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To Sara, dawn was always the most beautiful time of day in Nevada. Unlike most cities, in which dawn spelled the arrival of another working day, in Las Vegas, it was a rare moment of quiet. It was when the last revellers were at last falling into bed, and a pleasant lull fell over the streets as the sun rose on the desert horizon. The desert itself was still, breathtaking in its endlessness as it hovered between the chill of the night and the heat of day, when the summer sun scorched the plains until it was too hot for even the insects to settle, and the asphalt of the lonely roads began to melt.
In the driver's seat of the SUV, Sara fumbled with one hand for her sunglasses. It was already getting hot, and in Nevada, sunglasses were as much an essential part of her kit as anything else. She put them on as she finally spotted her destination ahead – a small cluster of police cars parked a short way from the road, half hidden by clumps of waist-high salt brush.
She peeled off the road, slowing to a stop beside them. Getting out, she nodded in greeting as Brass approached.
"Hey," he said. "They're over there."
He nodded to a spot a short distance away, where Sara spotted her former colleagues gathered as they took a break.
"Thanks," she replied.
She moved to open the back doors of the SUV, zipping on her CSI vest before grabbing her kit, and balancing in her other hand the cardboard tray of coffees she had bought along the way. Brass had not asked her why she was there, though she knew he had not needed to. Though she was officially allocated to swing shift, she still often helped out grave. Her supervisor had no issues with loaning her out whenever Grissom was short, and as the weeks passed, everyone had relaxed on the rules. She often lingered behind after her own shift to see the others, and Grissom in turn had begun to request her help. The set-up meant that they could sleep together during the day.
They called out greetings as she neared, and Sara smiled. She could tell with one glance they had been out here all night. The faint layer of dust on their jeans and shoes, along with the depleted water bottles leaning against their kits were all evidence enough, but the more tell-tale sign was the look of weariness in Nick's posture. He stood, hands on hips, and cast the desert around him a tired glance. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.
"Thank you for coming," Grissom greeted. "We appreciate it."
His tone was formal, but Sara expected this. Though the team knew about their relationship, they had both long agreed to keep it professional at work. Their reputation had taken a hit since the news had got out, and neither of them wanted to fuel the fire any further.
"No problem," Sara replied. She set down her kit and held out the tray. "Here, I brought coffee."
"Wow," Warrick said, looking grateful as he seized one, "you're a lifesaver."
"Just what the doctor ordered," Nick quipped, brightening.
"Thanks," Catherine added, taking her own.
They sat down on their kits, seizing a five minute break before they would go back behind the tape.
"So what's the story?" Sara asked, sitting beside Grissom.
"So far there's not much of one," he admitted. "Yesterday highway patrol spotted a torn and bloodied shirt hanging from a bush by the roadside. DNA of the blood was confirmed by the lab to be from a cold case – a 38 year old woman named Lizzie Stephens who disappeared from Vegas without trace ten years ago. We've been out here doing a grid search in a quarter mile radius. So far we're about halfway, and it hasn't been fruitful."
Sara nodded. Cases such as these were not glamorous, but were a frequent part of the CSI workload. Similar to cases of petty theft, they usually involved hours of work and report writing for little measurable benefit. Yet to Sara, who after seven years in Vegas had seen it all, they were often a welcome reprieve from the darker side of the city. It was nice to be able to chat with her colleagues on a case that was relatively stress-free.
"We'll only rest a minute," Grissom instructed to the team. "Finish your coffee and then we'll get going. We need to get this done."
Catherine gave him a weary look, but Sara sensed, unlike the others, that Grissom might have had another reason for wanting to wrap up the case. As soon as they were done, the two of them would have a thirty-six hour window of leave. Buying a ring was one of the things on their list, but Sara shut the thought off before her mind could drift prematurely to the others.
"So how's life in swing?" Warrick asked, filling the gap in conversation.
"It's fine," Sara said, hoisting a smile. "Busy, but okay. There's more daylight, so that's something, but -"
"Not the same?" Catherine asked, giving her a knowing look as if she saw through all Sara's words.
For a moment Sara teetered on the brink of honesty, but stopped short.
"I'm managing."
The truth was, swing was fine, and everyone on her team was friendly enough, but it wasn't the same. Apart from missing Grissom, she also missed the team, and the feeling of isolation at being left out of their everyday company had disturbed her more than she had anticipated.
"Well it's not the same without you," Nick offered. "I can tell you that much."
"I'll second that," Warrick added kindly.
"Hang in there," Catherine said. "Give it time, we'll get you back."
"It's done, Catherine," Grissom said, with flat honesty.
Sara had to agree, but said nothing, touched by their loyalty. Across the desert she watched the air above the salt bush ripple with heat in a summer mirage. She stared at it, feeling hollow.
"You remember we thought we were all split up permanently once before and yet we ended up back together," Warrick recalled.
"That's right," Nick added. "And you know Ecklie was a lot angrier that time. Just give it time, pick your moment. You know how to play the game of politics. Make your useful, and then when he's grateful, owes you a favour, move in."
"He's right," Catherine said. "In any other town it may be a done deal, but this is Vegas. Nothing here is ever the same for long. Things are always changing, it's inevitable."
"You can come back with Catherine as supervisor," Nick said. "There's no conflict of interest then, right?"
Sara had a feeling that after two years of sleeping with Grissom, effectively having an illicit affair with her boss, and with her prior arguments with Ecklie, that it was not going to be that simple. And then, too, change was expected; it was a part of life that nothing stayed the same forever. But touched by their friendship, she smiled, and thanked them.
"Hang in there," Nick said brightly. "It's never over 'til it's over."
Sara watched the mirage, the subtle ripple of hot desert air. She frowned, but pushed the thought away.
"Let's go," Grissom decided. "Come on, break's over."
Standing, Sara stowed her empty cup safely away inside her kit, and then picked it up to walk with them to resume the grid search.
The last thing she remembered was feeling faint, and after that, everything changed.
I hope I'm not going to get killed for breaking it here ... but to be honest this just felt like a natural chapter ending, considering. I would really love to hear what people think, if they're liking this or otherwise. Thanks - Anna.