Disclaimer: I don't own 'em...
I was standing on the bumper of an '82 Chevy and leaning into the engine compartment and completely oblivious to anything going on around me. I was so enraptured in tearing the engine apart and looking for a bullet that I didn't hear the door swing open or closed behind me. I also didn't hear the nearly silent padding of shoes against the concrete floor.
It had been six, no, seven months since I'd last had sex, so when I felt distinctly feminine hands wandering up the back of my thighs and firmly gripping my ass, I put up no resistance. I didn't lift my head, offer any protests or even turn to see who was touching me.
Even through the thick fabric of the blue coveralls I was wearing, I could make out that the hands caressing me were smaller than those of my male colleagues. The touch was much too light to be that of a man's. There was a certain tenderness and gentleness in the groping of my ass that every man I had ever been with lacked.
"When I woke up this afternoon, you were gone. You didn't even give me a chance to send you off to work properly. After the way I fucked you last night and the constant screaming you did, it's no wonder you can't even speak now. You must have lost your voice. But that's okay, baby. I can help you find it," the woman husked as she slid one hand higher and pressed it firmly against the place I desperately ached to have touched.
Instinctively, I spread my legs to give her better access.
"Mmmm, you're eager to have me touch you, aren't you?" she asked as her fingers stroked over my cloth-covered nether regions. "So warm and mmmm so wet already that I can feel how damp you are through these grungy coveralls. Thinking about last night babe? How I teased you until you were in tears and begging me to let you cum? God, the sound of your voice as you pleaded with me. I ache just thinking about it."
Her voice was low, even, and throbbing with raw sexuality. Whoever she had fucked was one lucky woman. She pressed harder against me as she reached my apex, rubbing my swollen clit against the flesh that surrounded it. If it felt this good to have her touch me through my clothes, I could only imagine how intense and amazing it would be if her skin was actually on mine.
Her right hand was creating a steady, rhythmic friction between my legs when she slapped my ass with her left hand, causing me to jump—which in turn made me smack my head into the hood of the truck and lose my balance, sending me backwards off of the bumper—landing on the grease stained concrete floor of the garage.
She sank to one knee beside me and the look on her face was one of sheer terror.
"Catherine!"
I wasn't sure whether to rub the back of my head, my ass or finish what she had started.
Confusion danced around the chocolate eyes as she stooped down beside me, "I thought you were…"
"Someone else—clearly," I cut her off as I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. I confirmed my suspicions when I brought my hand back around and found my fingertips stained with blood. "Fuck," I winced as it dawned at me that I'd most likely need a trip to the hospital.
"Catherine, I…wow, this is embarrassing," Sara was blushing profusely as she struggled to find the words to explain her actions. "You see," she chuckled and looked away nervously before turning back to me, avoiding eye contact completely, "I…well, we….that is…she and I…."
"Which one is it? Mia, Wendy or Mandy?" Even a deaf person could have picked up on the tone in my question.
"Uh…well….see….it's uh…"
Just then the door to the garage swung open and the excuse laden tirade of Sofia Curtis began before she had obviously bothered to look up and see who was with me.
"I'm really sorry, Catherine. I had a late night, er, morning and I meant to be here earlier, but I was …Sara." Sofia froze in her tracks as she finally noticed Sara on the floor beside me.
I looked back and forth between the two of them before I was overcome with laughter and then, much to my dismay, disappointment.
"You have to be fucking kidding me, Sidle. You're fucking her? You're fucking Sofia Curtis? You're sleeping with her?" I rose to my feet rather unsteadily and leaned heavily on the truck I had previously been dismantling.
The two women were looking nervously at one another, but had failed to so much as utter a sound.
"How long?" I asked, not really sure that I wanted an answer or why it even mattered. The silence persisted and I finally repeated my question with a little more force, my voice echoing around the nearly empty room. "How long?"
"Just last night," Sara confessed weakly as Sofia glared angrily at her before turning on her heel and rushing from the room.
Uncertain, Sara took a few quick steps toward the door Sofia had just left out of when my little revelation stopped her. "You do realize Grissom slept with her to keep her in Vegas, don't you?"
Sara's back was to me so it was impossible to read her emotions, but I saw her shoulders sag under the weight of my news. For some reason, knowing that Sara had some bit of happiness pissed me off and I reveled in the fact that I could take the wind out of her sails. Mere moments before, I would have stripped naked and let those hands fuck me senseless—as she had obviously done Sofia only hours before. But now-- now that didn't matter.
If I had liked her more, I might have been kinder; I might have kept that little bit information about Sofia and Grissom to myself. But I didn't.
Sara turned to face me and looked for a moment like she was struggling with what to do or say. That inner conflict didn't last long as she took a quick step toward me and before I could react, she pulled her hand back as if to slap me, but didn't.
She cocked her to the side and looked at me with pure derision. Her voice oozed abhorrence when she finally spoke, "You're a bitch, Catherine—a real bitch. When the world doesn't revolve around you or someone else is happy, it threatens you. And you do everything in your power to turn the tables. It's no wonder you're alone."
She stared at me in silence before she turned and walked away.
I knew I was a bitch—I owned that title. But to have Sara sit in judgment of me—to look down on me the way she evidently did—that just unsettled me. I knew that I at least need to apologize to her and went after her.
Greg and Rick said that they had seen Sara heading toward the locker room. As cautiously as possible, I walked into the locker room, hoping to avoid alerting her to my presence. She was certainly unaware that I had entered as I caught her trapping Sofia between the lockers and her own lithe body. As I backed out of the room, still hoping to avoid detection, the sounds of their passionate kiss made its way to my ears.
As I walked away, I was still keenly aware of what Sara had unknowingly started. I ducked my head into the break room, "Greg?"
The spiky-haired lab rat perked up, "Yes?"
"Grab your jacket. You're with me." I didn't wait for his answer, but headed toward the exit with the youngest of our team hot on my heels.
"Did we catch a case? 'Cause shift was over ten minutes ago," he asked.
"No, Greg. We didn't catch a case and I know that our shift ended."
A/N: This didn't go quite like I had hoped. And it was one of those cases of not being quite sure how to end something…so, yeah, thus Greg makes an entrance.