Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to CSI or it's affiliates. I am merely a fan whose would like to take already established characters into a story of my own rendering.
Note: Thanks to everyone eho has supported me once again. I'm really enjoying this story. But be forwarned. There is a section that gets a little dark. It's not really part of the story as a whole but I felt it was needed. So enjoy and :)
Releases
Chapter 5
Since the last time Nick had been to Sara's apartment, her mood had been one of both joy and fear. She found it easier to leave work each morning. It was OK to sometimes let a report wait until tomorrow. Even Sandy Rogers case, although still bothersome, wasn't always the object of her obsession. It was shared with the thought of Nick and what to cook for him on Friday.
It was Tuesday.
Being obsessive as she was, Sara had gone out and bought every kind of cooking book imaginable. Italian, Chinese, French, Cajun, even American. Figuring that since Nick was from Texas, he might enjoy some good old American barbecue.
Only problem was that Sara had rarely even eaten barbecue let alone cooked any. Sara sat in the break room before her shift started reading about different marinades and sauces and what was better. Meat alone or with sauce. The eternal debate.
Maybe it would be best to just go with a salad and burgers.
Nick walked into the break room unnoticed by Sara, which gave him the advantage of peeking at the cookbook she was reading. Texas BBQ. Nick felt a small smile appear on his face. Sara hates meat. She'd been a vegetarian since she first came to Las Vegas and endured a hard night of decayment from one of Grissom's pigs. She swore off meat from that night on.
It suddenly occurred to Nick that Sara was doing something special for him. Could it be that she might feel for him the same way he felt for her? He calmed himself when Sara noticed he was standing there, desperately trying to hide the cookbook from sight. Nick's smile brightened.
"So, you thought of what to cook on Friday yet?"
"Maybe." Sara said, grinning a half grin that could not be read. "But I'm having to prepare myself for the possibility that I may have to buy raw meat."
"Hey, it's not like you have to go and kill the cow or anything." The remark didn't get the response he was looking for. Sara now had a lopsided look of I can't believe you just said that on her face. He had to fix the situation fast. "Man, Sara I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive."
Sara looked away, "Hey, it's OK. Really. It's not always easy to understand where I'm coming from. But you know, at the end of the day, after seeing so much raw meat hanging from the bones of victims, it's nice to just go home and eat a salad."
Nick understood. As much as he craved steak, there were nights that only veggies would do. Sometimes, only a beer and country music were enough to drown away the images he saw on a daily basis.
Maybe cooking wasn't the best idea for Sara as a release from work. Especially if she thought that she would have to cook meat just to please him. Cooking had become a chore for Sara. It was just another thing to fret over. What to cook, what ingredients to use, what part of the body to photograph, what evidence was relevant, what wasn't.
Cooking was just like CSI. Nick smiled when he realized that Sara needed a release from her release.
Sara noticed the small smirk on Nick face as she tried to hide the cookbook. She wanted the dinner to be a surprise. The smile was a good opportunity to change the subject. "Happy?"
"No, amused."
Sara knew she'd been caught. "If you don't want ribs, that's OK. I can think of something else."
"No, not the food. Just the obsession."
"Come again?"
"Sara, I think cooking may not have been the best idea for you as a release from work."
Sara's face was confused. Her first thoughts were of being rejected. Perhaps Nick thought better of what almost happened the other night at her apartment. She had wanted to kiss him so much and she was sure Nick felt the same way. Sara looked away and fixated her eyes on a mug near her.
Nick caught the diversion and the silence. Sara thought he was rejecting her.
So she did have feelings for him.
Unless she was just upset at the thought of losing her teacher. There really was only one way to find out. "I just think that you need something that you don't have to think about so much."
Sara's face lit up a bit. His eyes were genuine and caused a smile to slowly appear. "So you have any more bright ideas."
"Not yet, but we'll still meet up on Friday night and I'll have something new for you then."
"OK. What about dinner?"
"How about we cook some more lasagna together?"
"Movie?"
"African Queen?"
"Time?"
"Seven?"
"See ya then." Sara stood up and thrust the cookbook in Nick arms.
Nick looked down and turned to call back to Sara who was now walking down the hallway. "Hey this was mine."
"I know!"
When Sara arrived home on Friday morning, she thought of nothing but the massage of a shower and the warmth of her bed. She finally handed in the Sandy Rogers case to Grissom.
Unsolved.
It was a day like today that Sara longed for the release that everyone seemed to have. All week long, she'd tried to cook a little, but she was either disinterested or obsessed. Last light she threw down the whisk and deemed that cooking, although fun when others were around, was not the release she'd hoped for and called for takeout.
Having eaten her veggie omelet from the diner down the street, Sara decided it was time for that long overdue shower. The water was crisp and almost awakened her with the smells of her shampoo and soap. Sara turned the water to a warmer temperature and allowed the shower to become a sauna. She felt rejuvenated and relaxed as she dried herself off, thinking only of cool sheets and a dreamless sleep.
But Sara did dream. She dreamed of Sandy. She was calling out to Sara, asking for help. Sara stood helpless behind the bars of a jail cell. One one side were the voices of all the victims she couldn't help find their killer or assaulter. One the other side, were the murders and felons that got away.
Sara saw the villains moving towards the victims, who seemed glued in place. Sara glanced around the room and found an old time key ring with several keys. She picked it up and tried each key.
Each time she tried a key, a killer found his prey. Each time it wasn't the right key, the killer killed again. One by one, Sara watched in agony as the victims she tried to save in life she was failing again in death.
Sara finally got to the final key. The only victim left was Sandy, with her unknown assailant closing in on her. Sara reached for the lock but dropped the keys on the ground. Sandy let out a futile scream as she died once again. "NO!" Sara yelled and dove for the keys. She had to get out. One her hands and knees, Sara reached for the keys through the bars, but her hand was crushed by an unknown foot.
Sara looked up to see her mother reach down and take the keys. She watched in a silent horror as her mother found the final key and opened the bars.
Sara stood silently in front of Laura Sidle for a moment before rushing to hold her tight. Her mother hugged her daughter back in a fire of tears. The embrace ended as Laura cupped her daughter's chin and caught her gaze.
"Remember that sometimes the bad ones get away."
Sara started at the emptiness of her mother's eyes. It was the same hollow look they'd had at her trial. She'd become nothing but a shell. "What about the innocent?"
Laura let go of her daughter and started to back away. "Sometimes they die without a voice to tell those left behind where to find the answers."
Laura started to fade. Sara ran to where her mother was, but all she found was an empty black room. "What about you? You were a victim too?" Sara cried into the darkness.
"Sometimes the good die. Sometimes they go to jail."
Knock knock.
Sara fell to her knees and cried. But her mother's voice resonated still.
Knock knock.
"Sometimes they break free and become the voice of the victim."
Knock knock.
Sara awoke with a start. She heard a faint sound of knocking. It took a second to realize someone was at her door. Racing out of her room she opened the door, wearing nothing but pajama pants and a tank shirt with no bra, much to Nick's amusement.
"Well I win that bet."
"What bet?"
Nick let himself in the apartment and walked to the kitchen to drop off the groceries he'd brought. He turned back and gave Sara a once over. "Greg thinks you sleep naked. Warrick said you sleep in your underwear. I said you sleep in pants and a shirt of some sort. Looks like I won."
"OK, so you won." Sara started back towards her room to change. She shut the door. Nick started to unpack the bags.
A few minuted later, Sara emerged in jeans and a feminine t-shirt that read Harvard. "So what made you think I slept in those clothes?" Her voice was that of an unconcerned woman, but Nick knew better. The CSI in her was dying to know the answers.
"Because if someone entered your house uninvited, you'd at least want to be dressed enough to get out of bed and shoot his ass without having to worry about dressing before the cops arrived.
Nick was right. Sara dropped the subject. "So what did you bring?"
"Frozen lasagna and ice cream."
"What happened to cooking?"
"Cooking can wait. We have a movie to watch and things to discuss."
"Like?"
"Like nature. Like camping. Like photography."
"OK, I'm lost." Sara started to notice that Nick was hiding something behind his back.
Nick smiled bright. "Next weekend, it just so happens that you, me, Greg and Warrick all have the night off. I thought we'd go camping and try out some photography."
"Don't we do enough of that at work?" Sara wasn't liking the idea yet. She needed convincing. She also caught the glimpse of something black that Nick was still hiding behind him.
Nick loved the challenge. "Wouldn't you like to use those skills we've learned with a camera to photograph something live? Something beautiful."
He took what he'd been hiding from behind his back. It was a camera and before Sara could do anything but smile, Nick caught a perfect Sara pose on digital media. He put the camera down and moved closer to Sara and looked down into her brown eyes. "Something like you."
Sara's heart skipped a beat. She knew she could kiss him right now. Should she? Would it be forward? Was it what Nick wanted? Her hesitation did not go unnoticed by Nick who back off with a disappointed look on his face.
Too late.
"So, let's fire up the oven and watch Octapussy!"
Sara let the moment go. A quick fleeting thought of her dream came back to her. Her mother's voice. Sometimes they break free. Perhaps camping and photography was a good idea after all.
"I thought I requested Africa Queen?"
"You did, but apparently someone else did too. So I got James Bond."
"You would."
"Hey, you got any popcorn?"
"Only the healthy stuff."
"That's OK. You got butter."
Sara joined Nick on the couch a few minutes later with a large bowl filled with buttered popcorn,.
The two friends enjoyed a perfect evening of Bond, lasagna, ice cream, popcorn, and beer.
And no thoughts of work from either CSI. No cases. No schedules. No paperwork. No coworkers. Nothing.
It was a first for both.