Part Sixteen - Fete

Sara paced the floor of her apartment restlessly, resisting the urge to return to her wardrobe and change her clothes for at least the fourth time, all the while telling herself that she was being ridiculous, and that she was just imagining the butterflies in her stomach. It was just Cyrus, she told herself. They were friends, they'd been friends for months, and friends could spend time together on their days off.

A little voice that sounded very like Lea sounded in her head though, reminding her that friends didn't worry over what to wear for one another, that friends didn't make her feel like she was some bubble-headed teenager preparing for her first date. Nor, the voice said, did friends slow dance in the living room, arms wrapped around one another, bodies pressed together.

She pushed the voice to the back of her head as best she could, but she couldn't help sighing with relief when the doorbell rang. It could only be Cyrus and maybe if she talked to him, the voice wouldn't gain purchase on her thoughts.

But when the little voice mocked that friends didn't usually pick one another up at home, that they usually met where they were going, she realised that that wasn't going to happen.

She had the perfect counter-argument to that at least though, because Cyrus hadn't actually told her where they were going. Sunday, they'd had dinner at his place, ended up slow dancing to Billy Joel before talking for hours. She'd gone back to her place, rushing in when she'd heard the phone ringing, just about getting to it before it stopped, only to find Cyrus on the other end, checking to make sure she'd got home all right. He hadn't talked long, but he'd called her the next day, wondering when she was off, if she'd like to go someplace with him. Those had been his exact words, and she'd wondered if he was asking her for a date. She hadn't asked him that though, had been all prepared to ask him more questions about where they were going. Her mouth had betrayed her though, the only word emerging being, "Sure." She'd named the day, he'd said he'd pick her up, and when she pointed out that she didn't know what to wear, he'd told her to dress casually. She'd followed his advice; eventually picking blue jeans and a simple white top, not-too-high heeled boots. She'd left her hair out, the way that she always wore it, and had debated wearing make up, but scratched the idea when multiple changes of outfit had meant that she'd run out of time.

Opening the door, she found that Cyrus had dressed casually too, blue jeans like hers, paired with a black shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the top couple of buttons of the shirt undone, and the little Lea-voice emitted a low growl of approval. "Hey," he said, smiling easily at her, not being privy to her mortification at the voice's antics. "You ready?"

"Sure." Sara grabbed her purse and keys, making sure that the place was securely locked up before she walked with him out to the car. "You know, you still haven't told me where we're going yet," she pointed out, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Funny that," was all he said, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Come on," she said. "We're on our way now."

He lifted one eyebrow, opening the passenger side door for her, waiting for her to get in. "So you don't have much longer to wait then," he said, and shaking her head, she got into the car.

The trip passed quickly, with her bugging him for location hints, him dodging artfully, any silences filled by the music from the radio, no Billy Joel this time though. Just as she'd thought, conversation with Cyrus banished any sense of nervousness that Sara had been feeling, and by the time the car began to slow down, she was enjoying herself immensely. Looking around her then, she realised where they were, where he'd brought her, and she threw her head back and laughed.

"You're kidding me," she managed to get out, looking across at him to see that he was laughing too.

"I am not," he assured her. "We've had the conversation twice now, and have you yet been to a carnival?"

Still laughing, Sara looked out the window at the bright lights of the carnival, visible even from this distance. She could hear the sounds of people enjoying themselves, laughing and having fun, and just for a moment she looked at him, incredulous that he would not only remember such a small detail of one of their conversations, but that he would actually act on that remembrance. "I can't believe you did this," she murmured, and he shrugged.

"It's not like I organised the carnival," he quipped. "I just saw the posters… thought you might enjoy it."

She glanced over at the lights again, then back at him. "I'll kick your ass at the milk can throw," she told him, and he laughed.

"That a challenge?"

"Loser buys the cotton candy."

"You're on." He held out his hand and they shook on it before getting out of the car, walking into the fairground.

Sara hadn't been lying to Cyrus when she'd told him that it had been years since she'd been to a carnival. She had worked that case with Catherine two years ago, the little girl drowned by her own mother in the Tunnel of Love, but that had been work. That didn't count, which meant that the last time she went to a carnival and fully enjoyed it must have been her senior year in high school.

That hadn't been nearly as much fun as this one.

The bet that they'd just made meant that the first place they had to find had to be the milk can throw, where they spent the first couple of minutes haggling over the rules of the bet. Deciding that the simplest route would be to go on who knocked down more cans from the triangle of ten, Cyrus let Sara go first, saying something about "Ladies first." She didn't object, just raised an eyebrow and paid her money, taking the balls from the vendor, taking careful aim and throwing the first one. It hit the top can, which wobbled, but didn't fall, just moved slightly, and a snicker from behind her only made Sara throw the second ball harder. This time, two cans fell to the ground, the third ball yielding two more. Turning, Sara saw Cyrus looking at her, arms crossed over his chest, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "That the best you can do?" he asked, and she grinned, knowing he was teasing her, mimicking his posture.

"These things are all weighted down," she told him quietly, her back to the vendor so that he couldn't hear her, and Cyrus laughed out loud at that.

"Oh really?"

"Yes really," she told him, and when he didn't move, she looked at him archly. "Well Detective?" she asked, smiling as sweetly as she knew how. "We going to see what you've got any time soon?"

Cyrus shrugged, walking confidently to the vendor. "I think that can be arranged." As Sara watched, he threw his first ball, aiming for the base of the pyramid. The ball flew through the air, faster than hers had, and hit its target, one of the base cans going flying, taking some of the cans above with it. Sara blinked in surprise, but Cyrus didn't turn, didn't say anything, just took aim with the second ball, four more cans falling to the ground. Three cans were left now, and Cyrus took his time aiming for them, and sure enough, after the ball was thrown, the three cans joined the seven others on the ground, leaving Sara gaping at Cyrus in shock.

"How did you-" she began, and he shot her an "Are you kidding me?" look as he accepted his prize, a stuffed bear, some nine inches high, from the vendor.

"I might play basketball with Stokes," he told her. "But I played baseball in high school."

"Baseball?" she echoed.

"All State since you ask," he told her, holding out the bear to her. "Here," he said, making her blink in surprise again. "Consolation prize."

She hesitated for a moment, then took the bear, putting it into her purse, arranging it so that the head peeked out. "Well, since the last thing you gave me was a bag of someone else's stomach contents… " she reminded him, and he frowned at first before remembering what she was talking about.

"I'm learning," he said, taking a step towards her, resting his hands on her shoulders. He looked down at her for what seemed like a long time to Sara, though it could only have been seconds, and she was sure that he was going to kiss her. Instead though, he turned her around, pointing her in the direction of the cotton candy stall. "But I believe you have to get me something now…"

Smiling, though inwardly more than a little rattled, Sara walked with him to the cotton candy stand, buying them one each as per the terms of the bet. She even managed to banter with him on the way there, though her mind wasn't quite fully engaged on the conversation. She was more concerned with the look that had been in Cyrus's eyes when his hands were on her shoulders, the thought that had been going through her head. She'd been sure that he was going to kiss her, and since they were just friends, that shouldn't be allowed.

The little Lea-voice made a sudden reappearance though, pointing out that it wasn't something that she would have minded.

They decided to walk around as they ate their cotton candy, just to see what was there, a plan that worked out well until they got to the Ferris wheel. Standing at the bottom, looking up at the huge structure, the lights of the cars merrily going around, Sara was reminded of all the times that she'd gone up in one of those cars with her father or mother back in Tomales Bay. They hadn't done very many things together as a family, but the carnival was a big thing for them, and they'd gone every year. The Ferris wheel had always been her favourite. She turned to Cyrus to say that they should go on it, only to find that he was already leading her to the end of the queue. Her surprise must have shown on her face because he looked at her curiously. "You want to go on it don't you?" She narrowed her eyes in answer, because unless he'd taken up mind reading as a hobby, she had no idea how he knew that. "You told me that you used to love the Ferris wheel," he continued, and it was only then that she remembered saying that to him, the first time that he'd found her when she was maxed out on overtime, when she helped him find a print on a diving knife.

An off-the-cuff comment, made in passing months ago. And he remembered.

"I still love the Ferris wheel," she told him, gladly getting in line.

The queue wasn't too long, and they were among the next group of people who got on. For Sara, it was almost like going back in time, the familiar thrill still shooting through her when the bar came down over them, when the seat began to rise. "You should have seen me when I was a kid," she told Cyrus, looking over at him, at the same time as tucking a piece of windblown hair behind her ear. "I used to beg my parents to bring me on this… I'd have stayed on it all night if they'd have let me."

Cyrus was smiling back at her. "I'd've liked to see that," he told her, his voice more serious than might have been warranted, and a shiver ran up Sara's spine. The rational part of her mind blamed it on the wind, even as the Lea-voice snickered derisively.

"It used to look amazing," Sara continued, hoping to cover up her reaction to his words. "When the car got to the top, you'd be able to see the lights of town, boats on the bay, the water glistening… "

"Does the carnival still come there?" Cyrus asked, and she tilted her head, thinking.

"I'm not sure. Probably. I don't go home much," she admitted, somewhat sheepishly. She knew that Cyrus was close to his family, wasn't sure how he'd feel about the fact that she wasn't.

She might have been expecting him to say something disapproving, but he just shrugged, letting the matter go with the simple comment, "You should go back there some time," he said. "See if it's as pretty as you remember."

"Maybe." The lack of enthusiasm in her own voice surprised her, but his only reaction was a raised eyebrow. "I don't know… maybe it's just better to leave well enough alone." Because she didn't have very many happy memories of Tomales Bay, and she didn't want anything to happen to the ones that she did have.

She'd been looking at him this whole time, but now he looked away quickly, looking back at her and jerking his head out into the distance. "Did it look like that?"

Sara followed his gaze, her breath catching at the sight before her. They weren't at the top of the wheel yet, but they weren't far off, and already she could see the lights of Vegas spreading out before them. It was a clear night, and there was a faint smattering of stars in the sky, and at this distance from the ground, the noise of the carnival had faded to background chatter. It felt almost like they were the only two people in the world, and once again, a shiver ran the length of Sara's spine.

"Wow," she said eventually.

A laugh came from the other side of the carriage. "Sara Sidle, speechless. I never thought I'd see the day."

All she could do was laugh in return, because it wasn't something that happened to her often. The lights were a good reason for it though. "It's just… doing what we do, seeing what we see every day… " she began, tearing her eyes from the lights to look at him. "You forget… you don't know how beautiful it looks."

He was quiet for so long that she felt her cheeks growing warm, sure that he would think her crazy. She thought he might make fun of her, but he just nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off her. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I can buy that."

She'd blushed a little during the moment of silence, but now she felt more heat climbing into her cheeks, and she looked away, back up at the lights in the hopes that it wouldn't be noticed. If it was, he didn't comment on it, the next words from his mouth serving to point out one of the landmarks to her, which lead to her doing the same, the small talk banishing any residual embarrassment.

They were laughing again by the time they got off the Ferris wheel, once again beginning to wander aimlessly through the carnival, looking at all the rides that defied gravity, all of which Sara refused point blank to go near. Being turned upside down and inside out wasn't her idea of a good time, though she was having a good time walking through the place with Cyrus, just seeing what was there, looking at other people more brave than she. They must have got there reasonably early Sara decided, because there seemed to be far more people here now than there had been when she and Cyrus were last on the ground. As befitted a carnival, there were a goodly number of children there, all screaming at the top of their lungs, chasing one another around, not paying the slightest bit of attention to where they were going. Sara found this out personally when a little boy, who couldn't have been more than ten years old, ran into her at full tilt, knocking her off balance. She would have fallen had she not grabbed at Cyrus's arm, had he not demonstrated considerable reflexes, one arm going around her waist, the other grabbing her arm. The boy, having no-one to hold on to, ended up sprawled on the ground, leaping to his feet almost instantly, sputtering apologies before running off again, just as quickly. Sara looked at him go, not quite able to find it in her heart to be annoyed at him; after all, she'd been that age once, had run around the Tomales Bay carnival just like that.

"Are you ok?"

She was so lost in memory that Cyrus's voice came as a shock to her, but not as much of a shock as realising that she was in his arms, with him standing as close to her as he had when they'd been slow dancing in his living room. Not only that, but he was staring at her with a look of such concern on his face, such emotion in his eyes, that every drop of moisture evaporated from her mouth.

"Friends," she told herself firmly. "Think friends." Another mocking laugh came from the Lea-voice, and she forced herself to nod, releasing his arm. "I'm fine," she said aloud. "Really."

He didn't look convinced, but he wasn't going to argue with her either. He didn't say anything in fact, just dropped his hand from her arm too, using it to gesture forwards in invitation, indicating that they should keep walking. Sara was only too happy to do so, but she was very aware that he hadn't taken his arm from around her waist, that it was settled there as if that was its rightful place.

She knew she should step away, break the contact because after all, it wasn't a very just-friendly gesture.

She did nothing of the sort.

His arm was still around her waist when they stopped at the next ride. "Teacups," he said, grinning, looking down at her. "My sister Kim hated these… I always used to dare her to ride them and she'd never back down… I've never seen anyone be as sick as she used to get."

The story would have made her laugh were it not for the fact that she was still hung up on the first word. "What did you call them?" she asked curiously.

"Teacups," he replied, casting a glance in that direction. "Why?"

"We always called them Cups And Saucers," she replied. "My mom is terrified of them too." But not her; in fact, they were one of the few rides that she'd ever enjoyed as a child.

"But not you?" The words were uttered with the air of a gauntlet being thrown down, and just like his sister, she'd never been one to back down from a challenge.

The line for the ride was pretty short, the demand surprisingly few, so Sara and Cyrus were able to have a car to themselves, gripping on to the guard-rail tightly, for once unable to talk as centrifugal force flattened them against the back of the Teacup, stealing the breath from their mouths. Sara was still able to muster the wherewithal for an involuntary shriek of mirth when the ride started, another one when the motion slammed her into Cyrus. By the time the ride was winding down, she'd remembered why she loved it as a child, the shouts of the other passengers, the looks on their faces as they whizzed by at speed.

Of course, fun as it was, she also remembered one of the downsides of the ride, and that was the utter havoc that it wreaked on her hair, which, thanks to the Ferris wheel and general wear and tear had already suffered more than enough punishment for one night. As the motion slowed, still laughing, she peeled her hands from their death grip on the barrier, attempting to restore some semblance of order.

"That was fun," she laughed, turning to Cyrus, barely able to observe him through a curtain of hair. He was laughing too, not just from the ride, but from her appearance she thought, and she didn't think anything of it when his hands reached out towards her face.

"Let me help you out there." The words were spoken humorously, but when his hands touched her hair, smoothing it back gently, when Sara felt the first touch of his palm against her skin, when she realised how close together they were sitting, how he was leaning into her, any urge she had to laugh completely disappeared. It seemed that Cyrus was experiencing the same thing, because his smile faded, replaced by the same look that had been on his face right before they bought cotton candy, the same look that had been on his face when they'd danced in his living room.

She knew exactly what he was going to do when he ended up cupping her face in his hands. She knew exactly what was going to happen, and she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to. Frozen in place, she watched as he leaned in, closing any distance between them, and the only movement she made was her eyes flickering closed a split second before he fitted his lips to hers.

The ride was still winding down, but that in no way accounted for the spinning that Sara's head was doing as Cyrus kissed her. Not that it was a long kiss, in fact, as kisses go, it was fairly innocent. But there was nothing innocent in the way that Sara's body reacted to it, or her heart.

She was actually disappointed when Cyrus pulled back, first a smile, then a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "I'm sorry," he breathed, and she could barely hear him over the noise of the carnival. Sorry as he might be though, he didn't move his hands from her face, one thumb tracing a path over her cheek. "But I have wanted to do that for the longest time… "

She knew that she should say something, anything, to him. Something to tell him that it was all right, something to tell him that she didn't mind. She couldn't find the words though, so she did the only thing she could think of.

She leaned forward and kissed him again.

It started off as had the first kiss, almost chaste, but this time it escalated, growing more intense as Sara wound one arm around Cyrus's neck, opening her mouth to him, running her tongue over his upper lip. He pressed her closer to him in response, and she didn't know where it might lead to, and didn't get a chance to find out, interrupted as they were by the sound of a throat being cleared.

Reluctantly they moved apart, finding themselves looking red-faced at a grubbily dressed teenaged boy, baseball cap doing little to disguise the fact that he was as red-faced as they. "You have to get off the ride now," he mumbled, and Sara made to stand, but was stopped by Cyrus's hand moving to her arm.

"Here," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the first note he found and giving it to the boy. "That should cover it." The boy looked like he was going to protest, but the look of barely contained impatience mingled with irritation on Cyrus's face stopped anything that he might have said.

"OK," he said, moving off, and Sara looked at Cyrus in amazement.

"You do realise that was a twenty you just handed him, right?" she asked. "I mean, we could be here all night."

A slow smile spread across his face as her words registered with him. "In that case," he said, drawing her close again, "I'd say it's worth every penny."