A/N - Hello, readers. I wasn't planning on writing a trequel to SB but I figured why not. I love making my readers happy and it gave me an excuse to experiment with my writing style before moving on to other ffs. Have fun reading.
Disclaimer: Thanks CBS for letting me play around with the CSI universe for a little while. I will return them safe and sound when finished.
The warm light from Catherine's desk lamp shivered on every surface it touched as the shadows from the white stucco ceiling played tag with her and Sara's quickly moistening skin. They had been waiting all night for a brief moment where they could be missed from their busy schedules and, finally, after several hours the moment had arrived.
Hurriedly, the blinds were closed in an effort to maintain some semblance of privacy before Catherine had managed to slam Sara up against the door with a hard shove. Her answering groans reverberated throughout the small office space as she struggled to regain control of the situation that was rapidly descending into a mess of chaotic sexual energy.
Their clothes were off in seconds; Sara's spindly fingers became active against the black and blue remnants of their last time together. Catherine could feel the effect of Sara's fingers as the pulsating inflamed gashes caused a flood of blood to wash upon the vast shore of her back. Catherine moved off of Sara's heaving body in order to inspect the damage, but found herself paralyzed as those eyes stared back at her.
A heavy silence weighed over the two women. It was heightened by the unbearably loud whispers of their collected breathes as they tried to regain some control over the beast they had unleashed in the small office. If they both had their way, Catherine would have slung Sara onto the top of the desk without further ado but, they both knew that was irresponsible to say the least. Imagine the shocked faces of the cleaning ladies as they came in for their daily rounds of the various offices as they opened the door to Catherine's office. The cracked and slightly slung over bookcase would be the intro as their eyes roved toward a mutilated patent leather sofa and the broken blinds struggling, and mostly failing, to remain connected to the windows.
It was embarrassing enough to be fucking the Bugman's wife. When Catherine was alone with her thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder what he felt when his hands ran along Sara's slender figure when they, supposedly, made love. Did he ever feel absolutely breathless as his hands traced small patterns into her thighs as he listened to her muffled sighs of exhausted pleasure? Did he ever feel a secret thrill when he began to realize his fingers were designed to fit into Sara's locks to open her troves of pleasure for him, and only him? Did he ever want to melt into her body after another night of spectacular sex?
Catherine had no idea what Grissom's answers to these questions were; she honestly didn't care as Catherine felt Sara's eyes slowly stroll up her flushed and bruised body. Each of the scratches, bites, bruises, and nicks were individually inspected as the distance between us began to subconsciously evaporate into thin air. Lukewarm trickles of blood continued to flow down my shivering body to the floor. The precious seconds passed as the torture was becoming next to impossible to withstand. With a small step forward, Catherine tried to force her to react, but, with an impressive display of finesse and speed, Sara pushed Catherine back. In the back of her mind Catherine could feel the waves of blood descend toward the various files on her desk; Sara's right hand held down her hips and her other hand began to tease her glistening peach colored folds of her sex.
Catherine clutched her mouth as a scream started to bubble outward from her lungs when she felt Sara's fingers dip into her sex. Each possessive thrust of Sara's impossibly long fingers made unbearable wet sounds that increased in volume with each upward caress into her tight sex. Hot sticky arousal drowned Sara's hand which made Sara's groans turn into amazed sighs.
She removed her finger from Catherine's sex and promptly received a frustrated growl of annoyance. Sara's hands traced up toward her bloodied back. Scorching blood raced through Catherine's veins as Sara's mouth captured her sopping wet sex; her tongue flittered playful along the sides of Catherine's blood engorged clit. It felt incredible. Each and every hot lick of Sara's incredibly hard tongue continued to push Catherine further and further up the mountain of pleasure to reach the ultimate conclusion of orgasmic bliss.
She squirmed against Sara's hand as the blood that had been flowing down Catherine's back began to coagulate into a trickle of maroon drops drying into brown strips before reaching her desk. The tongue inside of Catherine energetically changed from making friends with her clit to drinking her arousal as Sara started to stab into Catherine's sex.
The sole light in the room continued to flutter its shadows throughout the room as Catherine's efforts to increase the friction, matched with the effort Sara was putting forth to give Catherine her release. Wild shadows grinded against each other on the ceiling as the women continued their luxuriously slow waltz of each other's bodies against the steel desk. The air in Catherine's office was seemingly near its burning point as Sara continued to assault her dark blonde capped sex. The groan burbled out of Catherine's throat at the same time as the fire encased in her engorged clit exploded outward into her limbs; jets of hot arousal streamed from Catherine's body into Sara's waiting mouth.
The lamp had finally given up the fight to remain vertical as it promptly fell off of Catherine's desk. Impenetrable darkness flooded the area around the two women as they both struggled to regain their ability to breathe regularly. As the air cooled into a reasonable temperature, Sara lifted herself up from Catherine's trembling body.
Broken lamp glass stood forgotten on the carpeted floor, but Catherine felt nothing except total exhaustion. Her whole life revolved meaninglessly around the possibility of a quick fuck anywhere and everywhere; what kind of a life was that? Everything about Sara's actions just ended up causing physical or emotional trauma for Catherine, and she was sick of it.
Sara had taken to embracing Catherine's slightly clammy body as she began to whisper nonsensical nonsense about wanting to do this again, for what felt like the thirtieth time. Ever since that time in Tahoe, she had always said these things to her after they had sex; sickeningly, Catherine could never bring herself to correct her.
Sara leaned from their embrace to find Catherine's normally bright eyes, dull and lifeless, "I'm sorry."
"I know," Catherine said miserably, "Honestly, I'm sorry too. And you know what, Sara? I think it's time for me to leave the lab and get away from all of these corpses, puzzles, and…well, quite frankly, you. It's getting to point where I can't even be alone with you without wanting to throw you onto any kind of a hard surface; I can't work like that, Sara. You need to go back to your emotional husk of a husband or whatever. Just…we're done; this thing between us is over."
"You know, for someone who sounds so miserable, your words are awfully resolute. And you know what I think," Sara said before briefly pausing, "I think you're just as depressed as I am. The only time I feel happy is when I'm with you; I'd gladly give up anything and everything to be with you."
"Don't do this."
"Do what?"
Catherine pushed Sara away from her as her eyes briefly flashed in anger, "Don't make promises that you know that you can't keep. I feel myself slowly starting to fall for you like some virginal schoolgirl and that isn't right, Sara. I'm straight and you're married." She looks down briefly at the small flash of light that comes from Sara's wedding ring, "You and I both know what it feels like to be hurt by the other woman; I can't bear to make someone else feel that kind of pain."
Silence enveloped the office as Sara looked away to the small slats of light being reflected in from the slight openings in the blinds; their shadows played wildly against the walls as the two women glared at each other with frustration and pity. Sara walked toward Catherine's desk and the broken lamp glass pierced through the sensitive skin of her bare feet. Beads of slow trickling blood dyed the soft carpet as Sara leaned back against the desk next to Catherine's heated body.
"I respect your decision, Catherine, but…it's like you're asking me to give up one of my senses for the rest of my life," Sara said before looking up at the darkened ceiling with a sigh of disgust, "You don't want us to fuck each other anymore, fine, but don't trivialize your feelings for me. Nothing changes the fact that I'm happiest when I'm with you. It wouldn't matter if I was 4000 miles away from you, Catherine. I'd still love you."
Catherine turned toward Sara and chuckled with a slight smile, "Again, Sara, don't make promises you know you can't keep. But…I wouldn't mind keeping hope alive for that promise."
Slivers of light continued to play havoc on Catherine's face as she smiled briefly in Sara's direction. A moment passed before Sara moves her hand across the desk toward Catherine's own hand and embraced it with her own.
"Now…can we please get our clothes back on before Nick comes in and gets his top two wildest fantasies fulfilled at the same time?" Catherine said after grasping Sara's hand briefly.
There was nothing more to be said.
A/N - I know the ending is pathetically fluffy but I can't be angsty and emotionally tortured all the time.