A/N: This mainly sprang up from reading Melanie-Anne's stuff for like weeks. The same stuff over and over. That's how good she is. Um…any characterization problems, that's my fault. I only watched like a few episodes. It just seized me one day, this fandom. Hm. Load of thanks to Sara for betaing. Otherwise, this'd be a piece of crap-ola.

He had always wished he'd taken initiative. He had always been afraid, and it seemed as if he had spent his entire life concocting excuses not to be with this woman. How stupid he was. He had longed for her and wanted her, and now, she was gone. She had passed from his life, flown, like a butterfly, fleetingly into the sky. It stared intimidatingly at him from his table. He knew what was inside. He knew what it requested. And he didn't want to comply. He didn't want to comply with anything written formally on the paper. This is what he had wanted. He had wanted her to be happy.

He returned to find her nameplate conspicuously absent. Perhaps they were cleaning it...or perhaps…He shook his head, trying to clear the thought from his mind. It was simply a custodial error. And with that rational explanation filtering through, somehow, the one plaguing his mind was the one that was growing. He quickly gathered his things, hoping that somehow, the mediocrity would distract him. It didn't. He drove towards his home when the plaguing thought began to force his attention. The gears of his mind were turning, constantly clicking with movement, clicking so furiously that he clenched his jaw to pull attention away from the pain slowly intensifying in his temples. He turned and headed for her apartment.

She listened to the sound of tape, ripping against itself. She took comfort in the sound. Perhaps it was her enjoyment of internal conflict that allowed her to take such pleasure in it. She didn't dwell on explaining. She merely enjoyed. She was thankful for the mental reprieve packing allowed her. She didn't want to have to think about where she was going, what she was doing, or whom she was leaving behind. Especially whom she was leaving behind. She ripped the tape, and sank her lithe form down on top of the newly sealed box. It was the final one. All that was left was to pack the scant amount of boxes into her car, and drive. She wanted no more of Miami. She had no reason to stay. Well, perhaps one reason, but she had already reached a decision. Besides, she figured, since the feeling wasn't mutual, it didn't qualify as a legitimate reason anyway. A knock interrupted her thoughts. She had a pretty good idea who it was at the door. She released a shaky breath, before heading over to the door and opening it. Her suspicions were correct.

He asked a silent question, and she stepped aside, allowing him entrance. His eyes flitted around the room, and all the answers he needed were right there. "You're leaving."

"Mm."

"I don't want you to leave." His comment was plain, candid. She didn't want to listen to it.

"I'm sure the lab can continue without me."

"It's not about the lab."

Her eyes flared with unspoken anger. "There has always been something unspoken between us, Horatio. And you didn't act on it because of who you were, because of the lab." She scoffs. "Unbelievable." Her eyes flicker closed a second, before opening. "Please leave."

Again, the clicking starts up again, and the pain in his head is nothing compared to the pain that's attacking his heart. Without uttering a word, he turns on his heel, and heads out the door. If I wasn't such a coward, I would have stayed. I should have stayed. He can't help but dwell on the subject.

If he hadn't been such a coward, maybe she would have stayed…but she left. She left for Washington DC. And as he eyes the paper on the table, she moved on.