Fic Post - Breakfast
Title: Breakfast
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Sara
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don’t sue.
Summary: Five years of innuendo, of flirtatious banter, have been perfectly safe, because they were never going to lead anywhere. Because Sara’s always been off-limits and Nick’s always known it.
Previous: Curtain Call, Strings, Fear, Common Ground.
By the end of Nick’s second shift, he’s already back into the swing of things. A few weeks’ interruption wasn’t enough to make him forget years of routine. Dinner helped to ease his nerves, but the first night was still a little rough, although Nick’s fairly sure that was mostly his own fault. He was so desperate to prove that he’s capable that it never occurred to him to wonder if maybe he was only trying to prove it to himself, because no one else seemed to have any doubts. By the second night, though, things more or less returned to normal, if anything about this job can really be said to be normal.
He owes Sara breakfast; it was late and they were both beat by the time they left the basketball court yesterday, but she did win the game - barely. They’re pretty evenly matched at basketball, as it turns out, and Nick figures he owes Sara a hell of a lot more than a breakfast anyway.
The heat wave that’s had Las Vegas sweltering broke with an impressive storm yesterday evening. No rain, but plenty of lightning as colder air moved in, and, after a blessedly cool night, it’s promising to be the first really pleasant day Vegas has had in awhile. “Somewhere outdoors,” Sara answers when Nick asks her where she wants to go for breakfast, and he doesn’t blame her; if he’d spent half the night lifting prints from a seedy motel bathroom, he’d want outdoors too.
“Well,” he says as he starts the car, “we’ve got all day. You want to get takeout and go somewhere?”
“Such as -?”
He picks at random. “Lake Mead? It’s a nice day for it.”
Sara hesitates, and Nick wonders if she’s going to object on environmental grounds. Driving to Lake Mead for no reason at all isn’t exactly cutting down on greenhouse gases. She nods, though. “Lake Mead sounds good.”
They stop for a takeout breakfast, then head out to a rest stop close to the highway with a few picnic tables and a good view of the lake. It’s a bit of a lovers’ lane, or sometimes a party spot, for any kids who can drive out here, and there are a few bits of broken glass lying around. “You know, I found a stolen car here once,” Sara comments as they choose a picnic table.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm. Kid took his girlfriend out here and crashed his parents’ car.” She begins sorting takeout boxes. “Rather than fess up, they hid it in the bushes over there and then called in a carjacking.”
Nick laughs. “Geniuses.”
“They thought so. Til we found the car twenty feet from where it was supposed to have been stolen, with their DNA all over the airbags. The detective was so pissed off at having wasted his time that he made sure they were charged with failing to report an accident on top of everything else.”
“Man, my parents would’ve killed me before I could even be charged.”
Sara grins. “What, you never did anything stupid in high school?”
“Plenty of stuff, but nothing that got the cops involved.” No, in high school, Nick was the good guy. Smart if not brilliant, reliable, he had his fair share of trouble, but he was also the guy people wanted around to cover for them. The big brother everyone never had. Come to think of it, not much has changed.
Of course, Sara’s not about to let that comment pass, and she teases out the story of the beat-up old car Nick’s brother bought for next to nothing, intending to fix it up. Nick borrowed it first, though, failing to notice that most of the oil had leaked onto the garage floor overnight. He ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere with a ruined engine, and of course, that was long before everyone carried a cell phone.
Although Sara’s laughing at him, Nick doesn’t really mind; he doesn’t get to hear Sara laugh nearly enough. Anyway, he’s laughing at himself too. “You want me to check the oil before we leave?” Sara asks around a bite of muffin.
“Very funny.” Nick tosses a balled-up paper napkin at her and Sara ducks and bats it away, then has to chase it before the wind carries it off.
They finish eating and spend awhile just enjoying the cool of the morning before the sun gets high enough to remind them that, although the worst of the heat may have passed, it’s still summer in Nevada. They head back to Nick’s air-conditioned house when the picnic table in the sun begins to be uncomfortable.
Nick hesitates before offering her a beer when they reach his place. He’s fairly sure he only knows part of the story with Sara and alcohol, but, he reasons, she doesn’t have to go anywhere today, and he only has four cans in the fridge anyway, so it’s not as if either of them will be getting all that drunk. Besides, Nick wants one too. At the back of his mind, he knows that’s not so much reasoning as it is making excuses to himself for doing what he knows he shouldn’t, but Sara accepts the drink and then it’s too late.
No matter how many channels there are, it’s next to impossible to find something worth watching in the middle of the day. In the absence of anything better, Nick’s habit is to turn on whatever nature documentary he can find, and Sara’s never objected to that, so he finds a program about threatened coastal saltmarshes. It’s also become a habit to reach for Sara’s hand as soon as they sit down, and she hasn’t objected to that, either, so he does, and their hands rest on Nick’s thigh.
Sara finishes her beer and turns down the offer of a second, and Nick is both relieved and absurdly proud of her. He doesn’t stop to examine that too closely. “Sara?”
“Yeah?”
“D’you want to have dinner Saturday night?” Nick wishes the words back before they’re fully out of his mouth. The single beer he had was nowhere near enough.
“Sure,” Sara answers, completely unaware of what Nick was really asking. They have dinner together all the time these days, and they’re both off Saturday night. If Nick were smart, he’d just leave it at that.
“No, Sara, I mean -“ He stops, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing, and trying desperately to come up with an ending for that sentence that doesn’t sound as though it comes straight from junior high. He should have known better. Five years of innuendo, of flirtatious banter, have been perfectly safe, because they were never going to lead anywhere. Because Sara’s always been off-limits and Nick’s always known it.
Sara finally looks up with a confused frown, which slowly becomes the barest hint of a smile. “Nick, did you just ask me out?”
Maybe he can still get out of this mess, turn it into a joke. “You already said yes, so -“
She narrows her eyes, though she’s still grinning, and turns back to the TV. Nick notes that her hand is still in his, resting on his leg. “For what it’s worth,” Sara says without taking her eyes off the screen, “yes. Again.”
It’s worth a lot. Nick exhales and finally begins to pay attention to the documentary.
Continued here.
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Sara
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don’t sue.
Summary: Five years of innuendo, of flirtatious banter, have been perfectly safe, because they were never going to lead anywhere. Because Sara’s always been off-limits and Nick’s always known it.
Previous: Curtain Call, Strings, Fear, Common Ground.
By the end of Nick’s second shift, he’s already back into the swing of things. A few weeks’ interruption wasn’t enough to make him forget years of routine. Dinner helped to ease his nerves, but the first night was still a little rough, although Nick’s fairly sure that was mostly his own fault. He was so desperate to prove that he’s capable that it never occurred to him to wonder if maybe he was only trying to prove it to himself, because no one else seemed to have any doubts. By the second night, though, things more or less returned to normal, if anything about this job can really be said to be normal.
He owes Sara breakfast; it was late and they were both beat by the time they left the basketball court yesterday, but she did win the game - barely. They’re pretty evenly matched at basketball, as it turns out, and Nick figures he owes Sara a hell of a lot more than a breakfast anyway.
The heat wave that’s had Las Vegas sweltering broke with an impressive storm yesterday evening. No rain, but plenty of lightning as colder air moved in, and, after a blessedly cool night, it’s promising to be the first really pleasant day Vegas has had in awhile. “Somewhere outdoors,” Sara answers when Nick asks her where she wants to go for breakfast, and he doesn’t blame her; if he’d spent half the night lifting prints from a seedy motel bathroom, he’d want outdoors too.
“Well,” he says as he starts the car, “we’ve got all day. You want to get takeout and go somewhere?”
“Such as -?”
He picks at random. “Lake Mead? It’s a nice day for it.”
Sara hesitates, and Nick wonders if she’s going to object on environmental grounds. Driving to Lake Mead for no reason at all isn’t exactly cutting down on greenhouse gases. She nods, though. “Lake Mead sounds good.”
They stop for a takeout breakfast, then head out to a rest stop close to the highway with a few picnic tables and a good view of the lake. It’s a bit of a lovers’ lane, or sometimes a party spot, for any kids who can drive out here, and there are a few bits of broken glass lying around. “You know, I found a stolen car here once,” Sara comments as they choose a picnic table.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm. Kid took his girlfriend out here and crashed his parents’ car.” She begins sorting takeout boxes. “Rather than fess up, they hid it in the bushes over there and then called in a carjacking.”
Nick laughs. “Geniuses.”
“They thought so. Til we found the car twenty feet from where it was supposed to have been stolen, with their DNA all over the airbags. The detective was so pissed off at having wasted his time that he made sure they were charged with failing to report an accident on top of everything else.”
“Man, my parents would’ve killed me before I could even be charged.”
Sara grins. “What, you never did anything stupid in high school?”
“Plenty of stuff, but nothing that got the cops involved.” No, in high school, Nick was the good guy. Smart if not brilliant, reliable, he had his fair share of trouble, but he was also the guy people wanted around to cover for them. The big brother everyone never had. Come to think of it, not much has changed.
Of course, Sara’s not about to let that comment pass, and she teases out the story of the beat-up old car Nick’s brother bought for next to nothing, intending to fix it up. Nick borrowed it first, though, failing to notice that most of the oil had leaked onto the garage floor overnight. He ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere with a ruined engine, and of course, that was long before everyone carried a cell phone.
Although Sara’s laughing at him, Nick doesn’t really mind; he doesn’t get to hear Sara laugh nearly enough. Anyway, he’s laughing at himself too. “You want me to check the oil before we leave?” Sara asks around a bite of muffin.
“Very funny.” Nick tosses a balled-up paper napkin at her and Sara ducks and bats it away, then has to chase it before the wind carries it off.
They finish eating and spend awhile just enjoying the cool of the morning before the sun gets high enough to remind them that, although the worst of the heat may have passed, it’s still summer in Nevada. They head back to Nick’s air-conditioned house when the picnic table in the sun begins to be uncomfortable.
Nick hesitates before offering her a beer when they reach his place. He’s fairly sure he only knows part of the story with Sara and alcohol, but, he reasons, she doesn’t have to go anywhere today, and he only has four cans in the fridge anyway, so it’s not as if either of them will be getting all that drunk. Besides, Nick wants one too. At the back of his mind, he knows that’s not so much reasoning as it is making excuses to himself for doing what he knows he shouldn’t, but Sara accepts the drink and then it’s too late.
No matter how many channels there are, it’s next to impossible to find something worth watching in the middle of the day. In the absence of anything better, Nick’s habit is to turn on whatever nature documentary he can find, and Sara’s never objected to that, so he finds a program about threatened coastal saltmarshes. It’s also become a habit to reach for Sara’s hand as soon as they sit down, and she hasn’t objected to that, either, so he does, and their hands rest on Nick’s thigh.
Sara finishes her beer and turns down the offer of a second, and Nick is both relieved and absurdly proud of her. He doesn’t stop to examine that too closely. “Sara?”
“Yeah?”
“D’you want to have dinner Saturday night?” Nick wishes the words back before they’re fully out of his mouth. The single beer he had was nowhere near enough.
“Sure,” Sara answers, completely unaware of what Nick was really asking. They have dinner together all the time these days, and they’re both off Saturday night. If Nick were smart, he’d just leave it at that.
“No, Sara, I mean -“ He stops, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing, and trying desperately to come up with an ending for that sentence that doesn’t sound as though it comes straight from junior high. He should have known better. Five years of innuendo, of flirtatious banter, have been perfectly safe, because they were never going to lead anywhere. Because Sara’s always been off-limits and Nick’s always known it.
Sara finally looks up with a confused frown, which slowly becomes the barest hint of a smile. “Nick, did you just ask me out?”
Maybe he can still get out of this mess, turn it into a joke. “You already said yes, so -“
She narrows her eyes, though she’s still grinning, and turns back to the TV. Nick notes that her hand is still in his, resting on his leg. “For what it’s worth,” Sara says without taking her eyes off the screen, “yes. Again.”
It’s worth a lot. Nick exhales and finally begins to pay attention to the documentary.
Continued here.