Secret Agent Man

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to CBS and associated parties, not me. Secret Agent Man was written by P.F. Sloan and S. Barri and recorded by Johnny Rivers, and I make no claim to it either.

A/N: This multi-chapter story is AU and based on the premise that Tim was never a CSI, but instead a UC agent for the FBI. FRT for mild violence, language and sexual content. No spoilers. SC.

Prompt: Written for the MiamiFicTalk prompt challenge. Prompt #12 – Broken.

There's a man who leads a life of danger

To everyone he meets he stays a stranger

Secret agent man, secret agent man

They've given you a number and taken away your name

- Secret Agent Man

Chapter One: The Accident

The summer air in Miami was so heavy with moisture that Calleigh Duquesne felt like she should be swimming instead of walking. The humidity was hovering at ninety percent, and there was no sign of rain in the forecast. This time of year one could practically set one's watch by the daily afternoon rainstorms, but they'd gone three days without one now, and the soupy nature of the air reflected the rain's absence.

Calleigh opened the door to her car, waiting for a moment before climbing in. The car had tinted windows, and she had left it parked in the shade, but even so, the inside temperature was well over 100 degrees. When the worst of the heat had rushed out, she got in, turning over the engine and immediately cranking up the A/C.

While the car cooled off, Calleigh lifted her hair off her neck and fanned it. Several darker blond strands stuck to her neck, and she wished for the hundredth time that day that she had remembered to bring a hair band to work. She sighed and let her hair fall back down on her shoulders. It wouldn't matter soon. In twenty minutes she would be home, and she could strip down to her bra, panties and a tank top. She was already imagining the large glass of ice water that she would fix, and how she could hold the cool glass against her forehead in between sips.

Calleigh placed her hands tentatively on the steering wheel, ready to yank them away if it was too hot. Only the foolhardy planted their bare palms on a steering wheel in Miami without first checking. The metal buckle of her seatbelt was still hot, but she gritted her teeth and slid it quickly across her body. She was ready to be at home. With her sunglasses in place, Calleigh threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking lot.

She drove leisurely across the city, for once not minding the extra traffic that Friday afternoons always brought. She watched in her rearview mirror as two cars raced up behind her, cutting in and out of the traffic lanes. They parted at her bumper, one taking the lane to the right and the other the lane to the left. Calleigh shook her head as the two cars continued to swerve in and out of the traffic ahead of her. They weren't going to get to their destination any faster than she was, but they were going to end up causing an accident if they didn't cut it out.

The thought had no sooner formed in her mind than she saw it played out on the highway before her. The second car, a low-slung black sedan, flashed its brake lights briefly before slamming into the back of the mid-sized SUV that it had been chasing. The nose of the sedan crumpled underneath the SUV's bumper, and the windshield buckled and cracked as it smashed into the SUV's trailer hitch.

"Thanks, guys," Calleigh muttered, reaching for her cell phone. Although she was officially off duty, it was still her responsibility to at least call in the accident in and wait until a patrol car arrived. She steered her car over to the shoulder of the road and put it in park.

Calleigh pushed her sunglasses up on her head and surveyed the wreck. Horns began to blare angrily as tired drivers found themselves stuck in instant gridlock.

Calleigh dialed the main police switchboard and waited as the line began to ring. She tore her eyes away from the scene for a second to rummage in her glove compartment for some accident forms. The operator came on the line just as her head popped back up above the dash.

"Miami-Dade Police Department," the operator said in a weary voice. "How may I direct your call?"

"This is CSI Duquesne," she began, rummaging in her purse for a pen. "I need to report an automobile accident."

"Hold, please," the woman said. Calleigh stifled a groan as the phone began to ring again.

She opened the door of her car and hopped out, her chest nearly collapsing under the suffocating heat. This really was not on her afternoon agenda, she thought grumpily.

"Hey," she called out to the two drivers, who were both emerging from their cars, looking a little dazed but all in one piece. "Hey, Miami-Dade police. I need to see both y'all's license and registration."

The men ignored her and began speaking with each other, pointing at the cars' bumpers. Within seconds, their conversation increased in volume, and Calleigh watched in horror as one of the drivers landed a solid punch on the other driver's face. The beaten man staggered back a few steps, his hand flying to his nose, the bright red blood spewing from between his fingers. He shook his head, growled, and charged at the other driver. Their bodies collided with a sickening thud before falling to the ground. Fists began to fly in both directions, and traffic came to a dead standstill in all lanes as other drivers stopped to gawk openly.

"Cut it out!" Calleigh yelled, dropping her forms and sprinting over to the two men, her cell phone still to her ear. "Stop it!" She had just reached the men and was grabbing for one of them when a second operator, sounding as bored as the first, picked up the line.

"Miami-Dade Police Department. Who are you holding for?"

"I have a car accident and assault in progress," she yelled into the phone, stepping back from the two men to finish her phone call. "I need backup and uniforms to the scene immediately."

The operator straightened up and took Calleigh's location efficiently, her attention now piqued. "I have two patrol cars five minutes out," she told Calleigh. "Can you control the scene until then?"

"I don't have much of choice now, do I?" Calleigh answered, adding a quick thanks to temper her sarcasm before flipping her phone shut.

In the brief moment that Calleigh had taken to call in the incident, several motorists had stepped from their cars, warily approaching the feuding men.

"Get back!" Calleigh yelled at the bystanders. She moved in towards the men, quickly assessing the fastest and safest way to separate them. The moment came, and she lunged forward to grab one of the men around the waist and pull him back. He stumbled backwards and tripped, sending him and Calleigh tumbling towards the ground. Calleigh let out a cry as her elbow connected with the asphalt, then bit her lip hard enough to draw blood when she heard the sickening sound of her bone snapping in two. Pain surged through her body, and stars flashed before her eyes.

She released the man and rolled onto her side, her unbroken left arm reaching over to cradle her broken right one. She looked down and blanched when she saw not only blood but also the jagged edge of bone poking out through her skin. Calleigh's head began to spin, and she managed to avoid falling into unconsciousness only by digging her nails into her palms.

A collective cry rose up from the onlookers, and Calleigh glanced up. Freed from his attacker's onslaught, the other man had retreated to his car and was now brandishing a shotgun. His face was twisted into a mean snarl, and he was advancing upon the other driver and Calleigh at a rapid pace.

Calleigh stumbled to her feet, her own gun lying useless on the passenger seat of her car. The gunman averted his gaze from the other driver, who was still lying on the asphalt, coughing and spitting blood, and leveled his gaze at Calleigh.

"Don't move, lady," he growled, and Calleigh froze.

The wail of sirens cut through the noise. "Are you a cop?" he asked, and Calleigh nodded. "Did you call those?" he asked. She nodded again.

"Look," she said, interrupting him. "Just put the gun down. No one has been hurt yet. It was just a fender bender. Worst-case scenario, your insurance is going to go up. But if you shoot me…"

"Shut up," he yelled at her, waving the gun around wildly. "Just shut up!"

Calleigh nodded, averting her eyes discretely towards her car. Her own cell phone had rolled out of reach when she had fallen to the ground, but if she could just get back to her car, then she could use the radio to call for more back up and let the responding officers know what they were up against. Calleigh took one small step backwards, and then another.

"Where do you think you're going?" the gunman yelled, and Calleigh froze. "I told you not to move!"

Despite the sweat that she could feel running down the side of her face, Calleigh shivered. Her stomach instantly went sour as she saw him pump the shotgun. This was it, she thought. Her life was going to end here, on a Friday afternoon in the middle of Miami rush hour.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. Sneaking up behind the gunman, his service pistol drawn and cocked, was a slender man, the details of his chiseled face concealed by a thick five o'clock shadow. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but Calleigh imagined that they were as dark as the short hair that was curling above his ears. He caught Calleigh's eyes and shook his head, pausing only briefly to flash her his badge.

From her vantage point Calleigh had no way of telling what division he was with, or even if his badge was valid. All she had seen was a brief flash of gold, and then it was gone, the man's grasp once again firmly secured on the butt of his gun.

Calleigh forced herself to focus her gaze back on the gunman. He was still yelling, screaming and waving his shotgun about. Based on the rage he was in, Calleigh doubted that his aim was very accurate, but she also knew that with shotguns, accurate aim was not needed. Her only hope for getting out of this mess alive rested either on the back-up officers, if and when they arrived, or the mysterious agent who was slowly advancing on the gunman. She could only pray that his accuracy was better than the man he was stalking.

She readjusted her grip on her arm and winced. She needed to get to a hospital, and soon. Aside from the immediate worry of the blood loss she was sustaining, there was also the risk of infection, which was compounding at an accelerated rate the longer she stood with her broken bone exposed to the open air.

Calleigh discretely slid her eyes to the right again. The armed agent was still advancing on the gunman, his attention focused completely on him. His movements were as slick as a cat's, and despite the severity of the situation, she couldn't help but admire his gracefulness.

The sirens continued to wail, drawing ever closer. The gunman continued to rant, but he was lucid enough to keep his gaze and aim trained on Calleigh. She closed her eyes. It would only be a few minutes now…

A cry rang out through the air. "Hey, lady, get down!" Calleigh fell to the ground, knowing instinctively that the voice yelling at her belonged to the agent who was trying to save her. She collapsed, shielding her arm as best she could but unable to keep from jarring it as she fell. She heard the pistol fire, followed by a muffled scream, and then winced as the unmistakable sound of a shotgun firing filled the air. The bystanders who had left their cars screamed and ran. Calleigh rolled onto her back, relieved to still be alive, and then faded from consciousness.

It was only a few moments later when she felt someone touching her. Warm, strong arms slipped beneath her body and lifted her, pulling her close to a well-muscled chest. "You're going to be fine," a gravely voice said, and Calleigh recognized through her haze of pain that it was the same voice that had yelled for her to get down. She forced her eyes open and gazed into a dark pair of worried eyes.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

He smiled at her, and Calleigh's heart flipped over on top of itself. "Let's get you to a hospital, okay? It's going to be quicker if I take you myself. Is that okay?"

"Are you really a cop?" she asked. Despite being enamored by his looks and charm, Calleigh was still lucid enough to realize that she had no idea if this man really was who he claimed to be.

He nodded and handed Calleigh his badge. "I'm a federal agent. Are you okay with me taking you to a hospital?"

Calleigh briefly glanced at the badge, decided to take her chances, and nodded before closing her eyes.

Secret Agent Man...

The next time she regained consciousness was when the agent lifted her body out of the back of his car. She opened her eyes, recognizing the Emergency entrance to Miami General. "I need a gurney," he yelled. Calleigh closed her eyes again.

"Hey," he said to her, rousing Calleigh from her daze. "I'm going to have to leave you in a minute, okay? You're going to be in very capable hands; I've made sure of that."

"Why can't you stay?" Calleigh asked. "I don't even know your name."

"I'm UC," he said, smiling ruefully. "But if I'd known that someone as pretty as you was running around Miami, then I might have chosen another career."

She smiled. "I'm Calleigh Duquesne, Miami CSI."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Duquesne. Is there anyone you need me to call? A husband? Boyfriend?" His rich brown eyes staring so concernedly into her own warmed her, even as her body began to shiver from the shock of blood loss.

Calleigh shook her head. "No, there's no one like that. But can you call my boss? He'll know what to do. His name is Horatio Caine, and he's head of the…."

"I know who he is," he said quickly, his voice flat and his gaze distant. It was gone as quickly as it came, and his voice resumed its soothing tone. "I'll call him. He'll make sure everything is taken care of."

He was going to say more, but two nurses with a gurney were rushing towards them. He gently laid her down on the gurney, pausing briefly to brush her hair out of her face before speaking to the nurses. "She broke her arm apprehending a suspect," he told them. "She's a Miami-Dade police officer, and I expect her to be treated as such. Her boss is Horatio Caine. I'm about to call him. Take good care of her, okay? I think she's going into shock."

"You're not staying?" one of the nurses asked. "We'll need you to fill out paperwork."

"Take it up with her boss," he said, stepping back. "I'll speak with him. He'll get you all the paperwork you need."

"Wait," Calleigh said, reaching out to grab his hand. "I never got your name."

He looked down at her, smiling in spite of himself. She was beautiful, and had effortlessly captured his heart in the few minutes they'd spent together. He was sorely tempted to break his UC contract just so he could stay with her.

"If I tell you," he said, "Can you keep it to yourself?"

She nodded.

"It's Tim," he said, bending down to whisper his name into her ear. Calleigh shivered at the feel of his breath blowing across her face. "Good-bye, Miss Duquesne."

"It's Calleigh," she cried out, but he was already gone, striding purposefully across the pavement. One of the nurse stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and Calleigh closed her eyes. He was gone. The nurse covered her with a thin sheet, and Calleigh drifted from consciousness.

Secret Agent Man...

It was several hours before a wave of pain roused Calleigh. She opened her eyes and moaned as pain radiated through her.

"Calleigh?" a familiar voice asked. Calleigh forced her eyes to focus on the figure sitting at the end of her bed.

"Horatio?" she whispered. "My arm?"

"Your arm's going to be just fine, sweetheart," he told her, standing up. "They had to put a couple of pins in it, and you'll have to stay on IV antibiotics for a few days, but you'll be alright."

Calleigh nodded. "What about those two guys?"

Horatio's face clouded for an instant. "We got them," he said.

"Who got them?" Calleigh asked, now fully awake and momentarily oblivious to the pain.

Horatio tilted his head and looked at Calleigh. "We're not sure," he said finally. "Most likely it was that UC agent who brought you to the hospital. The responding officers said that the suspects were already cuffed when they arrived."

"You don't know who it was?" Calleigh asked. Horatio shook his head.

"But he said he knew you… When I asked him to call you…"

"Shh, sweetheart," Horatio interrupted, placing a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up. You need something for the fever. I'm going to call the nurse, okay?"

"You know who he is, Horatio!" Calleigh called out as Horatio turned to leave her room. "I know you do!"

Horatio continued to walk away, stopping briefly to speak with the nurse, who hurried in and pushed a syringe of something into Calleigh's IV. "No," she muttered weakly, even as the drug pushed her back into sedation. "I want to see Tim..."

Secret Agent Man...

The next time Calleigh awoke it was dark, and the bedside clock indicated that it was after midnight. Despite being groggy from the day's ordeal as well as the medication, Calleigh sensed that she was not alone.

"Horatio?" she called out, assuming that he had returned. "Are you there?"

A dark figure emerged from the shadows of the corners of her room. "I'm not Horatio," he said quietly. "Is that who you want?"

"Tim," Calleigh said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that you?"

He moved closer, until he was right next to her bed. He took her good hand in his and clutched it firmly. "We're better off not using names here, okay?"

Calleigh nodded. "You came back."

He nodded as well. "You're a hard woman to forget," he said, his face taking on a wistful look.

"Thank you again for today," Calleigh said.

Tim shrugged off her thanks. "You would have been fine without me. I did some checking up on you, Bullet Girl."

Calleigh smiled. "Probably so, if I hadn't broken my arm. But then I wouldn't have met you."

"There's not many people who view meeting me as a positive point," he said. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Tim looked around warily.

"You're going to have to go soon, aren't you?" Calleigh asked.

He nodded. "I risked too much coming here as it was. But I had to make sure that you were okay."

"Horatio said he didn't know you. I didn't tell him your name, but…."

"Don't worry about Horatio," he said, brushing a few hairs off her face. "I wish it didn't have to be like this," he said quietly. "I was supposed to…" he stopped.

"You were supposed to what?"

"Never mind," he said, shaking his head. "You get some rest, okay?"

"Will you stay until I fall asleep? I'm tired of being told that I need to get some rest and then having some nurse come in and push drugs in my IV until I don't have a choice in the matter."

He laughed at her cross tone. "Of course."

Tim leaned down to kiss her forehead, but Calleigh jerked her face up at the last minute, and his lips crashed into hers. Calleigh moaned and parted her lips, giving Tim far more encouragement than he needed….

TBC...