Chapter three: The Morning After
A/N: Sorry to disappoint all ya'll who were hoping for more YoBang, unfortunately this story does have a plot. Sorry. However, as a unrepentant hood-rat, I love all things drama and there will be lots of drama to come, so stay tuned. This chapter isn't the greatest, I know, but 1). I wanted to get something up before I go out of town and 2). I had to write something about how they felt and this is what came out. It gets better, I promise, so don't desert me, ok?
Warrick awoke early the next morning. The predawn light that flitted through a crack in the curtain cast enough light for him to just make out the form tucked up against him.
His brain, although not fully operable just yet, had no trouble recalling the events of the night before. The bathroom hadn't been the only place to see some action.
An image of he and Catherine falling on the couch, a tangle of eager limbs, popped into his mind. He smirked at the thought that a tumble from the couch to the bear skin rug below hadn't slowed them down one bit.
His smirk grew to a grin, a slightly self-satisfied grin, as he recalled them finally making it to the bedroom. The frenzy had been gone, but the passion sure hadn't.
Warrick shifted slightly and looked at Catherine, his eyes dancing over her silhouette, half hidden beneath the sheets. He reached out to stroke her arm but stopped mid-reach. Something had caught his eye.
The increasing light glinted off metal. A ring. His ring. His wedding ring.
All pleasant thoughts and self-satisfaction ceased, the feeling of overall contentment crashed and burned, profound guilt growing in its wake.
He looked from the ring to Catherine and the guilt increased by a hundred.
What the hell did I do? he thought and fought the urge to curse out loud.
He tried to move but his arm was securely pinned under Catherine. Move and she'd wake up for sure, and to say the thought didn't scare him just a little was a lie. A big one.
He lay perfectly still, deep in thought.
And he'd thought he was in the wrong before. Ha! A few forbidden fantasies were nothing compared to the mess he was in now.
Warrick shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh, stiffening when he felt her move. She gave a little contented sigh, he would've thought it cute had it been any other time, and she rolled over slightly.
Thankfully, it was just enough to free Warrick's arm and he eased from the bed.
Glad that he hadn't bothered to really unpack the day before, he grabbed underwear and his toothbrush from his duffel and an olive green t-shirt and pair of jeans from a hook on the back of the door.
Outside the bathroom door he paused. He really didn't need to be revisiting the scene of his crime, albeit a very pleasant crime. However, the last thing he wanted, no, the last thing he needed, was to be constantly inhaling the scent that still clung to his skin, a dizzying combination of him, her and sex.
Besides, there would be no avoiding reminders of last night. Thanks to them, practically the entire cabin had been branded. Not to mention that the living, breathing reminder was still asleep in his bed.
The guilt tied a knot in his gut as he thought about Catherine. He didn't know what this would do to them and this scared him, more than he wanted to admit.
It occurred to him that he should probably be more concerned about his marriage than his relationship with Catherine, but he simply couldn't process all that right then.
He turned the water in the tub on full blast and pulled the stopper for the shower. Right now he needed to think. Sorting everything out could come later.
A combination of running water and a sudden lack of heat pulled Catherine from a very fitful sleep.
She'd been having the most wonderful dream. Quite vivid too. Her, Warrick and the bathroom sink...and the couch...and rug...and...
She opened her eyes a crack and instantly noted that she was not in her room and that there was nothing between her skin and the sheets. And since the cabin only had two bedrooms, that meant she was naked, in Warrick's bed. Which meant...
Her eyes went wide and she sat up, reflexively holding the sheet to her chest.
"Oh...my...God."
They had...And he was...And she had...
"Oh my God," she said again.
She hurriedly got up from the bed, wrapping the sheet hastily around herself, and began to pace. She wasn't usually a pacer, but if ever there were a time to start, this was it.
Catherine had no problems recalling the events of the previous evening. On the contrary, she couldn't stop the memories if she tried, and boy, was she trying.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," she began to chant in time with her pacing, running a hand through her hair.
This was not supposed to happen. At least not like this. Not when he was married.
Yeah, she'd thought about it. She'd wanted it, she'd be lying if she said otherwise, but she'd never wanted this. She'd slept with a married man. Something she thought she'd never knowingly do, especially not after Eddie.
Catherine shook her head. This was bad.
She heard the water in the bathroom turn off and stopped pacing. She couldn't face him. Not right then.
She hightailed it the few steps to her room and closed the door behind her, leaning against it.
She should have stopped it. She should have stopped the kiss before things escalated and just made a joke of it. They'd have forced a laugh and it would have been awkward. But this, this was hell. And it would be hell for a long time.
So how could she fix it?
A/N: Short, I know, but it did the job, had to get all that out there. Hope you liked it and if you did let me know. Heck, if you didn't let me know. And of course here's your teaser: They somehow managed to avoid each other most of the day. He went back to the scene and with an officer on interviews. She processed the gathered evidence. All communications were through third-parties. There was a case to work and they were thankful for the distraction.
Distractions, though, are temporary. Catherine entered the cabin that evening, dead-tired from throwing herself into work and wary of the conversation she knew was coming.