Title: Son, Not So Lost
Rating: FMAO, just to be safe later on
Author: Viper/ Brian O'Connor
Disclamer: Ain't mine. Sienna, the Binghams, and Dorian Kayle are mine, but everyone else belongs to big corporations that I don't own. Even Kayle, he’s a lab tech owned by CSI Miami, though I did take the initiative to give him the first name Jeremy. If I had three wishes, ability to dictate what goes on in the scripts would be first. Then I'd want them to be mine. Then I'd wish Lost Son hadn't happened. But I have yet to find a magic lamp with a Genie inside, so I'll just borrow them and return them the same as before..... maybe a little angsted up (*snort*) but generally unharmed. Though Boa will probably be dead *snicker* *tucks 'Kill The Snake Lady' Banner under desk*
Spoilers: Um, Lost Son? Post mole-exposure? When everyone knows about Boa being what she is? 
Warnings: Language, some spoilers, sex in later chapters, whumping, general Boa-Bashing in later chapters, and Slash. But is Slash even a warning anymore, if you're Sylum? :)
Author's Note: This is an AU where Lost Son- You know that episode? It happened here. But not like they display. In this one, Speed is Alive *waits for cheers and applause to die down* and was put into Witness Protection. But he wouldn't leave the team all alone, now would he? *evil smirk*
Author’s Note 2: Also, This probably remarkably incorrect in the regards of procedure of Marshals and Witness Protection, but I'm a College freshman who is only in college thanks to scholarships. All Flames will be used to make pretty fires to keep my mate and I warm, and to keep myself and Dino occupied. Feedback is GREATLY appreciated, cause I love you all, but this is my first story to be posted. Be harsh, but please don't make me cry. Things tend to go boom when I’m upset.

 

 

Chapter 1: Not Who You Thought He Was

 

It was a surprisingly fast day. A heat wave had settled in and people were going crazy from it. But thanks to some neighbor shooting up another neighbor’s dog with anti-freeze and the dog owner’s bullets somehow ending up in the dead neighbor’s chest, he was sitting in the nice, cool Trace lab with his iPod on random as he tried to match which anti-freeze had been used to poison the dog. He felt a tap on his shoulder and pulled his earbuds out as Calleigh smiled at him. She wasn’t working the case with him, she had a DB out at the Miami Race Track with Eric.

“Hey, how can I help you?”

“A suspect refuses to speak to me.”

“Eric’s better with interrogation.”

“He won’t talk to anyone but you specifically. Asked for you by name and description. The name Dorian Kayle sound familiar?”

“Which room?”

He followed Calleigh to one of the interrogation rooms at the corner of the lab. He slipped in and sat down across from the dark man glaring at Tripp. He’d known Dorian and Jeremy Kayle since they’d first moved to Miami. Jeremy was one of the few people in the lab who had been his friend in the beginning and he’d known Dorian long enough to know he preferred to be call Kayle rather than Dorian, and qualify as an unofficial big brother. He met familiar grey eyes as he sat down and leaned back in his seat with a subtle nod. Kayle knew he couldn’t lie to him. Knew he’d vouch for him before the lie detector test and be proven right, because Kayle knew he’d call his BS. He had a built-in ‘Bull Shit Detector’ and the closer you were to him, the easier he could read your lies. His older siblings had the same ‘detector,’ it’s what had made them so good at their jobs, but his was a step above. The twins could hardly lie to each other, but they could keep secrets from each other. They couldn’t from him. It’s what had him a good cop, and Kayle knew all that.

“Who died?”

“Trent Bingham.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. I was with Sienna last night but she’s in MTAC and can’t be disturbed so your cop friend here decided to be my shadow.”

Kayle’s eyes went down to his hands and he picked up on the way his left hand tightened. Kayle was a lefty, like him, and his hand only did that little ‘tighten up into an almost fist while the rest of his arm stayed lax’ thing when something hit too close to home. Kayle was as easy to read as a wall if you didn’t know him; a stoic, big nothing was all you got. And only he had caught his tell from the looks of it. Calleigh was too busy scrutinizing the back of his head and Tripp was too busy watching him interrogate. He was the only one who had an inkling of what had happened. But Kayle was already talking again before he could call him out.

“Ryan Wolfe, fastest son-of-a-bitch on the track. Doesn’t matter if you’re on two wheels or four.”

“You used to beat me.”

“But that was before your brother taught you motorcycles. Always riding around Miami on that bright-ass ‘Canary Yellow’ Ducati. You and Trent are mirror opposites in that area. You aren’t an arrogant son-of-a-bitch like Trent was but you were both trained by family. Tell me something Ryder? I know Speed taught you all about two wheels, just like Carmen taught Trent all about them. But who taught you cars Wolfe?”

He stared at Kayle with nothing showing on his face. Kayle and Sienna weren’t the only ones who could pull the stoic look. He was telling him who had killed Trent in a round about kind of way, leading right up to the X but letting him dig up the treasure. ‘Firstly, no more Pirates for the next few weeks. Second, Sienna taught me cars. And he stressed that Trent and I are mirror opposites….’ He let his face darken in the full second it had taken for the answer to appear and Kayle nodded softly. That BASTARD! He shot up out of his chair and about yanked the hinges off in his haste to get outside. Calleigh and Tripp were probably right behind him, but he didn’t care. He went straight for Eric and found him looking over the evidence in DNA.

“Malcolm Bingham is your murder.”

“We only just got the DNA back.”

“A friend that doesn’t like to be traceable told me in a round about way in the interrogation room. Get a warrant for Malcolm’s DNA and test it to whatever evidence you’ve found so far. He’s a bully that has a hair-trigger temper and likes to use whatever’s at hand to beat the living shit out of whoever pisses him off. Make sure the bastard can’t get off Eric. Trent Bingham deserves it.”

“You two were friends?”

“Bitter rivals. But we respected each other.”

He took Eric’s nod as confirmation and went back to Trace. Calleigh hadn’t followed him to DNA. ‘Normally she’s right on my heels….Oh God. She heard Kayle. She knows, she’s too smart not to tie it all together-’ He shook his head and swallowed hard. He had to leave right now. He couldn’t deal with this today, not with how he’d hallucinated that the biker from this morning had been Speed. He closed out on all his evidence in record time and stealthily made his way to the locker rooms after clocking out. He had enough over-time for the week, after all. No one noticed him, but sometimes it helped to have been a teenage deviant during high school, even if you never got caught sneaking onto the race track at 2 AM. He grabbed his stuff and went out the back to the parking lot. Sienna didn’t answer her cell phone when he tried her, but Kayle had said she was in MTAC. He managed to get to his car without being seen and drove on auto-pilot. He wound up at Sienna’s house and used the key she gave him to go sink down into her couch and zone out. He stared at the picture she kept on the mantle until a bright light blinded him. He blinked as his dry eyes adjusted from the shadows that had been creeping all around the room as the night descended and rubbed the scratchy feeling away as he stood up.

“Ryder, what are you doing here?”

“Trent Bingham was killed by Malcolm. Kayle was pulled in and he told me but the whole team knows about the family by now. Carmen had to have seen it and you know how Kayle and Carmen are seeing each other behind closed doors.”

“And they didn’t before?”