Disclaimers in beginning chapter
3rd Hour. Upscale Restaurant.
"Our goal here is to actually make Marisa believe that you two are desperately in love," Erika's intense brown eyes looked from Catherine to Sara. "If she senses any kind of setup then she's going to run and we may never catch her. So I don't care if you two absolutely despise each other right now. I'm hoping that you can both be adult enough to realize that as much as this involves your lives and the people in your lives, this is about what Marisa thinks and what Marisa wants. This is about her world, not yours."
"Run the plan by me one more time," Sara mumbled from the back seat of the car.
"Just let Marisa see you both. Don't, under any circumstance, be looking around for her. Remember, you only exist for each other. Sit down, have a nice meal paid for by Uncle Sam, then get in the car provided for you and ride pleasantly to Catherine's house. I'll be there waiting for you."
"What if she approaches us?" Catherine asked trying to fix the strap on the dress the FBI had helpfully provided for her.
"She won't. She's looking for evidence that you two are 'the great love story of all time'. She has to be convinced that Sara is a threat, because deep down she doesn't believe you can possibly love anyone as much as you love her. You have to prove her wrong."
"Are you as delusional as she is?" Catherine couldn't help but wonder aloud.
"No." Erika responded flatly. "I'm not delusional. It'd be best if you both refrained from comparing Marisa to me. We're not the same." She smiled at the two women sitting behind her. "So have a nice night and get out of my car."
Both CSIs had enough experience to recognize the truth in Erika's response. The admission worried them both, but it was just another worry to stack upon the others that had piled up during the night. So they did as Erika said and exited the car and stood on the sidewalk opposite the restaurant Erika had chosen for them. Erika waved as she drove off in the black limousine that had been rented especially for the occasion. She had told them that it was part of an early celebration for successfully apprehending Marisa.
"I don't trust her," Catherine admitted as they watched the limousine turn a corner and disappear into the night. It wasn't a surprising confession, but it seemed to be the least confrontational thing she thought of to say to her ex-lover.
"I don't either," Sara was just happy they agreed on something for once.
"Look," Catherine sighed and turned to face Sara after they stood in silence for a moment. "I don't want to talk about anything that happened between us in the past. I don't want to get into another argument of who hurt who worse; I just want to make sure that Marisa is stopped and no one else dies."
Thoughtful brown eyes bore into her. "Fine."
Catherine reached out to take Sara's hand, but the other woman shied away from her touch. "Look I know that you're still angry with me, I'm still angry with you too, but we're never going to pull this off if you don't even let me touch you." She turned her head to the ground and ran her hand through her hair. "We're just going to have to pretend for one night that the past didn't happen, Sara."
"Ever since it happened, I've tried to forget." Sara took Catherine's hand in her own, her grip firm. "I haven't been able to yet."
Catherine stepped closer to Sara. "You act like you're the only one that was hurt."
Instead of holding hands, Sara decided that putting her arm around Catherine's waist would look more intimate, and the action also had the benefit of allowing her to avoid contact with Catherine's skin. "I wasn't the one that slept with someone else," she said through gritted teeth as she pulled Catherine closer to her body.
"No you didn't," Catherine took Sara's lead and wrapped her arm around the taller woman. "You just pulled completely away from me emotionally. You avoided me like the plague and wouldn't give me the time of day. You never explained yourself or tried talking to me; you disappeared. We lived in the same house and you came home, helped care for Lindsey, but you were like a ghost. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't touch you. I couldn't reach you."
The women were preparing to cross the street now. They were only a few steps away from the restaurant's double doors. "You know I have a hard time opening up," Sara defended herself.
"Yes I do, but I also know that I was tired of trying to figure out what I did to make something that was so perfect end up so broken, and tired trying of figure out what it was this time that made you go away. I couldn't continue to try to give you my support when you didn't want it. It was pointless for me to try and continue to be there for you when you obviously didn't want me."
Sara opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. None of this mattered anymore. What was done was done and she didn't have the energy to try and change it. "I'm with someone else now."
The confession didn't even make Catherine lose her stride. "Good. So am I." It was a lie, but she couldn't very well confess that she was alone and afraid to try to have an intimate relationship with someone else when she still felt so broken.
With fake smiles, they stepped up to the door and thanked a man for holding it open for them. They stepped through them into a romantic restaurant neither of them had been to before. They were given seats in the middle of the restaurant in clear view for all to see. It wouldn't have made sense for Erika to make reservations for a dark corner. They were supposed to be putting on a show for a deranged fan.
"The champagne you requested, Ladies," the waiter who had introduced himself as Tad held up the bottle, winked, and lifted Sara's glass to begin pouring in the bubbling liquid. Sara was going to protest but Catherine squeezed her hand and Sara kept her silence.
Erika had pre-ordered the entire meal. She couldn't be there personally, but she was going to do what she could to make sure the night looked as real as possible. She didn't want to leave anything more than necessary in the hands of the two CSIs. If she could have pulled off dressing up as one of them, she would have.
The waiter, finished with filling Sara's cup, picked up Catherine's and filled it as well. He gave the finely dressed women another wide smile then scurried off to care for his other patrons. "You know I don't drink alcohol anymore," Sara said as soon as the waiter left.
Catherine lifted her glass and took a sip. She swallowed then placed her glass gently on the table. "So does Erika. It's sparkling cider. The bottle just says champagne."
Cautiously, Sara picked up her glass, sniffed it then took a small sip. Catherine was right; it was cider. "I wonder how much she knows about me," Sara wondered. "How much she found out."
Catherine released Sara's hand and leaned back in her chair. "I'm going to assume that Erika knows everything." She pointed to the suit Sara was wearing. "She knew exactly what size to get you for the suit. She even has it cut exactly the way you like. She's thorough."
Catherine was right. Sara's suit fitted very comfortably. There were no bunching or length problems that she normally had because of her long legs. Every detail was absolutely perfect. The atmosphere was perfect, the placement of their table could have been a little better, but all signs indicated that the night would be a perfect one. At least it would have been a perfect one if she and Catherine were actually still in love, and some maniac wasn't out to kill her.
"So tell me about your new special someone?" Catherine asked with a smile. The way she looked saying it almost made her look like she was flirting, but that was far from the truth. If being on the stage taking her clothes off taught her nothing else, it taught Catherine how to become a brilliant actress and smile for the crowd despite how she felt inside.
Sara didn't have that particular advantage. "I don't think that's something we should talk about." Her face was sour.
"Why not?" Catherine kept the sultry smile on her face. "Shouldn't I know about someone who will be hanging around my daughter?"
"Speaking of Lindsey," Sara leaned her elbows on the table trying her best to not be bested by Catherine again. "You could have let me talk to her earlier."
Catherine's left brow rose. "She didn't ask if you were around."
"That's because she's uncomfortable talking to you about me," Sara tried her best at a flirtatious grin.
"I've told her plenty of times that she shouldn't be worried about that," Catherine leaned forward and stroked Sara's right arm. "She knows I fully support you both still having a relationship. I'm not going to punish Lindsey for your actions."
Shock clearly covered Sara's features. "Punish her for my actions?" her voice rose just below an actual yell.
"That's what I said," the blond CSI took her other hand and ran her index finger enticingly across her lips.
Sara wanted so desperately to pull away from the woman who sat across from her, but found in herself some bit of fortitude that she didn't know even existed before. "I love Lindsey, Catherine."
The admission was an effective one. Catherine pulled away from Sara, slowly and still flirtatiously, but pulled away nonetheless. "I know," she looked down at the tablecloth. "That's the only reason I let her still see you. I may have lost you, but I don't want Lindsey to suffer the same."
Sara wanted to say that Catherine hadn't lost her, but it would have been a terrible lie. Catherine had lost her. She wasn't even working on the same CSI team anymore. Catherine had requested a promotion and a move to day shift. She hadn't gotten all she wanted, but she sure did get away from having to deal with Sara.
They weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination. They weren't even work associates anymore, at least not really. Sara couldn't even remember the last time she had spoken to Catherine about anything that didn't involve picking up Lindsey or work.
The entire shift in their relationship had been a quick one. They both ran away as fast and as far as they could go while still staying in the same jobs and living in the same city. The distance was for the best, because when they were around each other they only managed to fight and hurt each other more.
"Her name's Megan," Sara spoke softly, kind of hoping that the hum of the other restaurant patrons would drown out her voice. "She's a veterinarian."
Catherine ran her index finger over the rim of her champagne flute. "Has Lindsey met her yet?"
Sara shook her head. "No. I wasn't sure that would be okay for you."
"As much as Lindsey likes to think she's all grown up now, I'm sure she'd still get a kick out of pestering a pet doctor. She certainly has stopped pestering me about getting a dog." It almost physically hurt Catherine to get the words out. This being the bigger person thing was really difficult when it came right down to it.
They sat in silence, both accepting the new situation they were in, this next step in their evolving relationship. They were the divorced parents' of a pre-teen now. They were no longer friends, they were no longer lovers, and they weren't even working partners. They were the broken home.
"Do you think we should at least make an effort to dance?" Sara motioned to the decent sized dance floor a few tables away from theirs. "I'm sure Erika said something about dancing." She stood up and offered her hand to Catherine.
Catherine's blue eyes looked Sara carefully up and down. This was torture to her, and now she hated the name Megan. "Dancing would be perfect."
Sara led the older woman to the dance floor. They put their arms around each other with practiced ease. The song playing was slow and beautiful. The lighting was perfect enough for them to see each other but just dark enough that they weren't seeing anyone else.
Catherine fell into Sara's strong arms and rested her head on Sara's shoulder. They moved in time with the music, and maybe for a moment while the perfect song was playing, the perfect lighting shone upon them, and the perfect person was in their arms, they could forget the pain of the past. They could forget that their relationship was different, and they could even forget that someone was out to kill them.
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews. I'm going to try and hit on all the points you all have brought up real quick like. Yes, 12 hrs equals 12 chapters. I try not to sway too far OOC but since the idea of Sara and Catherine being together is OOC I do take my liberties. If something is really out of whack though, please don't be afraid to say anything. Chances are, I'll probably agree with you. Oh! And I'm completely ignoring the Sara/Grissom thing and am also ignoring probably an entire season. It's hard to tell. Okay so thanks for the reviews, again.