A/N: I do not own CSI Miami or any of it's characters, affiliates...etc. This is just my imagination running with it! I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Pick Pocket

The scene was busy. It had been busy for hours and something caught his eye. The man was ambling closer. Dammit, he must have seen her trip over the trash can. Realizing there was no where to really run, she reach into her pocket and grabbed at a cigarette from the pack she'd been working on all week.

Letting it hang from her lips as she slipped the box back in her jeans, she fished around for her lighter. "Shit!" she spouted irritated at herself.

She found a flame not too far from her face when she looked up. Using the light from it to glance at the man's face, she took in his clear blue eyes and red hair. Using it again, this time to light and take a drag off of her menthol Capri, she exhaled and lifted her chin. "Thanks."

He appraised her. Barely a teenager he'd bet. Too young to be in the streets all alone. Certainly too young to be smoking. "What are you doing out here by yourself?"

Looking up at him, she shrugged. "Learning." Then she looked at his suit, and noticed his badge. "What about you, Duracell?"

Sure she was referring to his red hair, he couldn't help but smile. "Investigating a crime scene, my Dear Watson."

She took another drag off of her cigarette. Her short blond hair was cropped to just below her ears and framed her tiny face nicely as she tucked a piece that was driving her nuts, behind her ear to try and tame it. Dammit she needed a hot shower.

Cocking his head to the side briefly, he took in her gaze. Her eyes were almost silver and the clothes she had on were in rough shape; indicating she'd been in the streets for a while. "Did you see anything?"

"I did, though I'm not sure it has anything to do with your murder over there."

Not even asking how she knew it was a murder, sure over the course of the last few hours, she could probably tell. "Why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll sort it out."

She took a deep breath and another draw. "Fair enough." and she exhaled once more. "Girl was in a heated argument with her pimp earlier. Dark dyed hair, bout five foot five. Pink slutty dress."

Exactly what their dead girl looked like and was wearing. "What did the pimp look like?"

"Wiry dude. Black. Dark skin. Real short cut beard and mustache."

"Catch what he was wearing?"

"White suit."

Instantly, he knew who she was talking about. "Could you hear any of the argument?"

Staring at him untrusting, she nodded. "She wanted out."

He'd been afraid of that. The kid was very respectful of his space, making sure she didn't blow smoke in his face, or get close to him for that matter. She wasn't afraid. Wasn't scared of anything by the looks of it. Seemed to be perfectly at ease in a dark alley. That bothered him.

"Anyway, if you're done, thanks for the light. I appreciate..."

"Wait. Do you have some place warm to stay tonight?"

Unsure of why she was answering him instead of telling him to piss off, she shrugged. "I'm sure I'll find some place."

"Why don't you let me put you some where safe for the night?"

"Hey look." and she coughed, choking on her recent hit from her smoke, "I may float for information and I'm a hell of a pick pocket. But I still have morals and my virginity happens to be one of those things that I won't compromise."

"I wasn't suggesting that. I just meant so you could have a warm place to sleep. Somewhere that I know how to reach you if I need to speak with you again about our victim."

She eyed him. "No one wants to make sure I'm reachable." then she stopped. "Tell you what, if you want to reach me, you can find me at the hotel across the street. Room two-oh-six."

She had street smarts, he had to give her that. "Fair enough. Is the place safe?"

"Depends on what you would consider safe. It's not the Raddison, but there's a warm bed, and there's like four locks on each door."

That would have to be good enough, he thought to himself. He watched as she picked up a duffel he hadn't realized she had, and he walked toward the crime scene as she headed for the establishment.

When he showed back up at the room, with the manager, the next morning after getting a call from his credit card company about a possible fraudulent charge, he found the room spotless, the bed made and an envelope taped to the television screen with the word "Duracell" written on it.

Upon closer look he realized the envelope was simply a piece of paper folded into one. Inside he found his credit card and a small note. "Thanks for dinner. One day I'll pay you back your fifty for the room and my take-out. I told you I was a pick pocket. But I only do it when I'm hungry and I never take more than I need and can give back one day. Until then..." and she signed it "Watson".

Staring at the paper in his hand, he put his card back in his wallet, both irritated and wondering. How in the hell had she gotten his wallet? And if she could get his wallet like that, she sure could have gone for his gun. And she hadn't. Which meant she wasn't the type to take advantage, though that was exactly what she'd done in a sense. Looking around the room he knew, he wouldn't see her again, until she wanted him to.

It was almost six weeks before they crossed paths again. "Watson!" he said calling to the figure across the street. She looked tired. Very tired.

"What's up Duracell?" then she glanced at the blond woman beside him. "Who's the Betty?"

"Betty?" Calleigh asked back, not sure if she should be offended or not.

The girl shrugged. "It means you're a hottie. Definitely a compliment." the she closed her eyes and shook her head. "But don't take it the wrong way. I don't skate on those rinks."

The girl was infectious. Her personality bubbled and made her smile. She could see why Horatio gravitated toward her. He tended to seek out those who would be the little guy. And as bubbly as she was, the kid looked like she was in rough shape and in need of a boost for sure.

"Glad I ran into you anyway." and she dug into her change pocket on her jeans, pulling out a bill of some sort, folded into a shirt.

Taking it, he realized at a glance it was a fifty dollar bill. "Thanks. Do I dare ask how you managed to..."

"Don't worry. I didn't steal it. I told you I floated for information. Most times, people will pay a pretty penny for something I might have."

"Including a hotel room and take out?"

"I just paid you back for it too. I'm not perfect, and I'll do what I have to, to survive, including pick pocketing a cop until I can pay him back. But I also wouldn't have done that, that night, if I hadn't needed a shower and a warm bed either."

"I should be mad at you for that." then his tone softened. "Do you ever get into tight spots 'floating for information'?"

She shrugged. "Most times, people don't know where the information comes from. I have the gift of gab and most people don't take notice to a short little shit like me. I keep it that way for a reason. I made that mistake once when I first started out and got stabbed as well as got my father killed." Her eyes grew misty though he could tell she was keeping it in. "I never made that mistake again."

"Well I have to admit, you helped me tremendously with your information about the pimp. We were able to actually nail him for the murder and he sat there for hours trying to figure out who and how anyone had heard their conversation."

She nodded. "I've learned how to become a ghost, and I'm good at it." then she eyed him, smiling slyly. "Aren't I?"

Sure she knew that he'd looked for her, even if he wasn't sure how, he nodded. "That, you are Watson. I must admit, I'm surprised at how much. Which leads me to another question. A favor of sorts."

Crossing her arms across her chest, she nodded toward him then she sobered. "I don't do favors, and I don't come cheap. I refuse to snitch on little stuff, so if that's what you're asking..."

"On the contrary, I simply want information."

"Okay? What kind of information?"

"First answer a question for me."

She glanced from the redhead to the blond. Looking back up at him as she realized the woman was getting amusement from watching their exchange. "Ask away. I'll be as honest as I can."

"How did you know I was going to come back to the hotel that next morning?"

"Perception, Duracell. I told you what room I was going to be in, and lets face it, it's not like it's the greatest hotel, it's not like you really have to fight for a room even if you do have to wait for it to be cleaned out afterwards. You had already said you wanted to know where I was if you had more questions, which at least gave the intent that you would indeed be back. And I'm taking a hunch, though I'm not sure, did you notice your Visa missing before you got a call from your bank?"

Unable to stop himself from smiling, he shook his head. "Honestly, no, I didn't. You remembered that it was a Visa?"

"I have sort of a photographic memory. There are times that I can remember exactly what something looks like or remember a conversation, if I want to. Some things are buried in there, and just refuse to come out regardless, so I try not to mess with suppressed stuff, but what I do remember most time is a doozy." then she smiled at him. "Like credit card numbers and birth dates. Makes it good for trading information for money or a place to sleep and something to eat."

"I'm assuming you're talking about me?"

"According to your drivers license, your date of birth is April seventh, nineteen sixty. I couldn't catch your drivers license number because I was looking for the black card. Which speaking of, credit card number, four zero zero two - you've had the same card number for a long time - eight eight three zero..."

Shaking his head, he stopped her and smiled. "Okay, okay. Point taken. So can you help me out?"

"I don't know. You haven't told me what you want."

He nodded. "I haven't, you're right. I need help on a current murder investigation and I'm hoping you either know something or can find out for me."

"I haven't heard anything about a murder. But I can ask around. When and where?"

"Best we can tell, around four this morning, and we found the body in the hotel room that you were in."

That took her back. Admittedly she hadn't expected that.

He caught her panic for a fleeting moment then it was gone again. Masked by the seriousness that she kept prominent.

She cleared her throat. "Give me four hours. Where do you want me to meet you?"

He studied her. "Four hours?"

"Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Can you come to my lab? I've got work to do but I don't want you to be caught..."

"Ghost." she said softly. "I'll be there." turning away, she stopped real quick before she disappeared around a building. "Oh, and don't worry. You have my word, I won't share your information with anyone." and she was gone.

Horatio turned to Calleigh. "Well?"

"Duracell and Betty?"

He smiled. "Infectious, isn't she?"

"You called her Watson."

"I did. The first night I met her, she said she was alone in the street learning, and for whatever reason, it made me think of Sherlock and Watson."

"And what about this fifty dollars?"

"She told me she would be at the hotel around the corner. I didn't know she had my card. They asked me at the bank if I wanted to press charges. I found my card and a note and decided against it. Kid needed a break." then his brows furrowed. "Much like she does now."

"You think you can get her to stay at the lab long enough to eat and maybe sleep?"

"Sleep, not a chance. She wont let her guard down long enough for that. Eat, maybe."

He'd been right when she showed up exactly as expected. There had been no phone call from the front desk or anything, she just simply, for all intensive purposes, appeared, in his office. He opened the door, almost surprised to see her standing there with her hands behind her back, reading a certificate hanging on his wall, even though he had to admit he half expected her to just materialize somewhere within his vicinity. "What have you got?"

He didn't ask about how she'd gotten past security, or had moved with no one noticing her. He got right to business. She opened her mouth and a hand came up.

"I'm hungry. Walk with me."

She stared at him. "What?"

"I'm hungry."

"You want to eat?"

He nodded. "Sorry, I do this with my employees all the time." then he stopped on his way out the door. "You want something?"

"I thought you wanted information."

"Does that mean you don't want something?" he asked, reading the sheer confusion on her face. "You said you don't come cheap. Well what if I feed you, of my own accord, this time, and you can consider that a tip. You actually haven't even told me what you want for your information."

She stared at him, unable to explain, much less understand how she even felt. "You're very peculiar."

"Really? Now that's a term of endearment, I have never had the pleasure of being called." then he held his office door open. "Food?"

Standing there for another moment, she followed him out slowly. "Okay." She trailed him down the elevator and to the park that was across the street from the lab. He walked to a small hot dog stand, and damn it smelled good. Her stomach gave her away as she stepped closer.

"Best dogs in Miami." and he ordered, taking her order as well and handed the guy a twenty dollar bill. Taking a bite of his lunch, he sat down at the nearest bench and ate. "So tell me about yourself."

Stopping for a moment, she glanced at him and blurted out. "Information about me isn't for sale."

The look he gave her was a mix of irritation and sorrow for what she'd been through to even consider anything about her as for sale. "That's not...that's not what I meant."

Shaking her head she looked at him. "No. I'm sorry. I'm used to everything being for a price. No one ever asks me about me, just to make conversation."

"I'm sorry."

Staring at him, it was easy to tell he was telling the truth. Even if she didn't understand it. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because. People aren't just objects for inspection to find out what can be used to break them down. I'm not sure what you're used to, but I would never use something I knew about you to my advantage."

"See that's a completely foreign concept to me."

"And that bothers me."

"Why? You don't even know me."

"Does that mean that I'm not supposed to want to?"

"People don't want to know me. They simply want me for information."

"Well I don't want you for just information."

"Says the man who asked me to find out about a murder. Which I was able to procure that particular ammunition by the way. Though by the sounds of it, that's hardly the point. Is it?"

"It's unnerving how perceptive you are sometimes. Especially to be as young as you are."

"But you don't know how old I am. I could be twenty."

He shook his head. "You look like you're twelve."

Shaking her head she stared at the ground. "I'm seventeen. And perception is just that. You learn a lot when you do what I do. And you either learn it fast or you get your throat cut."

Damn this kid raised every protective bone in his body. "You mentioned your dad died. What about your mom?"

She looked up into his eyes. "My mom left me with my dad when I was a baby. I got sick and she couldn't handle the pressure."

"I'm sorry." he said, more casual this time.

She shrugged. "Some people just aren't meant to be parents. I can't be mad at that. Lord knows I've had my fair share of failures, trying to be something I'm not."

She had such a mature way of thinking about things. Finishing her dog, she stuffed the paper wrapper in her pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stood up as she walked across the walkway to another bench and lit it. "You really shouldn't smoke."

She bent over and put her elbows on her knees. Unable to stop herself from smiling, she closed her eyes in a long blink. "I shouldn't do a lot of things. But you know," and she shrugged, "What are ya gonna do?"

Looking at her, he nodded. "I understand."

She was amazed. He really wasn't going to push the issue.

"So what are your terms for the information?"

She stared at him. "Quite honestly, a warm place to sleep wouldn't be too bad. Place to take a shower."

Nodding, he glanced around to where he knew the closest hotel was. Crumpling up his hot dog paper, he threw it into the trash can beside them and started walking. Turning back around, he looked at her. "Come on." he said softly.

She followed, all the way to the nicest place she'd ever seen, and waited for him to come back with a hotel room key. Looking down at her own clothes, he took note that she literally almost shrank down as far as she could. Holy shit. She was dressed too ratty for this place. Stepping back she tilted her head up and looked at the three story building.

He watched her turn and start to walk away. "Wait. I haven't gotten..."

She turned. "You're looking for Jorge Lopez. He hangs out not far from the hotel in a bar a block from there. He's got dark hair and a mustache and he's stocky. Killed the guy because he called him 'Taco' instead of Jorge." Then she handed him back the room keys.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't...I can't stay here. I just...I can't."

"Why?"

She turned around and stared at him as if to ask why he said that. "Do you see me right now? I can't set foot in there! They'd just as soon throw my ass out, key or not. You did your part. It's not your fault I'm..." and she stared at herself before she continued. "Not good enough for...no. Thanks anyway."

"Can I do something else for you to..."

"No. You did what I asked. It's not your fault that I can't..."

He reached out, stopping when she took an instantly defensive stance as he stepped toward her. "Easy. I was going to see if you would accept me taking you around the corner for new clothes that you're in need of."

Stopping, she studied him. "I haven't earned that."

"I disagree."

"All I did was give you information."

"That will help me put a murderer away. I'm not asking you to let me buy an entire wardrobe. Just a pair of jeans, a shirt and some shoes."

The look in her eyes was a mixture of wonder and distrust. "Why?"

"If this turns out like the last time, you're going to make wonders in this case. You have no clue how valuable you really are, do you?"

That stopped her in her tracks. "I have no value. Only my ability to gain knowledge."

"No, sweetheart. You hold a lot more value than simple information."

Surprising even herself, she held her chin up and nodded. "Alright fine. If you want to buy me jeans and a shirt, by all means. And then I'll walk my happy ass right on in there for the night. But after that, don't come looking for me unless you need something. I don't need to make a mistake worrying about you because you're looking for me again."

He studied her. "Fair enough." Kid was tough. She knew exactly what it meant to be taken advantage of and she knew what it meant to accept an offer that was handed to her as well. Not saying another word, he started walking to the clothing store next door to the inn. She was fitted and as she started to disappear into the hotel. "Watson?"

She turned around.

"Order room service and get yourself something to eat for dinner tonight. Alright?"

Staring, she nodded before entering the lobby.

Heading back to the lab, he gave Calleigh the information and told her about the entire encounter. "It's damn unnerving to be around this kid."

"Do you think you'll see her again?"

"If she's right, and this is our guy and we can prove it, I'm going to do everything I can to find her when we're at a brick wall like this. It doesn't happen often, but..."

She nodded. "Alright. Well lets go see what we can do with this then."