A/N:

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I am always amazed by them… (and since I don't anticipating updating it soon, allow me a moment to say thank you to those who read and enjoyed the last instalments in More Short Stories, since I've noticed a lot of the same names here. You guys always make me feel SO good when I get into my email. Thank you.)

..

Nick wasn't originally going to be in this… but I really do take reader requests ;-) He won't play a major role (but Greg wasn't ever going to play a bigger part than the one he's already played either. I thought it would be more fun to have someone other than Grissom find Sara in the lobby.)

Chapter Two: Serendipity

"Risk-taking, trust, and serendipity are key ingredients of joy. Without risk, nothing new ever happens. Without trust, fear creeps in. Without serendipity, there are no surprises."

Rita Goldman Gelman

Sara took another deep breath; Greg had walked with her to her room so she could put her bag down and now she was standing with him outside the room he, Nick and Grissom were sharing.

Just as Greg was about to slide the key through the lock, the door opened.

Gil Grissom stopped mid stride when he saw who was standing behind the young man. He blinked, twice, not entirely certain what he was seeing was real.

It looked like Sara… and yet there were subtle, almost unperceivable differences. It wasn't her hair, although her hair was different. It wasn't that she was perfume, although she didn't usually wear perfume. It wasn't the skirt, even though he could count on only a few fingers the number of times he'd seen her in a skirt.

There was something in her smile… it reminded him of all those years ago, when they'd first met. Fresh, he thought. New. Untainted by all the atrocities she'd seen on the job… like she's found herself…

"Hey, Gil," Sara finally broke the silence.

"Hi. You look good," he managed. He'd never been especially adept with small talk or simple pleasantries. "Are you here for the conference?"

"My boss seemed to think it was good idea for me to come."

He seemed surprised. "You're still in forensics?"

"Not exactly."

Greg cleared his throat, clearly looking as if he felt like a third wheel. "I'm just… going to… grab something and… go… find Nick. See you at dinner?" He asked, mostly in Sara's direction.

"I don't know… I've heard they got this really boring keynote speaker…" she flashed a wry little grin in Gil's direction.

He blinked again, not remembering Sara as having a particularly snarky side… but he liked the smile that came with the snark. "So I heard," he replied in a dry tone. "Unfortunately I have to be there. I'm the boring keynote speaker," a fact of which he knew by that grin she was well aware.

"Well then I guess maybe I'll show up too," she said, as Greg made his exit. Sara turned to Gil, her expression hesitant. "Should I let you get back to whatever you were doing?"

"No… I mean… I wasn't really doing anything. I was just..." he realized she was looking at the notebook under his arm. "I was going to go over my speech one more time. But I wouldn't mind the company," he added, almost as question, seeming a little unsure of whether or not it would be a well received invitation.

Her smile deepened, however. "Sounds good," she said, falling into easy stride next to him as they headed for the elevators. Walking together felt natural… familiar.

"I was just going to go down the restaurant," he told her in an apologetic tone as they got into the elevator. "I'm not sure what they have in the way of vegetarian entrees."

"I'm sure I can get a salad."

He nodded. Pressed the button. Looked over at her again. "You seem… happy," Gil told her, still hesitant, trying to find his footing with her again.

When he had come back to his place to find her gone, no note this time, he knew it was his fault. Their last conversation hadn't gone well and, in retrospect, he was no longer certain if the things he'd told her about relationships atrophying had been him talking about them, their relationship, or if he'd been talking about the case. At the time, he would have sworn he was only talking about the case.

They hadn't spoken since. He had tried. He let a couple of weeks go by, some time for them both to think. But by then, her number was no longer in service and her mother either didn't know or wouldn't tell him where Sara had gone.

The last place he'd ever expected her to turn up was at a forensics conference in London.

"I am happy," she answered his observation as simply as she could.

"Where do you work?"

"Cardiff."

He faced her with a startled look. "In Wales?"

Sara smiled; of course Gil would know where Cardiff was, and he wouldn't make the sort of mistake Greg had.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped back, allowing her to go first. In answer to his question, she simply nodded. She knew that sooner or later, most likely sooner, she was going to have to tackle the elephant in the room…

"How long have you been in Cardiff?"

"Eight months."

He blinked. Eight months ago she'd left Las Vegas for the second time (although her being back had never been presumed to be permanent, as much as he would have wished otherwise.)

The elevator doors opened again, depositing them in the lobby.

"I thought about staying with my Mom for a while," she told him honestly. "But I didn't think that going home would really make me happy." They walked across the lobby towards the restaurant together.

"Sometimes going home isn't the answer," said Gil.

"That's exactly what Jack said."

"Jack?"

"Jack Harkness," she said the name with an audible smile. "My boss."

He just nodded. The hostess sat them at a small table for two; Gil held her chair for her and she thanked him… he held himself carefully in check. His heart had skipped at least one beat when he saw her standing there behind Greg… but just because she was here didn't mean… it didn't mean anything at all.

When the waitress came over she ordered a salad. Not wanting to offend her sensitivities, he asked for the same. Despite having been hungry ten minutes ago, he didn't think he was going to really be able to eat much anyway.

Sara was here. She was sitting with him. She hadn't said one word about their last conversation, a topic he would expect most women to want to tackle immediately… but Sara wasn't like most women… she wasn't like any woman he'd ever met before and he had a dozen questions he wanted to ask but he didn't know how to ask a single one of them.

Instead, he filled up the time they spent waiting for their food by telling her how everyone was doing 'back home.'

Sara smiled at his calling it that… Las Vegas hadn't felt like home for her in far longer than she'd realized until now.

There were people she missed… people she didn't miss. But it hadn't been home except for a few brief moments… She smiled at the man sitting across from her now. "Don't let me keep you from your speech."

"Hmmm? Oh. Right," he picked up his notebook and turned to his notes. Then he put it down again. "Sara. Why are you here? If you're not in forensics…?"

"I still do some forensic work. Besides. You're here," her smile was as tight as the knots in her stomach. "I wanted to see you."

"You haven't called…or sent an email…"

"In eight months, I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what to say."

"You could have told me you were doing all right. You could have said where you were. That you were happy."

She took a sip of her water. "If I told you that my work schedule is crazy, it would be the truth. But that isn't the reason I haven't called."

He nodded, accepting her statement and the courage it took to be that honest.

"I have missed you," Sara admitted. "But… the things that got said the last time I saw you… you were right."

"I was?"

She chuckled at the earnestness of his tone. "Yes, Gil, you were right. If you let something stagnate long enough it withers. It dies. Only… I couldn't come back, not to the lab, not even to Vegas."

He paused a long moment, considering his words more carefully than he had the last time they'd spoken; for her part, Sara waited patiently until he'd gathered and organized his thoughts. "I can understand your not wanting to come back to the lab. But why not Las Vegas?" his tone was very carefully neutral and her very specifically left him and their relationship out of the equation.

Which didn't mean she didn't understand what he was really asking. "I will always love you, Gil. But there is something about that place. Just being there for a little while reminded me of all the reasons I left in the first place. All the things I hate."

"You said in your letter that you felt like you were running away your whole life. Running away from your life."

"I was."

He considered carefully before stating the obvious. "Wasn't coming over here just more running?"

"It was. At first. I packed my bags and just… just got on the first plane headed out of the airport," she confessed, feeling the tears welling up again, unbidden. She'd known then that wherever she ended up, she would never, ever come back. "I'd already tried going home, Gil. It didn't work. I couldn't find myself in the past. I couldn't find myself where I was. So I left. I told myself that wherever I landed, there would be no turning back. No more running away."

She almost hadn't gotten on the plane. The first flight out was to Cardiff International Airport which was a lot further than she'd expected to go… at most, she expected to fly to Chicago or New York. Getting on that plane meant letting go completely, knowing that wherever she landed, she couldn't come back home, she didn't have the money for a return flight. She said as much aloud. "It was either the bravest… or the dumbest… thing I've ever done."

"It seems to have worked out," Gil observed.

"I was completely numb by the time the plane landed," she confided with a shy smile. "I was so scared. I hardly had a thousand dollars in my pocket and no idea how to even start looking for a job or what I'd need to get one. I walked to a café in the airport, just to get a cup of coffee and think about what I'd done… if I should call someone and beg them to wire me some money so I could come home," she could laugh at the memory now, but that the time she couldn't remember too many more instances where she'd been more scared. "I guess it was just… dumb luck that I found a newspaper lying on the table where I sat down. It was open to the 'room mates' wanted section. The second place I called on was with this incredibly sweet lady who was willing to take it 'a day at a time.' She didn't mind that I could only give her one month's rent with no guarantee that I'd be able to stay," she took another sip of her water.

All of Mrs. Chandler's children were grown; Sara had gotten the impression that she was looking for company more than someone to pay the rent. Which was probably why Sara was hadn't moved out (that and having someone to share meals with, at least when she was home was nice.) Plus there was also a certain convenience to the location…