Thank God for Cosmo
Disclaimer: Jorja's gone, and Sara and Catherine never got a proper goodbye. Clearly, I don't own CSI.
AN: I give CSI Barbie A LOT of credit for this. She planted the idea, and made damn sure I watered it. Thanks girl, this one is for you.
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It was bad enough that I had to be stuck in a car with her for two hours during our drive, but now I have to endure a ridiculous wait for the assistant coroner. It has already been over three hours, and while this isn't an abnormally long amount of time to have to wait, something in me is telling me it will be much longer before David graces us with his presence. My previous notion that a place like this would be peaceful is effectively quashed by the restless movements of the other woman in the room with me.
I hit the back of my head against the front of the counter and look up to find Catherine still pacing the length of the small convenience store, careful to avoid the small preponderance of blown-apart potato on the floor. I take the excess time we're been given to observe her.
Her full lips are slightly pushed out into a pout that I am sure she is unaware she's wearing. Her cheeks are painted with a faint pink hue that I didn't know whether to blame on her constant movement, or on some unknown thought circulating through her mind. Her short blonde hair is half-way shielding the hand she has placed on the back of her neck from my gaze. Her brows are almost imperceptibly furrowed, and I am positive there is no way that I would have noticed if it weren't for the fact that I have spent every day for the last five months subtly taking in every single one of her features.
I am quick to push my not-so-new found interest in Catherine to the back of my brain by slipping my eyes shut and hitting my head back against the counter yet again, although I am sure that with my recent preoccupation, I'd be quick to develop a substantial bump in the place my flesh contacted the smooth wall. I can already feel the tenderness.
Apparently this particular thud has caught Catherine's attention, because when I lifted my eyelids again, I find that the blonde has paused directly in front of me, and is looking down into my eyes, unreadable emotion in her own.
"Is there a particular reason you are trying to wear a hole in the counter with your skull, or is that just how you like to pass the time?" I try to judge her mood from the sarcastic question, but all I can get from her is boredom and a desire to leave that rivals my own. I'm debating an equally sarcastic retort, but for some reason today, I'm just too tired. Instead, I shrug.
"Just bored, I guess. Aren't you?" I raise my hand to the side of neck and press lightly, trying to loosen the knot that has come from my stagnant sitting position. She doesn't answer me, not that I really need an answer to know, so I look up and watch Catherine's eyes follow my hand, and I feel the corner of my mouth twitch up. She's watching me? But the thought leaves as quickly as it came. How absurd? I need to stop thinking about this. I turn to the left in search of something to distract me. I see a rack of magazines just almost out of reach, but I reach out and am able to get my fingers around one on the very edge. I pull it from it's perch and flop it into my lap. Of course, Cosmo. I'm just about to flip it open when Catherine's voice stops me.
"Look, Sara, about earlier," she starts, and I can tell she's having trouble getting whatever it is out. Perhaps why she was blushing earlier? I wait quietly for her to start again, and after a moment, she does. "I didn't mean what I said like it sounded." When she finishes speaking, her shoulders rise and fall in a small huff, like she's satisfied that she was able to finish her sentence. It takes me a moment to recall what she's talking about. Oh! The comment about me not caring about my appearance. I think for a moment, then decide to play with her.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Cat." I keep my face as straight as possible, holding in the laugh I feel rising when her face falls. She struggles to form more words.
"About… the mirror. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like you don't care about what you look like." I can tell she's working herself up into a babble, but I find it much too cute to try and stop her. "I just want you to know that I don't think that. I think you're beautiful. You always-" I know she's still talking, but I'm stuck on her small confession. She thinks I'm beautiful? Catherine 'you'll-have-to-take-a-ticket-and-for-wait-your-turn' Willows thinks I'm beautiful? I can already feel the heat in my cheeks, and I try to focus back on Catherine.
"-listening anymore." With her finals words, she finally reclaims my attention and an entirely new blush covers my cheeks at the realization that she has caught me. "Did you hear any of that? Here I am apologizing and you can't even-" I consider cutting her off, but I wait for my moment. "-bother hearing it?
A smug grin crosses my lips as I open my mouth to speak. "No, I heard you loud and clear, Catherine. You think I'm beautiful." I wait for some reaction; a loss for words, or a tell of her embarrassment, but it never comes. Instead, her smirk matches my own.
"You seem awfully pleased by that. Any particular reason?" Touché. Ever-confident Catherine is unphased. I want to throw it back, but all I can think of is how sexy she looks with her hip cocked to the side, fingers gracefully gripped around it, and just a hint of skin showing. I struggle to block out the images I know (from experience, I might add) are coming, and throw out a lame response.
"Apology accepted." I sigh, and an unmistakable feeling of defeat settles upon me. I see, rather than hear, her small laugh and she turns down one of the many aisles in the store. Well, I suppose that's that then. I shake my head and mumble to myself. Apology accepted? How about 'I know what else you could do to please me'? That would have been much better. I let out a heavy sigh and look back down to the magazine still resting in my lap. Not like there's much else to do. I pull back the cover and startto flip through the pages, only half-heartedly taking in their content. 'Bad skin day? Find out what's messing up your face', 'Facts all men wished their girlfriends knew'. I scoff and shake my head. The things people spend time reading these days. My mind wanders back to the woman now aimlessly walking through the aisles, and how amazing her jeans made her ass look. No, Sara. No. Back to Cosmo. I force my focus back to the magazine in my hands and try pass more time absent-mindedly flipping through pages. It's only more of the same frivolous crap. I just wish David would get here. I'm finding it more and more difficult to be in such close proxy to Catherine. I should have known going in, but I thought I had better will-power.
I turn another page, but before I have the chance to pretend to read it, I sense someone's eyes on me. When I look up, I find Catherine back in the same position from before.
"Can I help you, Cat?" I ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable under her unreadable gaze. She drops her arms to her sides and gives a small smile and shrug.
"Mind if I join you?" She asks, but doesn't give me time to reply before she's taking a seat next to me. The limited length of the counter forces her to scoot closer to me in order to be able to lean back against it, and I am definitely not going to protest. Her gaze falls to my lap, and before I can think anything of it, I remember the open magazine there. I hear a chuckle come from her and my curiosity forces my gaze to join hers.
'20 mind-blowing sex positions sure to leave him begging for more'
I felt my cheeks redden. Damn, I need to stop doing that.
I look back to Catherine, but she seems to be absorbed in the article. Not that she needs to be. I'm sure the woman is a sex-goddess. She doesn't need help from a magazine.
Proving my assumption correct, I hear her laugh again and speak.
"Oh, this one may be simple, but it's very fun." Her finger goes out to point to whichever position she meant and I reacted without thinking.
"Not like I would know." The small snort leaves me before I can stop it and I quickly find myself eye-to-bright blue eye with Catherine. She wastes no time jumping on my unintentional opening.
"Come on, you can't tell me you've never done that. Everyone has done that." I can see the skepticism in her eyes, and I figure that she thinks I'm lying out of embarrassment. "We're both women, Sara, you don't have to be embarrassed." She sounds sincere, and I am honestly taken aback by it.
Might as well. I tell myself it's not a big deal, and I respond honestly.
"Well, Cat, it's kinda hard to do that when neither party involved has the right equipment." I emphasize my statement by clearly indicating the male stick-figure in the illustration. I wait. I can see the cogs turning in her head as she replays my comment in her head. Then understanding washes over her features.
"You're a lesbian?" The question is even, curious, and pleading. The last part confuses me. I don't understand why she would care.
"Yeah, Cat. That doesn't bother you, does it?" I wouldn't take her for someone who takes something like sexuality so seriously, but at this particular moment, I find myself paying closer attention to her than I ever have. I desperately need to know what she's thinking.
Her answer seems to be much too slow in coming to me, but I can tell, with the haste in which it's given, that much less time has passed than I think.
"God, no, of course not, Sara. Not at all." She puts her hand on my thigh and I suddenly find it hard to think. "Why would you think that?" She's asking me to explain my thinking? I can't do that for myself right now. I attempt to answer her, but eyes are acutely focused on her hand.
"I.. I, just… well, some people are uncomfortable…" I trail off, not quite sure how to finish my sentence. I watch as the hand slides further up my thigh and my throat constricts ever-so-slightly.
"Do I seem uncomfortable to you, Sara?" Her voice is much too close, and I realize that she is leaned into me, whispering in my ear. How did I not notice her chest on my shoulder?
Catherine has me on complete sensory overload and I can barely keep up with her. I am trying to focus on the individual sensations she is giving me: the feel of her breath on my neck, the sound of her low now-husky voice in my ear, the heat of her palm on my leg, but it's becoming increasingly harder to differentiate. I am surrounded by Catherine.
I choke out a response, determined to not let her get the best of me if this all turns out to be just another way to one-up me. "No, Catherine. You seem to make yourself comfortable wherever you are."
She leans in further, and her lips nearly brush my ear as she speaks.
"Is that an invitation to make myself comfortable here?" I feel the tip of her tongue trace the shell of my ear and the shudder that runs through me loudly announces that the battle has been lost.
"Oh god." My eyes flutter closed of their own accord and I ball my hands into fists. I push them into the hard linoleum floor and will the coolness of the tiles to travel up through my arms and lower my own temperature, which I am sure has skyrocketed within the last minute. I feel Catherine's hand rise from it's place on my thigh and I open my eyes again, feeling the loss.
I look over to see what's going on, and I find Catherine kneeling by my side. Her eyes are dark, and I am only half-surprised to see the lust lingering there.
She has yet to move again, and I find myself desperately wondering what's going on in her head. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, and she seems to take it as some sort of cue, because in the next instant, she has tossed the magazine across the floor, swung a leg over my lap and is straddling me.
I fight to find my voice, and the breathlessness doesn't surprise me at all when I finally speak. "Cath? What are you doing?" I gulp audibly, anxious and excited at our new-found position.
"Oh, I think you know what I'm doing, Sara." She scoots her body back, perching herself on my knees. Her hands fly to the button of my pants, and I hear the zip so soon afterwards, I wonder how she can manage so quickly.
"Jesus christ, Cat." I am reduced to expletives in a matter of seconds, as I feel her hand slip inside my panties. I bite back a moan when I feel her fingertips playing with my dark curls. I don't know how much more of this I can take, and she's only just begun. I groan at her slow pace, and she lowers her fingers further into my underwear.
"Damn, Sara. You're already this wet?" She meets my eyes, and the glint in them sends yet another shiver down my spine. I bite my lip, not quite sure if I want her to know I've been in this state since we arrived at the scene, but she seems to already be past it. Her free hand rests on my right hip and she presses softly into my mound.
"Fuck, Cat. Please." I don't care that I'm begging. I've already come to terms with the extent to which I'd would go for Catherine Willows, and begging is something I've thought over. Her eyes haven't yet left mine, and I seriously hope she can see my neediness in them. I've never felt this ready for anything in my life.
After a moment of indecision, she acquiesces and slides her fingers into me. The feeling of being filled by Catherine is better than I have ever imagined. A moan that wasn't supposed to escape from me fills the room and through my hazy eyes, I can see Catherine's satisfied grin. She's enjoying this nearly as much as I am. When she pulls her fingers back out, she curls them and hits just the right spot. She pushes them back in, picking up her pace, and repeats the movement.
"You feel so good, Sara." I am struggling to hear her words, as the building pleasure in the pit of my stomach is threatening to spill over.
"God, Cat, so close." I pray my words make more sense to her than the mumbling I hear in my head. I know I'm babbling at this point; she has me so close to the edge.
I am just about to fall into ecstasy when a single word crashes down around me, bringing reality with it.
"David."
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To Be Continued
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