Disclaimer: If I owned CSI or anything related to it other than the DVDs, do you really think it would've taken Sara and Grissom this long to get together? The new characters in this story are based off of myself and dear friend Alathea. Any other connection with real persons is purely coincidental. Let it be known that I came up with my penname AFTER I wrote this story.
Spoilers: Some here and there, but we've seen all the episodes, so it's not really spoiling, is it?
Summary: GSR. Two new members stir up old memories.
A/N: Many thanks to Kasey Clark, who has helped me through the many times I've wanted to quit; Rachel, who helps me brainstorm and edit; and Alathea Aiden, my sister in every sense of the word, who started the CSI Sisterhood and encourages me to write. Without these, I wouldn't be who I am, and none of my stories would exist.
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Chapter 1: New Arrivals
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Grissom walked into the conference room with a feeling of anticipation settling in his stomach. Once he had taken his seat at the head of the table, he looked around at the faces of his entire graveyard staff and saw his anticipation mirrored in their eyes as all chatter stopped and heads turned, awaiting an explanation.
It was very rare that Grissom ever called a staff meeting. When he did, the crew got very nervous, knowing that it had to be important. Now, nearing the beginning of shift, the team listened intently, expecting bad news, pay cuts, or layoffs. They were pleasantly surprised when he began with praise.
"Thanks for coming. First of all, I want to congratulate you all on a job well done concerning the last case. It's always hard to work a serial, but you all put forth your best efforts and that helped more than anything else. So thank you all again.
"Now, along those same lines," he continued, "because of the quick and efficient interdepartmental cooperation, we have gotten an overall shift raise..."
He paused for a moment to let the cheering and applause die down.
"… And with a heaven sent up in budget, I have the opportunity to hire two new CSIs. I wanted to give you all the heads up, as two of the many applicants should be coming in either by the end of shift tonight or the beginning of shift tomorrow. I want to test them out to see how they'll fit in. Out of every application I've looked at, these two seem the most promising."
With that, Grissom looked down to the many papers before him, handed out assignments to the five CSIs currently on his shift and promptly left the room, signaling the end of the meeting. Confused looks were share as the graveyard family slowly got up and back to their stations, chatter arising once again. All wondered the same thing: Could any newbies ever really fit into the family they'd formed?
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No sooner had Grissom sat down at his desk than a knock came on his still open door. He looked up to the familiar sight of Sara leaning on what had become her spot in his doorway.
"Grissom, can we talk?"
"Sure. Come on in," he said, nodding to a chair.
Sara closed the door behind her and stood defiantly in front of his desk, her hands on her hips.
"Grissom, do you honestly think it wise to bring two newbies onto the team?" she asked, getting straight to the point.
A moment of silence passed between them as he tried to gage her emotions. Getting nothing from her all too familiar look of stone, he tread carefully.
"First of all, for once in my life I agree with Carvallo that we need to broaden our horizons a bit. Everyone here has their specialties, but there are areas where we could use some extra help instead of bringing in other professionals. Second of all, they're not newbies. One is an anthropologist specializing in weapon identification, and the other is a former coroner who also happens to be an osteologist."
"That's not what I meant," she said with a sigh. "I was thinking more along the lines of the way they'll be treated."
"What do you mean?" Grissom asked, silently wondering why it was that she always managed to make him feel incredibly stupid, despite his overall intelligence.
"You know as well as I do that any new CSI that walks through that door will not gain an ounce of respect from this team," she stated, irritation coloring her words.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sara."
"Bullshit!" she spat. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Take a look around. Warrick is very guarded and can be downright pissy sometimes. Greg gets nervous even just around us. What will he think if just after you let him join the team, you hire two new CSIs with such extensive backgrounds in the field? Mia's the newest member here, and she's already hardened to everyone. Nick is a sweetheart, but even he gives a cold shoulder to any kind of competition. Catherine is an outright bitch when she gets worked up, sometimes even just for spite. And to top it all off, the head of this lively crew is an emotionally constipated son of a-"
"Sara…" He threw her a warning stare.
"Well, you are!" She plopped into a chair and rubbed her temples, trying to recompose herself. This was not how she'd pictured this conversation.
Grissom, on the other hand, took advantage of her silence.
"Where do you fit into your team analysis?"
"I'm the outsider. I always have been. No one really likes me here, and I suspect Catherine and Warrick may even hate me at this point, what with you having me solve all their family issues and run all the internal investigations. Hell, that's the only reason you brought me here in the first place."
He sat straight up. "That's not true, Sara. I brought you here because I trusted you."
"Bullshit. You guys formed a family before I got here. I became the redheaded stepchild, and don't even try to deny it, Grissom. I've been here for five and a half years now and experienced it all firsthand."
Grissom felt like he'd been run over by a truck. "Is that what this is about? Sara, this team respects the hell out of you! We respect your dedication to your work, your intelligence, your skills-"
"But you don't respect me. That's why I wanted the leave of absence four years ago. Beats the hell out of me why I stayed. Maybe I thought you actually cared… But not any more. I'm sick of being treated like a human yo-yo, and I will not have someone else put through the same kind of torture when-"
Sara was stopped abruptly a the sound of a knock, followed shortly by a creak as the door opened and in stepped a beautiful woman about Sara's age with red wavy hair down to the middle of her back. Her high forehead wrinkled in embarrassment when she realized she'd interrupted their conversation. Whispering a hurried apology, she made to leave, but Grissom called her back.
"Please, come in. We were just finished," he said with a forced smile, willing himself to put away any remnant of emotion concerning Sara. With a shy nod and flushed cheeks, the woman stepped back into his office and closed the door behind her, accepting Grissom's outstretched hand.
Sara turned in her chair, putting her back to the woman, embarrassed but intrigued. There was something strikingly familiar about the woman, but she couldn't place it. She listened intently as introductions were made.
"I'm Gil Grissom. I'll be your supervisor on graveyard. You must be CSI Ayden."
"Aye," the woman replied in a thick Irish accent. "I must say, I'm looking forward to working with you and your team. You've been hailed as the best in the country."
Sara wheeled around in her seat, instant recognition dawning as the woman' rich tones filled the room with a warmth that she hadn't felt in years.
"Fayre?" she ventured, a smile creeping from her eyes to her lips.
At the sound of Sara's voice, the woman turned, her brows knit in confusion, as she didn't remember anyone mentioning her given name before now. Slowly her eyes widened and a smile spread over her freckled features as she set her kit and purse on the floor.
"Sara? Is that you?"
"Oh my gosh! I can't believe it!" Sara bounded from her chair and the two women embraced for the first time in ages.
Grissom watched in utter bewilderment as they started chattering and giggling like schoolgirls. This was definitely a side of Sara he hadn't seen in years. So used to her seriousness and acid tones lately, he once again realized how much he missed the old Sara, asking himself when she had changed. Hearing another round of giggles, he fought his way back to the present.
"You two know each other?" he asked, hoping for an explanation.
"Yes."
"Aye."
He looked between the two, starting to wonder where one ended and the other began.
"Grissom, this is Fayre Rose Ayden, one of my buddies from Harvard. We lived in the same dorm and studied forensics together. She graduated top of the class."
Fayre's otherwise pale complexion flushed with color as she smiled at her old friend. "Well, I wasn't up there alone. Sara was just behind me. We had quite a time of it, always battling for the top. But it worked out for both of us, I see."
"Have you found a place to stay yet?" Sara asked, turning the conversation away from herself. "I happen to know that my apartment building has a few openings."
"Oh, that would be great! Just like old times. Sorority sisters once again!"
"Ah, the memories…" Sara sighed, suppressing a smile.
"You used to be in a sorority?" Grissom asked with a raised eyebrow.
"God, no! Are you joking? We used to make fun of those frat sluts!" Fayre crinkled her nose at the thought, bringing a bout of laughter from Sara.
"Some things will never change! Come on; let's get out of here. Shift ended six minutes ago, and we have some serious catching up to do."
With that, Sara took her friend by the arm and led her out of the building, leaving Grissom alone to wonder what the hell had just happened.
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A few hours later, the two could be seen strolling along the Strip in all its daytime glitz and glamour. Arms full of shopping bags, they headed to one of Sara's favorite dives: a small bar on the edge of the Strip known for its privacy, among other things. Sitting at one of the small tables along the wall, they chose their poisons and reminisced of better days.
"I still can't believe you're here," Sara laughed, as she took a swallow from her third long neck bottle of the morning and started picking at the label.
"I needed a change," shrugged Fayre, taking a sip from her own mug. "I traded the swamps for the sands."
"Well, I'd definitely say that's a change! I knew you'd gone to Louisiana after graduation, but I haven't heard much from you since."
"Aye. I got the coroner position there within the week. Worked as the chief Medical Examiner for eight years. At this point, there's nothing I haven't seen."
"I don't know… What about a scuba diver up a tree?"
"I have to admit, that's interesting, but I think I can top that. Try a Chinese dental torture victim floating in the bayous."
Sara winced. "Okay, you win. But I think you'll still find Vegas a challenge."
A wicked smile crossed her friend's face. "Well, you know how I love a good challenge…" Taking another gulp and raising her tankard for a refill, she continued. "So what about you? What have you been up to? What brought you here?"
"I've been here going on six years," Sara sighed. "Grissom asked me to come in from San Francisco to handle an internal investigation after a CSI was murdered at a scene. I mistakenly thought he called me in because he trusted me… I was naïve. But I was excited. I was going to work with my long lost mentor and crush… And, no doubt about it, we flirted mercilessly for the first year or so. Then – I'm not exactly sure when – something changed. He started avoiding me completely, no contact except when he 'needed' me." She marked her words with air quotations. "I'm the human yo-yo, and no one seems to care."
"Sounds like your taste in men hasn't changed much, Sara," came a voice from behind them.
They both turned to see a slender woman dressed in black walking toward them, her shoulder-length auburn hair curled in to accentuate her almond-shaped eyes.
"No fucking way! Aidia?" Sara cried as both she and Fayre jumped from their chairs to embrace their old friend.
"Yeah, it's me! Livin' it up in Vegas… Well, for a while at least," she smiled. Her amber eyes sparkled, the golden flecks shining bright as she looked into the faces that held old secrets. "You're just as I remember you. Both as gorgeous as ever, looking so cute sitting with your heads so close together, whispering conspiratorially… Although I must say, the beer is a new touch for you, Fayre."
The Irishwoman shrugged as the three of them sat, Aidia pulling up a chair from another table. "It's hard to stay completely sober when you've seen as much as I have. Being a coroner, you rarely see the spark of life in people. Sometimes a drink or two can bring it back."
The others nodded in understanding.
"I know what you mean," Aidia sighed. "L.A.'s been great, but a body stuffed in a tar pit isn't always an uplifting sight. How's New Orleans been treating you for the past few years?"
Again, Fayre shrugged. "It's been hard. After the switch to CSI, I couldn't focus. Too many memories… I thought, maybe a change..."
Her hazel eyes shifted to the misty green that warned she was close to tears. Sensing that she didn't want to talk about it, Aidia looked to Sara.
"I think we'd better get our little leprechaun home. She's not looking so good."
Fayre snorted. "No Irish jokes. Not now, Aidia. Let's get out of here and talk somewhere that isn't spinning."
"Hey, it's all good. Let's pick up your bags and get you out to the car. I'll follow you guys wherever you're going," she smiled.
"My apartment," Sara said, taking Fayre by the arm and leaving enough money on the table to cover the drinks and a generous tip. "It's not far."