Summary: Catherine and Sara visit
Lady Heather’s.
Pairing: Sara/Catherine (CSI)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. Boo hoo.
Spoilers: Set some unspecified time
between “Slaves of Las Vegas” and “Lady Heather’s Box.” A few casual references
scattered throughout.
Feedback: You bet.
A/N: This is a response to Wend’s
challenge on the CatherineSaraLove site titled Lady Heather’s Place. I got all
the requirements except one…I think. Three wisemen? Please. I tried for hours…
Here are the posted requirements:
Scenario: Sara & Catherine
either investigating or 'playing' at Lady Heathers.
Lines to use:
Spanner in the works.
You are not using that on me!
Three wisemen
Honey if you can't beat'em, join'em.
Velvet rope - Rope burn.
Bonus points if Grissom gets dumped or slapped down by one of our ladies!
A/N2: As always, my humble thanks to zigpal.
Friend, inspiration, and beta.
She’d driven around the block four
times, sat in the car talking to herself, and now here she was. Catherine
wondered if she could do it. Knock on the door and actually talk about this.
She had to. If she backed out now, Sara might slip out of reach forever. Catherine
was tired of watching the other woman struggle through life, over-focused on
work and choosing the wrong partners. This was it. Time to put up or shut up.
Raising her hand, she banged the ornate brass knocker against the heavy wooden
door.
The sound echoed hollowly in the
cool night air. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her short leather coat,
Catherine rocked back and forth on her heels, fighting the urge to sprint to
her car and drive away. She was so busy concentrating on not leaving she jumped
visibly when the door opened.
“Catherine, what a surprise. I
never expected you to come in outside of work.” Lady Heather smiled slightly
and stepped back, gesturing for Catherine to come inside. “You are here on your
off-time, right? There hasn’t been another murder involving one of my girls?”
“No,” Catherine managed to
respond. The single word answer was husky and tight. She hadn’t been this
nervous before her first night on the stage. She saw an eyebrow rise slowly and
grimaced at Lady Heather. “I, um, wanted to talk to you…professionally.”
Surprise flickered in the green
eyes before Lady Heather’s usual cool arrogance reasserted itself. “Of course.
Did you want to try out one of our playrooms? Or did you have something else in
mind?”
Catherine’s skin burned. She was
sure the blush was visible even in the dim lighting. “Look, I’m not here for a
little slap and tickle,” she snapped. Anger helped push her nerves away. “I
just need some advice.”
“Forgive me, Catherine.” A warm
hand brushed Catherine’s arm. “You seemed uneasy and with the mention of seeing
me professionally…” Lady Heather shrugged. “I’m afraid I jumped to
conclusions.” She smiled fully, the Domme disappearing with the expression.
“Can I offer you some tea? There are even some scones left if you’re hungry.”
The change in Heather helped
Catherine regain her composure. “Just some water, thanks. Sorry for losing it.
I’ve been a little stressed lately.”
“No problem. I understand
completely.” Heather led them to an ornately appointed sitting room. While
Catherine examined the furnishings and personal items, her hostess pulled a
velvet rope dangling from the ceiling. A mellow chime sounded deep in the
interior of the large house. Seconds later, a handsome man in full butler
regalia bowed at the door.
“My Lady?” His voice carried a
hint of the Deep South, not the English bite Catherine had expected.
Heather barely glanced at him. “A
water for my guest. My usual.” With another bow, the man disappeared.
Catherine realized her time was
up. She couldn’t stall anymore. “Alright. I have this problem with a
co-worker.”
***
Swallowing against a sudden surge
of nausea, Catherine watched Sara set her kit on the thick carpet and glance
around the room with wide eyes. “Wow. This is…” Sara broke off, grinning.
“Sick, twisted, an affront to
decency?” Catherine probed. She held her breath, waiting for an answer.
Sara gave her a questioning look.
“Since when did you grow morals?” The words hung in the air. Catherine noted
the tide of red rising up Sara’s face. “Sorry, Cath, that just slipped out.”
Brown eyes pleaded for understanding and forgiveness.
Not wanting Sara to see just how
susceptible she was to that look Catherine frowned fiercely. “Process the
scene. I’m going to talk to Lady Heather.”
“Sure. I can do that,” Sara’s
mumbled words followed Catherine down the long hallway. She smirked to herself.
So far, things were going as planned. Sara’s slip of the tongue added a little
authenticity to her game. Rounding a corner, she knocked on the plain wooden
door guarding Lady Heather’s inner sanctum. The knock was pro forma. Not
waiting for an answer, Catherine turned the knob and stepped inside.
“Catherine.” Lady Heather smiled
from her seat behind a small table. Grissom sat next to her, the remains of
breakfast on his plate. “Everything alright? Do you need help?”
Catherine shook her head. “No. So
far so good. Sara’s busy processing.”
Lady Heather smirked. “Is she
dedicated and focused, your Sara?”
“Very.” Catherine shared an
understanding look with the Domme.
“That’s not always a bad thing.”
The cool voice was edged with laughter. “You just need to teach the sub a
better place for all that hard work.” Lady Heather stroked Grissom’s hand.
“Isn’t that right, Gil?”
Clearing his throat, Grissom fiddled
with his glasses.
She winked at Catherine and took a
sip from her cup. “I’m afraid Gil’s upset with you, Catherine. He thought he
had a chance with your Sara.”
“Really?” Catherine had known
that. It was just fun to watch her boss grind his teeth, and glare impotently
at her. “It would never have happened. Sara’s too smart for that.” She paused,
smiling wryly. “Well, maybe not. Her taste in men is almost as bad as mine.”
Glancing at her watch, Catherine
stood. “I just wanted to thank you again for setting up the scene for me. I
know it was a little more involved than your usual.”
“Oh, it was no trouble.” Lady
Heather stood and came around the table. “Gil provided the technical support.
Too bad he forgot his manners when I told him it was for you and Sara.” She
wrapped an arm around Catherine’s waist and walked her back to the door.
“Remember, Catherine. It’s all in the attitude. Be strong. Be confident. Most
of all: be what she wants and needs.”
Smiling wryly, Catherine stepped
back into the hallway. “Good advice. The question in…can I do that?”
An eyebrow climbed toward Lady
Heather’s hairline. “What was rule number two, Catherine?”
“Be confident.” Catherine locked
her doubts away and stood straight. “Thanks again, Lady Heather.” The door
closed with a soft thud. “Be confident. Be confident.” Repeating the phrase
over and over, Catherine marched back to the ‘crime scene.’
Sara was huddled on the floor,
plucking at the carpet with tweezers. Taking a moment to admire the sight of
Sara’s jeans-clad ass, Catherine leaned against the doorjamb. “Find anything?”
she called out. She knew the answer already. After all, she’d been the one to
design the ‘murder.’
“Some strange looking fibers.”
Sara sat back on her heels and looked over her shoulder. “What about you?
Anything from the Lady of the House?”
Catherine merely shrugged, moving
closer. “Not really. She’s a cool customer. Gil’s with her now. Maybe he’ll
have better luck.” Or not. Catherine hid a grin, remembering his stiff posture
and silence when she’d been talking with the Domme. He hadn’t looked at all
lucky. Moving on with her plan,
Catherine snapped on a pair of latex gloves and peered around the room.
“I get the feeling we’re missing
something,” she remarked. Although she pretended to scan the scene, her
attention was focused on Sara’s reaction.
Nodding, Sara stood up and moved
closer to Catherine. “I agree. I can’t track the progression of the crime. Did
the perp tie the victim up first? Then do the deed? Or was the stage set after
the murder?”
This was going to be too easy.
“I don’t know.” Catherine bent
over and looked at a picture of the victim lying on the floor. “What’s even
harder to understand is: why aren’t there any defensive wounds? Who lets their
killer tie them up and strangle them, all without a single defensive wound?”
She dangled the bait, waiting to see if Sara would bite.
Sara crossed her arms over her
chest and spun around slowly. “You want to run it?” There it went - hook, line,
and sinker.
“Sure.” Taking Sara by the arm,
she led her to the doorway. “Let’s do it right, though. From the top.”
Although Sara looked surprised by
Catherine’s quick start, she nodded. “So I bring you here because-“
“No.” Catherine interrupted. “The
victim was brunette, about your size. Let’s change roles.” She mentally laughed
at the slight flush crawling up Sara’s neck. “I bring you here to play. We’ve
met before, work together, in fact.” Catherine moved behind Sara, a hand
resting in the small of her back. “Are you nervous?” she asked, not making it
clear if she meant Sara the investigator or Sara the victim.
Sara cleared her throat. “Yeah, a
little.” Her voice shook slightly.
“Don’t be. We know each other
really well, even if this is our first time here.” Using light pressure, she
guided Sara across the room. They stopped at the foot of a massive four poster
bed covered in rich mahogany silk. “We’re exploring. So…” Catherine stroked a
finger over Sara’s neck, eyes drifting partially closed at just being able to
touch the other woman. “Kneel.”
“What?” Sara stiffened, and
Catherine gripped her shoulder.
Pressing down, Catherine repeated,
“Kneel. I’d have you kneel here, eyes on the bed. The bed where I’d make you
mine.” Through continued pressure, she finally got Sara on her knees. “Hmmm,
something’s not right.” She broke the scene deliberately, sensing Sara was
about to panic. “Maybe…” Catherine stepped to Sara’s right and looked down.
“It’s the position. Why don’t you rest on your heels? Maybe put your hands
behind you, right hand on top of the left, palms up?”
She got a mocking smile in
response. “You seem to know a lot about this, Cath. There something you want to
tell me?”
Catherine laughed. “Honey, I
learned a long time ago, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. A lot of the men I
met when I danced ate this stuff up. Tips were better if you could play a
part.”
Sara shook her head, relaxing.
“Guess I never thought of that. OK, how did you want me again?”
It took a minute for Catherine to
clear the sexual haze from her mind at Sara’s innocent question. When she
finally answered, her voice was deeper than normal. “Kneeling, hands behind
your back.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sara took the position
Catherine had described.
Sweat broke out all over Catherine’s
body at the sight. Stick to the plan, she cautioned herself. “You stay
there. I’ll go and grab a few items from the toy chest.” She strode quickly
across the room, opening the ornate armoire against the far wall. Raising her
voice so Sara could hear her, she continued, “Since it’s our first time, I
wouldn’t pull anything too heavy. For tonight, just some rope, a paddle…”
Catherine paused, fingers gliding over the various instruments inside. “A nice
cherrywood paddle, I think. And then, something to make you feel good after
your spanking.” A harness and dildo joined the items in her hands.
“You really think this is how it
happened?” Sara had broken position. She now sat on the floor, watching
Catherine’s return. Her eyes widened, the irises darkening when she saw the
tools of the trade Catherine carried. “Wow! That’s…that’s big, Cath. There is
no way you are using that on me.”
“Sara,” Catherine reminded her
coworker, “we’re just calling the scene, remember?” For now she finished
internally. By the time this charade was over, Catherine intended for at least
a part of the scene to be real.
Sara grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Ducking her head, she rubbed the back of her neck. “Got a little carried away
when I saw that monster.”
Smirking, Catherine dumped her items
on the bed. “Where should you be?” She injected a hint of command into the
words, smiling in satisfaction when Sara immediately resumed kneeling.
“Sorry. I’ll get the hang of this
yet,” Sara announced.
“That’s why we came here.”
Catherine was adlibbing now. It wasn’t about the fake crime scene anymore. She
wanted to feel Sara out, tailor the next few minutes to her needs.
Sara nodded. “Right. Um…what do I
want?”
She sounded very young and nervous
again. Hoping this was the real Sara and not the pretend victim, Catherine ordered,
“I can’t tell you that. You have to tell me.” Her voice was soft but firm. She
was in control of the scene. Sara just had to tell her where to direct her
energies.
Moving to where Sara knelt, stiff
and uncooperative, Catherine went down on one knee. Her breasts pressed into
the brunette’s right arm and shoulder, her lips centimeters from Sara’s ear.
“This is where things get complicated, Sara. If the sub doesn’t know what she
wants, how does the Domme know the best way to care for her needs?” She made
sure to keep her voice low, beguiling, and let her breath warm Sara’s ear.
Goosebumps erupted on Sara’s arm.
Catherine felt the flesh pebble. “Yeah,” Sara choked out. “That…” she coughed,
“that would certainly throw a spanner in the works.”
Rolling her eyes, Catherine
wondered if Sara talked like a science nerd even in bed. “You could say that.”
She let the mood shift a little, then brought them back on topic. “What do you
like, Sara? Should I simply take you? Hard and fast?” Catherine saw Sara’s eyes
flicker to the bed, locking onto the faux phallus. “Or would you prefer a
little warm up first? Want to bend over the bed and let me add a few marks with
the paddle?”
“Cath!” Sara’s eyes dropped
closed. A flush colored her neck and cheeks.
Because she was so close,
Catherine could see the sweat gathering at the nape of Sara’s neck. Sara’s
breath sounded ragged, labored. Biting back a grin, Catherine slowly pulled
away. The scene required patience. Touching Sara was not the way to manage
that. It was time for Sara to make some choices. Pushing a little harder,
Catherine ordered, “Tell me what you want, Sara.”
A frantic headshake was her only
answer.
“Fine,” Catherine nearly purred.
“We’ll do this the hard way.” Standing, she gripped Sara’s shoulder. “Get up.”
The brunette was stiff with anger,
but she rose. “Cath-“
Catherine snapped her hand up,
cutting off the protest. “Finish the scene.” They locked eyes, fighting for
control. Catherine’s hands clenched at her sides, all her muscles tensed. She
couldn’t lose this battle. Finally, when she thought she might scream from the
silent struggle, Sara dropped her eyes. Catherine slumped forward, body
trembling. Relief made her dizzy for a minute.
Pulling herself together, she
picked up the scene. “Bend over, chest resting on the bed, hands behind your
back.” Satisfaction and desire snaked through her when Sara did as directed.
She picked up a length of velvet rope. Time to get back on track with the plan.
Catherine looped the soft and supple cord around Sara’s wrists, murmuring, “Do
you know why I’m using velvet, Sara?”
Sara seemed to be having trouble
talking. It took three tries before a she got out a husky, “No.”
“No rope burns.” Letting that bit
of information work its way through Sara’s brain, Catherine finished binding
the other woman. With shaking hands, Catherine caressed Sara through her jeans.
“So beautiful.” The words slipped out before she could censor them. Stepping
back, Catherine gripped the paddle firmly in her right hand. She could do this.
As her hand rose, Sara turned her
head. The brown eyes were wide. Catherine froze. “You set this up!”
Busted. It didn’t even matter how
Sara had figured it out. Catherine lowered her arm and tossed the wood back
onto the bed. “Yeah. Every last detail.” She was suddenly cold. So close. She’d
been so close to getting Sara where she wanted her. “Let me untie you,” she
said flatly.
“Why?” A tiny smirk crept across
Sara’s face. “You were doing so well at figuring out what I wanted.”