hey do you have csi fanfictions preferably nick/sara?
please send them to me... :)

hey do you have csi fanfictions preferably nick/sara?
please send them to me... :)

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She sat in the passenger's seat of his company Denali, her left arm resting on the console, his fingers entwined around hers. Since they had walked out the front doors of the police station, his hand had only left hers once, when he had opened the door to get into the vehicle. They had not said one word to each other since they had left, she was afraid to hear what he was thinking, and he was afraid to say it. He didn't want to take the chance that it would come out the wrong way. He snuck a glance at her, her eyes were focused even more than his on the road, and before he knew what he was doing, he opened his mouth.

"Sara--"

"Please don't." She cut him off with a choked voice. For a slight second, he was afraid that he had done the wrong thing by trying to talk, especially when she slid her fingers out of his grasp. He realized that he was wrong a second later when she leaned over and laid her head onto the middle console. Now his fingers found themselves entwined in her hair, softly massaging her head as she fought back the tears.

She had been fine until they had gotten into the Denali, and ever since, she was fighting back the tears of embarassment. She kept asking herself why she hadn't listened to Brass when he had offered his advice a couple of weeks ago. She was so ashamed that he had to find out this way, rather that he had to find out at all. She couldn't bear to think what he thought of her now that he knew this. She kept praying that it was all a horribly bad dream, and that she'd wake up at any moment, shaken, but comfortably in her own bed. It was at that thought that the tears started to flow, she didn't sob, just couldn't stop the watering.

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, and started to allow herself to drift off, not noticing that he was heading towards his townhouse, away from her apartment.

"Hey," He said and she pulled her head up right before she drifted of to sleep. He decided that he couldn't have the least bit of insecurity in his voice when he said the next words. "You have two options."

She looked at him, for the first time, he could almost see the fear in her face for what he was about to say, so he slightly smiled, an attempt to make her relax a bit.

"Number 1, We stop by my place and I grab a change of clothes so we relax at your place, or Number 2, I quickly make a U-turn, we pick up some of your clothes, and you come stay by me. It's your call."

"Gil," She hadn't used his first name in quite a while. "I don't know what to do about this, I mean, this isn't the way I wanted this to happen."

"I'm not leaving you alone," There was no question in the way that he said the words.

"My place is a mess."

"So then I assume that you're going with number 2."

"I didn't want you to think of me this way."

"I don't think that of you, and I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't ok," She put her hand into his once more. "Um, Sara, I need both my hands."

She was caught off-guard, until she realized that he meant to turn around and head back towards her apartment. He replaced his hand into hers once he had turned the wheel. There were no intentions of anything happening, he just knew what he had to do about 'this'. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't going to let fear of the unknown stop him.

She sat in the passenger's seat of his company Denali, her left arm resting on the console, his fingers entwined around hers. Since they had walked out the front doors of the police station, his hand had only left hers once, when he had opened the door to get into the vehicle. They had not said one word to each other since they had left, she was afraid to hear what he was thinking, and he was afraid to say it. He didn't want to take the chance that it would come out the wrong way. He snuck a glance at her, her eyes were focused even more than his on the road, and before he knew what he was doing, he opened his mouth.

"Sara--"

"Please don't." She cut him off with a choked voice. For a slight second, he was afraid that he had done the wrong thing by trying to talk, especially when she slid her fingers out of his grasp. He realized that he was wrong a second later when she leaned over and laid her head onto the middle console. Now his fingers found themselves entwined in her hair, softly massaging her head as she fought back the tears.

She had been fine until they had gotten into the Denali, and ever since, she was fighting back the tears of embarassment. She kept asking herself why she hadn't listened to Brass when he had offered his advice a couple of weeks ago. She was so ashamed that he had to find out this way, rather that he had to find out at all. She couldn't bear to think what he thought of her now that he knew this. She kept praying that it was all a horribly bad dream, and that she'd wake up at any moment, shaken, but comfortably in her own bed. It was at that thought that the tears started to flow, she didn't sob, just couldn't stop the watering.

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, and started to allow herself to drift off, not noticing that he was heading towards his townhouse, away from her apartment.

"Hey," He said and she pulled her head up right before she drifted of to sleep. He decided that he couldn't have the least bit of insecurity in his voice when he said the next words. "You have two options."

She looked at him, for the first time, he could almost see the fear in her face for what he was about to say, so he slightly smiled, an attempt to make her relax a bit.

"Number 1, We stop by my place and I grab a change of clothes so we relax at your place, or Number 2, I quickly make a U-turn, we pick up some of your clothes, and you come stay by me. It's your call."

"Gil," She hadn't used his first name in quite a while. "I don't know what to do about this, I mean, this isn't the way I wanted this to happen."

"I'm not leaving you alone," There was no question in the way that he said the words.

"My place is a mess."

"So then I assume that you're going with number 2."

"I didn't want you to think of me this way."

"I don't think that of you, and I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't ok," She put her hand into his once more. "Um, Sara, I need both my hands."

She was caught off-guard, until she realized that he meant to turn around and head back towards her apartment. He replaced his hand into hers once he had turned the wheel. There were no intentions of anything happening, he just knew what he had to do about 'this'. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't going to let fear of the unknown stop him.

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She sat in the passenger's seat of his company Denali, her left arm resting on the console, his fingers entwined around hers. Since they had walked out the front doors of the police station, his hand had only left hers once, when he had opened the door to get into the vehicle. They had not said one word to each other since they had left, she was afraid to hear what he was thinking, and he was afraid to say it. He didn't want to take the chance that it would come out the wrong way. He snuck a glance at her, her eyes were focused even more than his on the road, and before he knew what he was doing, he opened his mouth.

"Sara--"

"Please don't." She cut him off with a choked voice. For a slight second, he was afraid that he had done the wrong thing by trying to talk, especially when she slid her fingers out of his grasp. He realized that he was wrong a second later when she leaned over and laid her head onto the middle console. Now his fingers found themselves entwined in her hair, softly massaging her head as she fought back the tears.

She had been fine until they had gotten into the Denali, and ever since, she was fighting back the tears of embarassment. She kept asking herself why she hadn't listened to Brass when he had offered his advice a couple of weeks ago. She was so ashamed that he had to find out this way, rather that he had to find out at all. She couldn't bear to think what he thought of her now that he knew this. She kept praying that it was all a horribly bad dream, and that she'd wake up at any moment, shaken, but comfortably in her own bed. It was at that thought that the tears started to flow, she didn't sob, just couldn't stop the watering.

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, and started to allow herself to drift off, not noticing that he was heading towards his townhouse, away from her apartment.

"Hey," He said and she pulled her head up right before she drifted of to sleep. He decided that he couldn't have the least bit of insecurity in his voice when he said the next words. "You have two options."

She looked at him, for the first time, he could almost see the fear in her face for what he was about to say, so he slightly smiled, an attempt to make her relax a bit.

"Number 1, We stop by my place and I grab a change of clothes so we relax at your place, or Number 2, I quickly make a U-turn, we pick up some of your clothes, and you come stay by me. It's your call."

"Gil," She hadn't used his first name in quite a while. "I don't know what to do about this, I mean, this isn't the way I wanted this to happen."

"I'm not leaving you alone," There was no question in the way that he said the words.

"My place is a mess."

"So then I assume that you're going with number 2."

"I didn't want you to think of me this way."

"I don't think that of you, and I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't ok," She put her hand into his once more. "Um, Sara, I need both my hands."

She was caught off-guard, until she realized that he meant to turn around and head back towards her apartment. He replaced his hand into hers once he had turned the wheel. There were no intentions of anything happening, he just knew what he had to do about 'this'. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't going to let fear of the unknown stop him.

She sat in the passenger's seat of his company Denali, her left arm resting on the console, his fingers entwined around hers. Since they had walked out the front doors of the police station, his hand had only left hers once, when he had opened the door to get into the vehicle. They had not said one word to each other since they had left, she was afraid to hear what he was thinking, and he was afraid to say it. He didn't want to take the chance that it would come out the wrong way. He snuck a glance at her, her eyes were focused even more than his on the road, and before he knew what he was doing, he opened his mouth.

"Sara--"

"Please don't." She cut him off with a choked voice. For a slight second, he was afraid that he had done the wrong thing by trying to talk, especially when she slid her fingers out of his grasp. He realized that he was wrong a second later when she leaned over and laid her head onto the middle console. Now his fingers found themselves entwined in her hair, softly massaging her head as she fought back the tears.

She had been fine until they had gotten into the Denali, and ever since, she was fighting back the tears of embarassment. She kept asking herself why she hadn't listened to Brass when he had offered his advice a couple of weeks ago. She was so ashamed that he had to find out this way, rather that he had to find out at all. She couldn't bear to think what he thought of her now that he knew this. She kept praying that it was all a horribly bad dream, and that she'd wake up at any moment, shaken, but comfortably in her own bed. It was at that thought that the tears started to flow, she didn't sob, just couldn't stop the watering.

"I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, and started to allow herself to drift off, not noticing that he was heading towards his townhouse, away from her apartment.

"Hey," He said and she pulled her head up right before she drifted of to sleep. He decided that he couldn't have the least bit of insecurity in his voice when he said the next words. "You have two options."

She looked at him, for the first time, he could almost see the fear in her face for what he was about to say, so he slightly smiled, an attempt to make her relax a bit.

"Number 1, We stop by my place and I grab a change of clothes so we relax at your place, or Number 2, I quickly make a U-turn, we pick up some of your clothes, and you come stay by me. It's your call."

"Gil," She hadn't used his first name in quite a while. "I don't know what to do about this, I mean, this isn't the way I wanted this to happen."

"I'm not leaving you alone," There was no question in the way that he said the words.

"My place is a mess."

"So then I assume that you're going with number 2."

"I didn't want you to think of me this way."

"I don't think that of you, and I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't ok," She put her hand into his once more. "Um, Sara, I need both my hands."

She was caught off-guard, until she realized that he meant to turn around and head back towards her apartment. He replaced his hand into hers once he had turned the wheel. There were no intentions of anything happening, he just knew what he had to do about 'this'. And for the first time in his life, he wasn't going to let fear of the unknown stop him.

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A little more than an hour after Gil had pulled a u-turn on the road, Sara found herself climbing out of the Denali at his townhouse. She grabbed her duffel bag out of the back seat and slammed the door shut, making her way up the drive where he had stopped walking to wait for her. When she got close enough, he reached under the shoulder strap and lifted it off of her.
He had expected to hear some sort of argument, the only thing she said was a quiet, “Thank you.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice, which hadn’t been heard since she told him that she didn’t want him to think badly of her. They walked toward the front door, Gil fumbling with his keys to find the right one, and Sara following so closely behind that she seemed to be afraid that he might disappear. As he unlocked the door, she reached under the strap and reclaimed her bag, making him smile candidly at her stubbornness.
He held the door open so that she could walk in first, then he shut it behind them. She took a few steps, not knowing where exactly to put down her stuff, deciding a second later that the floor next to one of the grey columns looked like a great place.
“You eat anything yet?” He passed her, walking into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door when he got to it, then looking back at her to watch her shake her head no. She walked toward the kitchen peninsula, pulling out on of the stools set next to it and sitting down.
She stared at the counter when she spoke, just in case her smart-aleck reply didn’t go over well, “I don’t really think pretzels count as a meal.”
He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and set the carton onto the counter, leaning back down for something else, “Mixed with enough, technically it can be.”
She watched him pull a few more items out—cheese, a green pepper, a red pepper and a carton of mushrooms—which went next to the carton of eggs on the counter, then she said, “Well then technically I think I hit all the food groups. Pretzels, peanuts, pineapple, and Malibu.”
He smiled at her wittiness, “Fiber, Protein, Fruit, and well we’ll file the last on at the top of the pyramid.”
“Can I help with anything?” She balanced her head on her wrist.
“No.” He said very quickly. “My treat.”
He looked up at her and watched her nod in acceptance, her eyes examining the objects that he had in his kitchen, stopping when they spotted the couple bottles of alcohol that he had set under the cabinet next to the fridge.
“Wanna make me something to drink?” He asked, not break the rhythm that he seemed to be in.
She jumped off of the stool, “Whatcha want?”
“OJ and Vodka.” He didn’t miss a beat. “Glasses are in the cabinet next to the fridge.”
She reached into the shelf and grabbed two glasses, flipping them over as she brought them out. Vodka was poured into his glass, and the Malibu that had been right next to it went into hers. She pulled the orange juice out of the fridge and filled the both glasses the rest of the way, setting his down on the counter next to him when she sat back down.
“Thanks.” He continued to make omelets, knowing that if she had any complaints she wouldn’t hold back telling him that she didn’t like something. The screwdriver that she had made him was really a test of the waters for what he was going to ask next. “Um, can I ask you something?”
Taking a gulp of her drink, she looked back at the counter, “Depends on what.”
“You know what.”
Another gulp, “What do you want to know?”
He noticed that the sarcasm in her voice was gone, now replaced by a seriousness.
“Why’d you do it?” He handed her a plate and a fork as he went back to making one huge omelet. He finally took a drink of the orange juice and couldn’t help but notice the large amount of vodka that seemed to be in there.
“I think I’m burning out.” Her drink was half gone.
“Why don’t you take some of that vacation time?” He took another small sip of his drink.
“I’m not burning out from work.” Another gulp, then, “I’m burning out from my entire life.”
She didn’t have to look at him to know that she had caught him off guard. “It’s not like I don’t have control over it Gil, it’s just that the alcohol makes it all disappear.”

A little more than an hour after Gil had pulled a u-turn on the road, Sara found herself climbing out of the Denali at his townhouse. She grabbed her duffel bag out of the back seat and slammed the door shut, making her way up the drive where he had stopped walking to wait for her. When she got close enough, he reached under the shoulder strap and lifted it off of her.
He had expected to hear some sort of argument, the only thing she said was a quiet, “Thank you.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice, which hadn’t been heard since she told him that she didn’t want him to think badly of her. They walked toward the front door, Gil fumbling with his keys to find the right one, and Sara following so closely behind that she seemed to be afraid that he might disappear. As he unlocked the door, she reached under the strap and reclaimed her bag, making him smile candidly at her stubbornness.
He held the door open so that she could walk in first, then he shut it behind them. She took a few steps, not knowing where exactly to put down her stuff, deciding a second later that the floor next to one of the grey columns looked like a great place.
“You eat anything yet?” He passed her, walking into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door when he got to it, then looking back at her to watch her shake her head no. She walked toward the kitchen peninsula, pulling out on of the stools set next to it and sitting down.
She stared at the counter when she spoke, just in case her smart-aleck reply didn’t go over well, “I don’t really think pretzels count as a meal.”
He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and set the carton onto the counter, leaning back down for something else, “Mixed with enough, technically it can be.”
She watched him pull a few more items out—cheese, a green pepper, a red pepper and a carton of mushrooms—which went next to the carton of eggs on the counter, then she said, “Well then technically I think I hit all the food groups. Pretzels, peanuts, pineapple, and Malibu.”
He smiled at her wittiness, “Fiber, Protein, Fruit, and well we’ll file the last on at the top of the pyramid.”
“Can I help with anything?” She balanced her head on her wrist.
“No.” He said very quickly. “My treat.”
He looked up at her and watched her nod in acceptance, her eyes examining the objects that he had in his kitchen, stopping when they spotted the couple bottles of alcohol that he had set under the cabinet next to the fridge.
“Wanna make me something to drink?” He asked, not break the rhythm that he seemed to be in.
She jumped off of the stool, “Whatcha want?”
“OJ and Vodka.” He didn’t miss a beat. “Glasses are in the cabinet next to the fridge.”
She reached into the shelf and grabbed two glasses, flipping them over as she brought them out. Vodka was poured into his glass, and the Malibu that had been right next to it went into hers. She pulled the orange juice out of the fridge and filled the both glasses the rest of the way, setting his down on the counter next to him when she sat back down.
“Thanks.” He continued to make omelets, knowing that if she had any complaints she wouldn’t hold back telling him that she didn’t like something. The screwdriver that she had made him was really a test of the waters for what he was going to ask next. “Um, can I ask you something?”
Taking a gulp of her drink, she looked back at the counter, “Depends on what.”
“You know what.”
Another gulp, “What do you want to know?”
He noticed that the sarcasm in her voice was gone, now replaced by a seriousness.
“Why’d you do it?” He handed her a plate and a fork as he went back to making one huge omelet. He finally took a drink of the orange juice and couldn’t help but notice the large amount of vodka that seemed to be in there.
“I think I’m burning out.” Her drink was half gone.
“Why don’t you take some of that vacation time?” He took another small sip of his drink.
“I’m not burning out from work.” Another gulp, then, “I’m burning out from my entire life.”
She didn’t have to look at him to know that she had caught him off guard. “It’s not like I don’t have control over it Gil, it’s just that the alcohol makes it all disappear.”

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Another gulp, which the effects of were starting to become obvious as soon as it cleared her throat, “You know it’s funny, it I’d known this was all I had to do to get you to notice me, I would have done it a while ago.”

He had just finished making the large vegetarian omelet which he slid onto her plate, “Sara, I notice you.”

She looked at him, “Do you really?”

He put the pan into the sink, then, “Honey, I notice you everyday.....especially the ones where you think that you’re ‘overtalking’ around me.”

This comment made her smile a tiny bit, “Don’t do that to me.... You can’t do that to me.....It’s not fair!”

“What?!”

“You can’t call me Honey, and tell me that I have to stay at your house, and do this to me.....”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because......”A pause to push her drink away from her, she couldn’t have him think that the alcohol was any part of what she was about to say, “God, I’ve been in love with you since those seminars when I was a student, and you were a professor, and we flirt and lead each other on, and I can’t take it.... I just don’t know what to do any--”

She couldn’t get the rest of the word out before his mouth was covering hers, not a huge passionate kiss, but it didn’t matter to her, the important thing was that his lips were touching hers. He had grabbed her face and pulled it close to her, he couldn’t deny himself anymore, she was in love with him, and he was finally ready to admit how much in love he was with her.

Another gulp, which the effects of were starting to become obvious as soon as it cleared her throat, “You know it’s funny, it I’d known this was all I had to do to get you to notice me, I would have done it a while ago.”

He had just finished making the large vegetarian omelet which he slid onto her plate, “Sara, I notice you.”

She looked at him, “Do you really?”

He put the pan into the sink, then, “Honey, I notice you everyday.....especially the ones where you think that you’re ‘overtalking’ around me.”

This comment made her smile a tiny bit, “Don’t do that to me.... You can’t do that to me.....It’s not fair!”

“What?!”

“You can’t call me Honey, and tell me that I have to stay at your house, and do this to me.....”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because......”A pause to push her drink away from her, she couldn’t have him think that the alcohol was any part of what she was about to say, “God, I’ve been in love with you since those seminars when I was a student, and you were a professor, and we flirt and lead each other on, and I can’t take it.... I just don’t know what to do any--”

She couldn’t get the rest of the word out before his mouth was covering hers, not a huge passionate kiss, but it didn’t matter to her, the important thing was that his lips were touching hers. He had grabbed her face and pulled it close to her, he couldn’t deny himself anymore, she was in love with him, and he was finally ready to admit how much in love he was with her.

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opps accidently press send without writing a message...haha....my fav CSI has gotta be NICK!!!>....he is so damn CUTE!!!!>....cool....funny...and weird in som ways....juz luv him.....Nick u rawk man!!!.....YEAH!
=== Original Message ===>>>>

opps accidently press send without writing a message...haha....my fav CSI has gotta be NICK!!!>....he is so damn CUTE!!!!>....cool....funny...and weird in som ways....juz luv him.....Nick u rawk man!!!.....YEAH!
=== Original Message ===>>>>

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I think my fav. season so far has been 1rst, whats about everyone elsE\e?

I think my fav. season so far has been 1rst, whats about everyone elsE\e?

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my fav season...hmmm.....i can't really choose...they're all so gud!!!!......WELL mayb....season 4......its cooler...better....and nick's cuterQ!!!
=== Original Message ===>>>>

I think my fav. season so far has been 1rst, whats about everyone elsE\e?

my fav season...hmmm.....i can't really choose...they're all so gud!!!!......WELL mayb....season 4......its cooler...better....and nick's cuterQ!!!
=== Original Message ===>>>>

I think my fav. season so far has been 1rst, whats about everyone elsE\e?

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This show is the best.. im in colombia therefore.. the seasons are a little bit delayd.. but I think season 1 was defenetly the best cause every espisode was full of mistery ;)

This show is the best.. im in colombia therefore.. the seasons are a little bit delayd.. but I think season 1 was defenetly the best cause every espisode was full of mistery ;)

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