Horatio gazed lovingly at the woman sleeping peacefully next to him, breathing slowly and deeply in her slumber. No matter how often he looked at her, how often he kissed those luscious lips, caressed her silky skin or made love to her, he couldn't get enough. Today was the last day of their four-week honeymoon; four glorious weeks where they forgot about leukemia, forgot about the Mala Noche and sometimes even forgot to leave the bedroom. Horatio had whisked Marisol away from Miami to the other side of the world; he had always wanted to visit Australia but the opportunity had never arisen. Eschewing the big popular cities, the Caines found themselves in a sleepy little town in Western Australia. As hot as Miami - if not hotter – a luxurious self-contained apartment with beautiful ocean views, the colour of the earth a deep red and good-natured, relaxed locals, it was a little slice of paradise. There was plenty to do and see, or not, depending on what took their fancy. Tomorrow it was back on the plane for close to 24 hours, but at least they were flying first-class. Nothing was too good for his beautiful new wife.
Horatio gently ran his hand over Marisol's stomach as she lay on her back. Too hot for anything more than a sheet, bedclothes were at a minimum and often got kicked off during the night, revealing their nakedness. Her perfect breasts were inches from his face and he started tracing around one nipple with his finger. Marisol stirred slightly and the ghost of a smile appeared on her face, although she didn't open her eyes. Horatio knew he had her attention and continued stroking her stomach. He lingered for a while, also kissing her skin and using his tongue on particularly sensitive areas. He had discovered that behind the knee drove Marisol wild and he headed that way now. Caressing the back of her knee with his tongue caused Marisol to buck and moan, wriggling both away from and back into the ticklish sensation. Horatio then moved downwards and lightly kissed the soles of her feet. He had been surprised to learn that she was less ticklish here and he now gave her feet a brief massage, which earned him a murmur of approval. He then made his way back up, positioned himself between her legs and started pleasuring her with his tongue. Marisol gasped and stretched out, putting a pillow over her face to muffle any moans. Horatio felt himself becoming extremely aroused; performing oral sex on Marisol was intensely gratifying. He had always enjoyed pleasing his lovers but with Marisol, it was a hundred times better.
Eventually she urgently gestured for him to join her. He slid up the length of her body and entered her. They made love passionately until they both reached orgasm; over the last four weeks they had had plenty of practice with their timing. His heart pounding and gasping for breath, Horatio rolled to one side and put his arms around Marisol. She snuggled up to him, gently scratching his chest with her nails. Horatio figured that he had made love more in the last month than he had over the last five years. They had averaged about twice a day, with the odd bout of oral pleasure as an added bonus. Marisol surprised him one night by performing a particularly enthusiastic act of fellatio on him during a rather raunchy movie. No woman had ever got him this excited this often, especially as he no longer had the stamina that he had enjoyed in his early twenties.
Today, however, was not a day to spend in bed. They would go and do some more sight-seeing before coming back, having a swim in the enormous pool, then a romantic candle-lit dinner overlooking the ocean. The pair reluctantly dragged themselves out of the big bed and made themselves ready.
The day drifted along lazily, seemingly at half speed. The Caines enjoyed their sightseeing, although Horatio noticed that Marisol was looking a little pale. By the time they stepped off the tour boat, she was as white as a sheet.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" asked Horatio, concerned.
Marisol smiled up at him.
"I'm fine, my darling husband," she replied, "just a little tired."
With that, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Horatio caught her before she hit the ground.
"Somebody help me!" he shouted. "My wife has fainted!"
Within five minutes an ambulance had arrived and carted the pair off to the local hospital. Marisol came to inside the ambulance, looking a little dazed. Horatio sat beside her, holding her hand, frantically worried that she was seriously ill. When they reached the hospital, he sat with her until they took her for tests. After a while – to Horatio it felt like an eternity – he was able to see her. She was sitting on a bed in an examination room when he entered and took her hand in his. The colour had returned to her cheeks and she smiled at him.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Horatio asked worriedly. "Is it the leukemia?"
"No Horatio, I'm fine," said Marisol delightedly. "I'm better than fine. I'm six weeks pregnant!"
Horatio was stunned. He slowly sat down on the bed next to Marisol as he absorbed the news. The smile faded from Marisol's face and she looked at him anxiously.
"It's alright, isn't it?" she asked worriedly. "I mean, you did want this, didn't you?"
Horatio gave Marisol's hand a squeeze.
"Of course, sweetheart!" he said. "But how can you be six weeks pregnant? We've only been married for four!"
"It's calculated from the first day of my period," explained Marisol. "I must have been ovulating right around the time we got married. I can't believe it's happened so soon after finishing the chemo! I thought it would take longer!"
Horatio felt an enormous wave of emotion rising from deep within.
"I'm going to be a dad?" he whispered. He felt a huge grin slowly start to spread across his face. "I'm going to be a dad!"
He scooped Marisol up off the bed and spun her around, laughing delightedly. He then kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her protectively.
"Does this mean we can't make love anymore?" he whispered into her ear.
"Absolutely not!" whispered back Marisol. "We don't have to stop until the third trimester."
They passed the rest of the day in a shared euphoria, although Horatio started fussing around Marisol like a mother hen. He made sure she lifted nothing heavy, stayed off her feet and worried about what she was eating.
"Horatio, I'm pregnant, not an invalid!" Marisol protested. "I'm fine, we're fine!" She realised what she said and smiled delightedly. "Horatio, your family is fine! Especially with you to look after us."
That night and the next morning the lovemaking was gentle, tender. Horatio was glad that he could always make Marisol climax; it made his own that much more satisfying. Afterwards the pair packed, checked out and made their way to the airport. The flight was long but made much more comfortable by being in first class; it also made it easier for Marisol to access a toilet when bouts of nausea became too much.
The Caines finally arrived back in Miami in reasonably good shape. Despite being eager to share their good news, the couple decided to wait until Marisol reached the end of her first trimester. Horatio knew his inscrutable work persona had to be even more impenetrable; his team had the uncanny knack of sniffing out the smallest amount of gossip. Whether Marisol could hide the pregnancy from Eric though, that would be another story.
Another two weeks of wedded bliss passed, although work was tough on Horatio. The Mala Noche trial was approaching and everyone was assigned police protection, families as well. Horatio took Marisol out for breakfast one morning and introduced her to her escort. Confident that she would be in safe hands he went into work. But that afternoon, Frank Tripp sought him out to tell him that Marisol and Eric had been shot at.
Frank had driven him to the scene and Horatio rode in the ambulance with Marisol. He knew everything would be ok once they got to the hospital, but then the Mala Noche had cut them off, compelling the ambulance to stop. He got out and was forced to gun them down; there was no way he was going to leave Marisol a widow and his child fatherless. When he finally got to the hospital, the attending doctor uttered the words that brought his world crashing down around him.
"I'm afraid your wife has lost the baby," he said. "She was shot in the abdomen and there is damage to the uterus. I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do."
Horatio's vision darkened and he swayed, close to blacking out. The doctor grabbed him by the arm and helped him to a chair. He could hear the blood roaring in his ears and was only vaguely aware that the doctor was imparting yet more bad news; the delay caused by the Mala Noche meant that Marisol's life was in even more danger. When his head cleared and vision returned, Horatio knew what he had to do; he had to go back to the lab and find the culprit.
He went back to work for a couple of hours, until he got the call. Marisol was losing her battle with life and was asking for him. He raced back and sat with her, holding her hand until she died. He then called Eric who disregarded all the speed limits to get there.
"We have to get who did this, Eric," Horatio's face was a mask. "More than one person's life was taken from us today."
Eric, through his own grief, looked uncomprehendingly at Horatio.
"She was pregnant, Eric," Horatio whispered. "She was going to have our baby. You were going to be an uncle."
"Pregnant?" Eric choked back a sob, squeezing Marisol's lifeless hand. "How far along was she?"
"Two months," said Horatio. "We were going to tell everyone in another month."
The brothers-in-law stared down at the woman they both loved. Then looking at each other, wordlessly understanding what each of them had to do. Justice would be served this day.