Disclaimer: I do not own.

A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews. I'm interested to see what you guys will say about this chapter... :)

Also, I don't know how to play chess. So please forgive, as with pool, the poor descriptions herein.

Chapter Sixteen:

I felt bad for her. She had clearly been looking forward to a night with her fiancé… and as much as I didn't want to encourage anything of the sort, I wanted her to feel better. By the sound of it, she didn't spend a lot of time with him… so she must have been looking forward to tonight. …I couldn't stand to listen to how melancholy she sounded, though she tried to hide it.

Walking along the pier, waffle cones long since finished and our hands hanging awkwardly at our sides, I tried to steer her out of that sad mood. Even if I felt like she was closer to wanting me when she was sad… I couldn't stand to see her sad. It was positively… heart-wrenching. I wanted to reach out and take her hand… our fingers had accidently brushed several times and my hand was tingling with want for the connection. I thought about suggesting we move down to walk on the beach, but I disregarded that idea.

The chess boards we passed gave me an excuse to stop our walking—I asked if she could play and suggested a game. She grinned. "…We'll probably have to raid several boards to find all the pieces…" So we did, finally gathering all the appropriate pieces and setting them up on the game board. She was white, and made the first move, without hesitation. I smiled. "…Either you're impulsive, or you already have a strategy in mind…"

"Both." She replied with some smugness. I glanced at her, and then back at the pieces.

"So… We're friends now, right?"

"…Right." She said, a little hesitantly.

"…Tell me about Jace." I moved a pawn forward. She quirked a smile.

"…Is this a strategy? Distract me so I'll make a mistake?" Her eyes sliding across the board were quick and sure, playing out possible scenarios already. Again, she made her next move much faster than me. She was impulsive.

"Nooo," I said, dragging out the word while I scanned the board before us. "I really want to know. He's a lucky man. I want to know… how you met, why you fell in love with him, who he is…"

She bit her bottom lip while I continued to consider. "…Okay. He's…a lot like me, I guess. We met a few weeks after I moved here—"

"From where?" I interjected, making my move. She blinked, glancing at it and then back at me.

"I got my undergrad in Boston." She paused, tilting her head while she looked at the board. "Anyway…I actually broke down on the interstate. My car should not have been trusted with a cross-country trek. He was the only person who stopped for me…"

She moved. "He got the car working enough to get me home, and followed me to make sure I made it, but told me it wouldn't last very long and that I couldn't take it up to those speeds again. …Well, in a city like this, that basically means getting a new car. He put me in contact with some people who'd be willing to buy my car for parts—they gave me more than the dealership offered me—and when I turned him down for a dinner invitation, offered to help me find a used car that wasn't a piece of shit…"

I moved. "…Why did you turn him down, at first?"

"…Fear." She moved. God, she was fast.

"…How do you mean?" I kept my eyes on the board, sensing that she was more likely to answer honestly without my eyes on her.

"I… grew up in a poor family. I worked my ass off in high school so I could go to Harvard at sixteen. …I didn't want to fall in love with a mechanic. …People get stupid when they let their emotions take control, and I often don't have as much control over mine as I'd like. I thought… avoiding him… was the best-case solution."

I moved. "But you said he's getting his Master's… in what?"

"Microeconomics, actually… I judged him prematurely." She moved. "He's older than me… had to work to pay for school. He was smart enough for scholarships but he got into a lot of trouble in high school, so he had that against him…"

I watched her. She spoke with genuine affection and admiration for the man, but… her eyes didn't light up the way my mom's still did, every time she talked about my dad. …I took that as a good sign. Or, you know, maybe a bad sign. I mean, I wanted her to give us a chance, but… If she wasn't going to, either way, maybe it would be better if she was making that choice because she really loved him that much.

"…Have I stumped you?" She questioned and with some surprise I turned back to her and the board.

"No, I'm sorry… lost in thought." I moved and she frowned. Apparently she had believed she'd trapped me. "So… you two have similar backgrounds which makes you feel like kindred spirits…you like older men and what man wouldn't find you attractive…you're both smart, attending the same schools… You need someone to take you car shopping and show you around the city and help move furniture and… the rest is history?"

"No." She moved. "I grew up in a suburb of San Francisco. I knew the area, I hired movers, and I was fully capable of purchasing a car on my own."

"…Then what?" I moved, thinking this time that I had her cornered. I was playing out possible scenarios for her to escape when her words distracted me. …Well, no. Less her words—more her tone of voice. She was speaking quietly, her voice tight, her eyes on the board but her hands in her lap for the first time since we'd sat down.

"I… was attacked. On campus. I hadn't yet replaced my car and it wouldn't start after a night class. I walked to a pay phone, calling him and asking if he couldn't try to fix it for me… We were tentatively friends, despite me turning him down. He lived close to campus, said he'd been there in ten minutes… I walked back to my car and sat inside it with the doors locked. But when I saw someone coming… I thought it was him. I got out and he stopped in the trees, rather than coming into the parking lot, so I went to him, thinking something might be wrong. Within seconds I was on the ground, struggling to keep my clothes from being torn off, and… losing. …If Jace hadn't… if he'd waited an extra two minutes to leave the house…"

She shook her head, and it pained me to hear her voice so pained and brittle. She swallowed, lifting a hand to the board and making the final move. "Checkmate."

I swallowed, uncertain about her story… uncertain how she'd beaten me… uncertain what this new information meant about her and about their relationship and what it would mean for ours. I had nothing to say… didn't know what to say. She gave me a lackluster smile. "…I think I'm ready to go home now, Dr. Grissom. Thank you for spending the evening with me… I didn't want to be alone." She stood up, and I sighed, nodding and standing as well.

Belatedly, half-way to the car, I realized she'd gone back to calling me 'Dr. Grissom.' "Gil." I corrected for a third time. This time she didn't even humor me by repeating and agreeing. She gave me another wan smile and looked away, hurrying to my car and sliding inside before I could even reach my door.

I drove her home and once again she slipped out without letting me walk her to the door. She waved and mouthed a 'Thank You' in my direction and I watched her head inside and close the door before driving away, her revelation making me wary about her being alone all night even though such a thing hadn't occurred to me before now.

It was another night in which I got very little sleep, mentally ticking a day off in my mind. She would marry him in five days. In five days, any chance I had to make her mine would disappear. …And there really was nothing I could do about it. I'd put myself out there and been honest about my attraction… about the depth of the connection I felt we had… she knew, and so far, was still insistent that she would marry the man. Maybe that was the end of the story. Take an early flight out once my lectures were done, go home to my townhouse and my insects and my reliable job which I had always loved… and let it go.

Sometimes that was necessary. …The best course of action. Because if she had made up her mind… or even if she hadn't, but she still intended to marry him… that was it. I wasn't going to keep pursuing a married woman. It wasn't like me to pursue an engaged one. I had pushed this as far as it would go and… we had a ticking clock.

It was all up to Sara.