Time seemed to move at a torturous pace as Jeff sat with his head in his hands in the hospital waiting area. After extricating himself from the police officers at the scene, he'd been able to ride in the ambulance with Sally, holding onto her hand while simultaneously trying to keep out of the way of the paramedic tending to her.

He remembered asking the female medic if Sally would be ok, his voice cracking at the thought that she might not be. The brown-haired woman had given him a strained grimace, telling him nothing more than that they needed to get their patient to the ER to be assessed properly by the doctors there.

He'd held onto her hand for dear life, praying she would open her eyes and look at him, even for just a moment. His prayers had been answered as the ambulance neared Dade Memorial, Sally groaned weakly and opened the eye that hadn't been swollen shut.

"Sally, it's Jeff. You're on the way to the hospital but you're going to be fine, ok?"

Her hand had instantly tightened its grip on his own as panic began to set in. Monitors began to beep with increased frequency as she became increasingly distressed.

Her free hand shot out suddenly. She held it up, fending off some imaginary attacker while begging for mercy.

"Please….don't…I'm sorry…."

Ignoring the pointed look from the paramedic, he had leaned over Sally, carefully tucking a strand of hair off her forehead. "Just relax, Sally. Everything's going to be fine."

His words seemed to have an effect on her as she calmed considerably upon hearing his voice. Letting out a breath of his own, he saw her physically relax a little.

"He's not here?" she slurred, her head slumped to one side.

The paramedic checked the response of her pupils before giving him a small smile, telling him that Sally was stable but had passed out.

Not long after that, the ambulance had screeched to a halt. He followed the gurney as far as he was able before he found his path blocked by a heavy-set male nurse. He'd been instructed in no uncertain terms to wait outside and let the medical professionals do their job.

That had been three hours ago. Not one person had been out to see him or give an update on Sally's condition. His urge to barge his way into the exam room that held her was increasing with every minute that passed.

"Jeff, honey. What are you doing here?"

It was a voice he recognised. A voice that always managed to put him at ease, no matter the situation.

He lifted his weary head to look at her, struggling to string a sentence together as the events of the last three hours finally took their toll on him.

"Alexx…uh…I…."

She sat down next to him, placing a warm hand over one of his own, squeezing it gently, concern evident in her voice as she spoke.

"Honey…..is it Martha?"

He shook his head, feeling the tremors flow through his hands.

"What's happened? You're sitting here, shaking like a leaf. Are you hurt?"

Alexx had slipped from role of concerned friend to professional doctor within seconds. Gently taking hold of his face, she turned him to look her in the eyes, checking the response of his pupils, assessing any injuries that might have been visible.

Reaching up a hand to stop her, he pulled his head away.

"I'm fine. It's…uh…..it's Sally."

"The girl who works your reception?"

He nodded his head, looking away once more.

"I found her at her apartment….she's been attacked, Alexx. I've been sitting here for hours and no one has told me anything. Christ, I don't even know if she's still alive."

He felt her hand on his thigh as she gave it a firm squeeze.

"Let me go and see what I can find out, ok?"

He nodded again, wringing tense hands together. Unable to do anything but sit and wait.

Calleigh had promised herself that she would make her way to the hospital straight away as she sought to make earlier transgressions right. Yet halfway between the crime scene and the hospital, she'd chickened out. Turning off the highway, she'd spent the last hour or so sitting in her Hummer, trying to figure out just how the hell her life had become such a mess.

As far as the rest of the team were aware, she was at Dade Memorial, gathering more evidence on Sally's attack. The reality of the situation was that she'd been hiding away, looking for somewhere private to lick her wounds.

Not so different from Horatio, are you?

She'd been unnerved by the way the doctor had looked at her when she arrived on scene and had allowed it to cloud her judgement and subsequent treatment of him. Being a psychologist, he had likely seen through her pale attempts at professionalism and knew the real reason why she was being so harsh with him.

Jealousy is such an ugly colour on you.

There was no point denying the truth. She was jealous that this man had a hold on Horatio and perhaps held more sway when it came to her lover making decisions for himself. For so long, she had been consumed with thoughts of Horatio. She had become accustomed to having him to herself, and like a petty child, she did not want to share him.

But what did that say about her, about her relationship with the man she loved?

Horatio's leaving had taught her that it was time to step aside, that she could no longer be the be all and end all of his life. With her selfish desire to keep him all to herself she would be no better than his ex-wife, placing unreasonable demands on him.

It was not humanly possible to fulfill all of his needs, no matter how much she might wish she could. But their relationship had been so insular for so long that she found it hard to let go of the ties binding her lover to her. Her suffocating need to keep Horatio to herself had pushed him away as she slowly came to realise that if she could not learn to only have claim to a part of him that she would lose him completely.

Better to have a piece of him than nothing at all.

Laughing at herself, she realised her own words were cold comfort. Using logic and being rational would not keep her warm at night. Being sensible would not fill the void Horatio's leaving had left in her heart.

How she envied the unfeeling nature of the human mind. The brain could deal with any given situation, soaking up the information gleaned for use at a later time. Yet the heart felt, and felt deeply. Whereas the mind constantly increased a person's knowledge, when the heart was hurt it did nothing but bleed pure raw emotion

Hearing the chatter over the radio system, she turned the key in the ignition. Once back on the highway, she made her way to the hospital, hoping it would be her head that did the talking this time.

Eric Delko followed Frank into the opulent building housing Sante Costa's real estate business. From the neatly trimmed lawns, to the tacky ornamental features surrounding the parking lot, it was clear to see that the whole place stank of wealth and greed.

Many of the cars in the lot were high-end vehicles, the kind most folks could only dream of owning. BMWs, Jags, and Rolls Royce's were dotted all over the area, while the lesser employees made do with the far end of the parking lot with their Fords and Hyundai's, shoved into the corner like some kind of shameful secret.

The sheer stink of arrogance surrounding the building immediately set Frank's teeth on edge. Letting out a disgusted breath, he pushed open the gold-trimmed lobby door and made his way inside, paying little attention to Eric or bothering to hold the door open for him.

"Don't mind me," the younger man muttered under his breath, catching the door with his left hand before it smacked him in the face.

The lobby was just as bad as the parking lot as far as Frank was concerned. The large room was covered in massive paintings with thick gold frames. In fact, everything within sight seemed to have been touched by Goldfinger himself. The extreme use of the precious metal made the place feel tacky and overdone and a part of him considered the idea that perhaps the presence of the shining metal was only for show.

He considered asking Eric to do whatever it was that scientist-types did, to test the metal to see if it was genuine or not. It was a thought that had some merit to it, Costa Real Estate and the building that housed it somehow seemed fake, as if things were not quite as they initially seemed.

Walking up to the gold-trimmed front desk, Frank flashed his badge and credentials. "We're here about the death of Sante Costa. Is there someone in charge we can talk to?"

The smartly-dressed receptionist looked at him, all professional demeanour and class. If she'd been affected by the death of her boss then she didn't outwardly show it. With her dark tied-back hair and tortoiseshell glasses, the woman looked eerily like the IAB witch he'd had a run in with a few weeks ago.

The thought that the icy Hillary Craig could have a twin or sister caused a shudder to flow through his body. One Craig bitch was definitely enough as far as he was concerned. The possibility that there was another woman sharing the same gene pool as her was a thought he found hard to stomach.

"May I see your credentials again, Detective…"

"Tripp," he answered tersely, flipping his ID out again, tucking it back into the breast pocket of his jacket roughly.

Hearing Eric saunter up behind him, he flashed him a brief look before returning his attention to the receptionist, a woman who seemed intent on doing her job as fastidiously as possible.

"Remind you of anyone?" he muttered to his colleague, causing Eric to give him a wry grin in response.

"Mr Daniels should be available to speak to you. Let me just see if I can get through to his office."

"How kind," Frank retorted, unable to keep the biting sarcasm from his voice.

The woman before him merely gave him a narrowed stare before typing a number into the huge phone system at her side. He watched as the meticulously manicured fingers did their work, pressing numbers in the most graceful fashion he'd ever seen. This was a woman who clearly looked after her appearance. Upon closer inspection he could find no blemishes or marks on her beautiful porcelain skin to speak of.

Placing the receiver back in its cradle, the receptionist gave Frank an icy look. "Make your way up to the seventh floor. There are elevators at the end of the lobby, on the left hand side. Mr Daniel's office is the third on the left." Her tone was cold and dismissive as she lowered her gaze and started at something intently on her computer screen.

"No wonder you've been divorced three times," Eric smirked as they made their way to the far end of the lobby. "You sure know how to treat the ladies."

"Shut up, Delko."

He must have relaxed back into the cold and uncomfortable plastic chair at some point, as he heard Alexx's soft voice rousing him from some sort of wearied slumber.

"Jeff, honey…."

Cracking open an eye, he pulled himself upright and ran a hand over his face, forcing himself to wake up completely.

"Is she ok?" he asked quickly, scrambling to get to his feet to see Sally.

He found himself stopped by a strong grip on his arm.

"I've just spoken with the doctor in charge of her care. If you sit down, I'll tell you how she's doing."

The words held a hint of exasperation as his friend gave him a pointed look.

"It looks like Sally was attacked and beaten quite badly….but then you know that already."

Jeff said nothing except to squeeze his eyes shut, suddenly not all that sure he wanted to hear the extent of Sally's injuries.

"They've done some x-rays and scans…she's got a fractured skull, some broken ribs and plenty of cuts and bruises."

"Will she be ok?" he asked, his eyes still screwed shut, imagining the brutality Sally must have suffered to gain injuries like that.

"They're keeping an eye on the fracture site, Sally might have some swelling on the brain over the next few days so it's important that we keep her in the ICU for now."

"Will she recover?"

He felt Alexx tense beside him, instantly knowing there was something she was keeping from him.

"Alexx, what is it?"

How on earth could she figure out a way to tell him what had happened to Sally without breaking his heart? She'd known Jeff had always had a soft spot for Sally Keats and often spoke of her progress with a great deal of pride. With Sally's parents deceased, Jeff had taken on the role of kindly uncle - perhaps not the wisest choice when one was still dealing with said client on a professional basis.

"You know that in cases such as these…we're required to run a sexual assault kit."

"She's been raped. I know…I guessed by the state of her clothes when I found her."

"Then you know that she's going to need a great deal of support to get through this. Are you sure you're able to do that?"

He looked at her, clearly puzzled by the question. What exactly was Alexx trying to insinuate?

"You're close to her, Jeff. Perhaps too close to help her this time."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You need to decide whether you want to be her doctor or her friend. In this situation….you can't be both."

"You sound like Christina," he muttered under his breath, but not so low that Alexx couldn't to hear him.

He found himself saved from a tart response by the presence of another woman walking into the waiting area, one that he recognised as being the police officer who'd given him short shrift at Sally's apartment earlier. The way Alexx suddenly tensed didn't pass him by either.

The two women looked at each other awkwardly as Alexx made to stand. "Calleigh."

"Alexx," the blonde woman replied.

Suddenly, both sets of eyes were on him. He found himself feeling distinctly uncomfortable at their intense gazes.

"They're transferring Sally to the ICU shortly. Give them half an hour or so and they should let you in to see her."

He nodded his thanks, watching Alexx leave the waiting area, giving the other woman a curt nod of the head as she passed.

"Dr Pearce, can I sit down?"

There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice, something that was completely at odds with the harsh way she'd spoken to him earlier. Letting out another sigh, he granted her permission with a nod of his head, something he'd found himself doing with alarming frequency this morning.

"How is Sally?"

The way the woman spoke made it sound as if she actually cared about Sally, that she cared that the young girl had been the victim of a vicious assault.

"She's in a pretty bad way," he answered finally, not sure his voice would hold as he spoke. "They won't let me see her yet."

The woman gave him a kind smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I need to talk to her doctor and process Sally for evidence. Does she have any parents or family that we need to contact?"

"Her parents died when she was a child. I'll get in contact with her adoptive parents."

"We can do that if you like. Perhaps you should go home and try to relax."

He shook his head, resolute in his position. "No. It needs to come from me. I'll handle it."

He looked at her briefly, those big green eyes looking at him with sympathy. Was this the side of Calleigh Duquesne that Horatio had fallen in love with?

If he were being honest with himself, he didn't much care for the side of Calleigh he'd met this morning. She'd been cold and dismissive towards him, never mind downright rude. His first instinct had been to judge her on her earlier behaviour, to completely dismiss his own training as a psychologist. But the last few days had been some of the most stressful he'd ever had to face. Like it or not, he found himself emotionally involved with Sally and her plight. There was no easy way to turn your feelings off when you walked in and found someone you cared about in such a state.

From speaking with Alexx, he was aware that Horatio had left the woman he loved in order to find himself again. Had he been in a more relaxed and less stressed, he would have been able to view Calleigh's behaviour objectively. Yet he himself had acted petulantly, his concern for Sally overriding his rational thinking this morning.

He was under no illusion that the woman he met this morning was suffering from a painfully broken heart. She had realised the man before her was the therapist in charge of her lover's care and had no doubt assumed he'd pushed Horatio into leaving her. It was a natural reaction to a broken heart, as the owner of the damaged organ sought to lash out at anyone in close proximity.

Neither of them had been at their best when they had initially met. It was time to bury the hatchet and move on. They both wanted the same thing: to catch Sally's attacker and bring them to justice. To do that they would need to work together.