Chapter Five: London

To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.
~Henri Bergson~

"Who're you calling?" Nick asked when Sara pulled out her phone.

"Just sending a text message to my boss," she explained, her thumbs flying over they keys. She couldn't resist the urge to tell Jack she was standing in front of Big Ben, although there was no space ship to be found, invisible or otherwise.

A moment later he returned the message to ask if she was alone.

She answered with a simple no, while Greg and Nick chatted with each other.

A few moments more and she received another message....

Nick and Greg looked up as Glen Miller's Moonlight Serenade came out of Sara's phone.

Nick raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I think my boss thought I was here with someone else," she explained aloud, as she typed in the same thing to Jack.

Now, of course, Jack wanted to know who she was with and were they cute…

She was spared from having to answer right way by Greg. "Even if you're not here with Grissom," he ventured, holding out his hand to her. "It seems a shame to waste the song."

Sara blinked.

"May I have this dance?" he clarified the proposition.

She chuckled, accepting.

Nick was sure he'd never heard Sara laugh quite like that before. It had almost sounded like a giggle. He was equally certain he never, ever, would have seen the day she'd dance with Greg (or anyone else) in the street. It wasn't that she was overly self conscious or anything, it was just that she was so… restrained… most of the time.

Greg, not particularly surprisingly, was hamming it up by giving her a twirl and a dip that sent the tree of them (and several passes by) laughing as the song ended.

Nick shook his head, "Something has definitely been good for you over here," he told his former colleague.

"Life's been good to me," she said simply. Jack was buzzing her again. She answered back with a quick text that she was with a couple of former co-workers, and yes they were cute, but no, they weren't interested in a foursome… or any other number the Captain could come up with. She put her phone away.

"What was that about?" Greg asked of the last, rather lengthy, message she'd sent.

"I decided to stop him before he asked me to invite you two back to Cardiff with me."

"Oh?" said Nick.

Sara missed the bemused look he and Greg exchanged. She blushed anyway. "Jack's… hmm…. He's Jack. He flirts with everything that moves. Don't take it personally."

"Is he cute, at least?" Greg's question surprised her, but she didn't comment. "What?" the young man said to the look Nick was shooting. "If some strange guy is flirting with me over a text message I at least want to know what he looks like," his tone made the incredulousness apparent. The situation was too silly to be taken seriously.

Nick just shook his head.

Sara pulled her phone back out and brought up a picture of Jack, Ianto and Jason, explaining briefly who they were.

"Why do I get the feeling this Torchwood of yours isn't anything like the crime lab," Nick observed.

She laughed, "It definitely isn't anything like the crime lab."

However, getting into the particulars about what made Torchwood different wasn't a conversation she wanted to have, but not because of all the things she couldn't say about her work. There was just no way to easily explain the rest of the team to people who didn't know them because it wasn't the place so much as the people that made the difference.

Jack wasn't obsessed with the science, he cared about the people. Ianto, for all he was a stickler about the little things, didn't push the rule book down anyone's throat. Abby was brilliant, but she didn't need to constantly prove it, at least not to anyone but herself. There was no haggling over promotions because after Jack and Ianto, they were all equal – and Ianto would argue that he was just as equal as the rest of them despite the fact that he carried the title Office Manager. When they took a day off together, Jack usually left Gwen in charge because she had the most experience; no one resented that and she didn't hold it over anyone's head. At the end of the day they all cared about the same thing: getting the job done with the least amount of harm to life, human or otherwise, as possible.

"So where to next?" asked Greg, sliding his arm through the crook of Sara's elbow.

"I don't know. You guys feel like checking out the Globe?" she suggested.

……………………………………………………………..

Gil fixed Sara with a smile as he opened his hotel room door for the second time in one day to find her standing on the other side. This time at least she'd gotten as far as knocking. Although he hadn't been expecting her.

"Nick and Greg asked me to walk down to dinner with them," she explained to the startled look in his eyes. They were the only thing that betrayed his surprise at finding her on his doorstep yet again. She was beginning to smell a set up.

"Oh. They both stepped out."

She just smiled, wondering which one of them deserved the Cupid's wings. She realized she should have expected something like this. It wasn't like it was any kind of secret that she wasn't really here for the conference.

"You look nice," Gil's voice cut through her thoughts.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied easily. He always had looked good in a suit.

Gil stepped back and invited her to come in. "I'm sure they won't be long. I don't even know where they went," he frowned slightly.

Sara held in her chuckle.

A quick glance at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser confirmed that she looked more than good. It was a formal dinner. She'd taken the time to do her hair up a bit more than usual and she was wearing a pair of earrings she'd bought while she was out with the guys sight seeing that afternoon.

"Gilbert," she said slowly, inadvertently cutting him off as he started to say something.

He stilled his tongue and gave a slight nod, indicating she should speak first.

She smiled. "I… we… are only going to be in London together for the next couple of days. I'd like to spend some time with you," she told him bluntly.

He blinked. Sometimes she wondered if he was truly as dense as he came across at times or if it was just an act, like Colombo… but no, duplicity wasn't in his nature.

"I don't just mean dinner tonight," Sara explained. "I have missed you. Very much. And I know we've only got a couple of days. I don't want to waste it trying to figure out how to say all the things I feel. Life is too short." She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. He didn't hesitate in responding.

"Nick and Greg aren't coming back before dinner, are they?" he asked, several long, lovely moments later.

"I doubt it."

He chuckled softly, understanding. "The things I said… the last time I saw you…"

She waved it off. "You were right."

"That doesn't mean it was the right thing to have said."

"Maybe not. But if you hadn't, I wouldn't be here."

"Nick said you were happy."

"I I'm happier in Cardiff than I've ever been anywhere else," she told him honestly. He deserved to know that she was never coming back.

He nodded his understanding. Then he surprised her by taking her hands into his. "I'm sorry about earlier, Sara. I made a snap judgement about where you work. What you do. I don't… I don't honestly know what you do or who you're working for. But I trust your judgement. I trust you."

"You have no idea how much that means to me."

His smile mirrored hers. "After dinner… would… you like to take a walk?" he couldn't think of where else to invite her. Dinner would probably run late.

"That sounds… fantastic," she grinned. Fantastic was probably Abby's favourite word after hinkey. She heard it at least six or seven times a day every time they worked together.

"Fantasic, huh?" he couldn't help the smile that cracked across his usually stoic façade.

"Absolutely fantastic."

Gil chuckled softly and offered her his arm.