Disclaimer: I have no ownership of CSI or these wonderful ladies.
Summary: Continuation of "One Night Stand"
We silently stare at each other for several minutes until we both notice our state of dress or should I say undress. I reach for my shirt while Catherine dons the towel she was using to dry herself after her recent shower.
I close my eyes as Catherine's face now attaches itself to the perfect body I spent the entire night fucking. Yes, that's right, fucking. There was no tender love making; only what I would describe as the hottest sex I've ever had. Hell, even rabbits would be in awe of the frequency of our coupling. I was an absolute fucking machine, and Catherine was right there with me, taking everything I could give.
Opening my eyes, I realize I am in absolute hell. I can't believe I just had a one night stand with Catherine Willows, the bane of my existence. Not to mention that fact that we have to work together on occasion. How am I ever going to pull that off?
I glance over at Catherine wondering how much she remembers. Maybe her memory is a bit foggy, and she is unaware of any of the specifics. She is looking out the window, and her cheeks can only be described as crimson in color. Oh yeah, she remembers. I would be strutting around her like a rooster if this were anyone else but Catherine.
Okay, something has got to give. We can't sit here all morning ignoring the huge pink elephant sitting in the corner even if it's probably the only location in the room we didn't properly christen.
Maybe I should just get my things and leave. Catherine is obviously not going to acknowledge what happened. I guess we could try to pretend this encounter never occurred; though, it's a little difficult to ignore, seeing as how we're both covered in bites and hickeys. By the looks of Catherine's neck and chest, she's going to have to wear high neck shirts and scarves for at least a week. I don't think she will be able to place the blame on a Hoover vacuum attack.
As for myself, I can easily hide the scratches on my back and shoulders, but my arms and neck will be a little more difficult. Maybe I can put in for some of my little used vacation time. I think a week will be a sufficient amount of time for my 'war wounds' to heal.
Catherine's voice suddenly fills the silence of the room as she says "What am I going to do? I can't go home. My mother and Lindsey can't see me like this. I look like a wanton whore."
I stop myself from telling her that she really was quite the wench last night when I notice how truly upset she is. I button my shirt and put on my jeans without bothering to retrieve my underwear. I guess I'm going commando today.
I walk toward Catherine as her head snaps up to mine. Her eyes are filled with tears, and she bursts out crying as I draw her near. I hold her close and whisper nonsensical nothings in her ear.
After several minutes, she has stopped crying, but she is still holding onto me for dear life. It's not quite the same hold she had on me several times last night, but I do believe I provided the necessary anchor both then and now.
I softly say "Catherine, why don't you call your mom and tell her you are caught up in a case and can't come home?" She pulls away from me and smiles. "That's a good idea, Sara. Let me give it a try." Hey, who knew this communication thing really works even if I'm giving her tips on how to lie to her mother and daughter.
I try to locate my boots while Catherine talks on the phone. Now where the hell can they be? Catherine hangs up the phone and asks me what I'm looking for. I explain that I can't find my boots, and she instantly turns red before pointing me toward the bathroom.
Frowning, I head into the bathroom and find my boots under the sink. Finally, the light in my brain switches on. It seems we were trying for a "Fatal Attraction" kitchen scene re-enactment using the sink. I shudder when I remember how hard Catherine came.
I exit the bathroom and find Catherine lying in the bed with the sheets pulled up. It's a sin for that body to be covered, but my ravaging time is over. I sit on the end of the bed and begin to put on my boots while asking Catherine about her conversation with her mother.
Catherine replies "It went very well. I had forgotten Mom was taking Lindsey to Montana for the week to visit relatives. They were on the way to the airport when I called. Lindsey was so excited; she wasn't even upset that I wasn't there to see her off."
Bending over to tie my laces, I say "Well, that's good to hear. I think I'm going to take a little vacation myself. I think four or five days off should do it."
Catherine's voice sounds very close as she says "What do you mean by the days off should do it?" I lift up to answer and come shoulder to shoulder with Catherine. She has crawled down to the end of the bed on all fours. Her shoulders and head are facing the end and are in perfect alignment with mine.
Oh man, what a position. I don't think we managed to get to the 'all fours position' last night. What a shame. I wouldn't have minded getting off on her nice, hot ass.
I shake my head to clear my lewd thoughts as Catherine whispers in my ear "Hey, Sara. Want to take a shower and get wet with me?" I quickly spring from the bed to see if she is teasing me. One look in those eyes, and I know she's serious.
I smile as I kick off my boots, rip my shirt from my body, and peel off my jeans. I pull her from the bed as I take possession of her mouth. I walk us backwards until we're next to the shower. Reaching over, I turn on the water as I lift Catherine into the tub.
My last thought as I step under the water with Catherine is that I hope these tiles aren't too slippery when wet.