Disclaimer: Dang it - still not owning CSI.
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Let me know how I'm doing in a review. Snickers fans- it's getting more angsty before it gets better - if it gets better. And we've got a few more chapters to go.
They lay together easily, as always. The room still smelled like strawberry syrup to Sara, but the showers they had taken had each of them smelling like Nick's soap. She looked over at his profile. His hair was still damp. She liked it better now that he had let it grow back out. He had his eyes closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep because his fingers were making a repeating loop down her stomach and abdomen from her ribcage toher thighs and back. His touch was light and gentle.
"You want to talk about it," he asked. His fingers stopped their trail and he opened his eyes, turning his head toward her. Something in her expression must have caught his attention, because he turned on his side and faced her. She did the same. Nick laidhis hand in the dip that formed at her waist. "Was it rough, processing by yourself?"
"It wasn't that bad at the scene, though I used almost all of my bags. I probably pulled stuff that wasn't relevant. It was almost like working my first scene solo again. I had so many bags the detective had to help me take them to my truck and then into the lab," she murmured. Nick had pulled the covers up over them, but underneath, he had pulled her a little closer and had his hand on her ass.
"Who was it? Not Cavaliere, I hope," Nick said. He assumed it wasn't Brass. Sara would have mentioned him by name. He figured it was Vartan. He knew Sam liked Sara. He also knew Sara liked Vartan's eyes.
"A new guy. Older, from LA. He said I should call him Ozzie," Sara said. Though she wouldn't have guessed it earlier, she was beginning to feel herself dozing off.
"Like Osbourne?" Nick asked. He was imagining a paler than pale homicide detective with stringy dark hair and tattoos.
"Probably like Nelson," Sara said. She had closed her eyes and was appreciating the feel of Nick's firm, warm hand, which was now stroking her back. "Anyway, he looks like an overgrown surfer. And he smiles all the time, even more than you," she said. Nick's hand stopped a moment. She opened her eyes. Nick's hand began moving again. She unconsciously snuggled closer to him. Their bodies wer fully pressed together, and she loved the warmth that spread from him to her.
"So when did it get hard?" Nick asked. He heard Sara giggle, and had to grin. Sometimes the girl had such a dirty mind.
"At the hospital," she finally said. Nick knew the giggles were gone now. He could feel a few of her tears against his chest as she buried her face into him. "She looked bad, Nicky. Really bad." She cried a little bit more, and Nick held her until they both fell asleep.
Nicky dreamed of a Grissom-like detective who grinned sharkily at Sara while Nick could only look behind Plexiglas. The detective opened his mouth wide, revealing rows upon rows of shark teeth. He began emitting a loud, electronic sound.
Nick woke up. The sound was his alarm clock. He hadn't gotten enough sleep between the hour nap he had taken after ball with Warrick and the four hours in his bed. It was still more than he sometimes got without Sara. On his days off, if Sara were with him, he would sleep until she had to get up for work.
He quickly silenced the alarm and jumped into his clothes for work. Sara was watching him sleepily. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders. She snuggled down into them. All he could see was her dark hair spilling onto the pillow.
"I'll see you at shift change," he said softly. He heard a vague murmur of assent in return. He thought she might already be asleep again. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth and gelled his hair as quietly as he could. He was pleased to hear her lightly snore when he walked through the bedroom.
He called his parents on his way to the lab. It was a good time of day to do so, and they liked to hear from him at least once a week. Actually, his mother liked to hear from him everyday, but he had to call once a week or receive a severe butt chewing over the phone. As he sat in the parking lot, listening to his mother talk about all the nieces and nephews, Nick suddenly felt a pang ofguilt that his mother never got to talk about his kids.
"So, Nick, are you dating anyone new?" his mom asked. She always seemed to know what he was thinking, which had gotten him in trouble a lot as a child. Luckily she had been a soft touch for her baby boy. Even his mom couldn't resist his smile.
"Mom," Nick said, the tone just a bit whiny even though he had been going for tough and adult.
"Nick, I hate to think of you flitting from relationship to relationship. When you're 55, with nothing but your job, you'll remember this conversation," she warned. Nick thought about Grissom, and how often he had wondered why the guy didn't just go for it with Sara. Now he was glad Gris hadn't. But still, he thought his old boss was lonely. How could he not be, with nothing but bugs and preserved pigs to keep him company? Nick definitely didn't want to be alone at that age.
"I know, Mom," Nick said. "I just haven't met the right one yet," he said. He thought of Sara, sleeping in his bed, and what his mom would say about their little arrangement. "I've got to go into work now. Tell Dad I'll talk to him next time," Nick said, verbally extricating himself from the conversation. It would stay with him the rest of the evening, tickling the back of his mind.
Sara woke with a start. Nightmares had plagued her on and off during the day, but when she had Nick's warmth, she had been able to settle down and ease back into sleep. Now, with nothing but the sheets against her skin, Anna Gilead's battered form kept slipping into her thoughts. The nightgown and underwear she had gotten from the hospital were waiting for processing. She looked at Nick's clock. If she got up now and went into the lab, she would only be a few hours early. She could process everything and check on results. Maybe she would even have something to give Det. Perrin, Ozzie, to go on. Maybe Anna Gilead would be able to give them a statement.
She got up and jumped in the shower to wash her face and hair. She could never get it to lay right after she had slept on it if she didn't wash it. She put all her stuff back into her bag. She made the bed, and she put the wet towels and bath cloths in Nick's hamper. When she left, no one would be able to tell she had been there. She didn't know why she did this. She knew Nick wouldn't mind if she left some toiletries at his house, or if she hung her towel to dry next to his in the bathroom, but somehow, this kept things casual between them, at least for her. If she started leaving things, it made the situation more permanent. Sara didn't want to commit to that. It left too many things open for the "what ifs".
She set the security alarm as she left and locked the door behind her. The evening air was warm and the sun had yet to completely set in the west. She was surprised when her stomach gave a loud rumble as she pulled her car door closed. She wished she had grabbed something to eat, but she didn't want the hassle of going back into Nicky's house. She decided to drop by the coffee shop down the block.
She was standing in line, debating between an iced coffee and veggie sandwich, or hot mochaccino and a bagel when she heard a friendly voice behind her.
"Imagine seeing you out and about so early." She turned and found herself looking up into bright green eyes.
"Detective Perrin! I was just headed into work," she said.
"I thought we had established that I was Ozzie," he said. Sara's mouth twisted into a smile, in spite of herself.
"Ozzie, then. What are you doing here?" she asked. She wondered if he had any developments.
"Getting breakfast, or supper or whatever the hell it is. I live a couple of blocks away. You live in this neighborhood, Ms. Sidle?" he asked.
"Uh, no. A friend of mine lives near here. And it's Sara," she said. She then turned and ordered the iced coffee and a veggie pita with havarti dill cheese. Ozzie ordered the same. "So, are you headed into the office?" Sara asked.
"Yeah. I couldn't sleep any later. Kept thinking of that girl," he said. Though Sara hadn't planned on eating at the shop, she let Ozzie steer her towards a small table. She figured it wouldn't hurt to let her food digest without road rage interfering, plus they could get a head start on a plan for the case that evening. As they sat, waiting for their order, she took a good look at Ozzie for what seemed to be the first time. Last night she had been too focused on working the case solo to have anything but impressions of the man.
He was older than she had first thought. The graying hair that was artfully arranged and the lines on his face put him closer to 50 than 40 or 45. He was a slim man, with nice broad shoulders and a back that tapered down to his hips. He wasn't skinny, though, and she thought he probably worked hard to keep a middle age spread from accumulating at his waist. He had long legs and moved with athletic grace. She put him at 6'2" or better, and still thought he was probably a surfer when he was in LA. There was no wedding band on his left hand, and he had a confidant air about him that immediately said "player" to Sara. He reminded her of Warrick a little bit, between the player confidence, height and light green eyes.
He obviously paid a lot of attention to his clothes. Most of the detectives favored dark suits, but Ozzie had on a lightweight, stone colored suit with a green shirt almost the same color as his eyes. The suit looked crisp and cool, and everything was smart and pressed about him. Sara felt a little dark and gloomy beside the man. She had on a maroon knit top with black pants. All wrinkle free fabrics that she could grab out of the closet without worrying about it.
He stood and grabbed their orders and brought them back to the table. He handed Sara her sandwich, coffee, and a few napkins. He took a bite of his own pita.
"This is pretty good," he said between bites. "I never would have thought of havarti dill." Sara took a bite as well and was embarrassed to hear her stomach rumble hopefully. "Did you even eat last night?" Ozzie asked. Sara rolled her eyes.
"Yes," she said, swallowing her bite. "I ate. Thank you." Her tone was acidic. Ozzie gave her one of his ubiquitous grins. She wondered that the man's jaw didn't ache.
"So you didn't obsess too much? But you are going in early to check the progress," he said. He smiled more broadly when Sara nodded. She wanted to wipe that look right off his face. She hated that he was reading her so easily, and this was the second day they had known each other. She decided he was smart, but way too cheerful for a homicide detective.
"I was going to check results, process the vic's clothes, and call you with anything I had. Then I was going to ask about whether the girl had given a statement or not, and review the boyfriend's statement with you and compare notes," she said.
"Wow. You've got our day, or night, all planned out. You keep this up and we'll have this solved by the time your shift actually starts," he teased. Sara couldn't help but smile, covering her mouth with a napkin to hide the bite of sandwich she had just taken.
Ozzie had already finished his. He was a quick eater, but everything was neat and mess free around him. Sara's part of the table seemed to be strewn with napkins and crumbs. It was something Nick always teased her about.
"So, I'll head to the hospital and take Anna Gilead's statement if I can. I will at least check on her condition. Then I'll come by the lab. Hopefully you'll have something to share, and we'll see if we can pick apart the boyfriend's statement." Ozzie smirked. "You see, I can plan too." Sara thought he had a nice smirk. It seemed more genuine than all the smiles he tossed around. Sara thought that for a moment, she was seeing the real, smart aleck Ozzie. She liked it better than playa Ozzie.
"So you think it's the boyfriend," she said. "Be hard to prove without a statement from the girl. He has every reason to have fingerprints and trace in the house." Sara's mind started churning. What if there was something from the bruising pattern on the girl's torso? She was drumming her fingers on the table without knowing it. She could already feel herself ready to take down the little punk in the interrogation room.
"Easy there, killer. We don't know anything yet," Ozzie said. He had a slightly alarmed look and Sara knew he must have been thinking that she was totally psycho. And she was, if she admitted it. She was letting the anger inside again. She had to focus and let the evidence lead her, not her emotions. "We'll meet up at the lab, agreed?" he asked.
"I'll be there," Sara said.
A/N: I love Sara when she is fully in the throes of a case. I hope it shows. We've got several chapters to go, so thanks for sticking with me. The next chapter is going to be more on Sara's case and she and Nicky at work. All you Snicker's fans should go re-read forensicsfan's "Take Me Out to the Ballgame". It is cute and sweet - just right! Then come back here for the bittersweet, because it's going to get more bitter. Remember, I am trying to get better at angst here!
FoxRox: thanks for the positive comments. Sara does deserve more than a booty call, even if it's a booty call with Nick. Let's see if Perrin can get the job done, or if Nicky comes through.
Anushka: I love getting your reviews. Thanks for sticking with it. I'm glad I might have made you indecisive about what you want to happen.Hopefully that means I am doing a good job with the story.
Forensicsfan: I loved seeing your review. I'm glad I could brighten your day, though the next few chapters may not do the trick. I've loved your latest two stories, by the way.