AN: Hello all! So, I finished writing the sequel to "I Brought Foxholes to Fistfights", and am excited/eager/terrified to share it with you all. I truly hope you enjoy it and that it does not disappoint. Thanks again for all your previous support and kind words. I hope you will continue to review and share your thoughts with me. This journey will be a pretty long one filled with lots of ups, downs, light, dark, etc. Updates should occur pretty regularly, fingers crossed.
Hope things are well with everyone.
Enjoy.
CATHERINE POV
The warm Nevada sun casts an ethereal glow over the room, bathing everything in an orange so brilliant I almost have to close my eyes again. Instead, I lay right where I am, silent and watching. I am almost afraid to breathe as I memorize every detail of the form lying next to me. The way the morning light plays with the natural highlights in her deep chestnut hair, the gentle curve of her lean back, the bare feet that somehow always find their way out from under the covers. I don't want to miss a single thing.
It's rare that I get to watch Sara as she sleeps. By nature, she only sleeps a few hours a night – meaning that she falls asleep long after me and is usually up reading with coffee in hand by the time I wake in the morning. When we first moved in together, it used to make me uncomfortable. I never liked being asleep while others around me were still awake. But now, it has become comforting in its own way. Some part of me appreciates the idea that Sara is there while I am sleeping, silently keeping watch as the dark hours tick by. But now, on this beautiful Tuesday morning, it is my turn to keep watch.
And I'm not planning on missing a moment of it.
Her back rises and falls steadily, her breathing barely audible. Her hair is gently splayed across her face, blocking her eyes from the light of the rising sun. I'm sure it's the only thing keeping her from waking; the darkness fooling her body into thinking it is later than it is. It's hard to resist the urge to reach out and touch her, to run my fingers through her silky hair, but I know it would awaken her in an instant. Sara is one of the lightest sleepers I have ever known.
I feel a smile grow across my face as the reality of our relationship once again washes over me. There is rarely a day that goes by that I do not savor the fact of Sara and I finally starting our life together. I keep looking around like a tourist in an exquisite new land, taking in the sights and sounds eagerly, but all the while trying to convince myself that what I am experiencing isn't just a stunning mirage. It seems so extraordinary, Sara Sidle finally in my life, and hopefully for the rest of my life.
I am so damn blessed.
Sara begins to stir next to me, and I watch as she furrows her brows at the amount of light she can now see filtering into the room. The room is usually bathed in a palate of blacks and grays when she begins her day. Turning to me, she sends me a sheepish smile when she realizes I have awakened before her. Her smile, however, soon falters.
Reaching out her hand to caress my face, she looks at me with concern. "Cath? What's wrong, babe?"
Her fingers gently wipe my cheeks, and I register the feeling of wetness beneath her tentative touch. Smiling, I take her concerned hands in mine, holding them tightly to my chest.
"Nothing's wrong, Sar. These are happy tears, I promise. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to get to wake up next to you every morning, and how glad I am to finally have you in my life." I feel like a sap, but I've always been honest in my feelings, and have never been ashamed to show them to the people I love.
I can visibly see Sara relax, and instead of responding with words, she simply leans forward and kisses me softly. People usually say they can read the emotions in their lover's eyes, but with Sara, it's always been her kisses. She can guard her emotions even from her eyes sometimes, but every time she kisses me, it's like a window has been opened between us. In this moment, I can feel her love and her deep affection clearer than if she had said the words aloud. Smiling into the kiss, we finally separate and she leans her forehead into mine. "I have the same problem," she states softly, her voice still husky from sleep.
"Yeah?"
"Every day. When I lay next to you as you sleep, when I am driving to a scene, when I am out for a run, when I catch your eye during morning assignments. Each time I think of you, it's all I can do to keep myself together. The idea of having you as the woman I get to love for the rest of my life quite literally brings me to my knees, Catherine."
Before I got close to Sara, I often thought that she was one of the least emotional people I have ever encountered. Never seeing her cry and rarely raising her voice in anger, I always assumed it was because she simply never felt sad or angry enough. But now that I have gotten to know her, I realize she feels things at a level so deep that most people could never match it in their lifetime. She may not express emotions in physical ways very often, but they are always present just below the surface. Sometimes you will get subtle hints, such as a tremor in her hands or a glint in her eye, but most times she lets me glimpse it through her words and actions. The way she kisses me, or reaches out for my hand, it's all a map of what's going on inside.
I laugh quietly, holding her face between my palms. "Well, I think we make quite a pair. I'll start bursting into 'tears of love' while you tumble to your knees, I'm sure the guys at work will think our relationship is going quite well."
Sara laughs herself, "No, but we might get a mandatory 'mental health' leave of absence out of it. Finally get some decent time off."
The fact that Sara, workaholic, is even suggesting a desire for a break from the lab indicates just how nuts the last few weeks have been. But I suspect, like me, that most of her frustration with work lies in the time that it steals away from us. Time that we otherwise would be eagerly spending with one another.
A gentle whining coming from our doorway brings us both out of our thoughts. Sara is instantly out of bed and grabbing for some sweatpants to throw on over her boxer shorts. "Oh Mesa, I'm so sorry!"
Our German shepherd collie mix is standing in our doorway with a slightly pained look on his face. My guess is he, and his bladder, finally lost patience waiting for Sara to arrive for their morning run together. Seeing that Sara is stepping awkwardly into her shoes and throwing up her hair at the same time, he wags his tail and heads out of our room to wait for her.
When we first moved into our new house, during our first dinner together Sara got very quiet. My overactive imagination immediately took hostage the rational portions of my brain, and I began to worry that her silence was a result of anything from regret about moving in with me to disgust at my attempt at vegetarian cooking. About half way through the meal, however, Sara finally looked up at me and in a hesitant voice asked, "Cath, do you think we could get a dog?" The question caught me so off guard that I wasn't able to respond in a timely fashion, causing Sara to go on. "It's just that I have always wanted one, but my apartment wouldn't allow them. But if you aren't okay with it then I understand. Or if you are allergic –"
Finally cutting her off, I put up some fake complaints about leaving the dog too long on its own while we work our long hours, blah blah blah, knowing the entire time that I would give Sara anything she wanted. Sara rarely asks for anything, and I was already planning how I could surprise her with a dog that weekend.
Knowing Sara's soft spot for animals, I decided to rescue a dog from a shelter for her instead of buying one from a breeder. On my first visit, I saw Mesa across the room and instantly knew he was perfect for Sara, for us. He has such a gentle spirit, immense intelligence, and is only a year old – making him a perfect companion for Sara on her long runs.
The look on Sara's face when I brought him home the next day was priceless. The bond between the two was instantaneous; Mesa practically affixed himself to the young brunette. Sometimes they will look at each other, and I swear they are communicating on some invisible wavelength. One night when Sara had to work late, I noticed that Mesa wouldn't leave my side. When I finally decided to go to bed, he even curled up next to me where Sara would have been. Grateful for the company, I was able to fall asleep much quicker then I otherwise would have without Sara. The next day, when Sara was returning, I heard her greeting Mesa on the porch, saying, "Hey buddy, did you watch out for Catherine like I asked?" Needless to say, he has been a fine addition to the family.
Grabbing her house key off the dresser and tucking it into her shoe, Sara approaches me and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you in a few?"
Smiling and nodding, I can't resist the urge to playfully smack her ass when she turns away. Blushing slightly but barely phased, Sara simply blows me a kiss and winks on her way out the door.
Arriving at work about an hour later, I enter the breakroom and pour us both some coffee. Smiling and greeting the others, I take a seat next to Sara on the couch and hand her a cup. Looking around the room at all the members of our close knit team, I am so grateful to have their love and support for our relationship. Although, Sara and I now have to deal with the various crude comments coming from our favorite lab tech. I know he means well, but there are only so many times I can be asked to describe Sara's favorite nighttime attire before I 'accidentally' slip and disfigure his manhood.
Shuffling into the room, Grissom sets a stack of files on the table. Barely glancing up, he issues our assignments almost robotically. I have absolutely no complaints about his gruff attitude, however, when he puts me and Sara together. Ever since we shared the news of our relationship with the team, we receive few cases together – probably Grissom's way of trying to squelch any claims of impartiality before they can be uttered in a courtroom.
Getting up to leave, I take Sara's coffee cup and quirk my eyebrow at her when I see that it is already empty. She only shrugs and takes it back from me for a refill, muttering, "This is what happens when I get too much sleep."
Shaking my head, I call over my shoulder, "Meet you in the car!" as I head out towards the parking lot.
A peaceful ride later, Sara pulls the Tahoe up next to Brass's cruiser. Before she can get out, I grab hold of her arm. I frown as I feel her stiffen in surprise, but I decidedly push the issue from my mind.
"Don't forget that we have to meet my sister for dinner tonight, okay?"
Sara smiles, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
As we leave the vehicle, she slows her step and looks at me with sudden concern. "You don't think we're in trouble or something, do you?"
I laugh at the look on her face. Sara and my sister have been hanging out a lot recently, but it's rare that my sister requests both of us for a scheduled event and I think the uncertainty regarding the evening has Sara a bit on edge.
"Unless she found all the cigarette butts you hid in her hydrangea bush, probably not."
Sara snorts, shaking her head at me. Just then, she stops, looking back at me with renewed concern. "Shit. You think she found them?"
I put my arm around her with a smile, directing her towards our waiting scene, "Come on, Sar, I promise it will be fine."
Our scene was gruesome. There are no other words to describe it. Picking body pieces out of shrubbery is no way to spend a sweltering afternoon in the desert heat. When I pulled an eyeball, or what I assumed to be an eyeball, off of the needle of a saguaro, I decided that it was going to take a miracle to get my appetite back in place for dinner with Nancy.
Looking across the sandy landscape, I see Sara lying on her stomach attempting to reach between a pair of boulders, her shirt riding up with the strain.
Hmm, maybe a little longer taking in this view and I'll get more than my appetite back…
Hearing someone clear their throat behind me, I turn to see Jim holding out a bottle of water. I simply can't find it in me to be embarrassed that he caught me checking out my girlfriend. Not when Sara is so incredibly gorgeous.
Jim does not comment, and simply heads back towards his car after telling me the scene is set to clear as soon as Sara and I are done. I can see him stifling a smile, however, as his car pulls away.
"You ready, Cath?"
I nearly jump out of my skin when Sara suddenly appears behind me with her hand on my shoulder. I hand her the remains of my water bottle, which she quickly finishes. Nodding, I grab my evidence bags and carry them to the Tahoe alongside my tall companion. After placing our items in the trunk, Sara steps to the side of the vehicle, looking carefully around the now empty scene.
"We alone here?"
Looking around for myself, I see nothing but mountains and cacti spanning to the horizon on every side of us. "I would say so."
Opening the door to the car, I stop dead in my tracks when Sara mutters, "Good." And then promptly pulls her shirt over her head.
Seriously?
This girl is going to be the death of me.
"What are you doing?"
Sara looks at me like I have grown three heads, completely oblivious to what she is doing to me as she stands there in her black bra. "Umm, for the sake of us all, I decided to dump this grimy thing in the back and grab my spare shirt I keep in here."
I continue to stare, trying fruitlessly to keep my eyes on hers. Uncontrollably, however, my mutinying eyes travel down to her thin but toned stomach. Her form fitting jeans are hanging low on her hips, and it's all I can do not to crawl across the hood of the car to grab those hips in my hands and draw her into me.
Misinterpreting my staring, Sara begins to grow a bit uneasy and quickly grabs her extra shirt from the back of the car, tossing it over her head with a furrowed brow.
Sitting in the passenger seat next to her as she climbs into the driver's side, I shake my head in disbelief. "You still have absolutely no idea what you do to me, do you?"
Sara looks at me confusedly as she puts the key into the ignition and throws the car into drive.
I reach out and grab her hand in mine. Now she looks even more confused as our vehicle makes its way through the desert sand. Deciding to get my point across another way, I let go of her hand and place my hand on her thigh. High on her thigh. I smile as she instantly slams her foot on the brake, jerking the car to a stop.
"Jesus, Catherine!"
Removing my touch with one final squeeze, I look pointedly in her direction. "That's what you do to me every time I look at you." I hold her gaze in mine. "Especially when you aren't wearing a shirt."
Sara's cheeks blush slightly, but I see a smile creep onto her lips as she turns away from me and begins to drive again.
Her voice is low and husky, "I'll definitely have to remember that."
Sara's hand is in mine as we travel through the neighborhoods of Vegas. Sara is looking peacefully out the passenger window as I make quick work of the streets between our house and my sister's. The windows are down and the sun is beginning to set, throwing everything into stark relief. The heat of the day is finally waning, and I fight the urge to close my eyes as the gentle breeze plays with my hair.
Sara seems relaxed, the only hint that she is still a bit anxious about our dinner date with my sister is the slightly tighter than normal grip she has on my hand. If I'm honest, I think I may be more nervous than her at this point. My sister isn't one for dramatics, usually sharing important news with me over the phone. Which yes, makes me want to kill her at times. Years ago, she told me that she finalized her divorce over a phone call about the latest episode of her favorite television show. It was all, 'Oh, I can't believe she was the one they voted out!' right into 'Oh, by the way, me and Josh are now legally divorced'. I'm surprised I didn't shatter her eardrum when I not-so-calmly voiced my complaints about her chosen medium for sharing the news.
As we pull into her drive and turn off the ignition, my mind is racing through ideas of Nancy being pregnant, seriously ill, in legal or financial trouble. I feel my heart rate pick up just the same time that Sara squeezes my hand in hers and leans in to give me a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"Everything is going to be fine, Cath."
I squeeze her hand in return, grateful for her ability to pick up on my emotions without me having to voice them.
Getting out of the car, Sara immediately has her arm supportively around my waist as we climb the steps to Nancy's front door. Taking a deep breath and nodding to Sara that I am ready, she lightly knocks to announce our presence. Even the knocking seems an awkward formality, since I usually just use my keys and walk right in.
The door is opened in a rush, and my sister is practically out of breath as she chastises us, "You should have just come in! I'll be right back, I have a casserole that is about to burst into flames!" She is a blur of blond hair as she runs back into the kitchen, oven mitts flailing on her flustered hands.
Sara quirks an amused eyebrow at me as we step into her living room. From here, we have a clear view of the dining room, the table already set.
That's when I notice it.
From the look on Sara's face, I know she sees it, too.
The table is set for four.
Just about the same time, I pick up on a distinctly male voice coming from the kitchen. Hearing my sister and the unknown owner of the voice discussing how best to salvage the dinner, I remain awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do or where to go.
Sara is shifting herself from one foot to the other, likely feeling just as out of place. We don't have to wait long, however, as my sister comes walking back into the room with a tall and smiling man at her side. Nancy, much calmer than before, smoothes her hair down a bit and puts her arm around the mystery man.
"Guys, this is Dr. Christian Dane, he works with me at the hospital. And, he and I have been going out for a couple months now, so I thought it was time for you to meet him." She looks slightly nervous, but her sandy haired companion seems completely at ease.
Stepping forward, he offers a hand to each of us, "Please, call me Chris." His smile is genuine, and I find myself smiling back at him in return. "Judging from the resemblance, you must be Catherine." I nod, throwing a smile to my sister as well. "And you must be Sara." Sara shakes hands with him politely, her expression a bit more reserved.
I feel all of the concern I had been holding inside melting off of me, filling me with utter relief that this occasion is a happy one. Although, I am a bit peeved that my sister did not mention a single thing to me about her dating anyone. But, watching my sister grinning up at Chris, I am overwhelmingly happy that she has someone in her life again. It took her a long time to start dating after the divorce, and even longer to actually get serious about anyone. Looking him over, he seems like quite a catch. He appears to be around my sister's age, he is tall and fit – having the lean muscle of an athlete. His brown eyes seem kind, and he has just enough scruff to lend some boyishness to his otherwise well-groomed appearance. All in all, I think my sister has done very well for herself. Of course, appearances can only tell you so much about a person, and I look forward to the chance to get to know the man underneath the esthetics during dinner.
Sitting down and enjoying the surprisingly edible casserole, we have a nice dinner filled with lots of conversation and laughter. Chris seems very easygoing and comfortable, sharing with us stories about his family back in Vermont and some of his most interesting cases at the hospital. He and my sister have an ease about them, bantering back and forth with one another as though they have been going out for years instead of months. Hours, and one amazing chocolate mousse cake, later, Sara and I are getting ready to take off. Enveloping my sister in a warm hug, I whisper in her ear. "I am so happy for you, Nance. I want to hear all the details about everything later."
Nancy nods and squeezes me tightly in return, "Thanks, Catherine."
Turning to Sara, Nancy seems a bit hesitant. Whereas I was practically hanging on Chris's every word tonight, Sara seemed to have adopted my neglected role of protective older sister – despite the fact that Sara is the younger of the two. She was friendly with Chris, even inviting him to go running and climbing with her sometime, but her body language seemed tentative throughout the night. Sensing Nancy's concern, Sara sends her a reassuring smile and gives her a hug of her own. Nodding her understanding and sending Sara a look that says 'We'll talk later', Nancy pulls away and gives a squeeze to Sara's arm. Saying our goodnights to Chris, we head out into the fresh night air.
Approaching the Tahoe, Sara turns to me with an unreadable expression. "You mind if I drive?"
Shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head, I toss her the keys. "She's all yours."
"Thanks."
We pull out and begin the short journey to our house. I can tell that Sara is deep in thought, and her slightly aggressive driving suggests that her thoughts are perhaps not all pleasant ones.
I want to give Sara time to work things through in her head, but I also don't fancy becoming someone's hood ornament. "You okay, babe?"
Sara looks over in confusion. "I'm fine, why do you ask?"
I try to stifle my smile as best I can; the last thing I want is for Sara to think I am mocking her. "Because you are about to hit 50 mph on a 25 mph street." Her head snapping down to the speedometer in shock, Sara immediately slows the car to a more appropriate speed.
"Shit. I didn't even notice, Cath. I'm sorry."
She seems genuinely apologetic and a bit out of sorts. "It's alright, Sara. It's not really the speed I'm worried about right now…" I let my sentence trial off, giving her the hint that the person behind the wheel is where my real concern lies.
She nods, letting me know that my point has gotten across. "Really, I'm fine. I just got lost in thought, I guess."
I reach over and squeeze her shoulder in support, letting her know that I am here if she needs. Sara lays her hand on top of mine, and we pull up to our house.
Neither of us makes a move to get out of the car.
Sara pulls the keys from the ignition and removes her hand from mine, staring out of the windshield with furrowed brows.
"You like Chris?"
Her question is hesitant, and I know she doesn't want to offend me or overstep her bounds with issues concerning my sister. Despite the fact that she and Nancy have become good friends, she still seems a bit unsure of her place in relation to the Willows sisterhood from time to time.
Answering honestly, I nod my head. "Yeah, he seems like a really great guy, and I think he'll be good for her. I haven't seen her that happy with a man in a long time."
Sara seems to let my words roll around in her head for awhile before she turns to me, "Yeah, I think you're right." She still seems a bit off, though. So, I decide to bite the bullet and I ask her directly what her thoughts of Chris are.
She takes some time to think about my question, again looking out the windshield at our house.
"He seems like the perfect guy," is her slightly vague answer.
"You thinking 'too good to be true'?"
My voice gets a bit defensive, despite my best efforts to keep it neutral. Though I am genuinely curious for Sara's opinion, I don't want anything to ruin my happiness for my sister. Sara is one of the best judges of character that I have ever met, and I know that if she has a negative opinion about Chris it will weigh on my mind constantly.
Assessing me, Sara takes a breath and reaches for the door handle. "No. I just want to be absolutely sure he is good enough for Nancy, I guess." I can tell there is more, but as Sara exits the car and waits for me in the darkness, I decide to let it go.
Walking up alongside her, I take her hand in mine and smile. "Well, no one can be absolutely sure about anything these days, can they?"
She chuckles and gazes up at the stars. Studying the cosmos, her face grows serious, her eyes intense. "Some people can, about some things in their lives. Or more to the point, about some people in their lives."
Finally turning her smoldering gaze on me, she holds my face between her hands, thumbs gently caressing my cheeks. I am so lost in her eyes that the next thing I know, I feel her lips against mine. Her kiss is full of passion, of need, and I find my hands grabbing onto her back to keep myself grounded. I match her intensity with my own, not caring that we are still standing in the middle of our driveway.
Pushing her back into the hood of the car for leverage, I slide one of my legs between hers. Her breathing hitches immediately, and her hips press forcefully into mine. Holding onto her tightly as our tongues continue their fight for dominance, I push her shoulders down so that she is practically bent backwards on the hood of the car with me on top of her. Strong arms reach around and pull my hips back onto hers, making up for the height difference between us. Her mouth has left mine and is hungrily working its way down my throat and across my collarbone. Normally, Sara is wary of public displays of affection, so seeing her so open and unguarded is driving me absolutely wild. I take advantage of the fact that her hands are busy holding me up, and I put my own hands under her shirt and run my fingers up the lean muscles of her stomach. She moans into my neck as they work their way higher and higher. I keep one hand on its journey upward while the other takes a more southern route. I reach her belt and grab it firmly in my hand. Using it to increase the pressure between us, I drive my leg deeper between hers and–
HONK!
HONK!
HONK!
HONK!
"Shit!" Sara and I immediately jump apart and cover our ears against the blaring honking that is coming from the Tahoe we were just lying ourselves on.
Sara is frantically trying to get the keys out of her pocket, and I am doing anything I can not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Finally, Sara gets hold of the remote and presses the 'Panic' button desperately. I release a relieved breath when the car finally stops its torment on our senses. Looking at Sara, her shirt and hair all disheveled and breathing out of control, I burst out laughing. Sara joins me, and we both realize just how close we came to having sex right on top of our car for all the neighbors to see.
"Next time, remind me to take the keys out of my pocket so we don't accidentally set off the panic alarm." Her amused voice is low, and her eyes are still dark with desire.
Taking her arm in mine, I practically drag her up the porch steps and into our house.
Getting inside in a flurry, I waste no time lowering our intertwined bodies onto our bed. "Sara, next time, I'm hoping your pants are gone long before it even becomes an issue."