Title: Serving a Purpose

Fandom: CSI

Pairing: Warrick/Sara

Rating: PG

Word Count: 909

Prompt: 20 Colourless

She’s not the usual kind of woman that’s found in a bar like this, which is what makes Jake look at her keenly. Their usual clientele is somewhat less than savoury, the women favouring heavy makeup, tops that show a lot of cleavage, skirts that show a lot of leg, reeking of cheap perfume or, sometimes at least, someone else’s cheap cologne. This woman, however, is dressed in blue jeans and a red blouse, black tank top just peeking out from underneath. She’s not wearing any makeup, her shoes are sensible rather than killer stilettos, and her loose hair doesn’t look like it’s seen a brush any time in the last twelve hours.

But it’s not just her appearance that marks her out as lost, not wanting to be found.

The women who come in here usually order beer, drink it quickly, returning for more at once.

This woman ordered a shot of vodka. Neat.

Which made him raise an eyebrow, but then again, the customer is always right. So he poured her a shot, set it down in front of her, and she smiled a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes and thanked him. He expected her to down the shot in one, but she didn’t so much as reach for it, just crossed her arms on the bar and stared at it, as if expecting it to attack her.

The glass of colourless liquid still sits in front of her, a full half hour after he served her, and she still shows no sign of touching it.

Like he said, she’s not their usual breed of clientele.

He’s keeping his eye on her, and he positions himself slightly closer when a guy comes up and joins her. He’s not exactly the kind of guy that comes in here regularly either; tall and dark-skinned, well built and well dressed, he stands in the doorway, and when he sees the woman, he makes a bee line right for her, sits down beside her.

Jake’s ready to step in if he starts harassing the woman, but she looks up at him with a faint smile of recognition when he speaks. “Sara, don’t do this…”

The plea is low-spoken, but straight from the heart, and Jake moves a little closer, the better to eavesdrop. He makes a mental bet that this is some kind of domestic dispute, and aside from the fact that he wants to know what Sara’s deal is – he’s run a lot of notions through his head in the last half hour – he also knows that domestic disputes have a way of getting loud and nasty in this bar.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Sara says, and if the other man looks sceptical, Jake knows that’s the honest truth. “Ask the bartender if you don’t believe me.” Two gazes swing his way, and Jake busies himself by becoming very interested in the glasses that he’s drying.

“You bought a drink.” The words are clipped, bitten off as if he can’t trust himself not to say more, and Jake’s suddenly got a lot more of an idea as to what’s going on between them.

“And didn’t drink it.” Sara sounds very tired, and when Jake chances a glance up, her arms aren’t crossed on the bar anymore, but propped up on it, her hands running through her hair.

Her companion doesn’t seem to be in a mood to let things lie. “Would you have? If I hadn’t got here?”

Sara lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know Warrick… I don’t know.”

She sounds utterly defeated, and Warrick lets out a sigh that matches hers. “There was nothing you could have done differently,” he tells her. “You know that, right?”

Sara nods, but her next words contradict her gesture. “He was just a kid Warrick… who could have…”

“It’s over Sara…” The words, while harsh sounding, are accompanied by an arm sliding across her shoulders, and she goes willingly, falling into his embrace. “It’s over,” he whispers again, so quietly that Jake has to strain to hear him.

They stay like that for a long moment, and then Sara straightens up, rubs at her face. “I know that… and I know we got the big bad wolf… I just… I needed…” She shakes her head, looks up at the ceiling, and Jake can see the tears that stand in her eyes. “I wanted a drink so badly…”

“But you didn’t.” Warrick tilts his head at the still full colourless glass on the table. “And you wouldn’t have.”

It’s not what he seemed to think mere minutes ago, and if Jake finds this about turn peculiar, so too does Sara. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Warrick says, as surely as if he’s telling her that the sky is blue. “I do.” He leans forward then, takes her face in his hands and kisses her hard on the mouth. When he pulls back, he smiles a slow smile, pulling her to her feet and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Let me take you home,” he says, and the smile that Sara gives him in return could light up a city.

She doesn’t speak, just nods, and the two of them walk out the door without a backward glance, the glass of colourless liquid left forgotten on the bar behind them.

Jake wastes no time in tipping it down the sink. Something tells him that it’s already served its purpose.