Rating: PG
Pairing: Sara/Warrick
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site Checkmate (http://helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.
Notes: For the LiveJournal CSI100 "Sara Evans" challenge - a seven drabble series

Even for Vegas, there's an inordinate amount of red around; lot of couples walking along the Strip, checking out wedding chapels. It can only mean one thing, and Catherine knows it, looking enviously at Sara. "I'm jealous of people who are in love on Valentine's," she notes. "I suppose Warrick has something planned for the two of you?"

"A morning in, then dinner before shift," Sara confirms, adding off Catherine's glare, "Hey, don't look at me like that…you're the one who played Cupid for us."

Catherine smiles. "One of my better ideas."

Sara rolls her eyes, but she's smiling too.

>*<*>*<

Nick's used to Warrick coming to work with a smile on his face; he's been like that ever since Catherine first fixed him and Sara up. But he's never acted like this before; still happy, but jittery, nervous.

Nick's passed his hundredth Cupid before it hits him, and he stops in his tracks, staring at Warrick. "You're going to propose to Sara."

Warrick's eyes flare momentarily in surprise, then his hands go on his hips and he nods. "Yep. Tonight."

"On Valentine's Day? Man, that's corny."

A shrug, tiny smile. "Long as she says yes."

Nick nods, confident. "She will."

>*<*>*<

Warrick never expected to be this nervous. He's been planning this for weeks, months even. He's talked to Grams, she gave him her engagement ring; he knows exactly what he's going to say.

But sitting in the restaurant with Sara, all his words go out of his head.

She notices, asks him with a worried smile, "Are you ok?"

He knows it's time to bite the bullet, so he pulls the box out of his pocket, resting it, unopened, on the table between them. "I have something to ask you," he begins, but that's as far as he gets.

"Yes."

>*<*>*<

She didn't know his plan, but the second she sees the box, she knows why he's been acting so odd lately.

Her rapid answer surprises them both, and there's a moment's silence before they both laugh, and he reaches over, taking her hand in his. "Sara Sidle," he says. "Will you marry me?"

She nods as he slides the ring on her finger, because she can't speak. "What do we do now?" she finally asks, and he tilts his head towards the dance floor.

"Let's dance."

Her head on his shoulder, eyes on her ring, they dance the night away.

>*<*>*<

As he holds her in his arms, Warrick is reminded of another time that they danced like this, her head on his shoulder, her eyes on a brand new ring on her finger. But today she's wearing white, and all eyes are on them.

"Are you ok?" he asks her, a little worried, because he knows that she's been nervous all day, and he also knows that the small wedding they'd agreed on might not necessarily be every bride's dream.

But Sara smiles up at him, and all his worries disappear. "It's perfect," she replies, and they go on dancing.

>*<*>*<

Grams doesn't think it's odd when Warrick and Sara come to visit; they come by every week. Nor does she think it's strange when Warrick vanishes up to the attic; he does that a lot too.

She only realises what's going on when the thumps upstairs are too much to ignore, and she and Sara go to investigate. Her eyes grow wide when she sees Warrick staring at the old rocking horse that all her children played on.

"Coat of paint, it'll be good as new," he tells Sara, and that's when Grams smiles, as her dearest wish is realised.

>*<*>*<

Catherine can't remember a time when she's seen four more frazzled people in the CSI break room, and not even Greg Sanders's famed coffee can help. Sara's been on leave for the last month, Warrick is currently parts unknown, and none of the cases are going well.

It's four thirty in the morning and she just wants to go home, and that's when her phone rings.

She listens, her shout of delight silencing the room, as Greg, Nick and Grissom all look at her sharply.

"It's Warrick," she announces. "It's a girl."

The three men grin too, everything else forgotten.

>*<*>*<

There's a tired smile on Sara's face as the door closes behind the last of her visitors, Grams having finally been persuaded to leave her great-granddaughter for the night. Warrick makes himself comfortable on the bed beside her, his arm around her shoulders, and they look down at the baby in her arms, the little girl with dark hair and her daddy's eyes.

Sara rests her head against Warrick's shoulders, feels him kiss the top of her head, hears him ask, "Can I get you anything?"

She turns her face up to him, beaming. "I could not ask for more."

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