Title: Child's Play
Author: DarkDreamer56
Archive: If you want it, ask please!
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: N/S
Disclaimer: If I owned them, they'd be together right now
Spoilers: None that I know of…

A/N: This is in response to a challenge. Let me know what you think in a review!

Nick was hauling the last box from his garage when he noticed her. Sara was sitting on the steps to his back porch, legs stretched out in front of her, in a black cocktail dress, looking absolutely amazing. It had been far too long since he had seen her dressed like that. Her strappy black heels had been discarded in the grass, next to her feet.

"Hey Sar, what's up? I didn't even here you come up the driveway," he called out, wiping his hands on the front of his jeans before joining her on the steps.

She forced a small smirk in his direction. "Cleaning out your garage?"

"Did you use your superior CSI skills to deduce that Sar?" he teased, but was concerned when he was only met with a weak laugh. "Hey, not that I mind, finding a beautiful woman sitting on my back porch, but what's wrong?"

She looked up at him, and this time her smile was genuine, but small. "Just had a bad date. Wanted to see a friendly face. Besides, you're place was closer, and my feet were killing me in those shoes."

Nick craned his neck to look out front, and noticed that her Denali was parked nowhere in sight. "How'd you get here?" he queried.

"I walked. It wasn't too far."

"He didn't try anything did he? I mean, I'm sure I've got a baseball bat somewhere in there…" He gestured to the garage, a plan already forming in his mind.

Sara laughed and gently patted his arm. "No no, he wasn't that kind of bad date. Well, maybe a little hands on," she admitted, "but nothing I couldn't handle. The problem was more with his personality."

Nick quirked an eyebrow at her. "What are we talking? Self involved? Shallow? Closeted sociopath?"

"Well he spent the first hour talking about all the celebrities he's met, all the clubs and parties they invited him to in LA, and about his fabulous job in the entertainment industry. Like that would really impress me anyway. Turns out, he was a research assistant for 'I Love the '80's.'" Sara rolled her eyes. "But his real life's ambition, get this, is to be our nation's next American Idol. If only they would up the age limit to 35. When he left to use the bathroom, I pretended I got a phone call from a friend, who needed me right away."

Nick couldn't help but chuckle, partly at the situation, and partly at the way Sara's face screwed up as she recounted it, as if she was reliving a bizarre dream. "Yeah, I'd have to agree, that was a bad date."

"They all have been lately," Sara grumbled, resting back against her elbows on the next step up. "I just want a nice guy, you know? Someone smart, genuine, caring. Is there some sort of rule where there can only be a couple of you living in each city?"

Nick was pleased at this revelation. "So you think I'm one of the good guys then?" He couldn't hide the grin.

"Of course," she replied, smiling back. "If only I could find someone like you. I've had enough of the wrong ones, why can't a find a nice guy?" Sara sighed and began to play with the hem of her dress.

"Maybe you're not looking in the right place," Nick replied.

"Where should I be looking? At work? We know how well that went, both times…" Sara scoffed.

"Third time could be the charm. You could do much better than Hank, and Grissom…well you two are just too much alike. You need someone to balance you out, make you stop and have some fun every once in awhile." Nick watched her face, trying to gauge her reaction to his honesty. He was pleased to notice a grin, even if it indicated that she thought he was being ridiculous. He had found an opportunity, and he wasn't going to pass it up.

"Well Nick, since you seem to have thought this through so well, who do you think the next candidate for my office romance should be?"

"Me," he replied automatically, watching her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his directness. She wore the nervous smile she always did when she didn't quite believe what someone was telling her.

"Nick, you don't have to do this…"

"Do what?"

"Pretend you want to go out with me, just because I've had a couple bad dates."

He'd already come this far; he might as well lay it all out on the table. "Who says I'm pretending? Come on Sar, even you can't ignore that things have always been just a little shy of crossing that line between friends and something more between us. It's been five years, and I'm not stupid enough to let an opportunity to pass through my fingers. What do you say we see what life is like on the other side?"

Nick searched her eyes for an answer, since she seemed incapable of speech for the moment. He detected a hint of fear, but nothing that outright told him he had been out of line. Still, he knew that if he had any chance of getting the answer he wanted, he couldn't pressure her into it. "Sar, we've waited five years, we don't have to resolve this tonight. I just wanted to put the idea out there, when the opportunity presented itself."

He tested the waters by slowing reaching out and grasping her hand. Pleased when a soft smile appeared on her face, he entwined his fingers with hers.

"Do you need any help with those?" she asked, gesturing to the boxes scattered around his driveway, and effectively changing the subject. She leaned over to inspect the contents of one sitting next to the porch.

"Nah, I've got them all sorted through: stuff I'm keeping, stuff I'm donating, and stuff that's going into the trash."

"And which one is this?"

He peered into the box she was looking into. It contained random things: his senior yearbook, and a baseball that his entire Little League team had signed the year they won the State Championships. "That's a keeper." He watched in amusement as Sara dug around the box; even sitting on his porch in a cocktail dress, she was not quite able to let go of her CSI skills.

"I think this got into the wrong box," she declared, holding up a red, horribly uneven, knitted scarf. He chuckled and shook his head. "Nope, it belongs there."

"No it doesn't," she protested. "I should never have inflicted my poor knitting skills on you. I thought it would be a good hobby to pick up, after…well, you know, but I should have found something I was a little bit better at."

Nick knew she meant her run in with the DUI, and her subsequent attempt that summer to take up some new interests. That included learning to knit, and her attempts had been in earnest, but ultimately the outcomes were pretty hideous. Still, she had presented each member of the graveyard shift with their own personal scarf, most likely in an attempt to show them she was trying to use her time more constructively.

"I happen to like that scarf. No one has ever made me my own. It stays."

Sara looked at him skeptically. "When I gave Greg his, he asked me if I was still drinking when I finished it."

Nick grabbed the scarf back from her and deposited into the box, before scooping the box up. "I'm going to put this somewhere safe; namely, where you can't try to throw it away. Do you want anything to drink while I'm in the house?"

Sara shook her head. "No more going through my boxes!" he teased before retreating into the house. Things were going well. These weren't the exact circumstances he had planned on declaring his feelings under, but overall Sara seemed to be taking it well. At least, she had rejected him, or run screaming from his property.

When he returned, Sara was no longer sitting on the porch. She had found his basketball and was now standing in the middle of his driveway, barefoot, idly dribbling the ball. He watched her aim, and then shoot, noting that it swished cleanly through the net. She collected it from under the net, and was set to aim again when he interrupted.

"I never figured you to be big on basketball. You'll never play with Warrick and me at work," he called.

She turned and smiled at the sound of his voice. "Wouldn't want to show the two of you up, you'd never hear the end of it from Hodges," she smirked, throwing him the ball.

"Are you challenging me Sidle?"

She grinned. "Maybe. I'll make it easy on you. Game of HORSE. I win, and you have to come over and help me with some spring cleaning."

"And if I win?"

"You'll get that date," she answered, and Nick wondered if he was imagining the slightest blush painting itself across her cheeks.

Nick had never wanted to win a game of HORSE so badly. He had a date with Sara riding on it, and this was one game he wasn't going to go down in, not without a fight. A half hour later, they were both tied at HORS. He should have been winning, but the last time he was shooting, Sara had leaned over to brush something from her leg, providing him with a nice few of her butt just as he released the ball. Still, Sara had been a formidable opponent. She had been doing surprisingly well, especially further back from the net.

Now Nick was waiting for her to attempt her next basket. It had been fairly easy for him to make the shot from there, even though it was pretty far down the driveway. Sara had already made a few shots further back though, so he expected her to make it and carry this game on a little bit longer.

Her face was screwed up in concentration as she released the ball. Nick followed it with his eyes as the basketball sailed towards the net. He started forward to catch it after it sailed through the net, when he noticed that it never reached the net. Instead, it fell about a foot short of the basket, falling to the ground with a thud.

Nick glanced back at Sara and saw the nervous smile on her face. "I guess you're gonna get that date after all Nick."

Nick turned back to the ball, making certain that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. It had rolled into the grass. He had a date with Sara.

A half hour later, Nick was pulling up in front of Sara's apartment building. They had both been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride. Doubts had crept into Nick's mind as he drove the familiar route. He wanted Sara to go out with him, but he didn't want it to be only because she lost a bet. She had seemed to take it well, helping him put the boxes away before requesting a ride home, but Nick still found himself uneasy.

"Tomorrow night?" Sara asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"You're already zoning out on me? This can't be good," she teased. "I said, how about tomorrow night? We're both off, so we could go out to dinner, or a movie, or if you have something else in mind." Nick allowed himself a small smile as he listened to her ramble nervously. He reached out and placed his hand on her arm to stop her.

"Listen Sar, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I want to take you out, but I also want you to want it too. You don't have to do this just because you lost a game of HORSE. If you're not sure, I can wait."

He felt the warmth of her other hand settle on top of his hand. A smile was playing at the corners of her mouth as she leaned closer to him, whispering conspiratorially in his ear. "Nick, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. My high school had the State Championship Girl's team all four years I played. I was the highest scoring player for three years. If I had wanted to make that basket, I would have." She placed a kiss on his cheek, and then reached for her door.

Nick lost all control of his thought processes at that statement, but he was still able to reach out and stop Sara from exiting the car until he gathered his thoughts.

When he was finally able to speak again, he asked, "What changed your mind? You were so unsure. Hell, you couldn't even verbally respond. What changed?"

"When I saw that scarf," she admitted, "You kept that horribly crafted, ugly, deformed thing, just because I made it for you. That changed my mind."

"So we're really going to do this? And you want to?" Nick was still operating in a daze, and he wanted to make sure he understood things perfectly.

"Yes," she replied, planting another soft kiss on his cheek, "and now I'm going to go and get some sleep, because I've got a pretty hot date to get ready for tomorrow."

Nick couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he watched Sara let herself into the building. It may have taken five years, but Nick thought that things were going to look pretty good on the "something more" side of that line.

FIN.

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