Horatio and... stories are still part of Horatio's Harem, but are now being listed separately.

CSI: Miami

Horatio/oc

Disclaimer: I own nothing of CSI: Miami, I do not know anyone connected with the show or with CBS and they do not know me, all of which is a shame.

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The Good Rebecca

"Cross-training, huh?" Ryan Wolfe unconsciously brushed his hand across his mouth; a habit when he disapproved of something but was too polite to say so outright.

Horatio watched as Calleigh gave Ryan her best, non-judgmental look while she encouraged, "Yeah, we all have to learn about every aspect of the lab, even if it's not our realm of expertise. You know that."

"It's just that 'Forensics of Digital Information' is so far out of what I do, it seems like a waste of time." Sometimes Wolfe's tendency to OCD made him a bit single minded.

"We have to go, Ryan. Come on! And you know that if we don't get there early, we'll have to sit up front. Do you really want to do that?" She gleamed a smile.

Horatio hadn't meant to overhear the conversation but he was glad he had. Not that he cared whether or not Ryan wanted to listen to the lecturer from the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, he was just glad he didn't have to be the one to make sure he attended. He imagined that Calleigh had gently cajoled several others as well. 'Now, who's going to make me go? Heh.'

Once there, however, he was glad he was. It was amazing how riveting a subject could be when delivered by a singularly striking woman. He knew that he'd remember several little tricks about data retrieval because each would be indelibly connected with a twist of delightful figure, a movement of strong, slender fingers, or a wave of lush, brown waist length hair.

Afterwards, he introduced himself. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to greet you before you started the lecture, Ms…"

"Agent Rebecca Evans, and that's quite alright, Lieutenant Caine." The woman had to look up as she stuck out her hand.

The name, Rebecca Nevins, ricocheted across Horatio's mind, throwing him for a loop.

"I was surprised at the turnout," she continued.

He froze his features into a polite smile, unaware that his head nodded and twisted, his chin quickly drawing a near perfect circle in the air. Pulling his hands to his hips, broadening his stance he asked, "The turnout?"

Her brows angled upward briefly over her deep brown eyes as she hesitated before answering, "Yes, usually I only see fellow computer geeks at these training programs, small groups, at best." She paused again, "I'm sorry, but is there something wrong?" He saw her eyes assess his six foot frame. "You seem, well, a bit upset or something."

Dropping his head, Horatio smiled. As a criminalist, trained to observe the minutia of human behavior, she'd obviously caught him broadcasting his discomfort. His hands casually found each other, fingers of one hand feeling the cuticle on the forefinger of the other. Swaying a step, narrowing his stance, he conscientiously eased his smile out of its tight grimace. "Umm, no, there's nothing wrong. We want everyone aware of all procedures here, so, you'll find your lectures well attended on each shift."

From the way her head lifted and moved back ever so slightly, he knew she wasn't buying his denial. The saving grace was that she had no reason to pursue the matter.

Ten minutes later, glad he'd received a call-out, Horatio thought as he was driving the causeway, 'Damn it!' The similarity to Rebecca Nevins' name had slammed him into a tizzy. He'd been so involved with her, had come to trust her, and then had been so betrayed! Her ruthless and self-serving manner had hurt beyond description. Then he cautioned 'Okay, now, back off, old boy. Rebecca Evans isn't Nevins, isn't even vaguely connected with her, so let it go.' A small voice snickered, 'Easier said than done'.

Late the next morning, coming into the lab from an early call-out, Horatio's eye was caught by the view of the BCA criminalist's form bending over Cooper's shoulder, pointing at a computer screen. This time her dark hair was pulled back and wrapped into some wondrous form that seemed to float at the back of her head giving her an exotic, queenly look. Name similarity or no, she was definitely attractive. He kept on walking.

Later that evening, seated at his desk, he heard, "May I talk to you a moment?" Rebecca was standing politely outside of his office door.

"Sure. What can I help you with?" He knew she had a lecture scheduled for the night shift and suspected she was just passing time. He closed the file he'd been examining and nodded at the chair in front of his desk.

Taking a seat she said, "Yesterday, someone was surprised that I'm not State's Attorney, Rebecca Nevins, and then mentioned your name in practically the same breath."

"Um, yes, well, that was a private matter." He laid his arms folded across each other on his desk and looked at her evenly.

Her face told him she wasn't going to back off as she leaned back and calmly waited. Since he played the silence game as well as she, she finally said, "I'll be done with my presentation in less than an hour. Can you have coffee with me tonight?"

"There's no point—"

"Oh, come on! I'm a guest of this department and as the senior here, you can, at least, treat me to a cup of coffee as a show of hospitality!" Rising to leave and, she paused at the door with look he couldn't quite decipher. "I'll see you in an hour, all right?"

An hour and a half later, they sat in the warm night on the low wall separating the beachfront walk from the sand, sipping the coffee from his favorite espresso stand. His jacket in the car, he'd rolled up the sleeves on his deep aquamarine shirt and sat with one knee up, leaning to one side, ready to listen to what she might have to say.

"The person who'd thought I was Ms Nevins said they were surprised she was back; made a remark about some sort of catty conversation overheard, in passing, between her and a police detective who was also your sister-in-law." At Horatio's slight head twist, Rebecca lowered her gaze. "That didn't sound like something you'd be upset about after all this time, so I looked up Ms Nevins' last case in which you might have been involved." She looked out across the beach and shook her head. "That deal she made with that man, considering his complicity in the murder, was disgraceful. I can see why the name similarity disturbs you. I am so sorry." She reached out to touch his forearm.

"Why should you be sorry? You have nothing to do with it, no connection to her."

"Nothing except for my name, my identity, which is so similar in sound to a person who acted outrageously that it still gets to you. Personally, no, I have no connection to her but my name brings up memories of what she did; it's no wonder you bristle every time I come near you." She wiped at her cheeks and sniffed. "Sorry. I cry when I get angry. Silly of me to get so emotional over your private business."

"It was a couple of years ago. I haven't seen her since."

"I probably overstepped my boundaries, and I apologize. I guess I was acting like a criminalist with no case. You seem like a really nice guy and I'm truly sorry for your discomfort." She tilted her head. "But, there's more to it than that, isn't there?"

It wasn't often Horatio felt another's genuine concern for his feelings. The edge on his initial urge to just shrug and say something to dismiss the whole thing, softened and dissipated. "I think, more than anything, I was stunned by what Rebecca did," he began.

Slowly, with no particular effort, he laid the burden of his feelings into her waiting arms. He watched her understand while fleeting smiles played at her mouth and tender looks lowered her lashes. She made no effort to make him better, said nothing to mend him, and yet accomplished it and more.

After he walked her to the door of her hotel suite, kissing her seemed as right and natural as had sharing his most intimate thoughts for the preceding hour or so. He hadn't felt so incredibly close to any woman in recent memory, perhaps never had. Her answering kiss brought an explosion of emotion from him, surprising his lately jaded id.

Less than half an hour later, he was surrounding her with his body, allowing himself to soar on the wings of sexual desire. Nor did she display any hesitancy in showing him what pleased her, heightening his own craving at the same time. At some point, he realized how perfectly his body seemed to fit with hers, how right it all seemed to be. Finally, an eternity after that terrible, blissful explosion that left his remains scattered across endless treks of space, he realized the name Rebecca no longer held quite the sense of frustration or sadness he'd once connected with it. He also knew he was on the way to healing from an illness he hadn't known he'd had.

After two more healing 'sessions' that same evening, he was finally able to inquire about her, and was delighted to hear that she had relatives in the Little Cuba neighborhood and even more so to hear that her next revelation.

"That's one of the reasons my department sent me; not just to show you guys the ropes in our specialty, but in hopes that we could open a channel between the two bureaus for information exchange. Both our labs are damned good at different things. You guys do wonders in forensic chemical analysis."

A few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed, Horatio contemplated her shadow in the light under the bathroom door. He could see many possibilities in a relationship with Rebecca, but first he wanted to establish one rule between them.

When she returned, he drew her naked body to stand between his bare legs. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head against stomach, enjoying her fragrance. As her hands caressed his hair and down his back, he blissfully closed his eyes. Then he said, "Do me favor? Never call me sir."

The End