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It had been the first time in a few weeks that Horatio found him self able to have a decent sleep. It was the first time since Marisol's death he'd actually been able to be happy about sleeping.
Her death tended to haunt him like no other, even after some of the brutal slayings he had encoutered over the years for working at MDPD.
And still he'd never give his job up for anything.
The break room was silent when he entered, half thankful for the peace and quiet ,and half not. No one sitting in the break room usually meant Crime Scene.
Striding over to the pot of coffee, Horatio tested it to make sure it was still atleast luke warm before pouring him self a cup. He looked down into the styrofoam model and watched it steam before taking a small sip of the black liquid, relishing the feel of it sliding down his throat.
Quietly, he waited for a page or for someone to find him, so he could start his day and do some good in this world.
Whichever came first.
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