Okay, I just saw that episode where the Checker's pub get's totalled by a litte old lady in a jaguar? The one where Hank got his wrist broken? That one.
And so, I present what happened after. :-)
Fandom: CSI (Las Vegas)
Pairing: Sara/Catherine, Sara/Hank
Challenge: 9 - Discovery
Word Count: 119
Rating: G? (Probably?)
Title:
Change of Plans
I left her alone to talk to Hank, heading out to the car to wait.
I figured she’d make plans with him (what do I care) but... I was giving her a ride home. Maybe we’d be able to squeeze something in after all.
And then she came out, and got in the car, and you’d have had to have been blind, or more than blind, not to notice how upset she was.
“You got plans?” I asked, carefully.
“Nope.”
That didn’t sound too good.
“You want a beer?”
Her mouth quirked, twisting wryly in that way of hers that informed the world that it was being just a little too ironic right now.
All she said was, “Drive.”
***
Fandom: CSI (Las Vegas)
Pairing: Sara/Catherine (Sara/Hank, Catherine/Eddy)
Challenge: 3 -- Surprise
Word Count: 111
Rating: PG?
Title:
Got Me
I took her to a bar off Flamingo. It’s two-for-one appetizers night, so I get us two orders of potato-skins along with her Heineken and my Stella.
“So…”
“Elaine is his girlfriend.”
Well, that’s Sara. Always cuts right to the chase.
“Ah.”
I remember going to meet Eddy for dinner one night and catching him with that girl. I tell her about it. She nods.
“At least I wasn’t married to him,” she says, when I finish.
“Yeah. You’ve got that, at least.”
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand, half expecting her to pull away.
and you’ve got me, I think. And am surprised when I think it.
***
Fandom: CSI (Las Vegas)
Pairing: Sara/Andie (OFC), Sara/Hank
Challenge: 16 - Shoes
Word Count: 145
Rating: PG?
Title:
How it Feels
I can’t sleep.
Not that this is unusual, but now it’s worse.
I keep hearing him over and over.
“I’m really sorry, Sara.”
Sorry.
If he was sorry why did he do it in the first place?
I wish I could convince myself that he was just a creep. Just another emotionally unavailable dick who I’d got messed up with, who didn’t give a fuck about who he hurt…
But I can’t.
I can’t.
Because I’ve been in his shoes before.
And I remember why I did it.
Ha.
Part of me wants to walk into the morgue and tell her what happened. Tell her that I know what it’s like to have glass ground into your heart.
Tell her I know how it feels now.
But all I can picture her saying to that is, “Good.”
And she’d be justified.
She’d have the right.
*****
What do you think? :-)