The Choice

By: Saskia Mitchell Van Allen

Rating: PG for now, will probably eventually be an R.

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, but to the v. creative people over at CBS, Alliance Atlantis, Anthony Zuiker and of course, the actors who breathe life into the words on a page. I profit in no way from this story. I also would love to eat JF for breakfast, if only she'd let me, dreamy sigh.

Notes: I've been working on this one for a while, I ordinarily do not write "case" stories, and I also try NEVER to post WIP's, just because I hate getting to the end of the story and realizing it's not the end and I will have to wait another week to find out what happened. However, given the length of this one, and the complexity of the story line, I am forced to do it this way. Hope you enjoy. Posted just in time for CSI tonight...Awww...

"So what did you need to see me about, Ecklie?" Sara smoothed down her pant leg as she for-once gracefully slid into the chair across from the slimeball's desk.

"As the acting supervisor while Grissom is out, I have discretion in all of the cases during his leave of absence," Ecklie reminded her snidely.

"Everyone knows that. What about it?" Sara asked patiently.

"A little situation has come up in Reno which the City of Las Vegas has graciously agreed to assist with."

"Okay, where's the casefile?"

"Not so fast. They've asked for a detective, a female. As you know, Detective Alvarez is on a professional leave of absence, and Detective O'Reilly is pregnant. Which leaves exactly two criminalists available for the task."

"Two? You have two women on day shift, that makes four," Sara volleyed.

"You know, Grissom may put up with your spoiled bitching, but I won't. My team is busy solving the crimes in Las Vegas."

Sara clenched her teeth. "Catherine is team leader while Grissom is out. So that leaves me. Just hand over the casefile."

Ecklie smirked as he tossed the folder in her general direction. Paper scattered, and Sara rolled her eyes before reaching for it. Sara opened the file. She glanced through the case notes.

"I want a partner. My pick," she demanded.

"We only have the authority to send one," Ecklie rubbed his greasy hands together.

"A partner or I won't go," she said simply. "A male, from the night crew. I mean, after all, your team is solving all the cases, right?"

Ecklie narrowed his eyes.

Sara's mind raced. Nick or Warrick? Warrick or Nick? 'Rick or Nick, NickorRick? "CSI Three Stokes," she announced, hoping she sounded confident.

"Fine," Ecklie rolled his eyes. He really couldn't spare another one from the night crew, but he didn't want to tell her that.

"I hope you realize Grissom is going to be pissed about this when he finds out," Sara informed him haughtily.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing he isn't here," Ecklie snarked.

Sara snarled at Ecklie, but didn't say anything else. At least she wasn't going in alone, which is exactly how Ecklie would have had it if he hadn't been under pressure to get her to agree. Sara left Ecklie's office with a bounce to her step. Being hired out was no fun, but she wasn't going to let Ecklie know that. In fact, she was determined not to complain, ever.

"Undercover?" she whined. Nick kicked her under the table.

"As I was saying, CSIs, the female police officers of Reno, Nevada are being assaulted and raped. Six have been treated at St. John's hospital for sexual trauma within the last four months. IA is at a dead-end, they suspect that it is internal, but have no viable suspects. None of the women will talk," the sheriff tossed his copy of the file on the conference table where Nick, Sara and Catherine were gathered.

"So you want Sara to go in as a new hire?" Catherine asked, dubiously.

"CSI Sidle is unfortunately, the only female officer available for this task. And according to Ecklie, Sidle had volunteered. The State of Nevada thanks her for her service."

"But Sar…CSI Sidle doesn't have any experience as a detective," Catherine pointed out.

"But CSI Stokes does. Which is why he will be joining CSI Sidle in this case. CSI Sidle will work from the inside to gather forensic evidence and testimony from the victims," the sheriff turned back to the criminalists. He handed them dossiers, and continued, "You will pose as husband and wife. CSI Sidle will join the force Monday as Mrs. Mary Sark. You served on the Birmingham Alabama police force in Vice for eight years. CSI Stokes will be Mr. Sam Sark, president of Sark International, a foreign-based toothpaste manufacturer. You've transferred out to Reno to care for your dying mother. Any questions?"

"How long?" Sara asked, glancing through her dossiers.

"That all depends, CSIs. Your handler will be Bryce Caldwell. Officer Caldwell will be contacting you once you arrive in Reno. You have an apartment there, you will immediately begin building rapport with the female detectives and officers."

"Rape victims don't just crack like nuts. This is going to take time, serious time," Sara advised.

"Try hard," the sheriff responded dryly. "We have a limited amount of time before the Reno Rapist chooses another victim. Officer Caldwell has prepared these files to brief you, read them before you leave." The Sheriff gave them each significant looks before leaving.

"He has no respect for those women!" Sara said as soon as he had left the room, her voice dripping with venom.

Nick put a calming hand on Sara's arm, and Catherine was surprised that Sara settled down after taking a deep breath, and going back to reading the dossier she had been given.

"You don't have to do this," Catherine offered, experimentally.

"I volunteered because Ecklie was being a dick. I can't back out now," Sara argued. "Besides, Nick will be there. I'm not going in alone. Can you do it? I mean, run the unit without us?"

"Looks like I'll have to," Catherine raised an eyebrow as a challenge, but then rose to leave before Sara could respond. As the glass door closed behind her, Sara and Nick immediately put their heads together.

"Sorry about volunteering you."

"I'd rather be there with you than here working cases," Nick winked.

"I wonder how much preparation we'll be getting from Officer Caldwell," Sara mused. She sighed, reading her dossier. No children, infertility. Married to Sam Sark eleven years, right out of...oh, good, college. Hmmm, Duke. Not a bad cover story, BS in Criminal Justice? Next to her, Nick laughed.

"What?" Sara leaned over his arm to read his profile.

"Sam Sark, married to Mary Sark for eleven years. Graduate of Duke University, BS in Mathematics," Nick chuckled again. "I sure hope I won't be expected to use that numeric, mathematically-oriented brain."

"Plane tickets," Sara pulled hers out of the file folder. "Tomorrow, eight p.m."

Nick looked at his watch; "We have thirty six hours."

"I have to call my mother," Sara sighed heavily.

"I guess I should call Katie," Nick closed his file and rose to leave. "I'll pick you up at six tomorrow, honey."

Sara glared as he left, then also gathered up her coat to depart.

Nick stored his carryon baggage above their heads, plopping into the seat next to Sara, who was nervously clutching the big red bag that served as her purse for most occasions.

"I hate flying," she confessed. "I mean, I really hate it."

"You wouldn't hate it if you knew how to multitask," Nick winked as he popped chewing gum into his mouth.

"If you're referring to the infamous mile high club, I wouldn't know anything about that," Sara replied primly. She wondered if Nick had had his share of airplane bathroom nookie. Surely he didn't know about her indiscretion with the campus stud? She reminded herself that only Grissom knew of that little debacle and she knew he wouldn't be telling anyone anytime soon. Wherever he was.

"Would I imply such a thing?" Nick tried his best to look scandalized. Sara rolled her eyes and pulled out the in-flight magazine. She figured she'd have plenty of time to talk to Nick before this whole affair was over. She was grateful when he conked out about six minutes into the flight. His light snoring let her know what his idea of "multitasking" was. Sleeping and eating were two things Nick could do anywhere.

Sara was surprised when she awoke to the sound of the captain's voice. They were in the process of preparing to land, and Sara shook Nick awake to look over the gaudy lights of the Biggest Little City in the World. He sleepily nodded his head, then spent the rest of the flight attempting to re-hydrate his contacts.

They left the plane and made eye contact with a very suave young man who was leaning against the wall across the terminal.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sark?" he stepped forward to address them and Nick nodded before pulling Sara close protectively.

Bryce Caldwell appeared as if he hadn't noticed. In reality, he was taking in every action of the couple before him. Stature, height, posture, body language, voice quality, tenor and diction. Clothing, weight, grooming, and manner of dress. Mannerisms, inflection, volume and tone.

"Your luggage?" Bryce Caldwell led them to the baggage pick-up area, then out to the parking garage, where a rental car was waiting for them. Sara was glad to let Nick take the front seat; she used the time to observe Officer Caldwell. He was a tall man, with muted blonde hair and eyes that were a very light gray, almost white. He had strong shoulders; well-defined arms peeked out from the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. His tie had been loosened, slightly, and his slacks were a bit rumpled. Sara wondered how long he had been on the clock.

The ride to the apartment complex was short and yet tedious, for Officer Caldwell did not utter a single word the entire time. Nick grabbed their suitcases from the trunk, while Sara took both her bag and Nick's small duffel. They followed the IA officer into the house, and watched as he proceeded to make himself home at the kitchen table. He spread his files out, and seemed to be paying no mind to them.

Sara raised an eyebrow, then followed Nick into the bedroom. They looked around, acclimating themselves. One bedroom, adjoining bath. A small den with a couch and a desk with a laptop. The living room was spacious and clean, with an open dining area and a small kitchen. Sara laid her suitcase out on the bed and opened it, watching Caldwell busily sign papers. Out of the corner of her right eye, she saw that Nick was hanging things in the closet. She nonchalantly sidled over to the door and stepped in, closing it behind her.

"Strange," she muttered.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"And smart."

"Trying to draw us out."

"How do you want to play this?" she deferred.

"Good cop, bad cop?"

"He won't take the bait."

"That's true," Nick conceded.

"Maybe we don't need to play him. After all, he is here to help us."

"But he's IA. He's in this to break people down."

"IA is not a bad thing, inherently."

Nick lowered his voice. "They question the integrity of good officers."

"That's why we're here. To protect good officers and smoke out the bad ones."

Sighing, Nick nodded. A creak from outside the door forced their hand.

Sara threw open the door. "What spacious closets, Sam!"

Bryce Caldwell didn't look surprised. He didn't have any expression at all.

"I'll finish unpacking," Nick said brightly.

"You don't have to impress me," he advised Sara gruffly as he followed her out to the kitchen.

"We're in character, Officer Caldwell," Sara said smugly.

"Well, then I assume you have memorized the case file," he pursed his lips.

"About as memorized as their gonna get," Nick called from the bedroom.

"Your objective," he addressed Sara, "is to gain rapport with the female officers. Surveillance, gathering forensic evidence, attempting to get taped statements from the witnesses, and of course, to serve as bait for the Reno Rapist."

"I understand my objectives," Sara responded seriously.

"You will meet with IA Officer Clemmons tomorrow for a refresher course on weapon-less defense."

"I am well-trained," Sara argued.

"Regardless, you will not know how the suspect will attack next. I want you to be prepared for any situation. It's your job to find the Rapist, and it's my job to keep you safe."

"I thought that was my job," Nick stepped out from the bedroom and closed the door.

"Yes, Officer Stokes, you are here to assist Officer Sidle in her pursuits. You will not, however, make contact with the victims, or personally accompany Officer Sidle during victim interviews. You will be working with me, conducting the investigation externally, independently of CSI Sidle."

"Officer Caldwell..." Sara began.

"Bryce," he corrected.

"Officer Caldwell," Nick broke in, "we're not police officers. We're criminalists."

"I am well versed on your backgrounds. You will be Sam and Mary at all times, beginning tonight. Sara, you had the right idea by practicing. Even when you are alone together, I recommend using your alias's to keep you focused."

Sara shivered at the use of her given name by this officious man, and Nick regarded her with a sharp look.

"Mary has a hearing aid, this will allow her to hear you at all times, which will be particularly important during surveillance. Mary, you will wear the listening device whenever you are in the field, no exceptions. You can turn it off, using this small switch. You and CSI Stokes will also be issued cellular phones. The hearing aid, however, is key. Forget it, and it could make you."

"I understand," Sara answered grimly, taking the small box from him. Bryce Caldwell held the box in such a way that it was impossible for Sara to avoid touching him as she took it from him. It gave her a small shiver to touch his clammy skin. She pulled the box into her lap, and Nick's warm finger grazed the back of her hand to reassure her.

"I will leave you now," Officer Caldwell stood and pointed at the wall phone, "You can access me at any time by dialing 611."

"611," Nick repeated, "I think we got it." He stood to escort Officer Caldwell to the door.

"I will be back tomorrow at eight p.m. to instruct you for Monday morning," he nodded at Sara, who didn't react. Nick locked the door behind him and came to sit across from Sara.

"Creepy," he muttered.

"Hmm," Sara mused, staring into space.

"Hey," he reached out and touched her hand again. She shook from her reverie, but didn't pull away. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Sara smiled bravely.

"I know how these cases get to you," Nick said consolingly.

"I'll be fine," Sara reassured, standing up. "You want to hit the sack?"

"Together?" Nick raised his eyebrows.

Sara suddenly looked very worried. "Nick, I didn't even think about it before. There's only one bed!"

"Hey, hey," Nick stood also, shaking his head. "Don't worry, there's a couch in the den, I'll crash there."

"That'll be uncomfortable," Sara argued. "You sleep there one night, I'll sleep there one night, and we'll alternate."

"Not necessary," Nick smiled. He didn't know if he could keep it together, sleeping in the same bed that she had slept in the night before, smelling her on the sheets, the pillows. He was, after all, only human, and Sara was very, very desirable.

"I'll insist," she promised as he propelled her towards the bedroom. He grabbed his duffel bag and went into the bathroom, leaving her sitting on the bed. When he came out, she was in the same position, only she was holding a very brief cotton shift that he assumed was her nightgown.

"Shower's yours," he watched her look up at him, dumbfounded, then mutter before standing and disappearing into the bathroom. Sara stood under impossibly hot water, working out the tensed muscles in her neck. She didn't know how she was going to hold it together, watching Nick strut out of the bathroom every night, the bathroom that they shared, with only that white cotton towel tied around his hips; his fresh, clean skin begging to be...

'Snap out of it!' Sara mumbled as she rinsed the conditioner from her hair and the lingering soap from her skin. Drying off in the bathroom, she shimmied into her nightgown before exiting. Nick was nowhere to be seen. Sara brushed her teeth and then fell into bed, determined not to think about Nick. And she didn't. She fell right to sleep.

ABSOLUTELY TO BE CONTINUED…and soon, I'm sure.