34.

For several long minutes, Horatio discreetly explained to her how Charles and Constance Lange had engineered a sophisticated West Coast art forgery operation, utilizing several of their property holdings to store artwork in transit to other museums. Once in their warehouses, originals were copied, swapped and sold to the highest of private collection bidders. The operation had raked in millions of dollars. When Charles had been struck down by a brain aneurism, Constance continued running the scam, and with Charles incapacitated, she found herself a dangerous young lover.

Operations were running smoothly until Schell had discovered the forgery that was being offered to the Seattle Art Museum. That had gotten the attention of Paul Hirsch, who then recruited her to help him identify which paintings were original and which were fakes. Enter Randall Thorpe. Already hurting monetarily from a nasty divorce, he made the mistake of voicing his concerns at a society gathering in which Constance was attending. She overheard him and suggested finding an artist to commission a few paintings from, then 'arranging' for the tragic demise of the artist and thus increasing the value of the artist's work.

Constance, wily and manipulative, then learned of Paul Hirsch's investigation and she let drop subtle hints to Thorpe that, if he could also 'remove' the Seattle detective, it would prove to be very financially lucrative to him.

Thorpe jumped at the idea... and failed.

Seeing the results of Thorpe's attempts fall by the wayside, Connie turned to her boy toy... and began offering him large sums to get rid of Paul Hirsch and Schell, and any undesirables that might get in the way. Owen Parnell took the bait and set about doing what he had been trained to do.

With Randall Thorpe's arrest, and a hefty threat against his own life if he spoke to anyone about her connection to the entire ruse, Constance Lange did the unexpected. She backed off on any, and all, attempts on Schell's life... and waited.

Knowing that Schell was soon to be moving to Florida, Constance Lange nursed her bitterness and hatred at having her financial lifeline cut. So she carefully worked to insure that she knew just where her victim would be, immediately offering the gallery commission to her and told Owen to get ready.

"And the rest you know..." Horatio murmured studying Schell's face as she tried to absorb the entire story. "As a result, we are investigating any untimely deaths of artists connected to Lange Galleries and any of CCL Management's holdings. We've also alerted several West Coast organizations to take a look at any deaths of artists in their areas to see if there isn't the possibility that the Lange's were involved in some way."

"You know..." she said, after a long silent pause. "If I wasn't hurting so bad, I'd be plenty pissed off right now."

Horatio smirked slightly, still idly running some of her hair through his fingertips. "I would be seriously worried if you weren't."

Schell glanced away from him, smiling slightly and sighing. "It's a little much to take in all at once, isn't it?" she asked.

"Mm hmm," he murmured softly, "And that's understandable." He paused a moment, then twisted slightly away from her, reaching up to stifle a threatening yawn. He smiled ruefully at himself and looked over at her. "I think I had better go to bed."

Schell looked at him a moment, "You already are in bed, Lieutenant," she pointed out.

Staring at her for a moment, he saw her brow rise slightly in challenge, her lips curling in a pixieish grin.

"What are you implying?" he asked, an amused smile twitching at his lips.

"You're here, you're comfortable, and you're warm, so why move?" she asked.

He glanced away with a soft snort of amusement, and raised his brows in acknowledgment. "Can't argue too much with that logic..." he murmured, then twisted back to face her. He propped his head up with his fist, his other hand slipping around her waist, and studied her. He could see that she was thinking about something. Schell had dropped her gaze to the vee of his pajama top, idly fingering the cool silk with her good hand.

"What are you thinking?" he murmured, and could see from the brief flash in her eyes that she was thinking one thing and saying another.

"What's going to happen now that this case seems to be finished?" She asked, slowly lifting her gaze to meet his. "You've wrapped it up and kept your promise..."

"Mm..." he mused, beginning to rub her back.

"There's no reason for you to watch out for me anymore..." she said quietly.

He gazed at her a moment, then leaned forward, gently kissing the top of her forehead. "Nonsense..." he whispered. "Wanting to be with you is reason enough..."

"You want?" Schell asked softly, looking at him. "With me?"

"You sound surprised," he said with a soft smile.

"Well," she said, and he could 'see' her blushing in the dim light, "I guess I am, in a way..."

"You shouldn't be..." he said, trailing his hand up her back before gently threading his fingers into her hair. "We've time enough to spare now, " he said softly, smiling at her and studying her eyes. "And if I wasn't so tired at the moment..." he purred with a hint of amused regret.

Schell glanced down, 'blushing' again. "I'm not exactly capable of much..." she added.

"There's that, too..." he said, before cupping her head, then leaning forward again, catching her lip between his.

That kiss was brief, but the hint of passion behind it was exquisitely powerful and seductive. When he broke off, Schell's eyes were closed, a lazy soft smile tugging the corners of her lips followed by a gentle sigh.

Horatio smiled tenderly at her, "Roll over..." he murmured and without a word, except a wince or two at her aches and pains, he helped her before wrapping himself around her, their bodies spooned together comfortably. With a deep sigh, he laid his head against hers, closing his eyes, threading his fingers together with hers.

"You make me feel safe..." Schell murmured drowsily, causing him to smile.

"Always good to hear," he whispered, hinting at a deep inner happiness, in her ear. Schell sighed and smiled, drifting off to sleep.

There was no further need for words. Comfortable, secure and curled up together, both quickly succumbed to the warm beckoning sleep. In moments the apartment seemed to develop a sense of contented silence, as the two slept at last.

Far off over the Atlantic, lightning flickered and flashed briefly in the passing thick clouds followed by the distant sound of rumbling thunder...

POSTSCRIPT

Well, this fic certainly went places I never dreamed it would go...

I want to say, again, for the umpteenth time, how very grateful I am for all the reviews, thanks you's and encouragement from all the readers. I have written in other fandoms before, but these two CSI: Miami fics have literally outstripped all my other fics combined in terms of responses from you, the readers. Thank you just doesn't seem to cover it all!

I especially want to thank two beta readers who willingly jumped in to beta this fic, right in the middle of it when the need came up for beta's. Thank you Ba and Sian, you two know who you are. I can't give you enough praise and thanks for stepping in at a very awkward spot and helping me keep this fic on track! Gabby, big thanks to you too, dear for your no holds barred comments!

And mostly, again, Chris, you're the best! You keep the Wenches sharp, you always listen and for over four years now you are just always there, what more can a friend ask of their buddy eh? Thanks babe!

BTW, there's a review button posted on here, let me hear from you all!