Since when did goodbye mean forever?

By Ria

a.n thanks for the people who do review my stories everytime- you know who you are, and know that you inspire me to keep on writing W/S fic!

Warrick didn't like this silence. It was too quiet, too still. This was the 2nd best crime lab in the country, and the only case they had that night was a stupid B&E up on Mansion lane. Probably an insurance rip off. Gris had taken Greg over there for good behaviour, leaving the rest of them dealing with the quietness anyway they could. He supposed that they should be glad. No crimes, meant no people were dying unnecessarily, nobody was being attacked, hurt in unbelievable ways. Still, he didn't like this quiet.

He had escaped to a small office, the door shut, the lights on low to try and deter anyone, and especially Nick from coming in. Asking if he was ok. Getting that look on his face like he wanted to ask but didn't know how. The reason Warrick didn't want Nick here was that he asked the questions that Warrick couldn't answer, didn't particularly want to contemplate on how to answer.

He looked at the folder in front of him, reading notes he himself had penned a long time ago. A slow night reduced to reviewing cases long gone cold. It wasn't helping him forget the silence. Or the reason for his current funk. Especially when he turned over to the next page, saw familiar handwriting knocking him for six.

"I'm leaving" He shushed her voice inside of his head, her fact telling voice that had told him unemotionally that even after that night she was going.

Of course her handwriting would be in the folder. It was one of the many cases they had worked together. Back in the first year that she had come to Las Vegas, he remembered. Back when everything had been walking on eggshells between them, when he was still bitter that she had been brought into investigate him. When their personalities had sparked impressively off each other.

Their relationship had never lost that spark. It had just turned from sparks of anger, to another kind of emotion. The passion that they had never lost, just put to better use.

There had certainly been sparks flying that night.

"It didn't mean a thing." There were no sparks then, no lightning in her eyes, none of the usual fire and dance. Like she was reading from a script. Even he could see the lie.

He deliberately turned his attention to less emotive thoughts, staring at the evidence they had collected from the case. The lack of which had been the down full of the case. Warrick remembered it well. A husband shot his wife. They just couldn't prove it. The frustration of the case. The argument he had gotten in with Sara about it. Having to physically stop Sara running off to arrest the husband when they had not one shred of evidence except that he was an asshole and deserved to spend life in the state penitentiary. Unfortunately they couldn't arrest people for who they were.

"It wasn't meant to be." Why, why wasn't it meant to be? Why had she stood there, told him that, and then waited for him to call. Why had she lied to him?

He was just getting past the memories, the raw emotions still felt when he thought about her, to concentrate on an eye witness statement. Trying to read between the lines, connect it to the vague time line they had drawn up when his concentration was interrupted, the door opened without warning, Nick inviting himself in without asking.

Warrick suppressed a sigh, as Nick took a seat at the head of the table, looking at Warrick expectantly. 'We were just wondering if you'd somehow managed to sneak out.' Nick said when Warrick didn't say anything.

"It's easier this way." How? How had it been easier? Easier for her? Not having to face that night. Not having to face him. Or was she thinking of him, that it was easier for him? Because she was wrong. It hadn't been easy, nothing about her leaving had been easy.

'Is there a case?' Warrick asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Nick shook his head, not seeming to notice Warrick's disappointment. 'I can't believe how quiet it is here.' He said instead, settling back in his chair, taking a piece of paper from the case that Warrick had spread out on the table, glancing at it.

Whatever it was, didn't hold his attention too long. He was soon looking back at Warrick, studying him for something. 'How long are you gonna mope around for, avoid us?' he eventually asked.

'I'm not avoiding you.' Warrick said, immediately going on the defensive. He didn't want to have this conversation, with anyone. Unfortunately however hard he tried, he couldn't think of a good enough excuse to leave.

Just a little murder. That was all he wanted.

Nick's expression clearly didn't believe a word he had said. 'You've gone out of your way not to be anywhere near us.' Nick said in evidence.

Warrick couldn't exactly counter the argument. He had avoided them.

'Ever since Sara left.' Nick added, watching him closely for a reaction to the name. He got one. It was only a moment, a closing of the eyes, the quick blocking off of any emotion.

'It's been two weeks, man.' Nick started. 'Have you even tried to call her?'

'Isn't it pretty obvious she doesn't want me in her life.'

'How?'

'She was the one that left town!' Warrick said, his voice straining to stay under control, but the emotion that bubbled just under the surface was breaking free, expressing itself in anger.

'You never made any effort to get her to stay.' Nick pointed out.

'She'd already made up her mind. Even before that night.'

'She was hurt. Hurt and angry at the system. We've all been there. We all get over it. She just needed someone to give her a reason to stay.'

'So why didn't she just ask? Why did she tell me that she was leaving?'

'Because she wanted you to ask her to stay!' Nick answered, getting frustrated that his friend couldn't see it the way he saw it.

For a moment, silence reigned supreme once again, as Warrick reluctantly thought back to a night that wasn't meant to be, a night that had been a pure, exquisite mistake. One that he couldn't forget, couldn't quite put out of his mind. One that however long he tried to forget about it, it seemed to forever be there, lurking at the back of his mind. That however much he tried to tell himself it was a mistake that was best left in the past, he couldn't help wondering why it had felt so good. Why every memory he had of that night, he didn't want to forget.

'Do you regret that night?' Nick's voice was soft, searching.

Warrick hesitated, but not because he had to think about the answer. That was an immediate no, no thinking time required. He didn't regret that night, but he wouldn't mind never having to go through what happened afterward.

He shook his head. 'I don't regret it. I regret what happened afterward, but I don't regret what happened. How could I?' He stopped short, realising what he had just said.

Nick, however, had picked up on the rhetorical question. He had found out, from both Warrick and Sara what had happened that night. Well, as much as either would tell him, anyway. What he hadn't been able to work out was what had happened in the morning. Both said they didn't regret what happened that night. And yet, here they were, Warrick barely able to stay in the same room as the others, Sara off in another state altogether. 'Why did you leave then? If it was so good, why did you leave?' Nick asked the obvious question.

The one question that Warrick couldn't work out himself. Why had he left? Waking up in her arms, remembering every second of the previous night's activities almost as if they were a dream, because surely nothing that good could happen in real life. Not with Sara. Not with the woman who had been brought here to investigate him, who still questioned him, annoyed him, challenged him in a way no one else did. He'd untangled himself from her, leaving her peacefully sleeping, a small smile plain on her lips. Standing there, watching her for a moment, wondering, waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn't sure. For her to wake up, tell him, show him in someway that it wasn't a mistake? Show him that the night was meant to be a one off. Or maybe that she didn't want it to be just a one off.

She had stayed asleep. And he had walked out of her flat. Left her to her own life. Left that night in the past, gone on with his life.

It hadn't been part of his plan. Walking out like that. Then again, sleeping with Sara had never exactly been more than just a part time fantasy. He had thought it would be for the best, what she would want. How was he to know that the longing feeling he'd felt standing there and watching her in the twilight wouldn't leave, would, if anything grow worse. That when he thought of her leaving, the raw pain would shake him to the core. That, that one night would leave an imprint on his heart that he couldn't shake, couldn't forget however much he tried.

'Why didn't you go and see her?'

'She was leaving, Nick, she didn't want me to complicate that.'

'Yeah, that's why she told us all exactly when she was leaving, exactly when she'd be at her apartment till. Exactly what flight she was taking. Man, how dumb are you?' Nick asked, not so rhetorically it seemed as he looked at him, waiting for an answer.

Warrick shrugged, not about to give Nick the satisfaction of actually answering. Although inside, his brain had already concluded that it's owner was indeed very dumb.

'You could have stopped this. One phone call, one word of acknowledgement of that night, and she would have stayed, and I think you know that. She was scared of what you were thinking, while you were just as scared of her leaving. Great pair you make.' Nick said, shaking his head.

'Thanks for that.' Warrick said sardonically, at the same time as wondering when Nick got so insightful.

He obviously decided he'd been insightful enough for that night, and got to his feet, looking down at Warrick. 'You know, it's not too late.' He said.

'It's way too late.' Warrick disagreed.

'You never know till you try. You've got her number. Why not just give her a call? Talk, see where it leads. If the worst thing that happens is that she says no, then at least you know.'

'What if I don't want to know?' Warrick asked.

'Then stop moping around like you've lost a dollar and found a cent.' Nick said.

After Nick left, Warrick pulled out his cell phone, looking at it. He could phone her. Just like that. She would be up. Maybe she'd even answer.

Maybe the memory of that night would be enough, would be all that relationship was meant to have. Maybe it wasn't meant to be more than one perfect moment.

But maybe there were meant to be many perfect moments. Maybe he was meant to be with her and he'd ruined it for the both of them. Maybe that hadn't been the perfect night; that the next one, or the one after that would be. Maybe that wasn't meant to be the beginning and the end. Maybe it was just meant to be the beginning.

He laid the cell on the table. Just looking at it.

Maybe he'd call.

Maybe.