Title: Somewhere In Her Smile
Author: Melanie-Anne
Email: melani_anne@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine *sigh* Characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer & co. The song belongs to George Harrison.
Summary: Here, they could just be two people in love. (Horatio/Calleigh)
A/N: This is what happens when you can't sleep and you're listening to the Beatles (and no, this is not the full song). Post-ep for Dispo Day. Feedback would light up my life ;o)
* * *
Something in the way she moves,
Attracts me like no other lover.
Something in the way she woos me,
I don't want to leave her now
,You know I believe and how.
She lay on her side, facing the window. The curtains were open, allowing moonlight to fall on her pale skin. He sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress shifted under his weight and he hoped he hadn't woken her. He reached out and touched her arm, his fingers gliding across her skin in a tender caress. She was warm beneath his hand. Her hair was damp and he felt his chest tighten as the scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. He licked his lips to moisten them, his mouth suddenly dry.
He lay down and spooned against her, sliding one arm over her belly to draw her nearer. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her citrusy smell.
"So how did everything turn out?" she asked. There was no trace of sleep in her voice.
"Did I wake you?"
"No. I tried to rest earlier but I was bouncing off the walls. It's terrible."
He kissed her bare shoulder. "You'll be okay. Take tomorrow off. You deserve a break."
"Yeah. I guess getting high goes above and beyond the call of duty." She chuckled.
"It wasn't your fault."
"Did it ever cross your mind that it was? When you first heard?"
"No." He didn't hesitate in answering. "I know you too well for that."
She was silent for a while, then she covered his hand with hers. "You still haven't told me what happened."
"Nedir Kire is Enrique Rayas."
"Reporters!" He could hear that she was smiling. "Did you get a confession?"
"Yeah."
Silence, again. He held her and closed his eyes. This was his favorite part of the day, when it was just the two of them. The world outside ceased to exist and he almost wished they didn't have to return to it. Here, they could just be two people in love. They didn't have to be professional and worry about keeping the proper distance. He hated having to wake up and know it would be another whole day before he could have her in his arms again.
At times it hurt to pretend they were nothing more than coworkers. He would watch her in the lab and ache to touch her. For a man who prided himself on his control, the depth of his feeling for the Southern blonde scared him.
As if reading his thoughts, she said, "You know, we're lucky they didn't ask if I was seeing anyone. The way I was giving out information, I'd have given them all the details."
"Yeah . . . Lambchop." He laughed, his breath falling softly on her skin. "I bet there's a story in there somewhere."
She stiffened in his arms. "I don't want to talk about my dad."
"Okay."
There was a vulnerable tone in her voice that he recognized. He had to remind himself that despite their closeness, both of them still had their secrets. And because of this, neither of them could completely let go. Relinquishing control scared them. It was one of the reasons he had known she hadn't taken the cocaine. He thought of how she had looked in his office earlier. The drug had affected her, had forced her to lose control and it was obvious how much she hated it. He had wanted to take her in his arms and hold her as he was holding her now. All that had stopped him was his sense of professionalism and the fact that IA was poking around.
And that damn control issue.
Maybe it was time to let go.
"I've been thinking," Calleigh said. "If you'd been hurt today . . . if you'd died . . . all we'd have is this . . . here. It's different at work . . . Here, you belong to me. I want more than this, Horatio. I want all of you."
He smiled; she was reading his mind again. He turned her around so she was facing him and gently ran a finger along the length of her jaw. She looked at him, nervously biting her bottom lip.
"I think," he began slowly, "Two apartments is one too many."
She smiled and shifted closer to him. He bent his head to kiss her. Time to let go, he thought. It was easy to lose himself in her.
"Love you," he murmured between breaths.
She pulled back suddenly, her eyes shining in the dim light. He realized they were wet with unshed tears and propped himself up on an elbow.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing . . . it's . . . you've never said that before . . ."
He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and waited for her to continue.
She smiled at him and lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling. After a while, she began to speak. "When I was eight, my father took us up to his friend's ranch. They had sheep and cattle there, and there was this little baby lamb that I fell in love with. It was tiny and white and fluffy, and I kept asking if I could take it home with us. I called it Lambchop and the whole time we were there, it followed me around like a puppy. On our last night, we had this big supper and there was mutton on a spit. I thought it was Lambchop and I threw a tantrum and locked myself in the bathroom. The next morning I saw Lambchop and he was fine. For a long time after that my dad called me Lambchop."
He slipped an arm under her and lay pressed against her; his other hand drawing lazy circles on her stomach. "Thank you."
"Horatio . . . I love you, too."
He smiled and decided he would never get tired of hearing her say that. "I think we should take one car in tomorrow," he mumbled into her neck.
As they drifted into sleep, he realized that he was looking forward to the morning.
Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her.
Something in the thing she shows me,
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how.