A/N: I'd just like to let you all know that I will also be posting alerts on my Twitter and Tumblr pages when I post new chapters, my handle for both sites is Teeheehee1234 if you'd like to follow me.
The gangly form of Simon Hutchings was about to turn to his former bomb squad colleague until he realised that the redheaded man was no longer beside him. He cursed the older man's ability to slip silently away as he searched up and down the corridor until he eventually found him at the far end, sunglasses in his hands as he twiddled them.
"Nice to see some things don't change," Simon teased as he caught up with Horatio and was rewarded with a blank look from the other man.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Simon."
"You always were light on your feet, that's what made you such a good bomb squad tech. That and the fact that you've got balls of steel."
"I could've handled the Sargent in there," Horatio finally spoke a few awkward moments later.
"And I'm sure you would have done a sterling job in sacrificing yourself, Horatio. Believe me, I know."
"Excuse me?" Horatio replied, as he stood side on with his hands on his hips, his favoured pose of authority.
"You heard me," Simon replied, refusing to be intimidated.
"I think you forget who you're speaking to, Simon," the Lieutenant warned in a low voice.
"I know exactly who I'm speaking to, the guy who stood in front of a Goddamn bomb for me. The guy who went against his superior's orders to save a colleague's life. I know you, Horatio, sacrificing yourself is what you do. It's who you are."
He could sense that what he hoped would be a friendly conversation between two old colleagues was quickly beginning to turn into something much more hostile. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Let me buy you a coffee, for old time's sake?"
"I'm afraid I have things that I need to attend to, Simon," Horatio began as he tried to wriggle his way out of yet another well-meaning conversation with a concerned friend.
"No way, you're not getting out of it that easily. Come on, let's go."
It appeared as if Simon was not going to take no for an answer, with a dramatic sigh he followed the bomb squad technician out of the Crime Lab and towards the familiar surroundings of the park across the street.
He sat on the bench, waiting for the younger man to say something to him.
"Isn't this the part where you give me some sort of sage advice, Simon?"
The Sargent looked at his old colleague and laughed. "Since when have you ever listened to anything I said?"
From the wry smile on Simon's face he could tell that he was being teased, he felt a warm sensation begin to wash over him as he found himself enjoying the friendly banter. It had been too many years since their paths had crossed, since his transfer to the Crime Lab he had always intended to keep in contact with his young protégé. Intentions were nothing without actions though; months had turned into years before either of them had realised but he had always kept an eye out and watched the younger man's progress in his chosen career.
Simon had been a tall, gangly and uncoordinated sort of fellow when he had first met him and he had serious concerns that the nervy young man would ever have the poise and grace needed to disarm explosive devices. The poor boy's progress had been painfully slow at first; it had taken weeks of encouraging and cajoling until Simon had been able to disarm a test device without his hands shaking uncontrollably. It was just sheer bad luck on Simon's part that he had triggered a motion activated device that nearly cost both men their lives.
Being caught in a bomb blast had been a new thing for both of them and not something that either of them ever wanted to repeat. Being stuck in that hospital room with Simon had forced him to spend time with another person, something that he had not been used to during his last few years in New York. The emotional wounds of his time undercover for the FBI still ran deep and he had tried valiantly to keep his distance from anyone who attempted to get too near.
He had fended off Simon's attempts to strike up a meaningful friendship and chose to treat him as just another colleague to be kept at arm's length. He had been touched when the young man had told him of his new-born son's middle name but he felt as if it were an honour that he did not deserve, not after the things he had done in his past.
Hindsight caused Horatio to question if he did the right thing all those years ago when Simon came knocking at his door.
Flashback. Miami 1998:
He'd been released from the hospital a few weeks previously after being deemed fit enough to look after himself. After a couple of weeks being cooped up in a hospital, he was glad to return to the familiar surroundings of his own home. If he were being honest with himself he would have admitted that after all the noise and movement that a hospital provided it made his own house seem eerily quiet in comparison.
Al had visited him on an almost daily basis and although he appreciated the older man's concern there were times when he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. His superior would not take no for an answer on the morning that the doctor finally signed his discharge papers and released him from the hospital's care. The big, burly form of Al Humphries had insisted on carrying his paltry bag of clothes and belongings even though he insisted that he could carry them himself, being hindered by a pair of crutches did not help his argument any though.
Al had blabbered on at him all through the car journey back to his own home, he didn't really pay much attention to what the other man had been saying and had by now learnt to nod his head and smile every so often to give the impression that he was actually listening to him. His boss had also visited most days since he'd been home, checking on him before and after work to see if he'd needed anything. He appreciated his superior's concern, he just wasn't sure he deserved it.
He could feel his eyes getting heavy as he continued to read the book that Al had brought him to read during his convalescence, a large tome dedicated entirely to the fine art of bomb disposal and detonation. It had been with a smile on his face that the older man instructed his subordinate to read the book from cover to cover and insisted that it was ideal homework for him. He'd sat with the large book on his lap for the last few hours, the words were starting to blur in front of his eyes and even several cups of black coffee failed to keep him alert.
He sat up straight with a start as he heard the front doorbell chime, the sudden movement causing his still aching body to protest as he let out a deep groan and grabbed at his sore ribs. Curious as to who could be at the door, he grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the hallway.
"Simon, how are you?" He asked as he saw the lanky frame of his young teammate standing awkwardly in his doorway.
"Good thanks, it's been my first week back since…."
He could tell that the younger man still blamed himself for the incident even though there was nothing that either of them could have done; it was just pure bad luck that Simon had triggered the device.
After a few minutes of standing, leaning his weight on his crutches, his body began to signal its displeasure at being made to support his current position. He adjusted his body weight as he looked at Simon curiously.
"Was there something I can do for you?" he asked as he tried to keep the grimace from his face.
Simon seemed to come back to his senses, as if realising that he had actually come to visit his colleague for a reason. "Can I come in for a minute?"
He thought momentarily about deciding against it, his house was his own private domain, a place where he felt he could shut out the rest of the world and keep to himself. One glance at Simon told him that the man obviously had something he wanted to say, his compassion for his colleague and his own need to sit down made the decision for him as he nodded his head and shuffled ungainly out of the way and opened the door wider.
"Simon, what is it?" he asked when they were settled in the kitchen, both of them with a steaming cup of coffee in front of them.
"You know that Tanya's had the baby?"
"I do," he replied as he took a sip of his coffee, "A boy I believe."
"Yep, Jacob Caine Hutchings," Simon replied proudly causing the other man to splutter his coffee and choke on the liquid that had slid down his throat.
It took a few minutes for him to regain his composure; still not sure that he'd heard Simon correctly.
"The christening is coming up in a few weeks; Tanya and I were hoping that you'd do us the honour of being Jake's godfather?"
Miami. Present day:
"Who did you choose in the end?" Horatio asked quietly, keeping his gaze on his coffee and not the man he was sitting with.
"An old school friend. It's shame though; I know you would have made an excellent godfather."
Horatio said nothing and nodded his head sadly. "For what it's worth, Simon, I'm sorry."
"It's ok, I understand, certainly a lot better now than when you turned me down all those years ago."
Simon cursed himself; he'd just inadvertently given Horatio another reason to blame himself for something he couldn't control.
"I would've, Simon, if I could have…I didn't want you or your family getting messed up in my life…..you deserved better than that."
A sombre silence descended on the pair.
"How is Jake?" Horatio asked as he watched a couple of children playing on the swings in the park, making the most of the humid afternoon.
"He's at college now, makes me feel old," Simon joked as he cracked a wry grin. "I met your son a few months back, Kyle isn't it?"
Horatio nodded his head, a wistful smile crossing his face as he thought of his precious boy and the deep bond they had formed. "Yes, it is."
"He's a lot like you…..a man of action, stubborn as a mule….He adores you, I could see it in the way he acted while you were missing. That kid would've done anything he could to find you; you know…we all would."
"He's a good boy….I'm proud of him."
"He's in the Army, isn't he?"
"He is," Horatio replied succinctly, preferring not to think of his only child in potential danger.
Being a parent himself, Simon could understand the concern that Horatio felt for his son. No matter how old your child was you still worried about them each and every day, it was what a parent did.
"You never stop worrying about them, no matter how old they get."
Horatio regarded Simon for a moment before dropping his head back down. "That's true."
"My daughter, Kiki, she's just coming up for sixteen. I swear I'd never let her leave the house if I could. She's all into boys and makeup at the moment, boys are much easier to parent, believe me."
"You're lucky, Simon. You have a wonderful family…..look after them; it's a precious gift to have children and to be able to watch them grow."
"I know, and I'm thankful for them every day, even when they do drive me mad." He watched the older man who still had that wistful and slightly sad look on his face.
"Don't be mad at Calleigh for calling me, she made the right decision. She cares for you, Horatio."
He felt a pang of guilt as his thoughts returned to Calleigh and the way they had left things in the office. He was still angry with her, both of them were stubborn and would be reluctant to back down from their position, one of them would have to make the first move, he just wasn't sure if he wanted it to be him.
Pride comes before a fall, old man.
"You've got something good there with her, don't throw it away over some jumped up IAB officer. Your team care a great deal for you, Horatio."
He nodded his head again, "I know."
"Anyway, I have to get back," Simon declared as he looked at his watch and stood, holding his hand out to his former colleague. "Let's not leave it so long next time, eh?"
He stood and shook the proffered hand. "Simon…I know that I was never much of a friend back then, but I'd like the chance to change that…..if I could," he asked hopefully.
"Me too," the younger man agreed. "Take care of yourself, Horatio."
He returned Simon's warm smile with one of his own. "You too, Simon...You too."