Presenting a Cath/Sara fic whose plotbunny has been gnawing my ankles for the past six months.
Pairing: Cath/Sara
Title: Let's Just Get Naked
(or: If It Ain't Love, It Comes Damn Close)
Rating: R, just to be safe. Language, sexual talk and quasi-situations.
Author's Note: This is a songfic, set to "Let's Just Get Naked" by Joan Osbourne. If you have any way to download that and listen to it while you read this, it gives the story a little bit more mood. For me, it's the CathandSara theme song :)
Author's Note Part 2: This is an AU. Also, Lindsay has once again been sent to the interdimensional holding tank.
Author's Note Again: This will be posted on ff.n and moved to my Bound Butterfly archive as soon as I'm back at school.
Review? Please?
Let's Just Get Naked
Catherine was in the kitchen when Sara got home.
Her hair was as dishevelled as her mood, pulled up roughly into a high ponytail on top of her head. Sara took a split second to admire the way the midmorning sun played over the blonde strands that just ticked Catherine's neck. A split second was all she got before Catherine started in on her.
“Sleeping with your supervisor again?” she asked acidly.
Sara shrugged off Catherine's glare. She had known that Catherine would notice the scarf she was wearing the moment she had wrapped the thin, soft fabric around her throat. There was only one time she ever wore that particular scarf. Certain mornings when she took longer than usual in getting home from work; certain mornings when she had illicit hickeys to cover up. Once upon a time she had toyed with the idea of buying turtlenecks and pancake makeup, but she had passed out of that high school-esque phase. Turtlenecks made you look as guilty as scarves did, and makeup couldn't withstand the hot spray of the shower. Or Catherine's kisses.
Tossing her duffel bag to the floor, Sara walked into the living room, passing into the kitchen. Catherine's anger crackled in the air around her as she pressed up behind the older woman. Catherine pretended not to like it when Sara slid her hands around her waist, slowly running them up her sides, coming to rest at her shoulders. A smile touched Sara's lips, but not her eyes, as she pulled down a shoulder of Cath's tank top. Her nail left behind a reddening welt on Catherine's skin as she uncovered a bright red bra strap. Under her hands, Catherine stiffened. Sara slipped her fingers under the elastic, pulling it up as far as she could, releasing it. Smiling as the loud snapping sound echoed through the otherwise silent room. Catherine winced, and Sara grinned as she whispered in her ear.
“Pot and the kettle, sweetheart,” she said, ignoring Catherine's shiver as the air currents of Sara's words swirled around her jawline. “You never wear that one for me- only for Eddie. Don't insult my intelligence by thinking I don't notice.”
Her fingers left a few more scratches on Catherine's shoulders as she pulled her hands away, punctuating her statement by shoving Catherine away from her and turning to open the refrigerator.
I know what you're hidin' from me
You know what I'm hidin' from you
I know that you hurt me real bad
You know that I hurt you bad too
Neither spoke as Sara rummaged around. Catherine had turned around, studying Sara carefully, watching as the ends of her scarf dangled on the tile. Seeing an opportunity, Cath reached out, pulling the scarf off while Sara's hands were full of orange juice and vodka.
“What are you doing?”
Cath gave the scarf a final tug instead of a verbal response, throwing the offending strip of fabric over the kitchen counter and into the living room, where it came to rest on the edge of the couch.
Her fingers traced the outline of the fresh bruises on Sara's skin. She made tsking noises, enjoying watching Sara squirm as she pressed the raw marks harder than she should have.
“So what does he have that I don't, huh? I could be that rough, if you wanted me to.”
Sara jerked away, setting the bottles down on next to the sink and reaching up into the cabinets for glasses. “I'm sure you could be.”
“...You know, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to resort to sleeping with what's his face if you want me to-”
Vodka splashed into the glass. “Are we going to go through this again? This isn't some kind of sexual cry for help, and his name is Gr-”
“-tear you into little pieces, leave you broken and vulnerable in a supply closet in some lab. If you want to get roughed up, I'm perfectly capable of roughing you up. Sometimes I think you forget that.” Catherine flicked a perfectly manicured fingernail against one of Sara's love bites.
“No. I don't forget that. I just get bored, waiting for you to finish fucking you boss, and by the time you're done with him, you're too used up for anything else.” Sara topped off the vodka with a splash or orange juice and handed the drink to Catherine.
The silence returned as Sara fixed her own drink. The tension had bled away, the way it always did. This was a scene that had been repeated over and over again; neither one realized that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if the cheating dynamic were removed from their relationship. They were the poster children for fucked up, but they made it work.
Catherine took a sip of her screwdriver. "Why do we do this to each other, Sara?"
"Fuck if I know."
"What are we going to do to fix it?"
Sara twirled her glass in her hands. "Who says there's anything to fix? What if, instead of dating each other, we're dating them, and cheating on them with each other? Maybe we're getting away with something. I think I like the feeling of that."
Catherine didn't feel like getting distracted by deep thoughts. "Fix it, Sara."
"Fine." Sara put her drink down. "Take your clothes off."
"So sex is going to fix it. Figures. You're insatiable."
"I didn't say anything about sex. Let's just get naked. We'll get naked and walk around the house."
"Which will accomplish...?"
"Who the hell knows? But it's a start."
Catherine considered this for a minute. Then she started to unbuckle Sara's jeans.
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half
The first thing you learned when you worked a night shift on any sort of job was the values of daytime TV.
Sara took a drink of vodka straight out of the bottle and passed it to Catherine before changing the channel. Catherine draped a leg over one of Sara's, grabbed the bottle, and then grabbed the remote. Lying around in bed with no clothes on was condusive to that sort of behavior. Catherine pretended to ignore the hickeys on Sara's neck and chest and Sara pretended to ignore the marks around Cath's wrists and waist that she hadn't noticed before. She guessed that they both liked it rough sometimes, and half wished they didn't have to look outside of each other for it.
"Hey, Sara, look. You're on COPS again."
"Shit."
They watched with detached amusement (Catherine) and annoyance (Sara) as Sara picked her way around the scene of a quadruple homicide that she'd worked three months ago. The camera would pick up on her now and then, glancing over the curves of her ass as she bent to pick up a bullet casing. Sara remembered that day; the way the show's people had shadowed them from crime scene to crime scene, the cameraman flirting with her incessantly as the seedy Vegas night wore on.
Sara buried her head in the crook of Catherine's neck. "Ugh, turn it off," she begged. Catherine laughed at her and clicked to another show.
"They're showing reruns of CSI:Miami on Spike TV," she replied. "I was watching it before. This is the one where they call in that gun specialist to match the caliber of the modified gun to-"
Sara interuppted her. "Tell me about something I don't know. For christ's sake, Cath, if you want puzzles to solve I'll bring you back case files from work. This is such a crappy show. It's unreal."
Irritated, Catherine changed the channel again. "Sorry, all right? Fuck, Sara. Sorry it interests me."
The younger woman scowled and ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Yeah, well, maybe if you used some of the money you got from stripping and put yourself through school, you could be doing what I do. Hell, let's dye our hair and switch places. You could go screw around with murder vicitms and I'll dress up as a French maid and strip for drunken assholes."
"Don't be such a bitch. I wasn't the one who decided that my life would turn out as shitty as it did."
"You didn't stop taking your clothes off, though, did you. You didn't try to pull yourself out of it."
"Fuck off, Sara." Catherine reached over and pinched her.
"What the hell...! That fucking hurt, Cath," Sara whined.
"Then quit being a jerk. I didn't tell that camera guy to hit on you, okay."
Glaring, Sara rolled over. They ignored each other for a full five minutes while the credits rolled and an episode of CSI:NY started. In some sort of apology, Sara broke the silence.
"Whatever. I guess Gary Sinese is kind of hot."
Catherine nodded, running her hands over Sara's ribcage, smiling inwardly at the goosebumps her touch illicited. She kissed her way up Sara' shoulder blades to the juncture of her shoulder and neck, pulling Sara back towards her and into her embrace. Snuggling into the covers, they mindlessly watched the TV, each winding down after a long night and a long morning. Suddenly Sara sat up. "Shit," she muttered. "Shit shit."
"What?"
"I forgot to pay the phone bill."
"So?"
"So? So they're going to shut the phone off."
Catherine pulled Sara back down. "Who cares. They'll give it a couple of days, you can pay it tomorrow or whenever."
"I guess."
They contemplated this.
"So," Cath continued, in an amazing feat of jump-the-track-thinking, "you think we'll get laid before they shut the phone off?"
Sara quirked her lips in a wry smile. "With you involved? That's one of the stupidest questions ever asked." And then she kissed her.
Here comes that story again
All about that television show
Here comes my typical response
Won't you tell me something I don't know
And I'm pissed off about bein' on cops
And you're pissed off about bein' a maid
And how long till they shut off the phone
Till the next time we get laid
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half...
A trip and a half
When Sara woke up, the sun was almost finished setting. She could hear Catherine in the bathroom, getting ready go to to work. If she closed her eyes, she could see her blowing out her blonde hair and putting on her eyeliner with a flawlessly steady hand. Sometimes, when Sara wore eyeliner, she'd have Catherine put it on for her. When Cath helped Sara put on her makeup, her hands weren't always so steady; sometimes they trembled, and in the end they'd wind up tangled up on the floor, kissing each other stupid.
Maybe she'd go out and buy some more makeup after all.
Groaning slightly, Sara pulled herself up and headed for the bathroom. The door was cracked open a foot or so, and she admired the hazy reflection of Catherine's body in the mirror, still steamy from Cath's shower. She debated on whether or not to be hurt that Catherine hadn't woken her up so they could take a shower together, and decided that it wasn't worth it. They'd adjusted to each other's schedules a long time ago; Catherine went into the French Palace relatively early, and Sara needed the extra sleep that came with working graveyard. Besides, Catherine had caught the flash of Sara's brown eyes in the reflection, and she was smiling at her. No hard feelings.
Sara liked that despite all their issues, they could still read each other perfectly. She liked how they were so in tune with each other.
She pushed the door open and blinked at the brightness of the bathroom light. Catherine laughed at her, thinking that she looked like a little kid, blinking the sleep from her eyes, not quite aware of how crazy her hair looked. "Hi," she grinned.
Sara wrapped her arms around Catherine's waist and leaned her chin on her shoulder, hugging her tightly. "Mmm. Hi."
Catherine closed her eyes for a few moments, just enjoying being held. When she opened them, she noticed a blue smudge on the back of Sara's hand. It hadn't quite faded with repeated scrubbings.
"You came in to watch me dance again?" she asked, running a fingertip over the day old stamp.
"Mmmmm yep." Sara kissed Cath's cheek. "I love to watch you dance. I love watching you dance when you don't know I'm there, too."
"I love watching you on COPS. You're my favorite cop. Why don't you pull me over more often?"
Sara giggled and let her laughter fade away into a contented sigh. She knew that this was the closest they would ever get to gooey, lovey-dovey small talk. This was as close they would get to saying they loved each other, and she was okay with that. It was enough. "You're the nicest place I've ever been," she said.
Catherine turned to her, touching her lips to Sara's in the barest scorching touch of a kiss.
"Glad we got naked," she replied.
Sara knew what she meant.
We've been together so long
I hope it wasn't just the drugs
What happened to the energy we had
The morning glories and the rodeo hugs
And I know you like the back of my hand
With a stamp that says I paid to get in
And yes I am your television show
And you're the nicest place I've ever been
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It wouldn't be so bad...
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half...
Also posted to the CathandSara LJ Community.
Permanent link:
http://www.livejournal.com/community/cathandsara/175382.html
Title: Let's Just Get Naked
(or: If It Ain't Love, It Comes Damn Close)
Rating: R, just to be safe. Language, sexual talk and quasi-situations.
Author's Note: This is a songfic, set to "Let's Just Get Naked" by Joan Osbourne. If you have any way to download that and listen to it while you read this, it gives the story a little bit more mood. For me, it's the CathandSara theme song :)
Author's Note Part 2: This is an AU. Also, Lindsay has once again been sent to the interdimensional holding tank.
Author's Note Again: This will be posted on ff.n and moved to my Bound Butterfly archive as soon as I'm back at school.
Review? Please?
Let's Just Get Naked
Catherine was in the kitchen when Sara got home.
Her hair was as dishevelled as her mood, pulled up roughly into a high ponytail on top of her head. Sara took a split second to admire the way the midmorning sun played over the blonde strands that just ticked Catherine's neck. A split second was all she got before Catherine started in on her.
“Sleeping with your supervisor again?” she asked acidly.
Sara shrugged off Catherine's glare. She had known that Catherine would notice the scarf she was wearing the moment she had wrapped the thin, soft fabric around her throat. There was only one time she ever wore that particular scarf. Certain mornings when she took longer than usual in getting home from work; certain mornings when she had illicit hickeys to cover up. Once upon a time she had toyed with the idea of buying turtlenecks and pancake makeup, but she had passed out of that high school-esque phase. Turtlenecks made you look as guilty as scarves did, and makeup couldn't withstand the hot spray of the shower. Or Catherine's kisses.
Tossing her duffel bag to the floor, Sara walked into the living room, passing into the kitchen. Catherine's anger crackled in the air around her as she pressed up behind the older woman. Catherine pretended not to like it when Sara slid her hands around her waist, slowly running them up her sides, coming to rest at her shoulders. A smile touched Sara's lips, but not her eyes, as she pulled down a shoulder of Cath's tank top. Her nail left behind a reddening welt on Catherine's skin as she uncovered a bright red bra strap. Under her hands, Catherine stiffened. Sara slipped her fingers under the elastic, pulling it up as far as she could, releasing it. Smiling as the loud snapping sound echoed through the otherwise silent room. Catherine winced, and Sara grinned as she whispered in her ear.
“Pot and the kettle, sweetheart,” she said, ignoring Catherine's shiver as the air currents of Sara's words swirled around her jawline. “You never wear that one for me- only for Eddie. Don't insult my intelligence by thinking I don't notice.”
Her fingers left a few more scratches on Catherine's shoulders as she pulled her hands away, punctuating her statement by shoving Catherine away from her and turning to open the refrigerator.
I know what you're hidin' from me
You know what I'm hidin' from you
I know that you hurt me real bad
You know that I hurt you bad too
Neither spoke as Sara rummaged around. Catherine had turned around, studying Sara carefully, watching as the ends of her scarf dangled on the tile. Seeing an opportunity, Cath reached out, pulling the scarf off while Sara's hands were full of orange juice and vodka.
“What are you doing?”
Cath gave the scarf a final tug instead of a verbal response, throwing the offending strip of fabric over the kitchen counter and into the living room, where it came to rest on the edge of the couch.
Her fingers traced the outline of the fresh bruises on Sara's skin. She made tsking noises, enjoying watching Sara squirm as she pressed the raw marks harder than she should have.
“So what does he have that I don't, huh? I could be that rough, if you wanted me to.”
Sara jerked away, setting the bottles down on next to the sink and reaching up into the cabinets for glasses. “I'm sure you could be.”
“...You know, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to resort to sleeping with what's his face if you want me to-”
Vodka splashed into the glass. “Are we going to go through this again? This isn't some kind of sexual cry for help, and his name is Gr-”
“-tear you into little pieces, leave you broken and vulnerable in a supply closet in some lab. If you want to get roughed up, I'm perfectly capable of roughing you up. Sometimes I think you forget that.” Catherine flicked a perfectly manicured fingernail against one of Sara's love bites.
“No. I don't forget that. I just get bored, waiting for you to finish fucking you boss, and by the time you're done with him, you're too used up for anything else.” Sara topped off the vodka with a splash or orange juice and handed the drink to Catherine.
The silence returned as Sara fixed her own drink. The tension had bled away, the way it always did. This was a scene that had been repeated over and over again; neither one realized that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if the cheating dynamic were removed from their relationship. They were the poster children for fucked up, but they made it work.
Catherine took a sip of her screwdriver. "Why do we do this to each other, Sara?"
"Fuck if I know."
"What are we going to do to fix it?"
Sara twirled her glass in her hands. "Who says there's anything to fix? What if, instead of dating each other, we're dating them, and cheating on them with each other? Maybe we're getting away with something. I think I like the feeling of that."
Catherine didn't feel like getting distracted by deep thoughts. "Fix it, Sara."
"Fine." Sara put her drink down. "Take your clothes off."
"So sex is going to fix it. Figures. You're insatiable."
"I didn't say anything about sex. Let's just get naked. We'll get naked and walk around the house."
"Which will accomplish...?"
"Who the hell knows? But it's a start."
Catherine considered this for a minute. Then she started to unbuckle Sara's jeans.
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half
The first thing you learned when you worked a night shift on any sort of job was the values of daytime TV.
Sara took a drink of vodka straight out of the bottle and passed it to Catherine before changing the channel. Catherine draped a leg over one of Sara's, grabbed the bottle, and then grabbed the remote. Lying around in bed with no clothes on was condusive to that sort of behavior. Catherine pretended to ignore the hickeys on Sara's neck and chest and Sara pretended to ignore the marks around Cath's wrists and waist that she hadn't noticed before. She guessed that they both liked it rough sometimes, and half wished they didn't have to look outside of each other for it.
"Hey, Sara, look. You're on COPS again."
"Shit."
They watched with detached amusement (Catherine) and annoyance (Sara) as Sara picked her way around the scene of a quadruple homicide that she'd worked three months ago. The camera would pick up on her now and then, glancing over the curves of her ass as she bent to pick up a bullet casing. Sara remembered that day; the way the show's people had shadowed them from crime scene to crime scene, the cameraman flirting with her incessantly as the seedy Vegas night wore on.
Sara buried her head in the crook of Catherine's neck. "Ugh, turn it off," she begged. Catherine laughed at her and clicked to another show.
"They're showing reruns of CSI:Miami on Spike TV," she replied. "I was watching it before. This is the one where they call in that gun specialist to match the caliber of the modified gun to-"
Sara interuppted her. "Tell me about something I don't know. For christ's sake, Cath, if you want puzzles to solve I'll bring you back case files from work. This is such a crappy show. It's unreal."
Irritated, Catherine changed the channel again. "Sorry, all right? Fuck, Sara. Sorry it interests me."
The younger woman scowled and ran her fingers through her dark hair. "Yeah, well, maybe if you used some of the money you got from stripping and put yourself through school, you could be doing what I do. Hell, let's dye our hair and switch places. You could go screw around with murder vicitms and I'll dress up as a French maid and strip for drunken assholes."
"Don't be such a bitch. I wasn't the one who decided that my life would turn out as shitty as it did."
"You didn't stop taking your clothes off, though, did you. You didn't try to pull yourself out of it."
"Fuck off, Sara." Catherine reached over and pinched her.
"What the hell...! That fucking hurt, Cath," Sara whined.
"Then quit being a jerk. I didn't tell that camera guy to hit on you, okay."
Glaring, Sara rolled over. They ignored each other for a full five minutes while the credits rolled and an episode of CSI:NY started. In some sort of apology, Sara broke the silence.
"Whatever. I guess Gary Sinese is kind of hot."
Catherine nodded, running her hands over Sara's ribcage, smiling inwardly at the goosebumps her touch illicited. She kissed her way up Sara' shoulder blades to the juncture of her shoulder and neck, pulling Sara back towards her and into her embrace. Snuggling into the covers, they mindlessly watched the TV, each winding down after a long night and a long morning. Suddenly Sara sat up. "Shit," she muttered. "Shit shit."
"What?"
"I forgot to pay the phone bill."
"So?"
"So? So they're going to shut the phone off."
Catherine pulled Sara back down. "Who cares. They'll give it a couple of days, you can pay it tomorrow or whenever."
"I guess."
They contemplated this.
"So," Cath continued, in an amazing feat of jump-the-track-thinking, "you think we'll get laid before they shut the phone off?"
Sara quirked her lips in a wry smile. "With you involved? That's one of the stupidest questions ever asked." And then she kissed her.
Here comes that story again
All about that television show
Here comes my typical response
Won't you tell me something I don't know
And I'm pissed off about bein' on cops
And you're pissed off about bein' a maid
And how long till they shut off the phone
Till the next time we get laid
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half...
A trip and a half
When Sara woke up, the sun was almost finished setting. She could hear Catherine in the bathroom, getting ready go to to work. If she closed her eyes, she could see her blowing out her blonde hair and putting on her eyeliner with a flawlessly steady hand. Sometimes, when Sara wore eyeliner, she'd have Catherine put it on for her. When Cath helped Sara put on her makeup, her hands weren't always so steady; sometimes they trembled, and in the end they'd wind up tangled up on the floor, kissing each other stupid.
Maybe she'd go out and buy some more makeup after all.
Groaning slightly, Sara pulled herself up and headed for the bathroom. The door was cracked open a foot or so, and she admired the hazy reflection of Catherine's body in the mirror, still steamy from Cath's shower. She debated on whether or not to be hurt that Catherine hadn't woken her up so they could take a shower together, and decided that it wasn't worth it. They'd adjusted to each other's schedules a long time ago; Catherine went into the French Palace relatively early, and Sara needed the extra sleep that came with working graveyard. Besides, Catherine had caught the flash of Sara's brown eyes in the reflection, and she was smiling at her. No hard feelings.
Sara liked that despite all their issues, they could still read each other perfectly. She liked how they were so in tune with each other.
She pushed the door open and blinked at the brightness of the bathroom light. Catherine laughed at her, thinking that she looked like a little kid, blinking the sleep from her eyes, not quite aware of how crazy her hair looked. "Hi," she grinned.
Sara wrapped her arms around Catherine's waist and leaned her chin on her shoulder, hugging her tightly. "Mmm. Hi."
Catherine closed her eyes for a few moments, just enjoying being held. When she opened them, she noticed a blue smudge on the back of Sara's hand. It hadn't quite faded with repeated scrubbings.
"You came in to watch me dance again?" she asked, running a fingertip over the day old stamp.
"Mmmmm yep." Sara kissed Cath's cheek. "I love to watch you dance. I love watching you dance when you don't know I'm there, too."
"I love watching you on COPS. You're my favorite cop. Why don't you pull me over more often?"
Sara giggled and let her laughter fade away into a contented sigh. She knew that this was the closest they would ever get to gooey, lovey-dovey small talk. This was as close they would get to saying they loved each other, and she was okay with that. It was enough. "You're the nicest place I've ever been," she said.
Catherine turned to her, touching her lips to Sara's in the barest scorching touch of a kiss.
"Glad we got naked," she replied.
Sara knew what she meant.
We've been together so long
I hope it wasn't just the drugs
What happened to the energy we had
The morning glories and the rodeo hugs
And I know you like the back of my hand
With a stamp that says I paid to get in
And yes I am your television show
And you're the nicest place I've ever been
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It wouldn't be so bad...
Let's just get naked
Just for a laugh
Let's just get naked
It's a trip and a half...
Also posted to the CathandSara LJ Community.
Permanent link:
http://www.livejournal.com/community/cathandsara/175382.html