DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Title from Sheryl Crow's "Leaving Las Vegas."
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Best Part of My Losing Streak
The bus went 'round and 'round, delivering tourists to casinos and back to hotels. Sofia sat in a middle seat, in a sweatshirt and jeans, watching as the neon lost its daily battle with the sun. Gaudy and eye-piercing transformed into mere bright, then to nearly invisible until finally they were turned off.
She held her coffee cup with both hands, the heat long since transferred from the liquid to the air. But she didn't want to throw it out.
She'd stuck to her guns, stuck up for Grissom... and she'd gotten a demotion out of it. She finally got off the bus when it neared her apartment and wandered aimlessly for a bit. By the time the sun was cresting the MGM Grand, her eyes were feeling sandpapery and her legs were starting to ache.
Finally giving in, she threw away her coffee and headed home. It didn't matter how bad the day had been, it was never actually real until she went home, put a pin in it, finished the day off once and for all. She didn't turn on the lights, walking into the living room with her hands in her pockets.
She jumped and hit the couch with her hip. "Ah, damn it... Sara."
Sara was standing by the window, silhouetted by the new morning light. She was wearing a hoodie, pulled up to conceal her face. Her legs were twisted, her hands shoved deep in the long pocket along the front of her shirt. "How'd you get in here?"
"Under the mat?" Sara said. She held up the spare key and put it on the table. "It's the first place robbers look. I expected better from the kid of a cop."
"What do you want?" Sofia asked.
"I want to finish what we started two weeks ago."
Sofia tensed. "I said you should forget that. I was being stupid, I thought--"
"You thought right," Sara said. "But I wasn't right about you. You stuck your neck out for us, for Grissom. If I had any doubts about you, about Ecklie's hold on you..."
"Yeah, well, it takes some of the bravado out of sticking your neck out when your head is lopped off."
Sara smirked. She stepped forward and said, "Look, when you stopped me in the locker room, I was... thrown. Surprised. I hardly knew you."
"Yeah. All reasons why what I did was so stupid."
"Not stupid," Sara said softly. "Ill-timed."
Sofia smiled. "So when would a good time be?"
Sara put one hand up and brushed Sofia's hair out of her face. She leaned in and pecked her lips, hardly a kiss, barely stronger than what Sofia had done in the locker room. But enough to get her point across.
Sofia pushed down Sara's hoodie and grabbed a handful of her hair. Their kiss deepened, Sofia melting against Sara's hard body. Through the window, she could see the Stratosphere rising high above the Strip. If ever there was a town to turn a losing streak into something positive, this was it.
She pushed Sara down to the couch and stretched out on top of her.
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