Disclaimer: Not mine! Though I wish it was...

Hi everyone! Yeah...new story...kind of a quick little in-between thing. It just came to me, and I kind of never stopped writing it. I gave this a higher rating to be safe...

This is a bit darker than my other fic, Black Sweat, but I really enjoy it...so I hope you do too!

The Rooftop

Things always slowed at 4:30 in the morning, without fail. 4:30 in the morning, everyone waited for their second wind, and the lab always seemed to be at a standstill. That's when they took the time to regroup. Criminalists at the Las Vegas CSI needed at least a half an hour to gather their thoughts, to reevaluate, reassess, and move on.

At 4:30 in the morning, that's when Nick and Sara would sneak through the glass-walled lab and climb up the fire escape to the rooftop. The twilight air still stiff, they'd venture out into the unknown to view life at its finest. Together, they reconnected with their thoughts and the things they've missed over years of disassociation from the normal, diurnal routines of real working life.

It started years before, after Sara's run-in with the police. Grissom always told her she needed a diversion from her work, not the lonesome practice of idly waiting for the whir of the police scanner or absorbing feelings through a textbook. She tried love, but her hopeless pining for her boss went nowhere and her only quasi-normal relationship turned out to be just a cheap facade. She was used to rejection, isolation, but in less than a year she had lost it completely. She went to the rooftop to find herself, the self she forfeited a long time before she ever came to Las Vegas. Up on the rooftop, she had feelings; dreams, aspirations, and she could run away from the drama of her cold world. No one could tell her "No Sara, you can't do that." or "No Sara, that's not your place." Up on the rooftop, Sara was someone and not the broken shell of a person she convinced herself she was. She went there to be Sara, the vulnerable, delicate creature she truly was. Sara went on the rooftop alone, but where the city lights met the faint horizon, she felt apart of something bigger. With that small hope of a greater connection, she returned to her hardened life and faced the battle with her demons again.

Nick found the rooftop by accident. He'd run far away from the life he thought he had figured out. He'd learned to lick his wounds, to heal himself, but it wasn't enough anymore. Nick was a zombie. He took his fears with him to the grave and had come out the other side. He'd died and he rose, like the Savior he wasn't sure existed. He felt disjointed, and estranged from society. He pretended to be compassionate, bubbly, and even sarcastic once or twice, but good old dependable Nicky had left him. He was possessed by the ghosts that his coffin had given him. Emotionally, he was still sealed. His body was above the ground, but his heart was six feet under. He looked at his own hands and realized it wasn't enough anymore. The rooftop became his altar, and every morning he'd wish for his soul. He waited for warmth; he waited to be set free from the chains that bound him to live in fear. The wiser part of him knew it was over, the Gordons had died and he had lived. But, that knowledge didn't fill him up. Nothing filled him up, except the rooftop. The rooftop gave him faith, and he was thankful for the shred of vivaciousness it gave him. A sliver of life had eased the burnt corners of his insides where death had touched him. His black hole inside was sated with the wind chill of the morning, and he could return to work with his mask in tact.

It was an idle Tuesday, the day they'd never forget. On opposite sides of the cemented rooftop, they reflected. That Tuesday filled their worlds with something else: their only connection. Nick had kicked a radiator in frustration, Sara leapt up in confusion, and they saw each other's pain. Twenty feet away, they both knew they were the closest they'd ever been. Sara looked in Nick's eyes and saw a desire for life; Nick saw a need for consolation in hers. They both stepped out together, and sat in the middle of their sanctuary together. At 4:30 in the morning, they'd found a universe of words, though none of them spoke. Nick simply sat next to Sara, and they communicated in their silence. The wind brushed their faces with the same stroke, and they gravitated toward each other's warmth. By a random chance, they'd found support in each other. They didn't have to brave the journey to stabilization alone. They had a secret bond; they'd seen each other at the worst point of their lives and in all their emotional nakedness. They grabbed each other's hands and hung onto the cliff of depression that they were standing in front of. The small solace of togetherness created a safety from the feelings they were drowning in. Tuesday was the day they walked back to the lab a little more whole.

A chance occurrence became a secret rendezvous. At 4:30, things slowed down to not miss them. They slid through the lab to the rooftop. They'd sit at the edge, and look out into the black day before them. Most days were spent in silence; they didn't need to speak to understand. Their pain had drawn a clear kindred between them, and they knew their feelings were not solitary, but a unit of emotions. They joined their fears together, put their hearts out for comfort, and sat with a mutual understanding. One day, as Nick's watch ticked to 4:38, things changed.

Sara had broken the silence and fused her lips to his.

Emotions flooded into their kiss and tongues clashed with their need for each other's presence. Nick's hands slid up Sara's shirt, and she groaned in response. His cold hands reached her breasts, and he felt for her heart. He craved the rhythm that her body had given her, and found comfort in the steady beat she possessed. They divested their clothes on the rooftop, and reached for something more than simple affection. They weren't compensating for their loneliness; they were showing their mutual compassion. Nick kissed all over Sara's neck, washing her. Sara clung to his body, warming him the only way she knew how. It wasn't long before they couldn't take it: they'd needed each other more than they knew. Nick slammed into Sara's body, but kissed her pain away. The silent air was filled with moans and screams. The rooftop provided shelter, a shield where they could share their pain in pleasure. They'd fused their souls when they coupled, and had eased each other's pain in gratitude for the meetings on the rooftop. They'd carried each other to the edge, and screamed each other's names to the outside world.

Nick held Sara's body on the rooftop, and they looked to the sky. Orange streaks had flooded the atmosphere, sunlight permeating into the twilight. The black day was receiving a shower of vitality, and they sat in awe at the beauty. They'd finally found a platform in their abyss, and they hadn't hit bottom. Together, they could share the burden of their problems. They could lift each other to new heights, and connect with themselves. Sara brought Nick life, and Nick brought Sara a reality from work. With each other, they became human again. A myriad of colors filled the horizon, and Nick looked deep into Sara's eyes with great sincerity.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"Thank you." She whispered back.

The dawn brought a new day, a new faith. Alone, they were slaves to their own pain. Together, they'd picked up the broken pieces of the past and turned them into a working present. They returned to their real world alive and, finally, happy. The rooftop brought them peace. The rooftop gave them someone who cares.

At 4:30 in the morning, Nick and Sara found a place they could share; they no longer needed to suffer.

This is only my second story, and I love it when you click that little review button!

--L.M.S.