a/n: I am truly, desperately sorry for how long this took me. I know, I am a bad, bad person. Thanks to Dev for the (finally) beta, and I hope this sorta makes up for it.
Every Time I Look at You
Her cheek rested on his bare chest, each breath caressing his bare skin. Both lay exhaustedly tangled, hearts slowing, on the Tahoe's roughly carpeted floor. Nick's arms wrapped protectively around her smooth waist and she shivered every hair on his arms flicked across her skin. "We really ought to go back to the house and call Grissom," he rumbled hoarsely.
She hummed into his chest. She was perfectly content to stay there, satisfied and safe, in his arms forever. He felt his eyelids flutter sleepily. "Come on," he said, and slid out from under her, "I have to see what's left of my house." He slid fluidly into his jeans and grabbed Catherine's bra. She leaned forward obligingly. The act of undressing was almost more exciting in reverse, as he slid the laced garment up her arms, giving her gooseflesh, and reached around her to fasten the hooks. His lips came so close she could not resist and her lips brushed his. He could taste himself on her, foreign yet familiar.
Nick's warm fingertips danced for a second on her shoulders. He pressed his lips to her sweet-smelling hair and slid her flowery shirt over her head.
Thirty minutes later, they rolled to a stop in front of what used to be Nick's house. He groaned as the wreckage met his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Nicky," Catherine said and patted him sympathetically. He thought of everything that had burned. The macaroni heart from his niece, the book with the phone numbers of everyone he knew, the baby pictures his mother had taken more than thirty years ago. An incredible sadness clutched his heart and squeezed its frozen talons. It's just things, he told himself, material possessions, things you can't take with you. But it still wasn't right.
He didn't deserve this. He was there to "serve and protect" and how did he get thanked? His sanctuary, his place to hide from it all had been violated and destroyed. How easy it must have been, to spill some gasoline and flick a lighter. How much harder it was going to be to rebuild his life.
"Nick, can we go talk to Grissom?" Catherine's voice pulled him away from the dark pit he was heading for. He nodded and stepped out of the SUV. Catherine appeared beside him and took his hand.
"I'm going to be here for you, okay?" The flecks of silver in her eyes twinkled at him warmly. God, she was amazing.
He drew her into an embrace, "Okay," he murmured. She pressed her lips against his neck, burning there. If anything, with her around, he'd pull through. His relief and gratitude quickly turned to embarrassment when he saw who stood behind Catherine with arms crossed and one eyebrow cocked. She felt his muscles bunch and turned out of his arms.
"Hello, Gil," she said, rolling her eyes. Nick's ears were pink again. So were Grissom's. Both men examined their feet. Well, this was awkward.
Catherine smirked in amusement and began walking towards the yellow tape. Her heels clacked dully against the sidewalk. Nick and Grissom trailed behind, still looking at the ground. As the three drew nearer to the pile of ashes that had been the house, the scent of fire rose to meet them. It was a sharp, thick smell that caught in the lungs and stuck there like a heavy black fog. Nick could feel the soot on his tongue.
Grissom chose that moment to speak, "We found a rag soaked in kerosene in the basement last night and signs of forced entry. One of the windows was broken. Possible burglary, but can't tell for sure until we know what was there before." Catherine cringed and touched Nick's arm.
"Grissom," Nick said. The older man gave a start as if just realizing that the victim was someone he knew and was standing before him. Overhead, the sky darkened.
"I'm sorry," Grissom said, and left it at that. So am I, Nick thought, sorry for myself, sorry that it's all gone.
"Nicky, you look so sad that every time I look at you, I die a little inside."
His morose, chocolate eyes met hers. "I'm sorry, Cath," he sighed. A teardrop of rain splattered against the windshield.
"You shouldn't be. It was just stuff."
"It was more than 'stuff,' it was me, my life." He inwardly cursed himself for such self-pity. His disheveled brown hair curled around his ears. Her fingers itched to touch it.
"You haven't lost everything," she pointed out. He nodded and swallowed. He still had the most important thing— her. In a second, she was on his lap, cupping his cheeks in two cool palms. Their lips collided again, warm mouths connected. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as quickly as her heart beat in her chest. More raindrops plunged down, down, from the deepening clouds over head. "Feeling better yet, Nicky?" she gasped between kisses. Her hands fingered his hair gently.
"Yes," he managed.
Her mouth tasted sweet. Breaths heaving, they gasped together in sudden animal need. Their tongues touched suddenly, eliciting a growl from both. Her eyes were lakes again.
Nick shifted uncomfortably in his tightening pants then froze as a hand trickled down his neck. Almost frantically, he tore off Catherine's shirt and stroked her bared skin. Lips pressed against writhing flesh. That was when he noticed the knuckle poised to tap on the glass. Shit. They were in Catherine's driveway!
She felt him tense, and fear shot through her. She looked up, and met her mother's disapproving eyes. "Dammit," she said.
"Yeah," Nick agreed, "dammit." His mouth hung open in dumbfounded surprise, eyebrows knitted. The older woman slipped back inside the house and slammed the door, making the couple wince. Rain slid against the windows and darkened the pavement. Catherine slid off his lap, back into the driver's seat. He handed her the shirt, without making eye contact.
"Why does this always happen? Why can't we control ourselves long enough to wait until we're alone?" she asked, voice wavering. Nick had no answer. It was almost more instinctual than anything. Like two magnets, if close enough, they could not be kept apart.
She took a second to fluff her hair and then, together they dashed through the rain to her front door. "Are you ready for this?" she asked, meeting his eyes levelly.
He sighed. "Ready as ever."
They opened the door to find her mother collapsed on the floor laughing.