32.

Thunder woke her up.

Muzzily, Schell reluctantly opened her eyes as she listened to the distant rumbling. With a deep breath, after a myriad of aches and pains hit her, she winced and blinked in confusion. She was burrowed under a soft white comforter, her head nestled in unfamiliar pillows. And it wasn't her own bed. She frowned, perplexed, as a flash lit the room in eerie blueish-white light. There was a pause, then thunder rumbled off in the distance. Laying still a moment, she let her senses sharpen, listening to the sounds in the room and then catching the familiar, masculine scent of cologne.

Then she remembered.

Opening her eyes, Schell looked about the room, reluctant to move as every muscle and joint in her body ached with a vengeance.

How long had she been asleep?

It had been daylight when he brought her there. Now it was quite dark, aside from the intermittent flashes of lightning that would momentarily bathe the room in light. Lying still, she listened to the sounds in the apartment and realized she was utterly alone.

With a great deal of effort and groaning from the pain her body was in, Schell managed to sit upright and paused as she swung her legs to the floor. Even that effort left her hanging her head in weakness. How she hated that shaky feeling running through her limbs and gripping her stomach. She just sat still for a long time, perched on the edge of the bed, before her eyes trailed around the room, taking in his nightstand, where her prescriptions and phone sat. Ahead of her was a shut closet door, a bureau with a few personal items on it and the open master bathroom door.

She glanced at the nightstand again and frowned at the digital alarm clock. Was it really reading 1:47AM?

Schell groaned again, then very slowly, taking care for her wounded side and arm, she stood up. Carefully listening, as she got her balance, she realized her neck was hurting abominably, no doubt utterly torqued in the accident. The apartment, and surrounding condo were peacefully quiet, save for the storm and, underlying that, the sound of the nearby surf.

More cognizant now, she moved slowly towards the bathroom,and paused as she flipped the switch. She waited as her eyes adjusted to the light and leaned against the door jamb. Finally, she was able to focus and she spotted her overnight bag on a clothes hamper plus a white box tied with a white ribbon on the basin counter.

Gazing at it a moment, she was keenly aware that this was Horatio's home. His 'presence' was everywhere and it was oddly very comforting. She stood up straight then caught sight of her face in the mirror and groaned out loud. Though the swelling was gone, her cheek was mottled with bruising and the four black stitches above her lip did nothing to make her look the slightest bit appealing. Her white hair was a limp mess and she knew she just had to get out of the sleep rumpled jumper she was wearing and into the shower.

Schell glanced at the box again, seeing a card addressed to her, but waited a moment to search the hospital bag for waterproof bandages. With effort she worked her way out of the sling, flexing her left arm at the elbow and wrist and noticing the dull underlying ache of pain around the break in her collarbone.

She took care of a few urgent needs before she tugged the card loose from the present and opened it. 'Something to help you feel more comfortable,' it read and was signed 'Horatio'. She smiled fondly, and pulled the bow loose. The first thing she saw when she opened the lid, was another card and white tissue. Smiling at it, she opened the second card and read, 'I couldn't decide which one to choose so I got both.'

Schell gasped when she pulled back the tissue. Silk shimmered at her in the light. Two different colours. She pulled out a long, exquisitely feminine nightgown in royal blue, with its matching robe. The other was an opalescent white, reflecting pastel hues of colour in the light. She ran her fingers over the cool, soft fabric and shook her head, smiling gently.

It took a great deal of effort to manage the shower, having to do everything one handed, and by the time she was out, her legs were literally shaking with the effort from the weakness the accident had left her in. Towelling off, she gingerly removed the waterproof bandage over the place in her side where her spleen had been removed and she paused, looking at the line of stitches, her right hand carefully feeling around them. Her eyes trailed a little further as she viewed her side in the mirror, to several nearly white scars that were further down her back.

Old scars...

She heaved a sigh, replaced the bandages and slipped on the white silk gown and robe.

The feeling was sensational, cool and smooth and soft, against a battered body aching with a vengeance and she sighed in relief, only to discover that she couldn't get the sling back on by herself. With a rueful smile, she cleaned up, towelled her hair as best she could before finger combing it. Unwilling to cave in to the weakness trying to claim her, Schell went out into the main living room.

She let her eyes readjust to the dark, before she went to the sliding glass doors and pulled back the curtain a little way. Horatio's condo faced the beach, without an intervening road, like her place had, and the closeness and view were stunning, even in the storm lit night. The surf was creaming white against the darkened beach and the lightning continued to flicker and flash across the sky.

Pausing to watch a moment, she finally turned away and looked around the room. His place was very clean, uncluttered and neat. The layout was modern, with light colour tones to make the place look even bigger. An entertainment center had been built into a wall, with its shutters closed. And, though sparse, there were a few things here and there that were personal touches. Several civic awards presented to him from various communities donned the wall leading towards the bedrooms, and on a small table were family pictures.

She moved over, looking at them in the dim light. Some were of a family; the man resembling Horatio, though with darker hair. He stood with a beautiful woman with long curly-hair, and a boy with an impish grin. Near that was obviously a picture of a much younger Horatio, down-right skinny, standing next to a woman whom Schell deduced to be his mother. There followed a few more pictures of the boy, then a picture of a very young red-haired girl. And finally a picture of another younger, dark-haired man, standing with Horatio, obviously another officer, judging from a badge the man wore on his belt.

Looking back at the picture of the little girl, she idly wondered if it was the same girl Rick Stetler had mentioned.

For a little while Schell continued to wander around the livingroom, getting a 'sense' of the man who lived there. She stopped a long while at a pair of bookcases, reading titles with some fascination. Nearly half were technical manuals on forensics, chemistry and anything connected to the study of criminalistics along with some magazine and periodicals relating to the same subjects. Most were pretty heady reading materials, and said a lot about the man who could read --and understand-- it.

For all the world, if anyone could have seen inside the room, she looked like a ghost drifting aimlessly about, eerily backlit by the flashes of lightning from the storm outside. Her hair and the gown added to the effect.

Sighing, she made her way to the couch, holding her aching arm. A glance at a nearby clock revealed it to be nearing 2:30 in the morning and the thunderstorm was still growling out over the Atlantic. Gratefully she sank into the couch cushions, despising the weakness she was feeling and looked out thought the open curtains at the light show still going outside. If there was one thing she learned early on about Florida, it was that thunderstorms could last literally for hours.

Sitting there watching the storm, her body caved into the effort she had pushed it through and before she realized it, she leaned over to her right and fell asleep.

When it began to rain, at last, Horatio returned home.