Happiness for H: Ghosts
(The next morning - cont)
"Horatio, what are you doing up?" Emily chose to ignore his question. "You barely slept last night. Why don't you go back to bed and I'll bring you something to hot to drink – tea, coffee, maybe? I'll even make you breakfast," she added coaxingly, touching him on the arm.
He refused to budge however, and even though he was bone-tired, she recognized the stubborn set to his jaw. Sighing, she pushed her hair back from her eyes and regarded him thoughtfully.
"Who was it Emily?" She watched as he closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the wall.
"If you must know, it was Eric. You are in no shape to go in to CSI today Horatio. I thought it best to let someone know. Don't worry about it – Eric said they could cover for you. And," she paused looking at him sternly, "you are are in no way shape or form fit to be out driving around the streets of Miami or, chasing down bad guys."
"Emily, I am just a little tired. I've worked through worse than this. I'm going to take a shower. You shouldn't have called Eric without talking to me first," he added, turning away from her to head down the hall. The last part was petty on his part, he realized, but he couldn't help it this morning. She should know better, he thought irritably.
Emily watched him walk slowly down the hall. She glanced down at Ghost sitting like a sentry beside her.
"You heard him?" The dog looked at her, with a look that said, 'I can't believe he spoke to you like that!'
"Feel like doing some guard duty Ghost?" Her pet stood and shook his head.
"Okay, it's a plan then. Let's go while he's in the shower."
Horatio let the warm water pound over his body, hoping it would work some of the stiffness from his shoulders. After 15 minutes, he felt no better than when he stepped into the spray. He would slip into CSI and make sure there was nothing pressing. With any luck, he could be back home by early afternoon. He hated to admit it to himself, but Emily did have a point about him having less than a restful nights sleep. The bed looked inviting when he entered their bedroom, Emily had made it up and turned down the light blanket on his side while he was showering.
"Horatio, I don't think you'll be needing that shirt, or those pants or that suit jacket for that matter." At the sound of his wife's voice, he turned from where he had been about to take a shirt from the closet. Tipping his head to one side, he regarded her thoughtfully. She was up to something. Emily looked at him innocently, then took a sip of her coffee, listening to the sound of the big dog moving around out in the living room. She leaned against the doorway, sipping her coffee, watching him from beneath her lashes.
"I'm not really in the mood for games this morning Emily," he said, turning back to the closet. Her next words stopped him in his tracks.
"Well, I'm afraid Ghost is, Horatio. As we speak, he's hiding your car keys in his favorite doggie hiding spot and," she held up her hand as she saw his eyes widen and that he was about to speak, "I don't need to tell you that Ghost is very protective of his hiding spot. I dare say if you do manage to find them, you'll have to get past him first."
"He wouldn't bite me, Emily. I'm really in no mood for these kinds of games this morning." She watched as he ran his hand through his damp hair in frustration.
Emily sighed and walked over to where he still stood. Her hazel eyes were serious as she said,
"Okay, then, Horatio. Sit down and hear me out first. If you can honestly say that you are fit for duty today, I will personally drive you to CSI myself in the minivan. We can coax your keys away from Ghost tonight. I think he might give them up for a Blue Dog cookie bone, the large ones. Deal?"
"You really gave that dog my car keys?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Of course. He was only too happy to help. You know," she sat down beside him, "I'm only doing this because I love you Horatio, because I'm worried about you. Those letters unlocked some memories for you, Horatio. Maybe not all good." Wordlessly, he nodded his head. 'That was an understatement,' he thought. He became aware of Emily's voice beside him. "Your subconscious needs some time to work through it all. Sleep can be very helpful with that process. I know this from experience." Hesitantly she touched his shoulder. "The more you try to run from the memories, the more they will haunt you at night, Horatio."
"What do you suggest I do, doctor?" Horatio asked, some of his usual good humor returning.
"Take a day off and call me in the morning." He raised an eyebrow.
"No pills to help me sleep, keep the nightmares away?"
"Nope. I practice a type of medicine that relies on comfort food, chamomile tea and lots of TLC from someone who loves you very much. Not necessarily in that order, mind you," Emily said with a smile. "Now, does that mean you are willing to listen to reason and get yourself back in that bed?"
"Do I have a choice?" he asked, only half seriously.
"Not really," Emily answered him, equally seriously. "Ghost is still in possession of your car keys, and I'm following doctor's orders. I'd say you're stuck here for the morning at least."
"Okay, you win," Horatio watched as his wife's eyes lit up, "for the moment," he finished, his eyes serious. "I am going to call Eric." He held up his hand as she began to protest. "I want to check in with him. You haven't given Ghost my cell phone too?"
Emily shook her head and said laughingly,
"No, I didn't think you'd appreciate it if he used up all your minutes calling his doggie friends back in Minnesota." See the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips, Emily gave in to the temptation to stroke the hair from where it had fallen across his forehead. "I'll go get your cell, if you'll get into something more comfortable and get back in bed."
"Yes ma'am," he said softy, capturing her wrist in his hand. Hazel eyes carefully searched blue ones, relieved that the haunted look from last night was gone from their depths.
"I love you Horatio."
"I love you too, Emily." She leaned closer and kissed him quickly, then slipped away to retrieve his cell and set about making some breakfast.
"What the heck is going on with this file?" she said under her breath, watching as her Braille dots went scrolling up the screen faster than she could say 'Dot 5'. "Drat!" Emily almost pounded the table in frustration as the blue screen went blank and then she was looking at the picture of Horatio and Ghost she had on her desktop. Leaning her head back in her chair, she decided this might be a good time for a coffee break. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, Emily glanced at the clock on the stove. 11:30. Horatio had been asleep for almost 4 hours now. Idly, she glanced at the calendar on the fridge. The words BRAILLE CONFERENCE jumped out at her. It was just two weeks away.
'I wonder if Willow will be there?" she mused as she wandered back toward her laptop and the recalcitrant file awaiting her. Passing their bedroom, she peaked in, just able to make her husband's still form out on the bed. He appeared to be sleeping quite soundly and though she itched to go in and slip his cell from the night table beside the bed, she continued on to her study. The box of memories Willow had left for Horatio was sitting on the bed. She had quickly gathered up the contents last night, and put the whole mess in here, where it would be out of his sight, at least. Setting her coffee down, she began to put the letters together in a neat stack.
"What is this?" she wondered, looking at the unopened envelope. Emily sat down on the bed, carefully turning it over in her hands as she scrutinized every inch. "It's from his mother!" she said quietly. "Maybe this explains why she didn't leave with her sons." Her finger was ready to slide beneath the flap of the envelope when her grandmother's voice echoed through her mind.
"Emily, it's none of your business, dear. When Horatio is ready to talk about his past, he will. Do try to be patient. Sometimes nothing good comes from dredging up old memories."
She dropped the letter as if it burned her, staring at it where it lay on the floor. Her grandmother was right. Just look at what had happened last night. Horatio should be the one to decide if this last letter should be opened. With her toe, she pushed it under the bed. 'Out of sight, out of mind,' she told herself sternly.
TBC
