Disclaimer I own nothing. These characters belong to CBS and whoever else owns the rights to them.
Pairing: Catherine/Sara
Timeline: First season, episodes 2&3. Not cannon but does contain some references to those episodes.
Summary:Catherine's initial hostility to Sara has to do with more than just Warrick's investigation.
Author's Note: So I was re-watching the first season last night and couldn't help but think that Catherine's objections to Sara were a little too vehement for someone she supposedly hasn't met before. And this is what popped into my head.
Blame NaNo write and too much chocolate.
Chapter One.(of 3)
Sara Sidle
The buzzing in my ears drowns out the rest of Grissom's response but I can tell from the slightly raised eyebrow and the purse of his lips that he's concerned. He thinks that I'm mad at him and maybe I am. We all know that Warrick screwed up. Bringing in an outsider to nail him for it isn't really neccessary. But mostly I'm angry at the circumstances, at myself and the fact that once again my past has come hack to haunt me.
As soon as I am able to excuse myself I flee to my office. Once there I shut the door and firmly and cross the room to sink into the chair behind my desk. My heart is racing and memories start to stir as a name I haven't heard, have barely even thought, in years echoes inside my head.
Sara Sidle
Immediately my mind conjures up an image, short dark hair, curls framing her face, dark, unreadable eyes and a sexy, smirking smile.
I had no idea she was a CSI. No idea she was Grissom's friend.
"God," I let out a sigh and drop my head into my hands. One indescretion, years ago and my world is being rocked yet again.
The memories start to come more readily, a forensic conference in Sacramento? No, San Franscisco. Long lectures, some interesting, most boring. A mix of academic types and science geeks. Just before I left, Eddie and I got into a fight and when I call that night he won't let me say goodnight to Lindsey. That pisses me off and we get into another fight, screaming at each other over the phone until I hang up on him. I know I won't be able to sleep after that so I head down to the lobby and ask the conceirge to reccomend a bar where I can relax away from the conference. I believe my exact words were, a bar where a girl can go to have a drink and relax. Perhaps he read something into my words that wasn't there. Or maybe I inferred more than I'd intended but either way the bar he directs me to ends up being a lesbian bar.
After a moment of lingering in the doorway I cross the threshold and make my way across the room to the bar. I order a beer and when it comes, nurse it slowly.
I'm on my second beer when a body bellies up to the bar beside me and orders two beers. I barely glance over, just turn my head enough to see who it is standing beside me but the timing is just so that as I'm looking over at her she's looking back at me. Our eyes meet and hold for a moment and she offeres a polite, meaningless smile. Without my permission my eyes give her a once over, taking in her tall, lean frame and when they reach her face again her smile has turned into a grin.
A blush heats up my cheeks and I hope that she can't see it in the darkness. I'm a married woman. I shouldn't be checking people out in bars. Especially not young, incredibly attractive women who are exactly my type on a night like this, when my temper is flaring and my nerves are shot.
The bartender returns with her beers and sets them at her elbow without a word. She takes one and hands the other to me. I accept it automatically, even as my mind forms protests. When I open my mouth to offer one all that comes out is "thank you."
She nods, "sure."
We drink in silence for a few minutes. I'm trying to figure out whether or not I should start a conversation. And what I would say, what we would even talk about. For her part she seems contented to lean against the bar quietly, her thumb tapping the surface of the bar in time with the music. It's an absent gesture and I'm not sure that she's even aware that she's doing it.
I like the fact that she's not saying anything. If she had tried to come onto me or flirt I probably would have shot her down but this quiet confidence thing is a turn on. I'm fairly certain that I'm going to be taking her home with me tonight. Or going with her. It doesn't really matter. I just need to work off some of this tension.
She downs her beer and gestures for another round. I finish mine quickly and am ready for the next one when it arrives.
"Hey, Sara, we're taking off." We both look up as a blond pixie approaches us and gestures over her shoulder to where three other woman are gathering their things from one of the tables along the wall.
"I'm going to hang here for a bit," the woman, Sara, says with a shrug. She makes a vague gesture to her half-full beer bottle.
"All right." The blond gives her a grin as she takes a step backwards.
The others look up as they start to head for the door, realization that their friend isn't coming with them dawns and they exchange knowing glances.
"Night, Sar," one of them calls.
"Catch you late, Sidle," says another.
And then they're gone and we're alone.
And that's when things begin to get a little fuzzy. Four beers mixed with jet lag and an empty stomach means I'm a little more drunk at this point than I should be. I remember there's more drinking, and a little bit of conversation. I remember hot, wet kisses and soft, smooth skin and waking up alone in my hotel room the next morning.