A Note from Me to You: The handfasting ritual on chapter 3 is based on a rite written in Raymond Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft and information on the faery folk can be found in A Witch's Guide to the Faery Folk by Edain McCoy. Enjoy everyone!

Chapter 1

Another hot Miami night was underway but this night was to be different for Horatio Caine in two ways. For one, he was going to a club, something he hadn't done in years. Second, he was going to a club with a co-worker. A day ago Calleigh Duquesne had offered to buy him dinner and treat him to a show and, unable to say no, Horatio accepted.

It was odd to see Calleigh off-duty. She was traded in her slacks and high heels and blouses for jeans, ankle-high boots, and a black Motley Crue T-shirt. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Horatio felt slightly embarrassed that he was clad in the same suit he had worn to work this morning. "Remind me again," he said, "of what show we're seeing tonight?"

"Some good ol' fashion bellydancing," said Calleigh with a smile. "I figure that you could use a change from the usual Miami strippers."

Horatio chuckled. "True."

"H?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"I've got a flyer for the show tonight in my glove compartment," said Calleigh. "I think you might like to see who the dancer is."

Horatio felt curious and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a bright-pink flyer for Club Blue, a new club on Flagler. On the flyer was a picture of a tall beautiful woman dressed in the costume of a bellydancer but the familiarity of her face hit Horatio's heart like a brick.

Belladonna Llewellyn.

She had left Miami for a few months to look after her older brother, Bran, who had returned from Iraq with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. A few months became two years apart from each other…the most miserable two years of Horatio's life. Sure, Marisol's presence made him happy and feel love again but Belladonna's absence had left a black void in his soul. He missed her smile and her voice, seeing how the sunlight would make her red hair the color of fire, how her blue-gray eyes sparkled when she smiled at him.

He missed the way she felt whenever he held her in his arms and the scent of her hair and skin. He wondered, foolishly, if she missed him as much as he missed her.

"Horatio?"

He looked at Calleigh who was looking at him worriedly. "You OK?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"You don't look fine," said Calleigh. "Do you want to eat somewhere else?"

"No, it's OK," said Horatio.

Club Blue was packed with people waiting to see Belladonna dance. Calleigh and Horatio got a table and ordered two iced teas and two steak dinners, realizing that they were very close to the stage. Anticipation settled in his stomach and Horatio wondered for a brief moment if he could keep dinner down. "Hey Calleigh?" he asked.

"Yeah, H?"

"Thank you…for this."

"Hey," she said with a grin, "anything. Besides, this'll be good for you. You need a break."

The lights dimmed and the club owner came out to the lit stage. He was chubby and short, with thinning black hair and blue eyes. He welcomed everyone to the club and said, "I'm Lucky Mitchell and I'm proud to present for your viewing pleasure…Lady…Belladonna."

He got off the stage and Horatio felt the uneasiness in his belly lift at the sight of Belladonna Llewellyn.

She wore zills on her thumbs and middle fingers, the black brassiere and wrap skirt shining with silver spangles, the hip belt equipped with metal disks. She still looked the same, except her long hair was no longer the vibrant red that Horatio remembered instead it was the color of a raven's feather, making her skin whiter than snow. Her blue-gray eyes were shining as she faced the audience with a seductive smile on her lips. She looked, to Horatio at least, intoxicating…the most beautiful woman on earth.

The music began and, going along with the fast beat Belladonna began to dance.

She bounced her right hip, thrust both her shoulders. She tilted her pelvis and belly-rolled, she lifted and pivoted both her hips. She was moving with the music smoothly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was so quiet that Horatio could hear a pin drop, but he heard nothing but the loud beating of his heart.

She looks so beautiful, he thought. She hasn't changed at all.

Next Belladonna went to a slower routine, this time with a gossamer veil of silk as her aid. The music was slow, more entrancing. She held the veil in front of her face and moved her head slowly from side to side, belly-rolled and then, in one slow and fluid motion, she moved her entire upper body in a smooth circle, the veil flowing behind her.

Horatio felt longing pierce his every being as he watched her finish her routine. Did she see him out here, watching her? He had a fierce hope that she did. Maybe…just maybe…he could meet her backstage…

- - - - -- - - - - - - -- - - -

Belladonna was glad to be out of that costume and back in her own clothes. She stood before her tall mirror in her dressing room straightening her hair and dreading the upcoming show in Orlando.

The dress she wore was her favorite: leafy-green and moss colored with spaghetti straps and cargo pockets, it had a shirred back and an elasticized bodice and it was trimmed with grosgrain ribbon and was fully lined. Her mother's silver pentacle fit the dress well, the shine of it as luminous as the skirt.

"Belladonna?"

She knew that voice, had heard it a thousand times in her dreams, had longed to hear it again. She closed her eyes and turned slowly, hoping…praying…

She opened her eyes and saw a tall red haired man standing in the doorway, a man both loved and longed for…was he another dream? She looked at him through her tears and he smiled softly at her.

"Horatio?" she asked. "Is it you?"

He came closer and so did she, and before she could even get a word out she burst into tears and he pulled her to him. He held her as she cried on his shoulder, whispering comfort in her ear and running his fingers through her hair. She knew that she still loved him deeply and that she always would. When he pulled away to look at her she met his blue gaze and finally found her voice.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have cried all over you, I…" The touch of his hand on her cheek was warm and gentle.

"There's no need to apologize," Horatio said softly. He looked her up and down and a smile crossed his face. "You look beautiful, Belladonna," he said softly. "You were incredible out there."

"Thank you," Belladonna replied. "I didn't see you out there…but I'm glad you came. It means so much to me…"

Horatio smiled. "How about a drink?" he asked. "I'll buy."

"Horatio…" Joy was erupting all through Belladonna's body, she had never felt this happy in years, but she tried to hold back. Two years ago he had lost his wife, Marisol, to the Mala Noche (she saw it on the news). The last thing she wanted was to break his heart again.

She pushed passed her insecurities and smiled back. "Sure," she said. "That'll be great, Horatio. Thanks."

Horatio faltered. He looked at her with concern. "You OK, sweetheart?" he asked.

Belladonna looked at him, longing…aching…to hold him once again in her arms and feel the warmth of her lips against hers, the electric fiery heat that generated in her body whenever he kissed her. She wanted to tell him that she had been wrong to leave him that she should have brought Bran to Miami with her, that she still loved him…but she didn't. She couldn't.

She forced a mask onto her face, a plastic smile on her lips. "I'm fine," she said, though her heart was screaming at her to say it, just once: I love you.