Title: Chasing Phoenix.

Pairing: Horatio/OFC

Rating: T

Spoilers: A couple of spoilers from Season 5 episode 1 (Rio) + spoilers from previous seasons here and there.

Summary: A chance meeting at a café changes Horatio's world, and makes his latest investigation personal.(I suck at summaries-sorry)

Standard pre-fanfic spiel: CSI: Miami and all related characters remain the property of CBS, I am making no money from this fanfic etc…

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Horatio lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip of the steaming hot coffee within. He replaced the cup on the table and leaned back in his seat, stretching his long legs out under that table in front of him. These few hours first thing in the morning were the only time of day that he could comfortably sit out in the sun and he planned to enjoy it for as long as possible, but even this early in the morning he could feel the rays starting to make his skin tingle. Of course he always wore sunscreen anyway, he was a long-time Miami resident and used to the precautions needed to deal with the climate, whether it was having shutters ready for the hurricane season or carrying a bottle of sunscreen in the car. Everyone wore sunscreen here, but with his fair complexion even with the highest spf factor he could find liberally applied he rarely spent more time than was absolutely necessary out in the full glare of the sun, fearful that spending any extra time outside would leave him with the complexion of a lobster for days afterwards. The early mornings were different though, for an hour or so, he could allow himself to relax out in the open before the fiery orb began to blast the earth with its full force.

Horatio loved this café. Set on the waterfront; 'Sensación' carefully arranged its seats on the outdoor paved area, which on one side looked out over the turquoise waters of the bay, and to another side overlooked a busy pedestrian-only area of the city. Most of the cafés and restaurants in the area had an outdoor seating area; this was Miami after all, who wanted to sit inside, hiding from the sun? But from this particular vantage point he enjoyed the fact that he could sit and watch as the world went about its business. A consummate people-watcher; Horatio enjoyed observing people as they shopped, worked, holidayed and just generally lived their lives. Not to mention that this place made the best pancakes in the whole of Miami. This was often his first stop on his rare days off, a cup of coffee, a plate of pancakes and the morning paper, there was no better way to leave all the horrors of work behind him for the day. The serving staff had gotten used to seeing him appear early in the morning every now and again, and always greeted him like an old friend. At first it had been a bit of a joke between the staff when he'd started turning up, always the same table, the one that gave the best view of both the sea vista and the shopping area below, always the same order, black coffee and pancakes. There were a few humorous remarks made back in the kitchen, a few nicknames used to identify him, but the staff instantly gained a high level of respect for the quiet stranger when he had placed himself between one of their own and the business end of a handgun.

It was true that Sandy had never made the best choices when it came to men. She was one of those women who had always been drawn to the bad-boy vibe, if he had cute eyes and a sense of danger Sandy's knees would go weak. Unfortunately her latest flame, Pete, hadn't been so much a little dangerous as clinically insane, and from the events that followed their break-up; he apparently wasn't too keen on rejection either. He'd turned up at the café the day after she'd finished with him; brandishing a handgun, threatening to put a bullet through her head. For Sandy, the minutes following the threat had moved in extreme slow-motion, events that must've taken only seconds to transpire took hours in her head, her attention focused on the muzzle pointing in her direction. She knew he was yelling at her, she could see his mouth moving, see every tiny droplet of spittle as it flew from his lips, but she couldn't make out the words, it was as if she had cotton wool in her ears, muffling the sound until it became an incomprehensible blur. Then, she saw a figure move to her left and the red-haired customer deftly moved in front of her, his own gun raised pointing directly at her would-be assailant. Standing so close to her rescuer she could feel the vibrations that came from the deep rumble of his voice. After that, she saw the scene as snapshots, as if someone had turned on a strobe-light in her head. Uncertainty in the eyes of her attacker, uncertainty that rapidly progressed to fear as her white knight issued a warning. She saw Pete's hold loosen on the grip of the weapon, and eventually saw the handgun pivot around, his finger still in the trigger-guard. Her rescuer gently extended his hand to take the relinquished gun, laying it down on a nearby table before turning his attention back to the man in front of him, cuffing his hands behind his back. Sandy was speechless, the thumping of her heart echoing in her mind. She wanted to throw her arms around this man, to thank him for saving her life, but her feet were rooted firmly to the ground, her mouth flapping silently open and closed. When he turned to look at her he simply smiled and inclined his head, understanding her wishes perfectly, as if he had read her mind.

From that day on Lieutenant Horatio Caine had always been a welcomed guest at the Sensación Café. They would always find a seat for him, no matter how busy they were.

"Um, excuse me, Sir?"

The request was made in a soft and apologetic tone that drew Horatio instantly out of his thoughts. He looked up from the newspaper pages he had been perusing and peered over the top of his sunglasses. For a second he was incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together as he found himself looking into the deepest green eyes he had ever seen, the sun glinted off the moist surface giving the illusion of two perfectly cut emeralds nestling in the whites of her eyes. Aware that he hadn't spoken for a few seconds he forced his vocal chords to comply.

"How can I help Ma'am?" Horatio raised himself out of his seat a little.

"Oh, please, don't get up. I'm sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I sat here?" The newcomer motioned towards the vacant seat at Horatio's table. "It's just that all the others are taken." She extended her arm in the general direction of the other tables and, glancing around the sun-baked patio seating area, Horatio saw that the other seats were indeed occupied.

"Sure, no problem." He smiled warmly, and was pleased when she smiled in return.

"Thanks." She slid herself into the seat.

Horatio pushed his shades up in front of his eyes again, in the pretence of continuing to read his paper, but in fact continued to observe the woman's movements as she sat opposite him. The light coloured combat pants and figure hugging white vest perfectly accentuated her athletic build, and her honey-blonde hair flowed in waves down her back, catching and reflecting the sun. He watched as she signalled to one of the waiters, and listened as she placed an order for coffee and French toast. The accent was definitely New York, but he concentrated harder to narrow it down to a borough, it tugged at his heart a little to realise that it was so long since he'd lived there that he was losing the ability to instantaneously identify the little tells and colloquialisms that made it possible to differentiate between the different city areas. A few more words as she completed her order gave him the answer, Brooklyn, although he suspected she worked somewhere in Manhattan because of the emphasis she placed on some of her words.

As the waiter retreated to relay the order back to the kitchen, Horatio gave up all pretence of reading the paper. Leaning back in his chair, he pulled off his sunglasses and folded the arms back, placing them on the table, on top of the newspaper.

"Are you visiting?"

It took a few seconds before the young woman responded as she looked around checking if he was talking to her. An action which made Horatio suppress a chuckle. When she had ascertained that there was no-one else within earshot and that the handsome red-haired stranger sitting opposite her must be addressing her she looked up and answered his question.

"Um, yes, kind of. Is it really that obvious? Do I just have 'tourist' stamped on my forehead?"

He laughed.

"No, you fit in very well, but the book's a dead giveaway." He motioned towards the book that she had pulled out of her bag as soon as the waiter had left. It was one of those tourist guides that extolled the virtues of each city, giving the visitor the inside track on the best places to eat, stay and party.

She laughed, and her face coloured a little with embarrassment. "I guess it is a pretty good hint. Actually I'm thinking of moving down here. I'm renting an apartment for a few weeks just to see what the city's like, doing a little reconnaissance I guess."

Horatio decided to see if his hunches had been right. "Would you mind if I took a guess at something?"

"Sure."

"You live in Brooklyn and work in Manhattan, right?"

"How d'you…what…how…" Her mouth opened and closed in surprise. Although she didn't get a chance to ask her question as at that moment the waiter reappeared and set her order in front of her.

"You want a refill too Lieutenant?" The waiter turned and asked Horatio before he left.

"Sure, thanks Drew." Horatio addressed the waiter by name, and within seconds his cup had been topped up with a renewed supply of steaming hot coffee.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sorry, I should have introduced myself. Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Miami Dade Crime Lab."

"But that still doesn't explain how you knew…"

"I used to live up there. To be honest I was checking to see if I still knew the accents. Sorry if I freaked you out a little."

He watched as she visibly relaxed, reassured that he wasn't a stalker.

"A real life Henry Higgins huh? In that case, it's nice to meet you Lieutenant. I'm Grace Turner." She extended her hand across the table that separated them, and Horatio mirrored her action, taking her hand in his and giving it a friendly shake.

She lifted her fork and dug into the French toast that was still sitting in front of her giving off an enticing aroma.

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A/N – Henry Higgins is the character from George Bernard Shaw's 'Pygmalion' (or 'My Fair Lady') who can tell exactly where people come from, to within a few streets, just by listening to them speak.