Title: Paper Crane
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Speed/Tyler
Rating: PG

He understands the math behind it. A few folds in the right places, carefully planned out to create a specific shape. It's science, in a way – a sort of architecture, but that doesn't make the tiny paper crane that lands on his knee any less surprising.

It's followed almost immediately by a chubby pair of hands, tiny and pressing hard against his thigh. He looks away from the paper crane to find big brown eyes staring up at him, a wide, toothy grin on the face hovering just above his knee.

"Hi," he says, resisting the urge to squirm. Because he's not scared of a two-year-old – at least he thinks she's two, but he's never been any good at guessing that kind of thing. "Is this yours?"

She nods, eyes growing impossibly wider as he picks up the paper crane and hands it back to her. Her little fingers clutch it carefully by its paper tail, eyes darting to the silver bird for a second before she holds it out again, pushing it toward Speed's chest.

"Did you make that?" He knows it's a stupid question, because she's way too young for something as complicated as origami, but she's still staring at him, shoving the bird more or less insistently toward him, and he's not sure what she wants.

She shakes her head and pushes it toward him again, then leans harder against his leg and looks behind her at the kids up on the stage. One chubby finger points toward a group of kids near the edge of the stage, and Speed picks out the one that looks the most like her almost immediately. "Your brother made it?"

That gets him a vigorous nod and another toothy grin, and he clears his throat to check the smile that's threatening to form. He has no idea what else to say, though, and he still hasn't figured out what the kid wants.

"I think she's trying to give it to you."

The voice comes from behind him, low and amused and he glances up as Tyler slides into the seat next to him. He leans in close, smiling down at the little girl still leaning against Speed's leg and holding the paper crane in the air. "Is that for him?"

Another vigorous nod, and Speed can't help wondering if the kid's going to hurt herself, rattling her brain around like that. But he holds out a hand when Tyler nudges him hard with an elbow, and a second later there's a paper bird in his hand and a chubby toddler running down the aisle toward the stage.

"What was that about?"

He looks from the crane to Tyler, frowning at the other man's amused grin. "It's a present, you're not supposed to question it."

"Yeah, but why me?"

"Why not you? She likes you. And personally," Tyler says, leaning close enough for his words to warm Speed's skin, "I think she's got pretty good taste."

He punctuates it with a soft kiss to the corner of Speed's mouth, then he stands up and climbs over Speed's legs to back toward the stage. "I've just got to make sure everybody knows their part and then we can go home and find a place to put your present."

Tyler's laughing at him – that much is obvious, but Speed just shakes his head and looks back down at the paper crane still sitting in his hand. And he's heard the stories about the legend of the paper crane, vaguely remembers something about wishes and peace, but he's a scientist and he doesn't believe in that stuff. Still, it was a gift, and it is kind of…pretty.

He carefully folds it flat and tucks it into his shirt pocket, making sure not to catch the delicate beak on the fabric and tear the paper. He sees the little girl one more time while he's waiting for Tyler to finish with his rehearsal, raising a tentative hand when she waves vigorously from across the room. This time he doesn't bother trying to check his smile, shaking his head at himself as he reaches up to make sure the crane's still tucked into his pocket.

When he gets home he fishes the folded paper out of his pocket, carefully tugging it back into shape before he sets it on the living room bookshelf between the forensics journals Calleigh keeps passing on to him and a picture of Tyler's sister. He feels a little stupid about keeping it – it's just a piece of paper, after all, but it makes him think of tiny hands and a sweet, wide-eyed grin, and that seems like reason enough.