Disclaimer: I own nothing related to CSI: Miami and I've never met Flo Rida. Title and lyrics come from the song of the same name by Joy Division (For anyone born after 1990, Fall Out Boy did not write "Love Will Tear Us Apart", and they had no business covering it). Please go watch the movie "Control".
A/N: It is true that Flo Rida made his cell phone number public some time around April 6th, 2009. He wanted fans to call him before he played a gig at a Marlin's game. Not sure if it still works, you could Google his number and try I suppose, though we are talking about the guy that just recycles 80's tunes into pop rap.
And the Sham Wow guy did get into in an altercation with a hooker in Miami on February 7th, 2009. TMZ has all the details if you're interested, or a big fan of Billy Mays, RIP.
This has been kicking about for awhile (at least since the 8th of April 2009) but I wasn't sure it would fly, but hey there are lots of Christmas stories floating around fandom why not a Birkat Hachama story?
*Some of you who read my stuff will know I've been taking a brief hiatus since the news of Jon Togo's arrest. I've decided for now that writing stories about Ryan doesn't have to mean I'm cool with suspected felony domestic abuse charges as Togo is a real person and Ryan is fictional and thankfully Ryan has never been arrested for DV. If we all decided not to write because celebrities can be self- involved d-bags there'd be no fan-fiction at all, because there's a lot of self-involved d-bags in Hollyweird.
Chapter 1: Love Will Tear Us Apart
When the routine bites hard
and ambitions are low
And the resentment rides high
but emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways,
taking different roads
Then love, love will tear us apart
again
Monday April 6th, 2009, Miami Dade Crime Lab
The Break Room: 9:55am
David Benton loved music. He always had. His love was pure and indiscriminant. He wasn't one those people who told you, "Yeah I love music, well everything but country". Dave owned all of Willie Nelson's albums and he could even get behind Taylor Swift, if no one else was around. That love affair was between himself and his Ipod. He listened to rock, rap, techno, classical, jazz and anything else that made a noise. Aboriginal chanting lulled him into a peaceful sleep at night and Freddie Mercury blasted him awake in the morning.
Popular music had done a lot for Dave. It had given him a religion and a reason to never concede to cutting his hair. It also gave him something to talk about with anyone, at any time, in any place. He'd managed to do what no other tech in the lab could; have a long and in depth conversation with Travers the Brit in Trace. Travers tended to be extremely British and quiet, but once you got him on the topic of Joy Division look out. Travers' devotion to Ian Curtis was rivaled only be his devotion to science.
So, David Benton loved music. And, he made it his business to know what was going on in the scene, the pop culture of modern music, especially in Miami, his new home. This is why when Ryan Wolfe and Eric Delko found the A/V tech in the break room making coffee on a Monday morning in April he was practically shaking with excitement.
"Dudes, you'll never believe what I heard on the radio this morning!" Dave bellowed while stirring his coffee.
Ryan raised his eyebrows and reached for a mug from the cupboard. "Let me guess…they discovered some lost Led Zeppelin recordings?"
Eric gave a derisive snort and prepared his own coffee. "Queen is auditioning for singers and they happen to be particularly interested in hiring guys named Dave."
"No, but that would be awesome," Dave was used to the ribbing he got from his co-workers. Eric and Ryan were famous for their attempts to out do one another with what they thought were witty observations. "Check this out, Flo Rida gave out his private cell phone number and he wants the fans to just call him up."
"Really?" Ryan was intrigued.
"Bullshiff." Eric's response was muffled by the spoon in his mouth.
"No it's true," Dave sat down at the break table. "My friend Chuck, his girlfriend Marissa got through."
Ryan joined Dave at the table. "Yeah? What did she say when she got through?"
Dave spread his hands in a gesture of disbelief. "Nothing. She squealed and hung up." He shook his head. "Women."
"I didn't really peg you for a Flo Rida fan Dave," Eric said before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Hey, I am a man of varied tastes. I can get down, and Flo Rida is great club music. Plus, you can't knock a man that used to ride with 2 Live Crew."
"No way!" Ryan nearly spit his coffee out. "He was in 2 Live Crew?"
"Not in 2 Live Crew," Dave corrected. "He toured with 2 Live Crew back in the day."
Ryan smiled a distant smile as an old memory surfaced. "My mom grounded me for a month when she heard me and my friends listening to "Me So Horny"."
Dave burst out laughing. "That's harsh man! The only thing that song can be accused of is cheesy lyrics, having a video that screams 1991, and being awesome."
"I know," Ryan agreed. "But, my mom teaches Women's Studies, so you know the whole Asian girl moaning me so horny thing pissed her off. Well, that and the fact me and four other eleven year old Jewish boys were singing right along."
"Wow, Wolfe sometimes you're so cool I can't believe you hang out with us. Tell me again about the time you wore your Star Wars jammies to school." Eric said.
Ryan rolled his eyes. "I never wore them to school," his eyes widened in horror as he realized his comment had only confirmed he used to own Star Wars pajamas. "I mean-
"What you mean is you wore Star Wars pajamas." Eric cut him off with a smirk.
"Who didn't?" Dave asked with a puzzled look.
Eric raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you for real? Everyone that wasn't in the A/V Club Dave."
"Well," Dave took another sip of coffee. "I always pitied those fools anyways."
"Right on brother," Ryan said pumping his fist at Dave.
"Yeah it sucked getting laid before I was twenty-two," Eric shot back.
Ryan's eyes were now the size of dinner plates. "Delko! I told you that in the strictest of confidence!"
"No one mentioned your name Wolfe."
Dave looked back and forth between the two. "What am I missing here?"
Ryan gave Eric a murderous look. "Nothing." He said firmly.
"Right, okay, but back to the topic at hand. Who wants to call Flo rida?" Dave pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
"There's no way we'll get through," Eric reasoned, but he too was reaching for his cell.
"Okay, here's what we'll do," Ryan as always sought to infuse any situation with order. "Dave will call first, then me, then you Delko. If any of us get through we'll get the others on three way. Deal?"
"Done." Dave said as he pushed buttons. He listened to the phone ring, each time he hoped to hear Flo Rida answer, but he got the voice mail.
Yo, this is your boy Flo! Let me know what's good.
"Damn!" Dave hung up and indicated to Ryan.
"What's the number man?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry, brain fart," Dave rattled off the digits and Ryan started dialing.
But, it was voice mail all around, and after Eric's turn all three men threw their cell phones on the table dejectedly.
"Well, we'll just keep trying," Dave said reaching for his phone. "Oh, and before I forget, that last set of crime scene photos you uploaded Ryan…priceless, absolutely priceless."
Eric and Ryan both started to laugh. The case Dave was referring to had been a source of amusement in the lab for the last two months.
Eric wiped his eyes. "You know, I've given up trying to predict my day with this job, but the Vince Sham Wow case, it's a little bit of awesome."
"I know," Ryan grinned at his partner in this case. "Everyone's totally jealous that we pulled the Vince Sham Wow trick roll."
Dave snickered. "I've got to ask, have you put an A.P.B. out on Billy Mays, because I think this was a set up."
Laughter filled the room again and Ryan struggled to get his next sentence out. "Tell him, tell him," He pawed at Eric's shoulder. "Tell him what you said to Vince Sham Wow when you were collecting his clothes."
Eric's response was to laugh harder, but he got it under control. "Alright so I'm collecting his clothes for blood evidence right," Dave nodded his head encouraging Eric to continue. "And, the guy starts complaining that his new designer shirt is covered in blood. So, I look at him and I say, "Yeah well, get Oxy-clean and get the stains out".
"Dude turned red," Ryan said between snickers. "I was holding myself back from just rushing up behind and Eric and yelling 'Kaboom'!" He threw is arms in the air for emphasis.
"He was pretty pissed alright," Eric conceded. "I figured it wouldn't go over well if I told him if he called within the next ten minutes we'd do not one, but two DNA swabs."
All three men erupted in giggles the likes of which are usually only heard from school girls.
The DNA Lab: 10:10 am
Maxine Valera could hear laughter and booming voices coming from the break room. She could tell one of the merry makers was Ryan. Hell, the whole building could probably tell that Eric, Dave and Ryan were having a good time. Valera slammed her pipette down on the table in front of her, How dare he, was the only thought she could keep in her mind. How dare Ryan sit there with his friends and act like everything was fine- that there was something to laugh about. How could he act like his-and Valera's-world hadn't been rocked upside down in the last few months? He was cracking jokes and acting natural, while she spent her work days walking on egg shells dreading that someone would discover their secret, or rather, secrets.
She understood why they had to keep their relationship under wraps. Fraternization was strictly forbidden under Stetler's new rules, and if anyone found out they'd be put on separate shifts, and given a two week suspension each for not notifying their superiors sooner. On days like this Valera wanted track down the Russian mobsters who kidnapped Billy Gantry and gave Ryan the beating of a life time. She needed someone to blame for her current situation, and like many people, in her pettiest moments she chose to blame foreigners first. Ryan had been gearing himself up to confess everything about their relationship to Horatio, and take the night shift like a man if it came to that. But, once he realized Ivan Sarnoff was out to splinter the team he refused to be the first fracture. Valera understood the sentiment, she really did, but it got them no further ahead in solving their shared predicament.
Of course, the Russians had nothing to do with Valera chucking her birth control bills in the garbage several months ago in favor of condoms only. That was all her, and Dr. Craig Roberts at Newcastle University. Dr. Roberts just had to go and discover that the pill messes with a woman's ability to scent a genetically compatible mate. Valera hadn't even started dating Ryan when she made the decision to rely on condoms only from now on, but she liked to think the silver lining in all of it was that she'd finally sniffed him out.
So really, there were the Russians, a team of British scientists, herself, Ryan and whoever made the faulty condom they'd used three months ago to blame. Naming the guilty parties changed nothing however, and the end result was always the same. She was the one who got pregnant three months go, just eight weeks into their relationship and had to break the news to Ryan. She was the one watching him carry on his days at work as if nothing was amiss. As if she wasn't literally carrying around a secret that would not only get them in trouble at work, but was going to be pretty obvious to the naked eye in a few months.
Hiding their relationship was one thing, but hiding a baby was impossible. Still, the idea of termination hadn't crossed Valera's mind. Well, it had, but she'd quickly dismissed it. She was thirty- two years old and gainfully employed, not nineteen and trying to make it through college. She was pro-choice, but she was also fully capable of caring for a baby at this stage in her life. The decision to keep the baby was her only constant, and the one thing she was sure of these days. Everything else-Ryan's commitment to their relationship, how they would deal with work, whether or not Eric and Calleigh were sleeping together, what she'd eat for lunch- was up for debate, and her opinion on it all changed hourly.
She was fairly certain Ryan was on the same page as her. He hadn't run screaming from the room when she'd told him she was pregnant, but he had looked distressed. She could see it written all over his face, and she could practically hear his mind screaming that this was the last thing they needed. A baby was just one more complication to add to his gambling debts, the tense and distrustful air at the lab and the constant feeling they had that someone was watching them all, just waiting for the right moment to attack. Not to mention that having a baby together after such a short courtship amounted to skipping several key steps in the recipe for happily ever after.
Still, he'd taken it in stride until the day the tire blew out on the Hummer and Ivan's cronies caught up with him. He didn't come home to her apartment that night and she had been worried sick. When she saw him the next day at work, showered, dressed in a clean suit and yet somehow missing a tooth she'd been angry. Why would he spend the night at his place without her when he'd hardly been inside the door of his apartment since she told him about the baby? When he finally confessed to them all what had happened she had to control herself in front of the team when all she wanted to do was cling to him, and maybe vomit.
For days afterward he'd been crazed with worry about her, the baby, his job and whether or not the team would forgive him. Things between them had very nearly come to a screeching halt when he'd suggested that maybe, maybe she should consider her options; because he wasn't sure he could keep her, or their child, safe from the people that wished him harm. First, she'd raged at him, then she called his bluff by calmly dialing the clinic and asking for an appointment right in front of him. When the nurse put her on hold Valera decided to add insult to injury and told Ryan that he was probably right, them having a baby was a bad idea, in fact their relationship was a bad idea full stop. She'd watched the color drain from his face only to replaced with obvious pain and anguish. Seconds later he had wrestled the phone from her with a quickness she'd never thought him capable of, and was holding her close promising her anything and everything. Valera knew it her methods were slightly underhanded, but Ryan was not innocent either, and as he rocked her back in forth she couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.
So, she knew he at least wanted the child, or wouldn't sit idly by and allow any harm to come to it. But, she didn't know just what his real feelings were in regards to her and their relationship. They shared her apartment and spent every night together, but at work during the days, she was just another colleague. Horatio had restored Ryan's standing with his teammates by forgiving him for his actions during Billy's kidnapping, but the older man was still only working with only half the story. H didn't know about Ryan and Valera, and he certainly didn't know that while Ryan was tied to that chair his thoughts were focused not just on Billy, but also ensuring no one, especially the man torturing him would find out just how much he had to lose. They could do whatever they wanted with him, but Ryan wouldn't let the darkness is his world touch Valera and their unborn child.
Eric had moved into a motel to distance his family and friends from what he considered to be his marked life. After spending a night with Ivan's goons Ryan understood why his friend had gone to such lengths to protect what was his, and Eric didn't even have a pregnant girlfriend. Valera suspected that fear of reprisal from Ivan and his men had a lot to do with Ryan's non disclosure policy on their situation. And, she shared his fear, but they couldn't continue on as if nothing was happening. Truth be told, she was getting tired of constantly deceiving the people she cared about, and her patience was wearing thin.
Her own mother still didn't know she was pregnant. Ryan's parents had no clue either. Valera's doctor and Travers from Trace were the only people outside their relationship who knew how things were. Her doctor was bound to silence by patient-doctor confidentiality, and Valera had sworn Travers to secrecy after he's confronted her with his "discovery".
"Who the fuck does he think he is?" Valera cursed Travers under her breath. "Fucking Sherlock Holmes?"
She'd been processing evidence as usual the week before when Travers had appeared in her lab. He'd stood there with a folder in hand and a worried look on his face. She was used to Travers looking worried, the man worried about everything, it was his fidgeting that clued her in to the fact there was something particularly troubling on his mind.
"What do you want Travers?" she asked in a monotone voice.
Travis cleared his throat and pulled on his collar. "Miss Valera," he immediately corrected himself after catching the look on her face. "I mean, er, Maxine, may I, that is to say…may I ask you a personal question?"
Valera dropped her work and studied him. Normally she would have given Travers an enthusiastic yes to his question. She and Dave had been trying to draw the man out of his shell since he'd started at the lab. But, current events had made her wary about any inquiry into her personal life. Still, she figured Travers was harmless.
"Sure, go ahead." She pushed her hair back in place and waited for his question.
The folder in Travers' hand began to shake as he built up his courage to proceed. "Well, I wanted to know if, well I think you should know, before I ask you what I need to ask, that this is not just coming out of the blue. I've been making observations lately, and well, I just, well, are you pregnant?"
Maxine just stared at him. That wily bastard, it was always the quiet ones. "Pregnant!" She made a give- me- a- break- face. "Why would you think that?"
Travers wasn't buying it. "Well, you've been distracted for quite some time now. Your work, while still excellent is by no means as prolific as before. You've cut down on the amount of hours you spend in lab, and you are always disappearing for appointments. Appointments, which I've come to conclude, are in fact doctor's appointments."
Valera crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "And why may I ask would you assume I'm pregnant? Maybe I have cancer, or a dying relative."
"Oh, I considered that," Travers' face became animated. "However, one must go with what the evidence suggests, and my deductions tell me I'm very nearly correct in my suspicions."
"Only very nearly correct hey?" Valera wasn't sure what her snide remark was supposed to accomplish, but it was her only defense.
"Yes, well, I believe I am correct about your being pregnant, it's my other theory I am unsure of, but I'll come to that. As I said, the change in your work habits was my first clue something was amiss." Travers paused for a few moments and wiped his brow. "Then, I noticed that at our weekly get together, what you all so fondly refer to as "Techie Hump Day", you no longer partake in the alcohol. At first you avoided alcohol all together, quite a change in behavior mind you. Then, as if you were afraid such actions would draw unwanted attention you began ordering virgin cocktails, and pretending they were alcoholic."
Valera decided to try and fake Travers out. "They weren't virgin Michael. I had, like five Caesars last Wednesday, and trust me I felt them in the morning."
"Well, yes you did- or rather-you appeared to," Travers was now holding the file in both hands behind his back, and rocking back and forth on his heels. He seemed much more confident and assured now that he'd begun to explain his deductions. Valera's thoughts again drifted towards the world's greatest consulting detective, and she wondered if Travers owned a deer stalker hat. "But, I doubt very much one could get a hangover from tomato juice." He pronounced the word in the British vernacular, toe-mat-toe.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Travers took a few steps closer to her. "It was my turn to pick up the tab last week Maxine. You didn't have Caesars. You had tomato juice, made fancy, according to the bill."
"Fancy means loaded with alcohol here in America. Like really, a lot of alcohol." Valera backed away from him and went back to her microscope.
Travers simply raised an eye brow. "Maxine, nothing in Miami that contains alcohol costs $4.00 a drink. The waitress confirmed it for me when I paid the bill."
"Fine, Travers, you got me," Valera tried to look confessional. "I gave up booze for Lent okay? I didn't say anything because science and God don't usually mix and I don't want to get into any deep philosophical discussions at work."
"Another plausible explanation," Travers allowed, "If it weren't for my other observations."
"Like what Sherlock?"
"You've also started packing a healthy lunch and eating it everyday instead of subsisting on coffee and Twinkies. In fact you've given up coffee altogether." Travers was ticking things off with his fingers as he went. "You see, I noticed when I started here that Ryan Wolfe brought you coffee every morning. At first I thought it was just a friendly gesture from one co-worker to another, but I have not witnessed him doing the same for anyone else here. His actions suggested some kind of special attachment to you. Otherwise why not bring coffee to everyone? Then, suddenly, about three months ago, around the same time you started displaying these new behaviors Mr. Wolfe stopped bringing you coffee. He did not stop coming to see you every morning however. In fact, I'd say his trips to your lab have doubled in frequency. So, I asked myself what makes a woman give up alcohol and coffee while requiring that she take many trips to the doctor? Naturally, I concluded you were pregnant."
Maxine tried to hide her astonishment at his discovery. "You sound more than very nearly sure of yourself Travers."
Now Travers looked astonished. "Oh, well, I'm sure you are pregnant. The part I'm only very nearly sure about is Ryan's involvement. His obvious concern for your well-being lent credence to my hypothesis about your being pregnant. Such a thing tends to bring out the protective nature in a man. However, given that you don't seem to want anyone to know about your condition I wondered why him, why does he know? My secondary hypothesis then, the one I am least sure of, is that Ryan is the child's father."
Valera considered lying to him. Or telling him a half truth, yes I'm pregnant, no it isn't Ryan's. But, she couldn't. It was pointless anyway. Travers was clearly convinced she was with child, and in a matter of weeks she wouldn't be able to deny it any longer. She'd look like a fool if she told him he was wrong, when he was only going to find out how right he was in the end.
So, she'd let him in on the secret. Then she'd dragged him to deserted corner of the lab so she could cry and unload on him. If he was going to know the truth he had to share her burden. She told him about their predicament with work, about how they had to keep everything secret to keep them both on the day shift. She told him how upset she was that she had to hide something she considered joyful from the world. She told him how angry it made her that Ryan had yet to tell his family about her or the baby. How it made her feel like he wasn't quite accepting the situation, as if it wouldn't be real if he pretended it wasn't happening.
Travers had put an awkward yet comforting, arm around her and voiced his opinion. "Well, you'd think he could be a bloody gentleman about it. Work is one thing, but family? If I could I'd give him a piece of my mind-well it'd be quite the tongue lashing I'll tell you that."
Valera sniffled a little and smiled at the mention of tongue lashings. "It's not as bad as I'm making it sound. I mean, really most women don't tell people about their pregnancy till around now. Three months to be sure you know? So you don't have to deal with the pitying looks if something goes wrong."
"Yes, well, quite right then."
"So you really figured all this out just because I got a little slow at work and Ryan stopped bringing me coffee?" Valera peered at Travers from under her bangs. "I mean jeez Travers they should have you on every case."
A faint blush spread across Travers' cheeks. "Well, thank you, but I like to think being observant is our job as scientists. I'm no different that any of you really. And, it wasn't your absenteeism or the coffee that initially tipped me off."
Valera made a puzzled face. "Than what was it?"
"Well, I probably would have never noticed at all if it hadn't been for Ms. Boa Vista." He confessed.
"Jesus, are you saying Natalia knows too?" Panic spread through Valera like wildfire.
"No, no, not at all," Travers placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It just happened that I was leaving the building one afternoon for some air and I ran into Natalia." He seemed to struggle over the use of Natalia's Christian name. "It was a few months ago when this baby killer case began. I assume you know the case I speak of?"
"How could I not?" Valera wrapped her arms around herself.
Natalia had been grumbling about her ongoing status as a level one CSI and demanded Horatio give her steps to take in order to progress. Horatio for his part had been surprised that Natalia felt neglected and had eagerly conceded to her demands, but with a price. Horatio had given her an incredibly difficult case, a serial who murdered infants. It would be a career making case for Natalia, but only if she survived it. Valera believed that was Horatio's intent was to ensure Natalia understood great power comes with great responsibility.
"I have nightmares about the killer coming for me and the baby." Valera admitted.
"Yes, well, it has affected us all," Travers took her hand before continuing. "I decided to deal with my emo-, well, the case by going for a walk when it all became too much. I didn't want to be questioned about my actions so I went out through one of the less used exits, the one next to the South parking lot."
Valera's eyes widened at the mention of the South parking lot. She had more than a good idea about where this story was going, especially if it included Natalia. The South parking lot was the furthest away from the lab, and it forced you to walk an extra ten minutes in the morning to get to work. Most of the lab employees avoided it for this reason. It also bordered a particularly thick grove of palm trees. This meant if you had something you needed to do outside, that you preferred to keep hidden, that was the place to go.
"You can imagine my surprise when I happened upon Natalia and found her," Travers paused and let out a disappointed sigh. "Smoking."
"Well, too be fair Michael she is principle on that case and it's a tough one, and really she only smokes sporadically. Like, really sporadically, things have to get pretty bad." Valera was quick to defend her friend and fellow DNA tech.
"Yes, and you would know wouldn't you?" Travers looked her in the eye before continuing. "Once Natalia recovered from the shock of being found out she swore me to secrecy, and then, like most people who know they are guilty of doing something they shouldn't she began to try and justify her actions. Her defense rested on the stress, the case, and the fact that she was not the only one who indulged in the practice. She told me you had recently stopped joining her outside when things got- too tough- as you put it. In fact, she seemed quite agitated that you had offered no explanation as to why. At first I assumed you had simply turned over a new, healthy leaf, until the doctor's appointments began."
"For the record my trips outside were just as sporadic as hers," Valera said defensively. "And, can I say you seem a little too disappointed over the fact you found out Natalia has the occasional cigarette when she can't deal with baby killers and rapists anymore."
Travers was the picture of mortification. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean!"
Valera smirked. She could be a pretty good detective to when the mood struck her. "Right, and that's why you nearly choke when you say her name. Na-Na-Na-Natalia."
"Do you want me to keep your secret or not?" Travers pinned her with a look of mock seriousness.
"Yes please," Valera wrapped her arms around him again. "I beg you please, with a cherry on top."
"Then you have to keep mine," Travers said returning her embrace. "Is that-as you Americans say-a deal?"
Valera was so tickled by the idea of Travers having a crush on Natalia that she forgot herself and spit into her hand. "Deal," she said and offered him the soiled palm to shake.
Travers pulled as far away from her as he could. "Er, yes, um," she watched as he pulled a glove from his lab coat pocket and put it on. Only then did he take her hand. "Deal."
Valera's trip down memory lane was interrupted by the alarm going off on her watch. She glanced down at it and sighed. She had ten minutes to be at her latest doctor's appointment. Travers wasn't wrong about her work ethic-or lack thereof-so far she'd managed to do nothing but stand in the lab and stew in her own anger all morning. Now she had to leave, and she wasn't really sure if she'd come back for the afternoon. Horatio knew she was leaving for medical reasons, he just didn't know the nature of those reasons. She'd just call in sick after her appointment. She couldn't face the lab, or the people in it when she felt this out of control and angry.
The Break Room: 10:20 am
"Alright," Eric tossed his coffee cup in the sink. "As fun as this has been Dave, Ryan and I have to revisit a crime scene for Horatio. He interrogated the suspect yesterday and something the guy said made H think there's something back there we missed the first time." He turned to Ryan. "You ready?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," Ryan replied just as an alarm started sounding on his watch. He mentally cursed himself. He'd forgotten about Valera's appointment. He'd told her he'd try and find a way to sneak away and meet her there. That was impossible now. "Um, Eric, I'm just gonna need to stop by DNA first."
"Why?" Eric asked. There was nothing connected to their latest case processing in DNA at the moment.
"Uh, because Valera might have some results for me?" Ryan hoped Eric bought his excuse.
But you can't fool a CSI that easily. "Results from what? What other case are you working on?"
Ryan thought hard and he thought fast. "Well, it's not for me per say, it's for Natalia. You know something to do with the baby killer case she's working on. She's just flat out on that, and it's really starting to get to her. So I asked her, you know, if I could do anything to help. Nat asked me to stop by DNA and check in with Max, I mean Valera, to see if anything new had come up."
"Oh," Eric paused and Ryan sweated it out. "Okay, well you do that. I'll be in Hummer waiting."
"Well, I wish you both luck," Dave had watched the whole exchange from a distance and noticed Ryan's unease. "And Ryan? That's a nice thing you're doing for Natalia."
Ryan didn't meet Dave's eyes. "Uh, yeah, thanks, it's nothing."
Dave just raised his eyebrows. "Later."
Ryan watched him leave. "Yeah, later."
"Hey Dave! Hold on a minute!" Eric called the A/V tech back.
"Yeah?" Dave's head appeared in the doorway again.
Eric lifted his cell phone to his ear. "Flo Rida, don't forget."
Dave pulled a face. "Who do you think you're talking to man? I'm on it."
Eric laughed. "Good stuff." He turned back to Ryan. "Okay Wolfe I'm gone. Try to be quick at DNA alright? I don't want to keep H waiting."
"No problem, I'll be five minutes, tops." Ryan said and watched as Eric left the room.
He knew he should get up immediately and go to see Valera, but he wasn't ready to leave his chair just yet. She was going to be pissed, he had yet to make it to one of her doctor's appointments and while he felt like shit about that he couldn't leave work without a reasonable explanation. Not when he was under specific orders from Horatio to be at a crime scene. It was now or never, he supposed as he reluctantly heaved himself out of the chair before leaving the break room.
The DNA Lab 10:30 am
"Hey."
Valera stopped shoving things in her purse and turned to see Ryan standing next to her desk. "Hey yourself," she replied straightening her hair. "What are you doing here?"
He indicated to his watch. "We synched them remember? The appointment."
A smile broke across Valera's face. "So you're going to come then?" She felt her heart buoy up after the morning's trials. He really was trying. She was just being hormonal. "And, coming to see me beforehand too. Jeez Ryan, next you'll tell me we're actually going to walk out of the building together and take the same car to the doctor's."
It killed him to have to send her alone. "Actually Max, about that," Her face immediately darkened and he rushed to explain. "Horatio wants me and Eric at that crime scene from yesterday over in the Groves. I can't not show up Max, I just can't."
She knew he was right, but she didn't care. If it wasn't for his misgivings they wouldn't be having this conversation. "Fine. You know what Ryan? It's fine." She tore her lab coat off and reached for her purse before trying to push past him.
"Maxine!" He looked around and made the risky decision to reach for her despite the fact they were in a glass room at work. He took her wrist. "Maxine you know I want to be there."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "I have to go or I'll be late." She pulled her arm out of his grasp. "My next appointment is in another month's time. It's a sonogram, the sonogram, we'll know if it's a boy or a girl. It'd be nice if you could make it." With those parting words she left the lab and didn't look back.
Why is the bedroom so cold
Turned away on your side?
Is my timing that flawed,
our respect run so dry?
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through
our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again
The Parking Lot: 10:35 am
"Did you see the way Valera peeled out of the parking lot?" Eric asked Ryan in disbelief as the younger man climbed into the passenger seat of the Hummer.
"No," Ryan said shutting his door. "But I heard it."
"What the hell?" Eric threw his hands up. "Did she seem upset when you went to see her?"
Ryan put on his sun glasses to shield his eyes from Eric's questioning gaze. "She, uh, she actually wasn't there when I stopped by. Guess she has somewhere to be."
"Yeah but," Eric shook his head. "She just took off. I mean who's gonna process her stuff? Nat's swamped."
"I'm sure she cleared it with H first," Ryan felt like he was going snap at any minute and tell the truth to save Valera's reputation if Eric didn't stop talking.
"Yeah, you're right. It's just strange you know," Eric turned his body to face the rear view window and maneuvered the Hummer out of its parking spot. "Well, lets get this show on the road before H comes looking for us."
Valera's Apartment 12:26 pm
Valera slammed her front door shut and gave it an extra kick just for good measure. She'd had to contain her anger over Ryan's abandonment from her doctor and the general public in his waiting room. Now she was ready to let go by stomping around her apartment and slamming things about. Her purse went down with a smack-after it had sailed across the room and hit a wall. Her shoes went next following the same trajectory as the hand bag. Maxine paused briefly at the thought of her neighbors and whether or not they could hear her belongings impacting against the wall. She shrugged it off and whipped her car keys at the end table by her couch. They smacked against the cordless phone and knocked it off its stand. Only then did she notice the blinking light on the phone's base. So, she had a message. It was probably from Ryan. She could only imagine what apologies and excuses would be waiting for her on the other end.
Valera punched the button that opened her voice mail with vigor and started to pace her living room. If he thought there was anything he could say that would make her forgive him, well he had better think again.
Suddenly a voice boomed out into her living room and it was not Ryan's. Whoever had left the message was male, elderly and clearly unable to understand how voice recording worked, because they were yelling.
Hello? Hello? I don't know if this is the right number. My name is Ronald Mintz and I'm looking for Ryan Wolfe. Ryan? It's your Uncle Ron. I've tried all three numbers you gave me. Three numbers! Who has three numbers? Please call me. We have to discuss Seder. Are you coming to the Horowitz's? You never made it last year, busy, busy, busy, always busy. You know this year is important. There's very little time left. Please call me. I'm hanging up now.
Valera pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at it. Ronald Mintz? Who the fuck was Ronald Mintz and why was he looking for Ryan? The message began to replay automatically and her angry haze broke long enough for her to understand the caller's motivations. It was Ryan's uncle. Uncle Ron. He obviously needed to get a hold of Ryan for something important-Seder dinner. Valera racked her limited knowledge of Judaism to try and remember what Seder was. She assumed it would have to be something religious. Ryan had told her his mother's family was Orthodox. Apparently, it had caused some commotion when Ryan's mother decided to marry his very secular father. Whatever scandal that had been created by the courtship didn't seem to affect the family's working ability. From what Valera could tell both sides of Ryan's limited extended family regularly interacted with one another, and her boyfriend always made time for his elderly uncle. Though, Ryan did complain about how often his uncle exploited their "together time" for religious purposes.
Valera was torn. Clearly, Uncle Ron needed to get in contact with Ryan. In order for Ryan to know this she would most likely have to pass on the message. There was no way to be sure Uncle Ron had left three messages at all three numbers. Three numbers? What the hell was Ryan doing with three numbers? At first Valera was suspicious. Then she relaxed and thought logically. Ryan had probably given Uncle Ron the three numbers he could most often be reached at-his cell phone, his landline and Valera's place. It was little wonder the poor man couldn't find his nephew. Valera knew Ryan screened his cell phone calls from family ("It keeps them in line babe, you have no idea how present a Jewish mother will be otherwise"). And, he was never at his own home anymore-unless he was getting beaten up by Russian mobsters. Valera sighed and tried to come up with a way to relay Uncle Ron's message to Ryan without actually having to speak to her boyfriend. She was too mad at him to speak face to face. She was fairly certain even the sound of his voice would make her incandescent with rage.
She settled on sighing heavily and checking the stored numbers on her phone. When Uncle Ron's was displayed she hit dial and put the phone to her ear. It rang for so long that Valera was about to give up when she heard the line click and a heavily accented, "Hello".
"Um, hi, Uncle Ron? I mean, is this Ronald Mintz?" Valera wasn't really sure how to address the Uncle of your unborn child's father when you'd never actually been introduced to the aforementioned uncle, nor was he aware you were pregnant. She resisted the urge to blurt something out about the baby.
"Heeelooo? Yes? This is Ronald Mintz? Who is this?" There were still traces of Poland in Uncle Ron's voice.
"Oh, um, Mr. Mintz, my name is Maxine Valera. And, you left a message for Ryan Wolfe, your nephew, on my phone," Valera suspected she sounded ridiculous, after all Uncle Ron obviously knew who Ryan was, but she proceeded anyway. "I'm Ryan's girlfriend. Maxine Valera-I already said that-um-
Uncle Ron saved Valera from her rambling. "So, the Little King has a lady friend does he? Eh?"
"Um, who has a lady friend?" Valera asked.
Uncle Ron simply laughed. "You don't know what his name means eh? I don't get it either frankly. When he's born I say to his mother, name him one of the old names, one of the lost names. And what does she do? She gives him some Irish name because she likes the sound of it. Now his sister, Rachel, that's a nice name, an old name, my sister, who we lost, that was her name. Rachel. I ask Esther what meaning to us does a name like Ryan have? And you know what she says? She says it means Little King and he is, her little king, that is."
Valera rubbed her forehead in confusion. She knew Esther was Ryan's mother and she'd been introduced, at least telephonetically, to Ryan's sister Rachel, but Uncle Ron's words were still confusing.
"So, what is it you want Little King's lady friend?"
Valera was surprised enough to laugh out loud. "Wait. You call Ryan the Little King?" she asked between barks of laughter.
She could almost hear Uncle Ron shrug through the phone. "Well, that is his name. Ryan, the Little King. That's what it means. Names and their meanings are important bubbaleh."
Valera absentmindedly ran a hand over her mid section and wondered what her baby would be named. She mentally slapped herself and got back to the issue at hand. "Names are important all right, that they are. Any how Mr. Mintz I just wanted to say that you should probably try Ryan on his cell phone, because he's not here right now, and I'm not expecting him to be here until," Valera tried to figure just when she wanted to see Ryan next, "well, not anytime soon."
"So maybe there's trouble between you two, hmmm?" Uncle Ron observed.
"What?" Valera wanted to scream. How had her life come to this? The last thing she wanted to do was explain the entire situation that was her relationship with Ryan to a perfect stranger. Even if that stranger was Ryan's flesh and blood. "No, no, there's no trouble. Ryan's just w-w-working, and it's going to be a long shift and he won't be home, I mean here, at my apartment, so you should call his cell if it's important."
"If it's important?" Uncle Ron cried incredulously. "Bubbaleh it's Peysekh and Birkat Hachama. It doesn't get much more important. What am I saying? You date my nephew. I suppose anything is more important than turning up to Seder dinner."
Valera knew it was time to come clean. "Mr. Mintz, I'm really sorry, but your nephew's dating what I think you call a goy," Valera prayed that she hadn't just accidentally cursed or used a derogatory term. "I'm not Jewish. I have no idea what you're talking about."
"It's Passover bubbaleh. Well, it will be in two days. You've heard of that, yes?" To Valera's relief Uncle Ron didn't sound insulted. In fact, he sounded pretty amused.
"Yes I have," Valera replied. "And, I promise I'll make sure Ryan knows you want to speak to him about-well, what do you want to talk to him about-Passover?"
Now it was Uncle Ron's turn to laugh out loud. "Seder dinner bubbaleh. He'll know what you mean. The Horowitz's. I go to the Horowitz's every year since my Freda died and I came to Miami. Ryan has been once bubbaleh. Once! In five years! The last time he came he was a student. I ask you, is that any way to treat family?"
On an ordinary day Valera might have sided with Ryan. She and Ryan weren't particularly religious, and her own family was so chaotic she could think of nothing worse than having to spend her holidays with them. But, now she was pregnant, and Ryan wasn't just ducking his responsibilities to Uncle Ron, he was making a poor effort with her and the baby too.
"You know what Mr. Mintz? That's no way to treat your family! Ryan needs to learn that he can't just go and come whenever he likes, especially not with family matters. I'll make sure he calls you! I promise!" The words were out of Valera's mouth before she had time to think about what they meant. Promising Uncle Ron she'd make Ryan call also meant she'd promised to speak to her boyfriend. Damn. Well, she could text him in a belligerent manner;
Dear Jackass ur Uncle Ron called 4 u re: Seder. Call him back asap! PS. Fuck you! :(
"Thank you bubbaleh," Valera was distracted from mentally composing scathing texts to Ryan by the sound of Uncle Ron's voice. "In the meantime I'll keep calling his cell. Young people today, busy, busy, busy, always busy."
Valera said her good byes to Uncle Ron and then flung the phone down. If she was pissed with Ryan before she was beyond angry now.
As the afternoon wore on Valera found it harder and harder to maintain her furious state. Fatigue and hunger pangs were replacing all her emotions and she finally gave into her cravings and ate a huge lunch before retiring to her bedroom for a nap. The first trimester was kicking her ass and she found it increasingly hard these days to go for more than four hours without a nap. It was making working in a crime lab very difficult. Truth be told, the pregnancy was making everything difficult and having to shoulder all the burden herself was getting old. Valera lay down and decided that she and Ryan were having a long talk whenever he got home.
She was sick and tired of hiding their relationship and now her pregnancy. The stress of it all was like a dead weight pressing on her chest, and it couldn't be good for the baby or her sanity. She understood Ryan's fears; the Russians, the possibility of losing his place on the team, impending fatherhood, dirt, germs, things out of order, non-alphabetized files, small dogs and Scientologists-and the list went on. She'd come to terms with the fact she'd fallen in love with an anxious man who could fixate on the one hair he'd seen in the shower that morning for the rest of the day, but right now she needed some support. She was afraid, and things that scared her couldn't be cleaned up with Lysol or an organized filing system. She needed her colleagues and loved ones to know about the baby. If Horatio didn't get an explanation for her increased absenteeism soon he would start to think she was just sloppy, and regressing into the bad habits that had got her suspended from the lab some years prior. Her mother and father deserved to know that they were going to be grandparents. Ditto for Ryan's folks. Hell, as far as Valera was concerned she deserved to be introduced to Ryan's family in some other capacity then, "Never mind who answered the phone Ma. What's up?"
Yes, they were going to have to have a talk. And, Ryan was going to call his Uncle Ron. If Valera had her way she, and their unborn child, would be attending Seder dinner and getting introduced to the family, or at least Uncle Ron. She didn't care how weird the food might be, or how much Ryan complained about having to attend a religious feast.
Valera rubbed her still flat belly and peered down at her hands. "You're getting introduced to the world, and we'd better get a mazel tov out of it, or else I'm gonna start breaking glassware myself." She shut her eyes and hoped that a nap would rejuvenate her enough for the fight ahead.
Do you cry out in your sleep
All my failings exposed?
Get a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
Is it something so good
Just can't function no more?
When love, love will tear us apart
again.
TBC…