"Is that a promise?
"That's a prophecy."
…
Sara listens to Jax walk away and shakes her head. The kid's grown up.
Kid. She snorts. He's not that much younger than she is. But she doesn't feel that way. These days, she often feels ancient.
"Don't know why you're so obsessed with this...captains-don't-leave-people-behind thing." The smoky drawl from behind her raises goosebumps on her arms. "I mean, good ol' Rip left people behind all the time. Mick. Raymond. Kendra. You. Me."
If she turns, he'll be sitting right there by the door, right where she's seen him sprawl countless times before. "If you're going to haunt me, you could try to be less of a jerk about it."
"But I am a jerk." She can hear him getting to his feet. How can she hear a ghost moving? "Thought we'd established that."
"True." She can't resist; she turns around. And there he is, smirk and black jacket and blue eyes, looking right at her. As she has before, she closes her eyes, opens them. Still there.
Oh, Leonard.
"I'm the captain now," she tells him. "Not Rip. And I don't leave people..."
She can't finish the sentence. Not and look into those blue eyes. She turns away.
"...behind." He finishes it anyway. "You left me behind."
"You didn't give me much choice. Any choice!" She rounds on him. Even the specter takes a step back, and she takes an odd satisfaction in that. "I had how long...you gave me how long...to size the situation up? Seconds. If I'd stayed, if I'd tried to help you, three of us would have died. I didn't have any choice." She takes a deep breath. "Not really."
Leonard's shade gazes back at her. "Well," he drawls, "I guess I should just be grateful you did stay for a moment, am I right? That was a hell of a kiss."
Her face burns at the heat in his voice, the memory, and she turns away, bracing herself on a crate and taking a shaky breath.
"Go away, Len," she tells him, but there's no conviction in the words. "You're not really here. I can't think about you, not and do my job."
Then he's right there with her, right behind her. She can feel warm breath on her neck, his arms, his hands, the tiniest fraction of an inch from her arms, can feel the hairs rising...
"But you still dream about it, don't you?" She can feel the whisper in her ear. "In the night, when you're alone. That kiss. Me...and you..."
"Sara? Sara! Where'd you go?"
And he's gone. No warmth behind her. Just a chill that makes her wonder, yet again, if she's losing her mind.
And if it just might be worth it.
"Just a second, Ray. I'll be right there."
Back to work.