Title: Can't Help Myself (1/?)

Author: Andrea (abc3969)

Disclaimer: Me no profit, you no sue.

Rating: PG on a sliding scale, eventually arriving at R, I think. Please read responsibly-don't want to contribute to the delinquency of any minors out there. ;P

Pairing: While I might explore the potential of other duos on occasion, my heart will always return to H/C; and so, to my own muse I must be true.

Archive: Is anybody archiving these? If so, just say so. I'll come visit.

Spoilers: None

Author's Notes: Many thanks to Lady Laeta for allowing me to expound on her reference to Norah Jones' "I've Got to See You Again" from her own earlier piece. Hope I did it justice.

Feedback: If you please. Be gentle.

*****

Can't Help Myself (1/)

The first translucent rays of the Miami sunrise burst through the plantation blinds of her bedroom, shattering the last vestiges of sleep for Calleigh Duquesne.

Unable to prolong her slumber by hiding beneath her sheets, with a muffled groan and a luxuriant cat-like stretch, she languidly came fully awake, only to bolt upright and instantaneously go stock still as the memory of last evening assailed her senses.

She had been working late in the lab, studiously pouring over crime scene photos from her newest assignment-a particularly bloody multiple murder by means of a nondescript .22 caliber rifle.

Even before his body entered the room, she could sense his aura approaching her from behind. Without looking up or even deferring the task at hand, she allowed herself the slightest hint of a smile, though she quickly covered it with her fingers under the guise of striking a contemplative pose.

She continued working even as she felt him lean into her personal space, his warm moist breath tickling her earlobe and stirring wisps of her hair. The resulting telltale shiver traversed her body with lightning speed. Ever the observant investigator, Horatio chuckled at the unbidden reaction she had so adeptly tried to conceal.

"Hard at work, I see," Horatio's voice penetrated her being like velvet- covered steel.

As was always the case whenever he spoke to her, and her alone, Calleigh's thousand-watt smile lit up the room and caused an equally conspicuous flutter in Horatio's pulse.

"My dance card was depressingly empty tonight, so I thought I'd get a jump on my new case," Calleigh sighed, almost regretfully.

"It's late, and I can say with a high degree of certainty that you haven't eaten in hours. Want to grab a bite before we put a lid on this week?" Horatio asked.

After only a few seconds time, Calleigh rose from her chair, grabbed her purse and sweater and made for the door.

"You're on, Handsome," she gratefully accepted.

*****

Horatio expertly maneuvered the Hummer into the parking spot beside the Italian bistro he knew Calleigh favored, but seldom had the opportunity to frequent.

Dinner here was an event of epic proportions, with each course, from appetizer to dessert, ceremoniously presented and laid out before the patrons in grand, sweeping style. Violins hummed unobtrusively in the background and whisper-soft golden candlelight provided the luminous ambiance Horatio had always surreptitiously associated with the Southern Beauty now seated gracefully across from him.

These dinners for two had become an unspoken custom. The easy conversation and the respite they each felt as a result of their times alone together were more than enough justification for broadening their working relationship. What started out as camaraderie

between mentor and protégé had somehow evolved into a "testing of the waters" that they both were aware would, almost inevitably, lead to involvement of a much more personal nature.

Even in this elegant locale, their meal would take on a playful bent. She would feed him forks-full of risotto and he would offer her bites of veal, smothered in rich marinara sauce and mounds of mozzarella cheese. Invariably, the sauce would trickle down her chin, a constant enticement that Horatio would physically fight the urge to kiss away.until last night.

Horatio could no more have prevented his actions than he could have stopped time. The last ephemeral thread of restraint he had so dubiously held between himself and Calleigh snapped sharply and cleanly in twain.

Without preamble, Horatio delicately smoothed his index finger along her cheek and over her chin, scooped up the remnant of sauce, and brought his finger to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers, which, by now, were focused with rapt attention on the digit in question.

Unable to do so much as blink, she watched as Horatio slid his sauce- slickened finger through his lips and ended the spectacle with an over-exaggerated smack, the sound of which elicited a startled jump from Calleigh. Horatio's irreverent chuckle at her response indicated that, undoubtedly, he was in full control of the situation and completely aware of the double entendre the action expressed.

The unspoken communication that had so recently pervaded their professional relationship now appeared to be in full force and effect in this more intimate setting.

Wordlessly, Horatio reached for his wallet, hurriedly tossing bills onto the table, and rose from his seat, extending his other hand toward Calleigh in silent invitation to follow his confident, determined lead.

*****

TBC.