Minutes in to Days
Title: Minutes into Days
Rating: PG13/Teen
Pairing: GSR
Spoilers: Minor for latest US aired episode
Author: Insomnfreak
Author’s Notes: Haven’t written anything in a long while and it shows. Not beta’d (That’s a warning).
Summary: Sara reflects on her marriage and why it works.
The lights are dim, a warm yellow that is comforting to her. It is welcomed, a contrast to the bright neon lights of the city, the violent flashes of crime scene cameras, or the harsh fluorescents of the police station. The black out curtains on the windows make it look like night in the condo, the clock on the microwave glows 2:18, but Sara knows that is p.m. not a.m. and beyond the heavy curtains the day’s sun shines brightly.
It is past her bedtime but Sara is not quite ready to surrender herself to sleep. She is not dreading the moment that sleep comes to claim her, she looks forward to her dreams, sensing they will be filled with visions of her faraway husband and his strong arms encircling her. They are the dreams made real every time they are reunited.
Sara shuffles her feet along the stone floor of the kitchen, the fuzzy socks warding of the coolness as she makes herself a cup of hot tea. She smiles as she takes a seat on one of the two stools tucked beneath the center island of the kitchen. It is “his” stool, her faraway husband, the one that he had silently claimed when they had moved into the condo. There are lots of things that are “his” that Sara steals when he is away. It is her way of bridging the distance, and she always happily returns these things when he is back. After all, why hold on to the substitutes when you can have the genuine article.
It feels good to have a fresh start with Betty Grissom, to find that elusive connection to the woman that means so much to Gil. Sara smiles in reflection, realizing that Catherine was right. All the mother’s infuriating tendencies were reflected in the son. Her attraction-turned-love for the latter had made them surmountable obstacles in her quest to know the man behind the barriers of silence and maddening quirks. Sara knows that Betty still doesn’t get it. No one gets it, but then no one sees what she sees, not really.
Sara does not blame them because they simply could not know. They could not know how it feels to suddenly, and without warning, be captured in Gil’s intense blue gaze, his face a mask of awe as if he is witnessing a sunrise for the very first time. They could not know the sensation of the very air around them electrifying at his nearness, of unseen sparks igniting at the barest of touches. And they could not know the wonder of waking to whispered words of love so beautiful that it could warm up a soul to downtrodden by the ugliness of lives lost.
If Betty and Nick and the others could see that, feel that, then they would get why she and Gil work. Sure, Sara would love to see her husband more often, lie in his arms each time she went to bed, wake to his gentle caress, but that time wasn’t right now. So, they turned minutes into days and moments into lifetimes, filling in the spaces until they were together again once more.
Rating: PG13/Teen
Pairing: GSR
Spoilers: Minor for latest US aired episode
Author: Insomnfreak
Author’s Notes: Haven’t written anything in a long while and it shows. Not beta’d (That’s a warning).
Summary: Sara reflects on her marriage and why it works.
The lights are dim, a warm yellow that is comforting to her. It is welcomed, a contrast to the bright neon lights of the city, the violent flashes of crime scene cameras, or the harsh fluorescents of the police station. The black out curtains on the windows make it look like night in the condo, the clock on the microwave glows 2:18, but Sara knows that is p.m. not a.m. and beyond the heavy curtains the day’s sun shines brightly.
It is past her bedtime but Sara is not quite ready to surrender herself to sleep. She is not dreading the moment that sleep comes to claim her, she looks forward to her dreams, sensing they will be filled with visions of her faraway husband and his strong arms encircling her. They are the dreams made real every time they are reunited.
Sara shuffles her feet along the stone floor of the kitchen, the fuzzy socks warding of the coolness as she makes herself a cup of hot tea. She smiles as she takes a seat on one of the two stools tucked beneath the center island of the kitchen. It is “his” stool, her faraway husband, the one that he had silently claimed when they had moved into the condo. There are lots of things that are “his” that Sara steals when he is away. It is her way of bridging the distance, and she always happily returns these things when he is back. After all, why hold on to the substitutes when you can have the genuine article.
It feels good to have a fresh start with Betty Grissom, to find that elusive connection to the woman that means so much to Gil. Sara smiles in reflection, realizing that Catherine was right. All the mother’s infuriating tendencies were reflected in the son. Her attraction-turned-love for the latter had made them surmountable obstacles in her quest to know the man behind the barriers of silence and maddening quirks. Sara knows that Betty still doesn’t get it. No one gets it, but then no one sees what she sees, not really.
Sara does not blame them because they simply could not know. They could not know how it feels to suddenly, and without warning, be captured in Gil’s intense blue gaze, his face a mask of awe as if he is witnessing a sunrise for the very first time. They could not know the sensation of the very air around them electrifying at his nearness, of unseen sparks igniting at the barest of touches. And they could not know the wonder of waking to whispered words of love so beautiful that it could warm up a soul to downtrodden by the ugliness of lives lost.
If Betty and Nick and the others could see that, feel that, then they would get why she and Gil work. Sure, Sara would love to see her husband more often, lie in his arms each time she went to bed, wake to his gentle caress, but that time wasn’t right now. So, they turned minutes into days and moments into lifetimes, filling in the spaces until they were together again once more.