The story behind this oneshot is that my friend told me about this Twilight fanfic (The Red Line by WinndSinger) and parts of it gave me some inspiration to make a Halloween fanfic for our fave girls! :D And since CSI seems to NEVER have themed episodes, I thought this would be perfect. Hope you enjoy. And I will be posting for my other two fanfics this weekend as well, so don't think this intervered at all. It only slowed me down a little bit. I promise. :) OH, AND SORRY IF I MADE ANY SPELLING MISTAKES BUT THE SPELLCHECKER ON THIS WEBSITE WAS DOWN WHEN I POSTED.
The Devil's Mistress
It was a damn shame we had to work on Halloween without any good cases to pursue, but at least we got to dress up. All we had was lab work to do so we were caged animals. I was more than happy to stay in when I heard we could a sort of mini-party r le we worked. I was hoping to have a better time after shift, but I didn't know if anyone would really want to after all the paperwork was completed. Paperwork was extremely exhausting and all you did was stare at black ink typed out on printed or copied papers and signed your name a whole bunch of times.
October thirty-first was my day to dress up outside the bedroom and get a good look at my colleague's superstitious spirits. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays so that night I was in a cheery mood, but someone else who always managed to get on my last nerve decided to act differently and saw the day as a completely separate expression.
Sara Sidle: the girl that got me hot under the collar every shift. She would challenge me and I would have to contain my anger as not to be fired or anything as harsh. She first appeared to me that night when she headed down the main hall of the lab wearing a somewhat loose-fitting, navy blue tank top and perfect fitting, cross between light and dark blue denim pants; her typical outfit. Her dark brown hair framed her face as it settled partly past her shoulders, flipped at the tips. Though she looked amazing, she wasn't in costume. Of course, Ecklie said outlandish wardrobe was optional, but she was the only CSI not dressed for the odd occasion.
I wore black, fuzzy cat ears with a black, low-cut spaghetti strap shirt, black leather pants, and murderous, black three-inch heels. I attempted perfection at Cat Woman and with all the compliments I got, I took that as a sign of success. Yet none of those compliments had come from her.
"Hey, Catherine. I love the costume. It's perfect for you. Sexy and fierce, but I thought Cat Woman wore a mask and had a tail," Nick greeted me outside the break room with his all black outfit consisting of Levi's, a basic shirt, a black cape that stopped at his knees, a hat, and an eye mask. I guessed he was Zorro, but it wasn't until I caught the plastic sword holstered in one of his belt loops until I made the full connection.
"Aw, thanks. You aren't going to carve a 'Z' into my clothes and leave me naked, are you?"
Teasing between the two of us had become completely natural. We'd known each other for several years and I always felt there was a deeper intimacy than close colleagues.
"As tempting as that sounds, not right now. Maybe later I will, but for the moment we've got assignments to work," he laughed with the finishing touch of a wink. Although he was a man I wouldn't kick out of bed, as well as Warrick, he wasn't in my fantasies.
For some reason, only one person had me cornered in my mind at the time. I would close my eyes for a few "Mississippi's" and they would instantly appear in my wildest thoughts. Sometimes I would accidentally bang my head against a car door when collecting evidence when I heard their sultry voice echo through my ears in the garage. Other times I would let my hands roam to creative ideas about them and what they would do if they had a moment alone with me.
I took my place in the break room, two seats from Sara on the opposite side of the table, and sighed when my ass hit the plain yet also harsh swivel chair. I permitted my hair to shade my face from her as if she would actually pay any attention whatsoever to me with my holiday get-up. I tussled my hair a bit to make sure I couldn't see her and followed the logic, "If you can't see them, they can't see you."
Grissom arrived quickly enough with a few considerably large files. I knew well what resided inside them and prematurely groaned, which attracted more attention to myself than I ever wanted. I looked up at Grissom first and saw his eyebrow raised in curiosity. After I figured out how he felt about my expression, I looked across the table to Nick when Greg hustled breathlessly into the room.
"Hey, guys, sorry about being late. I was just trying to fit into these tight leather pants. Guess I gained a couple pounds since I bought my attire. It's so hard being a vampire."
"Where'd you get the inspiration to be a vampire this year, Marilyn Manson?" Sara pursed her lips together at her own quip and I couldn't help but chuckle a bit myself.
"Ha, ha, ha," Greg sourly replied. "Very funny, Sara. And what exactly are you supposed to be?"
"Uh, I'm supposed to be a nerd."
"Aren't you always a nerd," Nick dove into the conversation, his mouth curling into a hard-pressed smile only years of experience could help you recognize.
Greg pounded fists with the Texan I'd come to enjoy after shift and laughed at the remark against Sara. "Yeah, but if you really wanted to be a nerd…where's the pocket protector and thick, round rimmed glasses? Not to mention, the neatly tucked in button down shirt and funny talking complex."
"That's the stereotypical nerd. But with modern times, a nerd could even be the hottest girl in school," Sara argued. I loved it when she defended her position. She could give a person the challenge of their life on an issue such as who stole the cookie from the cookie jar.
"I don't like it," I suddenly started speaking. Before I knew it, the words shot out of my mouth like a bullet and tried to pierce the enemy, though I hated to think my mind automatically made Sara my enemy. "It's not in the spirit of Halloween. You have a good point about the nerd thing, but Grissom at least went and put on antennas."
"It's because I'm a cockroach, just like the ones I race," he injected himself in the matter. Why he felt the need to answer a question, not even rhetorical, ever asked, I'll never know.
Sara shook her head and rolled her eyes. Sometimes she could be such a child. She reminded me of Lindsey when she was younger and couldn't win me over to get her way. I hated having to deal with two kids. One was biologically mine and a growing teen while the other expected to take the world by storm with someone to swoop in and save her sorry mid-thirty year old ass. That was how she began worming her way into my anger box located directly in the pit of my heart. I could love, but I could hate with the same organ and I would never in my life deny it.
"Everything always has to be the way you want it, doesn't it? If I'm not up to your standards for a stupid day that revolves around kids getting cavities, you feel the need to comment and attempt to put me down. I'm so glad we don't have a case to work together. Tonight is the best damn night for paperwork."
"Jeez, does everyone know they have paperwork to do," Grissom unconsciously tried to break the tension that had strongly risen in the air.
"Yes," we all frustratingly groaned, too busy with the problem Sara and I created. Greg and Nick always confronted her and me about how they hated us arguing. They always explained how it did absolutely nothing for anyone and frankly it was annoying if not slightly embarrassing.
Sara slammed her hands down hard on the thick, durable glass table and sent me a glare that unwillingly sent a chill down my spine. I turned incredibly cold and for a second, I'm sure my eyes flashed fear. She stood and walked over to Grissom who was still standing and snatched a manila folder. I didn't know how she knew it was hers, but even if it weren't, she wouldn't kill her dramatic exit by taking the right one. When Grissom didn't tell her anything, I assumed she had been overly observant and expected to want to leave early.
I clamped my eyelids shut and fought of an on-coming Sara-induced migraine. The remaining members of the grave shift team, Nick, Greg, and I, expectantly and tiredly stared down Grissom for our own folders. He rummaged through the lot of them and handed them out without a single word. I then trudged to my cupboard of an office to work in more silence for the next couple of hours.
At ten p.m. I decided I needed a break and thought better to get out of the lab than head to the break room. I needed some time away from the restricting, boring walls that were always dark greens and dark blues; too dreary for my taste, especially when pushing paper is involved. I made my way to the parking lot and pounded the button on my keys to unlock my car. The lights brightly flashed once and gave a small, single chirp as the doors were now open. I pulled on the handle to the driver's side when I heard something going on in the shadows of the lot. I quietly shut my door and moved around to the back of my car to get a closer look.
Around the truck area, I squinted to make out two silhouettes in the corner, smashed against a car similar to mine: small and convenient, not like the SUV's we drove around town to our crime scenes. When one of the figures bent backward over the hood of the car, the streetlight shined on their face and I knew the face. The features were tight, check bones high enough for someone their age, brown locks and hazel eyes when they were open: Sara.
I gasped, but immediately resumed my scrunched facial expression to take a closer look at the person who had her moaning on the hood of her own car. Sure enough, another woman, one with jet-black hair that was no longer or shorter than Sara's, dipped down over Sara's body and kissed her chest. I gasped again at the sight. I had never though she would be interested in the same sex. The thought never crossed my mind, but watching the scene play out in front of me, it seemed right. If I knew that fact sooner, I would have jumped at the chance to jump her.
The woman she was with seemed familiar, but I couldn't recall where I had seen her before. She ran her palm flat against Sara's stomach and slid it down her private region I liked not to think about and pushed up a bit to cause friction. Sara grunted in pleasure and then I felt hot liquid seep onto, and partially through, my panties. Sara's reaction was causing me to become wet, and might I add extremely uncomfortable. She had been the one in my dreams, day or night, but I had never thought she could have that effect on me.
Thinking about the situation unraveled before me, I found it strange to find pleasure in watching a coworker of mine and some woman go at it in the parking lot like a Peeping Tom, getting wet while I hid behind my car for privacy and not to be caught staring.
"That what you wanted," the woman asked Sara who I could almost not tell was panting.
"Yeah…that's all I needed…for now. Thanks," she responded, handing over a twenty-dollar bill.
Then I realized whom the woman was I had been trying to place in my mind. She wasn't a prostitute, but a stripper. She had been working at the newest club on the strip that was founded a couple years before and she had been on the payroll since its inception. I'd seen her dance a few times myself, but that was when I was bored or visiting old friends who kept the Vegas entertainment in business. She was good at her job and maybe slightly better than I had been in my day if not as equally ranked.
Sara cleared her throat as the stripper stage named Cherry approached her own car in the lot and drove off. She then ran a hand through her hair to straighten it out and walked around to the driver's side, keys in hand. I crouched down behind my trunk and waited for her car to disappear before I stood and started my process of sliding behind the wheel of my ride all over again.
I found my place at a diner a few miles off the strip where I snuggled into a stool at counter. I took my cat ears off in the car on my way over as not to look like an idiot so I was just all black with leather pants. No questions asked.
The man serving all of those who sat along the edge as I had chose, was in his early thirties with short black hair, faded Levi's with several holes from too much work, large tan work boots as though he worked in construction, and a loose, faded red shirt.
"What can I get you, miss," he asked.
It was the first time in a long time someone hadn't called me ma'am. I smiled and licked my lips a bit.
"I'll just stick with one of those blueberry muffins," I pointed to the display of muffins in a plastic cage where they were held hostage. "And a cup of your French Vanilla and Mint hot chocolate."
He smiled and nodded before walking back into the kitchen to make he order on my drink then reappeared a couple seconds later to retrieve the requested muffin.
"Thank you," I said when he placed the food in front of me.
He smiled and went to wait on someone else at the counter, which only left me time to analyze what happened in the parking lot. When I thought bout something, good outcomes rarely occurred.
Why was she getting serviced on her car for anyone parked directly outside the lab to see? Why Cherry? And since when was Sara attracted to women? The ladder took precedence and happened to be he most confusing question out of the bunch.
I finished my muffin and half my hot chocolate before I asked for a To-Go cup and headed back to work. I had taken no ore than a twenty-minute break, but with paperwork, Grissom would allow the rest of shirt to be the amount of break time.
As I walked down the main all, something lack and red caught my eye. For the first time, I noticed how amazing Sara truly appeared. She as all heart and that somehow lured me to her, but that night, she seemed perfect inside and out.
The devil. She wore black leather pants similar to mine, a diamond shaped red shirt that draped loosely around her stomach because the only support for said shirt wrapped around her back like a bra. The top of the shirtfront though, gripped around her neck like a choker and her bra, which I noticed was red lace, as almost slickly hidden under the shirt's support. Her outfit was complete with black, two and a half inch heels, her brunette hair loosely curled, and point, red horns attached to a red headband.
She suddenly realized I was staring at her and gave me a once over. Everything in that moment played in slow motion for me. Her lips were lightly glossed with yet a powerful shade of red with glitter compacted inside it for full effect. It was equivalent to staring at the sun through the pearly white gate up past cloud nine: magnificent.
Then it all stopped.
She continued through to Grissom's office, gazed forward and never looked backing my direction. The office door shut and clicked in place. Maybe the incident outside was a figment of my imagination. Maybe the rumors I heard where true: she ha the hots for Grissom. Now I was spinning like a little kid being pushed on a manual merry-go-round one found at a local park filled with wood chips and swing sets.
I was doomed.
I sighed and slapped my hand against my forehead before leaving the lab for a second time. I needed to know the truth so my best bet at this point was to talk to Cherry.
Bliss was the hottest club to hot Vegas in over a decade with its flawlessly and constantly cleaned floors, incredible service, every smoking hot bombshell from the newer generations, talented exotic dancers, and all together priceless atmosphere.
I knew a man who talked to all the strippers before they gathered their accessories such as a pink and white feather boas and talked them into thinking independently. He wasn't Jimmy, the man that steered me in the direction of criminal justice, but someone a lot like him.
Darren Dunlop was the kind of guy who would pay for your drink in exchange for five-minute talk. The only time he would hit on you is if you seemed in need of an ego boost. I'd met him before one of my shows one night when Jimmy was a no-show. The two really only co-existed, but Darren would be the one to dominate if ever they decided to fight for the title of Stripper's-Man-of-the-Year.
I smiled when I saw him leave the dressing room as Cherry was announced on stage and watched him approach the bar two stools over from me.
He raised his finger in a way ordering a beer and turned to match the face of the voice calling him for attention.
"Catherine?" My God, what a beautiful surprise... It seems like the Stone Age since I've seen you. Might I add how you continue to never lo a day over twenty?"
He pulled me onto a hug as I smiled at his usual butter-up routine and kissed the side of my head through my hair.
"Yeah, it's great to see you, too. You look even better than last time I remember. What the hell did you do?"
He grinned ear to ear. "I've invested in my body. I go running every morning at six. It's about as good as sex really. Now what on earth are you doing here, precious?"
"Oh, you know, I was just in the neighborhood on account of I want to talk to Amber, Cherry, whatever."
"Ah, she's quite the dancer. Very popular if you ask me. This brunette comes in at least once a week to get a little action from her."
"Yeah, I think I know that brunette. That's part of the reason I even want to talk to Cherry."
"Oh…well if you ask me, she might look like you, but in comparison…she doesn't hold a candle."
"Thanks?" I furrowed my brows for a moment and then it hit me. Amber had near red hair, coming off as a sort of strawberry blonde, similar body structure as she seemed size thirty-four with a near D cup size. Mine were only C's, but I felt it something to compare.
"You know what, maybe I don't need to talk to her after all."
Darren knitted his brows and asked, "Why?"
"I think I should talk to the brunette instead. Now it would seem awkward and rude if I started asking everyone else but the person I should be talking to."
"That sounds like something you'd do," he smiled. "Seems fair, too. That's definitely the major characteristic about you Amber lacks." He smiled again and I headed back to the lab for good until the end of shift.
When I returned, I saw Greg and Sara each portraying the roll of Chatty Cathy in the break room over their respective paperwork. He was eyeing her up and she nonchalantly flirted. I walked in for a cup of coffee having finished my hot cocoa on the ride to Bliss and remembered I as holding my cat ears to put back on. I put them in place on my head and addressed Greg.
"Hey, Greg…got any special blend for Catwoman? She's had an excruciatingly tedious shift and could use a real pick-me-up."
Greg completely turned in his chair to face me and looked e up and down. He grinned and skipped to the coffee pot. "Sure, but only if you give me a kiss on the cheek."
I flashed a friendly smile and leaned in, giving him the kind peck he asked for in his vampire costume. He had fake fangs, a black cape, extra spiked hair, and red and black to seemingly match Sara though the only red article of clothing wore was a red, striped vest.
My lip gloss managed to leave a light stain on his skin and he happily resumed making me the best coffee in the world…at least in the entire lab's opinion anyway.
"Sit down, take a load o," Greg ushered me to the seat next to Sara. She smelled like an Island Getaway and immediately I was intoxicated.
I sat down and tensed, not sure what was going on between Sara and I. I took a deep breath and the second I began to exhale, Sara closed her manila folder, harshly stood, then retreated elsewhere.
"Damn it," I muttered.
That didn't go unnoticed by Greg.
"What the hell is going on here," he asked as my coffee brewed.
"I don't even know! I think it had something to do with the fact that I kind of pushed Sara into wearing a costume. The only thing I don't get though, is that she didn't have to wear one and yet she is! Then she makes this huge deal about it and…ugh, she's so confusing!"
I was beyond frustrated. I started to rethink the coffee at that point, and when it came to Greg's heaven-in-a-plastic-cup I never rethought a damn thing.
"Keep the coffee. I think I'm just gonna get back to work and head out for the night."
Greg nodded though I knew he was thinking that someone had to drink the coffee I passed up because it was going toward a forty-dollar waste. I hated to do it to him, but I just wasn't in the mood for a beverage of any kind other than beer at that point.
I stalked off to the locker room when I heard a fist make impact against the dark, metal lockers. I furrowed my brows and peeked inside the doorway to find Sara shaking out her stinging hand. Her knuckles were red, but not bleeding. Thank God, I thought. Her teeth were gritted and she crossed the pissed line. Now she was furious and I still wasn't one hundred percent sure.
"Are you all right," I asked.
She looked up with fierce brown eyes that told me she could've killed me.
"Leave me alone."
"I can't do that."
"Why the fuck not?!"
"Because I feel responsible, Sara!" Damn my pleading tone.
"Ha, you're damn right you're responsible. Every time I ever do anything, you make me feel like it's still not enough to please you. So tell me Catherine," she stepped into my personal space, "what exactly is it that you want from me?"
He voice was dangerously low and I couldn't resist those menacing but meaningful, deep brown eyes. I took her sore hand in mine and focused on her lips. Before I knew what I was really doing, I crashed my lips against hers and darted my tongue out to play games with hers.
It only took her a few moments to catch up and start kissing back and I had the feeling I'd died and gone to the great big bedroom for her and I in the sky.
I was the devil's mistress when we thrashed through my house to get to the bedroom. She had me in her arms, her hands grasping and pinching my ass as I began to rock myself back and forth against her midriff. She bit me on my collarbone, immediately behind my ear, my earlobe, and raked her teeth down my sternum. By the time she had gotten to my covered breasts, we were in my room.
She rushed me onto my back on the bed and got rid of all my clothes. I watched her undress in record time after she stripped bare and damn it was a sight to see. I groaned with pleasure and spread my legs for her. She grinned and crawled between them.
I was defenseless against her, especially now. She had her hand pressure my thigh and her knee ran along my folds. She began a rhythmic pant that I fell in sync with after a couple seconds.
With both hands, I pushed back her hair as she started rocking and reached upward to run my tongue a single, swift time over one of her erect nipples. She moaned and leaned down, into the touch. She swiped her lips over and up mine so we didn't actually engage in a kiss. Then, I took one of her hands and lowered it to my core. That was what I wanted from her. Right now, I wanted her inside me and because of the urgency, I didn't exactly care how she did it.
"Already," she breathlessly asked. She looked into my eyes and I saw hers had gone black with crave. She was ravenous for it as much as I had been.
All I could do was nod and swallow and lick my lips as they had gone dry along with my mouth. Within the next two seconds, I felt her enter me with two fingers. She set a slow pace at first, then picked up after she got used to the feeling.
I bit my bottom lip and sucked in air as I tightened a fist around a bunch of my hair. I had my other hand feeling all over her body to get a good shape in my head since I felt way too amazing to open my eyes.
I felt her lips graze the spot directly below my ear.
I felt her hot breath stick to my skin at my chest.
I felt her wetness against my thighs as she moved down my body.
I felt her tongue lick my clit.
I felt sheens of sweat coat my body as she worked me.
I felt my climax approaching and cried out her name in the ecstasy that was Sara Sidle.
She came back up my body and kissed me with a fiery passion like before. I had what I wanted from her and yet I still knew something was missing. She smiled into the end of kiss and when she pulled away, straightened out to just be straddling me, I saw it: her glory.
With the look on her face, I would say she was happy. I smiled back, a genuine smile, and sat up. She slid backward and her ass hit the sheets. She giggled and watched me as I leaned against the headboard.
"Come here," I commanded.
She bit her lip and gave me her bedroom eyes again. She already knew how well they would work.
"I know…it's your turn," I lightly laughed as she crawled into my arms.
She was turned around so my front was to her back and I wrapped my arms around her breasts.
I smiled and kissed her forehead. "Do you want it like this? Or should I flip you over right now and have my way with you like you did me?"
She chuckled. "Let's make it interesting."
I raised an eyebrow I knew she couldn't see, but I had paused at the same time so I figured she would sense my curiosity.
"I thought it was already interesting," I said with my sultry tone.
She giggled in a low pitch from deep within her throat and made our fingers dance with each other. Once she got her message across, she led my hand to the promise land. From there, I took control and let my fingers do the talking.
"Happy Halloween, Cat," she strangled out before I fully gave her a release.
"Happy Halloween, Sara," I smiled and whispered into her ear as she calmed down, my fingers still inside until she thoroughly came back down.
"This was way better than trick-or-treating," she said.
I laughed and spun her onto her stomach on me. And we stared in each other's eyes for the next three minutes as the sun rose.
Thanks for reading. Send me a review. The more I get, the more I appriciate your comments. ;) LOL. I hope this was a long enough oneshot to enjoy as well because this one I put a lot of energy into to make it lengthy. :)