A/N: Just a little more angst . . . I promise just a little more.
Things settled down. Things always have this way of settling into a rather unsettling routine. I went to work; I came home. I became like a zombie in so many different ways. The neon glow of the Strip didn't fascinate me. The beautiful women wearing next to no clothes began to look more like whores then Friday night dates. Catherine said that I had grown up, but I knew that I was more depressed than anything else.
Warrick spent years trying to set me up on dates. Each date had the same outcome; the girl wasn't Sara. They could be funny and smart, but they couldn't hold a candle to her. The two relationships that I didn't unwillingly engage in turned out to be complete fiascoes.
Mandy, a cocktail waitress, was the first unsuspecting woman to try to catch my attention. She had long blonde hair and big blue eyes. She liked to watch football. Mandy was a gifted poker player. Everyone loved her, but me.
Mandy said that I was emotionally detached from the world. She went so far as to say that I needed some kind of professional help. It was a statement that my mother would echo for years. Mandy left after four months of nearly constant fighting. She left with tears falling down her face. Why aren't I good enough for you? Was I only a good lay to you? That's all you ever treat me like, she screamed as she slammed my apartment door. I never heard from Mandy again. Warrick never stopped talking about Mandy.
Gina was the second woman to try to settle me. Her efforts more than blew up in her face. It was probably the most public break up I could ever imagine. Gina was a school teacher. Years ago, I would have married her without a second thought. She loved children and animals. Gina knew what she wanted and went after it. She went after me so aggressively that I became hostile towards her. How dare she think she's better than Sara, I thought as Gina told me once again that I needed to move on.
She came to the lab with cupcakes to celebrate my birthday. Gina was in her early thirties; she didn't realize that there comes an age when people just want the birthdays to stop. At forty-five years old, I had already stopped counting years ago. Catherine asked me if I was going to marry this one. I replied with a snippy 'hell no.' Gina unfortunately heard my reply. She threw one of the cupcakes at me. I tried to make you happy. You are just so damn miserable. I can do so much better than you, Gina yelled. Catherine told me to go after her; I sat in my chair picking cupcake remnants off my shirt. Catherine told me that I was a miserable son-of-bitch that should have stayed in Bethesda. Catherine told me it was time to forget about Sara because Sara had already forgotten about me. I called Catherine a bitch and walked out the door. I went back to work after a week of suspension; I went back to work on a different shift.
At forty-seven years old, I had largely isolated myself from the rest of the world. Brass and Greg were my only allies. I talked to Catherine, Warrick, and Grissom only when I needed to. I took a month worth of vacation time to go back to Bethesda each year. There was a quiet comfort about that lab. It brought me a sereneness that I rarely felt in Vegas. It made me wish that I hadn't decided to go back to Vegas. Maybe Sara had the right idea; maybe a fresh start was what I needed to begin to move on with my life.
"I'm leaving. I'm going back to Bethesda for good," I said to Brass.
"For you or for Sara?" he asked cautiously as he watched me clean out my locker.
"For me. It's never been the same since she left. Everyone changed . . . I'm getting so damn sick of change," I grumbled as I placed the last of my person belongings into a box.
"You gave it a good shot. You made it for nine years here. Make sure you keep in touch, kid," Brass said as he laid a hand on my back. I didn't feel like much of a kid anymore.
"I will. Come out to visit once you retire," I replied.
"Like hell I will. I'm going to Palm Springs. I'm going to golf until my arms fall off. Take care of yourself, Nicky. Find yourself someone that will make you happy," Brass said. He took me off guard by hugging me. I could feel my emotions barely containing themselves. I was going to miss Brass, but I wasn't going to miss Vegas.
I watched Brass walk away through blurry eyes. I gathered my box and began to walk the same path that he did. My last day here didn't entail a pot-luck or lunch at a swanky restaurant. My last day was the same as my first, which was the same as every other day.
"Hey stranger," Sara said as she leaned up against my SUV. She hadn't looked like she changed at all in ten years. She didn't look a day older than she did when she left.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said as I approached her.
"Jim hunted me down. He said that you were leaving Vegas for good . . . he also said you called Catherine a bitch," Sara said with chuckle, "Where you headed to?"
"Bethesda, Maryland," I replied, "God, you look good, Sidle."
"You're hair is gray," Sara commented as she watched me set down my box.
"I've been contemplating dying it," I replied.
"I kind of like it. It makes you look distinguished. Let's go have supper. I'm starving . . . you need to tell me about this whole calling Catherine a bitch thing," Sara said with a smirk.
We got into my SUV and drove to that same nasty diner that we used to frequent. After ten years of nothing but change, today felt like we had somehow managed to turn back the hands of time.