Author's Note: This is my first fic. I've been reading for God-knows-how-long, writing this one over and over again, and trying and trying to work up the nerve to post. Reviews would be WONDERFUL, considering that that way, I'd know if it was even worth continuing. Well-rounded reviews would be nice, don't sugarcoat anything, but at the same time please don't open fire. I left my bulletproof vest in my other pants. Italics are flashbacks.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. Or George, for that matter. Just another sad fact I have to deal with every day.

Spoilers: Should be none, can take place anytime after Greg's promotion from lab rat to CSI. Warnings to come if need be.

He fidgeted nervously with his cufflinks. Why had he worn cufflinks? He hated cufflinks. They reminded him too much of his father. His father was the reason he'd moved to Las Vegas in the first place, he wanted to get out of his and his older brother's shadows. He fidgeted, knowing full well what he wanted to ask her, still terrified that she'd say no. Some part of him wanted to run into the men's room and pray to the porcelain god, a second part wanted to go through the plan with great gusto, because his mother had always taught him that anything worth doing was worth doing well, and yet another part wanted to forget the plan altogether and just enjoy the five-star restaurant that he'd needed to book five weeks in advance, just for tonight. Those five weeks were an eternity for Nick.

He could hardly keep from exploding; every time he saw her, he wanted to get down on one knee and pop the proverbial question. So why, when he had so perfectly planned this moment, couldn't he work up the nerve?

He'd practiced a thousand times with his sister Michele while she'd been in town. She was married; she knew how the perfect proposal should go. As strange as proposing to your sister may sound, he was very grateful. She'd helped him perfect it, all the while swearing not to tell their parents. Smiling, he remembered how he and Michele had always been partners in crime. They were the closest to each other. Lord knows how many times they'd bailed each other out, picking each other up drunk from parties, covering for each other when one snuck out of the house, always telling each other secrets, as odd as it may be for a girl and her younger brother. Nick knew that when Michele said she wouldn't tell, she wouldn't tell, and she could count on him for the same.

He couldn't really understand why, but he started thinking about his family. He missed them. For some reason, he started running through him family tree. Twins ran in his family, identical twins on his father's side, and fraternal twins on his mother's side. This, combined with the fact that everybody had huge families, made for a nightmare of a family tree.

The oldest of the seven, Ethan, was now forty-two, married to Jane, and they had five kids, Elizabeth and Dakota (identical twin girls) who were fifteen, Rachel and Anne (identical twin girls) who were twelve, and Vince, who was eight.

Ethan's twin sister, Michele, was married to Magnus, and they also had five kids. Charlie and Michael, identical twins, were thirteen, Duncan and Chad, fraternal twins, were ten, and Madison was nine.

Nick's next sister, Isabella, was forty, married to Ewan. They had four kids, fourteen-year old identical twins Daniel and David, and thirteen-year-old identical twins Lily and Layla.

The third girl, Flora, who was thirty-nine, was married to Peter. They had eight kids. Matthew and Dustin, twelve-year-old identical twins, Laura, eleven, Kyle and Molly, nine-year old fraternal twins, and Paul, Mitchell, and Lisa, who were six-year-old triplets. Paul and Mitchell were identical and Lisa was fraternal.

Lindsay, also thirty-nine and Flora's identical twin, was married to Simon. They had seven kids. They were also the only family not to have twins. Stephen (fourteen), Vivian (thirteen), Roberta (twelve), Alexandra (ten), Sheila (nine), Jessica (eight), and Thomas (five).

Stephanie, thirty-six and the closest in age to Nick, was married to Ryan. They had five girls, Jordana (nine), Dawn and Larissa (identical twins who were seven), Jasmine and Caroline (fraternal twins who were six), and a confirmed boy on the way that they planned to name Kiefer.

And then there was Nick, thirty-five, sitting here fidgeting with his cufflinks, preparing to ask the biggest question he might ever ask, and all he could think about was his family tree in extensive detail. He mentally counted up all of his nieces and nephews, and every time he got to twenty-two, he had to start over. Finally, he was pretty sure he had reached thirty-four (thirty-five if you counted Kiefer).

"Nick?" Sara asked, noticing his absentmindedness.

He practically jumped out of his chair, knocking both his salad fork and soup spoon to the ground. This was quite a feat, considering that they were on opposite sides of the currently empty plate.

Chuckling, Sara said, "What's on your mind?"

Taking a deep breath, holding it for a second, and slowly letting it out with a slight hiss, he answered, "Okay. You know, Sara, we've been seeing each other for quite a while now, right? About ten months now?" When she nodded, he continued, "Well, what would you think if we were to consider making a serious step forward?"

As he looked at her, he could see her swallow hard. He didn't know if it was in anticipation or fear of what would come next. This hurt his confidence even more. The perfect speech Michele had helped him with flew out of the back of his mind, and he started to trip over his words. "What I mean is…well, what I'm trying to say is…would you…I know that…" Nick was utterly mortified at the fool he was making of himself.

Sara saw him fumbling with something in his pocket, and her heart skipped a beat. If this was what she thought it was, then she was terrified, but in a wonderfully terrified way, like the way you feel right before you're about to go bungee jumping or try a new food. She saw by the movement of his arm that he had taken something out of his pocket, but the table blocked her view. She didn't want to look over for fear of appearing over-anxious, but it was a hard urge to fight.

Finally Nick spoke again. "Sara, I love you with all my heart. You're the single person I've loved the most in my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Sara's eyes were welling up and her heart jumped into her throat. She knew what was coming next as she could see him get up and bend down on one knee right in front of her.

The entire scenario was drawing quite a bit of attention from the surrounding tables, and they could both feel all eyes on them, as the entire room gradually fell quiet.

"Sara Sidle, will you marry me?" Nick asked. He opened a small black box to reveal a perfect solitaire diamond, set in a white gold band. It was a perfect style for Sara, delicate yet strong. He knew she would love it.

"Yes! Yes, Nick Stokes, I will marry you!" Sara cried, jumping up from her chair. He stood up quickly and they met in a standing embrace, kissing for all they were worth and hanging on to each other as though for dear life.

This inspired cheers from all the restaurant patrons, but all Nick and Sara could hear was the beating of their own hearts, which for some unexplainable reason were beating in perfect unison.

Author's Note: Yay or nay? Let me know what you think. Reviews greatly appreciated!