Disclaimer: I have no energy…refer to the last nine chapters. ;o)
Author's Note: I am sorry to say that, for whatever reason, the reviews are not showing up on the review page. All but one, that is, by CrAxYPiXiE(thanks, by the way!) No need to fear, however, I have been able to read the reviews via my e-mail account. Luckily everytime someone submits a comment, it sends notification to my e-mail along with the comment itself. So, yes, I have been able to read all the encouragement sent my way! Unfortunately, I erased the e-mail notifications thinking that sooner or later the reviews would appear on the website. No such luck. Sooner or later came and went and still…nada. So, for all you who took the time to write, thank you thank you thank you. You are my sunshine, my only sunshi—. Okay, you get the point. *Winks*
Special shout out to PassionatePapist, who's hilarious/brilliant review stuck in my head(how could it not!?) and totally made my day! Thank you so much!!! That was awesome!
Dealing: Chapter Ten
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"I saw you kiss her."
Nick felt as if he had been socked in the stomach, a sensation that left him out of breath. His knees jellied, and he couldn't seem to find his voice. No, she's got it all wrong. He wanted to tell her that, but he just could not speak.
"You don't look so good, Nick." Sara sardonically stated. "Feeling guilty?"
"I…I,"—Defend yourself you idiot—"Sara, it's really not what you think."
Sara looked at him expectantly, waiting. She watched Nick standing there, so unnatural in his awkwardness, eyes wide and stammering. She wanted him to tell her she had it wrong, that what she saw didn't actually happen. She wished it so badly that if, right then, Nick said to her that it wasn't even him in the café, she would have believed him and rested easy in the denial that had taken over her unbelieving mind.
Go on Nick. Tell me…tell me I'm wrong.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair. That's when Sara noticed it—he was sweating. Which everyone knows equals a sure sign of guiltiness. He'd been caught. Like a deer in headlights, Sara mused.
Having waited long enough for an unneeded explanation, Sara rolled her eyes and sighed, her head hanging in sadness. She began moving forward, eyes on the exit door.
"Wait, Sara…" Nick desperately called, moving in front of her to block her path. "Listen, it wasn't…it wasn't even a real kiss."
Sara flinched as if he had just spit on her.
"Nick," Sara began. "Listen, I'm not one to know what kind of girls you've dated in the past—how many or what they were like. I really don't know if this is something you do, the sort of situation that maybe you've found yourself in before. Whatever crap lines you've quite possibly used in order to clear yourself, or to get away with sticky situations with past flings…" Sara paused momentarily, trying to find the right words. She let out a sharp sigh, inching closer to Nick before continuing. "My point is, Nick, I'm not an idiot and that kiss that you claim was supposedly not real…well…lets just say it didn't look so fake to me." She glanced down. "In fact, it looked about as real as they come."
Nick choked on her words.
"Sara," Nick finally spoke, standing firmly in her way. "I know you're not an idiot. I know what that kiss must've looked like to you…but…you don't understand—,"
The break room door flung open. Sara jumped and both turned at the same time.
"Hey Sara?" Warrick stood in the doorway, holding sheets of paper up in his right hand. His eyes glanced suspiciously back and forth between Nick and Sara, noticing the stiffness to their bodies. Realizing he must have interrupted something he grew uncomfortable. "Uh, sorry to barge in and all. Sara, I just wanted to let you know that your faxes came through."
Sara nodded silently.
"Ok then. I'll, um, just lay them here on the table." Warrick awkwardly leaned in and set the faxes on the table nearest the door. "See ya." He spoke, quickly departing.
Nick turned his attention back to Sara.
"Uh…where was I?" He searched his mind on how to begin his defense.
"Actually, I was just leaving."
Nick cringed, shaking his head.
"What, you're not even gonna give me a chance to explain myself?"
Sara glanced from Nick to the floor to Nick again.
I don't need him feeling sorry for me. Don't let him see that he's hurt you.
"You don't need to explain."
"I don't…?" Nick was confused.
"No. Because…" Sara knew what she wanted to say, even though her heart begged her not to voice the thoughts. "Because, Nick, you and I both know that our kiss was a mistake. Plain and simple. It didn't mean anything."
"Sara…"
"We both had wine, it was raining. I don't know, I guess it was just too easy to get caught up in the moment. Wine can do that to people." Sara cleared her throat and looked past Nick, his unblinking stare making her extremely vulnerable. "So stop feeling bad about the café incident…because our kiss should never have happened."
Nick felt that winded sock sensation to his stomach again.
Sara nodded slowly to herself, accepting her own words. As much as it pained her to admit it, she knew their kiss had to have been a mistake. Nick made that pretty clear at the café.
She stole a peek up at Nick. His expression was unreadable. He stood rigid, staring ahead at nothing, his jaw clenched slightly.
As far as Sara was concerned, it was for the best to remove all this added drama in her life right now.
It wasn't about her and Nick anymore, no, it was about her work. She needed to give back the one hundred and ten percent she was so accustomed to giving, yet had somehow let all these new distractions creep in.
Just concentrate on your job, Sara, and everything will go back to normal.
It was hard for her to immediately accept that Nick and her could be nothing more than partners working on a case together, but it was something she needed to do to gain control back in her life. Her and Nick were CSI partners, nothing more. Better I figured it out now rather than later, she thought.
Sara gave a small shrug.
"Well, I'll meet back with you later. We've got a lot of case work to do."
And with that she stepped around Nick and strode out the room, leaving him standing alone. She turned longingly back at the door after departing, walking backwards while facing it, wishing momentarily that Nick would come bursting out to magically fix the thing she knew shouldn't have been made to break in the first place.
Mentally chiding herself, she turned around and picked up her stride.
This is for the best. Mind off Nick... back on reality. Time to deal and move on.
Like she thought earlier, better the realization came now than later.
The last thing Sara expected, however, was to find herself in the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, searching for every last bit of strength left within her to regain composure.
************
Nick had his share of awkward moments. Moments when he felt as if things just couldn't get any worse. Moments when he'd give anything to just shrivel up, disappear. Moments when everyone around obviously recognizes the awkwardness, its heaviness lingering in the air so much one could practically taste it. Yep, he thought, this was definitely one of those moments. This was awkward.
Sara was sitting across from him at the large table in the break room, mulling over the information sprawled out in front of her. She was anxiously chewing on her pen, and Nick noticed her eyes were very adamantly on her work, and nothing else. I wonder what she's really thinking, Nick contemplated. It had taken them a little over an hour to meet up again after their confrontation in the same room and Nick was feeling every bit of it still in the pit of his stomach.
He was reading his copy of the case report, pen tapping lightly in his left hand. His eyes flicked up at her now and then, wondering when would be the best time to attempt cordial conversation.
Sara's head was propped up with her free hand, as if she was physically incapable of holding it up on her own. Sara placed her pen back on the table, opting now to chew on her bottom lip. For a brief moment, Sara lifted her head to stare out the glass door, and then turned back to her work, only to find her partner watching her curiously.
Sara got the feeling that this putting-the-past-behind-her-thing wasn't going to be easy at all. Maybe because the "past" was still so fresh.
She cleared her throat.
"Alright," She guided a piece of paper towards Nick with her hand. "I placed some calls on Randy McMasters. I got a few faxes back with information loaded on this guy."
Nick pulled the paper closer and glanced at the information.
Sara watched him read and hesitated before speaking again. "Um, notice his place of birth." She said, pointing to a specific region on the page.
"San Francisco." Nick read aloud. He glanced up. "Isn't that?"
"Connie's old hometown? Yes."
"Coincidence?"
"Could have been. Connie and Randy might not have known each other in California. San Francisco is a big city. However, further examination leads me to believe otherwise." Sara pulled out another sheet from under her file and slid it to Nick. "Chew on that." She said, tilting her head towards the new paper, referring to the extra info.
Curiously, Nick read.
"Hmm. Seems unlikely that Randy and Connie would have moved to Vegas from the same city at the same and not have known each other."
"You think they had an affair?"
"Why, because Connie and Frank were married in San Francisco?"
"Well, think about it. If they had an affair while Connie was married, it might explain why they both moved to Vegas at the same time. In that paper it states that the Trevorsons' move was based on Frank's new position at that marketing corporation. Maybe Randy followed them."
"Makes sense." Nick confirmed.
"I wonder if Randy was the reason for the divorce."
"Frank denied ever knowing a Randy McMasters when questioned. Didn't even recognize his picture. He could be lying. He seems very suspicious still to me. Franks still a suspect with great motive." Nick reasoned.
"Eh. Franks not involved. It's a strong feeling I have….I can't explain it."
Nick narrowed his eyes at Sara. It wasn't like her to base things on strong feelings alone. Besides, it wasn't professional.
"Anyways, we should place some more phone calls. See if anyone ever spotted Randy and Connie together back in San Francisco."
Sara nodded and returned her gaze to her files. She yawned and stretched her arms out behind her, leaning slightly backward in her chair. Nick watched her, wondering if maybe now she'd let him explain himself to her. Maybe they still had a chance…
"Sara—,"
"I think they should release the kids back to their father." Sara interrupted.
Nick cringed.
"The children have been alone long enough. They need their father back in their life." She continued.
"Are you kidding, Sara? He's still a suspect. For all we know, he and Randy could have been in on the murder together." Nick quickly replied, growing frustrated at Sara. What was with her? She knew better.
"No, Frank's innocent." She stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh really? Is 1-800-Psychic-Sara now your second job?" He leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised.
"Very funny." She spoke defensively.
Already irritated that Sara had so easily distracted him from bringing up the café incident again, he sat upright in his seat. She was not making working with her an easy task.
"Besides, Sara. The kids aren't alone, they have very capable people watching, protecting, them."
She shook her head, obviously making known her disagreement with his last comment. Her current stubbornness was causing major friction at that moment with Nick, making him on edge.
"You know, Sara, we're looking for something a little more concrete here than mere intuition. Assuming Frank isn't involved based on a strong feeling is irritating, to say the least, and most importantly, something we weren't trained to do."
"Nick, the last thing I need is you telling me how to handle my case."
"Your case? Oh, it's your case now?" Nick lashed back, glaring at Sara.
She clenched her teeth.
There was obviously underlying tension present, tension from earlier that day that made it more than effortless enough to argue about the littlest of things.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally Sara ran a hand through her hair and sat forward.
"Arguing never gets anyone anywhere. Let's just drop the personal opinions, okay?"
"Great." Nick growled.
Another fifteen minutes passed in utter silence.
This is torture, Nick thought. Sara was obviously angered, her normally light complexion reddening right before Nick's eyes. Yet she remained fixated on the file, frequently making a notation or two in the margins.
"We need to get out there." Nick's voice broke the silence, hoping to lighten the mood. "Get some field work done. I'm going crazy just sitting here." Nick watched for Sara to say something. She didn't, and he wondered if she was purposefully ignoring him. After several minutes Nick abruptly shut the folder and tossed it aside, rubbing his eyes in thought.
"So, Sara…..you gonna ignore me forever?"
"I'm not ignoring you."
"Does that mean you'll let me talk then?"
"About what?"
Nick leaned forward.
"You know about what. About the other night….and about yesterday." His voice was seductively low and serious.
Sara sighed loudly, shaking her head.
"I told you Nick, it would be a waste of our time."
"Sara, look me in the eye and tell me our kiss meant nothing to you."
Whatever you do Sara, don't look him in the eyes, she coached herself, remembering the effect they had on her.
"It doesn't matter, Nick. We're done talking about this." Sara spoke, determinedly.
"Look at me."
Sara closed her eyes, head down. Slowly, she looked up at him, unable to resist his pull on her. Nick caught her gaze, held it. Her lips parted slightly, and she opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, yet nothing came out.
"Tell me." He whispered. Sara's heart rate increased significantly.
Entranced she just gazed at him.
"Tell me…" he repeated. "Tell me it meant nothing to you…"
He swore he saw it in her eyes, the same yearn for him that he felt the other night with her.
Briefly she remained fixated, allowing Nick's words to melt her fears. Then from somewhere deep inside her an alarm went off, a warning.
Suddenly her eyes shadowed, turning cold.
"It meant nothing."
She stood up, grabbed her file and left as quickly as possible. As she exited the building, she felt as if her body were trying to swim against a strong ocean current that was recklessly pulling her in the opposite way. The current was that of a very powerful nature. The current was the magnetic "force" of Nick.
*********
The microwave beeping jolted Nick out of his somber daze. As he opened the door to retrieve his popcorn, he immediately recognized his lack of appetite and tossed the heated bag in the trash. He paced his home, turning on and shutting off the same CD in his stereo numerous times. It was as if he was in a trance, unable to function correctly…sort of like a zombie. Every time he pressed play on his stereo, he realized just how much he didn't have any desire to listen to music, and he would quickly shut it off, his nerves jangled.
Sara had gotten to him. She had gotten to him like no other woman had before. Her words had the impact of steel grate, and he hung onto every one of them, wishing he could brush off the effect they had on him, nevertheless aware of their crushing power.
It meant nothing. Her voice echoed in his brain, allowing his head to throb, not remotely caring that the pain was dulling his senses.
No way. He had felt something between their kiss. He was not insane. It was not merely one-sided…the connection he felt during the kiss was indescribable. Why was she denying it?
Nick clicked on the TV and crashed back on his sofa, allowing himself to become swallowed by his cushions. Two minutes later, he clicked off the TV.
His mind wandered to Sara. It was clear that she was bitter. The anger in her eyes was undeniable. Why did it have to come to this? He wondered, hating everything about the way they talked to each other earlier. He laid his head back on the cushions and stared at his popcorn ceiling. Fidgety, his mind going a mile a minute, he allowed his restless energy to impel him off the couch. He wandered to the window, resting his forehead on the cold glass, staring off into the night's darkness. Why wouldn't she give him the chance to explain? Why was she making him so crazy? He realized there had never been a time in his life when he had felt such an intense combination of emotions. He felt so restive, so frustrated, so confused, so...empty.
He closed his eyes, allowing the cold windowpane to ease his numbing headache.
*********
Author's Note: Well, not to sound like a broken record, but I'd be greatly appreciative if I got a review from you! Please respond…tell me what you liked; tell me what you didn't like. Either/or. Even if they don't show up on the site, I get them anyways on my e-mail! More to come…so stay tuned. ;-)
