Disclaimer: Same ol', same ol'.
Author's Note:
Well, get ready. It's time for a little bit of angst. Those of you who
enjoy the fluff, don't worry, it'll be back in a few chapters. Since life's
a little bit of everything, I'm trying hard not to label the story. Not
that I assume my story resembles life itself perfectly, 'cause it's a TV
show we're talking about... *grins sheepishly* which doesn't mean CSI is
not accurate or realistic as far as TV shows go (see, I'm babbling now).
I better shut up.
(I'm surprised you're still
reading after all the nonsense above)
Thanks for the reviews, u
guys! I feel overwhelmed:)
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Chapter 3: Ungood
Catherine sat quietly in the break room, waiting to be paged by Greg. Sara hadn't returned from the crime scene yet, still looking for pieces of evidence they might have missed. She didn't mind the extra work.
They had already processed the place and returned with the sample the DNA lab tech was currently working on. Even Grissom had decided to spend his time in something a little more productive, filing more and more reports in his office.
But Sara could be so stubborn when she wanted to.
She sighed and smiled. As opposed as their personalities were, sometimes she couldn't help but see a lot of someone she once had been, in her young colleague.
From afar a murmur echoed through the hall, making her wonder if she should investigate its origin, but the following sounds of what could be a fight made the decision for her.
It wasn't hard to find ground zero, a few coworkers - distracted from their tasks just they way she had been - had already started to gather around the interrogation room.
The door opened with a loud bang and she barely saw a dark-haired man sent flying to the opposite wall.
Nick.
He practically bounced back from the wall, leaping towards the door. A very agitated Warrick tried to prevent him from entering into the room again.
She could barely make out what was being said between them. It was all shouts and ragged breaths. Sara was standing at the other end of the hall, just as bewildered as the rest of them.
And even with spectators, Nick's anger didn't seem to diminish. The struggling continued until his partner finally used his advantage in height to slam him against the wall one last time and punch him hard in the stomach.
With the wind knocked out of him, he collapsed to him knees gasping for air, but never stopping the unsuccessful attempts at getting back on his feet.
That was the precise time when Grissom decided to dig his way out of his office and start dispersing the crowd.
"OK, people, there's work to be done. Nothing to see. Come on, we don't have forever," He called while making his way towards Warrick. "You too Cath. I'll find you later."
She nodded, understandingly. The Texan had stood up a little more calmly, but the odd glint in his eyes made his face a grim spectacle.
"What the hell happened here?" She heard their boss ask.
"Nick tried to practice his boxing technique with that scumbag over there," He pointed to the now closed door where Brass was babysitting the suspect. The tone in his voice revealed how much he wished they could get rid of that kind of people.
He just shook his head sadly and walked into one of the labs dragging Sara with him, leaving their boss and their friend alone.
"Can you give him a ride, Sar? He's in no condition to drive and I have to wrap up the case here."
"Of course," She cringed at the shouts coming from the hall. Their coworker remained silent, though, impotence making him unable to voice his thoughts or reasons. There were no acceptable excuses anyway.
Both came out after the yelling had stopped to find - as expected - Grissom standing there by himself. Her partner went back to the suspect of the case he was working on with Nick.
"I didn't find anything." She simply stated. The frown on his face worried her. "I'll take him home. The shift's almost over"
He hinted a faded smile and not for the first time she wondered what was it exactly that made her feel so shy around him.
"Tell him to take tonight off. Tomorrow I expect to see him in my office, but he shouldn't be expecting to work."
"OK," She whispered. The look in her eyes was expectant, waiting for something to happen, a signal, something, anything. Just like always.
"You're going to miss him!" He hurried her. She obliged, disappointed. After all she had more important things to do.
"Sara"
"Yes?" She turned promptly.
"Drive safe" He smiled. And she returned the gesture.
**************
The ride - like every ride that involved them lately, she noticed - had been pretty silent. He got out of the Tahoe carelessly and entered to his place the same way, leaving the door opened behind him, for her to close gently.
She had planned on leaving after seeing him safely home, but the tightness of his clenched jaw had changed her mind.
She watched him pace like a caged animal for a couple of minutes, not sure about taking a seat and offering her listening services. He did a pretty good job at ignoring her while he went to the kitchen.
Then, glass in hand, he proceeded to look for the bottle of scotch he was planning on drink from. Sara watched him frantically move losing his temper more and more with each step to end up smashing the glass against the wall.
The sound of it made her jump like a scared cat, but he didn't seem to notice. He just sat on the couch, frustrated, with his hands covering his face.
Other women would have easily freaked out at his outburst, but she had learned long ago that there were certain times when sadness could be mistaken for anger.
So she calmly took her place beside him, waiting until he felt like sharing what was going on inside him.
Silences had stopped being awkward between them.
"The bastard got away," He finally said. His slumped shoulders resembled little of the man she used to go to for comfort. But there was something about this newfound vulnerability that she felt reassuring nonetheless.
"He is guilty, but the evidence is not conclusive." He elaborated bitterly.
She sighed and took one of his hands in her own, caressing its back with her thumbs. The movement made him turn to face her, and she captured his lips in one soft kiss.
Nick smiled slightly and rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closed. She could sense him relaxing slowly.
"Come on," She said a few minutes later, standing up with his hand still entwined with hers. He subsided to her request tiredly.
"Not tonight Sara," He started, trying hard not to hurt her feelings "I'm not in the mood."
"I know," She whispered with a smile on her lips, dragging him to his bed, where she held him for the rest of the night.
**************
"Well, that T-shirt definitely looks better on you than it looks on me," He said giving her an appreciative look. She just smiled at his change of mood and sat back on the bed.
But in the split second it had taken her to walk the distance from the bathroom, his features had grown somber again.
"Look, Sar, I want to apologize. I acted like a self-centered jerk before."
She resumed her place beside him leaning her head gently on his chest, and he hugged her. He always felt better like this, holding her as if he could protect her from everything.
"You have to work on that temper of yours," She stated, relying on the feeling of his hand stroking her hair. He chuckled.
"Sometimes I wish I could be a little more like Griss. Nothing seems to touch him." He said absently.
"Come on Nick. You're the sunniest, brightest human being I know. Everything's personal for you. I love that."
"I don't know."
"Really! You were passionate about a case in a way other than scientific for a change. I welcome that."
"Passionate? You were the one who pulled a gun on a suspect, remember?"
"I wasn't being passionate, I was suicidal." He chuckled again. She had a way with him...
"Plus, you *welcome* that? What is that supposed to mean?"
Sara shifted from her position to be able to meet his eyes as she spoke.
"I have this theory about Crime Scene Investigation." The expression of her face was sheepish. He smiled.
"I'm all ears."
The look in her eyes became blank for a second.
"Sometimes I think that somewhere in the process of becoming a real CSI we've been stripped of the faculty to believe, to hope. We've seen so much that we are forced to become numb to the wonders that the world has to offer."
He smiled encouragingly, but she was already lost in her own train of reasoning.
"I don't want to become that person, Nick. I don't want that. I want to smell the flowers and not think about pollen, bacteria, vegetable DNA and pieces of evidence. I want to remember why everybody loves children."
Her head back on his chest, her ear had instinctively found the spot above his heart and the sound of its beating had a rather soothing effect on her.
"I want to remember that love is not all about getting hurt."
She snuggled closer and held on to him for dear life, for at the moment he was all she had and both knew it.
~ END OF CHAPTER THREE.
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Written by Mary S. Chapter
4 is coming SOON. I promise.
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