FIC: Ashes to Ashes Ch. 3 [CSI Las Vegas - Ashesverse: Part 1]
Ashes to Ashes
Part One of the Ashesverse
Rating: PG
Previous Chapters: One, Two
Previous Stories: Oneshot Prologue
Author's Note: I took a break from writing this to finish laying out the storyline, and I ended up not only laying out the storyline for this particular story, but two sequels as well. As I have definitive ending points for each chapter and each story, it now just comes down to sitting down and doing the fun part - the writing! Read, if you have something to say, review, it really does make my day to see the reviews in my inbox. I also made a LiveJournal account for my stories, if you want to follow me on there as well. But if you're reading this post, you evidently know it exists. ;]
-three and a half months ago-
Gil Grissom was used to a lot of things, having been a crime scene investigator for many years. He had seen people at their very worst, in every state from being eerily poised, to having complete nervous breakdowns, to being, well, dead. However, the scene in front of him baffled and confused him.
"Gris...just...leave..." Sara muttered viciously, as she stalked around the room, clutching her stomach and occasionally screaming in pain. Seeing him raise his eyebrows and open his mouth to speak, she repeated herself. "Just...leave...I don't want you to have to deal with this."
"What's wrong?" he said, with a concerned edge to his voice. Her expression changed from one of twisted pain to one of anger, and he realized he had said something wrong. "I mean, nothing's wrong with you, but what's going on? Why are you pushing me away? Talk to me, Sara."
She exhaled, and the small exhalation of air lifted the hair off her face for a fraction of a second. "I'm in pain, and I want to be alone for a bit. Can you give me that much?" She said, and turned away to look out the window, bowled over by another wave of pain.
Walking out the door, he turned to look at Sara, one last time. "Feel better, I'll be back soon, and I love you," he whispered, just loudly enough for her to hear, and he closed the door behind himself.
Sara fidgeted in the cold chairs of the baggage claim, and aimlessly flipped through a magazine she had found at her gate. "Airports," she thought to herself, "are no place to spend the night." After her flight had landed almost four hours before...some sort of bird carcass on the runway in Los Angeles had delayed her flight by over an hour, she had been waging the internal battle with herself, to call Nick, or not to call Nick.
Would he be on duty, solving crimes? Would he be in bed? She had dialed his number multiple times, and every time until the last, she had chickened out of actually calling him. The last thing she wanted to do was to be a burden, but apparently, he felt she wasn't a burden if he was making an unplanned run out to the airport at five in the morning to pick her up.
-the next morning-
She had fallen asleep shortly after Grissom left. It wasn't even intentional; she had hoped to stay up until he came back, so that they could talk things out and not go to bed with any possible tension between them. After crying through the stomach pain she had been enduring, she had fallen asleep, clutching her pillow. Surprisingly, hers had been an easy sleep, and she woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
Getting out of bed, Sara realized his side of the bed was perfectly folded, as though no one had slept in it recently. She also realized, as she walked around, that everything was just as she had left it the night before. "He hasn't come home," she said out loud, to no one in particular, while grabbing her purse. It was time to find her fiancé.
Nick was, in the eyes of the law, more than likely way, way over the speed limit, though he found himself, strangely, not particularly caring if he got pulled over or not. Thoughts about Sara raced through his head. Not knowing how stable Sara was, based on the tear-filled phone call he had with her, he didn't want to say too much. He didn't want to scare her and make her bolt. He also knew that he had to say the right things, or that it would be too little, which wouldn't be good either.
"I'll...take her out for breakfast. I'm sure after her flight, she'd love to have a nice warm breakfast and some coffee, and maybe we can talk about it over breakfast," he thought to himself. "No, she might not want to have that conversation in public, where anyone could hear her. Maybe I'll take her home and fix her breakfast there. Hopefully I have enough eggs. She likes eggs, right?"
-four days later-
Sara sat in the lobby of the United States Embassy in San Jose, twiddling her thumbs, while waiting for quite some time for her name to be called. After combing the area around where they had been staying, and waiting anxiously for any word from him, she instinctively knew that she had done all she could realistically do without further assistance. She was worried about him, and thought about how she didn't mean for him to be gone quite this long when she asked him to leave. Hopefully he hadn't misinterpreted her.
"Ms. Sidle?" A wiry young man in his late twenties came out to the lobby and shook her hand. "I'm Paul, and I’ll be helping you today. Follow me, and we'll get started." Sara nodded and followed him to his office, preparing to tell him everything that would help. Anything would be better than this uncertainty, she thought. It would have to be better.
Nick pulled into the short-term parking area and eased his car into the nearest spot to the baggage claim that he could find, eager to see her again. Walking as fast as he could without breaking into a jog, he made his way inside. As he looked around, he tried to find her. "Sara!" He said, with a smile, seeing her in one of the chairs.
She looked over at him as she heard his voice and saw him approaching her. Standing up from her chair, she said softly, barely above a whisper, "You came."
"Always."
-to be continued-
Part One of the Ashesverse
Rating: PG
Previous Chapters: One, Two
Previous Stories: Oneshot Prologue
Author's Note: I took a break from writing this to finish laying out the storyline, and I ended up not only laying out the storyline for this particular story, but two sequels as well. As I have definitive ending points for each chapter and each story, it now just comes down to sitting down and doing the fun part - the writing! Read, if you have something to say, review, it really does make my day to see the reviews in my inbox. I also made a LiveJournal account for my stories, if you want to follow me on there as well. But if you're reading this post, you evidently know it exists. ;]
-three and a half months ago-
Gil Grissom was used to a lot of things, having been a crime scene investigator for many years. He had seen people at their very worst, in every state from being eerily poised, to having complete nervous breakdowns, to being, well, dead. However, the scene in front of him baffled and confused him.
"Gris...just...leave..." Sara muttered viciously, as she stalked around the room, clutching her stomach and occasionally screaming in pain. Seeing him raise his eyebrows and open his mouth to speak, she repeated herself. "Just...leave...I don't want you to have to deal with this."
"What's wrong?" he said, with a concerned edge to his voice. Her expression changed from one of twisted pain to one of anger, and he realized he had said something wrong. "I mean, nothing's wrong with you, but what's going on? Why are you pushing me away? Talk to me, Sara."
She exhaled, and the small exhalation of air lifted the hair off her face for a fraction of a second. "I'm in pain, and I want to be alone for a bit. Can you give me that much?" She said, and turned away to look out the window, bowled over by another wave of pain.
Walking out the door, he turned to look at Sara, one last time. "Feel better, I'll be back soon, and I love you," he whispered, just loudly enough for her to hear, and he closed the door behind himself.
Sara fidgeted in the cold chairs of the baggage claim, and aimlessly flipped through a magazine she had found at her gate. "Airports," she thought to herself, "are no place to spend the night." After her flight had landed almost four hours before...some sort of bird carcass on the runway in Los Angeles had delayed her flight by over an hour, she had been waging the internal battle with herself, to call Nick, or not to call Nick.
Would he be on duty, solving crimes? Would he be in bed? She had dialed his number multiple times, and every time until the last, she had chickened out of actually calling him. The last thing she wanted to do was to be a burden, but apparently, he felt she wasn't a burden if he was making an unplanned run out to the airport at five in the morning to pick her up.
-the next morning-
She had fallen asleep shortly after Grissom left. It wasn't even intentional; she had hoped to stay up until he came back, so that they could talk things out and not go to bed with any possible tension between them. After crying through the stomach pain she had been enduring, she had fallen asleep, clutching her pillow. Surprisingly, hers had been an easy sleep, and she woke up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
Getting out of bed, Sara realized his side of the bed was perfectly folded, as though no one had slept in it recently. She also realized, as she walked around, that everything was just as she had left it the night before. "He hasn't come home," she said out loud, to no one in particular, while grabbing her purse. It was time to find her fiancé.
Nick was, in the eyes of the law, more than likely way, way over the speed limit, though he found himself, strangely, not particularly caring if he got pulled over or not. Thoughts about Sara raced through his head. Not knowing how stable Sara was, based on the tear-filled phone call he had with her, he didn't want to say too much. He didn't want to scare her and make her bolt. He also knew that he had to say the right things, or that it would be too little, which wouldn't be good either.
"I'll...take her out for breakfast. I'm sure after her flight, she'd love to have a nice warm breakfast and some coffee, and maybe we can talk about it over breakfast," he thought to himself. "No, she might not want to have that conversation in public, where anyone could hear her. Maybe I'll take her home and fix her breakfast there. Hopefully I have enough eggs. She likes eggs, right?"
-four days later-
Sara sat in the lobby of the United States Embassy in San Jose, twiddling her thumbs, while waiting for quite some time for her name to be called. After combing the area around where they had been staying, and waiting anxiously for any word from him, she instinctively knew that she had done all she could realistically do without further assistance. She was worried about him, and thought about how she didn't mean for him to be gone quite this long when she asked him to leave. Hopefully he hadn't misinterpreted her.
"Ms. Sidle?" A wiry young man in his late twenties came out to the lobby and shook her hand. "I'm Paul, and I’ll be helping you today. Follow me, and we'll get started." Sara nodded and followed him to his office, preparing to tell him everything that would help. Anything would be better than this uncertainty, she thought. It would have to be better.
Nick pulled into the short-term parking area and eased his car into the nearest spot to the baggage claim that he could find, eager to see her again. Walking as fast as he could without breaking into a jog, he made his way inside. As he looked around, he tried to find her. "Sara!" He said, with a smile, seeing her in one of the chairs.
She looked over at him as she heard his voice and saw him approaching her. Standing up from her chair, she said softly, barely above a whisper, "You came."
"Always."
-to be continued-