DISCLAIMER: Yes, I own CSI. I'm also Santa Clause. As you can see, I have a good imagination. Ok, ok, imagine the plot, I did, but the characters, well, they're borrowed. Sigh.
xOx
THE CHRISTMAS BLUES
xOx
"...around the Christmas tree/ Have a happy holiday..."
Sara entered the break room to find Greg with a pile of Christmas cards strewn in front of him. He was reaching over to collect the envelopes in which he was going to place his messages of goodwill and peace when he noticed Sara staring at the radio which was still blaring out Christmas carols. She seemed to be eyeing it with disapproval, much to Greg's surprise, so he turned down the volume and proceeded to question her about her dislike towards his favourite Christmas song.
"Sara, you can't possibly not like this Christmas carol."
"Don't be offended, Greg. I don't like any Christmas carols," Sara replied, turning her gaze away from the radio and on to a piece of paper she had left lying on the table.
Greg sighed. He had noticed over the past couple of weeks that Sara had become more distant than usual. She seemed cold, even. He couldn't be sure, but after hearing her rant about what a waste Christmas lights were as they drove to the scene of one of their recent cases, he suspected that the approach of Christmas had something to do with it. Such behaviour was unnatural to Greg, and he decided to try and cheer her up. Searching through his pile of cards, he found the one he had addressed to Sara, placed it in an envelope and wrote her name on the front.
"Ok, but I bet even you can't say no to a Christmas card. Especially when it's from me," Greg smiled, handing her the card.
Slowly, Sara turned around to look at Greg, a dazed expression on her face. Obviously, his remark had caught her off-guard, but she proceeded to take the card that Greg extended before her, flashing him a genuine smile in response.
"I'll take that as a yes," Greg chuckled. "Would I be pushing it if I asked you to come along as Mrs Clause to a party some of my mates are throwing? I'm Santa, by the way." He winked.
"Sorry, Greggo. I have a party of my own to attend. Thanks for the invitation, though. And the card." Before he could even show his surprise, Sara had walked out the door. Greg sighed once more. He could have sworn her smile had faltered and her shoulders had tensed when she'd said those last few words. For someone who was going to a party, Sara seemed very unhappy.
xOx
Sara pulled into her driveway and noted how dark and uninviting her house appeared. All her neighbours had Christmas lights dangling from their rooftops. One neighbour across the road had gone all out, with Santa and his reindeers resting on their lawn. The driveway of that house was adorned with cars, and the open curtains of the house revealed that Christmas festivities were taking place. Sara sighed, and exited her car. She hated Christmas lights. She always saw families putting them up at the start of December, laughing as they did so. She knew, then, that at night, while the lights twinkled brightly outside, the family inside were enjoying themselves. Being merry, just like the Christmas season wanted. Not at the Sidle residence, Sara noted bitterly, no, I don't even have a Christmas tree.
As she stepped through her door and turned on the lights, Sara realised there was absolutely no sign that it was Christmas at her house. No, Sara thought, as her eyes came to rest on a thick book resting on her bookshelf, I may not celebrate Christmas, but I had a happy one...once. She threw her jacket off angrily. He's got other women to give books to now.
Picking her jacket up from the floor, Sara saw that Greg's Christmas card had fallen out. She had been so surprised when he had given her the card. It had been so long since anyone had given her one that she'd completely forgotten about the tradition. She didn't keep in contact with her immediate family anymore, while at work, the CSI's always told each other that they'd give out cards about a week before Christmas, but then become too involved in pre-Christmas crimes to remember about cards.
She took the card out of the envelope, and came face to face with a cartoon of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. A faint smile formed on Sara's lips, growing slightly as she read Greg's message. My dear Sara. It has been a pleasure learning the tricks of the trade with the help of your wise guidance. I have already asked Santa to provide me with more chances to work with you. Here's hoping that the New Year provides me with these chances, and perhaps, the occasional coffee...and dinner...and date. Loving you always, Greg. P.S: Merry Christmas! Blowing the dust off her bare mantelpiece, Sara placed Greg's card in the centre of it. All the while, regret was growing at the back of her mind for not having accepted Greg's proposal.
Sara shook her head. She had to stop being so pathetic. Being alone at Christmas was something she'd come to expect. In fact, she would have it no other way. Sara's thoughts drifted to past memories, to the days when she had still had hopes of living out everyone's ideal Christmas. It was hard, considering her relatives had cut all ties with her parents. It meant that any celebrations would not be lived out to their full, joyous potential, and that was saddening. Yet, as long as her family had each other, as long as everyone loved one another, then that was all that mattered, Sara had decided.
As she grew up, however, her hopes had shattered permanently. Sara came to realise that Christmas would always pass by like any other day in her family. Her parents would get drunk and go to sleep early, while her brother would settle down on the couch and watch TV all day long. At first, it had hurt, especially when she had glanced out her window and seen families living out so carelessly that ideal Christmas which she had longed for but never experienced. The year she adjusted her expectations for Christmas, however, she had become immune to those images of happiness.
That was, until the year she spent Christmas in a foster home. A foster home which went all out for the occasion. There were decorations, there were presents but most importantly, there was a Christmas lunch with a huge family. It was the ideal Christmas Sara had always hoped for. It did not matter to her foster parents that she technically was not part of their family, but it did matter to Sara. Yet, it wasn't the fact that she didn't belong that made her depressed as another hour of the celebrations passed. It was looking at some of the children clapping their hands and giggling as Santa danced around the house and realising that she had grown up without ever having experienced this joy and love with her family. It was something she would never be able to regain.
She had gone to bed early that night, the sound of her tears muffled by the carols that were still being sung in the living area. Sara decided that this Christmas had been the worst of them all. It had shown her all that she had missed by spending Christmas reading science books in bed. Sara had always thought she had been resistant to pain, but that night, the hurt in her heart was intolerable. She had missed so much. It was a pain that she never wanted to feel again, and if it meant spending Christmas alone, then so be it.
Sara sighed. Yes, these were the annual Christmas parties she attended. Riveting, aren't they, Sara, what with leftovers as the Christmas feast and reruns of old Christmas movies as the entertainment. At least there was alcohol in the past. Cynical Sara was coming out to play. As much as she hated what she had been reduced to, she couldn't risk going out, having fun only to feel that pain again. Only now you're 33, not 13. Christmas is a completely different experience at this age. Don't create more missed opportunities. Sara laughed bitterly, a harsh echo resounding around the room. It was time for Hopeful Sara's annual visit. She wouldn't stick around for long.
Sara's eyes strayed to the mantelpiece, now adorned with Greg's card. She knew it was this card, bringing Christmas spirit into a spiritless house, that was causing her to hope. You can't have just one card up, it looks stupid and out of place. Sara stepped back, gazed around the room and turned her attention to the card on the mantelpiece once more. It did look out of place. Sorry Greg, Sara whispered as she took his card, walked over to her bookshelf and slipped it in between the book Grissom had given her for Christmas. Sara fought off the temptation to take out the book and leaf through it. It meant a lot then, Sara. Now, it's just empty words. It was time for Defeated Sara to make an appearance.
She walked over to her fridge and opened it. There was no food. No frozen meals, no leftovers. Damn. I was supposed to buy some food. Sara looked at her watch. All the nearby shops will be closed by now. She walked over to the cupboard and looked inside it. There wasn't much there either. Resigning herself to a bag of chips and a can of Coke, Sara walked over to her couch, turned on the TV and proceeded to watch a Christmas movie she was sure she'd seen the year before. You hypocrite. You used to shout at everyone for doing this back home. Watching TV when you could be singing carols. Where's your Christmas spirit now, Sara!
As if her thoughts had been read, Sara heard Christmas songs being sung. However, they weren't coming from the TV, but from the neighbour across the road, with the fancy Santa and full driveway. And so this is Christmas...Even though the can of Coke remained unopened and the bag of chips had only been touched twice, Sara felt bloated. Plus the singing was getting louder. And I hate Christmas carols.
With a start, Sara turned off the TV, stood up and walked off to her bedroom, her dinner still lying on the couch. If you go to bed, it will soon be over. You can forget about all this for another year. Having changed into her pyjamas, Sara stood silently in front of her mirror, giving her hair a final brush. BEEP BEEP. The alarm clock by her bedside informed her that it was now midnight.
Sara nodded at the reflection that gazed back at her. "Merry Christmas, Sara Sidle." And with that, she wiped away the tears forming in the corner of her eyes, turned off her bedroom light and went to bed.
xOx
AUTHOR'S NOTE: No happy ending for this fic, I'm afraid. Hey, you've got to read a depressing Sara Christmas story once in a while. Besides, it was good therapy for me, hehe, But on a happier note, I do wish everyone a Merry Christmas! (May it be merrier than Sara's!)