Title: The Fake Engagement
Rating: PG-13...for now...
Pairing: Horatio/Calleigh, Hagen/OC
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot, Maria Rodriguez,
MacKenzie Adams and Sally Johnson.
A/N: I'm sorry this chapter very...pointless, but I've got so much stuff on
my mind right now, but I couldn't stop writing...I just had my CPR testing,
and I passed! :D Oh, and I wasn't sure if Horatio was Cal's boss or
anything so I stuck with supervisor. Correct me if I'm wrong. Anyway, I
apologize in advance.
The Fake Engagement [3/?]
Calleigh woke up on Wednesday, yawning. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, and glanced at the clock. The digital red numbers declared the time was 2:59 am.
Calleigh blinked in horror, and misery. "Aughhh..." She groaned, stifling her groan under her pillow. Her pillow flew up suddenly, as Calleigh emerged, her hair a fuzzy mess, and wide-stricken eyes. In her movement, her neck and shoulders received a painful spasm.
"Sweet Goddess of Texas!" Calleigh cried out loud, realizing the real reason why she couldn't sleep. *Today's Wednesday! * She began to panic, first looking around her room; the sight of her previously packed suitcases giving her no comfort. *What am I going to wear?!*
She jumped out of her sunny bed sheet, with flying kittens, and raced over to her closet. She yanked the door open, and cursed loudly, as it stubbed her toe. Hopping in an undignified manner, she hobbled over to her chair, and sat down.
"Okay, Calleigh..." She instructed herself, "You have got to relax. It's only 3:00 am." She paused, the big picture getting clear. "What the hell am I doin' up at 3:00 in the morning?!?" She grumbled to herself. Her toe subdued from the pain, she stood up and limped back to her clothing. She knew she needed to look good. It was a 7-hour flight, and Calleigh was NOT a pretty flyer. Sure, she loved the whole concept of seeing movies before the people on land, but all the staying in one place, not moving, really got on Calleigh's nerves.
She rubbed her face. She couldn't do any brainwork while half-asleep. Going into the kitchen, she filled the coffeepot with water, and drank a glass of orange juice.
She went into the living room, and began to punch her trusty black punching bag. She had gotten it the day she moved into her apartment. It was her only escape from the stress of work, and restlessness.
She worked out for 45 minutes, and saved 15 for her coffee and her favorite magazine, "The Southern Belle". Feeling refreshed after drinking her coffee, she remained her previous place, before her clothing.
Fully knowing it was 4:00 am, she skimmed through ever article of clothing she owned, besides the ones in her suitcase. She decided on a black skirt with an angled hem that started at her left knee and ended halfway down her right calf. She paired it with a close-fitting white shirt with ¾ length sleeves that flowed at the elbow.
Appreciating her decision, she went into the bathroom, for a long, steamy shower. Since no water had been wasted, as powerful force of not-scalding- yet-not-cold water massaged her neck, and shoulders. She closed her eyes, and imagined that the pressure was, not from the shower, but from a certain someone's strong hands, massaging her body. She continued, shampooing and rinsing her hair out, then soaping her body with her own mixture of raspberry and vanilla body wash.
Holding her hands in front of her face, she lighted softly. Her fingers, more so her fingertips were wrinkled from all the humidity in the bathroom. Shutting the shower off, she wrapped a towel around herself and slipped into a fluffy light pink bathrobe.
Pouring herself another cup of coffee, she slid open her sliding doors, that led to her balcony, to watch the sunrise. Turning her head over to the empty chair next to her, she sighed longingly. *If only he could be here with me...* She thought, her wet hair gradually turning into soft waves from the crisp air.
She switched on her radio, and the soft voices of the Dixie Chicks floated through the speakers.
'Cause without you I'm not okay
And without you I've lost my way
My heart's stuck in second place, ooh
Without you
She swallowed at the irony of the situation and felt her body relax as a calming sensation settled within her soul, as the first rays of gold, ruby, and orange fell over her. Deciding it was time for her to get ready, she got up and looked into her bedroom mirror.
Calleigh always had clear skin, so she would never wear any make-up, except for lip-gloss. But whenever she took a shower, her skin would become really dry, and she would rely on Aveeno to revive it. She grinned, here she was putting on crème, while other women her age would be painting so much make- up on their faces, it was hard to tell if they actually had a face under all that.
She was about to stand up and go to her clothes when she paused. She, being from Texas, has a moderate amount of lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, and blush. She peered into her mirror, and firmly resolved to knock Horatio off his steady feet.
She added a tint of soft pink blush on her cheekbones, but skipped the mascara. Lining her eyes in bold black eyeliner, her blue-green eyes seemed to stand out more. She took clear lip-gloss and rolled some on her lips.
She remembered when she had done the same thing, with her mother's make-up, when she was 7 years old. Her mother had taken a picture of her, and Calleigh dug it out of her wallet. She saw a younger her wearing a black miniskirt, but on her it was more of a knee-length skirt. She had added a bright red halter-top, and smeared hot pink lipstick all over her mouth and chin. Her upper part of her face had had pink powder scattered all over, and young Calleigh grinned cheekily at the camera.
Calleigh laughed, and put the photo back in her wallet. She looked like a bride-gone-horribly-wrong. Imagine if Horatio saw that picture...Calleigh tucked her wallet securely in her black bag, somewhat hopeful he might be able to see it, in the time of their trip.
Shaking her head at the craziness of the issue, she walked around. It was 7:30 am, and the Lieutenant told her to meet him at the Lab and they would go together from there. Still wearing her bathrobe, with nothing but a black bra and panty set under, she padded out of the apartment into the balcony.
She inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes for a quick nap. She thought she imagined faint knocking but ignored it, falling asleep.
Horatio's POV
Horatio knocked on Calleigh's door again, harder this time. Raising his eyebrows, he fished out his keys and stuck the one Calleigh had given him for emergencies. He had hoped there was more to the meaning 'just for emergencies' but if there was Calleigh didn't dwell on it.
Opening the now unlocked door, the sweet smell of her home, mixed with the bitter aroma of coffee, hit him. Breathing deeply, he slipped his sunglasses down his nose, not completely taking them off, and looked around for his 'fiancée'.
Noticing the balcony doors open, his heart sped up with worry. He had too many sad encounters with open French doors, the air blowing the white curtains apart peacefully.
Pushing his sunglasses back, he strode to the balcony, determinedly. Hand on his gun warily, he stepped out and looked around.
He froze and swallowed hard. Calleigh was laid back, languidly, her ankles locked and her wavy hair fanned out under her. Taking a step closer, he took off his sunglasses, and tucked them into his shirt collar. His closer view allowed his a tantalizing glimpse of her slender neck where her bathrobe top had loosened and fallen away.
But it wasn't the seductive posture she was in, that left Horatio breathless... *Maybe it had a little factor* Horatio compromised, but the innocent glow her face gave off. It showed everything Calleigh-spiritual. Pure, seductive, adorable, mature, courageous, vulnerable, stubborn, laid- back, mischievous.
He knelt down next to her, and pushed back a stray strand of hair. She stirred, her cheek pushing into his gradually opening hand. It fit perfectly, Horatio mused silently. "Calleigh...Cal..."
Calleigh POV
Calleigh stretched, as her name was murmured into her ear by a low, comforting voice. Her brow furrowed, she mumbled in her sleep, "Horatio...? What are you doing here?"
She stiffened, realizing that she wasn't dreaming any longer, and that Horatio Caine was indeed beside her, his palm cradling her face.
She opened her eyes, and saw the most amazing sight. Horatio Caine, gazing at her with unbidden affection, as the golden rays of the sun made a halo above his head, and glinted off his red hair.
She shot up, and stared at him with wide eyes. She saw his own eyes trail down her neck, to her unhidden cleavage. She snapped her bathrobe shut, blushing, and stood up, apologetic.
"Oh, Horatio, I'm sorry..." She paused and came to a sudden stop. She narrowed her eyes, "Wait a minute...why am I apologizing? What are you doing here? I thought we were supposed to meet at the Lab."
Now it was Horatio's turn to become embarrassed. "I decided to surprise you here, but you didn't answer the door, so I got worried and..." He held up the key, like if it had the answers to the world.
His voice was calm, his face; placid. But it was his eyes that showed the real concern he felt. Calleigh smiled, touched sincerely.
She stood up, waving around at her apartment. "Make yourself at home...I know it's not a mansion, but it's home to me." She paused, then rose on her toes, and pecked him on the cheek daringly. "Thanks for caring, H." She, then, walked to her room, without awaiting a response.
Horatio's POV
Horatio stood still, watching the innocent temptress waltz away. His cheek still burned from her lips, and he finally got to look, really *look*, at her apartment.
It was so Calleigh. With her white flowing curtains, and the homey sense, Horatio wished his house could be half as warm and inviting as hers.
He walked around, stopping in front of the refrigerator, the keeper of all photos. In spite of living alone, she had plastered photos of everyone she knew.
In the middle of the fridge, there was a glossy 8' x 12' of the CSI: Miami criminalists. There was her, Horatio, Tim, Alexx, Eric and Frank.
The photo was tilted, as if hastily stuck on. Eyes curious, Horatio peeled of the top picture, and saw an old picture with two blonde females, and one dark-haired man. Horatio figured it was her family, back in Texas. He realized in amazement that the CSI unit had been christened her new family.
His eyes skimmed the fridge and paused on a teenaged Calleigh, holding the hand of a dark-skinned boy, both smiling brightly. He pulled it off, and held it in his hand, so he was able to look at it better.
Horatio saw a flashy banner of a dance. The prom, to be specific, in the corner of the photo and noticed how naïve and pure Calleigh seemed.
"Ready?" A clear voice, with a tinge of southern anticipation, came from behind him, and he turned to see Calleigh standing in the kitchen entrance.
He felt it breath catch as his eye roved over her appearance. She wore a black skirt that showed off her slim, long legs, with a white shirt that hugged her curves temptingly.
With a smile, Horatio noticed she wore, more than her usual amount, of makeup. Her eyes lowered at the intensity of Horatio's gaze, and landed on the photo he held in his hand.
Her eyes shot up to meet his, his face telling all. His eyebrows were raised slightly, encouraging her to explain; yet his eyes were ready to back off the subject, if needed to.
Calleigh's POV
Calleigh fought to keep her face neutral, as she nodded to the picture. "Prom...That's Jamal Carter..." She laughed bitterly, her resolve crumbling, "Daddy didn't like him much...said he had too much dark skin to be called a white man. Last thing he ever said to me."
She swallowed hard, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Ashamed that she was still hurting, even after 10 years, she turned away from the watchful gaze of the Lieutenant.
"I thi---"He voice came out hoarse, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Wha'd ya say we blow this joint?" She shot at him, flashing him a sassy smile, hoping it would cover the pain, that she would not bother Horatio with.
Horatio smiled back, but Calleigh could tell he had filed the topic in his mind, for another time. He walked over to her, paused, and finally just offered his hand on her shoulders. She could tell by his body language that he wanted to do more, and she shut her eyes, cursing all the rules between a worker and her handsome supervisor.
"I got your suitcases, so I'll meet you in the Hummer." He said softly, and released her shoulders reluctantly.
Calleigh stared after him, as he walked out of her apartment. She just thanked God for Horatio Caine in her life. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her cell phone, and her purse, and with a lingering glance at her 'home-sweet-home', she shut her door and walked down the stairs, out to the awaiting Hummer.
Coming up...Horatio and Calleigh finally meet John and Sally. Will they be able to keep up the fake charade or will the ever-romantic Sally see through them?
The Fake Engagement [3/?]
Calleigh woke up on Wednesday, yawning. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, and glanced at the clock. The digital red numbers declared the time was 2:59 am.
Calleigh blinked in horror, and misery. "Aughhh..." She groaned, stifling her groan under her pillow. Her pillow flew up suddenly, as Calleigh emerged, her hair a fuzzy mess, and wide-stricken eyes. In her movement, her neck and shoulders received a painful spasm.
"Sweet Goddess of Texas!" Calleigh cried out loud, realizing the real reason why she couldn't sleep. *Today's Wednesday! * She began to panic, first looking around her room; the sight of her previously packed suitcases giving her no comfort. *What am I going to wear?!*
She jumped out of her sunny bed sheet, with flying kittens, and raced over to her closet. She yanked the door open, and cursed loudly, as it stubbed her toe. Hopping in an undignified manner, she hobbled over to her chair, and sat down.
"Okay, Calleigh..." She instructed herself, "You have got to relax. It's only 3:00 am." She paused, the big picture getting clear. "What the hell am I doin' up at 3:00 in the morning?!?" She grumbled to herself. Her toe subdued from the pain, she stood up and limped back to her clothing. She knew she needed to look good. It was a 7-hour flight, and Calleigh was NOT a pretty flyer. Sure, she loved the whole concept of seeing movies before the people on land, but all the staying in one place, not moving, really got on Calleigh's nerves.
She rubbed her face. She couldn't do any brainwork while half-asleep. Going into the kitchen, she filled the coffeepot with water, and drank a glass of orange juice.
She went into the living room, and began to punch her trusty black punching bag. She had gotten it the day she moved into her apartment. It was her only escape from the stress of work, and restlessness.
She worked out for 45 minutes, and saved 15 for her coffee and her favorite magazine, "The Southern Belle". Feeling refreshed after drinking her coffee, she remained her previous place, before her clothing.
Fully knowing it was 4:00 am, she skimmed through ever article of clothing she owned, besides the ones in her suitcase. She decided on a black skirt with an angled hem that started at her left knee and ended halfway down her right calf. She paired it with a close-fitting white shirt with ¾ length sleeves that flowed at the elbow.
Appreciating her decision, she went into the bathroom, for a long, steamy shower. Since no water had been wasted, as powerful force of not-scalding- yet-not-cold water massaged her neck, and shoulders. She closed her eyes, and imagined that the pressure was, not from the shower, but from a certain someone's strong hands, massaging her body. She continued, shampooing and rinsing her hair out, then soaping her body with her own mixture of raspberry and vanilla body wash.
Holding her hands in front of her face, she lighted softly. Her fingers, more so her fingertips were wrinkled from all the humidity in the bathroom. Shutting the shower off, she wrapped a towel around herself and slipped into a fluffy light pink bathrobe.
Pouring herself another cup of coffee, she slid open her sliding doors, that led to her balcony, to watch the sunrise. Turning her head over to the empty chair next to her, she sighed longingly. *If only he could be here with me...* She thought, her wet hair gradually turning into soft waves from the crisp air.
She switched on her radio, and the soft voices of the Dixie Chicks floated through the speakers.
'Cause without you I'm not okay
And without you I've lost my way
My heart's stuck in second place, ooh
Without you
She swallowed at the irony of the situation and felt her body relax as a calming sensation settled within her soul, as the first rays of gold, ruby, and orange fell over her. Deciding it was time for her to get ready, she got up and looked into her bedroom mirror.
Calleigh always had clear skin, so she would never wear any make-up, except for lip-gloss. But whenever she took a shower, her skin would become really dry, and she would rely on Aveeno to revive it. She grinned, here she was putting on crème, while other women her age would be painting so much make- up on their faces, it was hard to tell if they actually had a face under all that.
She was about to stand up and go to her clothes when she paused. She, being from Texas, has a moderate amount of lipstick, eyeliner, mascara, and blush. She peered into her mirror, and firmly resolved to knock Horatio off his steady feet.
She added a tint of soft pink blush on her cheekbones, but skipped the mascara. Lining her eyes in bold black eyeliner, her blue-green eyes seemed to stand out more. She took clear lip-gloss and rolled some on her lips.
She remembered when she had done the same thing, with her mother's make-up, when she was 7 years old. Her mother had taken a picture of her, and Calleigh dug it out of her wallet. She saw a younger her wearing a black miniskirt, but on her it was more of a knee-length skirt. She had added a bright red halter-top, and smeared hot pink lipstick all over her mouth and chin. Her upper part of her face had had pink powder scattered all over, and young Calleigh grinned cheekily at the camera.
Calleigh laughed, and put the photo back in her wallet. She looked like a bride-gone-horribly-wrong. Imagine if Horatio saw that picture...Calleigh tucked her wallet securely in her black bag, somewhat hopeful he might be able to see it, in the time of their trip.
Shaking her head at the craziness of the issue, she walked around. It was 7:30 am, and the Lieutenant told her to meet him at the Lab and they would go together from there. Still wearing her bathrobe, with nothing but a black bra and panty set under, she padded out of the apartment into the balcony.
She inhaled deeply, and closed her eyes for a quick nap. She thought she imagined faint knocking but ignored it, falling asleep.
Horatio's POV
Horatio knocked on Calleigh's door again, harder this time. Raising his eyebrows, he fished out his keys and stuck the one Calleigh had given him for emergencies. He had hoped there was more to the meaning 'just for emergencies' but if there was Calleigh didn't dwell on it.
Opening the now unlocked door, the sweet smell of her home, mixed with the bitter aroma of coffee, hit him. Breathing deeply, he slipped his sunglasses down his nose, not completely taking them off, and looked around for his 'fiancée'.
Noticing the balcony doors open, his heart sped up with worry. He had too many sad encounters with open French doors, the air blowing the white curtains apart peacefully.
Pushing his sunglasses back, he strode to the balcony, determinedly. Hand on his gun warily, he stepped out and looked around.
He froze and swallowed hard. Calleigh was laid back, languidly, her ankles locked and her wavy hair fanned out under her. Taking a step closer, he took off his sunglasses, and tucked them into his shirt collar. His closer view allowed his a tantalizing glimpse of her slender neck where her bathrobe top had loosened and fallen away.
But it wasn't the seductive posture she was in, that left Horatio breathless... *Maybe it had a little factor* Horatio compromised, but the innocent glow her face gave off. It showed everything Calleigh-spiritual. Pure, seductive, adorable, mature, courageous, vulnerable, stubborn, laid- back, mischievous.
He knelt down next to her, and pushed back a stray strand of hair. She stirred, her cheek pushing into his gradually opening hand. It fit perfectly, Horatio mused silently. "Calleigh...Cal..."
Calleigh POV
Calleigh stretched, as her name was murmured into her ear by a low, comforting voice. Her brow furrowed, she mumbled in her sleep, "Horatio...? What are you doing here?"
She stiffened, realizing that she wasn't dreaming any longer, and that Horatio Caine was indeed beside her, his palm cradling her face.
She opened her eyes, and saw the most amazing sight. Horatio Caine, gazing at her with unbidden affection, as the golden rays of the sun made a halo above his head, and glinted off his red hair.
She shot up, and stared at him with wide eyes. She saw his own eyes trail down her neck, to her unhidden cleavage. She snapped her bathrobe shut, blushing, and stood up, apologetic.
"Oh, Horatio, I'm sorry..." She paused and came to a sudden stop. She narrowed her eyes, "Wait a minute...why am I apologizing? What are you doing here? I thought we were supposed to meet at the Lab."
Now it was Horatio's turn to become embarrassed. "I decided to surprise you here, but you didn't answer the door, so I got worried and..." He held up the key, like if it had the answers to the world.
His voice was calm, his face; placid. But it was his eyes that showed the real concern he felt. Calleigh smiled, touched sincerely.
She stood up, waving around at her apartment. "Make yourself at home...I know it's not a mansion, but it's home to me." She paused, then rose on her toes, and pecked him on the cheek daringly. "Thanks for caring, H." She, then, walked to her room, without awaiting a response.
Horatio's POV
Horatio stood still, watching the innocent temptress waltz away. His cheek still burned from her lips, and he finally got to look, really *look*, at her apartment.
It was so Calleigh. With her white flowing curtains, and the homey sense, Horatio wished his house could be half as warm and inviting as hers.
He walked around, stopping in front of the refrigerator, the keeper of all photos. In spite of living alone, she had plastered photos of everyone she knew.
In the middle of the fridge, there was a glossy 8' x 12' of the CSI: Miami criminalists. There was her, Horatio, Tim, Alexx, Eric and Frank.
The photo was tilted, as if hastily stuck on. Eyes curious, Horatio peeled of the top picture, and saw an old picture with two blonde females, and one dark-haired man. Horatio figured it was her family, back in Texas. He realized in amazement that the CSI unit had been christened her new family.
His eyes skimmed the fridge and paused on a teenaged Calleigh, holding the hand of a dark-skinned boy, both smiling brightly. He pulled it off, and held it in his hand, so he was able to look at it better.
Horatio saw a flashy banner of a dance. The prom, to be specific, in the corner of the photo and noticed how naïve and pure Calleigh seemed.
"Ready?" A clear voice, with a tinge of southern anticipation, came from behind him, and he turned to see Calleigh standing in the kitchen entrance.
He felt it breath catch as his eye roved over her appearance. She wore a black skirt that showed off her slim, long legs, with a white shirt that hugged her curves temptingly.
With a smile, Horatio noticed she wore, more than her usual amount, of makeup. Her eyes lowered at the intensity of Horatio's gaze, and landed on the photo he held in his hand.
Her eyes shot up to meet his, his face telling all. His eyebrows were raised slightly, encouraging her to explain; yet his eyes were ready to back off the subject, if needed to.
Calleigh's POV
Calleigh fought to keep her face neutral, as she nodded to the picture. "Prom...That's Jamal Carter..." She laughed bitterly, her resolve crumbling, "Daddy didn't like him much...said he had too much dark skin to be called a white man. Last thing he ever said to me."
She swallowed hard, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Ashamed that she was still hurting, even after 10 years, she turned away from the watchful gaze of the Lieutenant.
"I thi---"He voice came out hoarse, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Wha'd ya say we blow this joint?" She shot at him, flashing him a sassy smile, hoping it would cover the pain, that she would not bother Horatio with.
Horatio smiled back, but Calleigh could tell he had filed the topic in his mind, for another time. He walked over to her, paused, and finally just offered his hand on her shoulders. She could tell by his body language that he wanted to do more, and she shut her eyes, cursing all the rules between a worker and her handsome supervisor.
"I got your suitcases, so I'll meet you in the Hummer." He said softly, and released her shoulders reluctantly.
Calleigh stared after him, as he walked out of her apartment. She just thanked God for Horatio Caine in her life. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her cell phone, and her purse, and with a lingering glance at her 'home-sweet-home', she shut her door and walked down the stairs, out to the awaiting Hummer.
Coming up...Horatio and Calleigh finally meet John and Sally. Will they be able to keep up the fake charade or will the ever-romantic Sally see through them?