You've probably noticed some weird looking signs () and those were
supposed to stand for thoughts, but since ff.net wouldn't work that way,
I've had to try something else. So, these // are supposed to indicate
their thoughts.
It was the early hours of the morning by the time they got back to Sara's house. Seeing as Maddie had preschool the next day and the elder Sidles and Andrews were planning to hit the casinos on their last day in Vegas, they figured that they could sleep during the day to get them ready for their night shift.
"Hey," Sara said suddenly ask they walked in the door in to the darkened hallway, "I don't know about you, but I don't think I'm going to be sleeping tonight. Want to watch some old movies, maybe?"
"Depends on what movie we'd be watching," Warrick replied.
"I don't know, the digitally remastered version of 'The Wizard of Oz'?" Sara suggested jokingly.
"We're off to see the Wizard! The wonderful wizard of Oz!" Warrick sang softly in what sounded like a choked up falsetto. "You have that?"
"No." Sara didn't say anything more as she turned the corner. She stopped and walked back to where Warrick was standing. "But I do have 'Gone with the Wind'." She looked puzzled for a second before answering, "Or maybe it's at Catherine's house. Lindsay needed it for a project on the Civil War."
"So, in other words," Warrick summarized, "you actually don't know what movies you have in your house." He walked into the living room shaking his head. "I think we're going to have to get you out more Sidle."
"Yeah, people have been telling me that for the past ten years," Sara said with a touch of nostalgia. Suddenly remembering that they were still in their clothes from dinner, she continued, "I'm going to get changed okay? You can use the bathroom if you want."
"Why would I want to use the washroom? I don't think anybody'd watch me," Warrick asked in bewilderment.
"Well, if you don't mind doing a striptease for my mother," Sara huffed, "Be my guest." She pointed to the doorway where, sure enough, stood the Sidle matriarch, trying in vain to blend in with the woodwork.
"Point taken," Warrick muttered as he gathered up his sleeping clothes and headed for the bathroom.
As soon as she heard the click of the washroom door, Sara whirled around to confront her mother. "Where were you for dinner tonight?" she demanded.
"At 'Galatians'," he mother answered simply, "We figured you two wouldn't want to hang around a bunch of old fuddy-duddies like us."
"You set us up!" Sara hissed, her voice sliding into a higher register.
"No," Mrs. Sidle corrected with a slight condescending air, "you set yourselves up. All I did was allow nature to take its course."
"By falsely telling us that we were all going to have dinner at Galactica!" Sara stated.
"No, what I said was, 'I made reservations.' I never said anything about who was going. You just assumed that on your own, my dear." Mrs. Sidle retorted smugly.
"Arg! Mother!" Sara groaned as she gesticulated wildly, trying to convey her displeasure at her mother's ways.
"So, how was dinner?" her mother asked sweetly, trying to get a reaction.
Sara parried with a question of her own. "So why are you awake, mom?" she asked.
"I was waiting up for my baby, of course!" the older woman said. At Sara's incredulous look, she added, "What? Just because you're 33 doesn't mean you're still not my little girl. Come on, you used to tell me everything that happened in your day. Humour me?"
// Only my mother could guilt trip me enough to spill my guts, // Sara thought. "Okay," she said slowly, trying to think of what to say. "I do have to admit, the restaurant was great." Her mother nodded encouragingly. "And we talked about lots of stuff, and then we danced."
"How long?" Mrs. Sidle demanded with excitement.
"Were we dancing?" Sara asked. When her mother nodded, she thought back, trying to place a specific period of time on it. "Well, we started dancing at about 8:30, and we left when they had to close. So about two and a half hours?"
"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but it's nearly two in the morning. Where were you?" her mother asked gently.
"Oh! We went to this 24 hour coffee shop, and we talked some more after that." After having said that, Sara proceeded to tell her mother every detail of her evening out, as the maternal question period always made her do unwittingly.
Warrick spent a little more time than he had expected in the washroom. When he walked out, he heard Sara's voice drifting out from the living room, saying, "I don't know what to make of it mom, I think I'm falling for him." That statement certainly piqued his attention.
"Well, if this is the way you feel about Wilbur-"
"Warrick," Sara interrupted.
"Wilbur, Warrick, whatever," Mrs. Sidle continued, unfazed by the interruption, "then you should tell him. Don't you remember what I used to always tell you? 'Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all'?"
"Yeah, but mom," Sara whined, "sometimes it's, I don't know, easier to just not love and lose, you know? I mean, the last time I opened up to a guy, tried to have a relationship, he was using me to cheat on his girlfriend."
// Hank. // Warrick recalled instantly, // The bastard, broke Sara's heart and her trust. // His vindictive thoughts were cut short by Mrs. Sidle's words of motherly wisdom.
"Sugar baby," she said gently, "Hank was a rotten apple in a huge basket of apples. You pluck them out first and you're left with all the good apples. Your Warrick is one of those good apples."
"Really?" Sara asked in a small insecure voice that he never heard her use ever before.
"Really," Mrs. Sidle repeated with conviction. "Now, since I know that you made it home safely, I'm going to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, okay, baby?"
"Okay," Sara echoed in the same small voice.
Warrick was rooted to the spot and didn't even try to get out of Sara's mother's way as she walked out of the living room. She smiled, lay a parental hand on his shoulder, and said, very quietly, "Warrick, be good to my baby, okay?" without breaking stride. He nodded at her request.
Sara was curled up on the couch wearing her old Harvard sweatshirt and what appeared to be yoga leggings. He figured that sometime in her conversation with her mother she had changed. "Hey Sar," Warrick said quietly. When she acknowledged his presence with a smile and a beckoning to sit beside her, he continued, "I heard part of your conversation with your mother."
She got the cornered animal look in her eye again. "Which part?" she asked nervously.
"The last part," Warrick admitted. He half expected her to burst into tears or run out of the room. Instead she just stared at him for a few seconds.
"Oh. Um, well, you see, my mom has this tendency to pry, so I usually make up stories so that she'll get off my case. Sorry if I involved you in my little conspiracy. Uh . . ." Judging from her babbling, Sara was trying to lie.
"Sara, Sara," Warrick said, raising a hand to try and calm her down. "You don't have to explain. I get it. But it's too bad that what you said wasn't true."
Sara stared blankly at him for a good half a minute, before she said, "Are you . . ." and couldn't finish her thought.
"Have you ever taken risks, Sara?" Warrick asked. She shrugged. He continued, "You, know, right after you came and investigated me, I stopped placing bets. The only time I was in a casino was when there was a crime scene. But you know what? There's still this gambler in me that wants to take a gamble right now. 'Cause I know you Sara. I know it's impossible for you to lie. I know that you weren't making up a story to get your mother off your back." Sara looked down, suddenly fascinated by the couch fabric's patterns. Warrick reached out and pulled her chin up, so that they were looking each other in the eye. "The feeling, it's mutual." He told her simply. He sighed. "Sara, god, I love you so much."
"You . . . you . . ." Sara couldn't get any more words out, instead, she just leaned in for a long, slow kiss that left her lips tingling and on fire. They spent the rest of the night talking, only interrupting the flow of words with a lingering kiss or touch.
The sun was just making its glorious ascent into the sky, when she finally was able to form the words that had been running through her heart the entire night. "I love you too, Warrick."
*******************************************************
Please review! (and no flames about my shippage choices please!)
It was the early hours of the morning by the time they got back to Sara's house. Seeing as Maddie had preschool the next day and the elder Sidles and Andrews were planning to hit the casinos on their last day in Vegas, they figured that they could sleep during the day to get them ready for their night shift.
"Hey," Sara said suddenly ask they walked in the door in to the darkened hallway, "I don't know about you, but I don't think I'm going to be sleeping tonight. Want to watch some old movies, maybe?"
"Depends on what movie we'd be watching," Warrick replied.
"I don't know, the digitally remastered version of 'The Wizard of Oz'?" Sara suggested jokingly.
"We're off to see the Wizard! The wonderful wizard of Oz!" Warrick sang softly in what sounded like a choked up falsetto. "You have that?"
"No." Sara didn't say anything more as she turned the corner. She stopped and walked back to where Warrick was standing. "But I do have 'Gone with the Wind'." She looked puzzled for a second before answering, "Or maybe it's at Catherine's house. Lindsay needed it for a project on the Civil War."
"So, in other words," Warrick summarized, "you actually don't know what movies you have in your house." He walked into the living room shaking his head. "I think we're going to have to get you out more Sidle."
"Yeah, people have been telling me that for the past ten years," Sara said with a touch of nostalgia. Suddenly remembering that they were still in their clothes from dinner, she continued, "I'm going to get changed okay? You can use the bathroom if you want."
"Why would I want to use the washroom? I don't think anybody'd watch me," Warrick asked in bewilderment.
"Well, if you don't mind doing a striptease for my mother," Sara huffed, "Be my guest." She pointed to the doorway where, sure enough, stood the Sidle matriarch, trying in vain to blend in with the woodwork.
"Point taken," Warrick muttered as he gathered up his sleeping clothes and headed for the bathroom.
As soon as she heard the click of the washroom door, Sara whirled around to confront her mother. "Where were you for dinner tonight?" she demanded.
"At 'Galatians'," he mother answered simply, "We figured you two wouldn't want to hang around a bunch of old fuddy-duddies like us."
"You set us up!" Sara hissed, her voice sliding into a higher register.
"No," Mrs. Sidle corrected with a slight condescending air, "you set yourselves up. All I did was allow nature to take its course."
"By falsely telling us that we were all going to have dinner at Galactica!" Sara stated.
"No, what I said was, 'I made reservations.' I never said anything about who was going. You just assumed that on your own, my dear." Mrs. Sidle retorted smugly.
"Arg! Mother!" Sara groaned as she gesticulated wildly, trying to convey her displeasure at her mother's ways.
"So, how was dinner?" her mother asked sweetly, trying to get a reaction.
Sara parried with a question of her own. "So why are you awake, mom?" she asked.
"I was waiting up for my baby, of course!" the older woman said. At Sara's incredulous look, she added, "What? Just because you're 33 doesn't mean you're still not my little girl. Come on, you used to tell me everything that happened in your day. Humour me?"
// Only my mother could guilt trip me enough to spill my guts, // Sara thought. "Okay," she said slowly, trying to think of what to say. "I do have to admit, the restaurant was great." Her mother nodded encouragingly. "And we talked about lots of stuff, and then we danced."
"How long?" Mrs. Sidle demanded with excitement.
"Were we dancing?" Sara asked. When her mother nodded, she thought back, trying to place a specific period of time on it. "Well, we started dancing at about 8:30, and we left when they had to close. So about two and a half hours?"
"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but it's nearly two in the morning. Where were you?" her mother asked gently.
"Oh! We went to this 24 hour coffee shop, and we talked some more after that." After having said that, Sara proceeded to tell her mother every detail of her evening out, as the maternal question period always made her do unwittingly.
Warrick spent a little more time than he had expected in the washroom. When he walked out, he heard Sara's voice drifting out from the living room, saying, "I don't know what to make of it mom, I think I'm falling for him." That statement certainly piqued his attention.
"Well, if this is the way you feel about Wilbur-"
"Warrick," Sara interrupted.
"Wilbur, Warrick, whatever," Mrs. Sidle continued, unfazed by the interruption, "then you should tell him. Don't you remember what I used to always tell you? 'Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all'?"
"Yeah, but mom," Sara whined, "sometimes it's, I don't know, easier to just not love and lose, you know? I mean, the last time I opened up to a guy, tried to have a relationship, he was using me to cheat on his girlfriend."
// Hank. // Warrick recalled instantly, // The bastard, broke Sara's heart and her trust. // His vindictive thoughts were cut short by Mrs. Sidle's words of motherly wisdom.
"Sugar baby," she said gently, "Hank was a rotten apple in a huge basket of apples. You pluck them out first and you're left with all the good apples. Your Warrick is one of those good apples."
"Really?" Sara asked in a small insecure voice that he never heard her use ever before.
"Really," Mrs. Sidle repeated with conviction. "Now, since I know that you made it home safely, I'm going to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, okay, baby?"
"Okay," Sara echoed in the same small voice.
Warrick was rooted to the spot and didn't even try to get out of Sara's mother's way as she walked out of the living room. She smiled, lay a parental hand on his shoulder, and said, very quietly, "Warrick, be good to my baby, okay?" without breaking stride. He nodded at her request.
Sara was curled up on the couch wearing her old Harvard sweatshirt and what appeared to be yoga leggings. He figured that sometime in her conversation with her mother she had changed. "Hey Sar," Warrick said quietly. When she acknowledged his presence with a smile and a beckoning to sit beside her, he continued, "I heard part of your conversation with your mother."
She got the cornered animal look in her eye again. "Which part?" she asked nervously.
"The last part," Warrick admitted. He half expected her to burst into tears or run out of the room. Instead she just stared at him for a few seconds.
"Oh. Um, well, you see, my mom has this tendency to pry, so I usually make up stories so that she'll get off my case. Sorry if I involved you in my little conspiracy. Uh . . ." Judging from her babbling, Sara was trying to lie.
"Sara, Sara," Warrick said, raising a hand to try and calm her down. "You don't have to explain. I get it. But it's too bad that what you said wasn't true."
Sara stared blankly at him for a good half a minute, before she said, "Are you . . ." and couldn't finish her thought.
"Have you ever taken risks, Sara?" Warrick asked. She shrugged. He continued, "You, know, right after you came and investigated me, I stopped placing bets. The only time I was in a casino was when there was a crime scene. But you know what? There's still this gambler in me that wants to take a gamble right now. 'Cause I know you Sara. I know it's impossible for you to lie. I know that you weren't making up a story to get your mother off your back." Sara looked down, suddenly fascinated by the couch fabric's patterns. Warrick reached out and pulled her chin up, so that they were looking each other in the eye. "The feeling, it's mutual." He told her simply. He sighed. "Sara, god, I love you so much."
"You . . . you . . ." Sara couldn't get any more words out, instead, she just leaned in for a long, slow kiss that left her lips tingling and on fire. They spent the rest of the night talking, only interrupting the flow of words with a lingering kiss or touch.
The sun was just making its glorious ascent into the sky, when she finally was able to form the words that had been running through her heart the entire night. "I love you too, Warrick."
*******************************************************
Please review! (and no flames about my shippage choices please!)