Oh, trust me my darlings, there will be smut :) I cannot possibly write a Sara/Catherine fic without smut, it's just far too much fun.
And yes, Sara's the 'caring one' in this fic. I got so tired of Sara always being the one in need of rescue. Both of them have a lot of issues...
And thank you all for your reviews, for supplying me with my oxygen.
I hope you'll like this chapter as well. And as always, please let me know what you think! The lavender button is on your left at the very bottom of the page :)
Enjoy!

Love,
Jellicos
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Chapter three:

She didn't speak to me much during the rest of the shift. I had expected as much. But there was something else that bothered me. I would catch her glancing at me nervously every now and then. Catherine was acting really strange. Which in her case is saying a lot.

I didn't mention Novak or anything else that wasn't related to the case at hand until I caught her in the locker room after shift. She was sitting on the bench, her back towards me. I don't think she even noticed that I'd stepped into the room. Her mind was in a completely different place and if she'd look any tenser I would have sworn she'd bounce like a spring at the slightest noise.

"Catherine?" I call out to her carefully, but I get no reaction. "Cath?" I walk up to her, but she still doesn't seem to notice my presence.

I can't control myself. I feel so bad for her and the urge to just take all the pain away washes over me. Before my mind has time to react, my hands are rubbing her shoulders, easing the tension away from her neck, while the soft skin under my hands seems electric to the touch.

To my surprise, Catherine doesn't pull away. Instead she leans into my touch and I can feel how tense she really is. God, Sara, this is really not a good idea. The tiny voice in my head is back and I know its right. My whole body is signaling the very same thing. But the feel of her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse is addictive. And her unconscious response to my touch is far to arousing. Her head tilts slightly to the right, bringing with it a cascade of blond waves. I realize she's closed her eyes and a soft moan escapes her lips as she leans further back to my hands. I need to pull back, and when I do she finally looks at me. Her warm blue eyes are tired. At first she looks confused as if she's surprised at my retreat. But that seems to be something she didn't mean for me to see, because again she averts her eyes. When she meets my eye again she looks as if she's on the verge of tears and the pain is far too evident in her face. 'I'll kill those guys' I tell myself. 'I'll kill them all.' There is no doubt that Nick and Grissom must have put her through hell on the Novak-case. Yet I cannot seem to shake the feeling that there is something else causing her this pain as well. Something she's both trying to tell me and in the same time, desperately trying to hide from me. She succeeds in the latter.

"How are you holding up Catherine?" I ask her. The softness of my voice must confuse her because her weary expression is suddenly studying me as if trying to find some hidden evidence of foul play. I sigh. I can't do this. Not if she's going to continue treating me with this suspicion –which I'm still aware isn't entirely misplaced. But it hurts, more than I care to admit.

"Fine." I grab my jacket from my locker and try not to slam the door; neither of us needs my anger at the moment. "If you need to talk you know where to find me." She's still looking at me, questioning my actions and words with her gaze as I start walking out. I take one last glance at her when I reach the door. She doesn't look at me, but the sight on the locker room bench bewilders me. She looks so hurt that for a moment I stand frozen, wondering if I should go back.

Catherine turns; the pain in her eyes is enough to make my heart break. But the expression shifts so suddenly that I think I might have imagined it all if my heart wasn't still hurting.

She looks angry now and I'm more confused than ever.

"Aren't you gone yet?" She almost hisses at me. God, I don't need this! I need a good seven mile run. What's the matter with her anyway? I send her one of my death glares before slamming the door shut behind me. What the fuck is going on with her? And why do I even care?

Oh, right… it's Catherine.

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Exhausted but fulfilled I spend a good half an hour in the shower. If there's anything in this world that can clear my head better than a long run, I haven't found it.

The scent of my expensive shampoo and shower-gel relaxes me even more. So I have a few indulges. There are not many places in which I can feel completely at ease, but for some reason the shower is one of the few. The water streaming down my body has an almost hypnotic effect on me. So I allow myself the luxury of spending a little extra on fine shower gels, exotic shampoos, and herbal conditioner.

I'm feeling better than I have in days as I slip into my pajamas and as soon as my head hits the pillow I'm sleeping.

'Stupid monkeys, stop banging those coconuts! They'll never open and you're giving me a headache.' I stir and realize that the noise that has woken me up has nothing to do with the monkeys in my dream. It takes me a while longer to realize that someone is banging on my door. With a disgruntled groan I turn the alarm clock on my nightstand to reveal the time. I've only been asleep for half an hour! The banging continues and I reluctantly get out of my warm and oh-so-soft bed. Whoever it is I'm going to break their arms.

I stumble into the hallway while rubbing most of the sleepiness out of my eyes, preparing a range of obscenities to yell at this intruder before slamming the door in their face.

But as I open the door, the words get stuck in my throat.

"Catherine?" Am I still sleeping? She looks so small, as if she's trying to vanish by taking up as little space as possible. Her hands are crossed in front of her and she's looking down on her shoes. I've never seen her like this. And it kind of scares me.

"I'm sorry; I probably shouldn't have come here. I just…" She trails off. When she looks up to catch my eye I suddenly wish she'd kept looking at her shoes. There are too many emotions for me to decipher, but the most evident is the pain-striking despair. "I had nowhere else to turn." Her voice is just above a whisper and her eyes are both insecure and pleading. I waste no time to usher her inside.

"Come in." I let her pass me in the narrow hallway before closing the door. "Can I get you some coffee?" I ask and she nods. I'm suddenly thankful that I always keep a fresh pot on.

When I come back with two steaming cups in my hands, she's standing in the exact same place as she was when I left her. I place one cup in her hand and then almost pull her over to the sofa.

I watch her as I sip my coffee, giving her a chance to start talking. She hasn't touched her coffee, but looks at it intensely as it rests in both of her hands.

"He was at my house when I arrived." Her voice is stronger now, but distant. I watch her, not saying a word. Mostly because I really have no idea what she's talking about yet. "He was just standing there, talking to my mom and Lindsey. I dialed 911 before walking up to them, leaving the cell in my car. He was acting like he was this charming colleague of mine, standing in front of my house, talking to my baby…" She stopped. Her fingers had grabbed the cup much harder now and her fingertips where turning white.

"Novak was at your house?" I felt my anger rise as well as she nodded. "How did he get your address?" Ok, Sara, not the most important question right now.

"He works at the district attorneys office; I don't think it was a difficult task to find it." She states with a sigh.

"What happened?" There you go Sara; a much more relevant question.

"I told mom to take Linds into the house, he started accusing me, I drew my gun as he started to become aggressive, and then the cops came…" She'd just stated this whole range of events as if reciting a testimony from a witness in a case.

Vivid images of myself punching the crap out of this guy flashed before me. No, I had to control my own anger for Catherine's sake.

I still couldn't quite believe that she was sitting here, on my couch, opening up to me.

"I'm glad you came Catherine." I say softly, placing my coffee cup on the table.

"Why?" The sudden question startled me and she turned to face me for the first time since she'd got here.

"Sorry?" I'm not grasping her train of thought anymore.

"Why are you glad I came?" Again I sigh. What is this? I had expected some hostility from her, but this was bordering on paranoia.

"Because I care." Better play it safe.

"You care?" Is she accusing me or disbelieving my words? The tone of her voice and her much too strong emphasis on the word 'care' makes me think she feels the word to be an insult. But what was she expecting? I decide to take the bull by its horns.

"What's really going on Catherine?" I ask and it couldn't be more evident that I'm on to something here, because she starts starring intensely at her cup again.

"I don't know what you mean." But her voice deceives her and that makes me even more worried. Catherine has always been such a good liar if she's been forced to.

"Then why are you blushing?" I say as I realize that her face has turned a soft pink. At my words, the pink grows stronger and she looks away in the opposite direction, trying to hide her face entirely.

"I'm not." God! She's acting like three year old!

"Cath…" I take her arm and pull her to face me. With much effort I try not to gasp as she turns. Her eyes are red and tears are falling down her cheeks. She tries to turn away, but I place my hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at me. I wipe her tears with my thumbs as my free hand cradles her other cheek.

"Catherine…" I say her name lovingly, tasting it, wishing I could claim it. But for now I'm satisfied with letting it roll of my tongue in the softest manner I know. "…I know you're hurting, you wouldn't be here if you weren't. So let me help you."

She sighs.

"I couldn't care less about Novak." The statement throws me off, but I let her continue. "He was just another mistake. One of many." Do I really want to hear this? "It has been my way to feel wanted and desired without getting hurt." She lets out a hollow laugh. "I guess it backfired on me this time."

"You can't walk down a street without being wanted and desired." I blurt out before my mind has time to react. But to my surprise she smiles at me. I swear, this woman is getting stranger by the minute. And I thought I had her somewhat figured out. I wasn't even close.

"Do you want me Sara?" I jump. Did she say what I thought she said? Am I dreaming all this? I must be. That sultry voice of hers, those dark eyes and seductive smile, they have never been for me. Only in my best of dreams have they been directed at me, but not like this.

I cannot open my mouth. My words are stuck. She render me numb with those eyes of hers.

Then it's back. The excruciating pain that fills her eyes and breaks my heart, and she's standing.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." She says, her voice hurting me, showing the very same pain as her eyes. Before I can react to what's happened she's gone.

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