A/N: Many thanks to Jaglady for this inspirational challenge song... I hope this lives up to your expectations, JL! As usual, I don't own anything except my own brain, which is a questionable property at times to say the least
Amarillo By Morning by George Strait (excerpt)
They took my saddle in Houston
Broke my leg in Sante Fe
Lost my wife and a girlfriend
Somewhere along the way
Well I'll be looking for eight
When they pull that gate
And I'm hoping that
Judge ain't blind
Amarillo by morning
Amarillo's on my mind
Amarillo by morning
Up from San Antone
Everything that I've got
Is just what I've got on
I ain't got a dime
But what I've got is mine
I ain't rich
But Lord I'm free
Amarillo by morning
Amarillo's where I'll be**
'... I get the call out at 6:30 this morning to the American Airlines Arena with specific instructions from Horatio to where boots and something comfortable.'
'So?'
'Nat, it's an indoor arena.'
'Oooh. So what was the callout for? Someone die in the bathroom for at the food court?'
'Not exactly...'
**
Eric bent to look for his lunch in the refrigerator. He was fairly certain that the breakroom was slowly being taken over by the lab techs while the CSIs were in the field; he'd have to talk to H about that.
Where did my tupperware go? Mama made Ropa Vieja last night and sent the leftovers home with me; I was really looking forward to my lunch all morning!**
'Ummm, Eric.'
Ryan's voice broke through his hunger-driven quest. 'Huh? What?'
'Are you looking for your Mom's beef-thingy you were talking about this morning?'
'Yeah,' Eric mumbled, his head still jammed in the refrigerator.
'Hate to tell you this, man, but, ummm, Calleigh took it.' Ryan ducked his head and turned his glance toward Natalia who was trying desperately not to giggle.
Several seconds passed with no noises emanating from the general vicinity of the frig, then the door slammed shut.
'She did what?'
Wolfe cringed at his tone. 'She got hungry, said it looked good and that she'd had a rough morning... I think she was thinking of beef.'
'Not an excuse, Wolfe, not an excuse. If Horatio asks, you know where I'll be.'
**
Thank goodness I put this microwave down here. I could not stand the retelling of our "adventures" by Ryan in the breakroom; there is no way that story can end with my dignity intact. She took a large bite of Carmen Delko's culinary creation.
Oh. I am going to eat beef every day this week just to...'What have you done?'
'Hey, Eric. When did your mom make this? It is incredible. I love beef.'
'You,' he ground out, ' are eating my lunch.' He added a whiny
'it's all that I had' under his breath.
Calleigh attempted to swallow the large bite she had shoved in during his complaint.
'Eight seconds, Cal, eight tiny seconds to tell me why you are eating M-Y lunch.'
She swallowed quickly. 'It - ah - well, you see...'
'Cal, pleeeaaaasssse.'
'Okay, this morning Ryan and I got called out to the Arena and there was this rodeo there and one of the cowboys got trampled and gored by a group of cattle and Ryan got there first so he interviewed the witnesses, so I had to, well, interview the cows.'
'And this is related to my lunch because...'
'It made me hate cows, so I needed to eat them, but I also had to run the ballistics on the bullets that I found in... let's just say in with the cows.'
Eric held his head in his hands.
I have been dreaming of that spicy goodness all morning, Calleigh, he thought as he collapsed into one of the lab chairs.
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.**
She quietly observed her friend. It surprised her how possessive he was about the massive amount of ropa vieja, not that she ever underestimated the appetite of the young Cuban.
'Eric,' she whispered as she lay her hand on his arm. 'Eric, I'm sorry.'
He looked up after several seconds to see Cal chewing on her lip and moving her fingers to gently grasp his hand, worry etched on her brow.
'I know, Calleigh. It's okay; I know that I've been acting like I lost my girlfriend or something.'
'You know, Eric, there is a lot left here. Stay here with me to share. I don't have a thing to add to our picnic, but I'll make it up to you... promise.'
The hope on her face wound its way into his heart. He smiled as she raised a forkful toward him, waiting for him to open his lips.
**
'It didn't taste the same, Mama. Are you certain that you gave me the same Vieja that you served for dinner last night?'
He nodded his head slowly, believing her words.
'Si, si, mama. We ate it for lunch, not dinner... I know that I can't wait to eat it... si, it was in plastic, but... si, mama.'
Another long pause filled Eric's apartment.
'Who did I eat it with... why? Would that change things?' The chemist in him fought against the ridiculous words leaving his mouth.
'Fine, Mama... it was Calleigh. I ate your Vieja with Cal.'
Quiet and joyful laughter echoed through the phone line. His mother's obvious delight at his answer confounding Eric.
**
Carmen Delko smiled in her kitchen. Her boy would figure it out eventually, she had faith in that. Eventually she would have Calleigh Dusquense as her daughter-in-law, even if she needed to cook Ropa Vieja for her son every week.