A/N: Okay, I know I've been a bad bad fanfic author who did not update for two weeks. Shame on me. But this Real Life thing is not really working for me at the moment, and I couldn't give this fic the energy and time it demanded. I hope you're still with me and solemnly pledge my word that I won't leave this fic hanging in mid-story. But my general situation has not improved much, time-wise, and it's my birthday next week, so I guess it will be weekend again before you see the conclusion to this. Please accept my apologies.

To everyone who reviewed – THANK YOU (ß this is one damn heart-felt thank you, in case you didn't notice). Your reviews really cheered me up and urged me to write on. They also showed me I haven't gone completely astray with this story. So once again: thank you!

And do I even need to say this? CSI Miami is still not mine *breaks down sobbing*.

Chapter 8: Choices

Calleigh was having trouble concentrating. Of course she was exhausted, sleep-deprived even, and her uneasiness could be blamed on that – at least partly. But part of it was caused by a more complex source of distraction than simple fatigue.

It was not the first night she spent at CSI, but she couldn't help thinking that it was a completely different affair this time around.

Last time, John Hagen had insisted on watching over her, and she had not declined the offer for reasons she could not really fathom anymore. She had finished her work and finally fallen asleep on the couch in the break room, all the while under close scrutiny from the detective. It had been an awkward situation. There had been some attempts of conversation, but they had been fruitless to say the least. Calleigh had realized that something was building between her and John Hagen at the time, but had also been keenly aware of the fact that it would be nothing profound, nothing subtle and nothing with any deeper meaning. Nothing lasting either, for that matter.

This time, everything was different, down to that very last detail.

Horatio had simply accepted her plan to work all night and offered his company and help. And it was no comparison at all. John Hagen had lost the race by miles, and Horatio was not even competing.

They had retreated to the more comfortable surroundings of Horatio's office and were seated next to each other behind his desk. Both had a stack of paper in front of them, but staying focused on the work was getting harder by the second. Calleigh stifled a yawn for the third time in as many minutes. And it did not escape her notice how Horatio ran a shaky hand across his eyes. He had probably gotten even less sleep than she had in the past few days. A thought struck her. Maybe this was not the first night he spent working on this case.

Had he ever left the crime lab these days?

"Calleigh?" His voice stopped her musings. "Have a look at this."

"What is it?" She looked up to see him extending a folder to her. She reached out instinctively, but he did not let go of it. They ended up holding the file between them, leaning in closer towards each other, their shoulders and arms touching ever so slightly. Calleigh absorbed the facts quickly.

"A visitor's pass approval," she said, a hint of question in the statement.

"Hm-mh. A visitor's pass approval for one Gary Preston. And now…" Horatio elaborated, "…have a look at this." He pointed out a detail.

"He works at Tetra Office." Comprehension dawned on Calleigh. "Don't they process paper products?"

"Yes they do," Horatio confirmed, eyebrows raised, "They process and produce paper products, office supplies mainly, but also cellulose components for packaging material and – if I'm not mistaken – coffee filters."

Calleigh was wide awake in an instant. "And isn't acrylamide used as a strengthener in the paper-making process?"

Horatio nodded gravely. "Hm. Let's see what Preston was here for."

"You got the case number on this?" Calleigh wanted to know, already claiming the keyboard of Horatio's office computer. Horatio read out the combination of figures and letters and Calleigh punched in the numbers with new vigor. Horatio leaned in closer to read the appearing text over Calleigh's shoulder. She was keenly aware of him right next to her, but the case description demanded full emotional concentration for the time being. She gave a short outline while she was perusing the data.

"It's a closed case. Night shift worked it. Serial rape-murder. Gary is listed as a relative of one of the victims, Clara Preston."

Horatio read along with Calleigh. "Clara was his sister and the third of four victims. So that gives us …"

"A motive," Calleigh concluded. "Or at least a link. Not to mention…"

"…means and opportunity," Horatio finished for her. They looked at each other for a moment, silently pondering this latest development.

Finally, Calleigh suggested, "I get Tripp, you get a warrant?"

Horatio shook his head. "We don't have enough for a warrant. Preston was here on the night of the crime, but so were dozens of other people. And his workplace is not conclusive enough in itself. Let's bring him in first, see what he can tell us."

"I get Tripp, you get coffee?" Calleigh tried again.

The ghost of a smirk appeared on Horatio's face for a split second and Calleigh wondered if he, too, was recalling a former occasion when they had been working late and he had brought her coffee. "How about this," he was just saying, "You get Tripp, I get the Hummer."

"Are we going to accompany him to our suspect?"

Horatio hesitated briefly. Then he got up and began heading for the door, carefully avoiding eye-contact again. "Not exactly."

 "Then where are we going?"

He didn't turn around to answer, as if he were really addressing the door instead of her. "Just trust me on this."

~*~

The warm water pouring down on her was sheer bliss. Calleigh stretched her tired limbs and enjoyed the sensation of soothing liquid on her skin. It was amazing how much a simple shower could do to restore her energy.

She had been reluctant at first. Unwilling to intrude on anything. Not quite prepared to topple the precarious balance they had established.

Then again, the offer had been too tempting to try and resist.

She had called Tripp and filled him in on the latest news. The detective had instantly been awake and alert and had promised to bring Preston in for interrogation first thing in the morning. After the phone call, Calleigh had realized there was nothing left to do for the two of them for another couple of hours. Horatio had planned ahead, though, it seemed.

"We still have some time before the action starts," he had observed, "Can I tempt you with a scrumptious breakfast?"

She had beamed at him, and that had been answer enough.

"We can go to my place, that's closer than yours." He had been talking just a little too quickly, as if he was afraid of a negative answer. "I happen to make a mean breakfast and my coffee maker sure beats Speed's."

She had not answered right away. She had never been to his place, and it seemed like a huge offer suddenly. In the end, she had gotten her supply of spare clothes from the locker room and followed him to the Hummer.

And now she was in his bathroom, his shower even, while he was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. "Feel free to use everything you need," he had told her. "Remember, I would know if you didn't – it's my job."

The comment made her smile in retrospect. She turned off the water and grabbed the thick white towel Horatio had put there for her. She changed into her clothes and draped her damp hair over her shoulders. Digging through her boss's cupboards for a hair-dryer was hardly an option. Sneaking through his personal belongings was even further out of the question, especially considering his line of work. But there was one thing she could not have resisted for the life of her.

Without even thinking much about it, Calleigh reached for a small bottle on the shelf beneath the mirror. Uncapping the flask, she inhaled the now familiar scent of Horatio's aftershave. She could not even have counted the number of different emotions that ran through her at the fragrance, and she felt overwhelmed. Suddenly, everything seemed surreal. The case, the sleepless night and the dangerous path she was treading with Horatio mingled to one great bundle of emotional turmoil.

Until two days ago – three by now, to be precise – she had strictly admired Horatio from afar, telling herself that whatever connection she felt between them might be one-sided. She had been forever unsure about whether she was the only one to be captivated by an ineffable attraction between them. Captivated by him, to be completely honest. She loved his righteousness, his protectiveness, the way he always put everybody else first. She loved his shrewd mind and his rare smiles, she loved the way he moved and the way he looked at her when no one else was present. In Horatio's light, even John Hagen had been able to shine for a few illusion-driven moments.

And Horatio had been forever hard to read. He had shown her signs of affection and caring more often than not, but had never pushed the invisible barriers between them aside – not even playfully. And Calleigh had not dared to risk what they had for something they might not be meant to share. At least not until she had a clearer idea about his feelings for her.

She had gotten her answer over the course of these past few days. Or had she?

More confused, but physically restored she left the bathroom and found her way back to the living room. Horatio was standing at the counter to the adjoined kitchen and gave her one of his special smiles. He had changed into a dark blue shirt which brought out the color of his eyes. The tips of his hair were still damp, as were hers, and some strands refused to stay in place, giving him a slightly tousled look she found absolutely delectable.

"Feeling better?"

"Almost human again," she answered truthfully. "Can I help you?"

"No, it's all taken care of." He beckoned her to sit down.

Calleigh seated herself at the carefully laid table and took in her surroundings. Through the big windows to her left she could see the ocean rolling on in the first rays of sunlight. The view was breathtaking.

Horatio appeared at her side and – with a grand gesture – placed a plate of various sliced fruits in front of her.

"Oh my gosh." Calleigh was impressed. "Is this your standard pep breakfast for loyal coworkers?"

"Only for those who sacrifice their sleep to crack a case."

"I really hope we did." Calleigh said, helping herself to some toast. "I couldn't stand to think it was one of us."

Horatio did not answer, but she had obviously hit a nerve. Before his mood had time to darken again, she changed topics. "You have a beautiful place here. The view is adorable."

"It sure is today," Horatio answered, never once taking his eyes off her.

~*~

When Horatio and Calleigh checked back in to CSI, the rest of the team had already arrived. Tripp had brought Preston in and had informed the team about their suspect.

"When did you say Calleigh called you?" Speed asked for the third time.

Frank Tripp shrugged. "Almost five this morning. Woke me up. I was just in time to get our guy on his way to work."

"And she was calling from headquarters?" Speed didn't let go. "What was she doing, working at five in the morning?"

"I don't know," Tripp told him, "Just told me she and Horatio had new info on our suspect and chased me off to get the guy."

"So she was with H? Then where are they now?" Eric wanted to know.

"Beats me," Speed admitted. "Probably gone cracking the case without us," he moped.

"What, you're not getting enough of the limelight?" Eric teased.

"Hey, I'm just wondering what's going on with those two. They're my friends. I have a right to be concerned."

"I think nosy is the word you were looking for."

"You can ask them in a minute, guys, they just arrived," Alexx informed them with a glance through the glass door.
If anyone on the team found it strange that Calleigh and Horatio arrived together they didn't show it. They did voice their curiosity about the progress on the case, though. Horatio filled them in with a few quick words.

"Now here's what I want you to do. Speed, compare the coffee filter we found to the brands Tetra Office produces. Eric, see if the acrylamide they use matches the chemical signature of the trace evidence you processed. We don't have a warrant, so ask them nicely for a sample. And we…" he looked at Calleigh and Tripp, "… I believe we have a suspect to interview."

~*~

Gary Preston was in his mid-fifties, slightly on the small side and obviously terrified by the fact that he was being interrogated.

Tripp was standing behind him, Calleigh was positioned slightly off-center to his right and one very short-tempered Horatio paced the floor directly in front of him. Preston clutched the corner of the table with trembling hands.

Horatio was in no mood for playing nice. Faced with the alleged perpetrator in one of the most personal, most emotionally demanding cases of his career, he had some difficulty controlling his usually even temper. His anger was welling beneath the surface of his composure, and he was speaking through gritted teeth. The polite questions were delivered with biting sharpness.

"What exactly is your job at Tetra Office, Mr. Preston?"

"I supervise logistics and transport."

"You supervise logistics and transport. Tell me, do you have access to the main processing plant?" Horatio demanded.

"Yes, of course."

"The storage rooms and warehouses?" Tripp stipulated.

"Well, yes, but…"

Horatio didn't give him time to specify his answer. "Were you here at CSI on the night of the 10th?"

"Yes, but…"

"What did you want?"

Preston ran an unsteady hand through his hair. His eyes took on a watery sheen. His voice sounded hollow. "My sister …" He never finished the sentence.

"We know about your sister," Calleigh informed him. "But her case was closed a week ago. You were no longer a witness. You had no reason to be here."

"I asked … for an appointment. I wanted … to thank them for finding out who did that to Clara…"

"Wrong," Horatio interrupted him. "You wanted to take out your anger on them. See, I just called the officer who worked your case and he told me …" Horatio inched closer to the suspect, "He told me that you were accusing them, that you were blaming Clara's death on CSI. Now, do you want to try again?"

Something in Preston's features shifted, and his insecurity gave way to hatred in the span of time it took him to breathe. He stood up and came around the table towards Horatio. Tripp sprang to action the same instant, ready to hold him back. He was not needed, however. Horatio raised his chin and stopped Preston with one steely look. Watching the stand-off, Calleigh felt every fiber in her body stiffen.

"Do you know what it's like, losing someone you love?" Preston challenged. If possible, Horatio's icy look grew more lethal. Preston ranted right on. "Her death was unnecessary. The guy who did that to her, that scum – he did it before. If you hadn't taken forever analyzing the samples or whatever it is you do, you could have nailed him before he got to Clara."

"So you decided to poison the entire CSI staff," Horatio concluded coldly.

"No. I would never want someone to die."

"But someone did."

"I didn't know." Preston's shoulders slumped. "I knew that stuff was toxic. They gave me all these safety instructions when I started on the job but … I … I thought it'd cause nausea, give them a headache. I never thought it'd cause serious harm."

"You never thought it would cause serious harm. You spiked a prepared coffee filter with a neurotoxin, a substance that causes severe brain damage and loss of sensory control and you never thought it would cause serious harm." Horatio recounted, anger lacing every word.

Provoked by his tone, Preston charged once more. "So what if I did? They deserved it. They didn't do their job. I'm glad they got what they deserved."

"They did their job. These things take time." Tripp told him heatedly.

Calleigh felt her own temper rise. With uncharacteristic ferocity she asked, "The man who died had nothing to do with Clara's case, but he had to bear the brunt of your anger. Do you think he got what he deserved? Did you know that he leaves a young wife and a little child? What about them? Did they get what they deserved?"

Preston instantly focused his attention on her. "What would you know of my anger? What would you know about the anger of someone who's lost their sister?"

Horatio stepped in, blocking Calleigh from Preston's view. "I know the anger of someone who's lost a brother. And let me tell you something. There are two choices for angry people. But only one of them wears a badge." He nodded to Tripp. "Take him away."

As soon as Tripp had led Preston from the room, Calleigh turned to Horatio. His teeth were still gritted, his posture still taut. His hands were clenched into fists. Calleigh tentatively reached out and squeezed his arm. She could feel him trembling under her touch.

"Horatio?"

It seemed to cost him the strength of a lifetime to turn his head and look at her.

"It's over now," she told him. "We got him. You got him."

He nodded slowly, as if his body was refusing to acknowledge what his mind had already registered. Calleigh tried to read the variety of emotions in his eyes. He was angry beyond words, but also relieved that the perp had not come from their ranks. And there was also something else in his eyes she couldn't quite identify. He regarded her intensely, as if he was trying to figure something out about her.

Then, in slow motion, he reached out for her and drew her close. His embrace was tight, as if he had to reassure himself that she was real and unharmed. He buried his face in her hair and ran a shaky hand across her back. Calleigh was too surprised to say anything, and they simply stood like that in silence for a while, Horatio hanging on to her for dear life.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hardly audible. "If he had gotten to you … I would have killed him."

Calleigh broke the embrace and held him at arm's length. "But he didn't. I'm right here, Horatio."

He nodded, but did not answer. Instead, he took her face in both hands. Pulling her to him, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "Yes, you are," he simply said, then turned around and left the room.

Calleigh stayed back, completely at a loss for words.

It was her turn to start trembling.

To be continued…