A gentle hand ran up a toned thigh to feel wetness already coating her fingers. Sofia glanced down to see a curtain of dark hair following the trail her fingers had just caressed and smiled.
The blonde rose up to take lips in a deep kiss, swallowing the gasp as a silky tongue invaded where her fingers wanted to be. Instead, she allowed her own tongue to invade deeper and felt Catherine tremble, as Sara thrust hard.
Maintaining a steady rhythm within Catherine, Sara took a moment to push up on a strong arm to steal a glance at the two women kissing above her. Her heart jumped at the beauty she saw and her body screamed as a lazy hand thrust deep into her.
Sara's breath hitched; at the sound, Catherine pulled away from the kiss, her eyes flying open to stare in wonder at her companions. Her mind raced when she saw what was available to her. Her hands reached out to caress each of the women playing her in their own way, Sara strong but light; Sofia firm but soft.
Her eyes closed again, in heaven, ready to feel.
This was it; this was them, over and around, inside and out. As each of the woman lost sight of who was doing what, of who was playing which tune, of who exactly was loving who, this was it, unconventional, unusual, but undoubtedly right.
Don't Want to Kick It
Slowly and carefully I wake from a drug-induced stupor and I feel absolutely wonderful. It's so good to know my drug of choice has improved in quality.
Where once I woke to drum beats pounding, a raspy throat, the shakes, and much more bad. I always woke empty, alone, disgusted, so very much dead, inside and out.
Now I wake to birds singing, the taste of nectar, pleasantly aching joints, and so many more wonderful feelings. I always wake satiated, complete, wonderful, so very much alive, inside and out.
My vice? My drug? My savior?
My very own Sara Sidle.
Slowly and carefully I wake from a drug-induced stupor and I feel absolutely wonderful.
Last night I had my fill of liquid nectar and yet my head is clear and nausea is the last thing on my mind. Jack Daniels has gone, along with his disgusting sleazy wake-up call.
Now I wake and the sun shines, the birds sing, and breakfast calls. The soft sighs of my bed companion remind me of the drug I have come to depend on so much more than the booze of my past.
My vice? My drug? My savior?
My very own Catherine Willows.
Cool, calm, collected, but occasionally fiery and hot-blooded, blue-eyed blonde, desperately seeking someone to heal a troubled heart. One disgruntled public servant quietly dreaming of the perfect one to make my life complete.
Open-ended time span available on any relationship, preferably for life. Heart ready to be unlocked as of now.
Lissom, lonely and lovable brown-eyed beauty, desperately seeking a blue-eyed blonde holds the key. Needs to be able to ride out any temper tantrums with dry wit and snuggles, and must be able to cope with children's questions.
Over to you, if you match this description and want to take a chance on life, give me a call on 702-456-1566
Unflinching ebony eyes scan read the daily newspaper that had been left on the break room table. Spotting a red circle, the reader took more notice of the written word.
Reaching for a cell-phone, a sly smile crept slowly onto the reader's face. Quickly dialing the number quoted in the advert, a ringing tone was heard. Fingers crossed, connection was achieved. A sharp voice answered, "Willows."
Sara Sidle had never been gladder of a lonely-hearts column than she was right now.
Sometimes she wondered just why she stayed in the damn job.
With a heavy heart, Catherine Willows surveyed the battlefield. Five officers down. One lone gunman shot clean between the eyes.
If it wasn't for her beloved daughter and the need to provide a good safe lifestyle she would be long gone.
A gentle hand caressed her shoulder and a soft voice murmured, "Hey!"
Turning, gorgeous brown eyes showed love and understanding. Sharing a sad smile with Sara Sidle, the women began to process the crime scene.
Suddenly, Catherine knew it was all worthwhile. She had both her girls to keep safe.
One Moment in Time
Sara woke to the sound of gentle snoring from her left. She turned to find her boss's forehead nuzzling against her shoulder and a long, dancer's leg flung carelessly across her own. A contented sigh drew her head to the right. The owner of the tanned arm gently caressing her side smiled in her sleep. Sara closed her eyes content to just stay in the moment. Catherine and Sofia had arrived hand-in-hand over twelve hours ago and the bliss that ensued almost made her year of hell worthwhile.
Lost in thoughts, Sofia's kiss brought her to her senses but it was Catherine's huskily whispered, 'Sara', which brought her home. She'd always known Sofia adored her but now she heard the same adoration in that one word. Nipping Sofia's lower lip, she turned to Catherine sharing a kiss of acknowledgement; nothing could spoil this precious moment in time.
Catherine's tongue duelled lovingly with her own while Sofia stroked up and down her inner thigh. Sara sensed the moment everything changed; just as Catherine thrust deep, Sofia thrust even deeper, the bedroom door opened, and an angry voice called out.
Sara's head whipped upwards as she gave a strangled cry, 'Mrs. Grissom!'
Sara knows the exact moment she fell in love with Catherine. She was not supposed to. They were only having some fun, a way to ward off the tension of their jobs and the tension between them. It happened by accident - when an argument took place in a locked room instead of an open hallway. Their first encounter had been rough and quick but satisfying. Then, they began spending more and more time together, most of it against walls or on couches - almost every encounter a replica of their first. Sara could handle that, could allow herself to believe they were nothing more than they had always been, until Catherine smiled at her and pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. It was a tender moment, one shared between lovers, and Sara melted into the caress, a different type of tension settling into her heart.
No Words To Express
Lindsay appears next to her all zipped up and ready to go, the bullet-proof vest bulky beneath her purple jacket, and Stella feels something clog in her throat as she averts her eyes, the shaking form of Beth Larson momentarily entering her vision, and Stella doesn't even want to consider what Lindsay's about to do.
"Hand me the bag," Lindsay says, yet it sounds more like a question, more like she's asking for Stella's permission to go in there and risk her life and inadvertently Stella's fingers tighten around the handle, refusing to let go even when Lindsay's own hand reaches out to grab the bag from her.
"Please, Stella," Lindsay's voice sounds again and she's pleading, pleading with her words and her eyes and every fibre of her body and Stella just can't resist Lindsay when she's like this, and so she just nods.
When she lets go of the bag, their fingers brush lightly and Lindsay smiles, brightly, one more time, just for her, before turning around and stepping into the building.
Stella swallows hard, but her throat doesn't clear.
In Your Burning Touch
When Danny invites her to dinner, Lindsay's first reaction is to decline, politely, of course, because being alone with Danny is still awkward, but then "just dinner" turns into "just some quality time with friends" because "Stella and the guys are coming as well" and suddenly it's so much harder to say no, and so Lindsay doesn't, smiles and grabs her jacket.
She tries not to flinch when the elevator doors open and Danny presses his hand to the small of her back, pushing her forward slightly, the touch hot and heavy and open for all the world to see.
She fails miserably and Danny has to notice, because he takes his hand away and descends into silence for the rest of the ride.
They meet up with the rest of the team at a small diner where the lights are a dimmed orange and the air is thick with smoke and noises and Mac remarks how whoever chose the place must have been here once too often.
Stella laughs along with him and slides her hand down Lindsay's thigh to her knee, squeezing lightly, and Lindsay feels herself blush, thankful for the half-darkness that hides the color in her face just as the table hides the intimate touch.
If Danny notices, he doesn't say anything but then again he's been silent all evening, hands folded neatly on the table in front of him.
Knowing Your Boundaries
In the cold light of the hospital corridor, Catherine sat on an uncomfortable wooden chair, her head resting against the grey wall. The half-closed blinds of the glass pane across from her allowed her a sketchy view of Sofia. Her posture was less cocky, less confident than usual, almost a little defeated, as she stood beside the bed. In a twisted sort of way, Catherine wished she was the reason for the concern that was visible on Sofia's features even through the barrier of the blinds and in the faint light of the hospital room; she wished it was her hand beneath those gently stroking fingers.
The door opened, and Sofia stepped out, her blue eyes kindly regarding Catherine. "Would you like to see her?"
Catherine shook her head. "You should be with her now, I'll come back tomorrow. Just tell her I said hi. I'll let Brass know you won't be in tonight."
She rose from her chair and walked towards the elevator. It wasn't her time and place.
"I have to do this."
Judging from the troubled expression on her face, she doesn't fully understand my reasons, or they aren't nearly enough in her book.
"Not even he can make you stay." Her sneer barely veils how much I know she's hurting. She bows her head to hide her eyes. For some reason, I've always been able to see behind those clear blue irises easily, she knows that. When I reach for her, my hand connects with empty air as she withdraws.
"The one person who could make me stay would never ask because she's too damn proud." Taking one last look at the fragile beauty that always seems to come from inside of her and still shines even through her sadness, I silence the little voice in my head that screams at me to hold onto her and never let go. Instead, I turn to leave.
When the door closes behind me, I feel like I'm severing a tie, like I no longer have a right to anything on the other side of that door. There are people who stay in a place without waiting to be asked to, but others are just too damn proud and walk away.
Sara traced her fingertips over pale, freckled skin, exposed in sleep. Catherine was a tough woman, but she had her soul painted on her guard. Straightforward and bold, she left people in no doubt what kind of person she was. Sara used to think being open was foolish, that by revealing so much of herself, Catherine was bound to end up crushed sooner or later. It wasn't until recently that Sara realised how much sense the soul as a finish made. Visible to all, it could be touched, scraped, dented - but, merged with the guard, it couldn't be cracked. And while it didn't provide complete safety, Sara envied Catherine because it was more than she'd had as of late. When Natalie stripped her of all armour, she left what lay beneath bare and vulnerable, and Sara hadn't been able to put herself back together, but, perhaps, this was how she ended up here. Grateful in spite of the circumstances, Sara leaned in to kiss Catherine's forehead softly.
Two women stood looking down at three shining colour photographs, detailing the evidence of their most recent case; the prevention of a crime most heinous.
Photograph One: Gilbert Grissom kissing Sara Sidle through ridiculous masks as bees swarmed around their heads.
Photograph Two: Sofia Curtis sobbing uncontrollably at the site of her and Nick's rescue of Sara.
Photograph Three: Sara Sidle and Sofia Curtis with their arms around each other as they flew off to a new life in the Sunshine State.
Wendy turned to Catherine accepting her offered high-five.
The corridors echoed to their united shout of victory.
In Plain Sight
"Oh God, please hurry, I'm here, waiting, ready for you."
Catherine's heart skipped, as the raspy voice she'd been unable to resist continued.
"Want to know what I'm wearing?"
"Well, the leather..."
Minutes later Catherine was hot, ready, her body a tingling mess.
A noise in the hallway brought her frazzled brain to its senses.
"I've got to go, Sofia; see you in 30 minutes."
The door opened just as she dropped the receiver.
"Hey, Babe. Who was that?"
"Oh, no one important, just Gil, I'm needed early tonight. Don't wait up, huh, I might be late."
Sneaking around the morgue during graveyard shift on Halloween should not be this much fun. In fact, it should be illegal. Actually, it probably is, mused Natalia. God only knew; if Alexx caught them like this?
Her thoughts however, were abruptly and deliciously derailed as Calleigh's tongue traced along her jaw and the blonde's hand finished tugging at Natalia's shirt and slipped inside to roam sensitive skin.
How the hell did this even happen? It had been a long, grueling day, filled with more weirdness than the lab had seen since the curse of the coffin, and then...And then Calleigh's thumb was stroking her nipple through the satin of her bra and Natalia managed to unzip the smaller woman's trousers and slipped her hand inside to find the heat waiting just for her, and she stopped giving a damn about how they arrived here.
No, sneaking around the morgue at night should not be this much fun, but you were never going to hear Natalia complaining.
The man slammed the door right in Sofia's face, startling her.
"Let me try." Sara knocked and when the door opened again she began: "Hi. Let's not allow this to escalate into the good cop/bad cop routine because, a) I'm not a cop and b) even though she is," she pointed at Sofia, "I'm pretty sure she'd kick your ass for what you just did. And I'd totally let her."
Taking a moment to reconsider, the man stepped aside letting them in.
"I should kick your ass for this," Sofia whispered in Sara's ear.
Sara shrugged, "You wouldn't find me objecting."
"Mandy." Sara's smile was wide and bright.
"No." The lab tech dismissed Sara smoothly from her seat behind the computer screen.
"I haven't even said anything."
"I'm sure I know why you're here." Mandy looked up at the tall CSI, "You have something that needs to be processed ASAP and you need me to clear the decks for it." Sara's smile grew bigger. "Your charm may work on Hodges, Greg, Archie and Wendy, but not on me."
"Ah come on..." Sara whined then stopped short. "Wait." Suddenly, she beamed again, "It works on Wendy?"
Mandy gave her a deadpan look.
Reaching over, Sara's fingers found a smooth plane of Sofia's naked back. The CSI smiled, her eyes still enclosed in slumber, and moved to snuggle closer to the blonde's lean frame. The detective slept soundly, her lips slightly parted and so very inviting to what Sara craved them for every moment of her waking day. Licking her lips first, Sara dipped her head so she could reach Sofia's face that lay peacefully against the pillow.
"I love you." Sara whispered to the sleeping woman who, Sara hoped, dreamed dreams of her, and then planted a soft kiss against Sofia's temple.
Natalia found it so hard to hide the smile that persistently tugged on her lips. Ever since the petite blonde ballistic expert walked into her lab, Boa Vista was acting like a teenager.
"What's so funny," Calleigh finally asked with an exasperated sigh.
Natalia shrugged with a devilish grin. "Nothing."
Calleigh narrowed her eyes at her colleague, "Is this about what I said to Ryan the other day after three cocktails too many?"
Natalia beamed, "You think I'm cute!"
The blonde's face clouded over. "That boy better learns how to keep his mouth shut before I shut it for him."
Greg and Nick made a bet some time ago. Sanders found it outrageously funny when Nick said Sofia and Sara were 'totally doing it', so they agreed on a bet to make it more interesting.
"What crawled up her ass this morning?" Greg scrunched up his nose at Sara when he saw Sofia swoop past them with all hell's fury.
Only a moment later, Sofia returned, and stepping in front of Sara slapped her across the face.
"What was that?!" Greg gasped.
"That, my friend," Sara stroked the burning cheek, "was the sound of you losing your money."
What I See
They see a woman who is hard headed
They see a woman who is tough
They see a woman who is indifferent
They see a woman who is tainted
They see a woman who is broken
Why do I see Sara so differently from what the others see?
Is It Real?
Is this really happening? I've often heard people say that during a moment of pure emotion they feel as if they are dreaming and will - at any moment - awake to find it wasn't real. I'd always laughed at that, I mean it seemed so ridiculous to think you could truly lose yourself like that. Yes, past tense, because I find myself hoping with every ounce of my being that this is real - that the hands unbuttoning my blouse are really there - that the smoky brown eyes staring into my soul are truly filled with a desire that matches my own.
Comfort, Food, Sex...
Sometimes I feel like you're just using me. For comfort, food, sex... I mean you never really stick around for anything else. I know you don't want anyone to know about our relationship, but sometimes even I wonder if that's what we have. And I guess I'm just as guilty of using you for comfort, food, sex... the difference is I want to stick around. I want to acknowledge the something more we have, not pretend we're close simply because we're two women in tough roles. I don't want a part time lover I want a full-time, full service lover.
"That's not going in there. It's too big!"
"Just relax Sara, that's it. Now, bend your knees a little and I'll push."
"Alright, go ahead. Wait, wait, wait! Ow, dammit! Shit that hurt."
"Are you ok? It's almost in, what happened?"
"I scraped my knuckle."
"Can we finish getting it in?"
"Yeah, come on let's get this done."
"Alright, just a little bit more..."
"God Sofia you suck!"
"That's right and I also lick... I've even been known to bite if asked nicely."
"Yeah, well, as soon as this couch is in place you'll get a chance to prove it."
Alone I often imagine myself as a calm and peaceful lake with my surface reflecting the beauty surrounding me. Tranquil and undisturbed I absorbe the warmth of the sun and provide the perfect canvas for the moon and the stars.
Now I feel I am a lake into which a pebble has been thrown... Once the ripples subside it appears the way it was just moments before, but it is forever changed.
You are the pebble tossed... the ripples created only temporary. And now you live, deep inside of me, and though the ripples may subside... I remain forever changed.
Days like today make me think seriously about changing careers. A fresh scene with plenty of evidence - so fresh that one of the supposed corpses suddenly reanimated. Right as I was about to process her, she blinked. Blinked! I yelled for an EMT and they did their best to revive her. They brought her back for a few minutes, long enough to whisper a name. Long enough to answer yes or no to a few salient questions. Long enough to give a dying declaration and put her killer behind bars. Long enough to leave an indelible mark on my psyche.
Silence In The Hallways
She reached her hand for mine and took it. After all, it was the most natural thing in the world. Smiling she started walking, never loosing eye contact. When I tried to ask her, she put a finger momentarily to my lips silencing me. "Wait. You'll see."
She opened the door to her office with a smile. Her eyes have yet to look anywhere but mine. It was dark, with only a small light coming from the corner. Closing the door she looked me in the eye and whispered "I love you."
I leaned in for a kiss "I love you too."
They're still watching me. I can feel their eyes on my back. And I wanna slug Greg. I make one little slip, and now the whole lab knows. Well, maybe not Grissom; he doesn't know squat when it comes to his own people, but that's not the point. The point is that this morning during my break (and mid-daydream), Warrick comes right up to me, grinning like a bastard, and before I can ask what he wants he nods towards the object of my affection and says,
And what is it with guys, anyways? I just know that if it had been Grissom I'd been lusting after for these past two years, there'd be sympathetic looks and 'romance in the workplace' talks. But because it's her, there are smirks and dares. Does he really think that'll work? And what is with Nick, standing there, like he's flanking Warrick, but as soon as I catch his eye, he's backing off. Smart boy.
When I look back, she's walking towards us, a curious smile on her face, and I just know she's going to ask what's going on.
Greg is so going to pay for this.
I glare at Warrick, and lick my lips, trying to think of something to say, anything, for when the inevitable question comes.
"Warrick, you're with me tonight. You two, go see Grissom. He's got a case for you."
So he follows her out of the lab, and I bite my lip, praying he won't say anything, and wishing he would.
No, Yes, Don't Know
'What do you want to know?'
'I want to know everything.'
'Sofia, I have a 'me' problem.'
'Ok, let's make this easy. I've 20 questions to find out what I want to know. '
'But no and yes must be qualified.'
'Have you ever kissed Grissom?'
'No, wanted to but you know Grissom.'
'Have you ever kissed Catherine?'
'Yes, didn't want to but you know Catherine.'
'Did you enjoy that kiss?'
'Yeah, it was amazing.'
'That's not a yes or no.'
'That's not a question.'
'Will you kiss me?'
'Yes, thought you'd never ask.'
The scene is a mess. Pouring rain both contaminates and destroys, as if the heavens themselves are colluding with the murderer.
I search for Sara, as I always do, and see her crawling through the bushes. Mud and dead leaves cake her legs and a smear of dirt adorns a cheek.
A beautiful drowned rat.
It takes all my self control not to go to her.
Then, as she looks up, our eyes meet. It is the briefest of glances but in that second I see her smile and my resistance crumbles.
Her lips taste of the rain and I rejoice.
Cat, Cath, Catherine. Those names just don't seem to work for me.
She is so much more then her name. I don't even think I can describe it.
As I'm lost in thought, I hear her come in to the locker room.
I see the huge grin that covers her face and finally realize that I did it. I finally found the name that I should have called her from the moment I met her.
Baby. My Baby.
A Good Day
Yesterday I helped put a man on death row. I took the stand and recited the evidence; giving special care to the gore and horror of my findings. I watched the jurors' faces as the pictures I'd taken were paraded before their eyes. Saw the young man twitch, the grandmother cry, the father of two say a prayer. I used the victim's first name. Let my voice crack as I described the blood. Turned to stare at the accused at the most crucial moment.
Yesterday I helped drive a nail into that monster's coffin. It was a good day.
Yesterday I held the woman I love as she fell asleep in my arms. I talked with her, combed my fingers through her hair, marvelled in the intoxication of her presence. Saw her pulse flutter, her lips part, and her hands worship my skin. I called out her name. Heard my voice crack in a moment of absolute pleasure. Finally told her 'I love you'.
Yesterday I made love for the very first time. It was a good day.
Sara leant against the door frame, her shoulders hunched and hair matted, half praying her knock went unanswered. When the door opened she took a step back, her resolve crumbling as she looked into Sofia's sleep weary eyes.
Her courage fled. "I should go." She turned to flee but was stopped by Sofia's demanding hand. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"But you did." Sofia pulled her reluctant guest into the apartment. "Now tell me why."
Sara tried to think of a lie but the truth refused to lay silent, "I slept with Grissom."
Sofia's hand dropped away. "Congratulations."
The air grew cool with disappointment.
"It's won't happen again," Sara told her. "He's all yours."
"I don't want him." She took Sara's hand and led them both into the bedroom. "I'm chasing an enigma of a different kind."
Clothes were abandoned and Sara's smile returned, as they welcomed each other to a new day.