Title: Worth Every Mile
Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sara/Warrick
Spoilers: Everything up to Grissom versus the Volcano, just to be on the safe side.
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site Checkmate , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.
Summary: Warrick looks back on his relationship with Sara.
Notes: For the LiveJournal Writer's Choice "Love, Loyalty, Friendship" challenge – I got them all in there!
***
You're up eleven g's. Hit or stay?
Stay. I want to talk to you.
To say they didn't get along when first they met would be to understate the matter quite a bit. He was defensive, she was inquisitorial, and Holly Gribbs was dead. Her job, she said, was to investigate him, so it had hardly been the most auspicious of beginnings to their relationship.
Grissom gets you to dime yourself off and now you both feel better? You're supposed to be in court. Instead, you're placing bets for a cheap thrill to satisfy nothing.
Hey! This has nothing to do with you.
She didn't trust him for a long time, and just as things were beginning to get better, he blew off work to go to the Monaco. He had a good reason but Ecklie didn't know that, didn't waste any time telling Grissom, who had asked her to investigate him again. She didn't like what she found, but she didn't ask him about it, just filed her report and punished him, only to be chagrined when she found out the truth.
We're supposed to be working together. Next time, just try talking to me instead of going around behind my back.
Neither like remembering that, but he knows that that was a watershed in their relationship, that they never looked back. Not that they were friends immediately, but an understanding was reached, a trust had been formed, a certain brand of loyalty. They were colleagues, respectful of one another, enjoyed working together, looked out for one another.
We're a team. The only place we're going is back down to that crime scene."
They would tease one another.
Meet me behind CSI and bring a cotton nightgown. I'd wear it for you but I prefer pajamas.
This where the limbo party is?
They covered for one another.
I would've looked like an idiot. Thanks for covering.
Well, you can show your appreciation by, uh, cleaning up.
What began as collegial loyalty and banter grew into friendship, her confiding in him and him alone about her not-date with her not-boyfriend, a confidence he didn't realise was a confidence until it was too late. He apologised, and he never did it again, kept his mouth shut when she slipped and called said boyfriend "baby" at a crime scene, only teasing her about him when no-one else was around.
Your knucklehead boyfriend never took you on the party circuit?
They were friendly enough that he was sure their past was behind them, and when she confirmed as much to him, standing in a casino, looking at a bean counter, he was surprised to learn how much it meant.
You know, the more I see of this kind of stuff the less I picture you a gambler.
First loyal colleagues, then friends, but that's all they were for a long time. The change between them happened slowly, so slowly that neither noticed it, were taken by surprise when they did.
She loved my music. I loved her smile.
Those were words spoken by a victim's husband, and at the time, neither Warrick nor Sara had taken any particular notice of them, imbued them with any particular meaning. They were just words, that was all.
But that was the first time that she heard him play, the first time that she even realised that he could. It was nothing major, just fooling around, because he never could resist a piano, but she'd asked him about it on the way back to the lab, and he'd told her about how his Grams had made him learn, how she'd thought that it would teach him discipline. That had amused Sara hugely, had made her laugh, but she'd continued questioning him, and he'd admitted to her that he wrote music, had promised that one day, he'd let her hear some of it.
That day had come a few months later, when they were once more working a case together, and she suggested coming in early for the next shift. He had to tell her that he couldn't, that he'd promised a friend of his that he'd do a set at his club, and it was too late to cancel. He wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else but Sara, and it was only when he saw her eyes light up, saw a smile cross her face that he knew what the next words out of her mouth were going to be.
He couldn't talk her out of it, so he did the next best thing; got his buddy to secure her a table right beside the stage, because there was no way he was going to listen to her complaining, even good-naturedly, that she had a lousy seat. That also meant though, that when he looked down into the audience, her face, her smile, was the first thing that he saw.
That night, on their own in the lab, she told him that she loved his music.
That night, he didn't tell her that he loved her smile.
That came later, after he'd taken her out for breakfast to say thank you for the good review, when it had started becoming a regular occurrence. When breakfasts had turned to dinners, had turned to them spending almost all of their off time together, when they'd been the subject of lab gossip for weeks.
It took him two months for him to kiss her for the first time, then two days for them to spend their first night together.
Two days after that, he told her he loved her smile.
Two weeks after that, he told her he loved her.
That night, she told him she loved him too.
And now they are here, standing at the altar in front of their families and friends, promising each other love and loyalty and friendship until death do them part.
It's been a long road here, but it was worth every mile.
