Okay, here ya go!

A/N: I know that this scenario has been done a few times but I hope I gave it enough of a twist. Besides, I needed it to add tension to the story. And don't lie to me, I know you like tension!

Sara's expression was still glazed when we arrived at the gate, so I patiently took her hand and led her through the airport. From baggage claim, I called a hotel and booked us a room.

Sara still hadn't spoken when we got in the taxi. She was quiet the entire ride and only leaned heavily into my side. It occurred to me that in the last few hours, I had had more physical contact with Sara than I had had with her in perhaps our entire relationship before.

On some level I also registered how natural it felt to hold her in my arms but I excused the contact away. She was emotionally and physically exhausted; everyone would need a shoulder to lean on in her situation. What amazed me was that until recently, I would have thought that Sara Sidle would have been the exception.

By the time we got to the hotel, it was nearly five o'clock in the morning and pale sunlight was beginning to creep in through the windows. After drawing the shades, I led Sara to the bed closest to the bathroom. I removed her shoes and covered her with the blanket. Not thinking much of it, I leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Get some rest," I whispered, her eyes were already closing, "Just a few hours and then we'll go."

I still had enough energy to brush my teeth and take a quick shower. I emerged from the bathroom a little while later to see that Sara had kicked off her blankets and removed her socks and pants, leaving her in a black cotton tank top and navy blue boy shorts underwear. She was snoring lightly when I pulled the sheets up over her. Then I quietly padded over and disrobed similarly before tucking myself into the opposite bed.

It took me a while to fall asleep. I was too busy thinking of the events in Sara's life. I don't think I will ever be able to imagine the pain she must have felt everyday, just wondering what her children were doing, if they were okay. I know she tried not to think of them as hers, and I'm sure they had two very loving fathers, but even so. They are a part of her. Just like Lindsey is a part of me.

And the added guilt of feeling like she was betraying her best friends just by thinking things that were only natural for her to think? God, no wonder she was so miserable.

I finally drifted off around six, but my dreams were fragmented.

Watching Lindsey from behind a thick glass pane, she starts to cross the street without looking and I yell out and bang on the glass but she doesn't hear me…

The dream shifted.

Sara, crying into my arms and my hands in her hair but then she stands up slowly, her face scant inches above my own, her lips are so full and I hear my pulse throb in my ears, I can feel the throbbing throughout my body. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is heavy, her hands are moving to my hips…

In front of me a car is flooding with water, "Lindsey!" I'm screaming and running towards the car. "What, Mom?" And Lindsey is right next to me holding two coffee cups, but she is older- at least twenty, maybe twenty-five. And I look in the car window and trapped inside is a little girl that looks just like Sara…but with curly brown hair…

I was pulled hazily out of the dream by a soft touch on my back, "Hey, shh, Catherine. Calm down, baby, it was just a dream. You're okay." It was Sara's comforting whisper I heard, her strong hand rubbing circles into my back.

I don't think I thought twice before I reached back, my eyes still shut, and took her wrist, gently pulling her down as I turned to my side, so that she wound up lying behind me, her chest, torso, and legs parallel to my own. "Sara," I whispered sleepily, "I was so worried about you," I wrapped her arm around my waist and covered it with my own.

It was only after I had so unceremoniously pulled us into this position that I woke up enough realize what I had done. I could feel the uncertainty in Sara's posture and I stiffened in response. But it only took a second for Sara to adjust, pulling me closer and reaching her other arm up to nestle her fingers in my hair. I sensed her head lifting up behind me and I felt her lips pressed against my bare shoulder.

"Well, I'm right here, baby, and I'm not going anywhere," she whispered in my ear. It was comforting and I felt my nightmares fade away, "Go back to sleep. I'll watch over you. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Still in my sleep induced stupor, I relaxed into her and sighed, "Promise?"

"Promise," came the reply.

I fell back asleep at once, but this time it was a dreamless and peaceful sleep. When I woke up the second time it was to answer the blaring telephone.

"What?" I groaned.

My movement elicited an equally grumpy growl of protest from my sleeping partner. Not really remembering where I was, I giggled and gave in when I felt an arm slink around my waist and pull me back to my previous position, dragging the phone along with me.

"Good morning, Miss Willows," said an abnormally cheerful voice, "This is your complimentary call to inform you that check out is in thirty minutes."

"What?" I grumbled. "Check out isn't until one o'clock."

"That's right, Miss Willows," said the chirpy little songbird on the other end. I immediately vowed to steal whatever pills were making this woman this happy. "It is twelve-thirty on Thursday morning, the fifteenth of May in the year 2004!"

Well now she's just being cheeky, I thought before the first part of her sentence sunk in. 12:30? How was it possible that I had slept for almost seven hours? I wasn't even that tired. But apparently I had been.

"Oh, okay, umm…thanks."

"You're quite welcome! Have a wonderful day."

"Whatever." 12:30 or not, it was way too early for me to be hospitable.

I tried to reach over and put the phone back into the receiver, but the arm around my waist, or rather the person attached to it, was having none of it. There was another groan of disapproval from behind me and the arm tightened around me as a knee pushed it's way between my legs and an ankle sneakily snaked around my calf, successfully capturing its prey.

Hmm…shaved legs. It had been a while since I had woken up in this position with a woman.

I laughed at the grumbling, "Come on, Sara. It's time to get up."

"No!" The voice was muffled in the pillows but still sounded like a petulant child.

And that's when it hit me. The whole night came rushing back to me. Sara. Sara Sidle. Sara Sidle spooning. Sara Sidle spooning with me, Catherine Willows. In. Our. Underwear. Shit!

I quickly reviewed the night in my head. We definitely fell asleep in separate beds. We definitely woke up in the same one. Yeah. I could feel fingernails lightly scratching my abdomen, one finger digging gently into my navel. Oh, boy. Definitely the same bed.

I needed to figure out what had happened and fast. Think, Catherine, think!

I was sleeping, I was dreaming. Bad dreams; nightmares. And then the cool hand on my back and…

I mentally kicked myself as I dimly remembered pulling Sara into my bed. You brought this upon yourself, Catherine! What was she thinking about me at this very moment? Probably how I must be completely insane. No, hold the phone…wasn't it her who pulled me back? She probably just doesn't realize where we are yet- who I am. Right. Great.

"Uhh…Sara?" I asked tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"It's 12:30, we need to get up. We have things to do today."

I felt Sara snuggle harder into the pillows, "Okay. Five more minutes."

"No, Sara, umm…we need to get up now. I don't think you know where you are, I just figured it out myself."

"What? Where am I, then?" The voice sounded curious, but the body made no move except to stop rubbing my stomach.

"In bed." It was all I could get out, my throat had constricted.

"Yeah…" I had the feeling Sara already knew that much.

Okay, how to say this? "Umm…in San Francisco?"

There was a pause. I could almost hear Sara doing the math. The day yesterday; the flight last night; the sleeping situation.

"Catherine?" The face was still buried in the pillows and besides her limbs suddenly stiffening, there still was no other movement.

"Uhh…yeah." I couldn't decide if I should be apologetic or not.

"What are you- oh." The memories seemed to be flooding back to her.

"Yeah."

"Its 12:30?"

"Probably more like quarter to one," My tone changed as I remembered what was in store for the day, "We have to check out in fifteen minutes, we might want to get dressed, I already showered when we first got in."

"Oh." Sara started to stir. When she sat up, her warm manner from the minute before was gone. She turned to me, "Could you get everything together and check out? That way I can take a shower."

"Absolutely."

Our quiet way of exchange from the day before seemed to have returned. I moved to the other side of the bed, got up and went to my suitcase. I pulled out a fresh pair of jeans, a red spaghetti tank and a white linen shirt. Slipping them on, I turned to see that Sara hadn't moved from her side of the bed and had been watching me dress.

Not really wanting to address the butterflies in my stomach at that idea, I said, "Sara, we need to get going…I'll go check out and order another cab."

Sara nodded, the hollow expression returning to her eyes.

I stuffed my clothes into my rolling suitcase, taking both it and my purse and heading toward the door.

"Actually, Catherine?"

"Yes?"

Sara smiled a bit. "We don't need a cab."

"We don't?"

She shook her head, "Nope, can you ask the front desk to get the number for Timothy and Lawrence Lester? I'll be down in a minute."

I just nodded and walked towards the elevator. I didn't bother asking what Sara was up to; I figured I would find out very soon.

Ten minutes later, Sara emerged from the elevator, hair wet, wearing black jeans, and a dark green tank top. I silently handed her the post-it with the number she had requested. I had spent several tedious minutes with Becky, aka Miss Sunshine May 15th, 2004, trying to locate it. Sara thanked me and took it, reaching for her cell and heading outside, her bag over her shoulder.

I sat on a bench and watched Sara pace up and down the sidewalk as she talked quietly into her phone. After assessing that she would be on her cell for a while, I took the time to call Nancy. I told her that I had gotten in safely and asked about Lindsey. I said I'd call to kiss her goodnight and hung up just as Sara did.

She came to stand against a pillar across from my bench. "I have a ride coming, should be here in twenty minutes or so."

It was not lost on me that she was cautiously looking everywhere but me. Was she uncomfortable about this morning? I knew I was. Maybe last night's events were just catching up with her again.

"Old friends?" I asked, wondering what other people would drop everything to come pick up someone who needed to look their number up in the phonebook.

Sara nodded, "Tim and Larry Lester, I've known them for several years. They've always called themselves my fairy godfathers. We met over one of my first cases. They actually weren't involved except that they were the neighbors of a victim of an erotic asphyxiation accident. I was still new at it, and when they saw how white I was after processing the scene, they invited me in for a cup of coffee. At two in the morning! After that I guess they felt responsible for me, taking me out for fancy dinners and kidnapping me for weekends to Cape Cod or Mexico."

I raised my eyebrows over the tops of my sunglasses at the idea of such decadence.

"They've got quite a bit of money," Sara explained, "they created a chain of smoothie shops around the city about twenty years ago. They sold it about five years ago and made a fortune. Now they just travel around, but they're always here for the spring. They're the ones that helped Warren to open his own coffee shop. It had always been his dream and Tim and Larry helped finance it in the beginning and have kept consulting with him ever since."

She stared out at the road, falling quiet after mentioning Warren. I wanted to hold her hand but I was nervous because of the sleeping incident. Instead I asked, "So who's picking us up?"

"Hmm?" She was staring off into space, "Oh, no. They aren't picking us up, they're dropping off my car."

"Your car?"

"Yeah. When I lived here, I had two cars; I had the garage space for them. But when I moved to Las Vegas it was a lot of extra money to pay for two parking spaces in my building. I had to leave one car here. I left it with Larry and Tim. They're both coming and leaving my car with me."

She lapsed back into silence again and I let her. There were a lot of things on my mind as well. Sara had had a life in San Francisco. A happy one, it would seem. She had friends here, people who loved her and wanted to protect her. It must have been so hard for her to leave, but I could understand why she did it.

I thought about the photo of her lying on the grass in that skimpy little dress, utterly relaxed and laughing. She had changed so much by the time she came to us. Or had she changed once she had arrived? I couldn't really remember.

Deep in thought, I didn't see the car that pulled into the parking lot until it was parked parallel with my bench. I did notice when the round, white bearded man got out of the driver's seat, dressed all in loose white linen, and came around the back of the car. Sara hadn't moved from her post, leaning against the pillar; her back was to me.

The man looked at her for a long moment before stepping onto the sidewalk and opening his arms to her.

Reviews? I like reviews.