A/N: Well, my friends, we've reached the end. I want to thank every one of you for reading, and especially those of you who reviewed, you make my day. Supersized helpings of thanks to sarapals with past50, CSIfan8686, Billyjorja, gsrfan34 and edge15684 for consistently bringing me smiles with your reviews.
I hope you enjoy :)
Sunday (Dimanche)
Breakfast was a subdued affair. They talked over their coffees and croissants, but all words were said in a hushed tone that seemed to betray what each speaker was really feeling. They knew it was coming. It was coming faster, and each passing second signaled another second together, gone.
All too soon, they were standing on the sidewalk of Charles de Gaulle, Sara's carry-on between them, each of them not wanting to say the words that had to be said.
"Gil-"
"Sara-"
They smiled as they other blurted the words at the very same time. Sara could feel the tears welling behind her eyes, a pressure building in her chest to not let them spill out. Gil smiled at her shyly. He reached out to tuck as strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers running across her shoulder, down her arm and stopping at her hand. He locked his fingers within hers and began to pull her into him. She took small steps and pressed into him. When his arms wrapped around her, it was too much, and she burst into tears.
With her fingers grasping at his back, Gil couldn't even muster the words to comfort her, due to the stream of tears running down his own face. He felt her shaking in his arms, and he wanted comfort her, protect her, stand there, forever, holding her. He wanted to never, ever let go.
Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled inches apart. Gil reached down to kiss her, communicating all that he felt in the touch of their lips. They pulled apart again, breathless and needy, wanting more, but out of time. He handed her the carry-on and tickets.
"I'll see you soon," he said softly.
She nodded in response.
"Take care of yourself," he added. "Be careful."
"I love you," she said, even quieter than him.
"I love you too, Sara," he said. "I'll be waiting for you."
She swallowed hard and turned towards the glass doors, tickets in hand. She had only walked a few steps before turning to face him again.
"I'll miss you."
"More than anything."
Gil watched her go, as long as he could, but soon, her head disappeared into the crowd.
As Sara headed towards security, she pulled her passport from her jeans pocket and tried to stifle the hyperventilating tears that were threatening to spill out once more. She handed her papers to the guard and took long, slow breaths.
"Ah, Las Vegas, oui?"
Sara nodded, managing the tiniest of smiles.
"Safe trip home," the guard said in a thick accent, handing her the passport and ticket.
She headed towards the line.
"Mademoiselle?"
Sara turned.
"Zee flight… it ees only dix heures. You will see 'im soon."
At that, Sara couldn't help but smile. She gave him a quick merci before piling her things into an airport bin, pulling her cell out of her pocket to switch it off. She had a text.
"Je t'aime plus que tout, mon petit chou. A bientôt, mon amour."*
She paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut and smiling, before tapping out a quick response and resuming her journey back.
Back at the car, still parked in the drop-off lane, Gil smiled at the received message.
"Je compte les jours jusqu'à ce que je vous reverrai. Jusque-là."**
Six weeks was far too long. But if anything in his experience taught him anything, it was this: Sara was always worth the wait.
The end.
*"I love you more than anything, my little cabbage. See you soon, my love."
**I am counting the days until I see you again. Until then.
