Author's Note: This story idea has been talking to me for a while, but lately it started scream so I wrote it down. I like to think that if the show had continued, they would have eventually addressed Horatio's hubris as it was becoming bigger than he. I hope you enjoy this.

The sun had long since set by the time she stripped her work clothes off and left them in a pile on the master bathroom floor. She had given up waiting for him to come home. This was the third night in a row that he had been late. They were used to varying work schedules, but tonight marked the first time she became suspicious of his whereabouts and activities. An anxiety rose is her that she had yet to experience with Horatio. She waited for the water temperature to adjust and stepped into the shower letting it cascade over her. Its healing powers might calm her. Her back to the faucet, the water pummeled her neck and shoulders. Then turning, she let it rain over her face.

Horatio entered the bathroom moments later. Jenna's heart skipped a beat. He undressed and entered the shower behind her. Her shoulders dipped and she relaxed into his touch. She pulled her hair around to the front so he could reach her neck. His fingers and lips trailed kisses downward and stopped at her shoulder. A bruise had begun to form. "What happened here?" he asked, caressing it and continuing to kiss.

Jenna took a moment to find her voice, lost in the sensations. "Domestic," she said.

He moved past it and continued lower. She turned her body to face him, pulling him up to her and devoured his mouth. As the steam rose around them, he maneuvered her against the cool tile wall, and positioned her wrists above her head. Her fingers stretched and flexed as he wasted no time fulfilling his needs.

Jenna exited the bathroom wearing sleep shorts and a t-shirt, comb running through her hair. Horatio had managed to get sweatpants on and sat in a club chair in the corner. She could not yet look at him but sensed his eyes on her. "There's food," she said.

"I'm fine." His voice was husky.

"Did you eat dinner?" she asked, still unsure what sort of answer she wanted. She tossed the comb aside and wrapped her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.

"I did." He wasn't offering up much. He kept watching her, knowing that she would eventually run out of nighttime rituals to perform and have to look at him. Tension smoldered off both of them and permeated the room

"Tough case you're working on?" She hated the words the moment they left her mouth. She knew there was no case. A trip to the crime lab when she finished work at five led her to Calleigh who told her they hadn't had a new case in days. Paperwork and tying up loose ends had filled the time. Horatio had already left work for the day. She was baiting him and the pit in her stomach told her it was wrong. Or perhaps that pit sat there in fear of his answer. When his response was slow in coming she added, "'Cause, you've never banged me against the shower wall before."

She looked up at him then and noticed his cheeks redden at her crassness. "I'm sorry," he said. "Did I hurt you?"

A soft laugh left her throat. "No, you didn't hurt me. Those were not exactly moans of pain you heard." He reached a hand out to her, but when she did not move towards him he lowered it. "So," she said, "the case?"

"I'm working on an old case," he said. "On my own." His inflection suggested that he may have spoken to Calleigh after she had, but she did not want to know.

She plowed forward with urgency needing all her concerns answered. "What case would that be?"

"Domestic. About fifteen years ago."

"What's her name?" Jenna asked.

Horatio blinked, finally aware of where this conversation was going. "The victim's name is Marjory Decker. I helped put her husband away for her attempted murder. Her murder He's up for parole. I'm trying to help her."

"How old is she?" A fifteen year old case meant she was likely a contemporary of Horatio's.

He tilted his head. "I'm unclear how that matters."

"Closer to my age or yours?" When his only response was a sign, she added, "What kind of help does she need, exactly?"

"Jenna . . ." he rose and walked towards her, stopping when she took a step back. "I'm helping a victim."

"Yeah, I've noticed you do a lot of that."

"I do. It's my job. Yours too. Why is it suddenly a problem?"

"Maybe because I would have liked to have had dinner with you these last three nights. Are you at least done helping her? Whatever that means."

"Jenna, I am not sleeping with her," Horatio said, wanting this conversation over. "She needs protection. We have reason to believe that her husband has people on the outside who want to prevent her testifying at his parole hearing next week. I'm providing protection until then."

"And there's no one else who can provide this protection? Horatio, that's not your job - "

"Protecting people is my job."

"You're a lieutenant. Put someone from parole on it and wish her good luck. That's all you have to do." She was begging. Begging him not to leave her. Begging him not to sleep with someone else, even though he told her he wasn't. Begging him to love her, and her familiar feelings of insecurity were what she had been trying to avoid. She thought that Horatio was different, so she would be different.

"You're overreacting," he said. Jenna's panic was palpable. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her that he loved her.

"You're prideful," she raised her voice, then moved to the dresser and searched for pants. "That will be your downfall, Horatio. You will end up alone forever if you don't get that in check. I can't compete with it."

Her words hit him and stung. He took a moment to get his bearings before he noticed her movement. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"I'll spend the night at my sister's," she said, looking for a bag.

"No." He stepped to her and reached for her arm, halting her movements. "That's not a good idea. You can't run out on me." She looked up at him and he placed both hands on her arms. His pleading eyes mirrored hers. "Stay here and let's work through this. We can't do that if you're at Abby's. That's what we agreed to when you moved in here." She closed her eyes and he lowered his head to rest on top of hers. "Please. Don't leave me."

AN: Please review!