Mind of a Fanatic
Chapter 24
"Yeah, he got LWOP, alright," Calleigh said, leaning back on the sofa in the crime lab's break room. "It was a pleasure to know that he can never get out. Garcia really threw the book at him. Remind me to send the good judge a gift basket next Christmas."
Eric opened the refrigerator door, retrieving two soft drinks. He opened them both, giving one to Calleigh. "So, when do you start back?"
"Tomorrow morning," Calleigh said brightly as she took a sip. "I've already let Camden know - he's tickled to be going back to nights. He says 'too many weird things happen' on days – and that's a direct quote by the way."
"Camden needs to lighten up." Horatio leaned against the door frame. "Remember, until Dr. Webber clears you completely, you're on desk duty. Have you tried firing your gun yet?"
"No," Calleigh admitted, sipping her beverage. "Camden was using the range and I really don't know how stable my stance is yet; I may not be able to hold the gun for long." Having to admit such a weakness made her cringe, but Horatio and Eric deserved to know the truth.
"We'll give it a try tomorrow." Horatio said. "It'll help me to know how soon I can expect to be putting you out in the field again," His next words were delivered with a chuckle "I may have to put in for stress leave."
"Hey, we just heard; Dupree got LWOP!" Ryan said as he and Natalia entered. "I'm glad to hear it. You really blew him out of the water."
"Well, it wasn't just me, guys. It was all of you, too. All that work y'all did to find me and every scrap of evidence you collected. I mean, I know you guys are good, but damn – you really pulled out all the stops didn't you?" Calleigh said, the deep affection she held for each of them very clear in her voice. "You never once let me down and I'm thankful for that and all y'all."
"Uh, Calleigh," Natalia said with a glint of mischief in her eyes, "your Scarlett O' Hara is showing."
"What?"
"Never mind," Natalia said with a grin, giving the smaller woman a gentle hug. "I'm just glad to have you back. We can really use you; not to mention the place isn't the same without you."
"Listen, it's been a long and very tense day for you already. Why don't I give you a lift home and we'll talk about the caseload you'll be carrying until you're cleared?" Horatio offered.
Calleigh shook her head. "I can't ask you to drive me home, Horatio. I can take a cab."
He fixed her with a look. "I'm driving you home."
"Good," Eric said, "Then I get to pick you up on my way in."
"Eric, you live in Little Havana and I live in Bal Harbor."Calleigh raised her eyebrows. "I am definitely not on your way in. Don't go out of your way just for me." She frowned darkly at Horatio's – smug, that was the only word for it – expression. "And as for you mister …"
"Cal, what if I told you that I'm dying for a bowlful of your Southern biscuits and gravy? The ride isn't free. I'm expecting breakfast out of it," Eric said playfully, cutting off the rest of her response and grinning at her. "Now, I know you keep all the stuff right on hand all the time. In fact, you already owe me one since I went shopping for you so you wouldn't have stale, moldy bread and peanut butter to eat tonight."
"Ok, I give!" Calleigh laughed the sound ringing joyfully around the small room. God, it was good to be back! "Pick me up an hour before shift and you'll get your payment. Frozen biscuits alright with you, Delko?"
"Perfectly," Eric replied with his own laugh. "I can wait until you're completely recovered for the home made."
"Come on, ma'am." Horatio stepped forward, offering Calleigh his hand. "That's enough for today. I need you refreshed and ready to start processing first thing in the morning."
She took it, standing up. "Why, thank you kind sir."
"If Eric gets biscuits and gravy for driving you to work," He asked smoothly. "What do I get for driving you home?"
"We'll just have to see when we get there …" Calleigh gave him a playful smile and a raised eyebrow. "Won't we?"
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Ryan sat sipping his morning coffee and reading the sports section of the paper. He was so engrossed in the football scores that he didn't hear the door open and two people enter. Suddenly a brown paper lunch bag appeared in front of him. He looked up to see Calleigh and Eric standing over him with expectant looks on their faces.
"Hey Delko, good morning Calleigh, welcome back," he said, eying the bag. "What's this?"
"Shall we say that the proof is in the pudding?" Calleigh said cryptically. "Open it and find out."
He unfolded the bag and reached inside, pulling out a still warm biscuit and a plastic container of a light brown substance with darker brown bits suspended in it. It, too, was still warm. "Uhm, Calleigh, this isn't pudding."
"Of course it's not. Eric told me what you said yesterday about not believing that I can cook. There's your proof; biscuits and sausage gravy," Calleigh said with a smug grin. "Eric ate four. You're lucky that I always make more than enough."
"Thanks! I didn't mean anything by it. I mean, well, I didn't-"
Stifling laughter at his flustered expression, Calleigh said, "Ryan, just because I play with guns for a living doesn't mean I can't be domestic. Besides, you've been in Florida long enough. Have you ever met a Southern born and bred woman who can't cook?"
Ryan grinned back. "I guess not."
"Then you'd better eat up before I make that one my fifth helping," Eric directed with a hungry look at the food. "You snooze, you lose …"
"You've had enough, now out!" Calleigh gave him a gentle shove. "Don't you have fingerprints or something to do?"
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Calleigh loaded a clip into her service pistol and slid the safety off. She held it securely in both hands before bringing it up to point at the target. Her right shoulder spasmed slightly and she lowered the firearm, rolling her shoulder a little.
"Are you ok?" Horatio asked from behind her, his chest touching her back.
"Just a twinge; I forgot how heavy this thing is," she replied, raising the firearm again. She pointed it at the target, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The recoil sent a shockwave up her right arm and into her still healing shoulder. Son of a bitch! She let out a muffled cry and put the gun down, cradling her right arm with her other hand and leaning against Horatio for support. "And that it has a helluva kickback."
"That's enough for today then," he said soothingly as he reached up and began to gently massage her shoulder.
"Who'd have thought that a firearms expert couldn't fire her own gun?"
"You're still healing sweetheart," Horatio's voice was as gentle as his touch. "Just give it a little time."
"I know." Calleigh said resignedly. "I guess whichever CSI brings me firearms evidence is just going to have to do their own test firing for a while."
"And that upsets you," Horatio stated quietly.
"A little; I'm more frustrated, though." She replied, there was something simultaneously comforting and a little frightening in Horatio's perceptiveness. "At least I can do the rest of my job," Calleigh said as Horatio's pager went off.
He looked down at it. "It appears that we have a man, dead in his own home, apparently crushed by a slab of marble."
"Damn, I wish I could go with you …" she said softly, turning to face him.
"So do I; but you have more than enough here to keep you occupied." Horatio said. He put a finger beneath her chin and raised her head so that he could look into her eyes. "Are you going to be alright?"
"Like you said," she replied with a smile. "I've got plenty to keep me busy."
"Good." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Maybe we'll bring you back a little something interesting from the crime scene."
Calleigh laughed, stepping away from him. "Go on; get out and let me get some work done."
Horatio graced her with a rare smile. "Good to have you back, Sweetheart."