A/N: This one popped into my head this morning, which means there is now officially a "Dream" series, becuase I know there are more rattling around in my brain :-P They don't need to be read in any particular order, though, and each one can be read as a solo shot if you prefer.

At any rate, enjoy Eric's latest Calleigh-themed daydream :-D

Eric didn't know why he was looking for a Valentine's Day present. He supposed he was spurred on by the same commercialization as the other men in the mall, hell bent on picking out the perfect gift for the women they loved. But unlike them, he wouldn't actually be giving the woman he loved anything.

Jake will be taking care of that this year.

But he shopped around anyway, trading sympathetic looks with husbands and boyfriends as they combed through suggestions from giggly sales girls. He checked out the usual items: candy, jewelry, even lingerie—though the image that formed in his head of Calleigh wearing any one of the articles before him quickly became dangerous—before wandering out into the main corridor again. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, throwing his glance at several nearby stores.

"It's tough, isn't it?"

Eric turned to find a man about his age sporting a harried expression. "Tough?"

"Shopping," the man continued. "Ninety-nine percent of the time I avoid the mall like the plague, but holidays…I gotta find just the right thing for my wife…"

"The things we do for love, huh?" Eric chuckled.

"Yeah," the man agreed. "And this year it's especially hard—my wife is eight months pregnant. Lingerie is definitely out, chocolate gives her indigestion, and she's so tired all the time we aren't even going out to dinner, so I gotta get her something good."

"That is tough," Eric told him. "You having any luck?"

The man shook his head. "I'm totally stumped."

"Well, you can always do what my brother-in-law did," Eric offered. "When my sister was expecting her first baby, he cooked dinner for her, rented her favorite movie, covered the house with lit candles, bought her flowers, the whole nine yards. She didn't have to lift a finger, and she loved it."

"Your brother-in-law is a smart man," the man commented. "That's a great idea."

Eric smiled. "Glad I could help."

He lingered a bit longer, purchasing a delicate gold chain complete with a teardrop diamond pendant. Maybe for her birthday, he rationalized, fingering the small velvet box as he drove home.

Dropping onto the couch in his living room with a beer and a pizza, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television, flipping through the channels in search of something to take his mind off Calleigh. Landing on a movie he had wanted to see, he settled in and tried to focus on the plot, tried to concentrate on the characters, but found his mind wandering.

Calleigh lay on their couch in the living room, half curled up on her side, a hand resting on her swollen abdomen when Eric came in from the kitchen.

"So dinner was good?" he asked slyly, fishing for a compliment.

"Dinner was wonderful," she grinned, reaching out for him. "I don't know where you learned to cook like that, but I'm glad that you did…and very impressed."

He crossed the room and sat down on the floor in front of her, lacing his fingers with hers as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. The candles he had set around the room flickered warmly, glinting in her emerald eyes when he drew back, and Eric knew a goofy smile was plastered on his face. "But the night isn't over yet."

"There's more?" she asked, surprise. "Eric, you're going to spoil me."

He kissed her again gently, his love for her written so clearly on his face. "How 'bout a massage?"

Her eyes lit up at his suggestion. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he nodded, moving toward the other end of the couch. "I'll start with your feet and work my way up."

She stretched out her legs to give him better access, her lids fluttering closed as he rubbed her feet. "You really are going to spoil me," she purred, the ache in her lower extremities abating as he worked.

"If by spoiling you mean taking very good care of you, then yeah, I'm going to spoil you rotten," he smiled, his fingers traveling up her calves. "And I have every right, too—you're doing all the hard work, carrying the baby."

"Hard but worth it," she amended softly. "I can already picture this pair of big brown eyes looking up at us from the crib."

"How do you know our child isn't going to have green eyes?" he questioned.

She chuckled. "Genetics, sweetheart," she explained. "Brown is the dominant gene, remember? So unless you're a carrier of some other eye-color gene, which I highly doubt, all our children will have your gorgeous brown eyes."

His hands came to rest on the baby and he massaged gently. "All our children?"

Her eyes met his, her fingertips brushing across his cheek. "Yeah."

Leaning forward, his lips found hers in a tender kiss, curving into a small smile when her arms snaked around his neck. "I love you," he murmured against her mouth. Sliding his hand across her abdomen, his smile grew as he felt their child move beneath his fingers. "Both of you."

"I know," she whispered back, her sweet southern accent heavy with emotion. "We love you, too."

His sighed softly, coming back to his surroundings, realizing he was still in his own living room, alone with his pizza and beer. "At least I can dream about her," he said aloud. "Even if I can't be with her…" His dark eyes flashed in the light from the television, and he grinned slyly. "…yet."