Hello and welcome to the re-opening of SWASWT. I really needed that break, and now that midterms are over, my schedule is far less hectic. Thanks for sticking around.
I would like to thank everyone who has added me to their subscription lists and/or have favorited my stories/me.
You guys need to vote on the poll I have posted on my profile. Right now I have an even split (of 1 to 1) regarding what should get priority in my postings. Don't think that I'm only going to be focusing on seasonal stuff and the epics, because I have been attacked by plot bunnies and I plan on giving them all equal attention. I wouldn't mind posting on my Wednesday/Saturday schedule, but as of right now, I'm going to just post on Saturdays so that deadlines don't sneak up on me.
Don't worry, you guys are going to be hit over the head with ficlets, starting Sunday. But if you just read for the epics… yeah, this will take a wee bit longer. But if I blow through SWASWT II, then I might miss a few major deadlines I set up for myself down the road.
(I love all of you)
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I do not own or claim to own CSI: Miami characters. This is fanmade and I make absolutely no profit off of this. I do this for my own amusement.
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Some With Arrows, Some With Traps
II
Chapter One: Monday
An oddly brisk Miami breeze blew through the open window in Rick Stetler's bedroom, making the sheer white curtains billow in its wake. The gust rolled through the small room, finally breaking against Rick's bare back.
The IAB sergeant's eyes slowly drifted open, blinking in his morning haze. He rolled onto his back, relaxing and listening to the birds in the tree near his window, their song unchanged since he first laid his eyes upon Miami. He moaned and sighed softly as another breeze wrapped itself around him.
"Good morning, Miami! This is John, Bo, Jim, Bryan and Todd in the morning!" the radio screamed, making Rick startle.
Rick flipped over onto his stomach, reaching across the bed and slamming his palm down on the radio alarm clock, silencing it. Rick's mood tempered off as his eyes fell upon the small photograph of his lover that he kept on his nightstand next to the clock. Some days it felt like it was the only face that smiled at him and gave him a look of kindness and understanding. It wasn't easy being in IAB, he always felt like he was the target of office conspiracies; he would think himself paranoid if he didn't already know that his fears were justified. Still, he smiled back at the photograph.
"Good morning, Horatio," he whispered to the image of the redheaded lieutenant behind the glass.
***
As soon as Rick walked into the ground floor of the Miami-Dade Police Department, he could feel dozens of eyes upon him. The room's usual chatter died down to a soft mumble as people noticed him.
Why does everyone always do that? Rick thought to himself, they're only making themselves look suspicious. Mondays are the worst, everyone wants to share their weekend with everyone but me.
He looked around nervously, at the small clusters of people around him. Nobody knew it, but Rick could tell when people were fantasizing about various sharp objects flying through the air and impaling him. He could also tell when people were imagining a gunman running into the room and firing several rounds into his head. About every conceivable way that someone could die someone has pictured happening to him and he knew it. This would stop bothering him so much if everyone didn't have a slight smile on their faces when he looked at them.
He approached the front desk, placing his briefcase at his feet. Liz half-heatedly lifted her eyes from her morning crossword. She took a bite of her bagel and scribbled in a word before she spoke to him.
"May I help you, Sergeant Stetler?" She mumbled, raising her eyebrows at him.
"Erm… yeah," Rick stuttered, "Can I have my messages from this weekend?"
And can you stop fantasizing about me spontaneously combusting?
Without a nod or a sound, Liz pulled out two files from under the counter and handed them to him.
"Thank you, Liz," he said, giving her a polite little nod.
She had already buried herself in her crossword and breakfast. She gave an affirming grunt in response. Rick walked away sadly, wishing that she would have seen the polite little nod he had given her. Years ago people used to at least give him a chance, but not anymore.
He started paging though the reports as he walked to the elevators; they were both about some minor players in the police department, small-time officers. He bit his lip; somebody could be fired for what was in the reports. And he, Rick, would be blamed for it.
"I managed to clear my father's name," a southern drawl behind him said, "no thanks to you".
"Hi, Calleigh," Rick said tiredly as he turned to face her.
"If things were up to you, my father would be in jail right now!" she snapped.
"I'm just saying," Rick explained as he boarded the elevator with her, "that it would be best for the department to be a little more prudent when it comes to family matters".
"And just what is that supposed to mean?!"
"I mean, a court may see your involvement as a conflict of interests".
"I am perfectly competent and capable of performing my duties, Rick Stetler!"
"We know that, but a jury wouldn't".
"My father will only be in a courtroom if he is defending someone".
"You mean: 'helping criminals back out onto the streets'?" Rick babbled.
Ding. Second floor: CSI.
"Oh my God! You are such a prick!" Calleigh yelled at Rick as she stormed off to ballistics.
Rick stepped off the elevator, watching Natalia run after Calleigh, a look of concern on her face. He looked around, Eric glared at him and Ryan pretended not to notice. Rick would have to admit: his brain doesn't have much of a filter before his coffee.
Coffee: the reason why he stopped at CSI instead of going all the way up to IAB. CSI had the best coffee machines he had ever encountered. He tried to draw as little attention to himself as possible as he scampered down the hall to the break room.
Ahhh… coffee: sweet giver of life, Rick thought as he approached the machine, I can think of no greater morning delight… wait… let me rephrase that: I can think of no greater morning delight that doesn't necessarily have to involve Horatio. Oh wondrous caffeine, you have given so much for me. What have I to give to you? Three quarters is all I must sacrifice, but I would give you the sky. Oh thank you for the gifts you bestow upon me in my hours of need and-
"-Jesus Christ," said a voice behind Rick.
-and why do people enjoy sneaking up behind me?
"Good morning Valera," Rick smiled as he removed his coffee from the machine, "how are you?"
"Did you have to buy another hideous tie?" she giggled.
Rick looked down at his light and dark pink paisley motif tie. The paisley motif always reminded him of his youth, when he was stuck in rural Oklahoma during the political movements of the 60's. Although in his mind he was always part of the protests and rallies. In those days he was still an idealist.
"What's wrong with it?" he murmured, turning the tie in his hands.
She took a bite of the apple she was carrying around, trying to suppress a laugh. Shaking her head she grinned and strolled out of the break room, brushing against Horatio on her way out. Rick's face lit up as he laid his eyes upon the lieutenant.
"Hey Horatio, do you think my tie is hideous? Valera seems to be positive that-"
"-is there some sort of sick pleasure you get out of harassing my lab, Stetler?"
Rick's smile quickly faded as he noticed he was in trouble. Horatio's brilliant blue eyes glared at him with an unrivaled intensity that made Rick cower slightly.
"Join me in my office," Horatio ordered, turning his heel and expecting Rick to follow him.
Judging eyes peered at him from behind the glass walls of every lab of CSI as Rick timidly followed Horatio to his office (which was also made of glass) at the end of the hall. Horatio opened the door for Rick, leading him inside.
"Sorry about that," Horatio said, softening his tone, "but I promised Calleigh that I would give you a good talking to. Now, what exactly did you say about her father?"
"Oh…that," Rick groaned, rolling his eyes and taking a long sip of coffee; still dodging the issue.
"Rick," Horatio said sternly, tapping his foot impatiently, "what did you say?"
"Something stupid and insensitive…?" Rick guessed, flashing Horatio a grin.
"You can't just say whatever you want to my team because you know that I'm not going to threaten you now," Horatio sighed.
Stetler had to admit that he had been taking a bit of advantage of his new found romance with Horatio. He had been shooting his mouth off at Calleigh and Natalia quite a bit; they have always pissed him off the most. But he had held himself back slightly because he was afraid that Eric would catch him off hours and pummel him one day.
"She… she started it," Rick quietly stuttered.
"Rick".
"She's the one who is putting the department's name on the line!" Stetler exploded, making Horatio jump slightly, "I'm trying to protect us! This would be your responsibility if you didn't already have to be part of every investigation because God forbid you possibly take a day off. But no, what would your sad and incompetent team do without you? I can't believe these people! They have absolutely no common sense!"
"Stetler!"
Rick calmed down, turning his face away from Horatio.
"I know you're frustrated," Horatio said gently, "and that people give you a lot of crap for being in IAB. It's not your fault".
"I'm sorry," Rick gasped quietly.
"It's okay. She should be over it in about a half hour".
Rick nodded. He leaned against Horatio's desk, not wanting to leave. He watched the light play against the glass walls, some acting like prisms. Horatio's office was very calming; sometimes Rick believed that he subconsciously got himself in trouble because he loved Horatio's office so much. Rick's office didn't have the glass walls, making him feel a little boxed in, despite the bay windows. That and he left it pretty cluttered. Plus, his office didn't have Horatio in it.
"Are you feeling better now?" Horatio whispered, approaching Rick.
The IAB sergeant looked up into his love's shining azure eyes. The sun danced over his body, making his crimson hair almost glow with a God-like light. His fine Italian suit hung on his form, clutching his body just so. Horatio's moist lips formed into a smile that was so slight and gentle.
Rick couldn't stand it anymore; he leaned in towards the redhead. He needed to taste his lover's mouth so desperately. Horatio quickly shoved Rick back against the desk before he became overwhelmed as well. Stetler looked back at him longingly.
"I'm sorry," Horatio started, "I want it too. But… my office… glass… get out now".
Rick nodded obediently, quickly stumbling out. Horatio rested his body against the desk, watching as Rick quickly rushed to the elevator to get up to the third floor. His hand brushed against something soft and warm, he turned his blue eyes to examine it. It was Rick's Styrofoam coffee cup; Horatio brought it to his lips, tasting Rick's mouth on the rim. He hummed contentedly into the beverage, impatient for Tuesday's night to come. That will be when they can truly be together.