The moment they were through airport security and outdoors waiting for their transport Tim tugged out a cigarette and lit it, ignoring the look of disapproval Ridley gave him. He had been uneasy and irritable the whole time they had been travelling and Ridley and Horatio were both hopeful that Vegas might brighten his mood. In fact he had been unnerved and moody since yesterday when Calleigh and Eric had, after hours of searching, turned up a body on the seventh floor of the Chimera House, a floor appropriately named 'The Rabbit Hole'. The body had been of a Mike White, a twenty-two-year-old English Literature student who was boyfriend to the girl found on the second floor, one Molly Winters who had been savagely hacked into three pieces, evidently another unwanted body like poor Eliza Hayir. Mike on the other hand had been shot through the chest and left with a silver pocket watch in one hand, frozen at 3am, and a very familiar white rabbit's mask covering his face but showing off his gouged out eyes. The bloody quotation was on a wooden wall behind him, '`I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly'.

Tim had seen the photographs of the scene when he had headed back to the Miami-Dade headquarters with Horatio. Calleigh had tried and failed to prevent the traces expert from seeing them when he had insisted. He had grumbled a curse and tried to pretend it didn't bother him but everyone could see how it did. As far as Tim was concerned he was being personally taunted and it made him angry and more than a little uneasy that he was powerless to do anything about it.

"It's roasting," Ridley murmured as she fanned herself weakly with one hand. The heat was dry and dusty and the sun a blinding white, despite the numerous signs of civilisation that surrounded them it was obvious they were in a desert, one with the perfect conditions for driving people indoors to seek relief and finding sin and distraction as well. It was perfectly inspired to build casinos in a desert Ridley decided, there was plenty of land, no competition and the conditions meant everyone that could afford to spent their time on casino property whether it was gambling in the air conditioned rooms or lounging by the pool, always been lured by alcohol, room comps, the jingle of coin and much more. It was a land of mystery, promise, deceit and sin and the young detective found herself strangely fascinated by the allure.

"Welcome to Las Vegas Lieutenant Caine."

Horatio turned at the voice, a grin appearing on his face and his cerulean eyes sparkling with joy beneath his shades as he took in the beautiful, confident woman who stood before them with hands on her hips, her long, thin lips turned up and parted slightly to reveal a glimpse of smiling white teeth and a glimmer of charm in her deep blue eyes. She was clad in a cream vest top, an open, pale mustard jacket with matching trousers, and a pair of dark sunglasses resting on her the top of her head amongst her golden-red tresses. Catherine Willows, CSI assistant night shift supervisor, was as striking as Horatio remembered her, a natural beauty oozing confidence and charisma; she could enrapture someone without even trying and was a master of diplomacy, knowing how to balance the politics of the job without getting walked over. Catherine wasn't a woman in a man's world, Catherine was a woman in her own world and she was very much running it.

"It's good to see you again Catherine," Horatio retorted politely.

"It's good to get a chance to return the favour of playing host," Catherine retorted as her dark blue-grey eyes flickered over to Tim. "Welcome Detective Speedle, good to see you again."

Tim nodded with disinterest before stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it into the bin.

"Detective Moon I presume?" Catherine greeted Ridley with a smile.

Ridley nodded. "Nice to meet you," she said cheerfully.

"Likewise, well follow me; you all look like you might enjoy an air conditioned car ride." She turned and started walking slowly, giving Horatio a chance to match pace with her. "It really has been too long," she said to him in that coy, teasing voice he had thought about for many weeks after their first meeting.

"Indeed," Horatio agreed, "but I suppose if we met more frequently it would mean we were all getting sloppy with our suspects and letting them cross jurisdictions too much."

Catherine shook her head as she paused at a sleek, black Toyota with a familiar face in the driver's seat. "Well it doesn't all have to be business," she murmured softly with a suggestive gleam in her eyes, "as I recall you took me to a delightful night club, I have plans to return the favour, honey."

Ridley's eyes went wide at the nickname and she knew she had missed something when Horatio had actually smiled and retorted with his own nickname.

"I look forward to it, dear," Horatio retorted amicably as he headed round to the boot to put his luggage in. The three visitors squeezed into the back, Horatio behind Catherine as she could at least offer the six feet tall CSI some decent legroom whilst Ridley settled in the centre and Tim sat on the other side staring out the window with a distracted gaze.

"Hey, welcome to Vegas," the driver greeted as he turned round to face them with a small smile. He was a handsome, milky brown skinned male with a short, thick, dark brown afro, large, plump lips and the most beautiful, unusual eyes Ridley had ever seen. His eyes were small and ovular with large, round irises that were a pale, frost blue with a strange but mesmerising ring of gold around the pupils, they immediately pulled the New Yorker in, almost hypnotising her with their intensity.

"Good to see you again Warrick," Horatio answered brightly.

"You too," the driver said before his gaze flickered over to Tim. "Wait a minute, is that you Detective Speedle?" he quipped in surprise. "Damn you look different."

"Well it's been a while," Tim murmured in a tired voice as he finally looked at the native CSI.

"Right," Warrick murmured before his stare quickly fell on Ridley. "Detective Moon, right?"

Ridley nodded though with less enthusiasm than she had greeted Catherine with as she was starting to wonder if the Vegas CSIs knew her name because of Horatio or because of the press.

"I'm Warrick Brown," he introduced, "one of your hosts for the new few days." He added jokingly, "we promise no swamp diving and definitely no gators."

Horatio gave a small laugh at that. "I don't think you were actually bothered by any gators when you visited us."

"I swear I saw one," Warrick argued before he finally turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking bay.

"What case was this anyway?" Ridley queried curiously.

"It involved a limo driver with some very perverted interests," Catherine explained calmly, "he would break into his clients' homes, murder the husbands, kidnap the wives and live out his sick fantasies on them for a few days before killing them, but when he skipped town to Miami he didn't just take a wife but a little girl too."

"Sasha Rittle," Horatio remarked quickly.

"That's right," Catherine commented as she looked at him with mild surprise.

Ridley gave him an odd look, the shock all too clear on her face.

"Rittle," Tim repeated quietly, though with more emphasis on the 'ts' as he gripped Ridley's right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze knowing all too well what name she had heard instead.

"So do you guys want to check into a hotel first or get the meet and greet over with?" Warrick queried curiously as he glanced at them in the mirror.

Ridley was soaked in sweat and in dire need of a shower and reluctant to meet anyone with the reek of sweat and the desert on her but she figured it was a smell that would linger as long as she was in the city of sin and shrugged when Horatio glanced at her.

"I guess we'll get the meet and greet over with," Horatio answered calmly when Tim offered no opinion.

"Good choice," Catherine enthused, "Grissom is very curious about you guys."

It took just under an hour to reach the Las Vegas CSI headquarters and by then the Miami team were tired, hungry and beginning to regret their decision. When they stepped out of the car and lost the soothing air conditioner their discomfort only grew as the stale desert air hit them immediately.

"Do you ever get used to this heat?" Ridley grumbled as they headed up to the main doors. She tugged on her sunglasses as the sun reflecting off the windows temporarily blinded her. Miami's heat was humid, it at least hinted at damp even when it was heavy in the air but this heat was dry, it made her gasp a little harder for air and what oxygen she did breathe in was stale and tainted with dust.

"Nope," Warrick answered cheerfully as he pulled on his own shades, "that's why we normally do the night shifts, it's cooler at night."

"And more dangerous too," Catherine added dryly. "Plus there's the pay, better rate at night even if the crimes are that little bit stranger."

When they entered the building they found it busy with staff, many of whom were quick to gawk at the new arrivals. Word had spread quickly about the CSIs of Miami coming for a visit, including the infamous Detective Moon. Under the less dazzling lights of the building, Warrick tugged off his sunglasses and took the opportunity to glance at Speedle once more. When he had met the man four years ago Speedle had been young, eager and talkative with short, cleanly cut hair, a clean shaved face, a reasonably respectable dress sense and a body that suggested some gym activity. This man before him was thin, scruffy, moody and quiet; the plucky enthusiasm in his brown eyes was gone, replaced with a tired, sunken moodiness, and he looked like he was in need of a good meal.

"Riddle? Riddle is that you?"

Ridley froze at the voice whilst Horatio and Tim immediately looked hostile as they searched for the source of the voice. Catherine was surprised to see how quickly the men flanked the detective, Horatio standing partially in front of her whilst Tim got as close as he could. The detective herself had gone a bluish-white as if she had just seen a ghost, which only piqued Catherine's curiosity.

A man stepped out of the crowds, olive skinned and dark haired in a brown suit with a white shirt, a Colt at the right of his belt and a gleaming silver detective's badge on the left. He was somewhere in his late forties and looking at Ridley with surprise.

Ridley blinked hard as if expecting the man to dissipate before stammering, "Uncle Chris?"

All eyes fell on the New Yorker in disbelief and Warrick was quick to mutter to a balding officer who had been near the olive skinned detective, "of all the people to know."

"Who Chris, or the Sleepy Hollow girl?" the detective retorted sardonically.

"Riddle look at you! I didn't know you were coming here!"

"Stop calling her that," Tim growled out with a hateful stare at the man, "her name is Ridley."

"Uncle Chris," Ridley was quick to step forward and diffuse the situation, "I had no idea you were in Vegas."

Warrick could read all too easily on her face that she probably wouldn't have come to Vegas had she known.

Detective Chris Cavaliere frowned slightly as he took in his niece; she was wearing a light, long sleeved, ivory shirt, a pleated blue skirt, translucent gossamer tights and knee high brown boots. In New York it might have been considered fashion but in Vegas heat it was a sign that something was kept purposely unseen, that or it was a woman who simply hadn't known how to dress for the weather but Chris doubted that. "And I didn't know you were a CSI now," he retorted, his disapproval clear in his voice.

Catherine rolled her eyes at the detective's tone whilst Warrick looked visibly irritated. Chris was usually one of the easier to get along with cops and he didn't seem to hold a personal grudge when a cop got questioned by a CSI over a case or his work and yet the resentment was still there somewhere in him as it seemed to be with most of the city cops. There always had been and always would be a rivalry between the police and CSI, it was one CSI night supervisor Gil Grissom had stumbled over too many times and one Captain Brass, the balding detective standing beside Warrick, tried very hard to keep as peaceful as possible.

"I'm not," Ridley retorted with a slightly wounded look, feeling Tim's eyes burning into her she added hastily, "well not quite, I mean...I'm still a detective I just I...I had CSI training in New York."

"Why does she say that like it's a dirty thing?" Warrick queried with grim amusement as he folded his arms and gave the New Yorker an unimpressed look. He and Brass were up against the walls observing none too subtly like half the other lab rats and police lingering in the corridor, but they at least were keeping their voices soft.

"So...you're both?" Chris queried dubiously.

"Oh good," Captain Brass enthused sarcastically, "the worst of both worlds combined."

"Yes," Ridley answered, summoning some firmness to her voice. "Anyway, um..." She glanced back to Horatio helplessly. "We're here on business I'll...talk to you later."

Chris actually looked hurt and Catherine was surprised to see it, she hadn't actually thought the man was capable of having a sensitive side. "Right, later, Riddle," he added the name purposely, giving Tim an unfriendly look as he did.

"Let's go Detective Speedle," Horatio ordered sharply before Tim could snarl something at Chris, "I believe Catherine has introductions to make."

"Well we may as well start here," Catherine murmured before she caught Horatio's serious expression and got the obvious hint that he wanted out of the corridor. "Well that's Detective Cavaliere, who apparently one of you knows anyway," she introduced vaguely with a wave at the frowning Chris. "That's Captain Brass standing beside Warrick," she continued, "and you can meet the others upstairs." She gave them a cheerful smile. "Let's go."

As they walked all Warrick could think was, 'you could cut the tension with a knife. What's up with Detective Speedle? Guy seems on edge, I must ask Catherine if he's really the same guy or if I just remember him differently.'

They headed up to the second floor, pausing to look in at the small break room where a smirking young male with muscular, golden brown arms and a short crop of thick, dark hair sat teasing a fair skinned woman with a long, soft, brunette bob. The pair fell silent and looked over inquisitively when Catherine entered the room followed by Horatio, Ridley, Tim and finally Warrick. Horatio entered with a polite, thin smile whilst Ridley looked noticeably distracted and Tim had his hands in his jeans' pockets and was glancing about the room with disinterest.

"Nick Stokes, Sara Sidle, meet Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Detective Ridley Moon and Detective Timothy Speedle," Catherine introduced as she gestured from one to the other.

"The Miami Squad," Nick greeted cheerfully in a voice thick with a Texan accent as he stood up. He was tall, toned and tanned, all muscle, good looks, and an easygoing smile that was warm and charming enough to make Tim feel just a tad nauseated.

"What Nick means to say is welcome," Sara chirped up politely though her brown gaze seemed full of suspicion as she glanced from one to the other, distain flickering through her gaze when it fell on Tim. 'Surely if you're coming to visit another jurisdiction on business you make some effort,' she thought scornfully.

"Hey Nick, Ridley is the one you were talking about the other day," Warrick spoke up, "the Urban Legends detective."

"Right!" Nick's grin widened as he took a step towards Ridley. "That was an interesting case, so every one of those kills was really an urban legend?"

"Right," Ridley repeated quietly as she subconsciously stepped back and was relieved to feel Tim's warmth behind her.

"And you," Nick marvelled, "you survived being buried alive, that makes you kind of a legend round here."

Ridley felt her hands trembling against her control as she paled at the memory the Vegas CSI had sprung. "Um...right."

"Asshole," Tim grumbled before he could help himself. "See you outside H." He grabbed Ridley by her right hand before Horatio could retort and tugged her past Warrick and out to the corridor.

"Man what's his problem?" Nick grumbled with a cross look.

"Well you were just taking about that poor woman getting buried alive," Sara chided him, "not exactly smooth Nick."

"I just wanted her to know I admire her for surviving all that," Nick muttered even as he gave Horatio an apologetic look. "I'll go apologise," he offered, "I didn't mean to upset her."

"It's alright," Horatio said calmly, "Detective Moon will know that, if you want I'll pass on the apology."

"Yeah, I think Detective Speedle might not be too forgiving," Warrick murmured sardonically as he shook his head at the open doorway. "Man he is not how I remember him at all."

"Oh they're probably just jet lagged," Catherine murmured as she gave Horatio an apologetic smile. "Let's wrap up the meet and greet shall we? Then you three can go get some rest in a hotel."

"Good idea," Horatio retorted.

Warrick exited to the corridor first, in time to see Tim standing over Ridley and murmuring something into her right ear. She nodded weakly as she hugged her torso close before glancing over at Warrick with a tired gaze.

The small group, minus Warrick, started walking down the corridor.

"I hope you guys don't mind weird," Catherine murmured as she concluded their very brief tour at the end of the corridor.

Ridley gave a small, sardonic laugh at that. "Some of us specialise in it," she retorted calmly.

"Indeed some do," Catherine said dryly as she knocked the door lightly before opening it.

"Congratulations Ridley there's someone stranger than you," Tim taunted earning an unimpressed glower in response.

The room in question seemed to function as an office, a biology room and some sort of museum of oddities. It was a dark room cluttered with a variety of dead animals, bones, jars, test tubes, pictures and some objects that were simply unidentifiable. Spiders, butterflies, moths and scorpions sat in frames behind glass like pieces of art whilst baby pigs, undeveloped lizards and mutated rats sat in amber, red and clear coloured liquids in jars that magnified their deceased forms. There were also jars with holes in their lids and very real specimens of insects in them, and a tank of something unseen, shrouded behind leaves and darkness.

On the main desk was the expected assortment of pens, paper, photographs and a computer but also a human skull, a baby pig in a jar of clear liquid, an old, gold bell, a black scorpion in a black frame, a lamp, test tubes of numerous coloured liquids and finally, a small, metal, black sign that indicated the desk's owner as one 'Gil Grissom- Supervisor.'

The man in question sat behind the desk, head bowed as he studied at a selection of photographs curiously. He was swarthy with iron grey and brown, short, curled hair, the hint of a beard at his chin and round glasses resting on his nose.

"Grissom," Catherine addressed the man without a title and yet the affection and respect was clear in her voice, "say hi to our friends from Miami." She folded her arms and turned slightly so that she was partially facing both Gil Grissom and Horatio Caine.

Gil glanced up with a curious, serious dark blue stare and remarked calmly, "hi friends from Miami."

"Cute Grissom," Catherine scorned with a shake of her head. "Lieutenant Caine, this is our supervisor Gil Grissom, Gil, this is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, who I've mentioned several times to you."

Horatio's golden-red right eyebrow rose a notch at that as he pondered over what 'several' meant.

"And this is Detective Ridley Moon and Detective Timothy Speedle, also from Miami, Detective Speedle assisted with our limo driver case, you remember."

"No and yes," Grissom retorted as his eyes darted from one to the other, "no, Detective Moon is not from Miami, she is from New York as I recall and yes, I remember you mentioning Detective Speedle."

"I live in Miami now," Ridley was quick to retort as she studied the man with interest. 'A similar position to Horatio and Mac yet they're all so different,' she thought to herself. 'He's not as warm as Horatio. I bet the look he's giving me is the same look he gives one of his bugs.'

"Yes but you are from New York," Gil retorted softly as he stood up from his desk at last and stepped round it, "Sleepy Hollow if Nick's ramblings are anything to go by."

"Nick has a slight fascination with you," Catherine confessed, "the whole Sleepy Hollow thing and urban legends case, our newest member Greg Sanders has been following your cases as well, he's almost willing to believe you cracked the legend of the headless horseman and that started your career as a detective."

Ridley made herself smile even as she hugged her hands into her sides to suppress the trembles. "That would make a good comic book," she enthused, "but that's about it."

"'A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a High German doctor, during the early days of the settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson,'' Grissom mused.

"Ah you're a Washington Irving fan," Ridley praised, "he put our quiet village on the map."

"Eric would love this," Tim grumbled.

Grissom nodded before turning his attention to the tall Lieutenant Caine at last. "Welcome to Las Vegas Lieutenant Caine," he said politely as he extended a hand, "I hope you can find some answers here."

"Me too," Horatio retorted as he accepted the hand and shook it.

"It could be difficult with so much time having past since the victim was here," Gil murmured as he released the hand.

"We just need to trace her last steps here," Horatio explained, "and hopefully that will give us some clues."

"Right, you don't think she was alone," Catherine remarked with an interested look, "you think your killer was here following her and followed her to Miami."

"Perhaps," Horatio allowed.

"Well we will help how we can," Gil commented, "but we do have our own work to attend to so my apologies Lieutenant Caine if we cannot spare the attention you might like."

"It's no problem," Horatio retorted with a polite smile, "we understand."

"Right, well let's get you three to your hotel," Catherine said, "and later, I can show you Vegas' nightlife Horatio."

"I think I shall enjoy that," Horatio answered, still calm and polite though there was a spark of eagerness in his blue eyes.

"So who's Chris?" Tim had the words out before Ridley even sat down her bag.

She eyed her partner with disapproval as he was already in the mini bar hunting out a beer. "It's not even six o'clock Tim," she scorned him.

"And?" he retorted as he shut the fridge and began a hunt for a bottle opener. "What about Uncle Chris?"

"What about him?" Ridley shot back in annoyance as she went to place her hands on her hips but failed as the trembling was still ongoing, milder but still enough to annoy her.

"You're not going to share?" Tim looked at her questioningly with a frown on his face.

Ridley sighed and pushed a hand through her dark, sweat matted tresses. "There's not much to share," she muttered tiredly.

"Not much you want to share," Tim accused. "When you told Eric about your mother and grandfather moving to Sleepy Hollow that was news to me too. You never talk about your family and I've never pushed but we're in a relationship and I want to know more about you."

"Well what about your family?" Ridley retorted heatedly as he finally opened the bottle. "Your parents were actually in Miami," she reminded him sharply. "And okay you and I weren't really talking but you never mentioned them after, not even their names, and no suggestion of an introduction!"

It was Tim's turn to scowl and sigh as he looked about the kitchen in dismay. It was a four star hotel room and it looked it; it was spacious and bright with more furnishings than Tim's house. "I...they, they don't know you," he murmured, "all they know is what they've read."

"Ah." Ridley dipped her head slightly and nodded. "I get it, they don't approve of me, do they?"

"They don't know you," Tim repeated fiercely. "And fuck that's my fault, you're right, I've made no effort to let them know you so they can realise everything they read is bullshit but," he looked at her apologetically, "I just don't want them saying something stupid or nasty and you backing off."

"Backing off?" Ridley echoed with a questioning look.

"You've done it too many times already Ridley," he reminded her with a stern look, "just backing off from me for the better only it's not for the better because things are shit without you. So yeah, I didn't want you meeting my parents in case they upset you and you backed off me because you thought it would be the right thing to do because you think I should have their approval or some nonsense."

"That is nonsense," Ridley chided with a gentle smile, "if they don't like me, they don't like me, that's their prerogative, it's your feelings that concern me Tim."

"Well I love you," he grumbled the words as if they were hard to say, "you know that."

She smiled and nodded. "And I love you too. Chris is my mother's older half-brother," she explained, "when...well..." She sighed. "My mother got pregnant, with me, at fifteen, that's why she and my grandfather moved to Sleepy Hollow, to try and escape the judgement but my grandmother had already separated from grandfather and stayed behind to remain close with her son, Chris. Anyway, grandfather became an alcoholic, I mean he and my mother showed up a broken family with issues in a strange town, it was a terrible decision and they were immediate outcasts. He died pretty quick leaving my mum alone with me. It wasn't great even with what was left of grandfather's money, my mother blamed me for all of her problems and made it clear that I ruined her life," she added listlessly. "A cliché I know."

She paused for a moment, meeting Tim's sympathetic stare before she continued on. "Chris came up a few times, I don't remember how many, he wanted a relationship with us but my mother wasn't interested and shut him out every time. He's the only one who came to see me become an officer," she confessed quietly, "and he took me out for pizza to congratulate me on becoming a detective." She grinned at the fond memory. "I've never seen much of him, but he's always tried with me you know, I let the distance happen I guess..."

Tim took a deep gulp from the bottle and frowned. "Ridley you were all over the news last year, how come your uncle never called or visited? I mean you were in critical care in hospital."

Ridley turned away from Tim as she paled. "Please don't," she murmured quietly, "I don't want to talk about that, not here. He probably just thought I'd push him away or he wasn't paying attention to the news, I don't know Tim."

Tim's frown only deepened. "Ridley I know you don't want to talk about this but it's been almost a year and the shrink isn't helping much, come on, talk about it with me."

"Talk about what Tim?" she asked savagely. "Being the girl who was infamously buried alive? He said it like that's all it was, like I'm some sort of hero for making it out...fuck he can't imagine, all that happened before I went in that death box, hearing the dirt being heaped on top of me," she paused as she felt her chest tighten and let out a shaky breath, "you know Tim, you were there, at the grave, at the hospital you know what happened!"

"Jesus Ridley I do know but I don't know about the before, about Hawkes, I mean didn't your family wonder where you were? How did you get out of that? What the hell did you do after? Did anyone help you? Where was your dad?"

"No Tim," she snapped angrily, "you don't get to play detective on me, it's not fair and it's hypocritical. Do you want to talk about getting shot? About how you're nervous and afraid because he left a body to taunt you? Do you want to share that fear? Because I know that fear Tim, I know what it's like to almost die, what it's like for that guy to still be out there, mocking you."

Tim sighed and shook his head even as he paled. "Alright Ridley," he said softly, "you have a point but I'm not sorry for pushing you. God knows I don't want you to continue reliving this shit but I don't want you stuck with it either. Truthfully I want to make it go away, you know that, but I can't and I can't understand it either when I don't know everything but maybe we could both share a little more.

Look I'll not mention it again while we're in Vegas, it's not fair of me, you're right, let's call a truce hmm?" He gave her a small, hopeful smile.

Ridley smiled even as she felt her eyes burn and hugged her hands into her torso tightly. "Okay," she murmured softly.

Tim parted his arms and embraced her close, burrowing his face against her hair gently before murmuring, "can I get a proper introduction to Uncle Chris?"

Ridley nodded against him. "If you promise to play nice."

"I'm always nice."

"Tim I'm serious."

"I know," Tim grumbled, "but he called you...shit you know."

"I know but he doesn't...I mean I could never tell him, not about that...even if it made me sick to hear him say that name the few times he visited me in New York."

Tim nodded even as he pulled her closer.

Yay Vegas! Apologies for the lack of E/C I promise I will make up for it! I love all the CSIs in case you can't tell and I've had the cameo of the Vegas CSIs planned for a while so I hope you enjoy! A lot of referencing to the episode that started it all for Miami, Cross Jurisdictions, easily one of my favourite episodes :-) Tim really changed from that episode, for the better mind, but I thought I'd offer an explanation as to why. This is before Nick got buried alive btw.

Also Chris Cavaliere, I just wanted Ridley to have a relative from one of the shows but one who was a minor character and honestly I adored Chris ever since he revealed that he takes morbid photographs for a scrapbook, what a little weirdo! So yeah that's were that randomness came from. I felt bringing a relative into it would be a good way to reveal more about Ridley's family life.

Anyway thanks for the reviews and favs as always and keep them coming! I hope you like the Vegas bit!