Back with more pointless fluff that will never happen. If any of you are seriously missing Adam Rodriguez you should watch Ugly Betty; he's absolutely hilarious and they're already developing his character (I don't want to give out spoilers, but it's really good!) Oh yeah, and pretend Eric still works at CSI. R&R!

"Delko, don't you think this show kind of goes against the whole spiritual aspect of Christmas?"

Ryan Wolfe adjusted himself on the blankets and pillows which were his makeshift bed. He was crashing at Eric and Calleigh's place while his house was being repaired from the water damage after the flash flood the previous morning. He hated Miami sometimes.

"Oh come on, man, haven't you seen this before?" Eric asked with shock. He rolled to his stomach on the couch, which was serving as his own bed; he had been officially kicked out by Calleigh at around midnight after a series of events from his part that had driven her to the breaking point. It had been the night of the annual CSI/lab tech Christmas party and it was decided that the celebration would be held at the Delko house (much to Calleigh's dismay). Generally Calleigh enjoyed entertaining, but it had been a long, hard day at work, and she wanted nothing more to crawl into bed with a good book after a hot bath. No such luck, however, for she was stuck with about ten people crowding her kitchen and living room for about four hours.

Ryan sighed uncomfortably, shifting yet again against the hard floor beneath him, even through three layers of blankets. "Of course I have, but don't you think that with all the crap you've put yourself through tonight that if she comes in and finds you watching this she just might completely lose it?" He moved to his back. "Eric, why can't I have the couch? I'm the guest, so I should be the most comfortable."

"Because, it's my house and I should be sleeping in my king-sized TempurPedic with my wife, but with no help from your ass I'm out here, so I get the couch."

"If Calleigh came in here she would make you give me the couch."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Wolfe. Besides, Calleigh's not here, so if you want to sleep in the just-painted guest room, go right ahead. Don't come complaining to me when you have a killer headache in the morning."

Just then a tiny voice sounded and effectively scared the two men out of their wits. "Daddy," little Alex Delko padded into the living room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Daddy, wha' you wachin'?"

Eric heart melted a bit, as it always did, at the sight of his four-year-old son, the spitting image of himself with lighter skin and green eyes. "Hey buddy," he said in a much quieter, gentler tone. Alex climbed onto the couch next to his father. "Why are you up so late? You're supposed to be in your bed."

Alex yawned adorably and nestled himself into Eric's chest. "I know, Daddy, buh I can' sleep." He clutched Eric's thin tank in his fist. "You and Uncle Ry talk too lou'."

Eric pressed a kiss into his son's thick dark brown hair. "I'm sorry Alex. You just go to sleep now with me. I promise Uncle Ryan and I will be quiet." He gave Ryan a look and Ryan shook his head with a smile, turning away from the TV onto his stomach. "Softie," he mumbled into a fake cough. Eric glared at the back of his head, rolling onto his side so Alex's back pressed against his chest.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex sighed and climbed onto his father's side. "No sleep, Daddy," he said. Eric, who was half already half asleep, moved to his back to better accommodate Alex, who lay face down on Eric's chest. "Watch TV," he mumbled sleepily, resting a hand on Alex's back, stroking softly in the hopes it would comfort him enough to sleep. The small hand playing with his five-day-old beard was strangely soothing, though, and before he realized it he was drifting to sleep.

***

The next morning Eric woke exactly as he had when he fell asleep, Alex resting atop him with his dark head tucked underneath Eric's chin. Eric groaned slightly at the crick in his neck and glanced first at his son, and then at Ryan, who was still sleeping soundly, as he had the day off. Eric, however, did not and reluctantly sat up as best he could without waking his sleeping son. Alex made a noise and clung to Eric as he carried him into his room and sat him down in his "big-boy" bed, before going upstairs to the master suite. He saw Calleigh still sleeping, and figured it would be alright for him to get in the shower as she only had about three minutes until the alarm went off. That would allow enough time for him to shower and get dressed and for her to eat breakfast and tend to Alex if need be.

Eric took a little longer than normal in the shower, trying to work out the knots in his back and neck, before he got dressed and went into the kitchen for breakfast.

When he arrived he was surprised to see Calleigh, Ryan, and Alex, the latter with a curious expression, Ryan looking like he was having a hard time suppressing laughter, and Calleigh stern and exasperated, though as he approached could see a hint of amusement. But no more than that.

"What have I missed?" Eric asked, pouring himself some orange juice and grabbing a bagel.

Calleigh wasted no time in answering. "Oh, nothing really: Your son just wants to know what a 'whorehouse' is, that's all."

Eric choked on a bite of bagel. "Excuse me?"

"Yep," Calleigh said, most of the amusement gone now. "Ryan here says that Alex couldn't sleep last night, and instead of putting him to bed you told him to watch MANswers."

Eric stared stupidly at Calleigh. "Cal, I swear, I didn't realize it was still on when he came in. We were talking and-"

"I don't care Eric," Calleigh sighed. "Just fix it."

She patted him on the chest and headed upstairs to finish getting ready. If there was one good thing that could be simultaneously bad about Calleigh's temper, it was that it never lasted very long. The end result for him, however, was usually pretty bad. Hence the present case.

How was he supposed to explain to a four-year-old what a whorehouse was? Isn't this something that dad's usually explain to their sons in about ten years? Alex looked up at him expectantly.

"Just a minute, buddy," he muttered to Alex before grabbing Ryan by the elbow and dragging him to the corner of the kitchen. "I told you not to watch it," Ryan reprimanded tauntingly, smiling widely.

"Shut up. How do I fix this?" he whispered fiercely. He glanced at Alex, who was studying his Fruit Loops intently, not really listening to the adult conversation. "He's four-freaking-years old!"

Ryan shrugged. "You're the dad. Isn't this knowledge embedded in your brain as soon as he's born or something?"

"No, it's not," Eric growled. "Now what do I say?"

The younger man just smiled and shrugged again. Eric sighed exasperatedly and shoved him out of the kitchen. "Go take a shower, you useless bastard!"

Ryan frowned playfully at him. "Language, Daddy, language," he said solemnly, nodding at Alex, who was now munching happily on the sugary cereal.

Eric had the sudden urge to flip him off, but knew better. He made sure Ryan was gone before he sat down next to Alex at the breakfast table.

"Hey buddy," he began. Alex looked up at him with those inquisitive green eyes that were so like his mother's, cereal now forgotten. "What did you ask Mama?"

"What's a whorehouse? It wa' on that show you told me to wach, Daddy," Alex replied in his adorable voice.

Eric thought for a second. "Alex, anything you saw on that show, I don't want you to say them again. Do you understand?"

Alex frowned. "Yes," he started, but persevered with a stubbornness that came from both mother and father. "But what's a whorehouse? Why can' I say tho' thing?"

Eric smiled and took his son in his arms. "Because I love you too much," he said quietly, hugging the small body to his chest, short arms wrapping around his neck. "Now do you promise Daddy?"

Alex nodded. "Promise, Daddy. "

Well, what do you think? Good or bad review please!