This poem is actually a year old, so it will be a rerun for some, but I resurrect it in honor of the date. Just think early season two for some of the references. I'll bet some of you thought that my fic never really got steamy. Hope everybody has a safe and happy Christmas. Deb
Rating: Better make it PG-13. It gets pretty hot!
Disclaimer: CSI-Miami isn't mine. This piece of sheer lunacy, however, is.
With apologies to Clement Moore, who is probably turning over in his grave. Your poem was great, Clement. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, you know.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and through CSI
Decorations were hung from things low and things high.
The tinsel was strung from the table and lights,
The whole place made ready for this night of nights.
The big Christmas party – every detail planned,
Of course, by the women. The part for the men
Was only to show up, and not very late,
And also, if possible, to bring a date.
Alexx was there early, in bright red and green.
With a far brighter smile, she inspected the scene.
Adele came to join her but came just as one.
When asked, she said simply, "My date is my gun."
Eric wore his wetsuit and patented grin,
Plus a Santa Claus hat. No lack of date for him.
"It's Miami," he said. "Not a snowflake in sight,
So we'll wind up this party at the beach tonight."
His date smiled and shivered, but not due to cold.
Yelina arrived, with her lipstick as bold
As the neon lights framing the buildings downtown.
"Tonight," she said. "This is the night it goes down.
This smoldering romance will burst into flame
As I kiss him for Christmas, and he calls my name."
Alexx and Adele simply each rolled their eyes
But were silent, for both of them were far too wise
To believe these delusions that sparks could ignite
Where no fuel for the fire was even in sight.
Hagen stalked in, glowering, looking around.
She had ignored his mandates and could not be found.
He had told her he'd bring her; she hadn't agreed
But just shrugged and said simply, "There's really no need."
He had given instructions to her just the same,
But she never so much as acknowledged his name,
Simply said with a smile, "Suit yourself; I'll suit me,"
And tonight, she was not where he'd told her to be.
Speed arrived on his bike, in his usual clothes.
"Where's your spirit?" said Alexx. Speed just shrugged. "Who knows?
I'm here, right? And on time. What else do you need?"
Then Calleigh the gorgeous entered after Speed.
She was wearing a red blouse, a vest of black leather.
Her long blonde hair floated free, light as a feather.
She was stunning, delightful, so sexy and strong
That the men all stared at her, all for far too long
To suit Hagen's taste. He crossed over in ire.
"Where were you?" he hissed. Calleigh's blue eyes flashed fire.
"It's none of your business, Detective," she said.
An electric shock hit her, and she turned her head.
Then what to her wondering eyes should appear
But the best-looking man she had seen the whole year.
He wore a blue shirt that just outlined his frame.
With sleek, graceful movements, he walked in to claim
The love that he'd tried for so long to deny.
His defenses had broken. He'd no longer try
To deny fate and chemistry, soulfire and love,
And a match that was destined in heaven above.
Calleigh stepped forward, and her eyes called his name.
His dazzling eyes met her and called hers the same,
And the echo of love resounded through the room,
Sounding to John Hagen like footsteps of doom.
Every head in the room turned at the sudden heat
As the fire of two soulmates finally did meet
Under the mistletoe, hanging above,
And their lips grasped each other in seal of their love.
Horatio claimed her, yet yielded up, too.
She surrendered herself. All the others could do
Was to stare as the passion they'd tried hard to fight
Took possession of both of them with all its might.
All kisses of history, too many to name,
Stepped aside then and bowed as that one kiss took claim
As the hottest kiss ever. The soul-warming heat
Seared the floor tiles beneath their oblivious feet,
And above them, the mistletoe wilted and died
In a conflagration of pure vegetable pride.
Yelina could not stand it. With vicious intent,
She picked up the punch bowl with snatch vehement
And poured all its contents on his ginger head,
Saying, "That ought to cool him off." No sooner said
Than the punch vaporized and surrounded the scene
With a cloud of delicious, red, fruit-flavored steam.
Neither one of them noticed. Their eyes only saw
Each other, two perfect halves, joined without flaw.
Their coworkers gawked at the visible flame,
And they whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Horatio! Calleigh! H! Bullet Girl! Yo!
Isn't there somewhere else you'd rather go?"
Their lips split apart, but the soul kiss remained.
"Excellent suggestion," Horatio exclaimed.
"The Hummer awaits us, my dear. Allow me!"
Calleigh fought for her senses and lost. "Please, feel free!"
They sprang to the Hummer. The engine ignited.
Their friends gathered at the door, glad and excited,
And they heard them exclaim, as they Hummed out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all! This will be a great night!"