DISCLAIMER: CSI is the property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Life is Sweet
By L.
ONE
When Sara finally did come out, she did it with a shout and definitely not a whimper.
But that was much later.
When I first started working here, it only took me a couple of days to realize two things:
One: there are only two people working here who's smarter than me
Two: she has a major crush on him
There's also Catherine Willows who's an avid fan of that particular soap. She's yet to miss an episode.
I haven't quite figured that one out yet, but I'm getting there.
There's this thing with brains people -- we stick out like a sore thumb. And kind of stick together as well. So no one was really surprised when Sara and I drifted towards each other and became friends.
She stopped drinking, and started eating and running again. The result was a much more relaxed and content Sara, with a delightful new soft roundness to prove it. We worked out, had dinner almost every night, and talked. We talked a lot. With some coaxing, I got her to tell me all and everything about her and Grissom, or rather all of nothing that was her and Grissom. When I realized how much of her dreams and hopes she'd placed in that man, I cried. And she cried too, and then we laughed.
She's over him now, but that is five years, a DUI, AA, four discarded company shrinks, and a meltdown later.
When Sara does something, she does it properly.
And then that case with the Russian women happened. With Sara and Catherine fighting like never before happened. With Sara being subsequently put on leave happened.
It took me two days to make her answer the phone, three days to get her to open the door, and four to let me in.
She opens her door wide and waves me in. She has a cordless phone pressed to her shoulder since she is simultaneously whipping something up in a bowl.
Whipping something up in a bowl?
I let myself in and try carefully not to listen.
- You kicked open my world and...
She squeezes her eyes shut and concentrates real hard.
- When you finally yanked it out...
She's interrupted and her eyes fly open.
- What I wanted wasn't really what I wanted...
She listens with a mouth like a thin red line, her eyes growing darker.
- How can you claim to know me when you havve other things to occupy your time?!
Furious whipping. Someone on the other end is seriously pissing her off.
- This is all I think about.
She is paying attention now. Close attention for a long, long while. Several minutes pass.
- I'm not listening to this.
She snaps the phone shut and turns and roars to the kitchen.
- I'm baking.
- Ok.
- You want some coffee?
- Was that Grissom?
Her back is turned but I can see her mind working. That taut back is somehow more vocal than usual.
- No, no. Catherine.
- Catherine?
- Yeah... She was here a couple of days ago. She's been calling ever since.
- So... You told her?
- Yeah. Yeah, I did.
- Wow.
- She just couldn't let it go.
TWO
She puts her sunglasses on top of her head and tries to adjust her eyes to the light inside. I wave her over. We're meeting for after work breakfast at our usual diner, in our usual booth, having the usual.
There's something unusual with Sara though.
Not the clothes. No, I've seen that shirt before, and the jeans with those boots are her favorites. The hair's the same; her smile when she sees me is the same.
Who cares? She looks fine. She looks mighty fine.
- Hey.
- Hey.
Sara looks up and smiles when Barbara the waitress brings our coffee and bagels over. She is also stretching her long legs out while she's pushing some of her hair from her eyes. Barbara backs away.
I swear to god, the girl backs all the way to the counter.
- God, Sidle. You're such a lesbian.
- Why do you say that?
- You've been flirting with that poor girl since day one. And you KNOW she can't keep her eyes of you.
She shakes her head and laughs. We've been kidding about this for weeks.
- Funny, though. Catherine said something to that effect earlier today too.
- Must be the boots.
- Probably.
We haven't really discussed Catherine. Mainly because Sara says there's nothing to discuss, but also because their mutual discomfort doesn't really need any dissecting.
- She had me testing for urine in the largest diapers I've ever seen.
- Sofia told me earlier.
- How's that going?
- We're cool. I wished her luck.
THREE
Sara was that girl you tripped down the stairs. You kicked away her books. She ate her lunch alone and suffered leers and jeers and stares.
At least she did, until I came around.
Funny what a friendly face can do.
Now, she oozes of confidence and Nicky says she's like the old Sara. Meaning she's actually smiling and joking around. Albeit strangely. Even Sofia has picked up on it and is circling around trying to get in on whatever it is we're doing.
- So, you and Sidle huh?
- What's that supposed to mean?
She throws a look around her, and when she's certain we're alone, she continues.
- Well, it's no secret what you're trying to achieve.
She actually smirks.
- What would that be?
- To boldly go where no Grissom's ever gone?
- Been there, done that. And take your mind out of the gutter girl, we're just friends.
- Really?
- Really.
- So then you wouldn't mind if I ask her out, would you?
There's no way I can answer that so I just keep my mouth shut.
- All right then, I think maybe I will.
She saunters out. God damn it.
Ok, I'm gutless, spineless really, but I think it's time I change that.
- Sidle.
- Hey, it's me.
- Hi, Mia.
- Hi. You know I was thinking.
- Yeah?
- You wanna go out with me later?
- Sure. Catch a movie?
- No, I was thinking dinner.
- Ok.
- As in dinner-dinner.
- Oh.
Great, just great: two pieces of furniture making dinner plans.
- You ok with that?
- Yeah, I guess.
- So what do you think?
- Ok.
- Ok?
- Yeah, why not?
- So, it's a date, Sidle.
- Cool.
FOUR
We kind of eased into each other after that.
I felt like a huge security blanket, wrapping Sara up, giving her all the love and comfort she could handle.
And she could handle a lot, so the sex was fabulous.
Once we got over awkward, nervous, stiff, and scared it was fabulous.
For being such a lesbian, she actually wasn't. Before, that is.
Besides that, we didn't stray much from where we've been before we became lovers. Sara wanted to keep it that way. Private life kept private and all that. And I didn't object. As long as it was me she was going home with, I couldn't care less of what people at the lab knew.
- I used to have these dreams you know, nightmares.
I hear her voice from the break room, and slow down.
- But now I dream I'm alive.
She is standing with her back against the door, making coffee while on the phone.
- Yeah... I will... Thanks.
She's turning around and realizes I'm watching her.
Huge grin and something else that I've learnt means that if we weren't at work she'd kiss me.
Mind you, I'm starting to care less and less about the at work part.
- Your sponsor?
- Nah, Catherine. You want some coffee?
- Please.
Her fingers linger on mine when she hands me the cup, and those eyes will be the death of me.
- Still on for some Szechuan Marxism tonight?
- Brecht was not a Marxist.
- If you say so. But we're on, right?
- Of course. If you're "a good person".
- I'm good.
- That you are.
And I so want to kiss her right now.
FIVE
She just doesn't realize that by keeping us secret, she's opening herself up for all kinds of speculation and interest.
But I can wait. Indefinitely if I have to. I'm so in love with her it scares me to death, and if I only get to be with her in the closet it is still so much better than the alternative; not being with her at all.
I've been in my lab all night and I haven't seen her since last shift. I venture towards the break room for some coffee and maybe a glimpse of her.
And she is there all right. She's leaning over the table looking at some spread out photos, with Catherine standing right next to her. With Catherine's hand in the small of her back. With Catherine's leg glued to hers.
They're laughing.
Catherine leans even closer.
- You hear that sound, Sara?
She whispers, but I can hear her just fine.
- No, what?
- That's the sick sound of us clicking.
I clear my voice and don't miss the look that passes over Catherine's face when she takes a step away. Sara just smiles though, and does her little finger wave.
- You have a minute?
- Sure. See you later, Cath.
They both smile. Sara's eyes still glittering with remains of laughter.
I walk to the locker room. I need to be able to shut a door for this conversation.
Sara's smile thins out as I slam the door.
- What are you doing?
- What are YOU doing?
Great, I'm five again.
- I saw you and Catherine in there.
- So?
- S0? How do you think that makes me feel?
- That's stupid. You know I'm with you.
- Yeah, but does she know that?
- Well, no. No, she doesn't.
- There you go.
- You think I should tell her?
She's coming closer with her hands held out, offering something.
- Yes. Yes, I think you should.
- Ok then.
Then she steps up real close and puts her hand on my neck and kisses me until I whimper.
She closes her eyes and blindly fumbles on my chest.
My hands are flailing in her hair.
Sighing, she reaches down and slowly, clumsily potters around the zipper. And then she feels me.
I've never been this wet and she says that much.
She takes her time but still it's over way too quickly.
And when I tell her I love her she says it too, and I realize that by now she should know we're talking about two different things.
But I'm way past caring.
SIX
Most people don't know this, but Sara really is scarred.
She's got small, barely visible ones in random patterns, bigger ones scattered over her back, and a large one across her abdomen that would scare Dr Frankenstein himself.
They're all tangible, and they're all there.
Some nights she acts like they aren't and she wants me to touch her body like she's someone else entirely.
Those nights, she needs me to fill her up and drink her dry. And I do. And I love it.
Other nights, she lets me trace them with my fingers and pick one out so she can tell me its story.
Those nights are quiet, intimate, and terrifying.
And I love that too.
One of those nights I asked her where we were going with this, and she said she was not going anywhere. That she wanted to stay right here, just like this for ever. And I again realized that we were talking about two different things, but this time I do care.
- Have you talked to Catherine yet, or bettter yet: have you talked to anyone about this?
- About what?
- Us. Have you told Willows about us?
- No. No, I haven't. And honestly, I don't really understand why I should.
- Maybe because it would be fair to her, and ME, to let her know.
- Why is that?
- Because she's hitting on you?
- That's ridiculous. You think every woman alive is hitting on me.
- Yeah, well, most of them are.
- Why would they, do I have "DYKE" tattooed on my forehead? Why would anyone think I'm gay?
- Because you are?
- Even I don't know that.
By now we're shouting in the kitchen. Sara has managed to pull on one of my t-shirts, way too small for her, and nothing else. I found a robe somewhere, so I'm guessing I have a slight advantage in the comfortable department. Not that it matters.
- Then what are we doing here exactly, Sidle?
- Mia. You're my best friend, and I love you. But I can't see why the whole world needs to know we're sleeping together.
- So that's it, we're sleeping together?
- Seeing each other, whatever you want to call it.
- That's just it. I want to be able to call us a couple. And I want us to be recognized as such by everyone else as well.
- Well I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm ready for that.
- Not ready, or maybe you just don't want that with me?
- That's a shitty thing to say.
- Or maybe you want it with Catherine?
- Oh, please!
- Yeah, well, until you figure it out I think we better call this off.
- What?
- You heard me.
- You're dumping me?
- Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.
- That's not fair.
- Nothing much is.
We're now on the couch, facing each other. Sara's started to cry, and I think I will too. Soon.
- I thought it was enough if you could love me just a little, but it isn't.
I take a deep breath.
- I think, no I KNOW I deserve better.
- I just need some time…
- You can take all the time in the world, baby, but remember: once you figure it out, it might be too late.
- I knew you'd say that.
SEVEN
She was miserable for weeks, and I was out fucking every lesbian in Vegas. Not that it helped much, but it didn't hurt either.
We were in my lab, comparing notes, pretending everything was normal when Catherine chose to appear.
- Sara. Dickerson.
- Can I help you?
- Actually, I was looking for Sara.
- Not here, Catherine.
- I don't see why not? I'm sure your precious little Mia can't wait to hear it. It's not like it is news to her anyway, is it?
Now what?
- I'm not listening to this, Catherine. Not here, not now.
- Not ever most likely!
She comes real close, leaning in on Sara and lowers her voice.
- What happened Sara, you used to talk to me, remember, before?
Damn, she's good. Matchless, a legend in her field.
- Yeah, well, I didn't think you could hurt me before.
What?
- And you think I can hurt you now.
- Yeah.
- You know shit, Sidle.
My head snaps up to see they're smiling.
They're smiling?
- Catch you later, then, Sar'. Dick-er-son, always a pleasure.
- Fuck you Willows.
Sara refuses to look at me, and it doesn't really matter because I don't really want to look at her either.
- So, you're with her now.
- No. Absolutely not. We're just friends.
- If you say so.
Then Novak happened, and suddenly they were everywhere together. Sara took Catherine's side almost viciously; defending her like a lion mother would her cub.
I don't know why that bothered me, but it did.
I knew they'd started a friendship of sorts since that last blow up, months ago. And I knew Sara had needed whatever friends she could get then, and most certainly needed one now. I also knew Catherine had been flirting with her for years, but that Sara always had shrugged it off.
They were friends on the best of days, but most of the time they were fighting.
- Dickerson.
- Willows.
- So, I wanted to ask you something.
- Ok.
- Do you know if Sara's seeing someone right now?
How high school is that?
- Don't you think you should ask Sara that??
She's leaning on my desk. Great perfume. Great tits.
- Funny you should say that. She told me to ask you.
- Oh.
- Yeah.
- No. She's not seeing anyone I know of.
- Thank you. Later, ok?
- Ok.
Oh, Sara, you're such a coward.
After that horrible day with Nicky, the whole gang sort of got glued into each other and then they were all working as a team again.
Everything just lulled on, settled in, and worked out. So after some time, my months with Sara almost seemed like a weird but wonderful dream.
We still speak a lot at work, but that's about it. I know she misses our friendship, and I like to think she misses the rest of me even more.
Sometimes, she touches me fleetingly, as if to test me, and that's easy to resist.
But sometimes she has that look in her eyes, and those are the nights when I need to avoid her. Like tonight.
I've been hiding in the lab. But then I hear how she's assigned a case and heads out with Greg, so I venture to the break room for some coffee.
Catherine's there, on the phone. With a nod she acknowledges my presence, but she stays on the phone, stays in the room.
- Uhu, she says, I know. I did too.
I grab my coffee to hurry back to the lab when she whispers quietly, but not quietly enough:
- Baby believe me, I wouldn't trade that work of art for all the silk of perfect skin.
And that's when I know it really is too late.
EIGHT
The tension around them has always been massive, but ever since they became lovers it's almost palpable.
Each time they're in a room together, I can smell them.
When they're apart, I actually trip on the strings that bind them together.
Their fighting is becoming the stuff of legends. But they always magically make up out of sight.
I hate it of course.
I hate to be a witness to that connection, the enormity that is them in union. I hate to recognize a relationship that is everything she and I never had. My only comfort is that nobody else knows about them.
And that is so sad and lonely it's really no comfort at all.
Now Catherine comes yelling down the corridor with Sara a few steps behind. She storms into her office and slams the door shut.
- Catherine, please.
More yelling from behind the door.
- Catherine.
- So help me god, Sara.
- Catherine.
- Don't, just don't. Just... grow UP.
- Please.
- Don't!
Silence. The corridor looks like a rosary, a string of heads popping out from every door.
- You're in my head.
- I'm at your door.
The door swings open and Catherine is there. With one look I know what she is about to say:
- I really am sorry.
With that she walks away, down the corridor with her back straight.
One head at a time pops in as she passes.
- Catherine…
Sara, baby, say something.
- Cath…
She's almost gone, Sara, DO something.
- Catherine, for fuck's sake, I love you!
That's my girl.
And when they kiss, I hear Greg behind me.
- Aaaaah, that's too sweet.
Bittersweet.
The End