Title: Eyes Of A Dream
AN: I do not own CSI or any of the characters.
AN 2: This is my first CS story. Slash. Don't like it, don't read. The title of this story was given to me by a friend, to which I owe much thanks on helping me proofread and all that good stuff.
I sit silently at the lab table, finishing the paperwork for the case we just solved. I've always had a problem with domestic abuse cases, and this one was no different. I let my emotions get the best of me. I get tangled up in my past, letting it resurface every time I'm put on these particular cases, which is too often for my liking. I stare down at the sheets before me, unconsciously putting the end of my pen in my mouth, biting it and gazing off into space.
"Hey there. Staying late again, I assume?" Catherine chides. I jump, startled by her presence. I didn't even hear the door open. I look up at her, the deep blue of her eyes swallowing me whole. From the first day I saw her, it was always those eyes that stopped me, roped me in with a magnetic pull. God, she's beautiful. I see her fidget and run a slender finger behind her ear, pushing her hair back as she shifts her weight to her left foot. I was staring, again. Quickly realizing the awkwardness of the situation, I look down.
"Yes…er...I mean no. I just finished. I guess I'll actually be going home tonight."
I can feel her eyes on me, studying me, trying to figure me out. She's tried ever since I walked into this office. That's why she's a CSI. She loves solving puzzles. I feel her hand touch my shoulder, and electricity runs through me, every hair standing up on my body.
"Night, Sidle," she says in a lowered tone, almost husky. I look up at her and smile, my eyes following her as she walks out of the lab and down the hall, noticing the slight sway of her hips. I pack up my bag and head out the back door to my Tahoe, climbing in the seat and starting up the engine. I stare into the distance, catching the headlights of her car as she leaves. It hits me then. Her voice. I had never heard it like that, so intimate, laced with bits of need, almost desperate.
I lay in bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin and curling into the fetal position. I close my eyes, imagining her beside me, my arms wrapped tightly around her smaller frame, and I fall asleep.
"Nick and Warrick, you're with me on a homicide on Sunset Strip, Catherine and Sara, you've got a breaking and entering down on Holland Drive." I watch her sigh from across the table. I know she would rather have the homicide. She has seniority, and she wants it recognized. Nonetheless, she stands up and smiles at me.
"Ready to do this thing, then?" I nod and follow her out to the parking lot. I let her drive. I always do. I like the way she handles the car, her feistiness showing through. I squirm slightly in my seat, not able to stop the dream I had last night from replaying in my head. It's the same dream I have every night. She tells me she loves me, and then she kisses me, taking me past the edges of desire that I have so long dwelled upon. It's passionate, intense, everything I'll never have with her. She senses my nervousness and places her hand on top of my own.
"You alright over there? You seem a little…," she pauses for a second, being careful of her word choice, "uncomfortable."
"Yeah. I'm fine. Just…thinking." She pauses again, not sure if she should continue with her line of questioning. I'm known to be a bit volatile, but she precedes anyway, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"What about?"
"You," I blurt, suddenly becoming aware of what I just said, what I just started.
"Well, then. What about me, Miss Sidle?"
"I had a dream about you last night." She looks at me inquisitively, waiting for me to go on. My mind is racing, and I weigh the options in my head. If I tell her the truth, she could hate me, ignore me, but if I lie, nothing will happen. We'll still be friends, if you could call it that. It seems so easy, like this is a no brainer, but I've never been able to lie to her. Something in her makes me want to tell the truth, make me confess every sin, but how could I ever tell her that I have sex dreams about her, that I love her? I say the first thing that comes to mind.
"You died."
"I died? Huh. Wasn't expecting that. We're here." She slides out of her seat, and walks up to the house, beginning to talk with a police officer standing by the door. I open my door to get out and join her. My hand slips on the lever, and I realize my palms are sweating, my whole body is sweating. I wonder if she noticed.
"Come on, Sara. We've got work to do. Do a perimeter and then join me inside." As I start walking around the house, I wonder. What was she expecting?
We return from the scene, and I head to the lab to get Greg moving on some evidence we found. Fibers, fingerprints. He smiles when he sees me, like always. His school boy crush is flattering and always has been, but I let him down easy every time. I walk to the break room, passing Gil's office, Catherine seated in front of him going over our thoughts from the scene. I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit down in one of the uncomfortable, yellow, plastic chairs. I sip at the hot liquid, thumbing through a forensics magazine that was on the table, getting suddenly lost in one of its articles. I straighten up and shiver as I feel fingertips run from my shoulder down my arm. I don't have to look up to know who it is. I can smell her, the faint hint of lavender mixed with something unknown, something I can't put my finger on. She pours herself a cup of coffee and sits in a chair directly across from me, intrigue slowly creeping into her forming smile.
"So…that's how you really feel about me, huh? You hate me so much you kill me off in your dreams?" She laughs and flashes a smile at me, reassuring me that she's just playing around, but I hear the subtle worry in her voice when she asks the last question, as if she's hoping to God it's not true. I'm taken aback back this. I never realized that she cared what I thought of her, if I liked or, or maybe I just never took the time to notice. I'm always too caught up in work, too caught up in what she thinks of me. I look up and try to smile, but fail, the urge to tell her the truth filling every part of my being. Those eyes, those eyes that devour me are staring right at me. I break.
"I lied," I confess, my body starting to shake. "I didn't dream about you dying." Her eyes widen as she cocks her head to the side.
"Then what did you dream about?" I open my mouth to speak, but just as I do, the door to the break room opens and Grissom pops his head in.
"Catherine, can I speak to you for a moment in my office?" She nods and waits for him to leave. There's a spark in her eye as she walks over to me and leans down, her mouth right next to my ear.
"We'll finish this later, Sidle." I inhale sharply as her hot breath floats across the sensitive skin of my ear, and I turn to look at her as she's walking out the door, a sly grin plastered to her face. She's teasing me, and she loves it. Maybe she already knows what I dream about at night. Maybe she has the same dreams.
I briskly walk into the lab where Greg is seated, his headphones covering his ears as his fingers tap a drum beat on the table. I walk over to him and pull one of the headphones back and let go, letting it snap against his head.
"Ouch! Oh…hey, Sara! To what do I owe this pleasure?" He turns around in his chair to face me.
"Results, Greg."
"Of, course." He hands two sheets to me, and I stare at them as he begins to talk.
"The fibers you found were cotton, most likely from a t-shirt, but I ran the fingerprints through CODIS and got a match."
"The son of the old lady."
"Yup. Apparently, this isn't his first time. Has a record of three prior incidents, all the same thing as what we've got here."
"Well, this looks pretty easy. Amateur. Thanks, Greg."
"Anytime." I walk to a different lab, setting the crime scene photos out in front of me, trying to piece together the whole scenario, but I can't think straight. I can still feel her hot breath, still hear her words…"We'll finish this later, Sidle." I call Brass and tell him about the son. He tells me he'll bring him in for questioning, and I go to find Catherine. She's in the lab with Greg and Warrick, laughing about something. For a brief moment, I stop at my place in the hall and look through the glass window, watching her head fall back as she laughs, watching the way her eyes glimmer, watching her smile. She catches me, and I blush, quickly walking in.
"Uh…hey, Brass is bringing the son in for questioning. He should be here any minute."
"Great. Seems this is pretty much done then. I'll take the interview. Shouldn't be that hard to break him. You wanna start rustling up some paperwork?" I nod and leave to go find the papers, and then take a seat in an empty lab to get to work. I cross my arms on the table and lay my head on them, thinking about what Catherine said and slowly drift into sleep.
"Sara, wake up. Shift's over," Catherine says softly, not wanting to startle me. I raise my head and groggily look around. In the fogginess of my eyes, she seems to glow like an angel. She waits patiently for me to reacquaint with my surroundings and wake up fully.
"Hungry?" she asks, and I can tell she's hoping that I am.
"Yeah, actually, I am pretty hungry." She beams at my words.
"How about we get some breakfast…at my place?" She swallows hard when she sees my eyes widen and my mouth almost drop to the floor.
"Look, I know we haven't been on the best of terms, ever, but don't you think we should at least try?" I stare at her, still not believing she asked me to come over to her house.
"I…my car is in the shop," I manage to say, but as soon as I do, all of her pearly whites flash at me in a huge grin.
"That's alright. You can ride with me. I'll take you home whenever you want. Just get your stuff together and then meet me outback." She turns and walks out of the lab, leaving me there in disbelief and not able to protest. I shove everything into a small briefcase I have and run out to the backdoor in record time, slowing my pace as I walk out, seeing her leaning against her Tahoe, the wind running gentle fingers through her hair. She spots me and hops in the driver's seat, ushering for me to follow. I feel my hands tremble as I open the door, hoping she won't notice my nervousness. We drive in silence, until she speaks, breaking the tension that had quickly filled up the car.
"You never answered my question," she says softly, her voice almost cracking. I don't look at her. I keep my eyes glued to the scenery around me.
"You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do."
"No, really, you don't. It's…it's just wrong."
"Sara…" I start to play with the hem of my shirt, gathering up my courage. It's now or never I tell myself.
"I dreamt about having sex with you, alright? Happy?" I finally look over at her and see her fingers tightly gripping the steering wheel. She nods and says nothing else. We pull into the driveway, and she gets out quickly, me following suit. I come up behind her as she's looking in her purse for her keys. Funny, she just had her keys in her hands when she got out of the car I think to myself. She sticks the key in the doorknob and turns it slowly, carefully, like she's stalling for time, gathering strength. She opens the door gradually, and I follow her, starting to regret telling her the truth.
In a matter of seconds, the door is closed, and I am pushed up against it, her lips quickly finding my own. I tense, but slowly relax into the kiss, my hands finding her hips and resting there. I slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her, wanting more of her. Her hands move up and down my sides and slowly up my shirt. She runs her thumb over my erect nipple, and I moan into her mouth. I begin kissing her neck, smiling as she pulls me closer to her. I nip gently at a spot between her neck and collar bone, feeling myself shiver when she moans. She pulls away slightly and looks up at me; her eyes are dark and filled with desire, a building passion.
"Bed."
She grabs my hand and pulls me with her, leading me upstairs and opening the door to her bedroom. I draw her close to me, breathing in her scent. My lips fervently seek hers, and I kiss her deeply as her hands bury themselves in my hair. I begin to unbutton her shirt, marveling at the new skin revealed to me. My kisses travel down her neck and onto her chest, following my hands.
I let her shirt fall to the floor, and grin slightly as I see her shiver. I can see through her bra that her nipples are hard, and my mouth aches to close around them. I quickly unhook the garment and let it also fall to the floor. My mouth hungrily descends to her left breast, leaving butterfly kisses in a circle around her areola, as my left hand gently massages her other breast. She gasps at the feel of my mouth on her, the feeling of my tongue lightly running over her nipple. She arches her back, forcing herself closer to me, desperately craving more. I let my hands trace down her sides snakily, stopping when they reach the top of her hips. My mouth trails after, leaving feathery kisses along her abdomen. She inhales sharply when my kisses reach the top of her golden curls and squirms in anticipation. I slide my hands up and down her sides, teasing her, making her groan.
"Oh, Sar…please…" She's begging. She wants me. I can't deny her. I run my tongue over her clit, and she bucks her hips up and screams. I suck gently on the bundle of nerves as my fingers find her core. I moan deeply as I feel how wet she is, and I glide two fingers inside of her. She thrusts up and gasps, the pressure inside of her gradually building. I begin thrusting in and out of, my lips still wrapped around her clit, licking and sucking. She pushes down on my back with her hands, forcing me closer to her. I move my fingers faster, harder, feeling her walls tightening up.
"Sara! Oh, God! Sara!" She screams as her nails dig into the soft flesh of my shoulders and she climaxes, her body going rigid. I slow my thrusts, leisurely bringing her down from her orgasm. She tugs on my hair, drawing me up towards her. She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me deeply. She stops to catch her breath, and I realize I'm panting heavily. I roll on my side and pull her close to me, my arms wrapped around her waist. I could lay like this forever, holding her delicate frame in my embrace, wafting in her intoxicating scent. We lay quiet for a long time before she breaks our silence. She turns her head to look me in the eyes, her own starting to tear.
"Sara…my darling Sara. I love you. I have for years. I just never worked up the courage to tell you." I'm startled by her words. I never once thought that this beautiful woman, this masterpiece of perfection could ever love me. I begin to cry, and she wipes away the tears that are falling with her thumb.
"I love you too," I say softly, barely audible. She places a tender kiss on my lips, and I can feel the love flowing in waves from her. We don't speak anymore after that. We lay in silence, listening to each other breathing. Her breathing becomes shallow and steady, letting me know she's asleep. I pull her closer to me, tightening my grip on her. I no longer have to imagine. She's here with me, right beside me. I smile to myself and lay a soft kiss on her cheek before joining her in sleep.
