Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though I'm wondering, if I did say I owned them, who would actually bother suing me?
Summary: Sara wonders why she can't breath when she's near her. C/S, don't like, don't read.
Author's Note: Thank you so, so much to all those people who reviewed my other story. Your kind words made my head and heart swell! I hope you'll review this one too. Inspired and named after Liz Phair's 'Why Can't I?'
Special thanks to Foxy Nighthawk, my first ever reviewer. About that suggestion you had for my other fic, I thought about it, but decided to leave it for now, I'd probably just mess it up if I attempted more chapters. How ever, I'll maybe go back to it later when I have an idea for it.
I'm not completely happy with this yet, but I couldn't seem to change into into what i wanted, so I just decided to post it and let you tell me what you think. Warning for cheesy ending. (I'm sorry, I can't help it lol). Alright, now my A.N. is as long as the whole story. I'll shut up now. Amelie.
Why Can't I?
I'm walking down the corridor, reading my file. The case is nearly solved, and I silently wonder were Nick is with the suspect. And then, you walk past, and my brain seems to shut down. You're all business; all confidence and concentration. You probably don't even notice me. So why can't I breath whenever you walk by?
We're sitting in the break room, chatting, when Nick enters and asks if we know what's up with your bad mood. Warrick quietly explains that you just split up with your boyfriend. The boyfriend I didn't even know you had. So why can't I think whenever I hear your name?
You come to the crime scene in a tight, skin hugging dress, your beautiful blonde hairs blowing out behind you, ranting and raving about how Grissom pulled you away from your date. You shiver in the cold night air, and without thinking, I place my coat around your shoulders. You will never care about me the way I do about you. So why can't I speak when you smile gratefully at me?
You're sitting in the dark, starring at the horrific crime scene photos. 7 year old girls raped and killed. I know you're imagining Lindsey's face, her slender body surrounded by blood instead of the victim's. My heart breaks when I see your shoulders shake. And against better judgement, I walk in, wrap my arms around you. You will never be mine. So why can't I walk past you when you're hurting?
We had another blow up. You pushed me so hard, I started lashing out. Hit you there were I know you're weak. You won't apologize. I know that much. You're at fault just as much as I am. And yet the guilt is hitting me with full force. If you had stopped when I told you to, this would never have happened. So why am I standing outside your house to apologize?
Greg tells me that I need to get out more. Start socializing. Quit locking myself up in my apartment. I silently agree. I haven't been in a relationship for god knows how long. It's not like guys aren't interested. Or girls, for that matter. But I can't help compare them to you. Though, as far as I know, you're as straight as a doornail. So why can't I date without thinking about you?
You knew way before I did that Hank was cheating on me. I wondered if you had developed a kind of sixth sense for that sort of thing. The thought made me sick; so many men treated you like shit, when I would have done anything to make you happy. We fought so much, and sometimes I thought that we could never be friends. That it was better that way, because you could only hurt me. But then you did something beautiful, like when you took me out after Hank. Yet you will never return my feelings. So why can't I hate you?
You're away on holiday with Lindsey. No one else seems to be longing for you, missing you. The lab is empty without your light. I can't wait to see your face again. It's silly, because even when you are here, you talk to the boys, not me. So why can't I stop wishing you were here with me?
A man asked me out at the diner today when were all having breakfast. It was outside the ladies, and you had followed me there. You smirked at me when I turned him down. Asked me why, you said he was quite handsome. Before I could stop myself, I told you that I'm in love with someone else. The shocked look on your face was enough to tell me to stop talking. I knew I should just shut up and leave the room, before I said something I might regret. So why was it so hard to walk away from your intrigued face?
I see you staring at me over those incredibly sexy glasses of yours. I can't help but tingle at the way you watch my every move, thinking you're unobserved. I know Greg probably just stuck a note on my back again. So why can't I suppress the irrational hope that wells up in my heart?
It's my birthday. I had the night before off, and now I'm sitting on my sofa, too lazy to get breakfast. It's not like this day is any different, as I doubt anyone except Grissom and Greg actually know my birthday. So when the doorbell rings, I certainly don't expect to see you standing there. A cake with 'Happy Birthday Sara' on it in your hands. I can't remember the last time I had a cake made just for me. Because you did make it, you proudly inform me.
I ask you why you're here. You say that you wanted to wish me a happy birthday. Why can't I just accept that? Why do I have to push? I ask you if that's really all you came for. You look at me with a smirk. You say that I'm right, that you didn't drove out here with a cheesy birthday cake for the hell of it.
I mentally prepare myself, wondering what I've done. Knowing I'll agree to anything you say. Why can't I ever refuse you?
And then you brush your lips against mine, softly at first, then more passionately.
Oh yeah. That's why.
I warned you about the cheese! Please, please review. Though, as before, no flames.