Title: Revenge

Author: Nat

Summary: Revenge is Sweet.

Disclaimer: Apparently being Jerry Bruckhimer's wife's cousin's son's teacher's Aunt's penpal's dentist's dog walkers's paper boy's mate's long lost half sister, doesn't mean I own them... who would have thought!?

Rating: PG - 13

Pairing: Horatio/Calleigh, as if my muse would allow anything else.

Spoilers: Kill Zone

A/N: Sequel to "Figures", but its not overly important that you read it…

Thanks: To Nath, for being such a kick ass Beta, many thanks to you chicky.

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"Have you ever considered a transfer to SWAT?"

"I don't look good in all black."

"I beg to differ."

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After nearly having a complete meltdown yesterday, over my cheeky retort to a certain 6 ft. redhead lieutenant about rifles and hot flashes, I was lead to another full-blown fantasy in surround sound and graphic detail. I swear I could taste him, feel him… His lips pressed against mine in a mind-blowing kiss that stopped all conscious thoughts from being processed and made thinking just too hard… It made breathing hard because I had to think about how to breathe!

My alarm clock woke me from my hottest dream yet involving one Horatio Caine. My body drenched with sweat, my breathing erratic and my heart thumping so hard in my chest; I though it might burst through it and land in my lap. It was time to face another day with that damn fine specimen of a man.

On shaky legs, I drag myself from bed into the bathroom. Stripping from my sweat soaked clothes, I turn on the shower and step into the inviting spray. The cool water feels good on my flustered body; I can already feel it washing away the heat that my skin was once radiating.

Once finished in the shower, I step out and wrap a white fluffy towel around my body; the cool air meeting the wet droplets that roll down my neck, shoulders and arms sending an appealing chill down my body.

Now I stand in front of my wardrobe while trying to decide what to wear. I again get lost in the events of yesterday, silently thanking God again for letting us catch Christopher Harwood before he had a chance to unleash on Horatio, but still inwardly cursing Horatio for willingly stepping into Harwood's scope. He is the most heroic man I know, but God sometimes he can be the most stupid. What the hell was he thinking!?

But what followed, turned my world like it was a world globe being spun by some bored kid in geography lesson. Instead of trapping myself in my dangerous web like I did the day before, I fell into his too easily.

Four simple words.

I beg to differ.

And I'm reverted back to a trembling pile of over heated chicken. Silently wondering if God had turned up the thermostat for Miami, and as much as I love that Horatio just flirted with me because of my attire, I'm suddenly cursing all the black I was wearing.

Now again, I stand in front of my wardrobe trying to decide what to wear and can't help but eye my black pants that will sit snugly on my hips outlining my curves that I'm happy to say I'm proud of. Pulling them from the coat hanger, I open a drawer and match them with a black low cut tank top.

It's time for him to sweat.

Revenge is sweet.

fin