Disclaimer in part one.
Whew! It's been a while, but between swim team, calculus, lit, and Homecoming it's been a veddy veddy busy two weeks! Also, when CSI premiered last week—I realized that, since I started writing this story around Nesting Dolls, and a lot of stuff had happened since then, like Nick's burial and the team's getting back together, my timeline was really weird. So, I spent a couple of days rewriting stuff so that it would fit in both the CSI world and My CSI world. A rough sketch: the story started in the July after Nick's May burial. The school year started in August, and Nick and Sara got together in mid-September. It's now mid-October. The team is together, and Sofia is a detective. Enjoy! And, as always, review!
"Sara. Come in. It's nice to have you back." Grissom sat up a little straighter, neatened the myriad papers on his desk, and adjusted his glasses. He moved the Ramen noodles container he'd been eating out of onto a filing cabinet. "How—was the funeral?"
It was Tuesday night, about fifteen minutes before Sara's first shift back was to start. She was dead tired; she'd grown too used to a normal schedule. The day had been full, too; visits to Margaret, a call to the school, a visit from Meredith, Grace and Greg had gone grocery shopping. Nick had called, at about eight AM, saying that he and Grissom were tied up over a case, an apparent housewife murder. "It went as well as could be expected." She said sadly. "The girls handled it really well. I was proud of them."
"That's very nice." Grissom said, feeling a little lame. "I hope everything will work out."
"It will, eventually. Nick said you wanted to talk to me?" Sara drooped into a chair.
"Yes. I do." He said. "Sara—this is a tough situation you're in. You're in charge of two teenagers on the exact opposite schedule that you're on. So, I talked to Ecklie—if you'd like, you can transfer to Days, no waiting for an opening on their shift."
"Oh. Wow." Sara was slightly taken aback. "With Denny, and Denise Nichols, and Chelsea Wassherface?" she clarified. "Is Mike Harper still supervisor?"
Grissom nodded. "It's completely up to you." He said graciously. "I know there are probably several things to consider."
"Yeah. Alright. Thanks. Can I give you an answer tomorrow?"
Grissom nodded briskly. "Of course. Shift's about to start. There's nothing in yet, but Catherine has some stuff from a homicide three nights ago if you'd like to go help her. She's mostly done, I think—some wrapping up. I have something to finish up."
Sara's head swam as she walked down to the break room. On one hand, sleeping at the same time the girls slept, being in the house at night so they (and she) would feel safer, being able to do things with them in the evenings—these were all good things; good reasons to take the transfer gratefully. Her current schedule was disruptive and sometimes confusing.
But…she was feeling selfish. She liked night shift, she was finally back on a shift with Warrick and she and Catherine were working together well enough, she liked Grissom and Greg and the lab techs like Jacqui and Archie and even Hodges—bless his snarky ass. And, if she switched to Days, she would never see Nick. She wanted to see Nick. She was interested in pursuing whatever the hell they had going on. She was actually interested in trying to support her half of a stable, adult relationship, to try and get emotionally invested in it, and she thought this milestone was something important enough to be selfish over. Though their lives were often flip-flopped from any normal person's schedule, it worked for them. Certainly better than if she switched to Days. She didn't know the people from Days well, but there was always an underlying competition, something that didn't click between the two groups.
Catherine was sitting at the chipped table in the break room, going over reports and photos with a blue highlighter. Her cell phone and pager were thrown haphazardly next to all her papers.
"Hey, Catherine," Sara said, crossing to the coffee machine. "Have you seen Greg?"
"No, not for a while. How was the funeral?" Catherine sipped her own coffee and didn't look up.
Sara sighed. She was sick of the question. "As good as it could have been. Catherine," she questioned, "how did—do, I guess—you handle having Lindsay and these hours?"
Catherine set her coffee cup down. "Grissom talk to you?" she asked casually.
"Yeah." Sara poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. "It's just…I guess…I don't know what the right choice is. I don't want to switch shifts. I don't know if there is a right choice. So…what do you do? How was it working these hours?"
"Well," Catherine said. "First off, Lindsey's still only thirteen, only an eighth-grader. Jules and Grace—they're much older. Four years doesn't seem like a lot, but it really is. There's a sophistication, a self-confidence, I guess, or something. Lindsay will get there, off course." Catherine started to veer and Sara nodded. "Secondly, most of the time when I was working late nights and trying to get started, Lindsey was much younger. Also, we weren't very well off for quite a while. I didn't have too many options. It's…not really the same thing."
"But, it is." Sara said earnestly. "The girls… they're really so young right now. I'm sort of leaning towards them needing me all the time."
Catherine waved a hand. "I haven't met them. Trust your gut. I learned that the first time Lindsey was sick, really sick, as a baby. Trust your gut. Being a parent—a guardian—it's the exact opposite of being a CSI. I'm sorry I can't really be of any more help."
"Thanks. Do you need help?"
Catherine shook her head and waved her off. "I've got everything covered. Warrick assisted, it was pretty routine. By the way," she looked up before returning to her papers, "what you're doing—it's really brave of you. Teenagers really suck. And—with their mother, and everything—you're doing something great here. But, God, it will get tough." Catherine stood. "I've got to go meet Warrick in Layout, I'll see you around."
"Thanks, Cath." Sara said, peering down into the near-empty swill of her coffee cup.