara, it'll happen. He's worried to death about you right now, and ever since he saw me kiss you, he's been a bear to me. Trust me, Grissom cares. Just use whatever feminine wiles you have left from that tomboy upbringing of yours, and you'll have him begging at your feet."
"You're evil, but I love you anyway, Nicholas Stokes." She tipped her face up. "I was so dreading this conversation, I can't believe you turned it all around on me, you brat."
"I do what I can! Hey, listen. If Grissom needs another kick in the pants, which we both know he just might, just make up something about me and you. Say I proposed or something outrageous like that. I guarantee that'll get a rise out of him." He kissed the tip of her nose, then smiled. "Go on and get your hand fixed. I'll come see you tomorrow, ok? And I demand a full report of Operation Get Grissom when I do."
Sara laughed, a bright, tinkling sound. "Get Grissom . . . I like that, Nick. I'll see you tomorrow."
Nick gave her one last hug, then pushed her back into the chair. "Hang out for a while. See you later!" He left the room still laughing and shaking his head.
Sara sat for close to ten minutes more. She closed her eyes, for once oblivious to the pain in her hand, and replayed the conversation in her mind. What she'd told Nick had been true; she really didn't know what was going on with Grissom. But he was right that she'd only been thinking of Grissom this week. No matter what Nick told her, though, she just wasn't sure that he'd ever come around. And if he rejected her again, she was just going to want to curl up into a little ball and cry.
Sara was horribly afraid that if she stayed here much longer, her resolution would slip and she'd fall right back into love with the infuriating man sharing her room.
"Sara." Dr. LaBianca's voice brought her back from reality. "Come on, I need to see your hand." Sara smiled weakly and allowed the doctor who was quickly becoming a friend to help her out of the chair, but her steps lagged as she followed him back toward her room.
When they entered, the doctor gave Grissom a look Sara couldn't interpret. "Grissom, could you please go amuse yourself somewhere else while I look at Sara?"
"Why?" he asked quickly. "Is something wrong?" Had Nick done something that hurt her? She'd been in the lounge with him a long time.
"No, no. I just want to talk to her about, uh, female medical stuff."
That was a bald-faced lie, Grissom knew, but he decided not to argue. "Sure. I'll be in the coffee shop."
Dr. LaBianca looked at Sara solemnly when Grissom was gone. "Now, Sara, before I check your hand, I want to know what went on in there."
"In where?"
"In the lounge with that man."
Sara blinked at him, wondering if the good doctor was losing it. "Nothing. We talked. Can we get on with this?" She held out her hand expectantly, but he didn't take it.
The doctor sat down in what Sara was beginning to think of as Grissom's Chair. "I've allowed Grissom to stay here for the past two days because I thought I was helping your relationship. I know that you're not married, and I know that the man who just left is supposed to be the one you're interested in, but I'm old and I decided to meddle." He sighed heavily. "If I'm not helping you by encouraging Grissom, Sara, tell me now and I will ask him to leave. I like the man, but you are my patient, not him, and it's you I'm concerned with."
Before Sara could answer, he added, "Before you make a decision, may I tell you what I see between you young people?"
Sara shrugged. "I suspect you will anyway."
LaBianca repeated the story about his courtship that he'd told Grissom earlier. " . . . and she knelt down next to me and whispered that I was a complete idiot who didn't deserve her, but I could have her anyway." He smiled gently. "I see the same dynamic between you and Gil, Sara. I don't know what precipitated him dragging you into the hospital, but I know that you're much calmer when he's here with you. Your pulse and blood pressure drop as soon as you see him.
"I may be an old fool, but I know my medicine. Biology doesn't lie, Sara. Grissom makes you comfortable. The other man . . . well, let's just say that he's not as healthy for your vital signs."
Sara sighed. "I honestly don't know what I feel for Grissom right now, Doctor, and I don't know what he feels for me. But you're right about his effect on me. And frankly, I'm worried that if Grissom isn't here with me, I might just go totally insane and start throwing things at the staff."
LaBianca chuckled. "Well, I'll leave the falling in love part to you. I just wanted to make sure you didn't mind my machinations."
"Plot all you want, Doc. I'll throw a hamburger at you when I get tired of it." She smiled. "Can I have Grissom back before you take those tweezers to me?"
Without responding, the doctor opened the door to Sara's room and peered around the corner. Within seconds, Grissom was back in the room and sitting down on Sara's bed. "Coffee shop, huh, Gris?" Sara laughed.
Grissom flushed. "I drank fast."
"Okay, now that the gang's all here," LaBianca said, "shall we begin the torture? Just kidding, Sara! Today should actually be easier than yesterday, though I may have to do a small amount of debriding.
"Grissom . . . have I mentioned lately that I hate you?" Sara growled through clenched teeth. She held her hand out obediently and looked at Grissom. "Get your butt over here, Gris. I'm sure as hell not going through this again without inflicting some pain on you."
Grissom did as ordered, but sat stiffly beside her, offering only his hand. He was tongue-tied and feeling out of control. What had gone on between Nick and Sara?
Dr. LaBianca handled the tweezers gently. "Alright, then," he said after examining the wound. "It's looking better, but it's still not bleeding. That means that I do need to remove some of the dead tissue, Sara. The good news is that since it's dead, the tissue no longer has active nerves. The bad news is that I can't avoid hitting the living tissue underneath, so you'll feel some pain."
Sara grimaced. Suddenly aware that Grissom's warm body wasn't pressed protectively around hers this time, she turned to face him. "Listen, Grissom, this is not the time to go all male ego on me. I'll tell you about it later if you really need to know, but if you don't actually provide some comfort right now, I'm going to be the one wringing your neck, not the other way around."
Grissom frowned. "Sara, I . . ." He didn't know what to say to her. "Alright," he said finally, and moved closer to her. As he'd been afraid, the moment his shoulder touched hers, the desire to just wrap his arms around her and never let any other man near her resurfaced.
Using what he thought was probably his last shred of restraint, Grissom put an arm around her shoulders supportively. "It'll be fine, Sara. Debriding isn't as bad as having the bandage removed. Just don't watch."
"Easy for you to say. Ow!" she squeaked, more in surprise than pain, as the doctor began to slowly clip off graying tissue. Almost involuntarily, Sara squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Grissom's shoulder.
Grissom rubbed a comforting hand over her back and started whispering a story about one of his prized racing cockroaches. ". . . And I was totally perplexed on the issue of whether roaches could actually sustain leg injuries, or whether he'd just lost part of his leg along the way. So there I am after everyone else has left, nose an inch away from the track, when this maintenance man comes up behind me. 'Lose a contact?' he said, and I told him no, I was looking for part of my cockroach's leg. I'll tell you, Sara, I've never seen a person's eyebrows nearly shoot off their head before. The man must have thought I was completely insane, the way he took off out of that warehouse."
He was gratified to hear a small giggle coming from his shoulder. "That didn't really happen, Grissom, did it?" Her words were muffled, but considering his experience with muffled sounds, Grissom had little trouble understanding her.
"Of course it's true, Sidle," he told her sternly. "When have I ever lied to you?" Sara snorted, then sucked in her breath.
Dr. LaBianca raised his head from his work. "Almost done, Sara. That pain you just felt was me bumping into the healing tissue, which means that I've nearly got the dead tissue gone."
Both Grissom and Sara were now removed from the spell his storytelling had woven. It was on the tip of Grissom's tongue to demand, yet again, a local anesthetic for Sara, though the rational part of his brain told him it wasn't medically worth it. Twenty minutes of time to numb versus five minutes of debriding wasn't worth the time, money, or effort.
"There," the doctor said, sitting back. "All done, and you're free from any poking, tweezing, or ripping until this time tomorrow. I'll have a nurse come in and re-bandage you, then you can take a well-deserved nap," he said over his shoulder on his way out.
Sara muttered something that was supposed to be a thank-you, but sounded more like a pox upon the doctor's descendents.
" Well that's certainly not the nicest thing to say to the gentlest doc in this hospital!" It was the nurse, Rosa, again. She was standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, a roll of gauze dangling from one hand.
"Sorry," Sara managed, fighting the smile that wanted to pop onto her face.
"Well you ought to be! Bruce has the best bedside manner in here, and if you don't approve of it, you're out of luck."
"Hey, hey," Sara said, holding up her hands in supplication, "I was just complaining because he's the one who has the take off the bandages and inflict the pain."
Rosa nodded shortly, accepting Sara's quasi-apology. When she turned to retrieve the hated package of bandage that she'd set on a table, Sara leaned over to Grissom and whispered, "Bruce? Bruce LaBianca?" Grissom shrugged.
"Ok, I surrender, Rosa," Sara said sweetly. "Bandage me up and I promise not to badmouth Dr. . . . Bruce . . . anymore until he rips this thing off me again tomorrow."