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.
**************
Vici
From Day One I always noticed her, could sense her eyes on me from across
crowded rooms and crime scenes crawling with people. Briefly, it unnerved me,
but she was so subtle, so unobtrusive, that it soon became a comfort to know
that she was there, that she was watching. She was married, of course, so it
was safer to pretend I didn't notice. I didn't even watch her in return,
because she was Megan Donner. Megan Donner, the cool voice of logic and reason
that kept the Miami-Dade crime-lab running smoothly and efficiently. For a
newbie like myself at the time, she was untouchable in every single way. But I
fell hard.
And of course, just as I was starting to feel like I knew what I was doing
here, then there was the death of Horatio's brother that kicked me right back
to being the new outsider again. So I just did my job and stayed out of the
personal stuff. But through the whole mess, Megan still found time for me. And
for Tim. And for anyone who needed it. Horatio was shaken, badly, and brooding,
and somehow Alexx and Megan worked as a unified front to keep the atmosphere
endurable and get people to get the job done.
It passed, of course, and I eventually did become one of them. Megan and I grew
a little closer, and I trusted her a little more. Of course, just when I was
starting to feel secure here, everything fell apart again when Sean was killed.
Horatio took over her job, hired Eric. Things worked out. I missed Megan. But
six months later when she returned she was more untouchable than ever; I
couldn't possibly break cover. Besides, I don't think she noticed me, or
anyone, really, around her. So I stayed back, helped her when I could, watched
and waited, and suddenly revelled in feeling her eyes on me again one day. I
remember it so distinctly, one of those clear hot days, with temperatures in
the 90s before we'd even gotten to our scene. Hispanic male, shot in the chest
with three .38s. The dirt was hard packed and dry except for where his blood
had been absorbed by it for two hours before someone called it in. Two of the
bullets had gone straight through and were embedded in the ground; we had yet to
find the first one that must have been fired while he was still standing. And
as I was digging the bullets out of the ground, cursing my long hair laying
heavy on my head, I could suddenly sense her eyes on me. I watched her out of
the corner of my eye for minutes, before I finally turned to her. For a moment
I was stunned by the expression on her face; sadness and wonder mixed together,
leaving her breathlessly beautiful, but I managed to smile at her, and she
smiled back, and something that had been wrong with the world was suddenly
blessedly right again.
Of course, it took time after this. Megan was still so fragile; I had to be
subtle, and cautious, because I'd die if I hurt her in any way. Finally it just
became too much, and she was so distant I couldn't stand it any longer. I just
wanted to talk to her, be close to her, so I asked her to come down to my lab
one night, after I'd discovered I wasn't alone working late that night. I
hadn't planned what happened, had barely dared hope, but I stood close to her,
watched her, and then suddenly she was kissing me. It was all I could do to
remain composed, but I couldn't push her. Instead I just told her that it was
all up to her, before I got the hell out of there, collapsing in my car,
shuddering from the very memory.
I had to stay away, lest I break down and do something that might hurt her, or
both of us, for the next few days. I was expecting her sooner or later, but she
appeared in my lab after only three days. Of course, she confessed later that
that was all Horatio's fault. I'll never understand that man. But she did ask
me out to dinner, and suddenly, I was hoping. Hoping, wanting, needing, and so
badly it hurt.
But it was worth it. It was all worth it. To have her laying beside me now.
After that first dinner; when she took me to a tiny little seafood place down
south, and we cautiously, warily, thread our way across that last two years,
what we had thought, and done, and wanted, there has of course been rough
moments. We are so different. We almost made love after that first dinner, but
she stopped it, and while at the time it was almost more than I could handle,
it slowed the process down. We got to know each other, she showed me pictures
of her and Sean, and as I was embracing the woman he'd left behind, I also
cried with her over him. Even as it had given me her.
I watch her now. It's the middle of the night, and she's asleep. The moon
falling in through the window barely outlines her form beneath the sheet where
it has pooled around her waist. Her face is nestled against my neck, and an arm
is thrown across my chest, holding me to her. Even in sleep, she's still afraid
of loss. Her dark mass of hair is tangled with mine, the curls capturing the
lighter strands easily, much as she has captured me. My heart aches, I love her
so much, am afraid she'll one day leave me. But at this moment she's mine, and
mine alone, and I don't dare ask for more. I press a kiss to her forehead, and
she holds on tighter. I sink deeper into her, and try to let sleep join us.
The End