Worth Every Mile
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sara/Warrick
Spoilers: Everything up to Grissom versus the Volcano, just to be on the safe side.
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site Checkmate , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.
Summary: Warrick looks back on his relationship with Sara.
Notes: For the LiveJournal Writer’s Choice “Love, Loyalty, Friendship” challenge – I got them all in there!
You’re up eleven g’s. Hit or stay?
Stay. I want to talk to you.
To say they
didn’t get along when first they met would be to understate the matter quite a
bit. He was defensive, she was inquisitorial, and Holly Gribbs was dead. Her
job, she said, was to investigate him, so it had hardly been the most
auspicious of beginnings to their relationship.
Grissom gets you to
dime yourself off and now you both feel better? You're supposed to be in court.
Instead, you're placing bets for a cheap thrill to satisfy nothing.
Hey! This has nothing
to do with you.
She didn’t
trust him for a long time, and just as things were beginning to get better, he
blew off work to go to the
We're supposed to be
working together. Next time, just try talking to me instead of going around
behind my back.
Neither like remembering that, but he knows that that was a watershed in their relationship, that they never looked back. Not that they were friends immediately, but an understanding was reached, a trust had been formed, a certain brand of loyalty. They were colleagues, respectful of one another, enjoyed working together, looked out for one another.
We're a team. The only
place we're going is back down to that crime scene."
They would tease one another.
Meet me behind CSI and
bring a cotton nightgown. I'd wear it for you but I prefer pajamas.
This where the limbo
party is?
They
covered for one another.
I would've looked like
an idiot. Thanks for covering.
Well, you can show
your appreciation by, uh, cleaning up.
What began
as collegial loyalty and banter grew into friendship, her confiding in him and
him alone about her not-date with her not-boyfriend, a confidence he didn’t
realise was a confidence until it was too late. He apologised, and he never did
it again, kept his mouth shut when she slipped and called said boyfriend “baby”
at a crime scene, only teasing her about him when no-one else was around.
Your knucklehead
boyfriend never took you on the party circuit?
They were
friendly enough that he was sure their past was behind them, and when she
confirmed as much to him, standing in a casino, looking at a bean counter, he
was surprised to learn how much it meant.
You know, the more I
see of this kind of stuff the less I picture you a gambler.
First loyal
colleagues, then friends, but that’s all they were for a long time. The change
between them happened slowly, so slowly that neither noticed it, were taken by
surprise when they did.
She loved my music. I loved her smile.
Those were
words spoken by a victim’s husband, and at the time, neither Warrick nor Sara
had taken any particular notice of them, imbued them with any particular
meaning. They were just words, that was all.
But that
was the first time that she heard him play, the first time that she even realised
that he could. It was nothing major, just fooling around, because he never
could resist a piano, but she’d asked him about it on the way back to the lab,
and he’d told her about how his Grams had made him learn, how she’d thought
that it would teach him discipline. That had amused Sara hugely, had made her
laugh, but she’d continued questioning him, and he’d admitted to her that he
wrote music, had promised that one day, he’d let her hear some of it.
That day had
come a few months later, when they were once more working a case together, and
she suggested coming in early for the next shift. He had to tell her that he
couldn’t, that he’d promised a friend of his that he’d do a set at his club,
and it was too late to cancel. He wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone else
but Sara, and it was only when he saw her eyes light up, saw a smile cross her
face that he knew what the next words out of her mouth were going to be.
He couldn’t
talk her out of it, so he did the next best thing; got his buddy to secure her
a table right beside the stage, because there was no way he was going to listen
to her complaining, even good-naturedly, that she had a lousy seat. That also
meant though, that when he looked down into the audience, her face, her smile,
was the first thing that he saw.
That night,
on their own in the lab, she told him that she loved
his music.
That night,
he didn’t tell her that he loved her smile.
That came
later, after he’d taken her out for breakfast to say thank you for the good
review, when it had started becoming a regular occurrence. When breakfasts had
turned to dinners, had turned to them spending almost all of their off time
together, when they’d been the subject of lab gossip for weeks.
It took him
two months for him to kiss her for the first time, then two days for them to
spend their first night together.
Two days
after that, he told her he loved her smile.
Two weeks
after that, he told her he loved her.
That night,
she told him she loved him too.
And now
they are here, standing at the altar in front of their families and friends,
promising each other love and loyalty and friendship until death do them part.
It’s been a
long road here, but it was worth every mile.