"Well, that could have gone a little better." Calleigh slipped her shoes off and dropped onto the couch. Horatio sat next to her, pulled her feet into his lap and gently started massaging the soles. He said nothing, knowing that Calleigh wasn't finished.

"You'd think, for once in their lives, my family would stop hating each other long enough to have dinner." Calleigh closed her eyes and sighed. "But I suppose that was just too much to hope for."

Horatio gave her foot a sympathetic squeeze. He had also hoped the rehearsal dinner would go well; instead, it had turned into an evening of shouting and passing blame. Marjorie had kept out of it as much as possible and when Tommy, on his fifth drink, had turned on her, she had quietly excused herself and left the restaurant. Calleigh had said nothing, but her grip on Horatio's hand had tightened with each exchange. Horatio, deciding enough was enough, had said their good-byes and led her out to the car. It wouldn't have surprised him if Kenwall and Tommy were still arguing with each other.

"When does life get easy?" Calleigh asked.

"I don't know. Look at me, forty-four and still waiting," Horatio said.

Calleigh stared at him through slitted eyelids. The corners of her mouth curved upwards as she rubbed her right foot on Horatio's thigh. "Yeah . . . you're practically an old man."

He caught her ankle. "Calleigh . . ."

Just as suddenly as it began, her mood changed. "I don't suppose you're still open to eloping to Vegas?"

He wanted to cheer her up and tugged her legs until she lay on her back. Then he leaned over her. "You mean you still want this old man?"

She giggled. "Maybe. It'll take a lot of persuasion."

"Well, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's persuasion."

Later, he thought he should have let her talk through what was bothering her. But that meant she would be sad, and after the last few days, all he wanted was to see her smile.

Calleigh woke up in tears. She rolled onto her side, away from Horatio, and buried her face in her pillow. She was back on the couch, bleeding to death, and Dos Santos was laughing. There was a gun in her side and his hands were on her . . .

She felt ill. She couldn't sleep in this bed, not tonight.

Calleigh put on her robe and headed to the living room. There was an ache in her belly, phantom pain she hadn't felt in months. It burned where the sword had pierced her. She curled up on the couch and switched the television on. There was nothing interesting to watch so she left it on CNN.

It didn't surprise her when, ten minutes later, Horatio joined her. He said nothing, but put his arm around her and stroked her back.

"I had a nightmare," she said.

"Dos Santos?"

"Yeah." She stared at the images flickering on the screen without seeing them. "I know it could have been worse. He could have raped me. He could have killed me . . . But I still feel so violated. It's like he destroyed something by coming back into our lives and I don't know how to fix it."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. I think it's only hitting me now how close it was. We were lucky."

"I guess this is confession time, then."

Calleigh looked up, confused. Horatio's eyes were dark, almost unrecognizable.

"I wanted to kill him. I was so close. It took all of my willpower not to pull that trigger."

She reached out and cupped his cheek. "Horatio, you couldn't have killed him. That's not who you are."

"Yes, I could have. To protect you, if I had to, I would."

Calleigh wasn't sure what to say to that. She took his hands, surprised to find they were ice cold. She kissed each hand, then looked up and smiled through her tears. "I hope you never have to."

Calleigh was late meeting her mom for lunch. She slipped into the chair and smiled up at the waiter. "Iced tea," she said.

"That's all you're having?" Marjorie raised an eyebrow in question.

"Mom, I haven't even looked at the menu yet." She skimmed through it and, when the waiter returned with her drink, ordered a salad.

"So," Marjorie said.

"So?"

"How are you feeling?"

Calleigh frowned. "Fine, why?"

"After last night . . ."

"Oh." She shrugged. "I don't know why I expected anything different. There's a reason none of us live in the same house anymore."

Marjorie absently fidgeted with an earring. "I'm worried about your brother."

"Tommy'll be fine. He'll go off to Africa or South America and work through whatever's bugging him. It's not as if this is the first time he and Dad have fought."

"I just want the two of you to be happy."

Calleigh reached across the table and took her mother's hand. "I'll talk to him."

"I'm worried about you, too."

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me. I'm your mother, I can see you're not fine. It's that man, isn't it? The one who broke into your house?"

Calleigh looked away. "Yes."

"You know, just because I'm your mother doesn't mean we can't share things with each other." Marjorie sounded almost tentative.

"I'm scared," Calleigh admitted. "Horatio is . . . He's as close to perfect as a man could be and I'm scared that I'll let him down."

"Calleigh, that man is so in love with you, I don't think it's possible for you to let him down."

Calleigh wished it were that simple. "I'm scared that people will use me to hurt him. It's what Dos Santos wanted to do both times he attacked me. I know it's been seven months but . . . it kills me to think that I'm his weakness."

Marjorie sighed. "Pain and loss come with the territory of loving someone. You can't let that stop you from loving, because then you're the one who loses out."

"I don't mean that I don't want to love him! Horatio is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm just scared that loving me is going to get him hurt."

"He's chosen to love you, and I'm willing to bet the rewards are a thousand times better than any risk of getting hurt."

The waiter arrived then with their food. Calleigh waited until he was gone before she spoke again. "Do you miss Daddy?"

"Every day."

"So why--?"

"We brought out the worst in each other. We still do."

"But you loved each other once. Before Clayton . . ."

"People aren't meant to bury their children. I hope you'll never know what that's like. Some folks are strong enough to make their marriage survive that kind of thing. Your father and I weren't." Marjorie leaned forward. "You and Horatio have already gone through so much together. Don't ever doubt that kind of love."

Kenwall stood outside Tommy's hotel room and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. When Tommy didn't answer, he knocked again.

"Thomas, I just want five minutes. Please."

The door opened. Tommy stared at his father, his arms folded across his chest. "Okay."

"Can I come in?"

Tommy shrugged. He turned. Kenwall followed him inside. "I got to thinking last night, and I realized that I never apologized to you. For anything. And I need you to know I'm sorry for . . . well, just about everything."

"Calleigh's always managed to overlook your faults. I can't."

Kenwall sighed; this reaction didn't surprise him. "I don't expect you to forgive me."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Trying to make peace."

"You're wasting your time."

"Please, for your sister's sake. What happened last night was inexcusable . . . Can we at least agree to be civil until after the wedding? I want Calleigh to be happy. After Saturday you can go back to hating me."

"I don't hate you. I don't feel anything for you."

Kenwall studied his son, his heart heavy. For a moment he pictured Tommy as a little boy, in happier times, and remembered one Sunday afternoon where Tommy had rescued a butterfly from a spiderweb. He'd been so proud, and had rushed to show Kenwall, who'd dubbed him Bugman. Calleigh and Clayton had shortened it to Bug. A few weeks later, Clayton was dead and Kenwall stopped paying attention to what Tommy brought him.

Tommy picked up his camera and stood by the door, his hand on the doorknob. "I have to be somewhere."

Kenwall nodded. He glanced once around the room, realized just how little he actually knew about his son, and let out a deep sigh. "Thank you for listening to me."

Calleigh listened to the phone ring and ring and ring. She was about to hang up when Tommy answered with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

There was a beat where neither knew quite what to say, and Tommy said, "I'm really sorry about last night, Cal."

She didn't say, "It's okay," because it wasn't.

"Cal, you there?"

"You scared me, Tommy."

"I know. I shouldn't have said anything, but sometimes you just can't keep it in, you know?"

Calleigh bit her bottom lip. "Mom said you'd been drinking before the dinner."

There was silence from Tommy's end.

"I don't want you to end up like him." She didn't need to say whom she meant.

"I'm nothing like him."

"He's your father, Tommy. As much as you want to change that, or change him, you can't. And you can't change who you are either."

More silence from Tommy.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself. If you're depressed—"

"I'm not going to hurt myself. I'll be okay."

"Okay. I love you, Bug."

"You too, Cal."

She hung up, still worried about her brother, but she knew him well enough to know that he needed time alone. When he wanted to speak, he would.

Calleigh took small steps as Alexx and Yelina led her up a pathway. At first, she'd been uncertain about the blindfold, but she trusted her friends and knew that whatever they'd planned couldn't be too bad.

She smelled aftershave.

"Alexx, if there are strippers—"

Alexx clapped a hand over Calleigh's mouth. When Yelina had come to her with the idea for the bachelorette party, Alexx had thought it was perfect. She knew Calleigh wouldn't want to go clubbing or watch strippers, and she was certain Horatio would approve of whatever happened tonight.

Alexx smiled at her husband who stood at the bedroom door. He nodded; his part of the evening was done. He stepped aside to let Alexx lead Calleigh inside. Horatio sat on the edge of the bed, also blindfolded.

Just as Alexx and Yelina had "kidnapped" Calleigh, Speed and Delko had arranged to get Horatio here. They'd promised him that he wouldn't find himself doing anything he didn't want to do.

Tommy lit the last of the candles and nodded to the rest of the conspirators. He bent to Horatio's ear and whispered the last of his instructions. "Do not, under any circumstances, remove the blindfold."

Grinning, Alexx whispered the same command to Calleigh, before gesturing for everyone to follow her out. She wondered how long it would take before Calleigh and Horatio realized they were in their own home.

Calleigh stood still, not sure what to do next. "Hello?"

"Calleigh?"

"Horatio?"

Realization dawned at the same time, and Calleigh started laughing. She reached up to take the blindfold off, remembered Alexx's instruction, and decided it might be fun to play.

"Where are you?"

"On a bed. I don't know." Horatio also kept his blindfold on. "Follow my voice."

Calleigh did just that, tentatively moving towards him. Her legs brushed his knees and she stopped. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You think we're alone?"

"We'd damn well better be." He laughed.

Calleigh, feeling deliciously naughty behind the blindfold, started unbuttoning her shirt. "You know, I've never done it like this." Her voice was deliberately low. She found Horatio's hand and drew it to her.

As he pulled her down to join him on the bed, he whispered, "Remind me to thank the guys later."

She laughed against him.

Much, much later, the blindfolds discarded, both thoroughly exhausted, they snuggled together.

"You don't have any doubts about marrying me, do you?"

Calleigh smiled. "None at all."

"Good. Because I think I was born to love you, Calleigh Duquesne."

"Lord, Horatio, but you always know just what to say."

"I'm not just saying it."

"I know. And I love you. And all the Dos Santoses in the world couldn't stop me."

In a complete reversal of the previous day, Tommy stood outside his father's apartment. He carried a photo album containing some of his recent work. He knocked on the door quickly, nervously.

"Tommy!"

He didn't ask to go in. He shifted from foot to foot, studying the carpet before he raised his eyes to meet Kenwall's curious gaze. "I can't just forget everything that's happened."

"I'm not asking you to do that."

Tommy nodded. "But I am willing to try and start over."

Kenwall was silent for a long moment. "For Calleigh's sake?"

"For mine." He held out the album. "I thought . . . if you'd like, you could take a look at these."

Kenwall smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'll see you on Saturday." He turned to leave.

"I've just made coffee. Why don't you come inside? We can look at these together."

Very slowly, he turned back to his father. "Okay."

"Okay."