lvpd_sidle: (crying in the rain -- ezzvaldez)
Alone

"Please." The word is a whimper. Sara turns restlessly, bumping into Mark.

Unloved.

"Don't leave me--no, it wasn't me I swear it wasn't me..." Her body trembles, sweat gathering on her forehead.

Unwanted

"Mark, no Mark I love you I need you please......"

Her hand reaches out, seeking someone, anyone, finding only solitude, though he is beside her.

She cries, still caught in the dream, in the nightmare, in the reality she still believes she will see.

OOM: Paris

Sep. 17th, 2006 03:24 pm
lvpd_sidle: (naughty gown)
Sara normally hated shopping. She didn't like dealing with other people, and she certainly didn't like the tedium of searching for whatever it was that she needed. Clothes shopping was the worst. She was naturally thin and store clerks would often point her out as an example of what women were supposed to look like.

(She did enjoy bursting those bubbles whenever she could.)

But since she and Mark were in Paris, she felt that not taking advantage of the stores and boutiques would be wasteful.

She didn't plan on buying any clothing. Maybe souvenirs for friends back in the Bar or in Vegas.

But she had found it. Something that made her break her own rule.

"What've you got there?" Mark asked her, peering at the box in her arms.

"I'll show you." She disappeared for a few minutes, taking the time to brush her hair, put on a slight hint of makeup.

And she stood at the door, one arm resting against it. "Like it?"

Mark was silent.

"If not, I could always take it back--"

Emphatic head-shaking.

"You do like it."

Emphatic nodding.

"Would it be better like...this?" Brushing against him.

Time passed without conscious thought. Then, a soft, slow, lazy voice spoke.

"Guess that's a yes."

Postcards

Sep. 15th, 2006 03:44 pm
lvpd_sidle: (Mark/Sara -- gippalgoogler)
[ooc: Great muns think alike. And shamelessly steal from each other.]

On the back of a postcard depicting two puppies wrestling
Angel,
I stand by my statement that Paris would be nicer if it wasn't full of French people. But then again, I don't think that guy will ever try to take a woman's camera again. Ask Mark for details--he filmed it. Well, some of it. He spent most of his time laughing.
-Sara


On the back of a postcard showing a child running across a doctor's office
Guppy,
Hope that Holby hasn't kept you too busy. Mark dragged me to Paris for my birthday. No complaints. And it's rather beautiful here, all things considered. Avoid the snails. I swear, they put them in everything.
-Sara
lvpd_sidle: (csi -- baraz)
It might be September, but there is little danger of getting cold in Las Vegas.

The city never sleeps, and neither do the various branches of law enforcement.

The lab is busy when Sara and Mark walk in through the door--Swing shift is leaving and Night shift is about to begin.

Music is playing, an old song by The Who. The atmosphere isn't tense, indicating that there are no pressing cases.

Just another night in Vegas.
lvpd_sidle: (dangerous -- noinfoprovided)
"Shit, Sara, are you all right?"

"I think so, Gibbs," she says hoarsely, pushing herself off the ground. "What about the shooters?"

"A unit caught them speeding away--Christ, why the hell are you worrying about that? You could've been killed!"

"I know." She swallows hard, feeling sick. "I know. If you hadn't knocked me down--"

Gibbs gives her a confused look, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't get to you--thought you tripped over something."

I didn't trip...

"Guess I did. Thank God for small mercies."

"No kidding." Her supervisor sighs. "I'll handle the paperwork needed--let the EMTs check you out, then go home. I don't want to see you in the lab for at least a week."

"I'm not going to argue about that."

He chuckles. "Miracles never cease. Go, Sara."

She heads towards the waiting paramedics, breathing in deeply to calm herself.

You're all right. You're all right. You're all right.

She laughs as the date comes to mind. "Happy birthday to me. I'm alive."
lvpd_sidle: (about to break -- csiallie)
At first it is dark and she feels the sensation of falling--

Never seen such intelligence in such a small child--

Be good for Daddy, sweetheart. Mama's not here--

You were under the mistaken impression that I had strong feelings for you--

Sidle, you've got to take better care of yourself. You'll get killed otherwise, and I don't want to lose my best CSI--


That catches her attention, a memory slowly niggling back out to the forefront.

In a way, it's almost like watching a movie. She sees herself stocking her kit and annoyed at the fact that the lab still hadn't acquired more Kevlar vests. Trading a smart-assed quip with her supervisor, ignoring the cop leering over at her from the squad car.

Unlike before, she can see the other car pulling up behind her, the gun being pointed out the window--

And she understands. This is it. The one chance I have the one chance to change things the one chance to make a difference--

Is that what you wish? All that you wish?

The source of the voice does not matter, but the questions do.

Don't let me forget Murphy. Or Milliways. Any of it.

Please.


It is your wish.

Ground beneath her feet and she runs as fast as she can, knocking herself over.

"You owe me one," she whispers, eyes closing. "You owe me."
lvpd_sidle: (broken wings -- princessjen723)
After two years in the place, Sara feels she knows the corridors as well as anyone else does.
Never expected a bar as my afterlife.
She goes upstairs, wandering down towards her room. She's not thinking about where she is going. Her mind is occupied with other matters, and it's not like the hall has ever changed on her.
Someday, the door will come for me.
Her hand touches the doorknob and it feels the same. Without really looking, she opens it and steps through--
Just once, I wish I had met him. Had coffee. Gone dancing.
But it is not her room.
Why did I have to find him now?
And it is no longer the bar.

[ooc: White text is from different threads.]
lvpd_sidle: (Mark/Sara -- gippalgoogler)
While in Santa Fe, Sara took off her watch. Such might not seem like a big thing to anyone who did not know her well. For the first time in her life, she was not concerned about the time, or what agenda was in store for her.

She relaxed, sitting on the balcony of Mark's hotel room, turning her face up to catch the rays of the sun.

She explored, wandering around the hiking trails, admiring the desolate beauty climate and time had brought to the place.

Mark had cajoled her into appearing in several scenes, mostly by not telling her she was being filmed until after the fact. The crew, at first highly amused to see their director acting like a schoolboy, soon grew used to having Sara around. The discovery of a meat sandwich on her tray in the cafeteria told her that she was seen as one of the crew. The demonstration of her forensic techniques and Adam subsequently being dyed an alarming shade of pink quickly taught the others that she wasn't a member of the crew to be pranked.

All in all, she enjoyed her time in Santa Fe. Not for the movie, the scenery, or the lack of work, though those were certainly bonuses. She enjoyed the sound of Mark breathing beside her, his hand on her shoulder, a kiss brushed to her cheek before he rushed off to continue his work.

A new kind of normal. A kind that she could easily get used to.
lvpd_sidle: (*smirk* -- bathroomtalk)
[ooc: This is Millitimed before the New Years party.]

Four sets of hands are better than two, and Sara's more than happy to give Angel a hand with his costume.

They chat quietly about inane subjects--Sara recounting the funnier cases she'd had in San Francisco, Angel talking about the people he'd meet while drumming on the streets--while carefully melding together plastic and fabric.

Just a quiet, calm evening.
lvpd_sidle: (Mark/Sara - minkhollow)
They are still kissing even as they walk in the door.

[ooc: Adult content. NWS!]
lvpd_sidle: (broken wings -- princessjen723)
Beware of the sudden calm of day. It heralds the arrival of a storm.

Her father's warning echoes in her mind, but she does not know why.

Lot of good that bastard did for me anyway.

An End

Jul. 20th, 2006 11:29 am
lvpd_sidle: (side view sara/greg -- _kissmygrass)
As far as breakups went, it could have almost been considered amicable.

Greg did not scream at her, nor did he ask what he could have done to make her change her mind.

He just nodded his head and said that it had been fun while it lasted.

Somehow, that made her feel worse than she already did.

She watched him walk out the door, wishing that there could have been some other way to spare him. But inwardly, Sara knew that they would not have lasted in the long run, even without Mark.

They needed havens outside of their work, and that simply wasn't something they would have been able to find with each other.

She could only hope that someday, she would be his friend once again.

OOC: Meme!

Jul. 10th, 2006 11:12 am
lvpd_sidle: (ooc oh noes! -- velocityofsound)
As stolen from [livejournal.com profile] bohemian_mark:

(Click here to post your own answers for this meme.)

I miss somebody right now.  (Murphy, Tony, Barry....) I don't watch much TV these days.  (When would I have the time?) I own lots of books.  (That includes books that aren't necessary for my job. Shocking, I know.)
× I wear glasses or contact lenses. × I love to play video games. × I've tried marijuana.
I've watched porn movies.  (The plots stay the same for some reason.) × I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship. I believe honesty is usually the best policy.  (Usually. Not always.)
I curse sometimes.  (Evidence gets contaminated and we swear like it's going out of style.) I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.  (Partially from necessity, but I believe a lot of it stems from personal growth.) I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.  (A knife and a gun.)
it goes on... )
lvpd_sidle: (sara-greg kissing -- metaphor)
Greg had chosen their destination since she had opted for the diner last time.

Knowing Greg, it would be unusual. The museum of numismatics certainly fit the bill. She knew he was a collector, but hadn't realized how much he truly enjoyed it.

Learn something new every day. Watching his face light up once they were in the exhibits was almost as entertaining as watching various frazzled parents corral their children.

"I hope you weren't too bored," he said afterwards, looking pleased when she took his hand in the parking lot.

"If I'd been bored, I would have been showing the security guards the flaws in their systems," she said pointedly. "Did I do that?"

"Not that I saw," he conceded. "Sara, I was wondering...I know it's July and all but...well, assuming we get there..."

"Spit it out, Greg." She was amused.

"Would you come home with me for Thanksgiving? Nana Olaf makes a mean vegetarian loaf..."

There was no mistaking the boyish anticipation on his face. She felt her heart contract.

"Go home with you as your what?"

They hadn't put a label on what they were, other than conceding that it was worthwhile to see where things were going.

Softer, "My Sara?" Seeing the stunned look on her face, "I'm pushing too fast. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

And she smiled, leaning forward and effectively shutting him up.

"I'd love to," she said afterwards.
lvpd_sidle: (ooc oh noes! -- velocityofsound)
Ask my characters anything! Or, better yet, tell me something about them that I don't know!

Sara Sidle ([livejournal.com profile] lvpd_sidle): Grown or wee!Sara
Gil Grissom ([livejournal.com profile] gris_bug_man)
Celebrian ([livejournal.com profile] the_silver_lady)
lvpd_sidle: (sara/greg -- melliemel411)
Since they had taken Greg's car to the diner, it only made sense for him to bring Sara with him to work that night.

They separate with soft smiles.

Sara signs in for the night, exchanging pleasantries with Judy before heading to the locker room to hang up her purse and change shoes.

Two seconds after she sits down on a bench, Catherine walks in with an amused look on her face.

"Since when do you and Greg carpool?"

She gets a raised eyebrow and slight smirk. "Since when does that matter?"

First Date

Jun. 30th, 2006 06:16 pm
lvpd_sidle: (side view sara/greg -- _kissmygrass)
They had agreed on a small, out of the way diner that specialized in vegetarian cuisine. The atmosphere was relaxing, the food delicious, and the tension so thick it was surprising that no one tripped over it.

After the fourth time Greg tapped his fingers on the table, Sara sighed.

"Greg, this is stupid. We know each other. We're not strangers."

"This is true, Sara, but familiarity does not always help with nerves. And..."

"Greg." More firmly. "Am I running out the door?"

"No."

"Have I made any effort to leave here early?"

"No, but we took my car."

Unamused look. "What do you think cabs are for?"

"Point."

"Am I upset?"

"Not that I can see. It's just, I wanted, I mean..."

"You don't have to impress me now. You impressed me years ago."

Greg looked up, startled, meeting her eyes. "What? Then why...when I asked...Hank..."

"I was hung up on Grissom. Then I fell for Barry. Now...just call me a slow learner."

Their hands met reaching for the check.

"My slow learner," he said softly.

She smiled back. Equally soft. "My crazy CSI-punk."

"Yours."

"Yours."

Notes

Jun. 25th, 2006 03:28 pm
lvpd_sidle: (Default)
Greg Sanders )

Grissom )

Friends )

Profile

lvpd_sidle: (Default)
Sara Sidle

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