Chapter Twenty Five

Sara yanked her clothes out of the hangar and shoved them inside her bag. The colors of her shirts and jeans took on a whole new interest for her, even though they never ranged beyond the black-and-white spectrum. She began looking for imaginary specks of dust on her clothes and brushed them away meticulously. Any other time, she would have laughed at herself loud. She may have many strange habits but being obsessive-compulsive wasn't one of them.

Sara knew she was only biding her time before her ultimate departure. That and trying to keep her thoughts from straying to the conversation she had with Catherine earlier. Sara had learnt from a very early age that while physical pain could be healed by the wonders of modern medicine, emotional agony stayed with you long after. She also learnt that dwelling on them just increased the pain tenfold.

With all her clothes packed and her toiletries secured in her duffel, Sara was done. She looked around the room as if memorizing its every corner.

You were a guest and you desired to be more… now, you have nothing to do but reap the oats of your foolishness – Sara's brain chided her.

She had one last thing to do and the very thought of it clenched her heart. However, much as she wanted to delay, she also equally wanted to get out of the house and Catherine's life. Bracing herself for what was to come, Sara walked into Lindsay's room.

"Hey kiddo." She smiled at the younger Willows. Lindsay quickly typed a "brb" into her AIM window and turned towards Sara.

"What's up?"

"There was something I had to tell you." Sara knelt down and brought herself to the same eye level as the little girl.

"Sounds serious." Lindsay put on a sing-song voice.

"Yeah." Sara weakly smiled. "You know how your, um, mom brought me here so that I can get well, right?"

Lindsay nodded.

"I think, I'm quite cured now."

"Are you leaving us?"

Sara doubled at Lindsay's unexpected perceptiveness. "I… I… " She stuttered.

"You don't like it here." Sara's heart reached out at the doleful expression on Lindsay.

"Oh no, honey, I do like it here. But this isn't my house. I need to get back to my house and my life, right Lindz?"

"This can be your house, too." Lindsay protested. "I like having you here. Mom does too!"

No, she doesn't – Sara silently sighed. "I like being with you too, sweetie. But I have to go otherwise who'll take care of my house?"

Lindsay hung her head. "I don't want you to go."

Sara swallowed a lump in her throat. "I'll see you again. Um, we can even play video games in the new arcade. And hey, you can come visit me whenever you want." She brushed Lindsay's hair with her fingers.

"But I don't want you to go." Lindsay repeated forcefully.

"Lindsay…"

"Fine, leave! Everyone else does! First Daddy went and now you! I don't care." Lindsay turned her attention back towards her screen and began furiously typing.

"Lindsay, I…" Sara began but she chewed back the rest. Lindsay had the Willows fury etched on her face and she didn't have the strength to continue. It was better this way.

It was always better this way.

"Bye Lindz, I'll… I'll miss you." Sara walked away before she broke.

Everything was over with surprising speed. The cab arrived promptly and helped Sara load her bags in the back. She wouldn't allow that one last favor from Catherine and the older woman didn't push it. Their relationship was gliding on thin ice as it is and Catherine knew better than to try and mend it with formalities. The goodbyes were quick. There were no hugs, no tears, and no lengthy speeches of gratitude. Lindsay didn't come out of her room and Catherine's attempt to cajole her daughter ended in a brief argument.

Catherine watched the taxi curve round the street corner and then dive straight into the Vegas traffic. She knew she could have said one word, one word to stop Sara, but she didn't. It would have taken only one minute to tell Sara the truth and the brunette would still be in her house. But she couldn't bring herself to extract that one minute from her life. She loved chances but she couldn't let that one minute place her life as a stake in the game of romantic roulette.

And, so she watched her street long after the dust had settled. Finally, when she went back inside, she tried to ignore the damp feeling of being all alone once again.

It took Sara a while to maneuver through the building into her apartment. The interiors were dark, shadowed by the heavy curtains over the window. She found it odd that a lot of her things were stacked carelessly into one corner. She didn't remember this being the case when she had come to get her things with Catherine and Nick.

Staleness hung in the air, brought about by days of being neglected. She dumped her bags in the tiny bedroom. Even the bedroom was in a sense of disorder, as if someone had created a mess there and then hurriedly tried to tidy it up. Sara mentally reminded herself to ask Grissom about it.

Her fridge was empty save for a jar of peanut butter and an old loaf of bread. There wasn't much inside the kitchen cabinets either, apart from some canned beans and soup. Hungry but not particularly liking her food choices, she went to get her keys. Sara dimly recalled seeing a coffee shop not far from the building.

Mid-afternoon was probably the quietest period in Vegas. The night partying gang were snoozing away their hangover. The folks that tried to pretend a regular life in the city of abnormal wealth were cooped up in their workplace. Kids were in school and those that were not were too clever to try any tricks in broad daylight.

As such, the coffee shop was deserted and Sara got a quiet seat. The bagel was a little burned but Sara was too famished too care. Besides, her mind was on other things.

Successful relationships weren't her forte. The sporadic flings she had in college were just that, flings. Most of the times, she had no expectations. Sometimes, she did try but it never worked. However, at least, at the end of the day she knew where she stood with them. Today, she had no idea what happened or what it was supposed to mean. Sara had waited all night for Catherine's return but didn't want to call the woman for fearing of appearing too needy. But when this morning, she opened the door to a stoned Catherine, her shock would have been an understatement.

After that, whatever occurred made anything but sense. Someone more aggressive wouldn't have been content with the blunt rejection they received. They would have charged for an explanation or even an apology. Even though questions were abundant in Sara's mind, she knew it was better left unanswered. It was far more dignified to appear as cold as the one who had hurt her.

And she assured herself that the hollowness in her gut would disappear after a few days.