Title: Roses are Red, Horatio is Blue
Author: Tayla
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Horatio/Speed
Rating: FRT
Category: Drama and angst
Archive: Yes to WWOMB/Peja. All others please ask
Feedback: Yes, please. All constructive criticism will be graciously accepted
Authors Web Site: http://www.geocities.com/tayla36/index.html
Disclaimers: CSI:Miami and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS broadcasting company. The author makes no profit and no infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: Thanks to Bev for beta reading.
Summary: Horatio buys roses.
Warnings: This is a "Speed is Dead" fic, so it's sad and angsty.

The girl at the florist shop was exhausted. She had only been working there for a few months, and when her boss told her that Valentines Day would be worse than Christmas, she didn't quite believe him.

There were half a dozen florists in the back working on arrangements, and all three delivery vans were out, delivering the arrangements as fast as the florists could make them. They had been going non-stop since they opened at 8AM. And now finally, at 3PM there was a lull in the walk in traffic. Those that were fortunate enough to be able to leave early had already been shopping, and those that had to work a full day wouldn't be in for another couple of hours.

There was only one customer at the moment that her boss was helping him. She had just slipped into that back for a moment to use the rest room. She heard the bell over the door ring, announcing another customer. She stepped out of the back, to see a red haired man enter the store. He was tall and slender and quite pale, which was very unusual to see in the sun soaked climate of Miami. He stepped up to the counter, and removed the mirrored sun glasses revealing sad blue eyes. Also unusual. Everyone else she had waited on today had been smiling and happy.

"Can I help you?" She asked cheerfully, trying to cut through the air of despondency that surrounded the man.

"Yes, I think you can. I need to get a dozen roses."

"Did you put an order in ahead of time?"

"No I'm afraid I didn't. I wasn't going to…celebrate the day, but I've changed my mind. Is it going to be a problem?"

"No sir, not at all." She assured him and she opened the cooler behind her. It was filled with row upon row of red roses that had already been arranged into bouquets. "You did want red roses, didn't you sir? I'm assuming they're for a love interest?" She said over her shoulder, as she was already removing a bunch from one of the buckets.

"Yes." He said softly. "Red is fine." And now she could hear the sadness in his voice. It matched the sadness in his eyes.

She turned and laid the bunch on the counter. "Did you need a vase for these?"

"No, just the bouquet."

"Would you like to enclose a gift card?" she asked him, already gesturing toward the display of cards next to the register.

"No thank you. I've got that taken care of." and he tucked what appeared to be a folded piece of yellow legal paper down into the bouquet.

She rang up the sale, and the man handed her a credit card. She glanced at it, and took note of his name. Horatio. She had heard the name before. Something in Shakespeare, wasn't it? Or maybe there was an author with that name? She wasn't sure, and she was about to ask the man, but she didn't. There was something about the way he was standing there, eyes downcast, and lips in a tight thin line, which discouraged small talk.

She finished the sale, and handed him his receipt and his card. He gathered up the roses into his arms, and turned to go.

"Sir," she called, and he turned back. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to be nosy. But for a man who's buying flowers for his lover, you don't seem very happy about it."

His eyes dipped briefly downward again and he took a deep breath. When he looked up at her, his sad blue eyes were bright with unshed tears. "They're for his grave."

End