Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami or Criminal Minds, I just play with them on weekends and return them in a gently used condition. Please don't sue :-)

A/N: Thanks to everyone on the MiamiFicTalk and AllThingsHoratioCaine Yahoo groups for your feedback. Morgaine, I believe in giving credit where it's due; thank you for being my beta! A special thank you to David Caruso for his wonderful performances which provide the grist for my fiction mill :-) Please R & R, I'm a sensitive little rabbit who lives for praise!

Warnings: It's Criminal Minds + Miami boys and girls; not Walt Disney! Rated M for all the things that make life worth living. Things are heating up; if you can't take it, you know what to do!

Chapter 4

She lied; she looked you straight in the eye and she fucking lied. Horatio stared at the test results for the tenth time; hoping that he'd read them incorrectly – no such luck. The proof leaped off of the computer screen and sucker punched him; he heard the rush of blood in his ears as the ambient sounds of the lab receded to a dull roar. He hit the print button, only half listening to the whir of the machine; anger and betrayal a dark shadow in his mind, gaining strength with each passing second.

He'd slunk into the lab after two cups of coffee, a hot shower and three hours of sleep; needing the focus of the job to counterbalance the chaos of the past two days. The lab was buzzing with the story of the lockup incident; Horatio had resorted to a tried and true method of discouraging conversation - he walked fast and carried a clipboard. After checking in with Calleigh in Ballistics he'd made a phone call and retreated to the Trace lab to run a hair analysis test. The scars on her arm were just the tip of the iceberg ….

"Here we go again." Horatio murmured under his breath; slipping the lab results into a folder and heading for the elevator, noting the ominous clouds gathering outside. Rain in Miami wasn't unheard of; but it was rare enough to catch people used to perpetual sunshine off guard – particularly if it was non-hurricane related. Violent downpours drenched everything in sight, sending the population running for cover; only to dissolve into brilliant sunlight and increased humidity a short time later - this one looked like it was going to hang around for a while. With any luck he'd make it to the ME's office before the storm broke.

Alexx extracted another piece of glass from the wound tract, dropped it in a numbered evidence envelope and placed it with five other identical envelopes on the trolley beside her. The young man on her autopsy table should have been going to high school and playing basketball on the weekends; instead he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time – struck by a car and thrown into a plate glass window. Irresistible force met the immovable object…

"You shouldn't be here baby; you should be playing pickup games with your friends." She always talked to her patients; it was her way of giving them dignity and humanity. Sometimes she played her Etta James CD's while she worked - what the room lacked in ambience it made up for in great acoustics. After all, the dead couldn't criticize her musical tastes; even if she did sing off-key.

"Alexx, do you have a minute?" Horatio's voice filled the autopsy room, courtesy of the intercom.

Somebody should put a bell around his neck! Startled, she glanced up to find him looking down at her from the glassed in observation area that ran in a half arc around the top of the autopsy theatre; his black suit and grey dress shirt blending with the shadows – rendering his copper hair all the more brilliant in the reflected light from below.

"For you; always, this young man's in no hurry. I'll be right up." He was deep in thought when she joined him a few minutes later; tapping the edge of a file folder on the railing in front of him in an absent rhythm. "You've been an elusive guy the past few days; everything okay?"

"I had a situation that I needed to take care of." Horatio gave her a sidelong glance. "Actually, that's why I came to see you. I need your professional opinion on something."

Alexx raised an elegantly arched brow, smiling. "Like I told Calleigh once; people say that when they already know the answer and want me to agree with them." She studied the man beside her, noting the tension in his body. "What is it that you want me to look at?"

"This." The words came out in a rush as he handed the folder to her. His voice sounded harsh and raspy. "What do those results tell you?"

Alexx took the folder from him; the tone of his voice had her worried. Horatio was always so controlled; whatever was in that folder obviously touched a nerve. She injected a soothing note into her voice. "Horatio, tell me what's wrong."

"More than you know Alexx; more than you know." He shook his head slightly. "What do you see?"

Alexx opened the folder and scanned the contents; the man asked for an opinion, so give him one … "Someone in pain, and I don't mean just the physical kind. People don't mix Prozac, Vicodin and alcohol unless they're seriously self-medicating; and it looks like whoever this is has been doing it for a long time – with a major spike in the past two days. But you already know that." She looked into Horatio's ice blue eyes, confronted by an expression so bleak and strained that she felt tears forming; he looked ready to shatter into a million pieces. "What's going on Horatio?"

"She lied to me Alexx; just like Ray." Horatio felt a stabbing pain in his fingers. Looking down, he discovered that he had a white knuckle grip on the railing; fingernails digging into his palms. With conscious effort he uncurled his fingers; massaging the joints to restore the blood flow, bitter laughter filling the room. "And now I have to pick up the pieces - again." Alexx didn't know what to say as looked at him; Horatio wouldn't be this broken up over a stranger; these lab results belonged to someone they knew, someone they worked with…

His cell phone rang insistently "I have to take this call; it's the FBI." A condemned man about to face a firing squad felt happier than he did at this moment.

"We'll talk later." Alexx handed the folder back to Horatio; a dark suspicion taking root in her mind as she left the room. Nobody truly knows anyone … Dear Lord, help them both.

"Count on it." He replied; ensuring the door was closed securely - walls had ears. In a neutral voice he said "Agent Gideon, thank you for returning my call."

"Lieutenant Caine; to what do I owe the pleasure?" The voice was polite and measured.

"Agent Gideon, there's been a development; Ross is no longer able to work the Andrews case. She's a material witness; Andrews attempted suicide two nights ago."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. "That's unfortunate; probably the reason she called me. I've been trying to get in touch with her."

"It's difficult to answer the phone when you're in the hospital unconscious and recovering from a drug overdose." Horatio's voice was icy. "I would say we need to get together and do some damage control – wouldn't you?"

"Agreed; I'll call you in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting." Horatio hung up before the other man could reply He dialled Calleigh's cell phone as he walked to the Hummer.

"Welcome back to the land of the living Handsome; what can I do for you?" Calleigh sounded tired; one hundred plus casings from the Calle Ocho shooting and counting. Note to self; sign those overtime slips.

He climbed into the driver's seat just as fat raindrops started hitting the windshield.

"You can put out the welcome mat; we're expecting guests, assuming they don't drown in this downpour first."

Calleigh's laughter was a musical counterpoint to the rain. "I'll make sure they wipe their feet and get a dose of southern hospitality." In a quiet voice she added "Ross just called; she's back at home, I thought you should know."

"How is she?" Horatio listened to the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the Hummer. You're asking out of professional concern; there's nothing personal involved … yeah right!

"Hard to tell – she's not exactly the sharing type." Calleigh replied.

Horatio got the unspoken message; just like you. "I'll be on the cell if you need me."

"Good luck."

"Thanks Calleigh; I'm going to need it." Horatio hung up and started the engine; turning on the windshield wipers. For the second time in as many days he drove towards Ross's house; the familiar feeling of dread increasing with every mile. Looks like we'll finally get to finish our conversation …

BAU Headquarters: Quantico, VA

"What's with the secret confab in Hotchner's office?" Penelope Garcia's inquiry roused Dr. Spencer Reid from an unscheduled cat nap; he nearly face planted into his computer keyboard. Garcia gave him a puckish grin in keeping with her blonde pigtails and straightened the stack of papers that had fallen off the edge of the desk.

"Are you saying that you don't know; you the Queen of all Knowledge, with all your sources of info? Garcia, I'm shocked!" Reid exclaimed in mock horror; spinning around in his office chair like a demented dervish. "First Santa Claus, then the Easter Bunny – now this; my illusions are shattered beyond repair!"

"Even I have my limitations. And you told me you found out that Santa and the Easter Bunny weren't real when you were six." Garcia chuckled, eyes sparkling with mirth behind her glasses. "Give this to Gideon when they come up for air will you? I'm butt deep in this project that Ross has me working on." She tossed a folder onto the desk.

Reid raised his eyebrows. "Sure, what is it; or do I really want to know? How's Ross doing in Miami by the way?"

Garcia shrugged. "In order the answers are: background info, not really and she's been working so hard that I haven't been able to reach her for two days; which is freaky weird." She waved as she headed back to her office; a cubby-hole overrun with computers. "Later, sunshine."

The sound of the door opening had Reid looking up to see Derek Morgan and Jason Gideon coming down the stairs. Senior Special Agent Aaron Hotchner stood frowning in his office doorway. Of the three only Hotchner wore the suit and tie that everyone expected of an FBI agent; Morgan and Gideon's attire ran more towards jeans and t-shirts – with Morgan's fitting better and actually colour coordinating.

"Gideon, Garcia left this for you." Reid held up the folder; the gloomy expression on the older man's face kept him from saying more.

"Thanks." Gideon plucked the file from Reid's hand and tossed it to Morgan; who caught it one handed. "A little light reading for the trip; meet you at the jet in an hour. Don't forget your sunscreen." He walked into his office and slammed the door without another word.

"He seems – upset." Reid remarked, looking to Morgan for an explanation. One of the drawbacks of being the youngest member of the team was that he was often the last to know things; unless they were case related.

"You don't know the half of it Reid." Morgan tucked the folder under his arm and stared at Gideon's door with a grave expression on his handsome face.

She was waiting for him as he drove up; the skinny gray cat draped over her shoulder like a ghostly scarf. Rain pounded on the Hummer's roof like an upended bucket of ball bearings; the short distance between the vehicle and the doorstep seeming endless. Humidity rushed in as he opened the door; fogging the windows. Cursing under his breath he made a break for it; thankful his shoes had non-skid soles as raced up the front walk, hitting the front step in a bound that made Ross back up slightly.

He knows. A chill ran through her that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the man in front of her. Horatio Caine was furious; giving her a glimpse of hell in a burning ice-hued glance. Ross unconsciously tightened her grip on the cat; earning a meow of irritation and the subtle pressure of claws. The disorientation she'd felt in the lockup returned. Only this time it was just the two of them, no witnesses. Admit it; you've always wondered what would happen ….

Horatio felt rainwater dripping down the back of his neck; amazed that it didn't turn to steam, every muscle tense from resisting the impulse to grab her. Christ! If she didn't stop looking at him like that he'd … you are so not going there! Hey genius; she's a lying junkie remember? Focus!

"Calleigh didn't allow for weather conditions when she called." Ross's husky voice was devoid of emotion. "You're five minutes late."

"My apologies." The smile he gave her wasn't friendly as he finger combed his dripping hair back from his forehead and braced his left hand against the doorframe behind her; a reversal of the desk incident in his office, leaning in until his lips nearly touched her ear; grateful that they were the same height, watching her pupils dilate – the only indication that she was effected by his proximity. Payback's a bitch sweetheart, he thought smugly. In a devastating whisper he said "Inside or out here; your call – either way, we're talking. So what's it going to be hmm?"