As Gil was still on summer break, he accompanied Sara to work that week. Animal Ark's annual gala was to be held in two weeks, and there were plenty of volunteer tasks for him to work on. While Sara carried out her normal duties, he gave wooden walls and fences a fresh coat of preservative stain, trimmed back the hedges and flower beds and helped with indoor and outdoor building maintenance.
On Tuesday afternoon Sara and Candy were sitting in the office, working on the accounts when the fish boy, who had so kindly and freely bestowed Shakespeare into Sara's care, his mother and the three soccer playing siblings trooped in through the door.
"Connor?" asked Candy, surprised. He glared at her, his shoulders hunched and his feet dragging on the floor as he shuffled after his mother. He appeared to have gained a few more piercings since Sara had seen him last. The three siblings, once again clad in uniform, albeit this time for the Hannover Hawks softball team, trailed dutifully behind him. Their bright blonde hair and yellow sports clothing once again reminded Sara strongly of a string on recently hatched ducklings.
The mother looked imperiously at Candy,
"Candida-Camille," she said haughtily, "what are you doing here?" Candy sighed heavily at the use of her full name and pushed her hair behind her ears.
"I work here Aunt Gertrude," she said, with long suffering patience.
"I see," replied the woman, her expression sour.
"How may we help you?" Sara asked politely. The woman regarded her as though Sara were a fly trespassing on a dinner plate.
"I'm here to make a deposit," Gertrude replied stiffly, hefting a box onto the counter and setting it down with a thud. Sara winced for whatever was inside.
"What kind of deposit?" asked Sara, a little hesitant. The boy, Connor, sulked in the corner; his sickly green hair a storm of chaotic spikes and his clothes scuffed, torn and mottled with patches of ground in dirt.
The three sexless blonde athletes were craning to see around their mother, eyes bright and curious as she attempted to gently swat them back, as though they were in danger. Candy eyed the box with apprehension.
"A living one," said Gertrude, her voice clipped. She spoke as though each word cost her dearly, and made her a poorer woman for parting with them. "I have no room for such a creature in my house."
"Mom, you promised I could have a pet and you never specified what kind," Conner suddenly snapped. "You made me give up Anthrax, and now you want to give Ebola away too." Gertrude spun to face him, her expression thunderous. As if they knew what was coming, the three younger sibs scrambled away from the counter they had been trying to scale to cower behind her, out of the line of fire.
"I promised you could have a pet if your grades improved," growled Gertrude, her eyes flashing. "I said we would discuss the matter when and if the time came, including the type of pet."
"I had a solid A- average last semester," Conner protested hotly, his face red with rage. "Now I have an A+ in science and in social studies; you didn't even read the report I showed you on the Black Death did you?" When Gertrude failed to answer Conner shook his head.
"What about the note that Mr. Silas wrote? About how good my lab report was and how impressed he was with my work?"
"You blew up your work station," accused his mother. Three round faces lit up with delight at this outburst. "You go looking for attention and ways to cause damage."
"It was an accident," roared Conner, tears in his eyes. "The chemicals were bad. Even the principal told you that when you came to get me. You don't even care," he growled. "I'm practically invisible to you, just because Dad isn't my real father like he is theirs," he pointed an accusing finger at the three faces peering around Gertrude's considerable girth. They stared at him, confused. Conner lunged for his box; his mother tried to hold him back and the box toppled over the counter, breaking open on the desk in front of Sara. Candy screamed in terror.
"Out," thundered Gertrude, herding her brood out of the door; she fixed Conner with a beady eye as they moved, "You and I will talk later boy," she promised.
Sara backed up against the far wall, fighting to keep calm. Candy was hysterical as she scrambled up onto the filing cabinet, shaking uncontrollably. The three foot long Ebola unwound herself and slowly slithered onto the floor, her head twitching first one way and then the other. Her tiny eyes fixed on Sara for a moment, before she slipped under the counter.
Sara willed herself to move; she had encountered snakes before, and while she didn't like them, she wasn't necessarily afraid. Until now. Her muscles refused to budge as the python moved under the table containing the fax machine and printer. Sara tried to speak, but only managed a croak. On top of the filing cabinet Candy was sobbing in terror. Sara swallowed and tried to clear her throat. It took several tries before she was able to bellow,
"Tom," at the top of her lungs. The vet appeared after a few moments, his eyes narrowed. Sara pointed.
"Snake," she gasped.
"Really?" the people shy man brightened and crouched down to look. "Wow," he murmured, fascinated. "What a beauty."
"You can have it," said Sara dryly, as she worked to steady her breathing. "Really, I don't mind. It's all yours, as long as you get it out of here."
"Just let me go get something to put it in," he replied, getting to his feet, clearly enthralled. Feeling sick, Sara stayed pressed against the wall, her eyes riveted on the spot where the snake was hiding as Tom left the room. He left the door open in his wake, something both Sara and Ebola noticed at the same time. Still moving sluggishly from shock and fear, Sara didn't make it to the doorway before the python. Out she went, slithering happily down the hallway.
"Tom," shrieked Sara, now slightly hysterical herself as she followed the escapee. As much as she wanted to run as far away as she could, the knowledge that she might lose the snake and end up working with it likely to appear anywhere at any time kept her trailing it. The vet came running, a large plastic box in his hands. "It's on the run," she informed him, pointing to the surgery doors, where Ebola was sliding happily inside.
"Wow, she's quick," he remarked, impressed. Sara glared at him behind his back. They followed the snake into the vet surgery, shutting the door as they looked around.
"Over there," said Sara, waving anxiously at the operating table. Tom approached carefully and slowly, but Ebola slithered off under the row of cabinets containing medical supplies. She was convinced he was going to catch it, when a head emerged by the counter end where she was standing, less than six inches from her feet. Sara yelled in shock, and jumped back somewhat clumsily. The snake vanished.
"Was that really necessary?" accused Tom reprovingly. "You scared her!" Sara glared at the back of his head as he got down on his hands and knees to inspect the cabinet base.
The door opened and Gil looked in curiously.
"Why is Candy sitting on top of the filing cabinet?" he enquired. "She seems almost catatonic. Who screamed?" His gaze flickered over her, taking in the slightly disheveled clothing and wary eyes, and then moved to Tom, who was sliding along the floor on his belly.
"I did," said Sara, backing even further away from the counter. She jerked a thumb at Tom. "He's trying to catch an escaped snake."
"Really?" asked Gil, intrigued. He stepped into the room and closed the door, looking around expectantly. Sara scowled at him and he raised an eyebrow in question.
"Shakespeare's former owner came in with his mother," she told him. "Seemingly he acquired another pet that she didn't approve of. Ebola escaped during a heated discussion between the two parties."
"Ebola?" he asked, his other eyebrow rising to meet its partner.
"Anthrax," Sara reminded him with a shrug. He nodded, and looked at the floor, where the snake was escaping again. This time they lost her in the store room where medicines and the more valuable supplies were kept. Feeling sick, Sara backed out of the room and left them to it.
…
In the office, Candy was sitting in her chair again sipping water and leaning sideways against the wall as she practiced deep, even breaths.
"You ok?" asked Sara as she sank gratefully into her own chair. Candy's eyes flashed for a moment, and then she nodded.
"I hate snakes," she said passionately. "I just loath them. They make my skin crawl."
"Why?" asked Sara. "I'm not a fan, but they unnerve me more than anything."
"I was bitten by a rattle snake when I was seven. One of my cousins thought he was playing with a grass snake when he decided to chase me with it." Candy shivered at the memory.
"Well, don't worry; both Tom and my other half are now trying to catch the thing." Sizing up her friend's lingering anxiety Sara changed tracks. "Is that woman really your aunt?" The girl rolled her eyes and nodded.
"She's my dad's third sister. Conner's father was her college boyfriend; he overdosed on Speed while trying to stay awake to study for his second year medical exams before Conner was even born. Conner looks exactly like him, which is why I think Aunt Gertrude is so hard on him. My dad says that Martin was her one true love, and that she married Dean on the rebound."
"That's really sad," said Sara.
"Yeah, Dean really loves Conner though; he adopted him as a baby and they spend a lot of time together. Dean's a geologist and he takes Conner out in the field sometimes. And Conner is really close with the terrible trio as well, despite the age difference."
"Terrible trio?" laughed Sara.
"Elijah, Ella and Edward," smirked Candy. "And let me tell you, Ella may be the only girl, but she is most definitely the dominant sibling."
She paused for a moment, thinking as they tidied up the disheveled desk. "Conner is a smart kid, he really likes science, but he gets a bad reputation because of his appearance and because he's interested in disease. He told me he wants to study pathology. He's just starting high school and Mr. Silas, the teacher he was talking about? He was my eighth grade science teacher too and he's recommended Conner for the advanced science track."
"That's good," nodded Sara, glancing at the open door as a bang echoed down the hallway. She rolled her chair backwards, peering through the doorway. Seeing nothing and hearing silence she shrugged at Candy and rolled back to desk, one hand absently rubbing her sore lower back as she opened the invoice draw of the filing cabinet.
"I hope he does well," mused Candy. "He's actually very nice, when you get past the piercings and the overused hair gel. Maybe my dad could talk Aunt Gertrude into letting him adopt one of our rescue dogs at the fundraiser."
Sara was about to reply when Grissom walked into the room. She took in his appearance with an amused smirk. Sweating slightly, Gil drank heavily from a glass of water, his hair sticking up in tufts and his clothing in severe disarray.
"Tell me you caught the wretched thing!" demanded Candy, her eyes still slightly wild with fear. Gil drained his glass and nodded, his breathing still slightly elevated.
"She got out of the supply closet through a busted vent; we were chasing her around the yard by the kennels. I tripped over a tree root and Tom slipped in a massive pile of donkey dung. We chased her around the building, lost her in the small animal hall, and then finally caught her by the staff room, but not before knocking over the entire stack of crates that were delivered yesterday." He heaved a deep breath and tried to pull his clothes back into place. Running his fingers through disheveled hair, he glanced at the clock.
"We need to go honey," he said, nodding at the time. Sara nodded and gathered her things.
"See you tomorrow," she told Candy. The girl nodded and pulled out a pad of paper to work on some poster and sign designs for the open day.
…
Doctor Lenoir's office was peacefully quiet after the chaos of the snake hunt. Sara leaned snuggly against Gil, her eyes closed in relaxation as they waited.
"Tom's going to keep the snake," said Gil softly, one hand gently running up and down her back as he spoke. "Apparently he has as collection of reptiles." Sara hummed softly in response, tucking her head into his shoulder. "I wonder if that's why he has such trouble with the ladies," mused Gil, kissing the top of her head.
They were spared from further ponderings of that topic by the arrival of Amira Lenoir.
"Hello Sara, Gil. How are you today?"
The doctor was brief and efficient with her exam; waiting until she was done to invite questions, comments and concerns.
"Ok, baby girl there looks great, very healthy and developing nicely," she told them, handing over printouts for them. "I have one slight concern though; Sara you're at the bare minimum of weight gain and though it's not really a problem, I would like to see you gain just a little more."
They talked for a few minutes more, Doctor Lenoir assuring them that everything was fine, that there was no danger to the baby, and that both mother and child were doing very well. She walked through their diet with them and made a few suggestions, and then let them go with the next appointment date and a clean bill of health.
An hour later Sara lay drowsily on the sofa with Socks and Romeo sprawled on her chest while Gil made dinner. Sleepily she gazed at an image of her baby's face, showing Romeo when the kitten batted the paper. When he cocked his head to the side as though studying the picture, she smiled lazily as her eyes drifted shut.
…
On Friday morning Gil woke early and rolled carefully onto his side. Sara was curled up facing him, a strand of hair falling across her nose and a hint of a smile gracing her lips as she slumbered. He took his time in studying her sleeping form; the soft glow of her skin, the thick mass of long chocolate curls, the gentle tickle of her eyelashes delicately casting tiny shadows on her skin in the early morning glow of a golden dawn. His gaze slid reverently over the curves and contours of her neck, shoulders, arms and chest until it fixed on her swollen belly, draped in the light summer sheet. They were lucky, he mused, oh so lucky to have another chance at this. He remembered with vivid clarity the devastation of the loss of their first child. They had been teaching a course on forensics together in London and had gone for a walk during their lunch break. The walk had ended at the hospital, and by the time night crept in their baby was gone.
Months later they were living in Paris, enjoying the food and the culture, taking in the sights and sounds of a foreign city. He taught during the day; sometimes Sara snuck into his lectures, sitting in the back, quietly taking notes or just simply observing; always with a soft, dreamy smile on her face. Other days she ventured out alone, wandering the streets and photographing the architecture. One evening they had walked home from his lecture together, only to have her collapse before they made it. They were rushed to the hospital, with Gil trying his best to answer the rapid fire French questions. By the time they arrived Sara's jeans were soaked with blood and she was wavering in and out of consciousness, tears of pain running down her face.
Watching her sleep so peacefully next to him, Gil stroked her cheek and nuzzled her hair when she curled into him with a sigh. The doctor who had treated her spoke better English than his French, and had explained that a placental deformity had caused the fetal death, and because Sara was at seventeen weeks, they would have to do a dilation and evacuation the following morning. Throughout the night she had slept heavily; sedated to manage the pain, said the doctor, though which type he didn't clarify. Gil stayed in a chair, his head resting on the mattress next to her shoulder, his hand clinging to hers as he fought off tears and desolation.
Coming around from the surgery Sara was distraught, sobbing quietly in his arms. When the doctor admitted that afternoon that while they had indeed removed all of the fetus, there had been serious complications and they were unlikely to conceive again Gil had felt something come loose inside himself, as though a newly realized and long buried dream had been snatched from them in the cruelest of ways. Courtesy of the French surgeon's mistake Sara was slow to heal physically, suffering from a series of nasty infections and a great deal of physical pain.
Emotionally, they were bound tighter together in their shared loss. They talked and remembered until their voices were raw and their eyes sore from the tears. They sat in the park and enjoyed the quiet solitude of nature, sadly agreeing that perhaps it was not meant to be. Two months after the event, with Sara finally feeling well again they drove to the coast one weekend and found a secluded spot overlooking the ocean. They ate a picnic tea, and cuddled together on the blanket.
As the sun began to set they walked to the edge of the cliff. The hospital had given them a tiny jar of ashes; the tiny remains of the baby they had learned would have been their son. When the first rays of the sun touched the ocean Gil gently unscrew the cap and tilted the jar, letting the light breeze carry the ashes of little Max out to sea. They stood there, in each other's arms, until the last ray of sunlight vanished below the horizon, letting go and saying goodbye.
Sara sighed in her sleep, and Gil grinned, knowing she was starting to wake. Gently he stroked the skin of the arm she had pushed against his chest, his touch reverently tracing her fingers. He slid a hand over her shoulder, running it slowly down her side and over her belly. He caressed her stomach, a knot of joy tight in his chest as the baby shifted under his touch. Sara exhaled softly, and rolled onto her back with a slight purr of pleasure. Feeling an overwhelming sense love and hope at their creation of another, flourishing life, Gil kissed her navel and moved up her body, trailing kisses until he came to her lips. Slowly, taking his time and thoroughly enjoying himself, he kissed her into wakefulness.
"Happy birthday dear," he breathed into her ear before kissing her passionately. Sara groaned softly into his embrace, twining her limbs around him. With a slow, adoring rhythm he made love to her; his kisses filled with emotion, his touch feather light yet searing and his eyes staring into hers with the fire of devotion.
After showering together and dressing, Gil guided her to the kitchen table while he made breakfast. Sara watched, amused, as he mixed batter, hated the waffle iron and washed berries. When he sat next to her and handed over her plate she grinned at him and shook her head. Leaning sideways she kissed him lightly, laughing.
"I haven't got a cake," he admitted. Drawn in syrup, and then outlined in the berries was a slightly wobbly three and a nine. Still laughing, she kissed him again.
…
"Shall we go out for dinner?" asked Gil as they drove toward Animal Ark. "Your choice, of course."
Sara leaned back in her chair; her head turned sideways and gaze settling comfortably on him.
"I don't know," she mused, "It sounds nice, but so does an evening of just us. Peace and quiet." Gil pulled up at a red light and turned to look at her.
"What?" he asked with a grin, noticing her radiant smile.
"Have I told you yet today exactly how much I love you?" she asked.
"No," he replied, the corners of his mouth creeping up.
"Too much to put into words," she sighed happily. "To the ends of the earth and back again. More than there are stars in the universe." His laughter was a warm and rich sound that filled the cabin of the car. He leaned over to kiss her softly, his fingers trailing gently through her hair.
"Multiply all of that, and you might just scratch the surface of how I feel about you," he replied, teasingly. Her peals of laughter joined his; the contrasting tones a harmonious duet.
She kissed him back, and then sat upright once more, pointing to the traffic light.
"It's green dear, and we're going to be late for the morning meeting." He blew her another kiss, and turned his attention back to the road.