A/N: Thanks again for following my story! I really do thank you for reading, and even more for reviewing – I love to read what you think!

I don't own CSI.


The Career Shift

"Grissom, do you have a minute?"

Grissom looked up from the lay out table to see Catherine standing in the doorway. A young man hovered behind her. "Sure."

Catherine smiled and stepped fully into the room, bringing her shadow with her. "Gil Grissom, I'd like you to meet Greg Sanders, our new DNA tech."

"Hi," Greg said with a wide smile.

"Hello," Grissom replied. "Welcome to CSI." He looked at Catherine quizzically. "Why are you showing him around?"

"Brass's orders. He wants him to meet everyone on night shift, since he'll be working with us," she said. "Have you seen Nick and Warrick? They still need to meet Greg."

"They were headed to the garage to process our vic's car," Grissom said.

"Okay, we'll go there, then. Thanks, Grissom."

"You're welcome."

"It was nice meeting you," Greg said.

"You, too," Grissom replied. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Greg said, looking at Catherine a bit nervously.

She smiled. "Don't let him scare you," she said as they headed for the door. "He's making it sound worse than it is." She winked at Grissom. "He's probably the toughest one here, but I've worked with him for years, and I have yet to see him actually hurt another person."

Greg gave her a look that said that her words had done little to make him feel better. "Right," he said slowly.

"Come on," she said, winking at Grissom again.

Catherine led Greg out of the room, and Grissom turned back to the pictures he had spread out across the table. He studied them with a practiced eye, making connections between the various points of the case. Nick and Warrick should be present for this. They needed to learn to make these connections. He should have insisted that they stay with him until they had finished with the pictures. He shouldn't have let them go to the garage alone, regardless of how eager they were to get to work on the car.

Then again, they needed the chance to prove themselves. They needed the opportunity to work without him or Catherine or Brass watching their every move. He had been a part of the training process of enough CSIs to know that a good mentor let his students fly on their own. It was the only way they could truly learn to stand on their own, to make their own decisions, and to work their own cases.

He hoped that Sara would have a mentor with that sort of mental attitude. She, too, needed the benefit of working with someone who had enough years of experience to be a good teacher. He knew that she had all the characteristics of a good criminalist. With the proper training, he knew that she would become a great CSI.

If she became a CSI. She still hadn't told him for sure that she was going to pursue the job in San Francisco. Every time he received a new email from her, he hoped to read the news of her decision one way or the other, but thus far, he had been disappointed.

That "disappointment" was finding its way into his inbox more and more frequently. During the few months since he had returned to Las Vegas, he and Sara had reached the point of emailing each other once a day. He knew that Catherine would be upset if she knew how much he emailed Sara. She had not said a word about her after warning him to be careful with her, but Catherine never forgot anything – including bits of advice dispensed to her socially backward colleague. She would undoubtedly take such frequent emails as a sign of a blossoming romance.

But, in Grissom's eyes it could not be further from a romance. Sara was a student who needed his assistance, a friend who needed his guidance, a potential mentee in search of a mentor, but she was not a romantic interest. All he desired from her was friendship and professional camaraderie.

He was sure that she wanted the same things from their relationship. What more could she possibly want?


Sara never forgot that Monday evening in late November. It was one of the days that would stand out in her mind as a turning point, a time of great clarity about the future. The day started out normally enough, leaving few clues to what the evening held. She had no idea when she left her apartment that morning that her entire world was on the verge of a massive shift.

She attended classes, labs and study sessions as usual. As was their Monday and Wednesday tradition, she, Mary and Tom went to dinner at the conclusion of their evening classes. After dinner, Tom walked the girls back to their apartment. He declined their invitation to come in, but kissed Mary good night and left them at their door. Mary turned to Sara with a glowing smile.

"Come on, let's go inside."

Sara nodded and unlocked the door. As soon as they were both inside, Mary squealed.

"Oh, Sara, thank you so much for introducing us!"

Sara grinned. "What can I say? I bring people together."

"I'm being serious," Mary said. "Sara, I truly think I'm falling in love with him."

Sara's eyes rounded as a thousand emotions – including happiness, fear, anger and jealousy – coursed through her. "What?"

Mary nodded. "Truly. I'm not just infatuated – this is much more. It's deeper. I think … I really do think I'm falling in love."

The emotions squeezing around her heart intensified. For some inexplicable reason, tears filled her eyes. "Oh," was all she could manage.

"Sara?" Mary said, stepping closer. "Are you all right?"

Without warning, Sara began to sob. Mary was there in an instant, pulling her into a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry," Sara choked out. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I don't know why I'm crying …"

"Just cry," Mary said, feeling tears fill her own eyes.

Trying to laugh it off, Sara brushed at her cheeks, trying to stem the flow of tears. "I'm sorry," she said again, this time in a much more controlled voice. "I don't know what happened to me."

"It's emotional," Mary said, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Sara gave her a shaky smile. "Look, whatever weird emotion it is that's making me cry, it doesn't change the fact that I'm incredibly happy for you – and for Tom. You've been my best friend for years, and Tom is great … I know you two will be happy together."

"Okay, don't go all wedding on me yet," Mary smiled. "I don't know how he feels about me. I could be falling for someone who just wants sex."

Sara shook her head. "Tom's not that type of guy. If he's sleeping with you, it's because he has real, deep feelings for you."

Mary's eyes began to shine again. "Do you really think so?"

"Mary. This is the man who walks me home after class because he can't let a girl walk across campus alone. He's a true gentleman – in every sense of the word."

"I can think of a few ways he's not completely gentlemanly," Mary said, her eyes sparkling.

Sara threw her hands up over her ears. "No!" she yelled. "I don't want to know!"

Laughing, Mary pulled Sara's hands away. "I'll stop, I promise."

"Thank you."

"Oh, Sara," Mary sighed. She smiled. "We need to find you a man, too. I want you to feel about someone the way I feel about Tom."

Sara smiled a bittersweet smile. "I think that some people are just meant to be alone."

"Oh, stop."

"No, really." She sighed. "Mar, the one man I really, truly wanted left me and went to Vegas. Now, all I do is wait for him to email me. I get so excited when I see his name in my inbox … I'm ridiculous about the whole thing. Every email he's sent has just been newsy and conversational, yet every time I see his name, I think I'm going to read some declaration of love. I never will, and …"

"And you need to move on," Mary said, grabbing her hands. "You need to find someone else to want."

Sara shook her head. "I'm not ready. I still want him."

"Can I be totally honest?"

"Yes."

"Even if it hurts?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Just rip off the band aid, Mary!"

Mary took a deep breath. "He doesn't want you," she said bluntly. "If he did, he would have asked you to go to Vegas with him. The closest he came was gently nudging you toward forensics."

Sara looked at her for a minute. "I'm going to bed," she said abruptly.

"It's nine thirty," Mary said in disbelief.

"I have an early lab tomorrow," Sara said, getting up from her seat on the couch.

"Sara, wait."

Sara stopped in the doorway of the living room. "I know that I told you that I would be fine with brutal honesty. I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm mad at myself."

"Do you want to talk?" Mary asked gently.

"Not right now."

"Sara …"

"Please, Mar, just let me be alone."

"All right," Mary sighed. "Good night."

"Good night."

Sara made her way into her bedroom. She closed the door, and leaned back against it, letting the tears roll down her cheeks.

Mary was right, and Sara knew it. If Grissom truly wanted to be involved with her, he would have asked her to move to Vegas with him. He would have asked her to give up her dreams of finishing her degree to work with him in his lab. He would have proposed that they try to work out a relationship.

But, he had not asked her to do anything except to consider a career in forensics.

Laughing sadly, Sara stepped away from the door and sat down on her bed. She had told him that she was considering it, and he had seemed pleased…

She wiped away her tears and sat up a bit straighter. Maybe this was how it was supposed to happen. Sara wasn't a huge believer in fate, but she did think that some things were meant to be. Maybe this whole … thing … with Grissom was designed to force her to consider a career in forensics. Maybe she belonged in a crime lab. Maybe her true mission in life should be to bring criminals to justice for the horrors they inflicted on others.

Maybe …


"Mary! Where are you?"

Mary opened her door and poked her head out. "I thought you went to bed an hour ago."

Sara grinned at her. "Who can go to sleep at nine thirty?"

"Six year olds," Mary replied. She studied Sara carefully. "You look better. Have you mentally processed everything?"

"Yes."

"Good." Mary looked at her expectantly, waiting for more. Sara always needed a build-up before she got to the heart of a story.

"I was thinking about what you said – that all Grissom has done is to push me toward forensics."

"Right?"

"Well … that might have worked."

"What? I thought you were going for the PhD! You've been accepted by three different schools, one of which was your first choice …"

"I know," Sara said. "But, Mary, I'm really thinking about forgetting the PhD and going into forensics."

"Sara, you've wanted a doctorate all your life! How can you walk away from that?"

"I know," Sara sighed. "Believe me, this wasn't an easy choice."

Mary narrowed her eyes. "Are you doing this to impress him?"

"I'm doing this because it interests me," Sara said. "Look, I can get my acceptance deferred. I'll try it out for a year and see what happens."

"I don't know …"

"Do you believe in fate?" Sara asked suddenly.

"Yes," Mary said slowly. "But I thought that you didn't."

"In some cases, I do," Sara said. "In this case, I do."

"You're going to need to give me a little more."

"I had never thought of going into law enforcement," Sara said. "Never. But, after listening to Grissom talk, after reading the accounts of his cases, I'm starting to think that it could be the perfect place for me." She paused. "I'd like to help the victims," she said quietly. "I'd like to be the one who can help them find closure."

"It would be tough," Mary cautioned. "You'd see some horrible things."

"I know. I know it won't be pretty or easy or a clean lab gig. But, I still feel like it's where I'm meant to be. This is what I want to do, Mary."

"For whom?"

Sara sighed. "For me."

Mary nodded. "All right, then. If it's for you, I can only wish you good luck."

Sara smiled. "Thanks."

"But, if you're doing this for him, I'm going to have to beat some sense into you."

Sara laughed. "I'd like to see you try."


The next morning, Sara put her newly made resolve to work. She found her acceptance letters and composed replies, asking to have her admission deferred for a year. She knew that a year would give her perspective, and allow her to decide if criminalistics was something she truly wanted to pursue.

With her education settled, she began working on finding a job. She pulled out lists of required application materials from all the labs she had found that were looking for physicists. She put together application packets, and went to the post office. She mailed packets to all the labs, including the San Francisco Crime Lab.

Upon returning to her apartment from the post office, she sent an email to Grissom. She knew that he was waiting to hear from her about her decision regarding her future. Besides, he had mentioned some useful contacts in San Francisco …

Her only hope was that he wouldn't see her email as a plea for help. She wanted to get this job on her own merit. Yet, even she wasn't naïve enough to think that most people found their way into jobs without help. In the end, she decided to pay him the professional courtesy of letting him know that she was applying – if he wanted to act beyond that, it was entirely up to him.


Grissom,

I've done it! I just sent my application to San Francisco! I'm really excited. My roommate thinks I'm crazy for putting off my doctorate work, but I think this is the right thing for me.

I don't have any other news, but I thought you'd be interested in that bit of information. I just hope they get back to me soon – as you know, I'm not the most patient person in the world.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Sara

Grissom sat bolt upright in his chair when he read the message. She had finally decided – and had reached the decision he had anticipated. He grinned, and immediately reached for his phone. The day shift CSI supervisor in San Francisco had been his best friend in college – Grissom had been the best man in Carl's wedding. While he rarely asked for favors, this was one time that he was willing to call one in.

The phone only rang twice before it was picked up.

"Carl Benson."

"Hi, Carl, it's Gil Grissom."

"Gil! How are you? I haven't heard from you in ages!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. I've been horrible about calling lately."

"Don't blame yourself. I haven't exactly picked up the phone, either. How are things with you?"

"Fine," Grissom replied. "You?"

"Good. Susie started kindergarten this year."

"Is she really that old already?" Grissom asked, picturing the preschooler he had last seen two years before.

"Yeah, I know. It's amazing how fast they grow up." Carl's voice carried his smile over the miles to Grissom's office. "So, what can I do for you?"

Grissom laughed. "Well, I wish I could say that I was just calling to catch up …"

"Don't." There was obviously no offense taken; Carl genuinely wanted to help his friend. "I know you'd never call this time of day just to chat. Do you need a consult?"

"No, nothing that dramatic," Grissom replied. "I actually have a favor I'd like to ask of you."

"A favor?" Carl asked in surprise. Grissom never asked for favors. "I'll do anything for you, Gil. How can I help?"

"I have a student who just applied for a job in your lab. You know I would never ask this if I didn't think she was fully capable of doing the job, but … I was hoping that you might give her special consideration."

"Of course. What's her name?"

"Sara Sidle."

"Sara Sidle?" Carl repeated. "I don't remember seeing her application."

"I believe she just sent it recently," Grissom said. As in two hours ago. "It may not have gotten to you yet."

"I'll definitely keep an eye out for it," Carl promised. "And I guarantee her an interview. More, if I can swing it."

"Thanks, Carl. I really appreciate it."

"Anything for a friend."


Two days later, Carl found a thick envelope on his desk. He opened it to find Sara Sidle's application. He sat down to read it over.

Thirty minutes later, he was sure that his friend had found him a prime candidate. Sara was clearly well-qualified, despite her lack of law enforcement training. She didn't have a degree in forensics, she had never served as a cadet at any academy … yet, he was sure that anyone with her educational background could pick that aspect up quickly enough. Her physics degrees made her a very attractive candidate – particularly considering the fact that the lab's senior physicist had recently retired. Even if this girl hadn't been a friend of Gil's, he would have interviewed her. As it was, being Gil's friend made it even more likely that she would be hired.

He put her resume down on his desk and reached for his phone.


The phone was ringing when Sara walked into her apartment after her morning classes. She dropped her keys and bag in a mad dash to grab it before the machine picked up.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Hello. May I speak with Sara Sidle?"

"This is she," she replied.

"Sara, hello," the man said warmly. She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm Carl Benson, the day shift supervisor with the San Francisco Crime Lab."

"Oh, hi," Sara said, hoping to keep the surprise in her voice to a minimum. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he replied. "I'm calling because I just received your application. So, you'd like to work with us?"

"Yes, I would," she said without hesitating.

"Well, I'd like to talk more about giving you that chance," Carl said. "I'd love for you to come in for an interview."

Sara sank down onto the nearest chair. "I'd love to come," she said.

"When would be good for you?" Carl asked.

"Well, my finals are next week, so any time after that would be fine."

"Shall we say Monday the 19th, then?"

"That would be great," Sara replied.

"Excellent. How is ten thirty for you?"

"Sounds great."

"Perfect. Do you know how to find us in San Francisco?"

"I do," Sara said, seeing in her mind's eye the building she had driven past many times as a child.

"Great," Carl said. "I'll see you on Monday, December 19 at ten thirty, then."

"Right," Sara agreed.

"I look forward to meeting you."

"You, too."

"Good bye, Sara."

"Bye."

She heard the phone click as Carl hung up, but she couldn't quite bring herself to put her own receiver back in its cradle. She stared at it in shock.

The shift that had begun a week before was nearly complete. She could feel the pieces of her life sliding into their new places.

Nothing would ever be the same again.