Disclaimer: The characters herein are owned by CBS. I am not affiliated with CBS.
Horatio Caine stood by the large window in his office, watching his young co-worker, Tim Speedle, head off on his crotch-rocket motorcycle. It brought him back to his youth in 1976, carefree and invincible. He could feel the soft cotton of his favorite dark blue lace-up t-shirt, faded Levi's with the rip in the right knee, and his worn black boots. Speeding down the very same street on his black and red moped. He rode beneath overhanging branches and fresh spring blossoms and he was not only happy, but pleased with his own happiness. In just a few moments he would reach his home. His younger brother, Raymond, would beg for a spin while his mother would beg him to sell the damn thing. He didn't know why this particular image came to him, but it felt like something real, something reaching out and touching his skin.
"Here's the results you needed, H. And we have an interview tomorrow morning with the witness." The voice of Eric Delko broke the silence, bringing Horatio back to 2003, and leaving him with a momentary ache in his heart.
Delko moved over to the window, noticing his co-worker speed down the street, and let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, H, he's crazy. I'd never ride one of those things and I know you wouldn't." Eric remarked.
Horatio paused, still staring out the window. "What makes you think I wouldn't ride one?" This time Eric let out a full-fledged laugh as he eyed-up his boss, imagining the black-suited, straight-laced, somber chemist flying down the road in a chromed and polished hog. "H, you've been out in the sun too long, man!"
"He's been working too hard. H, you need a vacation. I don't think you ever had one." Calleigh Duquesne drawled as she entered. "Besides, you're too old for something like that…Eric, I've been looking all over for you…" She grabbed Eric's arm and led him into the hall, leaving Horatio before he could comment.
'Too old?'
Devastated by her comment, Horatio picked up the report that Delko left on his desk. Work was his refuge, his escape. He looked up from the report and glanced at his reflection in the glass door. Black suit, black shirt, black shoes, very serious in both dress and look. Maybe he was too old, or too solemn, or too mature…
Yet the open road called out to him, beckoning him to rediscover himself and the simple pleasures he once enjoyed.
A new day approached as workers entered the Miami-Dade municipal complex. Glimmering lights reflected from the asphalt as workers pulled in. Speedle roared through the lot and headed towards his usual shady spot. Until he noticed someone else parked there, a brand-new burnt orange Honda Goldwing 1800, it's rider still perched on the handsome black leather seat like a king on his throne, his face hidden beneath a sparkly white ¾ helmet. Even hard-core sport bike rider Speed couldn't resist a grin while staring at the large cruiser.
"1800 cc's…" Speed stated in awe as he dismounted his bike. Unfastening his helmet, he strode over to the awesome site.
"1832 actually." Replied the helmeted rider.
Speed's helmet fumbled in his hands as he recognized the voice from under the white crown. He was joined by his co-workers that also took notice of the blazing sun parked amid the dull sedans and SUVs. Delko, Calleigh and Alexx circled the bike, wondering if they should congratulate their mentor or have him committed. This was just so out of character for the straight-laced Horatio Caine. He looked so different, so rough, so young in his black leather jacket, faded and ripped Levi's, and heavy, black boots.
"H, we have to go to that interview now…" Delko reminded as he examined the shapely, pointed front of the bike.
"You take the Hummer. I'll meet you there." He replied as his bike roared into life.
"H," began Alexx, "…just what do you think you're doing?"
Horatio paused, looking up at the overhanging branches and fresh spring blossoms on the tree above. He thought if Ray could only see this bike, how he would plead for a spin, how he would enjoy the warm, sweet spring air as they roared down the street, carefree and invincible.
"I'm starting to live." Horatio replied, revved the bike a few times, and sped out of the lot.
The End
Horatio Caine stood by the large window in his office, watching his young co-worker, Tim Speedle, head off on his crotch-rocket motorcycle. It brought him back to his youth in 1976, carefree and invincible. He could feel the soft cotton of his favorite dark blue lace-up t-shirt, faded Levi's with the rip in the right knee, and his worn black boots. Speeding down the very same street on his black and red moped. He rode beneath overhanging branches and fresh spring blossoms and he was not only happy, but pleased with his own happiness. In just a few moments he would reach his home. His younger brother, Raymond, would beg for a spin while his mother would beg him to sell the damn thing. He didn't know why this particular image came to him, but it felt like something real, something reaching out and touching his skin.
"Here's the results you needed, H. And we have an interview tomorrow morning with the witness." The voice of Eric Delko broke the silence, bringing Horatio back to 2003, and leaving him with a momentary ache in his heart.
Delko moved over to the window, noticing his co-worker speed down the street, and let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, H, he's crazy. I'd never ride one of those things and I know you wouldn't." Eric remarked.
Horatio paused, still staring out the window. "What makes you think I wouldn't ride one?" This time Eric let out a full-fledged laugh as he eyed-up his boss, imagining the black-suited, straight-laced, somber chemist flying down the road in a chromed and polished hog. "H, you've been out in the sun too long, man!"
"He's been working too hard. H, you need a vacation. I don't think you ever had one." Calleigh Duquesne drawled as she entered. "Besides, you're too old for something like that…Eric, I've been looking all over for you…" She grabbed Eric's arm and led him into the hall, leaving Horatio before he could comment.
'Too old?'
Devastated by her comment, Horatio picked up the report that Delko left on his desk. Work was his refuge, his escape. He looked up from the report and glanced at his reflection in the glass door. Black suit, black shirt, black shoes, very serious in both dress and look. Maybe he was too old, or too solemn, or too mature…
Yet the open road called out to him, beckoning him to rediscover himself and the simple pleasures he once enjoyed.
A new day approached as workers entered the Miami-Dade municipal complex. Glimmering lights reflected from the asphalt as workers pulled in. Speedle roared through the lot and headed towards his usual shady spot. Until he noticed someone else parked there, a brand-new burnt orange Honda Goldwing 1800, it's rider still perched on the handsome black leather seat like a king on his throne, his face hidden beneath a sparkly white ¾ helmet. Even hard-core sport bike rider Speed couldn't resist a grin while staring at the large cruiser.
"1800 cc's…" Speed stated in awe as he dismounted his bike. Unfastening his helmet, he strode over to the awesome site.
"1832 actually." Replied the helmeted rider.
Speed's helmet fumbled in his hands as he recognized the voice from under the white crown. He was joined by his co-workers that also took notice of the blazing sun parked amid the dull sedans and SUVs. Delko, Calleigh and Alexx circled the bike, wondering if they should congratulate their mentor or have him committed. This was just so out of character for the straight-laced Horatio Caine. He looked so different, so rough, so young in his black leather jacket, faded and ripped Levi's, and heavy, black boots.
"H, we have to go to that interview now…" Delko reminded as he examined the shapely, pointed front of the bike.
"You take the Hummer. I'll meet you there." He replied as his bike roared into life.
"H," began Alexx, "…just what do you think you're doing?"
Horatio paused, looking up at the overhanging branches and fresh spring blossoms on the tree above. He thought if Ray could only see this bike, how he would plead for a spin, how he would enjoy the warm, sweet spring air as they roared down the street, carefree and invincible.
"I'm starting to live." Horatio replied, revved the bike a few times, and sped out of the lot.
The End