Title: Unknown

Chapter14

Author's Notes: Timeline note—I'm skipping ahead a couple of weeks, so this chapter takes place approximately a month after the story started.

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Almost three weeks have passed since Frank and I interviewed Dylan Carmichael. Since that time, we haven't had a single new lead, even though we recanvassed the area, trying to find someone else who saw Brendan Carver's mystery girl. Last week, H finally decided to shelve the case until we find new evidence. I get the impression that H didn't make that particular decision alone. Word has it that H was pressured to "redirect department resources to more productive cases."

Consequently, H has been in a mood.

On the up side, H's bad mood has nothing to do with me. In fact, I've recently worked my way back into his good graces by finding a key piece of evidence on a case we just wrapped up.

On the home front, things are still and relaxed. Mark is a little tense because of work, but so far, things between us are good. I know this is just the calm before the storm, though. Inevitably, I'll say or do something stupid, and Mark will snap. This time, though, I'm not running. I mean, if I want this relationship with Mark to work, I have to put in the effort. It can't be all him.

My relationships with Calleigh and Eric have evened out a little…well, everything's back to normal with Calleigh. Eric's been keeping his distance, though. He's not brushing me off or anything like that. He's more just keeping things cool and professional. I'm not sure if this is because he's still wigged out by the fact that Mark thinks Eric and I are hot and heavy for each other, or if it's because he's doesn't want to cause anymore tension between Mark and me. I want to believe the latter.

Late in the afternoon, Eric breezes into the trace lab and hands Sam an evidence bag. "Hey," he says, nodding first at Sam, and then at me.

"What've you got?" Sam asks, taking the bag and inspecting it gingerly.

Eric grins. "That's what you geniuses are supposed to tell me."

Sam glances at me, and in his most serious voice, says, "Well, Speedle, at least he recognizes our vast talents."

"It's about time somebody does," I deadpan.

Laughing softly, Sam glances at the clock. "H was in here looking for you half an hour ago, Delko. Late lunch?"

"Uh, no," Eric says, peeking at his watch. "I had to stop by and see my priest." He bites his bottom lip. "Is he mad?"

Sam smiles sympathetically. "He put his hands on his hips and sighed."

Eric winces. "Great."

I lean forward. "You all right, Delko?"

Eric frowns. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you had to go see a priest." Shrugging, I gesture in Eric's direction. "I don't know. That sounds pretty serious. I mean, no one died or anything, right?"

Eric smiles at me as if I just said the most idiotic thing he's ever heard. "No, Speed. Nobody died."

"Nobody except our victim, right gentlemen?" H says, as he strolls through the door. "Nice to see you, Eric."

Sam, Eric, and I all stare uncertainly at H. With the mood he's been in lately, it's best that we all choose our words carefully.

Finally, Eric fearlessly breaks the silence by saying, "I found a gooey substance on our vic's tires, H. I was just dropping it by trace."

H nods. Placing his hands on his hips, he says, "Sounds good. Keep me posted."

"Will do," Eric says.

I feel a vast amount of sympathy for Eric at the moment. He and Calleigh managed to wrap up their Pickle-guy mystery (or as everyone in the lab calls it, "The Fast Food Frenzy"). As it turns out, the killer was a man who worked as a walking advertisement for a beachside burger joint. The whole thing ended with Eric having to chase the guy—who was dressed as a giant hamburger—down the beach, in the middle of the day.

So, basically, Eric is never going to live it down. People have been saying things like "Now that's what I call fast food" to the poor guy for days.

Plus, now he gets the dubious honor of being partnered with H. This is good for me because it means the boss no longer deems it necessary for me to have a baby sitter. It's somewhat problematic for Eric, though, who seems to have recently taken over for me as resident lab screw-up.

Placing his sunglasses purposefully onto his face, H turns toward the door. "I have a meeting, gentlemen. If you need me, page me."

Biting my bottom lip to stifle a chuckle, I nod. "Good luck, H."

"Thanks," he says, almost to himself, "I'll need it."

-----

After H disappears, I turn to Sam. "You got this? I haven't had lunch yet."

Sam glances up. "I'm more than a match for a little goo," he says.

Smirking, I tug off my lab coat and stroll into the hallway. It doesn't take me long to realize I'm being followed.

"Hey, Speed," Eric says, as he catches up to me. "Can we talk?"

I turn left into the break room. "Sure," I say. "What's up?"

"Uh," Eric says, shifting from one foot to the other. "I was wondering what you and Mark are doing tomorrow night."

"You want the PG version?" I quip. Almost as soon as I say it, I wince. "Kidding, Delko."

Eric licks his bottom lip. "Whatever. So, what are you doing?"

I tug open the refrigerator and pull out my lunch. "Well, Mark's actually leaving tomorrow morning. He has to go to DC for a week—a thing with his job. Speaking at some meeting about everglades or something."

"So, it's just you?" Eric asks.

Walking over to the microwave, I toss my food inside close the door. As I punch the buttons on the timer, I say, "Yeah. Why? What's going on?"

Eric licks his lips and glances up at the ceiling. "Remember me telling you about that band?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well," Eric says, "They're playing tomorrow night. Calleigh and Hagen are coming."

"And Hagen? I thought she was done with him." I frown, plunking myself down at a table.

Eric shrugs. "Yeah, well, she wanted to bring him." Sitting down across from me, Eric says, "I was going to ask if you and Mark wanted to come."

I hadn't forgotten Eric's invitation. I'd sort of given up on going, though. My relationships with both Mark and Eric have been too rocky for me to bring it up. "I could probably go," I say, trying to sound casual.

"I don't want to cause trouble," Eric says.

Leaning back, I say, "Well, get Calleigh to call. Mark likes her. If she tells him it's a group thing, I'm sure he'll let me go."

Eric laughs and shakes his head.

"What?" I say.

Eric snatches a French fry from my tray. "Don't you think it's weird that you have to ask your boyfriend's permission before you do something?"

I glare. "I'm just trying to show him some respect, Delko. You know, I'm in a relationship. That takes work, Mr. Commitment-Phobe."

Now it's Eric's turn to glare. "I like commitment just fine."

Letting out a breath, I say, "I don't want to hurt him, Eric. He's been burned bad. Y'know, so he's a little insecure."

"Yeah, well, he's not the only one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eric gazes at me. "Nothing. I'll have Calleigh call, okay? I want you to come."

I nod. "All right, Delko."

With that, Eric stands up, steals another French fry, and then breezes out the door.

-----

Calleigh can sweet talk almost anyone. It took her all of four minutes to coax Mark into practically ordering me to go out with everyone. Actually, Mark's being really great about all of this. I don't know. Maybe he's realized he doesn't have to worry so much about me.

In any case, I'm glad to be going out. I haven't spent the night away from Mark since the night I spent in that hotel, and with him gone for the week, I'm glad for the distraction.

I wind up catching a ride over with Eric. I figure if he gets lucky or something, I can catch a bus or a cab home. I've done it before. That's life being Eric's wingman. It's funny, though. I feel almost guilty having Eric come to my place without Mark being there. I keep having this fear that Mark'll realize he's forgotten something, and he'll come home to get it just in time to see me getting into Eric's car.

"So, uh…new shirt?" Eric says, as we round the corner leading away from my building.

I glance down at myself. "Yeah, I ruined my last good white shirt."

Eric raises an eyebrow. "How'd you do that? Or do I want to know?"

"Actually, I got ash and blood on it when you and I were in that club fire."

Glancing at me, Eric says, "And that's how often you buy clothes?"

I grin. "Well, being around you is very dangerous, you know. I'm almost afraid to buy new clothes."

Eric flashes a mock-frown and shakes his head.

Smirking, I add, "Hopefully there won't be any fires tonight."

Eric licks his lips, glances at me, and then lets out a silent laugh.

-----

"No, I'm not saying that." Calleigh crosses her arms and turns about half-an-inch away from Hagen.

Undeterred, Hagen pivots himself around until he's facing Calleigh. "Well, then what?"

Calleigh lets out a breath. "Look, I don't want to talk about this here."

"We're already talking about it," Hagen says.

Eric and I exchange glances. A brief smile flashes across Eric's otherwise calm features, and I have to look away so I won't bust out laughing.

Really, it's not very funny. Calleigh and Hagen have been sniping at each other all night, even during the band's performance…something about a case that she and Hagen worked on…now it's gone to trial, and there's a snag. Naturally Hagen thinks it's all Calleigh's fault. This is par for the course with them, though.

Finally, Calleigh stands up, trying to rally what's left of her fading dignity. "Gentlemen, I'm going to visit the ladies room."

Hagen stands up to follow, but Calleigh shoots a glance over her shoulder. "You're not invited, John," she says.

Letting out a breath, Hagen glances at his watch. "I have to make a phone call." He walks a few feet, and then turns back to Eric and me. "I'm sorry. We should have left this at home."

"She should have left him at home," Eric says under his breath.

As we watch Hagen clomp away, I turn to Eric and deadpan, "It's the little moments like these that memories are made of."

Eric grins and nudges me with his elbow. "It's nice to have you back."

I let out a chuckle. "What do you mean?"

He gestures toward me. "This is the Tim Speedle I remember. He's fun when you loosen him up."

"As opposed to the boring guy I am the rest of the time," I say.

"No," Eric says, holding up a finger. "Not boring. Reticent."

"Reticent?" I say. "That's a big word, Delko."

"For a dumb jock?" Eric says. He's smiling, so I don't think he's serious. At least not totally. Sometimes, I get the impression that Delko doesn't think he's as smart as Calleigh or H or me. It probably doesn't help that Tyler occasionally has to "dumb down" his computer lingo to get Eric to understand him.

Leaning forward, I say, "You're not a dumb jock, Delko. You're a talented diver and a talented CSI."

Eric shifts in his seat. "And smart and handsome and witty?"

I roll my eyes dramatically, and Eric laughs in response.

"To be honest," I say, clearing my throat, "I do have to question your sanity. I mean, swimming in all that bacteria…"

"Well, I do like danger," Eric says, sitting up straighter.

I smirk. "You trying to find a pocket of radiation down there? Turn into a comic book superhero?"

Eric tries and fails to look humble. "Well, I do look good in tights."

"Is that why you like to slap on that wet suit? To show off your impressive body?"

Eric grins as though he's won something. "You think my body's impressive?"

Just then, we both hear someone clear their throat. When we glance up, we see Calleigh, her face scarlet red.

"I hate to do this to you, boys," she says, glancing at the floor. "But John and I are heading out."

"Taking the fight to another venue?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

Calleigh slaps a smile on her face. "Oh, no. We're fine."

Eric stands up. "You want us to go out there and kick his ass?"

Calleigh laughs. "Down boy." Snatching Hagen's car keys off the table, Calleigh glances first at Eric, then at me. Finally, she waves and says, "Behave yourselves, guys."

Swallowing, I decide to take advantage of Calleigh's exit. "I think I'll head out, too, Delko."

"What?" Eric says, turning his body so that he's directly facing me. "You gonna leave me here all alone?"

"You're a big boy, Delko," I say, as I stand up.

Reaching out to grab the sleeve of my shirt, Eric mock-whines, "Wait a minute. You're hurting my feelings, here. I'm very sensitive, you know."

Shaking my head, I sit back down. "You are?"

"Yeah," he nods earnestly. Scooting his chair closer to mine, he says, "People here'll think I don't have any friends. You want me to look unpopular?"

I can't seem to think of a witty comeback, so I just chuckle.

"I'm serious," Eric whines. "You could damage my self-confidence."

I roll my eyes. "Delko, you have self-confidence to spare."

Eric stirs what's left of my drink with his index finger. "That could be all an act," he says.

I glance around, suddenly feeling the urge to have something really cold to drink. "Then you're a convincing actor," I say.

"Speed," he says gripes, patting me on the shoulder. "You don't have a reason to go home this early. Keep me company."

Tugging at my bottom lip, I say, "You'll pick up some poor, unsuspecting person in no time."

Leaning forward, Eric glances at me, flashes a small grin, and then fixes his gaze on the ice and alcohol left in my glass. "I'm working on it."

Suddenly, it occurs to me that I've seen Eric act like this before—every time he drags me out to a club so he can pick up a girl. Like a flood, the reality hits me—Eric is flirting with me, and I'm pretty sure it's intentional.

Yikes.