Author: Fallon Ash
Title: Veni Vidi Vici
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Calleigh Duquesne/Megan Donner
Disclaimer: The characters of CSI: Miami do not belong to me, but to CBS and the creators. I make no profit from this.
Archive: Must ask first.
Summary: "You watch the new girl because you think she will never notice." Three POVs, three parts, three thousand words.
Warning: Possible canon and timeline errors.
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Veni
You watch the new girl because you think she will never notice. Her name is Calleigh
Duquesne, and she's perfect. She's young and ambitious and sharp as a pin. Her
hair is bleached almost white by the sun, not peroxide, her eyes are very
green, and her smile is wide and toothy. She bats her eyes and calls Horatio
'Handsome', because that's just the way she is, without noticing that his eyes
follow her after she's turned around. If it were any other man, you'd say that
the looks he gives her are appraising, calculating, undressing, but this is
Horatio, and that's just the way he looks at people. The new girl can't
possibly know that, though, so that's why you conclude that she doesn't notice
these things. You watch her because the back of your neck tingles when she
tosses her hair over her shoulder, exposing the curved line of her neck
perfectly, because you feel shivers along your spine when she laughs, and
because her bright smile hits you right in the pit of your stomach. But you
love Sean too much to ever do anything about it.
So the months pass, and she's not the new girl anymore. She's Calleigh from
Louisiana who wanted to be a scientist but couldn't resist the call of justice,
who swoons like the proper southern belle she is but over guns and bullets and
not over men, and who's hair you've brushed and braided over and over one
terrible night when the evidence was inconclusive and she couldn't catch a
multiple child molester who'd crossed the line to murder and she needed company
and comfort but shrunk away from physical contact. You still watch her, though.
You watch her through the day, and you think that maybe Horatio notices, but
you still go home to Sean every night, and you think that she might be dating
some gun store manager from down town. She never notices you.
And then suddenly more than a year has passed, and Sean is gone, dead, killed
in the line of duty, never coming back again. Calleigh isn't even a blip on
your radar during this time, because all you can think of is Sean, whom you're
never going to see again.
When you finally return to work everything has changed. Horatio is doing your
job. Everyone else is doing what you would be doing if you weren't doing
Horatio's job. Which you're not. You feel useless. You feel like doing
Horatio's job, and you really shouldn't be. Horatio notices that you try,
though, and keeps an eye on you at scenes, pity in his eyes. You hate it and
flee back to your lab, welcoming Speed and his unassuming support. You
overheard him once, defending you to that new boy, the handsome Cuban one, and
you wasn't sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, but you did neither, still
don't. You've already cried so much you feel it should be enough for a lifetime
and laughter just isn't a part of your vocabulary. Even though rationally you
know you're wrong, most of the time you still know that you'll never laugh
again.
You feel like a stranger in this place that was home for such a long time, like
the odd one out among a group of peers. Alexx looks at you with sadness and
puts her hand on your arm when she occasionally comes to look over your
shoulder into your microscope. You welcome it; you just can't help but resent
it as well, knowing that she goes home to her husband and children every night.
And that's what destroys it.
The only one who doesn't seem to have changed is Calleigh.
Blessed Calleigh with her sunny disposition draped over her no nonsense
attitude. She murmurs some words of comfort to you on your second day back,
just as she's leaving, but other than that she's all work. You welcome a break
from the averted eyes, and the lowered voices, but that's all. And besides;
you're not really paying attention anyway.
Day after day you drag yourself through the work day, night after night you
drag yourself home to an empty bed, and each morning out of the bed after a
restless night, until, one day, combing through low shrubs in a backyard, you
find yourself watching the line of Calleigh's neck again. It surprises you, but
you don't want to stop. She's squatting down, peering at the soggy spots on the
ground where a man was shot early this morning. The sun is beating down and
she's twisted her hair up and away and secured it with two chopsticks. Very
unlike her, but your own hair is sticky and you can't imagine what it must be
like with hair like hers. You keep your head bent over your task but a part of
your mind lingers, caresses the line of her neck, the slope of her chest, her
lightly accentuated hips. Her lips are slightly parted, but as you study her
face you notice that she has changed. The lines are more pronounced, the angles
just a little sharper, hidden behind a thicker layer of make-up. Her hair is no
longer white, but golden, unaccustomed to the sun.
She's still beautiful, though, maybe more now than before, you think, and the
thought surprises you, because you hadn't thought you'd think like that again.
As if sensing your gaze she suddenly turns to look at you. She shoots you one
of her brilliant smiles and you feel it in the pit of your stomach and smile
back.
You practically feel the thud as the world snaps back on its axis.
You're still going home to your lonely bed tonight. You might cry yourself to
sleep, but you're smiling now, which means you can smile again tomorrow, and
the day after that, and maybe, finally one day your first thought in the
morning may not be regret that he was taken and not you.
Continue to Vidi