Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, etc.

A/N: :) Hope you like. Please review!!

Also, for Part Two the chapters will be one-sided, because I didn't want to write all the scenes they were in together twice... maybe once we get into the actual events from on the show, I'll go back to that... undecided yet. Let me know what you think!


Part Two: After

Chapter 1: Sara Sidle.

I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, long after she had disappeared from sight. I didn't know what to say—how to respond. After a good ten minutes, I turned and walked back to my car, in a daze. I had never in my life been so impressed and enthralled with a woman.

A girl… that pesky voice in the back of my head reminded me. She's fifteen years younger than you… and far too beautiful… but she had accepted the date. She had held my hand. She had been interested too…

I sat in the driver's seat, contemplating what had just happened. Had I really been so wrong, so off-base, to tell her I couldn't take her on a date? I hadn't even thought about the complications that could come up in a court room, as she had mentioned… I was thinking about her.

That was the basis behind statutory rape… and the reason why teachers couldn't date adult students… If the power structure was off, sex could not truly be consensual. Nothing could be consensual. I hadn't wanted to take advantage of her… she was the most amazing woman I thought I had ever met…

She was brilliant—insightful, daring, quick-witted. She had a fire in her that heated me to my core, even as she'd yelled at me… Her laugh—the soft space between her teeth when she smiled—it gave me butterflies like I was still in high school. I felt younger in her presence.

Even if the time we'd spent together had been short, it was almost like gravity had been pulling me closer and closer to her—I had wanted to be as close as possible, know as much as possible, and be known as much as possible.

That was a rare desire, as far as I was concerned. Yet I had managed to send her running away from me within minutes, with angry tears in eyes so deeply chocolate brown that I felt like I could spend years drinking them in, tasting their every expression, deep in my being.

It was very dejectedly that I trudged my way back to the lecture hall, dreading having to explain through the impossible concept of insect timeline regression—even if you understood the basics, if you weren't an entomologist, it would be several days work to construct anything more than the most basic of timelines.

And after the engaging lecture I'd just given—after the engaging woman I'd just lost before I had known if I could have her—I was of half a mind to cancel it. That was the second time, today, that I had wanted to just cancel and leave… go home.

It was also the second time that her appearance in the lecture hall changed my mind.

She was not distracted as she moved down the steps this time… she looked at me warily, and gave me a shy smile, which I returned, apologetically. I tried to communicate what an idiot I'd been—for tacitly agreeing… for not explaining myself better—with only my eyes, and her broader smile reassured me a little.

Suddenly, I was excited about my subject again—she had said she was interested in the timeline—I would make it interesting for her. I would make sure she understood—and I had no doubt that that brilliantly sexy brain of hers would be able to take this short lecture, minimal explanation, and construct her own timeline in half the time it would take anyone else.

I had to remind myself, occasionally, that she wasn't the only person in the room… that I needed to look away from her, make eye contact with others, and scan the room for questions. She didn't ask questions, this time, but I could tell by the frequency with which she flipped her notebook pages, and the frantic way in which she wrote, that she had plenty. I hoped she would let me answer them.

By the end of the lecture, when everyone was filing out, she was beaming at me… and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. For some reason, it seemed like letting her walk away from me now would be the tragedy of a lifetime. …And I had known tragedy in my lifetime.

She remained seated until nearly everyone had left, and I used the time to gather my things again. She stood, tucking her notebook back into her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. She glanced at me, nervously, like she wasn't sure if she should come up to me—both because of my reaction, I thought, but also for another reason. She had come to me, the last time.

I move around the podium and desk I've stood behind and move up to her, trying my best to not appear to be too anxious. I stop, six inches from her, and our eyes meet—scared and hopeful. I smile. "I'm glad you came…"

She looks down, one side of her mouth curling up indulgently. "I'm glad I came too. You're, uh… you're a really good speaker. You're really… passionate."

She bites her bottom lip, an action which raises goose bumps down both my arms. "Can I… take you to lunch? Apologize for being an idiot?"

She smiles. "I s'pose you're done for the day…"

I realize that she probably isn't. "I'm sorry, Sara. I'm sure you wanted to go to another lecture… I, uh, I'll just ask you some other ti—"

"Gil." I stop speaking at her interruption, forcing myself to meet those gorgeous brown eyes again. I almost lose myself in them. "I have two hours… maybe, uh… maybe, after lunch, you could come to the next lecture with me?"

I feel a smile crossing my face. "You're going to get sick of me if you're not careful…"

She giggled, motioning that we should begin walking out. "Yeah, but if I want to get rid of you I can just find you some bugs to play with…"

I nudge her, playfully, glad at how easy it is with her… how simply we've fallen into a comfortable camaraderie, even after our disagreement. "It wouldn't be that easy… I'd want you to play with them too."

She laughed—really laughed—and I felt like all of life's problems disappeared within the velvet embrace of that sound. "That's okay, Gil, really…"

We walked to my car, yet again, and I walked her to the passenger side, opening the door for her and closing it behind her, before replacing my pile of papers in their place in the backseat. She smiled when I sat next to her, and immediately suggested a deli she had seen, a few blocks over, on her way onto campus this morning. I drive there, with a little directing, and we park again.

She starts to get out, and I stop her, catching her hand in mine gently.

"Sara… I just wanted to apologize for… for not reacting well, when I found out that you're still in school. It, uh… it was a combination of things, my own insecurities included, but it… it wasn't about reputation in court or anything like that. …Not that that wouldn't be a good reason, I guess, but… Sara, it didn't even occur to me until you said it.

"I… I've done a lot of guest lectures, in classes at UNLV. I couldn't help feeling like… like I was being the creepy teacher and that… that anything that happened between us, even the act of purchasing coffee and talking… that it would be taking advantage of you. I felt like… like I would be using that vulnerability, which I hadn't even realized existed, for my own personal… satisfaction. …I felt sick with myself, just at the thought."

She smiles softly, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "You're a good man, Gil. But… you're not my teacher. I received an invitation to the conference, albeit in a round-about way… that alone should make me your colleague. If, in your mind… it doesn't, then we wait the week and two days until I get my diploma, and… make up for lost time."

Her last statement rushed through me like fire and settled deep in my lower abdomen, and I coughed roughly, just to distract myself from the sensation—the implication—behind those words.

"Uh… shall we?" I gestured to the restaurant, and she rewarded me with a smile.

"Yes! I'm starving."

I laugh at her exuberance, and try to beat her around the car to open her door, but she's already out, grinning slyly at me. She also opens the door to the deli for me too, the grin still in place. I chuckle. "'I am woman; hear me roar'?"

She giggled again. "No, just… I am woman; I possess basic cognitive and gross motor skills…"

I slide my hand into hers again. She squeezes it immediately, and I feel a deep calm fill my chest—it's the absence of an agitation I wasn't aware I'd been holding there, until I noticed it leave.

We order quickly, and I pay, despite her protests—they were abundant, believe me—and while we wait for our soup and sandwiches to be placed on the tray, I snatch the two cups laid out for us. "What can I get you to drink?"

She narrows her eyes playfully. "I am woman; I can fill my own drink."

I roll my eyes and reply teasingly, "I am man; I can fill a lady's cup without it being a sign of my dominance." She laughs and I revel briefly in the sound—deep and throaty, but still feather-light. "Now, from the size of your coffee this morning, should I assume something well-caffeinated?"

She smiles sheepishly. "Coke, please. Thank you."

By the time I return, our food is being placed on the tray, and I pick it up, despite her still fervent complaints, and we find ourselves a table.

"So, I believe that you were telling me, this morning, before I stuck my foot in my mouth, that you started at Harvard when you were sixteen."

She smiled, coyly. "I was telling you that, yes."

"…Are you… going to enlighten me?"

She seemed to think for a moment, slowly chewing the bite in her mouth and then taking a sip of her coke, for good measure. "I started school a year early—I was five in first grade. In high school I took a lot of summer school. By my senior year I was two years younger than the other seniors, but I mostly hung out with juniors anyway, so it wasn't so bad."

"Why did you want to graduate so early?"

"So I could go to college."

I tilted my head. Clearly… but that hadn't been what I'd meant. I swallow the bite in my mouth, appraising her. "Why did you want to want to go to college so early?"

She bites on her bottom lip, and I know, without knowing how I know this, that she's deciding something. She could answer me with more avoidance, she could answer the question I'm really asking, or she can do what she does: neither.

"Gil, I don't… I don't know what it is about you. I, uh… I've never in my life been so taken with a man upon just seeing him. …Especially since you had your shirt on." I laugh softly at her teasing grin, and she continues. "So I'm going to be really honest with you and… hope it doesn't scare you away."

My eyes narrow, but I nod, letting her speak, because she seems like she just wants to get it over with.

"I, uh… I don't really talk about… my past. I've ended relationships—long, healthy, relationships that I was very happy in—because of my past, whether it be because talking about it make all my insecurities and vulnerabilities rise to the surface, or because avoiding talking about it put a strain on the relationship. And I… I really want this to work, between us. Like I told you, I've never felt so strongly after just… making eye contact.

"I overreacted today, about your overreaction, because I was afraid of this ending before it had even started. And I wouldn't have come to your later lecture, if there had been less of a connection between us… So, uh… I guess I'm just forewarning you, because I want to give us a chance… I don't really talk about it, I don't like probing questions, and I run like a bat out of hell when I start to feel vulnerable."

I swallow hard, my eyebrows raised. Okay then.

"So… I'm not allowed to ask you any questions… about yourself."

She shakes her head slowly. "No, you can… ask. But… but if I avoid it, or just don't answer… you have to know that pushing the issue will push me away. It, uh… it may not even be a problem. I was just… covering my bases."

I think for a moment, and then slide my hand across to table, to wrap around hers and squeeze it. "Okay but… please, at least, let me know if I'm doing it? I'll try not to, but don't… don't run away without warning me that I'm making you want to…"

She seemed surprised at my response. Her eyebrows shot up, her eyes got wide, and a smile broke across her face. She looked hopeful. "Really? …Just like that?"

I nod, slowly. "I… I felt the connection, too, Sara. So, if… if that's what you need, then… Okay. As long as you meet me halfway… give me fair warning and… and don't expect me to tell you everything either… at least, uh… at least not right away."

She nods, slowly, curiosity burning in her eyes, but she doesn't even attempt to ask. I didn't expect her to. I chuckle softly, to myself. "So what can you tell me about the oh-so-secretive woman who is Sara Sidle?"

She grins. "I… love chocolate… science… books… sex on the beach—the drink and the activity—" her eyes flash mischievously, and I choke on the gulp of coke I'd just taken. She continues, "…good wine, great Italian food …older men." She giggled at the surprised look on my face. "And I think I might be coming around to the idea of bugs…"