Pushing Back the Clovis Point
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The better man had won. He had her all along. Pre Rio.
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Calleigh/Eric
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Title refers to a term historians, archeologists, and paleontologists use to describe the discovery of something older than the oldest artifact on record. The Clovis Point is the beginning of civilization in the Americas, named after the town in New Mexico where ancient peoples' tools were discovered. The Clovis Point has since been "pushed back," after archeologists discovered that the beginning of everything was, in fact, much earlier than what they had originally thought. Maybe the beginning of Calleigh and Eric was much eariler than Jerry and them have let on.
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The tarmac was hot in the afternoon sun, and Ryan was sure the soles of his shoes were softening as he stood there, fixing the dual engine puddle-jumper before him with a critical, skeptical glare through the blackened lenses of his sunglasses. Faintly, he heard Horatio discussing clearances with the pilot, and he tried not to wonder whose palm had been greased to get the flight out to Rio as quickly as they had. The tire tracks left by the flight Antonio Riaz had taken were still fresh on the landing strip; the craft had only disappeared into the southern horizon moments ago.
"Wolfe, gimme a hand." Ryan pulled himself out of his thoughts at the sound of Eric calling his name. He turned toward his friend, and made his way over to the side of the plane, where Eric was wrestling with a few bags and a series of equipment. Marisol's death hung wearily on Eric's features, behind the façade of determinism.
They weren't exactly the definition of close, or friendly for that matter, so Ryan chose to assist in the manhandling of the necessary provisions rather than approaching the subject of feelings or states of mind. He lifted a larger, government-issue case, climbing up the few steps, the weight feeling heavy in his arms as he handed it to Eric, who stashed it alongside a few others in the cabin of the tiny plane.
"Starting to look like you're preparing for war, Delko." He had clearly overstepped the boundary between them, judging by the icy glare he received from the older man.
"Revenge." There was vindication in his voice, but it failed to reach his eyes. Eric Delko straightened at the top of the ladder, his attention caught by something behind Ryan, and off to the side. Ryan turned, squinting through the bright heat of the Miami sun, stepping aside as Eric brushed past him, his footsteps tumbling down the stairs and across the tarmac silently. He recognized his blonde coworker instantly, and wandered a few yards further away, giving them space for a private conversation. Calleigh had made her way toward the plane, slowing to a stop as Eric met her partway.
He couldn't help but watch them, fascinated by their easy body language when their world was wrought with tension. He was thankful for his sunglasses; added anonymity as well as protection from the UV rays. Calleigh pulled Eric to her, wrapping an arm comfortably around his hip, stepping into his embrace as he leaned down, hugging her slight frame against his. Ryan looked away as Eric ran a hand along her shoulders, intent on not visually eavesdropping on their exchange. Calleigh pressed a kiss to his shoulder before drawing back only just, laying a comforting palm along his jaw, offering him a smile as he leaned into her touch, his fingers finding their way to her arm, kneading her bicep affectionately.
"Quisiera que usted tuviera cuidado." The Spanish fell off Calleigh's lip, calming Eric's nerves. Ryan had worked with Calleigh long enough to recognize her asking Eric to be careful. He would have laughed, had the pending situation not been so grave. Asking Eric to be careful was like asking the weather in Boston to make sense. And like the snowstorm that postponed his last Organic Chem final in May of his senior year at BC, Eric would only be careful after the danger had passed, leaving common sense in the dust. You could ask as much as you want, but both forces would do as they pleased.
"Prometo." He mumbled against her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly. Ryan watched the apprehensive, seemingly strict adherence to the lab's policy flake off her shoulders, cracking his heart when they leaned against each other, their contact pleading that brand of intimacy that he only read about in Henry James novels; strong and unyielding, but human, and faulted. They hadn't seen it yet, but it was clear as day to him. Faintly, he heard the carefully contained hysteria in Calleigh's voice, all but begging Eric to come home safely.
"Not good enough. Quisiera que usted me prometiera usted vendrá a casa caja fuerte."
"No puedo prometer cualquier cosa, Cal." He sighed, running his fingers through her hair for a moment. "Usted lo sabe." He'd never heard Eric sound so soothing, and he picked up a few cases idly, trying not to seem like he was eavesdropping. He wasn't, really, much of the Spanish was too quick for him, and the Cuban dialect sounded mostly like swirls and loops to his Yankee ear.
"No haga cualquier cosa estúpido, o imprudente, o noble, o valiente. Estos hombres son peligrosos, Eric, y poseen esa ciudad." She made to pull away, but Eric's hands fell to her hips, holding her. "Y es diferente que Miami. Tienen la ventaja casera del campo." Her largest fear was that he would pay too dearly hunting down Riaz, that he would come back from Brazil in a coroner's bag, and he'd be gone, just like that, like Tim.
"Seré aceptable, Calleigh. H y yo seremos finos. Tenemos que hacer esto. Tenemos que ir. Familia, Calleigh. La familia es toda." Eric tried his best to reassure her, but he knew that the tension would only fall out of her shoulders when he came back to her. Ryan looked back at his friends just in time to see Eric press a kiss to Calleigh's forehead, and step out of her grasp.
"Seré hogar derecho." He paused a moment, pushing a stray lock of blonde out of her eyes, brushing his fingertips along her temple. "I'll be right home, Cal. Few days. I promise." She nodded, breaking into an embarrassed smile, the rosy tint rising predictably in her cheeks. He chuckled out a laugh, as best he could, dropping his gaze on the hangar behind them and gathering her into his embrace comfortably, like he'd been doing it all along. She fit snugly against his chest, the wayward strands of blonde tucking neatly beneath his chin. Ryan looked away sharply as Eric leaned down, kissing Calleigh attentively.
Their rivalry would dissipate, Ryan suspected, when Eric and Horatio returned. At least wane. The tension between them had mostly been about Ryan taking Speedle's place on shift, but maybe the heat he felt from Delko intermittently was the possessive streak the other man had when it came to cozying up to Calleigh. He should have seen it when Jake Berkeley had meandered his way into the lab. It was only a few weeks, but he had reveled in the satisfaction of the Delko daggers being pointed to someone other than himself.
Calleigh hugged Eric, now, flinging her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling the nape of his neck as he straightened, lifting her a few inches off the sweltering tarmac easily, balancing their weight with what could only be deciphered as muscle memory. Ryan sighed, tossing the last of the equipment into the cargo hold of the dual engine monstrosity, adjusting the dark lenses of his sunglasses firmly across the bridge of his nose. The better man had won. He just had to keep telling himself that. Eric would make her happy. They'd been through everything, leaning on each other the whole way. How could he have stepped in on that? How could he have even tried? Ryan trudged away a few feet, coming to stand beside Frank, nervously chewing his thumbnail.
He watched Eric give Calleigh's hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her, taking a handful of strides toward him. Ryan cocked an eyebrow at his coworker questioningly as Delko leaned in close, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"Take care of her, if this falls apart."
"Eric." Horatio stood at the foot of the stairs, fingers resting resiliently along his belt, determinism flooding his features. Eric stepped away from Ryan as quickly as he had leaned in, nodding to his brother in law and crossing the tarmac resolutely. He twisted, looking back at Ryan as he took the stairs.
"Got it?" Eric seemed to relax, if only a little, as Ryan nodded, pulling off his sunglasses and meeting his friend's worried stare.
"I will." It was a promise that soldiers made to each other, in the chaos of battle and the hours before it, and it settled unevenly in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't have to take care of Calleigh, he knew; Eric would return.
Moments later, the tiny plane began to move, gliding rickety down the tarmac to the landing strip, leaving them with the reverberations of the engines and heat of melted rubber on their shoes. He would return to her. He had never left her side, and he would hardly begin now, when she needed him the most.
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Woke up with this one much like I did with 'Seeking Validation.' I'm warming to the idea of Calleigh and Eric… slowly. I like to try to stay canon whenever plausible. This was just to try them out… I'm still on the fence. Unless Calleigh having Eric means I can have Ryan… because that would be fabulous. Jonathan Togo is from the Bay State, after all. ::wink, wink:: Hope you enjoyed.
