dated to september 16th

Another year has passed. It should be an event that Sarah barely notices, but with a finite number of years, she's started to look at them as more precious than ever. She's thirty-five now, and she'd indulged in her moment of severe guilt and self-loathing at the fact that the male company she's been keeping nowadays is definitely not that number.

Still, she's never been a conventional sort of woman before. On the heels of her discussion with Sookie and a choice still unmade, Sarah finds her way to Cal's place, lingering outside the door once she arrives. In the end, it will be her choice, but she finds some kind of comfort in at least acknowledging that there are other people who care about her enough that she should seek out a treatment instead of simply letting all those years fade away.

The problem is that she's felt awkward around him since the clinic and after the business with Cook, she feels about a thousand times stranger for it. Thirty-five years old and she's got no damn clue how to cope with regular human interaction -- not that this place makes it any easier.

Still, she has to try sometime.

She bolsters her courage and lifts a hand to the door to knock firmly. "Cal," she calls out. "It's just me."