Title: Seeking a Miracle

Fandom: CSI

Pairing: Sara/Warrick

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Notes: For the LiveJournal MultiFandom1000 "A Bad Idea" challenge

When he answers his front door and sees her standing there, Sara can read the surprise in Warrick's eyes loud and clear, doesn't need the vocal to go along with it. He's not to know that though, and his, "Sara! What are you doing here?" doesn't exactly ring with tidings of glad welcome.

Not that she can blame him. After all, in the time she's been living in Vegas, she can count on her fingers – possibly of one hand – the number of times she's been to his house. Even then, it was always with the rest of the shift, occasionally for breakfast, once for a barbecue.

She's never come here on her own before, never just dropped by because she was in the neighbourhood, which, as she considers Warrick one of her best friends, if not her best, she finds pretty damn depressing.

Of course, that's pretty much her problem with life in general at the moment.

It's also why she's here.

Because she's tired of walking around the lab like some animated corpse, tired of the weight of eyes on her shoulders. She's tired of friction with Catherine and competition with Nick, and she's so damn tired of all the drama with Grissom.

Most of all, she's tired of being alone.

She's not sure what broke her today, not sure why she left her apartment and came here, only that she was driven by the sure knowledge that Warrick would welcome her, that he wouldn't turn her away.

But now, standing in front of him, a thousand questions lurking in those green eyes of his, she's not so sure. And she, with the Harvard education, she who has never had a problem telling people what she thinks, is suddenly lost for words.

"I just…" She looks away from him, reaches up to brush back a lock of hair behind her ear, only for it to become immediately dislodged when she shakes her head. "I was… um…" He's still looking at her, curiosity giving way to concern, and she shakes her head again, takes a step back. "You know what, never mind," she says. "This was a bad idea… I'm just going to go…"

She's stepping back as she talks, turns her back on him, and she's surprised when a strong hand closes over her wrist, at the same time as he says her name. "Sara, wait…"

His grip is firm (he's not going to let her go) but gentle (he's not going to hurt her) and the combination, to her utter horror, sends a lump to her throat, tears to her eyes. She can't turn to look at him, won't turn to look at him, because she's never cried in front of him before, doesn't want to do it now, doesn't want to show her weakness.

Maybe he knows what she's thinking, because he doesn't try to make her turn. Instead, he walks around her, rests his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me," he says, a request, not an order, and his voice is so low with concern that Sara literally aches. "Look at me, Sara…"

Slowly, oh so slowly, she drags her gaze up to meet his, and, as she knew it would, the look on his face does her in completely. Tears flood her eyes, one making its way down her cheek, and she cannot speak.

"Sara…" Her name is a breath on his lips, and then he's pulling her towards him. Part of her wants to resist, but the greater part goes willingly, slides her arms around his waist, rests her head on his shoulder. One of his hands cups the back of her head, the other slides up and down her back, and she's barely aware of him talking to her. "It's going to be all right Sara… it's gonna be all right…"

Miracle of miracles, standing here like this, Sara finds herself believing him.