Chapter Nine: Dispo Day

You make my slacks a little tight,

you may unfasten them if you like

That's if you crash and spend the night

But you don't fold, you don't fade

You've got everything you need, especially me

Sister you've got it all

Curl your upper lip up and let me look around

Ride your tongue along your bottom lip and bite down

And bend your back and ask those hips if I can touch

Because they're the perfect jumping off point getting closer to your

Butterfly

Well you float on by

Oh kiss me with your eyelashes tonight

Or Eskimo your nose real close to mine

And let's mood the lights and finally make it right

Jason Mraz - Butterfly

The Drugs Disposal Convey was on the straight stretch of tarmac, heading down Washington towards the huge industrial incinerator that would destroy the millions of dollars worth of drugs carried by the specialised truck.

The details were low key, only selective members of the MDPD knew where they were heading, what time and when. Usually these runs were a piece of cake. Something officers got in on to gain a little extra cash. There was no danger on one of these run everyone knew that. There was always the potential hence why there was always the armed escort, but in over five hundred Dispo Days there had never been a problem.

Speedle was sitting in the transit truck, watching as the world flew past the window of the passenger seat. His thoughts elsewhere, far away from Dispo Day and drug trucks, focused more on the new part he needed for his bike.

Next to him Officer Mal Hollis occupied the driving seat, his eyes firmly fixed on the road. There was silence between the two men, and it was a comfortable one. They were both quiet by nature and both lost in their own thoughts.

Hollis was thinking of the vacation he had planned, a surprise for his wife on their fifth anniversary. He'd already organised her sister baby sitting the kids while they jetted off for a week to Paris, the city of romance. His wife had always loved Paris, it was where they had honeymooned five years prior and he was looking forward to seeing her face light up at the sight of those two plane tickets.

There were less contented thoughts in Speedle's mind as his eyes fell on the shimmering blue water beneath them as they crossed the bridge. The transfer papers in his desk drawer were plaguing his thoughts; all they needed was his signature and then he was gone. He'd found a way out of Miami, somewhere away from the emotional torture he found himself enduring day in and day out. It was killing him, he knew it, he couldn't think, he could barely function whenever she was near him. His moods swung from the deepest depression to almost irrepressible anger and he found his control on the situation slipping all the time. He couldn't handle the way she made him feel, and he knew she couldn't help the way she was.

Kate had come back to rebuild her life, he'd seen the impact undercover had had on her and he hated it. He knew she was trying her hardest to be normal, to get back everything she could and stabilise herself. It wasn't fair disrupting her life by telling her to get the hell out of his, not when she was trying so hard to fix things. He knew she needed to be here doing this, she'd made friends, she had roots now, and him… well he had nothing.

Hence why as soon as he got back he was signing the transfer papers to New York and selling his bungalow.

The radio crackled to life, pulling him from his thought's but not enough to shock him. It had been doing it the whole trip, the other members of the convoy updating each other of their statuses.

"CSI we have a funeral procession making its way to you." A voice reported over the air waves.

Tim returned his attention to the road in front of them, recognizing the T junction they were coming to in the road.

"Let her pass." Horatio's voice commanded.

The funeral party was driving past them now, with their own police escort. Tim found himself staring at one of the patrolmen as they drove past on a motorcycle. He frowned, his dark eyes spotting something a miss, his brain taking a few seconds to engage in his line of thinking.

They were wearing Kevlar…

"Everyone on alert…"

A station wagon speeding from a different direction hit the Hearse side on, denting it on impact. There was a screech of breaks and he found himself bracing himself with one hand on the dashboard as Hollis jammed his foot on the breaks to avoid colliding with the patrol car in front of them. His body jerked back into its seat as one of the members from the funeral procession pulled a gun, one he recognized was not police issue.

Smoke was billowing now across the windscreen and he could barely see, it wasn't until he heard the first burst of gun fire that he started to react.

"Down." He screamed at Hollis, unclipping his seat belt as he dived for cover.

One of the suit-clad drivers from the Hearse pulled out the automatic weapon and opened fire right at the windshield. Glass exploded all over the cab of the truck, showering him and Hollis in its tiny jagged shards. He felt something warm trickle down the side of his face.

Tim could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the adrenaline began to kick in, rushing through his veins and giving him a surge of courage as he upholstered his weapon and threw open the passenger door, taking cover behind it. Blood had splashed onto the seats, where Hollis was lying motionless; he knew the other man was hurt; he had no idea how badly.

Somewhere amongst the chaos a baby was screaming and a woman too, but he couldn't focus on them, he needed to help Hollis, the man had a wife and two kids, and he was injured, so that became his priority.

Bullets rained on the cover of the metal door, and Tim didn't even look where he was shooting as he returned fire. Or at least he tried to. The dull empty clicks of his gun meant the bullets weren't firing, and he was defenceless. A sick realization filtered through to his brain, but he had no time to think about it. He had to get Hollis out of the truck and to safety, even if he didn't have a working weapon.

Tim leaned back into the truck, across the seat, grabbing the other man under the arms and yanking him towards the shelter of the passenger door, he knew one of the perps was making a break for the driver's seat and the two of them had to be clear before he got there.

The weight of Hollis body caused his feet to slip on the gravel as he over balanced, and before he knew it Tim was lying flat on his back, stunned. Hollis's dead weight was lying across him. He heard footsteps coming towards him; his gun was still in hand. He shoved Hollis, whilst muttering an apology, off of him as one of the dark clad man loomed over him.

There was a moment of utter stillness, Tim swung his arm up gun in hand, squeezing the trigger but hearing that dull click over and over again. A cruel smile curved over the other man's features as he looked Tim straight in the face, his gun pointed at the CSI's chest before he pulled the trigger.

The air rushed out of his lungs, his gun slipping from his limp fingers as his other hand clutched at his chest. His body was beginning to spasm as he scrambled for air. His chest was on fire and he was sure he was choking. He couldn't breath, his body was demanding oxygen but he couldn't get it.

Someone was talking to him, kind soothing words, for a second he thought it was Kate…

There was so much to say, so much he should have said, so much he should have done…

Horatio's face appeared in his vision, his eyes watery and intense. He felt Horatio's hands tearing at the overalls he was wearing His words now audible as Tim heard his own voice rasping "my chest" repeatedly.

"The Kevlar caught it Speed…Your going to be alright…" Horatio's speech was broken as he saw the red head holding up the bullet for him to see.

"Just breathe…" Horatio uttered soothingly.

Tim tried to nod but found himself unable to move from his position as the air began to flood into his lungs again as Horatio loosened the straps on the Kevlar vest so his chest was less constricted.

"Rescue! Get me Rescue!" Horatio was roaring now into the open air.

Tim twisted his head towards Hollis's body lying unmoving next to him. The other man's eyes were wide open and glassy as they stared into his. Tim felt as if his soul was being sucked right out of his body, unable to tear his gaze away as it was ripped from his chest and the crushing guilt flooded in.


The C.D I had on in the car was boring me. It was the same as it had been for the past month because I was too lazy to take it out, or I forgot to bring another one with me. The reason varied from day to day although it was usually the former.

The road was busy and traffic was backed up as I drove towards the Crime Lab. I was going to be late, I could tell. What I wouldn't give to be in the Hummer right now. I hit the eject button on the CD player, letting the radio flick on automatically as I rested my elbow on the open window waiting for the traffic light in front of me to change to green.

"…Armed men ambushed a Drugs Disposal Convoy, three police officers were killed and it is unrecorded how many others were injured."

I shivered as icy cold fear doused me. I was staring at the radio now, in absolute horror. My chest tightening with each breath I took, my cell phone was already in my hand trembling as a horn honked behind me.

My body was running on automatic now, my foot already on the gas as half listened to the radio, while waiting for Eric to pick up.

"Delko." He answered abruptly.

"It's Kate, I need a location."

"Calleigh was about to call you, we're on the scene, I've got your kit if you want to meet us on Washington."

"Tim…" I couldn't force out anymore than his name, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know Kate, we just got the call…I'm sorry." Eric said softly.

I swallowed hard; panic was building in my chest.

They'd been seven police officers on that convoy and three of them were dead. My heart wrenched, there was a one in seven chance that it was him. The odds didn't look good to me.

I was praying now and that was something I hadn't done in a long time.

Please God let him live…

"I'll see you there." my voice was calm and devoid of emotion.

I snapped the phone shut and waited for traffic to start moving again. My fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel as the traffic moved slowly.

Screw this.

I glanced in my rear-view mirror to check the line of traffic behind me, before pulling out into the empty lane heading in the opposite direction and manoeuvring the car into a U turn before pressing my foot down on the gas and speeding towards the scene.


The scene was a war zone, spent casings littered the ground, and there were bullet holes lining along the patrol cars that had been escorting the convoy. I was pushing my way through the crowd of reporters that were hedging along the yellow crime scene tape, protesting as I ducked under it.

I couldn't breath, couldn't think as I watched EMS roll a black body bag directly across my path. The knot in my stomach became unbearable as I felt my composure beginning to collapse. My heart stopped pounding in my chest; I couldn't even feel it beat. I was trying force deep breaths. I rested my hand on the hood of the ambulance to steady myself, as I swayed on my feet, feeling tears prickling at my eyes. My fingers were pressed against my mouth, trying to stifle the unbelievable pain as it tore through me, ripping my heart right out of my chest. I blinked quickly trying to clear my blurred vision and found myself staring right him.

Tim was sitting on a stretcher, his arm wrapped around his waist cradling his ribs, whilst his free hand was inside his loose white t-shirt pressing against the place where his heart would be. His breathing was heavy and laboured, and from the way he was holding himself I could tell it was hurting him to even do that. Tim's shoulders were slumped, his gaze locked on something in the distance but not focusing. There was blood on his face, a small scrape on the side of his head, just before his hair line. His thick, dark hair was dishevelled and wild, giving me the image of a lost little boy.

He was in shock, but he was processing, I could see that by knotted eye brows and the calculation in his gaze as it swung to me. His doe brown eyes met mine, and for the second time today I forgot to breathe, because in them I saw fear.

I was striding towards him, my steps slow and purposeful, eyes never leaving his. I wasn't in control anymore; I was running on pure emotion. I'd lost my mind the moment I'd heard the convoy had been attacked.

My heart was ruling this one.

I wasn't thinking when my hand reached out, covering his with my own. Together they covered his precious heart. I let out a deep shuddering breath; I hadn't realized I'd been holding as I felt it beat underneath my fingers. I closed my eyes, feeling warm, salty tears trailing down my cheeks as I swallowed back all of the anger, the pain and above all the fear that I would never see him again. He was here right under my hand and I needed a moment to just believe that.

I felt his fingertips trembling slightly as he brushed the tears gently from my face. His thumb traced the outline of my lips as I parted them, to say the words I'd been dying to tell him for so damn long. They never had the chance to leave my throat because his soft lips were brushing mine tentatively.

I melted into his kiss as his hand gripped my hair lightly pulling me closer. Unspoken promises passed between us, reassurances that words couldn't give. My heart was racing in my chest as he took away the fear that claimed me replacing it with the blistering heat that filled me whenever he was near. I craved the feel of his skin on mine; I needed him desperately just to say the words I longed to hear from those beautifully carved lips.

He pulled away, his forehead resting on mine, his hand stroking the back of my neck as I sniffed.

"I'm ok." He uttered, his brown eyes open and honest as I searched his face.

"I was scared." I whispered the confession.

He was the only person I would admit that to, the only one I trusted with the knowledge.

"I know." He returned quietly, kissing the side of my mouth tenderly.

Next to us there was a discreet cough. We drew away from each other almost reluctant, before I turned my gaze on to Horatio.

"You ok?" I asked Horatio checking him over.

He was still wearing his black CSI wind breaker and I had to admit it looked good on him. Horatio bowed his head with a small smile before answering.

"I've been better."

"Hollis?" Tim broke in to the conversation, squinting at Horatio.

Horatio shook his head, his hand clasping Tim's shoulder as the younger man's face fell.

"I'm sorry." I murmured.

My hand enclosed around his giving it a soothing squeeze. Tim let out a deep sigh before his eyes fell to my hand, his expression despondent.

"Do you have your kit?" Horatio asked quietly.

"Eric put it in the back of the Hummer for me; I was stuck in traffic when the call came through." I told him, nodding.

"Right, I want you and Eric on the Hearse. Calleigh on firearms, she'll ask if she needs your help with the ballistics evidence."

"I can do that." I agreed.

I released Tim's hand, before giving him a reassuring wink and heading back through the throng of reporters to retrieve my kit.


Getting thorough the crowd wasn't as much of a problem as avoiding Enrique Rayas, the moment I'd stepped back under the Crime Scene tape he was on me, camera trained on my every move, microphone in my face.

"Detective Callahan, getting a sense of Déjà vu? Two years ago your mentor Raymond Caine was killed in a drug related shoot out…"

I stuck my hand up to cover the camera lenses, shaking my head furiously for empathises.

"You don't want to go there with me." I warned at him, fixing him with an icy glare.

Rayas' hazelnut eyes were on me, devious and scheming as he decided to take another chance. He wanted a scoop, but there wasn't a chance in hell he was getting it from me.

"How do you respond to rumours that you still have connections in the Genovese Family?" Rayas persisted; he was on my side of the tape now and following me as I strode towards the scene.

I felt agitation bite at me, images of him branding me a dirty cop on national television flashing through my mind. I tried to push it away, Rayas was only trying to inflame my temper so I'd slip up and give him something. The only thing he was accomplishing here was pissing me off even more.

"The same way I'm responding to you, get the hell out of my face before I jam that microphone somewhere the sun don't shine." I snapped at him, before continuing on my journey.

His hand clamped on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. The low growl that escaped my lips was audible, and I knew he heard it. His fingers tightened on my arm as I pivoted on the spot, twirling to face him, my kit swinging in my hand as I gripped it tightly in response to the threat in front of me. The moment he'd grabbed my arm he'd become a threat and my brain was already working on the best way to neutralise the situation before I snapped and beat the crap out of him with my Crime Scene Kit.

"Let go of my arm." I demanded in a calm, firm manner.

"What's your opinion on work place relationships, you and Detective Speedle seem to…" Rayas didn't even get the chance to finish that sentence.

He let out a sudden and unexpected yelp as the large metal case I used to store my Crime Scene Kit slipped from my fingers and smashed directly onto Rayas right foot. He sprung back, his hand releasing my arm in the process as I bent down to pick up the case, before straightening up and bringing myself up to my full height.

"You ever stick your nose into my business again, or grab me like that and you'll find yourself in lock up so fast, your head will spin, you got that?" I spat, jabbing my finger at Rayas.

Rayas cocked his head to the side, his hand still holding onto that damn microphone as the camera trained on his face.

"Are you threatening me Detective Callahan?" he asked as if surprised.

My right fist clenched, and I took a deep breath to reign in my fury at the audacity of this jackass. I shook my head as I heard footsteps treading towards us.

"It's a promise." I informed him.

"Get your ass back behind that tape before I throw you there." Tripp barked from behind me causing me to flinch involuntarily.

Rayas held up in hands in mock surrender before backing away and ducking back under the Crime Scene tape and chattering into his microphone again.

"You ok?" Tripp asked, standing along side me, both of us glaring at Rayas. "Looked like you were gonna stove that guys head in or something."

"He's damn lucky I didn't." I snarked to Tripp, narrowing my eyes as Rayas when he glanced in my direction.

The bastard actually had the nerve to give me a broad grin and wave, like I was his little pet cop. I bit the inside of my cheek trying to regain my composure and resist the urge to climb back over that tape and wipe the smug smile off his stupid face.

"There's a special place in hell for guys like him, forget about it." Tripp muttered, placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder. "We have more important things to worry about."

"Your right." I agreed, shooting Rayas one final dirty look before spinning on my heel and walking along side Tripp back to the crime scene.


The Disposal Truck was sitting right in front of them overlooking the marina, doors open and alone on the abandoned strip of concrete. Tim found himself amongst a bustle of activity, keeping back a little, as SWAT took up positions, guns trained on the black truck. It was unlikely the perps were still inside, but he was learning it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially since he kept hearing those dull empty clicks of his gun as he fired mid shoot out. He'd gotten Hollis killed because he didn't clean his gun, and that weighted on him heavily, fixing him with a guilt he found himself unable to shake.

"Nobody's home gentlemen." Horatio yelled for the rest of them to hear.

Tim felt immense relief at those words before his body began to run on automatic, driving all emotions from him as it usually did when it came to work. He needed to focus, if he couldn't save Hollis's life he could catch his killers and it was that desire that was keeping him going right now. He had to ignore the bullet shaped bruise across his heart and all the mess that came with it and focus on Hollis.

He was standing between Tripp and Horatio as one of the SWAT guys opened the back of the truck revealing, millions of dollars worth of drugs.

"So they stole the drugs but didn't take them?" Tripp exclaimed, his confusion reflecting everyone else's.

"Everything but the cocaine." Horatio stated as he stepped closer to get a better look at the back of the truck.

Tim was next to the driver's seat door now, his hand grasping the handle and hauling it open so he could view the inside of the cab. He half expected to see Hollis there, but that was stupid and his mind dismissed it the moment he thought it. He couldn't linger on ghosts. The cab was devoid of people just like H had said. The sky blue official uniforms were strewn across the seats, the stench of perspiration heavy in the air.

"They changed clothes; we'll see what DNA we can get of these uniforms." Tim told Horatio, bending down to draw several large paper bags from his kit.

"We have a blood trail leading away from the cab, and here…to a get away vehicle." Horatio thought out loud as Tim bagged the other shirts before climbing form the truck and taking up resident next to Horatio.

"No tread pattern though." Tim pointed out as he set the paper bags down next to his open kit.

"Doesn't matter we have plenty of evidence to work with back at the lab." Horatio replied, crouching down to take a swab from the blood pool and handing it to Tim to put in his kit.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, clenching his jaw and kicking at the gravel with his shoe. Horatio raised his head and saw that the two of them were alone for the time being. Horatio put his hands on his hips before deciding to address the situation at hand.

Speedle had been distracted as of late, even before the shoot out. He could sense the younger man regressing into himself, not associating with the others in the lab as well as he used to. It had been a moderate surprise when Speed had appeared in his office yesterday morning requesting transfer papers, he'd be losing one of the best CSI's the MDPD had.

Horatio had known as soon as Kate Callahan and Tim Speedle had bumped into each other at the scene of the plane crash that there was something between them. Their body language, speech and motions told a story he hadn't realized was there. Even if he'd known before hand he still would have hired Kate, she deserved another shot at life after what his brother had done to her.

Horatio couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for Raymond's role in taking six years of the young woman's life. He knew his brother had made it seem that Kate didn't have a choice in the matter; Raymond had always been good at bending the truth and playing on people's consciouses. Which was part of the reason he felt he had to make it up to her, show her one Caine wasn't as bad as the other.

He was glad Kate had gotten out when she had. Raymond's death had made things clearer for Horatio in that respect, gauging Kate's reaction at the funeral, he knew that Raymond had taken a lot more from Kate than Horatio had originally realized and if she wasn't careful he was going to take her life.

He'd been the only one to approach her at the graveside, the only one who actually knew who she was. Yelina suspected of course, but the pain of burying her husband overrode the ability to face the possibility of his past mistakes and betrayals.

The way he'd seen it Kate was alone in the world now, on unfamiliar ground and in dangerous territory. The one person she could turn to was gone, his body six feet under and the FBI… well the FBI wouldn't give a damn about a girl like Kate, no family, her life was dedicated to bringing down the Mob. It was a burden that shouldn't have rested on the shoulders of someone so young, yet it was something she carried well.

She'd accepted his hand when he'd reached out, he'd offered her away out and grateful she took it. He knew if she carried on she'd have been dead before the year was out and her blood wouldn't be on Raymond's hands, it would have been on his.

Horatio had followed the trial through the newspapers almost religiously, he was awaiting her call but giving her the time and space she needed to decide what was best for her, something he knew she hadn't thought of, in a very long time.

When the call had come it hadn't come from Kate, it was from Mac Taylor in New York filling him in on the details of the fire that had almost claimed her life. She'd done the right thing and she'd almost paid the ultimate price. She'd listed him as her next of kin, and Mac was giving Horatio a heads up on the situation before the FBI swept in to deal with it.

Mac was also calling for information; him and a younger Detective had been the first on scene and had found Kate barely conscious next to the dead body of Joey Giovanni, a high ranking family member in the mob. The problem was Kate was red flagged by the FBI, so getting information on her was proving difficult. Adding to that Kate was terrified and had been brainwashed into the "keep your mouth shut" mentality the FBI seemed to instil into all of their Undercover Operatives. Something Horatio was still trying to break the habit of now.

Mac had known something wasn't right and upon seeing Horatio's name on her files had decided there may another way to gather the information he needed. Horatio had given it to him under the promise that Mac had to help protect Kate the best he could, to counter act the obvious leak in the FBI's system.

Mac had stayed true to his word and Kate Callahan had remained alive and well until the trial was over and she'd made the decision to return to Miami. She'd known it was going to be hard but she'd told him it was her home and she needed to find her own identity and she knew that it was here.

Horatio Caine had done his best to give Kate Callahan the home, and the life that his brother had snatched away from her, the only thing he couldn't give her was the one thing he knew she so desperately needed. He was standing right in front of Tim Speedle cursing Raymond for destroying not just one life but two.

Horatio would have given anything to mend Tim Speedle's broken heart and take away the betrayal and pain the younger man suffered at the hands of his brother, but the truth was the only person who could fix that was Kate and Speed wasn't letting her anywhere near him for the fear she'd do it all over again. Horatio shook his head as his gaze came to rest on the younger man, feeling deeply pained.

Raymond, did you know what you were doing?

"What's on your mind?" Horatio asked instead.

Speed swallowed hard before looking away and across the marina.

"Kate." He uttered.

Horatio bowed his head, his fingers toying with the edge of his sunglasses.

"What about her?" Horatio inquired.

The important part of this conversation was getting Speed to talk, to let him know that there was someone who at least supported him no matter what decision he'd made. Tim Speedle hadn't had a lot of support in his life and Horatio was trying to change that.

Tim looked down at his hands, exhaling deeply.

"I'm not entirely sure, I was sure I was ready to leave. Go back to New York and get on with my life. When I got hit, my first thought was Kate. How I have so much to tell her, how much I need her. I don't know if I can just walk away anymore." He admitted, feeling cautious, running his hand through his unruly hair.

"Maybe you should tell her this... what ever you choose I'll have your back but running away probably won't solve your problems." Horatio advised, tilting his head to look the younger man in the face.

Tim rubbed his hands across his face, trying to find some relief in the action.

"I don't know if I can trust her again H. She makes everything so damn hard." Tim admitted openly.

Tim trusted Horatio's judgement, sometimes better than he trusted his own. The older man had been the father figure that he hadn't had in a long time. Megan had always been his mentor but despite the fact they were close he couldn't find the words to share his feelings. Horatio had always been the person he'd turned to when he needed help and the older man had come through for him time and time again. Maybe that's why he was trusting H with this.

"Things are different now Speed. I don't think anyone could have predicted how things were going to end up back then. You'll have to talk to her if you ever want to rebuild that trust." Horatio offered.

Speedle put his hands on his head and tipped it skyward, closing his eyes as he thought this through.

"Yea well that's easier said then done, she's been making it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with me as of late." Tim muttered.

"And this is all her own doing? Or does she have a reason?" Horatio questioned, focusing on his sunglasses with a knowing smile.

Tim suddenly felt awkward, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly with one hand, as his mind flicked back to the Noel Peach case, the Hummer and of course the locker room.

"I lose it when I'm round her... there may have been an incident... or two…" he trailed off, meeting Horatio's gaze, before looking away again ashamed.

There was no other explanation; he loved her and that was that. But being around her was killing him, and he couldn't function without remembering the way things used to be. He wanted her back, he wanted to be around her, talking, touching, feeling all those emotions all over again without the stigma his heart was carrying. The problem was his heart wouldn't let him, he'd given himself to her freely once before and she'd destroyed him. He couldn't risk that again.

Horatio's hand clasped Speed's shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts and back into reality.

"Talk to her, if you don't you'll regret it. Then make your decision about leaving. She needs to know where things stand." Horatio said softly.

"Yea well, I'm not even sure where that is." Tim sighed as he reached down collecting his kit and the evidence bags to take back to the lab.

With Horatio's help he carried them back to the Hummer, contemplating the older man's words of wisdom.

Horatio was right; he had to talk to Kate.


The sun was beaming down on us, making the back of my neck along with the rest of my body hot and sticky. I'd already clipped my hair up so that it didn't get in the way; my suit jacket was tossed into the passenger seat of my car, so I was wearing just my khaki coloured silk camisole over the brown linen trousers.

The shiny black Hearse was still running, creating an almost eerie feeling as I snapped a few shots with my camera of its smashed side. I took a shot of the tire before crouching down next to it to pull out a bullet from the ambush. My tweezers enclosed around the tiny piece of metal as I tried to wedge it out of the opening. I was having a tough time trying to pull it out. Calleigh was a lot better at this but she had her hands full trying to process the rest of the scene at the current moment.

"It's kind of creepy don't you think?" I mentioned to Eric as he leaned into Hearse taking his own pictures.

I almost cheered when the bullet eased out of the tire; I picked up one of the small brown evidence envelopes and inserted it inside.

"You should be there when we pull one of these things out of the water and the radios still running, that is creepy." Eric returned, glancing up at me with a small smile as I rose to me feet.

"That's why I'm glad I specialise in blood spatter, there's no kind of shivers up your spine type stuff." I returned, leaning over him to get look at the screwdriver jammed in the steering column.

"You think you can get a print of that?" I asked indicating towards the screwdriver.

"I can try." Eric paused before changing the subject. "You and Speed put on a nice little show before." Eric remarked under the guise of studying the steering wheel for prints.

"It wasn't a show," I said softly. "I'm just glad he's ok,"

"Your not the only one, he had a pretty close call today, things like that change a man, you know what I'm saying?" Eric's eyes were fixed on me now as he tried to make sure I was catching his drift.

I pursed my lip together, blatantly ignoring his implications.

"I'm gonna see if Calleigh needs some help with the ballistics, you got this covered right?" I asked, watching as Eric took out his finger print brush.

"Yea, Calleigh's gonna need all the help she can get with the bullets and shell casings from the shoot out." Eric confirmed, before getting to work and shooing me away.

I picked up my kit before striding across the tarmac towards the beautiful blond Ballistics expert. She was kneeling on the ground next to a gun, her kit already overflowing with little brown evidence envelopes, full of bullets and casings.

I was standing behind her, watching as she picked up the gun in her latex covered hands and ejected the clip, before checking the chamber and tipping the bullet out into her hand.

"That's weird." She muttered to herself.

I could tell something was wrong from the look on her face and I thought I had an idea as to what.

"That Tim's gun?" I asked quietly as not to startle her.

Calleigh glanced up at me, not looking entirely surprised at the fact I was standing over her.

"Yea, magazine's full and there's one in the chamber…it might be a second magazine." She reasoned, taking more to herself than to me.

"Hm…" was all I could reply feeling something cold washing over me.

"You know that none of this is official right?" she reminded me as she slipped the gun into an evidence envelope, taking care not to meet my gaze.

"I didn't say a word." I stated, reading the unspoken message between us both.

As much as I felt the urge to defend Tim it didn't change the facts, there was no second magazine.

"I think its best not to." Calleigh remarked before setting me on the next task of helping her collect ballistics evidence.


We were all subject to IAB investigation, someone had leaked about the Dispo Day Convoy and IAB was suggesting it was CSI. Hence the reason they were subjecting us to polygraph test in order to determine if one of us was the leak. A useless waste of time in my eyes but as much as Horatio had protested Jack Seeger was not letting go of the idea.

Tim was taking this badly, he was already riddled with guilt over the death of Officer Hollis, adding IAB to the mix suggesting that he was the leak and well, we had a recipe for disaster before it had even started. Or at least a broken polygraph machine depending on how he reacted. As he'd already said polygraphs picked up discomfort, there was no real way to tell if someone was lying unless you had the evidence to prove it.

Jack Seegar had already made his introductions and I'd already decided he wasn't a nice man. I'd over heard him bitching to Horatio about the cost of SWAT team members compared to the other lives lost, and that infuriated the hell out of me, especially when it was one of my own in the firing line.

Thankfully there was a mass amount of evidence just waiting to be processed; Horatio had sent me into the parking garage to go over the station wagon that had ploughed into the Hearse whilst Eric was put on the chair.

The parking garage was silent and peaceful, allowing me to work quickly and thoughtfully as I searched the car thoroughly for anything that seemed suspicious.

"You get anything from the soccer mom's car?" Horatio's voice carried across the empty parking garage as I fingered the bullet hole through the driver's seat.

I raised my head slightly to see Tripp and Horatio standing on the other side of the vehicle peering in at me.

"I pulled a bullet out the steering column, there's a hole in the driver's seat, someone was shooting at the mom." I paused waving my crime light around. "Also the car's too clean; this woman's supposed to be a mom but the cars practically spotless. You've got kids right Frank?"

Tripp leaned into the back of the car; I slide along the back seat making room for him to gauge the general cleanliness of the car.

"Three of them, the car is a war zone. I'm always on at the wife about it." Tripp told me, frowning at the interior of the car, before pulling his body out of it and nodding his agreement at Horatio.

"So what are you thinking?" Horatio urged, asking for my conclusion.

"I don't think the kids hers. I think she was in on it." I told Horatio as I drew myself out of the car, blowing a strand of hair away off my face.

"You wanna run with it?" Horatio asked, eyes on me intent.

I wasn't sure whether it was because he needed the help or he wanted to how I worked on my own. I'd come in at CSI Level Two, which made me the baby of the shift compared to the others. They were all Level Three. The cases I'd worked had always been with other people so being let loose on my own was exhilarating.

I snapped off my latex gloves, feeling myself beaming with pride, as I nodded my agreement at Horatio.

"I'll review her file before I call her in." I told Horatio my plan to confirm it was correct procedure as I lowered myself to shut my kit and fasten the clasps on it.

"I'll make the call if you wanna get that file, I'll page you when she arrives." Tripp offered as I rose to my feet again.

"That would be great, thank you." I said gratefully.

"I'll leave you to get to work then." Horatio uttered with a small smile, before he left the room, Tripp following at his heels.

I waited until I was sure they had left before picking up my own kit and slipping out of the door. I stored my kit away before finding myself lingering outside the Ballistics Lab.


The Ballistics Lab always seemed dimly lit to me. The overhead fluorescent strip cast light to all corners of the room, giving everything an artificial glow. I'd snuck in as quietly as I could, leaning in the door way and taking in the environment around me.

I'd never had a problem with guns; I wasn't as comfortable around them as Calleigh seemed to be. Hell that girl was the Gun Goddess herself but I could handle one and I trusted myself with one. I could take one apart and put it back together and I was a fairly good shot but that's as far as my knowledge on guns went.

Calleigh was standing with her back to me. I was out of her peripheral vision which made my role at the current moment more voyeuristic, but I knew it was a bad idea to interrupt her when she had a gun in her hand. So I decided to stand and watch until her test fire was over.

She took a careful aim at the target in front of her, and flicked the safety off. She stood legs apart as she pulled the trigger slowly. Nothing erupted form the barrel but a dull metallic click. No noise, no bullet, no discharge. I frowned thoughtfully as she let out a loud sigh and began to take the gun apart, laying out each piece neatly, side by side.

She studied each piece with care, and apt attention, setting each one down before writing her findings on the sheet of paper in front of her. I put a hand to my mouth coughing lightly to get her attention.

Calleigh twirled to face me, pushing her blond hair back over her shoulders, a sly smile spreading across features as her emerald eyes came to rest on me.

"Are you checking up on me?" Calleigh asked, half seriously.

I bit my lip, arms crossed over my chest as I shook my head looking at the empty barrel of the gun in her hand, already knowing whose it was.

"That Tim's gun?" I responded, needing her to confirm my suspicions.

The expression on Calleigh's face turned solemn as she stared down at the implement in her hands, rolling it in her fingers. Her mouth clamped shut in to a firm, grim line. She was trying o protect him, shield him from the stigma of the condition of his weapon, but I knew he didn't like guns. He wouldn't touch them unless he had to. It was likely that Tim hadn't touched his gun in a very long time.

"Calleigh it's me." I heard myself begging and I hated hearing that tone in my own voice.

It was a sign of weakness, of need, and I hated feeling like that. But the truth of the matter was, I had to know because maybe I could stop it happening again.

Calleigh pursed her lips together, and looked down at the gun barrel in her hand and then raising her eyes to me.

"The gun misfired." She said quietly.

I looked away, nodding knowingly. I'd expected as much but it still shocked me to hear the words out there in the open. I wanted to ask more, I really did but I couldn't. By claiming misfire and the evidence inconclusive Calleigh was protecting Speedle's reputation. Poor gun maintenance wasn't a crime, but it was frowned upon and Tim would become the cop that other cops refused to work with because he didn't have their backs.

We stood there in silence, contemplating this, both of us at odds but agreeing through unspoken words that this was the right thing to do.

"Thank you." I whispered before leaving the Ballistics Lab with a very heavy heart.


The IAB Polygraph test took place on a separate floor from where the labs were. IAB preferred intimidation methods opposed to be friendly and understanding. I'd been locked in a monitored reception area for the past thirty minutes, trying not to look guilty or uncomfortable as Jack Seegar had watched me from the comfort of someone's office on the security monitor.

When it came to my turn on the chair I was reminded of Eric's words about guilt and Catholics. He was right Catholics always harboured some form of guilt over something. I was nervous as hell because I knew I'd broken every rule in the stupid little rulebook and was about to be called on it.

The examiner was a stern brunette, called Anna. Her face passive and blank as she fastened the black tube around my chest, making me feel anxious. I found myself conscious of my own breathing, trying to keep my breaths level and even. That was one way to fool the lie detector.

"This records your breathing." She told me as I exhaled deeply.

Her fingers were on mine velcroing the tiny black bands around the pads of my fingertips. They were already moist from the fact they'd locked me in the reception area, which had simply added to the feeling of imprisonment that was bubbling underneath my skin.

"This records your perspiration."

Next she was onto the final piece of equipment; she strapped the armband on my upper arm, tightening it until it pinched my skin. My bit the inside of my cheek under her onslaught, determined to keep my face expressionless and show nothing.

"This records your heart rate." She uttered before returning to her seat, her eyes already on the monitors studying my inner workings. Her voice was soft and even as she spoke, lulling me into a false sense of security.

"Is it correct your full name is Kaitlyn Clodagh Callahan?"

I flinched at the use of my full name before answering.

"Yes."

"Were you born in Miami?"

"Yes."

"Have you lied recently?"

"Define the question." I replied.

"Have you told a work related lie?"

"No."

"Did you disclose the details of the convoy?"

"No."

"Is it true that you were undercover for six years working for the Genovese Family?"

My head snapped up surprised. The stern brunette didn't even glance at me.

"What relevance does that have?"

"Answer the question."

"Yes."

"You were mentored by Raymond Caine, and he was your handler until he was removed, correct?"

I was getting agitated now, I knew what was going on but I was powerless to stop it. The FBI had hijacked my test. There wasn't a chance in hell that I'd leaked on that convoy because I'd only been fed the details the day before yesterday when they needed an extra pair of hands on the evidence.

"Yes."

The FBI were clever bastards, they'd tried to force me to submit to polygraph after I'd pulled the plug on the Genovese family. My version of things hadn't gone down entirely well with them; they'd always thought I was missing something out. The pieces of the puzzle didn't slip together as accurately as they had hoped. At the end of the day they'd let me be, they had all the key members of the main family and the underlings, the two key players they were missing meant nothing when it came down to the Mayor announcing one of the biggest busts in Mob history.

Still apparently this didn't stop them trying to wheedle more information out of me, which scared me since I hadn't heard from them in over a year now, which meant they were either poking at old wounds, or they knew something.

"Did you ever withhold any information…"

A shrill piercing beeping erupted from the machine startling Anna who was posed directly in front of it as I tore the arm band off my bicep and tossed it at the seat, standing fully erect. The breathing tube and the perspiration detector following suit, as I fixed my gaze on her, my eyes narrowing as I met hers head on, challenging her.

"The FBI put you up to this?" I questioned, my tone glacial.

Anna said nothing, but that didn't matter because I already knew the answer.

"Tell them to do their own god damned dirty work." I spat before storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard behind me the glass panels trembled.


I was stalking down the corridor in rage, my fists clenched, finger nails digging into palms as I tried to take deep calming breaths. Fear was lurching inside me, filling me up as I tried to rationalise the FBI's actions.

They didn't know…

They couldn't…but they suspected.

Suspicions I could deal with.

Suspicions wouldn't land me in a federal prison.

I pinched the bridge of my noise; my eyeballs were starting to ache. A tension headache was coming on, a major one, it wasn't helping that I was grinding my jaw so tightly I was afraid I was going to break it. I put my hand to my head, as the tension began to set in, gnawing at my eyes; my head was in utter agony.

I needed my prescription meds now.

My hands were already in my bag scrambling for the small orange medicine bottle. I cracked it open, tipping two into my hand and knocking them back dry.

"Hey, can we talk for a sec?" Tim's hand was warm and soothing on my shoulder, his thumb massaging the muscles in my right shoulder.

I let out a long, deep breath, relaxing under his touch before turning around to face him. His dark eyes were searching my face, his eyebrows knotted in concern as I tried to hide the pain killers behind my back.

"Your taking your pain meds again." He stated.

My shoulders slumped in exasperation as I tossed them into my bag, nodding wearily.

"Only in extreme circumstances." I replied, rubbing my hand along the back f my neck self conscious.

Tim crossed his arms over his chest, and bowed his head.

"You walked out of the lie detector." He said.

I took into account that it was more of a statement than a question.

"Because they were asking the wrong questions…I heard you did too." I shot back, rubbing at my eyes.

"As you said they weren't asking the right questions. They use your full name?" he raised an eyebrow in humour as I nodded.

"You know how I hate that." I said, chuckling.

We shared a brief smile, before I entwined my fingers together and stared down at my hands, wondering how to approach the next subject.

"I actually wanted to talk to you too…Before Calleigh sent her report to Horatio." I added grimly.

Tim swallowed hard before nodding; his eyes on me wearily before he looked away.

"My gun misfired, I admit it. It misfired because I didn't clean it. That's why it jammed up and that's why Hollis is dead ok? Yea and I should probably resign."

He'd been struggling with this, I could see it in his eyes, in his stature, he was tired and weary and the guilt was crippling him. Seeing all that in those beautiful brown eyes pained me and I was reacting without thinking, my hands settling lightly on his hips as I took a step closer so we were barely inches apart.

"Look at me." I demanded softly.

Tim was clenching his jaw tightly as he twisted his head towards me his eyes meeting mine causing his had gaze to soften. My hands were rubbing up and down his sides; I could feel his warm skin underneath his cotton shirt, sending shivers up my spine. What I wouldn't have given to have kissed him right now, but I couldn't. It wasn't what he wanted. I could give him the comfort he needed and deserved, as a friend if nothing more.

"It was an ambush; Hollis was shot from the left hand side. There was nothing you could have done and I think you know that. You're resting far too much on your shoulders when it's not your burden to bear." I told him honestly.

Tim's hands were resting on my hips now, as he hung his head, bringing his face in close proximity to mine. I could see the sadness in his eyes, the overwhelming guilt that flooded him. I wrapped my arms around his waist; he stepped into my embrace willingly.

"It's not your fault." I murmured into his ear, stroking his unruly hair tenderly.

Tim's body relaxed against mine, his strong arms held me tight as he buried his face in my hair.

"Then why does it feel like it is?" he muttered into my shoulder.

The stubble tickled my skin as he rubbed his cheek against mine, causing my body to tense against his at the familiarity of the situation. We were both pulling away now, my reaction made us realise we were in dangerous territory, as soon as Tim drew away it occurred to me that he looked even more tired than before, maybe we were both sick of playing the same old game of dancing around each other. I took his hands, grasping his large ones tightly in my own, still standing close but not quite touching.

"It wasn't your fault. Your gun misfired; there was nothing you can do. I'm just begging you; please just clean your gun. Next time it could be you and I…" I dropped my gaze to his hands, watching my thumb trace of his knuckles delicately. "I can't face the idea of not having you in my life and the thought of that…I can't face it."

I pulled my hands away from Tim's to wipe at the tiny tears leaking from eyes with my fingertips. I knew his eyes were on my face searching and gauging my reaction.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long day…" I trailed off.

Tim's hands were cupping my face tilting it up towards his him, his thumbs brushing away the tears from underneath my eyes as gently as he could.

"I get it ok? I promise I'll clean my gun." He murmured, looking stricken and I knew it was because he'd just realized how scared I really was and that in turn scared him.

We both took a step back, back into our safety zones keeping our distances and raising our walls. Tim's arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at me with a look I couldn't interoperate.

"Look… you wanna get a drink tonight?" he asked thoughtfully.

I bit my lip shaking my head, feeling drained.

"I don't really think…"

Tim pursed his lips together before interrupting me.

"Please Kate…" he said quietly, looking away down the corridor so I couldn't catch a glimpse of his expression.

I let out a deep breath, feeling all the fight leaving me. Fighting him was getting to exhausting and I was submitting because the truth was I couldn't fight anymore. I'd tried, I really had, but I wasn't angry. I hadn't been angry in a long time. I'd been miserable and depressed. So maybe a drink wasn't a bad idea, maybe it would clear the air between us a little.

"Yea sure, I can do that." I told him as my cell phone sprung to life.

I frowned as I read the text message before me.

"I've gotta go." I said to Tim distracted, waving him off before darting down the corridor towards Horatio's office.


We were standing in Horatio's office, our eyes on the young blond CSI in front of us watching as Calleigh sat in the visitors chair unable to sit still, her foot tapping consistently, her hands playing out a drum beat on her thighs. Horatio was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, watching her intently with concerned watery blue eyes, I was along side him, watching Calleigh's movements cautiously. She'd just screwed up the polygraph and popped positive for cocaine, and from the looks of things she was definitely on something.

The reason Horatio had called me was the fact he knew I'd been in on a lot of narcotics orientated activity, and of course seen all the different packages they could come in. The Mob were notorious for running drugs back in New York, I'd been in on my fair share of handling them. That's how I'd got them to trust me.

I crouched down in front of Calleigh, offering her a kind smile as I brushed her hair back away from her face and behind her ear.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, studying her pupils, before putting a hand to her warm forehead.

"Like a hummingbird on six cups of coffee." She blurted out suddenly, rocking in her chair, while still dunning the same beat over and over again.

"Describe it to me." I said, watching her hands as she gestured vividly, almost catching me in the face.

"Confused, angry, confused…" her gaze steered suddenly towards Horatio. "I know I've said this before but I promise you I have never taken anything…"

"Are your lips numb?" I asked frowning at her erratic change of mind.

I rose to my feet, and leaned back against the desk, eyes on Calleigh at all times studying the movements and notions she went through. All of them were un-Calleigh like behaviours. Calleigh pursed her lips together as if checking.

"Yep numb."

I nodded thoughtfully, trying to work out where she could of picked up the coke.

"What have you been doing for the past eight hours?" Horatio asked Calleigh thoughtfully.

"I went with Tripp back to the scene; I found a spent casing that led to a tile place. The bullet was wedged in some tiles, Italian marble I think, I had hard time digging it out." Calleigh rambled quickly; it took me a second to realize what she'd said.

"I think she's been dosed." I murmured to Horatio, watching as Calleigh started wrinkling her nose, and pulling faces.

It would have been funny if she hadn't accidentally inhaled coke somewhere along the line and was at risk of not only losing her job but at being arrested too.

"I was thinking the same thing, you think the tile place?" Horatio asked openly.

That's what I liked about Horatio he was never afraid to ask for someone else's opinion. He'd been encouraging me to talk ever since I got here so I opened my mouth and decided to share a few titbits he may find useful.

"When I was working for the Mob, one of the first jobs they put me on was packing box full of tiles. They had specific instructions, we had to pack the tiles carefully one by one and take them to a truck. I remember wondering why the Mob was dealing tiles until one day, I dropped a box." I paused for a second; I could see both Calleigh and Horatio listening intently.

I didn't share anything about my Mob days because I felt I couldn't but things were changing, I was trusting people, and I knew that these two in particular wouldn't think anything different of me for sharing. My information was useful which added to the bonus, it was time to get things off my chest. So I took a deep breath and carried on.

"The powder bellowed up in my face and before I know it, lips are numb and I'm having a hell of a psychedelic time for the next five hours. They'd been setting the cocaine with a paste into tiles and moving them in plain sight, the problem is the tiles are fragile. So I'm thinking the tile place is doing something similar." I explained.

Horatio's eyes were still on Calleigh, whose was staring at his sunglasses in some form of awe as he played with them in his hands.

"I'll take care of her." I assured Horatio as he took out his phone and flipped it open. "I don't think she ingested much so I'll take her home and then come back."

Horatio nodded his agreement as Calleigh spring to her feet with renewed vigour, almost scaring the crap out of me. Horatio was already dialling before he out the phone up to his ear.

"Eric, we're going back to the tile place."


I was carrying two cups of take out coffee in my hands as I strolled down the corridor towards the AV Lab.

Whilst Horatio, Tripp and myself were in interrogation with the owner of the tile factory, Eric was concentrating his search for Nedir Kire. He'd ran the name through every single database we could muster and was now checking individual record one by one for any sign of the name. He's been at it three hours so far and was snapping the heads off anyone who even ventured near the lab. So I decided he needed a brief reprieve. We'd all been working solidly for over twenty four hours on this case, taking small shifts to grab a few hours sleep here and there. Our nerves were frayed, but we were diligent, added stress of IAB and the pressure from the press wasn't helping at all.

So I decided it was time for a coffee break. Especially for Eric. I'd run to the café around the corner and bought their best Coco Cabana for him. The scent was heavenly, but the taste bitter to my sensitive taste buds.

I managed to balance the coffee in one arm as I turned the handle for AV Lab. Eric's head shot up, his hazel eyes etched with tiredness and frustration. He looked as frazzled as I felt.

"Coffee." I uttered with a bright smile, which was exactly the opposite of what I was actually feeling.

I held up the two cardboard cups for him to see through the glass board with the writing on. Something catching my eye about the name at the very top of the hierarchy. I shrugged it off before returning my attention to Eric. A broad grin appeared across his face as the scent of Coco Cabana drifted towards his nostrils. I winked at him before my gaze retuned to the name on the board, it was bothering me. I tilted my head and found myself frowning as I read the name backwards.

Erik Reiden.

"Hey, Nedir Kire spells Erik Reiden backwards." I commented, pulling a face as I walked around the board and handed Eric the coffee cup.

Eric stared at me stunned, just about managing to take the cup from my hands, trying to piece together what I was saying and giving up.

"What?" Eric narrowed his eyes at the board, giving it an offended glare as he caught the meaning of my words.

"Yea it spells it backwards." I confirmed uneasily.

I felt a little awkward about the fact he'd been working on this for the past three hours and I'd just waltzed in here and realized it may just be the wrong way around.

However as I took a sip of my coffee, Eric's expression turned to one of extreme joy.

"I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you." He muttered, his fingers working quickly over the keyboard as I dropped into the seat next to him, watching as he typed the name into a search engine.

"You wouldn't be able to handle me." I teased watching as he clicked on a link, bringing up a newspaper report.

"Erik Reiden reporting on a university newspaper." He murmured out loud, scrolling down to flick over the headline and the report it's self.

I peered at the picture along side the column, recognizing the person in it. Oh man if my suspicious were right then it would make my freaking day.

"Zoom in on that picture." I requested, trying not to let my excitement get the better of me.

Eric did as I asked, bringing the picture up full screen. Happiness blossomed in my chest and for the first time in a long time I felt like cheering.

"That's our friend Enrique Rayas." I uttered, turning my head to face Eric, beaming. "Do you wanna call Horatio and let him know the good news?"

I was not the only one looking pleased, as Eric took out his cell phone and dialled Horatio's number.


The crowd of reporters were dawdling at the bottom of the steps, watching and waiting for the doors of the Crime Lab to open and reveal their prize. Rayas was a big catch, and an even bigger scoop. Reporters were like hyenas, they had no sense of loyalty.

Over the past year I'd come to hate them, I'd had a microphone jammed in my face far too many times to actually like them.

I was standing at the top as far way from the exit as I could get, my back resting against the wall that ran along side the steps. My sunglasses were over my eyes, as I watched the door open revealing a dishevelled and irate Rayas, being hurled down the steps by two burly patrol men. His hands were cuffed behind his back and I couldn't imagine anything I enjoyed seeing more right now. A smile curved across my lips as I watched the throng of reporters rush towards him, cameras clicking, microphones being thrust into his face. They had no mercy not even for one of their own.

I felt Tim's presence beside me before he spoke.

"You look like your day just got better." He remarked bemused.

"Seeing Rayas in cuffs, having a microphone shoved in his face, just made my year." I responded, taking a sidelong glance at him over the top of my sun glasses.

He was standing straight, arms crossed over his chest, his own sunglasses hiding his eyes from me, his face expressionless.

"You still wanna get that drink?" I asked, averting my gaze back to Rayas, who just had the door to the patrol car slammed in his face.

"Yea…My bike's in shop at the minute so we'll have to take your car." He informed me.

I nodded my agreement before we strode down the steps together, each in silence contemplating the trials and tribulations of the day and thanking God that it was all over.


The bar was a civilian one; a cop bar would have been too much at the current moment. We didn't need to be cops right now; we needed to be Kate and Tim, two people going for a quiet drink. The bar was anonymous and so were we. It was bristling with enough people to be deemed popular.

There were free stools against the front of the bar. The two of us slipped onto them wordlessly, Tim raised his hand towards the bartender signalling him over. The bartender gave Tim a nod of recognition, it was clear he'd been there before.

The bartender already had the bottle of tequila in his hands and was setting it down in front of us, along side two shot glasses. I raised my eyebrows as Tim reached for the bottle unscrewing the lid.

"You come here a lot?" I asked, moving the two shot glasses within his reach.

Tim shrugged, concentrating as he poured us each a shot. He wasn't in a talking mood apparently and that made me irate that he'd invited me here to be his drinking buddy. He picked up his glass the same time as I grabbed mine. We kinked glasses before throwing the drink down our throats. The liquid burnt, making me shudder as it worked its way through my body. As soon as I slammed my glass back down on the bar Tim was pouring me another.

"We are going to play a game." He told me, holding up his glass and swilling the liquid around.

"I think we're a little too old to be playing drinking games." I remarked dryly.

Tim carried on as if he hadn't heard me, tipping his glass towards me as he narrowed his eyes.

"We both get to ask each other anything, but you have to answer honestly. Each question is worth one shot of tequila so you better choose wisely because I know you can't hold your liquor." He said pointing at me.

I rolled my eyes.

"That was back then." I retorted.

"Prove it." He demanded.

"Ask your question and then I'll ask mine." I smirked.

Tim snorted, as he twirled the shot glass between his fingers, before throwing his head back and swallowing the fiery substance.

"The note." He gasped. "Why'd you leave the note?"

I was already filling up his glass with the bottle, the way I figured he had a lot more questions to ask than I did; I'd be carrying his drunken ass home at this rate.

His eyes were on me now as I rolled my glass between my hands, focusing on it rather than having to look at him.

"That's because I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. If I'd looked you in the eyes and tried to break up with you…I couldn't watch your heart break like that, I wouldn't have left. As it stands that was the only way I could do it without having you change my mind."

I took my own shot, cringing at the fire in my throat, clasping the glass to my chest as I regained my composure. Tim was sitting there looking forlorn as he fiddled with his own glass, staring into it.

"You ever gonna forgive me?" I asked, topping up my own glass.

"I'm working on it. I really am… You know I tried to fight you in the beginning, I hated you being back here, it tore me up inside." He paused, nursing his glass sadly as he looked down at the contents.

"It should have been me who'd died not Hollis, I have nothing to lose." He said, tipping his head and pouring the drink down his throat.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and as I reached out and touched his arm, Tim flinched. I drew back quickly, feeling my whole body slump in resignation.

"You have me. You always have me Tim." I said quietly, focusing on my glass instead of him.

Two shots and I was already feeling dizzy, I tried to remember when I'd last eaten…

"I had you there's a difference, we can't go on pretending this is us Kate. I want to trust you but I just can't. Your just gonna do it all over again and I can't risk that."

I nodded, taking another shot before trusting myself to speak. The alcohol was making it easier to talk, and I was determined to exploit that the best I could. Years of keeping secrets had got me nothing. So a night of telling the truth wasn't going to hurt.

"Truth be told Tim, I wish I could take it back. You have no idea how badly I want to fix this. I'm here now; I want to make this work. I can't be around you and not have you in my life at least in some way. I can't keep up this game of not talking you, of not being around you. It's wearing thin."

The drink made the words in my head come out in the open and occurred to me as he took his next shot that it was easier for him too. We could both claim ignorance in the morning, but we'd both have the answers we wanted.

"I miss you Kate, but you broke my heart... I know you can't promise to not do it again, so I'm not going to force you. I just wish things were different. Hell if you hadn't gone UC we would have been married by now."

His words cut into me deeply, as we both kinked glasses knocked back our drinks. That one had hurt us both. Five years ago I should have been Kate Speedle. Taking off that ring had hurt so damn much I almost couldn't do it.

Focusing on the past wasn't going to help us with the future that lay ahead. So I asked the questions that I needed answered, the ones that mattered now.

"Can you at least give me a chance to make up for what I've done? Do you think that you will ever be able to forgive me?" I asked him quietly.

The alcohol was taking over completely; my words were coming from my heart now instead of my head. I caught myself watching Tim's face, imagining my hands running through his dark, unruly hair, and his lips covering mine.

There was always so much left to do, so much left to say. Would that ever stop?

The way the two of us were heading I doubted it. We couldn't change our feelings but we could ignore them, get the hell as far away from each other as possible. I could go to Cuba, I declared in my head. I'd always wanted to go to Cuba, although I couldn't remember why.

So if this didn't work out, which it probably wouldn't, due to the fact we were both stupid and stubborn I was going to pack up and go to Cuba…

Maybe Europe too, I wondered how many miles it would take between us to get my heart to stop aching.

Tim was talking again now, I knew it was time to tune back in and listen. Now was the only time either of us were going to be honest with each other.

"Do you think you won't do it again? I need to know Kate before I can consider going anywhere near you." He warned me, through narrowed eyes.

The question jolted me, making me remember that this was serious. His face was tilted towards me, waiting for my reply and all I could think about was kissing those soft sensual lips.

The words slipped out before I could stop them, leaving me vulnerable and naked, for some reason I didn't have the ability to lie when I was drunk, which was why I'd spent six years sober.

"I can't honestly say I won't ever go UC again, but I promise you that I won't do what I did again. If you are in my life, even just as a friend, I won't leave. If you aren't in my life, well, who knows, there'd be nothing left for me in Miami." I informed him, with a tiny shrug of my shoulders.

It was true, and I hadn't realized how much so until then. If he rejected me again I was out of here. There was only so much bruising my heart could take and Cuba was still looking good right now.

I always thought of Cuba when I was drunk, I liked the rustic idealism of the place, the tourism side of the culture. I liked the idea of getting lost there. In my sober hours there wasn't a chance in hell I was ever going there, there was far too much political unrest for me to step foot on the place, too much violence to counteract. But when I was drunk, it seemed like a safe haven. Which was why I was glad they did not let drunk people on flights.

I turned my attention back to Tim who swallowed hard before nodding his agreement at the uneasy stalemate that had been formed between us.

"I suppose that's good enough for now...so friends?" he reached his hand out to shake mine.

I stared at it suspiciously before taking it. His rough hand enclosing on mine, reminding me of what they would feel like roaming my body…

"And I promise I'll try not to pounce on you again like in the locker room…and the Hummer." he added, with a smirk as I shivered.

He was so not helping chase away the images in my head right now. I longed to feel him pressing against me, his fingertips digging into my hips as he guided himself inside me…

"I really wasn't complaining." I remarked, feeling the heat rush through my body, hoping my face wasn't portraying my thoughts.

My body was aching for him. There was a fire inside me that was unfulfilled and wanting. The truth was I hadn't been satisfied in a long time.

Tim's fingertip traced a line from the centre of my forehead and down along my nose before trailing along the curve of my lips. I kissed the end of his finger before parting my lips and letting my tongue flick along the underside. Tim's entire body tensed as he withdrew his finger from my mouth, and leaned forward so his lips were next to my ear. His hand slipped across my body so it rested on my side pulling me closer to him, and I had to say, I went willingly.

"You know, I think you kinda liked being pressed up against the Hummer, my hands touching all over your body, where anyone could catch us." His hot breath on my ear was making my body tingle, his hand was rubbing my soft skin through the silk and it felt so damn good.

"You know I was never one for much modesty. I would let you do pretty much anything you wanted to me. Anywhere you wanted me." I spoke in a low tone, tipping my head back, as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of my camisole, kneading the sensitive flesh underneath.

I rose against his touch, my hands coming to settle on his hips so I could keep myself close to him. I revelled in his masculine scent as I tipped my head back exposing my throat to his lips, my hands gliding underneath his shirt and scrapping across his skin.

His deep intake of breath told me everything I wanted to know and more, I could already feel the intense heat rushing through my body, eager under his touch, desperate to hear his husky moans as he thrust inside me.

"Does that mean right now, you'd let me take you home and remind you why you were with me in the first place?" he murmured against my skin, his lips feather light, making me shudder against him, demanding more.

I wasn't surprised by his words, and I wasn't offended. I wanted him more than anything, body, heart and soul, and I knew as he shifted under my wandering hands that this may just be my chance to fix everything I'd broken.

"Don't make offers unless you are willing to follow through with them." I warned him.

I pulled back so our faces were merely inches apart. I could feel his ragged breath on my face already, his hunger shone in his eyes, filled with desire and tinged with need. My god I wanted him so badly. My panties were getting wet just thinking about what he was going to do to me with those skilled hands.

"One night, me and you, just like old times." He murmured.

His dark eyes strayed downwards as I bit down on my bottom lip, his finger tips were toying with the waist band of my trousers, making my body clench at his unspoken promises.

We were bold and fearless, the drink had seen to that. All the tension between us was melting away. The walls we'd created were breaking down, giving way to our lust and desire for one another. I craved the sensation of his supple skin on mine. I wanted, no, I needed him buried deep inside me, chasing away the fears brought on by the day.

"Like I said, anytime, anywhere. But do you really think that one time will be enough?" I challenged, raising an articulate eyebrow.

"If it stops me imagining the things I do...Then yea I hope so."

I drew back, realizing this for what it really was. A one night stand. Something to take away his fear and his pain. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn't want to think about that, my drink fogged brain told me I didn't have to, right now this was the highest I'd ever been in years. I had to see it through. I needed to do this because I needed to feel alive and he was the only one I trusted to let me let go of everything I was holding onto.

"I don't think that will be enough for you." I whispered against his bristled cheek.

"We'll have to wait and see, if it develops into something more. If not...well we had fun." He reasoned, his hand trailing up my bare arm, affectionate and enticing as he played with the thin straps of my camisole and bra.

"So, are you going to just keep telling me what fun we can have? Or are you going to show me?" I teased, my hand resting on his leg through the denim of his jeans.

I let my fingers slip to his inner thigh and, nails dragging along the seam of his jeans until I felt the hem of his boxers through the tight material. His body was rigid against me as his lips brushed my ear again.

"I could tell you if you wanted. About how I want to get you home, peel off your clothes one by one and…"

I couldn't take anymore; his ministrations on my body were driving me insane. So I silenced him with deep and passionate kiss, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, as I slipped off the stool stumbling into his body. Tim's strong arms wrapped around my waist holding me steady as he drew away, breathless.

"You're coming home with me tonight." He told me, the intense look in his eyes making my knees go weak.

There was not a chance in hell that I was going to say no.


We were barely inside Tim's door before it started.

Tim's lips were already on mine, devouring my mouth with a hunger that neither of us could control. My tongue was in his mouth, exploring and tentative as I grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him close against me. I could feel his lean muscles underneath his clothes as Tim's hands rested on my hips holding me firm against him as he guided us through to the living room.

One hand was in my hair as he slammed me against the wall, his teeth grazing my neck making my body squirm against him as his lips trailed downwards to my collar bone. His tongue flickered out tracing along the soft skin there as his hands caressed me through the silk of my top, drawing it slowly upwards with each kiss he placed on my supple skin.

Tim's mouth drew away for a brief second to pull the top over my head, before his lips reclaimed mine, his tongue slipped into my mouth deep and searching making me melt against his body. His coarse hands traced the outline of my body making my skin tingle as I pressed myself against him. Tim's body was responding to mine as always, I could feel his erection through my trousers as he ground against me, pinning my body to the wall with his. I let out a loud moan at the sensation, tearing at his shirt, needing to feel his bare skin against mine.

My fingers were already on the buttons of his shirt, as I started to undo them one by one. My lips took the place of each button, gently nipping and kissing down his firm muscles until I was on my knees in front of him. Tim's hands were tangled in my hair as I undid the fly on his jeans and tugged them down around his ankles. His erection was impressive even though the soft material of his boxer shorts. Just knowing that I'd caused it, sent a thrill through me. I ran a hand up his inner thigh letting my hand glide over his erection as my mouth caressed his cock through the thin material. My fingers clasped the hem of his boxers before I slid them down his muscular thighs whilst Tim watched my tongue lick all the way up his shaft of his cock and then back down again. I paused helping him out of his boots, underwear and jeans before letting my nails graze their way up along the back of his thighs and over his ass.

Tim shuddered as I flicked my tongue across the tip of his cock before I wrapped my lips around it, taking the length of him in my mouth. Tim gasped at the sudden motion, his hands pulling at my hair as I began to move slowly, savouring the taste of him in my mouth. Tim's hips were moving in time with me as he thrust between my lips. His breathing was coming in ragged pants, as his grip on my hair tightened, only turning me on more.

"Jesus Kate." He muttered in between breathes.

His body was beginning to tense. His moans getting louder. He was close now, but I wasn't finished with him.

I pulled my mouth away and rose to my feet. Tim's hands were on my body, roaming all over as his lips crashed down on mine. I was losing myself in him all over again as I felt myself being propelled backwards towards an open doorway. Before I knew it we were in his bed room standing before the unmade bed.

His hands were running up my back towards my bra clasp, it joined his shirt on the floor. Our kisses were hot and feverish, his tongue teasing mine with promises that I knew he could fulfil. His hands kneaded my breasts gently making me press against him as Tim backed me towards the bed. His fingers were already undoing the button on my trousers eagerly. A wave of pure pleasure rushed through me as his lips enclosed around my nipple, sending me into a frenzy as his tongue lapped at the firm bud. His other hand was guiding my trousers down my thighs so I could step out of them. I moaned out loud as his hand trailed gently up the sensitive inner thigh and came to trace my clit through my soaked silk underwear. I clutched him to me as the tingling sensation gripped me, making me tremble under his touch.

"You're so wet." He moaned, before his mouth kissed a pathway to my other nipple, devouring it hungrily.

My knees went weak as he lowered me gently to the bed bracing himself naked, on top of me.

His fingertips were tracing the top of my panties, tender and teasing before he slipped his hand underneath the lace waist band.

I moaned out loud as his fingers rubbed over my slick clit before he slid two fingers inside of me suddenly.

My body arched against his hand, his fingers seeking out my sweet spot, as I cried out his name. My hands were in his hair now, tugging at it as his teeth grazed my throat. His fingers were moving faster now, hitting that same spot over and over again. My nails were raking across his back as he brought me closer and closer to the release I so desperately needed.

"You're gonna make me cum." I told him between my illicit moans as the waves of ecstasy hit me, becoming more and more powerful as his skilled fingers moved inside me.

Tim removed his fingers suddenly, leaving me almost whimpering and begging for more. His lips moved to my ear as his hands wrenched my panties downwards. I couldn't wait any longer; I needed him to fuck me now.

"I'm going to make you cum all over my cock." He murmured hoarsely, sending a thrill of excitement through me.

His body was pressing against mine, his skin slick with perspiration as he positioned himself between my legs. His eyes were on mine, watching my face as he rubbed his naked erection against my wetness. I arched against him, as he teased my sensitive nerves, pushing me right to the edge again and again until I was begging him to fuck me.

"Please. I need you right now." I pleaded.

My whole body was a slave to him, and I knew he liked having me in this position.

A ghost of a smile crossed Tim's lips as he bent his head to meet my lips. Our tongues mingled together as he slid inside me slowly, inch by inch. I bit down on his lip as my body bucked underneath his at the sudden burst of pleasure at him filling me. He was moaning into my mouth as he began to thrust deep inside me. I moved my hips in time with his as the pace began to quicken, my breathing ragged. My nails were scraping across his back as each thrust brought me closer to that ultimate release. We were getting close now, I could see it in the way his face contorted above me and in the sound of his husky moans as he drove harder and deeper into me. His beautiful brown eyes were watching my face as I begin to whimper at the promise of impending orgasm.

"I love you."

The words had come from his lips and not mine.

I couldn't say a word, my throat constricted with the power of the emotions that were claiming us. His lips were covering mine again; desperate and wanting as he felt my body beginning to tense underneath him.

My hands were running up his back, nails scrapping across his skin as the first wave of pleasure took over my body, tearing through me, causing my grip on his body tightened as my muscles contracted around him. His name on my lips as he thrust one last time, his body shuddering against me, his face buried in my neck as he whispered my name. My hands caressed the firm muscles of his back as we lay there, my hand running through his thick, unruly hair, caught in a moment of sheer bliss.

Tim was the first to move, his lips trailing down my neck as he slid himself out of me and rolled into the space next to bed.

Tim reached for the duvet yanking it over us both, his warm body pressed against mine as his arm wrapped around my waist. I twisted under the sheets so my back was pressed against his chest. His mouth was kissing along the back of my neck making me sigh in contentment.

"I missed that." He whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

Tim's nose was tickling my neck and made me giggle as his lips followed the trail it was leaving.

"I didn't ask about birth control." he said suddenly, it only just occurring to him.

I turned in his arms to face him, seeing him looking stricken at his own lack of responsibility. I tilted my head to look up at him pointedly.

"And you used to be Mr Responsible." I teased before turning serious again. "I'm on the pill."

The sigh of relief that left his body was clearly visible and I found I rolled my eyes at him.

"No offence Speedle but it's a little too early for you to be knocking me up." I informed him wearily.

"I don't want kids." He stated, his eyes already closed, his voice sleepy.

"Good." I responded, snuggling closer into his chest.

Tim's hand was in my hair, guiding my head into a comfortable position on his chest. I could hear his heart beat against my ear as my body relaxed, his hand absently stroking my hair as tiredness began to overtake me.

For the second time today I thanked God for sparing Tim Speedle.


Well I hope this chapter goes down a lot better than the last one did. I'm pouting here at the lack of reviews on it. I slaved over this chapter so I'd love to know what you all think.

Also special thanks to My Little Miss Montana, you know who you are chica, this wouldn't have been possible without you urging me on all the way.

Blue: lol I demand brownies!! Lol I seriously deserve some after this chapter. Thankies for the review, glad to know there's cookies coming my way.

BEG: lol I almost needed a cold shower writing it. Lol I'm doing a little packing at the moment, which always makes me a little sad. I'm glad the story's bring joy to someone. Kate is just a hard ass, she's my fav OC at the min, and as you know I have a lot of plans for her. I can't wait for her to kick some proper ass. I'm looking forward to Grave Young Men.

Mauveine: lol Eric is way the light relief between the two of them. I love writing them together because there's so much pushing and pulling. It is heart breaking. He tries to figure things out. Lol I know abut the flash back I was like where did that come from? But you started the ball rolling with the perfume idea, and Speed naked, the idea makes me melt. Lol I so would have done a Kate and looked!