DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Getting Lucky Twice in One Day
By Ann

 

"You're sure? There's no mistake?" Catherine whispered to Mandy, glancing over her shoulder to be certain that she hadn't been overheard.

"I checked twice. The prints found in the bedroom are a match." Leaning forward, giving the look of a conspiratory meeting, Mandy mimicked the investigator, her eyes darting left and right before she continued in a low voice. "Catherine, they were all over the bedposts."

Catherine's eyes went wide at the implication. The victim's bedroom could only be described as a virtual playhouse of sexual games. The hidden closet she'd found contained everything from silk scarves to handcuffs, not to mention the various whips and sex toys.

A voice from the doorway caused the two women to lift their heads in surprise, the action forcing a collision of foreheads. Sara chuckled as two hands automatically reached up to rub the points of impact.

"Shit, Sara. Why don't you knock before you enter a room?" Catherine complained, shifting her up and down rubbing motion to small circular movements.

"Sorry. I just wanted to know if Mandy got any hits on the prints we took from the bedroom of the victim."

"No!" Sara frowned at the stereo response, and Mandy attempted to cover their tracks.

"Um, I mean, I'm still working on them. I'll page you the minute I've found something."

Sara checked her watch and smiled as she noted the official end to her shift. "Okay, I need to discuss another case with Sofia. I'll be back in about an hour or so."

The two women pasted fake smiles on their faces and bid Sara a weak goodbye. The investigator paused at the door and turned back to look at Catherine and Mandy who never changed expression; the pair still stood side by side wearing their goofy grins. Shaking her head, Sara headed down the hallway.

Mandy was the first to break out of their mime routine. "Now what?"

"You keep a lid on this until I can talk to Gil and Brass. We certainly don't need Greg or Nick to get hold of this information. Just put the results at the bottom of your stack for now." Catherine started for the door, and Mandy slid the printout under the mound of paperwork she had on her desk.

Miles away, Sara sprinted up the stairs and pulled an apartment key from her pocket. As she moved to place the key in the lock, she was thrown off balance when the door suddenly flew open and a hand reached out and grabbed her by the front of the shirt, pulling her inside. Her yelp of surprise was quickly cut off by a separate attack as a pair of lips latched onto hers. A silky tongue speared into her mouth while a strong hand worked the button of her jeans.

Recovering from her surprise, Sara reached for her attacker's shirt, making quick work of the few fastened buttons. The other woman somehow managed to undo Sara's zipper while assisting the investigator in the removal of her own shirt. Not deterred in the least by the hands cupping her bra-clad breasts, the brunette's lover worked her hand inside the tight jeans, worming her way to Sara's wet, slick labia.

Sara slid her hands under her lover's bra and pinched the already hard nipples, just as two fingers slid deep inside her. In an almost synchronized response, the investigator sucked on the other woman's tongue as she began to move her hips up and down, riding the fingers coated with her arousal. When a third finger made its way inside her tight opening, Sara widened her stance and moaned into her lover's mouth. A few minutes later, she cried out her release and clung tightly to the other woman.

"Shit, Sofia. You're going to be the death of me one of these days."

Sofia smiled smugly. "But what a way to go, huh?"

Sara laughed and grabbed her lover's hand, pulling the detective back to the bedroom. It was Sofia's turn to die the little death.

Standing outside Grissom's office, Catherine paused, wondering how she should present the information to her superior. The sound of a second voice caught her attention, and she quickly identified it as Brass. Releasing a deep breath, she knocked on the door and stepped into the office. At least, she'd get to kill two birds with one stone.

"Catherine? How's your case going?" Brass motioned for the redhead to take his chair.

"Funny you should ask, Jim. It seems we have a bit of a problem."

"We?" Grissom asked, glancing from Catherine to Brass.

Catherine plopped down in the chair and looked across at her supervisor. "Some of the fingerprints came back to one of our own."

Grissom frowned. "Did someone not wear their gloves?"

"No, Gil. The fingerprints were there before we arrived on the scene."

Brass moved around and perched on the edge of Grissom's desk. "Oh, really. Sub or domme?"

"Jim, I don't think that's relevant to the case." The supervisor voiced his disapproval.

Shrugging, Brass raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know about that. Maybe he's got a history of violence." Winking at Grissom, he added, "You know it's always the quiet ones who surprise you."

Before Grissom could respond to the implication, Catherine blurted, "She."

Two heads turned towards the investigator. "She?"

Catherine nodded. "Yep, she."

Across town, Sara writhed and moaned, her hands and feet struggling to free themselves from the bedposts as Sofia teased her unmercifully. The brunette stubbornly refused to ask for release, and the blonde smirked and took a swollen nipple into her mouth, biting hard as she continued to slowly work her fingers in and out of her lover.

The pace so agonizingly slow, Sara feverishly attempted to undulate her hips to increase the tempo, but the scarves tied around her ankles limited her movement. Tears began to run down Sara's cheeks, her need to be released so great, and she finally relented, saying the words Sofia had been waiting to hear.

"Fuck me, Sofia. Please, fuck me, baby."

Smiling, Sofia released the red nipple and crawled fully on top of her lover. Kissing Sara gently, she reached down and placed the tip of the dildo at her lover's entrance. Tightening the leather straps, she slowly began to work the large dildo inside Sara's drenched opening, jogging her hips with an experienced ease and increasing her thrusts as Sara cried out for more.

In the corridor of the lab, a tray clattered on the floor, and Brass quickly moved to shut Grissom's door, ensuring their privacy.

"Okay, Catherine. Where were the fingerprints?"

Catherine looked her supervisor in the eye. "On the bedposts."

Grissom sighed. "Well, that can easily be explained as an accident."

"All of them, Gil. Her fingerprints were on all four bedposts."

"Whose fingerprints, Catherine?" Grissom asked just as Greg bounded into the room so excited he didn't bother knocking.

"Oops, sorry Grissom. I just thought Catherine would want to know that Doc Robbins found semen in the victim, and Wendy matched it to a known felon. Nick had him picked up, and he's confessed. It seems their role playing got out of hand."

Grinning widely, Greg excused himself and closed the door.

"So, Catherine?" Brass asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Sorry, Brass. It's no longer relevant." Catherine smiled and walked out the door just as Sofia ground her hips a final time, eliciting a hoarse scream from Sara.

The detective pulled back and eased the soaked dildo out of her lover. Removing the straps, she tossed the apparatus on the floor and leaned down to kiss a very sated Sara.

Releasing the brunette's lips, Sofia moved to the bedposts and gently untied her lover's wrists and ankles. "I really like my new bed. The posts are much sturdier that my other one."

Catching her breath, Sara exhaled loudly. "It certainly held up well on its trial run. I'd say we gave it a proper christening, wouldn't you?"

Sofia smiled smugly. "Oh yeah. Although, not having sex for a week kind of added to the experience. I don't think you've ever come that hard."

"Well, give me a minute or two, and I'll glady return the favor."

The two women lay in each other's arms, their legs entwined, and both coated with a fine layer of sweat. Sara closed her eyes and sighed.

"Hey, Sofia? What did you do with your other bed?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I put an ad in the paper, and some lady called the next day. She said she was in dire need of a poster bed. Within an hour, she sent a couple of guys over with a check, and the two loaded it up and drove away just as the furniture store called to deliver. Pretty good timing, huh?"

"I can't believe you took a check."

"It cleared just fine; I deposited it the same day. She sure had a strange name though."

Sara flipped Sofia on her back and stroked up and down her lover's side. "What was it?"

"Heather Vandersex. I thought she was joking until I read it on her check."

Sara's hand froze in its motion, her eyes widening at the name. At the same moment, her cell vibrated on the nearby nightstand, and the investigator just stared at the moving phone.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

Reaching out with a shaky hand, Sara flipped the phone open. "Sidle."

"Hey, Sara. It's Catherine. You don't need to bother coming back in. Nick got the guy."

"Thank, God," Sara muttered. "I really appreciate you calling, Catherine."

"No problem, Sara. But, you owe me big time." Catherine laughed and ended the call, leaving Sara staring at the phone. Now, she knew why Catherine and Mandy had acted so strangely when she'd asked about the results.

Sofia snatched the cell from her lover and threw it over her shoulder. Reaching up, she pulled Sara on top of her.

"I thought it was my turn to get lucky." Sofia pouted, sticking out her lower lip.

Sara slid her hand between silky thighs. "Oh, trust me, baby. You've already gotten lucky today, but we'll talk about that later."

Smiling, Sara bit and sucked her way down her lover's body, eyeing the silk scarves on her slow descent. It was finally time to fulfill Sofia's wishes to dominate her.

Yes, Sofia was definitely going to get lucky. In fact, she was about to hit the jackpot, and, this time, it would be Sara's fingerprints all over the bedposts.

The End

Return to C.S.I. Fiction

Return to Main Page