A Touch Of Honey

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, lyrics by Dido.

Rating: PG

Spoiler: Dead Zone

Pairing: S/C, (slight) J/C

Summary: Ignore all the warning signs.

A/N: Got the new Dido CD a few hours ago, and if its possible have memorized all the lyrics already, I'm such a fanatic and got inspired.

Dedication: Jacqueline feel better. Tina go easy on 'your outlet'. Tessa keep writing.


Two weeks away it feels like

The world should've changed

Sometimes they'd have dinner. Usually something simple, but add an excellent bottle of wine, or at times beer, some good conversation and a late movie, and you had yourself a made night.

Of course there was the little voice that screamed at the back of his head.

" It's not going to last."  But he didn't listen because up until two weeks before she never gave him a reason to doubt her.

There were times when the voice got a lot louder, he had to admit that, but he'd spent years perfecting the technique of denial and when it came to this relationship, he could just as easily ignore all the warning signs, just so he could be remotely close to that one person.

But I'm home now
and things still look the same

Now he knew that'd been a mistake.

It was a mistake to ignore and pretend, an art he'd mastered, but one that backfired. For he realized some people were better off alone, and maybe he wasn't destined to find a love that would last.

He remembered that sometimes when those movies got to be too much, or ran too late, she'd lift herself off the couch and crawl into his arms, he'd drape a blanket over her, and together they'd still be in the same position when the sun met Miami.

He'd get up without disturbing her, and walk into the kitchen, refill the coffee filter, and wait for a full cup to brew, he'd take a coaster next, making sure not to leave water rings on her clear table.

Try to forget for one more night
that I'm back in my flat on the road

For as long as he could remember, he'd always forget to add a touch of honey to her coffee, instead of sugar, but when she arose, and greeted him with one of her lazy, drunk smiles, and a flip of her sun struck hair, he would suddenly forget about mixing up her drink, and crawl back into the makeshift bed with her.

But those were not his favorite nights.

His favorite nights were those when they were late for work. He lived for the confused smiles from his coworkers, mingling among the jealous stares and the somewhat suspicious glances he received from Horatio, although he pretty much knew what had been going on between them.

Everyone knew.

And yet they didn't.

Tomorrow's back to work down to sanitation
should've run back before I left here

No one ever knew why they were late. It wasn't sex. It wasn't sleep, or the late night movies that scared the living hell out of them.

Like the time they rented The Ring DVD and she couldn't sleep for half the night, fearing that something would come out of the television, he cuddled with her, promised her nothing would get to her, and fell asleep with a smile on his face, wondering what wonderful blackmail material this was.

Jokingly of course.

Bullet Girl scared of a PG-13 movie.

But he never even considered any harm to her. Especially on the mornings they spent together, the ones when they were late.

To real life where I can't watch sunset
I don't have time

They'd wake up before dawn, usually at her apartment, it was right on the boardwalk.

Beachfront property, he always joked, as they tied their sneakers side by side, and grabbed their badges out of habit.

She'd always lock the door, and then they'd race downstairs, six floors, and he'd always beat her, and she'd always promise him that next time it would be different.

I've still got sand in my shoes
and I can't shake the thought of you

And he'd never believe her, but pretend that he took her seriously, as they took off running down to the beach, jogging along the marina as seagulls flocked to the boat docks and fellow joggers nodded their hellos at them.

And then the sun would rise, and they'd collapse in sweating heaps, again side by side, on the sandy beach, panting like crazy, and enjoying every minute of it.

And she'd snuggle up to him, despite her phobia of bad hygiene, and they'd watch the sun, losing all sense of time and space.

Hell for him, when he was around her, he always lost all comprehension of anything around him.

I shake it all; forget you
why, why would I want to

And there was only her, beautiful, unnerving her.

And now…now he was here.

Alone, unabashed, and desolate.

Why? Because he didn't believe himself, when he said, " It's never going to last."

Now as he made his way toward the ballistics lab, and looked inside to find her smiling at John as the poor fool handed her an ice pack, Speed smirked.

And when John passed him in the hall and murmured him a hello.

Tim wanted to say,

" It's never gonna last."

But something told him, despite all the warning signs John wouldn't listen to him, because lets face it.

Knowing all that he knew now, Tim could say without hesitation that he wouldn't listen too…

I know we said goodbye
anything else would've been confused

But I want to see you again…