I suppose I shouldn't have been all that surprised, but when I woke up, I was in a somewhat better mood, not that the case was off my mind, I think I was just more sleep deprived than I had thought. I glanced at the clock and realized that it was ten minutes to three. I swore under my breath and leaped out of bed, rushing towards the shower. I had just pulled my robe on after getting out of the shower, and was in the process of wrapping a towel around my hair when I heard a knock at the door. Leave it to Nick to be punctual.

"Just a minute!" I yelled it at the top of my lungs, hoping that he heard me. I headed to the front door, cracking it open slightly to reveal Nick standing there with a couple of bags in his hand. I must have had an odd expression on my face because he held them up to me at eye level.

"I brought food." He grinned at me and then something I couldn't quite identify flashed across his face and he glanced away from me as I opened the door to let him in.

I glanced down an realized that the fact I was wearing my robe probably made him a little uncomfortable. I chuckled inwardly that I Sara Sidle might actually have the power to make Nick Stokes uncomfortable simply by wearing a thick blue terry cloth robe with a moon and stars on it. I glanced back at him and he continued to avert his gaze from me. I almost laughed out loud. "I woke up late."

"I can see that." Nick glanced at me and then glanced away immediately.

"I'll just go get dressed." I replied with a hint of amusement in my voice.

"I'll be right here." Nick stated as he busied himself in my kitchen looking for utensils.

It took me longer to get ready than I had anticipated. I had managed to shower with the damn splint on by wrapping a plastic bag around my hand. I discovered, however, that I had suddenly become limited on my clothing choices because my hand simply wouldn't fit through the sleeves of several of my favorite shirts. By the time I emerged from my bedroom fully dressed, minus the towel on my head, I decided it wasn't worth the effort it would take one handed to style my hair. Curly it was, and curly it would stay.

Nick had put the food he brought out on a couple of plates and was sitting on the couch. He glanced up at me and grinned. "How did you sleep?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Well, when you pop pain pills, quite well."

He furrowed his brow slightly. "How does your hand feel?"

I gave my hand a studied glance for a moment. "It hurts. That's about as specific as I can get right now."

Nick gestured for me to join him. "Chinese food."

Suddenly, I was very hungry. I picked up a pair of chopsticks that Nick had thoughtfully pulled apart for me and began to devour the food he'd placed on my plate. I glanced over at him. "Thanks."

"No problem." He chuckled at me.

I raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "What's so funny?"

He raised his hand and shook his head. "Nothing. I just never expected Sara Sidle to own a robe like one of my sisters."

I think my cheeks must have flushed a little because they felt warm. "I could have made you wait outside."

"Yes, you could have." His tone was very matter of fact and I silently wondered if maybe I should have let him stay outside until I'd gotten dressed.

"What time is the husband coming in?" I needed to immerse myself in work mode and get off this topic of conversation while it was still safe.

"Grissom said he'd be in around four, which gives us about thirty minutes." Nick observed as he glanced at his watch.

A sudden panic hit me. "We need to get going." I put down my chopsticks and started to stand so I could clear the dishes.

Nick put his hand on my arm. "Sara, he has to ID the body before we can talk to him. We have some time. You need to eat."

Arguing with Nick Stokes about taking care of yourself is a losing proposition, so I sat back down and finished the food on my plate as quickly as I could. Regardless of what he'd said, I wanted to be there when the husband arrived. I needed to see his demeanor when he saw his wife's face. Those were things that spoke volumes about a relationship that no amount of interviewing could accurately reveal.

Nick picked up the plates and put them in my sink. He cleared the food and stowed the cartons in my fridge next to a few other take out cartons. As he took in the contents of my refrigerator, he glanced at me with concern. There was a time, that I'd decided I'd never eat take out again, that I needed to get out and connect with the world. Lately though, I'd been falling back into the habit of being a recluse. Nick's expression was loaded. Although he didn't say a word, I knew I was in for a conversation later.

I grabbed my jacket and we made our way to his Denali. Nick had the radio tuned to some annoying country station and I had to try not to laugh as he sang along. It wasn't that he didn't have a pleasant voice, I think it was because he didn't seem to realize he was singing.

We pulled into the parking lot and as we headed into the building and down the hall, I could see that Lieutenant Smith was already there. He looked every part the grieving husband and his face held the anguish of a man who'd learned that not only was his wife murdered, but she was carrying a child that wasn't his.