Disclaimer: Not mine. Like I've said, if it was then Nick wouldn't have been left out of the shower scene. The title is something that he says to Grissom, based around ep 1x7 "Blood Drops".

A/N: I had a theory about the first season and ran with it :D

Normal Would Be Nice

'You could be a bit more subtle.'

Nick turned to face Warrick with a frown, having not clearly heard what his friend was muttering on about. They were in a meeting that Sara had just left, on her way back to the hospital for the little girl Brenda while the rest of them had stayed to hear the details of Grissom's next move in the case.

'What?' asked Nick, but Warrick only shook his head and said nothing more.

He and Cath shared a smirking sort of look though, which made Nick wonder what kind of trouble he was in. As soon as Grissom dismissed them, he followed Warrick down the hallway and demanded to know what the comment had been about.

'I'm just saying, man,' Warrick grinned.

'Saying what?'

'Well, you just can't keep your eyes off her, can you?'

'Who, Cath?'

'Excuse me?' said Catherine, who had been following both men down the hall without either of them realising.

'No, not Cath,' Warrick chuckled.

'I'm sure he meant Ms Sidle,' she drawled, sounding almost disapproving.

'What are you talking about?' said Nick in the same confused voice.

'Come off it.' Warrick rolled his eyes. 'You like her.'

'Well, yeah I like her-' he began.

'No, you like her, Nicky. You think I can't tell? Everyone knows.'

'Well, everyone is wrong. Sorry to disappoint you all, she's a nice girl but not my type,' shrugged Nick as he disappeared through the next door, leaving his two co-workers standing alone.

'Who's he trying to fool?' scoffed Warrick.

Without hesitation Cath replied, 'Himself.'

The case involved a whole family of murders, a wife, husband and two sons. Earlier on at the beginning of the shift, Nick had vented some of his anger by smashing his fist into a door. He didn't really know why, since it hadn't felt good at the time and was certainly not any better now. He sat in the locker room when it was time to go, clutching an ice pack to his hand, and couldn't bring himself to get up and go home.

Grissom touched Nick's shoulder briefly on his way out. 'It'll be back to normal in the morning.'

'Normal would be nice,' answered Nick, but Grissom had already gone.

It had been one of those weeks, and he was just not in the mood to deal with everything. Warrick's comments about Sara had made him a lot more uneasy. He was right, of course, but Nick had hoped that his feelings weren't that obvious…

Nothing was ever a secret in this damn place.

He had to admit that Sara had a point, and sleeping together hadn't exactly been the smartest idea. Then again, Nick didn't think anyone could have stopped it happening either. Sara positively stumped him. She was sharp and funny and she wore her confidence like a shield that was both sexy and heart-rending. Nick hadn't realised he'd preferred brunettes until the most beautiful one he'd ever met agreed to have coffee with him.

She was new to town and a friendly invitation had seemed innocent enough. The attraction between them was clear from the beginning, and the whole time they'd worked together on the pledge case the tension had intensified, but Nick never thought once about seriously taking it anywhere. Firstly, they barely knew one another, secondly they were co-workers, thirdly if Nick had wished for something to happen (which he did) he would have wanted that something to be meaningful (which it wasn't). From an outsider's point of view, sex on her living room floor was probably anything but truly meaningful.

From Nick's point of view, it was more baffling. He'd never had that much difficulty with controlling his lust since he was a teenager; he was surprised that Sara wasn't disgusted with him because he was certainly disgusted with himself.

'Stop apologising!' she'd told him.

Nick, who had been saying sorry for the past five minutes while attempting to locate his socks, sat down on the couch and rubbed his face tiredly.

'I really am sorry.'

'Yeah, I got that,' she smirked, brushing out her hair. Dark, waving locks that whispered of warm, vanilla scents. Shampoo, maybe?

He tried to focus on what she was saying.

'You're very, very, very, very sorry,' grinned Sara. 'Was it that bad?'

That was probably the precise moment that Nick realised the extent of the danger he was in. She'd tripped him up good, all right.

'No!' he choked. 'No, I-'

'I was kidding,' said Sara. 'Just forget about it, okay? It's not that big a deal. It probably shouldn't have happened, but now that it has, there's nothing we can do except move on, right?'

'Uh,' said Nick. 'Right. Yeah, yeah, you're right.'

She sat down beside him. 'Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't keep my hands off you.'

He had to laugh at that. 'Well, not that I can blame you, but same here.'

'So we're good?'

'We're good,' Nick agreed.

'Coming into work now?'

'Ah shit, all my stuff is at home.'

'Well you'd better hurry up. Shift starts in fifteen minutes. And hey-' Sara stopped in the doorway, looking back at him. 'It's okay if we don't tell Grissom about this, right? Or anyone else.'

Nick nodded, a strange tightness was beginning to seize hold of his throat. 'Wouldn't dream of it.'

Since then they hadn't seen much of each other. Nick wondered if maybe Sara was avoiding him, but perhaps he was just thinking about it too much.

It was useless, anyway. Nick felt like punching his other hand into a locker. He needed to go home. He needed sleep. Or something.

What he probably didn't need was Sara showing up on his doorstep half an hour later, just after he'd stripped down to his boxers, but there she was looking upset and he wasn't going to not let her in.

'You okay?'

'Yeah, fine,' she answered, sounding far more subdued than usual. 'Just wanted to see a friendly face, you know. You're not wearing pants.'

'I was going to take a shower. Excuse me for a minute.'

When Nick returned after having dressed, Sara was looking at the photo frames in his living room.

'Do you want something to drink?' he offered. 'I make a really great cup of tea.'

She followed him into the kitchen. 'I wouldn't have pegged you for the tea type.'

'You think I'm the beer type, huh? For your information, I'm both.'

'Tea would be nice.'

He put the kettle on boil and brought out the sugar and teaspoons while she sat on a stool and watched him.

'I heard about your last case,' she said quietly. 'Grissom told me.'

Nick glanced up at her uneasily; he'd been trying to forget about the jealous wife who had threatened him with a gun at a crime scene. 'That was terrifying,' he tried to joke, but his voice hitched on the last syllable.

He could see the brightness swimming in her eyes as she replied, 'I'm so sorry.'

Nick put down the silver spoon and walked over to Sara, pulling her into a hug. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, or even appropriate but he didn't think he could just stand there and watch her cry. The kettle began to whistle and clicked off; tears ran onto his shoulder.

'She's so little and alone,' Sara whispered, 'who's going to look after her?'

'Someone will, I'm sure.'

'You don't understand.'

Nick touched her hair. 'I'm trying.'

She pulled away and wiped her cheeks, looking self-conscious and uncomfortable. 'How's your hand?'

'What? Oh. Fine. Grissom said it'll be back to normal soon.'

Sara gave a bitter smile. 'What's normal?'

'Exactly.'

After tea, Sara fell asleep on his couch while they were watching television. Nick found a blanket and pulled it over her shoulders. He recognised that in a way, he'd lost her, but at least he had time to make up for it.

He figured she could probably use a good friend.

Fin.