Author's Note: This is the last of the flashback chapters, and it's on the slightly longer end, if you compare it to the previous chapters. Everything after this point will be present-day.
Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me, but to the people who originally created them. Special thanks to my beta, Joe, for looking over this for me and making sure it was the best I could make it. Reviews make my day!
As a crowd of grumpy, yet tan, tourists from Hawaii filtered into the baggage claim, Sara and Nick looked at each other for a few minutes, not speaking, allowing for the unspoken tension to dissipate first. Nick could have sworn that her eyes were puffy from crying. He knew better than to make mention of it, not knowing her emotional state. "So...what do you say we get out of here? Want me to take these bags for you?" he asked, already reaching over to pick the larger of the two off the chair.
She shook her head, allowing for her hair to fall over her face. "No. I'll take them, if you don't mind," she quickly stated, taking the handles of both bags and lifting at the same time. Nick couldn't help but let out a low laugh as Sara attempted to balance both bags and walk at the same time. She glared, and tried harder, however, the harder she tried, the more both bags threatened to spill out over the ground.
"Here. Let me take one," he said, easing the handles out from her grasp. As they made their way to the car, neither of them spoke, and instead, they focused on not being run over by crazy airport drivers with no regard for the speed limit, or basic traffic rules in general.
Nick smiled as Sara sat next to him in his car. "So, Sara, how about breakfast?" he asked. "You'd have to be hungry after traveling, I'd assume. My treat."
She nodded gratefully. "By the time we landed, all of the restaurants were closed, so I haven't eaten since my flight. Thanks, Nicky."
"My pleasure."
-two days before-
Paul looked over the desk at Sara Sidle, the woman he had come to know, and become quite annoyed by, if he was being honest with himself, over the past three and a half months. Every day, she either called or came into his office at the embassy, asking for any new leads on the disappearance of one Gilbert Grissom, her fiancé. He felt for her, he did, it couldn't be an easy situation, however, every day was the same answer.
"No, Ms. Sidle, we don't have any new leads," he said, exhaling. "To be honest with you, we haven't had any leads from the start. It's almost as though your Mr. Grissom has, indeed, vanished into thin air."
Sara buried her head in her hands, letting out loud, racking sobs. The past three and a half months had been a drain on her, both emotionally and financially. She had tried to hold it together, appear strong for the embassy officials, and it was just too much for her now.
"Now, we can try something. You said that both of you were from Las Vegas, Nevada, right?" he continued, attempting not to allow her sudden burst of emotion to affect his work. "We've been in contact with some of your former colleagues, a Ms. Catherine Willows and a Mr. Jim Brass, in particular, regarding any potential leads either of them may have. Unfortunately, neither of them could tell me anything we didn't already know."
She looked up for a moment. "You talked to Catherine and Brass?" she asked, an air of incredulity cloaked around her words.
He nodded and took off his glasses, cleaning them with the tail of his shirt. Clearing his breath, he continued. "As I said, they knew nothing more than either of us did. I have a proposal for you, however."
"He followed me down here, and I know that if the situation was reversed, he wouldn't stop searching until he had answers," she said, casting her line of eyesight downward, connecting with a ball of dust perched against one desk leg. "What's your proposal?"
"Go back to Las Vegas. If something turns up down here, I will be sure to make contact with you, but it's very possible he could have gone back to the States without you knowing anything about it," Paul said, sighing. "At any rate, it would allow for us to cover more ground more effectively."
Sara was taken aback by his suggestion, and her shock clearly registered on her face. Going back to Las Vegas would mean facing everyone she had left behind, and answering questions she wasn't particularly sure she wanted to answer, now if not ever. At the same time, she could see the logic behind the suggestion, and was almost surprised she hadn't thought of it herself at some point.
Opening her mouth to speak, she was surprised by the words that came out. "I'll do it."
"Splendid. You'll leave first thing in the morning," he said, firmly shaking her hand. "Goodbye Ms. Sidle, I hope the next time we talk, it's under much more pleasant circumstances."
-one day before-
Sara had not slept well the night before, and neither of her first two flights had been smooth enough to allow her to catch up on her sleep while in the air. She found herself sitting at her final gate, waiting for her flight that would take her to Las Vegas. Thoughts flitted through her mind regarding what she would do once they landed. There was no apartment to go back to, and with her mostly-depleted bank account, she likely wouldn't have the money for more than a night or two in a motel room. No, she'd have to do something else.
"Final boarding call for United Flight 864, departing for Las Vegas," a crackly female voice over the intercom said. Sara rose from her chair, arching her back and taking ahold of her carry-ons. Handing her boarding pass to the smiling flight attendant, she let out a deep sigh. One more flight, just over an hour to go and the journey would be over. She'd be home again, whether she liked the idea or not.
Over two plates of blueberry pancakes and cups of coffee, Nick talked, while Sara made an attempt to listen. However, the events of the past few months, specifically the last few days, had caught up with her, and she found herself drifting off in thought. "And then Greg opened the door...Sara? Are you listening?"
She absent-mindedly dragged her fork through a puddle of syrup. "I told him to leave," she said, not realizing she had said it out loud. "I told him to leave, and he did, and this is all my fault, Nicky. I'm ruining the nice breakfast we were having, just like I ruined everything down in Costa Rica. I should just go." She made a motion to stand up, but before she could, Nick cut her off.
"Sara, I'm going to take you back to my apartment, and you're going to take a shower, and then you are going to sleep. There is no use for you to make any rash decisions when you haven't slept in over a day," he said gently. "Waitress, check, please!"
-a few hours before-
After the bird carcass was cleared from the runway, it had been an extremely uneventful flight to Las Vegas, which Sara was grateful for. She gathered her luggage from the carousel and sat down in a nearby chair, debating on whether to get a motel room for the night or wing it in the baggage claim until daylight. A couple walked by, holding hands and occasionally kissing. "Oh, Gris, I...I wish you...were here..." she thought to herself, finally allowing for the tears she had been holding back to flow freely. Decisions would have to wait for now.
The car ride to Nick's apartment was brief, though the steady rocking motion of the car had lulled Sara into an uneasy sleep. It wasn't the first time he had seen her sleep, nor would it be the last, considering he had invited her into his apartment indefinitely. He didn't know what had gone on between her and Grissom, except that it sounded fairly serious, but he figured that once she had a few hours of sleep in her that she would be more willing to talk things out with him.
When he pulled into his regular parking space, she was still asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he unbuckled her seatbelt for her and gently picked her up, carrying her out of the car and into his apartment. Laying her down on the couch and draping a lightweight blanket over her, he tucked her in for a morning's worth of sleep. "Sweet dreams, Sara," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her forehead, as he retreated into his bedroom to make a phone call to the lab. Sara, he decided, came first.