Title: Look For Me, I Will Be Home Then
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas
Theme: #4 - Our distance and that person
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Las Vegas or any of the characters from it. I'm just borrowing them and will return them intact to their rightful owners when I'm done, promise.
Notes: Written for 30_kisses on LiveJournal. I started this sometime last year, sometime before the end of season ten, and am just finishing it now.
Sara always sent him letters – or sometimes postcards, or scribbles on a napkin slapped in an envelope – "I love you, I miss you, and I'll be home soon" – and he kept them tucked away in a desk drawer. It was a rare day when there wasn't one or two waiting for him in his mailbox.
She had flown to Paris to tell Grissom that it wasn't working out anymore – that the distance between them was too much, that it had put an irreparable strain on their marriage. And she'd promised Nick that she would come home once she was done, and they could see where this thing between them was headed.
That was two months ago.
She still wasn't home.
One morning, he received a phone call from her hotel.
"I'm coming home," she said, and Nick thought she sounded tired, "I have a ticket for tomorrow morning. I have to go."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He heard the call disconnect, and then he realized he hadn't even asked her for her flight information.
Maybe she didn't want him to know. Maybe it didn't matter.
She left him a message while he was at work – "I'm in the airport, about to board my plane. I'll call you when I land" – and when he listened to it, when he got the chance, he only regretted not being there when she called.
The news played the story of a plane with engine problems. The news played the story of a plane crashing over the Atlantic. The news - he woke up with a start, realizing that the vivid, lurid details of these news reports were merely figments of his own overactive imagination.
He rolled back over and fell asleep, and no more dreams came to him now.
She called him when he was in the shower - "My flight's landed, I'll get a taxi home. See you soon."
He went out and bought her a bouquet of daisies to welcome her home with.
He laid on the couch and watched something - anything but the news, considering his series of dreams - flicking through the channels from time to time. His thoughts were a thousand miles away, it seemed; he couldn't focus on the show, only on the anticipation he felt.
And then he heard a key turn in the door, and he stood and turned to face her. Sara opened the door and walked in, throwing her suitcase to the floor and wordlessly embracing him, burying her head into his chest. "We don't need a laugh track in the background," he said, clicking the off button on the remote and pulling her close, feeling her close to him for the first time in so long - too long.
She looked up at him and he could see conflicting emotions warring in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I missed you," she said quietly, her eyes darting downward. "I don't want to be apart that long again."
"You won't have to be," he said, stroking the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "You're home now." He leaned down and kissed her - kissed her the way he had been thinking about for a while, and he felt her suck in a breath, as though she hadn't been anticipating it, before she began to move her mouth against his and any doubts he had dissipated as soon as he felt her tongue slide against his lower lip.
They pulled apart after a moment and pressed their foreheads together, and he saw that her eyes were now sparkling. "You know, I'm really tired from traveling," she said, stretching her arms above her head and winking. "So put those daisies in water - they're beautiful, by the way - and -"
He was looking a vase before she could complete her sentence.