Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: So, I know I said ten chapters, but it'll probably be more than that. Sorry. :( In the mean time, you can enjoy chapters like this!

I really like that several of you have picked up the acronym RTS (Rachel the slut) for Sara's friend. :) It makes me happy.

Chapter Thirty Six:

I managed to avoid Jace most of the day. He found me around two and when I simply stared out at the ocean, still not speaking, he asked if I'd eaten. I had every intention of telling him that I had, with lots of hot, horny, single men… but my stomach growled, interrupting that thought. So I begrudgingly let him guide me to a vegetarian place he'd found on board. I wasn't really a vegetarian yet, but I had taken to making a lot of vegetarian dishes, thinking that it might ease my transition. He must have been really scared of the threats I'd made, because this place was pretty obscure… he had likely scoured the ship in an effort to find it.

I sat and ate with him, but I just shook my head when he tried to talk, whether about our fight or simply to small talk. …We would talk, eventually, but right now, I wasn't in a place to be rational, or to make life-altering decisions about our relationship. I thanked him for lunch, and told him I would need a few days to sort out my feelings. We'd be docking in Puerto Ayora the next day, and he told me he was worried about me exploring the island alone.

My biting response that I was worried about his role in ensuring that our children would never see sea otters or sea lions, because of the oil spills he was tacitly supporting, and he dropped it. I allowed him to hug me, though I left my arms limp at my side.

I did feel guilty for this. He was… trying. But the fact of the matter was that there was little else he could do that would be worse. It felt like… like I'd just discovered I'd been married to a serial rapist or Jack the Ripper. I mean, obviously not, but… but it felt that severe. And I didn't know how to deal with it… how to talk with him, after his deception. How could he have come on this trip with me, prepared to marvel at the beauty of our surroundings, when he knew what he was doing? …What he was keeping from me?

I ate with Dr. Grissom and Catherine again that night, in the main dining room, and there was another pang of guilt when I glanced down to see Jace eating alone, but I turned decidedly from it. We'd be on land the next day, and that would give me some amount of space to clear my head. Although Catherine seemed to have toned it down a bit. I counted two 'sweet cheeks,' one 'cuddle muffin,' and one gag-inducing reference to his 'little Gilly,' which had Dr. Grissom bringing his napkin to his bright red face to wipe away the soda that had come out his nose.

Seriously. No.

But, it was better. She didn't hang on him as much, she talked in a voice that was far more… normal. Less dumb-blonde. She was tolerable, and after the meal, she made herself scarce, saying she'd met some women on the ship who wanted to go to a ladies' night in one of the bars on board. She promised Dr. Grissom that she'd 'be a good girl' and 'make it up to him' later that evening, which caused him to cough and sputter while she laughed, kissed his cheek again, and waved to me. She had invited me along, but really, the whole concept was… painful.

And the way Dr. Grissom responded to her words made me think that that woman had to be all kinds of flexible for him to put up with her long-term. I mean, the thought of them together made me feel nauseous, but there had to be an explanation…

"Gil," he corrected me, the first time I used his title after Catherine had left. It made my eyes flicker back up to his, remembering the other times in which he had wanted me to use his first name. I smiled softly, and repeated it as I had before, as if I intended to use it. And, you know, maybe I would…

We walked along the decks, talking about the year we'd spent apart. It surprised me to realize how much about myself I'd confessed to him in those desperate days of indecision and though I expected this to make me feel uncomfortable, it did not. I also thought I would feel bitter that he had not come when he said he would. When I thought of my desperation, searching for him, I felt a pang of hurt come back to me, but for the most part, I was just happy to share his company.

Maybe, after the cruise, we could be friends.

Hell, if things didn't work out with Jace, maybe he could get me a job at the lab in Vegas. I mean, I knew it was a pretty prestigious lab, but my grades, test scores, and solve-rates were all off the charts. It wouldn't be like he was just hiring someone he knew who couldn't do the job. I could do it, and well.

And even if it would kill me to watch him with Catherine-the-dumb-whore… Well, I mean, if he was only with her for the sex… eventually he'd get tired of her. She was older than me. I mean, I had that going for me.

No, no, no. What on earth was I thinking?! I was pregnant. The best course of action for me and the baby was not to run off to Vegas and hope he would get sick of fucking her and start fucking me… it was to make up with the husband who loved me and find a way to make this work. Had I not said 'as long as we both shall live'?

But in the mean time, I could be friends with… Gil. I mean, Jace and Catherine both seemed like the idea of gallivanting off into the jungle was less than appealing to them, and, well… we would love it. There was no harm in that, was there?

The year he described to me, in which we'd been apart, seemed… vacant. He described cases… changes in the seasons… Catherine's little girl, although these stories were short lived, probably in large part because of the face I made when he started telling them. But they were the only ones with any life in them. It did not seem like he had really lived at all, in the year we'd been apart.

For my part, I talked about cases, Jace's job, and now, being excited about the baby… decorating a room and looking at names and being uncertain if I wanted to know the sex before her or she was born. I talked about the charities we'd been donating to, and the Woman's shelter I'd been volunteering at, and my thoughts on becoming a vegetarian…

He watched me with rapt attention, so much so that I felt myself blushing under his gaze, feeling thankful for the darkness that was slowly creeping around us. When a silence fell over us, he glanced at me with a little hesitation, but seemed to urge himself onward.

"…Jace came to talk to me this morning."

I looked up at him in surprise. "Oh?" I looked away, feeling anger seep back through me, and being uncertain if it was another damned mood swing or if I was honestly still so upset that the mention of his name had me clenching my fists.

"…He's worried you're going to divorce him on board."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "I would have to use his money to do that, though."

He ran a hand over the back of his neck, like he was thinking deeply about how to word his response. "Do you… regret… marrying him? I mean… in light of…everything."

I looked up at him, his curls shining with a pearly, luminescent glow in the moonlight. "…He's not the person I thought he was." I say, because that is such a loaded question. What do I say? Yes, at the alter I looked for you but you weren't there, so I said 'I do' anyway?

He pursed his lips. "Sara… don't you think that… he should be madder at me… for what happened in… San Francisco?"

I stopped walking, turning to look at him in surprise. I was under the understanding that we were not talking about San Francisco. Did we really need to relive that horrible moment in which I had realized that everything was not as it should be and turned to look for him to find him noticeably absent? I mean, to what point and purpose? Did he want to apologize? Or explain? …I didn't need it. I just didn't want to talk about it with him. After a long moment and a shake of my head, I kept moving.

"He doesn't know, so he shouldn't be mad at all."

"Oh… Sara—"

"I'd rather not… drag all of that back up again. You know?"

"Oh. …Right, no, I… I understand."

I gave him a grateful smile and sighed. "You can tell how far we've travelled… it's nearing ten at night and I'm still sweating."

He grinned. "I think I must be used to it… Vegas. But, if you're hot… Why don't we take a dip?" I turned surprised eyes on him, but his smile was so boyish… so happy. He nudged me. "Come on. This is supposed to be a vacation… you should enjoy yourself."

We picked a pool to meet at and I went back to the room to change, grateful that I didn't run into Jace in the process. He was there when I got there, and the pool was surprisingly deserted. There was no bartender on duty though, so that probably explained things. I paused at the edge, watching him, because he hadn't realized I was here yet. He was in the midst of a powerful front stroke from one end to the other, the muscles in his back shining in the dim lighting as they flexed with his movements.

I swallowed, dropping the swimsuit cover-up I'd donned onto a lounge chair and turning back to him as he reached the opposite wall and stopped, wiping water from his eyes and turning to look at me. I quirked a half-smile, tilted my head, and moved to the stairs between us, stepping slowly into water that was refreshingly cold, though it had me crossing my arms over my chest. He smirked and did a lazy breast stroke over to me, coming to stand beside me.

"…Hi."

"Hi." I greeted, blushing under his gaze once again. Why couldn't I stop doing that? His eyes flickered, lightning quick, from my face to my chest and back again, and I blushed further, smirking. Voluptuous girlfriend the man might have, but apparently there was still something that interested him. I grinned. "I told you I had an innie."

He frowned, "…What?"

I raised an eyebrow, moving my crossed arms to place hands on my hips instead. His eyes flickered down and up again. "…Well, I assume that's what you're looking at, when you're not looking at my face. My bellybutton, right?" He blushed this time, and I felt myself beaming. He still wanted me! I mean, maybe not in the forever sense… not in the leave-your-husband-for-me sense… but it was still empowering. I laughed. "What would Catherine say?"

"Something vulgar, no doubt."

I laughed, letting my eyes slide slowly over his chest and down to his stomach, taking in the thin line of hair there. "…You've got an innie too." I let my eyes move up to meet his and watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Sara…"

I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it… Gil. I… We both made choices that we can't take back. …Let's just… live in the moment."

"Sara… Catherine isn't—"

"I get it. …She's beautiful, great body, probably really flexible. …I mean, it's better than using the hookers in Vegas, right?"

He took a step closer to me and I shivered with the warmth he was exhibiting. "I really want to kiss you, right now." I opened my mouth, already stepping back, but he caught my arm above my elbow, softly brushing my breast in his effort to hold me in place. "I won't. …I mean, I… I know that you're…" He took another tiny step forward, leaving us still not touching, but so close that the hairs on my body were standing up, tingling with his presence. "…Do you remember what it felt like?"

His voice was low and husky and I shivered again, this time more visibly. He grinned and I took a deliberate step away from him. "Dr. G—Gi—Grissom. Dr. Grissom. I… I really have to go." I hurried back up the stairs, grabbing my swimming suit cover up on the way, not bothering to stop to put it back on, and rushed to my room.

I was relieved to find it empty again and slid into the shower to calm my trembling hands. A half hour later, when I stepped out of the bathroom in pajamas, he still wasn't back. I laid his pajamas out on the rollaway, not because I was trying to be nice, but because I wanted there to be no question about where he would be sleeping. I crawled into bed, rolling onto my stomach, thinking that despite the thrumming in my body and the racing in my mind, I might actually find sleep fairly easily after the sleepless night before. When my hands slid under the pillow to bring it more snuggly to my face, they hit something hard.

I sat up, pulling it out. A black velvet jewelry box. I opened it, finding within something large and glittery and gaudy. If we had still been hurting for money, it would have meant something that he had spent so much… but now, all I saw was that he still had no idea of my taste… no concept of what I would really want from him. If he had put a copy of his resignation letter with the date it was sent on the top, we might be in business, but this thing…

I tossed it onto his rollaway and settled back into bed, exhausted.