Some people do not know there is a difference between the color navy blue and just plain black. Oh, perhaps they know but only intellectually. Label the colors differently and, of course, there's a difference, there must be. But simply present a swatch of one color, remove it, and then present a swatch of the other color and most people will declare there is no difference between the two.
Not that Horatio was counting on that difference or even thought that much about it. It's just that, thanks to an excellent choice of tailor several years ago, who had convinced him to go with a navy blue tuxedo, he was always one of the most attractive men at any occasion to which he wore it. He didn't realize the subtle color brought out the reds in his hair more vividly and most particularly the green highlights in his slightly grey blue eyes.
He did know the tailor produced an excellently well cut product, one that made him feel comfortable and flattered his build. Most men hated to wear tuxedos but, though not the CSI lieutenant's favorite garb, he did not mind donning this one on occasion.
And this occasion, another benefit gala heavily sponsored by Miami-Dade Police Department, had so far been run of the mill. At least, until now.
Perhaps it was the gown that clung to her long curves, covering only essentials on top and flowing in glittering steel-gray cascade against hips and legs over an occasional flash of silver sandals on beautifully tanned feet. Perhaps it was her dark hair pulled in a Grecian Fall style first high to the back of her head and tumbling in dark waves to her neck. Perhaps it was the way she walked and stood, carried her arms, gestured with her hands. All of it gave her the illusion of height, length, zenith, if you will.
"Hey, Handsome. They hogtied you into coming too?"
"Indeed they did, Calleigh."
"Alexx is around here someplace. I saw her and her husband a bit ago. He sure is a mucky-muck; really in his element with all these money-bags floating around."
"Heh."
"Oh! There's my friend Danielle over there. I'm going to have to pop over there and say hey."
Not realizing he sounded hopeful, "Which one, the tall one?"
Having watched Horatio ogle the woman for the last ten minutes from his spot near the wall Calleigh decided to play it cool. "Not the one in the red dress. The other one." The 'one' in the red dress was a dowager in her seventies.
"A friend of yours?"
"An older sorority sister. She'd graduated before I came into the house but she came back for visits. We got to be pretty chummy."
"Is she one of the guests here?"
"Oh, no. She's one of the organizers of this shin-dig. I think it's a business for her. She knows names; names with money, names who have the facilities, the flowers, the decorations, the food. All that! She always did. She knows how to make it all come together. Just one of those people that is good at anything she tries."
Horatio nodded appreciatively. "Hmm."
"Come on over with me. I think you'll like meeting her." Calleigh knew darned well he would.
Just as the introductions were made a man in a security uniform ran up to whisper into Danielle's ear. "Oh, dear." She looked embarrassed. "Calleigh, it seems I have a problem and uh, I'm wondering if I could impose on you and Lieutenant Caine here for a favor."
Looking to the her boss she replied, "Well, we're off duty..."
"Isn't this something security can take care of?" He tilted his head.
Looking gorgeously flustered Danielle tried to give an appreciative look to the guard who was still standing by. "It's just that a guest upstairs in one of the VIP areas is well, behaving inappropriately and if we, well, if he is offended he might withdraw his support or actually, the family might..."
"And," concluded Horatio, "to be admonished by a mere security guard would be considered offensive." He looked over at the muscular uniformed man with sympathy and got a very slight shrug, a slight roll of the eyes. Reaching over to gently touch Danielle on her wrist he said, "You know what? I'll be right back." Gesturing to the security guard to follow, the dapper Horatio, turned and trotted up the wide, curving staircase.
Ten minutes later Horatio was explaining, "I just mentioned that I knew his father's number and would happily call to ask if he minded his son getting a police escort home. I gave the number to Mark, the security guard, just in case."
Danielle clapped her hands in delight. "I'll keep that in mind for the next time that happens. Thank you, that was perfect!"
Horatio's eyes danced in the light of the appreciation. He was about to proceed with some small talk when a woman in a black skirt and a short-cut, white server's jacket approached and stood up tall to whisper something in Danielle's ear. Looking apologetic she excused herself and ran off to attend to the business of keeping a gala running smoothly.
Calleigh looked up with an affectionate smile. This matchmaking stuff wasn't easy! "Oh! There's Alexx. Let's go talk."
Eventually Horatio had to wander off to do the 'political thing,' get noticed for his presence by the proper brass, look interested in what the representative City Councilperson had to spout on about, accept some gushing compliments about the 'tremendous job he and the other police officers were doing' from several of the very monied, bejeweled matrons present, so it was some time before Calleigh found him again.
"Did you hear? Hurricane Elsa has decided to pay a visit after all."
"Two hours ago it was supposed to be more than a hundred miles south of here but has veered north. I hear," was the replying purr.
"Well, it's sure clearing out the crowds here. People want to get home, afraid the roads might get blocked."
"And you, Calleigh?"
She flopped a hand, "Oh, I'm not worried and neither is my date. It's only a category one, going to be off shore anyway, cause some weather is all."
Horatio, taking a sip of the very fine whiskey he'd been nursing all evening long, smiled in agreement. "A little rain, a little thunder and lightning making for an interesting evening all around."
"I talked with Danielle for a second. She said the dance orchestra is staying, that they were paid to play until one o'clock, so Mark and I are going to dance until they toss us out into the storm." She smiled hugely in anticipation then urged Horatio to join her and the rest at their table in the banquet room.
"So the party will continue for those who wish to stay?" He strolled beside his favorite blond.
"It's only the newbies that are leaving. Of course, that accounts for about half of the guests here."
A couple of hours later, a relaxed Horatio, tie loosened, but on watch as usual, surveyed the large ball room. The tables, set around the highly polished, black dance floor, cleared of the dinnerware, most empty of occupants, still had their white cloths on them the skirts of which were swishing in the breeze from the open french doors, making the tables appear animated, as if eager to get up and dance. The ambient light of the room was brightened now and again by flashes from the storm outside, which revealed a lone, very attractive figure seated at one of those tables on the opposite side of the dance floor.
Horatio excused himself from the surrounding party and as he walked to the table, which was set in the direct path of a breeze from one of the doors, his hair was caught and ruffled by a puff of wind. Just as he spoke, there was a flash of lightning, "May I have this dance, Danielle?"
He was greeted by charming smile, "It would be my pleasure."
Later that evening and on too rare occasions thereafter there was more pleasure of a personal nature for the both of them.