This started out as a short drabble but got a bit out of hand. I really miss Sarah and Sawyer and hope they come back next season.

Sarah Weller loved her brother, but if she was being totally honest, she'd have to admit that she was dreading this visit.

She kept one eye on her son's back as they made their way out of the baggage claim area at La Guardia Airport and scanned the faces in the waiting crowd with the other.

She knew Kurt was eager for her to spend time with his new girlfriend, Jane, but as eager as Sarah was to see him, she didn't share his enthusiasm. The last time she'd seen Jane, the woman had been pretending to be Taylor Shaw, a childhood friend magically returned after being missing for twenty-five years. Only the whole thing had been a lie just to worm her way into Kurt's affections and the FBI. And when the lie had been revealed, Kurt had been destroyed. And even though he may have forgiven and forgotten, Sarah hadn't. She'd never seen her brother so devastated, especially following on the heels of their father's death and his deathbed revelation that he'd killed Taylor.

Kurt wasn't entirely wrong, though: Sarah was going to spend some time with Jane this week. She was going to find a few moments—away from her brother—to let Jane know that if she ever even thought about hurting Kurt again, Sarah was going to make her pay, no matter how many fancy martial arts the tattooed woman knew.

"Mom! There they are!" Sawyer waved frantically, and Sarah found Kurt in the crowd, waving back at his nephew. And Jane was standing beside him.

Sarah stifled a sigh, plastered a smile on her face, and went forward to greet them.

The first thing she noticed was that Jane looked nervous. Good. Although it was a little bit surprising, she had to admit. Someone who had no compunction about posing as a dead girl to gain the trust of her friends and family should have no concern about meeting her boyfriend's sister.

In fact, she was so nervous that she seemed to have a death grip on Kurt's hand. And Kurt appeared to be squeezing her hand right back, which made Sarah a little uneasy, too. She'd never seen Kurt nervous about including a girlfriend in family gatherings before. Not even Allie, with whom he now had a daughter.

Sawyer all but threw himself into Kurt's arms, forcing the couple to let go. "Uncle Kurt! I saw the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building from the plane!"

"Jane." Sarah gave her a cool nod but made no move to hug her.

"Hi, Sarah," Jane said softly. "It's good to see you. How was your flight?"

Sarah shrugged. "Long."

"There was so much turbulence when we took off," Sawyer informed them. "The plane bounced all over the place!"

Jane grimaced, and Kurt grinned over Sawyer's head at her. "Not everyone hates flying as much as you do."

Sarah frowned. "I thought you flew planes?"

Jane shrugged uncomfortably. "I know how to pilot a helicopter. But I don't like to fly."

Okay, that was weird.

Sawyer finally let go of Kurt long enough for Sarah to hug her brother. She couldn't help looking over him with a critical eye as she did so. He looked… healthier than she'd seen him in a long time, she noted with some surprise. She'd gotten so used to seeing his eyes red-rimmed with fatigue and weighed down by the purple hollows beneath them that it almost seemed odd to see him without them. She'd worried that taking on the Assistant Directorship was likely to send him to an early grave, but clearly he'd figured out how to manage that stress.

"Come one, let's get you guys out of the airport." Kurt grabbed Sarah's suitcase as Jane grabbed Sawyer's.

"I can get that," Sarah told them, looking at Jane as she spoke.

"I've got it," the other woman told her. "You've had a long day." She lifted the heavy bag with ease and gestured for Sarah to go first.

Sawyer dominated the conversation on the ride to Kurt's—well, now apparently Kurt and Jane's—apartment. Jane offered up the passenger seat, but Sarah had quickly climbed into the backseat with Sawyer. Sarah chimed in from time to time, but Jane was quiet, allowing Kurt and Sawyer to catch up. At one point Sarah saw Kurt look over at Jane and reach over to touch her hand. Jane smiled at him, her fingers curling around his, but she remained silent.

Entering the apartment brought another strange surprise. Somehow Sarah had expected the place to look completely different. She had changed a few things when she'd moved in, and she hadn't been Kurt's girlfriend nor had she planned to live there for very long. But as she looked around the living room now, everything looked pretty much the same as it had when she'd left. The pillows she'd bought for the sofa were still propped at either end, the soft blanket still draped over the back. The framed pictures—one of Kurt holding a newborn Sawyer, and another of her and Kurt as kids, sporting terribly haircuts and silly expressions—she'd hung on the wall were still there. Sarah would have wanted to spread her own things around, make the space seem like hers, but it hardly seemed like Jane had made a mark on the place at all.

Sarah didn't know what to make of that. To be fair, it hadn't been that long since Jane had returned from Quantico—six weeks now, maybe? But still. Perhaps things weren't as serious between Jane and her brother as she'd thought?

After delivering their suitcases to the guest room, Kurt immediately returned to the kitchen, Sarah trailing behind him. She stopped at the edge of the counter, not wanting to get in her brother's way as he moved to check something simmering in a crockpot on the counter.

Jane had no such reservations, Sarah noted. She moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone at home in the space, pulling plates out of the cabinet, effortlessly sidestepping around Kurt as he stirred the contents of the dish.

"Something smells great," Sarah said brightly. "Dare I hope—"

Kurt flashed her a grin. "Yes, I made your sweet and sour chicken."

"I haven't had that since we left New York." She beamed at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Even though it's the easiest recipe ever. I have no idea how Sawyer grew so much since I saw you guys last. It's certainly not because of your cooking."

Jane looked down into the silverware drawer, counting forks with excessive concentration, but Sarah saw the smile that she tried to hide.

"This is what it's like to have a brother," Sarah told her. "No respect at all."

She didn't know what happened, but she felt a change in the air.

Jane had grown still, hand outstretched over the drawer.

Kurt stepped up behind her, one hand on her back, deftly scooping the silverware out of her hand with the other. "Sawyer, can you set the table, please?" He handed the silverware across the counter to his nephew, never moving away from Jane.

Jane pushed the drawer closed and raised her eyes to look at Sarah. "I have a brother."

Kurt stood very still, focused completely on Jane, his only movement the hand that rubbed slowly over her shoulder blade.

"Our parents were killed when we very young. Eventually we were adopted by a woman who went on to become a domestic terrorist. Kurt and I tried to convince my brother to help the FBI stop her, but…" She swallowed, her haunted green eyes staring at something that Sarah couldn't see. "He wouldn't join us. And now I'm an FBI agent, trying to stop people like my mother and brother."

Sarah couldn't imagine what that must be like. Like any siblings, she and Kurt hadn't always gotten along, but she'd always known that she could depend on him, to do the right thing, to be there for her when she needed him.

"Anyway," said Jane, forcing a smile, "I can't cook either, and Roman made fun of me, too." She looked up at Kurt and reached up to touch the hand resting on her shoulder. "Let's eat."

Kurt nodded but gave Jane's shoulder a final squeeze before letting go.

Sarah wasn't surprised by his protective behavior, but one thing was very clear: Her brother clearly lacked all objectivity when it came to Jane. She was going to have to find someone else to talk to about her concerns.

###

Sarah was pacing by the pickup counter at the coffee shop when Reade walked in.

She'd been in New York for three days now. Sawyer had been delighted to catch up with his friends, and she'd been enjoying spending time with her brother and the friends she'd left behind. But she hadn't been able to find time to talk to either Kurt or Jane alone. They seemed joined at hip. If they weren't at work together, they were at home together. And the more that she watched them, the more that she realized how tied to Jane her brother was, the more worried she had become that Kurt was setting himself up for a fall.

Reade found her in the cluster of customers right away.

"Hi, Edgar." She leaned in to give him a friendly hug and realized right away that was a mistake. He felt solid and familiar, and the hand that brushed her back sent shivers down her spine that she couldn't entirely hide.

"Hi." He stepped back, a little too quickly, and she tried not to take it personally. He'd moved on, she'd moved on, they were both adults. "You look good. Portland agrees with you."

"It's nice. I like my job, Sawyer has some nice friends and gets to spend time with his dad. It's all good."

"Glad to hear it." He nodded, and then looked over at the counter behind them.

"Oh! I ordered you an oolong. I hope that's okay. I can get you something else—"

"No." He smiled then, the kind of smile that reached all the way up to his eyes. "That's fine. Thanks."

They collected their mugs and made their way to a small table by the window.

"So what did you need to ask to me about?"

Sarah sipped her latte and tried to marshal her thoughts. "It's… I'm just worried about my brother. And Jane."

Reade frowned and set his mug down. "Is everything all right with them?"

"Yeah," she said, startled by the look of concern in his eyes. "I mean, everything seems okay."

He relaxed. "Yeah, he's been really happy to have her back. He was pretty lonely while she was at Quantico."

Sarah nodded. She had talked more to Kurt on the phone during the five months that Jane had been at Quantico than she had the rest of the time she'd lived in Portland. And most of those conversations had involved him bragging about how well Jane was doing, which was kind of the reason Sarah was here.

"I'm just worrying that he's not… objective about Jane." She looked down into her mug. "You know how hard things were after Dad died and Jane… turned out not to be Taylor. And then she just waltzes back in, three months later. And then you guys stop some crazy woman from nuking DC, who turns out to be Jane's mother, and now Jane's a full FBI agent and living with my brother."

Reade leaned back in his seat and exhaled. "You should really talk to Kurt about—"

"He won't talk about work with me." She rolled her eyes. "I think he's afraid he's going to scare me or something. I know what you guys do, and I know it's dangerous. And I know that people like me and Sawyer are lucky that there are people like you willing to do this job, and keep us safe." She fidgeted with her mug. "But even with all the tough-guy stuff… She hurt him, Edgar. And then he just… forgave her."

He leaned back in his seat. "It wasn't that easy, Sarah. But you should—"

"Talk to my brother, I know. But he won't talk to me about Jane, except to sing her praises. He's really… protective of her." Which she understood, she really did. That was who Kurt was. He was protective of Sarah, too. But she wasn't going to turn on him, and Jane… Jane already had.

Reade was regarding her steadily over the rim of his cup. "Jane is protective of him, too."

"I know, but—" Part of Sarah was worried that even though he knew the truth, somehow Kurt had never been able to separate Jane from Taylor. Jane wasn't an innocent five-year-old who'd gone missing. She'd been a terrorist, for heaven's sake. She was, from all reports, a trained killer. Hardly someone her brother should be protective of.

"Jane has put herself in the line of fire to save him more times than I can count. She's saved my life—more than once—and the rest of the team, too."

And lord only knew Sarah was grateful for that, but—

"How can he trust her again?" she burst out. "How can you?" She wanted to trust Jane, she really did. But no one was giving her much to go on, and she couldn't help but look at him beseechingly.

Reade sighed and looked into his cup. "Weller didn't tell you anything about how Jane rejoined the team?"

Sarah shook her head.

He gave her a grim look. "There wasn't any 'waltzing' involved." He fiddled with the string of the tea bag. "When Weller arrested Jane, the CIA took custody of her right away."

Sarah shrugged. "And?" It wasn't like it was a capital offense for a woman with amnesia to think she was someone she wasn't. They probably couldn't hold her for more than a day, if that, for a non-crime like that.

"They took her to a black site."

She blinked, uncomprehending.

"A location that isn't officially on the books," he elaborated. "They kept her there for three months. And they tortured her," he said flatly, "trying to get information about who she was and what she was doing here."

"Tortured," Sarah said faintly. "You mean—"

"I mean tortured."

She forced herself to nod. This was why she'd asked Edgar. She knew that he'd tell her the truth. Kurt would sugarcoat things to keep from upsetting her, as though she had no idea what went on in the world. "So they… tortured... her for three months. And then…"

"And then she broke out."

"She escaped from the CIA?" Sarah blinked. That was… kind of impressive.

"And then the NSA tracked her down and sent your brother to drag her back into the FBI at gun point. And gave her the choice of helping us stop the people who sent her to the FBI, or going back to the CIA."

Not much of a choice there. Sarah pushed away a pang of sympathy for Jane. Just because she'd been treated horribly didn't mean she was going to stick around and not break Kurt's heart again. Actually, if anything, it gave her more motivation to move on. Except that Jane had gone through five months at Quantico and come back to New York.

None of this made much sense, really.

"How do you know she's not lying this time, too?"

His face twisted uncomfortably, and he looked away from her. But Sarah knew him well enough to know that if she was patient, he'd tell her whatever it was he was so reluctant to spit out.

She sipped her latte and waited, her gaze steady on his face.

"Look," Reade put down his cup and leaned forward. "The people who sent Jane to the FBI… They told her she was Taylor, and they threatened her."

This was a woman who apparently escaped from the CIA. How threatened could she be?

Reade read the skepticism on her face. "They told her they'd kill Kurt if she didn't do what they wanted her to do."

Sarah digested that for a second.

"They're very convincing." Something in his voice told her he was more than just relating what Jane had told him. "When we were investigating, I found some information that I wanted to follow up on. But someone from Jane's organization didn't want me to. They threatened you. And Sawyer."

Sawyer. A cold chill went down Sarah's spine.

Reade regarded her steadily. "Sometimes you do things you don't want to do to protect the people you care about."

Things like… breaking up with her?

But that was clearly all that Reade was willing to share with her. He took a sip of his tea. "Jane's been through a lot. So has Kurt. And somehow, they both managed to forgive each other and find some kind of happiness in all this. I'm happy for them, I really am."

Sarah chewed on her lip. She didn't want to do anything to mess up Kurt's happiness. She'd never seen him this happy before. But she'd also never seen him as devastated as he'd been when he'd arrested Jane.

She wished she could just stop worrying and be happy for him, as Reade obviously was.

He reached over to touch her hand, the warmth of his fingers reassuring on hers.

"Jane's got Kurt's back, Sarah."

She nodded and tried to believe that.

###

"Can we play a game, Mom?" asked Sawyer.

Sarah looked over at her son, who was sprawled on the floor in front of the television. "I don't know if Uncle Kurt has any—"

"All the games you left here are in that cabinet." Kurt pointed from his seat at the other end of the sofa.

They were hanging out at the apartment after dinner. Sawyer had grown bored of adult conversation, while Sarah was pretending she wasn't studying her brother and his girlfriend.

The conversation she'd had with Edgar the day before had reassured Sarah, at least a little bit. And now she was noticing things that she hadn't seen—or wanted to see, if she was totally honest—before.

Like the fact that her brother and Jane touched constantly. Which wasn't to say they were publicly demonstrative; quite the opposite, actually. Sarah hadn't seen them kiss or do anything more than hold hands in front of her. She imagined they were so used to working together that restraint in front of other people had become second nature.

But if one of them walked by the other, they would brush the backs of their hands together. So quickly you probably wouldn't notice if you weren't looking. And despite the fact that it felt a little creepy, Sarah was looking.

In the cozy apartment kitchen, they were always telling each other where they were without words. Kurt's hand on the small of Jane's back as he reached by her to get a knife, Jane's hand on Kurt's hip as she put something in the sink. Tiny, quick touches that said, "I'm here," but also weren't insignificant. At each touch, the other leaned closer, acknowledging it, welcoming the contact.

It was… kind of sweet, actually.

Sawyer extracted the stack of board games they'd left behind when they moved and began to sort through them.

Jane perched on the arm of the sofa beside Kurt, watching Sawyer. "I don't know how to play Monopoly," she muttered at Kurt.

He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Yes, you do. You're just terrible at it."

Jane scowled at him, but he just grinned playfully up at her.

Across the room, Sawyer stopped sorting through the pile and sat very still, setting off Sarah's Mom-radar.

"What did you find?" she asked.

He didn't answer for a minute, looking down at the box in his lap.

Sarah leaned forward until she could read the cover of the box. Parcheesi.

He looked up at her. "Grandpa really liked this one."

Beside her, she felt the sofa shift as Kurt tensed.

She and Kurt didn't argue about a lot of things, but the one subject they'd argued over for most of the past twenty-five years was their father. When he'd been alive, Sarah had been so angry at Kurt's refusal to have anything to do with their father. And when he'd died… Well, she was slowly coming to grips with what he'd done, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to tell Sawyer. His grandfather was dead. It seemed cruel to take away the good memories that Sawyer had. But Kurt disagreed—emphatically—with her decision to preserve their father's memory for her son.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Kurt plant his clenched fists on his knees. She drew a deep breath and turned toward him, prepared to remind him that she did not want to have this conversation in front of Sawyer.

Kurt wasn't looking at her. Jane was rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that reminded Sarah of the way Kurt had rubbed Jane's back when she'd told Sarah about her brother. She looked down at him with an expression of concern, understanding… and love. Kurt stared up at her, and some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. He closed his eyes and leaned toward her, resting the side of his head against her stomach. Jane's hand slipped to his shoulder, curling around him and hugging him to her.

Jane is protective of him, too, Reade's words echoed in Sarah's head.

Kurt drew a deep breath and sat up, looking over at Sarah. She was braced for an argument, but he just gave her a rueful smile. "Yeah, he did," he said to Sawyer. "Did you find UNO in that pile? Aunt Jane's been practicing. I told her we'd still beat her, but she's pretty stubborn."

Aunt Jane? Somehow that didn't bother Sarah nearly as much as she'd thought it would.

Jane slipped off the sofa and knelt down on the floor to help Sawyer put away the rejected games. Kurt looked down at them, his expression thoughtful, not angry. And then he looked over at Sarah. He didn't say anything, just gave her a small nod before leaning forward to help Sawyer shuffle the cards.

It dawned on her then how much her brother had changed. He'd been an angry teenager, quick to lose his temper. As he'd gotten older, that fire had been turned inwards, giving him an intensity that he'd focused on his job. Even when he wasn't at work, he'd always had a certain amount of tension about him and never seemed to fully relax. A year ago, Kurt would have stormed out of this room, Sarah was sure of it. But instead, he was setting up a card game to play with his nephew.

Sarah blinked, trying to get over the surprise.

Jane was now seated on the floor by Kurt's feet, leaning against his leg. She reached up to put her hand on his knee, and he covered it with his own, squeezing her fingers gently.

Jane's got Kurt's back.

Sarah studied Jane with new appreciation. Jane radiated the same kind of intensity that Kurt did, but when they were around each other, it was like they somehow canceled out, leaving only peace behind. Around Jane, Kurt was at ease.

And for the first time, Sarah was glad Jane was here.

"You playing?"

Sarah blinked and realized that Kurt was holding a handful of cards out to her.

"Absolutely." She caught Sawyer's eye, and they grinned conspiratorially at each other. "Aunt Jane may have been practicing, but Sawyer and I will always be the UNO champions in this family."

###

Sarah folded a shirt and set it carefully in the top of her suitcase. On the floor beside her sat Sawyer's suitcase, already packed and ready for their early-morning flight.

As much as she was looking forward to going home and sleeping in her own bed again, she had to admit she was a little bit sad to be leaving. The visit had turned out to be so much better than she'd expected. Kurt and Jane had taken today off to wander around the city and act like tourists with Sarah and Sawyer, and they'd all enjoyed themselves thoroughly.

What struck Sarah the most was how much her brother had laughed. Not just tiny chuckles, gone before you realized they were there, but deep belly laughs that startled people around them and made his whole face crease with the force of his smile. It had been years since she'd seen him that relaxed, and she knew now what—or rather who—was behind the change. Because the normally quiet and serious Jane laughed around Kurt just as much. She bore his teasing with good grace, and landed a few barbs of her own now and then. And oddly, that made Sarah happy, too. She couldn't see Kurt with anyone who wasn't as strong as he was—his intensity would just bowl over anyone weaker. But Jane was strong enough to pull him back when he grew too serious and tough enough to keep him from getting too cocky when he wasn't.

And she would look after Kurt. Which was probably an odd thing to say about a man closer to forty than thirty, Sarah admitted as she tucked the last pair of shoes into the side of the suitcase. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe she'd just been single for too long now, and the idea of two adults looking after each other had become a foreign concept to her. She hadn't dated much since she'd been in Portland; she had told herself she was too busy getting settled in her new life. But seeing Reade made her realize that maybe that wasn't the entire truth.

Her gaze strayed to the cell phone sitting on the nightstand. He'd texted her earlier to wish her a safe trip, and she'd texted back to thank him. And that was it. She lived in Portland now. He lived here. She ignored her vague sense of regret. They were friends now, at least. That would have to be enough.

She checked the contents of her carry-on bag and realized that she was missing the book she'd been reading. She looked around for it for a minute and then remembered that she'd left it on the table in the living room.

She padded quietly out into the hall to look for it. The lights were off, and she assumed Kurt and Jane had gone to bed. And then she heard music. Had they left the stereo on?

And then she realized that it wasn't the stereo at all, but rather someone humming. Not someone… her brother.

It had been years since she'd heard Kurt sing, and she'd forgotten what a beautiful voice he had. When they were kids, he'd sung in the church choir, and she dimly remembered hearing him sing solos, the sound filling the vaulted ceiling. But then Taylor had disappeared, and he'd stopped going to choir practice so he could search the woods behind the house. And then their mother had left, and they'd stopped going to church entirely. She searched her memory, but the only time after that she could remember hearing him sing was to a newborn Sawyer, some ten years ago.

But that was definitely his voice she was hearing now.

She frowned for a minute, trying to remember the words that went along with the tune. It was an Elvis Presley song, she remembered at last.

Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Take my hand,
Take my whole life, too
For I can't help falling in love with you

She crept toward the living room, not wanting to startle him. And then blinked in confusion when she found the room empty. She looked around and realized that the patio door was still open, taking advantage of the perfect weather they'd enjoyed that day.

And out on the patio, Kurt and Jane were dancing.

Kurt was humming, Jane's hand held securely in his, his other hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her tucked close against him as they swayed together. His eyes were closed, a small smile playing on his lips, and he was resting his cheek against her temple.

And the expression on Jane's face as she nestled closer was… dreamy. Blissful was the only word that came close to describing it in Sarah's mind.

If Sarah had harbored any remaining doubts that Jane loved her brother just as much as he did her, they evaporated at that moment.

She watched them for a moment, feeling wistful and, if she were being completely honest, slightly jealous.

She waited until they were facing away from the living room to dart in and grab her book. She didn't want to interrupt such a private, perfect moment.

###

Kurt and Jane drove them to the airport the next morning, despite their early flight.

There was a flurry of activity as they all hopped out of the car in the departures area. Kurt got their suitcases out of the trunk while Sawyer hugged Jane, and then it was Sarah's turn. "Take care of yourself," she said to the woman who had changed her brother's life so much for the better, and then, as she wrapped her arms around Jane to give her a hug, she added in whisper so Kurt wouldn't overhear, "Take care of him, please."

"I will," Jane responded with a whispered vehemence that warmed Sarah's heart. She returned the hug with a force Sarah should have expected—Jane wasn't someone who did anything by half measures. "Take care of yourself and Sawyer," she said as she let go.

Sarah gave her brother a hug, and then they were off.

She glanced over her shoulder as they headed through the doors. Kurt and Jane were still standing by the SUV. They were holding hands, and this time, the sight made Sarah feel nothing but happiness that they had each other to hang on to.

###

Sarah was on her way up to the receptionist's desk to return a patient file when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She yanked it out to find a text from her brother. It had been almost two months since their trip to New York, and now they were trying to find a time that worked for him and Jane to come for a visit. Sarah tapped the screen to view the message.

She couldn't suppress a squeal when she saw the picture he'd sent.

"Good news?" asked Barb, the receptionist, as she took the folder from Sarah.

Sarah tipped the phone around so Barb could see the picture: A slender, tattooed hand sporting a beautiful diamond ring.

"My brother got engaged!"

"Nice ring. Nice ink, too," Barb noted. "I thought you didn't like her?"

"I was wrong," Sarah admitted with zero hesitation. "She's perfect for him."

Author's note: Title from "Brother of Mine" by Anderson Bruford Wakeman Howe, for obvious reasons.