Anyway, that's enough witter. Here's the next chapter. I really do hope you enjoy it. (I was eating a Snickers bar while I wrote it so I certainly enjoyed producing it for you!)
C: 6"If there's any news-"
"I'll phone. Don't worry Warrick," Grissom said to him. He waved his phone at Catherine and raised his eyebrows, wordlessly reminding her to keep her phone with her. She nodded and waved.
Grissom pulled the car door closed and turned to Greg, who was in the driver's seat beside him. "Let's go."
"I don't know where to go," Greg said, "Hospital or home?"
"Home," Grissom and Nick said simultaneously. Grissom expanded, "Sara really does hate hospitals and if what the doc said is right, she just needs lots of rest. I doubt she'll appreciate it if she wakes up in a hospital when she already refused to go near one."
"O-kay. Where does Sara live anyway?" Greg started the car and frowned.
"On Greys Avenue. It's not far from here. Turn right out of the lot," Grissom said, leaving Greg and Nick, who was in the backseat with an unconscious Sara, to wonder just how many times he'd been to her apartment. Nick hastily pushed the thought of Grissom and Sara being together out of his head. Grissom was their supervisor: it was his job to know where they lived.
On the sidewalk outside the lab, Catherine grasped Warrick's hand as they watched Nick's Denali leave the parking lot. For a few seconds, neither said anything although both were worrying about the same thing.
Catherine let out a long sigh, "Another person I've failed with." She said, a hint of regret in her voice.
Warrick frowned, "What? Who?"
"Sara. The two of us should be close." She shrugged at Warrick's raised eyebrow, "Girls gotta stick together around all the testosterone on the team."
Warrick chuckled in understanding.
"You know, I never wanted to deliberately keep things so cool between us, but somehow I have. We're both so stubborn and every time things improve we seem to have some sort of disagreement. I've never taken much time to consider that there may be another side to her than the hardy Sara we see here. And now this."
Sensing that Catherine was feeling more than a little guilt, Warrick put a hand on her shoulder. "Cath, don't feel guilty. So you two haven't connected. That doesn't mean you never will."
Catherine snorted. "Sad how it takes something like this to make me see that."
"Hmmm," Warrick agreed. "But you haven't failed with anyone Cath. Don't think that." He paused for a second then asked, "You think she'll be okay."
"With friends like you guys? Of course!"
"Hey, you're her friend too, you know," Warrick corrected her.
Catherine shook her head, "No. I'm not. But I'm going to change that." When she turned to face Warrick, some of the worry of the past few minutes had passed. "Grissom didn't look too happy when he came out. Maybe his chat with Ecklie didn't go well."
"Damage control?" Warrick asked, certain that Catherine would be able to lessen whatever damage Grissom had caused with the assistant director.
"Guess so," Catherine shrugged. "I hope he didn't say something stupid. You know Grissom usually crosses the line when one of us in involved."
"What did Ecklie wear tonight?" Warrick asked.
"A star. Like off the top of the Christmas tree," Catherine answered.
"I'm surprised he didn't come as the nativity donkey," Warrick mumbled.
Catherine frowned at him curiously, "Why?"
"He's such an ass."
xxx
"Apartment 9," Grissom said, leading the way up the stairs to Sara's apartment. Nick and Greg followed, carrying Sara and her purse respectively. When they stopped outside her door, Grissom turned to Greg.
"Key?"
"Huh?" Greg asked, shaking his head as if he hadn't heard correctly.
"Sara's keys," Grissom clarified.
"I dunno where they are," Greg shrugged.
Grissom sighed and looked down at the purse over his shoulder. Greg followed his eyes and shook his head when realisation hit. "You're kidding, right? Girls hate it when you dig in their purses – and this is Sara. She might just take off my-"
"Greg!" Grissom interrupted, "It's clipped on the strap!"
"Oh…uh sorry. Here you go," Embarrassment clouded Greg's face as he handed the key to Grissom.
"You sure you passed the Observational Proficiencies Greggo?" Nick joked with him.
Greg only cocked his head to the side and gave Nick 'the look' in response.
Grissom pushed the door open and held it there for the two men. Greg entered first, sliding his hand down the wall in search of a light switch. His fingers soon found it and he flipped the lights on.
"Wow. Nice place," he commented, stepping aside to allow Grissom and Nick to enter. He cast a brief glance at Sara but she was still out for the count in the Texan's arms.
"Nick, take her through there," Grissom directed, pointing to a white door.
"I got it," Greg said, slipping past Nick to open the door for him and flip on the light in the bedroom.
Sara's bedroom was as unique as her living room. The whole room was decorated in lilac and deep navy blue. With a rich mahogany queen size bed, a dark wood armoire, and dark blue curtains, the room had the feel of classy simplicity with a subtle wealth. The lilac and navy of the duvet, blinds and walls, however, added a characteristic pertness to an otherwise elegant room. Classic Sara.
"Is that oak?" Greg asked, stepping towards the foot of the bed to rub his hand along its end. "Pricey. How come she can afford this on a state salary?"
Nick ignored him and gently laid Sara down on her bed. Her head rolled to the side and she frowned, moaning softly in her sleep. Nick casts a glance over her body and realised that she was still dressed in the slim black dress she'd worn to the party. It was getting late and the temperature was dropping further so, on the way home, he'd wrapped her up in his jacket. He had no idea what had happened to her tinsel accessories, but he didn't much care. Grissom entered the room and came to a stop beside him, his eyes also on the sleeping woman before them.
"I put the kettle on for some tea," Grissom said.
"Do you, uh, think we should change her?" Nick raised a questioning eyebrow at the man beside him.
"Uh…" Grissom froze. His discomfort at the question was clear in his voice when he answered, "I guess we can't put her to bed dressed like that." His eyes went to Nick, seeking some sort of assurance in the young man's eyes. He found only to confusion and unease that he, himself was feeling. Another glance at Sara quelled his doubts. The dress was not exactly the most comfortable looking attire, though she looked gorgeous in it, and she could certainly not sleep in Nick's jacket. For herself, Sara looked washed-out, weak and restless. Grissom noticed goosebumps on her legs and made his decision. He didn't want to violate Sara's privacy but his concern was growing and pyjamas would really be better for her.
"Greg, her pyjama's should be in the top drawer," he turned and pointed to the armoire. Greg nodded and pulled open the drawer, picking up a small pale yellow pile of clothes.
"Maybe we could wake her up?" Greg asked as he came to stand beside them. Both turned to him looking reluctant. "Or I could just do it?" His voice took on a lusty tone. "After all, Sara and I have been … decontaminated together. That involved no clothes at all."
Nick felt a pang of jealousy run through him- at Grissom for his increasingly apparent intimate knowledge of Sara's apartment and at Greg, for his having been anywhere near a naked Sara. He pushed the feelings down and sat down on the bed next to Sara and pulled her feet onto his lap. Carefully, Nick undid the straps on her heels and gently slid them off her feet.
Sara gave a plaintive moan and rolled over, pulling her feet from his grip. "That tickles."
"Sara?" Nick asked, "You awake?"
Sara rolled over to face them and slowly opened her eyes. She shook her head. "Uh uh."
"How are you feeling?" Nick asked, gently grasping her hand in his own.
In response, a rough cough rose in her throat and Sara curled into a ball as the force of it jolted her body. When it subsided, she rolled over and looked at Nick pathetically.
"Not great," Nick answered his own question. His hand went to her forehead. "Fever seems a bit better, though."
"What's wrong with me?"
"Doc Robbins guessed it's severe fatigue. Your body couldn't cope anymore so you collapsed," Greg explained.
"How did I get here?" Sara frowned and her eyes scanned her bedroom.
"We drove you back from the lab," Grissom explained. "Are you okay to change into your pyjamas by yourself?"
Sara ignored his question and covered her face with her hands, rolling over and pulling her legs up to her chest. It was embarrassing enough that she'd collapsed at the lab, but now she'd been rushed home and Grissom was asking if she was capable of changing her clothes. Like some invalid. Sara felt exposed and vulnerable. Of the graveyard shift, only Grissom had ever been to her apartment before and although she appreciated what they were doing for her, it was awkward to have them having seen her apartment before she 'prepped' for them to see it. There were, after all, things that she didn't want them to catch sight of.
"Sara?" Nick asked softly, putting an arm on her shoulder. Nick. God, he was always so sensitive. He seemed so attuned to what she was feeling. "Sweetie, we just wanna get you into bed so you can get better," his voice as rich with comfort and warmth. Sara took a deep breath and sighed. She'd have to face it all sometime. Best just do it. They were, after all, just looking out for her. She should be touched by their thoughtfulness.
"Thanks," She said softly, unrolling and pushing herself up into a sitting position.
"Here you go, Sar," Greg said, holding out her pyjamas with a small smile.
"Thanks Greggo," she returned the smile and a wide yawn escaped her. Slowly, she pushed herself onto her feet. Instantly, her hand went to the wall behind her bed for support. Nick was on his feet in a heartbeat, offering her his arm. Sara smiled miserably up at him.
"Thanks cowboy, but I'll be okay," she whispered, then added softly, "I have to be."
Reluctantly, Nick took a step back. His eyes didn't leave her until the bathroom door closed behind her. He turned to find Grissom and Greg both watching in solemn silence as he had.
"Damn, that girl is stubborn," Greg muttered. Nick rolled his eyes in agreement.
"The kettle must be off by now," Grissom said, looking out towards the kitchen. "Come on, Greg, let's see what we can whip up for our patient to eat."
Nick elected to stay behind to open the bed and help Sara when she emerged from the bathroom. Grissom and Greg soon found themselves rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets in search of food.
"Aaw, cute," Greg crooned.
"What Greg?" Grissom turned around, curious to see what could be 'cute' in such a fiercely disciplined woman's apartment.
"Sara's pictures," Greg pointed to three photos standing on the edge of the counter next to an empty fruit bowl. One was of the graveyard shift CSIs. They were all dressed in matching sports jackets.
"The department baseball game," Grissom explained, chuckling to himself. "That was before you joined the team."
"I can guess," Greg laughed, "You all look so different." In the photo, Grissom had no beard, Catherine had short hair, Warrick's 'fro was a great deal flatter and Sara had her hair tied up in two pigtails, peeking out from underneath a CSI cap.
"We beat them that year too," Grissom added with a satisfied smirk.
The photo next to it was unfamiliar. It showed two women dressed in bikinis sitting under an umbrella on what was presumably a beach. Greg instantly identified the woman on the left as Sara; her smile was hard to miss. The other woman was blond and Grissom didn't recognise her. He guessed she was a friend of Sara's from San Francisco.
"Looks like life in Frisco was pretty good," Greg commented.
"Hmmm, I'm sure it was sometimes," Grissom said softly.
The third photo showed two children, a boy and a girl sitting side by side on a couch. Greg guessed they were six, maybe seven years old. The boy had ruffled black hair, and was wearing a pair of baggy brown cargo pants and a black sweat top. The little girl was wearing a blue t-shirt with the long white sleeves of a vest poking out, a pair of worn jeans and toecap sneakers. Her loose shoulder-length brown hair and gap-toothed smile gave her away yet again. Grissom frowned. He hadn't noticed this photo the last time he'd been here. Still, Sara's family confession and getting her to bed afterwards had held most of his attention that day.
"Look at those freckles," Greg pointed to Sara's face. "She was so cute."
But Grissom's attention was focused on the cast on the little girl's arm. On Sara's arm. From what he knew of her, Sara wasn't an outdoorsy child, the kind that would break their arm on a jungle gym or falling out of a tree. Sara had been a reader – and books don't break people's arms. She hadn't mentioned anything about her father ever hitting her. Just her mother. Grissom felt a familiar sense of dread rising in him. What if this broken arm was one of many? What if her father really had abused her as well as her mother? What hadn't Sara told him?
A hand suddenly appeared in front of his face and Grissom jerked back.
"Earth to Grissom: you in there?" Greg joked, waving his hands like two windscreen wipers in front of his face.
"What is it Greg?" Grissom asked flatly, more than just a little annoyed at being interrupted.
"Water's boiled."
"Get four mugs. That cupboard," Grissom said, pointing. He went over to another cupboard and opened it, pulling out a jar of instant coffee, a sugar bowl and a box of teabags.
As Greg took the mugs from the cupboard he cast a suspicious glance at Grissom. His supervisor sure did know his way around Sara's apartment. Perhaps their relationship extended beyond friendship?
Sara emerged from the bathroom wearing an enticingly short pair of checked yellow and white cotton shorts and a pale yellow fleece top with Tweety on it. Nick's eyes drifted up and down her exposed legs and he felt a rush of heat. God, could those legs be any longer? 'Down boy', his mind reprimanded him. A ragged cough that had Sara keeled over and grasping the bathroom doorframe for support quickly killed the sensation and Nick hurried over to help her. Instead of taking his offered hand for support, Sara let herself fall onto his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Surprised but by no means unhappy, Nick sighed and let his arms close in around her. He kissed the top of her head softly and let his hand slowly follow her spine up and down her back.
"Hey you," he mumbled into her hair, "We'd better get you tucked into bed."
"Mmm?" Sara murmured, slowly losing herself in the warm tenderness of Nick's embrace.
"Am I gonna have to carry you again?" Nick mumbled, numbly clinging to reality. But her body was warm in his arms and he unconsciously pulled her closer, aware only of how perfectly their bodies fitted together and the soft vanilla scent of her hair. Nick felt suddenly selfish. Here she was, Sara, in his arms. Warm, loving, seeking comfort – trusting. So. Perfectly. With. Him. He didn't want to release her. Her body was trembling lightly but somehow he felt that it was something their embrace could remedy.
Nick's bliss was shattered when another cough took Sara's body, causing it to shudder in his arms. Reality struck like a bucket of ice water, drenching his bliss and chilling his heart.
As soon as it subsided, he tugged Sara towards the waiting confines of her bed.
"Sleep, now." He said softly.
"Wow! Sara!" Greg exclaimed suddenly. He was standing just inside the door, holding a hot water bottle. The young CSI's eyes were racing up and down her body, taking in every inch. Nick felt a surge of protectiveness but Greg only smiled. "I never had you pegged as a Tweety Bird fan," He said, raising a curious eyebrow.
Sara shrugged and sat down on her bed, "I never thought you weren't one. Guess that relationship between us that you're always suggesting will never really work out." A cheeky smile covered her weary features.
A grin stretched Nick's face. "That's twice she's got ya Greggo."
Greg leaned over to Nick and whispered, "I'm just going easy on her 'cause she's sick."
"I heard that!" Sara declared, lying back against the pile of pillows Nick had prepared and smiling smugly.
"And again?" Nick laughed.
Greg's smile dropped a little and he held out the hot water bottle. "Here. I'm going to help Grissom." When Nick took it Greg turned and headed out towards the kitchen.
Nick turned his attention back to Sara. The vivacity of her exchange with Greg, although short, had clearly left her feeling drained. She lay now with her eyes closed, frowning slightly. Nick lifted the duvet and put the hot water bottle against her feet then pulled the covers up to her shoulders.
"Mmm," Sara murmured happily, "That feels nice." Her words were slightly slurred, heavy with fatigue. He sat down on the bed beside her and kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Sar, I think Grissom's making you something to eat. You need to stay awake a little longer.
Sara nodded slowly and Nick glanced at the clock. It was nearing 10 pm. He'd usually be getting up around this time, but the Christmas party had started at 8. Not too great for the Graveyard shift but pretty normal for the other two shifts. This was the one day when the LV Crime Lab was closed so, thankfully, they didn't have to head back to the lab to start shift.
"I hope this will be okay. It's all I could find in the house besides a can of soda and a box of crackers," Grissom announced as he entered the room holding a plate and a mug. Behind him, Greg entered toting three mugs of hot coffee. Grissom carefully handed Sara the plate. It contained a piece of toast with peanut butter, cut up into small triangles. Sara smiled at the shapes before gratefully accepting a mug of tea from him.
"I chose camomile: should help you sleep," Grissom explained. "I know you don't drink normal tea."
"Thanks," Sara said softly, "I appreciate this."
"Here, let me help you," Nick offered to hold the plate while she sat up against the headboard. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he held out the plate. "Eat up!"
Like a small child, Sara's hand hovered over the triangles, carefully seeking the most appealing looking one. She took a small bite of her chosen piece and sighed happily.
"And some Java for the healthy," Greg smiled and handed Grissom and Nick each a mug.
"Thanks Greg," Grissom muttered, closely studying Nick and Sara. He noticed the way Nick was carefully watching Sara, offering her another piece of toast when she finished one. It was a small gesture, but sitting there beside her when she was so vulnerable made it intimate. Grissom had been glad that Nick seemed to have taken the lead. He, himself, was never good with other people, let alone sick ones. He couldn't openly confess how he felt about others. It seemed almost artificial to make it so obvious, as if proclaiming it too often minimised it; made it less deep. He showed his love in other ways: standing up for his team, listening to their problems and offering solutions- cutting Sara's toast up into small shapes like he'd done for Lindsay when she was smaller and sick. Plus, this was Sara: the one person he always seemed to have a way of hurting when she needed him. Nick, on the other hand, seemed to have a talent for caring, as Sara looked more relaxed than he had expected her to be, under the circumstances. Grissom felt a small pang of jealousy at Nick's ability to comfort, and be comforted by, others. The team had often held it against him when he over sympathised with victims, but Grissom could now see the value in being able to sympathise with others.
Still, there was something else in the way Nick was watching Sara. Something tender…loving. And not on a friendship level either. He remembered their subtle handholding earlier in the break room and something in his mind twigged. Could Nick and Sara together? He frowned at Sara, seeking something to either confirm or disprove his theory. Coffee eyes frowned back and Grissom flushed with embarrassment. She'd caught him staring unabashedly at her.
"What is it, Grissom?" Sara asked, frowning and lifting her mug to her lips. In a panic, Grissom's eyes darted away from her eyes and came to rest on her tea mug.
"Uh… Sara, you're shaking," He said, noticing the slow quivering of the mug.
"You were squinting like you do when you look for evidence," Sara said flatly.
"You look pale too," Grissom added, "Perhaps we should ask Doc. Robbins to do some blood work on you?"
Before Sara had a chance to protest, Greg stood up. "That's a good idea. I'll head back to the lab and ask him. I can stop at a pharmacy and pick up something for that cough, too."
"Uh uh," Sara shook her head. She passed her empty mug to Nick's waiting hand and snuggled down under her duvet. "You're overreacting. I just need sleep."
"Sara, they're right. You should check just to be sure," Nick said.
"You're so pale, you look anaemic," Grissom added.
"Nobody's taking any of my blood." Sara said firmly. "Guys, I really appreciate this – you've done a lot for me tonight. But leave it alone. I need to rest up before shift tomorrow."
"Oh no you don't," Grissom said quickly, "I'm putting you on a week of paid leave."
Sara just sighed in response.
"Hey Nick?" Greg asked, "You think you could give me a ride back to the lab. Now that our tweety bird here is settled, I need to get home. I have a… meeting tomorrow."
"Sure. What's her name?" Nick asked with a knowing smile.
Greg glanced at Sara briefly then sighed, "Angela."
Sara chuckled and smiled as she let herself slip deeper into the soft warmth of her bed. The toast had been nice but drowsiness had begun to creep in on her again.
"I need to be going as well," Grissom rose, picking up their empty mugs. He looked down at Sara," Get some rest. Really. No police scanner. No forensics papers. And especially no lab. Just get better."
Sara smiled weakly, appreciating his concern. It was unlike her to be so submissive, but she really did feel like a truck had hit her. All she wanted was to slip into the all-numbing darkness of sleep and never come back.
"Feel better, Sar," Greg kissed her quickly on the cheek and waved as he and Grissom left the room.
Sara turned her eyes to Nick. Her hand found its way out from under the covers into his. She squeezed it and smiled. Nick leaned down and put his cheek against hers so his mouth was at her ear.
"I don't wanna leave you like this." He whispered.
Sara wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him into her. "I'll be okay. Take my key, drop them off and… come back."
"You don't mind me staying here tonight?" Nick questioned.
"I want you to, please?" Sara said softly. His cheek left hers but his face remained close as he looked deep into her eyes.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was tender and warm. Sara's hand found its way into his hair and Nick found himself running his hand up and down her arm.
"Nick? You coming?" Greg's voice came.
Nick pulled away immediately, his eyes darting to the doorway. He sighed with relief. Nobody was there so their secret was safe.
"Yeah! I'll be there now," he called back. When he turned back to Sara, he found her eyes closed. Nick sighed and leaned down to gently kiss the tip of her nose. "You sleep well Sidle." He whispered.
"Hmmm," Sara rolled over onto her side and tugged the duvet up. "Come back soon, cowboy."
A/N I'm going to have to end it there. Literature by recognised authors is calling my name. Still, I'd love to come home to some reviews after my exam tomorrow, up for it? Wink wink!