I watched the episode 'Who are you' from season one last night and this just came to me. Again I'm just borrowing someone else toys (namely CBS') because believe me if I owned these toys I wouldn't be posting my ideas, I'd be making it happen on CSI. Also suing me would be a huge waste of time, unless that is you really need about 20 dollars cause that all I've got. Remember to please review even if you didn't like it, all feedback is welcome. As Benjamin Franklin said 'Our critics are our friends; they show us our faults'. I read this line on a message board but I can't remember who posted it (if it was anyone reading this let me know I'll credit you) but I thought I should start using it for every fic: If you don't like SNICKERS, stay out of the candy aisle!

Fall Down

Sara watched him push threw the people crowding the halls of the lab until he'd finally disappeared into the locker room. She followed him because she'd noticed him ignoring Grissom's calls. Quietly she noted the way his hands shook as he closed his locker before resting his head against the cold metal and crying. He cried softly but she knew he was crying from the way his shoulders shook, and by how red his eyes had been before and by the worried look Grissom had had. She backed out of the room, careful to not alert him to her presents. This was something he was doing because he thought he was doing it alone.

"Hey, I saw Officer Tanner lookin' all smug, I just wanted…" she jumped at Warrick's voice and rushed to cover his mouth with her hand. As she pulled him down the hall and away from the locker room he shot her a questioning look before prying her hand off of his mouth.

"What the hell, girl?" he hissed, looking down at her like she'd just grown a second head.

"I needed my stuff, Nick was in there. He looked like he could use a minute to himself." She didn't meet Warrick's gaze and it didn't take a CSI to know that she was holding something back. He didn't ask. All he did was nod before turning towards the main doors.

"I can do without my duffle for one night, see you tomorrow Sara." And he was gone, leaving Sara free to find Grissom…and the whole story. She didn't even need to knock before Grissom answered her, looking up at her threw the top of his glasses.

"Something you need, Sara?" She nodded, knowing that she didn't have to, knowing that he knew she was there for a reason. She nodded anyway and moved to stand in front of his desk.

"What happened to Nick?" she watched as her mentor removed his glasses and that was all it took to know that this was serious.

"Our suspect's wife pulled a gun on him." Grissom rubbed the bridge of his nose, a sure sigh that he was blaming himself. She felt the air rush out of her lungs as she dropped into the chair opposite the famous Gil Grissom.

"What?" she whispered, recovering quickly. "Why?"

"You know the skeleton we found?" she nodded, remembering the skeleton Nick and Grissom had found in the foundation of a house the other day. "Well, it seems it was the wife that killed our victim not the husband and when I went with the police to escort Mr. Hendler she panicked- we were getting to close. I left Nick alone to process, no one knew; we had no idea." They sat there for a few minutes letting the full weight of the situation sink in. When Grissom spoke again it was so quiet that Sara barley caught it.

"What if I hadn't gone back? What if Mrs. Hendler hadn't waited as long as she did? What if her husband hadn't said anything about the floors?" Sara's head was spinning with 'what ifs' and all make believe outcomes ended in losing Nick; their Nick. Numbly she pushed herself out of the chair and headed back to the locker room though she doubted Grissom noticed her absence-she didn't much care. All she cared about what the fact that Nick was already gone.

"Damn," she cursed, she's only been in Vegas for about two months but Nick had instantly wormed his way into her life and it surprised her how much she had come to care for him. She needed to see him, to see for herself that he was alright and still breathing. More for her sake then anything else and she knew it was foolish since she'd seen him alive and…well, not well exactly, but alive less then an hour ago. She didn't care how stupid she was being, she concluded as she headed for the parking lot, she had to see him now. Even if he hadn't gone home, she'd wait in his driveway until he showed up.

His house was dark, no lights or signs that he was there except for his Denali in the drive. She pulled up and somehow managed to lock her door while balancing two cups of coffee she'd stopped to pick up. When he answered the door she had to focus to make him out against the darkness of his house.

"Sara?" his voice was haggard and scratchy which she suspected was from crying-she didn't mention it.

"I brought coffee, can I come in?" she held up the coffee cups, one in each hand, and smiled at him. Wordlessly he backed away to allow her room to brush past before closing the door behind her and locking it. She followed him into the kitchen where he flicked on the small pot lights, causing her to blink.

"I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a regular black coffee. I hope that's okay." She felt uneasy standing in his kitchen, wanting so badly to ask him how he was doing and at the same time scared to know. Sara placed the coffees down as she looked at him, the shock of the lights having worn off and saw that his eyes were still red. Sara knew her strengths and her faults, she knew that though she was a talented CSI, she completely sucked at people skills. She'd never been one to get all emotional over things, her childhood had killed almost all her emotions. She'd never been raised to console others and by the time she'd started in the system it was too late for her to learn. So the thought of a strong, grown man crying made her nervous; usually. With Nick, though it felt completely natural for her close the gap of space between them and take him into her arms. Her breath caught when she felt him shaking violently against her.

"Nick," she whispered, wanting to protect him by trying to wrap herself around him as best she could with their size difference. She felt his wet tear drops as they hit her collarbone and trailed down her chest only to get soaked up by her black shirt. She muttered clichéd hushing noises into his ear, not knowing what else to do besides hold him. It startled her when his legs gave out and he sank to the floor, taking her with him. Ever the gentlemen, Nick made sure not to hurt her by pulling her onto his lap. Having no where else to go, her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and he lent against the fridge. It was an awkward and intimate position, she knew that, couldn't stop thinking about it and still she held him as he cried against her shoulder. After about twenty minutes Nick began to calm down and turned his head, breathing heavily against her neck as they sat in silence. They stayed like that until Sara wondered if he'd fallen asleep. She didn't want to move, worried that she might wake him but knowing that it wouldn't be good for her to spend the night like this. More importantly, she knew it wouldn't do him any good to spend the night like this.

"Nicky?" she mumbled into his ear softly.

"I'm not asleep Sara." His voice was rough from crying as he kissed the base of her neck and brought his head up to look at her. It seemed that he didn't realize any of the things he was doing to her that was making her stomach do summersaults. Things you just don't do to someone you hardly know.

"Grissom told me what happened," she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes as she spook, feeling as if she'd betrayed his trust somehow.

"I thought I was going to die, Sara, I was afraid that she was going to fire that gun." Tears began to pool again at the base of his eyes as he sought her eyes out. "She just kept talking, it was a confession, and all I could see was the gun and the barrel pointed at my chest." She placed trembling hands on either side of his face as tears trailed down his cheeks. "Now all I can think of is what if? What if she had just shot me instead of talking? What if Grissom hadn't come back? What if she had shot me, would she have been a good shot? Or would she have missed?' Tears unknowingly fell down her face but only when he leaned forwards and kissed one away did Sara become aware of them. Sara stilled, his lips were light and airy like she imagined butterfly wings would be. Her mind was spinning with thoughts of what ifs and losing Nick and now his lips against her skin and she was losing control. All she remembered before giving in was his lips kissing just above her own and turning her face up to fully meet his lips. He seemed to come alive, running his hands threw her dark hair and pressing her closer into him. She knew that she too felt move alive as she let out a small moan into his mouth as his tongue darted forwards to meet hers. She whimpered but didn't complain as she ran her tongue along the roof of his mouth before recalling exactly why she was there in the first place.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She pulled back, too ashamed to look at him; this was her fault. "You're scared and I'm supposed to be helping-listening, not taking advantage of you." She fumbled over words as her hands automatically came up to cover her face. Nick reached up, taking her wrist in his hands and pulling her hands away from her face to get a better view of the blush staining her cheeks. It made him smile.

"No, Sara don't worry; its fine. I'm sorry too." My God she was beautiful; it was all he could think about. He knew it was wrong to think that about her as she sat there thinking she'd done something wrong but he couldn't help it.

"I should go, you need to sleep," she was pushing herself off of him so fast that she stumbled and he grabbed her hips to steady her, lowing her back onto his lap.

"Whoa, careful Sara," nether moved as he rubbed slow circles with his thumbs on her hipbones and she was painfully aware of the closeness of their situation this time. She couldn't help herself from bring them even closer as she hugged him, gripping his shirt in her fists as she pressed herself against him.

"What if we'd lost you?" she breathed as his hands coming up from her hips to wrap around her back. She pulled away slowly, afraid to look at his face, to see what he thought of her.

"I should go, you really need to get some sleep." He helped her push herself up this time, watched as she backed away and then reached out a hand to help him up as well.

"Every time I close my eyes I see it all over again; I see the barrel of that gun starring back at me." He'd yet to let go of her hand, she gave him a small smile.

"It's over Nick," she didn't know who she was saying that for more; herself or him.

"I know, but would you stay anyway?" He looked at her questioningly as a lone tear slip down his face. She nodded as she turned towards his living room and moved to his couch.

"I'll stay Nick, but you still need to try to sleep. You go on to bed and I'll stay out here in case you have a nightmare." Sara personally knew just how bad nightmares could get and how nice it was to wake up with someone there. "Go on, call if you need anything." Nick looked at her as he rubbed the back of his neck. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" she asked, whatever it was he could tell her. She urged him on with her eyes but still he said nothing. Wordlessly he reached out and grabbed her hand, gentle pulling her up from his couch and leading her towards his bedroom. Remembering to close the lights as they passed by.

"Nicky?" she questioned; he was beginning to scare her. The total darkness of his room took her eyes a moment to focus on and she closed them tight before looking again.

"I'm tired Sara, but my mind wouldn't stop replaying what happened. Would you sleep with me?" she searched his face, saw the fear and desperation in his eyes and found herself nodding in agreement. Without letting go of her hand he slid into his huge bed, scarcely giving her enough time to drop her red jacket on the floor before he was pulling her back flush against his chest.

"Thank you, Sara." He whispered, dipping his face into her shoulder, his warm breath causing her to shiver. Nick tightened his hold around her instinctively, his thumb once again resting atop her hipbone; he loved the way her hipbone jetted out.

"Night Nick." She muttered quietly, not really trusting her own voice.

"Night darlin', I owe you." Nick mumbled back, the vanilla smell of her shampoo and light milk and honey scent of her skin lulling him off to sleep.

"Anytime, Nicky, anytime." She knew he was already asleep however, from the rhythmic breathing on her neck. All she could think about as she followed him to sleep was how she hoped he didn't wake up screaming. Because, she knew it would be too easy-too tempting to comfort Nick Stokes.

End

-Girlygirl