A/N: This is not part of my CSI50 for Calleigh Duquesne. It is, however, an idea that wormed its way into my head and refused to be ignored. Plus, I was blocked for Calleigh fic ideas and my zen-master roommate instructed me to start writing this story and allow myself to be free from the confines of my own imagination. Enjoy a little something different.

Prologue

Ryan had the worst luck in the world. This thought had occurred to him several times before: when his girlfriend had dumped him on prom night, when his face had been plastered all over the news and he'd been labeled a leak to the media, when his boss had caught him gambling on the job and fired him, and—oh, yes—when he'd been shot in the eye with a nail gun.

This, however, trumped all of those things.

He shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his head buried in his files and ignored her as she stood at the reception desk and demanded to see his co-worker. Perhaps if he had this whole thing…well, this whole thing would've happened anyway. But at least he wouldn't have been a part of it.

But he hadn't ignored her. Mainly because he'd approached the reception desk from the hallway behind and had caught a glimpse of her face. And she was gorgeous. Drop-dead, plucked from the magazines, too good to be true gorgeous.

"I'm looking for Eric Delko," she stated simply to the receptionist. "I was told he works here."

Ryan's heart sank. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she was looking for Delko. Of course she was looking for Delko—they were always looking for Delko. Still, it was Lent, and although he was technically Jewish, it seemed it was the done thing to try to be a better person during Lent. "Eric Delko?" he'd asked, stopping just short of the desk.

She'd raised her lovely eyes—they turned out to be a warm honey color he found altogether very pleasing—to him and smiled. "Yes, can you help me?"

"Yeah, sure," he's shrugged and even offered a smile back. "Have a seat, I'll go get him for you." It wasn't until he'd rounded the desk that his smile faded. She turned toward the lobby of couches and his eyes landed on her enormous stomach. "Whoa," he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Yeah, tell me about it," she muttered before waddling into the lobby and easing herself into an uncomfortable chair. "Could you tell him it's kind of urgent?" she called as he headed down toward the labs.

"Oh my God," Ryan muttered to himself.

His stomach twisted further into a knot when he realized that Eric wasn't alone in the trace lab. He was with Calleigh. They were standing close together and he seemed to be playing with a piece of her hair while she stood over a microscope.

"Eric," she laughed and gave him a playful shove. "I'm working."

"Hey, did I tell you I had a really great time last night?" he asked, moving closer.

She smiled to herself. "You might have mentioned it..."

"I was thinking maybe we could—" Eric stopped when he realized that Calleigh's eyes had moved from him to the doorway.

Ryan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, hey guys."

"What's up, Wolfe?" Eric asked, noticeably disappointed when Calleigh moved to the other side of the table.

"Sorry to uh…well, it's kind of urgent," Ryan scratched at the back of his neck and looked to the floor.

"What is it?" Calleigh asked, shutting off the microscope. "Did you get a hit off of CODIS?"

"What?" He had forgotten why she had sent him to DNA. Damnit. "No, I uh…I didn't make it there yet."

"Ryan," she rolled her eyes, "what have you been doing?"

"There's someone here to see you, Delko."

Eric perked up. "Who is it?"

"Uh, she didn't give me her name but she's uh…she's y'know, she's your type."

He raised an eyebrow. "My type, huh?"

"You know…Latina, long dark hair, big lips, really pretty...hugely pregnant."

Calleigh dropped the spare slide she'd been toying with. Eric's eyes widened. "She's what?"

"Enormous. And she said it's urgent that you go talk to her." Ryan read the panic on his friend's face. "And I already told her you were here…so you can't run out the door."

Eric let out a heavy sigh. "This is great."

"I mean, her being pregnant might have nothing to do with you…with why she's here," Ryan back-peddled nervously. "She might just actually need your help."

This did something for him. He stood up straight and gave a nod. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just going to go…" he ran a hand over his scruffy chin. "I'll just go see what's up."

Calleigh offered a tight smile, any sign of their flirtatious banter completely gone. "Good luck."

Ryan waited until Eric was down the hall before he let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm sorry, Cal, if I was interrupting anything."

She produced another impassive smile. "You weren't."

"Are you sure? I thought there was something going on."

With a gaze in the direction of the lobby, Calleigh sighed. "Not anymore."

"She really could just need his help," he said softly, wishing that—among everything else—Calleigh hadn't been there when he'd delivered that news. "She could be happily married and on baby number five…or something."

x0x0x

But she hadn't needed his help—at least, not in the way Ryan was suggesting. She'd needed to tell him that her name was Rosha Ortiz—a name he'd vaguely remembered—and that she was eight and a half months pregnant with his kid.

A/N: Hope you'll going to give it a chance, I'm trying not to be cliché. Your thoughts please?