DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer.
CHALLENGE: S for strip, suck, smug, struck, slick, slip, string, sex, snip, snap, strap-on... No. But S for a few stories I've named Stuck, with some variations, then there was Slice and then there was Split. And in my head at least they're all Strung together, like a Series if you like. But then again, they can all be read Separately as well I guess, but I wouldn't recommend it.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Stick
By L.
Stick around, baby, we're not through,
Don't look for me, I'll see you
~ Bob Dylan, When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky
Catherine Willows entered her kitchen with a huge yawn, rubbing her eyes, dressed in a pink tee screaming "Money played in VEGAS Stays in VEGAS" left behind by Wendy some time ago, a lifetime ago. She leaned on her kitchen sink, gazing out the window to the street outside. "She's gotta be joking," she muttered and slipped on a pair of flip-flops and walked out her front door.
Sofia Curtis was sitting slumped down in her car with the radio playing some stupid song, writing frantically in a notepad. She didn't notice Catherine until a tap-tap-tap on her roof made her jump.
"Jesus, Catherine, you scared the shit outta me!"
"I'm putting on a fresh pot."
And with that Catherine turned and headed back to her house.
Sofia Curtis stepped through the front door and tentatively looked around. She took yet another few careful steps in, peeking round the corner into the kitchen where Catherine was busy with the coffee machine. She continued to the living room where she stopped and checked out the sofa and the book case and the photos and all the other stuff scattered about. Catherine came up behind her and held out a steaming cup.
"You want the big tour? You want every little detail of where and when and how?"
Sofia took the mug and blew in it.
"Investigate the scene of the affair, the crime scene?" Catherine coughed and sat down on the couch, letting her eyes wander the room. "Pretty much every flat surface is contaminated, I believe..."
She looked hard at Sofia trying hard not to look.
"How did you put it?" she smiled, "us here together in the same room, you are the other person, we all together now."
She sipped her coffee and grinned at the startled Sofia, "What? I know these things. I pay attention. And you'll have to admit it'd be pretty hot."
"For a fantasy, I guess."
Catherine yawned again and continued, "You know at first, I only took her here for short romps, and never when Linds was around. But then, with everything that happened and later, when Gil went away? I figured what the hell, I'll give it a try, I offered my pièce de résistence; I let her stay the night. I let her stick around for breakfast, the whole domestic nine yards... Much good that did."
"You love her."
Catherine didn't answer at first, simply sipped her coffee.
"Yeah."
"And she loves you."
Catherine shrugged, "Maybe. She loves you."
"Not enough."
"Enough for what? She was there, wasn't she? It was you who took off, and besides..." She stood and walked over to Sofia.
you said you'd never hurt her, you told her you'd always love her, you promised, baby, you promised
Sofia gasped and stumbled back, how...?
"What? I told you I know these things, and Curtis? She told me everything," she nodded to Sofia's shake to her head. "Uh-hu. Ev-ery-thing. Hilarious, really, you two in that self-righteous cocoon of silence and secrets, only to leave your back doors wide open for someone like me."
She took her now empty cup out to the kitchen, leaving Sofia stranded in the middle of her living room.
"Enough with the chit-chat. I'm wired and tired like you wouldn't believe and I'd like to get this over with," she stepped real close to Sofia and looked her squarely in the eye. "What exactly have you been scribbling in that pad of yours, what are your plans for me, huh? What have you been plotting with your hand down your pants, staring at my window?" She rubbed her nose to Sofia's and whispered, "I know. These. Things."
With a tired sigh she retreated a few steps, "God, you dykes are so EASY."
She looked Sofia over, up and down, assessing her.
"You wanna hit me again, is that it? Did you bring your nightstick this time? Maybe smack me around with that? What else did you bring... Huh? You packing? No? Cuffs? You wanna tie me up, slap me around, fuck me, do me real good? Is that it?"
Sofia Curtis flinched and looked away.
Catherine circled her and took a weary breath, "Because I deserve it, don't I? It's all my fault, ain't it? The white trash bitch? I bet you wanna show the slut, make the whore pay?"
Catherine couldn't help but laugh when Sofia blushed and avoided her gaze.
"What, too vulgar for'ya, detective?" punctuating each word with a pointed finger to Sofia's chest, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, "I'm too rude, too crude for'ya, Little Miss Starched Ironing Board?"
Her hand brushed Sofia's exposed throat, trailing its way up to her face where she traced Sofia's nose and lips with a soft and surprisingly steady finger, "I've wanted to do that since the very first time I laid my eyes on you..."
She sighed and closed her eyes and sat down on the couch, exhaling slowly, then added calmly, "I bet this turns you on. I bet you're so hot right now you can hardly breathe. I bet you'd crash inside if I told you my cunt is so wet it's almost not funny... Well, that joke isn't funny anymore... Do what you're here to do, then it's bye-bye. I'm too old and ti-"
"When I'm lost," Sofia interrupted, "simple juxtapositions feel like sense, like truth feels."
"What?"
"That's what you said, wasn't it?" She sat down next to Catherine. "I've nearly gone mad thinking about that, trying to figure it out, but you know what?"
Catherine shook her head.
"For all your talking... You talk and talk and talk... Throwing in the odd riddle, loaded with meaning, challenging us to take you up on it? But Cath, listen? I really can't stand games or challenges... I can't. Oh, I don't know, I've read you all wrong. I've read it all wrong."
Catherine stared at her with her mouth open. Sofia looked right back with a sheepish smile, and then she shrugged.
"Oh, man," Catherine said and rubbed her eyes. "I'm so tired..."
"Okay."
"Will you stay? I mean, do you plan on sticking around?"
"I'm here now. Right here. Right now."
"That I can work with."
The End