Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, including Tim
Speedle, (sigh), but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?
Rating: R, R, and more R
Pairings: Speed/OC, Speed/Calleigh, Calleigh/?
Summary: The team searches for a serial killer before he strikes again, bringing an old flame back to Miami and destroying Tim's precarious relationship with Calleigh.
A/N: This story just would not leave me alone! I went back and re- read it the other day and decided that I could do better. Therefore, I am reposting the story with corrections, no major changes. This time, I have given a lot more backstory on the fight that broke Tim and Leanna up, among other things.
Chapter 8
"I can't work this stupid thing with you doing that," Leanna said, struggling with the key card for the hotel room while Tim sucked gently on her neck.
"Figure it out," he demanded, "Cause I'm not stopping."
"Oh," she moaned as his tongue tickled the soft spot where her neck and shoulders met. She pressed her hands against the door and Tim tightened his grip on her waist. "Now that's just not fair," she complained.
Sticking the card in the slot one last time before she gave up and let him make love to her in the hall, she almost cried when she heard the merciful click. Tim pushed the door open with one hand and scooped Leanna into his arms, continuing his oral assault on the spot.
He laid her gently in the center of the bed and stood to remove his jacket. He then slid her shoes off, allowing them to fall on the carpeted floor with a thunk. "Hey, those weren't cheap, buster," she teased, caressing the bulge in his pants with her foot. He groaned deeply and captured the foot, kissing a wet trail over her ankle, up her calf and onto her thigh, slowly aligning his body with hers.
Her hand picked up where the foot had left off, caressing and massaging him through the fabric of his pants. She sensed his growing need, releasing the restraints of his slacks, sliding her hand beneath the waistband of boxers, finding him hard and throbbing. "I love you," he moaned as her fingers enveloped him.
"Show me," she demanded, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth as she kissed him. She guided his hand under her dress, silently begging to be touched. He pushed the tiny fabric of her thong aside, dipping his finger into her silky wetness. She cried his name with all the passion he remembered and more, riding his finger as she stroked him with one hand and unbuttoned his shirt with the other.
"I want to see you, Lea," he said, sliding his finger out of her and quieting her cries with a kiss that promised so much more. "I want to do this right," he explained, sitting up and pulling her onto his lap, so that her legs were straddling his.
He slowly unzipped her dress, kissing the flesh he exposed as he drew the spaghetti straps down. She let the fabric slink down her body, revealing a perfection he had thought he might never see again. His heart seemed to stop as he touched her alabaster skin, so perfect, so creamy beneath his fingers. Reaching for the hem of the dress, he raised it over her head, capturing a taut nipple in his mouth.
"Make love to me, Tim," she cried, rocking against him. Sliding his shirt past his shoulders, she traced the outline of his ear with her tongue, eliciting a groan from deep within him. "Make love to me," she whispered.
He stood, spinning them around and placing her on the bed again. He quickly shed his slacks and boxers, and marveled at her beauty while she waited for him. He leaned over her, placing small kisses on her abdomen, guiding the thongs down her legs and onto the floor.
He nudged her legs further apart with his knee and came to rest between them. He slipped two fingers inside her again, preparing her body for his. His thumb brushed her clit and Leanna came undone. He grinned at her writhing beneath him, riding his fingers with near-desperation as he stroked her. "Slow down, baby," he encouraged.
She captured his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. "Next time," she demanded. Tim happily obliged, raising her buttocks as he reached down to join them.
The shrill ring of the hotel phone shattered the moment, just before Tim buried himself inside her.
"You've got to be kidding me!" she cried, wriggling out from under him and reaching for the phone. "WHAT?" she demanded of the caller.
Her attention was captured and she sat up, listening as Horatio detailed the evening's events. Tim was oblivious, suckling her neck and tracing circles over her breast.
"Okay," she said irritably, "we're on our way."
"I don't think so," Tim responded as Leanna placed the phone back in the cradle. He lifted her onto his lap, letting his hand drift between her legs again. "We aren't going anywhere."
"Tim, stop," she demanded, grabbing for his hand. "Horatio has a suspect in custody."
"I don't care," he said flatly, caressing a breast with his tongue. "I don't have to interrogate suspects."
"Yeah, but I do," she said dejectedly, rising from Tim's lap. She crossed to the dresser and opened the first drawer, taking out a black lace bra and a pair of panties. He stood behind her, lifting her hair from her shoulders to attack the spot again. "All I need is five minutes," he begged, his sex sliding against her bare backside.
She spun to face him. "You're the one who wanted to do this right and now you're begging for five minutes? If we'd gone my speed, we'd be basking in the afterglow," she teased, sliding the panties up her legs and fastening the bra. She kissed him passionately. "Get dressed," she then ordered, tossing him his shirt. "You'll just have to suffer for now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Glad you could join us," Eric teased when Speed stalked into the break room. "I called your cell phone like 10 times, I, uh, guess you didn't hear it with your pants thrown on the floor."
"You know what?" Tim shot back, pouring a cup of very black coffee and avoiding Calleigh's hardened stare, "You can kiss my ass, Delko. I was asleep," he lied.
Eric collapsed into a fit of laughter. "Oh, okay, is that what we're calling it these days?"
"Eric," Speed warned, shooting a steely glare at his best friend, "Shut up."
"Come on, man, it's me, you can tell me how it was, knocking boots with your lady love," Eric thrust his hips out, causing Calleigh to jump from the couch and run out of the room.
"I told you to shut up," Tim exclaimed, heading out the door after Calleigh.
He found her in the locker room with her head rested on the door, breathing slowly. "Calleigh," he said quietly.
She righted herself and turned to face him. "What's going to happen when Leanna goes back to Washington, Tim?"
Tim straddled the bench and sat down. "She's not going back to Washington."
"Really?" Calleigh crossed her arms. "Have you discussed that?"
"Not yet."
She snickered. "Then what have you discussed, exactly?"
"We're going to get married," he answered honestly.
"She's already engaged, Tim," Calleigh argued. "How can she being marrying this guy in Washington and marrying you too?"
"It's over between her and Jonathan."
Calleigh's expression was smug. "In four years, Leanna doesn't come back to see you one time. She's here less than a week, you two decide you're going to get married, and she just drops the guy in Washington?"
"Something like that, yeah," he answered defensively.
"So, she's going to quit the FBI, leave all her personal belongings in DC, never go back there, never tell her fiancé she's leaving him for you?"
"We haven't made it that far, Calleigh," he said harshly.
"Well, if I were you, I'd get there quick. After all, she didn't back for you, Tim. She came back for this case. We've got the guy in custody. We won't exactly be needing her services in a few days time." Calleigh stormed out of the locker room, leaving Tim in a stunned silence.
Doubts began to flood his mind, and fear crept into his heart. Maybe Calleigh was right. Leanna had come home for the case, not for him. Tim ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
A million questions raced through his brain, but one was beginning to haunt him. If she'd fallen back in love with him so easily, would she do the same thing with Jonathan when she went back to Washington?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Nice ring," Horatio commented to his suspect.
Leanna stood at the corner of the room, observing the interrogation. Vincent Wagner sat stoically in his chair, arms crossed firmly at his chest. He was classically handsome, some might even call him beautiful. He was well-groomed and clean shaven, tall and lean. Vincent's eyes where the clearest blue Leanna had ever seen, but they were empty, completely devoid of emotion as he responded to Horatio in a monotone voice.
"I want a lawyer."
"Tell me about the ring, Vincent," Horatio coerced. "It's very unusual."
Vincent laughed in his face. "No."
Eric rapped lightly on the door and handed a stack of papers to Leanna. "This is the best I can do," he said genuinely, "but I'm still working on it."
"Thanks," she smiled, leafing through the papers. "Vincent?" she asked, "is your social security number 405-98-4218?"
"Yes," he answered quickly.
"That's odd, because that number turns up information on a Victoria Wagner. Is she your sister?" Leanna probed.
"I want a lawyer," he repeated each word slowly. "Are you people deaf or something?"
A robust man burst through the interrogation room door. "Max Klein, Mr. Wagner's attorney. I trust you haven't been interrogating my client without his counsel present." He took the seat next to Wagner and opened his briefcase.
"I was just asking Mr. Wagner about his ring, Counselor." Horatio stated simply.
"His ring?" Klein asked incredulously. "What's the matter Caine, lacking for small talk at this ungodly hour of the morning?"
Horatio smiled. "Not at all." He tossed a photograph in front of Klein. "Your client was wearing this ring when he murdered at least four of my eight victims."
Klein scoffed at the suggestion. "These aren't even the same men, Caine. Christ, you're really losing your touch, you know? The great Horatio Caine can't even see that this guy has blonde hair and this guy has dark hair?"
"The ring's the same in both photographs and it's identical to the one your client is wearing," Leanna countered.
"I'd think a woman with your incredible taste in jewelry," he said, spotting the wedding band she still wore, "would realize that even that gorgeous piece you're wearing now most likely isn't one of a kind."
"This is little more than a co-ink-e-dink, Caine," he drawled. "It's four in the morning, I'm going home and I'm taking my client with me."
Horatio stopped Klein as he stood. "Why don't you just hang out here until my team is finished processing Mr. Wagner's home?" He handed Klein the court order, adding, "I don't believe in coincidences."
"Besides that, there a tiny matter of Vincent using someone else's Social Security number." Leanna handed Klein the printout Eric had given her. "The Social Security card we found in Vincent's wallet led us to a Victoria Wagner."
Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Leanna continued, "I asked Mr. Wagner about it, but he wanted a lawyer."
Klein glumly handed the sheet back to Leanna. "My client is falsely using the social security card. Victoria Wagner is Mr. Wagner's birth name."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tim photographed Vincent Wagner's desk table before picking up the open journal. "Another night on the prowl," he read aloud, "another woman to pay the price for HER sins."
"The her is emphasized," Calleigh read over his shoulder. "Maybe he means someone else, not the victim?"
"Maybe," He was reluctant to agree, still reeling from their conversation earlier. He bagged the journal and placed it in his field kit.
"What do you make of this?" Eric called, pulling a strap-on penis out of the closet.
"Is that what I think it is?" Tim asked, photographing it as Eric laid it on the bed.
"This is some kinky shit," Eric sighed.
"I've got lots of medical bills - all from a plastic surgeon in Coral Gables," Calleigh stated. "Vincent's had some work done recently. Wow," she exclaimed, examining one of the bills, "A lot of work. This total is almost one hundred thousand dollars."
"If I were a psychopath serial killer, where would I hide a gun?" Tim wondered aloud, lifting the mattress and looking underneath.
"Bedside table?" Calleigh answered, "That's where I keep mine."
Tim opened the nightstand drawer and peered inside. "Well that's not very creative, " Tim frowned. "It's a 9, Cal."
Calleigh took the gun from Speed, bagging it quickly. "I'm off to get a match."
"Later," Eric waved. "Well, lookee what we have here," he said, producing a small knife from a small wooden box he'd found in the back of Vincent's closet.
"I should be really pissed that our genius killer turns out to be such a screw-up. What kind of idiot leaves the murder weapons laying around?" Speed complained.
"Yeah, but at least you and Leanna can get back to knocking boots faster," Eric teased.
"Like you and Valera weren't going after it, all that bumping and grinding you were doing on the dance floor the other night?"
"Man, I never denied it," he shot back. "You're the one who said you were sleeping."
"I thought that's what we were calling it these days?" Tim deadpanned. "Seriously, though, what do you think of Leanna?"
Eric shrugged. "She's great man. Smart, gorgeous, great personality, and she's head over heels in love with you. What more could you want?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Calleigh hummed to herself while comparing the striations on her test fire of Wagner's weapon to the bullets they'd recovered from the husbands. Horatio had quietly entered the lab, and Calleigh just couldn't help it - she began to smile.
"Calleigh?"
"Hello, Handsome."
Horatio grinned. "What do you have for me?"
"Everything you ever wanted and more," she teased, relinquishing the microscope to him. "I have a match."
"Wagner's 9?"
She beamed. "One in the same."
"Good work," he congratulated her.
Calleigh beamed at his compliment. "Well, what can I say?"
"That I can take you to dinner tonight?" he asked cautiously.
Calleigh's smile faded into shock. "What?"
"Dinner. I'd like to take you to dinner, Calleigh." Horatio then offered her one of his melt your heart smiles.
A thousand thoughts raced through Calleigh's mind. Horatio Caine had just asked her out on a date. He'd kissed her, to be sure, but Calleigh had already chalked that up to the moment. "Uh, okay?" she stated, somewhat unsure of herself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speed caught up to Leanna and Horatio in the hallway. "Blood on the knife." He handed Horatio the report. "Vincent cleaned it, but he missed the sweet spot between the blood and the handle."
Horatio skimmed the report. "DNA from each of our victims, good job Speed."
Leanna pulled on Tim's shirt playfully. "I could kiss you right now."
Tim turned his cheek when she leaned in. "We're at work, Lea," he said coldly.
She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm fine, just a little tired. I'll, uh, catch up with you later."
"Yeah, okay," she answered. Tim headed off to the lab.
Horatio's eyes were wide. "What was that all about?"
Leanna was stunned. "I have no idea. One minute he's asking me to marry him, the next minute he's giving me the cold shoulder."
"Leanna? This might not be the time or the place, but..." Horatio placed his hands on his hips.
Leanna held up her hand to cut him off. "I'm going to request a transfer to the Miami field office, Horatio. I contacted them this morning. I'm going back to Washington for a few days, talk to Jonathan, pack up my stuff, pay my landlord a large fortune to get out of my lease early - then I'm coming home."
"Leanna?"
She placed a hand on his arm. "I love Tim, Horatio. I know now that's never changed. Love that's survived everything we've survived - and for four years - that's love."
Horatio placed a gentle kiss on her temple. "Well then, let me be the first to congratulate you on your engagement."
Rating: R, R, and more R
Pairings: Speed/OC, Speed/Calleigh, Calleigh/?
Summary: The team searches for a serial killer before he strikes again, bringing an old flame back to Miami and destroying Tim's precarious relationship with Calleigh.
A/N: This story just would not leave me alone! I went back and re- read it the other day and decided that I could do better. Therefore, I am reposting the story with corrections, no major changes. This time, I have given a lot more backstory on the fight that broke Tim and Leanna up, among other things.
Chapter 8
"I can't work this stupid thing with you doing that," Leanna said, struggling with the key card for the hotel room while Tim sucked gently on her neck.
"Figure it out," he demanded, "Cause I'm not stopping."
"Oh," she moaned as his tongue tickled the soft spot where her neck and shoulders met. She pressed her hands against the door and Tim tightened his grip on her waist. "Now that's just not fair," she complained.
Sticking the card in the slot one last time before she gave up and let him make love to her in the hall, she almost cried when she heard the merciful click. Tim pushed the door open with one hand and scooped Leanna into his arms, continuing his oral assault on the spot.
He laid her gently in the center of the bed and stood to remove his jacket. He then slid her shoes off, allowing them to fall on the carpeted floor with a thunk. "Hey, those weren't cheap, buster," she teased, caressing the bulge in his pants with her foot. He groaned deeply and captured the foot, kissing a wet trail over her ankle, up her calf and onto her thigh, slowly aligning his body with hers.
Her hand picked up where the foot had left off, caressing and massaging him through the fabric of his pants. She sensed his growing need, releasing the restraints of his slacks, sliding her hand beneath the waistband of boxers, finding him hard and throbbing. "I love you," he moaned as her fingers enveloped him.
"Show me," she demanded, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth as she kissed him. She guided his hand under her dress, silently begging to be touched. He pushed the tiny fabric of her thong aside, dipping his finger into her silky wetness. She cried his name with all the passion he remembered and more, riding his finger as she stroked him with one hand and unbuttoned his shirt with the other.
"I want to see you, Lea," he said, sliding his finger out of her and quieting her cries with a kiss that promised so much more. "I want to do this right," he explained, sitting up and pulling her onto his lap, so that her legs were straddling his.
He slowly unzipped her dress, kissing the flesh he exposed as he drew the spaghetti straps down. She let the fabric slink down her body, revealing a perfection he had thought he might never see again. His heart seemed to stop as he touched her alabaster skin, so perfect, so creamy beneath his fingers. Reaching for the hem of the dress, he raised it over her head, capturing a taut nipple in his mouth.
"Make love to me, Tim," she cried, rocking against him. Sliding his shirt past his shoulders, she traced the outline of his ear with her tongue, eliciting a groan from deep within him. "Make love to me," she whispered.
He stood, spinning them around and placing her on the bed again. He quickly shed his slacks and boxers, and marveled at her beauty while she waited for him. He leaned over her, placing small kisses on her abdomen, guiding the thongs down her legs and onto the floor.
He nudged her legs further apart with his knee and came to rest between them. He slipped two fingers inside her again, preparing her body for his. His thumb brushed her clit and Leanna came undone. He grinned at her writhing beneath him, riding his fingers with near-desperation as he stroked her. "Slow down, baby," he encouraged.
She captured his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. "Next time," she demanded. Tim happily obliged, raising her buttocks as he reached down to join them.
The shrill ring of the hotel phone shattered the moment, just before Tim buried himself inside her.
"You've got to be kidding me!" she cried, wriggling out from under him and reaching for the phone. "WHAT?" she demanded of the caller.
Her attention was captured and she sat up, listening as Horatio detailed the evening's events. Tim was oblivious, suckling her neck and tracing circles over her breast.
"Okay," she said irritably, "we're on our way."
"I don't think so," Tim responded as Leanna placed the phone back in the cradle. He lifted her onto his lap, letting his hand drift between her legs again. "We aren't going anywhere."
"Tim, stop," she demanded, grabbing for his hand. "Horatio has a suspect in custody."
"I don't care," he said flatly, caressing a breast with his tongue. "I don't have to interrogate suspects."
"Yeah, but I do," she said dejectedly, rising from Tim's lap. She crossed to the dresser and opened the first drawer, taking out a black lace bra and a pair of panties. He stood behind her, lifting her hair from her shoulders to attack the spot again. "All I need is five minutes," he begged, his sex sliding against her bare backside.
She spun to face him. "You're the one who wanted to do this right and now you're begging for five minutes? If we'd gone my speed, we'd be basking in the afterglow," she teased, sliding the panties up her legs and fastening the bra. She kissed him passionately. "Get dressed," she then ordered, tossing him his shirt. "You'll just have to suffer for now."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Glad you could join us," Eric teased when Speed stalked into the break room. "I called your cell phone like 10 times, I, uh, guess you didn't hear it with your pants thrown on the floor."
"You know what?" Tim shot back, pouring a cup of very black coffee and avoiding Calleigh's hardened stare, "You can kiss my ass, Delko. I was asleep," he lied.
Eric collapsed into a fit of laughter. "Oh, okay, is that what we're calling it these days?"
"Eric," Speed warned, shooting a steely glare at his best friend, "Shut up."
"Come on, man, it's me, you can tell me how it was, knocking boots with your lady love," Eric thrust his hips out, causing Calleigh to jump from the couch and run out of the room.
"I told you to shut up," Tim exclaimed, heading out the door after Calleigh.
He found her in the locker room with her head rested on the door, breathing slowly. "Calleigh," he said quietly.
She righted herself and turned to face him. "What's going to happen when Leanna goes back to Washington, Tim?"
Tim straddled the bench and sat down. "She's not going back to Washington."
"Really?" Calleigh crossed her arms. "Have you discussed that?"
"Not yet."
She snickered. "Then what have you discussed, exactly?"
"We're going to get married," he answered honestly.
"She's already engaged, Tim," Calleigh argued. "How can she being marrying this guy in Washington and marrying you too?"
"It's over between her and Jonathan."
Calleigh's expression was smug. "In four years, Leanna doesn't come back to see you one time. She's here less than a week, you two decide you're going to get married, and she just drops the guy in Washington?"
"Something like that, yeah," he answered defensively.
"So, she's going to quit the FBI, leave all her personal belongings in DC, never go back there, never tell her fiancé she's leaving him for you?"
"We haven't made it that far, Calleigh," he said harshly.
"Well, if I were you, I'd get there quick. After all, she didn't back for you, Tim. She came back for this case. We've got the guy in custody. We won't exactly be needing her services in a few days time." Calleigh stormed out of the locker room, leaving Tim in a stunned silence.
Doubts began to flood his mind, and fear crept into his heart. Maybe Calleigh was right. Leanna had come home for the case, not for him. Tim ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
A million questions raced through his brain, but one was beginning to haunt him. If she'd fallen back in love with him so easily, would she do the same thing with Jonathan when she went back to Washington?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Nice ring," Horatio commented to his suspect.
Leanna stood at the corner of the room, observing the interrogation. Vincent Wagner sat stoically in his chair, arms crossed firmly at his chest. He was classically handsome, some might even call him beautiful. He was well-groomed and clean shaven, tall and lean. Vincent's eyes where the clearest blue Leanna had ever seen, but they were empty, completely devoid of emotion as he responded to Horatio in a monotone voice.
"I want a lawyer."
"Tell me about the ring, Vincent," Horatio coerced. "It's very unusual."
Vincent laughed in his face. "No."
Eric rapped lightly on the door and handed a stack of papers to Leanna. "This is the best I can do," he said genuinely, "but I'm still working on it."
"Thanks," she smiled, leafing through the papers. "Vincent?" she asked, "is your social security number 405-98-4218?"
"Yes," he answered quickly.
"That's odd, because that number turns up information on a Victoria Wagner. Is she your sister?" Leanna probed.
"I want a lawyer," he repeated each word slowly. "Are you people deaf or something?"
A robust man burst through the interrogation room door. "Max Klein, Mr. Wagner's attorney. I trust you haven't been interrogating my client without his counsel present." He took the seat next to Wagner and opened his briefcase.
"I was just asking Mr. Wagner about his ring, Counselor." Horatio stated simply.
"His ring?" Klein asked incredulously. "What's the matter Caine, lacking for small talk at this ungodly hour of the morning?"
Horatio smiled. "Not at all." He tossed a photograph in front of Klein. "Your client was wearing this ring when he murdered at least four of my eight victims."
Klein scoffed at the suggestion. "These aren't even the same men, Caine. Christ, you're really losing your touch, you know? The great Horatio Caine can't even see that this guy has blonde hair and this guy has dark hair?"
"The ring's the same in both photographs and it's identical to the one your client is wearing," Leanna countered.
"I'd think a woman with your incredible taste in jewelry," he said, spotting the wedding band she still wore, "would realize that even that gorgeous piece you're wearing now most likely isn't one of a kind."
"This is little more than a co-ink-e-dink, Caine," he drawled. "It's four in the morning, I'm going home and I'm taking my client with me."
Horatio stopped Klein as he stood. "Why don't you just hang out here until my team is finished processing Mr. Wagner's home?" He handed Klein the court order, adding, "I don't believe in coincidences."
"Besides that, there a tiny matter of Vincent using someone else's Social Security number." Leanna handed Klein the printout Eric had given her. "The Social Security card we found in Vincent's wallet led us to a Victoria Wagner."
Vincent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Leanna continued, "I asked Mr. Wagner about it, but he wanted a lawyer."
Klein glumly handed the sheet back to Leanna. "My client is falsely using the social security card. Victoria Wagner is Mr. Wagner's birth name."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tim photographed Vincent Wagner's desk table before picking up the open journal. "Another night on the prowl," he read aloud, "another woman to pay the price for HER sins."
"The her is emphasized," Calleigh read over his shoulder. "Maybe he means someone else, not the victim?"
"Maybe," He was reluctant to agree, still reeling from their conversation earlier. He bagged the journal and placed it in his field kit.
"What do you make of this?" Eric called, pulling a strap-on penis out of the closet.
"Is that what I think it is?" Tim asked, photographing it as Eric laid it on the bed.
"This is some kinky shit," Eric sighed.
"I've got lots of medical bills - all from a plastic surgeon in Coral Gables," Calleigh stated. "Vincent's had some work done recently. Wow," she exclaimed, examining one of the bills, "A lot of work. This total is almost one hundred thousand dollars."
"If I were a psychopath serial killer, where would I hide a gun?" Tim wondered aloud, lifting the mattress and looking underneath.
"Bedside table?" Calleigh answered, "That's where I keep mine."
Tim opened the nightstand drawer and peered inside. "Well that's not very creative, " Tim frowned. "It's a 9, Cal."
Calleigh took the gun from Speed, bagging it quickly. "I'm off to get a match."
"Later," Eric waved. "Well, lookee what we have here," he said, producing a small knife from a small wooden box he'd found in the back of Vincent's closet.
"I should be really pissed that our genius killer turns out to be such a screw-up. What kind of idiot leaves the murder weapons laying around?" Speed complained.
"Yeah, but at least you and Leanna can get back to knocking boots faster," Eric teased.
"Like you and Valera weren't going after it, all that bumping and grinding you were doing on the dance floor the other night?"
"Man, I never denied it," he shot back. "You're the one who said you were sleeping."
"I thought that's what we were calling it these days?" Tim deadpanned. "Seriously, though, what do you think of Leanna?"
Eric shrugged. "She's great man. Smart, gorgeous, great personality, and she's head over heels in love with you. What more could you want?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Calleigh hummed to herself while comparing the striations on her test fire of Wagner's weapon to the bullets they'd recovered from the husbands. Horatio had quietly entered the lab, and Calleigh just couldn't help it - she began to smile.
"Calleigh?"
"Hello, Handsome."
Horatio grinned. "What do you have for me?"
"Everything you ever wanted and more," she teased, relinquishing the microscope to him. "I have a match."
"Wagner's 9?"
She beamed. "One in the same."
"Good work," he congratulated her.
Calleigh beamed at his compliment. "Well, what can I say?"
"That I can take you to dinner tonight?" he asked cautiously.
Calleigh's smile faded into shock. "What?"
"Dinner. I'd like to take you to dinner, Calleigh." Horatio then offered her one of his melt your heart smiles.
A thousand thoughts raced through Calleigh's mind. Horatio Caine had just asked her out on a date. He'd kissed her, to be sure, but Calleigh had already chalked that up to the moment. "Uh, okay?" she stated, somewhat unsure of herself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speed caught up to Leanna and Horatio in the hallway. "Blood on the knife." He handed Horatio the report. "Vincent cleaned it, but he missed the sweet spot between the blood and the handle."
Horatio skimmed the report. "DNA from each of our victims, good job Speed."
Leanna pulled on Tim's shirt playfully. "I could kiss you right now."
Tim turned his cheek when she leaned in. "We're at work, Lea," he said coldly.
She eyed him suspiciously. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm fine, just a little tired. I'll, uh, catch up with you later."
"Yeah, okay," she answered. Tim headed off to the lab.
Horatio's eyes were wide. "What was that all about?"
Leanna was stunned. "I have no idea. One minute he's asking me to marry him, the next minute he's giving me the cold shoulder."
"Leanna? This might not be the time or the place, but..." Horatio placed his hands on his hips.
Leanna held up her hand to cut him off. "I'm going to request a transfer to the Miami field office, Horatio. I contacted them this morning. I'm going back to Washington for a few days, talk to Jonathan, pack up my stuff, pay my landlord a large fortune to get out of my lease early - then I'm coming home."
"Leanna?"
She placed a hand on his arm. "I love Tim, Horatio. I know now that's never changed. Love that's survived everything we've survived - and for four years - that's love."
Horatio placed a gentle kiss on her temple. "Well then, let me be the first to congratulate you on your engagement."