Everything Comes In Threes Chapter 3: Ten Seconds, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully, by now, everybody knows CSI: Miami does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I realized only as I read the reviews that I had written View Down The Scope as it was conceived - part of a longer story - which I truncated into the Kill Zone Challenge. So, the bet that teased people was to be explained in the following two, non-existent chapters. Honestly, I did not realize I had done that; my betas certainly did not tell me; I have an itching suspicious they purposely did not. :- I can hear people saying, "Well, duh! Why would we?" Okay, this is a Miami story so here are the people who make things worthwhile: kdeb, Marianne, b8kworm, and Mr. Hathaway. I especially would love to thank kdeb for everything - hand holding, brainstorming, keeping me awake, etc. Oh, and I love my betas.

Summary: But when Pygmalion fell in love with his creation, Aphrodite had to turn the statue into a woman, flesh and blood, to make him happy.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh.

Spoiler(s): Body Count, The Oath.

The sequel to View Down The Scope.

..... ..... .....

Title: Everything Comes In Threes
Author: Laeta

Chapter 3: Ten Seconds

How Calleigh did it, Horatio never would know but the instant he handed the rifle to Calleigh, the mood lightened. The afternoon sun somehow shone brighter; the heaviness inherent to humidity became considerably less oppressive; and her laughter sounded more musical than the most soul rousing aria.

She had missed the first target flying from the machine and had scolded herself jovially for it. The second one she had not a chance of hitting. With the third, she was considerably closer; her smile stole the breath from his body when she finally found the sixth target.

Goal accomplished, a cloud passed between the sun and where they lay; the sudden chill pricked the back of Horatio's neck. Instinct told him something had happened.

Ever attuned to his changing moods, Calleigh quietly began to walk back to the warehouse. Horatio followed more slowly, lost in thought, as he made an effort to cherish the memory of the afternoon. Somehow, he knew the idyll would never occur again - ever again. The knowledge humbled him even as he hated the injustice of it.

.....

Raised voices and heated words carried over the distance that remained between the training center and the couple who walked towards it. Through open windows and above the garbled radio broadcasts, Horatio caught a few phrases: prison break; previous attempt; go after her again; something we can do; do not tell Horatio. And there was one word - a name, really - that broke the camel's back.

Kerner.

Calleigh turned to Horatio the moment she heard that vile name and watched as he struggled to act indifferent. She swore she could read his mind, know the thoughts he told himself.

He was just another escaped convict.

It was just an ordinary - typical - prison break.

I have lived through dozens of them; so has Calleigh.

Never mind that Kerner was hell bent on Calleigh's death; never mind that he blamed her for his incarceration. Of course, the fact that Calleigh had apprehended him the first - and the second - time he escaped did not factor at all.

Like the best of fools, the only person fooled was himself.

.....

They tried so hard for nonchalance Horatio mentally applauded. Smiles broke over worried faces like water rapids; the silence numbed his ears.

He had to smile, however, when his teammates abandoned their efforts for genuine grins and congratulations the moment they realized Calleigh carried his rifle. Money exchanged hands amidst good-natured groans and heart-felt teasing. There was the usual boasting, until he joined the fun and queried after a percentage of the winnings.

Fun and games over, Aaron elected himself and took Horatio aside to brief him on the Kerner situation. He could see EMPAD beyond the open door, their faces returned to worry. He watched only Calleigh as she assimilated the situation.

In twenty-four hours, she had so much of life's bad side inflicted upon her. It was not fair for anybody, but somehow, Aaron knew she was capable of handling so much more. He was far more worried about Horatio.

Later, there was something in the pensive, meditative way Horatio unassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his rifle. Wondering whether it was better to break the thought process or to remain supportive whatever the case, Aaron held back, contemplating the methodical way his friend examined his rifle case and the equipment within it.

.....

Calleigh found Horatio hours later, as it turned twilight. He perched on a windowsill and trained his gaze on something outside his window. Arms were folded and he was absolutely still.

It was this last thing that worried her. While Horatio possessed an incredible economy to his movements, for him to be completely object-like was problematic. In her experience, it usually meant he was about to cause some form of regret.

They went from a heated conversation to waiting in the night with each other and coffee for company.

Sipping her drink gave her an activity so she would not have to dwell on the photos of Kerner's prison cell. During the car ride to wherever here was, she had received and had studied them as dispassionately as she could. It took effort since he had turned his bunk into a shrine of hatred - directed to her.

Her coffee also distracted her from replaying her brief conversation with Horatio. As of now, she did not know what he had planned but his request had ruffled more than a few feathers. And rather than ask, she had responded with contempt:

"I refuse to change the way I live my life, Horatio!"
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to trust me."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to end this once and for all; I'm going to kill him."

Calleigh glanced to where Horatio sat upon crates. He stared into the darkness surrounding them, his face like stone where the moonlight reached him. She knew instinctively that a wall existed between the man with her and the man she fell asleep with last night.

The night cooled and so did his demeanor. Now she finally understood the phrase "cold-blooded killer". Before the dawn came, Calleigh would see just how ruthless Horatio could be when provoked - when angered, when afraid. It would be a testament to having him as a lover; could she accept this?

Aaron, by now, probably had released Horatio's statement, his reaction to the news of Kerner's escape. He had requested a shoot-on-sight command for Kerner, who was armed and dangerous; the press remained mum as Kerner's list of past convictions was released.

In the statement, Horatio also had included a thinly veiled threat to bait Kerner into a confrontation.

As a result, the third time Calleigh saw Kerner was also the third time she saw Horatio with a rifle. It was also the third time in Horatio's life that he was confronted by a loved one's past. At least this night, he could erase it forever.

.....

Cocky and arrogant to boot, Kerner strolled into the warehouse. He found them seated side-by-side, a king and his queen in their elevated positions. Up the stairs, he approached them, gun held ready, confident in his ability to escape.

"Detective, pleasure. Lieutenant, nice to finally see you again. I heard I just missed you last time." Kerner smiled broadly, tasting complete freedom scant seconds away.

"Can it, Kerner." Voice no longer its normal smoothness, nobody recognized the hoarse grating as Horatio.

Kerner spread his arms wide, sneering. "Relax, Lieutenant. I'm not going to spoil this reunion so soon."

Horatio stood. "This is how this reunion is going to play out. My gun is in this case." He pushed the closed kit with his foot. "You get immunity if you can run faster than I can shoot you."

Immediate suspicion unsurprisingly rose within the escaped convict. "Why?"

"Simple as I've had enough of you."

Kerner grinned; he loved being the villain.

"You got yourself a deal, Lieutenant. I'll be sure to send you a postcard from paradise. But, I want her."

Calleigh could not retort; she felt like a statue, watching her life unfold without any input about her wants and desires.

Horatio did not move to stand between her and Kerner. Instead, he merely said, "No. You get a ten second head start before I start to shoot." He paused. "You better start running."

The smartest move Kerner ever made in his life was to turn tail and jump from the second story landing. Too bad it was his only and last.

As Kerner started his flight to freedom, Horatio said to Calleigh, "Keep an eye on him."

She obeyed and watched both men, still in that stagnant mode.

Two seconds, Horatio kneeled and had his case open.
Four seconds, rifle was assembled and ready.
Six seconds, he attached a night scope.
Eight seconds, he glanced at Calleigh and followed where she pointed.
Ten seconds, Kerner lay dead in a doorway, his hand sliding down from where, in life, it grasped a doorknob.