Title: Wrong Turns, Flat Tires, and Orgasms, Oh My!
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: NC17
Pairings: Sara/Sofia
Date: 15-16 March 2008
Word Count: 2230
Written for: smut_69 table of prompts
Prompt: #8, leather
Summary: Who knew breaking down in the desert could be this much fun?
Warnings: Girl + girl = smut. Don't like? Fuck off.
Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://f-n-c.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only...all others ask for permission & we'll see...

Author's 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 Jorja Fox or Louise Lombard.

Author's Notes: I haven't written these muses in a while now...and ralst gave me the prompt of "wrong turns". And that was all it took. This was primarily written during work over the past 2 days, which was amusing in and of itself. *heh*

And the title? Direct reference to The Wizard of Oz, because I'm still on a Wicked kick...

Beta: shatterpath, of course

Dedication: My muses, because they never really let me down...they just like to fucking yank my chain on a semi-regular basis...

---

"Wrong Turns, Flat Tires, and Orgasms, Oh My!"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter


"Sofia?"

The soft sleepy tone of her voice makes me smile, despite our very real situation.

"Right here," I reply just as softly, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "Good nap?"

She scowls at me, but leans into my touch regardless. Her face still feels too warm for my liking, and I curse my stupidity once more. She shouldn't be here with me.

"I was dreaming we were stuck on some weird, out of the way loca--" Her words trail off as she glances out the window. "Fuck! It wasn't just a dream?"

"Sorry, babe," I murmur. "Jim called while you were sleeping. He said it's really rough tonight, no one to spare easily, so ETA's a few more hours until anybody can come out to come get us. My guess? Probably gonna be day shift that finally makes their way out here."

"Are you serious?" Her voice cracks slightly, causing a faint flush to her cheeks that isn't related to her fever. "What's so damned hard about sending out a fucking tow truck?"

"Hey, it's okay," I counter, shifting to face her better. "Jim's got our location, and said he'd call when someone heads out. That'll give us a two-hour head's up. We might as well make the best of this. We could nap in the backseat while we're waiting?"

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at me. "You planned this, didn't you?"

For a long moment, all I can do is stare at her. "Yes, Sara, you caught me," I snap. "I deliberately got you so sick, you can barely stand, and forced you to go to work. While doing that, I made sure that Grissom and Jim would send us out on this wild goose chase, so I could get us a bit lost and run over something that gave us a flat tire. And we can't forget the fact that the spare wasn't properly maintenanced, so it's a flat piece of shit, too. Oh, and I made sure to go on a huge crime spree so that everyone else would be up to their eye teeth in cases, just so I could have my way with you out here in the middle of the desert. What kind of ass do you take me for, Sara?"

There's a tension in her eyes, and I really do feel like an ass for making her feel worse than she already does. Thankfully, the night hasn't gotten overly cold yet, but we can only keep the engine going for so long, and I'm loathe to let her get any sicker than she is. Sitting behind the wheel for nearly three hours already has pushed me nearly to my tolerance limits. That doesn't mean I should be taking it out on poor Sara.

"I'm sorry, babe," I murmur, wincing when she turns to stare out the window again. "If I thought it'd be safe, I'd be driving us back home. But I don't trust the doughnut to stay inflated, and the original has a hole the size of my thumb in it."

"It's okay." She sounds more tired than anything, but even after nearly two years of being a couple, I can only barely note the depression. "I should've listened to you and stayed home. I'm in no shape to be anywhere but curled up in bed." I chuckle at that. "And no, not like you're thinking. You're insatiable, Curtis!"

I shrug noncommittally and undo my seatbelt before leaning over to undo hers. Opening my door, I motion toward the back of the Denali. "Nothing more than cuddling to conserve body heat, I swear. Plus? You look like you could use something softer for a pillow than the window."

She hesitates only briefly before mimicking my actions. Once in the backseat, she curls up against my side with a soft sigh. My right arm snakes around her waist, left hand carding through her dark hair, and once again I'm glad to have stowed my piece and shield in the center compartment while driving. After a moment, she pulls away to stretch over the back of the seat, grabbing water and a blanket. While she does this, I lock the doors and get into as comfortable a position as possible. I know from two years of experience that I won't be moving much once she gets settled in.

The blanket settles around our bodies as Sara practically wraps her upper body around mine again. Part of me wonders how badly I'll overheat between the blanket and Sara's fever. Then I remember that it'll be no different than sleeping with her in our bed. Well, except for that whole stranded in the desert thing.

"Thanks, Sofie," Sara mumbles, lips brushing against my throat.

"Any time. Rest now."

In no time, Sara slips back into sleep, snoring softly.

*****

I'm not sure when I drifted off, but I wake up to a strange buzzing against my hip. Blinking blearily, I struggle to get my phone out of my pocket.

"H'llo?"

"Hey, Sofie." Jim's amused voice wakes me further. "I got somebody on their way out to get you two, just pulling out of the lot actually. It's not a tow, but that'll be soon enough. How you two holding up?"

"I'll be happy to get the evidence signed in and sleep in an actual bed," I grouse good-naturedly. "And the sooner Sara gets home, the better."

"She still not a hundred percent?"

"The fever's not horrible enough for concern, but it's certainly not a bed of roses either. And leather seats aren't really conducive to sweating." The minute the words leave my mouth, I regret them. His knowing chuckle prompts me to stick my tongue out in his general direction. "Does everyone think I'm a horn dog or something?"

"Well, you are dating Sara, and she never smiled this much before that fact."

"But why does that make me the horn dog?"

"Take the compliment," Sara mutters against my throat, kissing the skin to punctuate each word.

Okay, that's not fair. I'm trying to be good here, between taking care of her and talking to Jim. Sara's not playing fair, damn it! She's distracting me enough that I miss Jim's next comment, which prompts him to bark out my name and repeat himself.

"Yeah, fine. I'll see you when we get back," I spit at him, hating that he has more ammo to tease me with again. I roughly shove the phone back into my pocket before shifting to face Sara. "And you..."

"Me?"

I'll give her credit for sounding innocent, but there's a devilish smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth that sends a jolt of desire down my spine. "Shameless hussy."

"I am not."

"Really? Let's look at the evidence, shall we?" I tick off each point on a fingertip. "You suction-cupped yourself to my body while you slept. Your hand was curled around my left tit practically the whole time you were sleeping. You were kissing my neck while I was trying to talk to Jim. And you didn't really try to hide your devious smirk when I called you out on it." Then I glance into her eyes. "And now you're giving me those bedroom eyes of yours, the ones I can't say no to easily. Shameless hussy. It's really very simple."

"Really?" she repeats my initial question. "So then I must have been dreaming it when your hand was cupping my ass and squeezing on a regular basis while I tried to sleep?"

"I was trying to get feeling back into my hand. You made my arm go to sleep." Even I don't believe my excuse.

Her only reply is to chuckle as she pulls me closer to nuzzle at my throat again. Damn it, I want a kiss! She kisses her way up to my ear, tongue daintily swirling around, and her hand unerringly finds its way back to my chest. Obviously, she's feeling better than I thought. Not that I'm complaining. Her teeth worry at my earlobe, fingers deftly unbuttoning my shirt. I shift back, stretching out beneath her on the seat as much as I can. My own hands aren't idle, tugging at the hem of her shirt, stroking up along the divot of her spine. As her fingers slip inside my bra, teasing my nipple, I let out a low, encouraging moan.

"And you say I'm the shameless hussy?" Sara teases, breath ghosting across the underside of my jaw. "I bet you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

"Sara," I breathe, arching into her touch.

"Yeah, I bet you're soaked, aren't you?" she continues in that low, husky tone. "Nipples all tight and needy, spreading your legs like a cheap whore. Who'd have thought the mighty Detective Curtis could be such a slut?"

"Sara, please," I whine, flushing hotly from both the need coursing through me and embarrassment at the veracity of her words. No one's ever made me this wanton before. "We don't have all night."

"I know," she murmurs before kissing me.

Her hands work quickly to push aside shirt, lift up bra, and even shove my black jeans down to my knees. I can only imagine how brazen I must look right now, but I don't damned well care. Either her fever's broken or she's ignoring it, but I really don't care. Her fingers move unerringly down my side, stroking and teasing my nerves, until she finally traces the contours of my pussy. She plays me like an instrument, pulling each whimper and cry expertly from me until I'm right on the brink of coming.

And suddenly I'm blinded. What the hell?

"Yo, Sofia, Sara! You okay in th--? Oh, put that shit away! I did not need to be seeing that!"

"Fuck off, Rick!" Sara growls, not stopping her fingers' deep, rhythmic thrustings.

"I'll be in the truck," he hollers, and I hear him moving away.

So close. So fucking close! I let out a sound that's half whimper, half growl.

"Come on, Sofie," Sara mutters, nipping sharply at my earlobe again. "I'm not sending you home with the equivalent of blue balls."

A few practiced flicks of her fingers and I'm riding that razor's edge of desire again, calling out Sara's name on a quavering wail. My body bucks beneath her, helpless against the onslaught of sensations. Is it possible to stay in this moment forever? Just as lassitude begins to settle over my body, I feel another heaviness. Blinking slowly, I realize Sara's slumped on top of me.

"Sara? Babe, you okay?"

"So tired," she mumbles, and I realize that I really shouldn't have let this go this far.

"Let's get you into the other truck and get you home," I whisper, kissing her sweat-damp forehead. "You just rest for a few minutes while I get the evidence in the other truck, okay?"

She nods and shifts back enough for me to pull up my pants and pull down my bra. Slipping out of the truck, I watch her for a long moment to make sure she'll be okay. Relatively certain, I head to the back of the Denali and grab as much of the evidence as I can grab in one trip. Heading over to the other truck, I can see Warrick standing there with a smug grin on his face.

"You? Best keep your damned mouth shut, Brown," I growl, shoving the box at him. "Any teasing is aimed at me. You leave Sara out of it. She's feeling shitty enough as it is."

"Didn't look like it a few minutes ago," he drawls slowly.

"Seriously, leave her alone or you lose your balls."

I can feel his stare as I head back to get another load of evidence. It's only as I pull the box to me that I realize my shirt's still open. Muttering dark curses under my breath, I button it up enough to be decent. Once all of the evidence is stowed, I head back to get Sara, who has dozed off again. She mutters and bats weakly at me as I try to wake her up.

"C'mon, babe, it's time to go home."

She nods and shuffles out of the car, letting me support her over to the truck. I can hear Warrick's startled "damn" as we get closer. I really was stupid to think Sara was really up to anything this strenuous. With Warrick's help, I get Sara settled in the backseat before retrieving my piece and shield.

"Jim said he told you I was on the way," Warrick says finally to break the silence of our trip home.

"Yeah, he called maybe half an hour before you got here. We thought it would be another two hours, and then Sara..." I turn to face him for the first time since getting in the car. "Swear to me that you won't say anything to anyone, especially Sara, or you'll be wearing your balls as earrings."

"Not a word, man, I swear." At least he sounds sincere. "We go back to the lab, sign in your evidence, then you're supposed to take Sara home for some shut eye. Brass mentioned taking her to the doctor, too."

I nod slowly, glancing back at my sleeping Sara. As soon as she's recovered, I owe her one mind-blowing orgasm, that's for damned sure.