Horatio Caine was awakened by his girlfriend shoving his shoulder, mumbling 'phone', and taking the majority of the comforter he had covered himself with. He groaned, suddenly chilled, and reached for the phone. "Caine."
"Horatio, you've got to get down here. It's insane. Calleigh's out with Alex at some mall, Natalia's gone down to a shopping center, and Ryan is coming with me to an assault over at a Wal-mart. If you don't get in, Valera's gonna be the only one here." Eric's voice was harsh, his words coming fast. Horatio puled his phone away for a second and glanced at the clock. Just past seven and things were already going to hell.
"I'll be there in thirty, Eric. Hold down everything until then." Horatio ordered, then hung up. He yawned, scraping the sleep from his eyes. Ah, Black Friday. The Bane of Law Enforcement. He walked to the bathroom, splashed warm water onto his face, then quickly changed into a fresh shirt and jacket. He drew on a pair of socks, then carried his shoes in his hands. Socked feet padded quietly over plush carpet, going closer to the bed. Laila had apparently fallen asleep, again. He smirked, enjoying the peacefulness on her face. He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and then softly stepped out. He stopped at the entry table to fasten his gun and badge onto his side, grabbed the Hummer keys, and left.
The drive to the police headquarters in Doral was relatively quick, the majority of cars being parked at malls, shopping centers, boutiques or hidden away in garages and carports while their owners slept away the terror that was Black Friday. His Hummer passed older cars, their drivers often the retirees that Florida was so often associated with. He approached the complex, flashing his badge to the gate guard to identify himself. He pulled forward, then parked the Hummer against the curb of the roundabout.
"H, welcome to the party." Eric said, looking up when Horatio stepped off of the elevator. Ryan was pacing, and stopped sharply when he saw Horatio.
"Delko, I don't think it's a party if people wind up getting hurt." Wolfe retorted, stepping up to the elder CSI.
"You haven't been to many parties, Ryan." Eric retorted, walking towards the elevator. "The funnest ones always end with a black eye."
"Gentlemen." Horatio's voice was quiet, but it carried an authority that both men instantly responded to. They stopped and faced their Lieutenant. "Be careful out there. People aren't as careful as they should be."
"Don't worry, H. We're fine." Eric laughed, stepping into the elevator with Wolfe behind him. Horatio watched the doors close with a slight twinge. He knew that the media blew stories out of proportion, but this day did cause him some worry. He'd heard of trampling, stampeding crowds the didn't care if there was a person in front of them. Stabbings, shootings, physical altercations. He didn't want his team getting hurt.
"Hey there Horatio." Valera called from the DNA lab. "Looks like you and I get to have all the fun today." Horatio smirked as he stepped into the lab. The glass walls did give the place an open feeling, but after Natalia's accident with the glass table, he had brought in a slate topped lab table. No way the centrifuge would shatter that. Valera gestured to a file nearby. "Fingerprints dropped that off. Night shift said you put a rush order for it."
"Thank you, Maxine." Horatio said, lifting the file. It contained pictures of the receipt, credit card, and shot glass. There was also a photo of the partials from the VIP pass he had taken from Vitonio. The fingerprints were easiy visible, latents that had been fumed with superglue. The glue had stuck to the oil in the print, leaving behind a perfect impression. The process took a few hours, hence why he had to leave it to night shift. He hated to leave his cases to the night shift, but sometimes things had to be rushed. Behind the photos was a printout of a ten card, all the prints from the VIP pass and the other items lined up. The top, where a name would usually be, instead read 'Unknown Male'. Beneath that, in bold type, were the words 'Positive Match'.
He smiled, that was just what he wanted. He walked to his office, gently setting the file on his desk. He tented his fingers, then leaned back and thought. Richard had given the card to Vitonio, to entice a sale for the stolen horse. He had received $20,000 in cash, and had been spotted approaching a cocaine dealer. He remembered the massive amount of cash in the bag the dealer had, alongside the massive amount of coke. He reached for his desk phone, quickly dialing for a department.
"Questionable Documents." A pleasant voice said.
"It's Horatio, how much was in that bag that was brought in last night? The one with the cocaine." He asked.
"Let's see. Bag was brought in with a Clay Dixon. Had exactly, hmm, let's see. Twenty-three thousand, four hundred dollars. Anything else?"
"No, thank you." He set the phone back in its cradle. A slow smile spread across his face. It was time for the part of the job that he hated. Oh, how he despised those lawyers, scuttling around, sniffing for anything whenever a cop came to get a warrant. Then the lawyers would run to the media, yapping about all the supposed scandals that floated around his lab. Half the time, once he had gotten a warrant from a judge for a high-profile suspect, it was on the news at six. He sighed, looking over at the clock. He'd have to leave the lab, running across the complex to the small courthouse. That meant turning his lab over to Valera or one of the other analysts. For fifteen minutes though, he could handle that.
Horatio stood up, smoothed his jacket, and girded himself for going into the lion's den.
Laila shifted herself around, enjoying the slow burn that came with stretching muscles. Sheri, her usual brunette hair dyed a fierce red, mirrored her movement. Laila noted how her legs had tangled themselves together. It was only a matter of time. The other people in their yoga class were all struggling with the move, a move that involved twisting your back and stretching an arm over your head.
"Envision reaching for the stars! The heavens!" Their instructor called out from his mat. Laila pictured the night sky above her, her fingers just grasping the cool surface of Orion's belt. It was peaceful, quiet, serene. That illusion was shattered when Sheri fell with an 'oomph' onto her mat.
Laila stifled a chuckle. "You okay over there?"
"Shut up." Sheri growled, resuming her attempt to contort her body into the pose. This time Laila couldn't hold in her laughter, she began to giggle. Her instructor looked over, his brows furrowing at her laughter. She quieted, deciding that she would give Sheri plenty when they went out to lunch. Her friend's blue eyes cut over, and Sheri gave a self-satisfied smirk.
"It's not my fault you can't do this."
"And it's not my fault you stretch like a Russian contortionist." Sheri snapped back. The instructor looked up again, but shook his head instead of coming over. He assumed a lotus position, and instructed everyone to meditate for fifteen minutes. Laila brought her feet underneath her and closed her eyes. She tried to free her mind from everything, the events from two nights ago that still haunted her. Laila had tried to fight it, to deny that it had scared her, but she still felt frightened.
She was falling, falling through the night sky. Royal blue, midnight blue, indigo and violet. The only thing that broke the blue was the soft light of the moon, a breath that whispered over her skin and lit her hair, and the small flashes of starlight, winking, gentle, that enticed her closer. She wasn't falling anymore, it was like she was floating. Floating among the stars, both above and below her as the moon watched. The only thing that moved her was a current, some current that flowed through the heavens where she was lingering. Ah, this little plane she had brought herself to was detached from everything, all her worries.
"Now, come back. Breathe the world in, exhale your worries. Breathe everything in, exhale everything holding you down." The instructor's voice drew her out, and she opened her eyes. She regretted that decision instantly, the harsh fluorescent lighting far different from the cool night she had been in. She blinked a few times, shook her head, and stretched her arms. Sheri actually appeared to be dozing. Laila leaned over and lightly punched her arm. Sheri cracked an eye at her, then snorted.
"How about lunch?" Laila asked as they walked out. She and Sheri were both wearing the tank tops that they favored for yoga, and were standing in the women's locker room, fixing their hair.
"Let's go to that bistro, the one just down the street."
"We go there every time."
"So?" Sheri laughed. Laila shrugged, and followed her out. With their gym bags slung over their shoulders, they walked outside. A light breeze was blowing through Miami, a little cool down from their typically temperate fall. They sat down in the patio of the bistro, and quickly out in an order for some tea and a couple of salads. Sheri fluffed out her bobbed hair and leaned back. "So, who's this guy you're with?"
"Tactful." Laila grunted. She took a sip of tea before replying. "His name's Horatio Caine."
"Isn't he that cop that's always on the news?"
"Yes, he does find himself there, on occasion." Laila sighed. Horatio was dedicated to his cases, and although she knew he despised the media, that dedication sometimes required him to ask for the public's help. That asking usually came through an interview or press conference.
"He was the one at the office that day, right?" Sheri didn't need to say what 'that day' was. They both knew, and neither wanted to speak of it.
"Yeah, he was."
"He was really nice that day. Oh, is that one guy single? The kind of Cuban looking guy?" Sheri asked, her eyebrows going up. "He was really cute."
"I'm not even going to answer that."
"Oh come on, just a friend of a friend thing."
"Well, if we're talking boyfriends, what about you and Chris? You still together?" Laila tried to change the subject, nodding to the waiter as he dropped off their salads. She could see Sheri wrinkle her nose, as if she had smelled something bad.
"Please, I left him a week ago. He was so clingy." Sheri snapped a grape tomato up, and smirked. "Quit evading. I know you let him move in. He answered the phone when I called you once."
"Alright, alright." Laila held up her hands, surrendering. "We met years ago. Then he left for New York, and I didn't see him again until a few months ago. The rest is history." She smiled, and gulped down some tea.
Sheri leaned her head on her hand. "And, when can I meet him? Is he coming to opening night?"
"I'm working on that." Laila sighed. "He's not the clubbing type." Sheri laughed, and quickly drew the attention of some of the other patrons. Laila flicked a piece of lettuce at her to shut her up. Sheri shot her a look, but quieted down. They discussed other subjects, the upcoming Christmas season and all the advertising that it entailed. When they were done, Laila bid her friend goodbye, promising to see her later this week and at the opening of The Speak.
"You had better get him to come." Sheri said, releasing her from her hug. "I have to meet him."
"Listen, Lieutenant Caine I'm telling you the same thing I've told everyone who wanted to see Judge Mathers. He's on personal leave, just for the weekend, in Key Largo. I can't issue any warrants for you until the Judge returns." Debbie, a secretary, told him.
"Ms. Carough, you know I can't go to anyone else." Horatio sighed. There were only a few judges that kept their offices in the complex, and Mathers was always willing to sign off on his warrants. The two other judges regarding him skeptically, often stonewalling him when he tried to go after some evidence.
"Caine, I can get it done Monday. For now, work on something else. I know your team got called out for about five different cases. Work on them, interrogate some witness, just put this one out of your mind until Monday." Debbie set the folders she was carrying down with a huff. Her desk phone began to ring and she answered it angrily, completely shutting Horatio out. He sighed and brought a hand up to rub his temple. He reached into his pocket, withdrew his cell phone and walked back to his lab.
"Hey, Frank pull those two club hoppers out of the drunk tank and into an interview room." He asked over the phone. Frank responded affirmatively, and they were waiting for Horatio when he stepped in. Frank met him outside.
"Horatio, shouldn't we be interrogating Dixon instead of these two?" Frank asked, scuffing his shoe along the tile.
"We can hold Dixon for awhile Frank, we've got him for dealing. These two, we don't have these two in on any other charges aside from drunk and disorderly."
"She's not pressing charges?"
"Truth be told, Frank, I haven't asked." Horatio shrugged.
"No better time than the present." Frank mused, and Horatio found himself dialing his phone again. It rang for a few seconds before Laila answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey Laila, I've got a quick question for you. And I need an answer now." Horatio spoke quietly. "Do you want to press charges against the guys from the other night?"
"Hmm," Laila went quiet for a few minutes. "Horatio, I know this is going to sound odd, but I don't. I mean, they didn't get to spend Thanksgiving with their families, and frankly, that almost a punishment in and of itself. Plus, I really don't want to get involved in some legal battle."
"Are you sure? They did hurt you, remember?"
"Horatio, sweet vengeful Horatio, I know. Let's just say I'm in a forgiving mood or something. I'll, I'll try to explain later." Horatio had to smirk at her wording. "Listen, I've got to go. I'll see you tonight."
"Alright." Horatio sighed. "I'll see you later." He hung up, then shook his head when Frank asked him about the charges. "She doesn't want to charge them."
"She does realize that one of them almost killed her, right?" Frank had a dumbfounded look on his face. Horatio nodded, but walked past him into the room. An officer stood in the corner, overseeing the two of them. He glanced at the two men, who had obviously sobered up from the last time he saw them. They both looked rather frightened. Horatio pulled out his sunglasses, fidgeting with them.
"Listen, Mr. officer, sir, please don't lock us up." One said, Horatio believed it was Charlie. "We-we were just wasted. We didn't mean to do anything."
"Yeah, we just got a little out of control." Gyp replied. Horatio raised a single eyebrow.
"Out of control? You assaulted a woman, tried to kill her." Horatio didn't let any emotion into his voice, and he glared at the two of them. "You two could very well get a sentence upwards of fifteen years."
"Please," Charlie sobbed. "I don't want to go to jail." Gyp didn't even respond, just looking at his cuffed hands. Horatio had seen many men go like that, silent, staring off at something. It was when they had lost all hope, that they knew what was going to happen. Horatio ground his teeth, wishing that he could give them exactly what they deserved. He wanted to grab Gyp by the collar of his over-priced T-shirt, throw him up against the wall, and show him that he should never have gone after Laila. He wanted them to learn that you never abused a woman around Horatio Caine. Why did she not want to press charges? They deserve it, they deserve everything that the justice system can throw at them.
"You won't be." He spat out. "The woman you attacked has decided not to press charges." Horatio growled. He spread his arms on the table though, and shoved his face right into theirs. "But if I ever see you around her, or going after any other woman, I will see that you are put away. Put away and never allowed out." Horatio looked up at the officer. "Get them out of here." The officer nodded, jerking them to their feet. Horatio stepped outside, sighing.
"Horatio. Should we bring Dixon in?" Frank asked, walking up. Horatio furrowed his brow, unsure of how to respond. Dixon wasn't going anywhere. He had already been charged with possession, distributing, and would not be going anywhere.
"Let him sit Frank." Horatio ordered. "He can stew over the weekend, and we'll see what he gives us Monday."
"Any specific reason for that?"
"The second it's recorded that he dealt and Richard Gibson was involved I'm getting a warrant and heading to Gibson's house." Horatio left Frank, instead taking Debbie's advice and working on the cases his team was bringing in. They were enough to keep him occupied for the rest of the day, until he and his exhausted team could go home. He drove home and walked in. Laila was sitting on the couch, her laptop in front of her. She had spread a blanket over her shoulders, and seemed to be very focused on what she was doing. He walked up behind her, finding her computer open to an internet page advertising The Speak and an instant messaging window to the side.
"Hey Horatio." She muttered, quickly typing out a reply to the message she had just recieved.
"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning his head against hers.
"Working, I'm trying to get this reporter to come down next week. I want her to do an interview, a whole piece on the club."
"Who exactly?"
"Erica Sykes, this lady from CBS." She said, replying again. "Perfect! She's ready, willing, and able." Horatio wrinkled his nose, pursing his lips.
"Be careful around her. She can twist anything the way she wants it." Horatio warned, turning to pull his gun and badge off. When he turned back around, Laila had closed her laptop and had perched her chin on her knees.
"Why?"
Laila didn't need any clarification on exactly what 'why' meant. But how could she explain it? How could she put into words exactly what had been running through her mind this afternoon? That she was worried for him, that she didn't want to spend this month's rent on legal fees? That she didn't want his job to be put into jeopardy if it came out what she had been doing for him? She took a deep breath and tried.
"I just want it to be over. I don't want them being any part of us." She could feel herself beginning to cry. "I don't want to remember that night. I don't want to remember that feeling when he grabbed me, the helplessness. I just want to block it out." Now there were tears, and she could feel Horatio lower himself onto the couch by her. "And I know it's stupid, and I know you came, but I don't want to, never ever again." She could feel Horatio's arm come around her shoulders, bringing her face to his chest. He smoothed her hair, shushing her as he held her.
"It's alright. I can understand that." He murmured, and Laila just let it out of her, all the stress that she had tried to lose in yoga. The majority of it had vanished, but there was still some little seed that had decided to come out at this moment. She knew it was healthy to get it out, that she shouldn't have held it in over Thanksgiving, and that now all she wanted was Horatio and the comfort that he provided.
He was more than willing, and she knew that he would hold her throughout the night, if need be.
AN: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I'll be posting a quick Christmas story soon, and for reference it takes place just after Repairing the Present. Don't worry though, this story isn't done yet!