Title: The Phone Call
Author: Bj Jones
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They are owned by various executives, producers, studios and writers who have more lawyers on retain than I ever want to mess with. Not making any money and promise to return them....some day.
Beta: Lynn (Janet)
Summary: Horatio gets a wrong number.
Series: Escort Service
Genre: Slash
Challenge: Lover 100 – Horatio/Speed
Prompt: # 86 - Voice
Word Count: 885

~*~

Horatio slumped down into his reading chair with a contented sigh. It had been a long day, hell a long week. The case had been solved, and he was off the pager for at least the next two days. His main goal for the next couple of days was to do nothing. Maybe work in the garden, read, sleep...

He glared at the house phone. If work had needed him, they would have called his cell. Usually if he got called at home, it was probably someone he didn't want to talk to.

"Better not be salesmen…" he grumbled picking up the phone. "May I help you?" His one rule at home, was never to state his name when answering his phone, too many old enemies trying to find him.

'Oh god...I...'

Horatio groaned inwardly, this was starting to become annoying. Ever since he had gotten the new phone number, he kept getting calls that were supposed to be for a male escort service. He really needed to change his number. "Look...."

'I'm sorry. I've never done this and ... This was a big mistake... I'm sorry.'

Something in the man's voice made him pause; this wasn't the average caller looking to get laid. There was something deep and painful laced into the caller's voice. "What's your name?"

There was a stretch of silence, for a moment Horatio had thought he had lost the caller. 'Tim... how does this work?'

"What are you looking for?" Horatio couldn't believe he was doing this. Most of the time, he politely told the callers that they had gotten the wrong number and hung up, but something was stopping him.

'Honestly, I have no idea. I just don't want to be alone tonight.'

Horatio leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the pain he could hear in the soft voice. "What's your type?"

A dry sarcastic laugh turned to a sharp sob. 'Anything but blonde.'

"Older? Tall?" The redhead asked as he headed up his stairs. If he was going to play the part of an escort he would need to look it.

'How do I explain this... hell maybe this wasn't a good idea.'

He dropped his voice into a low husky tone, playing the part. "We all have needs. Tell me what you want, need."

'Someone to make me forget I'm alone. I don't want a party boy or anything kinky... just normal.'

"We have the perfect person for you," Horatio grabbed a pen and paper off his dresser. "Where do you want him delivered?"

Another long pause, and fear coursed through his veins. Instinct told him, if he didn't find Tim tonight, he would find him on Ryan's autopsy table. As the silence lingered Horatio seriously contemplated getting the call traced.

'Regency Hotel, room 897. Do I give you my credit card number?'

"No. That will be taken care of when he arrives. We like to make sure the client is happy with the merchandise before purchase." Horatio said smoothly. He had no idea how an escort service ran, but it sounded plausible. And he sure as hell didn't want Stetler to find out that he actually was paid for sex…

'Okay... ahhh well bye I guess.'

Horatio tossed the phone on to his bed and looked into the mirror. "Horatio, what the hell are you thinking?" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “No use fretting now."

After a quick shower, he dressed in an old worn pair of jeans that molded to his body, a soft denim button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top four buttons undone, and a pair of dark boots. He grabbed a small bag, slipping in his cell and back up piece; one could never be too careful. He paused for a second before grabbing the lube and condoms he had in his nightstand, and before he could reconsider, grabbed the keys to his car, and headed out to the garage. He pulled the cover off the '66 Mustang convertible; it wasn't like he could take the Hummer.

Thirty minutes later Horatio pulled up to the Regency, stepped out of the car and gave the valet a smile. "Not a scratch on her."

"Yes, sir." The valet drooled over the vehicle.

Horatio moved through the lobby, putting confidence in his stride as if he belonged at the prestigious hotel, and wasn't really going to a room and offer up ... He stepped into the elevator and hit the eighth floor button. What was he going to do when he got to the room? Offer up sex and comfort? Horatio took a deep breath and stepped off the elevator. He was flying by the seat of his pants; he'd just have to see where it led him next.

He knocked on the door and waited.