Back To You

Chapter 23:

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The automatic timers had turned on the exterior lighting, bathing the house in a gentle glow.

"It's . . . " she was at a loss for words, blinking a few times, as if the house were a mirage and would disappear . . . "so big."

"It's perfect," Nick summed up. Sara turned her head to look at him in surprise.

They hadn't exactly had the opportunity to sit down and discuss whether or not they would actually accept the house as a gift from his parents. Not that it wasn't a nice gesture. It was. It's just that it was a huge decision. And they had a lot of things to discuss in relations to this particular house. Did they have time to maintain a large home and yard? Could they afford the yearly taxes? What about commute time to the lab? Sure, his parents had said that it wasn't too bad, but would they agree? And now that they had a baby on the way, they needed to think about safety. Being around a lake, school systems . . . her head was swimming with all these unanswered questions.

"Don't you think so, honey?" Nick peered down at her with such hope in his eyes. She found herself staring at a man who appeared to not have a care in the world. She glanced back at Jillian and Bill who were watching them from a few feet back, expectant smiles etched across their faces.

She liked to think things through. Not make snap decisions. Informed decisions had always been a part of her life . . . the few times she'd made snap decisions, things hadn't gone so well . . . and yet she had three happy people staring at her, waiting for her positive answer. If it wasn't what they wanted to hear, no doubt, they would be upset. Not necessarily angry, but not thrilled . . .

"Sara?" he prodded when she was taking too long . . .

She took a deep breath and it wasn't until the words were leaving her mouth, that she knew what she was going to say. "It's beautiful."

Nick let out a breath of air and scooped her up in his arms, swinging her around happily as he laughed.

She giggled, but soon started to get queasy. "Nick, stop."

He immediately set up her down, "sorry," he apologized, though he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face.

She'd said it was beautiful. It wasn't a lie. It truly was a gorgeous home. Of course, that hadn't been a yes. Nor had it been a no. It hadn't been a definitive answer, but the three Stokes had taken it as such.

"If you think this is beautiful," Jillian smiled warmly, "I think you'll love the inside." She grabbed Sara's hand excitedly and lead her towards the front door.

Bill and Nick strode behind them, Bill patting his sons back. "She's never actually been inside, either."

Nick glanced at his father questioningly. Bill chuckled.

"She took a look at the available floorplans for this neighborhood and chose one. She swears its one that would suit you, but I think it's her favorite. And she was the one who chose the finishing touches. The kitchen was her favorite. And the bathrooms. I swear, I was sure she was thinking about remodeling the ranch."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like mom." He stepped into the house and looked around, whistling. It echoed because of the lack of home furnishings. "Now this is a grand entrance." The two story foyer was beautiful in every detail. From the stone flooring, to the wrought iron stair case . . .

Nick could see the sparkle in Sara's eyes. One that hadn't been there before. He stepped behind her, pulling her body against his. "You coming around?"

She glanced back at him curiously.

"I know you were just humoring me before, Sara," he smiled, then kissed her cheek. "I know you too well for you to be able to pull the wool over my eyes on that one."

She chuckled, turning in his arms. "I just don't know, Nick."

"I'm gonna go find Jillian," Bill said as he excused himself to give the two a moment to talk privately. He exitted in the direction that he could only assume was towards the kitchen - a room which Jillian couldn't wait to see, as she'd deemed it a masterpiece before it had even be completed.

"Here," Nick said, gliding the two of them back towards the stairs. "Sit down."

They settled themselves on the hard surface, Nick's arm around Sara as she leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. "Everything I have, I've always had to work for. And I've prided myself on that Nick. No one would've done something like this for me. Actually, I don't think there are many people that can say their parents, or people who are like their parents, bought them a home. I feel like as soon as I start letting myself believe in a fairytale, it'll get ripped from me."

"My parents would never take our home away from us, Sara," he assured her.

A few tears slipped down her face. Since the night he'd come back to her, she'd done so well as to not breaking down about his apparent 'death' in front of him. She didn't want to put him on the spot, or make him talk about something that he wasn't ready too. But she hadn't expected for him to put up a wall and seemingly act like it hadn't happened, either . . . and she'd slowly been feeling herself start to crumble. "I know they wouldn't take the house away Nick. It's just . . . I never let myself believe that someone as wonderful as you could ever love me."

"Oh, Sara," he said, his own tears coming to his eyes.

"But you did happen, Nick. And I felt like I was on cloud nine. I never wanted it to end. But there was always this small part of me that expect it too. Nothing good ever lasts. Not for me. And then when I finally started to believe that fairytales could come true, you were taken from me, Nick." She wiped the stray tears away from her eyes. "I've worked for everything, Nick. Everything but you. What we have . . . . it just kind of happened."

"I understand . . . I think," he said quietly, rubbing small circles on her lower back.

"I know this doesn't make much sense, but try and understand, OK?" She looked at him as he nodded. "I didn't believe that I would ever have a fairytale anything. Those only happen to celebrities in La La Land. To royalty. Not to people like me. And if a regular person did manage to have a fairytale, they'd only get one. You were my fairytale. Then you were gone. My great love was gone," she put her palms against his cheeks again, almost as if she were checking to make sure he was really in front of her. "But you came back. And I got a second fairytale. Even though I never truly felt like you were gone, I couldn't make myself believe it, people just don't go away and come back like you have. Not when one of the best crime labs in the country felt that they had sufficient evidence to say that you weren't coming back." She took a shaky breath and stood up gingerly, careful not to loose her balance. She gestured to the foyer. "This is like a third fairytale, Nick. I'm pressing my luck, here. I just don't want to wake up one day and have it all be gone. You're all the fairytale I need."

He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not going anywhere, Sara." He pulled out of the embrace, but held tightly to her hand. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, he looked away as he said, "when I was gone, I had a lot of time to think. About how much you mean to me. I mean, I knew before, but . . . being away just solidified it. I was miserable without you. I'm never leaving again. Not if I can help it."

The tears continued to pour from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest. They clung to each other, desperate to never be apart again.

After a few minutes, Sara chuckled softly, wiping at the smudges under her eyes. "I must look like a mess."

He shook his head, moving her hands away from her face as he took over wiping at the delecate skin beneath her eyes. "You look beautiful. Always."

She smacked at his chest, blushing slightly. "You just wanna get lucky."

He smirked. "No, that's not it. But," he paused, leaning in and whispering in her ear, "if I did wanna get lucky, would I?"

"Hmm, let me think," she pretended to ponder the thought for a moment before leaning in and capturing his lips in a kiss.

"So, where are we on the issue of the house?" he asked. "Do you like it?"

"Like it?" She looked at him with wide eyes. "I love it, but . . . I don't know."

"My parents want to do this for us, Sara. So, if that's whats holding you back -"

"That's not it," she finally decided. "It was very generous of them."

"Then what's holding you back?"

"Schools, and taxes, and commute time from here to work . . ."

He smiled. "OK, so we'll look into that stuff. We can even try living here because my parents bought it for us already and if it just doesn't feel like home, like us, we can find somewhere else."

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. "Tell you what, lets check out the rest of the house, and when we go back to your town house -"

"Our house," corrected her.

She smiled widely, biting her lip, "sorry, our house, we can discuss things a little more. I just don't want to rush into something for the sake of giving your parents an answer. Our lives have been turned upside down and inside out. I think we just need a little stability."

"And with the baby on the way, making a snap decision as big as a house doesn't make much sense."

"Not if we want to be settled by the time the baby comes. I just want to make sure that this is what is right for us."

"What's right for me is what is right for you and our child."

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The next morning, Sara woke up to an empty bed. Though Nick's side hadn't been made, it was obvious that it had hardly been slept in as the sheets weren't tangled. And the mattress was cold. Her head rolled to the side and she sighed, noting that the time was 7am. She flung the covers off of her body and threw her legs over the side of the bed, getting up as easily as she could. Though expanding stomach was making even the most routine things difficult.

As she walked into the kitchen, the aroma made her smile. Coffee. Remembering that she couldn't have any, she frowned slightly, but continued on her quest in finding Nick. Passing by the front door, she caught a glimpse of the back of his head through the window. Quietly, she slipped on a pair of flip flops and then opened the door.

"Good morning," she greeted softly. She noticed that he was startled as he nearly launched himself into a standing position, turning to look at her.

He smiled a little, embarrassed. "Good morning, darlin'," he greeted back softly. He felt her sit down beside him and rest her hand on his inner thigh, before she leaned in, and rested her head against his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her waist. "How are you feeling?"

"OK," she smiled. She didn't feel sick, and it was a nice way to wake up - not running to the bathroom. "Although, I'm a little grumpy."

"Why is that?" he smirked.

She nodded to his cup before pouting pitifully. "No coffee."

He chuckled, handing her his mug. "I went to the store this morning. It's decaf."

She looked startled. "You went this morning? When?" She knew it wasn't unheard of to have stores open 24 hours a day, but after leaving Lake Las Vegas, and returning to the town house, it'd been after 11. And everyone had headed off to bed.

"I dunno," he shrugged, though he knew perfectly what time it had been. "Early."

She nodded her head, reminding herself to pick and choose her battles. Things would have to be dealt with in fairly short order, but calling him out on lying about when he went to buy coffee was a little too trival. She placed the cup of coffee under her nose, inhaling the sweet smell before bringing the liquid to her lips for a delicious taste. Her eyes roamed the small front yard and came to a rest on the recycling and garbage bins that sat at the end of the driveway, filled to the brim.

Noticing her questioning glance at the materials, he shrugged. "Garage needed to be cleaned. It's done now."

"Did you sleep at all?" she said abruptly. They'd been in Vegas for less than 18 hours, and he was already grocery shopping and cleaning out the garage?

"Enough" was his simple response.

She nodded, slightly uncomfortable with the situation. She didn't know how to deal with it. It had to be done and she was at a loss. She'd dealt with rapists and murderers and managed to get confessions from people that put them away for life, or to find evidence that cleared wrongfully accused. And yet, the love of her life was obviously suffering, and she had no way to get him to open up. No words to comfort him. No way of truly understanding just what it was that he needed.

"Trash and recycling get picked up on Tuesdays now," she said softly.

"Oh," was the sad sounding response that he gave. "I guess more has changed than I realized."

He sounded bitter.

"Has anything not changed?" he looked at her, a bit of coldness reflecting from his normally brown, but now almost black orbs.

"Nick," she started, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand as he stood up and made his way down the driveway towards the garbage and recycling.

She watched as he stood at the end of the driveway for a moment as his rigid body seemed to relax and his shoulders sagged. He grabbed the handles of both the trash and recycling bins, wheeling them back towards the house. He placed them beside the garage, before returning to Sara's side, sitting down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cut you off."

"No, no, I understand. A lot of things are different now and you're just trying to readjust."

"Yeah, I know you understand," he said. There was no emotion behind the words. But she knew that he didn't really believe that she understood. And she knew that she didn't really understand. "So, have you made your decision?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, raising an eyebrow.

"You said you'd sleep on it."

"And I said that I wanted to look into school systems, and taxes, and commute -"

"We checked the commute last night," he pointed out. After leaving Lake Las Vegas, they'd driven to the crime lab. Having driven the speed limit, they managed to reach headquarters in 19 minutes."

"That's true," she acknowledge, "but with gas prices, I'd like to figure out how much more it's going to cost. It's an additional ten minutes of driving each way, and with gas prices continuing to rise, and cars hindering the environment . . ."

"Just say it!" he said in an accusatory tone, standing up and walking into the house, his voice raised a little bit.

She was taken by surprise once again with his sudden outburst. "Say what?" she asked, standing up and following him inside, her voice taking on an edge. Her hormones were on overdrive and as much as she knew that Nick really couldn't help his outbursts at the moment, neither could she.

"That you don't want to move in with me!"

Her face dropped and she sat down on the sofa, unable to speak. To even think.

"The idea of spending the rest of your life with me repulses you, but because we're having a baby, you're stuck with me! Isn't that it?" he paced back and forth, the vein in his neck throbbing.

"What?! Nick, no! That's not it at all!"

"Then what is it? Huh?" He picked up a stack of papers and threw them down onto the coffee table in front of her, the stack landing with a thud. He recognized that he was being an ass, and that Sara didn't deserve to be at the receiving end of his tirade, but he couldn't stop, though he tried. "I looked online at taxes last night. It's only a couple hundred more a year than what I was paying here. We can handle it. It's not like you'd be paying rent at your apartment, so we could swing it. And the school system near Lake Las Vegas is one of the best in the county. It's public school, so if you want to send our kid to private school, we can look into that. It'll cost a lot of money, but we can do it. Butterfield is only a 15 minute bus ride from the house."

She watched him in silence for a few minutes. And he watched her. Sighing, she realized that there was only one thing to do. "You've really done your research," she commented softly, picking up some of the papers he'd dropped in front of her. She leafed through it. The house was definitely beautiful. A dream, really. And she could completely picture herself living there. Waking up in Nick's arms everyday. A couple of kids and a dog . . . she could picture everything. Everything except the white picket fence. That she didn't want. Never had. In fact, she dreamed about it all during the night.

He sat down heavily on the chair beside the couch she was sitting on. He ran a hand over his head and tired eyes. "I have."

She reached over and grabbed one of his hands. "And you want this?" she asked him. "And I do mean this," she waved her hands around at them, to the baby, to the house. "You want it all?"

He tried to smile, but his emotions were still bubbling inside of him and he didn't know how they'd come out. His outburst had even startled him.

"And you want it here?" she pointed to the folder that had been placed on the coffee table the night before, it's contents the pictures of their new home, and the community of Lake Las Vegas.

"I do," he whispered.

"Then lets do it," she nodded, smiling a little herself.

"Are you sure?" he questioned her.

"I've never been more sure of anything, Nick," she answered honestly, standing up and pulling him up from the chair. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug and smiled when she felt him wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her tightly to him, but mindful of the baby. "I'm in this for the long haul, Nick. Don't forget that."

"I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you, Sara," he said honestly. "I don't think I'd make it."

"Don't talk like that," she gently scolded him. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "I love you. Do you hear me?"

His eyes teared up and he smiled partially through watery eyes. "I love you, too."

They brought their lips together in a sweet kiss, both knowing that they faced an uncertain future . . . .

TBC . . .
 
I agree, some counselling would do him a world of good. As long as sarah is on board to help him recover it should make it somewhateasier on nick to overcome his ordeal. I think its sweat how he was able to return to her. I could actually feel her hurt at the supposed death of nick. I couldn't imagine loosing my boi because of something like that. Great update and please update soon!!
 
It was a week later and Nick's parents had returned to Texas after helping them settle into the new house. They didn't have enough furniture to fill the spaces, but Sara had insisted that it wasn't a problem. They would slowly finish the house off as they needed it. And they were having their first 'team' get together.

"It's beautiful," Lindsay said in an awed tone as she rejoined the adults in the backyard in the afternoon sun. Thankfully, Vegas was going through a 'cold snap' - which at this time of year, was a welcome relief from the scorching hot sun.

"Thanks Linds," Sara smiled from her comfortable position in the lawn chair, her arms on arm rests and hands laying over her swollen belly.

"Just wait until they get the arcade going!" Greg told the girl, smiling broadly.

Nick laughed. "Can't wait man."

"I'm so gonna kick your ass at every game, Nick," Warrick said, shrugging off Nick's enthusiasm. He'd get over that really quick.

"Hold on. The what?" Sara sat up a little, her attention firmly fixed on Nick.

He chuckled, flipping the burgers on the grill. "The game room, hun," he answered.

The one downside to the house was that the basement had two center rooms in the basement that didn't have any windows to let in natural light. Nick had immediately been put on edge, and Sara had assured him that they would do something fun with those rooms so they could make happy memories. One of the rooms had been deemed the 'theater.' They didn't have the money yet, but one day, they planned to buy a large plasma HDTV and some plush seating and a kick ass projection unit. The other had been deemed 'the game room.' Which Greg was now calling the arcade.

"Do you remember when the arcade in the mall was going out of business?" Greg asked. Sara nodded. "Well, I heard through a friend of a friend that the games were being sold really cheap -" Sara rolled her eyes "-and I didn't tell you before now because I knew you'd roll your eyes at me. But I bought them anyway. How could I not? Of course, after I got them home, I realized that unless I got rid of my bedroom all together, I wouldn't have the room. And rather than selling the games, I put them in a storage unit. Nick said we could set 'em up here in the games room."

Catherine turned to look at Sara dramatically. "We're never going to see them again - at least, not outside of work. You do know this, right?"

"We are so gonna sound proof that room," she sighed. "And we might not see Warrick or Greg outside of work, but Nick's not gonna get out of diaper duty or three am feeding and changings."

He smiled sideways at Sara. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Warrick chuckled. "Say that with a straight face when you're elbow deep in poopy diapers."

"This is gonna be perfect," Lindsay summed up, taking attention away from the diaper talk. "An arcade, a theater, a gym, and a pool. All you'd need is a massage therapist and a shopping mall and you'd never have to leave the house!"

Catherine chuckled. "That's my girl. Always thinking about the mall."

"Sorry I'm late," Gil said, announcing his arrival as he stepped onto the deck. "Hope you don't mind but I let myself in."

"Not at all," Sara smiled. "Have a seat."

He smiled gratefully, sitting down in the vacant chair.

"What's in the bag, Uncle Gil?" Lindsay asked curiously peaking into the bag.

"A gift?" she batted her eyelashes. "But it's not even my birthday."

Gil chuckled. "No, that's right. Your birthday is in a few weeks. And believe me, you're going to love your gift." On the inside, he could feel himself sweating buckets. He hadn't even started to think of a gift for Catherine's daughter. "This," he lifted the bag on to the table, "is for the baby."

"You didn't have to get the baby anything," Nick smiled as he shut the lid on the BBQ, deeming it safe to leave the meat for a minute. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Gil," Sara echoed Nick's sentiments.

He shook his head smiling. "You don't have to thank me." After a minute, he motioned to the package, unable to hide his excitement. "Open it, please."

"OK," Sara smiled as she reached for the bag and tried to hand it to Nick.

"Go ahead," he told her.

She ripped the packaging paper out of the gift bag and then removed the box from the bag itself. "A Bug mobile?" she asked.

Catherine pursed her lips together in an effort to contain her laughter.

Sara's eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at the generic brown box with a picture of what the mobine looked like. The bugs looked way too real. Maybe this would put Grissom to sleep, but she sure as hell wouldn't subject her child to that kind of torture.

"Um, thanks," she smiled, biting her lip, trying to think of a tactful way of saying 'thanks, but no.'

Grissom looked at Nick expectantly, waiting for a response from him.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and muttered 'poor kid,' which 'caused Warrick and Greg to each loose the little bit of composure that they had as they bust out laughing.

Finally, Grissom chuckled himself. "Relax, guys," he smirked. He took the box from Sara's hands and opened it up, pulling out the contents. It really was a mobile, just not of realistic bugs. Though in Grissom fashion, it did contain some of natures wonders. "The butterflies glow in the dark and the fireflies actually have little night lights in the wings."

Sara released a breath of air and chuckled in relief. "Oh, Thank God!" She fingered the mobile that Grissom was holding up. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"Thanks Bug Man - I mean, Boss Man," Nick smirked extending his hand for Grissom to take in a manly gesture.

"Lets eat!" Lindsay announced, ready to munch on some burgers and chips.

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The sun was beginning to set and the afternoon get together was slowly winding down.

"I'm glad their back," Grissom announced to his three team members that sat around the table. Nick and Sara were in their kitchen, at the sink, smiling and chuckling softly at something only they knew of.

"Me too," Greg smiled. "It's been really weird around here without them."

"Their back in Vegas man, but not at the Lab," Warrick reminded him.

"It's only a matter of time," he shrugged in indifference. "They both love what they do too much to stay away much longer."

"Don't count on it happening right away, Greg," Catherine sighed. "I don't think Sara will be back until after the baby is born -"

"Why?"

"Because," Grissom started, "her doctor told her to stay away from stress, and our jobs are full of it. Besides, even if she did come back, it wouldn't be long until she'd be taken out of the field and have to do paperwork and research for our cases. And you know Sara - she wouldn't like that. Which would fuel her stress. As far as Nick goes -- he's been through so much -"

"And working might help him move past it," Greg pointed out.

Grissom nodded his head. "Perhaps. But their returns aren't up to me. Sara would need consent from her doctor, which I doubt she'd get. And Nick, as per the guidelines at CSI, he is on mandatory time off right now. If and when he does decide it's time to come back, he'd have to go to a certain amount of counseling sessions before they'd even entertain the idea of him coming back. And it's not a guarantee that it'd happen." Grissom shrugged. "Lets just take it one day at a time, OK, Greggo?"

Greg nodded his head in agreement, turning his attention back to the window that let them look into the kitchen. Sara and Nick were now standing toe to toe, gazing into each other eyes smiling broadly, laughing at something. Nick lowered his head and captured Sara's lips in a short, but intense lip lock. "Looking at them, you'd never know that they've been apart."

Warrick nodded his head. Nick was definitely trying, that's for sure . . .

Grissom's cell rang and he unclipped it from his belt. "Hello? . . . Mmm hmm . . . have they hatched? . . . What does it look like? . . . . How long ago? . . . . I'll be there in twenty." He hung up the phone. "Duty calls," he sighed.

Greg's phone went off as Grissom stood up. "Sanders . . . she didn't? . . . . is she OK? . . . Good, at least it was a minor accident . . . the lab is backing up . . . three hours?!" he glanced at the others at the table with distaste. "Yeah, I'll be in shortly." He flipped the phone shut, effectively ending the call. "Is it just me or as the lab been shot to shit since I left?"

The three nodded their heads in agreement.

"Wendy got into a minor accident on the way into work. Just a fender bender, but she pinched the nerve in her neck. The new girl doesn't have her cell phone on, and the lab tech that is there now has been by himself for the last three hours. They are severly backed up, so it looks like I'll be stuck there tonight until the other Lab techs are contacted."

"Lets hope it's a slow night," Warrick commented.

"Need a ride?" Grissom asked.

Greg nodded his head. "I got a ride with Cath and Warrick."

Grissom nodded his head. "We'll see you at the start of shift."

Just as the two men were about to enter the house, Nick and Sara appeared.

"You guys leaving?" Nick asked.

"Party time is over," Greg sighed. "Labs backed up. They need me."

"I'm needed on a consult," Grissom answered. "See you two soon?"

"Bet on it," Nick smiled, once again shaking Grissom's hand.

"Thanks again for the mobile, Gil," Sara reached up and gave him a hug. "It really is adorable."

"We're gonna have to set up a day to get the arcade up," Greg told Nick.

"Not before the sound proofing is done," Sara told them. "Sorry boys. It's just gonna have to wait."

"Aw," Greg pouted like a two year old, "but mom . . ." he whined.

Sara chuckled. "Nope. Not gonna work."

"But mooooom, all the other kids have them!"

Sara laughed. "God, I hope we don't have to deal with that whining for a long, LONG time," she rubbed her back a little.

Nick chuckled. "Go sit down with Warrick and Catherine," he told her. "I'll see these two out."

Sara smiled at Nick. "Bye you two."

"Bye."

She stepped out of the patio door to rejoin the remaining guests who were watching Lindsay swimming in the pool. "Just like a fish, huh?"

"She's gonna be begging me to build one now," Catherine sighed. "I hope you realize she'll be over here a lot."

Sara smiled. "She's welcome over any time she wants." The smile slowly disappeared from her lips. "So . . . ?" she looked at the two expectantly . . . "Is it just me? Am I making too big of a deal out of this?"

Warrick shook his head. "I noticed it."

"Me too," Catherine sighed. "I think Gil is picking up on it, too. But Greg . . . I just think he's thrilled that the two of you are back that he's blind to everything else, despite the fact that he's a CSI trained to see these things."

Sara sighed. "I hoped it was just me."

"Sara, were you expecting that everything would just go back to normal?" Catherine asked gently.

She shook her head. "No, I didn't. I mean, I guess a part of me hoped, but I know deep down that there is no way this hasn't effected him. I just don't know how to bring it up, you know? The smallest things make him mad right now, and I just don't want to set him off or put pressure on him that he can't handle."

"You walking on egg shells trying not to piss him off isn't good for you, either," Warrick pointed out.

Sara rested her head in her hands and sighed. "It just don't know what to do. I've tried to bring it up, to slowly get him to start opening up, but he shuts it right down. Just deflects the conversation somewhere else, and when I won't let it go, he either fights harder to steer the conversation in another direction, or he leaves the room, saying something has to be done. I want him to talk to me. Not to feel like I'm pushing him."

"He slips in and out, doesn't he?" Catherine asked quietly, trying to make sure that Lindsay didn't over hear, and to make sure that if Nick came back, he wouldn't hear the topic of their conversation. "Like he's paying attention and having a good time one minute, the same old Nick, and then the next, he's checked out, in his own world . . ."

"Every day," she shrugged. "I know he just came back to us. And I know that there is no magical cure, but . . . I just wish . . . ." the tears started to fall and she tried to regulate her breathing with deep, relaxed and controlled breaths. "He's not sleeping. I think he manages to get a few minutes here and there . . . but I always fall asleep before he does, and he's up and accomplished more before I wake up than I can during the day." She glanced back inside the house, making sure that Nick wasn't back yet. "Yesterday morning, I woke up and he had retiled the entire bathroom in the basement. I know that it was unfinished, but it was a big job. And this morning, I woke up, and he was on the roof, cleaning the gutters. And they weren't even dirty."

"Well figure something out," Warrick told her, then sat back in his chair as he noticed Nick's figure reappearing in the house. "So, we made this man out of jelly, and when Catherine saw us, she wasn't happy. Asking if we knew how much it all cost . . . then proceeded to help us dress the guy and find out what electrocuted him. Turns out, his watch is what did him in. The tires on the jeep would've grounded him, but the metal in his watch was touching the metal of the jeeps frame and he was fried."

"Talking about the case that the three of us had just before Greggo officially became a Level 1?" Nick asked, stepping out on the deck, not having the slightest clue as to what they'd just been talking about . . . . . .

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Laying in the back of the SUV, he felt his body sway violently with the motion of the vehicle. His head pounding with a migraine, a bump on his forehead becoming hot and hard. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his blood boiling. With his hands bound tightly together behind his back, he knew he was in a bad situation. When the noise under the tires changes from the smooth whir of the pavement to the crunchy noise of what sounds like loose gravel, he manuveres himself into an upright position. When the vehicle brakes, then comes to a complete stop, he hears the driver get out of the vehicle and closes the door. Instinctively, he raises his legs - whether to kick the partition that was separating him from the other part of the vehicle, or to kick his assailant, he wasn't sure -- and he wasn't able to find out. Suddenly, a cloth was held over his mouth. In shock, his legs dropped down, but still struggling as best he could . . . but the chloroform did it's job, rendering him unconcious . . .

Bolting up right, sweat pouring down from his forehead, he rans a hand over his exhausted eyes which were begging him to give in. He glanced to Sara to reassure himself that he was back where he belonged - with her. Smiling a little, he took a deep breath, falling back on the pillows. Sleep pulled at his heavy lids, but he refused to give in. Every time he did, he had a dream. A nightmare, actually. Of what had happened. Sometimes it was bits and pieces of what happened. An event or two. Sometimes it was flashes of different things. But no matter what - the outcome was the same. He'd bolt up right in bed, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, sweating profusely.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, pulling the sheets and comforter back across the mattress. He padded his way into the kitchen and reached into the small wine refrigerator which was stocked with his beer. Knowing that she had no reason to go into the wine cooler, because of the pregnancy, he knew it was safe to hide them there. He pulled out a small pill bottle, unscrewing the lid and grabbing two of the pills. He quickly replaced the cap on the bottle before grabbing a can of Coke Zero from the refrigerator and popping the tab. Glancing at the digital clock on the microwave, he noticed the time read 12:23 am.

He swallowed the pills without a second thought before placing his hands on his hips and looking around. What needed to be done now?

TBC . . . .
 
MEG!! that was so good!! so excited for an update. come on nicky, sara's worried about you!!

update sooon!!!! :):)
 
Chapter 25:

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Sara was drawn out of her sleep by the sound of an electric drill down the hall. Her tired eyes were assaulted by the sunlight filtering into the bedroom through the blinds. Blinking a few times, adjusting her sensitive eyes, she glanced at the clock. "7:48," she sighed. She rolled over on to her side, then used her hands to push herself into an upright position. Placing her feet on the hardwood floors, she propelled herself upwards and sleepily made her way out of the master bedroom and down the hall towards the noise.

"Morning," she yawned, stretching her back a bit. Nick looked up at her, clearly startled by her sudden presense, but the smile took over his face.

"Morning sleepy head," he greeted, standing up and placing a kiss on her lips, then bending down and rubbing her belly, placing a kiss above her belly button.

"You've got primer in your hair," she commented quietly, picking at the white specs in his brown hair.

"The window in the nursery is open, so the fumes shouldn't be too bad," he told her, avoiding to look in her eyes. He turned back to the changing table that he was putting together.

"I could've helped with that, you know," she said quietly, easing herself down into the maple rocking chair, pointing to the now put together crib, dresser, and changing table.

"It's not difficult," he told her quickly, wanting to put an end to the conversation that he knew she was trying to start.

"That's not the point," she told him directly.

He sighed, dropping the electric drill onto the cardboard box that had housed the separate pieces for the change table. "It's not a big deal, Sara. It's done."

He walked through the opened door and into the hallway. He turned the knob of the nursery, stepping inside and letting his finger tips brush against the surface, checking to see if wall was dry.

"What do you mean it's not a big deal?" she said, standing up and following him into the nursery. She stopped dead in her tracks. The room already painted in a coat of the soft yellow that they'd agreed on. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

Nick's head snapped towards Sara, the anger in his eyes flashing. "What? I put together the furniture and primed and started to paint in here, and there isn't even so much as a 'thank you'?"

Her shoulders slumped, and tears filled her eyes. "That doesn't answer my question, Nicholas."

"Nicholas?" he repeated. "Since when do you call me Nicholas? Only my parents ever called me Nicholas, and that was only when I was in trouble!" His voice was steadily climbing in volume.

"You ARE in trouble!" she matched his tone, her own voice rising. "You aren't sleeping. It's not good for you."

"Well, you know what, Sara? Things HAVE to get done around here before the baby comes!"

She gasped. The tone of his voice was almost resentful. "Are you upset that I'm pregnant?" she asked him, her posture stiffening.

He looked at her in shock for a moment, realizing how his statement must've sounded. He tone softened. "No. I'm not. I love you and I love our baby, Sara. But things are happening so fast. Everything is changing and there isn't any time!"

She heard the panic in his voice. She stepped forward and gently cupped his face in the palms of her hands. "We have time, Nick. The baby isn't due for a few months. We'll figure it all out by then, OK?"

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

"Nick, we need to talk about this," she told him gently as she dropped her hands from his face, one of her hands finding his. She gently lead them out of the nursery and into the hallway.

He knew what they needed to talk about. He knew he couldn't avoid it forever, but he'd tried. "I can't," he whispered, unable to look her in the eye.

"Why, Nick?" she asked him, just as softly, and not judging him.

"Because I don't want to remember. Because I don't want to tell you. Just . . . because."

Her head dipped down lower so she could look him in the eye. "I want to help you."

"You can't."

"Can I at least try?" she pleaded. "I miss you Nick. When you were gone, all I wanted was for you to come back. And I'm beyond thrilled that you are here. Physically, you're fine. But emotionally? I don't know. We aren't connecting like we used to. I need you to trust me."

Deep down, he knew she was right. "I miss you, too," he admitted softly, a few tears escaping his lids as she pulled him closer to her. "Everything has changed, Sara. It's not what it used to be. We aren't what we used to be."

"Things happen and people change," she said, still holding him in her arms, rocking back and forth. "It doesn't mean that we have to grow apart."

"I don't know what to do to get back to where we were."

"Talk to me," she suggested, slightly pulling back and wiping the stray tears away from his eyes. "Let me in."

"I already told you," he sighed, pulling out of her embrace, the wall building back up. "I can't."

"You're not sleeping," she informed him after a few minutes of silence. "I know you're throwing yourself into these projects so you don't have to sleep. So you don't have to dream about it. I get it. But not dealing with it isn't going to do you any favors. You're exhausted. And you're going to end up hurting yourself."

"Or you and the baby," his voice was cold, but not loud. Almost a harsh whisper. And it was a statement. A matter of fact. Nothing accusatory about it.

She looked down at her hands which had wound themselves together in a tight nervous ball. She forced her hands apart, her left hand reaching over into his lap and taking his right hand. She looked at him for a moment, not saying anything. But when he looked up at her, he knew that she loved him. It was in her eyes. "Maybe," she shrugged. "But I don't believe that you would hurt either of us purposefully. But right now, you're lack of sleep and avoiding the issue is hurting you. And that hurts me. And that hurts us, as a couple and as a soon to be family," she placed his hand on her stomach, smiling slightly when she could see a sparkle in Nick's eye as he felt his son or daughter moving around.

"Active this morning, huh?" he smirked.

She nodded. "Hungry," she stated. "Wants a tomato omlette. What about Daddy?"

"An omlette sounds good," he assured her.

"Good. Why don't you jump in the shower and by the time your done, the omlette's will be ready?"

He nodded his head, then leaned in to give her a soft kiss.

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They sat in silence, eating their omlettes. She tried to pretend that she was reading the Entertainment section of the newspaper, but knew she'd be horribly busted if he asked what was going on in the world of Television, movies, or celebrity life in general. She was skimming the pages, more so to make it appear as though she were actually interested. But rather than actually reading the words, she kept glancing at Nick out of the corner of her eye.

"What're you looking at, Sidle?" he asked not even glancing up to look at her. But the tone of his voice conveyed that he was amused.

"You," she answered, smiling. She closed the entertainment section, then folded it up and placed it in the center of the table. "Thinking about how gorgeous you are. How lucky I am."

He smiled at her, then glanced down at the table, blushing slightly. "It's the other way around. I'm the lucky one. Not many women could be, or would be, as understanding as you are."

"Can I get that in writing?" she joked as she stood up.

He grabbed her hand in mid air, preventing her from picking up any of the dishes that they were finished with. "C'mere," he instructed softly as he pulled her onto his lap. Placing his arms around her waist, hugging her, he rested his head against her shoulder, sighing. "I should've told you this sooner. You deserve to know." He looked up at her curious eyes. "Last night, when I was out front saying goodnight to Greg and Grissom, I pulled Gris aside for a second. I wanted to talk to him about going back to work.

"Are you sure you're ready?" she asked him softly.

He sighed.

Flashback

Nick looked at the passenger side of Grissom's Department issued Denali. The windows were up, and the vehicle was running with the A/C blasting into the vehicle at maximum compacity. The rock music was turned up and aside from being able to hear some of the beats, and make out some of the lyrics, he was convinced Greg couldn't hear them because the rear-view and side-view mirrors were rattling.

"What did you want to talk about?" Grissom asked, as usual, all business. He liked to get straight to the point.

"I want to come back to work."

Grissom's mouth fell open in shock. "Nick, I -"

"I need too," he said, his voice pleading.

"I understand the need to stay busy," he acknowledged, "but it's too soon."

"No, it's not," Nick assured him. "I've thought about it a lot. Do you remember when I told you why I wanted to become a CSI?" Grissom nodded his head. "I wanted to pack heat, be the man. To make you think that I'm good at what I do -"

"And you are," he assured the man in front of him.

"I know," he smiled. "And I don't need your approval, anymore. Because I have my own. But since then, I've re-evaluated why I'm a CSI. I want to make the streets safer for the average person. I want kids to feel safe walking to school. I want to give families closure so they don't have questions hanging over their heads as to where their loved ones are, or why they died. It's not always easy knowing the answer, but at least they can move on and not constantly be wondering." He glanced back at the Denali and saw that Greg was now chatting on his cell phone, not paying attention to them. He then glanced at the door to make sure they weren't being watched, or could be over-heard. He looked Grissom square in the eye. "What happened to me shouldn't have happened. It was wrong. And it would be so easy to just curl up into a ball and not face it. Gris, I've thought about packing my bags and leaving for good."

"What about Sara and the baby?"

"They are the reason why I haven't left. Sometimes I think that Sara would be better off raising our child alone because I feel incapable of taking care of myself, let alone someone else. But I love Sara more than I love my own life. And our baby . . . is our baby. I've always wanted to be a father, and I can't imagine a better mother for my children than her. I want to experience that with her. But more than that, I want to make sure that creeps out there, who wander the streets won't be able to hurt my child. If I leave, how can I protect them?"

Grissom could read between the lines. Nick was in a catch 22. He wanted to leave so he could just create a new life and not face or deal with the pain that haunts him from his past. But his future included a loving partner and a child that he'd always dreamed of. How could he desert that?

He nodded his head. "I look forward to the day when you start back up on the team again Nick. You're irreplaceable. Both you and Sara will have your spots with us just as soon as you two are ready."

"Sara isn't ready," he said quickly. "I don't want her to jeopardize her health or the babys health. And I don't think she wants to come back until after the baby is born anyway."

"I understand," Grissom said. "And I agree. Like you, I don't think she should come back. But I don't think you're ready to come back, either." He knew that Nick was about to fight him. "And besides that, the department requires you to go to counseling. After that, the counsellor will have to give you clearance to go back into the field. I can't just reinstate you, Nick. But I'm more than willing to help the process along. I'll get you all the information that you need, help you decided on a counsellor. But I'm not the one who has the final decision on this."

Nick sighed, looking down and kicking at the paved driveway.

"And you're going to have to talk to Sara about this," he said evenly. He looked over at Nick. "You haven't, have you?"

End flashback

"So," she said quietly, still sitting on his lap, "why didn't you tell me you wanted to go back?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess maybe I thought that you would try and talk me out of it."

"And why is that?" she asked him, once again very quietly.

"I know you've been trying to get me to talk about what happened for a while now, and I know I kept shutting you out. And that I still am. And because of that, you'd probably think that I'm not ready to go back."

"You're right," she acknowledged. "I don't think you're ready. Not yet, anyway." She played with a lock of his brown hair. "What do you want to do?"

"What do you think I should do?" he countered.

She shook her head. "This is about you, Nick. And how you need to deal with this." She knew her words disappointed him. "You're not doing yourself any favors by keeping it bottled up."

He nodded his head slightly. "OK. I'll give it a try."

"You'll go to counselling?" she asked him hopefully, a smile tugging at her lips.

He nodded his head apprehensively at first, then more and more as the decision agreed with him. "Yeah. I'll go."

She smiled broadly as she leaned in and hugged him tightly. "I'll be with you every step of the way. Whatever you need, just tell me, OK?"

He nodded his head in appreciation before lifting his chin and puckering his lips to kiss her sweetly.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Nick reached his hand out and shook the counsellors hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"I was glad to do it," Dr. Drake insisted, smiling politely. "I have immense respect for law enforcement and knowing what you've been through, I'm honored that you chose me to help you through it."

Nick nodded his head, though his teeth ground together. "You know what I've been through?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words, though the doctor didn't seem to pick up on it.

"Oh yes," he nodded his head enthusiastically and then began to explain how he, and the rest of Las Vegas, knew of what had happened because of media coverage. How they were all so terribly upset when he was believed to be dead, and how everyone was joyful when they learned he was alive and well.

"A case like yours is very unique. It presents interesting challenges, but a person of your character should be able to over come and triumph above it. I feel confident, that with my help, you will succeed in your quest."

Nick nodded his head and smiled politely. The man was obviously in this for his own reasons, intent on using Nick's case as a way to move his way up in the counselling world, to gain notoriety. He wasn't actually interested in helping. He was only in this for his own selfish reasons. How could he stick with it and stay with the guy until the department deemed him able to go back to work? It could take months, and Nick already wanted to take the guy out back and give him a Texas sized ass-whoppin'.

"So I understand that the decision to attend counselling was a difficult one?"

Nick nodded his head tensely.

"What was the motivating factor to take the leap of faith?"

"I want to go back to work. And I'm doing it for my family," he answered, not wanting to get into this with a man he already hated. With a man who he felt viewed him as a science experiment. "I'm doing this for Sara," he told the man honestly. And he kept repeating it in his head as a way to affirm that he needed to stick with it. She needed to know that he was getting help. She needed to feel that their lives would gain some normalcy again. She needed to feel safe . . . 'I'm doing this for Sara, I'm doing this for Sara, I'm doing this for Sara . . .' he chanted in his mind, over and over again . . .

TBC . . .
 
Glad he's getting help but I hope the guy isn't a total loser. I know a little about pointless counselors *sighs*
 
awsome chapter meg..can't wait to read more..update soon please.. this is one of my fav post grave danger fics...you rock!!!!!
 
chapter 26:


A month later, Sara busied herself in the kitchen waiting for Nick to call after his appointment with Dr. Drake. Though he had told her that he wasn't really a fan of the doctor, he promised that he would keep going and try and push past the unease that he felt. He'd reasoned that his dislike for the man was because he wasn't trusting knew people easily these days.

There was a low knock on the front door that startled her. She laughed slightly at herself, her hand against her heart as she felt the pounding beneath.

"Who is it?" she called, walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

"It’s Kelly," the voice called back.

"Oh," Sara smiled. "Come on in, the doors open."

When the heavy wooden door opened, the woman stepped inside and out of the bright sunlight. "Hi," she greeted kindly.

"Where are the kids?" Sara asked as she nodded her head for Kelly to follow her back to the kitchen.

"Olivia had a play date and Elliot is at a soccer game with his father," she smiled.

"Ah, so the house is sitting there, empty, no noise and you felt the urge to leave?" Sara smirked. Kelly had fast become a good friend. She lived just down the street from her and Nick, and she'd felt an instant connection with the woman.

"I know," Kelly smiled. "I always say that I want some peace and quiet, and as soon as I get it, I feel the need to find someone to talk to." She wandered over to the cupboard and found herself a drinking glass before opening the fridge and finding herself a cool beverage.

Sara smiled at the sight. She'd never really been a particularly outgoing person and had always found it difficult to forge friendships. But with Kelly, things just sort of fell into place. And she finally felt like she had someone that she could confide in outside of the office. In her line of work, and the hours which she worked, had always made it difficult to create relationships.

"So how're you feeling?" Kelly asked, sitting down at the kitchen table and bringing her feet up to rest on the seat of the chair directly across from her.

Sara eased herself down into another chair at the table and sighed, her hand resting on her lower back. "Sore. Tired."

Kelly smiled. "Tired and sore will last for about another 18 years. Once you're a mother, you can't escape it."

"Oh great," Sara smirked, then laughed a little. She couldn't wait to finally be able to hold her baby in her arms. She was really looking forward to it. Although she believe Kelly, and Catherine, when they told her that motherhood was one of the most rewarding experiences ever, but that it could also be one of the hardest.

"So where's Nick?" she asked, noting the still quiet in the Stokes/Sidle home.

"At his appointment," Sara offered. Nick knew that she needed to confide in someone who was detached from the situation, so that left out all the regular people in their lives: his family and their friends at the lab. Being that he knew she needed to talk to someone, he'd agreed that it was OK for her to talk to Kelly. He trusted her as well, and knew how much it helped Sara to be able to vent. He was slowly starting to realize that his ordeal hadn’t just affected him. On some level, he’d always known that . . . but he was finally able to recognize that while Sara hadn’t been the one taken, and believed dead, she had emotional scars from it as well, and was healing as best she could. He knew that it had taken Sara a long time to get to a point where she could willingly speak about a troublesome issue, and while he wanted desperately to be able to talk to her about it, he just wasn’t ready . . . but he didn’t want her to bottle it all up inside. It wasn’t good. For her or the baby.

"How that going?" Kelly asked as she leaned forward and took a cookie off the plate that was in the center of the table.

Sara shrugged. "He doesn't really say. I keep telling myself that it's just going to take time . . . the healing process is going to be long and slow and as much as I want to help him, he needs to be able to come to terms with this however it works best for him. And if that means he won't tell me until he's ready, then I'm OK with that. At least he's getting help, right? Talking to someone . . . "

Kelly smiled sympathetically at Sara. Though she had never been in Sara shoes and felt confident saying that not many people had been, or ever would be, she could tell how much it hurt Sara that Nick still wasn't able to talk to her about what had happened. She leaned forward and placed her hand on top of Sara's. "He loves you. Anyone who sees the way that he looks at you can tell." Her own husband was a Doctor and saw some horrible sights when he was working as a Trauma doctor, and when he came home, she could tell if something had affected him. Even though she never felt like she'd helped him, he'd assured her that her just being there had been the best medicine he could've asked for. "You're love is going to get him through this."

Sara swallowed the tears that were threatening to build up as she forced a smile and nodded. "I hope so."

The loud shrill noise of a child screaming caused Kelly to groan and Sara to laugh.

"Sounds like Liv is back from her play date," Kelly said, standing up and taking her glass over to the sink. "I guess I have to go back home and be mom again."

Sara smiled at the woman. "You're lucky you know that?" She stood up. "You've got a wonderful husband and two healthy children . . ."

"Nick's a pretty great guy, too . . . " Kelly smiled. "And if Mark looked like him, well, I'd never let him leave . . ."

Sara's laugh lit up her face as she walked Kelly to the door.

After closing the door behind Kelly, the smile disappeared off Sara's face. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on that Nick wasn't telling her about. She hadn't said a word to anyone about it because she didn't even know what it could possibly be . . . she glanced at her watch. "What's keeping you, Nick?"

As if on cue, the phone rang. She wandered back to the kitchen and picked the cordless phone off the cradle. "Hello?"

"Hey gorgeous," Nick greeted. She could tell that he was smiling just from the tone of his voice.

"Hey sexy," she smiled back. "You're in a great mood."

"Guess who I ran into?"

"Who?" she asked.

"Kenny."

"Kenny?" she asked . . . she remembered the name, but she couldn't figure out from where or why . . .

"Kenny," he reaffirmed. "He's my old Rebel baseball buddy."

"Oh," she sighed, remembering it clearly now. "Kenny." Kenny had been the one that Nick had mentioned the term Murder Central too, and it had ended up comprimising the case. She met the guy once a few months after the incident and did not like him at all. There was something off about him, and Nick knew that she did not like spending time with the guy . . .

"He's in town for the night, so we thought we'd grab a beer and catch up. Is that OK with you?"

Sara laughed a little. "Nick, it's fine."

"Are you sure? I won't if you don't want me too . . . you haven't started dinner yet, have you? If you have, I'll just come home . . ."

"No, Nick," she smiled. "I haven't started dinner yet. You and Kenny have fun, OK? But not too much,” she warned playfully, rolling her eyes at herself.

"I won't," he assured. "I have the most beautiful woman in the world to come home too. But Kenny, on the other hand . . . well, he's still on the prowl."

Sara chuckled. Yeah, she'd pegged him as a skirt chaser, too . . . "I won't wait up, OK?"

"Thanks, Babe. I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too," she smiled. "Bye."

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Nick hit the end button his cell phone, then stared at the power button. He contemplated for a second before hitting it, turning the technology off.

Motioning to the waitress, she came around and set another beer glass down the table. "Just add it to my tab," he instructed dully. He felt guilty for lying. Lying that he was with Kenny, lying about how the appointments were going. He’d been vague, but still, he knew it was out right lying . . . but he just couldn't face it. Not tonight. He had failed. Feeling the little object that bounced loosely in his jeans pocket, he felt as though the jewel was mocking him for all that he was loosing, and would never get back. Dr. Drake was a quack and he didn't see how speaking with the man would enable him to deal with what he'd been through . . . but how could he tell Sara that he wasn't the man that she thought he was? That he wasn’t as strong as she believed him to be . . . He couldn't bare to see the disappointment in her eyes . . .

So, he guzzled the glass of beer, then slammed the mug down on the table with a loud clang, though the noise was disguised by the loud chatter and TVs in the sports lounge. "Waitress!" he called, motioning to his empty mug that sat next to three others . . .

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The phone rang again as she dug around in the refrigerator, looking for some left overs to heat up and have for dinner.

She grabbed the phone off the counter and answered it distractedly as she continued on her search. "Hello?"

"Hi," Catherine's happy voice greeted her.

"Oh, hey, Cath," Sara responded. "What's up?"

"Well, Warrick and I both are lucky enough to have the night off and thought we'd see if you and Nicky wanted to go out for a bite?"

"That's sweet," she smiled, "but Nick just called a little while ago. Kenny is in town for the night, and they bumped into each other. He called to say they were going out to catch up."

"Oh," Catherine answered, glancing at Warrick. "Well, that's OK. Our invitation extends to you, even without Nick."

She stopped her search of the fridge, shutting the door, convinced that nothing in it was tempting. "I think I might just take you up on that. Where should I meet you guys?"

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Sara bobbed and weaved her way through the crowded Buffet restaurant inside the Casino, smiling broadly at her friends as she approached the table, noticing another dining companion. “Hey,” she greeted them. “I didn’t know you were coming Greg.”

“Neither did I,” he shrugged, taking a sip of water.

“Sorry?” Sara questioned, glancing from Greg to Warrick and Catherine.

“Grissom called,” Warrick supplied. “He wanted to talk to us all. I told him that you were on your way here to meet us, so he and Greg are on ‘official’ team business tonight by joining us.”

She nodded her head. “OK . . .” she wasn’t really sure what to think. “Have either of you called Nick?” Everyone shook their heads no. “I’ll call,” she started to dial, but Catherine’s hand reached out and gently stopped her from completing the call. “What’s going on?”

“He asked us to not call Nick,” Warrick admitted quietly.

Sara dropped her cell phone onto the hard table top, and leaned back in the booth. “Why?”

Grissom breezed up to the table, taking a seat. “Sorry to keep you all waiting.”

Sara narrowed her eyes at Grissom, feeling like she was betraying Nick. “Why are we having a team meeting without Nick?”

Grissom rubbed his eyes. “Technically, at this point, he’s not a member of the team.”

“Neither am I,” she said, angered that Grissom would have a meeting behind Nick’s back. A part of her knew that there had to be a logical explanation. But the loyalty she felt to Nick made her want to get up and leave the table.

Grissom sighed. “Look, this isn’t exactly about the team, Sara. It’s about Nick. I could get into a lot of trouble for this.”

”For what?” Catherine sat straight up. “Gil, what’s going on?”

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke softly towards Sara. “I probably should’ve just spoken with Nick about this, but since I feel that would be useless, I probably should’ve just come to speak with you, but –“

Her voice was even and controlled, but low enough where it was clear that if he didn’t just come out and say it, she was going to loose her patience. “Stop beating around the bush.”

“I feel that you will need support, and help figuring out what to do about this. What we have to do about this.”

“Gris!” Warrick prompted.

“I’ve been waiting for Dr. Drake’s decision on whether or not Nick can come back to work, and –“

“Woah,” Sara cut him off. She took a deep breath. “Nick loves us all, but I know that he wouldn’t want everyone to hear this. This is extremely emotional territory.”

“I know,” Grissom told her. “And that is why I would’ve just come to you about this . . . but like I was saying, I was waiting for Dr. Drake’s decision, and it should’ve been on my desk a couple of days ago . . . it never came. So I put a call in to him to see if there was some sort of delay with the paperwork. He was confused and when I asked him if Nick had completed the six sessions the lab requires him to before he comes back to work –“

“Which he has,” Sara said. “Nick told me.”

“Dr. Drake said that he hasn’t seen Nick since he completed the first session, Sara.”

Cath, Warrick and Greg looked at one another, stunned, before turning their attention to a shocked Sara.

She shook her head. “No, he said he’s been going. There must be some sort of mix up. Maybe there are two Dr. Drakes?”

Grissom sighed. “No, Sara, there is no mix up.”

She shook her head violently, tears springing to her eyes. “No, this has to be wrong. There has to be some kind of mistake.” She leaned forward, her head in her hands as her elbows rested on the table. A few tears escaped her eyes. “Why would he lie to me?”

No one had the answer. And they weren’t sure that Nick would really have an answer either. It wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t really thinking things completely through these days. He was acting more on impulse and the desire to feel safe and secure – even if that meant he would prolong his own emotional anguish.

Catherine stood up and walked around Gil’s chair to Sara’s side of the booth. She extended her hand to the woman. “C’mon,” she nodded her head, helping Sara out of the booth. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

“Cath, you don’t have to baby me,” Sara stuttered, trying to get control of her emotions.

“I’m not babying you,” she insisted. “But I am going to make sure that you calm down. Right now, we don’t have the answers, but you need to relax for both you and the baby.”

“You’re right,” Sara conceded, allowing Catherine to guide them towards the bathrooms. “I guess I do have to pee, anyway.”

Catherine smirked. Oh, the joys of pregnancy.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

“What do you guys think Nick’s been doing when he was supposed to be at his sessions?” Greg asked.

Warrick shrugged. “Hopefully not getting himself into trouble.” Vegas was full of temptation, and even for someone who was used to resisting, it could pretty difficult to turn away when you needed a distraction. From gambling, to booze, to sex, to anything one could possibly want, it was all available – all one had to do was ask.

“The real question is what does Nick need of us to help him through this?” Grissom posed.

“No,” Greg argued, shaking his head, “the real question is will he let us help him?”

Warrick let out a low whistle and gently shook his head, his attention focused at a black jack table which sat next to a row of noisy slot machines.

“What?” Grissom turned his attention to look in the same direction. “Oh, Nicky . . .”

The Texan sat at the black jack table, throwing down money and picking up cards, ordering the dealer to ‘hit me’ . . . and any time one of the bar maids came around with a tray of complimentary drinks for the gamblers, he grabbed whatever it was they were offering, knocking it back like a pro.

“Oh, don’t look now, but here come the girls,” Greg announced quietly, seeing the girls leaving the ladies restroom.

“This could get ugly,” Warrick commented.

“Maybe I should leave – get Nick. Sara probably needs some time to get her thoughts in order before she talks to him about this . . .”

”And that’s probably a discussion that they should have in private,” Grissom acknowledged.

Greg nodded. “Alright, I’ll say a quick goodnight then, I’ll get Nick outta here.”

“So, what’ve you boys been talking about in our absence?” Catherine smiled, batting her eyelashes towards the men, then break out into a fit of giggles. Upon the strange looks she received from them, she sat back a bit. “What? I’ve had one margarita. It’s my night off. Am I not allowed to have a little fun? Even if it does make me a little odd?”

The men all chuckled nervously.

The shrill sound of an elderly lady screaming in excitement caught nearly everyone’s attention as they turned to look at the slot machines. The red light above her was going off, signifying that she’d won a substantial amount of money, and many on lookers had gathered closer to her, smiling in awe.

Sara smiled, “the casino will have all that money back by morning,” she shook her head. Just as she was about to bring her attention back to her friends, a man in the crowd gathered around the elderly lady moved and Sara caught sight of Nick, who was unaffected by the excitement going on around him.

Without so much as saying a word to her friends, her legs took on a mind of their own as she stalked towards the man that she loved, the man that had been lying to her, for some answers.

TBC . . .
 
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