Summary: It had been almost a year since she had had a cup of coffee.
Prompt: I had three prompts, but the only one I used was Zabar's blend coffee.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The privilege goes to Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuicker and some other important people that are not me.
A/N: This was my entry for the Geekfiction Food Fight Ficathon on livejournal. Just a small little something :) I have absolutely no clue where I got angst from coffee, maybe sleep deprivation. But I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!
It had been almost a year since she had had a cup of coffee.
Despite all the temptations, despite all the chances that had presented themselves, despite her mornings eating biscotti for breakfast with orange juice when she knew perfectly well that it would've tasted much better with just one steaming cup, she resisted.
And this surprised her. Sara wasn't the type of woman to say no to her temptations. It certainly hadn't stopped her with going after him.
Generally, when someone would be tempted by something like one more cookie, their stomach would send a message to the rational part of their brain, saying, "Stop, you've had enough." But for Sara, when it came to temptations, especially Gil Grissom, that part of her brain appeared non-existent. Instead of saying, "Stop following him through the lab" or "Stop trying to stick your hand down the fly of his pants", it always seemed to yell, "Yes! Just go for it!"
And yet, she had not succumbed to the temptation of just having that one cup. She decided it was because she had formed a habit of drinking herbal tea instead of coffee. He had told her that it was much better for her; he saw her walking around in the kitchen one morning in his townhouse, hair tousled, one strap of her tank top hanging off of her shoulder, just enough for him to see how thin she really was, as she nestled a steaming mug to her lips.
That had been one of their first fights. He had snatched the mug from her, telling her that she needed something more than just a cup of coffee for breakfast. He told her that she was too thin and wasn't eating or sleeping enough, that if their relationship was going to work, she was going to have to learn how to start taking care of herself. She had yelled at him, saying that she was damn fine the way she was and if he hadn't cared enough to notice it in the eight years they had been together, why should he care now?
It ended with them both sitting on the couch that night after shift, cuddling up under a warm blanket while they watched a documentary on the History Channel. She could never stay mad at him; no matter how hard she tried, she could never seem to stay angry with him very long. That night he put the kettle on and fixed her a warm cup of herbal tea with a spoonful of honey in it, and she still couldn't get over how his face lit up in happiness when she had finally taken a sip.
From then on, she only drank tea, no coffee, no exceptions. She had done it because it made him happy. He was constantly going on about the health benefits of tea, its natural antioxidants and significantly lower caffeine content, and she just listened, sitting on the couch with him, nodding her head as she took small sips. She was happy because he was happy, and that was all there was to it.
So when she left Las Vegas and left him behind, she decided that she didn't have to follow any of his rules anymore, not as long as they weren't even in the same state. The first night she was back in San Francisco, she went to the first coffee shop she saw and was determined to order the strongest cup of coffee on their menu, from a brand named Zabar's. But as she stood in front of the counter, looking over the list of menu items, she remembered how happy he had looked when she had taken that first sip of tea. She remembered how just the sheer display of happiness from such a silly action had made her burst into series of giggles. She remembered how warm his arms were when they would sit on the couch at night, curled up in a blanket as they watched a movie.
She had left the coffee shop in a rush and instead ran across the street to a grocery store. That night, she went home with a package of herbal tea and a small jar of honey, and she had spent the night on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a full pot of it on the coffee table as she watched TV.
She had left Vegas to let the memories of her past die.
But old habits died harder.