A/N: See the Intro for standard disclaimers. Okay, thisis really, really short. Blink and you will miss it. Please R&R though. I'm needy. And I know you're out there. I can hear you breathing.

Stevie: Thanks for the review. I hope I can keep your interest.

Annabel sat on the patio of the restaurant with her back against the cool wall, watching the scene before her. People were enjoying their dinner in the setting sun. No one familiar. Annabel took a sip of her warm Diet Coke and picked at her wilted salad. A shadow fell across her table.She looked up. A waiter looked down at her expectantly.

"Anything else I can get for you, Miss?"

Annabel shook her head and gave him a smile. "Thank you, I'm fine for now." The waited frowned a little,nodded and headed off. Annabel dropped the smile and went back to scanning the patio. Another shadow passed over her table. Annabel didn't look up. "I said I was fine..."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Detective."

Annabel closed her eyes. "Horatio." He pulled a chair to the side of the table so he could also keep an eye on the patio.

"Would you like to explain why you decided to paint a target on your back?"

"How did you know where to find me?" Annabel asked, a slight edge to her voice.

"Miss Sykes forwarded me a copy of your little stunt. I recognized the backdrop. Trattoria Luna. Nice. Are you trying to get yourself killed, Annabel?"

Annabel drew her lips into a thin line. She looked over at Horatio, her eyes stormy with anger. "I'm trying to take my sister out of the line of fire, Horatio."

"Your sister is at the station. Completely safe."

Annabel visibly relaxed. "I didn't know that," she mumbled.

"You never checked. Either with the station or your voice mail. I left several messages."

"I was doing what I needed to." Annabel looked out over the patio.

"What you needed to do was let the rest of us do our job. It's about trust, Annabel. You trusting us. Trusting me. You don't even know who you're looking for." Hortaio's tone was devoid of emotion. Annabel inwardly winced at its flat tone.

"I have a pretty good idea," she countered.

"Rafael Cabral is a guest of the State of Illinois."

Annabel's gaze snapped to Horatio's face. "Since when?"

"Since he was responsible for the death of a Chicago police officer."

Annabel paled. She took a deep breath. "Who? Who's dead?"

"A Corporal Geoffrey LeBeau."

Annabel looked down. "I worked with Geoff." she said quietly. "I knew Rafael should have never been let back on the streets."

"I'm sorry." Horatio stood up. "It's time for you to leave," he said quietly. "No one is coming. You are going to have to let us do our job, Annabel." Annabel reluctantly stood up. The utter stillness in Horatio's voice compelled her. Annabel threw some bills down on the table. She made sure to leave a generous tip to make up for tying up the table for so long.She preceded Horatio back toward the restaurant. Both of their heads snapped around at the sudden roar of a motorcycle racing past the patio. As it turned the corner, Annabel exhaled. She glanced back at Horatio, his face was unreadable. She turned and walked forward.

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