Author's name: Wingsfan
Pairings: Catherine/m, implied Catherine/Sara
Disclaimers: Nothing in here is mine. If it were mine, I'd be floating around in my pool with a laptop on my lap. Can't blame a girl for trying, though!
Summary: post-Justice is served ficlet. My take on what happened after the last scene.
Author's note: This is unbeta-ed. Each and every mistake is mine and mine alone. I'd love feedback. Tell me you like it, love it, hate it. Thanks and have fun!
It's been too long since I last had a warm body lying next to me in bed. The downfall from that carnival case came crashing down on me, and I gave in to temptation. When I received the call from Paul Newsome I told myself that I will not return his call. Yet here I am barely moments after wrapping up the case, driving to his house.
I don't know how I came to the conclusion that I needed his company. He's not exactly my type. Though I must admit, the man does have his charms. A little arrogant perhaps, but smart nonetheless. He's proud of what he's doing because he's good at it. Or so he thinks. But I know we will never work out. He can never understand what my work means to me. Or the real reason why I work so hard.
Ever since the divorce I've been drowning myself in work that never ends. It was my constant. My work and Lindsey. My little angel is my anchor, grounding me whenever the perils of work threatens to drive me over the edge. My work, on the other hand, allows me the control that I never got to experience in my life. My work is my catharsis.
We kissed as soon as I stepped into his house. No more words were exchanged after that. Soft kisses were replaced by more hungry, urgent ones. It was all lips, tongue and not an inch between us. Giving in to temptation, I let go of the ties that had held me back.
Skin to skin, lips to lips. We both got so caught up in the moment that we barely remembered to strip each other. He was expecting me, it seems. If I weren't so adamant about searching for the release that I have yearned for so long I would've commented about his clothing. Or lack of. There would be time for that later.
I've lost track of when was the last time someone made my blood boil with passion. The last time I had given in, well, it ended in a messy divorce. Not one of my brighter moments, but I've learned to move on. A million thoughts, images, flickered through my conscious mind. Memories from the past have come back to haunt me once again, reminding me why I chose work and Lindsey over everything else.
Long legs, strong arms, dark hair. It was all I could see, all I could remember. Everything else filtered out of my mind. Nothing registered. Dark orbs gazing into mine, searching the depths of my soul for the answer to the eternal question.
No, they will not find the answer there. I have learnt long ago to lock away that answer in my heart. Buried deep within me, no one would be able to find it. Not even myself. Because even though I'm lying down in bed with him, all I can think of is her.
I realized why I chose him. He reminded me of her. The air of arrogance around him drew me in like a moth to a flame. I know it is a poor substitute, but until I find the courage to tell her how I feel, I would have to settle for second best.
Perhaps I will one day unlock that answer and have lunch with her.