Title: The Dark Room
By: Alison
Pairing: Cath/Sara
Rated: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Dear Mr Bruckheimer, please can Cath and Sara come out and play for a while. I promise to return them as I found them.
Word count: 602
AN: This has been sitting on my hard drive for ages, thought I had better give it an airing. There is graphic sex in this, so if you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it.

***

She comes in while I am finishing off some prints. I can tell it's her by the sound of her sure stride. I have listened for it often enough.

"Hey" I say.

I get no answer, and as I start to turn I am aware of her right behind me; almost touching me but not quite.

Then she is pressing into me, firmly. Her breasts push against my back, and I feel her hips rocking forward slightly. She has caught me by surprise. I don't know anything about her really - she is as much an enigma to me now as when I first met her.

Her left arm snakes around me and hits the safe light switch, turning on the 'no entry' sign outside. We are bathed in the glow of the red bulb above us.

I can smell shampoo, smoke, mint. She has not moved back, and the heat and proximity of her body causes me to react like it always does. She knows what she does to me. I hate her for it, but mostly I hate myself for being so weak. I would die for her, kill for her and she would let me.

She fondles my breast through my top, roughly. My arousal is sudden and violent. My nipples harden and my clit aches for her touch.

Lust is stabbing through me with a million needles, in my heart, my brain, the pit of my stomach. I feel sick and dizzy.

"Cath, I.....we..." I want to tell her to stop, but we both know that won't happen. I have never resisted her. I can't. I say nothing, as there is nothing to say.

Catherine's strong fingers work at the fly of my jeans, the leather ones she bought me. I want to speak, try and free myself from this situation. My mouth is dry but I can feel my wetness elsewhere.

As she tugs the soft leather down and over my boots I hear her breath catch in her throat. It is the only break in her composure. I am not wearing any underwear. Her hand slips under the hem of my vest and up my back. Her fingers brand my skin where they touch. It surprises me later that there are not welts on my body.

I need her touch so badly. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. Her hand on my back pushes me over the bench so my face is on the cool surface.

Her hands insinuate themselves between my thighs and push them apart. I can feel the cool air on my opening. She reaches round and starts to gently rub, so gently it is torture. I grind myself onto her hand, ashamed at my need.

My orgasm is approaching but I need more. Fingers are inside me, twisting , insistent. I am so close to climax my legs are trembling with the effort of staying upright.

I feel her shift behind me. She takes those dextrous fingers away. My mind is screaming out for her to carry on touching me - I can feel my orgasm slipping from me. Surely even she would not leave me like this?

Then, hands on my butt cheeks, spreading them. Her tongue flicks at my anus once then again, and I tip over the edge. I come hard, it rips through me and tears me apart. I think I call her name, not caring who hears.

I slump across the bench, shivering, cold now. I don't know how long for. Minutes, maybe hours.

I slowly push myself up. She is gone. I realise she never spoke a word.

***