Everything Comes In Threes Chapter 4: Sleeping Love, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows CSI: Miami does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written View Down The Scope as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to View Down The Scope.

..... ..... .....

Title: Everything Comes In Threes
Author: Laeta

Chapter 4: Sleeping Love

Horatio already had opened another portion of his rifle case and had begun to disassemble the weapon by the time the door to the warehouse opened and uniformed officers rushed towards Calleigh and him. They barely glanced at the body, but Aaron stopped to look into the open eyes.

Shock, he mused, was reflected within them. A latex glove from his pocket helped him close the convict's eyes, even the most unlawful deserved respect in death.

He angled his head to find Calleigh and Horatio. They were still one floor up, Horatio cleaning his gun, Calleigh watching him silently.

He wondered how the future would play out after the night's event. It was difficult to imagine how it could not change either everything or anything.

.....

She waited while he cleaned his rifle thoroughly. She listened patiently as he gave a concise report concerning Kerner's last minutes after she gave her own. She watched Horatio lose to Aaron over returning his gear to EMPAD headquarters; he fought hard on the inability to finish a job, but everybody knew he was trying to avoid her.

The shoot-on-sight command suspended a reopening of an IAB investigation on Horatio, so the coroner's office merely removed Kerner's body from the scene and transported it to the morgue. They would cremate if no one came forth to claim the body twenty-four hours after news spread of his death.

All the while, Calleigh thought over the implications of a future with Horatio.

She no longer had a past with which to be concerned, but these past two days vindicated Horatio's fear of one.

Mere minutes or hours later, she came back and saw the dreary backdrop of the warehouse again. It was completely silent save the rhythmic breathing of Horatio, seated close to her. She turned to face him and saw the way he watched her. It was as though he braced himself against rejection.

He reminded her of a statue, a perfect man willing to go to such extremes for her. Was she worthy of him?

She knew once he sacrificed everything, there was nothing but forever for him. It showed the depth of his love for her, though he could not readily voice the emotion aloud without feeling overwhelming vulnerability. Could she accept such devotion?

There was also the question of her flaws. Was she capable of opening herself to rejection as he did this very moment?

She needed time.

And her heart broke for Horatio when he made the first motion towards separation. He must have seen her hesitation; it had to be why he only suggested he drive her home. It had to be.

Yet, if her heart broke for him, what did that mean? What decision had she already made and not known?

The answer woke her from a restless sleep. It propelled her to search the phonebook for shops that sold fine art. She dialed one promising number after another until she found the perfect gift. They promised her a swift delivery; she gave them a generous tip.

She waited as long as she could before driving to Horatio's house. The sight she saw was slightly comical, to say the least: it was impossible to tell how many hours Horatio had spent studying her gift as it sat on his front porch.

"Aren't you going to bring her inside?" She started him with her question.

"Her?"

She motioned to the miniature statue. "Galatea."

He made an instant connection. "An artist's perfect creation," he said quietly, to himself mostly. His next words were directed to her though, "I'm not perfect, Calleigh."

"Neither am I," she admitted, "but I realized that if you're willing to move beyond your past for me, I had to meet you halfway."

He frowned. "I'm going to make mistakes and hurt you. That's partly why Stacy and I divorced."

"It doesn't matter. I can see that you love me; it's in everything that you do. I only hope someday you can see that telling me won't cause a repeat of what happened with Stacy. I can wait for that day because all I know is that I love you - all of you."

"You deserve more than me."

She stepped onto the porch and sat besides Galatea. Calleigh imitated the way he sometimes tilted his head when asking a suspect a pointed question.

"A statue is perfect by nature, don't you think? Symmetrical and proportional to Phi. But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy. By comparison, mankind isn't prefect; only the gods are. Do you know why the ancient Greek gods always caused so much trouble for mankind?"

"Enlighten me."

"Because they can't have love; they're too worthy of it. Horatio, until you realize that being who you are, imperfections and all, is what makes me love you, you won't accept that I do love you - even if that's what you really want."

"Calleigh, I have a confession." Horatio paused, gathered his strength. "I think I need you to help me."

She smiled brightly. "That I can do. You can start by showing me the scar from the knife incident."

"Why?"

"It's an excuse to see you without your shirt on?"

Horatio studied her too innocent expression, took another moment, and then ushered her inside his house. He placed the small statue on a table and wordlessly began to undo the buttons of his shirt cuffs.

FIN