[Fic] Comprehension 1/2 PG Empire Records/CSI Miami

[kat-songs.livejournal.com]

Title: Comprehension
Author: kat_songs
Rating: PG/PG-13
Spoilers: none
Set During season 5 of CSI Miami

 

 

 

 

Part One: Eric Delko Does Not Ever, Under Any Circumstances, Eavesdrop.

 

The problem with Ryan, Eric decided one day, was that he was impossible to get to know.  They were approaching the two year mark as co-workers and all Eric knew for certain about Wolfe that wasn’t in his personnel file were bits and pieces.

 

Fact: Ryan Wolfe was human, as far as anyone could tell.  Sometimes, when Eric and Coop were deeper in their beer mugs than they’d intended to be at the start of the night, they’d drunkenly debate whether or not Wolfe’s anal retentive qualities meant that he was some strange form of artificial intelligence.  The best argument against Coop’s bizarre theory was that no scientist would create a robot that had such a talent for being a dick when least expected.

 

Fact: Wolfe was a competitive bastard.  He never seemed to get tired of having his hypotheses win out over Eric’s or Calleigh’s.  When at the lab, Wolfe always wore an intense expression on his face – brow furrowed in a determined scowl, lips tight – until the evidence provided him with the results he wanted.  Then he shifted from focused to smug in an instant.  If someone watched very closely, they might catch a glimpse of excitement or gratitude, but for the most part, Ryan stuck with his two (very, very annoying) expressions when at work.

 

Fact: He was worse with money than Eric, and that was saying something.  Eric often wondered how someone who seemed to depend on everything being perfect, with no room for error, could have a gambling problem.  He never let himself dwell on Ryan’s problems for too long, though.  After just a few minutes devoted to thinking about Wolfe’s oddities he usually felt a stress headache building behind his eyes.

 

Fact: Wolfe never looked comfortable at the lab.  His complete inability to stand still for more than a few seconds when talking to a co-worker was irritating at best, and at worst it made Eric feel awkward and even more quick-tempered than usual.  The only times Ryan seemed at ease were in the field or interrogating suspects.

 

Well, not quite, Eric corrected himself.  A few times a year Ryan’s cell phone would ring nonstop and he’d suddenly look so completely happy that he was almost unrecognizable.  He’d duck into the break room for several minutes before going back to work, and perhaps an hour or so later, he’d get another call and his face would light up again.

 

Eric had never tried to get Ryan to tell him who was calling.  Frustrating as it was knowing next to nothing about his colleague, he had too much pride to try to wheedle personal information out of him.  Calleigh, on the other hand, had tried to find out who Ryan’s friends were, and had been met with a shrug and a brush-off at every attempt.  However, if Eric walked past the break room at the right time on those days (not that he’d stoop to eavesdropping, because he wasn’t that desperate to find out more about Ryan), he could catch snatches of one-sided conversations that gave him more questions than they answered.

 

Ryan had been working at the lab for a little over a month when Speed’s birthday rolled around.  Eric was feeling particularly snappish that day, and while Ryan stepping out to talk on the phone would’ve normally infuriated him, he was more relieved that the new guy wasn’t around every second.  That day, Eric had paused outside the break room, wanting to go in to get a cup of coffee, but not willing to spend any extra time with Speed’s replacement.  While he had hesitated at the doorway, he’d heard a part of Wolfe’s chat with someone who was, as far as Eric could judge, a close friend.

 

“No, it’s fine,” the newest CSI had said.  He’d sighed and added with a little chuckle, “Lucas was a total liar about how fantastic this place is, but – no, seriously, Deb.  It’s just new guy b.s.”

 

He’d paused, obviously listening to the person on the other end.  “Yeah, well.  Things will work themselves out.”  Another pause.  “Uh-huh.  Hey, anyway.  You taking good care of the Ducati?  I bet everyone at Spin is totally jealous.”

 

A laugh.  “How’s Chelsea? – You’re joking.  Why would you let Berko take her on tour with him?  Shouldn’t she be in school?”

 

Eric had realized at that point that if Wolfe suddenly hung up and looked toward the door, he’d be caught (not) eavesdropping, and walked quickly back to the ballistics lab to check with Calleigh about the bullet comparison results.  The snippet of conversation played in his head over and over again for the rest of the day.

 

Another time a few months later, Eric – and half the people in the lab under 35 – had tickets to go see Marc perform in Miami that night.  The popular rock band was on tour promoting its newest album, We’ll Always Have the Empire.  Eric had found himself in high good spirits, and not even Wolfe mouthing an apology at him as he fled to the break room could bring his mood down.  In fact, he’d decided earlier during the shift to offer his rookie colleague the other ticket as a way to help smooth over the bumpy time they’d had working together thus far.  When he reached the break room, though, he’d stood outside, waiting for Ryan’s phone call to end so he wouldn’t interrupt anything personal.

 

“Of course I’m coming,” Ryan had said reassuringly to whoever was on the other line.  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”  He’d fallen silent briefly, then spoken with surprise.  “My favorite?  I have to pick? – Oh, fine… ‘What’s with Today, Today?’ is probably my absolute favorite, but ‘Damn the Man’ is really good, too.” 

 

He’d laughed at the reply.  “Yeah, it’s a great idea.  I can’t imagine any better tribute to Lucas.”  He paused.  “Yeah, man.  I got the pass.  I’ll see you after.”

 

Eric had walked away at the telltale signs of the conversation winding down, curiosity burning in his mind.  Ryan had obviously been talking to someone who worked for Marc – a roadie, maybe, or even the manager.  Eric briefly entertained the idea that the person Ryan had been chatting with was the singer himself, Mark McConnell, but laughed to himself and dismissed the thought as ridiculous.  Wolfe was way too straight-laced to be friends with the wild rocker.  That night, he ditched his date for a few minutes to try to find the other man, but gave it up as hopeless fairly quickly.  Unless Wolfe was seated up in the nosebleeds, he wasn’t in the general access seats.

 

The next time Ryan’s phone had rung all day had been the one year anniversary of Speed’s death, and every time the tinny beeps split the air, Eric bristled and glared in his teammate’s direction.  Wolfe, of course, ignored his foul mood and disappeared into the break room for much longer conversations that day.  By the third phone call, Eric was ready to wring Wolfe’s neck, and followed him out of the trace lab, hoping for the opportunity to give him a piece of his mind.  He changed his mind at the sound of Ryan’s serious and slightly angry voice, and with the petty selfishness of someone who’s discovered another unhappy person, stood still outside the door to listen.

 

“Jesus Christ, Corey, how do you think I’m doing?” he’d snapped.  He’d immediately apologized, sounding contrite.  “I’m sorry.  Things are just – huh?  Exactly.”

 

He’d sighed heavily.  “How are you and A.J. doing?”  There was a long silence, and then:

 

“No, I hadn’t heard.  His own show?  Wow.”  Wolfe’s voice had lightened marginally.  “On Newbery Street no less.  I’m impressed.”

 

He’d paused and answered a question posed to him by his friend.  “Next year for sure, if we can make sure no one has other plans.  Lucas was always a procrastinator, but this is ridiculous.  How long can we put off having a wake, anyway?”  He’d laughed at the response.  “I don’t know about Berko or Gina, but everyone else says they’re free.”

 

Eric had left at that point, feeling mildly annoyed at Wolfe that his bad mood hadn’t lasted, and very annoyed at himself for caring.  He tried not to feel satisfied that he knew just a little bit more about the younger man.  His mental file of names associated with Ryan Wolfe was growing, as was his frustration that the names meant nothing out of context.  If he thought about it, he had to admit that even in context they hardly meant anything.  That just added to his aggravation, so he focused on running fingerprints and analyzing stains for the rest of the day with a ferocity that startled everyone but H.

 

Only a month or so after that, Eric found himself at the hospital, waiting for Ryan to come out of surgery, where they were removing the nail the suspect’s mother had shot into his eye.  Eric had been cycling through guilt (his responsibility, his fault, should’ve taken the call) and nervous, bitter tension (Wolfe was going to give him hell, Wolfe was going to hold this over him forever) at a nauseating speed.  Waiting in the hall for news, he’d thought unhappily, was worse than being in the room where the surgery was happening.  He’d clutched Ryan’s cell phone in one hand and his own in the other, tensed in anticipation of a call from the lab.  The phone call that came to Ryan’s cell, however, was a number he didn’t recognize.  He’d hesitated a moment, thumb hovering above the “call” button, before giving into temptation and answering.

 

“Ryan Wolfe’s cell phone,” he’d snapped.

 

“Hey, cell phone,” a scratchy, nasal voice had said in response.  “This is Sam.  Where’s Ryan?”

 

“He’s, uh, not available,” Eric had hedged.  “You want me to tell him anything?”

 

“Yeah,” the man on the other end of the line had said.  Eric could practically hear the smirk in his voice.  “Tell him Warren called to let him know I found the album he wanted.”  Then, to Eric’s annoyance, Sam or Warren or whoever he was hung up without so much as a thank-you.

 

Wolfe’s friends, he’d concluded, were just as irritating as the man himself.

Comments

[aguynamedgoo.livejournal.com]

Please properly tag your entry.

[kat-songs.livejournal.com]

There wasn't a tag for Empire Records, but I changed the heading to the format required ([fic] title rating fandom/fandom). Hope that works.

[aguynamedgoo.livejournal.com]

It doesn't. Please read the rules.

[kat-songs.livejournal.com]

Okay. Changed my tags. This line in the rules, "You MUST identify the fandoms that are being crossed-over in your story. You can do this by tagging your story or by including the information in the above header" caused some confusion, since it implied a choice in identifying fandoms, but no problem.

[kira-snugz.livejournal.com]

this is awesome. awesome awesome awesome

[kat-songs.livejournal.com]

yay! awesome is better than I'd hoped for. Thank you!