Title: Journey of the Lonely Whale: Evolution (Month 12)

Author: Lisa (ljkwriting4life)

Rating: M. This story contains strong adult themes including references to violence, sexual references, and coarse language.

Pairing: Gil/Sara

Summary: One year since re-marrying, Gil and Sara return to San Diego to fulfil work commitments. While Sara becomes involved in a case that stirs memories of the past, she is also pushed by those around her to consider her future and her place in the world.

Notes: The JOTLW series aims to fill a gap between Immortality and CSI: Vegas. It does foreshadow CSI: Vegas and refers often to storylines established in the original CSI.

SIX

Gil could not help grumbling as Sara stood at the open door to his change room and adjusted the collar of his simple white dress shirt against the collar of the black suit he was also trying on.

"You act as if you've never worn one of these before," she said, barely hiding her laugh.

"I'm currently being reminded of every court appearance I ever had," he said, too loudly.

She looked at him with those serious, warm brown eyes he loved and lowered her voice.

"Do you want to say that any more loudly?" she teased. "You sound like a drug lord, Gil."

"Ah, but do I look like one?" he asked with a more playful smile.

"Hardly," she said. She rubbed his neatly trimmed beard affectionately and took a step back. "Very nice, sweetheart. You look handsome."

"This is overkill, Sara." He meant it, but he also enjoyed the appreciative way she was looking at his body, and he enjoyed the compliment. He wasn't completely unaware of how fine he looked in a suit and he had worn them frequently in Vegas, but he was equally glad he had avoided the career of expert witness, or professional suit-wearer. He could have gone down that path later in life, he specialised in a niche area of forensic science and was well regarded around the country, but he could not think of a worse way to spend his precious time on this earth. There was not enough money in the world that could convince him otherwise. He had always preferred teaching, and the practical investigative work itself, to his time in the witness box spent defending the science.

"It's not overkill," Sara insisted. "I know you haven't worn a suit in a while-"

"Awhile. Try eight years."

"In a few days you're going to be meeting with heads of university and college departments at Berkley, and Oregon State, and I know you might not need the jacket and tie for every meeting, but it makes a difference. You are a professional, even if you don't like to admit it. So, we both know you're going to wear it. You won't need it on the boat, we can pop it in the storage unit for the future before we depart, and I'll probably drop off a bag of clothes at that point too, but trust me, Gil, there will come a time when you will need a suit that fits you, and this fits you wonderfully."

Gil sighed. He hated to agree with her, but he knew she was right.

"You're just not used to me helping you with this," she said.

"No," he agreed. "I'm not, it's odd." Despite all the time they had spent together, they had rarely found themselves standing in a department store change room. Gil felt awkward about her being there, as though he needed his wife to help him pick out his clothes. There were other men trying on clothes perfectly well without any help whatsoever, and Gil had been an independent man for more than thirty years before he and Sara got serious. Even then, they hadn't done any clothes shopping together until they later married in Central America and travelled to Europe, where their Costa Rican wardrobe was suddenly wholly inadequate. Shopping with Sara bothered Gil then too, but Paris was Paris, and they had been blissfully wrapped up in one another in those early months.

The only time it truly hadn't bothered him for a single moment was the day of their wedding a year ago, when they had rushed out to the shops that morning to buy the rings and to find him a fresh shirt to wear, and that day he had been more than happy for Sara to have the final say. He had just wanted to marry her; he would have worn an old rock concert t-shirt if she'd asked him to.

"Think of it this way," Sara said. "I just really want this grant money. I want them to take us seriously, I want their backing, and I want them to say they think our proposals are excellent and well thought-out and they would love to have us on board as adjuncts so we can make this work and get paid to do what we both really want to do. So, this is just a means to an end, a costume. And once we're done here, I'm dragging you to the women's section so I can buy something too, because I might not be going on this trip this time, but I'll certainly need a jacket for online meetings and presentations I'm involved in, and need I remind you that I hate wearing suits even more than you do. You're right, they remind me of court, and funerals. So, then we can both suffer together, okay?"

"Fine," he said on a sigh. But he softened and smiled at her a little. "Thank you," he said.

"Ahuh," she said with a playfully huffy smirk. "I'll meet you outside."

When he closed the door, he heard one of his neighbours call out from behind his door, "Hey love, wanna help me out too? I'll make it worth your while, double what he's paying ya."

"Not enough money in the world, Fred," she called back on her way out of the hall.

Gil chuckled. He was looking forward to the trip. It had been tentatively planned as they made their way back to San Diego, and the plan had always been for Gil to go alone if it made sense to travel and coincided with Sara's time at the lab, but Gil had only confirmed arrangements during the week and had booked his tickets and accommodation in recent days.

He would be leaving on Monday and would be gone for five days. First he would fly to San Francisco and then on Wednesday he would fly to Portland. The in-person pitch and chance to meet future collaborators and possible co-authors at those sites was just as important as the regular email communication and informal network they had built up over the year, and even though Gil knew Sara was far more personable than she gave herself credit for and she would be exceptionally good at that level of networking – much better than he was, naturally – she was nervous about putting herself out there, and Gil had the pure research experience and the professional name in the scientific community. She had encouraged him to go alone while she continued working. The trip meant Sara could max out time at the lab without feeling guilty, if Nick didn't throw her out first, and that they would still get the weekend together when he returned. The following Monday was their wedding anniversary, and at that point, Sara would only have that one week left at the lab anyway.

If she didn't decide she wanted to stay another month.

Gil couldn't believe they were already at the halfway mark. One part of him wasn't sure he was ready to get back on the boat. He had settled into the apartment and a routine, he liked the full-size kitchen and the large bed, the washing machine and dryer were a luxury, he did enjoy the park and watching the insects he just didn't see at sea. However, mostly, he was still eager to get the hell out of Dodge, away from the unstoppable rush of society, and the need for suits and schmoozing.

He found Sara by the ties, and after he took a moment to look over the collection, he pointed out one he liked. Maybe he would need it, maybe he wouldn't, but she was right in that he didn't own any of this stuff anymore. Even in the few years leading up to his departure from Vegas, the years that he and Sara were together, he had casualised his wardrobe. More comfortable with himself, maybe, or more willing to show more of himself to the world. It wasn't a bad thing.

He stood with his purchases in his arms as Sara pulled women's suit jackets off the rack and tried them on in the middle of the store, in front of a full-length mirror mounted on a wall.

"Augh, funeral," she said of a black one, which she quickly hung back up and put away.

Gil just stood patiently and waited. He had never felt more like a dutiful husband, but he tried not to sigh or look too bored. He focused on her body, on the way she moved in and out of her clothes and the studious, stubborn look on her face as she wandered amid the store's racks.

"I see it's less important for you to have matching pants," he remarked smartly when she returned with some colored jackets. Sara narrowed her eyes at him in a playful glare.

"Excuse me, I already have good pants, Mister I'd-be-happy-in-my-boat-slacks," she said, gesturing to the sleek black pants she was wearing, which she had bought in New Zealand. She had bought some nice clothes there if memory served him correctly. And one very nice new bra. As for the pants, though, he didn't think he had seen her wear them to work so far. She was probably too afraid she would get something on them to ruin them, someone else's blood or other bodily fluids.

"That one's nice," Gil said thoughtfully when she pulled on an orange jacket with a long, slim lapel. It was strange to see Sara so dressed up again. He remembered back to just a couple of weeks ago when she would get home from the lab and change quickly into shorts and loose shirts that she would have worn on the boat when it was warm. Suddenly, she seemed more comfortable in the heavier clothes she was wearing to work again, she was in less of a hurry to change when she got home, and she wore makeup and had bought a cheap straightener for her hair. He didn't mind any of it, it wasn't even his right to mind any of it, he just thought it was interesting to watch the way Sara adapted to the world. It was kind of nice. She made it look easier than he felt it really was.

"Mm, I like it too," she said as she pulled the jacket closed without doing up the buttons. The jacket came in at the waist, there was a pocket on the flare of her hip, it was functional for her. There was a slight shine to the fabric under the store's light, but it was a darker orange. It suited her.

Sara glanced back at the tie Gil had chosen and saw it was blue and white and black. She looked disappointed as she took the orange jacket off and tried on a shorter blue one instead.

Gil smirked. As though it was important they matched.

To be honest, he really didn't see a difference. Clearly they were different jackets, the short blue one had no buttons or pockets or lapel, but Sara looked beautiful in both, and yet she stood there and looked at herself in the mirror with a frustrated, thoughtful expression Gil could barely decipher. This was the same woman who had spent most of her thirties in corduroy and denim. Did she really care this much about suit jackets when she had always claimed to hate suits so much?

But Gil knew that Sara was grappling with larger issues, he saw it in her every day, so he didn't interrupt what was clearly an internal dialogue as she tried the orange jacket on once again.

"Why don't you get both," he said when he realised she thought she had to choose.

"Gil, that's ridiculous," she said. "Why would I ever need two, we live on a boat." She sighed and looked back at his suit. "I should get the blue one. At least your shoes are in the storage unit, right? We can pick those up this weekend before you go, without needing to buy any more?"

"They're there," he said. "So is all the stuff you got shipped out of the condo before you sold it." The boxes would still be sealed, they had not been back to check on or to open any of it, but they would make a start when they visited to pick up his shoes. "Which jacket do you like better?"

Sara pursed her lips and held up the orange one with another regretful look on her face.

"I can dress it down more," she said. "With jeans, my sneakers. Looks cool and funky, right?"

"I like it," he confirmed again. "But get both. You're the one who's working, honey. It's your money." He smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I'll give up my jacket so you can get both of yours."

"Oh no, not so fast, Mr Magnanimous," she said, laughing happily. She threw the orange jacket at him. "You'll give up your tie before you give up that suit. Hold this, I'm buying it."

"Yes dear," he said on a sigh, mockingly exhausted but secretly delighted. He watched her put the blue jacket on one last time. He hoped it was the last time, anyway.

"You don't think it looks too professional?" Sara asked. "I'm not sure I'd ever wear it, except for attending meetings or perhaps a conference one day. I never go to court anymore. The orange one I'll keep with me, but this one…it's wasteful, it would go straight into storage for now."

"Alongside all of this," Gil reminded her, with his arms full of his own clothes. "Darlin', at least they'll be together in there."

She laughed again and nodded.

Gil hesitated as he cast his eyes across her face. He wondered whether he should reach for her hand and ask her softly and seriously what the matter was, but he was afraid if this indecision from her was evidence of something deeper then she might cry, and truthfully he did just want to get out of there. Sara would also hate it; they were in a very public place. He couldn't do that to her.

"Honey," he simply said. He waited until she looked into his eyes. "You look beautiful."

He looked at her sincerely. There was no pretence, no hint of frustration, and it wasn't something he was just saying to hurry things along. Sara sighed and nodded. She accepted his words.

"Okay," she said. "As long as that tie can keep this old girl company in storage until we need them both."

"Of course," Gil said. "Clearly they're a pair, and when we wear them, everyone will know we're a team and we mean business."

"Ahuh," she said, somewhat disbelievingly as he chuckled and she pursed her lips. "Now you're trying too hard."

"I know," he said. "I'm hungry."

Sara laughed at the honest admission. She seemed to think that was fair enough.

Gil leant forward from the back seat of the cab as the driver pulled into the parking lot of the crime lab. He directed the driver where to pull up and asked him to wait, and he got out of the car and pressed his phone to his ear.

"It's me," he said when Sara answered. "I'm outside for a few minutes. Can you duck out?"

He smiled as she promised to do just that. He then put his phone and both his hands in his pockets to wait. His bag was in the trunk and he was dressed casually for the flight to San Francisco, but he had plenty of time to get to the airport.

His smile grew when he saw Sara emerge in a white lab coat. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she looked unbelievably adorable, he thought. Part of her time at the lab had to be spent on the science and trace analysis, not just out in the field collecting evidence, and some days she preferred the lab. She smiled as she spotted the cab, and Gil walked a few steps closer to her.

He had left to get on a plane in the middle of one of her shifts before, more than ten years ago, and all he had managed was a stunted, 'I'll miss you', in the locker rooms. He had been worried what people would think if he hugged her, even after a year of dating. She had been upset that he had decided to take a sabbatical alone without telling her until the decision had been made.

It was a terrible way to have said goodbye, it was a terrible memory. He had hurt her.

Gil just wouldn't do that sort of thing anymore, though. He had loved Sara then, but he loved her far more now. She was his wife, and if she was angry at him or disappointed in him it wouldn't scare him the way that it had so long ago. He would still hug her goodbye and tell her he loved her. He didn't know whether that was just a sign of his own maturity or added self-confidence, or the fact he now cared even less about what people thought compared to back then, when he was still supervising Sara at the lab. All he knew was that this, now, was a chance to make amends.

Gil could tell from Sara's sparkling eyes and the blush on her cheeks that she was happy to know he was there to say goodbye to her, as he had said he would be doing that morning. He hadn't let her down. There was no disappointment in her expression as she squinted into the midday sun.

"You're leaving?" she asked. "You've got everything you need?"

"I'm set, thanks," he said. "I'll be home when you get home from work on Friday night."

Sara nodded. She bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath. This was only a short, five-day trip, it was nothing, but they hadn't spent a single night apart in a year, let alone a full working week.

Gil took a step forward and Sara moved at the same time to step into the hug. Gil tried to soak up the memory of her warmth and her softness, the feeling of her heartbeat under her breast. He forgot those things all too easily when they were apart; the memories were never real enough.

"Please be careful," Gil told her as he whispered in her ear. "In the field. Be careful, honey."

"I will," Sara promised. "Nick doesn't let me do anything dangerous. I'm in a lab coat, Gil."

Gil kissed her cheek and held his lips against her skin, as Sara's fingers dug into his back.

"Good luck," she said. "Have a good time. I know you'll have a lot of work you want to do, but you need to call me to tell me how the meetings go, all right? Don't you dare go off-grid on me."

Not like last time, he thought. Or the time before that.

"You won't be able to get me off the phone," he assured her with a laugh, as they pulled their heads back to look at each other in the eyes again. "Message me when you get home from the lab tomorrow night, so I know I can call and talk to you. If you forget, I'll call anyway. And I made you some meals this morning, dinner for the next few nights is in the freezer. Eat."

"Okay, thanks," she said softly as she smiled. She held his face in her right hand and stroked his cheek with her thumb. "I love you," she whispered. "So much. Before you get on that plane-"

"I know," he said in a choked voice, as her words tugged on his own heart. "Sara-"

"I'll be here when you get back, okay?" she said before he could continue, giving him the opportunity to just nod and go if that was what he needed. He wasn't good at saying goodbye when it could mean forever, but that wasn't what this was, and he wasn't going to 'just go', not this time.

"I love you too," he mumbled as he leant in to kiss her, quickly, before his voice cracked. Sara held his face and neck securely in warm hands, but they didn't kiss for long, and she stepped back and urged him into the cab with a smile and a wave. He watched her wrap her arms around her waist and she absent-mindedly swiped at some tears before hugging herself again.

Gil waved through the window as the cab left to take him to the airport.

Leaving this way hurt too, he realised, but it was a different kind of hurt. A better kind.

"Your lady works there, eh? The forensics lab?" the cab driver asked after they had left the lot and re-joined the local traffic. "She's a scientist? Like one of those people on TV, solving crimes?"

"She is," Gil confirmed. He took a breath and smiled. "She's a very good scientist," he said.

Sara watched the cab leave the parking lot and cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. She heard someone come to stand behind her and felt that it was Nick. She knew his steps, his presence.

"What's up, Nick?" she asked without turning around. Her heart was aching a little, she was blinking back tears she knew were irrational and stupid and there was no need to cry because it was five days and four nights and it was nothing compared to the time they had spent apart over the years, even after they were dating and then married the first time. Years, they had spent years apart.

Sara knew this was different, but it still felt a little bit the same.

"I'm just heading to the PD, got an appointment with the Sheriff," Nick explained.

"Fun," she mumbled.

"Was that Gil heading off for his mini sabbatical?" Nick asked, laughing a little. He obviously remembered the time Gil had left Vegas to teach a short course at Williams in Massachusetts more than a decade ago. Gil had given the whole team almost no notice, including Sara, and Catherine, who had to take his place as supervisor. Sara remembered Nick going on about how a sabbatical was a step nearer to retirement and he hadn't thought Gil would come back, or if he did come back then surely it would only be to pack up and go. Nick had not known Gil and Sara were dating, he hadn't known about Hank, or that Sara was living with Gil and the dog. Nick had speculated on Gil's return for the entire time Gil was gone, and even though Nick had just been anxious and Sara and Gil had talked over the phone, Sara had felt so lonely, even with Hank at her side.

"It's just a few days," she told herself, but also Nick. It was Monday, and she would see Gil on Friday, so it really was just Tuesday to Thursday they wouldn't see each other, and there would be none of this speculation that he wasn't coming back. There would never be another sabbatical.

"Are you all right?" Nick asked more gently.

"Fine," she said with a stubborn frown, as she forced her curious mind back to where it had been headed before Nick interrupted her. "I think I just had an idea, about the Rollins case."

"Oh yeah?" Nick asked as he moved to stand beside her, rather than behind her. The only fingerprints they had lifted from the house had belonged to Chloe and her mother, they hadn't found the knife, and even though the footprint had been disturbed, the brick dust was the same composition as the others, and Lochie was busy trying to trace its origins through US suppliers. That was pretty much all they had. Sara knew she wasn't the only one being kept up at night by the case.

"Do you know if the team ever looked into whether anyone from those homes ever took cabs or ride-shares regularly, or even just as a once-off?" she asked.

"I dunno, maybe not," he said. "Are you thinking it's a way for someone to identify potential targets? Women alone might be more likely to be using a ride-share service, to get home safe."

"A little friendly small talk isn't unusual either," Sara said. "Learn a little about a passenger's daily life on the way, get to know which homes have alarms or lights or cameras nearby, or other cars in the driveways. When I took Sophie and Lochie back out to re-interview the victims, we never asked them about cabs or ride-shares, because they all had cars. We made an assumption."

"Well, no stone left unturned," Nick said. "We're getting a tonne of heat on this and we're nowhere. Why do you think I'm about to get my ear chewed off by the Sheriff? So, good idea, ask the questions, just keep Aaron up to speed, he's the supervisor, and keep me posted."

"Sure thing, boss." Sara offered Nick a kind, teasing smile as he scoffed and shook his head.