Vertigo
Summary: "The lights go down and all I know is that you give me something I can feel."
Author: CODIS
Rating: M
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Lindsay Monroe.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I know, I know. I haven't updated my current WIP. But please don't kill me. Writer's block is a bitch. And I had another plot bunny running rampant in my head, just waiting for me to dish it out. And so here it is.
Reviews would be lovely, thank you.
This is dedicated to Jess :) I really hope you like this. Thank you for everything!
Oh, and I love U2. Bono is the shizz.
Enjoy!
Lindsay had let out a faint moan as the sun peered through the large window, its thick streaks caressing her face, boasting the start of a new day. Yawning, she rolled herself over and stretched her arm out. Oddly enough, this side of the bed was nice and cool. She lifted her head up, seeing that she was the only occupant on the humongous bed, the other side completely undisturbed. She let out a frustrated sigh, and let her head drop back down on the crumpled pillow. This confirmed her suspicions that Mac didn't come home last night. Again.
Now at the lab, Lindsay briskly walked down the familiar hallway, fire flashing in her whiskey-colored eyes and determination pumping through her veins. Every time the team came across a new case that shook Mac up, he'd plunge in head first, losing himself completely in it until justice was served. And Lindsay admired that about him, she really did. It's one of the many reasons why she fell in love with the man. But sometimes, his diligence wore her—not to mention the rest of the team—out. Sometimes enough is enough. And Lindsay Monroe-Taylor has had enough.
When she reached his office, she burst through the glass door, opening her mouth, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but when she saw his sleeping form curled up on the brown leather couch in a rather uncomfortable position, she stopped herself, and moved closer to inspect him. He was a right mess. His clothes were wrinkled, and hair was disheveled. Her eyes darted to his face, and she frowned upon seeing it. His eyebrows were furrowed, almost as if he was angry, and a scowl marred his usually handsome features, the lines forming at the corners making him look older than he was. Even in his dreams, he wasn't able to find any sort of peace.
Lindsay crouched down next to him, the back of her hand brushing against the warm skin of his cheek. Mac groaned softly at the contact, and stirred. His fingers lazily intertwined with hers, and his eyelids fluttered open, his sparkling blues still glazed from his short, but deep slumber.
He smiled sleepily. "Hey…" he mumbled, tucking a stray honey colored curl behind her ear. "Good morning."
"Wish I could say the same," Lindsay thought bitterly.
She watched as the older man pushed back the dark colored dress jacket used as a makeshift blanket and straightened to a sitting position. He arched his back and stretched his arms, bones cracking with little effort.
He blinked rapidly a few times, scratching the side of his head. "God, the sun is out. What time is it?"
"Early," Lindsay bit out, which in turn caused Mac to quirk a toffee-colored brow in question.
"Something wrong?" he inquired.
The junior investigator shook her head. "Not in the slightest," she replied. She quickly turned away from him. "I brought you some fresh clothes ,your toothbrush and some toothpaste," she mumbled, zipping and unzipping her bag, placing the folded pile at his lap. Mac accepted this, but he kept his eyes straight on her, studying her.
"You're upset," he deadpanned.
Lindsay sighed, eyes glued shut. "Yes. A little." She took his hand with hers. "You haven't been home in three days, Mac."
"We've already spoken about this, Lindsay," Mac replied sternly.
She tightened her hold on him. "I know, I just…I'm really starting to worry about you."
Mac exhaled sharply through his nose. "I know…" he repeated, eyes fixed upon the carpet. "I don't want to do this, but that maniac is still out there, Lindsay. It's my job to find him."
"And I get that," Lindsay assured him. "Mac, I completely understand that you're dedicated. I know you really want to catch this guy. Believe me, we all do. But this… this isn't healthy, honey. You'll run yourself six feet under the ground if you keep going at the pace that you're going. And then where will we be? You need to calm down. Take things one step at a time."
"You're right…" he conceded. Yet there was that glint of tenacity twinkling in his eye. He wasn't going to going to give up. "…but…I'm…" he paused, feeling as if he'd break her heart. "I'm sorry, I…I have to do this."
Lindsay nodded solemnly. It was times like these she wished the man weren't so damn stubborn. It sounded selfish, but all she wanted was her husband back home where he belonged.
"Oh, Mac Taylor," she sighed, running her free hand through his mess of hair. "What am I to do with you?"
He smiled a little sadly, and then planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. Quickly changing the subject, he spoke. "Go and get yourself a cup of coffee from the break room. You look like you could use one."
Lindsay stuck out her tongue at him. "You're not the one staying up all night worrying yourself sick over your husband, now are you?" she retorted, playfully poking him in the side.
Mac laughed softly. "Just go. I'll be there in a few."
"Fine," she huffed, wrinkling her nose in distaste. She stood up from her crouched position, and left the glass box of an office to go to the break room. When she arrived, Stella was already there, and she plopped down on a seat next to hers.
"I know that look," Stella chirped, the sound of paper rustling as she unwrapped her bacon, egg and cheese McMuffin. "I take it Mac didn't go home last night?"
Lindsay shook her head, currently studying the silver band that adorned her ring finger. "Third night in a row." She shrugged. "This case has been hitting him pretty hard lately."
"It was a quadruple homicide; a family of four. It'd hit anyone pretty hard," Stella mused, before taking a bite of her breakfast.
"True, but…I just want him back, you know? Every time a case like this pops up, that's all he thinks about, all he talks about. It's really starting to get to me."
"You knew what you were getting yourself into when you married the man, Linds." Stella said, looking at her. "Thought you'd be used to it by now."
"I thought I would too." Lindsay crossed her arms over her chest, frowning like a petulant child. "Mac just needs to learn how to relax. Unwind a bit. Make him forget about the case for a while." Then suddenly, the proverbial light bulb floated above her head with an idea and a devious smile spread across her face. Her chocolate orbs danced with mischief. "And I know just how to do that."
"Oh, this should be good," Stella quipped, before Danny and Hawkes stormed in.
"Grab your gear," Danny said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Mac wants us back at the crime scene, pronto."
"What?" Stella queried incredulously, her voice raised two octaves. "We've searched the place about a hundred times. We've gotten nothing."
"Well, he wants to make sure we didn't miss anything." Hawkes replied. "You know Mac. Making us triple check our work."
"He's insufferable, that's what he is," Stella grumbled as she got her kit. She turned to Lindsay, ire ever present in her emerald hues. "Whatever it is you've got planned for your husband, I hope to God it works."
"Don't worry," Lindsay said, following closely behind her partner with her kit in tow."I'm positive it will."
Later that night…
The Crime Lab had cleared out quickly. Lindsay was standing outside of Mac's office, alone, looking at him. The man was practically hunched over his damn desk, his hand gripping a pen, scribbling furiously. Paperwork is a bitch, and Mac had been so behind on it, the stack of papers that had been neatly placed at the edge of his desk nearly towered over him.
Sighing, she opened the door, poking her head in. "Mac."
She saw his russet head snap up immediately. His sparkling pools of blue swam up to meet with hers. A tired smile graced his lips. "Hey. Come on in," he said, with a wave of his hand. And she did, quickly closing the door behind her. She took the steps necessary to get to him. Working her way around his desk, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You busy?" Lindsay asked, eyes fixed on his computer screen.
Mac sighed, gesturing to his cluttered desk. "A bit, yes." He turned in his chair to look at her, rocking back softly. "Why?"
Lindsay shrugged. "I thought maybe…we could go home, make some popcorn and watch Taxi Driver, cos I know it's one of your favorites," she offered. "Help you relax a little bit, take your mind of the case."
"It's tempting," Mac chuckled. Then he frowned a bit. "As lovely as that sounds right about now, I don't see that happening tonight." He looked back down at his paperwork.
She knew it wouldn't work.
Lindsay smirked. "I figured as much," she said, before turning on her heels and heading toward the exit. Mac opened his mouth to protest, but when he saw her mess with the blinds, the protest died. Then the questions surfaced.
"What are you doing, Linds?" Mac asked, the office suddenly encased in semi darkness. He was honest to god curious.
"Helping you relax," the feisty brunette replied as if it was the most obvious thing.
Mac quirked an eyebrow. "And how is shutting the blinds going to do that?"
Her inner self cackled wickedly. "You'll see."
The junior investigator sashayed back around his desk, and took him by the hand. Forcing him out of his seat to a standing position, she guided him to the couch, and pushed him back on it, the rough fabric of his slacks sliding on the leather.
"I don't understand," Mac said, eyebrows furrowed.
Lindsay said nothing as she kneeled in front of him, and her fingers toyed with his belt buckle.
Mac's breath hitched. "Lindsay…wha—"
"I knew you wouldn't come home with me tonight," she interjected as she teasingly opened it, popping the button of his slacks and pulling the fly down.
"But…" he exhaled, her touch forcing uncontrollable responses from his lower regions.
"But," she continued, rubbing his now prominent erection through the thin material that was his boxers. "I was determined to help… you loosen up. You've literally given me no choice but to do it here."
"You don't have to—"
"Oh, you don't understand, Taylor," she purred, her palm stretching and pressing right against his aching hardness, sliding it slowly up and down where he let out a deep moan. "It's my job. Now just sit back…relax…and enjoy."
And then Lindsay bent her head down and took him in her mouth.
Mac groaned, loudly, as Lindsay used her tongue to lick the tip of him, and around the sides. Her hands moved up and lightly gripped his waist while she continued to move her mouth slowly up and down his silk like flesh. A myriad of sensations crashed over him in waves, and suddenly stars began to explode behind his eyes and his whole world twisted and turned and morphed in a wide variety of color.
Bliss.
He blinked his eyes rapidly, as his surroundings began to move around him in a whirling motion. "Linds…room…spinning…" were the only words he managed to spit out, and he let his head fall back again while his fingers tangled themselves in her mess of curls. It was heavenly beyond words . "Dizzy…"
She chuckled around him and pulled back from him with a soft "pop". "I'm good, but I'm not that good, Taylor."
"I never said you could stop did I?" he growled, forcing her head back down on his still throbbing erection and she chuckled again as she took him whole into her mouth again. Another loud groan escaped his mouth and he lifted his hips, jerking toward her, urging himself deeper inside as he once again gripped her by her hair. It just felt so ridiculously good.
A tingling sensation pooled at the pit of his stomach and then he knew he was close. Lindsay moaned around him, and the vibrations sent a shiver up his spine. She started to move around him faster, her tongue licking up his length and her mouth sucking vigorously. One good lick, and she'd have him.
She felt his body stiffen, and then trembled as the pleasure shot through his system and his liquid heat rushed through her. Mac tilted his head back again, staring at the ceiling, let out a long exhalation, his moan masking the sound of his ragged breathing as he achieved his release. And it was that moment that the door suddenly flung open, and in came Stella.
"I knew I left that file in here," she mumbled, waltzing on over to Mac's desk, and picking up a manila folder. She walked right back toward the exit, but stopped momentarily, and stared back at the two CSI's, who, for lack of a better word, were shocked.
Stella smirked at their compromising positions. "As you were," she said, and then ran out the door.
FIN.
Definition of Vertigo *according to Google*
1. The sensation of dizziness.
b. An instance of such a sensation.
2. A confused, disoriented state of mind.
Vertigo is often caused by damage or disease in the inner ear. But I believe that even a great blowjob will do that to a person. LOL! xD Thanks for reading!
