Frankie didn't dare go around to Horatio's house again. He would never let her into his life if she forced the issue. But she did long for a moment alone with him. She got her chance the day after she told Calleigh about her troubles. She had lost track of time utterly, so immersed she was in her work. When she looked up from the report she was working on, she was surprised to see the lab was quiet, as the graveyard shift were only just beginning to filter through the doors. There was always an hour or so between shifts that left the lab silent, as people wandered in, often via Homicide, or went straight to a crime scene. Looking at her watch, she groaned in realisation she hadn't left her office in nearly four hours. Stretching her tired limbs, she stood to leave. As she made her way through the lab, she noticed the light was still on in Horatio's office. Obviously he was as obsessive about work as she was.

She paused outside the door, unsure whether this was the right thing to do. But she simply had to talk to him. She knocked on the door, and her breath stuck in her throat as she stepped inside. He didn't look away from the computer screen, and so she just stood in silence, watching him. He was tired, the fine lines around his eyes seeming deeper with exhaustion. Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to see who had come in. His eyes widened as he saw her.

"Frankie? Is everything all right?" She looked tired, he thought, as though she had been sleeping recently. Frankie walked around his desk, so they were on the same side. He eyed her worriedly, but she ignored him and perched on the edge of his desk.

"No, Horatio, everything is not all right." She hadn't known what she was going to say when she walked in, but she did now. "You said you didn't want to have ruined our friendship, but you barely talk to me anymore, and you nearly always leave the room if I come in. So I want to know why."

He looked away, seeking a hiding place she thought. Unable to find one, his gaze returned to her, but he didn't look in her eyes, focusing instead on a point on her shoulder. "I just didn't want you to feel awkward. I really am sorry about my behaviour that night."

She touched his hand lightly. "I'm not." This time he did meet her eyes. Those incomparable sapphire eyes were confused, unsure. God help her, but she wanted to kiss him! "I'm not sorry that we kissed, Horatio."

"No?"

"No. But if you are, then we don't need to mention it again." She stood up and turned away, as if to leave, hoping he would stop her. He caught her hand, pulling her back towards him, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her arms went naturally around his waist, and she worried for a second about his leanness. She certainly rarely saw him eat. Then all logical thought went out of the window as he kissed her neck.

Feathering light kisses up her neck, he made his way along her jaw, before capturing her mouth with his. Unable to help herself, Frankie moaned in pleasure as his tongue slowly, seductively, explored her mouth, and slid her hands up his body, revelling in the hard muscle of his back, wishing she could touch his skin. She almost ripped his shirt in her haste to undo a couple of buttons, just enough to be able to slip her hands under the material. It was Horatio's turn to moan as her hands traced a light pattern over his heated flesh, tormenting him with the lightness of her touch. He was kissing her neck again, making her squirm with desire, aching with need. He slid his hands under her top, and stopped kissing her long enough to lift it over her head, letting it fall to the floor carelessly. Then she brought his mouth back to hers, while his hands roamed over her breasts, touching her gently through the lace of her bra. She moaned again, this time in shameless need.

They broke apart at the same moment, at another knock on the door, both fearing such a sudden discovery. Frankie hastily pulled her top on, while Horatio tried, and failed in her opinion, to look as though he hadn't been about to have sex on his desk. She turned away, unable to face anyone, sure that their deeds would be written plainly across her face.

It was the night shift supervisor, coming to ask if there were any ongoing cases he needed to know about. While Frankie liked Jim, she was in no mood to see him now, but she wasn't going to leave the room unless Horatio told her to. He managed to sound a lot more professional than she was sure she could have, and quickly got rid of the other man. Jim sounded a bit bemused, but not as though he suspected anything, and she heard the door click closed behind him.

Horatio came to stand behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her back against him. She leaned willingly into him, resting her head back on his shoulder. "We can't do this here," he murmured and she shivered at the sheer sexiness of his voice. "Please, Frankie, I need you tonight. Come home with me."

She turned to look at him, and was struck by the open desire in his eyes. She was lost at that moment, she knew, and all she could do was nod in agreement. He grabbed his jacket, and linked arms with her as they walked through the lab. If anyone saw them, she didn't notice, and he didn't care. This probably wasn't the best plan, Frankie thought, but she didn't care. She needed him just as much as he needed her. She was drunk on desire, on her need for him, for his touch and his kisses. If this was a bad plan, she'd deal with it in the morning. Tonight was not a night for logic; it was a night for passion to reign. Logic could wait until the morning.


Frankie watched him sleep, running her hands through his soft red hair. The lines of stress and exhaustion disappeared when he slept, leaving him looking years younger. He was lying across her, pinning her to the bed with one arm, and she relished his weight on top of her. It had been the most glorious night of her life. Heaven only knew what persuaded his wife to let him get away. He had made love to her for hours, taking her to heaven again and again. They had coupled with a wild, frantic passion first, before he spent hours exploring every inch of her body, kissing and teasing her until she was begging for release. Then he had sweetly and gently taken her again, holding her as though she was made of the most delicate china and could break at the slightest provocation. She had never felt so cherished in her life. She snuggled deeper into his embrace and felt herself begin to drift off to sleep, safe and secure in his arms.


Horatio awoke as a bolt of sunlight struck his face. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he stared with awe at Frankie sleeping peacefully beside him. Gently brushing a strand of hair off her forehead, he watched her sleep with a sad smile. He dropped a kiss on her cheek, and slid out of the bed, heading for the shower. As the hot water washed over him, he closed his eyes, wondering what the hell he was doing. He had, like every other man in the MDPD, been captivated by Frankie from the first day, and like every other man, he had been deeply attracted to her.

While she was obviously very beautiful, he had been most taken by her clear grey eyes. She telegraphed her feelings clearly, and anyone who knew her a little could read her like a book. When she was in a good mood, the whole lab knew, and was filled with her laughter. When she was angry, everyone knew, and stayed out of her way. Her eyes had ensnared him from the start, more so than ever last night when they had darkened with desire to the colour of smoke, losing their clarity, but becoming even sexier than he could have imagined.

A sound made him turn around, and he smiled as Frankie stepped into the shower with him. He was fascinated by the strange expression on her face: it was as though she was fighting the urge to giggle at the same time as looking as attractive as possible. She stepped willingly into his arms, pulling his head to meet hers in a fiery kiss. Her skin felt unbearably soft against his, and he pushed his doubts and worries to the back of his mind, concentrating instead on giving the woman in front of him all the pleasure he could.