AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here's the next chapter of this tale, Touch Me, See Me! I hope you enjoy, and please review! :)
P.S. My apologizes for the long absence. I'm pretty sure the darn hospital is gonna start charging me rent! :/
- Shadewynde
WARNINGS:
Somewhat spooky description of one bad guy making a deal with another.
This will hit the "M" rating, but assure you I am trying for a tasteful "M". This is my first attempt in this department, so I must beg your indulgence
and ask that if I come across in any way way over the top, please let me know.. ::gnaws nails and tries very hard to ignore Muse:: If you are offended
with an "M" scene (a loving intimate encounter between consenting adults), please beware and I apologize in advance. I've never tried my hand at this
type of scene, but again, I hope it does not offend.
LOST SON OF AVALON
by Shadewynde
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am...
- "Iris", Goo Goo Dolls
Chapter 37 - Touch Me, See Me
For a moment, there was total silence, then one of the older boys - Sinan - drew in his breath sharply, an attempt to hide his emotions.
"Thank you, Amah." he murmured, and his voice was joined by the group, all eyes on Horatio.
The redhead stood still and silent for several moments, letting the emotions flow over his body - and through his heart.
Something made him turn around, his eyes catching the silhouettes of Jack, Calleigh and Eric, almost hidden by the thick curtains.
Almost.
He stiffened, feeling an ice-cold chill cut through him, something painful and hurting, then he turned back to the children, most of whom were taking shaky steps to follow the - nightmare - he had shown them.
Danced. The mocking voice was so cold it burned, so edged it cut into his heart.
Down the dark corridor of his past, the old pain rose up in him - cold, aching shame.
Hot pain as his hands bled, as his back was sliced into.
A familiar voice from that same past, mocking and vicious, being pulled off his feet...
No! He shoved the memory away, feeling a bone-deep weariness start to pulse in time to his blood.
Horatio spoke calmly, though inside he felt as if everything was snapping apart, tearing, edges ripping into him, falling away.
"I'll be right back." And how could he not? How could he tear the dance from his soul, cast aside the music in his heart?
Adult eyes staring down at his child-self, full of contempt and dismissal.
His heart breaking, shattering, as his dreams were ripped from him, that adult shadow-presence striking out...
They saw.
Two words, and the old hurt and shame threatened to crawl up his throat and strangle him.
Just two words, and his the mirror of his world shattered.
They know.
Horatio was out of the studio and down the hall, refusing to run, but the voices of his past followed him, the claws of their mockery and contempt tearing his world asunder.
He had long ago learned to control his tears.
But he could not deny the pain that he had just lost everything
And that speeded his steps rapidly to a run.
Jack uttered a particularly vile curse as his younger friend and protege' turned sharply and was gone.
The older man shook his head, turning back to the two CSIs.
Not only as head of a world-famous dance Company, but as an old friend, he had hoped - prayed - that Horatio would finally see he didn't need to keep his gift secret anymore.
That he would find that he could be not only accepted, but - rejoiced - in himself.
Oh sure, it sounded cheesy as a grilled cheese sandwich, as oversweet as a Coke with fifty sugar packets in it, but damn, the kid was not some sort of futuristic gunslinger with a chip on his shoulder, ten-gallon hat, and a cheap cigarette dangling from his lip!
Okay, he admitted silently to himself, I admit it. I wanted his family to see him. To give that kid reason to stop hiding!
"He's gonna have me on a spit." he groaned aloud. "I should've known he'd know we were here." He covered his face with his hand a moment, then shook his head, then shook his head. "Poor kid."
Eric was wide-eyed as he looked over at Calleigh, then back at Jack.
"I never thought H - but it was - that was - wow." He had to take a breath to calm the surprisingly powerful emotions that had welled up within him in response to what he
had seen.
Looking after his - father, brother, teacher, friend - Eric turned back to the older man, thinking aloud, "Why is H -" Running? - "Why did he leave...?"
"Perhaps it would it wise to address why Horatio fears gifts so uniquely his own?"
All three almost jumped a foot, but Calleigh spoke first, recognizing the voice - and the tall form leaning against the wall.
"Ian!" she half-yelped, "What are you doing...?"
Ian cocked a raven eyebrow. "You will swiftly discover that where my son goes, I follow." He straightened. "If he wishes comfort, or if he need only a target to strike aside the pain, then there stand I."
Eric looked more than a little confused, but Calleigh understood.
Those emerald eyes pierced them all, though the voice was very soft.
"Judgement has no place in love." Ian's flicked toward the shadow-touched door his son had disappeared through. "Judgment wounds. Love heals."
Ian's gaze returned to the shocked CSIs and Horatio's old friend, who was eyeing the mysterious newcomer closely.
"That is why Horatio did not stay." He frowned, but it was more concerned and sad than angry. "But where shall he go?" His eyes locked on the pair standing next to Jack.
Eric stared at the tall man. "Wait...H thinks we'll..." His dark eyes were shocked.
Ian simply regarded them with an unreadable expression.
The tall young Cuban shook his head, worry shadowing his gaze. "We should...talk to him. That was incredible, he's got no reason to run!"
"Let me try."Calliegh spoke up.
It was part plea and part demand.
Horatio's enigmatic father sketched a bow in her direction.
"Remember that the hurts of a lifetime cannot be healed in a moment. One does not let go old wounds either quickly nor easily." His emerald eyes flickered with lightning. "Take care of my son, Calliegh, Eric. For all his strength..." A pause, one that spoke volumes of concern and sad protectiveness, "if you show me a hero, I shall show you
tragedy incarnate." A quick nod, as grief darkened the intense green of his eyes. "I return to aid in the hunt for those who sought to harm Horatio." His eyes flickered fiery green. "I will meet you when you return there."
And Ian was no longer there.
Jack stared at the empty space a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not sure I wanna know." he commented, wryly.
Calleigh ignored everything as she hurried down the steps and after the man she loved.
You're not going to be alone, Horatio. Even if I have to pin you to a wall and hang on, you're not going to be alone!
Andozza was pacing, focusing slowly on his - their - plans.
Joseph and Matthew were outside, kneeling in prayer, ready to follow his commands, orders from on high given through him.
He sat silent for a few moments, then smiled darkly to himself, the missing pieces falling neatly into place as he thanked the Lord that he had favored him to lead this Holy Crusade.
There was a knock, and he looked up.
"Enter." he commanded.
He had half expected the eager and energetic Matthew, but instead, Viktor ambled in the door, shutting it quietly behind him.
Andozza leaned forward, believing that the Lord would guide them - and this piece would open the door.
"What did they say?"
Viktor's smile was sinister. "Their - leader - agreed. Though they are Beasts, there may be an ounce of nobility in some few, Father Andozza."
A snort. "Such beings are but tools on our holy mission. When they stop being useful tools, we will grant them a quick death, and allow their damned souls the Last Rites."
"One of them accompanied me, as you asked." Viktor's eyes had an eager shine.
The older man leaned forward in interest.
"Send him in."
"Her, Father."
Andozza was no fool. He knew that among these Beasts, to be send one of lower status was a subtle, but clear, insult.
His muscles tightened, but he nodded coldly.
Viktor nodded, exiting and returning a moment later, a shortish, stooped figure shambling on his heels.
"Father, this is..."
But eerie bone-edge sharp eyes peered up into the cleric's, the disconcertingly pink raincoat and tattered, flowered, old dress covering what seemed to be an elderly body.
The voice that emerged was wavering and sharp, high-pitched as a the scream of a dying child.
"Hee...hee...sitting on a throne of ice, are ye, boy?" The laughter was dark and twisted as a festering wound. "Hoping for the power ye don't know, hee? Well, ye're desires, boy, they call to yer betters, they do, oh yes!" A sharp-edged giggle. "Call to us an' we answer, oh yes we do! Heeheehee!"
Andozza, for the first time in years, was completely caught off guard.
One long, bony figure pointed at Viktor.
"Ye may be a fool in many ways, boy, but we can respect at least that ye choose a man drippin' with blood an' torn eyes caught on his fingers, hee!" The figure shambled closer, head turning to curve up to Andozza. "But ye wish our aid, boy? Well, then, let yer temple doors open, and let us barter, yes?"
Andozza's gaze flicked to Viktor, then back to the mad creature before him.
For the first time in his adult life, he felt in need of a bodyguard.
Cold dignity wrapped around Peter Andozza like a cloak.
"We seek to forward our holy cause. Although your - kind - cannot grasp the burden and necessity we face, we must reveal the evil hidden so cunningly..."
The raincoat shifted and laughter emerged, black and cold.
"Boy, ye have no idea of us. If ye did...heehee...t'would be a fine thing to see, oh yes!." A grin spread across the seamed face, like blood across the ground.
"What do you wish, Beast?"
Cackling laughter, the snapping of bones. "Ye wish the end of the policeman, the redhead, aye?'
Still struggling for cool disdain, Andozza nodded.
"We want him. To feed on. To play with." A grin, the white slash of a demon's fangs. "Ye and yours, ye locate he and his, aye? We get him, ye get yer Crusade." A mad giggle at the last word.
"The Beast must fall!" snapped Andozza.
"And fall he will, hee! He must never discover what he is, 'tis best fer us both, boy! But the redhead, that boy - we want him, and if he Falls first, all the better!" The eyes glittered like dying stars. "But after ye oust him, he's ours!"
Andozza considered.
Why not? the former priest thought. It serves God's will.
His and Vikor's eyes met, then he looked back at the warped and gnarled figure before him.
"Agreed."
"Heeee! Until then, boy on the seat of men, be sure we will be watching and listening!" The creature turned to Viktor. "Now, help old Fleshcrawler to the door, there's a good little whelp. I have work to do, I do!"
The bemused Viktor led the macabre visitor out, leaving Andozza behind, ruthlessly casting aside the odd little chill in his stomach.
Ian reappeared only a few inches from Jason, who glanced up at him and grinned.
"Geez, ya give a whole new definition ta the term "spook", boss!"
The slightest nod from the raven-haired man was the closest thing he would show as a smile.
But the sharp emerald eyes focused on the younger man, who shrugged and gave a concise report.
Jerking his chin toward the exhausted - and far more determined - CSIs involved in various tasks and double-checks, he commented, "CSIs're in the loop. Got two of our cops watchin' the incomin' comms, an' of couse, Adryan's team - teams, heh - are ready t' go at a moment's."
"Is the rest of Albion Shade currently active in our investigation?"
"Marc has security ready ta go white, Ali's got the media angle. We're covered, and no need fer the world ta know our business, right?"
Ian nodded, a flicker of humor in his eyes.
"It would be inconvenient."
"Hah! Master of the understatement still, I see!"
Ian changed the subject, a bit amused at his younger friend's antics.
He tapped the blonde man lightly in the center of the chest.
"Until they are better prepared to deal with more, shield my son's family, Jason."
A flicker of affection danced for a moment in Jason's eyes, then he nodded, grinning.
"You know me, boss. Eyes open and ready ta duck."
"Jason!"
The blond grinned, lifting his hands in mock-surrender.
"Okay, eyes AND ears open, and run-and-gun, ready ta duck.."
The raven-haired man could not resist a tiny smile.
"I knew I could depend on you."
Jason grinned, one eyebrow going up.
"I wanna raise."
Calleigh was quick to catch Horatio's trail.
After all, she'd been trained by the best.
Following the shadowed corridors, instinctively believing that the redhead would avoid a path where he could be easily detected.
As she reached the end of the back left corridor, feet almost silent on the smooth floor, she saw a shadow seated on the edge of an unused stage that was clearly in the process of heavy reconstruction.
One knee was pulled to his chest, the other arranged to support his body on the line of stone.
Approaching with as much care as she could, she sat down next to the silent redhead, letting her legs dangle over the side.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Horatio spoke, his voice soft as smoke and fragile as spun glass, yet velvet covering an indomitable will.
"Calleigh."
The soft tones lightly caressed their way across her nerves, drawing a warm shiver.
"Oh, Horatio." She caught his hand, gently rubbing with both of her's to warm it.
And she spoke before he did.
"That was beyond powerful, Horatio. And more than beautiful."
She felt him tense, slightly, though his fingers lightly caressed her palm.
"Why did you leave? Why didn't you ever say anything?" she blurted the last sentence out.
His head turned slightly, his eyes flickering with pale blue flecks.
"Tell you?" His agile mind locked on the tone she used, immediately understanding that this was about more than the dancing.
Catching that sharp gaze, she took a deep breath. "Horatio, I - searched your condo."
If Horatio went any tenser, his bones would likely start to break.
Hurriedly, Calleigh added, "I was frantic. We were all looking, and I had to find you...then a gunman broke in, and Jason and Speed popped up, and everything went by..."
Horatio's hand wrapped tenderly around her's, though his eyes still showed his unease.
"And you..." He stopped, lids closing the unconscious beauty of his eyes.
Determinedly, the blonde gently lifted a hand, cupping Horatio's cheek.
"I didn't mean to invade your privacy, and I won't tell anyone unless you want me to, but - Horatio, you need to know, your work,it's beautiful."
Just like you are, Calleigh thought, fiercely.
When Horatio's velvet and silk voice spoke again, it was quiet, controlled.
"It's an...aberration." There was a terrible sharpness in the last word, and she could almost feel the open wound so terrible in one, simple word.
Calleigh felt a fierce sense of protectiveness flare in her.
What's making him so...uncomfortable? She still couldn't match Horatio and the word afraid.
Much less - ashamed.
"It is NOT an abberation!" Calleigh exploded, furious at whatever had forced him to hide gifts he had every right to be proud of.
It was beyond unfair, that the man she loved - ALL of them loved, in their own unique ways - it was...obscene!
Reaching out, she lightly took his chin and tuned his head to meet his eyes.
Though part of her wanted to pull out her gun, jump back wherever she had met Young Horatio, and shoot the man that had claimed to be his father.
Repeatedly.
With a rifle.
Gently, she caressed the side of the redhead's face, stroking a lock of hair off his forehead.
"I'm sorry." she whispered, hand light on his cheek, feeling the chill starting to warm under her loving touch.
Horatio looked surprised. "For what, Sweetheart?'
Calleigh looked up, seeing the flecks of pale blue strengthening to that loving azure.
"When did you start playing? What did you start with?" The questions were out before she could think.
For a moment he regarded her, then, softly. "I started playing the violin when I was six."
Half admission, half reply.
Wrapping one arm around him, she spoke very gently, aware that something - or someone - had driven Horatio to hide parts of himself, as if he'd committed some terrible crime.
As if he had reason to be - ashamed.
Still lightly caressing his cheek, she spoke with infinite tenderness. "I'd love to hear you play."
Horatio cocked his head, as if analyzing something, then gently gathered Calleigh into his embrace, stroking her hair as she settled against his chest.
After a few moments, that velvet-and-smoke voice wrapped around her like a silken blanket, warm and soothing.
Quietly, he said, "I started art and music in kindergarten."
Puzzled, she looked up into those azure depths. "So you were - what - five, six?"
A long hesitation, then, "When I was five I was transferred to fourth grade."
For a long moment, Calleigh stared up into his eyes, then graced him with a brilliant smile.
Green eyes sparkling, she returned, "So, you're even more special than I thought!"
Horatio looked faintly uncomfortable, but only shrugged silently.
For a long moment she stared into those striking eyes, those eyes that had haunted her dreams, eyes she could always trust implicitly - eyes that were mesmerizing.
Calleigh nestled against his chest a moment, enjoying the warmth and love that she could almost see it was so strong, so vivid, so - real.
"Horatio." Her voice was very tender then, as a contented warmth began to glow in her heart. "I want to ask you something, and I want you to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. Okay?"
A silent nod was her reply.
"Will you trust me, just us, together?"
That engaging tilt of his head was clearly startled, not wanting to read anything into the question, a physical gesture of respect and restraint.
And restraint was the last thing on Calleigh's mind.
She smiled at him, and decided to be more clear.
"I'm sure we could find somewhere to have some privacy, don't you, Handsome?"
To her amusement, his ears began to turn a charming, warm pink.
Horatio Caine, blushing? She had to fight down a huge smile. Well, that means two things. One, he's considered it, and two, I think I just got an answer.
For a moment, Horatio regarded her with the most unusual expression on his handsome face.
It was only a split second, but Calleigh caught it.
He looked almost shy.
"If...you want that, Calleigh. If you're...sure..."
Oh, to Hell with it! She was secretly delighted at the chance to seduce Horatio, as he had seduced her heart unconsciously only a few days after they met.
Using both hands, one on each side of his face, she pulled him down for a very thorough kiss, full of promise.
Horatio's embrace tightened a tiny bit, and she could tell he was making sure to not hold her so tightly he caused her discomfort.
"Come on, Horatio. We can call Eric from the Hummer." She couldn't help it, she was so happy that she was taking great delight in teasing the redhead.
Horatio met her gaze then helped her to her feet.
A boom of thunder nearly shook the building.
Horatio opened his mouth, clearly intending to ensure she didn't have to get drenched, but she grabbed his hand and started off through the main door, all but hauling the bemused redhead after her.
"No you don't, mister! I don't care if we get caught in the midst of a tsunami, we are going to find a nice, private place and live on room service a few days!"
"This case..." began Horatio again.
"You could take six months off, Horatio Caine, and be paid for ever damn day!" They had reached the door, and Horatio opened it, glancing out to see a sheet of rain pouring down and whispering promises on the pavement.
Horatio slid out of his jacket, spread it over her head - and Calleigh couldn't help but notice that the man could be so unconsciously sensual as to make it impossible to look away - and took her hand, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Ready, Sweetheart?'
Calleigh's reply was a saucy toss of her blonde hair.
"Bring it on, Lieutenant!"
"One..." Horatio began.
"Two..." Calleigh joined in, delighted with this silly game.
"Three!" They said, together.
The pair dashed for the Hummer, Horatio clicking the unlock on his keychain as they moved.
Almost simultaneously, they dove in the doors, and sat there for a moment, dripping on state property as Horatio started the engine and turned on the heater.
Calleigh was laughing like a child, fighting down a fit of giggles at the sight of Horatio, t-shirt and jeans plastered to hia lithe frame, red hair drenched, and fastening the ever-elusive seatbelt around her body.
"Handsome, how is it you always get to drive?" Her green eyes were sparkling with helpless glee.
Completely calm and (she still called it regal) collected now, he lifted his eyebrows and replied, completely deadpan, "Rank has it's privileges."
Calliegh was collapsed in laughter a moment later, as she reached for her cell, as rain fell like tears of joy.
Ryan, Natalia, and Walter left the Trace Lab in the care of Ian (Jason seemed FAR too "enthusiastic" around breakables, and budget was tight enough as it is) and trooped toward Larry Oakland's office.
After a knock gained them admittance, Ryan whispered, "Wow, look at this place!"
Larry Oakland looked up from his book, grinned a greeting, and put his reading down, creating a paper-slide as sheets flew off the edge of his desk.
"Any news?' he asked, shoving his wire-frame glasses up on his nose.
Somehow, though, the area was "homey". Comfortable.
And a complete, disorganized mess.
Ryan felt his hands start to itch with the desire to clean the area, snarled mentally at his OCD, and spoke.
"We have two temps helping us, but Walter checked, and one has really high security clearance..."
Larry blinked, tugged absently on his collar - accidentally sending his horribly clashing neon-blue tie flying - and nodded.
Unlike Horatio's neat utilitarianism, the room was a riot of books and DVDs, and dominated by what looked like a VERY high end Bose speakers, currently blaring what sounded like classical music.
"Inspector Caine I was able to find information on, but not - ah -" he paused, looking up at the ceiling, just as Max came in, Thunder following on silent paws. He nodded to his fellow CSIs, and gestured.
The huge dog promptly lay down next to the DVD-littered couch, using his paws and nose to push things comfortably out of the way.
As the DVD-pile shifted ominously, Max's hand shot out, shoving the tottering tower back against the wall absently.
"Larry, you know one of these days you're going to trip and fall flat on your face at this rate." Max simply picked up a chair, dumped everything out of it, and offered it to a grateful Natalia.
"Hmmm...what? Oh. Yes. Surely. But it won't be the first time, my boy." The Supervisor blinked a couple of times, remembered his last point, and continued as if he had never stopped.
"Young Mister Simmons has let me know that we can't find anything at all on this Mister Savage..."
Jason chose that moment to drop out of the overhead vent, landing neatly outside the door and startling the whole group.
"Ooooo! Does that mean that I'm gonna go POOF! and disappear?" He grinned evilly. "That might be kinda cool...:"
Max simply rolled his eyes to heaven and muttered something, receiving a whallop when the blonde man spread his arms with enthusiastic energy and commented, "Hey, well, ya need the help, so don't get yer undies in a twist."
Larry blinked, then said, "Well, I got a call from the Pentagon about you, Mister Savage."
Jason snorted. "Blabbermouths."
"But your security clearance was confirmed...though the only other information I received was your name - Jason F. C. Savage - and encouragement to hire you." He considered a moment, resting his chin on his hand. "Hmmm. I wonder..."
Jason bounced on his toes, sing-songing, "I-know-something-you-don't-know, I-know-something-you-don't-know...!"
Ryan looked at Natalia, and uttered a theatrical sigh. "Gonna be a long day." he said, wryly.
Natalia nodded, looked at Walter, smothered a smile, and shrugged helplessly.
At least they wouldn't be bored - or asleep.
After receiving Calleigh's call - and a promise to pay him back for a cab - Eric felt a curious lightness in his heart.
He had feared he might be carrying around residual jealousy, but he felt none at all.
Smiling to himself as the cab headed into the Lab parking lot, he slid from the back, and paid the driver, passing him a good tip.
Hurrying back into the Lab, past the receptionist desk, and nearly ran over Yalina as she emerged from the the Atrium.
Backpedalling, the young CSI smiled an absent greeting.
"Eric, have you seen Horatio?" she asked, dark eyes bright.
Something about her look sparked a sense of unease in Eric, but he answered with a limited truth.
"Not for a while." He regarded her curiously. The last he'd heard, she had moved, and Horatio rarely spoke of her.
Blinking to clear his weary mind, he asked, "Ummm...how's Ray Jr.?"
Why am I changing the subject? he thought to himself, feeling that unease growing.
That feeling was why.
"Accepted into Miami-Dade College, for Criminal Justice." she smiled at the young Cuban, obviously pleased to speak about her son. "He wanted to be a police officer, just like his Horatio and his father."
Horatio's nephew. Eric's mind reported.
"I can give him a message." offered the young man, as something made him reluctant to speak of the love that had finally been mutually declared between Horatio and Calleigh.
Yalina sighed, shaking her head. "Tell him we should talk, all right?" She looked enthusiastic, and as she left, he noticed a distinct spring in her step.
Only one phrase went through Eric's mind.
Oh, damn it!
Calleigh was startled when Horatio pulled the Hummer into the parking lot of Eden Roc Hotel.
One of the finest hotels in all Miami, and he was bringing her here?
Her heart sped up at the fact that he was willing to pay for even ONE night in this place - saying it was exorbitant was an understatement.
But he opened the door and they made their way to the door, arm in arm, Calleigh was impressed with the comfortable, tasteful decor.
The floors were a faintly blue-tinted grey, and instead of ornate furniture, the pieces were obviously comfortable without being gaudy, the color themes of soft tan and burgundy welcomed as if a visitor was a member of nobility returning home.
There were no televisions. Instead, rows of leather-bound books lined the shelves - and a casual glance revealed one of them was a book of World Folk Tales, another of Chaucer, and still another by Shakespeare.
At the desk Horatio and the middle-aged man at the counter were clearly involved in a disagreement.
Turning, she regarded the man with a protective, proud lift of her head.
But the man - a comfortably blocky fellow with ruddy cheeks, friendly dark green eyes, and clad in a uniform that actually looked comfortable, was regarding Horatio with fond of exasperation.
Looking over at Calleigh, the man threw up his arms in frustration.
"Ah, Jūs priežasties su juo, mano panele! He will drive me mad! Such stubbornness!" The voice had a thick East European accent.
Horatio shook his head determinedly, saying, "Tai teisinga tik ir ponia nusipelno geriausias. Aš ne pasinaudoti, Leonas."
Calleigh stared at the redhead, who regarded the older man steadily.
"Horatio!" The frustrated manager all but stomped his foot. "I will NOT charge a man who..."
The redhead regarded the other man sharply.
Leonas turned to Calleigh, and passed her the key. "You take him along. A more generous man I have never met, but even for him to stay here will be a delight to my family." He actually reached over the counter and lightly smacked Horatio's shoulder. "And finally, not in a suit! Go along now, and enjoy yourself. I will have Cook get a nice meal started," he glanced over at Calleigh and smiled. "Just call when you wish some food, NO, Horatio, I will not take your money!" He made shooing motions. "Go, my friend! And remember, this is NOT work!" The genial man looked over at the young blonde woman. "Never does he take a break!"
Calleigh took Horatio's forearm lightly, and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "Come on, Handsome. Let's start that break."
After everyone shared what they knew, Larry ordered them to take breaks - two people at a time, and rotate the shift personnel.
Luckily, there hadn't been more murders than techs, Tom, and temporary part-timers could handle.
After Natalia and Walter left, Max had taken Thunder out for a quick walk and a "snack", Jason had disappeared, and Ryan paused, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"Zach told me there was some trouble, that somebody from IAB was trying to get you fired. Was that Stetler?" Ryan all but spat the former Lieutenant's name.
Larry blinked, considered. and while rummaging around on his desk, tossing papers left and right in a kind of deranged whirlwind.
"Oh, that. It was a while back, lad, and it isn't a problem with IAB anymore." He found a card, stared at it without recognition for a few seconds, then tossed it on the corner of the desk.
The younger CSI hesitated a moment, then asked, "He's not bothering you?"
It wasn't like Stetler to let up if he had a chance to badger a (real) cop.
"Oh my no." Larry looked up with a faint grin. "After he was reinstated, no-one would accept him being allowed anything beyond patrol officer, and there was quite the fracas. Marshall wouldn't give an inch, Horatio - bless him - refused to get involved, and I hear SWAT threatened that "accident's happen". In the end, we all voted to allow him back, but he could never progress beyond Detective Second Grade." Something else distracted him a moment, then he looked back at Ryan. "My, but his father was outraged. But, you see, Commissioner Stetler couldn't get any support and had to agree to our terms." He found a CD, stared at it a moment, and muttered, "Now what is this? Bother."
Despite himself, Ryan found himself liking the other man. He had a certain odd charm to him.
"So that was it?"
"Oh, a few rumbles here and there." He shrugged his shoulders again, his nose once more buried in a book.
As Ryan turned to leave, Larry looked up. "Oh! One little thing, I suppose it might be a problem if that kind of thing bothers you."
The young CSI was puzzled.
"What's that?"
Not looking up, Larry replied, "I'm gay."
Calleigh was achingly aware of Horatio's presence as they approached the door of their room - years of hoping did not compare to the reality of this.
Nervous, hopeful, buoyant, she couldn't deny the truth.
She hoped this would go further than she had ever dared dream of.
Outside, the sound of thunder echoed, muffled by the marble walls.
Horatio paused behind her, and she turned to look up, noting the unreadable look in those sapphire eyes.
Intense, thoughtful, concerned - all of those emotions were merged into his gaze.
"If…this makes you uncomfortable, Calleigh, I want you to know - I understand." His voice was velvet and whiskey, but full of sincerity.
She realized that he had stopped, that the key was now in her hand.
It was clear he wanted her to be comfortable, sure of this step - to allow her to choose without demands.
The thought of him in another room, them separated by physical walls after the slow, difficult beginnings of him letting down his internal ones - it was more than she could bear.
And she knew, seeing the shimmer of azure in his eyes, that the man she had loved so long, wanted so much, was almost - afraid.
But one more night separated from Horatio, one more hour knowing he was alone, protecting her with his natural selflessness, was unbearable.
Unendurable.
Turning half toward the door, the petite blonde pressed the key into the lock and turned it, turning back to meet his gaze.
With a warm smile, bright and encouraging, she offered her hand, palm up, an invitation.
A promise.
His gaze warmed, that stunning azure shade sparking in his eyes, but shadows danced over his face, giving him a faintly tentative, almost shy mien.
But he reached out to her.
And took her hand.
Jason had a pair of earphones on and was all but bouncing around the Lab - taking samples, running slides, and filling out paperwork (alabit with a disgusted look).
Eric came in, stared at the whirlwind that was Jason a moment, then turned to Natalia.
"What the..."
"Relájese, amigo. Yo sé lo que estoy haciendo!"
Eric's expression was doubtful, but just then Speed came in the door, eyed the blond man, then looked up at his best friend and the other CSIs.
"Don't tell me." Speed's voice as as sardonic as ever. "Temps."
"Horatio isn't back yet." Jason commented, not looking up from his microscope.
"You should be grateful." Speed shot back.
"Hey, bro - we're gonna rock CSI!"
Speed looked over at Eric, and smiled laconically. "Kinda like an earthquake."
Inside, the light was slightly muted, gentle, as Calleigh entered, Horatio a few steps behind her, closing the door behind them.
The blonde turned and looked up into the azure and flickers of cobalt intense in the redhead's eyes.
She shivered as a flicker of warmth danced seductively up her spine, flickers of anticipation flashing along her body.
Horatio stepped one pace forward, running the back of his fingertips softly down her cheek. His eyes were gentle, tender - brilliant with an inner light.
So - real.
Normally, there was that instant of unease, a moment where Calleigh felt uncomfortable and even a little uneasy, in the arms of a man.
Not now.
His hand slipped under her chin, tilting her head back with a loving caress.
Everything - stopped.
She should note the environment, hear the faint hum of the air conditioner, be aware of the bed behind them.
But all she felt, all she knew, was the light touch of gentle, sensitive hands.
And it was a natural, easy - safe.
With intensity marked by tender care, Horatio's lips touched hers.
Sparks danced lightly along her skin, a comfortable warming that drew her closer into the kiss, barely even aware of the oxygen that seemed to vanish from her lungs.
When they separated - mostly due to oxygen depletion - Calleigh felt that powerful connection they had shared for so long become a brilliant, warm glow.
She didn't even need to think or plan.
His arms came up around her, and she pressed against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat even while the sparks became tingles along her body.
Horatio gently held her close, her head tucked under his chin, a vivid presence that almost seemed to wrap around her in gentle comfort.
Calleigh found herself leaning into his embrace. relaxing against his warmth, enjoying the steady beat of his heart under her ear.
For a moment, they simply stood there - together - in one precious moment, in one another's arms.
She inhaled, almost tasting his unique scent.
The warm spice of cinnamon.
The sharp tang of hickory.
The unique spark of licorice.
The warm sweetness of honey.
She knew that the redhead didn't wear cologne or anything with a scent, aware that it could impair - even slightly - his sense of smell.
It was a natural, unaffected scent that was uniquely - Horatio.
Shivering with the warm sparks of heat dancing over her skin, she whispered softly, "That scent, Handsome. You could bottle it and make a fortune!"
A rich chuckle was her reply.
"I have everything I need right here." The velvet tones were low, but set off ripples of rising warmth through Calleigh's body.
His fingers lightly combed through her hair in a gently intimate gesture.
"Horatio…." Her voice slid into a whisper, and she felt warm tears on her cheeks - and didn't care.
Sensitive fingertips caressed the droplets away, and Calleigh looked up into blue eyes flickering and dancing with every shade of blue.
A look of concern crossed his features as he lightly touched her face.
"I…." The start of Horatio's sentence was lost forever when the petite blonde stood on tiptoe, kissing him lovingly, enjoying the spicy-sweet taste of him.
"I'm just happy." And she dipped into the depths of her feelings, Calleigh completed, "You make me happy."
His reply was a faint, warm smile. "You've always been a joy to me, Sweetheart." he murmured, a tang of whiskey entering his velvet tones
Calleigh gave a surprised little gasp when she was suddenly lifted into the security of warm, strong arms.
Despite herself, the blonde had to smile brilliantly at him, enjoying the soft caressing fire of slow seduction.
For a moment, Horatio held Calleigh closer to him, her body close to his, for a moment enjoying the simple pleasure of her warmth suffusing his chest, spreading with silken tendrils along his body.
Then, with slow tenderness, lowered the blonde woman onto the ivory sheets.
Intense sapphire eyes met welcoming green ones.
No words were exchanged as he sat cautiously down next to her, only the faintest press of the mattress marking his body's weight.
Again he drew her into the cradle of his arms, but this time his hands brushed softly against her skin, fingertips mapping her beautiful face.
Faintly, she felt the soft pressure, noticing the faintest difference in texture between his fingertips - the lightest difference showing the use his agile, sensitive hands were beginning to show.
His music. The thought was enticingly vague, blurred by the warmth of tender love that wrapped so powerfully around her heart. His fingertips - violin, guitar…
Memories of his unique musical creations that spoke so strongly to the very soul flickered joyously through her as his touch became warmly intimate.
Enjoying the tender warmth his caresses coaxed to the surface, she nonetheless was aware that though his hands showed his faintly tense suppleness of youth, his touch was of a sensitive and self-aware adult man.
With a crackling thrill, Calleigh realized suddenly, with a glow of dawning joy, that now, this night, this moment, Horatio Caine was not a fifty-five year old man and survivor of the loss of two wives, but his body was that of an innocent.
Though chronologically he bore more than five decades, an innately - powerful - man's intensity and warm passion, his body was of a very young man.
A very young, untouched, innocent man.
There was one, brief instant she felt a surge of gratitude for the still-mysterious phenomenon that had now showed her the true physical nature of the man she loved.
It had granted her a priceless gift - the chance for her to be with with Horatio, as his body learned anew what the love of the body only granted at the moment that first instant of knowing physical joy.
To push aside the memory of the first woman he had touched with this beautiful, wondering tenderness, his first wife.
Who had so casually cast aside this most precious of gifts.
In a very subtle way, she could give him a second chance.
To build new, and she was certain, beautiful, memories.
Because, for the first time in either of their lives, this wasn't an offer of a mere physical act, or even a gesture of simple warmth and comfort.
This was their chance to truly share themselves with one another.
Because Calleigh Dusquene had no intention of squandering this one, priceless chance.
This night, from this moment forward. she was going to make love with Horatio Caine.
Not to.
Not an act of one taking from another.
No.
This time, this was going to be a shared gift of one another, a chance to learn one another's desires, to grant one another a piece of themselves that could never be retracted, never cast off.
She didn't know quite how she knew, in this one, instant of awareness, nor did she care, but for this one night, the suffering of Horatio Caine was going to be thrown off.
It was a gift he had never had, not even with Marisol.
Though she knew he had loved her with the depth and completeness only he was capable of, he had known in his heart their time was limited.
He had loved her and been there, caring for her, even after the horrible day she died so tragically.
But he had known, very painfully, of impending loss, and held that pain in a shattered and torn heart for a hellish time.
I'll love him enough for both of us, Calleigh thought, somewhat disjointedly. I'll love him with everything I have.
Again, she didn't know how, but she could swear she heard a soft, silken whisper on the soft caress of the room's muted wind.
Take care of him for me, Calleigh. Let him love you. And - love him. Because with him, with Horatio, love is everything. Love is forever.
Calleigh reached out slowly, gently, and caught one of his gently exploring hands, limited to the skin her unneeded clothing revealed.
Caressing the back of his hand, then, lightly, his palm, she spoke softly, from the deepest, no-longer-hidden recesses of her soul.
"Let me." It was a soft, loving, even faintly awed pair of words.
Eyes so blue the sky might envy them, and so deep the ocean could not dream, met her's, watching her, loving her.
She felt tears in her eyes at this love, this completeness, he offered her.
"Calleigh?" The velvet and smoke had a sweetness in it she had never heard. Her name, his voice, was a gift she could never let go.
Wordlessly, her hand moving to touch the face - still that beloved face, that defied age or body - fingertips caressing over soft, warm lips.
"Shh." It was soft, but not a tone of pity or censure.
She gently drew him down to her, enjoying the pressure of his lean frame against her, breathing, alive - and so vividly real.
His skin was surprisingly soft, save the scars that marred the fair surface, almost silken to her touch.
And he was warm, as her hands caressed gently down his chest to his abdomen, enjoying the feel of taut muscle moving under her hands as he breathed.
Both her hands came down to his shirt, helping him slide it smoothly over his chest and shoulders.
Warmth and reality, sensitivity and strength, she lovingly explored the breadth of his chest, gently smoothing the skin with her fingertips, taking a simple, loving joy in the faintest, sharp intake of breath from him.
One hand lightly caressing, almost stroking the fair skin, smiling inwardly at the faint dusting of freckles on his shoulders, she brought her lips to the scar on his shoulder.
It tasted less of honey, more of hickory.
A memory of hurt, of pain, that brought a surge of intense, protective love.
This night could never be cheap.
Horatio had paid the price for this chance with blood, tears, and agonizing loss.
And Calleigh resolved through the warmth, the brilliance, of the man who let down his barriers and let her in, that from this instant on, he would never again be left behind, never again be alone.
Drawing back, she traced the torn mark lightly with one careful finger, feeling the contrasting textures of the satin of skin and roughened velvet of the closed wound.
She was aware of what he offered her, as they found simple pleasure in each other's touch for a time, then she felt light, gentle hands slide down her cheek, down the nape of her neck, then to the open button of her shirt.
Her eyes were the green of storm-tossed seas as he paused, eyes darkened to a stunning indigo. Taking her right hand, he threaded his fingers through hers, then brought their joined hands to his chest, over the beat of his warm and loving heart.
Touch me, see me.
The message was so clear it was almost audible.
She knew what he offered her.
Total trust.
Complete vulnerability.
Love.
The next moments were spent in mutual caresses, hands sliding down to divest one another, cooperatively, of the annoyance of unneeded clothing.
His kiss was feather-soft and light against her neck, just above the point her life-blood pulsed.
Warm lightning crackled through her entire body when the damp, smooth caress of his tongue as he memorized her taste.
Her fingers threaded through the soft flame of his silken hair, stroking lightly and delighting in the contrasts of silky hair and satiny skin.
The pleasure was a warm, soft glow that began where his lips touched, as she gave over - with delight, not demand - control to him.
It wasn't a cheap thing, offered up to simply submit to dominance by a male.
It was something pure and beautiful, as the soft trail of warmth slid with loving care down her throat, to the juncture of her neck.
His hands were moving slowly along her shoulder, spreading tender warmth with the touch of a true artist.
That picture he drew of me. The thoughts were warm and comfortable, a soothing blurriness to them. His hands see me the same way.
The light pressure of his lips drew warmth from beneath her skin, from deep within her eager body.
Horatio was gentle, caressing, and Calleigh pulled him closer, craving the warmth of him, his weight pressed against her body.
The light touch was accompanied with loving kisses, the feather-soft brush of his lips more arousing than the hard demands of most intimate encounters she had experienced.
He was warn and solid against her, his fingertips tightening around her hand.
The warmth exploded to the surface, coiling delightfully up from her abdomen and setting her nerves ablaze.
She pulled him tight against her, uttering something between a gasp and a moan.
Her hands stroked the warm skin, gentle against the scars, exploring every inch of his back and downwards, unable to let him go as the warmth built in her.
"Calleigh." It velvet and smoke, drawing her in and wrapping around the petite blonde as his touch released such powerful desire it built into an almost frantic need.
"H-Horatio..." She was in his arms, loved and safe and her nerves tingling joyously.
A light touch and she felt the slightest shift of her - lover!, her whirling mind sang joyously - weight.
She felt the pleasure of being a part of him, and he of her, and every cell, every nerve, every part of her, exploded with exquisite pleasure as for that perfect she was no longer alone, but part.
Part of them, together.
Calleigh clung to him, mostly to avoid being flung from the stratosphere and into orbit, and he held her tight to him.
They were both locked in one another's orbit, free-falling together as everything was cast aside but shared ecstasy.
After what seemed eternity, she started to come down from the incredible high, finding herself still safely in Horatio's embrace, his fingertips caressing in a soothing gesture.
She didn't want to ever be apart from him again, and she saw the same desire in his almost-glowing azure gaze.
But he was gently caring as they separated, and she felt the soft brush of his lips against her's.
Calleigh found her head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrapped around her, and completely relaxed, floating in warm completeness.
Every muscle felt loose, and she found that she had absolutely no desire to move.
Glancing up, she caressed the side of his face, and he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips and then rethreading their fingers.
It was a precious, powerful moment where speech was completely unnecessary.
Cuddling close to the warm body of Horatio, she closed her eyes, drifting on the edge of sleep, eyes closed and a sleepy, contented smile on her beautiful face.
One thing she had to say, had to, before she let herself relax completely into that peaceful warmth.
That deep, rich, velvety voice murmured, "I love you, Calleigh."
Words more precious than diamonds, and warmer than the center of the sun.
"I love you, Horatio." More than a whisper, less than regular volume, but full of honesty and hope and total love. "Forever."
Horatio shifted slightly, wrapping the blanket around them both.
"Forever." he agreed, his voice soft but sincere.
He lightly stroked her back, and she began to slide down into sleep.
His caress was an addiction now, a touch she would crave until the day she died.
And she enjoyed every moment of it.
Her last thought before peaceful, warm sleep claimed her was something she would always have at the back of her mind, from this moment onwards.
Touch me, Horatio. See me.
LITHUANIAN
"Ah, Jūs priežasties su juo, mano panele!" - "Ah, you reason with him, my lady!"
"Tai teisinga tik ir ponia nusipelno geriausias. Aš ne pasinaudoti, Leonas." - "It is only fair, and the lady deserves the best. I will not take advantage, Leonas."
SPANISH
"Relájese, amigo. Yo sé lo que estoy haciendo!" - "Relax, friend. I know what I am doing!"