Prompt: Natural disaster (hurricane, tsunami, etc.)

Gimme Shelter

Thunder rumbled behind the constant drone of the civil defense siren for the F3 hurricane. Despite the howling wind that pushed against the Crime Labs, the shelter set up there was almost empty. The officers and forensic examiners had, for the most part, gone home to be with their families.

The shelter had about two dozen cots, each covered with thick blankets and pillows to give the illusion of comfort. There was a television telling them not to risk going outside when the storm was so close. Cases of water, bread, and orange juice lined a wall with a locked metal cabinet, probably stocked with bandages and insulin. There was a man sitting on a cot in the corner, reading an e-reader and tapping impatiently on a coffee maker that looked like it was stolen from the break room.

"Stetler?"

Rick smirked before looking up and meeting Horatio Caine's eyes. "Horatio. Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

"Guarding the medicine," he answered, holding up some odd looking keys as evidence. "Did you know we keep morphine in there? I don't know about you, but if I were hurt badly enough in a hurricane to need morphine, I would be seeking refuge in a hospital."

"Well, some people don't have a choice, Rick."

"You have a suitcase," he noted, changing the subject.

Horatio looked at the good-sized suitcase he had carried down from the crime labs. "I decided to stay upstairs a little longer to get some work done. I packed it in case the storm got too rough before I could finish."

"I think we packed for the same reason," Rick commented as he watched the redheaded CSI set his luggage down on the cot next to his. "It's not like either of us have anyone to go home to."

"We don't," Horatio confirmed with a whisper, the small bed creaking slightly as he sat.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Rick trying to concentrate on his book while Horatio stared quietly at the floor. The redhead seemed to be lost in thought, a smile creeping across his lips. It was a mischievous grin that he had only when he was up to no good. Stetler knew it well.

"Alright, Caine, what is it?"

"What's what?"

"You." Sighing, Rick set his book down and sat up, facing the older man. "I'm afraid you just realized that we're probably going to be stuck here all night, just the two of us. So we are left with two routes. We could ignore each other and wait out the storm, hoping in vein that someone will come down to join us. Or we could do as we usually do, try to find new ways to annoy the hell out of each other. And seeing as there are 23 other cots in this room and you picked the one next to mine, I think you are planning on the latter."

"Always suspicious for no good reason," the redhead smirked. "I couldn't ask any less of you, Rick. Do you not think that I might just find you genuinely interesting?"

"I'm flattered, but that's not nearly a good enough reason for you."

"Then I guess you'll just have to be flattered." Horatio stretched out on the bed. "But if you want a reason – I heard a rumor."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the IAB Lieutenant tense for a second.

Rick cleared his throat. "And seeing as we're not 12, I'm guessing you know how to handle that."

"I heard someone in the break room mention something about you staying here because you knew I was 'such a workaholic that there would be no way I would make it home in time.' That it would give us 'a night to ourselves. A night alone and without interruption.'"

Rick swallowed hard, a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

"You know what that sounds like, Rick?" Horatio tested, sitting up and leaning in towards him. "It sounds… it sounds to me, Rick, that you have something planned for us."

"I don't know what you-"

Stetler quieted abruptly when the CSI leaned in and met their lips. There was a brief moment of struggle before Rick's eyes drifted closed and he took a firm grip on the front of Horatio's shirt. As they slowly broke away, the redhead chuckled softly.

"What the hell was that for?" Rick tried to growl as his cheeks flushed.

"Either what you had planned involved hitting me or kissing me back. I just didn't want to wait the rest of the night to find out which."

"Wait," muttered Rick, shaking his head. "So you knew that I wante- that is to say that I am somewhat interest- wouldn't mind experimenting… You knew?"

Horatio nodded, a sparkle in his eye that Rick never knew could be there.

"And you didn't want to wait until we maybe might have gotten to it later," Stetler figured. "So you…"

"I have to admit that you have my attention, had it for a long time now." Horatio ducked his head slightly, unable to stop himself from batting his baby blue eyes at Rick. "They say that people who argue as often as we do are just trying to subdue sexual tension. In all honesty, I'm surprised that you and I never ended up on the floor of IA, making out like a pair of drunken frat boys."

"I'm suddenly very interested in your college fraternities."

"I haven't been with anyone in a while," the redhead admitted shyly.

"To tell you the truth, neither have I."

"We can be adult about this…"

"It'll take the edge off."

Their lips met again.

"Pour me some coffee," Horatio whispered, his fingertips ghosting over Rick's thigh. "I'll push a few cots together.

Rick responded almost immediately, making Horatio smirk, thunder rattling the ceiling.