Well, for starters, I don't own CSI: Miami, or any of its lovely characters. Not even Horatio or Ryan, who I really wish I did own. XD I have a mortal fear of lawyers, so do not come forth with lawsuits against me. Flames, for whatever reason you have to give them, will be used to fuel a campfire for sing-alongs and marshmallow fun.

She had known she wasn't going to get out of this alive. He meant business. Too bad common sense evidently hadn't shown him any mercy throughout the past six months. He hadn't had any before they'd broken up, but Anita had never thought he would be driven to kill over a break-up.

Admittedly, she had given his life quite a shake. He had always been the perfect son, a little angel to friends of the family. Deep down, he'd been as insecure as insecure could get, and Anita, his girlfriend of a year at least, could only take so much. Enough had been enough, especially after the ass firmly denied having anything to do with the baby she was carrying.

It was his. It was definitely his, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. So when she came to him asking for a DNA test, not only did he know that complying would be his ruination, he knew that refusing in front of his parents would rouse suspicion.

Needless to say, Anita and her baby were the cause of some unwanted changes and a burst bubble in her ex's life recently. But this… This was completely over the edge.

But it was too late to stop him now. When he had stormed in, screaming obscenities and accusations at her, Anita had put her child first, hiding the infant in a panic to protect the little girl over herself. Trying to talk him out of it was useless. The man was mentally unstable, even if Anita was the only one who really seemed to ever have noticed it, and he couldn't be persuaded to turn back now. As far as he was concerned, she was the one who had ruined everything for him, and now, he would ruin everything for her in one simple step – a simple step involving a gun.

As she lay there on the kitchen floor, bleeding profusely from multiple gunshot wounds on her body, Anita could only pray that he wouldn't hurt the baby. The young mother could hear the crying, faintly, as the life drained from her as fast as the blood.

­­This was a typical murder scene, at first. Calleigh had claimed the kitchen, going over it from top to bottom for clues, snapping pictures like there was no tomorrow. Evidence of a baby was nowhere to be seen – or maybe she was focusing too hard on the task at hand. Gather evidence, analyze the crime scene, solve a murder. Nothing out of the ordinary for a CSI at Miami Dade. The hi-tech camera was aimed at a small scratch in the wooden paneling on the sides of a counter, when her work was interrupted.

"Hey, uh, Calleigh?" The voice was Wolfe's, the woman knew, and she also knew that he wouldn't be offended if she continued to do her job while conversing with him.

"Hm?" It wasn't a question, per say, but it gave the message that she was listening, at least. Ryan was silent for a few seconds. As it was for Calleigh, murder scenes were nothing new for Ryan, but finding a baby stashed under a pile of blankets and pillows… well, that was.

"There's something you ought to see."

"Can it wait?"

The distinct sound of a baby whimpering, warning everyone within earshot that actual crying couldn't be too far behind, gave Calleigh her answer before her coworker got a chance to. Calleigh had never really thought of herself as a motherly person, let alone good with kids, but within seconds she had the camera set down out of harm's way, and had stood up (to get a better shot, she had been kneeling). It was certainly odd to see Wolfe stand there, grasping the handle of one of those baby carriers (she was so baby-ignorant that she didn't even know just what exactly those were called). The fact that nobody had been aware of a child in the area up til now was also fairly strange. But when Calleigh laid eyes on the tiny, squirming ball of human among the cushion and blanket that made up her seat, there was no possible way for the CSI to ignore the motherly instinct deep inside (maybe it came with being a woman) that began to stir.

"Would you mind taking this over?" she asked. Her emerald green eyes remained on the child, who was still whimpering quietly but was fairly content to gnaw on a soft, chewy ring. Ryan didn't wait for Calleigh to explain why. Who would be the better person to watch over the tyke: Ryan, a young male, or Calleigh, a sensible woman? The answer was obvious, and he was only too happy to oblige and surrender the infant.

"Sure thing," he said, though it had no point. Calleigh hardly heard him, too focused on the child to pay attention.

This case was now a notch above the ordinary murder.