AN: Another little ficlet for you guys, hope you like it! We're backtracking a little here to the end of season 4, hope it's not too confusing… Thanks to those of you who took the time to review the last chapter, it's always nice to hear from you!

As always, a big thank you to AM0616/unc-annie for the beta help!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI

Bloodlines

They're in his car, halfway to Sara's place, before Grissom speaks. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She's been staring out the side window the whole ride, the neon lights of the casinos they're passing playing over her face, or what little he can see of it. She doesn't move as she replies. "Not particularly."

He probably should have anticipated her response, and maybe he should let it go, leave her be, but… he can't help but imagine what could have happened tonight, and it leaves him with a block of ice in his stomach.

He pulls into an open parking space near the entrance of her apartment building a few minutes later, half expecting her to bolt as soon as the car comes to a stop, but instead she just leans back in the seat, closes her eyes, and lets out a deep breath.

Before he realizes what he's doing, he reaches for her hand. "Are you OK?"

She doesn't pull away, at least. "Sure, just great."

"Sorry, stupid question."

"A little, yeah."

They sit in silence for a long moment, the only sound in the car their breathing, which is almost synchronized. If she feels him watching her, she shows no sign of it, so he just keeps rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand.

"It was just… a couple of beers with Nick and Warrick," she finally says, eyes remaining closed. "I just… didn't eat anything all shift, so I guess it was enough. And you don't have to tell me it was stupid."

"I wasn't going to say that," he argues gently, and she snorts and finally opens her eyes to look at him.

"Sure you weren't."

"Really. A couple of beers, a glass of wine or two… we've all done it." He's not saying it only to make her feel better – it's true. Only last week, he and Jim shared some scotch at PD after shift. He didn't even think twice about driving home, and if he'd gotten pulled over, he would most likely have been over the new, lower limit. He doesn't know why that cop stopped Sara, but if her driving was erratic, he doubts alcohol was the reason – more likely, it was exhaustion, which is just as dangerous as alcohol behind the wheel, to be sure, but an occupational hazard for all of them. "As long as that's all it is."

Her eyes narrow. "Did Brass say something to you?"

"No." He frowns. "Like what?"

He's very familiar with the 'deer in headlight' look, having seen it on numerous suspects over the years. It's the first time he sees it on Sara's face, though.

For a moment, he thinks she's going to try to brush it off, but then she sighs. "I, uh… a couple of months ago, we had that early rollout, the couple killed in their driveway, remember?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't supposed to be on call, I'd had a bad shift, so I had a beer with breakfast. And then I got called in anyway, obviously. I was trying to hide the smell with cough drops, Brass called me out on it."

He considers her words for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I don't have a drinking problem, I swear," she continues before he can say anything. "I know everyone says that, but I really don't."

"I believe you."

She stares at him for a long moment, as if trying to find doubt in his eyes, but she doesn't, of course, because he does believe her. Whatever Sara's problem is, he's pretty sure it's not alcohol.

"Thank you."

Again, he could leave it there.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" he asks instead. "While I can't escape?"

She huffs a small laugh. "Like what?"

"I know you're still mad about the promotion that wasn't."

"Not…" She looks away from him, down at their hands, and he realizes he's still rubbing idle patterns against her skin. She turns her hand over, and he automatically interlaces their fingers. For a moment, he wonders if he's gone too far, but she just squeezes his hand before looking up again. "I wasn't mad about you recommending Nick. OK, I was, for a little while."

"Then what?"

"I just… wish you'd told me, before he did."

How had that never occurred to him? He knows Sara hates being caught off guard, even when it's something small, insignificant. This was anything but.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, trying to put as much sincerity into the two words as he can. "I should have told you as soon as I made the decision."

"You should have." She lets out a breath, and for some reason, he gets the impression that she's also making a conscious effort to let it go. "So, what happens now?"

The leap might have thrown someone else, but he knows what she means immediately. "I still think you should take some time off."

He expects her to argue, but to his surprise, she just nods. "You're probably right."

"You'll have to complete some P.E.A.P. counseling sessions," he continues. "I'll talk to them, get everything set up."

Her mouth turns up into a small smile. "Thanks."

He wants to reach out, push her hair behind her ear, try to erase the dark circles under her eyes. Instead, he squeezes her hand once more before letting it go. "Get some sleep. Call me when you want to pick up your car, we can stop by the lab to get the paperwork for your time off filled out on the way."

"OK." She unbuckles her seat belt and reaches for the door. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah."

She offers another smile, which he returns, before getting out of the car and going into the building.

He stays where he is for another moment, fighting the urge to follow her.