Author's Note: Did you ever have a day when a random idea/story pops into your head and you've just got to write it? Yup. I'm still working on my other one, I promise, but I need to get this out of the way first before I go insaneeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. …eee.

Also, the italicized text is a flashback.

Nice To See You Again

September 19, 2005. After a much needed four-month break, Lieutenant Horatio Caine's team would be back to work at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab in just a matter of hours. Neither him nor his three CSIs—Eric Delko, Calleigh Duquesne, and Ryan Wolfe—were expected to be at the lab any earlier, but rarely was Horatio Caine not at the lab. It was his home, his job, his life.

There were several things Horatio had planned to do today before he had to meet with his team, but he put those off the minute he learned the lab was getting a new employee: a DNA specialist hired to work on cold cases. Every once in a while, the lab would get a new employee and Horatio would eventually make his way over to introduce himself, but this employee was different. He knew this one. Not very well, but he knew her. And he wanted to see her the minute she arrived.

The lieutenant stood outside the MDPD building with his hands on his hips as his eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, watched the new employee exit her vehicle, lock it up, and start toward the building. It had been a little less than two years since he last saw her and while she hadn't changed at all… she had.

It was nearing one o'clock in the morning and Horatio Caine was the last of his team to leave the lab for the night. He had just grabbed his things from the locker room and was nearing the exit when several police officers came jogging past him and out the doors. Intrigued, Horatio hustled outside to see what was happening.

"Officer Jorgensen?" At this, one of the three officers turned around as the other two continued to their cars. Officer Jorgensen was a large man who, while his appearance was very intimidating, was very friendly. "What's going on?" Horatio continued once he realized he had gained the majority of the officer's attention.

The officer continued at a quick pace towards his car as he responded to the lieutenant. "9-1-1 call from the Coral Gables area. It was short and eventually disconnected from the caller's end, but it sounds like we've got a woman being attacked."

Anger flared up inside Horatio as he listened to Officer Jorgensen fill him in on the 9-1-1 call. "Mind if I tag along?" He wasn't part of the night shift, but he felt compelled to involve himself in this.

"Sure."

It was a short drive—no more than five minutes—to their destination. By the time Horatio pulled up with Officer Jorgensen, the other two officers were already breaking down the door of what appeared to be a very calm, quiet house. If a call hadn't been placed to MDPD from this address, Horatio never would have suspected foul play here. However, looks can be deceiving. He reminded himself that as he stepped out of the police car and hustled up to the front of the house, pulling his gun out of the holster as he went.

Alert and gun drawn, Horatio followed Officer Jorgensen into the house and was taken aback at the sight, at the state, of the living room they were standing in. It appeared almost everything had been knocked out of place and there was debris all over the floor. There was also a fair amount of blood on the floor and the furniture, and even some on the walls.

Before either man could say anything, a loud cry was heard from another room in the house, followed by a lot of yelling. Horatio and Officer Jorgensen raced up the stairs and down to the last room at the end of the hallway where all the commotion was coming from.

Now that Horatio was closer, he could clearly hear what the cops were shouting: "Get down on the ground!" "Hands on your head!" "Now!"

Horatio entered the bedroom, his gun still drawn, to find all three officers crowded around whom Horatio assumed was the attacker. The man had complied with the officers' orders and was now kneeling on the ground, his hands—Horatio noticed both were extremely red around the knuckles—on his head, as the officers patted him down. With three officers on the guy, he was the least of Horatio's problems. Right now, the lieutenant was much more focused on the victim…

It didn't take very long to find the woman who had made the call. She was curled up on her side in the corner of the room, wearing nothing but underwear and a bra, both soaked in her blood. She was shaking, sobbing… It killed Horatio to see this.

As he made his way over to the woman, Horatio secured his gun and then knelt down in front of her, carefully surveying the damage the man had caused.

She was covered in bruises, old and new. The older ones were both black and blue and beginning to fade, while the newer ones were large black knots bleeding pale green into her stomach and her back. She was covered in a significant amount of blood, the majority of it fresh while the rest was dried a very dark red color, caked in her hair and stained on her back and stomach. She was also favoring her right arm which was also bruised, as well as swollen and very deformed… definitely broken.

"Ma'am?" Horatio asked softly as he tilted his head to the side in order to get a better look at the woman, whose face was half buried into the carpet. Her body continued to shake and she continued to whimper, not hearing the lieutenant at all. "Ma'am?" he tried again. "Ma'am, my name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine. I work with Miami-Dade PD and you are safe. Everything's okay now, he's not going to hurt you. You're safe."

He repeated these words to the woman in a very calm, soothing voice, reassuring her that she was safe. After several minutes, her sobbing grew quieter and her body trembled only slightly. All Horatio could hear in the background was chaos: "Nick Townsend, you're under arrest for…" "This is Officer Jorgensen, we need an ambulance at 128 East Crescent…" "Connect me to the Miami-Dade Domestic Violence Division right away…" But despite it all, Horatio still managed to keep the victim calm.

"Ma'am, I need you to look at me. Could you do that for me, please?"

Very slowly, the woman turned her neck so she could clearly see the lieutenant. The look of fear in her eyes was overwhelming and her face didn't look all that much better than the rest of her, but Horatio still smiled, as a way to keep her calm. "Hi, there," he said, as if nothing had happened at all, as if he wasn't talking to a battered woman who was helplessly lying on the floor in her home, as if they were just passing each other in the park. "What's your name?" The woman kept quiet. "Ma'am… your name?"

The woman hesitated for a moment or two before finally parting her lips just enough to speak. "N-n… Natalia." Then abruptly she closed them as well as her eyes, tightly, and whimpered some more.

"Natalia, I need you to keep your eyes open," Horatio said to the woman. He wasn't a medical examiner so he didn't know the extent of the damage, didn't know what the internal damage was, but he did know she needed to stay awake. "Natalia, open your eyes please."

Natalia's eyes fluttered open, then fell shut again. The poor woman was drained of all energy and something as simple as keeping her eyelids open was too much for her to handle. Horatio needed to think of another way to keep her awake…

"Natalia, how about we sit you up, huh?" His question was answered by a sob. "No, Natalia… Ssssshhhhhh. You're safe. The paramedics will be here any minute, they'll take you to the hospital, and everything will be okay. I promise." He nodded towards the woman who was struggling to keep her eyes open. "Now, come on… Let's get you sitting up."

Horatio slowly reached toward Natalia but didn't put his hands on her. Instead his hands hovered in the air as he waited for some type of consent from the woman. She eventually and reluctantly nodded, then used whatever strength she could muster to slowly pick herself up with her good arm, which was only enough to put a good one or two inches between her body and the floor. She whimpered as she moved and Horatio quickly but gently wrapped his arms around her small, trembling frame… one hand around her middle and the other just under her armpit… and carefully pulled her into an upright position, ignoring the sharp intake of breath and the whimper that came from Natalia.

"That's better," Horatio said, smiling at Natalia, who was putting up one hell of a fight to stay awake.

Then the EMTs filed into the room with their emergency equipment as well as a stretcher, and Horatio had no choice but to back away from Natalia and watch helplessly as she was assessed by the workers and then eventually put on the stretcher and taken out of the room.

He hoped to God she'd be okay.

Horatio pulled off his sunglasses as the new employee stepped up onto the sidewalk and came towards him. He smiled at her and nodded his head as she approached him. "Miss Boa Vista," he said. "It's nice to see you again."

He was answered with a puzzled look. Natalia raised an eyebrow as she studied him, as if trying to remember him.

She didn't remember him.

"I'm sorry," she started, "but… I'm not quite sure who you are."

She didn't remember him. He wondered if she remembered that night. He was aware that when someone undergoes something as traumatizing as what Natalia had gone through, they could have no recollection of it… was that the case with Natalia?

Horatio smiled. "Horatio Caine," he introduced himself. "I'm in charge of the crime lab." He offered her his hand, which she accepted, shaking it with a firm grip. "Welcome aboard."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Natalia responded, smiling back.

Silence fell over the two for a moment before Horatio spoke: "I'm keeping you, Miss Boa Vista," he stated. "Why don't you head inside and get started? I'm sure you'd like to see the newly renovated lab you planned, too."

Natalia nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you later, Lieutenant."

"I'll see you later."

She hadn't changed at all since he last saw her. Minus the bruises and blood, her appearance looked the same: the long brown hair; the smooth, tanned skin; and the round, deep brown eyes.

But she had changed. Her eyes held no fear in them. She wasn't fatigued. And as she walked away with her chin held high, he noticed the air of strength and confidence that surrounded her.

She was okay.

'Nother Author's Note: Whoa. ...I wasn't expecting it to be that sad until I finished writing. o.O (And I just realized I've been spelling "whoa" wrong, too. …I've always spelled it: "woah." …And then Microsoft Word underlined it in red. Whoops.)