Got the EC mojo working again! This is going to be a long one, but it is a Christmas fic. Supernova will be updated as time permits, and Carillon Beach will be dusted off and worked on soon. Enjoy.

Need a Miracle

One

He is working on Christmas Eve because he drew the short straw. Being an officer of the law is a job that unfortunately requires people always working, regardless of the holiday. He is working and they pulled someone from nights to work this shift with him. He doesn't mind, really, but he certainly does lament the fact that his family will be asking questions about he and Calleigh.

Christmas Eve dinner will be the fourth even he's shown up for without Calleigh. The last three times, not really wanting to tell the truth, he's said that she was working.

Of course his mother and sisters didn't believe that; he is a fantastically terrible liar, and they all know it. But for his sake, they've left him alone about it. He really doesn't want to discuss his back and forth relationship with Calleigh with anyone but Calleigh.

But she refuses to talk to him about it all.

He thinks that perhaps if he'd done better by her, then they'd be spending what would have been their second Christmas together.

Eric can see them now, walking down the street together, hand in hand with Calleigh leading him, going into store after store looking for Christmas gifts for everyone, on a list with a scale of importance. Actually, he thinks he might have kidnapped her, tricked her into taking time off from work and taking her away to some place snowy, so that she can experience a real Christmas. He thinks he would have taken her to Russia to see the other half of his family. His Russian relatives would love Calleigh as much as his mother's side of the family.

The fear of spending another holiday alone is a fear he'd thought he'd banished when he began his relationship with Calleigh. Eric loved spending time with her, he savored the everyday moments that he had with her in his presence, in his arms, all around him. The moments they spent apart were few and far between when they were together, and he finally had someone to cook for other than himself. Things were good, very good between them.

At least, that's what he'd thought.

While he is probably the worst liar in the world, she is a master at avoidance. She's been holed up in the lab for a few months, and it's given her plenty of opportunities to avoid him, or to have a brief work conversation and nothing else. She is elusive, too, he's never able to find her unless he calls or texts her, and then out of the blue, she appears, giving him that business like, yet tempting smile. Then, just like that, she's off again.

Eric just wants answers, a reason why. He thinks he deserves at least that much, after having a false sense that everything was just fine between them.

He may get the chance to talk to her sooner than he thinks.

He stops just short of the entrance to the ballistics lab when he finds that Calleigh is working too. She wasn't on for today when he checked the schedule last night, and what's more, he expected that she would be spending some time with her father.

Eric always asked about Duke, and she would, much like everything else remotely her-family-related, dodge the question and become irritated by his asking. Calleigh never liked that he was trying, in subtle ways, to get her to connect with her family, and when he discovered that it bothered her deeply, he stopped asking.

"You-you're not used to that," she said as she rested her head onto his chest in bed. "Your family is very close with each other. You...your family is...perfect, and you don't know anything else. It's not that simple for everyone."

He linked his fingers with hers and kissed her forehead.

"Carina, my family is far from perfect," he said.

"I don't mean it that way," she said, looking up at him. "I mean your family...is the ideal. Mom and dad love each other, you and your sisters are close, you were...privileged."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but she only grinned.

"Oh c'mon, love," she teased. "I've spent the night with you at your parents' house, which is fabulous, so don't even try it."

"Cal...we were taken care of, yes," he conceded. "But I wouldn't say privileged."

"That's only because you're modest like your father," she sighed.

"Even still, families aren't perfect," he reminded her. "I have a biological father who's a lieutenant in the Russian mob...I don't know about you, but I think that's pretty messed up. Wouldn't you agree?"

"That disturbing fact aside-"

"No, Calleigh, don't skirt around that one, babe."

Calleigh pouted a bit.

"Babe...don't pout."

"Alright, fine. It's weird, but..."

"Nope, but nothing," he chuckled as he kissed her pouting lips. "I know that things were hard for you growing up, but...you gotta count your blessings, too, you know?"

She looked away. "What if there are none to count?"

That he couldn't answer, nor tease her about.

Those are moments that he likes thinking about. Simple moments like relaxing in bed with her, or having dinner and a movie, or even playing a game of chess, which he always let her kill him in because she was cocky about her skills, and he secretly planned to one day just plain old kick her cute little ass. And then there were more sensual moments, like always admiring her calves. How many times had he skimmed his fingers along those calves? Felt them wrap around him when they made love? Too many exquisite, intimate times for him to care about a number.

Those images of her, among many others, have been hard to get out of his head.

That's how he knows he's in love with her.

Eric walks up to the doorway and he knocks.

Calleigh turns round, and she grins slightly.

"Hey you," she says. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles. "I thought you'd be with your dad or something."

"Not this year," she says softly, then she smiles. "And I thought you'd be with your family."

"I am, this evening," he explains.

"Good," she smiles. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I know, same here," he says, thinking that things shouldn't be this awkward between them.

They both fall silent for a few moments, until his phone dings, signaling a text.

He takes out his phone and checks it:

Make sure to get all casework to court before end of business 4:30 PM.

Pass on to Calleigh. -H

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "Just H. He said to get all of our casework to court by the end of the day. I have some evidence and files ready. What about you?"

"Oh um..." She pauses and pushes her hair behind her ears as she goes over to her workbench which doubles as a very cluttered desk. "Yeah...but I'll take them."

"No, I'm on my way out now, to get it over with. It's almost quitting time, so..."

"I'll ride with you," she says quickly. "If you don't mind."

"No," he says. "I've got the rest of the team's files ready to go, so..."

"Okay," she says, taking off her lab coat. "I'll meet you in the garage."

He nods.

After about ten minutes of waiting, he hears heels pounding onto the floor, and he knows it's Calleigh.

He takes the boxes from her and puts them into the back with the others.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

/\/\/\/\

Eric is regretting his decision to let Calleigh drive.

The problem is, she can't drive. For some reason, she believes that basic traffic rules and etiquette don't apply to her. She speeds, tailgates, changes lanes without signals...when they were together, he drove her around, and she thought that he was just being sweet, but really, he was doing it for his own personal safety. Ryan calls her Cruella behind her back.

They got to the courthouse in record time, even with Christmas shopping traffic, and they both signed in evidence and turned in files to the clerk. It took about thirty minutes total, and then they headed off. They both clocked out because their shift had only been from six to two. During Christmas, the shifts get pushed back. So for days, instead of coming in at eight, they come in at six, and for split shift, from six to eight, then from eleven to seven, and for nights and grave, eight to two and then the lab is closed on Christmas, but the station is still open and the same shifts apply there.

"So, dinner's at your parents' house?" Calleigh asks.

"Yeah," he says. "You know you're always invited."

"Thanks," she grins. "But...I think I'm gonna stay in. Watch Charlie Brown and It's a Wonderful Life."

Eric chuckles. "Over my mother's empanadas and famous hot chocolate?"

"With the chili peppers?"

"Yep. You know you want to," he teases.

She sighs. "Hmm, I do love that hot chocolate..."

"C'mon, it'll be nice," he says. "Besides, you'll save me from having to explain...us."

At that, she frowns and glances at him.

"Eric...what have you been telling your family?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I...I only tell them that you're working. That's it, I promise."

Calleigh sighs. "Your mother and sisters are smarter than that."

"I know they know it's BS," he says.

"And now they think that I'm a workaholic," she huffs. "Nice, Eric. You know that Teresa and Nina already hate me. You've now given them another reason."

"What? My sisters don't hate you," he says indignantly. "I-I wouldn't call it hate..."

"Okay, what would you call it then?"

"Strong dislike-"

"Oh, don't give me that," she hisses.

They lapse into silence for quite some time, before Eric spots a bank that's actually open.

"Calleigh, can you pull in right here?" He asks. "I need to get some cash."

"Oh, sure," she says.

She cuts in front of another driver, then she turns into the driveway of the bank. There are people leaving, and they've gotten in just in time. The ATM is closed, so he will have to go inside.

She kills the engine, and they get out and head inside.

"What are you coming in for?" He asks.

"I like the popcorn," she grins, and he rolls his eyes.

The lights are dim, and the bank manager is piddling around behind the teller stations.

"We-we're closing," the manager announces.

"I know, but I'll be quick," Eric promises. "Please, sir?"

The manager sighs. "Sure."

"Thanks."

Calleigh goes over and she smiles as she picks up a bag and begins to scoop up the last of the popcorn. She and Eric both bank at Miami Shore Mutual, and every time she comes in, she has to have a bag of popcorn. They don't pop the cheap stuff, they pop gourmet popcorn that is delicious, and she always leaves with a couple of bags.

"Eric, you want some popcorn?"

There is no answer, and she furrows her eyebrows.

"Eric?"

"Cal...babe, whether or not I want some popcorn is the least of our problems..."

She rolls her eyes when he let that endearment slip.

"Wha-our problems?" She asks quietly to herself as she turns. "What are you-oh..."

She drops her bag of popcorn.

Eric is being held at gunpoint by Montell Jackson, the bank manager who has a Ruger, and his assistant, Kyle Larson, who is holding an automatic rifle. Even though they are evenly matched bodies wise, Eric and Calleigh both know that to fight them would be a costly error, as neither of them have their weapons.

But that is only the first of three mistakes.

They went to court in her car, not the hummer, and the second mistake is that they both left their badges in the car.

Damn.

Calleigh puts her hands up, and Kyle comes over and grabs her arm.

"Move," he commands. "We're not going to hurt you. C'mon get moving."

"You too," Montell instructs. "Let's go. Now."

Now this is just utterly unbelievable.

Christmas Eve. Two bank employees robbing their own institution. Eric and Calleigh caught in the middle without weapons and badges.

How is it that the both of them combined have the kind of luck that drags in the doldrums of life?

Calleigh and Eric look at each other as they are forcefully ushered into the vault.

"Give us your purse, lady."

Calleigh hands over her two hundred and fifty dollar Coach purse with sadness in her heart. Everything, her whole life is in the purse: her planner, makeup, house keys, phone, wallet...everything. Never in her life has she ever been robbed, mugged, or caught in a robbery. There is a first for everything, she supposes, but this is extreme.

"Give us your car keys and your cell phone," Montell demands of Eric.

Eric takes out his phone and hands it over, then he tosses Kyle the car keys.

Kyle rummages through Calleigh's purse, and finally, he dumps it, frustrated with the cavernous purse, and all of Calleigh personal effects fall to the hard, marble floor. He picks up her phone and keys.

"Who's car is it?"

"Mine," Calleigh says.

Montell tosses Eric's keys back to him.

Montell holds them at gunpoint while Kyle empties out the cash.

Eric instinctively, gently takes Calleigh's hand and pulls her closer to him and she doesn't hesitate. She moves close enough to where he steps slightly in front of her, becoming a shield if they have the kind of robbers who are impulsive, jumpy, trigger happy, or sociopaths who can care less about loss of life.

Eric tries to work out the logistics of how he would go about distracting them enough to perhaps at least get Calleigh out, but it's not going to work. They don't even have the knife to bring to this gun fight. Any move he makes will not matter because if not one, the other will take a shot at them, and the only exit is blocked. He doesn't want to risk it, because Calleigh is strong, but against two men, she won't make it. He wouldn't dare sic her on the other one.

It's lose-lose.

Christmas music is playing over the intercom...Jingle Bell Rock.

He feels Calleigh grip his suit jacket tightly into her fists, and then her forehead resting onto his shoulder. She's having an anxiety attack, not from the situation, but from the small vault. She's become claustrophobic since the fires, she has nightmares about it every now and then, and when they were sharing a bed, he would be up with her until she calmed, give her water, and a sleep pill and hold her until she drifted off again. Her anxiety attacks are few and far between; after the poisoning, that same evening, she'd had an attack, and he had to take her to the doctor, and they put her on oxygen, and found that her lungs had become irritated. He was so worried about her, and she had to stay overnight for observation. Alexx dropped by after her shift and she told him to take care of Calleigh, and to try to limit their visits to the ER to at least once a year, she was so tired of seeing either one or both of them in Dade General.

She needs her inhaler, and Eric eyes it on the floor near her purse.

She's hyperventilating now, and he faces her.

"Cal..."

"What's wrong with her?" Montell asks.

"She's having an anxiety attack," Eric explains. "She needs her inhaler."

"E-E-Eric...I'm...f-f-fine..."

"Babe, you need it," Eric insists, then he turns back to Montell. "It's right there...I'm not going to rush you, alright? She just needs her inhaler."

Montell, sees that the woman is indeed having trouble breathing, and he nods.

"Okay," he concedes. "Slowly."

Eric nods, then he moves slowly, the gun trained at his head as he moves toward Calleigh's purse. He picks up her inhaler from the mess of things on the floor, then he goes back to her and she takes it and uses it.

"Better?" He asks.

Calleigh nods.

She hates the way the medicine tastes, but it opens up her airways.

She exhales, then she takes a deep breath and lets it out again.

Kyle finishes packing up the money, then he closes up the bags.

"It's done, let's go," Kyle says.

Montell nods. "Back all the way up against the wall."

Eric and Calleigh comply, then the robbing employees back out of the vault.

Kyle begins to close it.

"W-wait," Calleigh calls. "You're locking us in here?"

"It's ventilated," Montell informs them. "Would you rather us kill you?"

"Look, you guys will already have a running start," Eric says. "Just...let us go, alright?"

"There's ventilation, some light, and you'll only be in here about a day," Kyle explains. "Someone's going to be looking for you two, and besides, after Christmas, the bank will be open and someone will open it up and see you. You'll be fine."

The men close and lock the vault.

The music gets turned off, then the lights in the vault are turned off, save for the small lights for the cameras, which had been previously disabled by a third, unseen accomplice.

Calleigh makes her way over to her purse and pats her hand around on the floor to pick up what she can feel after and put it back into her purse.

Eric sighs and he sits on the floor.

"This is frickin' unbelievable," Calleigh huffs as she sits on the floor against the wall opposite Eric. "They're taking my car, Eric. My car!"

"They're right though," he sighs. "They didn't turn the air off, so we'll be okay."

"They took our phones, Eric."

"People will be looking for us," he says. "They're going to screw up, you know. They're probably going to dump your car the minute they see our badges, and they're bound to leave something behind."

Calleigh sighs.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yes and no," she shrugs. "Yes, I'm fine, physically. No, because I'm stuck in a damn vault with you that after being held at gunpoint on Christmas Eve."

"What's the worst part for you?" He asks. "Being held at gunpoint or being stuck with me?"

"Neither," she teases. "I've been held at gunpoint before, and as for you, well...better you than anyone else."

"That makes me feel awesome."

"That was a compliment, you know."

"Yeah, I know, carina."

"Now, you will drive me crazy with the endearments," she says.

"Habit," he shrugs. "But you're not being fair. My mother calls you mijita all the time, and you don't seem to mind."

"That's 'cause she's your mother," Calleigh sighs. "You, however have boundaries to respect, Mister."

"But you are mi carina," he grins. "You always will be. Would you like it better if I called you mi regina all the time?"

"Eric...stop it, please?"

"Alright."

They both settle in for a long night.