Chapter 2

The key slid into the lock with no problem, but she still winced, kind of expecting an alarm to blare at any moment. Nothing happened so she forced herself across the threshold and into the house.

Alex had insisted on driving her home, which had suited Calleigh fine. She'd snuck into the bathroom before she left to check her driver's license and she'd been right to do so. She had a new address.

Bringing herself back to the moment, she slid her hand along the wall until she found a light switch. The hall was immediately bathed in pale light and she took in her surroundings. The hall led into a living room. It held the same ugly green couch she'd always had, which was a small relief. She ducked down a side hall and found a bedroom and bathroom. She inspected the closets and drawers and was much relived to find out that she lived alone.

She coughed and rubbed at her sore chest irritably.

She headed back into the living room and saw a line of photographs hanging on a shelf above the TV. She walked toward it for a closer inspection.

There were pictures of her with family. Most of them seemed familiar, even if the exact memory didn't exist. A more recent picture showed her at a work party of some kind and she picked the picture up and sat down on the couch. She tucked her legs under her, and looked closely.

Speed was beside her, on her left, looking rumpled and grumpy, a picnic table directly behind him. Ryan Wolfe stood beside him, laughing at something that had been said. Alex stood on her right, yelling something off camera, while Calleigh was in the center, smiling happily at whoever was taking the picture.

Her mind whirled. Where was Eric? How had Ryan been hired if Speed was still alive?

A headache pounded directly behind her eyes. Where was she? If this was her life, why did she so vividly remember another? Her mind flashed to earlier that day, sweating in the sun with Horatio.

Was she dead? Was this some kind of purgatory?

Her eyes strayed back to the picture and she saw a familiar stance in the background.

Horatio Caine stood off to the side, hands on hips, looking at something off camera. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. How had she come to Miami-Dade without his help? When had she made Lieutenant?

She pushed away from the couch and paced back and forth across her living room. This was getting her nowhere. Maybe if she went back to the lab…

She grabbed the phone off the wall and quickly dialed a cab.

-----

The receptionist looked up in surprise as she passed by her desk, but Calleigh was in no mood to explain herself. She wasn't even sure why she was here. It was just better to be somewhere somewhat familiar versus the added confusion of her home.

Home. What a funny word. She laughed and bit her tongue to keep the tears at bay.

She headed for the lab and was stopped by the sight of the cleaning crew wiping away the evidence of her accident. She wanted to rush in and demand access to the evidence, try to figure out what the hell had happened to her. But something inside her nagged that she wouldn't find the answers there.

Wait. She was a Lieutenant. She had an office. She headed for the stairs, passing well wishers and odd looks. She took the stairs two at a time and was rewarded with a sign on Horatio's door—her door—proclaiming the office as her own. She grabbed the handle and twisted back and forth but it refused to budge. She pressed her head to the cool glass of the window and promised whoever was above that she'd be good the rest of her life if the door would somehow open.

"Lieutenant Dusquene?"

She turned to find Horatio. His was head cocked to the side, his hands were on hips, and he was watching her curiously. He stepped closer and familiar cologne floated into the air.

"Horatio," she said, pushing away from the door and stepping toward him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and it occurred to her that he had referred to her by rank alone, not her given name.

"I heard about your accident. You are a lucky lady," he said.

"Yes, lucky. Lucky indeed," she said. Her mind was struggling to process this unfamiliarity. She crossed her arms over her chest and coughed roughly. Her body was having trouble keeping up with the rapidness of her thoughts.

He frowned worriedly and fished inside his suit coat for a handkerchief. He offered it to her and took her arm, steering her down the hall.

"You need to sit down."

"My office-,"she said, gesturing pointlessly backward before the coughing reasserted itself.

He propelled her a few doors down. "Go inside and sit on the couch. I'll get you a glass of water," he said.

She moved inside in a zombie-like state, not even bothering to check for similarities. She dropped down onto the sofa as more coughs racked her chest. Tears sprung to her eyes and she cursed whatever was happening to her.

When the spasm ended, she looked up to find him patiently holding out a cup of water for her. She took it and sipped while he tugged an office chair to sit across from her.

Her throat seemed to calm because of the water and she took a minute to look around. It was the same sparse furnishings and dark interior.

"Sorry you couldn't see my office under better circumstances," he said, bringing her eyes back to his face. He was smirking.

She flushed and shrugged. It was becoming pretty obvious that Horatio didn't know her from Adam. "I'm a CSI, Horatio. Natural curiosity."

He tilted his head and looked off toward the window. She wondered if it would be weirder for her to suddenly try to switch to Lieutenant Caine.

"Mmm. Did you lose your keys?"

She shook her head in confusion and a frown marred her features. "What keys?"

"To your office."

Calleigh shrugged. Might as well be honest. "I can honestly say I have no idea where I would have put them."

His head swiveled back toward her. "I'm sure maintenance can help you get back in."

Calleigh stood and the keys in her suit pocket jangled. She groaned aloud, jerked them free, and started at them accusingly in her palm.

Horatio cleared his throat and she looked down at him. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Always the last place you look."

"I'm sorry. This is just not my day," she said, sipping at her water again. She walked toward his desk and sat the cup down with a plop.

"I guess I should be heading for home," she said and started for the door.

Which she could do as soon as she figured out which car was hers. Which wouldn't happen tonight. Her shoulders slumped with defeat and she looked back at him.

"I'm not really sure I should be driving. Is there anyway you could give me a ride home?" she asked.

He blinked at her for a moment, looking slightly startled, but it was quickly hidden beneath a smile. "I'd be happy to."