View Down The Scope Chapter 3: Nine Lives, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: CSI: Miami does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, as always. For b8kworm and SunMee. kdeb, you wacko; you spawned this thing, so you take some of the heat. Thanks for the read through. Marianne, what can I say? Oh, and kudos to whoever gets my reference in Spoiler(s).

Summary: He always considered this the still before the storm, before humanity's worst were to be found and judged, before the deliverance to bad news.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): H/C

Spoiler(s): I've renamed the two constellations to Kill Zone major and Body Count minor.

Responds to the Kill Zone challenge on the H/C mailing list: a one part H/C fic that in some way, shape or form, references Kill Zone.

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Title: View Down The Scope

Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Chapter 3: Nine Lives (Or Only Seven?)

The camera crews were having a field day, not only because Hagen was an officer, but because they assumed public outrage at the secrecy surrounding EMPAD. Yet, Calleigh could care less. What irked her was not that he kept his participation a secret, it was that he was nowhere around the scene. She wished she could have had at least a few words from him - encouragement, reproach, pride, anything.

Horatio was not twenty yards from her, and he saw her down the length of his scope. He missed Carla then, his partner in crime within EMPAD. Normally, she would have been beside him, ready with ammunition and with the other aspect of Horatio's job. The scope had the unusual feature of being attached to a camera, which had a better resolution than any typical security device.

If he wanted to, in the picture he could take of Calleigh right now, he could count each and every eyelash and the strands of her hair. Instead, he focused on his ammunition; Carla was not here now and he did not have the presence of mind to divide his concentration between taking the images and being ready to shoot.

Suddenly, Aaron was there. Before Horatio could do anything, he had an image of Calleigh stilled on the monitor. Horatio turned his head towards it when Aaron poked his shoulder.

"Just to remind you who you're supposed to keep safe."

Back looking down the length of the scope, he whispered his prayer and followed Calleigh as she nodded her understanding of her instructions and walked backed into the house. To Horatio though, it felt like he was running out of lives.

He died a little when he received news of his father's death. For a boy who idolized his father, he never exactly recovered.

He died a little more when he found his mother, lying in eternal rest. That shaped the rest of his life into an ongoing vendetta against the cold blooded killer.

He rebounded fairly quickly after the devastation the law called his marriage. It left its mark though; once bitten, twice shy. It was why he now watched Calleigh from the separation of a cold piece of metal.

Then, there was Ray, the ghost who still lived. He haunted Horatio, confused him between the dictates of duty and desire.

He died again when Al's funeral was imminent. He tried to think it was just another funeral, just an ordinary day in the life of Horatio Caine. Aaron knew only too well how far from truth that was.

Carla was next. One of Miami Dade's most talented, up-and-coming uniformed officers, she was her neighborhood's pride and joy. The epitome of hard work and dedication, she made a name for herself, and that was why EMPAD snatched her up. They gave her the chance to use the innate intellect unique to an engineer; she was the one who altered those tennis ball servers to take soda cans. She gave her life in the sole way she wanted - for her city; she was the first officer on the scene of a burning house. Courage and bravery were the basic tools she had, and she saved every person in that house only to suffer as her lungs collapsed from smoke inhalation.

And somewhere along the line, Horatio vowed to never let himself care. Ever again. Not even for Calleigh.

It did not work. With every step she took, he died again and again. He did not care if they say cats have nine lives; he had already used six and did not want to know what lay beyond this seventh. As far as he was concerned, there was no life beyond Calleigh.

He crossed that fine line between love and hate. He never hated Calleigh more for making him care, for being alive so he could fall in love with her.

Back in the world of the hostage situation, Aaron fiddled noiselessly with the audio until Hagen and Calleigh's voices flowed quietly as background noise. So far, everything was under control; Calleigh was, as her typical self, calm and in control. She executed a clean exchange, and the hostages were safe if not a little bruised along the edges.

Horatio knew that she was repeating to herself, over and over, "I'm not alone. I'm safe; they wouldn't leave me in here alone." He knew because he was saying the same thing.

Aaron watched the screen, seeing exactly what Horatio saw. They saw the face-off between the bulky man and Calleigh. Horatio clenched the rifle tighter, willing it to give Calleigh some of its strength.

He would have nightmares for months on what followed.

Hagen snapped; the pressure that spurred the initial situation and drove him to this point vacated him. All that was left was the insecurity of a formerly good detective. Hagen hoisted the rifle and aimed it right at Calleigh.

For ages, like a photograph, they stayed that way. Calleigh looked down the barrel of the rifle; Hagen held it to her heart. Horatio trained a deadly gaze on Hagen; Aaron communicated furiously through the walkie-talkie. SWAT crouched in their breach positions; EMPAD held their breaths. The public awaited Calleigh's exit from the house.

Horatio fingered the trigger gently. Brushed his finger back and forth over the curved metal, waiting for a signal from just about anybody. All the while, his body and soul burned to ashes.

It all ended as spontaneously as it began. Quick as a flash, Calleigh reached for the rifle, and SWAT poured into the house. She wrenched it from Hagen's waning grasp and had it aimed at Hagen's heart. Not a single bullet expended, not a single life lost; overall, a successful take down.

He continued to look through the scope. Hagen handcuffed and sputtering mad, the scope separated him from reality. He could almost believe that he was at home or at the lab still and watched everything from the safety of a television.

Without a word, he and Aaron packed up their gear, reemerged from their hideout, and stowed everything in the van. Aaron and his subordinate negotiator held an impromptu briefing with Calleigh in the surveillance van, while Horatio did his best to ignore the camera crews and the looks just shy of accusatory they cast toward the EMPAD van. When Aaron joined them at last, members of the EMPAD council were with him. The council allowed the group to melt into the night as unobtrusively as they had emerged, and the van followed SWAT and the negotiation team back to headquarters.