Title: The Life & Times of Sara Sidle

Rating: T

Summary: (You all know by now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters!

A/N: I am SO sorry for not updating in so long, guys! I just want you guys to know that I am not going to quit writing this fic; I love this fic, actually. I'm very proud of it, and the reason it takes me so long to write a new chapter is because I don't want to get stuck in the middle of a chapter and not know what to do, and I want to write it to the fullest of my abilities. Does that make sense? Probably not, oh well! This chapter is Sara in San Francisco the day Grissom calls her in :)

March 31, 2000- 6:14 pm- Bubba's Street Diner

"Why are we eating here?" Sara asked, looking around the building. It looked…relatively clean from what Sara could see, but…with a name like 'Bubba's Street Diner', Sara Sidle had envisioned a dirty old diner ran by two married truck-drivers who greeted their customers with chewing tobacco in their mouths and grease and oil stains on the same shirt they had worn for three days straight.

"Why does she always do this?" Quentin asked.

"Because she's nervous 'cause shift's gonna start in three hours," Jackie answered.

"Jesus, Sara, you've got to take your mind off of work every once and a while," Joe said, adding in his two cents.

"Hey!" Sara said. "Alright, first of all- I am not nervous about shift starting in three hours. Why would I be? Second of all- I do take my mind off of work; quite a bit actually."

Quentin laughed. "Jackie, she's right. She's never nervous about work; she's the best in her field."

Jackie held her hands up in the air in surrender. "Got me beat."

Joe looked over at Sara, small smile creeping around the corners of his mouth. "Aww, look, guys- we made Sara blush!"

"I am not blushing, Joe!" Sara said, playfully hitting him in the arm.

"She is! Look- she's blushing, she really is!" Joe laughed.

"Joe, shut up, the waitress is here," Jackie snapped.

"…What can I get you four?" the waitress asked. Sara could sense that the woman thought they were all a little crazy.

"Ah yes, I will have the BACH," Joe said, handing her his menu.

"The hell is that!" Quentin asked.

"Big-Ass Cheeseburger," Joe answered with a grin.

Sara just laughed. "Very creative," she told Joe, handing the waitress her menu. "I'll have just a cup of coffee, thanks."

"You have to eat something, Sara!" Jackie insisted.

"I'm fine," Sara assured her. "I'm going through these files, anyways," she told her, motioning to the folders in front of her on the table. "Food would be too messy. I can always get something out of the machine or after shift."

"Alright…" Jackie mumbled. "Then I'm getting the teriyaki chicken burger," she told the waitress, also handing in her menu.

"And I will have the triple beef burger!" Quentin said, handing the woman his menu. She nodded and walked off.

"Man, that's three slices of beef on two buns," Joe told him.

"I'm well aware of that," Quentin said.

"No wonder you're getting fat!" Jackie laughed.

Quentin feigned a look of hurt. "Ouch, Jackie; Sara did you hear what she said to me?" he asked, looking over at Sara who was currently nose-deep in a file. When she didn't respond, he asked again. "Sara?" he said a little bit louder. He rolled his eyes when she still wasn't paying attention to him.

"She's nose-deep in a forensic journal, she's not coming back to Earth anytime soon," Jackie said with a smile, sipping her drink.

"Huh?" Sara asked, finally looking up. Sara had become very good at zoning-out. After all, she had practice when she was younger, when she went to college and even when she was at home.

"So now she looks up!" Joe laughed.

"What? What's going on?" Sara asked, blinking.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," Quentin said.

"Alright," Sara shrugged, looking back down at the file.

Sara loved her job. She had finally become a crime-scene investigator, which was what she wanted to become all along. Most kids wanted to become a fireman when they were young, or a movie star. Not Sara. She wanted to become a forensic scientist; she remembered telling her grandparents that word-for-word when she was just a toddler.

But Sara didn't only love her job- she loved the people they worked with. Sure, they could drive her absolutely insane if she stayed in one room with them for too long, but they were always there for her. They were good friends, and they always kept her in a good mood (or when she wasn't in a good mood, put her in a better one). That was good enough for her, considering Sara hadn't always had a lot of friends.

After college, Sara traveled around a bit to find out exactly where she wanted to go. She eventually ended up back in California- home- and she decided San Francisco was a good place to start. She had always loved San Francisco, it had been one of her favorite places, ever since she was a little kid, and the thought of staying there and putting together the missing pieces of puzzles made her practically jump for joy.

After coming to San Francisco and getting her job, she had met up with her coworkers- Jackie Reesin, Joe Fice, and Quentin Flatts; three very different people from herself. Though they were playful by nature, none of their traits really rubbed off on Sara, though she did find herself becoming increasingly more relaxed with everyday she spent with the trio. Other than that, Sara was the same as ever- dedicated to her work, and damn good at it. Her coworkers knew where she stood among them all, though they knew she would deny every little bit of praise they gave her.

The first year of working in San Francisco was the hardest for Sara- that was for sure. To start the year off she threw up after her first autopsy (which surprised even Sara, she didn't think she was all that squeamish). Cases were difficult, which was understandable, given she was still new at this job…but some were harder more-so than others. She still remembered her first rape case- oh, how it haunted her. Sara had always known that she would be around all these sorts of things all the time with the kind of job she had, even before she started the job, but…she wasn't sure if her mind had fully registered that- until the day came where she finally had to.

February 16, 1995. That was the fateful day where she came into work and her supervisor informed her she had a four-nineteen; he never mentioned the part about the woman who had been sexually assaulted by the victim beforehand. So she had put away her things in her locker and gathered up her kit, walking out to her car and getting inside with thoughts of just another homicide. Boy was she wrong.

She still remembered the woman's face- pale except for a mottle of black and purple under her right eye and around her mouth above her chin, terrified- horrified- blue eyes. The woman's blonde hair was an absolute mess and she had been shaking like a Chihuahua when Sara had arrived at the scene and had seen her sitting in the back of an ambulance.

Sara had tried to process as best she could, but as she processed the scene and listened to the woman's story that she had told the detective on the case, she found herself in the victim's shoes; both victims. In this case it was obvious there was no motive- the guy was going to kill her if she didn't kill him; purely self-defense. But that didn't mean the case was over…at least for that poor woman it wasn't, Sara knew. She was going to have to go to court and testify…be put on the stand and be looked at jurors like some sort of caged animal. She was going to have to describe the details of her rape in words.

And Sara knew what that was like.

But Sara knew that every CSI had to deal with cases like that, she knew she would probably have to deal with a lot more of them. But…why…did they have to bring up memories…? Bad memories…? Of him…?

Well, most people who go through things like she did probably didn't go into law enforcement, where they knew they would see things like this everyday; where they knew they would see people everyday on the worst day of their lives, she figured.

But Sara wanted to help people; she wanted to help those who couldn't speak for themselves. And another victim was never just another victim. They meant so much more. They could tell Sara what happened at a crime-scene. They could've been a hero; they could've saved someone else's life. They had a name; they weren't just Vic # 1 or Vic # 2.

The sound of Sara's pager going off interrupted her thoughts. Looking up from her file, she looked around to see that everyone else at the table was finished with their food and was on their third or fourth soda.

Picking up her pager- the tiny black mechanical beeping box of which its beeping noise could be both a blessing and curse on several different occasions- a small smile formed on her lips as she read what it said.

"What's up?" Jackie asked.

"Four-nineteen," Sara said with a small smile.

"Why is she always so excited?" Joe asked with a small laugh.

"Because she likes her job," Quentin answered.

Sara smiled, not really even listening to them as she slid out of the booth they were sitting at. "Would anyone like to join me?"

"Ah, I guess…" Joe said. "I've got nothing else to do."

"Alright, I'm in," Jackie said.

"Then me, too," Quentin said. "Looks like shift started a little early tonight, eh Sara?" he asked.

Sara just nodded, putting some money on the table and walking off. For Sara at this moment the beeping of her pager had been very much indeed a gift from God. It wasn't that Sara liked crime; she liked helping people and catching bad guys. The file she was reading was actually becoming rather dull- and Jackie, Joe, and Quentin's antics could only be considered funny for so long before she lost her mind.

She felt like merrily skipping to her car, but she thought that might've been going a bit overboard.

Maybe just a bit.

Sara got in her car and beat everyone else to the crime-scene; she must've been going 10-20 miles above the speed limit in her haste. The second she arrived at the crime-scene she had her kit in-hand, ready to go (the detective thought she actually might jump out of the moving vehicle, she looked so anxious). After parking and walking rather quickly up to the scene, ducking under the tape, she looked over at the detective with a smile on her face.

"You look happy, Sidle," the detective commented.

"A new case always gets the adrenaline pumping, Detective Silkwood," she said with a small smile. "I like catching bad guys."

"Alright, well…body's over there," he said, pointing ahead of him. "Some guy passing by on his bike called it in."

"Have the coroners come yet?" Sara asked.

"Not yet, they're on their way," he answered.

Sara nodded and walked over to the body, kneeling down beside it. It was limp, but yet again, what dead corpse weren't these days? The victim looked to be a young woman of about 20, from what Sara could see, and this person was laying face-down on the pavement. Something looked a bit strange, though- there was no puddle of blood, no tire treads, no shell casings…

Sara put her kit down and walked around to the other side of the body. Careful not to touch it, she must've looked like a tiger about to pounce on its prey, crawling around on all fours with her upper body practically lying on the ground to get a better look. Sara crawled over to the body and looked at the face. For a second her mind didn't fully register what she was looking at it, but when it did she just started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Hugh, a member from the county coroner's office asked as he walked over to Sara with his equipment in his arms.

"Don't bother checking for liver temp, Hugh," Sara said, trying not to start laughing again.

"Oh? Why is that?" Hugh asked.

"This isn't a real body," Sara answered with a grin, looking down at the figure lying on the ground.

Hugh looked at her strange. "Don't fool with me, Sara. If it's not a real body than what is it?"

Sara rolled her eyes and tipped it over with her foot. The second Hugh saw it he dropped his kit on the ground. Sara just started to laugh even harder.

"Oh my god!" came Jackie's voice as she sprinted over. "What's going on? Sara never laughs at crime-scenes, so she's on drugs, I've died and gone to Heaven, or this is something really, genuinely funny!"

"Yeah, what's going on?" Joe and Quentin both asked, not quite in unison. But close.

"Is…that what I think it is?" Hugh asked, motioning toward the figure on the ground and looking up at Sara.

Sara laughed. "Yes, I believe it is."

"Whoa!" Joe said, screeching to a halt once he got a glimpse of it. "I never thought I'd have to see one of those again!"

Everyone looked at Joe.

"I got one for my cousin as a joke, y'know? He's always joking about that kinda stuff, I thought it'd be funny," Joe shrugged."

Quentin raised a brow. "What exactly is it…?"

"It's one of those blow-up dolls, you know…" Jackie said, nudging him with her elbow. "It's called PlayTime Sally."

Sara just started laughing harder. "Obviously someone had had enough playtime with Sally."

After everyone laughed, Jackie looked over at Joe. "Which cousin is this…? Because I know your cousins…"

"He lives in Arizona, you've never met this one before," Joe told her.

"Oh really?" Jackie asked with a grin.

"Yes!" Joe said.

Quentin just laughed. "Come on man, she's just giving you a hard time."

"No I'm not!" Jackie said. "Come on, tell me! I need a name!"

Sara was about to join in on the conversation when her cell phone rang. Thinking it was her supervisor, she answered with her automatic phone greet; it was almost robotic. "Sidle."

"Hey Sara."

Sara froze when she recognized whose voice this was.

"…Grissom?" she asked.