Disclaimer - I don't own these characters, including Tim Speedle (sigh),
but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?
Pairings - Tim/OC, Eric/Valera, Horatio/Calleigh
Rating - To be determined
Summary - Sequel to Three Hundred Sixty Five Days and Love Lost Returned. A Miami cop is killed by a kidnapper wanted by the FBI in Washington D.C., bringing Leanna's fiancé Jonathan to Miami while she and Tim await the birth of their child.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Whatcha got Frank?" Speed asked, hopping out of the Hummer with Eric right behind him, crossing the street to where Frank stood.
The elder detective's head was hung low, his shoulders slumped. "A dead cop," he answered wearily.
"Jesus, shot right through the eyes," Eric shook his head. Cop killings were the worst. Chances were always pretty good you'd know the person and even if you didn't – it was a fellow police officer, your colleague.
"At least it was quick, Frank," Speed acknowledged, photographing the body and the surrounding boulevard. A half-mile in either direction had been blocked off to traffic, allowing the CSIs complete access to the crime scene.
"Yeah," the detective answered quickly. "I've known Mike Rodriguez for twelve years. Our sons play baseball together. Melissa and his wife Jackie play Bunko every Friday night." Frank fought back the tears fighting for release. "I just don't know what I'm going to tell Jackie," he choked out.
"I've got a fast-food cup," Eric said, picking up the container with his gloved fingers. "Maybe we can get some prints off of this."
"What did you get off Rodrigeuz's camera?" Speed asked, pointing to the camera mounted in the patrol car.
"Haven't looked at it yet. Haven't touched a thing," Tripp shook his head. "I want this done right," he stated plainly.
"Always," Tim answered, placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "We'll get this guy, Frank."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"How's the most beautiful mommy-to-be in the whole world?" Tim asked his very pregnant wife later that afternoon. Leanna had taken to working only half-days for the past month, so she was home by one every day.
Leanna scoffed at the mere suggestion she might still be beautiful. "I feel like a beached whale and it's all your kid's fault," she teased into the phone, eliciting a huge grin from her husband on the other end. His heart skipped a beat every time Leanna referred to the baby as his kid. "I haven't seen my feet in a month," she continued to complain gently, "I'm hungry but nothing tastes good and it's hot in here."
Tim laughed. "How can it possibly be hot in the house, Lea?" He'd resorted to wearing layers – including a sweatshirt and sometimes a coat. Their last electric bill was $350 – and it was February. Tim guessed, but refused to speculate aloud, that the reason Leanna's boss had suggested she start working half-days was that they could no longer afford for her to be there all day – freezing them all out.
"It just is," she answered.
"Then go turn the thermostat down some more," he said gently.
"I'm tired and it's all the way down the hall," she whined.
Tim swallowed another laugh, covering the phone with his hand. Only two more weeks, he shook his head. "Well, I'll be home in a little while and I'll turn it down for you. Can I bring you anything?"
She sighed, contemplating her choices. "I don't care whatever you want. Oh wait, no, Chinese. No, a hamburger. Wait, maybe a pizza? No, that gives me heartburn. What about a hamburger?"
"What else?" he asked, writing down her selections.
"Fries and a chocolate shake."
"Sure all that salt is good for my kid?"
"Timothy James Speedle, don't start with me."
"Yes, dear," he grinned. "I'll be home later. I love you."
He disconnected the phone and returned it to his hip. Eric sat on the stool next to him, smiling widely.
"What?" Tim asked defensively.
"Nothing," Eric laughed, "I just hope it's a long time before Valera gets pregnant. I'm not sure I can handle all the whining."
"Just got to know how to deal with it, my friend," Tim answered, sliding a tread sample from the suspect's car in for analysis. "And in the end, they'll be a little bit of Tim and Leanna DNA running around forever."
"Yeah," Eric rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the AFIS computer. "Hey, check it out," he said, "I've got a hit from the fast-food cup."
Speed rolled his stool over to Delko's computer. "Angela Harmon," he read aloud, "age 7?"
"That's what it says," Eric answered.
"There's a link, man, click on it," Speed demanded.
Eric moved the mouse to the link, clicking on the red flashing federal alert. "She was reported missing three days ago in Washington, D.C."
"Who reported her missing?" Speed asked, reading over his shoulder.
Eric scanned the attached report. "Get this," he started, "Angela's mother reported her missing. Julia Scanlon Harmon, a federal judge."
"And how long do we have before the feds get here, now that they know we've got matching fingerprints?" Speed asked bitterly, not really expecting an answer from his best friend.
"You think you'd like the feds a little more, you're married to one," Eric reminded him.
"She's a profiler, that's different," Speed argued; then sighed heavily. "Let's go tell Horatio to expect the cavalry."
TBC.....
Pairings - Tim/OC, Eric/Valera, Horatio/Calleigh
Rating - To be determined
Summary - Sequel to Three Hundred Sixty Five Days and Love Lost Returned. A Miami cop is killed by a kidnapper wanted by the FBI in Washington D.C., bringing Leanna's fiancé Jonathan to Miami while she and Tim await the birth of their child.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Whatcha got Frank?" Speed asked, hopping out of the Hummer with Eric right behind him, crossing the street to where Frank stood.
The elder detective's head was hung low, his shoulders slumped. "A dead cop," he answered wearily.
"Jesus, shot right through the eyes," Eric shook his head. Cop killings were the worst. Chances were always pretty good you'd know the person and even if you didn't – it was a fellow police officer, your colleague.
"At least it was quick, Frank," Speed acknowledged, photographing the body and the surrounding boulevard. A half-mile in either direction had been blocked off to traffic, allowing the CSIs complete access to the crime scene.
"Yeah," the detective answered quickly. "I've known Mike Rodriguez for twelve years. Our sons play baseball together. Melissa and his wife Jackie play Bunko every Friday night." Frank fought back the tears fighting for release. "I just don't know what I'm going to tell Jackie," he choked out.
"I've got a fast-food cup," Eric said, picking up the container with his gloved fingers. "Maybe we can get some prints off of this."
"What did you get off Rodrigeuz's camera?" Speed asked, pointing to the camera mounted in the patrol car.
"Haven't looked at it yet. Haven't touched a thing," Tripp shook his head. "I want this done right," he stated plainly.
"Always," Tim answered, placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "We'll get this guy, Frank."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"How's the most beautiful mommy-to-be in the whole world?" Tim asked his very pregnant wife later that afternoon. Leanna had taken to working only half-days for the past month, so she was home by one every day.
Leanna scoffed at the mere suggestion she might still be beautiful. "I feel like a beached whale and it's all your kid's fault," she teased into the phone, eliciting a huge grin from her husband on the other end. His heart skipped a beat every time Leanna referred to the baby as his kid. "I haven't seen my feet in a month," she continued to complain gently, "I'm hungry but nothing tastes good and it's hot in here."
Tim laughed. "How can it possibly be hot in the house, Lea?" He'd resorted to wearing layers – including a sweatshirt and sometimes a coat. Their last electric bill was $350 – and it was February. Tim guessed, but refused to speculate aloud, that the reason Leanna's boss had suggested she start working half-days was that they could no longer afford for her to be there all day – freezing them all out.
"It just is," she answered.
"Then go turn the thermostat down some more," he said gently.
"I'm tired and it's all the way down the hall," she whined.
Tim swallowed another laugh, covering the phone with his hand. Only two more weeks, he shook his head. "Well, I'll be home in a little while and I'll turn it down for you. Can I bring you anything?"
She sighed, contemplating her choices. "I don't care whatever you want. Oh wait, no, Chinese. No, a hamburger. Wait, maybe a pizza? No, that gives me heartburn. What about a hamburger?"
"What else?" he asked, writing down her selections.
"Fries and a chocolate shake."
"Sure all that salt is good for my kid?"
"Timothy James Speedle, don't start with me."
"Yes, dear," he grinned. "I'll be home later. I love you."
He disconnected the phone and returned it to his hip. Eric sat on the stool next to him, smiling widely.
"What?" Tim asked defensively.
"Nothing," Eric laughed, "I just hope it's a long time before Valera gets pregnant. I'm not sure I can handle all the whining."
"Just got to know how to deal with it, my friend," Tim answered, sliding a tread sample from the suspect's car in for analysis. "And in the end, they'll be a little bit of Tim and Leanna DNA running around forever."
"Yeah," Eric rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the AFIS computer. "Hey, check it out," he said, "I've got a hit from the fast-food cup."
Speed rolled his stool over to Delko's computer. "Angela Harmon," he read aloud, "age 7?"
"That's what it says," Eric answered.
"There's a link, man, click on it," Speed demanded.
Eric moved the mouse to the link, clicking on the red flashing federal alert. "She was reported missing three days ago in Washington, D.C."
"Who reported her missing?" Speed asked, reading over his shoulder.
Eric scanned the attached report. "Get this," he started, "Angela's mother reported her missing. Julia Scanlon Harmon, a federal judge."
"And how long do we have before the feds get here, now that they know we've got matching fingerprints?" Speed asked bitterly, not really expecting an answer from his best friend.
"You think you'd like the feds a little more, you're married to one," Eric reminded him.
"She's a profiler, that's different," Speed argued; then sighed heavily. "Let's go tell Horatio to expect the cavalry."
TBC.....
