Title: Star 69

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing:  Sara/Lockwood, Sara/Warrick friendship

Spoilers: Inside the Box

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate () , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Summary:  It's been a year…

Notes: For the LiveJournal CSReports "Anniversary" challenge, where you also had to use one of the previous challenges – I picked REM song titles. Another one based in the A Fool for Lesser Things universe. 

***

Warrick's worked with Sara for four years now, is pretty sure he knows what to expect from her. So he's pretty surprised when, having extracted a confession from the guy they've been chasing for over a week, he goes into the observation room and finds it empty.

Surprise rapidly gives way to concern though, because Sara's not been herself lately, skipping the interview just one symptom of a wider disease. Turning, he head towards the lobby, intending to ask the receptionist has she seen Sara. Such enquiries are rendered redundant when he sees Sara there, arms wrapped around herself, staring off into space.

"Hey girl," he says, walking up to her. "You see that?"

She turns to him, nodding and smiling with a vaguely distracted air. "Yeah, he went," she said. "Good work." But by the time she says the second sentence, she's turned away from him, is staring off into space again.

Then he realises that she's not staring into space.

She's staring at a dark wall of stars, at one star in particular.

That's when it all makes sense.

 "Sara?" he asks gently, dismayed to see her swallow hard, tears in her eyes.

"Star 69," she says to him, pointing it out. "Not even a name… just the 69th cop killed in the line in a given period of time… like he didn't even matter."

Warrick sighs, stepping closer to her. "He mattered," is all he says, wishing he could say something, anything, that would take away her pain. Truth to tell, he didn't realise sooner that it's almost a year since fate played the cruellest trick imaginable on Sara, a year since Cyrus was shot and killed.

He, like everyone else, kept a close eye on Sara after that, but he's dropped the ball on it lately, because she's been doing better, or at least, so he thought. But anniversaries are hard, he knows that from personal experience, and he promises himself – promises Cyrus come to that – that he's not going to make that mistake again.

So he reaches up, puts an arm around Sara's shoulder, and it's a measure of how low she's feeling that she not only doesn't push him away, but leans into him, as if he's the only thing holding her up. "I miss him Warrick." The words are so quiet that he can barely hear them, but he squeezes her shoulder to let her know he did.

"You know I'm here for you, right?"

She straightens, grins, wipes at her eyes. "I know."

"Sara." His voice is firm, and he holds her gaze, and her shoulder,  until she looks away, more tears threatening.

"Thank you," she whispers, not looking at him, and that's when he drops his hand, moving his other one to her back, ushering her to the exit.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get back."

She throws one last glance back to the star on the wall. Then she follows him out into the light.