Disclaimer - I don't own any of the CSI characters, including Tim Speedle, sigh, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she? I do, however, own Leanna and Nicholas. They are part of my master plan to create a life for Timmy outside the office.

Pairings - Tim and his lovely wife Leanna, Horatio & Calleigh, Eric & Valera

Rating – PG for now

Summary – Two prominent physicians are murdered in their Coconut Grove home. All clues point back to the couple's daughter, who is hiding more than one devastating secret.

This story has been such a great way for me to relieve the stress of my impending wedding – if my mother calls me one more time about bridesmaids' shoes – I swear to God I will scream. I also have a medical procedure due tomorrow, so I'll be out of commission for a couple of days, and thought I'd give you guys two chapters to keep you occupied. (

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Tim sat in the trace lab, examining the evidence they'd found in nanny Julie Binns' apartment that afternoon. He knew exactly what he was looking for – fingerprints. He and Horatio had a hunch, and they were following it.

"Speed," Horatio stepped into the lab and took up his post beside Tim. "What do we have?"

"Well, there wasn't anything in the apartment that just screamed, 'Hey, I'm really Lauren Johansson,' so, we took everything that she might have touched," he explained, "There's got to be DNA or fingerprints somewhere. Problem is, she didn't leave the normal stuff – toothbrush, hairbrush and her apartment was spotless..."

"And you're having a hard time finding fingerprints," Horatio finished for him. Tim nodded.

"Well, keep at it," Horatio encouraged, "We've already placed Lauren Johansson with the gun and in Mikayla's nursery. Now we just need to link her with the nanny."

"Where do you think she is, H?" Tim inquired.

"Honestly? I think she's in Cabo – looking for her sister."

"Yeah," Tim sighed, "Me too."

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"Michelle," Tim questioned, "we found Lauren's fingerprints in Julie Binns' apartment. How do you explain that they got there?"

Michelle swallowed hard and thought for a moment before answering. Tim could see the wheels turning in her brain as she searched for something to say. "I can't," she finally said weakly, beginning to really cry for the first time since they'd taken her into custody.

Horatio sat down beside Michelle. "You weren't supposed to come back, were you Michelle?"

She stared up at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"Lauren killed your parents, didn't she Michelle?" Horatio asked gently.

"Lauren is DEAD," the teenager exclaimed. "What is wrong with you people?"

"That is where you are wrong, Michelle," Horatio explained. He slid a sheet of paper over to her. "We exhumed Lauren's coffin. It was empty."

Michelle closed her eyes and sank into her chair. Tears rolled down her face and she wiped them away with her fingertips. "Why was the coffin empty, Michelle?" Horatio pressed on.

"I don't know," she cried.

"I think you do, Michelle," Horatio nodded. "Here's what I think happened. I think you faked Lauren's death. Then Lauren returned a few months later, as Mikayla's nanny. Am I right so far?"

Michelle began to sob, and rested her head on the table. Horatio took that as a yes, and continued, "You were supposed to go on vacation, leaving Lauren with Mikayla, and she was supposed to kill your parents, then join you in Cabo."

"How did you get away with faking Lauren's death, Michelle?" Tim took over, hovering behind Michelle. "Because, if it was my kid, I'd demand to see the body."

Michelle glanced over at her lawyer, who nodded weakly and placed a hand on Michelle's arm. "I told my parents it was too awful to see. I told them I was trying to protect them from seeing Lauren like that. I begged them to have a closed coffin," she explained.

"And they believed you," Tim shook his head and sighed.

"They had no reason not to," she said quietly, "I was in the car behind her and saw the whole thing."

"Where is Lauren now, Michelle?" Horatio asked gently. "Don't take the fall for this by yourself."

"No," she said emphatically, "I won't give my sister up."

"That's honorable of you, Michelle," Horatio said with just a hint of sarcasm. "We've got your fingerprints on the gun, and you know we can convict you with that, so you're going to protect her."

"It's the least I can do for her," Michelle said softly.

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Tim pressed the button on his truck visor to raise the garage door and pulled the truck inside. He could see Leanna and Nicholas through the window on the kitchen door. She was cooking dinner, dancing around the kitchen with Nicholas. Their mother-son tune, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough", blared through the garage from the CD player inside the house. He watched Nicholas laugh with delight as Leanna twirled him around, then held his head to dip him. Nick squealed as she brought him back up, his brown eyes wide and twinkling. It was the most beautiful thing Tim had ever seen.

Leanna spun around and realized Tim was in the garage watching them. She threw open the kitchen door; singing at the top of her lungs while Nicholas cackled his approval. Tim started laughing as she danced through the garage, opening his truck door and pulling him out. "You've finally lost your mind," Tim teased when she grasped him around the waist and began swaying along to the music.

"You ought to try it sometime," she shot back, letting go of Tim to dip Nicholas again as the song ended, "It's a lot of fun."

Nicholas bounced in her arms, ready for a little more dancing. "I'll remember that," Tim said sarcastically, reaching out to take Nicholas from Leanna. Nick went willingly into his father's open arms and Tim pressed his face to Nick's ebony curls and breathed in the scent of his son – a powerful combination of baby powder and little boy.

Leanna smiled sympathetically at her husband. "Rough day?" she asked tenderly.

"The worst," he answered honestly, then kissed her, "but coming home to you two makes it better."

She wrapped her arm around his waist and led him inside. "Sit," she commanded, pointing to a barstool. She opened the refrigerator and took out one of his favorite beers, popping the top and handing it to him.

"Something smells good," he commented, taking a swig of the beer. "What are you making?"

"Broiled salmon and penne pasta with a light white sauce," she said slyly, lifting the lid on the saucepot and allowing him to smell.

Tim groaned. "What have you done?" he demanded.

She frowned and replaced the lid. "What do you mean, what have I done?"

He eyed her suspiciously, one eyebrow rising to illustrate his point. "The last time you made broiled salmon and penne pasta, you'd wrecked the car and you were trying to butter me up, so I wouldn't be mad," he reminded her. "So, what did you do this time?"

"Timothy James Speedle," she said with her hands firmly planted on her hips, "did it ever occur to you that maybe I was craving broiled salmon and penne pasta and thought I'd make a nice dinner for my husband?"

Tim choked on his beer at the word "craving." "Holy shit, Lea are you pregnant?"

Leanna shifted her weight to her other foot and stirred the pot, ignoring her husband's question. "We're supposed to be watching our mouths, Tim, he's going to start talking soon and I don't want the first word out of his mouth to be 'shit'."

"Leanna Grace Speedle," he tried her favorite tactic, "are you pregnant?"

Leanna sighed and leaned against the counter. "Lea?" he asked again, his tone more forceful.

"The magic 8-ball says 'maybe'", she confessed. "I'm late."

"How late?" he demanded.

"Almost two weeks," she muttered, almost inaudibly.

"And you're just NOW telling me about this?" he howled.

"Well!" she shrieked in defense, "look at how you're reacting, Tim! I wanted to be more sure than less sure when I told you."

The blood drained out of Tim's face. "I think I'm going to pass out." He handed Nicholas to Leanna and rested his forehead against the cool stone of the countertop. "Oh God," he moaned. Leanna patted his back affectionately. Nicholas joined in, leaning over Leanna's arm to beat on his father's back. "Two kids?" Tim whined. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just keeping my head above water with one."

Leanna sighed again and sat down on the barstool beside him. "I know this is unexpected..."

"That's the understatement of the century," he cut her off.

"Hey, is it my fault I'm fertile?" she shot back; offering him a smile he just couldn't stay mad at.

"No, apparently it's mine," he answered, lifting his head from the counter.

"Honey, it's going to be fine," she assured him. "Whatever the doctor's answer is tomorrow, it's going to be fine."

"We'll see about that, I'm going with you," he said.

TBC...

Yeah, that was cruel, I know it (