"I don't remember much of my childhood. It's a bad dream that occasionally rears its head when everything becomes too overwhelming," Sara said as she swirled the coffee in her cup, "I don't have memories of opening presents at Christmas. I don't even remember celebrating my birthday or my brother's birthday."
"I'm sorry," Nick said. He was at a complete loss of words. They had seen a boy of maybe five years dressed up in a full cowboy get up. Nick told Sara that he used to wear cowboy boots everywhere. He told her about how he even worked as a farm hand for a few summers during high school. Nick said that was when he decided that the cowboy lifestyle just wasn't for him.
"Don't be sorry. It's my parents' fault . . . they got married too young. They never figured out how to be friends, adults, or parents," Sara said as she dumped another creamer into her already tan colored coffee, "It's not all gloom and doom. If they hadn't been that way, I wouldn't be here with you . . . killing time before we get my pathology results."
"Not all gloom and doom?" Nick teased as Sara stared deep into her coffee cup.
"Not all. You bought me a cup of coffee and a scone," Sara clarified.
"I thought you'd be more nervous," Nick said as he snapped off a quarter of her scone.
"I am. You're just a calming person. You and Warrick. You don't let everything get to you and build up until it explodes," Sara replied.
"No matter what the results say, I'm here for you. The same way that you have always made sure to stand by me," Nick replied.
"That spider was pretty big this morning," Sara replied with a smirk, "Grissom would probably insist that we put its remains in a body bag and dispose of him properly."
"Grissom would probably citizen arrest you for killing that nasty thing," Nick kidded.
"I'd tell him that you were the one that woke me up to tell me that it was crawling up the wall . . . and looking at you funny," Sara replied with a raised eyebrow.
"I did not say it was looking at me funny," Nick replied as redness began to creep into his cheeks.
"I hate to tell you anything other than the truth," Sara said, "If anything happens, I'm really going to miss this."
"I thought this wasn't going to be all gloom and doom?" Nick asked.
"Didn't you think about this stuff after the whole . . . you know," Sara said in reference to when Nick found himself underneath the earth.
"Yeah, I thought about what it would be like to die. I thought about what it would have been like to kill myself when I was trapped in that box. I couldn't let you find me that way," Nick replied as a chill visibly ran through his body.
"I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you decided to stay in Vegas," Sara replied.
"I'm lucky to have such good friends. You and Warrick were the people I was thinking about before Grissom pulled me out of the ground. I was thinking about how lucky I was to have you two looking for me," Nick said with a smile.
"I'm glad I had the pleasure," Sara replied.
"Let's just not try to repeat that history," Nick said.
"I don't know why bad karma seems for follow you so closely," Sara replied.
"I didn't know you believed in karma," Nick replied.
"There has to be something to explain why all these bad things happen. So many bad things happen to so many good people. Do you think its punishment? I keep on thinking that maybe if I had stayed home the night my mother stabbed my father, I might have been able to help him. I might have felt something other than relief that he couldn't hurt us anymore," Sara replied.
"You were just a kid. What if your mother had stabbed you on accident during her . . ."
"Altered mental status? I don't know. I hated her for a long time. Maybe it was all that hate I let fly freely around me."
"It wasn't something you did, Sara. It just happened. Shit happens . . . that's the only way I can explain why I was chosen instead of Warrick. Dumb luck," Nick replied.
"I want to explain why. I want to understand why."
"Maybe that stuff isn't for us to know. Maybe there is someone up there running a giant computer that generates all the different situations that we run in to," Nick replied. His parents had been very religious people. They strictly enforced the morals of the Catholic church on all of their children. Nick found it harder to believe than his siblings. He found it hard to believe that their wise and compassion God would let his baby-sitter do unspeakable things to him.
"Yee of little faith," Sara commented.
"Right back at yah," Nick said with a smile.
"I was thinking about going to church with Warrick next Sunday," Sara said, "I'm looking for something to give some semblance of inner peace."
"I thought you said your yoga and meditation tape did that?" Nick asked.
"It was a rental . . . not good enough for me to actually buy," Sara replied.
"So inner peace isn't worth anything more than fifteen dollars?" Nick said with a laugh.
"Something like that," Sara replied laughing.
"What's so funny?" Warrick said as he sat down at their table. Catherine has graciously agreed to give him some time off this afternoon.
"Sara and I were discussing the value of inner peace. Sara thinks it needs to be under fifteen dollars," Nick replied.
"Didn't you want to get there a few minutes early to check in?" Warrick said as he shook his head.
"I'm not going to sit in that waiting room for a half hour. It's going to make me nervous, and I'm going to start wondering if I'm sicker than I feel. I can't," Sara replied quickly.
"I'm sorry . . . I didn't realize," Warrick replied.
"Nick and I were talking about inner peace and salvation. Have you ever wondered how our life is planned out?" Sara rambled.
"It's all in God's hands. There's meaning in everything," Warrick replied as he pulled off some of Sara's remaining scone.
"How can you be so confident?" Nick questioned. Nick had a hard time reasoning that a God might want him to be buried in a fabricated Plexiglas coffin.
"Because it's a little more comforting than the Choas Theory," Warrick replied.
"So you are trying to say that each interaction is pre-plan and doesn't influence the fate of someone else?" Sara asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I guess," Warrick replied as he chewed on the scone.
"We need to talk about something different," Sara said quickly.
"Preseason football starts in about three weeks," Nick replied.
"I thought maybe we could talk about something that I actually care about," Sara replied.
"I have this case," Warrick started, "I have four multidirectional blood spatter patterns. I can't make sense of it because the patterns are all similar enough to have come from the same weapon, but that doesn't exclude four similar weapons or one attacker with a murderer that liked to move around the room."
Sara smiled at the effort that her friends were making. Nothing could suppress the thoughts of karma, chaos, and destiny running through her head. None of those belief systems seemed comforting to her at this moment. She looked at her watch and wondered just how much her life might change within the next forty-five minutes.
