A challenge following the following rules
Sara's cleaning out her apartment and finds an stuffed lion given to her on Valentine's Day by Greg
1. Sara must cry on the lion
2. Hank must be mentioned
3. Must be a Sandle story
4. The lion must have a name
5. The lion must be brightly colored
6. The lion must have its mane styled funky at some point in the story
7. No killing characters
One shot Sandle
I don't own the characters or the show…but I sure as heck wish I did.
"Wow," Sara Sidle sighed as she pulled a stuffed lion out of a pile of her belongings on the top shelf of her closet.
She was cleaning out her apartment as she tried to do yearly, cleaning it from top to bottom. In most apartments this small it would be a fairly easy task. But Sara had a tendency to leave things where they landed and had neglected the chore of cleaning out her closet in particular for three years.
She examined the stuffed lion and grinned. It was bright orange and yellow, with orange paws and a flaming mane of fluorescent red, orange, and yellow. Some of the mane hair was falling out but there was still enough for her to shape it into the mohawk it wore when she received it. She smiled as she looked at the wooden airbrushed surfboard necklace it wore like a collar. What had he called this lion?...Heldig…lucky. That was just like Greg, he never did anything normal.
A series of sharp knocks on her apartment door jolted Sara out of her thoughts. She sat the lion on the couch on her way to the door.
"Hey, Sara," Greg said as she opened the door. "Greg, what are you doing here?" she asked him. "You called me for a ride to work 'cause your car's in the shop, remember?" he stated obviously. "Yeah, well, I didn't expect you so early. Come on in," she said leading him in. "I know you like to go in early," Greg stated as he followed Sara in and closed the door behind him. "Not this early, Greg," she laughed as he glanced nervously around the room, "Come on, Greggo, don't be shy, set down." She sat down on the couch and motioned for him to do the same. As he sat down at the opposite end of the couch as her he noticed a familiar looking stuffed toy next to him. "Heldig!" Greg yelled childishly picking up the lion and hugging it as Sara laughed. "I just found it, Greg, I can't believe you remember it," Sara smiled. "Of course I remember him," Greg sighed, "I gave him to you for Valentine's Day, do you remember that?" he teased. "Of course," Sara smiled.
She remembered it very well. She had just broken up with Hank the week before. She remembered Greg walking up to her, childishly concealing the lion behind his back before thrusting it out to her. Its mane was styled in a mohawk that greatly resembled Greg's. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sara!" he had said smiling, "His name's Heldig and that means lucky in Norwegian." She took the lion and he pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the cheek then whispered in her ear, "You can't stay mad at him forever." She remembered coming home and soaking the lion's mane with her tears. She realized then that someone else actually cared about her. She thought of that every time she saw the lion.
Tears had begun to form in Sara's eyes at these memories. Greg noticed this and moved closer to Sara and took her in his arms. "Sar, are you okay?" he whispered. "Yeah, but I've always called the lion Gregory," she smiled. He pulled out of the embrace only slightly enough to look her in the eyes briefly before meeting her in a loving and passionate kiss. As they pulled back Greg chuckled softly, "Then maybe I should change my name to Heldig, because I must be lucky tonight."
5 Years Later
Sara leaned over to give a quick kiss on the cheek to 4-year-old Jaret Gregory Sanders. Greg came up beside her and tucked the small, brown-haired boy into bed. "You know, I really must be heldig because five years ago I would have never imagined this," Greg said joining his wife by the doorway to their son's bedroom. "Me neither, love, me neither," Sara said as she turned off the bedroom light. They shared a short kiss and watched their son; softly lit by the hall light; drift off to sleep, clutching Gregory the lion close to his chest.