"Tell me what happened while I was…gone," Leonard prompted. Sara was nestled into his side, a warm presence in the cool darkness of her room.
"I can think of better ways to pass the time," she replied lightly.
He frowned, feeling a bit of his contentment dissipate. He could tell when she was deflecting his attention…or trying to.
"What's this?" he asked, fingers dancing lightly over the puckered scar on her stomach.
Her breath hitched in her throat, then she told him, calmly and simply, "I died."
"Don't," Leonard rasped out harshly. "Don't joke about something like that." His arms tightened around her, fingers digging into her soft skin almost painfully.
Sara sighed softly. "I'm not. I died…again…and Gideon brought me back."
"How did it happen?"
Sara shifted in his arms, and pressed kiss over his heart. "I doesn't matter," she said firmly. "I survived. I'm here."
"How?" he persisted.
"Christmas 1776. Rip shot me and left me for dead. When that didn't work, he crushed my windpipe."
Leonard moved to sit up, but Sara sprawled across his chest, holding him firmly in place.
"Let me go, Sara. I am going to go kill that son of a bitch."
"Len, no. It wasn't his fault. The Legion -"
"I don't give a damn."
"No," she repeated. "I wouldn't let Jax kill him then, and I won't let you kill him now."
That bit of information moved the kid up several notches in Leonard's esteem. Rip, on the other hand… "How can you protect that bastard?"
"Like I told Jax, I'm not protecting him…I'm protecting you."
"I could have lost you."
"But you didn't." She pressed another kiss to his chest, her hair falling around her face. "We're here, and we're together, and I can think of lots better ways to spend tonight than beating Rip to a pulp over something he did while under the influence."
"It would still be very enjoyable," he protested, half-heartedly, combing his fingers through Sara's golden hair, pushing it back, so he could see her face clearly.
"Not as much as what I've got in mind," she replied with a wicked smirk.