Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…
Four months away was all it took for me to put the pieces back together and realize that my past was just that—my past. But one thing became overwhelmingly clear while I was there—Grissom was not the great love of my life.
I came back to Vegas, not because of Grissom, but because of her. I might have easily made peace with those demons in my past, but figuring out how to make peace with Catherine Willows was the equivalent of trying to split the atom with a hammer and chisel.
If I could, I would have kicked myself in the ass more than once for coming clean with Gil. He had been my friend long before he'd become my lover. It had been tense and one of the most emotionally draining conversations I had ever had with him. In typical Grissom fashion, he assured me that our friendship would remain and that he'd always be there for me.
While I never admitted to him that feelings for Catherine had surfaced during my absence from Vegas, he obviously knew that there was more to our breakup than I had let on. I had been back a little more than a month when he caught me watching her. My eyes caught his and I knew that he knew.
I hadn't wanted to tell him. I honestly hadn't known how to tell him. When I realized he knew, I felt guilty at having been spared the embarrassment of revealing to him that a woman whom he considered one of his best friends was firmly lodged in parts of my heart that he had never come close to finding.
I realized almost immediately what he was doing. He was less than obvious—manipulation was not his forte. Before I left Vegas, Catherine and I would work a case together maybe once or twice a month. Now, every second or third case was handed to us to work in tandem. I couldn't call him on it as that would be an admission of sorts that I knew that he knew. Whatever I felt for Catherine was still the pink elephant in the room that would never be acknowledged or spoken of with Grissom.
I believe on some level that he took delight in knowing that I wouldn't say anything about having Catherine and I work cases together. For her part, Catherine was clueless. If she wasn't, she was a much better actress than any of those fake blondes on the crime shows that had found their way into every living room in America.
It's an open and shut case. You'll be in and out of there in no time at all. His words resounded in my head with a thunderous din. Take Catherine with you. Of course he wanted me to take Catherine with me. And that's where my story really starts.
As the lights flickered and I felt the elevator lurch to a sudden halt, I couldn't help but realize that I had been placed in my own personal hell. Less than two feet from me stood the bane of my existence. If I hadn't known better, I'd have suspected that Grissom had secretly planned this—the two of us trapped in an elevator with nowhere to go and no one but each other to talk to.
Two thoughts immediately raced through my head. I'm stuck in the dark with Catherine and I'm stuck in a small space…in the dark….with Catherine. If the first was bad, the last might be my undoing.
Panic set in. I could immediately feel my temperature rising. The air was growing thick…too thick to breathe. I heard a loud clanging. I could only assume that was the sound of my kit falling to the floor as I brought one hand to rest on the wall of the elevator and the other to my chest—in a futile attempt to keep my heart from pounding its way out of my chest.
As my legs gave way and I sank to the floor, I felt her hands on me.
"Sara, what's wrong?" The fear in her voice was thick. She was kneeling in front of me, cupping my face and forcing me to look at her.
I couldn't answer. I was concentrating too hard on the ragged breaths which were becoming more and more difficult to take. I could feel the walls of the elevator closing in around us.
"You have to calm down," she warned me. She took one hand in mine and gently stroked the back of if with her thumb.
If I had a heart attack and died right then, I wouldn't have complained. Her electric touch disappeared and I missed it immediately. Not being able to stand the heat of the cramped space any longer, I pulled my vest and shirt off, leaving me in a tank top.
Catherine sank down on her knees in front of me and held out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this."
I took the bottle from her, but instead of drinking it, I emptied it over my head.
"Too hot," I managed to get out. I closed my eyes and willed myself to calm down. I focused solely on my breathing, counting each breath.
At some point, I stopped counting. At some point, the walls seemed to stop moving and everything slowed down. I could only hear the sound of my breathing and hear the light drumming of my heart.
I'm not sure how much time passed before I finally opened my eyes, but when I did, Catherine was seated on the floor of the elevator, my head in her lap. Her head was leaned back against the wall and her eyes were closed. Because she was unaware that I was 'awake' and looking at her, I could take in the amazing beauty that is Catherine Willows. I closed my eyes and decided to enjoy the feel of her fingers, which were absentmindedly running through my hair. If I had known I'd find my head in her lap and her fingers in my hair, I'd have had a panic attack in front of her years ago.
Against my will, a sigh of contentment escaped me. I opened my eyes again to find cerulean blue eyes staring down at me. I started to sit up, but she moved the hand that had been resting on my stomach (why hadn't I noticed that before) to my shoulder and gently pressed to let me know that I was okay where I was.
The constant and slow motion of her fingers lacing through my hair and dragging gently along my scalp never slowed.
"You're going to put me to sleep if you keep that up," I warned her.
She didn't speak, but her hand in my hair never slowed and I suddenly became aware that the hand which had been removed from my stomach to hold me in place had found its way back to its previous resting place.
Just as I was beginning to think that I had found heaven on earth—or had died and gone to heaven—the elevator lurched and my eyes flew open as I shot up and out of Catherine's cocoon of safety.
Before Catherine could formulate a thought and articulate it, I was on my feet and pacing around the quickly shrinking space. Once again, my breath was coming in short, ragged bursts.
"I've gotta get out of here," I panted as I pried at the door with my fingers. Finding that endeavor fruitless, I went to my kit and tore it open. I was searching for something—anything—that I could slip between the doors and pry them apart.
"Sara, calm down. It's okay. You don't want to have another panic attack," Catherine said as she moved behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.
"Calm down?" I laughed sarcastically. "I can't calm down. I have to get out of here."
Having found nothing in my case that would help me, I considered my other options.
I started to walk around the edges of the elevator, dragging my hand along the rail as I did so. I remembered all of those movies I had seen of people trapped in elevators—Silence of the Lambs definitely at the top of that list.
I moved to the center of the elevator and looked up. There was a hatch, but I was too short to reach it.
I could feel her eyes on me before she ever spoke. "What are you thinking?" Catherine asked as I jumped up and attempted to reach the roof of the elevator.
I grabbed my case and sat it under the hatch and climbed onto it unsteadily.
"Seriously, Sar, what are you doing? You can't climb up there. Where do you think you'll go if you make it through the hatch? Have you thought about that? Have you?"
I look down at her from my vantage point on the kit and once again, the elevator lurches downward, offsetting my balance and throwing me towards Catherine. I land in her arms and the sudden force of my weight against her sends us to the floor of the elevator. I don't know how, but I'm beneath her.
Whereas the closeness I had previously had to Catherine was comforting, this was suddenly suffocating and I felt myself edging closer to oblivion I close my eyes and speak through clenched teeth. "Get off of me."
"No," she said calmly as she pushed the full force of her weight down on me.
"Catherine, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Get off of me."
She didn't speak. My breathing was becoming more labored and I know she could feel my heart beating against her chest. "If you don't let me up…" I couldn't finish my threat because I wasn't sure what I would…or could…do if she didn't let me up.
"Sara, look at me."
I couldn't open my eyes. I had learned a long time ago that you didn't want to see what was coming your way. I knew the walls were closing in. I knew the air was becoming too thick to breathe. What I didn't know was what I'd see if my eyes were open.
"Sara," her tone was soft, like the downy fur on a kitten. "Look at me. Open your eyes."
Against my better judgment, I reluctantly opened my eyes, but looked everywhere but at her.
I felt her hand on my cheek, forcing me to look at her. My ragged breathing hitched at the intimate and unfamiliar contact, but my dark, panicked eyes found a calm sea of blue staring back at me.
"What do I have to do for you not to panic?" Her tone was low and corporeal.
I couldn't answer. My power of speech had long since left me. Another downward lurch of the elevator and before I could react, I felt a pair of soft, yet firm, lips against mine. My mind couldn't react to the situation of the elevator lurching because my body was busy reacting to the feeling of Catherine's lips against mine.
I urged her on by opening my mouth further to allow her pliant tongue entrance. My hands, once balled into fists at my sides, had a mind of their own as they worked their way into Catherine's hair, both pulling at it and simultaneously using it to hold her mouth close to mine.
I was no longer worried about the walls closing in as I felt the velvety smoothness of her tongue rub over mine. My breathing was still a concern, but for more obvious and definitely more pleasurable reasons.
As her hands moved over my still damp tank top, I shifted and rolled us over, pinning her beneath me. Even through the transition, our mouths never left one another. I heard a moan, but I wasn't completely sure if it was from me or from her—or from both of us.
My hands moved down to her hips and found their way under her formerly neatly pressed shirt. As my fingertips inched over her ribs, she arched up against my body. Jolts of electricity and flames of desire swept southward through my body.
I tore my mouth (reluctantly) away from hers and nibbled at her neck before soothing it with a gentle swipe of my tongue. Her nails were digging into my back and raked upwards toward the nape of my neck as I found a particularly sensitive patch of flesh under her ear.
"I've wanted you to do this for so long," was the hushed cry that came out as I bit down on her earlobe.
As the words registered (and resonated) with me, I found myself emboldened. My hands moved higher, cupping her breasts in my hands. She'd realize soon enough that what she said wasn't meant for me, but in the meantime, I could pretend it was. And for my part, I could definitely blame the lack of oxygen as the major contributor to my actions if I was to find out that she didn't really want this.
"God Sar, that feels so good," she moaned as my thumbs rolled her nipples between my fingers through her bra.
I moved down her body and inched her shirt up and exposing her stomach. I kissed my way down, dipping my tongue in her belly button and swirling it around. I was so close, I could smell her arousal.
Between her saying my name and the warmth and scent that was rolling off of her in waves, I was fairly certain that she really did want.
A humming filled the elevator and the lights flickered on—and stayed on. We smoothly began to descend.
I pushed myself off of Catherine and held my hand out to her. She took it and I pulled her to her feet in one swift motion.
"Sara, I…"
I put my hand up to silence her, but she pushed me against the wall and kissed me deeply.
"We'll finish this," she said with a tone that was resolute and left no room for debate.
The doors to the elevator slid open and revealed Grissom and Sofia. Grissom went to Catherine and fussed over her while Sofia pulled me to the side. "That's not your color, Sidle."
I looked at her, not quite understanding what she was saying. Picking up on my confusion, she added, "The lipstick." I quickly wiped at my lips and smiled at her.
XXXXXXXX
"Didn't you wonder why Grissom was putting you on nearly every case with me?" she asked as she rolled off of me.
"I thought it was because of what I had told him."
She laughed—one of those hearty laughs that I didn't think I could ever grow tired of hearing.
As her fingers ran through my sweat soaked hair, I sighed in happiness. "I suppose we both confided certain things in Grissom. Who'd have ever thought that the Tin Man could put two and two together?"
She rolled over to face me as her hand moved down over my abs and began a slow tease at the apex of my sex. "I've seen a lot of things in my time, but I've gotta be honest with you. You and Grissom dating was one of the grossest things I had ever conceived of. Even though it meant you were leaving me too, I took some relief in you leaving Vegas and him. It definitely let me go back to the fantasies I had of you--none of which involved Grissom."
Catherine had fantasies? Fantasies that involved me? Before I left Vegas?
"Care to tell me about a few of these?" I asked a tinge of hope in my voice.
Catherine got a predatory look in her eyes and rolled over on top of me, trapping her hand between my legs. "Tell? I prefer to show."
And while my story may have started with Grissom telling me to take Catherine with me, it was where Catherine took me (over and over) that ends my story.
A/N: Sofrost wanted smut, but it didn't feel appropriate for this one.