(A/N): So… here it is.

This took a lot longer than I expected. I'm sorry for the wait. I tried to organize the plot a bit, balance my activities and my other story. And I haven't seen an episode of CSI Miami in a while, so the characteristics and terms might be a bit iffy. I tried to spruce up my memory by watching a little, but I'm still a bit (ok, a lot) shaky. Hope it's ok. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI Miami… if only.

Chapter Six

Jesse's POV…

Make me look sick? I thought, eyeing Lane as he cracked his knuckles, an uneasy smile on his face. He turned to me, his hands balled into a fist. Woah woah woah. I stiffened, eyes widening slightly as he pulled back his fist. Oh you've got to be-

My head snapped back as his knuckles struck my cheek. Hardly given the time to recover, he started again, right on my temple. I blinked, the blackness daring to overcome me. Lane drew back his hand again. I grunted as his fist landed on my other cheek, his punch nearly knocking out a tooth. My jaws tightened as my hands clawed at the rope, my fingers blistering from the rough string, but my grip loosened as Lane's fist continued to strike, and as blackness consumed me.

A while later…

I was startled awake from the cold.

I gasped, my eyes snapping open. I shivered. Why is it so cold? Oh, right, I'm in a freaking fish storage building with a psychopathic killer and his accomplice who is also a psychopathic killer but twice as big and twice as bad. This is my punishment for being late to work, isn't it?

How'd I get into this mess anyway? I thought. Oh right, the stupid alarm clock.

Lane and Sam stood over me, a bucket of water between them. My clothes were drenched, ice laying on my lap. I shivered, my teeth chattering. I shuddered in a breath as more water was poured on me. I coughed out water from my lungs, trying to breath properly. The two continued to pour until all the water was gone. I gasped, the cold air chilling me.

Lane and Sam went on to the next bucket without a word, the cold ice and water gushing down me. After what seemed liked hours, they were done. They moved on without hesitation to remove my restraints and hauled me up. I stumbled along across the warehouse with Lane holding a gun behind me, and Sam retying my hands.

I staggered beside the two. They led me outside the warehouse, and the warm Miami air soaked into my cold skin, sending a shiver through me. I basked in the sun for mere seconds before we were at a truck. They hauled me into the back container, and I noticed the frosting on the sides, and the cool air rushing out. I instinctively planted my feet on the ground, but Lane pushed me inside. My hands tried to brace the landing, but they were bound behind my back. I landed on my shoulder, grunting as I skidded on the rough surface. I scrambled to my knees as Sam closed the container door, enclosing me in the freezer.

Shakingly getting up, I went to the door. Scanning the doors, I turned my back towards it and grabbed the handle by my tied hands by standing on my toes. But it didn't turn.

"You've got to be kidding me," I grumbled to myself as I looked over the freezer. It was a container for moving frozen goods, with boxes still left in the corners. The walls were covered with a thin layer of frost, and I could see my breath when I exhaled.

Sucking in the chilled air, I felt the piercing cold enter my lungs. Coughing, I kicked the door, trying to test its strength.

Yep, hard as stone.

Suddenly, I reached into my back pocket of my pants, but felt nothing. Sighing, I relaxed my hands in defeat. "Now you found the time to search me."

I wandered aimlessly around, searching for something to help me. There were no other exits out, and the only other thing that was in the container with me were boxes of unloaded, smelly fish. I immediately closed it, my nose wrinkling at the putrid smell.

I paced the freezer, trying to ignoring the cold clothes sticking to my skin, and the water still dripping from it. I felt the uncontrollable shivers racking through my body, and my still aching head from Lane's little session on me.

Curse him and his giant fists.

Calleigh's hummer…

Calleigh steadily drove through the traffic. They searched for the nearest detour, but seemed to go nowhere. Each minute stuck on the road seemed to take years, and Ryan's obnoxious fingers, which had been drumming on the car window for the past few minutes, didn't help.

Calleigh and Natalia continued to talk about the case, while Wolfe went over the details from a file. He didn't seem to notice a glare coming from the front seat.

"Ryan... Ryan… Ryan!" He jolted up slightly, the file almost flying from his hands.

"What-hi, hi I'm here," he stuttered, trying to compose himself. The two in the front giggled, Ryan's glares only adding to their laughter.

"We've arrived at a detour," Calleigh finally said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"And can the drumming stop?" Natalia added on, quirking up an eyebrow at him as she twisted around her seat. Ryan replied with a grin.

Calleigh dodged through the remaining cars and made it to the exit. She let out a breath of relief. "Geesh, I thought we'd never get out of that place." They drove through the less crowded streets, getting closer and closer to the warehouse.

Finally, the building was in view. They pulled up to the empty lot, and say Jesse's car in the far corner, hidden by bushes. Calleigh pulled up next to it, and they emptied out of the hummer, approaching Jesse's.

"Well, no one's home," Calleigh announced, her face pressed to the window.

Ryan looked around the parking lot. "H said told him to wait here."

They approached the warehouse cautiously. Natalia opened the door, the groaning hinges echoing through the building. They stepped in, guns in hand, and was welcomed with a blast of cold air, and the view of a single chair near the center, with a puddle around it.

(A/N): What do you think? Total trash, and I should scrap it? Or I should give it another shot? Criticism is welcome. Hope the characters weren't too OOC.