Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…
I always volunteered to work holidays. Aside from Grissom, I was the only one without family to spend the holidays with. Nick usually either flew home or one of his sisters showed up in town. Rick spent it with some folks that he grew up with. Greg, well, who knew how Greg spent his holiday—and who wanted to know? Catherine had Lindsey, her sister, and her mom. So that left me and Grissom.
The look on his face this year when I told him I wanted off was priceless. He opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water. When he tried to weasel out of it, noting that everyone else already had plans, I stood my ground and told him that he'd have to find someone else—that for the last five years, I had worked every single holiday and for once, I was taking it off. The finality of my statement left no room for discussion. He just shrugged his shoulders and meekly said he'd do what he could to find someone else.
Honestly, I didn't have plans. No family to see, no tree to trim, no dinner to cook. Instead, I planned to spend my Christmas Eve night on the couch with a few Coronas, some leftover Chinese and every episode of 'Buffy' that I had DVRd in the last two months. If the Corona hit me right and the episodes had Eliza Dushku in them, I might be moved by the Christmas spirit to break out that vibe in my bottom drawer that had been collecting dust.
I was on my third Corona and my second episode of Buffy (sans Faith) when there were a pair of knocks on my door. I pressed pause and went to the door, opening it without even checking to see who it was.
"Catherine?" I stared in disbelief at the blonde standing in front of me.
A throat being cleared drew my attention to the slighter figure beside her. "Too busy noticing Mom to even see that I'm standing here, too, Sara?"
Catherine's face glowed as her lips curled into a smile. Lindsey slid past me and into the apartment, her iPod blaring in her ears and her cell phone in hand texting someone. I turned to see her plop down on the couch. She looked up once at the television, rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the cell phone in her hands.
"Is that thing fused to her hands now?" I tilted my head in the direction of the living room and Lindsey.
Catherine rolled her eyes and dismissed the texting. "She and the BFF Cameron have been fighting by text. Whatever happened to sleepovers, talking on the phone and passing notes in class?"
Catherine leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek before holding up two bags in her hands as well. "Anyway, I come bearing food," she said as she winked and squeezed past me just as Lindsey had.
I was confused, to say the least. I was still standing there when I sensed her watching me. I closed the door, locked it and turned around to find myself face to face with Catherine.
Both of her arms slid around my neck and my hands instantly went to her waist. My heart was beating madly in my chest and I know my cheeks were reddened.
She stepped closer, bringing our bodies flush against one another and then waggled her eyebrows at me and tipped her head upwards, drawing my attention to something she was holding in her hand over my head—mistletoe.
I looked at her warily, not sure that it was a good idea to go down this path. It'd been 9 months so far and if I closed my eyes and thought about, I could still remember exactly how her lips felt on mine…how she tasted…the little sounds she made. The thought alone was enough to send me into sensory overload. If I actually kissed her…
Sensing my dilemma she brushed her lips tentatively against mine and whispered, "Quit thinking and kiss me, Sara."
That was all the encouragement I needed as my grip on her waist tightened and my lips brushed against hers softly and then more deliberately. The mistletoe fell to the floor when she grabbed fistfuls of my hair. She whimpered quietly when I ran my tongue along her bottom lip before tugging on it lightly with my teeth. When I sucked it between my lips and flicked my tongue against it like I had done so many times on even more sensitive parts of her body, I felt her knees buckle slightly.
My hands drifted from her waist down over her ass and into her back pockets, pulling her even closer against me, earning a feral growl of pleasure at the contact our bodies made. I broke away from her lips and peppered her neck with lingering kisses before closing my lips over the sensitive spot under her ear and sucking delicately.
"God….Sara…."
I didn't get to hear the end of her declaration because a very loud and unhappy Lindsey reaffirmed her presence. "Okay, gross, you guys. The last thing a child ever needs to see is her mom playing tonsil hockey with someone…even if it is Sara." She said the last part with a smile.
Cath leaned her head against my chest heavily, obviously embarrassed that Lindsey had seen (or heard) as much as she had.
Once her breathing was back to normal, she pulled away and walked toward the kitchen.
She started pulling out containers of food from the bags she brought with her. "Who's hungry?"
We were done with dinner and Catherine was washing what few dishes there were while Lindsey and I sat on the couch finishing another episode of Buffy.
Lindsey leaned over, popped one of her earbuds out and looked from the kitchen back to me, "She's just trying to butter you up. Alex," she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, "asked Mom to go away for New Years. She wants you to watch me—and she thinks I don't know about Alex."
Something inside me snapped. She didn't have to fuck with my emotions to get me to do anything for Lindsey. All she had to do was ask.