For those of you who are aware of that authors project that I've been dabbling in, it's well and truly started and the first chapter will be up next Wednesday. We want to keep a chapter ahead so that we can be sure that the plot we've come up with doesn't turn out to be some utter disaster - which I'm hoping it won't!

But anyway, after being hit badly with a case of writer's block, this idea randomly popped into my mind as I was about to fall asleep tonight. So of course I had to abandon that plan and type it up.

So here we are, hot off the press; the first chapter of a new story. (And one which I'm not 100 percent sure where it's going... but then when am I ever? :P)

Enjoy! x

Wordless and Secret...

Eric was used to looking at photographs; his job demanded it. They detailed the process of examining a crime scene, the position of vital pieces of evidence, allowed him to notice things that he maybe hadn't before…

But most importantly, each and every one told a story. And it didn't have to be a crime scene photograph to do that.

Take, for example, the one that he was currently studying. It was a picture of Calleigh, her face turned away from the camera, her gaze instead transfixed on an invisible point in the darkening sky, her hair blowing in the gentle breeze as she lost herself to her thoughts.

He smiled when he remembered that she hadn't even been aware that he had taken it. They had gone for a walk that evening. Hadn't said much, had merely walked in a comfortable silence; words were never necessary between them. So much so, that they had both silently agreed that the walk had signaled the beginning. 'The beginning of us,' Eric smiled.

He ran a lazy finger across the photograph and he sighed wistfully at the memory. Calleigh was the only person with whom he could communicate so much with a look or a touch. She got him, just as he did her.

Conventional couples would probably have needed the relationship talk, the one that slapped a giant stamp across them, branding them with the word, dating. But then they weren't conventional, were in fact the furthest thing from it. They had danced around their feelings for far too long, been aware of them for even longer, and all that had been necessary was a simple gesture. Or a simple moment that somehow conveyed everything they had, made a beautiful and silent statement of acceptance and held the promise of a future; this was the photograph that had captured it…

/EC/

The sky was a darkening silver, with a fringe of slate coloured clouds slowly making their journey across it. And Calleigh read the signs immediately.

"It's going to rain," she murmured, gesturing towards the heavens. She felt him nod beside her and continued to watch as the storm clouds rolled in, a light and ominous breeze tugging playfully at her person.

"You can smell it on the wind, too," she heard Eric say. "Air smells damp."

With a smile she turned back to face him, and wordlessly slipped her hand through his. He instinctively entwined their fingers and she gazed down at the contact, a slight shiver running through her that she knew wasn't just the result of the breeze.

"You wanna head home?" he asked, gesturing to the sky.

She merely smiled and shook her head. It was odd, but she found storms calming. There was something about the way the air rested after a heavy downpour and how clear the sky was left; the way it carried on with a sunny smile after what would be the human counterpart of depositing some great emotion.

And if it were anyone but Eric, she'd feel a little silly about what her mind was thinking; that the approaching storm was their storm. Coming to wash away the baggage, the complications, the excuses, the fears… until all that was left was them. Each other. Together.

But that was exactly how she felt, and she gave his hand a slight squeeze as her heart warmed to the idea. She felt him reciprocate the gesture and she flashed him a smile before she pulled away, moving to settle herself against a railing that offered a view of the city. They were in a park, one that was situated on a slope and traced the outline of Miami. She could see skyscrapers, the ocean, boats, cars, lights... everything. All of it set against the backdrop of the unsettled sky.

As the first rumble of thunder reverberated about, Eric reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone; realising how surprisingly perfect the moment was. How significant it was. And he wanted to capture it, store it away forever. So with a quick press of a button he did so, smiling when he noticed that he'd managed to catch Calleigh in there too; looking natural and strong, ready to weather whatever came her way.

She didn't have to wait long when with a thunderous bolt of lightning, the clouds gave up their battle and the rain began to fall. He moved through the sheets of water and came to rest next to her, neither of them saying anything as the storm raged across the city. But when he felt her shiver, he shifted his position so that he was behind her and gently drew her back against his chest; donating her his warmth. She leant into him willingly, otherwise unfazed by the elements.

He seemed to recognise her desire to stay here, and she smiled as he kissed the rain from her hair, only for a new shimmery coat of droplets to form almost immediately. The minutes continued to tick by, only interrupted occasionally by a flash of lightning or the retaliation of the thunder.

But then his senses returned. And realising that they were in serious danger of catching colds, he gently spun her round and reached for her hand, silently informing her that it was time to go. She smiled back at him for a moment, before she eventually nodded and after a final lingering glance over the railing, she allowed him to walk her back to the Hummer.

/EC/

They were well and truly soaked by the time he got her home, Eric remembered. Luckily, however, he'd brought a change of clothes.

He laughed when he remembered her coy comment, "Well, someone thought they were getting lucky."

That really hadn't been the case, though. He always kept spare clothes in the Hummer; crime scenes had an unfortunate habit of being messy. She'd laughed when he'd told her so and offered him a towel, directing him towards the bathroom so that he could change.

The rest of the night had been spent talking, laughing, joking… not about anything important mind, just silly things; topics that really had no relevance at all...

/EC/

She watched as he absent-mindedly flicked through her music collection with - for the most part - an agreeable smile. Occasionally he grimaced and raised his eyebrows at her, letting her know that she should be embarrassed by some of the stuff she had. But she just rolled her eyes and swatted playfully at his chest, telling him that he probably had equally awful music at his house.

"There's nothing bad about ABBA, Calleigh," he said with mock sincerity; feigning hurt when she responded with a laugh. "They've created some real anthems you know."

"Shut up!" she giggled, reaching for her mug on the coffee table.

He smiled and continued to search through her albums, and she groaned when he found perhaps her most uncharacteristic one."Celine Dione?" he grinned, holding up said album. "I never pictured you as the type."

"I'm female, Eric," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's genetic!"

"To like Celine Dione?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in the process.

"Well, what can I say?" She shrugged. "We all have our Bridget Jones moments."

She threw a cushion his way when he began to laugh, before he eventually composed himself and held her gaze with somewhat sincerity. "Does that include giant panties and bunny girl outfits?" he managed to say, before the laughter began again.

"Funny," she shot back, "too bad you won't ever find out."

/EC/

He had, though. Not that night; it had been too soon. But he'd later discovered that Calleigh took the 'less-is-more' approach when it came to underwear; something that he'd certainly had no qualms about. As for the bunny outfits, well, he was still working on that one. Although, he had a sneaky suspicion that if he ever bought her one, she'd fire a bullet that actually would kill him.

'It could still be fun to try, however,' he thought with a smirk.

"But you need to wake up first," he whispered gently to the sleeping form in front of him; his smirk being replaced by a soft frown when he received no response. It had been like this for eight days now, ever since...

She'd been on her way to a suspect's house and had literally just stepped out of her Hummer when she'd caught sight of another car speeding down the road. There had been a young girl directly in its path and Calleigh had instinctively pushed her out of the way, allowing her own body to take the full impact. He'd been angry with her when Horatio had told him the news, angry that she had put her own life on the line to save someone else - he'd been selfish.

But slowly, after the anger had melted away, he'd felt proud of her. Because that was who she was, "Always trying to save and help people," he breathed, reaching down to brush her perfect hair off her perfect face; there wasn't a scratch on her.

Her injuries had been internal, and the doctors had managed to stabilise her. But she had slipped into a coma after the surgery. Apparently it was common for it to happen after incidents of severe trauma; almost as if the body shocks itself into an extended period of rest...

She would wake up, though. She had to. It was Calleigh; brave and strong. A fighter.

It was just a waiting game.

And one that had been hard at first - although he'd be lying if he said that it still wasn't - but he had discovered something that helped him to get through the day. Their photo album; a visual novel of moments they'd shared, experiences they'd had, places they'd been to...

A story of them.

It was a perfect way of detailing their relationship; wordless and secret. Full of simple images to an outsider, but a deep and emotional story to them.

So after placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he sat himself down in the chair beside her hospital bed and turned the page, an instant smile breaking his mouth when he saw what it was.

As the memory swept through his mind, his pain was temporarily placed in suspension. Because he often found that the good memories were the things that got you through the rough times.

And this next photograph had captured one of the best...

Please keep in mind that this was a midnight/3am type up from me. Unfortunately my brain likes to work at the most inconvenient times. But I think I know where to go with it.

And hey, I have to get my inspiration from somewhere, right?

Reviews very much appreciated :D