Title: Betrayal

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The characters except Rosalind and obvious additions for the plot are not mine. I wish they were. I don't even watch the TV show anymore, so this is based on the original (read that season one) incarnation of those characters that aren't mine, as well as development I've added to them for the sake of the series. I am making no monetary profit from this story.

Series: This is the 22nd in the Fearful Symmetry series. Fearful Symmetry, Can't Fight This Feeling, Gold Medals, Surprises, Honeymoon, Blackout, the Hopes and Fears, Anniversary, Framed, Sight for Sore Eyes, Trials and Tribbulations, Premonition, Do No Harm, the CSI Who Loved Me, Complications, Yet to Be, More Deadly, Photo Finish, the Caine Mutiny, Calleighella, Swan Song, and Betrayal.

A/N: This story is to be updated on no particular timetable, just as I have time and inclination. Time you can't affect, as I have several other irons in the fire, many of which take priority over this. Inclination you definitely can affect. I already know the story and the ending; writing it down is purely for the benefit of readers. If you want more, say so.

(H/C)

"No fellow can be on the job all the time."

Samuel Hopkins Adams

(H/C)

The sound of the door opening woke Calleigh from the half-dream to the reality, and she sighed in contentment. Well-known footsteps in two versions crossed the living room to the couch, and she smiled sleepily at her family as she pushed herself up on one elbow, her blanket falling away. "Hey."

"Mama!" Rosalind scrambled up onto the couch and into Calleigh's lap.

"How are you feeling?" Horatio bent over the couch to kiss Calleigh on the forehead.

"Much better, just still a little tired. I'm fine, Horatio. It was just the bug." She hugged Rosalind. "How was your day, Angel?" Rosalind launched into an enthusiastic description of what had happened at daycare, and Calleigh and Horatio smiled at each other. It was good to see Rosalind interactive and full of life again. She had gotten sick the previous Saturday morning and had been pretty miserable most of the weekend. Rosalind's version of being miserable, like her father's, was to retreat into a shell and suffer in silence. Calleigh's version was to stubbornly deny anything was wrong, a tactic that had led to her argument with Horatio after Rosalind had been generous enough to pass the virus along to her mother Sunday night.

Horatio removed his gun and badge, locking them securely in their drawer in the desk. He returned to sit on the edge of the couch, waiting patiently for Rosalind to wind down. As soon as Rosalind ran out of breath, he smoothly stepped into the gap. "I talked to Dana at daycare. She said several of the kids have been out sick the last week. Same symptoms, a fever and cough for a day or so. That's definitely where she picked it up."

"And passed it on," Calleigh sighed. "Did those bullet casings from the beach shooting get processed? What about the Rodriguez case?"

"We got along just fine, Cal. The beach shooting is solved, and the trial for Rodriguez got a continuance, like I figured it would. Anything with Tolbert as a defense attorney isn't going to trial on the first four versions of the court date, at least."

"Still, what if it had?"

Horatio refused to have the whole debate again in retrospect, having already been through this last night and this morning. "If it hadn't, you probably still wouldn't have been called today. Anyway, the DA could have just changed the order of witnesses. It's not a crime to be sick, Calleigh."

"I wasn't that sick." She met his quirked eyebrow with a defiant stare, then relaxed, laughing. "Okay, maybe I was sick, but I'm feeling a lot better now. I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow morning."

"We'll see." Even if her fever was gone, Horatio wanted further observation and evidence.

Rosalind abruptly slid down her mother's side and off the couch. "Hope? Kitty, kitty, kitty." She bounded down the hall in search of her favorite playmate.

"She seems fully recovered, at least," Calleigh said. "She had me worried for a bit."

"Kids get viruses, Cal. It goes with the territory."

"Oh, right, and you weren't worried."

He grinned at her. "Guilty as charged. You're worth worrying about, both of you." He shifted position over to the recliner and kicked his shoes off, an action that caught her attention immediately. He usually bent and untied them.

"Long day?"

"Hard one. The beach shooting was revenge for cheating, and it was a tough interview."

"You mean her husband killed her?"

"No, the other man's wife did."

Calleigh shook her head. "Why not go after her own husband, too?"

Horatio shook his head. "Most criminals don't specialize in logic." He shivered slightly, remembering the interview where he had broken her. "She just kept saying, 'He is mine.' The way she said it made him sound like property, not a person. Then, when she finally broke, she also confessed to two other murders, one in process but without strong clues, one in the dead file. Both of those people had just looked at him, or she thought they did, anyway. To her mind, it was absolutely justified. She was proud of it."

Calleigh shivered herself. "I see what you mean about the day. Do you think she'll plead insanity?"

"I don't know. One of those people with no moral brakes, but is that insanity? She knew what she was doing." He rolled his head from side to side, trying to release the tension in his shoulders, and Calleigh got up and came around behind the chair to work out the knots for him. He closed his eyes and leaned back, and she was just starting to feel him relax when Rosalind scampered back down the hall with Hope.

"Let's eat!" she suggested.

Horatio's eyes snapped open again. "I'm sorry, Angel. I lost track of the time. Lie back down, Cal. I'll fix it."

"I'm fine, Horatio, and you're tired. Just sit there for a while and unwind."

He pulled away from her hands and stood up. "No. You're just getting over being sick. I'll help, at least."

She grinned at him. "Compromise?"

"Compromise." They shook hands on it, and Rosalind eagerly preceded them into the kitchen.

Calleigh was glad to find her appetite returning, thinking of all the work waiting for her back at CSI. She absolutely had to go into work tomorrow. Rosalind was hungry, too, and seemed completely back to her usual self. After the meal, they settled into a comfortable huddle on the couch, three people and one cat, and watched a movie, Beauty and the Beast, by Rosalind's request. She loved the horse. Calleigh kept finding her eyelids drooping, though, and when Horatio stood up, she jolted into wakefulness. "I wasn't asleep," she objected.

He smiled at her, not believing it for a minute. "Rosalind is. I'll get her ready for bed." He headed back for the nursery with their sleeping daughter in his arms, and Calleigh closed her eyes again, listening to his footsteps. How was it possible to love footsteps? Because they were his.

Her husband. Her daughter. They were hers, not as property, but as treasure. She still found herself wondering sometimes how she could have possibly wound up so happy, considering her childhood. How many times had she wondered as a girl if anything would ever go right, if there actually were good people, if life really was worth living? Too many to count. All of her childhood – except one person – had been a waking nightmare, but somehow, she had ended up living the dream. "Wouldn't change anything," she mumbled sleepily, drifting off again.

"What was that?" Horatio materialized at her side.

"I was just thinking, I wouldn't change anything about my life. Not even the first part. Not since it led me to this."

He kissed her. "I wouldn't either, Calleigh. Now, let's get you to bed." He started to pick her up, and she squirmed free in protest.

"I can walk, Handsome, and you're as tired as I am. You actually worked today."

"So did you."

"Hardly," she retorted, still somewhat annoyed at her weakness.

"You worked on getting well. You need to be sure finish the job, too." He didn't try to pick her up again, though. "Come on, Cal, let's go to bed." Side by side, they walked down the hall.

(H/C)

The alarm clock buzzed like an annoyed bumblebee, and Calleigh hit it blindly, trying to silence the offensive instrument. Just in the middle of a good dream, too. She burrowed back under the covers and was drifting off again when a thought struck. Why hadn't Horatio turned off the clock as he usually did? That thought was a better call to action than the alarm had been, and she opened her eyes, committing herself to the day, and sat up. The other side of the bed was empty, but she couldn't hear the shower running. "Horatio?" No answer. She stood up, wrapped herself in her robe, and slipped on her house shoes.

Rosalind was still asleep, but she was beginning to make the vague musical sounds occasionally that Calleigh knew meant she would wake up shortly. No sign of Horatio, though. She checked the bathroom, but the open door was its own message. Finally, she found him in the living room, curled on the couch in his robe, restlessly asleep. "Morning, Handsome. What are you sleeping on the couch for? Got a guilty conscience?" Her light tone shattered into understanding as she bent over to kiss him. He was running a fever.

He opened his eyes, flinching against the early sunlight through the glass doors that led to the beach, and Calleigh shifted slightly, blocking it for him with her body. "Morning." The greeting broke down into coughing, and he smiled weakly at her accusing stare. "I think Rosalind gave me her bug, too," he admitted as soon as he could speak again.

"Horatio, what are you doing out here? You ought to be in bed. You at least ought to have a blanket or something."

His eyes fell. "You needed your sleep. You're just getting over it yourself."

"So you decided to freeze out here all night just so you wouldn't disturb me. Horatio Caine, sometimes you can be absolutely infuriating." She stalked back to their bedroom and opened the closet, fetching the blanket she had used yesterday from the stack of spares. Coming back down the hall, she could hear him coughing again. "How long have you been out here?" She tucked the blanket warmly around him, her gentle movements completely at odds with her annoyed tone.

"Since midnight. Thanks, Calleigh." He sank back into the couch, closing his eyes again, and Calleigh went into the kitchen, her anger easily redirecting to herself as she fixed a cup of hot tea. He had been up most of the night, and she hadn't even missed him. She really must have been sleeping soundly. Just getting over being sick or not, she should have noticed sooner.

Rosalind's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Mama? Dada?"

"Just a minute, Angel," she called. She marched back into the living room just as Horatio was sitting up, pushing the blanket aside. "Horatio, if you get up, I'll shoot you. Here, take this." She handed him the cup of tea along with two Tylenol, glaring at him until he reluctantly settled back into the cushions.

"Mama?"

"Coming." Calleigh hurried down the hall into the nursery. "Good morning, Angel." She picked her daughter up out of the crib and started getting her dressed.

"Morning," Rosalind sang. "Dada?"

"He's sick, Rosalind. Like you were a few days ago. We need to just let him rest, okay?"

"Okay." Rosalind's look of concern was so much like Horatio's that Calleigh had to laugh. She set her daughter on the floor, and Rosalind tiptoed down the hall with exaggerated care, almost like a cartoon character, obviously trying not to disturb her father.

Her father was sitting up on the couch again, looking like he was debating whether getting up the rest of the way would be worth facing Calleigh's ire. "Good morning, Angel."

Rosalind hesitated in the middle of tiptoeing into the living room. "Not asleep?"

"Do I look asleep? Come here." Horatio held his arms out to her and promptly went into another coughing fit. Rosalind came across to climb onto his chest, but he saw the concern in the blue eyes. "I'm fine, Angel. Just a little virus. I'll be as good as new tomorrow, same as you are. Maybe even before then. In fact, I'm feeling better already."

Calleigh sighed. "Rosalind, can you help me out here?"

Rosalind perked up instantly, looking up at her mother. She had a helpful nature, something that Horatio and Calleigh both credited the other for contributing to her personality. "Okay."

"I need to take a shower and get ready for work, Angel, and Dada needs to lie there and not get up and pretend nothing's wrong. I need you to watch him, okay? I'll leave the bathroom door open, and if he moves, you come tell me. Understand?"

"Yes," Rosalind said. "Then breakfast?"

"Right. Then breakfast. This will just take a few minutes. You watch him, Rosalind, and don't let him move."

"That's not fair," said Horatio, sitting up straighter, and Rosalind pushed a small hand into his chest.

"Down, Dada!" The imperative had the ring of a miniature Calleigh, making both of Rosalind's parents laugh.

"Life's not fair," Calleigh reminded him. "Stay, Horatio. Back in a few minutes, Rosalind." She hurried through the shower and getting dressed as much as she could. Normally, one of them would fix breakfast while the other showered, but today obviously wasn't normally. She snatched the comb through her hair quickly and exited the bathroom to find Rosalind still on duty and Horatio lying back on the couch, firmly pinned. "Thank you, Angel. Now, I'll fix breakfast for us. Do you feel like eating anything, Horatio?" Having had the virus herself, she doubted it. It wasn't a stomach flu, but the fever certainly seemed to burn out appetite. Come to think of it, in retrospect, he hadn't eaten much last night, which she had put down to mere tiredness.

"No, thanks, Calleigh. I'm not hungry."

"That's okay. Watch him for me, Rosalind." She worked around the kitchen quickly and efficiently, enjoying the occasional outbursts from the other room. If Horatio so much as shifted position, Rosalind chewed him out for it. "Okay, Angel, come and eat."

Rosalind came to the open archway into the kitchen. "Dada?"

"We'll just listen for him. Come on, you need to get ready for the day." Rosalind trotted the rest of the way into the kitchen, and Calleigh fed both of them in turn, keeping one ear cocked to the living room. She figured that Horatio would settle down and resign himself to being sick once they had left, but at the moment, deprived of helping her with all the morning routines, he was feeling guilty. Nothing quite bothered him as much as responsibilities he felt he wasn't meeting.

"Leave the dishes. I'll do them later," he called as they finished eating.

"Not a chance." She quickly rinsed them and filled the dishwasher, then went back into the living room to find Horatio once more pinned by his personal watchdog.

"Okay, Rosalind, time to go."

Rosalind looked back at her reluctantly. "Who watch?"

Horatio chuckled and went into another coughing fit. "See what you've started, Cal?"

"He'll be okay, Rosalind. He just needs to rest today, and once we're gone, he'll drop the front and admit it." She gathered her own badge and gun.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Horatio asked.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you. And all because you made me stay home yesterday and not be a stubborn idiot and try to work. You remember that, Horatio."

He sighed. "I won't do anything unless I start feeling better."

"You won't do anything at all. I'm taking your car keys, and if I even see your shadow at CSI, I'll bring you back home after picking up Rosalind and let her watch you the rest of the day." She bent over to kiss him, noting worriedly that the Tylenol didn't seem to have made any difference yet. His fever seemed higher than before. "Drink plenty of fluids and take it easy today, Horatio. That's an order." She was quoting his own words from the morning before, and he obviously recognized them. "Equal ground, no discrimination. If I have to stay home when I'm sick, so do you."

"Fair enough," he agreed, finally settling back and admitting weakness. He really did look like he felt lousy. "I'll be fine, Calleigh. About the cases, be sure . . ."

She silenced the instructions by kissing him again. "Horatio, whatever happens at CSI today, I am absolutely capable of dealing with it myself."

He grinned at her. "I have no doubt." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "See you tonight."

"See you tonight. Come on, Rosalind."

Rosalind still hesitated for a minute, then turned back to her father. "Stay there, Dada!" she said firmly. Laughing, Calleigh took her daughter's hand and went out to face the day.