Title: Candy Canes and Lollipops
Author: frickangel

Summary: In the lonely nights when her doubts and questions come to haunt her, she searches for the reasons behind her choices. But no matter what, he'll always be there for her. One shot, SaraGreg.
Spoilers: None
A/N: I somehow think this one should be dedicated to singingstarryknights even though we don't know each other. It was her 'Ducks in a Row' series that inspired this. –smiles-

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

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Insanity was the word to use in the subject of her life.

How simple it was when she was married solely to her work and not like now where she led a polygamous life of commitment to both her job and her life at home.

No.

When she guided fate to her existence now, she had not thought of the consequences and the repercussions. She had not thought about how tired she'd be every waking hour, or how easily confused she would be over simple things like laundry day and garbage collection. Unfortunately, she had not thought about many things.

Little ponderings like these have plagued her for the last year and haunted her more in the night when she would step into her apartment alone and lay herself on the couch, willing herself to just crawl to bed. In a bed where she could possibly escape these musings and into the world of her dreams where everything was perfect and just the way she wanted it to be.

And tonight was no exception.

The darkness left the place silent and sterile, all but for the soft fluorescent hues of the fish tank's light. Bubbles escaped from the filter as sweet oxygen seeped into the water, giving the fishes another breath to live.

She watched with hypnotic amusement as the two goldfishes rounded the encasement as if chasing their own silky tails. Dragging herself off from the couch, she brought herself to her pets and reached for the tiny fish pellets, but before she can tilt the bottle to serve, she noted that they had been fed. The small dots of food that floated by, told her so as the ripples disturbed the calm waters.

Uninvited questions eased themselves into the wedges of her mind, asking her why had she said yes, why she had allowed her long built walls to crumble for him so easily and why she would agree to such an arrangement.

Sighing, she turned and took in the smells of her living room and the organised mess it was in. Her fingers did their delicate fairy dance across the magazine pile, colourful soft toys, picture frames that trapped stills of her life, books and more objects. The imaginary music that accompanied her dancing fingers suddenly ceased, forcing her private recital to end prematurely.

So tiny was the thing that made her stop that she could not help but chuckle at herself. Her exhausted body bent forward as her hand reached towards the dark brown carpeting only to pick up a dirty teddy bear.

Twinkles.

Again, her fingers resumed their dancing on Mr Twinkle's nose, its soft fur that once used to be white but only show its greyness. Her fingernails combed through the matted fur, in futile hopes that she could restore its once glorious looks and maybe do the same for her.

Like a golden leaf in autumn breeze, she felt suddenly weary than ever and she fell to her knees as she embraced the toy close to her burdened heart. Like a child, she apologised to it, saying she was sorry for turning it old and dirty and leaving it to alone on the dusty carpet. Somehow, she was tempted to even seek forgiveness from the carpet for trampling upon it.

But no, she would ask another day.

She buried her head into Mr. Twinkles now, trying very hard to stifle the sobs that threatened to burst out.

It was the soft scent of talcum powder and the gentle whispers of the baby soap that engulfed her instead and not the hot tears of self-pity she had expected.

No, it was the memories and emotions that flooded her and reminding her why she was where she was right then. It was such a simple answer that she laughed.

Brushing off from the carpet, she held on tightly to Mr Twinkles and shuffled her feet towards one of the bedrooms, on a mission of returning the bear to its real owner and rescuing it from loneliness.

The door was set ajar allowing tiny wisps of light into the smaller room and letting her shadows creep across the light blue wallpaper. Her body hovered over the bed and for a moment, panic rose from the cold depths of her heart. For you see, the bed was empty and possessed only the crumpled sheets as if to mock her.

Shaking her head, she told herself there was only one other possible place.

Although she knew all was well, her feet wouldn't listen and hastened her to the next room, a bigger room which she practically threw herself into and she prayed.

Whether or not the prayer was valuable, she did not care for it was answered and her reward for being faithful was relief.

There he lay on the bed, his tiny and fragile body in the centre while protected by stronger arms wrapped securely around him. Her eyes gazed trailed upon the two figures slumbering on the bed as she focused on the older, more matured man.

Did she dare intrude upon his sleep?

It seems that she did, for she treaded quietly to him and sat on the edge of the bed, just so slightly. She watched his chest rise and fall and admired the soft dirty blonde curls frame his face. Staring at him, she noticed slight greyness in his strands of hair and she could not help but think back upon the years they spent together and living through every dream and nightmare.

Blinking away the doubts, she found an answer for each of the questions she asked herself earlier. But they were answers that she will keep to her own.

All weariness drew itself away from her body while the love for this man grew stronger each passing second. There were no uncertainties, she had made the right choices regardless of what exhaustion may mean to her because these two people were worth it.

No regrets.

"Sara?"

She jerked awake from her own self-realisation. "Hey…" she wiped away a single tear that she had not known was trickling down. "Did I wake you?"

He paused and rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the sleepy cobwebs in his eyes. "What time did you get in?"

A question to a question wasn't something she had hoped for, "Just an hour ago." She motioned to the small one by his side, "Fell asleep reading to him again?" Sara picked up the small book from his chest.

Chuckling, he dragged himself up and leaned against the pillow before he reached over and switched on a lamp. The orangey light flooded the room with its luminescence that left her feeling warmer than ever now. "Yeah," he stroked the child's dark blonde hair, just like his father has. "Guess we were both more tired than we thought."

She nodded slightly while she traced the edges of the small book; her finger caught the hard cover and flipped it open. Emblazoned in bold dark Parker ink were the words:

To Matthew,

Happy first birthday.

-Gil

Even though the grand occasion had only been months ago, the book was already beginning to show signs of overuse with the curling dog-ears and bits of apple sauce stained its sides.

Her fingers brushed away imaginary dust from the page while trying to smoothen out the page to impossible perfection. She smiled, mostly at herself, and for no apparent reason other than the fact she was happy.

"And speaking of tired…" he continued and studied her face, "You look like hell." He stretched forward and cupped her face with his left hand, giving warmth to her cold face as he gently caressed her cheek.

To be physically feeling his strong loving touch made Sara recognise her stupidity and senselessness of her childish thoughts.

She reached out and grasped his hand in between her own, afraid of her unworthiness to his touch. Gently, she placed her left hand on his open palm, regardless how much longer his fingers were compared to hers. Their gold wedding bands made a soft clinking sound as it met; a reminder that he really was hers. The feeling engulfed her like a crashing wave and she found herself giving in to the tears she had fought so had to hold back.

"Sara?" he pulled her into his arms and rocked her sobbing body back and forth. "Shhh… come on," he whispered into her ears ever so softly, yet his concern could not be hidden. "What's wrong?"

His white shirt soaked her hot tears as she reluctantly released herself from his embrace, "I'm fine," she lied all the while trying to set her crying under control. "I'm just tired."

"You can lie to the world, but not to me." He lightly reprimanded her and repeated himself, "What's wrong?"

Matthew made a gurgling sound and Sara held her breath, hoping that she had not ruined the child's deep sleep. The young one did not rouse from his doze and remained in his dreams much to Sara's relief.

"It's just that…" she inhaled deeply, "Sometimes I come home and I see him and noticed how much his grown. It just hits me, that I missed so much of his life but I can't let go of my work and I don't want to let both of you go."

She searched his face, his eyes trying to find any sign of anger or disappointment but she found only silence; the kind that urged her to continue.

"Late at night I wonder if it'd be better if we never met, we never had Matthew, or if we never got…" she choked on her last word, "if we never got married."

Daring not to look at his face again, for fear of what he might say, Sara quickly resumed; not giving him a chance to interrupt. "Part of me feels like I'm not giving enough, not committing enough and just being a lousy person. I know it seems stupid and childish." She took another breath in, "And I know that now because I look at you and think that I could never have all those doubts and I know, I'm such a lucky, lucky person to have you. Someone as unworthy as me should be grateful and cherish every waking moment I have with you and Matthew."

"It's no-."

She drew her finger to his speaking lips for silence as she finished, the words must come out now while she still held on to the courage, "I decided that I'm not going to care even if you one day wake up and decide that I was a mistake or if… if Matthew realises that he rather be with you than me and I wouldn't care. Because I already feel that, for the past two years, you both have given me so much and I just can't complain or cry unfair. Life has been generous to me because it gave me you and him."

"Hey, hey…" He retrieved her into his embrace again, "I will not leave you and neither will Matthew." He spoke with such unbridled force yet with such love that it surprised even her, "I love you Sara, and I will always love you or my name isn't Greg Sanders."

She pressed her face into the soft cotton of his shirt, greedily taking in the scent of his cologne, his sweat and all traces of him.

"Matthew is half me and half you. And even if he was only one eighth of me, he'll still have a part of Sanders in him and that's the part that will love you no matter what." Holding her away, Greg made her look into his eyes as he spoke, "Do you understand that?"

Even though she had braved herself to answer in force, but her voice betrayed her and only left a whisper, "Yes."

Those strong, gentle, caring hands of his held her face as he wiped the remaining tears with his fingers. Once he had done so, he tenderly laid his forehead upon hers as he held her hands tightly. They broke the moment and he smiled at her, just a simple crooked grin of his.

She could find no other words to profess her love, or show just how much he meant to her but only two words seem to resonate in her mind and she could not bring her voice to say it, but only her lips moved soundlessly, "Thank you…"

Greg chuckled deeply, "For what? Letting me love you?" He propped himself on one knee, setting the impressions on the bed slightly imbalanced as he leaned over to kiss her forehead; sealing and forever locking her insecurities in its depths. "It's an honour, my love."

Planting his legs on the floor, he ruffled his hair in an attempt to tidy it but to no avail, "Now, go take a bath while I go make us some coffee and something to eat," he grinned.

A pang of guilt jabbed her in the ribs, "I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have woken you up."

"Nah," he shrugged, "I needed to get up anyhow, and my shift at the lab starts in a couple of hours."

How soon she forgot. "Oh right, swing."

He nodded and waited to see if she had anything else to say- and she did.

"You know," her voice was almost settled back to its normalcy, except for the few remaining sniffs, "The only reason we shifted to days was because of Matthew."

"Huh…" he snorted, "It's only temporarily. Ecklie's own way of messing with us, there's still some meanness in that old boy." He laughed it off and stretched his body up, still trying to loosen himself from the drowsiness. "Just another week and I'll be back on days with you. Then we can have our normal day shifts, or… whenever the murderers and murderesses of Vegas allow us to."

It was her turn to laugh and before she could utter another word, he had disappeared from the door. The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing told her that her man was in the kitchen like he had promised.

The thought of a warm shower and fresh clothes beckoned to her, but she had other things on her mind. Slowly, she reclined on the bed and lied down exactly where Greg was sleeping upon, hoping to feel another moment of his calmness. Her body turned to face the young child who was still caught in sleep and undisturbed by his surroundings. Sara's fingers curled around his soft blonde hair and sighed. Seeing her own son drabbed in pyjamas imprinted with gold stars and tiny clouds, she felt a type of ecstasy only a mother could feel.

She suddenly remembered Mr Twinkles and she frantically searched for the toy, only to find him on the floor, abandoned once more. Saving it, she scooped the bear off the carpet and whispered an apology again. Turning back to the boy, she gingerly set it right under Matthew's arm where Mr Twinkle's belonged.

The picture was complete and perfect. Lying down next to him, Sara pulled up the comforter over his small body and stared at him just sleeping there, not wanting to miss another minute with her son. She watched as his gripped tighten over Mr Twinkles and then falling back to his dreams. Softly he breathed and occasionally murmuring something unintelligible, but she could only imagine it must be about lollipops and candy canes or whatever toddlers dream about in thei-.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

She jolted awake and never realised she had fallen asleep. "I'm awake…" she mumbled.

"Hungry?"

Momentary depression does leave on rather famished. "Yeah, I guess…"

Greg held out his hand for her to take it, "Come on, I've got a new bottle of maple syrup to go with the hot waffles."

"And hot coffee." Sara reminded him of what was really important.

"And hot coffee." He laughed and guided her to the door, "So, did you dream of anything while you were asleep?"

She paused to consider and softly smiled at him, "Yeah."

"What was it?" He was curious now, and she could imagine him as an eight year old shaking his Christmas presents.

Turning back to look at their slumbering son, she bit her lip and her smile grew wider, "Of candy canes and lollipops."

-

…………

"The maple leaves slowly falling down are like thoughts,
Why must retrieval be hurried before winter comes?
Loving you passing through time,
Two rows of tears from the end of autumn,
Let love pass through the ground,
All I want is you to be at my side."

-Jay Chou, Feng (mandarin for Maple).

----- END -----

A/N: When I started writing this, I was only thinking of a small Sara-Greg chatter and definitely not a full blown Sara rant. How it came to that I will never know. I guess that what happens when you're a lousy writer –rollseyes-.

Thanks for reading.

-Cheers
Jo