Writing on a Blank Slate

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.

Rating: M for later content

Chapter 6: "This job was killing you."

Warrick called them later on the second day.

"Hye Nick, what's going on?" Warrick would never have admitted it out loud, but he was deeply hurt by what his friends had done. Nick, the people person, seemed to sense it anyway.

"Driving," he answered. "We're driving north on – hey Sara, what route are we on now?"

He received a shrug in reply. Sara hadn't really been paying attention, but she had decided that maybe it was time to buy a map.

"Anyway," Nick continued, "we're headed north. I'm sorry I didn't call you man, but I just didn't know what to say, you know?"

Warrick nodded. "So, you and Sara, huh?"

Nick chuckled. "Aw, it's not like that."

"But you'd like it to be." Nick didn't answer. "Nick, c'mon, you know you're sweet on her. You just ran away with her; you might as well admit it."

"I'm not saying anything."

"About what?" Sara asked.

"Nevermind," Nick told her. "Listen, Warrick, can you apologize to everyone for us? You know, to Greg and Doc Robbins and Brass?"

"You should call Greg. He's pretty gutted."

"Yeah." Nick nodded. "Can I ask another favour too?"

"Depends what it is."

"Any chance you and Greg could pack up my apartment for me. You know, put my stuff into storage? You can sell the furniture and the TV and stuff: the money should pay the storage costs for the rest."

"Nick, are you sure? I mean, your stuff-"

"Yeah, 'Rick, I'm sure. I don't know how long it'll be before I need it sent on and there's no point paying rental on a house I'm not using."

"Okay, no problem. Anything else I can do?"

"No, that's it. Thanks man. You wanna talk to Sara?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Sara took the phone one-handed, keeping the other firmly on the steering wheel.

"Warrick, how are you?"

"Asides from losing two of my best friends in one fell swoop?" His tone was light, but Sara winced.

"Warrick, I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey, I understand. This job was killing you."

Her heart jumped at hearing it put so bluntly.

"Yeah," she agreed, "it was."

Warrick chuckled. "You take care, okay? Keep Nick in line: you know what he's like."

She laughed. "Yeah, I know. Look after Greg for me, okay?"

He grinned. "Will do. Later girl."

"Later." She handed the phone back to Nick, who was still grinning over something Warrick had said. She made a mental note to try and get it out of him later.

Hisphone rang again a few moments later. He looked at the caller display.

"Ecklie," he told her.

"Don't answer it," Sara suggested.

Her own phone rang next, and she turned it off without a word. Conrad Ecklie had never yet said anything that she wanted to hear.

Several days passed. The further they drove from Las Vegas the better they both felt, and the closer they grew. They stopped racing to make ground and started taking short detours to stop at lookout points and interesting towns. On the third day Nick, who was taking his turn behind the wheel, broke off from the joke he was telling to ask:

"Hey Sara, are we driving all the way to Canada? Because if we keep on heading north, that's where we're gonna end up."

Sara thought about this for a moment.

"Have you ever been to Canada?" she asked him.

"Nope," he shook his head. "Have you?"

"Nope." She grinned. "Keep driving."

"Yes ma'am."