How to Slide Down Horatio Caine's Chimney in 10 Easy Steps
by Carolina

"Jesus," Eric exclaimed as soon as he and Horatio arrived at the crime scene, crime scene being an understatement, since the whole place looked like the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust and all the survivors were on an uproar. Reporters stood outside, shouting questions at anyone who walked by, parents were shouting at other parents, children were crying, and the authorities were having a hard time holding everyone back. Eric immediately felt his adrenaline hit the roof. The scene in front of him was downright scary.

"Good thing it's the season to be jolly," Horatio quipped next to him.

Eric didn't say anything, merely jumped out of the Hummer and grabbed his kit and camera from the trunk; Horatio did the same. As they approached the scene they spotted Frank, who looked like he was five seconds away from making one of the parents crime scene number two.

"Over a fucking doll!" he shouted, hard to hear or be heard over the commotion, his arms rose as if he was conducting the crowd.

"What's going on?" Eric asked.

"Woman grabs the last toy, woman shouts I've got it, crowd goes crazy on woman, all hell breaks loose," Frank said. "Same as last week, same as the year before that... this is what Christmas is all about in suburbia, Charlie Brown."

"Where is she now?" Horatio asked, his eyes meticulously scanning the crowd.

"Woods is inside with her," Frank replied.

"Alright," Horatio said. "Do me a favor, Frank, why don't you gather everyone who was in the store at the time of the crime for questioning? They don't wanna cooperate; put them in the back of a police car."

Frank didn't ask any questions, merely grumbled something incoherent and walked away. Eric followed Horatio, until the older man pointed towards an ambulance that was parked not too far from the entrance. Eric had to practically force his way in and out of a small crowd of curious bystanders who were shaking their heads or in some cases shouting their disapproval at the big crowd of suspects. This was going to be a long, long, excruciating day, Eric thought.

He reached the ambulance and set his kit down, watching as a paramedic tenderly cared for a young boy.

"What have you got here?" he asked.

The paramedic looked up and frowned. "Who are you?" she asked with a twinge of attitude.

"Officer Delko, Miami-Dade crime lab," Eric said and showed her his badge.

"Oh," she said, unimpressed. "Elijah Harris, three years old, multiple bruising and a few minor scrapes, but other than that he's fine."

"Whose kid?" Eric asked.

The paramedic raised her eyebrows at him. "Victim's."

Eric mirrored her troubled expression for a second before he smiled at the little boy. "Hey, little man. My name's Eric, I'm a cop," he said, showing him his badge. "You wanna hold on to that for me for a while?"

Elijah grabbed the badge and looked at it, but the expression on his face remained mostly blank. Eric ruffled his hair. "Are you hurt, Elijah?"

"He doesn't say much," the paramedic said.

"Did you try getting the pacifier out of his mouth?" Eric asked.

The paramedic rolled her eyes. "Wow, you must be some sort of pediatric genius," she said sarcastically. "Of course I took it out, he still didn't talk. Either he's not saying much yet or he's probably in shock."

"Can you blame him?" Eric glanced quickly at Elijah's clothes, which were covered with spots of blood, and let out a sigh. "Are you done here?"

"He's all yours," the paramedic replied.

"Great," Eric said and reached for his kit. No sooner did he set it on the ambulance, though, when suddenly there was a roar behind him, the crowd shouted louder, and people started throwing things.

"Oh, jeez, where the hell is my partner?" the paramedic exclaimed.

"I'm gonna take this inside," Eric said. Grabbing Elijah and his kit, he attempted to get out of there as fast as he could

"Somebody's gonna want a copy of this report," the paramedic called after him.

"We'll pick it up later, just get out of there," Eric shouted.

He didn't wait to see if she drove out or not, it was hard enough trying to struggle his way through the mob as they pushed, shoved each other and shouted obscenities... what was wrong with these people? Elijah's grip on his neck was so tight Eric was having a hard time trying to keep his breathing steady, but they eventually made it to the front of the store. One of the cops recognized him and ushered him inside.

"Eric," Horatio called out, rushing over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Eric breathed. "But we're gonna need another coroner out there if we don't control that crowd soon."

Horatio looked outside, grimaced at the pandemonium, and finally noticed the tiny person in Eric's arms. "Is that the victim's son?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Horatio sighed. "Start processing, I'm gonna have to call for backup. If you need anything, page me, I'll be outside."

"Good luck," Eric said, disappearing into the store. Thankfully, things were eerily calmed inside, as every cop available rushed outside to help the others wane the mob. The employees were all gathered in the break room, waiting to be questioned, and he carefully avoided running into Alexx, fearing Elijah's reaction if he saw his dead mother there. After wandering around for a bit, Eric finally found the bathroom. He checked to see if they were alone before setting Elijah on the porcelain counter, between two sinks.

Eric let out a sigh, hands resting on either side of the boy's thighs as he caught his breath. "That wasn't fun, huh?"

Elijah didn't reply, but still looked a little spooked, holding Eric's badge so tight his little fingers had turned paper white.

"Do me a favor when you grow up: shop online," Eric said, setting his kit on the counter, the camera next to it.

He fished a pair of latex gloves out of the kit and put them on, but scratched his forehead nervously before he started anything, wondering how on earth he was going to do this. Horatio was the pro with children, usually the one who rushed towards them before any of the other CSIs could. Eric's experiences with young victims mostly extended to post mortem processing, he had never tended to them while they were alive, and most definitely not while they were traumatized. He could deal with older children, he thought, but the tiny ones made him nervous. What if he broke him, or poked him too hard and he started crying? A kid crying, jeez. That had to be the worst recorded sound since the invention of auditory nerves.

It was no wonder that at this point Elijah was doing much, much better than he was, following Eric's every move with his eyes, looking a bit curious, but mostly still blank. It was probably that silence that made Eric so nervous, not knowing what this kid was thinking, not knowing how this kid was going to react to... well, anything. A little too Children of the Corn-ish for his tastes, though Eric couldn't really blame him for choosing to block out what happened that morning. Mostly he didn't wanna do anything or say something that might trigger a bad memory and create a frantic reaction from this child. Again, not a big fan of the crying.

But hell, he had nieces and nephews. He would have to use his experiences with them to help him now. What did his nieces and nephews liked the most? Probably to sneak into Eric's room and play with all the instruments inside his kit. Eric sighed. There was nothing he hated the most than tiny little sticky hands playing with his expensive equipment. His sisters thought it was so cute they wanted to grow up to be like Uncle Eric, but not him, and definitely not the department every time he had to submit a bill for something little Diego or little Alejandra or little whatever-the-hell-the-other-three-were-called had broken. Not cute then, and the prospect of it happening again was irritating at best.

Where's Horatio when you actually need him?

It probably wasn't helping that the kid kept looking at him like Eric had told a bad joke and he was still waiting for the punch line.

"I know what I'm doing and I resent you looking at me like I'm some kind of idiot," he told Elijah, whose expression didn't change, looking at Eric in the eyes in a way that made him feel even more nervous. "Fine, so I don't know how to deal with babies. You still suck on your pacifier, so between you and me, me with a B.S. in Biology, and you with the limited knowledge of Sesame Street characters, I wouldn't be acting so superior if I were you."

There was no reply, something Eric was starting to get used to by now, and crossing his arms in front of him, he smiled proudly. "I stopped sucking on mine when I was two. The boogie man stole it. It's why I became a cop. Never did find it, though. The pacifier, not the boogie man... though I never found the boogie man, either. Of course, we didn't have pictures of the Cookie Monster on our pacifiers back then, ours were plain. Manly, if you will. I mean, no offense, but I don't think your mom would've splurged on those had she known what was going on between Bert and Ernie behind closed doors."

Eric stopped talking and just nodded for a while. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

No other response except a blink.

"That's okay, neither do I." Taking a deep breath, he picked up a couple of swabs. "So, here's what I'm gonna do. I'll share my toys with you, but only if you promise not to break them or get them sticky. We do that for each other and we'll get along just fine," Eric said and spent the next half hour searching for evidence in Elijah's clothes, hair, and skin, the catch being Elijah got to try all the instruments on Eric first, just so Eric could convince him they weren't going to hurt him.

And it wasn't as bad as he had expected, except when it was time to bag Elijah's clothes and take pictures of all the scrapes and bruises on his body. That's when it really hit him, what this kid had gone through that morning and why his mind had opted for shock rather than acceptance. Like the paramedic had said, there were just a couple of minor scrapes, barely noticeable, but the bruises were another thing. A few ones on his extremities and belly, but a particularly nasty one on his back. Eric wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it was taking the form of a shoe.

He shook his head and cursed silently, suddenly feeling a fiery anger inside. Like Frank had said, all over a fucking doll.

Eric smiled as best as he could when he was done and put the camera down. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Again, no response.

"Yeah, you're alright too," Eric said, resting his buttocks on the counter next to Elijah, who was down to his tiny briefs now, Eric's badge still in hand. "I tell you one thing; I'm definitely putting this on my résumé."

A man suddenly walked inside and stopped when he saw Eric there. "Who are you?"

"Officer Delko, Miami-Dade crime lab."

"Oh," the man said. "Henry Collins, I'm the manager."

Eric crossed his arms in front of him. "My boss is going to want to talk to you."

"Don't bother, man," Henry said, approaching a urinal. "I've already been questioned, re-questioned, and questioned again. I don't know how many times I can say 'I wasn't there when it happened' without sounding like a fucking broken record."

Eric frowned. Elijah, not liking the way the man talked, tugged on Eric's sleeve so he'd pick him up.

"You know, we've had that sale for over a month now? A month. These people come buy their presents a day before Christmas," Henry said, finished peeing and went to the sinks to wash his hands. "A day before Christmas, can you believe that?"

"Yeah, well, single parents don't necessarily have the luxury of time," Eric said.

"Please," Henry scoffed. "Five minutes, you come in, you grab the damn thing, you pay for it, you're out. What's so time consuming about that?"

"I don't know, why don't you explain that to him next time he asks where his mother is?"

Henry looked at boy in Eric's arms, who stared back at him with his tiny eyebrows furrowed, and sighed, walking over to grab a couple of paper towels from the dispenser. "Bottom line is: we're not responsible for the way people act around here.

"Well, it's your store, Henry. Everything that happens here from the moment you clock in to the moment you clock out is your responsibility," Eric said.

"I didn't stomp on that woman for a fucking doll," Henry said. "You wanna blame someone, blame the people who did." He threw the paper towel in the basket and stormed out.

Eric shook his head and looked at Elijah. "You know, Calleigh says holsters were invented to protect the gun. I think they were invented so your brain has time to give you second thoughts before you shoot people like that."

Elijah seemed to agree.

Eric set him on the counter again before he began to gather all his tools and put them back into his kit. A couple of minutes later, Horatio walked in, looking like he had just run twenty miles.

"How's it going out there?" Eric asked.

"Let's just say a lot of people will be sleeping in a cell tonight," Horatio said. "You got his clothes?"

"Yeah," Eric said and handed Horatio a couple of plastic bags, along with his notes and other bits of evidence he had found.

Horatio spotted Elijah and smiled. "Hey, champ. How you doing?" When the kid didn't respond, he ruffled his hair and turned to Eric. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah," Eric said and then frowned. "That manager guy—"

"Yeah, he's a real asshole," Horatio agreed. "We're taking him to the station now."

"Good," Eric said.

"I stole these from the front, I figured no one would mind," Horatio said, reached into a bag and handed Eric a few articles of tiny clothes. "And for you."

Eric looked at the all too familiar blue jumper and frowned. "What's that for?"

"You've got evidence on you, my friend," Horatio replied.

Eric looked down, noticing some of the blood on Elijah's clothes had transferred onto his shirt. "Crap."

"Bag it and tag it," Horatio said. "I'll be outside."

Eric stopped him. "Hey, hey, what about the kid?"

Horatio looked at Elijah and then at Eric again. "What about him?"

"What should I do with him?"

"We're still trying to get in touch with a family member," Horatio said.

"Well, in the meantime, can't somebody else take him?"

"Why? He already likes you," Horatio said.

"Yeah, but," Eric hesitated, "No offense, H, but... I mean, don't get me wrong, I like kids—"

"Good," Horatio said. "You like kids, he likes your badge. You'll make a great pair."

Eric frowned and stopped him from leaving again. "What about the crime scene?"

"I already called for backup," Horatio said.

"And you don't need any help outside?"

"Eric, I need you to keep an eye on him right now. You're not doing me a favor, that's your job," Horatio said.

"I know, but I don't exactly have a good rapport with kids," Eric said.

"He seems to like you just fine," Horatio said. "You saved his life, he feels safe with you."

Eric frowned. "When did I save his life?"

"Outside."

"That was hardly a mob pit," Eric chuckled.

"To a thirty year old man, yes. To a three year old boy that was a life or death situation, and you rescued him from it. He sees you as a super hero now," Horatio explained.

Eric rolled his eyes. God he hated when Horatio talked like that. "He told you that? Cause he hasn't said a word to me."

Horatio looked at Elijah and smiled tenderly. "Hey, champ. You wanna come and hang around with me for a while?"

Elijah shook his head.

"See?" Horatio said.

"Well, sure, if you ask him like that," Eric said. "You gotta lure him with your badge."

"Eric," Horatio said sharply. "Kids are not dogs, they rely on consistency. And shock patients are too delicate. If somebody else takes him and he doesn't like it we might lose an important eye witness. That's the bottom line. Understood?"

Eric hesitated for a moment before breathing out a reluctant, "Yes."

"Good," Horatio said. "I'll keep you posted."

Eric sighed when he was gone. "Hundreds of people out there, you had to make me mother hen." Elijah didn't say anything, nor did much, but there was something about his expression that made Eric feel bad.

"Sorry, buddy, nothing personal, but I'm long overdue for a promotion and babysitting isn't exactly a career boost," Eric said, took his shirt off carefully and placed it in a bag, and proceeded to do the same with his pants, hoping no one would walk into the bathroom at the moment, because he was sure the image of a grown man down to his boxers in front of a three year old down to his briefs wouldn't necessarily inject confidence in anyone.

After putting on that unflattering jumper he always hated so much, he dressed Elijah, undressed him, and dressed him again when he realized he had put his shirt on backwards. He was starting to wonder if it was really fair that children didn't come with instructions printed on their backs. After making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind, Eric ventured out into the store again, noticing there didn't seem to be a lot of noise coming from the outside. Kit in one hand and a three year old's hand in the other, his eyes scanned the gigantic store for Horatio, but it seemed as if everyone had gone home and left him there. He also tried to locate the clothing area to steal a pair of shoes for Elijah, but it seemed to be dangerously close to the crime scene, and the last thing he needed was a crying kid in his hands.

So he walked around aimlessly, mostly talking to himself because talking to the kid was pretty much fruitless, and feeling desperately useless. It probably didn't help that Ryan whisked past them on his way to deliver some evidence at one point. Eric groaned. Backup had to be Ryan. That kid didn't seem to have much of a life going for him.

When his stomach began to grumble, Eric ducked into the break room. The employees seemed to have been relocated, because the room was now empty. He sat Elijah on a dirty round table and walked towards a set of vending machines. Junk food, mostly, except for a couple of suspicious looking egg salad sandwiches. Better than starving to death, he thought.

He handed one to Elijah and dragged a chair over to sit down in front of the boy, who merely looked at the sandwich as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"Open it," Eric coaxed, opening his to show him, but Elijah mostly just stared at Eric. Eric took it and gave him a tiny piece of his own. "I'm not gonna regurgitate it for you, if that's what you want."

But Elijah looked at the piece of sandwich with disinterest, and it wasn't until Eric took a bite of his that he figured out why. Even the bread tasted like ass.

"Could've at least warned me," Eric said spitefully and threw the sandwiches away. He scanned the next vending machine – nothing but chips and chocolate, but he wasn't about to go hungry on top of having to baby sit a kid who wouldn't even talk to him. So he bought a couple of bags of chips and a couple of chocolate bars and ate them alone; Elijah seemed more interested in watching him eat than eat anything himself.

Nor did he seem interested in walking anymore. So kit in one hand, camera around his neck, and kid in one arm, Eric began to walk around the store again, wondering what the hell was taking Horatio so fucking long. And as if on cue, Horatio appeared in front of him, on his way out the store with a bag of evidence.

"Did you locate his family?" Eric called after him.

Horatio came to an abrupt stop and turned to Eric. "Mother was unmarried, family lives in Kentucky. We're trying to locate a father."

Eric shook his head. "And if there isn't one?"

"Social Services has been notified. Busy season, I guess. Ironic."

"Yeah, hilarious," Eric said seriously.

Horatio ignored Eric's bad mood and pointed at his kit. "Want me to take that?"

"Why not? It's not like I'll need it," Eric said and handed him the kit and camera.

"Still on the job, Eric," Horatio said and began to walk away.

"Yeah, a 12 year old girl's job," Eric called after him, but when he was ignored again, he let out a sigh and a grunt.

"Hey, look on the bright side. At least you look adorable."

Oh, crap. Eric cursed mentally and put on a fake smile before he turned around to feign shock. "Calleigh, what are you doing here?"

Calleigh smiled. "Horatio was in a pickle, my case is in a jam, I thought I might give him thirty minutes of my time," she said. "Also, someone at the lab said something about Eric Delko adopting a child, and well, I had to see it to believe it."

"I didn't adopt him, he adopted me," Eric said defensively.

"Very astute child," Calleigh said, winked at him, and pinched Elijah's cheek. "Hi, cutie!"

Elijah moved away from her touch and rested his head on Eric's shoulder, a tiny arm gripping on his neck like a snake.

Eric sighed. "Come on, man!"

Calleigh chuckled. "I think it's the haircut. Kinda makes you look like Barney."

"This isn't funny, Calleigh. I should be processing evidence, not running a day care center," Eric said and began to walk her towards the exit.

"Aw, don't I feel so sorry for you," Calleigh said sarcastically. "Besides, don't you wanna have kids someday?"

"Yeah, someday," Eric said. "When I have nothing left to live for, and when the government officially declares me procreating is not a threat to society, yes, I would like to have a couple of mini Delkos."

"Well, never too early to start practicing," Calleigh said.

"Right," Eric said, frowning at nothing. "So everyone back at the lab is laughing at me?"

"Some. But not to your face, so at least they're being respectful about it," Calleigh teased.

"Well, thank God for that," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself!" Calleigh said sharply. "You're in a toy store, show him around, get him a teddy bear. You can't possibly be having a worse day than him, Eric."

Eric stopped by the entrance and dropped his head in defeat. Dammit, he hated when she was right. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."

"You are an idiot," Calleigh said and opened the door. "But you do look adorable together," she smiled and walked off towards the parking lot.

Eric frowned as he watched her go. Huh. Interesting. So, grown man, plus baby, equals adorable. Now who the hell had failed to teach him that equation in Math class?

"Hey," he said, bouncing Elijah until the boy pulled back to look at him. "You don't really want a teddy bear, do you? It's bad enough that you have Sesame Street pacifiers, but a teddy bear? No, not while you're with me."

Eric's mood had changed drastically by the time he found himself in an aisle full of toy trucks, toy cars, and toy trains. So many of them, and so many models, he had to take a deep breath. He was in heaven.

"Okay," he said as he began to walk down the aisle, browsing through all the toys. "You know, when I was your age - well, not exactly your age, give or take ten years - there's nothing I wanted more than a train set. Only my father never got me one, because apparently they were too expensive. Every Christmas I got the same excuse – 'Santa Claus can't bring you a train set, Eric. Santa Claus is too poor.' Poor my ass. Those kids in the commercial got one, why couldn't I?"

He stopped talking when he found himself standing in front of a giant column of train sets. And there, in the middle, was the most beautiful one of all. Eric was so taken aback by it, he nearly dropped Elijah. The box seemed to be glowing heavenly, and he wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he could hear angels singing.

"There it is," he told Elijah, who, since Eric had gotten him, finally seemed interested in something.

Eric reached for the giant box and let it rest on his knee. "F40PH diesel locomotive with operating headlight, three lighted Amfleet passenger cars, plug-in terminal rerailer—" he had to stop to take a deep breath and look at Elijah. "You wouldn't think of me less of a man if I started crying right now, would you?"

Elijah shook his head and pointed at the picture of a train on the box.

"I know," Eric said. He poked his head around the corner and flagged the first employee that walked by, a girl who looked like she was all of fifteen years old. "Hey, how much is this train set?"

The girl came over and scanned the box. "Uh, seventy nine, ninety nine."

Eric's mouth dropped. "That's it? I can't believe that whole time he bitched about it being too expensive and it's only seventy nine, ninety nine. Probably thirty bucks back then." He shook his head and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "I'll take it."

The employee gave him a weird look. "Sir, there's... aren't you supposed to be investigating?"

"Yeah," Eric said, handing her a credit card. "Oh, you know what? I'll take this one, too," he grabbed another model and gave it to her. "My nephew will love it. And can you get me some batteries with that? I hate it when they open it and there are no batteries, suddenly everyone's looking at you like it was your job to buy batteries with the present. I mean, you bought the damn thing, the least they could do is get the batteries themselves, right?"

She stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "You... want me to wrap it?"

"No, we'll take ours like that," Eric smiled.

"Okay," the girl said, frowned at him and walked away.

Eric grinned like a little boy at a... well, toy store. He grabbed a box of the same model he had bought, sat down on the floor, put Elijah next to him, and opened the big box.

"Rule of thumb," he said, "Make sure you have lots of time and space before you start building this. Could take days. But it's not like I'll be doing anything else today, so," he emptied the box on the floor; pieces of the train set flew everywhere.

Eric immediately grabbed a big piece of the track and showed it to Elijah. "See? This is all common sense, so you're not really going to need the instructions. That's for nerds and little girls." He crumbled the instructions in to a paper ball and threw it away, then picked up two pieces of track and put them together, they didn't seem to match. Picked up another one, no match. "What the hell is this for?" he added as he picked up a weird piece and inspected it under the light.

"Aw, four years of college, two years at the MPD Academy, and look at our little Delko now... babysitting," Ryan mocked, as if appearing out of nowhere.

Eric looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but I still get a bigger paycheck than you, and all I have to do is sit here, so who's got the sweeter deal?"

"At least I don't have to change diapers," Ryan said indignantly.

"He's potty trained, thank you very much."

"Accidents still happen, especially at that age," Ryan said.

"Yeah, you should know," Eric joked. "Was it last week that you graduated into Pull Ups? I missed the ceremony."

"Ha ha," Ryan said sarcastically. His eyes suddenly averted towards the floor and they widened. "Hey, the Patriot Amtrak Express!" he exclaimed and sat down, his kit forgotten.

"Cool, huh? I bought it for him," Eric said proudly.

"You have no idea how much I wanted one of these when I was a kid," Ryan said, grabbing a handful of the pieces. "Never got one, though - too expensive."

Eric shook his head and continued trying to put the track together, but it was no use. Of all the boxes on display, he had to pick the one some idiot at the factory screwed up.

Ryan was having the same trouble; his eyes widened at the massive amount of pieces this train came with, and then looked at Elijah, who had a tiny blue piece in one hand and Eric's badge in the other. Ryan looked at the pieces again, at Elijah, at the pieces, and at Eric. "I don't think it's such a good idea for him to be playing with this, Delko."

Eric looked up and frowned. "Why not?"

Ryan reached for the giant box. "Says here 'ages 8 and up'."

Eric leaned over to read it and frowned. "That's gotta be a misprint, what's 8 year olds got that 3 year olds don't?"

"Gee, I don't know. Let's see," Ryan said and picked up a tiny red piece. "Hi, I'm three years old. I'm not allowed to have candy before dinner and I have to touch everything I see because I'm annoyingly curious. What's this? It looks like candy! I wonder what would happen if I jammed it down my esophagus."

"Come on, he's smart. He's not gonna choke on it," Eric said.

"Well, there's a reason why they put warning labels on these things," Ryan said. "They do experiments before they sell them on the market, you know. God knows how many three year olds they went through before they realized maybe babies shouldn't be playing around with tiny little pieces of deliciously looking plastic."

"Well, we've been here for twenty minutes, and he hasn't chocked once," Eric said.

"Yeah, wait till he loses that pacifier," Ryan said and smiled broadly. "I think you should give it to me."

"Right," Eric chuckled.

"Come on, he's not even playing with it, he's just staring at it," Ryan whined.

"He'll learn to play with it," Eric said.

"But he'll never truly appreciate it. He hasn't wanted one of these since he was five. He's not even five yet!"

"You have a job, Wolfe. Get your own," Eric said.

Ryan frowned. "You know, I could get my own."

"I'm sure."

"I could get a bigger one."

"Yup."

Ryan smiled, but then frowned again when he looked at Elijah. "Why is he looking at me like that?"

"He thinks you're an idiot," Eric said.

"Here you go, sir," the employee walked up to Eric and handed him his receipt along with a massive bag containing two train sets. Her eyes widened when she saw the mess on the floor.

"Is this okay? I thought I'd just put that one back," Eric said cheekily.

The girl sighed, took the train set out of the bag, and put it back on display.

Eric ducked his head as she walked away. "If you want that train set you better get it now before she comes back and lights me on fire."

"I have to go back to the scene anyway," Ryan said, reached for his kit, and stood up. "Hey, call me when you finish it. We'll test drive it."

"If I ever finish it," Eric mumbled, still trying to figure out how to put the pieces of the track together. For thirty minutes, he tried to find a way to make them fit without the use of glue, and despite common sense making sarcastic comments in his head, he was not going to reach for those instructions.

Ten minutes later, though, it didn't seem to be important anymore, because next to him, Eric thought he could hear a low cry, like a mouse or a possum or something. He looked over, and his eyes widened when he saw the pools of tears in Elijah's eyes.

"Oh, no, no, please don't!" Eric begged him, but that only seemed to encourage the crying along. He desperately picked up one of the train's cars and waved it in the air for Elijah's amusement. "Here, look, a train!"

No use.

"No, no, no!" Eric groaned when the crying became louder. "Are you hungry, thirsty? Just tell me."

Nothing eloquent except wailing and more wailing, which made Eric even more nervous, this, in turn, made Elijah cry louder. "Where the fuck is Horatio!"

Eric rushed towards the end of the aisle and looked around, no one there. Ran to the other end and looked out – no one. He returned to Elijah's side, tried to cheer him up with zoo animal noises and cartoons impressions, but that didn't help either. So he picked the kid up and began to gently bounce him in his arms while attempting to sing what he knew was the worst improvised lullaby ever, but it wasn't until he began to gently massage Elijah's back that the kid's cries began to diminish, somewhat.

Eric felt the skin was swollen there, and he assumed the crying came due to pain, and if there was pain, then this kid was probably coming to his senses again. And the prospect of that nearly gave him shivers. So he just kept walking and making up songs in his head about horses and cows and pigs and GI Joes until Elijah's cries toned down to sleepy sobs.

Eric didn't stop, though, because he was sure if this kid remained awake, things would get much, much worse. And Horatio was just being ridiculous now, because Eric was neither a therapist nor a child specialist, and he was sure he was doing everything wrong with this child and where the hell was Social Services?

Finally, he found himself in an area full of soft colors and fuzzy blankets and he didn't care if everyone back at the lab would laugh at the image of him rocking a three year old to sleep in a painfully pink and baby blue room, he sat down in a surprisingly comfortable rocking chair and continued to rub Elijah's back.

And as it turned out the wailing wasn't as bad as the whimpering, which began ten minutes later and went on for God knows how long, but the boy seemed unable to fall asleep, sounding like some sort of wounded animal. Eric's hand was beginning to hurt but it didn't stop the repetitive motion. He didn't know if it was the whimpering, or the pink room, or the picture of Elijah holding on to his badge like it was a lifesaver, but Eric felt bad, complaining because he didn't get to be Calleigh's Secret Santa while this kid would spend the rest of his life associating Christmas with the death of his mother. He knew no amount of toy trains or puppies or GI Joes would make the holidays enjoyable for him again, which is probably the reason why he didn't stop the massages or the rocking, even after Elijah had fallen asleep.

And what seemed like minutes later but were actually hours, he felt someone shaking him and calling his name. Eric opened his eyes and jumped at the sight of Horatio, merely inches away from his face.

"What the hell?" Eric groaned.

"Social Services is here," Horatio said.

Eric frowned, his sleepy mind trying to figure out where he was and what the hell was happening. But then he took in the pink surroundings and the little head on his shoulder and he remembered. "Oh, right."

Horatio put his hand on Elijah's back as Eric stood up. "Do you want me to—"

"No, I'll do it," Eric said somewhat territorially. Horatio smiled and handed him the bag with the two train sets he had bought. "Outside?"

"Yes," Horatio replied.

Eric walked away from him and it wasn't until he made it to the front of the store that he realized it was getting dark outside and he was glad for that. What he wouldn't give for this day to be over. Exhausted, he pushed the doors open and immediately spotted a white van, a heavy woman waiting by its side.

When she saw him, she smiled and approached. "Is that him?"

"Yeah," Eric said.

"Thank you for waiting, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner," she said.

"Part of the job," Eric replied, and it wasn't until she extended her arms to him and raised her eyebrows suggestively that he realized she wanted him to give her the kid.

Right.

Except now he was a little bit reluctant. Who the hell was this woman? What were her credentials? Was the white van a decoy? She never even showed him a badge...

Eric shook his head; he was being paranoid now. "Right," he said and peeled Elijah off his body. She grabbed him and bounced him in her arms a couple of times, something that seemed ridiculous to Eric, since Elijah was still asleep. He frowned.

"Okay, you have to be careful with his back, cause it's tender," he said, and he was sure he sounded a bit bitchy, but he couldn't believe this woman was an expert when she wasn't even holding him right.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

Eric rolled his eyes, and as she placed Elijah in a car seat in the van, he reached into the bag and took out one of the train sets. "Here, this is his. None of the other kids are allowed to play with it."

The woman laughed, though Eric couldn't see what was so funny. "I'll make sure of it."

"Okay," Eric said. He walked over and carefully extracted his badge from Elijah's grip, which was stronger than he could have imagined for a three year old. Not really knowing what to do next, Eric just ruffled his hair and took one step back when the woman shut the door.

"We'll keep in touch with your supervisor," she said.

"Okay," Eric replied, watched as she hopped inside and drove away. He looked around, still not really knowing what to do, and squeezed his biceps, sore from carrying Elijah around all day. Didn't bother him, though. Letting out a sigh, he turned around and jumped again when he saw Horatio there, staring into the distance with his hands on his hips.

"Jesus Christ," Eric exclaimed, his hand covering his heart. Horatio really needed to start wearing a bell around his neck or the entire staff would end up in an insane asylum.

"His father is driving in from San Francisco," Horatio said solemnly. "I talked to him, seems like a good man."

Eric nodded. "Good."

"You okay?" Horatio asked.

Eric frowned at him and began to walk towards the Hummer. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Horatio followed. "It's a sad case."

"Yeah," Eric said absentmindedly. "So is Calleigh's case, so is Ryan's case; they're all sad."

Horatio nodded. "True. But you were with him for a while, there. I thought—"

Eric chuckled dryly. "What did you expect me to do, H, chase the van down the street, force it into a stop and sign the adoption papers?"

"No," Horatio said. "But even Speed got a little emotional, I thought it would hit you the hardest."

Eric froze in place; his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"But, I guess I was wrong," Horatio said, patting his back. "Bright and early tomorrow. Ryan's gonna give you a ride."

"Wait a minute, whoa, whoa," Eric exclaimed, forcing him to stop and turn around. "What are you saying that this was all some kind of test?"

"Not exactly a test," Horatio said.

"Then what?"

Horatio thought about it for a while. "I guess it was a test," he said. "See you tomorrow."

"No, no, no!" Eric said sharply, making him stop again. "Are you telling me I went through all of that just so you could teach me a lesson?"

Horatio shrugged his shoulders. "Among other things."

"What other things?"

"Amusement, boredom. But mostly I just wanted to teach you a lesson," Horatio said.

Eric's eyes were suddenly wide and a bit frantic, his mouth open in shock. "What the fuck for?!"

"Because, it's not always about fingerprints and promotions, we're here to care about the victims, too," Horatio said matter-of-factly. "You thought what you did today in there was useless? I'm sure Elijah Harris disagrees."

"That's it?" Eric shook his head. "You could have just told me that, you know. You didn't have to rip my heart out and stomp all over it like this!"

"I thought you said this was just another case. Nothing special."

"And you believed me?" Eric exclaimed.

"Eric—"

"You know, now you owe me one for doing this," Eric said.

Horatio smiled. "I'm not switching with you for Calleigh."

Eric's eyes widened. "You owe me!"

"Night, Eric," Horatio said and walked away.

"I've got Yelina!"

"No you don't," Horatio said.

Eric sighed. "Should've just told me, I would have understood."

"No you wouldn't have."

"Well... probably not, but I wouldn't feel like blowing my fucking brains out right now!"

Horatio ignored him, got into his Hummer and drove away. Eric watched him go and frowned. Stupid Horatio with his stupid Danny Tanner-ish lessons. Only two words remained in his mind at that moment: friendly fire.

Suddenly he felt someone stand next to him, and Eric didn't have to look over to know who it was. He shook his head and started to walk away. "Alright, let's go get hammered."

"Finally!" Ryan followed.