"So are you going to join us for breakfast this morning?" Nick asked, still slightly embarrassed by the scene earlier, as they all sat around the break room again. For once, all their cases had wrapped up quickly and everyone was finishing paperwork in anticipation.
Sara couldn't resist teasing him some more. "No, I have to be somewhere," she replied mysteriously and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Catherine paused and glanced over the top of her folder at Nick to see if he would take the bait.
"Meeting Brass?" He guessed, with a tone of self-deprecation.
"No, with another older gentleman," she replied smugly.
Nick's eyes bugged out. "Grissom?"
She twisted her face into a picture of mock disgust. "No," she said emphatically.
He shook his head, laughingly. "You know, I think I'm better off not knowing about your personal life," he teased.
She swatted him with the folder she was working on. "You're just jealous," she said, winking at him flirtatiously. She checked her watch. "Ooops, gotta go. Bye."
Catherine arched her eyebrow at Sara's retreating back as she snapped her own folder shut. "She's in an awfully good mood," she commented.
"Yeah," Warrick agreed, watching her back. "I could get used to it." A chorus of 'yeahs' responded to his assertion.
Sara wondered wryly if Tony would have objected to being called a gentleman earlier as he started laying out her training plan for her. If the plan was anything to go by, he was anything but gentle. As soon as she arrived at the gym, he sent her out on a five-mile run. "I want you used to training on rubbery legs," was his curt explanation. He spent the next hour after the run drilling her on footwork in the ring, and finished her off with the most intense ring drills she had ever done before. By the time he stopped the session, her legs and shoulders burned with exhaustion. She knew her punches got sloppy the last half hour, but she thought she saw approval in Tony's eyes when he gruffly ordered her to jump rope and practice combinations at half-speed for an hour later in the day. Driving home, she felt a warm lassitude wash over her as every muscle seemed emptied of stress and tension. She forced herself to eat a huge lunch and shower before crawling into bed.
For a while, it did seem that she was living a double life, working her mind intensely at work and her body just as intensely at the gym. Every morning she collapsed into a dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion, and she found her appetite picking up, which did not go unnoticed by her co-workers, but she also found herself happier than she had been in a long, long time. She was more relaxed at work, and everyone took their cue from that and relaxed around her as well. As she noticed the changes in her co-workers, she realized that her defensiveness around them after the incident had played a large part in the strain between them. Work started to be interesting again, and training was no longer an escape but a perfectly balanced counter. The schedule took its toll, sometimes, but her insomnia and occasional bouts with depression all but disappeared.
She was dozing in the break room before shift started when Warrick patted her on the shoulder, eliciting an "ouch" as she flinched away from his hand before she realized she had done it. Her second sparring session with another amateur flyweight, one of the guys at the gym, had been that afternoon and while she had held her own, she knew she would have bruises all over the place the next day.
She glanced up into his concerned eyes and tried to smile away his concern. "Hey." He didn't reply, just narrowed his eyes and put pressure on her shoulder until she twitched it out from under his hand. "Ouch." She sighed at his continued silence. "Ok, you caught me. I'm sore."
"From what?"
"Lifting." She caught his doubtful expression. "What? I've been on a fitness kick lately."
He seemed to accept that, and poured them both a cup of coffee before sitting down beside her. "Here. You look like you could use this." She sipped the coffee gratefully, exhausted after the workout. She had the day off from training tomorrow and she knew she could use a day to sleep. "Fitness kick, huh? No wonder you are looking so buff lately." She reached for a donut as he chuckled. "And maybe why you are eating so damn much." She grunted in reply.
Even though she took a long hot shower this afternoon, her muscles were already starting to tighten. She dropped her head and rotated her shoulders, trying to keep them loose. She couldn't wait until the shift ended and she could soak for a good hour in the tub. Warrick's voice broke through her daydreams of a whirlpool and a glass of wine. "Turn around." She shifted around on her chair and he started kneading her shoulders, eliciting a low moan of appreciation from her. "Damn, girl, how long have you been lifting? Your shoulders are like steel."
"A while," she admitted, and then sighed in pure contentment as his fingers moved up her neck. "I decided to do something constructive instead of destructive with all my excess stress."
"Mmmm, when's my turn?" Catherine asked from the doorway.
Sara laughed. "Get in line." But she reached up and caught Warrick's hands, stopping their movement on her shoulders. "Thanks."
"No problem. Just next time, be more careful."
Sara couldn't resist teasing him some more. "No, I have to be somewhere," she replied mysteriously and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Catherine paused and glanced over the top of her folder at Nick to see if he would take the bait.
"Meeting Brass?" He guessed, with a tone of self-deprecation.
"No, with another older gentleman," she replied smugly.
Nick's eyes bugged out. "Grissom?"
She twisted her face into a picture of mock disgust. "No," she said emphatically.
He shook his head, laughingly. "You know, I think I'm better off not knowing about your personal life," he teased.
She swatted him with the folder she was working on. "You're just jealous," she said, winking at him flirtatiously. She checked her watch. "Ooops, gotta go. Bye."
Catherine arched her eyebrow at Sara's retreating back as she snapped her own folder shut. "She's in an awfully good mood," she commented.
"Yeah," Warrick agreed, watching her back. "I could get used to it." A chorus of 'yeahs' responded to his assertion.
Sara wondered wryly if Tony would have objected to being called a gentleman earlier as he started laying out her training plan for her. If the plan was anything to go by, he was anything but gentle. As soon as she arrived at the gym, he sent her out on a five-mile run. "I want you used to training on rubbery legs," was his curt explanation. He spent the next hour after the run drilling her on footwork in the ring, and finished her off with the most intense ring drills she had ever done before. By the time he stopped the session, her legs and shoulders burned with exhaustion. She knew her punches got sloppy the last half hour, but she thought she saw approval in Tony's eyes when he gruffly ordered her to jump rope and practice combinations at half-speed for an hour later in the day. Driving home, she felt a warm lassitude wash over her as every muscle seemed emptied of stress and tension. She forced herself to eat a huge lunch and shower before crawling into bed.
For a while, it did seem that she was living a double life, working her mind intensely at work and her body just as intensely at the gym. Every morning she collapsed into a dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion, and she found her appetite picking up, which did not go unnoticed by her co-workers, but she also found herself happier than she had been in a long, long time. She was more relaxed at work, and everyone took their cue from that and relaxed around her as well. As she noticed the changes in her co-workers, she realized that her defensiveness around them after the incident had played a large part in the strain between them. Work started to be interesting again, and training was no longer an escape but a perfectly balanced counter. The schedule took its toll, sometimes, but her insomnia and occasional bouts with depression all but disappeared.
She was dozing in the break room before shift started when Warrick patted her on the shoulder, eliciting an "ouch" as she flinched away from his hand before she realized she had done it. Her second sparring session with another amateur flyweight, one of the guys at the gym, had been that afternoon and while she had held her own, she knew she would have bruises all over the place the next day.
She glanced up into his concerned eyes and tried to smile away his concern. "Hey." He didn't reply, just narrowed his eyes and put pressure on her shoulder until she twitched it out from under his hand. "Ouch." She sighed at his continued silence. "Ok, you caught me. I'm sore."
"From what?"
"Lifting." She caught his doubtful expression. "What? I've been on a fitness kick lately."
He seemed to accept that, and poured them both a cup of coffee before sitting down beside her. "Here. You look like you could use this." She sipped the coffee gratefully, exhausted after the workout. She had the day off from training tomorrow and she knew she could use a day to sleep. "Fitness kick, huh? No wonder you are looking so buff lately." She reached for a donut as he chuckled. "And maybe why you are eating so damn much." She grunted in reply.
Even though she took a long hot shower this afternoon, her muscles were already starting to tighten. She dropped her head and rotated her shoulders, trying to keep them loose. She couldn't wait until the shift ended and she could soak for a good hour in the tub. Warrick's voice broke through her daydreams of a whirlpool and a glass of wine. "Turn around." She shifted around on her chair and he started kneading her shoulders, eliciting a low moan of appreciation from her. "Damn, girl, how long have you been lifting? Your shoulders are like steel."
"A while," she admitted, and then sighed in pure contentment as his fingers moved up her neck. "I decided to do something constructive instead of destructive with all my excess stress."
"Mmmm, when's my turn?" Catherine asked from the doorway.
Sara laughed. "Get in line." But she reached up and caught Warrick's hands, stopping their movement on her shoulders. "Thanks."
"No problem. Just next time, be more careful."