Author's Note 1: Well here's the next chapter. In my original plan for the story, I had planned to do it in 15 chapters but it would seem that my 'well-laid' plans have as usual been tossed aside by circumstances. This chapter is a bit shorter than the others but the good news is that I'm already working on the next one. PMT pre-menstrual tension. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if possible. Cheers!

Disclaimer: Well these characters really don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them and toying around with them. Christian and Isabella do belong to me but the others belong to CBS, J. Bruckheimer, A.Zuiker and the various other CSI:M producers.

Precipitous Problems

2 cell-phones quickly came out followed by an intermittent click.

"You carry a torch?" asked Marisol, amazed, directing the glow from Bella's phone onto Horatio.

He shrugged, "Standard issue. I'll be back. I need to check on the kids and Susie," the light cleaved cleanly through the dark.

"Miami and power cuts. Talk about the dark ages. You kn- Bella! Behave!" hissed Christian, feeling a groping hand. Isabella and Marisol both giggled.

"Are you sure that's Bella, Christian?" asked Marisol slyly.

"Ladies, this is really not fair. I must protest," Christian touched a button on his phone so that it lit up again.

"Kill it Henry. We could rape you right now, you know?" Marisol burst out laughing at Bella's mock-sinister tone, "And why in God's name are you whispering?" asked Bella in a loud voice.

Christian shrugged his shoulders. "Well if you do I'm lucky enough to have Horatio here who is the best CSI in Miami- Bella! Really now that's enough!" exclaimed Christian stepping back after he felt something ghosting past him against his navel.

"What the hell? That wasn't me. You know for an FBI agent you sure can be chicken! Mari?" Isabella flashed her phone in Marisol's direction. Nothing. "Marisol?"

"Bella, having two females in the dark, groping me is not something one needs courage for."

"Marisol!?" Bella turned around frantically, flashing her phone wildly.

"Just getting my phone from the other room. Would you relax Isabella!" A loud bump was heard, followed by Marisol yelping out a curse.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine," she muttered.

Christian pulled Isabella close, and kissed her, his hands caressing her back, "So it'd seem that you like being groped in the dark?" he asked Isabella closing the distance between their lips again for a longer more prolonged lip-lock.

The lights came back to life and Isabella and Christian broke apart as Horatio came through the door, "You guys all right? The party is wrapping up now, the kids are leaving."

"Yeah we're fine," answered Isabella, she glanced around her, "Marisol is just…" Bella waved her hand in the direction of the other rooms.

"Christian, could I ask you to give me a hand with moving some of the heavy stuff? We're supposed to have another wet night, so I just want to bring some of the stuff in."

"Sure Horatio." Christian followed Horatio out of the apartment.

Isabella wandered off to find Marisol. "Mari?" She peered into the room filled with presents – No sight of Marisol.

"Oh hell!" Isabella saw pink, "Marisol! Marisol?" she called urgently, kneeling down to the prostate form on the ground, hidden by the falling bedspread and the pile of gifts. There was a pool of water to her friend's right, in the middle of which was her cell-phone. Isabella felt everything stop including her own breathing until she had turned Marisol around onto her back and felt the shallow rise and fall of Marisol's chest against her palm. She noticed Marisol's head was bleeding a little. "Christian!"

"What Isabella?" he asked concerned, walking into the room, rolling his sleeves up. "Oh no! What happened?"

"I don't know," replied Bella quietly watching him take her pulse and check her pupils. She raised Marisol's legs slightly.

"It's going to be all right babe. C'mon," He lifted Marisol up, cradling her against his chest. He staggered into the front lounge and laid her down gently on the couch, again raising her legs slightly.

Susie walked out of the kitchen. "Oh my god! What happened?"

"I just found her on the floor."

"There's a doctor on the floor below. Should I get him?" Bella nodded at her. Susie ran out the door, "Madison, go help your Uncle please?" said Susie to Madison who promptly turned around to go back up the stairs.

"Is this what she'll look like?" whimpered Bella to Christian, turning away from the ashen figure but keeping her hand on Marisol's forehead.

Christian didn't know what to say, he just put his arm around and pulled her close to him.

"What's going on?" asked Horatio coming through the door, arms laden with stuff. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. "What happened?" he asked, there was no trace of emotion. "Isabella? Christian?"

Susie hurried in with her neighbour, from the floor below, who was a doctor. Isabella rapidly explained what she had seen while he took Marisol's blood pressure. He released the cuff. There was silence in the room, when he put the stethoscope against her chest, as if everyone was trying to hear her pulse too. He started to clean the re-opened cut on her forehead.

Her eyes fluttered open and a redhead cherubic face floated into her line of sight, which was now being blocked by something bright. Why were there so many faces on the ceiling? Turn the damn thing off, she thought huffily, wanting to kick Horatio for shining his damn torch into her eyes, what was wrong with the man? When it continued to blind her, her hand gripped the first thing it came in contact with – Christian's shirt. She gripped it hard and pulled, only to hear a rippling sigh around her. The light switched off and she blinked as her eyes readjusted and focused. She saw a face that she completely did not recognise and her mind blanked for an explanation as to why she was lying down. "What happened?" she murmured struggling to sit up, her hand going up to touch the new dressing on her head.

Horatio felt everything within him clench when he saw her grab Christian's shirt, wishing it had been his shirt in her hands, wishing he was the one kneeling by her side. His feet seemed dissolved in the floor; he hadn't been able to move. He felt better. Breathing suddenly became a lot easier. He saw the doctor give a quick nod to everyone that she was going to be ok.

"You fainted Marisol," chirped Madison. Susie blushed at her daughter's subtlety.

"What?" she succeeded in sitting up this time.

This time the doctor spoke. He explained she had fainted, "May I see your pills?" he asked politely.

"Sure," Marisol replied puzzled, "They're in the next room. I remember taking them with some water. Felt a bit dizzy, and then well, I guess I must have passed out," Isabella stood up to fetch them. Marisol glanced at Horatio who had been remarkably silent all this time, his head cocked intuitively to one side, deep blue staring calmly into her darkened hazel ones. She couldn't make out anything from his face or his eyes. Maybe it was just the light and her eyes playing tricks.

"Miss Delektorsky, you do know that you can't take aspirin during your chemotherapy?" came the curt question.

Marisol nodded. "Of course."

"Thank-you," he said to Isabella taking the box of pills from her hand.

Marisol ducked her head in embarrassment as all eyes turned towards her pill-box. "The light-blue one," she mumbled.

The doctor nodded. He held the pill up to the light and examined it for a moment. He sighed, "I'm not sure why you were prescribed this. It contains ibuprofen."

Marisol looked puzzled, "I was…I was given it for a fall I had yesterday. What's wrong?"

"Ibuprofen has similar properties to aspirin and cannot be taken during chemo. They're both Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs."

"Oh," she said, understanding, "I see."

"How are you feeling now, Marisol?" asked Madison and the Doctor simultaneously.

There was general laugh that took the edge off the moment. "I feel fine," she replied light-heartedly.

"Good. Well then, I can't do anything more other than take you off these. There shouldn't be any more side effects. You've only had around three, right?"

Marisol nodded, "Great! One less pill for me to worry about," she said with a smile, "Thank-you Doctor…"

"Rawlins. Doctor Rob Rawlins," he shook her proffered hand.

There was a round of thanks for the good Doctor who was offered some cake and leftovers. He declined; saying he had to meet up with some colleagues for dinner in an hour. Horatio watched Isabella fuss over Marisol, while Madison wandered up to Marisol and began to chat with her. He left it at that, not wanting to overcrowd and make Marisol more anxious. He walked Dr. Rawlins back downstairs, thanking him sincerely for his work.

When he got back upstairs, he saw Marisol waiting for him in the shadows outside the door.

"Hi."

"Hi. How're you feeling?" he tried to muster as much cheerfulness as possible.

"I'm feeling fine. How are you feeling?" she took hold of his hand and pulled him gently towards her. She felt his hand tremble slightly when their skins made contact.

"Sure you're feeling ok, Sweetheart?" His eyes lingered on her forehead.

She nodded noticing he wasn't making direct eye contact, "What's wrong? I'm feeling great, promise," She put her hand on his cheek.

He cleared his throat, lowering her hand, "Nothing's wrong."

"Horatio…"

He caught her eye-roll at him, "I'm just glad you're ok," he brushed her cheek with his lips before pulling away from her.

"If you say so," she muttered under her breath. She followed him back inside figuring that this was probably going to be one of those moments where she had no chance in hell of penetrating his mental armour.

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"So you want to order now or wait for them?" asked Marisol, sitting down at the table for four.

"How about we start with drinks, and order when they get here?" replied Christian.

"Sounds great."

He nodded at her before turning to catch a waiter's attention. Christian ordered a Scotch, Marisol played it safe with water.

"Dance, Christian?" He shook his head, "Come on, you know you want to," she teased.

"Well aren't you the expert arm-twister," he replied amused, "Ok, why the hell not? Bella's not around to tease-"

"-And you can impress her and the teacher at your next class," finished Marisol for him.

"Marisol, don't you just do a lovely job convincing! You're sure you're up for it?" he pointed to her knee and her head.

"Pssh…this is so not going to affect anything." she said flippantly, standing up, "Although you're going to have to give me a minute in the mother-ship. Hair…no way I can dance with it up, like this."

Christian nodded and followed her with his eyes to make sure she reached the restroom in one piece. Marisol walked up behind him a few minutes later and surprised him by holding out her hand to him. Christian accepted her hand with an embarrassed smile.

"Just relax, Christian, it's only me, not Bella," He nodded shyly as they walked arm in arm to the semi-crowded dance floor. "Rock and roll?" she asked clasping her fingers tightly against his cupped palms. He nodded again. They began to dance and Marisol immersed herself completely in the dance: twirling, bending, flicking, trying to make Christian feel comfortable with a different partner. She was a natural and able to guide both their rhythms and momentum. They finished wrapped tightly in each other. He was more out of breath than her.

"Wow," was all he managed to utter.

Marisol smiled, "You're great. I don't know how Bella thinks you have two left feet!"

Christian blushed, "I guess I've improved," he said meekly.

Marisol laughed. "Again?"

"How about rumba?" he asked with confidence.

Marisol felt awful for shooting him down this early, especially since she wasn't giving him a sincere reason and because he was right. "Well the beat's a bit too fast for a rumba. How about cha-cha?"

"If you lead…"

"Nope, you're going to lead, Christian," she said firmly, taking hold of his hand and putting her other hand on his shoulder.

After the first turn, he trod on her toes. "I'm so sorry, Marisol."

"Don't worry. Just let it come."

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For the second time that day Horatio felt everything within him clench as he saw Marisol pull Christian firmly against her, their noses practically touching before breaking apart again.

"Why am I not surprised?" moaned Bella spotting Marisol and Christian dancing. "I swear, Horatio, she could be concussed and unconscious but she'd still be able to dance! And surprise, surprise she's not doing the rumba! I think this is our table," Horatio raised a questioning eyebrow, pulling out a chair for Isabella, she was clearly surprised, "Thanks,"

He nodded his head to say it was nothing, "You're clearly not acquainted with Marisol and dancing." He shook his head. Isabella smiled and proceeded to explain.

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A couple of hours later, Horatio and Marisol were driving home.

She leaned forward and crossed her arms against herself, staring ahead through the rain, "Don't you think it's amazing?"

"What is Marisol?" he sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to be a question about 'them'.

"The rain…The effect from the street lamps: look how the fluorescent orange highlights every single drop and the suddenly it's dark again, it's exciting! The transition from the dark just emphasises each one. The drops look like little daggers, so pointed and pure and…OH! Sorry I forgot you're the one driving," she smiled wryly at him.

He smiled back; it was a proper smile, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. One that made her want to kiss him.

There was a long silence.

"I have a spare cell somewhere in my study. We can see if your SIM card still works,"

Marisol nodded the drumming rain soothing her. She pressed back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Her head was beginning to ache a little. She felt stifled because she could feel his gaze on her and concern radiating from him.

"Now what?" she murmured, her eyes opening as she felt the car slow down, instinct telling her it wasn't a traffic light. He had pulled up to the kerb.

"You're freezing, Marisol," he shrugged off his jacket and offered it to her to slip into.

She realised that he was right. She hadn't noticed it but her body's reactions clearly indicated she was feeling cold. "Thank-you," she pulled the lapels tightly across her neck, "Horatio, what is it? You haven't been yourself these past couple of hours."

He gave her his best, "I have no idea what you mean,' look. His insides were churning, sweaty fingers slid off the car-keys in the ignition.

"Ok, Mr. 'deep-in-thought',"

Horatio sighed, "It's just that I've never seen you eat so much,"

Marisol's eyes widened with surprise, "Excuse me?"

"I've never seen you eat so much," he repeated, thoroughly amused by her reaction.

"Earth to Horatio Caine?" she wanted to open his head up and make sure he wasn't being inhabited by aliens. Right now he seemed more erratic than a woman going through PMT on a bad day! She had never seen him like this and was unsure on how to handle it. She saw his eyebrows dart up in mock indignation and laughed. He was obviously trying very hard to distract her and it was working, "I was hungry."

"You don't say, Sweetheart, you don't say," he chuckled, revving up the engine and pulling back onto the road.

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They were in the study and there was tension. She didn't know if it was her hormones, his hormones, the stress of the past couple of days or his conflicting signals that was to blame for the heavy atmosphere between them. It was just hanging there and it was irritating her to no end. The rest of the drive had been fine, they had even joked about the umbrella again, and he had made her promise that she would let him get an umbrella for her, but then when they entered the house it was like they had been both been doused with some heavy duty cement. She understood that he wasn't a very open, forthcoming person but she wasn't like that, and the fact that she was waiting…waiting for her what? Her mind chided, it's not like he would make the first move, he was so incredibly shy sometimes. Her patience with herself for not doing anything was also thinning but she knew that given she had never seen him like this before, 'delicately,' was probably the only way to do it.

He sighed and slid the back panel of the phone until it clicked into place. "I guess we better charge this up,"

Oh well here goes she thought, deciding to take the lead before she went nuts. She lowered herself onto his lap. "What is up with you today, Lieutenant?" She brushed his cheek lightly, "Did I do or say something?"

He felt her hand slipping away. Something inside him screamed at his mind that he would not allow her to feel this way. He was not going to let this slip away. His hand roughly clasped hers, "No. Marisol-"

He kissed her fingertips,

"-you've-," kiss,

"-done-" kiss,

"-nothing-" kiss,

"-wrong-" kiss,

Doubt flickered in her eyes. The pleading in his eyes spoke more than words.

"Trust me, Marisol?"

There was an aura of fear that all but shimmered around him. Marisol lost herself in the blue eyes that had widened into navy orbs; it was impossible to tear herself away from their inky depths. Why did the man have to have such sexy eyes? she thought irritated. She struggled with her patience, "You know I trust you, Horatio!" she answered light-heartedly tapping his lips delicately with a finger. It was like soothing a child; she saw and felt the relaxation in his body posture. There was still something there, hidden, at the back of his mind, she could sense it, but she left it alone. He had asked her to leave it alone. He hadn't avoided the question, at least not directly. He just wasn't ready to talk about it. She let her hand remain within his

"You're not mad at me are you?" again there was this beseeching tone in his voice. He reminded her of a child so much right now that to imagine him, as the head of the Miami crimelab was nigh impossible.

"Mad at you? WHAT is going on? I'm not mad at you!"

He wished he could touch her in the same carefree way that she was able to touch him – without fear. His fear held him back, that if he did she would shatter and be gone from him. Yet he wanted to do so, so much now, here she was sitting on him for pity's sake! He gave in and allowed his lips to ghost lightly over hers. He placed his right hand hesitatingly on her cheek, she leaned into his palm; his thumb stroked the corner of her lips, his other fingers caressed her lower jaw while his left arm curled around her waist. His mind again noted the fact that she fitted so perfectly within him, completing and complementing him. She pressed her forehead against his and watched his eyes close.

"I'm sorry," the words could barely be heard. Her eyes moving straight to his lips to make sure he had spoken. His eyes were still closed. She could barely feel him breathe. The only thing telling her he was alive was the thud of his heart against her hand. She felt terrible about shouting the last words at him, could her tone have been any more of a contradiction to the words? "I'm sorry about today, Marisol, my Darling…I should never have forced you to go to the hospital yesterday, something worse could have happened. I really shouldn't have…" he trailed off. His mouth was dry and there were no words left to tell her how he felt, everything in him was in turmoil.

Marisol felt a wave of relief sweep over her, quickly followed by the desire to slap him. Damn him and his guilt complex! Marisol jerked her head away from him and stood up. His eyes were still closed. His head sagged with misery as she broke away from him. He felt his form being jerked out his chair by his collar. By the time he struggled to open his eyes he found himself being hauled across the room by his collar. His body was too surprised to launch much resistance against her efforts. She dumped him on the couch in the corner of his study. She pushed him roughly again so that he was prostrate and pinned his hands down with her own and straddled him. Her eyes flashed emerald green, "Horatio you've got to quit this complex you've got of shouldering other people's responsibilities and blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong. It's going to kill you one day!"

"It's my job," he murmured before realising what he said.

"I am not your job," she said quietly, anger iridescent in her eyes. She was doing everything she possibly could to restrain herself from hitting him and letting her passionate, wild side get the better of her. Logic told her to get out of there now! He had just said that which she had feared all along but her heart was hurting and it couldn't believe he had just said that. She was hoping it was a mistake but it was numbing all the same.

"Marisol, I didn't mean that," he tried to free his hands but they were lodged firmly beneath her knees, on either side of him. The sparks in her eyes warned him to shut up. The damage caused was irreparable – Oh God! What had he done?

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AN2: Aspirin makes blood thinner and doesn't agree with chemo because metastatic cells can be transported further around the body from the tumor site. Generally speaking, one doesn't use other drugs when undergoing chemotherapy. Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs are basically used instead of steroids to block the physiological response of inflammation, mainly the metabolism of arachodonic acid in cell membranes. Right that's the science bit done with. I was undecided about having the power-cut or the fainting (I wrote both scenarios out!) so I went for the over the top one of just putting both of them in. I hope this didn't ruin the effect. This new 'progression' in their relatioship came rather suddenly to me. It was planned to be an incredibly romantic chapter but life has made me warp this story according to my realities at the moment. I realise that some of the characters, especially H might have seemed a little out of character so I would definitely like some feedback on that if possible. Please leave a review if you can, I'd like to make it to a 100 if possible, that would just be fantastic and totally make my month!