There were days when she was ambivalent about it. There were days when she welcomed it, because it gave her a little bit of extra time to prepare for the day. There were also days it just irritated and frustrated her, because she was already running late or because she was already annoyed.

But now, well, now the New York traffic just plain pissed her off. Of course, her already racing heartbeat wasn't doing her any good at the moment either. Then there were the thousands of possibilities that swam and soared chaotically through her mind and it wasn't until it broke, that Sara realized she was biting her nail – a nasty habit her mother had made her quit years and years ago.

Fuck.

Sara cleared her throat and sat up straight in an attempt to gather herself together. It wasn't doing anybody any good being this worried and stressed out.

But then, as if both halves of her brain refused to give up on their never ending rivalry, she was reminded again of why she was in the cab in the first place. Just a half an hour ago Sara was dealing both with feelings of excitement for her new job as well as feelings of sadness for the place and people that made her home for the past few years. Standing at the check-in desk with both hands in her bag, looking for her damned ticket and passport – she was sure she had put them in her day planner, as she has been doing all her life, and now of all times they had to slip out and fall into the depths of her overfull purse – Sara had felt her phone vibrate and a glance at the screen had informed her it was Neal calling. She made a mental note to call him back after checking in and a smile had crept over her frowned face as she thought of how that conversation was going to go ("Miss me already, Caffrey?"). After finally retrieving the travel papers and checking in, Sara had grabbed her cell out of her purse and noticed Neal had left her a voice message: "Sara – I… Everything is just….-" A pained, almost wimper-like, shudder of an exhale was all she got before a loud beep rudely cut Neal's voice off.

For a moment Sara was frozen on spot, her heart had dropped to her feet and it wasn't until some running kid almost knocked her over, that she snapped out of her trance.

What.

The.

Hell.

As she turned on her heels and made a beeline towards the exit, Sara ignored the jumble of unanswered and unformed questions in her head. She knew what she had to do, even if she didn't know what was going on. Once she was inside the cab she tried, multiple times, to call him back, but it went straight to voicemail. To her frustration, so did Peter's. It had left left Sara holding on to her Blackberry till her knuckles turned white while staring obsessively at the screen.

When the car finally pulled up at June's house, Sara simultaneously threw money in the direction of the driver's hand and opened the door to get out. As soon as one of June's servants opened the door, Sara ran towards the stairs, prepping for her ascend by hiking her pencil skirt up her thighs so that when she reached the first step, she could fly.

"Neal?!" She called out his name as she approached his apartment and pushed the door open only to find him sitting saggy on one of the chairs at the dinner table, loosely holding a glass of something that looked like water, but by Neal's appearance, Sara assumed, was not.

Sara, relieved that at least he was physically all right, let out a deep breath and with it, most of the weight on her shoulders. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her and allowed her mind some time to comfort her heart: Yes, he was right here in front of her and no, there was no blood or bandages or any sign of physical damage. She drank him in and that's when she saw his still wet lashes and the dried tearstains on his cheeks.

"Neal.." her voice almost a plea.

Neal just got up, put his glass down on the table and, without taking his gaze off her, stalked over to her. When he reached her, he didn't waste time. Placing his hands on either side of her face he pulled her to him as he bent his head and took her lips to his. His eyelids pressed close and he drew a deep breath through his nose, urgently and fiercely devouring her lips with his own, wanting to forget all else but the feel of her on him. Though hesitant at first, Sara quickly obliged, sensing this was no time for talking and just a time for being. His harshness, though, was something new and as he bit her lower lip, Sara had to force herself not to back away and ask questions. For now, this is what he needed and this, she could give him.

Neal moved, backing Sara up against the door, one of his hands sliding to the nape of her neck and fisting in her hair, holding her head in place while his other hand traveled south over her body to the small of her back to push her closer to him. She fit exactly to his body and he loved the feel of it, it was almost as obvious as an audible 'click' when they were this close. It made sense and it was a place he could go to when nothing else seemed to make sense. An escape. The perfect escape.

Though Neal was mostly a gentle lover, Sara was no stranger to rough times between the sheets with Neal. Their love making was never boring and always got her off. But there was something different about this time. It's as if she could almost hear him ask her to never leave his side, to never let go of this moment right here, right now. It made the adrenaline in her body come together in a knot in her stomach and her heart swell till her knees gave out. Neal wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and held her up, moving from her lips to her jawline, to her ear, her neck and her shoulder where she grazed the end of it with his front teeth, knowing this drove her mad.

Knowing exactly where this was headed and not wanting to go in that direction just yet, Sara placed her hands on Neal's head to pull him back up to her lips. And that's where she felt the warmth of a fallen tear.

She pulled away to get a good look and tell him to talk to her, but she couldn't. For the first time in the seven years she's known Neal, Sara felt like she could see all of him. There was no searching for the untold truth or the motives or the angles; it was all there. And it was true. It broke her heart so him this broken and it stung her eyes to see him this bared. Placing her hands on the back of his head she pulled him and hugged him tightly while he let his head rest on her shoulder.

They stayed that way until Sara felt his heartbeat slower and his breathing evening out. She then gently placed a kiss on his temple, slowly breaking their embrace as she left a trail of suchlike kisses on his jawline until she reached his lips.

When they opened their eyes, Sara was glad to see that his eyes weren't baring his soul anymore. They just told her he was feeling desperate, alone, tired and maybe even scared. She took his hand in his and led them over to the bed. Making him sit down on the edge, Sara bent down to his feet and started taking his shoes and socks off one by one. Changing positions and sitting on her knees to reach higher, she undid his already loosened tie and pulled it off. Then went to work on the buttons of his shirt, his cufflinks and undressed his shirt. She gently pushed against is shoulders, urging him to lie down, which he didn't.

"Sara-," he started, but she placed her index finger on his lips, quieting him.

"Sshh," she comforted, "no talking."

"But-," one warningly look from her was enough for him to swallow his words. Besides, he was tired, too tired to fight. With any one. About anything. He thought he'd seen bottom after Kate died, but this was different. This was as if his whole world died. Everything he believed in, every little, insignificant spark of hope that had managed to free itself out of the barbed wired, iron box he reserved for hopes and dreams. How could this happen? How could his entire world change in one hour? How could he have a partner, a father, a lover – a family – one minute, and have nothing the next? He never imagined he could feel this drained. If it weren't for Sara's touches and grazes across his skin causing his senses to stir, Neal imagined he would have passed out, out of fatigue (or, maybe, perhaps, too much vodka).

"Lay down, baby," Sara pushed his shoulder more urgent this time and Neal obliged, falling sideways to his pillow. Sara lifted his legs on the bed and continued stripping him of his pants. She made sure he was covered and comfortable before focusing on herself. Stripping firstly from her heels, her feet were killing her after the race up the stairs, but she hadn't had time to realize until now. Her freed feet all but cried in joy as they touched the cool hardwood floors. Leaving on her panties and bra, Sara picked up the shirt she just stripped off Neal and shrugged it on. Then she made course to the kitchenette, opening a cupboard to get a large glass which she filled with lukewarm water. Then, going over to the fridge, she grabbed two bottles of water, needing to make sure Neal stayed well hydrated after drinking who knows how much vodka.

She was well aware of Neal's gaze every single one of her movements. Just as he always does and it used to make her feel cheeky and playful, wanton even. But right now it made her anxious. Why?

But there was no time to get into that right now as she placed the water on his nightstand and bent down to give in to her urge to kiss him.

Neal immediately took his chance to deepen the kiss and slide his hands on her arms to hold her in place. Sara was the one to break the kiss and welcome the gulp of fresh air.

"Come to bed," Neal mumbled, pulling her gently.

"In a sec, I need to make a few phone calls."

And then Neal remembered all of a sudden: Sara was supposed to be on a plane to London.

"Sara," he gasped in shock, "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot, I... Is it too late for you to go now?"

"Yes," Sara answered simply, "but not because I can't," she pressed another kiss on his lips as he his brain, slowed by alcohol, tried to make sense of her words. "Here, drink this, or you'll regret it in a few hours. I'll be right back."

Sara grabbed her purse off the floor and took her phone out, stepping out of the apartment she called Winston Bosch, informing him of her delay in New York. She wasn't due to start her new job in London for another two weeks, but she did have an appointment with the current President of the London Office in two days that had to be rescheduled. Luckily her boss knew her well and knew there was always a valid reason behind every single one of her actions and other than needing to know is she was alright and when their next contact will be, he didn't ask much.

When Sara returned, Neal was no longer in bed. Judging by the heaving sounds, she guessed he was in the bathroom. She walked over and found Neal on the floor next to the toilet, his head rested on his arm on the edge of the toilet. She made sure he was finished vomiting before she filled a cup of water and handed it over for him to rinse.

"I'm sorry," Neal apologized almost sheepishly.

"What'd I say about talking?"

Neal just smiled in return and moved to get up, accepting Sara's shoulder to lean on.

They made it to bed and as soon as they were under the covers, Neal pulled Sara in his arms as a way of thank you. But as he held her he realized it was for healing. He needed the click to sound again.

"Thank you," he murmured after a while.

"You're welcome."

He took a deep breath, deciding that his next action could be explained by many things in a few hours: he was drunk, he was hurt, he was exhausted, he was confused. Finding comfort in that excuse he placed he kiss on her neck, "I love you."

Neal felt Sara tense slightly beneath his embrace and her heartbeat speed up. She let go of a shaky breath and was quiet for a moment too long, making Neal almost want to blame his drinking.

"I know," she replied, "me too."

Neal smiled. Whatever was wrong with his world, whatever had left and would never come back. He had her. For right now, for right here. It was enough to start the mending process and that was what he needed. He needed to mend, get his act together to help his best friend. He squeezed her tight and took a deep breath, knowing she wont like what he's about to say.

"Peter got arrested."

Sara immediately turned around, "What?!"

Neal told her all that happened after she left for the airport, not leaving anything out, knowing his eyes would say what his tongue couldn't.

"I need to help him Sara, I need to find a way to get him out. I need to prove his innocence."

Sara nodded.

"We, Neal. You're not alone in this. We will all work together and get this straightened out. But not now, not like this. You're no help to anyone drunk and confused. Sleep."

"I need to know he's okay. They won't let me talk to him."

"I'll call Elizabeth first thing tomorrow, now go sleep."

Neal let out a deep breath, the constant weigh of worry a little bit relieved, and pressed a kiss on Sara's forehead.

Sleep didn't come easy, especially for Sara, she kept thinking about the events of this day. How could they all have been so wrong in James? Poor Neal. A lump formed in her throat just thinking about how betrayed he must feel. She could never do this to him. She could never betray him like this. How could a man do this to his own son? How could anyone do this to Neal?

A strange feeling of frustration and anger formed within her as she thought of anyone harming Neal. She backed up slowly to see his face when his grip on her tightened ever so slightly.

"Hmph… No, don't leave."

Oh God.

"I won't Neal," Sara whispered to a slumbering Neal, "I won't."

She felt it then: Click.

Hey guys!

Long time no see/hear/type/read. Been (and still am) quite busy and totally out of inspiration (boohoo). It's just that this idea would NOT leave me alone. Haunting me in my sleep and all… Seriously. So here it is, hope you like :)

Typed at one go and haven't reread, cause, well… Frankly, I just wanna sleep :P

Please review/comment/brainstorm/rant about how Sara CANNOT, WILLNOT, SHOULDNOT, oh, and CANABSOLUTELYFREAKINGNOT leave!

Soph

P.S: That finale.. Seriously? I think I'm closer to a heart attack in my early twenties because of all the emotions. Ok, bye!