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Horatio Caine's Family ~ New Beginnings	By : blackbear355 Category: 1 through F > CSI: Miami Views: 1570 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI MIAMI or any of it's characters. I do not make any money from writing this story. I do not own the tv series MacGyver or any of it's characters. The characters of Julie, Malann, and their family belong to me.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
CHAPTER FIVE
WARNING: Explicit sexual activity, and reference to bisexual relationship, and two ethnic slang words. If this is not something you want to read, do not go any further.

I don't think there is an All-Star Hotel in Miami, and if there is, I mean no disrespect.
June 14, 2003 (Saturday)

JULIE'S FIFTH MEETING WITH HORATIO SINCE DEC 2002

HORATIO LEARNS ABOUT HIS SON TOMMY
Julie called Horatio at the CSI lab one day, and gently inquired if she could see him again. She would be in town on a certain Friday, running errands for some clients. She would be staying at her favorite, the All-Star Hotel on Friday evening, and she would be in Miami all day Saturday, and part of Sunday. Could she see him? This time, he didn't hesitate, but told her yes, he would love to see her again. He would be busy with work on Friday evening, but he could pick her up at her hotel on Saturday, and they could go somewhere. She gave him her room number. He hinted broadly that he just might want to stay in her room and order out to eat. After he said goodbye, she grinned with anticipation at the thought of the two of them staying in her room alone, and ordering out for food. She also knew that if they chose to stay in her room, it would not be the food they would be eating.

***********************************************************
At about 8:00 on Saturday morning, Horatio knocked on her hotel room door, hoping she wasn't still asleep. He remembered how she liked to sleep late when she had stayed with him eight years before. He played with the sunglasses in his hands and waited.
He was just about ready to knock again, when he heard some stirring from the other side of the door.
"Who is it?" Came a sleepy voice from behind the door.
"It's Horatio--Caine."
He heard the bolt shoot back, the door opened, and she was standing there before him. "Good morning, Sunshine," she said, still looking like she was half-asleep. "You are early." She wiped a hand over her sleepy eyes and stood inside the door, blocking the entrance.
His eyes couldn't help raking over her blue silk baby doll nightgown that fell in gentle billows to just above her knees. After a pause he lowered his head and inquired, rather shyly, "Are you gonnu invite me in?" His mouth turned up in amusement.
"Aye."
With a nod, she stepped aside to admit him.
He entered the room a little hesitantly, and stopped just inside. Neither one could think of anything to say, and the silence was fleetingly awkward, but the emotional feelings they had for each other showed in the smiles they lavished on each other.
Horatio realized that words were not necessary for himself to feel the deep affection this woman had for him. Her clear gaze upon him felt like a warm comforter, full of promise, and a glow coursed over him, and through him.
He said, hesitantly, "I--um--I have to be honest with you, Julie. If I come in, I won't be leaving anytime soon." He looked around the room before his eyes again came to rest on her.
Hearing this, she moved slowly and deliberately to the door and locked it, chain, dead bolt, and all. This action was not lost on him. As a little extra, she padded to the dresser, took up the 'do not disturb' sign, shuffled back to the door, unlocked it, put the sign outside on the door knob, closed and locked the door again, and came to stand before him, sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired, and still looking a little dazed.
To prevent any chance of escape, she thought to herself.
She tried to stifle a yawn with her hand, but was unsuccessful. She purred at him, "Horatio, you look lovely." Again, she yawned.
He beamed a smile, and his eyes swept the floor shyly, although he was not unaware of her body under that little blue baby doll. His imagination was brought into play, and he felt a twitch in his groin.
"Horatio Caine, I do not care what you and I do today, as long as we can do it together."
She flashed him one of her devastating smiles, and her body language, plus the tantalizing nightie she was wearing, made him aware that this was going to be a SPECIAL DAY. She looked him up and down seductively, not sure what the next move would be.

"Well, I know what I wannu do." He stood, feet apart, continuing to look at the floor.
"And what is that?"
He looked at her indecisively. He moved toward her, lowered his head, and gave her a light, timid embrace. He leaned toward the dresser, and with one hand, lay his sunglasses down on it. Then, with his hands on both sides of her face, his lips brushed against hers, timidly at first, but as she responded, he tugged at her mouth with his lips. He softly said, "I want--I want you, Julie Anne." His sapphire eyes targeted her turquoise ones.
His fingers felt like a softly stroking breeze as they brushed her unruly hair back, then his hands moved down and in circles around her hips, first over her nightie, and then under. The proof of his affection became increasingly evident with each breath he took, and fairly vibrated out of his entire body. He suddenly realized that the love he had felt for her before had never left, but only been dormant for many years.
Julie pulled back, and placed her hands on his sides. "I--I--have been so long away from you--will--you take the lead, and show me what you want me to do? And I will follow."
At her words, once again he felt a familiar stirring in his abdomen. "Mm hm," he hummed, as he stepped toward her, more confidently this time, and pulled her to him again. He caressed her neck, kissed her forehead, mussed her already-awry tawny hair. "I sure will, ma'am." He stretched out one arm behind her, and with the other, caressed her lower back, and pushed her toward himself. He pressed his abdomen into hers, and she took a deep breath.
"My sweet Sugar Caine--I have waited so long for this--" She went up on her tiptoes, to reach his face.
"So have I." His hands were all over her shoulders, kissing, gently pulling down the straps of her nightgown, his hands up and down her arms and her body, slowly at first, and then more urgent, as his anticipation built.
"Are you sure you want this?" His gentle eyes were questioning.
"I do, my love. More than anything. I want you." She shivered as her excitement heightened.
He moaned softly, his lips more intense on hers. "I wannu make love to you, sweetheart," he growled lowly. "I wannu kiss you, and savor you, and take you in every way."
"So sweet--your kisses are so gentle," she murmured. She was fully awake now, and alert.
Her arms went around him, hugging his shoulders as her mouth opened to admit his wandering tongue.
His lips teased hers, pulling, nibbling. He breathed deeply, and murmured, "Your kisses leave something to be desired."
"They do? And what is that?" She thought he found her wanting in that department.
"---the rest of you."
"Oh--huh--huh." Encouraged, she kissed him a little harder.
When his mouth moved down to kiss hers again, her tongue flicked over his lips, and his mouth opened wide in response. He felt her hands on his lower back, as they moved down to his butt, rubbing him, squeezing him through his pants, wantonly. He swayed back and forth, rubbing his body against hers. A groan escaped him.
They searched each other's bodies gently at first, and then more boldly. She had a way of undressing him with her eyes, as well as with her hands. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and he helped her by shrugging out of it, and letting it drop to the floor.
He took off her nightgown, lifting it over her head, and dropped it to the floor carelessly. His mouth encountered her breasts, his hands became more bold, his kisses more demanding. "Mm. You're shivering, again."
"I don't care. I want you to--to--" She moaned softly as his mouth caressed her breasts.
He paused as he noticed the firm buds of her nipples, and it thrilled him that he was the reason for it.
"You--you--are so beautiful," he said, breathlessly.
His hungry mouth attacked her nipples, a wonderful feeling for both of them, the delicious sensations on his tongue, and a source of delight to her, as his lips moved around her entire breasts, kissing, making a circle, first one, and then the other. He left off to gaze deeply into her eyes, planning a return to her beautiful rosebuds a little later.
"Your favorite toys," she whispered into his ear as she stroked his hair.
"Mmmmmmm," was all he said, as he went back to his kissing.
"Do not try to talk with your mouth full," she lightly teased him.
Her tongue licked him, and her mouth traveled lightly over his stomach, chest, and shoulders, and she kissed his scars, knowing that even though they no longer caused him physical pain, the emotional scars were still with him.
"Take my pants off, Julie," he rasped.
She fumbled with his belt, and unzipped his pants, and let them settle around his feet. He stood patiently as she tugged at his boxer shorts when they caught on his hardness. The extra tug on his boxer shorts gave his readiness away.
"You--are stuck." She did not sound like she minded at all.
When he tried to help, she slowly moved his hand away. "Huh--uh," she said. "Let me do it."
His smile was wide as she gently disengaged his length before the shorts could come down the rest of the way.
Then he stepped out of them.
He returned to her nipples, sucking, kissing, licking noisily. His passion was intense. He couldn't suppress a moan of happiness.
Her hands clutched his red hair, pulling at it softly, her lips caressing the tendrils, mussing it over his ears.
He pulled his head back slightly, wanting her to come to him, to pull him back to her.
She didn't disappoint. "That feels--sooo--good--" She whimpered loudly, and a tremor went through her body as she coaxed him to her again. "Come back here."
He responded by pressing her lower body into his, smiling at her, and the same delighted gesture was returned to him.
He let her play with him, and she happily explored every inch of skin on his side, stomach, and abdomen, stroking, rubbing, caressing.
Her hands moving down lower, she trilled, "And this bad guy is MY favorite toy."
"All for you, baby." He refused to relinquish his hold on her as she gently worked the loose skin back and forth over his swollen stalk.
He stopped what he was doing momentarily, to let her enjoy him, take in the sight, and try to control the rising tide that was beginning to sweep over him. Watching her give him such close attention was driving his wanting of her through the ceiling.
"Why do you stop?" She asked, her breath raspy. "Why do you stare at me?"
"Maybe I like what I see." His voice was low and husky. "Do you mind?"
"No--I like it."
A condom wrapper suddenly appeared in his hand. So smooth, she wondered how he had gotten it without her noticing. Maybe he had it in his hand all along. He presented it to her.
She put it on him, with no small amount of kissing and stroking. Ever so carefully, she worked the skin back, slipped the condom down his length, and lovingly replaced the loose skin back over the condom.
This nearly drove him wild, and he fought hard against the urge to fling her to the floor and ravage her.
It was a marvel to him how gentle she could be with him--had always been--with that part of him. "You are not hurting me, sweetheart," he sought to reassure her.
"I--I want to do this right."
"Baby--you are doing fine," he reassured her again.
He gently but firmly, backed her toward the bed. As she yielded, and lay on her back, her legs bent at her knees, and her legs dangled over the side of the bed. He saw the happiness in her eyes. So he proceeded. He removed her underpants and threw them aside onto the floor. They were already drenched, and he chuckled.
Kneeling on the floor, his lips encountered the wetness between her legs, and he pulled and sucked at her mound, his hands around her legs, and she wiggled in breathless response. His mouth moved up to the hair on her abdomen, and up to her stomach. His hands wondered over her stomach as he moved up to lie on the bed beside her.
The rising tide within him was now beginning to crash over the top of the dam. He began to lose control. His hands moved over her middle and his mouth licked at her belly. His hands were trembling.
His head moved down the center of her chest and to her belly button. His starched manhood prodded at her thigh as he leaned over to kiss her stomach, again and again, his lips more demanding.
Eight years ago he had acquainted himself with her completely, but now he refreshingly renewed his introduction to her body. He stopped for a moment as he leaned back to just admire. Moving back to her, he gave attention to her hips, her arms, her hands. He watched her face, listened to her breathing, memorized her form, absorbed her very scent.
And she in turn, reached out to him, moving her hands over his forearms, his neck, the smooth skin on his hip and thighs, all with a sense of wonder.
With a growl, he rained kisses on her breasts with a starved longing, and his hands covered her mounds as he let himself caress her more assertively, desperately fighting back his desire.
"I want you in the worst way." He voiced his desperation.
She diverted his hands, with a gasp. "Wait--wait--"
"Whatsa matter?" He looked confused, and he froze.
"Too fast--slow down."
He made a valiant effort to slow down a little, and looked into her eyes. He would wait for a signal from her before he went any farther. He willed himself to stay calm, although it wasn't easy. He moved his face closer to hers for a better view into the depths of her eyes.
Reaching under her legs, he lifted her farther up, onto the bed, so her knees no longer dangled over the side, and her head was toward the head of the bed.
He changed his position to lay his head upon her abdomen and look down at what was enclosed between her upper thighs. He was very well acquainted with women's bodies, after having a number of lovers in his life, but this was JULIE'S body. He had previously known her, and connected to her, so this made it extra special to him. He had not remembered how soft her hair was, not at all wiry, but like a baby's head of hair, soft and pliable.
He took in this lovely picture, as awesomely unique and eye-catching as she was. He raised his head for a better look, and with his hand holding her thigh, he quite appreciatively absorbed the sight of this wonderful scene, incredibly wet with wanting. His head and shoulders raised above her, gently holding her legs apart so he might better take in the sight.
He lifted her lips gently apart and lightly applied his fingers to her ready mound, and toyed with soft caressing motions, which made her twist and move her hips in response. This pleased him to no end, and he breathed in deeply.
Her eyes never left his face. During her lifetime, she had allowed several men to look at her down there, rather fleetingly. But she had never seen a facial expression of such deep interest and affection from any man as what she was getting now from Horatio.
She watched his expression with great interest. Never had she felt so wanted, so admired, and at once so studied, as she was feeling this morning. She was loving every minute of it. And so she permitted him to look, to savor, and to play at his own pace.
He moved up once again to lie beside her, his fingers still toying with the moistness between her legs, as he gazed deeply into her eyes through his abundant lashes. She meaningfully stroked his cheek, and with a look of wonder, caught his face and brought it down to her own, to cover him with kisses.
"Hm?" He hummed an unspoken plea.
"Okay. I am fine--now." Her look to him was one of desire. "I want you. I need you now. And I'm--going to HAVE you." And she laughed softly.
His fingers moved up her abdomen to her stomach. His touch was making her wildly excitable.
"So are you ready now?" She teased him.
"I am more than ready."
"Now--now--" She whispered with a moan. "Do not stop."
"I don't intend to."
"I--I--want--I need you--inside me," she wheezed, with a tortured look on her face.
This was what he was waiting to hear.
She reached behind herself, turned over onto her stomach, and tore down the bedspread and sheet. Then, she flipped back over, and reached toward him with a starved longing.
Such a look of total happiness all over her made him happy too. He scooted her farther toward the head of the bed.
"This is it." He groaned loudly as his resolve shattered.
His stiffness pressed into her stomach as he placed his hands and legs on either side of her.
Trying to be as tender as he could, given his state of mind, he moved first one knee in between her legs, and then the other. "Ssspread your legs!" he hissed.
Her body obeyed him with yearning, and she opened herself wide for him.
His body lowered onto hers, straddling her, and into her welcoming arms. "I can't--STOP!" he moaned.
A tremor went through her body, she whimpered and then let out a long breath at the sight and feel of him on top of her.
"Oh!" she gave out a moan that filled the room. "I am going to get it now!"
He rolled over, never letting go of her, and she was on top, his arms tangled around her. He rolled again, she on the bottom, and he raised up, grasped her hips, and pushed himself into her with a grunt of satisfaction.
She cried out in euphoria as she welcomed him in, her legs wrapped around his back.
He curled around her, and she around him, and they tangled like two fishing worms, giving it their all, totally wild, increasingly wonderful, carnal.
Acting on primitive instinct, her legs entwined around his, encouraging him to penetrate deeply, holding on, lifting herself into him as he pushed into her over and over, grunting out his pleasure.
He gathered her possessively into his arms and deliriously kissed her, devoured her, clutched at her back and hips, desperately pulling her onto himself, pushing himself deeply into her.
She lifted her arms above her head and grabbed onto the head of the bed for extra ballast, and moved with him, in perfect rhythm. Her eyes never left his.
"Say my name, sweetheart," he demanded.
"Horatio. Horatio!" She called out, and when she did, this turned him on even more.
She laughed. "Horatio! Horatio! HORATIO!" She sang out, whipping him into a frenzy. She certainly was having fun with him.
The sound of their bodies made contact with each other, as he slapped into her again and again, and each time her body rose to meet his.
He couldn't resist laughing outright, at her exuberance, at the happiness on her face, in the very joy she showed at being with him, and only him.
The only sound in the room was their labored breathing, the sounds of their intense love-making. They studied the varied expressions on each other's faces as they clung to each other, as though each moment would be their last.
He moved up forward on her body, moving in an up and down motion, and he wouldn't let up, harder and faster, and she went crazy as he hit her tender spot again and again, tossing her head around, grabbing his arms, the blanket, the head of the bed, his hair, anything she could curl her fingers around. He accelerated, and she was thrashing around so much he had to hold onto her arms to keep her from twisting out from under him. For such a small woman, she was incredibly strong, made even more so by the passions that had taken over her. Her twisting and writhing turned him on even more. With his hands, he pinned her arms above her head, as he rode her out.
Her body stiffened under him. She tried to kick her legs, but he was weighting them down with his. He felt her explosion coming, and when it did, it erupted in a scream, and a geyser of tears. She looked devastated, her eyes wide, mouth open, loud gasps of breath. He was near crying himself as his own orgasm noisily came a second later, and she screamed again, and grabbed hold of him, and pulled him down on her. And then she sobbed like her heart was broken.
He was concerned he had hurt her, but she reassured him that when she cried like this, it meant she was happy. Because it felt so good.
She refused to let go of him. She clung around him tightly, still desiring him, still wanting him.
As for Horatio, he was in heaven.
She released her legs from his, and they lay quietly, and gazed at each other for a long time. He softly stroked her as she let her head rest on his shoulder. Neither said anything, but a smile began to form on her face. It was infectious, and he began to smile too.
Her hands caressed his face lightly, and when her breathing had returned to normal, she began to speak to him softly.
"Oh, my sweet angel," she murmured, barely audible. "How long I have waited to be with you again." She rubbed the back of his hand, put it to her lips, and kissed his hand.
He said nothing, but let her speak love words to him, devouring every minute of it.
"To be your friend was all I ever wanted," she whispered softly to him. "To be your lover was all I ever dreamed."
His eyes softened as he looked into her face, and a happy smile crossed his features.
She didn't want him to leave her body, but he had to take the condom off. It was uncomfortable. She watched closely as he removed it. She sat up, cross-legged, while he lay on the bed, and they gazed intently at each other. Words were not necessary.

***********************************************************
"Thank you." She spoke to him softly.
He reached out to her, and she took his hand and placed it on her breast, and she held it there.
"For what?"
She caressed his face, and lightly stroked his skin.
She began to speak to him softly, again.
"Many years ago, you taught me how to love again, but not how to stop."
"I don't want you to learn how to stop."
His touch on her neck sent shivers down her spine.
"Sweet. You like that?" His hands teased her, and she exposed her neck to his hand by moving her head to the side.
"I do, 'Ratio."
She looked into his eyes with a sense of awe. "--my first time with you--after eight years--" She played with his fingers on her breast.
"And I hope it won't be the last," he said, hopefully, his eyes flicking over her body.
"No, my sweet Sugar Caine. It will not be the last."
She took his hand, and rubbed her cheek on it. "The best is yet to come, if you want it," she purred.
His fingers traced the c-section scar below her belly button. "How many kids did you say you had? Twenty-seven? Or was it seven?" His voice had a manner of teasing in it.
"What makes you think I have any more children?" She smiled at him, evading the question.
"Well--your nipples look like raisins, and I didn't think you had that many stretch marks. Not that I remembered."
She regarded him for a silent moment, but didn't say anything.
She nodded toward the waste basket, where he had thrown the used condom. "That cover--condom--do you like wearing that, at all?"
"No, not particularly. But it deadens the sensation a little--prevents me from coming too soon."
"So that is why you use it?"
"You have to ask? The risk of pregnancy is a possibility. It seems we've had this conversation before."
"I like the feeling of your skin on mine--inside, as well as outside."
"Maybe that's why you had seven kids, huh."
Tell him. Tell him now, that little voice inside her was saying. Tell him he has a son. But instead, she said, "I believe you told me one time, that they were not comfortable, because you are a bit large for them."
"Mm. That's right. I've got some extra baggage here." He twisted his body so his abdomen was closer to her.
She reached down to wrap her hand around his wet, sticky penis, and held it gently.
He shivered, with an intake of breath.
"Well, at least, that cover--condom--did not break at all."
They smiled at each other, both remembering the incident of the ripped condom in 1995.
"Horatio?"
"Yes, ma'am." He lay beside her, his head propped up on one hand.
"I am 53 years old now. Sss--so--that is highly unlikely. And as much as I relish the idea of having another one--of--I mean--I do not think there will be any more."
"Fifty-three? Honey, you don't look fifty-three." He was a little astonished. He had no idea she was that old.
"What is a fifty-three supposed to look like?"
He wasn't sure what to say, as he tried to find the words. He was a little embarrassed at his own thoughts.
She released his penis, and caressed his side. She didn't say anything for a time, but then ventured, "Maybe a condom is not a bad thing to have, after I think about it. There is one thing I do not want."
"What is that?"
"I do not want any sexually transmitted dis--seases."
"That--that is a double-edged sword, Julie."
She made no reply, so he said, "It works both ways."
"Not for me."
"Why not?" he looked at her, his eyes wide.
"Because I KNOW I have not been with a man since before I moved to Florida. I do not have any--uh--thing. But I do not know that about you." She did not say this viciously, she was merely stating a fact.
He lay beside her, thinking. How much did she know? She couldn't possibly know about himself and Dale. She had never been told. He knew he was going to have to tell her about Dale sooner or later, but still he procrastinated.
"I'm--uh--sorry--I do not mean to offend you." Her look was apologetic. "After John married that woman, I wanted nothing more to do with men, until I saw you again." She sighed deeply. "And that was only because I had already met you before.
"What makes ME so special to you?"
"Because you--" gave me a baby, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. Instead, she said, "--maybe I like your hair. Same thing that made you special eight years ago. I hope--that I have pleased you--um--" She turned her eyes down, feeling awkward.
She was noticeably nervous, he could tell, but he didn't know why.
"Yes, you have, but it's not all about pleasing me. It's about pleasing each other. Have I pleased YOU?"
"You have indeed." She moved closer to him. "I like to be near you."
His hand caressed her shoulder and the back of her neck, as his eyes took in the loveliness of her body. His eyes lingered on her arms and hands.
"Do you see these spots?" She held out her arms for him to see. I inherited them from my grandmother. I am of mixed racial ancestry. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, not at all. Never had a problem with it before. Why should I now?"
"Be--because my skin gets darker in the summertime, you see. When I was with you before, it was in March. Now it is June, and when my skin darkens, the spots--show up more."
They spent a moment looking closely at Julie's spots on her arms and wrists. They looked like tiny scars to Horatio. He couldn't help wondering what kind of abuse would cause scars like that. He wasn't sure he bought her story about inheriting these spots.
"Do not ever call me a nigger or a redskin," she emphasized, her lovely face darkening.
"I wouldn't do that, but can I call you a cultural blend?"
"Aye, you can do that." She laughed in her quiet way.
Two sets of eyes regarded each other with deep mutual affection.
"Horatio?"
"Hm."
"How old are you?"
"Forty-nine."
"Do you think I am too old for you?" Her words were almost a whisper.
"Do YOU think you're too old for me?" he countered with his own question.
"No."
"Well, neither do I."
"I know--that--you prefer younger women--you call them girls."
"Well--um--I--uh--why would you think that?" He knew it was true--before--but after knowing her in the past, his attitude about younger women vs. older women had changed. Drastically.
She shrugged her shoulders, and looked toward the curtained window.
Horatio wanted to take a shower, and he strongly suggested she join him, so they both went in together. She patiently bathed him in her special way, with lots of kisses and sweet words. Then, they went back to bed, and cuddled together, until she fell asleep. He dozed too, with her arms around him, until she began to toss and turn, and he watched, fascinated, as she had an orgasm in her sleep. He helped her along, a little, but mostly, she did it on her own. It woke her up, briefly, and she dozed off again, giving him a sleepy-eyed gaze as she did so, her arm curled around him. Surely, he thought, this was one of the most fascinating, loving women he had ever met. He loved the feeling of having her near, and he was also reluctantly falling back in love with her, after so many years.

***********************************************************
Julie woke from her nap to find Horatio dressed only in his boxer shorts, sitting backwards on a chair next to the bed, his arms resting on the back of the chair.
He had been watching her sleep.
"Heh." Her head raised, and she gave him a curious look.
"Hello."
"How long was I asleep?" She raised into a sitting position.
"About an hour."
"And you stayed?"
"Of course. I told you, I wasn't leaving anytime soon." He rubbed his forehead with his thumb.
Julie's lips curled up at the corners. "Thank you, Horatio."
He got off the chair and twirled it around. "Get dressed. We'll go out to eat, maybe take in a movie."
"What time is it?" She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned.
"About 12:30."
She remained sitting on the bed. "I--I--think I had another orgasm. It woke me up."
"Yes, you sure did." He chuckled.
Her eyes widened. "And you saw me? You watched me?"
"Mm hm. It was entertaining." His grin widened as he stood over her, looking down at her.
She looked up at him, aghast, and her face blushed scarlet.
He gave her a toothy smile, amused that himself could make her blush so easily.
"I was not faking, you know." She raised her chin in defiance, defending herself.
"I know you weren't."
"That is what happens--when you go so long--without--it." She scooted over to the side of the bed, and stood up.
He agreed, with a nod. "Yes--must be all that pent-up energy."
"I wish we had not showered so soon--after--"
"Why's that?"
"I like the smell of it--I wanted to smell like I have been fucking, at least for awhile."
"Yes, I remember. You like the smell of sex."
"I do. I am an animal." She walked toward him. "Can I touch you again--there?" She looked at his crotch.
"Please do." He stood very still in front of her.
She caressed him through his shorts, then inside, and he stood quietly, making it easy for her. His sharp intake of breath let her know that she was beginning to arouse him again.
"Baby," he gasped, "If you start that again, we'll never get out of here."
They both laughed, and she moved away from him.

***************************************************************************************
While he finished getting dressed, she went to the drawer and pulled out a lacy bra and panties, a blouse, and a flared skirt.
As she passed him, he noticed a circular, round scar right in the middle of her back, and he looked at it curiously, until she turned her body away from him.
She finished dressing, and brushed her hair as he looked around the room, and glanced at her occasionally.
He noticed some pictures that were lying on the dresser. "Are these your horses?" he asked.
"They are."
"Nice-looking animals." He stood with one hand on his hip, the other shuffling the photos a little, to get a better view of them.
"Thank you. Someday, we will all be together again."
"Together--how--do you mean?"
"I could not bring them with me when I moved to Florida, I had to farm them out with other people, you see, but now I have some proper fences, and a good stable for them, and I want to bring all my horses home."
"How many do you have?"
"Twelve now."
He chuckled. "Why--why do you need twelve horses?"
"For my children, and when the time comes, for my grandchildren. But now, mostly for myself, so I can begin teaching again."
"You teach?"
"I teach horsemanship, and how to properly care for horses, how to ride, and--well, I did--before I moved here, and one day, I will again." She looked at him with determination, her chin up. "When I have my horses back, I will be a whole person once again."
Julie finished dressing under Horatio's watchful eye, and then they went out to lunch.

******************************************************************************
Horatio knew of a nearby coffee shop, and that was where he took Julie. They ordered their meal, and he noticed right away that she wanted to sit next to him in a booth, just as she had done before, years ago. This, he did not mind at all. He looked on it as a good sign. He also looked at her in a way he had not in eight long years. And he thought to himself, you are not going to get away from me again--no, not this time. Dale be damned.
Lunch was eaten with enjoyment. He bought a newspaper, and they turned to the movie section to study the bill of fare that was showing around the city.
"I am sorry, Horatio. I just do not see any movies here, that I want to see." She took a bite of her rice pudding and looked at the newspaper lying open beside her plate.
He turned to the sports section, and scanned the page.
"That was a good lunch, and I thank you for it. And for everything else you have given me." Especially your son, she was thinking, but she didn't mention it to him.
"You gave me something, too," he said, and he took her left hand and held it open.
He remembered their conversation at the beach about a month ago. "A knife scar on your palm. A defensive wound. An attempted rape." He couldn't help but think about the infant that had been mentioned in the Baltimore police report.
He scooted closer to her in the booth, and lay his hand on her back. "How did you get the one on your back? You didn't have THAT one before." He had noticed this scar in the motel room this morning, when they were involved in their passions, and then later, as she was getting dressed.
"I was bitten by a horse. A very mean horse. Just about seven years ago." She smirked. "Just--not too long after I left you." She looked down. (This mishap had occurred when she was six months pregnant with Tommy.)
He lifted her skirt, and put his warm hand on her right thigh. "And this one? I don't think you ever told me--"
"I was injured in a car accident. In Massachusetts, when I was about seventeen." (This was the automobile accident that had taken her mother's life, but she wasn't prepared to tell Horatio about it.)
"And this one?" He lay his hand on the back of her neck, and fondled her hair. His breath was very close to her ear.
"In Ireland, I fell out the back of a wagon, and I hit my head on a brick--I think." Her brow furrowed, trying to remember. "I remember the blood."
"You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, huh."
"Some say I am just unlucky. I've been called uncoordinated." She giggled. "I am inclined to think of myself as clumsy."
"Anyplace else you would like to go?" After all this time, he was still considering the possibility that she had been the victim of abuse, and she was trying to hide it.
Julie wiped her mouth with her napkin and asked, "Can we go somewhere and look at sailboats?"
"Mm hm."
They left the table, and he threw down a tip, and paid for the lunch. He put on his sunglasses, and they stood together on the front steps of the restaurant, and Julie lifted her head to gaze at the surroundings around them. She sniffed the air and stared up at the clouds.
"It is a glorious day, with the birds, and the green grass, and the ocean breeze blowing subtly from the east--" She stuck her index finger into her mouth to moisten it, then lifted it into the air. "--at about thirty miles per hour." She sounded like she was giving a weather report.

"Yes it is, Julie. Its up in the nineties today." His look followed hers, as they studied the cloud formations above them.
"Horatio, do you like country music?" Julie rummaged around in her purse until she found her own sunglasses. She put them on.
They walked toward his car in the parking lot. "Not a lot--nothing in particular."
"And why is that?"
"Too twangy, darlin'. Too much crying in your beer, cheating on your wife, and--and being forced to listen to it through the walls. Understand?"
"Well, then, I am in trouble."
His look told her he wanted her to elaborate.
"That is what I like to play." Then she added, "Perhaps you have never been properly introduced to it." He opened the passenger side door for her, and she slid into the seat.
"Can you introduce me to it?"
"Only if you really want me to."
He went around to the driver's side, and positioned himself behind the wheel. "I thought you were into folk music--the classical stuff. Didn't you go to the symphony once?" He put the key into the ignition and the car roared to life.
They fastened their seat belts.
"I did, 'Ratio. And I came back very early the next morning, and you were upset with me for being out so late. You were up in your blue boxer shorts--" She laughed at the memory.
"Oh, yeah--I'd forgotten about that." He chuckled, too.
He pulled out onto the highway. "I like rock, some classical, jazz--that's how my taste runs--pretty much what we used to listen to at my place."
"I remember, Sugar Caine."
He lowered his head and stared at her over the rims of his sunglasses. "You like karaoke, you go to dance halls, bars, those places?"
"I would rather slit my throat than be involved with karaoke. I like my music to be alive, and original, not some tired, old rehashed number that is trying to be resurrected by someone who cannot hold a tune in a gallon bucket."
Horatio smiled at her description.
"Can you play anything else?" he asked, his eyes on the road in front of him.
"Sure I can."
"I'd like to introduce YOU to some things." He turned down a side street. "Like to take you to a basketball game sometime. Like to take you on a cruise. Maybe on a camping trip to Brazil, huh."
"Aye, we can do ALL those things, 'Ratio." She flirted at him, with her eyes. "I live in Florida now." As though he had forgotten.
"Hm hm hm," he emitted a low laugh. "What else you like to do?"
"My two passions in life--music and horses--so anything that is connected to them. It is the same as when I was with you before. I particularly like sports that involve a lot of physical activity, and sweating."
"So, no chess games, cards, anything like that?"
"They are alright, if you are trapped in the house, due to weather, flooding, or hurricane conditions, or you are in the hospital, bedridden, recovering from a broken leg." She smirked at him. "Then, you can play those little sissy games."
Horatio studied his old but new-found girlfriend with amusement.
"Actually, I just want to do everything, see everything, and go everywhere." She emphasized by waving her arms around.
"Hm, hm, well, that--that is a lot of ground to cover."
"Well, I can try, Sugar Caine, I can try." She nodded at him with determination.
"Sugar Caine. Is that my new nickname?"
"It is. Be--cause you are sweet--like sugar--and I like your name--Caine-- Just be grateful I do not call you Candy Caine."
He looked at her askance. "Ohh--kay."

*******************************************************************************
Horatio drove to a place in North Miami Beach. On the way there, he heard her whispering, and he thought she was talking to him, but then realized she was singing to herself.
As they were driving, Julie left off her singing, and looked over at him with resolution, and she stated, in a no-nonsense way, "Horatio, I am living in Florida now. If--if you care--I will not be leaving in two weeks, as I had to before." She suddenly became shy, as though she had said too much, and she turned her head away from him.
"O--kay," was all he said, but he knew what she meant. He had been thinking the same thing himself.
Julie wanted to look at the sailboats, so they parked, and strolled down the walkway, through a kind of park, toward the boat docks. This time, it was Horatio who reached for HER hand, and held it in his. He held it close to his body, possessively.

They reached the walkway to the sailboats, but a chain prevented them from going out onto the pier. That area was reserved for the owners of the boats. So they stood there next to the gate, and watched the sailboats enter and leave the slips.
Horatio and Julie took great delight in each other's company. They spent a couple of hours just meandering around the park, talking a little, but mostly watching the people and the activities in the park. They had discovered years ago that they were eerily compatible with each other, like minded, and shared a lot of the same thoughts and feelings. They enjoyed each other's silence, and found it was not always necessary to do a lot of talking. The physical closeness could be enough.
They were approaching the perimeter of the park.
Julie wished that Horatio would open up more about himself, but supposed that he had his reasons for not doing so, and she didn't want to pry. But as before, when they had known each other, she had come to realize that he'd had a not-so-great childhood, had been abused by his father and his uncle, and not a lot of good relationships. He could be distant at times, but she realized, so could she. They both had secrets.
During the years they had been apart, he had put on some weight, she noticed. His face looked fuller, and he had some lines on his face that she supposed, were caused by the nature of his work, and the heavy responsibilities that went with the job. The spare tire around his middle had grown a little larger. Half-turning, she impulsively placed her right hand on his stomach, over his shirt, and rubbed it like Buddha, just because she wanted to feel him again, and for no other reason. The smile on her face was brighter than the sunshine, and it warmed him to see it.
In response, he put his arm around her and pulled her close, firmly, and her hand went around his back. She had the back of his shirt clenched in her fist, as though she was never going to let him go. He kissed the top of her head, and her response was to lift up on her toes and embrace him. More kissing ensued. They looked deep into each other's eyes--his sapphire blue, and hers the color of a clear blue sky.
They stopped and overlooked the freeway before them for a few minutes, just observing the cars, the traffic, the sounds, and on the other side of the highway, the long stretch of sandy beach, and beyond it, the sparkling blue of the ocean.
"This is nice, Horatio." Julie took a deep breath, and sniffed the sea breeze. "Just walking in the park now, and on the beach, like we did last time. It meant a lot to me."
Horatio's head tipped forward, and he half-smiled. "Julie--you think--um--you think that lunch and walks on the beach should be a regular occurrence?"
"I do, Horatio. But I may not be able to say yes all the time."
"You didn't say yes last time."
"I did not say no, did I."
"Well--hm hm--no."
He turned back toward the park, and they started walking again, still hand in hand. He suggested they go somewhere and eat dinner, as it was getting late in the afternoon. She liked that little coffee shop where they had lunch just a few hours before, and she wondered if they could go there again. She remarked that she didn't want him spending a lot of money on her. Not because she wasn't worth it, she emphasized, but because the simpler things in life brought her the most pleasure.
He thoughtfully reflected on some of the other women he had known. Never had he met one who was averse to having him spend money to show her a good time. A lot of women wanted to get as much money out of him as they could. Others put demands on him, such as, if you love me, you'll do that for me, or if you care for me, you'll buy me that expensive necklace. What was unusual about Julie, was that she did not put any demands on him at all, or play head games with him, or appear to want him to spend a lot of money on her. She seemed to derive pleasure for no other reason than just being with him, touching him, talking to him. He was not accustomed to this type of woman, but he loved the feeling. He felt at ease with her. She was refreshing.
His sideways glances gave him a chance to study her. She did indeed look a lot different from the way she had back in 1995, when her hair had been dyed black, and was much shorter. Although she was still thin, she had filled out a little and she had a more grown-up aura about her. Her skin had tanned to a healthy-looking golden honey. She was even more beautiful than he remembered her years ago.
Horatio pondered as he stood with his arm around her shoulders. "Julie--sweetheart--I've--um--got to tell you something." He sighed deeply, as though he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
She stood still, listening to him.
"What would you say if I told you--I am seeing someone?" Well, here goes, he thought. She will either accept me or reject me.
"Are you seeing another woman?" Julie looked fearful. She wanted to scream, No! She can't have you! You're mine! But she kept silent.
"Well--um--not exactly--I--um--it's a--it's a male." His eyes shyly cast downward, as though he expected her to slap him.
"You mean--you are dating a man?" She gave him her full, undivided attention, although she didn't act very surprised.
He barely nodded. He was nervous, and afraid. But, if Julie was going to leave him again, he wanted to know now, before this relationship went any farther.
Julie thought for a long minute, sighed deeply, and looked around at the other people in the park before turning back to Horatio.
"I--I would say you are a very lucky man, to have someone who cares for you." She turned her face away, hoping he would not notice the tremble of her lower lip.
"--so--you can accept that?"
"Horatio. It is part of who you are." She shrugged, and refused to release his hand. She also refused to look at him. She was glad her sunglasses were on, so he wouldn't see the moisture in her eyes.
Would she lose him again? Would he choose this man over her? She was afraid too. She tried to pull her hand from his, but he hung onto her.
She timidly asked, in a very small voice, still not looking at him, "Does--does--do you care for him more than me?" She, too, wondered if he would ultimately choose this other person over her.
"I--I honestly don't know, sweetheart."
Once again, she tried to pull her hand from his, and may have succeeded, but he took her hand in both of hers, and pulled her to himself. She averted her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see them through her shades.
"Julie. Julie Anne. Look at me."
Her head raised to his, and he thought he could see some disappointment in her face, but no revulsion.
"No, sweetheart. The answer is no. I do not care for him more than I care for you."
Her lovely face creased into a frown, her dimple above her right eye showing prominently. She searched his face. "I--I want you to be happy, Horatio." She leaned into him, and put her arms around him.
Their conversation was cut short suddenly.
From the other end of the park, there was a disturbance with a loose dog that had gotten away from it's owner. A female voice shouted, "catch my dog!" It appeared to be a collie mix, and it was running away, leash trailing, toward Horatio and Julie. The owner was calling frantically, and the large animal paid no heed as it raced toward the sailboat docks.
Impulsively, Julie released Horatio, and stepped out to intercept the dog, which was about the size of a Shetland pony. She crouched, and the animal barreled into her at the same time she grabbed it's collar, nearly bowling Horatio over in the process, as the dog and Julie both slammed into his legs. It was only with the greatest effort that he was able to stay on his feet.
The animal tried to keep going to elude capture, but Julie's finger was in the chain collar, and she did not (or could not) let go, as the collie dragged her around in a circle, still trying to escape, pulling, darting to and fro. The dog's owner and Horatio worked to free Julie's finger from the chain collar, and Horatio was finally able to subdue the dog by throwing himself of top of it, pinning it to the ground. Then they were able to free Julie. The woman thanked Julie and Horatio for catching her dog, and collie and owner went their own way, none the worse for the day's gymnastics.
Julie sat on the ground as Horatio examined her finger. It was red, and the skin was scraped and raw. She would probably develop a bruise. Her skirt was messed up, and it was up around her thighs. Her hair was in a state of disarray, and covered with leaves and grass. She stood up, and further inspection showed a large grass stain on the front of her skirt, sustained when the collie had dragged her. She was not at all happy about that green stain on her good clothing.
Somehow, during the melee, Julie's sunglasses had flown off, and Horatio found them about ten feet away, undamaged. He retrieved them and brought them back to her. She replaced them on her head, and they sat securely above her forehead.
When Horatio and Julie began walking again, he thought he detected a slight limp in her right leg, although he didn't mention it. He remembered her injury to her right leg when she had been with him before.
He admonished her as they slowly walked toward where his car was parked. "Honey, you need to be more careful. I'm just happy you're not more seriously injured."
"You are right, Sugar Caine," she agreed, studying her injured finger. "I do things instinctively, and at times, impetuously." She looked at her finger again, and remarked casually, "I have always been blessed with more nerve than sense."
"We need to put something on that finger. Protect it from further injury."
He had a box of gauze bandages in his car, and she let him take care of her finger, and enjoyed the attention he gave to her.
"You know, my love, I am not superstitious, but I believe it would feel better, if you were to kiss it. It might even help it heal faster."
"Hm," he hummed, and kissed her finger.

***********************************************************
Back at the coffee shop, they sat at a table, facing each other, because all the booths were taken. They ordered a light supper, and Julie pulled a napkin out of the holder, took a pencil from her purse, and began doodling on the napkin as they ate and visited.
He waited for her to show more reaction to his declaration that he had a male lover, but so far, she had said nothing more on the subject. He wondered if she were even thinking about it.
"What do you do for a living now, besides teach horseback riding?" he inquired.
"A little of this, and a little of that. I work all over. Everywhere." She chose her words carefully. "Sugar Caine, I do so much, it is rather hard to describe--not just one thing. I help people. I am a personal assistant. I run errands for other people. I buy groceries for them. I train horses, still, and I transport them from one location to another. I can make a lot of money doing that. That is in addition to my riding lessons."
"You sound like you're a well-rounded entrepreneur." He stirred the sugar into his coffee and lay his spoon aside.
"Something like that," she responded.
In reality, he was thinking she didn't have a very stable occupation. He had no idea how much money she was making with all of her various enterprises.
She continued. "I like to write songs, and sometimes, I can sell one. I still play my music, some dancing, and singing occasionally. I would volunteer to do those things, but I can also make money doing them." She drew some lines on her napkin.
He glanced at her napkin, and was aware that she was drawing a picture of something. "What kind of dancing?" He took a sip from his coffee cup.
"A little tap, Irish, Celtic, clog, jingles, hoops. And--and--powwows. Native American Indian dances have captured my attention for the last twenty years. Maybe a little western swing, if I were lucky." She kept her eyes on the napkin in front of her, continuing to draw lines on it.
"You involved in the Native American Indian Movement?" His elbows were on the table, and he folded his hands under his chin.
"I was for years, but I will tell you more about that later, if you are interested. I have a more passive role in it, now. I prefer to work in the background, where people cannot see me. I am invisible." The lines she drew on her napkin were becoming more detailed.
"So, they do the on-camera stuff, and you do the behind-the-scene stuff." he said. "That doesn't mean the invisible stuff is less valuable."
Her eyes raised temporarily. "Well, I am very proud to say that my children are also interested in dancing and the arts."
"Any ballet? You always looked like you could be a ballet dancer."
"Ballet. Now that is a beautiful art form." She erased a line on her napkin, and re-drew it. "My mother, God rest her soul, always said I had good legs, and I should show them off."
"You DO have good legs. Beautiful legs." He smiled. "And your tight little ass isn't bad, either."
"Oh--ahhhh--" She blushed a deep scarlet. It amused him when he could make her blush.
Julie regained her composure. "She tried to get me interested in ballet, but it was not for me. I love going to the ballet, but to watch it, rather than dance it."
Her eyes flicked up to his, and just as suddenly, flicked back down again. "Do you really think my horses are nice-looking?"
"Yes."
"Well, if you say my horses are nice-looking, and if you like them, then I will be your friend for life."
"I--um--I don't know a lot about them. I don't have anything against them. Where I grew up, there was a barn about half a mile from our apartment. We used to go down there and play. Used to watch the riders wash down their horses." He didn't think it was worth mentioning that he and his brother Raymond also used to throw rocks at the horses, to get them to run. He knew she wouldn't go for that. He sat watching her, his finger rubbing his lower lip. "I know they are big, and it's a long way down. I used to date a girl--she had a horse. A Quarter Horse--I think. Kept it in a boarding stable."
"Was this after I went away? In 1995?" Julie's eyes were still on that napkin in front of her.
"Mn hm."
Julie grinned. "Well, if we get anywhere with this--strange but wonderful--friendship, you will meet them, eventually. My horses, I mean."
"I'd really like to meet your kids, Julie." His elbows were once again on the table, and his hands were folded under his chin.
She stared at him, wide-eyed. His remark reminded her of what she MUST tell him.
"You will meet them, as well." She averted her eyes down to the table. And your son is one of them, she wanted to say, but didn't.
"I don't see any reason why a relationship couldn't go anywhere, Julie." He looked at her intently, licking his lips. "Is friendship all you want?"
"It is not. I want what we had before--before I had to leave you." Julie's eyes took on a sad note. "But I fear that too much time has passed--for us."
"I don't agree."
"But--you said you are involved with another." Her eyes lowered. "I do not want to cause any trouble between you."
So, he surmised, she HAD been thinking about that. Now, what were they going to do about it?
His eyebrows raised, and he studied the pattern of the tablecloth. He looked down again at the napkin in front of her. He nodded toward it. "What are you drawing?"
"It is a map to my house." She handed the napkin across the table to him. "It is for you, mavourneen."
With her pencil, she pointed out the lines she had drawn on the napkin. "This is Lakeport, and Miami is down this way. This is Highway 27. Here is my house from Lakeport. Oh, and this is north, and this is south."
"That's quite a drive."
"I--know--it is a long way." She looked at him with a yearning. "But, if I were lucky, maybe you would think I was worth making the drive for--if you ever had some extra time--" Then she added, optimistically, "It is much closer than Connecticut."
"If you thought I was worth the trouble. We could go to the lake, or maybe just take a drive together. Or, maybe have a picnic--" Her eyes went down again, somewhat embarrassed.
He looked at her intently. "You're no trouble, Julie. No trouble at all."
He marveled at the way she handled the news that he had a male lover. He knew she was digesting this information.
He folded the napkin in half, and put it into his shirt pocket. "I have to get you back to the hotel."
"Will we make love again?"
"Baby, I wish we could, really. But I have to drop you off and go home. I have to work tomorrow."
"No, I mean, will we make love again, someday?"
"Sweetheart, you can count on it."
"But, Horatio--what--what about your other--that man?" Her face screwed up in thought. "You cannot just--you can't hurt him like that--it would not be right--"
"I want you to let me worry about that--okay?"

***********************************************************
Horatio drove toward Julie's hotel.
Julie asked, timidly. "This--this--one you have been with--does he treat you well?"
"Yes--yes, he does."
"How long--have you known him?"
"We've--um--we've been together for about three months."
"Were you with him--like you were with me--eight years ago? The night before I left you?"
"I was." He hesitated, wondering just how much he was willing to tell her, and hoping he was not telling her too much. "Yes, we've had sex," he continued. He regarded her in the darkness, and then continued. "We went out a few times, and we hung out some. Then--um--one night, I went to his place. And I didn't leave until the next morning." He sat back in his seat, and gripped the steering wheel.
"Now--I--I hope you won't think any less of me." He made a silent prayer as he drove.
"Of course not," she answered in a small voice. She said nothing more, but turned to look out the car window. She was trying to visualize Horatio with another man. She was also wishing that she and Horatio could have gotten back together again before he had met this other man.
Horatio pulled into the hotel parking lot to drop her off. "What did you do after you went home to Connecticut?" he asked. "Did you do any traveling?"
She gave him a long, apprehensive look. Should she tell him now? What would he do? A look of panic settled on her face. She took a deep breath, and her sigh was drawn out.
"Well, Horatio, I have been missing you terribly these many years. I never got over you. And I have a crush on you, still, and always will."
"Still working in that dairy?"
"No."
"No more kicks from stubborn cows?"
"No. I had a real good job at The Police Station for about nine months. On Wednesday nights." (She didn't tell him that The Police Station was a night club she sang and waitressed in for $300 a night.)
She ran her finger across his dashboard, for what reason she did not know. Tell him. Do it now, she told herself. Now is the time. This has gone on long enough. "I--I produced a few record albums for a couple of bands from Massachusetts." Her eyes met his and traveled downward with a guilty expression. She looked distracted.
"Julie, is there something you need to tell me? You seem pre-occupied."
"Well--uh--I have to tell you something--I--am--not sure how to be--begin." She clenched her hands, and she looked very uncomfortable. She was fighting the tears that threatened to overtake her.
"Okay." He waited.
She plunged ahead, and damn the consequences. "I--I--had a baby." She blinked back the tears. Her body tensed.
He looked at her, lowered his eyes, blinked, sat for a moment, then raised his eyes to her again. He thought about the infant that had been mentioned in the police report.
She stammered, "And--and I am dancing, st--still, at a few Pow Wows and Celtic Festivals." She was grasping for words, trying to regain her composure, and she was very nervous. Her eyes were downcast, and wet, and the dimple was prominent over her right eye.
She was aware of his breathing, the ins and outs of his stomach as he sat silently, looking at her with intense curiosity.
Horatio spoke softly. "Did--um--did I understand you to say you had a baby?" His sideways glance made her turn her head away. "We were together eight years ago," he murmured, whether to himself of to her, neither one was sure. "How old--how old--is this child?"
"Seven--years old."
He scrutinized her again, before speaking. "When was the child born?"
She sighed with relief, now that her burden of secrecy was being lifted. She said, "December 1, 1995."
Horatio's breath caught in his throat. He had to ask. "Whose--whose child is it?"
Now, she looked really guilty. "Well, mine, of course." She wiped her hands over her eyes and kept her head bowed to hide her nervousness.
"Julie, who is the child's father?" By the look on her face, he thought he already knew.
"Julie?" He drove his car into a parking space, and turned off the ignition.
"Julie." He took her chin in his hand gently, and turned her face toward him. "Look at me."
"It was you, Horatio. And it is, still." She continued looking at him as a single tear ran down her cheek.
A bolt of emotion went through him, and it was a moment before he could speak.
"Are you--um--are you sure?" he asked.
"Aye. I am." Her head lowered again, and she gave a sniffle. "You became a father, Horatio. Whether you wanted to be, or not." She effected a look of defiance. "You are someone's daddy."
"Why didn't you tell me?" His hand raised her chin to his face--again. "I seem to recall a promise that was made the day you left."
"Julie?" He didn't sound angry at all--just a little hurt, she thought, and she felt terrible about that.
"This--this--is difficult for me to say." She twisted her hands around each other. "But there is more--so much more--I want to--I NEED to--tell you--" She looked forlorn. "It has been so long--so many things to say." Her eyes were pleading, and now they were brimming with tears.
"You know what, Julie? Just start at the beginning and say it. Okay?"
"When I--went away--from you--I--took--a part of you--with me." She effected a look of devastation, and a few more tears ran down her cheeks. "It was your baby, Horatio."
Horatio said nothing for a minute. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, and he had to regain his breath. At length, he whispered, as the realization dawned on him, "You were pregnant with my child." It was not a question, it was a statement.
"Uh huh." She nodded. "But, you see, I did not know that until I was back in Connecticut." She sniffled loudly. "I am sorry, Horatio."
"I wish I had known. Julie, you always knew how to drive me crazy." He tapped the steering wheel lightly with his clenched fists. He sighed deeply, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
Her voice was strangely calm as she spoke. "At--first, I was scared. What if you didn't really--want it? You told me once, that having a child would interfere with your job. But later, you told me you wanted me to be the mother of your child. What if you had changed your mind? What if you wanted me to get rid of it? Which one was I supposed to believe? You kept changing your mind. So many questions, I had. But, then, I did not care any more, because I wanted it. I made you a promise if I WAS pregnant. And I DID try to contact you. Before AND after the baby was born. Your phone number had changed. Your address didn't exist anymore. I left a message on your cell phone, and you never called me back. And I wrote you two letters." Her voice sounded a little perturbed; maybe even a little angry. She wiped a hand over her eye to dry the tears.
Horatio said, in a small voice, "I recall getting one letter. And I answered it, too. There was no mention of a child."
"Yes, you did. But the second letter I wrote, it was returned to me, because you were gone, and left no forwarding address. It was undeliverable." She sighed deeply, wiped her eyes again. "That was the letter that I told you about the baby."
Horatio looked devastated.
They sat in silence, neither moving or saying anything.
She sniffed and wiped the tears away. "And then, time went by, and sometimes it was almost like you never existed, but I carried the proof that you did. And then the baby started kicking, and moving inside me, and I--would think of you. And that is what kept me going. I promised you I would tell you. And I tried. And now, I have told you. My promise to you has been fulfilled."
Now that she had told him about his child, she began to visibly relax, and the tenseness left her body. Whatever he wanted to do now, she realized, would be up to him.
The thought crossed his mind, that maybe, she had given his child up for adoption. So his voice was a little terse, when he asked, "Julie, where is this child now? Do you know where it is?" The staggering thought crossed his mind that maybe the child had died--perhaps at birth, or maybe later. A fleeting memory of his first marriage crossed his mind--of his ex-wife who had aborted his children, rather than carry them. It had broken his heart.
She didn't answer right away. She was stunned. Did he really think she would not know where the child was?
He was prepared for the worst, so her next words had a profound effect on him.
Julie regained her composure, and she gave a ragged sigh and a hard look. "He is at home, waiting for me to return to him."
This news shocked him, but also gave him a sense of relief.
He let his breath out slowly. "So, it was a little boy, and he's living with you."
"Aye. He is your son, and mine. Where else WOULD he be?" She continued to give him a cold, hard stare.
Horatio wilted a little, under her close criticism.
"Please do not be angry with me, Horatio. I DID try to get in touch with you, but I did not know where you were, until I found you at CSI in December. And you are a lieutenant now. You have moved on--or so you said." Once again, he detected that little trace of bitterness in her voice. He chose to ignore it.
"So, he would be--seven now?"
"He is. I feel like he has been cheated out of knowing his father for the first seven years of his life."
"Yeah, I feel a little cheated too." Horatio looked away from Julie sadly. He felt deflated.
Julie spoke again. "I have told him that I would like to introduce him to his father someday, after his MOTHER grows up." Julie's voice took on a soft note. "Horatio, he knows about you. He knows your name. He knows what you look like. He keeps your picture beside his bed. He has been waiting seven years for you."
Her voice cracked a little as she added, "He--he loves you."
Horatio looked at her in amazement.
"Horatio, I am 53 years old. If I have not grown up by now, I never will."
"What--what is his name?" Horatio whispered softly.
"Tommy. That is his middle name. I named him after you, Horatio."
Horatio got a soft look in his eyes. "Julie, when can I see him?" His voice was pleading, almost a whisper. "When can I see my son?"
She answered, without any hesitation at all. "Anytime you want to. But you need to call first, so we will be there when you come."
Overwhelmed, he stared down at the floor. He felt his eyes welling up.
"So, Horatio, that is what has been bothering me. Now, I need to go." She reached for her purse with one hand, the door handle with the other.
Horatio took the keys out of the ignition, and opened his car door. "Julie, let's go back to your room, okay?"
"I thought you wanted to leave." She was astonished. "You have to work tomorrow."
"C'mon, let's go."
They walked toward her hotel room.
"Tell me about him, Julie."
She unlocked her room door, they went in, and she shut the door behind them.
She was still sniffling a little. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
Julie turned the light on, and closed the curtains. "He is a living, breathing miracle, and I thank you for giving him to me." She sighed deeply. "He is the best little souvenir I ever brought back from Florida. You asked me why you are special to me. It is because you are the father of my little boy. And he needs his father in his life. He has been too long without you."
Horatio sat himself down in the chair next to the dresser. "He is grade-school age. Is he in second grade?"
Julie threw her room key onto the dresser. "He is learning at the second grade level. I am home-teaching him. He has his lessons on weekday mornings, and he goes to daycare twice a week, so he gets to socialize with children his own age."
Talking about her son always cheered her, so she began to feel less miserable, now that the boy's father knew of his existence. "He is often afraid of the dark, so I gave him his own flashlight. He likes to be tucked into bed at night, and he will not go to sleep until I have read to him, or sang him a song, or told him a story."
Horatio was amazed, looked at Julie, and smiled broadly. He crossed his legs, and folded his arms on his chest, waiting for her to go on.
"He is about to lose his first tooth," she continued. "It is loose, but he refuses to let me pull it for him. I suppose it will fall out by itself, but he still wants to put it under his pillow, and sell it to the tooth fairy for a quarter. He can sleep through the night without having to get up to go to the bathroom."
"Mm hm. Are you sure he's mine?" Horatio was finding it hard to believe, that after all his years of wanting his own children, and his own family, he might actually have one. It seemed too good to be true.
"He is, Horatio." She moved toward the dresser, and pulled a manilla envelope off the top. "I have something to give you." She held the envelope out to him. "I was going to mail this to you where you work, but I will give it to you now."
She handed it to him, and he took it with curiosity.
"What's this?" He accepted the packet, opened the flap, and looked inside.
"My address and phone number are in here," she told him.
He lifted out the contents of the envelope. He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw the first photograph. And then he exhaled, staring at the picture. The child in the picture returned his gaze. It could have been a photo of himself at the same age.
Julie took her nightgown into the bathroom, changed, then came back out into the room. She sat down on the bed, her legs under her. "He is a very bright little boy. So curious. About everything. It is not enough for him to know that things are. He wants to know WHY things are the way they are."
Horatio had said nothing. He was enthralled with the eight photos, and a look of total enchantment had settled on his face. He was in shock. He had laid the manilla envelope on his lap, and was studying each photo. There were six eight by ten photos, and two five 5 by seven pictures, all in color.
Julie picked at one of her fingernails, and said shyly, "I hope that, when you meet him, you will fall in love with him the way I did."
He uncrossed his legs and adjusted his position in the chair, still holding the pictures and envelope. "Sweetheart," he murmured softly, "I already have."
"Do you like the pictures, then?"
He smiled, still studying the pictures. "I do. Thank you."
Julie shifted her position, and sat with her legs bent, and her arms wrapped around her legs. "If it takes me the rest of my life," she declared, "I intend to make it up to you--and him--for this long separation. All those years lost."
"I understand you tried to contact me. There is nothing to make up. Let's just move forward from here, okay?" His eyes never left the photos, and he was looking at all of them for the second time.
"Do you believe he is yours now?"
"Absolutely." He took a moment to look over to her, then turned his face down to the pictures again. He paused at one of the photos. "What do we have here? You were nursing him." It wasn't a question, it was an observation. He smiled at her, and at the same time, he felt a tug at his heart, at the thought of this woman not only carrying his child, but also nursing his child at her own breast.
He noticed something else, between two of the pictures. It was the letter Julie had written after December 2002, and she had never sent to him. It was neatly sealed with the address of the CSI Crime Lab under his name. It appeared to be ready for mailing, but lacked a stamp on it. Clearly, she had intended to mail this to him, but had not done so.
He lay the packet of photos down on the dresser, and with a quick look of puzzlement toward her, he opened the letter. He gently unfolded it, and began reading.
Julie crawled under the blankets, and smoothed them around herself. She waited, sitting up.
Horatio read the letter silently, his lips moving.
JULIE'S LETTER TO HORATIO:
February 6, 2003

Thursday

Lakeport, FL.
Dear Horatio,

I was so happy to see you again, at CSI in December. You looked as good to me then as you did when we were together in 1995.

I am such a coward. I have been so afraid to tell you about our little boy--and yet, I do remember the promise I made to you when I left.

There are not many things I regret in my life, but I deeply regret leaving you in 1995. I regret not being able to contact you about Tommy. I regret we lost touch with each other for so long. I regret not staying with you in 1995. Looking back, it would have been possible. Somehow, some way, if we had really wanted it to happen, we could have made it so. Maybe we just were not ready. So many maybees (crossed out, and re-written as maybes.) So many things that were unsaid between us. So little time.

But, that was then, and this is now, isn't it. Time has passed. You have your own family now, and I have mine.

Since I do not have the courage to tell you about your son, I think this letter is the best way to keep my promise to you, and then we can once again go our separate ways.

And now, the decision is yours. You know about Tommy now, and whether you want to know your son, and be a part of his life, or whether you would rather not, is up to you. My promise has been fulfilled, and now I can rest easier, and stop feeling guilty about not letting you know.

Something that will not change: although you may never again be my lover, you will always be my friend. You will ALWAYS be Tommy's father, and for that reason alone, I will love you forever.

You came into my life at a time when I was going through some very difficult personal changes in my life, and major decisions had to be made, decisions that did not necessarily go well with my family, but nonetheless, decisions that had to be made. Thanks to the time I shared with you, I was able to make those decisions, and thanks to your child, I was able to stay focused, and concentrate on what was really important in my life.

And so, I moved to Florida--me and Tommy (and my other children, too] --and I was able to start my life anew, although it has not been easy.

Thank you, Horatio Caine. I will always be grateful to you.

Be safe. Be happy. And I hope you will someday think of me as a fond memory.
All The Best,

Julie Ann MacGyver
He finished the letter. He folded it up, and slipped it back into the envelope. He was speechless. He stood up, and came toward her. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the letter and envelope in hand. There were tears in his eyes. He made an effort to speak, but no words came, only a deep breath.
Inadvertently, she threw open the covers on one side of the bed. He noticed it, looked at her, and said with a smile, "Well, Julie--mother--we--have had a child together--" as though he still could not believe it. His head was beginning to whirl.
"--but you have to work tomorrow," she remembered. "Will you at least stay until I am asleep?"
"Mm hm," he nodded. She saw a tenderness in his wet eyes she hadn't noticed before.
Horatio leaned toward her, with one arm resting on the bed, and he studied her in a new way.
"Can he call you daddy?" She asked him with a little uncertainty.
"Of course," he answered. "I'm his father."
He had something else on his mind. "How was the birth? The delivery--was it easy?"
She saw a look of concern on his face. "It was not. But I got a nice surprise at the end."
"How long?"
"Well, he was about eighteen inches long."
"I mean, how long were you in labor?"
"It was--about nine hours. It hurt like hell."
A smile crossed her face. "I'm told I made a lot of noise. And I am NOT a noisy person."
"No, you're not." He reached over, and took one of her hands, and held it in his. "If I had known, I could have been there with you." His eyes were like pools of blue sapphire.
"You would have come to be with me for his birth, had you known?"
"You bet. No woman should have to go through that alone."
He pulled the blanket down slowly, and lay his hand softly on her abdomen, just below her belly button. "Did you have another c-section?" He was genuinely interested.
"I did not. I was able to give birth to him naturally. It was--extraordinary." She gave him a wry smile. "Well--except for his shoulders."
"His--shoulders--?"
"He had--has--broad shoulders. Just like you, Sugar Caine. It was hard--getting his shoulders out. A lot of pushing. And such a relief when they finally came out. I was so tired."
Horatio looked at her, waiting for her to go on.
She made a circular motion with her hands. "He had to be rotated, so his shoulders could come out. The like of a corkscrew."
Horatio nodded, still a little breathless from the surprising news.
"Then, I needed to push again, so I did. It must have hurt, but I do not remember it--clearly. What I DO remember is--I could feel his little body slipping out of mine. The feeling of it was incredible. And a big relief when he was finally out." Her voice took on a note of tenderness. "He looked like a wet baby seal. He was slimy, and he was mad. I never saw such an angry baby. He was really screaming at me. And he was so afraid, I just wanted to hold him, and love him forever. He had some blood on him--but--it was MY blood. He was so--beautiful. And perfect." She breathed deeply. "And he is yet."
Horatio didn't know what to say. He lowered his eyes, blinking, and squeezed her hand in his. His eyes were unusually bright.
Julie noticed his tears, and she smiled at him with understanding. She leaned forward, and softly wiped the moisture off his cheek with her finger. "It is alright, my love," she soothed him. "You did not do anything wrong."
She leaned back onto her pillow. "I am going to stay awake. That way, you will HAVE to stay here all night," she declared.
He stood up to lay the letter back on the dresser with the manilla envelope. He pulled the chair closer to the bed, and sat down again. He took her hand in his again, and gave it a squeeze, and sat there silently, just drinking her in.
"You son-of-a-bitch--" she uttered, a dark look of anger suddenly marring her beautiful features.
He gave a start, not understanding her abrupt change in mood. "Excuse me?" He raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"You asked me where this child is now." Her gaze was accusing, and he wilted under it. "How could you?" She looked like she might cry again.
Her voice was level, low, and deadly. "Do you really think I would give your baby--our baby--away? After what we shared eight years ago? "How dare you--" Her voice shook.
"Honey, I--I--am guilty--I'm so sorry--" He blinked back a tear. "Please--please forgive me?"
Getting back her composure, she answered, "I always will." She sniffed and licked her lips.
They sat very quietly, her nodding off, and starting awake, he looking at her, emotional. The mother of his child. HIS child. It was all so fantastic--wonderful--unbelievable. Almost incomprehensible. Him a father. Finally.
Her eyes kept closing, and she tried to stay awake, focusing on him. She closed them for the final time as she sat there. He stood up, and helped her scoot down onto her back, and smoothed the covers around her.
"Nice try, angel." He stood over her, and gazed down at her sleeping form, with love in his eyes. "I'll see you again." He caught up the envelope of pictures and the letter, kissed her goodnight, turned off the light, and locked the door as he left. He drove home in a daze, feeling very high, emotionally. If he had entertained any doubts about his future before, they were gone now. WOW!! He had a son! And, a solid reason to stay in a relationship with Julie.
This change of events in his life nearly knocked him off his feet. He began to think seriously of what he was going to do about Dale. From the start, he wasn't at all sure if the relationship with Dale would last. He had envisioned it as a relationship that would probably last for a few years, and then, when Dale moved on, Horatio would be alone again. But now, because of the 'new' child in his life, he began to think of how to tell Dale that they were through.
The next day, Sunday, Horatio had to work, but he got off early, and unbeknownst to Julie, drove back to the All-Star Hotel, on the chance that she might still be there. She wasn't. She had checked out at 11:00, and was gone. He drove home. He made plans to go see his new-found family the very next weekend.
Julie's monthly periods had ceased about six months before Horatio came to her hotel room. Before that, they had been sporadic for a year. The morning after he left her, she began a heavy one--three days, with cramps.
END OF CHAPTER FIVE
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Horatio Caine's Family ~ New Beginnings