"I've seen the way he looks at you, Sara. He likes you, and not just as a friend. As much as this hurts for me to say, I think you two would be good for each other. He needs someone to show him life and how to live it and you need someone that is going to accept you for who you are and never ask you to change, which he wouldn't." Greg explained
"I had a feeling, but wasn't sure. But being with him these past few weeks and having his support through the trial and sentencing really kind of showed me how much he cares. I need to do something to show him how grateful I am for his patience and understanding. What would you do?" she replied
"Like I said, this hurts a lot to say because I like you al so much, but you might want to cook him dinner or something along those lines. Or take him out and go for a walk, during which time you can have a heart to heart and see what's going on on his end. But me watching the two of you and the way he interacts with you and you in return, I'd say it's a sure bet he likes you. You just have to figure out what you're gonna do. The ball is in your court, Sara. How are you going to play it?"
Sara sat and thought about Greg's words very carefully. She knew he liked her, but in her mind they could never be more than friends; he just wasn't her speed. She wanted to find a good man, settle down, maybe have a couple of kids and grow old with someone. Since Grissom was not a candidate in any way, shape or form, she'd started looking elsewhere, but didn't realize that a very real and true possibility stood before her nearly every day of the week. Not only that, but she'd been living with him for the better part of three weeks. He was attentive, supportive, brilliant, humble and most important of all of Jim's defining characteristics, he was a gentleman.
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In his office at the precinct, Jim was thinking about the trial and how it had gone as well as it possibly could have. Between the evidence, which the opposition had tried to throw out, and the feed from the cameras, their ace in the hole, the guy, Randall Emerich got fifteen to twenty-five years, not eligible for parole for three years. Jim's joy could not be expressed in words, so as he pulled out his cell, he dialed a number he'd not dialed since Sara's birthday earlier that year.
"Yes, this is Captain Brass of the Las Vegas Police Department. I'd like to send some roses to the following address. Red, of course. I'd like some Baby's Breath with those as well. Yeah, here's my card number……………"
The last week had been especially hard on Jim, as Sara was still at his place (that wasn't the problem) and he found himself more and more, thinking thoughts he wasn't sure he should be having. True, they were still sharing a bed due to her persistent nightmares. Their sleep routine had gone from them sleeping back to back on opposite ends of the bed to spooning to now, either he or she with their head on the other's chest. They'd not done anything yet, save for the small peck of a kiss every now and then, which was usually planted on top of the other's head. For Jim, this was very fulfilling. He'd never imagined that so many of his feelings for Sara could be sated just by sharing the same bed and comforting her. Though the carnal side of him was growing increasingly hungry, he kept it in check as best he could. Sometimes he'd watch something on the tellie that was about as far from sex as one could get, like "Mission to Mars" or NOVA or Cosmos re-runs with Carl Sagan. Sometimes he'd cook or just go for a walk, but these activities were no longer working as well as they had in the beginning. He'd have to come clean with her at some point, and in his mind, the sooner the better, but how to do it?
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This was the first time Sara had been back to her apartment since Jim had found her all those weeks ago and truth be told, it felt a little creepy. Walking through the small one bedroom place, she was constantly reminded of the attack. After the scene had been released and was no longer protected by the police tape, Nick and Greg had come over to clean up a bit. That was, they cleaned up the dried blood, did the wash and generally tidied up the place. They'd done a very good job of it, too. The place was spotless and there was nothing about to suggest that anything had gone wrong. Of course not, as the attack didn't take place there, but downtown, but there were no longer clothes strewn about, the magazines on the coffee table were in order, the bed made and her plants had been tended to.
Jim had been by to pick up to pick up some clothing during the past week and not knowing what all she liked to wear in her free time, so knee deep in her casual clothes, he just grabbed some underthings and personal hygiene products. After that, he'd gone to the mall and just bought a few pairs of jeans, some long sleeved shirts and other things to go along with what he'd taken from her place.
Returning home from the market, Jim found her ready and raring to go. She was a workhorse, no doubt; having returned to work only one week after the attack and going full steam at every case she'd been given, so they left for work.
It was almost as though she'd been given a new life and she was going to live it to the fullest. She no longer stayed too late or came in on her days off. She was living her new life to the fullest and her discussion with Greg had given her an idea. She knew Jim had a certain passion for the outdoors and with some careful snooping, she found that he had a whole lot of vacation time saved up, as did she. So, during her lunch break, she pulled out an issue of Outdoor Life and made some calls, making reservations for a nice cabin in the woods not too far from Vegas. It was during this call that Nick came up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. Whipping round', she saw the roses.
"Roses for the sweet, my sweet." He said, smiling
Taking them, she pulled the card and read it.
"What my words can't say, horticulture can. Very Fondly, Jim."
Sara blushed at the card and slipped it into her pocket, leaning in to smell the roses. They were beautiful. She wasn't a big fan of roses, but these were absolutely beautiful and for Jim to send them to the lab, to her, it seemed he was making a statement of some sort, almost as if to say that he didn't care who knew about how he felt. This was definitely a big step.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
At his desk, Jim was checking his mail when he saw one from Sara. Smiling, he opened it.
"Jim, I know you've got vacation time, so if you could take about a week or so, two weeks from now, I've got something planned. I've got my time off, so if you could get yours, I promise our week together will be one neither one of will soon forget. Sara. Oh, and I know you know I'm a vegetarian, but for you, I'll make a beef roast, rice and steamed veggies for breakfast."
The message brought a smile to his face and as he opened his middle desk drawer he pulled out a small stack of photos that had been taken over the years; photos of he and she. There was one from a crime scene that had been taken by Nick, and just out of happenstance Jim was helping Sara to stand from a crouching position. Another was one of she and him eating in the break room, and some others. However, his favourite was one of she and him standing in the vehicle bay, his hand on her shoulder and she leaning in to hug him after getting some very good news. There was also the one that he had taken a week or so back, when her bruises had finally faded and she was asleep in his bed. When she slept, which she didn't do often, he thought she looked Angelic. Over the past few weeks he'd found himself in bed with her, his head propped up by his elbow and resting on his hand, just watching her sleep. God, she was beautiful.
Going through his desk, he found a vacation requisition form and filled it out as per Sara's directions and submitted it to the proper authorities. Hi mind swam with possibilities, but at the same time he was a bit apprehensive about the trip. What, other than the cabin, had she got planned? Would he be able to control himself if it was just to be a holiday between two friends? He didn't know. But what he did know was that during said trip they'd have a serious discussion about his newly realized feelings for her, her possible feelings for him and how, if at all, they should handle them.
There was a knock at his closed office door and as he shoved the photos back in his desk, he called for entry. The door opened and it was Grissom come to give Jim an update as to the Randall Emerich situation. Seating himself across from Jim and taking a long, deep breath, he spilled.
"Apparently Randall's cellmate got a little tired of him, his crimes and his mouth, so around 04:00hrs his cellmate shanked him, then beat him with a lock in a sock. He's in pretty bad shape." He explained
"Good. Guys like him always get their comeuppance." Jim said flatly
Shifting nervously in his seat, Grissom continued.
"The thing is, he's asking to see Sara. I just thought you should know."