Chapter Twenty-seven: Siberia

Concealed within the walls of the Trace Lab with his headphones on it was like he was in another time and space, floating free of the world around him. Let the protesters keep them confined in the lab for as long as they desired. There was food and places to sleep so he didn't have to worry about leaving. They had showers and there was even a change of clothing in his locker. By all rights he had no reason to go home. Staying at the lab all night gave him a chance to catch up on much needed work, maybe get some cases solved. He felt good about the idea of getting a shit load of work done. The only thing that nagging voice in the back of his mind could come up with was the fact that Mite was home alone, waiting for him to get back. Though that made him feel bad he knew it would only be a matter of time before the protesters were cleared out and they were allowed to go home. He just wanted to make the most of his time until then.

Popping another sample in the machine he hit the start button and whirled around on his stool to start work on the next sample. Since the little meeting the hallway he had yet to see anybody else. Either they were doing the same thing he was, catching up on work, or they were slacking off and just enjoying the extra hours, using them to catch up on everything but work. A part of him wanted to wander through the labyrinth of a lab to see what the others were doing with their time but that little part kept getting squished by the much larger half that kept telling him he needed to work. He wasn't about to admit it to anyone but he felt this increasing need to prove that he was still capable of doing his job. After all the shit that had been going down he didn't want to come across as the weak link. He could do this job. He could…

He peered through the microscope at the small red fiber from another case trying to get an idea of what material had been used to make it, or at least a general knowledge of the damned thing. He knew that something so small could end up being so important. He wanted to take his time studying it, testing it, getting as much information as he possibly could from it. But for some reason his mind started to wander. One minute he was thinking about the fiber and the next he was focusing on the horde of people keeping him captive within the lab. If the militia was busy pounding the pavement of the lab parking lot then what had they done with Hagen, if they did indeed have him? They hated police but would they really go so far as to kill one of the state's detectives? Did they really want to bring that sort of attention to themselves? Not only would they have to deal with the mayor and possibly even the governor, but there was the matter of Horatio and Calleigh. The two of them would tear into the militia group and leave nothing by the time they were done with them. He felt a tinge of guilt in his gut. He'd forgotten about Calleigh. She had a relationship with Hagen once. And he knew that Hagen really cared for her. He had been so consumed with his own problems that he hadn't taken any time to check up on her, see how she was handling this whole thing.

What kind of friend had he become?

Quickly, but efficiently, he finished doing the required tests on the piece of fiber, placing a tiny sample into one of the other machines. Turning off his music, placing his headphones on the work table, he left the trace lab behind. The first thing he decided to do was check and see how the protest was going. The clock in the reception area told him that it was nearing ten at night. Hopefully they would get a chance to go home soon. If anything, he wanted to make sure that Alexx got out so that she could see her children. Peering out the window he saw that things were still in full swing outside. He wondered if they were going to attempt to wait them out or if other counties would be called to help remove the protesters. It was a sticky situation, what with the mob outside not being fans of the cops.

Arms crossed over his chest he headed back into the depths of the lab, which was oddly quiet. At one point the thought that the others got out without him crossed his mind. But then he passed by the DNA lab to find the receptionist deep in conversation with Valera, the two of them oblivious to the situation around them. When he passed the AV room he could tell from the sounds within that Cooper and Delko and Ryan were up to no good, using the computer access to entertain themselves. So much for his thinking that the others would be using this time to get their work done. There was little doubt in his mind that if he sought out Horatio he would find the older man sitting behind his desk on the phone with somebody trying to get rid of the protesters.

He finally came across Calleigh when he stumbled into the breakroom for a bottle of water. She was flipping through one of the forensic journals, the expression on her face unreadable. He took one of the bottles from the fridge and settled in the chair across from her, studying the way her hair fell around her face, framing her southern beauty in gold. If he was into dating women he would waste no time in trying to make her his girlfriend. She was sweet with a touch of bulldog tenacity. She cared deeply about her friends but wasn't one to stand aside quietly when they did something wrong.

He wished he could be more like her sometimes.

"Calleigh…" he said, breaking the silence in the room.

She looked up at him, a smile on her lips, a slight shimmer in her eyes that he couldn't tell if it belonged to her happiness or unshed tears. "Well, hey Speed. How have you been enjoying our time in prison?"

"More like being in Siberia," he remarked, sipping his water. "I have used the time to catch up on some work, waiting for a few tests to finish." He swallowed down the slight nervousness that was starting to sink in. Why was he afraid to talk to her about something personal? Simple, because he was terrified of what it might bring up. "Look, I just wanted…I haven't been…" he fought to find the right words.

"What is it, Speed?"

"I…I just wanted to check on you, see if you were handling things okay," he finally managed to get out. "What with Hagen…"

The shimmer in her eyes disappeared and he felt like kicking himself. "It's hard," she admitted. "I keep expecting him to burst into the room with one of his ideas or to tell me that I can't do my job because it's too dangerous. To be honest, I never realized that I would miss him so much."

He reached across the table, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You know as well as I do that Horatio won't let anything happen to him. Even if it's just to keep his brother's partner alive. Hagen is a part of this team and without him…"

She actually smiled. "Nobody has asked me how I'm fairing, Speed. You're the first. Thank you."

"What are friends for?" He sipped the water again, the refreshing liquid wetting his whistle.

"Hey," she said all of a sudden, the light having returned to her eyes, flipping the magazine closed. "Why don't we go down to the shooting range and get in some practice? Just the two of us? It'll help the time go by faster and before you know it, those tests will be done."

"Fine by me," he agreed. In reality the last thing he wanted to do was be around guns. He knew that at some point he was going to have to get over the initial fear of gunfire but every time a gun went off he kept expecting to feel a bullet tear through his body. He often thought of heading down to the shooting range in the basement to practice alone but never got around to it, always making up bogus excuses to skip out. Maybe now was his chance. Calleigh would understand his reluctance. If he showed her the fear and showing fear was a weakness. He was not going to be weak. Still, against his better judgment he screwed the top on his bottle and followed her to the basement. He wanted to be a good friend. She really needed one at the moment. Even more than he did.