Disclaimer: I own no part of CSI: Miami. That honour is bestowed upon Jerry Bruckheimer productions, CBS, Alliance Atlantis, and possibly others that I'm unaware of.

Perspective

Summary: Two similar lessons are learned by two very different people during an armed robbery attempt in Miami Beach. Slight DuCaine, but if you're not a fan then just skip the final section.

Quick A/N: This takes place somewhere between first and second season I suppose, before Speedle died for sure, and also before Hagen. Please ignore any possible timeline inaccuracies, I was too lazy to go through every DVD to double check. I guess you could call this my very late, somewhat different response to the unaired Officer Down episode from a couple years ago, looking at the Calleigh/Horatio relationship.

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Alan Barnett was mad. Okay, maybe not mad, but definitely frustrated. This was the third trip he had made to the grocery store today, and he had a feeling that he would be making many more. His wife was three months pregnant and going through some serious cravings. She had sent him to the store, again, because he had gotten the 'wrong' brand of crackers. Twice. He considered himself a pretty understanding guy, but even he had his limits. They'd had an argument when he had left, which he was sure he would feel guilty about later, but for now he was just content to remain pissed off. Spying the elusive box of what he hoped were the right crackers he made a grab for them, then headed to the frozen food aisle, deciding to get himself something for dinner because God knows that Amy wasn't in any mood to cook dinner tonight, and quite frankly, neither was he.

As he rounded the corner he noticed a very distinctive man and woman walk into the store. The woman was petite in stature, but definitely not in attitude. She walked with a swagger that just screamed confidence. Her male partner certainly wasn't lacking in that department either, his dark sunglasses and dark suit jacket making an imposing combination. They walked straight up to the checkout, and asked to speak to the manager. As the woman shifted her position, Alan could clearly see a gun strapped to her waist, next to an official looking badge.

'Police officers', Alan thought to himself, mildly interested in this distraction to his long day. He couldn't quite figure out why there were rubber gloves sticking out of the woman's back pocket, or why the man was carrying a silver box that looked like it could contain fishing gear, but didn't spend too much time pondering it. He watched as the manager appeared from the store-room, and then the three of them disappeared into the back. He kept an eye on the door for a couple more seconds, idly wondering why they were there, but when they didn't reappear, he turned his attention back to the freezer, contemplating what he wanted for dinner that night.

As he made the rest of his selections and headed to the front of the store, the door chime brought his attention to the entrance, and he noticed a teenager dressed in dark clothes wearing a black floor length duster come in. Alan laughed to himself; he couldn't understand some teenagers' strange desires to follow these fashions. It's Miami for heaven's sake, who wants to wear all black? A second later he understood why as the kid pulled a semiautomatic pistol from under the jacket and sent a round into the air.

"Everybody down on the floor now! I mean now!" yelled the teenager. Alan froze in shock. He had only ever seen guns in movies and TV shows, never in real life. Some may call him a wimp, but he preferred to think of himself as careful. He never had any real interest in firearms, and his interest wasn't being piqued now. With all these random thoughts running through his head, he never noticed that the couple of other customers in the store had dropped to the floor, as well as the lone clerk behind the counter. The robber, however, didn't fail to notice this discrepancy.

"Didn't I tell you to get down? You have five seconds to get on that floor before I give you a bullet to help!"

Alan dropped his groceries and quickly followed them down. He stayed on the ground, shaking, as the teen continued to glare at him. The kid must have been satisfied, because he turned away and headed over to the checkout counter and the cash till. Just then, Alan noticed the door to the back room open as the two police officers from earlier carefully crept out, looking around, their guns now drawn.

The woman went left and the man went right, keeping low and out of sight of the would-be robber. Getting to his location first, the woman popped up, her gun aimed at the center of the kid's head.

"Miami-Dade PD. Drop your weapon now, and put your hands behind your head."

The robber spun in place, his gun levelled at the new threat.

"Put your weapon down and put your hands behind your head," the woman repeated. Meanwhile, the man had been moving ever closer, keeping a watchful eye on the teenager's movements. The kid was now effectively trapped, the door to the store behind the woman and the man behind him, blocking off any possible escape out the back.

The robber's eyes flicked back and forth between the two officers, weighing his options. Realizing that he had none, the kid began to lower his weapon. That was when things went wrong.

Alan caught movement out of the corner of his eye as the store manager came out of the back room, waving yet another gun around, threatening the kid. As both the female and male officers' eyes shifted to this new threat, the robber took his chance.

Alan heard the gun shot, but had his head ducked so didn't have a clue as to what was happening. He heard someone yell out 'Calleigh!' followed by more gun shots and the door chime announcing someone's entrance or exit. Shortly thereafter, a man's slightly strained voice yelled "This is Lieutenant Horatio Caine requesting medical assistance and backup at Greenday's Grocery on Alton Road. We have an officer down, I repeat, an officer down!" Hearing no other gunshots, Alan figured that at this point it was safe enough for him to raise his head. The man was now crouched next to the woman, who was on the ground holding her hand over her upper arm. Even from thirty feet away Alan could see the blood seeping out from between her fingers. Too shell-shocked to move, he just sat there and watched, along with the rest of the patrons of the store.

The red head's full attention was focused on the wounded woman in front of him.

"Calleigh. Look at me, can you look at me? I just want you to relax, the paramedics are on the way." He had grabbed a tea towel which was hanging on a nearby display and began to wrap it around her arm, stemming the blood flow much more effectively than her hand was.

"Horatio, I let him get away. We had him, and now he's gone. The one time we have a chance to stop a crime before it happens and I ruined it." She was speaking quickly and her eyes were darting around rapidly, the adrenaline obviously still pumping. She seemed almost oblivious to the blood now seeping from under the towel being tied around her arm.

"I don't want you to worry about that right now. This was not your fault. I just want you to sit tight for a bit and then I'll be right back. Can you do that for me?" the man, Horatio, asked. He seemed reluctant to leave her, but seeing her relax back against the counter he appeared to be convinced that she would be alright for a few minutes. He then got up and went to the store manager who was standing, slack-jawed, by the back door.

"Put the gun down." The man's voice was now cold, and kind of scary; a harsh comparison to what it had been a moment earlier while talking to the woman. The manager complied immediately, looking a little stunned. "Do you realize what you just did?" Horatio's voice left no room for argument.

"I just, I thought I should… I wanted to protect…" the store manager was stammering, and he couldn't seem to string a sentence together if his life depended on it. Which, with the glare he was receiving from the red-haired officer it quite possibly might.

"Then let me explain it to you very clearly. First, you were obstructing justice by not letting us take your fingerprints and a DNA sample. Then, you interrupted an arrest and allowed a perpetrator to escape, in the process causing an injury to one of my CSI's. Now, I'm not sure what made you think it was a good idea to come out waving a gun around, and actually I'm not interested. What I am interested in is figuring out exactly what I'm going to charge you with. I haven't given it much thought yet but I'm sure that we can come up with something fitting."

The manager's eye twitched at the implications, but other than that he still didn't move a muscle.

"I want you to go over to that bench by the door, and sit. You do not so much as breathe without my permission. Do you understand?" The manager evidently did, as he moved immediately over to the bench, his gaze never leaving his shoes as if he wanted to avoid looking at the destruction he had caused.

The man Alan had concluded was named Horatio went back over to the woman, Calleigh, checking on her quickly. Alan thought she was starting to look a little pale, but Horatio was evidently satisfied for the moment as he stood up and addressed the rest of the store.

"Can everyone please give me your attention." It was a command, not a request. "Is anyone else injured?" Alan exchanged glances with the other customers, slowly shaking his head no with everyone else.

"Good. I understand that right now you are scared, and would probably like nothing more than to get home, but I could really use your help. What I would like to do is call in some other officers, and have them take your statements. Is that okay with everyone?"

Alan just nodded mutely with the rest of the people in the store, not quite sure what to think of this very imposing man.

"Okay then. If everyone could carefully come to the front of the store and make yourselves as comfortable as possible, someone will be with you shortly." He paused for a second to check that everyone was complying with his request, then immediately turned his attention back to his downed comrade.

"Calleigh? Calleigh, how are you doing?" The Lieutenant's voice again had the soft quality that he seemed to reserve only for her.

"Fine," she quietly replied. He gave her an encouraging smile as he pulled out his cell phone again.

"Alright, you hang in there. I'm going to call Eric right now, and then the paramedics will be here any second, okay?" She nodded her understanding. "Eric? This is Horatio. I need you to get Speedle and come down to the Greenday Grocery in Miami Beach and bring your kits. Calleigh was shot while attempting to stop a robbery." Horatio glanced quickly at his partner, who was once again leaning back against the counter, this time with her eyes closed. "She's losing blood, but I think that she'll be okay once the ambulance gets here. I just need you guys down here as soon as possible to process the scene. Good, I'll see you soon." With that he snapped the phone closed and sat down next to Calleigh, his fingers resting lightly on her wrist, checking her pulse.

Alan watched the man in fascination. He had never met anyone so caring, and yet so commanding in his life. His thoughts all of a sudden turned to his wife and unborn child. Here he was, complaining about running a small errand for his wife, when this man and woman risked their lives every day to save people that they didn't even know.

He knew that it sounded clichéd, but his somewhat near death experience had opened his eyes. As he watched the paramedics come in and saw the caring in Lieutenant Caine's eyes for the injured woman in front of him, Alan Barnett came to a realization. No matter how irritated he got with his wife, no matter how much the little things annoyed him, he loved her more than anything. He knew that if that had been his wife sitting on the ground bleeding he would have been terrified out of his mind for her. The little things he had been annoyed with seemed to fade into the distance as he thought about what he would do without her. As he watched Horatio climb into the ambulance with Calleigh after briefly talking to two men who had just pulled up in a gold Hummer, he sent a silent thanks their way for opening up his eyes to something that he had almost forgotten: nothing mattered more than love.

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Five hours later Lieutenant Horatio Caine sat in Mt. Sinai's ER, signing some papers so he could get Calleigh out of there and back to her own place, where he was sure she would be much happier. She seemed to remember in the ambulance how much she hated hospitals, but unfortunately she didn't have a choice in the matter.

Horatio sighed as he leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. It had just sunk in how easily he could have lost Calleigh today. Thinking back on it, he realized that recently he had been taking her presence for granted. The sniper scare and the Hank Kerner situation had made him feel like Calleigh was invincible. Today he was reminded very harshly how far from the truth that was. The fear he had felt when he had seen Calleigh go down served to remind him just how much he cared about her. Everything else paled at the thought that he could have lost a member of his team today. And not just any member. Eric and Speed meant a lot to him, but not in the same way that Calleigh did. As he watched her being escorted into the waiting room in a wheelchair, and caught sight of the glare on her face he came to a realization: it didn't matter that they worked together, or that it may be frowned upon; nothing mattered more than love.

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A/N: My knowledge of Miami streets is limited to what I could find on Google maps, so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I didn't want to use a real grocery store so I just made one up. I also apologize for the sappiness of the last part, but nothing else seemed to work. Lastly, I know you've heard this before, but reviews are always appreciated, and most importantly, thanks for reading: )