Feb. 3rd, 2007 02:35 pm
lvpd_sidle: (apparitions -- almost_october)
Sara is tired.

Tired of ruining lives as often as saving them.

Tired of remaining strong while everyone else seems to have the luxury of collapsing.

Tired of adhering to the rules when all she'd really wanted to do was punch Benny in the mouth.

She climbs the stairs, and even finds herself tired of them. One foot in front of the other and still not going anywhere. All she wants to do is sleep and forget for a time the existence of free will, and all of its consequences.

Mark is in her room, on her bed, shoes kicked off. He extends an arm to her.

Without a word, she kicks off her shoes and curls against him.

Can't get tired of this.

A muted question is murmured against her neck. She shakes her head, curling in even tighter.

Won't get tired of this.
lvpd_sidle: (wee!Sara two -- velocityofsound)
The first picture shows Mark hiding behind Angel, his Yoda pajamas sticking out and his small hands clutching at one of Angel's legs.

The second shows Angel laughing and trying to coax him out.

The third is blurry, showing another small figure grasping Mark's arm and beginning to pull.

The fourth, very clear, shows Mark and little Sara crowded on either side of Angel's lap. Sara is beaming widely and Mark is grinning bashfully, pizza sauce on his chin.

Another picture is focused on Collins. He has Sara sitting on one knee and Mark on the other, and both children are clearly enthralled with whatever he is saying.

The next picture shows Sara making a face and Mark grinning hugely. Whatever is being said is clearly gross.

Three other pictures are also blurry, showing the two kids engaged in a tug-of-war over the stuffed Wookie, from which Sara is the clear winner.

The last is one neither Angel nor Collins took--possibly it was done by Bar. Sara is leaning against Collins' side, and Mark is on Angel's lap. Both children are asleep.
lvpd_sidle: (beautiful -- rainy_days)
It stands to reason that since she had one dream (was it really just a dream?), Sara would have another.

She opened her eyes, taking in the familiar shoreline outside of the bed and breakfast. She was resting against a tree she had claimed as her own when she was five or six years old. Breathing in deeply, taking in the humidity, the salty tang of the air, feeling both homesickness and muted devastation.

"Sara! Come inside and help me with the cinnamon rolls!"

"Coming, Mom," she said obediently, automatically, heading into the two-story house. The kitchen was cheery--almost too cheery. The scent of cinnamon, yeast, and icing was too prevalent for her to check for blood, as she had ever since That Night.

She capitalized the words even in her own mind.

"Careful, sweetheart, it's hot."

"I know." She reached for oven mitts and her mother grabbed her left hand.

"Sara!" The shock and joy in Laura Sidle's voice could plainly be heard. She smiled widely, and Sara returned the grin.

They had each others' smile.

"Is he good to you?" Does he hurt you?

"So good, Mom. He loves me.......he would never hurt me. Never." The words are quiet, but heartfelt.

Laura pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Good. I knew you would do well for yourself. I'm so proud of you, Sara."

She ducked her head, busying herself with the tray of cinnamon buns. "Thanks, Mom." If her voice was rough for a moment, both ignored it.

"Let me pour us some coffee and let's have some breakfast. I want to hear more about this man."

"Well for starters, I met him completely outside of work....."

When she woke up this time, Sara's pillow wasn't wet.

And she was smiling.
lvpd_sidle: (beauty is sleeping -- trinity1986)
Her nightmares have been gradually tapering off. Sleep isn't something Sara regards with dread anymore.

She settles in next to Mark one night, comforted by the feeling of his arm around her waist.

Sometimes it still takes her a while to drift off.

Not this time.

[ooc: Locked.]
lvpd_sidle: (crying in the rain -- ezzvaldez)

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


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


"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.
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.
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: (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?"


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

"No, but we took my car."

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


"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."


lvpd_sidle: (faith or fear -- fizzy_lifting)
Her cell phone rings while she's trying rearrange her living room.


This is Dr. Haneka at Desert Palms. Your second test has been processed. Would you like the results now?

"I'll be there to pick them up."

Very well, Ms. Sidle. See you shortly.

Results )


Apr. 15th, 2006 11:40 am
lvpd_sidle: (tired -- call_me_daisy)
The sheriff had brought her the news personally.

Found dead in his holding cell...no inquiry...statements...case closed.

She breathed in as deeply as she comfortably could, and let it out. Relaxing fully against her pillows in the hospital.

Safe. From him at least. And they still won't tell me his name.

Not her problem anymore.

The bruises stood out in sharp contrast against her skin, and all her movement was stiff, ginger. Barring an infection, she would be released in another two days.

She had finished the book Angel sent. She had terrorized the orderlies with the toy Naraht so thoughtfully provided.

She was bored.
lvpd_sidle: (injured -- rose_noire)
Sara had been in the hospital before, on numerous occasions. But this was the first time she was there under police protection.

It took only five hours for her to get antsy. The doctors came and went, speaking in that infuriatingly patronizing tone, refusing to give her straight answers to her questions.

She had lost a lot of blood and there were numerous hairline fractures all over her body. She wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Waking up an undetermined time later, she saw that it was daylight. And Grissom was sitting in the visitor's seat, eyes haunted, several packages piled at his feet.

"I didn't see your brothers," he said quietly, "but I spoke with your friends Angel, Guppy, and Naraht. As well as Lord Elrond. They all send their regards, and I do believe Angel and Elrond will visit later, when the protection has been lifted."

"Griss, stop it," she said firmly, catching him off guard. "This guy was smart. But stupid. I'll be all right. You haven't failed."

His eyes widened at her words, and then his shoulders slumped. "It was close, Sara. Too damned close. I'm not prepared to bid goodbye to another member of my family."

Her hand was shaky, but warm, and she covered one of his. "I'll do my best to prevent that from happening."

Several moments passed, and Grissom finally relaxed. "Before I forget," he bent down and retrieved the packages. "Angel sent this book, and Naraht sent this sculpture as well as something to keep you occupied."

She laughed, face scrunching up in pain. "Oh man, I've got to remember not to do that. Tell them thanks for me?"

"Of course."

They chatted for some time, Sara telling him as much of her ordeal as she could remember.

Yet another doctor stopped in at the door. "Ms. Sidle? I'm here to discuss something and you may wish for some privacy," he said, glancing at Grissom.

Sara scowled. "He's family. What's the problem?"

The doctor, Tom Brown, hesitated. "Considering the circumstances in which you were found, and the modus operandi of the perpetrator, we will need to test you for HIV within a month. It is unlikely he sterilized his equipment properly, even if he thought to wash it--"

"I understand the implications, doctor. We are tested quarterly at the crime lab for that reason." She kept her voice controlled. "I'll make those arrangements."

The man nodded and left the room. Without a word, Grissom took her hand again.

She shook her head slowly, remembering the snuff film case.

You cut her throat. Her blood sprayed across your eyes. You killed her. I guess she's killing you back.

Her eyes burned.
lvpd_sidle: (Barry/Sara -- chains_of_irony)
There is no stereotypical marathon love-making. No whispered promises against heated skin, the softness of necks, the dip in collar bones.

Love breaks your heart

They don't speak of their past, their present, or the ever looming future.

Love takes no less than everything.

They drink champagne, resting against one another. Every now and then, Sara will look at Barry and see him smiling at her.

Love makes it hard.

She smiles back and oh, it hurts to know that smile will only be preserved in memory and photographs. It hurts to know she won't be able to walk down the Staff hall and see the lightning bolt as a homing beacon. It hurts knowing that the rock she had leaned upon would be no more.

And it fades away so easily...

"I love you, Sara," he whispers against her temple, lips brushing in a light kiss.

Love breaks the chains

"I love you, Barry," she whispers back, lightly bussing one of his cheeks. Their hands rest between them, entwined.

Love aches for every one of us

She closes her eyes, but knows sleep will not come this night for either of them.

Love takes the tears and the pain...

They lay in the semi-darkness, alternating between watching the shadows flicker on the wall, and each other. Cherishing each breath.

And turns it into the beauty that remains.
lvpd_sidle: (investigative sara -- bathroomtalk)
As usual, the weather in Las Vegas is sunny and hot. The streets are teeming with traffic and people, all going about their normal business.

Sara turns to look at Barry and grins. He looks utterly enthralled with the chaos around them. "Let's stash your stuff in my apartment for now--we can come back later." He nods in agreement, and soon she's driving them to the crime lab.

Sitting in the parking lot, she hesitates before getting out.

"Is everything all right?" His concern touches her, as it always does.

"Yes--it's just a little strange to be here as a visitor."

He takes her hand, squeezing it comfortingly, before they head into the building.


lvpd_sidle: (Default)
Sara Sidle

March 2008

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