Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. I am just a humble fan and writer.

A/N: Continuation of previous ficlet. Told from Nick's POV (at least for the most part). Not really set in any particular time period, and not really canon. Hope you like it.

Ficlet 02 (ch.2): Pottery Mayhem

He thought they were going to the movies. In fact he was sure they agreed to go see the new action flick. And yet here they were, in a cluttered room -- wearing aprons.

Nick looked around, he was not good a sculptor. He was doing his best to control the wet clay on his pottery wheel, but it kept coming out sloped, or misshapen. Sara on the other hand was humming -- actually humming! She was slowly molding the clay, creating the indentations, then smoothing them out again. It was obvious she was making a bowl. He was, on the other hand, making... something that couldn't possible hold anything

Pottery was not his thing.

He tried to think of what they agreed on; taking in a movie, going out to dinner. Maybe it was too much like a date, so Sara decided on this instead. He frowned.
Well, at least he was able to spend more time with her, so that was a plus. If only he could get the shape right. Any shape was good at this point. He finally decided to stop his wheel -- with his hands.

Bad move.

Clay got everywhere. On his apron, his hands, his face. Was Sara laughing at him?

With a mock glare he faced her, "Is something funny, Sidle?"
"No... just... I think you have a little clay on your face," she was trying not to burst out laughing, but when he tried to wipe the clay off, she lost her resolve and broke out in a fit of hysterics.
"I think I need a towel."
"You need... more than a... towel," Sara managed to say in between giggles.
"Okay, I think I'm done." Nick took off his apron and headed to the sink.
"You're not giving up already? You said you were willing to try something new! Pottery is not that hard."
"Easy for you to say," he tried to wash the clay out of his hair.

Sara just rolled her eyes, and got ready to put her piece in the kiln. After using up nearly all the paper towels, much to the annoyance of the instructor, Nick was more than ready to go.
"How long does it take for your clay to harden?"
"It has to stay overnight," she saw his eyes widen, "we don't have to stay, though. I'll come back tomorrow to pick it up. Thank you." Sara addressed the instructor, who was glad to get the complaining Texan out of her workshop.

The sun was bright outside compared to the dim lighting in the pottery place. Nick was feeling a little guilty about how he behaved and thought about what to say. He looked at her, and though she didn't look upset, looks could be deceiving.
"Ummm... I'm not very artistic, Sara."
"You're also not very patient."
He cringed. Should've seen that one coming.
"I'm sorry." He tried to think of something else to say. Even though he wasn't sure why he didn't want to stay and sculpt, it was no reason to spoil Sara's good time.
"It's okay," she gave him a half smile, "It's nice to know that you're bad at pottery. After all, I can't ride to save my life."
Nick looked at her and smiled, "You know, I'm glad you took me here. I want to share you're interests. Just like you get to experience mine."
She smiled fully, put on her sunglasses, and grabbed his arm.
"How about we go back to our dinner and movie plan?"
"I'd really like that." Nick sighed and Sara grinned at him.
"What?"
"You still have some clay in your hair!" She giggled. He gave up and joined in, both of them laughing hand in hand.

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