Title: In A Box Author & Beta: Shadowfax27 Fandom: CSI: Miami Pairing: Eric/Ryan but very subtle Rating: PG or K Disclaimer: I wouldn’t be feeding Prompt Penguins if I owned them… Or would I? Spoilers: A bit of Season 5’s “Throwing Heat” Summary: Sometimes the best gifts are the most understated – the smallest things that can fit in a box. A/N: I guess you could consider this as the missing scene at the end of S5 episode: "Throwing Heat". ----- In A Box It has been a nightmare of a day, probably one of the worst ones in your life. It’s supposed to be your day off, but now, it looks like you won’t be having one for a while. And instead of sleeping soundly in your bed tonight, you’re going to be lying there awake, sleepless and thinking about the costly mistake you just made. It makes you think twice about the next time you volunteer to lend a hand in a case. It makes you wish you could press rewind, edit, and then replay. A heavy sigh expels from your chest as you finally walk back to the locker room. Forlorn. Quiet. Empty. Just like you’re feeling right now. Just like your wallet and your bank account will be soon enough. You pack up your things and get ready to go home when you hear an unexpected and familiar voice speak your name softly. It startles you just a bit, and you whirl around to see him standing there, a shy smile and an apologetic look on his suddenly boyish face. “I, uh… heard about what happened,” he confesses timidly. “Here…” he says, not waiting for a response as he steps forward abruptly, reaching an arm over to set a tiny white box on the top shelf of your locker. Your eyes curiously follow his actions, watching intently as he steps back and clears his throat. He shoves his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, the movement unassuming as he peeks at you through his eyelashes. You wait for him to speak. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says finally. “I just want you to know that I also have your back.” And with that, he turns on his heels and walks away, leaving you momentarily dumbfounded, frozen in place. It happens so quickly that it takes you a few seconds to process the scene, and you shake your head and blink your eyes rapidly as you turn your attention back to your locker. Eventually, you reach up to hold the small container in your hand, opening it with just the slightest bit of trepidation. There, in the box, lies a silver key – an invitation for you to find solace and comfort and friendship in the welcoming warmth of Ryan’s home. You hold the key up in your hand, a smile finally gracing your face for the first time since being served. And you think that sometimes the best gifts are the most understated – the smallest things that could fit in a box. You fold your hands over the tiny object, clutching it dearly in your fist before placing it in your pocket. At last, you grab your bag and close your locker, walking out with the faintest of hopefulness and determined steps. And for once, you feel grateful that you have such caring colleagues – coworkers you won’t hesitate to call friends. You get in your car and start the short drive home. As depressing as your situation is, you admit that it’s a damn good feeling to have such good, loyal people watching your back. Your eyes begin to mist at the thought, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. No… It’s time to move on and make the best of this appalling situation. Time to accept the reality that you’re going to need your friends’ help, that you’re going to need them to watch your back for a while. It’s time to let go of your pride. You reach your apartment, park your car, and climb up the stairs. And as you turn your key in the lock, you remember the silver one that was graciously given to you in a box. You step inside, lock the door behind you, and pull it out. Turning it over in your hand, you take a deep breath and head on over to your bedroom, setting the key down on top of your nightstand as you drop your bag at the foot of the bed, draping your jacket over it. You pull your cell phone out and hit one of the buttons on speed dial, your movements numb, automatic. A voice answers after two short rings, “This is Wolfe.” Forcefully, you swallow down the lump that has suddenly appeared in your throat. And you shut your eyes as you try to think of what to say. You really should’ve thought about these things before picking up the phone. “Hello?” his voice breaks through your thoughts, and you realize that you haven’t spoken a word. “Ryan…” you begin at length, hesitating just a second before introducing yourself, even though you’re fairly certain he already knows it’s you on the other line. “It’s Eric. Uh… About that key…” you trail off, unsure as to how to proceed. “Yeah?” he asks softly, waiting for you to continue. “I was wondering…” you preface a bit nervously, unconsciously pacing the length of your room now. You’re finding it really hard to continue, but fortunately for you, Ryan bails you out of your discomfort. “The offer still stands,” he tells you without wavering. There was quiet on the other line as you try to process what he just said. And when you finally do, you find yourself even more astonished than before, relief mingling with your stuttering reply. “Th- thank you…” you respond at long last, nodding your head in slow acceptance, even though you know he can’t see you. “Thanks a lot.” “No problem,” he answers back, and you’re certain you can hear the smile in his voice, despite the fact you can’t see his face either. He hears your relief in the faintness of your chuckle, and he eases your apprehension even more by offering you a way out just in case. “Listen, Eric…” he begins carefully, a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Don’t feel pressured to, uh… You know… I mean…” he stops, backtracks, struggling now to find the right words. “You’re not… You don’t have to…” You recognize what he’s trying to say, but you wait patiently for him to tell you anyway. You hear his sigh of frustration reverberate through the line, and the next time he speaks, he keeps it short and gets to the point quickly. “When you’re ready…” he trails off this time, and you understand exactly what the latter part of that statement implies. “Yeah…” you reply softly, nodding your head again in acknowledgement. “I know…” “Good,” he says finally, succinctly, and it makes you grateful that you can come to an understanding without the use of so many words. “See you tomorrow.” “Yeah… tomorrow.” You hear him click the phone shut and you follow suit soon after. You set your phone on top of the nightstand and fall back tiredly on the bed, fingers rubbing your face, raking through your hair as you sigh heavily. Hands clasped behind your head, you remain that way for a good while, absently staring up at the ceiling while your mind runs a thousand different scenarios in your head, weighing the pros and cons of each possible situation. You find yourself coming back to the same answer, the same conclusion every single time. You close your eyes at last, and it doesn’t take long before exhaustion overcomes you, sleep coming to claim and whisk you away. And when you wake up much earlier than usual the next morning, it is to the feeling of gratefulness and renewed optimism because you know that sleep has not only helped you to come to terms with the situation, dismal as it is, but that a night of heavy slumber has also aided you in coming to the right decision. With a groan, you sit up slowly, and the glint of the silver key, which is still sitting on top of the nightstand, catches your eye. You stare down at it for a few moments, your thoughts running through your options once again. Eventually, you find yourself nodding your head in confirmation, in approval of what you’re about to do, of what you’ve finally decided is the best solution. At last, you get up and walk over to your closet, pulling out your suitcases, opening them and setting each one on top of the bed. It’s time to move on. Time to pick up the pieces. Time to start packing your things. Time to do the most logical option. Time to do what you know is right… however long it takes. It’s time to give that silver key a proper place in your key ring because… You’re ready. ----- THE END Reviews can send the penguins a spawning… and their owner terribly giddy. A/N: This actually started out as a drabble (sort of a missing scene at the end of S5: "Throwing Heat"), but the penguin refused to be satisfied until it had grown into a ficlet. Demanding little thing! *grumbles* Wanna see how the penguins bite? You can leave me prompts here or on the “Wanted: Prompt Penguins” entry in my LJ.