A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and especially those who review…things are heating up, and Sara's insecurities seem to be getting the best of her…hang on, as help is only a chapter or two away…hope you enjoy this update…more in two days…take care, Kathy

Sara opened her eyes which felt heavy from the tears that continued past her nightmare.

She was sure it was the echo of her screaming pleas that reverberated through the silence of their bedroom.

Their bedroom. Looking around at everything in the room that reminded her of the husband she loved only made the shivers from that nightmare increase.

Looking down, she found the reason for some of her physical discomfort as her dress lay tightly wound against her hips in direct testament to the night she'd spent tossing and turning through the tumult of her dreams.

She closed her eyes, wishing to shake off the impressions left from the stark images of her dream.

She was peering through the pattern of thick lace curtains, but could see no movement in the rooms before her.

The door opened on its own volition, as she found herself floating in the way dreamwalks do.

Hearing the clink of china and a smattering of hushed voices, Sara felt herself propelled forward without her bidding.

Trying to raise her voice to announce her presence, she found herself mute as her body turned the corner.

The room smelled of violets and the darkness of the dream's edges only served to highlight the Victorian charm of the setting.

The clink of china again brought her attention to the lavishly set table for two between the billowing curtains showcasing the opened window and the silken setting of the large poster bed with its bedding tousled as if to tell the story of the previous night's activities.

The sound repeated itself as a bare, ivory-skinned back stretched from its sedentary position in the center of the bed to replace the imported china teapot onto the bedside table.

Following the movement, Sara heard a gasp and quickly realized it had not escaped from her own lips.

Recognition of its owner caused Sara to lose her balance and lean a bit heavily on the opened doorway.

That movement caused the owner of that shivering sound to turn and look Sara up and down with obvious disdain.

Turning back around, the woman started to raise herself up in an action Sara expected would cause the woman to leave the bed and then bring them face-to-face in the doorway.

Instead, the lanky form immediately sat back down a bit forcefully only to repeat the motion of rising to her knees.

To Sara's horror she watched it happen again and again.

The clink of a teacup being set onto a saucer drew Sara's attention to the other occupant of that scene whose view had been blocked by Heather's movements.

To her horror, it was Gil's face that appeared - with eyes half-lidded in an ecstatic expression that up to now Sara felt had been for her private view.

She watched as Heather continued while Gil pressed the teacup to his lips before sipping slowly as he watched the dance doing magic to his body.

Sara felt sick, but her feet were like concrete blocks that refused to move.

Yet, Gil seemed to be nothing more than relaxed, almost observing rather than experiencing what was happening to him.

Finally, he rolled over enough to place the cup and saucer on the table, in effect pinning Heather beneath him.

He was now poised with his strong arms on either side of Heather's amazing body, and his stance kept her connected to him…but he did not move.

Instead, he turned his head and spoke directly to Sara in that familiar tone which was neither placating nor understanding.

"Where were you, Sara? I wanted you. I chose you. Why wasn't that enough for you?"

With that, Sara couldn't bear the sight any longer as her fingers clawed the doorway in an attempt to release her from this spot.

She cried and she scratched but the nightmare held her in place.

She only managed to exhaust herself when all the while she heard the sounds of pleasure increase in pounding crescendo just inches from where she stood.

Sara clamped her eyes shut, continued her arms' frantic movements, tried to shut out the memories of how Gil looked and sounded when he was near his own climax.

In her horror the images blended with the sounds of him bringing Heather to the edge and back again and again and again and again, all the while shouting for Gil to stop…please, stop…please, just stop…please, don't do this…don't make me stay here…don't leave me here…don't…don't leave me…

Sara forcefully pulled herself out of bed, breathing hard as she tried to regain her composure.

She couldn't shake the accusing images of the nightmare from her head.

She needed to talk to Gil.

She needed to hear his voice, to know he was still in Peru…

That he was not with Heather.

Sara clutched the phone from her handbag and shook impatiently for service before hitting her speed dial to connect her with her husband.

She was feeling alone and scared, her heart pounding as if it would soon break.

So when the cell phone chirped that the customer was not in calling range, tears burst forth, and she pitched the cell against the wall without thought to damaging it.

Trying to relax herself, Sara willed her pulse to slow by closing her eyes and concentrating on deep breathing.

The sound of the house phone startled her, and immediately she raced to pick up the receiver.

"Gil?"

"Uh, no…it's Philip…is everything alright, Sarabelle?"

With that, Sara collapsed against the wall and tried to shake the tears from her voice.

But Philip was not fooled by her response.

"Sara…listen…you're not alright, are you? Meet me…or…or let me come to you…"

"I have work –" she began, but Philip was having none of it.

"Take some time off…meet me for a drink before the next lecture…I have about 2 hours…"

Philip preyed on her hesitation.

"Listen…take tonight off and then we'll have dinner…and talk…like old times…"

A calm was settling on Sara's face at the reassuring tones of her old friend, but before she could speak Philip added in a singsong voice, "If you're really good, I'll let you take me to the airrr-pooort…"

Shaking her head as a giggle escaped, Sara agreed and upon deciding on a meeting place after the lecture she hung up the phone and looked at her hand on the receiver before moving it to hug herself tightly as she stood against the wall.

Ring…please, Gil…

She would never be sure how long she stood there before finally sinking to the floor and pulling herself over to where her cell phone lay against the wall.

Catherine's voice picked up on the first ring, "Hey, Sara! I was just thinking about you!"

Sara's mind was unfocused and didn't think to ask what those thoughts were about.

Instead, she simply said, "Hi, uh, okay…listen, Cath…I'm…not going to come in tonight."

A slight pause before Catherine asked in a concerned tone, "You ok?"

Am I okay? No, I'm not okay. I have weird dreams that I can't shake, my husband is out of sight and out of range of his cell phone, I think I'm losing my mind, I am feeling overwhelmed just like after-

"Sara?"

Catherine's increased worry cut through Sara's mental ramblings.

"Listen, Cath…I'm not going to come in tonight."

A short pause. "Sar-, is everything alright?"

Breathing deeply as she cursed the thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone, Sara straightened a bit and replied, "I'm fine."

Before Catherine could acknowledge all the warning bells that were going off in her head at the phrase she had grown accustomed to not hearing, Sara continued.

"I just have something to do tonight…will this leave you short?" she asked, already feeling guilty about her request.

"No, Sara…we're okay…listen, Brass is here, can you hold on a minute?"

Sara could hear some murmurs and when Catherine returned it was hard not to hear the undertones of something in her voice.

"Listen, Sara…how about a compromise? Can I loan you to swing just for tomorrow's shift? Brass just-" Sara could hear the other end muffled as if a hand suddenly were over the receiver.

"Listen, Sara…can you get here at 5 tomorrow afternoon? I won't need you here early, don't come early…just, uh, come in at 5 and report straight to my office."

"You'll still be there?" Sara asked, confused as that was usually hours before Catherine was due to report for the graveyard shift.

"I will," Catherine said almost distractedly, and for the first time Sara wondered if she had caught her supervisor at a bad time.

"Listen, I gotta go. So, just remember, take tonight off and be in my office at 5pm sharp tomorrow."

"Okay, then. Thanks, Cath," Sara spoke only to find herself speaking to dead air.

Now that she had the night free, she walked back into the bedroom to prepare for a shower when her eyes fell on the tangled bedsheets before her.

Images from her nightmare flew before her eyes, and Sara moved like a madwoman to strip the bed and comforter only to throw them into the laundry room, shutting the door soundly.

It took a while to place new bedding and a new comforter and shams on the bed, but when she was finished Sara felt like the activity had given her some distance from the troubling thoughts that the dream had given her.

Showered quickly, Sara spent a little more time on her makeup and outfit.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she suddenly felt much better about herself and was surprised to see a soft smile reflected back at her.

Picking up the cell, she tried again but failed to get past the "out of service area' message. A quick check online also declared that avenue of communication a dead end.

Sighing, she grabbed her purse before glancing at the time.

If she was going to make that lecture, she better hurry.

Although crowded, Sara found a side-aisle seat near the front of the hall.

Just as she was settling in, a bouncy thud next to her caused her to turn and let out a small gasp of surprise.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you on tonight?" Sara asked with a chuckle as Tessa settled in next to her.

"I saw you come in. I didn't know you were coming tonight!" the lab tech smiled excitedly.

"Well, I'm going to be assigned to swing tomorrow, so I have tonight off," Sara spoke the incomplete truth with a smile.

"Oh, well I have to go-, you see my sister has two rugrats and I have to watch them tonight, so I took a vacation day," Tessa added as she looked directly into Sara's eyes.

"What are you doing after the lecture?" the blonde asked as she pulled out her copy of Philip's first novel.

Sara had to chuckle at the action, and Tessa had the grace to blush slightly.

"Thought he just might sign this one for me, too," she offered, and Sara couldn't help but laugh at her.

Sitting with Tessa was really making Sara smile; this girl could certainly give Greg a run for his money in that department.

"So? After the lecture?" Tessa added, and Sara wondered if her friend was itching for another up-close-and-personal audience.

"We're just going to dinner. I'm going to take him to the airport tomorrow," Sara answered and she could see the wheels turning in Tessa's head.

"Then…off to work for me?" she added with emphasis, as if to cut off any suggestion of a tagalong to the airport.

Tessa sighed as she got the message, and with a shrug both women smiled as they turned for the start of the lecture.

Later that night, Philip and Sara found themselves once again before the elevator call buttons.

"Come up with me…we can sleep tomorrow after I leave…let's…let's just pull an allnighter and solve the world's problems until the sun comes up."

Shaking her head with a laugh, Sara paused with her hand flat on Philip's chest.

"You've been a godsend to me, Philip. I'll miss you when you go back tomorrow," Sara said honestly.

Philip tugged on her arms, refusing to release her as the elevator doors opened.

"Philip," Sara laughed, but went willingly.

He was the perfect gentleman on the ride up, but when the doors opened Philip threatened to throw her over his shoulder if she didn't come in for at least one drink.

They were laughing all the way to his door, which he unlocked with great ceremony causing Sara to giggle and smile as she brushed past him into his hotel suite.

That night they talked of many things, including the college's homecoming set for two weeks away.

"How come you've never gone back?" Philip asked from his position splayed out across the comfortable couch.

Shrugging, Sara pulled up her stocking-clad feet under her as she sat across from him in the chair near the open window.

Gazing out over the panoramic view of the city, she turned suddenly with an impish grin.

"And how do you know I haven't gone back?" she added with a glare.

"Easy…I've gone back every year looking for you," Philip responded with an easy air.

"Every year."

Only a nod of his head in response.

"Just to look for me."

Another nod, as if to say it was no big deal.

Turning away before her head snapped back, Sara spoke quietly, "That's probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

Philip's smile was bright, but his eyes were heavy.

Stifling a yawn, he implored, "Please…come this year. Bring Gil, if he's home. Or come alone. Just…come."

Sara sat silently with a myriad of thoughts beginning a parade that soon was confusing her tired brain.

"I haven't seen him there in years, Sara…he hardly ever comes anymore, " Philip said softly, as if her thoughts were transparent.

Her eyes closed at the slight shudder that enveloped her system at the mere thought of coming face to face with Ken Fuller after all these years.

"Even if he's there, Sara…I'll be sure to keep him away…I'll protect you, Sarabelle."

She opened her lids to find security in Philip's gaze.

"Just…think about it. Promise?"

At this point of hours until this old friend departed, she was finding it hard not to promise him the world.

"Promise," she said softly, pulling herself to her feet.

"Nooo…please stay," Philip said with eyes closed shut as a yawn graced his tired face.

"Going home, buddy…call me when you check out, we'll have lunch and head over to the airport," Sara said quietly as she could see sleep yanking him under its spell.

A soft kiss to his forehead after covering him with a blanket from the back of the couch.

"Sleep well, Philip."

No response was heard as she let herself out.

Sara wrestled with her shoes outside Philip's door for a minute, cursing herself for not pulling them on when she was seated.

A glimpse in the polished surface of the elevator doors reflected that she was a bit disheveled from having made herself comfortable on the suite's overstuffed fabric chair.

The empty hallway bore witness to the noise of the elevator doors clicking closed… as a matching sound then echoed from the door to the stairwell at the end of the corridor.