Summary: Dead body. Bad weather. One hell of a night.

Timeline: Season 6, sometime after "Still Life" (no direct episode spoilers, but plenty of references)

Disclaimer: This is all written in fun and trial for something new. Everything CSI is not mine and never will be. It belongs to the creative talent of the actors, the writers, the directors, and producers. I am not making any money off of this. Only meant to offer something new on something already so great. No reason to sue. Don't own anything with the song either. All rights belong to Garth Brooks and Pat Alger. Just using it for some inspiration and chapter titles.

Title: And the Thunder Rolls

By: duffshel

Author's Note: Here we are again. Sorry for the long wait! I really didn't mean for this to take so long to get out. Just a lot of things got in the way. As with my other two, there is no set schedule for posting. I will warn you now, this might take a little longer with updates than before. I promise nothing terribly long though! This is the third draft of this story and I am still working at chopping it up. Just couldn't wait any longer to begin posting! Hope no one minds! Well, let's begin with my ever so common (and very short) prologue and set up. Let me know what y'all think as always. See ya sometime soon!

Prologue: There's a storm moving in…

The wood was soft against Kayla Bicker's tongue. It was the one thing about playing the clarinet that she hated most. Nothing worst that that fresh taste of a new reed. It never failed to make her gag. But, of course, there was no way to drop the instrument. Her mother would kill her.

A soft clicking filled the practice room from above. The large, white faced clock ticked off the seconds. This was one of the few rooms left in the school without a digital clock installed. It was deemed unnecessary for the band room to have anything modern. Soon, no music would be made in these brick walls again. Money was needed elsewhere in the school. Music had to go. Footballs needed to be purchased for the next season.

Kayla was ready to get this new rehearsal going. Her boyfriend was going to pick her up after this thing and she only hoped he would want some action. Being sixteen left her to the rules of peer pressure and hormones. And her seventeen year old boyfriend, well, he was purely a male.

With a soft slap, the wood of the two inch reed met the plastic of the mouthpiece. The clip screwed tight and the reed was in place. Her thin fingers danced quickly over the middle pieces of the finger holes. With a sigh, Kayla placed the mouth piece in her mouth, bottom lip secured over her bottom teeth.

The middle range C note rang through the room with a blast of controlled air. She kept her eyes fastened on the needle of the tuner. It proved her note had been flat. Another deep breath, another exhale. The corners of her lips pulled in slightly in an attempt to rectify the tone. The needle moved closer to being straight upward on the dial.

Sound came from behind her and Kayla turned on her folding chair. Several other band members were wafting slowing into the room. No one wanted to stay after school today for this. They were all ready for the concert even if the director didn't agree with them. Two of the girls waved before they made their way over to their saxophone cases.

Kayla turned back to her music stand and the tuner. A trumpet blast sounded so she waited to test her instrument again. Snaps and thuds from other instruments from other people. She could hear the door open again to allow more people into the room. Soon the director would arrive through the door to the right of the board in the front of the room.

It wasn't odd to hear sounds of metal and wood moving all around her. Kayla tried to block out all the disruptions and focus on her playing that one note in tune. Her director always made them go around the room before they begin to make sure they were all in tune. She always had trouble getting right into tune. The older teacher always singled her out during that time.

Not this time though. She would have her clarinet all warmed up and ready to go for the practice to begin in four minutes according to that clicking clock. Another solid note escaped the black wooden horn the settled down around her knees. The tuner needle was happier with this note. It only rested slightly to the left now. Kayla adjusted the wood and plastic in her mouth for another try.

Her teeth rested softly against the rubber padding on the top of the plastic mouth piece. Her cheeks pulled inward as her lips pinched. Kayla forced her back to straighten even more. A deep breath through the mouth and she blew a solid note. The needle was pointing straight up. There was no shifting. She let the note die with a smile.

The gun shot registered completely sharp.

TBC…let the show begin…