This story evolved place. I am gearing up for Nano 2008 and working to much so this was thrown together when I should have been 1 working and 2 focusing on my Nano. So this was the result. And for the record, yes, I am a huge Cake fan and not so much at all a fan of Eric. Set post S6E1 so be aware of potential spoilers. I own nothing and mean no harm and would love reviews as this is my first CSI fic. Thanks and please enjoy.


By the time the adrenaline had soaked back in her body and her thoughts had cleared it had been too late. By the time the anger had abated and the shame had creeped up it was almost too late. By the time the fear had begun the real gut wrenching terror her time was up.

Jake was gone.

His phone was disconnected.

His name erased from the hearts and minds of his coworkers.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Without consideration for her work or her well being she had dived back into the life of Jake Berkeley. Had stood in the middle of his silent apartment until the pressure made her scream. had banged on every cops door only to have them shut firmly in her face. Had promised favors, called in debts, had begged Horatio, Horatio, to work his magic for her.

Desperation was not something she did well, but she did it with her whole heart and soul.

He couldn't really be gone, the thought had woken with her every day. At every turn she expected him to be there. A crooked grin and wild hair, a 'Hello beautiful,' on his lips. But he was never there.

He was gone.

Gone because she had called him in to help.

Gone because he had blown his cover in the worst way.

Gone because of her.

Gone for her.

Gone.

She wasn't sure when she had become such a selfish bitch. Such a cold one. How could she have done that. Asked that of him and in some fit of self-righteous selfishness shut him out.

She couldn't wait for him.

It was ludicrous. he could give up his case, his reputation, his almost life for her and she couldn't wait for him.

'Bitch.'

It hurt too much.

'Fucking Bitch.'

More than once she had seen a look in the fellow agents he had worked with. The disappointment, the hostility, they couldn't quite mask at the mention of his name. He was persona non grata there was danger to be sure, he had to be expunged to save his life, but it was clear that he had thrown a case. Weeks of undercover work wasted.

For her.

What the hell had she been thinking? Now that had a simple enough answer.

She hadn't.

No, she was a spoiled little girl at times and at no time had she acted worse than then.

His leaving, her revelation, it had trickled into all areas of her life.

The others were worried about her. Poor Eric had tried to be understanding, had tried to be there for her, and she loved him for it. Months he had waited and hoped and she had not been able to smile at him quite like he wanted. Eventually he had stopped waiting and for that she was glad. Natalia had offered a sympathetic ear, and while she hadn't accepted, the offer warmed her. Only Ryan had had an inkling, why, she didn't know, but when those nights had rolled around and he had shown up with tequila or jack, she had opened the door wide.

That had helped. The mind numbing alcohol had chased away the pain and the shame and the fear.

But only for a night.

A handful of hours she had breathed deeply again.

Only to wake up and have the ache return.

These days like most days, she walled up the feelings. Ever the cool and professional CSI no one would know, at a glance, that her heart was broken. It was only when the wall became too thick, too high, that Horatio would catch her eye, and she would see the dead space of her eyes reflecting back in his and the pain would burst free. Those days she would go home , would crawl under the covers and weep and scream and tell him everything she should have said, would be saying if he were here.

Here and not Gone.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, 2009, Valentine's Day, Memorial Day, she marked her time in major holidays now. One more occasion to be reminded of how alone she was. Alone because of her mouth and her choice and her fear.

So the days were finally longer again, the daylight staying as long as they were going to, and for that she was grateful. At night it was always the worst because at night she missed him the most.

The heat was as pure as it was able to be, the wet season had yet to arrive, and every ounce of discomfort was welcome. She wasn't in trouble until the pain being inflicted was brought on by her own punishment. But there were other types of punishment. And she had become an expert at them all. Not a day passed that she did not call or question or inquire.

The doors slamming in her face had become rote. The profanity and frustration aimed at her bounced off thick armor.

But she would not forget, would not go away, would not stop waiting.

It probably wasn't healthy, this single minded ambition, she wouldn't call it obsession, to find him and make things right, but she would not let it go.

Not even when the doubts would creep in. Those were the worse days. The ones that had her beating and sweating in the gym until even her brain was tired.

What if he had heard about her quest.

What if he didn't care.

What if he had found someone else.

-was touching, kissing, laughing, calling someone else 'beautiful'

What if?

What if?

Her biceps had never been so defined.

In no area was she certain anymore, in no area except one. Protecting his life, protecting his name, it was a job she would be successful in. Behind the wall of blue magic had been worked, a hint here, a whisper there, and it was revealed that the undercover officer involved with the Crypt Kings was none other than Kurt Fielding. Honored with bringing down the gang, a hit had been put out on the man, the name, the ghost.

After the arrests and revelations the self-destruction had begun. Each member of the Crypt Kings who had slipped through the initial bust that had come anywhere near Jake had been become her focus. She had become as familiar with those Ten as her closest friends. It had been her mission, her duty, to make them pay when Jake couldn't.

They had never seen her coming with her contacts and forensics she had successfully locked away the Ten. Ten lowlifes had been out and free while he was gone and one by one she had served justice to their door.

All had had priors, all had crimes steeped in special circumstances, and all had been scattered through the Federal Penitentiary System. None would ever set foot in the Florida Panhandle or any of its neighboring states again.

The last of them had been shipped to Illinois last week. That case had been the hardest. Following that trail the toughest. Staying within the boundaries of the law, not wanting to jeopardize a conviction, when he had had no such boundaries. She had been a little bit lucky and a whole lot of determined and success had come.

And then it was over, they were all gone, and Miami streets were finally, finally safe for him to walk down.

The elation had been short lived. Without a focus, without a purpose, the first day off after the transport bus had left Florida had been hard. The hardest day since the day after he had first left.

There had been empty hours. Nothing to research, no leads to follow. There had been aimless wondering by foot, by car, and the day had finally ended. Not a moment too soon.

Horatio had been concerned, had insisted on a vacation or simply time away from work, from Miami, had had her pack her bags and shipped out on a plane.

He had sent her here.

Back to Antigua.

Horatio would never presume that a week away from work would ease the pain, he knew better, but he had surmised that a place where the memories were clean and good, well it might just help. So she was sent where the air was warm and the thoughts could be good.

It was a clear sign of just how messed up her head was that she was sitting at the foot of a white sandy beach, the gorgeous water spread out in front of her and all she could think about was him.

But this was day One of Seven days and she would not let her heart stay so heavy the whole time. She would walk and swim and eat and soak in the moment. Remembering the good time they had shared here. Today she would take for the pain, would sift and sort through it all and then lock it away.

Her bungalow, one of several nestled right up on the beach, was small and rather sparsely furnished, but the view was breath taking. The rooms flowed one to the other and the ceiling high windows were continually open scenting the air with the sea.

Even now from the deck, she was close enough to the water that her people watching could be quite specific.

Honeymooners, families, retirees, new money, old money, stolen money, she could see them all.

All would be well, and a small smile would finally appear and she would hear a bit of a throaty laugh, catch a glimpse of wild hair, and her chest would tighten.

But it wasn't him.

He was gone.

That man was as tall as him and that Father had the same hairy legs, the newlywed had his hands glued to his bride in a manner so familiar she felt his palm on her abdomen.

God she missed him.

Perhaps it was fitting that she had dug out that turquoise bikini. The one she had bought especially for him, the one only his eyes had ever seen, since he had taken one look at her in it and carried her off to bed. He'd made her swear never to wear it again without his hands covering the bits that were showing to much.

She had laughed with him, had surrendered to his fingers, and would have promised him the world.

The world yes, but, she hadn't promised to wait.

She was wearing it now. It was perhaps a bit looser. The days of workouts had their ramifications. Tucked away on the deck, she was fairly certain no one could see her clearly, she really didn't want to break that promise to him, but just in case she had wrapped a brightly printed sarong around her waist before sinking into the rattan chair.

Maybe if she just sat here, right here, sipping on Pina Coladas, for the rest of time all would be well. Sounded good. But maybe not. Not when so may shapes and angles reminded her of him.

Like that one there.

In faded jeans and a white button shirt open to the air, she could almost see his profile if she squinted hard enough.

Could be.

Almost.

But wasn't.

He was gone.