A/N: Sara and Nick deal with the aftermath of Grave Danger. I'm going for more angst and less fluff. Let me know how I'm doing.
Sara had a horrible case waiting on her that night at work. It felt like Grissom was testing her. This was the first case that dealt with raping and abuse that he had let her work alone. The victim was a 15-year-old girl. And of course, by alone, Sara meant with Greg. She both hated and appreciated that Grissom was giving her point on this case. She hated it because she knew he was testingher. She appreciated because it showed he was willing to work with her. Then she was angry with herself for appreciating and wanting his approval.
It was a routine case as far as evidence went. They had the DNA. They had fingerprints. They had trace. They even had surveillance tape from a KwikE Mart. A suspect was what they didn't have. The detectives would take care of that soon, she hoped. She had been absolutely professional at work, even when dealing with Catherine. They had both wanted Archie's services and Catherine was ready to blow up on Sara. So Sara had taken the high road and back off. Nick would have been proud.
Nick. Just the thought of him made her feel a little better. If anyone would understand how tough it had been to look at that girl's body on the autopsy table, it would be Nick. She had handled work well. Grissom would be proud. But now she wasn't in the lab, and she didn't have to be professional. The dark feelings that threatened to take over were looming. Nick would understand the need not to be alone with those feelings.
She stared to dial his number, and thought the better of it. It was quite presumptuous of her to call and expect to go right back to being best buds after what had happened between them. She knew she had told Nick that she had no regrets. That was true. But she knew it would be awkward between them, especially if they wereby themselves. She snapped her cell phone shut, and then dropped it when it vibrated in her hand.
"Dammit!" she exclaimed and grabbed the still vibrating phone up out of her floor board. She quickly jerked it open and answered breathlessly, "Sidle."
"Hey, I was prepared to leave a message," a familiar voice said. "You all right? You sound out of breath."
"I'm fine, just dropped the phone. This is weird. I was just thinking of calling you," she admitted. Nick's voice was a little strained. He didn't sound as rested as he had before she came into work. "Are you OK?" she asked.
"Yeah," he answered, too brightly to her ears. "I was wondering if you felt like meeting me at the diner."
"That would be cool. I'll turn around up here and come back," she said, already using her turn signal.
"Well, if you are already past it, you could come to the house. If you want to," he said. Sara heard the hesitation in his voice and understood. She knew that they were going to have to get over this sooner rather than later.
"That's fine," she said. "You need me to stop and get anything?" He sounded relieved at her answer. Sara stopped and got a carton of eggs and a couple of diet Pepsis and continued on to Nick's house. What harm was there in that?
They had ended up sleeping together, again. Sara lay in Nick's bed contemplating his profile. His eyes were closed, but she wasn't sure that he was sleeping. How in the hell had they let this happen? A couple of orgasms, and now she had become a nymphomaniac. At least, that is how she felt. Even now, she wanted to reach out and stroke his face, his rock hard abs, his . . .
She had brought the carton of eggs and Pepsis into the house. Nick was waiting and she could tell he was more haggard than the day before. She wondered if he could even close his eyes without feeling like the dirt was falling in around him. Nick, as usual, was concerned about her.
"You look a little down Sara. Tough shift?" he had asked. She sat at his kitchen table, pulling at the label on the soft drink. She had ended up telling him everything. She told him about the case, really mundane as far as evidence collection went. She told him about her suspicions that Grissom was testing her. And she told him about trying not to break down at the autopsy with Doc Robbins. By the time she had gotten to that part, Nick had her breakfast in front of her. He sat down and held her hand. Just his touch caused the tears and anger she had fought all day to well up inside.
"Here I go again. Crying on your shoulder," she said, angrily wiping the tears away. "It's just that it was so obvious she had fought really hard. The defensive wounds told the story."
"You've got to quit beating yourself up over being human," Nick said. "You need to cry sometimes. Just let it out. And if you trust me enough to let me be the one to see it, I'm proud."
"You are something else, Nick. All that you are going through, and you have to comfort me," Sara shook her head. "I can tell you didn't sleep well last night," she offered, wanting to hear him speak, to return the favor.
"It's the same old shit," he said, wearily. "That stupid song is playing in the background. Sometimes I'm on the autopsy table. Sometimes I'm in the ground. Last night, Warrick was in the coffin, and I was piling the dirt on him," he said, standing and looking out the window at the Vegas morning. The desert sun was already heating the day up. He didn't tell her that he had dreamed of her staring at him when he was on the autopsy table. He didn't tell her that she had helped him up from the slab. "I haven't had nightmares like this since I was a kid."
He looked like a child, forlorn and a little bit lost. She came up behind him and put her arms around his waist. She had never been one to offer physical comfort, but Nick needed it. They stood for a little bit, her arms around his waist and her head laying against his shoulder. He had leaned his head down so that their temples were touching, and he brought his hand up to rub her arms.
The nearness to him was giving Sara butterflies in her stomach. The smell of Nick, some combination of shampoo, soap, and cologne, was bringing backheated memories of what they had done in the bedroom right down the hall. Those thoughts were causing interesting warmth all through her body. She willed herself to stop, but it made no difference. Her body had won over her mind before, and the victory had only made it stronger. She seemed to have no willpower. She stood straighter, but kept her hands on Nick's torso. He straightened up as well, still gazing out at the morning. She licked her lips and thought about how soft, but strong his hands had been.
"You've got to stop this," she told herself, but she wasn't listening. She could tell her breathing was a little shallower than before. She hoped Nick hadn't noticed. She fought the urge to run her hands over his chest, his stomach, all over him. She licked her lips again and gazed at his neck. The skin was browner here than on his body, she knew. She wanted to taste him again, that combination of salt and cologne on his neck that she recalled from before. She kissed his neck, and allowed her hands to roam up onto his chest and back down to his waist. She felt him stiffen at first. Then he relaxed and uttered a low murmur. He turned to face her.
"Sara," he started to say, but she silenced him with an intense kiss. He let her kiss him, holding her close. When she stopped and looked up at him with those brown eyes, eyes pooled with more sadness than she let on, he wasn't sure what to say. Did he want to stop? No, he knew he wanted to go as far as she would let him. But he wanted to give her the option.
"Sara," he said again. Those liquid eyes were looking into his beseechingly.
"I need this," she had said. "Don't you?" He knew he did. More than that, he knew he wanted it. He answered her by kissing her hard and walking her backwards toward his bedroom. As they had begun undressing, Sara had stopped and held his face in her hands.
"No regrets. No looking back," she had said.
Now she lay there, looking at his profile, at little perplexed and doubtful. Had she totally screwed their friendship up this time? He was still, lying on his back with his arms behind his head. Maybe this was a different kind of friendship. She thought it was time for her to head home. She moved slowly off the bed, trying not to disturb him. She had gotten her panties on and was still fumbling with her bra when she felt his hand on her back.
"Stay," he said. She quit trying to fasten her bra. She turned to look at him. He looked tired and a little rumpled. "Stay," he repeated. She let her bra fall to the floor and rolled back into bed beside him. He smiled and pulled the covers over them.
"Set the alarm so I can go to work," was all she said.
They held each other through the night and fought the nightmares sure to come.
A/N: Thanks for all of the kind reviews. Sorry for the tech glitch with Ch 1&2. I have reloaded, so hopefully it is corrected. I have at least one more chapter planned. Thanks for sticking with me!
Kristen999: thanks for your kind words!