Down to One

Author: NotasboredasIlook

Rating: M for profanity, violence and adult situations.

Disclaimers: CSI: Miami and the characters belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer and they have far more time and money than I do. I'm just using the products of their genius for nonprofit fun.

Category: DuCaine. Angst/Drama/Romance

Summary: Her heart was a traitor.

Timeline: CSI: Miami Season 8 through "Bad Seed." After that I take our team in a different direction. No Kyle in Afghanistan and no more Delko and Calleigh rendevous'. This is a continuation from "Her Dark Life." If you haven't read that, you may get a bit lost.

Status: Work in progress.

Chapter 1

"My heart is a traitor, it led me down this road."Melissa Etheridge, Down to One

Water lapped lazily against the large boat as the sun began to rise over the Atlantic, casting shimmers of gold ribbons over the blue-green ripples of the ocean.

Horatio stood at the bow, leaning on the railing as he gazed up at the cloudless sky wondering what promises the new day held. In a gray T-shirt and faded jeans, he inhaled the salty, ocean air. The hour was early; Kyle, Ray Jr. and Frank were all still asleep, but with coffee in-hand, Horatio opted to greet the morning one-on-one.

The trip had been a simple joy, but a much needed one for each of the men on the boat. Horatio sipped his hot, strong coffee and thought about the way Kyle and Ray Jr. had become closer in the few short days they had been at sea. The two young men had much in common and - over fishing reels and bait - had begun to forge something akin to a brotherly bond. They were already making plans to go camping and hit some ball games over the summer.

He was grateful his son and nephew were getting along so well. Kyle had been alone for so much of his life and the last few years had been very hard for Ray. Both of the young men had had a tremendous impact on Horatio's life and he felt blessed for their existences in it. He held tight to what little family he had left. Family, after all, was the most important thing.

Horatio smiled at the thought and made a mental note to call Suzy in the next couple of days to check on her and Madison. She had moved to St. Augustine three years ago, but regularly made trips to Miami; not just for work, but to bring Horatio's niece for a visit. The last time he had seen them, he had marveled at how much Madison resembled his mother: They had the same color hair, same delicate features and the same soft smile.

"Mom would have loved her grandchildren," he thought sadly to himself as he stared at the water.

A warm spring breeze tousled his bright red hair, and, for a moment, Horatio considered that it was his mother's spirit reassuring him. He sighed slightly and relaxed into nature's caress. He knew that soon his reprieve into simplicity would be over and he would be back on land.

And back to work.

The group had been at sea for four days, doing nothing but fishing, talking and relaxing on the yacht Horatio had rented. They were due back later that day where Yelina would meet them at the pier to pick up Ray Jr.

Horatio tapped the side of his mug with his fingers, regretting that the trip had gone by so quickly. He felt like he never quite got enough time with his son, nor with his teenage nephew. Kyle was already a young man when Horatio met him for the first time, but somehow, Ray Jr. had grown up when he wasn't watching. He remembered the pride in Ray's voice on the day he held his infant son. He remembered the home video Yelina made him watch when her baby had taken his first steps. He remembered the way the child clung to him sobbing at Ray's bogus funeral. He remembered stepping in to guide the boy when his father was no longer there.

What he couldn't remember is when the boy had become a young man.

More than that, he mourned the loss of all of Kyle's early milestones and he wondered if anyone ever celebrated his son's life the way Ray Jr.'s had been celebrated. His own flesh and blood had been out there for 16 years, and Horatio had never known. Things would have been very different if he had.

"We can't change what is past," he thought, raising his face to the sun and embracing its warmth.

When he looked back down at the water, Horatio saw the reflection of a middle-aged man wearing guilt with the same ease that he wore his sunglasses. Taking a deep breath, he wondered if he would ever be able to make up that lost time to either of the boys.

After all, time kept moving even when he wasn't ready to.

"Dad?"

Horatio turned at the sound of his son's puzzled voice and smiled as Kyle approached him at the rail. The sleepy young man yawned and stretched, squinting against the bright sunlight.

When they had first met, Kyle was lanky and awkward, but two years made a world of difference and Horatio noticed his son walked with more calm and confidence. Outwardly, Kyle had his father's piercing blue eyes and demeanor, but had his mother's coloring and facial features. He had a good heart, but a quick temper.

He also never talked about his mother anymore. Horatio looked back out over the water as Julia drifted into his thoughts.

It had been two weeks since he had been called to Glendale Springs. He still hadn't told Kyle about it. Rationally, he knew his son had the right to know about his mother's mental condition, but Horatio wasn't ready to tell him yet. The boy was almost finished with his first year of college and should be focused on his classes instead of family issues he ultimately had no control over. Plus, for the first time in a long while, they were both relaxed and just enjoying the most traditional of father-son rites.

It wasn't the right time to bring up such emotional news to Kyle. But …

"When is the right time for something like this?" Horatio thought as he looked back at his son.

As if reading his mind, Kyle reached over and took his father's mug from his hand. Grinning, he took a large gulp of coffee then grimaced as he swallowed.

"Ugh, that is way too strong, Dad," he said, making a face that earned a chuckle from Horatio. "That stuff would strip paint."

"Ah, but it keeps me sharp, son," Horatio retorted.

"It's too early for anyone to be sharp. It's barely six o'clock," Kyle said scratching his head. "What are you doin' up so early?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking."

Mimicking his father's stance, Kyle rested his arms on the railing and leaned against it, looking out over the ocean. "About what?"

"What we're going to tell people when we come back empty-handed after four days of fishing," Horatio said as he looked over his sunglasses at his son. "We'll never live it down."

"Hey, I hooked that marlin, it isn't my fault the line broke," Kyle responded with a smirk as he slapped Horatio on the back.

"This is true."

The two stood in silence, listening to the soft sounds of the waves and watching the rising sun. Kyle's mere presence seemed to give Horatio a strength he didn't know he had before he found out he was a father. He drew on that strength and took a deep breath. If he didn't do this now, he doubted he would ever be able to.

"Son, there is something I need to tell you," Horatio said hesitantly, "about your mother."

Kyle shifted his gaze from the ocean to his father, and Horatio saw the hardening in his eyes. The young man frowned and then shook his head.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to know," he replied sharply.

"Kyle …"

Kyle stood up straight and pushed back from the rail. He looked at Horatio with a coldness that was all-too familiar to him.

"I told you, I don't want to know."

Horatio stood as well and looked down at his feet. "Kyle, she is your mother and no matter what problems she may have, she loves you."

"Yeah, she loved me so much she put a gun on me," Kyle spat. "What kind of love is that?"

Horatio looked up into his son's angry eyes and remembered the day Julia had taken his staff hostage while demanding that Kyle go with her before turning the gun on herself. He had been there just in time to stop her from pulling the trigger.

He had been terrified, but wouldn't allow himself to show it. He had held his calm façade for hours until he had gotten home later that night. He simply walked through the door of his home, sat down on the couch, buried his head in his hands and cried in frustration, anger and fear.

"She's ill, Kyle," he said gently. It was the thing same he had had to tell himself in order to keep it together. "She wasn't in her right mind when she came to the morgue that day. She would never intentionally do anything to hurt you."

Kyle folded his arms and tilted his head to the side. "But that's the rub, isn't it? Because she's a whack-job, it's okay for her to mess with other people's lives. She can't be held responsible for the havoc she wreaks. She's destructive, Dad. People got hurt because of her."

Approaching his son slowly, Horatio put his hand in Kyle's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. Still holding eye contact, Horatio spoke low: "Your mother has a serious mental illness, Kyle. She is not a whack-job, and you should never refer to her that way. You are better than that."

Kyle looked away and sighed. "I can't deal with it right now, okay?" He said softly, the fiery anger now gone. "I'm not ready and honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be."

Horatio nodded. "Okay, we'll let it go … for now," he said sternly. "But at some point, we are going to have a very serious discussion concerning your mother."

"Okay, Dad."

Giving Kyle's shoulder another squeeze, Horatio released his arm. "Good man," he said with a small smile.

Kyle nodded and looked out at the ocean. He was quiet for a few minutes before he looked at his father again. "What time do you think we'll get back in?"

Horatio shrugged. "Well, I told Yelina to meet us at the pier around 3 p.m., so we've got a couple of hours before we have to head back. Why?"

A blush crept up Kyle's face and he looked down. "I, um, sort of have plans tonight with Cassie."

The mention of Kyle's new girlfriend made Horatio's eyebrows rise. While he and his son hadn't specifically made plans for that evening, he had thought they would have dinner or something.

"Ah, Cassie," Horatio grinned. "Am I ever going to meet this young lady?"

"Maybe," Kyle laughed. "But not tonight. I'm taking her to Zobu for our five-month anniversary."

"Five months," Horatio teased. "Sounds like it's getting serious, son."

"We'll see," he retorted. "She's a great girl. I really like her."

Horatio nodded and leaned against the railing again. He could relate to his son's feelings. His thoughts strayed back to CSI. Specifically, to the ballistics lab …

"That's okay, Kyle," Horatio said whimsically. "I, uh, actually owe someone dinner myself."

Kyle looked surprised, but he smiled broadly, his blue yes sparkling with mischief. "Oh yeah? Who?"

In the back of the boat, Horatio saw Frank moving around the cabin and assumed Ray Jr. would be awake as well. Wanting to make the most of what little vacation time they had left, he tossed the remainder of his coffee off the side of the boat, and patted his son on the back.

"None of your business … yet," he smirked. "Now, let's get some breakfast and see if we can't catch something worth bragging about."


Disappointment was a part of life, this fact Calleigh Duquesne knew far too well.

Her first real – and most memorable – experience came when she was very young. She had been so excited for her seventh birthday party. Her mother had hired a magician. Her father had arranged for pony rides. There were balloons, a huge cake with pink and white frosting and a bowl of punch the size of a swimming pool. The event was catered, lights were strung from the house to the farthest end of her family's property. Her brothers even agreed to be on their best behavior.

The day of the party, Calleigh couldn't wait for her guests to arrive. Dressed in what she considered her prettiest dress – a frilly little yellow dress with white tulle and little blue flowers on the skirting – she sat on the stairs in front of the door, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

Thirty minutes after the party was supposed to have started, Calleigh opened the door and checked to see if anyone was pulling into the driveway. An hour later, she started to cry softly as the pony was packed up and hauled away. After two guestless hours, the magician left, her parents started drinking and Calleigh went up to her room, took her dress off, turned off the lights and went to bed. Later that night, she would overhear her parents drunkenly argue about who was supposed to have sent out the invitations for the party.

In time, she came to accept that it was an accident that was the result of miscommunication, and that her parents had had the best of intentions.

It still didn't make it hurt any less.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she thought as she listlessly tapped her fingers.

She stared at the desk in front of her, trying to analyze the photos, the ballistics and the trace evidence taken from a shooting the day before. On the outside, the case appeared to be cut-and-dry: After years of physical and emotional abuse, a housewife had finally been pushed too far and emptied the magazine of her husband's Sig Sauer P225 into him while he slept.

The catch was her husband had been M.D.P.D.: Sgt. Dean Landon.

When Calleigh and Walter had arrived at the scene, she had seen Gwen Landon's bruised face and inwardly cringed. Walter told her later that Gwen had been to the emergency room twenty times in the last year alone with multiple fractures and broken bones. Each time, she had turned away help from the medical staff and counselors. Gwen would never admit that her husband was beating her.

But she would ultimately confess to killing him.

Calleigh sighed as she looked at the autopsy photos. Landon had been well known and highly respected. He had more commendations in his file than Calleigh had guns in the vault. More than that, he had always been very nice and outgoing. She was still having a hard time believing he was capable of such violence against his wife.

"Everyone has a dark side. It makes sense Gwen wouldn't tell the cops about her problem," Calleigh muttered softly with a frown as she stared at the autopsy pictures. "What choice do you have when you have nowhere to go and no one to trust?"

She couldn't help but feel disappointment for the Landons: She was disappointed in Dean for his cruelty and she was disappointed that Gwen felt she had no other means of escape other than to murder her husband.

She rubbed her face and checked her watch: 3:26 p.m. She had been standing, staring at the evidence for precisely five hours and twenty minutes without so much as a bathroom or lunch break. At one point, she had considered getting some coffee and fresh air, but opted against it, not wanting to break her concentration.

There was something she was missing … she could feel it.

She picked up one photo, only to slam it down and grab another one. Each one she examined revealed nothing new to her. Finally, she shook her head and began placing the items back into evidence envelope. After re-taping and marking each one, she boxed everything back up and took it to the evidence locker.

Ten minutes later, she sat on the stairs outside the back of the building. A warm breeze blew through her blonde hair and she closed her eyes, wanting to relax into it, fatigue starting to get the best of her. She leaned her head against the rail and allowed herself to drift.

Despite her resolution not to think about him, she found herself wondering what Horatio was doing. She knew today was the last day of his vacation and she genuinely hoped he was enjoying his time with Kyle and Ray Jr.

Rather than wallow in the disappointment she felt after Horatio cancelled their date and left town on whatever "matter" he had to attend to, Calleigh threw herself body and soul into work. He returned a couple of days later - again apologizing for canceling dinner - wrapped up the mall murder, and then left again.

In all of that, however, he never mentioned rescheduling dinner. Calleigh regretted that she had expected him to.

The fact was she had been confused about what had actually transpired that day at the mall murder scene between she and Horatio. At the time, it seemed like something fundamental had changed between them, and she was sure he felt the same electricity in her touch as she had in his.

Then he had asked her to dinner … only to cancel at the last minute.

At first, she was disappointed. Then she was confused. Now, she was convinced that she had misinterpreted what had actually happened that day. Other than make dinner plans with her, he never gave any verbal indication of an attraction. Prior to that, he had been making more of an effort to work with her and check on her well-being. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that was just who Horatio was: The protector. He was always concerned about his people, and she had hit a rough patch in her life. It made sense that he was just making sure she was okay. Logically, this situation was no different than the countless other times she had watched him help his friends and staff.

And Calleigh was nothing if not logical. Her head told her she had simply misread Horatio's good intentions.

She also decided that she needed to stop listening to her heart. It was the best way to save her from disappointment.

Calleigh opened her eyes when her stomach growled. Skipping lunch hadn't been the best plan. She stood and went back into the building.

"A granola bar is better than nothing," she thought, considering her snack options.

As she walked toward the breakroom, her phone trilled at her hip. Rolling her eyes and seeing her snack break slip away, she unclipped it, expecting to see a call out on the digital display.

Instead, it read: HORATIO.

In spite of her previous resolution, her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped. Shaking her head, she quickly pushed down the feeling, realizing that after a week of being away, he probably wanted to be sure she hadn't burned down the lab.

"Don't look for what is not there, Calleigh," she told herself as she hit the "talk" button and raised the phone to her ear.

"Duquesne."

"That is music to my ears."

His voice was light but smooth and Calleigh found she had to keep herself from having a physiological reaction to it.

"How was your trip?" she asked as she entered the empty breakroom and sat down.

"Short, but effective," he replied evenly. "How is everything there?"

"I promise you that the lab is still standing, though we haven't be able to find Ryan for a few days," Calleigh joked. "We think Walter may have stuffed him in a locker but there is no evidence to support that. Jesse is considering filing a missing persons report, but Natalia says no one really misses him."

Horatio's chuckle was deep and throaty and Calleigh suddenly felt warm. Leaning back in her chair, she tapped her fingers against the armrest.

"Seriously though, I'm working on a shooting," she said. "Sgt. Dean Landon's wife shot him in his sleep. It's got a lot of people on edge. Gwen says he had used her as his own personal punching bag for a long time."

Horatio was quiet for a minute and Calleigh wondered if she just ruined his vacation.

"I knew Dean," he murmured. "What does the evidence say?"

Calleigh exhaled. "The evidence corroborates her story."

"Hmmm."

Rubbing her eyes, Calleigh sat up and rested her elbows on her knees. The Landon case had worn her out and she needed a diversion.

"So … did you guys catch anything good?"

After a few seconds of silence, Horatio spoke: "Would you believe me if I said we hooked Jaws?"

Calleigh smiled. "I can see Frank taking on a Great White. The rest of you guys, not so much. No offense."

"You give Texas too much credit, Calleigh."

"Sorry, Chief Brody but I don't buy it."

Horatio laughed out loud that time and Calleigh was surprised by it. He had chuckled before, but it had been years since she had heard him honestly laugh at something she said.

She had to admit it made her feel good. But it was short-lived.

"Dangerous waters, Calleigh," she thought as she chewed on her lip.

Horatio, however, could not see her sudden apprehension.

"I'm, um, still sorry about breaking our previous plans and was wondering if I could make good on that raincheck for dinner … tonight?" He asked, his voice low but sincere.

Calleigh felt her face flush and she looked down. Her mind screamed "No" but her heart refused to be ignored. She cursed her resolve for faltering so easily at the mere sound of his voice.

"Um …"

"I've missed you, Calleigh."

She paused. She had no doubt his words were heartfelt, and the sultry tone of his voice was too much for her to ignore. Though she was sure she would regret it later, Calleigh let go of her hesitation.

"Okay," she said softly, reminding herself that it was just dinner.

Horatio paused again and Calleigh wondered if he heard her. "Good, it's a date," he said happily. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Alright," she replied, his use of the word "date" throwing her off-kilter. "See you then."

As she hung up the phone, Calleigh closed her eyes and prayed Horatio wouldn't disappoint her again.


A/N Here's my second DuCaine installment. What you ya'll think? I heart reviews. They motivate me.

I won't give away too much, but I will say this one will have more, actual romance in it than "Dark Life." :)