A/N: I can easily imagine Eric and Calleigh having a history all their own. This is actually the first story I started writing—ever— and it sort of took on a life of its own.

The beginning chapters all take place in the past, beginning with Eric's first day as a CSI. Eventually, I will pick up the "present-tense" portion of this story right after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Hopefully, I can showcase a different side to Eric and Calleigh's friendship and burgeoning romance.

Long-term project. Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 1

The quick clicking of heels reverberated off the glass walls of the Miami Dade Crime Lab as Calleigh Duquesne made her way through its halls.

It's good to be back, Calleigh thought as she surveyed her colleagues hard at work in their respective labs.

Calleigh had spent the better part of last week in Quantico, Virginia at a joint ATF-FBI ballistics conference. She'd missed the controlled chaos of the Crime Lab, the serenity of her home-away-from-home downstairs in firearms.

The sudden call of her name interrupted her thoughts. "Cal—Cal, hey, wait up. I'm out on this one with you."

Calleigh turned around to face her cohort in…non-crime… "Hey, Tim."

They were opposites in almost every way, but somehow they made it work. Actually, they made a great team, balancing each other out in the right ways, Horatio always on hand if their playful banter got out of control. She had learnt to put aside his sarcasm and sometimes questionable work ethic, and he had come to actually appreciate her Southern sass and workaholic tendencies. They were really more like brother and sister than co-workers, but that only added to their capabilities in reading crime scenes and catching criminals. Calleigh sighed. There was a new guy coming on today.

"Earth to Calleigh!" Speedle waved his free hand in front of her face, the other clutching his kit.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm here. Just thinking about the call out. Horatio told me I'd be working with the new CSI today. What's up?"

"Well, H just called, and apparently our new CSI is already on the case—he's switching from underwater recovery—"

"—and Horatio thought this might be a good transition for him. Got it. So he's already on site?"

"Yup. And you're late, and we need to roll." Speed grinned impishly as they headed to the elevator.

"I'm not late. I just flew in, changed, and headed straight here. Thank you very much," she punctuated with her Southern accent.

Speed just laughed and said, "I figured." They both smiled—Calleigh Duquesne was never late.

In the Hummer on the way to their crime scene in the Glades, Speed and Calleigh went over the case. Teresa Franklin had been reported missing three days ago by her ex-husband; he had dropped by her townhouse after she failed to pick up their two year old son for the weekend, and found it ransacked. Early this morning her car was sighted abandoned on an off road in the Glades. The canine unit found her beaten and bruised body about a mile from the car—two bullets to the back, one to the back of the skull. The only thing they had to go on was a trail of footprints the first responding officer followed to the edge of the water. Then, nothing. Horatio seemed to think that the killer disposed of the gun in the endless swamp, hence the need for a man in the water.

Calleigh stopped reading aloud from the file and sighed to herself. She looked at Speed, "Have you met him yet?"

"Who?"

"The new guy."

"Nope." He paused, "You don't seem too excited about it though. You know it'll cut down on our workload, right? We've needed another CSI on board for a long time."

She laughed at his uncharacteristic enthusiasm. "No, I don't care either way; it's just always tough to change a team's dynamic."

"Well, if he's half as good as H thinks he'll be, then we'll be just fine." Besides, Speed thought, Calleigh could get along with just about anyone. Calleigh's head whipped to look at him as he suddenly burst out laughing. "Can we just pause and savor this moment," he snorted. "Because I don't know if we'll ever have another day where I'm the optimist and you're the pessimist."

She glared at him for a second before she rolled her eyes and just laughed, too. He was right, after all.

Calleigh slid lithely out of the Hummer as they finally made it to the scene. Speed's exit was decidedly less graceful than his partner's. As they approached Horatio and Detective Salas, Calleigh noted an MDPD underwater recovery boat circling an area about fifty yards south of them. Suddenly, a head popped out of the water, then a hand bearing a water-logged pistol. Score! Something to work with.

Horatio and Yelina turned to update the CSIs on the newest developments so they could begin processing the scene, but something else grabbed Calleigh's attention. "That diver…" she trailed off.

A memory was tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She couldn't put her finger on what was bugging her—well, not bugging. Water splashing, a thrill, passion. It was a pleasant memory, but a vague one.

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but somehow her soft exclamation reached the ears of her comrades. "You know our newest CSI, Miss Duquesne?" Horatio queried. He eyed her. She was acting a bit strange. As his eyes studied her, Calleigh's eyes remained glued to the water. He swam through the murky depths, still in full gear, toward the MDPD boat. He bobbed just for a few moments before he tugged out his mouthpiece and handed up the evidence he had recovered.

Calleigh snapped back to the present, to find three pairs of curious eyes on her. She blushed furiously, "Sorry, no, I just—that's our newbie?" That memory was there, still tugging. But she didn't know any of the department's divers, so she said, "I don't know him. I just had déjà vu. Sorry. Keep going."

Horatio began to wonder how his second in command would react to the new team member, seeing the—thoughtful?—look on her face. Then he silently berated himself: Calleigh was the consummate professional, and she would welcome him with that Southern charm of hers no matter what the circumstances.

As more officers gathered, he continued, but watched her closely. The blonde CSI would have fooled anyone less observant than Horatio Caine. But he could see the distraction, the wheels of her mind turning rapidly as she snuck glances toward the water. She was still watching the diver.

"I want to tear this area apart people, scour that car from headlight to tail light, find anything to go on. He probably has an accomplice, he'd need—"

"Eric." Calleigh breathed, and everyone stopped. She had no idea that she'd just interrupted her boss, or that five or six people now stood staring at her. All she saw were the lane lines, the water churning, bodies flying. All she heard was the gun shot, the crowd, the uproar of victory. The memories flooded her, and for a brief second, she closed her eyes and let a satisfied smile cross her lips.

Speed looked at Calleigh in alarm. Was this really his partner that had returned from Quantico? Horatio followed her now open eyes, coming to rest on the aforementioned diver-turned CSI.

"Calleigh, I thought you said you didn't know him?"

His words broke through her reverie and she stared at him in shock. Where did I just go? In front of my colleagues, just lost myself in my memories? What do I say?

"I—" she began. Then it hit her like a cannonball. "I thought you said you didn't know him?" Her hand went to her forehead, the other to her hip. Breathe. Breathe. Her eyes flitted back to the water, where he was fast approaching dry land. Fast approaching her. And she couldn't say anything at all.

Horatio was at a loss. He'd known Calleigh for two years and never seen her act like this. She was totally and completely engrossed in watching the new CSI draw near the group. Tank and goggles off, he peeled back the top of his wetsuit with one hand, holding a water-filled evidence bag in the other.

Things are about to get very interesting, Horatio thought.