Title: Slumber Party
Author: Shatterpath
Email: shatterpath@shatterstorm.net
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Catherine/Sara/Sofia
Date in Calendar: 13 June 2006
Summary: A "girls' night out" to decompress leads three former rivals into a far deeper understanding of each other.
Website: http://www.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions ONLY...all others must ask first.

Disclaimer: "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," CBS, or any representatives of Marg Helgenberger, Jorja Fox, or Louise Lombard.

++ Warrick Brown ++

Humming softly to myself, I pull into the parking lot at Sara’s place and grab the woman’s leather jacket off the passenger seat before heading into the building. When she’d called into the lab, drunk and half-frantic over the missing article of clothing, I’d gallantly offered to drop it by. Her place was only a mile or so out of my way, so it was no big deal.

At her door, I rap smartly, knowing that she’s been drinking and would most likely be sleeping it off. No response for a moment, so I try again, putting my knuckles to the wood a little harder this time. There’s a mutter of sound, something crashes to the floor and the voice barks a incoherent curse. Damn, I didn’t realize how deep that girl’s voice got when she was drunk and pissed off.

The deadbolt rattles and the door is yanked open with a irritated, “what?”

For a moment, I can only blink in shock, and the inane thought of, “oh, that’s why her voice sounded too deep,” ricochets around my brain. Sofia Curtis looks nearly as surprised, eyes round, carafe of coffee and three mugs wrapped up in those long fingers.

Weren’t those Sara’s leather pants? And that goldenrod fabric, obviously a couple sizes too small, gaping over her bare chest (almost R-rated), I’d bet my left nut was the same one Catherine had been wearing at work.

Well then…

Sucking in a deep breath, Sofia gives me a near-glace at her erect nipples, her entire torso beginning to flush rosy from the navel up. This is actually kinda funny, to be completely honest, and a grin slowly spreads over my face. “Sara asked me to drop this off on my way home.” For a moment, Sofia doesn’t react, still staring at me, before jerking her eyes to the leather coat.

A distinctly feminine giggle floats out from the depths of the dim apartment. Once again, it’s not Sara’s voice, but I’d know that sleepy chuckle anywhere. Catherine always gets that tone when she is finally pushed to exhaustion. Bet my eyebrows are as high on my forehead as Sofia’s now.

++ Sofia Curtis ++

Oh fuck me running…

Like my life hadn’t gotten strange enough in the last six hours or so. Frozen in shock and indecision, I can only watch Warrick’s expression, with a quick side trip to the handful of leather in his hands I’m fairly certain is Sara’s coat. Catherine’s sleepy giggle and Sara’s indignant mutter makes my skin hotter with embarrassment, carnal memories and something that might be terror.

“Slumber party,” the man says sagely, something evil and playful in his growing smile. “Got it.” The jacket is thrust at me, making me recoil, but snapping my paralysis. Releasing the door, I grab the cool material. “Remind Catherine to call Lindsey, so she doesn’t worry. And the lock the door behind me.”

The front door clicks shut on his chuckle, and I slap the deadbolt like it’s going to bite me.

“Have fun!”

Smarting from my idiocy and his parting shot carrying through the wooden barrier, I retreat to the root of the chaos. It’s a sexy tableau, no one would argue, but it’s incongruous with the reality I’ve lived until last night. Sara’s on her stomach, sheet tossed over her hips, Catherine curled along her back, stroking the dark hair, their moving fingers intertwined.

“Hey stud,” the smaller blonde grins. “Did I hear voices? What was that? Room service?”

Sara snorts with amusement as I set down the mugs and carafe of coffee I’ve been clinging to hard enough to make my fingers hurt. They squeal in mutual shock as I toss the cool leather over their naked torsos, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to muster my best ‘detective face’. The one I’ve been learning from Brass. “Warrick just dropped that off.” It takes a moment for that to sink in, and I’m hugely entertained by watching their brains catch up to the situation on the whole. “He suggested that you call Lindsey, and told me to have fun.”

Peeling off the too-tight shirt, I’m actually surprised that it’s Sara that starts twittering first. A strangled, almost squeaky sound of stifled amusement that a little girl might make in hopes that the teacher won’t catch her goofing off. It’s such a funny sound, that I can’t help but grin wolfishly and shake the bed when I drop onto my knees. “Your living room is laid out just like mine, and I didn’t even think before opening it up,” I explain, sounding stressed and freaked out even to my own ears. “What kind of stupid cop does that make me?”

“A tired, and well-fucked one,” Sara giggles breathlessly, tears in her dark eyes, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Slumber party,” I do my best to imitate Warrick, including the raised eyebrow, and Sara actually shrieks with laughter, curling up around her rib cage. “Got it.” Catherine’s eyes narrow in mute question and I shrug. “Not making it up, that’s what he said. I’m just glad it wasn’t Sanders.”

That finally cracks up Catherine, who reaches out to grab the waistband of the leather pants I’m seriously considering stealing, and drags me down atop the pile of bodies.

++ Catherine Willows ++

Being torn apart and put back together again had been a sobering experience. Well-oiled and successful teams, unraveled by that damn Ecklie and put into configurations that didn’t work, only to be knit back together over the terror of nearly losing one of our own to a madman. Sofia retreated to the forefront of police work, and I and the boys happily returned to graveyard and our estranged work family.

Truth be told, I hated being a supervisor. Truly hated it. There’s no camaraderie, the amount of real work I did was minimized by paperwork and political maneuvering is far more exhausting than any crime scene. One shouldn’t have to wax nostalgic for blood, guts and perversity. With Sara and Nick and Warrick and Gil and Greg around me, I feel whole again.

Looking back, I can blearily trace the progression of events that led the three of us to this bed. Sara was wrung out from yet another bizarre and stressful case, and, missing the woman, I’d dragged her out for a drink and some decompression. On the way out, we’d spotted Sofia not looking much better and I’d found myself finally feeling bad for what happened to her. Sent to spy on graveyard by the boss, she’d instantly been a pariah, and none of us helped any. So, I found myself roping her in as well, informing her that we were taking her to have some fun, grabbing her by the front of her waistband of her slacks because her hands were full. Reluctant and awkward, Sofia and Sara dangled from my hands, dragged to a noisy club of heart-attack lighting, base-rumble thunder, flowing alcohol and a crowd mixed enough to ignore us.

One by one, they let me ply them with spirits and drag them to the dance floor, letting our relaxing bodies talk instead of our brains. In time, I had Sara in my arms, Sofia’s slender body pressed to my back and ass, hormones and booze talking down propriety and fear. To my astonishment, it was the tall blonde’s mouth that started the next round of body negotiations, snuffling and nuzzling at my throat and shoulder, while our combined bodies ground together like we were already in a bed.

I was treated to the glorious, illicit thrill of watching Sara and Sofia’s first kiss, tentative, terrified, but unable to resist where the night would lead. Back in the present now, I watch them reenact that get-to-know-you kiss, Sara moaning softly as she runs her hands over the naked torso hanging above her.

There hasn’t been many words between us, even during the drive that led back here, while I kept Sofia in the mood by slithering against her side, tongue in her ear, fingers tickling at the seam in her corduroy slacks. How the hell we made it safely is totally beyond me. Familiar with her body now, I leave Sara to occupy mouth and chest, while I tug open the stubborn fly on the leather pants, the stiff zipper. “Didn’t I have this same damn problem with you, Sara?” I complain, not even realizing that I’ve spoken out loud until they both chuckle and look at me. The dark blue sheets give Sofia’s mercurial eyes a deep, vibrant sky color, and Sara’s look as deep and dark as I’ve ever seen them.

The blue pair slide closed, accompaniment to a hiss, as I slide my hand beneath the body-warm leather, comb through matted curls and reawakened wet. Sara mumbles something, nuzzles Sofia’s ear while I ply another erogenous zone.

“Sorry to ‘barass you,” Sara slurs softly, between the wet suckling at what I assume is Sofia’s ear, making the tall woman moan, hunching her hips against my hand. “Forgot I’d called work. You two ‘r distracting and all.”

“Fuck,” Sofia hisses, making the rest of us laugh, and “He’s gonna torment me at work.” Huffing and crying out, my twiddling on her clit and Sara’s slobbering in her ear setting off that lovely chain reaction. “Hot damn, you two.”

Collapsing to the other side of Sara, Sofia lays panting from the quickie, while Sara rolls over to smother me with her longer body, kissing me, tasting of Sofia’s sweat. My still-wet fingers are caught, sucked on, Sofia breathing hard, as Sara kisses her way down my body, suckling hard at my sensitive breasts, more sensitive than usual from all the fooling around we’ve been doing.

This is a much better way to wind down from a rough case. I’ll have to propose to make this a regular workout…

++ Sara Sidle ++

Whatever bizarre cosmic traffic accident has led to this, needs to be tracked and monitored, because this kind of random sex magic could redefine the world. Even as I get lost in Catherine’s taste and feel, Sofia’s hands wander down my spine, tickling that sensitive groove of spine that makes me squirm back towards that teasing touch, even as I stay glued to Catherine’s skin.

It’s overwhelming really, the myriad of sounds and sensations three bodies can make, instead of just two. My first fear of three has been hurdled; would we be too weird with each other after sleeping it off? There’s no hesitation in Sofia’s devious, slender hands, and the suckling, licking mouth, or the way Catherine arches into both of us teasing her, groaning and whispering encouragement, tugging at my hair, her thigh raised up to give me something to ground myself on.

Normally, I’m too tense, too worried, too cerebral to really let go and allow carnal pleasure to just drown me, grunting and crying out. Not so with these two. For some reason, they have given me a safe place to let go.

Sofia curls against my back, grabbing my twitching hips roughly, wet mouth almost hurtful on my neck. “Stop thinking so much,” she growls against my skin, the vibrations and tone making me whine needily. “We talked about that last night.”

“Talking?” Catherine laughs, squirming against my front, and I’m the best kind of trapped. “Is that what we were doing?”

Nibbling and sucking, they are unmerciful, keeping up the teasing conversation that I can barely track. “Well, there’s so many ways to carry on a conversation.”

“So true, detective. Show me that frisking technique again, won’t you?”

“My pleasure.”

It’s maddening, all these hands, my nerves too confused to settle, theirs caressing and pressing my hypersensitive flesh, mouths on my skin. They remember how they cracked my self-control, making me shout hoarsely, and do it again, leaving me no choice but to alert my neighbors to my activities once more. Both sucking hard at my nipples, their hands aren’t still, and I’m desperate.

“Please, please, please…”

“Hmmm, Sof dear, I think we’ve created a monster.”

This time, Sofia only chuckles darkly, and the slide of slender fingers into the wet, empty ache inside makes me howl and carry on like a madwoman. Dizzy, swamping pleasure, surrounded by their combined warmth, it’s all I can do to hang on to the shreds of sanity, so that I can find my way home again.

It’s shocking, really, how well they know me in such a short period of time. Both stroke me softly, warmly, with care in their fingers and palms and warm, curvy flesh, until I blink blearily at them, smile in weary thanks at their loving. A matched set of quick kisses deepen the grin. “You good?” Sofia asks kindly, making my throat ache with emotion, and I nod. Catherine nuzzles my cheek and jaw, making that soft near-hum that signals that she’s anxious.

It’s a different pleasure, just watching, and I revel in my better-than-front-row seat to these hot women making love in my thrashed bed. At least the indulgence of the great big thing was paying off in completely unexpected ways…

++ Warrick ++

Damn, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her. If I didn’t though, someone else would, and they probably wouldn’t be kind about it. Thankfully, there’s only photos spread over the big light table, and nothing that her DNA could contaminate.

A sharp rap on the glass makes Sara’s head jerk up, hard enough to make her wince, and she looks around wildly for a moment. Bewildered, her gaze falls to the table, to me and back again. “Oh god…”

“Guess that was some slumber party, huh?” I tease softly, and her flush effectively covers up the pressure lines in her cheek. “Thought I better get you up before Sanders or worse, Hodges, finds you.”

“Thanks,” she says hoarsely. “Good thing I didn’t drool on these, huh?”

The attempt at humor is weak, but I chuckle at the effort, and her weary smile. “Must be somethin’ goin’ around. Cath didn’t look much better.” The not-too-subtle-for-her-half-asleep-brain dig, gets those striking dark eyes to dilate, and I smile tenderly this time. “No more of those wild college parties for you, huh?”

Dammit, I don’t want Sara to look like this, all tweaked. So I just keep smiling softly until she unwinds, realizing that she’s safe with me.

“Sorry I didn’t set up the video camera,” Sara grins wryly, and I laugh out loud at the unexpected joke.

“Hella nice way to unwind from work.”

“I’ll say.”

“I suppose it’s my turn for teasing,” comes a completely unexpected voice, and we both look to the door to see Sofia standing there, looking every inch as exhausted as Sara. “Dropped by with a present,” a sharp look at me quickly softens with resignation and returns to Sara. “And a thank you for last night.”

Shockingly, Sara smiles, even if it’s an embarrassed one. “My pleasure.” I cough even as Sofia steps in, offering a small paper bag, shooting me a wryly exasperated look. When Sara peeks in, she shocks me again by squealing, “how did you know?”

“Glanced in your trash. Looks like some of these police skills came in handy.”

Humming happily, Sara yanks out a lime Coke and a package of caramel Ho-Hos that makes me laugh, “junk food junkie.”

Sara only smiles blissfully at her snack, and I can tell that Sofia is pleased.

++ Sofia ++

They are peace offerings of sorts. Having never done something so wild in my life, I have no damn clue how to treat this particular ‘morning after’. Thankfully, Jim had been willing enough to pass on what little knowledge he had of Catherine’s food tastes. Actually, he had been far more helpful than he realized. So, Sara got the junk food that will perk her up with refined sugar for the rest of her shift, and I have something similar for Catherine… if I can find the woman.

Eventually, I hear her voice trailing out from the garage, echoed by Nick’s laugh. After a quick, mental review of what I should say, I step in where they are dismantling an SUV I can barely identify.

“Alas, dear Subaru, I knew him well,” I quip, earning startled grins from both. “Sorry Nick, I didn’t know you were down here, or I’d have brought you one too,” I lie easily and hold up a silver thermos and a white paper bag. Too curious to resist, Catherine comes over, wiping her hands on a rag.

“Room service?” She smiles coyly, and I nearly choke. Damn, stupid, easily flushed skin of mine… “You’re too sweet. I’ll have to drag you out to decompress more often.”

Well, she’s one-up-man-shipped me again, but I find that I don’t mind. “Any time.”

A sunny grin lights up Catherine’s tired face at the goodies, and she pulls out a gourmet croissant bigger than her hand and drizzled in sticky chocolate. “Oh, you’re good,” she purrs and I flush darker, stepping back halfway around the corner to avoid Nick’s curious gaze. Following me to the false illusion of privacy, Catherine rips off a healthy chunk of the buttery, chocolaty treat with her teeth, and I’m perversely reminded of being jumped last night. “You’re blushing,” Catherine deadpans, grinning evilly, tearing off a piece of the treat to dangle it at me like bait. Without being asked, my mouth opens, and the taste of pastry and car grime floods my senses, spiced with the faintest trace of her taste. That last one, I’ll never forget.

Stroking my bottom lip for an instant between people moving through the corridors, Catherine grins a wild, predatory grin before spinning away to sashay across the garage. “Thank Sofia,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’ll remember this.”

I take the opportunity to slink away.

My shift is fairly peaceful, and I’m lucky to spend the bulk of it at my desk, pouring my burning eyes over the inevitable paperwork. As the new kid in the force, I get the bulk of the shit-jobs, but I knew the score before I accepted the badge, and remain mostly uncomplaining.

“You look like crap,” Jim finally notes, lounging in my doorway, with coffee and curiosity as enticement. Shrugging, I settle for a version of the truth.

“Catherine and Sara dragged me out for some recreation last night, and I’m exhausted.” There’s an echo of my smile on his careworn face. “Not as young as I used to be.”

“Yeah, I can get with that,” Jim chuckles. “Go home and get some sleep. It’s quiet and you’re nearly off shift anyway. See you Wednesday.”

“Thanks Jim,” I tell him sincerely, and pat his arm as I walk out.

++ Catherine ++

“You look exhausted,” Gil comments and I’m too tired to do more than raise my head from my near-doze. Mostly asleep at the shift supervisor’s desk, feet up on the spare chair, probably isn’t the best way to make a good impression. Good thing it’s Gil.

“Girl’s night out,” I groan around getting my weary body situated into something resembling alertness.

“So I hear.” Okay, that wasn’t a comment I was expecting for the often humorless Gil and my eyes narrow at him. “Please, Catherine, you drag Sara and Sofia out of here like an angry pimp, the latter by the front of her pants, and you don’t expect the rumor mill to start rumbling?”

Well, since he phrased it that way…

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Chuckling, Gil grins at me. “Rumbling the rumor mill? Yes.” That only earns a glare that makes him chortle again. “Getting them to relax? That was successful as well, if they look as tired as you do.” We share a grin like the old friends we are. “Go home, and see that you get Sara to do the same. See you Tuesday.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” I hum in weary agreement, and head out. Sara is in the break room, sprawled back on one of the couches with her feet up on the low table. “You used to have better stamina than this, Sidle.”

One dark eye cracks open to regard me, a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. “No thanks to you.”

That makes me laugh, smacking her shoe. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

Grumbling in mock annoyance, Sara collects herself and then her things, following me into the blinding sunshine.

“We should go check on Sofia,” she says unexpectedly, stretching luxuriously in the glare. Caught up for a moment at the sinuous display, I shake it off and nod. “Yeah, that works. However, I really need to get away from you two this afternoon and go get my kid.”

“I think we manage that,” Sara says with sass and saunters over to my car, waiting there with an eyebrow raised beneath her sunglasses.

“Yep, definitely created a monster,” I needle fondly and get us going. Sara mentions food, and I swing into a favorite Asian food restaurant for sushi and some substantial noodle dishes. Both of us are ready to drop off after the stop and fighting morning traffic.

“How did you know where she lived?” Sara asks as she exits the car to stretch once more in the sunlight.

“You gotta stop showing off like that,” I tease, truly loving watching her so unselfconscious and sensual. Retrieving the bags of food and drink, Sara looks at the building with a grin.

“Her living room and kitchen might look like mine, but this building sure doesn’t.”

++ Sara ++

Where my apartment looks like a refurbed old hotel, this place is ultra-slick modern. As we walk into the lobby, Catherine picks up the thread of conversation. “I swiped the address from Greg’s computer.”

“That’s mercenary,” I compliment, eyebrow arched, impressed with her once again. The entry device rings several times after Catherine pokes at it, before a familiar, but distorted voice speaks groggily.

“Hullo?”

“We come bearing gifts,” she says and I chuckle for emphasis.

“Don’t you two ever sleep?”

The door beside us buzzes sharply and we walk in, too tired to chat as we hit the elevator and go to Sofia’s door. Before either of us can knock, the door is yanked open to reveal a scantily clad and mostly-asleep Sofia.

Hot damn, but she looked delicious standing there! Before she can do more than scowl, I jump on the opportunity, slipping into her personal space to wrap her up in a hug and kiss her soundly. Apart from her, I’d forgotten the sweet sin of her mouth, the way she feels in my arms. Humming with pleasure, I drink from her mouth until Sofia pulls away to take a deep breath and stare at me wide-eyed.

“Wow,” she whispers, that strange, faint accent thicker and heavier than I’ve ever heard it. One more time, we kiss and I have to wonder why this feels so different now. “Glad to see you,” murmurs against my mouth, making me smile.

Chuckling, Catherine gives us a shove, pressing me even closer, and heads for the couch. “Hungry? We thought we’d bring you food, since it looks like you’re hosting the slumber party this round.”

“Okay,” Sofia smiles faintly, and I’m enraptured by her smile, this close up. Shy suddenly and unaccountably, I grab her hand and drag her over to eat. We don’t talk much as we eat, aside from giggling over Warrick, and I find myself still powerfully drawn to Sofia, feeling rumbles of climax when she suckles orange sauce from my fingers.

Once the food has been gorged, the exhaustion swamps over all of us, Catherine waving us away, her pale coloring flickering in the glow of the TV. “I gotta get Lindsey in a few hours, so I’m gonna nap here. I’ll come poke you awake, Sofia, to lock the door behind me.”

Both of us hum wearily in agreement, and I’m pleased when Sofia drags me to my feet by my hand, tossing that same arm over her shoulders. We giggle through getting me out of my clothes, trading kisses, both feeling shy.

Honestly, it doesn’t make any sense. After yesterday, we should be as fearless as Cat. Instead, still clad in underwear and Sofia in that funny tank top, we climb atop cool sheets and fall into each other as though drawn like gravity. Curled up half on and half beside her strong body, I drape an arm and leg over her, snuggling up under her chin. One hands rests on my elbow, the other is heavy and comforting on my skull.

“Glad I’m here,” I whisper as dizzy darkness encroaches.

“Me too.”

To Be Continued… in Part 2