CSI-fic: Whatever people say about falling in love (4/15)
Title: Whatever people say about falling in love
Author: TXLtoSFO
Fandom: CSI:LV
Pairing: Sara Sidle/Sofia Curtis
Rating: PG-13 overall I'd say
Disclaimer: CSI, its characters, places, and situations are property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis and CBS Productions. This story was written for entertainment, not monetary purposes. Original characters, and this story are intellectual property of the author. Any similarities to existing characters, fictional or real, living or dead, are coincidental and no harm is intended.
Spoiler/Warnings: None
Summary: Everything's not lost, though it seems that way after a major break-up. But life has a way of throwing heady stuff at you when you expect it the least. Maybe it's worth starting all over again?
Notes: A dream.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Whatever people say about falling in love
Chapter 4
As I fall asleep late at night, a strange image flashes through my mind just seconds before Morpheus claims me whole. The look on Sofia's face as I smiled back after she greeted me. Smug, which is nothing special or new when it comes to her, but just the slightest bit quietly content. I don't get to the point of wondering what that might have meant, I'm already too deep in dreamland.
And those dreams were weird and that's putting it mildly.
I was dancing next to my ex in that bar but it was as if I didn't even exist, no acknowledgement of my presence from those close around me whatsoever. Every two minutes Marty came over bringing me a new bottle of ice cold Heineken. A jungle of bottles soon accumulated around my restlessly moving feet and though it seemed like I stepped on them all the time, they neither fell nor broke, like they weren't solid, like projections or holograms. My ex made out with the new love beside me wildly, but it didn't fathom me the least. I just kept on dancing, swaying, grinding to the sensual beat of the song, very much unlike the way I dance in reality. Red sat on one of the huge speakers and looked at me like I had just lost my mind, the expression on his feline face almost human. Then the whole room changed its colour into an almost black and white scheme like in one of those old film noirs and the lighting got considerably darker, the music slower and almost dramatic. People's faces are bathed in and eerie glow and looking more like masks, expressions frozen in place, they wore makeup like the actors in the silent movie era did. The moves they made were all in slow motion now and a spotlight was shining down on me, making me the literal highlight of the whole room, the center and the only one left in colour.
All of a sudden slender arms encircled me from behind and a foreign body pressed itself into my back, its form definitely female and moving in complete synch with me, while warm hands caressed my stomach and hot lips descended onto my neck to knowingly kiss that small little patch of soft skin behind my ear that when caressed the right way usually made my whole body tingle in anticipation of things to come. And the kisser succeeded. I moaned low under my breath and the playful hands went up and with nimble precision knuckles ran around the undersides of my breasts and further up until both palms cupped my rounds and lightly stroke over rapidly hardening nipples. My breathing became shallow and my heart pounded strong and fast in my chest. I tried to turn my head to find out who assaulted me so pleasurably, but I couldn't turn my head. Suddenly I realised that I couldn't really move at all anymore and the feeling of being completely at a stranger's mercy restricted my chest and a wave of fear washed over me. But the second those strange fingers began flicking and pinching my nipples through both the fabric of my bra and shirt and a wet tongue ran across my neck, all anguish was replaced with a lust I hadn't felt in what seemed like years. Confused, yet way too turned on to worry about my sudden involuntary change of heart, I leaned into the touch that got more forceful by the minute. Teeth nipped at my pulse point and one hand descended and impatiently popped the first button of my pants open, slipping into the tight garment and the second one finger delved into the wetness that had built up between my legs I woke up with a start.
Panting and sweating profusely I sit up and grab the bottle of water from my nightstand, gulping the cool liquid down my dry throat greedily.
'It was just a dream,' I think over and over again, trying to calm my still rapidly beating heart.
I push myself up the bed and rest my back against the headrest, shaking my head in the darkness of my bedroom, frowning.
To be honest, I never, ever had a sex dream before. Very vivid daydreams, of course. Fantasies that I played out in my mind, you bet. But unconsciously in a dream? Never.
Two things really disturb me. The first is that I never got to see the person behind the touches. Do I miss being touched, being loved by another person so much? Was there no face because the body just personified a need I carry inside of me? Well, that seems like a reasonable explanation. I've always enjoyed sex and physical closeness, with the right partner that is, and getting deprived of a connection that had been exceptional due to the sudden break-up, I sure miss it all a lot.
The second is that I had so quickly accepted the fact that I wasn't able to move, not even if I had wanted to get away, reclaim my freedom in that dream, get away from what you could well categorize as sexual assault, that my fears and all those indicators that could have triggered very bad memories had been washed away and been solely replaced by a height of arousal I had even in real life rarely experienced. I had practically submitted, which was something highly unlikely for me to ever do. A tremor runs through my whole body at the memory and then again heat settles in some very distinct areas of my body when I realise that I had pretty much liked the feeling in my dream. Like my mind had clearly registered that after all, it really had been exactly that, just a dream, where everything is possible. Liked that feeling, well I shouldn't kid myself at this point, I'd adored it. After the initial fear that had attacked me, I had melted into that touch, those arms had made me feel safe and sound and I would've taken anything they would have offered me, would've gotten down on my knees or even worse if they had asked me to. Scary. Hot. Scary but oh, so hot.
I jump out of my bed and frantically pace the living room. I think whether I would have agreed to what I'd dreamt about if it had been a planned kind of role play in one of my relationships. And I guess I hadn't, too little control for my usual taste... Or maybe I had, my ex once had me blindfolded, it had taken me a lot to finally agree to that fantasy, but the outcome had been nothing but amazing for me. Being deprived of one sense really increases the sensibility of the remaining ones.
I force myself to stop thinking about it and just let it be what it was, a dream. For now at least. I heat some milk in the microwave and while using it, I break into a short giggle, remembering the sorry contents of Sofia's shopping cart. I change into a dry shirt, empty the mug and crawl back into my bed. I haven't by far slept long enough yet to get through a full shift or even more without starting to yawn every ten minutes if I don't rest for another three hours at last.
The rest of the night goes by without any more dreams or nightmares and as my alarm clock goes off, I feel more relaxed and ready for the day.
Author: TXLtoSFO
Fandom: CSI:LV
Pairing: Sara Sidle/Sofia Curtis
Rating: PG-13 overall I'd say
Disclaimer: CSI, its characters, places, and situations are property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis and CBS Productions. This story was written for entertainment, not monetary purposes. Original characters, and this story are intellectual property of the author. Any similarities to existing characters, fictional or real, living or dead, are coincidental and no harm is intended.
Spoiler/Warnings: None
Summary: Everything's not lost, though it seems that way after a major break-up. But life has a way of throwing heady stuff at you when you expect it the least. Maybe it's worth starting all over again?
Notes: A dream.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Whatever people say about falling in love
Chapter 4
As I fall asleep late at night, a strange image flashes through my mind just seconds before Morpheus claims me whole. The look on Sofia's face as I smiled back after she greeted me. Smug, which is nothing special or new when it comes to her, but just the slightest bit quietly content. I don't get to the point of wondering what that might have meant, I'm already too deep in dreamland.
And those dreams were weird and that's putting it mildly.
I was dancing next to my ex in that bar but it was as if I didn't even exist, no acknowledgement of my presence from those close around me whatsoever. Every two minutes Marty came over bringing me a new bottle of ice cold Heineken. A jungle of bottles soon accumulated around my restlessly moving feet and though it seemed like I stepped on them all the time, they neither fell nor broke, like they weren't solid, like projections or holograms. My ex made out with the new love beside me wildly, but it didn't fathom me the least. I just kept on dancing, swaying, grinding to the sensual beat of the song, very much unlike the way I dance in reality. Red sat on one of the huge speakers and looked at me like I had just lost my mind, the expression on his feline face almost human. Then the whole room changed its colour into an almost black and white scheme like in one of those old film noirs and the lighting got considerably darker, the music slower and almost dramatic. People's faces are bathed in and eerie glow and looking more like masks, expressions frozen in place, they wore makeup like the actors in the silent movie era did. The moves they made were all in slow motion now and a spotlight was shining down on me, making me the literal highlight of the whole room, the center and the only one left in colour.
All of a sudden slender arms encircled me from behind and a foreign body pressed itself into my back, its form definitely female and moving in complete synch with me, while warm hands caressed my stomach and hot lips descended onto my neck to knowingly kiss that small little patch of soft skin behind my ear that when caressed the right way usually made my whole body tingle in anticipation of things to come. And the kisser succeeded. I moaned low under my breath and the playful hands went up and with nimble precision knuckles ran around the undersides of my breasts and further up until both palms cupped my rounds and lightly stroke over rapidly hardening nipples. My breathing became shallow and my heart pounded strong and fast in my chest. I tried to turn my head to find out who assaulted me so pleasurably, but I couldn't turn my head. Suddenly I realised that I couldn't really move at all anymore and the feeling of being completely at a stranger's mercy restricted my chest and a wave of fear washed over me. But the second those strange fingers began flicking and pinching my nipples through both the fabric of my bra and shirt and a wet tongue ran across my neck, all anguish was replaced with a lust I hadn't felt in what seemed like years. Confused, yet way too turned on to worry about my sudden involuntary change of heart, I leaned into the touch that got more forceful by the minute. Teeth nipped at my pulse point and one hand descended and impatiently popped the first button of my pants open, slipping into the tight garment and the second one finger delved into the wetness that had built up between my legs I woke up with a start.
Panting and sweating profusely I sit up and grab the bottle of water from my nightstand, gulping the cool liquid down my dry throat greedily.
'It was just a dream,' I think over and over again, trying to calm my still rapidly beating heart.
I push myself up the bed and rest my back against the headrest, shaking my head in the darkness of my bedroom, frowning.
To be honest, I never, ever had a sex dream before. Very vivid daydreams, of course. Fantasies that I played out in my mind, you bet. But unconsciously in a dream? Never.
Two things really disturb me. The first is that I never got to see the person behind the touches. Do I miss being touched, being loved by another person so much? Was there no face because the body just personified a need I carry inside of me? Well, that seems like a reasonable explanation. I've always enjoyed sex and physical closeness, with the right partner that is, and getting deprived of a connection that had been exceptional due to the sudden break-up, I sure miss it all a lot.
The second is that I had so quickly accepted the fact that I wasn't able to move, not even if I had wanted to get away, reclaim my freedom in that dream, get away from what you could well categorize as sexual assault, that my fears and all those indicators that could have triggered very bad memories had been washed away and been solely replaced by a height of arousal I had even in real life rarely experienced. I had practically submitted, which was something highly unlikely for me to ever do. A tremor runs through my whole body at the memory and then again heat settles in some very distinct areas of my body when I realise that I had pretty much liked the feeling in my dream. Like my mind had clearly registered that after all, it really had been exactly that, just a dream, where everything is possible. Liked that feeling, well I shouldn't kid myself at this point, I'd adored it. After the initial fear that had attacked me, I had melted into that touch, those arms had made me feel safe and sound and I would've taken anything they would have offered me, would've gotten down on my knees or even worse if they had asked me to. Scary. Hot. Scary but oh, so hot.
I jump out of my bed and frantically pace the living room. I think whether I would have agreed to what I'd dreamt about if it had been a planned kind of role play in one of my relationships. And I guess I hadn't, too little control for my usual taste... Or maybe I had, my ex once had me blindfolded, it had taken me a lot to finally agree to that fantasy, but the outcome had been nothing but amazing for me. Being deprived of one sense really increases the sensibility of the remaining ones.
I force myself to stop thinking about it and just let it be what it was, a dream. For now at least. I heat some milk in the microwave and while using it, I break into a short giggle, remembering the sorry contents of Sofia's shopping cart. I change into a dry shirt, empty the mug and crawl back into my bed. I haven't by far slept long enough yet to get through a full shift or even more without starting to yawn every ten minutes if I don't rest for another three hours at last.
The rest of the night goes by without any more dreams or nightmares and as my alarm clock goes off, I feel more relaxed and ready for the day.