Drunken Innocence
Disclaimer: Characters aren't my fault. The story, however, is. Sorry
Spoilers: PWF
Authors Note: Definitely not G/S. Maybe a touch of W/S. There might be/should be /will never be more. [Delete as appropriate]
The call caught him between the break room, after getting a much-needed cup of coffee, and the exit door. The end of shift hadn't come soon enough. It had been dead, in the figurative way of speaking, which was good for the citizens of Las Vegas, not so good for him and Nick. They'd had nothing to do all shift except watch the workman rebuilding the blown up lab, and talk about the explosion, watching the clock for every torturous minute till seven am and they could legitimately leave. Everyone knew by now that Catherine had confessed, and taken the full rap for, for the explosion, which had been caused by some hokey potion that they had collected from a crime scene and a near by hot plate.
He checked the caller id as he took the phone from his pocket, surprised to see Sara highlighted. What was she doing calling him? Did the girl not know the meaning of the words night off? He flipped open the lid as he brought the phone to his ear, hearing strains of what sounded suspiciously like YMCA.
Before he even had a chance to speak a greeting, Sara began to talk. 'I just wanted to let you know something.' She started. She didn't sound like Sara, and Warrick quickly realised that Sara was drunk. Very drunk if he had to guess. He was about to speak when Sara carried on, not giving him the chance. 'I just wanted to explain what this is. Or isn't.' Warrick was getting confused, but couldn't keep the smile off his face at her voice. Her words, in a bid to probably not sound drunk, were spoke with such concentration they sounded false.
'You see, Grissom, you made a mistake.' The smile dropped slowly from Warrick's face as he heard their supervisor's name mentioned. He again tried to interrupt but Sara was in her stride and talked right over him, ploughing right on, forcing Warrick into silence and the not so pleasant task of listening. 'You assumed. After all your lectures about assuming, and you did it.'
Warrick should probably have tried harder to tell Sara that he wasn't whom she thought she was talking to. But whatever Sara had used the alcohol to get the courage to say aloud to Grissom was, she was going to say it that much was obvious. He probably should have hung up instead, but a small part of him was mildly curious, okay, a lot curious, and he couldn't stop listening.
'You assumed I was asking you out on a date. Well I wasn't. I was asking you out to dinner. There's a difference. And yes I wanted to talk to you, to talk about this, but not the this you assumed it to be. You see I might have had a small crush on you when I was at college but I got over that a long time ago. It wasn't like you gave me much choice.'
Warrick gulped. This was getting into way too personal stuff for him. But as a small part of him was cringing, he carried on listening, unable to stop.
'Anyway. As I said, I got past it, I moved on. I wanted to talk to you about the blast. About how I can't walk past the lab without seeing the explosion again. But oh no, you couldn't even come out to dinner with me. Well ugh.' One of Warrick's eyebrows raised in amusement at the noise Sara made over the phone. 'You see, I've been thinking. Maybe I should leave. Not like I have anything keeping me at the lab, is it? Not like you'd care.'
'Uh Sara?' Warrick finally said.
There was silence over the phone. Then a giggle. He imagined that she'd finally looked at the display and seen exactly who she was talking to. 'Warrick.' She stated simply.
'Yeah, Sara. I think you dialled wrong.' He said, stating the obvious.
'Guess I did.' She said.
'Where are you, Sara?' He asked, knowing that there were more than a few bars still open at this time of night. Or morning, he corrected himself.
'Why would I tell you that?' She slurred. Now that she was no longer deluded she was speaking to Grissom she had dropped the pretences.
'Because I think you might want a lift home.' Warrick told her.
She giggled. 'And you're gonna come and rescue me? I'm a big girl, Warrick, I can look after myself.'
'I don't doubt that. Maybe I just wanted to get a drink now that shifts finished.' He said.
'Oh.' Sara said, in her inebriated state believing the obvious lie. 'I don't know the name. Does great drinks though. The glasses are all cold.' Her voice had taken on a girly singsong quality now.
Warrick frowned, trying to remember who froze their serving glasses and who'd still be open at this time. The only place he could think of was The Valentine, but it was so sleazy, he couldn't imagine Sara going there.
'It's not all decorated in red, is it Sara?'
'Um…lot's of red. Very pretty. Nice colour.'
The smile returned to Warrick's face as he shook his head. 'You're at The Valentine. I'll meet you there in ten. Save me a drink, ok?'
'Sure. A drink. Don't know if I'll make it to the bar again though…' She trailed off, and Warrick waited. 'Maybe if I used the stools.' She added thoughtfully.
'You stay still, I'll get the next round in, ok?'
'What about, um…' He could almost hear her brain trying to think through the alcohol. 'Nick!' She finally said triumphantly. 'What. About. Nick?' She asked, speaking in that deliberate tone again.
'He left already. But I'll bet he's not gonna be happy he missed this.'
'Me. All drunk.' Sara supplied for him.
'Yep, that was what I was thinking. See you in ten, Sidle.' He snapped the phone, having to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all, still with a smile on his face as he got to his car and started it up.
The Valentine, like a lot of places on the strip never closed it's doors. It was a sixty bedroom hotel, advertising cable tv and rooms by the hour. It was on the lower end of the strip, away from the big attractions, but getting a patronage nevertheless. The sign outside had a big bleeding heart cut through with an arrow, the name written in flashy pink neon lights. Warrick parked in the hotel car park, not seeing Sara's car anywhere near, which made him wonder how she'd got here.
He stepped into the dimness of the bar, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark after the bright sunlight outside. He looked all around, finally spotting Sara sat at a booth in the far corner, glasses stacked in front of her testament to what she'd been doing all night. Warrick was quietly impressed as he wandered through the nearly deserted bar. There were a lot of glasses on the table, and Sara was still sitting upright.
She jumped up when she saw him, a big smile on her face. 'Warrick, you came!' Warrick grinned at the overly excited behaviour from the usually demure science whiz, surprised when she grabbed him in a big hug. 'Take a seat. Order a drink. The bartender's real nice.' She told him.
Warrick looked over at the bartender who wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was watching Sara in the overhead mirror. Any other time and Warrick knew Sara would be shouting about being the object of such lecherous actions. Now, Sara was too drunk to care.
Warrick held up his hand. 'Two OJs' He told the bartender, adding in a hard stare for effect that had him scuttling to the other end of the bar as if a fire had been lit under his butt.
'OJ?' Sara asked, sounding disgusted at such an innocent choice. Warrick ignored her, studying her as if she was a piece of evidence presented to him instead. He quickly decided that this had been a long night for Sara. Her shirt was held together by two buttons, revealing more than a little of the bra she wore. Her hair was pulled back in a rough ponytail, clumps of hair that had made bids for freedom roughly shoved behind her ears. Eyes that were looking at him had only a soft focus to them, and Warrick wondered how many of him she was seeing. It was so different to the normally composed girl Warrick was used to. The cuts on her face, the bandaged hand the signs of the blast.
'What?' Sara finally snapped, shifting under the look.
'Think it's time to go home?' He asked.
'No. It's too early.'
'It's seven. AM.' Warrick emphasised
Sara waved a dismissive hand. 'way too early.'
'One more drink.' He saw her eyes light up. 'Of OJ.' He added. 'Then I'll drive you home.'
'I've got my car.' Sara told him, wide eyed and innocent.
'You're also about twenty times over the limit.' Warrick reminded her. 'And I didn't see your car outside.' He added.
Her brow furrowed as she thought about this. 'It's not parked out front?' She asked.
'No.' But he could take a fair guess that if she had parked it out front, it had been towed long ago. Probably better not to go into that now. She probably wouldn't remember the conversation anyway. 'We'll get it tomorrow.' He told her.
'Yeah. Tomorrow.' She echoed.
The bartender came up, flashing Sara a grin that revealed several gaps in his teeth. Warrick cleared his throat, and did the glaring thing, and the two drinks were placed not so carefully on the table and the man stalked away.
Sara turned fiery eyes on him. 'He was just being nice!'
Warrick laughed. 'He was making eyes at you. As he probably has done all night.'
Sara looked over at the bartender, squinting slightly. 'He was still being nice.' She said defensively.
Warrick shrugged, knowing that he wasn't going to win an argument like this with her. Not in her state, anyway. And if she wasn't in this state, she probably would have slapped the guy herself, so…it was all a bit pointless anyway.
Sara picked up a pack of cigarettes Warrick hadn't noticed lying on the table in between all the glasses. The ashtray was full of butts. The bartender was obviously more concerned with eyeing up the patrons rather than doing his job. Sara offered out the packet to him, and he shook his head, watching as she slid a cigarette out and tried to light it with none too steady hands. 'You know, those things will kill you?' Warrick said, leaning forward to take the lighter off her before she could set light to her clothing or hair or something.
'So what?' She challenged, leaning forward, taking a deep breath as Warrick lit the cigarette for her.
'I never knew you smoked.' He said instead of answering her question.
Sara blew out a mouthful of smoke, aiming it up towards the ceiling, and regarded him. 'There's a lot of things you don't know about me.' For the first time, Sara sounded almost sober, and as she looked at him with piercing eyes, he started feeling uncomfortable.
'Ain't that the truth…' He murmured. He never pictured her as someone who would get pissed on an all out bender for starters.
'Why are you here, Warrick?' She asked, in an almost accusing tone.
'You called me, remember?'
Despite the almost normal sounding voice, it still took Sara a while to remember this. She screwed up her face in thought. 'I did?'
'Yes, you did.'
'Why would I call you?' She asked, causing just a tinge of hurt to ride up in him.
He brushed it briskly away. 'You tell me.' He said instead with a shrug.
She looked down at her phone, even picking it up, regarding it carefully, as if the blue plastic cover held the answer. She finally put the phone down and shrugged. 'I was just gonna go home.' She said, downing the OJ in one and getting to her feet.
Warrick jumped up as Sara immediately began to sway, looking like she was heading to the floor the quick way. He wedged an arm around her waist, managing just to keep her on her feet.
He looked over at the bartender. 'What do I owe you?' He asked.
'Fifty eight dollars.' The bartender told him after a quick look at a piece of paper on the bar.
Warrick baulked. '58 bucks?'
'That's what I said.'
He looked down at the brunette clamped to his side, most of who's weight he was currently holding upright, and looked back at the bartender. With his free hand he pulled out his wallet, manoeuvring with difficulty to get three twenties out without letting Sara do what gravity wanted her to do.
He dumped the lot on the table, glared at the bartender for good measure, before trying to walk Sara out.
Now that she was standing, all pretences at even being slightly sober were all lost. She couldn't walk, that much was obvious. She could barely move a foot. Half carrying her, half cajoling her, he finally got her outside and to his car. He lent her against it so that he could search for his keys, but she immediately started to slide sideways, straight backed, and would have just fallen straight over if Warrick hadn't caught her, holding her clamped to the car firmly with one hand as he finally located his keys.
Getting her sitting in the passenger seat took a full minute, because Sara had for some inexplicable reason erupted into fits of giggles and was totally uncooperative. He was getting ever so slightly annoyed, and was beginning to wish he hadn't felt the need to come and rescue her and had gone home to bed instead. He finally managed to get her sitting in the seat, belt on, Sara quiet now, although still with a secret smile on her face.
He regarded her for a moment. 'Are you going to puke?' he asked. 'Because if you are, I want you to tell me now, so I can get you out, rather than somewhere on the road where I can't stop.' Warrick said, leaning against the door jam as he watched her think.
It took a while, but finally she slowly shook her head. 'I'm not gonna puke.' She told him.
'Good.' He slammed the door, and walked round to his side of the car.
Conversations with a drunk Sara were certainly entertaining, if not much sense. She'd started the car journey by insisting on playing I Spy. Then it was the Beetle game where she smacked him, amazingly hard for someone that couldn't walk, on the arm whenever a beetle drive past. Or any car, really, as Sara didn't seem to be able to distinguish types in her current state. Then Sara told him, in a conspiratorial whisper, that she thought Greg had a crush on her. And that Hank was a bastard. And she'd heard he'd broken a finger slamming it into a door, and didn't feel at all sorry for him. He soon discovered that Sara's language use became a lot more colourful when under the influence of alcohol. He was discovering a lot about her this morning.
He pulled up outside his house and killed the engine, just as Sara finished telling him that she really thought she was a little drunk.
'Really?' Warrick asked amused as he stepped out of the car and walked round to help Sara out.
She looked at him as he opened the door, having made no effort to even move to take off her belt. She squinted up at the house in front of her. 'That's not my apartment.' She stated the obvious.
'I know.' He said, leaning across her to free her seat belt.
He heard her giggle as he inadvertently brushed against her. 'I like your arms Warrick.' She told him in what he could only think of as a girly flirtatious tone as he straightened up.
'Thanks.' He said dryly.
'Do you work out a lot?' She asked, the tone still there, studying him so that goose bumps appeared on his arm. Again her look was less drunk, more deadly serious.
'Only when I have to.' He joked. 'Think you can walk?'
Any thoughts that she was sobering up left as she deftly nodded, tried to swing her legs around, caught them on the frame and lurched dangerously forward.
Warrick caught her by the shoulders, sitting her back up. 'Oops.' She giggled. 'The car moved.'
'Uh huh.' He said, deciding there was only one-way he was gonna get her into the house before night fall. Not telling her the plan, he picked her up in his arms, closing the door with his foot.
She looked up at him, a wide-eyed look of innocence. 'Why are we at your house?' She asked.
'Because I don't think I should leave you alone in this state.' Warrick told her.
'Why not? Doesn't usually make a difference.' Sara told him.
Warrick shrugged with difficulty. 'Don't want you asphyxiating on your own vomit or something.'
'I don't get sick.' Sara told him.
'Yeah right.' He said.
'I don't.' She protested. 'Get a killer hangover, but don't get sick.' She was silent for a moment then asked 'Am I drunk, Warrick?'
'Very.' He told her.
'Think I'll get a hang over?' She asked, snuggling slightly into his arms.
'It seems likely.'
'That's probably not good.' She told him.
Getting the front door open was no mean feat, and he carried her through to the guest room. 'Warrick, can I ask you something?' She asked as he sat her on the bed.
'Sure.' He told her, standing over her and watching that she didn't fall off the bed.
'Do you like me?'
Warrick raised an eyebrow at the question. 'Of course I like you.' He told her.
She shuffled back slightly, or that was what she was trying to do. Warrick caught her as she lurched sideways, sitting her up straight again. 'Sometimes, I don't think you do.' She told him, the serious tone back, even if she was swaying as she said it.
'Why would you think that?' He asked, wondering if he wanted to pursue this with her now, with her in this state.
'Because Grissom brought me to the lab to investigate you.' She told him.
'He brought you in to investigate Holly's death.' Warrick corrected.
Sara waved away the difference, causing Warrick to quickly grab her again as a sway took her dangerously close to a nose dive off the bed. He sat down beside her, deciding it would be safer to hold her steady.
'But then,' She carried on, as if she'd already started the sentence. 'Grissom made me investigate you again.' The infliction she gave to Grissom's name then, made him think back to the earlier conversation.
'You did what you had to do.' He said. 'It was a long time ago. We've moved on.'
'Have we? Sometimes I never think I'll fit in at the lab.'
'You fit in now.'
'No I don't. Catherine doesn't think I'm a good CSI. You don't like me because I investigated you, and Nick just…' She trailed off. 'Well I can't think what Nick does, but Nick doesn't count because he's too nice to everyone.'
Warrick chuckled a bit at that. Talk about a drunk stating the truth about things. Some things anyway.
'And Grissom. Ah Grissom. Bastard.' She muttered with venom.
Warrick got that uncomfortable feeling again.
'Do you know we kissed one time?' She suddenly asked.
Warrick swung his head round so fast he almost got whiplash. 'You kissed Grissom?'
'Yeah. It was years back. When I was in college. We got talking one night, all night. And as he went to go we just kissed.'
Warrick had guessed there was history, but he hadn't guessed it was this.
'Would have gone further if my room mate hadn't walked in.' She added.
Warrick wondered why she was telling him all this, why it was on her mind, feeling uncomfortable with the knowledge.
'He came round the next day. Said that as I was a student, and he was the professor, we couldn't see each other again. I told him he was a lousy kisser and who said I wanted to do it again anyway.'
Warrick grinned despite of himself.
'We hooked up again sometime later, at a convention, but he never mentioned it, always ignored it. That really got to me. Like I wasn't mature enough to have an adult conversation about that part of our lives. It wasn't like I still had a crush on him. Twenty pints of ice cream and double that of tequila in two days saw to that.' Warrick saw a soft, sad smile on her face, and he could imagine her working through the pain, like it was scientific program of getting over loss, of grieving.
'What was that dinner date about then?' Warrick finally asked, unable to stop himself.
'It. Wasn't. A. Date.' She said angrily, trying to whirl on him and failing miserably. After he'd sat her back up, he asked what it was then. 'Dinner. We're meant to be friends after all. I was having a rough time.'
'Was?'
'Was.' She said firmly.
'And the state you're in now has nothing to do with that?'
'None whatsoever.' She said just as firmly looking at him with huge hurting eyes.
'Sara, you can talk to me, you know.' He said softly. 'About whatever.'
'Why does he do that? Why, when we're meant to be friends does he do that? Treat me like I'm not even an associate much less a friend.'
'I don't know.' Warrick answered seriously.
She looked at him, the hurt still there.
'What did you mean when you said that you see the blast every time you walk past the lab?' Warrick asked.
Sara looked at him in confusion, and Warrick realised she probably didn't actually remember the conversation she'd had with him.
'It's what you said on the phone.' He added for her benefit.
'Nothing. Absolutely nothing.' She told him firmly.
For a while they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the distance ticking of a clock. 'I'm gonna go to bed now.' Sara said, falling straight back across the bed.
'You might wanna change first.' Warrick told her. 'I think you got alcohol down your top-it's all wet.' He got to his feet, walking to the door. 'I'll get you something to wear.' He said over his shoulder.
He walked back in, just as Sara was fiddling with the back of her bra top, blouse and trousers already in a heap on the floor. Warrick gulped, quickly turning around, although Sara had lost all inhibitions after so many drinks. 'Hey Warrick- I can't get this thing undone.' She whined, sounding like a five year old.
'Um…maybe you should just leave it on then.' He said, shifting from foot to foot, feeling the heat at his face.
'Don't like sleeping in them.' She said matter-of-factly. 'Please, Warrick.' She whined. 'Please. I don't like it. Please undo it.' He heard a rip, as what suspiciously sounded like tears came to Sara's voice.
He turned round, keeping his eyes fixed on her face, seeing real tears a sheen to her eyes. 'Ok, ok.' He placated her, not wanting to get her more emotional.
She sat still as he walked round, reaching out with trembling hands to snap open the bra. Warrick saw that in her desperation to get it off, she'd ripped the material around the clasp. He let it fall away. She went to turn around to thank him, so Warrick quickly shoved the old t-shirt he'd found for her to wear at her, and walked quickly for the door, hearing something sounding suspiciously like a giggle from behind him, followed by a loud thump as something heavy hit the floor, followed by a groan.
Reluctantly looking round, Warrick found Sara, mercifully with the t-shirt on, sprawled on the floor, looking somewhat uncertain as to what had happened.
He helped her up, getting her back on the bed, getting the sheets down so that she could get into the bed.
'Goodnight Sara.' He said, smoothing back curls from her face. Her eyes were already closed, and he smiled at the picture of innocence she was now.
'Night Warr.' She mumbled, turning over onto her front.
Warrick watched, standing over her, till her breathing settled into a regular pattern and he knew that she was a sleep.
The day had certainly started out different to most others. He realised how tired he was himself, and after watching her for a few moments more, a soft smile lighting his face, he left his sleeping beauty alcoholic to it.