A/N: First – EEK to the season finale! How are we supposed to wait till September to see how that one turns out?

Now, on to the story – Thanks for reading this far! Thanks, too, for the reviews – they make it all so much more exciting for me. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I don't own CSI. Inspiration for this chapter came from episode 101, "Pilot." Some lines were also borrowed from that episode. I promise to give them back in the same condition I found them.

The Shift

"Hello?"

Grissom stood up and walked around several bookcases in his effort to reach his visitor. "Hi."

She gasped and jumped, spinning around to look at him.

In that moment, he fell in love.

Not exactly in love with her – in love with the idea of her.

In that moment, Holly Gribbs was Sara Sidle.

She resembled her, in a way – the short-ish brown hair, the big brown eyes, the wide smile. There was something in her eyes, too – something about her spirit was like Sara's.

As they shook hands, as he asked her for a pint of her blood, he knew that he was projecting all the feelings he would never let himself have for Sara onto Holly. He knew what he was doing, and he was powerless to stop it. Sara was hundreds of miles away, and Holly was right here in front of him, working for him, looking to him to be her mentor. She needed him, and he needed her.

He needed her to be the one he could pet and spoil and teach without Sara there to be the recipient of his affections.

He should have realized then that he was in too deep.

"She is cute."

To his credit, Grissom managed not to voice the thoughts running through his head. It seemed so wrong that a man as old as Dr. Leever would say something like that about Holly.

"She's a nice girl," he said instead.

"She seems nice," the doctor nodded as he leaned over the body to get to work. "Do you think she's ready for this?"

"I don't know that she was ready for an autopsy on her first night."

Again, Dr. Leever nodded. "Brass's orders?"

"Yes."

"How soon does the captain want that one out?"

"Eight hours." Grissom refused to meet the coroner's eyes. As much as he liked the older man, he didn't want him to read anything there that would give away the fact that Grissom wasn't too pleased with Brass's plan to get rid of Holly so quickly.

"Do you think she'll last?"

Grissom sighed. Consequences be damned. "I'll do my best to keep her around," he said. "Catherine will, too. We both would like to have another member on our team, regardless of what Brass wants."

"Good for you."

A faint scream made both of them look up. Grissom's eyes shot to the video monitors of the morgue.

"Holly's trapped," he said.

"I told her that the bathroom was to the right," the coroner sighed.

"I'll go get her out."

Grissom was on his way out the door before the words were fully out of his mouth. He ran to the room where Holly was trapped, and threw his arm against the door to open it from the outside.

As Holly ran out, babbling about the bodies breathing, Grissom grabbed her and pulled her into a comforting embrace. He did his best to remember that it was Holly he held, not Sara.

Grissom released her and went back to the door. He peeked in the window at the dead bodies lying in neat rows.

"You assholes!" he yelled at them.

Holly was beginning to smile when he turned back to her. In that moment, he truly thought that she would make it. He was relieved. He didn't want to lose her.

Once he had made her smile and knew that she was fine to move on with her first night on the job, he took her out of the morgue. They had a date with a convenience store.

He took a deep breath as they walked out, shaking his head slightly.

This is Holly, he told himself. She's not Sara. You can't keep thinking that she's just like Sara, or you'll never appreciate her for who she is.

On the way to the convenience store, he told her ridiculous stories – all true, but all rather ridiculous. She called him on his attempt to cheer her up, but admitted that it had worked.

Again following Brass's orders, he dropped her off at the store and returned to the lab. She would be fine dusting for prints on her own.

Wouldn't she?

Grissom stood in the lab, carefully loading a dummy head with blood. Catherine came in and watched him for a moment in silence.

"That's real blood, isn't it?" she asked, finally breaking her silence.

"Yes."

She made a face. "Dare I ask where you got it?"

"Holly."

"Holly willingly gave you her blood?"

"I didn't tie her down."

Catherine closed her eyes. "How did you get it, Gil?"

He finally looked up from the dummy to meet her eyes. "I asked for it."

"Let's see … Holly's first night on the job, she meets you, her supervisor. You welcome her aboard, ask for her signature on the required forms, make a copy of her driver's license and social security card and ask for a pint of blood?"

He gave her a mischievous grin. "Catherine, you know very well that human resources makes the copies of the driver's license and social security card."

"I don't believe you!" she exclaimed. "You honestly asked her for a pint of her blood?"

"I need it to see how the blood spatter would look assuming the wife did use blunt force in that case –"

"Stop!" Catherine exclaimed. "How did you convince her to … donate?"

He shrugged. "I told her it's standard for new hires to give a blood sample."

She gave him a look of disgust. "Sometimes, I truly wonder what goes on in that larger-than-normal brain of yours."

"Oh, Catherine, I'm sure you wouldn't want to know."

"So am I," she said.

"Are we done here?" he asked. "I have a head I need to beat in."

"Have you seen Warrick?" she asked. "I wanted to talk to him about this shoe we found at our crime scene."

"Not in awhile," Grissom replied. "Did you check the break room?"

"Yeah – Greg's the only one in there."

Grissom shook his head. "He does enjoy his breaks, doesn't he?"

"Greg's the best tech we've had in years, Gil. Don't you dare try to get rid of him."

"I like Greg," Grissom defended. "I was commenting more on the fact that he gets everything done far quicker than his predecessor."

Catherine shook her head. "I'm going to go find Warrick. If you see him, let me know."

"Catherine!" Brass said, entering the room. "I need you to go –"

"Never mind, Griss," Catherine said as she walked out with Brass. "I'll find Warrick later."

"Right," Grissom said, putting on a pair of goggles and picking up a golf club.

"What's he doing?" Jim asked.

Catherine shook her head. "You don't want to know."

Smiling, Grissom swung the club into the dummy's head.

"Brass won't give me a warrant!"

Grissom looked up at Warrick. "What?"

"I found a toenail in the shoe, and I need to match it to the husband's, but he won't let me!"

"Ok, slow down," Grissom said calmly. "Tell me everything."

Warrick collapsed into the chair across from where Grissom sat at his desk. "I went back to the shoe, like you told me to."

"Right."

"And, I found a toenail, which would prove that the husband put on the dead guy's shoes to knock in his own door. It proves that he wasn't just defending his family – he murdered that guy then staged it to look like he was an intruder who was threatening them."

"The dead guy was staying with them," Grissom said fairly. "The husband could have worn his shoes another time."

"He gave me a signed statement saying that he had never worn the dead guy's shoes."

Grissom nodded. "You've done well, Warrick."

"Then why won't Brass get me the warrant?"

Grissom sighed. "I don't know. But, Warrick, listen ... sometimes, we have to be patient. Sometimes, waiting is the best course of action."

Warrick jumped up out of his chair. "I want to nail this guy, Griss!"

"You want to beat Nick," Grissom said. "I know that you are tied. I know that you're both working your hundredth case right now. I know that the first one done will be our newest Level III." He paused. "I also know that I told you before not to think about your promotion. You're working a case to help the victim's family, Warrick, not to get promoted."

Warrick slammed his hands against the arms of the chair. "You're just like Brass."

"No," Grissom said calmly. "I don't have the power to get you a warrant."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to get that warrant."

Grissom looked at him suspiciously. "Be patient, Warrick," he said. "Don't do anything stupid. It will just get you into trouble."

"Right," Warrick said as he walked to the door. "I'll see you later, Griss."

Grissom shook his head as he watched him leave. He hoped the Warrick would have the sense to abide by Brass's orders.

Grissom had no idea that while he was helping Warrick, Holly had run into some trouble of her own.

"I met our new girl."

Grissom smiled at Catherine's words, even though she couldn't see it over the phone lines. "She's nice, isn't she?"

Catherine sighed. "I really hope she makes it."

"She's not quite tough as nails like you are," Grissom smiled.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Well, she didn't do so well on her own at that convenience store. I bailed her out."

"What happened?"

"Oh, that owner is a nutcase. You know that. She was threatening to shoot Holly because she didn't think she was working fast enough."

"What?" Grissom exclaimed.

"Don't worry, I handled it."

"Admirably, I'm sure."

He could hear Catherine's smile. "Well, I may have told that woman that we wouldn't be back to process her store."

"Catherine …"

"Oh, I know it's not true," she said. "Holly was pretty shaken up, though. I took her out for lunch."

"I was back here … I didn't get the call …"

"Don't worry about it. I saved your ass," Catherine teased. "And, to be brutally honest, it's probably better that I was there instead of you. She needed a good pep talk, and no offense, but I'm better at that than you."

"You know, I think that modesty is your most endearing trait," Grissom said.

Catherine quirked an eyebrow. "And sweet-talking is yours."

"Touché."

Catherine sighed. "You know, she's only here because it's what her mother wanted."

"I wondered," Grissom said. "Brass said something about her mother working in traffic."

"Yeah," Catherine replied. "Apparently, Mom has realized that she's never moving up, but she wants better things for her little girl."

Grissom sighed. "I hate when parents project their dreams onto their children."

"Anyway, I think this girl needs someone with her," Catherine said, bringing the conversation back to its point. "Not really to baby sit, but just to make sure that she's ready to stand on her own two feet."

"Brass isn't going to like this," Grissom said as he turned the corner past the supervisor's office. "He wants her gone. Anything we can do to prevent that will be –"

Shouting reached his ears. He stopped talking to listen as Brass reamed Warrick out for going to the judge on his own for a warrant. Grissom closed his eyes. Apparently, Warrick hadn't taken his advice.

"Gil? Are you still there?"

"I've got to go, Catherine. I think we've got a bit of a situation with Warrick."

She groaned. "What did he do?"

"I'll call you later."

He snapped his phone shut without waiting for a reply and stepped closer to Brass's office. Jim noticed him standing in the doorway, ready to grab Warrick once he was dismissed.

"Grissom! Have Warrick shadow Gribbs for the next three weeks or until Nicky gets his hundredth, whatever comes first."

Warrick started screaming at Brass, shaking his finger in his face. Grissom stepped in and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him out into the hallway.

Warrick came out of Brass's office, still screaming. Grissom grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. He didn't think it helped. Warrick still had steam coming out of his ears when he left with Holly.

Brass stepped out into the hall, watching them leave.

"That boy …"

"Jim, you were a bit unfair to him," Grissom said slowly. "You could have asked for the warrant when he wanted it."

"He needs to learn patience."

"You're using this whole thing just to teach him a lesson?"

"You know that he was in the wrong, Grissom."

"I think you both were," Grissom replied fairly. "But, you're the boss."

"That's right," Brass said angrily. "When you're running the unit, you can call the shots."

He stalked off, leaving Grissom alone in the hall, wondering where he had gone wrong.

"I'm not mad at you."

Holly looked at Warrick in surprise as he steered their car out of the parking lot. "I didn't think you were."

"Good," Warrick said. He sighed. "Listen, I feel like Brass got us off to a rough start. Can we take this from the top?"

"Okay," Holly said slowly.

Warrick smiled. "Hi, I'm Warrick Brown. Welcome to the graveyard shift."

Holly smiled with him. "I'm Holly Gribbs. It's nice to meet you, Warrick."

"Good. We're already off to a better start."

Holly laughed. "What can you tell me about the graveyard shift?"

"Oh, man," Warrick grinned. "Well, first of all, Griss is a genius."

"A genius?" Holly repeated incredulously.

"I know. You wouldn't think it from his office, right? He seems more of a mad scientist. But, truly, the man is crazy smart. He's great, too – the best supervisor. Catherine's cool, too. You'll like her."

"Yeah, I met her," Holly said. She paused. "She's the reason I haven't gone home yet."

Warrick nodded. "She's one tough-ass lady," he said. "Don't let her motherly persona fool you. She hasn't made it this far by being nice. But, in the end, she's the biggest supporter you'd ever want to have.

"Who else have you met?"

"Captain Brass."

"Asshole."

"Right," Holly said. "Moving on?"

"Nick's a great guy. Lots of fun. You'll love him."

"Is that it?"

"Well, there's the techs, too. Have you met Greg?"

"Is he the one with the strange hair?"

"Yeah, that's him," Warrick smiled. "Mr. Trendy."

"Right," Holly smiled.

"Honestly, he's probably the sanest tech we have right now. Some of them tend to be odd."

"I can see that."

They pulled up to the apartment complex where the robbery had occurred. Warrick put the Jeep into park.

"I'm sorry you've got to baby sit," Holly said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Warrick replied. He radioed in their arrival as Holly unbuckled her seatbelt. "Okay, go inside, dust for prints, make sure you take plenty of –"

"Photographs," she interrupted, "be thorough. Don't worry, I got the same speech from Mr. Grissom."

"Good," Warrick replied. "Look, I gotta run an errand. Will you be okay on your own?"

Holly enthusiastically agreed to work on her own, and Warrick drove off. He had no idea of what his "errand" would do both to him and to Holly.

"Warrick was right," Grissom grinned.

Catherine looked at him with wide eyes. "The toenail?"

"I just matched the suspect's clippings with the nail from the shoe."

"Wow," Catherine said. She grinned. "He said that he can always tell when they're lying."

"Apparently, he was right. I'm going to radio him to let him know, then I'm headed over to the house for the arrest. You want to come with?"

"No, that's all right," she said. "I'll let you boys handle this one."

Grissom smiled. "I think it's going to be good for you to have another woman on the team."

She gave him an appraising look. "I think I hold my own pretty well."

"Yes, dear, you do," Grissom smiled. He picked up his radio. "Warrick, come in."

It wasn't until he was standing next to Warrick at the suspect's house, watching the man being led away by the police, that Grissom remembered where Warrick was supposed to be.

"Hey, weren't you supposed to be shadowing Holly?"

"Oh, she's cool. She's doing prints on that 407. There's an officer there."

Grissom opened his mouth to tell Warrick that leaving Holly alone wasn't exactly "shadowing her," but he didn't get a chance. Warrick put his sunglasses back on and left.

Grissom shook his head. If Catherine had been right, it wasn't a good idea to leave Holly alone. He hoped that Warrick was headed back to the crime scene.