What is this feeling?
Fervid as a flame,
Does it have a name?
Sara stopped in the doorway of the break room and sighed heavily upon seeing who was sitting inside. She'd done a week in Las Vegas now. Just one week and already she couldn't bear to be in the same room as Catherine flaming Willows.
Catherine hadn't done anything exactly. They hadn't had a run in. They'd managed to work together on cases and be perfectly civil. But on Sara's part it was completely and utterly forced. And she imagined the same to be true of the older woman. And that made her hate her even more. The audacity!
For your face
This complete and utter dislike had come about quite quickly, taken an instant hold on Sara's senses and was steadfast refusing to let go. And, given the reason for its presence, Sara wasn't really inclined to try to fight it.
She eventually decided that she did need to go into the break room. She'd just have to grin and bear it until the others arrived.
She strolled in, observing Catherine as she did so.
Her nemesis glanced up from the magazine she was reading and smiled, her perfectly made up lips curving ever so slightly at each corner. Lines crinkled her face, but they didn't make her look old, instead they made her look sickeningly attractive, only adding to the beauty sparkling in her eyes.
"Hi," Catherine greeted her, her voice a smooth melodic sound, falling like gentle snow upon Sara's ear drums.
Sara forced a smile back and as Catherine returned her attention to her magazine, she dropped her eyes to take in her colleagues outfit.
She wore fitted black trousers, hugging her perfectly toned stomach, hips and ass tightly, but not so tight as to be slutty. Her deep red shirt nicely framed her breasts and narrow waist, and was unbuttoned only far enough down to be respectable. A small black jacket completed the look.
Sara rolled her eyes and dropped into a seat across the table.
Let's just say - I loathe it all
Every little trait, however small
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl
With simple utter loathing
Catherine turned the page of her magazine, her perfect nails gloating at Sara over the top of the glossy booklet. Sara glared, wondering how Catherine managed to keep her nails so perfectly groomed while working all night with dead bodies and other gruesome evidence.
A small cough came from Catherine's direction – sounding more like a gentle squeak from a cute little mouse, and Sara's glare intensified. The woman even exuded beauty and grace when clearing her throat!
The magazine flapped shut and Catherine's gaze went past Sara towards the door.
"Hi," that irritating voice repeated again.
Sara's head whipped round upon recognising the responding voice.
Grissom was standing just inside the doorway smiling at Catherine. Sara turned back to her enemy and narrowed her eyes once more, before wiping her face clear of hatred and greeting Grissom herself.
He didn't respond straightaway, so she had to repeat herself.
"Oh, Sara, didn't see you there."
There's a strange exhilaration
In such total detestation
It's so pure and strong!
Sara felt her body pulse with ire, her breathing deepening, face reddening with fury as Grissom sat down directly beside Catherine and the two of them began to converse quietly.
Anger coursed through her veins, heart pounding, pumping away to spread the sensation, to let her entire body know it was to dedicate itself to loathing the woman opposite.
It was Catherine's fault Grissom hadn't noticed her.
Catherine. Who drew Grissom's attention whenever she walked into a room. Who would call in the middle of their conversations and instantly have Grissom completely lost to her words.
Catherine. Who quite clearly was the reason she had never been able to capture Grissom's heart when he was in San Francisco.
Though I do admit it came on fast
Still I do believe that it can last
For about the hundredth time in the one week Sara had been here, Grissom laughed at Catherine's whispered words, his head falling back, his eyes lighting up.
Sara's chair scraped across the floor and the brunette disappeared out of the break room.
Catherine turned towards the doorway as Grissom asked, "What was all that about?"
A small smile crept over her lips, morphing into a satisfied smirk.
And I will be loathing
My whole life long!
Catherine shrugged. "Who knows?"