Quick thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. Long chapter here, hope you enjoy. A bit under the weather right now, I blame the 90+ hours of work in the last two weeks! But things are slowing down now, so updates should be more frequent, when I start feeling better that is.

Chapter Thirteen: Discussions

Sara stumbled back into Greg, nearly knocking him over. Greg steadied himself with his hand, leaning against the wall as he held on to Sara. Randolph jumped to the side as the figure scurried between his legs, following it with the beam of his own flashlight. They were barely able to see the striped tail as it slipped through the partially open door.

"Raccoon," Randolph breathed easily, turning back to the pair. "Just a raccoon. You okay?"

Sara nodded, letting go her own breath as well. "Yeah," she finally managed, once finding her voice again. Greg rubbed her shoulders as he too calmed down.

"How did it get in?" he wondered, "The bathroom door was closed."

Randolph had taken a few steps inside, glancing around. "Window's open," he commented.

"I opened it last night," Sara confessed, "I completely forgot about it."

"Make a mental note, they're smart critters, and curious, but frightful," Randolph told them, coming back out.

"Well," Greg responded, "That still doesn't explain the door being open, I know I locked it."

"Maybe," Randolph told him with a shrug, "routine can throw you off, doing something every night, if you forget, and then try and remember if you did, it can get confusing."

Greg nodded dully, but it was easy to tell he wasn't convinced. Randolph started to make his way around the room when another scream was heard, this time, from outside. Greg and Sara followed Randolph to the door, before the detective ordered them to stay inside.

Glancing outside, Greg could tell why. Just beyond the road that led to their cabin was form, lying face down in the snow. Randolph was already calling for help, even as he approached. Greg had pulled Sara back into the room, shutting the door quietly.

"You doing okay?" Greg asked, turning to her.

Sara nodded, but said nothing as the pair went to the window. They watched silently as Randolph talked with another person, some ways down from where the DB was. Next to him, Sara shook her head.

"Two bodies Greg?"

He nodded in agreement. "Something's up," he told her.

It was nearly an hour later that Randolph returned, knocking on their door easily. Greg and Sara had not fallen asleep since waking up, unable to get comfortable after their encounter. The detective nodded to the both of them.

"This is kind of pointless, but it's procedure, you didn't see anything unusual did you?"

Greg shook his head, "Nothing, well, other than our woodland friend," he added. "And what you told us."

Randolph nodded, "Death looks accidental, but they won't be sure until autopsy is completed. Broken neck, area gets slick," he commented quietly. He watched Greg nod before continuing. "You two should get some rest, everything is secure, and power should be back on soon. Stiles said some critter got a hold of the wires. Happened a few years back apparently. Been telling the board we need new covers for a while now."

Greg nodded again, but didn't say anything; he only closed the door as he left, sitting down next to Sara with a sigh. He grinned softly, seeing that she had fallen asleep on the couch there. Fetching a blanket from the bed, he covered her before checking to make sure the door was locked before crawling back in his own bed, not certain if he would be able to sleep, but willing to try.

He was in a better mood, later that morning, he had been able to catch a few more hours of sleep, and though still tired, he felt much more refreshed. The power was back by the time he woke up, something he was quite thankful for; he needed a shower.

The hot water felt wonderful, as Greg relaxed under the warm spray. He would be glad once he was back home, no more surprises, no more restless nights. These were the thoughts on his mind as he dressed, pulling on his last clean shirt. He cleaned the stitching around his knuckles, being careful not to move the casting to much. It had become a regular process now, cleaning them daily, and taking two pills with lunch normally saw him through the day with little pain. The doctor would want to see him in again here soon. Once finished, Greg wrapped the stitches back up, wondering when he wouldn't have to do so any more. Drying his hair, he left the bathroom, turning towards his dresser.

"We need to get laundry done today," he told Sara, digging through several of the doors, frowning slightly.

"You haven't seen my sweater, have you?" Greg wondered, looking through another drawer. "I thought I left it out."

Sara looked up from the couch where she was reading, "You mean the green fluffy one that's too big for you?"

"Hey," Greg commented, "I like my sweaters big. Anyways, that's the one."

Sara shook her head, going back to reading. "Nope, haven't seen it."

Greg let out a sigh as he closed the drawer, straightening up. Turning around, he frowned, watching Sara.

"So, you haven't seen it at all?" he asked.

"Not at all," she replied, turning the page.

Greg walked over to the couch, stopping in front of her, holding out his hand. "Okay, hand it over."

Sara looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. "Uhh…no," she told him quietly.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "No?" he repeated, watching her.

"It's comfortable," she responded, her voice even quieter.

"That's the last sweater I have Sara, now give it up," he told her, but when she didn't make any move he prompted her more. "I'll give you to the count of three to hand it over, or else you will have to face the consequences." He was trying to be serious, but couldn't help the smile that crept over his face.

Sara grinned up at him as he started counting. When he had reached two, she jumped off the couch past him, running towards the bathroom. Greg lunged after her, reaching out, but came up with only empty air. "Sara, come back here!" he called after her.

She laughed, "Catch me first, then you can have your sweater." She came to a stop as Greg cut her off. She turned around and jumped over the bed that was blocking her way, heading into the kitchen.

Greg was able to cut her off again, matching her move for move around the small island counter. This went on for some time before he tried reaching across to grab a hold of her, but to no avail as she slipped past him again. She had only taken a few steps past him when he finally managed a hold on her. Still running, Sara stumbled, pulling Greg down with her to the floor. He landed over her awkwardly, slightly afraid he had hurt her, but he was glad to find that she was laughing, staring up at him. He propped himself up a little with one elbow. He was still laying over her, pinning her to the floor.

"Caught you," he told her softly, breathing heavily.

"Only because I let you," she answered, her breaths coming in heavy pants as well. They stayed like this for a moment, before Greg leaned down, kissing her gently. Sara smiled when he pulled back, rubbing his face gently.

For a moment, neither spoke, they just watched each other, before Sara looked away, blushing slightly. "We better hurry if we're going to do it," she told him.

Greg blushed, raising an eyebrow. "Sara…I don't know about you, but don't you think it's a little soon?" he asked her.

"Well," she told him, looking back up at him. "It's just not going to happen all by itself."

"We could go a little faster I suppose, but shouldn't we know about each other a little more before doing anything?" Greg wondered.

Sara blinked, watching him. "Like what?"

"Well," Greg shrugged, "For starters, I don't know really know you outside of work, I mean, I don't even know your family."

Sara laughed slightly. "You want to meet my parents before we do laundry together?"

Greg blinked, "Laundry?"

She laughed again, pushing him off as she sat up some. "Yes, laundry. You said it yourself, it needs to be done. Why do you think I'm wearing you're sweater?"

Greg nodded, standing quickly. "Laundry, of course," he held his hand out to her, helping her up.

She grinned at him, giggling some. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing," Greg answered, going over to the dresser again. "Nothing at all."

"Uh huh," she laughed, "I've already told you that you're a terrible liar."

Greg blushed, pulling his shoes on. "I'm going to do some laundry," Greg told her, "and give me my sweater back; I won it fair and square."

"Not until you tell me what you were thinking," Sara grinned.

Greg frowned at her, "You really are evil," he told her, "Nick warned me about that. I should have listened. You can keep the sweater in that case."

Sara laughed, pulling on her own boots, "Thanks, it looks better on me anyways."

Greg only shook his head as they continued to get ready. It took about an hour to gather everything up, and carry it down to the laundry mat, both of them taking care of their own clothes. After getting the loads going, the pair went to the small coffee shop. They didn't need to tell the owner what kinds they wanted; she had learned quickly that they always got the same thing.

Greg took a sip of his own drink, closing his eyes as the familiar aroma hit him. He would have to find more of this when they went back. If Las Vegas even carried any that was.

"So," Sara asked him quietly, as the two walked around the perimeter of the lake. It was still frozen, and it attracted many skaters daily. Greg watched some of the younger kids skate before he shrugged.

"So what?"

"What do think, about what's going on?" Sara prompted.

Coming to a bench, Greg cleared off the snow, taking a seat. Sara did the same, sitting next to him. "I don't know what to think." He answered honestly.

"Well, tell me what you think. If you were evaluating this, what would you say?"

Greg laughed, "What, are you training me now?"

"Well, I am in charge," Sara pointed out, smiling. "Seriously now. Take what you know, apply everything; what do you conclude?"

Greg let out a sigh, thinking for a moment. "Two bodies, both male, early twenties. Both died within days of each other, in the same area. Both are listed as accidental, but not confirmed as accidental yet." He shrugged, "Without the evidence, it's hard to tell. It's possible, but unlikely."

Sara agreed. "They both had broken necks too," she pointed out.

Greg nodded, "Yeah, something's not right though, I can feel it."

She grinned, "What, are you a clairvoyant now?"

"With me, you never know. Like I said before, there still is a lot we need to learn about each other."

Sara laughed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Okay, when I was in third grade, I skipped a spelling test because I didn't study at all for it. I told the teacher I had gotten lost on the way to the bathroom."

Greg chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Third grade, isn't that a little young to be skipping tests? Did they even believe you?"

She laughed along with him, "Yes, actually, because it was true."

Greg shook his head, prompting her to explain. "I asked if I could use the bathroom before the test. I was going to go there, wait a few minutes then come back and tell the teacher that I had gotten sick. But I was new in the school and ended up lost. Another teacher found me wandering the halls. I was tempted to tell him that I got sick, but all I could say was that I was lost. By the time he got me back to class, the test was over."

"What you get for trying to get out of a test," Greg said with an easy shrug.

"You mean to tell me that you've never skipped a test before?"

Greg held up a finger, "Once. I was in college, called my chemistry teacher and told him that I couldn't make it in. He said that it was fine because the final was pushed back to the following week, and that we had started on DNA analysis a week early. Completely excited, I showed up twenty minutes into testing."

Sara laughed, putting her cup down as she glanced at him. "You fell for that old trick?" she asked, laughing still.

Greg shrugged, "What can I say; I'm a sucker for DNA. He knew that too." He took another long sip of his coffee, finishing it off. "Now what?"

Sara thought for a moment, "Favorite food?"

"Anything drowned in chocolate?" Greg suggested, grinning as she shook her head. "Honestly, anything edible goes. I don't have too many favorites. I try all different things."

"Fruit, grapes especially. Hard to find sometimes; expensive." Sara told him. "Favorite color?"

Greg glanced down at his wardrobe, scanning the various colors before glancing back up at her with a shrug. She nodded, "Impossible question, I know," she smiled.

"I just don't really favor anything I guess."

"Okay, dislikes then. Name something that really irritates you."

Greg was quiet as he thought again, before grinning. Turning towards her, he swung his legs up onto the bench.

"Okay, you know Star Wars right?"

Sara frowned as she shrugged, "Enough I guess, but if you find it annoying, then don't pay any attention to it."

Greg laughed, shaking his head. "Just listen. One of the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, raised a student, Anakin Skywalker, who in turn decimated the entire Jedi Order, most of it anyhow. In order to save the Jedi, Obi-Wan hid his student's children, one of them, Luke Skywalker, he hid with a man called Owen Lars. Now, some sources say that Owen Lars was Obi-Wan Kenobi's brother. But if they were brothers, than that means that Anakin would have been his brother, because Owen Lars was the son of the second man who married Shimi Skywalker, Anakin's mother. But Anakin and Obi-Wan had no relationship to each other. Besides that, there are three different names, Kenobi, Skywalker, and Lars. It's just not possible."

Sara just sat there, watching him. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "You need to learn to let these things go." She told him quietly.

Greg shrugged. "You asked," he responded. "So then, what bothers you?"

Sara let out a sigh. "People," she muttered.

"People in general? Or people like me?" Greg prompted.

She laughed, "People in general, although you're not too far off. I guess it's not so much as people as it is what they do. Some people think they can do anything; they don't think how it affects others. I've seen so many cases where someone ends up dead over such a small matter. It's awful."

Greg nodded, the mood a sudden change. "It's not right," Greg spoke quietly. Sara was quiet as she stood up, watching him for a moment.

"Come on, our clothes should be done," she told him, shaking off the clouded feeling.

Greg agreed, following after her, the two walking side by side once the path widened again.

"So," Sara asked softly, "Who exactly is whose brother again?"

TBC