If one more person walked into the lab to ask her a question, she was going to scream. Horatio was the first to come in. He had needed to verify something she'd written in a preliminary report for another case. She could almost forgive him since he was her boss. Almost.
Delko was the next one to come in. He was in his usual case-solved good mood since the case he'd been assigned to work just closed, wanting to know if she wanted to go for a drink with him to celebrate as soon as he turned in all of his paperwork. Celebrating was the last thing on her mind since she was still working on her case and "trying" to finish up the ballistic reports in a concise manner so the creep who killed his ex-wife and kids wouldn't walk out of the courtroom a free man.
Rich, the ballistics guy from the night shift, came in to ask her opinion on something. Or rather, he tried to pawn off doing an analysis on her since she was the best ballistics person on staff. Calleigh didn't take the bait and sent him on his way.
Luke, who ran the shooting range and gun vault, came in with a couple questions and a scenario he wanted her opinion on. Normally, she would be happy to help him out and get to play with some of the toys he kept in the vault, just not today.
At first, she was shooing the visitors to her lab away with a smile but each time the door opened her smiled faded. The second time Eric came in she greeted him with a growl that caused him to back out without uttering a word.
If she hadn't been pressed for time with the report she was trying to finish she wouldn't have minded the interruptions as much.
Tim watched from his place in the trace lab as people slunk from the lab like puppies with their tails between their legs. He knew this case had stressed Calleigh. It reminded her of a case from early in her career where a man had gotten away will killing his wife because of a mistake in the evidence. He knew how badly she wanted all the reports to be perfect in order to nail the guy. He waited until he saw her lay her pen down and lean back in her seat, indicating she was finished, before walking in.
Pushing the door open, he called out a quiet, "Hey."
"Hey," she replied looking up with a smile. *He*, in all the people who passed through her lab today, was the only person she was actually glad to see.
She nodded as she closed the folder. "Finally."
"Wanna do something?" He knew she'd need a release as she always did after tough cases.
She smiled at him, or rather, she grinned mischievously, and came back with, "I feel the need for speed."
He grinned, oh where he could go with that statement. "I think I can help you out."
"I'm sure you can," she replied, her voice low and sultry.
Flipping open his cell phone, Tim called a buddy of his who loaned him his speed boat whenever he had the desire to leave the city behind and go racing down the coast. He watched Calleigh as he talked to his friend and imagined how she'd look with her face in the wind and that long blonde hair of hers blowing out behind her, letting the flow of the air cleanse the case she'd worked from her mind and spirit.
Maybe they would stop, shed their clothes and go for a swim, or maybe he'd take her home afterward, join her in that oversized tub of hers and wash her hair then take her to bed. Or maybe he'd just let her call the shots and see where it took them.
"Ready," he asked as he closed his phone.
"More than ready," she replied hooking her arm around his and directing them out of the lab toward their adventure.