Title: But She Lied

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melsie04@hotmail.com

Rating: PG

Summary: She said she'd never leave him, but she'd lied.

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

A/N: Response to the H/C anniversary challenge. A 'what if Body Count played out differently?' fic.

* * *

A muggy Louisiana day that he remembers as if it were yesterday. An overworked New Orleans crime lab where a young ballistics expert bends over a microscope, completely engrossed in whatever she's looking at. He's on his way to a meeting when he sees her and doesn't realize he's staring until his friend laughs and tugs his arm.

"You want an introduction?"

He catches himself, shakes his head and goes on to the meeting. Later though, he gets his introduction. He's standing at the vending machine trying to figure out how to get his Coca-Cola out or to get his money back. There's a soft chuckle from behind him and a voice kissed by the South.

"You've got to be a bit more persuasive."

She steps around and hits the machine with the palm of her hand. A beat later, the machine releases a soda, though not the one he'd wanted.

"Calleigh Duquesne," she says, holding out her hand. He smiles and extends his own. Her grasp is firm and warm and he feels himself falling. It disturbs him that he feels no control in this situation.

"Horatio Caine."

Her smile widens and a look he later comes to recognize as 'sassy Cal' crosses her face. Her hand is still in his.

"Well, Mr. Horatio Caine, it's good to meet you. So, are you going to share that Fresca or what?"

* * *

He thinks, if he could go back in time, he would go back to that first day, to that moment where the world stood still while she held his hand and smiled at him.

* * *

She fits into Miami as if she's lived here her whole life. He's thrilled (for more reasons than he'll admit to) that she accepted the job. He loves working with her, watching her, sounding out ideas with her. He brushes off his initial attraction to her as if it's nothing – she's a beautiful woman, he says. He'll get over it, he thinks.

But then Yelina calls from the hospital and she's crying too hard to talk to him. When he finally understands that his brother is gone, he clears his desk in one swoop, everything falling to the floor with a crash. He collapses, burying his face in his hands. He's numb; this can't be happening.

Calleigh finds him there, hours later. He doesn't ask how she knows. All that matters is that she's there and she's holding him and finally he can cry. And she's warm in his arms and it occurs to him that he's alive, only he doesn't feel it. But his office door is closed and she's kissing him back and when he slips his hand under her shirt, she doesn't stop him.

* * *

He wonders if that day had turned out differently, would he be sitting here now? Because she said she'd never leave him but she'd lied. And who is supposed to comfort him when it's the comforter who's gone?

* * *

Life goes on in much the same way as it did before. She doesn't mention that night so neither does he. But things have changed: he finds himself looking at her more often (finds her looking at him), he brushes past her not-so-accidentally, brings her coffee and, disturbingly, discovers the connection they've always had is now more intense.

He flirts with her (within the bounds of propriety, of course). She flirts back, sometimes, and calls him Handsome. But he's scared to hurt her so he begins to hold himself back.

He finds her working late one night. Knowing better than to push her to go home, he brings her coffee (with sugar, just the way she likes it) and she smiles.

"Thank you."

There's a loose strand of hair falling across her face. He can't help himself; he brushes it behind her ear and his fingers linger on her cheek. "No problem."

Something unseen passes between them. And then her lips are on his and he wonders why he's been fighting this because it feels so right and—

She breaks away. "I'm sorry. I—"

But he kisses her again because he's not sorry. Then he remembers where they are and it takes all of his willpower to pull back. "Let me take you to dinner tomorrow."

Her laugh is uncertain. "Horatio, I—"

He won't take no for an answer so he kisses her again.

* * *

He loves her because.

She wears sunflower pajamas to bed. She knows how to make him smile. She has fluffy pink slippers. She'll sing for him, if he asks. She's a closet arachnophobe. She's good with children. She lets him wash her hair. She likes to snuggle. She always says what's on her mind. She's not afraid of being wrong or saying, "I'm sorry." She's a morning person. She makes him happy.

Because her hand fits perfectly in his. Because she always tastes like strawberries, no matter what she's just eaten. Because her eyes darken when he's inside her and her lips curve in a smile only he gets to see. Because she lets him see her scars.

Because she's Calleigh and she loves him.

Loved him.

* * *

He loved to bring her flowers. Tulips from her father made her sad; tulips from him made her smile.

Now he brings flowers to her grave.

* * *

Otis' escape is a nightmare. They cancel their date so he can chase Otis and she can catch Kerner. But Kerner gets to her first and he leaves her on the beach with a bullet in her head. Horatio wants to drop everything to hunt for Kerner but Alexx gently reminds him that right now the child has to come first. He knows she's right.

When he catches Otis, he wastes no time in going after Kerner. They track him to a gun store in downtown Miami and Horatio comes so close to shooting him, but doesn't.

At her funeral, Janet hugs him and says she's sorry. Sorry doesn't fix it, he thinks.

This is harder than when Raymond died. He just wants to be left alone, except when he's alone all he can think about is her, and it hurts.

She said she'd never leave him, but she lied, and he doesn't know what to do without her.

* * *

the end