She busies herself trying to unbutton my shirt. I'm shocked that she hasn't pushed me away; I'm shocked that she isn't having second thoughts about the rapid progression of things. I rationalize that four years of our kind of flirting is probably enough foreplay for a million years. Four years have been more than enough for me.
There's something graceful about Sara. The moment she allowed herself to be free from her clinical approach to the world, she moved her lips against mine like no other has. Sara touches me with a soft, non-goal oriented touch. Her fingers move of a faltering grace that is beautiful in its impreciseness. It's as if she is living in the moment for the first time in her life.
Sara sits up. Her hair is a mess. In the dim glove of the television, I can see that she is breathing heavily. She smiles that lopsided smile. In her eyes, I can see that she isn't over-analyzing or letting the overly rationale part of her brain talk her out of this. In the last few hours, she seemingly has left twenty years of baggage fall to the wayside.
"I've wanted this for a long time . . . maybe even since the first day that I met you," Sara says, "For the longest time, I believed that bullshit about you being a ladies man. You're not . . . you are the only person that has ever been patient with me. You are the only person that has ever been concerned with my feelings."
"Sara, we can stop. You don't have to rationalize doing something that you don't want to," I reply as I run a hand through her hair to make her curls once again work with gravity.
"Nick, I'm not rationalizing. I just want you to know . . . I want you to know that I care about you. I want you to know that you are a good person. We don't get much of that praise around the lab. People don't give you credit for how good of a person you are," Sara replies. I'm not sure what to say. There's a huge lump in my throat because I haven't gotten praise like that in a very long time. Last time I heard that was sometime before I became 'the CSI that sleeps with hookers.'
"I want you to know that. You always have taken the time to make me feel special. God knows you are the only one to ever do that," Sara replies as she leans forward and softly kisses my lips. "Come on."
I follow her to her bedroom. She continues to unbutton my shirt. Sara moves so slowly and deliberate. The moonlight pours into the room, but it casts only a dim glow. It makes her skin appear like ivory.
Her strip-tease is slow and sensual. It's something that I would have never expected out of Sara Sidle. Everything about her is more feminine and soft that I could have ever imagined. She's a slow and gentle lover. She wraps herself in my arms before falling asleep. I kiss the back of her head and allow myself to fall asleep.
We wake the next morning to both of our cellphones ringing. Sara answers her phone before I can figure out which pile of clothing on the floor contains mine. She silently mouths to me that it's Grissom.
"Umm . . . I'm feeling a little better. I'll probably be at work tonight . . . . I'm not sure. He's still asleep. Yah, he stayed over here because I got pretty sick last night. You don't have to. That's very sweet, but I'm not sure if we'll feel like eating," Sara said to Grissom. I had to smirk at how she was able to manipulate him. It was only fair; he spent so many years manipulating her. "I'll tell Nick. I'll see you tonight."
"Grissom was worried because we didn't answer our phones last night when he called to check in. Oddly sweet," Sara said with an arched eyebrow as I finally uncovered my phone. I slid back in bed next to her.
"How are you feeling this morning?" I ask cautiously.
"Good. You could have just asked if I was having second thoughts," Sara said with a smile. Again with the crystal ball.
"Are you having second thoughts?" I ask as I run my finger down her arm.
"You would have been out on the doormat if I was," Sara said with a laugh, "I like this."
"Good because I like this too," I reply as I kiss the dime-size spot on her neck that seemed to be extra sensitive last night.
"I could probably get used to this," Sara teased as I positioned myself on top of her.
"Good," I reply.
Our day was spent relaxing in Sara's apartment. Her police scanner wasn't turned on the entire day. We made breakfast and lunch together. Sara even tried to explain the finer points of vegetarianism to me. I tried to explain to her that there wasn't a chance in hell of that happening. She went with me to my house so I could change clothes before shift.
Before we walked into the lab, I thanked her for being my best friend. Sara said that she was glad that I waited for her.
A/N: Thanks again for all the kind reviews. I'm not sure if this is the end of the story - I like the last two sentences as a closer. But if you all want more, I'll try to come up with a plot for future chapters (or if you all have any ideas let me know). I have an exam on Monday, so I probably won't have a chance to update until Tues or Wed.
Thanks for reading (and reviewing), Jac