Disclaimer is back in Chapter One, but I'll reiterate that I don't own any character from the show "CSI."
"Hey, Nick," Greg shuffled into the locker room and hitched his locker open.
Nick turned around as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Hey, man. What's up?"
"Eh, not much." Greg sat down. "Sara roped me in to taking Jules and Grace back-to-school shopping. I took 'em to the Strip, showed them Caesar's, Aladdin's, Fashion Show, and then basically all the casinos. I'm shot, dude. Well," he reiterated, "I guess I made her hand over the duties. She mentioned they needed clothes, and she's completely wiped."
"Yeah?" Nick said curiously.
"Yeah. This case—the swimmer one—she's really…being Sara about it."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You ever—worry about Sara?" Greg questioned hesitantly.
Nick signed and leaned against the locker. "Yeah. A lot, actually. 'Specially now, with the girls, and Lilly…" he straightened, "It's just something that you worry about. You just don't want to admit you're worried about Sara."
"If she found out, she shoot you," Greg volunteered helpfully.
"Exactly," Nick confirmed, and leaned back again, thinking. "I think I might go over there. Make sure they're all okay. Those girls are real sweethearts. This whole damn mess is a shame. Did you see Lilly?"
Greg shrugged bleakly. "Still disappearing."
"Hot damn," Nick said. Just then, Sara bustled into the locker room. "Sara," he said, surprised.
She turned. He tried to get a good look at her, but her hair was hanging in front of her face, like she hadn't washed it recently. As if she could read his mind, she opened her locker and began to brush it back into a ponytail, using the mini-mirror as a guide. Her face was certainly paler, and she seemed to completely lack makeup. Her cheeks seemed a little hollower, her eyes a little sadder—but maybe he was just imagining things. "Hey Nick. Hey Greg. Thanks again for this afternoon."
"It was like forty-five minutes ago," Greg replied bewilderedly. "How did you get out of your pajamas, shower, and get here in forty five minutes?"
"Magic." She smiled. "I wanted to get some test results—the substance under her fingernails."
"The results would have been here if you had waited two hours," Greg said pointedly.
"You're here five hours before shift starts," It wasn't a challenge, more like a statement.
"Catherine called me in," he shrugged. "I came straight from your place. She was at the end of her rope." He stood up and headed for the door. "I've got to go meet Warrick at a crime scene."
"See ya, Greg," she called as he was leaving.
"Take a nap, Sar." He called back, and the echoes of his footfalls faded away.
"So," Nick said, "It's been about two weeks."
Sara looked panicked for a second, but wet her lips and cautiously said, "Since what? Is there something I should remember?"
"Nah, not really. You just told me to ask you again how you were feeling in two weeks."
Relief and sadness flickered over her face. "Oh, yeah. I remember now." She sat down heavily. Apparently, all someone needed to do was ask. "I'm in deeper than I thought, Nicky." There was just something about Nicky that made him a regular Veritaserum. "Lilly's sicker than I honestly expected. And, she's really going to die. I never—I just never thought past the next day. As usual, I guess. But I never—now, suddenly, I'm thinking all these parental thoughts, and I've got no clue what the answers are. Or what questions I'm supposed to answer. Lilly's just so weak. I'm taking care of her, too. I don't mind, of course, I expected care giving or whatever they call it to be involved. But now it's here and it's real, and it's," she looked up at Nick. "It's scary. It's so scary. And sad. The girls are so great. But I'm going to mess up. I can't handle all of this. It's so hard. I'm not strong enough."
"Oh, Sar." He pulled her closer to him, and she came willingly, but she was like stone. Her body was robotic and hard, as if she was trying very hard not to cave into her emotions. "You know what you need?"
"Probably a vacation, some sleep, a coffee, this case to get solved, a pay raise, and to wake up and realize this has all been a bad dream." She stopped. "Wait. Can I take that back? I want to. I'm glad, I guess, to meet Lilly and the girls—again. I guess that's good part. It's bittersweet, at the very least."
"There's nothing wrong with something good coming from this," he said, "But what I was going for was you need blueberry pancakes."
"I have chocolate chip waffles every morning for breakfast. More carbs is exactly the opposite of what I need."
"Afraid of gaining weight and being a normal size, Sidle?" he teased gently.
"Whether my butt looks good in Levis right now is really the least of my worries," she retorted.
"Whatever. You need to be taken out for breakfast, or dinner, or whatever the hell we call meals around here anymore."
"Is this a proposition, Nicky?"
"Yeah." He said. "After your shift. If someone doesn't send you home for being exhausted before that."
"Deal." She said. She was too tired to argue. "Where do we meet?"
"I'll pick you up here." He said. At her wary look, he continued, "You shouldn't drive. And I doubt you would even leave."
"You worry too much, Nicky." She said.
"You've got a lot to deal with. Someone has to look after you, too." He said.
"Thank you," she said quietly, before wriggling out of his embrace, "for caring." She walked to the door and stood framed by the light. "You're one in a million, Nicky."
"Hey, so are you, Sar." He said. "We all admire the hell out of you for what you're doing for Lilly and Grace and Jules."
She blinked a few times, almost as if she was going to cry. "I've got to go check on that test result."
He nodded solemnly. The whole exchange had been way too emotional for Sara; "I'll see you after shift."
"Yeah," she said absently, before walking off. He couldn't help but notice her butt still looked damn good in those Levis.