Title: Solace

Author: AllOverTheWorld

Shippers: Horatio/Calliegh

Summary: Calleigh takes solace in firearms, as strange as it seems to most; she finds comfort amongst Sig Sauers, Colts, Sniper Rifles, and Shot Guns, Machine Guns, exploding rounds and gun powder. Most, if not all, on the CSI team know where to find her after a particularly long or hard (most times both) case: her ballistics lab. What happens when that solace is shattered? When her one sanctuary is no longer what it was? Where will she go? Who can she turn to?

Authors Notes: Thank you to Sea-Patrol-NCIS-freak, LA Calleigh, NiteJasmine, Pinkyster, daxy, muddpuppy19 and Amythest Lilly for reviewing!

Life seemed to move around Calleigh. People walked by and either nodded their heads or looked away because no one seemed to know what to say or do with her. She couldn't process the crime scene, nor could she leave the safety of the CSI's for fear of Tristan's next attempt. All Calleigh could do is watch as Ryan, Eric, Natalia, Walter and others pulled up from the night shift went through the wreckage that used to be her house. A cool breeze was sweeping through Miami and she shivered as it went right through her clothing and kissed the pale skin beneath it. Slight tremors shook her body where she stood and it was all she could do to break down again.

Over the fast two, almost three days, she had been shot at twice (once by her own gun)by people that wanted nothing more than to see her in a pine box six feet under. Horatio's gentle voice shook her out of her thoughts and she turned to see Horatio walking over to her, removing his jacket as he did so "Come sit down." he said as he draped the jacket over her shoulders.

Calleigh looked around the crime scene, there really didn't seem to be any place to sit. Her eyes rested on her Hummer, the hulking silvery-grey machine that it was and cringed at the sight of its bullet riddled windshield and stuffing leaking from the seats where the bullets had eventually stopped. That car, she thought, was much like herself. It once had a strange combination of power and beauty that attracted others to it. Criminals cringed before the giant but now it was a broken, useless mess.

Horatio guided Calleigh to his own Hummer which had sustained very little damage and opened the passenger door for her to sit down "I'm placing you under police protection until Tristan is apprehended." He said

A low groan rose in Calleigh throat, great, she would spend the next few days trapped in some half star hotel in the worst parts of Miami not allowed to leave her room for fear of being killed by a cousin with a grudge the size of Texas. The worst part of that was not the hotel, she would have spent time in worse, but the being alone with naught but her own thoughts to accompany her and at this point her thoughts were quickly becoming dangerous. Horatio seemed to read her mind and he said quietly "You're coming home with me. You can stay at my place until we catch him, the others will take shifts being with you until then."

Some distant part of Calleigh was overjoyed that she would get to be with Horatio but for the moment she was pleased that he had said 'being with you' instead of 'protecting you' it made her feel slightly less useless "Do you have any idea how he found out your address?" Horatio asked, trying to keep Calleigh from becoming absorbed in her own mind.

"The Yellow Pages." She said dully "It's the most obvious answer and Tristan never was one for making things more complicated than they needed to be."

"Makes sense." Horatio said, Tristan could have shot Calleigh in the supermarket but he needed to make sure that it was her. From there he could have followed her home or, as Calleigh said, looked up her address. However Tristan's plan did have one flaw, his first attempt would have had to succeed or else things would become a lot more complicated for him. The most obvious way to draw him back out again would be to provide him with an easy target.

He shook his head because he wouldn't place Calleigh in danger like that, not with the chance that she could die at the hands of that monster "Calleigh." He started "Could you tell me what kind of gun he was using?"

Even though Calleigh felt numb of every emotion that part of her brain that was and always would be the ballistics expert began to whir. It was defiantly an automatic weapon but unlike the gun she had fired it was probably a rifle or some sort. Her first thought was a Beretta but the sound had been to hollow for that. Next she jumped to a Browning but that did seem right, then she decided that it was probably a SIG SG 510, an older type of gun but easier to ship into the United State illegally "SIG SG 510." She said "He probably bought it off the street somewhere, they're not that hard to find if you know where to look."

"Where would you go?" Horatio asked

This was a good question because Calleigh was first a female and most arms dealers wouldn't sell to girl but Tristan was a male and had a slightly intimidating build. However he had a more pronounced accent than Calleigh so that would eliminate a few dealers from interacting with him. There was one man who would sell any gun, no matter how rare or how dangerous to the first person to name a good price "Joey Montenegro." She said "Works out of a bar by the Keys called Lou's. He's the only person that would sell something like that to a newbie without knowing more about him. That gun probably has half a dozen bodies on it but no way to connect it to Joey or anyone else."

"Thank you" Horatio said "I'll send Eric and Ryan there to pick him up now." He said

Calleigh nodded, the simple mindlessness of which she worked with ballistics was a comfort and she kept that in mind if she ever needed to stop thinking and just get through the darkness. A sudden tiredness swept over Calleigh and she let out a big yawn. At this point Horatio said "Get some rest sweetheart, I'll be here." She nodded but before she could finish the nod she felt herself slipping into the abyss.

Tristan Burns flew down the express way pushing ninety in a forty five mile zone but he didn't care if he got pulled over, he would just shoot that cops anyway. His eyes glanced over at the gun laying in the passenger seat, it was a great work of art to be quite honest. However the aim had been off and he wasn't quite sure if Calleigh Duquesne was dead. Already his mind was beginning to form another plan except first he had to dump this gun.

He took a sharp left and found himself on small service road that led away from the highway. It wound around for about ten minutes and he made a series of left and right turns before he realized that he was now in the middle of the Everglades. He stopped his car and stepped out and into the cool night air letting the light breeze blow his jacket off his body slightly. Looking around he saw the headlights of another car coming his way and he suddenly knew what he had to do.

He waited for the car to roll to a stop and the driver to roll down his window before he pulled out his hand gun. He had decided that lugging an automatic rifle around might attract some attention so he had purchased a Glock from the dude in the bar "Get out." He growled "Now."

The driver just looked at him, as if confused what having a gun in her face meant "Don't you get it?" He asked "Get out or I'll blow your head off and then take you out of the car."

The driver just smirked, sitting behind the wheel over her blue Saab she slowly reached for the door but at the last second he had darted down and she pulled out a gun of her own. In one swift movement she slammed her door open and knocked Tristan off his feet, his gun clattering beneath his car "You're a bit new to this aren't you?" she growled, her voice ever so hinted with an Irish accent and she picked up his gun and the automatic rifle in the passenger seat. Again she spoke and as she did so she fired three shots, two taking out his tires and a third came oh so close to hitting his head but just grazed his ear "Next time you might not be so lucky." She said as she got back in her car, her voice calm as ever

As she turned her car around she rolled down the passenger side window and said "And FYI your safety was still on." And with that she sped off and out of sight.

Cursing himself as he stood up Tristan looked at his car, which now had two flat tires and wouldn't be going anywhere "Out of all the people." He muttered as he tried to figure out what the hell to do now that he was stranded, car less and weapon less in the Everglades.

Hey! This chapter was sort of a filler but I hope you liked it. Anyway the first person to tell me who that female who Tristan tried to car jack was there will be some sort of prize. Here at the clues I gave plus one:

1) Drives a blue Saab

2) Irish

3) Knows her way around guns and explosives

And the one clue I'm giving you that wasn't in the story:

4) The show she is on also takes place in Miami.

I'm not sure if anyone here knows it but if you do then yay! As for Tristan I'm more than satisfied to let him get eaten by the alligators but that would put a rather abrupt end to this story so I am asking my readers do you want him to:

A) Get picked up by a random person driving I the everglades and taken back into Miami

B) Get caught by the cops after the mysterious driver alerts them to his presence

Or

C) Other.

Thanks,

AllOverTheWorld