The Living Room

Sara laid a hand on Warrick's arm, smiling up at him, "Ok, you win. I'll stay with you." When he raised his eyebrows to signal his triumph, she continued, stubbornly. "But only because of Coltrane."

"Coltrane?" came from Catherine as she watched their ease with each other with interest. Nick and Sara had been flirty when Sara had first arrived, but that had slowed a lot last year during the whole promotion competition. Warrick and Sara had, after a rocky start, been friendly, but Catherine couldn't remember their interactions this friendly, almost flirting, before. She glanced over at Grissom, whose impassive expression seemed to indicate that he wasn't picking up the same vibe she was.

Sara's broad smile as she turned back to the rest of the team surprised Catherine, and she once again marveled at how quickly Warrick was able to both make her stay with him and help her mood immensely. This could get interesting, she thought to herself, as Nick caught her eye with an exaggerated lift of his eyebrows and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

"Coltrane is the kitten." Sara suddenly yawned, hugely, and she glanced around the table, embarrassed.

"Sara, I want you to take the next couple of nights off—"

"Grissom…"

"—you'll need daytime hours to contact your insurance agency, call rental agencies, and replace some of your belongings. So just take the days off and get yourself situated, ok?" Sara gave an exasperated sigh, but nodded her head. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll call if we get swamped."

"But you can always have me running back-up," Greg announced as he stopped in the doorway.

"Yeah, cuz you are so Sara's equal to be her replacement? Credit that."

Sara stifled another huge yawn, and started to make her way toward the door of the break room. "Warrick, I'll see you at your place in about an hour. I need to do a little bit of shopping, pick up some essentials."

"Maybe I should go with?"

"I don't need you following me around while I'm picking up new underwear and shampoo."

"Yeah, she needs me!" Greg laughed. "Especially if you are going to pick up something lacy and black." Sara was too far away, but Warrick read her expression and smacked Greg in the back of the head. "Hey! What was that for?"

Sara ignored Greg, slipping past both of them. "Warrick, I said I'd stay. I'll be there. Go home and check on Coltrane and fix breakfast or something."

"Pancakes?"

Her answering smile was as wide as his as they remembered their first meal together at his house. "Sounds great."

He thought of something quickly, and called after her. "Sara, are you going by the grocery?"

"I can stop by." A teasing smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Why? Are you out of chocolate syrup?" The instant the words were out of her mouth, Sara realized how they would sound to their co-workers, and Catherine's mouth hanging open confirmed her suspicion. Sara bit her bottom lip as a flush spread over her cheeks. "For the pancakes," she emphasized lamely, knowing that her slip was about to net her a months worth of ribbing—at least—from the expressions on Nick's and Greg's face.

Warrick cringed in sympathy as he saw the blush flame across her cheeks. "Um, no, bananas." Sara nodded and was striding away quickly down the hallways, looking doggedly ahead of her. "At least two pounds," he yelled to her retreating back.

"So when did you make Sara pancakes, man?" Nick asked suggestively.

Warrick glare didn't seem to deter Nick, so he crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at the shorter man, his expression decidedly cool. "A couple of weeks ago, she came by before shift and we had breakfast. No. Big. Deal."

"I dunno, bro. You don't make me pancakes before shift. Maybe that's only something the two of you do. With chocolate syrup."

From behind them, Greg chanted. in a sing-song voice, "Warrick and Sara, sitting in a tree." Warrick stopped and spun around so fast Greg ran into him, and then took several quick steps back when he saw the anger in Warrick's eyes.

"Cut it out, Greg. Sara just lost her home and saw several people she lived with on a slab today. I'm her friend to her and that's it. Don't," he warned, "make anything out of that. And don't give her a hard time about our living arrangement. She doesn't need that right now." He paused, making eye contact with Greg, before looking over Greg's shoulder to Nick. "Are we clear?" Greg nodded, and Nick held up his hands in a disarming gesture. With that, Warrick spun on his heel and headed toward the locker room.

xxx

The first thing Warrick did when he got home was take the box and gym bag out of his SUV, setting Sara's bag gloves, Cds, a photo album, and a few odds and ends he had rescued from the apartment on the back patio to air out. The gym clothes he gathered together and took into the laundry room, the smell of smoke trailing him into the house. He changed into a pair of jogging pants and a white t-shirt before loading the washer, adding extra detergent in hopes that it would remove the stench of smoke that seemed to linger on everything.

He had almost forgotten Coltrane, until he heard a tiny meow coming from the spare bedroom. Sara had set up everything in the one room, Picking up the small, furry body, Warrick rubbed the sensitive spot under his chin as he made his way down the stairs to start breakfast; he was surprised by the rustle of shopping bags by the door, and looked up to see Sara drop a much smaller load of bags than she had had last night for the cat down by the door.

"You didn't get very much," he commented as she walked past him into the kitchen with a grocery bag.

Setting the bag down, Sara turned to face him and that's when he noticed the deep, dark circles under her eyes. "I" she waved her hand wearily in the vague direction of the bags, "really didn't feel like shopping. I…" her words trailed off as her eyes looked up and away, scrunched as if she was trying to hold in tears. Suddenly she was wrapped up in his arms, overwhelmed by the smell of soap and laundry detergent as she buried her face into his shirt. When her sobbing lessened, the first sensation Sara became aware of was his heartbeat, a solid, comforting beat emanating from warm expanse of his chest. Then it was his hands, rubbing her back soothingly, that she noticed, and his quiet words of comfort. Given her past with men, which she often characterized as one long futile string of heartbreak and misery punctuated with long stretches of loneliness, it was amazing to her how safe she felt in the circle of his arms. Don't get used to this, Sidle, You know where this would end up, she cautioned herself, but she still found herself reluctant to move.

So she stood there and listened to his heartbeat for a few more minutes and enjoyed the transitory feeling of security before she sighed and whispered "Thank you."

Warrick didn't release her immediately. Instead, he tightened his hold and kept her close. "I won't pretend to understand." His voice was a pleasant vibration against her ear, and she let it travel through her body, not wasting much time on deciphering his exact words. "I've always had a home, a place, and I get the sense that you haven't had that in a long time." She didn't say anything, neither confirming nor denying his words, letting them rumble through her instead. "But you have a home here, with me, and with Coltrane," he indicated the kitten who was snaking his way between their legs and purring up a storm, "for as long as you need." They stood in silence for a few more moments, before Sara roused herself and told him, "Thanks." Her voice was firmer, and she finally managed to leave his arms.

"Hey, why don't you go take a quick shower while I fix breakfast?" He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger there, trying to preserve the moment where she would let him touch her. As if afraid to face him after her crying bout, she just nodded before stepping away. Left standing in the suddenly too-empty kitchen, Warrick wondered if she realized how close he had been to sliding his hand around to the back of her neck so he could tilt her head back and kiss her. He wondered if she would have let him, and what it would have meant if she had.

xxx

Opening the front door, a delicious smell wafted through the house to greet Warrick the next morning. Sara had eaten, saying very little between yawns, and then disappeared to her room the entire day and he hadn't seen her before he left, but the living room looked like she had been up for some time: three of his backlog of forensic journals were on the coffee table and if he didn't know any better, his Playstation had been taken out.

But the sight in the kitchen was what really tipped him off: two dozen muffins and fresh loaf of bread were sitting on a cooling rack, and Sara appeared to be pulling another loaf out of the oven.

"Hey," he called, a little uncertainly, surprised by the domestic scene in front of him. Warrick hadn't known Sara could cook, and he never would have pictured her as the kind of person to have the patience for baking. When she returned his greeting absentmindedly, intent on checking the bread, he had to laugh at himself. Like Sara hasn't been one surprise after another lately, he told himself, so of course she bakes. At this point, I shouldn't be surprised if she's secretly managing a sports book in her free time.

He chuckled out loud when she turned and he saw the long streak of flour stretching across her forehead and into her hair from where she had wiped stray strands of hair out of her eyes with her forearm, a habitual motion he had seen her do a hundred times at work when she had gloves on and needed to get her hair out of her eyes.

"What?"

Warrick snagged a kitchen towel and wiped the flour off while she carefully levered the loaf out of the pan, seemingly unaware of how close he was standing. A huge sigh escaped her lips, and she looked up at him with a contented smile. "All done."

"Smells great." Noticing a fresh pot of coffee, Warrick made a strategic retreat to fill them both a cup, fixing hers with sugar and cream before handing it to her. "What did you make?"

"Banana nut muffins, blueberry muffins, and two loafs of whole-grain wheat bread." She grabbed a basket and some napkins from the counter. "Hungry?"

"Starving," he replied, following her out to the couch. Settling in and helping himself to a muffin, Warrick asked, teasingly, "You going all domestic on me?"

An unreadable expression crossed her face and she toyed with the napkin in her hands. "I used to help out at my parent's bed and breakfast when I was young. We did a lot of baking. The process is… comforting."

Warrick sampled the muffin, and then looked at her, wide-eyed. "This is great, wow." She smiled in response, but the light didn't reach her eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked, his tone serious.

"Yeah, I'm alright." She set her half-eaten muffin down and picked up the coffee cup, playing with the rim. "I was in that store yesterday when it hit me, just everything, gone in an eyeblink. It hadn't really hit me before then for some reason. I just picked up a bottle of shampoo…" She shook herself, as if to rid herself of the thoughts. "From the moment I woke last night, I've been avoiding thinking about that. Hence," here she swept her hand to indicate the basket of muffins, "baking."

"And Playstation."

She mock-glared at him. "I like the driving games."

"Ah, so that's where you developed your, um, unique driving skill." He knew if he had been in reach, she would have smacked him, but instead she threw him a haughty look and picked up her muffin, pointedly ignoring him. Glad he had managed to cajole her into a better mood, he finished his first muffin and started on another, noticing but not commenting on her pleased smirk. Apparently, his distrust of her culinary skills had not been as hidden as he had thought.

"I'm thinking of buying a house." Sara's words broke the long silence. "I was thinking about what you said about not having a home, and you're right. It's been a long time, and maybe it's time to change that."

"Sounds good. Where are you thinking?"

"I don't know. Beyond the vague idea that I don't want to move into another apartment that feels like a temporary stopping point in a long road, I haven't made any decisions. Today, I need to call my insurance agents, do some more shopping, and maybe call some realtors. And I should go to the gym – I cancelled yesterday."

Warrick nodded in understanding. "Yeah, ease yourself back into your routine and take your time."

"I should look about a place quickly…"

"No rush," Warrick interrupted her firmly. "You can stay here as long as you need."

"Are you sure?"

"I like having you and Coltrane around." His grin widened, showing a wide expanse of teeth, his light eyes twinkling. "Especially if you are going to be all Betty Crocker around here. Do you do laundry too?"

The throw pillow caught him squarely in the chest.