Foretold by SLynn

Summary: A woman walks into the crime lab only to tell Greg Sanders about her murder, a murder he's going to solve. Is she just playing games or is it something more?

Spoilers: Through 'Gum Drops'

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing and will return them all when I'm done, virtually untouched.

Notes: This is as canon as I can make it. To be honest, I've tried deciphering Sara from what the show's given us and had to give up. So largely, I made this up.

"If you say that you are mine
I'll be here 'til the end of time
So you got to let know
Should I stay or should I go?"

The Clash 'Should I Stay or Should I Go?'

"You say I only hear what I want to."

Lisa Loeb 'Stay'

Chapter 15: Stay

Sara wasn't sure what to say and Greg seemed too embarrassed to talk. So, after Greg invited her in and got them both drinks, they sat in an uncomfortable silence.

Every thing she could think of to say felt inappropriate and she certainly couldn't launch into her prepared speech now. Sara didn't have the heart for it.

She needn't have been worried.

Greg had already guessed why she was there. In fact, when Anne had shown up at his door that evening he'd thought it was Sara.

"Let's get out of here,' Greg said, suddenly getting to his feet and offering her a hand up.

Sara hesitated.

"I know why you're here," Greg continued. "After this morning… I can put two and two together, no matter what Anne might say. I just… let's go somewhere where I won't cause a scene. Okay?"

Sara could tell he was trying, trying very hard in fact, to make as light of the situation as he could. He probably did know what she was going to say; probably better than she did. So she'd agreed. Greg threw on a work-appropriate shirt, just in case, and they were off in less than five minutes to a casual sushi place they'd been to a few times before.

After ordering they sat in an uneasy, icy silence surrounded by other happier couples who were laughing and smiling and generally making them both feel worse.

"I am sorry," Sara said quietly, "about this. I really am."

"Don't be sorry," Greg quickly corrected. "I mean, don't feel bad. If you don't feel the same…"

"Greg," she cut in, "it's not that. Really. I do think… I mean, if things were different…"

"Is this the 'we work together' speech again? Because, Sara, you're not a good liar. I know that's not it. Just tell me the truth. Is it my hair? Do I remind you of your brother or something?"

"No," Sara laughed, relaxing for the first time and happy to see he had a bit as well. "No, it's definitely not that. I kind of like your hair."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, smiling back at him. "It's just… it's very complicated."

"Try me."

Sara sat sipping her water and considering it.

"I'm not good at relationships," she finally said, quickly adding. "And don't tell me it's because I haven't met the right guy yet. I've tried. I've tried plenty of times and it just never… it never works out for me. I just think some people are meant to be alone. They're better off that way."

"You can't believe that."

Sara shrugged in a noncommittal fashion, letting him know it was his choice.

"You just can't," he echoed.

"Greg," she sighed, "I'm serious. Some people just are."

"Well yes," he agreed, "some people are. But you? You think you should spend your whole life alone? Why?"

"It's…"

"Complicated?" he supplied.

"Private."

Greg sat back in his chair and sighed, knowing he'd lost for good this time. Sara was shutting him off bit by bit. It was almost painful.

"Alright," he said, shrugging his shoulders much as she had. "I give up. You know, the last time we had this conversation, it never really sunk in. I'd thought you still felt… I don't know… something for me. That you might change your mind. And then last night… after last night, I hoped you had."

Greg paused hoping she'd stop him, but she didn't.

"I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for you to decide what you want. Sara, I'm crazy about you, but I just can't do that. And I feel like a fool for waiting this long because it just seems to me that you don't care. Or, if you do, you won't let yourself. So, I'm done. I'm done."

"You don't understand," she started, sounding angry even, "you don't know why…"

"I don't know because you won't tell me."

Sara turned her head away quickly, almost as if he'd slapped her; the words stung.

They were both thankfully interrupted by the arrival of their dinners. For several long minutes ate in silence.

"I'm afraid of becoming my mother," Sara blurted out in-between bites.

Greg, not sure how to react, or even if he should, just looked up briefly from his plate and met her eyes.

"I'm afraid that I'll just wake up one morning…"

Sara just suddenly stopped talking and brought her hands to her face.

For what felt like an eternity Greg just stared at her, completely shocked and deeply ashamed. He had wanted a reaction from her, some sign that might prove him wrong, but he hadn't wanted this.

"Sara," he tried, lowering his voice and taking her hands in his, "please. Sara. I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"It's okay," she assured him, still sounding off. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

Sara gathered her composure and looked up at him. She wasn't mad at Greg, she really wasn't. How could she be, he was right. She'd never told him.

She just didn't like thinking about her past, but sometimes it seemed like the only thing that filled her head; the only thing that drove her future.

And it was now or never.

Sara knew that. She knew that if she didn't tell him now, she never would. And that would mean letting go; really letting go of something that could be, might be, great.

Something that would be real.

"Let's get out of here."

They'd sat in his car.

They'd sat in his car in front of her apartment as Sara told Greg everything she knew and could recall about her parents.

They'd been happy once, Sara was sure of it. She remembered the sound of her mother's laugh. She remembered how her father had called them both 'his girls'. But most of all she remembered the night it had all ended.

A few doctors and a lawyer had claimed it was a 'psychotic break'. That Laura Sidle had 'snapped' one night and killed her husband in her sleep. Sara hadn't believed it, but a judge and jury had.

Sara couldn't accept it because there had to be a reason. No one kills without a reason, without a clue as to why. Especially not someone they'd seemed to love so much.

For years she denied it. She'd pushed it from her mind. Ignored it and pushed it from her mind, but it wouldn't let her rest.

And if she wasn't busy ignoring the truth, she was apologizing for it. Making her own excuses. He must have abused her. He must have cheated. Or her, it had been her. Jealous, malicious, evil. There had to be something.

It wasn't until recently that Sara began to accept the truth. That there was no reason.

Years as a CSI had taught her that sometimes there was no reason.

And that was the hardest part.

There was no reason.

Her mother had killed her father for no reason, and if she could, so could Sara.

"I meant it," she said softly, after repeating the whole of to him. "I meant just what I said. I'm afraid of hurting you. Of hurting anyone I could… Of just snapping…"

"You're not your mother," Greg interjected quickly.

"I'm my mother's daughter."

"That's not going to happen to you."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I don't. Not really."

Sara stared at him disbelievingly.

"But no one does," he countered. "That's life. Good or bad, that's what it is. You're not supposed to know what happens in the future."

"This coming from the man whose reading a 'psychic's' journal hoping to solve a twenty year old crime."

"That's beside the point," Greg said with a smile which Sara just managed to return.

"So what is the point?"

"The point," Greg answered, "is that you shouldn't be afraid of all the things that might happen or you'll miss out on all the things that could."

Sara sat and considered it. Really considered what he was saying.

"Who taught you that?" she asked after a lengthy pause.

"Papa Olaf."

"Well," Sara said, "it sounds like he was a really smart man."

"He was," Greg agreed, "but I think he got that off of a fortune cookie."

It wasn't true, but it had the desired effect.

Sara laughed.