Epilogue
"I'm taking my break now, Doctor" she said to Doctor Letterman, the chief coroner of the San Francisco Coroner's office.
"Sure, Sara." he said and went back to his papers.
She got herself a diet coke and started loitering around as usual. She saw two men walking down the hallway that looked like criminal investigators and decided to follow them. Naturally, she couldn't help but to eavesdrop:

-"She had no defensive wounds?"
-"No, but the coroner said that she may have been drugge. He's still waiting for the tox reports."

Sara finished her coke and went back to her office. She was an assistant there and didn't actually do anything but paperwork but she liked hanging around the coroners and the investigators, where the so called action was.
She walked back into her office and noticed that her boss, Dr. Letterman, was gone. He left her a little note – "Had an emergency call, I'm in the lab."
'Emergency call?' she thought. 'He operates on dead guys!'
She shrugged and started going through the paperwork again, when she noticed she had to ship out a report that he had forgotten to sign and was pretty urgent.
She went into the lab and the good doctor was there examining some poor man's body.
"Hey, I need you to sign the report on the Donavan case," she said.
"Put it there, I'll get right to it." He replied. He was in the middle of cracking open the guy's ribs and couldn't really leave it at the moment.
Sara placed the file onto the desk and walked closer to the body, looking over the doctor's shoulder. "What's his story?"
"This guy," the coroner said and wiped the sweat off his brow, "this guy was found floating face down in his own swimming pool."
"And you're opening him up to see…. If he's filled with water?"
The coroner laughed. "Close enough. I'm checking to see whether there's water in his lungs."
"Oh." Sara observed as he cut through the lung and although she couldn't tell what was going on, he seemed to know what he was doing.
"Is that water?" she asked.
"No," he answered, "but that doesn't mean he didn't…"
"Yeah, I know." She said. "It doesn't mean he didn't drown. The body automatically reacts to drowning and the vocal cords at the top of the trachea constrict to prevent water from entering the lungs."
"Very good, Sara." The doctor was impressed. "It's called laryngospasm; in fact, in many cases of drowning – the C.O.D. is actually asphyxia, we also call it 'dry drowning'. We should be able to know for sure by checking stomach content, which we would have to do anyway."
"Stomach content?" she was genuinely intrigued.
"Yes, he may have water in his stomach," he added, and before he could explain she cut in – "Which would help us indicate whether he drowned while conscious or not."
"Yes, but regardless – we have to check every single organ. That's very good though, Sara. You catch on quick."
"Thank you," she blushed and brushed her hair back, "I actually took a short forensic science seminar back in college."
"You did? Your file didn't say anything about it"
"Well, it was sort of unofficial," she commented, "long story."
"Anyway, I still have a lot of work to do. Want to stay and watch?"
"I'd love to!"

"You're in!" Doctor Letterman said – almost five years later.
"Yes!" She smiled and hugged him. "Thank you!"
"You better be the best damn CSI there is, though, Sidle! I had to pull every last string I still have in this department, it's my reputation on the line here too!"
"I won't let you down." She was ecstatic.
"Why don't you come over tonight? Jennifer and I would love to have you over to celebrate."
"I'd love to." she said and smiled.
"I have to go; Jennifer wants me to pick up the kids. See you tonight?"
"Sure," she smiled, "see ya'."
Sara was the happiest she'd ever been in… a long while. Starting tomorrow, she will be a CSI trainee! After five years of getting the scraps from the coroner's office, taking seminars and tagging along to real investigators just to learn the craft, she was now finally going to be the real thing. She even dated a criminalist for a month just to learn more about it. And now she was going to be an investigator herself.
Well, she was actually going to be a rookie first, but hey, you have to start somewhere.
She walked back to her office and started packing up all her stuff. Once everything was packed and ready to go, she took a five minute break and suddenly she froze. From across the lab, she saw a man, walking around in a lab coat, examining a body and talking to one of the coroners. She could have sworn it was Gil Grissom.
She was too far away to tell for sure and it had been more than several years since she met him but suddenly she lost her breath. She just kept gazing at him for five minutes, until he finished his examination and she hid behind her little cubicle. She was actually pretty sure it was him, but… should she approach him?
Memories started flooding back in her mind. She remembered the bridge back on Campus and how she had met him there the night after she accidentally walked into his lecture. She remembered how they bonded and how she covered him when it rained. She then remembered how he covered her the following night and how they sat at his temporary apartment, trying to solve his riddle. She remembered how they kissed - and how everything went downhill from there on.
She couldn't bear to approach him, not after so long. He probably wouldn't remember her, anyway.
But what if he would? She had to find out!
She ran out of her office and looked around the corridors. Where was he?
She went into the lab where he had been earlier and saw that it was empty. He had disappeared into thin air!
"Hey Jack," she called the desk clerk from the lab phone, "who was just in Lab 2?"
"Oh, that was Doctor Norman and some investigator from Vegas."
"Vegas?" she repeated, "do you have him on the log?"
"Yeah," he said, "Dr. Gil… Grismond?"
"Grissom." she corrected him and her heart skipped a beat.
"Oh, yeah! Oh, by the way, I heard you got into the CSI program, good luck."
But she already hung up and was halfway outside. She ran down the stairs and looked at the street – and apart for some casual traffic, it was pretty empty. No Gil Grissom, no Doctor Norman… Nothing.
She went back inside, saddened. She missed him – in many ways.

Several months later, Sara finished her training and started working full time job in the San Francisco crime lab. She was still a rookie, so she was naturally given low-key assignments; mostly processing work.
It started out like any other Tuesday and she was called into processing room 1 to go through some garbage collected at a crime scene. Being the new blood, she was given all the dirty work.
Sara spilled the content of the trash bags onto the processing table and started assorting everything she found, first by relevance to the case and then by function, when suddenly she saw a not-so-little black beetle crawling carelessly out of the pile of trash. She put out a little smile and looked closely at the little creature.
"Hi there, little fella'," she smiled, "feeding on leftovers?"
The bug didn't respond.
"Of course you are." she sighed. "I think I'm going to name you Wallace"
"Actually," a voice startled her. "It's a she."
She turned around and her heart stopped; in the entrance to the processing room stood none other than Doctor Gil Grissom.
"Scarabaeinae Geotrupes," he added, "dung eater."
She ignored the bug-talk. She hardly even heard what he said, all she could hear was her own heart pounding.
After she didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, he spoke again. "How have you been, Sara?"
"Good, good," she replied almost automatically, "I just finished my training and as you can see I'm going through some… trash." She suddenly realized how unappealing that was and how she probably smelt. He didn't seem to mind, though - or even notice for that matter.
"What…. What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm training the local entomologist," he said, "he's new to the trade and we're the only two entomologists in the west coast, so… I need to show him the ropes."
"Oh," she said, "so… how long will you be…?"
"Once a week, actually, for the next several months."
Sara wasn't sure what to say now. She hated small talk.
"Look, I have to finish up here…. Will you still be here later, around lunchtime?"
Grissom smiled. "I'll see you then."

Funny how some things become routine. It was Tuesday again and again Sara had a lunch-date with Gil Grissom. It wasn't much of a date, as it was the two of them sitting down to lunch and just… talking. Mostly, she'd ask him for career advice, help on cases, that sort of stuff.
Very early in their 'routine' she decided that as much as she admired him, she had to keep her emotions in check. Long distance relationships tend not to work, and besides, she was still a little stirred over what had happened so long ago, yet seemed so recent.
She noticed that in the past five years since she first met him he had become a little introvert. He seemed distant, always pondering, a little quiet, even. She usually broke the ice with science talk and she loved nothing better than watching his eyes light up as he told her about this or that scientist, poet or playwright. She thought herself to be versatile but talking to him she realized there's so much more she can learn from him other than forensic sciences.
This particular Tuesday, however, she couldn't find that light. He seemed ever more distanced, so she tried to get through with small talk, science talk and she even asked him a couple of questions about her current case even though she already knew the answers. When she realized she wasn't getting through, she looked directly at him. "What's going on?"
"They caught the assailant from the Donna McCrea case." He said, looking her in the eye for the first time that day.
Sara was shocked. "Who is it?" she asked, trembling.
"Christopher Harris" he replied cautiously.
"Christopher…." She repeated. "Professor Christopher Harris!"
"He tried to attack another student last week but apparently she was trained in self defense and knocked him down. When the police brought him in, he also confessed for raping Donna and two other girls in the past ten years."
Sara was speechless. "All this time…" she was still trembling.
"Mark Anderson may have been a jerk but he's not a rapist."
Sara ran everything in her mind and suddenly everything fell into place. Harris had given her the notebook with Donna's pictures in them, it was him who said that it was Mark's notebook, and she never even bothered to check.
"Professor Harris stayed with me after class several times, he never…"
"The thing about serial rapists, there's hardly ever a way to know…" he tried getting technical but it didn't help. She was about to break.
Grissom had hoped that by telling Sara about the capture of Donna's assailant he'd give her some closure. He now realized – a little too late – that closure was not what she was looking for. He knew far too well that there was never closure in cases like this. He now also realized how badly Sara herself was scarred by the incident even though she herself wasn't attacked. Back then, he told himself, he was too involved with the case to even notice.
Sara's eyes were full of tears and she stared at her half empty plate.
"You know…" she finally spoke, "I became a CSI because I thought Mark Anderson was guilty and I wanted to prove it."
"Well it's a good thing you didn't," he said, and tried to get her to look at him, "but Sara, that was years ago. You're smarter than that now."
"It's not about smarts, Grissom," she finally looked at him and his blood ran cold when he saw how intense the look in her eyes was.
"It's only about smarts!" he said. "You can't let your heart blind your sight of what's really important!"
"But then what else is there?" she cried.
He wanted to answer 'the truth' but even he knew when the right words were the wrong ones.
Instead he just slowly sent his hand forward and gently tried to wipe the tears off her cheek but she brushed his hand off in protest. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. Grissom, however, did not falter - and again brushed her cheek and placed his hand in the back of her neck, petting her head gently.
She tried again the push him away but she slowly gave in to his touch and let it all out.
Grissom let her relax a moment and then looked at her with an admiring look. "You are a brilliant woman, Sara." She remembered how he told her that once, only that then he called her 'a girl'.
"You're already proving to be a brilliant CSI," he added, and tried to get a response from her, "and one day, you're going to…"
"Oh shut up." she smiled through the tears and he smiled back. His mission was accomplished.

"Norman pushed." he took a picture of the dummy and moved along to the next one.
"Norman jumped." he took another picture and walked to the last dummy.
"Norman fell."
"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?" he heard a voice say. He stopped in place and smiled. "I don't even have to turn around. Sara Sidle!"
"That's me." her heart beat like crazy. She met him on almost a monthly basis now, and yet somehow knowing that she'll be moving in and seeing him every day now excited her. It felt new and exciting. She gave him a big smile as he approached her.
"Still tossing simulation dummies? There are other ways to tell, you know?" she teased.
"How? Computer simulation? No thanks. I'm a scientist I like to see it."
Oh how she missed him…

THE END