Chapter Text
Horatio 'H' Caine stalked down a darkened street, gazing at the graffiti decorating the brick walls as he passed it. A plain white tee tucked into faded black jeans, a pair of old black tennis shoes, and a used black joggers jacket with hood were the clothes he wore tonight.
It didn't matter how he dressed though, and didn't matter where he went he always managed to stand out with his full head of carrot-top, sherbert and slightly wavy hair with dark and troubled blue eyes and pale skin.
Tonight he was on a haunting, one of the least likely places he'd be found unless on a case. Months ago a case had gone cold. They all knew who done it, but as much as they milked the evidence it simply would not play the fat lady and sing for them. So the murderer had walked.
Horatio had promised the man he would make his life a living hell until they found their evidence, or until he got his confession. Tonight was a night Horatio felt like spooking. The killer was goth, and a frequent at the club Horatio now found himself entering.
From her position behind the microphone onstage, Anya watched the stranger enter the club. It was hard not to, seeing that he was wearing street clothes instead of the black leathers, wine velvets, and liberal laces that were favored. And his attitude was just different from most of the bar. He had to be a cop, or a detective, or someone who was going to find out quickly that he was in way over his head.
She was so deep in contemplation that she almost missed her cue to resume singing when the bridge ended. Covering her vocal misstep well, she resumed her ode to darkness, her sultry voice caressing every note. But she kept an eye on the red headed stranger, her curiosity piqued. This was the last song of her set, and she'd be able to indulge in that curiosity shortly.
crowded and the lighting wasn't the best. He found himself quickley looking away, scanning the crowds for some one familiar. Knowing that even if he never found his man (would he even recognize him?!), he had probobly already been spotted by him.
Sticking to the walls he avoided eye contact but could easily see and recall faces as he slipped along to a darker portion of the floor. A sudden shadow, of many, bumped up against him with purpose and he turned to meet a cold and daring set of ambers glaring into his blues.
"Hey Phil," his lips smiled but his eyes did not. He met the gaze dead-on and waited patiently just as he had done countless times on the case.
Finally, shifting his weight and leaning with one hand against the wall, the other on his hip: "Something you want to tell me?" Each word precisely executed, as though Phil was daft.
With a grunt Phil turned away and disapeared once more. Horatio made sure to keep him within sight, knowing Phil was once a bully and even as an adult had often encouraged his cronies to come to his defense with dire outcomes.
Her song finished, Anya sauntered offstage and wove through the dancer on the floor over to the bar. Ordering her customary post-set glass of red wine, she turned to observe the crowd. The red headed man was challenging a regular, one she had seen many times. One that gave her a bad feeling. And to give Anya a bad feeling was something that took a lot. Phil was unstable and unpredictable, and with the unknown of the cop, even more dangerous.
Feeling that she should probably do something before a fight broke out, Anya turned to the bartender. The vampire owner didn't appreciate violence on his establishment, given that it was neutral ground for the various vampire clans. She wasn't a vampire, and usually vampires wouldn't consider most shapeshifters a friend, but Bubasti were a noted exception. That and she was a good draw for business. "Rick, send the mundane over there a glass of wine with my compliments." Watching the bartender nod and go off to do her bidding, Anya sat back on the stool and waited to see what happened.
It had clearly been enough to upset Phil, but so far he wasn't making any moves. Still, Horatio figured it enough for tonight and made a note to catch him alone, after work or at home... "From the singer," a voice and glass of wine interrupted his thoughts and vision as the bartender siddled up to him. A gesture told him where to look for the singer as he took the glass.
He suspected, his line of work always made him careful. And now he was wondering if this was Phil's doing. Slip him a mickey from a pretty female? Still... he was sure she had been staring at him from on stage. He made his way over without yet touching his lips to the glass, some conversation might ease the wine onto his tongue.
He sat next to Anya, the glass on the bar as he looked her up and down. "Guy like me doesn't come here often, much less get a drink from a woman like you." He waited.
"Tell, me about it," Anya said. She eyed the cop up and down as she took a slow sip from her glass, assessing him. Not Kindred, not Mage, and not of any of the Changing Breeds. Pity he was dressed as such a straight arrow. It could have been nice to have some fun with him. "I'm just going to offer you a bit of advice. Be careful who you upset in here. Some of the patrons have a mean streak, and the owner doesn't take kindly to people who pick fights. No matter how well they are deserved."
"Not here to pick fights. Just to remind some one I'm still alive and kicking and haven't forgotten him. I've seen the mean streak of that some one. I know it all too well."
He picked up his glass and drew a fast drink. She was eyeing him as much, if not more, that he was looking her over. His mouth drew a silent 'mmm'.
"You have plans for the rest of the night?" He was never one to hesitate, no matter what it was. His instincts didn't only speak to him when on a case.
"You're looking at them," she said, gesturing with the half empty glass. "That was my last set." She had the distinct feeling that she was being propositioned, which was mildly surprising. It wasn't unusual for patrons to try to gain access attention or to her bedroom. But she hadn't expected it to be the cop.
"So what exactly do you have in mind?" she asked. It could be interesting to see how he reacted if she did say yes. Some people made their moves and then quickly backed down when they realized they were quickly getting in over their heads.
He wasn't sure what he had in mind exactly, just to see where things went though he knew where he hoped they ended up. That was her last set. "You and me," he said bluntly, then leaned toward her while leaning on the bar so his voice wouldn't be overheard or carry where he didn't want it to.
"Some drinks and some place quiet, alone. Whatever you want." His eyes were dead serious, with perhaps a touch of a challenge in the dark blues. He stayed leaning on the bar, unblinking as he waited for her answer.
Anya chuckled softly. "It's been a while since anyone has been so direct with me," she said with an amused grin. She looked him up and down one last time, coming to a decision. No matter how it turned out, this evening would be entertaining.
"Before I tell you where we're going," she said, running a black painted manicured nail around the rim of her glass. "I'll need to know your name. So I'll know what to scream out."
"Horatio," he straightened up with a slight smirk. Tonight was going to prove far more interesting than he had planned. Finishing his glass with another drink.
"And your name? I can't promise any screaming though you look like you can make me if you really want to. And I think you really want to."
Anya gave him a wicked smile. "Trust me Horatio," she said, tasting his name like the fine wine she was drinking. "Anya Z can make you scream in many ways." Not all of them would be the way he wanted though. Her other forms had that affect on people.
"My apartment is about a five minute's walk from here. So if you're done harassing the regulars..." she trailed off with an arched eyebrow.
"For tonight, Anya," he agreed with a smile and was already wondering in what many way she would make him scream. He was going to be a sore and exhausted investigator when he returned to work in a few days. But it was always worth it.
Standing he offered her his hand. He had many sides, the one that was most often present was his loyal, doting, right-side-of-the-law protective gentlemen. And despite what they were off to explore, he saw no reason that part of him should quit. His many sides got along fine.
Anya arched an eyebrow in surprise, but accepted his hand as she stood up. With a wave to the bartender, she started to lead him out of the club. She ignored some of the smirks and surprised looks from the club regulars.
Once outside in the velvet night's air, she turned to look at Horatio. "So," Anya said with that speculative gleam back in her eye. "Are you willing to walk or do you want to drive?" She normally walked, having no fear of the streets after dark. She hadn't been attacked yet, and woe be to the first person who tried.
"We'll walk," he hadn't driven any where near this place, but had taken a very long detour from his usual jogging route. The night didn't bother him, and he hardley saw his team of investigators huddled over his body trying to solve HIS case.
He turned his dark blues towards her and licked his lips. A five minute walk could be fairly long, he wondered, already feeling sensations beginning to stir.
He pulled her closer, releasing her hand to wrap it about her abdomen as they walked hip to hip now. "Unless you think of something better than walking."
This man was bold, and she liked that. She didn't resist as he pulled her a little closer. "Walking will be fine for the moment." Although it couldn't be said that she walked. She sauntered with a fluid movement and a gracefulness that was reminiscent of a feline.
It would be a few minutes walk to her place, and Anya was curious. "So why were you harassing one of the regulars? What did he do?" That was the only reason that she could think of Horatio being in the bar. She always liked to get information. You never knew when what tidbit could prove useful.
Horatio considered her question for a few steps in silence. He shouldn't reveal too much simply because he should not discuss cases outside of the CSI teams.
He noted the fluidity of her movements as they walked, pressed to one another. Though not exactly graceful, he walked with purpose and destination.
"His case went cold. With a bit more encouragement it won't be so cold any more." Was all he said, leaving it up to her to figure it out. Though it revealed more about him than he had cared to, it was simple enough.
Anya shook her head, the pale moonlight glimmering on the chain connecting the ring on her nostril to her ear. "Secrets have a way of being found out," she said. "Especially in the face of one so persistent."
She turned and guided him up a set of stairs and into an apartment building. And then it was up three flights of stairs to her apartment. She opened a nondescript door with the number 313 on it. "After you," she said.
Inside was a room done in creams and accented with dark woods, giving it an Egyptian flair. Small statuary of Bast, Anubis, and Horus decorated shelves, peeking out between dark leather bound volumes. Her library wasn't as large as many Bubasti's, but she argued quality over quantity. And overwatching it all was a print of a section of the Book of the Dead.
"So, Horatio," she said in a silky voice. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
The room was a bit of a shock, though pleasant nonetheless. Horatio had an eye for art and easily admired the Egyptian decor. Though he knew it was much more than decor to Anya.
"Whatever you'll have is fine," he said, running a finger tip along the Anubis' ear before turning to join her, a hand along the small of her back.
He wasn't particularly thirsty, though it would be an enhancement in the swift dance they were stepping to. The hand along her back for this moment was as far as he'd go. He rarely forgot his manners in such a dance, despite where it was leading.
Anya, still wearing a mysterious smile, moved to the kitchen. "I hope beer is okay," she said, pulling out two glasses and two cans. She poured them and then sauntered back over to where Horatio was standing. "They claim that they're basing it off of an ancient Egyptian recipe, but I have my doubts. Cheers," she said as she clinked her glass with his.
"May I ask you something, Horatio?" she said, looking at him over the edge of her glass. "You don't seem the type to just pick someone up in a bar, let alone a goth bar. Or have I read you wrong?"
Horatio took a pull from the glass, giving it an appreciating glance before looking up at her. His gaze was always determined, calculating and he rarely moved his eyes from here to there too fast. "No. You got it right."
With a slight raising of his brows he glanced back to the Anubis. "I don't have time for bars unless there's a body involved. And let's just say work has kept me from the picking-up part." Though he had a woman here and there, they always seemed few and far between and not what he was looking for.
His work life and love life where not things he looked to go hand in hand. He wanted very different things for his love life than the work life offered.
"What else do you see about me?" he asked with a slight tilt to his head, placing a hand on the wall behind her and setting aside his glass to place that hand on his cocked hip as he stood face to face with her.
Her cool appraising glance slid up and down his body once more. "I see a man who is dedicated to his work. But one who leads a lonely life." Anya started to walk in circle around him. "A man who needs to let go and throw caution to the wind."
Completing her slow circuit around him, Anya stopped in front of him. Her green eyes seemed to speak volumes even though she said only a few words. One hand came up to rest on each shoulder. "And I am the person who can give that to you. If you trust me."
Horatio lowered his chin but held her gaze, considering her words. "I don't have reason to trust you, but I did start this for a reason." Lieing to himself, he really had no idea why he had decided to start this part of his life up again.
He had settled into work, and though it wasn't 'routine', perhaps he finally felt comfortable enough with it to allow his life away from it to grow again.
"Let's see if you can gain my trust," he raised his chin at that, as if a challenge.
Anya's eyes narrowed as she smiled in amusement. Little did he know that few people trusted her, and wisely so. She held her secrets, was prided for her discretion, but people usually found her somewhat offsetting. Perhaps it was part of her Bubasti heritage. Perhaps it had to do with her tattoo and her piercings.
Her hands came up to rest on his chest. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she said. "I can read it in the way you carry yourself." Her hands moved slowly up and down, caressing his muscles. She placed her lips near his ear. "Relax. I'll take care of you."
"Too long," he said lowly, turning his head slightly to look at her. He wasn't sure he could relax, she was seeing straight through him. And the walls he had built around himself he had not even felt until now, not truly.
His attitude... even the way he spoke. It came rushing into his mind with sudden jolts. He hadn't been this way a few years ago and he wondered what exactly had put those walls there between him and the people he wanted most. The wall was preventing him from most of the actions his heart told him it yearned after.
It was time to at least try. Her promises were too much for him to not. Her breath and words so close to his ear made him want to shiver, another thing he realized he was successfully hiding from himself and her, as if he was paralized.
Placing a hand over hers he felt his heart pulsing, something not so easily hidden. "Say it again," he whispered, obeying his heart with hesitent steps as his eyes lowered to her lips.
Anya turned her head so she could blow against his ear lightly. "Relax," she whispered again. "I'll take care of you." Her thumbs slipped around so she could rub them against his hands.
She leaned a bit closer, inhaling his scent. He smelled innocent compared to many of the others she dealt with. And he was - he was human. She had worked so long in the underside of the club scene, dealt with vampires and Bastet and other creatures of the night, she had forgotten the simple pleasures of being with a human.
Standing up on her tiptoes, she lightly brushed her lips across his, waiting to see his reaction.
Horatio released a slight sigh as she inhaled his scent. It had been too long since he'd heard the faint sound of a woman do that around him.
He felt tense muscles shift as her lips brushed his, looking down into her dark greens. Bringing a hand up between her shoulder blades, fingers curling slightly as they met and tangled in her silky hair before pressing. He parted his lips, his kiss gentle at first, seeking and unsure.
A good eight inches taller than her he bent lower for her, feeling the flesh-warmed metal of her piercings grazing against his cheek and jaw.
He tasted almost innocent. Although it seemed that he knew what he was doing, he was just out of practice. Anya let her lips part, encouraging him onwards. She was more than willing to let him have control for the moment.
Letting her hands slip around to his chest, she started to run her hands up and down his chest, learning his muscles. Anya smiled into the kiss and then pulled back slightly. "Shall we move this to the bedroom?" she asked.
A slight spark to his dark eyes, perhaps like a flame trying to emerge from ash, told her all she needed to know in answer. Stooping slightly he lifted her from behind her legs, both hands holding her straddling his hips beneath her thighs.
"Lead the way," he said, anticipation and the first real hint of yearning in his voice. He didn't wait for directions, finding the door next to the kitchenette. The decor similar to the room he had just left, all of the eyes in the room... he shook the thought fast.
Setting her on the bed he kneeled half way to the floor as if in worship, drawing her lips down with his in a seeking kiss. His hands resting on her thighs rubbed upward.
While in his arms Anya squirmed against his torso, liking what she was feeling her legs wrapped around. This human was a mystery - one moment bold and forward, the next shy and hesitant. It would take a long time to unravel the secrets of this one.
And it was time to start revealing one secret - namely what was hiding beneath those street clothes. Pushing the jogger's jacket off his shoulders, Anya traced her hands over his arms, learning the curves of his muscles, before she started to pull the plain white t-shirt over his head.
Aiding her to rid of his shirt Horatio let it drop to the floor beside him, revealing his lean and muscled upper torso. Seemingly without an ounce an fat his muscles were long and thin, not bulging but not scrawny. The result of often putting his own body to the limit with sheer stress, he barely kept his muscle mass where it was at times.
Feeling the material of the skin-fit catsuite beneath his palms Horatio ran his hands up her thighs to the inward curve of her abdomen sides and around to her back. Beneath her long strands of jet black he felt the end of the zipper and followed it up to the little zipper-flag.
Placing one knee on the bed next to her he half straddled her lap as he eased the zipper down her curving spine, his eyes on hers as he did so and finally revealing more and more desire within their depths.
Her hands were tracing down his body, following the curves of muscles. Anya did lean back so she could peel her arms out of the upper part of her suit. But teasingly, she kept the bodice tucked against her chest, leaving it for him to remove.
Then her nimble fingers went back to work. Teasingly, she stroked down his wiry muscles, lightly tickling him, and then went to work on unbuttoning his fly
Her tickling touch drew half held sighs from him, sounds he couldn't restrain. Bending close he inched the catsuite down above her breasts with his teeth, his hands learning the shape of her arms as she unzipped him.
Abandoning the suite to kiss along her flesh with tongue and teeth he reached up with one hand to peel the suite down to her lap in one slow motion. Kissing the valley between her breasts his helping hand cupped one, gently kneading the curve pressed in his palm.
Unzipped the pants still clung tightly around his hips, a bit too tightly in one area. Preoccupied, he left them for her to deal with.
"Mmmmmrrrrrmmmm..." Anya arched forward into his touch, feeling her nipple harden. One hand slipped up to guide his hand to his head and guide it over to her other nipple, squirming in impatience.
Her other hand continued to tug at his pants, pulling them down and out of the way. Then she got to work on his boxers, which Anya was pleased to see a sizable bulge in them. Teasingly, she ran her fingertip along the length of him.
Inhaling sharply as she ran her fingertip along his length his hips instinctively moved to her touch, following it with a short thrust. The surprised gasp and moan vibrated against her flesh where his mouth pressed.
His lips moved further south, blowing cool air across a nipple before taking it between his lips to run a moist tongue across it's hardened attention.
His hand did as obeyed, taking the nipple between thumb and index to roll, tug, twist, and pinch. He did this gently at first and then harder until pleasure came from the sharp pain.
Anya's purr became a constant rumble in the background. Her hips started a slow roll against his lap, her fingers lightly teasing over his length. The ache in her nipples was echoed by a throb in her pelvis.
Her fingers curved around his cock, slowly traveling up and down. She gently squeezed, measuring both length and girth and let out a pleased smile.
Releasing a sigh with a whispering "aaaah..." Horatio laid his head on her breast, feeling each touch and stroke of her hand along his length. The vibration of her purr caused a slight confusion. He knew the sound, given practice, was easy to make but it sounded so catlike and too unhuman.
Setting both feet on the floor once more his knees leaned into the side of the mattress. Much as he was enjoying her skillfull hands he pushed her shoulder down to the bed with gentle pressure. Reaching down he lifted her hips to finish peeling off the catsuite.
His lips and tongue tasted every new inch of newly exposed flesh, his hands continue down past her legs as his mouth haulted a few inches below her navel to inhale her scent.
Anya gently ran her nails through his hair, her purr intensifying. Her other touch also shifted so her nails teasingly scratched him. He hadn't batted an eye at her piercings or her tattoos, which made her wonder exactly what he would bat an eye at.
She could think of one thing, and it might be fun to see if he could handle it.
"Horatio," she purred softly. "How well can you keep a secret?"
Blowing cool air on her pierced navel Horatio smiled. "Anya, my job is about keeping secrets... I do it too well." He took the piercing between his teeth, flicking his tongue over it and tugging gently.
Running hands up her thighs either side of him he rested his chin on her stomach. "You need to tell me something?"
"It's something you don't need to know, but I want you to..." She wasn't sure why she was going to show him this. "There is more to me than meets the eye." She gestured towards the statues of Bast, Sekhmet and Seti. "I am one of a rare and ancient breed. I am what is known as a Bastet Bubasti - a shapeshifter."
Eyes narrowed, she issued an ultimatum. "Do not hide the need to laugh, nor waste words trying to reason with my 'insanity.' If you wish to continue this, I will show you my true nature. Otherwise, dress and leave at once."
Horatio wasn't sure to make of it, but he wasn't one to laugh easily, and usually kept his inner thoughts private. Giving her a level gaze as he lifted his chin from her abdomen he studeied her face for a moment and thought of her words, the tone... there was nothing to suggest insanity, though she was clearly hiding something. He thought it a trick, a play on words perhaps and tilted his head at her.
"Show me," he said simply, without any hint of laughter or sarcasm. He didn't inch from his position but didn't restrain her in hers. His face wasn't skeptical, he had learned long ago how to hide his emotions from people he wasn't sure of.
He had the bravery of a lion and the curiosity of a cat, something Anya strongly approved. She pulled her legs from out from underneath him, needing plenty of room to shapshift. Staring at him she called upon the cat within.
It started with her ears. They grew pointed as the black of her tattoo became lost in fur appearing on her skin. Her body lengthened as her cheekbones became more pronounced and her chin shrank. Nails became claws as a long black tail appeared.
But she only paused a second there before continuing her transformation. Her body now began to shrink into something smaller, though still thin and angular. Although her breed was supposed to be of the extinct kyphurs, she looked more like a caracal with black fur. Where a woman had sat, now a thin black cat with wide green eyes and a chain connecting its nose and ear stared back unblinking.
At first Horatio wasn't sure what he was seeing. Then he thought it some magic trick, or hologram. But as her body began shrinking he felt a cold prickling along his arms and neck beneath the skin as his mind slowly reeled.
Taking in the cat with an unbelieving stare his eyes flashed left and right, expecting to see Anya standing in the corner and laughing or grinning at the trick she just performed. Then he registered the chain.
"Fuck!" He flung himself from the bed, back pedaling until something stopped him, painfully. He was panicing, his breathing was fast and eratic as he tried to push against whatever was behind him. "No! Fuck no!" He stumbled for the door, eyes never leaving the cat. "Anya?" As if calling for her to come in from outside and get rid of this... cat with her piercing.