Title: Dealer

Author: Bj Jones

solokid1@yahoo.com

Fandom: CSI Miami

Rating: PG

Pairing: Speed/?

Disclaimer: I don’t own them, various producers and studio executives who make more money than I can imagine own them. I’m just borrowing them and will return them to the lab when I’m finished.

Summary: Speed talks about dealing out addictions.

Authors Note: Counter of Addiction

Archive: Sure, just let me know where



Dealer
by Bj Jones
~*~*~*~*~

I’ve faced my share of demons, and I’ve battled my share of addictions. So I admit it was quite a surprise to find myself in this role. I of all people understand its addictive powers, understood the hell it can put you through. How once you’re snared, it grabs hold and sinks its teeth into you. Like I said I’ve tasted the power addiction can have over you, and I conquered it through hard work and perseverance, and I might add pure unadulterated luck.

So, yes, it came as a complete shock to the system that I now have become the dealer, supplying the addiction, snaring my target and not letting go. Taking advantage of a shown weakness, milking it, using it, manipulating it to my advantage.

I first offered it as a one-time solution. No strings, no commitments, just a way to forget that sweet angel, taken by the evils man. I supplied what he needed, and then left him cold in the morning. Cruel? Yes. Necessary? Yes, when you’re leading a man down the path of addiction. Isn’t that the point, making sure they come back for more?

It was a slow process; the man I was snaring was one of the strongest men I know. He isn’t easily persuaded to indulge in weaknesses. He’s seen what addiction can do to a person, a family, and a community. Hell, he’s seen his own family torn apart, by addiction. We watch as sweet Calleigh battles her father’s addiction daily. So to make this man fall, was not an easy task. No one said it would be easy. I’ve always loved a good challenge, it make the thrill of victory so much sweeter.

I used our jobs as my advantage. There is always a horrendous case, another innocent victim taken before they had a chance to live. A bombing, a family killed because an employee had a grudge. I watched through the glass walls, we work in, as he processed the five-year-old’s clothes. He looked up at me, and I saw the need in his eyes. I gave him what he needed, and once again left him cold in the morning.

I know your thinking I’m cruel, but isn’t all dealers cruel. We don’t care why you’re at our door, we just care that you’re there. He soon sought me out, and it wasn’t after a tough case. He caught me in the elevator, those glasses firmly in place. As the doors closed I slipped them off, and I could see the need in his eyes. I had finally snared him.

As I curl up next to him on the verge of sleep I could feel his fingers smooth my hair away from my face. I murmured softly, as he pulled me closer to him, my head resting on his chest, snuggling closer to him. What he doesn’t realize, and what I finally admitted to myself in this simple moment, that all this time, it wasn’t I who was supplying the addiction. It was my own addiction to him, my obsession, and my need, which caused me to snare him with my dealings.

I, Timothy “Speed” Speedle, am addicted to one Horatio Caine. And I have no intention of letting him out of
my clutches.



END