The alarm clock cut through her restless sleep, dragged her unforgiving into the real world. She rolled over slowly forcing her eyes open and to focus on the source of the dreadful noise. Finally seeing it she aimed a hand haphazardly in the clocks general direction. Catching it with her arm she swiped it clean off the night stand, cursing softly she leaned over the bed only to find that she really would have to get up to switch it off, it was out of reach. Briefly she thought about shooting it, but decided that wouldn't be a wise choice. She pulled herself to the floor dragging her body down the bed and half crawled to the clock and switched it off. Climbing to her feet she replaced the clock and through still half closed eyes felt her way to the shower. The hot water was bliss as it thundered down, hands firmly planted against the wall of the shower, he leaned into the jet of water letting his head hang as the water worked over the top of his head down to his neck. Slowly moving his head from side to side allowing the water to ease away the tension. Reaching out he turned off the water and ran his hands through his hair squeezing as much water out as he could. Before grasping a towel and drying himself.
After she dragged herself out of the shower, her rude awakening by the alarm clock forgotten. She parked herself on the couch and curled up with a magazine and a cup of coffee, She couldn't read her mind started to spin images from last night floated in and out of her vision as she tried to concentrate. It was no use she gave in and settled back. What was she going to say to him? Could she even face him? She started to get frustrated, why was she so scared the dream, lord the dream, and then how he looked at her, had she called out? Had she called his name? She racked her brains trying to remember if she had in her dream? She didn't know, only the ghostly images of fleeting shapes remained but the power with which the dream had held her, came back with vengeance and she trembled the hairs on the back of her neck prickled yet again and a shiver ran the length of her spine. The low knocking on her front door, rapidly snapped her out of her daydream, It couldn't be? She pondered as she got up slowly off the couch. And now she was being dragged to the door, by the insistent knocking. Flinging the door wide, half in annoyance that her train of thought had been broken it slid through her fingers and crashed back into the wall. Her brain registered the door handle leave her hand as her eyes registered her visitor.
He could see her through the lounge window tucked up on her couch with her head back; she looked like she was miles away. Her hair he noted was wet, not totally but that towel dried can't be bothered to dry it wet. Shower, Calleigh, wet hair. The sudden image appeared in his mind as instantly and as visible as if he had been there. The image stopped his hand in mid knock. Shaking the glorious vision, reluctantly from his mind. He didn't know how, he'd ended up at her front door; he didn't care now, all he knew was that he had to speak to her. He had to clear the air, he knew he had started something and now he felt hopelessly compelled to bring it to a swift conclusion. Whatever the hell that might be. He knew she needed an explanation, She deserved one, he could feel it, so desperately he needed to explain his actions, to talk to her to hold her to feel her, to make her his...The thoughts crashed through his brain and he stopped himself, stealing himself he reached out and knocked lightly on the door. And dragging himself together mentally were all he could manage before the door started to open. He watched as the door flung open full force and he saw her hand slip of the handle as it crashed into the wall, he registered the look of what was that Shock? Fear? Anger? Oh god what was he doing. Had he woken her? He should leave, Just turn around and get back in the car, No that would make it worse, The longer he left it now, would only make what he had to say harder. His brow creased into a frown as he tried to form the words, tried to arrange them into some form of order in his head. He swore she could see him thinking. So he stopped
He looked at her his head tipped ever so slightly in her direction, Reaching up he slipped his sunglasses off and lowering them he followed their decent with his eyes, better to watch his fingers than look in her eyes.
"Calleigh...I...Umm" he fidgeted with his sunglasses
"Can in?" his eyes flicked up to hers then back to his glasses. He noticed the reaction the way she closed her eyes breathed in deeply through her nose then how she quickly opened them he saw her smile The shock had left her face to be replaced by a look of insatiable curiosity. And he knew he had to move fast, he had to lay his cards on the table, strike whilst the iron was hot. Shit all of a sudden Horatio Caine had turned into the king of clichés.
She could see how uncomfortable he was, his mannerism, so ingrained into her being gave him away, he was fighting hard to regain his composure, fighting with that indomitable strength to Bring some form of normality to the chaos that was rained down around him. Something inside her stirred, a deep sense of protectiveness rode up from the very core of her and threatened to send her over the edge. She managed to meet his eyes just for an instant she stared deep once again into those deep blue windows of his soul and she saw his world start to disintegrate.
"Horatio" the word slid softly out of her mouth as the air was expelled slowly from her lungs. It was all she managed.