Well, this is part 2 in the CSI Cheryl series. I'd recommend reading part 1, which was a um, re-write of Lost Son, to set the scene. I'm not expecting reviews or anything. I write for the hell of it. If y'all fancy it though, go for it… I suppose input would be nice. Anyhoos, just enjoy(!)

Oh, yeah, I totally own CSI in every sense of the word, Las Vegas, Miami, and New York… and the games, books and all other merchandise. Even the characters… they're mine, all mine. (!) Ax

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Cheryl was stood in the lab, running a DNA test on a suspect of the B&E she was working on, and singing along to Nickelback on her mp3 player. She had been back at work for two weeks after her 'time-out,' having been given a clean bill of health of the police psychiatrist. She was also doing everything in her power to avoid Horatio. She wasn't ready to deal with that bombshell yet. The only people who knew, as far as she could tell, were herself, Horatio, Calleigh, Valera and Speed.

Both Cheryl and Speed had not been at work, thanks to the shooting they had been involved in. They had both been shot, although Speed had come out in a worse state than she had, and consequently, they had ended up spending a lot of time together. He'd told her about the team, and his past, and in turn, she'd told him about hers, (or at least, a fair chunk of it). And he'd finally accepted her age, although he still claimed at twenty-three, she was the youngest ever CSI.

She was still singing along, although this time to a slightly less respectable Britney Spears song, bopping around the lab as she carried on with the test, when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around, nearly dropping the syringe she was holding, to find herself staring at Speed.

'Jesus Christ!' She yelped, yanking her headphones out.

'Not quite,' he smiled at her. 'Britney? I thought you had better taste than that?'

'Hey, I'll listen to anything, as you well know. What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be back for a couple of days.'

'I know. I came into listen to a lecture of H about cleaning my gun. Thought I'd stop by and see if you want to go out tonight.'

'Where?'

'There's this new club opening on the beach front. Illusions. Calleigh and Delko are up for it.'

'Sure. I'll be done soon anyways.'

'What are you doing?'

Cheryl looked at him as if he'd just asked one of the stupidest questions possible. 'I'm running a DNA test, muppet boy. And here's me thinking you were a CSI.'

'Yes, but we have technicians to do that.'

'And? Valera is busy with something for Calleigh, and besides, the fun part of criminalistics is the science. If I wanted to do a 2D puzzle, I'd have stayed in the NYPD.'

'Okay, science nerd, I'll see you later.' He started to leave, then stopped and turned back around. 'Have you spoken to Horatio yet?'

'No, and I have no intention of doing so.'

'You can't ignore the problem and hope it goes away.'

'I can try.'

'He's your uncle, Cheryl.'

'He's also my boss. I don't want anyone thinking that I'm here on his say-so.'

'Nobody knows though.'

'No, and that's the way I intend on keeping it. I didn't get the job here because of my relations with him.'

'I know. But H is a good guy.'

'And then he can wait until I'm ready to deal with this myself.'

Speed shrugged his shoulders. There was no chance he was going to win this argument. She was too damn stubborn. He left the lab, calling his goodbyes over his shoulder, and went home.

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Later that evening, Cheryl was stood in front of her mirror, examining her reflection. Her red brown hair was loose down her back, hanging in light curls and waves, her bangs softly framing her face. It was the first time she'd worn her hair down in weeks, normally it was scraped back in pigtails or a pony tail. As far as she was concerned, you couldn't work a scene with hair down and in the way. She was hoping Calleigh would soon realise that too.

Never one for much make-up, she wore only mascara and eyeliner, framing her green eyes. And she was wearing a dress. A first in her books, but then again, she never dressed up. She grabbed her purse and hurried out. She had no clue where she was going, but she'd get there eventually.

Eventually turned out to be an hour and three phone calls later, she had parked up and was entering the club. And that wasn't easy to get into either. Of course she had to look underage, and it took her ages to find her ID, but eventually she was in.

Not being able to see the others, she went straight to the middle of the dance floor and joined in with the crowd. Eventually, she was dragged off to a corner by Calleigh, who had managed to spot her on the way back from the bar.

'Let me take one of those,' Cheryl yelled over the music, grabbing one of the bottles of beer, and following her to the table Eric and Speed were sat at. Both of them looked up and did a double take. 'Here ya go,' said Cheryl, placing the bottle on the table. What?'

'You look good,' Calleigh answered, shouting in her ear. 'They're guys… one track mind.'

Cheryl laughed. 'Cheers. I'll be back, need to nip to the bathroom.' She turned and hurried off. On her trip there, she turned the wrong way and ended up in a corridor. She was about to turn around, when she heard voices.

'You came here with me, not him! How many times have I told you not to be looking at other people?' Someone was shrieking. 'You know how mad it makes me.'

Cheryl looked around. There was a couple in there at the back, but it was too dark to see anything, and she was not in the mood to be caught in a domestic. She turned around and headed out, went to the bathroom, then was on her way back to the others when someone walked into her, spilling their drink down her legs.

'Sorry,' she automatically apologised, despite it not being her fault, and headed back to the table, too annoyed to glare at the person. The others had been joined by two girls who were swarming around Eric, much to the amusement of Calleigh, who had just returned from the bar with another round of drinks.

'Come on,' she yelled in Calleigh's ear. 'We're going dancing,' she told her as she pulled the blonde out onto the dance floor. Half an hour later, the girls were gasping for a drink, and headed back to their drinks.

Cheryl was about to take a mouthful of beer when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to find an incredibly cute guy holding a red cocktail of some description out for her. 'It's an apology for spilling my drink down you before.'

'Thanks,' said Cheryl, a little surprised, setting the drink on the table.

'I'm Mark.'

'Cheryl.'

'Aren't you a little young to be in here?'

Cheryl stared at him, 'I'm old enough, thank you.'

'Sorry, it's just that I think you are incredibly good looking, and I wanted to check that it was legal for me to ask you out before I did.'

Cheryl was saved from any further embarrassment by Calleigh, who had wandered over. 'Yall okay over here?' She asked, looking at the unimpressed look on Cheryl's face.

Then Cheryl noticed the light glinting off thegun on the other side of the room, 'DUCK!' She screamed over the music. The others looked at her as if she had gone mad when she dropped to the floor. And then the gunfire began.

Cheryl counted five bangs as everybody dropped to the floor around her, and the music stopped. The second the gunfire stopped, Cheryl looked up, the person who had been firing ran out of the fire exit across the room. She leapt up and charged out of the nearest exit herself, but by the time she had gotten out, all she could just see was the lights of a car reflecting off a nearby building. But she had heard the engine… and that was enough.