-- CHAPTER EIGHT: Mistress --
Disclaimers: Refer to Chapter One: Breathe
Author's Note: For your safety, as well as for my safety (but mostly my own), please rid your immediate vicinity with any sharp objects. Thank you, and read on.
~*~
- December 26 -
The plane was making its final decent, when the pilot made his final announcement. Nick was poised to prepare his luggage. He took the first flight out of San Francisco, the weather cloudy and his daughter shedding tears. He and Sara were on the worst terms; she barely even spoke to him on the drive to the airport, nor did she bid him farewell upon boarding the plane. In such circumstances, he too was upset, not so much at Sara but his job and the marriage he had with his job. He resented himself for leaving and was saddened by Jessie's disappointment.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~
Nick just arrived from the latest murder scene; it was the fifth in a string of murders already. At this point, the severity of the attacks was intensifying and as the primary, Nick had to be at the scene. He was working the case with Warrick and the new girl from New York, Mia. She specialized in material and element analysis, and was Sara's replacement upon switching to the day shift. It was the end of shift and before returning to the evidence, he just wanted to go home and take a shower, possibly even eat something.
- NICK'S POV –
"Hey Nick," she greeted.
"Hi Mia." I smiled, pouring myself a generous amount of coffee.
"Sorry about taking you away from your holidays," she said, apologetically. I cringed at the thought of what I left in San Francisco. Leaving Sara and Jessie, but this was important too, I couldn't let other children die, the madness had to stop. I walked around to take a seat on the sofa, putting my mug on the coffee table. She grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and moved to sit across from me; I watched her flip through the magazine while taking occasional sips of water.
"How did you end up working this case anyway?" I asked. The room's silence ever deafening and my words sounding sharp.
"I finished my case, and when we got the call, Warrick had some family business to take care of, so instead, you got me," she answered.
"It's Christmas," I said.
"Yeah, but my family's too far away, and too big to come visit me."
"Well, Merry Christmas," I replied. There was a long pause, but this time, she was the one to break the silence.
"So, you have family in San Francisco?" she asked, moving her fingers around the coffee mug's edge.
"Uh no, I'm from Texas, but my wife's from San Francisco," I admitted, flashing my gold wedding band.
"Oh, well, that's nice. Again, I'm really sorry about having to call you back," she said.
I smiled politely, sipping my coffee, although the line of questioning did make me quite uncomfortable. I grimaced at the repulsive taste of the coffee. "This is not Greg's brew," I chuckled.
"Why don't I make it up to you, breakfast maybe? Discuss the case," she offered, her smile was infectious as I considered her offer. "I'm hungry, and well, I have to eat out anyway."
"Well, breakfast can make me forgive and forget," I begin. "Sure, why not? Where are we going?" I asked, after thinking on it for a few moments.
Once more, she smiled widely, a smile that seemed to have faded from Sara's face.
~*~
This place was different from the diner we frequented; this was located almost on the other side of town, closer to her place, and it was a great pancake place located at the Green Valley Ranch. It looked warm and cozy, especially from the small corner booth where we sat.
"It's great that your wife understood your situation," she started, pouring heaps of ketchup on the plate of ham and cheese omelette.
"Understanding, sure. Forgiving, maybe not." I frowned. Likewise, I proceeded on pouring syrup on the stack on pancakes on my plate. Curious, I watched as the red tomato goo overwhelmed her plate. "If you just wanted ketchup for breakfast, we could have saved money and bought a bottle," I said, not sure why I was chuckling about something so... well, simple, I guess.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized, closing the ketchup bottle's lid. "I just like ketchup, I don't' know if it's just a New York thing, or me," she continued. I laughed at the guilty face she wore, her cheeks pink from embarrassment. I persisted on watching her eat; mesmerized.
"My wife, Sara, hates ketchup," I said out of nowhere, as I reached for the bottle. My hand brushed her warm hand lightly, and we look at each other, letting our contact linger.
"Sara Sidle, right." She blinked. I nodded, moving my hand away, my cheeks flushed.
It wasn't long before we finished our meals; we sat around for a little while, chatting mostly. I must say that I learned a lot about a different world, her world being much different from my own. We shared stories like old friends, and paid for our meals, laughing until we both reached our vehicles.
"Hey, I don't know about you, but I think those three cups of coffee were a little much. Want to come over and watch the special on Mayan civilizations, or walk or something?" she offered, with a slight glint in her eyes.
'I should really get home; Sara will probably call me soon. But, she can always reach me on my cell, besides, she is mad at me. What's the hurt in watching a television special?' I thought.
"Lead the way," I answered.
~*~
- One Month Later -
"Hey Greg, thanks for the favor, I really need those priority results, " she said, madly fiddling with her cell phone.
"Greg--" she looked up. There stood Greg, sitting in his desk while Nick and Mia stood side by side –- closely, too closely. The woman had red hair, a glowing tan, sparking blue eyes and luscious red lips. She wore a cute little ensemble, crisp cream pants paired with a low cut black top.
Sara's head started pounding, her heart beating faster, blood flowing at an accelerated pace. She glared at her husband, who stood stiff upon her inspection.
"Hi, I'm Sara – Nick's wife," she introduced, no longer interested in test results.
The room fell silent. Tension was building, overwhelming the room.
"I'm Mia Harlot. Nice to meet you," she introduced in turn, her Brooklyn accent a little stronger.
"You must be new, I've never seen you around," Sara said, trying to be casual and failing. Her tone started to sound cold and defensive... jealous. Despite all the trust she had in Nick, she was fully aware that both of them probably spent more time together than she and Nick.
"I got transferred here about a month ago from New York," Mia answered, eyes fixed on Sara's.
"Oh, so you must have been here for that serial case, around Christmas?" Sara asked.
The young woman swallowed hard. "Oh, yeah really tough case. Thank God your husband was able to come in. He was just instrumental in helping me with the case."
"I bet," Sara replied bitterly. "I'll see you around." She turned, biting her lip, hoping that no one noticed.
"Greg?" she asked. The frightened man stood up and handed Sara the printout and carefully backed away, baffled by what he just witnessed. She paused to look at the cowering man; her head ached as the sweet smell of peaches flooded her senses.
"You should keep your lab properly ventilated," she barked, grabbing the paper out of the tech's hand, and storming out of the room.
"Sara--" Nick protested, reaching out for her arm. But she brushed off his attempt, squirming away at his close proximity.
~*~
"I'll see you tomorrow," Nick whispered while he kissed the red haired woman who sat next to him. "Mia, thanks for helping me out."
He grinned as he watched the sedan drive out of the parking lot and onto the busy road.
"Hey Nick, have you seen Mia? She forgot to sign some papers," Grissom asked over his shoulder.
"Uh, um, no," Nick lied.
"Uh, you smell, like…peaches? Anyway, how's your case going?"
"Uh, just finished processing the case about a dead showgirl in her dressing room out in Henderson," he fibbed. "And, I grabbed myself some breakfast at the pancake house; I have a load of paperwork to file."
"Okay, just don't work too hard," Grissom smiled. "Go home, to your beautiful wife and your beautiful daughter. You and Mia have been working hard. Take the night off, I'll get someone from days to cover," he added over his shoulder, as he walked away.
"Thanks. But, speak for yourself," Nick called back.
"I have the night off." Grissom grinned, turning around to face Nick, walking backwards.
Nick paused before opening the lab's doors. "You're taking a night off? Where are you going?"
"Lindsey's dance recital; she's practicing for Julliard," Grissom answered proudly. "Go home, Nick!"
Nick muttered, "Yeah, yeah. I'm almost done."
~*~
He drove up to his house, sighting the other Tahoe that sat in the driveway. His mind wondered why his wife was home, for it surely wasn't her day off. In fact, he was sure that she was on call. He put the vehicle into park and quickly jumped out of the truck. He slowly walked towards the end of the driveway and gathered their mail. With envelopes in hand, he walked back towards the house and unlocked the door. As the door swung open, he looked up and saw his wife sitting on the staircase.
"You forgot." Her eyes were fixed on him, her voice was calm, but her tone was biting.
"Forgot what?" Nick asked, taking his sunglasses off. Sara remained silent, continuously staring at her husband.
"Jessica's field trip today, you were supposed to take her," she finally answered, sharply, as she furiously stomped towards the kitchen.
"Was that today?" Nick cringed as he followed Sara into the kitchen. Sara's growl confirmed that Jessie's field trip was indeed today. "I'll talk to her. I'm sorry," he apologized. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bottle of water. "I'm sorry that you had to take time off from work."
Sara continued to pile dishes into the dishwasher angrily, and barely even making eye contact. "Hot case?" she finally questioned.
"Yeah," he replied plainly and turned to walk down the hall.
"You better take a shower first. You really picked up a lot of shitty smells from work." Sara suggested. "Hey Nick!" she called to him, forcing Nick to turn. "I never knew you liked smelling like peaches," she said cynically.
"Sara-" Nick began, but knowing that this would turn into a harsh argument, he turned to walk up the stairs.
"What? Sara what?!" Sara asked angrily.
"I don't want to talk about this," he simply replied.
"Maybe we should talk about it, especially since it involves me and Jessica. I think we've let this sleep for a while," Sara answered, walking furiously towards the stairs. Nick continued to walk up the stairs, still silent. "Where did you take your whore this time? Where did you take Mia, some cheap motel off the Strip? Huh, Nick?!"
"Sara, stop," Nick answered.
"Mommy!" Jessica's voice pleaded. She was in the backyard, playing in the tree house that Nick, Greg, and Warrick managed to put together.
"I think it's time we take a break away from 'this'," she continued. She then slowly walked down the stairs and when she reached the bottom of the staircase, she gave Nick's still figure a final glance.
*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*
Disclaimers: Refer to Chapter One: Breathe
Author's Note: For your safety, as well as for my safety (but mostly my own), please rid your immediate vicinity with any sharp objects. Thank you, and read on.
~*~
- December 26 -
The plane was making its final decent, when the pilot made his final announcement. Nick was poised to prepare his luggage. He took the first flight out of San Francisco, the weather cloudy and his daughter shedding tears. He and Sara were on the worst terms; she barely even spoke to him on the drive to the airport, nor did she bid him farewell upon boarding the plane. In such circumstances, he too was upset, not so much at Sara but his job and the marriage he had with his job. He resented himself for leaving and was saddened by Jessie's disappointment.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~
Nick just arrived from the latest murder scene; it was the fifth in a string of murders already. At this point, the severity of the attacks was intensifying and as the primary, Nick had to be at the scene. He was working the case with Warrick and the new girl from New York, Mia. She specialized in material and element analysis, and was Sara's replacement upon switching to the day shift. It was the end of shift and before returning to the evidence, he just wanted to go home and take a shower, possibly even eat something.
- NICK'S POV –
"Hey Nick," she greeted.
"Hi Mia." I smiled, pouring myself a generous amount of coffee.
"Sorry about taking you away from your holidays," she said, apologetically. I cringed at the thought of what I left in San Francisco. Leaving Sara and Jessie, but this was important too, I couldn't let other children die, the madness had to stop. I walked around to take a seat on the sofa, putting my mug on the coffee table. She grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and moved to sit across from me; I watched her flip through the magazine while taking occasional sips of water.
"How did you end up working this case anyway?" I asked. The room's silence ever deafening and my words sounding sharp.
"I finished my case, and when we got the call, Warrick had some family business to take care of, so instead, you got me," she answered.
"It's Christmas," I said.
"Yeah, but my family's too far away, and too big to come visit me."
"Well, Merry Christmas," I replied. There was a long pause, but this time, she was the one to break the silence.
"So, you have family in San Francisco?" she asked, moving her fingers around the coffee mug's edge.
"Uh no, I'm from Texas, but my wife's from San Francisco," I admitted, flashing my gold wedding band.
"Oh, well, that's nice. Again, I'm really sorry about having to call you back," she said.
I smiled politely, sipping my coffee, although the line of questioning did make me quite uncomfortable. I grimaced at the repulsive taste of the coffee. "This is not Greg's brew," I chuckled.
"Why don't I make it up to you, breakfast maybe? Discuss the case," she offered, her smile was infectious as I considered her offer. "I'm hungry, and well, I have to eat out anyway."
"Well, breakfast can make me forgive and forget," I begin. "Sure, why not? Where are we going?" I asked, after thinking on it for a few moments.
Once more, she smiled widely, a smile that seemed to have faded from Sara's face.
~*~
This place was different from the diner we frequented; this was located almost on the other side of town, closer to her place, and it was a great pancake place located at the Green Valley Ranch. It looked warm and cozy, especially from the small corner booth where we sat.
"It's great that your wife understood your situation," she started, pouring heaps of ketchup on the plate of ham and cheese omelette.
"Understanding, sure. Forgiving, maybe not." I frowned. Likewise, I proceeded on pouring syrup on the stack on pancakes on my plate. Curious, I watched as the red tomato goo overwhelmed her plate. "If you just wanted ketchup for breakfast, we could have saved money and bought a bottle," I said, not sure why I was chuckling about something so... well, simple, I guess.
"Oh, sorry," she apologized, closing the ketchup bottle's lid. "I just like ketchup, I don't' know if it's just a New York thing, or me," she continued. I laughed at the guilty face she wore, her cheeks pink from embarrassment. I persisted on watching her eat; mesmerized.
"My wife, Sara, hates ketchup," I said out of nowhere, as I reached for the bottle. My hand brushed her warm hand lightly, and we look at each other, letting our contact linger.
"Sara Sidle, right." She blinked. I nodded, moving my hand away, my cheeks flushed.
It wasn't long before we finished our meals; we sat around for a little while, chatting mostly. I must say that I learned a lot about a different world, her world being much different from my own. We shared stories like old friends, and paid for our meals, laughing until we both reached our vehicles.
"Hey, I don't know about you, but I think those three cups of coffee were a little much. Want to come over and watch the special on Mayan civilizations, or walk or something?" she offered, with a slight glint in her eyes.
'I should really get home; Sara will probably call me soon. But, she can always reach me on my cell, besides, she is mad at me. What's the hurt in watching a television special?' I thought.
"Lead the way," I answered.
~*~
- One Month Later -
"Hey Greg, thanks for the favor, I really need those priority results, " she said, madly fiddling with her cell phone.
"Greg--" she looked up. There stood Greg, sitting in his desk while Nick and Mia stood side by side –- closely, too closely. The woman had red hair, a glowing tan, sparking blue eyes and luscious red lips. She wore a cute little ensemble, crisp cream pants paired with a low cut black top.
Sara's head started pounding, her heart beating faster, blood flowing at an accelerated pace. She glared at her husband, who stood stiff upon her inspection.
"Hi, I'm Sara – Nick's wife," she introduced, no longer interested in test results.
The room fell silent. Tension was building, overwhelming the room.
"I'm Mia Harlot. Nice to meet you," she introduced in turn, her Brooklyn accent a little stronger.
"You must be new, I've never seen you around," Sara said, trying to be casual and failing. Her tone started to sound cold and defensive... jealous. Despite all the trust she had in Nick, she was fully aware that both of them probably spent more time together than she and Nick.
"I got transferred here about a month ago from New York," Mia answered, eyes fixed on Sara's.
"Oh, so you must have been here for that serial case, around Christmas?" Sara asked.
The young woman swallowed hard. "Oh, yeah really tough case. Thank God your husband was able to come in. He was just instrumental in helping me with the case."
"I bet," Sara replied bitterly. "I'll see you around." She turned, biting her lip, hoping that no one noticed.
"Greg?" she asked. The frightened man stood up and handed Sara the printout and carefully backed away, baffled by what he just witnessed. She paused to look at the cowering man; her head ached as the sweet smell of peaches flooded her senses.
"You should keep your lab properly ventilated," she barked, grabbing the paper out of the tech's hand, and storming out of the room.
"Sara--" Nick protested, reaching out for her arm. But she brushed off his attempt, squirming away at his close proximity.
~*~
"I'll see you tomorrow," Nick whispered while he kissed the red haired woman who sat next to him. "Mia, thanks for helping me out."
He grinned as he watched the sedan drive out of the parking lot and onto the busy road.
"Hey Nick, have you seen Mia? She forgot to sign some papers," Grissom asked over his shoulder.
"Uh, um, no," Nick lied.
"Uh, you smell, like…peaches? Anyway, how's your case going?"
"Uh, just finished processing the case about a dead showgirl in her dressing room out in Henderson," he fibbed. "And, I grabbed myself some breakfast at the pancake house; I have a load of paperwork to file."
"Okay, just don't work too hard," Grissom smiled. "Go home, to your beautiful wife and your beautiful daughter. You and Mia have been working hard. Take the night off, I'll get someone from days to cover," he added over his shoulder, as he walked away.
"Thanks. But, speak for yourself," Nick called back.
"I have the night off." Grissom grinned, turning around to face Nick, walking backwards.
Nick paused before opening the lab's doors. "You're taking a night off? Where are you going?"
"Lindsey's dance recital; she's practicing for Julliard," Grissom answered proudly. "Go home, Nick!"
Nick muttered, "Yeah, yeah. I'm almost done."
~*~
He drove up to his house, sighting the other Tahoe that sat in the driveway. His mind wondered why his wife was home, for it surely wasn't her day off. In fact, he was sure that she was on call. He put the vehicle into park and quickly jumped out of the truck. He slowly walked towards the end of the driveway and gathered their mail. With envelopes in hand, he walked back towards the house and unlocked the door. As the door swung open, he looked up and saw his wife sitting on the staircase.
"You forgot." Her eyes were fixed on him, her voice was calm, but her tone was biting.
"Forgot what?" Nick asked, taking his sunglasses off. Sara remained silent, continuously staring at her husband.
"Jessica's field trip today, you were supposed to take her," she finally answered, sharply, as she furiously stomped towards the kitchen.
"Was that today?" Nick cringed as he followed Sara into the kitchen. Sara's growl confirmed that Jessie's field trip was indeed today. "I'll talk to her. I'm sorry," he apologized. He pulled open the fridge and took out a bottle of water. "I'm sorry that you had to take time off from work."
Sara continued to pile dishes into the dishwasher angrily, and barely even making eye contact. "Hot case?" she finally questioned.
"Yeah," he replied plainly and turned to walk down the hall.
"You better take a shower first. You really picked up a lot of shitty smells from work." Sara suggested. "Hey Nick!" she called to him, forcing Nick to turn. "I never knew you liked smelling like peaches," she said cynically.
"Sara-" Nick began, but knowing that this would turn into a harsh argument, he turned to walk up the stairs.
"What? Sara what?!" Sara asked angrily.
"I don't want to talk about this," he simply replied.
"Maybe we should talk about it, especially since it involves me and Jessica. I think we've let this sleep for a while," Sara answered, walking furiously towards the stairs. Nick continued to walk up the stairs, still silent. "Where did you take your whore this time? Where did you take Mia, some cheap motel off the Strip? Huh, Nick?!"
"Sara, stop," Nick answered.
"Mommy!" Jessica's voice pleaded. She was in the backyard, playing in the tree house that Nick, Greg, and Warrick managed to put together.
"I think it's time we take a break away from 'this'," she continued. She then slowly walked down the stairs and when she reached the bottom of the staircase, she gave Nick's still figure a final glance.
*--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------*
