CSI universe short prompts

6- Nick Stokes/Sara Sidle

The Las Vegas night was a tapestry of neon and shadows, and Nick Stokes found himself standing outside Sara Sidle's apartment. The air held a hint of jasmine, and he wondered if she'd left her window open. They'd been partners for years—solving crimes, chasing leads—but tonight felt different.

Sara opened the door, her hair tousled from sleep. "Nick?" she murmured, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He hesitated, then stepped inside. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Thought maybe you couldn't either."

She led him to the couch, and they sat in companionable silence. The city buzzed beyond the window, but here, in this dimly lit room, time slowed. Nick watched the rise and fall of Sara's chest, the way her fingers traced invisible patterns on her thigh.

"You're not alone," she said softly. "I can't sleep either."

He leaned closer, their shoulders brushing. "Why?"

Sara's gaze met his. "Too many ghosts," she confessed. "Cases we couldn't solve, lives we couldn't save."

Nick understood. The weight of their job pressed on them—the victims, the families, the unanswered questions. But tonight, they were just two souls seeking solace.

"Remember that case," Nick began, "the one with the missing girl? We worked it for weeks."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. We found her body in the desert."

He took her hand. "I couldn't shake it—the guilt, the what-ifs."

Sara's fingers tightened around his. "We did everything we could," she said. "Sometimes it's not enough."

Nick leaned in, his lips brushing her temple. "Maybe we need to find our own closure," he whispered.

And then, without thinking, he kissed her—a gentle press of lips, a promise. Sara responded, her mouth soft and warm. It was a kiss born of shared pain, of late nights and coffee-stained files.

They pulled away, breathless. "Nick," Sara said, "what are we doing?"

He traced her jawline. "Sleeping in," he replied. "Together."

And so, they lay side by side, tangled in sheets, their bodies seeking refuge. Nick listened to Sara's steady breathing, the rhythm of her heart. For once, the ghosts retreated, replaced by something fragile and real.

As dawn painted the sky, Nick whispered, "I've wanted this for a long time."

Sara nestled closer. "Me too."

And there, in the quiet of morning, they found their peace—a haven in each other's arms. The city outside faded, and all that remained was Nick, Sara, and the promise of a new day.