I've been staring at this completed chapter now for two days, trying to make up my mind about whether it feels "right". But going to go with it, so here goes nothing ...
When Sara woke, she hoped for a brief moment that it had all been a nightmare. But when she opened her eyes she saw the shelves of the pharmacy towering above her, and cringed. It wasn't a nightmare, it was real.
For a moment she lay still, getting her bearings. The sun was streaming in hot through the store windows, and the thin blanket draped over her felt stifling. She had no idea who had put it there, knowing everyone had been too tired to care the night before, but felt faintly touched all the same. She saw Grissom asleep to her right, lying on his back and looking peaceful, and on her left lay Catherine, her red hair glowing in the sunshine. Neither of them looked like they were going to wake anytime soon.
Sara pushed the blanket aside, quietly getting to her feet. She saw a used syringe and vial of pethidine abandoned on the counter, and checking behind it, saw Sofia asleep on the floor, alone. She, too, had a blanket laid over her, now fallen to her waist, and her shirt was half undone, her cleavage visible. Sara felt a twinge of conscience, knowing now with the benefit of hindsight that they should never have let Sofia take the journey, and she lingered for a moment to be sure Sofia was breathing before moving away.
She made her way outside, opening the door carefully so that the bell wouldn't tingle, and emerging into the blinding daylight of another summer's day.
It was a scorcher, the sun high and already over halfway across the sky, indicating early afternoon. A lone fly buzzed near her face, and she swatted it away as her eyes fell on the grocery store across the street. The front window was partially shattered, lines snaking their way through the glass, and on the kerb before it sat Warrick, shoulders hunched.
"Hey," he greeted, spotting her there.
"Hey," she replied.
She did not move for a moment, still unsure how she felt about his violence the night before. But as she looked at his defeated body language and his apologetic brown eyes landed on her she felt herself soften. It was no time to hold grudges, and in any case she didn't have the energy.
"How you doing?" he asked.
"I'm alive," she said, stopping to lean against the post. "Still standing."
It was the most she could say.
"How's the pain?" he asked.
"Fine."
She did not feel like going into it; already it all seemed so far away. It was as if she had lived a dozen lifetimes since Warrick had forced her to her feet at the back of the house, and made her march with them out into the defeated state of oblivion they were now in. In any case, the pain was not so bad, and the physical soreness was nothing compared to the mental devastation.
"Where's Nick?" she added.
"Asleep in the storeroom of the pharmacy," Warrick replied. "He fell asleep about dawn. I slept a few hours and then came out here. The heat woke me up."
He threw a despairing look at the sun.
"There's still plenty of food in the store if you're hungry."
Sara nodded, and promising to be back, wandered into the grocery store. It did not look as bad as she had thought it would – only one shelf near the entrance had been overturned, and cans of spaghetti lay scattered on the floor. The rest of the place seemed relatively intact. But Sara had little in the way of appetite, and feeling her bladder was full, tore open some toilet paper before heading out the rear door with a roll to find a private place behind the shop. When done, she returned, and dropped the roll on a register before moving off into the liquor department. She grabbed a six pack of beer, and wandered back into the sunshine to sit down beside Warrick.
"Beer for breakfast," he commented, casting it a glance as she grabbed at one.
But Sara was done caring.
"You want one?" she offered.
"Absolutely," he replied.
She passed him one before opening her own, and took a welcome swig of the warm liquor. Beside her Warrick tossed the cap into the gutter and gulped a few mouthfuls, still looking depressed.
"I take it Catherine's still asleep?" he asked.
"She's out like a light," Sara confirmed.
Warrick nodded. "I think she took it hard last night. I mean, it's not so bad for me, I don't have any family, but for her, with Lindsey … it's gotta be tough, you know?"
Sara nodded, knowing what he meant. She was lucky, if anything, that most of the people she cared about were here with her. The only ones she mourned for were Brass and Greg, and there was nothing she could do for them now. But for the others, who all had loved ones, and for Catherine, who had a child, she knew it was heartbreaking.
"I think it's hard on them all," she replied. "They all have people they've left behind. And with what we know now …"
She trailed off, knowing they would never see them again. Warrick, seeming to guess her thought, nodded in agreement.
She took another swig of her beer.
"You realise your shirt's open, right?" Warrick asked.
Sara glanced down, and saw her white blouse was unbuttoned part way, but really did not care.
"Does it bother you?" she asked.
"No," he said. "I just don't want to get beat up by Grissom for not telling you."
They shared a brief smile, and the next half hour passed with mundane conversation. Sara had questions lurking in the back of her mind, but had no energy or strength to deal with them. The conversation about what had happened to them all on their search would have to wait for another far distant day, and they spoke about little things until later when Sofia emerged, bags under her eyes and walking stiffly, her eyes landing straight on the six pack beside Sara. Sara wordlessly handed her one, and Sofia sat down with them until, one by one, their colleagues slowly joined them.
Grissom was the last, and when he emerged blinking into the daylight his eyes fell wearily on them all gathered by the roadside. He took in Warrick's arm wrapped around Catherine's waist, Nick's defeated expression, and then stopped on Sara. He glanced at her open shirt, her second beer glistening in the sun, and then motioned to Warrick.
"Move over."
They budged along to make room, and he sat down beside her.
"You sleep well?" Catherine asked, as if trying to pull herself together. Warrick's fingers squeezed her waist.
Grissom looked at her, startled by the question.
"No," he replied simply.
His hand settled on Sara's leg, and Sara found the gesture comforting. She knew it was a promise that whatever had happened, and however she felt, he would help her through it.
"Well," Nick said, bravely taking a deep breath and squinting in the sunlight, "what the hell do you wanna do now?"
"Damned if I know," Warrick replied, drinking.
"We should head back," Catherine said. "To the house."
She said it with comfortable certainty, as if it was a done deal, but Sofia raised an eyebrow.
"You're kidding, right? What you really feel like right now is more hiking?"
"We hiked our legs off last night, Cath," Nick said, swiftly backing her up. "And it's a long way."
"I know," she replied, unswayed. "But it's off the beaten track, so at least we'll be safe. Those thugs won't find us there. And if there's any way home, that's where it'll be – where it all began."
Sara knew she was right, and seconds later, despite not really discussing it, they seemed agreed. They raided the grocery store and pharmacy until they had a dozen bulging bags of supplies between them, alcohol included, and then they reluctantly set off. The hike was uneventful except for the depressing mood along the way, and when they arrived at the country house it was night-time, and they found it resting peacefully under the stars, waiting for them.
"Home sweet home," Sara said, dumping her bags on the kitchen table.
"Home sweet home?" Warrick echoed. "How much have you been drinking?"
"Well we're still here, so … not enough," she finished, giving a brief smile.
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "You gonna guzzle all that yourself or are you planning to share?"
"You only had to ask."
Sara passed her a bottle. She half expected Grissom to comment, but he didn't, seeming unbothered. He moved instead from the kitchen to the living room, lighting the candles so that soft light flickered pleasantly throughout, and then packed away the groceries before taking a beer for his own. The group migrated to the lounge suite, and when Sara sat down she caught a hint of a sad expression on his face which told her that for all his appearance of coping, his wounds were as deep as any of theirs, and his resilience was worn through. Spotting this, Sara put a hand on his thigh, and moved into his lap. The shift seemed to surprise him, but after a moment he smiled warmly, and wrapped an arm snug around her waist. On the arm chair opposite, Sofia slipped another pill into her mouth, and put her feet up on the coffee table.
"Well," Nick said, opening a fresh beer, "let's make a toast."
"To what?" Catherine asked, evidently not believing they had anything at all to celebrate. She cracked open a beer and got snug in her chair, tucking her feet under her.
"To getting out of there alive," Warrick suggested.
His eyes were laced with mental pain of recent memory.
"To survival?" Sofia clarified.
"It'll do for now," Nick agreed. "Cheers."
They clinked bottles, and Sara raised her own before taking another swig. She felt pleasantly snug in Grissom's arms, his possessive hold of her both sexy and comforting, and as the evening passed she knew she was fast getting tipsy. She sensed, too, Grissom's inhibitions crumble away as his hand slipped from her waist to under her blouse, stroking her flat stomach, and she knew that later, upstairs, they would be having sex. As time passed the conversation bubbled from the depressing to the jovial, and somehow twisted itself into a humorous, drunken game of truth. Sara discovered that Catherine, born and bred in Las Vegas, held her alcohol well, and furthermore was the life of the party.
"First time I stripped?" Catherine asked, repeating the question Sofia had asked her. "Depends for what reason."
"For any reason," Sofia replied, snuggled up in her armchair and giving a curious smile.
"First time I was naked with a guy? Sixteen. I did my first striptease for a boyfriend at seventeen, did it for a living at nineteen."
"You weren't nervous?"
"First time on stage I was," Catherine confessed. "But it doesn't last long. Soon you enjoy it. You enjoy the attention."
"And when did you stop?" Warrick asked.
"Publicly? A few years later. Privately –" she threw him a flirtatious look, her red hair falling back, "- I never did."
Warrick's eyes held her with rapt attention. But Sara knew that Catherine spoke openly only because none of it mattered. Stuck in this new, plagued world, nothing to do with their old lives had any meaning now, and the magic of being released from all the rules, conformities and weight of their lives was intoxicating.
Sara felt Grissom's hand slip out from under her shirt and he moved to dislodge her from his lap.
"Where are you going?" Catherine asked, somewhat accusingly.
He held up an empty beer bottle. "I'm out."
"You thirsty? Or just ducking away when it's getting interesting?" she challenged. "Don't tell me you're afraid you're going to get asked something."
She raised an eyebrow, teasing.
"He's only afraid he'll have to answer," Warrick said.
"You know," Sofia added, grinning up at Grissom from her armchair, "some people could call that anti-social."
Grissom gave them a level look, but did not bolt. He stood his ground, and swiftly one-upped them.
"You want to know about the first time I was naked with someone?" he queried innocently. "First time was at twenty-three with a friend from college. First time it really meant something – two years ago with Sara, a Sunday after work, in my bedroom."
And with that he turned and headed for the kitchen. Sara felt her mouth drop open – catching grins from all those around her – and smiled, quickly excusing herself.
"Uh, I'll just –"
She motioned to the kitchen and rose.
"You'll just what?" Catherine asked. "Flee?"
"Wimp out?" Nick added.
"Someone's getting laid tonight," Warrick teased.
"They'll be at it like rabbits," Nick said. "We'll have to replace the springs on their bed in the morning."
"Assuming they use the bed," Catherine put in.
They laughed, but Sara ignored them, padding her way into the kitchen after Grissom. She found him standing at the bench, unwrapping a new carton of beer and grinned as she sidled up to him.
"You didn't think of checking with me before we divulge details about our sex life?"
"I didn't give details," he countered happily. "I gave my perception."
"That's virtually the same thing."
"Well I'm sorry if I offended you. It was unintentional."
"You didn't offend me," she said, smiling.
She put her hand on his waist. If anything, she was utterly flattered, and all the more eager to slip upstairs. He gazed at her a moment, and she saw him pass a stealthy glance toward the living room.
"Would you like to get some air?"
She slipped her fingers into his. "I'd love some."
They retreated outside, ignoring Warrick's shout of "Take a condom!" and settled on the swing seat on the verandah. It was a perfect night – the starry sky cloudless, and the heat from the day not quite gone. Sara knew perfectly well from Grissom's roaming hand earlier that he did not simply have an intellectual conversation on his mind, and was not disappointed when he opened proceedings with curling a hand around her thigh, and leaning in to take her lips. It was a long kiss, and he tasted of beer, but he was romantic and gentle, and when he pulled away he pushed her hair back behind her ear.
"How are you doing?" he asked seriously.
"I'm fine," Sara replied, somewhat honestly. "I'm no better or worse than anyone else."
"Sara –" Grissom grew suddenly awkward, hesitating, "- with what happened to you in that house, what he almost did, it's okay if you –"
"I'm not bothered by it," she cut in, knowing where he was heading. "You came to my rescue, you got me out of there, and that's all that counts. I do not want to carry it with me for the rest of my life, and I certainly don't want it affecting our relationship. I'm okay to do everything we've always done; I'm not damaged."
He looked relieved.
"Good. But if that changes, just talk to me. I want you to know that no matter what happens here, what tomorrow holds, or the day after, we can get through this. We'll be okay."
"I know," she said, nodding. "Like we've always said, at least we're here together."
She felt a twinge of sadness for the others, hearing their laughter echo from inside. She knew it was more than the rest of them had, and their laughs tonight might be their last. But there was so little she could do to help them.
He leaned in and kissed her, and this time, he did not draw away. They kissed, making out with open mouths, tongues dancing until Grissom tugged her into his lap, and when she straddled him they unleashed their passion on each other. Sara heard raucous laughter coming from inside, and knew the others were all thoroughly drunk and getting louder, but the noise fell away into the distance as Grissom's hands found her and as hers found him. She untucked his shirt, sliding her hands underneath to feel his warm chest and back, stroking and holding, and he quickly freed the last of her shirt buttons, slipping his hands inside. It was not long before his hands found her breasts, and as they made contact she pulled away from his kisses, unable to do both at once. She stifled a moan, breathing hard as his fingers ducked around to undo her bra catch. And yet despite everything, Grissom seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever. Whether because he was being sensitive to her ordeal, or because he was just in the mood to take his time and forget about it all, he seemed keen to savour the moment and enjoy her. The minutes drifted past in a pleasant state of romance until some time later, when her hands had undone his belt buckle and dipped inside, and his were heading in a similar direction, when the laughter from inside suddenly escalated, and Grissom froze, breaking free of kissing her neck, ears peeled.
It sounded to Sara as if the four inside had moved into the kitchen on the other side of the window, and she stilled her hands a moment.
Their hesitation was justified when a moment later a knock sounded, and they saw a shadow of Catherine fall onto the verandah through the wire door.
"Grissom?"
Grissom quickly pulled Sara's shirt back around her, clasping a single button, and Sara climbed off his lap.
"You can come out, Catherine," he replied.
Catherine emerged on the verandah, her red hair slightly ruffled, her hand clutching a fresh beer and her feet bare. Her perfectly painted toenails were visible in the moonlight.
"We're going to play some strip poker if you want in," she said, not hesitating.
Grissom stared.
"You're what?" Sara asked.
"You heard," she said, giving a carefree, drunken smile. "If you're in, you're in, if you're not, stay out here."
She turned and made to head back, but Grissom stopped her.
"Catherine –"
"We're adults, Gil," she cut in, smiling. "Don't go all Ecklie on us."
"I wasn't going to," he said, and looked almost offended. "It's your business. I was just going to say put on some socks and a jacket – or you'll give them an edge."
She smiled, and looked touched by his protection.
"And Catherine – take care of Sofia."
"She doesn't need protection. She's a killshot."
"Just do it anyway," he requested.
She shrugged, and headed back inside.
"Strip poker?" Sara repeated, laughing.
"Haven't you ever played?" he asked.
"You're telling me you have?"
He hesitated. "A long time ago."
He did not divulge further details, and Sara could only guess it had been in the context of a former relationship. She knew he loved poker, and for him to have dabbled briefly in strip poker would not have surprised her. She did not pry – what was past was past, and she was not keen either to share details of her games with her own former flames either. Some things were better left buried.
More laughter reverberated from the kitchen, and there was a scraping of chairs as they sat down.
"Take a seat, Curtis!" Nick chimed, his hand patting wood.
"You realise I'm covered in bruises?" Sofia asked.
Warrick made a sceptical noise. "You're still the hottest detective in PD."
"You should hear the way they talk about you behind your back," Catherine added.
"Bruises don't matter," Nick said lightly. "After what happened out there, I tell ya, I've got a few of my own. We can compare, trade battle scars, come on –"
He patted the seat again.
Sofia laughed. "Let me just grab another drink."
"All right!" Catherine said. "Sit down, boys. Rules …"
Sara listened as Catherine established the rules. But as she listened to them banter and laugh she felt a strange new sense of isolation, as if she had been moved to swing shift all over again, shut out from the team and their fun and friendship, banished from the group.
"Would you like to play?" Grissom asked, observing her closely.
Sara turned. "No," she said, smiling. "I'm lousy at poker."
"I'm not," he offered.
Sara watched him closely. There was a twinkle in his eye, and she saw he had long left boss mode behind, somewhere back in the city, after her attack. He now seemed completely at ease, the unwound Grissom the rest of the team rarely saw.
"If you want to play, we can play," he said. "I'll take care of you. We could get revenge."
There was a playful look in his eye which made Sara suddenly think that he had not failed to notice that her shirt had been hanging open all day, or that Warrick or Nick had probably noticed. The thought of seeing what he would do to them was fun and intriguing, but she hesitated. The risk of losing was there, but she doubted if any of them would remember it in the morning, or that she would be naked alone. And as she looked out into the dark desert and their terrible isolation, into the world which had no rules, she couldn't care anymore. No one would ever catch them.
She grinned. "I'm game if you are."
He took her hand. "Then let's go."
They re-entered through the kitchen door and the four at the table looked up. Warrick was shuffling cards with expert speed, like one who had years of experience.
"We're in," Sara declared, grinning. She snatched up a fresh beer and moved to take a seat.
"Well, well!" Nick declared. "Step up, take a seat! Right here, boss man –"
"Wonders never cease," Warrick said, looking impressed. "Didn't think you two would have the guts."
"The guts to what?" Sara asked, feeling a stab of competitiveness. "To thrash you?"
"Oooh," he said, mocking being wounded. "Those are fighting words."
"Get ready to lose," Grissom said.
Warrick began to deal the cards. Sara felt a thrill of adrenaline.
"You sure you're okay with this?" Catherine asked, picking up her own. "You know you're drunk, right?"
"She's not half as drunk as you are," Warrick replied.
"Or you," Sofia added, looking amused.
"Well if being trapped in this godforsaken place isn't a reason to let off steam, I don't know what is," Warrick replied.
"I'm fine," Sara assured Catherine, and meant it. "Let's go."
"All right," Nick said. "But don't say we didn't check first. Watch out, Sidle."
"You just worry about yourself, Nicky," Catherine said, winking.
And in no time it began.
If someone had told Sara years earlier that she would end up playing strip poker with her team – and her boss to boot – she would have given them directions to the nearest rehab centre. But play they did, and it was such liberating fun that Sara soon found herself laughing through the entire thing, giggling uncontrollably with the alcohol. They were all drunk, and all thoroughly beyond caring. Sara soon picked up the game, and found her feet with it during the first few rounds as Catherine, Warrick and Nick all lost socks, and by the time the real action started, she had it nailed. All of the others, however, turned out to be proficient players, with Warrick and Sofia also proving adept, yet in the end luck proved to be the major factor in whoever won each round.
Sara noted with interest the motivations of each of them, and quickly learned their style of play. Grissom, when he won, was chivalrous in protecting Sara and Sofia, but seemed to regard any of the others – including Catherine –as fair game. Catherine, on the other hand, went freely for the guys with every victory, taking their socks and pants from them with a saucy smile, and both Warrick and Nick happily retaliated. Catherine stripped her pants and tank top with barely a blush, giving the guys a full view of her black lingerie, and Sara saw Nick take in a sharp breath at the sight. Sofia, when she won, seemed to decide that the fairest option was to nominate whoever was wearing the most, therefore keeping things fair, and Sara, not wanting anyone to be completely humiliated, followed suit.
Half an hour later, all of them had lost clothes. Catherine was in her lingerie, Nick and Warrick bare chested, and Grissom and Sofia in their shirts. Sara had her own blouse still on, until Nick took the next victory.
"Come on, Sara," Nick said, beckoning. "Hand it over."
Sara hesitated, buying time by taking another swig of beer. She knew she was going to have a head-splitting hangover in the morning, but at least she would have company with that one.
"You know, if you want to back out, there's still time," Catherine offered.
"You say that to her?" Warrick protested. "Why's she get special treatment?"
"She's had an ordeal," Grissom reminded him.
"It's okay," Sara said, waving them down.
She stood, and glad that the night was at least warm, reached for the buttons.
"I tell you what," Nick interrupted. "I'll make you a deal. You can either give us the shirt, or answer a question truthfully."
"What's the question?" Catherine asked.
"Well," Nick said, "we'll take the shirt, or you can tell us what you and Grissom did in the barn that day."
Sara mind's shot back to the sex they had had in the barn, to the oral pleasure she had given, and felt herself go red. What they had done was private, and there was no way she would ever tell them. She cleared her throat, grinning, and reached for the buttons on her shirt, working her way down.
"Now that's telling," Sofia said, an amused look on her face.
"You realise you just incriminated yourself?" Catherine asked.
"It's no one's business," Sara said, grinning nevertheless at the memory as she passed the shirt to Nick.
"You could've lied and said you'd done nothing," Catherine said.
"Yeah, right," Warrick said. "As if anyone would've believed that."
The game continued to degenerate with each sip of alcohol, and as it grew wilder, several things happened which Sara could not help noticing, and of which she was careful to never mention again later. Catherine lost her bra to Warrick, slipping it off sexily before flicking her hair over her shoulder and unashamedly handing it over, and Warrick, staring at her perfect bare chest, took in a sharp breath. He shifted slightly in his seat, and Sofia, who was sat next to him, suddenly looked swiftly away from his lap, biting down on a grin as she slipped Sara a raised eyebrow from across the table. Sara interpreted it perfectly, and knew he had an erection. She had a brief moment of devilish temptation to finish off the game and make him remove his underwear, but in the end, didn't, sure that from Catherine's wild flirtation that she already had it well in hand. Catherine, however, seemed to decide that things needed evening up, and used her next victory to stray from her usual target of the men to strip Sofia of her shirt – the only one who still had it on – causing Nick to call her a traitor.
"Picking on your own sex?" he taunted. "Whatever happened to the sisterhood and all that?"
"Would you rather it's you, Nicky?" Catherine teased, flashing a look that she wasn't above changing her mind.
"Hey, I'm not ashamed of my body," Nick replied, at ease in his briefs. "I'm the man here."
"Oh please," Warrick scoffed, "I've seen you in the change rooms."
"You want to compare here? I'm not small – I'm bigger than you. When it comes to manhood at this table, there's only one here who's bringing it –"
"Oh please. Don't make statements you can't back up."
"I'm not."
"You know there's an easy way to settle this," Sofia said, laughing.
"Okay," Nick said, holding up his hands. "I'm willing to prove it, I'm not ashamed. Come on, Catherine, hit me –"
"Fine," Catherine said. "Go ahead, then. If that's how you want it."
She stalled Sofia's movements with a hand, and Nick stood to take it in her place.
"You know there's more to being a man than the size of your penis, you know? It's about protecting the ladies –" he gestured to Sofia "- I want it on the record I'm being chivalrous here, shielding a friend –"
"Yeah, right," Warrick said. "Well when we get back we'll tell Ecklie all about how noble you were."
"That's a conversation I won't miss," Sara joked, imagining it.
Nick dropped his briefs.
Instantly Sara didn't know where to look, as Nick stepped out of his briefs and held up his hands, on full display. But he hadn't been lying – he was a fair size, and not bad looking at that. Across the table, Sofia collapsed into giggles, head in her hand, and Catherine raised an eyebrow.
"I'm impressed," she offered.
"See?" Nick said. "I told you so. I want to thank you all for an enjoyable game – Catherine, you're a damn good sport –"
"Wait a minute," Warrick complained. "You're acting like it's a victory, you haven't won anything, you lost –"
"You got a problem here, Warrick?"
"I don't have a problem, I'm just saying it's nothing to brag about."
"Well either back it up or shut up," Nick taunted, smiling.
"Fine."
Warrick stood, gripping the hem of his boxers.
Grissom swiftly intervened. "Warrick, don't. That's enough. Put it away –"
But he was too late; Warrick had already dropped them. Sofia giggled harder, and Sara got up from her chair, deciding it was time to leave.
"Well what do you want me to do with that?" Nick asked. "Applaud?"
"I don't want you to do anything with it, I'm just making a point."
"It's not a competition here, man, I'm just taking one for a friend," Nick argued. "Sparing her the pain, being a gentleman."
"And it's much appreciated," Grissom said flatly. "Now both of you get dressed."
"And just for the record," Sara added, pushing her chair in, "you're both wrong. Neither of you is the man here."
And with a smile that made her point, she put her empty beer bottle on the sink, and turned to head up the stairs with Grissom.
XXX
Sara spent the next hour in the bedroom with Grissom, locking the door and slowly resuming the wave of passion that had been interrupted by the game earlier. It was dark, but the moonlight that streamed in through the window was bright enough to allow them to see, and in the privacy of the bed they stripped each other of their remaining clothes. Straddling him a few minutes later, Sara eased down on his fullness with relief, her need from the past several hours burning, and began to rock gently. Grissom's hands roved all over her as she moved, dipping from her breasts to her behind and her waist, until after a minute when he took control and rolled her onto her back. He finished the deed with a slow, burning intensity that showed her exactly how long he had been waiting for it, and when they both finally came she closed her eyes, resting a while, out of breath.
She did not know how long they rested, only that a while later everything had fallen strangely silent downstairs, and Sara, the sheets damp and needing a trip to the bathroom, resolved that she should at least check on Catherine and Sofia.
"You sleep," she whispered, kissing Grissom on the cheek. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?"
She slipped out of bed, putting her bra and underwear back on, and snuck out of the room to let him rest. She went down the hallway to use the bathroom, and then went back downstairs. She heard Nick and Sofia's quiet voices coming from outside, but from the living room there was a murmur of moaning and sedate kissing, and Sara stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs as she spotted Catherine and Warrick entwined on the couch.
They were both half naked, wearing only their underwear, but Sara could tell at a glance that they were both trashed. Warrick was on top of her, Catherine with one arm behind her head, lazily soaking up his attention as he kissed her. As Sara watched his hand moved around to her back, and slipped to grope her behind. But when Catherine's eyes stayed closed, and her fingers weakly pushed at his shoulder, half asleep, Sara swiftly moved forward.
She walked over, and gripped Warrick's shoulders.
"Warrick," she said clearly. "Stop. Leave her be –"
He looked up, appearing irritated by her intrusion.
"She's half asleep," Sara said firmly. "She can't consent, you know that."
Warrick looked back to Catherine, and seeing her eyes were closed, sighed. He blinked, rubbing his eyes.
"Geez, I'm sorry, I –"
"It's okay," she soothed, as she saw heavy guilt swamp his features, his actions borne from a pain she understood fully. "Just let her get some rest, okay? She's had enough for tonight. You can talk to her in the morning."
She did not hear Grissom enter the room, but suddenly he was there, and took Warrick gently by the arm.
"I'll take him," he said, looking disappointed at his actions. "You take care of her."
"Take him upstairs," Sara said. "She can sleep down here tonight."
She did not want any risk of Warrick sneaking back to her room if they had taken her upstairs, and wanted to keep her safe in view. As Grissom urged a silent Warrick upstairs to his bedroom, Sara sighed, and reached for the blanket that they had previously used to cover Sofia when she had been ill. Catherine was already drifting, and Sara wrapped it gently over her.
"Warrick?" she slurred, fighting to open her eyes.
"It's Sara," she corrected. "Get some sleep, okay? You need to rest."
She stroked her forehead until she calmed, eyes closing again, and then moved to the kitchen. Their clothes were scattered everywhere, piled like a laundry explosion, and Sara sorted through them to find Catherine's before returning to place them folded on the coffee table beside her, ready for the morning. She then put a bucket beside the couch, and a glass of water on the table.
"Thank you," Catherine breathed. "You're a good friend."
Sara smiled, touched. "Go to sleep. Everything's going to be fine, okay?"
She knew it was a lie, but Catherine drifted off, believing her. Sara lingered for a moment, watching her sleep, and her heart broke for her. She knew nothing was fine, and wondered if Catherine would even survive with the knowledge that she would never see Lindsey again. They would have to take care of her, she knew that much, and was glad that she had come downstairs before she had been able to go any further with Warrick. She knew Catherine cared for Warrick, but the timing was wrong. After another moment she stood, and blew out the candles to go and check on Nick and Sofia.
She found them sat together on the verandah steps, Nick in his briefs and Sofia in her bra and underwear, her bruises visible in the moonlight, but contentedly gazing out at the starry night. The night was peaceful, and they talked softly to each other as they cradled near empty beers.
"… I just keep thinking of my mother," Sofia confessed quietly. "Everything I've never said, what must be happening right now at home. I wish I'd done it all differently. I wish she could know that I'm okay."
"I know what you mean," Nick said, "I've been thinking of my family too. You know it's been three years since I've visited? I mean, really made it back to see everyone? It sure makes you think about what's important. And I'm not sure I've been getting it right. Our jobs in Vegas – they're important, but they're not everything, you know? Things like this, they make you realise that."
It seemed like a deep conversation, and Sara resolved to leave them to it just as they sensed her there. They both turned to look at her.
"You okay?" Nick asked.
"I'm fine," Sara replied. "We're going to bed, okay? I'll see you in the morning."
"Sure. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Sofia added.
Sara returned the sentiment, and left them to it. Little did she know that the night was far from over, and that the worst was yet to come, but as she tiptoed up to bed and joined Grissom all seemed peaceful, and she climbed back into bed beside him and fell asleep.
Despite the humour, I actually found this strangely sad to write, which is probably why I hesitated in posting it. But I still don't regret it. Only one chapter to go I think before the end of the first part of the story, and then the second half will begin. Was a long chapter, but couldn't see any other possible place to cut it. Other than that, hope this read okay. :)