lvpd_sidle: (dangerous -- noinfoprovided)
"Shit, Sara, are you all right?"

"I think so, Gibbs," she says hoarsely, pushing herself off the ground. "What about the shooters?"

"A unit caught them speeding away--Christ, why the hell are you worrying about that? You could've been killed!"

"I know." She swallows hard, feeling sick. "I know. If you hadn't knocked me down--"

Gibbs gives her a confused look, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't get to you--thought you tripped over something."

I didn't trip...

"Guess I did. Thank God for small mercies."

"No kidding." Her supervisor sighs. "I'll handle the paperwork needed--let the EMTs check you out, then go home. I don't want to see you in the lab for at least a week."

"I'm not going to argue about that."

He chuckles. "Miracles never cease. Go, Sara."

She heads towards the waiting paramedics, breathing in deeply to calm herself.

You're all right. You're all right. You're all right.

She laughs as the date comes to mind. "Happy birthday to me. I'm alive."
lvpd_sidle: (about to break -- csiallie)
At first it is dark and she feels the sensation of falling--

Never seen such intelligence in such a small child--

Be good for Daddy, sweetheart. Mama's not here--

You were under the mistaken impression that I had strong feelings for you--

Sidle, you've got to take better care of yourself. You'll get killed otherwise, and I don't want to lose my best CSI--


That catches her attention, a memory slowly niggling back out to the forefront.

In a way, it's almost like watching a movie. She sees herself stocking her kit and annoyed at the fact that the lab still hadn't acquired more Kevlar vests. Trading a smart-assed quip with her supervisor, ignoring the cop leering over at her from the squad car.

Unlike before, she can see the other car pulling up behind her, the gun being pointed out the window--

And she understands. This is it. The one chance I have the one chance to change things the one chance to make a difference--

Is that what you wish? All that you wish?

The source of the voice does not matter, but the questions do.

Don't let me forget Murphy. Or Milliways. Any of it.

Please.


It is your wish.

Ground beneath her feet and she runs as fast as she can, knocking herself over.

"You owe me one," she whispers, eyes closing. "You owe me."
lvpd_sidle: (broken wings -- princessjen723)
After two years in the place, Sara feels she knows the corridors as well as anyone else does.
Never expected a bar as my afterlife.
She goes upstairs, wandering down towards her room. She's not thinking about where she is going. Her mind is occupied with other matters, and it's not like the hall has ever changed on her.
Someday, the door will come for me.
Her hand touches the doorknob and it feels the same. Without really looking, she opens it and steps through--
Just once, I wish I had met him. Had coffee. Gone dancing.
But it is not her room.
Why did I have to find him now?
And it is no longer the bar.

[ooc: White text is from different threads.]

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Sara Sidle

March 2008

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