Title: Taking Over Me

Author: Melanie-Anne

melsie04hotmail.com

Fandoms: CSI Miami/Without A Trace

Rating: R

Pairing: Sam/Jack, Sam/other, Horatio/Calleigh, Horatio/other

Disclaimer: Neither the characters of CSI: Miami or Without A Trace belong to me. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox.

Summary: After Calleigh goes missing in New York, Jack and the team have to find her before it's too late, and Horatio wonders just how well he knows his colleague.



Taking Over Me
by Melanie-Anne


Horatio Caine loved to watch people. As head of the Miami-Dade crime lab, it was an invaluable habit. Often, he reflected, you could tell more about a person by watching them than talking to them. Now, as he sat in the arrivals lounge of Miami International Airport, he indulged himself and studied the people around him. Like himself, they were all waiting for someone. A friend, a colleague, perhaps a lover. Perhaps, like him, a mixture of the three.

He smiled as he watched a young woman throw her arms around a man's neck and press her lips to his, and wondered what would happen if he gave his ballistics expert a welcome like that.

Calleigh Duquesne, the southern blonde who had somehow charmed her way into his heart, was due to arrive any minute from a conference in New York. She had been gone for a week, and Horatio wasn't the only CSI who missed the sunshine she brought to the lab.

A pleasant female voice echoed through the building, announcing that Calleigh's plane had landed. Horatio quickly cast aside all non-professional thoughts about Calleigh. He was here to pick her up as a friendly favor. Their relationship existed in subtle flirting. Neither of them dared cross the invisible line between more-than-just-colleagues and actual romantic involvement. Horatio was unwilling to risk ruining things.

He had never entertained the possibility of no longer having her in his life.

He stood and waited for her to walk through the gate, his breath held in anticipation. All around him, people came and went, but he didn't see Calleigh. Another announcement was made, more flights landed, more flights left, but there was still no Calleigh.

Horatio knew he hadn't missed her – he missed nothing. In his job, he couldn't afford to. He glanced at his watch; twenty minutes since Calleigh had landed.

He refused to panic, believing in his heart that there was a simple explanation. She could have just missed the flight. She could have decided to stay longer in New York. She could have been held up getting her luggage.

But it was in his nature to worry about her, and he had seen enough to know that the world was a horrible place where bad things happened to good people.

Keeping his eyes on the gate, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number from memory. When he got her voicemail – "You've reached Calleigh Duquesne, please leave a message," the lilt of her accent betraying that she'd smiled when she'd recorded it – he hung up and headed for the terminal. The combination of his badge and the intense look in his eyes was enough for the attendant to grant him access to the passenger manifest.

Calleigh had not been on the flight.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Samantha Spade was on her way to work when she got a call to go to the Marriott Hotel. With a sigh, she changed direction and navigated her way through New York rush hour traffic. Jack hadn't said much about the case, only that a cop from Miami was missing. Caught at a red light, Samantha applied a light coat of lip-gloss and wondered what a Miami cop was doing all the way up here.

Jack was waiting for her in the lobby of the hotel, wearing his trademark coat and a frown. Samantha's own eyes narrowed; Jack was frowning a lot lately. She hoped Marie wasn't the cause, then thought about herself, and decided it was probably better if it was Marie.

Jack smiled when he saw her and Samantha pushed all thoughts of his wife aside.

"Sorry I'm late," Samantha began but Jack held up his hand to stop her.

"Detective Calleigh Duquesne from the Miami-Dade crime lab was in New York for a forensics conference. She was due back in Miami this morning, only she never got on the plane."

Samantha nodded. "Okay. She was staying here?"

"Yes. I've got Danny calling the hospitals and morgues. Martin's checking manifests of other flights and Viv is running background."

Samantha bit back her smile. She loved working with Jack, preferred it, in fact, to working with any of the others. Not because she had anything against them, but because Jack was . . . well, Jack.

A short, slightly balding man approached the agents and introduced himself as the manager. Jack shook his hand and held out his badge. "Jack Malone and Samantha Spade. We're with the FBI."

Richard Thomas' eyes widened. "FBI? Is something the matter?"

"We believe Calleigh Duquesne was staying here this week. We'd like to see her room."

"I can't just let you—"

"She's missing. Now, I'm sure you have nothing to hide . . ."

"Of course not." Richard Thomas turned and headed for the desk. He sat behind the computer and tapped at the keyboard. After a minute, he nodded and stood. "Miss Duquesne was in room 302. She hasn't checked out yet. You'll need a card to get in."

Samantha smiled and accepted the card. "Thanks for your help."

In the elevator, she looked up at Jack. "What do we know about her so far?"

"Just what I've told you. Her boss is flying out later today."

Samantha noted the distaste in his voice. "Who's her boss?"

"Horatio Caine."

"You don't like him?"

"I just don't want him messing up the investigation."

The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out. "I'm sure he only wants to help."

Jack 'hmphed' and quickened his pace. He reached the room before Samantha and had to wait for her to unlock the door.

"Miss Duquesne? Detective?" he called as the door swung open.

There was no sound from within. The room was dark, the curtains keeping the sunlight out. Jack flicked the light switch.

A crème blazer was on the bed. One of the cupboard doors was slightly ajar. Samantha opened it to find clothes still hanging there. Jack moved to the bathroom to find it empty as well. Toiletries still littered the counter. He returned to the room. Samantha sat at the desk in front of a laptop.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head. "Just case reports and lecture notes for the conference. I guess she liked guns."

"Umm. I heard her speak."

Samantha looked up sharply. "You never told me that."

Jack shrugged. "Tuesday night. Barry Douglas, a friend from Quantico, organized the conference. He told me her lecture would be interesting. It was. Calleigh Duquesne is the best there is in ballistics."

Samantha bit her lip to keep quiet. Now that she knew Jack had a personal stake in the case, she understood his strange mood.

"Barry introduced me to her afterwards. I like her. I hope we find her." Jack tilted his head and looked at Samantha. "She reminded me of you a little."

Samantha turned back to the computer, unable to hide the flush in her cheeks. "We'll find her."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


After only ten minutes in New York, Horatio already missed Miami. The FBI agents had given him a sincere, albeit wary, welcome. He understood their hesitance; after all, he was the outsider, the intruder. He had not come here to take over the investigation, but he was damned if he was going to stay in Miami and do nothing.

Apparently his reputation had preceded him because, on his arrival, he was informed he would be part of the team.

At the FBI headquarters, he stood in front of the white board and looked at Calleigh's smiling face. No one knew yet how long she had been missing.

"Hi, you must be Lieutenant Caine."

He turned and found himself looking down at a short black woman. Something in her tone reminded him of Alexx Woods, his ME back home, and he smiled and extended his hand. "Call me Horatio."

"I'm Vivian. Welcome to New York. Come this way and I'll brief you on how we're doing." She led him to a large table, pausing a few feet in front of it. "You want coffee or anything?"

He shook his head. He wanted to dive straight in. Every minute counted; he couldn't afford to waste a single second. Somewhere out there, Calleigh was alone and she needed him.

Samantha and Jack returned from a day of endless interviews – Barry Douglas, other speakers from the conference, chambermaids from the hotel, Richard Thomas, the night porter – knowing little more than they had when they'd begun. At least they had a time frame now, Samantha thought as she picked up a marker and updated the whiteboard. She glanced across the room and saw Vivian deep in conversation with a man she didn't recognize.

Though he was seated, Samantha could see the stranger was tall. He had striking red hair and his face was lined with worry. Samantha had done this job long enough to identify loss when she saw it. She looked at Calleigh's photograph; light blonde hair, blue eyes, a wide, easy smile. Calleigh had brought a man all the way from Miami to New York. She had made a lasting impression on another man from just a brief encounter. Samantha couldn't help feeling slightly jealous and wondered what it was about this woman that was so special.

"Where'd you go?" she murmured, half to herself. Lost in thought, she didn't hear Jack's approach and jumped when he spoke.

"Sam, this is Horatio Caine."

It was the red-haired stranger. She liked him immediately. "Samantha Spade," she said with a smile.

"I'd like to go back to the hotel," Horatio said, not quite meeting Samantha's eyes. She was a little taller than Calleigh and her accent was different, but she was blonde and beautiful and that was enough to cause Horatio's heart to constrict.

"There was no sign of a struggle in the room," Samantha said. "Her clothes, her laptop . . . nothing seemed to be missing."

"The room was processed by our own crime lab," Jack said, his tone almost challenging. "If there was something, they would have picked up on it."

"I'm not implying that they wouldn't. I just . . . I'm not used to this. I usually work with Calleigh. It's strange to be looking for her. It . . ." He trailed off, his shoulders sagging.

Samantha took pity on him. "How well do you know Calleigh?"

Horatio looked at the photograph, drawing strength from it. "She's worked for me for three years. We're friends."

"Did she know anyone in New York?"

"No. She was here for the conference. She was giving a lecture." He smiled, a distant look in his eyes as he remembered the days leading up to her departure. "She didn't want to speak – she doesn't enjoy things like that. Being out in the field or in the lab, that's where she's comfortable. And on the shooting range."

"I enjoyed her lecture," Jack said, warming slightly. Horatio Caine was different to what he'd been expecting. He knew if he were in Horatio's shoes, he would want to do everything in his power to find Samantha.

Then he realized he'd strayed into dangerous territory and turned his attention back to the conversation. Horatio was looking at him with an unidentifiable expression on his face.

"I spoke with her afterwards," Jack said. "She said she couldn't wait to get back to Miami."

Horatio didn't respond and looked at the board. The little they knew of Calleigh's week was set out in block letters. She'd been last seen leaving the hotel on Wednesday morning, dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket. The doorman, a man way past retirement age, remembered her having a bag slung over her shoulder. "Of course I remember her," he'd said. "Pretty girl like that, how could I not? Friendly too. Always said hello." What he couldn't remember was the direction she'd taken.

Three days ago, Calleigh Duquesne had vanished into thin air.

"I'll drive you to the hotel," Jack said. He realized he had more in common with Horatio than he'd thought: they both wanted someone they couldn't have.



Part 2

Samantha pinched the bridge of her nose in a useless attempt to keep her headache at bay. The conference had ended yesterday and most of the people who'd attended it had already left New York. Which only made Samantha's life more difficult. She stood up, stretched and made herself a cup of coffee before returning to her task of tracking people down.

"Du Pree," a deep voice answered.

"Lieutenant Du Pree? My name is Samantha Spade; I'm with the FBI's Missing Persons Unit. You were just in New York for a forensics conference, is that correct?"

"Yes." He drew the word out. "Why?"

"You wouldn't by any chance still be in New York, would you? I'd like to meet with you."

"As a matter of fact I am, Agent Spade. I thought I'd get a little sightseeing done before I head back to New Orleans." He pronounced it N'Awlens, something Samantha found charming. "Do you mind me asking why?"

She shook her head, then realized he couldn't see her. "It's about a missing person. I'd rather discuss it in person."

He chuckled. "Of course. Well, name a time and place and I'll be there."

Which is how, three hours later, Samantha found herself at a bar, a bowl of rapidly decreasing peanuts on the counter in front of her, waiting.

"Agent Spade?" A good-looking man slipped onto the seat next to her. He ran his fingers through his hair and offered a smile. "Sorry I'm late. I'm not used to the traffic. We're a little more laid back in New Orleans." His smile widened, displaying a dimple. "I'm Andrew Du Pree."

Samantha dusted salty fingers on her thigh and shook his hand. "Samantha Spade. Thanks for coming."

"Not a problem. So, how can I help you?"

"One of the speakers from the conference has gone missing. Calleigh Duquesne, from Miami. I was wondering if you'd seen her at all this week."

"Calleigh's missing?" Andrew's smile disappeared. "How long?"

"Since Wednesday morning."

Andrew got the barman's attention and ordered a beer. "I saw her on Tuesday, after she spoke. We went for a couple of drinks. When I didn't see her again I thought she'd gone home early."

"What was she like on Tuesday?"

Andrew smiled. "She was . . . Calleigh. Same as always. We were at New Orleans PD together before Miami stole her."

"So you knew her pretty well?"

"Yeah."

"And she seemed fine when you saw her?"

Andrew nodded, then his expression clouded and he shook his head. "We got talking later in the evening, about work. She wasn't happy in Miami. She told me she missed New Orleans and then kept talking about some of our old cases. Hey, you want anything else to drink?" He gestured to Samantha's empty glass.

"No, thank you."

Andrew called the barman back. "Get the lady another of whatever she's having."

When the Coke arrived, Andrew raised an eyebrow. "I'm working," Samantha said in explanation. "So, Calleigh was unhappy with her job? Did she talk about leaving at all?"

Andrew sipped his beer. "Not in so many words. But she seemed . . . I don't know, wistful, I guess."

Samantha jotted a few notes, noting the differences to Horatio's explanation. According to him, Calleigh loved her job. And Jack had said she couldn't wait to get back to Miami. "Where did you and Calleigh go for drinks?"

"Stones. It's a pool hall—"

"I know it." Samantha closed her notebook and stood. "Thanks for your time, Lieutenant."

"Andrew." He clasped her hand, his grip firm and warm. "It was my pleasure. I hope we meet again."

Leaving the bar, Samantha reflected on the conversation. She was surprised to realize that she liked Andrew Du Pree, and if they happened to meet again, she wouldn't complain.

Besides, she told herself, it's about time you stopped pining after Jack.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Horatio had to admit there was nothing in Calleigh's hotel room. He hadn't honestly expected to find anything, but he had hoped. Calleigh had left the hotel of her own free will. What happened after that was anyone's guess.

Jack hung up his cell phone and turned to Horatio. "That was Danny. Calleigh's not at any of the hospitals. No one matching her description boarded a plane or a bus." He paused, and Horatio held his breath.

"There's a body at the morgue. It needs to be identified." Jack's tone was gentle; he knew this was horrible news.

"It can't be her." Logically, Horatio knew it could be, but his heart refused to entertain the possibility. He had not come all this way to find her dead.

"It's been three days."

Horatio nodded. He knew the statistics, knew the longer he put this off the worse it would be. "Let's go."

They drove to the morgue in silence. Horatio thought about how often he was in Jack's position, accompanying people to view bodies. If this was Calleigh, he didn't know how he was going to tell everyone at home.

The body was covered with a blue sheet. Horatio's heart stopped beating as the ME pulled the plastic back. The woman's blonde hair was matted with blood and dark purple bruises disfigured her face. Yet Horatio knew at once that it wasn't Calleigh – he spent enough time observing her to know every feature. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"It isn't her." Horatio's thoughts turned immediately to the family of this girl. He sympathized with whoever they were and hoped her death would not go unpunished. But this was not his fight and he followed Jack back to the car.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Samantha found Jack at his desk long after everyone had left for the day. She leaned against the doorframe and watched him poring over Calleigh's file. He looked exhausted.

"Why don't you go home?"

He looked up and gave a weak smile. "I can't go home."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why but then she remembered it wasn't any of her business. She thought of Andrew's hand on hers, of his charming accent, and felt something in her chest contract. It was time to let go of Jack. When this case was over, when Calleigh had been found, hopefully alive, she would give Andrew a call.

"Get some rest, okay?"

He nodded, distracted. Samantha sighed and left without disturbing him.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Horatio lay on his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. There were very few times in his life when he had felt completely useless – his mother's murder, his brother's death, and now.

Before he left Miami, Alexx had made him promise to call. It was the only reason he rolled over and picked up the phone. She answered on the fifth ring.

"She's been missing since Wednesday." He had no strength for pleasantries and hoped Alexx would understand.

"What is the investigating team like?" Alexx, bless her, kept the conversation professional.

"Nice enough, I suppose. They're good people. They're working hard to find her but . . ."

"But it's been three days already."

He exhaled softly. "Yes."

"How much do you know?"

"She just walked out of the hotel and disappeared."

"No one just disappears, Horatio. You know that as well as I do."

"I know. And I know we'll find her. I just don't want to find h—" He choked, unable to finish the thought.

"You don't want to find her body." Alexx's voice was warm, but she couldn't hide the worry. She, too, wanted her friend found alive and well.

"Was she unhappy?"

"Unhappy? Why do you ask?"

Horatio closed his eyes and cursed Andrew Du Pree, whoever he was. "Samantha – one of the FBI agents – spoke to someone Calleigh worked with in New Orleans. He said she was unhappy in Miami. Do you think—?"

Alexx's no-nonsense tone dispelled any doubts. "You know Calleigh loves Miami. She loves what she does – you know what a workaholic she is." Alexx paused. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler. "Besides, you and Calleigh are close. You'd have known if she was unhappy."

Her words brought a smile to Horatio's face. Alexx was right. He and Calleigh had a good working relationship. They were almost unnaturally attuned to each other. If Calleigh were as unhappy as Andrew Du Pree claimed, Horatio would have known.

"Thanks, Alexx. Good night."

"Good night, Horatio. Bring her home."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Samantha was already at work when Horatio arrived the next morning. She sat at the conference table, reading over her interview notes. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a lock of it falling loose across her cheek. Horatio smiled, thought of Calleigh's hair, and a sharp pain in his chest reminded him why he was there.

"Do you want some coffee?"

Samantha looked up, distracted and gave a half-nod. "Morning, Horatio. Coffee, yeah, that'd be great."

"How do you take it?"

"With sugar." She turned back to her notes and missed the look on Horatio's face. She had no way of knowing that Calleigh had said almost identical words to him once.

When Horatio returned a few minutes later with two cups of coffee, Samantha smiled. "Thanks. Just what I needed."

"Have you got anything useful?"

She scratched her head and grimaced. "I don't know. I'm going over to Stones in about an hour. You're welcome to join me."

"Sure." Horatio hesitated for a second, then pressed on. "Andrew Du Pree is wrong. Calleigh wasn't . . . isn't unhappy."

"Maybe it was something she wasn't comfortable sharing." Samantha stared at Horatio over the rim of her cup. If that was the case, she thought, she had more in common with Calleigh than anyone knew. "What's been happening in her life lately?"

"Her best friend was murdered a few weeks ago but Calleigh caught the man who did it. I know she misses Janet but . . . she wouldn't run away."

"What's her family like?"

"She doesn't talk about them much. They're not close. The team at CSI are more like a family. Samantha, I know you're trying to help, but trust me when I say this: Calleigh would never just disappear. She would have contacted one of us if she were planning on staying here longer. She knows we'd worry."

Samantha didn't want to ask this question, but she had to. "Just how close were you?"

"We're friends. Good friends. That's all."

She wondered whom he was trying to convince. "You have to face the possibility that we might not find her."

He said nothing, but his jaw tensed. Samantha covered his hand with hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "That doesn't mean we're going to stop looking," she said.



Part 3

Stones turned out to be a dingy pool hall on the Lower East Side. The room stank of stale smoke and it took a moment for Samantha's eyes to adjust to the dim light. It was closed for business but the owner sat at the bar, taking a stock count. Samantha let Horatio take the lead, instinctively knowing that he needed to feel useful. She hung back slightly and followed him through the maze of pool tables.

The owner stubbed out his cigarette and extended a nicotine-stained hand. "You must be the Feds. I'm Joey Romano. What can I do you for?"

Samantha wondered what had brought Calleigh to a place like this. She smiled politely as Horatio introduced them and glanced around the room. Maybe the music was good, she thought.

Horatio passed Joey a photograph of Calleigh. "Did you see this woman here on Tuesday night?"

Joey studied the photograph then nodded. "Yeah, I remember her. She was with a guy." He turned and pointed to a corner table. "They played a couple of rounds there, then had a few drinks at the bar."

"Did you hear what they were speaking about?"

"It was kinda hard not to hear, if you know what I'm saying."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"They were arguing. Well, really, he was doing most of the talking and she just sat there. I felt kinda bad for her."

Samantha looked up from the notes she'd been taking. "What was he saying?"

"Stuff about how she shouldn't have left. How he wanted her back. You know, couple stuff."

"Couple stuff?"

"Yeah. Then he tried to kiss her."

"He tried to kiss her?" Horatio's voice was tight.

"She didn't let him. She just got up and left, as calm as anything. Good for her, I say. She can do better than him. Guys who talk to women like that don't deserve 'em." Joey smiled at Samantha in a way that implied he wasn't one of those guys.

"Did he follow her?"

"Nope. He sat there for a long time. Had three beers. He left about an hour or so later."

Horatio shook Joey's hand again. "Thanks very much, Mr. Romano."

When he and Samantha were outside again, he stared up at the sky. "His account differs from Du Pree's."

"I know."

"So, who's lying?"

Samantha took a deep breath. "Romano's got nothing to gain by lying."

Horatio nodded. "I think it's time to talk to Du Pree again."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Horatio interviewed Andrew Du Pree at Missing Persons headquarters. He made Andrew wait fifteen minutes in the interrogation room before beginning. Samantha followed Horatio into the room and slipped quietly into the seat next to him.

Horatio stared at Andrew long enough for the other man to feel like a criminal. He shifted in his seat and looked at Samantha. Her eyes were fixed on the table.

Horatio opened a file. He'd read and re-read the words so many times prior to the interview that he didn't have to look down to recite them. "Lieutenant Andrew Du Pree. Thirty-five years old, never married. Ten years with the New Orleans PD. Spotless record. Two citations for bravery."

Samantha took over. "But you lied to me the other day. We spoke with the owner of Stones. He says—"

Andrew sighed. "Not really. Calleigh was unhappy."

"Unhappy that you tried to kiss her?" Under the table, Horatio's hands clenched into fists.

"It's time to come clean, Lieutenant. The way things are looking, you're the prime suspect." Samantha wasn't sure whether she was angry with him for lying or mad at herself for liking him.

"I would never do anything to hurt Calleigh!" Andrew leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. "Look, Calleigh and I dated, a long time ago. We were only together for a month before she broke it off to go to Miami."

He said the word with distaste and Horatio tensed. "And why didn't you tell Agent Spade?"

"I didn't think it was important. Cal made it clear that she wasn't interested in picking things up where we left off. I'm not real proud of the way I behaved and I called her the next morning to apologize, but there was no answer. I thought she'd already left for the day."

"You didn't seem too worried when I told you she was missing," Samantha said.

"I wasn't, then. Calleigh's like that. Impetuous . . . yeah, that's the word. She's impetuous. Impulsive. She likes doing things on the spur of the moment. I thought she'd bunked off the rest of the conference to do a little sightseeing. I thought she'd turn up again in her own time." He shook his head. "I always used to tell her doing things on the spur of the moment would get her into trouble."

Horatio's eyes narrowed. The Calleigh he knew was unpredictable, but she was certainly not as rash as Andrew claimed. But, he wondered, perhaps he didn't know her at all. "What do you mean by that?"

"Take Miami, for instance." Andrew was on a roll now. "Someone shows up offering a job and without blinking, she accepts it. And just a week before, she turned down an offer to join the FBI. I'll tell you one thing, if I had the choice between the FBI and a little crime lab in Miami, I'd choose the FBI. Guess y'all would say the same."

Samantha glanced at Horatio, relieved to see he appeared calm. Then he smiled – a deadly, predatorial smile – and Samantha found herself glad that she wasn't on the receiving end of it.

"Then you never understood Calleigh," Horatio said. "She doesn't do a job for what she can get out of it. I knew that much about her the day we met. It's why I invited her to Miami. Calleigh likes to be challenged." He paused, looked Andrew up and down. "I can imagine that part of the reason she ended things with you is that she found you less than challenging."

"Or too challenging."

Samantha masked her snort as a cough. She wondered what she'd been attracted to aside from Andrew's good looks and charming accent, and privately agreed with Horatio's assessment of him as less than challenging.

"Whatever the case," Andrew said, leaning back in his chair to deliver his closing shot, "if I were you, I'd speak to Agent Douglas. He was the one who wanted her to join the FBI."

"Agent Douglas?"

Andrew nodded. "Agent Barry Douglas. The man who organized the conference."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Samantha didn't think it was a good idea for Horatio to interview Barry and said as much. She wasn't surprised that he disagreed.

"Look, Horatio," she said and put her hand on his arm. She couldn't know that it was something Calleigh often did. When he stepped back and pulled his arm free, she set her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

"I'm worried about you. You're letting your feelings for Calleigh get in the way—"

He looked at her then with such raw despair that she wanted to hug him, but she knew he wouldn't let her.

"Sam, I have to her find her."

It was only later she realized that she'd let him call her Sam.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Horatio, Samantha and Jack interviewed Barry Douglas. As a courtesy to his friend, Jack held the meeting in Barry's office instead of one of the interview rooms. Horatio sat to one side and watched carefully for any hint that Barry was lying. Samantha sat next to him and kept casting worried glances in his direction.

"You never mentioned how you knew Calleigh Duquesne," Jack said.

"It didn't seem important."

"Everything's important."

"The New Orleans field office was tracking that serial rapist a couple of years back. You remember the guy who shot the husbands in the head and attacked the wives? Calleigh's ballistics skills were the only reason the guy was caught. I was impressed. I asked her if she'd ever considered joining the Bureau. She said she was happy with her job."

"She transferred to Miami a week later."

Barry nodded and addressed his answer to Horatio. "Calleigh would have hated being an agent. The FBI's loss was Miami's gain."

"So there were no hard feelings?"

"No. Not at all. I was happy for her."

"You invited her to New York, is that right?"

"Look, Jack, I understand why I'm a suspect but I had nothing to do with her disappearance. Yes, I invited her up here."

"Why?"

"Because she's the best in her field."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Samantha asked.

"Tuesday night, after her lecture. I introduced her to Jack. We chatted for a bit, then she left. Jack and I had a drink and I went home. You can check that with my wife. On Wednesday I attended lectures from nine until three. Then I—"

"All right," Jack said. He stood. "Thank you, Barry. I'm sorry about this. We had to ask."

"I know."

Horatio was very quiet as they left Barry's office. Jack caught Samantha's eye and tilted his head for her to follow. She looked at Horatio as she passed him.

"Talk to everyone at the hotel again. Someone must have seen something. People don't just disappear into thin air."

Except, Samantha thought, sometimes they did.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Horatio stared at his reflection in the bar counter. Mike, the bartender, put another drink in front of him. Horatio tilted his head back and let the liquid burn down his throat. He knew he shouldn't be drinking but he needed the numbness that the alcohol brought. He didn't want to feel Calleigh's absence and hoped that if he got drunk enough, he could forget. He'd done the same the night Ray had died.

"Hey, Horatio."

She'd found him that night and driven him home. He'd kissed her, and she'd let him fall asleep in her arms.

"Come on, Horatio. Let's go."

He decided that tonight he wouldn't leave it there. Because in the morning she'd be gone and he wanted to remember. As she took his arm to steady him, he pulled her close and kissed her.

Samantha wasn't sure how to react. The last thing she'd expected when she'd walked up to Horatio was that he'd kiss her. She ducked her head and stepped back.

"Uh, you should, umm, get back to your hotel. You need to sleep this off."

She couldn't look at him during the cab ride but she felt his gaze on her. He took her hand in the elevator ride up to his room and smiled, and her heart broke for him. The love she saw in his eyes was for a woman who, for all they knew, could already be dead.

She should have stayed in the cab, she thought.

Horatio's hand shook as he unlocked the door then stepped aside to let her enter. She wondered what the hell she was doing there. And then his hands were on her waist and his lips were on her neck and it didn't matter.

"Calleigh . . ."

Samantha blinked back tears. He would hate her in the morning, she realized, but right now she needed to be loved as much as he needed someone to love.

They stumbled to the bed, discarding clothing on the way. Her calves hit the mattress and she fell backwards. He knelt over her, kissing and touching and murmuring words too low for her to hear.

Afterwards, Samantha held him until he fell asleep. Then she slipped quietly out of bed and got dressed. She hesitated at the door, looked back over her shoulder, then left.

She arrived home to find a message from Jack on her answering machine. Sam? Are you there? . . . Uh, I was wondering . . . Never mind, I'll see you tomorrow.

Samantha played the message again, then sat on the couch and buried her face in her hands. "Damn it, Jack, why do you keep doing this?"



Part 4

Samantha was on her third cup of coffee when Horatio arrived at the office the next morning. She focused her attention on her mug when he looked at her.

"Sam?"

"Morning." Her smile was a little too bright.

"About last night, I'm sorry. I wasn't myself. I know that's absolutely no excuse but I need you to know I never meant—"

"Horatio, it's okay. Don't worry about it."

He didn't look convinced.

"Look, you didn't take advantage of me or anything, I promise. Please don't feel bad about it."

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "It was unfair of me."

In an instant, she understood. It wasn't guilt for himself, or even her. "This is about Calleigh, isn't it?"

He said nothing and she knew she was right.

"You feel that you've been unfaithful to her."

"We were never together, in that sense."

Samantha shrugged. "It doesn't change the way you feel about her. Horatio, don't feel guilty. In your head, you were with her last night. And . . . you have to face the possibility that she might not come back."

Horatio surprised her then and took her hand. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"What's hard?"

"To see someone everyday and realize one day that you're in love but can never, ever, have that person."

Samantha pulled her hand away and stood. "I don't know what you mean."

Jack chose that moment to arrive. Horatio raised his eyebrow at Samantha. She flushed and sipped her coffee to hide her discomfort. If Jack noticed the tension in the room, he said nothing.

"We got lucky. I have phone records from Tuesday night showing that one phone call came into Calleigh's room. It's a cell phone belonging to a William Mansell. He registered for the conference and one of the lectures he signed up for was Calleigh's."

Horatio looked up, new life in his eyes. "Do we have an address?"


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The first time Calleigh Duquesne woke up, she was still too drugged to understand what was happening. The next time, her mind was clear and her arms ached from the position she lay in. Aerosmith blared in her ears, a blindfold covered her eyes and she was gagged. When she tried to move, pain shot through her shoulder blades and she lay still and prayed for relief.

The third time, she was jerked awake as her captor ripped the duct tape from her mouth. She breathed in deep gulps of air, mistakenly thinking that she was being rescued. But the blindfold and the earphones remained in place, and there was no attempt to remove the handcuffs from her wrists. She felt a straw at her lips and tentatively sucked on it. When she discovered it was water, she wanted to cry.

Too soon, it was pulled away and more tape covered her mouth. She struggled, unaware of whom or why she was fighting. The handcuffs dug into her already raw wrists and she moaned against the gag.

Please, she thought, please just let me go.

There were hands on her cheek. Hands in her hair. Lips on her forehead. She twisted her head away. Steve Tyler screamed in her ear. The blindfold was damp with her tears.

At this point, it was easy to surrender to the fear that had threatened to overwhelm her since the second awakening.

Calleigh let go.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


William Mansell lived in Queens in an apartment block that had seen better days. He answered his door with a smile and seemed unsurprised that the FBI wanted to speak to him.

"Yeah, I was at the conference," he said. "I heard one of the speakers went missing. That's not cool."

"Mr. Mansell, you're not a law enforcement officer. What exactly was your interest in the conference?" Horatio and Jack had agreed beforehand that Samantha would do the questioning, partly because of her resemblance to Calleigh and partly because people always tended to underestimate her.

Mansell's smile widened. "I'm a writer. I thought it would be useful research, you know. For my novel. It's a thriller."

"Thrilling."

Mansell narrowed his eyes and dropped his gaze from Samantha's eyes to her chest, then her legs. "My central protagonist is a female FBI agent. Think 'Silence of the Lambs', but not. You know, we should have dinner sometime. I'd like some insight into your job."

Samantha was sure that wasn't the only thing he wanted insight into. She cleared her throat and glanced at Jack and Horatio. Neither one of them seemed impressed with William Mansell.

"You attended Calleigh Duquesne's lecture, is that correct?"

"Yep."

"And you called her that night."

"If you say so, it must be true."

Samantha smiled. "What did you speak about? Our records show the call lasted seven minutes."

"There's a shooting in my novel. I wanted her opinion on the accuracy of the scene. She agreed to meet me for breakfast on Wednesday morning but, unfortunately, she never arrived. I thought she'd changed her mind. I called her hotel again but she wasn't there either."

Samantha nodded. "And where were you supposed to meet?"

"Nino's. They've got the best waffles."

"Okay. I think that's all, Mr. Mansell. Thanks for your time."

"Please, call me Will. And give me a call when you close this case. I'd love to talk to you about it."

It was a struggle for Samantha not to laugh at the look of horror on Jack's face. "Good luck with your novel."

As they stood to leave, Horatio asked, "What did you do about the scene?"

"Which scene?"

"The shooting."

Mansell shrugged. "I'm thinking of scrapping it. It's a psychological thriller anyway. Think Jonathan Kellerman. Think Jeffrey Deaver."

Jack handed Mansell a card. "If you think of anything else, please let us know."

"No problem."

Samantha was pleased to be out of Mansell's apartment. "Well?" she asked.

"The story seems solid," Jack said.

"What about you, Horatio? Do you think Calleigh would have agreed to meet him?"

Horatio nodded. "Probably."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Nino's catered to a young crowd, mostly college-age people. Samantha followed Jack to the counter. As they waited for the manager, Samantha realized it was just she and Jack and she felt suddenly awkward.

"I'm sorry I missed your call last night," she said.

Jack didn't look at her but she felt him stiffen next to her.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"It's not important."

"Jack—"

"Can I help you folks?" The manager had purple hair, a nose ring and a nametag that identified him as Mickey. Or her, Samantha thought. It was hard to tell when everyone was so androgynous. He (or she) smiled at the agents. "Table for two?"

Jack showed Mickey his badge. "Agent Malone. This is Agent Spade. We're investigating a disappearance."

"No way!"

"Yes way. Were you working on Wednesday morning?"

"Yeah."

Jack took out a photo of Calleigh. "Did you see this woman here?"

Mickey nodded and pointed to a table near the window. "She was sitting over there with Will."

"William Mansell?"

Mickey rolled her (or his) eyes. "Yeah. He's always in here talking about the novel he's supposedly writing."

Samantha and Jack looked at each, both feeling that they'd finally got a break. Samantha leaned forward. "Do you know what they were talking about?"

"Max!" Mickey yelled. A pretty girl (or boy, Samantha thought as she took in Max's appearance) approached the counter.

"Yeah?"

"You had Will's table on Wednesday, right? With the hot blonde?"

Max nodded.

"What did they talk about?"

"He was showin' her some pages, from his book, I guess. Somethin' about a shootin'. I didn't, like, listen to their whole conversation or anythin'. But they were here for, like, an hour an' a half. She was makin' notes an' shakin' her head an' stuff."

"Did they argue about anything?"

"Nope. He was, like, upset but he didn't say nothin'. He paid for the meal and called a cab for her."

"What did he do after she left?"

"Nothin'. He got in the cab with her."

Samantha glanced outside at Horatio. He was on the phone to someone in Miami. She left Jack to thank Max and Mickey and went to fill Horatio in.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


William Mansell picked up his notepad and sat at the foot of his bed. Calleigh had stopped struggling a while ago; he hoped she wasn't dead. That wouldn't do, not before they had the chance to chat about what she'd felt. He made a few notes about the FBI's visit. This was the best idea he'd had – the novel was going to be great. He decided he'd wait a few days before calling the female agent. He needed to finish this bit of research first.

He wondered what Calleigh would have thought if she'd known the FBI had been in the very next room, looking for her, and congratulated himself on his cleverness. This was going to make a great scene. He turned the hi-fi off and removed the earphones. Calleigh didn't move, even when he shook her shoulder.

"Ahh, shit. Not good."

Then he brightened; here was the opportunity for him to dispose of a body. He smiled. "Now that's what I call invaluable research."

He stepped back and ran through his options. He always thought best out loud. "Butcher knife . . . too messy, too much time. Dumpster in an alley? Maybe . . . Or I could dump her in the park. Acid to disguise her? Nah, where would I get acid anyway? Fire? Or I could dump her in the Hudson . . . Hmm, this is harder than I thought."

There was a loud crash as the SWAT team broke through the front door. Mansell hardly had time to think before he was pinned to the floor by a heavy body.

"This is not cool," he mumbled into the carpet. "I know my rights. You can't just do this."

Horatio was the first at Calleigh's side. He pulled the blindfold off and removed the gag. "Calleigh? Cal, talk to me. Calleigh, wake up!"

The paramedics pushed him aside and started to work on her. "I've got a pulse," one of them said, and Horatio remembered how to breathe again. He felt Samantha's hand on his arm as they took Calleigh away. He turned to her, certain that her smile mirrored his, and hugged her.

"You got her back," Samantha said. "Your second chance. Don't waste it."

He didn't intend to.



Part 5

Something called to Calleigh from far away. She tried to block it out. She didn't want to leave; she was safe here. He couldn't hurt her here.

There was no music. She could breathe through her mouth. She heard Horatio, clearer than before. He was real here; she could smell his cologne.

"She's not awake yet?" It was a woman's voice. Not Alexx, not Adele, not Yelina.

"No. The doctor says it might be a while still." Someone's fingers stroked her arm. Horatio's? she wondered. It was definitely his voice.

"Mansell made a full confession. He said it was all part of his research," the woman said.

"Research! He kidnapped Calleigh, kept her tied up, starved her . . . research?!"

"For the novel he's supposedly working on. He said he wanted – Hey, look who's joined us."

Calleigh blinked at the stranger. Then she looked at Horatio and she knew it was really over.

"Calleigh."

She licked her lips, oddly nervous.

"Cal, this is Samantha. She worked on your case."

"Sorry." It hurt to speak.

"Don't be." Samantha smiled. "It's not your fault. I'm just glad we found you."

"Sorry you had to put up with him," Calleigh said.

Samantha laughed and Calleigh decided she liked her. "Yeah. I don't think you should disappear again any time soon though."

"Never again." Horatio tightened his grasp on Calleigh's arm.

"Right. I'm, uh, going to be on my way. It was great to finally meet you, Calleigh." Samantha slipped away unnoticed.

Horatio brushed Calleigh's hair away from her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I was lost, Cal. I've forgotten how to live without you."

"Horatio . . ."

"When you get better, I want to show you how important you are to me, okay?" He wiped away her tears with his thumb. "I love you."

"Horatio, I . . ."

"Shh, you just rest. I'm not going anywhere."

Calleigh was too exhausted to answer. She drifted to sleep; her fingers entwined with Horatio's and a smile on her face.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"She's dehydrated and her joints are pretty stiff, but she wasn't assaulted in any way." Horatio spoke softly onto the phone, reluctant to wake Calleigh. "There's some minor damage to her eardrums but the specialist said it's probably temporary. The doctors are positive that she'll recover quickly."

"And her mental state?" Alexx asked.

Horatio shrugged, though he knew Alexx couldn't see. "I don't know. She . . . she hasn't spoken about it to me. Or anyone."

"Give her time, Horatio. She won't be better overnight."

"I know."

Alexx sighed; Horatio sounded so dejected. "Look, make sure she takes some leave when she gets back here. I'll convince her to see my friend Susan."

"Good." He'd gone to see Susan after Ray's death and even now, when things got too bad at work, he'd give her a call. He hoped that Alexx would be able to convince Calleigh to speak to her.

"When are you guys coming home?"

"In a couple of days. The sooner the better."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"Mansell was right about one thing." Samantha leaned against the doorjamb of Jack's office.

"And what was that?"

"It would have made a great novel." When Jack didn't respond, Samantha came into the office and sat down. "You think he would have killed her?"

"Probably."

Samantha shuddered. "And he wanted to 'discuss' things with me. Who knows what he really had in mind?"

Jack reached across the desk and covered her hand with his. "You know I'd look for you, right? If you were ever missing, I wouldn't rest until I found you."

"Uh . . ." Samantha's voice stuck in her throat, not that she could think of a reply anyway.

"I've treated you badly, Sam," he continued, and she wished that she were anywhere else but in his office. "I'm sorry for that. You deserve more. You deserve the best."

Samantha closed her eyes, remembering that last night together. Remembering the awful fight, the tears after he left, her words echoing through her mind: I won't be your mistress anymore. I can't. It isn't right. It isn't fair to you, to me, to Marie, to the girls.

"I'm sorry, Sam." His other hand brushed her cheek and, despite herself, she leaned into his touch. "Maybe we'll get it right in our next lifetime."

She nodded and pulled away from him. "I, uh, have a thing I need to do."

She didn't look back as she walked away from him.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"He showed me this scene of a shooting. It was awful! He had bullets flying from every direction, dead bodies everywhere and the lead character was in the middle of all of it and didn't even have a scratch!"

Horatio listened with a smile on his face; it was good to hear Calleigh laugh and he thought that maybe she would be okay after all. She still wouldn't talk about what happened after the breakfast, but hearing about William Mansell's terrible writing was a start.

"But at least the waffles were good. Only thing was, I couldn't figure out if our waiter was a guy or a girl!"

He decided to test how far she would go. "You know, Max was the break in the case."

Calleigh chewed her thumbnail. "I knew you'd find me. It didn't matter whether I lived or not, I knew you wouldn't just let it go. At one stage I wished he would just kill me and dump my body somewhere so that you could have closure."

Horatio wasn't prepared to hear that. "Calleigh . . ."

"Do you think you could get us some ice cream or something? My throat's pretty sore."

"Sure." At the door, he turned back to her. "You'd let me know if you were ever unhappy, right?"

"Yes. Of course. Why?"

He shrugged. "Just something someone said."

Calleigh groaned. "You spoke to Andy, didn't you? Forget whatever he said. He's still bitter about me breaking up with him. Truth is, I'd have broken up with him even if I'd stayed in New Orleans."

Horatio smiled, relieved. "Okay. Chocolate chip?"


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"It's good to see you again, Calleigh," Jack said. "I'm only sorry we couldn't find you sooner."

"Better late than never." Calleigh chuckled. "But that's the last time I ever speak at a conference."

"Agent Douglas will be sorry to hear that. I think he's already planning next year's conference."

"Well, it's the last time I agree to meet any wannabe novelists!"

Jack smiled, glad to see Calleigh's sense of humor had remained intact. "So you're getting discharge this afternoon?"

"Yes, thank God. We're flying back to Miami tonight."

"So soon?"

"My father won't believe I'm fine until he sees me with his own eyes. You know how parents can be. Besides, I want to go home."

"I hope this hasn't put you off New York for good."

"Of course not." She laughed. "I'll have to come back to finish my sightseeing."

"Maybe with Horatio, hmm?" He smiled, but there was a wistful note in his voice. Calleigh was pretending too hard that she was okay to wonder what was with him.

"Maybe."

"I hope you two manage to work everything out."

It was a different, quieter Calleigh who asked, "He took it badly, didn't he?"

"It was hard on him, yes."

"This changed everything. He's different now. I suppose I'm different too. God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this but I can't tell him."

"Calleigh?" It struck Jack that she wasn't fine. He didn't know what to say.

"He looks at me like he's afraid I'll break and I can't stand it. Before . . . I had hoped that we would someday be more than friends but now . . ." She shook her head and stared out the window, her eyes glistening. "I don't know if I want that anymore."

"Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know. It's like I don't know anything anymore. All I want is to go home and get back to work and pretend this never happened."

Jack sighed; he was hardly the right person to talk to when it came to relationships. "I think you should be discussing this with him."

"I'm scared. I had everything figured out before. I was in control and everything was fine and now . . . it's all changed."

"No one expects you to get over this immediately."

Calleigh rolled onto her side, away from Jack. "I think I'd like to be alone right now."

"Okay. Uh, can I get you anything."

"I'm fine."

"Okay." Jack was reluctant to leave her but he did as she asked. As he walked down the hallway, her words echoed in his head: I was in control and everything was fine and now it's all changed. She might as well have been talking about him and Samantha.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Calleigh took the window seat on the plane. She wondered if she should even bother to pretend or if she should let Horatio know how she really felt. She felt his gaze on her and picked up the in-flight magazine.

"Calleigh—"

"Thanks for packing all my stuff."

"No worries."

"I meant to get presents for everyone but with being kidnapped and all . . ." She trailed off when she saw the look on Horatio's face. "Sorry."

"Why do you keep apologizing? None of this is your fault." He took her hand. "I'm just relieved that we found you in time."

Calleigh pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry about us. It isn't going to work. I'm too . . . I don't know. I'm confused."

"I'm not going to lose you, Calleigh. I will wait as long as it takes, but I won't give up on what we have."

Calleigh stared out the window. A long time later, she said, "I can't promise that I'll ever be the same person I was before all of this. I'm just . . . I feel like a part of me died in that room and . . . I don't know. I don't want to rush into anything with you when I don't even know myself anymore." She turned to look at him, surprised to see he was smiling.

"You're going to be just fine, Cal."

After a while, she smiled too. "As long as it takes?"

"As long as it takes."

She slipped her hand in his and leaned back in her seat. "Wake me when we land."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Samantha sat in her apartment, absently petting her purring cat. Bogey rolled onto his back, offering her his belly. She shook her head. "Get over it, Bogart. You're not a dog."

His response was to stretch, opening his mouth in a yawn.

"So, Horatio and Calleigh are on their way back to Miami. I'm happy for them. I think he'd have been destroyed if we'd found her too late."

Bogey let out a contented sigh.

"Too bad we can't all get a happy ending, huh? But I do have you, so that's got to count for something." Samantha laughed. "And so, it starts. I'm going to be one of those old women who sits and talks to her cats!"

When the knock came, Samantha didn't need to look through the keyhole to know who it was. She sighed, pushed Bogey off her lap and stood. She opened the door and slowly raised her eyes to meet Jack's.

"She left again."

Samantha bit her bottom lip. She knew what would happen if she let Jack in. On the other hand, he was clearly upset and she couldn't, in clear conscience, turn him away.

"I won't be your mistress," she said.

"Understood."

The door swung shut as he stepped into her arms.

The End.



Author's notes: For various reasons, this story was surprisingly difficult to write. At one stage I left it to gather dust on my hard drive (not that files on hard drives can gather dust, but you know what I mean). Many thanks must go to Diane for betaing.

I listened to Evanescence almost continuously while I wrote this and one song in particular stands out when it comes to the meaning of the story:

Taking Over Me
You don't remember me
But I remember you
I lie awake and try so hard
Not to think of you
But who can decide what they dream?
And dream I do . . .
I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you to live to breathe
You're taking over me
Have you forgotten all I know
And all we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you
And touched my hand
I knew you loved me then
I believe in you
I'll give up everything just to find you
I have to be with you to live to breathe
You're taking over me
I look in the mirror and see your face
If I look deep enough
So many things inside that are
Just like you are taking over