Disclaimer: Don't own them, didn't create them, don't profit from them.
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Author's Notes: Thank you for all of the reviews!
MissAmanda: Yes, a sense of humor is always important and thank you, I like to believe that I can be funny at times too.
Anushka: I'm sorry darlin' for making you want to cry!
Cassie: In regards to "the snickerness in you, just as the snickerness in me, cannot stand to let them be apart," yes I know, it's a horrible, horrible thing I have started but don't worry. I think we all know how it's going to turn out in the end. Or maybe I will be very anti-shipper and make them not get together again. –gasps– I know. I think it's a brilliant idea too.
Kate: Darling, who said anything about them breaking up? Hmm… I do like the sound of you giving me George for a while though I cannot promise that when I return him he will be able to walk. Sorry. That's what happens when you make use of every room in the house and every surface that can withstand at least one hundred and twenty pounds… maybe near three hundred for two…
Chapter Seven: Humiliations and Distractions
Grissom knew that he should have been outraged, livid enough, buthe feltnone of these emotions as he resumed his seat in his office behind his cluttered desk. He glanced over the piles of papers, neatly stacked and in such a way where he knew where everything was. There was so much for him to do and what else could he possibly be doing on a Sunday night besides paperwork?
There was a different side of Sara that he saw and didn't know whether or not he liked it. She was daring, bold, and had a flippant attitude, one that was very uncharacteristic of her. Grissom furrowed his brown and read the first line of the few papers that were in the particular beige folder in his hands. As much as he wanted to focus on the file, there was no way that he could and he knew this. Instead of pouring for hours of reading papers and signing things, he grabbed his jacket off the back of the door and started to head for the break room. That night was slow, slower than any other day in the past three months. Warrick and Nick were busy working a case while Catherine had personal matters to attend to. Sara, however, was sitting in the break room, a fresh cup of coffee before her and piles of folders identical to the ones on Grissom's desk.
"You never did find a hobby, did you?" Grissom wondered, lightly jesting and hoping that the awkwardness that had settled between them would gradually begin to dissolve.
"No, it doesn't seem so," she smiled faintly, looking up from her work to the man leaning against the doorway. "Are you leaving?" She checked her watch. There was still two hours left of shift.
"Only for a little while. The night's slow and there's a few things at home that I need to fix up." Like the notches on my bedpost, he thought quietly to himself.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. You'll be all right?"
"I'll be fine."
He was about to leave when he stopped himself, his hand on the doorframe and his jacket in the other.
"Sara, should be talk about what happened?"
In the moment that she assumed he was leaving, her head had bent back down, focusing all her attention on the work in front of her, driving her crazy. Carefully, she raised her head slightly, just enough so that she could see him and look him straight in the eyes.
"I think we both understand what happened and why it happened," she replied matter-of-factly. "Unless…"
"No, I understand completely. But Sara, next time you want vengeance, would you mind sparing me a little dignity?"
"The idea was to humiliate, Gil," she murmured at his retreating back.
"What's up, Nicky? You seem a little down in the dumps tonight," observed Warrick, glancing to his side at his coworker, who was staring out the tinted window of the Tahoe.
"I'll be all right. Nothing to worry about, man."
"You sure? There's never a time when there's not a smile on that smug-ass face of yours."
That, however, made Nick grin a little. "Just thinking a few things over."
"Like what?"
"Just things."
"Man, don't make me interrogate you the entire drive back. Why don't you just tell me what the hell distracted you ever since you stepped through the lab doors?"
"Dude, it's nothing that I can't handle on my own," Nick replied, turning his head to look Warrick dead-on. He hoped he sounded convincing. The last thing he needed was Warrick to know. And besides, Nick told himself, he could surely handle his own.
"Fine, Nick. Whatever you say. But if you decide you want to spill, I'm all ears."
"Thanks."
They found her with bloodshot eyes, sipping her fifth cup of coffee and trying to work out a cramp in her hand. She looked like shit and felt like it too, hardly caring if either of them noticed. Warrick looked like he was about to make a snide comment but she shot him a glare normally reserved for freezing Hell over and went back to the painfully long overview of the case she worked last week.
Nick, she noted, didn't even look in her direction but headed straight for the pot of coffee still steaming on the counter at the back of the room. He poured himself a cup and drank it in fair-sized gulps. Fortunately, Warrick didn't seem to notice the tension between the two but he made the mistake of leaving them alone together to find Greg and ask him about the DNA samples he had sent earlier.
With keen eyes, Nick looked over Sara since he had a great view of almost all of her. She looked like she was hungry, in need of real food besides coffee, which was its own food group to most of the CSIs, and in dire need of a goodnight's sleep. Last night had been so lonely, Nick thought, wallowing slightly. He missed waking up and feeling her warmth beside him and in his arms, missed the smell of her hair and the touch of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. And shit, it had only been one night. There was no way that his body was going to be able to stand being away from her despite what his mind thought.
"What?" Her voice wasn't a snap but it was very close to sounding irritated.
"Hmm?"
"You're staring," she mumbled, keeping her eyes on what was before her instead of him.
"Sorry. I zoned out," Nick stated flatly, setting his empty cup in the sink.
Her eyebrow raised and dropped just as quickly. She said no more and expected him to just leave without another word or a single glance, not expecting to feel his hands on her shoulders, beginning to work the tension out of her muscles.
"Nick?"
"Don't worry. I'm still as mad at you as I ever was. You just look like you need a little tension taken out of your body."
Normally, Nick would have suggested sex, but right now it was not the time or the place for him to say it, in spite of the way his body was reacting to just merely working the muscles of her back.
Leaning forward in her seat, Sara gave himbetter access to all of her back, nearly purring when his hand shifted down her shoulders and sides to the small of her back, rubbing firm circles in a way that had her knees weak and her voice tremble. He didn't mean to slip his hands underneath but when the small strip of flesh between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans allowed him to touch skin, he couldn't help himself. Before either of them knew it, his hands were massaging just over her bra and she bit down on her lip, her mind too clouded with nothing else but lust to realize that he was mad at her, that she had technically cheated, and they were on 'not speaking' terms.
Nick snapped back to reality when Sara couldn't swallow another moan and when the front of his pants no longer concealed himself. He swore under his breath, noticing now that his hands had begun to make their way to her chest. Unfortunately for her, she didn't get the pleasure of his touch there because he had come to a moment before.
Awkwardly, he removed his hands from underneath her shirt and briskly walked out. Sara noted that the way he was walking was the way a man walked with a raging hard-on in between his thighs.
She sighed and muttered a few unintelligent things beneath her breath as she gathered up her files. Paperwork was done for the night, Sara decided. There was no possible way that she would be able to concentrate hard enough on the papers, and only the papers. She ran into Grissom on her way to the locker room and she asked if she could leave earlier that night, telling him that she really wasn't feeling well. She sure as hell looked the part, Grissom thought, eyeing her closely.
Her bed was far too big, she had decided hours ago, for just her. Her arms and legs were spread as far as they could and still she could probably fit another person in the bed with her. That person would obviously have been Nick and goddamn him she was beginning to want him in the worst way. It was then that she berated herself for thinking like a horny teenager. One night and she was already itching, aching for him. But it wasn't merely sex, she was missing the intimacy of just sleeping next to someone and being held onto.
Sighing, Nick rolled over onto his bare stomach, a thin sheet only covering his naked body. He was hotter than hell (tehehe) and couldn't sleep for the life of him. Images of Sara sleeping in his arms, writhing beneath him, and smiling at him, ran through his mind like wildfire. He had never in his life yearned for anything or anyone like he did for Sara at that moment. He had a half mind to get up and drive over to her place, bang on her door, and then bang her up against the wall. It was a plan, he mused to himself, wondering if she would comply. Maybe he wouldn't give her a chance to comply. He would overwhelm her and would be done with her before she even knew what was going on. But Nick wanted her to know what would be going on. He wanted her to know that it was he screwing her and only him. No one else.
Growling, Nick shifted uneasily onto his back and covered his eyes with his hand. It took him another two hours to finally fall asleep and another two days to realize that there was no way that he could live without her.
