Displaced

He had ordered chinese take-out to be delivered so they wouldn't have to leave, and they'd dined with he on the bed and she sitting cross legged on the floor. Night had begun to fall, and after a day spent together, trading stories and thoughts, both felt quite comfortable and at ease with the other. He was so soft and easy with her, his tone always low and unthreatening, but she could always sense the hard edge laying just underneath it all... and that was why she liked him. And as the day wore on, she found herself liking him more and more.
In her life, love had always found her in unusual ways, more often than not violent, or at least situations unexpected. As far as unexpected went, it seemed inevitable that this whole situation would end dully and without fervor, but throughout the day they shared a series of moments fraught with tension of the most primal kind; shared by a look, an unecessary touch or one that lingered.
He'd wanted his wound to breathe a bit, so only after a few hours did she attempt to re-dress it. After digging out bandages from under the sink, she called him in as she found a pot of salve. He was still wearing the robe, and she waggled her finger indicatively at it for him to remove it, as she sat on the closed lid of the toilet and beckoned him to stand before her. He shucked the robe off to stand again in only his boxers, and she grinned up at him as she unscrewed the cap of balm and gently smeared a fingerful over the weal on his side. He hissed, but more from the cold of it then pain. The pills had seen to the latter, and she'd made sure he took them religiously. The bandage was an ace, the long kind that she had to wrap around his torso, and she did so carefully - reaching around his waist and pulling it gently against his skin. As she reached the end of the wrap, she had to bend over and extend again to tuck the loose end under the wrappings on his opposite side, bringing her face close to the bare skin of his belly. Preoccupied with thoughts she felt she oughtn't be having, as her fingers worked dexterously and parted lips exhaled warm puffs of air over his skin, she was staring at the pale flesh just above his navel and subconsciously counting the freckles visible beside the fine trail of coppery hair. A broken whisper simultaneously jerked through her, and faltered her heart.
'Revelle...'
She swallowed and pulled back a bit, her heart hammering in her breast. As she lifted her gaze up to his, she started to bring her hands back to herself, but his own wide hands upon her hair stopped her. She could do nothing, it seemed, but sit there looking up at the wolfish look on his face as his fingers tangled in her hair, then slid over her cheeks and down over her exposed throat. One hand caressed the side of her neck, while the other strayed lower to splay fingers over her collarbone. Dark lashes fluttered closed as his fingers moved over her skin, leaving heated trails that took her breath away. She purred softly as she pried her eyes open, her head tilted back so that her gaze locked onto his as soon as her lashes parted, and the look on his face sent a sultry curl of desire through her belly.
Her hands turned to trace over his skin, above the wrapped sash of the bandage, and she stood up slowly from her seated position on the toilet lid. His already close proximity was suddenly brought into sharp focus as she found herself nearly nose to chin with him, chest to chest. She couldn't breathe, her heart was beating so hard against her ribs, and the sound reverberated in her ears like a roar that filled her senses. His hands slid back up her neck and buried in her hair, toying with the fine strands at her nape, as her own fingers moved slowly up his strong chest, and were promptly forgotten as her head was pulled firmly back to meet the downward tilt of his mouth. His lips brushed her own, and her knees trembled as he whispered against her mouth.
'You are so beautiful, Revelle...'
Dark eyes fluttered closed in response, her lips parting slowly for his. She flattened her palms upon his back and held him closer as he claimed her mouth hungrily, and she returned it eagerly, surprising herself for a moment. She was terrified of him, this new version of the baleful, caring man she'd spent the day with, and, at the same time, she wanted him badly. A low moan slid from her throat as her tongue met with his, and his hands cradled her head gently as she leaned into him. Long minutes passed before they pulled apart, and it was she who broke the kiss. His hands fell away, but hers came up to trace her thumb over his lower lip, with a sad smile.
'Oh Horatio... you are unlike any man I know... but I'm not like the girls you know here...' She faltered, her dark eyes searching his paler blue ones while she hunted internally for the words to explain to him. With a small frown and a sigh, she sat back down on the closed lid of the toilet. He mirrored her frown, and tilted her chin up gently.
'Hey,' he whispered, 'What's the matter? Not like girls I know here? The last time I looked, Revelle, you were no girl. You are a brave young woman, and that is what sets you apart.'
She laughed ruefully and pulled her chin away, even as her hands reached for his to soften the rudeness of her gesture. She toyed with his fingers, silent for a long moment, before looking back up to him. 'No, that's not what I mean. Damnit, I don't know if I can make you understand...'
His coppery head tilted to one side, as the frown deepened. He could still taste her on his lips, and as he looked down at her, he wanted more - but he was wondering what it was that she was holding back. Was she pregnant, or married? Or wanted from some state or in the UK where her school was? His mind wracked rapidly through the possibilities. 'Revelle, what are you trying to tell me? It will be much easier to just say it, whatever it is. I'll understand, and I promise I'll do whatever I can if you're in some sort of trouble...' He broke off as she laughed again, an odd combination of mirth and bitterness.
'No, no... nothing like that. There's just something you should know about me, and it will be hard for you to swallow. You might not even believe me, because I lost something in that alley that would allow me to show you completely...' At the look on his face, she sighed softly, and continued, with a little nod. 'Alright then. Horatio... I'm a witch.' She watched him anxiously for a reaction, but he gave her none but a slow smile and a nod of understanding.
'Wiccan or Druid? I'm not really familiar with either, but I have a working knowledge. Your religion is no concern of mine, Revelle.'
A slight smirk had appeared on her face, as she shook her head, gazing up at him.
'No... Horatio... it's not a religion, and it's neither of those wanna-be imitators. I'm talking about magic. Real, workable magic. The stuff of legends and fairy tales, Horatio.. and I'm not crazy. I lost my wand in that alley when that goon grabbed me, and I'm fairly helpless without it. Wandless magic has never been my forte.'
He was looking at her with a motionless expression, slightly frozen between an indulgent smile and kindly disbelief behind his eyes. Revelle scanned his face, then released a slow breath, as though trying to soothe her nerves. With a small click of her tongue, a frown furrowed her brow.
'You see... you don't get it. Or you think I'm nuts... so I'll have to show you, won't I?' Phrased more like an intention then a request, she brought her hands up to cup lightly over the ragged wound on his side, still half covered by the trailing bandage she'd not finished winding. Closing her eyes, she set her mouth in a tight line, only breaking it to say, 'Don't move... it won't hurt, but you'll feel it.' If I do it right, she added, internally. Concentration laced her features, and she missed the odd look that crossed his face.
Without her wand to channel the power, she had to simultaneously search for the right configuration of healing, as well as the means to suffer it through her hands to his body. A few pregnant moments passed without result, and Horatio was on the verge of pulling her hands away when he twitched suddenly. His mouth was parted, lips already forming soft words to indulge her, when a low tingle began to form under the throb of pain in his side. Horatio's mouth clamped shut, and he shot a startled look down to her, amazed to find a pulsating blue glow growing under her hands, the light coming from between her loosely held fingers. The tingle grew, similar to the feeling of a foot or hand that had fallen asleep and begun to reawaken, so intense he almost had to move away from it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the sensation had stopped, and Revelle dropped her hands from his side and rubbed them fiercely together as if they hurt. Horatio stopped to ask her about them, noting that the palms were red, before he realized that the pain in his side had diminished.
While she watched him with a tight smile, he stared at her as his hands unwound the bandage, then fingered his side tentatively. A frown on his face, Horatio turned to the mirror, then cast an amazed look upon the raven haired young woman sitting upon his toilet with a bemused smile on her lips.
'Believe me now?' She grinned, then pushed her hair out of her face and leaned forward to look closer at the wound. 'It's not completely healed, but it will be in a few days. I repaired most of the damage made by the bullet, now it's just up to your body to seal itself.' She ran a fingertip around the red circle, and added, 'If I'd had my wand I could have done it better.' She glanced up at his frozen features, then away again. It would take him some time to grasp what had happened, she knew, so she lifted herself sideways off the lid and walked silently out of the bathroom to leave him with his thoughts. She was two steps out of the door, when Horatio caught her gently and spun her around to press her back to the hallway wall. In the half light, he studied her face carefully, as if memorising her features as he traced them with his fingers. His mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds, while she faced him solemnly. Finally, he spoke, a hoarse whisper filled with emotion.
'That... Revelle... that was amazing! I mean.. imagine what could be done with such power... and there are others like you? If we could get some for the law enforcement, it would change the way the world works!'
His voice broke in his excitment, and she smiled at him sadly, but unwilling to move away from his proximity. She caught both of his hands with hers, and squeezed gently as she replied.
'Most muggles don't take it as well as that, Horatio. It's hard, usually unable, for them to understand.'
'Muggles... is that a derogatory term?'
She smiled, and shook her head gently. 'No, just what we call people like you.. normal, modern people. Wizards and witches, for all their abilities, tend to live a simpler life.. without many of the modern trappings. Electricity, mainly. Magic is used as a substitute, but it doesn't always work like electricity.'
Horatio was staring at her, fascinated. She released his hands and slid away against the wall, then plucked at his arm. 'Come on, lets go sit down. There is a lot to this story.' She smiled, and they went again to the only comfortable place in the bare condo, the bed. He laid down with much more ease than before, and she curled up comfortably alongside him, head on his pillow as she lay side by side with him.
'So all ... wizards... know about muggles? Where do you live? You, meaning.. the others.'
'We live everywhere that you do.. and in more remote places as well. An  d, yes, all wizards and witches know of muggles, but not many of them associate with them, or know their ways. The average wizard cannot pass as a muggle without help. In the ancient circles of pure blooded families, it's considered obscene and degrading. Just another form of racism, really. The high born families look down on muggles like a lower form of life, and they consider those of us who marry, or are born into muggle families, to be traitors to our own kind.' She sighed softly, and passed a hand over her face. Horatio shifted slightly, to look at her face as he asked,
'So which are you? If you hadn't shown me, I would never have guessed. You seem just like me.'
'I am like you, in a way. I was a muggle until I was twenty... then my powers manifested themselves, and I was summoned to attend school so I could control them. It turned out that my father is a squib...' She glanced at him, then held out her hand to tick off on her fingers. 'Okay, it's a little complicated. There's a few different kinds of wizarding folk. Purebloods - wizards whose families have no muggle blood in them. Half-bloods - wizards who have one muggle parent or a significant amount of muggle blood in their family. Muggle-born - neither parents have any magic, but for some reason at least one of their children does. Then there's the squibs. They come from wizarding families, but have no magic. My father was one of those, and left his family when he was very young to live as a muggle. Most squibs actually do that, it's easier to live with muggles than without magic in wizarding communities.'
'Revelle... What were you doing in that alley-way?' Horatio focused his gaze upon her face, surprising her with his question. She'd expected more of the wizarding ways of magic, or things of that nature, and now, confronted, she faltered under his scrutiny.
'Ah... um. Well, I'd come back to visit an old friend, thinking that I wasn't too long gone to go about as a muggle... and I must confess... I got lost. Without my wand I couldn't do anything. Thats why I must go back! I can't get home, Horatio, unless I have it! Please... will you help me?' She paused, scanning his face before continuing, 'You could come with me, you know. Take your vacation leave and come visiting.. see what it's really like.'
His expression changed, but he still replied, 'Is that allowed?'
'Of course it's allowed!' She laughed, and squeezed his hand. 'As long as you stayed with me, you'd be fine. And who knows, you might have some magic in you and never knew it!' A small grin teased the corner of her mouth, but she still saw some hesitancy lingering on his sage features. 'What?'
'Well... I guess I'm a little overwhelmed. But now that I feel better, we can go look for your wand. As long as we're not spotted. I'm supposed to be recuperating at home, not driving around downtown. You know, now that I think about it, I would trust any of my CSI's to search for your.. wand. In fact, they might already have it, if they were thorough on the scene.' He said the word as if it felt odd on his tounge, but slid his hand along her arm and craned his neck to look down at her. She shifted, lifting her chin to meet his gaze briefly before lowering her eyes to a more comfortable level, where her hand had stolen over to pluck at the corner of the pillow while she thought.
'And no one would question it?'
He found her chin with his fingers and angled it toward his gaze, silently noting how the bruising had faded and he'd simply not noticed. She'd had a split lip last night, and a true black-blue shiner on one eye and her cheek, and now the lip was healed - oh how he knew - and the bruises looked three days old, not less than 24 hours old.
'No. It's your belonging, and they'd probably identify it as yours by the fingerprints anyway. I'll call the lab right now.'
He started to get up, but she made a soft sound of protest and laid a warm hand on his belly, still bare from following her from the bathroom.
'It can wait until the morning, Horatio. I've managed to survive thus far without it...' And she didn't want to leave him just yet. Now that he was a little more healed, she was anticipating another plesant night curled up against him. She watched the subtle changes in his eyes, wondering what they signaled behind the mask of his face, and lifted a hand to trace his brow lightly. He closed his eyes under her delicate touch, and caught her wrist to place a soft kiss to the center of her palm. The soft brush of his lips there sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and instantly that switch was flipped once more. Where she'd been casual and relaxed mere seconds before, her body was gearing up as if for a marathon, complete with racing pulse and quickened breath, and all because of that one little touch. Now, she knew that was a lie, because it was more than that. The rhythm to his breathing, as well, and the intent heat of his eyes compiled it. She was rushed back to that passionate kiss in the bathroom, wondering how she could have ever let it that far away from her mind.
'Horatio...' She whispered, and even the simplicity of his name caught in her throat. He resosponded with a soft noise, and nuzzled her palm slowly, deliberately. She shivered and goosebumps broke out along her body, and she bent a knee to slide her leg along the length of his. Skin touched skin, warm and silky, and she turned futher toward him. The hand not holding hers slid around her back and drew warm lines with his fingertips, inducing her to lean onto his chest and press her own soft kiss above a pectoral muscle. He released her hand to it's own path once more, and she trailed it slowly down his chest to his abdomen, feeling the quiver in his belly below her fingertips as she moved her slow kisses north.
His hand on her back found its way to the hem of her shirt, really his  , and wormed under it to splay his broad palm upon her lower back. As she turned further, angling her knee between his legs and propping herself up on one elbow to allow her greater mobility to access him, her fingers skimmed along the waistband of his shorts and she placed a soft kiss at the base of his throat, then his jaw, and he turned his head as she moved to dust his lips with hers.
Soft and sensuous, slowly, she kissed him. Delighting in the taste of him, the feel of his gentle mouth against her own, she explored purposefully and deliberately in a leisurely manner. Her fingers slid teasingly along his abdomen, then edged under the waistband to trace excruciatingly slow lines ever lower. He groaned, a low and velvety sound from deep within his chest, and it sent an arc of pleasure through her. His other hand had fallen to her shoulder, but glided along her side slowly as she nudged upward with the knee snugly between his legs and simultaneously flicked his tounge with her own. So slowly as to relate some hesitancy, his knuckles grazed the side of her breast, as if proceeding carefully to guage her reaction.
His touch brought a slightly distracted sigh up from her throat, mingled between their lips, and she pulled back reluctantly. He pulled his hands away from her like he'd been shocked, and as she broke the kiss and was sliding her hand back up along the hard ridge of his stomach, a quiet, protesting appology was already fighting it's way free of his mouth. She silenced it with a kiss, and pulled back to show him a smile. Her intention was not to pull away, but simply to find a more comfortable position, one where both their hands would be free.
'Revelle..'
'Shh... don't move.'
Rolling back to her side then rising from the bed, she slowly unrolled the sleeves of her shirt, then worked her fingers in the knot holding it tied up about her waist. It fell, crumpled, to her thighs, where she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the shorts she wore and pushed them down over her hips. Her gaze ever on him  , she smiled at the hungry expression on his face, the flush to his pale skin, and, of course, that part of him which spoke his yearning male desire for her.
She stepped out of the shorts and moved back toward the bed where he lay propped up against the headboard, and his hands reached for her as she planted a knee beside his hip, guiding her about the waist as she swung her other leg over his lowr half and settled in his lap, facing him. Both of her hands on his chest, she leaned over him to plant the lightest of kisses on his lips, her fingers gliding through the silken copper hairs along his leanly muscled chest while her hair tickled his shoulders and jaw. His hands tightened on her skin, falling to grip her hips, then slide tenderly down her thighs and back up once, this time smoothing over her hips from under the shirt. He held her tightly and rocked his own hips upward slightly. She clearly felt the hardness of him pushing hotly up at her, restrained only by a thin peice of flannel, and gasped softly  when the motion rubbed at that sensitive nub aching gently between her own legs. The flare of desire fanned a little hotter, and she became very aware of the full weight of her breasts, of the hard aching tingle her nipples throbbed with, and a soft sigh fell from her lips again as she lowered them to his.
The kiss deepened with a powerful swiftness, a surge of passion that ebbed suddenly up from him, to her, and she found herself no longer in control of her body nor her mind. His hands ghosted up her sides from her hips, gliding along the outside of her shirt until he palmed the sides ofher breasts with both hands. Easing his hands around, he cupped them and found the aching nubs with forefinger and thumb. She gasped, her hips arcing against his, and he released her lips to drag his along her jaw, then down her throat. He felt her pulse quickening against his mouth, and could taste the heat of her as he rolled both nipples simultaneously, and worked his mouth along her leg. Her hands had been braced on her shoulders, but when he did that, she gave a low cry and skidded her palms up his neck to bury her fingers in his hair. He found her ear, and nibbled gently at her warm lobe, while her hips moved slowly against his, searching blindly for the thing they sought. He breathed against that delicate shell, articulating his words with another terribly slow, exquisite maneuver of his fingers.
'Do you like that, pretty? Then undo the buttons and we'll find something else you'll like...'
His words a husky, tickling whisper against her skin, she shuddered and cried out again, softly, as his fingers tormented her again. She lingered for a moment, holding his head, then pulled back from him, her hips performing a slow roll of their own volition, and gazed at the want in his eyes. It was mirrored by her own, a lusty glaze that softened the edges of everything, and she gave him a lazy smile as her fingers fell to the first button below her throat. He lay back and simply watched, his mouth quirked in an odd half-smile, while his fingers teased gently along her thighs.
He saw how much she was enjoying undressing for him, and as his loins strained in expectation, his heart panged softly, painfully. She was so lovely, so vital and young. What did she find in him to make that fire dance behind her eyes so? She deserved better than his limber, gaunt old frame... but the thought was quelled by the heat in her gaze. She wanted this, wanted him... and he was't going to fight it. Besides.. how could he?
Her slender fingers worked each button in turn, keeping the shirt closed until she reached the last, and he reached up to slide his own fingers along her shoulders, pushing the shirt open and back upon them. Her beautiful breasts were bared as he parted the fabric and brought it down behind her back to rest at her elbows, then splayed his fingers upon her throat. She tilted her head back, a stifled sigh as his fingers moved slowly down the center of her chest, parting ways below her breasts to stroke softly along her belly. The skin prickled and formed goosebumps in his wake, and as he watched, her pert nipples stiffened further, straining out toward him. He chuckled softly, a low sound, and lifted her breasts in his hands.. the very action had her gasping softly, but when he lowered his mouth to one of them, suckling gently while his other hand kneaded and rolled the neglected one, she cried out and bucked her hips against him, her hands again in his hair.
A low groan rolled from his chest, and any pain in his side was surely forgotten. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her forward as he leaned back, his other hand shucking down his boxers. She settled back slowly, angling her hips against him as she smiled at him through the veil of her dark hair, her mouth forming a soft 'o' of pleasure as his hardness slipped within her and she sank back upon him. He grunted softly against her breast, and she slowly stroked her hands up and down his chest, pushing him back to lie against the pillows and allow her the free range of movement her hips demanded.
Methodically, purely enjoying every moment of it, she sat astride his desire and sank it deeper and deeper into her own, building them both to the very brink... and for her, beyond. Her breathing quickened as her excitment grew, and he could smell the sweet scent of her sex... and knew just when, judging by her soft cries, to reach back up and pinch her throbbing nipples. Just at the apex of an orgasm, his sudden touch swept her over the side, and she rode the waves while still angling him in and out of herself. He clearly felt the tidal clenching along his shaft, the sound of her stiflted moans as she came down from that headrush, and the exquisite silken feel of her warm flesh... a younger, less experienced man wouldn't have lasted nearly so long. He had to truly fight his more than willing body to refrain from ending the evening early, and met her at the end f her orgasm with a tender kiss to her lips.
She sighed against him, limber and loose as she nestled atop him and buried her  face in the crook of his neck. The fine hairs at his nape stood on end as her soft breath tickled the sensitive skin below his ear, and his still hard erection pulsed willfullly, still inside her. She giggled, and he couldn't resist any longer. Curling his arms about her, he rolled her to one side, and completed the transition by pressing her back into the bedding.
A long moment passed, crouched on his elbows above her, where he simply drank her in. Cradled in his arms, she stretched like a cat below him, arching her body against his, with her dark hair all in a curly riot about her face, his fingers buried in those silken strands. She lifted her delicate chin, turning her head a bit and opened those fascinating dark blue eyes through dusky lashes. Plump rubied lips smiled sleepily up at him, and he felt his heart lurch, as his loins stirred more insistantly. This little witch was casting a spell on him, he knew that much. And he was loathe to put a stop to it. He watched her tantilizing mouth open, her gaz  e on his face, and his heart stuttered. Then she lifted those lips to trail them along his jaw, before whispering against his ear... the words and their husky tone sending a shiver of delight right up his spine.
'Fuck me, Horatio....'
'Certainly, Miss...'
A deft cock of his hips brought the thick head of him to her nether lips, and he pushed gently, only to withdraw again... teasing her with very little until she'd been reduced to the state of writhing, pleading wantonness underneath him. Little choking gasps like sobs came from her throat, and he decided to oblige her requests, finally, and plunged into her in one swift, slick thrust. Her lithe body arched up from under him, her fingers clinging to his shoulders, and she wound her legs about him as he withdrew and sank into her again, hard enough to expell her breath in a surprised little cry. She moaned as he drew away again, whispering a slurred comment of encouragment, and her cry was more enthusiastic as he thrust back into her a little harder.
'Oh yes... harder... more!'
She panted, begging him... and it was simply too much. This beautiful creature was entwined about him, pleading for the pleasure he could bring her, and to deny it was just beyond him for the time being. He grunted, gritting his teeth, and braced his arms on either side of her head while he quickened his pace, moving in and out of her in a series of fast thrusts, picking up speed as he went. She slid her hands down to clutch his forearms from his shoulders, and those blue eyes opened to match his gaze down upon her. A low sound, animalistic like a growl, eminated from his throat as he looked down on her beauty, pinioned between his arms and his cock. His hips pistoned furiously against her, knocking her phsysically further up the bed so that her shoulders soon hit his braced arms, and he made the final thrust a hard ram up into her, forcing the explosion of his seed deep within her. She came again with another quavering cry, her body milking his shaft as it spent its load.
For a moment he held himself upright with quavering arms, panting as she did below him, then collapsed atop her. She laughed softly and curled her arms around him tenderly, pressing his sweat-laced brow to her lips. After a few minutes of regaining their breath, she asked him softly, stroking her fingers along his damp temple,
'How does your side feel?'
'I have a side?'
She giggled softly, and he pulled back to look in her eyes.
'It doesn't hurt at all. Thank you.'
A slightly derisive snort, and she shook her head at him, her fingers tracing lightly along his jaw.
'Don't thank me. It was my fault you got shot in the first place.'
'No, not for that. For this... for you. You're... amazing, Revelle.'
'Now don't start that. I let you take it easy. We'll see how thankful you're feeling after I really get going!'
She grinned wickedly up at him, then nipped this smooth, strong shoulder. The expression in his pale eyes flickered, hovering between something like gratitude and regret, until she kissed him deeply and w  iped it away.
'What do you say to a shower, Lt.?' She asked with a mischevious smile.
'I say you're going to be the death of this old man.' He responded, half-joking. He honestly didn't think he'd be able to perform again anytime soon, despite her charms.

Turned out he was wrong. They made love again in the shower, and once more in his bed before they fell asleep, sated and exhausted, and slept for five hours before waking to join again in the warm sheets in early morning, then slept again. His cell phone rang abruptly, jolting her awake to find he'd been watching her sleep. He leaned over her to pluck up the phone from the opposite side of the bed, and she slid a warm hand between his legs. He chuckled softly, then kissed her before opening the phone.
'Not now, sweetheart. Lt. Caine.' His voice went from sleepy gravel to brisk business in an instant, like a switch had been flipped on in between speaking to her to answering his phone. His expressive face firmed as she watched, the fine lines of worry and ç care that she'd manged to work out of him creeping back, and he looked suddenly very tired... and not in the way that she'd wanted him to. He made a few assentive sounds to whomever he was listening to, then said,
'Hmm, interesting. Yes, that is hers. Bring her belongings back here. Yes. Mm-hmm. Ok. Thank you.'
And closed the phone with a snap. He sat looking at it in his hand, dropped in his lap, while she cast a gaze of concern upon him. She didn't speak, instead slid her hand into his and stole the phone away with her other to place it back on the nightstand. Her fingers curled gently into his palm, and he looked up to find her filled with a silent question. She, in turn, saw that previous mask of stress and responsibility creeping back up upon him.
'Calleigh found your... wand. She'll be bringing your things by later.'
He spoke, but didn't elaborate. She raised her eyebrows in response, goading him silently into continuing with a gentle squeeze of his hand.
'And the man who hot me was found dead in that alley this morning. No marks, no cause of death - he simply stopped living. Interesting, don't you think?'
His intent blue eyes flicked up to her frozen features, noting the expression on her face as his brows knitted with worry. Alarm spread through his voice, urgency rushing his words.
'You didn't have anything to do with that, did you Revelle? You can trust me...'
She was shaking her head, suddenly adamant as she scrabbled for his hand and held it tightly.
'No, no Horatio... please don't think that it was me! I couldn't...' She halted abruptly, her mouth closing on that word before it was finished, but she gave her head a shake and continued, 'But I know what kills like that... with no marks or anything. 'Avada Kedavra' - yes, I know it sounds fake, but it's a terrible spell. One of the three unforgivables, lethal and untraceable... but... I don't understand. No one knew I was even here, although I could be located if someone really wanted to.'