A Gay Wedding and Two-Hundred Funerals
By Sky
Taped to the bulletin board, everyone who walked by eyed it carefully. Some smiled at it. Others nodded. Few ignored it.
Eric stared at it.
The invitation hadn't been addressed to a particular person, but to the lab as a whole. There was an innocent, joyous dove carrying a sprig in its beak and underneath it, perfect and dainty cursive, the names of the two people who would be joining in holy matrimony in two weeks. He inspected it for a while, not knowing why or what he would find, not knowing when or how to react, and with an inexplicable bad feeling in the pit of his stomach he walked towards the coffee machine with the intention of drowning himself in caffeine.
Moments later he stood over the sink, deep in thought, as the steam of the untouched cup of coffee disappeared into the air. There was an ant attempting to make its way across the sink and he thought maybe its hopeless journey was the cause of his newfound gloom, but something told him he didn't actually care that much about a lone ant. He tried to convince himself that the mood shift had nothing to do with the invitation taped to the bulletin board, but the truth was it was all he could think about as he stood there alone, subconsciously rooting for an intrepid, yet stupid, ant.
Which wasn't nearly as stupid as his new demure and the idiotic reason for it.
Just a fancy piece of paper, silver ink, not more than 4x5 inches wide, and yet its presence felt gargantuan and stifling and Eric had no idea why. Tiny piece of paper. Impersonal and irrelevant. And the more he tried to ignore it, the bigger the letters seemed to get, the brighter and louder and the more confusing its big, joyous announcement.
Tyler Jensen was getting married, and Eric didn't know how to react to the news.
He was rationally happy for his friend, proud, glad. And yet he was also instinctively... something. Something irrational, he knew and knew he should let it go, but the smile he'd sported while walking into the lab was slowly dying and he found his spirits were diminishing. Somberly, he walked out of the break room, leaving his cup of coffee behind, the ant unaided, and minutes later stood over a table in the layout room, inspecting a set of fingerprints, hoping it would be one of those rare days when he didn't have to leave the lab.
Because he knew for a fact it was dangerous out there when the mind was somewhere else. So he took refuge in the lab and avoided Horatio at all times (which wasn't hard, he mainly stayed away from the hallways). He busied himself with paperwork, fingerprint identification and left the rest to the other CSIs. For the most part it seemed like a quiet day, and no one seemed to have any comments pertaining the impending wedding. No one seemed to spend the entire day thinking about it. No one but him. At one point he could hear his one-time therapist's voice in his head, speaking of facing his emotions and trying to stop them from overwhelming him, but he could do little to prevent his mind from going to that place.
Some days he couldn't believe it'd been nearly three years since Speed passed away. Sometimes he walked into the lab and still expected to be greeted by a grunt under a few layers of facial hair. Sometimes he swore he could hear The Ramones blaring in the layout room. Every time he screwed up, or said something relatively stupid, he expected someone to stand up and call him an idiot, and then smile sardonically at his embarrassment. It was slightly masochistic, but what he wouldn't give to have all of it back.
But very little of his old life remained when Speed died. It'd never been the same, and would never be the same. In the beginning, he thought Ryan might be able to fill Speed's shoes, but he quickly found out that would never be the case. Ryan and Speed were as different as night and day. His relationship with Ryan could be described as tumultuous at best; every time they took two steps in the right direction, one of them would come to work in a bad mood and together they'd take four steps back. And he wasn't trying to find a second Speedle in Ryan. He just missed the companionship. He missed the camaraderie. He missed the friendship and the ten beers after work and trying to decide who would pay for the taxi ride home and arguing over whose couch smelled more of beer and ass.
No one seemed to bring it up as he was getting ready to go home. No one talked about it as he walked out of the lab. He was the only one who couldn't stop thinking about it, but was at least able to put it out of his mind that night with the aid of a six pack of Dos Equis and a string of bad Steven Seagal movies on television.
Just a tiny piece of paper. White and dainty. Yet during the course of the next couple of days the whole lab began to get affected by it in one way or the other. Those who remained ignorant even after three years were rejoicing, happy, trying to decide what to wear and how to get there and what it would be like. Those who knew, really knew the reason why perhaps he felt so odd inside, merely smiled to themselves whenever someone made mention of the approaching event. There weren't many of them: himself, Calleigh, Horatio, Alexx and Valera. Except the others were having a hell of a better time than him with this new knowledge that Tyler was getting married, yet he wasn't getting married to Speed.
"I didn't know gay people were allowed to get married," Dan Cooper said in the break room days later, carefully removing the pickles off his sandwich.
"They're not," Ryan said.
"Yes they can. Of course they can," Calleigh said quickly and quickly returned her attention to her spinach salad. "Just because it's not recognized by the state or the church."
Ryan frowned. "Doesn't that, by sheer logic, not make it a matrimony?"
"Why?"
Ryan blinked. "Because the government says so?"
"You mean the same government that deemed your parents fit to procreate?" Eric said as he sat next to Calleigh, setting his lunch on the table. "Yeah, that's the same government I want telling me who I can or can't marry."
Ryan merely sneered at his sarcasm and returned his attention to his half-eaten lunch.
"A marriage is the union of two people who are in love," Calleigh said sternly. "Who cares about the intervention of a piece of paper or a ring or a priest."
"I don't know," Ryan said. "I think I would."
"What on earth for? What's the difference?"
"Just..." Ryan said, sighing at the faces looking at him expectantly. "I don't know, it's tradition."
"I could do without," Cooper said and they all looked at him. "I mean, what's the appeal? You have to make out with someone in front of all these people and God, and then the same people attack you with rice, and then you go to some dingy locale where your uncle Murray strains his back trying to do the chicken dance... and then you get into a car and drive away as your family stands there, cheering because you're finally going to get laid... it's embarrassing. Marriage is why Vegas was built. You wanna get married? Do it in front of a coked up Elvis and leave the rest to good fortune."
Calleigh furrowed her eyebrows and could feel her appetite promptly fading away. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."
"What's the saddest thing you've ever heard?" Valera said as she walked into the room.
"Coop's love life," Eric said.
Valera smiled. "Sad is not a word I'd use. Personally, I'd go for tragedy."
"I feel worse for the woman who'll have to actually marry him."
"Come on, guys," Dan said loudly, corned beef hanging off the side of his mouth. "I'm sitting right here."
"Don't worry, it's not like Cooper will be getting married any time soon," Ryan said. "Not until they finally legalize marriages between men and their Princess Leia cardboard cutouts, anyway."
Dan huffed, put his sandwich down and re-directed his attention to Ryan. "Hey, I don't see you making any headway with the ladies."
"The ladies? Should you be wearing your Members Only jacket when you say that and combing your mullet?" Ryan said.
"Vintage, man. In 50 years those will be worth a pretty penny."
"Not if it's stained with Mountain Dew and Cheeto marks."
"See, this is where it gets entertaining," Valera whispered to Eric and Calleigh, watching the scuffle intently.
"It's like watching two blind people competing to see who can put together a 5,000 piece puzzle faster," Eric said. "For a moment there it's exciting, and then it's just sad."
Valera looked at Calleigh. "Tyler's wedding, I take it?"
"Yup?
As Dan and Ryan continued to bicker, Valera took the opportunity to steal Dan's plate away, and as she began to put the pickles back into his sandwich she asked Calleigh. "Have you met his boyfriend?"
"Yeah," Calleigh said thoughtfully, and Eric knew he was the only one who understood her hesitation. She looked at him quickly and he looked down.
"He's nice."
Tyler was getting married, and Eric didn't know what that meant. Sure, he understood the meaning of marriage, the union between a man and a woman (or in this case, a man and a man). It was the part where Tyler was getting married that he was having some problems with. It was the part where Tyler wasn't marrying Speed. Not that Speed would wanna partake in this tradition. If he were alive he'd probably scorn at it, call it a useless rite lured, romanticized, and eventually murdered by the wedding dress industry.
A true romantic, Eric would call him. Speed would merely mumble and continue processing whatever it was he was working on at the moment.
He was happy for Tyler. He really was. Finding love in this day and age, finding someone who will love you and accept you for who you are, Eric wasn't sure half the population had the privileged. Tyler had it once, and yet it was taken away from him in an instant. He was happy. He was glad Tyler was able to let go and find someone else.
It didn't mean he understood it. Didn't mean he actually grasped the concept of replacing the love of your life, or whatever they wanna call it, with another one.
And no one else seemed to be having a hard time with it. Not those in the 'know', anyway. Valera seemed to care more about finding the perfect dress, Alexx only intended to make a brief appearance and Horatio... Eric couldn't begin to imagine what went on in his boss's head. Calleigh, well, Calleigh let very little of herself filter through.
"Hey," she said as she walked into the fingerprint room one afternoon, and Eric couldn't ignore her cheerful bounce, couldn't ignore its alleged origin.
Word around the lab, or at least Valera's DNA lab, said Calleigh had been seeing someone recently. Eric tried to keep his mind off of it, and when he wasn't successful he tried to convince himself he was happy for her. It'd been a while since Calleigh dated someone who wasn't a complete asshole, and if her new boyfriend treated her well, he wasn't one to rain on her parade for whatever personal reasons.
He was happy for her. He was, really. Except for the part where he really wasn't.
"Are you going to the wedding?"
Eric shook his head, looking down. "I don't know. I have stuff to do, this case..."
He'd always been a bad liar. He was sure it'd been some sort of defect that had been passed on to him while in the womb. Some days he was able to keep a straight face, at least, but it was futile when he found himself lying to Calleigh. Whenever he did, or at least tried, he could picture her drawing out her gun and that's when he lost it. He'd look down and avoid eye contact and that was his biggest tell, one she knew well.
This time, however, she didn't get mad. This time she merely put her hand on his arm and walked away and for that Eric was glad. If he was a bad liar he was even worse at talking about his complicated feelings, and these feelings, regarding Tyler's wedding, were definitely complex enough to incite a string of headaches.
Of course he knew what the root of the problem was. He missed Speed. He missed having a close friend he could talk to about anything. Most days he tried to convince himself that he still had Calleigh, but his relationship with her changed with the passing of each day, became too complicated. Not that Speed ever liked playing Lucy to his Charlie Brown. "Be a fucking man and just tell her already," he'd say, and Eric was sure that wasn't going to help him. It would still help to have someone to talk to, however, someone who understood, someone who would just pass him a beer and pat him on the shoulder with a, "sucks, dude," and help him fry his own brain with too much television and beer.
And it bothered him that he was the only one who felt this way. It bothered him that he was the only person in the lab who still hurt at the mention of Speed's name. Everyone else seemed to move on too quickly, leaving him behind struggling to keep up. Everyone else started smiling too soon, laughing too soon, not missing him enough.
Not missing him enough. No one ever missed him enough. No one ever mentioned his name, or smiled at the old memories. No one ever looked at his old locker with a deep sense of loss (except him), no one did anything to try and keep his memory alive. In this regard he felt like a man lost at sea, unwilling to swim to the shore, knowing that if he did, all thought and memory of Speed would sink into the dark, vast sea, lost forever.
"It's weird, huh?" Valera said with her eyes glued to the microscope's lens days later as he waited for a sample.
"What's weird?" Eric said.
"Tyler getting married," she said thoughtfully. "It's like... some days I forget Speed is gone, you know?"
He looked at her, wondering just how much Valera knew, wondering if despite her crazy girl exterior there was someone deeper inside, someone wiser, someone who might actually understand his feelings. He merely shook his head and looked down. "Yeah."
"And I guess this sort of confirms it," she added.
He didn't wanna tell her that technically getting shot to death had been confirmation enough. Sometimes, when dealing with Valera, it's best to just go along.
The days neared and he didn't know what he'd been expecting. Maybe a little more excitement, a little more gossip, but no one around the lab seemed to talk about it. And so that day he sat on his couch, watching daytime television and entertaining thoughts of renting a movie, ordering a pizza, and buying some beer, spend his Saturday night alone and trying not to think of the wedding.
Some time that afternoon he realized how pathetic it was, how empty his life had become. Five years ago he'd be getting ready to go out to some trendy club, drawing in his mind a map of which bars he would hit, which bars he would not, which bars had become a happening place in the span of one or two days, which bars weren't worth it anymore. He realized at that moment he couldn't name the latest trendy club if he tried, and the thought made him feel uneasy. Growth, they probably called it. Maturity. He felt it was something else entirely.
Turning the television off, he walked into his room and opened his closet. Staring at it, he sighed.
"You better be right," he said aloud to no one in particular and reached for his suit.
He decided to forego the ceremony, because the last thing he wanted was to mix Speed and priests, ensuing memories of his funeral. The reception took place in a happening locale downtown, and he wondered where Tyler got the money to rent this place. Something about his boyfriend (now husband), Eric had heard. Apparently the guy was loaded. Eric didn't give it a second thought. Leave the gossip to Valera.
But the place was buzzing with energy, full of gay men who weren't discreet when Eric walked into the club, and eyed him hungrily all the way. He ignored them - he'd always been open minded enough not to care - and walked inside, quickly realizing the best man was in the middle of his speech. A waitress walked by holding a tray and he stole from her a flute of champagne.
As the best man gave his speech, Eric spotted her near a column, leaning against it and wearing a black dress with just enough cleavage to turn any of these men straight. Her hair was down and she held a flute of champagne in her hand with immense femininity. She looked gorgeous. She was also sporting her beau, some plastic surgeon from South Beach with sandy brown hair and a perfect smile.
She looked happy. He never imagined Calleigh's happiness could make him so miserable.
"So, to Tyler and Maxwell, may your days of happiness be as infinite as your love. Cheers."
He forced a smile and drank most of the champagne in one gulp as everyone clapped around him. It was the good stuff of course, he knew gay men didn't mess around with their wines and champagnes, but he put the rest of it away as he looked around.
Calleigh still stood by the column, talking to her... whatever, and he tore his eyes away from her to look around the room. Tyler and his husband were standing behind a white table, taking turns embracing their best man. A long line was already forming to congratulate the couple, so he inserted his hands into his pockets and decided to approach them later. Ryan and Cooper were sitting by the cake, looking both nervous and bored. Eric smiled briefly, knowing the source of their discomfort, and began to make his way over when a voice caught his attention.
His heart did a little somersault now that he had her in front of him. Another one followed it and his cheeks turned red at the amount of cleavage she yielded. He was no stranger to Calleigh cleavage - she'd never been hesitant to try anything to get a confession out of a suspect, but this was different. This was Little Black Dress Cleavage, adorned by a silver chain and a circled pendant. He tried not to look in that area, knowing she'd neuter him right there, right in front of everyone. Her stupid boyfriend might have something to say about it, too, but Eric could take him.
So he smiled politely, keeping his hands in his pockets, and her boyfriend, who'd been looking around, turned in his direction quickly.
She didn't seem to notice, and smiled brightly. "I thought you weren't coming?"
Eric smirked. "Well, when you hear the words 'gay' and 'wedding' put together it's kinda hard to resist," he joked.
Calleigh chuckled and placed an arm on her date. "This is Perry Marsh. Perry, this is my partner, Eric Delko."
Eric shook the man's hand. Nice, firm grip. Clean, almost girly hands. Probably his pride and joy. Eric briefly wondered what would happen if he 'accidentally' broke the man's fingers. He nearly smiled at the thought. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
Calleigh looked at the two men, feeling a strange, almost compulsive need to step in between them. Trying her hardest to appear cool, she smiled. "Where's your date?"
Eric looked down at her, amused by the fact that even on her highest heels, she still couldn't make it past his chin. "No date. Have that purification process."
Calleigh smiled, while her date looked down at her. Swirling his glass of wine around, and feeling slightly left out, he cleared his throat and turned to Eric. "Well, maybe you'll meet someone here tonight."
"Right. I did, actually," Eric said. "She parked my car and aligned my tires. Didn't rotate them, though. We're taking it slow."
Calleigh laughed, but quickly found herself without a chorus. She looked at Perry and found him smiling tightly at his drink. "Get it? It's a gay wedding."
"Yes," Perry said dryly.
Eric nodded, and while Calleigh looked at her date and her date looked at his wine, he felt the tension of the world threatening to blow up the room. "Well, I better go say hi to Tyler."
Calleigh smiled, though her attention seemed to be somewhere else. "Okay."
He walked away, all the while feeling two pairs of eyes glued to his back.
Tyler was in a corner, greeting his guests and introducing his boyfriend – or husband – to some of them. Eric took a long look at the beau – blonde hair, tall, lanky – and something within him burned with resentment.
Speed would hate this. Every second of it. He'd be sitting by a table in the back, grumbling at his drink and crowd watching. In the many years that he knew him, Eric had only been able to drag him to one of his sister's weddings, and the whole time Speed sat near the bar, looking down at his drink and turning down all the ladies' advances, much to Eric's confusion and chagrin.
"Dude, I know she's my cousin and she's no Carmen Electra, but—" "Dude, I'm gay."
He smiled at the memory. It'd taken him a while to get over Speed's surprising confession, mostly because the guy just never looked gay to Eric. Ever. Eric always thought he was just grouchy. But soon after that it all began to make sense - the dry humor, the sarcasm, the conspicuous absence of women in his life...
"Given the right amount of alcohol I might do a chick, but the right amount of alcohol basically means me passing out and her doing all the work."
So that was that. Their relationship remained the same and their friendship never suffered. Soon afterwards, Tyler started working at the lab, and Eric remembered snickering that one afternoon many years ago when he saw them leaving the lab together, and Speed arriving at work the next day wearing the same clothes...
Moments later he found himself in a table by the cake, sandwiched between Ryan and Dan Cooper. Eric tried to engage in conversation, but found himself staring at the centerpiece dully instead, listening to them drone on and on endlessly.
"I thought Horatio was coming," Dan said.
Ryan tapped his fingers on the table and looked around the room curiously. "He had a funeral to go to."
"Another one?"
"I know. Does he even know these people?"
"For five minutes. I guess that's all it takes to be eligible for funeral attendance."
"I don't get funeral crashings."
"I hear they have good cheese."
"Really?"
"Gouda and the like."
"Gouda. Goooooooouda. That's a funny word for cheese. Gooooouda. What kind of word is it?"
"German? Or Dutch or something."
"Anyway. How many funerals do you think he's been to?"
"Probably two hundred by now."
"That's a lot of cheese."
"Excuse me," Eric finally said, annoyed, and left the table.
He looked across the room, but Tyler was still speaking to his guests, laughing happily. Calleigh was nowhere to be found, and he didn't want to think about the implications of that. Instead, he decided to try and drink himself to death.
On his way to the bar, Valera whisked past him quickly, holding a pink drink in her hands and acting giddy. She reached Ryan and Cooper's table and laughed as she fell on an empty seat.
"God, I love gay weddings," she said, removing her shoes and dropping her legs onto Ryan's lap, ignoring or overlooking his shock. "Look, I got a pedicure in the men's room!"
Ryan looked down at her feet, somewhat alarmed but trying to conceal it. She wiggled her toes and her perfectly painted nails shined under the lights of the room. He tried to act casual, but it was hard to maintain it when a part of him recoiled at idea of icky feet germs, while the other part wondered what it would be like to slide his hand up her perfect porcelain leg and under her skirt...
Confused by the imagery, he shook his head and snapped out of his reverie. Valera removed her legs from his lap and strapped her heels on again.
"What are you guys doing here, anyway? You haven't left the table once."
"We're just crowd watching," Dan said casually.
"Yup."
Valera looked at the two men suspiciously. "You know interacting with gay people doesn't necessarily make you gay, right?"
"Of course."
"Duh."
"So why is it that you haven't left the table to even go to the bathroom?" she said curiously.
Dan and Ryan looked at each other before they both nodded and looked away. "Don't have to pee."
"Me neither."
Valera rolled her eyes and stood up. "You're both pathetic." Before leaving something caught her attention and she approached Ryan, putting her hands on the side of his face. He tensed up instantly, and unaware of his reaction, she swept her thumbs along his bushy eyebrows. "We should go in the men's room—"
His eyes widened to the size of mangoes.
"—they'll take care of those eyebrows for you," she finished, and just as casually walked away and disappeared into the festive crowd.
Ryan frowned at her retrieving form and looked down. Feelings his eyebrows with his fingers, he turned to Dan. "Are my eyebrows okay?"
Dan grimaced. "Dude, I'm in a gay wedding. I don't feel comfortable answering that question."
"Touché," Ryan said, sipping from his champagne.
"Gay word," Dan added and Ryan grumbled. Dan smiled and looked around, and Valera was sandwiched between two gay men, and they were dancing to some techno number. Dan smiled and inched closer to Ryan. "Hey, Valera's pretty hot, huh?"
Ryan looked at him, not knowing how to react to that. He gulped and frowned. "What?"
"Valera. She's hot," Dan repeated with a smug smile.
Ryan shook his head and scratched his forehead with his thumb. "I don't... I don't... I guess..."
"You think she'd go out with me?"
Ryan chuckled, though he didn't want to. It made him appear arrogant when he was merely confused. "I don't—"
"I think I'm gonna ask her out," Dan said with a newfound determination, looking in Valera's direction, and she was laughing at something one of the men were telling her.
Ryan smiled falsely, bit his lip and squint his eyes. He didn't like this conversation, though presently he had no idea why. "I, uh, I don't know if you're her type, Coop."
Dan looked at him with an inquisitive look on his face. "What's her type?"
Ryan smiled tightly and looked around. "I don't... know."
"Then how do you know I'm not it?" Dan added, his tone pressing.
Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, smiling tightly and rubbing his hands together. "You sure you wanna go out with Valera? I mean, she's kinda crazy."
Dan smiled suggestively. "Well, you know what they say, crazy in the head, crazy in the—"
"Stop," Ryan said abruptly.
"What? I'm just saying," Dan said.
Ryan frowned at him. "She's our co-worker and friend, don't talk about her like that."
Dan sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, I don't know. She's hot, she's smart, she's funny—wouldn't be a complete torture to go out with her."
Ryan shook his head quickly, looking at his drink. "I just, I don't know. I just can't see it. Techies dating techies—"
"What's wrong with techies?"
"Nothing! Hey, you guys are great," Ryan said too earnestly. "I just feel like—"
Dan frowned quickly. "You feel like I'm an idiot and I could never have her."
"No, that's not what I said," Ryan said defensively.
"But it's what you meant," Dan said, and with a newfound determination rose from his seat and straightened his velvet jacket. "Well, hold on to your eyebrows, Skipper, cause before this night ends I'm walking out of here with Valera in one arm and a bag of leftover meatballs hanging off the other."
The lab tech huffed and walked away, leaving Ryan alone, shaking his head.
Dan scurried into the crowd, carelessly pushing people out of the way in a fury. He was so sick of people undermining him, of everyone thinking he was nothing but a buffoon. Well, he was gonna show them. If not tonight, then soon. And who did Ryan think he was, anyway? It's not like the guy was constantly swimming in panties. In the years he'd been at the lab, he'd only been able to sleep with one woman, and he didn't even like her, anyway. Sure, that was one woman more than Dan had slept with, but hell, he was no Eric Delko.
It was all going to change, he thought as he continued to walk into people messily. He was determined tonight to show Valera he was a man worthy of her attention, a strong man, a sensible man, a shameless man... no matter how much begging it took.
"Hey, my hands!" Perry called after him angrily, but Dan didn't look back. Perry scoffed and frowned at Calleigh. "Who is that idiot?"
Calleigh looked in the direction Dan had gone to and shook her head conspicuously. "I don't kn... I don't know him."
"Well, he needs to watch out," Perry said, looking at his hands, and thankfully they weren't hurt.
Calleigh looked at him, and she never really knew hands were that important until she met Perry. Sure, she liked her hands. They were useful for things like picking up objects, scratching one-self, firing guns, and God knows she could always talk her fingers into distracting her from the empty side of her bed during those lonely nights. But it was different with Perry. The man seemed to have a love affair with his hands. He was careful with them, took care of them as if they were babies and constantly moisturized. She knew he depended on them. As a surgeon, they were his livelihood. It was still a tad... disconcerting.
"Anyway, this woman is standing there, one boob looking at me and the other one pointing to the floor, and she tells me 'Doctor, I haven't let my husband touch my breasts since we had the baby, which by the way, was 14 years ago...'"
Calleigh nodded and tried to follow along, but it was hard when she knew she had very little interest in rhinoplasty, silicone breasts, botox, and tummy tucks. Plastic surgery... she'd never really been too fond of it, something she told Perry right at the beginning of their first date and he seemed to be fine with it. For some reason, it still didn't stop him from talking about his work every chance he got.
As he talked, her eyes quickly scanned the room and Valera seemed to be having a really good time, while Ryan sat by a table pretending not to watch her. Tyler and Maxwell were still thanking their guests, and another quick glance revealed Eric by the bar.
She quickly looked at Perry again, graced him with a smile as he talked, and she couldn't control her eyes from drifting again in Eric's direction. He looked good, she noticed. Clean shaven, new haircut, and wearing a black suit with a black, brown, and burgundy stripped tie. She rarely got to see him like this, save for the rare moments when he had to testify in court, and even then she would only allow herself a few glances and nothing more. Safer that way. But tonight, he looked good.
He also looked thoughtful. Thoughtful wasn't the right word, but she realized it was the safest. She knew he'd been having some problems with the idea of Tyler getting married, but she found she didn't quite know how to approach it. Three years ago she might've confronted him about it, taken him somewhere private to talk, but the thought of doing that now made her nervous still.
After Jake things seemed to wane, somewhat. She tried every day to make their relationship what it used to be, but it didn't take her long to realize that may never happen. Her feelings for Eric, though rarely acknowledged, were too stubborn and complex. Their lives were too complex. He seemed to realize that somewhere along the way as well, and though this new distance between them made her feel safe, at the same time she felt an immense lack of something in her life. Whether it was brought on by the emotional gap between them or not, she couldn't tell. She missed him, but didn't know how to tell him, and didn't want to deal with the emotional consequences of such a confession.
"Dammit," Perry said and quickly checked the wailing pager on his belt. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," he added, gently placing a hand on her arm.
"No problem," Calleigh smiled.
"I'll be right back, five minutes." He kissed the side of her forehead and dug around in his pocket for his cell phone as he walked away. Calleigh stood there, looking around, and promptly turned to see Eric getting his drink re-filled. She hesitated, not knowing what to think or do, and taking a deep breath she decided to just be amiable and walk over. Nothing wrong with two friends catching up, she told herself.
She smiled at Ryan as he walked past her, but the young CSI didn't seem to notice. Instead, he looked around the room a little nervously. The line for the food was getting long, but he paid little attention to that. He scanned the people that walked around, barely recognizing anyone from the lab. Alexx had shown up for the ceremony, but apparently one of her kids was sick and she quickly had to go. Horatio had to attend a funeral, and Ryan was pretty sure Natalia was with him, her first child murder case. Ryan felt bad for her, remembering the first time he had to dig the body of a child out of a lake and feeling the ensuing anger and angst... at least she had Horatio there to walk her through it.
As he walked a few men looked at him and he felt uncomfortable. He liked to think he was as open minded as the next guy, but it still made him feel uneasy. Eric was by the bar, being ogled at by tens of men, but the Cuban didn't seem to mind (or notice) at all. Ryan envied that.
But he quickly put it out of his mind as he spotted Valera, holding an empty plate in her hands. He smiled and approached her. She was wearing a slinky green dress that brought out the color of her eyes (not that he knew the color of her eyes - not that he paid attention to that at all - not that he even cared) and her hair was a bit wild, her bangs pinned to the side by a silver broach. It was weird to see her like this. Weird was the only adjective he allowed himself to use.
"Hey," he said near her ear.
She looked back at him and smiled brightly. "Hey, Ryan. You having a good time?"
"Yeah... I, uh... okay," he said hesitantly, looking at the food. "Getting some food there?"
Valera frowned. "Yeah," she laughed. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
Ryan didn't say anything, but inserted his hands into his pockets and tried to act casual. "Speaking of food, Cooper is going to ask you out."
"What?" Valera gasped, looking around, but couldn't see Dan anywhere. She turned to Ryan again. "He told you that?"
"He thinks you're pretty hot," Ryan said, smiling.
Valera grinned. "Wow."
Ryan laughed, looking around. "Yeah. Can you believe it?"
Her smile turned opaque and bitter. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Ryan looked at her. "What?"
"That laugh."
He gulped nervously. What just happened? "What laugh?"
"Are you laughing at me?" she said, her tone bitter.
Ryan shook his head quickly, feeling like he'd just stepped into quicksand. "No, of course not."
But Valera began to look less and less happy and more furious. "You think it's funny that Cooper thinks I'm hot?"
"No," Ryan said defensively, trying to backpedal and yet not knowing how. "I mean, yeah, kind of, in a—"
"Unbelievable," Valera scoffed.
"I just think that..." Ryan stammered. "I just think it's silly that he's into you—"
"Why?" she interrupted him. "What is wrong with Cooper that he might like me? Does that make him stupid or something?"
"Uh, no. Being Cooper sort of takes care of that on its own," Ryan said, smiling at his own joke, but Valera put her plate down and began to walk away.
"I'm glad you're having a good laugh at his expense, Ryan," she said angrily.
Ryan sighed. "Valera, come on. That's not what I meant."
"Great," she said bitterly. "I hear Cooper's looking for me, anyway."
"Valera!"
It was futile. She disappeared into the crowd and Ryan was left standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.
"Oooooh, sister, you really ruined that one," a trannie said next to him, looking in the direction Valera had left. Sadly he turned to Ryan and frowned, inched closer, making the CSI feel uncomfortable. The man/woman quickly produced a pair of tweezers from his pocket and tried to nab at Ryan's eyebrows before Ryan quickly jumped out of his way and walked away in search of Valera.
Who was on her way to the bar and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the one person she was looking for walk past her.
"Hey, Cal, can I talk—"
"Can you give me a minute?" Calleigh said quickly and continued walking. She didn't see Valera sigh in frustration and walk away, rather she approached Eric hesitantly and sat in the empty stool next to his. The bartender quickly came over and offered her a drink, which she graciously declined.
And so the silence began, and it didn't take long for it to get a tad awkward. She hated this, could still remember a time when they could sit next to each other in silence for hours upon hours and with the greatest of ease. Nowadays it seemed like everything could incite that peculiar tension to make an appearance and try as she might, she couldn't prevent it.
"You missed the ceremony," she told him without looking over, her fingers playing with a wet napkin on the bar.
Eric shrugged his shoulders. "How was it?"
"Nice," she said, smiling. "Strangely romantic."
He smirked, looking at his drink before he took another sip. A moment passed before he found himself asking, "where's your boyfriend?"
Though he wasn't looking at her, she felt the need to look away. "Outside, making a phone call." He didn't say anything else, but the way he nodded and the bitter smile that appeared on his face, she found those irrational feelings returning again - anger and frustration and a million other little things.
She shook her head, her eyes back on the wet napkin. "Is it gonna be like this from now on?"
He didn't reply, but continued looking at the bar as the silence stretched, and without a warning he put his drink down and began to stand up. "I think I'm gonna go."
Calleigh frowned, watching his every move. "You just got here."
"I just wanted to see Tyler," he explained morosely.
He was avoiding eye contact again. Why? She didn't know, but it was one of his biggest tells. "You haven't even talked to him."
"Yeah."
She watched him, trying to figure out what was going on through his mind, but the gap that had built between them over the last few months had somehow rendered her incapable of reading him as well as she used to. Behind them, the crowd suddenly got really loud, and Calleigh looked over with little interest. Apparently a dancing train had formed, and for some reason she didn't give the sight of a desperate Ryan trying to get away from it a second thought. Instead, her mind was confined to the present situation and the man standing in front of him, leaving a few dollars on the bar as a tip.
Quickly she took a deep breath and began to reach for his arm. "Eric—"
"Hey," Perry said as he returned, and he looked stressed out. Calleigh shifted uncomfortably in her seat while Eric tried really hard not to roll his eyes. "That was the hospital."
"Is everything okay?" Calleigh asked.
"No," Perry said with another sigh. "Mrs. McNeal had a reaction to her botox, she had to be rushed into the emergency room."
"Aw," Calleigh said as sympathetically as she could, though secretly she felt very little sympathy for botox queens such as Mrs. McNeal, who had the stuff practically running through her veins.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to go," he said.
Calleigh straightened up. "Oh, well—"
He quickly cut her off. "I mean, if you wanna stay—"
"No, it's fine," she said dismissively.
"I mean, I might be a while and I don't—" he continued, "it's your friend's wedding, I don't wanna ruin your fun."
Calleigh smiled. "It's okay."
"No, stay."
"No, really."
"Somebody please make a decision," Eric said, the frustration evident in his tone.
Perry smiled tightly at him and turned to Calleigh. "Stay. Really, it's okay."
Calleigh smiled. "Okay, sure. I can hitch a ride with someone."
Perry looked at Eric and suddenly grew uncertain. "Um, why don't you keep the car, actually? I'll just call a cab."
"Yeah?" Calleigh said carefully.
"I've had three glasses of wine," Perry said. "I shouldn't drive, anyway."
"Okay," Calleigh said and turned around, quickly noticing Eric had walked away. She bit her lip and looked down, trying to hide the feeling of disappointment that brought up, but then turned to Perry and smiled. "I'll walk you out."
They began to walk away, his thoughts on botox, hers on Eric and guilt and everything else.
"Calleigh," Valera said impatiently as she appeared next to her.
"I'll be right back," Calleigh told her and disappeared.
Valera stood there, feeling anxious and somewhat crappy after her encounter with Ryan. God, he could drive her up a wall. It's like somewhere between his brain and his mouth there were no yellow lights - he thought of crap, and crap came out of his mouth. It frustrated her, how utterly insufferable he could be. Sometimes she just wanted to punch him in the face, push him on the floor, and kick him in the nads until they popped out of his mouth.
"Maxine?"
She closed her eyes and frowned, biting her lower lip, before she slowly turned around to face Cooper with an uncertain smile. He looked hesitant and nervous, and she felt pity for him, but somehow this was all connected to Ryan and the frustration came right back.
"Yeah?"
"I just wanted to tell you that..." he paused, clearing his throat and standing up straight. He looked nervous, and there was a layer of sweat glistening on his forehead. His bow tie was crocked. When he spoke, he spoke too loudly. "Since the dawning of time, men and women have been coming together for one sole yet imperative purpose: propagating the species."
Valera grimaced and looked around, looking for an easy exit. Nothing but gay men dancing and commiserating, Eric sulking in a corner, and she wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she could sense an extra pair of eyes watching them.
Dan continued his heartfelt speech. "And so, tonight, I, a man, come to you, a woman, in an attempt to--"
She quickly closed her eyes and shook her head. "Um, Coop?"
He stopped, looking at her earnestly. "Yeah?"
"I, uh..." she hesitated, trying to avoid eye contact, trying to think fast. It only worked halfway. "I really have to... pee."
"Oh," he nodded, his enthusiasm gone.
There. That look. Like a child being told his dog had to be euthanized, only the child had no idea what the word 'euthanized' meant. Just confusion and disappointment and God, she felt bad. "So, I'm gonna—I'm gonna go do that."
"Pee," he said.
"Yes," Valera said. "The bathroom is right there so I'll just... I'll just go pee."
"Okay," Dan said and smiled. "Have fun... peeing," he finished awkwardly, smacking his forehead in frustration when she was out of sight.
Valera walked away, cursing at herself, and Ryan watched her, somehow pleased by how that turned out, and yet in a way he felt bad. Bad and confused. Mostly confused. He had no idea why this bothered him so much. He wasn't sure that 'bother' was the right word here, but he felt... God damn it, the thought of Dan and Valera together made him damn uneasy. Hell, the thought of Dan with any woman made him uneasy, but he didn't know why it bothered him even more that it was Valera.
Because a while back, he thought she liked him. The bickering, the fights, the bitterness... she frustrated him in a way no one could. She was uninhibited, full of life, wasn't at all ashamed to wear her heart on her sleeve. And then Nick came along, and his delusions quickly disappeared. In the end it'd been just that, an idea, something to consider, but quickly it dissolved into nothing.
Or so he thought.
Morosely, he walked towards the bar and picked out a stool. "What kind of beer do you have?"
The bartender raised an eyebrow at him and laughed.
"Right," Ryan sighed. "Just pour some vodka into a cup, easy on the pink dye."
He felt an abrupt hand on his shoulder, and quickly turned around. Bad idea. Dan was standing there, and he didn't look pleased.
"Hey, how did it go?" Ryan asked him, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"What do you think you're trying to do?" Dan said sharply.
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, don't play dumb."
"What?"
"I saw you talking to her," Dan said rather loudly, his anger evident. "You're trying to cockblock me!"
At the loud confession a few men turned around. One of them grinned suggestively.
Ryan grabbed Dan's arm and guided him away. "Would you keep your voice down? That is not a safe word to use at a gay wedding!"
Dan let go of his arm and huffed. "You are not interested in Valera. So this little game that you're playing? It's not fun, Ryan."
Ryan sighed. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about, okay? I work with Valera, we're friends. Or am I not allowed to talk to her now?"
"That is not what you're doing. You're filling her head with hateful propaganda."
"Whatever is in Valera's head now, I can guarantee you I didn't put there."
Dan crossed his arms in front of him. "Why do you care if we go out?"
"I don't," Ryan denied, though a little too hard.
"Then stop trying to sabotage me," Dan exclaimed.
Ryan sighed again, looking around. Trying to clear his head, he put his hands on his hips and looked at Dan. "Look, I'm just trying to protect you from an embarrassing situation?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dan said bitterly.
"Valera isn't into you, Coop."
Dan stopped, hearing the words but he didn't want to believe them, and so he became more angry and resentful of the guy standing in front of him. "What the hell do you know what Valera feels?"
"Alright, forget it, okay? I just know," Ryan said dismissively.
"Oh, let me guess, she's into you?" Dan said and chuckled disbelievingly. "You are such an arrogant, egomaniacal asshole, you know that?"
"Alright, settle down."
"You don't care about her, you don't even like her," Dan said. "So what's this about?"
"I don't—"
"You don't want her, but you don't want anyone else to have her, either? You are every 80s movie cliché."
Ryan frowned. "What?"
Dan sighed. "You know... the bad boy who chases after the nice girl only to get bored with her easily and break her heart... It's only in every other Brat Pack movie," he said arrogantly.
Ryan shook his head. "Wow, I would not advertise that knowledge."
"Just leave her alone," Dan said, definitively. "She doesn't need any grief, much less from you."
He didn't wait for Ryan's reaction. He merely walked away, feeling furious, knocking into somebody on his way to the bar.
"Hey!" Calleigh called after him, "be careful." But he ignored her. She grumbled something under her breath, quickly scanning the room, and when she didn't recognize anyone she headed straight to the bathroom, glad that there were barely any women here because she needed an empty room to sit, and think, and unthink. She didn't have such luck.
Valera saw her walk in and sighed impatiently. "Where were you?"
"Outside," Calleigh said, closing the door behind her. "What's going on?"
Valera approached her quickly with an alarmed look on her face. "I think Dan wants me to have a baby with him!"
"What?" Calleigh whispered back.
Valera inched closer. "He said something about the species and how men and women need to procreate--God, Calleigh, what should I do?"
Calleigh shook her head quickly and moved to the sinks. "Do you like him?"
"No," Valera said quickly, following her and leaning against a stall. "I mean, he's nice and all--"
"Well, just--tell him that."
"I can't, it'll break his heart," Valera sighed.
Calleigh smiled. "He's been rejected enough times, Valera. He'll bounce back."
"Yeah," Valera said thoughtfully, thinking about it for a while. True, Dan was rejected by women practically on a daily basis. The man had no tact at all. Not to mention he was a 28-year-old nerd who spent a lot of his time off work reading comics about Star Wars or Battle Trek or Star Battles or whatever the hell. And she was pretty sure he was a virgin. Still, she felt sorry for him, and the last thing she wanted to do was break his poor heart. She had to see the man every day at work.
She looked at Calleigh again. "What did you tell Eric?"
Calleigh froze but quickly covered her tracks, shaking her hands in the air as if to dry them. "When?" she said casually.
"When you told him you don't have any feelings for him."
Hundreds of different answers flashed through her head. Some of them were lame but a few of them were actually a pure work of art. But in the time it took her to select one, Valera's face fell and she gasped.
"Oh my God."
Calleigh sighed quickly and turned to face Valera as she dried her hands. "Tell Dan he's very nice, and very handsome, but that you don't think that the two of you would make a good match and that he's better off, you know, finding love somewhere else, with someone who shares some of his interests," she finished, and without waiting for a response began to walk out.
"Wait, we need to talk about this!" Valera called after her.
"Bye, Valera," Calleigh said quickly and walked out of the bathroom.
"Blimey!" Valera cursed under her breath, but this new information she had now... she was beginning to cheer up. With a smile on her face, she walked out of the bathroom.
"Hey."
She jumped back, and upon realizing who it was in front of her she quickly rolled her eyes, scoffed and continued walking.
Ryan quickly followed her. "Look, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about earlier."
"Just drop it, okay?" she said quickly, making her through the crowd.
"Not until I know that we're okay."
"What?" Valera exclaimed in disbelief. "I'm not your fag hag, Ryan."
"No!" Ryan laughed quickly, and a few men turned over to look at him. He shook his head quickly at them. "No, I'm not—I'm not—" He dismissed them quickly and went after Valera again. "Would you just stop walking for a second and talk to me?"
She finally stopped, somewhere between an ice sculpture and an emergency exit, and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. However, her arms were crossed, and she looked angry.
"Look, I'm sorry about what I said, but I didn't mean that it was stupid for Cooper to like you," Ryan explained, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that, he's a little... well, I knew you were gonna turn him down—"
She frowned. "How?"
"What?"
"How did you know that?"
He looked at her. "Well, um, I don't know. He doesn't seem like your type?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's my type?"
Christ, Ryan thought. Not this again. "Well, not Cooper, for starters."
"How do you know that?" she demanded of him. "I mean, suddenly you seem to know everything about my love life."
He placed his hands on his hips, suddenly feeling defying and he couldn't believe what she was implying. "Do you like him?"
She frowned and scoffed. "What do you care?"
"It's a simple question," he said.
"It's an incredibly personal question, and I don't have to tell you anything, you're not my mother," she said and sighed, and the way he was frowning, the way he was looking around, she wondered why he was so upset about this. "What is wrong with you tonight?"
"Nothing!" he snapped at her.
"You're acting like--" she said and stopped, knowing where the sentence was going, and judging from his reaction (the myriad of emotions flashing through his face) she got the feeling she wasn't too far off the mark. She sighed and looked down. "Ryan—"
He shook his head. "Don't—"
"You don't want me, Ryan," she said, softening slightly and yet getting frustrated again. "You just wanna beat Cooper. I'm the blue ribbon in your little Special Olympics."
"Everybody gets a ribbon at the Special Olympics," he told her.
Valera looked at him, confused, and shook her head. "N...no. No. Nobody gets me, okay? Nobody gets me, especially someone who's just pretending to like me so he can stick it to his friend."
"That is not true," he said.
"Then where is this coming from? Just... tonight, out of nowhere, the very same night that Dan decides he wants to ask me out?"
Ryan began to say something, but quickly realized he had very little to say. He could deny it till he died, but he had neither the motivation nor the energy anymore. He sighed and looked around, and couldn't believe this was happening right in the middle of a gay wedding.
"I mean, you claim Cooper's an idiot who couldn't get laid in a... Wookie orgy, but you sure as hell are having a hard time with this."
He quickly snapped back. "Okay, I'm not jealous."
Valera smiled smugly. "I didn't say you were."
"There was an implication. A silly implication. I will not stand for implications, Valera, not of the silly kind," he exclaimed.
"Stop wasting my time, Ryan," she said, sighing. "I don't know if you heard, but the last guy I went out with turned out to be a real asshole, and I don't want a repetition of that."
"That's not fair, I would never..."
"Just forget it, okay?" she said, uncrossing her arms and she began to walk away but suddenly stopped. "And not that it's any of your business, but I don't like him. So I would appreciate it if you just found yourself another toy to play with."
She didn't wait for his reaction, never did see the look of disappointment and hurt in his face. She merely walked through the crowd once more, hoping the bartender wouldn't object to pouring the contents of every bottle of vodka directly into her mouth. Looking around, she saw Calleigh hugging Tyler, and she briefly wondered when it would finally be her turn to be that happy. She was beginning to doubt it would ever happen.
Reaching the bar, she asked the bartender for a shot of vodka, and as he placed it in front of her she turned sideways to come face to shoulder with Eric. If he knew she was there he didn't notice, he merely looked into the crowd's direction and Valera didn't need to have eyes on the back of her head to know what had him so enthralled.
"You okay?"
He snapped out of his reverie then and looked over, somehow surprised by her presence and smiled. "Yeah."
"You look... weird," she told him.
"I'm fine," he said. Smiling, he turned around and leaned on the bar, their shoulders touching. "How are you?"
"Ugh," Valera scoffed. "I'm in a room with two hundred mos," she said, bitterly taking a sip of her drink. "I've got Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum fighting over who gets to make a bigger asshole of themselves, and the worst part is I'm actually kinda flattered. This is what it's come down to, Eric, choosing a partner based on varying levels of retardation. The lesser of two idiots."
Eric nodded. "That's tough."
"What happened to us?" she wondered aloud. "We used to be... I don't know. Remember, though?"
"Yeah," Eric said.
"I mean, we used to party every weekend, go out all the time. Now we're so... bitter."
He looked at her and smiled. "I'm bitter?"
"You're sad, Eric," she said softly. "I don't know why and I don't know if anyone will be able to fix it, but I miss the old you."
He looked down, and his smile began to wane but he didn't let it. Heart to hearts with Valera were rare, but she was just as capable of deep conversations as anyone else, and something about her demeanor, at the weird way in which she chose her words, used her sentences, always made him smile. He loved her just as much as he loved all his sisters, though she was more like the little sister he never had.
"He's still around somewhere," he told her.
She smiled and tapped her hip to his, making him sway slightly. "Find him for me?"
He smiled warmly at her and kissed her forehead. "I'll put out an ad."
"Good," she said, and together they drowned down a shot of vodka each. Seconds later they turned around when the loud screeching of the microphone's feedback filled the room. Everyone quiet down to look at the source of the noise, and though Valera couldn't really see through the sea of tall people, judging from the look on Eric's face, it wasn't a particularly good sight.
"I would just like to, um," Dan said on the microphone, courageously facing his audience and sweating, "dedicate this song to someone very important."
"What?" Valera said quickly. "Is... is that Cooper?"
"Oh yeah," Eric said, a grin forming on his face at the prospect of this new development.
Dan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again when the music began. "Guess mine is not the first heart broken..."
"Ooooooh... my God," Valera said, covering her face with her hands and then burying her head in the crook of Eric's neck in embarrassment.
"My eyes are not the first to cry..." Dan continued. The lights suddenly dimmed and all the men began to cheer. A few of them took out their lighters and began to sway the tiny flames from side to side.
"Please tell me this isn't happening, this isn't happening," Valera told Eric.
"Oh, it's happening," Eric chuckled. "Damn, and I didn't bring my camera."
"This is so embarrassing. Eric, please get him to stop!" Valera cried, trying not to look but the sight in front of her was like a car crash; atrocious, and yet she couldn't look away.
"And miss the show? Never in a million years besides, I could stop the music, darling, but there's just no getting over you," Eric teased her.
"Yeah, very funny."
"But now... there's nowhere to hide!" Dan sung in a high-pitched feminine tone, "since you pushed my love aside I'm not in my head, hopelessly devoted to you ooooooooh!"
"Yeah!" a gay man cheered.
"You tell him, honey!" another one added.
"Ugh," Valera finally moaned, pushing Eric aside and running out of the place. Eric looked after her and laughed, and when the show was over he gave Dan a heartfelt applause and a loud cheer. He could always count on Dan's humiliation to bring him out of an emotional funk.
"That is my replacement?" Tyler said as he approached Eric, "no wonder the lab's efficiency has gone down 3 percent."
Eric smiled at his old friend. "It may also have something to do with you leaving us."
"What can I say, I'm a nomad," Tyler said. "Were you planning on saying hello some time tonight?"
"Well, you've been busy," Eric said, and the two men embraced tightly. "Congratulations, man."
"Thank you," Tyler said. The two men pulled back and he took a deep breath. "I didn't think you'd make it."
"I wasn't going to," Eric admitted, and suddenly he couldn't quite look him in the eyes.
"It's okay."
Eric smiled briefly and scanned the room. Tyler's husband was by the cake, helping a few of his friends with the plates. "He looks nice."
Tyler looked over and smiled. "He is, he's helped me a lot, get over Tim and--he's been great."
Eric nodded. He didn't want to talk about Speed, not in the middle of a wedding and especially not with the one person who'd meant the most to Speed. At this point he wasn't sure he could afford to confront those emotions anymore.
"I still love him," Tyler confessed, and Eric quickly looked up. Suddenly the man in front of him didn't look as happy as he'd looked five seconds ago, and Eric latched on to his newfound melancholy quickly.
"I miss him. Every day," Tyler continued and took a deep breath, looking around. "But I know he'd want me to move on, be happy."
Eric smiled sadly. "Hard to imagine him being the ambassador of happy."
Tyler chuckled. "He was a bit of a grouch, but he wasn't made of stone. He loved you immensely. You know that, right?"
Eric nodded and looked down, fighting vainly the knot that was beginning to form on his throat. Coming to the wedding, he'd known, would likely bring back some memories, but he hadn't imagined it would be this hard.
"I miss him, too," he said, his voice shaky, looking away.
"This isn't," Tyler started again, struggling with his words. "I haven't forgotten about him. I think about him every day. I--in the beginning, I didn't think I was gonna make it," he confessed. "His clothes were all over the place, the bed still smelled like him..."
Eric nodded. He hadn't really stopped to think that this might be harder on Tyler than on him. Of course, logic dictated that it would, but he was so wrapped up in his own grief that he never stopped to look around and notice anyone else's. At that moment he realized he could've helped Tyler, they could've helped each other, if only he hadn't been too self-involved.
"So," Tyler said, his tone stronger. He spotted Calleigh trying to comfort a frantic Valera by the bathrooms. "How's that going?"
"What?" Eric turned to see what he was looking at, and the sight made him sigh and look down.
Tyler smiled. "That bad, huh?"
"Tyler—"
"You don't have to pretend in front of me," Tyler said. "Well, you can't anyway, the way you look at her. But even if you could pretend, you don't have to. Speed used to talk about you two all the time."
Eric frowned. "I never told him--"
"You didn't have to," Tyler said. He sighed, smiling at him. "Take it from me, Eric, you don't wanna waste any more time. Five years from now, you don't wanna be with someone, wishing she was someone else."
Eric smiled sadly at him.
"It's tough, nowadays. If you find a little bit of happiness," Tyler added. "But what do I know? I never imagined my life without Tim."
Eric nodded. He understood what Tyler said, and knew the importance of his words, but at this point he wasn't sure anything would ever materialize with Calleigh. He knew she returned some of his feelings, because he knew her better than anyone and he could see it in her eyes, in the way her demeanor changed around him. But Calleigh's need to protect herself was stronger than anything she may feel for him, and he was beginning to lose hope.
"Hey, babe," Maxwell suddenly said next to Tyler. "People are getting impatient for cake."
"Oh, okay," Tyler said. "I want you to meet an old friend, Eric, this is my husband Max."
Maxwell smiled and shook Eric's hand. "From the lab, right? Tyler talks about you guys all the time."
Eric smiled warmly. "We miss him there."
"I'm a wife now, I stay home and cook and clean," Tyler joked.
"Yeah, let's see how long that lasts," Maxwell teased him. "I'll go get the photographer. Eric, it was very nice to meet you."
"You too," Eric said and watched the man go. He turned to Tyler. "He's nice."
"Yeah," Tyler said, smiling warmly at him. He looked at Eric and suddenly his smile increased. He reached around the bar for a bottle of champagne and passed it to Eric. "Here. Wedding gift from me to you."
Eric smiled at the bottle of champagne. "I don't think that's how it works."
"Oh, Eric, it's a gay wedding," Tyler said. "What makes sense?"
Eric shook his head and took the bottle. He read the label and his eyebrows went up. "This is really expensive."
"Take it home," Tyler said. "Save it for a special occasion."
Eric smiled and nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."
"Come here," Tyler said, motioning him over. Reluctantly Eric walked up and the two men embraced. Tyler placed a kiss on his cheek. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
Eric nodded. "You too. And congratulations, again."
"Thanks," Tyler said. Before leaving, he turned to Eric. "I, uh, I try to visit his grave every week, you should join me some time."
Eric nodded. "That'd be nice."
Tyler smiled and walked away and Eric watched as he joined Maxwell by the cake, and together they began to cut it as the photographers took a few snapshots of them. Looking at the bottle of champagne in his hand, he grimaced slightly and undid the knot of his tie, letting it hang loosely down his chest. Without looking back he began to walk out of the locale, feeling somewhat better after his conversation with Tyler. He wasn't sure he would ever really be the same, without Speed, but he knew it was time to start and let go, knowing every bit of what Tyler said was true - despite his cantankerousness, Speed would want them all to be happy.
Outside the club, he passed Ryan and Dan, who were standing there like two children being scolded.
Valera stood in front of them, poised and strong, and taking a deep breath she said, "I'm getting a ride home with this random Latino drag queen," she announced seriously, and the colorful man next to her smiled at Dan and Ryan gingerly. "I hope you two will be civil to each other from now on. Meanwhile, I'll go ahead and forget this night ever happened. I suggest you do the same."
Dan began to say something, but she quickly shook her head and he stopped like a puppy being scolded. Ryan said nothing, and before she walked away she looked at him. Their eyes locked briefly before she looked away, and as she climbed on the passenger's seat of what had to be the bulgiest Latino drag queen Ryan had ever seen, her dress sparkling in the moonlight, he felt a strange sense of something that slightly resembled yearning.
"Well, that was a bust," Dan said next to him, and Ryan just stood there. "I'm going home. You gonna hang out? I got World of Warcraft, we can make you a character."
Ryan finally looked at him, feeling a little miserable. "As cool as that sounds, I think I'll just hit the sack."
"Alright, man," Dan said and hesitated before adding, "Look, I'm sorry. You were right, I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, she is kinda crazy. And too tall. And weird."
"Yeah," Ryan said thoughtfully.
"Alright, I'll see you Monday."
Dan was gone quickly and Ryan stood there, with his hands in his pockets and feeling morose, and when he turned around he saw the same trannie from before, fiddling with his tweezers. Ryan hesitated a moment before his shoulders hunched over.
"Oh, alright," he sighed in defeat, and followed the trannie back into the club.
--0--
In the parking lot, Eric fished for his keys and looked at the pebbled ground as he walked. Being the last one to arrive, he had to settle for a parking spot as far away from the club as was physically possible, and he was exhausted, his body aching for sleep.And yet reaching his spot, he stopped at the surprising sight in front of him - Calleigh leaning against his car and looking serene and care-free, or at least pretending to be. She was good at that. Slightly curious and slightly nervous, Eric approached her hesitantly, and already he could tell this was possibly going to lead to another tense moment. This little thing happening between them, it was beginning to take a toll on him and he frowned at the ground.
"Thought you'd gone home," he told her.
"I was going to," she said, smiling at his loose tie.
Fair enough, he thought. Scratching the back of his head, he walked over and stood next to her, leaning on the side of his car. The silence stretched for a while, and though the night was a little chilly she'd yet to show an indication that she was cold. He began to wonder whether he should offer her his jacket or not, when she shifted next to him.
"You miss him," she said intuitively.
He looked at her and quickly looked down. "Yeah."
She examined his face for a moment before she looked away. "I do, too."
Eric looked at her. "You do?"
Calleigh smiled and shrugged her shoulder. "He was my friend, too."
"You never talk about it," he said.
"It's still hard," she admitted, looking down. "I know it's harder for you, I've been meaning to apologize."
Eric frowned. "For what?"
"For not talking about it, for being too scared," she said reluctantly. "I knew you needed me, but I just... I didn't feel strong enough to help you."
He looked away, and wanted to reassure her it wouldn't have made a difference, that it wasn't her fault, but in a way he knew she was right. They never did talk about it. Speed was killed, and instead of leaning on each other they both decided to bury their feelings deep down in a self-destructive way. Soon afterwards he began to seek comfort in the arms of strange women while she lost her spark and some of her life. The very few moments when they were around each other it was good - she always made him smile and he didn't have to say much to make her laugh, but it wasn't the same. There was an elephant in the room they were both ignoring - more than one, quite possibly - and the longer they did, the more their friendship suffered.
It only really began to change after the shooting, but only briefly before their relationship reached a whole new level unknown to the both of them. It wouldn't be the same again, he realized. The old Eric and Calleigh died a little when Speed was taken. They deluded themselves into thinking nothing had changed; he was beginning to wonder if that was a recurring theme in their relationship.
She looked at him again, and this time she smiled. "You look good."
Eric looked over and chuckled slightly. He tried to stop the pink from rushing to his cheeks, but he wasn't sure it worked. Looking down, he realized he was still holding the bottle of champagne, and remembering Tyler's words, he smiled slightly.
"You like champagne?" he asked.
Calleigh chuckled. "Right here?"
His smile turned into a grin. "Why not?"
Too late, Calleigh realized, even if she tried to stop him. Already he was attempting to open the bottle. "Eric, that's really expensive champagne."
Eric shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her. "I was told to save it for a special occasion."
Calleigh looked at him and smiled at the implication. "We don't have any cups," she protested lightly.
"A girl of the South, you're telling me you never drank from a bottle?" he teased her.
"I'm a proper Southern belle," she joked.
"Well, Southern belle," he said as he finally popped the cork and the sound echoed into the night. "Why don't you do the honors?"
Calleigh grabbed the bottle and smiled at him. "What, no toast?"
"Never been a fan," Eric said.
She frowned humorously at him. "You're lousy at this."
He chuckled, and to his surprise she managed to chug down a good amount of alcohol before she passed him the bottle. Eric drank from it, surprised by the good taste. He'd never been a big fan of champagne, preferred wine or alcohol, but this stuff was very good. And very expensive.
The silence returned, but this time it wasn't awkward. They stood there, every once in a while drinking from the bottle, lost in each other's thoughts as the music blared far away. Eric felt better, maybe this was an indication that not everything was lost, when she interrupted his thoughts.
"You talk to Tyler?" Calleigh said.
"Yeah."
She nodded and looked away, and Eric could tell she, too, had mixed feelings about the wedding. "Me too," she said. "He looks happy."
"Yeah, he deserves it," Eric said.
She nodded thoughtfully, looking down at the pebbles, letting a moment stretch before speaking again. "You didn't ask me to dance tonight."
Eric frowned, looking over to try and confirm what he'd just heard. She was looking down at the ground, like she'd said nothing at all, and for a moment he wondered if he'd imagined it.
"You had company," he told her carefully, not wanting to piss her off.
She smiled and took step forward, and offered him her hand. "Come on."
Eric looked at her and chuckled slightly. "Are you serious?"
Calleigh shrugged her shoulders playfully. "We're in a parking lot, drinking champagne from a bottle, listening to gay music... why not?"
He chuckled again and put the bottle of champagne on the hood. Taking her hand, she pulled him away from the car, and though the music was loud and fast, the lyrics muffled, he put his hand around her waist and she settled against him.
It was a little awkward. She was too short and he too tall. She was a little tense and he was terrified. They both tried to lead. But eventually they found a nice rhythm together and they settled there comfortably. He could practically hear his heart beating and he could tell she was nervous as well, but there was no way in hell he was going to put an end to this moment, not when their bodies were moving slowly, his fingers in her hair. Her hand was tiny in his hand. And she smelled damn good.
He didn't know how long they swayed there, in the middle of the parking lot. Time seemed completely inconsequential whenever he found himself in her presence. Eventually she pulled back and looked up at him, smiling hesitantly and their hands were sweating slightly. He knew that face could get him into trouble any time, any day. At the thought his body began to react too quickly, and knowing she was but mere seconds away from running away scared again, he tried to stop.
"Cal--"
"There's a window of opportunity," she interrupted him.
He frowned at her, confused. Her tone was soft and dangerous, their bodies had inched closer, and his heart was beating painfully fast.
"And I'm only opening it for ten seconds," she added, stopped swaying and looked at him. She looked scared and worried, and a little hesitant, but simultaneously determined. "So you better be right about this."
Noticing her nervousness, finally getting her words, Eric smiled. "I am."
Without wasting any time he inched closer, their eyes closing before he captured her lips with his. He kissed her briefly and sweetly before she frowned and pulled back slightly, but looking at him, her eyes a little wide and scared, she leaned in again. Her mouth opened first and he followed her quickly, slowly exploring each other, their hearts reaching a frantic rhythm together. He bought his hand to the side of her face, tilting her head back slightly and deepening the kiss, and when she sighed against him he thought he'd never heard or felt anything so amazing in his life.
Eventually she turned her head slightly and kissed his cheek before pressing her forehead to the crook of his neck, and Eric held her there with the resolute intention of never letting go.
Standing in the parking lot with Calleigh in his arms, Eric wondered if Valera had been up to something. He wondered if loving someone was enough to keep them and their memory alive. In that sense he knew Speed would never die. All the things they went through together, all their moments of friendship, would forever be engraved in his mind, and not even a bullet to the brain could erase them. He knew then it was time to say goodbye, let the sadness dissipate away with the chilly night breeze.
As for the happiness, he found it'd already crept into his life wearing high heels and a little black dress.
The End