Happy Birthday, Doc!

by Shatterpath


Disclaimer: "The Division", "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," "Birds of Prey," "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit," the characters, and situations depicted are respectively the property of Lifetime Television, Kedzie Productions, Viacom Productions, and Paramount [The Division]; Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions [CSI: Crime Scene Investigators]; Tollin/Robbins, DC Comics, and Time/Warner via the WB [Birds of Prey]; and Wolf Films, Universal Network Television, and NBC [Law & Order: SVU]. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised 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 "The Division", "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," "Birds of Prey," "Law & Order: SVU," Lifetime Television, CBS, the WB, NBC, or any representatives of the actors.

[Please do not fold, spindle, or mutilate. Thank you. Shatterpath]

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 Marg Helgenberger. So there.

Author's Notes: AJ and I had this idea months ago, and the muses finally got onboard. I will say, that once they get moving, they don't mess around!

Warnings/Spoilers: Nope, as long as you know the basic characters, you've got a ticket to ride.

Date: 11-22-02. And written in fits and starts in just a few hours, I might add.


God, I felt old.

Every joint ached, and the building felt too cold. Good thing I was done and could go home and relax. Some birthday I was having. Las Vegas couldn’t give an old man a break, just this once. Every wacko in a hundred miles seemed to have come out of the woodwork tonight. The night crew had looked exhausted when I had spied them off and on.

At the doors to the morgue, I stopped in surprise. Someone had taped up a ‘do not enter’ sign with Catherine’s signature to make it official. “What on earth?” I had only been gone from my domain long enough for some experiments over Greg’s shoulder. Leave it to Grissom’s gang of CSI monkeys to pull a prank on me to wind down a crazy night. But what if it wasn’t a prank? This kind of juvenile crap was too low-brow for Catherine, and there was no way in hell she would have signed that warning without a good reason. Damn.

Then I noticed something that had me all confused again. There was a lipstick kiss in the middle of the sign. It was the palest of gloss, barely visible on the heavy paper. If I hadn’t stepped in close enough to tear it loose, I would have never noticed. Tugging it loose, the dim light in the hall revealed a heart drawn around the kissprint in the same pale gloss. Hadn’t I seen Sara wearing that color? There were words on the back in black ink.

‘Happy birthday, old man,’ it read in Catherine’s distinctive handwriting. Beneath it was Sara’s tight scrawl that read, ‘you’re welcome.’

“Those girls have been working with Gil for too long,” I chuckled and pushed the door open.

Only to nearly die of a heart attack.

I don’t know what shocked me more, that Catherine and Sara were on the autopsy table… or what they were doing. Sara was hissing between her teeth, on all fours over Catherine sprawled out on the sheet-draped metal table. Both of them naked, sweaty and offering up the kind of show an old man could certainly appreciate. Dark head thrown back, muscles tense and Catherine’s hands worked busily between her legs, Sara was groaning like a porn star. “Oh God, Cath, please, please!”

There was no mistaking it, the earthquake of orgasm that rippled over Sara’s lanky body and left her sweaty and trembling it its wake. “Better?” Catherine purred as Sara half-collapsed onto her and they kissed softly.

“Whose idea was it to do this in the morgue?”

“Mine. You always tell me that I’m kinky, so this just proves it. Right?”

“Right,” Sara chuckled. “So now it’s my turn to molest you before we get caught.”

“Hell yes.”

“Good, I’ve got a perfect idea.”

How the hell Sara managed the feat, I couldn’t tell, but with a few quick maneuvers, Catherine was kneeling on the metal table with her ass in the air. Settling comfortable between the pale thighs with her feet dangling, Sara began stroking all that pale, rosy-flushed skin on display. There was little left to the imagination, Catherine’s breast pressed to the wrinkled sheets, normally reserved for pulling over corpses, her spine arched up to show off that nice ass and the teasing wink of pink and gold between her spread thighs.

I was getting hormonal reactions I couldn’t have controlled if someone had held a gun to my head. The shock of the overpowering, visceral reaction was like icy fire in my veins. I hadn’t felt so alive in… in years. Sara hooked her upper arms under Catherine’s thighs to raise the other woman up into a pose so base, so sensual and loving, that it could have been painted by our primitive ancestors on cave walls. Sara ducked down, her slim back bowing and her dark hair sweeping forward over Catherine’s upraised ass. There was a wet noise and Catherine’s voice yelped up an octave before warbling down to a broken moan. Fingers and toes gripped into the sheets, Sara leaned back to get a better angle, pulling Catherine until her arms locked with Sara’s legs. They moved with beauty and grace in the dance I was lucky enough to watch.

“Saaaaaaaaaara,” Catherine groaned, head flung back, hair sweaty and tousled where it splayed over her straining back. The panting grew sharper and harsher, the moaning and whining counterpoint to the tune. A distinctive growl echoed from beneath Sara’s concealing hair and Catherine peaked with a strangled shout. Rosy color raced across her smooth skin and she began to relax. “Damn, but you’re good at that,” she slurred softly as Sara wiggled out from beneath her.

They had to know I was here; I had opened the door and was now standing less than twenty feet away with a hard on that was making my whole body ache pleasantly. They had to! But Sara ignored me as she yanked her clothes back. Admittedly, it wasn’t going very fast as Sara kept teasing Catherine and stroking her bare skin. “C’mon sexy, can you imagine if Gris came looking for us?”

Catherine smiled lazily and wound a lock of brunette hair around her finger. “He’d never forget it.”

“True,” Sara chuckled and they kissed again, tender and soft. They had to be lovers, they were too easy with each other, there was too much adoration for this to be a one-shot deal.

And they had shared it with me.

I was humbled, awed and horny as hell. What an amazing gift. Catherine finally dove back into her clothes, even if Sara kept teasingly distracting her. One more time they cuddled there before gathering themselves and facing me. Sara scooped up the sheets while Catherine strode over to me. A quick kiss was brushed over my mouth and she wrinkled her nose playfully at the tickle of beard. “Happy birthday, old man.”

Sara too, gave me a quick kiss and they were gone. I blinked stupidly into my familiar morgue, wondering where the strange fever dream had come from. It couldn’t have really happened, the sexy sights of the two women conjured up from a feral part of my brain I barely understood. Except that when I went to the metal table under the cool spotlight.

The metal was still warm.

THE END