No Other One, Chapter 46
Title: No Other One, Chapter 46
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, and Chapter 45.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.” - Mark Twain
Though the weekend had progressed uneventfully, Yelina couldn’t help but still feel as though Ray Junior was up to something. True, he hadn’t said anything about it since Friday evening; he hadn’t come to her and asked about Kyle again. The new family member’s name hadn’t been spoken at all in the following two days.
But all of that had somehow only served to heighten Yelina’s suspicion. Because if Ray Junior wasn’t plotting, wasn’t up to something at all, then he would have continued to press her for information.
The mother was more than aware of how… odd that sounded. Any logical person would probably say that, if her son wasn’t talking about it, he had dropped the matter all together. And for many people, Yelina was sure they’d be right.
But none of them knew her son. None of them had the experience of walking in on Ray Junior rooting through her closet for Christmas presents only hours after professing that he didn’t really care.
She, however, did have that memory (it had happened this past Christmas) and knew: when her son was silent, he was doing something bad. And she would have to keep watching him to make sure her family’s life didn’t end up in the same condition (rumpled or destroyed) her clothes had when they’d gotten in Ray’s way during his gift hunt.
At the moment though, that problem was only one of many.
Having been called in by Stetler on Monday morning, Yelina was currently more worried about the “problem” with her employment that he’d mentioned. At the time, Rick had been unsurprisingly vague, probably in an attempt to make her nervous; after all, if this problem had been one that meant she was fired, he would have just told her that outright.
But standing in front of him now, Yelina almost wished he had fired her. Because there was an evil glint in his dark eyes when he said, “There’s a problem with your application.”
“So you’ve said” was her dry response.
“Before I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Stetler said, the irritation he felt obvious in his voice.
She pursed her lips before asking, “Was that before or after you decided to use my job interview to learn whether or not I had sex with my husband?”
Though he smirked, he didn’t answer her question. “But given your… recent actions, I think it’s pretty clear that your judgment can’t be trusted.”
“How ironic,” Yelina quipped, a smile playing on her full lips. “I was thinking that not dating you again would have shown improvement in that area.”
His eyes darkened in response, the irises turning a blackish color that matched his pupils. Stetler’s jaw clenched and unclenched, and he cocked his head to tell her, “You’re gonna need to pass a series of tests in order to be reinstated fully. Physical fitness, written test, exam with the gun range.”
Seeing the challenge for what it was, she placed one hand on her hip. Her eyes narrowing on him, she drawled slowly, “Not a problem.”
“One last thing, Yelina.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the urine specimen cup. “Drug test.”
Really, she should have figured he would save that for last. If anything, the brunette was surprised she hadn’t seen it coming. But rolling her eyes, she went to grab the cup. Naturally though he pulled it out of her grasp. “Down, girl,” he patronized. “It’s not that simple.”
But Yelina thought it was incredibly simple: Stetler was an ass. Still, she said nothing and waited for him to speak.
“Now that I can’t trust you -”
“Why? Because I spoke to my brother-in-law?”
Stuffing the cup back in his pocket, he retorted, “No. Because I see now that you really don’t know what’s good for you, and that makes me wonder. If you can’t ‘just say no’ to Horatio, then how can say it when someone, say your druggie husband, offers you a hit on the old bong or crack pipe?”
Yelina bit down on the inside of her mouth until she thought she might draw blood. She had never forgotten how mean he could be, but for the life of her, she hadn’t remembered just how cruel his words could be.
The things he was saying right now - they went beyond his normal unfriendly, unkind ways. He was going way passed what was acceptable, way beyond what he would say to anyone else, and bringing her husband’s problems into this. So angry with her, Stetler was resorting to tearing at her wounds with rusty spikes.
And she could forgive him for a lot, but she would never be able to do that for this. He had gone too far, and worst of all was the fact that there was no doubt in her mind that he knew what he was doing.
Yelina wanted to tell him that - that he knew better - just as much as she wanted to lash out and strangle him. But calmly, her voice like steel, she told him, “I said no to you.”
“Not until after you toyed with me for two days,” Stetler snapped back. And then more conversationally he added, “So I have to wonder what else you like to dabble in?”
“Then give me the damn cup,” she ordered, her accent thick and her words firm.
“There’s a catch,” he told her. “You ever spend time in an independent lab? They do a lot of things,” he explained. “But one of their main customers is the state - testing drug addicts on parole.” Taking the cup out of his pocket, Stetler turned it in his hands for dramatic effect. “They make sure a person goes into the bathroom with the addict, just so they know the urine they test comes from that addict.”
Connecting the dots together, Yelina asked dryly, “You want to watch? Afraid I carry about bags of other people’s urine for this very purpose?”
“Hope you properly hydrated yourself this morning” was his response, was his way of saying yes.
There were no words to describe how much she wanted to kill him at this moment. Murderous, livid, enraged - they all seemed too tame for the way her body thrummed with the desire to hurt him.
But underneath all of that, a very small part of her - the one that still contained a shred of reasoning - knew that was what he wanted.
Stetler wanted the reaction from her, wanted her ire. Because that would mean he’d gotten to her. And if he’d seen what he wanted, he would either fire her now or file away the event for later to use against her when she least expected it.
Neither was what she wanted, but particularly the latter scared her. Because if he saved this conversation in his memory, then he would hurt her whenever he saw fit to do so. And frankly, she’d rather suffer now if she had to.
And her stubbornness taking hold of her, Yelina realized that she didn’t have to suffer through this. Or maybe she did, but there was no reason she couldn’t make him just as miserable.
Deciding that was her best option, she quickly deduced that playing along would be the best thing to do. Not only because it would be the best way to keep her job, but also…
Yelina was not going to give him what he wanted.
Ever.
Shrugging dramatically, she gave him the unexpected response of “Lets go then.”
There was a look of shock on his face momentarily, before he put his arm around her elbow. As they headed towards the private bathroom not five feet away in his office, Stetler asked, “Sure you can handle it, Princess?”
Her hand on the doorknob, she raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be fine,” she told him. And as an afterthought, Yelina added, “After all, I slept with you, which really does have to be the most degrading thing I could ever do.”
His response was to shove her into the bathroom. And had she not expected the outburst of anger, she would have fallen. But as it was, she barely teetered on her heels at all. “I’m going to enjoy this,” Stetler said, leering at her, as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
It dawned on her that she was trapped, that… he could hurt her if he wanted to. And Yelina was aware that maybe she should be frightened; perhaps she should be clawing at his face for a way out.
But something inside of her - adrenaline, her own anger, stubbornness, or maybe something else all together - steeled her against any feeling of fear. Standing in front of Stetler, she was not worried, not fearful at all.
Her voice strong and cool, she placed her hands on her hips and told him, “I don’t think so.”
“Chickening out?” he asked, scoffing.
“Hardly,” Yelina drawled, taking a step closer to him. In a falsely sweet and completely patronizing tone, she told him, “But once again, darling, you’ve yet to think your little plan all the way through.”
“I have too,” he argued petulantly.
“Really? What do you expect to happen here, Rick?” Taking the specimen cup out of his hands, the brunette continued, “Do you think I’ll suddenly start behaving like a good little girl?” She smirked. “You know me better than that. Do you really believe I’ll do this for you, and that’ll be it?”
“I’m really scared, Ellie” was his sarcastic reply. “What do you think you’re gonna do to me?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Of course, a smarter man might have realized taking me to the gun range after this display of machismo was a disaster waiting to happen.”
Smirking, he asked, “You gonna shoot me with the blanks they make you use?”
Thinking quickly on her feet, Yelina replied, “Well, it’s either that or you have the unfortunate luck of ramming your skull into the gun several times.”
Literally waving her off, Stetler told her, “You’d be arrested for murdering me.”
“In this police department?” she asked. Smiling, Yelina continued, “I don’t think so. For killing you, they’d give me a medal. And you know I’m right.” The fact that he didn’t have an immediate retort only bolstered that belief, so she asked him, “So. If you want me to take this test, fine. But you should know that I will not -”
“Then we won’t go to the gun range,” he snapped.
Shaking her head, she asked him, “You think I can’t find some other way?”
They fell into a short silence then. And standing together in the bathroom all alone, Yelina couldn’t help but think how… bizarre and stupid this was. That things should so quickly deteriorate into death threats and humiliation was quite frankly sad and yet completely natural when it came to them as a pairing.
And maybe Stetler was thinking the same thing, because he nodded his head then slowly. “Fine,” he told her, opening the bathroom door again.
Tossing the specimen cup into the trashcan, Yelina stepped outside into the brighter area of his office. Sighing as quietly as she could, she couldn’t help but feel relieved and somehow… pleased at winning this part (for there was sure to be more) of the argument. Not merely because she Stetler had lost, not just because it meant she still had her job, she understood. Those things were important, but they were not the sole reason for her burgeoning sense of joy.
Rather, as odd as it sounded, it was the knowledge of knowing that she’d been able to solve a problem. That there were still some things she could control and not be forced to accept was… nice and unfortunately so uncommon in her life these days.
Though it was obvious Stetler had not intended to make her feel better, bizarrely… in his own way, he had. And she was not surprised by the confused face he made, when she turned, smiling, and asked, “What’s next?”
End (47/??)
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, and Chapter 45.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.” - Mark Twain
Though the weekend had progressed uneventfully, Yelina couldn’t help but still feel as though Ray Junior was up to something. True, he hadn’t said anything about it since Friday evening; he hadn’t come to her and asked about Kyle again. The new family member’s name hadn’t been spoken at all in the following two days.
But all of that had somehow only served to heighten Yelina’s suspicion. Because if Ray Junior wasn’t plotting, wasn’t up to something at all, then he would have continued to press her for information.
The mother was more than aware of how… odd that sounded. Any logical person would probably say that, if her son wasn’t talking about it, he had dropped the matter all together. And for many people, Yelina was sure they’d be right.
But none of them knew her son. None of them had the experience of walking in on Ray Junior rooting through her closet for Christmas presents only hours after professing that he didn’t really care.
She, however, did have that memory (it had happened this past Christmas) and knew: when her son was silent, he was doing something bad. And she would have to keep watching him to make sure her family’s life didn’t end up in the same condition (rumpled or destroyed) her clothes had when they’d gotten in Ray’s way during his gift hunt.
At the moment though, that problem was only one of many.
Having been called in by Stetler on Monday morning, Yelina was currently more worried about the “problem” with her employment that he’d mentioned. At the time, Rick had been unsurprisingly vague, probably in an attempt to make her nervous; after all, if this problem had been one that meant she was fired, he would have just told her that outright.
But standing in front of him now, Yelina almost wished he had fired her. Because there was an evil glint in his dark eyes when he said, “There’s a problem with your application.”
“So you’ve said” was her dry response.
“Before I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Stetler said, the irritation he felt obvious in his voice.
She pursed her lips before asking, “Was that before or after you decided to use my job interview to learn whether or not I had sex with my husband?”
Though he smirked, he didn’t answer her question. “But given your… recent actions, I think it’s pretty clear that your judgment can’t be trusted.”
“How ironic,” Yelina quipped, a smile playing on her full lips. “I was thinking that not dating you again would have shown improvement in that area.”
His eyes darkened in response, the irises turning a blackish color that matched his pupils. Stetler’s jaw clenched and unclenched, and he cocked his head to tell her, “You’re gonna need to pass a series of tests in order to be reinstated fully. Physical fitness, written test, exam with the gun range.”
Seeing the challenge for what it was, she placed one hand on her hip. Her eyes narrowing on him, she drawled slowly, “Not a problem.”
“One last thing, Yelina.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the urine specimen cup. “Drug test.”
Really, she should have figured he would save that for last. If anything, the brunette was surprised she hadn’t seen it coming. But rolling her eyes, she went to grab the cup. Naturally though he pulled it out of her grasp. “Down, girl,” he patronized. “It’s not that simple.”
But Yelina thought it was incredibly simple: Stetler was an ass. Still, she said nothing and waited for him to speak.
“Now that I can’t trust you -”
“Why? Because I spoke to my brother-in-law?”
Stuffing the cup back in his pocket, he retorted, “No. Because I see now that you really don’t know what’s good for you, and that makes me wonder. If you can’t ‘just say no’ to Horatio, then how can say it when someone, say your druggie husband, offers you a hit on the old bong or crack pipe?”
Yelina bit down on the inside of her mouth until she thought she might draw blood. She had never forgotten how mean he could be, but for the life of her, she hadn’t remembered just how cruel his words could be.
The things he was saying right now - they went beyond his normal unfriendly, unkind ways. He was going way passed what was acceptable, way beyond what he would say to anyone else, and bringing her husband’s problems into this. So angry with her, Stetler was resorting to tearing at her wounds with rusty spikes.
And she could forgive him for a lot, but she would never be able to do that for this. He had gone too far, and worst of all was the fact that there was no doubt in her mind that he knew what he was doing.
Yelina wanted to tell him that - that he knew better - just as much as she wanted to lash out and strangle him. But calmly, her voice like steel, she told him, “I said no to you.”
“Not until after you toyed with me for two days,” Stetler snapped back. And then more conversationally he added, “So I have to wonder what else you like to dabble in?”
“Then give me the damn cup,” she ordered, her accent thick and her words firm.
“There’s a catch,” he told her. “You ever spend time in an independent lab? They do a lot of things,” he explained. “But one of their main customers is the state - testing drug addicts on parole.” Taking the cup out of his pocket, Stetler turned it in his hands for dramatic effect. “They make sure a person goes into the bathroom with the addict, just so they know the urine they test comes from that addict.”
Connecting the dots together, Yelina asked dryly, “You want to watch? Afraid I carry about bags of other people’s urine for this very purpose?”
“Hope you properly hydrated yourself this morning” was his response, was his way of saying yes.
There were no words to describe how much she wanted to kill him at this moment. Murderous, livid, enraged - they all seemed too tame for the way her body thrummed with the desire to hurt him.
But underneath all of that, a very small part of her - the one that still contained a shred of reasoning - knew that was what he wanted.
Stetler wanted the reaction from her, wanted her ire. Because that would mean he’d gotten to her. And if he’d seen what he wanted, he would either fire her now or file away the event for later to use against her when she least expected it.
Neither was what she wanted, but particularly the latter scared her. Because if he saved this conversation in his memory, then he would hurt her whenever he saw fit to do so. And frankly, she’d rather suffer now if she had to.
And her stubbornness taking hold of her, Yelina realized that she didn’t have to suffer through this. Or maybe she did, but there was no reason she couldn’t make him just as miserable.
Deciding that was her best option, she quickly deduced that playing along would be the best thing to do. Not only because it would be the best way to keep her job, but also…
Yelina was not going to give him what he wanted.
Ever.
Shrugging dramatically, she gave him the unexpected response of “Lets go then.”
There was a look of shock on his face momentarily, before he put his arm around her elbow. As they headed towards the private bathroom not five feet away in his office, Stetler asked, “Sure you can handle it, Princess?”
Her hand on the doorknob, she raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be fine,” she told him. And as an afterthought, Yelina added, “After all, I slept with you, which really does have to be the most degrading thing I could ever do.”
His response was to shove her into the bathroom. And had she not expected the outburst of anger, she would have fallen. But as it was, she barely teetered on her heels at all. “I’m going to enjoy this,” Stetler said, leering at her, as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
It dawned on her that she was trapped, that… he could hurt her if he wanted to. And Yelina was aware that maybe she should be frightened; perhaps she should be clawing at his face for a way out.
But something inside of her - adrenaline, her own anger, stubbornness, or maybe something else all together - steeled her against any feeling of fear. Standing in front of Stetler, she was not worried, not fearful at all.
Her voice strong and cool, she placed her hands on her hips and told him, “I don’t think so.”
“Chickening out?” he asked, scoffing.
“Hardly,” Yelina drawled, taking a step closer to him. In a falsely sweet and completely patronizing tone, she told him, “But once again, darling, you’ve yet to think your little plan all the way through.”
“I have too,” he argued petulantly.
“Really? What do you expect to happen here, Rick?” Taking the specimen cup out of his hands, the brunette continued, “Do you think I’ll suddenly start behaving like a good little girl?” She smirked. “You know me better than that. Do you really believe I’ll do this for you, and that’ll be it?”
“I’m really scared, Ellie” was his sarcastic reply. “What do you think you’re gonna do to me?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Of course, a smarter man might have realized taking me to the gun range after this display of machismo was a disaster waiting to happen.”
Smirking, he asked, “You gonna shoot me with the blanks they make you use?”
Thinking quickly on her feet, Yelina replied, “Well, it’s either that or you have the unfortunate luck of ramming your skull into the gun several times.”
Literally waving her off, Stetler told her, “You’d be arrested for murdering me.”
“In this police department?” she asked. Smiling, Yelina continued, “I don’t think so. For killing you, they’d give me a medal. And you know I’m right.” The fact that he didn’t have an immediate retort only bolstered that belief, so she asked him, “So. If you want me to take this test, fine. But you should know that I will not -”
“Then we won’t go to the gun range,” he snapped.
Shaking her head, she asked him, “You think I can’t find some other way?”
They fell into a short silence then. And standing together in the bathroom all alone, Yelina couldn’t help but think how… bizarre and stupid this was. That things should so quickly deteriorate into death threats and humiliation was quite frankly sad and yet completely natural when it came to them as a pairing.
And maybe Stetler was thinking the same thing, because he nodded his head then slowly. “Fine,” he told her, opening the bathroom door again.
Tossing the specimen cup into the trashcan, Yelina stepped outside into the brighter area of his office. Sighing as quietly as she could, she couldn’t help but feel relieved and somehow… pleased at winning this part (for there was sure to be more) of the argument. Not merely because she Stetler had lost, not just because it meant she still had her job, she understood. Those things were important, but they were not the sole reason for her burgeoning sense of joy.
Rather, as odd as it sounded, it was the knowledge of knowing that she’d been able to solve a problem. That there were still some things she could control and not be forced to accept was… nice and unfortunately so uncommon in her life these days.
Though it was obvious Stetler had not intended to make her feel better, bizarrely… in his own way, he had. And she was not surprised by the confused face he made, when she turned, smiling, and asked, “What’s next?”
End (47/??)