A/N: I completely ignore Megan's existence, and Ray dies sooner in my story than he did on the show (not a major--or minor--factor in the story).

Just for point of reference, I've roughly based my timeline on the flashback in ep.8x01-- therefore, Eric probably received his badge in 1997 or 1998 and joined underwater recovery. Season 1 began in 2002, and I wanted him on the team for a couple years before the pilot ep., so this story begins in 2000. Voila! I am ignoring, obviously, the parts of the S.8 flashback where Calleigh and Eric met.

Also, personal disclaimer: I know very little about the world of swimming and even less about motorcycles. Please forgive any mistakes.

Chapter 4


Surprisingly, Calleigh and Eric fell into an easy working rhythm. Both feared that things might turn awkward between them, but the exact opposite occurred. The electricity they felt every time their eyes connected persisted, but it shocked them a little less each time.

Calleigh gave Eric the grand tour of the Crime Lab: she showed him where he would be working, introduced him to the rest of the lab rats, took him down to autopsy, tipped him off to the secrets of the break room refrigerator (don't touch Horatio's potato salad). She finally capped it off with the crowning jewel (in her opinion): the Firearms Lab.

Meanwhile, they also managed to tie up the Teresa Franklin murder. Teresa's current boyfriend, Roger Brooks, had pissed off the wrong people. She died to pay his debt, her little boy lost his mother, and Roger had to live with that for the rest of his life.

Horatio discreetly observed Eric from his office, noting with satisfaction that he conducted himself professionally, especially given the emotional nature of his first case as a CSI. Eric felt comfortable in the water, and surrounded by lab equipment; now, Horatio saw that he could handle the human aspect of the job as well.

He stepped out of his office and headed toward Calleigh, Speedle, and Eric, who stood chatting in the hallway. "I seem to remember," Horatio said to the trio, "a certain someone promising a round of drinks after shift."

"That I did," Eric remarked. "You guys pick the place."

"What about Del Toro's, down the street?" Calleigh proposed.

"Sounds good to me," Speedle said.

"Oh, and Alexx can't come—Jamie's got a ballet recital tonight," she added.

"I will find Tripp and Yelina," Horatio stated, "and we'll meet you guys there in a little while."

"I've got some paperwork to finish up before I can head out," Calleigh said apologetically to Speed and Eric. "I'll have to meet you there, too."

"Well," Tim slapped Eric on the shoulder and gave him a little shake, "looks like it's just the two of us."

Eric chuckled and followed Speedle toward the elevator. Calleigh and Horatio headed their separate ways, but as the elevator doors were closing Eric heard Calleigh holler over her shoulder at Speed, "And at least try to get a good table this time!"

The doors closed, Speed muttering to himself, "One lousy time. You can't win with her," and grumbling something else under his breath that Eric couldn't hear.

Eric didn't quite know what to think about Tim Speedle. Calleigh gave him the low-down on everyone at the lab today, including Tim. They were pretty tight, but she freely admitted that there was still a lot about the man she didn't know. He was moody and mysterious, liked a good joke and a good drink, and considered working at CSI a job, not a passion.

The doors opened again and Eric followed Speedle into the main lobby and then out the front doors. "Do you know where we're going?" Tim asked the newest member of their team.

"Yeah, I've been there before. Actually, I think I'll just walk from here—it's not worth trying to find a parking space."

Eric had inadvertently followed Speed to the front parking lot as they spoke. "Dude," Speed gestured in front of him, "that's why you need to get a bike. Hell of a lot less trouble."

Delko let out a long, appreciative whistle for the work of art in front of him. He walked around it, taking it all in. "She's gorgeous," he said to no one in particular.

Score one for the new guy. "You ride?"

"Not as much as I like. I helped my dad fix up old cars as a kid—got turned on to motorcycles in high school," Eric said. "Couldn't ride in college—I'd lose my scholarships if I crashed. But God…" He ran his hand over the chrome handlebars, "She's beautiful."

Speed grinned like a proud papa. "1976 Harley Davidson Ironhead Short Chop. Ninety percent original parts—"

"—you've fixed the gearshift lever shaft. That's some nice work." Eric was still staring at the bike, and Speed was staring at Eric.

Damn. Score two for the new guy. He's not half bad. "Yeah," he cleared his voice, "you know, Delko—if you survive your first week, I might just show you my pride and glory."

Eric raised his eyebrows in question. "1941 Harley 45" Flathead." Speed crossed his arms and smirked at Eric's gaping expression. "Belonged to my grandfather. I keep it in a climate-controlled garage most of the time."

"I bet. Humidity's a bitch."

"No kidding." They both admired the chopper for a little longer before Speed spoke up again. "You know what, somebody's probably going to have to dump my ass at home tonight, anyway. I'll just walk with you."

Eric laughed, taking one last glance at the bike before they left for Del Toro's. "Does that happen often?"

Speed considered the question, and then answered, "Yes, if you ask Calleigh. But don't ask Calleigh…honestly, we don't get a chance to let loose that often. I like to think of it as seizing opportunities," he quipped.

Several hours later, Calleigh, Speedle, and Delko sat around a half-empty table nursing the last of their drinks for the night. Tripp, Yelina, and Horatio had long since departed.

Eric and Calleigh spent half the night regaling the group with stories about each other that they could only have known through Derek.

FLASHBACK

"Wait, wait, wait," Calleigh stopped Eric mid-sentence. "How on earth did you know that?"

Speedle was practically rolling on the floor with laughter. He rarely got to hear stories of a young, rabble-rousing Calleigh. Tripp and Horatio looked fit to burst as well, and Yelina had tears streaming down her face.

"My sophomore year. I had just finished my 200m backstroke finals—"

"You remember it that clearly, do you?" Calleigh's eyes narrowed as she glared at Eric.

Frank shushed her. "Let the boy tell his story."

"Thank you, Frank," Eric said, and Frank nodded. "Anyway, my family wasn't there—I think Isa was in labor, can't remember now—but your dad came up to me—"

"You know what? I don't want to know," Calleigh fumed. "However he told you, he is so dead."

"Yeah, I don't suppose you'd miss this time," Speed taunted.

The entire group exploded in laughter.

Calleigh's face turned beet red. "I told you, it was an accident! I was seven, for God's sake."

"You shot your childhood crush, Cal!"

"Shut it, Delko. Payback's a bitch."

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat, hard. Over the years, he'd shared a lot of phone calls and pointless stories with Derek Duquesne. In fact, Derek had been there for quite a few of his misadventures during college. Eric had no idea what kind of wild tales he could have told his sister about him; he just hoped it didn't cost him his job, his first day on the job.

Calleigh practically hummed with satisfaction at the terrified look that swept over Eric's face. "Now, should I start with you engaging in a police chase at the ripe age of nine, or with that particularly eventful night at Gulf Shores your senior year of high school?"

Eric felt like crawling under the table. "He didn't. You wouldn't!"

Calleigh crowed with delight. "You know, no self-respecting young man should know what branty-divin' is," she lectured in her genteel way.

Speed, Tripp, and Horatio shook with uncontrolled laughter. "Actually," Frank chuckled, "I think all self-respecting young men should know what branty-divin' is." Yelina slapped him hard on the shoulder, which just made him laugh harder.

Horatio sat back and took in the entire scene, absolutely content for the first time in a long time, happy to see Yelina laugh, happy that Delko meshed so well with the team…just happy.

Speedle spoke up, "I want to hear about this police chase…"

"Absolutely not," Eric refused, then added with a wink, "my juvenile record is sealed."

"We can unseal them," Yelina interrupted, "Besides, I want to hear about your swimming. Horatio mentioned you're quite good."

"That's an understatement," Calleigh said under her breath, glancing at Eric with a small smile. He kicked her under the table. "What? It's the truth!"

"Eric," Horatio said, "played baseball and swam for U of M. He competed in the Olympic trials in Atlanta in '96…and lost by three-tenths of a second."

Eric blushed, hoping that the dark atmosphere would cover his embarrassment. He considered swimming a passion more than a talent, and he never got used to the attention he received for his achievements.

Calleigh added, "He retired the next year, but not until he swam—and placed second—in Worlds."

"Damn, boy," Frank said, "How the hell'd you wind up in underwater recovery?"

Five inquiring pairs of eyes faced him. "Injured my back. And I needed a change, I guess." He left it at that.

END FLASHBACK

Eric thought about that conversation. Most people wouldn't understand why he chose to retire. They wouldn't understand how he ended up hauling tin in the backwaters of Miami. Horatio did, and he encouraged Eric to get his badge; he found a way for Eric to use his talents for something bigger than himself, something more than the thrill and satisfaction of a roaring crowd. That changed his life.

This team was different. They were police officers, and they all had a reason for doing what they did. So they understood that he had his, too. No questions asked.

"Hey, I'm going to the restroom before we head out," Eric said to his companions as he climbed off his bar stool.

"'Kay," Calleigh said.

Speed watched Eric disappear at the back of the bar before he spoke. "Alright, what is going on with you two?"

Calleigh looked at him in shock. "Don't give me that look, Cal."

"Tim, I honestly don't know what you're talking about," she defended sincerely.

"I've never seen you interact with someone that way," Speed clarified, "or look at someone that way."

Ahh. That, Calleigh thought. There is that.

She sat still for a moment too long, and Speed cried, "See! I'm right!" Calleigh rolled her eyes. "How can two people who have never rightfully spoken to each other, know each other like you two do?" He was mystified. And a little drunk. Or a lot drunk.

"It's complicated, Tim. And I doubt you'd remember in the morning if I tried to explain, which I can't." She was tired, and luckily she spied Eric headed back to the table.

"C'mon, big fella, we're movin' out," she said as Eric retrieved his credit card from the bar. He helped her steady Speedle on his feet and they called him a cab. Speed safely taken care of, they walked back to their cars at MDPD.

They spent the first few minutes of their trek in silence, until Eric spoke softly, "You know, Calleigh—" Where was I going with this, again?

She smiled. "What?"

He laughed. "The last I heard from Derek, you were still in New Orleans. You can't believe how surprised I was to see you this morning."

"Oh, I think I can," Calleigh giggled. She peered over at him, really taking him in for the first time since this morning. It had been a crazy day, and an even crazier evening with the team at Del Toro's. This was the first really calm moment they had together all day.

"I'm glad it's you," she said quietly.

"What?" Eric asked, not quite catching her drift.

"I'm glad you're the one joining the team," Calleigh explained. "Tim, Horatio, and I—we work like clockwork sometimes. And…Good Lord if Horatio didn't know we would be instant friends," she cracked up. "He couldn't have picked a better person for the job."

Eric bit his lip, trying to hide his wide grin. It broke free anyway. "I'm glad you feel that way," he said, smiling.

They arrived at Calleigh's car. "This is me."

"Well, Miss Duquesne," Eric said playfully, "thank you for a wonderful first day."

"You're welcome, Mr. Delko," she quipped back. "I'll see you tomorrow…well, later today."

"See you then," Eric said with a smile and headed to his truck a few rows down.

He was nearly there when he heard Calleigh call after him. "Hey, Delko!" He turned around. "Be careful when you open your kit tomorrow…" she said with a devilish grin.

Oh Lord, Eric thought, what have I gotten myself into? He watched Calleigh tear out of the parking garage. Well, it could be worse, he chuckled to himself.

Eric thought about the electricity that ran between him and Calleigh, glad that it seemed to take on a more platonic feel than a romantic one. She was a firecracker. And way more than he could handle.