Author: Schlampcat
Title: Storm of my Life
Summary: Dinner at Catherine, Catherine's POV. Pairing C/S
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I would, but begging won't help. Everything belongs to CBS, I guess.
Feedback: Yes, pleeeease.
Archive: Ask first.
"Any plans for today?" she asks, passing me a cup of coffee.
We are standing in the break room after shift, and maybe it's the first time in weeks that we can go home on time.
I shrug my shoulders; it's Wednesday, and I'm relieved to spend some time with my daughter. "If I hurry I may take Lindsey to school. I'm sure she can figure something out for the rest of the day."
She smiles, pretending to understand, but I'm sure she doesn't know what it's like to be a single mother in this job.
When she walks past me to the table, hot coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other, I suddenly notice that her earlobes are pierced. I wonder if she wears earrings when she's with *him*. I know that it shouldn't matter; nonetheless, it does. I don't want her to want him to find her pretty. I know she *is*.
Fighting down the unwelcome tinge of burning jealousy, I sit down next to her. "And what are you going to do?"
Taking a sip, she unfolds the paper. "I don't know. Washing. Cleaning. Listening to my police scanner..." She wryly smiles at that.
I fear that she plans to spend some time with *him*, even though she doesn't even mention his name. I struggle against much too distinct images. "Listen, Sara, why don't you come over for dinner this evening? Lindsey got Twister a few weeks ago, and she's really keen on playing it."
She looks at me indecisively. "I don't know. Maybe she wants to be alone with her mother."
"Yeah, of course." I try to shrug off her doubts. "She loves you, Sara, really. She'd be more than happy to see you tonight."
She stares at the wall, and at her hands, and again I'm afraid to hear his name.
"Okay, then, why not?" She lifts her head and smiles at me. "I'll bring the wine."
The grin forming on my face is earsplitting. I almost kiss her, right here, in the middle of the break room, straight on her soft lips. But I stop myself at the last moment. "Great. Six p.m., okay?" It's our night off.
She nods, and still smiling I hurry to my car. I'm whistling all the way home without even noticing it. I'm there just in time. I give my sister a short hug and flash her a "Thank you"-smile, and then I grab Lindsey and tickle her until she shrieks, begging me to stop. I drive her to school, and I feel her casting funny looks at me, as if she thinks her mother has lost her mind. Maybe she's right; I don't know. I feel oddly out-of-space, and that's just because Sara'll be coming over for dinner. I mean, she's still Sara, right? However, I manage to stay with my feet on the ground, or rather on the gas pedal, at least as long as I'm in the car.
Hours later I am standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and as the door rings I hear Lindsey running to open it.
"Sara!" she exclaims joyfully, and I imagine her throwing her arms around my Sara. My colleague, I mean. I understand Lindsey's thrill about seeing Sara again, I really do.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn around, just to see Sara standing in the door. She looks too amazing to be true. She's smiling, even though Lindsey is hanging from her neck, her little legs around Sara's waist. I know that she's not that easy to carry, she's eight years old; nevertheless, Sara has this smile on her face that always makes me want her even more.
We are staring at each other, and I wonder if she knows. Maybe she does, but I'm unwilling to avert my eyes anyway. Suddenly Lindsey hops to the floor. "Mommy, Sara's here!" she tells me, grabbing Sara's hand to pull her towards me.
"I see, darling," I reply. Looking down at my little daughter, I briefly ruffle her hair. When I lift my head again, Sara is still looking at me, and she's smiling. Unnecessary to mention that I return her smile and her gaze. We don't move, until I feel Lindsey snatching my hand as well and pulling us into the living room. "I wanna play Twister!"
Sara starts to laugh, flashing me her brilliant smile once more. "That's a great idea, Linds, but I think your mother has something to do. Let's see if we can find something for the two of us, okay?" She let's my little daughter lead her to the end of the room, mouthing me a 'Need help?' as she points to the kitchen. I shake my head no and watch them disappear into the hallway. I could get used to this.
When I return to the living room, carrying pots and pans, the table is set and some candles are burning. I definitely didn't buy the beautifully arranged flowers.
Sara and Lindsey are already sitting at the table, my daughter grinning ear splittingly, Sara looking at me with her shining eyes. I smile back at them as I sit down at the table. "And whose idea was this?" I ask, pointing at the candles.
Lindsey's grin widens. "Sara's, Mom. And she brought you flowers," she explains enthusiastically. "They are so beautiful!"
At this Sara blushes slightly, and I can tell by the way she looks down at her hands that she's suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I'd like to take her hand, or just to look into her eyes, but she won't me my eyes. I have to be content with drawing everybody's attention to the food. I notice just now that Sara's wearing a pair of lovely earrings, and I imagine that she's wearing them only for me. The thought of her standing in her apartment, nervously pondering on what she should wear, just as I was not even an hour ago, makes my heart jump.
Finally we are having dinner peacefully, with Lindsey talking about this boy at school, and how cute he is. I shortly think if I should get concerned about that, but she's still my little girl, and I know that a crush on a classmate in her age is nothing I need to worry about. And after all, I'm enjoying this too much.
Now and then Sara smiles at me, and I feel it again, the butterflies dancing in my stomach. I only hope she can't see it in my eyes.
Lindsey's the first to finish eating, and she urges us to hurry because she wants to watch The Lion King on TV. I don't know how often she's seen this movie, but she still gets excited about it. As soon as dinner's over, she sprints to the TV, struggling hard not to run it over. Sara chuckles softly, and even though the sound of it makes my heart flutter again, I stay serious. "Lindsey, be careful, there's still enough time until your lion is on." However, after switching on the set, she lets herself fall down onto the floor in front of the screen. Just far enough away to be able to see every bit of the movie. I raise my eyebrows at that, but Sara catches my attention again, carrying the dishes to the kitchen.
I hurry to join her, telling her she doesn't need to do this. She shrugs it off, placing the plates on the counter. "I was really enjoying this evening. Dinner was great."
"Thank you." The tension between us returns, and I am unsure if Sara thinks about leaving, and I don't know how to tell her that I want her to stay a little longer, as Lindsey calls from the living room. "Mom, Sara, you have to see this, it is so cool!"
We briefly smile at each other, before returning to the living room. We fall onto the couch facing the TV, and when I tell Lindsey not to sit too close to the TV, she settles down between us. She wants Sara to lay her arm around her shoulder as she leans against her, and I feel Sara's hand softly touching my neck. I nearly jump at her touch, but when I gaze at her over Lindsey, I see her concentrating on the movie. Maybe she doesn't notice it.
Lindsey is half sitting, half lying on the couch, her head resting at Sara's shoulder, her legs in my lap. Occasionally she giggles at the animals on TV. Eventually she leaves for the kitchen to get herself some ice tea, and when she returns, she sits down on the floor again, her back against the sofa. I no longer worry about her eyes, there's enough room between her and the TV. Besides, Sara is leaning into me, whispering "I never understood why he doesn't eat Simon, I mean, he must be very hungry, and he's definitely stronger. So why eat insects?"
I chuckle quietly, very conscious of her closeness. "I thought you were the vegetarian."
"I am," she says, defending herself, "but you've ever heard of a vegetarian lion?"
I shake my head, allowing myself to become closer to her, and somehow I end up leaning against her shoulder, my legs on the couch, one hand on Sara's thigh. She doesn't move away, instead she lays her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I love the feel of her soft hair against my cheek. Silently we watch the rest of the movie, not moving, except for briefly squeezing her thigh or her hand gliding across my neck.
It doesn't even take the whole movie for Lindsey to fall asleep. I see her head falling back against the couch and sigh. Reluctantly I lift my head from Sara's shoulder to look at her. "I should take her to bed," I say, getting up.
Sara gets hold of my hand, turning me back around to face her. She gazes at me, searching my face for something. "Come back soon, okay?" Her voice is only a whisper.
I nod, unable to speak. I lift Lindsey to my arms and carry her to bed. When I pull up the covers, she opens her eyes and looks at me sleepily. "Will Sara stay, Mommy?"
I sit down on her small bed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know," I answer honestly. "Now go back to sleep," I tell her softly. "Have a nice dream." After leaning down to kiss her nose, I stand up and leave the room. Lindsey's asleep again even before I quietly close the door.
When I enter the living room, Sara has opened a bottle of wine. Two glasses are standing on the table. Still sitting on the couch, Sara points at them. "The wine." I don't answer, standing in front of her, looking down at her. "I didn't want to open it while Lindsey's awake."
My head is spinning, and I'm searching for anything to say. "Thank you for the flowers, they really are beautiful," I finally manage.
She nods, looking at the floor, and back at me. "I..." She, too, is looking for the words. "Can I kiss you?" she whispers.
I don't move, and I don't answer, afraid that I lost my mind and am hallucinating. Sara slowly stands up, holding my gaze. She moves closer to me, and before I even notice it, my hands are on her hips and I lean forward, gently brushing my lips against hers. When I pull back she looks at me, stunned, her eyes the deepest brown I've ever seen. But she quickly recovers, and when she falls back onto the couch she pulls me with her, so that I come to sit on her legs. Her hands wander through my hair, down the side of my face and over my collarbone, as she draws me nearer, kissing me again. I return the kiss with as much fever, and I only pull back when her hand slides under my t-shirt, moaning her name. I bury my face in her neck, gently caressing the soft skin there with my lips. Her hands glide over my stomach, setting the skin on fire, and I lift my head enough to look her in the eyes.
The room is getting dark, and I didn't switch on the light. Only the light of the distant street lamps is falling across her face. It makes her look so beautiful that for one moment I'm afraid she could vanish every second.
"Lindsey asked if you were staying," I tell her, my hands meandering under her shirt, pushing it upwards.
She meets my eyes, still holding me. "What about you? Do you want me to?"
There's no need to think this over; I simply nod. "I don't want you to go," I murmur. I bend my head to capture her lips again. She moans softly at my touch, and when I stand, pulling her with me to the bedroom, she does nothing to resist.
Title: Storm of my Life
Summary: Dinner at Catherine, Catherine's POV. Pairing C/S
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I would, but begging won't help. Everything belongs to CBS, I guess.
Feedback: Yes, pleeeease.
Archive: Ask first.
"Any plans for today?" she asks, passing me a cup of coffee.
We are standing in the break room after shift, and maybe it's the first time in weeks that we can go home on time.
I shrug my shoulders; it's Wednesday, and I'm relieved to spend some time with my daughter. "If I hurry I may take Lindsey to school. I'm sure she can figure something out for the rest of the day."
She smiles, pretending to understand, but I'm sure she doesn't know what it's like to be a single mother in this job.
When she walks past me to the table, hot coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other, I suddenly notice that her earlobes are pierced. I wonder if she wears earrings when she's with *him*. I know that it shouldn't matter; nonetheless, it does. I don't want her to want him to find her pretty. I know she *is*.
Fighting down the unwelcome tinge of burning jealousy, I sit down next to her. "And what are you going to do?"
Taking a sip, she unfolds the paper. "I don't know. Washing. Cleaning. Listening to my police scanner..." She wryly smiles at that.
I fear that she plans to spend some time with *him*, even though she doesn't even mention his name. I struggle against much too distinct images. "Listen, Sara, why don't you come over for dinner this evening? Lindsey got Twister a few weeks ago, and she's really keen on playing it."
She looks at me indecisively. "I don't know. Maybe she wants to be alone with her mother."
"Yeah, of course." I try to shrug off her doubts. "She loves you, Sara, really. She'd be more than happy to see you tonight."
She stares at the wall, and at her hands, and again I'm afraid to hear his name.
"Okay, then, why not?" She lifts her head and smiles at me. "I'll bring the wine."
The grin forming on my face is earsplitting. I almost kiss her, right here, in the middle of the break room, straight on her soft lips. But I stop myself at the last moment. "Great. Six p.m., okay?" It's our night off.
She nods, and still smiling I hurry to my car. I'm whistling all the way home without even noticing it. I'm there just in time. I give my sister a short hug and flash her a "Thank you"-smile, and then I grab Lindsey and tickle her until she shrieks, begging me to stop. I drive her to school, and I feel her casting funny looks at me, as if she thinks her mother has lost her mind. Maybe she's right; I don't know. I feel oddly out-of-space, and that's just because Sara'll be coming over for dinner. I mean, she's still Sara, right? However, I manage to stay with my feet on the ground, or rather on the gas pedal, at least as long as I'm in the car.
Hours later I am standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and as the door rings I hear Lindsey running to open it.
"Sara!" she exclaims joyfully, and I imagine her throwing her arms around my Sara. My colleague, I mean. I understand Lindsey's thrill about seeing Sara again, I really do.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn around, just to see Sara standing in the door. She looks too amazing to be true. She's smiling, even though Lindsey is hanging from her neck, her little legs around Sara's waist. I know that she's not that easy to carry, she's eight years old; nevertheless, Sara has this smile on her face that always makes me want her even more.
We are staring at each other, and I wonder if she knows. Maybe she does, but I'm unwilling to avert my eyes anyway. Suddenly Lindsey hops to the floor. "Mommy, Sara's here!" she tells me, grabbing Sara's hand to pull her towards me.
"I see, darling," I reply. Looking down at my little daughter, I briefly ruffle her hair. When I lift my head again, Sara is still looking at me, and she's smiling. Unnecessary to mention that I return her smile and her gaze. We don't move, until I feel Lindsey snatching my hand as well and pulling us into the living room. "I wanna play Twister!"
Sara starts to laugh, flashing me her brilliant smile once more. "That's a great idea, Linds, but I think your mother has something to do. Let's see if we can find something for the two of us, okay?" She let's my little daughter lead her to the end of the room, mouthing me a 'Need help?' as she points to the kitchen. I shake my head no and watch them disappear into the hallway. I could get used to this.
When I return to the living room, carrying pots and pans, the table is set and some candles are burning. I definitely didn't buy the beautifully arranged flowers.
Sara and Lindsey are already sitting at the table, my daughter grinning ear splittingly, Sara looking at me with her shining eyes. I smile back at them as I sit down at the table. "And whose idea was this?" I ask, pointing at the candles.
Lindsey's grin widens. "Sara's, Mom. And she brought you flowers," she explains enthusiastically. "They are so beautiful!"
At this Sara blushes slightly, and I can tell by the way she looks down at her hands that she's suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I'd like to take her hand, or just to look into her eyes, but she won't me my eyes. I have to be content with drawing everybody's attention to the food. I notice just now that Sara's wearing a pair of lovely earrings, and I imagine that she's wearing them only for me. The thought of her standing in her apartment, nervously pondering on what she should wear, just as I was not even an hour ago, makes my heart jump.
Finally we are having dinner peacefully, with Lindsey talking about this boy at school, and how cute he is. I shortly think if I should get concerned about that, but she's still my little girl, and I know that a crush on a classmate in her age is nothing I need to worry about. And after all, I'm enjoying this too much.
Now and then Sara smiles at me, and I feel it again, the butterflies dancing in my stomach. I only hope she can't see it in my eyes.
Lindsey's the first to finish eating, and she urges us to hurry because she wants to watch The Lion King on TV. I don't know how often she's seen this movie, but she still gets excited about it. As soon as dinner's over, she sprints to the TV, struggling hard not to run it over. Sara chuckles softly, and even though the sound of it makes my heart flutter again, I stay serious. "Lindsey, be careful, there's still enough time until your lion is on." However, after switching on the set, she lets herself fall down onto the floor in front of the screen. Just far enough away to be able to see every bit of the movie. I raise my eyebrows at that, but Sara catches my attention again, carrying the dishes to the kitchen.
I hurry to join her, telling her she doesn't need to do this. She shrugs it off, placing the plates on the counter. "I was really enjoying this evening. Dinner was great."
"Thank you." The tension between us returns, and I am unsure if Sara thinks about leaving, and I don't know how to tell her that I want her to stay a little longer, as Lindsey calls from the living room. "Mom, Sara, you have to see this, it is so cool!"
We briefly smile at each other, before returning to the living room. We fall onto the couch facing the TV, and when I tell Lindsey not to sit too close to the TV, she settles down between us. She wants Sara to lay her arm around her shoulder as she leans against her, and I feel Sara's hand softly touching my neck. I nearly jump at her touch, but when I gaze at her over Lindsey, I see her concentrating on the movie. Maybe she doesn't notice it.
Lindsey is half sitting, half lying on the couch, her head resting at Sara's shoulder, her legs in my lap. Occasionally she giggles at the animals on TV. Eventually she leaves for the kitchen to get herself some ice tea, and when she returns, she sits down on the floor again, her back against the sofa. I no longer worry about her eyes, there's enough room between her and the TV. Besides, Sara is leaning into me, whispering "I never understood why he doesn't eat Simon, I mean, he must be very hungry, and he's definitely stronger. So why eat insects?"
I chuckle quietly, very conscious of her closeness. "I thought you were the vegetarian."
"I am," she says, defending herself, "but you've ever heard of a vegetarian lion?"
I shake my head, allowing myself to become closer to her, and somehow I end up leaning against her shoulder, my legs on the couch, one hand on Sara's thigh. She doesn't move away, instead she lays her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I love the feel of her soft hair against my cheek. Silently we watch the rest of the movie, not moving, except for briefly squeezing her thigh or her hand gliding across my neck.
It doesn't even take the whole movie for Lindsey to fall asleep. I see her head falling back against the couch and sigh. Reluctantly I lift my head from Sara's shoulder to look at her. "I should take her to bed," I say, getting up.
Sara gets hold of my hand, turning me back around to face her. She gazes at me, searching my face for something. "Come back soon, okay?" Her voice is only a whisper.
I nod, unable to speak. I lift Lindsey to my arms and carry her to bed. When I pull up the covers, she opens her eyes and looks at me sleepily. "Will Sara stay, Mommy?"
I sit down on her small bed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know," I answer honestly. "Now go back to sleep," I tell her softly. "Have a nice dream." After leaning down to kiss her nose, I stand up and leave the room. Lindsey's asleep again even before I quietly close the door.
When I enter the living room, Sara has opened a bottle of wine. Two glasses are standing on the table. Still sitting on the couch, Sara points at them. "The wine." I don't answer, standing in front of her, looking down at her. "I didn't want to open it while Lindsey's awake."
My head is spinning, and I'm searching for anything to say. "Thank you for the flowers, they really are beautiful," I finally manage.
She nods, looking at the floor, and back at me. "I..." She, too, is looking for the words. "Can I kiss you?" she whispers.
I don't move, and I don't answer, afraid that I lost my mind and am hallucinating. Sara slowly stands up, holding my gaze. She moves closer to me, and before I even notice it, my hands are on her hips and I lean forward, gently brushing my lips against hers. When I pull back she looks at me, stunned, her eyes the deepest brown I've ever seen. But she quickly recovers, and when she falls back onto the couch she pulls me with her, so that I come to sit on her legs. Her hands wander through my hair, down the side of my face and over my collarbone, as she draws me nearer, kissing me again. I return the kiss with as much fever, and I only pull back when her hand slides under my t-shirt, moaning her name. I bury my face in her neck, gently caressing the soft skin there with my lips. Her hands glide over my stomach, setting the skin on fire, and I lift my head enough to look her in the eyes.
The room is getting dark, and I didn't switch on the light. Only the light of the distant street lamps is falling across her face. It makes her look so beautiful that for one moment I'm afraid she could vanish every second.
"Lindsey asked if you were staying," I tell her, my hands meandering under her shirt, pushing it upwards.
She meets my eyes, still holding me. "What about you? Do you want me to?"
There's no need to think this over; I simply nod. "I don't want you to go," I murmur. I bend my head to capture her lips again. She moans softly at my touch, and when I stand, pulling her with me to the bedroom, she does nothing to resist.