Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: Aw, I love my reviewers. Especially how interactive you are.

I like GSR'er's idea of coming up with as many ways to kill him as possible. :) I think each review should end with the way the reader would like to see him meet an untimely and extremely conveinant demise. Just sayin'.

Jelly--Am I allowed to join the SJ, GSTG campaign, or no, because I control the characters? If I don't have him do that, am I being unfaithful to the campaign?

CsiKathy--the term 'tool-prints' is my new favorite phrase. Just so you know, it made me laugh for like ten minutes.

GSRmania--I missed you. :) Your reviews make me so happy. Your poor husband--tell him once again that I'm sorry.

Anyway, this is Sara's side of the story. Let me know what you guys think. I'm trying to write as fast as I can before I have to be out of town for over a week, but it's also finals week so I'm juggling a lot. :)

Chapter Sixty Three:

When Jace returned with Ayla's gas drops, I gave them to her and soothed her until it seemed like they were helping… and then I laid her on her back, on a blanket on the floor, and went out to find the man who had just caused a fight between Gil and I. The man who wouldn't let me leave.

"What exactly are you playing at?"

He looked up at me in surprise from the stack of papers he'd brought home from work. "…Excuse me?"

"How many times have I said you need to knock and wait before coming in my room?"

He looked bewildered. "I… several. But when you're asleep, I don't want to wake you up by knocking continuously. …Sara, I'm worried about you. You don't get enough sleep and it's starting to affect you… you're so emotional."

"Stop it. Stop blaming things on my hormones! I'm emotional because I'm a prisoner in this marriage, stuck across the country from the man I love and want to be with."

"…You can leave whenever you like, Sara."

Tears pressed against my eyes. "But I should just be aware that you're not giving her up without a fight?"

He nodded, succinctly. "That's right."

"…You're such an asshole!"

"…I'll wait for you to tell me to come in, from now on."

"That doesn't fix this."

He sighed. "No… I know that. But you don't want to fix it, you want to run away from it. …Since we want different things, until you decide acting on your wants is worth the risk involved, we'll simply have to agree to disagree. And in the mean time, I will be more respectful of your privacy."

"Ugh!" I screamed at him in frustration, turning to go back to Ayla.

I couldn't sleep that night—I called him over and over, and tried to leave a message several times… but I kept misspeaking. I can't tell you how many times I hit 'one' to listen to my message and then 'one' again to delete and re-record. In the end, I decided that I couldn't correctly convey myself through a message—it was throwing me off. I was rambling and over talking, which I always did when Gil made me nervous, and it was not nearly as endearing in a message he would listen to while mad at me than it might be when we were actually connected. I didn't sleep—I gave up calling around 8 am, 5 am his time, deciding I couldn't wait any longer to shower and get ready for work and get Ayla ready for daycare.

It was a long, long day. I was short with my students in class and I forced myself to stop grading essays, because I realized that I had just given a student who had never turned in less than an A paper a C. I decided I would need to relook at them when Gil and I weren't fighting anymore. I mean, usually he would have called the night before to apologize, or at least apologized when I did. But, the fact that I kept getting sent to voicemail told me he was either deliberately ignoring my calls or somewhere that didn't have cell service. He could have gotten a bad case or something…

I forced myself to not get worked up… not worry that he was ignoring me. He always called at seven his time, ten mine. And after last night, even if something came up, I knew he'd make an effort to call at some point. Despite being exhausted, I didn't let myself sleep for fear I'd miss his call as I had so many times before—I didn't want some misunderstanding to tear us apart. This was too important for that.

He didn't call. I dialed his number several times, but ended up hanging up before pressing send each time. I was nervous that he hadn't called because he was still mad, and I didn't think I could take him yelling at me. Jace wasn't lying when he'd accused me of being emotional, though I hated him using that… because my concerns were valid, no matter how emotional I was, and it minimized it. It implied that I was just this hysterical little woman who ought to be disregarded because she was too emotional to think straight.

But I was emotional—I cried almost every day, and sometimes over the stupidest things. I was restless and irritable, even when Gil and I weren't fighting, and my mood swings were severe. Sometimes I felt like I was forcing myself to eat because Ayla needed my milk, and other times I ate like I hadn't eaten in days. Sometimes I couldn't sleep at all, but most of the time I was exhausted… it seemed like no matter how much I slept, I never felt rested. It had been months since I'd given birth, so it was too long to just call it a simple case of the baby blues.

And I felt constantly desperate for comfort… which is why I was constantly trying to initiate phone sex. I mean, I missed him and sometimes I really wanted it… but more often than not, I just craved hearing him describe us together, because he put images in my head of intimacy and closeness that I couldn't conjure up myself—they were so detailed and beautiful and sentimental. I felt safe when he described what it would feel like to be inside me and to love me gently. The worship in his voice reassured me that he loved me and that the sacrifice he was making wasn't going to make him run away from me, and I tried with everything in me to give that much comfort back to him.

I hadn't asked him what he thought about Post-Partum Depression since that day I'd tried to and he'd snapped at me for bringing up Jace, even though it'd been unintentional. I knew it wasn't rational, but I associated the subject with his disapproval and anger, and it made me ashamed that I was worrying in this way. I'd just carried a baby for nine months—of course I was hormonal. Women had dealt with this for thousands of years before me just fine. …I felt like I would be a failure as a mother in his eyes. I couldn't handle that—his opinion of my ability to mother was the only one that mattered. I was afraid to bring it up, and afraid to go talk to my doctor about it without telling him first… getting his opinion and support.

But he didn't call, and I couldn't bring myself to call him and have him yell at me about calling while I knew he was working because he was still mad from our argument. I stayed up as late as I could, but like I said, I was constantly exhausted. I didn't know how I'd managed to stay up the previous night, but tonight was impossible. I woke up around 3:30 when Ayla was hungry and tucked her against my body, leaning back against the headboard and letting my eyes close while she suckled—my eyes snapped open when there was a knock on the door.

I sighed, checking to make sure my breast was only minimally exposed. "Come in."

Jace was there in his usual sleeping attire, just boxers, looking a little sheepish. "I know you haven't been sleeping well… once she's done eating, I'll take her… change her and get her back to sleep."

I wanted to snap at him, wanted to stay mad at him, but the truth was that I was overwhelmingly exhausted, and his words sounded like the best idea anyone had ever had. Like clockwork, she released me and I passed her to him, tucking myself back into my gown and rolling over. "…She needs to be burped." I murmured, already sliding into sleep, aware that he had taken a seat on the other side of my bed to burp her. But he would have to get up to change her.

I let my eyes fall closed in relief, my last thought being that I hoped I would wake up if Gil called me. …I hoped Gil would call me.

The next thing I knew, Jace was shaking me awake. My eyes flickered open to take in the clock—4:15 am. "The phone's for you, honey. …Wake up."

"Oh," I said stupidly, remembering that he had woke me for a reason—I reached for the phone, and then realized—it had been more than a half hour since I had fallen asleep, and Jace was still beside me. …He sounded like he'd been asleep. Oh god, Ayla! "…Ayla?! Where is she?" I panicked.

"Right here, Sara. Calm down, we didn't roll over her, everything's fine." He still had her cradled in his arms—and he was propped up a little. Had he fallen asleep putting her to sleep, leaning up against the headboard?

I realized I was still holding a phone. "Hello?"

There was a long pause—and then the line went dead. …I looked at the number, but I didn't recognize it. It wasn't a Vegas number but… who else would call me in the middle of the night? I called it back, but I was sent to a voicemail inbox of someone named Lily Flynn. I frowned and hung up, calling Gil's number instead.

Jace frowned at me. "What are you doing?"

I was so tired of the games, I didn't even try to hide it. "I'm calling Gil. That was probably him… we were fighting. I need to talk to him." It was ringing this time—his phone was on and he had reception. At which point it hit me—Jace had answered my phone. What had he said? Had it been obvious that he was right beside me, in bed, at four in the morning?

I had to explain… had to tell him that I had never expected him to stay longer than ten minutes, but I'd just been so exhausted and so upset over our fight that I'd let him take Ayla and gone right to sleep. I had to make him listen… apologize… beg him to believe me and not to give up on me—I knew how hard this was for him and I knew that I wasn't really worth his love, but I needed it like I needed oxygen… Ayla was the only other thing in my life that had ever even come close to how I felt about him. They were everything.

It went to voicemail, and this time I did leave a message, uncaring that Jace was still beside me, watching me with empty eyes. "Gil… It's Sara. Honey, I know you just called, and I want to explain what happened. I swear on Ayla's life that I didn't know he was in here anymore. He offered to change her and put her back to sleep and then I thought he'd leave. I was just so exhausted, baby, and I didn't sleep all last night, trying to get ahold of you… I wanted to apologize for being abrupt. Gil, you were right about everything. I'm so sorry! …Please, please don't give up on me. I love you. I love you more than anything." I paused, feeling the tears streaming down my face again. "…You're my whole world. I would never betray you. …You have to believe me." I hung up, burying my face in my hands.

When Jace shifted on the bed, getting up to lay Ayla in her crib, I remembered that he was there. I wiped my eyes and leveled a glare at him. "I hate you! …I hate more than I can possibly say! Why are you doing this to me?! If you ever loved me, Jace… if you still love me, as you claim, let me go! Let me be happy! …I'm falling apart, living like this!"

His eyes were soft, but his mouth was hard. "…Then stop living like this. Stop trying to tear yourself between two lives—you've already made the choice that you're not going to give up Ayla for Gil, and you know I'm not going to give her up either. If you know that you will always pick her over him… then stop trying to have your cake and eat it too. Commit to this family."

"This isn't a family! This is a prison and I fucking hate you!"

Ayla woke up to my screaming, and Jace clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Look what you're doing, Sara. Control yourself." He bent to pick her up, but I was already over to them, pushing him roughly out of the way and picking her up myself. When I spoke, I was no longer yelling, but my voice conveyed the same anger… I felt it running through me like an electrical current.

"…Don't you dare touch her. Stay away from my child. …You want to play games and give ultimatums? Here's mine: If you let me go, you get Ayla on holidays and in the summer… if you don't, you'll live in the same house with both of us, but you will get any time with her… or me." I leveled a glare at him. "Now get the fuck out of my room and away from my daughter, or I'm calling the police and accusing you of marital rape."

"Jesus Christ, Sara, are you fucking crazy?!" I picked up the cell phone I had just dropped and dialed 911, my thumb poised over the send button. "…You're a CSI, you know you can't prove that."

"No—it'll be my word against yours. But if I ask for a divorce, we'll go to court for that before the criminal trial… in which case, the fact that you allegedly raped me is admissible in court."

"Sara—"

I hit send, and he turned and stomped out of the room, slamming my bedroom door in the process. Ayla shuddered, but when I gently bounced her and hummed, she calmed and didn't cry again. "911, what is your emergency?"

"Could you transfer me to the police station please? …Thank you." Once the phone started ringing and I knew I wasn't about to get in trouble for falsely calling 911, I hung up the phone, tossing it back onto my bed, before settling back against my headboard with Ayla again. I ran my fingertips over the phone, wondering if it was too soon to call him again… wondering if he would ever forgive me for what he believed I'd done to him.