Title: Burn

By: Kasandra

Rating: T for minor language.

Pairing: Talleigh

Summary: Speed and Calleigh share a moment in the elevator. Deleted scene for "Dead Zone" S.2. E.02

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For the most part, the trip back from Vivian Kensington's estate had been quiet. In fact, it was only as they pulled into the MDPD parking lot, did Calleigh realize how quiet it really had been.

When she had first joined the Miami-Dade crime team, Calleigh quickly learned that when Tim had something to say, he didn't let anything or better yet –anyone- stop him from speaking his opinion. However, she also knew he had a tendency to keep to himself and had grown accustomed to it.

Like Tim, she too had been upset that the cross had been tampered with, but knew that the damage was already done and couldn't be changed. There was no need to cry over spilt milk. However, she and Tim were as different as night and day; they handled their anger differently and today's events were no different. She attempted some light hearted, idle minded chit chat to ease the mood, but Tim didn't seem to be in the mood to reciprocate since his confrontation with the art collector.

As they walked up the steps towards the elevator, silenced still reigned. Calleigh pressed the button to signal the elevator, wincing to herself as pain shot through her sore shoulder. She knew she needed to get an ice pack on it as soon as possible. The impact of the spear gun had left a nasty bruise in return.

As they waited for the elevator, Calleigh's mind began to drift off to their recent outing.

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They had arrived at Mrs. Kensington's home with one goal in mind: to pick up the Cross of Santiago and get back to CSI.

Calleigh's eyes grew wide at the sight before her: one of Vivian's workers was brushing a solution on the cross. "Wait a minute! What are you doing? What is he doing?" Calleigh asked alarmed as she jogged up the staircase.

Vivian attempted to wave her off. "Oh, it's just a mild acid solution."

Calleigh gave her a look, her mind was reeling. "That cross is part of a murder investigation, and what he's doing is tampering with evidence."

The elder woman was delightfully charming at first; she had even apologized for the ruined artifact. However, her smile soon faded as the two CSIs demanded that she hand over the gold cross, more so than ever seeing that it had been cleaned – they needed to preserve any little evidence that remained.

Neither CSI bought her apology; however, Tim took the more vocal approach to express his annoyance. "Yeah, sure you are. You know what? We're going to need to take that from you, anyway."

Vivian shot him a sharp look. "Oh, no, you don't. This cross is mine until you youngsters
bring me a warrant from a sitting judge."

"Is that the sacred part you were talking about there, Vivian?" Tim snapped, his disdain increasing by the seconds ticking by.

Vivian cocked an eyebrow, "You must be a Yankee," she haughtily responded.

"Yeah, I'm from Jamaica, Queens." Tim began to retort when Calleigh cut him off, not wanting to make the situation any worse than it already was.

"He's doing his best to serve the great State of Florida, Mrs. Kensington. He's a bit of a rebel himself. So, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind if we got the name of the person who sold you the artifact?" Calleigh offered a sweet smile.

She was rewarded with a smile from Vivian herself. "Well, I might just be able to find that information for you somewhere."

And as Calleigh thanked her, she didn't miss Tim's eye roll that was followed by an irritated sigh.

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The elevator dinged loudly, announcing its arrival and the sound of the bell jarred Calleigh out of her reverie. She gave Tim a small smile as he held his arm out in an attempt to hold the door.

Finally Calleigh decided to break the silence; she couldn't take it anymore. "So today was interesting to say so at the least."

Tim cocked his brow at her. "Interesting doesn't even come close to describing it. Perhaps nauseating is a better word. People like Vivian Kensington think that they're hot shit to trot. Art collector!" he huffed with a hard look on his face. "Did you hear how she called us youngsters?" Tim continued, mocking. "As if we didn't know how to do our job…" he trailed off, now looking down at his feet.

Her mouth formed a silent oh and Calleigh decided not to press the issue further, allowing him vent his frustrations.

Tim looked up at Calleigh once more, the hard look on his face replaced with concern. "How's your shoulder?" he questioned, quickly changing the subject, not wanting to have to deal with it anymore.

His sudden care for her slight injury surprised her. "Oh? How'd you hear about that?" she asked confusedly.

"Hagen and Horatio were having a conversation and I happened to walk by at the right time, I suppose." Tim explained. Calleigh wasn't sure how she didn't notice Tim walk over to her, but she became very aware that he was now standing mere inches from her.

"I'm f-fine. It's not that big of a deal." Calleigh stammered looking up at the dark-haired scruffy man before her. "I can handle my own."

"Can I see?" Tim questioned quietly.

Her mouth went dry as she attempted form a sentence that was coherent but once more he cut her off, "After all, I've seen your tattoo."

'Why am I getting nervous…it's just Speedle,' she thought to herself. Calleigh nodded slowly as she shrugged off the matching suit jacket she was wearing; her cheeks turned pink. "It looks far worse than it really is."

She took a deep breath and her senses were suddenly inundated by the scent of his cologne that she hadn't realized he was wearing until then.

The bruise was deep purple, mixed with reds and yellows, indicating that it was healing. His fingers grazed the injured skin – and Calleigh felt instant goose bumps. "You should really get an icepack on that. I can feel a lump forming." Tim advised.

"I haven't had the time." Calleigh replied softly, not moving to shrug her jacket back on, instead enjoying the feeling of Tim's hand on her shoulder. His thumb massaged the bruise in circles, and she began to wonder how his hands would feel on the rest of her body. Her eyelids fluttered close as he applied a bit more pressure.

Calleigh knew he meant to soothe her, but now her mind was busy conjuring with images of Tim she hadn't thought of before. Her skin felt hot, her pulse began to race and she bit her lip softly, wondering if this was a new found attraction or was something that had been waiting to erupt over time.

Earlier, when John had expressed his concern for her injury, she was appreciative. However, she had been upset that he raced off to tell Horatio. It annoyed her – he made her feel that she needed him to be her great white knight. Calleigh didn't need anyone to protect her. 'However if the roles were reversed and it were Tim who had gone to Horatio, would you have been as upset?' her mind demanded to know.

She frowned, 'I don't like Tim…like that,' she thought to which her conscious sarcastically responded, 'Of course not, that's why you're not imagining him pressing you against the wall of this elevator and kissing you thoroughly.'

The elevator dinged once more, indicating that they had arrived, and Tim pulled his hand off her. Calleigh's eyes opened slowly and she gazed at him not sure of what to say. Her eyes met his and she felt herself quiver inside at the lust she saw in his darkened ones.

"Our floor Calleigh," Tim remarked, his lips twitching into a smile. Calleigh nodded, pulling up her jacket over her now scorched skin.

"I'll see you in a bit, alright? I just need to go review my notes on the spear gun once more." Calleigh replied. Tim nodded in response and as they went their separate ways, she could've sworn she heard him murmur, "I look forward to it."

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Whilst in the ballistics firing range, there was a knock and Calleigh found herself hoping that it was Tim. Instead, she found John holding an icepack.

He gave her a smoldering look one usually reserved for their significant others and she gave him an easy, bright smile, thanking him for the ice pack. She turned back to her current task and paused momentarily before placing the icepack on her shoulder.

A new ache made itself known to Calleigh and she couldn't help but push the guilt aside –she didn't have time to feel anything else.

FIN.