Disclaimer in part one.
Here's the latest. Please keep reading and reviewing! I'm trying to stay as on top of the story as I can.
A warm, buttery, yummy smell hit Sara as soon as she hit the front stoop. Nick's SUV was parked in the driveway, and Sara hoped that it was his cooking and not one of Grace and Jules' 'experiments.' "Someone cooking something?" she called as she followed voices to the kitchen.
"Nick came over to make us pancakes." Jules said. Her voice cracked something within Sara; it was sad and bleak and scared and tired, but had the smallest tendril of happiness wrapped around it. She laughed when she saw him, dressed in a frilly blue apron.
"Good morning." She said, walking over to kiss him. He tasted faintly like pancake batter, which was actually kind of gross in an endearing way.
"Morning. Sorry I didn't stick around after shift—Grissom and I were working on that case, you know, and we went through till like two AM this morning, and then I just went to my place and crashed and came over here."
"No problem." Sara hadn't seen Nick at work at all the previous night, nor the day before. She missed him. And the damn problem would only be compounded if she switched to Days.
"You want one, Sar?" Nick interrupted Sara's thoughts.
"Two, please." She put her purse on the counter. The girls were both dressed neatly, with wan complexions and long faces. Grace wore the blazer-and-pleated-skirt combination, while Jules had chosen the combination of Oxford shirt, tie, and wraparound skirt. Grace's pancakes had chocolate chips in them, whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top. "You're going to be sick at school." Sara commented.
"That's the plan." Grace said, her voice sarcastic and edged with darkness and daring.
"She wanted to put cookie dough on top." Jules joked. "Nick just didn't want to mix up a batch of cookies too."
"Oh, really?" Sara laughed it off and looked at Jules' All-American pancakes: blueberry-stuffed, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. "Those look good."
"What do you want, Sar? Bananas, almonds, brown sugar…" Nick's pancakes were paper-thin, almost crepes; he relied solely on toppings and fillings to make them interesting.
"Sounds wonderful." She sat back and sighed contentedly. "You guys ready?"
"No," Jules snorted.
"Jules, please don't be argumentative." Grace said tiredly. "Just—go with it? Let go. Don't make this difficult."
"You're one to talk." Jules retorted.
"What is that supposed to mean? You're always the one who's argumentative and obnoxious."
"Girls," Sara said sharply as Nick placed pancakes in front of her. "Have you eaten?" she questioned him distractedly, picking up a fork.
"I'll make mine next." He reassured her. "When do you girls need to get going?"
"Too soon." Jules said.
Sara shoveled pancake into her mouth. "I want to come with you. I need to talk to your administrators and stuff."
Grace pushed her plate away. "Well, we have to now. Can you just, come in later, or something?"
"Yeah," Sara said, trying not to sound hurt. "Yeah, that'd work too. I want to sit for a little bit, anyways."
"How was your shift?" Jules asked politely, stuffing books indiscriminately into her bag.
"Boring." Sara swallowed. Nick sat down next to her, his plate loaded with raspberries, orange slices, lemon topping that he'd brought from his apartment and left in her cabinet, mangoes, melons and blueberry sauce. He called it a Rainbow Pancake. It was his second-favorite; his favorite was some sort of weird Texas breakfast palette, with lots of bacon and fried ham and sausages and eggs and peppers and fried potatoes smothered in salsa, sour cream, and guacamole. Sara thought it looked disgusting. "Nothing really happened. A few breaking and enterings we let Greg take."
"You ready?" Grace said breathlessly to Jules.
"Yeah. See you tonight, I guess, Sara." Jules stood up and pulled at her skirt. Grace echoed her sister's sentiments.
Sara stood up and awkwardly hugged them. "Thank you for… you know, doing this. You'll be fine; it'll be tough today though." Grace hugged her back tightly; Jules' was much quicker. "Remember, go to the headmaster's office when you get there…remember how he wrote a note saying he'd like to see you when you get back? And what time are you two due home?"
"I have a dryland workout." Jules said, "And regular season practices start in about two weeks, every day before and after school."
"I'm supposed to go down to the courts and scrimmage some." Grace replied, dully and thickly, testing her tongue around the foreign, ordinary day's events. "It should be around six or so."
"Okay. I'll see you then." Sara tried to smile, but Grace looked down and Jules away. They walked to their cars silently, not looking back towards Sara but clearly displeased.
She hated that her chin trembled. She turned to Nick, "I did the right thing, right?"
Nick nodded and swallowed more pancake. "I think so. And, don't freak. They'll think so too in a few days. I don't want to say the word normal—you don't feel back to 'normal'—" Sara involuntarily shuddered as she thought back to his underground terror, "but a schedule, ordinaryness will help."
"I hope so," Sara involuntarily shivered, then walked to the window to watch them drive away. "How was your shift last night? Did you solve the case?"
"We're working on it. I told Brass I'd meet him at the station at about one PM." He said.
"That's good." Sara was secretly very thankful; Nick had been so strong and supportive for the last several weeks, and she was just beginning to feel guilty that she'd taken advantage of him, that he really needed someone there for him right now, too, and she wasn't fitting the bill. "You should sleep more, though—you've had what, five hours?"
He shrugged. "I'm good. It was enough to recharge."
"What are you doing till one? We could go out and grab a lunch or something."
Nick smiled. "That sounds good. I actually have a counseling appointment, down at the clinic, in a little bit…I just stopped by to see the girls. You should sleep, anyways." Nick had been required to see a psychiatrist in order to be cleared for returning to work; Grissom had insisted that he go to a few more sessions after the clearance.
"Thank you for breakfast, again." She said, and smiled. "And, Nick, really… thank you for being so good these past few days…weeks, really." She swallowed, "I just wanted…I don't know…It's like all take and no give on my part…" she stumbled over her words, which she had rehearsed in the break room. Relationships—at least in Sara's case—did not tend to work out, did not tend to be fun-filled, happy, in-for-the-long-run, or mutually beneficial. This was another positive step. She was full of them today, she thought ruefully. "It's…you got in really deep, it hasn't really been fun— and you've been so strong through it, so…I'm just—"
"Hey, it's fine, Sara." Nick gave her a crooked smile. "It's been hell these past few weeks…And you've been great with the girls; give yourself some credit. I'm doing good, right now. If there was…something, I'd come to you. Don't freak out and do that punishing-yourself thing."
Sara looked straight at him, and saw something, warm and open and confident, right there in his eyes. "I just want you to know—I'm here. I promise I'll do my best." She finished lamely before changing the subject. "So Grissom talked to me today."
"What'd he want?" Nick scooped fruit into his mouth.
"He actually offered to get me switched to Days…for the girls, and all."
"You take it?" Nick said cautiously, unsure how to read the situation.
"Actually, no, not yet. I'm not sure if I want to…I see the girls all evening, and it's not like we'd be bonding when we're all sleeping anyways. Plus, I only need four or so hours a sleep, and I'm good to go. They're almost eighteen, too—I need to find out when their birthday is, but they're not little kids, they're practically grown-up, so I think they can handle it. I was considering, though—I've got four months of vacation saved up, over the last six or so years. Do you think he'd let me stay on shift, but only come in three nights a week, and be on call for the other four, instead of two nights on call?"
Nick nodded. "That should work—hell, it might even make Ecklie happier. Damn budget keeps getting trimmed."
"True," Sara nodded, then yawned. "It's be nice, though—all being on the same shift. Hell, I have conversations with Warrick more than once a month now, and it's not very tense like it used to be." Her face darkened. "Nick—have you told anyone about us? Is there some—policy—that's being violated?"
Nick shrugged and stood to take his plate to the sink. "When I flew out for the funeral I had to tell Catherine. And Greg knows—suspects, maybe—about it. Did you want to keep it a secret or something?" his words sounded too-careful, even to him.
"No," Sara said quickly. "I just wanted to know if we shouldn't act together or something…if you wanted it that way." They looked at each other and burst out laughing. "God, I feel like an idiot."
"Well, I actually do have a…wondering." Nick said hesitantly.
"A wondering? Can the word be used that way?"
"I don't know; the girls kick my ass at grammar." He replied. "Anyways…have you talked to…the girls…about us? I mean, when I can come over and when I shouldn't…things like that. I—I don't want to make the girls uncomfortable, but they're eighteen and should handle this maturely, I think."
"No, I haven't." Sara looked down. "I should—I don't know what they're comfortable with, about anything really, right now. I supposed I should have this talk—over dinner maybe?"
"That sounds like a good idea. Be calm, be rational, be logical."
"Be me." She rolled her eyes. "You wanna come? We should take them out to dinner too, sometime this week."
"I'll see where I'm at with the investigation, for tonight. I think they'd like to go out later this week. And, actually, I've got to get going." Nick was smiling broadly. "I'll call you once I'm done…but you need to sleep, don't forget."
"Quit worrying," she said, poking him good-naturedly and giving him a kiss.