Leslie's A/N: All I have to say is... bring onnnnn the angst! Mahahah!
Sara Sidle found one thing singularly amusing when turning over her newfound plan in her head: When she informed her supervisor that she was switching to days, he wouldn't be able to use some veiled excuse to get her to stay with him. Excuses, another thing that she'd put in her past, she decided, and added it to the mental list of things she'd chosen to leave behind.
So far, she had: the night, dark clothing, and Grissom. They were all neatly listed, underlined in red pen, patiently waiting at the back of her mind.
The decision to switch to days had been easy to come by. She and Sam had both agreed to discuss is with their supervisors the next shift and Sam had gotten her the necessary papers. It had been three days since she had posed the idea to Sam and finally it was time to actually go through with it.
They traded information and agreed to meet up for coffee in a few days after things had settled. Sam had assured her that things would go smoothly. Apparently, Peter was eager to work with her. He'd had wonderful things to say about her, Sam had mentioned earlier on the phone, and seemed thrilled at the prospect of working with her. That made this whole debacle all the more karmic.
Karmic... karma...
"The lab needs you here." She could just picture him fumbling over the words again, thinking quickly, wondering if he was giving too much of himself away in one sentence. The thought nearly spurred a smile to appear on her thin lips. No, there was time for smiling later, after she'd finished all of this required paperwork.
But again, "The lab needs you here." She saw him saying it to her, over and over, so very clearly. Just as clearly, she envisioned herself retaliating, brash words spilling from her lips. "I know the lab needs me here, Grissom, that's why I'm not leaving the lab." She'd be clipped and confident, omitting the 'bastard' she felt like directing towards him. 'Not leaving the lab, but sure as hell leaving you.'
'Enough about Gil Grissom,' she reasoned solidly and took a long pull on her beer. Her fingers wrapped around the pen with renewed force and she trained her eyes on the next question. Blue, the pen was blue, much like his eyes...
'Past promotions,' 'previous solve rate,' 'last qualification score;' they all flew by, facts filled in by her nearly illegible chicken scratch.
She felt that this change would be more cathartic than moving miles away. Sara had never really wanted to leave the Vegas lab in the first place. It was exceptional in many aspects and she'd made close friends there. Close friends weren't something she came by easily, and she was glad she could hold onto Nick and Greg and Warrick while still having a change of scenery.
Cliches swam in her head like tiny adversaries, little jackhammers pounding away at her newfound wall of resolve. 'Distance makes the heart grow fonder...' Luckily, she truly doubted that would happen. But then again, hadn't it happened before? Didn't she come to Vegas to see just how fond her heart had grown? Sara pondered how long it would take for the longstanding clench over her heart to subside, allowing her to live life a little freer.
Even when faced with the facts she'd been unable to let go. You don't choose who you fall in love with and Sara knew that all too well. She decided that she would be the master of falling out of love and her soon-to-be newfound position at the lab would help to spur that. She was sure of it... she would make sure of it.
Forgetting would have to begin now, she decided, and swept her unruly mess into a little pile of papers, neat and orderly. A nice little metaphor for her new life.
She wondered how long it would take her to become accustomed to using the past tense when referring to her time on nightshift. Not 'work with' but 'worked with.' The thought of the new use of -ed made her slightly uneasy but she moved past it with determination and finished filling out the obligatory paperwork.
Night shift would like Sam. He was gentle, intelligent and dedicated. Dedicated to a point that they wouldn't miss her constant presence. Truly, the change would be beneficial to everyone. She wouldn't have to see Sofia anymore, a bonus for her because Sofia was just another Catherine and she knew in the long run they'd never get along. And Grissom... well Sara was sure he would be happy that she was simply... somewhere else.
Everything would be so much easier for everyone.
Something inside her gave way and she felt lighter, slightly more whole. Static wasn't a word she liked anymore, and she was relieved that she was truly making progress.
And when she washed her face that evening, she felt as if she were doing away with all of the ambiguous and stressful grit that she'd allowed to build up over the years. It felt utterly fantastic. When she looked in the mirror she was encountered with a newer, fresher face. A face that was invigorated, the face of a person who'd just stumbled across a new supply of purpose and was ready to use it.
She set her alarm clock with a vague feeling of excitement. It would be exciting, she promised herself. Not only would the look on her soon-to-be ex-supervisor's face satisfy her in unimaginable ways, she'd get to rise blindly to start a brand new, fresh day. A new life of sorts. It felt amazing to be able to embrace something again.
This was going to be so much simpler.
Fresh pajamas in place, Sara made her way to the bedroom and thought of now being able to say 'good night' when she went to sleep as opposed to the utterly awkward 'good morning.' But she said good morning to Vegas one last time and crawled into her bed.
Sara would no longer have to wake in the night and amble off to face the emotionally draining vampire that was Gil Grissom.
Yes, this was going to be so much easier, so amazingly simple. But as Sara Sidle slipped to sleep, she wondered why she kept having to reiterate that point and why still continued to feel so incredibly torn.