xxx
The GymSara paused, breathing heavily and looking down the hill she had just run up for the fifth time. She still had five more hill sprints to do before she was allowed to head back to the gym, but she had to admire the sunrise as it colored the mountains to the east in a warm, orange glow. Bent over, hands on her knees, she could feel the morning's chill rise and dissipate as the rays touched the ground. While hill sprints were always tough, this morning they seemed easy, and either she was getting better at running or the weightless and carefree feeling from breakfast the other morning, the lack of weight on her shoulders, lightened her body as well as her mind. She relived the moment in her head again, her toothy smile stretching as she recalled the feeling of setting aside the burden of her unrequited feelings for her supervisor and how in-control she had felt since.
She had met Brass the next day for their usual shooting date, and he had brought the .45 as he had promised. They had shared a fun afternoon of trying the heavier-caliber gun, and he had been pleased by his prediction of her arm strength being right. It was over dinner later that he had cornered her. "So, you and Warrick seemed… cozy at the diner yesterday." Her half-smirk had belied the 'whatever-are-you-alluding-to' expression in her eyes. "How long did the two of you stay?" he asked, a slight emphasis on two.
"Oh, maybe another hour, if that. I was pretty tired," she had replied blithely, knowing where he was going with his questions and trying to head him off.
"Anything I should know about?" The paternal tone in his voice had made her chuckle, and the shake of her head had told him he wasn't going to get anything on what she was thinking about her co-worker. What she did tell him was the details of her match in two weeks, and his promise to be there for moral support had elicited a beaming smile from her. Thinking of that conversation made Sara realize that she had been standing, watching the sun, for long enough for her breathing to slow and the sweat to cool on her body. Five more, she told herself as she jogged down the hill.
xxx
Warrick plopped the deli bag down in front of Sara as she sat in the conference room, going over her case file for the hundredth time, hoping that this time she would see something new that she had missed. Glancing up with a vexed expression at being interrupted, her narrowed eyes and slight pout taking in her co-worker, and then the bag on the table. "Can I help you, Warrick?"
He didn't try to hide the amusement on his face or in his voice as he took in her attempt to drive him off. "You missed lunch."
"I'll get something if I want it," she replied, her tone warning about invading her privacy.
"Are you saying you aren't hungry? I got your favorite, eggplant parmigian from the Italian deli." His tone was equal parts teasing and prodding, and when he saw her eyes glance over at the bag hungrily, he knew he had her. "Come on, Sara, you need to eat." He saw her about to object again, so he continued. "And you can talk to me about your case while we eat." She looked down at the bag again, smelling the delicious aroma coming from the bag, and mock-glared at him before breaking into an ironic half-smile and sliding the case file to the side and pulling the bag toward her. They talked about the case until Sara's eyes flew wide in excitement, and she jumped up from the table, mumbling a quick thanks as she gathered her file and hurried from the room, leaving half her sandwich uneaten.
Later, in the break room, unbeknownst to her, her wry smile as she read the note saying the rest of her lunch was in the fridge and she had better eat it matched the one on Warrick's face when she had rushed out of the conference room exactly.
xxx
"So you closed the case?" he asked from the door of the locker room, before snagging a seat on the bench beside her. She looked tired, but the strain on her face and the tension in her body was gone.
"Yeah, And thanks, um, for lunch and everything."
"I told you, anytime." She shot him a tired half smile, but the expression reached her eyes and warmed the espresso depths, transforming her entire face. Warrick had always thought Sara was pretty, but he found himself thinking how wonderful she looked with her eyes alight like that. "Are you heading home to get some sleep?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I have to go to the gym for a couple of hours first."
"Why?" His question came out sharper than he expected, and he moderated his tone. "You're exhausted. You can skip a day at the gym, can't you?"
Sara caught her bottom lip between her teeth, looking at him thoughtfully. "Actually, I can't. I…" she glanced around the room to make sure no one could overhear. "I'm training for a match later this month. So I can't miss."
"Wow, really? Is this the reason you're taking the weekend off?" Greg had been making a big deal of her request, speculating for a week on what Sara would do on her weekend off, with every speculation getting more and more outrageous.
"Yeah," she admitted. "The match is Saturday night, and I thought I should have a night to rest before and the night after to recover. Don't, um, tell anyone, ok?" At his puzzled look, she explained, "I'm not comfortable yet sharing too much of my life outside of the lab with people." Her eyes shifted to the ground before she continued. "I still need privacy right now." He nodded in understanding as she shut her locker and left. He left a second later, to get a personal day request from Grissom.
xxx
Frowning as a knock on her door interrupted her packing her gym bag, Sara called an annoyed, "Just a minute" as she walked to the door, mentally reviewing her bag contents, sure she was forgetting something. "Warrick? What are you doing here?" Her mental inventory flew out of her head when he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his broad chest, his green eyes echoing the grin on his face. He was wearing a pair of loose jeans and a button-down shirt that hugged every muscle and showed off a large swath of skin at his throat. Sara had a sudden vision of herself enveloped in those arms, crushed against that chest, and decided that the pre-match jitters were doing a number on her concentration.
"I'm your driver."
"I didn't ask…" she began, puzzled, wondering if he had misunderstood something she had said. They had discussed the upcoming fight a couple of times since the locker room, but she didn't recall any conversation about him going to the fight with her.
He shrugged. "I know. But I'm here anyway."
"But you have to work…"
"Nope. I got the night off." Her mouth fell open at that, and he took to the opportunity to step around her into her apartment. "So I guess you are stuck with me." He noted her half-packed bag and started in on the questions. "Do you have your water bottle? Tape? Wraps? Shorts? Protective gear? Warm-up jacket?"
"Um, yeah, yeah, I think I got everything." Mentally, Sara was trying to catch up as her brain seemed stuck on the fact that Warrick was there.
"Towels?"
"I was just going to get a few extra," she replied, heading to the back of the apartment, to where Warrick assumed her bath and bedroom were. It was then that he noticed the tight lycra shorts and sports bra she was wearing, showing off an amazing stretch of leg and midriff and outlining the few parts concealed in stark detail. Sara reached the exact same conclusion as soon as she saw the sweat suit laid out on her bed, waiting for her to put it on, and she was glad the door hid her embarrassment as she hurriedly put it on, zipping the jacket all the way up to her neck. Stepping back out with a load of towels in her arms, Sara thought she saw a flash of disappointment in Warrick's emerald eyes.
xxx
It was only a three-round match, over in less than fifteen minutes, and Sara once again felt the two halves, mind and body, come together in perfect symmetry as she moved around the ring, watching her opponent's core as they circled. A jab and then right came at her, and she blocked, then ducked, answering with a straight right of her own, catching the shorter woman in the padded headgear right over her jaw. The woman stepped back, surprised, and got her guard up quickly, but the punch had connected. Sara closed the distance, forcing her to back up, snapping a couple more jabs at her head to distract her before connecting with a right cross. Her opponent retreated again, in what was to be typical of the action of the match.
Sitting next to Warrick, Brass watched Sara stalk the blonde woman around the ring relentlessly and ruthlessly, with the same kind of intensity she used to track down elusive clues, and he again marveled at her strength and determination. During the intermission between the second and third round, he cast a glance at the young man sitting beside him, watching the brunette in the ring with the same kind of intensity. Gil might not have realized what Sara offered him, but something in Warrick's eyes told him that Gil was the only one who was going to make that mistake. For his own part, Warrick watched every punch that the woman managed to land on Sara with trepidation, only breathing easy when the bell rang, signaling the end of the match.
xxx
"Impressive," Brass noted as he sipped a glass of Scotch while their waitress removed the dishes of their dinner. "So when do you defend your title?" His gibe managed to cut through the look of quiet reflection on Sara's face and she rolled her eyes comically. They had come to the Bellagio for dinner after the match, but Sara had said very little since she walked out of the locker room, and both Brass and Warrick had watched her worriedly throughout dinner.
"I'm not." Her quiet voice cut the silence that had again descended on the table.
"Sara?" Warrick questioned softly, as her low voice barely carried over the noise from the other diners.
"I'm not." She finally looked up to meet both sets of concerned eyes. "Going to compete again." Her small shake of her head seemed even more emphatic because of the small tight movement.
"Why not?"
Her eyes were once again drawn to her hands, as they had been all night, and she absently rubbed her knuckles with her thumb. "Remember that fight case, that fighter Steele died?" Warrick nodded, remembering the case and that they had worked one it together, but not a lot of details. "You ever wonder why I decided to take up boxing of all things? When I saw that billboard while running, I remembered our conversation about mind and body in the ring that day, and decided that I needed to give the body a try. And when I was asked to compete, I was flattered and I wanted to see if I could do it." Again, the tiniest of movement of her head conveyed so much emphasis. "But competition isn't for me."
"No? You did real well in there."
"Yeah, I did. Maybe I mean, this kind of competition isn't me. I enjoy boxing and training, but intentionally striking someone… isn't something I want to do." Warrick and Brass both nodded in understanding. "When we were working that case, I remember wondering how Laroi Steele got into that ring, and now I know: it was brave," And her wry smile finally reached her eyes, but still didn't dispel all of the sadness that lurked there, "and still incredibly stupid."