These stories are still part of Horatio's Harem, but they 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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In the dream, he was reliving the same event as it had been two days before. A tip off had come in from a street source; the terrorists they'd been trying to find were housed in a small abandoned office building and he was in on the raid. Moving in with SWAT, they'd found the place empty. As too often happened, their target had been forewarned.
Even though they were sure their targets had fled, protocol still demanded a careful search of all three floors, room by room. Broken into teams, Horatio and one other officer had ended up in a corridor on the second floor. He'd almost forgotten that this tall, darkly clad figure, hugging the wall ahead of him, laser-sited rifle at the ready, was a woman. Only after she'd been assigned to team with him and she'd turned to him in acknowledgement, had he seen her face. Clad in the bulky bullet-proof outfit, he couldn't tell, otherwise. Behind the clear visor, slightly distorted by the curved plastic, below merry blue eyes, he saw one of the prettiest smiles he'd seen in a long time. The smile was so pretty, in fact, it caused him to wonder what it would look like combined with some of his features, on a child's face. 'Where in hell did that come from?' he'd wondered and then promptly had forgotten about it in the business of deciding tactics for the search.
They'd already cleared two rooms, and keeping in radio contact, were approaching a third. The place had been stripped, even to the blinds on the windows.
Quickly ducking across the open doorway, her shadow flashing in the shaft of sunlight, she examined the room from the second perspective. Using two fingers to point first at her eyes, then to him and to the room, she was indicating that he should look at something. Sidling along the wall and peering around the doorframe, taking in the whole room in one glance, he saw that the room was empty, except for the large bomb on the table. With two seconds left on the timer, he only had time to shout, as he did the same, "Hit the floor!"
Ten minutes later, he was being helped out from under the debris. Unhurt himself, relieved to see his fellow officer was nodding her okay, he inquired about other injuries. The blast had been set to do the most damage directly down and up, rather than outward, and so had blown holes in the floor and ceiling. The two that were killed had been in the room below, examining a pile of papers, probably placed in the room as a lure. Above, like Horatio, the officers had still been out in the corridor and the door to that room had been shut. The windows in the closed room had given out before the walls, and what was left of the sideways force of the detonation had gone out that way, so they were fine. A few people outside had been cut with flying glass shards but were otherwise alright.
While receiving the requisite exams by the emergency medical team in the ambulance, reports confirmed Horatio's suspicions. The terrorists had been working with radioactive material and this bomb was a sample of their work. The HazMat team had accompanied the raid, as a matter of course, and as soon as the ruins were cleared of victims, they'd gone in. Moments later they'd come rushing out with orders.
"We've got a shower set up over here and you need to get in now!" The man in the bulky suit indicated a twenty-foot trailer the team had brought.
Inside they were told, "There's only one shower and no time to allow one to get decontaminated and then the other. Both of you are going to have to go in there and strip, now!"
They both tried to be as polite, under the circumstances. However, even individually leaning over to remove pants and socks, while the other stood as closely to the wall as possible, the space was so small, not bumping their naked hips into each other was nearly impossible. The next step of the process brought them even closer. Once they were observed to have handed their clothing into a disposal box, the man operating the shower from behind the plastic view window turned on the water. For the process to work most effectively, they were required to stand, inches apart, facing each other, in the center of the room.
Until the water came on, Horatio had been successful at diverting his eyes to the upper corners of the room above Lian (she'd introduced herself while removing her shirt, a twinkle in her eyes). The water, streaming relentlessly from several angles from the ceiling, however, forced him to lower his head. Also, he had to keep his eyes open to know where he was in relation to her, as he and she turned and twisted to allow the water to wash at every crevice of their bodies. To say the least, he got an eyeful of her tightly muscular, though definitely feminine figure. If not for his own exposure, he'd have enjoyed the view.
To this point, the dream had followed the events accurately. As dreams do, however, subsequent events became rather bizarre. Instead of maintaining the control he'd held two days before, he'd found himself touching her but not with his hands or even his feet. Mortified, he tried to turn away but felt something warm and soft grasp and hold him. Suddenly, her other hand was pulling at his neck as she locked her lips onto his. Feeling the nipples of her small firm breasts burn into his chest, she raised a leg to around his waist as she guided that part of himself that had been so hopefully seeking, to a place that was a lot warmer than the shower water. Forgetting they were being observed by at least one if not several of the HazMat team, he wrapped his arms around her and fell with her to the ground, mindlessly pushing himself deeper into her lusciously soft core.
The next thing he knew, he was walking out of the trailer toward his team, happy as a clam and buck-naked. It wasn't until Calleigh turned away and looked to the bright sky, Eric smiled his lop-sided, puzzled grin and Ryan's eyes went wide as his hand went to the nape of his neck, that Horatio realized that something was definitely not right.
Of course, he woke up at this point. His wetness not soaked up by the sheet across his hips had already dribbled down his thigh to the sheet below.
Reviewing the dream while driving to work that morning, he realized that the dream had probably been an odd reminder to call her department and check up on her, to see that she was okay, and not suffering from any ill effects of the blast. They'd both been given clean bills of health, scheduled for follow up checks, just to be sure, but it was just polite to inquire of someone who'd gone through a near-death experience with you. That day, however, got busy even before he arrived at the lab and for several days thereafter until the idea of the call got buried under obligations to fill out case reports and follow ongoing investigations and, after a week, was nearly forgotten.
&&&
It was evening and Horatio was sitting on the bench in front of his locker. He heard a feminine, "Ahem."
Looking up to see Lian, he just couldn't force himself to make the polite gesture, couldn't rise to greet her. Of all times for her to find him, this was the worst. "Would you mind if we don't, right now?"
"Don't what?" She came in to the shadowy corridor of lockers.
"Talk, engage in," he sighed, looking for the words down through his fingers, "polite conversation."
"Sure, but why?" She approached cautiously and sat beside him, reflecting the same hunched over position as his, elbows on legs. Instead, however, of looking through her outstretched fingers, she lifted her palm with her fingers folded over and started to examine her fingernails, critically rubbing her thumb around the cuticles as if feeling for hangnails.
Before he could summon up the energy to plead to be left alone, she said, "Had to off some guy today, didn't you."
Perhaps two full minutes of silence passed before she continued. "It's an awful feeling, isn't it? I hate when I have to do it, myself, just hate it. I'm not just saying that just to be politically correct and all, like we're supposed to. It's like," she paused and formed her hand around an invisible ball, "I mean, last time, I had to kill a guy because he had a knife to a kid's throat! It was necessary! Still, I threw up for two hours after! It was him or the kid, but, still, not something one human does to another, is it?" The last two words were not an inquiry.
Five wordless minutes later she rose. "I came looking for you, hoping to maybe flirt about our last time together, maybe take you out do to dinner or something. Just so happens, it's not a good time, so maybe some time else." She pulled out a card and laid it on the bench beside the silent redhead. "Call me when you're ready." She gave him a companionable slap on the back and left.
If she hadn't said what she had, hadn't instantly recognized his anguish, he wasn't sure he would ever have used her card. However, what she'd said wouldn't leave his thoughts. For the last year or so, the only times he'd been 'out' had been with Frank or with team members. Though still a comrade-in-arms, Lian was a different animal, by far, and perhaps it was time to make new friends.
&&&
Two months later, Horatio was flat on his back, his face beet red, pushing with all of his might! His arms and chest were almost equally as red, making the hair on his arms appear gold in contrast.
"Come on, I know you've got it in you. One more time! Come on!" Lian's blond spiked hair glowed atop her pink face. Ordinarily pale as her Dutch ancestors, she colored easily, especially when she was yelling encouragement. Standing at the end of the bench on which Horatio lay, she stood poised above his head, legs flexed. Her hands were held half an inch under the weighted bar that Horatio was straining to push to full extension, ready to catch it should he fail. The view would have been spectacular to him if he hadn't been so busy!
"You're doing it, babe! Do it. Do it! Yeah!" People passing by the gym door peeked in to see what the ruckus was about but she didn't pay the slightest bit of attention.
He succeeded in pushing the weight to full extension, locking his elbows and she helped him set the bar into the cradle. As he relaxed, she ran around the set up to her protégé's side and fell to one knee as he mopped at his face with a towel. "Ten more pounds and four more reps than last week! You're doing great, guy!"
"Tell me again, why in hell I'm doing this?"
"Because it's fun!" She sprang up, picked up a fifteen-pound dumbbell, sat on a bench a few feet away, and started doing arm curls with her left hand. She'd propped her elbow on her leg which was still flushed reddish pink from her lower body workout for the last hour. Enjoying the site of her brightly colored legs spread wide as her arm extended down between and then curled again, Horatio sat up. Still feeling the pump in his muscles from the effort of the bench presses, he didn't get the feeling of excitement he ordinarily might have and was glad of it. Dressed in light shorts, even with a jock strap, in a brightly lit atmosphere as this, such a reaction could be embarrassing. He wondered if she had any idea what a glorious sight she was.
"Besides, it's part of the job, keeping in shape," she continued.
"Tell you what. Next time, we'll go do something else, for the job."
&&&
Horatio removed the brightly colored ear protection from his head and waited while the two paper targets swiftly skimmed over the wire towards him. Lian's target arrived first. Satisfied with what he saw on his mark, he heard a quiet, "Damn!" from the booth next to his.
Going around the partition to stand closely behind her, he looked over her shoulder at the erratic pattern of holes scattered widely around the center of her target.
"I don't do this badly in the field. What's the use of practice when it's so different?" Her hands wound expressively through the air, showing her frustration.
"Practice is for improving your skills under controlled circumstances. But, yes, out in the field, it's a lot different."
"Out there, I'm all excited and driven, and just seem to always be right on!"
"Hm. Okay, let's try something, then. Set yourself up again and I'll stay right here, behind you." Horatio checked over his shoulder to be sure no one was observing.
A moment later, she was poised, sighting down her gun barrel. "Okay, I'm about to fire."
Horatio stood back and took a look at her stance. "First, try a twist, here." He put his hands on her hips and slightly realigned them, which forced her shoulders to turn a bit. Then he slid his foot next to hers. "Now, widen your legs, just about to this." He pushed at the side of her shoe. "Okay, now, I want you to fire once, allow me to try something, and then you fire six rounds after that."
He placed one hand on the flat of her back just above the waistband of her sweatpants, the other stayed at the side of her waist, ostensibly to steady her. He waited for the first shot. As soon as her gun exploded, he drove his hand down, under the elastic top to the inside of her pants, and swiftly found the top of her underwear. Glad they were traditional panties, not the more popular thong, he slipped his palm inside and curled down between her legs, into the opened area of her warm crotch, created by the wide stance he'd made her assume. "Don't stop, keep firing." Feeling the soft, slightly moist pubic hairs against his hand, he wiggled his fingers just ever so slightly. Her intake of breath couldn't be heard under the volley, but he felt her body tense up exactly as he'd intended. He held his hand steady as she fired.
When her arms lowered, he withdrew his hand and hit the button to bring the target forward. He also took a large step backward, not sure of what would come next.
Lian stood stalk still, her hands on the counter beside her resting gun, watching at the approaching target. Silently, she looked at the collection of holes, all within the center area. Turning to look at him, "So, I just need someone to stick his hand down my pants whenever I do target practice for keen results like that?"
Horatio returned her smile, relieved he didn't have to duck. "Heh. More convenient if you just use your imagination. Anything that raises your adrenalin will work."
"It's more fun without imagining." She winked.
"When my instructor did that to me, I was ready to club him with my gun. Since I'd just emptied it perfectly into the target, I didn't. Using a slight variation of his technique, I tried it on you."
She peered around the partition to the entry area, checking if anyone was around, and then reached out and caressed the fabric at his groin. "We've got some more practicing to do, so tit for tat." If he read her face right, she very pleased with herself as she turned to the counter.
Straightening his spine at her pleasurable touch, Horatio, had to stop himself from grabbing at her. Not saying a word further, he walked with a measured pace to his own booth. After feeling her up, then this, maintaining control of his physical reaction was all he could do.
They'd agreed on going for ten magazines of ammunition before calling it a night. He ended with the best practice score he'd had in months and he didn't hear a 'damn,' from her side for the rest of the session.
Later, at her apartment, Horatio gave Lian a demonstration of target shooting of an entirely different sort. At some point in the evening, he found himself wondering what his features, blended with hers, would look like.
End
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