Hey All :)
so yet another thrilling instalment (pah...)
I almost choked on all this goddamn fluff. Grrrr, I want angst :/
So next chapter I think I might kill everyone. Using killer spoons. Or marshmallows. Then I'll laugh. Or not. Who knows - that's all part of the fun XD
But yeah, as wanted here is all the lesbian love-fest I could muster without blowing a blood vessel or two. Remember Monica's vein of that episode of Friends at Thanksgiving (when Joey yells at them: "I hope you three have fun." and Chandler's all like: "...three?". So Joey says: "Yeah, you, Monica and THE VEIN!" *OTT hand gestures*)
Well, in order for this little rambling titbit to go anywhere, that has pretty much summed up my feeling whilst writing this. It's to the point where even I don't know who Sara should end up with (Gil or Zavvi dammit!) and I came up with the god-forsaken idea!
So if you're not a fan of the lesbian lovin' (and WHY not, may I ask!) look away now. I'll try to make the story follow on without this chapter being too essential, but some of this pink-fluffy-lovey-dovey-bullshit is necessary (or so I'm told.)
Cheers x
It had been a long shift. A long shift of crappy cases, and pointless paperwork. Sara had more than enough of it. Traipsing through her front door, she chucked the car keys on the sofa, and dropped onto the couch.
Why was he being such an asshole to her? It just didn't make sense. It was like something had changed between them, there'd been a shift in the team dynamic. She'd changed. Definitely. Her new friendship, relationship? with Zavvi had brought out her more outgoing, happy self, rather than the old Sara that used to read forensic journals and listen to the police scanner just for kicks.
Grissom, he seemed different as well. Not that she could pinpoint what exactly had changed in his usually cool demeanour, but when they shared any small space, there was tension in the air - tension she thought only she used to feel. Now, she seemed to feel it less, But Griss had upped his charge. It was getting ridiculous.
She wondered about calling Zav, she dealt with all the psychological crap, maybe she could figure Grissom out. Padding through to her bedroom, she paused. Something felt different.
Lying on her bed was a beautiful, light-blue stained acoustic guitar. She could see the gentle whirls in the wood through the thin lacquer, even from 10ft away. It was gorgeous.
She knew Zavvi must have designed it. There was no way you could just walk into a shop and buy a guitar that looked like this. Now all the musical encouragement and vocal practices made sense. They had started to play together, but Sara had always played Zavvi's black electro-acoustic. And now she had a beauty of her own. This was incredible.
Running her fingers over the soft body, she gently plucked the low strings. It had even been tuned for her. Jesus Christ - this was crazy! It must have cost a fortune. How could Zavvi afford something like this? On a federal income, Sara was still surprised Zav could afford an apartment like hers, in prime Vegas. Just crazy.
Sara picked up the creamy white manila envelope. Tipping it upside down, several sheets fell out onto her satin sheets. The thickest, top sheet had only a small paragraph on it, next to a few intricate tribal doodles.
"Sara, it's time you had something this precious as your own. I hope you find this instrument as beautiful as I find you."
Sara giggled like a teenager, for the first time in her life.
"I'm not really sure what else to say. Sorry for the doodles? It's just, I really care for you, and hope you are having as much fun when we're together as I do. Damn, I never found writing as difficult as I do right now. I really like you. Call me?
-Z xx"
It was like she was a clichéd sixteen year old. Sara folded the note in half and set it aside from the rest of the paperwork. Flicking through the papers, many pieces of sheet music - songs they could already play together - whooshed by. Their résumé wasn't large, and Zav usually played lead, but it was so nice to just sit and jam together. The last two sheets however, were darkened with graphite sketches. Sketches of Sara. They were... incredible! So, detailed, intense, honest. So talented!
Bless her, the "Call me?" seemed so worried, so uncertain. Never had she known Zavvi to be uncertain about anything. Pulling her cell out of her back pocket, she scrolled through her contacts. Hovering over Grissom's name, a half-smile reached her lips. They really needed to talk. But now was not the time. At this moment in time she had a gorgeous, tall, thin, fiery redhead to meet.
Gil flicked through his wardrobe in a bored fashion. This was the first time he'd been bothered about what he wore in years, it was crazy. They weren't even going anywhere until Sunday, and he was already fussing about his appearance. Christ, it was like he was in college again.
The hurt look in Sara's eyes today - it cut through him like a knife. She seemed to look at him like she he had just stabbed her in the back. As if she had just watched him kill a kitten bare-handed.
How had their relationship deteriorated to this degree? Once, in San Francisco, they had been so close. They would walk hand in hand to coffee shops, enjoy lazy days on the empty beach where Sara had learned to surf. And in only a matter of years, here they were, barely friends.
Maybe if he had the guts to kiss her, that first day he met her, every day since he met her. Like he knew he should. Worship her, lavish expensive gifts upon her, treat as she deserved. But no, he had to adore her from a distance. Because he just couldn't tell her how he felt.
He just could not do it.
Sara wriggled in Zavvi's embrace.
"So, you liked it then?" Her words echoed softly through Sara's sleek, brown hair.
"Mmmhmm," She agreed, burying her head in Zav's strong shoulder.
"So, don't I get a thank you kiss?" The Brit's tone was teasing but suggestive.
"Oh, you get so much more than a kiss..."
Hands roamed over flesh, clothing was slung across the room. It was the furthest they'd ever gone, but nothing felt so right. Damn Greg and his previous interruptions.
She unhooked Zavvi's lacy, black bra, revelling in the tanned, smooth skin. God, she was beautiful. Never had Sara been more attracted to the female body - now she understood the male fascination with boobs. *Does this mean I'm gay then?*the irritating little voice in the back of her head battled. But now was not the time. Zavvi had started the attack, the duel for dominance. Two feisty women working on a case was always great, but two feisty women in the bedroom - it was guaranteed to be something else.
Sara's soft, red sweater was deftly pulled over her head, as Zavvi started kissing down her neck, and across her collarbone. Never had her nerve endings felt so alive. Not from the fumbling first attempt with her high school boyfriend (god that was a nightmare), nor the many drunken encounters in college (they weren't that much better either), not even the "get-over-Grissom" sex, her roommate set up after Gil left 'cisco. He was hunky though.
Tall, blond, curly hair, deep blue eyes, toned, tanned body, new all the right moves. She had heard a couple of years ago he'd become some sort of Mentalist-cum-consultant for the CBI. Such a nice guy, he just never really did it for her. Snapping back to the present day, Zavvi had somehow slipped off her bra, without Sara noticing. Damn this woman was good. So many men had problems with bras, which completely kill the moment, but Zav just flicked it off.
Zavvi's warm mouth caressed Sara's left breast, her heart beating double-time in her thin chest. A moist tongue flicked against her nipple, before pulling away and blowing cold air over Sara's chest. Sara squeaked in surprise.
"Was that really necessary?" She breathed out, her eyes hooded with arousal.
"Oh yes," Zavvi murmured, her grey orbs reflecting delight at Sara's incapacitated state.
That was it. It was time for payback. Sara pulled herself from the living room wall, and grabbed Zavvi by the wrist. Her strong grip dragged the fiery-haired temptress to the bedroom.
"Oh you will not believe what I find necessary," Sara giggled, as the door clicked shut and she pushed a surprised Zavvi back onto the bed.
"That - was - amazing" Heavy breathing punctuated Zavvi's appraisal.
Sara grinned happily. "Must be a natural... Have you ever, before, with a, er-"
Zavvi giggled huskily as Sara blundered on.
"No. You?"
"No." She rolled on her side to watch the grey-eyed mystery. Sara reached flicking the red hair off of Zav's face. A bemused silence fell upon the exhausted pair.
"Zav."
"Sara," she smiled.
"That guitar..."
"You do like it right?"
"Oh god yes, it's beautiful."
"Good. I thought the blue tint would look amazing with your tan," Zavvi laughed, her eyes still closed, a smile playing upon her lips. Sara looked down at the crazy, intricate, talented young woman. Being with her made Sara feel so old, yet so young, at the same time. Zav was just so... vibrant.
"It must have cost the world though."
Zavvi just grinned ruefully.
"How can you afford that Zav? It must be at least $1,500..."
"It was $2,350." Zavvi didn't even open her eyes.
"What!" Sara practically jumped out of the bed. That was a phenomenal amount of money!
Zavvi just laughed silently and shrugged.
"How, why, WHAT!"
Zavvi's laugh was louder and more pronounced.
"Zavvi, how the hell do you afford to spend that much on a gift for me?"
"I guess I have some spare funds."
"But, seriously, how?"
Zavvi sighed.
"Look, back in the UK, I - I made some money with my old band. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
"Oi you! Don't worry my pretty little head - you want to be watching that I don't bash in your pretty little head!" Sara threatened jokingly. "Money like that just doesn't happen to appear magically..."
"Fi-ine," Zavvi grumbled humorously. "Back in my rainy motherland, there was once a young teenager who formed a band. They were not particularly good, but everyone seemed to like them. They were offered a lot of money to record an album, so obviously they agreed. Blah, blah, blah, whacked out fifteen songs, European tour, blah, couple of festivals, more money, guitarist left for New York. That pretty much sums it up."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Oh, no it's nothing. Just, wow, I guess."
Zavvi shrugged and closed her eyes again. "Nah man, that world is just so cruel. I'm happier now."
"Right now?" Sara inched her body closer, pulling the dark grey, silken bed sheets up round her neck.
Zavvi's hand sought Sara's hand under the covers.
"Right now," She echoed with a smile.
So, there we go for another short amount of time 'til I feel the need to barf some more romantic crap out. I hate it when people are happy :/
But it's getting to the point where I'm enjoying writing these author's notes more than the actual stories. I should go back to blogging. But no-one reads it. Rendering my LJ account useless. To be fair, my life isn't that exciting anyway... E. got up today. Ate some food. Beat a nun to dead using a dead puppy. Criminal Minds is on tonight. Meh. Maybe it'll rain tomorrow. I can chase the ducks.
SO yeah. Read & review. You should know the drill by now. But if you don't, be nice to him. The drill sometimes joins us for scones and tea XD
Sorry, I'm in one of those moods. But as it was so kindly pointed out to me, the review clicky-thing is not longer green (hrumph! FF trying to make me look a fool...) it's got a yellow speech bubble thing now (if memory serves me well). Nevertheless, click it. Even if it says "DO NOT CLICK THIS BUTTON" JUST FUCKING CLICK IT!
THEN YELL, "FUCK YOU AND YOUR CONFORMIST VIEWS, YOU STUPID BUTTON! I WILL CLICK YOU IF I SO PLEASE!"
However, do remember to leave a review, despite your moment of unadulterated rage.
And before anyone asks, yes, I am on drugs. They help in situations like that ^^ :)
Keep Cool x