Authors note: Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at CSI- Miami fanfiction. So if I do something horrible, or totally off cannon, please forgive me! The idea for this story simply came to me, and I have been flying by the seat of my pants ever since.

Review: Yes Please!

Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own any of the plot, characters, etc. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

A/N: I am not going to pretend that Speed didn't die, as much as I would like to. So this is set at the time when he was still alive, and is based on his and Cynthia Wells (The Questionable Documents Technician) Based on their interaction during those episodes they starred on together. She struck me as being, outwardly like him, quiet and a little repressed, but when you dig deeper, you discover a hidden wild side. So bear with me, I had searched and haven't even seen this pairing used, so hopefully this won't bomb on me.

A/N: The song I am using in this story is: "Amaranth" by the Hard rock/Metal band "Nightwish". (Found in their new album: "Dark Passion Play") It is a band that uses almost Opera-ish vocalist, and a hard rock/metal band. Very much well worth the listen. I highly suggest you listen to it while reading that part. This song will be used in a later chapter, so I will let you know when to listen.

The Secret

Tim Speedle was a CSI on a mission. The smell of a mystery was ripe in the air, and he was on the hunt. The usually stoic and shy CSI had always gotten a strange feeling around that black haired Documents Technician. Maybe it was the fact he had never actually seen her fully in the light, or even outside. But damn that girl was a mystery! And lately that feeling has been multiplied ten-fold, and he found himself making excuses to take the elevator down those extra two floors, simply to get a glimpse of her. She was shy, and quiet, and reminded him of himself, especially when he had first started at Miami-Dade.

He wasn't exactly sure when he realized it, but he soon found out that not only was she a mystery, but that he was attracted to her. This in itself surprised him, as he did not usually fall head over heels into lust over a woman he had hardly spoken more then eight sentences to. He shook his head, as he thought it through again, re-adjusting his lab coat over his shoulders for about the third time in an hour as he thought about how to approach the matter. The trace evidence he was supposed to be processing lay nearly forgotten by the microscope in front of him.

Cynthia Wells...the name sounded good on his tongue. He wanted to know about her. What she did for fun...what she looked like in the bright Miami sun. Hell! He would settle to know what she drove at this point! Not matter what time, their shifts never seemed to coincide. For all he knew she lived at the lab!

Maybe he would asked Maxine Valera over in DNA, she knew everyone...right? Sighing he shook off his lab coat and ran a hand through his dark curly hair, unknowingly ruffling it into a pleasantly scruffy style. Walking down the hall, he gave a short wave to H, as he turned the corner to DNA. The attractive tech looked up and smiled as he approached. "Whatcha got for me today?" She drawled pleasantly when he opened the glass doors.

"Nothing. But how are those samples Eric brought in this morning. You know, the white substance on the lamp shade?" He asked, thinking quickly. "Ah. That one." She muttered, digging through a pile of envelopes and swab containers that lay on the counter. He wondered briefly if she had some sort of system going, or it was actually as disorganized as it looked. "Yeah that one was interesting." She commented, holding up the correct container, and handing him a printed analysis. "Sperm?" He asked incredulously. "But that lamp was like two meters away!" He finished, surprised. She only grinned and said with a wink, "Far-shooter that one."

He gave her a rare grin, and he steered their conversation closer to his goal. But unfortunately, Valera didn't know much about the document technician either, other then the fact that she sometimes filled in for the Swing shift. But had recently permanently switched to days.

He left Valera under a mountain of evidence, as Calliegh came in with an armload of swabs from a triple murder at a construction site. Finally, after many tedious hours he wrapped up his final case, and crashed on the couch in the break room, hoping against hope that the scum of Miami would wait another hour till his shift was over before striking again with some other grizzly murder.

Then, speaking of the dark lady of mystery, there she was! He was surprised to see the slim technician enter the break room. He was even more pleased to see she had not noticed him. She was listening to an ipod, the cord disappearing into a deep lab coat pocket. She had a slight smile on her face, and she hummed lightly as she opened the cupboard for a coffee cup.

He saw his opening when she started to strain, reaching for a cup just out of her reach. He got up, moving over to her side and reached over her, feeling her start in surprise as his arm brushed hers as he easily reached the cup. She blushed and faced him, pulling out her ear phones. "Thanks. I didn't know anyone was in here." She said shyly, as she slipped the cord back into her pocket. He couldn't help but notice the pink-hued blush that stole across her cheeks at his proximity.

He couldn't help but grin like an idiot, while inside his mind was screaming for him to say something. "Not a problem." He managed finally, much less smoothly then he liked. "Do you usually come up from break near the end of shift?" He continued, settling down at the table, and watching her as she sniffed at the coffee sitting in the pot, before pouring some, and adding sugar. "Yeah. I find I get too caught up in my work, and before I notice it, I am starving and it's practically the end of shift." She replied easily, settling down opposite from him, long fingers curling around the steaming mug.

Something about her made him act like a total dolt. He felt totally out of his element with her, something he had not felt with a girl since his first year of College. But if she noticed, she gave no sign, simply looking down at her cup, and twirling the little spoon to mix up the sugar that had settled at the bottom.

"So, I hear you had quite the interesting case?" She began, her voice not as shy as before, and a grin on her face. "Huh?" He replied, mystified, having been distracted by her, watching as she stretched, her long neck arching, and the dark tendrils swaying as they escaped from the loose pony-tail. "You know...the one with the lamp-shade..and the...the." She began, seemingly to try and restate the conversation into something less dirty. He chuckled openly at her expression of embarrassment and humor.

From there on the conversation was rich and full, while they talked about work, and the staff in general, he grew more and more comfortable with her, and felt her relaxing a bit as well. Even treating him to a full bellied laugh when he amused her with a story of the time he had pushed Eric into the canal during a mock wrestling match, after finishing up a dumpster dive for a case in their first year working together.

Literally before he knew it, shift was over, and a few other techs trickled in. She smiled, and got up to rinse her cup. "Thanks Tim." She replied, "I have never had the last hour of a shift go by so fast." She finished with a full smile. "Call me Speed." He replied, grabbing his lab coat from the coat-rack. She grinned again, "Alright, Speed.." She tried, then winked at him, and said, "Someday you are going to have to tell me exactly how you got that nickname." Before saying goodbye, and walking out the floor.

Speed swore he floated down to the locker rooms, and was glad that no one was wandering about, as he was sure they would have commented on his smile. It had been a long time seen he had felt that pleased with himself. A long time. And as he shrugged out of his work shirt, his toned stomach, exposed before slipping on his other shirt, he realized that the mysterious woman was still a mystery. He shook his head in wonderment as he strapped on his biker helmet when he got outside. She had gotten him to talk about his life, but never revealed much about her own. He wondered if tomorrow he could time his break right again with hers, without seeming too desperate or clingy.

But if he had been paying attention, as he revved up his bike, he would have noticed her, paused at the front doors of the department, she hair pulled out of her regular pony hair, and curling slightly around her neck, watching him with a small smile, her tongue, ever so slightly, dipping out to lick her lower lip. And thinking, the exact same thing.