Finale

Warrick sat beside Nika quietly, waiting for her to wake on her own. Her breathing was deep and even, but she was restless, her feet and fingers twitching sporadically. She inhaled sharply, shifting under the white sheets pulled over her neatly, and Warrick reached out, running his fingers down her arm.

"How you feelin'?" he asked quietly. She sighed, giving him a little shrug.

"How'd it go?" Her voice was a bit croaky, but she didn't seem like she was groggy or hung over at all. That was good.

"Why don't you tell me?" A touch of a smile graced her lips, and she let out a little laugh before turning on her side, facing the direction from which his voice came. Her eyes opened slowly, and she blinked a few times. She started with his hand, his fingers curling easily around her forearm, just under her elbow. Her brows knitted in concentration, eyes not having focused in so long it took too much effort, but she traced his fingers with her own, finally sliding her palm over the back of his hand and closing her eyes. He took a breath to ask her what was wrong, but she opened her eyes again, blue orbs settling on his face. Concern filled his eyes, but melted away as she smiled and reached out, cupping his cheek in a warm but trembling hand. She tugged on his wrist, and he stood while she scooted over a little, barely making enough room for him to lie beside her on the tiny hospital cot.

"Did he say how long?" The smile that had made its way to Warrick's lips fell slowly, but he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"He doesn't know." She nodded, letting out a slow, controlled sigh.

"So when can I see the sketch?"

xxx

As Warrick was out of the room, Nika took the time to look around the small breakroom of CSI HQ. Just a round table with a few chairs, a counter with a sink, coffee pot, and microwave, and a full-size refrigerator. She heard him re-enter the room and turned, her eyes going to the two flat items in his hand. He held out the sketch first, and her eyes slid from his face to the drawing. She sat slowly, setting the sketch on the table in front of her as she let it sink in. He slid the photo over next to her hand, and her lips parted slightly.

"Wow," she whispered. "I did this?"

"Sure did." Her head snapped up, focusing on the figure standing in the doorway. He'd hidden behind Warrick on the way in, or appeared a few moments later, apparently. "Greg Sanders," he said with an adolescent grin, sticking his hand out. She placed her hand in his, eyes wide with surprise.

"Soon as the DA saw that, he decided not to make a deal," Warrick said. "The guy's going away for a while." She nodded, her eyes still shifting back and forth between the sketch, the photo, and Greg himself, shaking her head slightly. "You did good." She smiled up at Warrick, and he collected the sketch and photo, handing them to Greg to take back to the evidence room. Greg patted her on the back lightly before disappearing down the maze of hallways, and Nika turned to Warrick.

"You promised to show me something else," she said quietly. Warrick's eyebrow rose. "And I want to see the silk shirt you wore there last time." He smirked, nodding slightly as he took her hand.