Part 4

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Catherine. She continued to seek comfort in the body of a now-familiar stranger, using her to try to warm the dead places in her heart. Sometimes, when they cuddled after sex and she whispered Catherine's name, her voice was hoarse enough to approximate the low tones of Sara's, and in those moments, Catherine pretended that it was close enough so that the differences didn't matter. There, in the muted glow of candles or the moon, with no sharp edges, it was close enough. But then every night, the harsh fluorescent lights of the crime lab brutally exposed the truth; as she stared at Sara, walking through the halls seemingly oblivious to Catherine, Catherine knew the one she really wanted was not the one she had.

In the end, it had been easy to break it off; those not-quite-the-right-shade-of-brown eyes dropped from hers sadly, and a too-high voice asked, "It's that woman I saw you with outside the club with, isn't it?" Catherine simply nodded in confirmation and left.

That night, Sara roared into the locker room just seconds before shift began, looking like she had just woken up in the wrinkled jeans and super-tight babydoll t she was wearing. She caught Catherine looking as she pulled off her t-shirt and grabbed another shirt out of her locker, but instead of the angry glare Catherine expected, Sara looked away with a grimace and a guilty expression on her face. And when Catherine passed behind Sara on her way out the door, a light citrus scent filled her nostrils.

Grissom, of course, oblivious to the obvious tension between the two women, paired them to work together that night, and they spent the time in an awkward silence, speaking only when absolutely necessary. This uncomfortable silence was new in this game they had been playing since that night outside the club, as Sara had been treating her the same as always and acting like nothing had happened between them. But tonight something had her rattled, and it showed in the way she kept her eyes fixed on whatever piece of evidence she was collecting.

Back at the lab, Catherine was actually relieved to get some distance from the tension rolling off of Sara in waves and to find a nice quiet lab to work in. It had been near impossible to focus on the case, because simply working with Sara was distracting enough, much less than when she seemed distressed and out-of-sorts.

Straightening from the microscope, Catherine came face-to-face with Sara, who was propped up in the doorway gazing at her sadly. If they hadn't been at work, in the middle of a case, and in the middle of a glass-walled lab beside a busy corridor, Catherine would have wrapped the younger woman in a tight bear hug, but she couldn't, so she had to settle for calling Sara's name softly. "You ok?" Catherine asked, letting her concern seep into her words.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Sara replied, her pained tone at odds with her reassuring words. "I got the DNA results back," she said, waving a sheet of paper and effectively diverting the conversation back to the case.

But Catherine wasn't to be diverted forever; she caught up with Sara at the end of shift in the locker room, packing up her bag.

"We need to talk."

"No, Catherine, we don't." Sara's tone made it clear that there was no conversation forthcoming as she clanged her locker door shut and pushed past the shorter woman on her way to the door.

"Ok, fine," Catherine spit out. "Just answer me one question," she said, throwing the words at Sara's back where she stood, one foot already out the door. "When you leave the bed of one of those surrogate bodies, do you feel as empty as I do?"

"Catherine," Sara began like she was going to launch into an explanation, and then she sighed, shaking her head. "I always feel empty."

xxx

"What did you mean?" Catherine asked as she pushed past Sara into her apartment.

"Wha…"

Catherine spun to confront the tall woman, standing, open-mouthed, in the doorway. "What did you mean, you always feel empty? And while you are at it, why don't you explain why you think we have nothing to offer each other?" Catherine had spent the drive over preparing her questions and working herself into a full-on rage. After Sara had left her standing in the locker room, Catherine had finally realized that she was tired of Sara's riddles and nonsense explanations. She got enough of those from Grissom, and she wasn't going to tolerate them from yet another source, especially not with something so important.

Sara recovered from her initial shock and gripped the door handle, her knuckles white as she held the door wide open. "Catherine, leave."

"No. Not until you answer me."

Sara slammed the door shut and advanced on the smaller woman. "I don't owe you any explanations. We're not, nor will we ever be, in a relationship, and that's all you need to know."

Catherine stood her ground, shaking her head stubbornly. "No, I refuse to accept that. You keep saying we can't be in a relationship and I want to know WHY. Right now." Catherine took a breath and lowered her voice. "I'm not leaving until…"

Something in Catherine's reasonable tone set Sara off and her voice rose as she yelled, "No, Catherine, no. We are not having this conversation because I have already explained it to you. I have nothing to offer you except a good fuck and you sure as hell don't have anything to offer me, so get the fuck out. Now!"

"I refuse to believe that."

"I don't care what you believe. There's the door."

For a long second they stood and stared, measuring each other's resolve, and then Catherine sighed. "Ok," she said, still standing in the middle of the hallway.

"Ok?"

"Ok, fine. I'll take it."

Sara shook her head, obviously confused. "What?"

"If all you have to offer is a good fuck, I'll take it."

Sara's eyebrow shot up as Catherine's words registered, and then her eyes narrowed in anger. "No, you are leaving now," Sara growled as she caught Catherine's arm and pulled her toward the door. "Right fucking now."

Catherine allowed Sara to pull her a couple of steps before she swung her body around and reversed their positions, sending Sara crashing into the door. "Not until I get my fuck," she whispered as she trapped Sara with her body. Tilting her chin, Catherine licked her lips slowly, careful to moisten every inch, and watched Sara's eyes widen. "Kiss me," she commanded, letting her desire show in the breathy way she said the words.

Mesmerized, Sara lowered her head and brushed her lips over Catherine's, the light touch unleashing a feral need in Catherine. Wrapping her arms around the back of Sara's neck, Catherine pulled her in for a blazing kiss that left them both breathless. When she relented and let the brunette up for air, Sara's eyes were glazed. "Catherine, we, we shouldn't…"

Catherine silenced her with her mouth, her hands, and her thigh, causing Sara to gasp and squirm in her grasp. But Sara's stubbornness was legendary for a reason; as soon as Catherine moved to tease Sara's ear with her tongue, the brunette tried again. "Catherine, you need to leave."

Catherine pulled back to look Sara in the eye, so she could see the seductive smirk and wicked twinkle in Catherine's eyes. "I'm not leaving." To emphasize her point, Catherine whipped her shirt off and threw it over her shoulder, somewhere into the interior of the apartment before crashing into Sara's body again and capturing her mouth. Finally, she felt Sara's touch as her fingers caressed the now-bare skin of Catherine's back, and Catherine arched into Sara and moaned her approval.

The impact of her body thudding into the wall behind her drove most of the breath from Catherine's body, and the wild look in Sara's eyes as she pinned Catherine's hands to the wall took the rest of her breath. A dangerous light gleamed as Sara stared, gasping for breath, her mouth set into a hard line, a bare sliver from Catherine's. Catherine stayed perfectly still as Sara searched her face before lowering her mouth to tease her with slow, deep kisses that only lasted seconds, pulling her head back just out of Catherine's reach again and again, until Catherine hooked a leg around Sara's waist, closing the distance between their bodies and grinding her body against Sara's.

Catherine braced herself against the wall to wrap a second leg around Sara's hips, locking her ankles in the small of Sara's back to get leverage to arch up and out, presenting her breasts to Sara's mouth, and moaning an incoherent plea. Catherine felt Sara release her wrists, but she kept them tight against the wall as Sara released her bra and ran her tongue over the nipple in one smooth, slow lick. She found her voice again as Sara teased first one nipple and then the other while her hands grabbed Catherine's ass to hold her up. "Oh god, yes, yes," Catherine moaned as she bucked her hips and rode out the sensations Sara's breath, tongue, and fingers were causing.

Collapsing against the wall, Catherine locked eyes with Sara and demanded, "Bed. Now." Sara smirked but did as she was told, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller woman to take the short walk to the bed before dumping her unceremoniously on the comforter, her teasing smile wide. Not in any mood for teasing and wild with need, Catherine grabbed the taller woman and yanked her down onto the bed. "Now, baby, please" she pleaded, and Sara complied, stripping off her pants and underwear and diving into Catherine's wetness. The speed with which first one, then two, and then three, orgasms ripped through her body as Sara filled her over and over would have astounded Catherine had she time to think or breathe.

When Sara finally let her come down from the heights and recover her wits, Catherine found Sara laying beside her on the king bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Sara?"

Those unfathomable eyes turned toward her and stared at her blandly, as though she were indistinguishable from the ceiling. "So are you satisfied?"

"Maybe," Catherine answered cautiously.

"Did you enjoy your fuck?"

"Yes…"

One elegant eyebrow quirked upwards in a questioning gesture. "So what's wrong?" Sara asked, her words innocent on the surface but a harsh satisfaction lurked beneath.

"Was that all it was?" Catherine asked quietly.

Sara chuckled and shook her head, and Catherine closed her eyes so that Sara wouldn't see the pain. "What were you expecting, Catherine?" She sniffed scornfully. "You thought that once you got me into bed and we had sex, I would fall in love with you? That I would melt in your arms like the heroine in some kind of dime-store romance novel and tell you I loved you?"

"Maybe."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

For a long second, Catherine rested there and let the hurt wash over her; finally making a decision, she rolled over on top of Sara. She pressed a light kiss on Sara's lips, trying to pour all her feelings into that single, simple act. Sara's eyebrows knitted and she stared up at the blonde, puzzled. "If this is all I get, I want my turn," Catherine explained simply before lowering her head again.

When she rose to look at Sara again, she found the brunette gazing up at her with surprise, confusion, and even a little bit of fear in those murky brown eyes, and Catherine smirked in sudden understanding. "You don't let them touch you, do you?"

"Not… not always," Sara answered truthfully.

"I bet half the time you don't even get undressed," Catherine said as she tugged Sara's t-shirt off, the tension in the thin frame showing her reluctance to lose her armor. The hard line of Sara's mouth gave Catherine her answer as her fingers nimbly unfastened Sara's jeans and slid them off to join hers in a heap at the foot of the bed. Leaning in to nibble on Sara's ear, Catherine whispered, "You didn't want those others to touch you… you've been waiting for me… for my touch." Sara didn't answer, and Catherine spared a glance at her, seeing her parted lips and tightly-closed eyes. With a single finger, Catherine traced Sara's bottom lip, watching as Sara caught her breath at the feather-light touch.

"All this time, you've been making love to me through those stand-in bodies, but you couldn't stand the counterfeit touch," Catherine continued, still memorized by Sara's reactions as she stroked a smooth cheek, the line of her jaw, "you've been waiting for me," over the pulse point thundering in Sara's neck, "all this time," down the valley between her breasts, "waiting for me…"

And so it began, the slow, almost torturous, seduction as Catherine explored Sara's body with the lightest of touches, the whisper of breath, and the softest of kisses. Sara's eyes never opened as Catherine stroked her breasts and thighs, and she never urged Catherine to hurry as the slow build-up continued. Catherine kissed her way down Sara's body reverently, caressed her skin like it was the most frail of porcelain, until Sara writhed and quivered under her. Finally, as her fingers poised in Sara's heat, she whispered, "Sara, open your eyes, baby. Look at me."

Sara could barely lift her eyelids; she whimpered in mindless want as Catherine locked baby-blue eyes with onyx-black ones. "I love you," Catherine breathed as she plunged her fingers in, watching as the words and actions both registered before Sara's eyes squeezed shut, her head thrown back and lip caught between her teeth to hold back her screams. Catherine drove her to the edge before telling her, "Let it out, baby, let it all out."

But when Sara finally found release, the only sound was her name, exhaled on a long stream of breath, "Catherine."

Snuggling into the exhausted woman, Catherine closed her eyes and dropped immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep. And when she woke, she woke alone.