(A very late) Merry Christmas to Taylor. Forgive me for being so late with this? I hope you like it!


The air was thick with humidity. Sand glistened in the late afternoon sunlight that carved through the clouds. A haze drifted over the beach, casting it in an ethereal glow. It was quiet, save for the waves that lapped gently at the shore. It left the inhabitants with a feeling of blissful serenity, only broken by the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance, never quite reaching the island.

It was like a recurring dream—every day as peaceful as the last. Catherine lazily rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow as she looked down at the man beside her. His eyes were closed, his brow creased as if in deep thought. She flattened a lightly tanned hand on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat against her palm.

"Checking to see if I'm alive again, Cath?" Warrick asked. His lips were pulled into a smirk though his eyes remained closed.

"Maybe," she said noncommittally, sliding her hand up to rest against his neck. Her thumb stroked the sensitive skin just above where she felt his pulse.

His eyes opened and he looked up at her, his smile fading. "You know we have nothing to worry about, right? The FBI settled everything with WIT SEC almost a year ago. Nick Gedda is dead. Walsh is in prison, under heavy guard. We're safe here."

"I know, I know." She got to her knees beside him, looking down at him with a sigh. "I still just find this whole situation unbelievable. My daughter is dating an FBI agent, and I'm… I'm married to you. A man I thought was dead for nearly three years."

He took her hand in his, lifting it to brush his lips over her fingertips. "It is pretty implausible, isn't it?" He grinned at her, sitting up and placing his hands on her shoulders. "And yet it's reality. A reality I'm grateful to have a chance to live out."

When she leant in to kiss him, she flushed a faint pink as his hands slid over her arms, traveling along her sides to rest on her hips. He pulled her on top of him before lying back again. She let out a surprised laugh as she adjusted herself so she was lying comfortably flat. He placed a hand over the one she had placed on his chest, stroking the side with the pad of his thumb.

She slid the backs of her fingers along his cheek, the stubble scraping her skin gently. Tangling her fingers in his rough curls, she pulled him to her gently to caress his lips with hers. His arm wrapped around her back, pressing her against him as the kiss deepened. She moaned softly into his mouth, pulling away when the hand at his side grasped for balance, only to find the grit of the sand digging into her palm.

A sigh slipped past her lips, and she rolled to the side, curling up against him. His hand stroked her hair gently as they watched the sun descend toward the horizon, clouds in vibrant shades of yellow, orange and pink blending into each other like a moving painting. It was her favorite way to end the day, away from Vegas and the violence that ran rampant.

It was her own personal paradise.


-hides in a corner- I wish I could say this was going to be a long term return to the CSI fandom, but... I've been working on a lot of original writing along with the Dragon Age I've been posting... More CSI may come after this, but I can't promise anything.