Author's Note: I think there was a misunderstanding - there's still a long way to go with this fic. Not quite finished having my fun with these characters yet. The fact that the interim between these updates gets longer and longer is not a good thing - but that's my fault. Hopefully you all find this chapter worth the wait and that most loose ends for this story arc have been tied up. Hopefully things pick up after this because it's summer and term is almost over yipee!! Thank-you for your reviews and feedback, much appreciated as always. Happy reading.

Disclaimer: As per usual, they are not mine. I'm sure after reading this far by now you've got the idea.

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

"Sorry I'm late and thank-you for waiting," said the deep voice behind her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned around to face him with a smile, "Well, I'm out of pills, you still have my phone AND my favourite jeans so you know... I couldn't exactly leave."

She caught his delayed reaction to her weak attempt at a joke, "Kidding Horatio!" she exclaimed, "Kidding," she said more softly this time.

Caught off guard by her friendly tone and smile he quickly looked down, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He managed to stammer something indistinct back.

She took his arm, concerned about him. Well there was no use prolonging the agony they were probably both going through on her account, she thought. "Wanna walk?"

"Sure."

They began to walk down the path leading to the nearby marina. She kept her hand closed around his arm. She could feel the muscles in his arm clench spasmodically and she guessed by the lumps at the side of his trousers, that occasionally brushed against her, that his hands too were clenched into fists. They both instinctively stopped when they reached the beginning of the railing that ran along the canal.

"Are you ok?" he asked, removing his arm from her grasp with a soft shrug.

She bit down on her lip. Her expression was a mix of emotion - hard to read and the moment became awkward.

She reached up and slid his sunglasses off his face. She folded them and slipped them into his shirt pocket and felt the low thump of his heart through the fabric. Her hand stopped for a moment against it before slipping away. The azure blue of his eyes was not the blue she was used to seeing. They had been transformed to a darkening sapphire shade and almost seemed foreboding because of how tired and resigned they looked – no wonder he hadn't wanted to take the sunglasses off. His eyes looked a little swollen, like he'd just had an attack of hayfever. He sighed and seemed to sag against the railing for extra support. "Horatio, talk to me," she took his hands – they were ice-cold and rigid. She rubbed them gently within her own, "Are you ok?"

He gave a quick glance around them to make sure they were alone. He separated their hands and then raised his fingers to trace out the edge of her bruised lips. She instantly recoiled from his icy touch, "Marisol," he said tenderly willing himself and her not to look away, not now when he was so close. It was too late for him to be a coward, now, "I really didn't mean to be so rough and hurt you, yesterday. I'm sorry." He let out the massive sigh pent up inside, "I don't know why I…I said…well you know. It wasn't meant to come out like that but it did. It's maybe too late to take the words back but I can only hope that you will understand how I meant it-"

"This isn't fair!" she burst out petulantly, breaking eye contact with him and crossing her arms against herself, "Why do you always get to say 'Sorry' first?"

Whatever Horatio had been expecting to hear from her, that was not it.

She pulled him closer to her through his belt. She wanted him close when she apologised so she could read him as easily as he seemed to read her, but first… She raised her lips, expecting him to meet her halfway with his own lips.

"I don't know if I'm allowed to kiss you yet."

"What do you mean you're not allowed to kiss me? The last time I checked, I was the only one who had permission over who has access to my lips and who could kiss me," She had been taken by surprise by his comment and had a nagging feeling that Eric had something to do with this comment. If it was Eric, oh was he going to be in trouble.

She threaded her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him closer again, frustrated by his hesitancy. He glanced around them… but damn it! She didn't care anymore about the people around them that could be watching, or the fact that she was making Miami's finest blush like a school-boy in public. She could feel her emotions mirrored in the tension radiating off his body. "Horatio, what the hell is going on with you?" she bit her lip, unhappy that the question had come out like that. She saw him lean further against the railing, his face gradually turning paler. Her hands balled into fists at her sides as her temper rose. She crossed her arms against herself.

"Well I'm not feeling well and I'm not sure if it's ok to be around you in case you catch something from me. Just something Doctor Rawlins mentioned about the drugs affecting your healing and low immunity because, uh, low immunity…so…oh God Marisol! I don't know why all I do know is that I don't want to hurt you anymore."

God help her! What was it with this man and protecting? Just let it go Marisol, came the little voice at the back of her mind, he's just concerned about your safety. Hell! you don't seem to worry half as much as he does.Exactly my point! she argued back. Besides he's the one not feeling well. Jesus, he looks worse than crap! Only because of your foolishness, echoed her conscience bringing back with it a strong echo of her earlier guilt. She had to be patient. She had argued it out with herself last night that if this – 'they' was going to work then she had to be patient. Her nature and genes meant she wasn't a patient person but if being with him meant her blowing one less fuse, hell it was worth it.

As her mind flew around these thoughts she failed to noticed Horatio feeling around his pockets for the tablets he had been prescribed. He was annoyed to find that he had left them in the car in his eagerness to see her. Marisol suddenly read him and caught his hands as he began to collapse. He gave a low groan as his knees hit concrete with a hard thump. He rested for a moment before his hands gripped her wrist tightly as he struggled with himself to stand up.

She rubbed a hand across her forehead, "Horatio, we're doing this all wrong. It's becoming way too complicated." She stepped up to him and curled her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, "Horatio," she kissed his cheek, "I'm sorry about yesterday. You know, I'm not sure how you became a CSI but can't you tell or even feel how very happy being with you makes me? Look, yesterday what happened - I overreacted. I shouldn't have but I did. I let my temper get the better of me, and it was out of line." she gripped him more tightly, "I'm sorry."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground slightly, he heard her giggle with delight, "I'm sorry too, Marisol," he whispered in her ear, "for everything…" and kissed her cheek.

He leaned her against the railing, her feet still off the ground. She raised her head off his shoulder and clutched his face gently, to look him in the eye, "See we were complicating things as adults do. So it's done and dusted and we're moving on, ok mister?"

"You bet Sweetheart."

He let her lean in for a kiss. It was slow, and deliciously sweet. She started with his lips first, gently sucking and pulling with her teeth. She tilted his face so she had better access to his mouth. Her tongue, moved into his mouth in degrees, advancing and retreating as she kept his own at bay, until he finally allowed her full access to his mouth. Their tongues curled and danced around each other with heat and intensity. He found himself holding her waist too tightly and slackened his grip. He shifted her higher up so that she could have the control that she wanted over him. He didn't dare blink or close his eyes for fear of losing this moment and her. God! She looked so beautiful. He felt his heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he realised that he desperately needed to breathe but really didn't want to stop her to stop kissing him.

As if reading his body's needs she roughly broke the kiss. There was a big smile on her face as she tried to catch her breath, "Think you can hold me up for a little longer?" she challenged.

"Anything for you, Marisol." he responded, ignoring the slow growing ache in his arms.

She gave him an even bigger smile before her lips came crashing down onto his.

Moments later, both were gasping for air. His face was bright red partly from embarrassment, partly from exhilaration and partly from lack of air. She hugged him again as they both waited for their breathing to slow down and their chests to stop heaving. He gently lowered her down. Her hand gently closed down on his fist. He slowly opened his fist to let her fingers slide through and gave her a shy smile. His eyes, she was glad to notice, were back to sparkling blue that she loved.

"How about we go home and skip lunch today? You're not feeling well. I'm sure I've got some meds to treat you with."

"Sounds like a good idea." He said warmly, squeezing her hand and leading her to the car.

"Mmm…Mmmm….Mmmm. Something smells really, really good." said Horatio, sneaking up behind her and encircling his arms around her waist. He kissed her cheek.

She turned around, smiling. But then her mouth dropped open in shock, "Wow, you're such a geek!"

He pretended to look insulted, "What? These are my best pair!"

"Boy, do I know what to get you for your birthday then," she mumbled.

"These are my 'sick pyjamas'," seeing her bemused expression he explained further, "They were a gift from my wife. I mean my ex-wife."

Marisol eyed them rather critically again, "Oh well at least she's got some good taste – Ralph Lauren, very sexy, although why they designed something so hideous is completely beyond me. He sniffed as Marisol eyed the purple bordering on fuchsia pyjamas dotted with neon yellow polo players with distaste. The whole thing, she thought, clashed ridiculously with his red hair, damp from the shower.

He hoisted himself up onto the countertop and watched her. He felt his stomach bubble with hunger and give an angry growl at the sight of her coating the hot delicacies with sugar.

"How you feeling?"

"Much the same as before. Sick but not sick," he gave another sniff.

"Blatant attention seeker," teased Marisol.

"Can't help it sweetheart. You seem to have the strangest effects on me. Besides, first time for everything, Marisol."

"Now that I can believe." she said turning away from him to get a plate.

She came back and stood on her tip-toes to press her cheek against his, her hands busy once again, "You're still quite hot."

"Why thank-you. Now that one I've been told before…from women other than my ex-wife."

She sighed, her mind reeling with surprise at his openness, "Of that Lubimiy, I have no doubt. I'm just surprised no men have told you that either."

"Now I never said anything about that because you've never asked," he answered with a smirk seeing her stunned expression.

"You've been asked?" she inquired incredulously. He nodded. "What did you say?" she asked, fascinated.

"I said in the politest way possible that I'm only interested in women. But that their comments were flattering."

"Aww, Lubimiy. That's so you -"

"Lub…what?"

"Tell you later what it means. Anyway you and Bella do have something in common now. Except she wasn't as polite because of the shock of getting asked," she said with a grin, "We were in a club and I was dancing with some guy and she was too but then within the crowd she was grinding against a guy and she got so carried away with the music that she failed to notice the change in partner until a nail started to scrape the inside of her thigh and she felt a perky pair of breasts pushing into the back of her. And man did she just FREAK out!! She became really paranoid about her sexuality after that."

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head ruefully at their antics. He continued to watch her. She placed a steaming bowl of soup next to him. "Have some of this. You must really be hungry."

"Thank-you Sweetheart. What are those?" he pointed to the plate of browned, sugared, cigar shaped pastries.

"You don't know?" she asked, genuinely surprised. He shook his head, taking a sip of the steaming soup. "Churros - for dessert. My mom is the only one who knows how to make them. I mean I know the recipe but only my mom can make them like this, she puts in extra ingredients. Sooooooo I stole the ones she made for Eric. All you have to do is fry them and sugar them, and of course then eat them. They're just divine."

Horatio felt his mouth water as he watched her drizzle some maple syrup onto them. "You did all of this in two hours? Am I allowed to have any?"

"Of course! I made them for you. The oil and the fact that they're fried might mess up your throat a little more, but you're already sick right?" She turned away pretending to busy herself, so he wouldn't see the guilty look in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, when you say you 'stole' Eric's, what exactly did you do?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "Horatio, that normally means, 'took without permission,'. Honestly and they say accountants have crappy vocabulary," her phone began to vibrate on the counter, "Speak of the devil."

"'Ola,"

"Marisol, did you take them?" asked the angry voice at the other end.

"¿Que?"

"Mari! My churros that mama made!"

"Oh those. I borrowed them."

"Marisol, borrow implies that I'll get them back. How do you propose to do that?"

"I can puke them up for you right now if you like."

"Sis! You're disgusting."

"Oh relax Eric! Why need them for something kinky?" she heard Horatio choke on his soup and giggled.

"Oh wouldn't you just like to know?" he shot back.

"Eric…busy…anything else?" hearing him stutter on the phone, "Stop acting like such a baby. Call me if you need anything. Love you. Ciao." And with that she hung up on him.

"You just hung up on your brother, Marisol." he commented shocked.

"Actually Horatio," she smiled knowingly, "He was busy. I could tell. He was stuttering and groaning."

"Oh…" came his pathetic remark before a crimson blush swept up his neck.

"So you obviously don't like doughnuts. Remind again how you became a policeman?"

He smiled, embarrassed, "Actually, I can't remember what I did with the ones you gave me today."

She rolled her eyes, "Well that's because you never took them from me in the first place. It was like whoosh! You were just suddenly gone and my peace offering was still left in my hands. So I did the next best thing – gave it to Eric."

Horatio took a bite of the buttered roll she handed him and then said, "Frank was surprised that you and Eric share the same genes."

"He knows Eric and I are related?"

"Sweetheart, you know we're not detectives and CSIs for nothing," he said trying to suppress the smile that ached at the corners of his mouth.

She smiled back, "I don't have to guess... because I know Eric can be rude – the price you pay for being spoiled as the youngest,"

Horatio laughed, "You're too harsh on him sometimes,"

"Funny. Bella says the same thing,"

"I'm glad she and I have found something to agree on, other than sexuality. Besides, I think it's the youngest's right to get spoiled. No, they just had a misunderstanding. Eric's intentions have always been good, if a little misguided, when it comes to Frank."

"Horatio, he's my brother of course he's misguided," the way her eyes twinkled made him give into his smile even though his facial muscles ached in protest.

"Maybe you should have been the CSI, Sweetheart."

"Maybe Lieutenant, maybe," she teased, leaning over and giving him a kiss on his cheek. She stepped back to survey the churros before washing her hands in the sink. She came back to him and leaned into him, giving him a cuddle. She let her head rest on his chest.

"Have you eaten?"

"Uh-huh, I had some soup earlier. Is it ok?"

"Sweetheart, it's more than ok! Better than the soup I make," he said with a happy sigh, remembering his earlier day-dream of wanting her next to him and fussing over him. He kissed the top of her head as she nestled further into him. He began to stroke her back and offered her some of his roll. She took a small bite. They remained silent - holding and resting against each other as they waited for the churros to cool down.

"You didn't spend the night at Isabella's did you?" he asked out of curiosity rather than possessiveness.

Marisol focused on spinning the bottle of maple syrup.

"Marisol?" he lifted her chin up.

"Well it's not like you exactly behaved, either Horatio." she retorted. "No, what I really did was go on a crime spree and then visit a strip joint." she muttered sarcastically before seeing the hurt look in his eyes. She chided herself but not before the following slipped out of her mouth too, "Come on! does it really matter. I'm ok all right? That's all that matters. Trust me."

"You know I do sweetheart, you know I do."

"Ok, that's enough about yesterday. It's done. Besides I still have to make it up to you for getting you sick." He shook his head ruefully, "and we really should put something on your cut, or rather my cut."

A little while later, when she thought they had cooled off enough. She pulled the plate towards them and squirted out a pool of maple syrup. She picked up a churro and dipped it into the syrup before lifting it up to his lips to try. Missing his mouth and dabbing his cheek instead, she leaned back to improve her aim. She could see from his face that he really liked them. After he finished the first one, she did the same with the second, but this time he caught her hand.

"Sweetheart, you've got to let go of this guilt complex you have," he mocked gently, not wanting to upset her, but at the same time wanting her to realise that he knew what she was doing. She blushed, guiltily under his stare. "Marisol," he cupped her cheek and lifted her face so that she could see his smile, "You do realise I'm in love with you?" However he wasn't ready to go as far as to struggle to put in words that the power he had in his hands over her sent his mind spinning with shock every time he thought about it. Never had his relationships ever been this intense.

She picked off imaginary loose fibres from his pyjamas afraid that she was actually dreaming, "I'm sorry again for all the crap I've put you through. I've been selfish but I'm going to try and be better."

"Sweetheart, you're the best thing in my life at the moment and I really don't want that changing anytime soon".

She ran her hand along his pyjama clad arm and gave him a bright smile, "I love you too Horatio Caine."

"Now, I think that's the best thing I've heard all day," he chuckled pulling her closer to him and holding her gaze, "You're biting your lip, again," he whispered, their lips close, foreheads resting against each other.

"I remember someone telling me about it being a bad habit. I've been trying to stop." she commented with an eyebrow raise.

"Actually, I said 'cute habit'."

"Did you now?" her hand moved up to push some of his 'desperately needing to be cut' fringe back as his grin widened. She couldn't help but smile too as he finally pushed his face forward and kissed her lips gently.

"You want to try something cheesy?" she asked when they broke apart.

"How cheesy?" he asked suspiciously.

"Like Hollywood rom-com cheesy,"

He laughed and nodded.

"Ok then. I've always wanted to this." She picked up a churro and fed him one end while she began to eat the other end. He rolled his eyes but played along.

When their lips finally met, he began to tease her for the last piece but she was not about to give up so easily and duelled back with her own tongue and teeth. She finally gave up and pulled back from him, laughing uncontrollably. Her mouth was still half full. He joined in with her, feeling better every time he laughed. He allowed her to lead him towards his bedroom.

He leaned against the doorframe watching her as she rummaged for something in her purse that she had dragged along with them. His eyes widened with surprise and distaste as he saw what she brought out.

"I thought Madison would like them," she said innocently opening the box.

"Sweetheart, while I would do almost anything for you…That-", he pointed to the offending object, "-is where I draw the line…You, you, you just can't!" he exclaimed, backing away from her only to have his leg collide with a chair.

"Careful Horatio, you might need two." She said with a smile, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Marisol, no, no. No! Of all the band-aids you could have bought for 'Madison', you had to pick one with pink butterflies. I'm pretty sure, I have some normal ones in the bathroom. Besides, I really don't think I need a plaster for something so small."

She continued to advance upon him, pushing him down to the bed and kneeling between his legs. "I'm being punished aren't I?" he asked meekly seeing her sparkling eyes.

She laughed and stood higher on her knees so she was in better reach of his face. He felt a warm sensation traverse through his body at the amount of attention he was getting and almost, just almost felt ashamed and guilty but at the same time incredibly happy. She peeled the strips off and fully concentrating on what she was doing applied the band-aid to the offending wound. He whimpered lightly as it made contact to which he earned a comment of being a big baby while she earned a kiss in return.

"Stay please, Sweetheart? For a little while?" he asked when she had finished.

She nodded and drew back the covers for both of them. Before either of them realised what was happening, they were in each other's arms. He ran his fevered hands over her. His hot lips soon began to spread fever within her body. She moaned softly, her hands slipping under his ridiculous pyjamas. Her hands stopped abruptly; his skin was burning under her fingers. Her mind was craving for that final physical bond with him. She needed him. Her body began to twitch, in all the right places, for his touch. Her mind was unwilling to acknowledge him being sick as her body continued to rub and arch against him. Her creeping hands lightly tickled his chest. His mouth was still pressed and probing against hers; there was gentleness punctuated with a sudden ferocity that had her moaning and arching for more. Her lips twitched against his with longing to move everywhere across his body and find those secret pleasure-sensitive spots that she knew he must have. His hands clasped her waist, rolling her on top of him. His hands quickly undid the knot she had tied her hair up in, while her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt. Her legs automatically dropped to straddle him, her hands clamping down hard on his shoulders. He whimpered softly into her mouth and there was a momentary flash of pain in his eyes. She stopped again, realising her nails were getting the better of his pale, freckled skin. Her lips shifted to his skin. She kissed the angry red flares before sucking his skin softly. She moved her lips lower down his torso and heard his breath hitch. She smiled, her hands massaging his skin

He began trembling and she stopped once more. His big, darkened eyes looked bewildered for a moment. "Horatio, while it would pimp up my ego to no end knowing that I am the one making you tremble like that, I know I'm not. Your fever is much too high and you need to rest." she lightly dropped to his side on the bed and pulled herself up to his eye level.

"What?" he croaked huskily seeing her smile.

"Nothing," she replied, her smile broadening.

He began to wind one of her falling tresses around his finger, "Liar,"

She shook her head, her smile now showing sparkling white teeth, her eyes twinkling with fun.

"Do tell now, Sweetheart," he coaxed, gently tugging on the strand wrapped around his finger to pull her closer.

Their lips were again inches apart and it took Marisol every gram of will power she had to not kiss him again and to get the images she had of ravishing of him out of her head. She decided to compromise and allowed herself the liberty of inching a fingertip up his torso, "I was thinking…" she whispered huskily, fixing her eyes on him.

"Mhmm, what were you thinking Marisol?" She was stalling, he could tell. Her eyes were getting a naughty glint.

His gravelly voice did nothing to soothe her but make her senses tingle with desire for him. "I was thinking that perhaps…you, Horatio Caine are really not helping my case of hair loss by pulling."

"Perhaps. But you're still too beautiful,"

She rolled her eyes at his comment, although deep down she really did love hearing the words, even if they were only words because all that she needed from him, she felt in his look, his touch, his kiss.

Right now he looked a long way away, lost in that rather brilliant mind of his. He continued to twirl her hair. He had now pulled her down so far that she was resting one hand against his chest to stop herself from collapsing onto him. He didn't know why he wanted to know so desperately what she was thinking.

Perhaps it was because he felt light-headed from his fever,

perhaps it was because he could still feel his heart racing from their moment ago,

perhaps it was the way the tip of her nail was lightly grazing his navel,

perhaps it was the coy smile on her face prompting him.

Anyway, he just wanted to know. Was there anything so bad in that?

"I was thinking that if you need to get sick to let go like you have been then you need to be sick more often." she quickly got up and left the room while a stunned Horatio Caine was left with a smile on his face.

She passed by his room about an hour later to check on him after tidying up the kitchen and having a shower. She saw his eyes open as she was about to switch off the lights, "Still awake?"

He nodded sleepily, his eyes unfocused, "I was thinking,"

Now that was never a good thing, she thought to herself.

"Sweetheart, I don't ever want to fight with you again."

She walked towards the bed, "Really? It was kind of fun… Horatio! I was kidding! I don't want to fight with you again either," she lifted the sheets up and saw his knees tightly pressed against his chest. She picked up the blanket she had brought from the spare room that she had slept in the day before, and settled it on him. He held onto her hand and it was enough to tell her that he wanted her next to him, "But you know we will."

She flicked the lights off and hurried back to the bed, her eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness.

"Perhaps."

He shrugged at the prospect of inevitability, his eyes closing for a moment.

Ever the diplomat, she thought snuggling closer to him and kissing the underneath of his chin. His skin was still too warm for her liking. She heard him sigh softly and kissed the underneath of his chin again for a bit longer. Well, this wasn't what she'd planned on when she first got to sleep in a bed with him. She forced the negative thoughts out of her mind. As if reading her thoughts, he gave her a small hug. She shivered thinking it was weird how he did that sometimes or maybe it was all just perfect coincidence!

He felt her shiver and hugged her closer to him so she could share his warmth.

"Horatio."

"Hmmm…" was the sleepy murmur she got in return.

"I'm being serious about this, but you better wake me up if you need anything! Because I will not have your dudes out on a witch-hunt for me if anything happens on my watch." Wait! Had he just let out a giggle? Was that even possible?! She felt the corners of her own mouth, involuntarily swing up.

"Sweetheart, you sound like you've been taking notes from my M.E. Alexx Woods. Never thought I'd hear those words under my own roof, 'if I need anything!'" he mimicked letting out a mock 'hmph' for emphasis.

"Consider yourself warned Lieutenant Caine," she joked back.

"Yes Ma'am," came the mocking tone above her.

"Now go to sleep, and no more talking!"

She felt him shudder against her but this time she was sure that it was from trying to stop himself from laughing and not from his fever.

"Am I allowed to say goodnight?" he asked after a short silence.

"Huh? Oh right, forgot about that. Yes you're allowed to do that. Goodnight, Horatio."

"Goodnight, Marisol," he whispered, low in her ear.

Marisol didn't know whether to strangle him or kiss him for being able to turn her on again, with a whisper even when he was sick.

Marisol jerked awake a couple of hours later, her hair damp and clinging against her face with cold sweat. No she wasn't falling but clinging tightly to Horatio, who was still fast asleep. No thought came to her as to why she was awake at…she pushed herself up to look at the alarm clock…3.27 a.m….then the cold memory of falling came back to her – a cold hard floor, blood, and Eric's brown eyes filled with pain and sadness. She collapsed face down onto the pillow with a low groan and started counting to 500. At 490 she was still awake. She turned around onto her back and slammed the pillow onto her face and began to count backwards this time. She reached 1 and was irritated to find herself still wide-awake. She heard Horatio shift beside her, letting out the occasional snore. Not knowing what else to do, she carefully got up from the bed, trying to disturb him as little as possible and hoping that he wasn't a light sleeper like Eric.

It was pointless! her insomnia these days was getting ridiculous. She hadn't slept in 4 days now. She found herself pacing the landing outside the room and afraid of waking him she went downstairs. After drinking some water she sank into the sofa. She really wanted to put some music on to help her drift off but she resisted. It wasn't that she wasn't tired; she could feel exhaustion in every part of her body but her mind was still active as if she'd been downing espresso shots all day. It was buzzing and refused to be quieted down after the events of the past few days: the rollercoaster of emotions from feeling happiness,

Anger,

Despairing sadness,

And finally - subliminal love. She loved being on cloud 9, she'd been there before, which girl hadn't? but she had let herself fall from it far too quickly.

But this time was different.

This time, she had learned from her mistakes.

This time she was not the girl she had been.

This time, hopefully she was stronger and hopefully wiser.

She was used to dealing with a lot, and in her younger, healthier days this would not have posed such a problem but at this time in life it was killing her. She thought about Blanca and her parents and the 'I told you so' expressions she would get if she were to tell them about any of this. And Eric…well Eric had too much going on in his life making her 2 cents really un-necessary at this time. Her little brother had grown up way too fast since he had started his job as a CSI. She relaxed further into the couch turning her thoughts to Bella and Christian and Isabella's visiting parents brought a smile to her face. She would have to take the Sorensons out before the wedding.

"Everything ok, Marisol?" he asked sleepily, switching on the lights. He had been watching her in the dark hearing her sigh deeply.

""I think we need to ask, if you're ok? Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm ok." He sat down and rubbed his legs, waiting for her to speak. When she didn't, "Can't sleep?"

"Exhausted actually," she replied laying her head on his shoulder and pulling him back to rest on the sofa.

"What's the matter then?" he took her hand within his.

"Nothing, just can't sleep."

"Hmm…"

"Hmm…" she mimicked back.

He pulled her on top of him, "Would this help?"

"It might," she giggled, daring him with her stare to finish what he had started.

He enfolded her completely and lay down with her gently stroking her arms to keep her warm.

"Better?" he whispered in her ear.

She pressed a kiss to his lips, "Much." She turned away from him and rested in the crook of his arm. He nuzzled her and tried to comfort her the best he could while she tried to fall asleep. She tried counting again and found by the time she reached 169 her eyes were closing. She let herself go this time.

He waited until he felt her relax completely within his embrace before allowing himself to fall asleep – happy and in love.

Lubimiy - Russian word for 'darling,' or loved one.