Summary: After viewing a horrific accident, Sara makes some hard decisions about her life. Obviously, a Sara-centered story, but with lots of friendship and a little bit of G/S at the end.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. The chapter titles are opening lines from Emily Dickinson poems.
Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 5 - Look back on time with kindly eyes
All things considered, the news conference went surprisingly well. For all her animosity towards the press, Sara retained her professionalism. Not only would it reflect poorly on the lab for her to show her personal disgust, but the sheriff's office needed to maintain a working relationship with the local media.
A bank of microphones had been set up in a courtyard behind the building. The media was strictly limited to that area so Sara could enter the lab unmolested. Sheriff Mobley made it clear there would be no tolerance for a repeat of the scene that happened that morning. Grissom, Catherine, lab director Carvallo and Warrick stood beside Sara to offer support. A number of lab techs and police officers stood nearby.
Mobley started the conference with a run-down of the known facts: eight children and both drivers had been killed during the crash; five children were still in the hospital and were all expected to recover completely; initial analysis showed the truck driver had been speeding, but it was unclear what role that played in the accident; the driver did have a record for drunk driving, but his last arrest had been more than nine years ago and according to friends and family he had been sober for more than five years; both the bus and truck had passed safety inspections recently.
The sheriff went on to explain the awards which would be presented to Sara during a ceremony to be held in the Renoir Ballroom at Bellagio's on Friday morning. Additional questions could be asked at that time.
Next, Sara gave a brief statement as to what had happened. She made sure to emphasize the fact the fire had not reached the bus while she was onboard and to point out a number of bystanders had also helped with the rescue. Mobley picked reporters to ask questions, keeping a close eye on Sara making sure she wasn't overwhelmed. Grissom moved in to stand behind her.
True to her predictions, the initial questions dealt with how it felt. She kept her answers short but polite: her sympathies went out to the families of those lost and injured and asked that their privacy be respected. She hoped she'd never be faced with a similar situation, but if she were, she'd repeat her actions.
Questions moved to more personal matters: marital status, how long had she been in Las Vegas, where did she work before, did she have children.
It was Lynda Darby, a reporter from the Las Vegas Tribune, who addressed the first question away from Sara. "Dr. Grissom, you brought Ms. Sidle in from San Francisco to investigate the shooting and subsequent death of another CSI, Holly Gribbs. How did you know Ms. Sidle and why did you select her?"
Grissom remained silent for a moment collecting his thoughts. He hadn't expected any questions to be directed towards him.
"I first met Sara a number of years earlier at a week-long seminar I was teaching. Then about three months later, I was called in by the San Francisco Police Department to consult on an abduction and murder. Sara was one of the CSIs working that case. I was struck on both occasions by her intellect, professionalism and dedication to the job. We became friends and maintained contact over the years. When Holly was shot, I knew it was important to bring in someone who had no personal involvement, who could handle the case with discretion and work unsupervised. Sara accepted my request and luckily for the lab she decided to take a permanent position here."
Sara blushed. Grissom rarely gave compliments and to receive such a glowing one at a press conference was surprising. Warrick and Catherine grinned at their friend's obvious embarrassment.
"Ms. Sidle, is it true you're the lab's top CSI?"
"What?"
Carvallo stepped forward. "CSI Sidle has held the top solve-rate in the lab for more than nineteen months," he said. Sara blushed again. She never knew that.
"You're the lab's expert in materials analysis, correct?"
"I wouldn't say expert, but it's what I studied in graduate school."
"Where? And in what?" Sara bit her lip from pointing out the obvious: she had just said she studied materials analysis.
"I was a doctoral candidate at the Kavli Institute for Theoretical Physics at the University of California, Santa Barbara," she said, spelling out the name. She expected half to get it wrong anyway. "I was with the Center for Polymers and Organic Solids."
"Where did you go to school before that?"
"I received my bachelor's degree in physics from Harvard."
That caused a commotion in the crowd. No one recognized the Kavli Institute, but everyone was familiar with Harvard. They knew she was brave and beautiful; now they could add brains to the list.
"How did you get started in forensics?"
"While in grad school. The Los Angeles Police Department had a murder case which was giving them trouble. They had some materials which their labs were having trouble analyzing and they asked the university to help. I was one of the scientists who worked on the case. I found I enjoyed the challenge the job offered."
"Did you finish your doctorate?"
"No."
Grissom gave Mobley a subtle glance. It was a gesture they had worked out in advance if the questions started making her uneasy. He knew this was a subject she didn't like to talk about.
Sara never told him why she had dropped out of school. He had asked her years ago, when they had first met, but all she would say was that it involved a personal incident. At the time, he didn't know her well, and didn't think much about it.
In all the years since, he had never brought it up again. Looking back on it, Grissom began to wonder what could have happened that would cause Sara to drop out. Quitting was not in her character. Maybe he should ask her again some time.
"Why? Will you go back?"
Grissom discreetly placed a reassuring hand on her back, giving a gentle rub. She relaxed at his touch. The move wasn't missed by Catherine who had quietly moved in closer to Sara as well. She could see that the younger woman had tensed.
Mobley had also detected the move.
"There's no simple reason why I left," she said after a minute. "Let's just say that at the time I found the practical applications more interesting than the academic. Will I finish? Maybe, some day."
Grissom was surprised; she had never mentioned an interest in finishing her degree. Another thing he hadn't known about her.
"Will you be accepting any Hollywood offers or book deals?"
"No. I find the idea of profiting off of another's loss to be personally reprehensible."
After a few more inane questions, Mobley stepped forward, thanking the press. Sara had performed beautifully up to that point, but the time had come to end this. He could see the strain forming in her posture.
~~~~~~~~~~
Reaching Grissom's office, Sara dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"You handled that very well, Sara."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Were you expecting me to blow up?"
"No, but I don't think anyone would have blamed you if you did," he said.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I'm a little stressed right now," she said, holding her arms far apart as she said 'little'. Grissom chuckled and Sara gave him a grin.
"That's understandable, Sara. Have you called Philip yet?"
"No. I will, Grissom, don't worry. I know I have to get my head shrunk. Just didn't have time today between playing hide-and-seek and twenty questions."
"Okay," he said giving her a smile. "That case you mentioned for the Los Angeles police. Was that the West Hollywood Ripper?"
"Yeah. You know that case?"
"Sara, it was one of the biggest cases around. No one could figure out what could have caused those materials to melt the way they did," he said proudly. "Until they asked you, apparently."
She gave a short snort of laughter. "Oh, please! Griss, I was so far down on the list of people that worked that case it's not funny. Thanks, by the way, for the compliments." She gave him a shy smile.
"Just telling the truth."
And he was.
To say that Sara had impressed him at that seminar would be an understatement. She had blown him away.
It was a week-long series for beginning crime scene investigators. Each morning, the students would be presented a package of information from an already solved case. They were given several hours to research the materials, then they presented their initial assessments. After lunch, Grissom would tell them everything they had done wrong.
That year, he started the series with a death-by-radio tower. Marcus Bronson was an eccentric who ran his own AM radio station, which he used to badger anyone and anything that caught his attention. One day, his broadcast suddenly went off the air and when the police arrived they found the tower had crashed into the building which doubled as Bronson's house and station.
Included in the package of information was a list of suspects, including one Buddy LeBleu, a local developer with a shady past, violent temper and a frequent subject of Bronson's rants. He had threatened to kill the radio operator earlier the day of his death and had been found with a set of industrial cable cutters in his truck.
As he expected, all the students quickly put the pieces together: LeBleu had cut the guy-wires to the tower, causing it to sway in the wind. The weakened structure then collapsed.
All the students except Sara.
She maintained the collapse and Bronson's death had been an accident. Her interpretation of the situation was a bizarre combination of poor structure design, improper grounding and electrical buildup. It was so strange that the other students openly mocked the pseudo-hippie from San Francisco.
Despite the criticisms directed her way, Sara stood up for her theory. Breaking for lunch, Grissom approached Sara to ask her how she had reached her conclusions. She was wary, but willing to explain. He spent the lunch hour pointing out reasons why LeBleu as a murder suspect would make more sense. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't sway the brunette away from her theory.
Grissom started the afternoon session by asking anyone if they had changed their theories. When no one volunteered, he pointedly asked Sara if she was going to change her mind. She said no firmly, bringing another round of derisive laughter. Grissom stopped it by telling everyone Sara was correct.
Each year he liked to start the series with a case that had an obvious solution which also happened to be wrong. Too often investigators would find a solution too easily and overlook the rest of the evidence.
Sara was the first student who hadn't fallen for the trap. Not only that, she had correctly pieced together a truly odd collection of clues to solve the bizarre case. He was so impressed, he had her direct the afternoon session, showing how she reached her conclusion.
He was hooked.
She continued to impress him the rest of the week. He made a point of eating lunch with her each day to grill her on her assessments. Other students gathered around, recognizing a unique learning opportunity. The two worked on the same wave length. She easily saw through his attempts at misdirection and he challenged her to see the evidence in new ways.
Three months later he was pleasantly surprised to be working with her again. She was embarrassed and flattered that he remembered her.
As if he could have forgotten her.
They formed a quick friendship as they worked the case. They maintained it over the years, occasionally meeting at seminars and conferences. If one found an interesting article, worked an especially intriguing case or just wanted to chat an e-mail exchange would begin.
Looking into the tired eyes of the woman before him he was sad to realize that they had communicated more when they were apart than they did now. Oh, they talked at work, but it was professional. Before it had been friendly.
"What?"
Sara's question broke his train of thought.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Good thoughts or bad thoughts?" Sara asked with a grin.
"Both," was his only response.
Rating: R for subject matter
A/N: No real spoilers. The chapter titles are opening lines from Emily Dickinson poems.
Thanks to Burked and all the others who previewed this for me.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own anything related to CSI. If I did, I'd be on a tropical beach right now.
Chapter 5 - Look back on time with kindly eyes
All things considered, the news conference went surprisingly well. For all her animosity towards the press, Sara retained her professionalism. Not only would it reflect poorly on the lab for her to show her personal disgust, but the sheriff's office needed to maintain a working relationship with the local media.
A bank of microphones had been set up in a courtyard behind the building. The media was strictly limited to that area so Sara could enter the lab unmolested. Sheriff Mobley made it clear there would be no tolerance for a repeat of the scene that happened that morning. Grissom, Catherine, lab director Carvallo and Warrick stood beside Sara to offer support. A number of lab techs and police officers stood nearby.
Mobley started the conference with a run-down of the known facts: eight children and both drivers had been killed during the crash; five children were still in the hospital and were all expected to recover completely; initial analysis showed the truck driver had been speeding, but it was unclear what role that played in the accident; the driver did have a record for drunk driving, but his last arrest had been more than nine years ago and according to friends and family he had been sober for more than five years; both the bus and truck had passed safety inspections recently.
The sheriff went on to explain the awards which would be presented to Sara during a ceremony to be held in the Renoir Ballroom at Bellagio's on Friday morning. Additional questions could be asked at that time.
Next, Sara gave a brief statement as to what had happened. She made sure to emphasize the fact the fire had not reached the bus while she was onboard and to point out a number of bystanders had also helped with the rescue. Mobley picked reporters to ask questions, keeping a close eye on Sara making sure she wasn't overwhelmed. Grissom moved in to stand behind her.
True to her predictions, the initial questions dealt with how it felt. She kept her answers short but polite: her sympathies went out to the families of those lost and injured and asked that their privacy be respected. She hoped she'd never be faced with a similar situation, but if she were, she'd repeat her actions.
Questions moved to more personal matters: marital status, how long had she been in Las Vegas, where did she work before, did she have children.
It was Lynda Darby, a reporter from the Las Vegas Tribune, who addressed the first question away from Sara. "Dr. Grissom, you brought Ms. Sidle in from San Francisco to investigate the shooting and subsequent death of another CSI, Holly Gribbs. How did you know Ms. Sidle and why did you select her?"
Grissom remained silent for a moment collecting his thoughts. He hadn't expected any questions to be directed towards him.
"I first met Sara a number of years earlier at a week-long seminar I was teaching. Then about three months later, I was called in by the San Francisco Police Department to consult on an abduction and murder. Sara was one of the CSIs working that case. I was struck on both occasions by her intellect, professionalism and dedication to the job. We became friends and maintained contact over the years. When Holly was shot, I knew it was important to bring in someone who had no personal involvement, who could handle the case with discretion and work unsupervised. Sara accepted my request and luckily for the lab she decided to take a permanent position here."
Sara blushed. Grissom rarely gave compliments and to receive such a glowing one at a press conference was surprising. Warrick and Catherine grinned at their friend's obvious embarrassment.
"Ms. Sidle, is it true you're the lab's top CSI?"
"What?"
Carvallo stepped forward. "CSI Sidle has held the top solve-rate in the lab for more than nineteen months," he said. Sara blushed again. She never knew that.
"You're the lab's expert in materials analysis, correct?"
"I wouldn't say expert, but it's what I studied in graduate school."
"Where? And in what?" Sara bit her lip from pointing out the obvious: she had just said she studied materials analysis.
"I was a doctoral candidate at the Kavli Institute for Theoretical Physics at the University of California, Santa Barbara," she said, spelling out the name. She expected half to get it wrong anyway. "I was with the Center for Polymers and Organic Solids."
"Where did you go to school before that?"
"I received my bachelor's degree in physics from Harvard."
That caused a commotion in the crowd. No one recognized the Kavli Institute, but everyone was familiar with Harvard. They knew she was brave and beautiful; now they could add brains to the list.
"How did you get started in forensics?"
"While in grad school. The Los Angeles Police Department had a murder case which was giving them trouble. They had some materials which their labs were having trouble analyzing and they asked the university to help. I was one of the scientists who worked on the case. I found I enjoyed the challenge the job offered."
"Did you finish your doctorate?"
"No."
Grissom gave Mobley a subtle glance. It was a gesture they had worked out in advance if the questions started making her uneasy. He knew this was a subject she didn't like to talk about.
Sara never told him why she had dropped out of school. He had asked her years ago, when they had first met, but all she would say was that it involved a personal incident. At the time, he didn't know her well, and didn't think much about it.
In all the years since, he had never brought it up again. Looking back on it, Grissom began to wonder what could have happened that would cause Sara to drop out. Quitting was not in her character. Maybe he should ask her again some time.
"Why? Will you go back?"
Grissom discreetly placed a reassuring hand on her back, giving a gentle rub. She relaxed at his touch. The move wasn't missed by Catherine who had quietly moved in closer to Sara as well. She could see that the younger woman had tensed.
Mobley had also detected the move.
"There's no simple reason why I left," she said after a minute. "Let's just say that at the time I found the practical applications more interesting than the academic. Will I finish? Maybe, some day."
Grissom was surprised; she had never mentioned an interest in finishing her degree. Another thing he hadn't known about her.
"Will you be accepting any Hollywood offers or book deals?"
"No. I find the idea of profiting off of another's loss to be personally reprehensible."
After a few more inane questions, Mobley stepped forward, thanking the press. Sara had performed beautifully up to that point, but the time had come to end this. He could see the strain forming in her posture.
~~~~~~~~~~
Reaching Grissom's office, Sara dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"You handled that very well, Sara."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Were you expecting me to blow up?"
"No, but I don't think anyone would have blamed you if you did," he said.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I'm a little stressed right now," she said, holding her arms far apart as she said 'little'. Grissom chuckled and Sara gave him a grin.
"That's understandable, Sara. Have you called Philip yet?"
"No. I will, Grissom, don't worry. I know I have to get my head shrunk. Just didn't have time today between playing hide-and-seek and twenty questions."
"Okay," he said giving her a smile. "That case you mentioned for the Los Angeles police. Was that the West Hollywood Ripper?"
"Yeah. You know that case?"
"Sara, it was one of the biggest cases around. No one could figure out what could have caused those materials to melt the way they did," he said proudly. "Until they asked you, apparently."
She gave a short snort of laughter. "Oh, please! Griss, I was so far down on the list of people that worked that case it's not funny. Thanks, by the way, for the compliments." She gave him a shy smile.
"Just telling the truth."
And he was.
To say that Sara had impressed him at that seminar would be an understatement. She had blown him away.
It was a week-long series for beginning crime scene investigators. Each morning, the students would be presented a package of information from an already solved case. They were given several hours to research the materials, then they presented their initial assessments. After lunch, Grissom would tell them everything they had done wrong.
That year, he started the series with a death-by-radio tower. Marcus Bronson was an eccentric who ran his own AM radio station, which he used to badger anyone and anything that caught his attention. One day, his broadcast suddenly went off the air and when the police arrived they found the tower had crashed into the building which doubled as Bronson's house and station.
Included in the package of information was a list of suspects, including one Buddy LeBleu, a local developer with a shady past, violent temper and a frequent subject of Bronson's rants. He had threatened to kill the radio operator earlier the day of his death and had been found with a set of industrial cable cutters in his truck.
As he expected, all the students quickly put the pieces together: LeBleu had cut the guy-wires to the tower, causing it to sway in the wind. The weakened structure then collapsed.
All the students except Sara.
She maintained the collapse and Bronson's death had been an accident. Her interpretation of the situation was a bizarre combination of poor structure design, improper grounding and electrical buildup. It was so strange that the other students openly mocked the pseudo-hippie from San Francisco.
Despite the criticisms directed her way, Sara stood up for her theory. Breaking for lunch, Grissom approached Sara to ask her how she had reached her conclusions. She was wary, but willing to explain. He spent the lunch hour pointing out reasons why LeBleu as a murder suspect would make more sense. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't sway the brunette away from her theory.
Grissom started the afternoon session by asking anyone if they had changed their theories. When no one volunteered, he pointedly asked Sara if she was going to change her mind. She said no firmly, bringing another round of derisive laughter. Grissom stopped it by telling everyone Sara was correct.
Each year he liked to start the series with a case that had an obvious solution which also happened to be wrong. Too often investigators would find a solution too easily and overlook the rest of the evidence.
Sara was the first student who hadn't fallen for the trap. Not only that, she had correctly pieced together a truly odd collection of clues to solve the bizarre case. He was so impressed, he had her direct the afternoon session, showing how she reached her conclusion.
He was hooked.
She continued to impress him the rest of the week. He made a point of eating lunch with her each day to grill her on her assessments. Other students gathered around, recognizing a unique learning opportunity. The two worked on the same wave length. She easily saw through his attempts at misdirection and he challenged her to see the evidence in new ways.
Three months later he was pleasantly surprised to be working with her again. She was embarrassed and flattered that he remembered her.
As if he could have forgotten her.
They formed a quick friendship as they worked the case. They maintained it over the years, occasionally meeting at seminars and conferences. If one found an interesting article, worked an especially intriguing case or just wanted to chat an e-mail exchange would begin.
Looking into the tired eyes of the woman before him he was sad to realize that they had communicated more when they were apart than they did now. Oh, they talked at work, but it was professional. Before it had been friendly.
"What?"
Sara's question broke his train of thought.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Good thoughts or bad thoughts?" Sara asked with a grin.
"Both," was his only response.