Disclaimer: Never have and more than likely never will own anything in this that you recognize. Not even Nick.

A/N: Hello everyone! Guess what! I'm not dead! Woohoo! This is a WIP and from the feel of things, it's going to be a long one. I hope we make it through. Anyway, you may have to be patient with me along the way, sometimes more than others depending on the writer's block, but I as least wanted to give you this little teaser and regain some of your interest. Thanks so much for your support guys. You rock. Sask, as always, thanks for all your words of wisdom.


Sara hated airports nearly as much as she hated flying. Not because of the congestion around the baggage corral. Large crowds surprisingly didn't bother her much, despite being a self-proclaimed claustrophobic. Nor did the vague directions the signs pointed her in, guiding her through the arrivals terminal at McCarran; she had, after all, lived in the city for a number of years, and had been through the airport several times. Not even the airport security, marching around on condescending power trips, their chests puffed out and noses in the air, perturbed her. She simply paid them no mind. All these things she could deal with.

What got to her was the loneliness. All around her people were embracing, whether being welcomed home or kissed goodbye. As per usual, she had no one. The emptiness and longing was something she was never able to overcome. No smiling face to greet her, no arms to fall into. At least, not anymore.

A small body crashed into her legs, jarring her from her melancholy thoughts. She staggered a bit then turned to see two large brown eyes staring up at her in surprise.

"Holly!" a voice called, and Sara looked around to see a man coming towards her. He reached the little girl and scooped her up, scolding lightly, "Holly, what did Mommy and Daddy say about running off?" The child ducked her head under her father's chin and jammed her thumb in her mouth.

The man glanced at Sara. "Sorry about that," he said hurriedly, trying to adjust the strap of a diaper bag slung over his shoulder and balance the toddler in his arms. "She's just really started walking and sometimes it's hard to get her to stop."

"That's fine," Sara said, offering a tight smile. Feeling the standard tug on her heart, she touched the little girl's head. "You have a beautiful daughter."

"Thank you," the man gushed, then suddenly spotted someone over Sara's shoulder. "Look Holly, there's Nana!" They were gone as quickly as they had come.

Sara heaved a sigh and slung her long coat over one arm, grabbing her suitcase with the other. Painstakingly she made her way through the throngs of people to the rental car desk. She nodded to the clerk behind the counter when the middle-aged woman held up an overly manicured finger. Smoothing a hand over her hair, Sara rested her arms on the high counter. Absentmindedly she listened to the boarding calls transmitted over the intercom while waiting for the clerk, whose nametag identified her as Mindy, to finish her conversation on the phone.

"Jackass," Mindy muttered, snapping her gum and replacing the receiver. "Sorry about that. How can I help you, hon?"

Sara quickly filled out the required paperwork, paying for the rental with her government issued credit card. One of the perks of working for the FBI, these seminars and all accommodations were paid for by the Bureau. Our tax dollars at work, she thought mirthlessly. Mindy handed her a receipt and instructed her where to go to pick up her car. Sara hefted her suitcase up again and made a beeline for the door, anxious to escape the stagnant air and droning noise of the terminal.

Exiting through the automatic doors, she was nearly overwhelmed by the afternoon desert heat that confronted her. Somehow she had nearly forgotten just how hot and arid the Vegas air could be. She was grateful that the air-conditioning was going strong when she climbed behind the wheel of her newly acquired, non-descript sedan.

Slipping her sunglasses over her eyes, she drove away from the bustle of the airport, directly into the heavy traffic heading north into Las Vegas. Cars crawled along the interstate, seeming to shimmer mirage-like in the heat.

Sara double-checked the address of the hotel just off the Strip where she had a reservation and made her way there from memory. Pleased with herself for not needing to check the map she had picked up at the rental car counter just in case, she eased the car into the parking lot of the Southway Inn.

After checking in went over without a fuss, she stepped into the modest room and dropped her suitcase by the small dresser. Tossing her coat and purse on one of the room's two beds, she laid down on the other and stared at the white ceiling, subconsciously counting the tiles. She glanced at the green numbers displayed on the clock radio and debated taking a nap but quickly decided against it. Better to adjust to the little bit of jetlag as soon as possible. The conference didn't start until the following day anyway; she could get a good sleep that night if her body was willing.

She stood and opened the drab curtains, allowing the bright sunlight into the room and stared down at the tiny patch of the Strip that her view allowed. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she mulled over what she could do with herself for the rest of the day. The casinos didn't really appeal to her since she'd never had the luck that seemed to shine on some people. Of course there was always a show to take in, but really the idea of going alone was rather depressing.

After flicking through all the channels the room had to offer and finding nothing worth subjecting herself to, she finally opted to just go for a drive to get out of the seclusion of her room if nothing else. Her therapist was always telling her how she really shouldn't spend so much time isolated from the rest of the world. Hell, people had been telling her that her whole life. As she pulled a fresh t-shirt over her head she wondered, as she often did, why she was paying him two hundred dollars an hour to tell her the exact same thing. Before leaving she looked through her carry-on, found her brush and ran it through her hair, tying it up off her neck.

She decided to go by her old neighborhood. It was a nice, suburban area with parks nearby, which was why she had chosen to live there years ago. A good place for walks or jogs, away from the noisy flurry of activity that was downtown. Sara found a place to park in the shade on a side street. Remote locking the doors with a satisfying beep, she shoved her hands in her pockets and started to walk at a leisurely pace. Her eyes took note of the slight changes that had taken place since she'd lived there; a renovated house here, a tree removed there, a pothole which had wreaked havoc on her suspension in the past that had finally been filled.

Forty-five minutes later, crossing the street to avoid the spray of a lawn sprinkler, she found herself passing by the local elementary school. The yard was quiet save for a few small kids on the play structure; school was evidently still in session. As Sara followed the chain link fence around a corner, she watched a little boy wearing a bright red ball-cap awkwardly climb a rope ladder to the top tier of the structure and plop himself down at the top of a long red tube-slide.

"Watch me Daddy! Watch me!" he called, waving his little arms frantically at his father who sat on a bench near where Sara had stopped to watch.

Sure that he had his dad's attention, the boy scooted himself forward until gravity took over and sent him shooting down the slide fast enough for him to fly off the end, landing flat on his butt in the soft sand with a startled look on his face. His father laughed heartily, and Sara froze, her heart skipping a beat.

"Good job, buddy!" he called, his back still turned to her. Standing from the bench he clapped his hands a few times in applause. "You're alright. Come on get up. 'Atta boy. Do it again."

It was him. She was sure of it, recognizing him now.

"Nick." She spoke before she even realized it, so taken off guard by seeing him there, not ten feet away.

He heard his name and whirled around immediately wearing a friendly smile, eyebrows raised expectantly. When he saw her, his face slowly went slack in shock. Quickly he pulled his sunglasses from his eyes as though the action itself would help clarify what he was seeing. "Sara."

Some silver was starting to show at his temples, more laugh lines appeared around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes and he was sporting a goatee, but otherwise he was the same Nick she had left behind. Sara didn't know what to do, torn between launching herself at him and running away as fast as her legs would carry her. Instead she stood there stunned, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Sara Sidle," he repeated. For a split second, Sara could have sworn she saw a deep anger flare in his dark eyes but it was quickly extinguished, replaced by a familiar sparkle as his grin slowly reappeared. "Is that really you?"

Words found their way to her mouth. "Hello, Nick."

"Goddamn. It's, uh, wow...good to see you," he said. Sara was touched to see he meant it. "Really good."

He stepped forward and formerly offered his hand. She took it carefully, at once remembering the sensation of the roughened skin of his palm on hers and her entire body warmed. Tentatively, Nick leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. Sara turned her face to his on reflex and for a heart stopping second their lips brushed. Nick quickly pulled back, letting her hand fall. He dropped his eyes and cleared his throat.

Embarrassed, Sara was straining to think about something to say, anything to end the awful silence that had fallen. Nick beat her to it.

"So..." His mind raced through the million and one questions he wanted to ask her all at once. "Uh, where... have you been?" He was staring at her now, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for an explanation that was clearly owed to him. God, where did she start?

Mercifully, she was interrupted when the small boy that had first caught her attention appeared between them. His fist had a secure hold on Nick's jeans.

"Daddy, who's that?" he asked, squinting up at her.

"Uh, this is my friend Sara," Nick said, stooping down to pick his boy up and settled him on his hip. He absently brushed sand off the chest of his overalls. "Can you say hi?"

"Hi," he said obediently with a shy smile, wrapping his arms tightly around his dad's neck.

"Sara. This is my son, Benjamin," Nick introduced. He spoke lightly, but the hesitant if not cautious undertone didn't go unnoticed by either of them.

"Your son," she whispered softly. His eyes met hers, a shared pain reflected in them. Sara gave herself a mental shake; no need to go there. No need whatsoever. Steeling herself she smiled at the child. "It's nice to meet you Benjamin."