Tortured Tangled Hearts
A Trio of CSI Drabbles
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, premises of or anything to do with the television show, CSI. I make no financial gain from the production of this twisted tale. All recognizable material is the property of the creators and the television networks who hold the contract rights there of. All "original" characters are fictional and any similarities to existing or deceased (or other fictional) persons is completely coincidental and no harm or offence is intended.
Rated T for Teen: Mature Themes
Warning: The following tale deals with a loving relationship, of sorts, between two persons of the same gender. Big scary femslash ahead, folks. If this sort of thing, for whatever reason, upsets you, I highly suggest you find another source of amusement.
Sara/Sofia pairing (No shocker there)
GSR (In my defense, it is angsty unhappy GSR)
Author's Note: My Muse and I are having difficulties. I want to finish my big projects and she's intent on writing angst-filled one-shot drabble-ish deals. There was a lot of screaming and door slamming, false starts, really bad plot ideas and a mouse thrown out the window before I caved in and wrote this.
I am trying to finish my bigger projects, though my dreams of finishing Gods of Vegas before the Season 7 premiere are down the tubes…
The title, Tortured Tangled Hearts, is taken from the Dixie Chicks song that bares the same name. The fic was not inspired by the song, but the title seemed to fit, so I used it. So, to keep things clear, I don't own CSI, that belongs to a bunch of rich middle-aged white guys, the title of this fic, which belongs to three rich white women, or…anything, really.
Feedback: I would love to hear feedback on my Grissom here. I don't write him enough and every time I try, it feels like I miss him by a mile. I really really really want to hear some thoughts about my "less then saintly" Sara and Sofia.
Finally, big thanks, as always, to my beta reader, HoneyLynx86.
Catherine once told me that I was too good for Hank. I wonder what she would say now?
Somewhere along the way I went from utterly alone to being pulled in two very different directions. I'm torn between Him and Her.
He's always been there, stoic and steady. When I'm in his arms I feel safe. There's nothing that can hurt me there. We talk for hours about everything and nothing. Life, death, religion, and science: he understands me.
He treats me like a lady. Dinners, hotel suites full of flowers and champagne. Tender touches and sweet words. He is a scientist with the soul of a poet.
I had wanted him for so long that when I finally got him, it was utter perfection. I'd never been so happy in my life.
Then She happened. It was late and we were alone on a scene. One thing led to another and I found myself with my back against a wall being kissed senseless. That's nothing, though. She didn't know about Him. She was and still is innocent. I'm the guilty one. I kissed her back.
She's so passionate. When I'm with her, I feel almost unbearably alive. It's a rush, when she touches me, I'm suddenly all-powerful; I can do anything.
She sees beneath the scientist in me, she sees the woman. She doesn't treat me like a fragile piece of glass, though. She inspires a passion in me that I never knew I could have and she knows it. She just strutted right into my world and turned it upside down, smirking the entire time, and I loved every minute of it.
I love them both. I used to wonder if it was in me to love at all, now I'm trying to figure out how I fell in love with two people at the same time. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't keep this up for long, living two lives. Some day, some day soon, one of them will figure it out. When that happens, I don't know what I'll do.
I do know this, though, I can't choose between them. I'm going to keep this charade up as long as I can. I love them, Gil and Sofia, with all that I am, and I can't and won't let either of them go.
I don't need Catherine to tell me that I'm not good enough for either of them. I've known that since day one.