Where the Grass is Greener

Chapter Eleven

Warrick was startled out of his sleep by Sara's coughing. She sat up and grabbed for her water, but the cup was empty. She groaned as she covered her mouth.

"Sweetie are you okay?" He asked as he sat up and turned on the lamp.

She nodded as she was coughing, and he just gave her a look. The woman would rather die than admit that she wasn't okay. That was one thing that annoyed him about her: she could never admit when there was something wrong with her. She coughing her lungs out, and she still proclaimed to be fine.

He rubbed her back as she tried catching her breath from all the coughing.

"Oh," she groaned miserably. "How much time do we have to sleep before work?"

"That's not going to make any difference to you because you're staying home," he said firmly.

"Warrick, I promise you there's nothing wrong with me," she said, getting up to go get more water.

Warrick knew better. "No," he said, pushing her gently back into the bed. "I'll go get you some more water, you need to rest. You have the flu."

"Warrick don't be so fatalistic," she said as she coughed again.

Warrick did not want to argue with her, so to quiet her, he pulled the covers over her. He felt her forehead.

"You're burning up," he said. "Don't move a muscle."

She just glared at him. He wasn't going to give into her so easily this time. Sometimes it was hard to mean what he said around her when she started giving him her looks, but tonight was a different story. She was sick, and he needed and wanted to take care of her. He wanted to show her that he would be devoted to her no matter what happened.

He went into the cow infested kitchen. He never realized how much he hated those cows until he actually got into the kitchen. He hated the cows with a passion. Another thing that he found odd about her collection was the fact that she was a vegetarian. She collected sources of an Angus burger, but would refuse to eat one. Warrick shook his head.

He grabbed a cup and filled it with cold water. He made sure to grab the thermometer from the medicine cabinet as well.

Sara was half asleep, the covers kicked off of her. Probably because her fever was breaking.

"Sara, wake up for a second," he said softly. "Let me take your temperature."

Sara was anything but happy. "Warrick, you don't have to do this, I'm fine," she said. "In a few hours' time, I'll be okay for work."

"Babe, let me take care of you," he said. "You're sick. Open."

She scowled at him stubbornly.

"Sara, stop it," he said. "It's not going to work this time."

She slowly opened her mouth and Warrick put the thermometer in. She narrowed her eyes in little slits as she held the thermometer in place. Warrick wasn't fazed. He just got up and went into the bathroom and picked up a washcloth. He soaked it with some cool water then he reentered their bedroom. Sara was leaning against the headboard, her arms crossed in frustration. For a grown, thirty-three year old woman, Sara could act like a four year old having a tantrum. She had major conniptions over everything, and it drove him insane, but he loved her anyway; keeping in mind that she was that way before they got engaged.

After about five minutes, he took the thermometer out of her mouth and read it.

"Your temp is one-hundred and two point five," he said. "You are definitely not going anywhere."

Sara groaned and fell back against the pillows.

"You know how much of a brat you can be sometimes?" He chuckled.

"What about my parents?" She asked. "I can't be sick like this all week."

"I'll pick them up at the airport tomorrow morning, and if you're not better over the next few days, I'll take your parents around," he offered. "They'll understand if you're sick."

"Why do I have to be sick on the most crucial week of my life?" She groaned.

Warrick leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. "Get some rest."

***

When Warrick got home earlier that morning, Sara was not doing well. Her highest temp was one-hundred and three, and she had chills. He pressed a warm washcloth to her head. She had bad strain of the flu.

"Don't let my parents stay here," she said. "They might catch what I have."

Warrick dabbed at her forehead with a washcloth. She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

"Well, according to what I heard," he started, moving the cloth down her arms. "It started with Lindsay, who gave it to Cath, who gave it to Nick, now you. She told me that it's been down played to the flu. Lindsay had the stomach flu."

Sara nodded at this information.

"So," she started. "Was everyone shocked that I actually stayed home?"

Warrick shrugged as he wiped her sweaty face. "More or less."

She looked at him. "They don't want me back, do they?"

Warrick sighed. He really did not want to discuss the issue with her at the moment. It wasn't a fact of wanting her back or not, it was just out of concern for her future health. Warrick explained to Grissom that her break down wasn't job-related. He had a hard time believing that, but he did finally accept the possibility that may have been true. Sara had been handling herself pretty well at work…after hours was a different story.

"Sara, they're only concerned for your health, that's all," he said.

"Can't they see that I'm okay?" Sara said. "I have you now. I'm with you. You've made my life so much better, you know that? You give me a reason to want to face the day, you give me something to look forward to."

Warrick nodded as he ran the towel over her legs. She was soaked in sweat and she began to shiver. Warrick felt her forehead. She was blazing, but she had chills. He lay her down gently on the bed then he covered her.

"Get some rest sweetie," he said. "Call me if you feel any worse okay?"

Sara nodded weakly.

Warrick's heart was consumed by worry as he drove to the airport. He had never seen Sara that sick before. He hoped that it wasn't anything more serious than the flu. The flu usually lasted for about a week and then it went away. Sara had full blown flu: coughing, stuffy nose, high fever, chills, body aches, sore throat, headaches. The symptoms got worse over the weeks and neither of them really noticed until it was as bad as it was now. Sara hated to be sick.

Warrick was also worried about what her parents would think of him. He was worried that they would disapprove of their relationship. She had not seen her parents in years, and it was no doubt going to be an emotional roller coaster. Between Sara's bitterness towards them, and their grudge, Warrick was right in the middle. He realized he'd have to play peacemaker between them. With Sara being sick and confined to their apartment, he would have to take her parents around the city. He wasn't going to let Sara go anywhere even if she scowled at him.

He pulled into the parking lot and paid the teller for an hour.

The terminal was busy, and Warrick was on the look out for Mr. and Mrs. Sidle. He took out the picture of Sara's parents and looked at it closely, remembering their faces. His cell phone rang, and he answered it.

"Hey girl," he said, still looking around for the Sidles. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," she groaned. "Are you at the airport?"

"Yeah, I think I see your parents," he said as he walked a bit, inspecting the picture one more time. "Hey, I'll call you back when we're on our way back home okay? I love you."

"I love you too," she said, then she sneezed. "Sorry. Love you, bye."

"Bye sweetie," he said, then he hung up.

Victor and Diana Sidle approached him with frazzled looks on their faces.

"Are you Warrick Brown?" Victor asked in a light Italian accent.

"Yes," Warrick answered, offering a handshake. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Sidle. And you too, Mrs. Sidle."

Victor shook his hand firmly, and then he took his wife's hand and led her past him, not saying anything more to Warrick. Already, this was not going well. Warrick followed them to baggage claim and they quickly picked up their bags and they were ready to go.

On the way back to the apartment, Warrick called Sara again.

"Hey Sara," he said, avoiding calling her a pet name in fear of her parents' reaction. "We're on our way."

"Okay," she said. "I tried making something of a dinner, but I was too tired."

"Sara, you need to relax," he said firmly. "Are you in bed right now?"

"Umm…yeah," she said.

"Liar," he chuckled. "Go to bed."

"Okay, mwah," she said over the phone. "Love you."

"I love you too," he said. "Bye."

"Bye," she said, then he hung up.

There was an uneasy silence in the car. Warrick concentrated on driving, avoiding Victor Sidle's gaze. Mrs. Sidle stayed emotionless, to follow through on her husband's demand. Victor Sidle was a little shorter than Warrick. He seemed to always walk with a scowl on his face. He now knew where Sara got her scowl from. He was bald, quite odd for an Italian, and his skin was tanned. Mrs. Sidle was beautiful for a woman her age. She had her hair fixed in a tight bun, and she gave her daughter her looks and her auburn hair.

When they arrived at his apartment, he opened the door for Mrs. Sidle, and she smiled her gratefulness.

Victor took her hand and led her inside, leaving Warrick to carry in their bags. Frank, the doorman, helped him.

"Thanks Frank," Warrick said. "I owe you one."

"How 'bout we shoot some hoops on Saturday and we'll call it even?" He offered.

"Deal," Warrick said. "I was running out of ten dollar bills."

***

Sara tried to make herself look presentable for her parents. She was in a deplorable condition right now, but she did the best with her appearance. She put on a pair of jeans and one of Warrick's tee shirts. It would figure that she grabbed the one she really hated.

She made her hair look somewhat presentable, and she put on a little make up. She had to show her parents what nearly nine years of school yielded. Her father didn't think it was worth it sending his daughter off to college. He figured that she was smart enough. He wanted her to get married and have children, then think about her life. Well, in a way she was doing that…in reverse order. She had gotten to where she wanted to be in her life, now it was time to settle down with the love of her life.

She heard Warrick come through the door, and that was her cue to get up out of bed and turn off the television in their bedroom. She walked down the hallway and met Warrick at the doorway, putting her parents' luggage down.

"Hey," she said, wiping her nose with a tissue that she had stuffed in her pocket.

"Hey babe," he said. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little," she said, helping him move her parents' luggage into the guest bedroom. "I think by either tomorrow or Wednesday, I should feel better."

'That's good," Warrick said.

She noticed that he was a bit nervous. "So," she whispered as they changed the sheets to the guest bed. One night they decided to christen the whole apartment. "What'd they say?"

"Nothing yet," he said. "I don't think your parents like me very much."

"We have to give them some time," she said. "My dad especially. He's still upset at me for choosing to go to college over getting married and punching out kids at the age of seventeen."

Warrick chuckled.

When they finished preparing her parents for their stay, they went out into the living room hand in hand.

"Mom, dad," she said with a bright smile, despite her tiredness. "This is Warrick Brown, my fiancé."

Her father sat there, emotionless, making Sara's smile fade, and she began to cry. Diana looked like she wanted to say something, but she was following her husband's example. Sara knew that Warrick was upset that they had made her cry, but she squeezed his hand, letting him know to calm down. Sara was having one of her crying fits again, and she was embarrassed by them.

She wiped her tears and walked to the bedroom and closed the door.

Why were her parents being so cruel? Why couldn't they just be happy for her? They didn't even show up for her graduation from Harvard. She was alone, and she had no support system. Now she was about to get married, and her parents wouldn't even give so much as a smile her way, showing that they at least cared. They didn't think she was serious, that's why.

She went over to her bedside table and picked up a catalogue for bridal gowns. She had a few picked out, and she planned on going to the shop later on with Catherine and some of Warrick's female cousins. She picked it up and went out to the living room.

"Here," she said, giving it to them. "I'm serious about this. Warrick and I are getting married. Very soon. I don't care whether you show up or not. You don't even have to pay for it, but just say something! Or at least look like you're happy for me!"

With that, Sara turned on her heel and went back to the bedroom. She collapsed on the bed crying hysterically.

***

Warrick had found a new breed of fear, and his situation with her parents was a bad one. He knew that Sara was trying to get over the flu, and would not want to spend any time with her parents, so he was stuck with them until Sunday afternoon.

Sara was having another one of her crying spells, which had been coming more often lately. She would just burst into tears and she usually took a whole day to get over her spell.

"Uh, Sara's trying to get over the flu," Warrick explained. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you," Victor said. "Sit down."

Warrick took the chair across from them. He was prepared to answer every question they had for him honestly.

"Do you love my daughter?" Victor asked.

"Yes, I do," he answered. "Very much."

"And you two are getting married?" Victor pushed.

"Yes sir," Warrick said.

"In the church?"

"Yes," Warrick answered. "Sir, I don't really know what this had to do with reconciling with you daughter. She's hurt, and she wanted to make things right before we walk down the aisle."

"Well, she hasn't even asked my approval…"

Warrick interrupted him. "Quite frankly sir," he started. "She's a grown woman. She's not seeking approval. And no offense sir, we're still getting married regardless. Whether you approve or not. All she wants is to be closer to you. She has spent the last three weeks planning this trip just for you so that she could spend time with you and be your daughter again."

Victor looked away. "I am not ashamed of my daughter," he said. "I just wanted her to make a life for herself."

"She has, sir," Warrick said. "If you could see her at her job…she's so dedicated, and passionate about it. She has made both a life and career for herself. She's a beautiful, intelligent woman and if you can't see that by now…"

Later on that night, Warrick could hear Sara's parent's going at it in the guest bedroom. Or, rather, her mother going at it.

"What did I tell you Victor? She's a free spirit. You kept her like a caged bird when she was a child. Now that she's free and grown, you can't accept that she's grown up! And you're still trying to run her life! She wants to marry that nice young man and you're not doing anything to stop that wedding. In fact, you're going to pay for it."

"What? Diana, you are being unreasonable!" Victor shouted.

"Oh, so now I'm unreasonable huh?" Diana drawled. "What is wrong with Sara marrying Warrick Brown?"

"Diana," Victor pleaded. "There's nothing wrong with it, it's just that he doesn't look like her type."

"You didn't look like my type, but I still married you!" Diana said sarcastically. "She's serious about this Victor! She loves him. She even has gowns picked out. You are going to march right up to her tomorrow and tell her that we are going to pay for this whole wedding, and I better not hear one complaint from you!"

"Yes my dear," Victor said warily.