"No! No, you listen to me Horatio. I don't need a body guard. No fucking way—you understand?"
The red haired CSI sighed, hands on his hips. He'd only ever heard Speed yell on two other occasions in all the time that he'd known the younger man. Speed was normally a quiet man, his anger and displeasure voiced in soft but firm tones. For Speed to be yelling it meant that the young man was unbelievably and monumentally pissed. And although Horatio had faced down the sickest and most depraved people society could throw at him without flinching, Speed, angry like this, really scared him.
"Speed, listen to me." Horatio held his hands up in surrender. "I know you don't like the idea of a bodyguard, I understand that. But you've been the target of three hits this month alone." He put his hand on the black haired man's shoulders, trying to ease him back down into the chair he'd been sitting in earlier. "That doesn't even include what happened on Dispo Day. You and I both know they weren't there for the drugs we were getting rid off." Speed sat back down in the chair. "Tim, they were there for you. For you Tim. If you hadn't been wearing your vest…" Horatio's voice trailed off.
Speed sighed, dropping his head into his hands. His outright anger had gone as quickly as it had come. But Horatio didn't make the mistake of thinking that the other man had calmed down. That anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, waiting to explode outwards again. "Yeah," Speed agreed quietly. "I know. If it hadn't been for the vest I'd be dead." Neither of them brought up the fact that his gun had malfunctioned that because it was dirty. That was an entirely separate argument they'd hashed and rehashed on several occasions.
Horatio sat back down in his desk chair, glad that, at least for the moment, Speed had calmed down. They had been in his office for the last half hour fighting about a body guard. The Lieutenant was sure, thanks to the glass walls of his office, the two of them had put on quite the show for the rest of the crime lab. Horatio looked back at Speed. "Until we find out who put this hit of your name and why, you are going to have a body guard."
Speed lifted his head out of his hands to glare at his boss. "Horatio please—" he tried one last time.
"No," Horatio cut him off. "I know you hate the idea; I would too if it were me. But you are getting a body guard. I protect those I care about. And I absolutely refuse to lose you." The steel in Horatio's voice left no room for argument.
Speed nodded knowing he'd lost this argument. He had figured he would lose the fight even before he had stormed into Horatio's office, mad as all hells. "Fine. If it will make you happy, get me a body guard." Speed stood up, heading towards the door. "But if you find some six foot four blond ape with a Sig Sauer strapped to his hand to protect me, I'm quitting. You got that Caine?" Speed smirked looking back at his boss, letting him know that Speed wasn't really mad at him. He was just aggravated by the situation.
Horatio dipped his head in acknowledgement, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've got it—no blonde apes for you." The red head smiled inwardly, glad that he was of good terms with his trace expert again. The young man was family to him—and Horatio would do anything to protect his family. "He'll be here later today."
"I'll be in trace," Speed said walking out of Horatio's office. "That stupid fiber we found at the scene refuses to tell me what I want, even under pain of death." He paused and turned back towards Horatio. "But I'm sure I'll get it to tell me what I need. After all I am the world's foremost expert on fiber torture methods," he deadpanned. With that he walked out of the glass walled office back down towards the trace lab.
Horatio smiled. He felt sympathy for any fiber or piece of trace evidence, for that matter, that ever had the misfortune of crossing Speed's path.