A/N: I own nothing. Not the quote; or the characters, or anything else you recognize.
To be a successful father there's one absolute rule: when you have a kid, don't look at it for the first two years.
-Ernest Hemmingway
Under normal circumstances, there would have been no way Ryan Wolfe would have given in to Eric Delko. There was simply no way it would have happened. However, when Eric had turned up on Ryan's doorstep, holding his two-year-old, with tired eyes, a defeated posture, and badly in need of a shave, Ryan felt like he really couldn't say no.
Eva Isabella Delko looked up at Ryan with huge green eyes, and really, how bad could a one-year-old be? And only for a couple hours! He internally laughed at Eric's incompetence as a parent. Really, he asked himself again, Any child of Calleigh's can't be that bad.
But Eric had hurriedly explained that he just needed a couple hours, and he should be back by five, and he'd owe him one, so Ryan accepted. Eric grinned gratefully and passed Eva off to Ryan.
"I'll be right back." He jogged off to his car and started pulling stuff from the back seat. A lot of stuff. In fact, it was downright phenomenal how much stuff he managed to cram into that car. A playpen came out first, followed by a diaper bag, followed by another diaper bag, followed by an armful of plush toys, followed by a fold-up stroller. Ryan just stood there, dumbfounded, holding the baby, wondering what the hell he had managed to get himself into.
Eric came sauntering up the driveway of Ryan's condo like it was perfectly normal to carry enough baby supplies for three weeks. In fact, the guy didn't look inconvenienced in any way. Fatherhood must have had some weird effect on him. That or the fact that he hauled that much stuff on a regular basis. Ryan wondered if he ought to haul that much stuff around. Surely he would have muscles as large as Eric's'. Bigger. He told himself, his male competitiveness kicking into full gear, I would have bigger muscles than Eric.
"What the hell is all that for?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
"For you, Wolfe." Eric said sarcastically. "Want a stuffed rabbit?"
"Shut up. I'm watching your baby for you."
"Yes, and I'm greatly appreciative for that." He dropped the stuff on Ryan's doorstep and pivoted on his heel. "You two have fun."
"Okay." He said nervously. Eva started to cry, stretching her arms out in the direction Eric had left in. "What time are you going to be back?" He called out, but Eric had already peeled out of the driveway at an alarming speed.
Eva tossed her head back and cried, screaming at the top of her lungs, her dark skin turning an alarming shade of purple, tears leaking out of her large eyes.
Ryan's own eyes were the size of baseballs, alarmed at the infant's crying. He sat her down on the stairs, trying to figure out what was wrong. Was she upset that Eric had left?
"Papi!" She screeched out, which was proceeded by more weeping.
Ryan, with his limited knowledge of Spanish, and the fact that he was panicking, had no idea what the hell 'Papi' was. Was it that dumb dolphin? Perhaps the rabbit? A television program of some sort? The play pen? The logical part of his mind reminded him that no two year old would be asking for their play pen.
He hurried to the front door and grabbed the dolphin and the rabbit.
He handed her the dolphin and she tossed it to the ground.
He then passed her the rabbit, which joined its fallen comrade on the floor. Being the idiot that he was, he decided to try the rabbit again. He picked it up off the floor, but with an alarming strength for a small child, she slapped it out of his hand.
"No gazapo!" She wailed.
He sighed.
She was going to cry forever. It was never going to stop. He was going to be an old man with ten cats and a ride-on lawn mower for recreational purposes, and she was still going to be wailing on his stairs.
Green snot was running down her face and he sighed, carried all the stuff off the porch and into his living room, and preceded to the kitchen to fetch her a Kleenex. He had the Kleenex in hand when he realized his mistake.
He had left her alone.
He couldn't hear her anymore.
This was bad.
He could see his life flash before his eyes. He saw himself riding his bike down the street, at the tender age of five, then running into the mailman and going down hard. He saw himself walking up to Kimberly Lewis in seventh grade and being rejected because of his airplane sweater. Was it really his fault he wanted to be a pilot? He didn't think so. He saw himself being slaughtered by Eric after telling him he'd lost his daughter, and then Calleigh showing up and shooting him in numerous places, putting him out of his misery. Calleigh was so nice.
And then he heard it. Was it……Yes! It was squeaking! But where was the squeaking coming from? He walked upstairs, and the squeaking got louder, and he wondered to himself if the squeaking was even coming from Eva, and if it was, were two year olds capable of climbing stairs?
He turned the corner into his bedroom to find Eva jumping on his bed. But his bed didn't squeak. But her shoes did. Squeaky shoes. They got the kid squeaky shoes. This was clever. They acted as a sort of tracking device.
He watched her jump for a good five minutes. He couldn't believe she wasn't tired. He'd be tired.
"Eva." He called, but she didn't answer him. He tried her name a few more times, but gave up.
He needed reinforcements.
The obvious choice was Valera. They were sort-of friends, and she only lived a few blocks away- surely she would help him!
He called her, and, thankfully, she picked up after only two rings.
"Hey." He said in greeting.
"Hey, Ryan."
"I need a bit of a favor."
"What sort of favor?" She sounded suspicious.
"It's nothing sexual." He said, and it was quiet on the other end. He slapped his hand to his forehead. Had he really just said that? Why was he so paranoid around her? Had he totally creeped her out? He probably had. Now she was going to hang signs at the office proclaiming what a pervert he was, and how he wanted phone sex. Oh, knowing Valera, this would be water cooler gossip.
The awkward silence carried on.
He coughed a little. "I mean…….uh………"
"So, yeah! What was that favor? She asked, sounding a bit uncomfortable, and definitely like she was trying to compensate for his foolishness.
"I'm babysitting."
"And you want me to help." She said; much more of a statement than a question.
"No! Yeah. Sort of." He said, giving in.
"Who's kid did you get suckered into watching? Please tell me it's not Debbie from Trace's son. That kid is demonic. And I also refuse to watch Mike's kids. They killed my fish."
"They killed your fish?"
"Yeah. Who are you babysitting?"
"Eva."
There was silence on the line, then after a good ten seconds or so, her voice came back over.
"Eva? As in Eva Delko? As in Eric and Calleigh's daughter?"
"Uh….yeah."
Silence- again.
"Right. So……………have fun."
"Valera…………come on!"
"Ryan. I love Calleigh and Eric, and Eva's adorable, but she tends to get a bit….much."
"No, she's being good! I swear!"
"If she was being good, you wouldn't be calling me right now."
"Come on! I'll owe you a favor."
"Hmmmmmmmmmmm." Valera was clearly thinking it over.
Ryan crossed his fingers and hoped she'd help him.
A/N: Depending on reviews, I may write another chapter.