Author's Note: Hello everyone. This is my very first Calleigh/Ryan fanfic so I'd really love to hear what you guys think. I hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Miami or any of the characters. They're just fun to play with.

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"Ryan?"

"Calleigh?"

"Sorry it's so late... Can I come up?"

"Uh yeah. Sure." Because, what else can he say? He pushes the button, the buzz ringing in his ears.

"Thanks..."

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He doesn't know why she comes to him because, it's not like they're close or anything. Sure, they work together but, that doesn't make them best buddies who hang out on the weekends. Best friends that call each other "just because".

He doesn't get why she picks him over Delko or Alexx, even Horatio. They're the ones she trusts, they're the ones she cares about.

He doesn't know why she comes to him.

There isn't anything special about him. He's just the New Guy. The Replacement. Hard to shake a title like that and a little too easy to resent it.

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"Calleigh, why are you here?" He isn't really angry or annoyed, just confused.

"Well, were friends, aren't we?"

"We are?"

"Yes, Ryan. You're my friend." Her voice is firm and her eyes are sad but he still has to ask:

"Why me?"

She's doesn't answer, just walks up, wraps her arms around his waist and barriers her face in his chest. Her quiet words are muffled.

"I need-...a friend."

He caves, strategically placed defenses crumbling, and hugs her back. "I'm just- of course we're friends, Cali...I'm here." He whispers into her hair, "But it still doesn't answer my question."

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He's never been an expert in the field of comforting crying girls but, he always seems to do just fine when it comes to her. He's strokes her back lightly and she presses them closer.

Ryan knows Calleigh Duquesne is a strong, independent woman. He knows that whatever happens or whatever is said when she comes over, isn't weakness, she's just being human. They're all human. They all get involved.

Some crimes touch just a little to close to home.

And when you work with death, it's easy to forget you're alive.

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"It's just...She was his mother, Ryan! He was just a little kid!" The Murderous Mother case. This is why she needs someone now. Why him, he still can't figure out.

"I know, Cali."

"Mother's are suppose to love their children, not kill them!

"I know."

And he does know. He sees just as much blood and brains and gore. All leaking and spilling and oozing from all the same dead, cadaverous bodies. He even gets to take photographs. Freezing the moments in time when death is messy and out of control all around him. He analyses all the same guns and knives and even deadly pillows. Fucking pillows. He watches the guilty walk free, too. Lives cut too short and broken families laying, suffering in their shadow.

Sometimes he gets to brake the families.

He has nightmares about the lifeless corpses and the tortured souls.

He wants to tell her. Make her understand he has to deal with this too. They all do. But all that gets past his throat is:

"Shh. It's ok. I know."

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"Thanks for listening, Ryan." Her eyes are downcast and she's so tired, so drained.

"No problem, Cal."

"I guess I'll go now. See you at work tomorrow." The smile she forces is small but grateful as she gets up to leave.

"How did you get here?" His sudden words make her stop. Or maybe it's the concern.

"I walked..."

"You walked? Calleigh, you live an hour away." He's shocked she'd walk all that way just to see him. Too be with him.

"It's a nice night...Full moon, you know. Stars."

"Nah. There's no way I'm letting you walk home all by yourself. It's 3 in the morning." Guilt laces her features.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan. I've kept you awake...I'll be fine. See you later."

"Cali, I'm not letting you go. You can crash on my couch tonight." He gives her his best reassuring smile, "I'll just go grab you a blanket."

But before he can turn around, there's a hand on his arm. Soft skin on his.

"Ryan? I don't want to be alone..." There's something in the way she's looking at him. Her eyes are like the ocean. Blue and deep and dangerous. He can't tell the difference between them and the real thing. She's lost.

"Alright, come on." He takes her hand, leading her down the hall to his bedroom.

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Ryan sleeps with Calleigh Duquesne.

It'd be extremely weird, almost surreal, if it weren't so...true.

It's not every night, but it's often enough.

And whatever this is, it's out of control and Ryan Wolfe doesn't do mayhem. But like everything else, it's different with her. Even if she's messy and complicated.

Somewhere along the way, he's become a lifeline. Maybe he keeps her from drowning in the death. Keeps her above the destruction.

Right now, the steady rise and fall of her chest is soothing, the arm draped across him isn't setting off alarms in his head, and their impossibly close proximity, is making his heart beat loud enough to hear.

He doesn't know why she comes to him but, he's glad she does.

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"I need you, Ryan." She's asleep and dreaming of him.

And only when they're like this, tangled in each other, safe in his bed, that he can admit:

"I need you too, Calleigh."

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End.