Now if only the human element were as consistent! LOL.

Disclaimer: While the ideas expressed here are my own, they're based upon the characters and themes of CSI-Miami and its multi-talented team of artists. As far as I know of this date, 02/29/08, they have no basis in reality and aren't drawn from any known events, whether occurring in the past, currently in progress, or pending investigation and reporting.

Horatio waited impatiently for the meeting to start. His body language alerted all present that he'd rather be ANYWHERE but here. Alexx shot him a sympathetic glance across the conference table, and something in that look told him that she'd known about this meeting well in advance of its occurrence. He heard their Chief of Police, Chet Andrews, clear his throat nervously and took his seat at the head of the table.

When Chet's boss, Director of Operations Stanley Hennessey strode into the room, everyone gasped in surprise but Chet. Apparently, even he wasn't happy that this conference was going down today. Stanley approached Horatio's seat and asked him to move to the right, leaving him the head chair as the leader of the meeting.

"Chet, Horatio, and company," he began solemnly, "I'm delivering bad news this morning. MDPD's favorite Lieutenant is going away for awhile." Here he paused to gather his thoughts and the silence was deafening. "It's been brought forcibly to my attention by a certain Richard Stetler that Horatio has been a very bad boy of late. Apparently he made an unsanctioned and ill-advised trip to Rio a couple of years ago and killed a man named Riaz. While he rid the world of a viper, that snake was apparently a prime informant for the Homeland Security Department; which riddance the aforementioned agency did not appreciate."

"Sir," Eric interrupted, "Horatio only killed the man defending my life."

"While that may be true, Mr. Delko, and I've no doubt that it is, your journey to Rio wasn't a sanctioned activity and has therefore led certain parties to question your sanity and emotional stability. With the Lieutenant's continued refusal to seek approved psychological counseling, Agent Arthur Park, among others, has requested that he be removed from service until such time as he's received that counseling and proven that he's on the mend upstairs."

"Oh, so it's okay for that snake to bite Horatio, but it isn't okay for him to retaliate under severe duress? Riaz killed three of Horatio's finest officers, his wife, and several others close to him. When was he supposed to act and how, if not as he did? By the way," Tripp responded heatedly, "he and Delko used their leave time and personal resources to find and deal with the man."

"Unfortunately, Sargeant Tripp," Stanley responded coolly, "they also availed themselves of lab facilities to process evidence for personal reasons while they searched for Mr. Riaz. If they'd remained outside of MDPD's jurisdiction and found independent means to process their evidence, there wouldn't have been a problem."

"I guess it doesn't matter that he also thwarted a known drug lord's murdering four innocent boys," Alexx replied, her iciness matching the Director's tone for tone. "Or that he solved three outstanding murders during his jaunt in Brazil; or that he rescued his nephew and sister-in-law before they could be harmed by his nemesis? I'd call that a justifiable homicide if ever there was one!"

"There's no need to shout, Dr. Woods. I understand and share your concerns. I'll let you in on a little secret, people, Corporal Stetler has only retained his position because I'm his first cousin; but even I'm beginning to doubt the wisdom of his continued employ with our precinct. However, that isn't at issue here. I've come to extend an olive branch of sorts to the entire day shift."

Just as Stanley opened his mouth to explain, every pager in the room went off but Horatio's. Another case was in the offing, maybe two, and he hadn't been included in the proceedings. He looked at Chet's face to gauge the man's reactions and din't like what he saw there, for it boded ill for him. Or so he thought.


When the last investigator had cleared the room, Chet laid a staying hand on his best friend's shoulder to keep him from leaving as well. "I'm sorry, old buddy," he said regretfully, "but until further notice this isn't your lab. We're sending you away for a 90-day educational Sabbatical. It's better than putting you on unpaid leave, so chin up and face forward, Lieutenant Caine."

"Now that your colleagues are gone, Horatio," Stanley said reassuringly, "we can get down to the business of discussing your future with MDPD. Neither Chet nor I believe a single word of Rick's allegations, but others further up the food chain aren't so sure. They don't know you as well, since they haven't seen you in action as we have. They're also concerned about the allegations of murder that the authorities in Brazil are making against you and Detective Delko."

"You'll forgive my skepticism, Director," Horatio intoned, "but how can you help me survive your cousin's continual assaults on my good name and character if I'm not here to refute them? As for the Brazilian's attempt to extradite me for murdering Antonio Riaz, they're as bogus as Rick's charges are."

"Do they know this?"

"I'm not sure, Stanley. Eric and I left Rio hurriedly to rescue my nephew and a couple of other boys from Riaz's partner Diablo's designs on them. We haven't returned there because we've been too busy here. Again, though, just how do you plan to protect my good name while I'm out of action in Virginia?"

Stanley and Chet were amazed at Horatio's tenacity. They'd heard rumors about it, of course, but hadn't realized just how determined he could be to resolve an issue. When it came to his good name, he was obviously preternaturally concerned about preserving it, especially now that he had a son who'd inherit it from him one day. Stanley cleared his throat nervously and responded with,

"By making sure you aren't here to prove him right, for one, and by profiding Miami's hardest working Lieutenant some well-earned time off at MDPD's expense. Corporate has noticed your dedication to maintaining your skills and know in forensic techniques. They're surprised that you've paid to continue your education, instead of applying for the grants that are available to you for that purpose.

It was actually Chief Comptroller Angei Deiv who recommeded that we send you out to a Federal enforcement agency to further your knowledge and skills. She kindly noted that it would benefit all concerned if you were to take an extended Sabbatical to refresh your memory on some skills and introduce others you may not have had the time to review as our busiest Detective. Also, your absence from this lab will allow us to watch your colleagues process their caseloads out of your watchful gaze."


"We know they're competent, efficient investigators, Lieutenant," Angie said, "but we need to see where their weaknesses lie and how best to strengthen them without your well-intentioned interference. Calleigh DuQuesne's already proven her worthiness to be our next Lieutenant, keeping a firm but gentle hand on the reins here while you were on your jaunt in Rio.

As for your talented protege, Eric Delko, we want to find a good place for him; one that accommodates his disability while encouraging him to develop as a chemist and auto analyst. Then we'll be able to retain his services in the lab, where he's safer given his medical condition.

We've spoken with Dr. Woods and she's content to remain where she is for now, but would enjoy a foray into more modern forensic autopsy techniques. She's particularly fascinated with newer ways to tease fingerprints from fingers that aren't exactly in the best shape to give them and from body parts no normally known to cooperate with less recent fingerprinting techniques.."

"Detective Wolfe, contrarily, needs to fall on his face and recover without you there to prop him up. He's still not as forthright about his less savory activities as he should be. He's sought help intermitently for his gambling addiction, but still hasn't owned his part in his mistakes. This troubles us, as it endangers anyone with whom he serves in the field."

"I see," Horatio grinned with relief, "you're protecting me from Stetler's baser instincts while testing my associates to see where they'd be better placed elsewhere within our precinct. "All's fair in love and war," as the Bard said. I admit that I've wondered what to do about Eric's impairments without removing him from duty. I think he'd make an excellent Supervisor in the lab. The promotion will soothe his pride while providing him the opportunity to prove himself at the same time.

Calleigh needs to receive recognition for her contributions to our solved rate. I've got my doubts about Mr. Wolfe, but so far he seems to be keeping himself straight. I don't believe that cutting him loose would benefit anyone. And Tripp, well he's a whole other ball of wax."

Stanley and Chet grinned as Horatio finished his assessments of his teammates capabilities. Even now, with his career at MDPD in serious jeopardy, he continued to put his team's needs ahead of his own. There had to be some way to thwart Rick's machinations so they could retain the Lieutenant's august services. They simply couldn't afford to lose him to a competing agency. The question was how to do this while appearing to do just the opposite.

Their first priority was getting Lieutenant Caine as far away from Rick Stetler as possible while they dealt with the ramifications of the man's delusion-inspired insanity. He clearly was unwell upstairs and needed firm discipline if they were to save their department and his career; although the latter issue meant far less to them than did the former. If saving their lab meant canning the Corporal, so be it.

Convincing the man before them of the wisdom of their joint decision was another matter altogether. He was famed for his incisiveness and ability to discern intentions from what wasn't said as much as what was. His career had the lives of a cat, having survived numerous attempts by outside agitators to have him relieved of duty. And then there was Stan's cousin, Corporal Rick Stetler. No one understood his obsession with creating problems for Horatio Caine, whether in his peronal life or on the job.

So now the brass had to send away a man they sorely needed in order to oust one they didn't. And all because the latter couldn't accept that he hadn't been the right guy for the Lieutenancy at the time, and still wouldn't be right for it because of his emotional volatility. It was a huge mess all around, one that needed careful handling so they wouldn't incure yet another accreditation hearing before the DHS in the fall.

"That may well be, Horatio," Stanley said quietly, "but all the same I'd rather you weren't around for these events. Rick's got an ember up his behind and it's burning him pretty badly. First you bested him for a coveted promotion, and then you compounded your lunacy in his mind by warning him off of Yelina Salas after they argued. Rick thinks he's God's gift to our precinct and acts according to that delusion. Unfortunately for all of us, that means he's always right in his own mind; even when he's dead wrong according to procedure and protocol."

"He's certainly no team player, I'll give you that, Stanley. Are you telling me that he isn't exactly a stellar family man, either?"

"Your astuteness knows now bounds, does it?" Stanley laughed, "He's gone through three wives because he's not a nice guy. But we aren't here to discuss him. We're here to outline your educational itinerary for the next three months. We'll make sure to schedule plenty of true R and R, as well, so you're completely rested when you return. We aren't about to relieve you of duty, Lieutenant; but it's wiser for all concerned that certain individuals think you are about to join the ranks of the unemployed."

"So what's the plan, then, gentlemen? If I'm to comply with orders, shouldn't I know what they are and their pertinent details?"

"Horatio, you're a hot commodity as a possible candidate for Federal employment," Chet added, clearing his throat because he was more than a little on edge. "You've got six agencies vying for your time as both a pupil and an educator. These are ATF, CIA, DEA, FBI, IRS, and NSA. We all know that the NSA doesn't exist, don't we?" Chet laughed. "Since your time is somewhat limited, we've outlined two equally attractive options for you review over the next two weeks. I'll expect your decisions on my desk no later than the 25th so Sybille can make your travel and accommodation arrangements prior to your departure for your first agency."

"Thank you for this opportunity, I think," Horatio smiled warmly, and this time it actually reached his eyes. "I'll get my class schedules and so on to you by the end of the week. Now that I've got the complete list, the choosing should be fairly straight forward."

That meeting had taken place two weeks ago and now Horatio was pacing nervously as he waited for his flight to Virginia. He'd been wanting to visit with his old buddies at the CIA for awhile to re-establish his ties there. The agency could be an endless fount of critical information, even when it didn't want to be. You just had to know how to finesse your contacts out of the data you needed to clinch your case. Also, it wouldn't hurt to research other career options with the Fed so he'd have an alternative in line should things go belly up in Miami.

It stood to reason that, being no longer in Dade County's employ would free him to pursue the love of his life without fear of departmental reprisals. As if on some internal cue, he saw Calleigh approaching and grinned like a schoolboy. She'd seldom left his thoughts, even after they'd parted company after their marriage went bust. If anything, she'd been with him more AFTER their break up than before it.

He'd regretted ending their brief marriage then, but both had agreed it was the wisest course at the time. They'd known that ending it as friends would keep the door open if they chose to reignite their shared passions in the future. She'd seemed almost cold the last time they'd met before the judge to dissolve their union, but wouldn't say why. She'd also looked a tad ill, but he hadn't seen many pregnant ladies and so hadn't recognized the signs of morning sickness on his beloved's face.

He'd heard rumors circulating as far away as his new post in Manhattan that she'd miscarried a little girl, but had pushed the information to the back of his mind so he could focus on his career. He thought that she'd tell him if she were pregnant so he could help with the baby, but she hadn't done so. And then he remembered Maia's bombshell during his last investigation before his Sabbatical. He had a son. Had he really been so callous as a younger man that his two closest paramours had kept their expectancies from him for fear of his reaction to them?

Apparently, when it came to the female of the species, he still had a lot to learn. He suspected that was the primary reason he was still single. He was too much his own man to allow for the vagaries of a woman's presence in his heart and mind, except when it came to a certain sloe-eyed blonde investigator, that is! She was never far from his thoughts, either now or prior to his employ with MDPD.

He paid particular attention to the expression on her face. She was genuinely upset that he was leaving, because she didn't know if he'd return from the Sabbatical his superiors had arranged for him. There was also a faraway look in her eyes that he recognized from their youthful marriage. She was dreaming of what could be to stave off the black thoughts of what might be. He'd often chided her for that very trait while they were married. Now he knew it had probably been one of her saner qualities that had been critical to saving their friendship.

"Hey, pal," she gibed gently, "sorry you're leaving us. I'd love to strangle Stetler for his pains, but refuse to sink to his level to get rid of him, since he isn't worth the trouble it'd cause. Have a great flight and good luck with your courses. Just hearing of you teaching again gives me goose bumps. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"You silly goose," he replied mistily, "I wouldn't be rash enough to chase skirts while on Sabbatical. That's only happened once, and we BOTH know what happened because we were the ones most immediately involved. Wouldn't want to start something I couldn't finish. You taught me that lesson last time."

"And here I thought you'd forgotten about us."

"As if that'd ever happen, sweetheart. I just didn't recognize the svelte, fiery spirited blonde I hired as my former flame, is all. You'd changed A LOT since our last conversation, is it so strange I didn't recognize you?"

"We'll have to discuss this later, where there aren't as many witnesses, Horatio. Stetler would absolutely LOVE to find out about our brief, disastrous union, and I don't want to give him that satisfaction."

"Was it really so bad, Calleigh? I thought we'd done okay for first timers."

"We'd have made it if we weren't so pigheaded about doing what we wanted instead of combining all of our resources as a team should do. Again, a precaution, though. Take a quick look over your right shoulder. Rick's eyes are gleaming like somebody set them ablaze. And Alexx and Eric are to our left, absorbing every detail. Alexx has always been FAR too astute about us for my comfort."

"Okay, okay, pal, I get the gist," Horatio chuckled. " I'll keep you in my thoughts while I'm away. We really need to talk when I return to Miami, as there are several past issues I need you to clear up for me; and I'm sure you have your items for me to explain as well, my dear."

Calleigh just smiled warmly, bringing out that hidden dimple he loved so much. He was practically drooling as he watched her sashay out of the reception area. It was DEFINITELY overdue to meet someplace private and pick things up where they'd left off! But the ramifications of such a reunion might be more painful that the temporary respite it would offer them.

Horatio entered the terminal, passing his weapons through the checkpoint as planned. Since they were his personal guns and ammunition, the security personnel took extra time to assure themselves he wasn't a terrorist hijacker bent on another 911. They phoned Chet and Stanley, who gave them a complete description of the man, his guns, and his plans for the next few months. They also relayed his contact information for his first stop, earning Horatio several respectful stares in the process.

Clearly, there existed other forms of education that didn't occur in a classroom. He was about to discover that not all of them were pleasant, either. Once checked in for his flight, Horatio took his seat and tried to get some rest. He knew he'd be a very busy man once he touched down in Virginia, since his first stop was the CIA complex at Langley. There he'd complete the registration process, check in at his rented condo, and do his best to study for the next day's classes.

There were two schedules to balance, here. There was coursework and classwork. During the former type, he'd be the pupil; during the latter, he'd be teaching others. He had to differentiate between those he'd be teaching and those where he'd be the student, because they required entirely different approaches if he was to get the most from them.

For his purely instructive coursework, he'd need a digital recorder, two pencils, and a thick legal pad for note taking. He'd also require a complete syllabus so he'd know the instructor's thought process before he took the course. Aidan had thoughtfully provided as much information as he could, but there were still several key pieces missing.

For his teaching courses, Horatio needed the textbooks assigned, a completed syllabus, and an approved reading list for his students. It was this series of decisions that intrigued him the most because he'd seldom taught this many students, or had them possess so many advanced degrees. It was a long, long time since his teaching days, so he was just a tad intimidated by the prospect these pupils presented to him.

Once he'd completed thouse courses, he'd be headed to Quantico and the FBI for a thorough update on fingerprinting, voiceprinting, and other tracking technologies as well as their partners, the ATF to upgrade his bomb analysis skills. He felt decidedly rusty, as he hadn't had the time to renew his licensure in the latter field because of work constraints.

Having finally boarded his flight, Horatio was miles away both physically and emotionally. He couldn't hide from his feelings for his little Spitfire any longer. Every other relationship he'd tried to start with someone else, including his sister-in-law Yelina, had fizzled and he hadn't been able to understand why. Having FINALLY recognized the love of his life was working for him as his chief ballistics expert, Horatio realized the other relationships had gone belly up because no other woman held his heart and nethers quite the way Calleigh DuQuesne had and still did.

Forced by his temporary incarceration within his seat, he reflected deeply upon how they'd met (he'd been teaching a class in bomb making and its hazards), why they'd struck such a chord in each other (both shared a passion for police work and for helping those in need), and why the marriage had failed so miserably. Here he wasn't on as solid a footing as he'd have wished, for he suspected the failure was more his fault than Calleigh's. He'd been far too immature and wild to make into a good husband.

She'd been a bit skittish, but now that he knew her background at home he understood her nervousness. Her father, while a doting one when sober, had been an absolute b------ when soused; which sadly had been much of the time. She'd found solace in her schoolwork and friends, a solace she still sought when facing a crisis in her life. He was deeply in her debt, because she'd taught him that it was okay, and even necessary at times, to rely on others when he needed emotional support.

He only briefly glanced up at the distrubance in the aisleway because it didn't seem dangerous. A woman was arguing with her boyfriend about the location of their assigned seats. She wanted him to trade with her so the two could sit together, a request he'd have honored had her sullen spouse insisted she accept the arrangements as given so they could get on with their flight. While the woman seemed inocuous enough, the gentleman in question was out of place. Horatio came fully alert when he began reaching into his coat, as his police training and inbred suspicions acted to arouse him.

"Sir," he said calmly, "please remove your hand from your pocket and take your seat. You're making me very nervous."

"No way, dude," the young man retorted angrily, "I'm gonna smoke on this flight if it kills me. I can't go a minute without lighting up."

"This is a non-smoking flight, sir," the flight attendant said calmly. "Even if it weren't, you'd be forbidden to light up until 15 minutes into the flight to prevent igniting our fuel tanks."

"Damn it, woman," he shouted, "I gotta have a stogie or I'll go insane."

"Then you must leave the flight to do it, sir," the chief steward coolly informed the irate man. "Out of courtesy to those aboard who don't smoke, our airline has enacted a policy forbidding the practice aboard all of their flights."

"Giselle, you dope!" The guy shouted as he menaced his young wife, "you should've checked the flight rules before you booked this plane. You know damn good and well I can't stop smoking just to get from here to there."

Horatio's hackles rose at his disrespect for his wife. The poor woman had paled dramatically and begun quivering in response to the threats in his tone of voice and body posture. He was accustomed to getting his own way and it showed in his dismissive treatment of the flight attendant and the Captain when they intervened on the lady's behalf.

"Then you and your wife will be escorted from this flight and offered another of equal value on a competing airline, sir. We can't delay this flight just for you to light up, nor will we land it every ten minutes to accommodate your selfishness."

"In the meanwhile," Horatio intoned with menace, "you're better off deplaning as the man suggests. You're not the only passenger on this plane, and some of us have appointments to keep."

One look at Horatio's set face convinced the youth to do as advised without further difficulties, which he did with extreme reluctance. Once the man and his frightened wife were safely deboarded, Horatio asked to see the flight manifest. Something about the young man had struck a chord in his memory that he didn't like. Upon checking it, he realized that they'd released a wanted felon unintentionally. A quiet word with the chief steward got him a phone and a number to call, but he used his own number to summon the authorities to arrest the fleeing felon.

Sargeant Tripp received the call while at a crime scene and scrambled his crew to nab the guy before he left Miami Dade Airpark. Even forcibly removed from his post, Horatio was still faithfully defending his beloved city. The thought brought a wry smile to Frank's face.

Here his friend was, being shipped off to God knew where, possibly permanently, because a jealous nitwit had decided to smear his good name. He was keeping his watchful eye on things to keep his city safe, while his assinine associate was doing his best to get Horatio relieved of duty. If he could arrange Stetler's permanent disappearance without jeopardizing his own skin, Frank would do it in a heartbeat.

Horatio tried in vain to settle into a comfortable position for a long siesta, but it just wasn't going to happen. Like a scratched CD, Horatio's thoughts unerringly returned to their favorite subject once he had returned to his seat. He'd begun wondering where his beloved blonde had gone when her resume had crossed his desk at MDPD. Apparently, she was in need of a change and thought Miami would provide that needed element in her life. Sure, she'd included a full body shot, as well as a head shot, but he'd failed to recognize her because she'd changed so much in 15 years. Her figure had filled out, her face had become more streamlined, and those emerald eyes had taken on a colder hue than he remembered.

He pondered whether their failed marriage had anything to do with that coolness and suspected it did, and more than a little too. He'd had her contact information while she was at SCU, and later at Miami U, but had chosen not to contact her. If the rumors of the miscarriage were true, Calleigh had every right to be leery of him, especially since his recent actions didn't prove he was a better person than he had been then.

Once she'd begun her probationary year, Horatio had sensed something familiar in her behaviors and speech patterns, but hadn't quite been able to put his finger on what it was. He'd fallen in love with her all over again as he'd watched her in action. She was warm, smart, and charming; as well as funny and a skilled interrogator.

She could worm information from granite, she was THAT good. He'd learned much about honey being far stronger than vinegar while watching her in the interview room with a suspect. And when her charm didn't get what she wanted, WHAM! She'd nail them to the wall with the mound of evidence proving their guilt. He didn't understand how she could be so patient with people when their guilt announced its presence so openly, but she usually got the confessions she sought long before her victims realized just what they'd given away during their conversations with her.

His mind began replaying scenes from their first courtship and marriage, the good stuff that had him craving her company for its sake; although the intimate side of it hadn't lacked in any way, either. She certainly knew what a man liked and what he needed; and how to give him both at once. No wonder Jake was chasing her like a mad dog, and he wasn't all that far behind!

And what a behind! Tight, tiny, and absolutely perfect. Like an overripe apple, just waiting to be plucked and eaten. "Oh, God, please give me something ELSE to think about," He moaned quietly. "I've really got to get it together before I land in Virginia."

"Please lock your trays into the upright position and fasten you seatbelts for landing," the flight attendant instructed. "We are preparing to land at Langley Airfield."

Horatio did as requested, gathering his briefcase and coat as well. He knew things could get hectic when deboarding a flight and didn't want to lose track of anything he'd need later. He lamented his inability to controll his runaway thoughts, for those lapses had cost him the time he'd needed to prepare properly for his coming interview with Aurelio McDavit, the Director of Operations at the CIA.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice chuckled, "if it isn't Lone Wolf Caine returning to his old stomping grounds. Welcome home, stranger."

"Ah, Aurelio, it's good to see a friendly face for a change. How are Mabelinne and the kids?"

"They're fine and anxious to see you, too. It's been several years since you were last back to visit us. The girls have grown into beautiful young ladies and are quite a handful these days."

"Speaking of females," a second, younger voice added, "how many new notches are there in that rather long belt of yours?"

"That, Antony, is none of your beeswax, but not as many as your lecherous tone implies."

"Let's cut the chit chat, shall we, gentlemen?" A decidedly icy female voice issued from the black Crown Victoria parked on the tarmack. "Lieutenant Caine has far better things to do with his time than discussing his latest femal conquests with the likes of you."

"Hello, Lilah," Horatio responded tiredly, "still trying to rein in the boys, are you? Weren't you recently promoted to a position worthier of your time and a attentions?"

"Yes, but apparently the boys can't get enough of my attentions, so they misbehave occasionally, forcing Caz to send me down to correct them. As if I didn't have enough to do, scheduling MDPD's erstwhiles, including their most elusive Lieutenant. Be warned, sir, there are several nubile vixens who've set their caps at you."

"I'm not the wolf I once was, thanks to a certain sloe-eyed blonde, and more than a little age and wisdom as well."

"Poor baby, Calleigh's still got your heart, huh?"

"Always has and always will, in spite of a couple of notables along the way."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about Marisol, by the way. I heard that her death really chewed you up."

"I'm not sure I've recovered from that, even now, Lilah. But I don't discuss these things with my colleagues, so I certainly won't discuss them with you."

Lilah had hoped to worm the information from him while he was recovering from his jet lag, but should have known better than that. The CIA had sought him after he'd been released from the DEA, but hadn't been able to secure his services; because he'd longed to return to Manhattan. When, after a year, that assignment had also blown up in his face, Lilah had been seriously concerned for her childhood friend's welfare.

She should have realized that Horatio Caine would come out smelling like a rose, no matter how deep a pile of manure he found himself wading through. The man had the lives of a cat and a feline's instincts as well, with the mindset and hunting prowess of a wolf. He had the wolf's loyalty, too; a trait most women craved even though they wouldn't admit as much.

Horatio sensed eyes on his back and turned to see Lilah's gimlet gaze upon him. She'd tried to snare him after the fiasco with Calleigh, but he'd been too freshly wounded to even consider another try then. Now, she wasn't his type at all. She was too cold and forbidding a personage to approach, added to the fact that Stewart would have his hide for even trying! He and Stewie Long went way back to the dark ages of high school, long before he'd met the passion of his heart.

Long ago and far away they'd really sown their oats. Each had kept a special leather strap with notches carved with a girl's name and the date she'd finally given him what he sought of her. He was deeply grateful that he'd destroyed it in memoriam to his failed marriage, for it would only have embarassed him now.

With a sigh for happier times, Horatio tuned back into the surrounding scenery in time to recognize a familiar building looming in front of him. He'd been taken to this building only once in his life and had absolutely no desire to return there, for it was the interrogation section of Langley. He'd been brought there after his and Ray's failed joint investigation into the meth trade that had forced Ray underground and him out of the DEA.

"Lilah, are we just touring? Or am I being debriefed about something? I've not done anything worthy of an interrogation, as far as I know."

"Relax, old man," Antony sneered, "you're here to see the latest crop of cadets as they're put through their paces. Although, regarding Julia Winston, there are many unanswered questions..."

"Most of which are no one's business but ours and so are unworthy of your prurient attentions, Mr. O'Sullivan."

"Ooooh, his hackles have risen and aren't they sexy?" Lilah laughed huskily. "Kinda makes a girl wonder just WHAT happened between you enough to look into it for herself."

"Don't dig where you aren't comfortable with what you'll find, ma'am," Horatio said stonily. "You've got a past, as does Mr. O'Sullivan. I'm very sure I'd find far more there than you'd find on me, so just drop it."

"And what of your relationship with a certain green-eyed, fire-breathing blonde knockout?"

"Again, none of your business. If you're bringing me here to discover these things, you're out of luck. I've never discussed my private dealings with anyone, nor will I ever."

The silence that greeted this comment spoke volumes. If he'd been a younger, less knowledgeable man, he'd have been nervous of the upcoming interview and what it might reveal; but he was long past the nervous youth stage and instead became cool and collected. He knew their tactics, so he had come prepared to do emotional warfare on their terms. He'd actually expected a gambit like this, so he wasn't as surprised as they'd wished.

They arrived at the garage, exited their ride, and entered the main interrogation area. Much to Horatio's surprise, it was a far more pleasant place than he remembered. He didn't, however, let this throw him off his game. He knew that the tactics used in these rooms would have curled most people's hair and likely alarmed the NAACP, Amnesty International, and many other civil rights organizations. Since the CIA's training and interrogation facilities were graded "TOP SECRET" no outsiders were permitted past the wrought iron gates that guarded the stern exterior.

This fact combined with the knowledge that he'd been given top security clearance after a thorough background check, taught him that Stanley's assertions before he left held no water. He wondered what was up back home and decided to call his colleagues for a heads up before returning to Miami. If necessary, he could become used to Virginia's green, rolling hills quite readily. He was equally certain that Kyle would like it here, too.

Lilah was busy watching for any hit of weakness in her quarry, but found none. He'd been distant and totally professional on the ride from the airfield, which boded ill for the agency's plans. His cronies at the DEA had instructed her to delve into the failed operation from years ago because they thought he knew more than he was saying, which wasn't true. He'd been as much a victim of the gunfight that had cost Ray his future as his fellow officers had been. He'd sensed something off about his brother's words with him, but hadn't been able to name a reason for that intuition then.

Andrew took one look at his friend's set features and knew they'd get nowhere with him now. He suspected that Horatio had been tipped off by a mole that he'd be facing another sit down about the fiasco seven years ago, so he'd had time to prepare before his arrival. He'd been honest the first time, but hadn't given them much to go on against his brother. No one had been sure then whether that was due to family ties, or true ignorance of his situation.

Andrew now suspected the latter. He'd delved into the relationship between the brothers and learned that they were quite distant from each other, especially since Horatio and Ray's falling out over Yelina Salas. They'd been extremely tight before she'd appeared on the scene, first going out with Horatio, but deciding mid-way through their relationship that she preferred Ray's fire to his brother's cool intellect. Now they were dancing their way through a complex maze of tangled emotions and social mores that promised a bad end to their hopes to rekindle their passion for one another.

Lila also remembered a certain, fiery-spirited blonde from the FBI's ballistics training school and the torrid affair between her and Horatio.