Title: Jet Lag 1
Author: neo-chef
Pairing: Catherine/Sara
Rating: PG for now, will progress later
Spoilers: anything is fair game
Archive: let me know and it can go anywhere
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I wouldn't have the time or the energy to write about them…
A.N. The song which inspired this is "Jet Lag" by Joss Stone. One of my favourite vocalists, I suggest that you all look into it. This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and its my first try at C/S fiction, so if it looks crap and disjointed, that's why. Feedback is always welcome.
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The feeling of exhaustion one feels after travelling across time zones, know as jet lag, is nothing the to the graveyard shift at Las Vegas C.S.I. headquarters. Starting work in the late afternoon and finishing work as the sun is rising throws your body clock right out the window.
Catherine Willows slumped on the bench in the locker room after her shift. It had been a long week and she was looking forward to nothing more than a glass of wine as she relaxed in the bath. Her mind wandered as she ran her hands through her hair, attempting to comb it somewhat, as she thought of the happenings of the last few weeks.
The case of Ashley Thomas had been a hard one on all the CSIs, especially Catherine and her brunette colleague, Sara Sidle. Ashley Thomas had been beaten and tortured at the hands of the people you should be able to trust, her parents. What made it worse that at the tender age of 13, a young life had been cut tragically short.
Throughout the case, whether collecting evidence, examining it or interviewing people related the case, Sara had been unusually quiet. She was a quiet person to begin with, small talk being relatively brief during work time, but even with Greg, the spiky haired lab tech-turned-CSI, she had been standoffish and reserved.
Grissom had attempted to explain his decision to put the two female CSIs on the case by saying that they would empathise with the victim, a statement that drew a shocked expression from Cath and a look of odium from Sara.
"Typical," mumbled Sara as she spun around and stalked out of the break room.
"Gris, you can't expect us to immediately feel for the victim just because she is female," explained Cath, "that's awfully presumptuous, almost bordering on chauvinism," finished Cath as she looked around the rest of the assembled CSI crew. Nick was overly interested in his and Warrick's case file, Warrick gave a lop sided smile and a shrug of his shoulders. She looked back to Grissom who gave his trademark "I don't deal with people well, and this is not a discussion" look and turned out of the break room.
"Greg is helping you out on this one," Grissom threw over his shoulder as he exited the room. Catherine looked over at the youngest and newest member of the night crew. He might be immature but, in his move to fieldwork, and to impress his superiors, had always approached his case with a professionalism that the others didn't realise he possessed.
"Come on Greg," called Cath as she left the break room, off in search of Sara.
That had been the start of an…interesting few weeks for Cath. While the only females CSIs on the nightshift weren't 'friends' in the strictest sense of the word, they were generally civil on their cases. Cath had tried to cut Sara some slack after the case of her ex-husband and the women seemed to have reached an unofficial truce.
Cath collected her belongings and stood up from the bench to head home to relax. Nearing the door, she was nearly bowled over by a whirlwind with brown hair. Sara flew into the locker room, unaware that she almost collected Cath, stepping up to the closest locker drew her fist back and punched the locker door, leaving a sizeable dent. She collapsed to the bench, nursing her now swollen knuckles.
"I need to get out of here… it's the last time I try to help that man," muttered Sara, dejected as her head hung looking at the floor.
"You OK Sara?" tentatively asked Catherine as she walked back towards the bench. Sara's head snapped up, finally realising that she wasn't alone in the room. Brown eyes, so full emotion one moment, quickly clouded over as they met Cath's blue ones.
"I'm fine," was the clipped reply from the younger CSI. Sara stood to walk from the room when Cath's hand caught her arm.
"If you ever want to talk about anything Sara," started Cath before Sara pulled her arm from the gentle grasp.
"No, I'm fine," muttered Sara as she stormed out of the room.
Cath stood stunned, looking at the door to the locker room. She shook her head and continued out to her car to head home. Cath had been battling with her thoughts regarding the younger female CSI of late. While her previous occupation of a dancer had exposed her to lots that life had to offer, she had dabbled with both men and women, before settling down with Eddie. In the recent months since his death, her dating scene was decidedly quiet, struggling with her job and her daughter Lindsay left her little time to explore her sexual side.
Her bisexuality wasn't something she kept expressly hidden, some of her colleagues knew about it. Warrick, of course, knew and he was his general easy-going self. Anything that made Cath happy was OK by him. Grissom was aware about it, but as usual, didn't voice his opinion one-way or the other.
The younger CSI had always intrigued Cath and Sara was the only one of the nightshift crew who still sat on the outside of the group, generally refusing to go to many of the breakfast dates attended by the rest of the group. Despite their animosity towards each other on occasion, Cath would have preferred that she and Sara were friends. Or more… those words bounced around in her head whenever Cath saw Sara working, an intense looked of focus etched of the young woman's face. Bent over a lab bench, jeans tight across those legs that seem to go forever, strong back muscles flexing lightly under her top… 'No,' Cath thought. Despite her best efforts at extending the olive branch to Sara, she had always been knocked back by the younger woman.
Cath's feelings on Sara swirled around in her head as she hopped into her Tahoe. Did she want to persevere with a relationship with the younger CSI? She had never seen and reciprocation of her feelings by Sara. Was Sara even interested in women? The only person Catherine knew that Sara had dated since she had come to Las Vegas was Hank, and she knew had that ended. The few beers they had shared when Cath had invited Sara out was the closest thing they had come to a 'date'. With a rapidly approaching headache from her musings, Cath started the engine and pulled out into the street and turned in the direction of home.
Flicking through the radio, searching for something other than annoying DJ talk or ads, she stopped on a soulful voice…
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Little angels
Whisper softly
While my heart melts
For you and I'll see
Only sunshine
Only moonlight
For the first time its real
And the higher you take me
The more that you make me
Feel so hazy
Tell me what this means
I got jet lag and I never even left the ground
See it's like that every time you come around
Oh, I'm so hung over and I never even touched a drop
See I can't get enough
This must be love
How the time flies
When you're near me
Get those butterflies
Inside and I'll be
Where the stars shine
Where the birds fly
'Till the next time you're mine
And the higher you take me
The more that you make me
Feel so hazy
Tell me what this means
I got jet lag and I never even left the ground
See it's like that every time you come around
Oh, I'm so hung over and I never even touched a drop
See I can't get enough
This must be love
Whenever you're with me
It feels like gravity
Ain't got no hold on me
Tell me what does this mean
This must be love
Love
I got jet lag and I never even left the ground
And it's like that every time you come around
I'm so hung over and I never even touched one drop
See I got jet lag
Baby don't cha know
You really really got it goin' on
Baby don't cha know
You really really got it goin' on
Baby don't cha know
You really really got it goin' on
Baby don't you know
Baby don't you know
I got jet lag and I never even left the ground
See it's like that every time you come around
Oh, I'm so hung over and I never even touched a drop
I never even left the ground
I never no no
Jet lag, jet leg
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Cath didn't know why she stopped on that station and by the time the song finished she was pulling up in her driveway. Sitting staring at the front of her house, she thought about that song. Humming the tune as she pulled the keys from the ignition the walked up into her house dropping her handbag on the couch, preparing to enjoy her bath before her daughter arrived home.
Climbing up the stairs with weary legs, she stripped off as she turned the taps on, adjusting them to provide the right temperature. Listening to the water splash into the bath tub, she looked at herself in the mirror. In the past, men and women had fought over this body, jostling to be closest, as it stalked across the stage. Now in her forties, Cath, while still proud of her body, wondered if it still held that same appeal.
Dropping the thoughts as paranoia she slipped into the warm waters as she mused on the past weeks and a certain brunette CSI.
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TO BE CONTINUED?
Let me know if I should continue…
