Title: One Night Stand
Author: rachelAbendstern
Summary: Ryan stumbles over a drunken Eric in a bar. Inspired by a (Christmas!) challenge
Disclaimer: I don't know exactly who they belong to, but certainly not me! The song mentioned is: 'Hallelujah' - Rufus Wainwright
Warnings: SLASH, people! Common policy applies: don't like, don't read!

AN: I stumbled over a challenge when I browsed the 'Ryan Wolfe and Eric Delko romance's Journal'. I know it's about 4 months late and I know I should be writing on AWP but I figured what the hell. The plot bunny wouldn't go away and I needed the distraction from my frustration with the other story... Hope you like it none the less. Bear with me, the timeline is most likely off and Alexx' behaviour exaggerated. I haven't come around to actually watch season 3.1 yet.
Here's the challenge (I didn't quite follow those rules, just to warn you):
1. Something traumatic happens to Eric/Ryan (you choose) like a death of someone close to them, their in an accident or something.
2. The other one volunteers to help them through this difficult time, forcing them to spend a lot of time together being comforted and comforting.
3. This amount of close contact and interaction causes them to analyze their relationship and to talk and acknowledge that Ryan isn't just Speedle's replacement, but that he is right for the job.
4. All of this talking leads to them confronting their feelings and starting a relationship and sharing a very sweet and fluffy Christmas together.
5. They find a creative way to tell the rest of the team.
6. Characters, must use Horatio, Calleigh, Valera, Alexx, Eric, Ryan, and if you want Trip.
7. Any rating is acceptable. I would prefer a multichapter fic but a long oneshot is ok if you want to do that instead.

I.

Of all the places he could have run into him, Ryan Wolfe thought as he spotted one of his co-workers in the shadows of a dingy bar he normally wouldn't have set a foot in. The only reason he was even here now was an old acquaintance from patrol who somehow – Ryan still wasn't sure exactly how Oliver had done it – somehow had convinced Ryan to share a glass with him and some friends after work. Usually that would not be a problem had it been any bar other than this. The tables needed a good scrubbing, the chairs were on the rather rickety side and the floor... well, he really didn't want to get into that.
Making a short excuse to his companions, the young CSI made his way over to the other man who was sitting alone in a far corner of the room. That Ryan had even recognized him was a miracle of its own. And of all the states to be in, Ryan silently added when he had a good view of his colleague and a tabletop full of various bottles and glasses. Delko was wasted, truly and utterly wasted.
He leaned over the table to get into the other's line of view, his hands resting on the sticky surface. He was purposefully not thinking of how he would need to scrub his hands later to get rid of the disgusting feeling.
"Delko?" he asked hesitantly. Only now did the other CSI seem to notice him. The baleful look he received in return threw him off for a moment. He knew the Cuban didn't like him all that much, but this? Ryan almost decided to leave again. But for the sake of his sanity and Delko's reputation, he opted to attribute it to the other's obvious drunkenness. And boy, was Delko ever drunk if the swaying of his head on his shoulders was any indication.
"What do you want, Wolfe?" The words were certainly supposed to sound angry and spiteful but to the younger man they were only a drunken slur with a touch of resentfulness.
Making up his mind to do the honourable thing despite his exasperation with Delko's attitude, Ryan came around the table, replying with a barely recognizable sigh: "Getting you home. You had more than enough for one day, Delko!"
Not to mention that he would get out of this caricature of a bar without appearing rude.
After an explanation to his companions, paying the Cuban's considerable bill and a half-hearted struggle on Delko's side, the young man was finally, finally walking out the door and towards his car, swaying slightly under the weight of the other man who was leaning heavily on him.
"So," Ryan talked without expecting any reply. It was better than silence. "What happened to have you in one of the ugliest bars I have ever seen, wasted beyond belief?"
To his surprise, Delko seemed coherent enough to actually understand his question and countered – well, whined anyway: "Why do you care?"
The younger one sighed heavily, leaning his colleague against the car to search for his keys. He already knew that he wouldn't like the answer to his next question but he asked anyway.
"Why wouldn't I care?"
"You're not Speed."
Yep, he knew he wouldn't like it.
Manoeuvring the drunken man into the passenger seat, Ryan couldn't help but muttering with only a touch of bitterness: "I know. Believe me, I know."
After all, it wasn't like anyone let him forget that little fact.

666

Pain. That was the first thing Eric felt. A killer head-ache to be exact. Then there was a foul taste in his mouth and the light hurt his eyes. Great. If that weren't telltale signs of a hangover, Eric didn't know what was.
It took him a few moments to be able to open his eyes – realizing that the light really wasn't all that bright thanks to the shades drawn over the windows – and a few more to recognize his surroundings, wondering how in hell he had made it home in the state he must have been in last night.
Jumbled pictures and pieces of conversations entered his mind and he let out a long groan. God help him! He remembered Ryan trying to put him to bed and him trying to bring Ryan down with him. He remembered kissing Ryan, the feeling of long legs around his hips, Ryan looking up at him through sweaty strands of hair and dark eyes. A quick check beneath the covers confirmed his fears. What had him possessed to do that? What had possessed Ryan to let him do that? And where was Ryan anyway?
The delicious smell of coffee wafting through the room to his nose answered at least one of his questions. Standing up carefully, he donned a pair sweat pants before slowly walking out into his living room.
He stopped short for a second when he reached the doorway. Eric didn't think he had ever seen his rooms this clean before.
Catching sight of Ryan who was sitting on his sofa with strained calmness, nursing a mug of coffee with both hands, Eric moved in front of him and remarked more composed than he felt: "So you cleaned my rooms..." Not exactly an award winning opening to conversation but it was the best the man could come up with at the moment.
Ryan took one look at him and smiled wryly.
"Mh. The famous morning-after regrets, huh?"
And man, was he right with that. He had been drunk last night, more so than in a long while and he decidedly pushed the reason for his little excess firmly in a far-away corner of his mind. And while he might even have hoped to get laid, a co-worker and frie... well, a co-worker – and a male one at that – was not what he had been looking for. It was not worth the hassle afterwards. Although Eric supposed that was a moot point by now anyway.
He ran his hands through his hair in agitation before sitting down on a low stool opposite the younger man. "How can you be so calm about this? Aren't you the least bit weirded out?"
In a strange way, Eric was even grateful that Ryan had waited for him to wake up instead of just leaving without a word. They still had to work with each other and Eric could do without any more awkward encounters in the lab or field than they already had. Hopefully, the younger CSI had not gotten any wrong ideas the night before because Eric had no intention of entering a relationship with anyone right now. What happened was a one time thing and he had to make sure that Ryan understood that. He still wasn't sure why the other man had not simply kicked his butt when he had made his drunken moves.
Consequently, Ryan's answer was somewhat of a relief for him.
"To be honest, I don't know how I am supposed to feel."
Well, good, at least he wasn't alone with that problem. Ryan stared at him over the rim of his dark blue mug – a get well present from one of his sisters from years ago – for long moments without saying anything and Eric was really getting uncomfortable at this unusual behaviour. But just as he was about to explain that their brief encounter that night didn't mean anything, Ryan beat him to it.
"Look;" he began, setting his mug on the table and leaning his elbows on his legs. "It happened. For all the wrong reasons, but it happened and we can't change that anymore."
Eric resignedly rubbed his hands over his eyes, agreeing with his companion only too readily. The question was how to salvage what little of a relationship they had had before.
"So, will you at least tell me what brought this all on?"
Instead of an answer, Eric put his head into both hands. Ryan just had to ask that particular question, didn't he? His carefully built walls started to crumble when he thought back a few hours; that fateful phone call from his sister; those long hours in the emergency room of the Dade Memorial.
He was just about ready to snap at the other man that it wasn't any of his business; only it was. Eric made it his business however much unintentionally when he tried to drink himself into oblivion and Ryan was left to pick up the pieces. Ryan had at the very least the right to know why he found himself escorting a heavily inebriated colleague home and especially why he found himself underneath said colleague in the course of the night. Eric felt a reluctant flush rising in his face at the hazy memories.
"My father died last night." There, he had managed to say it without choking on the words. It still didn't feel right though. How could his father be dead?
He didn't look up even when he heard Ryan shift on the sofa.
"I'm sorry." The words were soft, simple and genuine. Once more Eric was grateful to Ryan. He didn't think he could have held it together if the younger man had tried to comfort him. Words of comfort were something he wasn't ready for just yet, from anyone.
"So am I."
There were more sounds of shifting and then shoes walking on carpet when Ryan made his way over into the kitchen. Eric heard the water running and as Ryan washed his mug, he suddenly remembered Horatio mention that their rookie had a mild case of OCD. He looked around the room owlishly. No more dust on any surface, his CDs ordered and neatly put into their shelf, the cushions and blanket on his couch straightened out and in place... If this was a mild case he'd hate to see what the really hard cases looked like. Why hadn't he ever noticed before?
A mug with steaming coffee and an Aspirin pushed into his hands brought him back to the present and he stared at them for a moment in confusion. Funny, until now, he hadn't even remembered his hangover.
"I guess I'll better be going before I overstay my welcome," he heard Ryan's voice from the doorway. The young man was already on his way out. Eric knew he should have said something. 'Thank you' or 'No, you're not imposing' or even 'Goodbye'. But frankly, for all he appreciated Ryan's efforts, he was looking forward to being alone and having some time to sort out his thoughts and feelings. Lord knew he had enough to think through and surprisingly not everything involved his father.
In the end, he did call Ryan back one last time.
"Why?" was all that his lips were able to form. But Ryan seemed to understand him just fine. 'Why did you stay last night?'; 'Why didn't you freak out this morning?'
The other smiled wanly at him. "Maybe for the same reasons you did," he told Eric, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He stepped back and headed for the door but before it shut behind him, Eric heard him say: "I was lonely."
Oh yes, much to think about indeed.

II.

Surprisingly, their little encounter that night had no lasting negative effects on their working relationship. If anything, it was quite the opposite, Ryan mused as he stood bent over a microscope in Trace, comparing a fibre they had found at a crime scene to the ones catalogued in their database and hoping to come up with something. The first few days after, they had kept their distance although Ryan kept catching Eric shooting him curious glances.
He freely admitted that hitting the sack with the Cuban hadn't been the smartest thing he had ever done but he couldn't quite bring himself to regret it. The only thing he possibly regretted about the whole incident was that he wouldn't get to repeat the experience. Because he might be interested but Delko sure as hell wasn't. And to be brutally honest with himself that was exactly why he had given in to Eric's drunken advances; he took what he could get because it would probably remain the only time the tall Latino showed any interest in him outside of work.
He straightened up and stretched his aching back just as Eric stuck his head through the door.
"Hey," the other CSI greeted amicably. "Did you find anything yet?"
Ryan shook his head no, blinking rapidly to adjust his tired and itchy eyes to the bright light in the lab. "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't find anything. With my luck it'll be the last sample that will match. I'm still waiting for the results of spectral analysis though. Try Valera."
"I will."
The young man looked up at Eric's dull voice, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the unusual pallor of his normally tanned skin. Eric still had a hard time dealing with his father's death. Ryan knew that Horatio had wanted him to take one or two weeks off when he had learned about the whole mess. Eric was back three days later stating that he would go stir-crazy if he had to choose between doing nothing in his own empty apartment and doing nothing in the company of his mourning mother and sisters from sunrise to nightfall for more than two days. Ryan really couldn't blame him for that. He remembered all too well how it had been like when his own parents had died.
"What's wrong?"
Eric sighed and stepped in, closing the door and leaning against it. Letting his head fall back he just stood there for a few moments before explaining: "Tomorrow's my father's memorial service."
Oh. Ryan could see how that would dampen his spirits.
"So, did your mother finally get a hold of that priest?" he tried to lighten the mood.
Eric had told him a few days back that his father's body had been incinerated for over two weeks already and the only reason there had not been a memorial service yet was because his mother insisted that the ceremony be held by a certain priest they had not been able to contact up until then.
The taller man snorted quietly. "Yeah. You know why we didn't find him until now? He has been reassigned to a new parish in another state."
Ryan couldn't help but laugh at that. From what he knew about Juana Delko – which honestly wasn't much – he could just picture her dragging the Father by the hem of his robes back into town.
He turned back to the 'scope and continued his search through the database while the other man only stood there relaxing a bit and watching him for a few minutes. That was the good thing about their night together. They were now comfortable enough with each other to be in the same room without necessarily feeling awkward and having to say something. Whatever else could be said about the stupidity of their actions, it had somewhat forced them to take another look at their previous behaviour towards each other.
"Did I ever say 'Thank you', Wolfe?" Eric's serious voice interrupted his concentration.
Confusion written clearly in his face, Ryan turned to look at the solemn face of his colleague. "For what?"
"For what?" Eric echoed incredulously, a bemused smile on his face. "God, Ryan!"
Ryan just frowned at him as the other man pushed away from the door and gestured empathetically with his hands while listing: "For not trying to comfort me and doting over me the way Calleigh and Alexx have. I love them both to death but they are smothering me with their well-meant support. Or for not walking on eggshells around me like the rest of the lab. Hell, for not kicking my ass that night or the morning after – which by the way you would have had every right to do! – or for bringing me home in the first place and paying my bill on top of that –which you completely failed to mention yet!"
"Oh," Ryan muttered, dumbfounded and embarrassed. "Well, you're welcome."
And with that, he turned back to his microscope again, hoping Eric didn't notice the uncomfortable blush creeping up his cheeks. He didn't even think twice about most of the things the Cuban mentioned, so why would Eric need to thank him?
The other man snorted once again, asking with quiet amusement: "That's all you have to say?"
Sighing, the younger CSI straightened up again, fighting back his blush while facing his colleague. "What else do you want me to say, Eric?" he answered with a question of his own. "I did what I thought best, there's nothing special about that."
His older companion only stared at him for another moment. "Yes, there is," he finally told him and before Ryan could argue, he suggested: "Let me at least treat you for a meal. You will need a break when you are through this whole thing today. And frankly, I could use some distraction before I have to show up tomorrow."
Ryan considered his invitation for a few seconds, before nodding his head almost warily. "Alright. See you later then."
He couldn't help himself; he was still slightly guarded about their newly established cease-fire, but Eric seemed sincere enough about his attitude adjustment. Now if only he could get Alexx to turn down her animosity. Ryan even understood her anger and resentment towards him, but her callous remarks and cold treatment still hurt. It wasn't his fault that her friend had died. He didn't expect her to make a complete turn-around and suddenly like him the way Eric seemed to have done; but it would be nice to be able to work with her without all the little stabs she liked to throw his way.
"Yeah, see you later."
Going back to work on the other evidence of their case again, the tall Cuban hesitated in the doorway, then grinned and faced Ryan once more.
"You know, you have to learn to accept compliments, Ryan."

666

"You really should have stayed home today, Eric," a familiar voice sounded from the doorway of the locker room. "You look horrible."
Only barely suppressing a groan, Eric finished putting his shirt on, turned around and watched Calleigh coming forward with a concerned expression on her face. Like he had told Ryan a few hours earlier he loved the woman to death but at the moment he honestly wished she would just leave him the hell alone. Didn't she realize that she didn't make it any better with her overly compassionate behaviour? He knew she didn't mean it but for the last couple of days he felt like she was patronizing him and he didn't like that feeling one bit.
"Calleigh," the man began, trying to reign in his temper as he finally decided to put an end to that mollycoddling of hers. "You know I love you, so don't get me wrong. Stop it. I know you are worrying and I know you mean it well but you and Alexx are driving me crazy with your behaviour since my father's death. Yes, I loved him and yes, I probably cried myself to sleep every night for over a week after but it's not the end of the world. I'm not made of glass, Calleigh, and it's seriously frustrating when you treat me like I'm going to break down every minute."
There was a wounded look in his friend's eyes now and Eric almost hated himself for putting it there but he knew that the words needed to be said. He wasn't able to take another day of that overprotective demeanour and he probably would have snapped some day soon and said something he would have regretted for his entire life had he not stepped his foot down now. Calleigh was just about to open her mouth when Ryan walked into the room, hair unruly and eyes bloodshot. He had been peering through that scope for hours on end before he found what they had been looking for and appeared to be looking forward to be finishing work for the day as much as Eric was. Seeing his two co-workers in the locker room practically nose to nose, the young man looked worried from one to the other before dryly asking: "Am I interrupting?"
"No."
"Yes!"
Damn that woman! Couldn't she just leave it at that? Eric glowered at her in frustration but she just returned his gaze with a very determined one.
"I'll just grab my stuff then." Ryan stated, exasperation obvious in his voice. He wormed his way through his two colleagues and true to his word only grabbed his bag out of his still damaged locker before turning on his heels and moving out of the line of fire.
"I'll wait for you in the garage, Delko." He threw back over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.
"You do that. I won't be long."
Now, Calleigh looked incredulously at him. With narrowed eyes she asked: "You meet up with Ryan after work? What's up with you? Why are you suddenly being so civil to him but almost bite my head off for worrying about you?"
"Perhaps because he doesn't ask me how I am every five goddamn minutes," Eric heatedly retorted. "My father died, Calleigh. There should be no need to ask how I feel about that and it sure isn't going to change in the course of a couple of hours."
"So you'd rather be with someone who doesn't care?"
"I'd rather be with someone who doesn't suffocate me with their care, Cal, and right now, whether you mean it or not, that's exactly what you're doing!" Once again she gazed at him with that hurt look in her eyes. Eric wanted to cry out in frustration. Jesus Christ, he didn't mean to hurt her but she had to understand! Maybe it was best he left now before he said something he would truly regret later on.
"I'm sorry, Cal. See you the day after tomorrow."
It was a tactical retreat, Eric told himself as he hurried down the corridors towards the garage, away from his upset friend. He'd profusely deny any claims of flight if ever asked.

Despite the less than enjoyable beginnings of the evening, dinner turned out to be quite the contrary. The way Ryan always had to rearrange the dishes and cutlery whenever the waiter arrived and changed something on their table amused the Cuban to no end. He knew the younger man couldn't help it but it was just too damn funny to watch especially since the waiter kept throwing glares in Ryan's direction for making him look incompetent. At a particularly gleeful smirk of Eric's, Ryan was the one to throw him a glare.
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, although Eric could see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's easy for you to laugh at."
And it was, the man realized. It was easy to laugh in Ryan's company even in times like these. Around the younger man there was no guilty conscience for going on with his life, for being able or even wanting to laugh after what had happened. That was the main reason he had been so angry at Calleigh earlier, he now understood. Her constant questions after his well-being, her assuming that he was still mourning his father day in, day out unconsciously made him feel that he didn't have the right to be happy, to be amused, to live his life in spite of the tragic event. No, he was not fine all of the time and yes, he would mourn for quite a while yet but that did not mean that he could not have good times in between!
Somehow they ended up in Ryan's apartment after dinner, neither of them wanting to go home to empty rooms just yet. Ryan's home proved to be both exactly and nothing like he had imagined it to be. Every room was meticulously clean much like Eric's own had been after Ryan's unexpected stay overnight. The books were sorted by genre, author and name, mimicked by his CDs and DVDs, nothing out of place or random. But that was about all Eric had been right at. He had not taken his colleague for a Science Fiction and Fantasy fan for example but besides the obligatory 'Lord of the Rings' and 'Star Wars' saga, Ryan had plenty of the sort placed on his shelves. Neither had he thought the younger man to be one for computer games and now he was sitting here, on the soft carpet of Ryan's living room floor in front of his TV, racing him on his PS2, having the most fun he had in ages.
"The other direction!" Ryan got out between laughs as Eric tried valiantly to even keep his car on the road. "You're supposed to be driving in the other direction, Eric! You're crossing the finish line backwards!"
Just then the discouraging words 'Game Over' blinked on the screen and the Latino threw his control towards his companion in mock anger.
"I wanted to let you win, you jerk!" he griped but Ryan just laughed louder.
Eric watched him, studying his profile, while the younger man finished the race. As refreshing as this evening had been for him, it was also nice to see his companion relax for once. Until today he hadn't even realized how tense Ryan was at work. It was funny somehow, that it was the one thing he had thought to be the end of their (at any rate) tenuous work relationship that had forced him to re-evaluate the man beside him. After he had finally gotten over himself and saw Ryan as the rookie he was and not just a replacement for his best friend, he noticed how hard the kid had to work to gain even the most basic acceptance at the lab. Harder than it should have been for a newbie. Most of them treated him with a kind of suffering tolerance that made it almost impossible for Ryan to ask for help if he needed it. And somehow they all expected him to already know everything about the work of a CSI which only made his mistakes stand out all the more, when, in all honesty, Ryan was doing a damn fine job with what little assistance Horatio was able to give him after only about five months on their team.
Noticing his stare, Ryan abandoned the game and turned his attention on his guest, a confused frown on his face. "What?"
"Nothing," he replied a little too fast, not quite comfortable with his own part in Ryan's hard start into his new job. Besides, he didn't want to spoil the evening by as serious a conversation as an honest answer would have provoked. Suddenly though, Eric smirked again.
"I just wondered..."
"What?" Ryan asked again, decidedly wary this time.
"If I got you as drunk as I was that night, would you try and take advantage of me?"
Ryan blushed a bright red at his question and Eric's smirk got even wider. But then, the brunette gave him a lopsided grin and replied with laughter in his voice: "Eric, if I'll ever be as drunk as you were, you can count yourself lucky if I don't pass out on you on the way to the bed."

666

The day was as beautiful as it could get, Ryan thought as he kneeled on the rich dark-green grass, the spicy scent of the soil filling his nose while he weeded and trimmed the flowers on the grave. If asked, he could not tell when it had started but he had become used to taking care of Tim Speedle's burial place when he had finished with his family's. The two graves were virtually next to each other, a fact he had only picked up on after he had met his new boss Horatio visiting his friend's last resting place about one week into his new job. Ryan would have been embarrassed by his negligence had Horatio not made the same mistake. They didn't talk much that day but Ryan had the feeling that the red head had taken him under his wing from then on which he was more grateful for than he could ever express. For the first few weeks Horatio was virtually the only friendly presence in the lab and Ryan may have clung to that a bit more than he normally would have.
"You left big shoes to fill, Tim Speedle," the young man told a colleague he had never even met when he was alive.
"Taking your place was never something I wanted to do. I just grabbed the opportunity to fulfil a dream of mine and I somehow managed to step on the crime lab's collective toes with that. I wish I had friends like them. They're loyal to a fault, you know."
That was another habit he had taken up. He told a dead man about his problems at the lab, his hurt at the team's first instinct of rejection. It was foolish, he knew, but he felt more comfortable telling Speed all those things than his own family, let alone someone who was still alive.
"Sometimes I hate you for that. I guess it's easier to blame the dead guy for my problems than someone else. Hell, I don't even know if we had gotten along if you were still alive, so just ignore my ramblings if I annoy you. But maybe you'll be glad to know that your friends are doing alright. Alexx is still embracing the void that you left behind but I think she's coming around. Not that she's very polite to me, but, you know, she doesn't walk around like a zombie anymore. Horatio still has that far away look sometimes but he is as dedicated to his work and colleagues as ever. The best boss anyone could wish for. And Calleigh is making jokes again and laughing. I think it helped that she loves her guns so much. Shooting seems like comfort food for her, you know."
Smiling, Ryan sat back on his heels, rubbing his hands to get rid of the dirt. They were itching with the need to get clean but for now, the desire to stay a while longer outweighed the compulsion.
"You may have noticed that I left someone out. Eric is fine though. It's just that there's so much to tell about him that I don't know where to start. He still misses his father, obviously, especially now that the holidays are approaching. But the huge bags under his eyes have disappeared, so I guess he's dealing." He snickered softly at his next thought. "And after Cal and Alexx finally got rid of the mother hen attitude he doesn't feel the need anymore to hide in the nearest closet each time they're in immediate proximity. It was damn funny to watch though."
He was silent for a few minutes, just letting his gaze wander over the peaceful churchyard, only the occasional visitor visible between the rows of tomb stones.
"I really like him, you know," he continued then. "But I don't quite know what to make of him. I mean, don't get me wrong it's great that... we're friends now but somehow it all happened so fast. Or maybe that's just my OCD speaking up. I don't really like change if it happens too fast. And it doesn't help that I... that I started to fall for him."
There, he said it. That was something he had not even admitted to himself until now and he was not sure how he felt about that particular development. Being attracted to a colleague was one thing, but falling for one... that could open up a whole new can of worms.
"Let's just hope that I won't make a complete idiot out of myself," he summed his feelings up in one sentence. He stayed at Speed's grave for another minute or two, just sitting and watching and trying to come to grips with his own feelings. Then he straightened up, unconsciously scratching his hands as the need to wash them grew out of control.
"I'll be seeing you."
Gathering the small heap of weeds and dry leaves, he turned around to walk to the waste basket. He was just scrubbing his hands clean in a small fountain near the entrance gate when he heard a familiar angry voice.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Glancing warily over his shoulder he saw Alexx' slim form, hands on her hips, glaring darkly at his back. Sighing, he closed his eyes and counted to ten before answering, still with his back to her. "What do you think I am doing here, Alexx?"
At last turning around he fixed her with a glare of his own, all the while drying his hands on his jeans.
"Jesus Christ, Alexx!" He finally exploded. "You act like you're the only one who ever lost someone! Let me give you a little piece of advice and get over it!"
And then he stalked away without a second glance, all the way to his car where he sat down in, just breathing deeply for a few minutes to calm his nerves before starting the motor and driving away. He didn't know why he let the woman get to him so much. Perhaps it was because he actually wanted her to like him and therefore her constant jabs hurt all the more.

666

Crack.
Eric jumped in discomfort when he heard bone break under the unnecessary amount of force Alexx exerted on a huge pair of scissors that looked way too much like the ones he had stashed away somewhere in his kitchen for comfort – the ones his mother used on turkeys or chicken. He glanced warily at her face as she concentrated on the autopsy. There was an angry strain around her eyes and the muscles in her cheek as she grimly went about her work, so unlike the respectful almost gentle way she usually treated the bodies with.
"What bug crawled up your ass and died?" he blurted out before he could censure his words.
The M.E. threw him a warning glare but otherwise continued her work without answering his actually serious question. Thinking about this morning's events he guessed:
"This doesn't have anything to do with Ryan, by chance?"
The Cuban knew that Alexx and Ryan had not been on the best of terms from the very beginning but today, the black woman had gone overboard with her dislike of their new co-worker as far as Eric was concerned. She had given him the cold shoulder all along but today it was paired with some insults that went way below waistline. Ryan had silently taken them with a weariness that didn't sit well with the other man. He had seen the hurt in his friend's eyes and it made him feel guilty somehow, knowing that not too long ago, he himself had acted in a similar manner.
"Not everyone can be as infatuated with the new guy as you," the woman growled with a distasteful twitch of her eyebrows. Eric's eyes went wide in shock, not believing his ears, although the disbelief was more at her tone than her words.
"Excuse me?"
Releasing a furious hiss of a breath, Alexx pressed her hands against the autopsy table and fixed him with accusing dark eyes.
"Ever since your father's death you suddenly act as if the two of you are the best of friends. Do you think I didn't notice? What happened, Eric? Did you just forget Speed? He was your best friend and now you act as if he never even mattered, joking around with that... that inexperienced brat who has taken his place and now his supposed best friend!"
Gritting his teeth in anger, Eric waited for her to finish with suddenly cold eyes. Quite deliberately he then repeated: "Again. What bug crawled up your ass and died? And to answer your questions... What happened is that I woke up one day and saw a kid desperately struggling to do a good job against the collective efforts of people who keep comparing him to someone he cannot measure up to simply because he isn't and can never be that person! Speed is dead, Alexx and opposed to what you may think it didn't happen because Ryan conspired with some dark force to get his job. It was an accident and as bad as his timing might have been it wasn't Ryan's fault. It took me a while to figure that out. And while trying to make up for my behaviour I learned that I really enjoy spending time with him. So, yes, we're friends now and it has nothing to do with whether or not I forgot about Speed – which is never going to happen, let me assure you. It's been half a year, Alexx. Don't you think it's time to finally let go and get on with your life? He wouldn't want you to do that to yourself, you know that."
Alexx drew a shuddering breath and turned around abruptly, snapping her bloody gloves off and throwing them into a waste basket with jerky movements. She stepped away from Eric without a glance, arms hugging her middle and shaking all over. It took Eric a moment to realize that she was silently crying. With an exhausted sigh he stepped forward, turned her around by the shoulder and tightly hugged her to him. In a way, he was relieved at her breakdown he realized as she was losing the fight with her tears and desperate, heaving sobs shook her slight frame. It was long overdue.
He held on to her even as the tears dried out, waiting for her to release him in her own time.
"I don't have to like him, do I?" she finally asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder. Eric laughed quietly, shaking his head no even though she could not see.
"No. Just put away those tar and feathers, alright?"
And maybe, in time she would come to see what an amazing person Ryan really was, just like he was beginning to.

666

Once again, they ended up in his apartment after a shared dinner. Actually Calleigh had joined them for dinner as well this time, making their meal at the Italian place all the more interesting with her quirky personality. And embarrassing. Ryan still blushed when he thought about one particular question he could have done without.
He was fiddling with his napkin trying to hold off his urge to rearrange the glasses on the table after the waiter had set their beverages down in front of them. Calleigh had given him strange looks the first few times he had done it, only adding to Eric's silent but decidedly evil amusement, but the woman noticed the fiddling as well. Rolling her eyes she asked with obvious exasperation colouring her voice: "God, Ryan, when was the last time you got laid?"
There was an evil little devil on his left shoulder laughing its head off when Eric choked on his coke while Ryan himself was turning bright red, both because of the question itself and the memories it sparked. It hadn't gotten any better when his muttered: "Believe me, you don't wanna know," sparked Calleigh's interest in his non-existent love-life. He was not sure he would ever forgive the Cuban for letting him suffer through an incredibly embarrassing line of questioning.
But Eric had ended up going with him nonetheless so he reckoned he was not really good at holding grudges. And Ryan didn't mind his presence especially not after today's events. He needed someone to take his mind off today's work after he had had to put up with Alexx' attitude almost all day. She had been worse than ever after their little encounter in the graveyard the day before. Besides it had become somewhat of a cherished ritual that they got together at least once a week after work, to talk, to play on his PS2 or sometimes simply to watch TV for a while.
"Hmm, I wanted to ask you for a while about this," Eric's voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned around to see the other man holding an old but cared for honey-coloured guitar in both hands.
"Do you actually play or is this just a keepsake?"
Ryan walked over with a genuine smile on his face, remembering a time when his father had played for him and taught him how to play on that very same instrument.
"Both, to be honest." He gently took it by the neck to place it back on the stand Eric had taken it from but the Cuban halted him by asking: "Would you mind playing something?"
Looking up in surprise although truly he should have anticipated that question, he considered his friend's request. He didn't mind, not really, he noticed a little surprised at himself while already nodding in agreement. Usually Ryan didn't like playing for an audience, but Eric was no stranger anymore and the young man felt confident enough around him to know that it wasn't a big deal even if he did play wrong.
"Anything specific you want to hear?" Eric only shook his head and walked over to sit on his couch, looking expectantly at him.
Sitting down beside the Cuban and tuning the chords with practiced ease, he searched his memory for a song. Without conscious thought his fingers moved over the strings, playing the first chords of a song his sister had once loved to listen to.
"I've heard there was a secret chord/That David played and it pleased the Lord/But you don't really care for music, do you?"
He couldn't really sing all that well but as long as he kept his voice soft enough it actually fit the mood of the song or at least that was what his sister used to tell him. He didn't look up, keeping his gaze on his fingers as they moved on the strings, even though he could feel Eric's gaze on him. It was disconcerting in a way, knowing he held the other man's whole attention. The situation seemed more intimate than even their thoughtless night together that he just couldn't get out of his head. Ryan felt more vulnerable than he had in a long time. And maybe just a little bit pleased that Eric was so completely focused on him for those few precious moments.
"Maybe there's a God above/And all I ever learned from love/Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you./And It's not a cry you can hear at night/It's not somebody who's seen the light/It's a cold and its a broken Hallelujah."
He let the last chords of the song draw to a close before stilling the strings with his flat hand and finally looking up at his friend. Eric had closed his eyes some time during the last few minutes just listening, a warm smile grazing his lips. He looked breathtaking. Then his warm dark eyes opened and he still smiled, reverently whispering: "Beautiful," and Ryan wasn't entirely sure whether he meant his song. Oh yes, he was falling, and falling hard...

666

Eric cursed his mother whole-heartedly as he sprinted out to his SUV to fetch Ryan. Ryan's car had to have a check-up done and Eric had volunteered to pick him up for work for the next two days. The other man had opted to wait in the car while his friend went into his family home to retrieve the laundry his mother had insisted on doing for him. Eric had glared at his young colleague when he had noticed the smirk wanting to break out on Ryan's face while Ryan valiantly tried to hold in any teasing remarks. Hey, he was able to do the washing if he had to! It wasn't his fault that his mother snatched his dirty laundry every time she stopped by his apartment! Far be it from him to get in her way!
Anyways, the plan had been to quickly get his clothes and then return to Ryan's place for dinner. The younger man actually cooked himself and not bad at that as Eric had already found out on several occasions. Yeah, that had been the plan. But as soon as his mother learned that his friend was waiting outside she had smacked him on the head and told him in no uncertain terms to get the boy inside and finally introduce them before she had to take matters into her own hands and visit this Ryan Wolfe that he had told her so much about one of these days. Women...
Ryan was looking out into the street, curiously observing all the Christmas decoration that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere over the last week. Everyone was getting ready for the big event, arranging the lights on the palm-trees in the front yards and on the houses, hanging mistletoes on the front doors and doorways inside the houses. Some had gotten ahead of themselves, as far as Eric was concerned, and put out life-sized figurines of snowmen or a heavy bellied Santa Claus complete with sleigh and reindeers. Sometimes he wondered if it struck nobody as odd to have the replica of a man who was dressed for heavy snowfall sitting in your front yard when it was not even cold enough to warrant long sleeves. Not that some people didn't wear them nevertheless the Cuban amended when he caught sight of Ryan's dark sweatshirt. But, really, an animated snowman in a county that had not seen snow in decades? That was just ridiculous.
Eric knocked on the window to get Ryan's attention when he arrived at the car and the young man jumped in surprise.
"Don't do that!" he heard his friend chastise him through the closed door and smirked. Catching Ryan by surprise had become one of his favourite pastimes. The look on the boy's face was just so hilarious, Eric couldn't resist when the opportunity arose. Opening the passenger's door, Ryan threw Eric an evil glare before suddenly grinning.
"So, where's your laundry?"
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly the Cuban told him: "Come on in. My mother insists on meeting you."
The younger CSI eyed him apprehensively. "Why?"
"You don't ask 'Why' with my mother, Ryan," Eric explained while sliding his arm around Ryan's shoulders and leading the unwilling young man into the house. "Neither do you want to cross her plans or object to anything she has set her mind to. Believe me, you just... don't."
Amused grey eyes looked up at him. "You're not afraid of her, are you?"
A loud snort from somewhere ahead of them turned both their attention to a beautiful young woman stepping out of the bathroom a few feet away. "He would be dumb if he wasn't," Marisol, his older sister wryly commented. Smirking at her brother's glare she amended: "We all are if she has gotten it into her head to mess with our personal lives."
"And you are?" Eric almost choked on the dry question but Marisol merely laughed out loud.
"Well, at least Eric was right about your social skills." Sticking her right hand out for Ryan to shake, she introduced herself: "I'm Marisol, Eric's older sister. And you must be Ryan Wolfe."
At least Ryan had the decency to blush at his own rudeness, Eric thought, more amused than annoyed when he watched his colleague. He even offered a lopsided "Sorry," when he shook Marisol's hand in greeting.
"You're cute," his sister stated with laughter in her voice. That annoyed Eric a bit though he was not entirely sure why.
"I'll just take that as a compliment," Ryan replied, desperately fighting down his blush but chuckling nevertheless. It annoyed Eric even more that Ryan seemed to respond to his sister's obvious flirting and maybe, that wouldn't have been so odd taken into account the whole brother-sister-dynamics if he hadn't realized that he didn't want to protect Marisol from Ryan but Ryan from Marisol. And perhaps, protect wasn't the right word when it came to Ryan. He just wanted Marisol to stop hitting on his friend.
"It was meant to be." Well, no luck with that.
Turning to her brother, she repeated laughing: "He's cute."
"You said." He was not quite able to keep the surly tone out of his voice, earning him a bewildered glance from Ryan and a knowing evil grin from his sister. Oh boy, this was going to be fun.
"Ah, I thought I heard voices in the hall." Open act one scene two. Great. Once again their attention turned to a woman as his mother walked around the corner into the hallway, rubbing her hands dry on a kitchen towel. Even though Eric knew she had been cooking, she looked immaculate, her dark hair with only a few strands of silver tightly held back in a bun, her clothes a uniform black. She would be wearing black for another year, Eric knew, in respect to her late husband. His mother was so unlike Alexx in her mourning. Whereas his friend had held back her feelings, only releasing her grief months after Speed's death, Juana Delko had mourned intensely but briefly compared to the other woman. The first month after his father's death, his mother had barely left the house, eyes bloodshot and heavy every time he saw her. Now, more than two months later, she was almost back to her old self. Eric didn't make the mistake of assuming she didn't miss her husband – he himself missed his father but still he had bounced back more quickly than he had from Speed's death – she had just accepted the loss as the way things had to go despite of her own wishes.
As soon as the older woman caught sight of Ryan she headed straight for his friend, hand outstretched and stating: "So you are Ryan Wolfe. I've heard so much about you!"
"You did?" His voice sounded just a wee bit squeaky and, risking a glance at his friend Eric saw Ryan stare at his mother like a deer caught in headlights.
"Of course I did" Juana Delko confirmed, sounding almost scandalized that Ryan would think otherwise. "It's about all Eric talks about these days."
And suddenly, Eric felt the overwhelming urge to sink into a hole in the ground or, better yet, to just grab Ryan and get the hell away from his snooping, nosy, intruding relatives and never speak a word about this ever again. He could hear Marisol choke down her laughter at his burning face. What was it about family that left him blushing when nothing else could? And anyway, he did not talk about Ryan that often! Did he?
"Mama!" he groaned in embarrassment. Shooting her only son a look of amused tolerance she went back to give Ryan the once over, shaking her head and clicking her tongue reproachfully.
"Don't you feed the boy, Eric?" Excuse me? Since when did he have to feed anyone? After all, it was Ryan who was obsessed with healthy food and cooking more often than not when they spent the evening together. Like today.
"He's much too thin!" His mother continued ignoring both the look of incredulity from her son and the one of barely concealed horror Ryan gave her. It would have been funny if Eric wasn't able to feel with him so well. "That won't do. So, it's just as well, isn't it? Dinner is about ready, and I made enough for us all."
That said, she resolutely took Ryan by the arm and steered the wide-eyed young man into their dining room, all the while telling him: "Come on, chico. If Eric doesn't look after you, I'll have to make sure you gain some pounds on those ribs of yours."
Eric had to reign in some borderline hysterical laughter when Ryan shot a pleading glance back over his shoulder, silently mouthing: 'Help me!' while Juana Delko dragged him out of sight.
Laughter at his side proved that Marisol had given up her fight. She crossed the small distance to her brother and hugged him tightly for a second before chuckling once again.
"Seems like our mother has just adopted your friend, Eric."
"Yeah, but why?"
His sister looked at him for a few moments with that knowing, mischievous grin she always adopted when she thought she knew something he didn't. Then, she shook her head in exasperation and threw her hands up in the air. "Men! How you can go through life without seeing what's right in front of your eyes, I don't know!" And she stomped off heading towards the direction his mother and Ryan had disappeared to.
Shaking his head in annoyance, not even trying to figure out what Marisol had wanted to tell him with that last sentence he resigned himself to dinner with two way too inquisitive women, hoping that Ryan would forgive him once they had escaped this lion's den.
The smell of his mother's cooking somewhat consoled Eric to their behaviour though.

-tbc-

Grammar mistakes? Wrong spelling? Please tell me, how am I to improve otherwise?