Title: Storm of my Life
By: Schlampcat
Summary: Dinner at Catherine, Catherine's POV.
Pairing: Cath/Sara
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I would, but begging won't help. Everything belongs to CBS, I guess.
Feedback: Yes, pleeeease.
Archive: Ask first.

***

"Any plans for today?" she asks, passing me a cup of coffee.

We are standing in the break room after shift, and maybe it's the first time in weeks that we can go home on time.

I shrug my shoulders; it's Wednesday, and I'm relieved to spend some time with my daughter. "If I hurry I may take Lindsey to school. I'm sure she can figure something out for the rest of the day."

She smiles, pretending to understand, but I'm sure she doesn't know what it's like to be a single mother in this job.

When she walks past me to the table, hot coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other, I suddenly notice that her earlobes are pierced. I wonder if she wears earrings when she's with *him*. I know that it shouldn't matter; nonetheless, it does. I don't want her to want him to find her pretty. I know she *is*.

Fighting down the unwelcome tinge of burning jealousy, I sit down next to her. "And what are you going to do?"

Taking a sip, she unfolds the paper. "I don't know. Washing. Cleaning. Listening to my police scanner..." She wryly smiles at that.

I fear that she plans to spend some time with *him*, even though she doesn't even mention his name. I struggle against much too distinct images. "Listen, Sara, why don't you come over for dinner this evening? Lindsey got Twister a few weeks ago, and she's really keen on playing it."

She looks at me indecisively. "I don't know. Maybe she wants to be alone with her mother."

"Yeah, of course." I try to shrug off her doubts. "She loves you, Sara, really. She'd be more than happy to see you tonight."

She stares at the wall, and at her hands, and again I'm afraid to hear his name.

"Okay, then, why not?" She lifts her head and smiles at me. "I'll bring the wine."

The grin forming on my face is earsplitting. I almost kiss her, right here, in the middle of the break room, straight on her soft lips. But I stop myself at the last moment. "Great. Six p.m., okay?" It's our night off.

She nods, and still smiling I hurry to my car. I'm whistling all the way home without even noticing it. I'm there just in time. I give my sister a short hug and flash her a "Thank you"-smile, and then I grab Lindsey and tickle her until she shrieks, begging me to stop. I drive her to school, and I feel her casting funny looks at me, as if she thinks her mother has lost her mind. Maybe she's right; I don't know. I feel oddly out-of-space, and that's just because Sara'll be coming over for dinner. I mean, she's still Sara, right? However, I manage to stay with my feet on the ground, or rather on the gas pedal, at least as long as I'm in the car.

Hours later I am standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and as the door rings I hear Lindsey running to open it.

"Sara!" she exclaims joyfully, and I imagine her throwing her arms around my Sara. My colleague, I mean. I understand Lindsey's thrill about seeing Sara again, I really do.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn around, just to see Sara standing in the door. She looks too amazing to be true. She's smiling, even though Lindsey is hanging from her neck, her little legs around Sara's waist. I know that she's not that easy to carry, she's eight years old; nevertheless, Sara has this smile on her face that always makes me want her even more.

We are staring at each other, and I wonder if she knows. Maybe she does, but I'm unwilling to avert my eyes anyway. Suddenly Lindsey hops to the floor. "Mommy, Sara's here!" she tells me, grabbing Sara's hand to pull her towards me.

"I see, darling," I reply. Looking down at my little daughter, I briefly ruffle her hair. When I lift my head again, Sara is still looking at me, and she's smiling. Unnecessary to mention that I return her smile and her gaze. We don't move, until I feel Lindsey snatching my hand as well and pulling us into the living room. "I wanna play Twister!"

Sara starts to laugh, flashing me her brilliant smile once more. "That's a great idea, Linds, but I think your mother has something to do. Let's see if we can find something for the two of us, okay?" She let's my little daughter lead her to the end of the room, mouthing me a 'Need help?' as she points to the kitchen. I shake my head no and watch them disappear into the hallway. I could get used to this.

When I return to the living room, carrying pots and pans, the table is set and some candles are burning. I definitely didn't buy the beautifully arranged flowers.

Sara and Lindsey are already sitting at the table, my daughter grinning ear splittingly, Sara looking at me with her shining eyes. I smile back at them as I sit down at the table. "And whose idea was this?" I ask, pointing at the candles.

Lindsey's grin widens. "Sara's, Mom. And she brought you flowers," she explains enthusiastically. "They are so beautiful!"

At this Sara blushes slightly, and I can tell by the way she looks down at her hands that she's suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I'd like to take her hand, or just to look into her eyes, but she won't me my eyes. I have to be content with drawing everybody's attention to the food. I notice just now that Sara's wearing a pair of lovely earrings, and I imagine that she's wearing them only for me. The thought of her standing in her apartment, nervously pondering on what she should wear, just as I was not even an hour ago, makes my heart jump.

Finally we are having dinner peacefully, with Lindsey talking about this boy at school, and how cute he is. I shortly think if I should get concerned about that, but she's still my little girl, and I know that a crush on a classmate in her age is nothing I need to worry about. And after all, I'm enjoying this too much.

Now and then Sara smiles at me, and I feel it again, the butterflies dancing in my stomach. I only hope she can't see it in my eyes.

Lindsey's the first to finish eating, and she urges us to hurry because she wants to watch The Lion King on TV. I don't know how often she's seen this movie, but she still gets excited about it. As soon as dinner's over, she sprints to the TV, struggling hard not to run it over. Sara chuckles softly, and even though the sound of it makes my heart flutter again, I stay serious. "Lindsey, be careful, there's still enough time until your lion is on." However, after switching on the set, she lets herself fall down onto the floor in front of the screen. Just far enough away to be able to see every bit of the movie. I raise my eyebrows at that, but Sara catches my attention again, carrying the dishes to the kitchen.

I hurry to join her, telling her she doesn't need to do this. She shrugs it off, placing the plates on the counter. "I was really enjoying this evening. Dinner was great."

"Thank you." The tension between us returns, and I am unsure if Sara thinks about leaving, and I don't know how to tell her that I want her to stay a little longer, as Lindsey calls from the living room. "Mom, Sara, you have to see this, it is so cool!"

We briefly smile at each other, before returning to the living room. We fall onto the couch facing the TV, and when I tell Lindsey not to sit too close to the TV, she settles down between us. She wants Sara to lay her arm around her shoulder as she leans against her, and I feel Sara's hand softly touching my neck. I nearly jump at her touch, but when I gaze at her over Lindsey, I see her concentrating on the movie. Maybe she doesn't notice it.

Lindsey is half sitting, half lying on the couch, her head resting at Sara's shoulder, her legs in my lap. Occasionally she giggles at the animals on TV. Eventually she leaves for the kitchen to get herself some ice tea, and when she returns, she sits down on the floor again, her back against the sofa. I no longer worry about her eyes, there's enough room between her and the TV. Besides, Sara is leaning into me, whispering "I never understood why he doesn't eat Simon, I mean, he must be very hungry, and he's definitely stronger. So why eat insects?"

I chuckle quietly, very conscious of her closeness. "I thought you were the vegetarian."

"I am," she says, defending herself, "but you've ever heard of a vegetarian lion?"

I shake my head, allowing myself to become closer to her, and somehow I end up leaning against her shoulder, my legs on the couch, one hand on Sara's thigh. She doesn't move away, instead she lays her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I love the feel of her soft hair against my cheek. Silently we watch the rest of the movie, not moving, except for briefly squeezing her thigh or her hand gliding across my neck.

It doesn't even take the whole movie for Lindsey to fall asleep. I see her head falling back against the couch and sigh. Reluctantly I lift my head from Sara's shoulder to look at her. "I should take her to bed," I say, getting up.

Sara gets hold of my hand, turning me back around to face her. She gazes at me, searching my face for something. "Come back soon, okay?" Her voice is only a whisper.

I nod, unable to speak. I lift Lindsey to my arms and carry her to bed. When I pull up the covers, she opens her eyes and looks at me sleepily. "Will Sara stay, Mommy?"

I sit down on her small bed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know," I answer honestly. "Now go back to sleep," I tell her softly. "Have a nice dream." After leaning down to kiss her nose, I stand up and leave the room. Lindsey's asleep again even before I quietly close the door.

When I enter the living room, Sara has opened a bottle of wine. Two glasses are standing on the table. Still sitting on the couch, Sara points at them. "The wine." I don't answer, standing in front of her, looking down at her. "I didn't want to open it while Lindsey's awake."

My head is spinning, and I'm searching for anything to say. "Thank you for the flowers, they really are beautiful," I finally manage.

She nods, looking at the floor, and back at me. "I..." She, too, is looking for the words. "Can I kiss you?" she whispers.

I don't move, and I don't answer, afraid that I lost my mind and am hallucinating. Sara slowly stands up, holding my gaze. She moves closer to me, and before I even notice it, my hands are on her hips and I lean forward, gently brushing my lips against hers. When I pull back she looks at me, stunned, her eyes the deepest brown I've ever seen. But she quickly recovers, and when she falls back onto the couch she pulls me with her, so that I come to sit on her legs. Her hands wander through my hair, down the side of my face and over my collarbone, as she draws me nearer, kissing me again. I return the kiss with as much fever, and I only pull back when her hand slides under my t-shirt, moaning her name. I bury my face in her neck, gently caressing the soft skin there with my lips. Her hands glide over my stomach, setting the skin on fire, and I lift my head enough to look her in the eyes.

The room is getting dark, and I didn't switch on the light. Only the light of the distant street lamps is falling across her face. It makes her look so beautiful that for one moment I'm afraid she could vanish every second.

"Lindsey asked if you were staying," I tell her, my hands meandering under her shirt, pushing it upwards.

She meets my eyes, still holding me. "What about you? Do you want me to?"

There's no need to think this over; I simply nod. "I don't want you to go," I murmur. I bend my head to capture her lips again. She moans softly at my touch, and when I stand, pulling her with me to the bedroom, she does nothing to resist.

***

"Don't move."

It's the next morning; I've just opened my eyes. The curtains blow slightly in a soft breeze, unable to keep the sun out of the room. Sara's hand is resting on my bare stomach.

"Pardon?"

"If you move, I have to tie you down to the bed," she whispers into my ear, pressing the length of her body against mine.

I smile, eyes closed, senses filled with her nearness. "Is that a promise?"

She doesn't answer, but her hand begins to draw small circles onto my skin.

This is becoming really interesting.

"Mommy? I'm hungry." Lindsey's voice interrupts Sara's exploration. I lift my head, seeing my daughter standing in the door, still in her pajamas. I'm suddenly very aware of the fact that I'm lying naked under the blankets, and so is Sara.

"I'm gonna make breakfast in a minute, okay, honey? Just... get dressed first." And give me some time to find at least my underwear.

She nods and turns around to go back to her room.

Sara buries her face in my hair, chuckling softly. I sigh, frustrated. "I don't know what's so funny."

"So you don't get caught lying naked with a woman in your bed by your daughter that often?"

"No, I don't. Usually they leave before sunrise." I sound more serious than intended, and Sara immediately begins to move away from me. I turn around, stopping her, and gently capture her lips with my own. "Good morning."

She smiles when I pull away, and this time she closes her eyes, laying her head back onto the pillow. Having Sara with her morning hair and her bare shoulders in my bed every day is definitely something I could get used to. I long to touch her. I lean forward to kiss her once more before I get out of the bed. Breakfast first.

I know she's watching me from the bed while I choose my clothes and put them on. I would blush for sure if it wasn't Sara. When I'm dressed I pick up her clothes that are hazardously scattered on the floor.

She shots a dirty smile at me, remembering the events of last night.

I sit down next to her, handing her the clothing. "I hate saying it, but you have to get dressed." With that, I leave her alone, heading for the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Lindsey appears only a few minutes later. She's dressed, and her hair is properly combed. She's growing up so fast. I smile remembering the first day she went to school. She was wearing her shirt inside out, and she was not even able to lace her shoes. Since she was nervous, of course. Today she's a lot more relaxed.

In contrast to me. I don't know what she thinks about finding Sara in my bed, and she won't give me a hint. She just grins at me, eating her cornflakes and drinking her juice. We're a little late, and before I drive Lindsey to school, I leave a message for Sara on the kitchen table. I hope she's still there when I come back.

Hesitating, I open the front door. The full smell of fresh coffee welcomes me, and I hear Sara bustling around in the kitchen. I have to smile at that; I feel like coming home from work, my wife waiting for me. I immediately try to banish this thought, since it is Sara I'm talking about, and I can't imagine her playing housewife while I'm at work. However, this is certainly a nice experience.

I quietly close the door, take off my shoes and tiptoe to the kitchen. Sara is standing in front of the window, with her back to me. I know she must have heard me, but she doesn't move. Silently I cross the room and hug her from behind.

"Hey."

"Hey." She puts her hands on mine, holding me there, and without thinking our fingers entwine themselves.

I wonder if something is wrong because she's so silent, but when she turns around in my embrace and leans down to kiss me tenderly, my worries vanish. I love the feel of her skin under my fingers, and I revel in the ability to touch every bit of her within my reach.

Her taste is still on my tongue when we finally sit down at the table. We don't talk much while we are eating; I'm all busy with taking in the sight of her in my house. In the end I can't take it any longer, I stand up and go around the table. Sara watches me silently while I do so, until I come to sit astride her upper legs. She looks motionless at me, and I am the one to connect our lips. But when I want to pull back, her hand goes up to the back of my head, holding me there, and her tongue slides over my lips, begging me to let her in.

I open my mouth for her voluntarily, and our tongues dance around each other. My hand glides through her hair and I gently caress her neck with my fingers. She moans and grips my shoulders harder. It hurts, but I don't care. All I want is to be as close to her as possible.

We only break the kiss when there's no oxygen left in our lungs. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes show a deep brown, when she asks me, "Aren't you hungry any more?"

I shake my head as I slowly lift her shirt.

We make love very slowly right in the middle of the kitchen, and afterwards Sara rests her head on my shoulder. She mumbles something I cannot understand against my neck, her breathing still short.

I want her to say it again, but she shakes her head, backing away to collect her clothes. I get hold of her hand, unwilling to let her go.

She looks at me, her face inscrutable.

"Sara..."

"I have to go home to take a shower and change before work. You know, I'm all sweaty." The dirty smile reappears on her face.

Let's see if I can make you blush as well. "You know, so am I. Why don't we take this shower together? Right now?" Yes, I can. She looks so amazing, wearing nothing but that blush.

"I certainly will take this offer later. But right now, I just need a shower." She briefly squeezes my hand before stepping back.

"Sara?"

She turns around, pulling up the zipper of her jeans. "Yeah?"

"Do you think... I mean, maybe we should have dinner again before work? There's this new restaurant not far from here, and my sister will take care of Lindsey anyway tonight."

"You mean restaurant like in date?"

I nod.

She seems to consider this for a split second, then she smiles. "Yeah, that would be great. I will pick you up at four, okay?"

I nod, and she comes back to kiss me one last time before she leaves. I'm standing still in the kitchen when I hear the door close after her.

***

It's 3.55 p.m. when the door rings. It doesn't even take five seconds for me to open it; I'm too nervous to pretend to be calm.

"Hey." She smiles brilliantly at me.

"Sara." Again, the sight of her takes my breath away. With her wavy hair falling freely down onto her bare shoulders, her eyes shining like diamonds, she looks like a Greek goddess. I've never seen her wear a black dress like this one before. It has thin straps, revealing the soft skin of her shoulders, and a little bit the skin of her breasts, the smooth fabric hugging her waist gently, waving around her hips. I feel free to let my gaze drift lower. Ending in mid-thigh, the dress exposes the major part of her long legs. I know that I'm staring at her, but I can't help it. She's so beautiful.

"Do you plan to spend the rest of the day staring at me, or can we go now?" she teases me, leaning slightly against the doorframe, stretching herself, obviously flirting.

Inexplicably, my mouth suddenly went dry; I swallow hard before I grab my jacket and my keys. She's still grinning when I close the door, and on the way to her car she holds my hand.

My heart is beating way too fast. I feel like I'm on my first date, even though we're over and above that. Her dress does nothing to calm my nerves. Hell, if she's going to wear this at work, there's no chance I'll be able to concentrate on the evidence.

In front of her car she stops, leaning down to capture my lips in a tender kiss. I feel her hand on my back, and her breath is hot on my face. I don't want this moment to end. I don't want anything of this to end.

Eventually, we both pull back, hands entwined, eyes locked. She's the first to speak, she whispers almost bashfully, "Do you really want to go to this restaurant?"

I softly laugh at her words; a few seconds ago I was picturing a discreet way to get her into my bed once more. But I want this night to last, I want to go out and do all the things we skipped until now. "I think it would be lavish if we spent our time in the house since you're wearing this dress."

She leans forward to whisper into my ear, "Come on, actually you're only thinking about how to get me out of it."

If she thinks this will leave me standing flabbergasted in front of her, with my bottom jaw hanging down to the floor, she's wrong. "It would be lying to deny it, darling, but it has to wait. Come on, I'm hungry. Let's go." With that, I slip into the passenger's seat, waiting for Sara to follow me. Two can play this game.

Moments later she starts the car, glancing at me now and then. I meet her eyes self-confidently, and while she concentrates on the road, I can't fight down the urge to place my hand onto her thigh. I do not even try to hold back.

For a few minutes only the noise of traffic surround us, both of us relishing being together.

Then, "Cath?"

Something in her voice makes me jump. She sounds too serious, and I feel where this is going to end. Anyway, I don't move. "Hm?"

She doesn't answer, and for a split second I hope she might drop the point, but when we are waiting for green lights she asks, "What are we heading for?"

"This new restaurant, remember? We're planning to have..."

"You know what I mean," she cuts me short, obviously no longer in the mood for teasing.

I do know, and yet I don't want to answer. Because I too don't know what's going on between us. "Yes, I know. And I don't know. I mean, Sara..." I really don't. Once again, *his* image crosses my mind, and I feel like tearing out my hair, or swallowing my tongue. How did we get to this point? Only one moment ago, we were flirting, holding hand, kissing, and now I am back facing the monster named jealousy. I'm tired of uncertainty, and I think she is too. But I don't go meeting this guy, do I?

Maybe we should have stayed at home. I somehow reluctantly pull back my hand; there's no way to bypass this. "Do you still meet him?"

I hear her taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it. "Whom?"

"You know who I mean!" This came out too harsh, and I add more softly, "So do you?"

She's considering her next words, sighing, before she asks angrily, "Do you really think I'd do something like that? Do you think I am so rude? That I would f..." She stops herself, inhaling once again to calm down, before continuing, "Cath, I told you he is not my boyfriend, and that is the truth. Believe me." She sounds sincere, and though I didn't believe her the first time, today I do. Something, anything has changed between us, and it's time to trust her.

She even smiles, although wryly. "Actually I'm not like that, I thought you would know that by now."

Sometimes I want to slap myself for being so damn stupid, and so skeptical, and this is definitely one of those moments. "Sara, I... I am sorry."

She shakes her head. "Don't be. We're both a little new at this, I think." The silence begins to extend, before Sara glances at me, softly laying my hand back onto her thigh, covering it with her own. "Do you still think that we should go out for dinner?"

"Well, no." Her fingers feel warm on the back of my hand. "But I am still hungry. We could get some take-away, since we're driving, and eat at home. Like, we still have time before work."

She nods, agreeing, and again it gets silent. I love her for being indulgent, and for not throwing me out of the car and hating me. I just... love her.

Before we leave the car to order our food, Sara holds me back. "You know, Catherine, this morning, what I was saying, I... I wanted to say that I love you." Right now, there's nothing left to say, and I smile brightly as I kiss and love her back.

***

Three weeks later.

This night's definitely lasting too long. There's been only one case, an apparent suicide, and now time is forcing me to do some of my paperwork. The only thing I wanna do is go home, watch Lindsey sleeping, and spend the rest of the night with Sara.

Sara. We haven't been talking for hours, since she is in the DNA lab, discussing the latest events in the world of music with Greg.

I think of the last time I've seen her.

We were working on the case, hardly talking, avoiding any contact, all business. She smiled briefly at me just once, before leaving the room.

Warrick entered the room the same second, staring after her.

At his curious face I wondered how long he'd been standing in the door watching us. I knew he couldn't have witnessed anything, nevertheless, I worried if he did. Feigning indifference, I turned back to the scope.

"I'd love to know what's going on with Sara lately," he finally broke the silence.

Oh oh. "Yeah? Why?" Am I wrong, or did I sound guilty?

"No particular reason, was just wondering."

"Uh-huh." Suppressing a relieved sigh, I concluded he dropped the topic, and once again concentrated on work.

"You know, I just caught her staring at your ass for about five minutes," he shattered my hopes, "and when she noticed she blushed so deeply, even a tomato would have seemed pale beside her."

Oh. I should wear these tight jeans more often. "Warrick, you're imagining things." She wasn't red when I looked at her. "She probably was just... thinking."

"Yeah, for sure." He was about to add something else, but was cut off by Nick, who delivered news about the deceased's widow.

Grinning, I close the file in front of me. Finally, luck was a lady tonight.

Sara really owes me one. Staring at my ass could be, like, considered sexual harassment, and besides it was me who had to save our both asses. I'm picturing a million ways to get back at her, when I hear footsteps behind me. Sara's smell begins to envelope me; I don't have to turn around to know it's her.

"What are you doing?" Her voice, though neutral, sends shivers up and down my spine, and it takes all my strength not to look at her.

"Thinking of you."

She walks through the room, coming to stand in front of the table. I return her wicked grin. "I thought you were at the lab."

"I thought you were doing paperwork," she shoots back, her eyes never leaving mine.

I shrug my shoulders. "I wanted to, but then Warrick was telling me you were staring at me, and that was... kind of distracting."

"It was?" Her smile widens, while she surrounds the table, coming closer. "Well, I had some rather distracting thoughts myself." She leans down to me before continuing. "I really long to tell you one or another."

Her breath is hot on my neck, and it gets harder to ignore the quickening pace of my heart. "We have to be careful," I manage to say.

She steps back, sighing frustrated. "Come on, Catherine, they are CSIs, one day they'll find out, no matter how hard you try to keep it a secret."

It's not only about the others detecting, it's about keeping personal life and work separate. However, Sara's gaze is focused hard on me. I've met some of the worst murderers, helped to put them into jail, and I know how to raise my daughter on my own while doing my job. I can fire a gun, and I'm not afraid in the dark. There are only two things I cannot handle. Homophobia, and Sara when she's mad at me. "We should talk about this at home," I try to save the night.

She snorts contemptuously. "Yeah, so you can avoid the topic until there's nothing left to talk about. You know, life's not always that easy, Catherine."

Now it's my turn to get mad. "So you're some kind of expert at it? Please, would you share some of your experience with me?" My voice is dripping with sarcasm.

She's on me in a second, gripping my wrist, she's so close I can smell her skin. "Don't be so damn silly, Catherine! If you don't want to discuss this now, okay, but I won't wait until it's too late. If you can't deal with it, tell me right now!"

We're staring at each other, motionless, breathing hard, and I feel my anger evaporating miraculously. Before I can say anything, Greg comes in. "Whoa, what's going on here?"

We stumble away from each other, caught in the act.

Sara's the first to regain composure. "Nothing, Greggo, we were just talking. About a case." She seems so calm, I wonder if I imagined our fight. "No DNA to analyze?"

He hesitantly shakes his head. He must feel like standing between two Grizzlies on their back feet. I am tempted to let out a loud roar, just for the look on his face, and when Sara notices me grinning, her expression subtly changes.

"Do you want me to, uhm, help you with... your paperwork?"

I glance at Greg; I can't believe she's flirting with me right in front of him. "Uhm, yeah, I could need your opinion on, on something I wrote."

It's probably not the best reply, but Greg slowly exits the room, a deep frown adorning his forehead.

"Do you think this was a good idea?" I ask as soon he's out of hearing. "It got him kind of perplexed."

Sara stands behind my chair, her fingers caressing my nape. "Poor Greg, he will get about it, he'll forget even before he's back in his lab." With her hand never leaving my skin, Sara bends over the table, pretending to take a look at the folder. "So, what was it you needed my opinion on?"

Being so close to her, I find it hard to remember my name, let alone the case. "Actually, I don't remember. It might have been an excuse to get Greg out of here."

She's smiling; nevertheless, she's still reading the report. At least that's what I think she's doing.

"What about breakfast after shift?" she asks, eyes glued to the paper.

Your place or mine? "Sounds good to me." A look at my watch tells me there are seventy-four minutes left. I send a silent prayer to anybody listening that the criminals at least wait until day shift starts.

"I'm sorry," she abruptly says, straightening, "but I fear I can't help you with that." She smiles and steps back, resting her hip against the desk.

"Oh, that's too bad. You sure?" I ask, laying my hand on her waist.

Before she is able to react, Warrick interrupts us. "You ready here? I need someone to try out this new video game. Now." He sounds so bored, even Grissom would notice it.

"Why don't you ask Nick?" Sara demands, turning slightly to face him, the movement deepening the contact between her waist and my hand.

"He's talking to Brass about whatever, and that's why..."

"What about Greg?" My hand drifts down over her hip, fingers touching the rough fabric of her jeans only slightly, over her thigh, coming to rest in the hollow of her knee.

"He's nowhere to be found. I..."

Sara twitches under my touch, afraid Warrick could notice, yet wanting the contact.

"...was about to..." He pauses puzzled, eyes wandering from Sara to me, down to my hand, and back to Sara. "What the hell... What is going on here?" He shakes his head, obviously trying to sort his thoughts. I can almost see wheels spinning inside his head. He keeps on staring at us, not saying a word, until his face brightens. Terrific, it didn't even take five minutes for him to figure it out. "How long is this thing going on between the two of you?" he finally asks, after assuring nobody else can hear him.

Sara doesn't look at me before answering. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, I come in while you're obviously..." he glances at my hand, searching for words, "...flirting, and two hours ago you were staring at her butt. I'm not brainless, Sara. So, how long?" he grins.

Sara steps back, the movement breaking the contact. I miss her immediately, especially in this situation. She lifts her hand to protest, but Warrick cuts her off. He notes it's no use arguing with Sara, she's already edgy. "I won't tell anybody, okay? If you want to keep it a secret, I will be silent as the grave. I just want you to know that I'm happy for you." His voice is soft, and genuine.

Sara starts to speak, but she closes her mouth as Warrick turns to leave.

"Warrick? Thank you."

He turns back at my voice, smiles, nods, and then we're alone again. It's quiet for a few more minutes, until I stand up and pull Sara in a tight embrace.

This night, when we leave after shift, I hold her hand on the way out. I don't care who sees us, and I don't care about what they think. I want to be with Sara.

the end

***