Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. I do not own the characters, etc., etc.
Thank you for all of the reviews… and the messages and being added to story alerts… could make a girl blush. Here's some more for you. Enjoy!
7/13/07: noticed some MAJOR typos...and a couple of other annoying things I had to fix...
Chapter 3
He wasn't sleeping. He was barely eating. He was, however, putting on the best mask she'd seen in recent years. One so good, in fact, that the very people trained to make the most minute and deatiled observations… missed it. Completely.
Evanescent. A glimmer. A momentary flash in his eyes. If you weren't watching for it, you'd never see it. In a blink, the curtain is swiftly pulled together and any semblance of vulnerability has disappeared behind the veil. As if it never existed.
After a week at Chez Stokes, Sara had caught a number of these sudden flashes in Nick's eyes. He knew she saw it...the fear, the doubt, the panic. He successfully avoided any situation where there may be a confrontation about what was happening in his mind. He joked or changed the subject or started a new task. Conversation was clearly the last thing that he wanted to result from those moments. Lucky for him, Sara didn't want to press. Instead, she left Nick to better his cloaking abilities.
But Sara was afraid for him. No sleep, no food—which was just odd for Nick, and the pressure of desperately wanting to return to work, to a sense of normalcy, but being denied at each and every turn…the heady brew was reaching it's boiling point. It was only a matter of time.
Sara was sitting in Nick's well worn armchair--subtly, or so she thought--observing him from afar all while pretending to work the NY Times crossword. Nick was standing in his kitchen chopping vegetables for a meal he'd later pick at and justify as being a "labor of love" for his new roomie.
Without looking away from the chopping block, she hears him say,"quit yur starin' Sidle." A small smile betrays her when she hears the heaviness of his accent. He was tired. She didn't need to be an investigator to figure that out.
"I'm not allowed to enjoy the view from the best recliner in Vegas?" She winked at him as he looked up. He rolled his eyes and turned to dump the peppers he'd been chopping into the pan. She heard the sizzle begin a moment later.
Giving up her puzzle, she abandoned the chair for the comfort of the bar stools at Nick's counter. She'd already tried to help or offered to pay at almost every meal they'd had together over the last seven days and each time she was met with a bull-headed answer. So much for her taking care of him.
Considering what she was contemplating, she decided to pick her battles and save up some good karma for later.
Hands holding up her chin, she watched as Nick stirred the vegetables in the pan while simultaneously warming a stack of tortillas and checking on the grilled chicken in the foreman grill. He was being quite successful in keeping his back to her.
"Smells great…"
"Thanks," he threw over his shoulder as he wiped his hands on a dishrag and turned to retrieve plates from the cabinet.
She stood and took the plates from him to set the table. They'd been eating in his family room in front of the tv. Not tonight. He didn't need another excuse to crawl futher inside himself.
Nick was dishing everything onto serving platters when Sara went up behind him and hugged him from behind. She felt him release a breath, set down the spoon he was holding, and cover her hands on his chest with her own. As she leaned her cheek against the middle of his back, she felt his head lean back lightly to rest on her own. He smelled of onions and peppers and that mysterious, and wonderful, aftershave that she never noticed until they were mere inches apart.
Sara had never been all that physical with Nick. They had always joked, flirted, high-fived, given each other little hugs…but nothing like this. The recent closeness was a result of not just proximity, but necessity. Her voice and her arms had become a source of comfort when the darkness crept too close. She knew it would appear more than "friendly" to others, but for them…it was what it was.
They stood like that for a few minutes before Sara loosened her hold on him. He cleared his throat and turned slightly to face her. Cocking his head slightly, Nick gave Sara a little smirk.
"My lady, yur dinner's gettin' luke warm." He smiled.
"I'm sorry… I just could sense that you really, really wanted a hug." She smiled back at him and stepped back grabbing some of the plates to take to the kitchen table. She heard the familiar Stokes chuckle behind her back as she walked away from him.
Settling down to enjoy dinner the two didn't speak much until they'd filled their plates with rice and fajitas. Nick engaged in some story about his older brother daring him to eat hot peppers that his mother always served when she made fajitas at the ranch. Sara could see Nick reveling in the good memory. She laughed and almost lost a mouth full of rice when Nick made a face to end his story…to indicate his level of discomfort when he discovered that water only made the sting of the peppers that much worse.
She smiled and just shook her head at him. "I was the youngest and I never got it that bad."
"Yeah, well, Tim had a lot of experience picking on people by the time I came around. Second nature for him by that point I s'pose."
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Dinner finished quietly with some small talk about the team and plans for the weekend. Sara cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher while Nick nursed his glass of iced tea and sat on the edge of the counter. Sara turned and leaned against the sink.
"I know that I've been here for a week already…" Nick looked up to meet her eyes. "I just want you to know that if you want me to go…or if you…just, you know, …I don't want to crowd you." Sara was boring holes into the tiles of Nick's kitchen floor. Her jaw was set. Her fingers were nervously tapping the edge of the counter.
Nick hopped off the counter and moved to stand in front of Sara. He placed his hands on her arms. "Sar, you're not crowding me." He caught her eyes and drew her gaze upward. "I promise."
She let out a deep breath, and then felt words tumbling out of her mouth. Everything she had wanted to say but didn't think she'd actually say…had suddenly become the elephant in the room. The gigantic, smelly, offensive elephant that was charging toward a very dangerous outcome.
She was worried about him. She doesn't want him to feel rushed and pressured to have things get back to normal, but she has to say it. He's hiding his feelings and what is really going on with him from her. They're friends. They've been friends for years. She won't judge. Let her comfort him or help him or do what it is that he needs from her…she's not sure what it is, but she knows that she's in this 'til the end. And she feels selfish. God, she feels so selfish for even saying anything because he should just be allowed to heal however he wants, but…she's just still so worried and she can't stop herself from vomiting all these thoughts onto him and …she can feel his eyes on her. Waiting for her.
Her eyes have been closed throughout most of the rant, but she can feel Nick's warm, reassuring hands on her arms. And his thumbs are making little swirley's on her biceps.
"Tell me to leave, tell me to fuck off, just please don't shut me out." And she opens her eyes and sees tears in Nick's. He steps forward to embrace her. Whispering in her ear, "You caught me...please don't leave."
She gives a stifled laugh through warm tears. His hands are rubbing her back gently and she is desperately fighting to keep the tears from turning into sobs. When he steps back from her, he takes her hands in his and holds them to his chest. He looks her straight in the eye and she can see the tears teetering on the edge of his lids. His voice remains a hoarse whisper.
"I just want it to go away… and I'm pissed that I can't make it." He pauses and takes a deep breath. She notices his jaw clenches, and he goes on, "I'm so damn angry because I don't know if this is something you get past.
"The shrink tells me I'm hidin' it all because I don't want to acknowledge that it's true. …that this is my life." He swallows thickly as an errant tear traces his jawline.
"I don't want this to be my life, Sar." And with that the tears overwhelm him and he allows her to envelop him in a hug.
"Then we won't let it."
Kinda short. I think. Probably be a couple of weeks until I can write again. I'm moving. UGH. Hope you enjoy!