Author's Note: The song I've written in to this chapter is called 'Cannonball' and it's by Damien Rice. Might I suggest you give it a listen? It's a really nice song and I think it speaks volumes about Calleigh and Horatio, and everyone dealing with Tim's death, as well as this partiuclar situation I've written. Anyway, thanks for reading!
"Calleigh? Calleigh, I'm talking to you!" Her mental absence from their conversation had only further irritated John Hagen after their already rather uncivil dispute had been intruded upon.

"No, no you aren't, John. You're dictating to me." Currently she could think of no one she hated more then the man in front of her. And to think this conversation had begun as his proposal for another date.

"Jesus, what is it with you, Cal?"

"What?"

"C'mon you'd think you were sixteen the way you behave sometimes. I know you admire Caine and everything but sometimes you look at the guy like he's superman." Everything inside her wanted to launch an attack on John's jealousy, but instead she bit back tears and straightened her posture to deliver her threat.

"Hagen. You are on thin ice." She realized how pathetic her attempt at intimidation must have seemed in her current state of breakdown, but she growled the words as best as she could anyway.

"Ok, ok." He raised his hands gesturing defeat and sighed before pulling her into a hug. "Look, let's just put all this away ok? We're still going out on Friday, right?" It never ceased to amaze her how John could say anything and then promptly pretend he hadn't. He'd have made a good politician.

"Not this time. You and I need a break. A long break. Go, John." She pulled away from his arms and headed down the hall without giving him a chance to catch up.

The fluorescent lights in the women's bathroom stung Calleigh's watery eyes, while she sat alone in the last stall, waiting for all the physical marks of having just cried to fade away. Presently this was her fortress of solitude, after having pushed away from John. She sure as hell didn't want to address the subject of her father, least of all with him. He'd never lived with that kind of family. He'd never know there was no easy answer. No solution in which someone didn't get hurt. Soothing her red eyes with cool douses of water, she examined her face and decided if she touched up her makeup no one would be the wiser. She knew had to get out of here soon, she had someone to see and didn't want to keep him waiting.

Making her way to his office she made sure John had definitely left, all the while she was shaking with anticipation. He'd returned tonight. Horatio had come to the shooting range to see her again. Surely, he'd only put on the idea of his intrusion being work related and quite accidental. There was no doubt in her mind he came to take up her offer from this morning. She couldn't wait to see him; tonight she needed their time together as much as he. After one last deep breath she knocked lightly on the office door and twisted the handle. Locked.

Locked? Without hesitation she took to the hall again, this time for the parking lot. The hummer would be there. He wouldn't leave her, she thought, in her best efforts to shun this creeping feeling of abandonment. At the doors, she went numb when she saw. Never, in all her years of working here, and being one of the last to go home, had the parking lot ever looked so desolate.

Gone. Just gone. It was bad enough he'd just left her in there with John when they were bickering. Even after she'd tried so hard, silently begging him to intercept. But now he left? Without even saying goodnight? It hurt when to curse her fathers name for having been the cause of Hagen's raving. It hurt to curse John's name for having kept her from the man she really needed tonight. But it really stung to curse Horatio's name for not being here. Leaving when she needed him most. Where was her shoulder to cry on? To spend the rest of this evening alone to drowning in her self-worth, as shallow as it seemed, was not fair. The idea that Horatio might not have been there at the end of the day seemed ludicrous. Something must have come up. Something important, very important. Unreliable was just not in his character description. She theorized hundreds of different excuses to convince herself he did not just walk out and held in her breath in an effort to hold back her disappointment. Even so, the sorrow of knowing she was still here alone began to trickle through her veins as she heard the soften echoes of the night janitor's radio through in the halls.

There's still a little bit of your taste,
In my mouth.
There's still a little bit of you laced,
With my doubt.
It's still a little hard to say...
What's going on.
There's still a little bit of your ghost,
Your weakness.
There still a little bit of your face,
I haven't kissed.
You step a little closer each day,
And I can't say what's going on.

Stones, taught me to fly.
Love, taught me to lie.
Life, taught me to die.
So, it's not hard to fall,
When you float like a cannonball.

As she walked the corridors one last time that evening, the building began to feel as burdensome and cold as it had those nights ago. The day Tim...The day she first saw the cracks in the walls built up around Horatio.

There's still a little bit of your song,
In my ear.
There's still a little bit of your words,
I long to hear.
You step a little closer to me,
So close that I can't see
What's going on.

Stones, taught me to fly.
Love, taught me to lie.
Life, taught me to die.
So, it's not so hard to fall,
When you float like a cannon...

Stones, taught me to fly.
Love, taught me to cry.
So, come on courage,
Teach me to be shy.
'Cause it's not so hard to fall,
And I don't want to scare her.
It's not hard to fall,
And I don't want to lose.
It's not hard to grow,
When you know that you just...
Don't know.

It wasn't supposed to be this way this Horatio. With him it was supposed to be easy.