A/N: You ask for fluff, I give you fluff! Okay this is what happens when
I go into withdrawal from writing my other story (and have too much time on
my hands). Ironically, it's basically what the corny title states, random
scenes between Nick and Sara that I had in my head but couldn't really fit
into any other stories. Thus they have been amalgamated to form a story of
their own. At this point I don't know if there will even been a plot so be
warned. Also if anyone finds the rating too soft, tell me and I'll change
it. The last thing I want to do is offend any of you faithful readers ;).
Oh, and I don't own anything CSI related, but George is mine whether he
knows it or not. Enjoy!
***
Chapter 1 - Prrow
Nick opened his locker in search of a fresh shirt. He pulled the t-shirt he had on over his head, wincing slightly at a stinging sensation on his back as he moved.
Just then, Catherine entered the locker room with Sara not far behind her, both of them laughing amiably about something. Sara wolf-whistled approvingly and he shot her a grin.
"Prrow," Catherine purred, seeing the long obvious fingernail scratches tracking down his back. "Nicky, you animal."
He chuckled lightly, feeling a warm blush touch his cheeks and tossed his old shirt in a duffle bag in the bottom of his locker. He cleared his throat. "How was your case ladies?" he queried, turning so he was facing her and choosing not to comment on her observation.
"Weirdest thing I've ever seen," Sara said, twisting the dial on her lock and yanking the door open. "What we thought was a homicide turned out to be an accident."
"Yeah," Catherine piped up, removing her badge and weapon from her belt and placing them on the small shelf in her locker. "Cops discovered the body while responding to a noise complaint from a neighbor; he had his television turned up too loud evidently. Anyway, we found this guy with a knife handle jutting out of his mouth. The blade went all the way through his neck, severing his spinal cord, and poked out the back of his collar."
"Ouch," Nick cringed, pulling out a clean shirt.
"Sounds like murder right?" Sara continued. "But we thought, why the hell would a murderer stab our guy in the mouth? There are a million other obvious, let alone more accessible, places to fatally wound someone."
"Not to mention the fact that there was no other physical evidence to suggest that anyone else was even in the house, or had been for quite sometime," Catherine added.
"So, what happened?" Nick queried.
"Well as it turns out the guy was apparently holding the knife in his teeth while he washed an apple, turned around to dry it off and tripped on his shoelace, landing face first and impaling himself," Sara concluded, crossing her arms and leaning on the locker next to her own. "Can you believe that?"
"Weird," he replied with a grimace pushing his arms through his sleeves. "Well- and this may sound terrible, since he died and all- but this guy doesn't sound like he was the brightest bulb in the box."
"No kidding," Catherine agreed, slamming her locker door shut. "Well, see you guys tonight. I want to go see Lindsey off to school."
"Say hi to her for me," Nick said smiling.
"Bye Cath," Sara said with a small wave.
When the door thudded closed, leaving them alone, Nick turned to Sara. "Okay, you're going to have to start clipping those talons you call fingernails a little shorter. My back is killing me and plus Catherine saw. I thought we didn't want people to get suspicious."
"Oh, this from the guy who decided it would be a swell idea to give me the largest hickey the world has ever known yesterday, right before work no less," Sara said tugging her collar down for him to see the large patch of broken blood vessels in the skin where her neck curved gracefully to meet her shoulder. "Stop looking so damn proud of yourself. We live in the friggin' desert and I had to wear a turtleneck today. And sweat like a pig, I might add."
"Well, you didn't seem to mind at the time," he replied, turning to face her with a mischievous smirk as he started to button his shirt.
"Neither did you," she countered with a grin of her own, stepping closer to him. Her fingers stilled his and she looked appreciatively at the fine body in front of her. "So, you coming over today?" she asked, her hands sliding seductively up his chest.
"Well, I don't know," he said playfully, moving even closer, his hands going to her waist. "I'll have to check with all my other girlfriends first. You know how jealous they get."
"Oh, you're funny," she said dryly, one hand now trailing down the path it had just followed. Her fingers dipped under his waistband and he sucked in a breath. "Are you sure becoming a CSI was the right career move for you?"
"Sar..." He gritted his teeth.
"I mean, maybe you missed your calling as a comedian," she went on disregarding his warning look, her hand sliding over the growing bulge in the front of his pants. He groaned deeply and rested his forehead against hers.
She smiled, and squeezed him through his khakis. His eyes dropped shut and he gasped. She took advantage of his parted lips to thrust her tongue into his mouth and he groaned again, the reverberations in his chest making her shiver delightedly. In one quick movement he had her pinned against the locker bay, her wrists trapped in his hands above her head. She gaped at him, both surprised and excited by the speed at which he had taken control of the situation and the desire that burned brightly in his eyes. His grip was tight enough that she couldn't get away but not enough to hurt; he would never hurt her.
"Don't start what you can't finish baby," he taunted huskily, his lips hovering just out of reach of hers. He ducked his head to kiss her neck, nuzzling his way under the high collar of her sweater and nipping her throat. He pushed his knee between her legs and shifted both her wrists to one hand so he could have the other free. It roamed down her side to squeeze her butt then he slid it up her shirt to caress the sensitive skin over her ribs just below her bra.
"Mm, Nicky don't tease," she whispered, trying to press herself on his muscled thigh.
Nick wasn't sure whether she had even been aware of this or not but he discovered that she only called him that just before, during or just after sex, the result of which was that his own nickname (pardon the pun) when spoken, whispered, moaned, screamed, etc. by her had become a total aphrodisiac for him. He grunted and his hips bucked against hers in response to her breathy voice making her whimper softly. She felt him chuckle, and he pulled back to capture her lips passionately with his, his tongue conducting a thorough examination of her mouth. He swallowed her moan when he moved his large hand up further to fondle her breast through its cotton barrier. She was now writhing under his ministrations, attempting to increase the pressure of his hand.
"Meet you back at your place," he murmured against her mouth, and gave her breast one more squeeze and her lips one last gentle kiss, his lips barely touching hers. He released her, pulling away completely and smiled at her noises of protest and obvious aroused state. Grabbing his jacket and shutting his locker he sauntered out of the room. "Later babe."
Sara watched him disappear from view and rested her head against the locker door, trying to compose herself before she left. Damn it. Damn him for looking so smug and so sexy. There was no denying how much power he had over her. It was almost scary, and probably would have been had the person been anyone else. But it was Nick and she trusted him more than anyone, sometimes even more than she trusted herself. Plus, the man was a sex god and she turned to helpless putty in his hands.
But, she wielded just as much power as he did... if not more. If he was her god then she most certainly was his goddess, his responses to her between the sheets had made that fact abundantly obvious. She knew far beyond a doubt that he enjoyed their little romps in the sack tremendously, as did she.
Ooh, this morning was going to be fun, she thought and a slow smile spread across her lips.
***
Chapter 1 - Prrow
Nick opened his locker in search of a fresh shirt. He pulled the t-shirt he had on over his head, wincing slightly at a stinging sensation on his back as he moved.
Just then, Catherine entered the locker room with Sara not far behind her, both of them laughing amiably about something. Sara wolf-whistled approvingly and he shot her a grin.
"Prrow," Catherine purred, seeing the long obvious fingernail scratches tracking down his back. "Nicky, you animal."
He chuckled lightly, feeling a warm blush touch his cheeks and tossed his old shirt in a duffle bag in the bottom of his locker. He cleared his throat. "How was your case ladies?" he queried, turning so he was facing her and choosing not to comment on her observation.
"Weirdest thing I've ever seen," Sara said, twisting the dial on her lock and yanking the door open. "What we thought was a homicide turned out to be an accident."
"Yeah," Catherine piped up, removing her badge and weapon from her belt and placing them on the small shelf in her locker. "Cops discovered the body while responding to a noise complaint from a neighbor; he had his television turned up too loud evidently. Anyway, we found this guy with a knife handle jutting out of his mouth. The blade went all the way through his neck, severing his spinal cord, and poked out the back of his collar."
"Ouch," Nick cringed, pulling out a clean shirt.
"Sounds like murder right?" Sara continued. "But we thought, why the hell would a murderer stab our guy in the mouth? There are a million other obvious, let alone more accessible, places to fatally wound someone."
"Not to mention the fact that there was no other physical evidence to suggest that anyone else was even in the house, or had been for quite sometime," Catherine added.
"So, what happened?" Nick queried.
"Well as it turns out the guy was apparently holding the knife in his teeth while he washed an apple, turned around to dry it off and tripped on his shoelace, landing face first and impaling himself," Sara concluded, crossing her arms and leaning on the locker next to her own. "Can you believe that?"
"Weird," he replied with a grimace pushing his arms through his sleeves. "Well- and this may sound terrible, since he died and all- but this guy doesn't sound like he was the brightest bulb in the box."
"No kidding," Catherine agreed, slamming her locker door shut. "Well, see you guys tonight. I want to go see Lindsey off to school."
"Say hi to her for me," Nick said smiling.
"Bye Cath," Sara said with a small wave.
When the door thudded closed, leaving them alone, Nick turned to Sara. "Okay, you're going to have to start clipping those talons you call fingernails a little shorter. My back is killing me and plus Catherine saw. I thought we didn't want people to get suspicious."
"Oh, this from the guy who decided it would be a swell idea to give me the largest hickey the world has ever known yesterday, right before work no less," Sara said tugging her collar down for him to see the large patch of broken blood vessels in the skin where her neck curved gracefully to meet her shoulder. "Stop looking so damn proud of yourself. We live in the friggin' desert and I had to wear a turtleneck today. And sweat like a pig, I might add."
"Well, you didn't seem to mind at the time," he replied, turning to face her with a mischievous smirk as he started to button his shirt.
"Neither did you," she countered with a grin of her own, stepping closer to him. Her fingers stilled his and she looked appreciatively at the fine body in front of her. "So, you coming over today?" she asked, her hands sliding seductively up his chest.
"Well, I don't know," he said playfully, moving even closer, his hands going to her waist. "I'll have to check with all my other girlfriends first. You know how jealous they get."
"Oh, you're funny," she said dryly, one hand now trailing down the path it had just followed. Her fingers dipped under his waistband and he sucked in a breath. "Are you sure becoming a CSI was the right career move for you?"
"Sar..." He gritted his teeth.
"I mean, maybe you missed your calling as a comedian," she went on disregarding his warning look, her hand sliding over the growing bulge in the front of his pants. He groaned deeply and rested his forehead against hers.
She smiled, and squeezed him through his khakis. His eyes dropped shut and he gasped. She took advantage of his parted lips to thrust her tongue into his mouth and he groaned again, the reverberations in his chest making her shiver delightedly. In one quick movement he had her pinned against the locker bay, her wrists trapped in his hands above her head. She gaped at him, both surprised and excited by the speed at which he had taken control of the situation and the desire that burned brightly in his eyes. His grip was tight enough that she couldn't get away but not enough to hurt; he would never hurt her.
"Don't start what you can't finish baby," he taunted huskily, his lips hovering just out of reach of hers. He ducked his head to kiss her neck, nuzzling his way under the high collar of her sweater and nipping her throat. He pushed his knee between her legs and shifted both her wrists to one hand so he could have the other free. It roamed down her side to squeeze her butt then he slid it up her shirt to caress the sensitive skin over her ribs just below her bra.
"Mm, Nicky don't tease," she whispered, trying to press herself on his muscled thigh.
Nick wasn't sure whether she had even been aware of this or not but he discovered that she only called him that just before, during or just after sex, the result of which was that his own nickname (pardon the pun) when spoken, whispered, moaned, screamed, etc. by her had become a total aphrodisiac for him. He grunted and his hips bucked against hers in response to her breathy voice making her whimper softly. She felt him chuckle, and he pulled back to capture her lips passionately with his, his tongue conducting a thorough examination of her mouth. He swallowed her moan when he moved his large hand up further to fondle her breast through its cotton barrier. She was now writhing under his ministrations, attempting to increase the pressure of his hand.
"Meet you back at your place," he murmured against her mouth, and gave her breast one more squeeze and her lips one last gentle kiss, his lips barely touching hers. He released her, pulling away completely and smiled at her noises of protest and obvious aroused state. Grabbing his jacket and shutting his locker he sauntered out of the room. "Later babe."
Sara watched him disappear from view and rested her head against the locker door, trying to compose herself before she left. Damn it. Damn him for looking so smug and so sexy. There was no denying how much power he had over her. It was almost scary, and probably would have been had the person been anyone else. But it was Nick and she trusted him more than anyone, sometimes even more than she trusted herself. Plus, the man was a sex god and she turned to helpless putty in his hands.
But, she wielded just as much power as he did... if not more. If he was her god then she most certainly was his goddess, his responses to her between the sheets had made that fact abundantly obvious. She knew far beyond a doubt that he enjoyed their little romps in the sack tremendously, as did she.
Ooh, this morning was going to be fun, she thought and a slow smile spread across her lips.