Alright, there is really no point to this chapter plot-wise. And I know everybody really wants to meet the girls. But, that's not going to happen until next chapter. I hope you like this one though…

The man was easily several inches shorter than Sara, he was probably about my height. He was also a great deal vaster than the woman in his arms, but she just let him wrap his arms around her waist and lift her off the ground. She had thrown her arms around his neck and buried her face in his beard the moment he stepped up on the curb.

"Hey there, Sticks. Been awhile, eh?" The man spoke softly, with an affected New England accent.

Sara just nodded and sniffed. I hadn't realized that she had been crying.

The man set her back down on the ground and rubbed her arm soothingly while simultaneously rubbing her back. "Now, now," he said, his voice paternal and loving. "Come on, Bird, pull yourself together, you're embarrassing an old man."

Bird? Sticks? Was I the only one here who knew her name?

The man looked over Sara's shoulder at me; standing beside the bench, watching the exchange. He had blue eyes that were magnified by thick glasses. He winked at me. "Sticks, if you don't quit this latching on I'm afraid for what will happen to your beautiful friend here. She's already sick with worry."

I hadn't even realized I was frowning. But it got Sara to straighten up, wipe her eyes and look at me. She sniffed loudly. I automatically crossed to her and touched her arm, forgetting the events that had taken place upstairs, "Hey, baby, enough of that. I promise I'll let you cry it all out again later."

She smiled weakly at me but she managed to lift an eyebrow, "Promise?" she asked slyly.

I blushed and looked at the concrete, remembering that this had gone the other way last time, "Promise." I whispered.

I felt her hand on my chin and when I looked up I saw several things in her expression. There was still sadness and despair, and I wanted to make those go away but I knew couldn't. There was also concern and hope and gratitude. "Hey." She said and pulled me into a hug. Until now, I had initiated all of our contact and it suddenly felt good to have her arms around me for a change. "Thanks for everything, okay?"

I just nodded into her neck. When I looked into her eyes again I saw something else…I felt my breath hitch; no, no, no. That was not there, it was just tears and, and- my thoughts were interrupted by a coughing sound and the shuffling of sandals on pavement.

"Sara, dear, are you not going to introduce me to this lovely young lady?" For some reason, this man's words made me blush. I received this type of compliment all the time, but the way this man said it, with a twinkle in his eye, made me feel like a little girl again.

Sara took my hand, pulling me to her side and gesturing at the man, "Catherine Willows, meet Lawrence Lester. Larry, this is Catherine Willows. She's a work colleague and…and a friend."

I felt a slight pang that Sara had hesitated at the word 'friend,' after these last few months, didn't she think of me as a friend? Surely she knew that I considered her to be one of my closest friends. Did she think I would have offered to come if I only thought of her as my co-worker? As entertainment for my daughter? We would have to find a time to discuss our relationship, but this was not it.

I held out my hand to the man. Instead of shaking it, he took it in both of his and brushed his lips across it. This caught me off guard a bit, but from this man, it just seemed like the only course of action available.

"Charmed, I'm sure, Lady Catherine." His eyes sparkled.

I had to smile, this man was clearly a character, "Likewise."

"Where's Tim?" Sara asked.

"Oh, you know him, puttering around with his beloved espresso machine. I told him we would just meet him back at the house. That way you can leave off your things and pick up the car. Have you spoken with the Wingers?" He moved to put our luggage in the trunk and I assisted him.

Sara shook her head gravely, "Not since last night. I suppose I should." The tone of her voice was heavy.

"Yes, you should, my dear." Larry patted Sara comfortingly on the shoulder and moved to the driver's seat. I got the feeling that in some ways, Larry was more of a father figure to Sara, than a friend.

When I moved to sit in the back he protested, "No, no, you sit up here with me, my dear Lady Catherine."

I looked at Sara, "Is that okay?"

She nodded, "Go ahead, I'll be fine." And with that, she slipped into the back.

I took the front seat and buckled in.

The drive was a pleasant one. Before long, we were on a road that followed the coast. Periodically, Larry would point something out and ask Sara if she remembered a certain event. Sara would nod, sometimes she would elaborate. After a while, Larry started to ask me questions.

"So, Catherine, you work at the crime lab in Las Vegas?"

"Yes."

"And what do you do there?"

"I'm a CSI, like Sara."

"Ah, do you have a specialty?"

"I guess, technically, I specialize in blood spatter patterning, but mostly we all do a little bit of everything."

"I see. Now, tell me dear, do you work the nightshift as well?"

"Yep. It's actually better than working days because I get to be around when my daughter comes home from school."

"Yes, I think Sara mentioned you had a daughter. Sara has grown quite fond of her…"

And so on. I told him about Lindsey and about night school, leaving out details about Eddie and my past life as dancer. Sara sat quietly in the back, staring out the window. I watched her grow more despondent in the mirror as we drove, and at one point, I reached back with one arm to lightly brush her knee. She caught my hand and held it in her own for a moment, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Larry or my rapidly beating heart.

Larry's house was enormous. A sprawling white modern building built into a cliff that overlooked the ocean. There was a pool, a Jacuzzi, two very large decks, and a four-car garage. I was told that the flat roof was also a stargazing point complete with telescope. The inside was all hard woods and tile with many large windows that left it open to the beautiful weather we were having. The enormous kitchen had an island and a bar as well as the biggest, most expensive espresso machine I have ever seen. And by the smell of things, it had been hard at work.

"Timothy, dear, I have brought you a gift!" Larry shouted into the open rooms by the kitchen as Sara and I lay our things on the floor and took seats at the bar stools.

"Is it gift wrapped?!" Came the singsong reply, but its source remained invisible.

"Come and see for yourself."

"Coming!"

Bare-footed steps could be heard coming down the hall and a moment later, a short Asian man in his late-forties, early fifties, floated into the room. His orange linen pants billowed out on either side of him, and he wore an orange and navy robe patterned with lotus blossoms and coy fish that ended mid-thigh.

"Sara! Look at you!" He held out his arms and theatrically embraced her, "Look at this G.I Jane outfit!" He pulled away and gestured at her clothes, "And these muscles!" He exclaimed, grabbing her arms, "I can't believe you've gone so butch! You just need to shave your head and…" That's when he spotted me and grinned, "Is this the little femme you've picked up to complete the new look? She's a little mamasita, isn't she?"

"What?" Sara jumped about six feet off the ground.

I turned about ten different shades of red and promptly looked at the floor.

"Timothy!" Larry admonished, "Can you not behave yourself for two seconds? Honestly, you embarrass me to no end. I don't know why I let you talk to other people." Larry looked at me, "Do forgive my partner, my dear, he sometimes forgets he can't just say whatever her wants. Timothy, I can't believe you…"

As Larry continued to berate his lover, I snuck a glance at Sara. She was bright red, too. "Sorry." She mouthed to me.

I shook my head, "It's okay." I mouthed back. When I turned to the two men, Timothy was looking like a guilty child.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to say anything rude." He held out a hand, "I'm Tim. And I didn't mean anything by the 'femme' comment, I just like to tease Sara."

I gladly shook his hand, not really upset, just surprised, and more than a little curious. How much had he been teasing Sara? Had he been teasing her about the whole lesbian scenario? Or just about going butch? Did Sara like women? Suddenly, that information seemed vitally important. She had certainly seemed comfortable in bed this morning before she realized who she had her arms around. I shivered, remembering the leg that had been thrust between my own. And then I shook myself. No, no, no. This was not the time or place to be thinking these things. Definitely not.

It turned out that Tim had made us lunch and, of course, espresso, so we ate out on their terrace that overlooked the ocean. It was beautiful. Despite the melancholy tone of the meal, I couldn't help but think that I would love to live by the water someday. It was simply breathtaking. Larry said that he had lived on some ocean or other for his entire life and that it pained him to be away from the sea for even a few days. I could understand why. I was familiar with the large lakes of Nevada, Colorado, and Montana, but I had only seen the ocean a handful of times. It was just beautiful.

After lunch, Sara finally called Tony Winger to let him know she had arrived and that she would be staying with Tim and Larry. She said that he sounded exhausted. I suggested that we offer to go over there and make dinner for them since the last couple of days of taking care of the girls must have been hard on two older people.

Reluctantly, Sara agreed. I could tell that she was dreading seeing them and having to accept that her two best friends were actually dead. I also knew that she was nervous about seeing the two little girls. I vowed to get her through this in one piece.

Tim showed us to the guest room. It was large and had two full sized beds and a patio that hung over a cliff. With the windows and doors open, you could hear the waves crashing below. The sheer drapes blew lazily in the afternoon breeze. Sara was still very exhausted, so I left her in the room to get a little more sleep and rejoined Larry outside. I asked him to tell me more about Matt and Warren and what they had been like. I wanted to understand more about Sara's old life.

"Well, now, let me see…" the older man adjusted his glasses and took a sip of his mojito, "I first met Warren and Matt about eight years ago- right about the time they found out they decided to have Ayla. Warren was about thirty and Matt around twenty-five or so. Warren was a very driven young man with hopes of being his own boss and getting into the coffee business. Matt was a lot like Sara; young, stubborn, self-deprecating, but at the same time confident, and passionate. He was never as bright as Sara nor as driven as Warren, but he made up for it in soul and strength of character. You would never meet a kinder man- or a more loving partner."

Larry crunched on his ice, "He was also Sara's best friend."

"I thought they both were."

"Don't misunderstand me, Sara loved them both, and equally. But Matt was the one she was a kindred spirit with."

"And Warren?"

"Warren was more of an older brother, an advisor. She told him her secrets and he helped her through heartache and times of trouble. Matt got her to open up and have fun now and then. They got into lots of trouble- even after Ayla was born and Matt became a responsible father. When they were together, it was like two teenagers instead of two adults."

"Sara doesn't have anyone like that in Las Vegas. She's always the strong stoic one. She hardly ever loses face, she keeps her walls up pretty tight."

"But you are her friend." Larry commented, I could tell he was studying me.

"Sort of." I tried to think of how to word it, "Sara and I are…nearly friends. I would love for us to be closer and I always knew we had the potential to be great friends, but…something holds her back. It used to be me, but now that we don't fight so much, I don't know what it could be."

"I wouldn't worry about it so much. Sticks has always had difficulty establishing firm friendships with women. You're here and that says a lot."

"She invited me, sort of. She was going to invite me but before she got the chance, I invited myself."

Larry laughed, "That's the way to handle Sara- don't take no for an answer. I knew I liked you, Lady Catherine. Don't worry if it takes a while for her to open up. It's patience. If, like you said, she wanted you here- if she invited you over anyone else…that means something. Just don't let her get away."

I smiled, "I don't intend to. I'm so happy to finally be the one she runs to…I'm going to do my best to keep it that way."

"Good." Larry looked at his watch, "It's nearly five. You should go wake up Sara. I'll have Tim pull her car out of the garage. We've kept it in good condition, even if it costs a fortune to maintain. I hope she'll be pleased."

"What kind of car is it?" I asked, curious.

Larry smiled, "Come and take a look."

He escorted me out to the four-car garage and pointed to the last car. Wow. I walked forward in awe and ran my hand reverently along the shiny red hood, "1957 T-Bird convertible? Are you kidding me? This was my father's dream car- hell; this is everyone's dream car. Do you know how much these things run?"

Larry laughed, "Of course, my dear. Timothy and I bought it for Sara when she finally became a CSI. Of course, she had to keep a second car- no place to put all of your CSI gadgets in this one, but it was worth it."

"No wonder she loves you." I joked, "Do you want to adopt me?"

Larry smiled, "Absolutely, my lady. But there's a five year waiting period for red convertibles."

"I'll just have to cozy up with the owner of this one then, think she'll give me a ride?"

"You'll have to ask nicely." Larry looked at his watch, "And you better ask now."

I smiled at him as I headed off to wake sleeping beauty.

The car did handle like a dream. It took all of the curves and twists of the California coastline like it was rolling down butter. It would have been a lovely drive if Sara hadn't been so tense. I tried to talk to her several times, but she had clammed up. So instead of talking, I just rubbed her arm and watched the sea.

By the time we arrived outside the Wingers' condo, Sara was in a downright panic. She was pale, her knuckles were white with the pressure she was putting on the wheel, and I could hear her jaw clenching. Oh, boy.

I eased a hand up her arm and let it rest on her shoulder. "You wanna talk about it? Maybe smooth out those feathers?"

Sara shook her head and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, "You don't even want to know what I'm thinking. Every thought in my head right now is completely selfish and the fact that I know it is only making me feel worse."

I rubbed her back, "Tell me."

She turned her neck to look at me, "Tony and Marie just lost their son and son-in-law- who might as well have been their child. Ayla and Maggie just lost their fathers. All I lost were two friends that I had been drifting away from for awhile. And all I can think about is how I'm never going to see them again." Hot tears were streaming down her face as she sat back, still looking at me, "I know I have to be the solid one, here. But, how am I supposed to go in there and be supportive when I can't even begin to comprehend that this has really happened? How can I console Tony and Marie? How can I tell those girls that everything is going to be all right? Everything isn't all right!"

I put my arms around her, rubbing her back, "No, no…Of course not. Everything isn't all right. It shouldn't be. But who's expecting you to be so strong? Sara, I don't think Matt's parents are expecting you to be their rock. I think they just want someone around who can understand their loss- who loved their son and his partner."

She pulled back and looked at me hopefully.

"As for the girls; they just need someone to hold them. They're going to be confused and scared. They won't really be processing that their fathers are dead; they just need love. You can give that to them, Sara. Just be there for them like you were there for my daughter."

At this, Sara, sniffed and nodded, "Thanks, Cat. I guess I really needed to hear that."

I smiled at her and patted her leg, "I'll always be here to remind you of it. Now let's go."

Close your eyes. You are getting very sleepy. When I count to three you will immediately want to write a review! 1…2…3…!