DISCLAIMER: "CSI: Miami," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, Touchstone Television, The American Travelers, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Miami," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written, rather belatedly for ralst's "Seasons and Colors" Midweek 72 Hour Challenge. It was supposed to be something entirely different when it started. Isn't that always the case? And it morphed into this. Again, isn't that always the case? shatterpath tormented me about all the sappiness and clichés. I had to remind her that the clichés were supposed to be happening. The only difference is that initially the journal entry was at the beginning of the piece, but made more sense later on.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Childhood Clichés
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter

With a sigh, I set down the pen and grab for my phone. It never fails that I get distracted while I'm trying to work through something important. "Boa Vista."

"Hey you." The sound of my lover's voice brings a smile to my lips. "Come on down and help me bring in the groceries. I got a lot of fresh and frozen stuff, and it's hotter than hell out here."

"Give me a minute to slip on my shoes," I reply, snapping my cell phone shut. Shoes on, I open the door and stop dead in my tracks as the heat and humidity hit like a slap to the face. Forcing out a breath, I head down to help Calleigh bring the groceries in from her truck.

We quickly put everything away with an efficiency that I certainly never had with Nick. The companionable silence doesn't disturb me either; I'm still trying to get used to that. We've come to have a very synergistic relationship in a relatively short period of time. When she's not pressured by the demands of her job, Calleigh becomes a very different person. She's certainly more physical when we're alone at home, and I find myself craving even the slightest touch when we're at work. At some point, without my conscious knowledge, I find myself watching Calleigh as she throws together the ingredients of our early dinner. She has this fluidity of motion that intrigues me, and I'm lost in the sun-kissed hints of white gold in her hair.

"Natalia?"

"Hmm?" I reply just as softly as she's asked.

"What's got you so introspective today?" There's a note of curiosity in her voice that doesn't surprise me, but the hint of worry alerts me to the fact that I've been far too caught up in my own thoughts, perhaps for my own good. "Is something going on I need to know about?"

Shaking my head, I reach out and pull her closer into an all-encompassing hug. "It's nothing, Calleigh." I make sure my voice is as reassuring as possible. "I've been doing some journaling again."

We're still far too new in our relationship to be complacent about potential sensitivities. We'd been together barely a month when I finally broke down and told her about Nick's abuse. And then he started showing up at crime scenes I was working. It was disheartening and disturbing, particularly because I didn't want him finding out about Calleigh and me. When Nick turned up dead, I honestly thought my entire world was going to fall out from under me. But Calleigh was there to help me pick up the pieces again. I am committed to being honest with her, at all costs.

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head and smile. "No, but you can read it when I know it's been processed enough to be set aside."

Calleigh's bright smile warms my heart, and I lean in for a kiss. Suddenly I'm no longer in the mood for food when she insinuates her tongue between my lips. She rubs against me coquettishly, a sure sign that she's feeling the same way I am. "I'm all icky and sweaty after going outside. Care to join me for a shower?"

She begins to unbutton her shirt as she wanders toward the bathroom. I follow willingly behind her like a horse led to water; I couldn't stop if I wanted to, and I don't want to. Trust me. We leave a trail of clothing behind us that will be picked up later, when we're less distracted. As I turn on the water, my eyes follow the easy curves of Calleigh's spine, mesmerized by the muscles moving beneath that peach-toned skin as she loosens and combs out her hair. She steps past me, barely brushing against my skin, and into the shower with a beckoning finger.

If I had any pretenses of us actually showering, they're quickly gone as I step under the spray. Calleigh corners me against the back wall, lips latching onto one of my nipples with a ferocity that sends an arrow of arousal straight to my clit. "Oh god, Calleigh," I moan, holding her head closer.

She nibbles at each swollen tip, switching when one gets too sensitive. Her fingers map the terrain of my sides and thighs before slipping deeply into my pussy. I moan again, hips bucking against her hand. I've never had a lover that has turned me on as easily and quickly as Calleigh can. Maybe that's just new relationship fever, even though we've been together for over seven months.

Calleigh's tongue in my navel jolts me back from my thoughts to stare down at her. Her green eyes, darkened by her desire, flash impishly at me as she pushes my right foot up onto the side of the tub. Belatedly I realize what she's about to do, but all I can do is whimper and try to grip the slippery tile wall behind me for support. I close my eyes and try to remember to breathe as her tongue snakes its way down to my clit, flicking against the sensitive flesh in counterpoint to the thrusting of her fingers. It doesn't take long for that talented double action to bring me to the brink of orgasm, and I fall headlong into ecstasy, knowing Calleigh will be there to catch me and keep me safe.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Natalia?" Calleigh asks as we lay intertwined in bed some hours later. "You still seem awfully quiet."

I lightly trace random patterns on her stomach and press a light kiss over her sternum. "Yes, I'm fine, Calleigh," I reply reassuringly and raise up on one elbow to meet her gaze. "You want to know what I was writing about today, don't you?" When she nods, I smile knowingly. "I'll be right back," I add, getting out of bed. I admit that the blessedly cool air is giving me serious goosebumps, but I don't bother with clothes. Pausing long enough to grab the leather-bound journal she gave me after she first learned about my journaling, I head back into the bedroom and hand her the book.

"Are you sure?" Calleigh asks, fingering the edges of the book. "You said you weren't finished yet."

"Yeah, I'm sure." My voice is stronger than it's been all day. I know I still have more to process on this particular subject, but right now, I'm okay with what has been written. "If there's any more to add, you can read it when it's finalized, as well. This is something I want to share with you."

She smiles and settles herself more comfortably as she begins to read.

It sounds so clichéd.

"Colors are brighter, more vivid since I met you."

It's like I'm living in one of those stupid romance novels Cristina used to devour when we were younger. She always went on and on about the handsome stranger who saved the damsel from her painful, dreary life, made her world so much brighter and happier. I used to tease her mercilessly about that fantasy of hers, even as a tiny part of my own self craved being rescued like that. Would I admit the fantasy to her? Even now? Not a chance. In fact, I forced myself to let go of that fantasy because it was an impossibility.

Nick certainly didn't make me believe it. Especially once he started getting abusive.

Yes, there was a time when Nick was wonderful. I mean, I fell in love with the man and married him, after all. And yes, marrying him got me out from under Papi's iron-fisted rule. But it wasn't as perfect as I'd expected, hoped it would be. No, I wasn't naïve enough to think life would be all sunshine and puppies when we got together, either dating or married. But I suppose there was still that tiny little piece of me I'd thought long forgotten that wanted it to happen.

And when Nick turned abusive, it made life more than unbearable. It made me into something I don't like. I was withdrawn, reticent to reach out to anyone else for help, not even my family. It wasn't something we did in the Boa Vista family. I had to be strong, be a good wife. It was expected of me.

Until the night he went too far.

I regret losing the man I fell in love with. I don't regret losing the bastard who beat and harassed me.

When the Feds offered me the chance to work cold case files for the Miami-Dade CSI lab, I jumped at the opportunity, the experience of it. I admit I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of having to spy on them, but where else was I going to get the money and "freedom" to redesign a crime lab pretty much on my own? It was a golden opportunity, and would definitely look good on my CV.

I genuinely like doing my job. I genuinely like my coworkers. I hated having to lie to them about why I was there and what I was really doing. Eric was a safety mechanism, pure and simple. The pregnancy scare should have been reason enough for me to figure that out. I wanted to belong, I wanted to not be alone. And Eric had these qualities that reminded me of Nick; I can see that now. But he just wasn't right; nor was Ryan, but that was simply fun and a way to make Eric jealous.

It wasn't until Calleigh chose to break the wall of silence everyone had erected against me at work, during that dark day when my less-than-optimal status with the Feds was discovered, that I realized there was something different about her. That I realized the old clichéd fantasy of my sister's was actually beginning to happen for me. Life seemed brighter, more intense, more real for me: sights, sounds, tastes, sensations. Everything was just…more when Calleigh was around.

Not that I'll ever tell my sister she was right; I'd never live it down.

But I think I can finally say that my life is starting to have its fairytale moments of sunshine and puppies that I'd denied myself for so long. And now, I can start living my life instead of just surviving it.

I must admit I'm a bit nervous as I wait for Calleigh to finish reading what I've written. I know it's nowhere near finalized yet; I've a lot more processing to do, but I know I can do it with her help.

"I make your world brighter, do I?" she teases lightly, setting the book aside. When she returns her gaze to mine, I can see the tears glistening in her eyes, and I pull her into a tender kiss.

"Every single minute since you pulled me out of the lab on D-day," I reply honestly. "I love you, Calleigh."

"I love you, too, Natalia."

The End

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