NOTE: I just re posted this new chapter because I realized it had some errors in it... hopefully I got them all! Sorry about that.
A/N: Not much to say besides thanks a million for all the reviews- they just blow me away every time. (hugs to everyone!) Night Train- Bruce Cockburn. Don't own it. Don't own CSI either. Which is a depressing thought. Anyway, onward!
Chapter Title: Night Train
Sara smiled in spite of herself as she walked steadily toward the plane entrance, putting on a brave face as a flight hostess took her ticket, tore the reservation piece off, and handed it back to her.
"Thank you, ma'am. Have a pleasant flight."
Sara offered the uniformed woman a tight lipped smile as she accepted the ticket with a nod before stepping on board. She took in the seventy-something seats of the relatively small aircraft with little joy. Her dark eyes flickered for a moment back to the pass in her hand and she searched fleetingly for a seat number. E6.
She looked back up, and spotted the row labeled "E" a few sets down from the entrance. Pleased when she found that E6 was a window seat on the right side of the plane, Sara sat down, keeping her small backpack on her lap; she'd later appreciate having something remotely huggable in front of her. She wouldn't enjoy taking off. She never did.
A kind looking man walked past Sara's row, staring intently at his ticket before halting abruptly and taking two steps back in the bustle of passengers boarding the plane. He searched for the seat sign and quickly displayed a smile that told her he'd found what he was looking for.
"Row E. Perfect." Unlike Sara, he stuffed what appeared to be a laptop case into the overhead storage before taking a seat right beside her.
"Good Morning."
Her eyes seemed to jump as the greeting directed brought her back to earth.
"Oh, uh, hello." Sara managed a sheepish smile before hastily unwrapping her arms from her backpack absentmindedly.
"Like a furnace today, hey? Don't think San Fran will be much better, but I suppose it's coastal…"
"Yeah. It'll be cooler than here." She caught the man's eye and suddenly found herself wishing that he'd stop talking to her. More than anything, She wanted to be alone with her thoughts- no matter how little she trusted herself with them.
"You a local?"
"Erm, yeah… or well, I was, anyway."
The man chuckled politely, removing a pair of what were probably fairly high end sunglasses from atop his peasant cap and sliding them into his breast pocket. "Las Vegas local- with all the tourists like me that supposedly come here annually, it's a wonder there are so many permanent residents."
Her mouth contorted into a tight lipped smile. Unable to think of much else to say, she just agreed. "True."
Just before the social man could continue their conversation, the captain clicked onto the speakers. Sara sighed in inward relief. Her thoughts were so preoccupied that she barely heard the pilot speaking. A young child's wail stung her ears momentarily, but she hardly noticed.
"A good morning to all of you here on flight 748, this is your captain Pierre speaking. As conditions stand at present, the flight to Reno should take 45 minutes. From there, we're expecting a half hour delay before flying back west to San Francisco, thanks in part to extremely high wind speeds and a high degree of turbulence in the area. We appologise for this in advance, and if there is anything we can do to make your experience better, please do not hesitate to use the page button above each of your seats. I'm told that there is a short in-flight movie; My Big Fat Greek Wedding." The voice over the speakers chuckled. Sara had never seen the movie, but Greg had told her it was a good one. But the captain quickly collected himself again and continued. "Please enjoy the flight; we'll be back on the speaker closer to landing time. Thank you for using America West."
And he clicked off.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could direct your attention to the front of the plane, we'll run through our emergency procedures with you before takeoff." A petite flight attendant decked out in an America West uniform piped up almost immediately after the captain had finished, throwing an attention grabbing arm in the air above her head. In her hand she held a copy of the pretty standard safety manual that had been tucked into the back of every seat. Sara sighed inwardly and obediently took the manual from the seat in front of her, leaving it unopened on her lap as she watched the woman demonstrate how to do up a seatbelt.
She desperately wanted to sleep. To remove herself, if even only for a little, from the reality of her situation. Maybe she'd dream about Nick…
………
"Ma'am, would you like some pretzels?"
Sara woke from her doze to see a pleasant looking flight attendant hunched over the other two people who sat closer to the aisle than her. She must have actually dropped off during the demonstration; and the woman hadn't noticed she was asleep. Probably because she was curled up facing the wall; it looked like she was merely staring out the window with some degree of concentration. Sara blinked the sleep from her eyes before answering. She couldn't have been asleep for long.
"Oh, um, yeah… sure. Thanks." Her voice was something between a whisper and normal speech- probably verging on too quiet for the flight attendant to hear well. But if she didn't hear Sara well, she handed her a small packet of the typical airplane sustenance anyway.
"Anything to drink?"
"Coffee… would be nice."
The woman popped a small notebook from her belt and jotted something down, then tore out the sheet and handed it to her. "Hang on to this and just leave it on your seat when we land, alright?" Another woman pushed up a sizable drink trolley loaded with cans of pop, water, and tall thermoses from behind.
"Thanks."
Sara looked back out her window; the desert sky was still stained with darkness even at this altitude; the sun just rising. The flight attendant interrupted her observation as she placed a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the little pull down table that dropped down from the seat in front of her.
"It might be a little too hot…"
"No, no… don't worry about it." The brunette answered absent mindedly, struggling to peel her eyes off the window beside her even to thank the woman. But she accepted the drink with a nod, and held the war cup in her admittedly shaking hands. It was so warm, but as she stared back out the window, the downpour that came was cold as the frost of the past…
Ice cube in a dark drink shines like star light,
Starlight shines like glass shards in dark hair…
And in the absence of a vision…
… There are nightmares…
"Hey Cath… can I talk to you a sec?" Nick had hung at the back of the group as they found their way back to the airport parking lot. The others had solemnly granted his silent request to be left alone for a few minutes and walked ahead, leaving him to stroll unhurriedly in their wake, gathering his thoughts. The slender blonde woman turned upon hearing her name, catching the attention of Warrick, who had stayed at her side. She nodded for him to keep walking as she waited up for Nick, a compassionate look crossing her face.
"Sure Nicky."
The pair just ambled along together in shared silence for a while, and eventually they lost sight of everyone. Nick wasn't sure how to ask what he was about to, or even if Catherine would know the answer if he did. Actually, he was just about certain Catherine didn't have the answer. But he couldn't get the vision out of his head… He couldn't stand the thought of Sara crying… and him not being there to wipe the tears…
And the mind's eye tumbles out along the steel track…
Fixing every shadow with its stare…
Finally it was too much for him to take, and he blurted it out.
"Cath, level with me- is she going to be okay? Can she handle this?"
Catherine stopped dead in her tracks, and traced the lines of his dark eyes with her own. There was something there- something she'd never seen before. And for the first time in a long time, she knew she couldn't answer with the certainty that science provided…
"Look Nicky… Sara's a good CSI, and she's seen this stuff before. We all have—"
Nick gave her a look that told her he knew she wasn't really answering him. She let out a heavy sigh; not in frustration, but more in thought.
"I don't know. I think so, but…"
And in the absence of a vision…
There are nightmares…
"We all have our demons… and she's gone off to fight hers…"
The talkative man who sat beside Sara on the flight chatted at her for nearly the entire duration of the trip, something that probably should have bothered her. But it provided a constant humming of white noise that again graciously put her to sleep. When she finally woke up again, she found that she was wearing a pair of glasses she'd never seen before, and a kid sitting just behind her chuckled. Confused, she removed them and rolled her eyes when she realized the glasses had trick lenses that gave your eyes an 'always open' look. Hardly caring that she'd been pranked (if you could call it that), Sara handed the glasses over the rear of her seat wordlessly, back to the eight year old boy that still giggled girlishly. She figured she napped through nearly the entire flight, because she didn't remember landing in Reno, and the guy to her left that still had yet to stop talking took the liberty of informing her that they were about ten minutes from San Francisco.
Sara just sat silently in her chair waiting to land, still politely ignoring the stranger next to her as she mulled over her thoughts once again; there was no point in making an effort now- in half an hour it would be unlikely that she'd ever see him again anyway.
Her mind's view drifted briefly over Grissom- what had he meant earlier when he told her he was sorry? Somehow, she doubted she'd ever know, unless she questioned him directly. And even then, the guy was an expert at avoidance; both of questions and occasionally… reality. But thinking about it made her feel better, because it frustrated her. The frustration was a welcome change to the guilt. Anger was better than sadness… that inner fury was what had gotten her through all the shit she'd dealt with in the past, Nick's abduction included. But she didn't want to shut herself off from the world again. Anger too often turned into the bitter cold isolation that only her Vegas Texan had managed to melt… and if he wasn't going to be around…
Her stomach lurched. A combination of turbulence and sudden drop in altitude that seemed so extreme it felt like a nosedive, and the self destructive thoughts that filled her head upon contemplation on life without Nick.
It hadn't even been three hours, and already she wasn't sure if she could handle much more. But she'd get through it.
…whose banner waves over palaces and mean streets…
And the rhythm of the night train…
Is a mantra…
Finally walking off the plain in a bit of a stupor, Sara clutched tightly the strap of the backpack that swung round her shoulder. A familiar voice greeted her almost immediately as she exited the gates. She searched the crowd for the source of the address, holding a stubborn smile to her face that she hoped came across holding more warmth than what she felt at her lips. But something flipped inside her when her deep eyes found him.
"Blaze!"
A/N: Looking back on it, I suppose I may have downplayed some of the other stuff in Sara's past… (Her childhood, etc)... I guess it's just not entirely relevant, yet anyway.
Bit of a filler chapter, but it needed something; if only to delve just a little into Sara's thoughts and the Catherine/Nick confidant relationship.:) Sorry for the cliffie… scream at me in your review, please? (grins) Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon with another chapter! (or two… :))
Until next time…
-Sahariah
(Oh, and a shiny penny for NTC (Cat)- Couldn't reply to your review, but thanks. :) )